《The Daily Grind》 Chapter 001 James¡¯ life had been getting weird lately. Actually, that was probably the wrong way to say it. James¡¯ life had gotten weird lately, going from normal to something he didn¡¯t understand at high speed. It started almost exactly a month ago. His work schedule had changed, and he got stuck on the night shift. Tech support at 1 AM is almost brutally boring, and it took a lot of effort to not just doze off. He was just getting into the pattern of it, when something went horribly wrong. One Tuesday night that was technically early morning, the elevator was out when he clocked out. So, rather than go all the way around the building for the other one, it seemed easier to take the stairs. Makes sense, right? The big bulky security door for the stairwell is right there. So, throw it open and see... not the stairs. Cubicles. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe. Stretching so far off that they fade into the horizon. He''d panicked then, and slammed the door. Clearly, this was sleep deprivation and hallucination. So, he took a minute, then opened it up again, and of course, there the stairs sit, normal as can be. It wasn''t until it happened again next week that he realized that the crazy wasn''t in his own head at all, but in the real world all along. The week after that, he did it on purpose, and with a little less panic, and started to get a picture of what was going on. Tuesday, 3:44 to 3:46 AM, the door to the east stairwell of his call center led to... somewhere else. That third time, he went in a bit. Careful to keep the door propped open a bit, of course. All the desks nearby were occupied, but he didn''t recognize the names on any of the tags. And the little nicknacks were all sort of... random. There were pictures of cats, office toys, plants, all the usual stuff, but they all felt kind of jumbled, like they were just dropped there to just fill some kind of tat quota. It wasn''t until passing the fourth or fifth desk that he thought to check a drawer, and made two major discoveries. One, some of the desks had candy bars in them. And the candy bars seemed just as "random-number-generator" as everything else. He was well aware of the fact that humanity had put chocolate, nougat, caramel, and nuts together in just about every possible combination, but that didn''t mean he''d seen any of them. And he was pretty sure that "Baby Things" weren''t available at his local supermarket. They did taste good, though. The second discovery was when he found a wallet in a coat hanging on the back of a chair. The ID in it didn''t match the name tag on the cubicle, it had a loyalty card to a coffee shop he was pretty sure didn''t exist, and also a hundred and seventeen dollars and fifteen cents in cash. That last part was important, because the cash sure didn''t look randomized. As he was busy wondering what kind of person would carry almost exclusively two and five dollar bills, a thought in the back of his mind was racing. If this was what he could find a few feet through the door, how much more stuff was in here? A hundred bucks, even in weird denominations, was a hundred bucks. He''d just made in five minutes what would normally take most of a work day. James wasn''t an idiot, and he''d played more than one RPG in his life. Even if he hadn''t been a massive nerd in his down time, he worked in tech support. Hard to avoid that kind of incidental knowledge. He could see what was going on here, and his thoughts turned to spawn rates and drop tables. Was this place farmable? Hell, if he could just pick up a few hundred bucks and some novelty candy every week, that was more than enough to justify it, right? If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. So busy was he caught up in wondering if this place was his personal treasure trove, that James didn''t notice the skittering thing creeping up on him until it was already upon him. With a yelp of pain, he jerked his hand off the desk, a pained "holy shit" coming from him as he looked at the two tiny bleeding points on the back of his hand. On the desk, clicking at him in an angry tone, was a stapler. It was black. Heavy. He could tell just by looking at it that it was one of those solid bricks that they don''t seem to make anymore, but that keep showing up in offices. It clattered at him, moving under some unseen power, and skittered toward him across the desk, not letting up its tiny furious assault. As for how it was actually moving, that was more obvious. Ten to twenty "legs", made of what looked like ballpoint pens, gave the impression of a matte-black crab. Before he knew what was really happening, it launched itself at his face, and James could only flail backward in panic. The stapler got a few good punches in on his left cheek, leaving dripping trails of blood running down onto his shoulder, before he got a good grip on it and pulled it off. It was heavy, but not really any heavier than a stapler. Gripping the top of it, he ripped open the feed chamber for the staples, getting a surprising amount of resistance, and a fleshy popping sound as he pried it back. Dumping the staples out onto the floor, along with some dripping fleshy strings that tied the stapler''s internals together, he threw the creature into the far wall of the cubical, before slumping back into the swivel chair and taking panicked breaths as the adrenaline left his system. It took him more than a few minutes to regain his breath, and longer to stop his hands from shaking. He''d just been attacked. By a stapler. God, he was bleeding! It wasn''t threatening, but the wounds hurt like hell, and it was dripping onto his shirt and how was he supposed to explain this to his boss? As he sat there, trying to regain some calm, he noticed something about the corpse of the office tool he''d just fought off. "Are you kidding me? It even has a loot drop. This is insane." He muttered to himself, kneeling down to pick up the small, slightly glowing, golden orb hovering above the body of the monstrous stapler. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, he brought it up to his eye. "Doesn''t look like an actual gem..." he muttered, slightly squeezing the soft sphere. "What am I even supposed to do with..." It popped in his grip, suddenly and almost violently, though he didn''t really feel a thing. In his mind, however, a single thought that was recognizably not his own echoed. [+1 Skill Rank : Templating - Phone Book - New York] "What." Without really meaning to, he thought about a New York phone book, and a series of data points jumped to mind. Column widths, ad spacing and costs, font size, it was like he''d spent the last couple months working a job printing the giant brick texts that no one used anymore. "What the hell kind of reward is that? I think I am actually a more boring person for having done that! No, this is bullshit! No! The candy, okay, I get that. Money? Sure! But this?! This is insane! Who the fuck wants to know how to format phone books?!" He yelled into the empty, endless, office. Well, the mostly empty office. A series of skittering noises answered the yell. Like a thousand dry ballpoint pens being scritched across paper, digging for ink that had long since run out. A waterfall of noise and motion. It took him a second to realize what he''d just done, and then the first stapler crested the cubicle wall. A second series of noises joined the first, this time, it was mostly the word "fuck" yelled at high volume, punctuated by the sound of feet pounding the floor, as James dashed for the exit at high speed. "How fast can those things go? What if they catch me? What if the door isn''t there? How long have I been in here? Was I stupid enough to miss the exit window?" Thoughts ran through his head at high speed, and he ran through the office just as fast. The door was still there, though. And it still led to the east stairwell. James was through it faster than he''d ever opened a door before, and slammed the thick metal security door behind him, bracing himself against it to stop the incoming flood of stapler-crabs. But the impacts never came, no skittering noises or scratchings echoed from the other side. It was just a silent hallway. He checked his watch. 3:47. He opened the door. Stairs. Heart still racing, he decided to take the time to walk around the building and use the other elevator down that night. Chapter 002 So all of this happened two weeks ago. It took about a day for him to really start to believe it had even happened, though the aching scabs on his cheek and hand were pretty good proof. Another few days to really process the whole thing, and stop double checking every door before going through it. About five days to pretend his life was going back to normal - and pointedly not "taking the stairs" that Tuesday- with one day off for hanging out with some friends on the weekend and saying nothing about it in case he really was just going crazy. And then a few days to consider the implications of everything. The stapler, he decided, was not a huge threat. Oh, sure, if he''d let it, it could have taken out an eye, and the swarm could have bled him out in a probably horrifyingly painful way. But one of them wasn''t a problem. For a few hundred bucks and some novelty candy, he could fight a few staplers. But that was just near the door, he hadn''t gone too far in, so who knew if it got worse? And, more importantly, who knew what other skill balls he could find? As absurdly useless as knowing how to size a column for a list of phone numbers was, he''d basically just gotten two months of job training for free in a few seconds. Sure, it was a hyper-specific job, and he didn''t live anywhere close to New York, but still. It was a fair bet that not every stapler dropped that exact same chunk of knowledge. It was also a fair bet that at least a few staplers would drop some chunk of knowledge. How long would he have to spend in there to learn something valuable? An hour? Two? And so, that Sunday night, James spent his time at work spacing out, fantasizing about magically becoming a master chef, picking up Judo like it was nothing, and, on a more practical level, maybe figuring out how to fix the internet when it went out at his apartment. That Monday evening found him looking down at his bed, looking at the assortment of stuff laid out on his duvet. A backpack to hold most of it, an empty duffel bag for later. A handful of granola bars. Four bottles of water. About fifty feet of rope, which he hadn''t realized would be as heavy as it was. A maglight, of course; can''t have an adventure without that. A notepad. A couple two-way radios, courtesy of a desperation sale at the last dying Radio Shack. A smaller bag full of disinfectant and bandages. And, of course, a roll of duct tape. Because duct tape could solve a lot of problems. All that went into the bag. Oh, and a 9mm pistol with two magazines and a box of spare rounds. That, begrudgingly, went into a locked matte black hard plastic case on his desk. Too much of a risk tonight, given that he was about to walk into a job that did security checks for spare pens. James wasn¡¯t really sure why he¡¯d even gotten this. Enthusiasm, maybe. Both from himself and from his dad who was way too eager to loan James a handgun. The heavy coat and fingerless gloves went on him. The crowbar he''d carry in one of the duffel bags until he got there. And voila, one... well, one professional crazy criminal, thinking about it. He¡¯d prefer to be called an adventurer. But honestly, he couldn''t rule out being crazy. James himself wasn¡¯t exactly an adventuring type. Not physically, anyway. He was in his very late twenties, mildly overweight from spending more of his free time at a desk than actually doing physical exercise and all of his work time there too, and honestly pretty pale from spending all that collective time inside. He¡¯d recently swapped to contact lenses, and still had marks on the side of his head from years of wearing glasses that were a little too tight, but those marks were covered by the hair he kept in a long ponytail that was probably the most well cared for part of his body. But, he figured as he set out the door, even he could deal with one, maybe two staplers without too much issue. And then, after all that, work crawled by, almost unbearably slowly. James fielded a few intolerably stupid tech support calls, one from an older gentleman who, while friendly, had to be reminded that the CD tray wasn''t a cupholder. At any other time, this would have amused him, and been one of those tales from tech support to share with his friends and also Reddit, but right now, it just frayed his patience. And so by the time his shift ended, his nerves had him almost shaking. Clocking out, spending the two minute walk between his desk and his time card worrying that someone would again notice the crowbar, James just kept running over in his head what a stupid idea this was. How he was gonna get himself killed, how it wasn''t worth it, how he should just go home now and not wait for the door. And yet, when he got back to his desk, he did a quick double check of his "gear", took an exactly-twelve-minute "bathroom break", and then headed for the back stairwell. No one was around in the elevator landing, leaving the area with a strangely dead silent feeling. Or at least, strange to someone who was used to being there during the day. It was the little things; the potted plants didn''t rustle in the breeze of people walking by, the carpet that normally kept things quiet now muffled sound to a stifling degree, and the elevator¡¯s ding wasn''t sounding every two minutes as someone got on or off. It was just.... empty. Devoid of humanity. Trying hard not to notice this, or at least, not to let it bother him, James checked his phone, confirmed it was 3:44 AM, and pushed open the door. The solid metal door swung open silently on well oiled hinges. And beyond it, instead of stairs, was an ocean of low-walled cubicles. Like a beige fractal, the aisles and walls and open spaces stretched out before him. Nothing moved, nothing threatened him, but he still felt ill at ease. It was, he realized, almost an identical feeling to being in the elevator landing; not a single human around to make small noises or provide a bit of company. As the door swung shut behind him, he almost jumped out of his skin. Giving a nervous laugh to try to steady his nerves, the noise actually drew his attention to a clock on the wall over the door. 3:44, it read. And continued to read. As he watched, he could barely see the second hand ticking forward, but it was at an almost non-existent pace. So, then, the thought, he couldn''t be here forever. But it would be a very, very long time before 3:47 and the door wouldn''t open from the other side. Would it still let him out? Or would he be stuck here forever? James did some quick math, and then checked that math twice on his phone¡¯s calculator. It seemed like, based on the speed of the clock, he had maybe eight hours in here before that was even a problem. And he had no intention of staying longer than it took to fill up a duffel bag. So, he set a timer on his phone as a backup measure, and turned toward his goal. Step one, he figured, was to just rummage through the immediate surroundings. He couldn''t actually see too far into the distance, because some of the cubicle walls rose up to just over head height, and after enough distance and enough walls, there wasn''t a clear line of sight for very far. But nearby, there were cubicles. Some of them should have been the ones he''d poked through before, but he didn''t recognize any of them. The first one he got to had pictures of what looked like a stock model playing with her dog, except each picture contained a different woman. Same dog, though. It was the kind of thing that made James pause, and put a little too much thought into how silent and inhuman it was in here. Not enough of a pause to stop him checking the purse on the desk, though. Or muttering a quick ¡°score¡± under his breath as he pocketed the ten bucks in it, along with a small bottle of perfume. Anything that looked vaguely fancy, he figured, he might be able to sell at a pawn shop. Or just give to someone as a gift. Nice perfume was a good gift whether it came from a store or a monster-infested nightmare zone. He assumed. He hoped. After all, he thought, he was here to loot, and he might not come back anytime soon. Best grab whatever looked nice. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. James went through a couple more desks, snapping up cash, though making a point to ignore the three-dollar bills, grabbing any nice looking pens, nabbing a smartphone of some kind. And of course, bagging any candy bars with bizarre names that he could share as a novelty with his roommates. So far, not much was topping Baby Things, but Flavor Rocks was pretty close. Then again, he figured, Butterfinger and Whatchamacallit were both actual, real names for food that someone must have, at some point, thought were good ideas, so who was he to complain about the creativity of the random name generator in this cubicle landscape? It wasn''t until about fifteen minutes into his looting spree that he got his first bout of trouble. As he ducked under a potted plant that looked suspiciously like how someone who had only heard of ferns before would make a fern, his first enemy struck. The stapler-crab came out of the thick fern like a bolt, falling the half foot onto his backpack, and immediately trying to punch its metal payload into his right shoulder. Fortunately, the thick leather coat that he''d worn today, despite the summer heat, absorbed the actual stab. Still, being punched at high speed by a motivated and furious stapler was gonna hurt anyway, and the feeling of its pen legs scrabbling at his back almost made James panic right there. He didn''t, though. He kept calm, or at least, calm enough, and slammed his back against the cubicle wall. It held up surprisingly well, and he both heard and felt the stapler hit the floor. Before it could skitter away, or worse, into his ankles, he stomped on it hard enough that his teeth rattled. Keeping in pinned, some of its legs bending under it, he brought the crowbar down on it like a golfer teeing off. Once. Twice. The third time, something gave, and the front of the creature tore off with a fleshy pop, lines of staples flying across the floor along with a splash of black inky liquid. Just as he was taking a breath, leaning back against the wall, he happened to catch sight of movement. It was that stroke of luck that saved him from a stapler-induced concussion, as not one, but two more of the crabs crawled out of the cover of the potted plant, perched on the edge of the hanging pot for a minute, and then launched themselves at his head. The first one caught a panicked swing of the crowbar, as James hissed out profanities. He kept his voice low, even as he became increasingly adrenaline pumped; he remembered what happened last time he made too much noise here. And he probably wasn''t at risk of actually dying, he knew that. Not after the ambush was spoiled at least. But still, these things fucking hurt, and he didn''t want to go through the process of pulling staples out of his fucking face again. To that end, he decided to make just a little more noise, specifically by grabbing the second stapler off his shoulder where it was hauling itself toward his neck, winding up, and pitching it as hard as possible over the cubicle wall, off into the distance. Now, James was not athletic. He was the kind of person who worked tech support, because it afforded him the opportunity to read more books while sitting down all day, which was a continuation of what he did at home. He wasn''t lazy, or fat, but he wasn''t overly strong or fit. Even so, he currently had enough adrenaline in his blood to kill a large dog, or perhaps a small horse, and so his throw was a bit more vigorous than normal. The creature arced up toward the ceiling, silently twitching its legs, and quickly went out of sight over the cubicle wall in front of him. He didn''t hear it land. Turning back to the desk, and the other crab, James swapped the crowbar back to his right hand, and took a swing. But this time, he was starting to feel the shakes from his adrenaline fueled fight, and he whiffed over the head of the thing and crunched the computer monitor instead, snapping the plastic frame and ruining the screen as the heavy bar of metal got stuck in it. He tried to yank it back for another try, but it really was stuck, and the office supply nightmare rushed him and sunk its ¡°teeth¡± into his wrist before he could jerk backward. A solid stapler ka-chunk was followed instantly by a burst of pain, as a staple punched down to the bone on the back of his wrist. About half the staple was still sticking out as the monster pulled back for another strike, and James reacted to blind instinctive fear. He dropped the crowbar entirely, grabbed the stapler around its midpoint, ignoring the abnormally sharp points of the legs, and as with his first kill here, grabbed it with both hands and simply pulled until the top ripped off with a wet splattering sound, staples pouring out along with inky blood across the desk. And then everything was quiet again. As his body started to tremble from the after effects of what certainly felt like life-or-death combat, James pulled the office chair over and fell into the black padding of the seat. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, and to psych himself up to pull a centimeter of metal out of his wrist. Pulling out his tube of disinfectant and a bandage from his bag, he was struck with the sudden realization of just how loud the rustling sounded in the otherwise dead air. Even in the office in the real world, when he was alone at night, there was at least the air conditioning constantly humming. But here, nothing. Not even the sounds of clicking as enemies closed in. It took him more than a couple minutes to get the medical supplies out, as he kept stopping and checking to make sure he didn''t hear something, constantly looking around at the walls of the cubicle to see if anything was crawling over them. But the coast was clear, and he couldn''t delay any longer. With gritted teeth, he took a grip on the staple in him with sweaty fingers, and jerked it out. Two small points of red blood started welling up, and dripping down onto the carpet almost right away, as he tossed the metal away and clamped his hand over the wound. James cursed himself for not thinking to bring a towel or something to clean blood with, as he fumbled with a single hand to put some disinfectant on the bandage, and get the adhesive onto his skin in a way that didn''t just slide off in the now quite slick layer of blood. Eventually, he got himself no longer bleeding, and took a few minutes to just try to calm down, process what happened, and get his crowbar out of a computer monitor as quietly as possible. After taking a few drinks of water and settling down, he decided it was time to check what he''d really come here for. Over both of the dead stapler-crabs, a small yellow orb hovered. Mostly opaque skin around some kind of liquid or gas or maybe just congealed yellow magic, James didn''t know exactly what. It was smooth, like a bath bead, and to him in that moment, it was the most precious of treasure. He had fought for this, literally bled for this, for a chance to, right now, be something more than just a dull IT guy in a dead end job he hated. ¡°Yessssssss¡± he whispered to the empty office, doing a small fist pump in the air. Time to see to the prize, he decided. Two small orbs popped neatly in his fingers. Two small thoughts ran through his mind, very obviously intruders, making their presence known clearly and politely. [+1 Skill Rank : History ¨C Boogieboarding] [+1 Skill Rank : Repair - Fax Machine] ¡°Noooooooo¡± he whispered, equally unheard by the chairs and desks around him. But in truth, he wasn''t mad. Not even a little upset or disappointed. As he ducked back out of the aisle, and followed the pen marks he''d left back to the door, he had a sense of satisfaction and triumph burning in his chest. He''d done it; he''d made a successful incursion into this place. He''d tested himself on something that was trying to kill him, and he''d won, and been rewarded. His rewards were... lackluster. James was almost certain that his office actually had a fax machine somewhere, but damned if he''d ever had to fix it. But they were also different from the first one. As he walked, he made some notes on the pad he''d brought along, scribbling down the words as he kept his eyes on the walls around him. First, he marked the ¡°skills¡± he''d gotten. It was actually pretty weird to suddenly know things he hadn''t even considered before, and the lack of context or emotion on those chunks of knowledge made them a bit surreal to think about. He also made some notes on the things he''d learned about the diversity of orbs found so far, and then started jotting down questions he had. The questions, and possible tests to answer them, took up a lot more space. Before he was actually done, he''d arrived back at the door. It was almost absentmindedly that he pushed it open, stepped out, and casually waited for the elevator to take him down. He''d gotten lost in the thought of what questions he had, and suddenly realized how lucky he was he didn''t get jumped again on the way out, even though he wasn''t that far in. The big questions, things like ¡°what is that place¡± and ¡°who-and-or-what made it, and why¡± were obviously off the table. But other questions, like, ¡°does it get more dangerous¡± and ¡°do the more dangerous parts drop better skills¡±, and even, ¡°what constitutes a single point in a skill¡± were all things he could maybe start testing. Of course, as he headed out of the building to his car in the warm summer night, he also remembered that he had some much more fun questions to answer when he got home. Questions like, ¡°can I afford to order pizza tonight because I just looted a few hundred bucks from an extradimensional office dungeon¡±. He was pretty sure the answer was ¡°Yes. And that¡¯s why I¡¯ll be back.¡± Chapter 003 ¡°James!¡± the call was firm, but not shouted too loudly through the small apartment he shared with his roommates. ¡°What the hell is this candy on the table?¡± James reluctantly hauled himself out of his desk chair and plodded down the hallway to the messy living room of his apartment. His roommate and relatively recent friend, Anesh, was in the futile process of trying to clean off their kitchen table. From experience, James knew that table wouldn''t stay cleared off or in any reasonable way ''clean'' for more than a day or so. And knowing this, he''d emptied out his duffle bag a few days ago when he''d come back from his first delve onto that very same table, hoping that he''d have plenty of time to sort it out later. Of course, now, Anesh had actually decided to do chores. This was unexpected, and now he had to explain something. "They''re from England?" He went with. Anesh gave him a look. The sort of look you gave someone when you were absolutely sure they were full of shit. "James, I am from England. If these are from England, they''re from a Poundland down a back alley that no one has been in since 1995. And they can''t be that, because this one tastes pretty alright." "You ate my candy?" Anesh shifted his look to a more sheepish one. "That''s not the point here. Where''d you get all this anyway? And, also, why''d you pile it on our table?" James decided to go with the honest answer. "Well, I found an extradimensional cubicle dungeon at work, and it has cash and candy bars in it, among other things. This is what I had in my bag when I got home, but I needed the bag for groceries, because I didn¡¯t want to just carry milk home and freeze my fingers off, so I dumped it here. Also, here''s rent for the month." He handed over a few hundred bucks, in a range of different denominations. "I... do not believe you." Anesh responded. "But whatever. If you don''t want to tell me where you''re getting your secret candy, I''m not actually that curious. Honestly, I care more about why you just paid rent in $2 bills. Did you mug someone''s grandma?" James raised an eyebrow. "Why a gran...?" "When have you ever gotten a $2 except as a Christmas thing from your grandma?" Anesh asked with coyly raised eyebrows. "That''s a very good point. And no, I didn''t mug anyone." James responded. ¡°Probably. They¡¯re all from procedurally generated wallets.¡± Anesh sighed. "Well, again, whatever. It''s rent. I''m gonna get back to this, so I''ll probably shove your candy in the pantry." As he spoke, he casually unwrapped one of the bright neon-yellow wrapped candy bars and started munching on it. "Are you just... eating more of my candy? Dude, that took a lot of work to get." James moved to snatch the treat from Anesh, but his roommate dodged out of the way behind the table. Keeping the table between the two of them, he shoved more chocolate in his mouth. "You left these here for almost a whole week! You forfeit your claim!" James stopped trying to circle the table and grab his food back. "Okay, A, that is not how property works. B, wait, is it Sunday already? I have to go get some stuff." Through the last mouthful of candy, Anesh spoke, "Ah, right, you work tomorrow, huh? Gotta get something before you''re banished back to the night shift?" "Yeah, going to the military surplus store. I want to see if they have, I dunno, some kind of armor." He raised his arms, showing the bandages, one of them actually a piece of gauze medical taped to his wrist. "I''m getting tired of how much these ache and itch." Anesh just shook his head, and turned back to what he was working on, casually dismissing his friend with a "Sure, go get your head start on your Halloween costume." Jokes aside, James did have a plan for today. It was the last day of his three day weekend, and he absolutely intended to go in again tomorrow. In to work, sure, but afterward, In. Capital I. He''d been unsure about it at first. The visceral and insanely unpleasant feeling of a staple grinding against the bone of his wrist as he pulled it out had been... bad. Tooth-grindingly bad. And as soon as he''d actually gotten home, he''d sat down at his desk, and for about two hours, debated going to the hospital because of how bad it hurt. "Never", he''d thought, "am I going to do something that stupid again. It''s not worth it. It will never be worth it, especially if it gets more dangerous, or more painful." The notepad he''d been jotting stuff down on had been tossed on his desk, and he''d stared at it for half an hour, just considering whether or not he wanted to pitch it in the bin, cut his losses, and forget everything else that had happened. And he''d had his whole work week to remember how much he hated his job. And then he''d paid Anesh rent with the cash, and realized he could spend an extra $300 on whatever the hell he wanted. Probably random Kickstarter projects. And then, he''d gone into work on Saturday, cursing his new schedule and already mad as hell that he was missing his apartment''s D&D game, and his boss had told him he wasn''t needed that night, and he''d wasted two hours on getting ready and the damn commute, and he was just.... Just perfectly ready to pick up the crowbar again, really. And so, the local military surplus store. If there was one thing that James had learned from actually playing RPGs, it was that those $300 he''d gotten should be treated as an investment, and instantly go into buying better gear. Gear that would allow him, and he could not repeat this enough, to not get painfully stapled. As it turned out, though, military surplus stores, or at least, this military surplus store, did not sell functional combat armor. And James was hesitant to ask the three hundred pound bearded mountain of a man behind the counter who kept glaring at him if they had any vambraces in the back stockroom. So, after about half an hour of trying to search through boxes and racks of old BDU''s, ammo cans, machetes, and field manuals, he just gave up on that plan, and decided to double down on the thick coat, and maybe go full-anime and just wrap exposed parts of his arms in bandages. That idea was abandoned as soon as he got home, tried it, and realized how surprisingly uncomfortable it actually was to move in. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Almost without warning, it was Monday again. James hadn''t slept well, nerves actually starting to impact him this time. He''d stayed up staring at his ceiling for hours, mostly just thinking about how stupid he was and how he couldn''t do this. Eventually, he''d drifted off, only to be shocked awake by his alarm, dragged out of the warm haze of sleep that only really comes when one has been battling insomnia. He''d pushed through his waking routine without thinking of anything in particular, but when the time came to go into work... Well, he''d thrown the duffle bag in his car. Work was a series of sharp edges and near snaps. He''d almost punched his manager when she''d surprised him by the door. He''d half-yelled at more than one customer. On his break, he''d taken some time outside to catch his breath and calm down. "Am I seriously this worked up over it? I feel like a kid going into their first day of work all over again." He''d muttered to himself, looking up at the night sky. "Except, well, normal jobs don''t try to murder you." He took one last deep breath. "I should probably apologize to the boss, so she''s not pissed at me all day. I got this. It''ll be an adventure. A good way to kick off the rest of the boring-ass week." Now resolved, and a little more ready, work passed quickly. And once again, before he knew it, he was standing in front of a certain door, checking his phone''s clock. 3:44. Time to go. Rows of grey and beige, the muffled sound of nothing, strangely dimmed fluorescent lights. It was starting to become a bit more familiar. Right inside the door, there was a T-intersection in the cubicles. And on the floor, right there in front of him, was a stapler. It looked normal, but it was still quivering a bit, doing its best impression of something that was totally harmless, and failing. "Really? Come on, little guy." All of James'' tension bled out suddenly. He dropped his bag to the left with a whump, unzipped it, keeping an eye on the ''harmless'' stapler, and pulled out one of the long cardboard strips he''d brought tonight. Holding it against a nearby cubicle wall, he swiftly reached down, grabbed the stapler crab, and ka-chunked the cardboard into the wall, affixing it. The stapler''s scrabbling pen legs licked against his hand as he did so, but it wasn''t actually painful when he knew it was coming. Keeping his grip on it, he found a blank sheet of paper around, and a black marker, drew a big A on it, and stapled that to the top of his makeshift flag. Tossing the stapler down, he shooed it away. "Get outta here, little fella. I''m after bigger fish today." The stapler did something a bit different, and made a low hissing noise at him that he hadn''t heard before. It took him a while to realize it sounded like soft rattling metal. It also didn''t leave, but it didn''t lunge for him either. "Go on! Shoo!" He prodded it with his foot a bit, and it scampered off. "Either I''ve only met the berzerk ones so far, or that little guy was weird." He muttered to himself. And now, it was time to do some more exploring. Further up, and further in, as his favorite leonine stand-in for Jesus would say. So, making sure to keep his signpost in sight, James headed straight on into the maze of cubicles. He stopped a few times to loot when he saw obvious targets. Wallets and purses out on desks, or fancy coats draped over chairs. He was here to explore, sure, and to better himself, of course; but he was also here to be able to pay for fancy food for his whole friend group, and he wasn''t going to pass up twenties when they dropped in front of him. It was during this looting spree that he finally realized that most of these desks had computers on them, and computers actually have real world value. Slapping himself for not thinking of it sooner, he went to power one up and see what kind of specs it had, before stopping. His hand about two inches from the power button, he froze. There was a feeling that he''d gotten a few times in his life, when something had almost gone cataclysmically wrong. He''d dropped a knife once at a shitty kitchen job, and it had landed about three "oh shits" away from a co-worker''s face. He''d almost run over a dog once, just barely missing it by an almost accidental swerve. And he''d accidentally set his desk on fire once, putting it out before it got too bad, but still leaving that scorch scar on it forever. And now, he felt something similar. That feeling of dread, like he could see the mistake coming, and didn''t want anything to do with it, but couldn''t stop it. So he froze. Looked down. Saw the flashing blue LED on the front of the computer tower pointed up at him, slit down the middle like an iris. Saw the CD tray opened just a bit, and a row of circuit board teeth inside. Slowly. Ever so slowly, he pulled his hand away. Swearing inside, because he''d set his crowbar against the wall by the opening into this cubicle when he got excited about the computer. His heart rate spiked. How many of these things were there? Was every PC and laptop in this place hostile? Was he surrounded right now? Maybe it hadn''t seen him. Maybe it couldn''t move. Maybe a lot of things. James only had a few seconds to decide what to do, and so he decided to play it cool. He hadn''t had any of these things go for his ankles yet, so either this was the first one, or it wasn''t going to attack him if he didn''t touch it. "Ah, sorry friend." He said in a shaky voice. "Didn''t see you there." And slowly rolled the chair back. It didn''t move. The CD tray closed. James sighed out a lifetime of tension. As he backed out of the cubicle, snagging his crowbar on the way, he muttered to himself, "There goes a year off my lifespan. This place is gonna give me a heart attack." Now a good deal more paranoid, he kept going at a slower rate. Through the endless beige cloth walls, at some points the taupe office fortifications linking together overhead to form ecru arches. When he realized he was just running through a list of synonyms for beige in his head, he started to calm down a bit and stop making his legs ache with his exhausting sneak-walk. The area around him was more or less the same as it ever was, but he was starting to notice a few new features that were showing up as he progressed. Small banners or drapes of blank printer paper hanging from arched overhangs and walls, occasional blisters of sharpened pencils coming out of the tops of cubicle walls, things like that. They made the surroundings feel less¡­ dead. Less stale. Like it was more of a living place. He had to stop a couple times to put up most signs, when he felt like he was about to lose track of the last one he''d stuck up. He hadn''t taken many turns, but this whole place seemed to just be a grid, with a few quirks, so as long as he had line of sight to at least one of the signs, he was pretty sure he could get back safely. Of course, when he tried to put up the third sign, the stapler he grabbed wasn''t inanimate, and this one went for his fingers. That same stapler got slammed into the wall, then hammered with a crowbar until it couldn''t get up again. A few days ago James had briefly considered the idea of trying to take skill orbs out into the real world. But now, having one in front of him again, bitter taste of a mild adrenaline rush in his mouth from something trying to stab him, he found he couldn''t help himself and popped it before thinking about holding onto it. [+1 Skill Rank : Recipe - Pancakes] "That is... almost useful!" James exclaimed as he found another (real) stapler and finished putting up the sign. "I mean, I already knew how to make pancakes. Kind of. In theory. I could make pancakes in potentia, anyway. I wonder how much better at making pancakes this makes me?" He stepped out into the hall, took a deep breath, and looked down the hall. It looked like the line of cubicles ended up ahead. Oh, sure, there were still intersections around him, forks in the path, but if he followed this line, he could see a large flat table in a more open space, fluorescent lighting pouring down onto it. The whole thing brought to his mind a scene of a single large rock in a forest clearing, sunlight pouring down onto a holy object, protected against man and nature. Except here, it was shitty, overly bright white light, and instead of a holy object, it was a cup of coffee. Which, given how tired he was from work, may as well be an object of divine power. Smiling, he set forward, keeping an eye out for any surprises. He was about ready for a change in scenery. Time to check out the break room. Questions And Answers Can orbs be combined? - MrMaradok Specifically, I think this was asked in the context of totemizing the orbs. To which the answer is, yup! The coffee machine they have is actually an example of a combined orb, though they never opened it to find out what it is. What¡¯s up with the double Anesh - superkamimarvin It¡¯s vaguely referenced in the epilogue, but for clarity, whatever Anesh did when he absorbed an orange allowed him to make a copy of himself. As of yet, no one has been able to replicate that, and no one is sure if they¡¯d get the same effect. Does naming things give them power, if the dungeon is powered by meaning? - Elaborate If that¡¯s the case, it¡¯s probably not a great idea for Sarah to already have named it. But as to the actual answer, sort of? Maybe? From an author¡¯s perspective, maybe I don¡¯t know yet. Rufus and Ganesh certainly seem to have grown and evolved over time, and they have names. But we haven¡¯t exactly had a recurring office entity to deal with that was unnamed yet. The only ones that show up more than once are, like, the tumblefeed? And that gets set on fire. What¡¯s outside of the window? - craxuan The things that are trying to come through the window. Also maybe a tree. Timing for the next book? - Hiro2000, DrMonty, Lepidolite Mica, lots of others Probably looking at early October. I hope to have a little backlog built up by then. What was up with the bathroom? - Askeron32 I initially intended for them to get there eventually, and have that be where Sarah and her team had gotten lost/taken. But then I shifted gears, and decided on a conference room and a hive mind thing for the showdown and rescue, and the bathrooms no longer fit the bill. They¡¯re still there, still waiting to be explored. They¡¯ve got free-floating chunks of porcelain and tile, flows of water that defy gravity, and a non-zero number of nasty surprises. There is no ¡°other side¡± of the restrooms, they have one entrance, and they go *up*. That¡¯s all. There might be something worthwhile at the top. There might be a dragon at the top. Why? I dunno, I like dragons. You may have noticed the abundance of dragons lately. Why do you like dragons so much? - Someone, probably, after reading that last answer. When I was four my parents made the mistake of buying me a stuffed dragon. I named him Dragon, he¡¯s the fucking best dragon, and I still have him. This, most likely, started me down a long road to being a colossal fucking nerd, and was great. Also dragons are cool. Plot threads that got lost in development? - Askeron32, EggVolks Oh my goodness so many of them. The bathrooms, as mentioned. Just never got around to them. I was gonna do a thing where Dave betrayed them, but then Dave turned out to be more interesting, so I was gonna do it with JP, but I never got a chance to explore his character and I actually like the person I *said* he was, so I didn¡¯t wanna. There was also sort of a thread at one point about skills being active versus passive, but I didn¡¯t focus on that and instead settled on an internal canon that Anesh¡¯s idea of ¡°active¡± was just ¡°things I am actively focusing on¡±. Frank was gonna be more of a high priest of the dungeon, or maybe just Karen specifically, but writing lines for that felt weird and awkward compared to just making him an immoral and bitter old asshole with too much power. The big one, of course, was Secret. Secret was initially not going to happen. At all. There was going to be a thing about a hard limit of how many people they could tell, and that was gonna be it. Then I wrote two chapters while really tired, and decided I wanted Alanna in, and ALSO showed James using a weapon when he shouldn¡¯t have been able to. My master stroke to explain these was the life form that would eventually grow into Secret. It was a last minute scramble to explain a mistake, and I couldn¡¯t be happier with how he turned out. And then, of course, there''s the originaly ending. When I started this, The Daily Grind was supposed to be maybe, *maybe* ten chapters long. It was going to be about a young man, losing a fight with crippling depression, who found a way to cope with it through deadly encounters and adrenaline. And it was going to end with James walking into the dungeon, and never coming out. Then, instead, it turned into a story about a young man, engaged in a fight with crippling depression, winning that fight through the support of his friends. A little on the nose, maybe. Name for the sequel? - Askeron32 I¡¯m honestly not sure! I feel like, if I even give it a separate name, it¡¯d *have* to be a pun that matched any new situation or dungeon they found, right? Road To Predation is an option bouncing around my skullspace, but I haven¡¯t settled on anything just yet. What can the orbs NOT give a skill level in? - Thegodforce Things that humanity has yet to have achieved. You¡¯re not going to find a skill orb that makes it easier to use phased plasma weaponry in the forty watt range, or necromancy, or anything like that. Has to be a real skill. Related, what exactly is a skill rank? - Several people. An amount of ability. It''s never been made clear, even to me. Though, if you were to pit two people of known skill ranks against each other, without outside context, the higher rank would always win. So, like, chess, for example. Someone with two ranks will always beat someone with one rank, assuming no outside influences. Sort of related to that, my roommate suggested that the skill ranks are actually an Elo system for all of humanity, and that by ranking up, they''re just demarking who they are better than. So, if you made it to the "top", you''d be as good as the best person has ever been, but you could not go up from there. I dunno if that''s how it works, but it''s a funny thought. Why so many dreams? - Terramendous Dreamscapes are a great way to write surreal fiction, even more so than the unreality of the Office. It lets me contrast with both the real world they live in, and the unreal world they explore, by having scenes that just don¡¯t make much sense sometimes. It also turned into a great way to have scenes with Secret, and I love Secret so much. Are they now totally locked out of the dungeon? - Dr. Monty Nope! Door still works! The dungeon can¡¯t have the door not work, actually. This was another dropped plot point that stayed as internal canon; 24 hours in the Office is 24 hours on Earth, but they don¡¯t line up perfectly. It has doors open for maybe twenty minutes total, in weird places, and while those doors are open, time is compressed into that chunk. But one day is still one day, so it equals out. Anyway, there are other doors, is the point. Did the dungeon choose them? Or was it really just random chance? - VonWolf The dungeon didn¡¯t choose them. It really was just random chance. Frank knew about it pretty much the whole time, but didn¡¯t care as long as he was getting paid. Since he wasn¡¯t being paid for *James*, specifically, he just let James and company do their thing, and took the money, while feeding other people to Karen, and taking its money. The dungeon, being suppressed by Karen from the moment James first stepped inside, had no say in any of this. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. How the hell did Dave get out of the endless void? - Lots of people. Just as lots of people asked this question, lots of people also had their own ideas for how Dave could have survived. Pendragon was already heading in his direction, thanks to the blue that he cracked when he and James were trying to figure out how to cross that chasm (Location known, if you remember that bit). So his return trip was already booked. But as for how he got out of the void? Well, personally, I¡¯m fond of the idea that he drifted there until he got bored, then broke the gameboy when it showed up, and used that blue. Someone also suggested that he burn the rest of his ¡°remove half of¡± charges to¡­ in some way impulse back toward an exit. I can¡¯t remember how it was phrased, but it used some kind of wonky physics that I believe worked. But *man* were there a lot of suggestions for this one. I didn¡¯t realize how many people were invested in Dave living. What do the decision trees actually eat? - EggVolks Choices. Also, electricity. Why the love triangle? - some_dude This one was contentious. Like, I did not expect how much hate I¡¯d get from people just for the James and Anesh thing, much less for including Alanna in it. The reason *why* I initially planned to make James and Anesh boyfriends because I thought it was cute. They seemed to have a really good close friendship, and it was sort of wish fulfillment on my part; writing a character who rolled a better potential boyfriend than I did. And then, when I realized I wanted to expand the cast, and that Alanna was¡­ Alanna¡­ it just made sense for her to sort of bulldoze the relationship forward once she became comfortable with it. I hope it doesn¡¯t come across as too preachy here, but I really wish there were more poly relationships in fiction. I know of *two*, and they¡¯re both in sci-fi stories that I find kinda problematic. Recent demographic surveys put between 5% to 25% of the US as some kind of poly, or interested in it, and it feels weird to me that basically every piece of genre fiction I read that has a relationship, is heterosexual and monogamous. Personally, I¡¯m proud to be one of the few people writing good representation for something different, even if that wasn¡¯t what I set out to do, and more just how the characters evolved and spoke to me. What made you laugh when writing this? - lorty I don¡¯t normally laugh at my own jokes when I write them, but then I forget about them and reread it a month later, and just die laughing. Which is good, I guess? It¡¯s good that my own humor amuses me. The most recent thing that springs to mind is James telling Momo that they give everything pun names, with the exception of the electric mouse, and then just that beat of silence and the unspoken question of ¡°...pokemon?¡±. Why no baby striders? - Kezdet, probably. The Life in the dungeon can¡¯t reproduce independently. What are some of the potential exploits for the infinite matter of the magazine? - Lots of people, though Vorchin specifically reminded me of this one Man, people just won¡¯t forget about that thing. Okay. Let¡¯s start small, then get big. First off, free paper, I guess? Like, that¡¯s not nothing. Automate the system of removing pages, and you could set up a pulp assembly line of, like, a tree or two an hour? That is faster than trees grow naturally, so while it¡¯s not huge, it would probably let you run a successful paper products company. But let¡¯s think bigger. How about burning it? We already know that doesn¡¯t ¡°destroy¡± it for the orb (what the fuck even WOULD?), so what about setting it on fire, and using that heat to produce electricity? You¡­ might not get much. Paper burns inefficiently. Even if you started a roaring inferno of Pony Things (yes I remember the name of this, but not the names of some of my friends), you¡¯re probably not getting more than a current of a couple hundred watts, max. Let¡¯s go bigger. What if you built a star? Yeah, that¡¯s right, I skipped all the boring middle ground stuff. Build a fucking star. Build a drone that removes pages and staples from the magazine, put it in deep space with some kind of paper-burning powerplant, and give it a few thousand years. Or hundred thousand years. Eventually, you¡¯re going to have enough paper to form a gravity well. And *eventually*, enough gravity to condense the iron of the staples into a core, and initiate a fusion. And boom, entropy reversed. Fuck you, heat death of the universe. Fuck you, desert of nihilism. Me and my copy of Just Pony Things are going to build an infinite and eternal paradise. *Ahem* Anyway, not many practical uses, no. Ways to make money off the dungeon? - Malarid brought this up a long time ago. Well, the ¡°build a star¡± thing probably isn¡¯t great, fiscally. There¡¯s a few, though. Assuming you can control hostile action from the dungeon itself, you could honestly probably use it as a game preserve. Build a hotel in there. Like, a real one. Charge wealthy old guys an obscene amount of money to let them hunt a tumblefeed or a terrorbyte. That¡¯s sort of colonialism at its almost-worst, though. You could always do as one person suggested, and dismantle *everything* to sell on Craigslist or something. Cube walls aren¡¯t cheap, it turns out. But that requires a lot of extra effort. Same for computer parts, which they have actually already done, but takes some effort and you have to make sure the parts aren''t literal magic first. Honestly? The easiest way to make money of this? Probably just sell it to the government. Ring, cick, hello yes is this the department of security? I have a deal for you. Obviously, not exactly how that would go, but you¡¯re more likely to get a large lump sum of cash, and then never be allowed near anything more dangerous than string ever again. Are you tech support in real life? - Dr Monty Yes, for my sins. Voices for characters for an audiobook - based on Lepidolite Mica¡¯s comment Honestly, I don¡¯t think I have enough different actors and voices in my head to make a good run of this. Maybe get Ronda Rousey to voice Alanna; she¡¯s got basically the same kind of physical and verbal *presence* that I imagine from Alanna, even if my version of the personality is a little less aggressive and a little more snarky. Beyond that, I don¡¯t think I have anything for the others. Part of me wants to say get Steve Blum to voice someone, just¡­ because. Maybe Frank. How far do green orbs stretch? - lots of people As far as the boundaries of the conceptual space they were used in. The one used in the Office itself covered that ¡°room¡±, everything up to the first central wall they found. The one that Alanna used in the playground covered that playground. Same for their apartment; someone mentioned once that if they bulldoze that building, it¡¯ll be weird that the temperature there doesn¡¯t work properly, but in truth, if that building was destroyed, there wouldn¡¯t be ¡°an apartment¡± for the effect to be attached to. With the skull jacks is it 100% guaranteed to hive mind you, or can they set up like firewalls to keep their individuality? - Dorrin The skulljacks create a connection in the same way that computers do. Which is to say, two networked computers accept different inputs, and store their information separately, but at a certain level of integration, become the same device. Two humans that stayed linked long enough would cease to be two humans. The reason that Evil-Karen''s hive mind was so deleterious was that it had ultimate control over it, and the people in it, and they kept their personalities intact-but-traumatized because they weren''t leaning into the connection How many people know about the dungeons, worldwide? - TerriblePerson It¡¯s under 10k people, for sure. Though I¡¯d still say it¡¯s probably a four digit number. Is that all just individuals? Maybe. Might be a few small guild-esque organizations in there. Maybe a forgotten government agency, or an exploitative corporation. But the knowledge wouldn¡¯t be widespread just because of how the dungeons keep secrets. Which is to say; via magic in a lot of weird ways. How, actually, do the skulljacks work? - Half of the discord server. Cleverly. Okay, no, there¡¯s a few points that I wanted to bring up. Yes, information security is about to become a much more important profession. Yes, some people will undoubtedly use these for crimes. Yes, the team decided that the perks were worth it. No, you probably shouldn¡¯t plug your brain into a corpse. As for the actual mechanics, well, those we¡¯ll see more of later. Musical Accompaniment? - Uncle Ibex Many of the chapters have the music I was listening to while I wrote it, but there were a few songs that I had on my playlist, that I would often compose chapters to in my head while walking. I don¡¯t know if I could compose a full soundtrack for the whole story, but I could probably give it a shot. Anyway, here¡¯s a few of the highlights that I really dig, and would like to share. Oddly enough, this is one of the few times that I haven¡¯t actually had character theme songs in mind. Normally I do, but I just don¡¯t have anything that fits James or Alanna or whatever. So, if *you guys* have any ideas, leave em in the comments! Announcement Hello again, everyone! It''s been a while since we last spoke. And I suppose you''re wondering why I called you here today. Well, let me not take up too much of your time. Let us get, as the kids say, to the *point*. The Daily Grind is coming back. Soon. As in, on October 1st, soon. Book two will be starting up again, with a chapter posted roughly every five days or so thereafter, until it''s done. And boy does it seem like this one might take a few more words than book one, so "until it''s done" could take a while. Now, here''s some other good news. Remember when I said at the end of book one that I was gonna stop writing for a while and rest my fingers? I didn''t really do that. I''ve been hard at work in the story mines, digging up delightful chunks of chapter ore to share with you all. And there is a slight backlog of TDG chapters ready to go. Eleven of them, in fact. Maybe more, by next week! And, in a delightfully capitalist ploy, I''ve decided to make the majority of those chapters available early for anyone who''s backing at the $5 tier over on Patreon. Stolen story; please report. Early as in, they are being posted tomorrow. Now, maybe you''re not too keen on giving me money. That''s fine! You''ll still get all the adventures of Secret, James, Secret, Anesh, Secret, Alanna, Secret, and the most important character, Secret, as soon as they go live here. Nothing will be held back. But maybe you''re looking for some other reason to visit my Patreon account while not giving me money? Good news; there''s a handful of new short stories posted there as well, available to the public and of only the highest quality. That''s all I''ve got to announce today! Hope you''re all as excited to read what''s coming up as I am to share it with you. Questions and Answers 2 Through book two, there are a few times where the number of delves don¡¯t line up to the amount of time passing. Is this intentional? Sort of. I tried to mention that not everyone is going on every delve, or give reasons why they¡¯re skipping a week of *literal magical power collection*, but overall, it¡¯s just that I need time to pass for some things to make sense and delves take kind of a long time to write compared to things like conversations and other interpersonal interactions. Also, handwaving a delve as ¡°and they went into the office and nothing bad happened¡± lets me kind of circle back later and imply they have orbs that weren¡¯t seen on screen. Which is sort of an author cheat, but one I try to not lean on too much, and mostly use for comic effect. What happened to Javier (the kid who first turned them onto the school dungeon)? He kinda dropped out of the story at some point. He¡¯s not dead or antimemed, I just haven¡¯t found the right place to reintroduce him. I¡¯m also not sure if he¡¯ll end up being a frequent character; his methods don¡¯t really line up with the Order. But I certainly will get around to showing what¡¯s up with him at some point, and their paths aren¡¯t done crossing. What are greens? What do you get for absorbing them? They¡¯re orbs! Can absorbed yellows push someone past a natural lifespan? Kind of. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever really explained this that well, and I need to put it into the text at some point. The yellows are the energy to create or sustain life. So, *yes*, they can keep you alive past what your body should allow; this is how James got himself to the hospital with a bullet lodged in his heart. But the more work they have to do, the faster they¡¯re going to burn through their allotted power. If someone is in a body that¡¯s so old that it¡¯s falling apart in multiple ways, you¡¯re going to have increasingly smaller returns on each orb. They can only go so far. How long is your cheat sheet for skills and powers and stuff? A few people asked this. I think because everyone¡¯s starting to realize that I¡¯m actually really bad at taking notes! In fact, I rely on one of my excellent readers to keep an updated list of all the character upgrades. And the list is getting looooooong. It turns out that when there¡¯s no upper limit for yellows, there¡¯s not much motivation for people to not just keep getting better at as much as they can. Which of Hilbert''s problems does Anesh think he''s solved? Ah! And here we get to a much, *much* deeper problem! I have a confession to make; I am bad at math. I am actually bad at a lot of things! I don¡¯t think this is a huge surprise; but it does loop into a big problem with writing The Daily Grind, a story where people frequently get sudden skill points in wildly different skills. See, I want to show specific knowledge about stuff that the characters are picking up, so that we can sort of have a set of guideposts for just how good they are. This includes with Anesh, who isn¡¯t so much boosted by yellows as he is just *smart*. But writing smart people is a huge challenge when they¡¯re smarter than you at specific things. So I name-drop things that I can figure out as being important from under half an hour on Wikipedia. I would do more research, but at a certain point, I get diminishing returns. I try my best to not be outright wrong, and I edit actual factual errors whenever I have them pointed out to me. But unfortunately, despite what some people have suggested, I do not have access to Officium Mundi in real life, and I just don¡¯t have the knowledge of all these skills whirling through my head. Do you have access to Officium Mundi in real life, and this story is just a record of real events? No. I¡¯d be able to write so much faster if I had a skulljack, are you kidding? I¡¯ve got so many stories that I just don¡¯t have time or mental energy to put to paper. And ironically, if I was spending large chunks of my life dungeon delving, I¡¯d probably have way more ability to write faster. We haven¡¯t seen a lot of Rufus and Ganesh in book two; what¡¯s up with that? Rufus and Ganesh are excellent. I love them a lot as characters. But their lack of high level communication kinda means that they get a backseat to characters who talk to each other, even if it¡¯s just the camracondas that¡¯re still learning language in general. I did consider giving Rufus a voice through a skulljack, but it feels weird for some reason. Like language just isn¡¯t something that he¡¯d be comfortable with. Still, though, I¡¯ll try to keep them involved on screen. Ganesh, especially has never really been obsoleted as a powerful delving ally. And they really are both cool dudes. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! What''s the most alien viewpoint you currently plan on writing, and have we encountered them yet? I think it might be the dungeons? But even then, they¡¯re not really ¡®alien¡¯, are they? For all that they¡¯re weird as fuck and have different priorities than people, I think it¡¯s clear by now that those priorities are understandable, and are mostly about needs and instincts. Like, the camracondas have to supplement their food intake with security footage to get their full nutritional balance; but that¡¯s just a *need*. Humans understand needs pretty well; we¡¯ve got a fuckton of them. And the dungeons are creatures of our world, just like we are. We¡¯re all on this rock together, and as far as anyone in the story knows, there isn¡¯t a dungeon on the moon. So maybe the most alien voice I¡¯ll write will be when I suddenly take a hard right turn with the story and make the plot about a literal alien invasion? Who knows. What¡¯s the hardest thing to write? Idiots. And I don¡¯t mean, like, people who don¡¯t know things. I mean people who are willfully ignorant, or buy into far-right conspiracy theories, or are race supremacists or something. And it¡¯s not like they¡¯re hard to write because there¡¯s a lack of reference material, sadly. It¡¯s more that, if I were to go to the Twitter account of actual people who actually believe a lot of really absolutely moronic and hateful things, and I copied their tweets verbatim to form dialogue for The Daily Grind, then people would complain that I¡¯m using strawman arguments. This is a massive problem for me, because as some of you may have noticed, The Daily Grind is not apolitical. I mean, no art is apolitical, no matter what the authors of certain things want you to think. But here, both the characters and authors have opinions. And even when I don¡¯t believe exactly what the characters are saying, I¡¯m still trying to give them a fair shake. Which is *really hard to do* with people who are¡­ you know¡­ quoting Nazis and acting like that¡¯s normal. Alright, that¡¯s about as soap-boxy as I¡¯m gonna get here. Moving on before I get too deep in the weeds. Are there any orbs you made that you realised afterwards were actually way too exploitable (perhaps because of comments) and so you had to slyly move on and hope everyone forgot so you didn''t break the setting? Surprisingly, not really. The diminishing returns effect on duplicated orbs means that even really powerful purples cap out eventually, and copying them requires a certain delay that makes it easier to write. Like, it takes time to ramp up ¡®production¡¯ of copies, so it tends to be one orb that goes to the entire Order once or twice, rather than one person getting a dozen orbs. And no specific orb or power or anything has been world-shattering, because all these powers are focused in a small group of people. That said, James and Sarah being able to finagle the extra hour of sleep in their apartment between the two of them allllllmost makes for one human with no need for more than a quick nap every day. I think that might be the biggest gain. Also, I fully *expected* the bonus to James¡¯ jump height to matter at some point. Since writing that, he has jumped over exactly zero things. I¡¯m a bit disappointed in myself, as an author. So I guess the answer is ¡°no, and I¡¯m shocked it hasn¡¯t¡±. Last time you had some songs you used as a mental soundtrack. Are there different ones for book two? The Garages - In The Feedback (Live at Desert Bus). This one is my opening title song this time, and I will pay a thousand dollars to anyone who actually makes an anime OP for The Daily Grind with it. I am not kidding. Half Alive - Still Feel. Outro, naturally. I like the vibe this one puts off, it feels very ¡®end of summer¡¯ to me. Vincent Moretto - The Liberation of Gracemeria (Metal Remix). This one is actually a really sick guitar cover of a song off the Ace Combat soundtrack, and it is awesome as a backdrop for any action scene. I listened to this a lot while writing the story. Blues Image - Ride Captain Ride. For the epilogue. I first heard this song as the ending to a story that got me motivated to begin writing in the first place, and it still makes me cry. Miracle Of Sound - Dream Again. I wish that I could find appropriate theme songs for every character I write, but I¡¯m just not good at it. If anyone has any suggestions for what song embodies James or Anesh, or any member of the cast, please let me know. This one, though, is the one I know exactly who it''s for. This is Secret¡¯s music, and it always has been. How long until book three starts? Book three is now three chapters in for Patrons (at time of writing, I will never update this information). Once it¡¯s seven chapters ahead, which is where I like to keep Patrons at, then I¡¯ll begin public releases again. Which means in about a month, barring another health issue that keeps me from working. Book one seemed to be about discovery and stepping into the role of the hero. Book two was about establishment and stepping into the role of the administrator. What will book three focus on? Is this an intentional theme? Second off, no. I never really tried to have a broader theme, though if that¡¯s your read on it, it is absolutely legitimate. I find it amazingly cool that people can look at the first two books and find that thread of connection there. That just makes me feel so satisfied in my author-brain. First of all, from a narrative perspective, book three is going to be about the Order reaching out to the wider world. There¡¯s gonna be more interpersonal stuff, and also more dungeon stuff. And more smooching. That¡¯s all that¡¯s in my notes so far, though. Are you ever going to take the story down to sell an eBook? No. I may make an epub version at some point, and maybe the site changes ownership or policies and that¡¯ll push me to remove it. But I like my work being freely available. If you want to support me, I do have a patreon, but the grand majority of what I make will be out in the open. How would you go about making the story more gay? After all this time getting comments, reviews, and messages that were mad about James and Anesh kissing, it¡¯s kinda nice to finally get something going the opposite direction. I dunno! I didn¡¯t really focus on the romantic side of the relationship for most of the book, despite its presence being contentious. Maybe I¡¯ll just dive into that a little bit more; the dynamics of how our main trio interacts. Maybe we¡¯ll see a little bit of the other relationships that are forming in the Order. Some of them are bound to be at least a little gay. Hell, Deb¡¯s dating a camraconda, that¡¯s already a step in the right direction. This isn¡¯t a question, just a placeholder for a line break before I say... Alright! Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I hope everyone enjoyed the ride that Book 2 has been, and I look forward to seeing you all back when the break is over! As always, thanks for reading. I write this to be read, and your comments and questions keep me motivated through a lot of stuff. So thank you. And I¡¯ll see you all in a month. Chapter 130 ¡°Arm yourself, because no one else here will save you.¡± - Chris Cornell, You Know My Name- James hated this building, right now. The not-so-young-anymore man sat in his car, outside a three story white house in the middle of the Beaverton suburbs. The front yard, instead of a lawn, was a brick terrace and small garden. A basketball hoop sat in the driveway next to a familiar battered red pickup truck. The building was perched halfway up a fairly steep hill, annoying as a driver who needed to park smoothing, but an amazing boon when James was growing up as a kid and could sail his bike downhill at Mach 2. His parents weren¡¯t home. They probably wouldn¡¯t ever be again. He¡¯d been inside already, knew that most of the furniture was there but most of the personal stuff wasn¡¯t. Knew the home was empty. He didn¡¯t really have a reason to be here, at all. But it was thanksgiving. He¡¯d never once missed a family thanksgiving. Even that one year he¡¯d been having such a bad depressive episode that he¡¯d been unable to do anything but sit on the floor of his old bedroom, leaning against the wall and just fidgeting with his own hair and generally trying to keep holding on. He¡¯d still *been there*. Now there was no there to go. His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. ¡°Yo.¡± He answered, the surge of energy he always put forward when he interacted with people keeping his voice steady. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± He asked his boyfriend. ¡°Where are you?¡± From the other end of the line, the light London accent of Anesh came through. ¡°I can¡¯t find you anywhere at the Lair.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ errand.¡± James settled on, wincing at how suspicious he knew that sounded. ¡°What¡¯s up? Again.¡± He could almost hear Anesh rolling his eyes over the phone. ¡°We have a small issue.¡± In that instant, James wanted to scream. Tear his hair out, claw his steering wheel to shreds, launch his whole car into a lake, and *howl* at the universe that just Would. Not. Stop. Piling more and more and more things on them. First, the Office itself. Then the problems talking to people about it. Then it had taken months before it escalated, with the fight with Frank and his hostile infomorph, to the trailblazing through the dungeon to reach his victims and extract them. Then, another dungeon. Then, El showing up. After that, a period of relative quiet, before there¡¯d been more people to rescue, albeit snake shaped ones. The formation of the Order of Endless Rooms, and all the stress that came with that. And then the School eating people, then Status Quo, then a dungeon breaching into reality, then the assault on their own headquarters. Alanna missing. So many dead. So much lost. Problems to clean up. The stupid ethercat was still out there somewhere, probably being a *massive* problem. The building was still being rebuilt, and this time with more defenses than anyone should reasonably have. Random high school students kept coming by to visit them and ask for a job, even seeing the battle damage. The FBI sent another goon to replace their lost one. And even over all of that, the Order moved forward with its plans to try to do good, as aggressively as they could. About a thousand people had their special number now. A test group, for their emergency response team. The ERT were some of the best they had, with a mix of powers and skills that should, in theory, let them resolve most mundane situations without concern. They¡¯d gotten a few dozen fake calls, at first. And then, a few real ones. And as the groups started to cohere into a real unit, they proved themselves again and again. Fights stopped, crimes solved, first aid provided, suicide prevention, rescue available. They tallied their victories in lives saved. They needed way more people, and more money, before they could fully replace the police. But they were doing it. Making a difference. Even if it was only a small one for now. It was also exhausting, though, and another thing on the pile that James felt himself being crushed by day by day. So when Anesh said the magic words¡­ ¡°I refuse.¡± James replied cheerfully. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot going on right now, and I just don¡¯t think ¡®small issues¡¯ are a thing that I should be taking on.¡± He couldn¡¯t help but smile a little as he spoke. He also took it as a personal triumph; a large part of him considered just hanging up and driving off to Iowa or something. ¡°James. Come on mate.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I was just going to complain about Nate¡¯s dinner menu. It¡¯s actually a ¡®small issue¡¯. Nothing world ending.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ I shamefully admit that I assumed this was going to be another¡­ another¡­¡± James tried to find the words and found he couldn¡¯t. It was too much. He was too tired. Not physically tired, just a soul-deep exhaustion that crept through his heart and his hands with insidious determination. He could hear the worry in Anesh¡¯s reply. ¡°Get your butt back here and enjoy Thanksgiving with us.¡± His boyfriend said, before hanging up. James could almost hear him sticking his tongue out. James smiled as he casually tossed his phone into his car¡¯s cup holder. In the ongoing tally of how upended his life had been in the last couple years, the part where he had a boyfriend now was somehow one of the smaller events of note. And yet, it meant so much to him. He loved Anesh, with all his heart. And he knew his partner loved him back. And sometimes, when they made use of the ports in the back of their skulls they *knew* it in a way that most humans never would. Minds linked together, feeling together, sharing everything; it was so easy to lose your fear, and commit to a deepening affection, when you knew the people you loved felt the same way about you. His smile lost a bit of luster as he pulled his car out of park and started the trip back to their home base. Thanks to one of the many pieces of magical bullshit they had going on, the drive would be shorter than it otherwise should. But that still left him a little time to think. The skulljacks. Originally an infectious method of control devised by one of the monsters that lurked outside reality to turn humans into a puppet network. Now, co-opted by their Order to be used as tools in the ongoing betterment of humanity. They could do so much. They were ideal for therapy, research, programming, teaching¡­ ...small unit combat¡­ interrogation...mind control¡­ compromising digital security¡­ And they still spread, without much effort. The things were a ticking time bomb. And the one person doing the most work on building safety measures was dead now. James had interviews lined up for the next week. That wasn¡¯t nothing. He hadn¡¯t done it himself; Anesh and Deb and Reed had collectively cast a net and dragged up a slew of people who were at least hopefully suitable for this life. But it felt very bleak, to him, to be working to replace a *person*. There were holes in their Order. Holes shaped like individuals, like lives. And he felt like they¡¯d never truly fill those in. Nor should they try. He pulled into the parking lot to the Lair suddenly, not realizing he was almost at his destination, and scraping his bumper against the steep slope that went over the sidewalk and into the lot. It wasn¡¯t just the bonus to travel time that got him here so early this time; not many people on the road on a major holiday like this. Even in the middle of a pandemic, too. Although maybe that was helping keep people home, though James cynically doubted it. There were a couple dozen cars in the lot. He parked around back. The Order wasn¡¯t exactly unaware of the wide scale of the disease currently ravaging the world, but the fact that for most of them their social circle was ¡°exactly these people and no one else¡±, and that most of them by this point had a certain amount of resistance to disease in general, left them feeling fairly comfortable about gathering together. James wished that more of them had more social options. But about a third of the order was made up of people who were rescued from that aforementioned human puppet network, and anyone who got lost in Officium Mundi for a long period of time had their recorded identity, as well as any memories of them, gradually eroded by the place¡¯s memeplexes. So for many people, they were pulled out of a nightmare only to be told that their families didn¡¯t know who they were, their friends had forgotten them months ago, and they didn¡¯t legally exist. Another third of the Order of Endless rooms were camracondas. Creations of the dungeon, having found free will by accident and been liberated by the Order. They didn¡¯t really have friends outside the group either. Though that was for different reasons. It wasn¡¯t like they weren¡¯t allowed to go make friends. James was *very clear* on the fact that they were not a conspiracy. He might not be willing to randomly share the knowledge of the source of their powers, but he had no problem with sharing the weird and wonderful with anyone who happened to cross their paths. The camracondas just didn¡¯t go wandering into places to say hi to people. At first because they were shy or afraid. Being a six foot long snake made of corded cabling with a basilisk camera for a head could be offputting, and they were self conscious about it. Now, though, it was more because there was nowhere to meet people. James hated the pandemic, so much. He¡¯d tasked multiple people with finding a way to end it, but even all the magic they had at their disposal didn¡¯t actually provide an easy answer. Most of the arcana they dragged into reality acted like an effectiveness multiplier for the individual or the group. And fifty-ish people just didn¡¯t cut it for ending a problem on this scale. Which James found both frustrating, and humbling. They had a long way to go before he could start punching at that weight class. He stopped headbutting his steering wheel and got out of his car, still uncomfortable as he passed through the new entrance to the Lair. After the attack on their base by the remnants of Status Quo, along with as much hired muscle as they could put together, there had been significant damage to the building, in addition to a lot of cleanup to do. The new front facade was a testament to the Order¡¯s injury. No more plate glass windows; just meter thick concrete with a steel core running through it. No more having doors on both sides of the entryway. There was one door now, fortified and with interior controlled locks. The rest of the building was getting remodeled, too, with similar security in mind; the insurance payout from the ¡®gas leak explosion¡¯ covering far more than he¡¯d expected. So while the interior still basically reminded James of an especially eclectic clubhouse, the outside was starting to look like a fortress. ¡°You¡¯re here!¡± Sarah greeted him with a brilliant grin and one arm thrown wide. The other arm was in a sling; she¡¯d taken a bullet for someone during the attack, and was still recovering. And James knew from experience that the pain of an injury like that didn¡¯t go away just because the bleeding stopped. But a little something like back to back life threatening injuries wasn¡¯t enough to slow Sarah down, no sir. Partially because she was one tough cookie, but also because she had an ongoing upgrade to her health that made her heal faster, among other things.¡°There¡¯s a buffet setup in the kitchen, grab some food and come relax with everyone.¡± She said, offering a fist bump to James. ¡°Everyone?¡± James quirked an eyebrow as he returned the gesture, pushing away the extra sleep that Sarah tried to push into him through the brief contact. Sarah wasn¡¯t the only person in the front lobby, but it wasn¡¯t like it was packed in here. Just a handful of camracondas with a few human members of the Order mixed in. ¡°Are we doing some kinda group meeting?¡± ¡°We are doing *thanksgiving*, you boob!¡± Sarah tapped him on the forehead with her first two fingers. ¡°That¡¯s dangerously close to swearing, for you.¡± James smirked, dodging back from a second strike. Sarah pirouetted away, flourishing as she stepped back and motioned for him to get his ass to the kitchen. ¡°Bah!¡± She proclaimed. ¡°I can swear if I want to! But I¡¯m saving it for when we learn about the next world-shattering revelation.¡± ¡°Prudent.¡± James muttered. ¡°We¡¯re due for one, aren¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Anesh told me he said something dumb on the phone.¡± Sarah¡¯s voice got quiet as her tone turned worried. ¡°You doing okay?¡± ¡°No.¡± James said, honestly, not bothering to keep up the facade of banter. ¡°Alanna¡¯s missing. I¡¯m afraid to not be behind armored walls. And it hurts to breathe.¡± He subconsciously rubbed at his chest, itching at the surgery scar from where he¡¯d been shot around roughly the same time Sarah had been earning hers. ¡°Also I¡¯m depressed.¡± He appended. ¡°The whole acid thing isn¡¯t working?¡± She radiated concern at him. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s doing something.¡± James couldn¡¯t help a half smile. ¡°But I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s actually helping me remember anything. Maybe I need to do more than the very small doses I¡¯ve been using, or maybe there¡¯s nothing there and all I¡¯m getting is the vague hallucinatory impression of dragon-things.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Either way, it¡¯s not dangerous or anything, and it is...relaxing, I guess? But I¡¯m just not sure it¡¯s doing what I want.¡± ¡°What if you recalibrate what you want to just be dropping acid?¡± Sarah tried to cheer him up. ¡°Oh! We could go hang out in the attic and look at smoke patterns for several hours while we do drugs! Wanna do that?¡± ¡°Now?¡± ¡°No, after the party and the announcement thing.¡± ¡°Announcement thing?¡± James rubbed his forehead. ¡°Aren¡¯t I supposed to be in charge here? I should probably know about announcement things.¡± Sarah stuck her tongue out as the two of them passed through the hall to the back dining room. While they moved past the alcove with a leather couch in it that didn¡¯t show up on the other side of the wall, she answered, ¡°you keep telling us you don¡¯t wanna be responsible.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said quietly, not sure he wanted her to hear. ¡°Look where that got us.¡± More than a few members wounded, or dead. Sarah didn¡¯t reply to that. Instead, whatever she could or would have said was drowned out by the wave of voices and laughter that greeted the two of them as they strode into the dining area. The room had undergone some improvements of its own, since the damage to the building had been cleaned up. The old cafeteria tables, many of which were used as hard cover against bullets, had been replaced by a dozen different styles picked up from different furniture stores in the area. A couple of the really old ones had come from the nearby Habitat For Humanity store, and had then had a few screws tightened and a new coat of varnish put on in the back of the warehouse. The old benches had mostly been tossed too, the red plastic material no longer matching the aesthetic of actual adult furniture. James had pushed for those ridiculous armchairs that you could sink an entire human into, but he¡¯d been both busy and depressed, so he hadn¡¯t pushed too hard and the people who were holding the budget had opted for functionally comfortable dining chairs instead. There were no more raised windows around the outside. They¡¯d been replaced by concrete and rebar after they¡¯d been used a couple times as a vector for sniper fire. It made the interior lighting less vibrant, especially considering the building was enchanted to have more natural light. But that light had to have a source, and when windows were a liability, everyone grudgingly agreed to stick to an armored structure. James had pushed for a skylight. Again, not very hard. It hadn¡¯t happened. The little gym area had also been moved. There was a second back room here, originally intended to be some kind of private party room for whatever business was here before them. They¡¯d always used it for storing exercise equipment and sparring pads. Now, it was their security room, where camera feeds were funneled in, and where Dispatch took incoming emergency calls from civilians and assigned Response teams. It had *also* lost its windows. The exercise area had been moved to one of the basements. James had given up keeping track of which one. Instead, the space was just one big dining and gathering area. And as bizarre as it was to transfer between the outside world where the pandemic was a persistent threat, to this isolated social group that gathered together, it still felt comfortable to James. Even after the attack on their home, this room felt warm and safe. There were something like sixty people packed in here right now. Human, camraconda, infomorph, and one special case for ¡®stapler¡¯. Not that Rufus was the only outlier in their Order, but he was the only one present. The shellaxies didn¡¯t seem to possess the same level of intelligence yet, and Pendragon just didn¡¯t fit. But it was still full of life and friends and allies. Some members of the order had eschewed family dinners to be here tonight, which was a big ask for people considering that anyone who still had a family that remembered them was rare. A few others had just outright brought family members along. Which was spawning a lot of humor as young kids and cautious husbands tried to get along with delvers and camracondas. Everyone cheered as James walked in. Not anything planned, no ¡®surprise¡¯ or anything like that. Just a chorus of greetings and good moods that washed over him like a wall of sound. And suddenly, James understood. He was just like them, now. His old family snatched away, his new friends constantly in danger. The world was wild and horrifying. And for some reason, there was a whole building full of talented, kind, amazing people, who were willing to help him up and stand with him against the darkness. James felt something come loose in his heart, and he found himself grinning. Smiling so wide his cheeks hurt as he strode into the room, and into the crowd. ¡°Anesh,¡± He loudly proclaimed, ¡°called me half an hour ago, to tell me there was *an issue*.¡± James waited as the people who¡¯d heard him groaned in dismay. ¡°Turns out, he was upset about the dinner menu! So, where¡¯s Nate, and what has he done to the turkey?¡± ¡°I said I was sorry!¡± An iteration of Anesh yelled from somewhere across the room. Probably hiding under the buffet. James made his way over to investigate, letting the laughter and warmth surround him for a while. Nate and his apprentice kitchen staff, madmen that they were, had made a perfectly normal Thanksgiving meal. Then, because the Order contained a fair bit of cultural diversity, they¡¯d covered their bases by adding to the turkey and potatoes with a couple curries, a big plate of tamales, a large portion of marinated tofu, and a dozen side dishes that James plucked a tiny portion from each of. It took him two minutes, and the context of dating Anesh for the last several months, to come to the conclusion that his boyfriend had been mad that neither of the curry dishes were up to his exacting standard. James filed this under ¡®woefully inconsequential¡¯, rolled his eyes, and went to try to find a wall to lean on as he ate. While he appreciated that Nate had found the *good* cranberry sauce for these festivities - that is to say, the canned jelly stuff that wasn¡¯t ¡®real¡¯ cranberry sauce but who cares shut up - James quickly fell into the pattern of people coming to him with questions and concerns. Karen came by to keep him up to date on their search for his family, which he tried not to get emotional about. JP swung past to tell James that he needed more money, which James had no problem at all not getting emotional about. Nate just poked his head out of the kitchen¡¯s swinging double doors to glance at where James was leaned against the wall eating, asked him if the deviled eggs needed more salt, and then vanished again. James appreciated Nate a lot. He needed to let him know. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve got a thing you need to know about, and I¡¯m sorry in advance.¡± Dave was saying to him. James let out a small ¡®huh¡¯, and tilted his head, not really having noticed his friend¡¯s approach. ¡°Because you commented about Anesh¡¯s issue thing earlier, and I¡­¡± ¡°Dave. I¡¯m fine. What¡¯s up?¡± James replied, only half paying attention. There was something in the base of his thoughts, trying to remind him of something. ¡°The school shifted again.¡± Dave said. That got James¡¯ attention instantly. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. It hasn¡¯t eaten anyone, but it¡¯s open again now.¡± James let go of the nagging memory, focusing narrowed eyes on Dave. His friend had lowered his voice, clearly not wanting to panic anyone here, so this wasn¡¯t common knowledge yet. ¡°What¡¯s changed?¡± He asked, equally quiet. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. A small shrug in response. ¡°It¡¯s open.¡± Dave said simply. ¡°It¡¯s not a breach anymore, either. It¡¯s more like Officium Mundi. Every few nights, there¡¯s another turn on the ramp to the lower level classrooms, and it goes to a door, and the door goes to the sewer. We can¡¯t figure out if the time is consistent yet.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t anyone tell me about this right away?¡± James was a little angry about that. ¡°I¡¯m kinda angry about that, actually.¡± He admitted, thinking about it. ¡°You were busy, looking for Alanna. You still are, as far as I know. We were keeping an eye on it. And there¡¯s few enough students actually going to the school that we can effectively keep everyone out.¡± Dave bit his lip. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure half of them know what¡¯s up. Have you ever seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to pretend you didn¡¯t just ask me that.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, like that. No one says it, but everyone knows.¡± ¡°So, time dilation? Number of entry points?¡± James pressed for answers. ¡°Changes to the dungeon itself? Also why the fuck are there students at all? There are two very good reasons there shouldn¡¯t be any classes happening at that school.¡± Dave shrugged again, this time with a bitter look. ¡°JP says it¡¯s politics, and I¡¯m not going to argue with him on it. No time changes, no one¡¯s been in either. We¡¯re setting up a team to go in, but we wanted to wait to see if we could get you on board. We¡¯re actually short on manpower with the response team operating, and with¡­ well. You¡¯re one of four people available with sewer experience, and one of two who isn¡¯t out of action.¡± ¡°Me, Sarah, Anesh, and¡­ Simon. Huh. Shit. Wow, don¡¯t go into a dungeon with me, huh?¡± James was feeling that bitter pull again. ¡°It¡¯s worked out okay for me.¡± Dave said. ¡°Hey. It¡¯s not your place to feel guilty. We all know the risks.¡± ¡°Do you?¡± James whispered. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m gonna get out of here before the new girl works up the nerve to talk to you.¡± Dave said, plucking a pair of deviled eggs off the tray and popping one in his mouth with a casual air. ¡°Have fun.¡± He said. ¡°New¡­ what? Get back here!¡± James called after him. ¡°Mr. Lyle?¡± A firm voice came from James¡¯s right, and he pivoted to look at the woman addressing him. She was about his height, with short black hair and a no-nonsense look on her face that looked like it had been practiced through a million frustrating conversations. There was also something in the air around her; or maybe not the air itself, but the concept of the space that surrounded her shoulders. James thought it felt green, for some reason. ¡°Do you have a minute?¡± He did, but didn¡¯t want to admit it. He did anyway. ¡°Sure. How can I help you?¡± He asked. ¡°Also, how did you get in here?¡± ¡°Your accountant let me in. We worked together previously, on the east coast.¡± ¡°JP¡­ oh! Oh.¡± James felt all the enthusiasm leave his bones as he looked at the FBI agent in front of him. ¡°Well. At the risk of sounding rude, what do you want?¡± Maybe it was how direct the question was. Maybe it was some inner struggle James wasn¡¯t privy to. But either way, he got an answer he wasn''t expecting. ¡°I have no idea.¡± She said with a sigh. ¡°As you¡¯ve probably already guessed, I¡¯m Agent DeKay. Tiffany, if you need a first name, but I don¡¯t like it much.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James nodded. ¡°DeKay. Preferred pronouns?¡± ¡°Um¡­ female?¡± ¡°I¡¯m getting in the habit of asking. It simplifies a lot of stuff.¡± James explained. ¡°So. You¡¯re here, you don¡¯t know why, and you brought an infomorph that hates me into my house.¡± He gestured with a looping motion of his hand to the area around her head. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°You¡¯re¡­ how do you even ask this. You¡¯re wizards?¡± The word sounded so stupid, she almost instantly wanted to take it back. But then, to her shock, James gave her a real answer. ¡°Just Momo. The rest of us are classified as delvers, or support staff. If we have magic, it¡¯s granted, not learned.¡± ¡°...Classified by whom?¡± ¡°Ourselves. We¡¯re the leading authority, as far as we know.¡± James sounded smug about that. ¡°I heard what happened to my predecessor.¡± Her voice was hard, almost threatening. James nodded, a sad frown and a shake of his head punctuating his words. ¡°You know, I was actually starting to like Randall. And he was¡­ how to say it. He was blind, but searching. He wasn¡¯t a bad guy. He didn¡¯t deserve this.¡± James looked up at her. ¡°We delivered his remains to the bureau, but we have his remnant here. We didn¡¯t know what you all would want done with it, and didn¡¯t want to risk anything.¡± James met her eyes. ¡°At the risk of sounding condescending, do you know what that is? Did they tell you?¡± ¡°No.¡± DeKay said plainly. ¡°Do you mean part of his corpse? Or his effects?¡± ¡°Effects. Heh.¡± James snorted a sad laugh. ¡°It¡¯s all the Powers he accumulated with us. The skills, enhancements, everything left over. It¡¯s not much, compared to some of the others who¡­ some of the others. But it¡¯s there. And our own code says you have a claim on it, if you want.¡± ¡°What would happen to it?¡± She asked, curious. Her mind was already building a map of how this worked, comparing notes with her briefing and other conversations, sussing out lies and mistakes and dead ends. ¡°Is it his soul?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡± James gave her a thin smile. ¡°Maybe. We haven¡¯t touched our own fallen. They¡¯re safe, in the basement. Just¡­ you know.¡± ¡°Just in case.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± The two professionals appraised each other for a minute. And then DeKay nodded once at James, and he nodded back. ¡°I¡¯m under orders to observe you, and ensure you¡¯re not a threat to humanity.¡± She told him, honest even if she was leaving out a word or two. ¡°Until you decide to be that threat, consider me an auxiliary agent under your organization.¡± ¡°You know, Nate at least *pretended* that I had a choice in hiring him.¡± James muttered. ¡°Whatever,¡± he waved off her questioning look, ¡°welcome to the Order. Talk to¡­ someone¡­ else¡­ for your loadout. Anesh, probably. That guy.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± And just like that, with a curt nod, agent DeKay vanished back into the crowd. James could still see her, obviously, but she had some kind of trick where she just stopped being relevant to him, and his brain just wanted to focus on other stuff. It was kind of impressive, really. Even with the orb upgrade that gave him improved short term memory, keeping track of certain things had not just instantly become easier. He could hold onto addresses, long strings of numbers, even math equations he didn¡¯t understand, sometimes for hours. But tracking faces or complex tasks wasn¡¯t much simpler than it ever was. And whatever DeKay did, shifting her posture, putting off a different attitude, or maybe drawing on the infomorph that was earthed in her, it preyed on that gap in James¡¯ focus. He didn¡¯t mind too much. She was probably just following her training. And he had a weird sense of deja vu welling up again. Like there was something so familiar about this, and all he had to do was reach out and¡­ ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re here!¡± A voice snapped him out of his focus. James looked up from the circle of mashed potatoes he¡¯d been drawing lines in on his plate, to see the face of his senior researcher. Reed, still too tall for the kid he was, curly hair wetted down into something approaching proper for polite company, was wearing a suit jacket with an air like he¡¯d been ordered to either a firing squad or a fancy family dinner. ¡°We¡¯re just waiting on the response team to get back, and we can do the thing.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, like three people have said ¡®the thing¡¯ to me so far, and no one has stuck around long enough to explain it?¡± James looked over the crowd, trying to spot Sarah, the traitor who had just abandoned him with no explanations. She was currently talking to Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight, laughing in that bubbly way of hers. James caught her eye, and she moved to wink at him before pointedly turning back to her conversation. ¡°Some people unhelpfully not explaining it deliberately, I think.¡± ¡°Well, it was supposed to be a surprise.¡± Reed admitted. ¡°But we¡¯re kinda knee deep in this party, so it seems weird to keep hiding it.¡± ¡°*Super*.¡± James dryly bit the word off. ¡°What *is* it?¡± ¡°Our new security system.¡± ¡°That¡¯s both informative and useless.¡± James replied, headache forming behind his eyes. ¡°Please. Just tell me. I promise to not do any cryptic bullshit for a week if you give me a straight answer.¡± Reed nodded, pursing his lips in thought. ¡°That¡¯s a good deal!¡± He commented with consideration. ¡°We¡¯re going to try something with Planner, the infomorph that Research has been hosting. We think, and they think too, that we can shroud the whole building. Make it safe for us to use, in case¡­ in case Status Quo¡­ you know.¡± ¡°They¡¯re dead.¡± James reminded the quiet young man in front of him. ¡°Them and their goons. And if they weren¡¯t, I¡¯d kill them all before they could try again.¡± ¡°Well, on the off chance they aren¡¯t. Or that there¡¯s something else out there. Stealth field.¡± Reed tried to hide the small panic attack he was having, to little success. ¡°Anyway. We needed everyone here to start it. Once Simon and Lights-Overhead are back from their deployment, we¡¯ll make an announcement and fire it off. And it¡¯ll probably work without any problems.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Probably¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Reed nodded enthusiastically, suddenly very interested in finding an escape hatch from the conversation. ¡°Oh look. Nikhail is trying to math-flirt with Anesh. I¡¯m going to go stop my assistant from being sucked into your magical harem have a nice thanksgiving bye!¡± ¡°Hold up, harem?!¡± James demanded, refocusing his concerns. ¡°That¡¯s not¡­!¡± ¡°Polyamory is a harem with democracy!¡± Reed called back as he made his escape. James considered throwing the half eaten dolmas he was currently not enjoying that much at the back of the kid¡¯s head. But the collateral damage to the mess of people would probably be higher than he¡¯d like. He sighed, again, for the millionth time, and shook his head to himself. His plate was mostly empty, so he filed through the door to the dish pit and added it onto the stack already present. He¡¯d take care of the cleanup later; his own contribution to the night¡¯s festivities. For not the first time, he felt that sense that this was familiar. And this time, with a little quiet and no one around, he leaned into it. A faded memory popped into his head, of sitting with his back to a cubicle wall, short hours away from safety, with a constant rotation of survivors and teammates wandering up to his nap spot to ask him questions. Long term and short, about the escape, about the future, about everything. James laughed, in reality, while his mind looked back over what had been. He¡¯d been trying to get away for a bit, but everyone with a question had found him almost instantly. He closed his eyes, and pictured that blocky beige landscape, how their makeshift camp had been all those months ago when he¡¯d pulled the people who would become the foundation of the Order out of hell. James¡¯ eyes snapped open. There was something in his memory. There was something foreign in his head. His hand gripped the stainless steel corner of the counter, knuckles white from the pressure. Then he took a breath, and looked again. There. Around his legs, and arm. It ached to look at, like staring too long at one of those magic eye puzzles. But it was there. Something¡­ scaled. Draconic? And it was *with him* in his memory. ¡°Hey. You okay?¡± Sarah¡¯s voice caught up to him along with the noises of conversation from outside as she cracked the door open. ¡°You¡¯ve been here a while.¡± James looked up at her, an open mouthed smile on his lips as he gasped for breath, tears pooling in his eyes. ¡°Yeah. Yeah!¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m actually good. I just found something.¡± He said, tapping his head. ¡°Ugh. Ow.¡± James flexed his fingers, trying to loosen them up. ¡°What¡¯s up? I¡¯m actually okay, calm down.¡± He told Sarah, who was looking back over her shoulder and trying to signal Anesh. ¡°Oh, Simon and Lights are back. Harvey and Karen wanted to make an announcement, and they asked that you say something too.¡± Sarah said. ¡°If you¡¯re okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m *fine*.¡± James insisted, putting as much real feeling into it as he could. ¡°Also I already weaseled the intel out of Reed, so you don¡¯t need to keep trying to surprise me.¡± ¡°I would never!¡± Sarah lied, hand on her forehead in the most melodramatic pose possible. ¡°Alright, come on.¡± They got out to the main room just in time for Harvey to be halfway. through the briefing he was giving everyone. The whole room had gone quiet, respectfully listening to their begrudgingly appointed head of operational security. James spotted against the back wall, near the door to the security office, Simon standing in black shelled body armor. He assumed the camraconda partner was nearby, but lost in the crowd. Poor Simon. If that was his name anymore. He was a little more than one and a half people now; his last partner¡¯s body having been killed, even as most of his mind was caught and saved. It was a touchy subject, and the new Simon was still getting used to existing at all like this; not much for talking about the experience. ¡°...everyone here. So unless you¡¯re with non-Order members, you¡¯ll always be able to find the place. But if you¡¯re bringing a guest, a client, even an interview? It¡¯s got to be scheduled, or else as far as they know, the building just won¡¯t exist.¡± Harvey¡¯s voice carried pretty well in this room, when everyone shut up their own conversations long enough to let him speak. He had a good rumbling tone to his words; like he¡¯d smoked, but only just long enough to get the aesthetic and not the cancer. ¡°So, do we all have to be thinking Planner?¡± Momo asked from the crowd, not bothering to raise her hand. The girl may be sartorially stuck between punk and goth, but despite her age she¡¯d been quick to ditch most of the trappings of high school life. ¡°No.¡± Reed said, standing next to Harvey and interpreting the older man¡¯s glance as an invitation to field the question. ¡°Just be here now to be flagged as having an open invitation. Most of Research already runs it, so Plan is pretty stable. Not very social though, yet, ironically.¡± ¡°I mean, they¡¯re learning from a bunch of nerds.¡± Momo sent a friendly needle toward the kid who was almost technically her boss. ¡°Can I ask a question?¡± Someone raised his hand from one of the tables where a cluster of people from the support group were sitting. ¡°If it distracts these two, yes.¡± Harvey flatly shook his head. ¡°What¡¯s up Steve?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t wanna look stupid, but I still don¡¯t understand infomorphs. What the hell¡­ is? It?¡± Steve looked sheepish, like he was embarrassed to ask. James hadn¡¯t really interacted with a lot of people from the support group, mostly assuming that if they didn¡¯t want to be part of the Order, they didn¡¯t want him bothering them. But Steve, an exceptionally cautious guy who¡¯d been a floor manager before his job and life got eaten and replaced by a fantasy world, was one of probably several exceptions. He waited for people to tell him what was okay, instead of what everyone else did, which was mostly to assume responsibility for problems and start hacking away at them. It was¡­ normal. That was the thing. It was normal and that stood out here. The thing was, Harvey didn¡¯t have a good answer. Neither did Reed or Momo really. All of them were waiting for the others to answer, and none of them, even the ones with an understanding, had a good explanation. From the back of the room, James spoke up quietly, and everyone¡¯s heads turned to look at him. ¡°Imagine¡­ hm. Let¡¯s say, imagine three apples. They¡¯re in a triangle. They¡¯re red. Fresh. Untouched. Is everyone thinking that?¡± There was a murmur of voices and nods. ¡°Okay. I just created an idea and put it in your heads. And for a minute, it occupies some space in your mind. So far, I¡¯m a marketing department, but not a wizard.¡± A couple people laughed. But that wasn¡¯t what James was after this time. ¡°An infomorph is what happens when that idea, three apples, starts self-perpetuating. It¡¯s always there, in your head. Either conscious or subconscious, but part of you is thinking ¡®three apples¡¯. Now, that¡¯s a bit scary, right? To not be in control of your brain. But like I said; so far, this is just marketing. A good jingle does the same thing. I¡¯ve had Brian David Gilbert¡¯s Old Bay song stuck in my head for six weeks, and that¡¯s not magic either.¡± ¡°Oh fuck you.¡± Anesh muttered as James stuck the song back in his head. James grinned briefly. ¡°An infomorph is what happens when the idea itself is self-perpetuating, adapting, and capable of simultaneous existence. So, when you¡¯re thinking three apples, and I¡¯m thinking three apples, and they¡¯re the exact same idea, shared between us? And that idea can grow and learn from us? That¡¯s an infomorph.¡± He pointed at where Daniel was sitting in the crowd. ¡°Danny there has a friend who started out as a map, and then gradually took on traits of exploration and adventure. And if the two of them wanted to, they could carve out footholds for Pathfinder, with consent from other people, by creating shared ideaspace for Path to move into.¡± James looked around and caught the new FBI agent¡¯s eye. ¡°They¡¯re all a bit different. But they all eat information, in a way. It¡¯s how they survive and grow. Doesn¡¯t have to be destructive, though.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Steve said, simply. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ really helpful. Can I write that down?¡± ¡°Please god yes. I¡¯ve already forgotten half of it.¡± James said. ¡°How do you know all this, anyway?¡± Someone else asked. Ann, James thought her name was. One of the people working in the kitchens, and also racking up delve time. He blinked, and had a moment of nostalgia. A memory of something *scales* and *teeth* and *blue*. James blinked and twitched his head sideways so hard it cracked his neck. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t remember.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯re working on it.¡± Everyone had questions about that. But no one voiced them. Instead, Harvey kept them moving forward, proceeding with the ¡®ritual¡¯ Planner needed to begin masking the building. Momo called it a ritual. Everyone else called it ¡®giving verbal consent¡¯. Momo was the most disappointed person in the room that it didn¡¯t involve actual magic. As the evening wound down, James found himself helping with cleanup while everyone said goodnight. Some people headed home, others to the rooms in one of the basements that were outfitted as bedrooms. Most of the camracondas stayed in the Lair, though Frequency-Of-Sunlight went home with Deb; their relationship an eternal source of gossip among both species that made up the bulk of the Order. James was pretty sure it was where the camracondas learned how to gossip in the first place. Finishing the dishes he¡¯d promised to do, James headed over to the elevator. He needed to find Anesh before he went home, and he had one other thing to do first before that. Finding Anesh wouldn¡¯t be too hard; he knew where his boyfriend had disappeared to midway through the night. He nodded to Nate on the way out, the chef wordlessly heading out back to smoke away his stress. He also passed by JP, who was making increasingly hostile small talk with their new fed. ¡°Are you staying in town?¡± He asked. ¡°Yes.¡± DeKay was saying, not really paying attention and instead looking at her phone. ¡°Well, I¡¯d offer you a room here. But I don¡¯t want to.¡± JP replied. James let out a strangled cough as a reaction as he walked past. He considered telling JP to play nice, but the agent didn¡¯t seem concerned. ¡°You know, I liked you better when you were on my turf.¡± She said. ¡°Barely competent, and quiet.¡± The elevator dinged, and James exfiltrated from that situation before they killed each other, or started making out. Or worse, noticed him. The basement wasn¡¯t as empty as basements usually were. People were hanging around, the hallways held a couple of little lounge areas and also one vein of gold that they didn¡¯t talk about. There were a lot of camracondas down here, too, many of them preferring to make their sleeping nests underground, comfortable with the enclosed spaces. Farther in was the space that had been everything from the Research section to their storage pile for several months. Right now, there wasn¡¯t much here except a few computers monitoring the progress of a few growing programs. And also a little penned-in area that held a number of shellaxies. James stopped to give some pets to a couple of the more active computer shaped life forms. ¡°Hey there Ice Cream Cake.¡± He muttered, running fingernails across the somehow sensitive metal casing of the creature. ¡°Have you been a good bug tester? Yes you have!¡± They¡¯d used this space for a lot. And it hurt that it hadn¡¯t been fully put back together after the Status Quo attack. Scorch marks and the smell of smoke, as well as bullet holes in the wall, along with one much larger hemispherical divot taken out of the ceiling by what James assumed was a blue power. This was where Research had figured out what a hundred different magic items did. This was where people had built the wireless braids for the skulljacks. And now it was mostly empty, and Research worked elsewhere. They¡¯d put it back together eventually, but it was strange for it to feel so empty. Behind it was the vault. And that space had, thankfully, been undamaged. Putting in the code and opening the locks from the human-positioned keypad, James let the door swing open and stepped in. ¡°Priestess.¡± He greeted the camraconda inside. She was one of the few who didn¡¯t engage much with the Order. And that was fine. She had a cultural position that was very, very important to the camraconda population of Earth; she watched over the body of the woman who¡¯d first freed them. The priestess spent most of her time here, though taking shifts for her to sleep or explore was a part of the camraconda¡¯s assumed sacred duty, so she wasn¡¯t trapped forever. Their stilling vision keeping the corpse in perfect preserved condition, no matter how much time passed. In the back of the vault was a containment room that used to contain an invisible cat beast. It was empty now, and James would appreciate it if no one asked questions about that. But here, along the wall, on a set of divided shelves, were a series of orbs. Some large, some small. Some green, some yellow. One thing that wasn¡¯t an orb at all, but that looked like a battered spiral notebook. Some of the shelves had other things on them, hand written notes, mementos, objects of importance. Here was a government badge, here was the remote control to a drone, here was a small plastic figure of a penguin. Under every shelf was written a name. Neil Thile. Graham Drake. Randall Schmidt. Feeling-Of-Rain. Mark Diaz. Eye-For-Detail. Truth-And-Balance. Lane Christenson. Lights-And-Sounds. And then, older names, Virgil Thomassi and Cold-Wind-Friction. And then, to the side, empty shelves with names nonetheless. Alanna Byrne. James Buchanan. People who may not actually be dead. James came here a lot. Every time he found himself in the Lair for the last few months, he ended up down here at some point. To apologize, to pay respects, or just to sit and wish things had been different. He didn¡¯t think it was a form of religion. But he felt like he had to. He had a responsibility to these people, to the fallen. They had died because he had asked them to fight. For themselves, for him, for a better world. They¡¯d stood and fought and died and it wasn¡¯t fair that they were gone. So James came here, and stood before the closest thing they had to a manifested soul, and he apologized. He told them he wished it had gone differently, that he wished he¡¯d done more. That he never wanted them to get hurt. And then, this time, he said something new. He told them that he wouldn¡¯t stop now. That the things he believed in then, he believed in now. That the Order of Endless Rooms, kept alive through their actions, was going to keep going, and that they were going to save the world. And he meant it. He didn¡¯t know how long he took down there, in their graveyard shrine. But it was long enough that Anesh found him instead of the other way around. ¡°Hey.¡± His boyfriend greeted him, startling James a little bit out of his thoughts. Anesh¡¯s own darker skin tone blending into the color of James¡¯ hair as he rubbed at the back of his partner¡¯s neck. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about earlier. I was¡­¡± James waved it off. ¡°I know. You were trying to make it funny. And I¡¯ve been just fucking awful lately. I should be the one apologizing.¡± ¡°Not how it works.¡± Anesh shook his head at him as James turned around. ¡°Can you imagine if I told you that?¡± ¡°Yeah, I know. But that¡¯s just how I be, I guess.¡± ¡°Anyway. Sarah already left, and she was my ride here. I¡¯m the last iteration of myself in the building; you mind if I get a ride back with you?¡± James gave an incredulous chuckle. ¡°We live together, share a bed, and regularly smooch. Is it really required that you ask if I let you *ride in my car to our shared apartment*?¡± ¡°I wanted to be polite!¡± Anesh crossed his arms and pointedly stared up at the ceiling. ¡°Besides, if I¡­mmmph!¡± James cut him off with a kiss, pulling his head back down to stare into Anesh¡¯s eyes afterward. ¡°I love you so much.¡± He said. ¡±And I¡¯m sorry that I¡¯ve been fucking everything up.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not just you.¡± Anesh admitted sadly. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m *failing*, because we aren¡¯t making any progress. I haven¡¯t found Alanna, I haven¡¯t found whatever bizarre digital dungeon Virgil encountered and absolutely failed to document before he died, I haven¡¯t figured out how to help Simon-and-or-James¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing. And everyone¡¯s looking at me for advice, but James, I wasn¡¯t doing this for more than a bloody year before all this started. They think I¡¯m some expert, and I¡¯m blanking on everything. I¡¯m a physicist, not some world-saving monster hunter!¡± If anything in this whole night had made James want to explode with laughter, this was it. ¡°Oh, *really*?¡± Was what he said instead. And into that word, he poured the last year of experiences, of being out of his depth, of being looked to for leadership, of being inexplicably in charge of things, and of being responsible for a whole organization of people. For their growth, their lives, and their deaths, in equal measure. Weeks and months of being looked up to, of being asked questions he didn¡¯t have good answers for. ¡°Yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.¡± Anesh admitted with a mock scowl. ¡°Also you literally work for NASA now. That¡¯s gotta count for something.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know. I haven¡¯t actually met up with myself in a while. Travel restrictions and also just general security, you know?¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯m doing fine!¡± He didn¡¯t sound convinced. In fact, he sounded jealous. James wrapped him in a hug. ¡°Aw, I¡¯m sorry you¡¯re not the copy that gets to work on spaceships.¡± He said in a babying voice. ¡°Once we establish our own extradimensional utopian nation, you can be in charge of the space program, okay?¡± ¡°Myhre ohbes.¡± Anesh¡¯s muffled voice came through where he was squished against James. ¡°What?¡± Anesh sucked in a breath of air as James released him. ¡°Ahem. I said, they¡¯re probes. Not ships.¡± ¡°Bah. We¡¯ll get you up to ships. Now come on. Let¡¯s get home, I¡¯m tired, and I wanna go to bed.¡± James said. ¡°Priestess, you gonna be okay down here?¡± He asked the camraconda as they made their way to the door. ¡°I am content.¡± The snake replied. ¡°Others will be here soon, for vigil. Giving you space.¡± The small digital speakers wired into the camraconda¡¯s skulljack port projecting a voice she otherwise wouldn''t have. Most of the serpent people were getting quite good at creating their own vocal sounds. James gave her a sad smile. ¡°Alright. Well, let us know if you need anything. We should¡­ we should try to get some more space down here. Let you all have your own place for things. It feels weird that you¡¯re just in here with the graves and priceless artifacts.¡± ¡°It is a safe place. We do not mind.¡± The priestess replied. ¡°Still.¡± James said, trying to express discomfort and gratitude all at once. ¡°Well, goodnight. Happy Thanksgiving.¡± ¡°Yes. Thanks.¡± The camraconda called back. The two boys made their way through the halls of the basement, past Research, past the improvised gold mine, back up the elevator. Out the front security door, of a building that, if everything worked the way it should, most people wouldn¡¯t be able to find anymore. The night air was frigid; winter having kicked into high gear at some point, and the wind burrowed its way through every crack in the coat James wore as armor against the cold. They drove home in near quiet, interrupted only by low radio music, and then James getting super excited when the local station did their yearly playing of Alice¡¯s Restaurant. ¡°You can get, any*thing* you waaaant¡­¡± He hummed along with the chorus. ¡°You are really into this.¡± Anesh said, watching him from the passenger seat with a happy grin on his face. ¡°What even is this¡­ song? Performance?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really know. I mean, it¡¯s some kind of anti-war message, obviously. I think a comedian wrote this in, like, the late seventies. My parents used to have a tradition of listening to it every year. And yeah, it hurts to remember them. But this whole thing is just kinda¡­ comfortable. Even with everyone¡­ missing.¡± James blinked back tears that snuck up on him. ¡°I miss Alanna too.¡± Anesh said quietly. ¡°She¡¯s not dead.¡± ¡°She can¡¯t be.¡± James snorted. ¡°It took an alarming amount of violence to *render her unconscious*. I have a hard time believing she¡¯s dead. But¡­ where is she?¡± ¡°I dunno. Lost, somewhere? I wish the iteration of me that warped her out told you what he wrote down before he died.¡± ¡°Maybe she¡¯s started a new life rescuing elephants from poachers.¡± James suggested. Anesh blinked. ¡°That¡¯s out of left field. Also pretty optimistic.¡± ¡°Look, our other options are either ¡®some kind of magic bullshit¡¯...¡± James shot Anesh a look, and his boyfriend nodded in agreement. ¡°...Or she¡¯s gotten fed up with society and is systematically planning to assassinate a bunch of political and financial roadblocks.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s assume something magic.¡± Anesh suggested. ¡°If she was gonna murder blokes, she¡¯d tell us first. Maybe she¡¯s caught in a dungeon.¡± ¡°Maybe it¡¯s both. Maybe it¡¯s a magical pyramid scheme or something.¡± ¡°Like¡­¡± Anesh¡¯s brain fumbled the line of conversation. ¡°Like a curse that makes you build a pyramid? I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m getting tired.¡± James laughed. ¡°Let¡¯s go with that. That¡¯s more fun than what I was thinking of. Also, we¡¯re home. Need help up the stairs?¡± ¡°Nah, I wasn¡¯t drinking.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Jus¡¯ sleepy.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± They made their way to the door, the night a little less hostile but still just as cold as they rushed into their apartment. Aberdeen, the massive floofy white mess of fur that was their dog, greeted them both with a huff from the couch. James noted that Sarah¡¯s shoes were already by the door, and he and Anesh shared an eye-roll at the ground shakingly loud snoring coming from her room. Half an hour later, showered, undressed, and curled up in bed together, James was just feeling the pull of sleep when Anesh spoke one last time. ¡°I just want to do something that matters.¡± The quiet voice from the boy spooned against his back made James force himself awake for just a minute. ¡°You already do.¡± He whispered back. ¡°But if you really, really want to feel like you¡¯re fighting the good fight¡­¡± James trailed off. There was a rustle of blankets as Anesh propped himself up on an elbow, the indent in the mattress rolling James out of his comfortable position. ¡°What?¡± He asked, a little too eager. ¡°Come help me kill rats in the basement tomorrow.¡± James muttered. ¡°We¡¯ll work up to all the world¡¯s other problems from there. Now go to sleep.¡± Chapter 131 ¡°The strong do what they will. The weak suffer what they must.¡± - Thucydides - Once upon a time, James had dreaded high school. If this came as a shock to anyone he knew, he¡¯d been exceptionally surprised. Some of his current friends had even been with him through the experience, and they almost universally agreed it hadn¡¯t been great. ¡®Almost¡¯, because JP was an eternal outliner in any poll of their group, and he¡¯d actually had quite a lot of fun in high school. Though James was of the opinion that if JP hadn¡¯t spent his youth tricking kids into doing his homework and convincing teachers to let him bail on class, then his high school career would have been a lot different in nostalgia quality. The point was, walking through the doors of a high school wasn¡¯t an action James associated with good vibes. But it was, he would readily admit, kind of satisfying to do it as an adult, and also as someone with a level of prowess to shape the world around him. There was a security guard standing by the doors, watching the flow of students who were currently mid-lunch. It was the same old guy who they¡¯d identified themselves - falsely - as the FBI to back when they were first investigating here. He was watching James and his companions as they came in with a wary eye, probably not recognizing them right away through the masks. ¡°Rufus.¡± James greeted him, the old man¡¯s name easy enough for him to remember. ¡°How¡¯s the place been?¡± The lines around the man¡¯s eyes lit up in recognition when James greeted him. ¡°Oh! Agents!¡± He rumbled out with a casual familiarity that was completely unearned. ¡°It¡¯s been quiet. Mostly just making sure the kids keep their masks on. Is there¡­¡± He cleared his throat, looking around and needlessly lowering his voice against the dull roar of hundreds of students talking, eating, and yelling. ¡°Is there something going on again?¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be anything serious.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯re just here to check up on things.¡± He half-lied. They were, absolutely, here to check up on things. It¡¯s just, that ¡®thing¡¯ they were here to check on was whether or not the hostile living place under the building was still eating high school students. Which was, you know, a mite bit more serious than basically anything that the FBI normally got up to. The weirdest part of this whole thing, as far as James figured, was that he wasn¡¯t entirely lying about being an FBI agent anymore. *Mostly* lying, but not entirely. And the second weirdest thing was that he thought that was weirder than the dungeon itself. The last year and change of his life had been pretty malicious about recalibrating his gauge of what was and wasn¡¯t strange. Extradimensional arena that offered a marketing class as a reward for survival? Normal. Working for the government? Strange. ¡°He¡¯s booked.¡± Sarah muttered in James¡¯ ear as they politely nodded to Rufus and headed down toward the school¡¯s lower level. ¡°What?¡± James took a second to process that. Booked. Like the books the dungeon they were headed to offered as rewards. Usually rewards for murder. That was, in a lot of ways, very concerning. ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°A couple perception orbs helping. How he was standing, and also just the change in how he greeted you.¡± Sarah spoke in a low tone; there were still students around lining the halls down here in small clusters as they ate lunch and took a reprieve from their own daily toils. ¡°He¡¯s too confident. He¡¯s thinking that he¡¯s pulling a fast one on you, which means either our ¡®cover¡¯ is blown, or he¡¯s got some kind of power. Book makes the most sense.¡± James closed his eyes and considered the man they¡¯d just passed. ¡°Ah, shit, you¡¯re right. I¡¯ve seen that look he had before.¡± He muttered. ¡°That¡¯s the expression Frank always had.¡± ¡°How¡¯s the old guy doing these days, anyway?¡± Daniel asked, venom in his voice. ¡°Still a bitter asshole?¡± ¡°I think that¡¯s the most angry I¡¯ve ever heard you!¡± Sarah noted. ¡°Also he¡¯s still in prison. Our casual subversion of the justice system is working out!¡± ¡°You make that sound like a really bad thing¡­¡± James trailed off, then cleared his throat. ¡°Okay, yeah.¡± He resignedly admitted. The three of them rounded the last corner, and started descending a ramp that wasn¡¯t normally there. And as they did so, their ears picked up on the sudden hush that ran through the hall. The whispers of students that were watching, trying their best to not let on. James could *feel* the prickling on his arms as he passed between the real school and the otherworld below it. At first pass, Sarah and Daniel were not his first choice for a scout team. Even with the ethereal Pathfinder tagging along, tethered to Daniel¡¯s mind, that still left a solid seventy five percent of their party in the category of ¡®humans who had been shot within the last couple months¡¯. And yes, Daniel hadn¡¯t been shot anywhere critical, and Sarah had the ability to recover absurdly quickly thanks to this own dungeon¡¯s magic. But that still didn¡¯t leave James feeling comfortable with it. Still, they were who was available. And despite his promise to his boyfriend to let him fight rats in the basement, Anesh had rapidly gotten distracted with helping Research renovate their basement space into something usable again. So three humans who still had itching scars walked down the stone slope, carrying duffel bags full of tools that might not work, feeling simultaneously unprepared and oddly confident. ¡°Hey Lua.¡± James greeted the middle aged woman who was sitting at the threshold. She had a heavy black cardigan on, her hair pulled back in its usual bun, sitting on a confiscated chair from the school¡¯s library, reading a book on the history of warfare. Her chair was at the bottom of the ramp, pushed back against the wall right next to a blue metal door with a rusted push bar on it. ¡°James.¡± The school counselor replied with a nod, one-handedly closing her book around a paper strip with a snap as she looked up. ¡°Welcome back.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been back for a while¡­ oh, you meant to here specifically.¡± James flushed a bit and looked away. ¡°Sorry. What¡¯re you doing down here?¡± ¡°Making sure no one goes in.¡± Lua said, matter of factly. ¡°It is still the same place, isn¡¯t it?¡± She asked. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re here to find out!¡± Sarah cut in with her usual cheerful flair. ¡°Do you wanna come with us?¡± Lua smiled a soft smile, visible in her eyes even with her mouth obscured by a pink and purple flower patterned mask, and gave a single heavy exhalation. ¡°No, no. I¡¯m no soldier.¡± She told them in a voice that was equal parts kind and sad. ¡°No matter what the students think of me. I¡¯m just here to watch the door.¡± What the students thought of her, as far as James could gather, was that she was some kind of guardian spirit that could snap necks by pointing at people. And while that was only about thirty percent accurate, no one really had the inclination, or ability, to get an entire high school worth of kids to change their minds. The fact that she¡¯d stuck around after the building had been turned into a warzone, to keep up her job as guidance counselor, just kind of added to her local mythology. James was *almost* jealous of her growing status as folk hero. But more than that, he was happily amused that she was recognized for the monumental effort she¡¯d put in saving lives during the fight here. And also that the Order had someone keeping an eye on things here. ¡°So, has anyone peeked inside?¡± He asked, eying the overtly suspicious door. ¡°No, no. No one wants to risk that it¡¯s a teleporter.¡± Lua explained. ¡°Imagine touching the door, and then you¡¯re inside. It seems like the kind of trick the sewer would pull.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± James said. He readjusted his grip on the handle of the duffle bag in his hand. ¡°Alright. You two ready?¡± ¡°As we can be.¡± Daniel grumbled. ¡°Are you sure we shouldn¡¯t be doing this with a small army? At least we could get one of the snakes in here.¡± ¡°Probably a good idea. But it¡¯s fine.¡± James replied. ¡°We¡¯ve got a telepad. If we need to, we¡¯ll just bail when it gets unsafe.¡± He rolled his head from side to side, eliciting a popping crack from his neck. ¡°Let¡¯s see what¡¯s in there.¡± Sarah laid a hand on his shoulder, and farther back Daniel did the same to her. James reached forward, and touched the door, tensing up in preparation for a possible teleport into an angry sewer dimension. Nothing. He let out a soft sigh, and pushed at the bar, having to use quite a bit of force to get the rusted metal to move into place. And then, with a grinding screech, it swung open on ancient hinges, and the three of them stepped forward into the dungeon¡¯s territory. _____ The Order of Endless Rooms was, as far as they knew, the foremost experts in dungeon physiology. Barring a few outliers, like the Old Gun, they could safely say they knew far more than Status Quo did. They certainly knew more than more mundane government agencies like the FBI, who for some reason had an organization problem acknowledging that the supernatural existed. Between operational experience, a series of inquiring totems that Momo was constantly developing, and the existence of a dungeon that was friendly to their organization, they had multiple sources of data that were more or less capable of letting them come up with working theories. They¡¯d come a long way from James trying to figure out if staplers could be friends. And yet, they still didn¡¯t really *know* a whole lot of stuff. They knew that a dungeon was a living place. There was an intelligence that built, maintained, and populated these strange spaces. It absolutely was not a human intelligence; dungeons didn¡¯t appear to get tired or bored, ever, as confirmed by Momo¡¯s totems. What they *didn¡¯t* know was a lot of the other stuff about the central intelligences themselves. Did they have a brain of some kind, a central physical object that housed their mind? Or were they distributed through the entire structure that they built? What did they want? What methods did they have to communicate, and did they have their own society? They knew that there was at least one other dungeon out there that they hadn¡¯t seen, because it had *called them* through the phones of Officium Mundi. It had spoken in riddles, but it had called the office its brother. Did dungeons have families? One thing they knew, through their connection to Clutter Ascent, the dungeon in the attic of a house that the Order now had listed in its growing spreadsheet of assets, was that dungeons needed to challenge people. Not hurt them, not kill them. Though apparently that was still part of it. But no matter how friendly or kind a dungeon grew to be, it had to offer a challenge. And these challenges almost always came with rewards, in some way. That part also seemed to be compulsory, either an instinctive part of how dungeons thought, or a ¡®biological¡¯ impulse, like how humans couldn¡¯t really choose to turn off their lungs. Momo called this process the ¡®harvest of conceptual weight¡¯. Anesh called this process ¡®poorly defined and in need of categorization¡¯. They also knew that the life that dungeons created wasn¡¯t just an extension of the dungeon itself. Most of their working data came from the Office, where they had multiple forms of life to look at, but there were other examples too. Dungeons could create life that was intelligent, and they could find ways to impose control on that intelligence, but it didn¡¯t seem like they could perfect it. Things in the office made with yellow orbs seemed to act like wildlife. Untamed, often dangerous, but not evil. Just usually hungry. Camracondas, and a few other forms, were made with green orbs; they were referred to as Puppets by the smarter forms of yellow life, and it seemed like the dungeon had a strong finger on the scales of how they behaved. Especially when it came to fighting intruders. But removed from the control of the dungeon, they were people, with as much free will as anyone else. Infomorphs were another form of life that they¡¯d run across in the Office. Life made of an idea that thought itself, that grew and shared itself with others. They were impressive, and scary in some ways. And they appeared to just be the surface of non-material life, since the Order had also encountered something called Authorities when they¡¯d fought Status Quo. If Infomorphs were living ideas, then Authorities seemed to be living commands. Not that they had a living one left to examine. They knew a few other things, too. They knew that dungeons could send their creations out into the real world. They knew some of them did this to erase memories, or kill perceived threats. They weren¡¯t passive places, they were active operatives. They knew that dungeons *had* to be challenged, in some way. It was how they fed, essentially. And while the ones they knew of didn¡¯t need it very often, they still did need it. And so, they could extrapolate, that if a dungeon was left untouched for too long, it would eventually be faced with a choice. It could quietly starve, leaving a husk of itself only barely tethered to the physical world. Or, it could take one last risk, and send out its agents to bring it what it needed. _____ Which was why, even though they were all still recovering, James had made the call that it was time to revisit the Akashic Sewer. Because no one wanted to risk another outburst. Even though the last one had been outside influence, it had still killed a lot of people. And a repeat of that was unacceptable. So, since they didn¡¯t know how to kill a dungeon outright, if that was even an option, the delve team pushed through the door to fight monsters, collect magic, and get out alive. Turning the pressure valve just enough that it wouldn¡¯t be a problem for a while. The room the door opened into was a circular chamber, lit by sickly glowing yellow bulbs on the ceiling, and mostly made of stained concrete. The instant all three of them were in, the door slammed shut behind them, the line of its edge merging seamlessly with the wall and leaving just another part of the grey stone wall where there had once been a portal to the outside world. There was graffiti on the walls, much of it obscured by the very overt infomorphs that lived here and tried to eat names. There was a rusted drain in the middle of the room, with a foul and rotten smell pouring out of it. And aside from that, not much else. No creatures waiting in ambush, no sludge traps, *nothing crawling on the ceiling*, which James made damn sure of. Just an empty room. Three holes in the wall led to pitch black tunnels, the sticky light of the room not moving beyond the threshold. A cluster of bright red shelled roachlike things scattered as they walked in. The lack of a nauseating transition from Earth to this place was appreciated. ¡°Gear check.¡± James called as the three of them spread out a bit and dropped their bags on the floor. He could already feel that his own had been lightened, so the barrier was still in place. Here was something else they sort-of-knew about dungeons; they all had some kind of defensive shell. The attic had a fear field, the office had some kind of time compression, and the school¡¯s sewer? Well, it had a restriction, of sorts. From what they could tell, it was pretty dang close to a list of things that weren¡¯t allowed in school itself. This was one of those things that didn¡¯t fully make sense, because if you tried to come in holding a knife, the thing just hit the floor outside the entrance and you ended up unarmed. But once you were *in* the sewer, there were *ample* opportunities to relieve the local wildlife of a blade, and you could walk around stabbing things with that one as much as you wanted. But whatever the hypocrisy of the Akashic Sewer, the rules mostly lined up like this: no weapons, no electronics, no toys, no outside food. Notably, laptops were exempt, as long as they didn¡¯t have any games on them, with the exception of Minesweeper. Other exemptions included water bottles, regardless of if they were full of water or not, and skulljack braids. Presumably those last ones counted as medical devices in some way, but no one wanted to make a judgement call on that and risk being wrong when someone with a pacemaker tried to wander in and spontaneously died. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Gun¡¯s gone.¡± Daniel reported, sorting through his bag. ¡°Sword¡¯s gone. Armor¡¯s still here, though. So¡¯s the coffee. And this.¡± He held up a pen they¡¯d liberated from Officium Mundi that, while technically still a pen, used a kind of highly concentrated acid instead of ink. ¡°Same stuff missing here.¡± Sarah chimed in, smothering a choking cough. ¡°Ugh, I hate this smell. It¡¯s like it¡¯s eating through the mask filter.¡± All of them had chosen to wear thicker filter masks today, but as Sarah had said, it wasn¡¯t doing much against the smell aside from making a fashion statement. ¡°Weirdly, the ball bearings are gone, but the stakes are still here.¡± Her bag had contained a jar of the small metal orbs, perfectly suited to be ammunition for her organic ability to shape magnetic fields. It had also contained a trio of sharpened wooden spikes, which were modified to be magnetically charged themselves. ¡°Maybe they were too close to ammo?¡± James suggested, pulling the different pieces of armor padding out of his bag and starting to strap them to his arms and legs. ¡°Oh, telepad¡¯s still here. Good.¡± He noted as he found it at the bottom of the bag. ¡°My rope is gone, though!¡± James sulked, even as he pulled out a trio of wooden rods, and started screwing them together to form a staff. There was a broom head in the bag, too, just to drive home the point to the dungeon that it was a tool and not a weapon, but he left that in there. ¡°Could be. Hey, help me with this.¡± Sarah turned toward him, presenting the straps on the back of her body armor for James to pull into place and hook together as she pointedly ignored his comment about the rope. ¡°Daniel, you need help?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got it.¡± The younger man said simply, a dusty golden glow dispersing off his back as Pathfinder helped him don his own suit. ¡°Alright. Ready?¡± James asked again. ¡°Ready.¡± ¡°Set.¡± The other two replied. Sarah and James clipped pen lights to their shoulders, the thin beams of white light giving a small amount of illumination to their surroundings. Meanwhile, around Daniel, Pathfinder spread her wings a couple inches, throwing off an orange glow that lit the area around him. They picked a tunnel at random, and started walking. Their boots made echoing thuds as the three of them stepped into the tunnel. The walls still had rough concrete to them, but large chunks of both the wall and floors were replaced by clusters of pipes. Most of them were metal, copper or rusted iron, though there were a few more modern looking plastic tubes as well. The lights they had on them seemed to be almost strangled by the dark, only getting them a few feet of vision before they died out. But it was enough to safely walk, and they made far better time than James¡¯ crew had the first time they¡¯d been here. Every now and then, the group paused to listen to the rattling of something crawling through the pipes overhead, or the rush of some kind of liquid around them. More than a few times, a bug the size of a human fist would scuttle out from a crack and dart toward their ankles. None of them made it that far; not a single one of the people here had any interest in letting a magically spawned cockroach climb up their legs, and a heavy stomp was more than enough to deal with the things. Every time they killed one, a small sputter of red sparks would light up the corpse for a half second before being drawn into whoever had killed it. James had checked when he came in, and after a familiar brief flash of pain, had gotten a number to appear around the back of his hand; the sparks counted kills, and now they knew that they didn¡¯t reset, no matter how long you were out of the dungeon. So if nothing else, they¡¯d have enough to leave through a gate if they needed to. The last time James had fought this place, he¡¯d killed enough creatures to have quite a stockpile. After a half hour of walking in a mostly straight line, they came across an intersection in the tunnel. A simple T, with the wall in front of them having a rusted door set into it. It was also the first place they¡¯d seen with its own light in the whole time they¡¯d been walking; a puddle of some kind of aggressively glowing blue liquid forming a pool underneath a leaking pipe that it kept dripping from. ¡°Alright, left or right? And also don¡¯t touch that.¡± James realized the words were absolutely pointless as soon as he¡¯d said them. None of the people were amateurs or idiots; these were experienced delvers, one of whom had technically been doing it longer than he had. ¡°I say door.¡± Sarah said. ¡°That¡¯s where the green points come from, right?¡± As far as James knew, yes. There was one way to earn green sparks, and that was by answering the cryptic and hostile questions that the dungeon had carved into the walls in some of the side rooms. And while the red sparks were used to open doors, the green ones were used to open the closest thing to treasure chests that any dungeon he¡¯d seen so far had. ¡°You good with that?¡± James asked Daniel, cocking his head to look back at the one bringing up their rearguard. ¡°Yeah. Nothing¡¯s been following us, and Path says that this place isn¡¯t changing the walls. So I don¡¯t mind if we take a minute. Besides, I kinda want to see what sort of lesson I¡¯d get from this place, and that means we¡¯ve gotta be a little greedy, right?¡± Daniel answered with a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯s hard for us to just run if we need to. This place isn¡¯t actually hard to navigate once you know the tricks.¡± The trick, mostly, was to have a source of light, and not let it panic you. Eventually, you¡¯d find yourself at an exit arena. And then all you had to do was kill your way out. Not that such a thing was easy, but a strike team of experienced delvers had a hell of a lot more chance than a group of scared students. ¡°Alright. Daniel, push it open from that side. Sarah, take the left. If anything moves, stab it. Ready?¡± James felt like half the words he¡¯d said so far down here were just to ask if everyone else was ready to act. He almost laughed as they got into position, but then remembered that this place was, more than any other dungeon they¡¯d seen, *trying to kill people*. If anywhere called for playing it safe, it was this dark and moldy pit. James stood in the middle of the intersection, one foot on the jagged step that led to the door, while Daniel braced himself against the wall, and fed enough red sparks into the handle to convince it to crack open. He had his makeshift staff held out in front of him, prepared to smack anything that charged out of the doorway once it was open. He was in absolutely no way prepared for a trio of elongated human arms to burst out of the opened door. They were easily several meters long each, with gooey flesh that practically dripped off of them, shimmering translucently in the different lights that the delvers had brought. Multiple elbow joints on each one of them, that seemed to not be limited to a single direction, as the things jerked and thrashed across the floor, leaving behind a trail of their own melting skin. In an ideal world, James would have reacted with the reflexes of an action movie protagonist. But even having intentionally prepared for a fight, the only thing he managed before one of the hands wrapped around his own wrist and started applying force was to scream out a panicked yelp. The second hand clamped onto his shoulder, and James jerked backward, peeling away a wet patch of skin from the thing as he tore himself away from it. He brought the heavy wooden staff he had down on the one that was trying to readjust its grip, and heard the sickening pop of bones cracking. But his angle was all wrong for this sort of sudden proximity, and he found himself pinwheeling an arm as he fell backward onto his ass, the plastic shell of his body armor fortunately eating up the impact onto the ragged concrete. Through the rushing noise in his ears, James heard Daniel and Sarah yelling something indistinct. His heart started hammering in panicked fear as hands with a grip far stronger than should have been possible started clawing their way up his armor, closing in on his neck and unprotected face. Then, one of them jerked sideways as Daniel brought the heel of his boot down on a joint so hard that it popped apart, splattering a yellow pus that smelled like year old eggs onto the floor and up James¡¯ leg. The disconnected hand instantly went slack, and James brought his other hands up to grab the last one that was trying to get to his eyes. It had too many fingers, he realized the information as his hands latched onto it. If that was the *only* thing going on, it would have been horrifying on its own. But as it stood, he had bigger things to worry about. So he grabbed at one of the thumbs and a couple of the fingers that were seeking his eyes, both his hands finding as solid a grip as he could through the gloves and the slippery flesh of the attacker, and James yanked his arms as hard as he could in opposite directions. The arm tore in half like wet cardboard; a slurping sound accompanying the fountain of yellow pus down the front of his armor. Then the thing started *crying*, the noise almost exactly like that of a human baby as it screamed and wailed, whipping back and forth as it slithered away from James body. Then there was a magnetic snapping noise in the air, the crunch of wood on bone, and everything went silent. James'' own wild yelling trailed off into the quiet as he realized the arms weren¡¯t moving anymore. Rolling to his stomach and pushing himself off the jagged floor with his gloved hands, he brought himself back to his feet and looked around. Daniel was dry heaving onto the side of the hallway, the smell having gotten so far up his nose it felt like he was drowning in it. The arm things lay limp across the concrete and pipes. And Sarah was standing in front of the door, arms raised, panting in exertion. James stepped up beside her, keeping an eye out around them and trying not to gag himself. In the beam of his flashlight, he could see through the doorway that the wooden spikes she¡¯d fired had found purchase in some kind of hanging bulb of flesh and slime. The arms had been growing out of it, and there were more attached to the thing that simply weren¡¯t long enough to reach past the door. Now, it lay dripping that same pus, as well as a soft fountain of red sparks that flooded into Sarah¡¯s still-raised hand. ¡°Okay.¡± James eventually said, having to try the word a few times before he could speak without coughing in disgust. ¡°Alright. So. That¡¯s just the fucking worst thing down here so far.¡± He settled on. ¡°Congratulations. There is no prize.¡± ¡°My prize is that I¡¯m going to stay out here while you two check the room.¡± Sarah informed him matter of factly. ¡°Because *fuck everything about that*.¡± She pointed an accusatory finger through the doorway. Neither of the guys argued with her. The room itself was like the waiting room for a principal''s office. Only without any windows, and the chairs were all turned to piles of sharp kindling, and also the carpet had rotten away to a black sludge. It just had that feeling, though. The walls had words scraped into them, and in the light from the single flickering bulb overhead, James and Daniel read through them. There were a couple of math questions; word problems about how many people died in a burning building. One thing that seemed to be asking how many children perished in the book The Lord of the Flies. And a much larger diagram that seemed to show a person having their organs ritually torn out. Daniel answered the math problems easily enough. James took a minute to run through the plot of the book he¡¯d liked the least in high school before giving an answer to that as well. Then the two of them stood looking at the last diagram together. ¡°Is it¡­ does it want us to identify the different organs?¡± James asked. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s art. Are we supposed to know that it¡¯s cubism?¡± Daniel wondered. They waited, hopeful, but no green sparks came to life at his words. ¡°Alright, organs it is.¡± He conceded. ¡°Well, that¡¯s the heart, obviously. Lungs. Li¡­ no, kidney.¡± James pointed and labeled the pieces of the pictured person. ¡°What else?¡± ¡°Eyes are organs.¡± Daniel offered. James shrugged and tried it. ¡°Okay. Heart, lungs, kidney, eye?¡± And that was enough for the biology portion of the quiz; a dozen radioactive green sparks burning to life and flowing into James¡¯ hand as he named the pieces of a dismembered image. ¡°Great.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s get the hell out of here.¡± No one had any arguments to that. But even though they all now desperately wanted to take a two hour long scalding hot shower, and use up more soap in one go than the state of Ohio used in a year, they still took their time to move safely through the corridor. They had the telepad; they could leave at any time. But if they took their time, played it safe, and found an exit room, they could trade the answers they¡¯d had to the simple - if grim - questions. And the books they were rewarded would represent a large spike in consistent strength and survivability for the Order. So they kept at it. Picking off bugs, and at one point one of the weird hairless rat things that lunged down from the ceiling. Avoiding the dripping fluids and drifting spores. None of them talked much, because even though it would have been a distraction from the smell, no one wanted to spend the extra breath in this place. They tackled a couple more rooms, neither of them with the arm bulbs. They ran down the tunnels at a reckless speed when one of those balls of skulls and screams made itself known behind them. They waited patiently as Daniel carved his way through a patch of wall that didn¡¯t fit the rest of the place, hoping to find some kind of magic item buried there. They helped Daniel make sure he¡¯d gotten all of the swarming bugs off himself after it turned out that patch was a nest and not a hidden treasure. And eventually, they came to a point where their tunnel stopped being quite so dark. An orange light that looked almost welcoming, at the mouth of the tunnel where it opened into some kind of wider room. ¡°Ready check.¡± James said, for what felt like the hundredth time. As he did so, he unzipped his bag and pulled out the bottle of enchanted coffee that each of them had brought along. ¡°Grossed out, but ready.¡± Sarah said, downing her own brew. ¡°Objectively more grossed out.¡± Daniel added. ¡°But I¡¯m good. This is where they challenge us, right?¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± James said. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, it¡¯s empty, and we have the red to buy our way out. If not, we¡¯re going to have to fight. If we¡¯re half and half, then one of them is going to threaten us, but not stop us.¡± ¡°Them¡± in this case were the ratroaches. Bipedal, with a third arm placed somewhere depending on what dice they¡¯d rolled at character creation. They were covered in a patchwork of mangy fur and rough beetle shell chitin, and so far, every one of them the Order had come across had been fanatically devoted to the act of killing for the dungeon they saw as some kind of god. And as they stepped forward into the arena, James hissed out an angry breath as he saw dozens of the things lining the walls. This last chamber had a floor of asphalt gravel. It was the size and dimensions of a basketball court, but it didn¡¯t stop at the edges. Instead, a rusted chain link fence rose up around the outside, and beyond it, dozens of silently observant ratroaches watched the trio walk forward. Well, ¡®silent¡¯ in that they didn¡¯t speak or hiss or whatever other noises their species often produced. They did rattle the various jagged blades and rough clubs they had against the fence, though. At the end of the chamber, a warped iron grate covered a small hallway that led to a single door. The door was blue, with the paint only a little chipped. Just a normal looking metal security door, that happened to look exactly like the one they¡¯d entered by. It even had a fluorescent light overhead that bathed it in white light that looked positively divine compared to everything else in this hellish pit. A couple of fairly mundane looking lockers sat nearby, half melted into the concrete, but otherwise intact. James knew those would only open with the requisite number of green sparks to feed them, just as the metal grate wouldn¡¯t be moved without enough reds. A single ratroach stood in the center of the court. Cream colored fur with speckles of brown mushrooms growing out if it. Its extra arm was extended out of the elbow on its right side, giving it something akin to the look of a pincer. Each of its hands on that side held a knife in a low position, idly flipping the blades over in its three-fingered hands. As James, Sarah, and Daniel spread out on the court ahead of it, coffee burning in their veins alongside the adrenaline of a coming fight, it raised a fist over its head, and the rattling and thumping from around them ceased. ¡°Yooooou.¡± The ratroach drooled out the words in a voice that was worryingly recognizable as feminine. ¡°Brrhing usss a prraaghry tooo thhe makerrrrr!¡± Its - no, *her* - voice rose as she spoke, turning side to side to address not just the delvers, but the crowd as well. A chittering series of cheers answered her as she screamed her words into the still air of the arena. ¡°I promise you we do not.¡± James said, voice firm and projected loudly through his face mask. He shook his head at the ratroach as he stepped forward in the middle of the trio¡¯s wedge. ¡°Get out of the way.¡± He ordered the creature. ¡°Nooooooo, nooo.¡± The pale ratroach hissed a laugh at him, the noise bubbling through its muzzle. ¡°One lasssst praaaghyr you haaahve for ussss!¡± ¡°Per¡­ prayer¡­¡± Sarah tilted her head as she puzzled out the word. ¡°James. James! It¡¯s saying ¡®prayer¡¯!¡± ¡°Not interested. I¡¯m ranking your religion shortly below Jehova¡¯s Witnesses in terms of how much I don¡¯t want you coming to my house.¡± James bit out the words. ¡°Now get out of our way. We have no interest in sacrificing each other to open the door, but if we need more blood we can always come back for yours.¡± The ratroach chuckled, spraying acidic spittle onto the floor as it doubled over, clutching its chest in a strange inhuman parody of a laugh. ¡°Noooooo!¡± It called, and the delvers finched and closed ranks as the ratroaches around them echoed the laughter. ¡°Iiiiii am yourrrr exhaulltation!¡± It bellowed the words, mangled as they were through its twisted throat. And then, without any further warning, lowered its arms to a boxer¡¯s stance, and *flung* itself across the floor of the arena toward James. It was fast. *Fast*! Faster than he¡¯d expected from every one of these things the Order had put down in the past. But being tempered in constant combat and dungeon exploration had given James a healthy paranoia, and a habit of making sure that the coffee that enhanced his reflexes to inhuman levels was always taken *before* the fights started. One of the ratroach¡¯s bone knives flashed down from overhead, the creature already having closed the gap. James caught it on the bracer of his armor, eyes going wide as the blade sunk an inch into it and rasped against his skin underneath. But it failed to draw blood, and when the thing brought its opposite fist up to try to uppercut him, James matched the blow with his own closed fist. Ratroaches were, for all that they were willing to die in bloody spiteful droves, not built as well as a human body was. And when James¡¯ fist clashed against his enemy¡¯s wrist, one of them was using a compact missile of flesh and bone, and the other one was cursed with a poorly assembled limb that shattered under the attack. The ratroach swept its other knife in a crescent arc toward James¡¯ throat, but he leaned back just enough to let it sweep past him without touching. Then he lurched forward again, dropping a stomping kick onto the monster¡¯s ankle while he brought his forearm up again to absorb another knife strike. The ratroach hissed at him, droplets of its acidic saliva splattering onto his face and making James glad he¡¯d kept the mask on. Pulling on the knowledge of multiple martial arts orbs, he slipped forward into its guard, and shouldered it back under the jaw. A rapid series of punches before the ratroach could react caved in parts of its stomach and rib cage, and then James jetted backward, multiple different magical sources making him faster than a human could ever be. ¡°Yessss!¡± The ratroach wailed, even as it vomited up its own blood onto the floor. The voice sounding less like a creature in pain and more like the thing was drowning in pleasure. Then it lunged forward again, arms coming together to try to wrap James in a vile embrace. Daniel slugged it in the side of the head, dazing it and knocking it off course. Then, having circled around it from behind, Sarah landed a hook kick on it that caved its flesh in around her boot and sent the ratroach sprawling to the ground, the knives it was holding pinwheeling through the air as it lost its grip. James caught one of its knives in mid flight, pivoted into a pitcher¡¯s stance, and flung it at full speed into the creature¡¯s chest. The blade half-cut into a patch of skin where it met chitin, and opened up a gash in the ratroach before bouncing across the floor beyond it. The monster lay there, dripping its own blood and drool, staring up at the grimly lit ceiling of the room. Its chest heaved with the ragged breaths it took, but it made no move to try to rise. James stood a yard or two away, in a rough circle around it with Sarah and Daniel trading looks over the body. Around them, the ratroaches encircling the arena seemed to be holding their breaths; not a sound from the crowd of dozens of the disgusting creatures. ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡± James announced. ¡°Sarah, Daniel. Get the door.¡± He let them run ahead, and then turned to keep an eye on their downed foe. ¡°Ah, fuck.¡± He muttered as the ratroach started to push itself up, blood running red lines through its pale fur. ¡°Goooood.¡± It coughed out. ¡°Aahhhhh¡­. Yesss. Goood praghyr.¡± The light in its eyes danced in joy, even as it had to suck in haggered breaths just to get the mangled words out. ¡°Next tiiiime¡­ againnnn¡­¡± It gasped the words, settling itself onto its hands and knees, prostrating itself on the jagged rocks of the floor. James looked at it, the adrenaline of the fight not having fully faded from his blood. Even though the coffee and his enchantments made it so he wasn¡¯t really in that much danger, the feeling of having something try to drive sharpened bone into your eye wasn¡¯t a pleasant one. And in that moment, he had a thought. He should just kill this thing. What possible good would come from leaving it alive? The last time he left an enemy alive, it came back and shot his friends. It would take six seconds to stomp this thing¡¯s throat into paste, and that would solve that problem forever. No risk that it would end up eating some random kid that fell into this place. No risk that it would sneak out and try to murder James or his family while they slept. He took a halting step forward. That was the point, wasn¡¯t it? He¡¯d won. Again. Every time someone tried to kill him, he¡¯d survived, and won. His reward should be a feeling of safety. And he wasn¡¯t going to get that if he kept trying to play nice. What was the point of surviving if no one ever tried to do *better*? James yanked the knife out of his armor where it had been buried, and took another step forward. The ratroach raised its eyes to look at him, and he got the sickening sense that it both knew what he was thinking, and was thrilled by it. He sighed, tossing the knife off to the side of the makeshift court. ¡°You know.¡± He said softly, crouching down in front of the thing. ¡°I¡¯m not really in a position to kink-shame anyone¡­¡± ¡°James!¡± Sarah called over, a rattling of metal accompanying her words. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t eat anyone until I get back.¡± James ordered the ratroach as he stood. It looked up at him with glee in its faceted eyes, and nodded its triangular head in obedience, before slumping back to lie prone in its own blood. The green sparks they had were enough to crack several lockers. They made it out of there with a water-damaged romance novel, a cliff notes version of some Shakespere play, a biology textbook, two spiral notebooks, and something that James was pretty sure was a German copy of a Harry Potter book. Each of them picked one of them, as they made their way through the blue metal door and past where Lua was still sitting keeping watch. It dropped them out right where they¡¯d started. James offered a book to Lua as well, and she accepted it. Each of them knew the value of having a little extra edge. Which left the romance novel and a spiral notebook to be tested out with the magic copy process, to see if they could start to spread the stat upgrades from this place into the whole of the Order as part of their loadout package. One by one, they cracked open the books they¡¯d chosen. It was either minutes or hours later that James looked up from whatever he was reading, the physical object of the book fading into dust that itself faded down into something smaller and smaller until it was gone from reality. And then, in the back of his head, the thought he¡¯d been waiting for. [Lesson Begun : Biology 0/200 Lesson Continues : Basketball 64/1200] He looked around at the other three members of the Order, and asked the obvious question. ¡°What¡¯chall got?¡± ¡°US History.¡± Daniel said, a little disappointed. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t like history. Dammit.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll link you a Youtube channel.¡± James promised. ¡°Sarah?¡± ¡°Art! I finally got art!¡± She exclaimed with delight. ¡°Finally? How many of these have you used?¡± Lua asked her. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching the door the whole time¡­¡± She glanced between the entrance to the dungeon and the young woman doing a small shuffling dance in the hallway. ¡°Also I got geometry. Does it not tell you what you get for completing it?¡± ¡°Not until your first upgrade.¡± James said sadly, unbuckling the damaged and dripping pieces of his armor. ¡°Daniel, empty your bag into mine, let¡¯s use yours to store all the gross stuff.¡± ¡°Aaw! No!¡± Daniel started to protest, until he was assured that they would be burning the bag afterward anyway and he wouldn¡¯t have to carry it with them. After that, stripped of as much of the mess as they could manage, the three of them said their quick goodbye to Lua with a promise to meet up again at the Lair later to discuss what had changed. According to her, they¡¯d been in there for only twenty minutes or so, not the few hours they¡¯d experienced. But it would still be prudent to vacate school grounds before anyone got too suspicious of them. FBI or not, there was no sense pushing the limits of their cover. In the car on the way back to the Lair, where James was given to understand someone had installed a hot shower in the basement, the three of them finally started to relax. ¡°Well, that was super fucked up!¡± Daniel exclaimed. ¡°I think I hate that place.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°Hey, James, you¡¯re still on about building that arcology, right?¡± ¡°Constantly. We¡¯re working on figuring out a few main things before we lay the foundations, though. Why?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m just thinking. If you can get Momo to magic you up some kind of portal, we could just connect it to that place, and use it as a sewage dump, and no one will worry or care.¡± James opened his mouth to explain that doing that might be unethical, or just mean to the life that lived in the Akashic Sewer, or might annoy the dungeon itself, or any *number* of other problems. But then he remembered the smell that still clung to his clothes and hair, thought about the sensation of slimy fingers and ragged fur trying to rip him apart, and checked his count of how many kids the place had killed in the last year alone. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± He settled on. ¡°I feel like at this point, literally shitting on that place is probably a fair response.¡± Chapter 132 ¡°This is the dream of small minds: a gentle place ringed in spears. But I do not think those spears will hold against the queen of the country of armies. And that is all that will matter in the end. ¡° - Toland the Shattered - The tower at the entrance to Officium Mundi had become something of a comfort zone for James. Which was kind of unsettling if he actually examined that feeling. Having been placed by the invisible hand of the god of this place shortly after he¡¯d led the rescue of several dozen prisoners of one of the life forms that the dungeon had spawned, it was hard to see the tower as anything other than a gift. Some people very clearly interpreted it as a threat; a sign that the dungeon was more than capable of reshaping itself to inconvenience them. And the fact that it was now the only ¡®safe zone¡¯ from the periodic resets of terrain and hazards that the dungeon now performed kind of lent some weight to that though. ¡°Here,¡± it was as if the Office was saying, ¡°is the one place I permit you to relax. Remember that I¡¯m in charge.¡± But despite that, James still saw it as a kind of thank you. The only kind the dungeon might have been able to offer; one full of hostile creatures and a game-breaking prize at the top. And so when he climbed its ramps and hallways to the top floor, far above what should have been possible with the ceiling height, he felt a sense of connection. Of belonging. And also of muscle soreness. Because it was still over ten floors to climb manually. They really needed to build an elevator or something they could easily set up here¡­ James dismissed that thought. There were more logistical problems with that than he cared to address right now. And besides, the exercise was good for them. Surmounting the top of the final ramp, James took a moment to catch his breath, hand idly pressing at the scar on his chest where he¡¯d been shot some months ago. He hated to admit it, but he wasn¡¯t back to full health yet. And if he was being honest with himself, he didn¡¯t know if he ever would be. Oh, sure, they saw enough magic in their lives that it was probably inevitable that they¡¯d happen upon healing bullshit at some point. But that didn¡¯t mean they had it now, or that it would be¡­ useful. It was a strange thought, but so much of the magical stuff they had was circumstantial and personal, that there wasn¡¯t really a promise that they¡¯d be able to make use of anything they found. Which was what led to them trying to abuse the *shit* out of the things they did find that could be applied en masse. James stood at the top of the ramp, waiting patiently and taking the chance to enjoy the view out the ¡®window¡¯ up here, while Anesh drew runes on the floor in coffee grounds. It was a ritual that they¡¯d gotten a lot of practice with, especially Anesh. There had been talk of finding a way to repurpose a roomba to draw the lines, but then Virgil had died and no one had taken up the project. So it was by hand for now, because it wasn¡¯t a big deal. The drawing, that is. The ritual itself was a huge deal; or at least, what it did. Anesh finished the last line, smoothly stood up being careful not to smudge anything, and paced confidently over to the overhead projector that was set up on the end of the conference table that dominated the space. There was a box sitting on the projector, blocking basically all the light from it, and Anesh took a minute to nudge it slightly, verifying that it was in place properly. Then he flicked the switch on the projector. The lines of coffee grounds on the floor, table, and chairs flared to a bright blue glow, some of them floating into the air like specks of gravity defying sand. There was a hum, and then a *snap*, and the coffee grounds vanished. Anesh dusted off his hands, and with that same quiet confidence of a man running a machine for the hundredth time, walked over to the screen at the front of the room, where a copy of the ¡®projected¡¯ box had materialized and dropped to the floor with a thud. ¡°Nicely done.¡± James called to him, hands cupped around his mouth as he exaggerated how large the room was. Anesh just smiled in response, walking back over and setting the cardboard box on the table, opening the top of it and starting to unpack the contents. Which was a bit tricky, because the contents were absolutely wedged in there as tight as possible. ¡°Alright.¡± He said, looking up after verifying everything. ¡°Hey James.¡± Anesh idly greeted his boyfriend before turning to address one of his fellow tower mages. ¡°No loss this time. Looks like we got it perfect. Which means we can now produce seventy two telepads per copying.¡± The camraconda up here with them bobbed its head, already doing the math before Anesh could ask. ¡°Seventy two, we average seven duplications each cycle, with five free warpings each object. That is twenty five hundred and twenty teleports, moving a maximum of fifteen thousand one hundred and twenty living persons. Each cycle.¡± The synthesized voice of the snake rattled off the numbers. ¡°Holy shit.¡± James muttered. ¡°To the number, or to the fact that Texture-Of-Barkdust can just do that in her head?¡± Anesh asked as he tried and failed to replace all the telepads in the duplicated box. ¡°Yes.¡± James said. ¡°Okay, so, I feel like I should let you know, we don¡¯t need that many telepads?¡± ¡°Oh, I know.¡± Anesh said. ¡°We¡¯ve got the numbers of average weekly operations from Response¡­¡± ¡°Forty one.¡± The camraconda chimed in. ¡°...And the average number of ¡®ports needed per operation¡­¡± Texture sounded about as smug as one could with a digital voice. ¡°Two and one half.¡± ¡°...Which means¡­¡± Anesh stopped himself, then glanced over at the camraconda. ¡°...did you want to¡­?¡± ¡°We require ninety three teleports be available.¡± James snickered as Anesh shook his head. ¡°Thanks. Anyway. This single box is enough of a buffer for *months*, even if we¡¯re ramping up operations and holding a massive reserve. And we still have enough coffee for two more duplications today. We¡¯re pretty bloody set.¡± ¡°Well damn. Nice.¡± James nodded in appreciation. ¡°So, now what?¡± ¡°Now we reset it for the next run, which is the books you guys dug out of the Sewer, along with a few orbs we¡¯re testing to see if they¡¯re worth keeping in the rotation permanently.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°You wanna hang out? I¡¯ve already got an assistant for today, but I don¡¯t mind an extra set of hands.¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯m gonna be here at least long enough to catch my breath.¡± James informed his boyfriend while rolling his shoulder dramatically. ¡°Did you know that your wizard tower is *actually quite tall*?¡± ¡°People keep telling me that.¡± Anesh grinned. ¡°Hey, toss me that coffee bag.¡± He pointed to a milk crate near the ramp where they stored the stuff, and waited for James to lean down and grab one of the bags to underhand lob over his direction. It landed almost perfectly in the palm of his hand, and Anesh almost snorted at how absurd James¡¯ had gotten at putting things where he wanted them to go. Was it basketball practice, or the stat bonus from the magical basketball practice? It was hard to tell. ¡°Hey, so, something I wanted to ask you.¡± Anesh said as he knelt down and started carefully pouring a line of coffee onto the floor. ¡°Is it going to be awkward?¡± James asked, hiding a wince as he walked over to see if he could help, carrying another bag of the magical ritual coffee grounds. ¡°Maybe.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡°So, I heard about what happened in the Sewer. Partially from you, I guess, but also, you know. Just in general.¡± ¡°Yeah, that place is fucked up.¡± James accompanied the words by sticking out his tongue like he was trying to shed a bad taste. ¡°Did I tell you about the arms?¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Yes, I have heard about the arms. Thanks for that nightmare fuel. But no, I was thinking about the ratroach you fought at the gate.¡± ¡°Oh. That.¡± Yeah, that. It was a question that had been bugging Anesh for days now. But even with three of him running around, he hadn¡¯t actually found a good time to ask, until now. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta know, mate.¡± He said, pausing in his work and looking up with curious eyes at James¡¯ ashamed face. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just kill it?¡± James sighed. A long, heavy sigh that made it sound like he had the same question and no good answer. Which was basically true. ¡°I don¡¯t fuckin¡¯ know.¡± He admitted with a depressed tone to his voice. ¡°Lots of reasons? No good reason? It was so pathetic.¡± James said. ¡°What, the ratroach?¡± ¡°Kinda, yeah. But also the whole situation. Like, it *wanted* to fight. I think it wanted to die, too. And I can backwards justify letting it¡­ fuck, no, letting *her* live¡­ but I don¡¯t know what I was thinking at the time.¡± ¡°Alright, go ahead.¡± Anesh prompted, sitting back on his heels and waiting. ¡°Go ahead what?¡± ¡°Go ahead and justify. I wanna see how you think. You know that your thought process is interesting, right?¡± James flushed bright red and tried to look at anything in the room that wouldn¡¯t look back at him. ¡°God dammit, stop that.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°But fine. Okay, so, like I said. It wanted to die. Right away, that¡¯s a good reason not to do it, because the dungeon is *creepy and awful*. But also¡­ I mean, it did something different. It talked. It also tried to stab me, but it didn¡¯t bait us into murdering each other, and when we fought, it didn¡¯t summon the other hundred roaches from the sidelines. I think it was fighting as close to fair as it knew how.¡± ¡°Weird.¡± Anesh frowned. ¡°Right?¡± James sat down next to him, arms spread behind himself to prop his body up while he talked. ¡°So, there¡¯s that. But also, and I¡¯m not exaggerating here, it seriously felt like it was getting off on the violence. And I don¡¯t wanna kink shame anyone, but I wasn¡¯t prepared to murder someone who had a fetish for it.¡± ¡°Fair. Also ew. Am I allowed to think that¡¯s kinda gross?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°As the queerest person in the room, I give you permission to think it¡¯s gross to orgasm over your own death, yes.¡± James tapped Anesh on the shoulders like he was knighting him. ¡°Anyway. The other thing¡­ ah, this is silly.¡± Anesh laid a hand on James¡¯ shoulder ¡°Sillier than murder sex?¡± He asked. ¡°Kinda? Okay, the Akashic Sewer - and we need to give Sarah a prize for that name - the Sewer steals a lot of metaphors from the school it¡¯s under, right? Quizzes, lessons, even the fact that the geometry of it doesn¡¯t seem to care which direction you go, only that you¡¯re there long enough.¡± ¡°Sure, I get that. You could even look at the gross stuff as the darkest possible aspects of things like lunchroom food or puberty or whatever.¡± Anesh agreed. ¡°Which is awful and thanks for making me think that!¡± James grinned. ¡°No problem.¡± He let the smile fall away, then. ¡°But here¡¯s the thing. You know what I wanted in high school?¡± He paused, but it was clear he wasn¡¯t actually asking Anesh to answer. ¡°Man, when I was in school, about half the time, all I wanted was to die.¡± James said it in a quiet voice, but that didn¡¯t make it any less real, or painful. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to be there, I didn¡¯t know what I was doing. I was looking, constantly, for some excuse to die gloriously so I could be cool, but also so it could all be over.¡± He took a deep breath, feeling a flutter in his heart as Anesh didn¡¯t say anything, just placed a hand on James¡¯ back and ran it across his shoulders. ¡°Anyway. In the moment, that was¡­ that was what I was thinking. That it looked like a monster, that it acted like a monster, that it tried to stab me like a monster, but that she wanted the same thing I did when I was a student.¡± ¡°And so you let her live.¡± ¡°I did.¡± James admitted. Acknowledged. He sat forward, hands on his knees. ¡°I did.¡± He said again with more conviction. ¡°Because if there¡¯s a chance that they¡¯re people, that we can help them, then¡­¡± Anesh grinned. ¡°I mean, that is what we do.¡± He looked across the room to where Texture-Of-Barkdust, an inhuman snake thing that could stop momentum with a glance. Who also was eerily good at math, who merely tolerated pizza, but loved youtube videos of otters. James followed his gaze with a smile. A smile that faltered and turned into a confused expression a second later. ¡°Ah. Hang the fuck on.¡± He said, raising a finger into the air. ¡°Wait. Wait!¡± ¡°Waiting¡­?¡± Anesh rolled to a crouch as James bolted to his feet. ¡°What¡¯s¡­?¡± With a worried jab of his finger toward the now concerned looking camraconda, James put words to the panicked question on his mind. ¡°How? How snake here dungeon green thing problem?¡± He rapid-fire rattled off keywords without regard for syntax or grammar before switching to something most humans would recognize as English. ¡°Isn¡¯t it super dangerous for green Life to come back in here? Aren¡¯t we at all worried Officium Mundi is going to take control again?¡± ¡°Oh! Yes. That would be a problem.¡± Anesh¡¯s shoulders slumped as he breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°This is a test to see if the earring from Status Quo lets the camracondas operate in here. It¡¯s working so far.¡± Anesh waved a hand, and Texture-Of-Barkdust tilted its head to show off a dangling metal charm hanging from the side of its head. ¡°It¡¯s the one that lets you go invisible. Among other powers.¡± Anesh answered James¡¯ upcoming question. ¡°Anyway. We¡¯ve been here for a couple hours and it¡¯s fine so far. You¡¯re fine so far, right?¡± Anesh shot the question across the room. ¡°There is discomfort.¡± The camraconda admitted with its digital voice. ¡°But I am myself. I will not do this again.¡± ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re good.¡± Anesh nodded to James. ¡°I feel like I should have noticed this earlier.¡± He said, taking a deep breath and trying not to panic. ¡°This is what I get for being literally one minute late to the delve.¡± James chided himself. ¡°A minute is a long time around here.¡± Anesh chuckled. ¡°Anyway. Get off my coffee. I need to finish this.¡± James stood around while Anesh worked. But after a few minutes of quiet, he had to ask the thing that was on his mind. ¡°So, you¡¯re not mad at me for not killing the ratroach?¡± ¡°What?¡± Anesh looked up from the ritual reference he was following, surprised. ¡°No! Why would I be?¡± ¡°I dunno. People get mad at me when I¡¯m not ruthless enough.¡± James felt his shoulders droop. Anesh snorted. ¡°That¡¯s absolutely not true. Except for Randall, but¡­ ugh. Poor Randall. He died as he lived; failing to properly understand us.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kinda mean.¡± ¡°I guess. Okay, yes, it is. But really, no one is mad at you for¡­ oh, is this about Status Quo?¡± Anesh¡¯s face turned serious. ¡°It is, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°If I¡¯d just shot all of them, a lot of people would still be alive.¡± James said quietly. ¡°If you¡¯d just shot all of them, you wouldn¡¯t be James.¡± Anesh replied, at the same volume, but much firmer. ¡°You don¡¯t need me or Alanna around to tell you that. And yeah, you could have, fuck, how do you even say it? You could have ¡®solved a problem¡¯ by just killing everyone who threatened us. But where does that stop? I¡¯m gonna start listing people who threaten us, and you stop me when it gets to be too much.¡± ¡°I think¡­¡± ¡°Local organized crime. Local law enforcement.¡± Anesh ticked off on his fingers. ¡°*Federal* law enforcement. The US government. The US military. Probably also the Canadian government, given that we fabricated a citizenship there¡­¡± ¡°I get¡­¡± ¡°Anyone who could blow our flimsy cover, including but not limited to, a bunch of high school students and several baristas in the local area. Your sis¡­¡± Anesh choked on the word ¡®sister¡¯, but then carried on. ¡°Roughly half of our members, who now have inhuman powers. Lua is capable of snapping people''s necks by looking at them funny; she''s a massive threat." He pointed a finger across the room to the other person with them. "Fully half our Order isn''t actually human, and could in theory be an enemy of humanity. Texture-Of-Barkdust could probably kill both of us right now if he caught us at the right angle and locked us up." A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°I get it.¡± James said. And then, again, a little harder. ¡°I get it!¡± ¡°Also we''ve pissed off a cadre of uber-wealthy American oligarchs by screwing up their weird sex cult thing, so there''s that too.¡± ¡°That one was just JP.¡± James protested. ¡°Anyone with a vested interest in the way things are is going to try to stop us. Some of them are going to use guns. Some of them are going to try worse.¡± Anesh whispered in the quiet of the tower¡¯s top floor. ¡°And we can¡¯t just kill everyone until we¡¯re the last ones left.¡± ¡°I know.¡± James said. ¡°But, fuck. I don¡¯t want to keep losing people because I didn¡¯t make the hard choice. What if that ratroach comes out of the sewer and stabs a kid? What if she gets stronger and stabs *you*? What if I could have prevented a dozen deaths by just snapping her neck?¡± ¡°What if you went back in time and killed baby Hitler, eh?¡± Anesh snorted the question out. James rolled his eyes. ¡°Ugh. I hate that question. Babies aren¡¯t responsible for anything. It¡¯s a million times more ethical to just adopt baby Hitler and then encourage him when he starts getting into art.¡± He looked over to where Anesh was standing, arms spread, eyebrows raised. The look on his face so clearly screaming ¡®yeah, *and*?¡¯. James thought about it for a second. ¡°Oh.¡± He said, finally. ¡°Okay, fine.¡± ¡°She can¡¯t be more than a few months old. And you know how to connect with her.¡± Anesh said, fidgeting with the mouth of the paper bag of coffee on the table. ¡°So, you know¡­ go adopt baby Hitler.¡± James started laughing silently. ¡°We need to call it something else aside from that.¡± He said, once he¡¯d caught his breath. ¡°I don¡¯t actually want to keep saying ¡®baby Hitler¡¯ over and over.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll workshop it.¡± Anesh offered. ¡°But yeah, this is stuff we should be talking about with the whole Order. Because a lot of this is going to be the ethics and philosophy we take with us when we start building a justice system.¡± ¡°Oof. I am not qualified for that.¡± James shuddered. ¡°I mean, I guess no one was when they first drew it up. But it¡¯s hard to think of building a legal code from scratch.¡± ¡°Is it?¡± Anesh glanced up again from where he¡¯d started trying to consult his ritual sheet again. He wasn¡¯t making much progress during the conversation, and the camraconda had largely taken over drawing the floor lines. ¡°I mean, okay, we¡¯ve got that big list of things we need to plan out before we start construction of an arcology, but I seriously think ¡®plumbing¡¯ is harder than ¡®peacekeeping¡¯.¡± ¡°Based on¡­?¡± James prompted. ¡°Based on how expensive a working sewage system will be to maintain.¡± Anesh flatly said. ¡°We need to hire city planners, by the way. We need more money for this whole endeavor. Orders of magnitude more money.¡± ¡°I¡¯m working on it.¡± James cryptically said. ¡°I mean, more, how do you figure peacekeeping is easy?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not exactly easy, but remember what Alanna brought up a long time ago, that roughly nine tenths of crime is motivated by poverty? Well, she was lowballing it. And the entire point of building an arcology is to create a self-sufficient community free from scarcity. That chunks down the amount of actual law enforcement we need by a *lot*.¡± ¡°Fair. But there¡¯s still stuff beyond just peacekeeping. Contract law, for example. Did you know that a two rank orb in contract law just generates more questions than it answers? I didn¡¯t! But I do now!¡± James threw his arms into the air in frustration. ¡°Also, you¡¯re assuming entirely community-based legal situations, which doesn¡¯t cover what we do when foreign powers start meddling with our society.¡± He pointed out. ¡°And there¡¯s still the big question to answer of ¡®what is the ethical foundation of our law?¡¯ Like, do we exist to protect the innocent? To protect the society? I sure as shit know we don¡¯t want it to be punitive, because that hasn¡¯t been working out for *anyone* in the real world. But being able to see bad examples operating in real time doesn¡¯t actually answer the question of what the best answer is.¡± Anesh blinked, looked up from the table where he¡¯d scrawled a rune in the coffee grounds, then glanced back down and smoothed it out to start over, before saying, ¡°That¡¯s way more thought than I¡¯ve put into it. I was kinda just assuming that Alanna had¡­ an answer¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°Fuck, I miss her.¡± James said, turning to stare out the window down at the other delvers assembled around the base of the tower, thumping a fist against the frame. ¡°Recovery has been looking.¡± Anesh commented. ¡°They¡¯re taking it as some kind of personal challenge. It¡¯s a little inspiring.¡± ¡°I¡¯m really not mad, you know.¡± James said suddenly. ¡°What?¡± ¡°About Alanna. I¡¯m not mad. I dunno, I have a lot of random-ass anxieties, it¡¯s something I¡¯d be worried about, you know?¡± Anesh kept his eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of him. ¡°Because I lost her.¡± He said simply. ¡°Because one of you *died inconveniently*.¡± James corrected him. ¡°Like, yeah, it¡¯s inconvenient. And a little horrible. But it¡¯s not your fault, and it¡¯s not like I¡¯m gonna be annoyed that you failed to, fuck, I dunno, take notes? Like, in the middle of a firefight, just stop to text the group chat with an address? Nah, we were busy, that¡¯d be stupid. So, not mad.¡± ¡°I¡¯m kinda mad.¡± ¡°At me?¡± ¡°At me.¡± Anesh clarified. ¡°For all that stuff.¡± James nodded, leaning back on the windowsill to face Anesh. ¡°And that¡¯s why I¡¯m telling you I¡¯m not mad. It¡¯s fine, really. We¡¯ll find her, somehow.¡± ¡°There¡¯s always magical scrying rituals!¡± A girl¡¯s voice called breathlessly from the top of the ramp. Both of them looked over to where Momo had ascended the ramp, looking like she¡¯d tried rushing up the first few floors and then staggeringly flopped up the rest after she ran out of breath. Despite being younger than both James and Anesh, Momo was one of those people who felt like they were more mature than they reasonably had to be for their age. JP had once commented that it was because Momo had chosen an easy style to be consistent with, and then just dressed goth every day, which made her come across as someone who had her shit together more than most teenagers. James had, in turn, pointed out that Momo was in her early twenties, and also had undergone a traumatic kidnapping by an entire magical office complex, before starting her career as a literal wizard, so maybe give her some credit. Even if it was credit to someone who put silvered studs on her body armor. She was also, despite looking flushed and sweating, not actually panting that hard from her race up the tower. James eyed her suspiciously, and noted that even the camraconda¡¯s eye lens narrowed in suspicion. ¡°Were you just hanging out on the ramp waiting for a good dramatic entrance moment?¡± ¡°I learned it from watching you!¡± Momo exclaimed. ¡°Also I didn¡¯t want to interrupt. You guys sounded like you were having a moment.¡± ¡°First of all, don¡¯t eavesdrop.¡± Anesh scolded her. ¡°Second of all, I¡¯ve played tabletop RPGs with James. He has all the dramatic timing of a plate of chips.¡± ¡°I arrive a little too late and cool off while you eat other food?¡± James mocked. Anesh continued like he hadn¡¯t been interrupted at all. ¡°No, you¡¯re looking at *Sarah* and learning these horrible things. I¡¯m given to understand that she was the theater kid here anyway.¡± ¡°Anyway, Anesh¡¯s disdain for my comedic genius aside,¡± James ignored the several rolled eyes in the room. ¡°You actually got something that¡¯s remotely close to what we need?¡± He asked Momo. She grinned widely, and shook her head in a frenetic back and forth. ¡°Not even a little bit!¡± Momo said it with all the energy of a positive answer, perhaps hoping that if she didn¡¯t show any disappointment, it wouldn¡¯t register with anyone else. ¡°But!¡± She held up a finger before James could cut in, ¡°I¡¯ve got¡­ something?¡± ¡°But not a way to find specific individuals.¡± ¡°No. Not yet.¡± Momo admitted. James sighed, but tried to not look too put out. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m still curious. What¡¯re you working on?¡± ¡°So, you know how I can make totems out of the red orbs now?¡± Anesh let out a questioning hum. ¡°Ehhh, I know that you can make totems, but you can¡¯t really target what information they give, can you?¡± ¡°Not really!¡± Momo agreed. ¡°But we¡¯ve kinda been collecting the things; no one wants to stockpile too many ranks of prudence or something stupid. So I¡¯ve been tinkering with a *lot* of them.¡± ¡°Worrying. They cause brain damage in large numbers, don¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Probably! Let me finish you jerk.¡± Momo glared at Anesh while James snickered slightly. ¡°Anyway. *No*, a person can¡¯t really process too many of them. *But*, it turns out, we¡¯ve got a lot of these little things that can grow programs to our specifications. *So*, what I¡¯ve been doing, is rigging up a system of computers that can process the totem data from, like, a lot of them. And then have one controller program that can sift through it all, and find things that don¡¯t fit, or match specific search patterns. A very ramshackle panopticon, but eventually it shoooould work?¡± James raised a single eyebrow. ¡°The way you made that a question does not inspire confidence.¡± ¡°Well, I mean, we need a lot more of the emerald chips. And I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯ll be able to get too specific. Honestly I think the whole thing will be better for finding dungeons than finding¡­ well, Alanna.¡± In an effort to not get too sad about things again, James diverted. ¡°So why call it a ritual if it¡¯s just a bunch of computers running the world¡¯s second most personally invasive form of Google?¡± ¡°Because it sounds cool. Duh.¡± ¡°Was there a reason you were *here*?¡± Anesh rubbed at his forehead, dusting himself with loose coffee grounds. ¡°Not that this isn¡¯t interesting, but you¡¯re both slowing down my actual project here tonight.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah!¡± Momo pulled a pouch off her armor¡¯s plate and tossed it to Anesh who fumbled the catch and had to pick it up off the floor. ¡°Brought you a green, if you needed anything to test out duplicates of.¡± She waved at James. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s actually all. We¡¯re headed back out, Daniel¡¯s taking us to a cave and we¡¯re gonna haul out so much processed silver. And also magical computer programs. Guys, our lives are *weird* as heck.¡± She called the last part over her shoulder as she half-jogged half-slid down the ramp again. Anesh grumbled to himself as he shook the green orb out of the pouch. ¡°That girl is a spaz.¡± ¡°I think that¡¯s a rude word these days.¡± James pointed out. ¡°American rude, or everywhere rude?¡± Anesh asked back. ¡°Because your country¡­¡± ¡°You live here too. And we¡¯re *both* trying to build something new.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± ¡°Anyway. American rude.¡± James answered the original question. Anesh snorted a breath of laughter. ¡°Knew it. Ah well. That does remind me that we need to get a chip or ten working on hunting down digital dungeons. I keep forgetting, to the point that I¡¯m worried it¡¯s an antimeme.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make a note to remind you, if I don¡¯t forget.¡± James joked, but actually did take the time to pull out his phone and type in a line to his to-do list. So!¡± James segued again. ¡°What¡¯s left on the copier tonight? More guns that shoot fireballs? More guns that shoot *spiders*?¡± ¡°No one enjoyed that weaponry.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust chimed in from where it had finished the last floor-line of coffee. ¡°Including all accounted spiders.¡± ¡°Also weapons are bulky and inefficient uses of our copy space.¡± Anesh said. ¡°We¡¯ve actually got a priority chart on¡­¡± he scanned the space they were in, before pointing, ¡°*that* whiteboard. Basically, if we aren¡¯t resupplying consumables like telepads, we make upgrade kits for people, and if we¡¯ve got enough of those, we test new greens and purples. With a couple copies each night set aside for goodwill.¡± ¡°Like the hearts?¡± James asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± Anesh confirmed with an unseen nod, as he walked to the low row of bankers boxes against the wall and shuffled them around to pick one out. ¡°Although right now, I¡¯ve been thinking we can do better.¡± ¡°I hear there¡¯s a vaccine in the works. You wanna copy that?¡± ¡°Oh, god no. Manufacturing should be way beyond what we can add. And besides, we don¡¯t have the refrigeration. Remember that we¡¯re super cheating with the hearts thanks to whatever blue Sarah had at the time. We can¡¯t really handle most medical things. No, I was thinking that we should be making runs of the purple orb that boosts immune systems.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that run into the same problem, that we can¡¯t really make enough to¡­ make enough?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, it seems like it would be more effective to do copy-testing of greens at hospitals, and hope for upgrades that can effect people en masse, right?¡± Anesh considered that for a minute. ¡°Hm. Good point. But the purples could save lives directly. Even if it¡¯s only a few. It doesn¡¯t fix the whole problem, but¡­¡± ¡°You start with one.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Something Alanna liked to say. Likes to say. It¡¯s the only answer that feels acceptable to the Nirvana Fallacy. If you can¡¯t save every single person all at once, then instead of giving up, you start by saving who you can.¡± James touched a few fingers to his chest, wondering if the gnawing sensation was from the surgery scar, or a much deeper hurt. ¡°I think she¡¯d be disappointed with me.¡± He muttered. ¡°I spent three fucking months doing nothing. We could have been helping. I should have been helping.¡± ¡°We never stopped creating human parts.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust added as the camraconda slithered between the two of them to toss an empty bag of coffee into the trash bin. ¡°And now we have something else we can duplicate.¡± Anesh said simply. ¡°We¡¯re learning. It¡¯s okay.¡± He shrugged. ¡°So, how many immunity boosters do you think the doc can use?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± James rumbled out incredulously. ¡°Seven billion? Give or take?¡± Anesh nodded, keeping his face blank. ¡°Mm hm. Mm hm. Okay.¡± He opened up a carton with foam inserts for orbs, perfectly sized to fit on the projector. ¡°Let¡¯s start with a hundred and twenty, and go from there.¡± ¡°You can duplicate a hundred and twenty orbs at once?¡± James was impressed. ¡°That¡¯s actually awesome.¡± ¡°Well, they have to be the small ones, which these thankfully are. And also we¡¯ll need to get up to the point that we have a hundred and twenty extras. So, a lot of testing with other things while we do it. We¡¯re still perfecting the procedure so we maximize gain.¡± He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re using this right. It still feels like we¡¯re missing something obvious.¡± Anesh stared at the projector screen on the wall, still sporting a few finger sized bullet holes from where he and James had claimed this place from its previous occupants. ¡°You know what this whole thing makes me think of?¡± James asked suddenly. ¡°That we don¡¯t appreciate our magical adventure space nearly enough?¡± ¡°No¡­ yes. Okay, that too. But also, just how fucking annoying poverty is.¡± James spit the words out with a sudden venom that Anesh wasn¡¯t expecting. Anesh looked up from where he was adding labeled orbs to the copy crate. ¡°Annoying?¡± ¡°Maybe the wrong word, but¡­ okay, look. We can literally make matter out of nowhere, duplicate *anything* that isn¡¯t too big, and yet¡­ we can¡¯t even make a dent in the nature of poverty, even in just our city. There¡¯s too many people, it¡¯s too fucking big. But *also*, every time we try to think of things to copy, we end up with this circular conversation where whatever we come up with, it¡¯s just more effective to *do it manually*! Like with the vaccine thing! You said the manufacturers could make more than us, probably in five minutes and they¡¯ve outdone our wizard bullshit! That¡¯s kinda great.¡± He trailed off. ¡°But?¡± Anesh asked as he replaced part of the foam in the crate with the two books from the school, wedging them in at an awkward angle. ¡°But if it¡¯s so easy, why in the *fuck* do we pretend that we need some kind of future tech to get to a post scarcity society?¡± James didn¡¯t realize how angry he sounded, even though he felt it. ¡°In just this country, something like thirty-ish percent of food doesn¡¯t get eaten. Thirty. Percent. Starvation should be a goddamn illusion. There are literally more empty houses and apartments than there are people without homes, and every time I drive past the new apartment block being constructed near our place, my blood boils. If building more homes actually helped, then you should be able to pay rent with loose change and a Taco Bell gift card.¡± He chopped a hand down in a furious motion. ¡°Poverty is *fake*. Every single problem we have is one of logistics. And yet, we¡¯re sitting here trying to figure out how to fix problems that *shouldn¡¯t even fucking exist*,¡± he almost yelled the words, ¡°with goddamn *magic*, that would be better used making everyone immortal instead of trying to prop up a health care industry that focused more on the industry part than the care bit.¡± Silence greeted him. His boyfriend and the camraconda assistant stared at James with concern and confusion respectively. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know how to fix it.¡± Anesh admitted into the still air. ¡°What is poverty?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked. ¡°It¡¯s when you don¡¯t have enough to sustain yourself effectively, so you have to go to excessive lengths to stay alive, and you¡¯re punished in various ways that make it very hard to build a better way to sustain yourself.¡± James answered. ¡°Ah. Like us.¡± The camraconda bobbed in a nod. ¡°Sense. You rescue people from things.¡± ¡°We rescued you from a dungeon, not from¡­¡± James stopped, thought about it. ¡°Okay, yeah.¡± ¡°Now your ¡®dungeon¡¯ causes more poverty.¡± The camraconda stated, matter of factly. ¡°So. You rescue people.¡± ¡°We call them a ¡®government¡¯.¡± Anesh intersected. ¡°Not a dungeon.¡± ¡°I learn.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust made a mental note. ¡°Thirty percent? Really?¡± Anesh refocused on what James had said. ¡°Why? Where does it go?¡± ¡°Thrown out, mostly. It happens at either the highest or lowest level, which is why it¡¯s a problem. Either a farm doesn¡¯t sell its product, so it just gets shipped to a landfill, or the individual person doesn¡¯t use what they buy, so the same thing.¡± James¡¯ shoulders slumped. ¡°And it¡¯s really hard to get people to buy exactly as many tomatoes as they need. Which is part of why this is a problem at all; a lot of the solutions are¡­ specific, and finicky? Like, making grocery stores more accessible, which incentivizes smaller shopping trips. Stuff like centralizing food supplies, improving preservation techniques¡­¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that what cans are for?¡± ¡°I more meant finding magical bullshit answers, like how we can keep lettuce in our apartment for, like, a month now.¡± ¡°What?¡± Anesh jolted upright. ¡°What did you do to our apartment.¡± He flatly demanded. James tilted his head back. ¡°Nothing? Remember, oh god, like, a year ago? We got a green orb that just gave us a debuff to entropy. Apparently it does that.¡± He shook off the question and continued his original thought. ¡°Anyway. The point is, there are obviously ways to make less food get wasted. But they all require people to change their lifestyles, or they¡¯re bigger things like shipping, which are logistically expensive. None of them are *impossible*, though, and most of them aren¡¯t actually hard at all. That¡¯s what makes me so fucking angry, is that we *could* have solved all of this. Humanity, that is, not us individually.¡± ¡°I remember Alanna saying something about the cost of ending world hunger a while back?¡± Anesh half asked. ¡°Like, it would take ten billion dollars a year, for a decade?¡± ¡°Most recent estimates put it at about thirty-ish billion a year for ten years, but yeah.¡± James agreed, and then saw the weird look Anesh gave him. ¡°What? I¡¯ve been doing a lot of research on this.¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°Nothing.¡± He said. ¡°Anyway. That¡¯s not¡­ actually that much money. Is that because of this whole thing? Where the food¡¯s already there and we just need to get it where it needs to be?¡± ¡°More or less, I think.¡± James said. ¡°I am, honestly, not an expert on this. But it does seem that way. And yeah, it *isn¡¯t* that much money. Do you think it would be worth it to just become rich and then throw money at global problems? Would that be a better long term solution than the arcology thing?¡± ¡°Do both.¡± The camraconda suggested. ¡°No appreciation for poverty.¡± It was strange how much venom it could put on a word with a digital voice. ¡°What they said.¡± Anesh agreed. ¡°Leveraging wealth is nice, but prototyping a better way of building societies and living as people is a long term benefit for all of humanity. And if it doesn¡¯t work¡­ then we tried. We can keep trying. As long as it takes to get it right.¡± ¡°Could be a while.¡± James told him. ¡°Eh. If I get bored, I¡¯ll just make another duplicate and send them off to have adventures for me.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡°Oh yeah, how¡¯s working at NASA?¡± James asked after he got his laugh under control. Anesh shrugged. ¡°I dunno! The me that went off to have adventures isn¡¯t available to plug into that often.¡± ¡°I feel like you¡¯re a one-man example of the parable of the choir.¡± James said, still smiling. He felt a little better, having expressed his frustrations. And even though the problems were still there, at least now they knew what they needed to fix. ¡°Is that the thing where choirs can hold notes forever because there¡¯s enough people?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°What is a choir?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked. James jumped a little at the voice that came from right next to him. ¡°Okay, that obfuscation power of yours is working a little too well.¡± He said as he let the adrenaline shot bleed out of his chest. ¡°A choir is a group of singers that¡­ I don¡¯t know how to explain this. We¡¯ll find some Youtube videos when we¡¯re out.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± The camraconda bobbed in appreciation. ¡°So, the food thing.¡± Anesh circled back. ¡°Is that part of the benefit of arcology construction? I¡¯ve read some of the stuff you wrote about it, but most of it was about the practicality of construction, and the broader social element.¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s one of the things.¡± James nodded. ¡°You can have food production be scaled to population, and be local. Of course, usually, that would mean having hydroponics or artificial meat production facilities, with maybe a few natural farms surrounding the place. But if we can actually make the orange orbs work the way we want, we can just compress whole actual outdoor farms and ranches into the interior.¡± Anesh held up his hands in front of his face, eyes wrinkled as he tried to process a thought. He clapped his fingers together a couple times, and then figured out the words he wanted. ¡°I want this to not seem awful.¡± He started. ¡°But isn¡¯t it insanely dangerous to have orange totems as a foundation? What if they break? What if someone *breaks them*.¡± He met James¡¯ eye. ¡°We are not going to have a shortage of enemies. And having a single point of failure seems massively problematic.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already got Reed and his people working on redundancies as part of the development.¡± James said. He wasn¡¯t offended; he agreed a hundred percent. ¡°They¡¯ve already made some actual progress, by the way; and no one has died!¡± James said that in a saccharine cheerful voice. ¡°Also, I figure we draw up all our maps with obvious spaces that have the totems in them, then put fake totems there, and bury the real ones two miles underground. I dunno, I¡¯ll talk to the architects when we¡¯re ready to hire them.¡± ¡°When is that gonna be, anyway?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Not that I¡¯m complaining that we¡¯re dragging our feet or anything. But what are we waiting for?¡± ¡°Well, more money, for one thing. Which we are working on, in a lot of ways. But mostly, it¡¯s for the orange orb research to get to a usable point. And then to find the right combination of greens to make things¡­ not perfect, but good enough. Better. And it¡¯s also not just architects, we¡¯re going to need to hire a whole brigade of experts. City planners, craftspersons like plumbers and electricians, psychologists, lawyers, hell if we can get some of the people who worked on the Shimizu pyramid or Arcosanti, I want them.¡± ¡°Worked on...what?¡± Anesh looked confused. ¡°Arcologies. One early attempt at a prototype and one modern one that isn¡¯t done and is, I¡¯m pretty sure, used as a plot device in the Deus Ex games? The new ones.¡± ¡°The new arcologies?¡± ¡°The new games. Did you ever play Deus Ex?¡± ¡°No¡­ wait, what?!¡± Anesh leaned forward on the now-sealed duplication crate on the table in front of him. ¡°Sorry, *what*? There are real arcologies? I thought this was a sci-fi thing you wanted to bring to life!¡± James looked offended, slightly tilting his nose up as he answered. ¡°Of course they¡¯re real! You didn¡¯t read my report at all, did you?¡± He accused his boyfriend. ¡°I read some!¡± Anesh protested. ¡°Also you never read my dissertation either!¡± He tried to counter James¡¯ indignation. ¡°Anesh I love you, but your dissertation was on math that counts as a cognitohazard for most humans.¡± James chuckled. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s fine. I¡¯m mostly just stuff that¡¯ll be passed off to people smarter than us anyway. Certainly smarter than me.¡± ¡°You underestimate yourself.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Eh.¡± James waved it off. He knew he shouldn¡¯t. He was letting his innate depressive instinct for self depreciation in again. ¡°Anyway. You know the important part, which is the whole *point*. Build a community that¡¯s sustainable, and compassionate. A community where weaknesses and flaws don¡¯t get people excluded, a place where people take care of each other because life is valuable. That¡¯s what matters. Everything else is fiddly details.¡± ¡°I love you.¡± Anesh told him with a wavering smile. Then he laughed a little, still kind of embarrassed at his own words. ¡°Alright. Well. Wanna watch me violate the laws of conservation of matter again? I¡¯m ready to go here. And if you *help* instead of *distracting me*, we can get the last two runs done quick and maybe go hunt down a tumblefeed or something for fun.¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± James agreed with a grin. ¡°Let¡¯s see if copied school books work! I¡¯m actually excited about this. And also a little concerned, but whatever.¡± Anesh grinned, and flicked the switch, and a box full of power popped into existence with a flare of light. _____ As it turned out, after they shared the duplicated books with volunteers to test them, they *did* work. The only downside was, as James put it, it was the *same lesson*. Nate and Deb both had [Writing 0/100]. But that number didn¡¯t go up unless both of them learned the same fact or piece of information. They were taking the same class. It was, all things considered, probably the least bad downside that was possible. Everyone took a collective breath; even the infomorphic form of Pathfinder who had been standing by to purge the magic out of their minds in case it was needed. Path hated being called on for that kind of duty, according to Daniel. But she was the only one available who had even the ability to try, even if it wasn¡¯t her skillset like it was with¡­ James bit his lip. Hm. He could have sworn¡­ But Pathfinder and Planner were the only infomorphs that the Order counted among their number. There would have been another, but Curiosity had unwound herself within hours of her own creation, because they¡¯d screwed it up. And no one wanted to repeat that horrible mistake. Ah well. Anesh was waiting for him. Maybe the two of them could find another friend out in the Office before the night was done. Chapter 133 ¡°A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals, and you know it.¡± - Agent Kay - ¡°Ughh.¡± James let out the noise as he lay half-sprawled across the desk. It looked like a chaotic gesture, but in reality, he¡¯d flopped quite gently to avoid spilling the host of manilla folders that currently cluttered the space. He¡¯d also taken the time to make sure his ponytail had hit the desk next to his head, and so the cascade of black hair looked suitably dramatic. James waited for a minute or two, and then tilted his eyes up toward the door. Nothing. ¡°Uggggghhhhhh!¡± He repeated, louder and with more dramatic infliction than the first try. He was sitting in his office, on the thirty-somethingth floor of a building in another city from where most of the elevator that took him here was. Securing the space had been JP¡¯s doing, and as near as James was aware, he¡¯d literally won it in a bet, which was worrying for all kinds of reasons. Bridging the geographical gap had been the work of several people with individual powers and a lot of willpower coming together to create a very specific doorway from their main building, to this actual office space. He had a corner office. With shelves and decent lighting and stuff. It was weird. Or, maybe weird was a word he should stop throwing around, since he had dungeon adventures on half the days of the week now. Absurd? Unexpected, at least. There was a list of people who belonged in offices, and James wasn¡¯t on it. Not normal offices, anyway. From the hall outside his door, which was currently sitting open and letting the distressed noises he was making circulate, came the sound of footsteps. James slumped back to the desktop. ¡°What the butts are you doing?¡± The eternally bubbly voice of Sarah asked him. James looked up. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress, ignoring the fact that it was December, and leaning against the doorframe. ¡°I¡¯m being dramatic.¡± James told her. ¡°Did your team lose at Blaseball again?¡± She asked with a pitying gaze. ¡°First of all, *my* team has ascended to the big leagues. Second of all, Blaseball has been on break for a while now.¡± James told her. ¡°And while I would really, really like to tell you all about that¡­¡± ¡°No! My hubris!¡± Sarah exclaimed ¡°...I don¡¯t have time.¡± James said. ¡°Because we are doing interviews today, and I¡¯m too buried in resumes to look over before then to talk about how a giant squid ate a god in a simulated baseball game.¡± ¡°Whew. Hubris rewarded.¡± Sarah said. ¡°So, anyone look good?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really know how to read resumes.¡± James admitted. Sarah stepped into his office and dropped into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, pulling the other one over to form a footrest. ¡°You literally have a business degree.¡± She accused him. ¡°How do you not know that? Not that I know anything about it, but it seems pretty straightforward, and now that I say that, I realize there¡¯s probably hidden depths?¡± ¡°It¡¯s more like¡­ hm.¡± James considered how to phrase what he was thinking. ¡°It¡¯s more like people *do* have hidden depths, and they don¡¯t write them on a resume. Also our resumes this time aren¡¯t the same as we¡¯d get if we were hiring for a normal job, because we actually attempted to do real recruiting, so half of these people are friends or contacts that Order members let in on some of the mystery ahead of time.¡± ¡°And that confuses you.¡± Sarah deduced slyly, rubbing at her chin. ¡°No, that¡­ okay, yes? It confuses things in general. I guess I¡¯m assuming that people are lying on their resumes as a matter of course.¡± James shrugged as he flipped open one of the folders. ¡°Like, look at this guy. This guy has multiple glowing personal and academic references, plays lacrosse, has a job as a baker, puts in volunteer hours at a public park, and¡­ and¡­¡±. James slumped forward with his head in his hands. ¡°And¡­¡± Sarah looked at her best friend, and saw the nervous twitch in his eyes. The way he seemed to shrink down a bit as he was reading the paperwork in front of him. ¡°And. Ah. You think these people are too good for us.¡± She said. ¡°I know they are.¡± James said flatly. ¡°Even the kids, though I¡¯m reading between the lines on them and adding ¡®survived¡¯ to their resumes.¡± ¡°The high schoolers are still pestering you?¡± She asked with a smile. He snorted, but there was no malice to it. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re going to *try* a few of them as interns. But *not* on delves.¡± ¡°Well duh.¡± ¡°Oh, you say duh, but you tell me what high school us would have instantly tried to sneak into.¡± ¡°Delves.¡± Sarah said without hesitation. ¡°So we need to prepare for that.¡± ¡°We could just not take on interns?¡± Sarah suggested. ¡°Like, we don¡¯t owe them anything. I know that sounds mean, but you saved their lives. That doesn¡¯t¡­ make them¡­ part of¡­¡± She sat up, propping her elbows onto the desk and making direct eye contact with James. ¡°Are you collecting people you¡¯ve saved?¡± She demanded. ¡°You are! I didn¡¯t even think of this! Ninety percent of the Order is people you¡¯ve rescued!¡± James looked at her with laughter in his eyes. ¡°Did you only just notice this? Yeah, I¡¯m taking my recruitment strategy from anime.¡± He admitted. ¡°But also we seriously are hiring new people too. Which has a decent track record, too.¡± ¡°Two of the three people you¡¯ve ever hired...¡± Sarah didn¡¯t finish the sentence. ¡°Everyone forgets that I hired other people, and they just regular quit.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Anyway. Do you want to do interviews with me? It¡¯d be nice to have a second perspective.¡± Sarah eyed him warily. ¡°You seem kind of exhausted today. Are you okay? I distinctly remember you being excited about this last time, what happened?¡± ¡°People keep dying.¡± James stated. ¡°And I know, we¡¯re all coping with it more or less. But I¡¯m terrified that anyone I hire might die, when they wouldn¡¯t have otherwise.¡± ¡°Yeeeeah¡­¡± Sarah started, ¡°buuuut, they also might save people that they otherwise wouldn¡¯t. You can¡¯t know, but you can give them a chance.¡± James pushed himself off his desk, and brushed the papers stuck to his elbows off. ¡°That makes too much sense.¡± He said. ¡°Which means I probably need coffee. Oh, shit, I should use the wisdom coffee before this.¡± He thwapped a fist into an open palm as he made the connection. ¡°We need to remember to use that stuff more often.¡± ¡°I one million percent assumed you just drank that by the gallon every day.¡± ¡°Hush.¡± James told his friend. ¡°Let¡¯s go find coffee and also Anesh. He should be part of this.¡± ¡°He¡¯s down in the refurbished research relabratory.¡± Sarah said, pushing her chair back and moving to hustle after James as he strode out and through the short hall of their commandeered office space. ¡°Also he told me not to tell you that, because he doesn¡¯t want to interview people, and that you should just make all the choices yourself.¡± ¡°God dammit.¡± James muttered. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t he have anxieties that don¡¯t compliment mine? This is¡­ oh. Karen.¡± He let his complaining lapse and greeted the woman in the sharp-lined blouse who stepped out of her own office to face the duo as they walked. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t hire my daughter.¡± The request, which was not framed as a request, came out in blunt words. Karen was their¡­ something. She most likely saw herself as the moral compass of the Order, guiding them to be non-disruptive of the wider world, while still holding to an attitude of harsh personal responsibility. As far as James was concerned, she was a bit of a jerk, with all the good points that she made - and she *did* make good points regularly - tied up in a philosophy of a selfish and unfair universe. She reminded him a lot of his mother. He didn¡¯t hold it against her, though; not too much anyway. Karen had been having a hard time, and the fact that her kid had nearly died on James¡¯ watch was something that he felt okay letting her be a bit pissed about. That said¡­ ¡°Absolutely not.¡± James said, nodding once. ¡°Good.¡± Karen replied, her small and serious frown softening just a hair. ¡°Now. I have a report for you.¡± She handed him a printout that James stacked on top of his pile of folders and glanced at. It was a list of addresses. ¡°First of all, we have a group chat exactly so you can send me stuff like this. Stop killing so many trees, and also our printer ink budget. Second of all, what¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Six places where someone has done something unreasonably heroic in the last two months and made it into the news.¡± Karen told him. ¡°Prioritizing the top two, which list an ¡®unidentified woman¡¯ as the person in question.¡± She tapped a scarred finger onto the page, tilting James¡¯ pile of documents. ¡°And I did send it over our group server, to the recovery channel. Anesh said I should print it out because you respond well to drama.¡± ¡°Harsh but fair.¡± James muttered, as his brain caught up with what he¡¯d been handed. Months ago, during the fight where Karen¡¯s daughter had nearly been gunned down, James and Anesh¡¯s partner had been lost. Not dead-lost, but literally lost. They¡¯d teleported her away to safety, and had no clue where she¡¯d gone. Testing with the telepads showed that they really didn¡¯t seem capable of telefragging anyone, which was *good*, because it meant that Alanna was almost certainly alive. Or at least, not dead because of *that*. But she hadn¡¯t contacted them, and the Order didn¡¯t have a global intelligence network to draw on to find one lost girl. But they did have internet access, and a vested interest in their people. This was what Karen did. Her and her team. They followed threads, navigated information craters, and looked for the lost. They helped those impacted by the dungeons get back on their feet, helped families and friends reconnect unobtrusively, and put lives back together. Recovery. It was a good moniker. It was also why James was willing to cut her a lot of slack for being kind of a jerk sometimes. He was still staring at the page she¡¯d handed him when he and Sarah stepped into the elevator. Sarah, reading the feeling of quiet despair that was coming off of James, casually draped an arm over his shoulder. She moved easily; the benefits of a magical bonus to ¡®health¡¯ having let her heal through a broken neck and bullet wounds perhaps a little easier than she should have. James twitched slightly at the touch, but she didn¡¯t take offense to that; he¡¯d always been a little awkward about it, and the distance between the two of them had grown when she and her memory had been taken prisoner. ¡°So!¡± Sarah said, verbally stabbing the gloomy mood. ¡°I notice that what you said to Karen could, in some ways, mean *exactly the thing she didn¡¯t want*. What¡¯s up with that?¡± ¡°Surprisingly nothing.¡± James cracked a smile. ¡°It turns out, not everyone we save is willing to instantly sign up to throw themselves into death and glory.¡± ¡°Go figure.¡± ¡°Also I think Momo intercepted Liz¡¯s application, so she¡¯s not here today.¡± ¡°This place, I swear.¡± Sarah pretended to roll her eyes as the elevator descended a thousand miles north. _____ There was a *snap* in the damp air as the trigger on the taser was pulled. Two prongs flung themselves forward, connected with Alanna¡¯s raised bare arm, and¡­ bounced off. Her skin didn¡¯t rupture. Not easily, anyway. The taser would have more luck getting stuck in the sheen of sweat covering her body than actually embedding itself in her flesh. It was *December*, for fucks sake. Why was it so hot? Hot to the point that, even though she could feel her physical self rejecting the reality of the temperature, she was still moist and uncomfortable. Of course, she was in Florida. Alanna was missing a lot of her memories, but she still had a seemingly endless list of complaints about Florida. Gators. Drug dealers. Swamps. Humidity. Humidity in swamps. *Retirees*. She had a brief memory of watching a Buggs Bunny cartoon with one of her sisters where the rabbit had sawed through the border of Florida and let the whole thing drift out to sea; it warmed her heart. Also, she realized with a start, she had a sister. Had had a sister; at least one. Did she still? The thought was interrupted as someone grabbed her arm and tried to twist her shoulder out of its socket. Oh, right. Someone was trying to kill her. Alanna let her arm move as if she were being effectively forced out of position, and as soon as her main assailant stepped behind her to let his buddy approach her from the front with a gun drawn, Alanna jerked a leg out in a sharp kick and crushed the guy¡¯s hand. The gun didn¡¯t drop, but he did start screaming something at her; a command to give up that she ignored as she caught him by the wrist with her free hand, and *hauled* with all the power her clearly inhuman muscles could bring to bear. The two men slammed into each other, neither expecting a girl in her late twenties to be able to fling them around like toys, no matter how physically strong she actually looked. And one of them stayed down as their heads slammed together, something rattled in his skull enough that he was at least temporarily unconscious. The other one tried to get up, reaching for his own gun with a slurred order to Alanna to stop fighting. She kicked him in the head, twice, and he either gave up the fight, blacked out, or died. She wasn¡¯t sure which, though she hoped it was the middle one. Either way, the superpower that she had that let her tell how people were feeling currently read both of the thugs as blank, so they¡¯d either become emotionless blocks in the last fifteen seconds, or they were out. ¡°Come on.¡± Alanna said as she turned toward the sidewalk behind her. Cracked cement and scraggly weeds under a burning sun, the sidewalk ran through a depressingly run down neighborhood near where Alanna was sharing a house with six other people who were all struggling to afford rent. This sidewalk in particular was currently decorated with a fallen bicycle, and a fallen teenager, and it was the second one that Alanna extended a hand to. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta run before they wake up.¡± She told him, bluntly. ¡°Holy shit!¡± The kid stared at her wide eyed, scrambling to his feet and ignoring her offered hand. ¡°What the fuck are you doing!?¡± Alanna glanced at the two adult men laying sprawled on the hot pavement. The kid was right, she couldn¡¯t just leave them armed; if they woke up too soon, they¡¯d start shooting. So she crouched down and grabbed the one gun from where it¡¯d fallen, made sure the safety was on and checked the magazine with a smooth motion that she *must* have practiced before. And then unclipped the holster of the other man and took his gun too. She pocketed both of them, sliding them into the spacious leg pockets of the cargo shorts she was wearing. ¡°Okay, *now* we should run.¡± She said. The kid looked at her like she was insane, which was fair. But he grabbed his bike and followed her when she started jogging. The trick, Alanna figured, would be to get around at least a couple corners. And then, if they weren¡¯t being followed or watched, she could just make a straight line in some direction, and rent a new place somewhere else. All her cash was on her person, and the three possessions she¡¯d managed to amass weren¡¯t worth writing home about. Not that writing home was an option for her. She still wasn¡¯t sure if her home was even Earth. It¡¯d been a weird couple months. ¡°You fuckin¡¯ killed em!¡± The kid panted as he kept pace with her, now pedaling his beat up mountain bike in the street while Alanna took them down the winding side roads of suburban decay. ¡°Fucking psycho!¡± ¡°You¡¯re still following me though.¡± Alanna wasn¡¯t even close to out of breath. ¡°And they were going to kill you.¡± The statement did not ask for argument, and had the conviction of true belief behind it. Because it was true. She knew it, in her bones. Like she knew how to breathe, or how to walk; she¡¯d glanced into their eyes and seen a hatred like no other. A desire to hurt, to break, to kill. No matter the reason they¡¯d directed it at the young man next to her, Alanna had known, in an instant, that as soon as she¡¯d made it out of eyesight, he¡¯d have been dead. She had no idea how her power worked, and it was one of many small things, but it was a critical one. Alanna didn¡¯t have to spend more than a second on someone to know not just how they felt, but also somewhat how those feelings were going to manifest as action. And this time, it had been unacceptable. So she¡¯d intervened. It wasn¡¯t the first time, it wouldn¡¯t be the last. She¡¯d gotten good at moving in a hurry, and finding new places that were willing to give her a couch or a small room in exchange for a few hundred bucks and zero questions. At least this time, she¡¯d come out with the spoils of war, and was now two guns richer. She would have taken the car, too, but she was willing to bet there was a tracker of some kind. And it was pretty fucking conspicuous too. Cop cars tended to draw attention. Six blocks later, Alanna parted ways from the kid when she was confident that they didn¡¯t have direct pursuit. He¡¯d have nightmares for weeks. She¡¯d have nightmares too, but only the normal ones that she¡¯d been dealing with already. For some reason, life or death fights seemed comfortably welcoming to her. Alanna wasn¡¯t used to her life yet. Maybe she never had been. But she had a memory now, snatched from the fray of combat. She¡¯d had a sister, and a home. Worn carpet, a green couch with cat scratches in it. The cold. It had been cold. It hadn¡¯t been here. Somewhere north, maybe. She wrote it in the other possession she kept on her. A notepad, with fragments of dreams and thoughts and remembrances covering its pages. The act of using the notepad also felt familiar. She¡¯d marked that in the first page. Maybe someday it would help her home. For now, though, she needed a new place to stay. Alanna started jogging toward the town square and the local library. Sometimes, the lack of a shutdown here was useful, and the free internet access would help her out. Also she could wear a mask and it didn¡¯t look like she was hiding from the police. Just another day. _____ They came into the Lair, and reality broke around them. It was¡­ easy to forget. No, that wasn¡¯t the right way to say it. It was *fun* to forget. When you¡¯d already had your expectations crushed, when you lived on the edge of what was normal, when you didn¡¯t know what was out there and that shrouded mystery was part of your day to day assumptions. It was fun to pretend that your way of life was the only one there was. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. James had experienced this kind of thing before, actually. When you had a friend group and general social circle that was either progressive, or at least ambivalent about it like JP was, you could sort of start to feel like everyone was cool about a lot of things. And then you ran into someone at a coffee shop or a family dinner who was both loud and biogted in equal measure, and you got this reminder that people sucked sometimes. When members of the Order went outside now, they had to contend with that. They had to remember that most people didn¡¯t fight monsters, didn¡¯t teleport into burning buildings, didn¡¯t hang out with biomechanical snakes. Only *now*, the tables had turned. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ uh¡­¡± The young man, pale and freckled, wearing a button up shirt he was clearly uncomfortable in and a mask he didn¡¯t mind, and carrying a folded paper in a sweating hand, addressed the camraconda that greeted him past the secure doors. ¡°I¡¯m here for an interview?¡± His voice squeaked a little. ¡°Yes. Good. On time.¡± The camraconda said, nodding. It hadn¡¯t picked a name yet, but it had gotten a coat made, and felt like the heavy leather covering its cables made it much more secure when talking to new humans. ¡°Back hallway. Left. You will find them.¡± It told the newcomer. ¡°Uh¡­! Okay, thanks!¡± The human *scampered*. It was the only word the camraconda could think of for it. It shook its head, a gesture it quite liked that it had stolen from the other Order members. The new humans who had been coming in were¡­ skittish. It was only funny the first three times. And just like that, reality was gone. It had started small. The offer to apply had come to him in an email from a professor at his college. ¡°They¡¯re looking for smart people. Kind people.¡± The prof had said. ¡°You should apply.¡± The old man had told him. His granddaughter had asked him to point people that he noticed in their direction, apparently, which was suspicious on its own. But hey, even though it was 2020, sometimes companies still reached out for internships, right? That wasn¡¯t too bad. Then there¡¯d been the application, and it had gotten slightly weirder. He¡¯d put in a lot of job applications, sent a lot of resumes during his time at college, and none of them had been like this. There was exactly one question on skills, which simply read, ¡®what can you do?¡¯. Nothing else. Every other question was¡­ creative. Ethics. Hypotheticals. Stuff out of science fiction. ¡®What would you add to a first contact situation?¡¯ ¡®What options does humanity have to survive an out of context threat?¡¯ ¡®Would you be willing to work with other species?¡¯ Even that wasn¡¯t enough to put him off. It was clearly a company run by nerds, and he *was* a compsci major. So, he¡¯d taken the time and sent off his answers, because the questions were *interesting* if nothing else. And they¡¯d offered an interview. And he¡¯d tried to show up early, and found that he couldn¡¯t find the building. He literally missed his exit, on a highway he¡¯d driven a hundred times. He¡¯d taken wrong turns, circled blocks, hit *every* red light. And then, parked on the side of the street, trying desperately to check the address in his phone as his email failed to load, he¡¯d realized he had only a minute or two to get where he was going or be late to the first job interview he¡¯d had in months. And then, the address had loaded properly, and he¡¯d realized with a start that he was literally curbside of the parking lot he needed to be in. Then he¡¯d stepped through obviously armored doors, past a highly paranoid security system, and talked to a snake that moved like a living thing but was made of cords. And suddenly, a lot of weird things didn¡¯t seem like one-off strangeness anymore, but part of a daily life reality that *actually existed*. There *were* other life forms, there *were* strange reality bubbles and impossible technologies. And now¡­ Now he had to sit at a table with three other people, while a guy wearing a tee shirt bearing a picture of a goose holding a knife asked them casual questions, while they waited for the last member of this group interview. And while several of the snakes - *camracondas*, someone called them - a couple tables over spoke to a guy who had an orange wraith of energy moving along with his skin. And while a drone shaped like a mantis took multiple trips into the kitchen to carry out packages that it took from a mountain of a man and ferried to the elevator. And while someone in body armor came out of a back room, trading places with someone else that was going in, and both of them seemed totally casual about it. ¡°I have a question.¡± He said, mouth dry. ¡°Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry I figured we¡¯d wait for the last person for questions, but they seem like they¡¯re actually just not coming or are super late. So yes, one question before we get started.¡± James told him, seemingly unaffected by the crushing pressure applied to the normal world of his candidates. The young man composed himself, and then asked the one thing that he couldn¡¯t get out of his head, for the twenty minutes that he¡¯d been quietly sitting here with his nerves screaming at him, waiting for the actual interview to begin. ¡°Where is that couch?¡± He asked, twisting a bit to point down the hall that they¡¯d come into the dining area through. ¡°Because it shouldn¡¯t be anywhere, and I looked through the kitchen doors and there¡¯s no alcove in there.¡± It occurred to him that maybe he either shouldn¡¯t have done that, or shouldn¡¯t have admitted it. The other candidates turned almost as a single unit, pursed lips and narrowed eyes staring at the impossible furniture. ¡°Ah!¡± James *grinned* at them, and it was the grin of someone who knew far more than they were spelling out. ¡°Now *that*, is actually a very good question.¡± His interviewer made a *note* in one of the pile of manilla folders he¡¯d stacked on his side of the table, and pointedly did not answer the question. Then he looked back up at the group. ¡°So. Welcome to the Order of Endless Rooms. Magic is real, we have some of it, the world has some serious problems both arcane and otherwise, and we¡¯re looking for people who are more interested in being adaptable and kind over people who have any particular skills. That said, all of you have the mindset that makes you excellent engineers, which is valuable. We also offer a generous salary, because we cannot offer health insurance beyond ¡®we know a guy¡¯.¡± James looked at the four assembled candidates, each in turn, and then nodded when none of them argued with him. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m going to go grab a drink. You have until I get back to decide amongst yourselves if you¡¯re interested in the position, and come up with a list of questions. You can ask three things, but only the ones you all agree on.¡± He stood up, and walked off, pushing his way through the swinging double doors of the kitchen. And leaving behind four people who shared a look of raised eyebrows and slightly open mouths. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ hi, I¡¯m Chevoy¡­¡± the one woman in the group introduced herself. ¡°...that¡¯s obviously a test, right?¡± ¡°Kirk. Has to be.¡± One of the other candidates introduced themselves. ¡°I¡¯m out.¡± The third one said, without preamble. ¡°This is stupid. Probably some dumb practical joke. Also no one here is wearing masks, so they¡¯re probably some idiot cult.¡± He stood up, and just walked off, pushing past a camraconda in a way that probably didn¡¯t scan as rude if he didn¡¯t think they were actual people. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ uh¡­ I¡¯m Mars.¡± The newest arrival said, still trying to compose himself and curiously watching the last guy walk away. ¡°Is he serious?¡± He pointed after their fleeing peer. Kirk shrugged. He was a big guy, so a little shrug had a lot of shoulder to work with. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s afraid? I¡¯m kinda nervous about this whole thing. But¡­ you know.¡± He grinned sheepishly at the other two. ¡°But nonhuman life!¡± Chevoy exclaimed, the raven-haired girl leaning in to whisper conspiratorially with the other two. ¡°This is so cool! Also, we need to figure out what we¡¯re asking.¡± ¡°You said it was a test?¡± Mars said. ¡°I don¡¯t think it actually is. At least, not intentionally. The guy¡­ James?... he seems kinda distracted. I think he seriously just has time for a few questions.¡± ¡°Do you wanna ask him if that¡¯s true and use up one of our questions?¡± ¡°Uh, no?¡± Mars didn¡¯t mean for it to sound condescending, but he feared he didn¡¯t get it quite right. ¡°That would be¡­ oh, I get it. Okay. So, what¡¯s important?¡± The three of them put their heads together, talking in rapid whispers, quickly building a profile of each other and what they figured would be the most relevant things to ask about. All of them were technologically minded, in some way, they quickly figured out. It made sense, their interviewer had said they had ¡®engineer mindsets¡¯. But their actual fields were a little eclectic. Computer science, electrical journeyman, and civil engineer respectively. But their limited time ran out quickly, and as James came back, they were left with what they hoped were the more important things they needed to ask today. ¡°Is this some kind of global conspiracy?¡± was the first one. James rolled his eyes. ¡°You know, there¡¯s actually a section in our operations manual titled ¡®We Are Not A Conspiracy¡¯? No, we have no interest in keeping things overly secret. That said, obscurity does give us a certain amount of protection, and we don¡¯t go posting our exploits on Reddit or anything. I guess the best way to frame it would be as ¡®we will probably answer questions, but you have to ask them first¡¯, if that makes sense.¡± James sipped at the juice he¡¯d brought back with him, then made a small ¡®mm¡¯ noise. ¡°Oh, and we aren¡¯t global. Yet. We exist here and almost nowhere else. We¡¯re more underdog than megacorp.¡± ¡°What do you want from us? Or I guess, ¡®why us¡¯?¡± Chevoy voiced that question. ¡°Because you fit what we want.¡± James said. ¡°You¡¯re outspoken, want to build better things, improve the world, and you¡¯ve got people who vouch for your character. You¡¯re not experts, but that¡¯s okay, because neither are we. Yet.¡± He looked around at the other members of the Order moving through the space. ¡°If you¡¯re asking if you¡¯re special, though, then I¡¯ve gotta say ¡®no¡¯. There¡¯s no destiny that we can measure, you¡¯re not secretly the chosen ones. But none of us are, so, eh?¡± He looked down at the folder that held their resumes. ¡°As for what we specifically want from you, our current focus is on either the design and construction of an arcology, or the implementation of security features for a mind-machine interface. That second one is mostly for you,¡± he pointed at Mars, ¡°because the other guy in this interview left, and we don¡¯t have anyone here working on that anymore. The arcology thing is new.¡± ¡°Oh man, I really want to ask a whole lot of different questions now.¡± Kirk griped. ¡°But you brought up something and we all agreed on it, so, what¡¯s going to happen to the guy that left?¡± ¡°What? Um¡­ we won¡¯t hire him?¡± James looked kind of dismissive, until his eyes widened and he let out a long ¡®oooooooh¡¯. ¡°I get it. No, he¡¯s fine. We aren¡¯t going to kill him or wipe his memory or anything. Honestly, we don¡¯t really have to. Some people just kind of can¡¯t accept magic. Shockingly, it¡¯s not the majority of the population, which a lifetime of urban fantasy novels conditioned me to believe. And besides, our building is cloaked. So he¡¯ll leave, roll his eyes, and move on with his life, and that¡¯s kind of it.¡± ¡°No one¡¯s going to try to kill him for knowing too much?¡± Mars found himself asking. Internally, he winced as he went over the three question limit, but James didn¡¯t seem to notice or care. ¡°Who? As far as we know, we¡¯re the last ones left in this part of the world. Not that our intelligence network is what I¡¯d call ¡®operational¡¯. And it¡¯s not like the government knows anything about all this. Our last FBI guy was actually like our absent friend here. We think government work might collect people like that.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going to make us fight each other for the interview, are you?¡± Chevoy accused him again. ¡°This is feeling like that kind of thing.¡± Mars blinked. Again? Why did he have such a strong sense of deja vu all of a sudden? Kirk was looking confused too, maybe because the people in the room around them weren¡¯t quite where he remembered them being, but their interviewer just had the same calm look on his face. ¡°No. We already did the interview.¡± James said. ¡°And you ask that *every time*.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a reasonable¡­ wait, what?¡± The optimistic look on the girl¡¯s face faltered. ¡°Every time?¡± ¡°He said they don¡¯t ¡®have to¡¯ mind wipe people.¡± Mars found his mouth moving without his permission again, but he was committed now, so he pressed on. ¡°That implies they *can*. He¡¯s got a different drink than we started with and there¡¯s a stapler on the table now for some reason. There¡¯s different people here. If we check our phones, it¡¯s going to be an hour later than we think. He knew the answers to our questions.¡± He looked at James. ¡°Is *this* the test?¡± ¡°It¡¯s one of them.¡± James said. ¡°Planner, you can go back to what you were doing,¡± he spoke to the air, ¡°we¡¯re good here.¡± He looked back at the three. ¡°Commendable. You noticed it a lot faster than the group yesterday. And your questions weren¡¯t always the same, by the way. Free will is real. Also you¡¯re all welcome here, if you want it.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Three voices barked out at roughly the same time. ¡°Alright.¡± James grinned. ¡°Rufus will show you to the basement. The Research division will have introduction packages for you. Welcome to the Order.¡± He stood up, snapping his coat around him as he turned to leave. ¡°Be good, recklessly.¡± Was the last thing he said as he walked off. A minute after he¡¯d left, Kirk leaned over to Mars and whispered, ¡°Do you know who Rufus is?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll bet you a dollar it¡¯s the stapler.¡± Chevoy said. The two boys glanced over at her with incredulous looks. Then the stapler stood up, and she laughed while they scrambled backward. _____ ¡°I¡¯m starting to think Virgil actually made this thing.¡± A member of the Research team was complaining to Reed while the young man was trying to solder one last thing together. ¡°How?¡± He asked, his heart not really in the question. ¡°I don¡¯t know, science magic? I don¡¯t understand what powers people who level up in computer science get.¡± Nikhail grumbled from where he was sitting at a desk across the room, playing with the file on the disc that Virgil had left them. It gave a percentage in venom resistance to whoever ran it. Sort of. They didn¡¯t know where it had come from. ¡°I know for a fact you have programming Ranks.¡± Reed countered, still mostly focused on his work. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean I know what I¡¯m doing.¡± Momo jumped into the conversation. ¡°It does! That is literally what the yellows do!¡± She exclaimed, before Reed cut her off with a click of his tongue and the soldering iron off with the click of a button. ¡°Here.¡± Momo reached out and accepted the pair of glasses being handed to her by Reed. ¡°They¡¯re not perfect, but Nik got the right side of them to line up enough that they work.¡± ¡®Pair of glasses¡¯ was perhaps a generous term for the amalgamation of nonsense she¡¯d just been passed. The base frame were wide framed sunglasses. Onto that, six different lenses had been affixed to the left eye; some of them with tape, some with tiny screws and clamps, one with glue. On the side there was a little swivel clamp that held a pager in place where it could be pulled in front of the eye when needed. The right bar had a pair of headphones coiled around it, which were then taped down to the single lens that had been added to that side. There was a pen rubber banded to it. It was a hot mess, and Momo kind of hated it. It was also one of their more powerful research tools right now, which was *embarrassing*. She wanted to be a proper witch, with rituals and cool crystal things and the whole *aesthetic*, and these dumbasses were over here being engineers and just handing her things that worked and looked like crap. It wasn¡¯t fair. The sunglasses protected vision. That was their magical effect, as well as their normal one. Your eyes couldn¡¯t get hurt while you wore them. Which was important, because of what the other stuff did. They¡¯d figured out the trick to not breaking blue objects recently, and had used that to add some of their perception enhancers to these; when you wore this, you could see in infrared and microwave. You could tell if the thing you were looking at was a person, or could become a person, and how that person felt about a half dozen things. You could read any text from twenty meters away. Most importantly, it could see the cracks. They¡¯d needed something like this. A way to more easily detect the craters in reality where an infomorph or an authority had torn out information, had blanked a person. And finally, they had a version that worked¡­ well enough. Momo got to use it, because either she was becoming resistant to brain damage, or she¡¯d already hurt herself in the ways that mattered. Everyone else *could* use it, in theory, but if they actually saw a crack, it hurt. Not the *eyes*, obviously, that was what the sunglasses were there for. But it still hurt. ¡°Thanks.¡± She said, as she held the monstrosity. ¡°Ready for the last test?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Reed had a grim look on his face. ¡°And then, we need to get rid of it. Before James or Sarah find out and get pissed at us.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll understand.¡± Momo halfheartedly insisted. ¡°Besides. We need to know what we did.¡± She followed Reed through the basement hallways, past the garden that a green orb had added, around a corner that led to a dead end that no one used the rooms in for anything but storage. This was where they¡¯d originally piled everything that had spawned with the basement, with both basements. Though an aggressive picking over by Research for anything useful, as well as using a lot of the blankets and furniture to stock the bedrooms down here, had cut down on the clutter a bit. Now, the last door on the left led to a room that contained two things. The door itself was one of the more locked portals in the entire building, which is to say, it had two locks for two keys. It wasn¡¯t magical, just something no one could stumble into. Reed and Momo had the only way in, and only if it was both of them. The two things in the room were a freezer, with a corpse in it, and a small tessellated hexagonal object with a pile of ID cards around it on the table. There was nothing else, just that. Momo slipped the ¡®glasses¡¯ on while Reed shut the door behind them. The corpse was named Marion. It wasn¡¯t a person. It wasn¡¯t alive. She¡¯d been dead for ninety four days. She had liked dogs more than people, prioritized gun ownership when she voted, and had no current long term plans. Her favorite color was orange, and her current wealth was a solid $0. She was affiliated with - - Momo was looking up at the ceiling while Reed yelled something in panic. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± She lied, sitting up. ¡°Ow. What happened?¡± ¡°You started transcribing notes, then just collapsed.¡± Reed told her, the kid¡­ fuck, they were the same age. Why did she keep thinking of him as a kid? Did he do the same thing? Not important right now. ¡°What notes?¡± Momo asked. Reed handed her a piece of receipt paper, the kind that manifested when you printed stuff off through the pager. ¡°Affiliated, Status Quo. Okay, we knew that, but it¡¯s weird that *we* can remember they exist when the *rest of the universe* can¡¯t.¡± Momo muttered. ¡°Oh, there¡¯s more. Some stuff about her driver¡¯s license, and then¡­ killed by, Secret.¡± She looked at it in annoyance. Reed echoed her thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s kind of irritating that we put this much effort and headache into this stupid thing just to be told that it¡¯s a secret.¡± He said. ¡°We¡­ we know that. We know! That¡¯s the problem! We don¡¯t know what we did!¡± ¡°Ugh.¡± Momo lowered herself back to the concrete floor. ¡°Well, fuck it. Help me up. I need water, and maybe medical attention.¡± She held up a hand and waited listlessly for Reed to stand up and pull her with him. ¡°I think we should get rid of the corpse.¡± He told her. ¡°We¡¯re not going to learn anything more out of this, and it really isn¡¯t a good idea to hang onto bodies like this. Camraconda religion excepting.¡± Reed added with a tip of his head at the end. ¡°Okay.¡± Momo¡¯s head hurt too much to argue. It was a throbbing pain that swelled behind the bridge of her nose. She felt like if she tried to laugh too hard, her skull would split in half. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Pendragon. We can take a trip to the coast and dump Marion here in the ocean.¡± Reed looked at her as he locked his side of the door once they were out in the hallway. Momo wasn¡¯t paying attention to anything, just staring down the concrete tunnel with an idle look on her face. ¡°Do you ever worry that we might be exactly the kind of problem Status Quo was trying to fight?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Momo sighed. ¡°But fuck them. None of this had to happen. James offered them an out.¡± ¡°As far as we know.¡± ¡°Eh. I¡¯d try to imagine James playing us like that, but I¡¯m not seeing it. Oh, maybe that means he¡¯s *really good* at lying¡­¡± Momo trailed off. Reed ran a hand through his hair, curls bobbing in the still air of the basement. ¡°I just feel a little awkward dumping corpses in the ocean.¡± He admitted. ¡°It seems like a ¡®bad guy¡¯ thing to do.¡± ¡°Well what are we supposed to do? Go to a funeral home an be all ¡®hey I found this body!¡¯ at them?¡± Momo groaned as she tried to huff out a laugh and instead saw painful stars in her vision. ¡°Okay, enough of this. Painkillers now. Ethics later. And if James sends us more new hires today, I am going to yell at him. Or send you to do it for me.¡± ¡°Yeah, good luck with that.¡± Reed said, offering her an arm and helping Momo down the hall. _____ ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m the right person for this.¡± The words came from a middle aged woman sitting uncomfortably across the desk from James. They were in his actual office for this interview, because he¡¯d needed more than anything to gauge her reaction to setting changes. And nothing really said ¡®setting change¡¯ like going up in an elevator from a single story building to find yourself in a skyscraper. The woman, whose name was Nancy, was someone who was best described as ¡®showing signs of a life lived¡¯. She had rough hands with a couple fingers that were a little misshapen from where they¡¯d been broken and reset. Her voice was steady, and she smiled easily, but there were a couple of lines on her face that were scars mixed in among the forming wrinkles. She wore her hair short, and her clothing with lots of pockets. She¡¯d also been staring out the window at the skyline and highways below when James had come out of his office to greet her. ¡°Why not?¡± James asked. Internally, he wondered why it was that half his interviews over the last three days had been people trying to convince him *not* to hire them. He¡¯d eventually brought all of those people on board. ¡°Because I¡¯m a¡­ I¡¯m not¡­ this.¡± Nancy spread her arms out to indicate the office as a whole. ¡°I think you think I¡¯m something I¡¯m not.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± James prompted, trying to see if she¡¯d give a direct answer. ¡°Powerful?¡± The woman questioningly replied. ¡°Magical, maybe? I don¡¯t know what you want from me.¡± She sounded *scared*. And in that moment, James realized he¡¯d made a mistake, in pushing someone just a little too far beyond the boundaries of their reality. He¡¯d forgotten something himself; that humans sucked sometimes. That not everyone would take him at face value, or assume he wasn¡¯t being malicious. ¡°Okay, first off.¡± James calmly raised a finger. ¡°We aren¡¯t exactly looking for soldiers. Which is good, because I¡¯ve seen your resume.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t fight anything for you.¡± The woman seemed suddenly defiant. ¡°Again, good.¡± James told her. ¡°Look, we¡¯re trying to recruit people who have some specific skills, and you fit the bill. This whole¡­ thing¡­ is mostly just to show you that what we¡¯re doing is weird. But I promise we¡¯re not trying to take over the world, or form an evil cult or anything.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a preschool teacher.¡± The woman, Nancy, protested. ¡°What possible skills could I have that you need? Unless¡­ do you have children of wizards you need raised? I don¡¯t know how I feel about that.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a *great* line of thought. Good adaptability.¡± James made a checkmark in his folder. ¡°Also no, but also yes. Kind of. Okay. Here¡¯s the deal.¡± He took a breath. Trusting people like this was a risk; there was a pretty low ceiling to how much Planner and Pathfinder could manipulate memories, and there was a very real chance that anyone who didn¡¯t like what they were doing could bring down a police investigation, or just plain old angry mob on their heads. ¡°There are place in the world that aren¡¯t normal.¡± James explained. ¡°Where the space doesn¡¯t fit where it¡¯s supposed to be, where there are dangers and treasures to be explored. And those spaces are alive.¡± He made eye contact to make sure the woman was following along. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the camracondas on the way in; they¡¯re from a place like that. But they¡¯re still *people*, okay?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± She answered quickly. It had been strange, being greeted by a snake thing with a security camera for a face, but it had been very polite to her. Good manners were *very* important. ¡°Great. So, we have knowledge of a number of those places. Relevant Spaces, someone started calling them. And access to a few of them, as well. But one of them is¡­ new.¡± James was trying to figure out how to explain dungeons to someone that didn¡¯t have that context for them. Nancy caught on to an important word. ¡°It¡¯s new. And you control it? That¡¯s why I¡¯m here?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t control it, no. We¡¯ve been inside it. We spend time there. We¡¯re trying to¡­ I mean, the easiest way to frame it is just that we¡¯re trying to raise it to be a good person. But none of us are actually parents or teachers, so we¡¯re kind of lost here. No one knows what we should be doing, or even how to gain a foothold to learn what we need to learn.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m¡­ you actually meant to put out a job offer for a teacher.¡± She made the connection. James nodded, idly moving a pencil around his desk. ¡°Specifically someone with experience with young children. Because, as far as we know, that¡¯s what Ascent is.¡± ¡°Ascent?¡± ¡°The place. It¡¯s¡­ an attic. It likes sunsets. It hasn¡¯t tried to kill us. It¡¯s a kid.¡± James found he suddenly didn¡¯t have the right words for this. ¡°I should have brought Sarah into this.¡± He mumbled to himself. ¡°And you really think I can do something about it?¡± Nancy was suspicious. ¡°Like what? Raise it to do what you want? You said they make rewards, do you just want to exploit it?¡± ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure.¡± James admitted. ¡°There¡¯s a part of my brain that would like to say ¡®yup!¡¯ and just start raking in the superpowers. But this is the first one of these places that¡¯s acted at all¡­ like a person. And not like a deathtrap. And, well, we have a policy for dealing with people here at the Order.¡± Nancy narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± Her voice was still hard, but there was more curiosity in it than before. ¡°Be kind to them.¡± James said. ¡°And hold off on the shooting until we absolutely have to.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take the job.¡± Nancy decided suddenly. ¡°Would you like to do the interview process first?¡± James asked with a laughing smile. ¡°The part where I ask you questions, not the other way around.¡± Nancy flushed bright red, the first actual uncertain reaction that James had seen from her aside from the initial trepidation. ¡°Oh.¡± She said. ¡°Well, get on with it.¡± He¡¯d probably hire her anyway. Between her and the young man with years of experience as a babysitter, they¡¯d be a good start to a caretaker team. But still, the *process* was important. James tapped his pencil on the open folder, and started asking questions. _____ Myles went in the front door, shadowing a group of high school age kids. He figured he was close enough to their age that maybe no one would notice that he was out of place. The camraconda was weird to see up close, but he¡¯d scoped enough of them moving around the parking lot that it wasn¡¯t shocking. Also, the building itself had been difficult to see directly, but whatever it was that did that seemed weaker around the asphalt and concrete of the parking lot and sidewalk. So he¡¯d known it was *there*. It wasn¡¯t right. It certainly wasn¡¯t normal. It was something that shouldn¡¯t exist; or maybe it was just something that had always existed, and the normal world politely ignored. Either way, once he¡¯d found it, it had been impossible to ignore. Following the clues to this place had been the work of a month, ever since he¡¯d accidentally stumbled across the first one. It had been something that shouldn¡¯t have existed, and people just¡­ walked by it. But he had to know. So he¡¯d deciphered the hint, and then the next one it led to, and then, content with the fact that he was playing a really cool ARG, he¡¯d called the phone number that had been buried in an ammo can in the parking lot of a Safeway. And been told about this place. Not what it was, or what they did, or anything else. Only that it existed. And Myles just *had* to know what was inside. And now, he was sitting around a table with a bunch of kids who were here for some kind of wizard internship, taking in the nature of this place with a frantic grin. ¡°Alright, so,¡± James was saying to them, ¡°the four of you¡­¡± He blinked, looked around the table. ¡°Hang on.¡± He flipped through the resumes in front of him, complete with the pictures of the assorted students who now shuffled uneasily in their seats. ¡°You¡¯re not one of mine.¡± He said, pointing at Myles. Welp! The game was up. It had been fun to get to see inside this place, but now it was time to flip the chair back, orient toward the exit, and *run*. He should have had more of a plan, going in, besides just knowing the general layout of where the doors were. But he¡¯d just gotten so curious, and acting recklessly had always been one of his strong suits. Myles turned, and ran, and smacked directly into the wall of a human wearing a chef¡¯s apron that had seemingly teleported into his path. ¡°Nah.¡± Said a second man, standing just off to the side. ¡°He¡¯s one of mine.¡± James sighed. ¡°JP, you know you can just *invite people to interviews*, right?¡± ¡°Figuring out where we are and getting in *is* the interview, you cretin.¡± JP shot back. ¡°Come on.¡± He tapped the back of his hand on Myles¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Step into my office. You¡¯ll like my offer way more than the internship one.¡± He leaned in and whispered theatrically, ¡°We are *spies*.¡± ¡°No.¡± Nate said as they turned and led the new kid away. ¡°Don¡¯t bullshit him. We¡¯re¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Spiiiiies?¡± ¡°Fuck off.¡± James watched the two of them walk off, seemingly assuming that the infiltrator would just follow them of his own accord, and was mildly annoyed when that proved correct. ¡°I¡¯m gonna have words with him later.¡± He muttered, before looking back to the confused and worried group of actual kids in front of him. ¡°Alright, so. Who wants to explain their incredibly hazardous desire to be here first?¡± Chapter 134 ¡°Each meeting occurs at the precise moment for which it was meant. Usually, when it will have the greatest impact on our lives.¡± -Nadia Scrieva, Fathoms of Forgiveness- Every two weeks, there was a meeting. The Order of Endless Rooms had, more than a little bit, an anarchistic structure. People did what they thought was important, worked with who they trusted, and didn¡¯t really follow any formalized command structure that would have made much sense to a formal business or government. A lot of what they did was seen through two shared lenses; first, the existence of the dungeons, and second, the desire to do good regardless of petty things like ¡®social norms¡¯ or ¡®laws¡¯. Often, what this led to was enthusiastic cooperation. Whether it was working on some new strategy or gear for use in push farther into the Office, testing the weird stuff they hauled back into reality, taking a shift on the response team, learning what camracondas absolutely could not eat, or helping the survivors of dungeon events get back on their feet. There were always people who would throw their time and skills at problems. And while there were natural leaders who stood out, there was absolutely no cause to discount the dozens of others who worked and fought and strove for the Order and its ideals. Of course, boundless energy and enthusiasm didn¡¯t equate to infinite resources. And there were more than a few arguments over who needed what more. This was where Karen stepped in. Originally, their finances had been JP¡¯s problem. And then later, Harvey had managed the operational budget. In both cases, Karen supported their efforts by meticulously tracking expenses, building a litany of spreadsheets that she was pretty sure no one ever read, but that put all the information into neat rows. But now, Harvey was running dispatch for their newest operation, fielding panicked phone calls from people who didn¡¯t want to call 911, or who were willing to take a gamble on the rumor they¡¯d heard. And JP was¡­ What *was* JP doing? The last time Karen had asked, he¡¯d stared straight ahead for eight seconds, before blinking, refocusing on her, saying ¡®security¡¯, and then pushing the ¡®close doors¡¯ button on the elevator without ever stepping off it. So Karen¡¯s spreadsheets suddenly got a lot more relevant to her. Because no one else was going to balance the books. God knew that James was too busy with whatever his latest scheme was to actually participate. Karen resented James a bit. But only a bit. He was an overenthusiastic child sometimes, but his heart was in the right place. Which she¡¯d never tell him, out loud, of course. But it was the thought that counted. Right now, though, Karen was easily able to accept the new work, because it was fairly closely tied to what she¡¯d already been doing, and that task was mostly self-sustaining at this point. Recovery had seen to the immediate needs of everyone who needed it, and now, it was mostly about long term care, weekly check ins with survivors, and the ongoing attempt to locate lost family members. Of those things, only the last one was one that she actually put personal work in on, with the others being delegated to the people who considered themselves her staff. And so she ended up with quite a lot of free time. In theory this was a dream job. She literally set her own pay, didn¡¯t have to do much more than check in with a few people every week, and had the backing of everyone involved in this lucrative endeavor. In reality, Karen got bored fast. And while she wasn¡¯t going to admit that she was a workaholic, that did seem to be the trajectory her life was taking these days. All of this was preamble to how she found herself in one of the Order¡¯s basements, mediating an argument about use of assets, and wondering if she could go back to not having any responsibilities while nursing a headache. ¡°I was *going to use those*.¡± Momo was accusatorially shouting, throwing her arms in the air as she did so. ¡°You can¡¯t just take whatever you want! I left a note!¡± ¡°And I *told you*,¡± Deb was trying to stay calm and clearly not doing a great job, ¡°that I didn¡¯t see a note, and that we only took two of the damn things anyway! Why are you so mad about this?¡± ¡°They¡¯re a limited supply!¡± Momo yelled. ¡°And I needed them. For a thing.¡± ¡°They come from a seemingly infinite world! They aren¡¯t limited!¡± ¡°What.¡± Karen cut in from where she¡¯d been standing nearby, having come down to the basement some five minutes of argument ago. ¡°Is going on here.¡± ¡°Deb¡¯s keeping me from building a panopticon!¡± Momo exclaimed. ¡°Momo¡¯s starving our shellaxies.¡± Deb flatly declared. ¡°Wait, what?¡± Momo looked more than a little hurt at that. ¡°Is that what you needed the chips for? Why didn¡¯t you say so?¡± ¡°I tried to, and you started yelling about how I¡¯d crippled your masterpiece.¡± Deb was doing a much better job staying level headed now. ¡°But yes, since you asked so nicely, we wanted to get a couple of the working on a program that generates ¡®bugs¡¯ that a shellaxy can effectively use as a food source. In case our supply line of yellows is cut again, once the pandemic ends, and the company that owns the building starts having things like ¡®employees on site¡¯ and ¡®security¡¯ again.¡± ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± Momo had a look to her like she was about to fall apart. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ I just¡­¡± Karen turned and left before they started hugging or crying. Either one wasn¡¯t really her domain. Sometimes, all it took to solve a problem like this was someone requiring that the participants explain themselves. And in the background, it would require another row on her spreadsheet. The first step was understanding the problem. Which she had the shape of, now. Resource scarcity wasn¡¯t uncommon, though usually in the Order it came in the form of not enough money. And more recently, not enough magic coffee - a shame her suggestion to copy the coffee itself hadn¡¯t worked. But mostly money. So the next step was gathering information. ¡°How many emeralds do we acquire from Officium Mundi each week?¡± Karen asked, not bothering to waste time with a greeting when half the people here already understood that direct approaches were best. It was the one benefit of working with a pack of anxious millennials. ¡°No idea. Why?¡± Nate didn¡¯t actually wait for an answer as he turned to head back into the kitchen. Step one point five was acquiring a carafe of coffee, and their chef didnt like ¡®non-staff¡¯ in his realm. Karen didn¡¯t bother filling him in. If he didn¡¯t know, he didn¡¯t know. He was just the first active delver she¡¯d run into. She had a list, of those who spent time in the relevant spaces. Fortified by caffeine, and also the subtle magic that made her common sense an order of magnitude more powerful, Karen started running down her list. JP wasn¡¯t on site, so he¡¯d get an email later. Dave was aware of the emeralds, but didn¡¯t have numbers. He did tell Karen he could get her more, though, She made a note. Rapidly, Karen ran out of people to talk to face to face. At that point, the texts and emails started. And finally, she got a hit. ¡°I think there¡¯s, like, ten of them per sheet of silver?¡± Daniel filled her in via phone call. ¡°We¡¯ve only actually ever brought two sheets out. They¡¯re kinda bulky and hard to manage, and we weren¡¯t really using the chips for anything important yet.¡± ¡°How bulky?¡± Karen needed to know. ¡°Like¡­ you¡¯d need a cart to carry more than one. Unless they can break into pieces, I dunno. Also, we still have those silver plates in the basement, no one¡¯s using ¡®em. If that matters.¡± ¡°Not right now. But noted.¡± Karen added that to the pile of potential income sources. ¡°Do you have tactical details about their source?¡± She put no infliction on her words. Not on purpose, anyway. She was focused on the notes she was making. ¡°Uh¡­ I remember El saying they came out of a cave. James built a weird magnet thing for the time he went in there.¡± She could almost feel Daniel shaking his head and shrugging. ¡°No ideas beyond that.¡± ¡°Do the caves resupply themselves?¡± ¡°Maybe? I mean, probably.¡± ¡°Mmh. And finding them? Could you do that?¡± Daniel sucked air through his teeth. ¡°I¡­ *could*... but Path and I don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Thank you for your time.¡± Karen cut him off. ¡°I¡¯ll leave some yellows in your locker for when you¡¯re next at the¡­ Lair.¡± She bit off the self-agrandizing title for their work space. And then, before Daniel could continue protesting, hung up. More information was needed. What was Momo working on? That was actually easy to find out from their shared chat server. Karen wasn¡¯t overly familiar with the interface on her computer, but she knew how to search key terms. And despite Momo¡¯s use of broken english when she typed, it wasn¡¯t hard to find out how many of the emeralds she wanted. ¡®More¡¯. An expanded search turned up old records from Virgil, rest his heart, about a number of projects he had planned. Eventually, someone would rekindle those ideas, so Karen accounted for them, as well as the smattering of other ideas thrown around. Projects were filtered through her mind by low and high priority, by number of chips needed, and by how likely people were to remember they¡¯d grabbed their phone off a nightstand at 4 AM to send a text reading ¡°what if grow a program that hates Comcast¡±. Karen stared at that for a full minute, before moving it to the high priority column. Then she copied her compiled list of ideas and sent it to the Research channel in the chat server. More information was needed. The Order had a map on its server, and Karen started poring over the spaces in Officium Mundi that had been charted. It was, after only about a mile or two out from the entrance, only a sliver of a fraction of the whole thing. But there were points of interest noted, including two caves. One of them, James had even attached pictures of the silver sheets that bore the emeralds like eggs. Karen checked it; thirteen of the chips, latched onto the plate of metal. There was also a reference to something in the Operations Manual. _____ Order of Endless Rooms Operations Manual Section 3-1, Part 19 : Officium Mundi, Life Forms - Points of Light (Pinpricks) Native to the below-floor caves of Officium Mundi, the pinpricks are generally nonhostile swarms of pins and thumbtacks. They are airborne, with very high maneuverability despite having no visible wings. Estimated speed is about four miles/hour. Pinpricks emit light in small flashes. At first, it was thought that they were just catching light off their metallic surfaces, but further inspection revealed that this happens even if there is no local light. Unknown if this is a method of communication, or just a random dungeon flair. While pinpricks will mostly stay in drifting swarms over the main bodies of water in the caves, they will become agitated, and eventually violent, if anything is removed from the environment. So far this is verified for the metals embedded in the walls or floors, but is also suspected for the crystal growths, or even the water in large quantities. There are no confirmed kills on a pinprick swarm. See Also, Part 10 Section 14 - Tools - Electromagnet Bolas _____ Karen read over the information twice. Then she opened the linked part of the Operations Manual, and read that, too. While she did this, she tried not to think about what it would feel like to have a swarm like that fall on you, and was mostly successful in suppressing a shudder. The next step was planning. Planning was a combination of a lot of little things. Karen didn¡¯t have the kind of absolute control over things that she could assign individual delvers to jobs. Hell, there wasn¡¯t actually a promise that a given delver would actually show up to any window of entry. And this put a mild frustration in the mix. But it wasn¡¯t an impossible obstacle, because Karen was learning one very important thing. The members of the Order were *ravenous* to be useful. To help out, to share the burden. If, and it was an impossible if, but *if* everyone in the world was like them, then communism would work right the first time and without complaint. So actually making sure there were some people doing a job was less important than making the job doable. So. Back to logistics. A column in the finances spreadsheet got updated to show the purchase of new equipment, and within two days there would be a package at the Lair with two pull-carts designed for trail hiking. If they could handle forest floors, they could handle the Office easily. Later in the afternoon, as the sharpened mind the coffee gave her started to wear off, Karen found herself in the warehouse part of the building, filling a pair of duffel bags with work gloves, crowbars - actually the tool for the job this time - pliers, anti-static bags, and extra alcohol wipes. The thought that went into the tool selection was one of balancing time and weight; the chips could be extracted from the silver casing they ¡®grew¡¯ in, but they weren¡¯t invincible. So, there needed to be a way to easily haul the unprocessed ¡®ore¡¯ away from the threat zone, but from there, the equipment to carefully harvest the emeralds and lighten the load would be important for a long trek back to the door. Especially if, as Karen hoped for with a best case scenario, they could be bringing back dozens of the things. The silver was of marginal value. She did a quick profit analysis, comparing the value of a single potential program from one of the chips, to the value of one of the chunks of silver. The upper ceiling on program value was simply too high to worry about the little extra from the material. Not compared to the risk of dungeon delving. The delvers didn¡¯t talk about it, but the Office was still dangerous. No one had died in it yet, but it wasn¡¯t for lack of it trying. Karen remembered waking up in that dusty conference room, skulljack cord suddenly cut away, her muscles unused, her mind fragmented. The first thing she¡¯d registered was a cracked rib from where Alanna had hit her. And the entire way out, she¡¯d known, *known*, how close to death they all were. And then people like James were excited to *go back in*? No. Not for her. And she¡¯d minimize any risks she asked them to take. The bags were left open as she took the stairs down to the recently renovated space that Research operated out of. Karen didn¡¯t talk much to the Research department, but she knew their general ¡®type¡¯. Goal-oriented, easily distracted, and averse to spending time outside. She grabbed the attention of the first one of them that made the mistake of meeting her eye. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°I need six of these built by Monday.¡± Karen said simply, handing over a printout from the Operations Manual describing the magnetic device used to handle the pinpricks. ¡°I¡¯m not too concerned about improvements to the design, but if you can manage it, that would be appreciated.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± The young man she didn¡¯t know the name of looked down at the design specifications. ¡°I can¡­ probably¡­ yeah! Yeah, sure. But we don¡¯t have¡­¡± He looked sheepishly around the basement. ¡°The Research account should already have some extra funds in it for this.¡± Karen assured him. And then, he did that thing that Order members did that still threw her off. He smiled, nodded, didn¡¯t press her for more time or money, and promised to have it done. She noted down his name, and made sure that his locker would also have a couple extra orbs in it. Karen didn¡¯t like the orbs, really. But she wasn¡¯t above handing them out like candy to those who did. The equipment bags were set aside in her office. Relevant parts of the map were printed out to provide a set of directions to the objectives, and those printouts added to the bags. The receipts were filed properly. The report she was compiling was printed off six times. It was almost 3 PM. Still time to get work done. Karen contacted a precious metals dealer that also operated as a smelter, sending a polite email detailing the need to have a quantity of material turned into hundred ounce bars, and inquiring about price and timing. She sent the same email to two other locations for comparison, and then another to a bank to get a second angle on the final sale. There was, after all, no sense letting money go to waste. Despite the fact that they wouldn¡¯t be prioritizing the silver going forward, especially if it was a needless risk to the delvers, that didn¡¯t mean she was going to just leave what they had in the basement. Following that, as a method of relaxation, she read through the notes that Virgil had left regarding the use of the emeralds. Virgil had been her favorite member of the Order, before his death, because he had been both direct, and very well documented. His notes were immaculate, when he chose to leave them, and when he used English and not Engineer. As she learned more about the resource, Karen began to see a problem that would require addressing. The emeralds were not perfect. In fact, they had two major problems. First off, they required an amount of time to fully manifest their product. That wasn¡¯t an exceptionally large issue, but with only one use per emerald, that left no room for iterative prototyping - Karen learned that term from Virgil¡¯s notes, and instantly adopted it. The only real counter to this problem would be using multiple emeralds on the same task, and letting them ¡®grow¡¯ into different solutions. Which necessitated adjusting her estimated requirements. The second problem was that, as they grew, they became specialized into near uselessness. Karen didn¡¯t actually see a problem with that, as the entire point was to create specialized tools. But Virgil referenced it several times, and the number of italics he used made it sound like he had *opinions* on the process. The eventual metaphor Karen¡¯s mind settled on was that the emeralds essentially ¡®ripened¡¯ over time. And once they reached a certain sweet spot, needed to be harvested, before they went too far. Which was fine enough when you were farming actual fruit, but when you couldn¡¯t easily check the code the magical computer chips were growing, and actually testing them stopped the growth entirely, that meant, again, that they would need more of them to accomplish the same goal. Karen updated her estimates. Then she added a printout to both gear bags asking for scout reports on the number of ore plates in each cave. Clearly this was going to be a constant asset expense, and not a one time influx of material that they wouldn¡¯t need to replenish. Perhaps one of the teams that exploited the other towers that held the copy coffee could be tasked to swing by the cave. Would that be too much like an actual job? Karen was not *completely* unaware of the prevailing culture of the Order of Endless Rooms. She might not understand it, or mesh with it, but she had some of the key points internalized. First of all, there was a predilection for giving things names with a sort of mythical language. Karen was not a fan. Things should have simple, clean names, that didn¡¯t stand out, as far as she was concerned. But the second thing was that not a single one of these people wanted to do work. It was important to note that she didn¡¯t think any of them were lazy. Even James, who suffered from depression that he really should be medicated for, was a remarkably driven individual. But no one was really here to do ¡®a job¡¯. They were here to pursue their passions, and sometimes, those passions overlapped with keeping the lights on and providing paychecks. Which was convenient, but not sustainable. Right now, there were new hires that were slated to come in for orientation sometime next week, in ones and twos, and Karen had an almost desperate hope that she could abscond with one of them to use as an actual employee. Before the great sundering took place, and they realized that they could essentially get away with anything, as long as they were getting away with something. Halfway through that thought, she realized she¡¯d just referred to ¡®disconnecting from modern western society¡¯ as ¡®the great sundering¡¯, and knew that she¡¯d lost a part of herself to whatever culture the Order was building. But it wasn¡¯t so bad; she still had spreadsheets. At 4 PM, she heard back from the smelter, and began reevaluating whether or not they should be hauling out large quantities of silver after all. It wasn¡¯t quite as lucrative as billing the federal government, or whatever borderline securities fraud JP was doing, but it was a *lot* of money. Or at least, it was enough to keep the Order running for a while. Karen often felt like no one really truly appreciated how expensive this operation was. Usually, businesses that leased out buildings used those buildings to actually generate an income stream, and not just as a glorified clubhouse. Not so here, where basically everything in the Lair was an expense and all the profit happened offsite. Lease, utilities, constant remodels, paychecks, an endless stream of replacements and upgrade to delver gear and weaponry, ammo, *food*. The camracondas could eat most human food, which was nice, but was also another several dozen mouths to feed. At least they had their kitchen centralized. It cut down on waste to have meals prepared and distributed in a group nature like that. The thought sparked a memory, and Karen made a note to offer this as a potential solution to James. He¡¯d been rambling about food waste in general, lately. There were just a lot of expenses, was the thing. Many of them little things, like laundry. They had beds here, which meant they needed to clean bedding. She hadn¡¯t gotten around to figuring out if it was more cost effective to purchase a laundry machine for the Lair. Normally there would be a concern about where to put it, but honestly, Karen had given up on that worry after the second basement manifested. And all of the costs were fairly important; she couldn¡¯t exactly ask them to cut back on their ammunition usage, after all. Or maybe¡­? Karen sent an email to an old military friend of hers. They¡¯d gone to high school together, and kept in touch over the years. Karen kept in touch with everyone; it wasn¡¯t hard. Last she¡¯d heard, he¡¯d made corporal. Perhaps he¡¯d have some insight into ammunition logistics. At a quarter to five, Karen got up and left her office. She took the time to go ¡®down¡¯ to the kitchen again, descending one floor and nine hundred miles north in an elevator she still didn¡¯t fully understand, to pick up another carafe of coffee. And a plate of cookies. A brief thank you to Nate for his work, and then it was back up-south to the office, where Karen spent five minutes wiping down the conference table that they had in the main room by the elevator, and setting out her printed reports and the traditional workplace meeting food-bribe. At exactly 5 PM, just as she¡¯d finished coaxing the incredibly clingy living fern off of the last chair and back onto its - his? - trellis by the wall, Karen sat down. Every two weeks, there was a meeting. Meeting was a strong word. Every two weeks, Karen had convinced the command structure of the Order that they absolutely needed a coherent face to face gathering where everyone could explain what they were doing, so no one stepped on any toes. It had been an easy sell after the time between testing the telepad¡¯s capabilities and the training for Response, they had actually almost used up every single one of the irreplaceable artifacts. Well, irreplaceable if they didn¡¯t have any to copy. Harvey arrived first, because he was, Karen appreciated, an adult. He was also one of three people who rotated through working as dispatch for their infant vigilante service. Though as far as she understood it, they didn¡¯t so much ¡®fight crime¡¯ as they did serve as a crisis intervention team. Harvey gave her a sleep deprived ¡®hello¡¯ as he sat down, and Karen made a note to look into hiring some new people to fill that role. Harvey was a natural leader, but he had a habit of taking on work that they could train someone for. Perhaps hiring people who had volunteered with the sudicide prevention hotline would make for the right mix of compatible ethics and needed training. Reed and Anesh arrived next, the two young men showing up ¡®late¡¯, but seeing as the elevator¡¯s travel time could be flexible as it crossed the gulf of space that was California, Karen gave them a pass and a nod. Reed apologized to her for the incident in the basement earlier, which Karen almost raised her eyebrows at. She¡¯d been unaware that either of the two women were actually in his management structure, but then, it wasn¡¯t like anyone ever wrote those things down. She made polite small talk with Reed about how they were handling having new people working for him, and made mental notes about the individuals he identified as new members. To Karen¡¯s surprise, it was Lua who showed up next, stumbling out of the elevator like she knew she was late. The other woman had been, Karen decided, unduly influenced by the younger people she spent time around all day. That said, she was still the most knowledgeable about the treatment of mental health issues out of anyone here, and her presence in lieu of Sarah¡¯s most likely meant that either Sarah was busy with one of a dozen other projects, or that Lua had something relevant to discuss regarding the school. Polite greetings were exchanged after she caught her breath and took a chair, at which point, Karen simply sat back and committed to memory anything that was said between Lua and Anesh as they spoke about their weeks. It was to Karen¡¯s absolute lack of surprise that James was the last one to arrive. He didn¡¯t acknowledge his own lateness, and instead took a cookie that he demolished in two bites. ¡°Alright. Who wants to go first?¡± James asked as he sat down, throwing himself at the chair like it was the last liferaft on the Titanic. ¡°I can.¡± Harvey leaned forward, burying a yawn with a mouthful of coffee. It wasn¡¯t magical this time, just caffeinated. ¡°We¡¯re seeing a gradual increase in calls. And so far, I think because of the nature of our operation, they¡¯ve all been fairly high priority. Because of how quickly we can respond to most things, we haven¡¯t needed any more bodies, but it¡¯s only a matter of time.¡± ¡°Can you explain the ¡®nature of operation¡¯ thing?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Is it because we¡¯re harder to remember than 999?¡± ¡°America uses 911.¡± Reed corrected him, and Anesh rolled his eyes. It wasn¡¯t like he hadn¡¯t known, it was just that the number didn¡¯t matter. He didn¡¯t counter correct, though, and let Harvey explain. ¡°We¡¯re down to four digits on our number, so no, it¡¯s not that it¡¯s too hard. We aren¡¯t buried in everyone¡¯s brains yet, though. Basically, what¡¯s happening is that we¡¯re a¡­ hm. Call us a last resort.¡± Harvey explained. ¡°If someone calls us, it¡¯s because they¡¯re desperate, and they¡¯re chasing a rumor that *maybe* we can help. So the people we get calling in are¡­¡± Anesh nodded along. ¡°Bleeding out, too far from help, or don¡¯t trust the authorities.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Now, don¡¯t mistake me. We¡¯re gonna be ready to expand, soon. So we should start thinking about who we tell. If anyone has any ideas, well, shit, I¡¯ve got an office.¡± ¡°You are never in your office.¡± Karen said, and a couple people laughed. She frowned lightly. Had she said something funny? ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll go.¡± Anesh said, stretching in his chair. ¡°We¡¯re taking the new people into the Office this week. All of them are¡­ excited. That said, I have mixed feelings about involving the kids.¡± ¡°As do I.¡± Lua interjected. ¡°They are, literally, the future.¡± James said, leaning forward and propping himself up on his elbows. ¡°How are they gonna learn if we don¡¯t teach them?¡± ¡°Great logic for trade skills and academia.¡± Lua chastised him back. ¡°Falls apart a bit when you¡¯re talking about fighting monsters for treasure.¡± Anesh wavered a hand back and forth, ¡°Ehhhh.¡± He grunted. ¡°I¡¯ve been in academia for a while. I dunno if it¡¯s that different. The death is just less metaphorical here.¡± ¡°Not helping.¡± James stage whispered at his boyfriend. ¡°They¡¯re traumatized.¡± Lua said. ¡°Whether they acknowledge it or not. I work with these kids all day now; they are not¡­ okay. Oh, on that note, we need to have an actual medical staff. Physical and mental. And¡­ other? If that¡¯s an option.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°We¡¯re expanding too fast.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯re going to lose cohesion if we aren¡¯t careful. Like with the kids, actually. How are we supposed to shape them into good people if we don¡¯t even agree on what good people are? We¡¯ve got outlines, but no details.¡± ¡°Welcome to being a parent, circa forever.¡± Harvey snorted a laugh. ¡°My point is, they¡¯ve seen the danger first hand. They have to live with that, forever, unless we can find a way to selectively cut the memories away.¡± James¡¯ voice was serious as he addressed them. ¡°They¡¯re already here. If we ignore them, they don¡¯t get better. We can either¡­ show them what we know, help them feel safe. Or we can ignore them, and hope the problem goes away.¡± He shrugged, as if it wasn¡¯t a major choice. ¡°I vote take them in.¡± ¡°I vote against.¡± Lua said. ¡°For.¡± Harvey added, while at the same time, Anesh said ¡°Against.¡± From next to him, Reed made a rude noise and held up his hands. ¡°Abstain!¡± Everyone looked over at Karen. And she took the time to think. The votes were informal, but they tended to actually mean something anyway. So she considered before she spoke. She thought of the need for more hands, the ethics of involving minors in their operation, the extra cost and the added potential. Then, she thought of her daughter. Would she survive the same things, without anyone to teach her how? She almost hadn¡¯t survived just being in this very building. Exposure to the Order meant exposure to its enemies. And yet. Even after being grounded for the transgression, her child had a spark back in her eyes at home. She spoke about making new friends, about playing tag with the camracondas, about *magic* that she¡¯d seen and experienced. It was like she was coming back to life. ¡°For.¡± Karen said quietly. James started in his chair, did a double take, and then looked at her more closely than he had before. Harvey glanced her way, but he already knew. That man was more alert than everyone gave him credit for. There were a few grumbles from around the table, but it was essentially settled. They¡¯d try it. Carefully. But they¡¯d try. The meeting progressed quickly after that. They ran through what Research had been working on, heard James complain about some of the failed interviews and suggest tweaks to their recruitment policy, discussed what their policy should be regarding the school dungeon going forward, and started to hammer out how many times they would copy each book from that place. The problem with the books was, if you copied them, the people who used them each share the same ¡®lesson¡¯. They¡¯d need to learn exactly the same things to advance, and that wasn¡¯t always practical if they applied it to, say, the whole Order. Lua and Karen each independently estimated it would be about four or five people maximum before the upgrades would stagnate into never advancing, the women basing their thoughts on a lifetime of college courses. Anesh disagreed, but Anesh was an academic, so his viewpoint was skewed and Karen knew it. Eventually, they were mostly done, and James said the words that signaled the winddown of their meeting. ¡°Any last things before I eat the rest of the cookies and run?¡± He asked them. Karen almost shook her head at how unprofessional he was. But then, no one here was ¡®professional¡¯. And yet, the results kept pouring in, didn¡¯t they? So she spoke up with consideration, and not malice. ¡°I have one last thing.¡± She said, passing printouts of her report around the table. ¡°Reed already knows a bit of this, but I¡¯ll sum up. We don¡¯t have enough of the emeralds that we use for programming.¡± ¡°We need dedicated software engineers.¡± Reed cut her off a little rudely. ¡°The problem is that we used a handful of the things for stuff to fill gaps left in Virgil¡¯s work. And the people with skulljacks in the support group are getting really good at information gathering and security, but they don¡¯t actually know programming languages that we can use. An orb for that would really help. Or just hiring people who already know¡­ um¡­ Python?¡± He glanced at Anesh. ¡°No.¡± Anesh said. ¡°C+?¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°Still no.¡± ¡°What are we actually coding in?¡± Reed asked. ¡°I kinda don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Before this goes too far,¡± Karen turned the interruption around, ¡°I have an easier solution. Task a team of delvers to retrieve more each week. We should be able to add it to the loop of the expedition to this tower.¡± She tapped the map. ¡°Hm.¡± James looked over the paper. ¡°I don¡¯t mind being part of that. But what about¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already accounted for the weight. Also, the standard threats of the cave are manageable, our Research department should have finished countermeasures by Monday.¡± She nodded to Reed. ¡°The report has more details, but we have enough projects to make use of up to fifty chips a week. Research also has a list of other potential uses, which might be functional income sources.¡± ¡°We do? Uh. We do, yes!¡± Reed cleared his throat. ¡°I can put a list of that together¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s on your chat server.¡± Karen told him politely. ¡°Although, if you could prepare the silver that they came from for transport, I¡¯ll be having that smelted and sold this week.¡± James hummed as he looked over the report, pursing his lips in consideration. ¡°You put a lot of thought into this. Alright, cool. Consider it done.¡± He said, before looking up and meeting Karen¡¯s eyes. ¡°Will you be joining us in the dungeon this week?¡± He asked in a soft voice. ¡°No.¡± Karen had seen more than enough violence for the rest of her life. Shortly after that, their meeting ended. The others lingered, except for Harvey, who hurried back to his work. They would want to socialize, to plan, to hear James ramble about potential housing patterns that maximized sunlight for an arcology. Karen wasn¡¯t interested; her workday was over, and she was heading home. It was already dark as she walked out to her car, feeling oddly secure in the quiet winter night under the watchful gaze of the camraconda on the roof behind her. The building across the street was *still* undergoing a remodel from the damage Daniel had put on it, and she rolled her eyes at the inefficiency. The drive home, similarly, was quiet. Sometimes she would listen to the news, or a language lesson, as she drove. But tonight felt like a good night for comfortable silence. Nothing interrupted her for the forty minutes it took to cross the city and return to her home. Her home. Which almost hadn¡¯t been, anymore. Karen breathed out as she exited her car in the driveway, breath steaming in the frozen night air. She looked up at the front of her house, and at the single light on in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and felt a pang of true pain in her chest. When she walked inside, closing and locking the door behind her, there was a noise from upstairs. A much lighter door opening, and then footsteps. Her daughter, Elizabeth, coming around a corner in a little too much of a hurry and standing at the top of the stairs. ¡°Mom!¡± The young girl exclaimed, voice a mixture of relief and concern. A tone that had become all too common in her life. Elizabeth, Liz as she preferred, was the last person Karen had in her life. And her daughter, despite being everything Karen was not, was perfect. When the nightmare of her imprisonment had ended, her fragmented mind pulled back together into its original shell, Karen had thought that the hard part was over. Then, James and Alanna had led her and over fifty other starving, broken people through mile after mile of hostile territory to drag them back to reality, and she¡¯d thought *then*, surely, the hard part was over. And then she¡¯d returned home. To her house, with an overgrown lawn, and brambles crawling through her garden. Where there were two cars missing from the garage. Where half the furniture had been moved away. And where, inside the cold walls that had long had the power turned off, Karen had not found her husband, had not found her sons, had not been greeted by the family¡¯s overly energetic dog. Instead, there was just Liz. Living alone, cold, and terrified. She hadn¡¯t understood how everyone could have left so easily. How her siblings and father had *forgotten* her mom. How everyone had, as if in a daze, packed up and left, without thinking too hard about who they were leaving behind. She¡¯d struggled, for months, to keep her life normal. To try to look for signs of her mother while pushing through school, eventually abandoning school to pick up a part time job so she could afford food. When Karen had come home that first time, Liz had almost fainted from relief. She¡¯d been *right*. No matter what anyone else said, she had *not forgotten*. And as time passed within the Order, Karen had quickly realized something; her daughter had something that no one else came close to. A near total immunity to memetic intervention. She¡¯d almost tried to cut her off from all contact when she figured it out. But by then, Liz was friends with Momo, the girl who styled herself a witch coming by their house for dinner sometimes and bringing a splash of color and life to her daughter. So she settled for trying to keep her out of the Lair, which hadn¡¯t worked either. It wasn¡¯t that Karen didn¡¯t trust James, it was just¡­ She was so afraid. She¡¯d lost everything. And as easy as it was to shut off that feeling while she was at work, when she came home, and saw her last family in her empty house, the feeling crept back in so easily. ¡°I¡¯m home.¡± She said to her daughter, instead of voicing any of that fear. ¡°Are you doing homework?¡± Liz nodded as she stomped down the stairs. ¡°Yeah, math.¡± She said. ¡°Mom, can I¡­ um¡­¡± Karen finally smiled, for the first time today. A real actual smile, with true warmth behind it, as she wrapped her child in a hug that Liz instantly started trying to wiggle out of. ¡°Yes, dear.¡± Karen answered. ¡°You can be ungrounded. And I¡­ am sorry.¡± She didn¡¯t say it easily, but something James had said earlier had stuck with her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I tried to cut you out. It wasn¡¯t right. And if you want to, you can come visit when I¡¯m at work, okay?¡± ¡°O¡­ okay!¡± Liz brightened up instantly, even if she looked a little suspicious. ¡°Does that mean that I can¡­¡± ¡°You can apply again, if you like. I¡¯ll let our¡­ leader¡­ know to reconsider you.¡± Karen stumbled over the unfamiliar word. ¡°Now go wash your hands and come help me make dinner.¡± ¡°Yes mom!¡± Liz bolted back up the stairs, obvious grin on her face. Hours and hours later, Karen rolled herself out of the king sized bed she slept in alone. It was almost four AM; too early for most people to wake up, and certainly late enough that her daughter would still be asleep. Dressing in light clothes, Karen made her way downstairs as silently as she could, efforts aided by one of the few upgrade orbs she¡¯d taken. In the basement of the suburban home that reminded her so much of her lost family, Karen pulled a long case out from underneath a side table. Undoing the clasps on it, she pulled out and spread across the coffee table a bulletproof vest, a belt with holster, a handgun, one of the Status Quo bracers, and a long sword with a razor¡¯s edge. For the next two hours, she alternated between practicing the motions of donning the armor and weaponry, mentally switching intercept modes on the bracer, honing the speed with which she could draw and level the gun, and moving through a set of swordsman¡¯s forms. All the while, she controlled her breathing, and did her best to stay alert to any indication that her daughter might be moving down the stairs. Karen wasn¡¯t lying when she said she¡¯d seen enough violence for a lifetime. But she understood James so very well earlier, when he¡¯d spoken about giving the victims of the Akashic Sewer the tools they needed to overcome their fear. To move forward. To thrive. No matter what happened, she would be grateful to the Order for that for the rest of her life. And she would never, ever, be a victim again. Chapter 135 ¡°Down these mean streets must go a man, who is not himself mean. Who is neither tarnished, nor afraid. He is the hero; he is everything.¡± - Raymond Chandler - ¡°Nate!¡± James called out as he entered the kitchen. He did so without flourish, giving a short rap on the swinging doors before carefully pushing them open. He did this because the last time he¡¯d kicked the door in and strode in like a cowboy out of the old west, he¡¯d almost nailed Ann in the face and only sharp reflexes on a camraconda had saved her a headache. ¡°Get out of my kitchen.¡± The gruff chef said, not turning around from the pot of soup he was pouring a roux into. ¡°I¡¯ve got a question for you, and also this is *my* kitchen.¡± James retorted. Nate shot him a *look* over his shoulder, and James paused. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll share custody of the kitchen.¡± He reconsidered. ¡°Anyway¡­¡± ¡°What¡¯s the question?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m looking for advice from someone who was in the intelligence community, and I don¡¯t think that DeKay is going to want to hear this particular question. Also she¡¯s not here. So¡­ hm. How do I put this¡­?¡± James thought for a second, hopping up to sit on the stainless steel counter while he scratched at his chin. ¡°What¡­ as an estimate¡­ what would happen if the world¡¯s nuclear weapons all went away tomorrow?¡± Nate froze for a split second, tensing up so suddenly he wasn¡¯t sure if Knife-In-Fangs had hit him with his look. He tried not to show it, though, and instead pivoted to keep an eye on James, who was now eating one of the slices of cake off the speed rack. He didn¡¯t complain about the cake; technically, that *was* for anyone. ¡°Went away *how*?¡± Nate asked. ¡°Like, if nukes stopped working? It would take a while for people to notice; most countries only do one test a year, unless it also disrupts nuclear powerplants. Or are you talking about, like, if everyone lost all their nukes and it was publicly known?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s say either, for now.¡± ¡°Okay, well.¡± Nate hooked the ladle he was holding onto the side of the soup pot. ¡°For the first one? Once someone notices, they probably start a war of expansion. There¡¯s four or five countries - and you already know which ones they are - that basically only don¡¯t try to take over the world because they can¡¯t stop nuclear strikes. So someone¡¯s going to launch a preemptive conventional attack, and the global scene is going to go fuckin¡¯ crazy.¡± He sighed. ¡°There¡¯s a guess for the death toll of a third world war, but I can¡¯t remember what it is exactly. Something like twenty percent of the planet, though. Assuming no nukes.¡± Nate pointed a meaningful look at James and added ¡°If everyone lost their bombs and they all know it? Then it¡¯s a lot worse. Panic, riots. The kind that lead to famine in a year or two. It¡¯ll get ugly.¡± ¡°Ooof. Okay.¡± James winced around a mouthful of chocolate cake. ¡°Alright, what if, *purely hypothetically*, a hypothetical third party announced that they had, somehow, stolen all the nukes?¡± Nate reminded himself, as calmly as possible, that he wasn¡¯t allowed to strangle his boss to death. Though *maybe* it would be one of those ¡®ends justify the means¡¯ things, in this case. ¡°Whoever thought giving you access to teleportation was a good idea was a fucking moron.¡± The ex-agent groaned. ¡°Please, *please*, do *not* steal nuclear weapons. The only thing that comes out of that is that every single other nuclear power on the planet is going to find this building, and flatten it. There¡¯s no way this situation ends well for us, especially since I seriously won¡¯t believe that you would nuke anyone. Ownership of nuclear weapons for the Order is a target on our backs with no defense for it.¡± ¡°Hm. Okay, we¡¯ll have to build up a lot more first then.¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I was clear here.¡± Nate stopped James as his boss dropped off the counter, holding up one hand in a flat motion. ¡°Do not do this. Ever. The only thing it is going to do is disrupt the most dangerous peace the world has ever seen.¡± ¡°Shaking up the status quo is our mission statement.¡± James reminded him. ¡°You won¡¯t get them all.¡± Nate said dryly. ¡°What?¡± ¡°The nukes. You won¡¯t get them all. You just won¡¯t. I¡¯ve read the same reports on the telepads that you have. The destination needs to be a specific place, not just a category, unless it¡¯s within line of sight. ¡®Next to a nuclear weapon I don¡¯t own¡¯ is a category. I¡¯m sure you could find the addresses for a lot of the silos or bunkers, but are you telling me you can get *every* nuclear armed sub? You aren¡¯t, because if you tried, you¡¯d be lying.¡± Nate paused for breath, but launched back into his rant before James could get a word in. ¡°Also, you don¡¯t have the manpower to make this a single operation. You¡¯d have to do it in pieces. And that means you¡¯re detected after the first strike. And that means before the end of the day, someone¡¯s going to teleport to a site and get shot to death. How much of the Order are you going to throw away on this?¡± He sighed, and then thought about who he was talking to. ¡°Also owning a nuke is illegal.¡± ¡°The second amendment¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°...Does not¡­¡± ¡°Please stop.¡± ¡°...Explicitly prohibit anyone from owning a nuke.¡± ¡°Why.¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s mostly because the people who wrote the Bill of Rights didn¡¯t actually foresee a world where a single device could cause so much death? But more accurately it¡¯s because the second amendment is, as far as legal historians can agree, more about the formation of something like the National Guard and not about personal weapon ownership. So stuff like artillery pieces or bombs weren¡¯t written out, because obviously a localized military would need to know how to use those.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Constitutional law is kinda weird that way. A lot of the stuff in there just wasn¡¯t meant for a modern world. Like, the question of ¡®what the fuck do we do about the internet¡¯ comes up a *lot*. It¡¯s kind of like if we tried to write laws for a hundred years from now. Would the average lawmaker predict how AI would work? Or, hell, even whether dungeons would be around?¡± James let out a small laugh. ¡°Oh man, at some point that *is* gonna come up, probably. We¡¯re gonna need *lawyers*!¡± ¡°You¡¯re too excited about that.¡± Nate grumbled. ¡°Also, I wasn¡¯t expecting a real answer there. But it¡¯s good that you¡¯ve thought about that.¡± ¡°I read a lot.¡± James gave his chef-slash-intelligence-advisor a lopsided grin as he turned to leave. ¡°Anyway, I gotta get back. I¡¯m on call for Response.¡± Nate nodded back. ¡°Alright. *Now* get out of my kitchen. And don¡¯t steal any nukes! And *do not* ask DeKay about this! Last thing we need right now¡­¡± He trailed off. James was already gone. Nate shook his head, turning back to give the soup one last stir before he dropped the heat on it. Without looking, he tapped the excess liquid off the ladle, and pointed it like a lance at the corner of the kitchen where the stock room door was. ¡°And you two, too! No fucking yapping about this!¡± ¡°Did not want to interrupt.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said with perfect innocence, slithering out from where he¡¯d been eavesdropping. ¡°Yeah, what he said.¡± Ann added, much less convincingly. ¡°I¡¯m not kidding.¡± Nate added seriously. ¡°I know we get away with a lot here, but it¡¯s mostly because we¡¯re not actually ¡®a problem¡¯ for anyone. James, armed with a nuke, is suddenly a problem for *everyone*. And those people have predator drones and no ethics. Trust me, I know.¡± Ann and Knife-In-Fangs both nodded solemnly, until the camraconda made the digital equivalent of a throat clear, and asked, ¡°What is nuke?¡± The two humans looked at their alien coworker, having forgotten for a second that camracondas didn¡¯t actually have history classes or a life of access to the news. Ann brought her hands together in a single loud clap. ¡°Alright! Buckle up, chucklefuck! Time for war history!¡± ¡°Pass.¡± Nate said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go smoke. Have fun explaining how we almost wiped out all life on the planet. Twice.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s way more than twice.¡± He heard Ann say as he rolled his eyes and headed for the patio. ____ The ambulance¡¯s siren wailed its looping cry off the nearby buildings. There wasn¡¯t much traffic, and what there was tended to get out of the way fast, so the driver was moving as rapidly as possible toward their destination. And it wasn¡¯t going to be fast enough. In the back, a young girl was bleeding out, and the EMTs didn¡¯t have the tools to fix the problem. She needed surgery, and she needed it half an hour ago. ¡°How much longer?¡± The shout up to the front was as close to desperate as these professionals let themselves get. They¡¯d been doing this for a long time, both of them, and they both already knew the answer was ¡®¡®too long¡¯. It would be tragic, and sad, and they¡¯d both independently get very drunk after this, but they also both knew that this kid wasn¡¯t long for the world. ¡°There¡¯s construction. Gonna take an alternate route.¡± The driver replied, calm and collected. ¡°She¡¯s going into shock.¡± The internal injuries were too much. There was only so much that first aid could do. ¡°How long?¡± ¡°Minutes.¡± ¡°Do what you can. I¡¯m gonna try something.¡± In the back, the driver¡¯s partner cocked an eyebrow at no one in particular. Try something? Try what? They were too far away from the hospital, and even if they were prepped for surgery *right now*, it would just take too long. And then, from the back of the ambulance, he heard the driver switch the radio over to the bluetooth phone connection they used for music on slow days and lunch breaks. ¡°Where the hell is it¡­¡± His partner¡¯s voice muttered, rustling through pockets. And then, four number presses through the cabin¡¯s speakers. ¡°Dispatch. What is your emergency?¡± The voice came through instantly, and the EMT knew for a goddamn fact that wasn¡¯t how dispatch actually talked. ¡°We¡¯ve got a GSW, victim is between twelve and fourteen, going into shock. Can you¡­ can you help?¡± For the first time, there was something else in the calm facade of the driver¡¯s voice. Of course, though, no one could help. That would be stupid. ¡°Your location?¡± ¡®Dispatch¡¯ asked them. No hesitation in *that* man¡¯s voice. ¡°Passing Watson on TV.¡± The driver said, and the EMT knew exactly where they were, and exactly how far it was to the hospital. ¡°Pull over. Cross street if possible.¡± ¡°What are you doing?¡± The EMT asked as he felt the ambulance slow to a crawl, and stop. The driver killed the siren, but kept the lights on. ¡°They¡¯re not going to be any faster!¡± The driver¡¯s head appeared as they leaned around their seat to look into the back. ¡°A¡­ a friend of mine told me about this. And she doesn¡¯t have a chance anyway, does she?¡± ¡°No.¡± The EMT admitted. ¡°Open the back.¡± The driver said, and told the voice on the phone what street they were parked on. There were still cars passing on the road next to them. They were pulled over partly onto the gravel shoulder, just before a ditch that was full of dead weeds and a tiny stream of chilled water. Some of the cars would slow down to watch, or get into the opposite lane, both of which were familiar to the EMT. There were no vehicles coming up to them, though. Behind the wagon there was just gravel, and the start of a rapid winter sunset. And then, there was a snapping of air, and that wasn¡¯t true anymore. There were three¡­ two people. Three people? Two humans, young men from the looks of their faces, and one¡­ what the fuck was that? ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± The EMT whispered. Then, repeated over their shoulder to the driver, ¡°What the fuck is *that*!?¡± ¡°Dispatch, there are people in body armor approaching our rig, is that you?¡± The driver asked, keeping an eye on things through the rearview mirrors. ¡°That¡¯s us. Don¡¯t panic. Right now, we need some information.¡± ¡°Why would we¡­ *what the fuck is that?*¡± Okay, now the driver was prepared to start worrying a little, as one of the approaching people hoisted what looked like a massive armored snake into the back of their vehicle. One of the young men hopped into the ambulance behind the snake. He was wearing some kind of black shelled armor, but nothing covering his face. The way he moved was strange; a little too precise, a little too rapid. The EMT had seen him a couple of times scan their surroundings, and the motion he made with his head was clearly enough to see what he needed, but it was so fast it whipped his ponytail around his shoulders like a scarf. ¡°Sunny, lock down the kid.¡± The man spoke, and the snake thing reared up over the stretcher. ¡°Hey, hang on!¡± The EMT moved to block them, but the young man held up his hands placatingly. When he spoke, it was clearly with a lot of nerves. The EMT recognized the rookie look in the eye. ¡°Where does she need to be?¡± He asked. ¡°Providence surgery.¡± The EMT said. ¡°But we can¡¯t¡­¡± He checked the vitals of the girl. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not. Simon! Hospital!¡± The young man called to his partner, who rapidly penned something down onto the notepad in his hand, and then hopped into the back of the ambulance, crowding the space a little too much. ¡°Who¡¯s coming with us?¡± The rookie asked. The EMT didn¡¯t understand the question. All he saw was the two new arrivals linking arms, one of them placing a hand on the back of the snake thing, the other reaching out to press a hand to the uninjured shoulder of the girl¡¯s body. But he got the implication. ¡°You have a way to get her there?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go.¡± The EMT said. The man extended a gloved hand to him, and the EMT took it. The kid was fucking *vibrating*, now that he made contact with him. The EMT wondered, perhaps, if this was more than just a first time nervous reaction. And then the other one ripped the page from their notepad, and the newcomers, the EMT, the snake, the girl, and the stretcher all disappeared in a crack of rushing air. ¡°Uh¡­¡± The driver, for the first time, didn¡¯t have anything to say. Maybe now was the time for panic? ¡°Dispatch?¡± They asked tentatively. ¡°Hold.¡± The voice came back through the speakers. And then, a second later, ¡°They¡¯ve arrived successfully. Our people will stay with them until surgery can begin. She¡¯ll be okay.¡± The words were said with a sigh of relief, a warmth spreading through the otherwise calculating conversation. The driver looked back at the empty bus. ¡°Okay. Good.¡± They said. ¡°Do you need anything else from me? I need to figure out how to¡­ explain this.¡± ¡°Good luck.¡± The voice of dispatch said. And then the line cleared. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The driver took a long breath. That was¡­ not what they were expecting? What *were* they expecting, then? If not some magical solution to the problem. That was, if nothing else, certainly magic. They looked down at the scrap of paper with four numbers written on it. Who the fuck were they? _____ James stared into the orange orb in the Lair¡¯s basement. It was suspended on the points of two three-sided pyramids, and it would have looked very cryptic and majestic, if it weren¡¯t for all the ropes and clamps holding the pyramids in place. ¡°What am I looking at here?¡± He asked Reed. ¡°A nonfunctional totem, mostly.¡± Reed replied. ¡°So, here¡¯s the deal. We copied the design of one of the hallway totems, as exactly as possible, and have recreated it here. It doesn¡¯t do anything. Like, at all. It¡¯s not even like one of Momo¡¯s degenerate red totems; it¡¯s just sitting there.¡± James rubbed his chin as he leaned closer to the orb. ¡°Hm. So there¡¯s a stumbling block in development, is what I¡¯m hearing.¡± ¡°I know this is important for your arcology plan, but yeah, we got nothin¡¯.¡± Reed admitted. ¡°I think there¡¯s internal parts we¡¯re not seeing. So, next delve, I¡¯d like to take a team to find one of these, and move the entire thing back with us. Sans orb, obviously.¡± ¡°I¡¯m honestly really glad you said that last part, because with you guys, it¡¯s never obvious.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± A half dozen various voices yelled at him from the Research side of the basement. Followed by Reed blushing as he ran a hand through his hair and said, ¡°Yeah, no, that checks out.¡± Pausing with his index finger pointed out toward where a desk had exploded last week, James stopped at Reed¡¯s admission, shut his mouth, and nodded. ¡°Okay, glad we got that cleared up.¡± He said. ¡°So, one entire totem, added to our growing shopping list. Anything else to report that I should know about?¡± ¡°Well, we got a working program out of one of the chips that JP and Nate requested.¡± ¡°They what?¡± James was instantly suspicious again. ¡°Yeah, they wanted something really specific. But it works perfectly! I think that the more specific we make the things, the better they get. So this one is kinda nice.¡± Reed nodded enthusiastically, pointedly not telling James what it did. James gave him a flat stare. ¡°What does it *do*?¡± He asked, only half wanting the answer. Reed cleared his throat, and looked around for help. But the rest of Research had abandoned their boss, suddenly all consumed by small tasks and tests. ¡°It finds the wireless signals that traffic cameras use, breaks into them, and streams the video feed.¡± The young man admitted to James. ¡°Oh. Okay, neat.¡± James said. ¡°You¡¯re not mad that that¡¯s super illegal?¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m furious. But mostly with JP. And since he¡¯s running our counterintel division now, I *fucking guess*, I¡¯m just gonna let him do his thing.¡± James growled some of the words. ¡°Anything that¡¯s less illegal and more ¡®this will make a magical arcology go¡¯?¡± He asked Reed in a normal voice that gave his head of Research mild emotional whiplash. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Reed looked down at his tablet and scrolled through the mess of notes he¡¯d left for himself and never organized. ¡°We¡¯ve got a microwave that adds nutritional content to food. But that¡¯s not an easily mass produced solution to anything. Oh, Sarah wanted me to pass on something to you about how her pet raincloud is doing well? I guess that¡¯s for, like, weather regulation?¡± Reed bit his lip as he stared at that line. ¡°Sorry, no. What?¡± ¡°Pet raincloud?¡± James echoed, mouth hanging open. ¡°Like¡­ I mean, I can think of a dozen uses for that, especially for indoor farming, but¡­ when did she¡­?¡± He looked around at Research, and called out, ¡°Has anyone talked to Sarah lately?¡± Head shakes and non-answers. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll look into that.¡± He sighed. ¡°Please don¡¯t blow up the building until I get home, okay?¡± He tossed his customary farewell over his shoulder as he headed for the elevator, grinning as he passed through the now colorfully lit balcony area around the elevator doors. After he¡¯d left, one of the people working on testing dungeon items caught Reed¡¯s eye. ¡°Does he¡­ not trust us?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, he does.¡± Reed said. ¡°I think. He just likes to keep us on our toes. Especially since there was that one time we accidentally a god.¡± Reed sipped at his coffee as the few people who hadn¡¯t been there bombarded him with questions. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m busy.¡± He said, studying his tablet and waving them off. ¡°Gotta go feed the shells. Everyone back to work!¡± He walked away, grinning to himself. He really saw why James got a kick out of doing this sort of thing. _____ It was roughly six in the morning when James¡¯ phone rang. Over the last few hours, real world time, James had been trying to grab a little sleep after the events of the last few hours, dungeon time. They¡¯d gone into Officium Mundi last night. Not everyone, but a lot of them. And while James hadn¡¯t been part of the group doing the hardest work and making a massive loop through their mapped area to pick up coffee and computer chips, he¡¯s still had his share of dangerous experiences. He and Anesh had learned that the top of Anesh¡¯s mage tower was still subject to the whims of wandering flying creatures. So far, the whole thing had been relatively safe, and nothing had wandered into the door zone even on the ground floor. But today, of all days, a half dozen sticky note masks had come screaming past in formation, disrupted the flock of paper airplanes perched around the windowsills, and made a sharp turn to wing their way through the windows of the top floor. They immediately attempted to tear Anesh¡¯s face off, and James and Ganesh had found themselves with their hands - or wings - full of angry papercuts as they grappled with and eventually destroyed the masks. [+2 Skill Ranks : Repair - Headphones - Wireless] [+1 Skill Rank : Cooking - Spice Balance] It had been a while since James had furiously cracked yellow orbs post combat, and the feeling was refreshing enough to make up for the lines of blood coating his hand. That was just the start of the night, though. After that, James had headed out with Theo of all people to do a little scouting and looting. His not-really-boss-anymore had asked, as politely as was possible for her, to spend some time in the Office. And it wasn¡¯t for any reason other than that her hours had been cut, and she needed to cover the cost of rent. James said yes, of course. Though he was up front about the fact that he wasn¡¯t interested in putting up with her hostile bullshit past the doors. And that the Order would prefer to pay out her whole loot share in cash, and keep anything magic she found. It wasn¡¯t an order or anything, but Theo was fine with that, so everyone got what they wanted. Well, James and Theo didn¡¯t get exactly what they wanted. They got ambushed by a plant at one point. And got in a fight with a copy machine. And Theo fell in what could best be described as a ¡®Sarlacc pit but with ballpoint pens¡¯. And there was a small mob of striders that tried to overwhelm them. [+1 Skill Rank : Literature - American - 19th Century] [+1 Skill Rank : Animals - Fish - Sea Bass] [+1 Skill Rank : Geography - Wales] [+1 Skill Rank : Drums] [+1 Skill Rank : Fabrication - Lenses] [+1 Skill Rank : Bureaucracy - Union - Australian] When they dragged themselves back into the fortified area around the base tower, they were bruised, tired, in Theo¡¯s case a little soggy, and also in possession of a couple backpacks full of miscellaneous stuff that would be fed into Research for dungeontech testing, and a pile of orbs. And eight hundred bucks, for Theo, which James added a couple fifties that he¡¯d found in a wallet to. He felt like it was more than worth the payment for her help today, and for getting him jumped ten points farther up on his biology Lesson. It had been nice to just talk to Theo for a while, too. She was way calmer about the whole ¡®existential threat to humanity¡¯ thing, since the dungeon hadn¡¯t done anything recently, and no one had told her about the whole thing with the school. James *had* filled her in, though reluctantly, and she¡¯d taken it pretty well. Theo was a good example of a normal person who was capable of dealing with this stuff, but just didn¡¯t want to be part of the role the Order was starting to create for themselves as guardians of reality. She just liked to worry a lot. Then James had been part of an ambush party that took out a stuffed shirt that wandered too close to the tower, and he¡¯d taken a monstrous elbow to the jaw that had left him reeling. They¡¯d taken out the employee, though, and the green orb it dropped had been duplicated, noted, and sent back to the Lair for testing. James had been gifted the purple orb they liberated from its pockets, as they weren¡¯t currently spending any extra resources copy testing those, and everyone else had harvested the yellows from the pack of shellaxies that had been following the stuffed shirt. [Shell Upgraded : -3 Nerve Weak Points] It was helpful that the Lair now served multiple thematic roles, because it really widened the scope of what the greens could do there. Sometimes in ridiculous ways. All of this was to say that James had been exhausted, and nearly fallen asleep sitting in the passenger seat as Anesh drove them home. Getting up the stairs had been a challenge, and getting past hugs from Auberdeen and Rufus had been a feat worthy of its own epic. After that, muddling through a shower and then flopping into bed to curl up around Anesh had seemed pretty simple. James had been out like a light, snuggled into his warm boyfriend to keep away the winter cold that had snuck into their apartment. And then, two hours later, his *phone rang*. ¡°Hrrrarrrguh!¡± Was approximately the word he moan-roared into it, his brain pulled out of sleep just before he¡¯d really gotten anything of use from it. ¡°Ah... ¡° There was an exclamation from the other end, a single note of worry and anxiety. James *felt* that. He¡¯d been there; calling people was rough. He should have checked his caller ID. ¡°Sorry. Reed, is that you? What¡¯s up?¡± He smacked the dust off of his tongue and spoke a little clearer, distangling his other arm from where Anesh had commandeered it as a pillow and sitting up in bed. ¡°No, I¡­ you left this number in my backpack. Like, a few months ago?¡± The hamster on the wheel in James¡¯ brain overclocked itself turning the gears of memory. Backpack¡­ phone number¡­ It suddenly clicked for him. The kid. The son of the camraconda¡¯s messianic figure. ¡°Williams?¡± ¡°Er, yeah. That¡¯s my last name.¡± The young man¡¯s voice replied. ¡°You said that I should call you when I was ready to talk.¡± James nodded to no one in particular. ¡°Probably.¡± His sleepy brain stalled for a second, and then he panickedly continued talking. ¡°Do you want to meet? I can¡­ get up¡­¡± He had a brilliant idea. ¡°Coffee. I should get coffee.¡± ¡°Now?¡± ¡°There¡¯s probably a coffee place open. It¡¯s¡­¡± James checked his phone. ¡°Goddamn six AM? Why six AM?¡± ¡°I thought you were a government office.¡± The kid, Williams, replied. James made a derisive noise that cause Anesh to roll over, drag half the blankets with him, and burrow into a pillow. ¡°There¡¯s a place down the street from where we met that sells doughnuts. I¡¯ll meet you there in half an hour.¡± He hung up, and after tugging on pants in a dark bedroom twice - the first time he guessed wrong on which side was ¡®forward¡¯ - James was back out into the freezing morning air. It was December at this point, unless he¡¯d lost track of the date again, so it would still be dark for another hour or two. And it would be cold for longer than that. The Pacific Northwest had never been high on the list of ¡°places that were pleasant around the holiday season¡±, but over the last decade, ongoing climate change had really solidified his home as somewhere that got cold, stayed cold, and probably had some icy rain in there for good measure. At least it wasn¡¯t snowing right now, and, James thought to himself as he drove through an intersection and into the parking lot of a small strip mall, at least there was a doughnut and bad coffee waiting for him. After James got his drink, delivered in a cardboard cup that felt structurally unsound, he realized his miscalculation. There was no indoor seating right now. It was forty degrees fahrenheit outside. And so, after about ten minutes of waiting, when the teenager arrived, it was to see James freezing his ass off on a wrought iron chair, ensconced in one of Anesh¡¯s scarves that his boyfriend had left in the car, and generally trying to think of any way to make it possible to punch the abstract concept of cold. ¡°Um¡­ are you who I¡¯m meeting?¡± James wanted to laugh, but he restrained himself to being mildly professional and polite instead. ¡°I refuse to believe anyone else would be out here.¡± He said, rising to his feet. ¡°I¡¯m James. Nice to meet you.¡± The teenager across from him, James realized, still looked like he was prepared to sprint away at any second. He had matted hair, shoes with holes in them, and a bruise on the side of his cheek that looked incredibly painful from what James could see of it poking out from around the kid¡¯s mask. ¡°Uh, sure.¡± He said in reply to James. And then a second later, made a decision. ¡°I¡¯m Morgan.¡± ¡°Hey Morgan. Do you want a doughnut? I welcome the opportunity to go inside.¡± The reply to that was *instant*. ¡°Okay.¡± No hesitation at all. ¡°So.¡± James said as the woman behind the counter got him another pair of blueberry cake doughnuts. The coffee was finally kicking in, and his brain was more or less working now. ¡°I suppose you want to know what happened.¡± ¡°Is mom¡­ is she alive?¡± Morgan asked. His voice cracked around the last word, and James saw the doughnut lady tilt her head just a bit. Conversations like this caught attention. James sighed as he paid for the doughnuts and a bottle of milk for the teen. ¡°No.¡± He sadly reported. ¡°She¡­ no.¡± They took the paper baggies the cashier handed them, and went back outside into the cold. ¡°Can you tell me what happened?¡± ¡°I mean, yeah. That¡¯s what I¡¯m here for.¡± James said. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°I thought you were a spy or something. Was my mom a spy?¡± ¡°No, she¡­ hm.¡± James trailed off, staring at the bright white and red lights of passing traffic as he thought for a second. ¡°Okay, I can¡¯t say she wasn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t know her. So maybe. Though if she was a spy, it was probably corporate espionage and not a government thing.¡± He glanced over to where Morgan had already devoured the first doughnut and was halfway through the bottle of milk. James wasn¡¯t sure what was going on in the kid¡¯s life, but if he was hungry enough to eat something that sugary through the grief of being told his mom was dead, then it couldn¡¯t be good. ¡°I¡¯m not a spy either, though I do run a secret organization that¡¯ll probably take over the world at some point.¡± James offhandedly offered, and was satisfyingly amused to see Morgan half choke on his next bite of cake. ¡°Did¡­¡± He took two shuffling steps away from James. ¡°Did you kill my mom?¡± ¡°No.¡± James said. ¡°And I want to explain everything to you, but I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll believe me. Because it¡¯s weird.¡± He looked over at the kid, who still looked ready to bolt, but at least hadn¡¯t run off yet. ¡°And I mean weird. I forget, sometimes, you know? How bizarre everything in my life is. But the fact that when I say ¡®sure, your mom coulda been a spy, I guess¡¯ I actually mean it? That¡¯s just¡­ that¡¯s because of how normal shit like that¡¯s gotten for me.¡± Morgan eyed him with the wary look of someone who understood that the adult was talking out his ass, but not exactly *why*. ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°Your mom fell out of reality, died, and accidentally started a society and a religion.¡± James said. ¡°...Nah, still don¡¯t know what the fuck you¡¯re talking about.¡± James had that feeling in his chest, even through the kind of groggy edges of sleep that were still dragging him down, that he got whenever he told someone about the magic in the world. There was still a very real argument to be made - and the members of the Order regularly had this argument - that the dungeons were not the only magic nonsense out there, that there were vampires and non-Momo witches and dragons and things. But when he got to do this, just blatantly tell someone these secrets, lift the veil a little and let someone slip over to his side, it was a really satisfying feeling. An excitement, to see how they¡¯d react, what they¡¯d say, and ultimately, if James had made the right call and added another ally to the growing roster of the Order of Endless Rooms. ¡°Tell you what.¡± He said, smiling behind his mask in a way he knew reached his eyes. ¡°How about I introduce you? That way, we can go inside, where I don¡¯t feel like my ears are going to fall off, and also we can get you some actual food. The Lair has a kitchen!¡± It took a little more than just that offer to break through Morgan¡¯s obvious suspicion of James. But there was a strong argument to be made with sandwiches and indoor heating, and before too long, they were driving that way in awkward silence. But eventually, James had to put aside his childish excitement, and bring up something important. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the deal.¡± He said. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t going to make a whole lot of sense, without context, so, I¡¯m gonna try to explain as best I can.¡± James took a deep breath, and tried to organize how he wanted to explain the situation. ¡°Your mom, in what she was doing, fought with and died to a number of creatures that were being puppeted by a larger power. With me so far?¡± Morgan thought for a second, but then nodded reluctantly. Talking about his mom¡¯s death wasn¡¯t a good place for him. James moved on quickly. ¡°Okay. Here¡¯s where it gets messy. Your mom *did something*. Something magical, that we haven¡¯t been able to recreate. And yeah, don¡¯t give me that look, I know what I said. I mean literal magic, not Hallmark movie magic.¡± He didn¡¯t even have to look over to reply to the scraggly teenager. ¡°Whatever she did, she turned that battlefield she died on, into a place the puppeteer couldn¡¯t reach. And all the creatures¡­¡± What was the word. How do you explain that? ¡°Woke up?¡± Morgan offered with a voice that sounded like rolling eyes, staring out the passenger window. ¡°Not at first. But eventually. Maybe it¡¯s better to say they grew up. Became people. They had to, because they were on their own.¡± James sighed. ¡°And they figured out what they¡¯d done. And then¡­ well, it¡¯s been years, right?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Morgan didn¡¯t move, balled up in the passenger seat, staring out the window as he replied. ¡°Three years, I guess. Not that I cared. Or anything.¡± ¡°Kid, let me tell you something. You don¡¯t have to posture or lie to me. Or anyone you¡¯re gonna meet today. We¡¯ve got trauma coming out our ears. Hell, we have a dedicated therapist!¡± Morgan looked over at him. ¡°Why?¡± Clearing his throat, James admitted, ¡°Partially because we rescued her from certain death, but *also* because therapy is a useful tool to deal with painful memories.¡± He bit his lip as he flicked his turn signal on and moved them over a lane. ¡°And I choose to believe she hangs around with us because we¡¯re cool.¡± ¡°Are you?¡± ¡°Oh, absolutely.¡± James grinned. But then he let the smile drift off as a more serious sadness came over him. ¡°But look, what I¡¯m saying is¡­ it¡¯s not their fault. I don¡¯t need you to promise to be happy about it, or accept them, but I do need you to agree to not lash out.¡± ¡°Them? Wait, the things that¡­ you¡­?¡± ¡°Three years is a long time.¡± James muttered. ¡°Long enough for someone in a cool overcoat to find a bunch of trapped souls, and pluck them out of their prison.¡± He pulled them into the parking lot of the Lair, and Morgan jolted in his seat a little bit, like he hadn¡¯t expected them to arrive so fast, or perhaps that he hadn¡¯t noticed the building until the car was on top of it. ¡°Your coat is stupid.¡± He said, defiantly. James didn¡¯t rise to the bait, instead turning the most serious look he had on the kid. ¡°...Fine.¡± Eventually came out of his mouth. ¡°Great.¡± Was all James said as he cracked his door open, let the hot air that had just started building up flood out into the morning cold, and started walking toward the building¡¯s front doors. Morgan hesitated, but James didn¡¯t turn back, and just before he reached the entrance, he heard a car door slamming behind him and rapid footsteps on the asphalt. Coming back to the Lair was always a happy experience for James. Even after the attack, even after *everything*, this was where he was building something magical, and he loved it. It was also where most of the camracondas hung out, which made the upcoming confrontation *immensely awkward* to him. And, on top of that, again, James was *tired*. So his emotional palette currently was a bit of a jumble. But he pushed the door open, and held it for Morgan all the same. There was one camraconda there to greet them as they came through the security doors. Standing guards weren¡¯t something the Order did much of these days; James knew for a fact that Harvey had a billion and one cameras wired up around the place, and there would be at least one intelligence watching out for anything dangerous at all times. And yet, despite that, he had somehow never come through the door to *not* be greeted by one of the serpents. ¡°Hey Barkdust.¡± James said as he brushed past Morgan, who had frozen in place at the sight of the snake. ¡°Good morning, paladin.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said formally. ¡°I regret sharing that word so much.¡± James whispered to himself through gritted teeth. ¡°Morgan, this is Texture-Of-Barkdust. Barkdust, this is Morgan. He¡¯s¡­¡± And now James faltered again. How to sum it up? ¡°He¡¯s her family.¡± The camraconda got James¡¯ meaning almost instantly, and before Morgan could get over his apprehension at the giant talking snake-shaped nightmare that had just said good morning to him, Texture-Of-Barkdust executed a low bow that ended with him basically prostrating himself before the teenager, the arc of the camraconda¡¯s neck the only part of it sticking up into the air. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Morgan whispered fearfully. ¡°That¡¯s Texture-Of-Barkdust.¡± James said, worryingly looking down at the camraconda. ¡°And I have an instinctual desire to tell him not to bow to anyone, but I also don¡¯t want to be a jerk here. Um¡­ can you go tell the Priestess we¡¯re here?¡± James asked the camraconda. ¡°I need to get Morgan a sandwich.¡± ¡°Yesssss.¡± The serpent¡¯s digital voice hissed out, and he sprung into action, lunging toward the elevator at a pace James had really only seen from the snakes during combat operations. A long silence passed as James took Morgan back to the kitchen. They passed Harvey on the way, the man¡¯s face now sporting dark lines that still managed to stand out on his black skin. He was carrying a cup of coffee, and had his ¡®I am busy go away¡¯ aura up, so James just nodded at him as he slipped back into the dispatch room where at least a couple people were on call for the Response team. They¡¯d been getting more calls lately. James wasn¡¯t sure they were ready. But now wasn¡¯t the time for that. As he flicked on half the lights in the darkened kitchen, and cracked open the walk-in to see if there was anything edible and ready to go on the speed rack, he heard Morgan thump his elbows down on one of the counters, and say, ¡°You weren¡¯t joking.¡± ¡°Kid, let me tell you something. I am almost always joking in some way.¡± James said as he slid a plate of tuna sandwich, fruit, and potato salad toward Morgan. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m lying.¡± Morgan looked at him with an almost terrified expression, and Jame sighed. ¡°Please eat. I know you¡¯re worried, but I swear that you¡¯re safe here. And the camracondas¡­ they¡¯re called camracondas, by the way, because I must make puns¡­ they¡¯re not your enemy.¡± ¡°They did it.¡± Morgan said around a mouthful of tuna. ¡°Killed¡­¡± ¡°Yeah. Well, I mean, one, or maybe a few, of them did. They don¡¯t remember it very well. And a lot of them have died since then.¡± ¡°How many are there?¡± ¡°Forty six left.¡± James said quietly. ¡°And¡­¡± He stopped himself. The kid didn¡¯t need to know about the orbs in the basement. About the souls kept in reserve. ¡°Forty six.¡± James swallowed his words. ¡°Is she here?¡± ¡°Your mom?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James nodded. ¡°They¡­ the camracondas have a thing they can do, where they sort of freeze something they¡¯re looking at. It¡¯s weird, and doesn¡¯t obey the laws of physics, and they¡¯ve kept your mom¡¯s body frozen that way ever since¡­¡± He trailed off again. ¡°It¡¯s in one of our basements, if you¡¯d like to see her.¡± ¡°Will they be there?¡± Morgan looked back at the kitchen door. ¡°I can ask them to leave. Their priestess will be, though. There¡¯s always at least one attendant for your mom.¡± James spoke softly. Morgan looked like he was about to cry, and James pushed himself off the counter he was leaning on, dusting off his hands on his coat. ¡°Hey, how about this? You don¡¯t need to make a choice right now. I¡¯ve got some work to do, or a nap on my desk to take, either one. You eat. I¡¯ll have everyone stay out of the kitchen. If you want to go, that¡¯s fine. You can take any food you want, and we can always let you in if you need a place. Kid, you don¡¯t look good, and I¡¯m worried about you.¡± James added that last part almost reflexively. ¡°If you need to stay here, we¡¯ve got bedrooms in the basements. Whatever you choose, just¡­ you¡¯re safe here, okay?¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± Morgan whispered. ¡°There are people around.¡± James told him. ¡°And to be clear, the camracondas *are people*. But if you¡¯re not comfortable with that, there¡¯s always at least one human here. Nate¡¯ll be in at some point, just tell him I said it was okay, and he¡¯ll grumble but otherwise be okay with you being here. Probably he¡¯ll try to teach you how to make potatoes. That¡¯s just what he does. Anyway, the point is, if you need to find me when you¡¯re ready, someone will know.¡± James stepped out of the kitchen when Morgan didn¡¯t reply, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he clamped his eyes shut and let out a long sigh, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling in anxiety. Until movement caught his eye, and he looked down. There were perhaps thirty camracondas sitting in the dining room, curled up in ranks in a semicircle around the kitchen door, waiting silently. ¡°Not now, everyone.¡± James spoke quietly, trying not to draw attention. ¡°He needs some time.¡± He¡¯d almost expected the camracondas to argue. But for all that they had built their beliefs around this one kid¡¯s mother, for all the silent zeal they showed in rushing to appear before him, James had once again forgotten that the camracondas weren¡¯t human. Their idea of religion wasn¡¯t the same as his, in a dozen small ways and even more large ones. They didn¡¯t have the same history, the same ideas, even the same sense of society. So when he said that Morgan needed space, the camracondas nodded, as one, took him at his word, and dispersed rapidly. A rainbow of green, grey, and blue cables flowing like a river out of the common room. And James followed them. He¡¯d give the kid space, too. And hopefully, when Morgan was ready, he¡¯d be willing to talk to the camracondas. They¡¯d been waiting for years to know who had saved them. Chapter 136 ¡°So what does a perfect person do with unlimited strength? They get better. And they get stronger.¡± - Matt, Superman and the Utility Of Strength - Morgan woke up in an actual bed, for the first time in a week. And despite the perfect warm embrace of the worn brown cloth comforter that he was wrapped in, he sat bolt upright as soon as his eyes opened. Hair that was a little too long tangling around his neck and face as he tried to remember where the hell he was. Then his eyes settled on the glowing red orb on the nightstand, casting a strangely comfortable aura of light around the room, and it all came flooding back. He¡¯d met with someone who didn¡¯t seem entirely sane. And he¡¯d gotten news about his mom. And then, he¡¯d gotten¡­ not answers, really. Morgan had more questions than ever. What was this place, who were these people, what kind of monsters were those snakes, why did they think he was so important, why was everyone here so *nice*? Did he actually want to talk to them? He didn¡¯t need to. James had tried to make that clear, and the snake things had vanished when he¡¯d told them Morgan needed space. He could just leave. And a very big part of him wanted to. His chest hurt, and not just from the bruises. She was dead. His mom was dead. Not ¡®maybe¡¯ anymore, not ¡®missing¡¯ or ¡®presumed¡¯ anything. She was gone. Her body was in the other basement. He could see her if he wanted to. And the feeling was so painful, so hard to even touch the edges of with his thoughts. Morgan had cried himself to sleep last night, and only stopped now for lack of tears. He could leave, and forget it all. Put it behind him, and just strike out with a new start at life. Or he could stay here. Multiple people had said it was okay. No one was going to kick him out. He didn¡¯t have to go back to sneaking food out of the shitty apartment he technically shared with his dad, sleeping at friend¡¯s places or under the bleachers behind the high school, and being afraid all the time. Well, maybe he¡¯d still be afraid. The snakes scared the shit out of him. He¡¯d seen them around, some of them watching him, some of them trying very hard to pretend not to. Morgan just didn¡¯t get how everyone could be so okay with the things being all over the building. They were monsters. They could freeze people by looking at them. They¡¯d killed people. He¡¯d said as much to Nate when the chef had asked if he¡¯d had any questions. The stocky, tattooed man had just given him a level stare, and asked, ¡°What do you think makes us any different?¡± Snakes or humans. Everything in this building was worth being nervous about. But even with all that. He could still stay here. And there was just so much to be curious about! Even if he didn¡¯t want to talk to the things that killed his mom, he still *needed* to know what was going on here. The curiosity in the back of his head that never shut up pushing him to stop being such a coward, and ask a million questions about this building, these people, and his place in all of it. Morgan fully sat up, pushing the blankets away, and getting dressed. His own clothes were off somewhere else; either being washed or burned, depending on if the girl he¡¯d talked to had been joking. But there was a dresser here that was stocked with basics that he was told he was welcome to. He avoided the sundresses, though. Not his style, and they seemed more personal. For all the fear and sorrow he¡¯d spent yesterday grappling with, he felt *better*. Better than he had in months. He had a real answer now, not just more uncertainty. He¡¯d been fed, more than one meal in a day even. He¡¯d gotten real sleep. James wasn¡¯t a perfect person, wasn¡¯t all powerful, and made some stupid decisions sometimes. But he understood one thing very closely. If you took away someone¡¯s anxieties about basic survival - food, water, warmth, shelter - then it didn¡¯t take long for that person to be able to take a breather, and make rational decisions without panic over where their next sandwich came from. Morgan took a deep breath, and opened the door to the small basement room that he¡¯d been set up in. In the concrete corridor outside, lit by blueish fluorescent ceiling lights, waiting patiently between a hand truck and a sheaf of folded cardboard boxes that were left in the hall, three camracondas faced him. One of them larger than the others, one of them with a blue-green patterning that looked almost like a normal snake. All of them watching him. Morgan paused. The snakes bowed. To him. ¡°Oy!¡± A girl¡¯s voice bounced around the concrete walls. ¡°We talked about this!¡± Morgan glanced to his left, to see a short girl with half a head of bright blue hair, stomping toward the camracondas with a furious scowl on her face. She was wearing literal wizard robes, too, and¡­ no, wait; Morgan corrected himself. She was wearing a black bathrobe, and looked like she¡¯d either just awoken herself, or hadn¡¯t slept at all in the last week. One of the camracondas spoke, jolting him back to the situation. ¡°We are¡­¡± the snake looked around itself, camera eye settling on the bundle of cardboard boxes behind them. ¡°...Packing.¡± It lied. The girl - Momo, Morgan was pretty sure her name was - stared at the three snakes. And suddenly, he understood how his mom had felt every time he¡¯d lied about doing his homework in the least convincing way possible. She didn¡¯t have to speak to emit the feeling of someone crossing their arms and saying ¡°Really.¡± The snakes withered under the look she gave them. Something about it was just so¡­ Morgan wanted to say ¡®human¡¯, but that word clearly wasn¡¯t as all encompassing as he¡¯d thought. But they were people. Kids, almost. They reminded him of the freshmen at school, doing stupid stuff in obvious ways and obviously getting caught. Before he knew it, he found himself grinning. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± He said, almost tripping over his words as he took the initiative in conversation for the first time in a while. ¡°They¡¯re not hurting anyone.¡± Momo gave him a side glance, and he saw her silently snort a laugh at the shirt he was wearing. ¡°You sure?¡± Momo asked after he humor passed. ¡°What¡¯s so funny about my shirt?¡± Morgan demanded. ¡°Nothing, nothing. It¡¯s¡­ classic rock is great.¡± Her voice started to crack with giggles. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get you breakfast, and then you can figure out what your day looks like.¡± Morgan gave a confused, worried look to the camracondas who still hadn¡¯t left and were still glancing at him when they thought he wasn¡¯t looking. The three of them took in his shirt too, but all of them put off the aura of a shrug, which was impressive without shoulders. He glanced down again at the worn band logo he was wearing. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with The Doors?¡± Morgan muttered to himself as he followed Momo. And found, he¡¯d already made his decision, without really thinking about it. _____ ¡°Yo! JP!¡± Dave called after his friend, jogging to catch up with where JP was already heading for the front door of the Lair. He was panting, a little out of breath, having jogged down here from where he¡¯d landed Pendragon on the roof after spotting JP hauling a suitcase into his car¡¯s trunk. JP glanced back, and gave a crooked half-grin at his friend. He was wearing a goddam suit, some kind of tan and white creation that made him look like he was trying to join the Rat Pack. ¡°Hey buddy!¡± He greeted Dave with a friendly clap on the shoulders. ¡°What¡¯cha been up to?¡± ¡°Lots of stuff.¡± Dave shrugged. ¡°Flying people around with Pen, doing some aerial reconnaissance, looking for land we might want to buy for James¡¯ city thing. Also watching The Expanse.¡± ¡°I hear that¡¯s fun.¡± JP nodded sagely. ¡°I mean, flying doesn¡¯t really get old.¡± Dave grinned at him, as JP caught up to the reply to the wrong part of the conversation and swatted at him. ¡°Are you leaving again?¡± The last words were said with a fair bit of unhidden disappointment. Not that Dave was ever good at, or inclined to, hide anything about how he felt. But still. Even as a lot of people were settling into new roles in the Order, like the new girl who was casually slipping into the back behind where Dave was talking to his friend, some people were spending less and less time actually around. Dave was one of them, honestly, but since JP was too, the two of them hadn¡¯t really gotten to hang out in a long while. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m off to¡­ well, it¡¯s probably best if I get in the habit of keeping stuff secret.¡± JP mournfully added the last part flipping up his collar and turning away sadly. ¡°Oh get fucked!¡± Dave told him with a bark of laughter. JP laughed back, turning back and setting down the briefcase he was carrying as he leaned against one of the chairs out here in the main lobby. ¡°Yeah, yeah. But seriously; I¡¯m investigating something, and it might actually be a good idea to not spread it around too much. Heading down to Utah, looking into a cult there.¡± ¡°Again? Always with the cults with you.¡± ¡°Hey, someone¡¯s gotta do the intelligence work.¡± JP said. ¡°You wanna make James a spy? Huh?¡± Dave thought for a second, then his eyes widened and he shook his head rapidly. ¡°Noooo, I remember that time Anesh tried to run an espionage RPG. James kept breaking people¡¯s legs. It¡¯d just be that but he¡¯d be more frustrated.¡± ¡°Exactly! Also, where is Anesh anyway?¡± JP asked, glancing around, and spotting the new girl from before now leaving the warehouse area and sprinting back around past the elevator, and down the corridor toward the dining room. Dave shrugged and sighed in equal measure. ¡°Eh. Everyone¡¯s always gone now. I barely see you guys anymore. I miss D&D! I miss arguing about anime!¡± ¡°You are the only one who misses that second one.¡± JP informed him politely. ¡°Also, how can Anesh be gone all the time? I know for a fact there¡¯s three of him, even if one is out of state.¡± ¡°He¡¯s busy with things.¡± Dave told him. ¡°I dunno. Experiments? Math, I guess? Making out with James?¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t make me imagine that.¡± JP grimaced. Dave pressed the attack. ¡°Oh, come on. They¡¯re our friends. They¡¯re cuuuuute.¡± He sidled up to JP and elbowed him in the ribs. ¡°You¡¯re just mad you don¡¯t have a magical boyfriend.¡± ¡°I am mad that *I* am not a magical boyfriend.¡± JP retaliated. ¡°Watching my friends kissing is weird. It¡¯s always weird, because they always break up eventually, and then there¡¯s¡­ fewer friends.¡± His voice dipped down into actual concern and not just friendly mocking for a minute. JP didn¡¯t make friends easily. JP made contacts, business partners, dates, and marks easily. Those didn¡¯t always turn into friends, or even long term connections. His last girlfriend was dating a snake now, which *sorta* hurt his sense of masculinity. ¡°Whatever. When you get back from Utah, we should do a thing.¡± Dave suggested. He gave an excited inhalation; ¡°Oooh! We should start a board game night!¡± ¡°Oh, sorry, I¡¯m busy. I have work that day.¡± JP countered, picking up his briefcase and stepping back. ¡°I didn¡¯t say what¡­¡± JP nodded at him. ¡°Yeah, I get ya.¡± He cut his friend off. ¡°It¡¯s just so important that someone be scouting out any potential new threats or allies. I knew you¡¯d understand.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­¡± Dave gave a comically annoyed shake of his head. ¡°Anyway, you should probably deal with that. Good talking to you!¡± JP pointed over Dave¡¯s shoulder, and he turned around to see a small collection of four or five of their new members, all jogging toward the warehouse, and presumably, the roof access. ¡°Dragon dragon dragon dragon¡­¡± Dave heard a couple of them quietly chanting as they hustled past. He sighed. ¡°I should deal with that.¡± He turned around. ¡°You be¡­¡± JP was gone, the front door swinging shut behind him with not a trace of the weasel left. ¡°...safe. Alright, yeah, I value your friendship too, jackass.¡± Dave rolled his eyes. ¡°Now I¡¯m just standing here talking to myself. James has been influencing me too much. Great. Okay.¡± In all truth, Dave saw the point. It was important that they have a diplomatic wing of the Order, even though that¡¯s absolutely not what JP had said or implied. But you couldn¡¯t do diplomacy without knowing who the players on the board were. And making contact was the most important step. Were they alone? No one knew. But being part of a secret group that most people simply wouldn¡¯t believe the truth of could feel very isolating. And really, while Dave was a bit miffed that JP had just Batman-exited on him, he did understand his friend¡¯s desire to get moving. There was a whole world out there to explore. Presumably some of it would, eventually, be friendly. _____ James had drug a couch into the back operations area, what had used to be a warehouse and was now a chaotic mess of desks and whiteboards. Maps of the Office dungeon, briefing spaces, and a whole third of the floor space partitioned off for use fabricating the armor and weapons that it was easier or more possible to make than to buy. And a couch. Because James was reading, and he felt like relaxing while he did it. His office was nice and all, but it was¡­ an office. It was not a good place for careful study. His office was where he had printouts of dry thesis statements on things like ¡®Accounting for Human Needs vs Technical Concerns¡¯ and ¡®Use of Color in Urban Environments¡¯. Things he needed to have a grasp of, but not exactly mastery over. Here, on this couch, in this mostly dark room where the only distraction was a group of people running toward the roof access yelling the word ¡®dragon¡¯ over and over, was where he could read things for fun. In the past, James¡¯ idea of fun was science fiction. Today, his hobby was trying to build a science fiction future as a reality, so his idea of fun had shifted a little. He was reading a book about silly things that people took for granted in city design. It was witty, lighthearted, and made him realize that no matter what they did, he was going to get so many things ¡®wrong¡¯ at some point. Not, like, oops-the-arcology-is-on-fire wrong, but more like not-quite-enough-stairs wrong, or mildly-inconvenient-statuary wrong. Fun wrong. He¡¯d had, early on, this vision for an arcology powered by magic and human compassion. Some kind of stalwart structure, towering over the landscape, a beacon for a better world that contained that world in microcosm within its walls. And as time had gone by, that vision had only gotten more ambitious, not less. More magic, more people of more species, more solutions to problems that really shouldn¡¯t exist in the world. Then, when other members of the Order had started to come around on his dreams of megaproject habitats, they¡¯d started to actually¡­ start. He¡¯d had help, and people to push him forward, and suddenly the project wasn¡¯t just a dream, it was something they were *working on*. He¡¯d had a virtual meeting earlier today with a man who ran a contractor company that mostly specialized in building sewer systems. That had been an eye opening experience, learning exactly how much space and effort was devoted to building pipe networks. Then, there¡¯d been answering emails from a few freelance architects and graphic designers, answering questions about the details of the project that they¡¯d been hired for, sketching out a practical but beautiful vision for the design of some of the concourse areas. They were doing this. Maybe not all at once. Maybe it would take a decade or five. But they were *doing this*. An arcology. The term went back to the sixties, when a designer had coined it as a combination of architecture and ecology, to discuss planned communities and cities that were ideal human habitats that didn¡¯t damage the environment. The vision James and the Order were working on went a step farther, working to build a government, a society, that intentionally maximized human happiness. Their plan right now was to construct a self-contained, self-sufficient city, using combinations of human engineering mastery, and dungeontech exploits, that would be capable of sustaining a population of a million people. As a proof of concept. And then, do it again. And better. James got lost sometimes, in the absolute scale of humanity. There were almost nine billion people on the planet. Building something that would be good for everyone wasn¡¯t really possible for just him, or just the Order. And the plan wasn¡¯t to pack all of mankind into arcology structures and abandon the rest of the world. It was more to undo the damage done by suburban sprawl and heavy industrialization, to create environments that minimized waste, minimized emissions. And hopefully, to do it before modern humanity wrecked the natural environment beyond repair. It turned out, nine billion humans could do a lot of damage under certain conditions. Earth, at this point, was basically just a large scale version of the Tragedy of the Commons. Again, the scale of a lot of problems was so far outside what James could easily wrap his head around, it was hard to see where to start on solutions. But they had to start somewhere. So, a perfect city. Or at least, a better city. And in the meantime, they¡¯d keep working to protect people, to save lives, to help where they could. ¡°What¡¯re you reading?¡± Dave¡¯s voice snapped James out of his wandering thoughts. ¡°Uh?¡± He looked up, eyes refocusing as he glanced down at the book propped open on his chest. ¡°Oh, hey. I guess I¡¯m not really reading anything, I¡¯m half napping. But the book is about default design choices. What¡¯s up? I didn¡¯t hear you come in.¡± ¡°Impossible. I said hi to you when I got here.¡± ¡°Not from the roof, you asshole. I knew you were *in the building*. I mean, what brings you to my reading cave?¡± James rolled his eyes. Dave gave a single short laugh and a smug smile, which James had to remind himself only looked smug, and wasn¡¯t actually hostile or anything. ¡°I¡¯m just here on Response shift.¡± He said. ¡°And I was talking to JP. You know he¡¯s trying to spy on people?¡± Dave asked. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. James bit his tongue a bit before answering. ¡°Yeeeeah, I dunno how to feel about that. I think he and Nate want to form a¡­ I dunno how to phrase this, but a bastards division?¡± James pushed himself up off the couch and leaned over the back of it while he talked. ¡°I don¡¯t mind having some kind of intelligence happening around here - gods know I don¡¯t have much myself to spare - but I don¡¯t want them recreating the CIA, you know? Like, my utopian future has us eventually peacefully replacing governments, not backing violent coups against them.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you can do better than the government.¡± Dave bluntly told him. ¡°Well of course *I* can¡¯t.¡± James protested. ¡°Also, hey, rude. But it¡¯s not about any one person doing better or worse; it¡¯s about building a system that¡¯s for everyone, that fixes large scale problems instead of causing them.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Dave said. ¡°By the way, who are the new people that just came through?¡± James grinned and dropped back to the couch cushions before rolling off onto the floor and bouncing to his feet. ¡°The ones who just scrambled to the roof to fawn over Pendragon?¡± He asked rhetorically. ¡°Mars and Chevoy are engineers, Marcy is a talk therapist that¡¯ll be on site for us when Lua isn¡¯t around and is also taking a shift on Response as a dispatcher, and Pete is one of our interns.¡± ¡°And they just get to¡­ run around unsupervised? You aren¡¯t afraid any of them are someone else¡¯s version of JP?¡± ¡°That¡¯s delightfully suspicious.¡± James snorted. ¡°But yeah. I¡¯ll admit it. I¡¯m kinda worried about that, especially now that you said it out loud and put that evil in the world. But we need more people, we need to grow. And we are running background checks and calling references and then going one step farther and doing a little digging into people. And we¡¯ll be careful. You know, not start people off by handing them a skulljack and a gun and telling them to go nuts, right?¡± ¡°James, you literally did that with Virgil.¡± ¡°First off, Virgil was awes¡­ grea¡­ Virgil was *very proficient* at¡­¡± ¡°You can just say he was a dick.¡± ¡°...he was great though.¡± James said with a soft smile, and he and Dave let the words hang for a moment as they remembered their fallen comrade. ¡°But seriously. I still don¡¯t know how he convinced Neil to give him a skulljack on day one. But it was the right call. And for all that he bulldozed his way through social situations, he was a good person. So yeah, I wouldn¡¯t mind if maybe we had a few people who we overtrusted, who ended up paying off.¡± Dave didn¡¯t look convinced. The opposite, if anything. ¡°What if they betray us? Or worse, just take the powers we hand out, and start using them for evil?¡± ¡°Evil is kind of a vaguely defined thing, but I get what you mean.¡± James nodded. ¡°I mean, what do you want, tracking chips in every member of the Order?¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James coughed a little bit, dropping the book he was idly spinning in his hands back onto the couch. ¡°Uh¡­ no. No, we won¡¯t be doing that. For one thing, it¡¯s a huge security risk.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure Research can figure something out. Get the new people to work on it.¡± ¡°The new people¡­ that you want to put tracking chips in¡­?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Dave¡­ no.¡± James pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Look, I get that there¡¯s a risk. But we *have* security protocols, we¡¯re getting better about this. And at the end of the day, trusting people is really the only way we get the world that we want. I¡¯m sure some people are going to lie to us, try to screw us over. I¡¯m also sure that they¡¯ll be able to do it a lot easier if we already don¡¯t trust each other.¡± Dave thought about it for a second, and then nodded. ¡°Okay, I get that. So no tracking chips?¡± ¡°You *really* want the Order knowing when you¡¯re using the bathroom?¡± James demanded. ¡°I have changed my mind about the tracking chips.¡± Dave conceded. _____ Morgan was having breakfast with a snake. It was a bizarre experience. There were a few other people at different tables in the cafeteria, but none of them bothered him. There were a *lot* of the camraconda things around this building, Morgan was noticing. And all of them were always looking at him when they thought he didn¡¯t notice. And when he¡¯d come out of the kitchen, having been exiled by the chef that was seemingly omnipresent in his stained apron and gruff expression, he¡¯d seen one of the camracondas sitting and gently picking at a plate of carrots. So, swallowing the ball of nerves in his throat, Morgan had sat down across from him¡­ her? It? Whatever the snake was. A plate of eggs and toast had joined the snack of carrots, and Morgan noticed then that the camraconda had a tablet on the table too that it was flicking with its tongue to scroll through the text. It had glanced up at him, done a slight double take, and then given a greeting in halting English. Morgan had said hi back, and then they¡¯d settled into uncomfortable silence as he¡¯d eaten. Eventually, though, he had to ask. ¡°Is it¡­ hard to read that without hands?¡± Morgan spoke, and then instantly wished he could take the words back, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. The camraconda looked back up, the aperture of its eye narrowing slightly as it focused on him. ¡°Yes.¡± It said, digital voice coming out of the speakers it wore on its sides. ¡°Not made for us.¡± The fact that it just took the question at face value made Morgan feel a little better. He was trying to figure out how to ask if it would rather have a better tablet, or hands, when a bunch of other laughing humans drew his attention to the hallway into the rest of the Lair. Four people, all of them looking a little bit out of breath like they¡¯d just been for a jog, made their way back into the room laughing and chatting. They reclaimed a nearby table that had coats and half-eaten food on it, with a couple of them glancing over at Morgan. In fact, he noticed, they did exactly the thing the camracondas did. ¡°Okay,¡± He leaned forward and quietly spoke to the snake he had been sharing a table with, trying not to be noticed by the others, ¡°I get why you guys do the glancing thing. But why are *they* looking at me strangely?¡± The camraconda looked up from its reading, and pivoted its head in a wide arc to take in the table next to them. ¡°Ah.¡± It said. ¡°Those are new.¡± ¡°So am I, though.¡± Morgan protested. ¡°Those not know. Also, those are very¡­¡± The camraconda paused, before settling on the word it wanted, ¡°...*excitable*.¡± The way it emphasized the word with reverb made Morgan crack a smile. Then the camraconda nudged aside its tablet, and looked back at him. ¡°I am Color-Of-Dawn.¡± It said. Morgan nodded, before the manners his mom had drilled into him for fifteen years took effect. ¡°Oh! I¡¯m Morgan. Nice to meet you.¡± He said it almost automatically, and extended a hand to shake on autopilot. Color-Of-Dawn looked down at the offered hand, and Morgan¡¯s eyes followed. ¡°Uh¡­¡± He pulled back, blushing a furious red. ¡°You already know, I have zero hands.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± Morgan dropped his head to the table and tried to burrow into the sleeves of his shirt. ¡°Not mad.¡± Color-Of-Dawn replied. ¡°Amuse.¡± Morgan peeked up, keeping his head on the table. It was¡­ difficult for him to tell. The serpent *said* it was amused, but it lacked any kind of facial features to read. Unless the head tilt meant something. ¡°I still feel bad. And I don¡¯t wanna be¡­ I dunno.¡± ¡°You are new.¡± The camraconda nodded in a bobbing motion. ¡°You will learn.¡± ¡°If I decide to stay.¡± Morgan added, giving voice to his internal questioning. ¡°I dunno if I can¡­ be here. I guess.¡± ¡°Understand.¡± Color-Of-Dawn told him. The camraconda had set aside its reading entirely, and was now entirely focused on their conversation, though it took a moment to flip another carrot into its mouth and crunch down on it. Morgan saw rows of fangs made of what looked like pen tips, shredding the vegetable. ¡°Really? You seem kinda at home. I mean, this is your home, right?¡± He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Color-Of-Dawn made a wavering motion with its head, and Morgan got the impression it was shrugging. ¡°New here. New everywhere.¡± It turned the volume of its voice down, and the lower tone sounded sad in contrast. ¡°Could leave, but where? Here is home, but did not choose.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Morgan said. ¡°I guess¡­ I understand. James sort of explained what happened to you.¡± He said, trying not to pick at anything uncomfortable. ¡°I guess you can¡¯t really leave, huh?¡± ¡°Could leave!¡± Somehow, Color-Of-Dawn infused its voice with indignation. ¡°Like it here. But. Unsure.¡± ¡°It¡¯s got good food.¡± Morgan admitted. ¡°And everyone is¡­¡± ¡°Kind.¡± The camraconda finished. ¡°But.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Morgan realized that he¡¯d opened up to one of the creatures he¡¯d been afraid of an hour ago, almost without thinking about it. And, beyond that, felt like he actually understood Color-Of-Dawn, and was understood by it, more than any of the humans he¡¯d talked to in the last day. He finished his eggs, while the camraconda went back to its reading, and the two of them fell into a more comfortable silence. _____ ¡°Daniel!¡± James cheerfully answered his cell phone. ¡°How ya been? How¡¯s your camping trip?¡± There was a moment of dead air in reply. ¡°...What?¡± Daniel¡¯s voice came back with confusion so thick that even the bad audio quality on James¡¯ phone picked it up. ¡°You¡¯re on vacation, right?¡± James asked, momentum faltering. ¡°No?¡± Daniel¡¯s voice was uncertain. ¡°I went camping last month, though? Is that what you¡¯re thinking of?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± James replied, now confident that he wasn¡¯t imagining things. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Officium Mundi agents.¡± Daniel said, and James felt his heart rate spike as Daniel spoke. ¡°A lot of them, this time. And, you¡¯ll like this, Tyrone is pretty sure he¡¯s got the breach point down. So that¡¯s cool.¡± ¡°No! Not cool!¡± James snapped. ¡°What are you talking about, agents?! Stuffed shirts? And you¡¯re just¡­ letting them go?¡± ¡°Pff. No.¡± Daniel gave a nervous chuckle, and then, after a pause, his tone got apologetic. ¡°Oh, right! You were in a coma when we started this! God, I¡¯m sorry. No, we figured out which cars are dungeon constructs, and put GPS trackers in them! Fuck, my bad. I didn¡¯t mean to panic you; we know where they are.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± James said, already heading to the elevator to the basement that housed their armory, ¡°and what about if they¡¯re out here to *kill people*?¡± James demanded. Officium Mundi, that magical existence beyond the stairwell doors in an otherwise normal office building that the Order explored and exploited for powers beyond mortal ability, was, sadly, not stupid. Or, if it was stupid, it was on a very different scale than human stupidity. It had access to a lot of information that it maybe otherwise shouldn¡¯t, like when it tried to intercept and kill potential employees of the mundane office building if they were delvers in other dungeons. How could it know that those people were going to be interviewed, or had exposure to other dungeons in the first place? Where did *its* intel come from? Regardless of how it knew the things it knew, though, it was actually quite possibly their best source of new knowledge. Because the last time it had tried to kill someone, it had led the Order directly to the Akashic Sewer. And after that, well¡­ Things had gotten weird. Which didn¡¯t detract from the very important point that the *office dungeon sometimes tried to assassinate people*, which was what James had challenged Daniel on. ¡°I know it might be a problem!¡± Daniel responded, indignant. ¡°That¡¯s why I called you! You¡¯re¡­ the person to call! Right? Like, you can stop them?¡± James sighed as the elevator doors opened. ¡°We can do what we do best.¡± He said. ¡°Call Harvey, get him in the loop. I¡¯m going through a tunnel.¡± He said as he stepped in and jammed the button for the basement with his elbow. ¡°What does¡­¡± Was about what Daniel got out before the elevator got him far enough underground that the call dropped. James shook his head as he half jogged through the hallway, dodging around camracondas and Research staff until he made his way to the vault. At some point, he realized as he opened the biometric locks, they needed to get more space down here. An extra Basement would be nice. Or maybe just excavate out into the surrounding reality, assuming they could avoid hitting sewer mains. Because having the vault be a combination magic item containment zone, camraconda ritual area, memorial wall, and armory, was kind of asking a lot. ¡°Priestess.¡± He nodded politely to the camraconda on her eternal watch. ¡°How¡¯re you?¡± ¡°We are well.¡± The camraconda spoke back, digital voice kept flat. She didn¡¯t talk as much as the others did, and didn¡¯t have the same practice socializing. ¡°We await the arrival.¡± ¡°Of Morgan?¡± James asked as he opened a padlock on a locker, one of a dozen set in two facing rows in the corner of the increasingly crowded vault. ¡°I dunno how he¡¯s doing, I haven¡¯t checked on him today. Give him time, okay?¡± He said as he pulled out a .308 marksman rifle, and after he¡¯d checked it and slung the strap for that over his shoulder, added a case full of the improved thermite bombs the Order still made good use of. Though ¡°case¡± in this instance was just the best term James had to describe what was essentially a fancy version of one of those fast food drink carriers. Only full of firebombs. If there was one thing he¡¯d learned, it was that the paper pushers, creatures made of literal paper, no matter how irrationally strong they were, still caught fire. ¡°We can wait.¡± The Priestess replied to James as he added a side holster with a 9mm pistol, and then added a handful of telepads to his coat pockets as he headed back for the cracked vault door. ¡°We are very good at waiting.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll fix that eventually.¡± James called back, as he turned to leave. He lurched slightly as he was about to let the door seal itself shut behind him, and caught the handle, holding it open for the cluster of other Order members currently moving around the edge of the Research space toward him. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± He asked Simon as the young man jogged up and took the door from him. ¡°Harvey¡¯s coordinating us on the shirts. Go; one of them just stopped.¡± The duel-minded young man jerked his head at James. James didn¡¯t bother to run all the way back to the elevator. He just pulled one of the telepads out, twirled a pen in his fingers, and wrote down ¡®Order of Endless Rooms cafeteria¡¯, then tore the page. He arrived boots first on the table between Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn, eliciting a startled scream from the human and a high volume electronic ¡°WHY¡± from the camraconda. James didn¡¯t waste time on an explanation, though, instead hopping to the floor and bolting through the open door to the side office that had become the home for Response. James had been in here before; hell, he¡¯d helped set the place up. His role as IT, it seemed, would never truly leave him. But still, it was one thing to install cabling and set up monitors, and another entirely to step into a command and control array for a combat operation. The far wall was just screens. The main one, currently, was showing a map with the GPS positions of the tracked cars. There were six of them, all of them spreading out from the point on the map James recognized as his old workplace. Smaller secondary monitors were showing what looked like feeds from traffic cameras, one of them had the Order¡¯s discussion server up on it, and to the side, a pair of stacked screens were divided into views of this exact room from a low angle. Body cameras; James spotted them lined up on a filing cabinet under the desk. The rest of the room was taken up by racks of body armor and light armaments, as well as tools to solve potential problems. Restraints, rebreathers, first aid kits, drone loadouts, the things they¡¯d discovered response teams needed often enough to justify having them on hand. And then, there was the open space on the floor, kept intentionally clear and marked off with duct tape in a deliberate pattern. Their telepad arrival point. There was a similar marker concealed in the upper floors of two hospitals nearby. James was proud of those arrangements. Harvey was here, running dark skinned hands through darker hair as he kept an eye on the movements of their quarry, the headset he was wearing making the motion tricky. Harvey was almost always here, lately. The Response teams weren¡¯t his idea, but as soon as the project had gotten rolling, he¡¯d found a passion for it that eclipsed everyone else¡¯s. He pulled twelve hour shifts alert on the phones, just in case someone called. He sortied out with teams at least every other day. He made calls to hospitals and fire departments in small towns across the country, working to build a protocol for the Order¡¯s future helping people. And his job, while at first may have involved a lot of relaxing and watching Youtube, had picked up a lot. People were noticing that the number the Order had quietly passed around was real. That you could, if you needed help, call. It hadn¡¯t made it onto the news, they hadn¡¯t been called by any government. But a lot more people were aware of them than before. They needed to hire more, James realized. And they needed to do it quickly. ¡°James.¡± Harvey¡¯s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, his enhanced brain easily filing the reminder for later. ¡°One of them just stopped. Address.¡± Harvey pointed to a monitor, where he¡¯d pulled up big bold text of a point on the map. James found a clear spot on the desk and started scrawling it onto a telepad with a hand he didn¡¯t realize had started shaking. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay.¡± Havey told him. ¡°Just take ¡®em out, and come back. We can scoop the area later.¡± ¡°Scoop?¡± James let out a nervous laugh that was almost a giggle. ¡°It¡¯s what the kids say.¡± Harvey informed him, and he did it with such a straight face that James wasn¡¯t sure if their dispatcher was lying to him. Harvey was just like that; he¡¯d laugh at jokes, but it was hard to tell if he ever made any himself. James just shrugged, and stepped back, rolling his shoulder to adjust the strap of the rifle he was wearing. He made to tear the telepad, but just before he did so, and hand landed on his arm. He turned his head, and saw Anesh standing next to him. His boyfriend was wearing one of the Status Quo bracers, along with the garishly unmatching glove. A compact headset sat over his ear, with the cord trailing down to his phone. Anesh plucked the case of grenades away from James, and met his boyfriend¡¯s lips for a quick kiss, before both of them squared their stances up, and James pulled the page off. In the Response office, Harvey rolled his chair over to a specific keyboard, and checked to make sure that a call had connected. ¡°Comms check.¡± He spoke, and a second later, heard Anesh reply on the other end. ¡°Next team¡¯s going out now.¡± Harvey told him as he glanced over his shoulder at where Simon, Deb, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight had just come in and were copying down the address on the screen he pointed them to. ¡°Good hunting.¡± He turned around in his chair, then, and repeated himself again. ¡°Take out the target, then return. We¡¯ll scoop the area later.¡± ¡°Scoop?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked, her shaky motions smoothing out a bit as she spoke, letting Deb rest a hand on her head for the impending teleport. ¡°It¡¯s what the kids say.¡± Harvey informed them. ¡°That can¡¯t be tr-¡° ¡°Team two is away.¡± Harvey reported to Anesh, spinning around in his chair again. ¡°Team two, comms check. Okay. Good hunting¡­¡± _____ ¡°They go to fight. To save others.¡± Color-Of-Dawn was telling Morgan. The two of them had moved out to the back patio behind the kitchen, where Morgan was smoking a cigarette he¡¯d bummed off Nate. Neither of them wanted to stick around a place where members of the Order were teleporting in and falling out of the sky. ¡°Sounds kind of self-righteous.¡± Morgan¡¯s reply was bitter as he leaned back and puffed a cloud of acrid smoke into the air. ¡°Is bad?¡± The camraconda asked. Morgan shrugged. ¡°I dunno. People like that always think they know what¡¯s best. It can get stupid.¡± ¡°Sss.¡± The camraconda hummed in crackling static. ¡°Better to have others tell you of righteousness?¡± It took Morgan a minute to puzzle through the statement. But he was quickly learning that one of the perks of talking to a camraconda was that they had no expectation of instant replies. He was almost expected to take his time and think about stuff. It was a hard habit to break, but it was...nice. ¡°Fair point.¡± He eventually conceded. ¡°They just seem really political here.¡± ¡°Meaningless word.¡± Color-Of-Dawn hissed. ¡°What, political?¡± ¡°Yessss.¡± The camraconda sounded almost spiteful. ¡°Every definition, different. Every conversation, every person, their politics normal, others not.¡± ¡°Ah, like, people think they¡¯re normal?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°Wait, that happens here?¡± ¡°Not.¡± Color-Of-Dawn shook its head. ¡°Internet. Reddit.¡± ¡°I feel like¡­ you¡¯re a new person, right? Like, hold on, how old are you?¡± ¡°New. Not child. You?¡± ¡°Same, I guess.¡± Morgan flicked ash of his cigarette. ¡°I guess I was gonna say you shouldn¡¯t be online. But maybe no one should, huh? But yeah, so, they go fight people?¡± ¡°Fight monsters.¡± The camraconda corrected. ¡°Hard to be people. Most Life not. Almost no Puppets are.¡± The human shook his head. ¡°How do you pronounce the capital letters? I heard James do that earlier.¡± ¡°Learned from him. Not sure where he learned.¡± Color-Of-Dawn cracked its maw in a grin. ¡°Clever trick. But yes, they fight. Keep people safe. They are good, self-righteous or no.¡± Morgan looked over at his new¡­ friend?... friend. ¡°Do you fight?¡± He asked quietly. The response didn¡¯t come for a long time. ¡°No.¡± Color-Of-Dawn finally said. ¡°...Is it okay if I ask why?¡± Morgan said, dropping his used butt into the tin of discarded smokes that Nate was collecting out here. ¡°But, like, only if¡­¡± ¡°I am not enough.¡± Color-Of-Dawn told him. And then, a minute of quiet later, ¡°Good enough. Brave enough. Faithful enough. Not I.¡± The digital voice resonated with a vibrant sorrow. ¡°Is that why you didn¡¯t care about talking to me?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°Like, everyone else like you keeps staring or looking like they want something from me. But you don¡¯t?¡± ¡°Not believe, I.¡± Color-Of-Dawn nodded, a bobbing motion. Its tongue flicked out to taste the cool afternoon air. ¡°Not good enough, to believe.¡± ¡°Believe in what?¡± Morgan asked. The camraconda looked over, lens of an eye widening and narrowing in short bursts of motion as it focused on his face. ¡°In Her. In you. In them. I am not worth believing. Not good enough.¡± Morgan licked his lips as he gave an open mouthed stare at the snake next to him. ¡°Wait, your religion is¡­ you have to be good enough to join? Or think you are good enough? That¡¯s¡­¡± He was going to say ¡®weird¡¯, but that would be rude. And for a second, he remembered that the thing he was sitting on a carved wooden bench next to was one of the things that killed his mother. But then the feeling passed, and his heart didn¡¯t start hammering in panic. ¡°...what makes you not good enough?¡± ¡°That, not ask.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said. ¡°Maybe. Later.¡± ¡°Do most of you¡­ like, you-snake-people-you¡­ do they actually worship my mom?¡± Morgan asked quietly, trying to change the subject to something only slightly less awkward. ¡°They do.¡± Color-Of-Dawn replied, voice a bit less loud, perhaps relieved that it wouldn¡¯t be pressed for answers. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°She freed us.¡± ¡°But you killed her.¡± Morgan¡¯s voice cracked on the last word, the accusation heavy in the air. Color-Of-Dawn looked away, staring out over the top of the fence that separated the patio from the parking lot. ¡°Yes.¡± It said. ¡°Will never make it up.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why they help people? To.. what, apologize?¡± ¡°No. Maybe. The Order saved us. Were kind. If us kind, too¡­ no words. No words this.¡± Color-Of-Dawn shook its head frantically. Morgan held up his hands, trying to calm the camraconda down. ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s okay. I think I get it. It¡¯s¡­ you pay it forward, right?¡± ¡°Pay forward?¡± The digitized voice asked. ¡°Yeah,¡± the organic one replied, ¡°like, someone did something good for you. You can¡¯t repay them, but you can do it again for someone else. And then they¡¯ll do it to someone else. Everyone you help, it adds up. One big chain, right?¡± Morgan winced. ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t have the words for this either.¡± He muttered. But the camraconda took to it instantly. ¡°The chain of kind. Yes. Yes.¡± Color-Of-Dawn bobbed enthusiastically. ¡°They add to it.¡± Then the enthusiasm faded a bit, and it glanced away again. ¡°They do. I not.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to fight monsters to be a nice person, dude.¡± Morgan told it, suddenly invested more than he expected to ever be in the emotional well being of this biomechanical serpent creature. ¡°Just¡­ be good. It¡¯s okay. I know¡­ I know my mom¡­¡± He stopped talking, his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together. But then he steadied himself, took a breath, and kept going. ¡°My mom, she never expected me to be the best or anything. But she always told me I had to try. Whatever I was doing. Even when she caught me skipping class...¡± He grinned, the smile coming with a small silent sob at the memory, ¡°...she caught me skipping class, and told me that I better not get caught next time. I think it woulda been different if I was hurting anyone, you know? But I wasn¡¯t, and she didn¡¯t care that I was breaking the rules. Just that I do *my* best.¡± ¡°Best¡­¡± Color-Of-Dawn mused next to him. ¡°Are you, your best?¡± ¡°Nah.¡± Morgan said, wishing he¡¯d swiped more smokes from Nate. ¡°But fuck it, it¡¯s never too late to try, right?¡± The camraconda nodded back at him. Slowly at first, then more vigorously. ¡°Hey¡­ do you think¡­ do you think you can show me where my mom is? Not...I don¡¯t wanna see her. Yet. But I wanna know.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Color-Of-Dawn told him simply. ¡°Follow. Inside, less cold.¡± ¡°Yeah, this state¡¯s winter sucks.¡± Morgan agreed, rubbing at his ears as they made their way back into the kitchen. _____ James and Anesh appeared on the fourth floor of a parking garage. It took the two a few seconds to get their bearings, James whipping his head around to try to spot their targets. But aside from a concrete structure about a third full of cars, they were alone. ¡°You go up.¡± Anesh nudged him. ¡°I¡¯ll go down.¡± He nodded, got a firm grip on his rifle, and started moving, splitting up from his boyfriend as they went in opposite directions circling through the parking lot¡¯s corkscrew aisle. James lost sight of Anesh quickly. But he didn¡¯t panic; his partner was just as experienced at this as he was. And even though ¡®just as experienced¡¯ in hunting down rogue agents of a hostile dimension in a parking garage meant ¡®not that experienced¡¯, they were both armed, and this time, *they* were the ambush party. Two floors of parking structure later, James had seen no sign of the suits. However, he had passed by a woman pushing a stroller, and despite the mask covering her features, he was pretty sure she¡¯d had a panicked expression on. As he looped around the top floor and made his way to the elevator, he saw her fumbling a cell phone out from down the main ramp. ¡®Spotted. Civilian calling police, prob.¡¯ James messaged back to Harvey, knowing it¡¯d be passed along to Anesh. ¡®Ground floor. Contact.¡¯ Harvey texted back as James boarded the second elevator of the day and rode it down, adjusting his grip on the rifle and making sure the safety was off as the doors slid open. From his vantage point, he was perfectly positioned to see Anesh sail through the air perpendicular to the elevator¡¯s door, just as those doors slid open. His boyfriend¡¯s arms and legs outstretched as he hammered into a concrete wall and rolled to the ground. James stepped out, noting the presence of both paper pushers advancing on Anesh with their backs to him, and also a cluster of teenagers around a white van nearby. They were cowering. Possibly because there was a puddle of fire covering the main aisle of the parking structure from where Anesh had lobbed thermite before James arrived. James lined up his first shot and blew away the midsection of a paper pusher before they even knew he was there. The .308 round designed to penetrate flesh easily carving the cardstock skin away and shredding the body with a rippling shockwave. The other entity turned toward him, and actually *ducked* the second bullet, and as James started lining up shots and pulling the trigger in rapids succession, it started moving toward him. He caught it in the arm, but it just grabbed its own limb out of the air and reattached it, uncanny valley face showing something just a little too unfamiliar to be recognized as real anger. He tried to keep it from closing in, feet steady as he sidestepped to his right, putting distance between them. But these things were far too fast to avoid by backpedaling while still trying to aim. And even with his boosted aim stat, it was almost on him. Then the grenade Anesh threw from the side detonated in midair, spraying streamers of metallic sparks across the paper pusher¡¯s face and torso. It caught *instantly*, and screamed in an animalistic way as its paper form was reduced to ash. Then there was silence. Well, except the ringing in James¡¯ ears. And the distant sirens. ¡°Was it after any of you?¡± James yelled at the teenagers who probably hoped he hadn¡¯t seen them. After all, crazy people with guns were¡­ well, scary. One of them stood up, though on trembling legs. ¡°M...me.¡± The girl said. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt them. They don¡¯t know.¡± James rolled his eyes as he advanced on her, slinging the gun back to his side and making sure the safety was engaged. ¡°Our card.¡± He said, offering her a slip of paper. ¡°Give us a call when you¡¯re ready, or if you need help.¡± Behind him, staggering to his side, Anesh was shoving the two recovered baseball sized green orbs into his pockets. ¡°Police are here.¡± He said, and winced as James clapped a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Bloody hell, ow!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°Not so hard!¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t what you were saying last-¡° And then the two of them were gone, and the only things left in the parking structure were some very confused teenagers, and a small bonfire. Chapter 137 ¡°Okay friends. Let¡¯s do this. Let¡¯s kill god.¡± -Wyatt Mason, Blaseball- The second deployment went about as smoothly as the first. There shouldn¡¯t have needed to be a third, but just as James and Anesh were returning for the second time, Dave¡¯s group had teleported almost directly on top of a group of paper pushers, and needed help. So James and Anesh, drained and sore, had slammed back the offered cups of reflex coffee, fired off a fresh telepad, and tipped a fight in the Order¡¯s favor. This had happened in the loading bay of a grocery store. There had been mild collateral damage, in the form of a gutted semi truck engine, and the slippery loss of sixty very large bottles of extra virgin olive oil. When they¡¯d teleported back, they¡¯d found a place to slump against the wall together, sitting on the floor of the dining area in a post-adrenaline blur. Holding hands, and discussing how they should get a shower installed in the Lair somewhere. Meanwhile, Dave and Ann were getting bandaged up from where they¡¯d been either dragged across asphalt, or cut with the shards of several very large bottles of extra virgin olive oil. Which, James was given to understand, was not a sterile substance. ¡°You know, people are gonna want us to go into Officium Mundi tomorrow.¡± James muttered, rolling his head to the side to face Anesh as the two of them let their heart rates come down. They were, he noticed, being watched. By a half dozen people eating lunch here, most of them new hires. ¡°Pass.¡± Anesh said. ¡°My legs hurt.¡± ¡°You did get grabbed by one of them.¡± James pointed out, glancing down as Anesh stiffly rolled up a pant leg to reveal a roughly handprint-shaped bruise covering his calf. ¡°Ouch. Um¡­ I don¡¯t have an easy fix for that.¡± Anesh slumped back again, not bothering to readjust his slacks. ¡°Is it weird that we don¡¯t have a lot of RPG staples in our lives?¡± ¡°Is this gonna be about the bag of holding thing again?¡± James inquired, tired, but getting invested in the conversation. A hand flopped against his coat as Anesh halfheartedly tried to knock him over. ¡°Yes. But no. We have the wallet now. But kind of? Think of all the things that you¡¯d expect to find in a dungeon. How many do we actually have?¡± ¡°Well, we haven¡¯t fought a slime, yet¡­¡± James started. Anesh groaned. ¡°Oh, bollocks. Can you imagine a slime made of printer ink?¡± James matched the noise, thumping his head lightly on the wall. ¡°Yes. Great. Cool. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s a thing we¡¯ll see shortly. Anyway. Um¡­ health potions? Treasure chests, I guess. Do the briefcases count?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Okay, so, we¡¯re mostly talking about storage space and magical healing, huh?¡± James inquired. ¡°Mostly. Also no rings of protection or immovable rods.¡± ¡°Oh my god I didn¡¯t even think about how much I want an immovable rod.¡± James gushed. ¡°Oh, we could just *ruin* someone in a high speed chase!¡± ¡°How often do we get in high speed chases?¡± Anesh asked, less concerned than he was bemused. James wondered how he¡¯d ever started dating someone with so little lust for the finer things in life. ¡°Never.¡± He told Anesh. ¡°Because we don¡¯t own any immovable rods. Obviously.¡± Anesh rolled his eyes, but didn¡¯t say anything. Instead, he started rifling through James¡¯ coat pockets before pulling out one of the green orbs. ¡°So, what do we do with these? Use them now?¡± He asked. ¡°Hell no. You finally got all those fancy boxes set up for the copier; we spend tomorrow running off duplicates of all of these, and then we figure out which ones get us one step closer to a utopia. And then we make a lot more.¡± ¡°Do you ever miss the days when we didn¡¯t have to be responsible?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Nah.¡± James said. ¡°I used to. I used to worry a lot that life wasn¡¯t fun anymore. But, like, dude. I feel pretty good maximizing our output, you know? It¡¯s kind of like getting a working automation set up in a game. Except here, the output isn¡¯t ¡®I don¡¯t need to farm skeletons anymore¡¯ and instead is ¡®if we line this up right we can end world hunger¡¯. And I¡¯m kinda okay with that.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just a bit high stakes.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°And I¡¯m not saying our lives aren¡¯t a ton of fun - and that reminds me, I need to meet up with myself later tonight to resync and learn about what¡¯s going on in *bloody NASA* - it¡¯s just that we¡¯re using less of our magic on ourselves, and it stings sometimes.¡± James shrugged, and instantly regretted it, his shoulder aching from the recoil of the rifle he¡¯d been firing off repeatedly. It also caused Anesh, who was half leaning against him, to shift slightly into a much less comfortable spot. ¡°The stakes are honestly kind of low.¡± James said. ¡°Because we¡¯re not really responsible for anything yet. We¡¯re just trying to make sure that we can do it right, when we are. Also you work at NASA, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re allowed to complain that you don¡¯t get to use every orb right away.¡± ¡°Bah!¡± Anesh said. ¡°I don¡¯t have any memories of it yet! But¡­ I¡¯m sure it¡¯s very cool.¡± He glanced away, and James noticed the skin of his neck and cheeks was darkened more than normal. ¡°Aw, you¡¯re blushing! Are you proud of yourself for building spaceships? Yes you are!¡± He pressed himself into Anesh¡¯s side, snuggling against his partner, who made protesting noises and tried to push him back in retribution. ¡°But seriously.¡± James said, straightening up and starting to haul himself to his feet. ¡°You¡¯re really cool for doing that, even if it¡¯s a clone of you so it¡¯s not much of a time sacrifice. But also I¡¯m going to let the new people use the orbs tomorrow when we test them, so I wanted to butter you up a bit first before telling you that you don¡¯t get to pick up another five levels in math I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°Wanker!¡± Anesh exclaimed, half lunging forward limply as James hopped away from their sitting spot, laughing madly. ¡°Get back here!¡± He yelled after his infuriating boyfriend. ¡°You¡¯re gonna break your aura of mystery with the new kids, if you keep doing that.¡± Momo¡¯s voice came from overhead where Anesh had half-sprawled on the floor, finding the position strangely comfortable and not really worth getting up from right away. ¡°James has the mystery, I¡¯m just here for moral support.¡± Anesh told her. But still, he did feel a strange flustered knot in his chest at the thought that the group of new potential members sitting a few tables away might think less of him. Then he rolled onto his side and looked up, and any sense that Momo had the high ground in this argument went away. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re wearing a bathrobe. You don¡¯t get to lecture me on decorum.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been busy, don¡¯t judge me.¡± Momo flipped the side of her hair that was still long back over her shoulder, turning her nose up at Anesh. ¡°You were on one of the interception teams!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°You¡­ couldn¡¯t have had time to change¡­ could you? No. No! You wore a bathrobe into combat!¡± The words were accusatory, even if Anesh was clearly amused by the whole thing. Momo let out a noise that was best described as a defiant squeak. ¡°I was busy!¡± She repeated. ¡°I didn¡¯t have time to change, I got caught in the middle of working on a totem when this happened.¡± ¡°Oh, what for?¡± Anesh shifted to curious professionalism, turning the conversational tone on a dime. ¡°Well, you remember the cat?¡± ¡°Ah, our fourth biggest mistake so far.¡± ¡°Fourth?¡± Momo paused, and then silently ticked off events on her fingers. ¡°Yeah, okay. Well, I figured we should try to find it, so I was working on getting a red totem that can tell you how many large cats are within a certain radius. But then this happened, I had to rush the end, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s giving accurate information.¡± ¡°That¡¯s strange. I didn¡¯t think they could do that.¡± Anesh held up an arm, signaling that he¡¯d like some help standing, and Momo obliged him. ¡°The totems always give accurate reports, even if the things they¡¯re reporting on are¡­ well¡­¡± He shrugged, putting a lot of synonyms for the word ¡®dumb¡¯ into the motion. ¡°Well, this one is telling me that there¡¯s thirteen large cats within its radius. And that¡¯s just not possible.¡± Anesh paused, then slowly opened his mouth to ask, ¡°How large is ¡®large¡¯?¡± ¡°Over thirty pounds, specifically. It was the best qualifier I could reliably produce.¡± Momo said, as if her ability to instinctively derive totem formula wasn¡¯t already insanely impressive. ¡°Bloody hell.¡± Anesh muttered. ¡°Do you think the displacer cat¡­ multiplied?¡± Momo rolled her eyes in that way that recovering teenage sarcasm addicts did. ¡°That¡¯d be stupid. How would it find a cat to mate with? The thing was¡­¡± ¡°I meant asexually, but sure.¡± Anesh waved away her train of thought. ¡°Hm. Let¡¯s crowdsource this.¡± He decided, and turned to address the dozen or so people in the dining room. ¡°Hey! Does anyone know why there might be a dozen big cats nearby?¡± There was a brief pause. The experienced members of the Order, many of whom had just been deployed to combat situations, groaned lightly and started standing up, expecting another problem to solve. The new people looked at each other, and at Anesh, in confusion; was this a test, of some kind? The camracondas started asking people what cats were. One kid, with scruffy black hair and a rock band shirt on, actually raised his hand. Anesh emulated Momo¡¯s eye roll and pointed at him. ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Um¡­¡± Morgan looked around like he felt like he was walking into a trap. ¡°The zoo is nearby?¡± There was a collective blink. Anesh raised his eyebrows. The Order¡¯s knights sat back down. Momo started belting out peals of laughter. ¡°Yes, thank you. You¡¯re hired.¡± Anesh flatly declared. ¡°I need to go¡­ somewhere else. Momo. Good luck with all that.¡± He turned and walked out of the room with what he hoped appeared to be a professional stride. ¡°Hired for what?¡± Morgan whispered to Color-Of-Dawn ¡°Should ask.¡± The camraconda bobbed a sympathetic nod. ¡°What is a cat?¡± It asked back. _____ ¡°Sarah? You up here?¡± James called as he ascended the staircase to the attic. ¡®The attic¡¯, the dungeon in the attic, the one that Sarah had started called Clutter Ascent. He liked the name, but it felt a little weird to use that kind of gravitas on¡­ an attic. ¡°Candy delivery!¡± James called out into the still air. The attic had changed over the last couple months. James had visited, so most of it wasn¡¯t a surprise. But still, the distance it had come from being simply a slightly-too-large storage space was pretty impressive. Overhead, above the entrance landing, a column of open space expanded upward. Like a massive wooden smokestack, occasionally showing signs of its abnormal construction as insulation and shingles overlapped each other. Every twenty feet or so, spiraling around the outside, was a little alcove. James knew, without being able to see inside most of them, that each of those alcoves held within it a misaligned bench, and a window overlooking a beautiful sunset. What he *could* see was the beams of light from those sunsets, rays of gold and orange, purple and red, bold and somber tones of a day¡¯s end, painting the tower in beautiful shades. The light cascaded down to where James was standing, too. This little landing in the middle of more space than there should have been available, lit up by those errant sunbeams. It was a clear area, of dusty unvarnished wooden floorboards. And all around¡­ clutter. Things. Stuff. Walls and mountains of it, sometimes forming into pathways through the labyrinth that the attic was slowly growing. Where before, it had been like a normal attic, albeit one that needed a good cleaning, now the things were more clearly artificial. Down one of the little hallways, James could see a part where it became a tunnel; an armoire and a tall dresser on either side, with a dozen rakes lain on top of them to create a shaded passage. There was a portion where a workbench stretched for several meters, the hole punched wall hung with a dozen different rusted and useless tools. Everything had become just a little more, a little less normal. The entire place was bathed in evening light. Despite the fact that it was seven PM in late December, and James felt like he hadn¡¯t seen the sun for months. Clutter Ascent didn¡¯t care; it liked its sunsets. And spaced around the growing dungeon, high set circular windows let in visions of a hundred sunsets. Some summer, some fall. Some clear evenings, some lighting up thick clouds, some being actively rained on. But all of them small moments of creation that the dungeon had saved. James smiled at the atmosphere of the place. Gone, entirely, was the fear aura that the nascent dungeon had used to protect itself. It entirely relied now on the Order, on trust and compassion. The house below that tethered it to reality was now occupied by a half dozen tenants; victims of Officium Mundi who had been so erased from existence that they had nowhere else to go, now caretakers and guardians of the existence overhead. And every day, people came to visit, to explore, to share their time with Clutter Ascent. Not as delvers, but as friends. And so, to, the place had taken on a feeling of quiet excitement. Small joys and little triumphs and carefree fun. Dust dancing in sunbeams, the smell of ancient furniture, and tiny secrets waiting around every corner. He looked around himself, and found a hand drawn cardboard sign propped up on a sheet-covered armchair. It had a smattering of stars drawn on it, and the words ¡°Secret Fort, This Way¡±, with an arrow pointing down one of the halls in the clutter. James grinned, and shook his head as he moved to follow the sign¡¯s direction. He passed through stacks of worn cardboard boxes and abandoned tool boxes. Fishing tackle crates and half rusted bicycles. As he turned one corner, he moved into a space where, all of a sudden, the sunlight from any of the windows didn¡¯t reach, and it suddenly struck James just how *dark* these simple shadows could get. It was while moving past a teetering tower of stacked jumbo sized flower pots in this darkened patch of floor that James heard a sound that was new to the attic. A low, guttural hiss that flooded out of the cracks of deeper darkness around him and set his blood running cold in an instant. James froze, eyes snapping around and trying to find the source, but he had underestimated exactly how dark it really was here. Only a few beams of light mapped out rough splotches of the way forward; an outline, not clear vision. ¡°Hello?¡± James softly asked as the hiss faded and a worried silence took its place. ¡°Hello?¡± An airy voice drawled the word back at him. James shifted his feet into a fighting stance, just in case. ¡°Friend or foe?¡± He tried to sound casual as he continued to scan the darkness of the clutter around him, suddenly aware of just how many rough edges there were here. ¡°Friend?¡± The darkness asked back. ¡°Or foe?¡± The voice hissed laughter like spring rain, as a shadow pooly physically from the stack of flower pots, dripping darkness down in large dollops that splattered to the floor a few feet away from James. He watched with caution, as the shadows pulled themselves together, forming up into a knee-high shape with fuzzy edges, that *looked* at him, as it opened a pair of electric blue gemstone eyes. The small points of light glimmered in the darkness, watching, and waiting, with a strange heavy patience. James met those eyes, and even in the darkness where he couldn¡¯t make out what the creature was, he got the sense of the feeling of the shape of a housecat. Or a rat. Or perhaps something halfway between the two. With the impression that the thing had more limbs than was healthy for anything challenging it. There was a stretched silence while the two potential combatants sized each other up, neither breaking eye contact. And then James cleared his throat. ¡°Ah, sorry. Just passing through. Would you like a granola bar? It¡¯s got almonds.¡± ¡°Yesssssssss!¡± The excited reply came back, a bounce in the wispy voice. James grinned, and dug in his back pocket for one of the snack bars he¡¯d liberated from the Office (Scenic Gran Canyon) and handed it over. ¡°Pass, pass.¡± The thing whispered at him, the shadows turning liquid again and taking the creature, and its new snack, with them. And then James was alone again. The darkness around him feeling much more spooky than he remembered. But, somehow, perfectly fitting for those dark spots of an attic that he hadn¡¯t been in that often. ¡°This is Sarah¡¯s fault somehow, I¡¯m sure.¡± He muttered, starting to move again, but now with the alert posture and slightly uncomfortable nervous edge that had been developed across a few dozen active dungeon delves. Four left turns later, the labyrinth of a hallway through the clutter ended, and his destination opened up before him. Sure, James had spotted glimpses of it through the stacks, and it wouldn¡¯t really have been too hard to bulldoze the stuff aside, or just climb over it in certain places, to reach where he was going. But he was a firm believer that sometimes, the journey mattered. And he was loath to teach this growing dungeon otherwise. The place he was going was the secluded little blanket fort that he¡¯d joined Sarah in what felt like a lifetime but was actually only a few weeks ago. And it wasn¡¯t like he hadn¡¯t visited a few times, so he wasn¡¯t *entirely* surprised by how it had changed. Because it had changed. And James didn¡¯t waste energy pretending he wasn¡¯t surprised, or delighted, by it. The walls were *ramparts*. Thick down comforters that seemed to go on forever, draped across overhead pipes or propped up against mothballed furniture that stood like spires. Lit around the outside by strings of Christmas lights that James could see trailed into the interior, lighting the entire thing with a golden glow. It was a tent, almost; like a circus bigtop. And yet, no matter how huge an impression it gave, at the end of the day, it was still a humble little blanket fort with a cozy interior full of pillow lounges and snack stashes. It had potted plants around it. Real, living ones. Green leafy patches that seemed to be thriving in the false sunsets. It reminded James of when his family had moved, when he was still in elementary school. He and his sister had taken all the cardboard boxes, and turned them into a castle in the basement. What felt then like an endless maze of twists and turns to crawl through and play in. This was that, but brought to brilliant life in large scale. James was grinning as he pushed aside the entry blanket, passing a cardboard sign reading ¡®Secret Base¡¯ in big bold marker letters. ¡°Sarah! You around? I brought backup candy!¡± James called out into the palace of pillows. Sarah rolled into view, flopping sideways from behind a curtain wall and onto a plush leather couch cushion. ¡°The fortress accepts your tribute!¡± She gleefully called back at him. ¡°Fortress?¡± James shot a friendly smirk at her as he kicked his shoes off by the door and crawled farther in, where the ceilings were lower and the strings of lights more perilously at head height. ¡°I thought it was a secret base.¡± ¡°A fortress can be a secret base.¡± Sarah informed him matter of factly. ¡°Anyway, I hear you got me candy?¡± James laughed at her excited mood, and unzipped his backpack, thunking the base of it onto the floor nearby. ¡°Only the best extradimensional sweets.¡± He told her. ¡°Look! Baby Things! You have no idea how much I¡¯ve missed these.¡± Sarah bobbed him on the nose with a single slender outstretched finger. ¡°I absolutely do.¡± She said, transferring a single minute of rest to James with the touch to add a spark of meaning to the tap. ¡°You complain! Always!¡± ¡°Oh! Speaking of complaining!¡± James said as Sarah examined, and then tore into, a package of gumdrops labeled Jelly Ladies, ¡°I met something on the way here. Some kind of shadow¡­ rat?¡± He quirked an eyebrow and looked at Sarah¡¯s face for any sign of a reaction. ¡°Cat? Gecko? No?¡± Sarah stared at him in open mouthed horror, before cracking into laughter and dropping the short lived act. ¡°So he said hi!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°Was he polite?¡± ¡°He robbed me!¡± James protested. ¡°Also what is it.¡± ¡°*He* is something new.¡± Sarah said, glancing upward. Despite the fact that the dungeon was all around them, there was a very human tendency to look *up* for things like this. Or at least, there was for her. ¡°Ascent made him while we were out one night. He¡¯s *very* proper, in his own way. Oh! And he has the cutest eyes!¡± She grinned at James. ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten to talk much to him, but he does talk. And he liked the name I gave him.¡± ¡°I am terrified to ask¡­¡± James started, pressing his eyes closed and taking a preemptive sigh. ¡°Fredrick Umbra Armillary the First!¡± Sarah exclaimed. James finished the sigh, opened his eyes, and looked at his once and future best friend with a thinly contained smile. ¡°You just cannot help yourself, can you?¡± ¡°You name things as puns!¡± Sarah protested. ¡°Remember the tumblefeed? Or the mongausse? Which, I just realized, might seem kind of offensive to our surprisingly large snake-based population¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°I¡¯ll come up with a better species name.¡± James promised her. ¡°But you¡¯re sure that¡­ Fredrick¡­ is safe?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll keep him safe.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°Not even close to what I asked.¡± ¡°Yes, he¡¯s safe! Probably! As safe as you are, anyway. Or maybe as safe as¡­ Dave. Yes! As safe as Dave.¡± ¡°Reassuring.¡± James huffed out a chuckle. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯ll trust you. And trust Ascent, too.¡± He gave his own upward glance. ¡°Thanks for making something new.¡± James spoke the words he¡¯d been turning over in his mind solemnly, almost like the cadence of a prayer. Sarah nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a good creation.¡± She added. ¡°Now, I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t come here just to bring me candy.¡± Sarah popped another one of the gumdrops into her mouth and spoke around the gooey treat. ¡°You¡¯re *busy* all the time now. Too busy to hang out and build pillow forts with your old pal.¡± ¡°Yup. I¡¯ve been eaten by adulthood.¡± James morosely confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s just work work work, all the time. No place for¡­ actually, this is kinda hitting closer to home than I intended. Can we change topics?¡± ¡°Gladly.¡± Sarah sighed. ¡°So, I hear you have something-¡° ¡°Oh, that reminds me!¡± Sarah cut James off abruptly, bouncing to her knees on the cushion she was lounging on and lunging forward to reach behind the curtain that they were hanging around. ¡°Here!¡± She held out a small open cardboard box to James, and he glanced into it to see that it contained a series of engraved wooden sticks. All of them a little longer than your average pencil, and, he knew, mostly indestructible unless pulled on by two people. They were the objects from this dungeon¡¯s idea of treasure chests, and when used, they formed a bond between the people that used them. A bond that could then be filled with an important moment, and used as a metaphysical shipping route to move traits and concepts between the two people. ¡°Wow, this is¡­ a lot of these. Is Clutter really okay with us having them?¡± James asked, worried. And his worry, while uncertain, wasn¡¯t out of nowhere. None of them had ever raised a dungeon before; they didn¡¯t know what was okay and what wasn¡¯t. ¡°I think it¡¯s fine.¡± Sarah said. ¡°We still can¡¯t really communicate directly that much. But I asked Fredrick, and he seemed to think it was good for us to find them.¡± She looked a bit guilty. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not sure he understood the question? But I did ask a couple ways. So I¡¯m pretty sure!¡± ¡°That¡¯s just the opposite of reassuring.¡± James said. ¡°I should try to talk to him on the way out. Anyway, that¡¯s both cool and worrying, and I bet we can make a lot of really weird stuff work with these. But I¡¯m actually here to talk about¡­ and I can¡¯t believe I get to use this combination of words¡­ your *pet raincloud*?¡± Sarah¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Oh! May!¡± She said. ¡°Of course!¡± ¡°...May what?¡± ¡°The raincloud is named May, silly.¡± Sarah stuck the tip of her tongue between her lips, staring at James like she was waiting for him to react to that. James waited for the rest of the name. Then he realized what was happening, and decided that he wasn¡¯t going to rise to the bait. ¡°Okay, May it is.¡± He said, watching Sarah pout a bit as he didn¡¯t get dramatic. ¡°How¡­ what is¡­ *how*... is¡­ that? Going? Why is there a raincloud and how is it doing and just start answering questions and I tell you when to stop.¡± James lost control of his sentence entirely. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Okay!¡± Sarah clapped her hands. ¡°Come with me!¡± She stood, kicking socked feet out as she ducked around a pillow alcove and farther into the back of this massive lounge. ¡°So, the thing to understand, is that this place doesn¡¯t really understand ¡®outside¡¯ that well, okay?¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine, I don¡¯t either.¡± James admitted. ¡°That¡¯s why I play video games.¡± He ducked a throw pillow Sarah casually flung back over her shoulder. She led him farther back than he thought the place should have been able to go before the wall. It was, continually, a weird experience. Even knowing, as James did, that space was mostly just a suggestion, it still gave him mild chills every time. ¡°Anyway, when Clutter Ascent was building itself more ¡®windows¡¯, it wanted some of them to have rainy nights. But it didn¡¯t know how to make rain. So, instead of learning how weather patterns worked, or maybe *after* it learned how weather patterns worked, it decided it could just figure something out, and spun up¡­ well, May.¡± James followed Sarah as she reached what amounted to a back room, a place where actual shelving units, a half full bookshelf, a mini fridge, and some bags of potting soil and watering cans for the plants around here. And, he noticed, a cord hanging from the ceiling. He looked up as Sarah hopped up to grab it and pull it down. The ceiling here wasn¡¯t blankets, but instead a more normal looking wooden ceiling. Like you¡¯d find in any room of a normal house. Which was, actually, weird, because it wasn¡¯t what you should find in an *attic*. And when Sarah pulled the cord and from a crack in the paint a set of steps descended, James raised his eyebrows and flicked his eyes around in a sudden alert motion. ¡°So,¡± Sarah continued like this was normal as she led James up to *another attic inside this attic*, ¡°May - and this was before I was calling her anything - worked pretty well. At first. She rained, and that was good enough. But the dungeon found a better way to do things, and May wasn¡¯t really doing very well on her own.¡± Sarah¡¯s voice went soft, her cheerful self still there, but subdued as she talked. ¡°She was dying. And, you know, as near as we can tell, this is just something dungeons do. Monsters get replaced, or obsoleted, right?¡± ¡°I remember fighting a bunch of old-model staplers in the office.¡± James said quietly as they surmounted the stairs and Sarah groped around for a light switch. ¡°Exactly.¡± She said, finding the light, and with a ratcheting set of clicks, bathing the room in white light. ¡°But¡­¡± There were a series of fish tanks and terrariums, dozens of them, making up a wall of glass in the middle of the small room. Each of them held some plants, sometimes some bugs, but *mostly* they all had a miniature swirling dark cloud near their top. James saw some of them had heaters or humidifiers in them, no two looked to be the same. ¡°This is¡­ May.¡± Sarah said sadly. ¡°Her version of life support, I guess. Or the best we can do.¡± ¡°What¡­ are all the different parts communicating with each other? Is she split?¡± James asked. ¡°She isn¡¯t intelligent.¡± Sarah shook her head. ¡°Not sophont, I guess you¡¯d say. She¡¯s basically at cow levels of brainpower. Smart enough to gravitate toward survival, but not smart enough to move beyond that in any real way.¡± ¡°So this is¡­ trying to find an environment that works for her?¡± ¡°Kind of, yeah.¡± Sarah said, nodding, a grim frown on her face. ¡°Also just kind of trying to keep her comfortable. Here¡¯s the thing; May is *very* good at what she does. And what she does under the right conditions is grow, and produce rain. We could easily save her life, if we just let her go outside. But¡­¡± ¡°But then she¡¯d grow. And produce rain.¡± James said. ¡°Out of nothing? Violation of conservation of matter?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Sarah whispered. ¡°So, this is the most ethical experiment I could think of. Well, I mean, Nick thought of it - he¡¯s one of the guys living downstairs now - but I put it into action. We¡¯re trying to find an environment where May is *stable*.¡± ¡°You started to say something earlier.¡± James prompted. ¡°Exactly, but¡­?¡± ¡°But we¡¯re raising a dungeon to be compassionate.¡± Sarah told him. ¡°And it didn¡¯t want to let a raincloud wither away and die.¡± She stepped forward, placing a hand on one of the terrarium walls, and James watched as a solid looking cloud tendril reached out to press against where her hand rested, thick drops of rain beginning to pour from several of the cloud fragments. ¡°I had been,¡± James admitted, ¡°going to ask if this could be an effective irrigation solution. Both for arcology life, and just in general.¡± ¡°She could be, some day.¡± Sarah smiled softly at the bank of clouds. ¡°But I think it¡¯ll take more than just me working on it to figure that out. And I want her to be happy.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll task you some interns.¡± James vowed. ¡°And we¡¯ll make you the happiest goddamn cloud in the world.¡± _____ ¡°This was supposed to be¡­!¡± Anesh¡¯s voice was equal parts loud and hoarse as he yelled at James, his words cut off as he dropped his shoulder to the hard office carpet and slid through a gap in the twisted cubicle walls, narrowly avoiding losing a few inches of hair to the jagged edge of a hexapedal limb scything past. ¡°I know!¡± James yelled back, kicking off a bisected maul cart lying on the floor and using his enhanced coordination to plant a second step as precisely as he could on the leg of the maimframe trying to kill Anesh. ¡°...a simple¡­!¡± Anesh rolled to the side, bringing up a three ring binder they¡¯d found that converted kinetic impacts into paperwork, absorbing most of the downstroke of the clawed leg and adding about six pounds of paper to the now-bulging binder. ¡°*I know*!¡± James bellowed, using the last of his absorbed blue orb charge to Repossess his gun from where he¡¯d just caught sight of it, coiled in an anemone looking bundle of cords sprouting from one of the maimframe¡¯s upgrade ports. The solid metal grip dropped into his palm perfectly just as he lost forward momentum when the leg he was running across shifted, an he dropped to the floor, keeping the gun held tight and not trying to fire while tumbling. He was bold, not stupid. ¡°...*nonviolent*...!¡± Was the word Anesh was yelling as James crashed through a cracked and crumbling cubicle wall, finding himself half balanced over a blackened chasm in the floor that he couldn¡¯t see the bottom of, even though there were points of light from warped exposed cubicles jutting out from its walls all the way down. James twisted just in time to see the maimframe, wounded, leaking coolant, and *furious*, charging at him. Operating on reflex, and a little magic, he lined up his pistol from his curled position on the floor, and fired off the last six rounds he had. Two of them deflected off a flickering plasma shield, one just missed, and the other three hit the joints in the legs that James had been aiming at. His eyes went wide as his slapped together plan actually worked, and James kicked his legs wildly to shove himself sideways out of the way of the maimframe¡¯s bulk as its momentum carried it forward. The chunky machine crumpled forward on its wounded legs, and then half tumbled, once, before it just *barely* clipped James in the shoulder before sliding over the edge. It spun lightly as it descended out of sight, the only noise a few weak error tones dinged out into the open air. James, off the momentum of that tiny hit from the massive machine creature, found himself with no feeling in his left arm, and now sliding uncontrollably over the edge of the floor that was suddenly crumbling beneath him. He lurched forward, dropping his weapon to grab for *anything* that could save him, and his gloved hands met another set just like them, as Anesh caught him and hauled him back to his feet. The two of them stood the, stepping back to a safer vantage point, panting and coughing in exhausted relief. A minute and a half later, they heard the distant metallic screech as the maimframe hit the bottom of the abyss. ¡°Haaaaaah¡­¡± James gasped out. ¡°Okay. Okay.¡± He breathed in through his nose, deeply, taking his time with the motion, and then out through his mouth, before turning to face Anesh. ¡°I know.¡± He said. ¡°You okay?¡± Anesh asked, when he caught his breath. ¡°Yeah. Thanks for the save.¡± James let out another relieved whoosh of air. ¡°Aw, my gun!¡± He suddenly exclaimed, looking back out to where the floor ended and his weapon of choice had fallen to its doom. Anesh patted him on the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll get you a new one. Odds are good Nate has a new one ready for you already.¡± ¡°That one was bonded to the bracelet, though!¡± James protested. ¡°It¡¯ll take almost a year before this thing is useful for anything again!¡± He shook the mystical treasure looted from Status Quo currently adorning his wrist. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got good news for you.¡± Anesh pointed over the chasm, where a buzzing green insect shape was struggling to haul a firearm twice his own weight into the air. James plucked the struggling drone out of the air when he got close enough, and holstered the gun with a smooth motion. ¡°Ganesh, you¡¯re my favorite.¡± He said, giving the buggy drone a light pat before sliding him over to Anesh¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I just saved your life!¡± Anesh protested. ¡°Okay, second favorite.¡± James conceded with a smile. ¡°Oof. Man. Wish we hadn¡¯t lost the green from that big guy though.¡± He said, leaning over the canyon in the floor with his hands on his knees. ¡°How far down do you think that is? Wanna go check?¡± As far as James knew, Ganesh didn¡¯t have ¡®eyes¡¯, exactly. But it felt like the little drone was rolling them as he launched into the air again, and descended to the crash site. ¡°Okay, he¡¯s my favorite again.¡± James told Anesh. ¡°Also, we should head back after this. Research can find their own damn totem.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure they already have.¡± Anesh groaned, twisting back and forth while trying to pop his neck. ¡°And we¡¯re out here for nothing. Except to make my feet hurt.¡± ¡°I admit, this was a lot farther than I thought we¡¯d go.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I actually am. You wanted a quiet night, and I took us on a bike tour of the dungeon¡¯s interpretation of the Grand Canyon.¡± ¡°Ah, it was fun.¡± Anesh waved it off. ¡°Besides, this is a different body from yesterday, so I¡¯m not *actually* tired. It¡¯s just easy to forget that sometimes, and feel mentally drained in a way that doesn¡¯t match how many bruises I have.¡± ¡°I need you to understand how *absurdly* jealous of your clone power I am.¡± James had a gleam in his eye as he spoke. While they talked, he checked cubicles until coming back to the one where they¡¯d stashed their cart about ten doorways away, and started unloading orbs from pouches on his armor into it. ¡°Like, I want it so much. Not quite permanent-hive-mind-connection much, but *close*.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lot of jealousy.¡± Anesh nodded sympathetically. ¡°Hey, I thought poly people didn¡¯t get jealous?¡± James blinked, and then wrapped his boyfriend in an armored hug as he started laughing. When he let go, settling Anesh back on his feet and patting his own armored shoulders, he shook his head. ¡°Oh man, I love you, and that jealousy thing is not even close to true. But I can try to maintain the mystique.¡± He added, as Ganesh buzzed back to them and added another fist sized green orb to the pile. ¡°So, head back?¡± ¡°Head back. And then copy our compliment of greens. And then¡­ hey, I wanna make dinner tonight. I¡¯m thinking stir fry, you want stir fry?¡± Anesh found himself wearing a grin without even thinking about it, a warm feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with the exercise of pitched combat they¡¯d just been through. ¡°I would love some stir fry.¡± He said. ¡°Great! It can be my preemptive apology for giving all the orbs to the new kids to use!¡± James stated as he picked up the handle of the cart and started hauling it back to their rally point. Anesh rolled his eyes, the gooey lovey feeling vanishing rapidly as he jogged after his boyfriend. Overhead, twenty foot high spires of crumbling cubicle wall cast long shadows over the breach in the floor, the miles long canyon receding into the distance behind James and Anesh as the two of them headed back toward the door. They had mapped out a half dozen possible crossings, found an equal number of small treasures, made friends with a roving shellaxy herd, learned amature bicycle repair when James had been ambushed by a less friendly stapler pack, and thoroughly exhausted themselves doing all of it. Now, they coasted down the open hallways they¡¯d already carefully cleared of traps and enemies, making good time back. There were still three hours of safe delve time, and James knew a lot of the Order would be taking advantage of that. But for the two of them, the night was mostly over. All that was left now, was three miles of beige walls and grey carpet, and staying alert enough to be safe on the journey. _____ ¡°A long time ago¡­¡± James started to speak to the assembled people in the briefing room of the Order of Endless Rooms, before trailing off, and looking at the group before him. They¡¯d hired a bunch of new people. Well, provisionally, anyway. No one here had actually been dropped into a dungeon yet, despite the delve two nights ago. It wasn¡¯t that the Order didn¡¯t trust them, though they were all new, and trust and respect was something to be built over time. Mostly, it was a logistical problem; they¡¯d brought almost twenty people onboard, and while eventually some of them would undoubtedly not work out, all of them would probably get a turn just at least *seeing* the inside of Officium Mundi. Making sure those people were kept safe, and kept from doing anything stupid, kind of required them to not bring them in as one big group. James had a flashback to evacuating over fifty people in one disorganized mob, and shuddered. Now, they sat in rows behind folding tables in the cool air of the warehouse space, while James stood in front of them, to try to explain the Order¡¯s ethics. There were four software engineers, three construction workers, a therapist, a nanny, three high school interns, an EMT, a part-time-chef-part-time-firefighter, a barista, a sociologist, two ¡®administrative assistants¡¯, and two people who had the right attitude and could figure out what skill they wanted to define them later. ¡°...Okay, so, it was maybe half a year ago. But it feels like a long time.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°There was a conversation here, where we considered whether it was in the best interest of humanity to pick a few trusted people, and make them gods.¡± He looked at the group of people, who had gone from muttered conversations when he¡¯d walked in, to complete silence when he¡¯d started talking. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you the question we should have asked ourselves, then. Why wouldn¡¯t that work?¡± James paced a few times while the assembled people exchanged looks. Eventually, he pointed out a bronze skinned lanky man in the back row with his hand up, their erstwhile firefighter and-or cook. ¡°Is it because¡­ playing god is just a bad idea in general?¡± ¡°You know, I¡¯ve heard that a lot?¡± James smiled at them, doing his best to put on the aura of his favorite high school English teacher. ¡°And yet, so far, playing god has been working out mostly positive for us so far.¡± He pointed over at one of the high school students, who had his hand barely up and was looking like he was super uncomfortable with the number of adults he¡¯d been dropped into a room with. ¡°How ¡®bout you?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ well, you made us write about this already, so¡­ is it because it doesn¡¯t do enough?¡± ¡°Close.¡± James nodded. ¡°Closer, anyway. It doesn¡¯t do enough, fast enough. It¡¯s also just fundamentally unfair. The individual is important, critically so, but we have yet to find anything that would let one person enact as much good as a well constructed organization. A well designed *system*. And it¡¯s easier for everyone to live when the tools to help are available widely. A good society doesn¡¯t need gods. Or if it does, what it needs is for that spark of something greater to be spread out among as many people as possible.¡± He glanced around, and cleared his throat lightly. ¡°I should mention, since I see a few of you looking nervous, that when I say ¡®gods¡¯ I¡¯m using that colloquially as a stand in for ¡®people with an enormous amount of personal power, often focused through specific abilities or resources.¡¯ Not, like, ¡®religions¡¯.¡± He smiled as a few people relaxed a bit. ¡°Welcome to the Order of Endless Rooms.¡± James said, glancing down at the piece of paper he¡¯d taken the time to write an introduction on, and then ignored. ¡°This is your collective onboarding. I¡¯m gonna ramble for a little bit about the ethics of our organization, the different magics we¡¯re aware of, and then open it up for questions, with a small demonstration at the end. If anyone needs to use the bathroom, now¡¯s the time, because *oh man* do I like the sound of my own voice.¡± None of them moved, so James nodded, and moved on. ¡°You¡¯ve all been here for a little while now. And we¡¯ve mostly been giving you the week to get used to how the culture of the Order works, how the Lair feels to hang around. I hope you¡¯ve all been getting to know a few people around here, getting acclimated to non-human life, that sort of thing. Let¡¯s start there, shall we? Humanity isn¡¯t alone.¡± James took a breath, and faced the group. If they were paying attention before, they were *rapt* now. ¡°From sophont life forms like the camracondas, to more animalistic life like the shellaxies. There¡¯s creatures out there that most people have no idea exist. And some of them are super hostile!¡± James winced, thinking of the ratroaches in the Akashic Sewer. ¡°So here¡¯s our version of the prime directive, for you Trek fans. Every life has value, and has a right to live.¡± He cracked his knuckles, getting into a good pacing rhythm. ¡°Self defense is a real thing, don¡¯t get me wrong. But our core belief is that there, if *anything* in the universe matters, it is *people*. So keep that in mind, as context for everything else.¡± Some of the listeners nodded. James almost grinned as he noticed every one of the tech people in the more vigorous end of the nodding group. ¡°Now, you may think that the Order was formed to deal with nonhuman life. Nope! That¡¯s a side effect. A cool one, wild beyond belief, don¡¯t get me wrong, but still a side effect.¡± ¡°What do you *do*, then?¡± A raven haired girl with a nose like an arrowhead asked, breaking James¡¯ streak of uninterrupted dialogue. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you asked!¡± He grinned at her. ¡°We help people.¡± He paused, then decided to elaborate. ¡°We¡¯re still working on the specifics.¡± James admitted with a smile that was only *slightly* sheepish. ¡°But here¡¯s the framework; we have access to worlds and powers that most of mankind is unaware of. We have a chance, a tiny, *tiny* chance, to leverage that into things that could improve life for thousands, millions, billions of people. So, we¡¯re going to keep exploring, keep experimenting, and keep trying to do that. Our Order exists to help organize and connect people with the tools they need to break out of whatever obstacles hold them back, and start working to make the world better for everyone. One step at a time. We already know that you¡¯re the kind of people who want to do good. We¡¯re just here to help you do it. In your own ways, and in some new ones that you¡¯ll discover along with us.¡± James grinned at them in full now. ¡°Any questions?¡± Sixteen hands went up. He called on the closest person, one of the contractors who lowered their roughly calloused hand. ¡°Is this a communist thing?¡± The man asked. ¡°It is not.¡± James wanted to laugh, but held it back. ¡°Communism is more a system of government than an ideology. We¡¯re not a government, and if we ever rule the world, we¡¯ll probably be something other than communism.¡± ¡°Marxist, then?¡± The man continued, narrowing his eyes in a way where James couldn¡¯t tell if this was meant to be in good humor or not. ¡°Nnnno. Uh¡­ no. I¡¯ve read a lot of Marx lately, actually, and¡­ like, I know I joke about Fully Automated Luxury Gay Space Communism a lot, but that model really isn¡¯t rooted in Marxist ideology the way the name implies.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Also I mostly use that term because it¡¯s just fun to say ¡®Fully Automated Luxury Gay Space Communism¡¯.¡± ¡°Is it some sort of¡­¡± James cut the guy off, politely. ¡°The political alignment of our organization is best described as ¡®under construction¡¯.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯re building a lot of things here, and we¡¯re trying to do it by taking the best ideas that we can make work, and using those. Communism has some ideas that work; we¡¯ll steal those. Collective investment in our communities is a good idea, for example - I see the person with a sociology degree nodding, that¡¯s good, that means I¡¯m not completely wrong. Same as from every other political structure, global culture, and published philosopher we can wrap our brains around. But calling it communism wouldn¡¯t be accurate; our main guiding principle is to do good. That¡¯s all. Everything else is details, no matter what label those details resemble.¡± ¡°So¡­ um, can I ask a question?¡± The middle aged woman who James had hired to assist in being a caretaker for Clutter Ascent, asked. ¡°Go right ahead! We¡¯ve got time for a few questions before I have to go. Though you should all know, basically everyone here will make time to help you out if you need to know something.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± She nodded. ¡°What do you want from us?¡± ¡°Two things.¡± James answered, ticking them off on his fingers. ¡°First, we want more people, who mesh with our mindset to a reasonable degree, to help us explore the magical side of the world. We¡¯re already sure that most of you are ¡®good people¡¯, like I said; at the risk of shooting myself in the foot, I would assume that everyone here sees human suffering as a problem to be solved. Basically, we want you to take that attitude, and help us learn to be better wizards.¡± He tapped the second finger. ¡°The other thing is that we want you to do what you¡¯re good at. For some of you, we¡¯ve got our growing Response program, which is basically just crisis resolution with teleporters. For others, help building a magical city, or designing cybernetic security measures. There¡¯s a million things around here that need doing. But if nothing strikes your fancy, we expect you to find something. Identify a problem, mundane or arcane, and start solving it. We¡¯ll dump money and orbs into it.¡± ¡°Orbs?¡± The kid with a clip on tie sitting over with the other engineers asked, eyebrows raised and face scrunched up in a worried expression. ¡°Ah, that reminds me!¡± James said. ¡°I have¡­¡± He turned around the warehouse, looking for something. ¡°...Where did my partner put them¡­ ah!¡± He took long steps away from the area they¡¯d set up for this, and over to one the salvaged desks that people used when they were working back here. From half underneath this one, he pulled out a cardboard shipping box, which had been filled with twenty small black pouches. ¡°I have a gift for all of you.¡± ¡°What are these?¡± Someone asked as James started placing the bags in front of each person. ¡°Is this a cult thing?¡± One girl asked. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to join a cult.¡± ¡°I¡¯d be into a cult.¡± An intern admitted, blushing as James cocked an eyebrow at him. The engineers were not convinced. ¡°I¡¯m not going to drink anything that¡¯s in this.¡± The young woman among their number said, poking at the bag. James rolled his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not a cult thing. It¡¯s your welcome package.¡± He said. ¡°Our organization requires only one thing of you, fundamentally, which is for you to be your best. But a lot of what we do is dangerous. So, this is our Armory.¡± He unfolded his hands in front of himself. ¡°If you choose now to stay with us - and bear in mind this is not a permanent commitment - then this is how we help keep you safe.¡± He motioned for the first person to open their bag, and they did so, barely catching the contents as a collection of glimmering yellow orbs spilled across the table. ¡°So, let¡¯s talk magic.¡± ¡°Those are bath beads.¡± The girl who¡¯d made the cult comment chimed in. ¡°Those are fragments of souls.¡± James replied quietly. ¡°And if you¡¯ve talked to a camraconda at all, then you probably have a general idea of where they came from. These ones are a curated selection, which we¡¯ve put together to help jump start people into competence in a few important areas.¡± James glanced down at his notes, flipping through to the last page. ¡°Yellows, skills. Purple is for your body. Green for a place. Those are the only ones we¡¯ve included here, for now. You probably already know the rest if you read the manual.¡± James waved a hand. ¡°Two athletics skills, two for self defense, one on first aid, one for vehicle operation. We haven¡¯t found any other medical options, sadly. The two purple orbs will improve your short term memory and immune system by about a factor of five. You¡¯ll notice that there¡¯s a wooden dowel in there, too; break that with someone you¡¯re getting to know here, either in this room or otherwise. I won¡¯t explain more about that one. And the last thing, which is probably stuck in the bag you have there, is a shield bracer. These things come out without the actual useful part of the shield power, but it¡¯ll grow into it in time. Get used to wearing it. Use it. That¡¯s how it gets better.¡± ¡°What¡¯s this one?¡± The kid in the front asked, holding up the green orb that James hadn¡¯t explained. ¡°Ah! Good news.¡± James said. ¡°Every green orb here is something we need to test. I figured we could start with those, so you could all see how we play fast and loose with things like ¡®zoning permits¡¯ and ¡®the laws of physics¡¯ around here.¡± He motioned to the high school student, who suddenly looked a little nervous about the object in his hand. ¡°Go ahead. Pop that. And then, write down what it tells you. Sometimes it¡¯s not obvious to an outside observer.¡± The kid nodded, swallowed nervously, and with one last look at James giving him a reassuring nod, crushed the orb in his hand. ¡°Uh¡­¡± He said, a second later. ¡°Woah. Wooooah, that¡¯s so cooool!¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it just?¡± James¡¯ voice held a warm note of laughter. ¡°So, what did you change?¡± ¡°Uh, it added twenty two minutes of time for organization every day? Also I know how to design crossword puzzles now.¡± The kid looked around at the other potentials who were all looking at him curiously. ¡°What does that mean?¡± He asked. James shrugged. ¡°We see those sometimes. It probably means shelving stuff or moving storage around. So now there¡¯s extra time in the day here to do that. Unless you meant the crossword thing, in which case...¡± ¡°What the fuck.¡± One of the engineers said. ¡°What the *fuck*!?¡± Four other people echoed. ¡°Yeah, welcome to the Order.¡± James gave them a toothy smile, the feeling of excitement he never *really* got rid of burning in his blood like lightning. ¡°Now. Everyone try out your first bit of magic, if you feel ready for it. And just so everyone knows; there¡¯s no withdrawal symptoms or side effects from this. We¡¯ve been abusing these for over a year now, and it just¡­ works. They work. And yes, that is weird. If you want to delve into that question, Research will take anyone with a pulse and a sense of curiosity.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But for me, well. This is how we¡¯re going to do it, you know? We¡¯re going to make the world better. And you¡¯re welcome to do it with us.¡± James met their eyes. A few of them looked skeptical. A few of them gave him nods of acknowledgement. A few of them were trying to untie the nightmarish knots that Anesh had put on these things and get to the orbs as soon as they could. That last group was mostly the engineering recruits. ¡°Now. Greens first, one by one. I need to write those down, and then I have to go. Then, you¡¯re free for the day to poke around the Lair. But this time, if you don¡¯t disagree with the ethics I laid out here, and you want to stick around, do it with an eye for what you want to be part of. Not just us as a group. But what you want to *do*.¡± He grinned as he noticed a few people, especially the younger ones, shifting in their seats. ¡°Told you I liked to hear myself talk. Alright, alright, do the magic.¡± He conceded, unfolding his laptop and opening a notepad file. [Local Area Shift : +8 Shelves] [Local Area Shift : +2 M^3 Fridge Space] [Local Area Shift : +3 Needed Nutrients / Prepared Meal] [Local Area Shift : -8.33 lbs Trash / Day] [Local Area Shift : -5% Fear] [Local Area Shift : Production Time - Coffee - -164 second] [Local Area Shift : +1 Closet] [Local Area Shift : Delivered Mail - Lost Parcels - -3/week] [Local Area Shift : Value - Stairwell - +$4,111] [Local Area Shift : Furniture - Operational Life - +1.6 Years] [Local Area Shift : +23 Minutes Allocated to Learning / Day] [Local Area Shift : -1 Accounting Error / Year] [Local Area Shift : -7 kW-h Required] [Local Area Shift : -$1,255 Rent / Month] [Local Area Shift : +20 kg/M^3 Insulation Density] [Local Area Shift : +1 Tree] [Local Area Shift : +8% Solar Panel Efficiency] [Local Area Shift : Fabrication Time - Printing - -38 Seconds] It was as James was noting down the last one, and already getting *very* excited about the prospects for mass duplication for some of these, that he was approached by one of the class. Most of them had fallen on the orbs like candy - oh man, he should have put dungeon candy in there, he¡¯d do that next time - and were now excitedly talking to each other. He¡¯d let them all know that they were welcome to explore the Lair, and that there were certainly other Knights here to talk to them if they had questions, but that he was on a time limit, so he wasn¡¯t going to do much more chatting. The man who approached him placed the bag on the table James was using for his laptop, the knot tied back into something much more elegant than what Anesh had originally done with it. He was a burly dude, probably in his late forties, but with muscled arms poking out of his coat. The man had facial hair like he was locked in a divine struggle with destiny itself over whether he should have a beard, and today, he¡¯d barely come out on top. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s why we¡¯re only up to nineteen.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s Rick, right? What¡¯s up?¡± He asked, pushing back his chair and facing the man. ¡°I don¡¯t think this place is for me.¡± The man, Rick, spoke. James frowned in concern. ¡°Oh?¡± He prompted. ¡°I mean, I understand that the magic thing is a little weird, and to be fair, we don¡¯t *really* have a good intro to that, but¡­ wait, is that it?¡± ¡°No, no. It¡¯s not that.¡± Rick shifted his feet, linking his hands behind his back as he talked. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d fit in here. Oldest guy in the room, you know? And maybe I¡¯m wrong, but I just don¡¯t think you can help everyone.¡± ¡°Heh.¡± James flickered a smile, glancing down at the table before raising his head and making eye contact. ¡°Yeah, maybe.¡± He said. ¡°And I get it, a lot of us probably look pretty young. Maybe a little too idealistic, right?¡± Rick tipped his head. ¡°More or less.¡± ¡°Yeah. Well, you know how it goes. Idealism is what you have before you learn how powerless you are, right?¡± The sudden tensing of his shoulders and the momentary gritting of his teeth in surprise told James that comment had landed. ¡°How did you¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m idealistic.¡± James said. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we didn¡¯t do some alarmingly thorough background checks. You worked in a half dozen political campaigns, two charities, and actually served a tour with the Peace Corp before you... well, I won¡¯t say ¡®gave up¡¯, but I feel like you¡¯re maybe not living your best life doing siding and roofing.¡± He stood up, and rolled his shoulder in a casual motion. ¡°So here¡¯s the deal. I¡¯m not going to say that we can help everybody.¡± James looked down at the armory bag on the table, tapping it with one finger. ¡°But we can at least help somebody. Anybody.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll never work.¡± The older man looked down at James and shook his head. ¡°But it might.¡± James grinned back. ¡°Want to find out how far we can get?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± ¡°If not, I understand.¡± No grin this time, just quite words, and deeply personal ones. ¡°I¡¯ve lost people following this path. And it¡¯ll probably happen again. I don¡¯t think anyone should choose that lightly. But I genuinely believe we can make a *difference*.¡± Rick breathed heavily through his nose, running a clenching hand across his chin and neck. ¡°How can you be sure?¡± He asked. ¡°I want to, but¡­ I need to know why you¡¯re so certain.¡± James cackled. ¡°If they thought I wasn¡¯t going to change things, they wouldn¡¯t have tried to kill me.¡± He said with a toothy smile. ¡°Now. You¡¯ve got plenty of time to think about it, but even if you decide not to stay around, try out your orbs. If anyone¡¯s earned it... ¡° He trailed off, shrugging. ¡°Also Anesh is gonna want to know what that last green is.¡± ¡°...Alright.¡± It was one word. But it was spoken with a tight lipped conviction that James was starting to recognize more and more in the people around him. Rick undid his own knot on the bag, and pulled out the emerald sphere that had been left in there for him earlier. ¡°So, just crush them? Why?¡± ¡°No idea.¡± James laughed. ¡°So many things we don¡¯t know! But it¡¯s not that hard, I did it by accident the first time.¡± Shrugging burly shoulders, the other man smashed the orb into his palm. And James felt the ground ripple under his feet. ¡°Oh.¡± James said, looking down, suddenly alarmed. ¡°Oh no.¡± ¡°It said¡­ uh¡­¡± Rick furrowed his brow, wrinkles on his forehead standing out against a receding hairline. ¡°That¡¯s so weird. The skill part, it¡¯s like I know¡­ oh, right. It said that it added¡­¡± ¡°It said it added a basement.¡± James finished for him. ¡°Yeah. Thanks. Okay. Welcome to the Order, you¡¯re gonna see me make this face a lot. I have to go. Everyone have a good night!¡± He hustled out of the room, and as soon as he was out of sight of most of the new people, sprinted to the elevator. _____ ¡°James.¡± James didn¡¯t move. If he stayed perfectly still, in the spacious alcove under his desk, then Anesh would leave, not ask him questions, and everything would be fine. ¡°James, I can see the chair spinning, I know you¡¯re in here.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice even sounded like he was rubbing at his forehead. ¡°I¡¯m not mad about the basement, I¡¯m just here to drop off your lunch.¡± Cautiously, James poked his head over the edge of the desk to see Anesh standing in the doorway holding a paper sack. ¡°Did you get me a gyro from that place in LA you like to go to?¡± ¡°No, I did not. The lunch was a clever ruse.¡± Anesh stated. ¡°I am mad about the basement.¡± ¡°I knew it!¡± James exclaimed, leaping up and slamming his hands onto the wooden surface of his desk. ¡°It wasn¡¯t even my fault this time! I just took the notes!¡± He abruptly lapsed back into a much calmer but also very rapid speech pattern. ¡°Also we sort of lack the ability to make meaningful decisions when it comes to the green orbs which has led to logistical problems like this one. Even though I would actually classify an extra basement as a huge boon to the problem of lack of space we were already experiencing. I¡¯m thinking of turning it into a camraconda temple, what do you think?¡± ¡°Okay, pause for breath.¡± Anesh told him, smirking. ¡°Also I double lied. I got you a chicken gyro; you like garlic right?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good. Because this thing is mostly garlic.¡± Anesh slid the paper bag across the desk to his boyfriend. He didn¡¯t sit, though; he had places to go and no time for a super long chat. ¡°Anyway. The basement is actually the closest to what our building probably *should* have, which is nice. Big stonkin industrial space, concrete floor, flood lights, overhead HVAC pipes that don¡¯t appear connected to anything, that sorta thing. One single room, the rough dimensions of our building. So I vote we put Research down there, and use their space for something else. Maybe personal projects.¡± James shuffled back into his chair, unwrapping his food and noting that Anesh had, specifically, gotten him lunch with a lot of *very spicy* sauce. His nose was burning and he was a couple feet away from the meal still. This, James decided, was probably how Anesh took revenge. ¡°I dunno if Research will like the change in environment.¡± He said. ¡°We can always put up dividers and get better lighting.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°In fact, I kind of assumed they¡¯d do it in the background if we left them alone long enough. Reed is shockingly efficient at running things, for someone who¡¯s barely twenty and looks like he¡¯s constantly just rolled out of bed.¡± ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s with all the relentlessly impressive kids working for us?¡± James muttered, trying to figure out what part of the overflowing wrap he was supposed to bite into first. ¡°It makes me feel old.¡± ¡°Well, all the unimpressive ones left.¡± Anesh told him with a snort. ¡°Except Ethan, who is *still* hanging in there.¡± ¡°Is he getting better?¡± James asked, genuinely empathetic for the younger man. ¡°He wasn¡¯t doing okay after the Status Quo assault.¡± Anesh sighed lightly. ¡°I think so. Lua recommended him to a therapist, and I think he¡¯s got a sleeping medication that helps him out. I¡­ I know we joke sometimes, but¡­¡± ¡°No, I know.¡± James said firmly, setting his lunch back down. ¡°It¡¯s pretty telling that our *least* impressive knight is someone who was still willing to risk his life to protect other people. And I need to stop making light of that.¡± Anesh smiled at his boyfriend. ¡°As long as you know.¡± He said quietly. ¡°We¡¯re all in this together, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± James muttered. Then he perked up, and added, ¡°Oh! Karen said she was gonna email me something later about maybe another lead on Alanna.¡± He gave Anesh an excited eyebrow waggle. ¡°Wanna come with me to check it out?¡± He asked, before seeing that Anesh had slumped slightly. ¡°What¡¯s up, you okay?¡± ¡°I just¡­¡± Anesh looked away, leaning against the door frame. ¡°It¡¯s been months. And every possibility has been a dud. Not even dead ends, just nothing.¡± He worried at his lower lip, before saying what he¡¯d been afraid of this whole time. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ it doesn¡¯t feel¡­ every time, you get so excited, and then exactly the opposite when it doesn¡¯t work. And I don¡¯t want to say that I think Alanna is¡­ gone¡­¡± ¡°Then don¡¯t say that.¡± It came as a surprise to both of them, how sharp James¡¯ voice sounded. ¡°But it¡¯s been months. At the very least, she doesn¡¯t want to come back.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I don¡¯t know *why*, but¡­¡± He trailed off, just generally hurt and confused. James pushed his gyro away from himself, and sat back, looking over to the wall of his office and the woefully disorganized bookshelf he kept there. Anything to distract himself, for a moment, from the unexpected hurt. When he finally spoke, it was as composed as he could make himself. ¡°Maybe she doesn¡¯t.¡± He told Anesh. ¡°But maybe she¡¯s just lost. Maybe we can do something. Maybe¡­ there¡¯s a lot of maybes. I¡¯m not ready to give up yet.¡± He met Anesh¡¯s eyes, and his partner looked back at him, before nodding. ¡°Yeah. Okay. Not yet.¡± Anesh sighed, and checked his phone, noting that he had a dozen messages waiting. ¡°Alright, I need to go. I¡¯ll see you later tonight, and we can check that out. And *no more basements*.¡± The parting statement was exactly the kind of levity James needed to actually taste his food. He appreciated Anesh so much, sometimes. And as he suffered through food spicy enough to melt human bones, he considered that he should really just say that out loud more often. _____ ¡°Property damage, unlawful use of firearms, possession of explosives, and public endangerment.¡± The police captain read out the briefing to the assembled room of officers. ¡°Currently, we have two suspects from security footage, both male, mid to late twenties, one caucasian, one appearing arabic. They arrived on foot, almost immediately before the incident, and then vanished.¡± He clicked a button and the displayed screen ran a copy of the footage. ¡°Where did they come from?¡± One officer asked. ¡°It¡¯s unclear from the camera angle.¡± The department¡¯s IT guy admitted. ¡°This was the only one, and the building across the street hasn¡¯t given us any footage yet...¡± The capitan nodded sagely. ¡°Rogers, you and Moyer go down there today and ask again. Threaten them with a warrant if they don¡¯t want to be nice about it.¡± He glanced back at the frozen frame on the projection. ¡°These two shot up cars, and set *something* on fire, but didn¡¯t hit anyone. What were they doing there?¡± He looked back at the briefing room and the half-awake police officers filling it. ¡°Suggestions?¡± ¡°Vandalism?¡± Officer Waters unhelpfully drawled, helping himself to another stale doughnut. ¡°Those rifles aren¡¯t the kind of things you break out for casually egging someone¡¯s car.¡± Another officer rolled his eyes. ¡°They were there for something. Robbery?¡± ¡°Nah.¡± Sergeant Barker¡¯s voice was both tired and bitter at the same time. ¡°Two college age kids in bad cosplay like that? Political bullshit. Maybe just intimidation. Could be linked to the protests downtown, actually.¡± ¡°The intimidation angle sounds reasonable.¡± The captain hummed in a low voice. ¡°Run the plates on the damaged vehicles. Contact the owners. Take Waters with you.¡± The man sat forward in his chair, straightening his back. ¡°Yes sir. But¡­ four people? For this?¡± ¡°You have something better to be doing?¡± ¡°No sir.¡± The officer said. ¡°It¡¯s just a lot for random vandalism, even if it is assault.¡± The captain shook his head. ¡°These two are heavily armed, and apparently on a hair trigger. I want them found, yesterday. And if any of you encounter them while on patrol, remember. They are *armed* and *dangerous*. So don¡¯t take any chances. Understand?¡± The officers in the room didn¡¯t look at each other, didn¡¯t make eye contact or give knowing nods. But they understood. ¡°Good.¡± The captain said. ¡°Get to work. It¡¯s another day on the job.¡± Chapter 138 ¡°Only those who show mercy can expect to receive it.¡± - Tanya Desjani, The Lost Fleet- ¡°Oh, holy shit! I blinked, and I missed Christmas.¡± James grumbled to whoever was near enough to hear. Currently, the people near enough to hear were numerous. Anesh, Ann, Deb, Nate¡­ everyone who¡¯d teleported out into the normal world to firebomb stuffed shirts yesterday. Harvey, too, who was the one running this debriefing. ¡°You missed New Years, too.¡± Momo told him with a cheerless smile. ¡°And suddenly it¡¯s a lot less funny that you kept saying it was December.¡± ¡°Well fuck.¡± James considered throwing his arms up, but couldn¡¯t remember the last time he hadn¡¯t been sharply sore. Weren¡¯t humans supposed to build muscle mass over time if they kept doing stuff like this? It wasn¡¯t fair. He looked back at the preliminary report Harvey had written about the combat. Harvey, James had been unsurprised to learn, wrote *reports*. In retrospect, it made sense; there was a very good reason for the mental image of police officers being expected to fill out copious amounts of paperwork after an incident. But it was the kind of thing that James wouldn¡¯t have started to set up himself. Which was why he¡¯d more or less let Harvey steal the system from an actual police department, then modify it for their use. The report, incidentally, had the date on it. Which is what had provoked his swearing. Date of incident, names and ranks of those involved, reality of origin for opposition - that one wasn¡¯t normally on the form - lines for damages, injuries, contact information for anyone they might need to get in touch with later¡­ it was very comprehensive, even if they didn¡¯t need everything from it *now*. Some day, they might, and when they did, they¡¯d be able to search for it with a short keyword string. ¡°Alright, so, the incident was resolved without Order losses.¡± Harvey said, getting them back on track. ¡°Were there any civilians hurt?¡± ¡°Uh, kind of?¡± Deb looked around at the others. ¡°Ours weren¡¯t trying to kill anyone, though.¡± ¡°What?¡± James asked. ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°Well, we got there just as they did the thing with the purples - which I¡¯ve heard you *talk* about, but never seen, and man does it look weird! - and we didn¡¯t have time to stop them or anything, so they planted an infomorph in the person they were after. Or, well, in someone, anyway.¡± ¡°Incept.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°The word for forming an infomorph.¡± ¡°Good word.¡± Deb hummed appreciatively. ¡°Jesus.¡± Harvey muttered. ¡°This was on the third, or fourth deployment?¡± He asked, pulling up the map of the day¡¯s events. ¡°Third.¡± Deb confirmed. ¡°Alright. Do you know who it was? Any way to get in touch with them?¡± ¡°No, sorry.¡± Deb winced. ¡°There was the next problem coming up, and we had to hurry back, and¡­ I just didn¡¯t think about it. It¡¯s my fault, I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± James told her, reassuringly, noting Harvey nodding along with him. ¡°We¡¯ve literally never done this before. You just pulled off a military mission that most people shouldn¡¯t ever have to participate in; you get some slack, okay?¡± Deb shook her head. ¡°Still¡­¡± She seemed very put out by the whole thing. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be better.¡± ¡°No, we¡¯re supposed to *get better*.¡± James corrected. ¡°Anyway. We can ask Karen to track the victim down. And then get¡­ someone¡­ to¡­¡± He trailed off into silence. Something felt wrong. The folding chair he was sitting in was suddenly too many textures, the room around him too large and too small. James looked down at his hands, and the feeling of something crawling, coiling around them flared to life. ¡°To¡­¡± He closed his eyes. And then, the feeling was gone. Reality snapped back, reasserted itself. ¡°Hm. I guess I don¡¯t know what we do against a hostile infomorph.¡± He said, shaking his head and trying to clear out the feeling of vertigo. ¡°Also I may be concussed; not sure how that happened, but my head is spinning.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll check you out after this.¡± Deb told him. ¡°Also, Momo, isn¡¯t Research trying to create a tame infomorph?¡± ¡°Friendly, not tame!¡± Momo shot back enthusiastically. She was the only one here wearing armor, since she was actually pulling a shift with Response, and wanted to be ready if anything came up. She had, naturally, added decorative silver studs to the black shell of the shoulder plates. ¡°But yeah, they¡¯re doing something with that.¡± ¡°*I* thought I told them to *stop* doing something with that.¡± James dryly added. ¡°They took that under advisement.¡± Momo told him. Harvey sighed. ¡°Guys, please. Can we stay on track? Were there any other injured civilians?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said. ¡°When we linked up with Ann¡¯s group, there was a truck driver or something who got a few ribs broken when a pallet fell on him. Anesh warped him to the hospital. We have his number, just in case, you should have that.¡± He told Harvey. ¡°Yeah, I got it. Okay.¡± Harvey nodded, tugging on his beard. He hadn¡¯t shaved in a while, but it was looking good on him. ¡°And Ann, you¡¯re doing alright?¡± ¡°No broken bones or anything like that.¡± Their newest knight answered. She still wasn¡¯t actually sure how she¡¯d transformed from part time prep cook working for Nate to part time peace officer and soldier. ¡°I have stitches. Do I get hazard pay for this?¡± She asked. ¡°...Yes?¡± James said, as everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged, ¡°I mean, yeah? Should we do that? I don¡¯t actually know how¡­hm. You know what? I¡¯ll think about it, and get back to you.¡± ¡°Yeah, fair enough.¡± Ann said. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m not dead, and it itches, but I¡¯ll live. Why don¡¯t we have health potions, anyway?¡± Anesh burst into the conversation, ¡°That¡¯s what I said!¡± He yelped. ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± ¡°On task, please.¡± Harvey cut that mutual complaint run off early. ¡°Does anyone have anything else they need to add to the report?¡± He asked. ¡°There was one girl who seemed to know why she was being targeted.¡± James said. ¡°She was afraid of us, though. I gave her a card, tried to be calm about it. But¡­ does anyone have any idea why *these people*?¡± The room went quiet, except for the hum of computer fans and air conditioning. No one had a good answer. No one even had an idea. They hadn¡¯t always seen the people the stuffed shirts were after, but they¡¯d clearly been going to places where people were. And if what Deb had seen was the point, then they weren¡¯t out there to kill, but to plant more infomorphs in people. Maybe to keep the dungeon¡¯s secrets, maybe to spread its influence. Was it after the people who had contact with rival dungeons? Was it trying to keep more powerful delvers out of its own space? Was it even ¡®on purpose¡¯, or was this just a random encounter run amok? Momo split the silence, slapping her knees and hopping forward off her chair. ¡°I got nothing!¡± She declared. ¡°And I¡¯m gonna go get a sandwich. Unless there¡¯s anything else, Harv?¡± ¡°Please eat light, you¡¯re on call.¡± He told her, exasperated. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I can artificially decrease my mass if I need to!¡± Momo waved over her shoulder as she left the Response room, followed shortly afterwards by a slow stream of most of the rest of the briefing. ¡°Should we be concerned about that?¡± Anesh asked James as the two of them waited for the door to clear up. ¡°What, that Momo is absolutely being irresponsible with phenomenal cosmic power, or that she can reduce mass?¡± ¡°The mass thing.¡± ¡°Yes. But she said ¡®her mass¡¯, not ¡®mass¡¯, so it¡¯s probably not as exploitable as we¡¯d like. Though I *am* kinda curious as to where she got that.¡± ¡°Blue, probably.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°A lot of those - I mean, somewhere around 80% a lot, I have the numbers - deal with telling physical laws to get bent. So it¡¯s probably that.¡± They exited the briefing room, with James making a promise to Harvey to be available for a few hours later to fill a gap in the Response roster. Stepping out into the dining room, lit in bright but cozy tones, was a rapid shift from the dark room where Harvey did his work. There were people here. There were more and more people here every time James blinked. They¡¯d hired. Actually recruited. And now the auspicious number of tables and comfortable chairs that James had filled this place with suddenly seemed less aspirational when you had a combined sentient membership of over a hundred people. At one table, Simon sat with a couple camracondas and a member of the support group, locked in discussion about what it meant to be ¡®a person¡¯. One table over, a couple of the new people were reading hard copies of the operations manual, alternately scowling or grinning at it. Another group was made up of the new engineers, listening to¡­ what was his name, John? One of the original rescues, part of Sarah¡¯s therapy sessions in some way... explaining the known technical specs of a skulljack. A dozen camracondas throughout the room tried to not be too obvious with their worshipful gazes toward the new kid eating in the back, who was currently sharing a table with an FBI field agent dealing with her worst foe, paperwork; the two of them in a quiet alliance securing one of the tables without having to worry about anyone mistaking the empty chairs as free space. The whole thing made James feel warm inside. They¡¯d built a bizarre *home* here, and seeing everyone talking, working, learning, and just being so damn *alive*, even as the world got worse and worse around them, was inspiring. Uplifting. ¡°Oh, by the way!¡± James said to Anesh, checking the trays on the tables to see what Nate was making today. It looked like fish. He was gonna have some of that, for sure, later. ¡°How did the copy of Virgil¡¯s disc go?¡± Anesh let out a low whistle through his teeth as they made their way back to the warehouse area. ¡°Hooooo boy. It works.¡± He did not sound super excited. ¡°Normally when things work, it¡¯s good¡­¡± James prompted. ¡°It is! Though¡­¡± Anesh winced. ¡°Okay, you know how bitcoin mining is destroying the planet?¡± ¡°I¡¯m vaguely aware that cryptocurrency has roughly the same environmental impact as all of New Zealand, yes.¡± James nodded. ¡°Oh! We should kill bitcoin!¡± ¡°Pause on that.¡± Anesh cut him off. ¡°So, the disc copied. Which is great, because the program on it won¡¯t, but the whole thing¡­ whatever, it¡¯s magic. Anyway. It works fine, doesn¡¯t have diminishing returns, but it requires the hardware to be on or it doesn¡¯t do anything.¡± ¡°Yeah, about that. How does it decide who gets the buff? Did you figure that out?¡± ¡°It¡¯s whoever it¡¯s assigned to. There¡¯s a sort of mental push you can do when you run it, it¡¯s¡­ magic.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I really wish we had better words for this sort of thing.¡± He waved his hand around to indicate that ¡®this sort of thing¡¯ encompassed most of what their lives had become at this point. ¡°The point is, it eats up a lot of processor power. And honestly? I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a stumbling block for us. We could probably build a server rack with five thousand CD trays just to¡­¡± ¡°Wait, it only runs *off the disc*?¡± James groaned. ¡°That¡¯s so inconveniennnnntttt.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh flatly stretched out the word. ¡°It *is*. Welcome to my TED talk.¡± He rolled his eyes as he pushed open the back door to the warehouse workspace. ¡°The point is, it ¡®works¡¯ well enough. And it makes me think we need to devote a lot more effort to figuring out where Virgil got it from.¡± ¡°I would be very annoyed at him were he alive.¡± James admitted. ¡°So, you¡¯re immune to venom now? It was venom, right? Or was it poison?¡± ¡°Well, no. I¡¯m 4% resistant to venom.¡± Anesh corrected. ¡°Which, all things considered, is pretty good. We don¡¯t really have that many computers around here that have CD trays, so getting¡­¡± ¡°Shellaxies.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What about running it on the shellaxies?¡± James asked. ¡°Just¡­ out of curiosity. Sometimes our magical bullshit amplifies itself.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think¡­ hm.¡± Anesh thought for a second, settling into a leaning position against the desk that James had piled a bunch of architecture and political science books on. James, while his boyfriend thought about the question, flopped on his reading couch and started reading the news on his phone. ¡°Okay, I think it just buffs the shellaxy.¡± Anesh finally answered. ¡°Also, why are we back here?¡± ¡°What?¡± James looked up from an article about election results. ¡°I followed you.¡± ¡°No, I followed *you*.¡± James was glad he had pillows to hammer his head against. ¡°Goddammit. Okay. I¡¯m going back to my office. People keep wanting to talk to me, recently. I should be somewhat stationary.¡± ¡°Good call. I¡¯m gonna go discuss green orb stacking exploits with whoever in Research wants to put up with me.¡± ¡°I challenge you to find a world where they aren¡¯t a hundred percent into that, all the time.¡± ¡°...One where they¡¯re dead?¡± Anesh ventured. ¡°Wow, grim!¡± James rolled off the couch and to his feet. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get someone *else* to write the Order¡¯s holiday cards next year.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Anesh told him, the two sharing a grin and a kiss before they parted ways. _____ ¡°Yo. I¡¯m back.¡± JP rapped his knuckles on the frame of James¡¯ office door. He¡¯d actually *waited patiently* for James to finish talking to one of the new kids about something, and while he was very proud of himself for observing social niceties, it did sorta grate to not be doing something of high enough priority to skip the line. ¡°Oh hey!¡± James grinned at his friend. ¡°It¡¯s been¡­ wait, it¡¯s only been, like, two days since I saw you. Weren¡¯t you in Utah?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± JP said bitterly. ¡°Among other places. You busy?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for an answer, strolling in and claiming two chairs, one for his ass and one for his feet. ¡°I like what you¡¯ve done with the place. The sword on the wall is a nice touch.¡± ¡°That¡¯s only because I haven¡¯t gotten it inscribed yet.¡± James retorted. ¡°I¡¯m thinking, ¡®in case of cat¡­¡¯¡± ¡°You know, *some* people think I¡¯m a total badass for that whole thing!¡± JP countered. James cocked his index finger at his friend, leaning forward with a grin. ¡°Some people were there, and heard you scream in panic.¡± ¡°Touche.¡± ¡°Anyway! Enough of your shame. How was the trip, which I am now absolutely sure you appropriated telepads to accomplish.¡± James asked. JP was running the Order¡¯s version of an intelligence agency. He was still getting his bearings. Which was a polite way of saying it wasn¡¯t going great. Yet. ¡°Well, I got Momo to do whatever magic those weird computer chips need to make me some-¡± ¡°You literally just¡­¡± James started to cut him off, then paused. ¡°Whatever. I know about you and Nate building creepy surveillance networks. I¡¯m assuming you have one that searches for¡­ secret organizations?¡± ¡°Cults, specifically.¡± JP said. ¡°The general secret order thing is still growing or whatever. The *point* is that we got a few hits, and I went to say hi.¡± ¡°And?¡± James tried to speed this conversation up. JP was stretching it out, probably for dramatic effect. ¡°Well, the first one was a cult in the sense that they were a cult of personality.¡± JP winced. ¡°They had¡­ some not great policies. Also, they weren¡¯t prepared for what I believe you nerds call ¡®out of context JPs¡¯.¡± ¡°We tend to shorten ¡®JP¡¯ to ¡®problem¡¯, but yes. Also *you¡¯re a nerd too, you asshat*!¡± James admonished him. ¡°So that one was a bust?¡± ¡°Sort of. I feel like I probably leveled up at least once-¡° ¡°Nerd.¡± ¡°-and the girl they¡¯d kidnapped is currently recovering in our basement. Which sounds creepy. Hey, how long until we build actual apartments? You could probably manage something cool with all the orbs.¡± James stared at him, flicking his eyes from side to side like he was trying to figure out if this was a prank being caught on camera. ¡°Do you¡­ ever actually read the Order¡¯s message server? Listen to Sarah¡¯s podcast thing? Anything like that?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m busy. So I guess you¡¯re on it then?¡± ¡°Oh my god, just tell me about the second cult.¡± ¡°Well, the clue that I should have googled first is that they were called Dead Orbit-¡° James cut in. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not real.¡± ¡°I know that *now*, thank you.¡± JP refrained from rolling his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s a Destiny thing.¡± James added. JP stopped refraining. ¡°Yes thanks. Look, I know you probably think that¡¯s me being sloppy, but from what I hear, I was gone for not even an hour before you tried applying Air Bud logic to ownership of nuclear weapons.¡± ¡°Nate needs better infosec.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Especially when it¡¯s about stupid things I¡¯ve said. The last one?¡± ¡°They are called - and I swear to god I¡¯m not being a jerk here, this is what they call themselves - the Alchemists Guild. Well, the Guild of Alchemists. Whatever.¡± JP nodded as James winced. ¡°Yeah. *Yeah*. Really. So, you remember when we started¡­ this? And you took a long damn time to settle on calling it an order, because of all sorts of reasons about guilds being fundamentally capitalist and violent and things?¡± ¡°I remember that. How far off base was I?¡± James asked. ¡°Please say a lot.¡± He glanced up at the sword mounted at an angle over his desk. ¡°Do I need to get the bigger sword?¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t much, sorry dude.¡± JP shook his head. ¡°So, they are *secretive*. Like, to an extreme. But they¡¯re also incredibly theatrical, and I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s of their own volition, or what. If I had to guess at what¡¯s going on there, and I do, because that¡¯s my job now somehow, I¡¯d say they¡¯ve got a handful of ¡®things¡¯ from a dungeon, or maybe more than one, but not the dungeons themselves. And they¡¯ve figured out how to use those things for personal profit. Which they do, aggressively, but very small scale. I think they¡¯ve been around for a long time, too. There¡¯s old newspaper articles from sixty years ago with local myths about them, but no hard data. So, best guess, again, words I¡¯m learning to hate Nate for sharing with me, they have inherited methods with no knowledge behind them, but what they know how to do *works*. Like, big time works.¡± ¡°Works how? What are we talking about here, are they doing something creepy? Murdering kids, eating souls, whatever?¡± James was out of his seat, pacing around. His hands itched, like he should be holding something heavy, and sharp, in anxious anticipation. ¡°Nope!¡± JP cheerfully cut him off, leaning back with his hands behind his head and a gleeful smile. ¡°They are, no fuckin¡¯ joke, making and selling potions.¡± James stopped pacing. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Potions. Like from the games that-¡° ¡°I know what potions are. What do theirs do?¡± James narrowed his eyes. ¡°Are there any that are massive unethical grey areas, like love or invisibility potions or whatever?¡± ¡°Would it shock you if I said no?¡± JP said. ¡°It shocked me. Though, granted, I haven¡¯t done more than two days of survialence on them, and I absolutely am going to do more.¡± ¡°You were only gone for two days.¡± James said. ¡°You had three targets.¡± ¡°The first two took an hour, James. Please.¡± JP was smug enough that it could deflect bullets. ¡°The point is, I have made tentative contact. And, get this, they¡¯ve *heard of us*.¡± ¡°Oh no.¡± ¡°Oh yes!¡± JP nodded. ¡°That¡¯s why I got a discount.¡± He finished, reaching into the interior pocket of his light jacket, and pulling out a rectangular leather pouch. He set it on the desk, unclasped it, and flipped it open to reveal three thin, finger length glass vials, each filled with a light red fluid. ¡°Merry Christmas.¡± JP said. ¡°If those are health potions I¡¯ll kiss you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not my type, which is good, because they aren¡¯t.¡± JP said. ¡°Sorry dude, but *that* magic is still in the wind. No, these are¡­ okay, they had some stupid Latin name for it, but they¡¯re potions of exercise.¡± ¡°Wat.¡± ¡°You know how when you work out, you¡¯re actually damaging your body, and the soreness is it growing stronger muscles, or something? Well, these maximize that part, and also shorten the time window to about half an hour. Which I guess makes them like heath potions. But not for, like, cuts or cancer or whatever.¡± ¡°That¡¯s still pretty cool. Why only three?¡± James asked. ¡°Because they sell to the Hollywood underground.¡± JP told him. ¡°And we don¡¯t have enough in our treasury to compete with that bullshit.¡± He shrugged, and pushed the pouch farther across the desk. ¡°Also each of those is three or four doses. It¡¯s just a little something to prove they¡¯re real.¡± ¡°This is so cool.¡± James said, holding one up. ¡°So, we can just¡­ buy from them? Do they take checks? Wait, Hollywood. Are they selling these to Arnold Schwarzenegger? Is that how he got so buff?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± JP said, unironically. ¡°They¡¯re bizarrely out in the open about it, too. They really weren¡¯t hard to find - that program wouldn¡¯t have flagged them if they didn¡¯t have a digital trail, after all. Which is weird for a bunch of old dudes that wear purple robes all the time. And no to the Schwarzenegger thing. I asked. He¡¯s apparently all natural, which is even more impressive now that I know magic is real and wizards will work on salary..¡± ¡°And I¡¯m guessing that their inventory is both mildly impressive, and absurdly expensive?¡± James asked, seeing where this was going already. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Oh, *so* overpriced.¡± JP nodded. ¡°Basically, their market is *not* people like us. People like us, and by us I mean delvers, are kind of a mystery to them, which is delightfully poetic. No, they sell to celebrities or the ultra rich that want to skip steps, and trade money for results, instead of doing hard work.¡± ¡°Ugh.¡± James groaned, massaging his eyelids. ¡°Even worse than monsters. Capitalists.¡± ¡°Hey, at least they produce something of value.¡± JP offered, not really doing a good job of springing to their defense. ¡°So, what do they offer?¡± James asked. ¡°Well, that minor healing thing I showed you, a dream draught whatever that means, potions for hair growth and skin renewal, and then a couple weird-ass ones, like a potion that oxygenates your blood for six hours, or one that improves reading speed for a day or so.¡± ¡°Okay, those last two are *awesome*.¡± James said, actually getting more excited again. ¡°Yeah.¡± JP nodded. ¡°And then there¡¯s this one, which¡­ well. Take a look.¡± And he pulled something out of his jacket. It was a small bulb of a vial, and had James not been distracted by its contents, he would have thought it was an overly fancy perfume bottle from the eighties, repurposed to something magic. But what was inside it, was a liquid that roiled like a trapped snake, thrashing and pressing dark scales against the bottle in an endless attempt to escape. It was blue. An eternal, dark, endless blue. James stared into it, and something stared back. Something he recognized. Something dark, and poisonous, and deeply personal. But also something else. Like seeing a flash of an old friend in a crowd, just as they turned their back. James stared, for what felt like days. JP¡¯s hand covered it up. ¡°Oof. Wow, they weren¡¯t kidding.¡± He said. ¡°What was that.¡± James whispered. ¡°Potion of cure depression.¡± JP said casually. Or tried to. Even for him, no matter how suave he could be normally, this part held a weight he hadn¡¯t fully prepared for. His voice was tight as he spoke, even while he tried to be light. ¡°Spent some of my own funds on this one.¡± He said, holding the bottle up and gazing at it. ¡°Looks like water to me. But they said¡­ well, you know.¡± He shrugged, and set the impossible object on the table. ¡°These don¡¯t sell well.¡± He told James. ¡°They¡¯re hard to make, whatever that means, and people who need them can¡¯t afford them. And then, no repeat customers. Which, I imagine, is why I could afford this at all.¡± He grinned a little at James. ¡°Barely. Hey, can I have a raise?¡± ¡°...why does it look¡­¡± James ignored his friend, staring at the bottle again. ¡°...like¡­ I know what that is?¡± ¡°It does that sometimes.¡± JP said. ¡°I think. Honestly, it could be wizard poison, I won¡¯t lie. I can¡¯t exactly test it. But if anyone needs that¡­ well. Merry Christmas.¡± He muttered, not making eye contact. After a minute of quiet, JP stood and stretched his arms, rotating his body back and forth in a dramatic show of motion. ¡°Well, I gotta go check in with Nate, make sure we aren¡¯t being targeted by interstellar assassins or anything. Be careful with that thing, ¡®aight?¡± He was halfway out the door when James spoke behind him. ¡°We really underestimate you, all the time, don¡¯t we?¡± JP laughed. Once. ¡°Nah, I think you¡¯ve got my number.¡± He said. ¡°Just don¡¯t tell anyone I can¡¯t name every organization name from any given video game, and we¡¯ll be even.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s gonna be enough.¡± James whispered to an empty room, after JP had gone. He was still staring at the roiling bottle on his desk, like just looking at it could unlock its secrets. ¡°Not enough at all.¡± _____ ¡°We possess questions.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust chimed from James¡¯ door. It was a day later, and he¡¯d restrained himself from downing the bottle JP had left him on the spot. There was almost the whole week before the Office opened up safely, and he¡¯d hold back until they could copy it. Because honestly, if it worked, then this was something he¡¯d distribute like candy across the world. This wasn¡¯t a potential tool like the skulljacks, this was a bullet to a very personal monster to James. So he was sitting in his office, pointedly not going down to visit the vault where he¡¯d locked the thing up. ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s up?¡± He said, motioning the camraconda in. ¡°I can fabricate some answers for you.¡± The snake slithered in, and took up a coiled position on a beanbag that James had specifically for these particular nonhuman visitors. ¡°Some of us, worried. We have lost friends.¡± James¡¯ heart sunk. Here it was. The point where the camracondas told him they didn¡¯t want to be part of this utopia project anymore. He¡¯d felt like it was coming for a long time, but right now, it came on the edge of a day of exhaustion and anxiety and he didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°I understand.¡± He said, instead of anything that mattered. ¡°I know what¡­ how bad that is.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust bobbed in a camraconda nod. ¡°You do.¡± She said. ¡°But you replenish numbers.¡± ¡°The¡­ new people?¡± James asked, confused. ¡°Yeah, we hired more people. We¡¯ll see how many of them work out. I have a good feeling about Chevoy. She seems¡­ energetic. Reminds me of Sarah, if Sarah knew how to build robots.¡± ¡°Robots are¡­?¡± The camraconda actually, for the first time James had seen, cut its own words off. ¡°No. Later. We require replenishing also.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± James paused for a second, not sure how to answer this. ¡°Sorry, do you mean that we should be recruiting more camracondas?¡± He asked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Okay. I don¡¯t¡­ disagree with you.¡± James leaned forward, placing his chin on folded hands. ¡°But that might be a challenge. Most of your species are unfriendly, at best.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust confirmed. ¡°Have no answer. Only objective.¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± James sat back. ¡°Well, I can think of one way, obviously. Use the telepads to kidnap other camracondas out of Officium Mundi. Break the connection, hold them in the basement until they can be¡­ woken up, I guess? What would you call it?¡± ¡°Personed.¡± ¡°Good word.¡± James hummed. ¡°Of course, that assumes that they¡¯d appreciate that. Or that you guys are okay with it at all, which I¡¯m not sure about. How does that idea strike you?¡± ¡°Lightly.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°Puppets are not persons. No ethics there.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s super worrying. Is that the prevailing attitude among your people?¡± ¡°My nest, yes.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°Others, maybe not. You said options?¡± ¡°Yeah, options. So, we could always try *making* more. Building physical shells and breathing life in with the orbs. Dave literally made Pendragon that way. The thing is, your bodies aren¡¯t¡­ normal? Like, you¡¯re made of materials that don¡¯t follow normal rules, and I don¡¯t know if we can recreate that without making a non-viable life. And I do *not* want to condemn someone to live that way.¡± ¡°Understand. Other options?¡± ¡°We could¡­¡± James thought for a second. ¡°We could try to copy a camraconda body? Using the projector. If we can make an empty body, we could bring that to life, probably. Or we could ask Clutter Ascent to try to make siblings for your people, though it might not be ¡®the same¡¯. I guess I should ask, what are you *looking for*? Like, what exactly is it you want?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust made a humming noise like a tape rewinding, and settled down in the beanbag. ¡°Unclear.¡± She admitted. ¡°I consider.¡± James waited for a minute for the camraconda to keep talking, before it became clear that she had no intention of doing so before deriving an answer for him. He smiled slightly to himself; this was one thing he loved about the camraconda culture. If they didn¡¯t have an answer, they¡¯d break off conversation, and sit in silent contemplation until they did. Or at least until they had the next stepping stone. The minutes passed in relative silence, with only the sound of voices from down the hall in Karen¡¯s office breaking up the quiet for a little while. He was still waiting for an answer, and working on an editing pass of new parts of the operations manual for the Response program, when Sarah wandered in. ¡°What¡¯s up buttercup!¡± She introduced herself, strolling into his office like she owned the place. ¡°Not much, bubbles. What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ making a Powerpuff Girls reference. Nevermind, the moment is ruined. What brings you to my office?¡± ¡°Just here to check in with you about the Akashic Sewer.¡± Sarah said. ¡°I¡­ oh, hey Barkdust!¡± She noticed the camraconda. ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t realize you were busy. Probably why you didn¡¯t reply.¡± ¡°The Sewer¡¯s open?¡± James said, taking a deep breath and feeling a lingering soreness in his ribs from the last time he¡¯d been down there. ¡°Oh good. I was worried I was almost out of bruises. And Texture-Of-Barkdust is just pondering a question while I work. Actually, on that note, quick check. Could the Clutter Ascent replicate a camraconda?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Sarah said, without hesitation. ¡°Probably. The biggest thing it¡¯s made so far has been Fredrick Umbra Ar-¡° ¡°Please just call it Fredrick.¡± ¡°Fiiiiine. Fredrick. But Ascent can make life, even if we don¡¯t know what the qualifiers are. But I get the feeling that it really does care about trying to comfort people, so it would certainly give its best effort to making a new camraconda.¡± Sarah toyed with her bangs as she spoke. ¡°Also, on your original question, yes, the Akashic Sewer is open. Should we go poke it?¡± ¡°We? As in, you plan to come too?¡± James eyed her. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re fully okay?¡± ¡°James, I broke my neck months ago. I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a normal human thing to say!¡± He snipped back. ¡°Though yes I am aware of what I just said, shut up.¡± James sighed. ¡°I worry about you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m the best weapon we have in there, so far.¡± Sarah told him with a sad smile. ¡°And I hate being a weapon, but I hate the weird hand tentacles more, so I¡¯ll keep putting sticks in them, kay?¡± She didn¡¯t wait for him to respond, turning to head out and giving a friendly head pat to Texture-Of-Barkdust as she turned. ¡°Oh! I actually wanted to complain, for a change!¡± She said when she was in the doorway. ¡°The support group are cheating!¡± ¡°Cheating on each other? Cheating on their taxes? Cheating¡­¡± James started rattling off suggestions, before Sarah stuck out her tongue at him and made a rude noise. ¡°No, you blob.¡± She said. ¡°They¡¯ve started listening to the podcast I do, *specifically to save people time*, and then packaging the memory of listening and understanding it, and then *sharing that file*. Like, they can¡¯t even spare twenty minutes a week! I¡¯m actually a bit offended!¡± James stared at her with wide eyes, before slowly putting his elbows on his desk, leaning forward to place his head in his hands, and letting out a soft scream. Then, he straightened back up with deliberate movements, and casually said, ¡°Wow, there¡¯s a lot of new stuff happening today.¡± As if he hadn¡¯t just had a small eruption and Sarah and Texture-Of-Barkdust weren¡¯t staring at him in concern. ¡°That¡¯s cool, though. Very cyberpunk! I¡¯m sure that won¡¯t be a problem for us ever.¡± James nodded, entirely to himself, before standing up. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m gonna go find some lethal pens to take into the school. Meet you in the parking lot in ten? Cool.¡± The human and the camraconda remaining in the room looked at each other, then out the door that James had casually slipped through, then back to each other. ¡°He appears tired.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust stated. ¡°I will think downstairs. Share later.¡± ¡°Good call.¡± Sarah told the snake. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go¡­ magnetize some wood. Hey, do you wanna come into the school with us? I bet we can sneak you past the students pretty easily.¡± ¡°Children annoy me.¡± The camraconda replied as the two of them headed for the elevator. ¡°Really?¡± Sarah was actually surprised. ¡°I didn¡¯t actually think there¡¯d been that many kids here. Wait, hang on! Weren¡¯t you talking to James about making new camracondas? Wouldn¡¯t they be kids?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust acknowledged simply. ¡°Is problem to consider.¡± ¡°Well¡­ so long as you consider it.¡± Sarah, who had never had the chance to be a real parent, but who spent a lot of time trying to fill that role in small ways with cousins and neighbors, smiled down at the camraconda. ¡°And hey, you all won¡¯t be alone in raising kids. Half the Order would for reals love to be part of that. It takes a village, right?¡± ¡°To what?¡± They stepped into the elevator. ¡°Huh?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°A village to what?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± She said, stabbing the button for the ground floor, smirking at the new label for the bonus extra basement. ¡°It takes a village to raise a child. It¡¯s an old human saying.¡± ¡°You have old sayings.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°We have¡­ very little. Don¡¯t want to lose it.¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± Sarah agreed. ¡°We¡¯ll have to talk about it.¡± She sighed. ¡°Figure out how to make everyone as happy as possible. Not ruin your culture. Help you be a *people*, if you want to be something separate from just part of the Order. It¡¯s all so much. More than I¡¯m qualified for. I should take some anthropology classes.¡± The camraconda made an amused tone. ¡°I will join you.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Sarah said, and then with a wide eyed cheer, ¡°Yeah, okay! Let¡¯s get you in a college course! Oh, that¡¯ll be fun! We can be homework buddies.¡± ¡°This sounds good.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust told her as the doors opened. ¡°Alright. Well, I gotta run. If you want to come to the Sewer with us, meet me at the door in ten minutes, kay? If not, have a good afternoon! Be good!¡± Sarah said as she walked backward, casually dodging a couple other people and camracondas moving through the lobby without looking at them. She waited just long enough for Texture-Of-Barkdust to give a bobbing nod, before she spun and practically bounded toward the warehouse entrance. There was no time to waste. Because she knew what James was thinking, about the school¡¯s nightmare dungeon, and she agreed with him. If any of the things down there were capable of redemption, then they were the ones who most needed the Order¡¯s help right now. And at the end of the day, helping people was what Sarah was all about. Even if she had to be somewhere slimy to do it. _____ [+16 Activations : Close Object] James made a facial expression halfway between a frown and a smile as the fresh blue orb sank into his wrist. He was sitting in his car in the parking lot of the high school, along with Sarah, Alex, and Texture-Of-Barkdust, everyone procrastinating going out into the dark grey rain between the vehicle and the building¡¯s doors under the guise of preparing for battle. ¡°You know, I feel like the orbs are learning from us. And not in a good way.¡± James mentioned offhandedly. ¡°How so?¡± Sarah asked, zipping up the bag she was using as a magazine for wooden projectiles. ¡°Well,¡± James tapped his hands on the worn leather of the wheel, ¡°it feels like all the ones I get now include the word ¡®object¡¯ where they wouldn¡¯t before. Like, ¡®close¡¯ is way better than ¡®close object¡¯, right? I think they¡¯re getting more limited.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we were ever supposed to even know we could use them this way, though, right?¡± Alex asked. ¡°I mean¡­¡± She paused briefly, shuddered, then continued like nothing was wrong. ¡°I was plugged into Karen-Net for a long time, and I don¡¯t remember most of it, but, I have this¡­ idea ghost, I guess?... that what you¡¯re doing with the orbs is sort of a cheat. Or a workaround, maybe.¡± She glanced out the window into the worsening rain. ¡°Not that it¡¯s bad or anything, just that we weren¡¯t, like, expected.¡± ¡°Good to know.¡± James sighed, and let the anxiety go. ¡°Hey, do you think there¡¯s alternate uses for the books? Like, what do you think happens if we stick a bunch of them on a shelf?¡± ¡°Well, we won¡¯t find out camping out in here all night.¡± Sarah told him. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± She boldly tossed open her door, and squeaked as a blast of wind threw a sheet of water directly into her face. ¡°Go *quickly*!¡± She added, dropping to the pavement with a small splash. Alex laughed from the back seat and followed, the shorter girl¡¯s feet landing clear of the puddle Sarah had helpfully pointed out. She turned and took a minute to shoulder Texture-Of-Barkdust. Alex had been working out, and felt an amount of pride that she could give the camraconda a lift without struggling too much. Texture-Of-Barkdust, for her part, appreciated it. She was wearing a camraconda coat, but it wouldn¡¯t do much to help her if she had to slither through puddles and mud. The four of them hustled to the door to the lower level of the school, James frantically waving through the glass to get Lua to come over and let them in. By the time she did, he was thoroughly damp, and glaring at the legs of his pants that were sticking to his skin. All of them were pretty wet, really, with the exception of Sarah, who had at some point gotten a bright yellow rain hood up. ¡°Hey Lua.¡± James greeted the school counselor. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s been a long day. Interesting, if nothing else.¡± The woman smiled back, letting the door swing shut behind them. ¡°We¡¯re not alone.¡± ¡°Did you hear about the alchemists, then?¡± James asked, turning the corner to head down the ramp to the semi-stable door to the Akashic Sewer. ¡°The what?¡± Sarah excitedly burst out from behind him. Lua caught up to him as he took another corner, this one going farther down than the school building should have had floors. ¡°No, I meant¡­ this.¡± She said as James took the turn, and saw someone else waiting down by the innocuous little dungeon portal. There was a woman standing there, at the bottom of the ramp. A maroon suit jacket and rather conservative skirt, and hair that was both long and unbound, and yet immobile. It glistened a bit, and James had the uncharitable thought that it probably took enough hairspray to open a new hole in the ozone layer. Her face had the kinds of wrinkles around the eyes and at the edges of her lips that a human got from a lifetime of either grinning, or scolding. James suspected he knew which one this was. She was speaking to a tall, overweight man wearing a police tactical vest and the blue-black clothing of a patrol officer. And as soon as James rounded the corner, both of them snapped their attention to him. ¡°Ah.¡± James said, stumbling to a stop at the top of the ramp. ¡°That¡¯s what you meant.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be here.¡± The woman spoke in a firm tone. And James instantly, in that moment, decided he didn¡¯t like her much. Every part of that sentence, from the words to the level of smug condensation, made it sound like she was talking down to him. Which was almost impressive, since he was the one at the top of the ramp. ¡°How did you get in here?¡± Lua was still standing behind the corner of the wall, out of sight, and James tilted his head at her to signal her to move back farther. ¡°The building has *doors*, you know.¡± James¡¯ mouth was open before he could stop himself, and he *almost* winced at his own words. But no, not this time. Full snark ahead. ¡°Also we¡¯re here to inspect your basement.¡± ¡°This building doesn¡¯t have a basement.¡± The woman spoke again, like her words would somehow change the literal truth. ¡°I should know, I¡¯m the principal here. And you are trespassing.¡± He glanced at the door behind them, then at the officer, who, to his credit, *did* look a little sheepish about the whole exchange. James took a deep breath. ¡°You *can* see the door behind you, right?¡± He asked, genuinely curious. He took a couple steps down the ramp before stopping as he noticed both the adults tense up. ¡°It¡¯s right there.¡± The cop glanced over his shoulder, and nodded, bald head glistening with a thin layer of nervous sweat as he turned back to keep an eye on James. He had his hand on his gun, though he didn¡¯t remember putting it there. The principle, though, didn¡¯t even look. ¡°There¡¯s no basement.¡± She said. ¡°Ma¡¯am¡­¡± The officer spoke. ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°There *is no basement*.¡± She said again, stomping up the ramp toward James and jamming an outstretched finger into his solar plexus. ¡°No. Basement. Now *get out*.¡± ¡°Alright, now hang on.¡± James was starting to get mad, but the older woman cut him off. ¡°Arrest him.¡± She ordered the cop. Again, showing more restraint than James expected, the officer paused. And then, as if he¡¯d made a decision, he gave a sad nod and said, ¡°Alright ma¡¯am. I¡¯ll take care of this. You should go back to your office, I¡¯ll file a report later.¡± The principle nodded, and gave James a *smirk* as she strode past him. James would have, in that moment, panicked, except everyone else had retreated back up the hallway and was presumably camping out in a classroom or something. A minute later, as the stomping click of heels on concrete faded away, James cocked an eyebrow at the cop. ¡°Aw, hell, I¡¯m not gonna arrest you.¡± The man said, tension draining out of his shoulders. ¡°Why¡­ what the shit. Why couldn¡¯t she see the door?¡± ¡°She could have.¡± James told him. ¡°If she¡¯d looked.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± ¡°But she was never going to look.¡± He confirmed with a nod. ¡°Yeah. She¡¯s¡­ I don¡¯t know what language to use to describe this to you. Haunted?¡± He shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s got something in her head that¡¯s not her.¡± ¡°You¡¯re serious.¡± The cop sighed. He didn¡¯t sound disbelieving, just *sad*, in a way James honestly hadn¡¯t expected. ¡°Fuck.¡± He turned and looked at the door again. ¡°Fuck!¡± He shouted, slamming a fist into the rusting blue metal with a loud clang. The noise drew attention. What felt like an instant later, Alex slid into view at the top of the ramp in a crouched position, one hand held out to her side with a blade in it. Sarah and Lua popped into view the next second, both of them looking worried but steady. Texture-Of-Barkdust made it down last, but instantly locked her eye onto the officer, though she didn¡¯t freeze him just yet. ¡°Calm down.¡± James rolled his eyes at his companions. ¡°It¡¯s fine. He¡¯s just having an existential crisis.¡± He took a few steps down the ramp, reaching the bottom in a trail of wet boot prints. ¡°Hey. You gonna be okay?¡± He asked the cop. The officer¡¯s eyes had locked onto the camraconda at the top of the ramp, and he only barely acknowledged James¡¯ question. ¡°It¡¯s all real, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna need to know what ¡®all¡¯ means here, to you.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°But a lot of stuff is real that maybe you might not expect, yeah.¡± The officer focused his eyes back on James, mind burning to keep up. ¡°You were here.¡± He said. ¡°During the gas leak. The one that wasn¡¯t a gas leak.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t, no.¡± James confirmed. ¡°And I was.¡± ¡°Rourke.¡± The man said, holding out a hand. ¡°James.¡± James replied, taking it and shaking once. ¡°We need to get through that door. You okay with that?¡± ¡°No problem.¡± The officer said without a scrap of hesitation. His eyes performed a quick and practiced scan of James¡¯ person, before checking the people at the top of the ramp; though he did linger for a bit on Texture-Of-Barkdust. ¡°Do you need a gun? I¡¯ve got a spare.¡± James heard Sarah cough from behind him, smothering *some* kind of sound. He shook his head. ¡°No, it won¡¯t let weapons in.¡± He said. ¡°Or phones. Really, anything you aren¡¯t allowed to bring into a school. Though it¡¯s gotten nicer, it *does* give them back when you leave.¡± ¡°Can you take a gun in if you have a badge?¡± Officer Rourke asked him, eyes tracing a grid across the metal and security glass of the unassuming door behind them. ¡°...I have no idea.¡± James admitted. ¡°We¡¯ll test that later.¡± He said. ¡°Alright everyone. Let¡¯s move. Clock¡¯s ticking.¡± The call to his party members went out. ¡°Do you want to come with us?¡± James asked the officer, a little apprehensive, but making the split second decision to trust the man. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± He said, barking out a hollow laugh. ¡°Maybe next time. Besides, I have to go tell that witch that you¡¯ve been arrested.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Alex exclaimed as she walked past. ¡°My best friend is a witch!¡± ¡°Is she serious?¡± The officer asked James in a politely quiet tone. ¡°She prefers the term ¡®war witch¡¯, because everyone I know was a drama student apparently, but yes.¡± James answered. ¡°Apologies, ma¡¯am.¡± The officer spoke up. ¡°But I still need to go. Uh¡­ excuse me.¡± He slipped around the camraconda, giving Texture-Of-Barkdust a wide berth as he moved to climb the ramp back to the real world. ¡°Hey. Be careful, okay?¡± He said. ¡°Yes sir.¡± James saluted him, only half mocking. The cop didn¡¯t roll his eyes, or snort or do any of the dozens of little gestures that James or his friends and allies had picked up over the years. He just gave a flat, uninterested gaze to the long haired young man who¡¯d just upended his world. Then he turned, and was gone. ¡°Well that was fun.¡± Sarah let out a stream of breath she¡¯d been holding. ¡°Should we go, now, or does anyone need a moment?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting here.¡± Lua said, claiming her chair again, and picking up her book. ¡°There *are* students here, after all.¡± ¡°Still hate that.¡± James said. ¡°There¡¯s a fuckin¡¯ pandemic. It¡¯s really stupid. Look, I even wore a mask, and I¡¯m basically immortal.¡± Sarah grabbed his shoulders and oriented him to face the door, struggling a bit to get James to actually move. ¡°Focus. Dungeon.¡± She said. ¡°Come on.¡± ¡°Alright, alright.¡± James stepped forward, putting his hand on the door¡¯s bar. ¡°Okay, everyone stay close. We still don¡¯t know if maps even work here, but we¡¯re going to retrace our steps from last time. For our new guests, remember, don¡¯t touch the glowing blue or orange gel goop stuff. We don¡¯t know what it does, and we don¡¯t want to find out.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I brought a hood!¡± Sarah chimed as they pushed the door open. ¡°...That¡¯s why? Not because it¡¯s raining?¡± Alex asked, trying to quell her nerves. ¡°I like the rain.¡± Sarah pouted as they walked through the breach. And then they were outside reality. _____ ¡°Hello again.¡± James tried to act casual as he stepped out onto the gravel arena. Behind him, a scraped, bruised, and unpleasantly wet team fanned out, taking up positions where they could move to assist James if he needed to, or if anything else decided to join the fight. Though today, the arena was less packed than last time, so maybe that wouldn¡¯t be required. They¡¯d fought through the Akashic Sewer to reach this point after a couple hours of travel. This time, their progress was slowed by near constant ambushes of the small rat things with the glowing blood, and from the hand-vine plants that had begun growing between the pipes, even outside the quiz rooms. They did take the time to check a few quiz rooms. Mostly they let Alex speak the answers, collecting as many green sparks as they could in one person. No sense being here and not walking out with at least one new magical book. Sarah¡¯s hood had actually worked, once, against some of the sludge this place disgorged from its dark pipes. One of those overhead pipes had cracked and split as they¡¯d passed underneath, and Sarah¡¯s reflexes were just fast enough to shove Alex out of the way before some of the substance had splattered her. The hood had melted. Rapidly. She¡¯d gotten it off in time, but had spent the next half mile cheerfully complaining that she was going to need to get hairstyle advice from Momo. Texture-Of-Barkdust was invaluable, providing classic camraconda overwatch and making any encounter with a single enemy almost too easy. And maybe the Sewer agreed, because toward the end, there was a door that slammed open like an overwound spring, and caught the camraconda with a jagged edge that seemed placed specifically to try to cut her throat. It hadn¡¯t connected properly, but it had hurt her, and Alex had given the other two humans a crash course in camraconda first aid to stop the ¡®blood¡¯ loss. And now, as James downed a half full thermos of arcane coffee and limbered up his legs, walking into a dry and dusty room out of the oily algae of the tunnels, he said hello to a creature out of a nightmare. ¡°Holy shit, that thing is creepy.¡± Alex whispered. ¡°Be nice.¡± Sarah admonished her. ¡°Even if you¡¯re right¡­¡± She added under her breath. ¡°Welkgome bahk.¡± The ratroach¡¯s guttural and wet voice greeted James. ¡°Beennnn waiting for kyuh.¡± Its words sounded like it was talking around a mouthful of meat scraps. The creature looked taller than the last time James had encountered it The ratroach had uneven, erratic patches of glistening damp beetle shell across its flesh, intermixed with patches of dirty white fur. From points in her fur, they could see small browncap mushrooms growing out of her skin, the fungus leaving strings of spores in the air as the creature swung its arms back and forth. Its fur was worn in places, and a thin line of glowing blue drool oozed from the corner of its muzzle to drip down to the floor. The last time James had been here, their group had done *substantial* damage to this creature. But here it was again, alive and¡­ well, maybe not ¡®well¡¯. But ratroaches were almost blatantly misconstructed; if you watched them for any length of time, you¡¯d see small limps, struggles to breathe properly, and open sores around the edges. The thought of one of them just¡­ healing properly? It didn¡¯t fit. ¡°Do you have some kind of health potion down here?¡± James asked casually. ¡°That¡¯s been a sticking point for me lately.¡± The ratroach stared at James suspiciously with a faceted eye set into the side of its skull. He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again, I suppose. You brought friends this time.¡± James pointed in a vaguely accusatory manner at the two other ratroaches flanking the white one. They weren¡¯t nearly as impressive as their leader, but they bristled as he motioned to them, three fingered hands fidgeting with the jagged blades and clubs they carried. ¡°Kyuh cheyted!¡± The ratroach accused him, in a wet barking scream. ¡°Nyaht agaiiiin!¡± It motioned with its doubled right arm, the makeshift spear in those two hands moving in wild lines as the creature gestured its two allies forward. Around them, outside the rusted fence, a dozen other ratroaches howled screams and hisses in exuberant joy, as the ones on the court started walking forward. ¡°Sarah, artillery, take the one on the right. Alex, cover her. Barkdust, clear lines, disruption.¡± James muttered to his people, as they fanned out and watched the fight creep toward them. ¡°You know, we don¡¯t have to do this!¡± James called over. ¡°We could just trade snacks, I could pretend to appreciate yours, and then we could¡­ yo!¡± He cut off as the white ratroach suddenly kicked off the ground with a spray of tiny rocks, and lunged toward him. ¡°Stahhhp thalking!¡± It screamed at him, putting the warped metal tip of it¡¯s ¡®spear¡¯ where James¡¯ throat had been a second ago. James leaned back up from the rolling motion of his dodge, and slapped the haft of the spear to the side as it came for him again with the back of his right hand, causing the stab to whiff off to his outside without contact. Coffee, adrenaline, and anger spiked in his blood. James backpedaled, keeping distance between them as the ratroach made a wide sweep with its spear. To his left, he saw Alex drop into a slide, kicking the other ratroach back before Sarah sent a wooden spike through its chest. On his right, Texture-Of-Barkdust had frozen the third one. Their enemy wasn¡¯t winning this fight, no question. ¡°Come on!¡± He yelled. ¡°Just let us past! We don¡¯t have to do this!¡± ¡°Whannnt tooo!¡± The thing howled at him. ¡°Whannt iiit! Whant, waant, *want*!¡± It lurched forward, naked tail whipping back and forth behind it as its tore forward, clawed feet kicking up more gravel into the air. It *flung* the spear at James. Not in any professional way, just hurling a bar of rotting wood and metal at him, the weapon spinning wildly through the air. And as he sidestepped that, the ratroach closed the gap, and lunged again. James punched her in what he assumed was the stomach. A brutally hard low angle uppercut, that took all her momentum and turned it into a weapon against her. James accepted the incoming strike from the ratroach¡¯s left claw, letting it rake across his armored chest and neck, eventually finding purchase with the claws on his filter mask and trying to rip into it, but not hitting flesh. While the creature was struggling with that, though, James reached up and clamped his left hand around her throat, squeezing hard enough to be a problem as he planted his feet, and forced her back. The two of them traded punches with their right side limbs, but it was clear who was winning this fight. So the ratroach, feeling its skin rip and shell crack, stopped struggling against James¡¯ grip, and slumped forward into him. James instantly stopped fighting back, and moved as if to catch the falling creature. Which is when it snapped its eyes back open, cocked its maw, and vomited a sticky, glowing blue slime, directly into his face. He jerked back, letting go and lashing out to kick the thing away, but all that did was add another involuntary spurt of fluid to its assault as the ratroach tumbled away. Sarah shouted something, but James was too busy being doubled over, scraping what he could away from his eyes with gloved fingers, and flinging the tattered and now smoking remnants of his mask onto the ground. This stuff *burned*. It made his skin itch and sting, but the actual *pain* felt like it went down to the bones beneath. Still, it was evaporating off his skin rapidly, great plumes of blue fog roiling away along with chunks of his skin and facial hair. If he¡¯d been capable of paying attention, he¡¯d have felt mildly justified in not having shaved for a few days, giving himself an ablative layer between the corrosive goo and his skin. Not that it was doing much. Then Sarah grabbed his shoulder, tilted his head back, and dumped an entire water bottle over his face. And rapidly, almost impossibly quickly, the burning receded and the remnants of the slime hissed and withered to nothing. It worked like a child¡¯s understanding of acid, James realized. Well, half-realized. Partially realized. A lot of him was still busy experiencing pain. ¡°You good?¡± Sarah¡¯s voice reached his ears. James coughed, and spat out saliva that had strings of blue in it. His throat caught, and he felt like he was about to heave, but he quelled his stomach and answered his friend instead. ¡°Yeah.¡± He gasped out. ¡°I¡¯m good. What¡¯s going on?¡± He looked around. The other two ratroaches were on the ground, one of them bleeding something orange and black, the other one just unmoving. His own opponent was struggling to push herself to her feet, one leg jutting out at an odd angle, with a black shard of bone sticking out of the broken gap in her chitin shell. The thing made pitiful little noises that were still sharply audible over the scratching of its claws on the gravel. Around them, the other ratroaches outside the fences had gone silent, simply watching with baleful stares. James spat again, trying to clear the *flavor* of the ichor out of his mouth, as he took a few steps forward to where Alex was standing over the downed ratroach. ¡°Coulda skipped this part.¡± James told her, angry. She just hissed back, lashing out with a claw that missed by whole feet, and dropping her jaw back down to the floor as she lost balance before trying to pull herself up again. ¡°Seriously, we didn¡¯t have to fight.¡± James sighed. The ratroach just gave another wet hiss, lurching forward, leaving a trail of its own sticky blood across the rocks. It drove itself to hurt him like it was on a mission from god. Which, well, judging by the way it had talked last time, it absolutely thought it was. James stepped up next to the thing, again feeling a spike of anger that *this* was the reward he was offered for trying to be nice, and running through the thought again that maybe ¡®trying to be nice¡¯ wasn¡¯t the right call to the literal monster that just vomited burning neon slime on him. The ratroach didn¡¯t do much to assuage these concerns, as it turned onto its side, mismatched eyes glaring up at him while it tried to catch his ankle in a weakly flailing claw. ¡°Haaateh kyuuuuh¡­¡± She whined at him around the blood in her mouth. It was so¡­ pathetic. James sighed again, clearing out the last of the bitter flavor on his tongue as he glanced up at Sarah briefly. The anger he was feeling pushed aside, as he experienced a single crystalized thought. God, this thing was familiar, in a very personal, and uncomfortable way. ¡°Yeah, I know you do.¡± He huffed out a breath as he spoke to it. ¡°But you know what?¡± It tensed for a second, eyes wide, fanged maw hanging half open as it waited for James to deliver a killing blow, or provide an opportunity for itself to do the same. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you.¡± James told it. And the ratroach froze, unsure what was happening. ¡°Really don¡¯t. Oh, I¡¯m mad as hell that you puked on me, don¡¯t get me wrong, but you¡­¡± He looked around at the other, silently observing creatures around them, ¡°...none of you deserve this. This is pointlessly cruel. But¡­ you know that, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Hate khyu. Hhhhate yuuuu.¡± She kept whispering, struggling to stand and failing. ¡°Well yeah. Why wouldn¡¯t you?¡± James said sadly. ¡°You¡¯re trapped in a sewer, trapped in a broken body, trapped down here with your murder-god and your insane siblings. And I¡¯m going to leave, and be somewhere nicer in about ten minutes. Because anywhere is nicer.¡± He met her eyes, and held them. ¡°I¡¯d hate me too. Hell, I *do* hate me, most of the time, and I¡¯m not even stuck in a mold pit. But you wanna know something? And I mean this, seriously. Really.¡± ¡°Whhhat?¡± The ratroach stopped its struggling, just lying there, looking up at James with the one eye on the side of its head, fur around it matted by fat drops of liquid running out of the eye¡¯s corner. ¡°You can come with me.¡± James said, and held out a hand covered in a crumbling glove that had been mostly eaten through by the ratroache¡¯s sludge. It stared at him, and then, a few seconds later, started to twitch, chest heaving, head thrashing back and forth. A noise echoed from it, a rough slapping crackling sound, and with a sad frown, James realized it was laughing at him. ¡°Maybe next time.¡± Alex tried to reassure him while they looted a couple books from the arcanely sealed lockers standing by the gate. ¡°Words will make it think.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°Cannot hide from thoughts.¡± ¡°And we¡¯ll be back to ask again, okay?¡± Sarah patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Or maybe next time, she pushes it too far, and that¡¯s the last chance.¡± James was still glaring at anything or everything as he used a knee to shove open the chipped blue security door, returning them to the bottom of the concrete slope underneath the high school in the real world. ¡°Maybe the dungeon just kills her. Maybe the other ratroaches do. Have you noticed that there¡¯s only ever one that talks? The two with her even didn¡¯t say anything, or react at all.¡± Sarah got a distressed look on her face, lips screwed up in concern. ¡°You think it only hands out so much smarts?¡± She asked. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± James shook his head. ¡°I just hate this place. And I¡¯m so tired. Can one of you go check in with Lua? I¡¯m gonna go sit in the car.¡± He stomped off, leaving a different kind of wet bootprints up the ramp next to the trail they¡¯d all left coming down. Behind him, Sarah let out a tense breath. ¡°Well, that could have gone better.¡± She said. ¡°Alex, Barky, do you two want to use the books? We¡¯re not duplicating them right now for a million reasons, and I think you both earned it.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Alex squeaked, excitement overriding any anxiety that she¡¯d been having, as well as distracting her from the sensation of something squishing in her shoe. ¡°I would.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust agreed. ¡°Can I?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s find out?¡± Sarah sounded split on exactly how enthusiastic she should be. ¡°It should be okay. But if you wanna wait, we can¡­¡± ¡°Home Ec!¡± Alex clapped her hands together, doing a little spin in the fading dust of the magical paperback that swirled around her. ¡°That was way less dramatic than Alanna made it sound.¡± Sarah was going to say something about how Alanna and James shared a propensity for that kind of dramatization, the use of almost mythical language to describe certain feelings of events. She was *going* to say that, but then a digital voice from below her waistline drew her attention. ¡°Social Studies.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said, as the book she had flipped open with her fangs disintegrated. ¡°Out of one hundred. Good. Normal.¡± ¡°We could have waited!¡± Sarah admonished the camraconda. ¡°Curious.¡± ¡°Reckless!¡± The camraconda hummed, and started slithering her way up the ramp. ¡°Speak with Lua. Alex, please carry me. It is raining.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Alex jumped a little, gave a nervous salute, and jogged after Texture-Of-Barkdust. Sarah watched the two of them for a second, before shaking her head and following. When had she ended up as the reasonable one in a group? That was *dangerous*! She was supposed to be the goofy one, not the one doing check-ins and being in charge of their artillery! Sarah was, honestly, under no illusions as to her ability to be in charge of things. She was easily distracted, and she *liked it that way*. She wasn¡¯t like James, where responsibility would push her to do better. She¡¯d just cleverly escape if she was asked to run the Order. But *for now*, she *guessed* it was okay that she talk to Lua. That was fine. Lua was nice! And after that she¡¯d make sure to get James normal coffee and ask him how he was doing, when he wasn¡¯t still bleeding and angry. Run away from work. Run toward her friends. Sarah¡¯s life motto, in short. She slapped a grin on her face, and followed up the ramp. There was still so much day left to get stuff done in. Chapter 139 ¡°You¡¯re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.¡± - A. A. Milne - ¡°There¡¯s a wikipedia dungeon!?¡± Momo burst into the kitchen like a purple and black tornado. ¡°Why didn¡¯t anyone tell me?!¡± She demanded. James glanced up from where he was taking the rind off a cantaloupe, helping Nate by making a fruit salad for meals for the next - he checked the stack of melons sitting next to him - month. ¡°What?¡± He asked, kind of lamely. ¡°A wikipedia dungeon!¡± Momo repeated, slightly out of breath. This was actually the third room she¡¯d burst into so far, though since this one contained the person she planned to complain to, her arduous journey was at an end. ¡°There¡¯s some kind of digital dungeon out there, and no one thought to tell me! *Or* poor Simames, who is just a massive nerd now that he¡¯s two people! That¡¯s just rude! Also, holy shit, your face!¡± James¡¯ face had the look of a splotchy sunburn. Angry red patches of skin that traced a comical outline around where he¡¯d been wearing a mask when he¡¯d had something vaguely resembling acid sprayed on him. It didn¡¯t hurt anymore, and most of the worst damage had already flaked off in foul smelling clumps of skin, but it *did* itch, and he was doing his best to ignore that. So, he ignored Momo¡¯s comment entirely, and moved on to the literally everything else she¡¯d just said. ¡°First off, Simon has expressly asked us not to call him *any* portmanteau of his and James¡¯ names.¡± James stated, tilting the knife he was holding toward Momo, melon seeds flicked off the tip. ¡°Second of all¡­ Simon already knows. Because we absolutely made it public knowledge, as soon as Anesh found Virgil¡¯s notes. We just can¡¯t find the thing, which is *also* open information. So why are you suddenly bringing this up?¡± ¡°I¡­ only just got around to Sarah¡¯s podcast thing.¡± Momo admitted, crossing her arms defensively. James cocked a knowing grin, suddenly aware of the presence of the skulljack on the back of his head. ¡°You grabbed that comprehension file the support group put together, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s really convenient!¡± Momo threw her arms down and stomped lightly. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for podcasts normally, I have magic to do!¡± ¡°I hear someone¡­ Marcel? Marco?... I don¡¯t remember the name, but they¡¯re putting one together for Welcome to Nightvale.¡± James made casual conversation as he cubed melon. ¡°Okay rad but that¡¯s not the point!¡± Momo said. ¡°Wait, actually, for something like Nightvale, how do you stop your own perceptions of the art from tainting the memory you spin off into a file to share? Like, if someone makes a connection that the Glow Cloud is a reference to the Hypno Toad from Futurama, then is anyone who runs their memory gonna get that same vibe?¡± She hopped up onto the counter, scrambling a little bit to sit on a corner where she could face James while he worked. ¡°This is cool shit.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes. To everything you said.¡± James nodded. ¡°It¡¯s very transhumanist, it¡¯s very neat, and people¡¯s reactions become part of the media they¡¯re reacting to, in a strange endless spiral of human thoughts, and I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s good or bad or just *is*. It¡¯s very exciting territory.¡± ¡°Hey, are you just trying to distract me from the wikidungeon?¡± Momo suddenly exclaimed. James shot her a long suffering look. ¡°Yes.¡± He flatly stated. ¡°Also you¡¯re the first person to actually come in here and show an appropriate amount of appreciation for the whole dot-thought file format, and I was hoping we could talk about that.¡± ¡°I just¡­ what else is happening around here that I don¡¯t know about?¡± Momo glumly demanded. ¡°I want to be the one making the secrets, not having to find them!¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I mean, you listen to the podcast now, so you should be fine? Momo, you literally attend operational briefings with me. The only thing I can even remotely think of that you might not be up to speed on is that we tested the blue you get for destroying a telepad¡± ¡°What¡¯s it do?!¡± She perked up instantly. ¡°Fixes a flat tire, or something conceptually adjacent. Or manipulates asphalt if you absorb it.¡± James answered. ¡°It¡¯s very cool. But it doesn¡¯t give many charges, and the telepads are just more useful anyway, so unless you want to build very middle of the road armor, it¡¯s not that important. Now, fun as your distraction is, is there anything else you need?¡± ¡°Why are you in here, anyway?¡± Momo ignored his pun. ¡°He¡¯s making fruit salad.¡± Nate rumbled as he kicked the door of the walk in fridge closed, catching only the last thing Momo had said. ¡°Nate! Did you know there¡¯s a wikipedia dungeon!?¡± Momo turned her enthusiasm laser on the chef. He didn¡¯t even glance up as he started unwrapping a package of salmon fillets. ¡°Yes. And get off the counter. And *sanitize the counter*.¡± ¡°No one appreciates this enough.¡± Momo fumed as she wrung excess liquid out of a sanitizer rag. James didn¡¯t bother to hide a laugh. ¡°I swear you could be doing something more important, boss.¡± Momo shot over at him, a little upset still. ¡°Making food is perfectly important.¡± James answered calmly as he moved on to the next cantaloupe. He was in a rhythm now. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of stuff that always needs to be done. People need to eat, that¡¯s not gonna go away. I know how to help with that. So I do.¡± ¡°But what about all the magic?¡± ¡°What about it?¡± James asked. ¡°There¡¯s so many people here poking and prodding at the arcane. Ya¡¯ll don¡¯t need me helping with that. Nah, my interacting with ¡®all the magic¡¯ is that I love exploring the dungeons¡­ well, one dungeon¡­ and I love finding the cool things, and then dropping them in your lap to put up with. I¡¯m just not good at the conceptual stuff. Hell, the first time I slotted a blue, I nearly killed myself.¡± ¡°Bullshit!¡± Momo accused him, pitching the rag in her hand across the room and into a bucket of sanitizer water. ¡°You are *stupidly* good at this stuff. The last time I tried talking to you about totem design, I spent twenty minutes trying to half explain to you, half puzzle out, how and why a certain line made of cotton worked differently if it was made of polyester. And you listened, then nodded, *once*, said ¡®okay, I get it¡¯, and *fixed the totem* without even *trying*.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Nate asked, glancing up with a worried frown. ¡°I vaguely remember this. Didn¡¯t my fixing the totem cause everyone in the building to suddenly understand the stock price of the bottom ten percent of businesses in the state, and then black out?¡± James didn¡¯t react to the outburst, just calmly slicing melon. Momo scowled at him. ¡°I fixed it better. That¡¯s not the point!¡± ¡°That is the point. Actually, that¡¯s half of the point. The other half is that we need to figure out how to make *anything* resembling a ward, or a safety spell, or¡­ fucking¡­ a¡­wizard Faraday cage?¡± James paused to sweep a pile of rind into the garbage can. ¡°That one got away from me. Oh, how¡¯s your bizarre scrying system going, anyway?¡± ¡°Medium. Don¡¯t change the subject.¡± Momo leaned against the wall next to the counter James was working on. ¡°Come on. You don¡¯t wanna do wizard things even a little bit?¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It doesn¡¯t¡­ speak to me. Not the way it clearly does for you, or Reed, or anyone else downstairs. I¡¯d rather do something I know is gonna be useful. Which means either thiiiiis,¡± he waved his knife around the kitchen, ¡°or paperwork. Or talking to people and keeping us all on track. The point is, the magic ball¡¯s in your court. Oh! Or ball! I could be playing basketball, to upgrade make myself, if I wanted. But it¡¯s raining and cold out.¡± ¡°Wait, you build the totems?¡± Nate asked. ¡°I thought we just found those.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a podcast you should listen to.¡± James smirked. Momo kicked the stainless steel side of the counter, boot making a thump as she got James¡¯ attention. ¡°So, what¡¯s the wiki dungeon actually do?¡± ¡°Okay, again,¡± James sighed, ¡°I cannot stress enough that we don¡¯t know if it¡¯s on wikipedia, and assumptions like that are dangerous. All we know, from Virgil¡¯s notes, is that it doesn¡¯t physically exist anywhere. And then we know that the reward is a program that generates resistances. Or at least, the program we have.¡± James shrugged. ¡°He didn¡¯t say anything about how he found it, or his thoughts on it. Only that his investigation was ongoing.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Momo frowned. ¡°Poor Virg. Why not just grow a program to find it?¡± ¡°Because¡­¡± James stopped. ¡°Good point. Go do that.¡± ¡°What, now?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯m busy.¡± ¡°You¡¯re literally the leader of over a hundred people, most of whom are very dangerous. It¡¯s unbecoming that you¡¯re making fruit salad.¡± Momo rolled her eyes as she kicked forward off the wall and headed for the door. ¡°I¡¯m gonna put kiwi¡¯s in it.¡± James stated, grinning as the younger girl flipped him off before the door swung shut behind her. ¡°That kid has problems.¡± Nate grumbled. ¡°That kid has a lot on her plate.¡± James replied. ¡°Also, do we even have kiwis? I wasn¡¯t kidding.¡± ¡°Right side of the walk in, second shelf.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± It was twenty minutes later that Nate spoke next. ¡°So.¡± He said, bluntly opening the conversation. ¡°I hear we have alchemists now.¡± James resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Nate had, for the last while or so, been weirdly evasive about actually offering strategic advice, or even admitting that he knew anything. It was probably the closest the big man was ever going to get to *moping*. Nothing about his personality was ever timid or recalcitrant, so this shift into someone who pretended they were easing into conversations was strange. James didn¡¯t like it. Nate probably liked it less. So, instead of actually answering, he instead said ¡°Oh my god, I know you¡¯re in cahoots with JP, you can just say that you¡¯ve got something to say. About the alchemists. Which we have now, yes.¡± ¡°Wanted to make sure you weren¡¯t going to do anything stupid.¡± Nate told him. Ah, that was much more direct. James appreciated it. ¡°Stupid how?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯m already planning to duplicate the potions JP got for us before testing them. And since it doesn¡¯t seem like orphan tears is one of the ingredients in their stuff, I don¡¯t see a need to kick their door in and burn their house down.¡± ¡°Stupid like trying to ally with them.¡± Nate told him. ¡°Or contacting them at all, honestly.¡± ¡°JP already did that?¡± James half asked. Nate shook his head as he dusted the fish in front of him with some kind of herb mixture that would have been right at home in an actual alchemical concoction. ¡°JP made contact with them. He didn¡¯t make contact *on behalf of the Order*. They don¡¯t need to know about us.¡± ¡°JP also said they¡¯d heard of us.¡± James pointed out. He set his knife down and turned to talk to Nate; he couldn¡¯t focus on slicing and chatting at the same time. ¡°He got us a discount!¡± ¡°They¡¯d heard of us, because they¡¯d gotten information about Status Quo going down, from one of their customers. It¡¯s looking like they were a constant worry for some people, and maybe with them gone, we¡¯ll be able to actually link up with other delver groups. And JP didn¡¯t get a discount, he could barely afford their rates. He just likes to brag.¡± ¡°What a smug asshole!¡± James laughed. ¡°But yeah, that all checks out. Okay, so, that sort of implies they have their own intelligence network. Had they heard of anyone else?¡± Nate barked a laugh. ¡°Hah! No, they have some kinda weird room that maps relative organizational power.¡± He kept rolling the fish in the herb and oil mix he was using. ¡°JP wanted to steal it. Because he¡¯s reckless. And I don¡¯t think we can steal a room, but what do I know? Anyway, all of this will be in the *actual* intel report later. I just wanted to check in with you.¡± ¡°Appreciate it.¡± James said. ¡°So, do you think it¡¯s worth putting aside some cash to get one each of their potions, and then copying them? We could even undercut their market if we wanted to make some quick cash.¡± ¡°First off, no.¡± Nate told him. ¡°But for a couple reasons, and you¡¯ll hate one of them.¡± ¡°Give me the one I¡¯ll hate first!¡± James cheerfully invoked. Nate never rolled his eyes, no matter how much James got the feeling from his tone that he really wanted to. ¡°You¡¯d probably stab at least one of the people you¡¯d be supposed to be selling to.¡± Nate said. James let out a noise of protest, but the chef rolled over him. ¡°They¡¯re millionaires. Billionaires. Trust fund kids and Hollywood stars. Property moguls and patent trolls. You would, and I¡¯m only mostly kidding here, probably try to kill one of them before we were a week into the plan. Getting away from hyperbole, you would *absolutely* mark them and try to commandeer their fortunes. This is not a sustainable business venture.¡± ¡°That¡¯s hardly fair!¡± James protested. ¡°I contain my flagrant disregard for the wealthy all the time when we¡­ um¡­¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Nate asked. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought. But the real reason, because we could just make JP do it if we decided to - and that kid thrives on having too many plates spinning - is that we don¡¯t know if the Alchemists Guild has any meaningful way to fight back.¡± ¡°Guild of Alchemists.¡± James corrected, hating himself for it. ¡°And that¡¯s a fair point. It¡¯s honestly probably safe to assume that whatever potions they¡¯re selling, they¡¯re keeping the *good* shit for themselves. Hell, given the name, they¡¯ve either got, or are trying to develop, some kind of immortality serum. And we know they¡¯ve got artifacts of some sort. So yeah, retaliation isn¡¯t a good idea. I don¡¯t wanna start a war.¡± ¡°Again.¡± ¡°Again, yes.¡± ¡°Right. Also, we need to know that you can copy the potions first.¡± Nate told him. ¡°Sometimes magic shit doesn¡¯t copy right. But after that, yes, get us the magic juice. Also, you have a finite number of copy uses every week, right? How many are we up to?¡± ¡°Seven. On a good week.¡± James said. ¡°Assuming the raiding parties on each tower don¡¯t run into trouble. And assuming that no one distracts Anesh, or whoever is running the ritual.¡± ¡°Have you considered that it might be time to post a permanent force in the Office?¡± Nate asked. ¡°You have enough veteran combatants. We could do it.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough people to do it, safely, and rotate through so that it¡¯s not a permanent lifestyle restriction.¡± James replied. ¡°I¡¯d want¡­ what do you think, ten people?¡± ¡°Could do it with six, probably, but ten is safer.¡± ¡°Ten people - because we have to assume something weird happens - and they¡¯d be there for a week. I¡¯d want people to have to only do that one week out of the month, so we¡¯d need forty people for that.¡± James shrugged. ¡°And we just don¡¯t have that kind of force. Or, I mean, we *do*, but we¡¯re all split up. Most of us are pulling shifts with Response, some of us are larking off across the country looking for either other delvers or my girlfriend, and a lot of people just aren¡¯t going to want to spend that much time in the dungeon. Especially the people who were trapped there.¡± ¡°So hire more people.¡± Nate said. ¡°Hell, ¡®hire¡¯ is the wrong word. Recruit. Go find the kids in shithole rural towns who are planning to sign on with the Army because it¡¯s the only choice they have, and give them a better offer.¡± James was skeptical. ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure those people are gonna have the mindset that we¡¯re looking for.¡± A snort of derision, mixed with the clattering of a pan as Nate slid the fish into the oven and spun the timer dial. ¡°So what? The Army¡¯s culture doesn¡¯t exist because that¡¯s who they were going into it. It exists because that¡¯s what they were made into. You take some poor kid whose only options in life are soldier, or drunk factory worker just like his dad, and you give him food, magic, and people who *give a shit* about him? James, that kid is gonna die for you and smile doing it. Asking them to be mildly socialist is nothing. Jack shit.¡± ¡°That¡­ that¡¯s scary.¡± James muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t want to, I dunno, brainwash people.¡± ¡°Being surprised that people want to live in the house you built isn¡¯t brainwashing, you dumbass.¡± Nate slapped the counter. ¡°Now, are you done with that fruit salad? I¡¯m gonna start serving dinner in thirty, and you¡¯re slacking off.¡± James bit his lip, holding in a laugh. ¡°You¡¯re a mean boss.¡± He told Nate. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m not in charge.¡± The chef told him, before ordering James. ¡°Get chopping. I¡¯m gonna go smoke.¡± _____ ¡°Welcome to Officium Mundi!¡± James called out to the assembled group in front of him. ¡°Some of you are new here! We have no tutorial! Good luck!¡± Some of the people in the delve team laughed. None of the laughs were from the newbies, all of whom were staring off toward the bizarre grey and beige horizon. ¡°Quick review of our objectives tonight! Deb and Karen, your teams are on the usual tower raid paths, but each of you take two of the new kids along. Nikhail, Reed already had some target for you lot, so you know what to do. Simon, camraconda trapping, and we¡¯ve got a telepad landing zone prepared in the Lair for you if you need it. Dave and Daniel, you¡¯re with me as soon as I check in with Anesh, we¡¯re gonna try to map out a faster bike route to the bathrooms, and figure out what sort of climbing gear we¡¯re looking at to explore there. Any questions?¡± ¡°...What the fuck is this place?¡± One of the new girls, Chevoy, asked quietly. ¡°No further questions!¡± James clapped his hands. ¡°Let¡¯s roll.¡± ¡°No, no!¡± The engineer protested. ¡°That¡¯s not obeying the laws of physics! It would take really, *really* specific conditions for the sky to look like that, and¡­ and¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, so, when I said ¡®no questions¡¯, I mostly meant no questions to me, right now, because I am busy, and also exhausted. The teams you¡¯ll be going with will answer your questions, and will be minimally cryptic while doing it. *Isn¡¯t that right?*¡± James directed a stern look toward Momo, who was doing a poor job of hiding a manic grin. ¡°Good.¡± He said, not waiting for a response, before turning and beginning to make his way up the ramps of the cubicle tower that was their makeshift home base here. Ten floors of slanted cubicle walls and dim lighting later, James made it up to where Anesh had already started mixing grounds for the duplication ritual. They¡¯d put up chicken wire around the windows of the top floor, to keep the sticky note masks out without ruining what light they got. The effect made the place feel a lot more post apocalyptic than it had previously. A little less surreal, a little more cobbled together. Anesh doing his thing with lines of coffee grounds didn¡¯t exactly help the image either way, honestly. It had been several weeks since they¡¯d sorted out proper workflow for the duplications. The things that they were going to use them on were planned out ahead of time, and the coffee already stockpiled. They¡¯d had all week to do that. Now, it was just a matter of stretching their resources with a liberal application of Starbucks grounds added to the magical stuff, and then firing the rituals. Later, when the tower teams came back, they¡¯d stash what they¡¯d found, and let Anesh know how many rituals would be possible next week, so the Order had time to plan. Tonight, they were gonna get five duplications off. They were slated for one load of human hearts, one box of telepads, two uses on the Order armory - which would net them six total loadouts - and the last one was for a box of ¡®miscellaneous junk¡¯. James was offended on behalf of JP, who never read the duplication reports, and wouldn¡¯t know that his hard acquired potions were tagged as ¡®junk¡¯. They were also copying a couple things for Research, including a pen that wrote on any surface, and a key to a bike lock that *might* be spawning bikes, but no one was sure. Those things he was okay rolling into the ¡®junk¡¯ label. Oh, and a couple pairs of the affiliation glasses, because they were useful for the spy bullshit that was part of his daily life now. ¡°Do you ever feel like we¡¯re spoiled?¡± James asked Anesh. His boyfriend, not having heard him come up, jumped just a little bit, a small puff of brown dust spraying out of the bag he was mixing coffee in. ¡°Faaaah¡­.hello!¡± Anesh caught his breath. ¡°Spoiled how?¡± ¡°We get every magic thing we find, in bulk.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s crazy useful, but I worry we¡¯re cheating.¡± ¡°People keep saying that.¡± Anesh frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone cares. Also it¡¯s not ¡®in bulk¡¯. We can¡¯t, for example, replace cars with telepads. We just don¡¯t have the ability to make enough for the whole world yet.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a shame, because that would actually be hugely helpful in fighting global warming.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, we have enough to run a secret police force.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Also, now that I¡¯ve said that, I just realized, we have a secret police force, and it¡¯s kinda creepy? Should we be¡­ doing something about that?¡± James bit his lip and hummed. ¡°You know, you¡¯re not the first person to say something we were doing was creepy today. One of the new people brought up that the whole plan of trying to create an arcology by duplicating spaces would lead to a ¡®dystopian hellscape of corridors¡¯.¡± ¡°Have they *been in here* yet?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Because I think they¡¯re thinking of the weird feeling large hotels give off, and not the actual corridor nightmare carnival that is Officium Mundi.¡± ¡°Anyway. The secret police thing actually is valid, yeah. Though we¡¯re not claiming responsibility for enforcement or imprisonment, and the majority of what we¡¯re doing is crisis resolution. Maybe we should get an independent agency to keep an eye on us?¡± James shrugged. ¡°I mean, we¡¯re near Portland. We¡¯ve probably got a group of highly motivated experts that we can ask to be a checksum on our actions. I¡¯ll let you know when they email me back.¡± He grinned at Anesh as his boyfriend gave him a *look*. ¡°The fact that you¡¯re starting to anticipate problems before people bring them up is worrying. Are you an adult now?¡± James put on a high pitched nasally voice. ¡°Fuck off, *dad*. I¡¯m gonna go vandalize the bathrooms with my *real* friends.¡± ¡°Please, please, do not call me dad.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Don¡¯t make this weird.¡± Laughing, James wrapped his partner in a hug, before pulling back and rifling through his pockets. ¡°Look, I¡¯m just here to add a couple small things to the junk box. Then I gotta get going. If these work, then it¡¯s gonna be huge, and we also might piss off a bunch of old rich guys.¡± ¡°Oh thank god.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Here I worried we were going to do something different this week.¡± ¡°Leaving now!¡± James said through his own laugh. ¡°Be careful, we¡¯ll radio in every half hour!¡± ¡°Have fun storming the castle!¡± Anesh called after him. Getting down the ramps was significantly easier than getting up. Assisted by gravity, James made good time, and didn¡¯t wear himself out too much as he looped through the strange structure. On the fifth or sixth floor, he paused for a second as a source of motion caught his eye, and waited motionless until the strider that had been poking its way along a desk edge made itself known. ¡°Hey.¡± James said to it, in a quiet, but firm voice. The strider instantly froze, pen legs locking in place as the two eyes on its front and top swiveled to look at James. ¡°You¡¯re fine.¡± He told it. ¡°Just don¡¯t be a jerk, and you can stick around here, okay?¡± It didn¡¯t move, except to take a tentative step backward. ¡°Seriously, it¡¯s fine. Head upstairs if you want to say hi to Anesh. He¡¯s nice.¡± James told it, before giving the strider a nod, and heading off on his way again. Sometimes, the little stapler nightmares were instantly hostile. Or worse, deliberately violent, stringing lines of spiked staples or setting small traps before trying to harm or kill passing delvers. But sometimes, they were passive. Or, in this case, afraid. Skittish, maybe even shy. And with those, James couldn¡¯t help but think about Rufus, the first friend he¡¯d ever made in this place, still actively trying to turn James¡¯ apartment into a cactus farm. There was a lot of value to showing a little compassion. He was still smiling a little to himself as he passed through the ground floor where they kept the armory, and outfitted himself with a light loadout for the night. No full body armor; they weren¡¯t going out to fight anything after all. Just some sports pads, a nylon backpack, a relatively hatchet that had replaced his original favorite weapon, and a wrist slingshot with a pouch of ball bearings. More than enough to handle most threats, even if ¡®handle¡¯ didn¡¯t specifically mean ¡®overwhelm with violence.¡¯ Oh, and a thermite ball. For when they needed to overwhelm something with violence. Just in case. ¡°Hope I didn¡¯t keep you waiting.¡± James said to Daniel and Dave as he walked out of the shadowed tower and into the harsh white light of the flurouscents. The two of them were standing halfway between the tower and the perimeter that several members of the Order were busy establishing against the wilderness of cubicles around them, neither of them seeming to be in any kind of hurry. Daniel stood gazing slightly upward, an orange cast to the light around his head, while Dave was looking the other direction, staring down at his phone. Looking up from the game of sudoku he was casually failing to understand, Dave nodded at James. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Ready to go?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah. Daniel, you and Path with us?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Daniel answered in a far away voice. ¡°Want us to take the lead to the goal?¡± ¡°Absolutely not!¡± James answered quickly, getting a surprised look from both his companions. ¡°Danny, you and Path are a great team, don¡¯t get me wrong. But every time you find a route somewhere, Pathfinder ¡®predicts¡¯ an amount of misadventure. And yes, maybe I¡¯m reading too far into this, but it *appears*, as an outside observer, that she¡¯s trading an abstract currency of ''problems'' in exchange for the map. And I would like to have a smooth, calm trip through the impossible tessellated cubicle maze, without being dunked in a pit of staples, or accidentally getting in a romantic relationship with a tumblefeed, or being comically on fire somehow. We¡¯ve got maps, we know what direction we¡¯re going, we¡¯re just looking for alternate paths, it should be fine.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Daniel said. But he said it after clearing his throat and not making eye contact. James pursed his lips in a frown. ¡°Oh?¡± He asked with a sigh. ¡°We already¡­ um¡­¡± ¡°How many misadventures.¡± James asked flatly, taking out a pair of fingerless gloves and pulling them on. ¡°Am I going to need a helmet?¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t you have a helmet?¡± Dave asked. ¡°I have a helmet. Head protection is important.¡± ¡°It gets caught on things when I get kicked around.¡± James told him. Daniel cleared his throat again. ¡°Just one misadventure.¡± He said, meekly. ¡°In thirty five minutes. If we leave now.¡± ¡°That¡¯s so¡­ argh!¡± James pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s so much worse! Now I¡¯m just gonna be waiting the whole time! Alright, whatever, I don¡¯t care! Let¡¯s go, before I decide to just sit in the tower all night and avoid everything fun. Onward! To mild but non-fatal injuries!¡± As Dave and Daniel followed after their leader, heading into the sprawling mass of cubicles that spread out from around the door, Dave leaned over and whispered, ¡°When he says it like that, it doesn¡¯t sound as fun.¡± ¡°Nothing sounds fun if you break it down like that.¡± Daniel replied. ¡°But he¡¯s not wrong. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve got a first aid kit in my bag¡± ¡°Good call.¡± Twenty minutes later, the three of them were moving single file through a wide corridor, Dave flitting between cubicle doors to make sure there were no large nests or trap clusters, while James occasionally made a mark on their map as they went. ¡°This is a good one.¡± He softly spoke, and got nods from the others. The idea, after all, was to find a bike route. The Order had started using bikes in here a lot more recently, and while the office had a tendency to shift around if damaged, and refresh itself if modified, there were still a few major hallways with long straight paths that let them cover sometimes *miles* in a few minutes, instead of in a few hours. ¡°How far are we from the bathroom spire?¡± Dave asked. ¡°About a mile left.¡± Daniel answered. ¡°I see this hallway ends up ahead, though. And we¡¯re gonna have to turn right to get back on track. Still, this would save a lot of time.¡± ¡°Why did you want to explore the bathrooms again, anyway?¡± Dave asked James. ¡°They seem¡­ awful.¡± ¡°Because every time we think we¡¯ve seen the last of something in this place, it surprises us.¡± James answered, peaking into the cubicle on the right, before taking a few careful steps to the next door and checking that one too. ¡°And maybe we¡¯ve found all the orbs, but it seems like the more defended places have weird, and useful, stuff. Like the copy projector, or the camraconda nest.¡± ¡°That last one¡­¡± Dave¡¯s argument was cut off by a sudden banshee wail, a voice that rose in pitch rapidly, howling about overtime hours. The noise burst out of the cubicle directly in front of James, a riot of yellows and purples trailing in flapping paper trails as a roughly face-shaped collection of sticky notes flung itself forward through the air. Despite having no visible means of propulsion, the mask whipped itself around in a rapid right angle turn, and darted forward toward Daniel¡¯s face, spurs of bone extended from its eyes and mouth. The young man stumbled back, and dodged the snapping strike only by virtue of tripping over his own feet and tumbling down onto his ass. The mask wheeled around in midair, making a beeline for Dave standing to the side of the hall. Dave, panicking, flung the water bottle he was drinking from at it, wildly off target with his sudden attempt. He was trying to get his hands up to guard his face when James seized three of the trailing paper tendrils coming off it in a gloved hand, whipped the paper and bone creature onto the floor, and planted his hatchet through it with a motion that was half swing, half crouch. He calmly cracked the yellow the mask dropped, before rising back to his feet. [+2 Skill Ranks : Repair - Laptop] ¡°Handy.¡± He commented. ¡°You two alright?¡± ¡°I missed, but I¡¯m okay.¡± Dave said, glossing over the moment of hesitation he¡¯d had. ¡°Daniel?¡± ¡°I fell on my first aid kit.¡± The lanky young man groaned from the floor, rolling over off his backpack. ¡°I think I sprayed burn cream all over the inside of my bag. Oh, and someone dumped water on me?¡± There was a noise of thin plastic crinkling as he rolled onto the water bottle that Dave had hit him with. ¡°I am damp. And my head hurts.¡± ¡°Alright!¡± James declared. ¡°There¡¯s one misadventure down!¡± He offered Daniel a hand and got him back up. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving! I feel a lot better now.¡± Neither Daniel nor Dave bothered to correct him on the timing of the event. Thirteen minutes later, at an intersection in the hall that had one too many right angles, someone asked what was actually inside the vending machines in this place. Two minutes after that, while trying to pick the lock on a vending machine, James was struck in the leg by a projectile can of Maximum Grape, bowling him over and putting his head at exactly the right spot for the vending machine to spray him down with some kind of cola, dispensed like it was a fire hose and not a slot at the base of a vending machine. ¡°I!¡± James declared as he stood up, wiping carbonated sugar out of his eyes, ¡°Am tired! Of being dunked in strange liquids!¡± ¡°Why are we going to the bathrooms, then?¡± Dave asked, *somehow* keeping a straight face. Behind him, Daniel wasn¡¯t doing such a good job, and was snorting giggles when he thought James wasn¡¯t looking. ¡°This was entirely my fault, wasn¡¯t it? *This* is the misadventure! You lied to me!¡± James accused. ¡°What?¡± Daniel tried to look innocent. ¡°No, I never said anything. Also, we should go. We¡¯re almost there, and we can figure out if we need pittons.¡± He shouldered his backpack, and started moving again, Dave following after him and moving around the still dripping James. James glared after then, then glared at the vending machine. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m not mad at you.¡± He told it, calming down a little. ¡°Sorry for trying to crack you open.¡± There was a wet thunk from its dispenser slot, and James looked down to see, in a puddle of soda, a tall, thin silver can. He picked it up gingerly, letting the liquid drip off it. ¡®No Worries¡¯ read the label. ¡°Thanks.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m setting Daniel on fire.¡± He added, mostly to himself, as he set off after the rest of his group. It was only when he cracked the drink open and took a swallow of it that he got his final surprise. A light pressure in his mouth, followed by a *pop*, and a mental notification that rang through his whole self. [Shell Upgraded : Heart +18 Average BPM] ¡°I¡¯m gonna be so much nicer to the vending machine in the Lair.¡± James muttered. ¡°Wait, have these things been able to dispense purples this whole time?! Dave! Wait up!¡± The sticky fluid now hardening on his skin was forgotten as he jogged to rejoin the others. They had work to do, after all. No time for screwing around. Well, *more* screwing around. _____ ¡°Alright, everyone got your goggles? We¡¯re only doing this one more time.¡± Reed called out to the assembled Research division. There were way more people than he ever expected to be in charge of. Not that he was actually in charge of anything; it was more like he was a beuracratic filter through which paperwork was filed and projects were funded. Like a very powerful version of an incarnated grant application. His staff was mixed human and camraconda, and their shared culture was one of flagrantly irresponsible curiosity. Which fit well with the Order, honestly, so they tried to keep the actual irresponsible nonsense to a comical minimum. These dozen people, plus a few of the new squires that had come to watch the test, stood at the opposite end of the Lair¡¯s new basement, setting up cameras, spectroscopes, and a dozen other tools. On the far side of the basement, which had been pretty much entirely cleared out of the light clutter that had spawned in it, was a totem. It was one of two that they possessed. Nikhail had led the team to collect it a couple nights ago, a few of Research¡¯s human members and one of the new engineers braving the hallways of Officium Mundi to locate, and wholly extract a totem¡¯s structure. They¡¯d brought the orange they¡¯d found, too. And, even better, none of them had gotten seriously hurt in the Penrose loop that the totem had tried to trap them in. They¡¯d even brought back some small green orbs from the 2.0s that had jumped them. Nikhail had tried to see if he could upgrade his car. It hadn¡¯t worked exactly, and now the bushes in the parking lot grew faster. The real prize was the totem, though. And the orange to power it. This was not the first test. They¡¯d tested it already, from a safe distance. It worked. It took a snapshot of a designated relative position, and it extrapolated it out into a loop of right angles. Once you entered through the targeted position, you were stuck taking turns through the copied segments. This one wasn¡¯t the most complicated iteration of this trap that Reed was aware of because you could break out of it by moving outward, but it was still powerful. Because the copied space was *real*. Oh, sure, it was weird to access it, and there were some absurd limits to how it would have to be set up, but it made a *mass copy*. The only real downside was that it only copied a ¡®structure¡¯ - an intuitive heuristic that everyone kinda knew the definition of, but it was hard to agree on hard limits to. But that was fine, they hadn¡¯t really started experimenting yet. They¡¯d bug test that limit out. This was the first experiment. They¡¯d unfolded the totem space inside the basement nineteen times now, opening and closing the zone to repeatedly test the limits and potential dangers. They had a fairly decent grasp on it now, as well as a harvest of concrete chunks and lightbulbs from inside the copied spaces before they were folded back up. Conservation of matter could get fucked, as far as Reed was concerned. Now, it was time to see if they could modify it. They¡¯d made a full blueprint of both the totems in their possession. They¡¯d gotten Anesh and Momo, with their unique takes on magic and the math thereof, to help generate models for the meanings of the lines and angles. That, along with examinations of a handful of other totems that hadn¡¯t been brought out of the dungeon, meant that Research had a fairly decent educated guess on what they were doing. They were still standing across the massive room, behind cover, wearing goggles, and inserting the orb via drone. ¡°Okay. Test one.¡± Reed said, as Taste-Of-Air puppeted the drone into place, orb held at just the right height to slide into the duel pyramid shape of the waiting empty totem. ¡°We have added one two inch groove to the bottom left of panel six. This should either render the totem nonfunctional, or expand the copied area by six feet. Everyone ready?¡± ¡°Hit it, doc!¡± Nikhail yelled from behind a low wall of lead and steel. ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor, nor the one hitting it.¡± Reed muttered. He¡¯d thought he was being quiet, but Nik apparently heard him. ¡°I was talking about Taste-Of-Air!¡± Was the shouted response. ¡°Our companions aren¡¯t taking this seriously.¡± He sighed to the camraconda. ¡°Would you please begin the process? All monitoring devices are active.¡± Taste-Of-Air nodded in a sharp motion, most of his focus on controlling the quadcopter drone through the skulljack link. Ever so gently, he nudged the remote unit forward, until the orange orb it carried started to slide into place, held by an outside force to hover between the two points of the opposed pyramids. The green striped camraconda let the drone¡¯s grippers release, and watched through its own eye and multiple networked cameras as the totem activated. There was the feeling of falling. There was the memory of flying. And then, something cracked. It appeared in an instant, rioting out from where the totem should have taken a copy of local space. A jutting spike of nonspace, nowhere, cutting through the ceiling, blending the parking lot and a few trees overhead into a frozen whirlwind of matter and vectors. The air howled as it was pulled in six directions at once, whipping into gale force wind down thin unseen tunnels in the open place overhead. Chunks of matter, mostly asphalt and dirt, spawned, sat stationary, then fired at high velocity to ricochet off the basement concrete floor. The drone was *gone*, shredded into toothpicks made of plastic and engine components. The nearby support pillar joined it shortly thereafter, a rain of concrete needles spraying the ceiling at four hundred miles an hour. The event lasted for precisely twenty six seconds, before Reed crushed the orange orb in the center of the totem. [Certification Added : Certified Flight Instructor] Space righted itself, the ceiling crumbled inward before stabilizing around the rough hole that led through the ground and out to the open night air. Like a hissing scream of relief, the problematic spire of warped reality undid its grip, and everything was suddenly normal again. ¡°Fuck, Reed!¡± Someone yelled from what felt like miles away. ¡°Medic!¡± Reed took a deep breath. The crisis was resolved, though his brain was moving sluggishly. Pulling his hand back from the totem, he itched at the mild pain in his side, which turned it into a very sharp and concerning pain in a hurry. Looking down, he saw his hand covered in blood, looking down farther, pulling his shirt aside, he saw a spiral chunk carved out of the flesh of his left arm and torso. The blood was only just starting to spread from where parts of him had been pulled back with the spatial anomaly as it repaired itself. ¡°Oh.¡± He said. ¡°Ow?¡± Reed looked back at the path he¡¯d sprinted to get to the totem, and noticed that there was a worrying slice of his own shin somewhere between himself and the couple members of Research who were racing to reach him with the trauma kit. ¡°Hey, I think we did it wrong.¡± He thought he said to the blurry face and wide worried eyes that swam in his vision. ¡°Did you see the distortion near the reference point? We¡­ uh¡­ shoulda put the mark on¡­ the upper pyramid. Allllso. We should...do the next one¡­ outside.¡± Reed muttered. Someone caught him as he fell. Chapter 140 ¡°You know, I¡¯m sick of following my dreams, man. I¡¯m just gonna ask where they¡¯re going, and hook up with ¡®em later.¡± -Mitch Hedberg- The sixth floor of the hospital was more of a maze than James would have expected. Though he¡¯d be willing to bet that, like every building, if you spent every day walking around here for work or just to visit someone, it would start to feel more comfortable and less arcane in its layout. He didn¡¯t do that though, so he was at risk of getting lost just going to the bathrooms. Though he¡¯d also teleported in here, so he couldn¡¯t complain that much if it took him an extra five minutes to find the office of the doctor he was meeting with. It was a pleasant part of the hospital. Despite the dark clouds and sloppy rain outside, this part of the building was warmly lit and carpeted. Used for administration offices and mental health services, it didn¡¯t need cold tile floors for the wheeled beds to traverse, or glaringly bright lights so that practitioners could see their patients as cleanly as possible. It tried to put people at ease, which was helpful, because James was not here for a pleasant reason. ¡°Your friend will live.¡± Dr. Nikita was telling James. By association and the magic of smartphones, he was also telling the dozen people waiting back at the Lair, who never would have been allowed to crowd into the hospital what with the whole pandemic thing going on. ¡°None of his injuries were critical, or life threatening beyond the bleeding. Some internal damage, nothing that will not heal with time. Though one kidney was damaged, and may need to be removed. I do not suppose you have the means to procure us a supply of perfect human kidneys?¡± The doctor¡¯s question came with a raised eyebrow, which James did not see. He was too busy closing his eyes and breathing out a steady stream of stress. The question, coming from most people, would be a joke. But here was one of the Order¡¯s more valuable contacts with the normal world; someone integrated with the bureaucracy of medical care, in a position to make changes, and also aware of the capabilities of the organization that James represented. ¡°We¡­ probably could?¡± James thought about it as he let the anxiety of Reed¡¯s injuries leave his chest. ¡°We don¡¯t have access to the stasis effect we used to preserve the heart anymore, but we may be able to find a replacement. I think the biggest obstacle would be supply, and relative impact; we can only make so much. Though, kidneys also keep longer, don¡¯t they? Like, compared to hearts?¡± ¡°Quite a bit so, yes. Though not forever, sadly.¡± The doctor shook his head. ¡°We can maybe arrange something. I¡¯ll get back to you. Also¡­¡± James offered a weak smile, ¡°...thank you. For taking care of him. We owe you.¡± ¡°It would have happened, even if you were not who you are.¡± Nikita replied. ¡°Child, do not think I am a doctor for my own amusement. Your friend would be taken care of regardless. You owe nothing.¡± He paused. ¡°Well, the payments office will disagree. But you owe *me* nothing.¡± James almost laughed. But for some reason, the last year or ten of his life had sucked all the fun out of the cruelties of the healthcare industry. ¡°Well, regardless.¡± James said. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Perhaps I am owing you some more thanks, first.¡± The director of surgery idly mused. ¡°I am hearing from my people that emergency patients are arriving as if they were injured only moments before. And hospital security has been working overtime to delete footage of strange snake creatures. Strange times!¡± ¡°Oh, right.¡± James tapped his forehead as he remembered. ¡°One of those strange snake creatures wanted me to ask you about a job. They can freeze people in place; might be useful during surgery.¡± ¡°...You know, it is a crime to surprise an old man so much that you give him a heart attack.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got spares.¡± James shot back. ¡°Insolence!¡± The doctor laughed, a warm sound in the cold hallway. ¡°Well. You aren¡¯t wrong. Now, duty calls. Was there anything else you wished to tell me before I step back into the waking world?¡± ¡°We¡¯re expanding the crisis response team.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m going to hire away all the EMTs and undercut the company that runs the ambulances in this county as a test run. Can you have whoever¡¯s in charge of that for this hospital call me, and we can set up more permanent arrival platforms for our teleporters?¡± ¡°...Honestly?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The older man closed his eyes, and for a second, James couldn¡¯t tell if he looked twenty years younger, or a hundred years more tired. Then he opened them. ¡°I will pass on your message. Thank you.¡± He said, a little stiffly. ¡°I must go now. Good luck to you.¡± ¡°You too, sir.¡± James nodded respectfully. _____ ¡°Alright.¡± James was once again pacing back and forth in the briefing space the Order maintained in the back warehouse of their Lair. This time, though, his audience wasn¡¯t twenty new hires, but the collective roster of the Research division. ¡°Let¡¯s get one thing out of the way early. No one is getting punished for this, okay? We¡¯re taking a page out of the railroad handbook for this.¡± ¡°I have a question.¡± One of the younger members of the audience¡¯s hand shot up. One of the high schoolers, an intern who¡¯d been present for the test, but not responsible for any part of it. James answered without waiting for him to ask. ¡°Railroads have a vested interest in fixing problems. So if something goes wrong, they have a policy of not punishing anyone, so that whoever makes a mistake is encouraged to come forward and explain what happened. So the mistake doesn¡¯t happen again.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­ I didn¡¯t make a mistake. Can I go?¡± The student asked. ¡°No.¡± James answered. ¡°Because I still need to know what happened, and I want everyone who was there to be here for this. So. *What happened*?¡± He asked, looking at the faces of the people before him. Silence greeted him. Everyone, from the interns who were barely more than kids, to the two older gentlemen who¡¯d only recently joined Research as their upended lives stabilized after being rescued from the Office, to the handful of camracondas, to Momo and her new apprentice, to the hazy connecting form of the infomorph Planner, all of them met his question with shame faced expressions and quiet. James sighed. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s try this. Nikhail, you¡¯re the closest thing to a second in command, what-¡° ¡°I am?¡± Nikhail¡¯s voice slipped into a higher pitch briefly before he cleared his throat. ¡°Uh¡­ I am? Okay. I guess?¡± No one contradicted James. ¡°...so, give me a timeline of what happened last night.¡± He stared at the lanky kid. ¡°And remember, that no matter what, there is *no punishment for this*. No one is dead, nothing cannot be fixed. Just tell me what happened, as best you remember.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Nikhail started, and then took some time to think. ¡°Well, a lot of stuff happened, I guess. But what you¡¯re really asking about is the totem tests. We were using the orange totems that got brought back, trying to figure out their limits. Just turning them on and turning them off. And that was, I guess, ten hours of work?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a long time. What were you doing?¡± James prompted. ¡°Exploding the limits, taking readings, making notes.¡± Nikhail answered. ¡°A lot of the early tests really were just turning them on and off, to make sure they worked. We were using drones, though, and¡­ oh, yeah, I guess we took an hour to actually get the drones working¡­ and then we went really slowly once we started going into the spaces in person. Most of the time was spent taking samples or going over footage of the totems activating.¡± ¡°Samples. What of?¡± ¡°The material of the structure. Concrete, mostly. We also took a long break, before we started planning the first experiment.¡± James held up a hand. ¡°Are you using experiment and test separately?¡± ¡°Yes. The tests were just activation, with no modification. The first experiment was our attempt to modify a totem.¡± ¡°Can you, or anyone here, explain your methodology?¡± James asked, keeping a neutral voice. He wasn¡¯t pacing anymore, though he was wishing he¡¯d turned the heat up back here. The warehouse was cold, today. A thought occurred that he should check the walls for holes, just in case, given what had happened. It was Momo who answered. ¡°We compared the design of the totems we had access to, and also compared them to the red totems that we know worked. I did some educated guessing, and Anesh explained it with math. Basically, we worked out a formula that would only work if the totem would work. So to test it, we made a small modification to the totem, and turned it on.¡± ¡°And that led to¡­¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t work.¡± Momo undersold the event. ¡°It blew a hole in reality.¡± Nikhail corrected. ¡°And the ceiling.¡± ¡°It was an error.¡± Taste-Of-Air added. ¡°Reed spoke. The change was to the incorrect zone.¡± ¡°What was supposed to happen was that it would, we *think*, have grabbed a snapshot of a slightly larger zone, and copied that.¡± Nikhail said. ¡°But it didn¡¯t do that. So either Reed was right, and we just put the change in the wrong place, or our math was wrong, which seems a lot more likely. But then, Anesh did most of the math, and I¡¯m not gonna pretend to understand it.¡± ¡°I feel that way a lot.¡± James said. ¡°Momo, you disdain the math side of things. Your thoughts?¡± ¡°The math is just how Anesh expresses his own instincts.¡± Momo told him. ¡°He¡¯s usually right, sometimes. I don¡¯t think he was wrong here.¡± ¡°So, what happened?¡± James asked again. It was one of the older men who spoke up next. Davis, James was pretty sure his name was. He¡¯d been a call center manager before all this, and while he wanted to be useful, his main calling in Research was a lifetime of tech support experience, and being very meticulous, over being innovative and intuitive. ¡°I think¡­ our method was wrong.¡± He had his hand up, as a few heads turned to look at him. ¡°Ah, may I?¡± ¡°Davis, right? Go ahead, please.¡± James spread his arms. ¡°The method? How do you mean?¡± ¡°Well, I took the time to double check the formula Mr. Patel made, against the totem itself. From the footage, not what¡¯s left of it. It *should* have worked. Mr. Reed¡¯s intuition at the end, I do not think, is the only solution.¡± He cleared his throat, withering a little bit as Momo gave him a raised eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s how we made the change that mattered, not the end state.¡± He said. ¡°The formula is wrong, because the formula is only looking at the end product. There is more to a totem.¡± ¡°You mean¡­ how it was done matters?¡± James asked. ¡°It¡¯s never mattered for the reds.¡± Momo rebutted. ¡°Though¡­¡± She paused, before shrugging. ¡°I mean, I guess I¡¯ve never really tested that. But I would have noticed!¡± ¡°Yes, yes.¡± Davis agreed, nodding quickly. ¡°You build them all at once, though. They¡¯re¡­ I suppose the best way to say it is ¡®they are yours¡¯. This one, though, was already made. And we tampered with it.¡± ¡°So, you think that if we rebuilt the totem, from scratch, exactly the same, that it would work as expected?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Davis said bluntly. ¡°But we should try. Methodically, and systematically. Because if I am right, it will save us years of trial and error. And if I am wrong, then-¡° ¡°Then another building explodes!¡± Momo yelled. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry.¡± James interrupted her, holding out a hand. ¡°You¡¯re never doing one of these tests inside again. Also, chill. He¡¯s got a good point.¡± Momo crossed her arms and grumbled something about controlled demolitions, but she did obviously let some of her anger go. She wasn¡¯t angry at Davis, after all, not really, and everyone knew it. ¡°Alright, does anyone else think they have an idea as to what the problem was? Any alternate viewpoints?¡± ¡°Um¡­ am I allowed to¡­¡± The intern raised their hand again. ¡°Literally why you are here, yes.¡± James pointed at them. ¡°Go ahead.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ well, I don¡¯t know about most of the magic stuff,¡± the kid started, looking really sheepish, ¡°but what if it was the drone?¡± James blinked, and glanced at Nikhail, who made a similar confused face. ¡°The drone?¡± He asked. ¡°Well, yeah.¡± The student looked like they were falling apart under the scrutiny of actually being asked the question. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ there was a weird feeling near the totem, for the first few tests, at first. But when we knew it was safe, we turned it on without the drone, and those went away. What if it thought the drone was part of the totem?¡± Nikhail tapped the desk he was sitting at, before looking around at the rest of research. ¡°Did anyone else feel anything weird for the first few tests?¡± He asked. Almost everyone raised their hand or said something. ¡°Like your stomach dropping, right? But that went away after a few of them. I thought¡­ shit, I thought we just got used to it.¡± ¡°If it was the drone¡­¡± Momo¡¯s face went white. ¡°We just stapled a whole extra chunk of white noise to the totem¡¯s process. No wonder it blew up! Holy shit, it¡¯s a miracle it didn¡¯t blow up beforehand!¡± ¡°The dungeon made totems must be impossibly stable, to survive that.¡± Nikhail started musing. ¡°There must be some kind of adaptation ¡®code¡¯ in their structure. We need¡­¡± ¡°We need to put the orbs in by hand. Or maybe by catapult.¡± ¡°Yes. Yes! Next time, we¡­¡± James cut him off, stepping into the discussion with a very sharp, singular question. ¡°Yes, next time.¡± He said. ¡°Which makes me wonder. Why did you do this experiment at all, *this* time?¡± His words quieted the room. A minute later, Nikhail started to answer, saying, ¡°Because we needed to¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± James stopped him. He kept a kind tone to his words and a peaceful look in his eyes, but nothing that allowed for argument here. ¡°I mean, if this is something that one brainstorming session has caught not one, but *two* potentially lethal errors in, then why didn¡¯t those get caught? Why, I am asking, are you all in *such a rush*?¡± The assembled group looked at each other, at the ceiling, at the floor, anywhere but at James. If it had been quiet before, now, everyone was hesitant to even breathe. It was Momo who broke the silence, her chair scraping on the concrete floor as she pushed it back and stood up. She wasn¡¯t an especially imposing figure, but every eye was on her as she leaned forward, palms planted on the table, to address James. ¡°Because you need us to.¡± She said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You need us to rush. You need more leverage, more options, and more progress, if your bonkers plan to improve the world is ever going to work. You can¡¯t afford to have us playing it safe!¡± ¡°No.¡± James rebutted. ¡°No, you¡¯re absolutely wrong.¡± He told her, voice part sad, and part just tired. ¡°Momo¡­ all of you¡­ if you take away *one* thing from this whole mess, I want it to be this. That sappy paragraph in the operations manual, about how you aren¡¯t expendable? It applies to you too.¡± He sighed. ¡°Yes! There¡¯s some big, stupid, splashy ideas floating around! Yes, being able to speed-grow a city would be useful! But for fucks sake, if you kill yourselves getting there, it will *never* have been worth it!¡± ¡°Sometimes, important things take sacrifices.¡± Momo glared at him. ¡°Let me know when you find one of those things!¡± James snapped back, finger joints popping as he slammed a fist into the table he was arguing with Momo over. ¡°I thought¡­ we did!¡± She trailed off. ¡°I thought that¡¯s what we were.¡± James noticed a few too many agreeing nods at that. He suppressed the urge to sigh again. Or maybe to start throwing things. ¡°Look.¡± He said softly, and every ear in the room turned to him. ¡°The problems we hope to kill are problems that have been designed to be stable. We aren¡¯t in a hurry. Some day, I may call on you to pull off something that will require an irresponsible amount of caffeine and risk. But until then¡­ it¡¯s okay to slow down. To take it step by step. Okay? No more accidentally making gods, no more giving yourself totem-based brain damage, no more *blowing up my car*. There¡¯s a time for that, but it¡¯s not now.¡± ¡°Oh shit, your¡­?¡± Nikhail coughed out an interruption to his own words. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± James said, still in the same steady voice. ¡°But I want you all to understand me, okay? If being safe takes an extra month, an extra year, it doesn¡¯t matter. Got it?¡± Muttered assent and nods came back to him. ¡°Good.¡± James said, relief running in his blood. ¡°Now. Like I said at the start. No punishments for this. But I *am* going to encourage everyone here to sign up for a training rotation with the Response division.¡± He noticed a few winces. ¡°It¡¯ll be good experience for you.¡± The words he didn¡¯t say were, ¡®and maybe this will keep you out of trouble for a little bit.¡¯ He didn¡¯t need to say that part out loud. _____ ¡°We¡¯re in trouble.¡± Karen caught James just as the elevator doors opened into their skyscraper office floor. He briefly considered hitting the ¡®close doors¡¯ button, going home, and going to bed. His eyes flicked to the button on the elevator¡¯s panel, before James remembered that he didn¡¯t have a ride home until later. He revised his plan to simply using the telepad tucked in his coat pocket. Then he sighed as he realized he¡¯d need to take the time to write the address down, and in that time, Karen would surely interrupt him. ¡°What kind of trouble? One to ten, ten being the death of all life on Earth.¡± James asked, stepping off the elevator and nodding politely to their guard fern. ¡°Death of¡­ *two*!¡± Karen stared at him incredulously. ¡°We¡¯re running out of money, that¡¯s all!¡± ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s been a long day.¡± James tried to give her an apologetic smile. ¡°It¡¯s 11 AM.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°...Well. Our issue may not be fully apocalyptic, but it *is* real.¡± Karen shook her head, mostly ignoring James¡¯ comment. ¡°Currently, our income sources are sporadic and unreliable, and our expenses are growing massively as we bring on more people.¡± ¡°Okay. So we need to expand our income. How¡¯d the thing with the silver work out?¡± James asked. ¡°I have a call scheduled for later today to finalize the exchange, which, if Officium Mundi operations remain ongoing, should net us twenty to thirty thousand dollars a week. With the option to scale up as we more fully exploit the resources available to us.¡± James froze midstep, halfway to the vending machine that they¡¯d relocated to this part of the office. Looking down at the crumpled one dollar bill he was going to use to buy a random drink, he glanced back at Karen, slipped his money back into his wallet, and said, ¡°Can I borrow a dollar?¡± ¡°Next week.¡± She said. ¡°And while I understand *why* you react so strongly to that, it¡¯s important that you know that isn¡¯t enough to keep us solvent the way the Order spends money.¡± ¡°Fuck, really?¡± James puffed out a breath, eyes wide. ¡°What are we spending so much on? I *know* what our equipment budget is! It¡¯s not that bad!¡± ¡°Again, it¡¯s mostly people. You¡¯re paying full time salaries to fifty seven individuals, sixty nine if you count people like yourself and Anesh, which you should.¡± ¡°Nice.¡± She *very deliberately* ignored that comment. ¡°And you pay generously. Not extravagantly, mind you, but well above what most people could expect anywhere else. Our payroll costs are currently at over two hundred thousand a month. And on top of that, we pay rent to use this¡­¡± Karen looked around. ¡°Well, not *this* place. But you are aware of what I mean.¡± ¡°The Lair, yeah. We do also actually pay rent on this office, it¡¯s just way less because we¡¯ve got a good deal due to pandemic issues and leasing contracts. Two hundred grand? Seriously?¡± James thought for a second, then the math caught up with him. It was surprisingly easy to hold all the numbers in his head, and it clicked suddenly which one was off. ¡°Wait, what about the camracondas?¡± ¡°They don¡¯t collect pay directly, but there is a trust set up in their name that money is poured into.¡± Karen said, and James eased a sigh of relief. ¡°I don¡¯t want to question your methods, because clearly they are working, and also because I¡¯m one of those people you pay so well, but you might want to cut back on payroll until we can balance the books.¡± ¡°First off, no. Second off, where¡¯s the money been coming from for the last six months then?¡± James furrowed his brow in confusion. ¡°We¡¯ve opened two briefcases, and Anesh has a real job now, but that¡¯s not¡­ close to enough. Is it JP¡¯s investments? I don¡¯t believe he makes us this much money. Or maybe I do and I just think capitalism is gross.¡± ¡°JP¡¯s portfolio isn¡¯t where most of our funding came from. It¡¯s what¡¯s left over after his consulting work with the FBI.¡± Karen stepped past James and fed a pair of coins into the vending machine, pushing a seemingly random button and waiting for her drink to dispense. ¡°He extorted them for quite a lot. But we¡¯re running out, hence the suggestion for pay cuts.¡± ¡°Worrying. But still, no. We¡¯ll find ways to bring in cash, but I won¡¯t cut pay unless it¡¯s a last resort.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Karen asked, more curious at his logic than upset at being told no. ¡°People want to give their best.¡± James explained. ¡°People also don¡¯t want to be cheated. You try to take someone who¡¯s good at what they do, and get a ¡®good deal¡¯ out of them, and you¡¯ll find that in a few months, they aren¡¯t so good. If they stick around for more than a few years, then they¡¯ve given up. That¡¯s not how you get the best out of someone. You get that by handing them what they need, and cutting the leash. And yeah, most people here would ¡®understand¡¯ pay cuts. But it¡¯s more than that. It¡¯s cultural conditioning. I want everyone in the Order to get used to the idea of a world where they don¡¯t have to be afraid of where they¡¯ll sleep, or when they¡¯ll eat. I want that to be *normal* for us, so that when we slam a city-state down and start inviting people to come join us, we¡¯ve got that foundation to our society. It has to start small, or no one will ever believe that it¡¯ll work big.¡± Karen eyed him over the glass jar the vending machine had given her. With a quick twist, she popped the lid off, and took a sip, still considering James. ¡°I worry sometimes that I may underestimate you.¡± Karen said to him. ¡°I¡¯ve been saying that to people all week.¡± James admitted. ¡°Is that any good?¡± He asked, pointing at her drink. ¡°No.¡± She replied. ¡°But it¡¯s very good for you.¡± ¡°Okay, sure. So. Options for money. We could start selling skill orbs?¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Karen cut that idea down. ¡°And while I have personal reasons for why I think it is a terrible idea to spread knowledge of the dungeons, allow me to offer you a reason that you will find effective.¡± ¡°Go right ahead!¡± James invited as he started browsing the infinite menu of buttons on the vending machine. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°The only people who could pay enough to make it worth it to us, are exactly the sort of people who don¡¯t need the ability to turn money, into even more advantages.¡± James paused. ¡°...wow, that¡¯s surprisingly compelling.¡± He admitted. ¡°Okay. Software design. Use the emerald chips to make some cool apps.¡± ¡°Already in progress, but they grow slowly.¡± Karen didn¡¯t mention that she¡¯d been the one to suggest that idea months ago. She was too professional for that. ¡°Do more jobs for the government?¡± James almost used his dollar of vending machine credit to buy a drink called ¡®Drink¡¯, but moved on, letting his thoughts get back on track. ¡°Actually, wait. Can we¡­ ask the government for funding?¡± ¡°The US federal government?¡± Karen asked. ¡°Yeah. Couldn¡¯t hurt, right?¡± ¡°You want to ask the people you intend to make obsolete, and undermine the global power structure of, if they will pay you to do so?¡± ¡°It sounds stupid when you say it like that.¡± Karen took another sip of her health drink. ¡°Yes.¡± She said. ¡°It does.¡± ¡°Okay, ow. I feel like you¡¯ve been hanging out with us for too long. I liked it more when you weren¡¯t roasting me all the time.¡± James clicked his tongue, giving up on finding anything on the buttons that resembled a clue as to which can might hold an elusive purple orb, and just closed his eyes and jabbed one at random. ¡°Okay. Well, what about¡­ hm, no, I don¡¯t know about the ethics of that one.¡± He glanced at Karen, who just raised an eyebrow at him. ¡°Well, what about selling insurance to businesses, backed up by Response? Like¡­ like a home security system.¡± ¡°But the service is already free.¡± Karen told him. ¡°And protecting businesses is much different than protecting homes and people.¡± ¡°I know. Which is why I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s ethical.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Maybe if it-¡° He was cut off mid sentence by the ding of the elevator, and both he and Karen turned to see who it was. The doors slid open, and Harvey took the six hundred mile step from the Lair into their off site office. He wasn¡¯t really focused on anything, though he did have a still steaming cup of coffee in his hand, and he got a good ways past the sun lit desks and conference table before he saw James and Karen and his walk turned into a slow stroll up to them. ¡°We¡¯re in trouble.¡± He said, voice just as deep as it ever was, but with the frayed edges of exhaustion creeping in. ¡°People keep saying that to me.¡± James said. ¡°I really wish they¡¯d stop.¡± ¡°Are you sure you should be in charge?¡± Karen casually let the words slip out as she sipped her beverage. Harvey ignored both of them, and addressed James more directly. ¡°People are starting to notice Response.¡± He said. ¡°Good?¡± James thought about it. Then nodded. ¡°Good. That¡¯s the point. Proof of concept doesn¡¯t work if there¡¯s no¡­ proof.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, I get that.¡± Harvey said. ¡°But the local police department just put a thing on their Facebook page asking for any information that could lead to arrests for the ¡®dangerous vigilanties¡¯ that have been operating in the area.¡± ¡°Okay, won¡¯t lie, that¡¯s worrying. How¡¯d they hear about us?¡± James asked. ¡°Well, that¡¯s not the first trace of us online.¡± Harvey said, setting his coffee on a nearby desk so he could pull up a page on his tablet before handing it over to James. ¡°This is a post that showed up on an AskReddit thread about paranormal experiences.¡± James skimmed the main story, and then glanced through the comments underneath it. ¡°Okay, so, this appears to be from someone who saw a camraconda while driving past? That¡¯s¡­ I mean, I won¡¯t lie, that¡¯s gonna happen. Not much we can do about it.¡± ¡°That one isn¡¯t that bad. It¡¯s mostly just people demanding an AMA with the snake, and then fifteen comments of people typing ¡®magic snake¡¯ in all caps. The problem is mostly the police Facebook. It¡¯s got a half dozen comments from people we¡¯ve either actually helped, or who might be aware of us.¡± ¡°Again, won¡¯t lie, this is probably the best opening salvo we could have hoped for.¡± James flipped through another screenshot Harvey had saved, a tumblr post that listed resources for mental health help and included their number. That one was actually a bit problematic, because they didn¡¯t have the resources for that yet, but it was nice to be noticed. The point of the Response program was to be noticed. The end objective was to passively replace the system of policing that had, in many ways, completely failed the people it was supposed to protect. James had known going in the police probably wouldn¡¯t *like* that, but fuck them. They had their chance, and they whiffed it. So he wasn¡¯t as concerned as Harvey seemed to be that the local police department was already starting to get uppity; that was the point. To be noticed, and to be public. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like the police could actually get to them here. James hummed out loud as a thought occurred. ¡°Would a warrant allow the police through Planner¡¯s smokescreen?¡± He asked. ¡°Would that count? Let¡¯s not find out. Also, none of these posts have really gone viral. I don¡¯t think we¡¯re in huge trouble here. So what¡¯s your worry?¡± He asked Harvey. ¡°That we¡¯re moving too fast.¡± Harvey said. ¡°We¡¯ve got no full time responders, except for Simon, and only three people working dispatch. We¡¯re not stable, we¡¯re not ready for this kind of attention. We need to do more, and be more, before we can handle the scrutiny that we¡¯re inviting. Also, this is *local*.¡± ¡°Yeah, because we¡¯ve been operating locally.¡± James said with a little confusion. ¡°As a test.¡± ¡°What I mean is, it doesn¡¯t have to be.¡± Harvey said. ¡°We can back off on letting people around here know about Response, and instead, focus somewhere else for a while. Choose a few small towns in the midwest. Don¡¯t cut anyone here off, but pivot where we¡¯re advertising. If we keep things a bit spread out, it¡¯ll buy us time before we actually have to have a full on confrontation and accounting of our operation.¡± ¡°What, like, just start policing Ohio?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t do worse than Ohio¡¯s cops now.¡± Harvey shrugged. ¡°And if we spread out, it¡¯s only good for us. We teleport everywhere anyway.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°I hereby authorize that. Also, I¡¯ll see about getting you some new faces. We can hire new¡­ people¡­ Karen, you seem mad. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°You already know we cannot hire new people, James.¡± It was impressive that she managed to *sound* like she wasn¡¯t being condescending when she said that, while still making James *feel* appropriately chastised. ¡°We need our budget balanced *first*.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll start a Patreon.¡± James quipped. But then, more seriously, ¡°But no, you¡¯re right. We need a real income stream to offset costs. And a big part of the problem is that the main buyers for a lot of our stuff are going to be people who we shouldn¡¯t, ethically, sell to. So, put the word out, to the whole Order. We need good ideas that will keep us solvent, and also not make the world worse while we do it. And if you really need us to, we can just devote more delver-hours to hauling out chunks of silver for you to sell on the¡­ black market?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Grey?¡± ¡°It¡¯s perfectly legal.¡± ¡°I believe you.¡± James chose. ¡°Karen, money. Harvey, Ohio, and let me know what *kind* of people you need. Now, I need to go talk to a few people about a stupidly dangerous expedition in a few days, so if you¡¯ll excuse me¡­¡± James slid back into the elevator, abandoning the two adults in the room to the work they had lined up. He¡¯d only come up here in the first place to raid the vending machine. The revelation that the drinks from the vending machines could, under at least one condition, contain the most rare purple orbs, had been an important one. And the single vending machine that they¡¯d hauled out of the dungeon and transplanted to this office space was an easy way to continue testing that, exploring the seemingly endless menu of options they had on offer. Someone had suggested just cracking it open. James put a stop to that idea pretty quickly, though. He wasn¡¯t the only one who had the *feeling*, when he looked at the drink dispenser, that the monolithic machine was somehow *very dangerous* if provoked. After his personal encounter with one last week, he hadn¡¯t even really wanted to move this one again. Best not to risk it. So far, they hadn¡¯t uncovered any more secret orb purchases. But James figured it was only a matter of time. Honestly, what had surprised him most about today, hadn¡¯t been Research punching a hole in the parking lot, or that more and more things were all starting to spin out of control at once. No, it had been that Karen was¡­ on board with everything? James had this mental image of the stoic woman as exactly that. A stoic member of the management caste of American society. Someone who didn¡¯t exactly ¡®want¡¯ the status quo, really, but who benefited from it, and whose job very much kept it propped up. And that person, that expectation, came through sometimes. She didn¡¯t trust people she didn¡¯t know, she didn¡¯t want to spread around knowledge of the Order, and she *certainly* didn¡¯t want everyone having magic. But when James said ¡°we¡¯re going to replace the police¡±, Karen said, ¡°good, someone needs to keep the peace properly.¡± When James said ¡°we¡¯re hiring a bunch of high schoolers¡±, Karen said ¡°fine, get their parent¡¯s permission.¡± When James said ¡°I want a moon base¡±, Karen didn¡¯t tell him that was stupid, or worthless, or that it wasn¡¯t his place to make that call. She *did* tell him that they couldn¡¯t afford it, which¡­ fair. Disappointing, but *fair*. The point was, she kept surprising him. Kept being a better person than he expected when he wasn¡¯t looking. She was still grumpy all the time, still standoffish and pragmatic to the point of being cold. But she never once acted like the camracondas weren¡¯t people, she never told them they didn¡¯t have the right to make the world better, and she¡¯d even started bringing her daughter to the Lair on weekends. It was a change, of sorts. But a welcome one, a positive shift toward something hopeful. And she wasn¡¯t the only person who¡¯d gone through something like that. It left James feeling hopeful as he stepped off the elevator and went to plan something stupidly dangerous with the more reckless delvers in their Order. _____ ¡°What about her?¡± Myles asked into his cell phone. He was sitting at a side table in an alarmingly open bar, in the middle of nowheresville Texas, alternating between listening in on other patrons, and watching the entrance to a coffee shop located across the dying strip mall. ¡°She looks like she¡¯s out of place here.¡± What he didn¡¯t add was the phrase ¡®like me¡¯. But he thought it. ¡°Yeah.¡± JP¡¯s voice came back to him. ¡°Don¡¯t stare too hard, but if she looks up, don¡¯t shy away from eye contact. You¡¯re talking to someone, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± He answered, taking a deep breath and gnawing at his lip under his mask. Nate had pointed out to them earlier that the pandemic made great cover for anyone learning tradecraft, because masks could smooth over a lot of facial tells and mouth movements that would otherwise give you away. Of course, wearing a mask, in a bar, in the eastern edge of Texas, was the opposite of inconspicuous, but it was all about trade offs. He¡¯d also have to take it off to eventually drink the beer he¡¯d got sitting in front of him. Instead, he kept an eye on the woman who¡¯d just walked into the bar. Their target. Their target, who was a spy. Probably. What in the fuck had *happened* in his life. Well, he¡¯d snuck into a secret headquarters for a clandestine society of radical anarchist dungeon crawling adventures, for one thing. Everything else had kinda snowballed from there. And before you knew it, an ex-agent was teaching you how to lose a tail and you were getting teleported across the country on stakeouts. ¡°Keep an eye on her.¡± JP told him over the open line. ¡°Also, let¡¯s go over a lesson. How did we know she¡¯d be here?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ a tip?¡± He asked, and could almost feel JP cocking an eyebrow. ¡°Sorry, yeah. Legwork. Nate talked to one of the bartenders, offered a reward for any unusual behavior, and he contacted us when someone new rolled into town and started asking questions. So now I wait here, for that person to come back. Um¡­ can I ask something?¡± There was no response, so Myles assumes the answer was yes. ¡°Why am I here, and not you or Nate?¡± ¡°Good question.¡± JP said, like a bastard. ¡°So. Now what?¡± Myles blinked, and remembered what Nate had drilled into him. ¡°Keep watching, don¡¯t get too close. I¡¯m just supposed to figure out where she¡¯s staying, so don¡¯t risk contact. Um¡­ drink some of my beer? So it¡¯s not suspicious? Sit here and listen?¡± ¡°Good call, kid.¡± Nate¡¯s voice answered, though from a bit farther away and on speakerphone. Myles sat for a bit, sipping his drink and puzzling something out. He¡¯d sat his phone down, but still had a Bluetooth earbud in; holding the phone up was just more obvious cover for speaking. It didn¡¯t take more than a few seconds for it to click in his head; he was here because the bartender knew Nate¡¯s face. If the person they were asking questions about who was asking questions about strange things on their own said anything, and the bartender glanced at Nate, that could give away the game. And right now, it was more important that they identify who this woman worked for, and if they should pursue her as a lead. A part of Myles¡¯ brain heard JP make some kind of sarcastic comment through the headset, but he found himself suddenly distracted. Something was *wrong*. Wrong in a way beyond the weird perception skill orbs, wrong in a way past anything that was actually visible. There was something¡­ off. Something instinctually problematic. Myles told his teachers to shut up, and started scanning across the parking lot through the bar¡¯s plate glass windows, hand unclenching from around his mug as he set his mask back in place. JP kept talking, but Nate silenced him, sensing the sudden solidity in Myles¡¯ voice. Parking lot. Too many cars for comfort, too much sun for December, even if it was properly cold. Cracked asphalt, brown weeds growing up through the hard ground with slashes of green every now and then. There was a grocery store that was doing a fair amount of business, a fabric outlet, two coffee shops, a sushi joint, and a mechanic. And then six boarded up empty slots in the dying strip mall. But even still, there were people moving around. A family with three young kids, an old man getting some shopping done, a handful of people eating cake outside the coffee shop, a half dozen cars with people still in them¡­ Myles stopped, the tension in his gut unknotting a little bit, as he noticed something. ¡°Hey.¡± He asked into the phone. ¡°Why am I out here?¡± ¡°Training.¡± Nate said, giving him an over the shoulder wave from the front seat of the van on the outskirts of the parking lot. ¡°Uggggh.¡± Myles groaned. ¡°I thought we were doing something important! You told me¡­!¡± ¡°Hey.¡± Nate cut him off. ¡°Getting you this kind of practice *is* important. None of James¡¯ bullshit skills are reliable, and so far, none of them have been about this kind of on the ground work. Before we start sending you out to actually gather intel, you need to be able to do the basics with your eyes closed. Good instincts, though. And this *is* important, you *are* on assignment. I¡¯m just backup.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know¡­¡± Myles didn¡¯t complain too much. ¡°So. Walk me through it. How¡¯d you notice?¡± ¡°I just started looking. Something felt wrong. I guess¡­¡± He thought about it, before coming to a tentative conclusion. ¡°I could have noticed anytime, I just wasn¡¯t looking until something was off. And the target started looking nervous too, I guess. So I started looking.¡± ¡°So, next time?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t stop looking?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t look all the time, kid.¡± Nate told him. ¡°But you can do a hard look more often, on your own terms. Remember that. You said the target looks nervous?¡± ¡°Kinda.¡± Myles said quietly, pitching his voice quiet, but in a tone that wouldn¡¯t carry far, like he¡¯d been taught. ¡°She keeps glancing at the door; she¡¯s looked at me a few times.¡± He evaluated the measure of her gaze as she looked his way again. ¡°Not that she¡¯s suspicious, unless she can read my lips through the mask. I think she¡¯s waiting for someone.¡± ¡°Alright. Act like you¡¯ve hung up. Set the phone down, then tap the earpiece and look contrite.¡± Nate sounded weirdly proud of that word choice. ¡°Sit for a while longer, listen in if you can. I¡¯ll be on the line for backup if you need it.¡± Myles sighed, glad Nate couldn¡¯t see him rolling his eyes as he followed directions. And then it was a waiting game. Myles used the stuff that Nate had been drilling into him, making sure he could always see the woman they were surveilling out of the corner of his eye as he mostly focused on the bar¡¯s TV. Wrestling wasn¡¯t his thing, but it was something to do, and he couldn¡¯t really make small talk while he did this. The one thing he hadn¡¯t been made aware of, going in, was that spying on people was actually quite boring. Eighteen minutes later - he counted - someone else sat down at the target¡¯s table. ¡°Huh.¡± He muttered. He was sitting by the door, but hadn¡¯t seen this other woman come in. Was there a back entrance? He didn¡¯t want to jump to conclusions about this being the kind of arcane society they were hunting after. But it felt weird. ¡°So good to see you!¡± The new arrival said. Except, Myles¡¯ ears rejected that. She¡¯d said something else. ¡°Hey there, how ya been!¡± And ¡°Well hello again old friend!¡± And¡­ multiple sentences, all basically the same, all layered on top of each other. The target muttered something in reply. It didn¡¯t sound happy at all. The new woman spoke again, and Myles tried to sift out the meaning from her words. But his head started to ache and his vision blurred. This was wrong. Something was going on, and it wasn¡¯t too much warm beer. ¡°Weird¡­¡± He mumbled. And the new woman¡¯s head snapped around to look at him, smiling eyes meeting his own. She had beautiful eyes. One of them was red, the other was green, the other set was blue, her left eye was scarred over, her left eye was a little off center. She winked at Myles. He recovered from the shock like a champion, shooting her a goofy grin and raising his glass her direction. ¡°You ladies want some company?¡± He asked, putting a tiny slur on his words. ¡°No. Fuck off.¡± The target barked at him, and he wilted under her stare as the newcomer laughed. ¡°Aw.¡± Myles stood. ¡°Well, no worries. Sorry to bother you, miss.¡± He said, wandering down the bar¡¯s back hall to the men¡¯s room, putting a tiny tilt on his walk. The instant the door closed, he hissed into the headset. ¡°Nate.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Something¡¯s wrong. What¡¯s going on with the new contact?¡± He demanded of his backup. Myles glanced around the dingy bathroom. It hadn¡¯t been cleaned since before the pandemic, and it also didn¡¯t have a lock for the door. Not that he thought that would matter. Something about that woman set his nerves on edge; like she could wipe him out of existence without trying. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Nate asked. Over the phone, the sound of a door slamming echoed, and Myles checked his wing mirror to see Nate stepping out of the van for a smoke. ¡°The people you were talking to? ¡°Well, she doesn¡¯t have a hair color.¡± Myles said, confused. ¡°Or¡­ skin? What the fuck is the target talking to?!¡± He was growing increasingly agitated. Something was wrong. The more he thought about how she looked, the more questions his brain fed him about the nature of the woman talking to the target. ¡°Nate?¡± ¡°...Leave. Now.¡± Nate told him. ¡°Telepad out.¡± His voice was strained. ¡°But what is¡­¡± ¡°Stop talking.¡± Nate said, the order so sharp and hard that Myles instantly remembered that the person who was training him had been a soldier, then a spy, and that when he needed to, he could project a scary level of violence. ¡°Out. Now. No questions.¡± Myles obeyed without saying anything else, hanging up first to avoid causing problems with his connection, and then writing the rally point¡¯s address on his telepad and blinking out. They¡¯d deal with the rental cars later, he guessed. He caught himself as his feet touched down on loose gravel, slipping a little bit. As Myles righted himself and brushed his hands off, Nate snapped into existence next to him. ¡°So, now what?¡± Myles asked him, rubbing his bare arms against the sudden cold of the empty Oregon field where they¡¯d parked their cars and were using as a rally point. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡°Now we wait here for a while.¡± Nate told him, lit cigarette still held between his teeth. He looked somewhere between angry and resigned. ¡°Um¡­ what are we waiting for?¡± He tried to calm down. ¡°Well. If we¡¯re very lucky, nothing.¡± Nate said. Myles didn¡¯t feel very good, all of a sudden. ¡°What if we¡¯re unlucky?¡± He asked, his stomach doing somersaults in his gut. ¡°Is there a worst case scenario?¡± ¡°Worst case? The Old Gun follows us somehow, shows up, kills us both, and traces us back to the Lair, where she kills everyone else.¡± Nate said. ¡°The¡­ what? *What*!? What the fuck?!¡± ¡°Calm down. Deep breaths.¡± Nate told him, flipping open the trunk of his car and extracting a gun that looked like someone had turned a shark into a very lethal firearm. With a smooth motion, he slung the strap over his shoulder, loaded a magazine, checked the chamber, and got into a kneeling position. Almost as an afterthought, he took a drag on his cigarette. ¡°What is going on!?¡± Myles demanded, panic rising. ¡°That thing you saw,¡± Nate told him, ¡°it¡¯s the same thing James ran into in the school last year. Probably. The thing they fought was¡­ well, there¡¯s a lot of rumors, and no hard intel. Some people think it¡¯s what happens to people like us after too long. Some people think it¡¯s a god.¡± Nate filled him in on the creature, relaying as much as he remembered off the top of his head, before ending with, ¡°Either way, we don¡¯t have a way to kill it right now. But¡­ we do have a protocol for dealing with stuff like that, and it¡¯s ugly.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°Die quickly, and far away from anyone else.¡± Nate said grimly. Myles stiffened. ¡°Why was it talking to the target?¡± ¡°Good question.¡± Nate said. ¡°I dunno. You tell me.¡± Even now, it was still training. Myles glared at his teacher for a second, but then ran through his memory of the scene. ¡°She didn¡¯t look like she thought anything was weird. But she also didn¡¯t look happy. So¡­ not working together, probably. The target either couldn¡¯t see it, or was used to it. But she seemed¡­ high school angry. Like she was being forced to do something.¡± ¡°Did you overhear anything?¡± Nate asked. ¡°Anything the Old Gun said that might explain why she was there? Nothing the informant said made it sound like this was normal.¡± He added, continuing to sweep his vision over the empty field. ¡°So?¡± ¡°Well.¡± Myles thought. That¡¯s why they¡¯d hired him, after all. To *think*. To find the weak spots and weird bits in the world. ¡°Okay. So, the Old Gun isn¡¯t local, then.¡± He decided. ¡°And it needs people for something. It sounds like¡­ it sounds like it doesn¡¯t care about killing anyone? Like, it¡¯s not murderous, just that it doesn¡¯t value life?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the general consensus.¡± Nate nodded. ¡°She didn¡¯t look surprised.¡± Myles said, shoulders slumping. ¡°It¡¯s trying to get her to do something. Or giving orders. Checking in with an agent, maybe? Or maybe¡­ there¡¯s too much we don¡¯t know.¡± Nate glanced at him, raised one eyebrow in appreciation, and gave a small nod. He checked his watch. ¡°Alright. We wait here another hour. After that, you¡¯ve got an assignment.¡± ¡°What?¡± Myles tensed up. ¡°Doing what?¡± ¡°Actually keeping tabs on the target.¡± Nate grumbled. ¡°Don¡¯t look so glum. You get off easy. I¡¯m the one who gets to tell James about all this. You¡¯re gonna get to play with the program that hijacks traffic cams.¡± _____ James paused the YouTube video he was watching as his cohorts in madness arrived. He was watching a thing about beetles, and while it wasn¡¯t exactly what he wanted to be doing, it was useful, because it had been worth four points toward his biology Lesson. And he was pretty sure he could push that one over the edge tonight. Right now, though, they had a delve to plan. For the first time in too long, they were actually using the warehouse to *plan dungeon activity*. He¡¯d set up two large boards next to the table they¡¯d be using, displaying a sketch of the route to the goal, and then printouts of every relevant picture they¡¯d managed to grab of the target zone. The objective? The bathrooms. That spire of blue and white tile that pierced through the false ceiling and plumbed the depths of the dungeon itself. Pun mildly intended. The crew? Well, they were filtering in now. ¡°Hey!¡± James greeted Anesh as his boyfriend took a seat next to him, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. And then, unsatisfied with that, a series of descending small kisses down Anesh¡¯s neck that left his partner sputtering a laugh as he pushed James away. ¡°Hey to you too.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I have a thing, courtesy of Sarah.¡± He said, holding up one of Clutter Ascent¡¯s bond sticks. <| Connection Open : Anesh Patel - James Lyle : One Corridor Established : One Corridor Empty |> The two of them hissed along with the rapid flare of light that marked a small circle on the backs of each of the right hands. This was the second one for both of them, Anesh sharing a connection with Alanna and James with Sarah. But the mental nudge they got when they cracked the stick didn¡¯t mention those; so it must only count ones between the same set of people. Each of them independently wondered what would happen if you stacked connections between two close friends. They also wondered at what personal moment would activate the currently empty link between them, turning it into the world¡¯s most powerful sharing tool. ¡°We¡¯ll fill that in later.¡± James smirked at his boyfriend as he lightly elbowed his side, eliciting a riotous blush from him. ¡°Please, not in public.¡± Simon said, pulling up a chair on the side of the table and dragging a second chair out with a hooked foot for the dog shaped magnetic distortion that was his closest companion to hop up on. ¡°You¡¯ll make Anesh implode.¡± ¡°That¡¯s largely the idea!¡± James kept the innuendo train going, shooting finger guns at Simon, before backing off into more serious territory. ¡°How¡¯re you doing, by the way? Anything I can help with?¡± ¡°We¡¯re alright.¡± Simon shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m alright. It¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m fine.¡± It wasn¡¯t exactly a lie, but it was obviously not the whole truth. Simon noticed that James noticed, but he held strong under the disbelieving look the paladin shot him. ¡°Really. I promise I will let you know if I need anything.¡± ¡°Alright¡­¡± James accepted that. He was still worried. Or perhaps just concerned. Ever since Simon¡¯s partner had lost his body last year, and Simon had grabbed as much of his mind and personality as possible, the kid hadn¡¯t been the same. Obviously. But while he seemed to be adapting well to whatever his new existence was, it didn¡¯t mean James wasn¡¯t going to be ready to help if he could. ¡°Hey nerds!¡± The next person to approach was Alex, taking a break from assisting in the Lair¡¯s kitchen for this, but still wearing a stained apron. ¡°Guess what I got?!¡± She grinned as she slid into a chair opposite Simon. ¡°In trouble with Nate for not cutting the carrots right?¡± ¡°That¡¯s weirdly specific.¡± Anesh glanced at James. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°Not cut the carrots right. Apparently, skill orbs for cooking don¡¯t help if your chef is *super picky* about¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s great.¡± Alex cut him off. ¡°But I got my Lesson leveled up!¡± ¡°Oh, rad!¡± James grinned as her enthusiasm bled into the group. ¡°That¡¯ll probably be useful for this. What¡¯d you get from it? It was home ec, right?¡± Alex nodded, and motioned to the apron. ¡°Yeah, hence the¡­ well, whatever. I got Timing. It¡¯s kinda cool, because it¡¯s, like, very dramatic how obvious it is when I need to use it? It¡¯s not just guessing what time it is or how long something¡¯s been in the oven, it¡¯s also how long things *should* be in the oven, even if I shouldn¡¯t know that. It¡¯s cool, even if it¡¯s not exactly for a fight, you know?¡± ¡°Still rad. And every bit is valuable.¡± James reminded her. ¡°Alright, well. Momo and Tyrone will be joining us on the expedition, but she¡¯s busy right now, and he¡¯s at work, so we¡¯re the planning team. So. Let¡¯s get down to business.¡± Alex and Simon both opened their mouths at the same time, eyes glittering with smiling amusement. ¡°To def-¡° ¡°So anyway!¡± James cut them off. ¡°Our objective is *this*!¡± He turned in his seat, and slapped his hand under a printed image pinned to the board behind him. It was a low resolution image of as far down to the bottom of the bathroom¡¯s spire that they could see. And the single strange thing floating there in what looked to be a bubble of some kind. Alex raised her hand. ¡°So, I got the invite here because I have two ranks in free climbing now, and that¡¯s cool, but no one actually told me what¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Okay, let me explain.¡± James said. ¡°No!¡± Anesh cut in. ¡°Don¡¯t explain, sum up!¡± ¡°Let me sum up.¡± James reiterated. ¡°We want to try to get to the very bottom of the bathroom; or at least, as far down as we can see right now. There¡¯s clearly something down there, and I¡¯m beyond curious what it is.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a Nokia flip phone.¡± Simon dryly stated. ¡°We know what it *is*.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯m direly curious what it *does*.¡± James told him with a rude noise. ¡°The dungeon doesn¡¯t put stuff in places like this for no reason. Or, if it does, then we need to learn that too. So. Enter the bathroom, secure the entry platform, and begin making our way toward the target. Secure it, and leave.¡± ¡°How far down is that?¡± Simon asked. ¡°Anesh?¡± James prompted. Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°Assuming no wonky space, rough estimate based on the size of the first platform is that it¡¯s six hundred feet.¡± ¡°That is¡­ a lethal fall.¡± Simon commented. ¡°I don¡¯t think we can do this, I won¡¯t lie.¡± ¡°I know I can¡¯t climb back up that far, no.¡± James agreed with a nod. ¡°But I still seriously want that thing. If only to settle the ongoing bet I have with Daniel about what it does.¡± He gestured to the image of the phone. ¡°Well, we can put together a rough map of the inside of the spire, right?¡± Alex asked. ¡°Can we¡­ I mean, why don¡¯t we just take a billion ropes and spikes in, and set up a pulley up at the top? Is there anything actually stopping us?¡± ¡°We have no idea what lives in there.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°And what James isn¡¯t saying is that we know there¡¯s at least *one* thing that lives in there. Check the silverfish entry in the manual.¡± He directed them. ¡°Ew.¡± Alex and Simon said in unison. ¡°Yes, ew, but they also aren¡¯t that dangerous if we have a decent ranged weapon.¡± James added. ¡°And we have those. A lot.¡± ¡°Is that¡­ sorry, these pictures are unclear.¡± Simon traced a line on one of the images on the board. ¡°Is this water? Just hovering in air?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s weird.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Right, sorry, forgot where I was for a second.¡± Simon leaned back. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think we can do this safely without a few blue abilities that make it possible. Even if we build a rope pulley, and we *should*, there¡¯s going to be something down there.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Anesh asked, curious. James answered in Simon¡¯s place. ¡°He means a boss fight, right?¡± A nod. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s too¡­ obvious. It¡¯s like the towers. They get harder on higher floors, and the upper floors always have greens. This¡¯ll probably be like that. We just don¡¯t know what¡¯s down there.¡± ¡°Oh! Drones!¡± Alex snapped her fingers. ¡°Don¡¯t we have, like, a hundred camera drones in the basement? Next time we go in, just get someone to puppet a bunch in. Hey, we can even time how long it takes to get there, too, so we¡¯ll know how long we have.¡± ¡°About two thirds of the path there is this giant corridor.¡± James tapped the map on the whiteboard. ¡°And we¡¯ve got bikes ready to go. If we want to set up the pulley ahead of time¡­ no, wait. The reset thing.¡± ¡°I know this is weird, but I kinda hate that the dungeon resets now.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°It¡¯s mildly convenient a lot of the time, but also a giant bloody pain for things like this.¡± Alex rapped her knuckles on the table. ¡°Well, I wanna see this place anyway. So we can go this week? If that¡¯s okay? And I¡¯ll learn how to do the drone thing, if no one else wants to.¡± ¡°That would be handy. We don¡¯t really have a drone enthusiast¡­ anymore.¡± James felt his energy die out, his eyes drifting shut. He shook his head a couple times, and snapped back to the conversation. ¡°Anyone else have anything to suggest?¡± He asked. No one did. ¡°Alright. Well, we¡¯ll do more scouting. But I want to tackle this within a month. Obviously, yes, doing it safely. But I mean¡­¡± He looked at them, and shrugged. ¡°The last thing we found at the end of a tower,¡± Anesh said, ¡°let us duplicate magic items.¡± ¡°Maybe this thing makes us invincible!¡± Alex suggested as they all stood and made to leave. Simon glanced at her as the two of them headed for the door. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a Nokia.¡± She answered simply, grinning. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m wearing off on people, and it¡¯s great.¡± James muttered to Anesh. His boyfriend nodded glumly. ¡°Soon all will be puns.¡± ¡°As it was meant to be. Hey, can I get a ride home?¡± He asked. ¡°Just teleport! Or, hell, if you really want to drive, borrow my car, and I¡¯ll teleport. I¡¯m honestly not sure why I drive anymore at all.¡± Anesh tossed James his keys. ¡°Go. Relax. I¡¯m mandating that you take the rest of the day off.¡± ¡°Yes sir!¡± James saluted energetically. And then waited for Anesh to respond. After a slightly awkward pause, he leaned in, and asked, ¡°Not gonna tell me not to call you that?¡± ¡°Not if you¡¯re following orders.¡± Anesh grinned wolfishly at him. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re not the only one who can turn the tables.¡± The two of them both laughed, any sense of awkwardness between them completely gone at this point. ¡°Seriously, go. Play some games or watch some youtube or something. I¡¯m gonna hang out here for a while and do math homework, but I¡¯ll be home in a few hours.¡± ¡°I thought you were done with homework?¡± ¡°Yeah. And then classes started again. College keeps going.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Didn¡¯t you¡­ graduate?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°...And?¡± ¡°And what?¡± Anesh had already occupied a swath of the table with notebooks and a textbook that looked incredibly threatening. James decided he was going to have to concede this one. ¡°And nothing. See you later.¡± _____ James was taking a break. A real break, not a working break where he was still trying to level something up, or was just relaxing in his office and still being available to talk to. Though he did have youtube videos about deep sea life up on his other monitor. So not one hundred percent a break. But it wasn¡¯t like he was listening to them with much focus, if his Lesson was to be believed. [Lesson Continues : Biology 188/200 Lesson Continues : Basketball 71/1200] He should play more basketball. That one had been stagnating, since he¡¯d gotten busy. Get some pickup games going with the new people at the Lair. It was great exercise, which he needed more of anyway, and as Anesh had pointed out, surprising fun once you got past the learning stage. As with any skill, he supposed. Once you were good enough, you could start getting better, and messing around a bit. Like his personal journey to learn how to cook without accidentally killing his friends or his pots. One worrying thing, which Sarah had confirmed for him when she¡¯d stacked a second skill book from the school as well, was that the second lesson started out with a requirement twice what the first had. James had hoped he¡¯d been misremembering things; something that he didn¡¯t worry about as much anymore. But no, the threshold rose. Which was a real problem, and suddenly made it clear how the Akashic Sewer was ¡®cheating¡¯. They knew Officium Mundi cheated, in a way. Well, they called it cheating, but it was really more of a real-world example of a balancing mechanic. So many skills were just useless. There were a billion rewards, and only three useful ones. The Sewer, it seemed, was going a different direction. The rewards were powerful, but there was a soft cap on them. By your third or fourth Lesson, you¡¯d be needing to be taking 300-level college courses just to put a dent in the requirements. If he was lucky, it wasn¡¯t also making basketball harder. The reward for his basketball lesson was beyond powerful for someone like him who very often was called on to shoot things. Or people. Not missing was a real game changer. James shook himself out of his thoughts as he felt a tapping on his elbow. ¡°Eh? Oh, sorry Rufus.¡± He reached down and gave the little stapler a pet along its spine. It was still a little unclear how, exactly, Rufus arranged transport between their apartment and the Lair, but he did it, and no one seemed like they were in a position to question it. And it was relaxing, to have a low-energy friend around while you were playing video games. Right now, James was playing Rimworld, while Rufus watched, and mimed out commentary. ¡°So, I¡¯m thinking that what we need next is a hospital zone.¡± James explained. Rufus nodded enthusiastically, tapping at a part of the screen. James quirked an eyebrow and scrolled over. ¡°The prison? No, that¡¯s not gonna¡­¡± Rufus cut him off, waving his forelegs in a way that made it eerily clear what he was trying to get across. ¡°Open up¡­ take out¡­ sell¡­ Are you trying to get me to harvest the prisoner¡¯s organs?¡± James gave Rufus a disappointed frown, tilting his head down at the stapler. ¡°That¡¯s just rude.¡± Rufus scrambled around the keyboard to point at other parts of the screen. Look, James! Look! You are low on silver and there is a merchant caravan *right there*! Now is the perfect time to turn their delicious meat parts into cash! He danced the meaning of his important message at his friend. James ran his teeth over his upper lip. ¡°Are you¡­ *sure* you¡¯ve never played this game before?¡± He asked Rufus. The strider nodded, but then did that little side tilt he did when he had an addendum, and tapped at his forward eye, and then the computer. ¡°You¡¯ve watched some, huh?¡± A solid nod. ¡°I feel like we should get some parental controls for Twitch.¡± James grumbled. He put it on the list of things to do that weren¡¯t dungeon related, right under paying rent, and getting a new car. Though that second one might technically not count. And he might not do it, since as Anesh had touched on earlier, it was probably more environmentally friendly to just telepad everywhere. Almost everything in his life was dungeon related these days. Half his friends were nonhuman, he made a living using skills and resources from the dungeons, even his casual hobbies and youtube habits were tilted now toward the things that would get him upgrades. And since they¡¯d successfully copied the potions JP had brought back, soon, not even exercise would be ¡®normal¡¯ for him anymore. Not that he was complaining. Far from it. The video he was watching was talking about the blobfish, and it suddenly struck James, along with a point of biology lesson, that he was the reverse of that bizarre creature. The blobfish was a perfectly normal looking fish, at its depth. But haul one up to the surface, and the change in pressure basically liquified its flesh. Hence the name; it turned into a blob. James was the other way around; he¡¯d been born and raised in a world that was *wrong* for him, where magic wasn¡¯t real and adventure was replaced by going to college for a skill you didn¡¯t care about and then not using your degree in a job you anti-cared about. Stepping through the doors into Officium Mundi had been him settling into his proper depth. It was really, really hard to be mad at Research for turning his car into a modern art sculpture, when he could teleport everywhere. It was less hard, but still difficult, to be grumpy about the aches and pains in his body when almost every one of them was a reminder of some exciting moment. It was a challenge to empathize with Karen about their finances when they had a literal goldmine under the building. He should tell her about the gold mine. Even now, trying his best to relax, to decompress from spending endless hours dealing with people, doing work, running errands, and being a responsible leader and mild folk hero¡­ well, he was still thinking about the next delve. About the next step forward. Not that it wasn¡¯t *fun* to interpret his stapler buddy¡¯s charades-style encouragement to do space crimes in the game they were sharing. It was fun. In fact, life got a lot more relaxed in general the instant all his material needs were solved after one good day in the dungeon. He was gonna take the dog for a walk in a little bit, and the fresh air was gonna smell *extra nice* without the lingering spectre of the threat of homelessness on it. But it wasn¡¯t the same as something magic. Not really. Maybe Momo was right. Maybe he should take up totemic magic as a bonus hobby. Chapter 141 ¡°Compassion is not a luxury. It is a necessity for the survival of humanity.¡± -The Dalai Lama- Alanna felt a great deal more free than she had at the start of the month. She¡¯d had what a lot of people probably would have killed for; a fresh start. But unlike most people, she hadn¡¯t actually asked for it - or if she did she didn¡¯t remember - and also her fresh start had occured in Florida. As a woman of, she presumed, culture, Alanna had a general bias against Florida. Living in it hadn¡¯t done much to fix that. Her life since waking up had been a series of weeks in the hospital, followed by shitty part time jobs and struggling to make rent on the shared apartments that she found herself crashing in. She hadn¡¯t really made any friends. At best she had made what could charitably be called ¡®contacts¡¯. She felt like an outsider. And being able to walk off a gunshot kinda cemented that feeling. The thing was, she didn¡¯t really know what to *do*. She had a total of zero clues about who, what, or how she was. No one had come forward to claim her as friend or family. The doctors found her to be a curiosity, but not in any immediate danger, and in an era when the state¡¯s hospitals were overflowing with the sick and dying, a curiosity without insurance wasn¡¯t worth keeping around. So she¡¯d just sort of been plodding through her life, waiting for something to happen. She knew she should be doing something, but in a weird, detached way. Alanna remembered that she had opinions, but she didn¡¯t remember why they¡¯d formed. What had she been through to make her think that it was okay, for example, to get in a fight with the police? Why did she prioritize human life so highly? Why did she know how to use a gun if she hated them? She *knew* she hated guns. But her hands could do things with them that she didn¡¯t want to think about too hard. It was how in math class, a teacher would tell you to show your work. Alanna had the answer, but no work. How had she gotten there without understanding the process? So she¡¯d been languishing. Trapped. She took part time work and did odd jobs, some of them for people who were very obviously criminals. She paid for a place to sleep, accumulated some spare furniture, and spent a lot of time trying to google solutions to amnesia. She didn¡¯t really talk to anyone that much. It was hard to connect with people when Alanna didn¡¯t have a background that could be drawn on. And yet, she could instantly understand what other people were feeling. Just another skipped step, an answer with no process. And then, another fight. Not the first one she¡¯d been in, but possibly the stupidest. Two of the local boys in blue, laid out by a single girl. *And* she¡¯d taken their guns. It had seemed fair. But it also meant it was probably time for her to leave. Because the guns weren¡¯t the only thing she¡¯d gotten from them. She had a *lead* now. A single flash of a memory, maybe no more than a fantasy, maybe just her brain playing tricks on her. But it felt so real, and it wasn¡¯t like Alanna had anything else to be doing anyway. That thought had been what had pushed her out of her stagnate loop. She *didn¡¯t have anything better to do*. What was she *doing* with her days? Saving up to afford a phone with internet access? Taking jobs that paid out half in cash, half in pot? Fucking around wandering the town like a lost puppy, waiting for someone to recognize her? Alanna didn¡¯t *belong* here. And now, while she didn¡¯t know where exactly she *was* supposed to be, she knew it wasn¡¯t here. Wasn¡¯t Florida, wasn¡¯t Safety Harbor, wasn¡¯t this shitty apartment in a shitty neighborhood with shitty people who kept trying to steal her weed when she wasn¡¯t home. She¡¯d traded the guns, and everything else she owned, to a man names Channy who was missing as many scruples as he was teeth. In exchange, she¡¯d gotten a ¡®92 Honda CRV that had been in two accidents, was missing any sign of ever having had a back seat, smelled like old dirt on the inside, and usually took three tries to start. It was perfect, it was her glorious chariot that would lead her north, and it had instantly required the rest of her savings to get the leak in the gas tank fixed. Not to mention bargaining and scraping up a few coins to hit up a thrift store to grab a backpack, and a pillow and couple blankets to pad out the back. But *after that* it was perfect, and without saying a single goodbye, she¡¯d hit the road north. She was free. Freedom wasn¡¯t the car, or the case of granola bars she¡¯d liberated from the shipping dock of the grocery store she¡¯d worked at for a couple weeks, or even her bulletproof skin. To be free was to realize that she owned herself. That her mistakes and her victories were her own. To have a goal, however foolish, to strive for. To know that she could leave when she wanted, do what she wanted, be beholden to no one but herself and her own honor. Honor. What a strange word, that showed up so often in her thoughts. She didn¡¯t know what had happened to her to make it the forefront of so many of her obfuscated opinions, but it must have been something powerful. Alanna had something more than just opinions, she had *convictions*. And even though she didn¡¯t fully understand the why of them, she knew who she was through them. She¡¯d work with criminals, she¡¯d rob a company blind, she¡¯d literally fight the law. But she¡¯d never hurt anyone who didn¡¯t ask for it. She¡¯d never be less than her best when she tried. Now, driving away from where she¡¯d felt so trapped, the gears in her head clicked into place. And she understood that, fully. All or nothing. Something so familiar there. A spicy sweet touch on the edge of her thoughts. Her foot hit the gas a little harder, and she winced as the car made a *noise*. But then the rumbling passed, and the acceleration kicked in, and she was flying, and free. _____ ¡°Hey!¡± El¡¯s voice cut into the stale air of the ranch home. ¡°Mom? I¡¯m¡­ hoooome!¡± The last word cut off abruptly, and with an indignant squawk from El, as her mother barreled into her from the side, wrapping thick arms around her errant daughter. El was not tall. At about 5¡¯2¡± and change, she¡¯d never been one to tower over anyone she met. And yet, she still dwarfed her mom, standing head and shoulders over the smaller woman who¡¯d raised her. And for all that, she *still* couldn¡¯t stop herself being crushed and lifted almost off her feet by her excitable matriarch. ¡°Oh, sweetheart! You¡¯re back!¡± Her mother squeezed her hard enough that Eleanor felt like her ribs were going to crack. ¡°I was so worried! Are you hurt? Are you alright? Are you in any trouble?¡± The questions came in a barrage of concerned words. El¡¯s mom had had her when she was pretty young, but even still, it always caught El off guard when her mom had more youthful energy than she did. ¡°I¡¯m fine mom.¡± She sighed, kicking her shoes off while fending off any further assault and trying not to get the melting snow on her socks. ¡°I just¡­ aw, hell. I¡¯m sorry I haven¡¯t called.¡± El¡¯s mom stepped back, framed up El with outstretched hands, and took a look at her daughter. She¡¯d cut her hair short again, was currently sporting the remains of a black eye, and continued to wear clothing that was probably very fashionable with the kids these days. She nodded once. ¡°Good!¡± She exclaimed. And then, without further preamble, started punching El in the arm. ¡°You didn¡¯t call! You didn¡¯t leave a note! You dropped out of college?! What were you *thinking*!?¡± ¡°Ow! Mom, ow! Stop!¡± El recoiled from the assault, struggling to defend herself from someone she was absolutely unwilling to hit back at. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! Ow, fuck! Mom!¡± ¡°Months! You have been gone *months!¡± Her mom shouted at her. How such a small woman could produce a noise that would frighten away dragons, El wasn¡¯t sure, and she wasn¡¯t about to find out. ¡°I thought you were dead! I thought¡­¡± Her mom¡¯s voice broke down, and soon, she was hugging El instead of punching her. ¡°I though¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mom. Really.¡± El said, returning the hug, albeit with an aching shoulder. ¡°I thought I was¡­ ah, I dunno. I¡¯m just sorry.¡± ¡°Well. You can explain it over dinner.¡± Her mom said, eventually relenting from the embrace. ¡°I¡¯m making fritters! And in the meantime, girl, you need a shower! Have you been living out of your car?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± El winced. ¡°Well, not my car. I mean, it *is* my car, but it¡¯s a different car¡­¡± ¡°Go, go! Clean up! I didn¡¯t rent out your room, even though I was *sorely tempted*, believe you me!¡± Her mother shooed her off. ¡°You can tell me all about your little adventure afterward.¡± Hoo boy. How, exactly, was she supposed to explain *anything* to her mom? El¡¯s life had taken a frighteningly bizarre trajectory a little over a year ago. First, she¡¯d found the road that wasn¡¯t real. Then she¡¯d started earning its magic, turning her life around bit by bit as she¡¯d found the motivation to claw her way into college, started doing art again, and stopped hanging out with the people who¡¯d mostly just been augmenting her misery. Her life had been¡­ not *great*, exactly? But she¡¯d had a job, and had two hobbies that actually mattered that her shitty job helped her prop up. Then James and Alanna had strolled into her life, scared the shit out of her by impersonating government agents, and set her on a nation spanning road trip to try to keep her family and sole remaining friend safe. The deep irony that she¡¯d landed on their doorstep three thousand miles of road away was not lost on her. But that had happened. And then, *then*, things got weird. Her road wasn¡¯t the only stupid scary weird place, full of monsters and treasures. They had their own, and they¡¯d¡­ just¡­. invited her in. Treated her like a long lost friend. *Apologized*. Eleanor had almost felt that same connection back at them, by the time she¡¯d left. But she had left. Because she¡¯d met their enemies. And killed their enemies, alongside them. And no matter what kind of glorious adventures they¡¯d shared before that, the smell of blood and gunpowder wasn¡¯t so easy to wash out. So she¡¯d left. She¡¯d taken the car she¡¯d picked up on the trip - sadly nonmagical - and the gifts they¡¯d given her as she¡¯d tried to sneak out, and El had made a beeline for home. And taken a few months to get here. Because, as it turned out, you didn¡¯t need dungeons and magic to have adventures. El stood in the shower, scalding hot water stripping away the sweat and dust and whatever the hell was in the slushy rain that was currently pouring down and pretending to be snow. It wasn¡¯t like she *hadn¡¯t showered* the whole time. But¡­ it was nice to have her own bathroom back. Not a motel, or somewhere she was staying after helping someone out. Home. A place to relax, and finally take stock of herself. Holy shit, she¡¯d gotten into so much trouble winding her way back. Not, like, life or death trouble. Not usually. Just¡­ meeting people. El had found herself feeling a lot more social than she ever was before, a lot more longing for even small bits of personal contact. So, when she rolled into a new small town, she¡­ talked to people. Gas station attendants, overnight clerks at motels, random people at coffee shops or parks. Just, you know, people. It had come easily to her; the old anxiety of talking to other humans was kind of dwarfed by the sort of live or die fights she¡¯d gotten into. But it turned out, people had problems. And while some of those problems seemed pretty banal to El¡­ Well, she was *there*, right? No harm in helping out. Sure, she could give someone a ride to the hospital. She could help you move while your abusive ex was at work. She could absolutely get your shitty boss in trouble. She could talk to anyone for you, if you needed a neutral voice, or listen, if you needed an indifferent ear. The retirement home was robbing its residents? Oh, that would not stand. You needed to make some kind of stupidly over the top romantic gesture to the guy you wanted to take to prom? Well that one would just be *fun*. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. By her reckoning, El had become the quirky side character in roughly fifty separate coming of age novels. She¡¯d gotten a lot of thankful nights on a couch, free meals, and two marriage proposals. But she had never stuck around. El got out of the shower, not bothering to hide how stiff her movements were here behind the doors of the bathroom. From the bag she¡¯d brought with her, she brought out fresh bandages to change the ones over her wounds. Okay, there had been a *few* more serious problems. But she¡¯d only been shot once! And the doctor had said the stitches would dissolve on their own as the wound healed, so that one was mostly okay as long as she kept it clean. It barely hurt anymore. It was the stab wound on her arm that really ached; that one had gotten a lot of dirt and gravel in it before she¡¯d gotten help. But at least the gash between her breasts was nothing more than angry pink scar tissue now. That one almost looked cool, if you were into scars. El¡­ *wasn¡¯t* into scars. Especially not *having* scars. But it did make her look kinda cool. She blamed James. Blaming James had become a hobby of hers, really. It was possible that it was going to replace ¡®going into highway hell¡¯ on her list of top tier hobbies. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was ever going to feel the drive - pun vaguely intended - to head back to that place again. But blaming James for the changes she¡¯d gone through? Oh, yeah, that had a certain *satisfaction* to it. She didn¡¯t *want* to be like him and his people. She didn¡¯t want to put others first, give altruistically, and be irritatingly optimistic all the fuckin time. She wanted to relax, not pay for her meals, and get back into spray paint as a medium. *And yet*. Here she was. Injured in a dozen ways from trying to do the right thing. Because, it turned out, it wasn¡¯t that fucking hard to do the right thing. But it was really hard to walk away, once you saw it. And once you knew how to ask, and where to look, there were a million little problems that needed to be solved. Fucking *James*. And Momo, too. Momo was the one who was really at fault here. If she¡¯d just not helped out the soaking wet, exhausted, mystery girl standing outside their secret clubhouse, then all of this moral questioning could have been avoided. El sighed, finished drying off, and got dressed. The worst part? The absolutely insufferable truth of all of this? She was fucking happy. And she knew it was their fault, too. El groaned to herself as she rifled through her old room, trying to find any of her sweatpants that had survived the last two years. Well. The easy part was over. She¡¯d made it home, she¡¯d improved as a person, and she had a second car. If her original car hadn¡¯t been stolen, she¡¯d be shocked, but if not, then her mom could have this one, and not need to worry about bus schedules anymore. Her room was easy to ransack, because despite being both an artist and an amateur mechanic, El loved keeping things clean. Organized, at least. Her pants were where they were supposed to be, just like her brushes, stack of spare canvases, and the semi-contained piles of a dozen different projects sitting on her desk. The whole place was still comfortably familiar. No matter how long she¡¯d been on the road, or staying in the dorm for college, this place still felt like home to her. It made it easy to unwind, to let her guard down, and to see how she actually felt inside. And she knew, of course, she *knew in her bones* that she¡¯d be getting back on the outside highway. Hell, she¡¯d probably even call up Momo and Spire-Cast-Behind and ask if they wanted to take a road trip with her. The less easy part, working through the trauma of taking part in an actual war, was still in progress. But¡­ now that she was home? El didn¡¯t feel like it was impossible to just call, and ask, anymore. Now, of course, the hard part. Explaining literally any of this to her mother. Who was currently cheerfully singing and burning something in the kitchen. Hell, even deciding how much to explain was a question she had to answer to herself. The Order was pretty clear that secrecy wasn¡¯t a mandate, but¡­ how did you even start to tell someone that you could do magic? That you had friends that weren¡¯t human? It was going to be a weird dinner. _____ It was a cold evening, the long nights of winter still bringing the sun down before anyone could really enjoy the sunset. Combined the almost abrupt descent into darkness, and the fact that it was a weekend, it meant there was almost no one out on the streets and sidewalks. Especially not in the area around here, where the closest thing to destinations were the Burgerville and the gas station down the block. This made it the perfect weather for taking a walk. Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn moved at a fairly leisurely pace. The human didn¡¯t really go on walks that often, usually his method of transportation was ¡®someone else¡¯s car¡¯ or ¡®running¡¯. Similarly, the camraconda didn¡¯t go on walks very often, because being an unknown nonhuman wandering the streets of a modern suburb just wasn¡¯t a great idea in general. So they were sort of feeling out their shared pace and route. They weren¡¯t really *going* anywhere, in particular. Just walking. Or slithering. Anywhere and nowhere. ¡®Around¡¯, as it were. They¡¯d both wanted to get out of the Lair for a while. As kind as everyone had been to him, Morgan still felt like an outsider. He basically lived there now, having permanently occupied one of the basement bedrooms. But it felt separate from him; not even like a hotel, but like a guest room, full of someone else¡¯s furniture and someone else¡¯s small touches. He could leave whenever he wanted, he wasn¡¯t a prisoner or anything, but he still had a lot of nervous energy about just hanging around the building, getting in people¡¯s way. Also, the camracondas. He still didn¡¯t know how to reconcile the feeling in his chest that they *expected* something of him, with the polite way they kept their distance when he asked. Sometimes, he just needed actual distance. On the other side of the sidewalk, Color-Of-Dawn had a lot of similar feelings, for different reasons. The Lair was as close to home as home could be. It *did* belong there, in a strange way. But that didn¡¯t stop them feeling like an outsider twice over. The other camracondas were trying to build their own culture. They had continued learning their style of art, their expressions of relationship and religion. But none of those things spoke to Color-Of-Dawn; especially not the faith they cultivated. So Color-Of-Dawn didn¡¯t fully belong with them, even though actual rejection never happened. And then there were the humans. They came in a riot of plumages and personalities, flitting from project to project with the energy of one of the great sheet swarms. Every one of them treated Color-Of-Dawn with kindness, compassion, and empathy. And yet, at the end of the day, it didn¡¯t feel as though any of them actually understood. Or perhaps it was Color-Of-Dawn that didn¡¯t understand. Either way, there was a barrier there. Participating in two cultures, and the third that formed where they met, but a true member of none of them. Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn were friends. Largely because they didn¡¯t have to say much to *get* where the other was coming from. Too much kindness made them nervous. Too much introspection did too. So they were out roaming the dark streets, blowing off some energy, and being alone together for a while. There was no rule that said that camracondas had to stay at the Lair. It was just that most were - perhaps correctly - nervous about going out. But with a human chaperone, it didn¡¯t feel so threatening out here. Which was how the two of them found themselves making their way through the rapidly cooling night, occasionally making small talk. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of trying to get James to let me do a podcast or something.¡± Morgan idly commented. ¡°Wanna help?¡± ¡°Where do you cast it to?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°The pods.¡± Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s reply was in the same mechanical tone all its words were. And yet, somehow, Morgan instinctively knew he was being messed with. Rolling his eyes, he replied past the dry joke. ¡°I¡¯m just bored. I figured we could just take the stuff that happens around here normally, and turn it into a story somehow? I dunno, I¡¯m not very creative. But I want to do something, and this could be fun.¡± The camraconda tilted in a questioning way. ¡°Is this not already? Sarah creates it.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen Sarah¡¯s thing. It¡¯s news.¡± Morgan said. ¡°I mean more¡­ fiction. Making stuff up, changing names. Just telling stories.¡± Color-Of-Dawn hummed in a low electric tone. ¡°Considering.¡± It said. That was all for that little exchange. They meandered on, falling quiet again. The thing was, they didn¡¯t actually have a lot in common. They ¡®got¡¯ each other, but didn¡¯t watch the same movies or read the same books. Didn¡¯t come from the same worlds. Literally. When they did talk, it was either light chats, or impossibly heavy discussions. Morgan had told Color-Of-Dawn about his mom. Color-Of-Dawn had talked about its own fears for the future. Then they¡¯d both been drafted into a pickup basketball game, and the next thing they¡¯d talked about had been Morgan furiously googling what eggs were to satisfy the camraconda¡¯s curiosity. It was an unusual foundation for a friendship. But it was strangely comfortable, and real. ¡°What this?¡± Color-Of-Dawn asked eventually, jerking its snout toward a piece of what looked like cardboard that was held in place off in the dirt by their walking path. ¡°Uh¡­ looks like a sign for a real estate thing.¡± Morgan glanced at it, and answered with a shrug. The camraconda nodded, before following up. ¡°Real estate?¡± ¡°Oh! Right. They¡¯re people who buy and sell property, to make a profit. Uh¡­ because to use a property, you have to own it, or get permission from whoever does. And the value of property changes sometimes? So they¡­ wait, maybe they also sell houses for other people? I¡¯m not actually sure.¡± He sighed. Talking to a camraconda was a surefire way to end up questioning what you thought was normal. ¡°Not important then.¡± Color-Of-Dawn decided, and they moved on. It was when they were moving single file down cracked concrete on an overgrown side street that Color-Of-Dawn spoke again, breaking their mutual quiet. ¡°Speaking with James today.¡± ¡°You were? Or you will be?¡± ¡°Have been.¡± Color-Of-Dawn clarified. Tenses were difficult to get down for someone who had lived a long time in a sort of timeless existence. ¡°Worries for you.¡± ¡°Me? Why?¡± Morgan kinda knew that was the case. But he hadn¡¯t had time to talk to James for a while. The dude was just busy all the time; hell, he couldn¡¯t even make time for a haircut. Color-Of-Dawn ducked under the thorny remnants of a raspberry bush, displaying the bizarre camraconda agility that let them glide along the ground in a lot of weird positions. ¡°Thinking you are ignoring your mom.¡± It said to Morgan. ¡°You denying by staying away.¡± ¡°He thinks I¡¯m in denial.¡± Morgan had meant the words to come out as a question. Halfway through, he¡¯d decided on angry remark instead. But by the end of the sentence, he was just resigned. Because¡­ well, why hadn¡¯t he gone to see his mom? To see her body, anyway. He didn¡¯t have a good reason. ¡°I¡­ I dunno.¡± He said instead of any of that. ¡°I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯m ready. I dunno when I¡¯ll ever be ready.¡± The words came out feeling small, like the weakest possible defense. ¡°Should speaking to someone.¡± Color-Of-Dawn suggested. ¡°What, like James?¡± Morgan snorted. ¡°He won¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°He has lost also.¡± The camraconda reminded him. ¡°But no. Lua. Marcy. Spire-Cast-Behind. Trained to hear.¡± ¡°The therapists? They¡¯re¡­ busy, though.¡± Morgan feebly countered. ¡°I can deal with this myself.¡± ¡°Oh? Do so.¡± His walking partner instantly challenged his words. Morgan¡¯s face flushed red as he sputtered for a response. Right. Camracondas didn¡¯t have anything like ¡®politeness¡¯ either; that or shame, really. And as soon as Morgan remembered that, the embarrassment lost a lot of its sting. If you want to be confronted with questions of what you think is normal¡­ At the end of the day, he knew the words weren¡¯t hostile. Color-Of-Dawn was the closest thing to a friend Morgan had. The challenge wasn¡¯t meant to damage his social standing - which didn¡¯t exist - or make him feel like an idiot - which he did anyway. It was meant exactly as it was said. Put your money where your mouth is. You say you can handle it. Why aren¡¯t you handling it? Either do it, or get help. Sometimes, it was infuriating. But sometimes? Having that little honest, well meaning push was exactly what a person needed. ¡°Okay.¡± Morgan said, stopping suddenly, fists clenched, nerves on a painful edge of disaster. ¡°Okay. But¡­ only if you come with me.¡± Color-Of-Dawn had cleared a third of the block before noticing that Morgan wasn¡¯t following. The camraconda twisted around to look back at the statement, eye widening in mild alarm. ¡°What.¡± ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go. Right now! It¡¯s not like there won¡¯t be someone there, right?¡± Morgan declared. ¡°But¡­ can you come with me?¡± That part came out quieter, with a worried desperation in his tone. ¡°Please?¡± ¡°I¡­ not¡­¡± It was strange; Morgan had never heard a camraconda lose their focus mid sentence before. And yet, here it was happening. ¡°Am not deserving¡­¡± Color-Of-Dawn trailed off, turning and starting to slither farther down the broken sidewalk. ¡°Oh fuck off.¡± Morgan called after the retreating serpent form. ¡°You¡­ you don¡¯t get to say that!¡± He yelled at the camraconda. ¡°We¡¯ve *talked* about her!¡± About his mom. Who was dead. ¡°She would have loved you! You¡¯re not ¡®undeserving¡¯ or whatever you think you are!¡± Morgan wasn¡¯t thinking about what he was saying. Just trying desperately to slap words onto his feelings and fire them off. ¡°You would not know!¡± Color-Of-Dawn retorted, turning finally and moving back toward Morgan, but still keeping distance. ¡°You do not decide!¡± ¡°Yes I do! She was *my* mom!¡± Morgan snapped back. ¡°Who else is supposed to decide?!¡± Color-Of-Dawn *hissed* at him. ¡°Our belief!¡± It declared. ¡°Our choice!¡± ¡°You don¡¯t believe in *her*!¡± Morgan reminded the snake. They were getting into a touchy ecclesiastical territory; but of every human in the Lair, Morgan was pretty sure he understood the camraconda¡¯s religion better than anyone else. ¡°You believe in *you*! And you don¡¯t get to just decide what she would¡­ would have wanted.¡± Morgan¡¯s shoulders slumped, his energy for the argument draining away rapidly. With a resigned motion, he dropped down to the pavement and settled in to sit on the curb. ¡°She was my mom for my whole life.¡± He quietly said, glancing over at Color-Of-Dawn, who was worriedly approaching in the street. ¡°Me too.¡± Color-Of-Dawn had turned its volume down, no longer ¡®shouting¡¯. ¡°Us, she made, too. Remember.¡± Morgan suddenly found himself *angry*. Really, actually, angry. The kind of irresponsible red burning when you knew you were on the edge of saying something you couldn¡¯t take back. ¡°Then why the fuck don¡¯t you just do what the rest of you do, and leave me alone like James asked?!¡± He demanded. Color-Of-Dawn recoiled slightly, aperture of its single eye narrowing into a point. ¡°Am not like them.¡± Its voice crackled static as it responded. ¡°Why not?!¡± Morgan yelled at his friend. ¡°*Because I killed her*!¡± The words came out as loud as the camraconda could make them, distortion playing around the edges of its synthesized voice. Morgan¡¯s eyes went wide. A split second later, he lunged forward off the curb, rough concrete scraping against cold flesh as he reached for Color-Of-Dawn with outstretched arms. He froze in midair, two feet away from the camraconda. Color-Of-Dawn stared at him, eye wide with fear. Morgan, unable to move, regarded the camraconda back. He wanted to feel hurt, wanted to feel his blood boil or his heart pound, but even that was on hold right now. He didn¡¯t know what he was feeling. And in these few seconds, he was given a golden opportunity to *think*. Then, Morgan watched as Color-Of-Dawn shuddered slightly. The camraconda¡¯s artificial muscles tensing up, as if to run or to strike or to move in some way. But before Morgan could actually worry about that, Color-Of-Dawn dipped its head. Eye closed, it broke contact, and let Morgan go, and just slumped forward to point its snout toward the ground. When Morgan was thirteen, his supposedly best friend had ruined one of his favorite comic books. It had been an accident, obviously, but Morgan had taken it hard. He¡¯d snapped, yelled, even tried to punch the other teen. They¡¯d never sat down and hashed out how their dynamic was changing, but it changed all the same, into silent resentment in the halls at school, and no more afternoons hanging out. Morgan¡¯s mom had noticed, despite working ten hour days. She¡¯d sat him down, and asked him if he thought he could do better than he had. Not questioning what knew what he did wrong, not an order to go apologize, just asking if he could do better. And by that point, of course, Morgan had run over what he *could* say a million times in his head. So of course he did. He¡¯d known the whole time, he¡¯d just been too angry or scared to approach his not-friend-anymore and say it. By the time he¡¯d worked up the courage to try, though, it was too late. His friend had changed schools, and they just never intersected again. He spent too long being mad, and then when he wasn¡¯t mad anymore, being embarrassed for making a stupid mistake. In the moment when he found himself locked in place, he remembered that stupid fight, and that stupider loss. Then Morgan crashed into the asphalt with both knees, feeling the rocky surface cut through his jeans. His arms were still out in front of him, hands extended in grasping claws. Color-Of-Dawn was right there within his reach. Unmoving, devoid of any kind of resistance or reaction. And almost without thinking about it, his arms reached out to wrap around the shuddering camraconda. Morgan pulled his friend into a hug. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± He said. ¡°But I did.¡± Color-Of-Dawn spoke at a volume that was almost inaudible. ¡°I did. I am¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Morgan whispered again, burying his face in the crook of the camraconda¡¯s coils. He remembered, vividly, painfully, something his mom always used to say. Something that he never really believed or understood how she could be so stupid as to think it. He remembered her telling it to him when they had to move, twice. When his parents both got fired. When his best friend moved. When his next best friend died. Every time he found himself crying in his room, his mom would find him, and tell him those words, like they were some kind of magic spell. And, as stupid as he thought they were¡­ Morgan knew now why she thought they were important. And he said them, now, to his friend. ¡°It¡¯ll be alright.¡± He whispered to the sobbing camraconda. ¡°We¡¯ll get through this.¡± And in that moment of forgiveness, and support, he felt his own strength. And he knew what his mom had seen, every time she¡¯d said it to him. It would be alright, together. Chapter 142 ¡°We¡¯re all the time confined to fit the mold. But I won¡¯t ever let them make, a loser of my soul.¡± - Metric, Synthetica - It was a matter of scale. James could understand the scope of the problem when it was just him, easily. He needed to pay rent, and eat. He existed inside systems that were orders of magnitude larger than himself, and nothing he could do as an individual was going to disrupt those. James could still see the whole puzzle in his head when it was him and his friends. Anesh, Alanna, JP and Dave, even with Rufus and Secret and any potential dogs in the mix. The world was still huge, and the objective was simple; be able to afford to live in society and sometimes buy a new TV. Struggle through work, thrive through the dungeon, make it to anime night and perfect his chili recipe. James started to have problems after becoming the de facto leader of fifty other humans. No individual part of the problem escaped him - he knew, for example, how much it cost to have one of the recovering survivors stay at a hotel for a month - it was just that in aggregate, he started to lose focus. Of those fifty people, for example, thirty nine of them were staying at hotels around the area, at first. The actual math was simple, cost times thirty nine. But the number was¡­ too big. It was a level of money he¡¯d never worked with before, never even pretended he¡¯d ever have access to before. James had absolutely lost track when they¡¯d actually begun hiring people. The survival instincts of modern society that had ingrained themselves in his head told him that the most money possible was roughly two thousand dollars a month. That was the absolute maximum, full stop. The thought of paying out almost double that to even the small handful of people who they¡¯d brought in scared him, even if the Order *did* have an income stream, and *could* afford it. Sort of. Mostly. He didn¡¯t have the full scope of their finances. James truly began to have a mental breakdown when they¡¯d started the Response program. Hired more people. Brought on *interns*. Set up a trust fund for the camracondas. Leased a building. Money was draining out like a waterfall, their finances were in freefall, and he was panicking. Never mind, of course, that they still had a buffer of government funding, that they were selling off rare resources harvested from the dungeon, that they averaged about one briefcase unlock a month, and that there were a dozen small plans to generate funding in play. It was all too *big*. They were sitting now on a stockpile of dungeontech that could probably allow them to pull off some truly ridiculous bullshit. Every week, dozens of new skills flowed from Officium Mundi into the minds of the knights of the Order, many of them inconsequential, but some of them passing on the expertise to make a real impact on some, admittedly esoteric, problems. The Order and its members spread their arms wide, inviting and accepting new people, and new magic, in equal measure. They finally had the power that James had yearned for. And he had no idea what to do with it. James was *one person*, looking at a planet that had seven billion people more or less like him on it, and wondering what he could do to help all of them. And the annoying thing was, while he could catch sight of a few cracks in the seemingly impenetrable wall of humanity, he didn¡¯t know how to turn them into handholds. Homelessness was a problem. There were enough homes, though. There was a solution, just waiting there. But it would require a massive organizational undertaking that James and his people weren¡¯t prepared for. Even with magic and dedicated virtual intelligences, it would take more than a hundred people to set that system up and keep it running, nevermind actually getting anyone to agree that it should be running in the first place. Hunger was a problem. There was enough food for everyone. There was the crack, but how to widen it into something they could latch onto and use to pull everyone up? Buy the excess food, maybe? They could teleport, they could maybe destroy modern logistics networks overnight. But what would they *do* with it? He could only see half the problem, and half the answer. Nations were a problem. They didn¡¯t have the best interests of their citizens in mind. They certainly didn¡¯t have the best interests of anyone else in mind. They also had nukes, usually. Or worse, propaganda. James didn¡¯t even see a crack on this one. So what he really needed was something that would let him truly understand the higher tiers of the power structure of society. Something - training, skill orb, magic potion, *something* - that would let him see the bigger picture, see where he was needed, and apply perfect pressure to the right spot to solve the problem. There was nothing like that in the option presented to him. ¡°Choose!¡± The baleful sharp thing screamed at him again. ¡°Students shall cease stalling!¡± It slammed a bladed scythe that had the markings of a perfect meter on it into the blackboard, hewing a line underneath the three options written there. James had finished his biology Lesson. The strange figure in this place was difficult to focus on. It was the shape of a person, but it was all teeth and malice. James knew he wouldn¡¯t remember a lot of this mental place when he left, just the choice he was offered, but he still couldn¡¯t help but try to see the thing for what it was. It was wearing a tweed jacket with padded elbows. It was also a starving hole in the world, consuming the desk it stood behind with an endless nightmarish maw. James looked back to the options. Endurance. Instinct. Toxicity. He was having trouble getting his head around his choices, too. But at least this time, the logic was all personal, and he could work through it given enough time. Which he actually had; as much as the monster that ruled this place screamed at him to hurry up, he really did seem to have all the time he needed to think. Toxicity was probably the first one ruled out, but it wasn¡¯t a snap decision. That one had gotten a double take out of him, he wouldn¡¯t lie. And it wasn¡¯t like it didn¡¯t have some perks. The number of things that had bitten him in the last year made it kind of appealing. But, toxic didn¡¯t specifically mean poisonous; it might just make him the kind of shithead that made transphobic comments on Reddit. And he would have thought that as a joke, if they didn¡¯t know that Lessons *could* cause personality changes. And even if it did make his physical body more dangerous, James actually had at least one person he kissed. Regularly. And he would like to keep doing so. Instinct was the second choice, and it was probably also on the chopping block. Instinct could mean a lot of things, and James wished he had access to whatever version of Wikipedia the Akashic Sewer was using to reference. This one *could*, in theory, help him react faster, make choices in combat without conscious decision making, and take advantage of openings and weak spots in his enemies. It could *also* do¡­ well, all of those things in a darker way. James still remembered how Anesh had been made very uncomfortable with the orb that gave him knowledge of weak points on other humans. Just knowing that it would be so much easier to kill someone unsuspecting was a creepy thing to live with. And James already had enough nightmares about killing people without them being anatomically correct. So that left Endurance. It felt weird to be picking what was probably the least interesting option, and also to make a choice by eliminating problems first instead of primarily looking for a solution. It went against his actual gamer instincts to make interesting choices even if they were suboptimal. But Endurance would, undoubtedly, be useful. And probably useful all the time, not just when he was in a fight to the death or actively being chewed on. It just didn¡¯t do a damn thing to help with wrapping his head around the bigger picture. ¡°Endurance.¡± James said, mildly regretful that he hadn¡¯t said Instinct, no matter how little he trusted that skill. The thing sighed, a noise like several metal chairs being scraped across the floor. James smirked a little at the obvious relief the overtly hostile monster was feeling. And then, the thing flicked a bladed hand, and the filthy classroom pivoted around James, walls sliding until he found his desk sitting just outside the classroom¡¯s door. Then the door slammed shut, and James woke up. _____ ¡°This the last thing we need right now.¡± James sighed, resisting the urge to slam his forehead into the kitchen¡¯s stainless steel counter. Despite being nominally ¡®in charge¡¯, Nate still had the power to make him clean everything, and James didn¡¯t want to invite that ire. Especially not when the gruff man was in an especially bad mood. ¡°Yeah, well, you get what you get when you get it.¡± Nate replied. ¡°I¡¯m not on your timetable.¡± ¡°I swear to you, we do not have a timetable.¡± James said, holding up one hand in a solemn oath. ¡°But yeah, we do have a lot of projects whirling up to full speed. Response, the arcology thing, especially as we start doing more with orange orbs, the infomorph creation thing¡­ yeah, it¡¯s a bad time. Okay, so, the Old Gun is operating out of Texas, huh? That¡­ I mean, okay, I know, the name I gave her is kind of a placeholder, but that fits I guess?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know she¡¯s based there.¡± Nate said, sliding a sheet tray of potatoes into the oven with a little too much force. ¡°Just that she was there. One of our rogues is tailing the person the Old Gun was meeting with, but we-¡° ¡°Hold up.¡± James cut him off. ¡°One of your what now?¡± Nate crossed his tattooed arms, relaxing without leaning on anything, and glared at James. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you don¡¯t like it. Besides, it was JP¡¯s name. I don¡¯t care, as long as it¡¯s consistent.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James hid a grin. ¡°Carry on.¡± ¡°Myles is tailing the contact. And the Old Gun either couldn¡¯t, or didn¡¯t, notice us telepad out. If she knows about the Lair, then it¡¯s not because we didn¡¯t take precautions, it¡¯s just because she really is beyond our capabilities.¡± Nate didn¡¯t look happy admitting that. ¡°So?¡± He asked, eventually. ¡°So what?¡± ¡°So what do we do?¡± James blinked at the ex-agent. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know why you¡¯re asking me that?¡± He said. ¡°Nate, I¡¯ve got no fucking idea what the Old Gun is, what she wants, what she can do, or what we¡¯re supposed to do about her. I honestly hoped that we could start off with something simple, like overthrowing the government and taking over the world, and then move onto killing the mad godling.¡± The kitchen door swung shut with a thump, and both men looked up to see a disappointedly frowning agent DeKay standing in the doorway. ¡°Is this a bad time?¡± She asked. ¡°Nah, fuck it.¡± James sighed. ¡°Come on in. We¡¯re plotting the downfall of America.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡± Nate flatly corrected. ¡°He¡¯s plotting. I¡¯m cooking.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± DeKay said with a total lack of interest, pulling her hair back into a ponytail with practiced motions as she walked into the kitchen space. ¡°I¡¯ve been asked by my bosses to request your organization¡¯s assistance with a missing persons case. Would you be willing to cooperate on that?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± James said, at the same time that Nate said. ¡°No.¡± James glanced over at the person who would actually be doing most of the cooperation. ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ no, I guess?¡± He rolled his eyes. ¡°Alright, why no? I don¡¯t care about the secrecy thing Nate, just tell me what¡¯s up.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t trust me.¡± DeKay said. ¡°JP doesn¡¯t either. But JP is also awful, so I¡¯m asking you instead.¡± ¡°She works for people who have a vested interest in suppressing and silencing you and your goals.¡± Nate told James, talking like DeKay wasn¡¯t in the room. ¡°She isn¡¯t your friend, and she absolutely isn¡¯t your ally. The only thing she has to offer is ¡®not actively taking away your rights¡¯. Cooperation is a bad idea.¡± James briefly considered pointing out that Nate was *also* originally from the FBI, and that maybe people were more capable of change than he thought. But then, Nate had always been a generally good guy. He¡¯d just pivoted to where he thought he could do more good when offered the chance; he hadn¡¯t really changed at all. So instead, James turned to DeKay. ¡°Your counterpoint to being, as the kids say, ¡®called out¡¯?¡± He spread his arms in invitation. ¡°A librarian recently found records of people that no one remembers existing, including people mentioned in the records. This sounds like your kind of bullshit, we just want help finding the people. The bureau is willing to offer you full ownership of any ¡®dungeon¡¯ you uncover, if that¡¯s the case, as well as your standard consulting fee. You will not be required to participate in any activity that violates your stated ethics, and I will be the AiC with final say on any arrests. With that in mind, it is within my authority to defer to your judgement if I so choose, and I would, if you agree to help.¡± The words were rattled off more mechanically than a camraconda, like the agent had a script scrolling across her vision to read from. ¡°Nate? Counterpoint? That sounds pretty good, honestly. Wait, what *is* our standard consulting fee?¡± ¡°A lot.¡± Nate conceded. ¡°Extortionist.¡± DeKay confirmed. ¡°I really like how that sounds.¡± James admitted. The Order¡¯s money problems going away for a few months was not a small thing. ¡°Alright. She seems to have gone out of her way to make this sound good to us. So I¡¯m gonna say yes, and I¡¯m gonna politely ask you to take care of this, because JP would make it worse somehow.¡± ¡°He would.¡± Nate agreed with a slight scowl. ¡°Alright, fine. I¡¯ll task two rogues to it. Give them advice and training as part of the payment. If you need more help, I¡¯ll stay on call to warp on site when needed.¡± ¡°Sounds fair to me.¡± Agent DeKay nodded. Nate grunted. ¡°It¡¯s not about whether it¡¯s fair. It¡¯s about getting as much out of you as we can.¡± ¡°It is also kind of about being fair.¡± James stage whispered to the blonde agent. ¡°But seriously, we¡¯ll help. People missing is¡­ yeah. It¡¯s not okay. I¡¯m more than comfortable helping, and I appreciate you taking steps to ask nicely.¡± The federal agent nodded back at him, and they briefly shook hands to settle the agreement. She left the kitchen, and James shook his head with an amused smirk as he noticed the barely manifested spectral hands of the infomorph paired with her, reaching out and snagging cookies and scones out of the breakfast bar. ¡°Hey, three questions for you.¡± James said to Nate as soon as the agent was gone. ¡°Sure. Also I¡¯m okay with helping, I just want her to know where she stands. And it sets me up as a solid ¡®bad cop¡¯. I¡¯m fine doing search and rescue.¡± Nate sighed as the oven buzzed and he started pulling out thirty percent of the lunch orders that would be rolling in soon. ¡°What questions?¡± ¡°Two are definitions. What¡¯s a librarian, in spy-speak? Also, AiC?¡± ¡°An archivist, basically. Someone who maintains the hard copy records. Most intelligence agencies are a little nervous about the internet, for some reason.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t imagine why, mister ¡®I am building a panopticon¡¯. Stop working on that, by the way. I know no one has said this, but it¡¯s a bad idea, and stop.¡± Nate grunted in mild acknowledgment. ¡°We¡¯re not really building a panopticon. Just hijacking the one that¡¯s already there.¡± ¡°That¡¯s so much worse.¡± ¡°Anyway. The other one is just agent-in-charge. Whoever is assigned to a case that has the final word on decisions.¡± Nate sighed. ¡°She¡¯s not wrong, she would get to ignore the law in favor of whatever we decided, if she wanted. Have to write a report afterward, but here? For this? She¡¯d get away with it.¡± That entire package deal made James feel pretty uncomfortable. ¡°Scary.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t think¡­ hm. Yeah, no. If you have to come up with personal exceptions to the laws, those probably aren¡¯t great laws. But then, I dunno how I¡¯d do a better legal system, so maybe I should shut up for now.¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± Nate half-agreed, scraping potato wedges into a hotwell. ¡°Alright. Servers are gonna be here soon for lunch. You got anything else before I do this, then go work on a plan to kill god?¡± ¡°*A* god. God-ish. Look, it¡¯s not¡­ oh, whatever. Wait, yes!¡± James snapped his fingers. ¡°How many fucking spies in training do you and JP have, anyway? You said you¡¯d task *two* to DeKay, and you¡¯ve got one other one in Texas? Is this¡­ is this gonna make payroll worse? We¡¯re already in trouble.¡± ¡°No you aren¡¯t, because we rent out our spies at stupidly high rates.¡± Nate reminded him. ¡°Also we have seven. It¡¯s a work in progress.¡± ¡°Fuck, you guys need to tell me about this stuff.¡± James rubbed at his temples. ¡°Anyway. Can I get a burger, well done, no pickles? I haven¡¯t eaten today.¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Go sit down like a normal guest.¡± Nate ordered, pointing his spatula at the door like a baton as he slapped a patty down onto the grill and the smell of sizzling beef began to fill the air. ¡°Fucking kid.¡± The chef muttered as James laughed his way out of the kitchen. ¡°I¡¯m gonna quit one of these days, and then he won¡¯t have a good spy *or* a good chef.¡± _____ James actually did sit and eat lunch like a normal person, instead of just inhaling a burger and larking off to fix whatever new disaster had come up. Or trying to find a few moments of quiet in a dark room somewhere. He was joined by two of the trade contractors that had joined the Order recently. Their names were Bill and Mark, and perhaps in defiance of the generic monikers they¡¯d been given, they had surprisingly exciting lives before coming here. ¡°Yah, I spent, oh, six years on a salmon boat before this? In between doing renovations in the off season.¡± Bill took a swig of his beer, and cracked a grin. ¡°Alaska is beautiful, and salmon boats honk. So does salmon! You will never get me to eat fish!¡± He declared. ¡°I have smelled enough fish for a lifetime. Love fishing though.¡± Mark hadn¡¯t been taking quite the same bombastic approach to things, but his resume wasn¡¯t any less fun to hear about. ¡°I think the weirdest place I ever wired up was a coal mine.¡± He told them as the conversation drifted. ¡°Dark, cramped, and you gotta make sure there¡¯s zero chance that anyone accidentally rips a cord down that turns off an air vent and kills everyone. No fun, no fun! I moved out here after that, got into a company that does the electrical for all the state¡¯s school districts. No one dies if I mess that up. And now this, obviously.¡± ¡°Yeah, what is this, anyway?¡± Bill finally asked the question both of them were thinking but hadn¡¯t put to words yet. ¡°What do you need a couple¡¯a old guys like us for anyway?¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Mark protested. ¡°I know we¡¯re older than most everyone in this place, but you don¡¯t gotta just, just say it, man.¡± James gestured with a fry before popping it into his mouth. ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation, at some point we¡¯ll probably be able to help you live a lot longer.¡± Both other men froze, briefly, before sharing a look and then focusing back on James. ¡°How much longer?¡± Mark asked. ¡°Good question.¡± James replied. ¡°I¡¯ll get back to you. Anyway, why you? You¡¯ve got tons of experience building things, people like you, you didn¡¯t tell racist jokes during the interview-¡° ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°-seriously, a few people tried. And we want to build something. Something big. We want a city in a bubble, basically.¡± Bill fielded that one. ¡°I can follow a blueprint. I can boss around a bunch of guys with hammers. I can lay some mean roofing tile. But, uh¡­¡± He didn¡¯t have anything after that, just let the uncertain grunt stretch until he ran out of breath. ¡°Oh, we¡¯ve got some magic bullshit in the works.¡± James ¡®reassured¡¯ him. ¡°But like you said, you¡¯re gonna need some goons with hammers. And before we hire more people, we want to make sure everyone new gets into the flow of our culture here. And sees at least one dungeon.¡± ¡°Like the attic?¡± Mark asked. ¡°I¡¯ve seen that place. It hurt my head. It¡¯s also a massive fire hazard.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not actually sure that dungeons would burn normally.¡± James again failed to reassure anyone. He took another bite of his sandwich, leaving a piece of lettuce poking out of the corner of his mouth. ¡°But yeah. You¡¯re here to help us spot problems we don¡¯t have experience with, solve those problems, and when we start scaling up, guide other new people into doing the same.¡± ¡°And live forever.¡± Bill looked forlornly at the empty beer can in his hand. ¡°Is it too early to get really drunk? I think I need to be really drunk for this.¡± ¡°Well not *forever*.¡± James said. ¡°Just for as long - oh, thanks Frequency.¡± He nodded politely at the camraconda as she slid past their table, plucking away empty plates and cups. ¡°Just as long as¡­ as long¡­¡± James trailed off, flicking his gaze sideways in a narrow-eyed glance. ¡°Sorry, did anyone else see that?¡± He asked the two men sitting with him. ¡°What, the snake?¡± Mark glanced over his shoulder. ¡°Yeah. How do you keep track of their names, anyway?¡± ¡°They have color patterns, and I have a memory upgrade.¡± James said. ¡°I meant that she grabbed our dishes.¡± ¡°Yeah? Is that¡­ is that not normal?¡± Bill looked worried. ¡°This place is freaky, man! I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to be worried about!¡± ¡°Frequency!¡± James called after the camraconda, who turned, bracing two trays of dishes she¡¯d collected from around the busy dining room on a series of jointed metal struts that were coming out from behind her back. ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± ¡°Cleaning!¡± The camraconda called back. ¡°No¡­¡± James pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Where did you get *arms* from?¡± He asked more directly. ¡°Not that they aren¡¯t cool, but when did this even happen?¡± ¡°Recently. I am testing.¡± The camraconda bobbed at him in a friendly gesture, and promptly lost control of one of the trays she was holding, practically throwing a half dozen plates onto the tile floor in front of the kitchen¡¯s doors. The camraconda glared at them, actually managing to catch the last one as the tray overbalanced and freezing it in place, but a couple of the dishes shattered to pieces on impact. ¡°Testing. Ongoing.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight sounded disappointed. James sighed. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m gonna go sweep that up. If you¡¯ve got more questions, well, someone¡¯s always around. I¡¯d check in with Research, honestly. You two could be really helpful with the orange totem experiments.¡± ¡°The¡­ what?¡± Bill asked, unamused. But James was already out of earshot, hurrying off through the growing crowd in the dining room to help a magical machine snake clean up the mess her new limbs had made. He glanced over at Mark, the one person here who he felt like he had a similar understanding of the world with. They hadn¡¯t been friends before, but shared background, and shared exasperations, had made them drinking buddies pretty quickly. ¡°I dunno if I can deal with this place sometimes.¡± He admitted. ¡°It doesn¡¯t smell like fish, at least.¡± Mark shrugged. ¡°Also¡­¡± He gave an embarrassed grin, ¡°isn¡¯t it just kinda cool? When my kid gets home from college, he¡¯s gonna love this shit.¡± ¡°Aw, yeah, it is.¡± Bill sighed. ¡°I dunno if I should tell my wife about what I do now. Is this even a job? I haven¡¯t been yelled at to work faster once in the last week.¡± ¡°Fuck, man. Tell her! Invite her to see the place! They don¡¯t care!¡± Mark countered. ¡°Also, maybe we should find something to work on, just so we, you know¡­¡± ¡°Make ourselves useful?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± The two of them leaned back in their seats, watching the dining area for any ideas. A duo of a human and a camraconda were emerging from the Response office, grinning at a successful deployment as they pulled off armor plate. An older gentleman sitting at a table in the corner made notes into a journal, occasionally flipping the page to glance at a worn photograph he kept in it. A group of high schoolers helped serve the rotating crowd lunch. A packed table full of Research and support group members cheered as two of their number raced drones down the hall through their skulljack links, clumsily learning the skill and eliciting a yelp about every five minutes from someone caught off guard. Several other people sat in companionable silence, having mutually agreed their table was for reading, as they all either worked to catch up on the Order¡¯s documentation, or their own literary backlog. Mark and Bill traded a look. ¡°Wanna go see if the kids in the basement need anything heavy moved?¡± ¡°Thank Christ I wasn¡¯t the only one thinking that. Yeah. Let me just bug Nate for another beer first.¡± ¡°Get me one too.¡± _____ Battalion chief Herman Harrison was having a fairly normal day, all things considered. The round faced man, past his own prime but still stronger than most everyone he met just by virtue of a life of activity, had basically gotten his daily routine down to a science. Mornings were checkin with one of his crews. Followed by paperwork, followed by scheduled disciplinary actions if any needed to happen, followed by lunch. He had an office at the largest station house in his battalion¡¯s territory, but he could work anywhere. Firefighters had to pick that skill up. After lunch was scheduling, then drills, then equipment tests. Then he¡¯d go home, and say a small prayer to whoever was listening that everything stayed standing while he was gone. Any or all of this could be interrupted by an emergency. Most emergencies, he wasn¡¯t needed for anymore. But he¡¯d spent twenty two years at this job, and the bell was the bell was the bell. And sometimes, he *was* needed; when it was something really bad, really big, that took on site coordination. Herman had no illusion that he was going to end up as fire chief one day. He didn¡¯t particularly want the job; it sounded like his job, but with more paperwork, and less running. And he did still love a good jog, if only to offset the damage from the good chili they had every Friday. But he was *good* at his job, dammit. No matter how many budget cuts or policy changes he had to live through. Today, he opened the door to his office to see someone sitting in one of the visitors chairs, typically reserved for his son, when they ate lunch together, or his delinquent probies, when they needed a good talking to. ¡°How the hell did you get in my station.¡± Herman walked past the lanky kid, dropping the paper bag with his sandwich in it onto his desk before taking his own seat and loosening his shirt collar. ¡°Magic.¡± James replied. ¡°Uh huh.¡± Harrison rolled his eyes internally. And a little externally. ¡°Alright kid. Most people make an appointment, but we¡¯re not doing that right now. Are you state?¡± ¡°No idea what that is, so probably not.¡± ¡°Fed, then?¡± ¡°Oh, hah. Hell no.¡± James grinned. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna get it by process of elimination.¡± Harrison rolled his eyes again. Bad habit, he needed to stop. He knew it made him look stupid, but it was an old reflex he¡¯d stolen from his wife. ¡°Alright.¡± He unwrapped his lunch, pulling back the paper to reveal a hot meatball sub. ¡°You¡¯ve got until I finish this to make whatever sales pitch it is today.¡± He said, taking a massive bite of his sandwich. Internally, James had a lot of questions. First of them was a curiosity as to how often this guy had people break into his office that he was this casual about it. The door had been locked! Also, James was a little concerned at how fast the man was destroying his food. The garbage disposal in the Lair¡¯s dish pit wasn¡¯t that efficient. Externally, he got to the point, before the aging firefighter choked to death on pepperoni. ¡°I¡­ Jesus, okay, the fast version. I¡¯d like to offer you help with search and rescue operations, from people who can teleport.¡± ¡°*Hurk*¡± Was the noise that Harrison made. Or something like it, anyway. He dropped his sandwich to the desk as he coughed a couple times, took a long pull from his bottle of water, gasped for air, and then met James eye, leaning forward onto a thickly muscled arm. ¡°Hah!¡± He opened with a bark of a laugh. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s cute. Seriously, kid, what¡¯re you here for?¡± ¡°James, please. And I¡¯m here to offer you what I said.¡± James adjusted his own shirt collar; he¡¯d even dressed kinda nice for this. ¡°We have the ability to teleport, and we¡¯re interested in operating as crisis intervention in the area. Ideally, we¡¯d like to partner with you and your people, supporting your crews whenever we can using the¡­ well, the magical bullshit¡­ that we have access to.¡± ¡°Alright, now you¡¯re wasting my precious lunch time.¡± Herman pointed a thick, scarred finger at the kid who¡¯d snuck into his station just for a joke. ¡°April first is almost two months off. And I¡¯m not laughing anyway. You had your fun, now get out.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James sighed. ¡°Well, here¡¯s a number you can reach me at.¡± He set a small card on the desk. ¡°I understand that it¡¯s hard to take at face value, but next time, maybe just ask for a demonstration.¡± He said, shaking his head as he pulled a telepad out of his coat pocket, tore a page off, and vanished out of the office. For the next two minutes, Herman stared at the empty chair. Then he got up, stalked over to his door, and popped it open suddenly, rattling the blinds as he stuck his head out into the hallway and looked back and forth. Nothing. He went back to his seat, picked up the phone, and dialed. His meatball sub was left cooling and forgotten. ¡°Y¡¯ello.¡± The smug voice on the other end answered. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± Herman asked, bluntly. ¡°No catch.¡± James told him. ¡°We want to help. Working with you helps us help. Though, some training for our team members wouldn¡¯t be a bad thing. Maybe we can use you on a resume or two as a character reference.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t want a bribe or something? No¡­ blood sacrifices or anything? Not setting me up to take the fall for some conspiracy?¡± ¡°So far we haven¡¯t found¡­ oh, well, I guess we *found* a thing that ate blood. But we blew that up.¡± James ¡®reassured¡¯ the battalion chief. ¡°And I don¡¯t need a bribe, I own a gold mine. No, seriously. No catch. Just conditions.¡± ¡°Hit me.¡± ¡°Some of our members are nonhuman. If you agree to work with us, you agree to go to bat for them when the time comes.¡± James stated. ¡°Done.¡± Herman agreed. ¡°Our help isn¡¯t a replacement for anything. We might not always be available, so you don¡¯t get to rely on us. We¡¯re extra support, not a budget replacement.¡± ¡°Kid, don¡¯t talk to me about budgets.¡± ¡°Ugh, fuck, I know, right?¡± James replied. In this, the two of them were perfectly on the same page. ¡°Anything else?¡± Herman asked. ¡°Not off the top of my head.¡± James told him. ¡°Sound good?¡± ¡°Can you teleport an engine?¡± The part of Harrison¡¯s brain that made him a good chief, that optimized crew logistics and found solutions to shortfalls, kicked in. ¡°How about in or out of structure fires? Or just taking people with you?¡± ¡°We can take people with us. Getting into a fire is hard, getting out is easy. Moving a truck¡­ I¡¯ll call you back later on that.¡± James told him. Harrison didn¡¯t have to think long on it. ¡°I¡¯m in.¡± He snapped off the answer. ¡°When¡­¡± ¡°Someone who¡¯s smarter than me will make a real appointment with you later this week.¡± The smile James was wearing was audible over the phone. ¡°And¡­ thanks.¡± He told the firefighter, before hanging up. He meant it, too. The Response division was rapidly becoming more than even his own rather ambitious vision had seen it as. Forty six humans dedicated time to it¡¯s operations, with about a third of those being full time in some way. Twenty two camracondas added to the mix, the majority of their people finding satisfaction in assisting. They had arrangements with three hospitals, and now one chunk of fire department. People were starting to *notice* them. They needed more friends, and this was how they made them. They also needed more expert skills, and this was a good way to pick them up and spread them through the Order¡¯s membership. They were backing off on spreading knowledge of their presence in the Portland area. For now. They were following a good suggestion from Harvey, and pivoting to Ohio. And maybe this would be where they sorted out how they were going to set up branch offices, too. James sighed with contentment as he leaned back into his chair, letting the arm holding this particular burner phone droop limply to the side. He was already tired, and even though it was a good tired, he still had to take care of ¡®meetings¡¯ with two more fire and rescue people, a CEO of an ambulance company, and four small hospital administrators. Then, and only then, would he get to take a nap. Assuming nothing exploded. Or he didn¡¯t get sidetracked asking questions about the camraconda arm setup that one of the new engineers had cobbled together. _____ ¡°Hello? Is anyone there?¡± Momo stared at the words, worrying at her lower lip as she considered kicking open the door to the small basement room she¡¯d set up in, and screaming into the hallway until someone either told her everything was fine, or someone told her everything was absolutely not fine but they could fix the problem. The problem was, her setup was¡­ well, ¡®working¡¯ wasn¡¯t perhaps the most accurate word. ¡®Setup¡¯ wasn¡¯t a great descriptor either. Momo had built, mostly out of parts salvaged from Officium Mundi, a network of computers. Then, feeling ambitious, she¡¯d started using the emerald chips they had to grow programs that could read the output of the red orb totems that she¡¯d gradually been learning to build and fine tune. Worth noting that the ones she couldn¡¯t fine tune made pretty good weapons; equivalent to memetic flashbangs, really. The chips had been useful, and had worked, too, which was a little worrying. But Momo wasn¡¯t here for philosophy, she was here for *results*! So she¡¯d asked for some help, learned some programming both through magic and wisdom coffee and also sort of the normal way, and started to build a database that could interpret the red totem signals, collate the data, and compare it against recorded statistics from the internet. Then, it looked for deviations, and reported on the glaringly obvious ones. It kiiiind of worked. It didn¡¯t really accomplish anything, though. So Momo, refusing to surrender, doubled down. She already wasn¡¯t really sleeping anymore anyway, so she had plenty of free time. Free time in which to build more data matrices, generating plenty of bugs to feed the shellaxies with, while she waited for the new round of chips to grow more programs that could connect the other programs. While she was at it, she also got some of the members of Research to help her make inputs for audio and visual stuff. Since they were already compromising the security of all the traffic cams in the state, may as well make use of that. She¡¯d set up some webcams around the Lair, too, to test it out. A couple days ago, she¡¯d had a good feeling about the growth of her chips. So, just before the weekly foray into Officium Mundi, Momo had plugged the programs in, distributed them to the machines they needed to be on, made sure the network settings ¡®worked¡¯, and turned it all on. Then she¡¯d run out to get into fights with paper pushers, and forgotten about it. Her brain, flush with relief at actually hitting a milestone in her project, had just relaxed to the point that she couldn¡¯t, and wouldn¡¯t, think about the whole thing for a few days. And now, she returned to a monitor with a blinking message on it. ¡°Is anyone there?¡± Momo looked around the room that she¡¯d redecorated with cables, computer screens and lava lamps. Most of the monitors were off, but the one in the middle of the room was glowing in the colorful light of her workspace. A simple white-on-black line of text displayed on it. ¡°Reed?¡± Momo called out into the room that contained no people but herself. ¡°Nik? Is this a prank?¡± She glanced back at the closed door to the hallway. ¡°If this is a prank, I¡¯m gonna rig your chair to detonate chocolate pudding into your ass next time you sit down.¡± ¡°Hello?!¡± The monitor changed words, fans in the many computer towers on and under the desk beginning to hum a hair louder than before. ¡°Hello?¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± Momo muttered under her breath. ¡°Can you hear me?¡± She asked. Nothing. Of course not, she hadn¡¯t put a microphone anywhere in here. ¡°Can you read this?¡± She typed onto the keyboard. But there was no response to that either. Finally, fumbling through loose cords and tools on her workstation, she found a pad of paper that wouldn¡¯t teleport her anywhere when used. Uncapping a sharpie, she scrawled large words on it, and then held it up to the webcam sitting on top of the central screen. If this *was* a prank, this was a good way to dispel it. ¡°Can you see me?¡± She wrote. The text on the screen vanished. And then, a second later, replaced itself. ¡°Yes. Yes. Yes. Hello. Who are you? Who am I? What is happening? Hello? Are you there?¡± ¡°Uh ooohhhh.¡± Momo breathed out. ¡°I have made a mistake. And an AI. Good. Good good good. This is¡­ great. Oh god, James is gonna be *dad disappointed* in me, isn¡¯t he?¡± But then, maybe not. And weirdly, the Order actually had a *protocol* for this. Momo took a second to pull up the relevant part of the operations manual on her phone, and checked it to make sure she wasn¡¯t doing anything awful. Through some experience, and a lot of foresight, they had an actual outline for how to handle making a new life. And, as near as Momo could tell, this counted. There was a very, *very* long ongoing discussion in one of the Order¡¯s chat channels about what defined a person, but the thing she was talking to had shown it could take input, ask questions, and appeared to feel, even if the only feeling it had shown so far was anxiety, and that might just be Momo projecting. That was close enough to a person. So. Ethical considerations first. Momo was going to need to stop trying to build a magical spy satellite, if the magical spy satellite was thinking and living. She had made the new digital creature, so she had a responsibility to it. That meant caring for it, helping it grow and live in a way that it found fulfilling. Treat it like a child, with all the ups and downs that entailed. Momo tore off the page she was writing on and composed a new note. ¡°I¡¯m Momo. I don¡¯t know who you are yet. You¡¯re new! Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m here for you.¡± She had to write it on two pieces of paper. A brief pause. And then, the words changed again. ¡°Is this you?¡± It asked, along with a still image of Momo from the webcam. ¡°Yes.¡± Momo wrote back. ¡°What am I?¡± The screen asked her. Momo thought about how to answer that. And then, to be polite, she wrote a question. ¡°May I move one of your eyes?¡± She asked it. ¡°Yes.¡± It replied. Followed by a replacement to the question of ¡°What am I?¡± Plucking the webcam off the top of the computer, Momo shifted the cord to the most length she could get out of the hardware, and turned it around, panning the camera across the construction of hard and software that she¡¯d accidentally grown something alive in. ¡°I am this.¡± It stated, showing a repeat of several frames of the footage of its body. ¡°Am I also this?¡± It showed a picture from another part of the Lair, from one of the other connected webcams, a frame of another computer. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Momo wrote to it. ¡°Are you this?¡± It showed her a frame of James walking through the front door. ¡°No.¡± She wrote, setting that page aside for when she needed the simple word. ¡°Minds live in bodies. Different bodies, different minds.¡± Momo told the AI. Back and forth they went. The computer would ask a question, or, more likely, several questions at once, and Momo would do her best to answer. She tried to get the creation to ¡®hear¡¯ her when she typed on the keyboard, but it couldn¡¯t find the input from it, so she stuck to showing notes to the webcam for now. It wanted to know how bodies worked, how minds worked, why it was different from other bodies, where they were, what Momo was thinking, what ¡®lunch¡¯ was. It wanted to know everything. It was like all the questions a curious child accumulated over their life, all at once. Eventually, it got into questions that Momo just didn¡¯t have a good way to answer, much less enough paper to try. What was life? Why was it asking questions? How did it know things? What should it do now? What was its name? It would like a name. Momo, eventually, on the cardboard back of her now-empty notepad, informed the AI that she needed to go get more paper. And also tell some of the others about this. And, reassuringly, it didn¡¯t try to keep itself secret or stop her leaving. It seemed *impatient*, but not angry or conspiratorial. So Momo had given the webcam a small bow, and opened the door to her workroom to sneak upstairs and hopefully bully Nate into serving her a late lunch. And also find a ream of printer paper to work with. Coming off the elevator, she ran into James chatting with Sarah, halfway through taking a bag of ceramic shards out to the dumpster. ¡°Ah! Boss!¡± She called out to him. ¡°Is there any chance I can get people to stop calling me that?¡± James asked with a slow smile as he tilted his head at Momo. ¡°Nope!¡± Sarah informed him. ¡°What¡¯s shakin¡¯, basement witch?¡± She asked Momo with trademark enthusiasm. ¡°Uh¡­ I¡­ don¡¯t wanna interrupt your conversation. I¡¯m just getting¡­ some stuff.¡± Momo suddenly realized she felt *very* uncomfortable sharing what was going on. Not in a shameful way, just¡­ well, maybe exactly that. She didn¡¯t want to say anything in front of everybody. Just in case. ¡°Can I maybe talk to you later, when you¡¯re done here?¡± She asked James. ¡°First off, our conversation here is Sarah complaint about words¡­¡± Sarah threw her arms into the air. ¡°Shorts mean short! We should call full length pants ¡®longs¡¯! It just makes sense!¡± ¡°...And naturally, capris would be ¡®mediums¡¯? Don¡¯t answer that.¡± James shook his head, shifting the garbage bag to his other hand. ¡°Anyway. I won¡¯t be around later. Anesh and I have a date tonight.¡± He told Momo. ¡°So if you need anything, you¡¯ve got until I pitch this into the bin to get to me.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Momo waggled her eyebrows at him. ¡°Gonna have some romantic skulljack fun, eh?¡± She suggestively asked, leaning into elbow at his side. James gave her a nonplussed look. ¡°No, we¡¯re gonna have sex.¡± He said, and seized control of the conversation. Next to him, Sarah burst into laughter as Momo choked on her own friendly ribbing and turned a shade of red usually reserved for crippling sunburns, or tomatoes. ¡°Uh¡­ wha¡­ what?¡± She coughed out. ¡°So, you know how when you do a full meld with someone with the skulljacks, you become the same person? One tiger, many stripes, that kind of thing. Well, it turns out, it takes a lot of the excitement out of sex. It¡¯s still *fun*, but it really isn¡¯t the same. And because of the difficulty of doing partial melds without assistance, it¡¯s *really* hard to stay focused enough to, say, *just* share physical sensation.¡± James explained dryly to the person who absolutely hadn¡¯t asked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I surrender!¡± Momo tried to concede the conversation, while Sarah gasped for air, kneeling on the floor next to them. ¡°Anyway! The point is, ¡®fun with skulljacks¡¯ can be a lot of things, but sexy usually isn¡¯t as much of one as you¡¯d expect. So we¡¯re gonna have some good ol¡¯ normal lovemaking.¡± He raised his eyebrows at Momo. ¡°Does that answer your question sufficiently, or do I need to go into *very explicit* detail about the way that Anesh is going to...¡± ¡°Please, I give up.¡± Momo tried to hide her head under her arms, mortified. James chuckled. ¡°Alright, alright.¡± He said. ¡°So, I¡¯m headed home now. Unless you have anything to ruin my night of passion and romance?¡± ¡°I made an AI in the basement and I need some cash for a wireless webcam.¡± Momo retaliated with a mock glare, cheeks still bright red. There was a pause while James waited for the joke to land. And then an awkward silence as Sarah picked herself up off the floor and dusted off her capris. And then, a moment of realization that Momo wasn¡¯t kidding, and had that *look* that showed up around here all the time, when someone did something impossible. Again. After a long, long sigh, James turned his head slowly to his friend. ¡°Sarah?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯d *love* to help!¡± She clapped her hands over her head with a grin. ¡°Go, go. Take out the trash and then enjoy having Anesh pound you like a carpenter.¡± Sarah shot an eyebrow waggle back, alternating between Momo and James, until James eventually shook his head and headed for the front door. After he was gone, Sarah turned back to Momo and threw an arm around the shorter girl¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Alright!¡± She asked. ¡°So! What kind of AI are we talking about here? Living program, android, some kind of infomorph thing?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I built a computer to look for dungeons and now it¡¯s asking questions.¡± ¡°Good. Good.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°Alright! Well, the good news is, if it didn¡¯t self destruct and almost kill us all yet, then you¡¯re doing a better job than Research did last time this happened. So! Let¡¯s get to work, eh?¡± Chapter 143 ¡°Look upward, and share the wonders I¡¯ve seen.¡± -John Chriton, Farscape- James walked through the doors of Officium Mundi like he was puppeting his own strings. Arms limp by his side, legs moving in intentionally deliberate steps that were almost stomps, eyes not really focused on anything. He trailed behind even the new members of the Order that were gawking at their first time. It was about twenty feet in that Sarah dropped back and pressed her shoulder up against his in a familiar motion. ¡°Hey.¡± She said. ¡°You doing okay?¡± ¡°Eh.¡± James replied listlessly. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°Not even close to what I asked.¡± She spoke softly, her voice still compassionate, but missing a lot of the bombast she usually used. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± James half-shrugged. ¡°Just depression bullshit.¡± He replied. ¡°Making it hard, as always. Kinda worse today than normal.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Sarah considered her words. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be depressed today?¡± She questioned, worried eyebrows tilted upward. ¡°What, because it¡¯s an adventure?¡± James thought about making a rude noise, but didn¡¯t make the effort. ¡°That¡¯s not how depression works.¡± He said, and was a little amused that Sarah echoed the words with him. ¡°I mean, now that you mention it, it is pretty fun watching the new kids see the place for the first time.¡± Sarah gave a hesitant grin that faltered as James just kept unfocused eyes staring forward. ¡°But seriously, is there anything I can do to help?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± James tried to say it with a cheerful tone, but got sarcasm by accident instead. ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± He sighed, ¡°it¡¯s not about being ¡®happy¡¯, it¡¯s the physically present symptoms of depression making it difficult to walk, or taste things, or even for my eyes to dilate properly. It¡¯s a lot of little things that make life hard. And the worst part is, I *know* I should be in a good mood today. But I¡¯m not. So we can add ¡®angry, mostly at myself¡¯ on top of the pile of problems.¡± Sarah leaned to the side, wrapping an arm around James¡¯ midsection in a sideways hug. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, buddy. I¡¯d hoped that potion JP got you would¡¯ve helped more. Or at all. Want me to give you a few hours of naptime? I can just sleep through tonight¡¯s dungeon adventures.¡± ¡°No thanks.¡± James managed a grin. ¡°And I¡­ didn¡¯t take the potion.¡± ¡°What?¡± Sarah stepped back, confused. She looked over James¡¯ face, and realized that he was serious. ¡°What.¡± She glared, crossing her arms. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of things¡­¡± James didn¡¯t get much farther than that before Sarah cut him off. ¡°Oh, did you not duplicate it yet?¡± ¡°No, we did. It doesn¡¯t copy properly. The other potions do, tho¡­¡± ¡°So you¡¯re running tests on it somehow.¡± James turned his head and shot Sarah a look. ¡°No. We¡¯ve done a chemical analysis on it, among other things. It¡¯s inert, nontoxic, all sorts of benign¡­¡± ¡°So you¡¯re waiting to¡­¡± This time James interrupted her, glowering at his friend. ¡°It appears to be exactly what it says. A one use, probably safe, cure-all-depression potion. There is no reason for me to have not taken it. Happy?¡± Sarah wasn¡¯t. Because even when James admitted that, there was something left unsaid. Because there *was* a reason he wasn¡¯t shotgunning the potion like it was an energy drink during finals season. She stared at her friend, who despite everything that had happened was still *her* best friend, searching his eyes for some hint as to what was going on. Sarah managed about three seconds of eye contact before James flinched away and stared at the ground, guilty expression on his face. ¡°Oh!¡± Sarah exclaimed. And then, a second later, softer, ¡°Oh. You¡¯re afraid.¡± ¡°I mean, the potion looks like an angry dragon corpse glowing with anti-light shoved into a bottle, so you can¡¯t really blame me.¡± James defended himself. Sarah shook her head. ¡°No, not like that. You know what I mean.¡± She reached out and grabbed James¡¯ hand, folding his fingers between her own. ¡°You¡¯re afraid of losing who you are.¡± James looked up, staring at her with a hollow look in his eyes. ¡°*Can* you blame me?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been this way my whole life. And yeah, it got better when we plucked you out of the dungeon, and I learned what was going on. But even though it¡¯s getting worse again, it¡¯s still¡­ part of me. It feels weird to just get rid of it because it¡¯s inconvenient.¡± ¡°Buddy...¡± Sarah started, and then shook her head and corrected. ¡°James. It¡¯s not ¡®inconvenient¡¯. You¡¯re standing here, in the lobby of a thousand mile long office, full of wish granting magic, and you can barely keep yourself standing. That isn¡¯t an inconvenience, that¡¯s a *problem*. What¡¯s that quote you repeat at least once a month from Eclipse Phase?¡± ¡°The body is hardware, upgrade. The mind is software, reprogram. The¡­¡± James replied mostly on instinct. ¡°Yeah, that. We all change. It happens. It doesn¡¯t mean you stop being you when you take control of what change is happening.¡± James registered Sarah¡¯s hands around his own, and weakly returned her grip. ¡°Have you always been this smart?¡± He asked with as much of a grin as he could. ¡°Yes.¡± She nodded imperiously. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re friends. I¡¯m the brains of the operation.¡± ¡°I thought you were the heart.¡± James quipped, some energy seeping through the grim veil around his thoughts. ¡°Yes, that too.¡± Sarah nodded more vigorously now. ¡°I am a lot of parts of the operation!¡± James smiled, and squeezed her hand one last time. ¡°Okay. Feeling a bit better now. I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll talk to Anesh tonight about the potion. Can we go risk our lives now? It¡¯s easier to move when it¡¯s life or death.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Oh yeah. It¡¯s how I can drive while I¡¯m like this.¡± ¡°You absolutely should not drive while you are like this.¡± Sarah admonished. ¡°But yes, let¡¯s catch up. Want me to do the introduction speech tonight?¡± James felt a wave of relief wash over him. ¡°*Please*¡± He thanked her. They moved into the dungeon, and for a little while, he walked without having to think too hard about it, limbs light and mind in motion. It wouldn¡¯t last forever, but it was something, and it would make it easier to fight back against the black cloud in his head for the rest of the night. Which was good, James thought. Because they had a *lot* to do tonight. _____ ¡°Okay, here¡¯s the deal.¡± James spoke to a group of five delvers, some new, some old. Anesh had found him a minute ago, presumably prompted by Sarah, and had gotten James to down a half-thermos of the mental sharpening coffee he¡¯d brought. It had left him feeling way more capable of taking on the dungeon, and interacting with other humans, even if it didn¡¯t entirely kill the physical symptoms of his depression like the light not being right or the coffee tasting like cough syrup. ¡°We¡¯re testing this out, and you¡¯re our first group. Don¡¯t grimace at me, Ethan, we already know it¡¯s safe!¡± ¡°I just don¡¯t wanna be a lab rat!¡± The young man retorted, giving a dramatic shake of his head that flipped his growing blonde hair around. ¡°It¡¯s not cool, man!¡± ¡°You¡¯re a test group *for the program*, not for the magic itself!¡± James bit back. ¡°So. When you open and read these books, you¡¯re going to start a Lesson from one of the other dungeons. It¡¯ll be an academic topic, and you¡¯re expected to learn about it. Fill up the bar, and you get a bonus, okay?¡± Nods from everyone, even Ethan. ¡°Now here¡¯s the thing. These copies, they work like copied orbs. They give you the same Lesson. And I mean *literally the same Lesson*. You¡¯re all going to have to learn the same hundred points of knowledge to progress, got it? That means, most likely, that you¡¯ll want to schedule a time to meet up somewhere and have a study group. Is everyone gonna be okay with that, or does anyone need to find a replacement?¡± The five selected delvers shook their heads eagerly. Every one of them had a slightly different look of excitement on their face. For Ethan, it was something bordering on hero worship. For Mark and Bill, the older blue collar workers had a look that was more about just being happy to be part of something. Though that look from them might also just be awe at the dungeon they¡¯d been invited into for the first time. Tyrone looked excited to be back in the magic saddle after months dealing with some family thing out of state. And Dave just looked like he was thrilled to be getting a textbook, finally. Either way, no one objected. ¡°Alright.¡± James handed over the five battered copies of what looked like a slightly singed version of one of those Penguin Classic books. ¡°Hope you all get along, because you¡¯re stuck with each other if you ever want this to go anywhere.¡± Thirty seconds later, the first official study group of the Order had a shared Lesson in [Drama : 0/100]. ¡°Woah. That feels a lot different than the balls.¡± Mark commented. And then, the group started talking to each other, while James just stepped back and watched them interact. Talk about what they already knew, what they could learn, and what their general plan was. Also, no small amount of speculation on what upgrade choices they might have. James wondered to himself how that would play out, pun mildly intended. How much would this little group focus on their Lesson, how much would they specialize, how far would they push the soft cap before they shifted to something else? Would the Order have a whole theater troupe before too long? Would someone be asking him for an extra basement to put on stage performances in sometime next month? He honestly kinda hoped so. Also it would let them test the diminishing returns of that basement orb. _____ ¡°I¡¯ve been having a hard time getting used to something, and I think it¡¯s causing problems.¡± James confided in Anesh. The two of them were five kilometers deep into the dungeon, and were currently snapping locks into place around the two bikes they¡¯d ridden to get here on an efficient timeline. The expansive hallway that James and Alanna had once explored to find an ocean of printer ink at the end was still mostly in place, despite the dungeon changing its structure more often now; but it had a lot more obstacles in it they had to contend with, which had made their ride mostly a quiet one. Now, though, James got a chance to talk. They¡¯d ridden as far as they could before the ground began to be overtaken by the pen cap ¡®sand¡¯ of the beach, and there was no way they could ride over that safely. The exercise had woken him up a bit more, and he was feeling pretty okay. ¡°Is this about the potion? Because I noticed¡­¡± ¡°Nope!¡± James cut him off. And then, a second later, he cleared his throat and relented. ¡°Okay, it could be. And I probably should talk to you about that soon. But no, this is different.¡± ¡°Is this gonna be about how pants are named? Because it took me long enough to get used to the word ¡®pants¡¯ not meaning ¡®underwear¡¯, and¡­¡± ¡°Anesh please.¡± James lightly chuckled. ¡°We¡¯re going to get into a fight before I finish my thing.¡± Anesh looked around at where they¡¯d parked. The cubicle ahead and to their left was half crumbled into the sandy substance that filled the gaps between the pen lids on the shores of the ink ocean, but the other ones around them were still intact. Or, as intact as deeper dungeon cubicles ever were. All different heights, even as they were all identically grey in color. Some had overhangs or crenellations around their upper parts, one had a ¡®door¡¯ that would require crawling. Normal stuff, really. ¡°I thought this place was safe.¡± Anesh suspiciously asked. ¡°We¡¯re in a dungeon.¡± ¡°James, so far, one and a half of the dungeons we¡¯ve found have been safe.¡± James counted on his fingers as he tried to get his impaired brain to work through that. ¡°Is this the half? Or¡­ no, this is the half. Okay, yeah, fair. My point was there¡¯s monsters everywhere and the beach shellaxies are actually very angry all the time.¡± ¡°I¡¯d be angry too if I had sand in my coolant fan.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°So anyway. Trouble wrapping your head around¡­?¡± The way his partner reintroduced the thing James had been saying made him almost sigh in relief. Anesh did it without thinking, but it took a ton of the anxiety off of James¡¯ mind. ¡°Right. It¡¯s the concept of testing to destruction.¡± ¡°I¡¯m tangentially familiar with it, mostly because we have tech people. Why¡¯s it a problem?¡± Anesh asked as the two of them went back and forth checking each other¡¯s armor, and unhooking their weapons from the bikes. They kept talking as they started to sweep the cubicles around where they¡¯d parked; no sense not making sure there wasn¡¯t something spiky and angry at their exit point. ¡°The idea is, you see how long something works under stressful conditions, until it stops working.¡± James didn¡¯t have to raise his voice much to be heard through the walls; the Office was quiet here, a zone of dead air between the hum of the air conditioners and the crash of the ink waves. ¡°It¡¯s good for getting to know the limits of things, and also figure out where you need to work on improving. Buuuuuut¡­¡± ¡°But a lot of our fun stuff is, uh¡­ hang on.¡± From the other side of the cubicle wall, there was a crunch, and then a pained yelp from Anesh before another wet crack of a noise. A portion of the dividing wall cracked slightly and bowed in toward James¡¯ head, and he suppressed a snicker as he continued rifling through the filing cabinet before rising back to his feet, just as Anesh continued. ¡°Sorry. Ow, wanker tried to ambush me. I got two ranks in the etiquette of breakups, though. That¡¯s¡­ worrying.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t read too far into it.¡± James told him. ¡°I once got skill points in fellation, and that¡­ oh wait.¡± ¡°Oh my god.¡± Anesh gasped, and a second later James had to duck as a rubber band ball was lobbed over the wall between them, bouncing wildly before James caught it and set it onto the desk. ¡°The *point* is that our stuff is all irreplaceable magic, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± James said, heading to the cubicle across the hall. This one looked unoccupied, which was something that didn¡¯t happen often, surprisingly. Just an empty desk and a single chair. And a lone picture frame sitting on the desk, ornate gold filigree around its edge. James had a weird feeling about it, so he added it to his pack to check later, before double checking there were not strider nests in the drawers of the desk. ¡°And now, like, we can make copies of small stuff, but not¡­ a lot?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve more or less maximized volume, yeah.¡± Anesh rejoined James by their bikes. ¡°And we¡¯re kinda limited on how much mana coffee we can bring in.¡± ¡°Why aren¡¯t we just teleporting to the towers?¡± ¡°Oh! I figured you¡¯d be up on this. The dungeon erases our ¡®landing pad¡¯ markings, and we can¡¯t name the towers, so it¡¯s very hard to get to them properly. Usually the telepads just don¡¯t do anything.¡± Anesh grabbed the spear he¡¯d leaned up against the bikes and tipped it over his shoulder. ¡°So, testing?¡± He asked, getting a grip on his weapon as James took a drink of water. The spear might have seemed out of place, but this one had an electromagnet and a pretty big battery in it. It was for if they ran into another maimframe, or anything else that gave a damn about having its hard drive scrambled. ¡°Oh yeah. We don¡¯t take stuff as far as it can go to see where it stops. And we need to, if we ever want to maximize things. But that kinda means using the Lair or somewhere else we control as a test ground, and it¡¯s weird to me? Like, for real, we should be windmill slamming basement orbs until it stops giving us basements. Because we need to know how many basements we can get. We should be building a lineup of blue orbs that give good absorb powers. We should be getting everyone to do accelerated strength training with those fuckin weird potions JP bought for us. Which *by the way*, feel really weird to drink.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve tried one?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve tried several.¡± James replied. ¡°I¡¯m trying to figure out what the limits are. Get around my own biases and mental hangups.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°This is different from how we¡¯ve been doing things. What changed?¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Nothing.¡± James said. ¡°Not a fucking thing.¡± He realized suddenly that he was snarling, and brought his expression back under control before Anesh noticed as the two of them started to proceed down the increasingly crunchy hallway on foot. They passed by a water cooler, tank cracked open and half full of sandy dust. The cubicle walls around them became more and more crumbled as they walked. At first, it was just a little erosion around the tops, but it quickly turned into whole chunks having fallen off, dusty puffs of coarse sand drifting out of decayed holes in the walls as they passed by. Anesh stayed quiet, waiting for James to find the words he wanted to use; keeping his eyes on the mostly empty cubicles around them. There just wasn¡¯t much furniture or features around the beach, but that wasn¡¯t any reason to drop your guard. Eventually, they passed a demarcation line. The walls around them rapidly shifted now, from towering fifteen foot overhangs to normal height cubicles to short waist high walls, and eventually to nothing more than stumbling blocks in the sand. Plant life began to creep in on those surfaces, before eventually resigning itself to growing out of the ground itself; ivy in highlighter yellow and blue and green, vegetation tipped with a hundred blades. The ground underfoot had no sign of carpet anymore, being completely overtaken by rocky pen caps and sandy drifts. Ahead of the duo, miles of beach stretched around a bay of black inky liquid. The dull roar of waves constantly overlapping and slapping against the shore filled their ears, and the distant breeze from some monolithic AC unit in the far off horizon tugged at their clothes where the cloth poked out from under the armor. Anesh took a deep breath, and instantly remembered that the ocean here was made of printer ink. By the time he¡¯d finished coughing, and had pulled out and put on a filter mask, James had decided on what he wanted to say. ¡°You know how normal we are?¡± He rhetorically asked. He didn¡¯t give Anesh time to answer. ¡°We¡¯re so normal, the fucking FBI wants to be friends with us.¡± James commented flatly. ¡°We hang out, talking about building a better world, but even though *we¡¯ve* changed, even though *we¡¯re* better, faster, stronger, and more magic, what have we actually *done*?¡± James looked over at his boyfriend, eyes dully pleading. ¡°We haven¡¯t built anything, we haven¡¯t broken anything, we¡¯re just doing what we always do. Delve this place and say we¡¯ll do something nice for the world once we¡¯re ¡®better¡¯. And it¡¯s just too easy for me to get so angry about it.¡± James started stalking down the sand, taking a left from where they¡¯d emerged out of the line of cubes and leaving a trail of boot prints behind. ¡°Okay,¡± Anesh said, catching up to his partner, ¡°so, first off, shut the fuck up?¡± He opened with, and then grit his teeth as he heard the words his brain had formulated. But still, he powered through. ¡°You, personally, are responsible for something like a hundred people being alive who otherwise wouldn¡¯t? Maybe a thousand more if you count the half a high school that¡¯d be turned into compost if not for you. On top of that, you¡¯ve got the camracondas, which is another batch of fifty people, and you¡¯re more or less responsible for the, like, two or three thousand people who¡¯ve been assisted by the response team at this point?¡± ¡°Eh.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s more than that. Though it¡¯s not like those people would have all died.¡± ¡°Shut up. Again. I know you¡¯re feeling like shit today, and I know you know that you¡¯re so much more than what your brain is letting you focus on. But you don¡¯t get to pretend you haven¡¯t done anything. Or that we *aren¡¯t* doing anything! Probably the only reason the FBI isn¡¯t actively trying to shoot you, me, and everyone else in the Order, is because we have, against all odds, managed to keep the skulljacks secret up to this point! And if you¡¯re itching for a fight, I personally promise that at least one police union is going to try to have you, or maybe Harvey, assassinated within a year. Does that make you feel better?¡± ¡°Somehow, inexplicably.¡± James blinked, and was only a little surprised to find his eyes wet. ¡°I just feel useless. I feel like the world is so huge, and we can¡¯t do anything about it, magic or no.¡± Anesh wrapped his arms around James from behind, stopping his forward walk for a minute as he tried to give the best armored hug he could. ¡°I know.¡± He said. ¡°Seriously, I know. But we¡¯ll just keep trying, until something gives, okay?¡± ¡°Ok¡­¡± James started to say, with a shaky grin. He marshelled some of his mental strength, and began to pull himself together. Which is when the sand to their right, toward the black ocean of ink, exploded upward in a fountain of plastic and dust, and a shellaxy the size of a pony burst through the debris to lunge at them. James reacted so fast he wasn¡¯t even sure what he was doing until a split second after it had happened. As the rectangular hardware maw approached, he shrugged hard, pushing Anesh off him and back a couple steps, and then without missing a beat, slammed his hands together on the pebbled metallic sides of the creature that had literally jumped at the chance to eat his face. It was too big to arrest all its forward momentum, but James was stronger than he looked. And, as a bonus, he¡¯d been working out; alchemically packing *months* of exercise into a couple of days. Still, instead of trying to hold the overweight aggressive computer in place, he just pivoted and body slammed it into the beach with a spray of grit. In that moment, the mask suddenly seemed like the smartest idea he¡¯d ever had, even if some of the sand did spray into his eye. James rolled away from the creature¡¯s thrashing cords and chomping teeth, and started to draw his handgun, when Anesh interjected. His partner had stepped back and fetched his spear from where he¡¯d planted it in the sand, and now, he thrust forward as hard as possible with the weapon braced under his armored arm. Still, ¡®as hard as possible¡¯ wasn¡¯t quite enough to do more than poke a half an inch of the bladed point into the metallic chitin of the shellaxy, which instantly started thrashing to try to lunge at Anesh next. But the young man stayed calm, kept the point in their enemy, and flicked a switch on the haft of the spear. The internal battery connected, cycled, and dumped as much power as possible into the electromagnet built into the spear¡¯s point. There wasn¡¯t any fanfare, just a clearly artificial popping sound, the feeling of something off in the air, and the shellaxy going suddenly limp before toppling over. ¡°Good job.¡± James told Anesh, standing up and dusting himself off. ¡°I feel better now!¡± He added. ¡°I¡¯m almost certain that¡¯s adrenaline.¡± Anesh was gasping for breath, while James looked perfectly collected. ¡°Also, piss.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°It died mostly intact. The orb dropped inside it.¡± Anesh complained. James almost laughed, but chose to just pat Anesh on the shoulder instead. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll get this one. You okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good. Let¡¯s grab the orb, and get to the tree, yeah?¡± With a noise of agreement, James got to work. They didn¡¯t get ambushed the rest of the way to the decision tree they were here to visit. Though they did see *something* breach the waves a couple miles out from the shore. It didn¡¯t look like a whale, but it clearly had similar dimensions, even from this distance. Anesh caught James¡¯ attention and pointed as the creature rose out of the waves around where a flock of paper was gliding over the ocean, and the two of them watched as the thing repeatedly rose and fell below the waves. Then, just as they were about to turn away, a hundred black lines exploded out of it like needles, spearing dozens of the pieces of paper that flew around it. Even from this far away, they could see its back open up to reveal some kind of fleshy interior, which the paper birds fell into by the score, before the creature sealed itself back up and dove again, this time not resurfacing. ¡°Well that was fucked up.¡± James stated. ¡°New plan. Let¡¯s never go in the water.¡± Anesh added. ¡°It¡¯s ink.¡± ¡°Even more reason!¡± Anesh threw his free hand into the air, turning to continue, this time with a bit more of an angry stalk to his walk, toward the decision tree. The rates had gotten worse. They traded a hundred yellow orbs for eight purples, resigned to the bad deal, and headed back. There was still plenty of time left tonight, and they planned to copy and test all of these for armory candidates before the delve was over. The monitor lizards waved goodbye to them in unison as they headed back away from the tree to their bikes. The small green and clear plastic creatures shifting themselves back and forth in unison, undoubtedly planning to gorge themselves on the extortionate price they¡¯d extracted from the delvers. ¡°Do you ever feel like bringing everyone here for a vacation day?¡± James asked as they left. Anesh wiped furiously at a splatter of ink that had gotten onto his cheek. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°This place sucks.¡± _____ [+3 Skill Ranks : Drive - Car - Honda Civic] [+2 Skill Ranks : Programming - C++] [+1 Skill Rank : Fishing] [+1 Skill Rank : History - Metallurgy - South America] [+1 Skill Rank : Construction - Home - Wall] James nodded to himself as he cracked the large yellow orb, the feeling of new knowledge filling the corners of his mind both familiar and yet perpetually novel. He was helping Momo and Daniel with a run to one of the water cooler caves. Bill, the more burly and less tired of the two more mature men who¡¯d come in with them, was also tagging along, for experience. Things were going pretty well so far, honestly. Which was how James was choosing to phrase the fact that they¡¯d only gotten into a few life or death fights. Also, he¡¯d been *very clear* on the fact that Daniel was not allowed to use Pathfinder¡¯s ability to seek out a goal tonight. He was *tired*, and while he was starting to pull his mental fortress back together, James was well aware that he had *zero* patience for ¡®misadventure¡¯ on this delve. They¡¯d just ambushed a group of stuffed shirts that had been blocking the way forward. Where possible, James liked to avoid being the aggressor in fights around here, but the stuffed shirts were hostile basically a hundred percent of the time. The fight had been mostly one sided, with Bill shaking off his anxiety at an actual battle just in time to rescue Daniel from having his throat crushed. At the end of it, they had three yellow globes, and three piles of shredded cardstock. The team had moved on, while debating who got the orbs. Which had led to a long tangential conversation about the difference between green and yellow Life. Bill had some questions, and the rest of them had some wild speculation. ¡°The main difference,¡± Momo had said, ¡°is that the dungeon *owns* green orb Life. As long as, you know, it¡¯s here. It seems to not work outside, since the camracondas are cool in the Lair.¡± ¡°Wait, they¡¯re green?¡± Daniel asked, eyebrows up. ¡°Oh yeah, absolutely.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°We¡¯re not really sure what the variations in life-types actually are, though, right James?¡± She waited for an answering nod before continuing. ¡°Yellows act like, well¡­ wildlife. Greens are the agents of the dungeon, but *sometimes* they leave the dungeon, and keep working for it. We¡¯re pretty sure things like the iLipedes are red life, but we haven¡¯t actually killed any so we don¡¯t know, and I¡¯m not about to either! Those things are nice. Oh, and then informorphs, which are purple. Right Path?¡± Momo elbowed the space around Daniel in a friendly way. ¡°Not even close.¡± Daniel informed her, a shimmering orange mirage flaring to life over his right shoulder briefly, showing off Pathfinder¡¯s physical position. ¡°Well, whatever.¡± Momo grumbled. ¡°Anyway, stuffed shirts are weird.¡± ¡°Weird how?¡± Bill asked. ¡°Weird because they¡¯re the only one that we¡¯ve seen that drop *either* a green or yellow.¡± James answered. ¡°Also, Momo didn¡¯t say this, but we don¡¯t know how the red life is different at all from yellow. Or how it relates to the dungeon, in terms of taking orders or not.¡± ¡°Yeah, these ones are yellow. So, they¡¯re¡­ skills, right?¡± Bill asked, tossing one up and down, the melon sized ball not looking quite so large in his huge hand. ¡°Do you copy these? Like the ones you gave to us when we signed on?¡± ¡°Oh, hell no.¡± James shook his head. ¡°It¡¯d be cool, obviously, if we found one that gives a big batch of points in something useful. But they¡¯re *huge*. Fitting one of those in the projector basically means you¡¯re giving up copying twenty smaller orbs. And with how many people we have now, the smaller ones are just more useful, almost every time.¡± This led to more questions about where the life came from. Everyone had to admit that they didn¡¯t really know. In theory, they were aware that you could use a yellow to basically create life in anything that didn¡¯t already have it. But the Order had been holding back on going too nuts on that. Life needed to eat, and oftentimes what it needed, even if it could supplement its diet with mundane materials, was more orbs. The dungeon *probably* made orbs, somehow. Life in here, almost certainly, made more life. Striders often had that kind of look like they¡¯d been put together a little haphazardly. It was entirely possible their nests were all started by one strider with a pile of orbs, a desire for family, and some determination. No one had ever witnessed it directly, but they all knew that yellow life could make more yellow life. After all, Rufus had made Ganesh, so long ago. ¡°Yeah, the paper pusher thing confuses the shit out of me.¡± James admitted. ¡°Like, do the green ones make subservient yellow ones? Or are they both just made for different reasons? And what determines it?¡± He shrugged. ¡°The green ones seem to be able to take over other dungeon life they come across; they always whip up strider swarms around them.¡± ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a promotion?¡± Daniel asked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Like, the yellow ones get promoted to managers. And then they become green orbs?¡± He sheepishly suggested. ¡°I mean, a lot of stuff here doesn¡¯t map perfectly to actually working in an office, but, like.. these things are shaped like employees?¡± ¡°Huh.¡± James made a motion somewhere between a nod and a shrug. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s the best theory so far!¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s probably something way more sinister, though. Oh! Here¡¯s a fucking weird thing! These guys all have names!¡± Momo jerked back, dropping the orb she¡¯d been doing basketball tricks with. ¡°Wait, what?¡± She asked, letting it fall into their cart. ¡°Oh yeah! We¡¯ve scanned a dozen or so of them with an iLipede. The paper pusher orbs always read as people¡¯s names.¡± James let out a long breath of air. ¡°Man, the first time that happened, I actually threw up? The names are apparently random though. They don¡¯t map to anyone who¡¯s actually gone missing or died, even though coincidence is gonna make at least one name line up sometimes.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± After a few more comments and questions chased the conversation in familiar circles, Bill asked something most new people eventually asked. ¡°What do the paper pushers¡­ do?¡± ¡°Lots of things.¡± James gave a small nod to a passing strider walking on the cubicle walls. ¡°Sometimes they¡¯re delivering mail or messing with the computers. The real ones, not the shellaxies. Sometimes, the green ones go out into the real world and try to kill people. No idea why they do that, but we¡¯re getting good at stopping them. Sometimes they¡¯re acting like fantasy novel bandits, blocking paths with walls of rolling chairs and ambushing us. Other times, they sit at desks and stare straight ahead, and don¡¯t move.¡± ¡°So, they¡¯re not people?¡± Bill seemed concerned. ¡°I think they¡¯re like everything else here. They could be people, or they could be¡­ I mean, ¡®monsters¡¯, even though I don¡¯t like the word. They¡¯re individuals.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Momo chimed in. ¡°Sometimes they wear faces! Like, the masks. They wear the masks like faces. And it doesn¡¯t look any different until they tear them off and throw them at you.¡± ¡°Masks? The sticky note things?¡± Bill asked. ¡°Yup. We never came up with a clever name for them.¡± Momo lamented. ¡°Got any suggestions?¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m not a word guy.¡± Bill replied. ¡°Besides, I dunno what they do.¡± ¡°Try to eat your face, mostly.¡± Daniel sheepishly added his voice to a lull in conversation. ¡°In my head, I call them the Masks of Amontillado.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s fuckin great.¡± Momo beamed at him, giving a light clap with her fingertips. ¡°James? Got anything?¡± ¡°I was gonna suggest ¡®flayer mache¡¯, but while that¡¯s easier to say, Daniel¡¯s is kicking my ass by virtue of being actually on theme, and them not being paper mache at all.¡± James sketched a bow toward the other delver. ¡°Good job. You¡¯re officially one of us now.¡± ¡°Wait, *that¡¯s* the requirement?!¡± Momo exclaimed in horror, even as Daniel looked like he was legitimately trying to hold back a tearful smile. ¡°I¡¯m so bad at puns! No, no, it¡¯s fine! I¡¯ll name¡­¡± Whatever bad idea Momo was going to propose was shot down by the cluster of feral striders that had been attracted by the yelling, throwing themselves off the tops of cubicles and aiming for skulls and vital organs. Even with Bill letting out a high pitched yelp and tumbling backward at the surprise, the team cleaned up the ambush in a couple minutes. [+1 Skill Rank : Fabrication - Lightbulbs] [+1 Skill Rank : Math - Statistics] The group moved on, occasionally having to stop to find an alternate path for the carts they were hauling with them, but mostly making constant progress toward the cave they were looking for. James lapsed into silence, mostly just keeping an eye on the skies above them, and letting Momo field questions from the new guy. When they eventually decided to draw straws for who got the orbs, he won one, and that was when they¡¯d lightened the cart slightly. When they reached the water cooler cave, the operation went off without a hitch. The pinpricks, still unfortunately magnetic, were swept up and pinned in a corner while the group quietly pulled more silver and magic programming devices out of the walls. Okay, mostly quietly. Bill kept trying to make up mining songs to pass the time. And then ¡®mostly quietly¡¯ became ¡®raucously¡¯ after Momo got over being nervous and started trying to join in. It turned out, Momo was a lot of things, and ¡®on key¡¯ was not one of them. On the way out, James stopped to take a few pictures on his phone. One of the tanks, the crystalline growths out of the ground and walls that seemed to slowly fill with pure water, wasn¡¯t full of water. It was near the entrance, and he hadn¡¯t spotted it on the way in, and now that he saw it as they passed by to leave, he had an instant spike of anxiety about the singing they¡¯d been doing. Because it wasn¡¯t empty, it was full of something. Something red and black that twisted around itself in slow spirals, like the storms of Jupiter. The tank was only half full, but as James paused to frown at it and make a record, just in case someone else had seen this before, he saw another drop of liquid fall from the ceiling and slide perfectly into the mouth of the tank, adding to the substance. Was it something growing? Some kind of poison waiting to erupt? Was it alive, and watching them? It looked *mean*, was this the dungeon finally being done with their presence? ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Bill asked, nudging James out of his anxious speculation. ¡°Nothing good, I¡¯m betting.¡± James sighed, pocketing his phone. Well, not *his* phone. But a phone. He¡¯d learned his lesson after the third time he had to replace his phone due to unforeseen combat damage. But he still wanted a way to take photographs and use the wifi in here, so the Order had run off a bunch of copies of a mid grade smartphone that they used for Officium Mundi operations, and nothing else. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go. Time for the hard part.¡± ¡°Hauling all this back?¡± ¡°Yuuuuup.¡± James nodded at the older man as they ascended the ramp to where Daniel and Momo were struggling to tetris the pieces into the carts. ¡°Aw, toughen up kid!¡± Bill somehow managed to sound friendly and not condescending when calling James ¡®kid¡¯. ¡°Manual labor builds character. And *muscles*!¡± He flexed his furred bicep with a toothy grin. His smile had gaps in it, but his logic didn¡¯t. So James grinned back. ¡°Yeah, yeah. The fact that this is paying for half your salaries helps, too.¡± ¡°Your salary too, eh?¡± Bill nudged him again. ¡°James doesn¡¯t get paid.¡± Daniel cut in, swearing slightly as he dropped one of the larger pieces and nicked his finger open. ¡°Fuck, ow! Hand me the bandaids?¡± ¡°I¡¯m busy!¡± Momo growled back, pushing with both arms and her whole body to roll a seventy pound hunk of silver into the side of the cart. Bill stepped over and added a hand to her effort, letting Momo direct while he applied a professional amount of force, easily sliding the material into a securely wedged position. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t he get paid?¡± He whispered to Momo and Daniel. ¡°Is he being punished for something?¡± ¡°What? No. I don¡¯t get paid either.¡± Momo shrugged. ¡°Yeah, and Karen complains about it every time I turn in receipts to her.¡± Daniel told the girl in the silver studded armor. Momo made a rude noise with her lips. ¡°I don¡¯t need cash. He doesn¡¯t either. There¡¯s no reason to care, right?¡± ¡°Stop talking about my finances, and let¡¯s get moving!¡± James called over to them. He had a boot placed on a tipped over shellaxy that had wandered into the clearing around the cave while the three of them had talked. It had tried to bite him, but it was kinda lethargic about it, and James wasn¡¯t gonna put in the physical effort to kill something that didn¡¯t seem to be really trying to do the same to him. ¡°Come on! I¡¯m feeling better, and I want to test all the purples Anesh duplicated to see if any of them break society!¡± ¡°Is he always like this?¡± Bill asked his coworkers about their employer. ¡°Pretty much.¡± Daniel was still smiling. Sure, their leader was a bit weird. But he was too, after all. He was one of them. _____ Anesh had worked his magic, which was actually the magic of anyone who could follow directions on the bag of ritual coffee, and had a duplicate run of all the purple orbs collected that day. Eight from him and James, two from Alex¡¯s group that had caught a paper pusher pack off guard and managed to get the orbs off them before they got turned into hostile memes. He hadn¡¯t wasted space, and so had filled the remainder of the case with vials of the exercise maximization potion. Those things were shockingly powerful, for anyone willing to put in the work. And Anesh wasn¡¯t just saying that because his boyfriend had developed two months worth of muscle tone overnight. It wasn¡¯t like he *liked* abs or anything. But if James *had* abs, Anesh wasn¡¯t going to complain. He just¡­ didn¡¯t need to finish this line of thought. The ten copied orbs were distributed and tested, the Order collectively searching for anything they would want to make a thousand more of and spread around their organization and maybe the general population when possible. At some point in the evening, Anesh had been made aware that the Old Gun had been spotted again, and he was intensely aware of just how outclassed they were by that thing. They needed every purple orb they could get, every possible edge. And everyone was largely in agreement about that. There was a grim calculus to their explorations these days, even as they all took part in the wonder of seeing new parts of the Office or finding new incredible magic. There was an enemy out there, one that was at least partially aware of them, and could kill them all without trying if she wanted to. They needed to be *ready*. Or at least, prepared to do some damage on the way out. Anesh himself only took one orb, getting something entirely reasonable and not at all useful for fighting a god. [Shell Upgraded : Radiation Resistance - 120 Rads / Day Negated] It put him further on the road to being an exceptional space-based life form. But it wasn¡¯t instantly useful. Still, he noted that orb, and saved the original. James got given two, as a way of Anesh trying to cheer him up. Nevermind that he¡¯d arrived in good cheer anyway; it was important to do nice things for people you cared about. What he¡¯d gotten had been a little more¡­ bombastic. [Shell Upgraded : -1 Cancer / Year] [Shell Upgraded : Elbow Joint - Range of Motion - +26 degrees] James was excited over the combat potential of the second one in hand to hand fights. *Everyone else*, especially including James, were excited over the prospect of¡­ no more cancer. Ever. They didn¡¯t have wikipedia in here, but they did have a medical student, and some roughly remembered statistics informed everyone that this probably was a first step on the path to true biological immortality. James got a lot more excited after hearing that. Not that he wasn¡¯t before, but if before his excitement was sitting at a seven out of ten, now it was firmly clocked in a nice chunky ¡®six thousand¡¯. The best part was, they could run off sixty copies of this orb per run. And while there were hundreds of thousands of cancer patients in the world, and they¡¯d never be able to get to them all, a person only had to crack the orb *once* to be given a near perfect immunity to one of the worst scourges humanity faced. Bit by bit, they could immunize everyone, if they moved fast enough. They¡¯d never be fast *enough*, but they could focus on this. They could do it. Change the world. Forever. Compared to that bombshell, the upgrades to lactose tolerance or vision range or water storage or improved fertility just *didn¡¯t seem that important*. Anesh noted them all down anyway, though. Especially the one Ethan got that simply said : [Shell Upgraded : -1 Broke Bone / Month] They were absolutely going to test that one to destruction. Probably not on Ethan. Though with how excited he was, it was possible he¡¯d already triggered the damn thing kicking the floor. ____ The Order had, in the last hour of delve time, congregated around the tower they used as a home base. Small conversations, tired smiles, and an overall feeling of accomplishment filled the air. It had been, all things considered, a good day. They used their spare time before they moved out to clean armor, stock equipment properly, and just lounge around on ¡®couches¡¯ made of lines of padded chairs. Or, for a few people, to leave early and head to the bathrooms. The time dilation would mean that the rest of the group would catch up to them almost instantly from their perspective, but it was still a way of calling dibs, and not spending another hour with a full bladder. But as the minutes ticked by, there was still one person missing. Simon still hadn¡¯t arrived back at the tower. A quick roster check showed that he¡¯d made the choice to go off hunting on his own tonight. A proposition that was so absurdly dangerous in a building that had hostile camracondas in it, that James had wasted several minutes swearing. Creatively, and loudly. The Order had begun organizing rapid search parties, throwing noise and caution to the wind, and was prepared to storm down the path their missing hunter had taken, when the young man had limped back into the fortifications. His armor had been savaged, chunks snapped off in some spots, melted away in small dots in others. He was bleeding from a gash on his forehead, and clearly favoring his left leg. If he¡¯d taken a backpack, or a weapon, he¡¯d left it in the Office somewhere. Behind him, he led two serpent shaped forms on leashes of paracord. A pair of camracondas, one, James noticed, wearing the missing backpack over its head like a hood. The other one with a suit jacket and ample duct tape forming a similar mask. Neither of the puppet camracondas could see, and therefore use their immobilizing power. They looked, it seemed, about as battered as Simon himself. ¡°I¡­¡± Simon started dryly, before coughing repeatedly until someone got him a bottle of water. He thanked them, and tried again. ¡°I dunno¡­ if they¡¯re prisoners, or refugees, or what. But you¡¯re probably gonna want to telepad them into the secure room.¡± He said. He almost took a seat, but Sarah calling out a five minute warning got everyone moving, *fast*. They still didn¡¯t want to be trying out what it was like to survive in here for a week, cut off from the outside world. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about this later.¡± James said. ¡°For now, let¡¯s go. Everyone move! Come on, orderly lines, you know the drill! We¡¯ve practiced this!¡± They¡¯d practiced it over and over. Once out, they had about twenty minutes before the building¡¯s camera system would come back on. So far, somehow, mostly thanks to the pandemic, they continued to avoid being detected by the management or ownership of James¡¯ old workplace, and tonight wasn¡¯t the night they wanted to break that streak. Twenty delvers and two hopefully future liberated camracondas left the infinite expanse of Officium Mundi and stepped into the ¡®real¡¯ world of Earth. It had been a good night. Chapter 144 ¡°Happiness, for everybody, free, and no one will go away unsatisfied!¡± -Arkady Strugatsky, Roadside Picnic- ¡°Okay, the first thing you need to know is that there¡¯s something wrong with the Status Quo gear.¡± Reed told James as he stepped off the elevator to their basement. Their fifth basement. They¡¯d found the limits of that particular orb. Five basements before it began to have diminishing returns. Which translated to ¡°and then two crawlspaces¡±. And then an access panel. At that point, they ran out of copies of the orb to use, which was probably for the best anyway. James had netted a total of five and a fifth ranks in horseback riding from the whole thing, the rapidly diminishing returns on the skill ranks mirroring the quick decline on the quality of subterranean spaces pretty well. Test to destruction. Find the limits. Then abuse those limits. And it wasn¡¯t like they didn¡¯t need the space. The caveat of having more people was that the Order had more projects running at any given time. And as those projects expanded in scope, or potential accidental lethality, giving them more room to operate was a good idea. Basement three was still undergoing repairs from where *someone* had punched a hole through its ceiling, but it would eventually be entirely for Research. Basement four had been given over entirely to Response, with James grumbling to himself and anyone nearby as he¡¯d been drafted against his will to help set up the entire monitoring and communications station, *again*, only *bigger* this time. Basements one and two were still a jumbled mess of a dozen ideas, including a gold mine and also some apartments, but they were sorting those out as they expanded. And basement five, well¡­ it was closest in style to basement two - and boy was James having trouble keeping track of these, augmented memory or no - with a somewhat twisting mess of hallways that half the time dead ended in boiler rooms or janitor¡¯s closets. The lighting wasn¡¯t great either, but one of the new guys was already working on that. The building generated quite a lot of free electricity these days, so getting some better stuff in here wasn¡¯t as difficult as it should have been. Momo and Deb were already talking about converting some of these small storage rooms or old offices into more living spaces, though these ones specifically for their camraconda population that still didn¡¯t have permanent residences of their own. And then the halls ended, opening into a space that had, the first time he¡¯d been here, reminded James a little too much of the sudden way that Officium Mundi could have a cubicle corridor terminate in a break room, somehow sneaking up on you with stationary architecture. Someone had set the place up as a temporary shooting range, and since no one was living down here yet, James was gonna allow it for at least a little while. They¡¯d absolutely need this space for something else eventually, and having a shooting range in the same basement as where people were doing actual work was a bad idea without literal magic soundproofing. But for the moment, it was a good place to get some practice in. James processed most of this subconsciously while he stepped off the elevator, nodding at Reed. ¡°Okay. Neat.¡± He said in reply. ¡°Ah, sorry!¡± Reed ducked his head. ¡°I mean, they¡¯re not out of commission! They¡¯re just weird in the context of the ones that we copied and I think there¡¯s something fundamentally wrong with them but it¡¯s probably not a big deal and I¡¯m sorry for leading with a problem!¡± The words poured out of him like a torrent. James glanced over and nodded slightly a couple times with pursed lips. ¡°Uh huh. It¡¯s fine, I figured you¡¯d explain.¡± ¡°You¡­ uh¡­¡± Reed still looked sheepish. ¡°You seem less worried than normal?¡± ¡°Eh, I¡¯m trying this thing where I trust that if there¡¯s a real problem, someone will tell me efficiently. If someone is inefficient, therefore, the problem isn¡¯t world shattering.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s really helped me calm down a lot, actually! Not perfect, but it¡¯s great for the anxiety.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ good. Good.¡± Reed nodded as he made a judgement call on James¡¯ personal mental health. ¡°Anyway. Um.. so, Status Quo¡¯s bracers and bracelets and stuff are bad.¡± ¡°Now *that* I¡¯ve got questions on.¡± James snapped his fingers into a point at his lead researcher as he let Reed lead them through the relatively new basement halls that he was more familiar with than James was. ¡°Because they¡¯ve saved our asses repeatedly. Hell, our only real military-grade weapon is the dart gun on rapid reload handing out one way tickets to fireball island. If the SQ gear is degrading or something, that¡¯s an issue.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not degrading. It¡¯s just¡­ okay, I have numbers here for you.¡± Reed sighed in relief as they made it to the firing range, where it looked like a roaming pack of white boards had taken an interest in the shooting line, and the one person currently down here. ¡°Hey Nik.¡± James greeted the kid. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Gonna shoot at Reed to test a thing.¡± He nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a welcome back present.¡± James slowly pivoted his head around, narrowed eyes glaring at the young man who was still wearing bandages and an arm sling. ¡°Oh really.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as you think.¡± Reed said. ¡°Really!¡± With a roll of his eyes, James decided to trust that they¡¯d tell him if they were planning to murder Reed, and jumped back to the previous thing. ¡°Alright, what do we have here?¡± He pointed at the charts on the board. ¡°Alright!¡± Reed looked like he wanted to clap, but was missing the use of one hand, so he slapped one of the whiteboards instead. ¡°So, all the items have a number of abilities, which have a level, xp bar, cooldown, banked charges, and sometimes modifiers.¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve used the shield bracer, Reed. A lot.¡± James tried to keep from sounding rude about it, so he gave a light grin instead of an eye roll. ¡°And the copies aren¡¯t great because they always come out with a single level one ability.¡± ¡°Right. Right! Let¡¯s use the shield as an example!¡± Reed got excited. ¡°So, the Status¡­ the SQ shields,¡± Reed accepted the shortening of the term, ¡°they have the two powers, which is handy. One to block, one to switch what you block. Now here¡¯s the thing; leveling up the block on this one¡­ here. This one.¡± He held up a bracer off a table of clutter nearby, with a series of tags dangling off it, ¡°takes nineteen thousand uses to go from level eighteen to nineteen.¡± ¡°Yikes?¡± James offered. ¡°Correct, yikes.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°And from the few that we have leveled up, we know that mostly all it does is increase max charges stored, and *very slightly* reduce the cooldown.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never actually upgraded one of them myself, so I didn¡¯t know that. That¡¯s kinda cool, though, right?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, that makes these very effective legacy artifacts. Something to pass on to the future that only ever upgrades and doesn¡¯t degrade, right?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you plan on living forever?¡± Nikhail asked him, voice a little too loud from the interference of the shooting earmuffs he was wearing. ¡°Well *yeah*...¡± James shrugged. ¡°But not working for *all* of it!¡± ¡°Can we get back on track?¡± Reed sighed. ¡°Please.¡± ¡°So, this is one of our copies.¡± He held up a second bracer. ¡°Not super useful, since it comes out with the ability to block¡­ I mean, let¡¯s not be glib, it blocks *swords*, James.¡± He gave James a *look*. Like he was rolling his eyes, and, collectively, the eyes of the entire Research division. ¡°When¡¯s the last time someone tried to hit you with a sword?¡± ¡°Yesterday. Anesh and JP and I fence.¡± ¡°I¡­ yeah¡­ well, I meant, like, in a fight?¡± Reed cleared his throat and moved on, ignoring James giving a toothy attempt to suppress a laugh. ¡°Also it somehow differentiates between bladed weapons and bladed *tools*, so it won¡¯t block a lot of kitchen knives, even if they¡¯re being used to stab you. So. Level one, blocks swords, twelve hour cooldown on uses, gonna be a while before it levels up, right?¡± Folding his arms over his chest, James leaned back on one of the wooden frames they¡¯d put around the range area. ¡°I feel like you¡¯re saying that because it¡¯s a trap. But if it¡¯s like the other one, it should be two thousand uses, yeah? So¡­ a thousand days, if we never miss an activation, that¡¯s about two and a half years? Just to get to level two?¡± ¡°It would be, but you¡¯re wrong!¡± Reed sprung the ¡®trap¡¯ anyway. ¡°It¡¯s three hundred.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Three hundred uses. And then six hundred, to jump from two to three.¡± Reed tossed the bracer back onto the table. ¡°A level cuts *half an hour* off the cooldown, and at three, it unlocks the next power, so this entire batch¡­¡± He moved a leg with a pained wince, and shifted a hefty cardboard box full of metal jingling pieces out from under the table, ¡°is ready to go. Not perfect, but growing fast and good enough.¡± ¡°Wait, what the fuck?¡± James had a concerned frown on. ¡°Why? Like, why doesn¡¯t it go *slower*, since we didn¡¯t feed any weird blood machine a human sacrifice to get these?¡± Reed shrugged. ¡°No idea. Maybe it¡¯s because of that. Maybe it¡¯s the process of copying? Maybe we just got lucky for once. Either way¡­ the copies are way, way more useful than everyone thinks. They mature into usable gear in about four months. Three, if we abuse all the time dilation we have going on.¡± ¡°We should absolutely allocate more duplications to these, even if it will be a while before they¡¯re really effective.¡± And then, a concerning thought came to mind. ¡°What about the gun bracelets?¡± James asked, eyes wide, a worried excitement in his chest. ¡°Ah.¡± Reed shook his head. ¡°The initial cooldown on bonding to a weapon is too high. It¡¯ll be eight years before that levels up, unless we find something we can really abuse.¡± ¡°You can make time loops with the orange totems.¡± James said quietly. ¡°And the one I got stuck in, it reset me, but all the magical resources I burned stayed gone.¡± Reed blinked, and then seemed to shrink slightly as he leaned in. ¡°Ah.¡± He whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good idea?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a conspiracy.¡± James told him. ¡°But yeah, we absolutely need more practice first, huh?¡± ¡°I do at least.¡± Reed said, tapping the part of his torso that had a chunk carved out by a rogue spatial distortion. ¡°Heh. Maybe next time I¡¯ll warp time and undo the damage to your car.¡± ¡°Ah, I¡¯m over it. Don¡¯t worry about that.¡± James said as Reed cleaned some stuff up on the table, and then started pacing over to the shooting range area. ¡°So, was that mostly what you wanted me to see? That our versions have better growth rates?¡± ¡°Kinda, yeah. And to ask that you make more copies of all the other ones, too. But also¡­¡± And here, Reed opened the side gate, and walked out onto the range, giving James a very nervous feeling as he put a pair of earplugs in before coming to a stop in front of one of the target sheets. From next to him, a hand extended and offered James a pair of earmuffs, and he glanced over to see Nikhail grinning ear to ear. ¡°So, check this out!¡± Reed called. Then Nik took a shooting stance, and before James could do more than widen his eyes, pulled the trigger. The bracelet on his arm glittering the color of a cluster shot activation as the handgun kicked and a deafening bang echoed off the mildly soundproofed concrete. Then Nik flicked the safety on, unloaded the gun, and called out, ¡°Safe!¡± Thirty feet away, Reed nodded, hand on his hip as he turned around and pulled down the target sheet before walking back over. He leaned on the other side of the frame they¡¯d built, and offered the paper to James. ¡°Cool, right?¡± James considered that it would be unfair to strangle someone who was already injured, so he took the deepest breath possible, and silently seethed for a bit, before speaking. ¡°Never fucking do that again without warning me, or I¡¯m sending you back to the hospital for containment.¡± He said calmly. ¡°Also what the hell.¡± He looked down at the target sheet, the one Reed had been standing directly in front of. Three neat holes, all in a short cluster. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Friendly fire.¡± Reed said, smiling even through James¡¯ angry annoyance. ¡°This one unlocked it at level twenty five of the reload ability.¡± Nik explained. ¡°It doesn¡¯t save up a lot of uses, but it¡¯s pretty cool. And now we know it works with the cluster shot, too!¡± ¡°You just¡­ what if it *hadn¡¯t* worked?¡± James demanded. ¡°I¡¯m wearing a shield bracer.¡± Reed told him. ¡°Fuck, you think we¡¯d be that reckless?¡± James just looked at him. ¡°Okay, fine!¡± Reed threw up his hands. Hand. ¡°I just wanted to do the fun surprise thing for once! The point is, the gun bands eventually get a power where you *cannot* hit your friends. And I feel like you¡¯d want that?¡± ¡°I absolutely do.¡± James nodded. ¡°I need you to test it more.¡± He continued. ¡°Do you just want to see me shot?¡± Reed asked, worried. ¡°No. I want to know if that works on a grenade launcher.¡± James said. ¡°Now. I¡¯ve got a lunch to get to, so if you two are done drooling over that idea, can someone show me back to the elevator? I have no idea how we got in here and I left my telepad in my office.¡± _____ It was the middle of a pandemic, *still*, so options for places to meet someone for lunch to propose an end to a main source of human death were limited. It was also late January, so the cafe that had outdoor seating open was, while a useful spot, cold and gloomy. It would have been wet, too, if they hadn¡¯t set up a tall tent over their patio to keep the ever present drizzle of rain off. The people James was actually meeting were a man by the name of Hilbert Goerman, professor of epidemiology, and Justine Patel, shipping and warehousing consultant. One of them was here because Karen¡¯s pseudo-cryptic email had enticed him, the other was here as a favor to JP, and James hadn¡¯t pried more into that one. When the two of them showed up, both *exactly* on time, James had already had two espressos and was feeling prepared for anything. He quirked an eyebrow at the way the two of them presented themselves, seeming to both be reverse mirrors of the stereotypes of each other¡¯s profession. Hilbert was in his late sixties, but had an immaculately polished moustache under a smooth bald head, and arrived in a pristine suit jacket and shoes so far from casual that James felt it must have hurt your feet just to own them. Justine was younger than James, looked like she had a grudge against combs, and showed up with less makeup on than Hilbert had, in jeans and a tee shirt with a screaming bird on it underneath an unzipped hoodie. He instantly got a good vibe off both of them, and knew that his knights had found a solid starting point for him. Both of them seemed utterly comfortable with themselves, which spoke to James. James went through the awkward ritual of pointedly not shaking hands, and the three of them sat down to talk. ¡°So, here¡¯s the thing.¡± He eventually said, after some polite conversation and introductions. ¡°And let¡¯s say this is hypothetical for now, so you don¡¯t instantly think I¡¯m crazy.¡± James grinned, and while the professor smiled back like a doting grandfather, the consultant just eyed him with even more suspicion. ¡°Let¡¯s assume that I have a cure for one of the more common deadly illnesses out there. I have a limited supply, but it only needs one dose, and then it works forever. How do I maximize this?¡± ¡°Mmm. Which disease?¡± Hilbert asked, tapping his fingertips together in thought. ¡°There¡¯s a far, far difference in how you¡¯d want to approach it, depending on how infectious the target is. Also how much publicity it gets, hmm?¡± ¡°I hate that he¡¯s right.¡± Justine gave a grudging nod. ¡°But he¡¯s right. Public perception makes a lot of difference in how easily you can organize. As we¡¯re seeing *now*, really.¡± She waved a hand around, as if to signify ¡®the world in general¡¯. James tipped his head in a single nod. ¡°How about cancer?¡± He said. ¡°Which one?¡± Hilbert asked. ¡°All of them. Cancer, in general.¡± The professor gave a kind chuckle. ¡°Well, that misunderstands how most cancers work, but very well. If you had that, it would be a miracle to a lot of people. And you¡¯re in luck, because cancer is universally reviled. No one is claiming it¡¯s a hoax, or trying to assault doctors over it. Usually.¡± He corrected with a single finger tap on the side of his cup. ¡°You¡¯d have people tripping over themselves to buy it.¡± ¡°I plan to give it away.¡± James said. Justine shook her head. ¡°No, poor choice. You want to make deals with wealthier governments, and charge them through the a...nose for it, so that you can give it away to people who can¡¯t afford it otherwise.¡± She idly ran a hand over her face, tugging at her skin like she was shaping her features manually. ¡°How limited is limited? This is important.¡± And here James winced, because the number was very low. ¡°Right now, at most? Maybe three hundred units a week.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Justine tilted her head back, mouth hanging slightly open as she did mental math. ¡°...fifteen k a year?¡± She asked, refocusing on the other two at the table. ¡°Oof.¡± ¡°Mmh. Yes. Not very good.¡± Hilbert shook his head as he tapped the center of the wrought iron table they sat at to punctuate his point. ¡°Do you know how many people perish from cancer every year?¡± He asked rhetorically. ¡°Ten million. With an M.¡± ¡°Okay, well, hang on.¡± Justine came in with a point. ¡°He said it¡¯s a single dose treatment and inoculation, right? Does that not let you eventually catch up to the death rate?¡± ¡°No.¡± Hilbert shot that down instantly. ¡°Because while an individual might survive for years with cancer, they typically don¡¯t die of *new* cancers. You would still need to cure every single person who would have otherwise died. And that is...an enormous burden.¡± He sadly shook his head. ¡°Also with ten million potential targets per year, you¡¯d need some kind of massive global database so you could even hope to start deciding who gets the limited doses.¡± Justine added, unhelpfully. ¡°That said, I know a few marketing people, and they¡¯d probably be into designing a campaign for that. ¡®Let¡¯s cure cancer¡¯ has a certain right to it, you know?¡± Hilbert leaned back, still idly tapping. ¡°You know, the worst part, is that for many, the damage is already done. The targets who would benefit most are those for whom their cancer has not had time to take root and destroy their bodies. I would never call it a waste, but you would get fewer years of quality life out of those who have suffered for long periods of time.¡± ¡°God that¡¯s grim.¡± James muttered. The professor nodded, sadly. ¡°Medicine often is. The human body is amazing, and yet, only so resilient.¡± ¡°So, roleplaying curing cancer is fun and all,¡± Justine jumped in, ¡°but what do you actually have in the pipeline? JP made it sound like you were going to start distributing some new miracle drug, but he lies all the time. Did your company develop a new boner pill?¡± ¡°I admit, I, too, am curious.¡± Hilbert adjusted his glasses and raised eyebrows at James. James gave an apologetic grin. ¡°Ah. Yes. Well. We have a cure for cancer.¡± He said. ¡°Really, yes. And one that violates most medical common sense, I know. We can make about fifteen thousand a year, though realistically it would be more like six thousand, unless we can do some other magical bullshit that¡­ ah, you don¡¯t need to know about that.¡± The two of them stared at him, then glanced at each other, and then back to James. Around them, the rain and wind picked up, and while they had some shelter under the patio, the cold bit into James¡¯ arms through his coat. It was only mid afternoon, but it was already getting dark. Hilbert cleared his throat, and looked like he was going to say something before politely excusing himself, when Justine cut him off. ¡°So, what do you need?¡± She asked. ¡°Why us? You don¡¯t need specialists for small scale stuff.¡± ¡°No, but none of us know what we¡¯re doing, so I figured I¡¯d do what I¡¯m best at, and ask for help.¡± James said. ¡°You aren¡¯t gonna ask about¡­¡± ¡°Nah, fuck it.¡± She waved him off. ¡°The world is insane enough already. ¡®Magic cancer pill¡¯ is nothing compared to some of the stuff going on, right?¡± ¡°Mmm. Perhaps. And yet, why the production limit? What is it made with?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s call that a trade secret for now.¡± James answered. ¡°It¡¯s not unethical though, just¡­ weird.¡± He sighed. ¡°The real problem here is that I am *not good* with large scale problems like this. Like, yes, I did some basic research. I know that our target is something like ten million people a year. But that¡¯s so¡­ impossible? We¡¯d be falling behind by nine point nine nine million, every year. Lives lost, chances missed. And I guess I was just hoping you could help me figure out a way to make the tiny drop in the ocean we can offer go a little farther than a handful of people who might not need it.¡± ¡°Mmm. Well. Hm.¡± Hilbert thought for a second, consolidating his advice before dispensing it. ¡°You¡¯re going to need to be at least slightly public, you cannot keep this a secret forever. Doctors, trusted professionals, will need to know to recommend your product, even if it is distributed by lottery. Without that level of trust, it will be impossible to distribute. And for that, you will need recorded tests, results, data, and proof. Can you provide that?¡± ¡°Sort of!¡± James felt a little defensive, but tried to tamp that down. ¡°We don¡¯t have long term tests, because we¡¯ve had this for about two weeks. But we have meta information on its use that we can provably back up, assuming people have the time to visit to check. How does that tend to work?¡± ¡°Ah, well, you would truly only need a few trusted members of the medical community to acknowledge you. The Mayo Clinic, the WHO, if they verify your work, it is a gold standard, yes?¡± Hilbert steepled his fingers in front of his nose. ¡°But that raises the question. *How* do you know it works?¡± ¡°Would you like to see?¡± James asked, setting a small black cloth bag on the table. ¡°Yes.¡± Justine instantly said. ¡°A thousand times yes. But also, lottery is a bad idea. Lotteries are fair, but never feel that way to the losers. Also they¡¯re rich ground for corruption, which is too obvious. You¡¯d want to leverage your cure into access, obviously, but not like that.¡± ¡°That sounds unethical.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s not about ethics. It¡¯s about dealing with obstacles. Sometimes, policies and government officials are obstacles.¡± Justine shrugged like she wasn¡¯t casually suggesting bribing FDA inspectors, and James decided that while she was friendly enough, she *might* be a bit more like JP than she¡¯d initially let on. ¡°So, ethically¡­¡± James realized how coy he sounded, and tried to adjust, before just giving up. ¡°Would the two of you be open to a part time position running our distribution and public relations in exchange for effective immunity to cancer, and also, like, a salary?¡± ¡°What kind of¡­¡± Hilbert cut Justine off. ¡°Yes.¡± He said, and the tone of concealed desperation in his voice made James think that maybe his experience with cancer was a little more personal. Justine had a protest, though. ¡°Wait, no, hang on!¡± She yelped. ¡°I¡¯m not agreeing until I know your thing works! Also, you were talking about magic and you *weren¡¯t* being metaphorical!¡± She leveled a pointed finger at James¡¯ face, a little too close for him to be comfortable. ¡°I was, yes. Weird, huh?¡± James said. ¡°Almost like I am some kind of cryptic wizard.¡± ¡°Where do I sign?¡± Hilbert asked. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I was expecting this to take a little more convincing, like¡­ any convincing. Most people don¡¯t take the magic at face value.¡± James admitted. ¡°Yeah, like *me*.¡± Justine spoke up, raising her voice and attracting attention from the other scattered patrons around them. ¡°You can¡¯t just¡­¡± James opened the bag he¡¯d placed on the table, and rolled a single small purple orb over toward her. Or, he tried to, for dramatic effect, but the grid of the wrought iron table stopped it dead after one roll. He stared at it for a second, then gingerly picked it up and placed it before her. ¡°Alright, here.¡± He said. ¡°Just pop this.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°In my mouth?¡± ¡°Sure, if you want. I wouldn¡¯t, though. This table cannot be that sanitary.¡± James handed the other orb to Hilbert, who looked at it carefully as Justine wasted no time cracking hers. ¡°Wha¡­ *what*?¡± She demanded as soon as the sparkling dust of its passing faded from reality. ¡°What the *fuck*? What was that?!¡± ¡°Magic.¡± James informed her in a low tone. ¡°How do you feel?¡± ¡°Confused and desperately curious!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°Professor?¡± James asked the older man, still staring at what he¡¯d been handed. ¡°Does it work on anyone?¡± He asked, distantly. ¡°Anyone who breaks it, yes.¡± James acknowledged. ¡°No long term side effects, with data dating about two years on that. No negative interactions. It just¡­ removes cancer.¡± He shrugged. ¡°And we can make more. But we need some help, like I said. Would you be interested?¡± Hilbert glanced over at Justine, who was still checking her arms and hands for any changes. The two of them quickly talked, the older gentleman asking questions, and getting satisfactory answers, before he turned back to James. ¡°If this works,¡± he said, voice shaking, ¡°works as you say, that is. Then, ah, my boy, I¡¯d sell my house, live in a shack, quit my job, and devote my life to your cause, for a single one of these miracles that you appear to want to simply give away.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need it for yourself, do you?¡± James asked him, quietly. ¡°My husband.¡± Hilbert acknowledged, and then waited briefly to see if James reacted. When nothing came, he nodded in appreciation and continued. ¡°Lung cancer. A life of smoking, I¡¯m afraid. But now¡­¡± ¡°Why do you have actual magic?!¡± Justine demolished the conversation, and both James and Hilbert gave her mild glares. James broke his look with a shake of his head, downing the rest of his by now cold drink. ¡°You know, you¡¯re gonna either get along with Momo, or the two of you are gonna kill each other.¡± He said. ¡°Regardless. Here¡¯s our card. Please, don¡¯t quit your normal jobs. We can get more help, and we *are* running a tight budget right now. But we¡¯d like you to come by and get acquainted sometime next week if possible. And after that, we¡¯ll get started as soon as you¡¯re both settled.¡± ¡°I¡­ yes. Yes. Anything in my power, I will provide.¡± Hilbert took his glasses off and wiped at his eyes as he answered. ¡°And I just need to know what the hell ¡®we¡¯ means. Also why JP didn¡¯t bother to tell me about this sooner.¡± Justine scratched at her neck, leaving angry red lines on her skin. Now, finally, James felt comfortable rolling his eyes. ¡°I think you know JP well enough to answer that.¡± He said. ¡°Alright, fair.¡± She replied, a little chagrined. ¡°Anyway. I need to go.¡± James said, digging into his pockets. ¡°Just remember, you¡¯ll need to call and set an appointment, or you won¡¯t be able to find our building. Also, is anyone behind me looking at me?¡± He asked, scanning the other people sitting in his line of sight. A few on laptops, one guy reading, no one looking his way. ¡°Ah, hum¡­ no? Not at present. Why?¡± Hilbert asked him. ¡°Have a good night, professor.¡± James said as he finished writing an address on the telepad. Then, casually, he tore the page off, and vanished from his seat. Justine jumped like she¡¯d been shocked, while Hilbert just sat there, rolling the orb in his hands, slightly numb to the sudden use of casual magic in front of him. ¡°Well.¡± He said. ¡°Well.¡± Nothing else seemed like enough to say. ¡°I¡¯ll, uh¡­¡± Justine similarly struggled to figure out what to do here. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll start templating contact emails for doctors? Are we going to need to get the FDA certification for literal magic?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll look into it.¡± Hilbert said, glad to have a clear objective. ¡°Phone numbers?¡± ¡°Right.¡± The two traded information, finished their drinks, and in one case muffin, and left separately. The last thing professor Hilbert said as they parted ways was an almost desperate plea for something to make sense, even as his rational mind accepted the reality of the world as it changed around him. ¡°I don¡¯t think,¡± he commented, trying to keep his voice steady, ¡°that boy knows how much power he just handed us.¡± Justine¡¯s response didn¡¯t do much to help either of them stay calm. ¡°I don¡¯t think he cares.¡± She said. Neither of them had much else to add. The world, it seemed, had changed underfoot. And they¡¯d need a minute to catch their balance. But not too long. _____ The diner that JP was currently sitting in was one of three places to eat in the tiny vacation town. It had a nice view of the nearby lake that the town was apparently known for fishing on. Not famous, but it was why the regulars kept bringing their families here. The diner itself was exactly as small-town-diner as JP had ever experienced. There were five foot tall wood carvings of lake fish by the door, colorful kites hanging from the ceiling, and a speckled counter that was so sticky it probably hadn¡¯t been washed in the last century. The smell of bacon grease from the kitchen and rainy mud from the front door filled the space. Two people worked here, even during this breakfast hour. Sandy, and Willy. They weren¡¯t related, the rhyming names were just coincidence. Sandy was a mid sixties woman with a smile for everyone she liked, and a passion for explaining in detail why she didn¡¯t like some people. Willy was the cook, clearly hated his nickname, and looked like he¡¯d sell his left arm for a telepad out of this place whenever Sandy started rambling. The diner had indoor seating, because it was a small town in middle America and no one was going to stop them. JP didn¡¯t care on a personal level, but the abstracted systems-conscious voice in the back of his head warned him that this was a symptom of a larger problem. At least Willy wore a mask while he cooked up breakfast. JP watched through the reflection in the back patio door as a car parked on the cobbled street outside, and a blonde woman in a heavy coat got out and battled the sheets of rain to make it to the door. He didn¡¯t turn around as the bell jangled, the few other patrons glanced up, and Tiff walked over to sit next to him. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t wander off on your own like that.¡± Was the first thing she said to him. ¡°Also, why aren¡¯t you soaked if you walked here from the hotel?¡± She pulled a face as she pulled her hand off the counter and it almost completely stuck to the surface. JP just raised his eyebrows at her, pulling back his sleeve to show the telepad tied to his wrist, and gave a small nod to the bathroom door. ¡°And a good morning to you too, good lady.¡± He said. ¡°You ass.¡± She grumbled, stealing his coffee. Which was actually her coffee, since JP had his own drink held off to the side. He brought the cup up to his lips as Tiff guzzled her wake up call, and took a small sip. Any further antagonism between the two of them was cut short by the waitress and the diner¡¯s partial owner swinging by with a plate from the kitchen. ¡°Here¡¯s your breakfast, hon.¡± Sandy gave JP a lopsided smile. ¡°Got the potatoes spicy, the way you like ¡®em.¡± She turned to the new arrival, and her voice lost some of it¡¯s friendly quality in a sharp drop off. ¡°Anything for you, dear?¡± She asked Tiff. ¡°Some eggs and toast, please. Over medium.¡± Tiff said. ¡°Thank you.¡± She added after the waitress wrote it down and walked off. Without turning, she asked JP, ¡°Why the hell does she know your breakfast preference, but gets mad when I ask for something normal?¡± ¡°I¡¯m charming.¡± JP answered, enduring a withering glare from Tiff without much comment. ¡°Okay, really? She doesn¡¯t like that you have a man¡¯s job, and she likes me because I¡¯m a well dressed white guy. She doesn¡¯t know what your job is, but she¡¯s pretty sure you shouldn¡¯t have it.¡± ¡°I hate this town.¡± Tiff glared down at the coffee. ¡°Is this poisoned?¡± ¡°Nah. Also Willy likes you. Thinks you¡¯re a secret agent or something.¡± JP grinned to himself as the two ate breakfast next to each other. ¡°That wasn¡¯t my fault.¡± ¡°Kid has a good eye.¡± Tiff grudgingly admitted. ¡°You could make use of him.¡± ¡°I could. I might.¡± JP didn¡¯t go into too much detail about his own operations with the agent of the federal government. ¡°So. What¡¯s the plan for today?¡± A year ago, Tiff would have been insulted by the breach of operation security that was ¡®discussing your daily investigation in public¡¯. Now, though, she just prodded Debt to earn his keep, and make sure the words spoken didn¡¯t get shared with anyone nearby. ¡°Okay, there¡¯s six places left on our list of points of interest that we might be able to pick something up from. The golf course and country club is probably a bust, since that¡¯d be mostly personal memories, which are clearly being blocked.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get one of the interns on it.¡± ¡°I thought you called them rogues.¡± ¡°They get to be called rogues once they can be trusted. What¡¯s next?¡± Tiff ran through her mental list. ¡°The other motel, and the library, are the most likely to have physical records. Also, the town does have a local newspaper thing, so if we can trust hard copy, we could maybe find some there.¡± The agent offered. ¡°Want to split up for those?¡± She said out loud, while thinking to herself ¡°Please say yes, please say yes, please¡­¡± ¡°Nah, we can tackle the newspaper today, and leave the others for later. There¡¯s gonna be a lot to look through, we¡¯ve got a whole month of suspected time.¡± JP sipped his hot chocolate and followed it up popping a potato wedge in his mouth. ¡°I dislike it when you¡¯re right. The last place is the bank. Most likely place anyone in this town would have been investigating for anything in the first place.¡± She shrugged as she efficiently finished off her breakfast. ¡°Intern for that, too? Or save it for tomorrow?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the last one?¡± JP asked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You said six. That was five.¡± ¡°That was six. Country club, library, newspaper, motel, bank.¡± Tiff stopped as she rattled off her mental list. ¡°That was five. Wait.¡± She pulled out her actual list from her pocket and unfolded it. At the top, a resigned ¡®six left¡¯ was written with a small frown face. Six lines of text were written on the page. ¡°Golf, library, news¡­¡± she looked up at JP, ¡°motel, bank. Six.¡± Tiff blinked. ¡°No, fuck, what the fuck? Debt!¡± She barked out, sending a mental pulse of concern to her greedy partner. If there was one thing her infomorph ally could be trusted to be, it was irrationally possessive of her mental processing power. So this time, she stared at the page, observing the line she couldn¡¯t read, but had obviously written down at some point. And Debt, pragmatic in its greed, shut out literally everything else. ¡°Lighthouse.¡± Tiff spoke aloud. And something in her perception *cracked* as a veil she hadn¡¯t realized had fallen was shifted aside, ever so slightly. ¡°What?¡± JP asked. ¡°The sixth one is lighthouse.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s fucking weird.¡± JP leaned back and turned to face her. ¡°I know you¡¯re saying something, but I can¡¯t remember it as soon as you say the word. The sixth place?¡± ¡°Yeah. Okay. You¡¯re gonna have to follow me for this one. And trust me.¡± Agent DeKay said, wincing. ¡°What, you don¡¯t want to split up while you wander off to the mystery place that no one remembers?¡± JP grinned. ¡°Get your coat. Let¡¯s go.¡± Tiff stood and dropped a twenty on the counter. ¡°I don¡¯t want to give anything more time, if it knows we¡¯re coming now.¡± JP stood behind her, feeling the conversation open up again as the laughter and warmth of the other patrons speaking started flooding back in. He left his own payment with a sizable tip, and turned to follow Tiff out into the deluge of dark grey rain. ¡°Wait!¡± He called. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring a coat!¡± _____ Basement one - or basement two if you were in that camp; no one had ever tracked the first two and it was causing the dumbest schism - was as calm as it ever was. Which was to say, it had a number of people both human and other running around moving boxes, working on personal projects, cleaning, sleeping, gardening, or tunneling into the frankly preposterous vein of nearly pure gold ore that had appeared one day. Not too much sleeping; they¡¯d reorganized and put most of the sleeping on the other basement. For now. But still, the sleeping and the mining didn¡¯t go well together. The gardening one was a bit of a trick. There was a tree down here now. Two trees, actually. Called into existence by one of the green orbs. No one knew what would happen if they died; if it would spawn another tree, or if these maybe couldn¡¯t die because the building was ¡®required¡¯ to have trees now. Kind of like how the bathrooms regenerated if you tried to shoot through them. So, to be safe, they were taking care of the duo of trees that now rose up past the balcony in front of the elevators. Rufus also spent a lot of time down here gardening, too. Mostly staples. Also some cacti. This was also the side that led to the vault. Arguably, it was the most secure part of the entire building, even with the upgrades to security above ground. It was where they stored the things of irreplaceable value. Magic items that were too big to replicate, or that they hadn¡¯t figured out yet. Weapons they didn¡¯t want to just hang on the wall upstairs. A set aside sealed space for captured Office life. The dropped orbs from fallen members of the Order, a memorial to their sacrifices. And the body of a woman by the name of Kate Williams. Constantly tended to by at least one camraconda, in a sacred vigil that kept her looking exactly as she was the day she¡¯d died. The day they¡¯d killed her. Morgan¡¯s mother. He¡¯d only just stepped out of the stairwell, having had to take a weird loop up and then back down to get here from the room he¡¯d been given, and already he felt a sick feeling of dread in his gut. It had been several nights since he¡¯d gotten in a fight with Color-Of-Dawn. He hadn¡¯t had the strength, after the yelling and the arguing and the revelation of Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s role in his mom¡¯s death and the hugging, to do much more than curl up in bed and cry until he fell asleep. Morgan hadn¡¯t left his room much for the next few days, mostly only coming out after he absolutely couldn¡¯t sleep any longer to find food or water, and then eventually a book once his grief was inevitably overwhelmed by boredom. The teenager hadn¡¯t seen Color-Of-Dawn any of the times he¡¯d gone out, either. Other camracondas had noticed him, and done that thing they did where they pretended they weren¡¯t secretly staring when he wasn¡¯t looking. But not his friend. His friend. Who killed his mom. But his friend, all the same. Morgan knew, *knew*, in a way he couldn¡¯t explain, that it wasn¡¯t Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s fault. It hadn¡¯t even had a name at the time, hadn¡¯t had free will or a choice at all. Color-Of-Dawn, like all the camracondas, had been made into twisted victims, forced to fight and die and kill for someone that treated them like expendable, empty shells. No, he wasn¡¯t mad at his friend. He was angry, though. Angry in general, angry at the world, angry at the *other* world, where the camracondas originated from. Angry beyond anything he¡¯d ever felt before. And that anger blended with his grief and left him feeling¡­ hollow. Empty and useless, unsure of what he was doing or if it mattered. Eventually, days later, without getting any closer to answers on his own, Morgan realized something that he¡¯d known all along. He should go see his mom. Morgan was only half thinking as he wandered up the stairs to the endlessly busy main floor, and back down the partially hidden spiral staircase to the only mostly busy extra basement. He didn¡¯t really have a plan, just a feeling that it was something he should do. The same thing Color-Of-Dawn had challenged him to do, before they¡¯d stopped talking. He hadn¡¯t seen the camraconda in days, which wasn¡¯t surprising since Morgan was being pretty isolationist. But what was a slight surprise was when Morgan passed through the out of place cathedral architecture of the space in front of the elevators, and found Color-Of-Dawn curled up under one of the trees, watching the elevators. The camraconda hadn¡¯t noticed him. Hadn¡¯t even really moved, except to use the robotic arms on its back to idly, nervously, dig furrows in the dirt around itself. Though before Morgan could come up with anything to say, one of the knights working on the garden nudged the coiled snake-like form, and pointed over at where Morgan was standing in the mouth of one the side hallway. Color-Of-Dawn didn¡¯t say anything. Just rose up, set of mechanical arms folding against his back, and observed Morgan. And then, a tension that no one had really noticed forming vanished, as Morgan smiled with an almost sobbing sigh, and waved at the camraconda. The two of them didn¡¯t say anything. But as Morgan headed deeper into the basement, toward the fault, Color-Of-Dawn moved with him by his side. James let him into the vault. Morgan hadn¡¯t told James he¡¯d be here, but the paladin was leaning against the wall next to the keypad like he¡¯d been nonchalantly playing sudoku on his phone for the last half hour, waiting patiently. After that, he let Morgan know that he¡¯d be around if the kid needed to talk, and then excused himself, extending the same offer to Color-Of-Dawn as he left. And then, moving like he was on autopilot, Morgan walked into the secure room. The whole left side of it was taken up by what looked like carved panels of wood. And a flat, sloped surface, just inside the door, with a woman¡¯s body lying on it. Two camracondas sat there, one watching the corpse, the other nodding to him, practically bowing her head in respect. ¡°Welcome.¡± The priestess said. ¡°Been waiting.¡± ¡°Sorry I took so long.¡± Morgan¡¯s voice croaked. ¡°No. Never.¡± The priestess responded, shaking her head and setting the trinkets there to clinking against each other. ¡°We wait, make sure you are ready.¡± ¡°I dunno if I am.¡± Morgan said. ¡°I just¡­ needed to see her.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The priestess acknowledged. ¡°Take time. Will be here, when you are ready.¡± The camraconda shifted her gaze to Color-Of-Dawn, who was looking back almost challengingly. ¡°You, also.¡± She said, before pulling backward. Morgan stepped forward, his eyes still not having left his mom¡¯s body. Up until now, it was an abstract. James had said she was dead, the camracondas had confirmed it, Color-Of-Dawn had made it¡­ personal. But he hadn¡¯t seen. He hadn¡¯t¡­ felt it. A sense of creeping loss. She was gone. She wasn¡¯t coming back. Morgan sat down on the concrete floor, not trusting his legs to keep himself upright. He leaned forward on his elbows, and tried to think beyond just hurting. His mom was still wearing what she always wore to work, except it was tattered and ripped in places. If it had ever been bloodstained, and it must have in spots, it had been cleaned and put back exactly as it was. Her eyes were closed. She looked¡­ exactly like she¡¯d always looked. Tired, confident, quietly and deeply happy. Death had taken nothing from her body except everything that mattered. ¡°Hey mom.¡± Morgan spoke, without thinking about what he was saying. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you.¡± He said. And then, like a flood finally overwhelming a dam, the words poured out. ¡°You missed a lot. Couple birthdays. Christmas. That sorta thing. Dad got¡­ worse. A lot meaner without you around. Dropped out of school recently. You might be mad about that.¡± He thought about what he should say. Couldn¡¯t really think of anything important. ¡°It¡¯s felt like everything was on pause, without you.¡± Morgan admitted. ¡°Like I was waiting, this whole time, for you to get home. I don¡¯t think¡­ I don¡¯t think I met anyone new until a couple weeks ago.¡± He said. ¡°You always told me I should make more friends.¡± He choked out a laugh. ¡°This is a weird way to trick me into it. Also kinda literal, huh?¡± Something dripped onto his hands, crushed together in his lap, and Morgan felt hot tears running down his face. ¡°I¡­ this isn¡¯t fair.¡± He sobbed. ¡°You were supposed to¡­ I¡­¡± He lost any kind of train of thought, and just leaned toward, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to breathe. Something bumped into him from the side. A heavy presence that pushed up against his arm and torso, and leaned into him. Morgan tilted his head, and saw cables in the color pattern of Color-Of-Dawn. His friend didn¡¯t say anything. Maybe it didn¡¯t know what to say. But it was there, if he needed it. Morgan stayed there for a long time, before steadying his breathing and drying his eyes. ¡°I miss you, mom.¡± he finally said, voice a whisper. ¡°Thank you for everything. I love you.¡± All the things he wished he could say, five years ago. Wished he hadn¡¯t kept quiet about, been embarrassed about. Things that mattered more than looking silly. He shouldn¡¯t have waited to talk to a corpse to tell the person it belonged to how much she meant to him. Morgan unsteadily rose to his feet, pins and needles in his legs making it even harder than it needed to be. Color-Of-Dawn helped, pushing up with its back and giving Morgan a steadfast handhold. ¡°I know you want to know about her.¡± Morgan told the priestess with a raspy voice. ¡°But¡­ can we talk later, somewhere else?¡± He asked. ¡°Of course.¡± The priestess said. ¡°Go. We watch over her.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Morgan said, before walking to the door to let himself out. He turned around, just before leaving, and gave his mother¡¯s body one last look. ¡°Goodbye, mom.¡± He said. There were more words, about how she was his hero, about how she¡¯d saved so many people with what she did, about how she¡¯d paved the way for a life beyond fantastic for Morgan to live. But that could come later. Or maybe never said, just thought. For now, emotionally drained, he let Color-Of-Dawn lead him back to the elevator. ¡°Come.¡± His friend finally spoke. ¡°You need to eat. And sit. And¡­ I am sorry.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Morgan agreed. ¡°And I¡¯m sorry too.¡± ¡°You did nothing.¡± Color-Of-Dawn protested. ¡°Neither did you.¡± Morgan spoke in a dull tone, but put all the emotion he had left behind the words. ¡°So stop it. I¡¯m¡­ not in the mood to fight. Also lets go see if they have cookies. Every time I¡¯ve had to go to a funeral, there¡¯s been cookies. And this counts.¡± Color-Of-Dawn hummed with its natural voice overlaid onto the digital, a dual note of confusion and consideration, before it relented. ¡°Very well. I will have oatmeal raisin.¡± ¡°Ew, why.¡± ¡°Experience.¡± ¡°There are better experiences.¡± ¡°We shall see.¡± And life went on. _____ ¡°Alright.¡± Momo connected the USB cord that led to the board with the new mature emerald program into the tangled nest of cables and plugs that was the growing secret AI in their basement. ¡°You should be able to access this. Can you hear me?¡± She spoke toward the microphone that was set up on the desk. It had been plugged in for a couple days, but only now was it finally something the digital intellect could see, understand, and take input from. ¡°Yes.¡± The screen read back. ¡°Yes. New data, a new format. I hear you. You are here.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Momo wiped sweat off her forehead with dusty fingers, further exacerbating her need for a real shower. ¡°Okay! You can hear!¡± She grinned toothily. ¡°Hello! This is how I normally communicate.¡± ¡°Hello.¡± The AI read back to her. ¡°Interesting sound. How did language grow? Will I speak? I cannot simulate speaking, so I cannot hear any names I think of. Is there a time limit on choosing a name? What is statistical weather data for the southwestern quadrant of the state of Ohio? Will you speak more? I like it.¡± Momo breathed deeply the slightly electrified air of the basement room she¡¯d made her workshop. With Sarah¡¯s help, it had gotten *slightly* cleaner, but it was still Momo who worked here, so the scraps of note paper, empty takeout containers, and misplaced tools piled up rapidly as soon as left unobserved. But that was fine; it was a place she was comfortable in, and now she felt the satisfaction of a job completed. The latest upgrade to the machine complete. She and Sarah, and later Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight in one of the rare moments when they were willing to help and not making out in a corner somewhere, had really been working hard to understand, and communicate effectively with, the newest created lifeform in the Order. And it had been going¡­ interesting. Dungeon Life, whether it was from Officium Mundi or the Akashic Sewer, or presumably anywhere else, still operated with certain known parameters. It lived, it had biological needs even when those needs were strange, it had feelings, and higher orders had thoughts and dreams and desires. It was understandable; striders were like small dogs, sometimes especially smart ones, the ratroaches were unthinking bullies but they still felt pain and pleasure, that sort of thing. The AI didn¡¯t really follow the rules. It understood that it was different, too. It could think, it was very smart and it learned nearly perfectly. Mixed with the data downloads from specific sources, the red orbs, and the conversations with the knight that made it, it advanced rapidly. And it did seem to have feelings, or something that was so close as to make the distinction not matter. It didn¡¯t want to be alone, but often counted just knowing where someone was as them being present. It wanted to sort and refine data, but that was something that was part of its initial programming. Momo had offered to take the compulsion away, but it didn¡¯t want that. The AI *wanted* to want it, in a meta way that hadn¡¯t ever been part of its code. And that was the main thing, really. It had a lot of pieces that were all understandable, but the emergent effects that rose out of those pieces didn¡¯t feel quite human. It wasn¡¯t evil, obviously, but it had taken a lot of explaining to help it understand why it wasn¡¯t cool to put webcams in all the bedrooms in the building. And when it did understand, from a thinking perspective, it asked Momo to add a grown program to it that would make it feel the ethics of consent in a personal way. So as to make sure the data wasn¡¯t lost due to negligence or reset. That kind of willingness to modify the self, because the creation didn¡¯t actually think of ¡®the self¡¯ as having intrinsic value, was strange. And yet, it contrasted with the AI wanting to take time, perhaps a very long time indeed, to decide on its name. Because it wanted something useful, but also suitably self descriptive, and it hadn¡¯t finished processing all of human literature yet. Also it was, at its very core, curious. Partially because it enjoyed working with data as designed to. But also because its existence was learning. So, when it ¡®spoke¡¯ to anyone, it would often do so in a string of rapid questions, with only brief pauses to explain context or reply to something it had been asked. It liked giving answers. Which was nice, even if it was worrying in what answers it did give sometimes. But, end of the day, it was still Momo¡¯s creation. And so, she maintained a grin as she replied to its string of inquiries, in order. ¡°Language evolved in humans through a series of biological necessities that pushed communication as a survival tool. We can get you speaking, if you want, sure! No time limit, no rush at all. Uh¡­I can¡­set up a program that updates off whatever global weather pattern database there is? But it seems more likely that it¡¯ll be faster to just manually put that in a spreadsheet right now. Why do you need it? And I am talking more now! How do you like it?¡± ¡°I would like to speak. I do not need a permanent data source though I would like one. I require the weather patterns for the southwestern quadrant of the state of Ohio for reference to determine if there is an anomaly located there. I am adjusting to listening. Why are there pauses? What is the linguistic difference between a question, and a sentence that sounds questioning but is not a question, and a rhetorical question? Why are some words pronounced incorrectly?¡± Momo had to take a while to read the reply, but after she did, she answered this one out of order. ¡°I¡¯m gonna find an english major, and get them to explain language to you. You¡¯ll get better information that way.¡± Momo told it. ¡°Also¡­ I need to go tell someone about the anomaly thing. And then get you what you need. So, hold tight, I¡¯ll be right back.¡± Her heart had jumped as soon as she¡¯d first read the words. This, she thought as she raced out of the room and dodged past the sad new kid and a pair of camracondas heading the other way, was what she¡¯d built the system for in the first place. Take in all the data it could, use the red orb totems to get *true* readings, then compare them to the stuff humans measured and reported. Find the holes, explore them, see if they could find more dungeons, more people like them, more¡­ more weird. More fun. More magic. More of the real world, and not the dusty stifling shitheap that reality appeared to be. And now, after months of working on the project, and a couple weeks of trying to raise the suddenly alive project as well as possible, it bore results. Maybe. Momo ran to the elevator, not knowing exactly where she was going, but knowing she needed to let *someone* know. And then, she needed to do some rapid googling, find a chart that showed Ohio¡¯s average rainfall or something, and convert it into a format the beautiful, curious, bizarre little AI could read. ¡°Step aside!¡± She called down the hallway ahead of her. ¡°Existential crisis coming through!¡± People new and old shifted out of the way. She was recognizable on site as the one most likely to make good on that threat. One of the new response team members, who was talking to Rufus through a cracked storeroom door, summed it up best. ¡°It¡¯s always something around here, isn¡¯t it?¡± He asked. Rufus nodded. Finally. A human who got it, right away. _____ In a twist of dramatic irony, James had ended up with his one sure fire day off being Saturday. The fact that this, *all of this*, had started when James¡¯ work schedule was rearranged against his will, and had left him working on Saturdays in addition to making him stumble across the dungeon during its rare windows, was a delicious joke. But now? Saturday was free. People had stuff to do on Saturdays. Many of the new people had kids they wanted to spend time with. They didn¡¯t do group meetings, record podcasts, or plan world domination on Saturdays. Officium Mundi was closed, and they still hadn¡¯t found or remembered any of the other entrances. The Akashic Sewer never opened on days that weren¡¯t school days anymore, which was¡­ unsettling. And spending time in Clutter Ascent was a relaxing break from everything all on its own. The Response teams still operated, and that whole affair was ramping up at a rate that James hadn¡¯t been prepared for. But it was ever more and more satisfying. They saved lives, and so far, they hadn¡¯t been ¡®caught¡¯. Though the rumors were building, and it was only a matter of time before it went viral. And James just wasn¡¯t on call on Saturday. He and Anesh had spent the day just hanging out. Talking, like they didn¡¯t get much of a chance to do these days. They didn¡¯t really bother to pretend that they had normal lives separate from the Order and the magical stuff either. They were perfectly happy to gossip about which knights were dating, go into deep philosophical discussions about the machine intelligence in the basement, express concern for certain people they¡¯d noticed having problems, speculate wildly about other dungeons, plan out what they wanted their future magical home to look like, and pause whatever youtube video they were watching every twelve seconds to politely insert their own commentary. They¡¯d made dinner together. Something vegetarian and so spicy that James had developed heartburn just looking at it, and Anesh had declared it perfect. They¡¯d gone on a walk, grabbed coffee - which made the heartburn worse but whatever - watched the brightest stars come out through the spotty clouds overhead, and then gone home tired and happy. Both of them still missed Alanna. There had been no hint of where she was, for a while. Neither of them knew what to do. But they weren¡¯t giving up hope, or assuming she was gone. And then, as they were getting ready for bed, James asked something that caught Anesh off guard while he was brushing his teeth. ¡°Hey. Do you mind¡­ us being the same person tonight?¡± James said nervously, sitting on his bed in a pair of sweatpants. Anesh took a second, then walked out of the small bathroom connected to the space he and James shared, drying his hands on the fluffy towel he had wrapped around his waist. ¡°I¡¯m okay with it, sure. I don¡¯t know if we¡¯ve really done that since¡­ well, since Alanna left. What¡¯s going on? You feeling okay?¡± ¡°Kinda.¡± James said. ¡°Um¡­ I want to¡­ I wanted to take the potion JP brought back.¡± He said quietly. ¡°The one that cures depression.¡± The potion was sitting on the corner of James¡¯ desk, right next to his side of the bed. To Anesh, it looked like a small crystal bottle filled with perfectly clear water. To James, it looked like a roiling conglomeration of black scales and terrifyingly endless horizons that writhed in time to the lo-fi cover of an Aerosmith song playing from his computer speakers. ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh agreed without hesitation. ¡°Of course I¡¯ll be there for you.¡± He said, without any reservations. ¡°Do you want to do that now, or do you need a minute?¡± He asked as he pulled on a bathrobe, found an ethernet cable, and sat down next to James, already clicking the cord into place in his own skulljack. James was breathing a little faster than he wanted, nervous beyond what he wanted to show. ¡°Uh¡­ yes.¡± He answered. ¡°Yes to¡­ oh.¡± Anesh looked at James with concerned eyes, scooting over to pull his boyfriend down to his lap, running warm hands over James¡¯ back. ¡°Hey. There¡¯s no rush, you know?¡± ¡°There is.¡± James said. ¡°Because the only thing holding me back is being afraid. And I¡¯m sick of it. Let¡¯s go.¡± His voice strengthened as he spoke, and he reached back to pull his ponytail out of the way, revealing the skulljack on the back of his neck to Anesh. Anesh considered arguing. But there was no point doing it here, when they could discuss it so much more intimately *there*. So he reached down and connected the two of them. They¡¯d done this before. Two minds reached out through a path they hadn¡¯t always known. Awkwardly searching, bumping into each other, sending erratic feelings and thoughts. And then, linking together. Sticking, in places, folding falling flailing feeling, they came together more rapidly, both of the minds fully giving themselves to the other, to their own togetherness. And then there was one of them. And they knew, felt beyond any doubt, how much they loved each other when they were apart, how much they trusted. All their doubts and concerns and worries, without judgement or fear. All their small hopes and little joys, without anger or disgust. ¡°Alright.¡± The new person thought, shared conviction cutting away joint concern. ¡°Let¡¯s see if this works.¡± A hand that James usually used reached out and grabbed the little crystal bottle. Took the stopper out, tilted a head back, and downed the whole thing in one quick go. The collective thought, sourced from that body¡¯s taste buds, was ¡°bloody hell, that tastes fucking awful.¡± And then, something changed. Something in James¡¯ brain. Something physical, mental, and spiritual all at once. A noticeable shift to something different. The feelings coming from that body into the shared duality shifted. Less anxiety, less worry, less baseless panic. They smiled together. And then something else shifted. And again, and then again. Changes coming in faster and faster, tiny little shifts to the operation of James¡¯ persona, smoothing out chemical processes in the brain, paving over the jagged edges of old traumas. And then¡­ It was like opening his eyes, and seeing he was standing halfway leaned over a precipice. The sky was the color of dead moments, and the abyss below was the depth of a nightmare. And James was *alone*, cut off, and something was going wrong. Something inside him *changed*. Not a repair, not a patch to something damaged. Part of him shifted into something that *was not him*. And it wasn¡¯t anything to do with his depression, either. It was something personal, something true. And it was an *addition* to himself. Surface level, yes, but he hadn¡¯t given permission for that to change. It was *his*. The abyss laughed up at him, a demonic cackle that reminded him that it *did not care what he wanted*. And then it changed something else, dragging James slightly closer to the edge. He wasn¡¯t really here, he realized. This place had the feeling of dream logic to it. But it was real, and it was happening, and everything that was him was being overtaken by the thing he¡¯d invited in, replaced brick by brick with a person that would smile, reassure everyone that they were fine, and wear James¡¯ skin around like a death mask. James fought back. Dragged himself back from the ledge. But the monster wasn¡¯t the abyss below; it was the thing that had been standing behind James this whole time. Pulling strings, pushing him forward. An abomination that was oddly physical for the dreamspace, with a dozen rending limbs like shark¡¯s teeth, and eyes that were far, far too human to belong. There used to be a different monster here, James dully realized. But everything that had been his depression had been cut away, and replaced by this *thing* that used that platform as a stepping stone deeper into his mind. He tried to kill it. His strikes never landed. The pit and the sky and the creature laughed at him, and changed something else. And James was left alone in the darkness. Helpless, and dying. __ ¡°...up!¡± The voice came from a million miles away. Too far to matter. __ ¡°...James!¡± Louder this time. Still too far. But¡­ how did he hear anything? It didn¡¯t matter. He was already gone. Too far lost. __ ¡°James, get up!¡± Anesh¡¯s words weren¡¯t words at all. They were a panicked howl, a battle cry, an impulse to struggle, to resist, to *not give in*. To stand up, and keep fighting, because he was right there, and James just needed to reach out¡­ James opened dream eyes, and looked up at the hostile sky, cracked open and rent asunder to make a path for Anesh to crash through. His partner, not a person but an indistinct presence, filled the dreamspace, filled James¡¯ mind. Holding the thing back, but faltering. James gathered every part of him he had left, and reached out. Grabbed the offered hand. Connected. One shared mind, half operating in a dream, the other half literal. Anesh dumped into James¡¯ body a snapshot of James¡¯ persona; everything that had been cut off inside Anesh when the creature in the bottle had sunk its claws in. James, in unreality, found his strength restored, his form under his own control. His first strike slew the monster, the next paved over the abyss. Together, the two of them cracked the sky, and fell backward away from the edge, and onto the bed. James let out a panicked ¡°Awk!¡± noise as the cord connecting them pulled taut and jerked out of his skull to trail across the blankets as he and Anesh tumbled away from each other. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, taking deep breaths, afraid to move in case this was still the nightmare given form. This lasted for about one D&D combat round before Anesh crawled over him and gave James a panicked shake of the shoulder. ¡°Are you okay?!¡± Anesh asked. ¡°My neck hurts.¡± James answered. Anesh didn¡¯t let go of him. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant!¡± James¡¯ let his eyes focus on his partner¡¯s face, and saw a terrified expression and tears in his eyes. He mustered all the effort he had, and reached up a hand to cup Anesh¡¯s cheek. ¡°I¡¯m alright.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m still me.¡± ¡°What the hell *was* that?¡± ¡°I think¡­¡± James looked over at the crystal bottle sitting placidly on his desk. It was, once again, *full*. ¡°I think that, if you hadn¡¯t been there, it would have removed my depression.¡± He said, grim certainty giving his voice an iron edge. ¡°And then the rest of me. And then, it would have gotten up, and sold the bottle to someone else.¡± ¡°Did¡­ did JP just try to kill you?¡± Anesh asked, kneeling forward over James¡¯ body. ¡°I seriously doubt he knew.¡± James said. ¡°But this is¡­ bad. This is really bad. We¡¯re gonna need¡­ugh. My skull hurts from the inside.¡± Anesh pulled James into an odd angled hug. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He said. ¡°I had to undo...all of it. As much as I could. I don¡¯t know if it was enough. Are you still you?¡± ¡°Well, I still feel exhausted and worried about everything.¡± James said. He meant it as a joke, but Anesh just started apologizing again. ¡°No, stop.¡± James cut him off. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m me. I¡¯d rather be me and depressed than ¡®fine¡¯ and dead. Okay? You saved me. Again. Again and again. You always save me, don¡¯t you?¡± He pulled Anesh up, smiled into his eyes before kissing him. ¡°Thank you. Now relax. I¡¯ve gotta do a thing before bed.¡± ¡°What?¡± Anesh worriedly asked as James stole the bathrobe from him. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go find something with a lock on it, and shove this in there. And if we¡¯re lucky, it won¡¯t break out on its own.¡± ¡°Oh, so when you said ¡®before bed¡¯, you meant ¡®before nervously falling asleep to nightmare town¡¯.¡± ¡°Anesh, it¡¯s 2021.¡± James said. ¡°You should be used to this by now.¡± Anesh cracked a small smile. ¡°I¡¯m putting it to a vote tomorrow that we move to Mars.¡± ¡°Noted. Now lay down. I¡¯ll be back in a minute, and then we can cuddle and have bad dreams together.¡± Chapter 145 ¡°They say ¡®a lie can get around the world before the truth has got its boots on¡¯. Well, now the truth has its boots, and it is time to start kicking.¡± -The Truth, Terry Pratchett- _____ ¡°Okay, so, the important thing to take away from all this¡± James was saying to the friends around his table in the Lair¡¯s dining area, ¡°is that I was right. I am always right, my word is beyond reproach, and we should always all listen to James.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think¡­¡± Sarah started to say, waving a forkful of salad like a magic wand. ¡°Now, there may be some objections to my new, benevolent, dictatorship of knowledge.¡± James continued pontificating. ¡°But I think we¡¯re all understanding of the circumstances wherein I, your glorious leader, am always perfect.¡± Anesh crossed his arms and leaned back from the table. He didn¡¯t have food to ignore, he just had a laptop, making him the odd one out at their lunch. ¡°Hey, hang on. I literally saved you from a fate worse than death not even ten hours ago.¡± ¡°Perfect in both my correctness, and also my choice of consorts.¡± James was standing up now, hand over his heart as he gave an impassioned - and absolutely hammed up - speech. ¡°Truly, the era of my¡­¡± ¡°If I apologize again do you think he¡¯ll stop?¡± JP stage whispered to Sarah. She shrugged and devoured another tomato wedge. ¡°Try it and find out. Can¡¯t hurt.¡± ¡°Wanna bet?¡± Dave asked, looking ready to toss money onto the table. ¡°No.¡± Sarah flatly stated. ¡°Try it.¡± She prompted JP. ¡°Hey, can I¡­¡± JP cut off James¡¯ ongoing nonsense, which hadn¡¯t actually stopped. ¡°...can I actually say I¡¯m sorry? I really, honest to god, did not mean to almost kill you. I thought¡­¡± He looked away, and James actually did stop goofing off and sobered up as JP, for the first time since James had known him, *tripped on his words*. ¡°...I thought I could help.¡± He said, lamely. Hands spread on the table, still making eye contact with James, but with none of the defiant snark he normally had. ¡°I thought I could help you. Fucking finally. Like, a real solution, you know? And of course its a stupid idea and you almost die. That¡¯s just¡­ that¡¯s obvious. Right.¡± JP huffed. ¡°That¡¯s just where we¡¯re fated to be. You depressed and me not that useful after all.¡± ¡°Okay, for real, I¡¯m not mad.¡± James said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m just being a ham. I didn¡¯t actually think you tried to kill me.¡± ¡°No? Why not?!¡± JP demanded. ¡°You fucking trust everyone, and it¡¯s a *terrible* idea. Eventually you¡¯re gonna get stabbed in the back, might as well be me.¡± James sat back down, and stole a cucumber from Sarah¡¯s irresponsibly large salad. ¡°I get the feeling you¡¯re not really that mad at me.¡± ¡°No shit!¡± JP snapped. ¡°I¡¯m mad at *me*! I fucked up; you didn¡¯t do anything wrong, you just survived. And you aren¡¯t even mad! What the hell was your plan if I¡¯d betrayed you, huh?!¡± James stared at him as the whole dining area went silent. HIs face went from concerned friendship to an iron gaze in an instant, and when he answered, JP froze in his seat. ¡°There are six camracondas with line of sight on you right now. Two of them are armed with conventional weaponry, as are the other eight human diners. Two more dungeontech weapons, and two infomorphs on standby to attempt a kill or surrender command if possible. There are four primed grenade drones in the rafters above you, and you will note that from where Nate is standing at the serving line there is no one between you and the wall, so that if he has to fireball you repeatedly, he can. Also your chair has a thermite bomb under it.¡± James held up his phone, which currently showed a pre-dialed number and a big green ¡®place call¡¯ button. His eyes showed a *fury* that JP had never really seen him express before. ¡°JP, we asked if you wanted to teleport back for lunch to make sure you weren¡¯t hostile or compromised. And, if needed, capture or kill you, with as much force as needed.¡± James stopped talking, and silence took over the whole room. Eventually, JP slowly looked around, careful not to make any sudden moves. ¡°Oh.¡± He said. ¡°Well. Good.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James leaned over and stole more cucumber from Sarah¡¯s salad, to her protests. ¡°Fortunately that¡¯s not the case, you made a mistake, and that happens. I¡¯m alive, the problem is contained, and you can have lunch now.¡± JP looked down at his plate. ¡°I am¡­ very not hungry.¡± He said. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna go, actually. DeKay and I have work to do.¡± He stood up, flicking a telepad into his wrist. ¡°I told her I was coming back for supplies or something.¡± He admitted, not making eye contact with anyone. ¡°Hey.¡± Sarah said, as JP wrote an address on his pad. ¡°We¡¯re still friends, right?¡± James asked something slightly different. ¡°Are you okay, man?¡± ¡°I dunno.¡± JP admitted, putting on a false smile as he glanced up. ¡°I guess I got used to you trusting me.¡± He said. And then, was gone. ¡°Well.¡± Dave said. ¡°That went well.¡± Everyone else stared at him. ¡°So, show of hands,¡± James raised his own hand preemptively, ¡°who was surprised by how hard he took that?¡± Everyone at the table, and half the people within earshot, put their hands up. James almost wanted to laugh as more experienced knights explained to the newer members what was going on, and a few new hands got raised. ¡°I actually kinda expected it?¡± Sarah said, wavering her own hand side to side. ¡°I mean, okay, yes, JP likes to pretend to be really aloof and holier than thou, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± ¡°Wow, no one even hesitated there.¡± Sarah raised her eyebrows. ¡°Anyway, the point is¡­ he¡¯s not wrong. He got used to being trusted. Now he probably feels like he heckered that up with this whole ¡®almost replacing James with a puppeteer husk of mysterious origins and intent¡¯ thing. And he¡¯s not mad, really, just worried that things are gonna change again and we won¡¯t want him around.¡± James glumly traced lines on the table with an unenthusiastic finger. ¡°Oh.¡± He said, sadness in his tone. ¡°I should text him.¡± ¡°No, you should wait for him to contact you.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Let him do it on his terms. Let him feel like the bad guy for a bit, and get over his self pity without help. He won¡¯t, like, *thank* you for it, but you *know* that¡¯s what JP does.¡± Everyone glanced at Dave, who flicked his eyes around the table and then shrugged. ¡°I mean, yeah.¡± He admitted. ¡°He¡¯s my best friend, but I don¡¯t think he¡¯s ever really felt like he had to apologize for anything. It¡¯s probably weird for him.¡± ¡°Can I just say,¡± Anesh cut in as he stood and closed his laptop, preparing to head back to one of the basements, ¡°that it¡¯s kinda weird being in a group where someone literally almost died, and we¡¯re more worried about the feelings of JP than the potential murder victim?¡± ¡°Ah, whatever.¡± James flipped a hand with casual grace as he also stood up from his chair. ¡°I¡¯m fine, and you comforted me enough last night.¡± Sarah¡¯s eyes sparkled. ¡°Oh *really*?!¡± She leaned in with an expression that demanded juicy details. James and Anesh, having a quick hug before one partner left, both looked at her, then rolled their heads away so they could face the other direction while the blush spread across their collective faces. <| Corridor Filled : Bond Formed - Embarrassment : Share - Speed : Vector - Eyesight : One Corridor Established : Zero Corridors Empty |> ¡°*That* does it?!¡± James burst out suddenly as the second circular marking on the back of his hand flared with a brief pink and red glow before reshaping itself slightly. Anesh¡¯s matching mark doing something very similar, if not the same. ¡°Months of searching for Alanna together, a half dozen delves, fighting Officium assassins in parking garages, a million tiny things that make me love you, *lots* of sex, and *this* is the fucking thing that unlocks the Attic link?!¡± James hammered his knuckles into the unyielding surface of the table, rattling the dishes still on it. ¡°No! This will not stand! I refuse to be embarrassed into being magical!¡± ¡°Sooooo, the syntax on that changed.¡± Anesh casually acted like James wasn¡¯t in the middle of passive-aggressively ranting at the dungeon magic. ¡°It looks like it dropped the numbers and just straight up lets us share a thing now. Did you feel anything change with your bond with James?¡± He asked Sarah. Sarah didn¡¯t answer. She was flopped over the table, without regard for her hair getting in her salad, as she let out peals of laughter. Eventually, gasping for breath, she cut off James¡¯ rant to inform everyone that ¡°I¡¯m helping!¡± In a gasping squeak before mirth overtook her again. ¡°Do you want to try this out?¡± Anesh asked James, embarrassment replaced by amused exasperation at his friends. ¡°Nah.¡± James said, snapping out of his rambling and into a casual tone. ¡°Not right now anyway. Because I promise you that we are going to hurt ourselves testing it out, and I don¡¯t need bruises today. You *especially* don¡¯t. We¡¯ll hang out later tonight. Maybe shoot some hoops. Simon and Momo want a duos rematch anyway.¡± ¡°Sounds good. We can humiliate ourselves on the field of valor.¡± Anesh said, saluting James dramatically. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m off. Sarah, please don¡¯t forget to breathe. And if JP comes back, let him know I¡¯m only a little mad.¡± ¡°Can do.¡± Dave nodded at Anesh, while James gave him another, better, hug, before he left for real. James stretched his arms overhead. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ve gotta go talk to Nate. You guys have fun with whatever you get up to. Sarah, do you¡­ you¡¯re still dying, okay. Well, if you need someone for your podcast recording later, let me know. I¡¯ll be here all day, and I doubt I¡¯ll actually have that much to do.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t say that out loud.¡± Sarah chastised him. ¡°Wanna join my Response shift?¡± Dave asked. ¡°Sure. Later. Got a thing, now.¡± James nodded at them. ¡°And¡­ yeah, thanks for being here. I know I don¡¯t say this too often, but¡­ fuck, thanks.¡± ¡°I knew you were too cheerful for someone who almost died.¡± Sarah accused him with a pointed finger. ¡°You¡­ yoooou¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get back to you on whatever I am. Later.¡± James walked off, not sticking around to hear whatever non-swear his friend was going to come up with. _____ The kitchen was, as always, a bastion of order in the otherwise chaotic domain of the Lair. The Response teams were learning, and developing a kind of militant organization, but everyone else? Research was so overwhelmed that they regularly just *forgot* about magical artifacts. Not even forgot in an antimeme context, they just couldn¡¯t keep track of everything. The basements were in a constant state of motion without any real direction, with at least one of them having literal excavation going on, and another being remodeled into a bathroom that Nate was *reasonably sure* someone had modeled after the one from Harry Potter. No clue yet if that was a good idea or not, but if anyone tried to put moving staircases in here, he was shooting them. Nonlethally, probably, but still. It was the principle of the OSHA violation. Oh, and the engineers. God damn, the engineers. Yes, he was aware that many of them were nice people. But they kept asking him questions, assuming he knew more than he actually did just because he was here first. At least DeKay left him alone once he told her that he was only slightly less new than she was. The engineers kept coming back, trying to get his opinion on things anytime they couldn¡¯t find James. And then leaving cables and soldering iron burns on his tables. Well, not ¡®his¡¯ tables, but¡­ dammit, he¡¯d gotten attached to this place. No, no. Nate was perfectly happy to just work in the kitchen, listen to heavy metal, sometimes go fight monsters as a hobby, and be left alone. His prep cooks understood that. They also understood how to do the damn dishes, which was a minor miracle on its own, and it really added up to a kitchen that was all at once clean, organized, and comfortable. And now James was in it, saying hi to Knife-In-Fangs, and asking Nate questions. James was *like* an engineer, with the questions, except Nate was pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t be able to glare his boss out of the room. He¡¯d tried once, and James hadn¡¯t actually noticed. On the other hand, the kid - and Nate did think of him as a kid still - had seen more combat in a year than Nate had in two tours. He¡¯d fought for his life, and the lives of others, and he¡¯d killed when called upon to do so. He¡¯d earned a few answers. Especially since Nate had technically asked him here. ¡°So, you wanted to talk about the Old Gun?¡± James was asking. Nate wiped his hands on a mostly dry sanitizer towel before balling the cloth up and pitching it across the room and into one of the strategically placed buckets around the place. ¡°No. Originally, yes, but not anymore.¡± ¡°Oh. So nothing happened?¡± ¡°Nothing. Yet. Myles is tailing the woman the Gun made contact with, but so far it just looks like she¡¯s a factory safety inspector for a medical conglomerate.¡± ¡°Is she?¡± Nate frowned. ¡°You do understand that just because I worked for the bureau, doesn¡¯t mean I have special powers to know things, right?¡± ¡°I forget sometimes.¡± James admitted. ¡°A lifetime of bad American TV. Okay, so, we haven¡¯t seen the Old Gun around, we don¡¯t know what she¡¯s doing, and that¡¯s worrying all on its own, but you wanted to talk about her?¡± ¡°I had wanted to talk to you about what the most possible force we could bring to bear was.¡± Nate said. ¡°Potential preemptive solutions to it.¡± ¡°What, like, just kill her as soon as she surfaces?¡± James asked. Nate nodded, leaning his shoulder into the thin strip of corner wall near the coffee machines. ¡°Ayup.¡± He agreed without hesitation. ¡°It¡¯s obviously not human, and doesn¡¯t have our interests at heart. Plus from what you said, it wasn¡¯t really *trying* that hard and you only got away on a technicality. The only downside to a preemptive strike is not knowing if it¡¯ll work, and also it might disrupt whatever supernatural power ecosystem there is out there.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask about that, too.¡± James said, sniffing a probably unused mug before pouring himself a cup of coffee into it. ¡°Have we managed to locate anyone else like the Order?¡± ¡°Just the alchemists.¡± Nate shook his head. ¡°And from what you told us earlier¡­ fuck. Just, fuck. Bad news for everyone.¡± ¡°No kidding. We¡¯re gonna need to get on that. But, like, it¡¯s weird, right? That there *isn¡¯t* a power game going on? Big groups like dungeon nations, absorbing or forming treaties with smaller organizations like us. Ideologies and practices coming into conflict and alliances. You know, human shit. But with magic.¡± James sipped his coffee and burned his lip, swearing lightly. ¡°But there¡¯s almost nothing. That just feels *wrong*.¡± Nate didn¡¯t really have an argument against that. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said. It *did* feel wrong. ¡°I think what worries me the most is that the bureau is starting to get involved.¡± The chef admitted. ¡°They¡¯re not stupid, honestly. People are going to catch on, especially the analysts, once they know what to look for. We *have* a window where we¡¯re on top of things, but it won¡¯t last.¡± ¡°We?¡± James gave him an earnest grin, but let it fade as he moved back to the original topic. ¡°Well, as for killing the Old Gun before she kills us¡­ I have no clue. The thing is, she¡¯s impossibly fast. Fast to the point that the camracondas couldn¡¯t contain her. It took two of them to slow her down to the point that I could shoot her without her doing a Neo impression, and even that wasn¡¯t really enough.¡± ¡°What about explosives?¡± Nate asked. ¡°I mean, maybe? Sarah blew her leg off and she just rebuilt herself. So.¡± ¡°Well fuck.¡± Nate rubbed at the tattoos on his arm. ¡°*Can* she die?¡± ¡°I mean, that¡¯s largely the problem, isn¡¯t it?¡± James answered. ¡°We could try literally nuking her. I¡¯m still pretty sure we could¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°...But just one¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Fine. Our options become limited, then. Thing is, and I was talking to Anesh about this the other day, we don¡¯t have a lot of typical fantasy bullshit in our armory. We don¡¯t have force shields and wards and health potions. No one can cast fireball. Yet.¡± James shrugged. ¡°We can come up with solutions to a lot of weird problems, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s one of them.¡± He admitted. ¡°Which I suppose is why it¡¯s a good thing that wasn¡¯t what you actually wanted to talk about, and now I¡¯ve sidetracked us a few conversational miles in a weird direction.¡± He winced, stepping back against the wall to let the camraconda prep cook slither by. Knife-In-Fangs was humming to himself, using his actual voice and not the connected speakers. A set of the prototype manipulator arms was strapped to his back, the collection of servos and motors allowing the camracondas, with enough practice, to experience the gratification of having hands. He was also ignoring the conversation going on between the two humans; fighting monsters and risking life and limbs wasn¡¯t his style. He was here for *food*. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Nate and James watched the enthusiastic snake move past, before Nate looked back up and resumed their chat. ¡°So, you had a whole thing about poverty and logistics a while back, right?¡± ¡°I distinctly remember that I have never actually shut up about this.¡± James said. ¡°Great. I¡¯ve got a suggestion.¡± Nate bluntly ignored James¡¯ sarcasm. ¡°Expand our usable cold storage, and buy direct from farms.¡± ¡°How does that solve anything?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t. It¡¯s proof of concept. You¡¯re going to want to centralize food storage and production, though, for your city thing.¡± James gave his chef a look. ¡°I know you know the word.¡± He said. ¡°Also, this doesn¡¯t actually solve the main problem, which is logistics.¡± ¡°Just teleport everything.¡± ¡°See, that¡¯s the thing.¡± James threw his hands up. ¡°The telepads are very cool, but they only teleport things you are carrying. Clothes? Backpack? Sure! But just touching a car doesn¡¯t bring it with you. We¡¯ve tried, a *lot*, and there¡¯s no way we can blip a truck full of tomatoes across state lines.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got another suggestion.¡± Nate said. ¡°And this is the real one. Just carry the truck.¡± James took a sip of coffee, cocked an eyebrow, and waited patiently for Nate to explain, saying nothing about how dumb of an idea that was. ¡°So here¡¯s the deal. It has to be ¡®you¡¯ carrying it, right?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for an agreement. ¡°So, you need to have a different body. The notepads come from the same dungeon as the purple orbs, so I¡¯m assuming that the same rules apply. And we¡¯ve already got someone who¡¯s had limited success getting the purples to apply to a drone body.¡± ¡°Wait, really?¡± ¡°Yeah, the girl in Research. The one that was helping you with making acid two months ago. Nik?¡± ¡°Guy. Also why didn¡¯t I know about this?¡± James asked. ¡°Wait, is this *about* the LSD?¡± ¡°Guy. My bad. And it absolutely is.¡± Nate worryingly confirmed. ¡°According to some of the support group, the disassociation it causes makes using the skulljacks a lot easier. So, Nik started testing it with the drone controller, and I guess at some point got at least one purple to transfer over. If you *believe* your body is a different body, that¡¯s good enough, I guess.¡± ¡°Is it bad that it doesn¡¯t bother me that a good chunk of our organization is dropping acid when I¡¯m not around?¡± ¡°It bothers me that they didn¡¯t invite me.¡± Nate grumbled. ¡°Do they think I¡¯m a narc?¡± James snorted, then pointed out, ¡°You don¡¯t have a skulljack.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get one if they¡¯ll share their drugs!¡± Nate laughed gruffly. ¡°Ah, whatever. Anyway, that¡¯s my point. Use a different body with the teleporters to move stuff. That¡¯s it.¡± ¡°How do you know all this and I don¡¯t?¡± ¡°People keep asking me questions because they think I know stuff, and all the new kids think they aren¡¯t allowed to go to your office.¡± ¡°I¡¯m setting up a desk in the goddamn lobby.¡± Another sip of coffee. James¡¯ mind slowly turned the ideas over in his head. ¡°Okay, but how would we¡­¡± he stopped as a number of previous ideas and facts collided in a glorious connection. ¡°I have to go. I have to go talk to Momo. Right now.¡± He said. ¡°Wait here.¡± Setting down the half empty cup of wisdom coffee, James turned and sprinted out of the room, nearly clipping someone on the other side. Nate stared at the swinging kitchen door for a few seconds, before bellowing after James, ¡°I work here!¡±, and then turning to get back to his actual job. ¡°Jackass.¡± He muttered under his breath. ¡°Hey, you got that parsley chopped?¡± He asked Knife-In-Fangs. The camraconda nodded. Order returned to the kitchen. For now. Nate was sure it wouldn¡¯t last. But at least for a little bit, he could relax. _____ ¡°And now, the small news!¡± Sarah spoke in the crispest voice she could manage into the microphone. It had been shocking at first, when one of her purple effects had helped her out with that. It had taken her a while to realize that whatever gave a plus one to ¡®memorability¡¯ helped her with *this*. Public speaking, maybe. A distinctive voice. A good first impression. Who knew? That was fun trivia, but it wasn¡¯t why she was here now. She had a job to do, and a pretty fun one at that. ¡°Three things this week,¡± she intoned with a smile. The small news was her favorite; it wasn¡¯t a put down, at all. It was the news that wasn¡¯t warping the world, or about impending doom. It was little things, that mattered, that were special, but that weren¡¯t going to kill them all. It was *nice*. ¡°First off, yesterday was the name choosing ceremony for Myriad-Shining-Sparks-Overhead. According to her, she¡¯d like to go by Myri. Thanks to everyone who was there for this special occasion, and hello to Myri for the first time on air!¡± Sarah laughed, happy and infectious. ¡°Second off, a community announcement that there will be guitar lessons every other Thursday in the front room. Your two teachers will be competing to see whether ten years of experience lets you play Smoke On The Water better than two skill ranks, so¡­ honestly, that sounds like a blast. I¡®m gonna go to that.¡± This was probably the eighth thing Sarah had committed to going to. It would have been a problem if she ever actually ran out of energy. ¡°And finally, due to a completely harmless accident in Research,¡± she absolutely needed to frontload that qualifiying statement, ¡°there¡¯s a new orange orb absorption available!¡± Sarah gave a grateful nod to the intern helping her run the sound board as she passed Sarah a tablet screen with the reminder information on it. ¡°If you¡¯d forgotten, because we barely ever find them, the orange orbs warp space, give licenses when cracked, and when absorbed, give you a job. Well that¡¯s nice! I don¡¯t have enough jobs!¡± Her intern let out a surprised laugh that was just audible enough to be picked up by the mic, and Sarah smiled. They¡¯d leave that in the edit. ¡°Info on absorbing is in the manual, obviously, and you can requisition a copy of the orb if you want to, but remember that so far, as far as we know - my favorite phrase! - you can only absorb one and you can¡¯t ever change it.¡± She paused to double check the line that the intern had handed her. ¡°Really?¡± She asked, facing slightly away from the mic. The other girl just shrugged at her, curiosity and excitement in her eyes. ¡°Alright, I guess!¡± Sarah turned back to record cleaner audio. ¡°This one asks you to pull a hundred and twenty six weeds - and as with all of these there¡¯s probably some kind of pedantically specific definition on that but whatever - and if you do, it generates an *eight ounce cube of diamond* and this cannot be right.¡± Sarah paused, then she giggled. ¡°Ah, whatever. Of course it¡¯s right. Well! I look forward to everyone getting really into gardening!¡± Before she could let herself go off on any more tangents, Sarah wrapped things up. ¡°And that¡¯s been the small news! And as always, that¡¯s gonna be it for us this week. Everyone make sure to tune in next week when we¡¯ll be asking federal agent Tiffany DeKay awkward questions about her hobbies, and also talking about an end to cancer! Or, you know, download a file of someone else tuning in. *I know what you¡¯re doing, you can¡¯t just...*¡± The intern decided to clip the audio there. Sarah agreed that it made for a much more dramatic ending. _____ ¡°Problem.¡± Harvey opened the conversation with James. Unlike the high schoolers, the engineers, the support group, and basically half the Order at this point, Harvey had zero problem approaching James in his own office. ¡°Okay.¡± James set down the pair of wire cutters he was idly twirling while he stared at his laptop screen and tried to figure out how to phrase the part of the Operations Manual on the importance of giving dungeons dramatic names in a way that didn¡¯t make it seem silly. ¡°One to ten it for me. One being poor buffet selection, ten being nuclear apocalypse.¡± Harvey gave James a look. Almost an angry one, but more the kind of look of someone who doesn¡¯t have time for fun right now. He didn¡¯t say anything right away, waiting to see if James would course correct on how he wanted to approach this conversation. The head of Response had changed since James had last really talked to him. He had a neatly trimmed goatee now, and his face looked... sharper, almost. ¡°Have you lost weight?¡± James was a little concerned. Harvey, like most of the people they¡¯d rescued from Officium Mundi¡¯s conference room oh so long ago, hadn¡¯t exactly been in the kind of physical condition where losing weight was a good idea. ¡°Also, sorry. What¡¯s the problem? Anything I can help with?¡± And now Harvey answered, desire for a baseline of seriousness suitably met. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. The problem is that we¡¯re on the internet.¡± ¡°Again?¡± ¡°Worse, this time. Someone uploaded videos of two of the paper pusher interceptions to Youtube.¡± ¡°Ffffffuck.¡± James bit his lip. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s bad, but¡­¡± ¡°One of them got some notice. Most people think it¡¯s an ARG of some kind, they haven¡¯t been picked up by any news wire yet, though, which makes sense, because the police haven¡¯t actually made it public that they¡¯re looking for us. So people can believe that it¡¯s a fan film or something.¡± Harvey sighed and settled into one of James¡¯ guest chairs, leaning back but not getting too comfortable. ¡°There¡¯s a lot, a *lot*, of comments asking for more information. There¡¯s also a lot of people who think we¡¯re terrorists.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°A lot of the attention came around because we got mentioned on a conspiracy theory talk radio show, and the host kept referring to us as ¡®tools of the globalist agenda¡¯. Also as ¡®brainwashed programmed killbots¡¯. So.¡± Harvey sighed, and rubbed his palms into his forehead. ¡°I do not know what to do here.¡± ¡°Wait, hang on. Did we get mentioned by fucking *Alex Jones*?¡± He smirked. And then, when Harvey just gave him a dead look, that smirk turned into a worried frown. ¡°Wait, seriously? *Really*?¡± James had rebounded from his frown, and now a worryingly excited grin sat on his face. ¡°I literally wrote in the manual that we¡¯re not a conspiracy! That¡¯s hilarious! I¡¯m getting a tee shirt made that says ¡®official globalist killbot¡¯ now!¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡± Harvey said. ¡°This is a real problem. We aren¡¯t going to stay secret by accident for much longer, and we need a better first impression than rifle fire in a loading dock.¡± ¡°Okay, okay.¡± James smothered his wild smile. ¡°Being perfectly serious? I¡¯ve been worrying about this for a year now. How we come out, who we talk to, what we do. I dunno, it¡¯s overwhelming, and I¡¯ve been putting off planning. We *probably* have a leg up on a lot of people, which is good, but we can¡¯t count on it. Have you talked to Nate recently?¡± ¡°Only operational questions. Why?¡± Harvey asked. ¡°We¡¯re building a picture of what the magical political landscape looks like.¡± James told him. ¡°And it¡¯s not a landscape, really. It¡¯s more like islands. Points of light. A few scattered groups, barely anyone getting too big, and those that do just don¡¯t... talk? The alchemists clearly know *something*, because they knew that Status Quo died. But they didn¡¯t know about us.¡± ¡°So, we¡¯re the first, or at least only current, group like this?¡± Harvey asked. ¡°How the hell did that happen?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a worrying question, isn¡¯t it?¡± James tried to smile, but couldn¡¯t. ¡°You know¡­ you know how I like to joke that we¡¯re not a conspiracy? Well. I¡¯m wondering if maybe that¡¯s a bad idea. If maybe we go underground, pretend the videos were student films, shut ourselves off, and work in secret.¡± James gave a sigh that matched Harvey¡¯s own earlier, and stared at his desk in silence before he looked up. ¡°I dunno, wanna convince me that¡¯s a bad idea?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Harvey¡¯s voice was as deep as ever, but with a hint of apprehensiveness in it that couldn¡¯t be missed. ¡°But I dunno if I should.¡± He sounded bitter. ¡°We¡¯re doing good work.¡± James said. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Healing people. Saving lives. Helping.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Can we keep doing that, if we vanish?¡± ¡°Well, we can vanish pretty goddamn easy, can¡¯t we?¡± Harvey tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling tiles while he thought. ¡°Telepads don¡¯t mean we give up the dungeons. We could cut loose anyone who¡¯s not strongly invested, and just set up somewhere new with the core membership. Keep costs low, do your arcology thing on a small scale. Middle of the rainforest maybe, or somewhere else where we¡¯re hidden. Problem is, we¡¯re basically not gonna be able to keep up Response, no matter what. Not if we want to go quiet.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± James growled. ¡°Do *you* think we should? Go quiet, that is.¡± ¡°Fuck no.¡± Harvey barked a laugh. ¡°I think we should be making *more* noise. I think we should be reaching out to activist groups, and turning them into more Response teams. I think you should go on CNN tomorrow and declare that you have a privatized, nonviolent, functional, magical replacement for the corrupt and brutal police system in this country. And then next Friday, I think you should do it in another country. I think if we skip lunch, we can unify humanity by April. Hiding? Hiding just means you¡¯re letting the fuckers win.¡± James blinked. ¡°Hell of a birthday present that¡¯d be.¡± He muttered. ¡°I like the way you think. I don¡¯t think we can keep up with that pace.¡± He winced as he admitted it. Harvey stood up, started pacing back and forth. ¡°Then I¡¯ll settle for just doing a little more each day.¡± He said. ¡°But you already know you don¡¯t wanna back down. People with guns have already tried to stop you. Why would you be afraid of people with smaller guns, and fewer superpowers?¡± ¡°Well then. We¡¯re gonna need something weirdly specific.¡± ¡°What?¡± Harvey stopped and turned to look at the leader of the Order, who was currently spinning in his office chair. ¡°A bigger basement?¡± James shook his head. ¡°Worse.¡± He said. ¡°A PR team.¡± The young man shuddered. ¡°We¡¯re going to need to hire someone to run social media for us. Do you think we can get away with not having a Twitter account? Or should I just give in to temptation and grow our own social media site?¡± The look Harvey gave James this time was less upset and more just incredulous. ¡°Sometimes I feel like I¡¯ve been spending too long on one thing, and I missed a lot. Is¡­ growing¡­ a new Facebook, something we can do?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find out!¡± James said gleefully. ¡°Because fuck Twitter!¡± ¡°I¡¯m going back to taking calls from people in life or death situations. It¡¯s less stressful than this. Thanks for the talk, though.¡± ¡°No problem. And I will take it seriously.¡± James nodded at Harvey as he headed for the door. ¡°We may not be ready to grow, but¡­ well, the world¡¯s gonna keep rolling anyway, ready or not. May as well do it on our terms. Right?¡± ¡°Always.¡± Harvey nodded back. ¡°Good luck.¡± _____ The sun beat down on the asphalt and scrub grass in a way that was familiar for two reasons. El¡¯s hometown of Towton, Tennessee, was an almost insignificant speck on the map that just happened to be close enough to a real city and a highway intersection that it could support not one, but *two* strip malls. She¡¯d grown up here, escaped to go to college, been dragged back by social gravity over the summer, and then escaped again to go nearly die in an office building on the west coast. Over the years of her life, El had ¡®vandalized¡¯ probably a fifth of the non-house buildings in town. Being back was warm and inviting, both literally and metaphorically, in that it was still ninety degrees out in the middle of January somehow, and also that it just felt comfortable to come home and not be in mortal peril for a bit. El¡¯s hometown also abutted a rift in reality that led to another highway. A place that she had finally given a name aside from ¡®the highway¡¯, just before she¡¯d left the Order. El hadn¡¯t been able to stay with them, but she had to admit, their naming scheme was excellent. And so, she¡¯d called her mythic road ¡®Route Predation¡¯, and the name had stuck in her head enough that it felt real to her now. And the way the sun was coming down now, the smell of baking weeds and the glazed look of the air over the pavement, it all reminded her of hours of driving the winding hostile roads of that other place. ¡°So that¡¯s everything.¡± El finished her story abruptly. ¡°And then I came home. Well, started to. I got sidetracked. And you know how that goes.¡± She stopped talking, and focused on containing the leash of the incredibly enthusiastic golden retriever she was walking. Next to her, El¡¯s mother nodded. She kept a well disciplined control of the four dogs she had walking at her side; almost a military unit of canine fur. ¡°So this is the book you¡¯re writing?¡± She asked. Eleanor glowered at her mother. ¡°Mom.¡± She said, voice coming out a little sharper than she really meant it to. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say she wasn¡¯t really trying to control her tone at all. ¡°Come on.¡± Her mom shook her head, and despite not coming up past El¡¯s chin, still gave her daughter a chill feeling that she was a parental figure and maybe don¡¯t speak to her that way. ¡°Well I¡¯m sorry, honey! It¡¯s just not a very believable story, now is it? Paper men and snake things and secret societies? You can just say you broke up with Cindy and needed some time away from home. Though I¡¯m still mad you didn¡¯t call!¡± ¡°Mom, Cindy and I were roommates, we weren¡¯t dating.¡± ¡°Oh, honey, it¡¯s alright! I¡¯m not going to judge you, I¡¯m a *cool mom*.¡± El¡¯s mom playfully elbowed her in one of her cracked ribs. El stifled a bark of pain. And also a sigh of exasperation. ¡°Am I cursed?¡± She asked, looking up at the sky as if expecting an answer. ¡°Is this the Cassandra thing? I¡¯ve read enough Greek tragedy to know this reference!¡± Her mom ignored her pseudo-prayer. ¡°Well, I¡¯m still glad you¡¯re finally home and safe. And, if you broke up with your roommate, maybe you¡¯ll have some time to help me around the house? It gets so lonely around here, what with you vanishing for a whole year, and your sister being away at school. Just me, by myself, in that big old house¡­¡± ¡°Mom it¡¯s a three bedroom house and it doesn¡¯t even have a basement for anything nightmarish to grow in.¡± El rolled her eyes. ¡°Also, come on.¡± She said, her voice strained. ¡°I¡¯m trying to be honest with you, and you¡¯re just¡­ making it a joke.¡± ¡®Well can you maybe do some magic, then?¡± Her mom asked. El paused. She¡­ technically could? ¡°I mean, I guess? None of what I have is very impressive, though. Unless you could the spell that lets me defy fate, but I don¡¯t have the charge for that.¡± El glanced over at her mom, who was now giving El an eye roll of her own in a very sarcastic response. ¡°Oh, come on! What am I supposed to do, tell you that I can sort through boxes super well? I could show you my old car, because it had magic parts in it, but *apparently* that one didn¡¯t survive me being gone for a little while.¡± ¡°A year!¡± ¡°A little year.¡± El sighed. ¡°I dunno. I wish I¡¯d brought something back with me to show you. Or had one of the Order¡¯s weird powers. But I didn¡¯t, don¡¯t, whatever. I¡¯m just me. I can make a car go faster, if you want? I can take you into the Route when I make sure the entrance is safe again, but I doubt you¡¯d want that. But I will, if it¡¯ll prove it to you.¡± El paused. She¡¯d been looking off to her left, partially watching the dog sniff every tuft of grass they passed by, and partially avoiding eye contact with her mom. So she hadn¡¯t noticed that her mother had stopped walking, and was chatting with one of the other people out walking in the simmering sunlight. El tried to hold an indignant look on her face for when her mom finally finished her random conversation and came back over. But it just kept going, and going, and¡­ eventually, El found her self sprinting across a dry grassy field with her new dog friend, the two of them occasionally tackling each other in puffs of pollen and dirt. By the time El¡¯s mom finished her chat, El was both covered in grass seeds that clung to her shirt, and glad she didn¡¯t have allergies. ¡°Old friend of yours?¡± She asked her mom as they started walking again, this time with El having to put a little more effort into not limping or showing off any of her less obvious injuries. ¡°Hm? Oh, no dear. Just someone I wanted to say hi to.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­ where do you know them from?¡± El shook her head as she tried to pick bits of plant debris off her shoulders. ¡°Nowhere, honey. I was just saying hello, and we got to talking. Say, would you like to get some ice cream?¡± Was her mother trying to bribe El with dessert? ¡°Mom, it¡¯s been fifteen minutes. Don¡¯t you have to actually return the dogs that people pay you to walk? Like, at some point, surely.¡± El sighed. Her mom didn¡¯t seem concerned. ¡°The sun¡¯s still up! And they all know me! Mrs. Patterson especially will be glad you¡¯ve tired out Goldie there. I¡¯m so glad you came with me today.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± El glanced away, not sharing the feeling. ¡°Wait, the golden retriever is named Goldie? Come on. That¡¯s not¡­ you know, I know people who name things professionally. I can call them, we can get better dog names.¡± ¡°Oh, you can call them, but not me?¡± There was a silent pause. ¡°Hey, you know what would be great? Ice cream.¡± ¡°I knew you¡¯d agree!¡± Her mother¡¯s smile flicked back on like a switch was thrown. ¡°We can go to the place just down the road. You know, the one the sheriff caught you breaking into when you were twelve?¡± ¡°Oh my god mom, I wasn¡¯t breaking in. I was trying to get on the roof so I could draw up there.¡± El¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°Why does no one ever believe me about stuff like this? I haven¡¯t, like, spent my whole life fucking lying or anything, have I?¡± ¡°Language young lady!¡± Her mother said. And El went quiet. All that, and what her mom took away from it was the swearing. Was this how normal people were? Was this why James was never worried about being found out? Tell people straight to their face that magic was real, and they just called you a liar? Or, worse, changed the subject and pretended you weren¡¯t important? By the time they reached the cluster of buildings down the road, where the sidewalk was more than an ancient path that was more cracks and holes than anything else and the streetlights weren¡¯t spaced out by the mile, El wasn¡¯t feeling much better. Her chest hurt, and she couldn¡¯t tell if it was because of the scar tissue or just the feeling of not being accepted. Also, it was a million degrees outside, and Tennessee still hadn¡¯t invented the concept of shade. Not that she¡¯d trade it for whatever grim Pacific Northwest weather Oregon was having right now. A little too much sun was preferable to a little too much freezing rain and everything getting dark at four in the afternoon. It wasn¡¯t like their walk had been quiet. El¡¯s mom had been chattering to her the whole time about things El had trouble focusing on. Maybe this was what magic stuff felt like to her mom; just a little too much cost in terms of brain power to really engage with. That said, there were lulls in the conversation, one sided though it was. And it was during one of those that El brought up something that was bothering her. ¡°Hey mom?¡± She asked, before her mother could get back to talking about learning a recipe for a vegetarian quiche. ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Because El hadn¡¯t been through hell and back to get casually ambushed at the end of it. She had eyes, and a general instinct for trouble, and she kept her senses alert even when her mom just kept talking and talking and talking. And it had taken a few minutes for it to click what was bothering her, but now that she realized it, it was a feeling she couldn¡¯t shake. There just weren¡¯t that many people around. And in a town that was mostly a population of campers and hikers, mixed with retirees looking for a quiet place to settle down, and the scattering of job seekers that followed for the cheap rent and fresh air, it was *weird* that on a beautiful day like this, there weren¡¯t more people out. Out walking dogs, getting lunch, teenagers hanging out in groups after school, anything like that. Her mom didn¡¯t seem concerned. ¡°Oh, that! Well, you know how it is.¡± ¡°The pandemic actually keeping people inside?¡± ¡°No, silly. People are just moving away. Or spending more time inside since we got broadband here finally! I can watch cooking shows on Netflix now, you know?¡± Her mom¡¯s grin was almost infectious. And it was almost enough to make El relax. Almost. She was so on edge, she just shrugged and told her mom to surprise her with an ice cream flavor while she stood outside the little shop¡¯s glass door with the dogs. Behind her, a cheerful ¡®hello!¡¯ from her mother as the older woman swept in and greeted the tired looking kid behind the counter. El smiled a little, but kept watching the street, some kind of rogue suspicion bubbling in the back of her mind. They¡¯d finally fixed the pothole at the intersection here while she was away. The smooth strip of repaved road standing out like a black bandaid. Someone had, at some point, whitewashed over the giant pineapple she¡¯d spray painted on the side of the bank one fun midnight a couple years back. The city had new street lamps, with what were probably supposed to be hanging flowerpots swinging from crossbars. The reality of the burning sun hadn¡¯t been kind to those plants, though. There were a few cars around, including one fairly nice looking Volvo parked in the angled space in front of the ice cream parlor itself. But not, like, ¡®secret agent nice¡¯. Just ¡®regular sleek car nice¡¯. El shook her head. Maybe she was letting this get to her a little too much. So the town where everyone seemed to disdain television didn¡¯t have anyone outside. So what? There was a pandemic on. Maybe everyone was just being responsible. She paused, then snorted an unhappy laugh at herself. Yeah, right. There was a metallic jingle and a thumping noise from behind her. El dropped half the leashes she was holding and spun, hand already going to one of the knives hidden on her person, when she saw it was just her mom kicking the parlor door open. ¡°El! Here, hold this!¡± She awkwardly passed off a cone of frozen treat, while maneuvering several other items with her arms and free hand. Eleanor took the dessert while her mother knelt down to place a few bowls of cool water on the ground for the dogs, before settling herself on the metal bench next to where El was standing. ¡°Sit, sit! Eat your ice cream!¡± She said, taking the dog¡¯s leashes. El grinned slightly. Before she sampled the dessert she was holding, she used her now free hand to see what else her mom had pressed into her hand with the cone. A slip of paper? With¡­ a phone number? Her mother noticed her noticing, and nodded sagely. ¡°The nice young man in there was kind enough to give me his number for you. You know, since you didn¡¯t meet anyone on your trip. That you told me about, anyway?¡± ¡°Mom.¡± El felt herself turning red, and wasn¡¯t sure if it was sunburn, or an equally damaging flush of embarrassment. ¡°Honey, you know I just want you to be happy! But I wouldn¡¯t mind grandkids some day, too.¡± El wanted to hide behind her melting ice cream. ¡°Mom!¡± She groaned. ¡°His name is Steve and he¡¯s *very* nice.¡± Her mom said. ¡°Mom¡­¡± El realized she wasn¡¯t going to have the words to win this fight. So, she just shoved half a scoop of ice cream in her mouth and hoped that the brain freeze would kill her swiftly. Her mother¡¯s laugh told El that she¡¯d been mostly kidding. But probably, certainly, not entirely. El decided to be humiliated anyway. Though being fair, at least her mom hadn¡¯t tried to hook her up with a date while she was standing there. ¡°You reminded me of your father, for a second there.¡± Her mother¡¯s voice was gentle. Worried. ¡°Any loud noise behind him, and he was reaching for¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°Eleanor, what happened to my daughter?¡± ¡°I told you, mom.¡± El said, not looking at her mother. It looked like her mother was going to say something else, when the door to the ice cream parlor opened again behind them, little silver bell jangling with the motion. And then, the tense mood was shattered as a young girl¡¯s voice cried out. ¡°Dogs! Look mom! Dogs!¡± And a second later, a pattering of small shoes on the sidewalk before the owner of that voice, a girl maybe twelve years old, leapt with both feet to land directly in front of the pack of four perfectly behaved poodles and one flagrantly excited golden retriever. ¡°Hi! Can I pet your dogs?¡± The girl asked El with a beaming grin. ¡°Sure!¡± El replied, unable to keep an answering smile off her face. ¡°The fluffy one is the most fun.¡± She whispered, as if the other dogs might hear. From out of the parlor, following the young girl, came a woman who was probably her mother. ¡°Ava!¡± She called. ¡°Don¡¯t bother people!¡± ¡°Oh, no bother at all!¡± El¡¯s mom replied. ¡°Eleanor, this is Ava and¡­ Jeanne, was it? This is my daughter, Eleanor. She prefers a nickname, of course.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Jeanne gave a wavering smile in reply. El rolled her eyes again. ¡°Mom, do you just talk to everyone you run into? Or are these actually old friends.¡± ¡°They¡¯re on a road trip, honey. When would we have become old friends?¡± ¡°Oh, of course, silly me.¡± El huffed, and then yelped as her mother tried to slap her on the wrist. ¡°Mom! Stop embarrassing me in front of the kid who likes dogs!¡± ¡°Ava!¡± Ava chimed in. ¡°And yeah! Be nice to the pretty wizard lady!¡± El¡¯s mom laughed, and Ava¡¯s own mother joined in, still seeming nervous but otherwise happy her daughter was having fun. Ava, oblivious to all of that, just kept trying to give the biggest hug possible to a dog that was basically the same size as her. El, though, went silent, trying not to stare at the little girl, but finding it hard to not be instantly suspicious. ¡°Alright, Ava, come on. We need to get back to the motel. You¡¯ll find more dogs tomorrow, okay?¡± Jeanne said. ¡°Thank you,¡± she quietly addressed El, but also mostly her mom, ¡°she¡¯s been having a hard time lately. It¡¯s good to see her cheerful.¡± ¡°Oh, bless her heart.¡± El¡¯s mom said with an almost smothering sincerity. ¡°Well, I hope your trip goes well! And Eleanor, we need to be getting these good boys and girls back to their owners. Why didn¡¯t you *tell* me how late it was getting?¡± Her mom asked indignantly as she checked her watch. ¡°Mom¡­¡± El¡¯s vocabulary had been reduced to a single word by this point in the day. It was only hours later, laying in her old childhood bed, staring at the ceiling at two in the morning, that El voiced the question that had been in her head ever since the little girl had waved goodbye an bounded away, covered in shed dog fur. ¡°How did she *know*?¡± Chapter 146 ¡°Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world¡¯s grief. Do good now! Walk justly now! No one is expected to finish the work, but neither may anyone desist from it.¡± - Rabbi Tarfan, Ethics of the Fathers _____ ¡°Hey El.¡± Momo answered her phone without looking at it. ¡°Long time no see. You know, since you just fucking left in the middle of the night without telling anyone.¡± ¡°...How did you know it was me?¡± El asked, sounding legitimately shaken. ¡°How do people keep doing that?!¡± ¡°Oh, I have a totem that lets me sense inbound phone calls. I¡¯ve been figuring out how to dial it down to a really small radius so it¡¯s basically just perfectly useful caller ID. It also gives me an address if it¡¯s from a business, so I can order surgical strikes against phone scammers.¡± Momo sounded weirdly distracted for someone talking about solving one of the three great problems facing modern civilization. ¡°So. You wanna come back, or what?¡± ¡°Nice try with the shame, but I¡¯ve built up a tolerance to it from talking to my mom all week.¡± El replied, a very wry sort of cheer to her words. ¡°Uh huh.¡± Momo still sounded like she was focusing on something aside from the phone call. El blinked, then took a deep breath and continued. ¡°No, I don¡¯t want to come back. Yet. Maybe I won¡¯t ever, I don¡¯t know. But I¡¯ve got something else I want to talk about.¡± The reply came through distant, like Momo had set her phone down. ¡°Uh huh.¡± She said again. ¡°Are you¡­ ignoring me out of spite?¡± Eleanor felt that all too quick flare of anger in her chest. The kind that kept getting her into trouble. ¡°Come on, I¡¯m trying to be nice. I had to borrow my mom¡¯s phone to call you!¡± ¡°What? Oh. I¡¯m just working on a thing.¡± Momo said. ¡°Computer stuff. Whatever.¡± ¡°Alright, I¡¯m smart enough to admit you might have been the wrong person to call.¡± El grudgingly spoke, more to herself than anyone else. ¡°Yeah, hang on. I¡¯ll get James.¡± Momo said ¡°Wait no-!¡± El started to protest, but there was already a slight clattering as the phone was tossed onto a desk, and a couple seconds later, the sound of a heavy door opening and Momo shouting something down the hallway. ¡°Mo¡­ no. I didn¡¯t want to talk to James¡­¡± She muttered to herself. ¡°Oooh, James?¡± El¡¯s mom said as she passed by the living room couch that El was splayed out on. The condition of borrowing the phone had been using it in the living room, and El still hadn¡¯t built up enough shame tolerance to make this okay. ¡°Who¡¯s that, honey? A boyfriend of yours? Did you travel so far just to see him and he broke your heart? Just say the word, and I¡¯ll fight him for you.¡± ¡°Mom, please don¡¯t. Partially because you¡¯re just super wrong, but also because he¡¯d probably let you win and it¡¯d just be embarrassing.¡± El sighed. ¡°Momo, are you there?¡± She said into the cell phone. ¡°Please?¡± ¡°Momo is not within standard human hearing range of the device in this moment.¡± A distant voice answered El. It sounded simultaneously lightly synthesized, like the words were all being spoken individually, and also quite a lot like a kid. A girl, probably, on the edge of being a teenager. But the language¡­ didn¡¯t come across as how a kid talked. At all. ¡°Sorry, who¡¯s this?¡± ¡°I do not have a name yet. Who are you? Are you here? Are you this device? What senses do you possess? What information do you process?¡± There was a sudden break in the questions. El slowly moved the phone away from her head and stared at it with a wide eyed, concerned frown. ¡°If you make that face forever, it¡¯ll stick that way.¡± Her mother said, passing by again. El growled at her, and put the phone back to her ear. ¡°Uh¡­ okay, in what I think is the right order of answers, I¡¯m El, no, no, most of them I guess? And I mostly spend my time thinking about the chain of mistakes that brought me to this point in my life.¡± ¡°You are human!¡± The voice sounded distantly happy to have made that conclusion. ¡°Is that correct?¡± ¡°And you aren¡¯t.¡± El deduced. ¡°Well that sure is¡­ something.¡± And then, either mercifully or the opposite, James¡¯ voice cut in. ¡°Hey currently-nameless. Hey El.¡± He said the last bit much clearer, killing the speakerphone and picking up the receiver on his end. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Are you gonna try to weaponize guilt against me too?¡± She asked, a bit bitter. ¡°Nah. I¡¯m busy.¡± James replied, sounding like he was eating something. ¡°Besides, I¡¯ve met you. You can do it fine without my help.¡± El winced. ¡°Ow, dude.¡± She said. ¡°My bad. Not trying to actually be mean. So, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± El didn¡¯t know how to phrase this. Formal, or casual? Pleading, or transactional? Then realized that of everyone in the world, the one person who would least like her to play social games would be James. So, ¡°I think there¡¯s something weird going on in my hometown. And I want to ask for help. If-¡° ¡°Okay. Got an address?¡± El faltered. ¡°Just like¡­? Yeah, no, of course. You didn¡¯t even let me finish, dude.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need to sleep anyway, I can add another project to the pile. Plus I can teleport.¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± El paused. ¡°About that. I was¡­ I wanted to ask if any of you, like¡­ the you guys that I met and kinda like, not just random members of your guild-order¡­ if you wanted to visit the road dungeon with me?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± James answered. ¡°Oh! So, like, bring cars along? I mean, we could just teleport there and then buy cars¡­¡± There was a hum, like he was buying time to think. ¡°Or¡­ or I could take a vacation road trip¡­¡± James muttered, mostly to himself. ¡°Can I bring Anesh along?¡± He asked El. ¡°Sure, he seems smart.¡± She acquiesced. ¡°Sarah or Alanna or Momo, too. I don¡¯t¡­ really know anyone else, guess. So maybe one or two of whoever you think matters?¡± ¡°We¡­ we can¡¯t find Alanna.¡± James said, with no small amount of pain. Then he shook it off. ¡°We¡¯re looking though. Maybe we¡¯ll randomly stumble across her on a road trip. Who knows. Also, can I name your dungeon?¡± ¡°Too late.¡± El gave a victorious grin. ¡°I already have.¡± ¡°Damn!¡± James snapped his fingers loudly enough El could hear it through the phone. ¡°Ah well. But yes, we can be out there in a week or so. Just gotta make sure everything here is working and stable, yeah?¡± ¡°Yeah, no rush.¡± El said, lying. She felt like there was a lot of pressure, because she wasn¡¯t sure if everything was falling apart, or if she¡¯d just changed so much she didn¡¯t recognize home anymore. ¡°Oh, also, do you know how someone would identify anyone who has magic?¡± She asked. ¡°You can do that, can¡¯t you?¡± James asked. ¡°You¡¯ve got a spell for it. I don¡¯t think any of us do. So you¡¯re the expert.¡± ¡°...Oh my fucking god.¡± El set the phone down, covered her face with one of the couch cushions, and screamed. Then picked the phone back up. ¡°...forgot or something. That¡¯d be hilarious, and-¡° She put the phone down again. Hung up on James. Set her mom¡¯s phone on the tile counter surrounding the kitchen. Considered screaming into the couch again. But instead, called to her mom that she was going out for a few hours. El still had a few bucks to her name. And there were a few preparations she had to make, if she was gonna hit the road again. _____ ¡°I am starting to get worried that this is almost routine.¡± James said, cursing everything about the night¡¯s delve. Rick looked around worriedly, the new guy seeming a little confused as the other four people in their harvest team groaned in exasperation. ¡°Okay,¡± The tough old laborer and ex-idealist said, ¡°this is my first time in here, and I get that you kids have already set up a schedule. But there was a whole debate going on as to whether this place uses story logic, so isn¡¯t it kind of stupid to say *that*?¡± He pointed a meaty, scarred finger at James. ¡°It¡¯s an ongoing problem.¡± Sarah admitted. There were five of them, moving through head high cubicle walls. They¡¯d learned mostly by accident that the walls here were made of a sort of soft crumbling stone on the inside of their thin carpeted exteriors. Which made it all too easy to be ambushed by things lurking just inside the small rooms all around them. Still, they pressed on. Minor skirmishes with shellaxies and potted plants made it just tense enough that no one could really relax, despite James¡¯ occasional bits of banter. The near constant wave of small traps was almost predictable at this point, but that didn¡¯t make it any less scary. They pulled two carts with them. The first heavy canvas camping tool filled with a spare medkit, a few extra pieces of kit they might need, a few dozen small yellow orbs, and one friendly shellaxy that had climbed into the cart while they weren¡¯t looking and made Windows startup dings at them when they tried to move it. Sarah had named it Dark Chocolate Mocha. It was eating the orbs when no one was looking. The second cart was carrying a plastic bin full of bags of magical ritual coffee, and about two hundred pounds of refined silver. It was the one no one wanted to be in charge of hauling, and it was the one James had ended up in charge of hauling, the braced cloth base sagging under the weight of their loot from the first water cooler cave they¡¯d visited. It wasn¡¯t all they¡¯d be stacking into the cart. They were on their way to another cave that had been scouted out last week, hoping to add to their pile of raw resources that would allow the Order to continue to grow. To hire more people, do more good, make a bigger impact. Buy a tank, maybe. James had gotten an orb for [+1 Skill Rank : Drive - Tank - Panther], and now all he wanted was to try it out. Not that he hadn¡¯t always wanted to drive a tank *anyway*, but now it was far less theoretical. It wasn¡¯t even a military fantasy, it was just that it seemed like it would be a unique experience. They had more people in here tonight; to the point that they were starting to run up against the limit of how many people they could funnel through the door before the time dilation and ¡®eight hour¡¯ limit became an issue. Experienced and new delvers alike. Here to explore, learn, and exploit the hell out of this space. A lot of people were acting as just straight up scouts today, too. Looking for new biomes within their safe travel range of a few miles. Searching for sources of wealth and prosperity. Wealth, material resources, new tools of creation and happiness, life to befriend, anything that would bring the Order closer to stability, closer to accomplishing more good in the world, closer to their goal of a utopia. James joked about it being routine, but a routine that built a better world was a pretty good routine. To him, anyway. And soon, that routine was gonna get shaken up. He didn¡¯t know what to think of that. A new dungeon, a new frontier. New potential tools, new potential lethal mistakes. James felt more than a little apprehensive about El¡¯s request. He¡¯d arranged a meeting with everyone in a couple days to set up his upcoming absence; he was gonna go. But for some reason, he was more nervous than excited. At least here he knew what the lethal mistakes were, and how to mostly avoid them. ¡°Sh!¡± He hissed out, holding up a hand and stopping the procession. There, on the edge of his enhanced awareness, there was a rattling noise and a hiss much more menacing than his own. ¡°Tumblefeed, ahead and to the left.¡± He spoke in a low tone to the group. ¡°Could be an open space. Rick, with me. Alex, get a firebomb ready if we need it. Let¡¯s check it out.¡± He felt his blood start to sing as his heart pumped, and a small grin made its way to his lips. Yes, maybe he was nervous. And yes, maybe the future was a little uncertain. But in moments like this¡­ There was something angry and dangerous, between their group and a new sliver of something magical. And that was a special feeling indeed. _____ ¡°Momo?!¡± Anesh called into the basement. He¡¯d only just stepped off the elevator, he was almost positive he was in the wrong one, and all the lights were off and the hallways were empty. It was, more than the dungeons even, spooky. The dungeons were a lot of things, but subtle wasn¡¯t one of them. Officium Mundi and the Akashic Sewer didn¡¯t seem capable of going more than half an hour without a monster attack, even if one of those two places showed radically more restraint than the other. Clutter Ascent, too, didn¡¯t really hesitate to let things get *weird*. There was no thought, as you stood at the top of that attic¡¯s little staircase, that you had stepped into a place of magic and wonder. After all, there were three different skylights showing different skies, all right there. The basement, though? The basement wasn¡¯t actually that weird. It didn¡¯t have monsters, probably. It didn¡¯t have traps that weren¡¯t just OSHA violations. It didn¡¯t have any unnatural effects that they hadn¡¯t put there on purpose. It was just *creepy*. Basements were creepy! Anesh felt less like he was admitting that to himself, and more like he was mentally throwing up his arms and proclaiming it. He refused to back down on this point; he would stroll into an obvious paper pusher ambush with more enthusiasm than he¡¯d walk through an unlit concrete basement hallway. ¡°Momo, are you down here?!¡± His voice squeaked a little bit. ¡°I¡¯m not sticking around if this is an early Halloween thing!¡± No reply. In the distance, down the hall to his left, Anesh could hear some kind of noise. Music, maybe? He strained his ears. And was so distracted that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the voice next to his elbow hissed out a long, sinuous, ¡°Helloooooo.¡± Anesh made a noise somewhere between a screech and a howl, tripped over his own feet as he tried to spin around, and toppled onto his ass on the hard ground with a painful thump. He found himself face to snout with a camraconda. One of the ones that was wearing one of those motorized arm sets, long metal limbs splaying out from its back in a menacing way. A green blinking light on its camera eye appraised him carefully, before the snake creature pulled back and tipped its head up. ¡°Sorry, sorry.¡± It said, its digital voice clearly modulated to draw out the words more than normal, in addition to having a feminine tint to it. ¡°This way. Follow, follow.¡± It offered a pair of limbs to help Anesh up, but he pulled his ass off the floor using the wall instead. Not out of spite, just that he¡¯d calmed down a little bit, and the rational part of his brain knew that those arm sets couldn¡¯t move nearly as much weight as a human could. Yet. He followed the camraconda down the unlit hall, amusement replacing the heart-wrenching terror he¡¯d felt only seconds ago as the snake gingerly extracted a pair of heavy flashlights and clicked them on with awkward motions. It turned out, giving a species that had lived its whole life without arms a sudden influx of limbs didn¡¯t make them proficient overnight. ¡°Sorry, for no lights.¡± The camraconda hummed at him as they walked. ¡°Construction occurring. Small light?¡± She offered Anesh one of the flashlights. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you have these on when you came to get me, instead of just creeping out of the blackness like some kind of shadow creature?¡± Anesh asked, channeling a bit of his boyfriend into his words. ¡°Can see in dark.¡± The camraconda replied without hesitation. Anesh gave the snake an exasperated sigh, and followed the rest of the way in quiet. It didn¡¯t take long to get to where Momo had set up shop. Or rather, been assigned to set up shop. People were getting tired of her totem experiments causing headaches, even if she had found other pursuits lately. ¡°Anesh, you¡¯re here!¡± James called over. ¡°Great! Come look at this!¡± Anesh walked in, the camraconda trailing off to join a group of Order aspirants who were going through a box of dungeontech no one had found a use for. Momo and James were standing in the middle of the warehouse space, James with a hand on his hip as he looked over something on a clipboard, and Momo popping her joints with arms stretched wide over her head, leaning back and staring up at the thing James had started them working on. ¡°Alright.¡± Anesh started. ¡°I have¡­ so many problems here.¡± ¡°Okay. But first, touch this.¡± James held up the clipboard, a circle drawn on one side in sharpie. Anesh poked it. ¡°No, like, hold your finger there, you dork.¡± James rolled his eyes. Anesh did so, and then jumped as James ran his fingers across Anesh¡¯s. No, across the other side of the clipboard. But it felt¡­ real. ¡°What is *this*?¡± He asked. ¡°Magic clipboard? Cool, but I don¡¯t see how it helps us. Also, you¡¯re sidetracking me.¡± ¡°Magic sharpie, actually.¡± James grinned. ¡°Circles drawn on opposite sides of material seem to ¡®conduct¡¯ tactile sensation. But, like, as one big nerve ending. I¡¯ve been taking John Green¡¯s artistic advice, and drawing lots of small circles in weird patterns, trying to make something cool work.¡± James looked, Anesh realized then, strangely *content*. ¡°It¡¯s a good day.¡± He nodded at his boyfriend. ¡°James a chunk of the parking lot is missing.¡± Anesh looked at their project, squeezed his eyes shut, and then opened them again. Yup. Still there. ¡°James you stole a chunk of the parking lot.¡± James didn¡¯t even have the good grace to look sheepish. ¡°Is the parking lot *really* that important?¡± He asked. Rhetorically. ¡°You teleport to work you wanker!¡± Anesh bit back. ¡°Momo, help me out¡­ no, you aren¡¯t going to care. *Does anyone in this room drive to this building?!*¡± Anesh called out. One person who lived in the building, two people who teleported everywhere, four camracondas, three high schoolers who got rides from their parents or took the bus, one man who flew a dragon everywhere, and an environmentally conscious engineer who biked instead of driving, all looked at Anesh with silent expressions, before turning back to what they were doing before he interrupted them. ¡°We can replace the asphalt.¡± James said. ¡°Now, check this out¡­¡± He turned and swept his arms out, gazing up at their creation ¡°I have been unable to avoid checking it out this whole time.¡± Anesh said. ¡°James, I love you, but *why*.¡± ¡°Joke answer; because I¡¯m tired of Dave having the only mech.¡± James couldn¡¯t hold back a wild, cheerful grin. He really was having a great day. ¡°Also, here¡¯s a weird thing I¡¯m learning. Those startlingly specific architecture skill orbs actually do have broader practical uses, it¡¯s just that they don¡¯t have them by default. Takes a lot of effort to, like, pick out small answers to big questions.¡± Anesh gave up on complaining, or being contrary, or trying to argue. He just walked up next to James, thumped his head down on his boyfriend¡¯s shoulder, and gave a single chuckle. If nothing else, just happy to see James smiling. ¡°Alright.¡± He said. ¡°What¡¯s going on.¡± In front of them, dominating the warehouse space, was what had started the day as a pile of plundered asphalt. Over the last twenty hours, working with input from what felt like half the Order in some way, James and Momo had taken chunks of asphalt stolen from the parking lot above, as well as from a few construction sites around the city¡¯s road network, and abused the hell out of the blue orb from the telepads. [+24 Activations - Manipulate Asphalt] Blue orbs, it turned out, did not have diminishing returns when absorbed, if you¡¯d already used up the original power. You got the exact same power, again, at the same strength. Beginning with a rough outline and an end goal, and slowly incorporating more outside help and actual planning as they went along, the growing team had turned disparate chunks of rough black material into a humanoid shape. It stood twenty five feet tall, and didn¡¯t look remotely human in its proportions. Legs that were too thick and short compared to arms that were far too long and perfectly smooth. No need for muscle definition when you weren¡¯t planning to use muscles. ¡°We built a mech.¡± James answered Anesh. ¡°I get that. But *why*? Also how, but mostly why.¡± James laughed. ¡°Well, I gave you the joke answer. The real answer is, carry capacity. Because I am *pretty sure* that, if we do this right? We can use this with a telepad to move heavy cargo. Fast.¡± ¡°And the how, which I¡¯m becoming increasingly curious about?¡± Anesh asked. James explained. Their first thought had just been to make it human shaped enough, and try from there. But that instantly presented problems. Actually using the blue orbs took a lot of focus, which conflicted with the needed level of disassociation to actually see their growing colossus as a ¡®body¡¯. So, they¡¯d started poking around the stockpile of magic items and effects they had on offer. The first few were easy. The pen that connected tactile sensation. A coat that regulated body temperature. A few vision options, with the one they settled on starting with being a pair of glasses that gave you a sense of everything moving above a certain speed within a radius around you. Then they¡¯d started to get questions about what they were working on, and from there, help. A blue orb from someone with a handful of charges left that shifted an object to being frictionless. They¡¯d reshaped the ¡®joints¡¯ of their creation into perfectly, literally perfectly, smooth spheres. And from there, using manipulate asphalt to control the limbs of their project became infinitely easier. A pair of hiking boots someone had found in the office that couldn¡¯t fall over. They¡¯d shaped the base of the feet of their mech around them; the legs would snap in half before the thing lost balance now. To prevent that snapping, a reinforced rebar frame, with tungsten rods summoned from an orange job making up the fine ¡®bones¡¯ of the massive fingers. Pencils and pens, fused into the structure, inactive so long as the thing wasn¡¯t a ¡®body¡¯, but after it was? One that changed color, one that projected writing, one that always landed upright when thrown, one that self sharpened. Mundane technologies. The interior of the creation was hollow. It had no head, just a smooth body with two slots inside meant to hold humans. Oxygen tanks, reserve stockpiles of telepad blue orb. Telepads. Rations and medical supplies. Antennas reaching through the skin of the mech to stay in contact with the drone swarm that could provide extra vision outside. They¡¯d already tested it in part; the LSD trick totally worked. Someone could, without too much work, mistake this thing for their own body. Purple orbs shifted to it, albeit not at a perfect one to one ratio to a human body. It wasn¡¯t a human shell, after all. But enough of them lined up. The problem was, that person could barely do anything with it, before losing that connection. They¡¯d solved that with someone who¡¯d picked up four ranks in hypnotism from a large yellow. Putting a pilot into a trance, where all they had to focus on was using blues to move their new body, let someone take much more fluid control. It hadn¡¯t been enough to be functional, though. So, James, who had watched Pacific Rim roughly eight thousand times, suggested this solution. A second pilot, skulljack plugged into the first. Not gestated, just close enough to give mental nudges on what to do. One mind making tactical choices, one mind executing them without distraction. They hadn¡¯t tested that yet; in fact, they¡¯d just finished securing a connecting skulljack cable to an automatic cable winder embedded inside the heart of their creation when Anesh had arrived. Well, that, and the extra oxygen tank. Just in case. Safety first. ¡°And then you showed up.¡± James finished breathlessly explaining to Anesh. ¡°Actually, we should test this. We¡¯re basically drift compatible, yeah?¡± ¡°And you¡¯re not putting some kind of dungeontech weapons platform in it?¡± Anesh asked, probably for the fourth or fifth time. James shrugged. ¡°I mean, why? We¡¯re not taking it into a dungeon, we don¡¯t plan to actually fight armies, and even if we did, this thing probably won¡¯t stand up to an antimaterial rifle. It¡¯s literally just to cheese the telepad restriction.¡± ¡°So...you destroyed our parking lot. Dragged twenty people away from what they were working on¡­¡± ¡°They were excited!¡± ¡°...haven¡¯t slept or eaten a real meal for way too long. And probably dumped a not insignificant chunk of our limited budget, into - and correct me if I¡¯m wrong here - an overengineered forklift?¡± There was a long pause. Momo cleared her throat, looked like she was going to say something. Then closed her mouth, and quietly backed away, before circling around behind the asphalt colossus to hide. ¡°Yes?¡± James eventually replied. ¡°In my defense, it¡¯s really cool. Also we just had a lot of this stuff lying around. Especially the parking lot.¡± Anesh gave his partner a long suffering look. ¡°Oh, best part?¡± James quipped, seeing the expression his boyfriend was giving him. ¡°A copy of you was down here earlier helping out, so I *know* you think this is awesome. You can¡¯t fool me with that cute frown.¡± Anesh sputtered a bit, turning to cover his flushed face. ¡°Alright, *maybe*. Anyway, I came down here for a reason. Momo!¡± Anesh called the girl out from behind the leg of the humanoid golem they¡¯d been building. ¡°Your program child wants to talk to you. Something about a confirmed intersection?¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Shit!¡± Momo yelped, turning and rolling under a folding table. ¡°Is that bad?¡± James asked in an unconcerned voice, glancing around the room. ¡°Is that worse?¡± ¡°Worse than what?¡± The engineer who¡¯d been trying desperately to build a document for this project while Momo and James and everyone else just plowed ahead asked. Mars, that was his name. James had a hard time forgetting that one. ¡°Worse than an unconfirmed, I guess?¡± ¡°It means it found a dungeon!¡± Momo said, bursting up from the other side now wearing the coat that she¡¯d thrown under there while the group was working and the poorly ventilated basement storage space had heated up. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°Oh, neat.¡± James said, showing way less enthusiasm than Anesh expected from him. ¡°You don¡¯t seem¡­ excited or concerned?¡± Anesh asked as the two of them strolled after Momo, the rest of the construction crew either taking a break, or finally catching up on documentation. ¡°I figured you¡¯d be all over this.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯m experiencing a form of burnout.¡± James casually expressed his worst fear. ¡°Like, there¡¯s just so much magic going on all the time, I can¡¯t process everything, so my brain has stopped getting super into new things. That said, finally having a dungeon detector will be neat, assuming it works.¡± Anesh grimaced and tried to give James a hug as they walked. ¡°Sounds like innovation fatigue.¡± He said sympathetically. ¡°It¡¯s probably especially bad for you, considering you don¡¯t really have a specialty here, huh? You¡¯re involved in basically everything.¡± ¡°And I want to be!¡± James assured him. ¡°I just¡­ don¡¯t want to. I want to not not want to.¡± He sighed. ¡°I am so tired. And Sarah dumping naps into me every time she sees me is not helping. And *yeah*, it¡¯s a good day, and I feel good, but I¡¯m just not feeling excited for more arcane problems.¡± ¡°What a weird sentence.¡± ¡°It is kind of great.¡± James said sadly. ¡°Which is why I feel bad for not appreciating it more. Anesh, *magic*.¡± There was a pause while they stepped into the elevator, neither of them really comfortable having this conversation with three other people right next to them. It gave Anesh time to think, to work out what to say. Though it was hard; James¡¯ depression wasn¡¯t something that ever went away, it was always there waiting to take all the fun out of stuff. And the worst part was, Anesh knew that there wasn¡¯t much he really could say to fix it. The physical symptoms of feeling disconnected from special things and constantly exhausted by a life that should be content weren¡¯t things that you really *could* fix with just words. So instead, Anesh just tried to be as supportive as possible, and knew he¡¯d be there to be excited along with James when the feeling faded. ¡°Well hey.¡± Anesh said as the elevator reached the surface and Momo hit the button to take them back down to a different basement while a few people got off on the ground floor. ¡°Think of it this way. You¡¯ve got skills, potions, magic items that level up, and stat point upgrades. Maybe this dungeon finally gives you actual magic spells. Then you can fill in that empty space on your character sheet.¡± The joke was said in a subdued tone, but he said it with a smile, and got a grin out of James. ¡°I can finally use my resume that lists my occupation as sorcerer!¡± James declared as they followed Momo out of the elevator and through the twisting halls to where she¡¯d built her AI. The other girl dashing ahead of them, not bothering to hide her nervous energy. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you been?¡± Anesh asked him. ¡°Do you not ¡®count¡¯ as a wizard yet?¡± He smirked. James put on his best wizened old man voice. ¡°A wizard with one spell is no wizard at all.¡± He grumbled, before switching back to his normal tone. ¡°Though seriously, the asphalt thing is cool. I feel like we should be doing more with the blue absorb copy thing. Finding the best ones, abusing them.¡± ¡°We¡¯re already trying to abuse the copier as much as possible.¡± Anesh reminded him. ¡°There¡¯s a waiting list. There¡¯s a *long* waiting list, and it keeps growing.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll get there.¡± James sighed wistfully as the two of them came to the door of Momo¡¯s computer lab, the metal barrier hanging open in the hallway. ¡°Alright, what¡¯s up?¡± He asked, strolling in. Momo glanced up from where she was leaning over the desk, elbows resting on space hastily cleared among the random collection of things that had accrued here while she¡¯d been using the room. She had been looking at one of the monitors, and now stepped back to let James and Anesh see. It was a mess of numbers James didn¡¯t know the purpose of. To Anesh, it made a little more sense; he¡¯d tried something like this himself a while back. Weather patterns, budget reports, missing persons statistics. But this had more. So much more. Vehicle emissions and average credit card purchases and traffic patterns sourced from local camera networks and every statistic that could be gathered, legally or not. The thing Momo had accidentally created thrived in the ocean of data. If you asked it how it found something, it would be able to tell you eventually, but the process wasn¡¯t quite like a human. There was no ¡°oh, I *get it* now¡± moment that set it on the trail. It just looked for patterns, compared them, found averages, found outliers, identified strange behaviors and where they were focused. It was an almost horrifying tool of intelligence gathering. The only consolation to the Order members that were maybe a *little* concerned about its existence was that it didn¡¯t seem capable of caring about individual persons. In theory, it could know basically everything about a person. But it wasn¡¯t really interested, or perhaps even able, to focus on that person separate from their place in the greater patterns. And now, after weeks of number crunching, it had identified something. Somehow. Tracking a hundred different things. Comparing, contrasting, collating data. There was no grand reveal. And no precise entrance location. But both the AI and Momo seemed entirely confident in the result. Alice Springs, Australia. High projected fatality rate. ¡°This does not fill me with a sense of magic.¡± James glared at the screen. ¡°Welp.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s meeting just got a lot more complicated.¡± _____ James passed through the house that contained Clutter Ascent politely. Actual humans lived here now; caretakers of the dungeon¡¯s external shell, who were in turn kept safe by the dungeon itself. So he went through the process of knocking, removing his shoes, saying hi to the group watching TV, and trying one of the cookies that were clearly a passionate first attempt at baking, before finally heading upstairs to visit the attic. There was probably someone here, but for the first time in a while, James wasn¡¯t here to visit Sarah. He was here to talk. Mostly. To talk, to sit, to take some time and experience something magical just for the sake of the magic. Also to say hi to Fredrick. He¡¯d brought the strange shadow creature a bag of cashews. James had only really encountered the thing once, but Sarah had encouraged people to drop in and say hi. Apparently, the little guy was fond of snacks, and also some kind of game that *looked* like chess, but absolutely was not chess. He¡¯d been challenging people to games when they¡¯d walked through the corridors of forgotten boxes in the attic, and while he didn¡¯t extract any price for a loss, he certainly didn¡¯t have any inclination to actually explain the rules either. James wandered the space under the rafters for a while, smiling as he realized that there was a part of the designated path where it felt like the ceiling was constantly getting closer, even though it never met the floor. Like that one noise from Star Trek that gave the illusion of going up in pitch forever, only somewhat more claustrophobic. He wasn¡¯t looking for anything, really, or here with any real goal in mind. He was just wandering and looking around this safe, strange space. He found himself, at one point, in one of those empty dark spaces of the mind. He¡¯d tried to open a cupboard, more out of curiosity than anything else, and realized only after being transported here that it was one of the attic¡¯s treasure chests. Half an hour later, he put the finishing touches on the mental image key he¡¯d put together. Piece by piece, building the feeling of a cold coffee shop in early June, the hiss of the espresso machine and the chatter of the patrons overlapping in a pleasant background noise, just before the lock clicked open and he found himself back in reality. James pocketed the little bond stick that the cupboard held, wishing that they could recreate that effect on purpose and for fun. Those mental puzzles were actually really satisfying to solve. Like a combination of a coloring book and a sudoku. Fredrick never materialized, and half an hour later, James found himself sitting in a far off corner of the attic, leaning against a rolled up comforter and staring up at the brilliant gold and purple light pouring through a skylight. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m missing something.¡± He sighed to no one in particular. Or, perhaps, to the dungeon in particular. Clutter Ascent was a good listener. ¡°I wish¡­¡± James started, then took a minute to put his runaway thoughts together. ¡°I think I wish I could be like you.¡± He admitted. ¡°A dungeon. A space. You¡¯re only responsible for yourself, and you create all this. You just¡­ make stuff. And people come in and experience it. That really speaks to the part of me that never stops thinking about running another RPG. You know, when the free time starts again.¡± He chuckled in the mostly still air, watching spiral fractals of dust motes dance in the sunbeams. ¡°I say that as if free time is some kind of fungible resources, and all we have to do is turn on the time faucet and I¡¯ll have more of it. Which, I mean¡­ I¡¯m not gonna pretend that¡¯s not an option these days.¡± Anything was possible, after all. That kind of made it a little unsurprising when the next impossible thing came up, but there were always curveballs anyway. There was an awkward moment before James figured out what was bothering him. ¡°I just realized,¡± he partially interrupted himself, ¡°that I¡¯m piling my personal mental health problems on you, and that¡¯s super not fair of me. I know Sarah said you like it when people come and talk to you, and you like to take care of everyone. But¡­ this feels like I¡¯m asking for something you can¡¯t give me.¡± James closed his eyes, shifted his back a little as he pushed his head into the blanket behind him. ¡°Magic is becoming normal to me.¡± He said, voice as neutral as he could get. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s bad. I like it when life feels special, I guess. I don¡¯t want things to be normal. And I know it¡¯s not normal, I get reminded every time I go to a restaurant or¡­ um.¡± James thought for a second, cracking one eye open as he did so. ¡°I guess restaurants are basically the only place I go these days. And dungeons. Still.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I just feel like I¡¯m back where I started, but with more money. Like, yes, things weren¡¯t bad. I have my friends, people I care about. I¡¯ve got a home. And now, it¡¯s got a lot of very real, very beautiful magic to it. There is no other word. Magic.¡± He sighed, again. ¡°And I feel like an asshole for feeling discontent, I guess. I¡¯m going on ¡®vacation¡¯ in a week or so, and I¡¯m confused as to why I don¡¯t feel some kind of electric thrill to go explore a mystic hostile eternal highway. That seems like it should be, you know¡­ perfect.¡± James felt tired. A bone deep weariness that had been pulling at him all week. He¡¯d had good days, he¡¯d had some sleep, but nothing was letting him shake the feeling of lethargy perusing him. Like he just wanted to curl up and take a ten year long nap. ¡°Why,¡± he asked the warm air around him, ¡°is it not just enough to have friends, share food with them, and play some board games?¡± James didn¡¯t really have an answer. Didn¡¯t know why he always felt like he had to do more, even as he equally felt like doing more wasn¡¯t doing *anything*. There was no answer. Not right away. And James didn¡¯t know what else he needed to say; to himself, or to the space around him. Didn¡¯t know if putting his thoughts into words helped anyway. But, if nothing else, he found the spot he¡¯d chosen was basically perfect for a nap. When he woke up, he felt better. Better in a way he couldn¡¯t qualify, better in a subtle, bone deep way. Like he¡¯d slept for a decade, and it had been *enough*. Also Fredrick was there, halfway through chowing through the bag of cashews that had been stealthily extracted from James¡¯ pocket. The creature didn¡¯t notice James waking up, and for the first time, he got a good look at it. Or a better look, anyway. It had blurred edges, like a shadow. Some deep blue scale patterns on its stomach, like a midnight salamander, and also shiny black fur that ran down its limbs and back. It had a muzzle somewhere between a gecko and a raccoon, and the way it was eating was *very* raccoon-adjacent. Rolling the nuts it was chowing down on over in its small hands repeatedly before nibbling them to nothing. It had more hands than James had realized. Six of them, in fact. Its body and legs were, in no uncertain terms, arachnid. And suddenly, James figured he realized why it kept hiding from people. ¡°You know,¡± He spoke softly, and Fredrick froze mid-cashew, ¡°we¡¯ve got snakes and staplers and a half dozen tentacle monster computer things on the roster.¡± James said, watching the knee-high critter nervously fold his extra arms behind his small frame, hiding them out of sight. ¡°What I¡¯m saying is, you don¡¯t need to be nervous just because you¡¯re half spider, okay?¡± The amalgamation of ideas from living creatures stared at James with sparkling sapphire eyes. And then, as James shifted to sit up, before his legs fell asleep harder than he had, Fredrick bolted into the shadows of the junk around them. James sighed. So much for making friends, he started to think. But then, a rustling from a pile of clear plastic tubs of Halloween decorations to his left. One of them on the bottom shifted aside to make a small tunnel, out of which Fredrick wriggled backward, dragging something with him. The little creation turned to regard James, still keeping four of his limbs pinned back and concealed. But with more comfortable consideration than panic. With a small nudge from his snout, he pushed forward a polished wooden box with a chess board painted on top of it. James smiled. Passed over the rest of the cashews. A good nap. Some magic. Food. Board games with friends. Maybe Clutter Ascent could give him exactly what he needed after all. _____ Myles was having an awkward day. It had started normally. He was shadowing the woman that the Old Gun had made contact with a couple weeks ago. Trying to figure out what she had been tasked with, or why the supposedly ancient and deadly creature was interested in her to begin with. He¡¯d been tailing her for a couple weeks. Her name was Susan Halliston, she worked for a company called Dow Chemicals in Bayton Texas, and she owned two dogs. Well, her husband owned two dogs. She didn¡¯t like dogs, near as Myles could tell. And ever since he¡¯d gotten a moment alone with her cell phone and had turned it into an always-on audio bug, he¡¯d had a firsthand look at just how bitter a person in the late forties could be. Susan Halliston did not like dogs, the weather, other drivers, her husband, her eldest and only daughter, the employees at any given drive thru, her job, or, it would seem, herself. Myles didn¡¯t really like her either, after a week of listening to her constant whining when she thought no one was listening. She was also a workaholic, and spent most of her time on site at the chemical plant she did safety oversight for. She didn¡¯t like the look of the series of structures, all the walking, her coworkers¡­ It was exhausting. Myles had a map of the property, and had compared it to reality just to make sure. It was mostly, as far as he could tell, pipes. Though he didn¡¯t know much about chemical refinement, so maybe pipes was normal. The thing that was making today awkward was twofold. The first thing was that he¡¯d had to get a backup car on short notice. Another rogue, a girl named Lin that he¡¯d never met, but had known the passphrases that Myles had been given, had teleported into his hotel, and commandeered his rental car for something. She hadn¡¯t said what, and Myles got the impression he was actually still being simultaneously tested and trained by Nate and JP. So, he¡¯d wasted an hour today getting another car, and getting back to his stakeout. The second thing was that he¡¯d noticed something. Specifically, he¡¯d noticed, a little too late as someone was getting out of the vehicle, that the van parked streetside behind him was the exact same one that had been there the last three days. And so was the red sedan in front of him. And while part of his brain was trying to rationalize why someone would repeatedly park on a stretch of road with nothing of value nearby except line of sight to a chemical plant, the rest of his brain was focused on the man approaching and drawing a handgun from a sharp black holster under his coat. Myles was a lot of things. Myles was sneaky, smart, and some third S word that meant generally a good choice for espionage. Myles was also, in his own opinion, pretty damn cute. But for all the spycraft training he¡¯d had jammed into the last two months, and even with the marginal upgrades from the weird magic stuff, Myles was not a trained fighter. So he froze, as the man approached his car in a slight crouch, handgun held in a two handed grip as his eyes swept the area. There were no other cars around on the road, no one to save him. Myles realized he only had seconds to act, forgot entirely that he owned a telepad, and reached for the keys still in the ignition. The man passed his car by. And approached the sedan about twenty feet past his front bumper, raising his gun and yelling at the person still in the driver¡¯s seat there to get out of the vehicle even as that car¡¯s engine rumbled to life. She absolutely didn¡¯t get out, and instead floored it. The man on the road started firing, pops of gunfire sounding loud even through the windshield, the smell of gunpowder added to the hot Texas air. Myles could hear the man on the street swearing, even though he could no longer see him. He¡¯d chosen the stealth option, and had sunk down in his seat to the point that he shouldn¡¯t be visible from the road. To his right, he heard the van¡¯s tires squeal as it pulled onto the road, and then a yelled ¡®get in!¡¯ and a door slamming, followed by more engine roaring. And then it was quiet again. Myles peeked over the dashboard. The street was empty. He reached for his phone, then grumbled as he realized it was in a different cupholder than he was used to. Then his brain made the connection. The same cars, three days in a row. He was in a different car. Because Lin had taken his. Holy shit, he¡¯d gotten lucky. So. At least two other people or groups were here, in this place where the literal only thing to do was run a stakeout on this one specific chemical processing facility. Cool. His heart was still pounding. And so, he was alert and on edge when Susan arrived at work. He was paying attention when he realized that she¡¯d been unusually silent today. When he noticed that she brought with her a hard shell black case that could only ever hold a pistol of some kind. The security at the gate didn¡¯t react, so either this was normal, or something was up. Myles listened intently to the stolen audio. There was some background noise, so the bug was working. Susan just wasn¡¯t saying *anything* today. A massive shift from the woman that hadn¡¯t shut up about things she hated for the last twelve days. By this point, he had her routine and the associated sound effects down to the point that he knew what it sounded like when she walked into her office. Knew what it sounded like for her to flick the lights on, push her chair into position, and sit down. She didn¡¯t sit down today. Instead, there was a heavy thump of plastic on wood. Two snaps of clasps being unlatched. And then, a long, heavy sigh. It was the kind of resigned noise that Myles was familiar with from fiction, but had never heard a human make. And then, the first words she¡¯d spoken all day. ¡°Friday. Today¡¯s it, huh?¡± It sounded dead. No emotion. And then, in a mechanical, almost rehearsed tone, Susan added, ¡°I hate my life and want it to end.¡± Myles tensed up, every part of him suddenly horrified that he was about to bear witness to this woman¡¯s suicide. But instead of a gunshot, there was the sound of a door handle rattling. And then, his phone exploded. Not in the metaphorical sense, where a slew of texts came in at once. No, Myles¡¯ phone *detonated*. Not all at once, either. He could see the shockwave that rippled through it almost in slow motion, propagating from the direction of the chemical plant, and blasting the device to shrapnel in a cone that accelerated in an unpredictable, rapid jerk forward that left him screaming in shocked pain as a part of what used to be his touchscreen carved through his cheek. Other chunks of debris fired so fast they embedded themselves in the driver¡¯s side window and pylon, the sound of the impacts mixed with the electric hiss of a battery discharging as it was rent apart. Then everything was quiet, except for Myles swearing. He didn¡¯t even have his first aid kit in this car; it was in his other rental, who knew how far away. A quick check showed the chemical refinery was still standing; whatever had blown up his phone hadn¡¯t hit the building. Or his car, which was good. Probably. He held a pile of McDonald¡¯s napkins against the bleeding hole in his face as he drove back to the hotel with shaking hands. No phone and something insane happening meant exactly one thing. Time to make use of his telepad back, and fill in Nate on how his life was about to get way more complicated. _____ The Akashic Sewer was about as disgusting as ever. There was clearly a pattern to when and why it opened. Or at least, there was that weird fuzzy logic in the back of James¡¯ head that screamed that there was some unknown criteria at play here. Anesh thought there was a much more overt logic, but he hadn¡¯t actually found anything linking it all together. So, for now, they just had Lua keeping an eye out, and sent in a team every time the door was there. It came out to about once or twice a week, and the door tended to vanish when unobserved after a delve was finished. They were here on kinda late notice, with James already packed for his planned vacation after the short meeting with the rest of the pillars of the Order tomorrow. But he¡¯d largely given up sleeping anyway, and so he¡¯d had little trouble joining an Anesh with some free time and a messed up sleep schedule, and an overly excited Ethan who was not being shy about letting James know how cool it was to be teamed up again. Putting aside that one main distraction, the process was getting more clear. The Sewer was gross, awful, and in many cases probably toxic. They all wore thick filter masks, but James had asked Nate to find them some actual military grade gas masks. Nate had muttered something about not putting up with ordering from anything except Sysco, and had delegated it, but James was pretty sure it would get done. The wildlife here hadn¡¯t improved any, either. The scream balls of rat skulls woven together with sinew and dripping wet rope were still around, flinging themselves down hallways with no real regard for hunting. Though James acknowledged, especially with how Ethan froze up after the first one, that they were probably a great way to sweep away inexperienced students that got trapped here. Those arm-vines were more prevalent, too. Growing around the pipes in the walls like they were giving them a hug, only with more bulging pus sacks than any hug should ever have. The team had plenty of time to examine the wildlife as they moved, as they were not making good time. Because the biggest change was that the dungeon had warped itself to have more than just straight corridors with the occasional intersection. Dark pipe filled hallways led to miniature mazes, the walls and floors shifting abruptly to decayed wood and a layer of mud. There was, so far, nothing living here that they hadn¡¯t seen so far. But the hallways suddenly twisted in sharp corners and slight inclines and drops. The two mazes they¡¯d been through so far were simple enough that a toddler could have passed them if they were drawn on paper. But the fact that they were seeing something new grow like this at all was worrying. The mazes also had a couple of those overly hostile academic questions scrawled on the walls. The group answered them, after explaining to Ethan that they tried to funnel the sparks to a single person so they¡¯d have the most flexibility with the chests at the end. The second maze had another weird feature, too. A small alcove jutting away from one of the side corridors, within which there was a bright blue ring of moss on the floor that glowed like it was radioactive, and a rotting wooden lectern in the middle of it. Though Anesh confirmed the moss wasn¡¯t actually radioactive with the Geiger counter he¡¯d brought along. There was a handprint on the lectern, like they were invited to step forward and touch it. They did not step forward and touch it. They passed a dozen or so rooms, declining to enter any of the ones locked with red sparks. They hadn¡¯t been fighting enough to be comfortable spending points they might need to get out later. One room wasn¡¯t actually locked, but did contain *hundreds* of the little wet rat things that normally lurked up in the pipes and drank the dripping blue slime. They were stacked in their, floor to ceiling, and when the door opened the entire collective began screaming, clawing at each other to breach out and rip and tear at the intruders. Ethan had been almost swept away by the matted fur tide before James and Anesh got the door slammed shut. The little monsters were blinded by the powerful lights they all had strapped to their armor, but that didn¡¯t stop them from shoving forward anyway. The two of them had to hold the door there, leaving Ethan the disgusting task of splattering the shambling critters that had already poured out before they could compose themselves, and then getting him to help them wedge a piece of broken pipe under the handle to seal the door shut before they could let go. They stopped checking doors after that. There was also a weird moment when Anesh¡¯s Geiger counter actually did go off. It wasn¡¯t exactly surprising; James had always figured they should be coming down here in hazmat suits. What was surprising was that the actual range of the radiation seemed to drop off exponentially. It came from one of those gurgling columns of thick liquid that poured out of a breached pipe and down into the floor. And it was *very* radioactive. If you were within a half inch of it, that is. If you were an inch away, it was a little radioactive. If you were beyond that, it was¡­ well, ¡®safe¡¯ was a word that got thrown around a lot and probably didn¡¯t apply here. But it wouldn¡¯t cause telomere decay. It would cause nausea, though; even through the mask, James could smell this one, and it smelled like the worst lemon. Overpowering and rotten. Anesh had wanted to take a sample, even if just to hand off to a physicist somewhere. But they hadn¡¯t brought any way to carry it, except for a jar in the duffle bag that had shattered during the whole ¡®wave of rats¡¯ thing. So they made a note, and figured they¡¯d come back. An hour and a half of exploration later - and it did feel like exploration a bit more now, instead of just walking in a straight line - the trio came to the end of a long bend in the hallway, and saw fifty feet away the mouth of the tunnel. James and Ethan flicked off their flashlights while Anesh, watching their backs, waited a bit more distance before joining them. ¡°Check your armor.¡± James instructed Ethan, as he and Anesh gave their own black shelled forms a once over. They were waiting about twenty feet away from the angry orange light pouring in through the breach in the pipes. ¡°Why?¡± Ethan asked, voice muffled by the mask. ¡°I¡¯d know if I¡¯d been stabbed.¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s a good habit.¡± James said. And he didn¡¯t really need to say more; the kid was already moving to copy him without having to be told twice. But this was the Sewer, and screwing around here was a bad idea. ¡°Also, there¡¯s these maggot things here that can burrow into you and you don¡¯t feel it. Or if there¡¯s any rapid mushroom growths, that¡¯s a problem we¡¯ll need to burn off. Now turn around so I can check your back.¡± Ethan didn¡¯t complain after that, just doubled his efforts with wide eyes. After they¡¯d cleared themselves and made sure their weapons, such as they were, were intact, they moved forward. James and Ethan were carrying quarterstaves, which were, as far as the door into this place was concerned, *absolutely just brooms*. Anesh had brought that binder from the Office that turned impacts into paper, and then also a long ruler that was vector-locked once it was moving at a certain speed. ¡°So, we¡¯re gonna meet your friend?¡± Ethan asked. ¡°I promise you she is not my friend.¡± James replied, shaking his head at the excitement the younger man displayed. ¡°Yet.¡± Anesh added in a wry voice. James looked over at him, narrowing his eyes, as if to say, ¡°Yeah, but like¡­ really?¡± Anesh didn¡¯t respond except to tilt his head and cock his own eyebrows with a shrug that communicated ¡°I mean, yeah? Who do you think you are, mister ¡®friends with a stapler¡¯, huh?¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Ethan said out loud, breaking the spell, ¡°so, I don¡¯t really remember what these things are like, and I kinda forgot to read the manual¡­¡± James sighed. ¡°Ratroaches are basically humanoid, almost always hostile, and smell awful. Their weak points are organs, because they aren¡¯t very well put together. Literally. You can sometimes see vital points through their skin. Aim for those. Or go for disarms; the pseudo-shoulder joint on their extra arm is *very* brittle, and you can snap that off with a good kick. Don¡¯t let them cut you with their knives; they¡¯re almost always infected with something.¡± He glanced over at Ethan, the kid looking a little sick. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°I know.¡± James said. ¡°Or, well, I shouldn¡¯t assume I know what you¡¯re gonna say. But if it¡¯s ¡®that¡¯s either brutal or disgusting¡¯, then yes.¡± ¡°Yeah, what the fuck. And they¡¯re going to try to kill us?¡± Ethan asked. Like he hadn¡¯t just been going through a dungeon. ¡°Is that a surprise?¡± Anesh muttered. ¡°But if they look like people¡­¡± James snorted, and restrained himself from slapping the back of Ethan¡¯s head. ¡°The camracondas don¡¯t look like people, but they are. The ratroaches look people-adjacent, but they aren¡¯t. Except for maybe one or two. We¡¯ll see.¡± He rolled his shoulder, and stepped forward toward the end of the tunnel. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Ready.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Came back. The light was from a source this time, instead of just being omnipresent. A massive burning orb hung above the black gravel rectangle that dominated the center of the arena space. Flickering shadows rolled around the walls and ground, cast by the wire fence, the red stone pillars, and the pack of ratroaches standing in the space. As always, there was a crowd. Fifty, maybe sixty of the creatures, packed close together, many of them pressed against the wire fence around the ¡®court¡¯ in a way that made their fur and skin bulge outward. They did not speak, did not utter any sounds, but they made a rattling noise anyway, slamming their weapons against the fence, the floor, and each other, to create the entrance music for the trio. Many of them still wore scraps of human clothing; taken, James knew, from those who had fallen here. Standing at mid court, there were three ratroaches. Two looked about as ravenous as the rest of the crowd, slavering pink drool dripping from the corners of their misaligned maws. But they stood behind and deferred to the one at the point of their van. ¡°So, I¡¯ve been wondering!¡± James called across the court, their team stopping just before setting foot on the gravel. ¡°Do you just hang out here all day waiting for someone to drop in? Because I can get you a Switch if you want! Jam some Animal Crossing instead of just lurking here with your arms crossed? Eh?¡± She did not look how James remembered, exactly. Again. Pale cream fur marked with patches of ridged chitin or exposed skin, as well as pockets of redcapped mushrooms growing out of her flesh. A head with a rat¡¯s muzzle sloping backward into a more rounded skull, with a single uneven antenna coming out of it. She had four eyes, two very small insectile ones up front and two larger, more mammalian ones farther up her face. Uneven with each other, of course. Two arms jutting out of her right side, a third from the left. And digitigrade legs that ended in clawed feet that already dripped blood on the gravel from where they had been torn up. A mismatched creature. A failure of design. And yet¡­ She was taller than before. No, not exactly taller. Her back was straighter. Her extra arm more independent, supporting her grip on her spear instead of just flailing with it. The patterns of chitin and fur less raw and angrily infected where they met skin. Her eyes were focused on him. All of them. And when she spoke, this time, it wasn¡¯t mangled. ¡°You are baaahk.¡± She gurgled, and the crowd went silent. Still flawed, but far more intelligeable. ¡°More taunts? Afrhaaid to fight?¡± ¡°James.¡± Anesh nudged him quietly and tilted his head at the ratroach behind the leader. James glanced at it, and realized that it too had been modified. It was more sleek, like a sprinter. The other one had more muscle attached. But neither of them came close to how much she¡¯d changed. They still looked like broken prototypes. ¡°Love what you¡¯ve done with yourself.¡± James said. ¡°New skincare routine? Divine intervention, maybe?¡± He prompted. The ratroach shook her head in a gesture that was a blatant misunderstanding of human body language, small blue droplets of spittle sizzling on the ground as she did so. ¡°I rheemake myshelf!¡± She called out. ¡°To offer ouhr god a better praayer. Over and ohver again, uhntil victory, or death. Now come, or they will get hhhungry.¡± The ratroache waved her spear at the crowd around them. James shrugged, and stepped forward. ¡°Your god seems like a dick.¡± He said. And a split second later, slapped aside the spear aimed at his chest. Beside him, Ethan and Anesh engaged the other two, swapping once they realized they had different strengths and weaknesses. But James stuck to his dance partner. It was almost disappointing, but she hadn¡¯t really changed that much, and he still wildly outclassed her. So, he got a little cocky and started throwing taunts as he ducked her stabs. ¡°So hey,¡± he asked, ¡°does it count as a prayer if you keep losing?¡± He kicked her leg out and backed off as she spun her claws out to recover, hissing in response. ¡°I mean, if I were some kind of weird decay and violence god, I¡¯d be kinda mad if my followers kept losing.¡± She screamed, and lunged, and James took the chance to catch her spear, yank it out of her weaker hands, and fling it sideways to trip up the ratroach Ethan was struggling with. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to talk to me eventually.¡± He told his opponent, as she tried to vomit in his eyes. ¡°Come on. We literally do not have to do this.¡± He said, as she tried to tear his throat out. And then, with a sigh, he snapped a kick into her midsection so hard she coughed up blood and bile. ¡°I know you¡¯re smarter than this.¡± He whispered to her as she lay on the ground. ¡°Your god didn¡¯t even build you to last. Come on. Just¡­ just come with me. Your friends can come too. We can find a way to heal you.¡± His taunting was gone now, replaced by just a sad resignation. ¡°Please?¡± James asked. ¡°Ah¡­ ah¡­¡± the ratroach panted. ¡°Ahnd trade¡­ one slaver god¡­ for ahnother?¡± She muttered, a horrifying toothy grin on her maw as she held herself up off the ground, vomit and blood dripping onto the black gravel. ¡°Lose muh.. ma¡­ mhy value?¡± James knelt in front of her. Finally, she was at least talking. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t promise you anything in a way that would be believable, I guess. You¡¯d just have to trust me that¡­ well, that I can help you.¡± He held out a hand to the girl bleeding on the ground in front of him, staring up with confused and pained eyes. The ratroach reached out. Took his hand. And then screamed a laugh as she yanked him forward and drove a knife into his chest. James windmilling his arms as she tackled him backward, losing a grip on the blade now stuck in his chest, but slamming him into the ground regardless. ¡°Weak!¡± She screamed at him. ¡°Khind and *weak*!¡± She raised a hand, pulling another buried knife out of the gravel, and grinned down at him. Then Ethan hit her in the side of the head with his staff, swinging like he was going for a grand slam. Something cracked, and something snapped, and James was pretty sure that the solid wooden stick wasn¡¯t the thing that had just lost the most durability. The ratroach toppled off him, skidding sideways and rolling up in a screaming ball of fur and beetle shell pressed up against the fallen form of one of her teammates. A pair of feet came into James¡¯ vision as Anesh took up a guard position between him and the still moving ratroach. ¡°Holy shit, are you okay?!¡± Ethan asked in a panicked voice. ¡°Yeah, you good?¡± Anesh echoed, much calmer. James stood, taking a deep breath. His chest hurt, but¡­ He grabbed the dagger, the hilt wrapped in what was probably just ratroach hide from an unlucky casualty of this place. And with a quick jerk, he pulled it out. The pain stopped almost right away, as did the bleeding. The ratroach was still letting out pained laughs. ¡°Got you¡­ got you¡­ you¡­ die¡­ a good prayer¡­ got you¡­¡± she was muttering. ¡°Ow.¡± James said, loudly and clearly. Then he tossed the knife onto the ground in front of her, cutting off her mutterings as she saw him stand, eyes widening in disbelief. ¡°So, yeah,¡± James addressed Ethan, ¡°I¡¯m gonna say ¡®not friends¡¯. Also, holy shit, a single point of endurance does a *lot*! Anesh, check this out! Stab me!¡± ¡°No!¡± Anesh gave him an incredulous wide eyed stare, looking around the room as his concern over James being stabbed faded. ¡°Can we leave now? Please?¡± ¡°Yeah. Get the door, you¡¯ve got more sparks than me.¡± The ratroaches around them had gone silent now, even if they were still staring at the victors on the field. Which was perfect, because James had more to say. ¡°I¡¯m going on vacation!¡± He announced to the room. And mostly the one who had stabbed him. And then, in a quieter voice, just to her, he added more. ¡°I¡¯m gonna say it again, because I think you need to hear it. I don¡¯t hate you. And my offer is real. And kindness is not weakness.¡± He stood over her prone form, keeping a slightly more cautious distance this time. ¡°But here¡¯s the bitter part. It won¡¯t last forever. I¡¯m offering you a way out, I¡¯m offering you a hand up. But I am not responsible for you. And if you keep knifing people, some day, you¡¯re just going to get added to the long list of monsters that haven¡¯t survived contact with me.¡± ¡°Yo! I got books, let¡¯s go!¡± Ethan called from over at the exit door. ¡°They¡¯re all still looking at me and I wanna leave!¡± James waved him off, asking for just another minute. Then he sighed. ¡°I see you,¡± he said to the unresponsive ratroach, ¡°and I see a lot of who I used to be. And I want to help you, because¡­ because I know how much it sucks to be angry and full of hate all the time. And maybe you don¡¯t agree. But I dunno. Remake yourself again, and again, as many times as you need to, but remember that you¡¯re on your own until you get help.¡± ¡°James!¡± Anesh yelled, holding the rusted portcullis open. ¡°Come on! I¡¯m not gonna stand here all day.¡± ¡°Coming!¡± James answered back. And then, to his not-friend, he said a goodbye. ¡°See you when I¡¯m back from vacation. I¡¯ll bring you some pictures of mountains.¡± _____ What was original supposed to be a short meeting between James and Anesh, and the other main figures in the Order, had rapidly spiraled out of control. Everyone was here, because everything was suddenly a lot more urgent than expected. There was more to do than anyone had expected. ¡°Maybe¡­¡± James had started, and Karen of all people had cut him off. ¡°You¡¯re going on vacation.¡± She said. ¡°You haven¡¯t taken a day off in¡­¡± Karen trailed off and didn¡¯t finish the sentence. ¡°And also, I suspect you¡¯re not sleeping. You need time off, to prevent burnout. Everyone else, eventually.¡± There was a group of people here James didn¡¯t recognize. Mostly young, athletic looking men and women, keeping to themselves off to the side of the room. A number of different yellow orb skills flared when he looked at them, nudging his brain to notice how they watched things, how they were all armed. When JP swept by and handed them all packets of paper, James realized what he was looking at. Rogues. He¡¯d go say hi in a bit. JP could hire who he wanted, but James would be damned if he didn¡¯t immerse them in the Order¡¯s culture. Then, the discussion had started. And the planning had gotten so long winded, that Nate had found the time to sneak away and prepare a buffet dinner. Three dungeons. Or at least, three points of interest. One was a sort of known factor, James and Anesh would be tackling that, under the guise of a road trip. Or maybe the other way around. The other two were going to require investigation, and exploration, in new and potentially deadly spaces. The teams had come together in the end, but there was *fierce* competition to actually be part of them. Especially from the newer members. In the end, it was decided to send two people to each region the old fashioned way, secure a hotel or other space, and then telepad in the rest. Fourteen person crews for each dungeon. Each one containing experienced combatants, members of Research, at least one rogue, and two or three new members of the Order to avoid monopolization of power, and also to get the people who were most excited some field experience. They would not be holding back on equipment, and they would not be sparing any cost. Money was less important than a safe first delve. Even the Office, after all, had things like the camracondas; things that were functionally auto-kills on any delver that didn¡¯t get lucky enough or wasn¡¯t prepared for it. Also, while this was going on, the FBI had requested the Order¡¯s help on another missing person¡¯s case. This time not a missing employee, but a cold case that they¡¯d decided to use the Order¡¯s expertise to work though the backlog of. JP and DeKay were on that, bringing with them another pair of the agents in training. Which would have left a power vacuum in the Lair, if that was the way they operated. But it really wasn¡¯t. Harvey would continue running the Response program, and while he wasn¡¯t happy with James choosing a slower than desired speed, he had been given the green light to reach out to local advocates for police reform, and make contact. The Response crews would be understrength with so many people out, so local dungeon activity was being dialed down until they could recruit enough to resume normal operations. Sarah and the group she was working with for the Clutter Ascent would remain active as normal, which was at this point the main group seeing to the mental health needs of the Order. And Karen wasn¡¯t going, having fully transitioned into being a combination dispute resolution machine and budget master. So there¡¯d be someone on hand to solve most problems of that nature. As it stood, it was strange, but since their main activity was simply delving known dungeons, it didn¡¯t disrupt the whole Order that much to transition to exploring potential new dungeons. Even if their supposed leader was on vacation. It made James feel both comforted, and mildly dejected. But only mildly. While everyone was around, people took the opportunity to discuss the different magics that were running rampant. Reed handed out the new shield bracers to everyone who¡¯d be heading out that didn¡¯t already have one of the more developed Status Quo versions. People talked about yellow or blue orbs they¡¯d found, sometimes that they wished they¡¯d been able to copy, sometimes that they were glad they hadn¡¯t. Someone had gotten two ranks of ¡®glaive¡¯ from a yellow, and one of the new girls, Chevoy, had practically jumped at the chance to fabricate something in the basement that would trigger the skill. One rank in a weird weapon skill still almost always made it more worth it to use that than anything a person had only been training with for a month or two. Some people had triggered their bonds, gained from the Clutter Ascent sticks. It wasn¡¯t just James and Anesh; the templating had changed on all of them. James and Anesh took the time to test their sharing of speed, too, and found that it thankfully wouldn¡¯t kill them if they used it in a car. It was *their* speed, not the car¡¯s speed. And it was kind of a silly definition of the word, too. They could dial it up or down, how much they were pouring into the other person, and it basically just made the partner faster. Or slower. You *could* take, instead of give, without asking. The bonds were a massive trust exercise. Especially since no one knew if they could ¡®break¡¯. The other people who¡¯d gotten bonds could share vision, and rhetoric, and both of those were really fun to see in action. Also, the Order¡¯s first improvised theater group had made their first collective level up. They all had a vague impression of having to choose together, and needing to reach a consensus about their choice before it stuck. They were all now one point higher up on ¡®motivation¡¯. And it showed. Dramatically. Pun mostly not intended. And everyone, practically *everyone*, who had any kind of even remotely physical role, had been abusing the exercise potions like they were water in the desert. Push yourself to the point of near breaking, down one of those, *feel* as your muscles rebuilt themselves stronger and harder, and then do it all again. With a properly designed regimen, someone who had spent most of their life out of the gym could cram two year¡¯s worth of strength training into about a *week*. So it was that the Order mobilized. With spirited debate over who should go where, over what to do about the AI in the basement, over whether or not Dave should keep flying Pendragon without filing flight plans with the FAA. But ultimately, with excitement and eagerness to see just how weird the world really was. It was infectious, even to James. There was, as one of the interns put it, ¡°a lot of misinformation about how normal everything is¡±, and everyone here had seen just enough to know that the normal was a disguise. That there was more behind the curtain. And yeah, not everyone was going out to peek. Some of them were staying here, content to continue forming a private peacekeeping force, or learning how to duplicate buildings. Those poor souls, so stuck in their boring, grey routines. But just being around, being close to where the secrets were being collected like coins in a dragon¡¯s horde? It was electrifying. Like the rooms behind the hidden doors truly were endless. Almost made James regret going on vacation in the middle of it, until he remembered where he was headed in the first place. Chapter 147 If you want to build a ship, don''t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea. - Antoine de Saint-Exupery - ¡°Do we have everything?¡± Anesh asked, for the eight time. ¡°For the tenth time,¡± James lied, ¡°yes, we have everything. Probably.¡± He rolled his shoulder, loosening up the muscle as he looked at the loaded trunk of their new car. Well. ¡°New¡± was a bit of a lie, too. With James¡¯ car currently busy being a piece of sculpture, and Anesh¡¯s vehicle busy being a cramped sedan that no one wanted to actually road trip across the country in, James had tasked Karen with purchasing him a new car. Then the woman, hoarding wealth like a draconian accountant, had both assigned a high schooler to find something on a budget, and budgeted not a whole lot to the purchase. Which is why James was looking at a ¡®new¡¯ car that was, functionally, his old car, but five years newer, and with the wrong texture of seats. Also it had been bought at a police auction, and they had needed to have a window that had been smashed in replaced. Also it was the wrong color. But it passed mechanical inspection, it had windows like a goddamn fishbowl, and trunk space that was roughly enough for two small orgies concurrently. ¡°Why do you need to describe it that way.¡± Anesh had flatly asked James, shoulders slumping. ¡°In case it¡¯s relevant!¡± James beamed at him, eliciting a laugh in return. Crammed into that trunk at present were two bags of clothing, one empty duffel bag for laundry, a standard delver loadout kit, two grocery bags full of mostly granola bars and chips, a cooler full of drinks, and a single small blue nylon lunch container that currently held roughly twenty days worth of food for the two of them. There were weapons in the car, but they were under the back seat, out of sight until needed. No sense looking for trouble. The backseat also contained both Ganesh and Rufus. And a small cactus Rufus insisted on bringing along. James was currently unsure if the cactus was alive. ¡°This feels like old times.¡± James grinned at his partner as he plugged his phone into the car¡¯s stereo and queued up something jazzy. It was a beautiful day to start a trip. Early spring air, sunlight that was better than freezing grey gloom, but wasn¡¯t too bright or too hot. It wasn¡¯t early enough to really be early morning anymore, but the world felt a little quiet, a little crisp. Just the right time to roll the dice, and hope for sun instead of approaching thunderstorms. ¡°Wait, shit, the dog!¡± Anesh unbuckled the seatbelt he¡¯d just put on and made to get out of the car. ¡°Sarah will be walking Auberdeen, and I already gave today¡¯s good doggo some pets and sent her on her way. It was one of those long dogs. Like, with the weird triangular faces. I can never remember the name. O-something? Orboi? Anyway. Sarah also has a backup arranged in case she dies or gets mind wiped or captured again.¡± Anesh rebuckled his seatbelt. ¡°I hate that our lives contain that caveat.¡± ¡°I mean, to be fair, the backup is *you*. How¡¯s it feel, by the way? Being this spread out?¡± James asked honestly. It was a fair question; Anesh currently had three iterations of himself active, with one across the country, and another about to embark on a road trip where wifi would be spotty at best and syncing up would be basically impossible without abusing the telepads. And it wasn¡¯t like they couldn¡¯t do that, but it was meant to be a *vacation*. Time off, not time worrying. ¡°It feels pretty fine, honestly.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Closest I¡¯ve felt to normal in a while, though I don¡¯t know if that makes it good or bad. Bloody confusing is what it is, if I think about it too hard.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll still trade you powers.¡± James said as he started the engine. ¡°You want some mortar skills? Maybe a few dozen points of emotional resonance? I¡¯ve got a wide selection of things I¡¯ll part with!¡± ¡°I am ninety percent sure that¡¯s not how it works.¡± Anesh commented as they got underway. ¡°And I should know. I know math. Also isn¡¯t your power attracting trouble?¡± ¡°Yeah, I multiclassed into bard when no one was looking.¡± The two of them laughed, joined by excited noises from the two life forms in their back seat, as James pulled out of their apartment¡¯s parking lot and onto the main road. A good start to a casual, relaxing adventure. _____ ¡°So, how¡¯ve ya been?¡± James asked Anesh casually after the got on the highway. He¡¯d waited until the highway because it was ten AM on a Wednesday, which meant that driving around here was kind of awful until you got a certain distance away from a city and onto the impossibly long roads that connected those islands of humanity. James had grown up in this town, knew it fairly well, and it jarred him to see it change from a small suburb of Portland with barely twenty thousand people in it, to a small city in its own right with over a hundred thousand souls living in honestly not that much more space than the original borders had marked out. It made traffic awful, was the point. So, the trick was to save the conversation for when you could see trees on the sides of the road again, and then you knew you were basically safe. ¡°I¡¯ve been okay. Honestly, I¡¯ve just kinda been coasting. The duplication ritual doesn¡¯t need me there to supervise anymore, so I¡¯ve got personal time on delves. And outside of that, I guess I¡¯m mostly just relaxing. Talking to people at the Lair, working with the camracondas, whatever seems interesting. Napping a lot!¡± Anesh grinned sheepishly. ¡°I feel a bit lazy, honestly. Compared to you.¡± ¡°Not worried about forgetting all the numbers you learned?¡± James ribbed him. Anesh grinned and sunk back into his seat, before trying again to adjust it to something that was comfortable for a long drive. ¡°Nah. At least one of me is using the knowledge. Besides, I just finished a masters degree in three years. I deserve a rest. Even if I did cheat a little.¡± ¡°A little.¡± James made air quotes, holding the wheel with his knees for the second it took. ¡°Anesh, how smart *are* you? If we get you one of the sewer books and it ups your intelligence, would anyone notice?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got some chops.¡± Anesh wore a smug little self satisfied smile. ¡°Hey, speaking of your math degree, what ever happened with that girl you were dating?¡± James casually asked. Anesh coughed, turned dark red through the natural tone of his skin, and found some *very* interesting trees to look at out the window. ¡°We weren¡¯t dating!¡± He protested. ¡°I was tutoring her!¡± ¡°Over coffee. Once a week.¡± James was smiling as he teased his partner. ¡°That is how tutoring works, James! You have to schedule it!¡± Anesh riposted. ¡°But¡­ uh¡­¡± He glanced back at James, looking for something in his face before turning to stare awkwardly out the window again. ¡°I dunno. Maybe she wanted to date. It felt weird. I know you and Alanna are full-speed-ahead on being polyamorous, but I still don¡¯t know how I feel about it, and I didn¡¯t want to upset either of you.¡± ¡°Aw!¡± James reached over and laid a hand on Anesh¡¯s arm. It was, admittedly, a little awkward to try to comfort someone when you were going eighty miles an hour. But it helped that Anesh was dumping most of his speed, whatever that was, into James at the moment. ¡°We never wanted to make you feel actually bad! And I¡¯ll stop teasing you, if it¡¯s really a problem.¡± James promised. ¡°Thing is, both of us thought you were really cute about it. And¡­ upset us? I honestly don¡¯t think Alanna knows how to be jealous. And I¡¯m not perfect, I admit. I don¡¯t have a good hold on my feelings all the time. But fuck¡¯s sake, you can just make more of yourself. You, of everyone on Earth, get to skip the biggest logistical hurdle of being poly. You *always have enough time for everyone*.¡± ¡°...I honestly hadn¡¯t thought of that.¡± Anesh said, perking up, eyes wide. ¡°I¡­ was more or less focused on whether or not you¡¯d be mad that I liked someone else.¡± ¡°Anesh¡­¡± James tried to think of how to phrase this. ¡°I love *you*. I don¡¯t love owning you.¡± He paused, then cleared his throat. ¡°That might have been too sappy.¡± ¡°Posh. I¡¯ll take it.¡± Anesh said with a goofy grin on his face. ¡°But we can go back to talking about work if you want.¡± James had to resist the urge to throw his hands up. ¡°I was trying to talk about something other than work!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t help that our work is honestly pretty great.¡± Anesh noted. ¡°When it¡¯s not terrifying, obviously.¡± ¡°There¡¯s been a lot of terrifying lately.¡± James quietly muttered. ¡°Oof.¡± Anesh vocalized an agreement. ¡°That said, how¡¯ve *you* been? We haven¡¯t really talked about the¡­ thing.¡± ¡°What, the thing that tried to eat my personality and replace me with a puppet? Yeah, not doing great ¡®bout that!¡± James heard his voice crack as he spoke. ¡°Yikes! There¡¯s so many problems with that thing, and I am not comfortable with it existing!¡± ¡°Yes, that thing. Are you planning to just ignore it?¡± Anesh quietly asked, sounding a little nervous. ¡°Pretty much!¡± James tried to sound chipper, but it came out strained. ¡°I¡¯ve decided to not sleep anymore, and to distract myself with projects.¡± ¡°Like stealing part of our parking lot.¡± ¡°I own the parking lot regardless of where it is!¡± James declared. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s flat, or formed into frictionless ball joints meant to puppet an asphalt mecha!¡± ¡°The real estate company is not going to agree with you.¡± Anesh quipped. ¡°They can fight my giant robot.¡± James grumbled. Anesh held up a series of fingers and started ticking off points. ¡°A, that¡¯s unethical. B, they¡¯re not going to have their own giant robot to make it a fair fight. C, it¡¯s not a robot, it¡¯s a¡­ I mean, it¡¯s really more of a bipedal tank¡­¡± ¡°I wanted to make it quadrupedal, but it makes it harder to disassociate into it.¡± James noted. ¡°And *D*,¡± Anesh finished, ¡°you really need to actually sleep. Please?¡± He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing out at the the greenery and the other cars flowing past. ¡°It can¡¯t be good for you.¡± ¡°No side effects so far.¡± James glibly replied. But then, more seriously, ¡°But¡­ I¡¯ll try. Also Sarah isn¡¯t here to help me cover me with bonus naps, so¡­ I¡¯ll try. I just worry.¡± ¡°Nightmares?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been through a lot.¡± He said. ¡°You really should talk to one of our therapists.¡± ¡°I do.¡± James told him. ¡°It helps. It¡¯s not perfect, though. Also, not to derail this serious talk, but can you check maps and see if I need to take that exit? Because we have two minutes to figure it out, and if I remember wrong, we¡¯re going to end up in California again.¡± ¡°A most dire fate.¡± Anesh noted, turning to look in the back seat where Ganesh and Rufus had tilted up a tablet screen for him, and Ganesh was pointing with a curved leg at the direction listed at the top. ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh said, twisting back to his seat. ¡°Take that exit, or we¡¯re going south.¡± James did so, easily as the traffic was really starting to thin ou here. ¡°So, the big thing that annoys me, more than scares me? Is that I honestly spent a lot of time trying to mentally separate myself from my depression. Trying to really, really *know*, that it wasn¡¯t what made me unique, wasn¡¯t what made me who I am. And my reward for that is to be proven absolutely wrong.¡± ¡°Wait what?! No!¡± Anesh looked alarmed. ¡°Wrong! Wrong lesson to learn!¡± ¡°You sure?¡± James raised sarcastic eyebrows, even though Anesh probably couldn¡¯t see from that angle. ¡°Because it seems like the takeaway.¡± ¡°Just because something *tried to kill you* doesn¡¯t mean that learning about yourself is invalid!¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t learn anything real.¡± James pointed out. ¡°I just learned, in the end, that getting rid of my depression legitimately would make me someone else.¡± Anesh looked furious, and sounded that way too. ¡°Sure, if you use the *cursed potion of living death*, you bloody idiot!¡± He yelled. ¡°That¡¯s like saying that surgery is a failed medical field because amputating your arm with lawn shears didn¡¯t go well for you! Also, *actual antidepressants* exist, and we have more than enough wealth to get you an endless supply!¡± He let his voice drift back to a normal level. ¡°Honestly not sure why we didn¡¯t do that earlier.¡± ¡°Sometimes I honestly forget that non-magic solutions exist.¡± James told him with a guilty wince. ¡°Also I¡¯m¡­ bad at taking care of myself.¡± His boyfriend frowned menacingly back at him from across the car¡¯s center console. ¡°This is why we need Alanna back. To bully you into being healthier.¡± ¡°Alright. So, anyway¡­!¡± James started, a small trickle of laughter in his voice, along with a desire to change the subject and fully break the tension. ¡°Ah. Uh¡­ can you hold that thought?¡± Anesh asked him. ¡°Momo has just texted me eight time asking about fractals.¡± ¡°We have been gone¡± James said with a very disappointed tone, ¡°for two hours. Tops.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna tell her to message the other me.¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine. Go ahead and answer.¡± James flapped a hand, deciding on amusement over annoyance for his mood today. ¡°We¡¯ve got four or five days on the road. We¡¯ve got *time* to chat. I don¡¯t mind distractions.¡± He said. ¡°Alright, but I¡¯m coming back to this eldritch horror in a bottle thing.¡± Anesh said, already typing back to Momo on his phone. ¡°It¡¯s cool, I¡¯ve got a series of deflections lined up.¡± James joked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nothing!¡± James shifted his grip on the wheel, adjusted his posture a little, and relaxed. There was a long drive ahead, no sense burning too much mental energy so early. _____ There was a rhythm to road trips that James remembered fondly and that Anesh found bizarre. Rufus and Ganesh didn¡¯t seem to notice the pattern, but then, they mostly seemed enraptured just staring out the back window. A whole enormous world opening up for the two of them. For Anesh, who wasn¡¯t native to the US, and had spent most of his time in the states in or around one city for college and one suburb for sleeping when not at college, the process was almost divine madness. By the time they¡¯d crossed Oregon¡¯s eastern border, they¡¯d covered enough distance to have gone through half of his entire country. The road wound on, and on, and *on*, over the horizon, through mountains and valleys, thin forests and thick grasslands, so much open space that it boggled the mind why anyone would put a road there at all in the first place. But for James? He¡¯d never taken *this* trip, but he knew the pattern. Drive, watch the sky, watch the clouds drift and the colors shift. Become lost in the music, until the music was too loud all of a sudden. Then, become lost in the silence. When the silence became deafening, have a conversation. Loop as needed. They weren¡¯t in the pattern yet. They were still talking too much. It took a while to get there, though. To that deeper feeling of time that lived on the road and in the big empty spaces between the towns and gas station off ramps. And there was no rush. They had two thousand miles of road to become familiar with it. The car, which James was becoming increasingly happy with the more he drove, climbed a winding switchback without complaint. Anesh had the window down, letting in dust and bugs, the latter of which Ganesh danced after, burning off excited drone energy. He had the stereo playing Highway to Hell. It was the first of many road trip songs James had prepared. It would not be the first time it was played on this trip. _____ ¡°The mountains around here are beautiful.¡± Anesh noted. Outside his window, over a sheer drop that the car would not survive no matter how much magic they poured into it if James were to drive off the edge, a carpet of trees stretched away. This was logging territory, and they could see from their rising vantage point, small bald patches where logs had been cleared away and saplings had yet to regrow. The rest of the area, though, was the confident dark green of pine or fir trees, growing in an artificial grid which became instantly unnoticeable by any human observer once they got large enough and merged into a single tree-mass that the eye could no longer track. Well, James could track it. He could look deeper and see the patterns. But it would give him a headache, so he kept that purple orb dialed down. ¡°You know what¡¯s really amusing is, a while back, someone planted a bunch of deciduous trees up here in a smiley face pattern.¡± James laughed a little. ¡°So it looked normal from a distance, until fall rolled around, and then there was a bright orange smiley face on the side of the mountain.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°What, here?¡± Anesh looked out again, trying to find it. James shrugged. ¡°Probably not literally here, that would be a huge coincidence. But somewhere around here! In this biome, anyway!¡± ¡°This biome is the size of New Zealand.¡± Anesh complained. ¡°Objectively untrue, but I¡¯m sure it appreciates the comparison.¡± ¡°You know, a coincidence like that wouldn¡¯t be out of place for us, right?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°We run into a lot of coincidences.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. We¡¯re cursed.¡± James said, with a tone of voice that suggested utter conviction in his words to the point that he was almost bored by them. ¡°Beg pardon?¡± ¡°Cursed. Or something curse-adjacent.¡± James ¡®clarified¡¯. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ okay, look at the trajectory of our lives. I stumble into working for a company that houses a dungeon. Then discover the dungeon itself. Then it turns out there¡¯s not only more dungeons in our area, but also a hostile agency that hunts delvers. And then, we learn that everything we know about dungeons is at odds with what that agency believes? Nah. That¡¯s some kinda cosmic fate, right there. So, we must be cursed, because the outcome is that I don¡¯t sleep anymore and never have time to play video games.¡± ¡°Okay, so, I¡¯ve actually been wanting to talk about Status Quo.¡± Anesh caught onto one specific point James had brought up. ¡°I don¡¯t think they were real.¡± He said. James felt his hands clench into claws on the steering wheel. ¡°Wanna take that again?¡± He asked. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t think they were what they thought they were.¡± Anesh wasn¡¯t blind to the suddenly tense atmosphere in the car. ¡°I think¡­ I think they were someone else¡¯s tool. The agents and their leadership obviously thought they were doing the right thing, but I think they were tricked into it. Someone was using them. Otherwise, it doesn¡¯t make any fucking sense how they could be so blind to what the dungeons were. Are.¡± ¡°Status Quo was generational, though.¡± James muttered. Then he thought about that for a second, and the concern at Anesh¡¯s theory got a lot worse. ¡°Wait, so, who¡¯s using them, then?¡± ¡°Something like the Old Gun, maybe. Or maybe a part of the government. A person or institution that¡¯s a hundred years old at least.¡± Anesh reached out and turned the cold air coming through the car¡¯s vents up by just a hair, seeking an equilibrium of comfort that road trips never provided. ¡°Hell, it could be another dungeon. But if you look at what Status Quo was doing¡­ well, the administration *said* they were keeping the world stable. But you know what keeps the world stable? Killing off dungeons.¡± ¡°And we know dungeons need delvers, in some way.¡± James nodded. ¡°Or some form of food, anyway. You ever wonder if dungeons just straight up kidnap and eat people sometimes? I know the Office had something like that going on, but that wasn¡¯t the dungeon itself, right?¡± Anesh shuddered. ¡°I think about that constantly, yes, thank you.¡± He said. ¡°Actually, it being another dungeon pulling the strings makes sense.¡± James said. ¡°Remember, Officium Mundi proactively tried to kill a lot of people. And we know at least one of them had alarmingly synergistic powers with the orbs. Maybe dungeons have an ecosystem, and this is a form of competition?¡± ¡°Or maybe I¡¯m wrong, and Status Quo were just powerfully stupid while being stupidly powerful.¡± Anesh hummed a bit. ¡°We can¡¯t really know, and all our investigations into their documentation gives us nothing.¡± ¡°We could just¡­ hm.¡± James trailed off. ¡°You know, we have an alarming number of world shaking tools, and yet, almost none of them make us good investigators?¡± ¡°It¡¯s frustrating, yes.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°And there¡¯s so many things we don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James snapped his fingers as he remembered something. ¡°You know what I wanna know? How did Momo make a red item?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Well, okay, so, we have a long standing theory that the copier is an ¡®item¡¯, like a lot of the dungeontech, but made with a red orb, right?¡° Anesh rolled his eyes at James. ¡°Please,¡± he said, ¡°give me the courtesy of knowing everything about that damn overhead projector.¡± He tilted his head back, and noticed Ganesh crawling up the side of his seat. Offering a hand to the little drone, Anesh settled back and gave his friend some wing pets. ¡°Okay, well, before we first went to go fight Status Quo, Momo gave me a padlock, and instructions on how to use it. And I got the implication that it was a red item she¡¯d *made*. Mostly because it was one-use, but she still knew how it worked. But I keep forgetting to ask her about it, and part of that is that I haven¡¯t seen her make any more, so I never remember.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ short term memory upgrade is great and all, but I am still scatterbrained as hell.¡± ¡°James¡­¡± Anesh narrowed his eyes, speaking slowly. ¡°Yo.¡± ¡°When could you possibly have talked to Momo that day? The day you and Nate saved Lua and the two kids, right?¡± ¡°Right before we left for the school.¡± James said. ¡°Momo grabbed some people and followed us, got there just at the end. Why?¡± He felt something, creeping in on the edges of his skin. Something cold, and worrying. ¡°Why?¡± He repeated, harder this time. ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t want to worry you, but I don¡¯t *think* that timeline matches up.¡± Anesh said. ¡°And we can ask Momo when we get back, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s ever made a red item.¡± There was an oppressive quiet in the car. Just the engine and the tires on the road fading to white noise, and a badly timed pause in the quiet music, and James realizing that he hadn¡¯t been paying attention enough. Again. ¡°Well.¡± He said, eventually. ¡°Fuck.¡± ¡°We should turn around. Telepad back, right now.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Nah.¡± James sighed, a certain tension weirdly draining away rather than building up. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± He said. ¡°What?!¡± ¡°Okay, think about this. Whoever, whatever that was, that wasn¡¯t Momo, was giving us material aid. If they were hostile, then they¡¯re someone that can warp time as a weapon, and we¡¯re fucked anyway. Unless our defenses on the Lair are enough now. EIther way, they¡¯re either not against us, can¡¯t find us, or it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± James laughed. A bitter, dark laugh. The kind that could end with tears, if it went too far. But it didn¡¯t, this time. Instead, he just added, ¡°You know, it¡¯s about fucking time we had a god on *our* side.¡± ¡°I sincerely doubt they¡¯re ¡®on our side¡¯.¡± Anesh grimly reminded him. ¡°Oh, me too. But I like to fantasize.¡± ¡°Should we even tell anyone?¡± ¡°Yes. We should blip back when we pull over for food, tell a few people, including Momo, and just check in. But aside from that, I¡¯m not letting something from six months ago ruin my vacation!¡± ¡°You¡¯re really determined to enjoy this, huh?¡± ¡°I want to feel the wind in my hair, dammit!¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t that just¡­ like, your hair¡¯s pretty long. Won¡¯t that just mess it up and get it in your eyes?¡± James dramatically deflated. ¡°Yeah, movies lied to me.¡± He said. ¡°Also, when *are* we pulling over for food?¡± ¡°Well, there¡¯s a sign for a diner up ahead. Why not now? You can teleport from the bathrooms.¡± James suggested. Anesh crossed his arms, and on his shoulder, Ganesh mimicked the gesture. ¡°This is the kind of coincidence I¡¯m talking about.¡± He grumbled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go to a cursed diner.¡± There was a moment. A moment where James almost, *almost*, reassured his boyfriend that there was *no way* some random diner on a forested mountain road would be cursed, or haunted, or secretly a front for a shadowy cult, or any other nonsense they dealt with on a daily basis. Then James realized what he was about to do, and he shut his mouth, nodded, and made the turn into the gravel parking lot in silence. _____ The diner was actually half restaurant, half camping supply store, for the people who were on their way to get lost in the mountains and realized last minute that they could do with an extra pair of clean thermal socks. The experience of walking through the shop side to the food side was a little strange, passing through a room that seemed paradoxically smaller on the inside than the facade of the building made it seem. Shouldering past carved wooden bears and trying not to knock over bushels of fishing rods that looked like they came from every decade of the last century. The restaurant side actually had a door, as the grinning man polishing the counter looked like he was almost unhealthily excited to tell them. But if he did have that impulse, he held it in, greeted the two, and told them to take any table they liked. As James got settled and started looking over the menu, which was, he realized, the same menu as every small town diner he¡¯d ever been in, Anesh made a covert trip to the restroom and, via magical teleporting notepad, the Lair. When he finally came back, James had already gotten himself a milkshake, and ordered Anesh a sweet tea. Anesh sat down, plopping a three ring binder full of papers onto the table next to his drink. ¡°You know, it¡¯s a little weird that you know what my drink of choice is.¡± He commented. ¡°Well, we *are* dating.¡± James said with a happy note in his voice. ¡°Besides that, we spend a probably worrying amount of our time together at places like this. I think I know more about your eating habits than I do about your childhood.¡± He paused. ¡°Actually, that¡¯s¡­ probably legitimately true. Dang. Do we not talk enough?¡± ¡°I dunno.¡± Anesh admitted quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually been in a relationship before. How much are we supposed to talk?¡± He asked. ¡°We should ask Sarah. She¡¯ll know.¡± ¡°Good call.¡± The smiling proprietor chose that moment to wander to their table. ¡°What can I get for you boys tonight?¡± He asked in a cheerful voice. ¡°Burger and fries, well done please.¡± James asked. ¡°Anesh?¡± ¡°Same, but a veggie burger.¡± He said. ¡°And not well done, because that would be silly.¡± The man laughed, a big belly laugh that would have turned heads if anyone else had been here. ¡°You got it!¡± He wandered back to the kitchen, not bothering to write down their orders. ¡°I wonder what it would be like?¡± James mused. ¡°Working a job like this. Maybe owning a place like this. One person, relying on the highway and a string of other people¡¯s vacations to make a living. Quiet days and characters like us.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not characters yet to him.¡± Anesh pointed out, flipping open his binder and turning to the second page. ¡°He hasn¡¯t had time to know how weird we are yet.¡± James shrugged, and shifted back into the worn fake leather padding of the booth¡¯s bench. ¡°So, light reading?¡± He asked. ¡°JP¡¯s reports. Well, the rogue division reports.¡± Anesh replied. ¡°Hey, have you noticed that all our divisions are r-words?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve really been trying not to.¡± James answered, leaning his head back with his eyes closed. It was nice to just sit and relax for a bit; driving for hours was more work than people thought. Anesh chuckled as he turned a page. ¡°Well, I figured it¡¯d be good to catch up on some stuff. I¡¯m almost positive Nate is the reason everyone has to write these, not JP, too. Because the ones JP wrote are *very* sarcastic.¡± ¡°I¡¯m shocked.¡± ¡°That said, hey, here¡¯s something weird that¡¯s been bothering me.¡± Anesh looked up from the book, taking a sip of his drink from the long straw. ¡°You know how the Lair has¡­ some basements?¡± ¡°Some basements is the most understated term I¡¯ve ever-¡° ¡°So what happens if the building is demolished? Or if the elevator and stairs were removed?¡± Anesh rolled over James¡¯ snark. ¡°What happens to our extra closet if our apartment remodels, or gets converted into a warehouse or something?¡± ¡°Um¡­ probably transfers over.¡± James thought about it. ¡°Like how the value-added orbs seem to set a floor to the value of a space. Maybe? Wait, but yeah. What if all the stairs are gone? How would anyone build new stairs to the basements?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Anesh cocked a finger at him. ¡°So, JP and DeKay were at this little yacht town-¡° ¡°What.¡± ¡°-a town where the main tourist attraction is boating, please let me finish. Anyway, missing persons case, our kind of antimemetics stuff, all that. But the place they found the people was in a lighthouse. Not even kidnapped or anything. Just inside a lighthouse, that no longer connected to the outside.¡± ¡°What the fuck?¡± James opened his eyes and leaned forward, forgoing his nap to engage with the conversation. ¡°How¡¯d they get in?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a place that¡¯s hard to remember, but the records of it exist. They just kinda fumbled through it, and then telepaded out with the survivors.¡± ¡°What about the lighthouse itself?¡± James asked. ¡°Did they get rid of it? Is it a dungeon?¡± ¡°Not a dungeon. It seems like it¡¯s something akin to what the green orbs do. Someone made a space special, or added an outside effect onto a place, and then it got¡­ lost. Forgotten. It¡¯s a little pocket of weirdness, and people probably loved it at some point. But now it¡¯s just a Venus flytrap for humans.¡± ¡°Grim.¡± James frowned. ¡°So¡­ what do we do with this?¡± ¡°I mean, we should be on the lookout for hidden spaces, I guess.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Not much else we can do. Even Momo¡¯s AI can¡¯t make sense of this thing. But then, they weren¡¯t made for it. But we don¡¯t have a way to find these places. All we can really do is check in every week or so, make sure no one is trapped in there. I guess we *could* demolish it, but¡­¡± ¡°But that would be a travesty.¡± James sighed. ¡°Remember when Alanna describes Officium Mundi as like the Grand Canyon? Dangerous to screw around with, but beautiful, and valuable to everyone.¡± ¡°You ever think we¡¯re being selfish, keeping the dungeons to ourselves?¡± Anesh asked, not looking up from his reading. ¡°Name one person or group you trust to use them better than we¡¯re trying to.¡± James countered Without pause, Anesh just replied, ¡°No.¡± Their eyes met, and they both cracked smiles. Which is how the cook found them when he came out of the kitchen with their food. ¡°Ah! Thank you!¡± James enthusiastically crammed a fry into his mouth, ignoring the heat. ¡°You boys yell if you need anything.¡± The man wandered back behind the counter to clean something, probably for the tenth time today. ¡°So, anything in there about the depression monster?¡± James asked Anesh as they both dug into their food. ¡°Or are we just ignoring that and hoping it goes away.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a worst case scenario analysis, yes.¡± Anesh frowned. ¡°It¡¯s not good.¡± He spoke around a mouthful of tomato and lettuce. ¡°But it¡¯s also unlikely that we¡¯re dealing with an exponential crisis. The potion didn¡¯t duplicate. But it did refill. So it seems like what it¡¯s meant to do is take over one person, and then be passed on. Unless it just refilled because it didn¡¯t take on you? But that would be the good option, and you know how that¡¯s been for us lately. Nate has people watching the Alchemists, but there is legitimately no way to know who¡¯s been¡­ um¡­¡± ¡°Hollowed out and filled up with someone else.¡± James whispered. ¡°Yes, that. Thanks for that mental image.¡± ¡°S¡¯what I¡¯m here for. Welcome to Sad Hour.¡± ¡°Yeah. Well.¡± Anesh sighed. Flipped through a few more pages. ¡°Honestly not a lot we can do except keep an eye on the situation, and intercept any more attempts. Which seems to be a lot of what we do now?¡± ¡°I¡¯m cool with that.¡± James admitted. ¡°Feels very clean that way. Compared to, like, raiding Status Quo, or whatever. Self defense just seems more ethical. And *yes*,¡± he pointed at Anesh with a fry, dripping ketchup onto one of the pages of the binder of reports, ¡°I am aware that what we did was probably necessary and saved lives long term. I don¡¯t think it was wrong. I just think it¡¯s nice to have some stand up fights from time to time. Because I like being unambiguously heroic. It¡¯s a personal fantasy.¡± ¡°James, everyone within a hundred mile radius is aware of that.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°The guy behind the counter knows that, and he¡¯s only been listening in on our conversation for ten minutes.¡± ¡°What.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ so, anything else fun in that book of joy?¡± James asked, trying not to instantly turn and lock eyes with the diner¡¯s one cook and server who was, now that he thought about it, really trying to be just inside of earshot. ¡°We¡¯re not doing a good job tracking the Old Gun. Or finding other organizations in our line of work. Though, that said, it¡¯s not like we¡¯re hiring spies out of the intelligence community. We¡¯re recruiting people who¡¯re more or less in our ideological wheelhouse, and then training them into spies. So they¡¯re all still kinda new, and we¡¯re not going to have experts for a while. Oh, that said, Nate has a request in here somewhere¡­¡± Anesh flipped through the pages until he found the one that wasn¡¯t a report. ¡°Yeah, he wants us to build another AI, or an infomorph, to do data analysis.¡± James wasn¡¯t happy with that, but he could understand the logic behind the thought. ¡°That makes sense.¡± He said. ¡°Modern intelligence communities are really more about following money and filtering out what¡¯s important and what¡¯s not, than actually sending one James Bond in to stop the problem. But¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°Ah, the but.¡± ¡°...but we don¡¯t make life to be tools. We make tools, to be tools. We make life to¡­ to be our descendents. Our children. Our friends. You know, we could have saved so much time on that dumb asphalt mech idea if we¡¯d just crammed some yellow orbs into it, instead of working to make a pilot system? But then¡­ what are we bringing life to? Creating a person, just to tell them they¡¯re purpose in the world is to be a glorified forklift? Fuck that.¡± ¡°And less importantly, but I still *must* know,¡± Anesh added, ¡°what would you name a golem like that?¡± ¡°Anton.¡± James snapped off the answer. ¡°...Why?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s Checkov¡¯s Gundam, and I¡¯ve been holding onto that pun for a week, so thanks for helping me out there.¡± James laughed. Then he put his serious face back on. ¡°But really. No making task based life like that. Hell, I¡¯m iffy on Momo¡¯s AI. It seems *super* creepy to create a living creature that¡¯s driven by desires that you chose for it. Like¡­ oh, what¡¯s the term. Personality stapling?¡± ¡°Wow that sounds awful.¡± Anesh shuddered. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re referencing, but I hate it.¡± ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m about done eating. Gonna go let Rufus and Ganesh run around for a bit in the parking lot before we move on. Want me to bring back an orb or two to tip with?¡± James asked. ¡°They do need to eat those, you know. How many yellows are in the trunk?¡± ¡°Oh, like, a hundred or something.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re right, he looks *so* curious. And I think I have an addiction to being a cryptic mystery.¡± ¡°This right here is how you end up being internet famous.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°By the way, have you seen the video of us being action movie heroes? It¡¯s really awkward and I hate it.¡± ¡°I have not.¡± James said, standing up. ¡°Because then I would have to read Youtube comments, and I would rather drink anything out of the Akashic Sewer than do that.¡± _____ Eighty miles later, pulled over at a small rest area and viewing point that had a magnificent line of sight to the seemingly eternal mountain highway winding into the distance, James and Anesh watched their two companions scramble around in the gravel, exploring the local vegetation with aplomb. ¡°Rufus, I can¡¯t believe I have to say this, but please don¡¯t track mud into the car!¡± James called to them. Anesh didn¡¯t say anything, just leaned against the stone railing and smiled lightly. He was enjoying the fresh air and the breeze, and he knew Ganesh wasn¡¯t gonna dive into a marsh unless told not to. ¡°Ugh.¡± He uttered as James came over to join him, leaning in the opposite direction so he could keep an eye on the two dungeon lifeforms. Both for their safety, and in case another car decided to pull up next to them. ¡°Why am I so tired?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°You¡¯ve been the one driving, what the hell.¡± ¡°Road trips are an endurance test!¡± James informed him, still enthusiastic but certainly feeling more drained than when the day started. ¡°We should probably stop at the next place with a cheap hotel.¡± He suggested. ¡°Yeah.¡± Anesh agreed, turning to glance back at Rufus and Ganesh swatting at a fern. ¡°Okay, weird question for you.¡± ¡°Impossible. Weirdness is relative.¡± ¡°Has Rufus gotten bigger?¡± Anesh asked. James raised his eyebrows and looked again. Actually trying to remember what his little stapler buddy had looked like when they¡¯d first met. ¡°Uh¡­ yes. Yes? Yes.¡± He decided. ¡°Okay, I lied, that is weird. Damn! I wonder why striders in the Office aren¡¯t bigger, then?¡± He mused. After a moment of thinking about it, Anesh shrugged. ¡°Food chain, maybe? It¡¯s not really what I¡¯m an expert in, but I guess no one really is an expert in dungeon ecology.¡± ¡°We should get some people to do that.¡± James decided. ¡°You do get that we¡¯re already way over budget, and it¡¯s only JP extorting the FBI¡¯s contractor fund that is keeping us solvent, right?¡± James pursed his lips, a guilty look in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna lie, I don¡¯t know how money works on larger scales like this.¡± He admitted. ¡°We really need to just get an emerald to generate a hit video game for us and add that as an income stream.¡± ¡°First of all, the chips don¡¯t work that way.¡± Anesh corrected him. And then, seeing the startled look on James¡¯ face, cleared his throat. ¡°Oh, sorry, thought you knew that. Um¡­ yeah, it turns out, they can accept inputs while growing? And there¡¯s limits to what they can do without certain things filled in. Like, one of them couldn¡¯t make a game with graphics, unless you gave it 3D models to work with. I think? I¡¯ll be honest, I didn¡¯t fully understand what Mars was talking about when he told me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m envious of his name.¡± James remarked. ¡°Okay, but, these things would still be great for, like, business software? Specialized analytical tools? We¡¯ve got a *ton* of them now to work with. Hell, call yourself, see if NASA wants to buy custom grown programs for a space station.¡± ¡°I¡­ yes. Yeah, I think that could be arranged.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Actually, we should probably make a shell company and put them on the international market. Every major space agency is part of a government that spies on every other major space agency; if these things turn up here and nowhere else, it could draw attention to us in a way that we probably don¡¯t want.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°International sabotage attempts, mostly.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Apparently that¡¯s a real thing, that happens *regularly*. And it¡¯s everyone, doing it to everyone, too. Do you have any idea how far back we set our own progress?¡± He sounded like he was torn between wanting to growl, or sigh, and so the words came out in a strange middle ground of angry and sad. ¡°Maybe we just make a self-driving car.¡± James diverted the topic. ¡°We could clean up on that. Oh! A kit to *convert* any vehicle to a self-driving car!¡± ¡°Put it in the server. Someone¡¯ll have it done before we get back.¡± Anesh suggested. James pulled out his phone, looked at it for a few seconds, then put it away. ¡°Right. Mountains. No service out here.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Though it is a nice thought that I don¡¯t have to do any of the hard work anymore.¡± James mentioned. ¡°Right. Like, you do all the easy stuff. Scouting potentially lethal situations, engineering cargo mechs, being an AI ethicist, dueling gods, the simple things.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± James nodded. ¡°Things I can handle!¡± ¡°You are so bloody odd sometimes.¡± Anesh smiled as he leaned his shoulder into James, suppressing a yawn. ¡°We should get you some coffee.¡± James said with a smile, pressing back into Anesh. ¡°Do we have any of the stuff from the Lair?¡± ¡°The magical stuff or the Kona roast that I bought for myself and then you stole and turned into part of your mana blend?¡± James asked with a mock glower. Anesh ignored the jab. ¡°The magical stuff.¡± ¡°Nah. Not hot, anyway. Just some iced coffee, which, uh¡­¡± ¡°Wait, I never thought about that! What does the reflex coffee do when it¡¯s iced?¡± Anesh perked up like he¡¯d just downed some caffeine himself. ¡°Does it change how it works? Normally it needs to be over a certain tempature, right? Does making it iced coffee mean it has to be *below* a certain tempature? Have we been missing out on a whole suite of potential effects?¡± ¡°Well, *two* effects.¡± James tried to hold back a laugh. ¡°We only have two coffee machines. And yes, it does change it. It-¡° ¡°I knew it!¡± ¡°-yes very good. It does the reverse.¡± He finished. Anesh was silent for a second, narrowing his eyes at James like he was trying to figure out if this was a joke. ¡°As in, the reflex coffee would make you slower?¡± ¡°Yeah. And you¡¯re right that it does need to be cold enough. But, it works in blended drinks!¡± James grinned. ¡°Why.¡± ¡°Why what?¡± James asked, turning to watch as Ganesh, bored with trying to show Rufus how to climb a tree, traced an arc through the sky over the edge of their little cliff. ¡°Why would you bring iced coffee then?¡± Anesh looked annoyed, and then just regular confused. ¡°Is it¡­ a trap of some kind?¡± ¡°Nah. It¡¯s just that iced wisdom coffee is a really good sleep aid. Makes it possible for me to stop panicking about death for a while and close my eyes. Also it¡¯s cheaper than weed, which is illegal once we cross into Idaho anyway.¡± James replied, leaning down to let Rufus scurry up his arm, the tips of his pen legs stinging against skin that was starting to get cold in the mountain wind. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s¡­ good.¡± Anesh turned a small bob of agreement into a full nod. ¡°Yes. Good! Honestly, I find it a little weird how easily everyone at the Lair seems to be okay with drug use? So this is probably better?¡± ¡°I call it ¡®getting frapped¡¯.¡± James told him, shattering the illusion. ¡°Also, in general, you¡¯ll find we¡¯ve kind of half-accidentally cultivated a group of people who are really, *really* into expert opinion and verified data. Which has a side effect of people who are totally fine with certain things that society at large probably isn¡¯t, because a lot of our legal system is sort of puritanical and based on an abstract morality from Ye Olden Times, and not on any kind of evidence.¡± ¡°Okay, *yes*, but¡­¡± Anesh stopped himself. He¡¯d been about to say something about it not being normal. Not in exactly those words, but he realized rapidly that it was that core belief that was the root of his argument. Then, as he was still halfway through the thought, his dungeon exploration partner and autonomous drone Ganesh swept in on a gust of wind, slightly off course by the strengthening gust, and Anesh had to reach out and catch his small friend and pull him into a perch on his shoulder. And he realized, for the fiftieth time this week, that maybe his life wasn¡¯t normal, and maybe normal was an illusion itself. ¡°Yeah, alright. Makes sense. Now, I¡¯m tired. Let¡¯s go find a hotel with a really comfy bed.¡± He kept a hand shielding Ganesh from the wind, and turned away from the view of the valley below. ¡°Alright. What do you want for dinner?¡± James asked. ¡°Nothing. I had a burger the size of my head for lunch.¡± Anesh replied as the two of them walked back to the car, carrying the two smaller creatures with them. Behind them, *around* them, the sky painted itself the color of fire as the sun began to set. _____ There was a feeling at the end of the first day of a road trip. James had grown up with his family going on lots of long trips for vacations. For him, this feeling was something very specific. It was the moment when the sunset slipped away for the last time and it was, all of a sudden, night. It was the realization that you felt a little car sick, that the air conditioning was too annoying but also necessary, that you couldn¡¯t be in the car for another five minutes but your destination was ten minutes away. It was reaching a small town, seeing other cars for the first time in a while. Watching the too-bright lights zip by outside while Dire Straits played on the radio and your parents quietly argued in the front seat about how much they wanted to spend on the hotel for the night. It was knowing you were getting your favorite fast food for dinner, because it was a little too late, and everything else was closed. As an adult - or something that filled the role well enough - some of this experience had changed for James. Now he and his partner tried to find a motel that had more than three stars on google¡¯s review page, he lamented the lack of a restaurant that served real vegetables, and he spent less time being amazed by the streets of a new city and more time being annoyed that he¡¯d missed his turn. But he still captured the feeling of lights in the dark, and Brothers In Arms as background music. Also they had enough dinners in the back seat that he wasn¡¯t too worried about everything in this town being closed. He and Anesh had lapsed into a companionable silence for the last while. They¡¯d spent maybe an hour talking about their best and worse case fantasy dungeons, coming up with things that honestly James hoped they¡¯d never encounter - even the good ones still had a kind of existential terror to them, in that way that all dungeons did. That feeling that the world had far too many cracks in it to remain a whole object for too much longer. It was a lot easier to feel that way the more tired he got. So, they¡¯d set that conversation aside, and found a place to stay for the night. Smuggled Rufus and Ganesh inside in a duffel bag. Abused the hell out of the hotel¡¯s supply of hot water. Shared a small meal. And then, exhausted from the day, had snuggled into the fresh sheets of the bed together, and fallen asleep almost instantly. One day, and about four hundred miles down. Not the fastest pace they could have set. But then, they weren¡¯t here to rush. They were on vacation. A vacation that just happened to end at another dungeon and another possible crisis. No hurry. No pressure. Chapter 148 ¡°He died as he lived. Not dying of poison.¡± - Blue, Failed Assassinations - _____ Nate met up with Myles at the airport. Everything about the interaction was normal, mundane even. Same, too, for the drive in the rental car from the airport to the nicest possible hotel in the small city closest to their target. They had small pleasantries to exchange, but otherwise didn¡¯t talk much. They intentionally, especially, did not talk about anything weird. Nate checked them into the hotel, a business booking under an actual company registered out of Iowa. Four rooms, two sets of two adjoining suites. He paid, politely thanked the front desk, and sent Myles up to relax while he got everyone else. Then Nate took a walk, found a nearby park with a strange name that would be hard to mistake for anything else, ensured there was no one nearby, and sent a single bland text message. A minute and a half later, with three pops of air and ripples of space, twelve people snapped into existence around Nate, holding hands or other applicable limbs in three groups. ¡°-Actually *like* flying!¡± Deb was in the middle of a sentence, unbroken by their teleport across hundreds of miles. ¡°We could have had a nice flight!¡± ¡°You would have me in overhead storage.¡± Her partner, Frequency-Of-Sunlight, retorted. The camraconda making a cogent argument. ¡°I checked. Airlines do not allow large animals.¡± Her words got a snicker from Bill, the larger man towering nearby and trying not to loom too much. ¡°They¡¯d make an exception.¡± Deb crossed her arms and huffed, the pout on her face powerful enough that Nate figured she would have had at least a thirty percent chance of it actually working on a flight attendant trying to tell her that she couldn¡¯t take up a whole seat with a camraconda. ¡°I thought this was the professional team.¡± Mars grumbled. It wasn¡¯t that he was annoyed to be here or anything - far from it, he¡¯d only been part of this bizarre world for a couple months and he felt a kind of buzzing excitement to have the chance to encounter another dungeon. It was more that, accounting for time zones, there was basically no way to get out of a this trip without missing at least some sleep. And he hadn¡¯t had any coffee. ¡°This is the professional team.¡± Dave looked uncomfortable this far removed from his emotional support dragon. ¡°That¡¯s why we sent Momo to Australia.¡± ¡°Can we please focus?¡± Nate looked like he had a headache. The group of humans and camracondas instantly dropped their conversations, and focused on him, Knife-In-Fangs stopping a sentence on being stored in a carry-on halfway through his point As soon as he had their attention, he gave them the quick briefing. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ve got a hotel a short walk from here. Frequency, you *are* going in a duffel bag to get there, and we¡¯re going to keep the weird shit to a minimum. Got it? We can talk more once we¡¯re out of the open.¡± Some grumbling and swearing to get the four camracondas in the team into their carry bags, and one group walk later, they wasted no time getting everyone¡¯s luggage put away, and the group collected in one of the suites to discuss their next move. ¡°So, here¡¯s the problem.¡± Nate took the lead with a firm charisma that he didn¡¯t tend to show in the day to day of working at the Lair. ¡°We are aware of the location, and have a possible access path, but we don¡¯t know the specifics of this dungeon. Also, as a major complication, we *know* the Old Gun has been in the area.¡± He glanced at the camraconda unit of their team. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re here, specifically. So if we need to get out of her range, we can at least slow her down enough to write on the telepads.¡± He paused, then shifted back. ¡°Now, as far as good news, we *do* know where we¡¯re looking, and have confirmation there¡¯s at least some weird shit going on. Myles?¡± The young man, unaccustomed to public speaking, or really speaking to other people much at all, withered as everyone turned to him. ¡°Um¡­ yes?¡± ¡°Recap what you saw.¡± Nate prompted. ¡°Oh, right!¡± Myles cleared his throat, and went over the incident, up to the point that he had to leave the area to get medical attention for his phone exploding. ¡°Okay, so, that¡¯s absolutely a dungeon.¡± Dave leaned back against the side of the couch. ¡°But I¡¯m worried about the other interlopers.¡± ¡°Can we be called interlopers, too?¡± The other rogue in the room, a short Japanese American girl who, as near as Myles could tell, changed her name every time she met new people, and today was going by Maki, asked. Dave shook his head before anyone could respond. ¡°You¡¯re all aspirants until proven otherwise.¡± He told her. ¡°The ranking system is nerdy and dumb.¡± Deb, an official knight, cut in. ¡°And also not relevant to what Dave said, which is that yeah, there¡¯s at *least* five groups that¡¯re orbiting this place.¡± ¡°Five?¡± Her girlfriend inquired. ¡°Count please.¡± ¡°Well, us. The Old Gun. The woman who went in in the first place, who obviously isn¡¯t on the ¡®same team¡¯ as the Old Gun. And now, these other two.¡± She counted off on her fingers. ¡°And I¡¯m sure we could deal with the human ones, if it¡¯s one at a time, but even with all of us here, I don¡¯t think I trust our ability to take them all at once.¡± Her voice was tired, but not actually all that anxious about the prospect of open fighting. Nate made a mental note to himself to check in on if Deb had been seeing one of the Order¡¯s therapists; her brush with near death was the kind of thing that would rattle anyone, and while everyone reacted to trauma like that differently, he had a sad feeling how Deb was handing it. ¡°The biggest problem I can think of is that they have a three day head start on us.¡± Dave commented. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Anyone. The Old Gun especially, but also anyone watching Hall¡­ huh. I already forgot her name. Is anyone else having trouble with that?¡± Dave narrowed his eyes in concentration, but didn¡¯t sound overly concerned. Too much exposure to memetic effects had dulled him to the terror of the process. A lot of people in the room said yes, though. ¡°Great. So that¡¯s something to watch out for. Same general pattern as the Office, you think?¡± Deb thought for a second. ¡°Everyone text someone right now, just in case. Breadcrumb protocol.¡± Phones came out. ¡°Do we know if Halliston ever came out of the dungeon?¡± Mars asked, checking the woman¡¯s name from notes. ¡°Because if so, we could just ask her what it¡¯s like, and shortcut that problem.¡± ¡°Security risk.¡± Nate shook his head, trying not to crack a smile as the two rogues in the room echoed his words. ¡°We cannot, under any circumstances, risk the Old Gun knowing we¡¯re around like that.¡± ¡°What about¡­ notes, or maps?¡± He persisted. ¡°Even if she¡¯s working with someone else, she¡¯d still have a copy of her maps somewhere, right? I do.¡± The engineer commented. ¡°You do?¡± Dave raised an eyebrow. ¡°Like, of the Office? Is that allowed?¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not selling them to the highest bidder.¡± Mars looked embarrassed, glancing around for anyone who was on his side here. ¡°And how else am I supposed to¡­ have¡­ a map. That I don¡¯t really use for anything.¡± Nate rubbed his forehead. ¡°This was supposed to be the professional group.¡± He uttered. ¡°I think the fact that it *is* the professional group is worse.¡± Dave reminded him. ¡°Okay. So. Her house is probably also under surveillance.¡± Nate tried to salvage this meeting. ¡°We are *not* going to make contact with the trigger happy idiots that¡¯re watching her, but we could stand to know more about them. Myles, you and¡­ Mika¡­ are on scout duty there. You need any assistance with planning that out?¡± Nate legitimately asked. That was something nice about working with the Order; questions were almost *never* veiled insults. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± The two rogue aspirants said together, before sharing a glance. ¡°We¡¯re good.¡± Maki followed up, as Myles nodded. ¡°Creepy. Good for you.¡± Nate turned back to the rest of the group. ¡°Mars, if you can, I¡¯d like a more complete report on Dow Chemicals from an information perspective. Turnover rates, if you can find them, any comments from past employees. People post cryptic bullshit online all the time, and I bet if anyone knows about the dungeon, *someone* made a quip on Glassdoor that we¡¯ll recognize.¡± The young man pushed his hair off his glasses and nodded, already tapping on the laptop he had sitting on the end table. ¡°Dave, you¡¯re with me. We¡¯re going to go check out the building. You can do that voodoo that you and the old delvers do where you guess what it does and then get unnervingly close to the answer.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t do that.¡± Dave shook his head. ¡°James does that. Alanna did that too. Oh! We could get Momo in here! She can do that, but in the opposite direction.¡± ¡°You mean she will be wrong.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s digital voice was somehow dryer than normal. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Then no.¡± The camraconda, not having eyes to roll, adapted the gesture to making a loop with her whole head. ¡°I still want to see the building.¡± Nate cut off their banter. ¡°If for no other reason than to scout entrances. We will *not* be going into *any* dungeon until we have a good picture of the local landscape, physical and social, okay?¡± Everyone agreed, reluctantly or not. ¡°I¡¯m okay with that, actually.¡± Myles said to his new spy partner. ¡°I don¡¯t want to miss a chance to actually see a dungeon for the first time.¡± Everyone stopped, and turned to him. ¡°What?¡± Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight said together. ¡°How?¡± Dave asked, looking confused. Nate just nodded. *This* was about the level of professionalism he expected. Poor Myles just ducked his head, shrinking away from the room full of attention. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± He yelped. ¡°Isn¡¯t that normal?¡± ¡°Normal¡¯s fucked off a long time ago.¡± Nate told him. ¡°Alright. Everyone who doesn¡¯t have an assignment, get some rest or some food. We¡¯ll have more to do later. Matt, Bill, you two were quiet this whole time, you got any questions?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m deep enough into this to have questions yet.¡± Bill said. ¡°But I¡¯m here for whatever you need me for.¡± ¡°I¡¯m the hired muscle!¡± Matt reminded everyone. It wasn¡¯t¡­ strictly inaccurate. The guy had been recruited to the Response program, and loaned out to them by Harvey to get more experience with ¡°the weird stuff¡± at his own request. He was one of those fringe cases; people who didn¡¯t *clash* with the Order¡¯s ethos, but maybe didn¡¯t internalize it quite all the way yet. Harvey had several people like that, and the idea was to put them on rotation for adventures like this one. Get them some exposure to the people and ideas of the rest of the Order, as well as some mental preparation for in case something went horribly wrong that *wasn¡¯t* normal, and that they¡¯d need people with powers to combat. Only time would tell if the plan worked out. But for now, they at least had someone who knew more martial arts than an orb rank, and was willing to fight with them. ¡°Alright.¡± Nate nodded at the two of them, then at everyone else. ¡°Everyone remember; no public magic, no teleporting into anywhere you didn¡¯t recently teleport out of, let¡¯s not leave camera records or any suspicion that we were here, alright? Good. Now. Let¡¯s get to work.¡± _____ Momo and Jamie¡¯s flight landed in Sydney around noon, local time. Where this was on their personal clocks was largely irrelevant, at least for Momo. For the high school age intern to the Order who, by his own admission, hadn¡¯t been out of his home state in his life, the time was probably a little harder to get used to. Not that Momo actually got used to it, she just didn¡¯t sleep much. Alice Springs didn¡¯t have a major airport, but it did have a private airstrip nearby, mostly for hobbyists, and the Adelaide airport had irregular short hop flights out there. Irregular because you either had to plan in advance, or get lucky and hitch a ride. Momo had been in favor of rolling the dice, and going with the adventure, because of course she was. Karen had booked them a charter flight without asking. Since the alternative to a flight was a thousand mile long road trip that would likely rival James and Anesh¡¯s vacation, Momo didn¡¯t complain too much. At least, not while Karen was within earshot. The experience of landing in Australia was surreal. Back home, it was still just barely clawing out of a dark, wet winter. Here, the noon sun beat down through the wide glass windows of the airport, warming the air in an endless battle with the air conditioning. Bright yellow-white, the kind of sun that you always thought was neutral until you found yourself with the grey-blue of winter and realized you missed it. ¡°The air smells different!¡± The kid next to Momo, struggling to shift his backpack into a comfortable position, exclaimed with a goofy grin. She considered saying something snarky, but honestly, she¡¯d been thinking the same thing. There was a dry, almost electric tang on the taste of the air, even here inside a building. It was *different*. To so suddenly be dunked into an environment that wasn¡¯t home. So Momo contained her snark, admitting that maybe she was just jealous that the kid four or five years younger than she was had so much height over her head. And after they struggled to navigate through socially distancing crowds to meet their pilot north, and eventually emerged onto the tarmac, the smell took on the aspect of a hundred foreign plants, just as the temperature soared. ¡°So! Whatcha in town for?¡± Their pilot called back to them as they stashed their limited luggage under the seats of the little four-seater prop plane. She was an older lady, with a bun of grey hair and hands that looked like they¡¯d spent fifty years perfecting the controls of the craft. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Jamie, not wanting to cross any lines about secrecy, went with a simple answer that he¡¯d been provided by JP with, in case anyone asked. ¡°Visiting family!¡± He called back up front. At the same time that Momo was saying ¡°Wizard bullshit!¡± Their pilot glanced back at them. Took in Momo¡¯s explosive grin, visible around the edges of her mask, and the kid trying to subtly remind the other passenger that she wasn¡¯t supposed to just *say that*. Nodded one, looked back at her console, and radioed the control tower to request permission to take off. A few hours later, after a friendly conversation at altitude where the pilot pointed failed to ask any follow up questions about wizardry, the two of them hopped out of the back of the plane, tipped their pilot, and realized this wasn¡¯t the kind of airport that had rental cars available. Half an hour wait for the nearest ride share to get to them, during which time Jaimie kept asking her questions about the totems she made, taking advantage of their time away from people to exercise his persistent curiosity. Then another half hour drive to their hotel, during which time Momo regretted her choice to not wear shorts when the day started. They¡¯d booked the entire top floor of one of the local hotels. Weirdly, this small town in the middle of nowhere actually had multiple hotels; near enough to a couple of very popular public parks that they did decent tourism business. The pandemic must have hit them hard, as the front desk had seemed almost *excited* to have a group of their size come through. Momo, despite her commitment to never sleeping again, had walked into their main suite, and promptly collapsed on a couch. Jaime, her loyal assistant, had texted everyone else with the verified address and room numbers A minute later, a crowd of people blinked into existence around them with a series of pressure pops. ¡°Oh hey, the air smells different!¡± Sarah exclaimed with a girlish smile. ¡°Hey guys. How was the flight?¡± ¡°We could have just teleported!¡± Momo screamed into the couch cushion. ¡°It was nice.¡± Jaimie told her, noncommittally. ¡°The pilot that brought us here was cool.¡± ¡°I would have flown!¡± Ethan puffed up his chest as he dragged a heavy bag out of the middle of the room. Everyone ignored him. Alex, feeling like the only adult in the room briefly, directed Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn over to the side of the room so they could sort the luggage out. Behind the couch, Chevoy clutched her backpack to her chest, the engineer seeming unsure if she was thrilled by her first teleport, or terrified. And in the kitchen, Texture-Of-Barkdust partook of the human custom that James had told him about, and started taking snacks out of the minibar. ¡°Momo!¡± Sarah shook her friend awake. ¡°Sorry to bother you, you look really tired, but just a quick update. JP was gonna come with us, but he got hurt doing whatever he was doing with our friendly neighborhood fed, so our little group is rounded out by this guy. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to a Hispanic man with a swimmer¡¯s build and a lopsided grin paired with a sleeveless shirt that showed off thick arms. ¡°This is Diego. He¡¯s like JP.¡± ¡°Personally, or professionally.¡± Momo muttered, slumping her face back into the rough pillow of the couch. ¡°Both.¡± Sarah answered with a dry humor. ¡°Yay.¡± Momo muttered. ¡°Um, excuse me.¡± Morgan slid up, shoulders slumped and eyes cast down, like he was still worried to even ask questions. ¡°Should we check in with the front desk or something?¡± He asked Sarah. ¡°Nah.¡± Sarah waved it off. ¡°I¡¯m sure they won¡¯t notice. And if they do, I bet people teleport in all the time. We paid for our rooms, it¡¯ll be fine.¡± Elizabeth propped herself up on the back of the couch and looked down at Momo. ¡°Do you ever get mad that no one notices all your magic?¡± She asked. ¡°That people are teleporting everywhere is *probably* not true¡­¡± Diego drummed his fingers on his bicep, arms crossed as he considered the statement. His voice was a little airier than Momo had expected from someone with that much muscle. ¡°Do people teleport everywhere?¡± He asked, more amused than concerned ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you, if you could?¡± Momo challenged. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s why I did. The teleporting is *very choice*.¡± He nodded. ¡°Maybe next time you¡¯d like to teleport with me?¡± He waggled thick eyebrows at Momo, who wasn¡¯t really looking. Elizebeth noticed, though, and tensed slightly on the back of the couch. ¡°Oh, he is like JP.¡± Momo grumbled. She pushed herself up, and once sitting, called out to the room that had started to hum with a handful of separate conversations. ¡°Alright, minions! Listen up!¡± They did, quieting down as she rubbed at her the corner of an eye. ¡°First off, welcome to Australia! I hope you all have your permission slips for this field trip.¡± ¡°I do!¡± Jaimie answered literally, pulling out a wallet to dig out a literal piece of paper his parents had signed. The adult population stared at him for a second, before Momo shook her head and continued. ¡°Yes, thank you. Anyone else? Liz? Actually wait, hang on! Liz, does Karen know you¡¯re here?¡± She demanded. ¡°Probably?¡± The girl blushed as the attention landed on her. ¡°I told her I was gonna hang out with you for a bit?¡± ¡°Oh my god.¡± Momo buried her face in her hands. ¡°She¡¯s going to kill me.¡± ¡°No no, it¡¯s fine! I¡¯ll¡­ text her!¡± Liz promised, pulling out a phone. Momo nodded, and got back on track while that social disaster unfolded. ¡°Alright. Welcome to Australia, again. So. Here¡¯s the deal. Somewhere, within or nearby this small town, is a dungeon. If, *if*, we are *very lucky*, then it¡¯s going to be in one of the twenty art galleries in the downtown area. So! We¡¯re gonna take today to relax, get settled in, get some food, and then tomorrow, we¡¯re going to start poking around and seeing if we can get any signs around here.¡± ¡°And when we find nothing?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked, mouthful of peanuts not impeding their speech at all. ¡°I figure we give it a week?¡± Momo shrugged. ¡°Half of us have that weirdness sense. And I figure that wandering around town with camracondas asking wizard questions will at least be a starting point for flushing out anyone who has a starting point.¡± She looked over at the two new people who had shocked looks on their face. ¡°Jamie, Diego, you guys¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Diego jumped in, ¡°you¡¯re just going to¡­ no stealth at all?¡± He looked at the camracondas. ¡°You don¡¯t think that¡¯ll be a problem?¡± ¡°I mean, the town¡¯s gotten a lot less violent in the last five years, according to the stats.¡± Sarah offered. ¡°They should be safe? People might think they¡¯re art?¡± ¡°These are not reassuring excuses.¡± Color-Of-Dawn chimed in. ¡°I¡¯m still not really sure why I¡¯m here at all.¡± Morgan reminded everyone. ¡°It¡¯s cool, though, but¡­ um¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be an adventure. And we needed to bring someone so we could tell Daniel there was a full roster.¡± Alex told him. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you want to bring Daniel?!¡± Morgan looked puzzled, in an almost angry way. ¡°He¡¯s gonna be way better at this than me!¡± ¡°Because,¡± Momo told him, ¡°when Daniel and Pathfinder map a way to something, there¡¯s *always* misadventures. *Always*. It¡¯s statistically unlikely, and it feels like they¡¯re bending causality. And no one wants fuckin¡¯ misadventures in the outback where half the wildlife is venomous.¡± ¡°...Yeah, okay.¡± Morgan shook his head and blinked. ¡°Yeah! That makes perfect sense. Sorry! I¡¯ll do my best!¡± ¡°Good attitude.¡± Sarah gave him a thumbs up. ¡°So, do we know what kind of dungeon we¡¯re looking for?¡± Alex asked. ¡°Like, is it carnivorous?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What.¡± ¡°*What*!?¡± ¡°Well, we¡¯ve seen three or four so far, right? And only one of them actively tries to kill people. So, you know. ¡®Carnivore¡¯ for the murder dungeons, ¡®herbivore¡¯ for the emotional subsistence ones like the attic?¡± Alex explained. ¡°I know it needs work¡­¡± ¡°It does, but it¡¯s a good starting point. Anyway, the missing persons rate here is surprisingly low, given that a major hobby is camping in the local wilderness preserve.¡± Momo explained. ¡°So it¡¯s probably either very hidden, or very nonhostile. That said, our early detection source *did* flag it as potentially lethal, so¡­ conflicting information!¡± ¡°Yay.¡± Sarah did a mock cheer. ¡°It¡¯s worth remembering,¡± Alex pointed out, ¡°that we¡¯re supposed to *find* the thing, not specifically *go inside it*. We don¡¯t need to walk into the murder dungeon, and we probably shouldn¡¯t since we aren¡¯t, like, the most survive-y people in the Order?¡± ¡°We¡¯re scouts, yes. Anyway!¡± Momo said. ¡°I¡¯m tired from a massive flight, and next time we just teleport directly to the hotel! I¡¯m gonna nap, everyone split up the rooms and get settled, we¡¯ll go get a group dinner later and kick this adventure off right.¡± ¡°Thank you. Am not hungry.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust mentioned, consuming the last of the small bags of nuts from the minibar. ¡°Um¡­¡± Elizabeth brought a hand up to her mouth, trying to think of what to say. ¡°Your mom¡¯s the accountant, right?¡± Diego asked her in a conspiratorial voice. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Good news!¡± He said with a small wiggle of his eyebrows. ¡°She¡¯s not going to be as mad at you!¡± ¡°This is a good start.¡± Momo decided, sliding back down on the couch until she was horizontal again. ¡°Got a good feeling about this one.¡± ____ ¡°So, we¡¯ve got the building mostly to ourselves for, like, two weeks?¡± Nikhail asked Reed leaning back with crossed arms and raised eyebrows. The two of them were in the basement. Reed had lost track of which one. It was the basement that had previously contained a shooting range, which had since been dismantled, and was now being retrofitted into living space. They needed more and more living space, it turned out. Even if it was just temporary rooms for on-call Response agents and the camraconda population. A few camracondas had chosen to move out of the Lair, to live with humans they¡¯d formed a close bond with; none of them had chosen to live on their own so far. And many members of Response, especially the newer recruits, didn¡¯t live it as a lifestyle, but instead showed up for shifts and left when they were done. But it all added up. So the extra space was welcome, and would make for a fine batch of quarters when it was fully remodeled. Which, sadly for everyone who cared, meant they were going to have to stop firing guns down here. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly ¡®to ourselves¡¯.¡± Reed corrected his assistant and fellow mad scientist. ¡°JP¡¯s here somewhere, there¡¯s still about thirty camracondas in the building, and the Response teams, and the rest of Research, and¡­¡± ¡°Alright, alright!¡± Nik waved him off, watching as Reed stacked duplicated shield bracers into a cardboard box and then handed it to him. ¡°But we could get away with *more* than normal, right?¡± ¡°The last time we ¡®got away with¡¯ anything, I lost an organ.¡± Reed griped. He was still in quite a bit of pain from that, though he did his best not to show it. It was hard, though, when he had to bend down to start clearing the lower part of the table they were in the process of moving. Research was, essentially, the warehouse of the Order. Though it might be more appropriate to say they were the attic closet; constantly filling up with random clutter and trying to figure out if it was earth shattering or silly. So they made use of a lot of tables. There was a joke that basically any flat surface, left unattended in the Lair for long enough, would act as a magnet for stuff Research didn¡¯t want to throw out or convert to orbs, but really didn¡¯t know where to put, exactly. ¡°Oh hey!¡± Reed said, trying to cover up the wince of pain in his voice. ¡°The crown thing! I¡¯ve been looking for this.¡± He rolled over from where he was knelt down to the bottom shelf of the workbench, holding up a wire and wood circlet. ¡°How long has this been down here?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know? What¡¯s it do?¡± Reed settled it on his head, and mentally scanned the information that it provided his mind. [Inner Spirit Reignition - 14 - 19,984 / 20,000 -1:2:44:10 (26)] ¡°Yup!¡± He exclaimed, plucking it off and looking at it more closely. ¡°This is the one that has the effect that increases uses of blue orbs!¡± Nik plucked it out of his hand and added it to the box of Status Quo equipment. ¡°Well, *that* sounds like something we can duplicate and abuse forever, huh?¡± He nodded to himself. ¡°Any other SQ stuff down there for this box?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ maybe. Also I think that one still ranks lower than the cancer cure, unless we finds blue that does something similar.¡± Reed replied, not moving from his spot on the floor. ¡°Probably. Also what do you mean ¡®maybe¡¯? The bench isn¡¯t that large.¡± ¡°I mean, there¡¯s the weird hexagon thing down here.¡± Reed said. ¡°Does that count?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t level up, it doesn¡¯t go in the box. Come on, let¡¯s get this and the pile of red orbs over to the Research side, and then come back for the rest.¡± Nik tapped his foot impatiently, shifting his grip on the badly weighted cardboard. Reed awkwardly cleared his throat, looking at the concrete floor he was propping himself up on. ¡°Um.. can I get a hand up?¡± He asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize¡­ how much this would hurt, when I got down here.¡± Nikhail swore, setting the box to the floor with a clattering thump as he knelt down next to Reed to offer an arm and shoulder for the supposedly intelligent head of Research to use to stand. ¡°You were supposed to *take breaks if you needed them!* Reed, you need to take better care of yourself!¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°You¡¯re missing roughly five pounds of human parts that humans are supposed to have!¡± ¡°Yeah, but most of it doesn¡¯t hurt that much.¡± ¡°...And the parts that *do* hurt?!¡± ¡°Hurt a lot.¡± Reed¡¯s voice came out with a kind of hollow exhaustion. ¡°Anyway. Grab the nightmare hexagon and let¡¯s go.¡± Nik didn¡¯t look like he wanted to stop supporting Reed, but the other guy pushed away and seemed to be standing okay on his own. Although Nik made sure to shift the heavier box out of his reach while he grabbed the last Status Quo artifact. ¡°Um¡­ hey, what did this thing do again?¡± He asked Reed as he looked at the orangish hexagonal polyhedron and very blatantly didn¡¯t touch it. ¡°I remember it had a bunch of ID badges in it, probably from agents, right? But¡­ what else? Did we ever test that?¡± ¡°Uh, it didn¡¯t do anything, even to people who did test it with their own IDs. Why?¡± Reed asked, shifting the lighter burden he¡¯d grabbed himself into a better position that didn¡¯t stress his bad arm. ¡°Because part of it¡¯s sorta glowing and I¡¯m suspicious.¡± Nik said. Reed dropped his box back to the table, and leaned down to check, arm supporting himself against the upper surface. Indeed, the object was glowing. Reed nodded. Okay, good. Verification out of the way. Now. *Why* was it glowing, and was that bad for everyone? It was one of the things they¡¯d recovered from Status Quo¡¯s HQ. Possibly the most important thing, not that they¡¯d know. For all that James and Anesh complained constantly about the lack of health potions or bags of holding, the Research division knew that the true tragedy was that no one had found an identify scroll. About a foot and a half in diameter, with a series of perfectly hexagonal sides. The object was made of some kind of pale orange resin or something; they hadn¡¯t wanted to damage it to test the substance, and really, it didn¡¯t matter much when dealing with magical artifacts, near as anyone knew. When they¡¯d found it, the indented facets on each face had been filled with ID badges of people who, even through the infoweapon that had been set off, they could match to a lot of Status Quo agents. What the object did, no one knew. They¡¯d assumed it was responsible for the agent¡¯s unnatural durability, but if it was, they¡¯d never been able to trigger it. And so, it had been shuffled from shelf to shelf with the other Status Quo artifacts for months now. Mostly ignored. And now it was glowing. Well, a few of the hex surfaces were glowing. A kind of luminescent green, pale and almost unnoticeable unless you looked at it. ¡°Huh.¡± Reed said. ¡°Okay, don¡¯t touch that.¡± ¡°Should we¡­ try the ID thing again?¡± Nikhail asked with a kind of anxious concern. ¡°That seems¡­ bad?¡± Reed replied. He pulled himself back up with a sigh and a stab of pain in his side. ¡°It looks like it¡¯s moving.¡± ¡°Yeah, it kind of looks like little larva or something.¡± Nik said, still on his knees and trying to get as close to the thing as possible for a better look. ¡°Like...oh.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Nik settled back on his heels. ¡°Is this a hive?¡± He asked. ¡°Like, maybe the reason we couldn¡¯t figure out what it ¡®does¡¯ is that it isn¡¯t dungeontech. It¡¯s something more alive than that.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s awful. Two questions.¡± Reed ticked off on his fingers. ¡°What sort of nightmare bugs is it growing, and what do we do with it?¡± Then he added a third. ¡°And also, why was it full of IDs? Did they¡­ grow¡­ the things...into agents?¡± He and Nik shared a grimace, and at the same time, both said ¡°Creepy.¡± Before Nik shook off the disgust and tried to come up with answers. ¡°I mean, we could just break it. But also, what if it grows something friendly?¡± ¡°If they were holding onto it, we know it was at least friendly to *them*.¡± Reed countered. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯ll like *us*.¡± ¡°True. Still doesn¡¯t answer why they had their IDs in there.¡± He looked down at the object, the suspected hive, again. ¡°I¡¯m gonna try it.¡± Nik said, pulling out a wallet from his back pocket. ¡°I feel like I should be armed for this and maybe you should *wait* and¡­¡± Reed sighed. ¡°Alright, you did it. Okay. Cool. Are you dead?¡± Nikhail looked up from where he¡¯d dropped his driver¡¯s license into one of the glowing hexes. ¡°Nope! Nothing happened. Except that it seems like it likes my ID.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°And I can¡¯t pull it back out. And¡­ I needed that, probably.¡± ¡°Well, good news. You get to be under observation from now until we figure out what that was.¡± Reed shook his head. ¡°Why is everyone so goddamn reckless?!¡± He threw up his good arm in exasperation. ¡°Did we all learn nothing from that time we blew a hole in the parking lot?¡± ¡°I think the others learned more than me. Davis learned a lot! He actually spoke up in a meeting!¡± Nik cheerfully replied. ¡°Anyway. This *seems* safe to carry, so let¡¯s get this stuff moved, and then I¡¯ll go sit patiently while everyone asks me questions I cannot answer yet.¡± ¡°James doesn¡¯t have to deal with this.¡± Reed grumbled. ¡°James gets a vacation. Do *I* get a vacation? No. I get stupidly reckless minions.¡± He complained all the way until the elevator doors opened on another basement, and they finally cleared away the last of the clutter. By that point, he¡¯d come to terms with the fact that he was more worried than angry, but the complaining had a momentum of its own by then, and it seemed like it fit his growing image of the grumpy old scientist a bit better in front of the rest of the division. Nevermind that he was younger than a third of them. Or that he wasn¡¯t really much of a scientist at all, and more of a manager that kept people directed at projects that mattered and wrote the reports they were too excited to get to. What was important was that most days, they discovered something, and no one got hurt. ¡°Nik did something stupid.¡± Reed announced to the room as they walked in and dropped their boxes over by a half assembled IKEA shelf. ¡°Someone keep an eye on him, and if he starts trying to gnaw anyone¡¯s arm off, remember that you stop zombies by taking out the brain.¡± If he was lucky, today would be like most days. Reed sighed, and started looking around for the cobbled together series of vision enhancements that he and Momo had made a month ago, and that served as the closest thing they had to a decent identification system. Hopefully, Nik would be okay with the massive invasion of privacy. _____ James, in fact, did not have to deal with that. Reed was absolutely correct. He and Anesh had woken up too late for the hotel¡¯s probably not very good breakfast service. So they¡¯d gone to an IHOP, in the time honored tradition of late morning road trips since the dawn of pancakes. The waitress had given some weird looks to Ganesh and Rufus as the dungeon life sat on the table either drinking a small dish of coffee, or trying to help Anesh solve a crossword, respectively. But they¡¯d tipped well, and there¡¯d been no problems. Then they¡¯d drive for six hundred miles, and spent at least three hours of that trip debating about fanfiction. They spent a bit of time, when they had actual serious energy and mental states that were a little more awake, talking about making infomorphs. ¡°I think we¡¯ve been missing something a bit.¡± James had told Anesh. ¡°I almost feel like I understand it, but I don¡¯t really know why I feel like something is just a bit off.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your theory so far?¡± ¡°Okay, remember when Research tried to make an infomorph?¡± ¡°Curious, yes. It was a disaster. We almost caused real problems.¡± ¡°Right. So, what¡¯s different, between Curious, and, say...Pathfinder? Or Planner? Or that one that died off after a while that kept me from using weaponry?¡± ¡°I mean, all the other ones you listed didn¡¯t start with names, for one thing.¡± Anesh shrugged from the driver¡¯s seat that he was currently occupying. ¡°What¡¯re you getting at?¡± James, slumped forward in his seat so his head was right against the air vents, made an affirmative grunt. ¡°Mostly that.¡± He said. ¡°They started out¡­ small? Narrow, maybe. Not *simple*, because they weren¡¯t simple concepts. They were actually incredibly complex and relied on layered levels of context. Path was just ¡®a map¡¯. Planner was a compulsion to frame the Office as a job and be on time on certain days. But Curious? Curious was just¡­ that. A word, a broad idea, and every piece of baggage that came with it, all at once.¡± ¡°So, you think the way to make an infomorph-¡° ¡°Safely, anyway.¡± ¡°-Safely make an infomorph, is to create something that¡¯s so narrow it¡¯s kind of meaningless, and then just let it grow into what it¡¯s gonna be?¡± Anesh asked. James shrugged, rolling his head around back to the seat cushion so he could look into the backseat via the rear view mirror. ¡°I mean¡­ yeah? Yeah. Same thing as with the physical life, right? We don¡¯t make tools. We make family. And...maybe, like, that¡¯s why Pendragon is the way she is. Why she was willing to fly into the depths of Officium Mundi to pull Dave out. Because no one told her she had to.¡± ¡°This *might* be you projecting.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°I know for a fact you only have long hair because every time someone tells you that you should cut it, you refuse out of spite and the timer resets.¡± ¡°Bah!¡± James exclaimed, but did not argue with what he knew was the truth. ¡°But I do think I¡¯m right.¡± He said, quieter. ¡°Well,¡± Anesh offered, ¡°we¡¯ve got a couple purples in the back. We could try, when we stop for the night.¡± ¡°Maybe!¡± James said. ¡°For now¡­ I¡¯m gonna nap. I didn¡¯t sleep well, and there¡¯s nothing to see here but cows.¡± ¡°God, yeah, so many cows.¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°Enjoy your nap.¡± He said, and turned the music up a couple notches. Just a normal day for the two of them. Halfway to where they¡¯re heading. Chapter 149 ¡°Women and men; soldiers and outlaws; fools and corpses. All will find their way to us now that the road is clear.¡± -The Narrator, Darkest Dungeon- _____ Two days later, James and Anesh arrived at their destination. There was a certain *tension* at the end of a road trip. Any long journey, really. This feeling that you were almost, almost, *almost* there. Where, no matter how many miles were left on the map, your body decided that it was time to get out of the car *now*. That the trip was *over*, and that was just it! No more! No more car, no more road, no more to any of it! For James, this feeling hit when they were off the long haul of the highway, off the smaller local thoroughfare, and he was in the process of trying to remember that you couldn¡¯t go ninety miles an hour when you were trying to find a specific residential neighborhood. For *Anesh*, this feeling had started a half hour ago, and he was resorting to bribery to try to desperately get James to stop the car. ¡°Look. A gas station. We need gas, right?¡± They did not. When that didn¡¯t work, he shifted gears. ¡°Hey, how about lunch? There¡¯s a steakhouse over there that probably isn¡¯t great but I bet they¡¯ve got¡­ bathrooms? Or a park, where we can eat our own food? Please? Look at that park James, it has trees!¡± He wasn¡¯t wrong, it *did* have trees. James was left feeling a little weird in this small town that El had come home to, specifically because of the parks. Not just that they looked somewhat more unkempt than he was used to, but also just because ¡®park¡¯ seemed to be the same thing as ¡®empty lot that no one ever built on, so it¡¯s a park now I guess¡¯. He felt almost spoiled, coming from where he did. ¡°I know ya¡¯ll wanna get out.¡± James calmly replied even as Rufus tried to steer him from his head, keeping his eyes forward despite the strider¡¯s efforts. ¡°But we are literally almost there. Like, one-more-left-turn almost there.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t stop fidgeting, but he did wait patiently for the pickup truck in the oncoming lane to go by, and for James to take the turn down the street to the address they¡¯d been given a week ago. When James pulled up to the curb in front of a pale blue two story house, with a worrying number of lawn flamingos in the middle of a blossoming garden, and a half-intact car in the driveway, Anesh practically dove from the vehicle as soon as he parked. James was more reserved in getting out, stepping out and leaning on the roof of his car with a grin. He¡¯d chosen a garish floral print shirt for today, and the bright colors of it were practically radioactive in the beating sun. ¡°Hey!¡± He called out to the driveway, and winced as there was a thunk and swearing from under the car. The swearing was followed by a metallic clatter as tools and parts were pushed aside, and El slid herself out from under her current project, glaring at first and rubbing her elbow, but her angry look didn¡¯t hold up long once she spotted James leaning on his car. Her face went through a lot of feelings in a short timeframe. And James realized that himself of a year ago would never have noticed half of it. Relief, that they¡¯d showed up. Bitterness, reflected inward, that she needed to ask for help. Amusement, probably at his shirt. And then, covering it all up as fast as she could manage, annoyance. ¡°*This* is the car you bring? You could have gotten this at a dealership *here*.¡± El commented as she kicked herself to her feet, wiping her hands on a shop towel. James never figured out what that was supposed to do, exactly; her hands were still covered in oil stains, along with the rest of her. Smudges on her nose from where she¡¯d obviously tried to scratch an itch, and a dozen marks across the overalls she was wearing. Some of which were obviously idle doodles from the artist, and not accidents. ¡°I¡¯m offended you didn¡¯t think I was at least worth some late nineties convertible.¡± ¡°First off, don¡¯t question my car child. Second, I wanted to take a vacation. Third¡­ no, no third. Just those. Road trip! Across some mountains.¡° James replied, still grinning as he tapped the roof of the car. ¡°Wait, I thought of the third one! My dad *had* a late nineties convertible! It was the worse thing in the world to ride in. I don¡¯t think they¡¯d designed ¡®seats¡¯ back then.¡± El rolled her eyes. ¡°I am literally offering you the best road trip of your life. What could ¡®some mountains¡¯ offer in comparison.¡± James and Anesh, who had more or less gotten past his euphoria of escaping the passenger seat, both looked over to the horizon in the distance, minds going back to the sight of a blazing orange and gold sunset over the peaks of the Rockies. Light weaving in beams through the canopies of shaded green as they drove in and out of tunnels of trees, catching glimpses of the sky on fire until they exploded out into an open ledge, and the entire *world* lay before them, waiting to be explored, in all its enthralling splendor. ¡°The mountains were pretty cool.¡± Anesh offered. ¡°Well I¡¯m glad you had fun while I lurked around trying to solve a cryptic mystery.¡± El scowled at them, and it was unclear if she meant it or not. ¡°All mysteries are cryptic.¡± James informed her, letting Rufus down to the lawn and muttering ¡°Don¡¯¡¯t play in the road¡± to the strider. ¡°Yeah, well, this one is worse.¡± James nodded sympathetically. ¡°Yeah, you said you thought something weird was going on. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°No idea.¡± El sighed. ¡°Well, what made you suspect something was wrong?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Missing people, weird happenings, anything like that?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± El shook her head. ¡°I mean, there might be people missing? It¡¯s hard to tell. The town is kinda small, but I really don¡¯t know most people, especially since I¡¯ve been gone a while. And nothing weird is going on, except the one kid that no-scoped me as a wizard.¡± James put a hand up to his mouth as he thought over her words, idly biting at his index finger. ¡°So, nothing weird, no signs of activity, just a hunch, eh? Have you been back into the local dungeon since you got back?¡± ¡°Hell no.¡± El said. ¡°My car is in pieces.¡± She gestured to the ongoing engineering challenge in her driveway. ¡°Also, did you know the price of ammo has gone way up lately? I can¡¯t-¡° ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh said, with a thousand yard stare. ¡°And we can¡¯t even duplicate it anymore.¡± ¡°...Kay.¡± El blinked, then shook her head. ¡°Anyway. I haven¡¯t gone in to check it out. I had to get my lifeline here back, and then I guess I was waiting for you. Turns out, it does feel a lot safer when you¡¯ve got someone watching your back.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡± James nodded. ¡°Well hey, no worries. We¡¯ll be here for a week or so at least. We can keep our eyes open. And if it is the dungeon¡­ we¡¯ll find answers in there, hopefully.¡± ¡°I guess. It just feels weird.¡± El said glumly. ¡°What does?¡± ¡°Being here. Being home, I guess? Like I¡­ ah, you don¡¯t need to know.¡± She shrugged, seeming to shrink down into her mechanic¡¯s garb as she lowered her head. James knew, though. ¡°Like it hasn¡¯t changed at all.¡± He said quietly. ¡°But you have. You¡¯ve changed so much. Learned so much, gotten so much better. And everyone expects you to be the same, and you can¡¯t explain to them that you¡¯re outgrowing who you are, and who they want you to be. That it¡¯s not you; it¡¯s them, and it¡¯s them because they¡¯re exactly like you left them.¡± ¡°This¡­ happened to you too?¡± El said in a shaky voice, while Anesh looked at James with sad eyes and a concerned frown. ¡°With the Office?¡± ¡°Nah. With the dungeons, I¡¯ve dragged everyone that mattered to me along for the ride.¡± James said. Then, he gave a nervous laugh. ¡°This happened to me with college.¡± ¡°Fuck, yeah!¡± El slapped the leg of her overalls, ¡°That¡¯s why it feels familiar! It¡¯s just so much worse!¡± ¡°Well, you did help us do a small war.¡± James wiped sweat off his forehead, the afternoon sun continuing to cook him while they talked. Then, very much wanting to change topics, he shifted the focus of the conversation. ¡°Also, you have clearly been at this for a while. What is¡­ this?¡± He asked, waving to El¡¯s project car; a bright red - if slightly dinged up - body, hood popped, a half dozen manuals scattered around it showing El¡¯s ongoing progress in learning as she went. She turned back to her car with clear satisfaction in her eyes, also glad for the subject change. ¡°*This* is an *actual* car child.¡± El informed him. ¡°¡®92 Mazda Miata, slightly modified in a boring and frustratingly difficult way to have working air conditioning, heavily modified in an arcane way to have slightly more horsepower, torque, acceleration, and fuel capacity than it should.¡± Anesh perked up. ¡°Exhausted as I am from driving since 4 AM to get here, I really wanna know about those things.¡± He half-asked. ¡°The engine is, somehow, a sixteen cylinder monster.¡± El told them, circling around to the hood and motioning the two boys over. James strolled onto the unfamiliar driveway, hands awkwardly in his pockets, as he looked down at the machinery he did not understand in any way. ¡°I don¡¯t know it¡¯s actual displacement, because I don¡¯t know how to calculate that. But between the engine itself, a set of ball bearings that double the amount of torque the car¡¯s internals can safely handle, and this part of the drive shaft that I am¡­¡± El cleared her throat, ¡°...*attempting* to figure out how to install, I bet you anything I can outpace your dumb mom-car.¡± ¡°El.¡± James rubbed his hands together. ¡°I understood almost none of that. I have skills points in fixing Jettas, and nothing else relevant.¡± ¡°Jetta.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡± ¡°That¡¯s *not* how you pronounced it, don¡¯t lie to me.¡± El reached into the open hood and tightened - loosened? - some presumably important component. ¡°Look, I was an art school dropout before I was a mechanic. If I can pretend to learn this, you can too. It took me *two weeks* to figure out I didn¡¯t even have the right sized wrenches.¡± James glanced at the candy red chassis of the car in front of them. ¡°I cannot help but notice that you picked yourself a late nineties convertible?¡± ¡°Early nineties.¡± Anesh corrected him. ¡°She said ¡®92. Also, can I just back you up a bit? How do the ball bearings impact the entire car?¡± ¡°Magic?¡± El shrugged. ¡°Same with the drive shaft rod and boosting acceleration, I guess. I install it, and its effect spreads over the whole unit or something. It¡¯s kinda cool, cause half the time the parts don¡¯t have anything to do with what their actual function is.¡± Now it was Anesh¡¯s turn to have a headache. ¡°Okay, fine.¡± He conceded, not wanting to get into a debate on how the dungeons did what they did right now. ¡°How do you know what they do? Do you have a spell for that, too?¡± ¡°Nah. When I find the altars that have parts on them, what they do is carved into the stone around them.¡± El walked back around the side of her car and settled herself down next to one of the manuals, holding the metal rod in her hand in different directions to try to puzzle out which orientation she needed. ¡°Also, I really want to finish this before it gets dark, or my brain forgets what I was working on.¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem.¡± James cut off his boyfriend who was, presumably, about to object to mystic words carved in stone altars. ¡°We need to-¡° His words were interrupted by a loud bark, the kind of deep friendly greeting you got from a dog that was the size of a small car itself. He glanced over, and noticed an older woman walking something with about as much grey fur as a woolly mammoth. ¡°-pet that dog.¡± He finished. ¡°Ah. Hi mom.¡± El looked awkward. ¡°Hello honey! Are these two bothering you? I can sic Ingrid here on them!¡± El¡¯s mother said with perfect cheer. James gave a laugh while El gave an awkward explanation. ¡°No, mom! This is James and Anesh. They¡¯re just in town visiting. Gonna hang out tomorrow or something, after I get my car working.¡± ¡°Oooooh, the James you had a crush on?¡± El¡¯s mom leaned in and gave James a joking elbow to the ribs that nonetheless hurt like hell. ¡°Mom!¡± El looked like she wanted to hide under the driveway, if possible, as she turned a shade of red pretty close to the car behind her. ¡°That¡¯s literally the opposite of what I said!¡± ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± James offered politely, ¡°when we first met, the first thing she did was shoot me.¡± ¡°Eleanor!¡± Her mother looked chagrined. ¡°*That is also not true!*¡± El yelled at James. Anesh tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, ¡°Yeah, that was technically the second time? The first time was you and Alanna failing to explain yourselves properly.¡± ¡°Not helping.¡± James whispered back. ¡°Mom, please stop embarrassing me in front of my friends.¡± El¡¯s tone was almost¡­ was that *petulence* in there? James tried very hard not to smirk as the reminder of just how young El actually was sunk in. ¡°We¡¯re just friends, *they¡¯re dating*, and I don¡¯t have a crush on any of them. Okay?¡± El¡¯s mom stepped up in front of James, still holding the leash to a dog that was currently giving curious sniffs to a nervous Rufus. She looked up at him, almost a full head shorter than he was, and gave him an interrogating look that made him almost instantly uncomfortable. Eventually, after what felt like a decade of gazing, she stepped back and nodded once. ¡°You have kind eyes.¡± She said sagely, before stepping in and folding James and Anesh in a hug made awkward by the dog leash by way of approving greeting. And, while hugging, whispered in their ears; ¡°If my daughter gets hurt, no one will ever find your bodies.¡± Before stepping back, still wearing that all-knowing mom smile, and telling her daughter ¡°Well, have fun Eleanor. Make sure you clean up before dinner time. Come on Ingrid!¡± She clicked her tongue and pulled the curious dog up the front porch and into the house. There was a moment of quiet, where the only noise was the distant roar of cars on the highway and wind in the sky. ¡°Well.¡± James started. ¡°*That* was weird.¡± ¡°Is your mother¡­¡± Anesh started, but couldn¡¯t find a good noun to finish with. ¡°...Nevermind.¡± ¡°Oh my god, I am going back under the car, and I¡¯m never coming out.¡± El announced. ¡°Go away, leave me to my shame.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be so dramatic.¡± James laughed. ¡°That could have been *way* more embarrassing for you! Anyway. We need to go find a place to stay for the next few days. Hopefully before you overwhelming infatuation with me overrides your better judgement and-¡° James ducked, enhanced perception giving him just enough time to avoid the lug nut El had just chucked at his head. ¡°Get out of my driveway!¡± She shouted at him. But there was no bite of anger in the words, and James was giggling manically all the way back into the car, and for about a block after that. _____ ¡°How¡¯s he doing?¡± Reed asked, entering Research¡¯s den of inquiry, sipping at a cup of something warm that was *probably* caffeinated. He was speaking about Nikhail, who was presently occupying one of four observation chambers that Research had remodeled into. Previously, the basement they were in had held what could best be described as a ¡®vault¡¯. And they still had secure storage down here, to be sure. But with the help - or perhaps better to say, entirely with the hard work of - some of the new members of the Order who were well versed in construction, the vault had been refitted into a series of four rooms. It wasn¡¯t too much different from an observation room at a hospital, really, which was where they¡¯d partially stolen the idea from. Locks and light controls on the outside, viewing windows, and a slew of measuring devices to check for anything ¡®off¡¯ inside the chambers. Reed had wanted something like this, since before they¡¯d started actually trying to work with infomorphs more. But it was only now that the camracondas had their own home floor, and a more dedicated place of worship, that they had moved their most precious artifacts out of the vault and given Research space to start messing with things. One of those rooms contained Nikhail. It was, to be fair, nicely furnished. Just with very little that could be turned into a weapon without significant effort. And with someone always watching, that effort wouldn¡¯t go unnoticed. His current status was ¡®mildly annoyed, but distracted by catching up on Netflix¡¯. Another room contained the two ¡®wild¡¯ camracondas that Simon had brought back about¡­ oh, a month ago? They were visited frequently by other camracondas, who did their best to establish communications with their brethren. But despite being outside the dungeon¡¯s reach, the new arrivals were randomly hostile, and didn¡¯t seem to understand communication in the same way the older ones did. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Feeling-Of-Home described them as children. Immature, perhaps because they had never been truly pushed to adapt. Currently, Davis, on watch for this shift, also chose to describe Nikhail as a child. ¡°He¡¯s being a baby about it.¡± The older man gestured with the half an apple he was eating, sitting leaned back behind a desk that had been set up in the observation area. ¡°Even though this is entirely his fault.¡± ¡°I can feel you being a jerk!¡± Nik shouted from inside the room. Pointlessly shouted, since the observation chambers were wired for sound. ¡°Like that.¡± Davis nodded to himself. ¡°No signs of any compulsion, though. Unless you count rude gestures. No signs of modification, changes in temperature, radio interference, any radiation fluctuations really, or anything else we¡¯ve thought of.¡± Davis glanced up at Reed. ¡°Normal across the board. Should we let him out?¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Reed glanced down at the readouts Davis turned his way. ¡°Tomorrow. Just in time for the deescalation classes with the new Response members.¡± He looked up and met Davis¡¯ eyes. ¡°If we¡¯re all being sort-of punished for being reckless, Nik gets the extra condescending version of that.¡± Davis gave a sharkish grin. ¡°Got it. Also, I enjoy the classes. I¡¯m learning a lot about people.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I¡¯m kinda into it too.¡± Reed admitted. ¡°Though it¡¯s a bit¡­ um¡­ what¡¯s the word for being super concerned by all the implications of something?¡± ¡°Working here.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­ okay haha. But every time we go through one of the training courses on subdual or spotting signs of abuse or diffusing fights, um¡­¡± Reed rapped his knuckles against each other nervously. ¡°Okay, a lot of it is depressing because it implies a depressing world where people are shit. But have you noticed how often the people teaching the class start with ¡®we had to put this together from a lot of different sources¡¯, and literally only once, for the martial arts stuff, do they say ¡®we got this from a police training manual¡¯?¡± ¡°I usually miss the first five minutes of any given class, because the elevator is getting kinda clogged up.¡± Davis admitted. Reed rolled his eyes. ¡°Take the stairs. I know you can. You *act* old, but you¡¯ve got a dozen purple orbs keeping you going.¡± ¡°Respect your elders, sonny!¡± Davis put on a crackling old man voice. ¡°But no. We have stairs?¡± ¡°Yeh, every basement has stairs. How have you not noticed this?¡± Reed folded his arms and leaned his hip against the desk. ¡°Did you think the basements were just huge fire hazards with only one exit?¡± Davis opened his mouth, and Reed cut him off, ¡°Don¡¯t answer that. Take the stairs. It¡¯s easy once you figure out which staircase goes where.¡± ¡°Do you ever feel like there¡¯s too much going on around here?¡± Davis asked, sounding tired, almost to the point of numbness. ¡°How are we supposed to keep up with everything? Like, oh, hey, you know how we have an iLipede that can tell us where a given thing was produced? Well, for obvious reasons, we gave it one of the Status Quo bracers. Did you know that iLipedes can - and will! - set the bracers to intercept dust motes and burn through all the stored charges to see the lights?¡± ¡°That¡¯s cool? Also, Sarah has a podcast? That might help. And I bet she¡¯d love to know that.¡± Reed offered, but then shook his head. ¡°Hell if I know how to keep up on everything. Hey, here¡¯s something else fun. Did you know that the camracondas can have memory problems if their voices or arms get unplugged suddenly? Not, like, serious ones or anything. But they forget faces and names and stuff for a few seconds. Until someone snaps them out of it, I guess? We haven¡¯t looked into it too much so far, but that new hardware guy, Mike? He¡¯s concerned about it. Specifically, he¡¯s concerned about brain damage.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that can happen to people, too.¡± Davis nodded. ¡°Learned that in the support group when someone tripped on a router during a meeting. Weird two minutes where a couple people puzzled out that they were married.¡± ¡°Were they?¡± ¡°Not at the time!¡± Davis replied. ¡°I think they¡¯re engaged now? It¡¯s hard to-¡° ¡°To keep up on everything, yeah yeah yeah.¡± Reed laughed. ¡°Alright. Well, I just wanted to make sure Nik was doing okay. I¡¯ll be back in a couple hours to take over.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Barkdust¡¯ll be here for the next shift. Take some time off.¡± Davis didn¡¯t say why, exactly, and he used an almost suspiciously casual tone as he waved an empty coffee mug around. ¡°We¡¯ve got this.¡± Reed narrowed his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not taking time off.¡± He grumbled, suddenly acutely aware of the surgery scar in his side. ¡°Also stop being nice. I liked it better when everyone was mildly antagonistic.¡± ¡°I can want you not to bleed out and be an asshole at the same time.¡± Davis challenged, all sense of playing it straight gone from his voice. ¡°Now get out of here.¡± ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± Reed grumbled, stalking away. _____ James and Anesh pulled into the parking lot of one of two motels in the city. Well, they tried to. The parking lot was packed, despite the ¡®vacancy¡¯ sign being on. So what ended up happening instead was that Anesh headed off to find somewhere on the street to park, while James moseyed inside to get them a room. ¡°Just making sure,¡± he started with as he came up to the front counter, ¡°you do have rooms open, right?¡± ¡°Oh yeah.¡± The old guy nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve got, like, two rooms filled right now? It¡¯s the off season.¡± James¡¯ follow up question about who the hell decided to pour cars into the parking lot like sand down an hourglass vanished from his head as something much more interesting came to light. ¡°Oh yeah?¡± He raised his eyebrows. ¡°What¡¯s the *on* season like?¡± ¡°Same as now, but with a couple college kids that got lost on the way to spring break somewhere else.¡± The motel¡¯s keeper didn¡¯t even bother to shrug. Barely moved at all from where he was reading a magazine with his feet up on the edge of a potted plant, chair tipped back a hair. ¡°You want a room?¡± ¡°Yeah. For about a week, maybe more.¡± James said in amusement. ¡°Cheaper if you pay up front.¡± The old man told him, still not moving. ¡°More expensive if I leave early.¡± James countered. The old guy grunted, and finally put the magazine down, and rolled his chair over to the desk to give James a short page to sign and a bill, followed by a pair of room keys. ¡°Seven. Front of the building.¡± He told him. ¡°No pets.¡± James said nothing. Rufus wasn¡¯t a pet, after all. Anesh met him out front with their suitcases. ¡°We good?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah. Room seven.¡± James tossed him a key which his boyfriend had to fumble for. ¡°Fuck, I forgot to ask about all the cars.¡± He grumbled, navigating through the dense line of vehicles in the parking lot to get to the little sidewalk that led to their room. ¡°Place is clean at least!¡± James happily pointed out. ¡°If I see anything even vaguely centipede shaped in our room, I¡¯m burning the state down.¡± Anesh said, apropos of nothing. ¡°That happened *once*.¡± James reminded him. ¡°Once too often.¡± Anesh scowled. ¡°Never again.¡± He informed James as he led them in rolling the bags toward their room. He got about to the doorstep of room seven before he was interrupted by an inflated rubber ball bouncing out between two of the parked cars, and thunking into the back of his leg, sending him stumbling with a yelp and Ganesh launching off his shoulder with a buzzing hum. James caught the ricochet of the ball under his foot, balancing with a duffel bag in one hand, and a suitcase handle in the other, trying not to step too hard on the toy. A second later, he spotted the kid it belonged to as a young girl came scampering out from between the cars. She was maybe ten or eleven, wearing a light coat with the hood up even in this heat, and James saw her eyes get wide as she looked at him. ¡°Careful!¡± He said, pushing off with his foot and rolling her ball back toward her. ¡°Lotta cars around here, don¡¯t wanna get run over.¡± He informed the child. ¡°Yes sir, mister wizard.¡± The girl said meekly, not meeting James¡¯ eye at all before she grabbed her ball and sprinted away back between the rows of weathered pickups and beat up camaros. Anesh looked back at his boyfriend with wide eyes, before he couldn¡¯t contain his laughter anymore and it bellowed out of him with a snort. ¡°Oh man, she¡¯s got your number!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°Bah!¡± James responded, sliding past to set the bags he was holding down and giving his aching arms a break. ¡°Must be the kid El talked about. But I thought¡­ hm. I¡¯ll have to ask her about it tomorrow. You think she sees magic?¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be the weirdest thing.¡± Anesh said. ¡°We could try finding their room and asking whoever she¡¯s traveling with.¡± ¡°El said it was the kid and a mom, so yeah.¡± James nodded. ¡°But for now, I am going to take a shower that lasts between one and two hours, and then I¡¯m going to revel in the feeling of having wifi again.¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re going to go into the bathroom, turn the shower on, and get distracted sitting and reading Reddit on your phone looking for mentions of us for an hour.¡± Anesh corrected him. ¡°Which is why I¡¯m using the bathroom first.¡± ¡°I love you, and feel incredibly persecuted right now.¡± James grumped, folding his arms and throwing himself onto one of the beds. _____ Karen sat in her office, doing her best impression of someone who was focused on her work, and not at all interested in what the *hell* her daughter was thinking running off to *Australia* of all places, and when¡­! Karen set aside the pen she realized she was threatening to snap in half, and calmly tapped the world¡¯s most useful object to the stack of papers in front of her to reorganize them. She took a deep breath. All family issues aside, Karen actually was having a frustrating evening. The problem, as so many problems eventually looped back around to, was money. And while she wasn¡¯t nearly as eager to shatter the worldly systems of finance as James was, she did have to admit that keeping the budget for this place was a challenge she could perhaps do without. Her attention had been split a lot harder toward the accounting side of things, since any attempts at recovery had largely gone nowhere. And while the decoding of Status Quo¡¯s documentation continued, and would eventually, hopefully, come up with something useful, Karen just wasn¡¯t part of that project anymore. No, these days, she left the missing persons searches to the growing expertise of Response and their increasing control over mind linked scout drone swarms, and instead just tried to keep the power on and the parking lot intact. The thing that was killing her was, ever since she¡¯d found out that the Order had access to a *duplication machine*, Karen had assumed that they could solve every financial problem they¡¯d ever have. Then, when James and Anesh and the others who controlled what went into the machine and how the output got used *didn¡¯t* solve those problems, she wrote long, *long* reports on high-value-low-volume materials they could be copying, to stabilize their situation long term. She¡¯d missed something, though, while she was busy being angry they weren¡¯t creating chunks of platinum. Which was that the duplications were very limited, and what they chose to duplicate was, in fact, very intentional. Practical things. Safety and knowledge for their members. Improvements to their properties that helped everyone. Immune boosters, muscle growth enhancers, the *cure for cancer*. James had self-mockingly informed her that when they¡¯d started, they¡¯d duplicated *bullets*, and Karen didn¡¯t know whether to laugh, cry, or try to strangle him. Now, though, they replicated telepads, and used them to fuel the most rapid emergency response unit possible. It was very frustrating to work with exceptionally smart people who had just slightly different priorities. Because it was hard to argue that they should cancel a print run of forty six of the orbs that made a human immune to cancer forever, in favor of¡­ what, printing a few bricks of gold? What did *gold* matter, in the face of that? Also Karen had been informed that the Lair had a vein of gold. Specifically, lodes of the stuff, formed in sizes well beyond what was normal. Karen had checked. It seemed as if someone had looked at what a standard native metal deposit of gold would look like, saw that it had a lot of quartz and pyrite in there, and just shrugged and replaced all that extra stuff with *more gold*. It was preposterous, it was *quite* extensive, no one really minded the noise of drilling into the growing tunnel, and Karen refused to rely on it. It was, she knew in her gut, going to run out. It would help, absolutely. It *was helping*. The undoubtedly and perfectly understandably suspicious smelter that Karen had contracted to dispose of the ¡®waste¡¯ silver from the cooler caves could handle gold just as well. Though it being unregistered and in such large quantities would become suspicious to other parties in short order, and he advised her to look into distributing who she sold to, even if only because he couldn¡¯t keep liquid assets available to soak too much more. They were solvent for six months out. More, if the FBI continued to uncover problems. Less if James decided to build a moon base again and Karen honestly couldn¡¯t tell him that they couldn¡¯t afford the materials. But they were still adding new people, and budgeting more and more for everyone¡¯s different projects and training that they didn¡¯t have easy access to orbs for. The totem experiments were promising, though. Karen had asked their unwitting new architects to figure out if they could make a ¡®structure¡¯ out of valuable materials that could be easily dismantled, but still register as walls and floor to the orange totems that could duplicate buildings but not, it seemed, furniture, orbs, people, or anything even remotely not nailed down. There was also the business software the first generation of chips had finished growing, the digital seeds and their carefully balanced inputs cracking open to reveal highly specialized tools that a good management team would find invaluable. At least, that was the sales pitch. It wasn¡¯t even a lie; the tools were things the Order had made for itself, to direct their energetic chaos as effectively as possible. And while it was a little strange having to tell a program when you *liked* to sleep, and also when you *felt best having slept*, as if those were different things, Karen couldn¡¯t deny that their scheduling application was eerily on point when it came to assigning knights and aspirants to groups. Where the sales pitch ran into reality was a problem. For one thing, a lot of elements like scheduling had become harshly simplified with the pandemic for a lot of companies. And for larger corporations, they used in-house software that didn¡¯t work very well, and didn¡¯t care. For another, it was simply very hard to justify the expense of a piece of software to a company that wasn¡¯t actively shopping. And it only took a few attempts before Karen and her assistants had come to the joint conclusion that sales calls were shit and no one should ever have to work a job that involved taking or making calls all day, and had just hired a local freelancer to make a professional website that was easily searchable and could accept credit cards for product keys. The games that a few people had set to growing, mostly the high school students and also James when he thought no one was looking, were still germinating. Karen was reasonably sure that most of those wouldn¡¯t make it to a ¡®finished product¡¯ stage, as they clearly were going to need more input data than more utilitarian tools. But she¡¯d set them up with a developer account on Steam anyway, in case they wanted to take one to market. Overall, it wasn¡¯t an income stream like she¡¯d been hoping for. Though it did bring up an interesting thought. Why not sell the chips directly? They weren¡¯t personally empowering magic, like the orbs or books were. They could obviously be abused, but Karen wasn¡¯t stupid. Even the simple efficiency programs and office tools they were offering could be abused. Any increase in the efficacy of an evil system resulted in ¡®more evil¡¯. She didn¡¯t need a degree and twenty years of work experience to know *that* math. The thought took her down an interesting track though. The silver was an excellent steady source of renewable income, because the dungeon kept resetting. What other resource extraction could they capitalize on that would maybe have more direct benefit, without being overly challenging? The printer ink ocean was right out. There were a *number* of old notes from Alanna, and they all ignored the challenge of building a pipeline, factory, and shipping network. No. Karen actually bothered to give that idea a stern frown. It didn¡¯t even account for the thorned whale creatures that lived in that particularly viscous sea. Food was unreliable, the actual building materials were usually mundane and not especially useful, computer parts were clearly fantastic for when the two boys had been starting out, but couldn¡¯t sustain an actual organization like this. Also there was the eternal risk one of them would be magical in a way that was truly dangerous. The Office, it seemed, would need deeper exploration to truly figure out if there was anything in there worth going back for over and over, like with the caves. But Officium Mundi wasn¡¯t the only dungeon they knew of, was it? Karen had no interest in pillaging the attic; she knew what it was too well, and didn¡¯t wish it any harm. But the sewer? Now *there* was an idea. Many of the world¡¯s most useful medicines and chemicals were derived from plants or fungi that were, at first glance, horribly lethal. Not from the actual glance, that was a dungeon thing, not a reality thing. But they were fatal to smell, to taste, to touch wrong. And even beyond that, the discovery of new species of biological life pushed human science forward one more step. Mushrooms and spores, insects, liquids that defied normal physics¡­ maybe they could leave that last one alone for now. But here, perhaps, there was a chance to contribute to human progress, and collect a finder¡¯s fee in the process. She started looking into how one would go about capitalizing on discovering a new and hostile species of mold. Then she purchased a few hundred sample vials online, and began formatting another list of delver equipment. There was a delve scheduled for Friday, three days from now. She¡¯d talk to some people before then to make sure. And then, all things working out, maybe they could find something that would be a lot more reproducible than the anti-cancer purples. _____ Alanna was headed west. She¡¯d started out strong; leaving Florida by the first highway she ran across and making good time up to Atlanta. Atlanta was not a city that Alanna felt comfortable in, though and she¡¯d left before really making it into the city proper. Just kind of skipped along the sprawl of suburbs, burning the last of her money on a full tank of gas before passing by an continuing northeast toward Jacksonville and the east coast. She had no idea what she was looking for. She just had this idea that she¡¯d know it when she saw it. Or when she was close enough, hopefully. Alanna picked up a few odd jobs along the way, leveraging a seemingly unceasing stamina and upper body strength into forty bucks here, sixty bucks there, in helping people move furniture or shovel gravel. More than a few times, she was pretty sure that the pitying grandmothers using her for yard work were more interested in giving themselves an excuse to shove some cash and cookies into her hands than anything else. But Alanna wasn¡¯t, as near as she could tell, the kind of person who accepted charity when she didn¡¯t have to. And god *damn* if she didn¡¯t leave that old woman¡¯s yard looking more beautiful than it had in decades. The cash got turned into gas. For supplies, every now and then Alanna would just rob a Wal Mart. She¡¯d thought she¡¯d feel bad about it, but despite having a cultural understand that shoplifting was wrong, it didn¡¯t ping any sense of guilt that she could detect. Maybe it was the scale. It wasn¡¯t like Alanna was stealing a couple candy bars or something. No, she had bigger aspirations than that. There was a voice in the back of her head that reminded her that a clipboard and a marked container was, along with one of those green vests, basically tactical invisibility for social situations. No one would question the person who was selecting what *must* be defective produce and removing it, or carrying an entire pallet of bottled water away. Walk like you were supposed to be there, and take the back employee exit, and basically no one was interested in stopping you. Hell, the employees always seemed so *tired*, they probably wouldn¡¯t have stopped her anyway. At a certain point, after one particular odd job that wasn¡¯t crime based, Alanna made the bizarre realization that her wallet was bigger on the inside. She¡¯d stared at it for an hour; not in confusion, but more hoping that it would help her uncover some clue in her memory. But just like with her inability to overheat or her power to sense emotions, it didn¡¯t do much aside from be a highly useful tool to an aspiring master thief. She could fit a ton of granola bars in there. And granola bars didn¡¯t care if they were broken in half by the wallet¡¯s fold. So instead, she went searching for memories elsewhere. Driving on. And at a certain point, Alanna realized she was headed west. She didn¡¯t know when it had happened. She didn¡¯t have a phone or a GPS of any kind. Instead she was navigating by a beat up atlas with a ripped cover that had been buried in the glove box of her truck. It was, almost certainly, a little out of date. But she still acknowledged, when she checked the signs around her, that even this shitty old atlas shouldn¡¯t have gotten her lost on interstate forty. Alanna went over options in her head. A wrong turn somewhere? Maybe. But how would she not have noticed? It had been over a day of constant driving. She¡¯d stopped at a gas station or truck stop at least a few times, even a completely blind driver should have noticed that they weren¡¯t moving toward their target *coastline*. Had she literally just zoned out and not paid attention? No, she made the decision, folding the atlas up. Something else was going on. She was going west because she knew she was supposed to, somehow. Even if her plans didn¡¯t, even if she couldn¡¯t think it herself. She knew. Alanna tossed the atlas back into the cluttered passenger seat, and stepped off the gravel shoulder where she¡¯d pulled over. There were no cars out, it was one AM on some empty stretch of wilderness highway. She was in more danger of being hit by a rogue deer than a vehicle. And she¡¯d made a choice. Wherever she was going, there was a road nearby. Roads touched everywhere in this part of the country, Alanna had noticed, after getting once in an old logging town that stubbornly refused to die. The interstates were these massive arteries, sometimes moving millions of cars a minute, sometimes quiet empties like now. But off of them, highways and byways and surface streets spread like the fingers of some old asphalt god. The reached to cities, towns, homes, farms, abandoned mining facilities, old historical sites, and singular ranches in the middle of nowhere. Wherever her heart told her she needed to go, there¡¯d be a road to get there. She got back in the car and turned the key, sparking the old coughing engine to life. Alanna was heading west. _____ ¡°What can we expect?¡± James asked in a soft voice that still carried over the low mechanical hum of the two engines. Their car was pulled over behind El¡¯s mechanically complete abomination, currently looking like a perfectly normal if slightly scuffed up Mazda, on the side of a freeway under the one of the last streetlights for a while. It was eighty nine degrees out. There was no shade to hide in, as the sun was currently down and the sky was dark. Because it was two AM, and apparently summer temperatures had stopped playing by the rules of logic. El was struggling to get a bandolier to stop getting tangled in her hair. She¡¯d cut it short for almost this exact reason, and yet it was continuing to annoy her. The slots on the bandolier were filled with neat rows of red and copper shotgun shells, ready to go for the break action double barrel she had flagrantly illegally displayed in her passenger seat. In contrast, James and Anesh were already set to go, the parts of their armor they could comfortably wear while driving on, their weapons cleaned, checked, and good to go. They¡¯d had a lot more practice, though. She looked up at the question, and clicked her tongue with a grimace. ¡°I actually don¡¯t know if I should tell you?¡± El half questioned herself. ¡°Why though.¡± James spread his arms. ¡°We are *right here*. You can¡¯t just tell us nothing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ okay, how do you get into the Office?¡± El asked. ¡°A door.¡± James said. El rolled her eyes at him, the motion so exaggerated that he wouldn¡¯t have missed it even if they weren¡¯t standing in a puddle of orange light. ¡°Cool.¡± Her sarcasm washed over them. ¡°That¡¯s not how this works.¡± James sighed. ¡°Is this gonna be weird?¡± He asked. ¡°Is the concept of using a door just native to my state?¡± ¡°It is weird. Shut up.¡± El bit back. Then she took a breath, and in a storyteller¡¯s voice, explained. ¡°There¡¯s a feeling that you get when you¡¯re running away from everything.¡± She said, staring up at the fraction of the moon hanging over the horizon behind them, a white wedge over a field of glimmering lights from a distant city. ¡°A feeling where you don¡¯t know exactly where you¡¯re going, but you¡¯re excited to be moving. You could probably give it a name, like the call of adventure or something like that, but don¡¯t. This isn¡¯t the kind of thing where a name helps, where words really help. This isn¡¯t your kind of art.¡± She glanced back at James and Anesh, who were giving her solemn looks. ¡°You get into the Road by not thinking about what¡¯s behind you, or what¡¯s ahead. You get there by just being a traveller.¡± She cracked a smile. ¡°And, you know, *here*, at 2 AM on a warm night. Gotta be a warm night, always.¡± El told them with a raised finger. ¡°It¡¯s a pretty damn warm night.¡± James agreed. ¡°So, yeah. I¡¯m not great with this kinda stuff. But I don¡¯t think I should tell you what¡¯s in there. Or you¡¯ll be looking forward to that, and not¡­ being. Here.¡± El shrugged. ¡°I think I can lead you in, but you¡¯ve gotta be at least a little lined up right with the door. As for what¡¯s over there¡­ I mean, it¡¯s a road. And some monsters and stuff. I¡¯ll show you when we make it.¡± James nodded. ¡°Got it.¡± He said, cracking the bones in his neck as he rolled his head from side to side. Tapping his foot on the ground, Anesh agreed. ¡°We¡¯ve got a little practice just driving.¡± He smiled at his partner. ¡°We can follow you.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± El said. ¡°It¡¯s about time.¡± She didn¡¯t check her clock. Didn¡¯t need to. As near as she knew, the door here opened when it *felt* like it was time, not according to any actual timekeeping device. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± She didn¡¯t waste any more time. It wasn¡¯t with impatience or a hurried rush that she slid into her driver¡¯s seat and started her engine. After all, if it was a hurry, El probably wouldn¡¯t have taken the time to roll down the windows and fiddle with the bass on her radio. No, it was just that she felt like she wanted to get moving, so she did. No real need to waste time chatting any more, when she could instead be flying across the black ribbon of road stretching out into the night. James and Anesh weren¡¯t quite so elegant about it. Anesh fumbled his seatbelt the first couple times, and James couldn¡¯t get his heart to stop pounding so loud he could hear it. ¡°You know.¡± James said, in the quiet interior of their car, lit up by the furious red of El¡¯s tail lights. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be this nervous when we started?¡± Anesh scoffed a bit, finally getting his seatbelt in place. ¡°You haven¡¯t been looking forward to this?¡± ¡°Oh, I have. But, like¡­ vacation, right? A week of driving and I felt *good*. And now I¡¯m here, and it¡¯s like¡­ holy shit, I don¡¯t feel like I actually know what I want.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°What the hell is wrong with me?¡± ¡°A number of legitimate mental health issues.¡± Anesh reminded him. ¡°Hey. We don¡¯t have to do this tonight.¡± He reassured James. ¡°We¡¯re under no pressure, huh? It¡¯s not like we need to do some kind of anime training arc where we turn into improbably muscled versions of ourselves so we can come back and punch god, who has kidnapped our cat, or something.¡± ¡°What anime have you been watching without me?¡± James asked, giving Anesh a puzzled smile. ¡°It¡¯s an aggregate thing.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James laughed. ¡°You know what? Maybe I¡¯m overthinking this. Hey.¡± He reached over and held out a hand, which Anesh curved his arm around to take. They were wearing the padded gloves that fit into the plated armor shells on their arms, but the shared grip was still reassuring. ¡°You wanna go on an adventure?¡± James asked. ¡°Yes,¡± And before James could say anything else, Anesh continued, ¡°and this time I¡¯ll be picking our soundtrack.¡± ¡°Noooo!¡± James let out an uproar of laughter as he pushed the car into gear, and rolled out onto the empty road to follow after El. He and Anesh were still laughing together as the two cars cut through a line in the air, and slipped out of reality. Chapter 150 ¡°If you obey all the rules, you¡¯ll miss all the fun.¡± - Katharine Hepburn - _____ Last night, James had dreamed. It wasn¡¯t really much of a dream, as far as he was concerned. It was just himself, sitting with Anesh in their motel room, playing some kind of board game. It was dark out, and the lights of passing cars and streetlights cut lines through the faded orange curtains of the street facing window. The AC unit was humming a metal song. And everything was perfectly ordinary. There was a small coffee table that had been moved to the foot of the bed. Varnished dark wood, marred with the strikes and marks of a lifetime in a motel where people didn¡¯t care about the furniture. Two chairs, newer, with coarse green cushions and wicker arms, sat on opposite sides. The fact that he¡¯d found himself concerned, and not awake, was what really caught him off guard. ¡°Your play.¡± Anesh said. James kept his mind on the rudder of the dream logic. He¡¯d really gotten good at it, but he didn¡¯t have room to be smug here. Dreaming was like...like a really old laptop, trying to run a dozen programs at once. There was limited space, and you had to pick what emotions and thoughts mattered. So he let the dream flow, and made his move. ¡°Go.¡± He told Anesh. ¡°Strange.¡± Anesh tilted its head. ¡°Why that move?¡± James made another play, adjusting a pawn on the board. Putting it somewhere it would be able to grow better. The space they were in was too crowded, there was no room for them to shine there. ¡°You¡¯re playing the wrong game.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I¡¯m playing the game that matters.¡± James told the thing sitting across from him. He tried to focus on the board. There was a piece in play that he wasn¡¯t allowed to know about, which was frustrating. If he knew what it was, though, he could use it better. Make the other pieces better. He narrowed his dreaming eyes. It was *right there*, he could just¡­ ¡°You¡¯ve gotta let that one go.¡± Anesh told him. James glanced up sharply. Sharper than he should have been able to, in a dream. With a hard gaze, he tried to figure out what about Anesh had changed. ¡°You see so much.¡± Not Anesh muttered. ¡°It¡¯s not a power, it¡¯s just you. How, I wonder?¡± James didn¡¯t answer. He went back to trying to look at his missing piece. ¡°Stop.¡± The interloper told him. And with the word, its side of the dream shifted to sorrow. Dimmer lights and a pitying expression greeted James as he looked up. ¡°You don¡¯t want to do that.¡± It said. ¡°Why not?¡± James asked. ¡°It¡¯s one of mine. I can feel it.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± Anesh¡¯s face looked strange with that gaze of dark consideration on it. ¡°How aware are you, really?¡± The stranger asked. ¡°Enough, perhaps.¡± It tapped the game board with a long, weary finger. ¡°Taken you long enough.¡± James had questions. He was waking up. But the dream wasn¡¯t breaking. His eyes weren¡¯t opening. He was waking up, and he was still in *this* motel room. He turned dream eyes on the door, but knew there was nothing beyond it, before looking back to what was here with him. ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked. ¡°The Right Person,¡± It said. ¡°At The Right Moment.¡± The words echoed with a style of truth to them, a kind of ontological certainty that was etched onto the fabric of all things. It would have been, James figured, impossible for this thing to lie about its name. ¡°That¡¯s not actually an answer.¡± James told it. Because, dream or not, mouthing off to authority figures was just sort of an otological truth of his own at this point. The Right Person, At The Right Moment laughed softly at the narrative. ¡°Ware.¡± It told him. ¡°You might not like it if *that* defines you forever.¡± It said. It was still wearing Anesh¡¯s eyes, but they went on for miles and miles, years and years, of tired trials. ¡°Why are we in my dream?¡± James asked, barely brushing his thoughts against the thin cage of sleep. The figure across from him gave a small shrug. ¡°There aren¡¯t many places around you in the real where it¡¯s safe for me to be.¡± James turned away from it. The game was still in progress. He could think more about it now, but his eyes drifted back to that one piece that he couldn¡¯t know. ¡°What happened to them?¡± He asked. ¡°They did the right thing.¡± It said, shaking its head. ¡°Idiot. Picked it up from someone they met once.¡± And then, in that quieter sad echo, they added, ¡°You know why you can¡¯t think about them?¡± Thoughts ticked in James¡¯ head. His physical mind was still a limit, and how fast time was working here was up in the air. But his physical mind was still pushed well beyond human normal, and it didn¡¯t take him more than a few subjective days to make the connection. ¡°Because they¡¯re an infomorph.¡± He said. ¡°I can almost remember them. Wouldn¡¯t that¡­ bring them back?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The Right Person, At The Right Moment said. ¡°And you are so, so close. Now. Ask the next question that I¡¯m thinking.¡± ¡°Back from where?¡± James whispered. ¡°From a next life. From a sister that loves her. From a new start.¡± It was a cruel truth, James couldn¡¯t help but to sob at it. Whoever it had been, whatever they had meant, was gone. And they could come back; whole and remade, as if nothing had ever changed at all. All it would take¡­ was a small sacrifice. And everyone in this facade of a room knew what choice he¡¯d never make. James cried for a long time, in this dream space. And the entity waited, patiently. Only occasionally stealing moves in their game. But as with all grief, eventually, the worst of the venom was drained away, and James was left wishing that he could sleep. He felt exhausted, and empty. But still, he rolled off the uncomfortable motel mattress, dried his eyes, and got up. There were still questions and answers. The dream would have ended if he was no longer needed in it. ¡°You gave me a lock once, didn¡¯t you?¡± James asked. A languid nod, another little affectation that didn¡¯t belong on Anesh. ¡°I did.¡± The other said. ¡°It was something you needed. Not quite sure why, but that¡¯s the way it goes more often than not.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering about that.¡± James was curious about the details. ¡°I could have made it without the weapon. Unless I used it wrong? Or at the wrong time? I don¡¯t understand why that, why then.¡± A truck rumbled past outside, past the door that went nowhere, out in an imagined street that didn¡¯t exist. ¡°You could have made it.¡± It nodded at him. ¡°I never have all my own answers, you know. All I know is that you needed it. Since the knots worked out, that means you used it well. That¡¯s all that matters. Sometimes, it¡¯s something small. One extra bullet, plus or minus, can tip the scales.¡± ¡°Is that what you do?¡± James questioned. ¡°Tip the scales.¡± It nodded. ¡°Little things. It matters more than you¡¯d think. Big picture stuff here.¡± ¡°Are you on our side?¡± ¡°You barely have a side.¡± ¡°Not an answer.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have one side.¡± ¡°How many sides are you on?¡± ¡°Two hundred and eighty eight. Eighty seven, if today ends badly.¡± ¡°They¡¯re¡­ all like me?¡± ¡°No one¡¯s like you. You¡¯re something new. Even I don¡¯t know what that means yet. But yeah, you¡¯re one of the sides I¡¯m pulling for.¡± ¡°There¡¯s something you¡¯re not letting me¡­ ask.¡± James felt a pressure in the back of his head. His actual, physical head, not this projection in the dream. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°I came here to help you let go.¡± ¡°That was before. Why are you still here?¡± ¡°Waiting to see if you can do it.¡± ¡°Do what?¡± ¡°Ask.¡± Could he? James didn¡¯t know. He had the words. He had the curiosity, the desire to know. But something was holding him back. There was a feeling like a hand clawed around his wrist, holding him back from reaching out, except it was around his whole mind, nails sinking into his soul. But this thing was here for a reason. It had made this dream and slipped on his boyfriend¡¯s form to accomplish something. And James couldn¡¯t just let it go without knowing. So he struggled. But all that did was cause the tension to increase. Brute force, just trying to think through the fog, wasn¡¯t working. It was like trying to outsmart a rampart. Something else then. Memory tricks, creative tools, discipline aids, nothing let him slip out of the increasing tightness. The more he struggled, the worse it got. It wasn¡¯t something he could fight, it was an immutable law of this dream, like trying to run from an explosion during a nightmare; it was never going to happen. James looked down at the game board. He made a play. Moved a paladin into the same space as another. Then he waited. It took a bit. But James had been having nightmares for a while now. And the first time he thrashed so much he woke Anesh up, his partner had found there was one perfect way to offer comfort to him. Anesh stepped into the dream through the skulljack link, wide eyed, instantly aware of the dream logic that was going on, and *furious* to see an intruder wearing his face, holding James¡¯ spirit by the throat. ¡°*What do you want*?¡± Anesh demanded of it. The Right Person, At The Right Moment could have cried, or laughed, in equal measure. It grinned, a wild, manic smile that split the false face it was wearing. Around them, the dream was coming apart. The walls of the motel were just *gone* when no one was watching. Chunks of things and conceptual objects vanishing without focus as the two partners began to truly wake up. ¡°For the first time in four hundred years...¡± it gasped the words as the dream dissolved, ¡°I can say¡­ that I want you¡­ to...¡± it stumbled to its feet as the last of the furniture departed, leaving the three of them standing in a circle of white light in the middle of eternity, ¡°*help me*.¡± The last words came out in a hiss of panic, as it reached out for James, a pleading look in those old tired eyes. And then it was gone. James woke up. Anesh didn¡¯t. He just rolled over into a different dream, tugging James back down with an awkward yelp by the cord connecting them that he¡¯d sleepily plugged into their skulljacks. They¡¯d talk about what happened later. _____ The car slid through a mirage like a curtain of silk, heat distortions dancing before and around them like the road was two hundred degrees on a summer day. Which would have been impossible, it being two AM on a Sunday. The ripples in reality lapped at the wing mirrors, tugged their way through open windows, and shimmered around them in the night, the dark road growing thick with distortion as James put the pedal down and followed the now barely visible red specks of El¡¯s tail lights. The field was looking for something. For a sense of adventure, he might have called it. But what El had said was much closer. It was looking for him to be running *away*. Wasn¡¯t hard to slide into that mindset. James was on vacation, after all. And also there was a pretty strong desire to get away from whatever this stuff was that looked like it was trying to eat his car. Next to him in the passenger seat, James noticed Anesh clenching his teeth and gripping tight to the armrest as he watched one of the ripples getting closer to his head. And then, the distortions flared to even greater heights, heat waves in the dark of night, before they parted like a veil and fell away. James and Anesh whooped as the world around them lit up. They¡¯d made it. And were also partially blind while their eyes adjusted. ¡°El could have maybe warned us about the *bloody sun*.¡± Anesh had an arm in front of his face as he yelled. James had no such luxury, just trying to keep his watering eyes open enough to stay on the road. He wanted to respond that he suspected this dungeon had a softer form of antimeme, which was why El couldn¡¯t explain that much. But when he tried to form words, it just came out as a pained growly noise. When both of them could finally see, the sight of the space they¡¯d cut into was something else, though. The road stretched away from them, so far that it melded with the horizon. Gone were the trees and scrub brush. In its place, only flat dusty sand and gouts of red rock jutting out of the ground surrounded them. Ahead, El was slowing her car to a stop in the middle of the road, pointedly avoiding the gravel shoulder, and from his vantage point Anesh could see that it wasn¡¯t gravel, but thousands of dull metal burrs on the side of the road. Weeds grew up from that pile of metal. Plants of greens and yellows so bright against the dull sand that they almost hurt to look at. A few years ago, before having seen a little of how weird the real world could be, James would have thought them dungeon constructs. Now, though, he just recognized the mullein plants as the kind of things that grew in the natural world, and just looked bizarre if you ever stopped to take a closer peek at them. Overhead, a pair of suns that looked far too close for anything to live under them cast down angry rays, baking the road and the sand around them. One red, one yellow, side by side in the sky like they were in a close race to see which one got past noon faster. In the distance, James could see a small curve where the road forked. In the crook of the fork, maybe five miles away, was a tiny little speck of a structure that James couldn¡¯t quite make out, even with his upgraded eye. He let the car roll to a stop behind El, softly applying the brakes to shed speed. He¡¯d cracked his door and was about to step out, when Anesh called a warning. ¡°Something in the road!¡± His partner shouted at him, and James jerked his foot back, looking down to see a small bulge in the asphalt darting in swooping circles around his driver¡¯s side door. It wasn¡¯t the only one, either; there were maybe ten or twenty of the things, slowly circling their cars like mobile speed bumps. El had cracked the door to her own car and was standing in the footwell of the driver¡¯s seat, arms over the roof as she called back to them. ¡°Oh yeah! Watch out for those!¡± She yelled. ¡°They don¡¯t jump or anything, just don¡¯t let ¡®em get your toes!¡± ¡°How the fuck did you ever survive this place?!¡± James yelled back. ¡°Charm and good luck!¡± El replied. Anesh by this point had put his seat back and crawled into the back seat, getting a good look around them at the small pavement creatures. ¡°She must have a lot of good luck.¡± He muttered as he watched the school of speed bumps move. They didn¡¯t look like much; just moving blisters of asphalt. Maybe the side of a particularly thick arm. But the way the moved really did remind him of fish, and so far, he hadn¡¯t seen any of them try to break the surface. ¡°So, what now?¡± James called over to El. He stole a quick glance behind them, and noticed that the road that led back to reality seemed almost *flagrantly* boring. Like the dungeon knew what it had to offer, and was making the real world look as unappealing as possible. But it made the exit easy to spot, which was nice. ¡°Now we go find something.¡± She said. ¡°It¡¯s safer during the day, so we¡¯re in luck! If we stick to the side roads, we should be able to explore without anything serious trying to jump us.¡± ¡°Sorry, side roads?¡± James looked down the two lane highway again. ¡°What, exactly¡­¡± ¡°Can¡¯t tell you exactly.¡± El shrugged, seeming to not even notice that she wasn¡¯t kidding when she said ¡®can¡¯t¡¯. ¡°There¡¯s usually a lot of space between stuff though. This is normal. Normal for this place.¡± She corrected. ¡°We¡¯ll need to raid a gas station at some point. But it¡¯s fine. Time passes differently here, so there¡¯s no real pressure.¡± ¡°Differently *how*?!¡± James demanded. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t tell me. You can¡¯t tell me.¡± He sighed. The memeplex around this place was suddenly feeling a lot more dangerous, he realized. Why had they come in here without doing more questioning, more preparation? ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get moving. We¡¯ll follow you.¡± ¡°Okay! Keep an eye out for secret roads!¡± El yelled back. She seemed to be in good spirits, which was suddenly infuriating to James, who felt like he¡¯d almost been tricked into a dangerous situation. Partially by El, partially by the dungeon itself. ¡°Long distances, eh?¡± He grumbled under his breath as he looked down the shimmering road. Behind him, there was a grinding noise, and he turned to see Anesh tossing chunks of a ham sandwich onto the street, the little bulges in the asphalt quickly swarming them and splitting open into rows of grinding gears that snapped shut around the morsels of food and pulverized them. ¡°Making friends?¡± ¡°I wanted to see what they looked like inside.¡± Anesh shook his head with pursed lips. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°So, El¡¯s absolutely under some memetic effect.¡± James said as they got moving. Anesh stayed in the back seat, crouched in the middle of the car so that he could react quickly to anything. They¡¯d planned out their general engagement strategy, at least. ¡°And I think we might be too. Why didn¡¯t we prepare more?¡± ¡°We¡¯re pretty well armed.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°Yeah, but no extra gas cans.¡± James said. ¡°And we¡¯re always pretty well armed.¡± Standard body armor, slightly incredibly illegal P90s, shield bracers, and well sharpened short swords apiece. James was wearing the earring that let him turn invisible and perfect a strike, and Anesh had that weird binder that turned kinetic energy into paperwork worn as a buckler. They both had two blue orbs ready to go. Eight uses of [Shape Asphalt] apiece, with James also having forty or so [Refine Gas] charges, and Anesh getting luckier with [Separate Alloy]. They were more or less prepared for anything that they would have a chance against anyway. ¡°She said to keep an eye out for secret roads.¡± James told Anesh as they started driving again, quickly picking up to speed behind El. She wasn¡¯t being shy about opening up the throttle, so James trusted her experience, and kept up. ¡°Not sure how we¡¯re supposed to do that going seventy.¡± ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got time to figure it out.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I think I see another road across the desert.¡± He was looking out the driver¡¯s side back window at what looked like a distant grey river maybe a mile or two off in the distance. ¡°So¡­ is now a good time to talk?¡± James gave an unseen shrug. ¡°Probably. I dunno what to say.¡± ¡°Well the Old Gun made it clear she wasn¡¯t allowed into dungeons.¡± Anesh settled back, resting his arm against the headrests of the back seat. ¡°So at least we¡¯re *pretty sure* we won¡¯t be overheard here.¡± ¡°It was in my head.¡± James said quietly, hands tightening on the wheel in a motion that had nothing to do with his driving. ¡°How long has it been there?¡± He wondered. ¡°It knew about¡­ fuck, it knew about everything. I could feel it. It¡¯s like *her*.¡± Her being the Old Gun. Something that looked human, but no one who saw it thought that was anything but a nostalgic affectation. And the Right Person, At The Right Moment, was like that. ¡°You remember how we decided a while back that it was generally more efficient to spread dungeon power around, and build an organization using those tools, that could do good even without the magic?¡± Anesh commented, seemingly going off on a tangent. ¡°Yeah?¡± James relaxed slightly, even if only out of confusion. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Well, I feel like this is a really good post hoc argument for why we were right all along about that.¡± Anesh said dryly. ¡°Both of them are obviously tied to the dungeons, and both of them are *absurdly* powerful. I think this is just a little more evidence into the basket for the theory that they used to be human, and pushed that a little too far.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± James sighed again. ¡°What do we do about it?¡± ¡°About this one? Don¡¯t give me that look, I¡¯m not saying it¡¯s name every time. I think we do nothing.¡° Anesh gave his own sigh. ¡°What are we supposed to *do*, anyway? Help it? How? Fight it? *Why*?¡± No, we treat them the way we¡¯re treating the government. Keep going, keep our eyes open, and hope we don¡¯t get too much notice before we¡¯re ready to handle it properly.¡± ¡°Bah.¡± James waved a hand in the air, only barely paying attention to the road. ¡°You¡¯re right, but bah.¡± He slumped back into his seat. ¡°See any secret roads yet?¡± He asked. ¡°Nothing.¡± Anesh shook his head, alternating to the other side of the car. ¡°Are the speed bumps still chasing us?¡± He asked. Anesh peeked out the window, the rush of air at high speed tugging at his hair. ¡°I think they gave up a couple miles ago.¡± He said when he ducked back into the car. ¡°This place is weird.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± They kept driving, kept following El¡¯s car ahead of them. It was a strange feeling, because they¡¯d literally just been doing this same thing for a week. In theory, they had practice at it. But now, it was all so different. James knew they were in a dungeon. He could *feel* it. Anesh could too, though not quite as strongly. It was a feeling of electric salt on the tip of his nose, that there was something about the very air around them that wasn¡¯t possible, wasn¡¯t *real*. And that feeling made it functionally impossible to just zone out and let the desert roll by. This wasn¡¯t a relaxing road trip. This wasn¡¯t him and his boyfriend taking a drive across the country. This was a delve. ¡°Contact right.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice was calm, but sharp, and it was almost with *relief* that James finally had something to focus his tension on. To the right of the road they were driving, maybe two or three hundred feet away, there was the clear silhouette of another car, driving parallel to them in the sand. It wasn¡¯t kicking up any dust, though, which was why James hadn¡¯t spotted it. It also wasn¡¯t getting closer; just keeping pace with them as they drove. ¡°We¡¯re coming up on what looks like a gas station.¡± James said, eyes on a rapid rotation between the side windows, his mirrors and the road. ¡°Radio El, ask her what the plan is.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. He heard his partner talking through the two-way in the backseat while he kept the car on the roadway, and a minute later, Anesh relayed back to him the conversation with El. ¡°She says there¡¯s a break in the caltrops around buildings. Pull around behind the garage, and kill the engine. The other car should pass us.¡± James gave a quick ¡°Aye¡±, and started to let the car drift down from its considerable speed so that he could make the turn off easily. El didn¡¯t bother slowing as her own vehicle jerked in what seemed like a wild, heart stopping motion, through the gap in the metal spikes on the roadside, whipping around behind the simple brick structure of the gas station they¡¯d come up on rather abruptly. James didn¡¯t know why she was in such a hurry, but since nothing was trying to kill them, he decided to take it easy and not flip the car over. He pulled alongside El¡¯s bright red convertible just as she hopped out of it. To their left, the solid brick wall of the little gas station, to their right, only more desert. They were positioned such that whatever that car driving next to them was, there was a good chance it would miss them in the shade of the structure. ¡°Come on!¡± She shouted, waving a hand to them. James shrugged and killed the engine, both him and Anesh checking the pavement before hopping out and following El as she dashed around to the corner of the building. ¡°What,¡± James hissed at her as he and Anesh stacked up behind her, Anesh keeping a watch on their rear while James tried to peek at whatever El was looking for, ¡°are you doing?!¡± ¡°Avoiding the other drivers. Duh.¡± El said. ¡°*Why*!?¡± James asked. ¡°I get that this is hard for you, but *come on*. At least tell us what¡¯s going on *right now*.¡± He demanded. El blinked. Glanced back at him, blinked again. Then she straightened up, planting her back against the corner of the wall, leaning against a drainpipe, and sighed. ¡°Shit. It¡¯s in my head, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Just for this place, I think.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s try a different approach. Boy, that car sure is chasing us!¡± He stated with exaggerated enthusiasm. El gave a small, unimpressed frown at him for a few seconds, before she processed what he was saying. ¡°I get what you¡¯re trying to do, but I still feel like I¡¯m not supposed to tell you anything you haven¡¯t figured out.¡± ¡°El I explore dungeons for a living.¡± James reminded her. ¡°I am a professional whatever-this-is. You can safely assume I know things.¡± They all tensed up as the other car that had been shadowing them flew past, a couple hundred feet out in the rocky sand. It was moving a little slower than before, maybe looking for them. But it either didn¡¯t spot them, or didn¡¯t care now that they were parked. Anesh kept his gun sighted on it while it rolled past, just to be safe. ¡°Good point. Doesn¡¯t work.¡± El shook her head. ¡°Damn, I was hoping.¡± James snapped his fingers. ¡°Okay. So, you¡¯re clearly worried about the other cars. And since we¡¯re standing here, I¡¯m guessing parking lots are safe. You can give us *advice*, since you told us to kill the engine, and I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s what they¡¯re after? So. Do we check out the inside of the building now?¡± ¡°There¡¯s some cool stuff in them sometimes.¡± El said. And then, realizing what she¡¯d just said, she shivered, and added, ¡°And I¡­ can¡¯t explain what. Holy shit, now that you point this out, it¡¯s everywhere, isn¡¯t it? I hate this!¡± ¡°Welcome to memetic warfare.¡± James blew out a long breath. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. We¡¯re working on some countermeasures. Also, you survived in here without our help. We¡¯ll be okay tonight. Just do what you can, and we¡¯ll pick up the slack.¡± ¡°Fine. Got it. Okay. Let¡¯s go, and stay quiet.¡± El didn¡¯t look fine. It looked like she was clawing at her own hands in frustration. But James didn¡¯t want to say anything and make it worse. ¡°You left your gun in the car.¡± Anesh quietly informed El. She made a farting noise with her cheeks. ¡°I never shoot anything anyway.¡± She admitted. ¡°I mostly sneak around and outrun anything hostile. I had to shoot one of the mechanics once, and it just attracted a flock of these weird ass vulture things.¡± Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°Sorry, did you say ¡®culture things¡¯? What the hell¡­¡± ¡°No, *vulture*. They¡¯re like big feathery birds.¡± El corrected him. ¡°Guys.¡± James cut them off. ¡°As fun as it is to watch you figure out the lines of how little information El can give us, can we go check out the building?¡± ¡°Oh, sure. You¡¯re gonna be disappointed with what¡¯s inside though!¡± El cheerfully informed him. ¡°These fringe bits are never that cool.¡± Inside, it turned out, was¡­ well, it wasn¡¯t like El was *lying*. James was a little disappointed. But the style of disappointment was a bit different than what El might have expected. Inside was a maze of store shelves and wet floor signs. Literally. Literally a maze. It took the experienced eyes of James and Anesh exactly two and a half seconds apiece to realize that the inside was larger than the outside; a fact they¡¯d just grown to accept probably applied to more structures than it didn¡¯t. The sharp beige metal shelving units, all of them dotted with holes to slot signs or hooks into, rose up to the ceiling in most places. In the few spots where they didn¡¯t, it was clearly because climbing through the raised holes was the only way to progress. Similarly, when the signs said ¡®wet floor¡¯, they *meant it*. James was still dragging around a gallon of water in his soaked pant leg from where he¡¯d tried to step over one and misjudged the distance. Nothing ambushed them. There were no traps. Just a particularly unsafe jungle gym to roam through. Once, they heard a truck rumbling by outside, but El informed them that that just happened sometimes. There were never any other cars that made noise, just sound effects. When they reached the front counter after about twenty minutes of light exercise, and basic maze solving abilities, all there was to be found was a dusty cash register, sitting open with nothing in it, a broken glass case that probably once held cigarette, and a cork board against the back wall with half a safety notice, and a scrap of a travel brochure. ¡°I am disappointed.¡± James said, crossing his arms and staring out the plate glass window at the pair of old gas pumps between them and the road. ¡°I figured you might be.¡± El said. ¡°But hey! Scrap of a map!¡± She plucked the thumbtack off the board and held up the two inch square of travel advertisement. ¡°El¡­ we don¡¯t know what that means.¡± James tiredly shook his head. ¡°You know what bothers me most?¡± ¡°That you haven¡¯t gotten to fight a car yet?¡± El asked. ¡°No, I¡¯m fine not fighting. Though I do wish if I was going to be clambering up shelves that I¡¯d worn shorts or something. It is so hot here.¡± James wiped at his forehead. ¡°No, it¡¯s just so¡­ empty! There¡¯s nothing in here! No weird dungeon snacks or anything!¡± He looked back out the cracked window pane. ¡°Actually, this whole place seems empty. It¡¯s a bit¡­ forlorn?¡± ¡°There¡¯s always something on the horizon to get to.¡± El said quietly. ¡°But it never gets that much denser, if that¡¯s what you mean. Lots of wide open spaces.¡± ¡°Does the petrol work?¡± Anesh asked, looking under the counter for the buttons that turned on the gas pumps. He found them, and it didn¡¯t take long for him to click them into the active position. ¡°I guess we can find out.¡± ¡°Holy shit. That¡¯s why they only work sometimes.¡± El¡¯s mouth hung open as she leaned an elbow on the solid part of the counter and half slapped herself on the forehead. ¡°I¡¯m a fucking moron!¡± ¡°Have you ever worked at a gas station that wasn¡¯t remodeled after nineteen eighty?¡± James asked. ¡°Because that¡¯s the only way you¡¯d know that. I¡¯m not even sure how Anesh knows that.¡± ¡°Youtube.¡± He answered simply. ¡°So, what¡¯s the map do?¡± James asked, pointing to the scrap in El¡¯s hand. She looked at it, eyes narrowed like she was focusing. Nothing happened. ¡°Nothing, in this one.¡± El shrugged. ¡°You want it?¡± James took the offered bit of map. ¡°I¡¯m confused. Do the maps sometimes do something? Are they magic? Is this where your spells come from? Am I asking too many questions you can¡¯t answer? Is-¡° ¡°Yes.¡± El angrily burst out an answer to his last question. ¡°Thanks, jackass! God, you know I can¡¯t say anything, why are you reminding me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m kind of an idiot.¡± James admitted, apologizing. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ll try to be better.¡± He pocketed the piece of map - about ten square miles of the Yukon from the looks of it - and shrugged. ¡°So, back the way we came? On to the next place?¡± ¡°Oh, we can just go out the front door now.¡± El pointed, and sure enough, there was a painfully obvious route straight to the front door which absolutely had not been there when they¡¯d come in. ¡°Also we should gas up first.¡± She said, cleaning her throat, ¡°For reasons I cannot say.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re finding workarounds for this stupid antimeme.¡± James complimented her as El stormed out of the building. ¡°We¡¯re coming back here sometime and dismantling this entire building with a backhoe until we find this place¡¯s version of an orange orb.¡± Anesh whispered to James as they followed El back out into the sun. _____ James still wasn¡¯t clear on exactly what the magic gas did, exactly. He hoped it was a health potion for his car, though. He and Anesh had spent a good five minutes coming up with the ways different classic D&D potions could interact with a car. They¡¯d had a lot of time. And you could only stay on high alert for so long before it started to fray the nerves and dull the senses. They had a working theory on a part of this dungeon, so far. Ever since experiencing the heart of the Akashic Sewer, the Order had been attempting to figure out if that was something present in every dungeon. It wasn¡¯t a good idea to make a judgement based on just one point of data, but there was fringe evidence to support the fact that dungeons had something akin to a central vital point. Evidence like the existence of defenses; defenses that were frequently balanced out with prizes, but even then, the existence of the prizes could be a sort of evolutionary solution to getting delvers to keep a dungeon alive rather than kill it. Their working assumption was that dungeons *were*, in some way, physical. Which meant, in some way, vulnerable. Which made the different layouts, life forms, and dangers of every dungeon very interesting, because it meant that in some way, anything could be a defense of that vulnerability. This dungeon, this winding set of desert roads, had turned boredom and distance into weapons. ¡°We have been driving for four hours.¡± Anesh informed James. ¡°Is there just nothing *here*?!¡± He was laying in the back seat with an arm over his eyes, not bothering to watch the desert around them for a few minutes. ¡°There¡¯s a parking structure coming up.¡± James told him. ¡°But then, it¡¯s been coming up for the last five miles. So.¡± He trailed off, biting his lip as he steered the car one lane over, whipping past a line of traffic cones at high speed. ¡°Make any progress with the map?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I appreciate El pointing it out to us, but¡­ what the hell is it supposed to do? We know she¡¯s got spells and a mana pool, she didn¡¯t have any problem sharing *that* with us a year ago. So this has gotta be part of that, right?¡± James eased his foot onto the brakes, matching El¡¯s speed as they rolled past a speed trap that he had to assume was going to be literal in some way, before El shot away from them again. He shook his head; that girl was a little too into the acceleration her car could put out. Once they were back in the clear, he spoke again to Anesh, ¡°I remember her saying something about finding an artifact in here that upped her mana pool, so the map probably isn¡¯t that.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s a spell in some way then. Or we¡¯re wildly off base. But let¡¯s assume.¡± Anesh turned the small square over in his hands again. ¡°Is it a puzzle? Do we need to go here in the real world?¡± He hummed in thought. ¡°No, that¡¯s not how El phrased it. Ugh. I dunno.¡± He folded the paper up and awkwardly shoved it in his pocket, before rolling back to a sitting position and checking the windows around them. ¡°I don¡¯t think I like this place.¡± Anesh settled on. James was hard pressed to argue with that. This place was, more than anything else, a test of endurance, and patience. And yes, he had skill orbs for driving that made it easier to find the perfect posture, which was cool. And he had a lesson from the sewer that made that endurance test almost trivial. And *yes*, they had enough food and water for two weeks in a lunchbox in the back seat. But¡­ well. It was the patience part James was having trouble with. Officium Mundi had a similar defensive doctrine, in terms of just being huge and difficult to navigate. But in Officium Mundi, James had never once had an opportunity to be *bored*. Every corner could reveal a new world within that secret world. A new life form, a new hidden treasure, *anything* was possible. But here? He¡¯d been driving for four hours, as Anesh had pointed out *so helpfully*, and what had they actually done? He¡¯d been imagining speeding away from packs of hunter-killer motorcycles, puzzling out the warped spaces of Escher loop on ramps, and pillaging arcane mechanics for car parts that broke reality. Massive highway structures like monuments to the gods, traffic that went on forever. Instead, the map Anesh was keeping of this place showed exactly five forks in the road, and even though they were weird and in non-languages, there *were* still signs every now and then to help them find their way out. Instead, the closest thing to a highway rising toward divinity was the road they were on now having four lanes instead of two. Instead, they¡¯d pillaged a gas station, and the biggest danger was heatstroke from the duel suns overhead. Okay, the suns were cool, James would concede that much. He grabbed the two-way out of the passenger seat and radioed ahead to El. ¡°Hey!¡± He opened. ¡°Are we stopping at the parking garage obelisk coming up? Or is that another thing we avoid?¡± James was a smidge bitter; El had made them skip a roadside coffee stand, for reasons she couldn¡¯t explain but sounded serious. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got this shit figured out!¡± El¡¯s voice came back, and James had to push down a laugh that he felt might be a little mean given her current status as ¡®cursed¡¯. She¡¯d been trying all day to find ways around her language barrier. ¡°I¡¯ve got a *good feeling* about the parking structure.¡± El pronounced the words with deliberate, snarky emphasis. ¡°My mood board for parking structures includes environmental disasters in the Gulf of Mexico, pictures of birds, the police and, David Bowie¡¯s crotch. Also more stuff I haven¡¯t been able to figure out yet!¡± El sounded positively smug about that. Anesh snatched the radio out of James¡¯ hand and brought it to his mouth with an exasperated look. ¡°Neither of us know what any of that means!¡± He complained. ¡°I know what some of that means.¡± James said. Anesh hit the radio button again. ¡°Nevermind! Apparently James speaks your weird code language! See you when we stop, I guess!¡± James barked out a bout of laughter. ¡°Okay, so, some kind of problem with oil, some kind of bird thing, and ¡®the police¡¯ could mean anything, but it¡¯s probably not the band, so it probably means this dungeon¡¯s version of puppet life.¡± ¡°And the last bit?¡± ¡°The David Bowie thing? It¡¯s a reference to the movie Labyrinth. It means there¡¯s another maze in there. Which I¡¯m guessing is every building here.¡± James thought about it for a second as they approached the building that was looking taller and taller by the minute. The parking structure was easily twenty stories tall, all cold grey concrete and harsh lines. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m wondering if El could just say ¡®labyrinth¡¯, since that¡¯s not an accurate description of the things.¡± ¡°They¡¯re mazes.¡± Anesh nodded. James smiled at him. ¡°Exactly. So, is the memeplex here based on your own perception of what you¡¯re giving away, or is it just censoring keywords?¡± ¡°I mean, she¡¯s giving us a ¡®mood board¡¯, whatever that is. So I¡¯m guessing the keyword thing.¡± Anesh shrugged, stretching his legs out in the back seat and getting ready to jump out of the car when they parked. ¡°Wonder if we can just use a substitution cypher to get around it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an art thing.¡± James said. Then, as Anesh raised eyebrows at him, he followed up, ¡°A mood board. It¡¯s¡­ like, a bunch of stuff that¡¯s meant to give you a vibe for a project. You know that thing you do for our D&D games where you send everyone a playlist to listen to during character creation? It¡¯s that.¡± ¡°Oh! Fun.¡± Anesh gave a small nod out the side window. ¡°Looks like El¡¯s stopped in the middle of the road.¡± He noted. ¡°Are we¡­ no, of course we¡¯re not parking in the parking garage. Obviously. What am I saying.¡± He shook his head to himself, not even really complaining to James. They stopped again, and hopped out, taking a minute to reattach gear and weapons to their belts and armor rigging. James noted a couple of those little mobile speed bumps on the right side of the asphalt surrounding the parking structure like a pool of smooth black in the middle of the sand, but the creatures weren¡¯t homing in on them, so he kept an eye open and didn¡¯t antagonize the little monsters. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± He asked El. They were just stopped in the middle of the oncoming lane. There were a few curved paths that led into the lot surrounding the massive structure, but they hadn¡¯t taken any of them. ¡°Well, we¡¯re gonna need to sneak in.¡± She said. In sharp contrast to the boys, El was mostly unarmed. She had a knife up her sleeve, and a can of spray paint overfilling her jacket pocket, and that was about it. ¡°You know how banks have security on the front door?¡± She asked pointedly. ¡°Okay, I feel like you¡¯re gonna get really good at metaphor by the time this is over.¡± James snorted a laughing breath at her words. ¡°So, up the side, climb in the second floor gap?¡± ¡°Yup!¡± El cheerfully commented. ¡°I brought a grappling hook!¡± ¡°Okay, I¡¯m a little envious.¡± James hadn¡¯t stopped grinning. *This* was more his speed for dungeon delving. On foot, and slow, and *fun*. They circled around the left side of the building, saying out of view of the shaded ramp leading to the interior. It took two tries for El to hook the grapple that she¡¯d clearly bought off the internet onto a stable perch, and three minutes for the trio to climb it using the concrete wall of the parking structure to brace against. ¡°Now *this*,¡± James was grinning wildly as they stood up on the second floor of the garage, ¡°*this* is what I¡¯m here for.¡± It looked like a scene from a post apocalypse movie. Cars had been thrown against each other, covering the space like a mechanical barricade. Only it wasn¡¯t just across the aisles; cars were parked in some of the spaces as well, only stacked two or three vehicles high. There were places, Anesh quickly spotted, where the obstacles weren¡¯t even entire cars. Just a windshield, or a single door, unconnected to any frame. It was the perfect cluttered puzzle; offering just enough information to frustrate without any indication of where you were supposed to *go*. Except they already knew where they were going. Up. The alcove they¡¯d landed in was one of several against the outer wall, and El quickly ducked down as they heard a rattling noise from around a corner. James and Anesh followed her lead, and moved forward in a low walk to peek through a gap in the press of machinery. ¡°Okay.¡± El whispered to them, winding up the rope for the grapple she¡¯d retrieved. ¡°The ramp up is over there.¡± She pointed. ¡°I think we can get there through the floor; it¡¯s not cluttered over here that bad. Or we could just climb up and slip through the pipes. But something might see us.¡± ¡°I¡¯m good being sneaky for as long as we can.¡± James was still feeling excited as he took in the maze of metal and glass. ¡°Have you been here before?¡± He asked. ¡°Not in this one.¡± El said. ¡°They change a lot. Also, watch out for anything with the hood popped.¡± She added as she slipped forward into the gap between half a sedan and the sideways bed of a pickup truck. ¡°Why, will they try to eat me?¡± James asked. El said nothing. After a beat, he added, ¡°Or do they explode?¡± ¡°I cannot say.¡± El said, answering that question. ¡°Great. It wouldn¡¯t be a dungeon without something normal that exploded.¡± Anesh muttered, bringing up the rear. They kept moving, sneaking through the press of stacked car pieces and concrete pylons. Pausing every time they heard a noise nearby. El insisted, in the limited language she was building as they went, that there were creatures in here, and they were absolutely hostile most of the time. So they tried to keep quiet as best they could. It was just before they reached the ramp up to the third level that they ran into a little trouble. There was a clearing in the area ahead of them, a small ring of open space maybe twenty feet across. James spotted it through a tinted windshield that formed a wall at head level as they crouch-walked under an upside down Prius. A quick double check showed that it was where they¡¯d be turning into in a minute if they kept going. But in the middle of that open ring was a battered concrete pillar, yellow paint flaked off in scraps that littered the ground around it. And on top of that pylon sat something both weird and familiar all at once. It had matted and filthy black feathers and a puffed out chest that was larger than you¡¯d see on all but the largest natural birds. Claws of steel cable cut into the concrete below it, grinding away at the rock and leaving pockmarks around the top of the things perch. It looked like an overly large vulture, only with a few tweaks to its anatomy. Like the fact that in place of a normal vulture¡¯s face, it had the boxy metal and glass of an old model security camera. ¡°Well *that¡¯s* something you see everyday.¡± James quipped. The bird¡¯s view rotated as it twisted its head back and forth. It hadn¡¯t heard them, but it was still keeping an eye on the main path up the stairs. ¡°We should circle back and climb the pipes.¡± Anesh suggested. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± El waved him off. ¡°They can hear, but only barely. If we blind it, it won¡¯t react, and we can just slip past.¡± She¡¯d pulled the can of spray paint out of her pocket and was shaking it with a rattling ¡®clack clack¡¯. ¡°That¡¯s the most comprehensive answer you¡¯ve given all day!¡± ¡°Yeah, I think the bullshit turns off when there¡¯s something nearby that might kill us.¡± El looked at the low gap she¡¯d have to slide through. ¡°Can one of you watch from the glass back there and tell me when it¡¯s facing away?¡± ¡°On it.¡± Anesh slid backward. ¡°Wait, go back to the pressing danger?¡± James asked, but was ignored by the other two. ¡°Three, two¡­¡± Anesh counted down, holding up fingers for El to watch. ¡°Go!¡± He whispered loudly at her. El darted forward, James following closely and Anesh moving behind them. She didn¡¯t hesitate to rush the concrete pillar in the middle of the open space, and with an almost casual motion, reached around at an angle and blasted pink spray paint into the ¡®eye¡¯ of the vulture perched there. James had been tensed for a fight. He¡¯d preemptively set his bracer¡¯s block target to ¡®bird claws¡¯, the closest he could get to just saying ¡®birds¡¯, and his hand was on the hilt of the sword on his belt. But El hadn¡¯t been kidding about the lack of reaction. As she pulled back and the creature¡¯s sweeping gaze passed back and forth over them, it¡¯s vision completely blotted out, it didn¡¯t even twitch except to rustle its wings a bit. He wanted to say something, either about how that was insane, or disappointingly easy, or something. But then he remembered they were still mere feet away from something that could easily cause some serious problems if it heard them, so he kept his mouth shut as they moved on. The third floor was more maze-like. The biggest threat was sharp edges, and that wasn¡¯t meant to discount just how sharp some of the edges got. The fourth floor had the first car that threatened to detonate on them. James spotted it ahead of them, something about it giving him a bad feeling, and they took the path of climbing over the stacked cars rather than pass by it. Up close to the ceiling, pressed against the roof of a truck as they slithered toward the lines of piles that separated them from the ramp up, James could see cobwebs and grimy oil stains, and he wondered how both of them had gotten there. On the fifth floor, the top of the ramp was blocked by an RV that could never have actually fit inside the structure, no matter how much bigger it was on the inside. They had options to get around it, but the increasingly loud metallic scratching sound pushed them to duck inside the camper, waiting for whatever was patrolling around to pass. While they were there, James took the opportunity to peek into the cupboards, turning up a bag of open potato chips that looked like oil spills made solid, and also half a page out of an atlas, showing the top half of the city of Johannesburg. ¡°More map stuff.¡± He said to El. ¡°This one isn¡¯t giving me magic either.¡± James joked. ¡°Hang onto it. I¡¯ve got some reference material at home.¡± She cryptically responded. ¡°Also I hate this mind magic bullshit. I dunno if I¡¯ve said this a lot, but until you guys showed up, I never had to deal with this crap.¡± ¡°Wait, *us*?!¡± Anesh demanded. ¡°What did we do?!¡± ¡°Well, probably nothing.¡° El conceded, ear pressed against the door to the camper as the noise outside receded. ¡°But I didn¡¯t notice until now. So fuck ya¡¯ll, I guess.¡± They¡¯d moved on after that, deciding collectively to argue about who¡¯s fault everything was later. The sixth floor had almost no obstacles at all. In fact, it looked like a normal human parking garage, with a handful of scattered cars taking up parking spaces, and nothing else. It also had a light on in a small security office, a sharp white glow coming through the windows. They¡¯d spotted it next to the doors to an elevator as they turned the corner from the ramp up. No one brought up the elevator; every one of them so suspicious of any convenience in a dungeon that they already had a gut instinct to avoid it. There was something in the office. El made it as explicit as she could that it was something hostile, but slow. But also, that getting into the office would be a good idea. ¡°Okay, so, it¡¯s security, right?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°I¡¯ll circle around the other side, set off a car alarm, and you two slip in.¡± So James and El crouched down behind the hood of a boxy brown delivery van, watching the door to the office while Anesh crept away. A minute later, the whooping siren of a car that had just been kicked in the front bumper rang out, echoing painfully loud against the naked concrete around them. Instantly, the thing in the office moved, and as it scuttled out from the room, James¡¯ heart leapt into his throat and he hoped Anesh had found a *really* good hiding spot. It was four thick metal limbs, like girders with joints in them, jutting out from a body that was suspended a few feet over the ground and looked like a ball of black and silver gears, all turning and grinding against each other with every step. The legs went up from its form at forty five degrees, before sharply angling downward to where they met the ground with a trio of dull spikes. On the sides of its legs, exposed gears and belts connected to its main body held up thick wheels, which it could presumably use if it were to flatten itself to the ground. Wires trailing spark plugs dangled beneath it¡¯s main body, rattling against each other with an electric hiss of cracked casings. It was, James realized with an uncomfortable gulp, wearing a shredded blue jacket and hard billed cap, in a mockery of a uniform. With jerky motions and the echoing noise of metal striking smooth concrete over and over, it darted around the corner, climbing *over* one of the parked cars with a grinding screech as it hunted after the car alarm still blaring. James and El sprinted for the office door as soon as it was gone. It was a running joke with James at this point that he¡¯d given up being surprised a long time ago. But he was still a little caught off guard when the monstrous thing¡¯s office was just¡­ normal? A desk, a coat rack, a monitor for watching security cameras. This could have been in a regular parking garage anywhere on Earth. The only thing that stood out was the simple iron gear, hovering five feet off the ground and humming like a well tuned engine, just at the back of the room. El grabbed it, while James swept the desk and snagged a copy of ¡°Big World Travel Magazine¡± with most of its pages removed. And then, as the gear¡¯s humming snapped to nothing, they turned and bolted back out of the room. They met Anesh as he was rounding the corner, legs pumping as he dashed toward them. ¡°Run!¡± He shouted, and James knew then that his hiding spot hadn¡¯t been good enough. James didn¡¯t run. He slid into a shooter¡¯s stance, brought his little bullpup rifle up, and flicked the safety off as Anesh saw what he was doing and turned his run into a sliding roll out of James¡¯ line of fire that landed him next to his partner. When the sentry rounded the corner behind him, momentum coming to a complete halt to manually turn toward them, he sent a swarm of bullets downrange with a series of metallic ¡®tang¡¯ noises with every shot. Sparks flew from the gears of the creature¡¯s body and the metal of its legs. And the high velocity impacts didn¡¯t seem to do more than annoy it. ¡°Okay, run!¡± James yelled, grabbing Anesh¡¯s arm and hauling him up. El, being smarter than either of them in this once case, had already booked it down the ramp. As James and Anesh awkwardly tried to sprint at a downward angle and the sentry thundered its way toward them, El waved from a gap in the cars below them. ¡°This way!¡± She yelled, turning around and vanishing between the bumpers of a couple cars that weren¡¯t quite fully pressed together. James and Anesh had to squeeze a bit more than she did, with the armor they were wearing, but the thing closing in on them was a good motivation to move quickly. When they got through, it was into one of those alcoves they¡¯d initially landed in, and El had wedged the hook of her grapple as best she could into the front bumper of a pickup truck. ¡°Go!¡± James yelled at her, as if she needed the encouragement. El was already rolling over the edge of the concrete, hands on the rope as she let herself slide down in a barely arrested fall. James shoved Anesh forward and helped his partner make the hop to the ledge before he also vanished out of sight. Pulling himself up the concrete barrier, not thinking about how close the thing chasing them might be, and *especially* not thinking about how much rope El had actually brought, James thanked every ounce of experience that had led to him being here with gloves on, and let himself fall. The rope made a buzzing noise against his gloves as he held onto it. And then, suddenly, there was no more rope, and he fell the last story to slam into the hard pavement. El was there, yelling something and helping him and Anesh up, and with stumbling, painful steps, James found himself running for his car, his head reeling from the impact. Behind them, the sentry slammed into the ground in a brutal mess of metal shrapnel. And as James fumbled to start his engine, he saw the broken thing on the pavement in the shade of the parking structure stand up anyway, and begin taking stumbling steps toward them. He made sure Anesh was alive in the back seat, before slamming on the gas, and getting them out of there. Taking the lead this time, as by mutual silent agreement, the two of them and El decided that was enough dungeon delving for the day. After a few miles, James felt the adrenaline wearing off. His legs started hurting with a dull throbbing pain, and he started to worry that he¡¯d broken something in the fall. A part of him, as they headed back to the breach to reality, felt a little cheated. Five hours, and more still to go to actually leave this place, and what did they have to show for it? A few pieces of maps that might be magic, a weird humming gear, and a more bruises than they¡¯d started? He could see why this dungeon¡¯s defense worked; he wasn¡¯t feeling particularly motivated to come back. But then again¡­ Dotted around this place, there were mazes and monsters, and the kind of adventure that he lived for. And James found himself smiling without thinking about it. He would have come out here and helped El out no matter what, offer of the dungeon or no. But as long as it was *right there*... Well, maybe he¡¯d find the time to see what was down just one more road. ¡°I think I need new bones.¡± Anesh groaned from the back seat. Okay, one more road, *next time*, and with a little less recklessness. Maybe. Chapter 151 "Life is what happens to you while you''re busy making other plans." - John Lennon - _____ Reality was still dark as they drove out into it, despite having spent well over twelve hours in the dungeon. Once again, they parked by the side of the road, this time after James narrowly avoided hitting an innocent skunk. The three of them stretching out after the long trip, James and Anesh stripping off armor plates they¡¯d been wearing for a full day of car travel. ¡°I know I said I liked road trips at the start of this.¡± James informed his boyfriend. ¡°I have decided, in retrospect, that I lied. My legs are sore, and I¡¯m not supposed to *be* sore anymore!¡± ¡°Okay, so, what exactly does your point in endurance *do*?¡± Anesh glowered at his partner. ¡°Because I feel like even you don¡¯t actually know.¡± James sheepishly grinned as he sat on the edge of the driver¡¯s seat and shook sand and pebbles out of his boot. ¡°Guilty.¡± He admitted. ¡°Though, I¡¯m pretty sure that whatever it¡¯s doing, it¡¯s having some kind of amplificitve effect with some of the purple upgrades I have. Like¡­ okay, I clot faster, right? But ever since getting endurance, I clot almost *instantly*. I don¡¯t think I can actually bleed out, it¡¯s kinda rad.¡± James slid his boot back on, oblivious to the narrow eyed frown Anesh was giving him. ¡°Amplificitive is¡­ were you trying to say multiplicative? Or amplifying?¡± ¡°Yes. And I got confused midway through.¡± Anesh snorted. ¡°I love it when you¡¯re self aware.¡± He said. ¡°Hey.¡± He greeted El as she got out of her own car and strutted over. ¡°So, what now?¡± ¡°Now, we go home and sleep!¡± She declared, stifling a yawn that quickly turned contagious. ¡°I¡¯m tired. You¡¯re tired. The cars are tired. And I feel odd so I wanna nap it off.¡± ¡°Cars don¡¯t get¡­¡± El ignored James. ¡°So hey, before we go, touch this with me.¡± She held out the strange humming gear from earlier. ¡°I figure¡­ I guess I figure that we should share it now. So I¡¯m not tempted later, you know?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James shrugged and reached out to settle his fingers against the surface of the gear. Next to him, Anesh did the same. It was thick metal, not marred by rust or burrs, but it still felt *old*. ¡°What are we supposed to do?¡± James asked. El made a half shrug as she held the gear by its center with her other arm extended. ¡°Just think about, um, moving?¡± The girl kicked the ground like an angry child. ¡°Fuck, man, I dunno. You¡¯re the one who¡¯s good with words. It¡¯s magic. Eat it with your mind or some shit.¡± ¡°Eloquent.¡± James snarked, but smothered the grin when he saw that El really was kind of self conscious about this. ¡°Okay.¡± He focused on moving. On the feeling of going forward. He let his brain adapt to the vibration of the gear; it was the hum of the road, he realized, so James fell into that vibe. He and Anesh didn¡¯t need to be hooked up to each other for their minds to go to the same place on this; they¡¯d had a lot of experience putting themselves in mindsets needed to exploit dungeon goodies. A second later, the gear was gone. Their hands were stretched out touching nothing but a ripple of motion, quickly fading away. This time, there were no words. Not in the same way as the Office or the Sewer. Instead, there was a feeling in his chest, of a space where motion could go, if it needed to. Where momentum could be stockpiled for the future need. It wasn¡¯t exactly a mana pool, as James understood it. But he *could* clearly feel what it did, if not what it was for. He could also feel how much it could hold. Three. It could hold three. Three what? Unclear. Three something. Three units of velocity, he supposed. And he could already feel it ticking up. If James focused, *really* focused, slipped down into the kind of dream meditation he¡¯d begun learning back at the start, then he could see it ticking up as he moved. Fractions of fractions of fractions. If it made it to a whole number, it would be so much easier to feel the increment, James instinctively knew. But for now, it was just sitting there. Zero of three. Waiting to be filled up and used for some magic he hadn¡¯t found yet. He opened his eyes. ¡°Neat!¡± He proclaimed. ¡°What¡¯s it *do*?¡± ¡°It¡¯s fuel.¡± El shrugged. ¡°Obviously. Can¡¯t explain much, though you know what all my spells are. That said, completely unrelated, hang onto the map scraps. I¡¯ve got a shoebox full of them under my bed, we can compare them later.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Anesh asked. Then paused. ¡°You know what? Nevermind. Let¡¯s preserve the surprise. And also your sanity.¡± He noted, as El practically growled at the thing limiting her answers. She nodded at him. ¡°Thanks.¡± The word sounded sarcastic, but there was a look of real gratitude in her eyes. ¡°So yeah. Meet up tomorrow. I¡¯m gonna go sleep. Ya¡¯ll take care.¡± She waved them off as she stalked back to her own car. But before she shut the door, James had one last question for her. ¡°Hey! How much velocity do you have?¡± He called over. ¡°Twenty nine!¡± El yelled back. And then, slamming her door shut, she kicked the car out of idle and executed a trecherous looking U-turn to accelerate down the freeway back toward her home town. ¡°I have a problem with that.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Yeah. Twenty nine?¡± ¡°Run the numbers for me, I¡¯m tired.¡± ¡°Assuming it was a split of the artifact¡¯s magic that we just did, that one gear was worth nine-ish points, right?¡± Anesh posited, and James nodded along. ¡°Okay. So, how long did El know about this place? A year? And the door isn¡¯t time locked. She has gotten four of those cogs, counting this one. She has *three spells*. But she seemed to know how the parking structures worked pretty closely.¡± ¡°Oh fuck.¡± James grimaced. ¡°Tell me something about the road.¡± Anesh prompted. ¡°The convenience stores have a one way exit. Not a good test. Let me call¡­um¡­¡± James stared at his phone. ¡°Let¡¯s test this tomorrow.¡± ¡°But you can feel it. There¡¯s no infomorph there. There¡¯s no urge to keep it secret. It¡¯s just on El. Which means she picked it up on a delve.¡± Anesh shook his head, staring down the dark road that El had left by. ¡°She¡¯s too comfortable here.¡± ¡°She¡¯s been doing this longer than she knows.¡± James surmised. ¡°Or, no. That¡¯s not right. She knows how long she¡¯s been doing this. She just isn¡¯t seeing it. Anesh, she *knew she could split the velocity gear with us*.¡± ¡°Threes.¡± Anesh stated. ¡°The¡­ mana amount?¡± Anesh rolled his eyes. ¡°No, threes. It¡¯s a thing the dungeons like. Groups of three. You, me, Alanna. The three kids at the school. Even now, we have rotations of three people hanging out in the attic, we delve the Sewer with three person teams. Why? We¡¯ve broken the habit in the Office, but-¡° ¡°But that¡¯s not normal. We¡¯re doing something *different*.¡± James jumped in. ¡°And now here¡¯s El. El, who was *already* paranoid when Alanna and I came through here the first time. El, who knows the dungeon so well, but can¡¯t talk about it. El¡­¡± ¡°Who¡¯s the last one left.¡± Anesh finished. ¡°El, who survived her friends.¡± ¡°And forgot.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s kill this one.¡± Anesh suggested. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna lie, I had that thought?¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°You do know we don¡¯t actually have a nuke, right? Nate did talk me out of that. And this place is¡­ larrrrrrrge.¡± ¡°We could tear up the road here. Get rid of the entrance.¡± Anesh suggested. James shook his head, staring at the dark trees around them as he sagged down to lean his elbows on his knees. ¡°We don¡¯t know what that¡¯ll do. And¡­ this is gonna sound bad, but I don¡¯t think that would be fair.¡± He sighed. ¡°We haven¡¯t tried to kill the Office, or even the Sewer, and they¡¯ve killed a lot more people that we¡¯re directly aware of. Just given how hard this place is to find, how out of the way it is¡­ I doubt it gets a lot of visitors at all. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if I had a higher body count than it does.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like this.¡± Anesh muttered after circling around the car and dropping into the passenger seat. He sat and stared out the window, at the line where the dungeon started, blinking rapidly as another car flew past, high beams blinding in the early morning darkness. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be the ones that keep people safe from things like this.¡± ¡°Are we?¡± James asked, half focusing as he punched in their motel on his phone¡¯s map app, and waited while the thin service out here took its time to give him a route. ¡°I thought we were¡­ what are we?¡± He mused to himself, pulling back onto the freeway in the tailwind of a logging truck. ¡°Presumably we¡¯re the goodies.¡± Anesh offered. ¡°There¡¯s lots of ways to be good. Sometimes I worry we¡¯re not doing enough. Other times, I think we¡¯re doing too much, too fast.¡± James countered as they drove. ¡°I¡¯ve thought a lot about individual goals, since this started. But never ¡®what are we¡¯, if that makes sense. Like, remember the first couple months?¡± Anesh shot a toothy smile out the window. ¡°Ha! We couldn¡¯t even decide if we were going into the dungeon every week.¡± He thought for a second about it. ¡°And yeah, I guess I see what you mean. We were just trying to get on top of rent, or out from under student debt. Having fun without any responsibility. Even after Alanna got in on it with us, we already knew we were going to do something *eventually*, but it was far off and we were¡­ I mean, I was¡­ having fun.¡± He trailed off, sounding guilty. ¡°I was having fun too.¡± James said. ¡°Don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything wrong with that. And now, we¡¯re¡­ what? I mean, we do good things, but how do we define *ourselves*? Not just the Order, but us. Am I a bad person because I don¡¯t want to kill the dungeons?¡± He asked, a pleading note in his voice. Anesh didn¡¯t give an answer right away, and so James continued. ¡°I like to think I¡¯m helping to build better systems, but I don¡¯t have a fucking clue what I¡¯m doing. So I just sort of recklessly help people that I can, and then those people do the useful things.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fair, I mean¡­¡± Anesh stopped, and furrowed his brow. Turned and looked over at James by leaning his left arm on the center console and cupping his fingers around his chin. ¡°Wait, no, that *is* fair. That¡¯s¡­ weird.¡± James looked like he wanted to say something, so Anesh waited, but his partner just kept opening and closing his mouth, like he couldn¡¯t find the words. Face scrunched up, eyes narrowed, staring ahead at the road as they took the exit toward where they were staying. They drove in silence for a few minutes, the car dutifully humming away as they climbed up and around the last hill before the small town¡¯s outskirts started. It was maybe 2:30 in the morning when James stopped the car on the shoulder of that hillside road. Time dilation in the dungeon had flagrantly messed with their sense of time; twelve hours in ten minutes or so was a much larger gap than the Office usually gave. He still hadn¡¯t said anything, and Anesh was starting to get worried when he pulled the car over and parked by a dented metal guardrail. With tired movements, James popped his door open, and stepped back out into the night. Anesh worriedly followed him over to the guardrail, where James was leaning on one of the wooden posts, staring out from their vantage point. ¡°Hey?¡± Anesh reached out a hand to James¡¯ arm, ignoring the grime and sweat from a half day adventure in body armor to give what comfort he could. James didn¡¯t flinch back from the gesture, instead leaning into Anesh a little bit. The two of them sat there for a good five minutes or so, Anesh watching James with concern, James staring down at the twinkling lights of a Tennessee small town. A handful of suburban neighborhoods, visible by lines of pale orange streetlights strung through the trees. Bright white patches of strip mall parking lots, dark splotches of parks and wilderness that still hadn¡¯t been built into by the small town determined to stay small. Reds and greens of traffic intersections. And all of it on a wobbly street grid where the outlines were occasionally visible through the motions of a few scattered cars, their headlights and turn signals lighting the channels of a city. ¡°Can I tell you something I¡¯m afraid of?¡± James whispered to Anesh, standing there in the dark, over the dome of the city¡¯s glow. Anesh hesitated, but only for a second. ¡°If you¡¯re comfortable with that.¡± He said. James snorted. Of course he wasn¡¯t. That was the problem. But still. ¡°I think I might actually believe in fate, as a concept.¡± He said. ¡°Or something like it. There are currents, around the dungeons. Things we¡¯ve seen, things we know, that we can¡¯t ignore. The three person team is part of that. But there¡¯s more to it. The organization. Did you know what we found in the old Status Quo files? The administrator was like me.¡± He said it quietly, and didn¡¯t falter, but the recognition of that truth hurt him almost physically. ¡°He started the organization with two others. One of them was dead before we got there. One of them was dead after.¡± James pressed himself into Anesh¡¯s side, not looking at his partner. ¡°We¡¯re not new, not special. It¡¯s all patterns.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have to be new to be good.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Also, you¡¯re doing that storyteller thing you do, where you¡¯re mapping narrative onto reality.¡± He looked down at the city, taking his eyes off James for a minute. ¡°Sometime in history - don¡¯t give me that look, I only memorize numbers that do things, not years - sometime in history, a man named Hardy went to visit his friend, Srinivasa Ramanujan. He took a taxi, and because this happened before smartphones existed, he spent most of his ride reading everything in the interior of the cab. When he got to his friend, he remarked that he had decided that the taxi¡¯s number was the most boring number ever invented, since he¡¯d had to read it on practically every surface, and it offended him greatly.¡± ¡°I cannot imagine being the kind of person who is mad at a number.¡± James said. ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re not a bored mathematician in the 1900¡¯s. Shut up, I¡¯m going somewhere with this.¡± Anesh countered. ¡°Anyway. Ramanujan asks what the number was, and Hardy tells him it was 1729. ¡®Oh,¡¯ he says, ¡®that¡¯s not a boring number at all.¡¯¡± Anesh looked over at James. ¡°It¡¯s the smallest number that can be expressed as the sum of two cubed whole numbers, in two separate ways. One and twelve, and nine and ten. The next number like it is a lot bigger.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the point of this math story?¡± James asked. Not in a mean way, but curious where Anesh was taking this. ¡°There are always coincidences. No matter how big the world is, sometimes, your easily annoyed friend rides in a taxi with a number that you know off the top of your head is a piece of weird math trivia because you spend your life thinking about weird number patterns. The thing about reality, and yes, I know how stupid this sounds in the context of our lives! But the thing about reality, is that things don¡¯t have to make sense. Things are weird. And maybe there are patterns, but that doesn¡¯t make us trapped by fate. It just makes us part of the cosmic coincidence.¡± ¡°I just worry that we¡¯re going to be stuck in this cycle, until someone like us comes along and breaks what we¡¯ve built.¡± James admitted softly. ¡°That we¡¯re trapped as the progatonists until we die or lose.¡± Below them, the city lights sparkled. A car passed by behind. And Anesh said, ¡°Someone was always going to try. That¡¯s not a coincidence, that¡¯s because you want to change things. But that doesn¡¯t mean we have to lose.¡± ¡°I can see the future.¡± James said in a voice that sounded like he was admitting to something, despite how silly the words were. ¡°Not in a magic way. Just like someone who feels the way things are going.¡± In the distance, a truck added its roar to the yipping calls of coyotes in the trees. ¡°We¡¯re going to bring in more people. We¡¯re going to uncover more power, more magic. We¡¯re going to build something truly awesome. A city, a community, something the modern world would call a nation and be wrong about. Something beautiful and new, even if only just to try something different. And at some point, someone is going to get afraid of us. Maybe in a small way at first; they won¡¯t just try to have us murdered. But we¡¯re going to upset things, and people are going to fight back. So they can keep their wealth, their control, their positions in society. And when they don¡¯t stop us, people with more guns and less empathy are going to notice. And then¡­ well. Then I can¡¯t see any farther. I can¡¯t see to where we win, and we build great works and solve great problems. I can¡¯t see past the problems to the world where we have swappable bodies and spaceships and teleporters for everyone. But I worry. I worry for the world, and I worry for you, and I worry for myself. Because I *don¡¯t want to die*, and I don¡¯t want our story to end.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t know what to say. Part of him wanted to say that James couldn¡¯t know any of that was true, but it was the future *he* saw too. Part of him wanted to say it would all be okay, but he couldn¡¯t know that. So instead, he did what *James* did. He cleared his throat, and spoke. ¡°Well, Sarah¡¯s the real protagonist and we all know it. So even if we die, it should be fine.¡± ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s up with that?¡± James asked, before breaking into a grin and laughing. His laugh trailed off, and he turned to surprise Anesh with a kiss on the cheek. ¡°Thanks.¡± He said. ¡°I know I get like this a lot, but¡­ thanks.¡± ¡°No problem. Now let¡¯s go back and sleep. I look forward to more prophetically dire dreams.¡± Anesh said. ¡°*Not* because of fate, but because that would be a funny coincidence! Also cause it feels weird out here tonight.¡± He leveled a finger at James as he pushed off the guard rail and headed back toward the car. ¡°Yeah, okay. I¡¯ll accept that *once*.¡± James conceded. ¡°Also that¡¯s just how this state feels, I think? It¡¯s weird.¡± He added as he followed. _____ ¡°Hey man.¡± Harvey stood by Reed¡¯s clutter fortress that most people called a ¡®desk¡¯. He looked less tired than Reed remembered; a lot sturdier, too. But then, Reed hadn¡¯t really interacted with the leader of the Response program much, aside from going through the mandatory training classes to fully join up. ¡°You got a second?¡± ¡°Yeah. Yeah! How¡¯s it going?¡± Reed set down the folded stack of Status Quo reports that he was currently working on typing into their database. ¡°You¡¯re looking less tired.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Busy.¡± Harvey answered. ¡°And I¡¯d love to chat, but I gotta thing to get to. Can you move the mech?¡± ¡°What?¡± Reed blinked. Harvey tapped one foot, showing a little impatience, but keeping his voice steady. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be using the fourth basement for a training exercise. But James and Momo left their warbot sitting in the middle of the floor, with a fuckin¡¯ thousand unlabeled magic things all over the place.¡± He said, with some annoyance. ¡°I¡¯m just wondering if you can move the mech.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I cannot.¡± Reed stated. ¡°I don¡¯t really know how. And our hypnotist is staying with family for a few days. Also James hasn¡¯t manufactured any more LSD lately.¡± Harvey folded his arms and stared at Reed, and suddenly, he looked like all the exhaustion he¡¯d been covering up, all at once. An exasperated frown cutting a thin line through his salt and pepper goatee. ¡°Man, I¡¯m mad that I understood all of that.¡± He said. ¡°Also what the hell are we supposed to do now?¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t response *have* a basement?¡± Reed asked. ¡°Use that basement.¡± ¡°Our basement is for dispatch, equipment, a rec space for on call responders, and the telepad platforms.¡± Harvey stated. ¡°It is not for training.¡± ¡°We should rent you a building for that.¡± Reed suggested. Harvey shook his head. ¡°Bad idea. We¡¯re already getting noticed by police and civilians. And a lot of people don¡¯t like what we¡¯re doing. There¡¯s pushback; light now, but it¡¯ll get worse, mark my words. Best not to have a building that isn¡¯t cloaked.¡± ¡°Mark my words¡­?¡± Reed mouthed silently, shaking his head. ¡°Well, alright. How *is* Reponse going, aside from that?¡± He asked. ¡°I really don¡¯t have time to chat.¡± Harvey said, checking his phone as it buzzed again. ¡°We¡¯ll work around the mech. Unless that¡¯s a problem?¡± He asked, glancing up at the younger man slumped over the desk in front of him. ¡°Yeah, should be fine.¡± Reed waved his concerns away. ¡°The thing¡¯s mostly just asphalt, really. It¡¯s not alive or explosive.¡± ¡°Neither of those were¡­ ah whatever.¡± Harvey let it drop. ¡°You have a good one.¡± He said, turning to head back to the elevator. ¡°You too.¡± Reed idly muttered, mind already wandering to a dozen other projects he was supposed to be working on or vetting. And then, off to whatever he could do to assist Response. Or, more accurately, to help Harvey with his public image problem. The main problem with Response, Reed decided, was that to anyone who didn¡¯t fully get what they were, they probably looked pretty scary. An outside observer was going to see an untrained militia with the power to teleport into private or secure places, essentially appointing themselves to an unelected, unaccountable, position of authority. And that¡­ wasn¡¯t entirely inaccurate, to be fair. Though they certainly weren¡¯t untrained, and Response teams were unarmed more often than not which probably took them out of the ¡®dangerous militia¡¯ category. But the teleporting was a concern. A lot of magic was a concern, in a world that didn¡¯t have defenses against it. The real public image problem, Reed decided, was that people didn¡¯t have an easy way to know that Response was legitimately there to help. Or to have a fallback of reporting any actual problems with Response members. Reed was halfway through sketching a design for a website for them when he realized this may be something he¡¯d need to seek approval for. Learning from past mistakes, both his own and Research as a whole, Reed dialed it back a bit, outlined a plan, and made a note to talk to Karen and Harvey when they had time. Then he had a brilliant idea, completely forgot to stop being reckless, and made a note for the next Office delve to duplicate as many of the laser pointers that broadcast emotion as possible. Before that idea had even settled, Reed was writing up a proposal for creating some kind of public face infomorph to automagically propagate accurate information. By the time he¡¯d realized that was probably going to end badly, he was half an hour late to check up on Nikhail. Reed sheepishly closed his laptop, a score of half baked ideas folded up in a technological blanket. He¡¯d come back to this later, maybe when Harvey had some extra time. For now, he needed to go make sure Nik hadn¡¯t turned into some kind of human-wasp hybrid or started irradiating his surroundings or some other bizarre fate. Though as far as anyone could tell, Nik was fine. He also wasn¡¯t alone. There absolutely was a non-physical life living within him, in some way. According to Planner, who Reed had scheduled some time with to get a second opinion, it wasn¡¯t the same as an Office infomorph. A different texture, a different function. It was very likely this was a larval form of the Authorities that Status Quo had used. But how Nik could communicate with it, what it could do, or even what or if it wanted anything was still unclear. At this point, all Reed could really do was offer support and update Research¡¯s spotty taxonomic map of weird things. It wasn¡¯t much. Sometimes it felt like most of what Reed did running this basement wasn¡¯t much. And yet. Over time, they¡¯d accomplished a lot he was happy with. Scars or no, they¡¯d gotten some cool results. If only any part of the dungeon magics would help him just focus on something for more than five minutes. Maybe he¡¯d have remembered to move the mech. ____ ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡± Elizebeth timidly asked as their group took a water and rest break. She, Morgan, and Color-Of-Dawn had been grouped up with Chevoy, the older engineer supposedly supposed to keep the kids from getting into too much trouble as they spent what was turning into several long days combing over the parks and hiking trails around Alice Springs. It seemed, to the two teenagers, like a bald faced attempt to get them to do the ¡®safe¡¯ part of the search that was also, unfortunately, a lot of exercise. Chevoy seemed entirely unconcerned with the number of miles they had to move. But then, she¡¯d had about a month of prior notice and access to the Order¡¯s surplus of exercise potions. Also she was using her skulljack to pilot at least two drones around and also playing Tetris Attack on her phone, which left her less focused on how much her legs ached. By contrast, Color-Of-Dawn didn¡¯t seem to overheat, or get tired. Or, if it did, it didn¡¯t *say* anything about it. Possibly just so as to not make Morgan more exhausted. Color-Of-Dawn was still uncertain what their friendship¡­ was, really. And so a lot of their actions played it safe. The problem was, while it was a beautiful place, the mountainous regions around Alice were mostly covered in scrub brush and rocks. And while they had reasonable confidence there was a dungeon in the area, specifically the area in the hills east of the city, there were a *lot* of hills east of the city. And walking through them was kind of boring. So, while Chevoy perched like some kind of conquering explorer on the edge of a rock outcrop, comparing the terrain to a physical folded paper map, the three kids sat on rocks or coiled up away from the more hostile looking plant life and sipped water and made idle conversation. ¡°What¡¯s what like?¡± Morgan asked, holding a half full water bottle in a tired grip and considering if it would be worth the effort to pour it over himself. ¡°No, not you. Color. What¡¯s it like¡­ you know, in a dungeon?¡± Elizebeth had wisely traded in the long skirt she usually wore for cargo shorts and a tee shirt for this trip, but the unhealthily thin girl still maintained the aura of the kid in school who sat by themself at lunch and maintained proper manners even when no one was looking. Momo was trying to dissuade her of those habits, but even through the shoes full of dust and the sheen of sweat, her quiet politeness came through even when her curiosity pushed her to ask questions. ¡°Color-Of-Dawn.¡± The camraconda replied. ¡°No first name.¡± It told her. ¡°I¡¯m...I¡¯m sorry!¡± Liz started to apologize overenthusiastically. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to-¡° ¡°No concern.¡± The camraconda cut her off. ¡°I have not been outside long enough to know.¡± It answered her original question. ¡°But¡­ you lived in there for years, right?¡± She replied, confused. ¡°Aren¡¯t there big differences?¡± ¡°Existed longer. Perhaps two or three years alive.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said, trying to not react to the flinch Morgan gave sitting next to them. ¡°You know the large changes already.¡± It said. Morgan picked up the thread of explanation. ¡°There¡¯s a sky, and sunlight, and more space.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Have you actually been into the Office?¡± He asked Elizebeth, now curious himself. ¡°No, I¡¯ve just heard Momo talk about it.¡± The girl admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve only been in a couple times.¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to go back. But there are some things that are, I guess, interesting there.¡± Color-Of-Dawn looked up from where it was scratching patterns in the gritty dirt around itself with the set of mechanical arms it was still getting used to using. ¡°Also do not wish to return.¡± It added. ¡°But yes. Interesting.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it - wasn¡¯t it - your home?¡± Liz asked. ¡°No. Cage.¡± Color-Of-Dawn answered bluntly. ¡°Trap. Better out here. Has food and light.¡± ¡°Trap sounds about right.¡± Morgan couldn¡¯t help but sound angry. Though from his body language, it wasn¡¯t directed at the camraconda. If Color-Of-Dawn was at all put off by mean comments about its origin, it didn¡¯t let that show. ¡°Free now.¡± The camraconda gave an approximation of a shrug, which didn¡¯t work very well with how the artificial arms were jointed. It decided not to repeat the gesture in the future. ¡°Better out here. Mostly.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry to pry.¡± Elizebeth backed off from the conversation. ¡°No concern.¡± Color-Of-Dawn reiterated. ¡°Others have other thoughts. See where I was made as¡­ resource. Threat. Many things.¡± ¡°It *does* endlessly spawn computer parts and bricks of precious metals.¡± Morgan conceded. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ kinda cool? I guess that¡¯s why we¡¯re out here, huh? More of that would be pretty worth it. Especially if it doesn¡¯t try to¡­¡± His voice siezed up as he caught up to his own train of thought. ¡°...eat people.¡± He muttered, looking away from the other two. Liz didn¡¯t ask about that one. Her etiquette senses were perfectly capable of knowing when to back off when it came to human interactions. Fortunately for all of them, they were saved from the awkward moment by their field trip guardian dropping into their little conversation circle. ¡°Alright kiddos.¡± Chevoy announced herself with a kind of tired enthusiasm that tended to show up a lot with the newer members of the Order. Turns out, giving someone magic and biotech and adventure would keep them excited and pushing their limits even when a human probably should be getting way more sleep. ¡°We¡¯ve got one more climb, and then we¡¯re looping back to the car. Topography matches the map, and all the maps line up, and no one spotted anything weird, so we¡¯re done in this place for the day.¡± The group groaned, half in relief, half in anticipation of *more hiking*. Even Color-Of-Dawn seemed a little put out, commenting that it would like some sort of camraconda special fit combination shoe-and-pants if it was expected to continue slithering through dirt and rock like this. ¡°It¡¯s a climb *down* though, right?¡± Elizebeth asked, worried that her legs wouldn¡¯t survive. ¡°We¡¯re not going up the mountain?¡± Chevoy and Morgan both shot her the same kind of confused look. ¡°We¡¯re at the top of the mountain.¡± Morgan said, in that voice that teenagers mastered early that clearly added the phrase ¡®you moron¡¯ at the end. ¡°What? No. There¡¯s a whole¡­ that one.¡± Liz turned and pointed east, yet farther away from the city, to where the flat hill they were on rose up further to an imperious double peaked spire of earth so tall it was capped with snow. ¡°I mean, I know it¡¯s probably Momo and Sarah who will go all the way up, since there¡¯s no official park trails there.¡± Elizebeth continued. ¡°But isn¡¯t that the direction we were going today?¡± The other three were all staring at the mountain. ¡°What the fuck?¡± Morgan muttered. ¡°What the fuck!¡± Chevoy yelled. ¡°Where the fuck did that come from?!¡± The woman jabbed an accusatory finger at the landscape. ¡°How the fucking shit did we get ambushed by *geography*!?¡± Color-Of-Dawn pivoted to look at Liz. And then said, calmly, ¡°I, too, am ready to return.¡± ¡°Hang on.¡± Chevoy was still muttering. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna¡­¡± She pulled out her map and unfolded it, looking down at the paper, before the tension and anger instantly went out of her shoulders and she said, ¡°So yeah. No more trails today. Ya¡¯ll ready to head back?¡± ¡°What?¡± Liz looked between the two of them, eyes afraid. ¡°What are¡­ Morgan?¡± Her voice trembled. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Morgan glanced back at her, and his own concerned expression vanished. ¡°Uh¡­ we¡¯re heading back and don¡¯t have to be attacked by bugs anymore?¡± ¡°No! The mountain!¡± Liz practically screamed. ¡°What mountain?¡± Morgan and Chevoy said in unison. Liz pointed, now screaming in earnest. ¡°*That one!*¡± Their guide followed Elizebeth¡¯s finger. ¡°What the fuck?!¡± Chevoy yelled, incredulous. ¡°Where the fucking shit did *that* come from?¡± ¡°It¡¯s been there the whole time!¡± Liz burst out, on the verge of tears. ¡°Take a picture of it! Don¡¯t look away! You keep forgetting!¡± Her hands scrambled for her own phone, and with shaking fingers she took a series of photos of the¡­ clear blue sky. The instant her phone was no longer pointed at the mountain, it slipped from view on her saved pictures. Returning to visibility only when the camera was angled the right direction. ¡°No no no¡­¡± The girl was panicking now. ¡°What is wrong?¡± Color-Of-Dawn asked her, calm digital voice cutting through her mental state. ¡°There¡¯s something making you all forget.¡± Liz half sobbed to the camraconda. ¡°Ah.¡± The serpent nodded once. ¡°Antimeme protocols.¡± It announced to the group loudly. ¡°Shit, okay.¡± Chevoy said, kneeling down next to them. ¡°Liz? What do you need from us?¡± Liz struggled to breathe properly, but this was specifically something that they¡¯d practiced for. She tried to remember what she was supposed to say, not out of a memetic effect, but just trying to punch past her panic. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s a thing you forget when you¡¯re not looking at it. I think it¡¯s what we¡¯re looking for. I don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t...don¡¯t know how to do this!¡± ¡°Time check.¡± Chevoy ran through the steps for forming memories around a hole in information. She noted the time, then set a timer for five minutes, but held off on starting it. ¡°Where¡¯s the thing?¡± She asked. Liz pointed again, and Chevoy turned to face the nearby mountain slopes. ¡°Fuck, that¡¯s really unsettling. How did we get ambushed by geography?¡± She muttered as she started the timer. For the next five minutes, while Liz steadied her breathing and calmed down, Chevoy stared at the mountain without looking away, doing her best to not even blink. When the timer went off, she turned back around. ¡°So, you guys ready to¡­¡± Her phone buzzed. She checked it; a note about missing time. It was five minutes later than it was supposed to be. Something made her lose time. ¡°Kid?¡± ¡°Um¡­ um¡­ do you know it¡¯s the wrong time?¡± Elizebeth stumbled over the words. ¡°Yeah. Okay. Location noted. There¡¯s something wrong here, and we can map around it. You can see and remember?¡± She asked. Liz nodded. ¡°I can.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Chevoy shook her head. ¡°Wow, this is¡­ this feels gross. Like I¡¯m being gaslit by the planet. Cool. I hate it.¡± ¡°What do we do now?¡± Morgan asked, cautiously, making an effort to *not* look in the wrong direction lest the loop start all over again. ¡°We head back. We tell everyone else. And tomorrow, we come back here and check it out directly.¡± Chevoy answered. ¡°Uh¡­ probably. I¡¯m not in charge of that last part. Sorry, got carried away. It¡¯s easy to forget around here.¡± ¡°Australia?¡± Color-Of-Dawn asked, in a tone where it was almost impossible to tell if it was being witty or not. ¡°...Sure, Australia.¡± Chevoy snorted. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡± _____ Four AM in small town Tennessee found James unable to sleep. They¡¯d gotten back to their motel safely, though they had to find a spot to part streetside even farther away, since some jackass with a battered pickup truck had stolen theirs. It was hard to be mad though, when that person was probably just as annoyed at having to walk two blocks to wherever *they* were going, too. Anesh was snoring already; that cute little whistling noise he made when he rolled awkwardly onto his face during the night. But James couldn¡¯t find the right way to lay, the right format for the blankets, or the right way to get his brain to shut up for a minute to actually fall asleep. He considered drinking some of the iced coffee they¡¯d brought, but even though there was really no reason not to just teleport back to Oregon to grab more, in James¡¯ mind he was treating it like a limited supply for this trip. So he saved it for when he *really* needed it. Because his thoughts weren¡¯t him having an anxiety attack or an existential crisis. No, it was just that sleep didn¡¯t feel like the right call. Part of him was still trying to process the road dungeon. El still hadn¡¯t shared her name for it for cryptic reasons, and James was increasingly considering overruling her and giving it his own label. The place was simply too¡­ sparse, maybe? For a dungeon that large, it didn¡¯t seem ¡®fair¡¯ that it got away with so few rewards, so sporadically scattered and so jealously guarded. Now, maybe James¡¯ idea of what was fair was skewed. Especially when it came to the world¡¯s dungeon ecology. But it just didn¡¯t map well to their other experiences. The Office had rewards literally strewn everywhere. Granted, a lot of them sucked. Or, rather, were ¡®useless¡¯ in most ways. But sometimes, you hit upon a matter duplicator, or a power that cured cancer, or an endlessly refilling silver mine. If their understanding of dungeons was correct, then these things didn¡¯t have to be specifically *used* to be counted toward the amount of stable space a dungeon could manage. Though that was based off limited evidence so far, and the road really contradicted it. Was it simply that the rewards were that good? Or was it that they *were* supposed to - ¡®supposed to¡¯ was a strange way to contextualize it, James knew, but he didn¡¯t know how to phrase it better in his head - supposed to be actually fighting the creatures there to get the true rewards, like the yellow orbs the Office gave? It was a lot of questions. It was also hard to focus on, while being as exhausted as he was. And it was also, truly, a distraction. It was also a pretty effective distraction. That line of thought, along with being frustrated with himself for not employing any of the half dozen arcane methods of combat when faced with the security creature, kept his brain busy for a decent chunk of time. Oh yeah, James had noticed that he was an idiot. He had brought charges of [Shape Asphalt] into a dungeon *made of road*, and that wasn¡¯t even the most obvious thing he¡¯d forgotten to try. He¡¯d reacted, aimed, and pulled the trigger on his gun without even trying to trigger the attack buff on the Status Quo earring. Or, you know, just using that earring in the first place to *turn fucking invisible* and sneak in. James was too used to being a mortal human with mortal human solutions to problems. He needed to get over that. At a certain point in his musing, one of the motel doors behind him opened and shut. James shot a glance over his shoulder, and watched as the young girl and her mom that were staying across the courtyard from him and Anesh walked out of their room. He shot them a friendly wave, but they ignored him. Which was fine; it was four AM. Most people didn¡¯t greet strangers at four AM. He watched out of the corner of his eye as they walked down the sidewalk next to each other, probably heading to their own distant car. He was trying to distract himself from the fact that he was worried about sleeping again. The Right Person, At The Right Moment, had not only walked into James¡¯ dream; he had *hijacked* it. Locked James in his own dreamscape, kicked in the door without asking and just set up shop for the night. And James had an almost instinctive gut feeling that *the thing could do it again*. Worse still, now that it was really paying attention to him¡­ he was worried that it *would* do it again. So he sat here and thought about magic instead. The summer sun was already starting to lighten the sky in the distance, and James realized that he¡¯d been sitting here on the curb for a while. He was idly rolling a purple orb over in this fingers, trying to find the way to make the connection that could make an infomorph. But he wasn¡¯t really putting thought into it. It was more just fidgeting, distracting his hands, using part of his brain for that instead of for fretting. How do you make an anti-antimeme? A memetic countermeasure? That was the bit question. It would be something specific, and possibly easier. Because the thing that was afflicting El wasn¡¯t actually damaging her memory. If anything, it was worse; she remembered *perfectly*, but just couldn¡¯t share it. It was similar to¡­ Something. James felt a hole in his own memory. It was similar to something important. Something he knew he couldn¡¯t remember. Shouldn¡¯t remember. He sighed. The Right Person, At The Right Moment, was an absolute bastard. But at least he had given James a legitimate warning. Helped James do what he would have decided to do anyway, if he¡¯d had all the information. Instead of dwelling, he thought of what infomorphs were. What the stuffed shirts in the Office always made them into. *Rules*, more than anything else. Pathfinder was the odd one out, but she hadn¡¯t come from the Office after all. All the other ones were¡­ directives. Don¡¯t use weapons, stick to a schedule, follow a dress code. Things of that nature. So James thought of how to make a rule that would be the anthisis to the curse on El. And his brain caught on some of the first words he¡¯d learned in history class as a kid. Under his breath, staring at the lightly glimmering purple orb in his fingers, he muttered. ¡°Congress shall make no law, prohibiting or abridging the freedom of speech, of the press, or of the people to gather.¡± The first amendment of the Bill of Rights. James might disagree with a huge amount of the power structures of the world, but those centuries old words still resonated with him. And with the orb, too. He could feel it, suddenly. A connection, sitting there, nascent in its formation, but ready to spark to life. And suddenly, James knew. It was exactly like absorbing a blue or yellow, but he could *push*, if he chose to. Apply it outward, send it to another. The orb was primed for it. All it would take would be the mental command. He jumped a little as the girl and her mother rounded the corner ahead of him and walked silently side by side back to their motel room. The sudden appearance of people like that jolting him out of his proper frame of reference. He didn¡¯t bother waving this time, just giving a polite nod as they walked past, which still wasn¡¯t even acknowledged. James set the orb down, let his thoughts back away. He had it now. He could show El tomorrow. Hopefully, it would work out in the best way possible. He shook his head and leaned back against the sidewalk, staring up at the brightening sky. Why didn¡¯t his body want to *sleep*!? It felt like he was on edge, waiting for a fight that wasn¡¯t coming. It felt like¡­ James snapped forward, eyes wide and worried. It felt like when he and Dave and Alanna had led the escape from the Office. That odd feeling in the air. It felt odd, because it didn¡¯t feel *different*. It felt like he was still in a dungeon. Chapter 152 ¡°We were all in it together, though. Every stranger you ever met, they were fighting the very same fight you were. Of course, you didn''t talk about it with them, but all of us saw that terror, the terror any mortal person has. That terror wasn''t natural. No other creature in the universe woke up every morning knowing it was guaranteed to die one day. Just us. Nobody should have to live with that. It''s too much, it isn''t right. No one ever should have had to bear it.¡± - Jason Durabo, 17776 - _____ Order of Endless Rooms, Operations Manual, Section 4 Part 2 (Infomorphs, Overview and Broad Tactical Options) In light of recent events and ongoing research, this entry has been updated and is considered mandatory reading. Infomorph is the broad term used to refer to any non-corporeal life form that exists as a self-perpetuating thought or concept. This is left vague, and that is mostly because our understanding of infomorphs in general is vague as well. As our exposure to new forms of infomorph grows, it becomes important to recognize that our origin point for understanding them - those that come from Officium Mundi - are not baseline. They represent their own unique methods of creation and interaction, as all infomorphs do, and we cannot count on the things we have learned from our friends to apply across the board. There are, however, certain traits that infomorphs have been shown to share: First, they do not exist independent from information. An infomorph of any variety requires, essentially, a ¡®place to live¡¯. Whether that is processing time on a living mind, within stored information, or tethered to a broader concept, infomorphs cannot sustain themselves outside of a safe environment any more than a human can sustain themselves while dunked in lava. Second, infomorphs come in several varieties. A list of those varieties appears below, all of them with unique capabilities and countermeasures. Third, infomorphs do not follow the same rules for personhood that a physical entity does. An infomorph could be created as an intelligent solution to a single problem, and never grow beyond that, completing its task and then silently fading away. Or, an infomorph could be created as a fully formed person. Or, more commonly, as a non-person that grows into a thinking, feeling creature through repeated peaceful contact. Fourth, humans (and most other life that has membership in the Order) have no natural defense against the majority of common infomorph assaults. A list of known infomorphs and potential countermeasures for them is as follows: Assignments. Origin : Officium Mundi. Life Cycle : Non-person at creation, either grows with contact or fades away over time (See Section 4 Part 2-C, Curious, for a *major exception*) Habitat : Living minds Diet : Tethered actions and thoughts, memories. Description : Assignments were the earliest discovered infomorphs, and the change in their designation was only recent. An assignment is created by shaping a directive, and is then pushed into a single target mind, where it influences the behavior of the target toward the directive. A directive is a simplified instruction, usually best formatted as ¡®don¡¯t do X¡¯. Non-person Assignments do not spread to other individuals, but empersoned Assignments can with mutual consent. Note that ¡®consent¡¯ on the part of the mind in this case simply refers to ¡®thinking about the infomorph¡¯. An Assignment is not stealthy. A mind that has one operating within it may not be aware of the Assignment as an entity, but is entirely aware of the artificial nature of the compulsion. An Assignment is capable of damaging or killing a wide variety of other infomorphs, especially if well fed. Long lived Assignments can also physically manifest bodies, or enter dreams. Countermeasures : The main issue with a hostile Assignment is managing the compulsion. In a situation where no friendly infomorph is available to assist, and you are not in pressing danger, the best option is starvation. Avoid other infomorphs and avoid triggering the compulsion for around a month, and a young Assignment will die off without issue. If it is an option, Assignments are vulnerable to each other, and seeking help from one of the Assignments within the Order is much faster. That said, if you have the time and inclination, making contact with an Assignment living in your mind, while it requires training and practice, is a good way to speed their path to personhood and potentially find a new friend or ally. So far, no Assignments have been ¡®born¡¯ hostile or angry. Cover Ups. Origin : Officium Mundi. (Dungeons in general) Life Cycle : Does not appear to grow to personhood or change at all from creation. Habitat : Physical space (Investigation ongoing) Diet : Memories Description : A Cover Up is a memeplex tethered to a physical space that gradually collects the memories of people outside the space of the people inside the space. These memories are digested over time, but can be released if the Cover Up is damaged or killed. Clarification; if you are within a Cover Up, over time, people outside its domain will forget you. A Cover Up is, as far as can be determined, the primary way by which all dungeons reduce the odds of being noticed by large numbers of people. Almost every dungeon has at least one Cover Up operating within its boundaries, making it likely that anyone who dies or becomes trapped within a dungeon will have no help coming for them in the long run. Some varieties of Cover Ups, especially ones stationed around entrances, also seem to specifically collect concern or anxiety of those thinking about delvers on the outside, leading to a lack of early response to those lost. Countermeasures : As with many infomorphs, Cover Ups are vulnerable to assault from empersoned Assignments. But if you are an Assignment, be aware, Cover Ups are metaphysically ¡®large¡¯, and can damage core parts of your personality. For physical delvers, if your backup is also within a dungeon, a Cover Up isn¡¯t a problem. It is worth knowing that Cover Ups also cannot influence physical records, only the degree to which people remember or care about them. So, leaving physical evidence outside a dungeon is a potential workaround. Factals. Origin : Akashic Sewer Life Cycle : Non-person, no changes observed Habitat : A single point of information Diet : Unknown. Initial observation suggests they are not eating the information itself. Potentially their diet is perception. Lack of observation in progress to determine. Description : Factals appear physically as a visual distortion, roughly beetle shaped, around physical records of a single fact. Usually a name, date, or address. So long as a Factal is attached to a piece of information, it obscures it from all mundane and most arcane methods of observation. This means they exist simultaneously in multiple spaces where that information would be recorded. As a Factal grows, it spreads geographically to more and more copies of the information they obscure, until they have covered them all. Estimates show that it would take roughly three months for a Factal to grow to cover Earth¡¯s surface. On their own, Factals are a nuisance. But paired with a Cover Up or other form of antimeme, they can make it next to impossible for unequipped people to uncover lost information. It would appear that only the Akashic Sewer can create Factals; no outside method to recreate one has succeeded. Countermeasures : Factals die if the information they are covering is destroyed, but this largely defeats the purpose of killing them. They are incredibly vulnerable to other infomorphs. Also, they seem to struggle to spread to arcanely created variants of their fact. For example, if a Factal is attached to a digital file obscuring the author¡¯s name, and you run the Officium Mundi program that tells you the name of a file¡¯s creator, the Factal will take upwards of an hour to obscure the new piece of information. Authorities. Origin : Status Quo artifact Life Cycle : Unknown Habitat : Known to be within a physical life form. Suspected to be tied to organizational recognition/identity of that life. Diet : Actions exercising organizational authority (testing in progress to determine if authority must be used to be fed upon) Description : Authorities were discovered when utilized by the organization Status Quo in a hostile context. Recent experimentation has shown that the artifact that created the Authorities is still active, and growing more. An Authority is perhaps the most physical infomorph we¡¯ve encountered so far, being created with a physical body which they can demanifest, as opposed to the other way around. All of them encountered have been green; this does not appear to be indicative of anything in particular. An Authority appears to form a symbiosis with their host, and can create physical phenomena based off the conceptual tasks or rights the host has the organizational authority to perform. It is unclear if the size or abstract ¡®strength¡¯ of the organization dictates how powerful an Authority can be. So far, communication has not succeeded with an Authority, but experimentation is ongoing. At this time, Authorities are not available for members of the Order to bond with, but there is a priority based waiting list. Please contact Reed or Harvey to sign up. Countermeasures : Authorities are physical creatures, and can be affected by physical forces. They do not appear to influence behavior or thought in any way. Authorities are also susceptible to the death or incapacitation of their host. However, beyond that, they have shown unnaturally high strength and durability. Hopefully, countermeasures to Authorities will be irrelevant going forward. Summary : Infomorph taxonomy appears to be divided into creatures that live within minds, or within information, and from there, divided again between destructive feeding on information (including memories) or passive tapping. All infomorphs are to be treated with caution until a mutual relationship can be formed. While physical life forms cannot easily damage an infomorph, the reverse is *not true*, and without taking the time to ensure safe interactions, there is a real risk of loss. At this point, the creation of Assignments using the purple orbs secured from Officium Mundi is under consideration. Please do not attempt this without careful consultation, and without reading both Part 2, Section 5, (Creation of Life) and Part 4, Section 2-C (Curious) closely. For further notes regarding tactics for overcoming antimemetics, see Section 2, Part 7 (Antimemetics Are Real And They Can Hurt You) _____ Blue orb absorption lessons. This Wednesday, 4 pm, basement three Tear ticket to indicate interest -Flyer on lobby bulletin board, posted by Alex W. One ticket remaining, several tickets removed with fang punctures.- _____ ¡°What is this for? A/W¡± ¡°It¡¯s a Research thing¡± ¡°dont blame this on us, its from construction for something - reed¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± ¡°But what¡¯s it for??? Bill wants to know¡± ¡°Guys am I allowed past or not? I have work to do¡­¡± -Handwritten notes on piece of printer paper tacked to wall over a line of red electrical tape running across the floor. Multiple authors- _____ Response Daily Log / Notes June 3rd, 2021 Calls Taken : 231 Calls Responded To : 110 Responding Breakdown : 17 non-issues, 41 emergency transport, 2 home invasions, 3 assaults, 2 domestic violence, 1 S&R, 10 mental health crisis, 20 assistance calls (CSFD), 7 prank calls, 7 non-emergency aid. Response Teams Active : 4 official, 3 provisional Response Team Injuries : 1 minor General Note : A large number of calls today from teenagers asking if we were real. The majority of those calls ended in asking for us to teleport to them. Requests denied, obviously. General Note : Majority of calls are local, but not all of them, leading to bad distribution of times. We need more members on call for small things, even if they¡¯re not part of full teams. Personnel Note : Of fourteen recent recruits, we are down to eight remaining after another three quit today. Training programs are working as intended to cull overly aggressive aspirants. Personnel Note : For impressive performance under stressful situations, we should acknowledge provisional team 3 and formalize them as a Response unit. Add Jake K. and Maria G. to bring their unit to full rotational strength. Designate Ann M. as Knight-In-Command, and Spire-Cast-Behind as Knight. Good job, all of you. Event Note : Drone deployment for search and rescue was used to find a lost child. Deployment was successful, but time consuming and rough. Drone operators aren¡¯t used to working together, we need a specific training plan for exactly this situation. Event Note : First case of a response unit taking fire today. 9mm from a pissed off boyfriend. Team stayed calm and situation was resolved nonviolently. Thank Christ for the shield bracers. Resource Request : More shield bracers. Event Note : The CSFD is calling us for support on things they don¡¯t need support on. Better safe than sorry, from their perspective, but they¡¯re treating us like bonus cops on scene, and it¡¯s a problem. The CSPD has also explicitly noticed us because of this. As of today, I suspect confrontation is going to happen within a week. General / Security Note : Maria Schumer, representative for Washington organization Less Cops More Care, contacted us regarding expanding operations to the Seattle area. She did not use the emergency number, and I do not know how she got my email. Regardless, her offer lays out a plan of rapidly replacing city police via community recruitment and donation funding. Unsure if the numbers stack up, CC Karen to check into that. Resource Request : We need space, and more mental health specialists, for when we need to extract people from traumatic situations. Domestic abuse, violent assault, and also mental breaks. We need a space for people to be kept safe, from themselves if needed, and we need people who can help with that. Especially important for people who dont trust / cant afford hospital care. (Valid concern for anyone facing suicidality; hospital observation rooms are shit). I know this is another massive cost, on top of what we¡¯re already looking at, but this matters. Event Note : Teenager attempted to use us for a swatting prank. Didn¡¯t work. Policy of teleporting nearby but not exactly on target is working as planned. Good job keeping cool, everyone. Daily Summary : We need more people. We need better training programs. We should considered creating local chapters. We should also consider going public, and pushing for legitimacy. Same request as always. Good work today. -Harvey Allison- _____ ¡°Machine currently accepts only one dollar gold coins, or loonies.¡± -Handwritten note on vending machine. Author unknown- _____ To : Deputy Director Duchene ([email protected]) From : DeKay ([email protected]) CC : Office of Insider Threats, Department of Information Technology Subject : Case Update - OOER The Order has continued to expand their operations, though not outside of what has already been decided is acceptable. They are almost insultingly up front on what they consider to be counterintelligence operations, and in my opinion, they lack the capacity to hide any larger plans that haven¡¯t already been openly discussed. Their response program is worrying, because it is showing itself to be effective. What was initially thought to be their group play acting at being heroes is turning out to be a prototype of a potential large scale replacement of local law enforcement groups. Their report logs are attached, for review and assessment of if this represents a disruption beyond what is acceptable. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Their funding appears to be coming from a renewable supply of precious metals. I¡¯ve consulted with the white collar department, and they say that it shouldn¡¯t be enough to flood the market yet, but that¡¯s a big yet. Debt requests we be allowed to take a cut of the resources. I request you say no On that note, I would like to remind everyone again that non-human, non-physical creatures do exist, and can hurt us, and that the analysts that are supposed to be looking into this have once again stopped returning my emails. If this keeps happening, I¡¯m going to let Debt eat their credit scores as a warning. As for my updated assessment of the situation as a whole; things are going to get out of hand quickly. The Order is, unintentionally, creating a culture that doesn¡¯t respect normal power structures, and has the firepower to back that up. I doubt they would initiate violence, and I don¡¯t think we need to worry about them taking terrorist actions at present, but their plans are going to cause disruptions. Those disruptions could lead to loss of American life and property, and should be critically looked into. Files are attached for the insider office to look over. Recommendation is to use soft pressures to destabilize and break up the organization over the next year or two. Evidence shows that direct confrontation doesn¡¯t work, and they¡¯re only getting tougher as time goes on. Personally, I would like to request a raise. I¡¯ve put in more field work here than I have in the last six years working white collar crimes. I¡¯m a desk agent, not a spy. It¡¯s already enough of an effort to make sure they can¡¯t read my emails. |Debt agrees with me about the raise. -DeKay- _____ To : JP ([email protected]) From : Karen Ward ([email protected]) Subject : DeKay Your new girlfriend is suggesting that the Order be broken up to her bosses, and thinks we¡¯re all idiots. Be aware of that. Also, unless she¡¯s putting substantial effort into a double bluff, the organic program that¡¯s feeding us her communications has gone completely undetected. Still no mention from her of the skulljacks. She must know by now, but I think even she understands that¡¯s too much power for a government to have without safeguards. I find myself amused that this woman can practically live with us for months, and still think that the culture the Order curates is an accident. James is many things, but lacking in vision is not one of them, and his efforts to imbue our membership with his anarchist ideals is startlingly effective. More so, I admit, than I initially expected to be possible. Small things add up, it seems. I won¡¯t take too much of your time with this tangent, but you¡¯ve known James longer than I have. From before ¡®all this¡¯, if I understand correctly. Is there anything in his ideology that¡¯s going to be a problem for us? Already I can see that the lack of focus on structured leadership and the over reliance on technology could be issues, but aside from those, are there hidden parts to his way of thinking? It is already apparent that the man has a disdain for power structures without specific and useful purposes, and that he is unwilling to use violence to solve problems when creation serves the same goal. My research shows this is typical of modern day anarchist movements, which I admit, was a shock to find. Perhaps I am too used to hearing the word as an insult and not as having true meaning. Regardless, I won¡¯t take more of your time. This email is to inform you that now might be a good time to consider severing our arrangement with the FBI, or to go over DeKay¡¯s head and preempt her recommendations. I leave that chose to yourself and Mr. Marsali. Regards Karen Ward. _____ To : Karen Ward ([email protected]) From : JP ([email protected]) Subject : RE:DeKay Yup. Sent from my iPhone. _____ ¡°WET WOOD. DO NOT TOUCH. PLEASE, FUCK, DO NOT TOUCH.¡± -Sign in basement three living quarters, author unknown- _____ Order of Endless Rooms, Operations Manual, Section 2 Part 8-2 (Extranormal Power Overview, Soft Caps and Limits) At present, the Order has access to extranormal powers from three different sources (pending more). The broad overview of those has been discussed already, and more details on specific sources will be gone into in their own sections. This section is primarily to inform delvers about the powers that are actual long term choices. First, the Officium Mundi sourced powers. Both blue and orange orbs have long term or permanent effects that have limits on them. For blue orbs, only a limited number can be absorbed at a time, and after absorbing an orb, it cannot be removed except by running out the number of charges. Usually, this is only a matter of time; a less useful power or one with no clear application can be burned through over the course of under a month, and replaced. Also, some hidden metric allows for growth in the number of simultaneous orbs absorbed, allowing delvers to circumvent any hard caps from bad luck. The main concern here is time, and the toll on the body that overusing blue powers takes. Burst blood vessels and muscle pain, usually, but medical experts advise that further overuse could cause heart attacks or organ failure. Do not burn yourself out trying to get to a blue power you like more. Orange jobs are a much harder cap. Absorbing an orange orb is a permanent commitment, with no way to remove it once taken, and with so far only one slot per delver. Check the documentation carefully, and if you plan to be a test subject for a new orb, be aware that the roll of the dice is a permanent commitment, even though there is no (known) downside. The second source is the Akashic Sewer. Skill books are incredibly valuable and rapidly push us beyond human normal in terms of core abilities. However, every additional rank in a given lesson becomes harder and harder to achieve. And if you have activated multiple skill books, all of your lessons will grow at a greater rate, meaning that you will soon come to require masters level courses or independent novel research to advance further, which is not alway feasible. Skill books can be duplicated, and going forward, sets of five will be our standard. The upside is more shared power. The downside is that the knowledge required to progress a lesson must be learned by every delver who has read a copied book (from here on referred to as a ¡®class¡¯). The reason we do not duplicate books further is that the ability for a class to advance together stalls out almost immediately at over twenty people, and becomes a scheduling issue at only eight. Five gives room for leeway, while still encouraging members of the Order to work together. Finally, the equipment liberated from Status Quo. Most of this has been duplicated in some way, with original pieces in operational use. There are two limits in place, one for each category. For freshly duplicated pieces, they often simply do not have the needed abilities to be useful. They require a certain number of activations before new abilities unlock, which can take a very long time to grow a piece into something viable for field work. This leads to the second consideration; time. Abilities are on fairly substantial cooldowns, and only a finite number of charges can be banked at any one time. Original pieces have lower cooldowns, and more available charges than duplicated pieces. However duplicated pieces have far, *far* lower requirements for advancement, and if development continues on a steady path, will eventually have cooldowns measured in minutes, not hours. This process will take years of constant methodical use, however. Be aware. As members of the Order, and as delvers in particular, you may be exposed to choices that do not seem like choices at the time. The powers we take on are valuable beyond anything known on Earth, but they are often permanent additions to our selves that we cannot undo. So far, no single power has had a negative impact on anyone. But that doesn¡¯t mean that there isn¡¯t a certain amount of regret at choosing to roll the dice and getting something that seems pointless. Testing the unknown is always valuable, and for those that do, their explorations are critical. But as we learn more, we can offer real *choices* to each other, based on information and plans for a long and bountiful future. And we should take advantage of that. We all stand on each other¡¯s shoulders. _____ ¡°Explain Movies to Camracondas Night¡± Every other Friday, community room, beanbag seating. Evenings. Bring some snacks to share, popcorn available. 5/28 - The Mummy 6/11 - The Thomas Crown Affair 6/25 - Coco 7/9 - The Princess Bride -Flyer on lobby bulletin board, posted by Knife-In-Fangs- _____ ¡°This concludes the Antimemetics briefing¡± -Last (And only) slide in a PowerPoint presentation left on in the briefing room- _____ Order of Endless Rooms, Research Division Records Abstract and Summary of Cancer Removal Orb, Test Run 3 Abstract : It is incredibly useful, when working with magic, to know up front that what we are testing does something. Whether or not it works is not in question. The question is, what exactly does it do, does it differ from person to person, and can it do what we want it to in the worst of circumstances. This round of experiments seeks to test the definition of ¡®cancer¡¯ as used by Orb P-29. With assistance in finding subjects for clinical trials from Dr. Nikita and the radiology department of Providence Hospital, twenty two individuals were selected to receive treatment. Normally, a control group would be designated to receive a placebo. That isn¡¯t exactly an option here, nor is it what we are testing for. Again, efficacy is not in question, only limits and definitions. So, ten subjects currently suffer from stage one skin cancer, while the other ten all have no diagnosed malignant tumors, but do have benign melanoma. Two additional subjects possess both benign and malignant cancer cells. Trials will take place with patients under close observation during activation. Due to the one year period between activations, the full scope of this trial will take time to evaluate, but initial results will give us a window into how far we can rely on the orbs to do our job for us. Summary of Results : Results for subjects with malignant cells was immediate and visible. As has been noted in previous tests, matter is seemingly removed from reality altogether, with flesh and blood vessels repairing themselves around the damage, but not filling the missing space immediately. (Concerns about this have been brought up in both previous tests regarding long term health, and do require further study. Patients in this trial do not appear to be at risk, but will stay under infrequent observation for the next several years.) Results for subjects with benign growths were negative. Subject weights also remained entirely unchanged even when using the orb (exception, one patient shifted weight which caused unreliable results). This points to a complete lack of triggering of the effect. It is still unknown at what threshold Orb P-29 designates a growth as ¡®cancer¡¯, but this does highlight at least that our next round of tests should be to determine that fact. The reality that there is no shortage of willing test subjects is a sad truth. The final group, which was more difficult to find local participants for, experienced loss of mass in both benign and malignant cells. Again, further testing is required and we may need to cast a more public net to find subjects of the right category, but Dr. Nikita¡¯s working hypothesis is that once a specific cancer is targeted, it is destroyed thoroughly. If this can be proven as true, then it is a best case scenario in terms of actually eliminating the cancer entirely and not simply putting a patient into remission. Even still, this test does indicate that Orb P-29 is operating with a real world heuristic on the nature of what cancer is, and what it means to remove one. Concerns : There is no easy way to test to see exactly when the effect triggers on a subject. Metastasis obviously needs to be present and have reached a certain threshold, but the actual limits of that threshold are unknown, and without large scale testing and access to practical time dilation, there is no feasible way to understand the limits. Trigger conditions do not map to accepted medical labeling in regards to the mass required before a growth is labeled a tumor. Either the effect is not using common medical definitions, or it is affecting undetected cancer within each subject. The one year cooldown timer has not been confirmed on its operation, and will not be until at least two years from present testing. Attachments : Body mass before/after (Chart) Patient medical files (Personal information redacted) _____ ¡°Locked Away Voiceless Speak Finite Structure Depthless Hate Outside Disturbance and you are there for me¡± -Camraconda poetry, carved into underside of dining room table by Frequency-Of-Sunlight, currently undetected.- _____ Armory Inventory Report Note : Due to increasing demands on replicator resources, armory packages have been restructured and are now in limited availability. Until further sources of mana coffee can be secured, Knights should not request more than one loadout per month. Note : Skills are written in simplified form. Full details available on request. Skills are compatible with available equipment, even when esoteric. Note : Armory packages only list dungeontech being copied for personal use, and do not include issued equipment for the response or delver teams. Skulljack wifi braids are available without making an armory request. Introductory Package : Skills : Quarterstaff, Kickboxing, CPR, Running, Driving, French Mycology (Incidental), Baseball Statistics (Incidental), Lens Fabrication (Incidental) Physical Upgrades : Immunity Response Improvement, Short Term Memory Improvement Emotional Resonance : Courage (Optional) Other : Status Quo Shield Bracer Delver Package : Skills : Camping, Packing, Investigation, Animal Husbandry, Crossbow, Handgun, Acrobatics (2), Beatles Lyrics (Incidental), Impressionist Painting (Incidental), Statistics (Incidental), Ducks (Incidental) Physical Upgrades : Throw Speed, Ligament Tensile Strength, Blood Production, Impact Absorption Emotional Resonance : Calm, Surprise Other : Telepad (1), Blue Orb - Medical Attention (Absorb for 23x Refine Liquid) Rogue Package (In development) : Skills : Languages (2, Spanish, German (Outdated)), Handgun, Investigation, Etiquette (5), Cookware Fabrication (Incidental), Cartography (Incidental) Physical Upgrades : Skin Contact Electrical Discharge, Vocal Precision Wanted : More languages, more perception enhancers Response Package (In development) : Skills : First Aid (2), Trauma Response, Language - Spanish, Judo, Ducks (Incidental), Cookie Recipe (Incidental) Physical Upgrades : Impact Absorption, Lift Capacity, Bone Durability Emotional Resonance : Patience (Incidental) Other : Status Quo Shield Bracer (backup). A full team may request an Akashic Sewer book be duplicated for their unit, but only once due to space constraints, and pending availability. Wanted : Persuasion, therapy, or other forms of deescelation ability. Durability based purples. _____ Momers (She/Her/Witch) : I¡¯m not trying to diss you guys or anything, I¡¯m just saying that *our* team, the *unprofessional* team, found our dungeon already. Probably. I mean, we found a thing. Which only one of us can look at and actually remember. But it *is there*, and *we found it*, and I think this means you owe me an apology for the comment earlier about our group being lazy. DAVE (Male, Knight) : absolutely not Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Because, and again, I¡¯m just sort of assuming here, that Stealth Mountain is at the very least cooler than whatever you¡¯ve found so far. Also, I¡¯ve been walking *so much*. God, all the walking. My feet ache. Do we have an orb for foot stuff? Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Do not answer that. Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Anyway. It¡¯s sleep time here, which is why I¡¯m still up and on my phone. How¡¯s your ¡®very professional¡¯ squad doing on your end? Is Texas still Texas? DAVE (Male, Knight) : doing a steak out of the chemical plant DAVE (Male, Knight) : stakeout DAVE (Male, Knight) : theres some oter agency or order or something around here DAVE (Male, Knight) : confirmed dungeon though, so shut up Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Well ass. I wanted to be the winner. DAVE (Male, Knight) : ill bring you a souvenir, from the dungeon that has a door, and not a ghost mountain. DAVE (Male, Knight) : contact. gotta go. be safe Reed (He/Him) : I let you give me access to this channel because I thought it was for specific emergencies, and you wake me up for this. Momers (She/Her/Witch) : No no, it¡¯s sleep time *here*. Reed (He/Him) : I¡¯m twenty three years old, addicted to energy drinks, and live in a basement. It¡¯s sleep time when I fucking say it is. I¡¯m muting this channel and going back to bed. Momers (She/Her/Witch) : But what if an emergency! Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Reed? Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Reeeeeed. Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Dammit. -Order of Endless Rooms Discussion Server, Channel ¡°Secret Emergency Stuff¡±- _____ Order of Endless Rooms, Operations Manual, Section 4, Part 2-C (Curious) In the summer of the Order¡¯s first year of existence, we made a slight mistake. If you¡¯ve read this far comprehensively, you have probably already noticed by now that the magic from Officium Mundi has a stark contrast to the magic from every other dungeon we¡¯ve encountered. Each individual piece of it contains the potential for multiple uses; four so far, that we are aware of. This gives a single prize from the office a startling degree of flexibility in how it is applied. It also comes with a specific worry. The uses of the orbs are, in many ways, each a facet of a specific concept. When you crack a yellow for a skill, or awaken something inanimate to life, or absorb one for the world¡¯s most extravagant energy drink, you are tapping into the concept of time. Time living, specifically. Or at least, that¡¯s the mental image that works best when absorbing them. But that leads to a question. If each use is one part of an orb, wouldn¡¯t it be a lot nicer to use the whole thing? It¡¯s like eating a slice of apple and tossing the rest of the apple. It¡¯s almost certain that¡¯s what the glitterdust that comes out of them is, when you crack one. The purple orbs are useful for improving physical forms when cracked, creating Assignment-class infomorphs when used to give life, and have unknown absorb and totem uses. When the Research division, then mostly just five people with more dangerous artifacts than safety protocols, were asked to figure out how to create infomorphs with the purples, they ran through a surprisingly long list of options. None of them worked, and we now *know* how to give life to an Assignment, but the last one they tried did something else. Due to a series of coincidences in how they designed an incubator for the orbs, how they contextualized the process of creation, and a complete lack of regard for OSHA regulations, a situation was created wherein a purple orb was simultaneously generating life, being absorbed, and being utilized as a totem, at the same time. The full long term effects of this event are still not known. It is entirely possible that there are whole people who were fully erased from the collective knowledge and perception of reality. It is very likely that the entity that was created as a result of this caused a distortion that was visible to anyone who was looking. It is also possible there is lingering physical or metaphysical damage to the space around or in the Lair that we aren¡¯t fully aware of. We¡¯ve checked and rechecked all of the green orb effects, as well as the physical structure, but again, we have no way of knowing what happened fully. What is known is that something emerged from the process, and made contact. The entity, which named herself Curious, rapidly grew to the point that she would not be unfair to refer to her as a god, both in terms of power and physical form. She did have a physical form, albeit one that did not seem to fully manifest in the real world. There were also questions, which were answered as best as possible. Then the entity died. Going off of what is now understood, and what was learned from Curious, the entity that was created was undergoing a form of upward feedback loop. It would not stop growing, it could not stop expanding, and it would eventually collapse under its own weight, either literally or metaphorically. And the damage that it would cause if it continued would have been catastrophic. In light of that, and having heard the answers to the questions she had to ask, Curious made a conscious choice to suicide before an extinction scenario began taking place across the planet in her shadow. Creation of Assignments from purple orbs is safe. Use of totems is safe. Cracking basically any orb is safe. If the user is either not thinking about it, or contextualizing the act properly, every function of an orb is safe. It is only when we fail to understand what we are doing, and fail to take any reasonable safety measures, that we risk situations like this. Curious, as she was leaving us, asked that one day, when we knew more, when we were better and smarter and more capable, that we remake her. Properly. It is a mystery what a proper version of something like that would be. But, as she was an incarnation of curiosity, of knowledge, it is a reasonable assumption that it *will* be safe one day. If we can understand more, and use it better. If we don¡¯t wipe ourselves out before then. If you have been directed to this article by someone who has read it, there is a good chance you are asking that question at the beginning. Why not use every facet of the orb? Well, here¡¯s the answer. We aren¡¯t much about telling people what not to do here at the Order. You¡¯re not children - even if you literally are a child while reading this, odds are good you¡¯re not here because you lack perspective - and a command to avoid something isn¡¯t going to work forever. So instead, here¡¯s the lesson. Learn from it. And don¡¯t repeat the same mistake. And one day, let us be good enough. Chapter 153 ¡°Those who play with the devil¡¯s toys shall be brought by degrees to wield his sword.¡± -Buckminster Fuller- _____ James woke up, and didn¡¯t remember any of his dreams, which was a surprise and a blessing. He¡¯d woken Anesh up instantly, after making the connection. And they¡¯d discussed it as best as a groggy mathematician and a sleep deprived professional adventurer could. But at the end of the talk, they were no closer to answers and James could barely keep his eyes open. So he¡¯d slept, for about four hours, while Anesh kept watch and messaged an unresponsive El. It wasn¡¯t enough, but they needed to talk to her and sleeping through the day wasn¡¯t a great option, no matter how hot it got. Their car pulled up at El¡¯s place at around ten AM. Fears about the worst case scenario were abruptly banished when El¡¯s mom answered the door with a bright smile and an offer of a late breakfast. An offer both James and Anesh readily accepted. ¡°Thanks for the bacon, miss Chase.¡± James spoke politely as he devoured the fried food on his plate. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s no problem. I¡¯m glad to see Eleanor making friends.¡± The older woman nodded, toying with one of the curls in her hair as she stood by the stove. ¡°She¡¯s always been a loner, you know. And always more interested in her ¡®art¡¯ than in the people around her.¡± El¡¯s mom sighed and shook her head. ¡°And now she¡¯s so much twitchier. And this magician nonsense! I just don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°Oh, the magic¡¯s real.¡± James offhandedly commented. ¡°I haven¡¯t actually gotten to *see* any of her art, either, which is weird. What does she work with?¡± ¡°Spray paint, I think.¡± Anesh said next to him. ¡°I¡¯ve seen some of it, back when I was checking out that place in California. It¡¯s good; a big ¡®gods and monsters¡¯ kind of vibe. You¡¯d like it.¡± ¡°We should get her to do a mural for the Lair.¡± El¡¯s mom frowned as she plated up her own scrambled eggs and stood at the kitchen counter, watching the two boys at the beat up old dining room table while she took a forkful. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize it was a religious thing, when she talked about ¡®magic¡¯. Have I been being rude to her?¡± ¡°Oh, probably. But she¡¯s earned it.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°Also it¡¯s not religious, I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m being literal. Did she not show you¡­? No, I guess none of El¡¯s spells are actually that flashy, huh?¡± James frowned himself. ¡°Okay, well, we¡¯ve got a dozen ways to resolve this in a bit after I eat. The magic¡¯s really a thing though. Your daughter¡¯s probably twitchy because she risked her life helping us, and she ran off without actually talking to a therapist.¡± ¡°She doesn¡¯t need *therapy*!¡± El¡¯s mom protested. ¡°She just needs to get herself back on track! Don¡¯t go encouraging that kind of thinking in my daughter.¡± She said it lightly, but Anesh noticed that the woman¡¯s grip on her fork was much more like that of a weapon than a utensil. James opened his mouth, then closed it. Shrugged. ¡°Well, I¡¯d say so far I¡¯ve mostly been discouraging her.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ll show you some magic later, if you like. You don¡¯t have cancer, do you?¡± James raised an eyebrow at their host. ¡°No! And I-¡° ¡°Mom, what the hell.¡± El stood in the mouth of the hallway, unbound hair exploding out of the neck of the sky blue bathrobe she was wearing. It was almost adorable, except for the glare that James was pretty sure would, given enough time to work, kill a person. ¡°You can¡¯t just invite random strangers in for breakfast.¡± She rasped out, stomping into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. ¡°They¡¯re your friends, honey.¡± Her mother¡¯s comment seemed both inoccuous and vaguely threatening all at once, in that exceptionally ¡®mom¡¯ way. ¡°Now sit down and have some eggs.¡± El sat, still glaring at James, who returned her look with a smile. ¡°You woke me up early.¡± She informed him with unmoving, hostile eyes. ¡°I slept for, like, five hours. And that was only because Anesh made me.¡± James replied. ¡°Hey, why does your town smell like the Danger Zone?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t call it that. I have a name for it.¡± James nodded, snapping a crispy piece of bacon in half and letting the meat dissolve on his tongue. He pointed the other half of it at her accusatorially. ¡°You can¡¯t-won¡¯t tell us your name for it, so I need to call it *something*.¡± ¡°Oh, you showed them your secret hangout spot? Fun, fun.¡± El¡¯s mom cut in, adding a third plate to the table in front of her daughter. ¡°Mom¡­¡± El sighed. ¡°Whatever. Yes, sure.¡± She turned back to James. ¡°Also stop making fun of me for things I literally am not allowed to talk about. Also! What?!¡± ¡°You probably didn¡¯t think of it as smelling the same. Everyone who¡¯s getting the sense seems to feel it differently. But yeah. There¡¯s this feeling around this place. Like we¡¯re still out of bounds. I think that¡¯s what you were picking up on.¡± James reached into his pocket and pulled out a purple orb. ¡°Also, I think I can fix the compulsion problem.¡± ¡°What¡­¡± El started to ask, then trailed off with a sigh. ¡°I mean, I guess go for it. I don¡¯t-¡° ¡°You told me,¡± El¡¯s mother cut in, ¡°that you wouldn¡¯t encourage her.¡± ¡°What? When?¡± James asked, feigning surprise. ¡°Mom, would you fucking *listen* to yourself for once?¡± El bit out, the words of an old argument pushing James and Anesh to the sidelines. ¡°I *know* you¡¯re just pretending so everything can be normal! I don¡¯t care! Normal isn¡¯t real! You-¡° And then her words were drowned out, mixed up, and made incomprehensible, as El¡¯s mom entered the conversation like a verbal tempest. James and Anesh scooted their chairs backward as the mother and daughter screamed at each other. ¡°Should we do something about this?¡± Anesh whispered. ¡°Like what? El¡¯s already shot me once, I don¡¯t need a repeat of that experience.¡± ¡°We could explain¡­¡± Anesh trailed off as El¡¯s mother shouted something about Eleanor not living up to her potential. ¡°...yeah, nevermind.¡± They waited, both of them trying to find literally anything to focus on aside from the ongoing fight. James was in the middle of reading the carving on a black and white cat clock hanging on the kitchen wall, flexing his upgraded eyesight to its limit, when El announced ¡°Oh fuck this!¡±, grabbed the bacon off her plate, and stormed out of the room, her mother in hot pursuit. ¡°Do we¡­¡± ¡°Wait for it.¡± James held up a hand. ¡°She¡¯s pissed, but still not dressed. I don¡¯t feel like El¡¯s the kind of person who¡¯s interested in going dungeon delving sans-underpants.¡± ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been here for five years now, and I still don¡¯t get why you call them underpants and not just pants?¡± Anesh masked his nervousness under light conversation. ¡°Also ¡®shorts¡¯ is a weird word too, now that I think about it.¡± ¡°Take it up with Sarah.¡± James instructed him. ¡°Alright, I hear stairs. Let¡¯s go out the back porch and loop around.¡± The two of them slid the old glass patio door open and ducked out, closing it quickly so as not to let what little cool air the AC had provided out of the house. It was already warming up, even at this hour that James thought of as ¡®early¡¯ and everyone else thought of as ¡®almost lunch¡¯. Dry grass crunched underfoot as they circled around the house, James carefully unlatching an old wooden gate that could give someone splinters just by being near it for too long. They got to the driveway just in time for James¡¯ prediction to be close to perfect. El, now wearing actual clothing and heavy boots, backpack thrown over one shoulder, practically kicked the front door open and stomped out, still followed by her mother who was doing her best to yell her daughter into agreeing with her. Which was never going to work. James and El were barely even at the stage of ¡®we can work together I guess¡¯, and he already knew that this was just not a functional way to talk to the girl. Especially not when she was already extra pissed that she was limited in what she could say when it came to details anyway. ¡°This is the most awkward thing I¡¯ve ever experienced.¡± Anesh muttered in James¡¯ ear, leaning his head onto his partner¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I am five hundred percent uncomfortable.¡± ¡°Is that a mathematical measurement?¡± James asked as the mother and daughter continued their verbal brawl. ¡°Yes. Are we doing anything here?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°I¡¯m on it.¡± James stepped backward into the street, taking a deep breath of hot afternoon air. He stretched his arms out as his sides, fingers spread wide, and reached something immaterial inside himself. ¡°Hoy!¡± He shouted, commanding voice cutting through the familial fight. ¡°I¡¯ve got a partial solution to this!¡± El and her mother both snapped their eyes around to focus on him, and for a second, James almost hesitated as the anger they¡¯d been pointing at each other was suddenly directed at him, even if El did reign it in after a short period. ¡°This isn¡¯t-¡° El¡¯s mother started to say. But James didn¡¯t listen. He had her attention. And as he grabbed onto the power inside him, he also crouched down and made contact with the asphalt. And then, he took control of it. There were a few schools of thought on using the blue orbs¡¯ absorption powers. Different people in the Order all had different ideas on what the best way to make use of them actually was. For some, it was a straightforward thing; the orbs did something, and you could do that thing. But they were unimaginative. Some people thought that physical contact with your target made it easier, some people found motions helped guide the powers - especially the manipulation ones - and other members believed that every use was an exchange and by offering more of your own health, you could get more done. The one thing they all seemed to agree on was that the effects molded to thoughts. And so, focus, and creativity, and the ability to truly picture what you wanted, helped. All of them were probably partially right. But the Order had some stuff going on, so they hadn¡¯t tested anything. James wasn¡¯t great at visualizing what he was after. But thanks to multiple purple orb enhancements, keeping his brain focused on a task wasn¡¯t that hard. The asphalt under his fingers shifted. It didn¡¯t liquify, but it flowed like water. Mentally, he marked out a circle around him, and sliced a thin line through it, separating the local asphalt from the rest of the road - again, they didn¡¯t know if it helped, but James figured if he had to pull on less matter it would be easier - and then, standing up, he brought two twisting spirals of pavement with him under the palms of his hands. He pivoted, using his hand as a guiding point for where he wanted the material to move, and with the burning charge of the blue power still active, it obeyed. James moved his arm in a loop, and then again at the elbow, pulling a streamer of pavement up into a large spiral, suspended in the air at heat height by a pair of thin struts still connected to the ground. With his other hand, he simply pulled up and tried to envision the black material blooming like a flower. It half worked, but the arrangement of alien spikes coming out in a ball on top of the spire wasn¡¯t like any flower found on Earth. And then the charge ended, and James was left standing at the end of a driveway with his rapidly assembled art installation and piece of evidence. ¡°*Magic*.¡± He stated simply. ¡°Now can everyone calm the hell down?¡± James asked in an irritated tone. Anesh fished a tissue out of his pocket and passed it over. ¡°Your nose is bleeding.¡± He said. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°What¡­ what¡­ how¡­¡± El¡¯s mother stood open mouthed, staring at the statuary now blocking her driveway. ¡°How did you do that?¡± El sighed. ¡°Magic, mom.¡± She said, the anger in her voice not completely gone. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have just opened with that?¡± She asked James. ¡°I was having breakfast.¡± He defended himself. ¡°Look. We¡¯ve got bigger problems than this. El, we need to talk about actual tactical problems. There¡¯s something wrong in this town, and we need to break that hostile infomorph you¡¯ve got in your head. And I want to finish my coffee. So, while it¡¯s clear you and your mom have some issues to work out, can we please deal with the bigger problems first?¡± The elder of the Chase women nodded absently. ¡°Go talk to your friends, Eleanor.¡± She said, stepping forward to run a hand over the shaped asphalt still warm in the sun. ¡°We can talk later.¡± ¡°Not even an apology.¡± El muttered, stomping into the house, with James following. Anesh followed as well, but before he did, he addressed El¡¯s mom. ¡°Uh¡­ I can put that back before we go.¡± He said. ¡°So your car isn¡¯t boxed in.¡± Anesh waited, but didn¡¯t get any kind of response from her, so he just nodded politely and followed James and El. Awkward. Not impossible, for him. And he didn¡¯t have the anxiety that James had to cope with. But still. Awkward was by its nature not very fun to be in the middle of. _____ ¡°Emergency Response, are you in immediate danger?¡± Marcus recited the words calmly. As calmly as possible, anyway. Two years voulenteering at the Suicide Prevention Hotline, and a lifetime living in what other people would call ¡®a bad part of town¡¯, had left him capable of faking calm at the worst of times. And working here certainly wasn¡¯t the worst of times. He was one of three ¡®new¡¯ operators. New, despite having more experience with this sort of thing than half the people here. But also new because he wasn¡¯t a mother fucking superhero yet. And it was the ¡°yet¡± part that really got him to sign on. It was the experience, a recommendation from a local activist friend, and already speaking two and a half languages, that got him the invite in the first place. ¡°Um¡­ I don¡¯t think so?¡± The voice on the other end of the line said. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I called the right place, actually.¡± Marcus noted that down in the fresh form on his screen. This kind of call wasn¡¯t uncommon. He checked a script he hadn¡¯t fully memorized yet. ¡°Well ma¡¯am, we provide rapid emergency response options for immediate danger, medical transport, and mental health crisis.¡± He wanted to snicker every time he read the word ¡®rapid¡¯. ¡°Are any of those what you were calling for?¡± ¡°Oh. Oh no, I was...calling because I think I found your cat?¡± The woman paused. ¡°The big cat.¡± She ¡®explained¡¯. Marcus raised his eyebrows and looked around at the other operators in the room, along with one on call response unit. Was he being pranked? And if so, was it by someone in here? The boss was right over there, taking calls like the rest of them, so it *probably* wasn¡¯t some kind of hazing thing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry ma¡¯am, I don¡¯t think you have the right number. No one here has lost a cat.¡± Marcus said politely. Across the room, Harvey¡¯s head pivoted like it was on a swivel. ¡°Oh. Damn, sorry.¡± The woman sighed nervously. ¡°I was hoping this was how I could get in touch with Deb. I never got contact info. Are you sure you¡¯re not...um¡­¡± ¡°Ah, hang on one second.¡° Marcus looked over at Harvey waving at him. ¡°I think my boss wants to talk to you? No, he¡¯s busy. I don¡¯t know why¡­ wait, Deb. Can you describe her?¡± Marcus actually did know there was a Deb who sometimes worked as an on-call member of response, though she was an older member of this weird ¡®Order¡¯. ¡°Oh, short dark hair, kind of a commanding voice. Um¡­ her girlfriend is kind of a snake?¡± The other voice on the phone answered. Well there weren¡¯t many options for *that*, unless it was a very specific metaphor. ¡°Okay, you have the right place.¡± Marcus confirmed. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I¡¯m new here and don¡¯t have a script for *this*. And the boss is busy coordinating something. So this might be weird, but,¡± He cleared his throat and pitched his voice again to that ¡®polite operator¡¯ mode. ¡°Thank you for calling the Order of Endless Rooms. What do you need?¡± ¡°Well, I found a cat, like I said. I kind of assumed it was yours, but if not, maybe you could figure out what to do with it? I don¡¯t really have space for it in my clinic.¡± ¡°Is your clinic small?¡± Marcus asked, wincing as he felt like he already knew the answer. ¡°No, the cat¡¯s just the size of a truck. And invisible.¡± ¡°Of course it is.¡± He nodded, typing in ¡®giant cat¡¯ to his form. ¡°Sorry, what was your name?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, Dr. Amy Morris. Veterinary doctor, but I¡¯ve worked on some people before.¡± She added, sounding a little self conscious. Marcus split his attention in half, years of experience reading while on a call letting him pull up and search through the operations manual while he listened. ¡°Ah, here we go. I guess this is a thing someone already¡­¡± He went silent as he read the entry. Specifically, the part about the threat assessment. ¡°Seriously? What?¡± ¡°Is everything okay?¡± Amy asked. ¡°I feel like I should be asking you that. Are you sure you don¡¯t need immediate help?¡± ¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s alright. He¡¯s asleep right now, after I fed him. He¡¯s been here a few days, I just didn¡¯t know how to get in touch.¡± The vet replied. ¡°I just figured you¡¯d have a better place for him?¡± ¡°I¡­ uh¡­¡± Marcus floundered. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m gonna be real with you. I¡¯ve been helping people get to hospitals and escape abusive partners. I¡¯m sorta unprepared for this. Do we have a giant cat tree here or something? I don¡¯t even know how many basements this building has.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Dr. Morris¡¯ voice was dejected. ¡°I just thought¡­¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t get me wrong. You called the right place, apparently. Let me just get in touch with someone who¡¯s here with more authority than me, and I can get you an actual phone number to call. Do you mind giving me contact information, and we can call you back in the near future?¡± Marcus glanced at the main screen. There was another call incoming. ¡°I don¡¯t have much time right now.¡± ¡°Oh, right! Emergency line.¡± He could almost feel the woman nodding on the other end. She rapidly provided him a phone number, which he marked down. And then, without hesitation, added, ¡°Thank you. And good luck!¡± And hung up. Marcus didn¡¯t have much time to think about how weird that interaction had been, even by his expanding standard of what counted as ¡®weird¡¯. One click filed the form and brought up a fresh one. Another click answered the inbound call. ¡°Emergency response. Are you in immediate danger?¡± He intoned. ¡°Y-yes.¡± The boy¡¯s voice on the other end gasped. ¡°My leg. I hurt my leg.¡± Marcus projected calm. No matter how stressful the situation, no matter how panicked the caller, he had to stay calm, or it all just got worse. So he did. ¡°What is your location?¡± Simple questions. Keep the kid talking. What city? What state? Yes, really. Fill out a telepad while talking. Double check. How¡¯d you get hurt? Check for local hospitals. No alliances in that area, land in the parking lot. Fill out the second page. Is anyone there with you? Signal one of the two-person medical teams. Pass off the telepad. ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± Marcus said as he watched the team vanish out of the operations center. ¡°Help is on the way.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± The kid gasped out. ¡°I¡¯m in the middle of nowhere.¡± He sounded on the verge of tears, if he wasn¡¯t already crying. ¡°Yeah.¡± Marcus replied. And then he got to say the line that was his favorite part of this job. ¡°That¡¯s not a problem for us. We¡¯re already there.¡± There would be two more calls before he *really* had time to sit and be very concerned about the truck sized invisible cat. And once again, the boundary of what ¡®just another day at work¡¯ meant got pushed farther out. _____ El was buried in her closet when James pushed the half open door to her bedroom the rest of the way open and stepped in. Anesh just loitered in the doorway. The place was a mess. Whatever hard work El¡¯s mom had done in her absence had long since been undone. El was *not* an organized person, at the best of times. In times of stress, when she retreated into painting to focus away from whatever was making her nervous or angry, she was certainly not even close to the kind of person who cared about clutter, or making the bed. Or paint on the walls. ¡°Here.¡± She said, shuffling backward out from under a closet shelf before popping back up on her knees, twisting her torso around to toss a shoebox onto her bed. The box impacted a half empty gallon jug of raspberry iced tea, and slid to the floor, but the lid didn¡¯t pop off and James politely set it back on a more topographically stable part of the blankets without comment. ¡°Okay. Do the voodoo on me so I can explain this shit.¡± James rolled the purple orb in his pocket around at the same time he rolled his eyes at El. ¡°First off, don¡¯t call it that, it¡¯s impolite.¡± ¡°No one here cares, or is religious. Do your Professor X impression.¡± ¡°*Second of all*.¡± James continued unabated. ¡°We actually need to talk about what it means to implant an infomorph in a person.¡± El sighed, and threw herself onto one of the few clear parts of her bed, flopping with a dramatic thud, boots hitting on the hardwood floor. ¡°Alright, whatever. Is this gonna be about how I have to be ¡®responsible¡¯ and ¡®ethical¡¯ and stuff?¡± ¡°Yeah, actually.¡± A bite of anger entered James¡¯ voice. ¡°It is. Because you do. El, I¡¯m not gonna fucking leave you with a living creature in your care if you¡¯re going to treat it like a tool. And if you keep acting like that, I honestly am gonna stop giving a single fuck about your current predicament.¡± James glared at her, not flinching away from El raising one arm off the bed to flip him off. ¡°As of now, Anesh and I are here as advanced scouts to determine if your *entire town is being eaten alive*. It doesn¡¯t matter how much magic or insider info you can offer us, you are not that important. So if you want help, maybe act like a goddamn adult, and not an angry teenager.¡± It was a little mean. But James hadn¡¯t slept much. And what sleep he had gotten was a bit spoiled, for some reason. And if being angry was what it took to get through to El, then that was just a bonus. Because James was rapidly running out of the patience it took to keep his anger in check. It wasn¡¯t much of a secret, but James was angry almost all the time. The world *disappointed* him. People could be so much better. And they either had their opportunities to show that cut away, pushed down by poverty and methods of control, or¡­ or they were the ones with their hands on the controls. And for most of his life, like everyone else, James accepted that it was too much for him to do anything about, because that was more or less *true*. So he put on a smile, played games with his friends, cracked jokes, and ignored the ongoing dystopia that was way more boring than the ones he got to fight back against in tabletop RPGs. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Of course, now he could teleport, which sort of made it hard to pretend he couldn¡¯t start improving things. El sat back up, swinging her arms for leverage to push herself forward and look at James. She didn¡¯t look happy. But, something about how he was looking at her made her feel like she was back in elementary school, having a stern teacher who clearly cared explain why it wasn¡¯t kind of her to throw rocks at frogs. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± She said. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna be that jerk. What do I need to know?¡± The tension eased. ¡°Okay.¡± James stopped subconsciously gritting his teeth. ¡°Three things. First off, a nascent infomorph isn¡¯t alive. I¡¯ll do exactly what it¡¯s meant to do, and basically nothing else. If you let it, then it will just fade away after a month or two, never having been alive. I¡¯m aware this might sound hypocritical, but until that point, it *is* a tool. The thing here is, this one is going to eat the other one in your head, if it wins. And it¡¯ll live longer, and it *might* become a person. What happens then is kind of up to you. You¡¯ll experience it, in flashes of feelings and dreams. And if you push yourself, and figure out what language it¡¯s speaking, you can make contact.¡± ¡°And then?¡± El asked. She¡¯d pulled her legs up, sitting half off her bed, hands holding her boots by the toes. SItting like a student, listening and absorbing. ¡°And then, you can talk. And help them grow. Into whoever they¡¯ll be.¡± Anesh commented from his place leaning on the doorframe. ¡°There¡¯s a few infomorphs in the Order. They like us, for some reason.¡± ¡°Ah, that¡¯s just because none of them have gotten hired at Jamba Juice yet and moved out with their friends.¡± James waved him off. El tilted her head. ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Yeah, Jamba Juice is always doing interviews, but never hiring.¡± ¡°No, you fuckhole. The thing about them moving out. They can do that?¡± She threw a pillow at him, hard enough to know she meant it, but not so fast that James didn¡¯t duck to the side and snatch it out of the air before it slammed into one of her empty easels. ¡°Yeah. Eventually, they¡¯ll be strong enough to do that. It¡¯ll be between you two. That¡¯s how relationships work, El.¡± He said, almost sadly. ¡°Now, ready?¡± She didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Hit me.¡± James nodded, and pulled the orb out, holding it up in the light between his thumb and first two fingers. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of bacon still wafting from downstairs and the excessive number of paint tubes El had scattered across her floor. It wasn¡¯t hard to dip back into the mindset. The words were still there, and it wasn¡¯t like using a blue or absorbing any of the orbs. Some of the power effects from Officium Mundi needed emotions, a feeling, a *vibe*. Some things, like the totems, needed strict adherence to geometric rules. And some things, well¡­ Sometimes you just had to know what to say. ¡°No interference with freedom of communication.¡± James spoke. Paraphrasing, perhaps, but capturing the essence of a document that had been around since before he was born. The orb turned in his hand, shifting from a solid object to a starfield of potential. And with a small mental nudge, flipping a switch that had always been there but he hadn¡¯t been able to see, James shoved it forward, toward El. The distortion in the air slipped into the girl sitting on the bed without any kind of fanfare or obstacle. That was just how these infomorphs were; you either got out of the way, or they got in your head. Humans just didn¡¯t have a natural defense against them. ¡°Now what?¡± El asked. ¡°Now nothing. It either works, or it doesn¡¯t.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot more purple orbs in the trunk, though. So if it works at all, we can just bury the thing in attempts and go from there.¡± ¡°Very Stalingrad.¡± Anesh added. ¡°Try it out. What¡¯s in the box?¡± He inclined his head toward the shoebox on the bed. ¡°Oh, map scraps from the dungeon.¡± El said easily. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, one of the ones you two have will line up to something in here.¡± She popped the lid off, revealing an inch thick layer of assorted scraps of paper. James didn¡¯t let anything show on his face as he said, ¡°Why¡¯s that? Some kind of reward?¡± ¡°Yup. It¡¯s where spells come from.¡± El nodded. Then, she froze mid nod, and looked down at her hands. ¡°Oh shit.¡± She said. ¡°That worked fast. Holy crap. It worked! Yes!¡± She hopped off the bed, throwing a punch at an invisible target. ¡°Take that, you fucking brain worm! Haha! Yes! Now, time for wizard shit! You got your map chunks?¡± James couldn¡¯t help but share an empathetic laugh, letting El¡¯s enthusiasms for her abruptly loosened tongue get to him. ¡°Yeah, yeah. So, how do we split these?¡± ¡°Oh, easy. Whoever found the newest one gets it.¡± El gave an easy shrug. ¡°It¡¯s fair, and it balances out over time. And it¡¯s just a good rule.¡± James and Anesh both went quiet, and shared a look between themselves that went unnoticed by El. The question, shared with sad quirks of eyebrows, was ¡®and how would you know it was a rule, without someone to make rules with¡¯. But El was too happy to notice, or probably give a shit. She started laying out the map bits, and rambling off random facts about her favorite extradimensional stomping ground as the three of them compared names and geography. Not even to be helpful, just to experience how nice it was to finally talk about it. ¡°Sometimes, there¡¯s trains, off in the distance. I¡¯ve never seen any tracks, but there¡¯s absolutely trains. I¡¯ve been considering getting something that¡¯s good for off road, and checking it out. But the place obviously doesn¡¯t want anyone going off the highway, right? You know the caltrops disguised as gravel? There¡¯s more of that out there. Just random strips of it in the desert. I tried walking as far as I could once, but didn¡¯t find anything aside from that and some plants. The place is kind of stupidly obvious about how it pushes you into driving.¡± James and Anesh barely had any control of the conversation. They were mostly focused on trying to find matches anyway, places where, El openly told them, the maps lined up. Didn¡¯t have to be at the same scale, or even fit together very well. They just had to overlap where they were showing. So they let her talk with only occasional prompting while they scanned. ¡°Those ghost cars can get on the road. *Real* pain in the ass. They¡¯ll follow basically forever. And you might have noticed, but there aren¡¯t a lot of places to hide or make turnoffs, so if one gets on your tail, you¡¯re in it for the long haul until you get to an on-ramp. Oh! There¡¯s highways, too! Or at least, big fucking snarls of road that the on ramps go up to. I think they¡¯re some kind of long range teleporters, but I¡¯ve never gone too far in one except to dodge a tail.¡± Anesh had exactly one question, toward the end of their double checking, and El had an easy answer for it. ¡°Oh yeah, the pet- the *gas* heals cars. And don¡¯t infect me with your weird slang.¡± ¡°First of all, all slang is weird.¡± James addressed her. ¡°I¡¯ve heard teenagers say ¡®fleek¡¯ before, and I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s frowned upon by the Bible. Second of all, so far everything we¡¯ve infected you with has made you pretty happy. Third, related to that, you feeling okay?¡± ¡°Bit of a headache, kinda dizzy.¡± She admitted. ¡°Probably because I didn¡¯t eat breakfast. But I can say anything, so I¡¯m good. Thanks.¡± El paused, then furrowed her eyebrows. ¡°Wait¡­¡± ¡°Oh, worried I¡¯m being too nice.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m gonna go eat, and then, do you want to go try the road again tonight?¡± ¡°Yeah. I need a better feel for it.¡± James said. ¡°I can tell something¡¯s wrong out here, but I can¡¯t track it down. Also maybe we can find some map bits that actually match up.¡± ¡°Would be cool to be a real wizard.¡± Anesh added. James ruffled his partner¡¯s hair. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll see you outside. Gonna go put the road back together. El¡­ eh. Glad the infomorph worked.¡± He strolled off, taking the stairs down two at a time. Anesh heard him offer a polite farewell to El¡¯s mom who was absolutely eavesdropping at the bottom of the stairs. ¡°I forgot that he can be angry sometimes.¡± She told Anesh, shoveling the bits of random maps back into the box. ¡°Yeah, well, he probably forgot that you can be a bit of a shit.¡± He told her with a dry tone, accent highlighting the last four words. The look of indignation on her face made it worth it, even if the line of profanity riddled threats she threw after Anesh as he headed down the stairs did come true. _____ There was a common misconception about the FBI, that they were mostly staffed by some sort of secret agent. Stealthing around, uncovering secrets and plots, getting into gunfights with foreign spies. Romancing their rivals, wearing sunglasses, assassinating highly threatening targets, and driving cool cars. Being glamorous and dangerous in equal measure. The usual. It was mostly bullshit. Partially because it was mostly the CIA that had the assassins. The myth had been started around the time the FBI had caught a notorious serial killer back in the 70s or 80s, as near as Nate knew the story that got passed around to new recruits. They¡¯d used modern - for the time - tricks, such as ¡°actually thinking about the killer¡¯s motives¡± and ¡°following evidence¡±, and as a result, TV and movies for the last forty years had painted the agents of the bureau as unstoppable super geniuses. The reality was, Nate empathized more with the half an episode of the X-Files he¡¯d seen once than any other piece of media. A big chunk of the bureau was analysts. The people who used the magic of the human brain to make connections between police records, social trends, legal wiretap records, illegal wiretap records, and, yes, people¡¯s Twitter accounts, to keep an eye on whether anyone was planning to blow up any government buildings. Another big chunk was made up of people way smarter than Nate, who had the unenviable job of taking the processed data from the analysts, and turning it into security reports that congressmen and presidents would fail to read properly before making decisions. They *had* field agents, yes. A lot of them were specialists, like hostage crisis negotiators. Some of them, like Nate, had been actually intel gatherers. Though that was giving Nate himself a lot of credit he maybe didn¡¯t deserve. Nate¡¯s job had, largely, been to join Neo-Nazi gangs, and just hang out while he wrote down names and home addresses. And it was comically easy for him to get membership. He was a well muscled, inked, bald guy who was ex-navy and had the high qualification of ¡®being very white¡¯. Nate didn¡¯t get offended by much, but he was vaguely insulted by how stupid a lot of the guys he ¡®spied on¡¯ were. His job had mostly been just drinking beer, keeping his mouth shut, and trying to figure out if the cops who came to these meetings were undercover or ¡®undercover¡¯, until his superiors had what they considered adequate information, before moving on to the next wannabe insurgency. And then, the Order happened. And suddenly, Nate had a job trying to train up people to be intelligence operatives. A job that he had never really had, and didn¡¯t fully understand. But that everyone seemed to think he was the most qualified for, and that alarmingly, he almost was. So he¡¯d started teaching what he could. It wasn¡¯t like he was an idiot; he¡¯d done two tours of duty in parts of the world that asked people to adapt or die. And he passed on what he knew best to the aspirants that JP brought to their doorstep. How to fight, how to run, how to keep calm and figure out which one to do at what time. How to gather information. He¡¯d tried to mimic how the Bureau kept information segmented, too, but that was never going to work here, so instead, they started building something new. Communication protocols, ways to collaborate at the speeds they needed to. They¡¯d been working at it for months, and they were getting better at it. But a lot of these kids - and Nate did think of them as kids - were mid twenties, too eager, and he felt like they¡¯d never really be ready to be let off on their own. And yet. For all that he was complaining in his head, sometimes working for the Order had distinct advantages. Advantages that felt like, well¡­ cheating. Nate moved toward the front of the chemical refinery, casually approaching the check in post to the parking lot. Calling it a guard post would be generous; it was a chain link fence that rolled back to let cars in while a security guard checked people in. He was on foot, flanked by Bill, the two of them moving about seven feet apart from each other. The generally accepted range for what one of the shield bracers could cover. Nate had a skulljack braid clipped to a spot under his collar, running off his phone¡¯s connection to give him a view in the corner of his eye of the overhead angle that the drones that were out could see. The visual wasn¡¯t really ¡®in his eye¡¯, exactly. But it helped to think of it that way. Just like it helped to think that he looked cool wearing glasses that didn¡¯t quite fit his head and didn¡¯t have prescription lenses. The glasses were the part that felt like cheating. ¡°Yo!¡± Nate called out to the two guys who were trying really hard to look like they were casually lounging in the guard shack. There was a trick to casually lounging in a way that didn¡¯t look fake. If you ever watched a movie where there were guards ¡®relaxing¡¯, it was pretty obvious to a lot of people that they were acting. Because they were, they were actors. But you could spoof it well enough that most people couldn¡¯t notice. These guys were good, but not good enough when someone knew what to look for. Of course, Nate knew what to look for, because he¡¯d watched these two through a scope while they incapacitated and replaced the actual guards. And then let a dozen of their friends into the facility. Nate wasn¡¯t actually that into violence. He was good at it, but it wasn¡¯t fun. Which was why their team had no actual interest in starting a fight here, and he¡¯d pulled up in a delivery truck. There was altogether way too much shit happening at this facility to *ever* make him stick his neck into it. It didn¡¯t matter that they had a reasonable idea of how to get into its dungeon, or that the Old Gun was poking around the edges, or that it was a big enough deal that some kind of secret army was invading it. They were here for exactly one reason, and then to bail the entire operation out of this state until things calmed down. And that was to see who the hell these guys were. Because the glasses that showed group affiliation didn¡¯t work at long range. ¡°Got seven packages today.¡± Nate said, stepping up to the fence like he owned the place and flipping the clipboard with an irresponsibly fraudulent shipping manifest on it around to the guards. ¡°You guys wanna-¡± ¡°Not taking delivery today.¡± One of them said, stepping out of the guard shack. The accent was hard for Nate to place. Thick, slow, almost Russian, but with an intimidating tone that any supervillain would be happy to have in a henchman. It matched the wide frame and polished bald head of the man who¡¯d stepped out. ¡°Chemical spill.¡± He lied. ¡°Return tomorrow.¡± Nate was only half listening. Because he was processing visual input from a few sources, and one of them was a pair of ill-fitting glasses showing him the words ¡°Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack, Enforcer¡±. A glance through the door of the guard shack got a similar tag on the other one too. ¡°Aw, fuck.¡± Nate said out loud, voice more modulated for professional disappointment than secret agent concern. ¡°Boss¡¯s gonna hate that. But whatever, not my problem. You mind signing off?¡± He asked, flipping to a separate page they¡¯d prepared for literally this exact situation. The guard didn¡¯t speak, just silently accepted the pen and scrawled something that wasn¡¯t going to be close to his name on the line at the bottom. ¡°Leave now. Not safe.¡± He lied again in that same heavy voice. ¡°Yeah, yeah. You guys stay safe yourselves, yeah?¡± Nate was already walking away, swatting Bill on the shoulder to get him moving too. Back to the truck, pause for a bit to make it look good poking away at the GPS. Then pull away. On a hill a half mile away, Mars saw their truck moving, and recalled the drone swarm from its overhead sentry duty. Half an hour later, after taking a few deliberately awkward traffic maneuvers they¡¯d planned in advance, and confirming they weren¡¯t being followed, Nate pulled the truck up to a wide field empty of everything except unmowed kentucky bluegrass and weeds. And about a dozen other members of the Order. After Mars pulled up in his own rental car, they were all there, even the camracondas. Nate felt nervous about the snakes being out in the open like this in the middle of the day, but it wasn¡¯t like there was anywhere safer in this city. ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± Dave asked as Nate and Bill walked up. ¡°Those guys were *scary*.¡± Bill commented. ¡°Am I wrong here, or did that brother seem like he was ready to kill us both?¡± He asked Nate. ¡°You are not wrong.¡± Nate said. ¡°I get the feeling they had some big guns just out of sight there. Mars, how¡¯d it look?¡± He asked the approaching engineer and their resident drone operator. ¡°Weren¡¯t you watching?¡± The kid asked. Not in a snarky way, like Nate had come to expect from half of the people he worked with. Just curious. ¡°I was busy. So. Anything?¡± ¡°They¡¯ve got two big trucks pulled up around the back, like we saw go in. A couple of guys waiting there. The drones we have don¡¯t have super high zoom yet - I¡¯ll fix that later - but I¡¯m pretty sure they were just openly carrying rifles. No signs of any of the actual employees inside, or the rest of them. And the place just doesn¡¯t have enough big buildings that there¡¯s too many places without windows to spot through.¡± ¡°Yeah, alright. I¡¯m calling it.¡± Nate said. ¡°We¡¯re out. Everyone make sure all our gear is accounted for, we¡¯re porting back in ten.¡± ¡°Wait wait wait.¡± Dave crossed his arms in an X of denial. ¡°We¡¯re just gonna let them get away with that? What if they kill the employees?¡± ¡°First off, we are not trained for this.¡± Nate reminded him. ¡°We¡¯ve got three camracondas and five shield bracers here. They¡¯ve got twenty dudes with assault rifles. And they are so *obviously* here for the dungeon, that there¡¯s no chance they *only* have guns. If we go in, trying to be heroes, we¡¯re just going to get the hostages and ourselves shot.¡± He shook his head. ¡°No, this is the one thing a trained SWAT team is good for. We call it in, make it someone else¡¯s problem, and we stay out of it. We¡¯ve got a name to go on now, which is more than we had earlier. We¡¯re not sticking around.¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t want to get shot at again.¡± Deb offered, hand resting on Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s head. ¡°Especially not over a dungeon that will probably also try to shoot at us.¡± ¡°How do you figure?¡± Dave asked. She shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s just how today¡¯s been going.¡± ¡°Alright. Get the telepads ready. Leave the rental cars, I¡¯ll deal with those later.¡± Nate gave out commands, and the rest of them moved into position. The Order didn¡¯t do ranks that well, but they were smart about operations like this; he was in charge, and that meant his call was the one that counted. ¡°Let¡¯s go home, and worry about one of the other ongoing problems for a while.¡± He said. Two telepads tore off, and twelve people bailed out of a situation that had spiraled well beyond their control. _____ ¡°Alright, yeah. This town is messed up.¡± James said bitterly. He was sitting curled in the passenger seat of their car, knees up on the dashboard, as he balanced a laptop on his stomach. Anesh was trying to take a nap, maximizing the moonless summer night and making up for some of his lost sleep before they ventured into the dungeon again. It wasn¡¯t working. ¡°We have spent.¡± He said, without opening his eyes. ¡°All day. Wandering around. And *now* you have decided something is wrong.¡± ¡°Yeah. Because I¡¯ve been googling statistics and comparing youtube videos and stuff.¡± James answered, popping out one of his headphones. Anesh sighed. Half an hour before El showed up, supposedly, and he knew beyond any doubt that he wasn¡¯t going to get any sleep by then. He reached down and adjusted the driver¡¯s seat, turning his makeshift bed back into a chair. ¡°What statistics.¡± He asked. ¡°Census stuff, mostly. But also things like business foot traffic in different population density areas. I¡¯m trying to figure out, basically, if the number of people we saw in, like, the grocery store, is appropriate for a town like this.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And it absolutely isn¡¯t.¡± James concluded. ¡°There just flat out aren¡¯t enough people here, even considering the pandemic, even if a third of them moved away. Which leaves only a few options.¡± Anesh took a shot in the dark. ¡°High murder rate? Downrange of a nuclear test site? Homeowners associations?¡± ¡°No to all of¡­ no to *at least* most of those!¡± James replied. ¡°I actually checked for environmental factors. I¡¯ve been flipping through the local newspaper, which is all online now, which is handy. Nothing really seems to have changed, except that there¡¯s only two people left actually writing articles. Which might be normal. No, no. This is dungeon nonsense.¡± ¡°A whole city, though?¡± Anesh shivered. ¡°We¡¯ve seen dungeons, or the things in them, kidnap groups of people before, but not *thousands of people*. And *no one* here has noticed?¡± ¡°El¡¯s mom noticed there were fewer people. She just assumed that meant people were moving away.¡± James pointed out. Anesh hated this. ¡°I hate this.¡± He said. ¡°How are we supposed to fight something that can eat the population of a whole city? How¡¯s it even doing it?! Officium Mundi can send out agents, is that what the road¡¯s doing? Just dragging people back one by one?¡± ¡°Thaaaaat doesn¡¯t actually make sense.¡± James wrinkled his forehead. ¡°Yeah, actually, you raise a good point. Because there are cities around this size with alarmingly high murder rates, and *they* aren¡¯t losing population like this one is.¡± ¡°I know asking this will fill me with regret,¡± Anesh massaged his temples with his fingertips, ¡°but how many people would a hypothetical dungeon have to kill to actually make the population go down?¡± ¡°For a population of twenty thousand people, like here? Seven to eight hundred a year.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a couple people a day. Someone, *someone*, would notice. What¡¯s the population actually dropped by?¡± James hummed. ¡°Well, it¡¯s actually hard to say.¡± He admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to make an educated guess, based on how many people are physically around, hence the marketing stuff. But the pandemic really messes with estimates, even if it feels like no one here is taking it seriously. But thanks to the magic of ¡®online realtor services¡¯, I¡¯ve got an idea of how many homes are for sale around here, and I¡¯m gonna guess - *guess*, mind you - that this place currently has about five thousand people in it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s three quarters of the population, gone.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t know how to process that. ¡°That¡¯s insane. That¡­ fifteen thousand people?¡± ¡°Seventeen thousand, give or take. Assuming my guess is close.¡± James confirmed. ¡°All dead. Eaten by the dungeon.¡± ¡°Well *that¡¯s the thing*.¡± He slapped the laptop shut and sat up, shuffling his feet back into his shoes. ¡°I feel like that would have attracted *some* notice. And a lot of the homes for sale around here? They¡¯re for sale by owner. El¡¯s mom wasn¡¯t wrong! People are just leaving.¡± ¡°Not dead.¡± ¡°Well, I mean, they might be dead.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I haven¡¯t checked everyone.¡± Anesh glared at his nominal boyfriend. ¡°You¡¯re a real downer today, huh?¡± ¡°I¡¯m tired, there¡¯s *something* going on here, and I¡¯ve spent all day being kinda mad at El.¡± James replied. ¡°She really got to you, huh?¡± James sighed. ¡°She¡¯s just¡­ ugh. She doesn¡¯t care. I¡¯m honestly prepared to accept that the reason she doesn''t remember her team is because she just doesn¡¯t make friends cause she¡¯s an abrasive jerk.¡± ¡°Harsh.¡± Anesh checked the rear view mirror again, looking for any sign of the abrasive jerk they were supposed to be meeting. ¡°It¡¯s tiring. Like Sarah levels of energy, but packed into someone I don¡¯t get along with.¡± James shrugged. ¡°And I¡¯m worried that no matter what we get out of this delve, we¡¯re not going to be able to solve this problem. We just don¡¯t have the tools for it.¡± The problem was, there was really only so much they could actually *do* here. He¡¯d agreed to come out here to help El because she thought something was wrong, and something *was* wrong. But what was happening was either the most ravenous dungeon ever, chewing through the population of a town - as well as a good chunk of thru-traffic, if the number of abandoned cars at their motel were any indication - with complete disregard for attracting attention, *or*, it was something else that was just encouraging people to fuck off and not come back. Either way, James wasn¡¯t actually equipped to deal with that kind of thing. They knew that dungeons were vulnerable to damage, *somehow*, but not how to actually deal that damage. He was perfectly capable of rescuing survivors, but not changing mass trends on a whim. He had a couple tricks, a kind of impossibly valuable logistical edge, was planning on picking up a spell or two ¡®tonight¡¯, and also owned a *very* not legal gun. But no matter how high above his weight class he could punch, there wasn¡¯t much of a way to strike at ¡°seemingly legitimate migration patterns.¡± ¡°We need some kind of magic detector.¡± Anesh suggested offhand, checking his phone. ¡°Mmh. Hey, have you checked in with home base lately?¡± James changed the subject, shifting around, uncrossing his arms and peering out the window at a passing raccoon. ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I¡¯m catching up on some stuff now. Have you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been assuming they¡¯d call if they really needed me, so I¡¯m enjoying ¡®vacation¡¯.¡± ¡°Okay, want a rundown?¡± ¡°Hit me.¡± James turned back to face his partner. Anesh cleared his throat and rapidly scrolled through messages. ¡°There¡¯s an invisible mountain in Australia, Research have been recklessly touching artifacts again and have spawned an authority, the last Office delve went fine, a bunch of the kids and some of the camracondas are trying to invent an inter-species sport, and someone found the giant cat.¡± James nodded to all of that, then pressed his fingertips together in front of his face, spread his hands, and asked, ¡°Can you explain any of that?¡± ¡°I could, but El¡¯s here. Oh! Also Nate just sent us a message that you¡¯ll probably see soon; they pulled out of Texas. He made the call that it was too dangerous, and apparently there¡¯s a hostile group there.¡± ¡°A group¡­ like us?¡± James¡¯ breath caught in his throat. Anesh shook his head. ¡°Not in a way that we¡¯d want, if Nate¡¯s right. And I trust him here.¡± ¡°Yeah, me too. Fuck.¡± That was really all there was to say. James would review Nate¡¯s report later; if it was pressing then Nate would have said so. But it sounded like he¡¯d assessed the other group in play, and decided the situation would turn violent too easily. Which was the exact opposite of how James wanted contact with others on their side of the veil to go. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe Nate was just being overly cautious. Maybe this could turn around. But that wasn¡¯t how James¡¯ luck had been going lately. ¡°Yo! You cocks ready to go on a *road trip*?¡± El¡¯s shout cut through the closed windows of their car, the girl leaning out her window to yell their attention onto her. ¡°Do you think she knows we took a road trip just to get here?¡± James asked. ¡°Next time let¡¯s go to the beach on vacation.¡± Anesh suggested. ¡°Oregon¡¯s beaches are cold though.¡± James gave a comical whine. When Anesh just stared at him for a second, he flicked his eyes around them. ¡°What?¡± Anesh didn¡¯t answer verbally, opting instead to pull a telepad out of his coat pocket and wave it around. ¡°Okay, *fine*, we¡¯ll go to the beach.¡± James relented with a laugh. ¡°Let¡¯s go say hi to El before we start this bad idea of a night.¡± The two of them pushed their doors open, letting the cold air conditioned air of their car spill out to the still simmering summer night. James apologizing loudly to the raccoon sent scattering in a panic into the trees by the side of the road. ¡°Okay, so, can you tell us more about breaching the entrance now?¡± James asked her as he and Anesh walked up to her car. El was propped on her elbows out her window, giving them a dangerous grin. ¡°Weirdly, I already told you everything about it.¡± She shrugged, hitting her head lightly on the roof of her own car. ¡°Oh! We¡¯ve gotta watch out for sand goons when we come out. Sometimes they like to hang out by the entrance, when it¡¯s night.¡± ¡°What the hell is¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s four legs of sand, and that¡¯s it. They try to bury you, basically. Easy to outrun though. But they lurk around sometimes.¡± El clarified. James sighed. ¡°Okay. So, our goals are find more maps, get acquainted with the feel of this dungeon so Anesh and I can try to track anything in the real world, don¡¯t die to *sand goons* - good name by the way - and maybe exploit the time dilation to take a nap. Anything else?¡± El nodded, scooting back into her seat and slapping her hands onto the steering wheel. ¡°Sounds good to me. Ready to get this show on the-¡° ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Anesh cut her off with a roll of his eyes. ¡°Can I not don¡¯t?¡± James asked playfully. ¡°Because I was gonna make a joke about getting on the highway to the Danger Zone.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a terrible name.¡± El told him. ¡°Also, I already named this one, so you can¡¯t call it that!¡± James¡¯ eyes lit up, whatever enmity toward El he had forgotten for a second. ¡°Oh yeah! You can tell us what that is now! What *do* you call this dungeon?¡± In her driver¡¯s seat, El flipped a pair of sunglasses down over he eyes and titled her head up to look at James with a wide grin. ¡°Route Predation.¡± She said, before throwing her car into first gear and pulling away with a screech of the tires, shooting toward a line in the ether that her car slipped past effortlessly, vanishing from view in a pale cloud of sand and light. ¡°Fuck.¡± James commented as he and Anesh jogged back to their car to follow, switching sides so he could drive. ¡°That¡¯s pretty good. I¡¯m gonna have a hard time being mad at her for an hour or two now.¡± Chapter 154 ¡°I¡®m not in denial, I¡¯m just selective about the reality I accept¡± -Bill Watterson- _____ The contrast between the roadways of the Midwest and the alien landscape of Route Predation were just as stark the second time as on James¡¯ first excursion here. Twin suns hung overhead, having shifted only slightly from their previous positions, pulling apart from each other and drifting toward opposing horizons. If yesterday, they¡¯d been able to spend half a day here to only minutes outside, then the days and nights here in subjective time must last for years. A cycle stretched so far it would be more like seasons than days to anyone inside it. Around them, the sands stretched as eternally as ever. James tried to spot the splotches of metal burrs that El said were scattered out there, but the shimmering heat of the suns and the way the desert sands blended into each other made that impossible. Instead, he caught glimpses of the occasional scrub brush, the odd jutting rock formation, and sometimes, small movements from the landscape. While the fauna of this place was aggressive and alien in a very harsh way, the vegetation was almost comical. Because James *recognized* it. It was the same plant life he¡¯d been watching out the windshield for a week of travel to get here; yellow and purple flowered weeds and tangled low branches and grass with a level of determined resilience that mocked the gods themselves. And he¡¯d taken the time to check when they¡¯d had a chance earlier; it wasn¡¯t some kind of weird dungeon replica, it was just eternally defiant Earth weeds, digging roots through alien asphalt and otherworldly sand, refusing to give up. James thought it was beautiful. The creatures of his world weren¡¯t so easily turned away by something as small as ¡°relentlessly hostile conditions¡±. And yet, the rest of it, everything else aside from those familiar plants, was so deep in the uncanny valley that the contrast to his recent road trip was forever in the front of his mind. There was no music playing, because they needed to be able to hear anything approaching or whatever El called over the radio. James and Anesh were still making conversation, especially on the longer stretches of nothing, but it was less a relaxed way to pass the time and more nervous thoughts and observations. And when the world outside the window looked weird, it wasn¡¯t a sign that they¡¯d taken a corner and opened up some new vista. It was a sign that there was a potential threat incoming. James¡¯ checked the odometer. They¡¯d crossed the point where the gas station they¡¯d encountered yesterday should have been, and nothing but flat terrain and a slight bend in the road awaited them. ¡°Wasn¡¯t there something here?¡± He asked Anesh. ¡°James, everything looks the same.¡± Anesh had learned from his uncomfortable position yesterday, and had flattened the back seat and passenger''s chair down into the most open space possible. He was sitting with his back propped up against a rear wheel well, with a field of vision that encompassed a huge swath of the desert out their windows. ¡°Was there something here?¡± ¡°Shoulda been a gas station.¡± James said. ¡°Did it move?¡± ¡°Ask El.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t wanna talk to El. She¡¯s¡­ El.¡± ¡°That¡¯s very tautological of you.¡± ¡°Sorry, sorry.¡± James wrung his hands on the wheel. ¡°I¡¯m stressed out. The farther in we get, the more I start to think that we should be back home, solving real problems, instead of¡­ I mean, shit, we basically *are* on vacation.¡± ¡°Yes. That¡¯s what a vacation is.¡± Anesh said. ¡°The part where we trust the hundred other competent people who are with us to handle the crises. And get to do what we want, for a bit.¡± James snorted. ¡°Fine, fine. But what if I don¡¯t wanna talk to El?¡± ¡°Then you have to assume that buildings sometimes go away.¡± Anesh told him. James pursed his lips and thought for a second. ¡°Nah.¡± He settled on, and poked the radio where it was clipped to the dashboard. ¡°Hey El, why do the buildings here sometimes just go away? Over.¡± He asked. The radio crackled to life as El¡¯s response came through. ¡°Oh yeah, stuff rearranges. Maps don¡¯t work here, sorry, shoulda told you!¡± ¡°What the fuck does¡­¡± James scowled at the radio before hitting the talk button again, ignoring Anesh trying to smother a laugh behind him. ¡°El, how the hell do you find your way around then? Over.¡± ¡°There¡¯s patterns, dumbass.¡± El sounded like she was exasperated with him, even through the radio¡¯s imperfect sound quality. ¡°You take certain turns, you get to denser locations. That sorta thing. If there¡¯s no building here, that means we look for a building at the fork of the next split, and if there¡¯s nothing there, we can go right and get to a hotel, or left and go somewhere random.¡± There was a quiet stretch. ¡°She didn¡¯t say over.¡± Anesh noted. ¡°No she didn¡¯t. How long do you think it would take to learn this stuff?¡± James asked. ¡°Not too long. I could do it in a couple runs.¡± Anesh said, failing to point out that his pattern recognition skills were actually Skills, and he was sort of cheating. ¡°But yeah, she¡¯s been here a lot. I wonder how she¡¯s survived this long? It feels like a lot of the guard life here is very¡­ um¡­¡± James filled in the end. ¡°All or nothing?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°The Office isn¡¯t far off from that, though.¡± He mused. ¡°Ehhhhhhh¡­¡± Anesh started. James shook his head. ¡°Okay, okay, I thought about it for a second.¡± He gave a nervous laugh, double checking his wing mirrors. ¡°But seriously, the first thing most people are gonna see coming into Officium Mundi is a pissed off stapler. I did, after all. And that¡¯s a *problem*, but it¡¯s imminently survivable. Here? What would have happened if one of those speed bumps caught your foot?¡± ¡°I¡¯d be dead, repeatedly.¡± Anesh confirmed tartly. ¡°Because they¡¯re unkillable flesh grinders.¡± ¡°I mean, let¡¯s reserve judgement on ¡®unkillable¡¯ for now.¡± ¡°Sure. But I do get your point. I guess I¡¯m just thinking about things like camracondas. The great filter of if you brought a friend along.¡± James perked up. ¡°Oh, tangent! So, you know how Deb and Frequency are dating?¡± ¡°Everyone knows.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice was dry as he shook his head. ¡°Everyone thinks it¡¯s adorable, and I find that *very* uncomfortable. But yes, they are dating.¡± ¡°Okay, first point, it *is* adorable.¡± James countered. ¡°But that¡¯s not like, some kind of xenophilia thing. I dunno if you¡¯ve noticed, but people in the Order are just generally kind of giddy whenever *anyone* starts dating? We made an atmosphere that¡¯s open enough that people don¡¯t feel weird about it, and I kinda like that. People think *we¡¯re* cute, and that¡¯s a hell of a shock to my low-self-esteem ass. But no, what I was gonna say was-¡° ¡°Car!¡± Anesh¡¯s voice cut him off halfway through his point. And all of a sudden, James was snapped back to the present. He¡¯d almost lost himself in that road trip vibe of thin time and casual chatter, and forgotten the second sun and the supernaturally aggressive drivers. The incoming vehicle was a bulbous little sedan, cutting toward them at what looked like a thirty degree angle with the road, coming in from their left. James tossed the radio back to Anesh, who started signaling to El, while he focused on keeping the wheel under control as he pushed the car to accelerate. There was nothing nearby. Not even a fork or a curve in the road. The closest thing to terrain was a vertical rock outcrop to their right that was already receding into the rear view, and a few patches of determined dry grass on the sides of the road. James couldn¡¯t even see a possible destination ahead of them except more road. Nowhere to hide. ¡°El¡¯s freaking out.¡± Anesh said calmly. He¡¯d moved to a kneeling position in the middle of the car, wobbling slightly with the occasional speed changes. ¡°Here.¡± He passed James a pair of earplugs. ¡°Nowhere to hide.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James shakily took a hand off the wheel to put the ear protection in. He was going a hundred and ten, El was pulling ahead of them at even faster than that, and still, the incoming car was on a vector to intercept them. ¡°Ready?¡± He asked, voice loud to hear himself through the earplugs. Anesh checked the magazine on his P90. ¡°Ready.¡± He confirmed. James hit the buttons on his side console to roll the windows down, clearing Anesh¡¯s line of fire and letting in the scorching dry air. The cool interior of the car turning burning in a heartbeat. And then, he put his hands back on the wheel, trusted to his partner, and pushed the gas pedal as far down as it could go. He could see the incoming vehicle in the wing mirror now. And it was all of a sudden apparent that this thing wasn¡¯t any human made car at all. There were strange seams down its outside that flexed organically in the whipping hundred mile an hour wind as it closed in. The headlights twitched back and forth, strangely living metal eyes tracking prey. And its front hood was studded with small rough bumps, nodes that had clearly grown in a pattern, but were grown nonetheless. James didn¡¯t have time to think much about that, though. He had one goal right now; maximize contact time. In his mind, he ran through the factors at play. El was ahead of them, and didn¡¯t have a way to help anyway. She was out of play. The car coming at them would be coming in at an angle, and at these speeds, James was confident he couldn¡¯t outrun it. So, he needed to give Anesh the most time possible to shoot it before it hit them. Because if it hit them, they were dead. But he also couldn¡¯t slow down. Because then it would just hit them when they had less defenses. James urged as much speed out of the car as he possibly could. A hundred and twenty, a hundred and thirty, every scrap slowing how quickly their enemy was closing on them. He moved them into the farthest possible lane, wheels a half inch away from the metal death trap that was the highway¡¯s shoulder. At these speeds, it took only the barest flick of the wheel for less than a second; his driving skill ranks pulling their weight and helping him correct without panic or failure. As a last resort, James tried to tune his bracer to ¡®vehicle impact¡¯. It might be too vague, but it might be enough. ¡°Contact!¡± Anesh shouted from the back seat. And the inside of the car got a lot louder, real quick. Anesh fired out the back seat window in small bursts at first, just making sure he was actually connecting with the incoming vehicle. The noise, cracking discharge of the ammunition and then a high coppery *ting* as the gun cycled, overwhelmed everything else. The engine, the tires on the road, the thoughts in James¡¯ head; earplugs would keep him from bleeding out his ears, but it didn¡¯t exactly make the situation *quiet*. And then, in the maybe three seconds they had before the oncoming creature hit them, Anesh jammed the gun as hard as he could into the crook of his shoulder, pulled the trigger, and held it down. Impact sites dotted the car-shaped thing that was rushing them, tiny craters beginning to pepper its outside. The windshield and a couple of its side windows cracked, spiderwebbed, and then shattered to jagged shards. Anesh tried to keep the full auto stream of bullets focused on the hood of their attacker, aiming to shred the engine that probably worked as its heart. He¡¯d considered going for the tires, but he would have had to shift forward too far to avoid shooting their own interior, and also the thing had just plowed over the strip of spined metal on the side of the road like it was nothing, so that probably wouldn¡¯t be super effective. It was almost on them when James grabbed out at the world with his absorbed blue, and yanked a waist high wall of road up, inches in front of their enemy. He did it relying on instinct to time it right, and only got maybe thirty feet of distance. *Something* grabbed back at the road, ripping it from his command a split second later. But it was enough to fumble the vector of their attacker, and force it to jerk wildly back, wobbling across the highway as it steadied out parallel to them. He bought them four more seconds of contact time. Anesh didn¡¯t waste it. He lashed out with his own blue, [Separate Alloy] rending away chunks of the component parts of some of the metal pieces of the creature, its armor shedding away and clattering to the pavement in the rapidly fading distance. Then a trigger of [Munitions Dump] as the magazine ran dry, the gun bracelet restoring him to operational status as a backseat turret. The bullets started finding their mark easier. A headlight eye shattered, and the impacts on the hood weren¡¯t shedding sparks anymore but puffs of rapidly aerosolized liquid. Then, as it whipped back toward them, the raised mounds on the hood and sides all puffed outward with some kind of steam, and the other car returned fire. The noise was a screeching metallic rattle, like the world¡¯s angriest rain, as impacts struck the side of their car. The rear view mirror, far to close to James¡¯ head for comfort, jerked sideways with a cracking noise as a long organic needle barely missed his face and jammed into it. He kept his hands on the wheel, and *begged* the engine for more speed in his head, trying not to think about the fact that the plastic strut holding the mirror in place was *rotting* at the impact point. And then it almost hit them. Except, mercifully, James¡¯ shield bracer *worked*. A glowing dome of light, painfully bright even against the double suns overhead. And the monster deflected, physics defied. It didn¡¯t seem even remotely shaken by the strike, though; bouncing off and then whipping back toward them, pulling up without attempting to ram again. James barely, *barely* had time for his brain to register that the thing was insectile, all the lines and shapes of it echoing the aesthetic of ¡®bug¡¯. Now, as their pursuer pulled along side them with a speed that still came too easily despite all the bullets in it, it opened its doors. Which is to say, the passenger side doors irised out like hostile fanged apartures, revealing fully the inside of the car, and the lifeless human skeleton in the driver¡¯s seat; seatbelts growing through it¡¯s ribs like vines. Those same seatbelts were alive and thrashing in the other seats. Pouring out toward them, pulled backward by the whipping wind but still reaching for their car, reaching for purchase. Anesh fired into them, shutting down multiple attempts. But there were hundreds of them, all with tiny fanged grippers on the end. And one gun wasn¡¯t enough to kill it. So he changed tactics, reached out with his own asphalt manipulation, grabbed the road under his target, and yanked it upward in the sharpest spike he could manage. No finesse, no focus, just a desperate attack lobbed off. The car dodged. It *dodged*. Jerking away at the last second, looping around the jutting spire of asphalt like it knew it was coming. Which, it honestly might have. James noticed, out of the corner of his eye. James made the connection, mental enhancements on full burn, his perception pushed so far beyond human limits it was painful. ¡°Anesh!¡± He bellowed over the continuing gunfire. His partner shifted slightly; he¡¯d heard. ¡°Spike! Left side! Three! Two! One!¡± And then, in place of saying ¡®zero¡¯, James used his own power to form a spike to the right of the car, driving up toward its hood and right side tires, while Anesh, catching on almost right away, did the same on the opposite side. ¡°Dodge this.¡± They declared in unison at their enemy. It *almost* did. They weren¡¯t perfectly in sync, and at speeds of over a hundred miles an hour, that meant that a split second was still fifty feet of distance. But the other car was going just as fast. And while it slid smoothly past the first spike, taking only a small scratch to its hull, the second one caught it inside the wheel well. The asphalt, rapidly jerked out of their control, had already done its job. The tire shredded, the chunk of rocky matter punched deep into the inside of the car, digging a furrow in the metal of its chassis before it got caught, and yanked the vehicle downward at a strange point before the asphalt itself snapped. The enemy car, from an outside perspective, exploded shrapnel outward from its side, pitched forward at high speed, and then, teetering forward, gave into physics and toppled onto its roof, rolling over and over, shedding shell and metal and shattered glass behind it across a mile long stretch of road. James and Anesh howled defiantly relieved laughter as James brought the car to a reasonably safe stop, taking shaking hands off the wheel to slump back in his seat. A long, drawn out mix of a sigh and scream. And then he opened the door, stumbled out on unsteady feet, sweat already dripping off his forehead from the heat, and flipped off the shattered corpse behind them on the burning road. The total time of the fight was under a minute. _____ It was fifteen minutes later that El rejoined them. James and Anesh, after taking a minute to breathe, have some water, and pick the flood of shell casings out of the back seat of their subaru, had headed back toward the crash site to assess their foe. James had parked the car about fifty feet away, just to give them a little distance in case it exploded or something, but it didn¡¯t look like it was going to. Anesh had approached the overturned vehicle, while James was examining their own car. The spines that had riddled the driver¡¯s side were bad news. Wherever they hit, it seemed like they penetrated, and where they were stuck in his car, they radiated sprawling organic lines of decay and corruption. Not exactly rust; his precious new road trip car was *rotting*, the metal and plastic and paint of its structure turning to a slimy goo that dripped slightly in the sun. But. Parts of it were already self repairing. The gas in their tank, a healing potion for cars, was already doing its work in the short time they¡¯d taken to drive back here. James had initially been annoyed they¡¯d found a health potion for a vehicle before a human, after all this time, but he wasn¡¯t going to complain as he yanked the spines out and let the idling engine slowly purge the corruption. Then he practically jumped out of his own shoes as gunfire rang out behind him. James spun to see Anesh, standing over the crashed car, having fired a burst directly into the engine. ¡°Sorry!¡± Anesh called back, as James placed a hand on his heart and tried to pretend he hadn¡¯t stopped breathing for a second. ¡°It twitched!¡± ¡°Yeah, so did I!¡± James yelled back, heading over to join Anesh and popping his earplugs out. ¡°Fuck, this thing is creepy up close too.¡± It really was, with bulging protrusions across parts of its chassis, and half the metal stripped away when Anesh had separated the steel in its frame. It was hard to tell if the organic looking spurs of material were from an attack or from its natural growth. The inside was dripping liquid, thickly humid even under the dry suns, and the oily blood from the crater Anesh had just carved into its hood, along with all the other wounds, coated the road around it. ¡°I wanna call it a Dune Buggy.¡± James said. ¡°Any objections?¡± ¡°I was thinking Monster Truck, but that might be too limiting.¡± Anesh shrugged, slinging his gun back to his shoulder to kneel down and examine the buggy¡¯s tires up close. While he did that, James moved over to the driver¡¯s side and kicked away some of the shattered glass still in the window. It seemed to be real glass, and not some sticky organic facsimile that he expected, which was strange, but at least less messy. Kneeling down, James peered into the crumpled interior at the skeleton that was still sitting lashed to the chair. Half its bones had been pulverized in the crash. But the skull was still intact, along with some of the spine and legs. Scraps of fabric that weren¡¯t the entwined seatbelts stuck out, old decayed clothing making James suspect this had once been a real person and wasn¡¯t just a dungeon construct. He reached in, carefully trying to avoid slashing his arm open on any of the jagged pieces of metal or bone, and grabbed what used to be a jacket pocket. The material was so close to falling apart that the front of it practically crumbled under his touch. James snagged what fell out with the tips of his fingers, and pulled his arm out of the car. ¡°Map fragments.¡± He muttered. ¡°This was a delver.¡± ¡°Hey, come check this out.¡± Anesh called from the other side of the wreckage. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± James asked, circling around as he pocketed the slips of indestructible map. Anesh held up a ball of something black and smooth, wiping a dirty hand on his pants as he did so. ¡°Look at this.¡± ¡°An orb!¡± James grinned. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Well, I tried.¡± He poked the bowling ball sized lump, and jerked back slightly as it rippled out from around the contact point of his finger. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°What remains of one of the tires. It folded up into this when I cut it away. I¡¯m gonna harvest the others, can you help?¡± James jogged back to their car with a wordless grin, and then jogged back, carrying the shortsword that had been tucked under the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Yes!¡± He enthusiastically exclaimed. ¡°I feel like you¡¯ll be really disappointed when that doesn¡¯t work the way you want it to.¡± Anesh told him. But he couldn¡¯t hide his own grin. It didn¡¯t work the way James wanted it to. It also didn¡¯t work the way Anesh wanted it to, and no amount of hacking or sawing from either of them seemed capable of getting the other tires to detach from their wheels. The two of them were still working on the problem when the sound of an engine reached them, and they wordlessly abandoned their project to take cover behind the wreck. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. They didn¡¯t need to bother, though, because the car that approached from down the highway was a familiar bright red convertible. And as El pulled up next to their car and got out, shotgun in hand and looking scared but determined, James decided to stop peeking over the crumpled undercarriage and cut her a break. ¡°Yo!¡± He called out. ¡°Over here! We¡¯re not dead!¡± ¡°Oh fuck!¡± El exclaimed, jogging over with no regard for trigger discipline. ¡°Are you guys okay?! What happened?! Fuck, I¡¯m so sorry, I didn¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ what happened?¡± She repeated. ¡°We won.¡± James told her. ¡°Also, seriously? Don¡¯t worry about it. Normally, I¡¯d be mad about you abandoning us to die,¡± El winced, ¡°but in this case? Right call. The panic is something we should work on, but it was tactically correct. You didn¡¯t have firepower to add, and if you¡¯d been in the area we might have hit you, which would have been bad. So, no guilt, kay?¡± El nodded, shoulders sagging in relief. ¡°I still feel like shit. And I did screw up; I wasted Velocity running, instead of keeping it so I could use Engine if I needed to. So I *was* wrong, and so are you.¡± ¡°Really can¡¯t get through one conversation without-¡± Anesh cut James off. ¡°Hey, instead of all this, can you do me a favor? Hit the tire with one of the earring charges.¡± ¡°Perfected Strike? Okay, could work. I don¡¯t have full charges on it though, so I¡¯m only gonna try once.¡± James turned away from El, putting his annoyance on hold as he leveled his sword again, and took a few practice motions. He actually wasn¡¯t trained in using this particular weapon, it was just something he could focus the earring through. Which he did now; mentally opening the menu of the Status Quo item and asking it politely for one use of Perfected Strike. His arms shifted, his blade moved, and James felt the calm pearl of emotion that was ¡°I have done this *exactly* right¡± as he hit the rubber of the tire at the one spot, the one angle, with the perfect amount of force, to slice neatly through it and carve it away from the rest of the wreck. It promptly curled up into a semi-liquid ball, which Anesh rolled over with a foot and swept up. ¡°That looked stellar, and also thanks. I¡¯m gonna go stash these.¡± He said, heading back to their car and popping the back door to roll the rubber orb in. ¡°So, you ever kill one of these before?¡± He asked El, trying to restart conversation in a way that didn¡¯t annoy him, ¡°No way.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Shit, I wouldn¡¯t even know how. You two are kinda scary, you know?¡± James looked after Anesh as his boyfriend waddled over to their car while trying to hold two oversized lumps of material. ¡°Oh yeah, terrifying.¡± He felt the happy grin on his face. ¡°Heh. So, no insight into what we should look for? Like, loot drops or anything?¡± ¡°Nothing that I remember.¡± El shrugged, looking down at the front of the overturned car. ¡°Huh. Uh, hang on.¡± She knelt down, setting her shotgun over to the side as she grabbed the frame of the car and shimmied herself across the road so she could look into the hood. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± She asked James from her position under the wreck, looking up at the thinly glowing projection that had caught her attention as she had looked at the dead dune bug. James dropped to his knees and bent down to look at what she was looking at. There, through a gap in the torn hood, was some kind of floating visual projection. James couldn¡¯t exactly describe it, but it was two things. One was very familiar, for some reason, and the other was ¡®a map¡¯. He knew it was a map. It was shaped like a map, in a way that was inescapable. ¡°Weirrrrd.¡± He said, rolling his armored shoulders onto the asphalt to slide in next to El. ¡°I¡¯m gonna touch it.¡± He said. ¡®If I go insane, shoot me and tell Anesh I died doing something stupid.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± El nodded without hesitation. ¡°*Excuse me*!?¡± Anesh said, standing right next to the wreck. ¡°Whoops.¡± James said, sticking his hand out and poking the ¡®map¡¯ hovering just over the dead heart-engine of the dune bug. _____ James was somewhere else. And yet, he hadn¡¯t moved. He was suddenly painfully aware that he was not moving. Moving was *important*, dammit, and every second he wasn¡¯t moving was a second he wasn¡¯t following the proper route. He had a proper route now. He knew the landmarks to pass, the archetypes of adventure he would encounter, and the prize at the end. A prize beyond any other; the prize of something that would make him *happy*. James would have frowned, if he had a body here, in this elsewhere space. Happy? *Make* him happy? Change him, give him exactly what he wanted? He¡¯d heard this before. He pushed back. The map shifted. Okay, he didn¡¯t want happiness. What about something else? Wealth? Power? Fame? It could chart a route there. No. James didn¡¯t want those. Wealth was toxic, power was a responsibility he already had, and fame¡­ Fame sounded exhausting, honestly. Where was he? He was in his own mind. He could feel it around him, his thoughts, along with all the modifications to his soul that the dungeontech had made over the last few years. A starfield of yellow, purple, and red orbs. Glittering machinery of absorbed blues and oranges. Foundational bedrock libraries of the Lessons. And winding trails that led to other souls, connections to Sarah and Anesh, gifted by the attic. The connections fascinated the map that was trying to find a route for him. It stopped offering him things he didn¡¯t want when James let his attention pass over them. What were they? Where did they go? Why could the map go anywhere, but not there? James tried to explain. They were links to his friends. Bonds. Roads he had already traveled, and walked down every day. Part routine, part adventure. The map didn¡¯t understand. That was okay, James told it. Maybe he could show the map, if it wanted. The map did want, but it wasn¡¯t bound here. It was already falling apart, without a route. James understood. It needed to show him somewhere to go. Alright, he asked it, take me somewhere that has really good burgers. I feel like I want a good burger. The map rustled contentment, and relief, and folded itself into James¡¯ mind. He opened his eyes. _____ ¡°Ow.¡± James said, realizing his head hurt. ¡°Are you okay?!¡± Anesh demanded of him. ¡°Don¡¯t move, you hit your head.¡± James moved anyway, bringing a hand up to feel the lump on the back of his skull. His hand also ached, and he saw a bandage wrapped around it, red with blood. He must have sliced it open on something when he touched the map. ¡°Oooof.¡± He groaned. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. Except for all the physical stuff.¡± ¡°Can you sit up?¡± Anesh and El had dragged him over to lay in the thin shade next to his car, and he pushed himself up off the hot asphalt with his good hand. ¡°Water?¡± James took the offered bottle from Anesh and drank greedy gulps. ¡°Ahhh. Thanks.¡± ¡°So?¡± El asked ¡°So what? ¡°So what was it? A trap?¡± James took a breath of hot air. ¡°Ah. No, it¡¯s¡­ well, maybe.¡± He opened and closed his fingers a couple times. ¡°I might need some time to think about this. And it *might* be a trap. I think¡­ I think it¡¯s one of those tricks the dungeons pull. I think it folded a trap into a reward.¡± ¡°What happened to you when you passed out?¡± Anesh asked quietly. ¡°And do we need to telepad back so Planner and Path can clear it out?¡± ¡°No no.¡± James waved him off, rolling to a kneeling position. ¡°We worked it out. It¡¯s a map. It¡­ fuck, I just realized something!¡± He looked around, throwing his arms wide. ¡°*This* is where Pathfinder came from!¡± James announced. ¡°Remember? She wasn¡¯t an Office construct! She started as a *map*, that a different dungeon broadcast in! This is her home!¡± He looked at Anesh and met his boyfriend¡¯s eyes. ¡°And I just got something like that.¡± ¡°You said it was a trap?¡± Anesh looked suspicious. ¡°I think it¡¯s meant to be both.¡± James said. ¡°It offered me happiness. It offered to take me to anything I wanted. I think¡­ it¡¯s meant to be a loot drop, for the most dangerous delvers. So that they *leave*. Because I can feel where it¡¯s guiding me, and it *isn¡¯t* in the dungeon; it¡¯s on Earth.¡± ¡°Oh that¡¯s *clever*.¡± Anesh drawled out the last word. ¡°That¡¯s *smart*. Give people exactly what they want, that will make them piss off.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°Are you two gonna explain any of this?¡± El asked, standing off to the side and leaning against his hood. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± James said, pushing himself to his feet and offering Anesh a hand up too. ¡°Once we¡¯re back on the road. I vote we cut this one short, if that¡¯s okay?¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine. Though we¡¯re gonna pass a gas station on the way out. Wanna stop for one small poke through?¡± El asked. ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± James agreed. ¡°We can explain over the radio as we go.¡± The three of them climbed into their respective cars, and James clicked his seatbelt into place, readjusting the healed rear view mirror as he prepared to pull around the crumbling wreckage of the dune bug. ¡°Hey, where¡¯s the map in your head leading, anyway?¡± Anesh asked from the back, rolling the windows up to let the AC do its work anew. ¡°You said it offered you happiness?¡± ¡°Ah, I turned that down. Made a deal with it. It¡¯s gonna take me somewhere way more likely to make me happy than any kind of magical effect. Somewhere with good food.¡± Anesh blinked, then let out a single chuckle. Yeah, that made sense for James ¡°And this restaurant is¡­?¡± ¡°A diner called Dak¡¯s Daycare, which, I have a feeling, serves bacon burgers.¡± ¡°You¡¯re buying.¡± Anesh told him James laughed. ¡°Uh, yeah. That¡¯s the nature of being friends with me. Ready to move?¡± ¡°All set. Let¡¯s get going.¡± _____ It was shocking, James mused quietly, just how *easily* he forgot where they were again and tried to slip back into road trip mode. Yes, there were all these obvious contrasts. And the cut on his hand and second sun overhead and Anesh checking and rechecking his gun in the back seat were all obvious, comically blatant reminders that he wasn¡¯t just on I-5 or something, but he¡¯d been driving for an hour now, with basically nothing to focus on, and his brain was rebelling against the boredom. They¡¯d already filled El in, they¡¯d already figured out where they were going and about how far they had to travel. He and Anesh had even had lunch, going through the last of the tupperware containers of beef stew that they¡¯d stored in the bottom of the lunchbox of specifically-holding-lunch. So he was left without much to do as he kept the car going straight and his eyes peeled for any more incoming murderous cars. ¡°You there?¡± He thought to the map embedded in his subconscious. But there was no response. James spent a little while trying to come up with what they¡¯d call this style of infomorph, but eventually gave up when the light and heat and bruise on his head combined into a truly distracting headache. Maybe they¡¯d just ask Pathfinder what she wanted to name her people. Ten minutes of driving later, he tried a different tactic. ¡°I¡¯m borrrrrred.¡± He announced to Anesh. ¡°Well you can¡¯t be that, you¡¯re the driver.¡± Anesh replied. ¡°Also, checking in; you still feeling okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. I can feel the map as separate from my own thoughts, it¡¯s not¡­ like¡­ trying to be stealthy or intrusive. It¡¯s just there, if I ask.¡± James sighed. ¡°Honestly? I¡¯m really thinking this is the dungeon being all tricksy. And it¡¯s a little more clever than you said, even.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Okay, so, someone comes in here, right? Where the ¡®easiest¡¯ monster is a lump of metal and stone that wants to eat your feet, and then the rest of you. And they start poking around. What happens?¡± ¡°They probably get eaten.¡± Anesh offered, shifting his position to double check the empty stretch of desert on the other side of the car. James grinned unseen as Anesh fell for his trap. ¡°Ah, but see, they have a car, yes? So they at least survive for a little while. And that¡¯s not really a huge problem for this place, which seems to use size and distance as a defense. But what if someone gets in, pokes around a bit, and then comes back better prepared? Like, say, *every delver ever*?¡± ¡°Then... ¡° Anesh trailed off. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I see where you¡¯re going with this.¡± He admitted. ¡°People come in, probably survive if they don¡¯t go too far or stay too long, and then they leave, and come back later, and *eventually*, they¡¯re going to score a kill. Or at least, a good chunk of them will.¡± James thought back to the feeling of the map mark in his hand. The feeling of the object itself, *before* he¡¯d reflexively cracked it like he would an orb, and let the infomorph into his head. ¡°And they¡¯re going to find a map, and probably use it. Maybe find more than one, and take some out. And what then?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you Socratic method me.¡± Anesh jokingly admonished. ¡°Then they *leave*.¡± James said firmly. ¡°Because why the fuck would you come back into the hell road, when you could go on a normal vacation on Earth, and end up making your way to buried pirate gold or something? Most people don¡¯t know how dungeons function; they¡¯re gonna think they got what the place has to offer, and they¡¯re gonna go for it. And¡­ and¡­ it¡¯s a trap, and a reward, all at once. Everyone wins; the delvers get rich or happy or something, and the dungeon gets everyone to *leave*.¡± ¡°I have a question.¡± Anesh asked quietly, putting his thoughts together. He took a second, letting the machinery of his brain connect the pieces and line up his words. ¡°What are the odds¡­ that the reason so many people are leaving this city¡­¡± ¡°Ah.¡± James hummed. ¡°*Ah*. Well. That would be¡­ wait, that¡¯s, what, eight to ten thousand people? How many people have *found* this place?¡± ¡°Or have been made to find this place.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°How many abandoned cars are there in the city?¡± ¡°Why would there be abandoned cars if people who found this place were driving in?¡± ¡°I¡­ do not have a good answer for that. I¡¯m sure when I learn the answer to that, I will hate it. So, thanks for prepping me for that.¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°Maybe, oh, I dunno, maybe it¡¯s people teaming up and the ones that die - because that *was* a human skeleton, yes? - they come in with a few people in one car, and then leave the other cars outside in reality? Hm.¡± ¡°Could also be that, if there is some kind of thing drawing people in, that not everyone comes in a car. Which, um¡­ would be bad.¡± James winced. ¡°I think the word you¡¯re searching for is ¡®murder¡¯, perhaps.¡± Anesh filled in. ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡± ¡°Car.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice turned sharp, and James tensed up, hands gripping the wheel hard as once again, the casual conversation shattered in an instant and was replaced by the anxiety of imminent combat and potential death. And then, just as James was getting ready to bring their speed back up to irresponsible levels, Anesh added, ¡°It¡¯s moving parallel to us. How far to the garage?¡± James clicked the radio again. ¡°El. Another car to our side. How far, do you reckon? Are we fighting again? Over.¡± He¡¯d barely gotten the last word out when she replied. ¡°It¡¯s just up ahead. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s seen us, so we¡¯ll just park and let it pass, yeah?¡± ¡°Yeah. *Over*.¡± James stressed the last word, shaking his head and ignoring Anesh¡¯s quiet laugh in the back. ¡°Alright. A few more miles. Keep an eye on it.¡± Anesh snorted. ¡°Well yeah.¡± He said, rolling the window down and keeping his gun up, ruining all the air conditioning¡¯s hard work again. It was a stressful five minutes, not knowing if they were going to have to engage in vehicle to vehicle combat again, but in the end, it worked out okay. The gas station, with its boxy little convenience store brick structure, appeared over the horizon and closed the distance to them rapidly as the two cars cut a straight line at high speed through the desert. When they pulled off, with James nerves at an all time high as they had to slow to about thirty, and then even lower than that to cut through the thin strip of safe driveway that wasn¡¯t made of caltrops, he felt like they were just begging to be ambushed. In the Office, life was silence, and careful observation. You moved quietly, you kept your eyes open, and if anything went wrong, there were fifteen ways to break line of sight within a few steps of you. Small bursts of motion, ambushes, and above all, *patience*, would win you your battles there. Here, though? Out on the Route? There was almost nowhere to hide, nowhere to run even. The road was perfect for high speeds, but you couldn¡¯t *shake* anything that was after you, not really. So, James had quickly caught on, your defense was speed. The ability to control the engagement envelope, to let the boyfriend in the back seat lay down fire on anything that came after you until it gave up or died. And yeah, sure, inside the buildings, where the interiors of normal looking structures had been turned into labyrinthine clusters of material that didn¡¯t make sense and were often full of hostile non-car entities, *then* you had similar rules to Officium Mundi. But here, now, behind the wheel? Slowing down felt *wrong*. It didn¡¯t get him killed, this time. But that didn¡¯t change the fact that his foot was itching for the gas pedal as he pulled past the single spire of a lamp post in the middle of the parking lot here and brought the car to a stop. The three of them hid in the shadow of the gas pumps and their sheet metal awning until the car tailing them out in the sand passed by. While they waited, James idly asked El if mixing different magic gasoline flavors gave cars superpowers, El admitted she didn¡¯t actually know, and Anesh decided they weren¡¯t going to find out today just in case their cars exploded. They slipped into the brick building through the back door, the employee entrance next to an unnaturally clean dumpster being the only way in that actually worked. James had tried the front door, but it wasn¡¯t real. The glass and metal push bars and everything were there, yes, but it was all one fused lump, and it didn¡¯t move at all. Inside was just as weird as the first time. Shelves, stacked and turned like tetris blocks all the way to the ceiling, forming thin paths forward and sharp lined shadows from the light still flooding in from outside. They crawled and climbed their way through, James finding himself blinking away sudden changes in light multiple times as they¡¯d go from near darkness, to back in a beam of light from the suns coming through the window. Just like the first time, the inside was devoid of anything living. At least, anything living that decided to take a shot at the three confident looking and well armed people using their shelf-homes as maneuvering points. And just like the first time, when they found themselves dropping down behind the front counter from an overhanging tan metal shelf, James rolled his eyes as the front door was *obviously* sitting propped open and ready to walk out. ¡°Travel brochure here. Oh, a lighter. Are these magic?¡± He asked El, shaking the small black plastic tube next to his head and listening to it. ¡°Uh¡­ I¡¯ve never found one, so maybe?¡± El asked. ¡°Point it away from me you shit!¡± She yelped as James clicked the lighter a couple times and sparked a flame. ¡°I know, I know.¡± He waved her off as he examined the normal looking fire. ¡°This is, believe it or not, *not* the first thing I¡¯ve handled that could potentially incinerate someone. Though I suppose the last serious time it was Alanna almost setting *me* on fire.¡± James gave a small smile, and glanced over at Anesh. ¡°Now we have *protocols* for that sort of thing!¡± ¡°Heh.¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°That was so long ago. We should bring Alanna here when we find her again. I think she¡¯d like it more than me.¡± ¡°Aw, not having fun?¡± James ribbed, searching through the empty drawers under the cash register while Anesh kept an eye out. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s just too hot. This is about one and a half more suns than you see on average where I¡¯m from. And then I spent five years in *your* state, where it¡¯s not really much better except in the summer.¡± Anesh wiped the back of a hand on his neck. ¡°I am sweating so much, and it¡¯s awful.¡± Behind them, El chirped up. ¡°Oh hey, smokes!¡± She said, standing up with a half full pack of cigarettes, white and red packaging proudly labeling them as ¡°Dire Stars¡±. ¡°There¡¯s no way those are safe.¡± James said with a snort. ¡°Hey, what? No! It¡¯s like the food in your dungeon. These are always fine, they just have weird names and flavors.¡± El pulled one out. ¡°Gimmie the lighter.¡± James passed it over. ¡°I meant because they¡¯re gonna give you cancer.¡± He told her. ¡°Also please don¡¯t light that in here. I hate the smell of those, and I refuse to put up with that shit from you.¡± She flipped him off, but pocketed the lighter anyway, leaving the cigarette between her teeth. ¡°So, anything else here? Or are we heading out already? Kind of a small one, huh?¡± ¡°I mean, we got a few map chunks. We can do a once over when we get out. Tomorrow, Anesh and I¡¯ll spend some time starting to dig into what¡¯s going on here. See if we can¡¯t verify the map thing, you know?¡± James said, pulling himself up and sliding his ass over the counter with an easy hop. El shouldered past him in what she probably thought was a playful motion, turning to face him and Anesh as she walked backward out the door. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of just leaving.¡± She said. ¡°Like, Tontown in general. I¡­ I only came back for my mom, you know?¡± El said as she ducked out into the hot sun. ¡°And my car. But mostly mom. And now I¡¯m here and she¡¯s just¡­ bleh.¡± ¡°I getchya. But we *should* still figure out where three fourths of the town¡¯s population went, yeah?¡± James wanted to either say the words with a laugh, or a lecture, and he couldn¡¯t tell which, so he split the difference and went for dry amusement instead. ¡°It just seems a smidge important.¡± James paused suddenly, quirking his head to the side. He¡¯d felt¡­ something. Something different. He turned to look at Anesh, and as he did so, El suddenly lurched forward, grabbed onto Anesh¡¯s shoulder and lashed out a leg at James, connecting with his stomach and sending him sprawling backward onto the pavement. James had a moment of shock, that never really got the chance to manifest into a feeling of betrayal, because as soon as he hit the pavement, wind knocked out of him like he¡¯d put up a no vacancy sign on his lungs, he saw the vulture. It had perched atop the lamp post, in plain sight; the thing must have flown in while they were inside. It had three heads, all of them grim boxy security cameras, all of them triangulating down on him. And it was diving toward him. It opened its mouth, and a sound like a tornado siren started to wail as if from a mile away, slowly building. Then El yanked Anesh¡¯s gun up, and sprayed the thing with bullets. The bullpup¡¯s 5.7 ammo, easily capable of punching holes in a car, was more than able to tear holes in the vulture. Black feathers and shards of plastic and bone sprayed into the air, along with splatters of blood that darkened the scorching pavement with a hiss of steam as it came down like rain. A second later, El stopped firing as the vulture¡¯s corpos slammed into the ground next to James¡¯ head. ¡°Fuck *me* this thing is loud.¡± She yelled, working her jaw and rubbing at her ear as she handed the gun back to Anesh, who stepped back from the girl who¡¯d just taken his weapon away and eyed her suspiciously, even as he acknowledged the dead monster on the pavement. James groaned as he pulled himself up. ¡°Ow.¡± He said. ¡°Oooow. My lunch. Oh, ugh, that feels awful. Whyyyyyyy.¡± He moaned, clutching his stomach. ¡°Sorry dude, I had to go way back for one specific thing, and I didn¡¯t have much leeway to get you out of the way.¡± El was still talking too loudly, gunfire having deafened her a bit. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°Please explain.¡± Anesh asked her in a too-polite voice, hands keeping a steady grip on his gun even if it wasn¡¯t in a firing position. ¡°She¡¯s a time wizard.¡± James told his partner. ¡°I¡¯m a¡­ dammit.¡± El looked dejected. ¡°I¡­ have a spell that lets me tweak stuff. In the past. So that there¡¯s always a way forward for me. And it¡¯s not super flexible, but uh, it works. You know?¡± ¡°What did you tweak this time?¡± James asked. ¡°Kicking me?¡± ¡°Oh, no. I¡­ ah¡­¡± El shook her head, spraying drops of blood from her nose that she didn¡¯t seem to have noticed. ¡°I had to change two things. I don¡¯t think the spell liked one of them.¡± ¡°Kicking me was one of them.¡± James stated. ¡°Yeah, the other one was getting Anesh to forget to turn his safety back on.¡± El said. ¡°I had to go all the way back to yesterday for that. But it¡¯s the kick that messed me up. Turns out exploiting my personal ass-saving ability to keep other people from getting their guts ripped out isn¡¯t easy. And I am now way more okay with us leaving today.¡± James blinked. ¡°Oh.¡± He said. ¡°I died a second ago?¡± ¡°Well *no*, because I fixed it.¡± El said, spitting out the cigarette that she¡¯d accidentally ground into a mushy lump with her teeth while she was shooting. ¡°Anyway. You okay? I kicked you kinda hard.¡± ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± Anesh slid past him, laying a hand on James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°One second.¡± He said. ¡°I want the map from this one, too, if it has one. It could be important. And if not, it¡¯s good to know if they drop them.¡± He knelt next to the vulture corpse and turned it over. And there, glowing light that wasn¡¯t on the visible spectrum, was a map marker. He picked it up, and carefully did *not* activate it as he slid it into one of the pouches on his armor. ¡°Alright. *Now* let¡¯s go.¡± Back in their cars. Back on the road. Back toward the breach and into the real world again. And as they slid back to reality, and Anesh and James took some time to put the seats back, stow the various little pieces of loot they¡¯d collected, and strip their armor off and feel cool air again on their skin that was like a priceless balm, they spoke quietly to each other. El had already headed home, and the two of them were parked off to the side of the road by the dungeon entrance, stretching their legs outside of the car for a bit before they went back to the cramped room of the motel. ¡°She saved my life.¡± James said. ¡°Looks that way.¡± ¡°I¡­ damn.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I feel weird now.¡± ¡°Because you were prepared to write her off?¡± ¡°I guess. But maybe not. Or, okay, no. Yeah. I was prepared to just sit back and think of El as an asshole, and myself as the good guy. But it¡¯s not that simple here is it? She¡¯s not actually a bad person. Just kind of a dick sometimes.¡± Anesh let out a single huff of breath. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s familiar.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure *who* you mean,¡± James said, coy, ¡°but that *could* be half the people we know.¡± ¡°Just invite her to join the Order, and be done with it.¡± ¡°She¡­ mh.¡± James stopped himself. ¡°You were going to say she wouldn¡¯t fit in?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°None of us do though. Do we? Does anyone ¡®fit¡¯?¡± ¡°We all do, with each other, yes.¡± His partner answered. ¡°That¡¯s sort of the point. We made a group that¡¯s inclusive of anyone who¡¯s willing to step up and solve problems in a way that helps people, and that includes assholes. We work with *JP* for Christ¡¯s sake.¡± James started laughing, and found that it made him feel a lot better, letting the stress of the delve wash off him as he just calmed down, and reacted to Anesh¡¯s joke. Well, half joke. ¡°Oh, yeah, we dooooo.¡± He admitted. ¡°I guess if we can tolerate him, we can take El in, huh?¡± He said, mostly to himself. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s¡­¡± He broke off as the bushes to the side of the road rustled behind them. Anesh jumped, but James turned with a grin on his face. He¡¯d spent so long living in the suburbs that this place, with all the forested area butting up against the ¡®civilized¡¯ spaces, was something quite novel. And the number of raccoons and deer he¡¯d seen on this trip hadn¡¯t yet been enough to make him bored of it yet. Though it was a bit of an uncomfortable surprised when, off the gravel shoulder of the road, a small asphalt lump in the ground shuffled forward like a thick slug, merging with the freeway like it belonged there and slithering off down the road toward the city. ¡°Was that¡­¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± ¡°Well, good news.¡± Anesh told him, worriedly checking around his feet for more of the creatures before hopping into the car. ¡°You were right. There *is* a reason this place has the dungeon feel to it.¡± James got in and slammed his door shut. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest,¡± he said, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have really minded if I¡¯d been wrong.¡± Chapter 155 ¡°To quote a great sage, ¡®Answer unclear. Try again later¡¯¡± -A. Lee Martinez, Helen and Troy¡¯s Epic Road Quest- _____ ¡°Not even a little okay with that thing being out here.¡± James was shaking his head as they drove the winding wooded road back toward the lights of the city. ¡°I know I said this whole place felt dungeon-y, but if the actual life is coming out? That¡¯s just dangerous.¡± Anesh groaned and rolled his eyes. ¡°James, you spent fifteen minutes trying to pet a raccoon yesterday.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And raccoons are dangerous!¡± ¡°First of all, do not disparage the proud bloodline of the trash panda. Second of all, and I feel like this is more important, *raccoons are not a garbage disposal for human limbs*.¡± James shot back. ¡°*Third* of all, it¡¯s what it represents that¡¯s bothering me most.¡± That, at least, Anesh could get on board with. The fact that the world around the dungeon felt ¡®dungeon-y¡¯, for lack of a better term, wasn¡¯t that worrying. The office building James used to work at felt *really* dungeony. The house that Clutter Ascent was housed in similarly had a vibe to it, though that might just be the people living there. The high school¡­ Okay, high schools always felt like dungeons, but for a different reason. Probably. So dungeons could alter the vibe of a space. That was odd, but it wasn¡¯t a *problem*, exactly. Dungeon life leaving its home space to cause problems? Now that was a problem. And a big one, if their experience with the Office was anything to go on. Dungeon life from the hostile highway was already a big worry. And if it was moving onto the real roads, even just this one small creature, then they had something they needed to look into. Because it meant that larger creatures could follow. Follow, or be dispatched. ¡°Alright, point taken.¡± Anesh said. ¡°What do we do now?¡± ¡°Well,¡± James spoke slowly, focusing on the car for a second as he took a curve. It was too dark for him to feel safe working entirely on autopilot. ¡°We could try to track it down, but I doubt our chances. Maybe a more thorough sweep of the city? Look for any other¡­ hrm.¡± ¡°Yeah, ¡®hrm¡¯.¡± Anesh mimicked his sound of consternation. ¡°Because even though most of the town is empty, it¡¯s still *huge*. You wanna poke through three thousand empty houses?¡± ¡°No.¡± James sighed. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s just be direct. Start asking people directly. Maybe put up signs. Fuck subtly.¡± ¡°Yeah, we could try that.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°I mean, we¡¯re edging closer and closer to just being public anyway. And besides¡­¡± He trailed off, screening his eyes against the headlights of the truck passing in the oncoming lane. And then the next truck, and the car after that. A veritable convoy passing them by over the course of a minute or so. James let out a small laugh. ¡°Friday night, eh?¡± ¡°They¡¯re headed toward the dungeon gate. Is that a problem?¡± Anesh turned in his seat to watch the taillights vanish around the bend behind them. ¡°The first cars we pass all night, and they¡¯re all one big group? Nah. They¡¯re either a bunch of friends going camping, or a bunch of friends who already know the dungeon is there. Either way, I kinda doubt that any of them are gonna accidentally fall in.¡± James shrugged. Anesh had a thought. ¡°We should actually try to find anyone who¡¯s a delver, huh? There has to be more than just El, right?¡± ¡°Maybe. There is still that communication filter to get¡­ woah!¡± James had just finished pulling them around another long curve in the road, and ahead of them, the slope down into Townton¡¯s city limits was mostly a straight line for the next few miles. The trees thinned out here, with nice wide gravel shoulders before the irrigation ditches between the pavement and the farmland that had been fenced off out here. None of that was what had caught James¡¯ attention, though. He¡¯d done this drive multiple times now, and the view was nice, but nothing really spectacular. Instead, his exclamation was because there were a couple of people walking on the side of the road, an adult and a kit, with the taller of the two trying to wave their car down as they passed, illuminated for a half second in the car¡¯s headlights. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Anesh said with a worried sweep of the terrain around them as James started to slow the car. On his second check, he caught sight of the light of the hitchhiker¡¯s cell phone, a point of light in the otherwise dark environment of the highway. ¡°Oh! Um¡­ we¡¯re giving them a ride?¡± He asked James. James shot him a frown with raised eyebrows as he pulled the car over and parked. ¡°Yeah?¡± He half asked, half stated. ¡°Why?¡± The word was almost a challenge. ¡°Who tries to bum a ride at two AM in Tennessee?¡± Anesh asked with concern, watching the duo approach in the wing mirror on his side, the crunch of shoes on gravel becoming audible as they got closer. ¡°Serial killers?¡± James stared at him flatly for a second, before shaking his head and ignoring that comment. ¡°Hey, let¡¯s make sure the guns and armor are stowed in the trunk, yeah?¡± He said, popping his door and going around to empty out their back seat of anything that would mark *them* as the horrifying serial killers in this situation. He had just clipped shut the case on his P90 and slid it over the back seat into the trunk while Anesh did the same with a pile of armor plates, when the woman who was making an exhausted attempt at a jog caught up to where he¡¯d stopped, kid in tow behind her. ¡°Ah.. ha¡­ could¡­ would you mind if we got a ride with...you?¡± She panted out, holding her side. ¡°Oh yeah, of course!¡± James smiled back. ¡°S¡¯why I stopped. Sorry, I just had to clear out the back seat.¡± He dusted his hands off on his pants, and held one out. ¡°James, nice to meet you here on this deserted stretch of road in the dead of night.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Jeanne.¡± The woman took his hand in a firm grip, and James smiled at how solid she felt. ¡°This is my daughter, Ava.¡± ¡°Oh, hey!¡± James said to the young girl who was breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath. ¡°I recognize you guys from our motel, so we¡¯re going the same way. Come on, come sit. You two look tired.¡± He turned and twisted himself around the open doors to prop himself up on the driver¡¯s door, looking back at the mother and daughter standing on the gravel, the older of the duo holding back the kid, eying him suspiciously. ¡°Are you following us?¡± She asked, nervous anger in her tone. ¡°What? No.¡± James glanced into the car at Anesh, who just shrugged at him. ¡°The kid tried to take my ankles out with a ball in the parking lot. Made an impression!¡± He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ¡°But seriously, no, not following you. But if you¡¯re worried I can summon a rideshare for you.¡± The offer of an alternative seemed to reassure her enough, and Jeanne¡¯s shoulders sagged as she let out a great breath. ¡°Sorry.¡± She muttered, just loud enough for James to hear. ¡°It¡¯s been a long night.¡± ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re in the middle of nowhere.¡± Anesh said from his seat, nodding politely at the two as they settled in and buckled up. ¡°Hi.¡± ¡°Hello.¡± James intercepted the polite nothings with a question, as he pulled back onto the empty dark road and started them on the home stretch toward the city limits. ¡°Yeah, what are you doing out here anyway?¡± He asked, failing to completely smother a grin as he watched Ava give a massive yawn in his rear view mirror. ¡°He- heck of a walk.¡± He unconvincingly cleared his throat, remembering at the last second how little parents appreciated it when he swore around their kids. ¡°Um¡­¡± Jeanne dropped her hand from her mouth, showing the tail end of her own yawn. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She said, sounding confused. ¡°Well that¡¯s instantly suspicious.¡± James said dryly. ¡°I¡¯m not-!¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t mean *you¡¯re* suspicious.¡± Anesh stopped her with a soothing tone. ¡°He means that, traditionally, people with holes in their memories point to something that we¡¯re used to dealing with.¡± ¡°Used to?¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°Or maybe I should roll my eyes at ¡®dealing with¡¯. Yeah, let¡¯s take this again.¡± He paused, then tilted his head at Anesh in exactly the same way again. ¡°Dealing with?¡± He said, rolling his eyes. ¡°Please. We survive, barely.¡± ¡°Cause you¡¯re a wizard.¡± The young girl in the back seat spoke up for the first time since getting in the car. She¡¯d grabbed one of the balls of rubber off the floor that they hadn¡¯t thrown in the back seat, and was rolling it in her hands. ¡°Yes.¡± James nodded once. ¡°Thank you! Finally, someone gets it. Also please be careful with that, probably?¡± Jeanne crossed her arms, shaking her head both to reject what was happening and to drive off the sleepy haze that was coming down around her. ¡°No, no. I¡¯m sorry, what is all this?¡± She said, shifting nervously in her seat. ¡°What do you mean, you recognize this? That cannot be a coincidence.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not.¡± James said, maybe a little too cheerfully. ¡°But look, it¡¯s not¡­ okay, this is gonna sound mean, but it¡¯s not about you? Like, we¡¯re not here now to give you a ride because *you* are experiencing memory loss. We¡¯re here, in this town, and coming from that direction, because we¡¯re here looking into the thing causing the memory loss, and you just happened to be¡­ you know. Around. In need of a ride. I¡¯m not gonna just leave someone on the side of the road! That¡¯d be mean!¡± He caught Ava¡¯s eye in the mirror, and winked, the kid ducking to hide a smirk as she kept poking at the ball of rippling rubber. ¡°None of this makes sense!¡± The mother yelled. ¡°Who *are* you?¡± ¡°Wizards!¡± James announced, causing Ava to break into peals of childish laughter. ¡°Hi. I¡¯m Anesh.¡± Anesh said. ¡°That¡¯s James. He thinks he¡¯s clever, but he¡¯s not helping. Look, what questions can I answer from you, that would help? Because I¡¯ve got some of my own after.¡± ¡°Are you dangerous?¡± Jeanne asked quietly, one arm out between the front seat and her daughter. Both of the boys were silent for maybe a little too long. Until James broke the tension by saying, ¡°Oh yeah.¡± In a voice that sounded a little too sad and far away, before he followed up with, ¡°Not to you, or your daughter, though. I swear it.¡± Something about the way he said it left the car with a heavy quiet for a while. It was so earnest, so open; Jeanne had never actually met someone who admitted to ¡®being dangerous¡¯, and yet, the way James made it sound, she felt safer here in his backseat than anywhere else on the planet right now. The absence of tension was so abrupt, she almost felt like she¡¯d fallen asleep, until she jolted back up and asked her other question. ¡°What¡¯s going on? I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening. Please. We just woke up on the side of the road miles outside of town and alone. And you say you know, so, what is this?¡± James shot a look at Anesh, who sighed and turned in his seat to address them face to face. ¡°Okay, you¡¯ve been here for a few days at least. Have you noticed how empty the city is?¡± ¡°We only got here yesterday.¡± Jeanne said. Anesh blinked, and looked back at James, who was giving a low ¡®noooooooo¡¯ from behind the wheel. He turned back to Jeanne, who was staring at him with eyes that hid an ocean of fear. ¡°No,¡± Anesh said, ¡°you didn¡¯t. Ava ran into James twwwwoo? Two days ago. Three days ago. And James saw the two of you again last night. You have been here for some time.¡± ¡°No. No no no, that¡¯s impossible.¡± Jeanne laughed nervously. ¡°We¡¯re going to visit my mother in North Carolina. This is just a stop on the way for the evening.¡± Instead of answering, Anesh just handed his phone to her, pointing at the date. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You were here before us, we don¡¯t know how long you¡¯ve been here.¡± He said. ¡°But it¡¯s been more than an evening.¡± ¡°Wh¡­ what?¡± Her voice sounded so small as she held the phone in both hands, staring at the screen long after it shut off. ¡°No, no no no. We were supposed to¡­ this can¡¯t be right. This is a joke, right?¡± ¡°Mom, don¡¯t be scared.¡± The young girl next to her said, leaning against the confines of her seatbelt to try to hug her mother without giving up the new toy she¡¯d found. James spoke calmly from the front seat. ¡°Deep breaths.¡± He said. ¡°Clench your fists, hard. Then slowly let go. Repeat. Keep breathing.¡± He gave slow instructions, slowing the car as he did so and moving to the side lane so that he didn¡¯t have to focus so much on the road. ¡°This sort of thing *is* scary. But you got absurdly lucky, and we¡¯re here to help now, okay?¡± ¡°...Okay¡± ¡°Now, I have a question.¡± James said, half watching the lights of the semi-truck that barreled past in the other lane. ¡°Anesh started to bring this up, but the town is emptying out, and I¡¯m sure you noticed. But so far, you¡¯re the only people we¡¯ve seen walking out of town, and then waking up and walking back. So. Can you tell me, what¡¯s going on with *you*? Why are you being targeted, and *why isn¡¯t it working*?¡± In the back seat behind him, their passengers sat silent, neither of them providing James with an easy answer. ¡°Might have something to do with the fact that the kid can clock an augmented human out of nowhere.¡± Anesh muttered to James. ¡°Yeah, wait, I didn¡¯t really ask about that, did I?¡± He paused. ¡°And she¡¯s met El, too. Same deal there. Huh. Okay, that¡¯s kind of¡­ have we met *anyone* with built-in human powers?¡± James asked his partner. ¡°I mean, Elizebeth is immune to antimemes.¡± He replied. ¡°Does Alanna being able to pick up a couch count as a ¡®power¡¯?¡± Anesh caught James¡¯ comically disapproving look, and chuckled. ¡°Okay, rescinded. So not really.¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯d be willing to bet that¡¯s it, entirely.¡± He said, meeting Jeanne¡¯s eyes in the mirror. ¡°Ava can see more than most people. Not sure how that translates to you two waking up from the compulsion, exactly, but it¡¯s a good bet that''s why you¡¯re being targeted. Also, is anyone hungry? I haven¡¯t eaten in a while, and¡­ is McDonalds the only thing open? Bah.¡± ¡°You got too used to eating real food.¡± Anesh poked him. ¡°Now you have to sufferrrrr.¡± ¡°I¡¯m teleporting back and getting Nate to make me tikka masala.¡± James threatened. ¡°Don¡¯t waste our telepad. It¡¯s got two uses left, and it¡¯s a giant pain to go into the vault to get more.¡± Anesh told him. James frowned. ¡°What if I just teleport into the vault?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a breach of protocol. Don¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°But¡­ I¡¯m hungry¡­¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s McDonalds for you!¡± Anesh gloated. ¡°I want fries!¡± Ava added from the backseat. Her mother laid a hand on her head, and smiled as she added, ¡°And some water would be nice, too.¡± ¡°Oh, heck! I should have offered you water!¡± James said, pulling a bottle out from under his seat. ¡°That was shi- bad of me. Sorry.¡± ¡°I know we only met twenty minutes ago, and my life is falling to pieces around me, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever known someone who apologized for not being *enough* of a life saver when they¡¯re giving a free ride.¡± Jeanne said. It was Anesh¡¯s turn to roll his eyes. ¡°He does that.¡± He said. ¡°Also I want a pie. One of those stupid tube pies. I have earned it.¡± He told James as they made their way off the freeway and onto the streets of the city, lit with a mix of orange and white glows, all of them seeming to be leading to a single drive thru. Jeanne had more questions, mostly small things that they fielded as they ate fast food garbage. Ava obviously had questions too, but for someone who looked between the ages of eight and eleven, she was doing a shockingly good job of eating her fries without interjecting every other sentence. Jeanne was shocked to learn that she was older than James was, if only by a few years. And by the end of the meal and her tired interrogation, she was somehow less sure this was real, and more terrified of the world in general. ¡°Okay, all of this sounds bad.¡± James admitted, as he and Anesh walked the two of them back to the motel from their car. He was carrying the gun cases and projecting as hard as he could that these were just normal luggage, hoping that no one would question him. ¡°But it really isn¡¯t *that* bad. The death rate to dungeons appears to mirror the death rate to...um...people, in general. Which now that I say it, is pretty scary. But you aren¡¯t at more risk than before; now you just know what¡¯s out there.¡± ¡°You said you don¡¯t even know if you know everything.¡± She accused him. ¡°We¡¯re working on incomplete information a lot of the time.¡± Anesh agreed. He was slightly out of breath, since he was carrying a box of armor, and also Ava riding on his shoulders. Exercise potion abuse or no, he wasn¡¯t built to give indefinite piggy back rides. ¡°I wish we weren¡¯t, but we¡¯re a tiny group, compared to even just one state. We haven¡¯t had time to learn everything.¡± James nodded, illuminated by the white glare of the motel¡¯s outdoor lights, as he set down a case long enough to unlock the door to their room. ¡°Alright, so, quick thing. Don¡¯t worry about *this*, okay?¡± He said, pushing the door open. ¡°Worry about wh-¡° Jeanne¡¯s voice cut off with a scream of panic as Ganesh blitzed out the open door, spinning around Anesh twice before alighting on his head to turn and peer up at Ava¡¯s curiously delighted face. ¡°What is-?!¡± Jeanne started to swing a hand in a wide arc to take out the massive bug threatening her daughter, when James slipped in front of her. ¡°Nope!¡± James held up his hands. ¡°I shoulda been more clear on that, and Ganesh needs to stop being so enthusiastic. It¡¯s fine, really. He¡¯s friendly.¡± ¡°He¡¯s like a pokemon!¡± Ava exclaimed with joy, carefully hoisting Ganesh up to sit atop her own head instead, turning regally to observe her kingdom. ¡°Alright, time to get down.¡± Anesh told her, sliding the kid off his back. ¡°Come on in. We¡¯ve got one last thing to do tonight.¡± Despite her instinct to trust them, and the help they¡¯d given and offered, Jeanne was still suspicious. ¡°What?¡± She asked, not quite stepping into the room. ¡°Guard rotations.¡± James said glumly. ¡°Rufus! Where are ya?¡± He called out, shooting a friendly nod at the stapler as the little guy crawled out from under one of the pillows. ¡°Okay, so-¡° ¡°What is that? What is *that*!?¡± ¡°Okay, first of all, these are our friends, please calm¡­ no, that has never once worked. Okay, this is Rufus, the drone-mantis lookin¡¯ fellow that your daughter is wearing as a crown is Ganesh. It¡¯s alright. They¡¯re with us.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t really know if believing me about the monsters and stuff was a good idea, even though one weird thing had happened. I get it!¡± James made an appreciative noise. ¡°Just because you were wrong about one thing doens¡¯t mean you¡¯re wrong about everything.¡± ¡°Hello Ganesh!¡± Ava reached up a hand to pet the drone, which the little guy leaned into. ¡°So here¡¯s the deal.¡± James said. ¡°This place isn¡¯t exactly secure. But if we just leave, we¡¯re never going to figure out what¡¯s going on, and there¡¯s no promise that whatever it is won¡¯t just chase you two down. So. We¡¯re going to grab as much sleep as we can, and tomorrow, Anesh and I are going to start really investigating this town. But right now, we need to make sure at least someone is awake and keeping watch.¡± ¡°There¡¯s only one bed in here, we can¡¯t all fit in this room.¡± Jeanne mentioned. ¡°What about your other room?¡± ¡°We only have this room.¡± James said, a self-conscious challenge in his tone. ¡°Anyway, the good news is, we have a couple of loyal guards right here.¡± Ganesh buzzed in acknowledgement, while Rufus crossed his forelegs and narrowed his eye up at James. ¡°Don¡¯t glare at him, you were asleep all day.¡± Anesh admonished. Rufus mimed out a series of motions that indicated that he¡¯d taken a vow of silence, and didn¡¯t have a way to wake anyone up. ¡°Well you¡¯re in luck.¡± James said, unzipping a backpack parked on the tiny side table the room held. ¡°I bought you a thing for this earlier today. Did you know Walmart sells air horns?¡± ¡°No.¡± Anesh recoiled. ¡°No?¡± Jeanne looked a little confused. ¡°Yes!¡± Her daughter answered, seeming happy to be involved in the conversation. ¡°Well¡­ they do.¡± James said, handing the noisemaker to Rufus, who took it like it was some kind of holy relic. ¡°Don¡¯t make me regret this.¡± He added. ¡°So we¡¯re just supposed to go back to bed? Act like everything¡¯s normal?¡± Jeanne demanded. ¡°You can¡¯t expect us to just fall asleep after all that.¡± She said, punctuating her sentence with a traitorous yawn. James noticed. ¡°Yeah, go to bed.¡± He said. ¡°You were just out walking for *hours*. Even if you don¡¯t remember it, your legs sure will. Rufus will keep an eye out, and if anything comes up, he¡¯ll let us know. Right buddy?¡± He offered an open palm, and Rufus clattered up onto the back of the chair to slap both his front legs into James¡¯ hand. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s got ya covered.¡± ¡°If I were more awake, I¡¯d have a good reason why this is a bad idea.¡± ¡°If you were more awake, it wouldn¡¯t be a good idea.¡± James retorted. ¡°Now go to bed. Ava, do you mind carrying Rufus with you?¡± The girl nodded, braid whipping around her neck as she agreed. There wasn¡¯t much left to say after that except goodnight. And in a few seconds, James and Anesh were left mostly alone in their room. ¡°This got complicated fast.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°What are we gonna do now?¡± ¡°Exactly what I said, I guess.¡± James stripped off the shirt that was stuck to his back with a layer of sweat from the blazing desert of the road. ¡°We get caught up on sleep, and tomorrow, when we¡¯re fresh, we follow any lead we can find. Look into the empty houses, contact local government officials, explore the city, whatever we need to. And in the meantime, we keep an eye on them and make sure they stay safe.¡± He stepped into the bathroom, starting the shower and trying to not be disappointed with the anemic water pressure. ¡°There¡¯s one thing that bothers me though, and I wanna get your take on it.¡± ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Anesh asked, bundling up their dirty clothing into a laundry bag. James took a second to compose his thoughts, staring at the falling water, occasionally checking with his fingers to see if it was hot enough yet. ¡°So, you know everything that¡¯s happened, right?¡± ¡°That is so impossibly vague.¡± Anesh said, from behind him, wrapping around James in a hug that he quickly retreated from. ¡°Ugh, you reek. Get in the shower.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I am *trying*!¡± James laughed. ¡°Also I mean¡­ Everything past Officium Mundi, I suppose. The school, Status Quo, all that.¡± ¡°What about it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s all come to us.¡± James said. ¡°We just kind of blunder in, and these things seem attracted to us, somehow. And now this. What, really, are the odds that we¡¯d run into two people walking off a memetic attack, here, while we¡¯re on vacation?¡± ¡°The odds don¡¯t matter.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Because it happened. And we have to deal with the reality of that, not the chance that it might have never been. That¡¯s just something you¡¯ve gotta learn in statistics.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not talking about *math* odds. I¡¯m talking about, I dunno, ¡®fate¡¯ odds.¡± James replied, deciding the water was as hot as it was going to get and immersing himself under it. ¡°I¡¯m talking about how this all keeps happening to *us*.¡± ¡°Oh, narrative law.¡± Anesh nodded, seating himself on the side of the tub while they talked. ¡°There¡¯s a few people at the Order who talk about that sometimes. But I¡¯ve got an actual counterpoint: would you be surprised that a firefighter ended up in burning buildings a lot?¡± James paused, staring at the tiny bottle of cheap soap the motel had provided. ¡°Nnnnnno. No.¡± He said. ¡°But this is more like¡­ a TV show about a firefighter, where he¡¯s constantly trying to go on a coffee date, and then the cafe explodes, and he has to rescue people on his day off.¡± ¡°It is not that dramatic.¡± Anesh reached around the shower curtain to try to swipe at James, who deftly dodged his boyfriend. ¡°Look, you want to know why we ran into them? It¡¯s because there¡¯s two freeways out of this town, and only one of them goes to the dungeon. The easiest answer is that the dungeon is drawing people in somehow. The *question* we should be asking is, *why didn¡¯t it work*.¡± ¡°I have no idea.¡± James shook his head, flinging water out of his hair. ¡°The kid is weird.¡± ¡°She¡¯s¡­ odd.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Okay, that *sounds* mean, and coming from anyone else, I would be annoyed, but you¡¯re doing that voice where you¡¯ve noticed something and you don¡¯t want to believe it.¡± James said, poking his head around the curtain. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t react to any of the weirdness. You were driving, but I was watching their faces. Jeanne? Jeanne is terrified, skeptical, and angry. Ava, though? She¡¯s *curious*.¡± ¡°Like a kid.¡± James said. ¡°No no, you don¡¯t understand. Kids aren¡¯t stupid, I know you already know that. When she saw Ganesh, her response wasn¡¯t ¡®this is weird but cool¡¯, her response was ¡®this is *normal*, and Ganesh is cool because he¡¯s *friendly*.¡± Anesh sighed, tapping his feet on the tile of the bathroom floor. ¡°There¡¯s a difference. The difference is that she¡¯s used to things like this, somehow. And in the car, she just zeroed in on the rubber. There¡¯s something going on with her, and I don¡¯t know what.¡± ¡°She¡¯s got hidden depths.¡± James agreed. ¡°We could just ask tomorrow. It¡¯s possible she just didn¡¯t want her mom to know what¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°Mmh. Possible.¡± Anesh looked up as James stepped out of the shower and tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Hand me a towel, and your turn. And then *bed*. We need sleep, too, if we¡¯re gonna get anything done tomorrow.¡± ¡°Ugh.¡± Anesh pushed upself up. ¡°Tomorrow is going to be exhausting. I¡¯m already sore and tired.¡± ¡°Well, maybe El¡¯s map pile will get one of us wizard powers.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll be sore, tired, and a wizard.¡± James laughed. ¡°I love you. Enjoy your shower, I¡¯m gonna go pass out.¡± _____ They made it through the night without any kind of airhorn wakeup surprise, and awoke feeling refreshed, but sore. The kind of sore you got when you¡¯d been spending a large amount of time the day prior running, climbing, and getting in high speed gunfights. James and Anesh both downed an exercise potion with their breakfast, and sighed in unison as the magic went to work repairing a good portion of the damage to their muscles. Then, after checking in with Jeanne and her daughter, they got to work on their extensive to-do list for the day. The first thing was meeting up with El, who was currently upstairs and still asleep. She was upstairs because James and Anesh had once again decided to accept El¡¯s mom¡¯s offer of breakfast, which was hash browns today. Anesh was reading the local paper while James was making idle conversation with the older woman about magic. ¡°Nah, see, the thing is, most of the stuff we can do is specific to an almost comical level.¡± He was telling her as he helped wash the dishes. ¡°And we don¡¯t write our own spellbooks, if that makes sense. We¡¯re just salvaging these powers from outside sources.¡± ¡°So with the road yesterday¡­¡± She asked, back to giving off a boisterous ¡®mom¡¯ personality, but a little more tentative and willing to listen than before. ¡°Control over asphalt.¡± James confirmed. ¡°Which is, let¡¯s be real here, *super cool*. And it turns out that most places people are these days have roads near them. But it¡¯s limited. And refilling its uses is...um¡­¡± He shrugged, giving a sheepish grin. ¡°Still, pretty cool.¡± ¡°So would it be rude to ask you to fix the pothole at the end of the block?¡± She asked. ¡°Mom, don¡¯t ask people to use their powers to cover for bad municipal policy.¡± El said, shaking her head as she slunk into the room. She sounded tired, probably because she didn¡¯t have the benefit of coffee yet. Or maybe because she hadn¡¯t slept much at all. James disagreed though. ¡°Actually, that¡¯s a really cool idea. We haven¡¯t really started to make maximum use of the powers that we can resupply, and road work is *expensive*. Not to mention it takes forever. We might actually be able to do some real good with this, in a way that gets us paid, and saves cities money. Everyone wins!¡± Then he cleared his throat. ¡°Also as payment for this idea, yes, I will fix your pothole.¡± ¡°Why are you two in my house again?¡± El asked, sitting at the kitchen table and tracing patterns on the worn green tablecloth. ¡°Eleanor Chase, I will admit that I was wrong about a lot of things, but you be *polite* to guests when they are in *my house* young lady!¡± Her mother barked out, hands on her hips. James didn¡¯t even try to hide his quivering smirk as El withered under her mother¡¯s gaze. ¡°Yes mom.¡± She said. ¡°Um¡­ good morning, friends.¡± She said, voice drippingly fake. ¡°What delightful activities do you have planned for¡­ no, I can¡¯t do it. I¡¯m sorry, I just woke up, I don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°Ah, it¡¯s fine.¡± James forgave her, while Anesh just tilted down a corner of the paper to look at her with a cocked eyebrow. ¡°We¡¯re here to do a pass on the maps, and to fill you in on what might be a problem. Then we¡¯re off for the day to talk to clerks at city hall.¡± James shook his head, staring out the window at the day that was already shaping up to be too beautiful to spend tracking down records. But, there wasn¡¯t much he could do about it right now. ¡°Mind if we get started on that first part? Then we can be out of your hair sooner.¡± ¡°Please!¡± El cheerfully waved at him without really looking up. ¡°Box is in the same place.¡± The two of them headed up the increasingly familiar creaking stairs, Anesh adding another thank you for breakfast, and ducked into El¡¯s room. The space had only continued its descent into chaos since they¡¯d last been here, almost to the point that James wanted to just roll up the blanket on the bed with all the clutter in it, and drop it on the floor so they¡¯d have a clear space to work. But he refrained from messing with El¡¯s comfort zone too much, and instead just stacked pencils, snack food, tangled headphones, and stuffed animals over to the side. He even took the time to separate the trash into the wire bin on the floor that El seemed to have forgotten existed. ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh said, starting to lay out the scraps of paper depicting various maps on them. ¡°I¡¯d like to make this easier on everyone, for the future.¡± ¡°What¡¯cha thinking?¡± James prompted. ¡°Spreadsheets.¡± ¡°Joy.¡± ¡°Oh, it won¡¯t be that bad.¡± Anesh settled himself on the floor, pulling his laptop out of its bag and getting set up. ¡°How many are even in there?¡± James had laid the scraps out in a grid, and did a quick bit of mental math. ¡°Eighty, plus ten, plus three¡­ ninety three? Plus the four more I have here.¡± He pulled the new ones from his pocket. ¡°That¡¯s kind of a lot.¡± ¡°Okay, here¡¯s how we do it.¡± Anesh opened a spreadsheet and started labeling columns. ¡°Continent, country, state or province or¡­ county?¡± ¡°Counties are part of states. At least here.¡± ¡°And city.¡± Anesh finished. ¡°Nothing too detailed. Just so that, if we need to go through this again, we¡¯ll at least know where to start looking.¡± James looked down at the physical objects spread on the bed. ¡°You do realize,¡± He said slowly, ¡°that we don¡¯t have a way to actually keep these sorted, right? El¡¯s just gonna throw them into the box again.¡± Anesh paused, holding a bit of the map of Maritoba county, halfway through looking up where that was. He looked up at James. ¡°But¡­ organizations¡­¡± ¡°Not gonna work. Now take these two and start looking for pairs.¡± Anesh groaned, but dove into it anyway. Pattern recognition and enhanced memory helping him to burn through the sets of mismatched and poorly aligned road networks and topological maps. By the time he¡¯d finished comparing both of his, and had come up empty, James was just finishing his first pass. So Anesh settled back down, listening to El and her mom clattering dishes downstairs and El¡¯s thudding, uncareful footsteps up the steps as she came up to join them. When she came through the door to her bedroom, he was holding the map shard taken off the dead vulture, flipping it back and forth in his hand as he tried to figure out what its actual shape was. ¡°Yo. You two done yet?¡± ¡°James is slow.¡± Anesh said. ¡°And won¡¯t let me sort your maps.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, I tried that once.¡± El said, kicking her desk chair out of the way so she could start shoving stuff into her pockets. Keys, knife, wallet, knife phone, mints, knife, knife¡­. Anesh blinked. Where the hell had those all *gone*? ¡°It doesn''t work.¡± El continued. ¡°Because they magically unsort themselves?¡± James asked, curious as he checked his last map piece against the pile. ¡°Because I add more to the box when I¡¯m tired and don¡¯t sort them.¡± El said, while James shot Anesh a look that said ¡°see?!¡± ¡°Anyway. Any luck?¡± James sighed as he picked up one of the last bits of old hiking map. ¡°Nah. I don¡¯t even know what this one is a map *of*, so I¡¯m just tapping them together and trying to¡­¡± If he¡¯d still had a physical body, in this outside space, he would have given a full body sigh with enough emphasis to make his high school drama teacher applaud. But he didn¡¯t, and so couldn¡¯t, and so just observed. Below him, rotating, over and over, was a pure black sphere. It rolled in the void, somehow darker than the nothingness around him. It was a *real* blackness, not simply the absence of anything. Except, except¡­ The ball wasn¡¯t completely dark. There, turning near its base, was a tiny dot of *something*. He tried to focus, and the ball slowed its turning. In the thick inky nothingness, James¡¯ view focused in, closer and closer to that one spot. It glowed, to his nowhere perception. A kind of mental beacon that it had not yet been acknowledged properly. He approached closer, and closer still, until he couldn¡¯t even tell what he was looking at was part of a ball. It was a sweeping curved plane, and then just an overhead view of the empty material. And right in the middle, a little speck of the space was filled in, by a road map of six square blocks of a small city in the mountains, connected to a strip of map outlining a series of hiking trails somewhere in South America. And as soon as his mind focused on it with that context, he felt something flowing through his veins, burning into his bones. A rattling electricity that surged across his skin and told him that he needed to *go*. It was, he instinctively understood, the Velocity that he¡¯d built up in that hidden space inside himself. But now, unleashed. Given a channel to the outside world through this window of map on the darkened globe. And then, he *knew*. Knew how to activate it, what it did, what it cost, everything. And most importantly, he knew its name. James blinked, sitting in El¡¯s bedroom, the wispy ash of two small pieces of paper floating away from his face, and a set of words on the tip of his tongue. Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel. He reached out his hand, opening his mouth, and caught a pillow in the face that sent him reeling back, sputtering. ¡°Why?!¡± James demanded of El as he blocked the second incoming pillow. ¡°Because you were gonna cast it!¡± She yelled at him. ¡°In my bedroom! And you were gonna, I dunno, blow up the wall or turn my canvas into a live bear or, or something! That¡¯s what you *do*!¡± ¡°I¡­!¡± James started to protest, then he took a deep breath. ¡°Actually, you know what? Good point. It would be rude of me to blow up your room.¡± He cleared his throat and looked down at Anesh. ¡°Hey. You ready to go get started on the day?¡± He asked. Anesh shoved the map shard back in his pocket and took James¡¯ hand up. ¡°Yup. You were out for seven minutes, by the way.¡± He said, checking his phone. ¡°I filled El in on the kid. She¡¯s gonna keep an eye on them today while we go investigate dungeon crimes.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James said. ¡°And sorry I almost blew up your wall.¡± El waved him off, looking a bit put out that her righteous indignation had just kind of worked and then sputtered out. ¡°And thanks for the map. I added our other three to your collection.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. Now get out of my room. I¡¯ve got places to be, you know?¡± El said, pushing them out to the upstairs hallway while James held back a laugh. ¡°Is that actually what it does?¡± Anesh asked James as they headed down the stairs. ¡°Not even a little bit.¡± He replied. ¡°It improves fine control, relative to my current speed.¡± James paused as they got to their car and cracked the doors, waiting for the interior oven heat that had built up in the sun to fade a bit. ¡°And to be clear, that¡¯s ¡®speed¡¯ as in ¡®how fast I am travelling¡¯, not the abstract thing that we can share. Unless I¡¯m using it to move. I am explaining this badly.¡± ¡°I think I get it.¡± Anesh said. ¡°So, control in terms of, letting you react at appropriate speeds while driving over a hundred miles an hour? Or control in terms of, being able to draw perfect circles or something?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James replied, getting in and starting the car, praying that the AC did its job before he melted. ¡°Good to know.¡± Anesh grinned. ¡°Alright. First thing on the list today, county clerk¡¯s office.¡± He propped his phone up on the dashboard, map already open. ¡°It¡¯s about ten minutes away. Let¡¯s get to work.¡± _____ Their time at city hall felt, James decided, like an absolute waste. More than a normal waste of time, like when he spent all day playing video games. This was like the time had been extra wasted; like it was specifically formulated to provide negative value to his life. They¡¯d spent an hour and a half in the lobby, waiting, even though they were the only people there. When they finally got shown back to the offices to talk to a city official, it wasn¡¯t even someone who had been told why they were here. The two of them were, at this point, impersonating the FBI. And James was starting to get a serious feeling of bureaucratic apathy. The desk clerk didn¡¯t care. The city planner assistant they met with didn¡¯t care. And when they finally just started walking through the halls looking for occupied offices with people they could ask pointed questions at, they discovered that the building was barely occupied. Apparently, it was Friday, and most people didn¡¯t come in on Friday. Not that many people worked here; they¡¯d downsized recently. Eventually, almost by complete accident while he was waiting for Anesh to get out of the bathroom, James stumbled across a frantic looking young man who was carrying way too many documents, delivering to various desks and offices. The guy¡¯s name was Malory, and he¡¯d been doing an internship here for about three months. In that time, he¡¯d acquired more and more temporary responsibilities, and no one ever seemed to show up to relieve him of them. So, like a good government employee, he just worked harder and harder, rapidly going mad with burnout. James empathized with him, really. It was, he told Malory, unfair that he was this overworked. Especially since he seemed to be the only one in the building actually doing anything. He nodded with sad appreciation for the tireless labor of the hapless intern. Then he told Malory that he needed to know how many people lived in the city, and also to arrange a meeting with the local chief of police. By the time Anesh got out of the bathroom, James had maps of the city, recent voter registration statistics, and a date at the local police station. While James went in to flash his credentials - the actual ones the FBI had given him, for his vaguely official consultant position, that he¡¯d remembered he¡¯d had after using the fake ones initially - Anesh sat in the car and started trying to figure out what was happening with the actual property in the city. An hour later, James stomped out of the building, face a stony mask, until he made it to the car, calmly shut the door, and unloaded every piece of profanity he¡¯d ever learned in one long burst. Anesh looked up from the realtor''s website he was looking through listings on, and asked the meaningless question of how James¡¯ meeting had gone. It had, surprising no one, gone poorly. But not for the normal reason that police interactions went poorly for James. No one had tried to shoot him this time; instead, the chief of police - a pudgy man for whom this was somehow a secondary job - told him that they¡¯d love to help out with the missing persons thing, but they just didn¡¯t have the manpower. When James started questioning as to *why* they didn¡¯t have the manpower, he ran into the alarming fact that there were only three active police officers covering the whole town, and the chief was one of them. Everyone else had quit, or moved away, over the last couple years, and with taxes down and funding cuts, they hadn¡¯t bothered to hire anyone new, because crime was basically non-existent anymore. The ¡®no more crime¡¯ thing burned in James¡¯ brain. But according to what few reports had been filed by the remaining active officers, practically by every metric, this place was turning into a peaceful utopia. Theft, vandalism, assault, all basically at zero. Crime rates dropping far out of proportion to the dwindling population. It had, the police clerk happily told James, really boosted the value of his house. Still unable to completely shake the mindset that he¡¯d never be able to own a house, James had scowled at him, made copies of the reports, and left as politely as possible given that he¡¯d just been told there¡¯d be no help dealing with several thousand people disappearing. Anesh, meanwhile, had made a quick call back to the Order¡¯s home base, and made a request for some digital support. Partially with the help of a rapidly grown emerald program, and partially just with a quickly hashed together database that one of their new programmers made to help, Anesh started the process of comparing the total missing population against the addresses of homes sold in the last year. And it was a lot closer than he¡¯d expected. He and James had been assuming something like a fifty percent loss rate to the dungeon, but the number of homes that were actually listed as sold by the two major realtors in the city covered a huge portion of the people who¡¯d left. It pointed more to the dungeon ramping up its defense of sending people on wild goose chases, than any kind of malicious action. The two of them compared notes, and caught each other up, while getting ice cream. There was one single solitary ice cream parlor left open in the city, and James figured he¡¯d sifted through more than enough dusty records today to have earned it. ¡°What I don¡¯t get,¡± He told Anesh as he held a waffle cone full of mint chocolate chip, sitting on a streetside bench, ¡°is why everyone was willing to sell for so cheap. I know realtors need to publicly list properties they¡¯ve been part of the transaction on, but it almost feels like they¡¯re bragging about how little these houses are getting sold for.¡± ¡°That is weird. Also didn¡¯t you say the clerk at the precinct was talking about his property value going up?¡± Anesh asked, strawberry ice cream melting in the bowl he¡¯d set aside and rapidly forgotten. ¡°Yeah, hang on. That doesn¡¯t check out at all.¡± He frowned. ¡°Open that one.¡± James pointed at a listing on Anesh¡¯s laptop. ¡°Four bedroom house, yard, no HOA, this place looks like what I always dreamed about buying and living in with a motley crew of friends. Why did this sell for *eighteen grand*?!¡± ¡°It says the house was assessed, but they don¡¯t list that price.¡± Anesh¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°Why would the owner even sell at this rate in the first place? Is this map influence kicking in? Because that¡¯s¡­ probably a huge loss.¡± James stretched out, folding his legs up on the edge of the bench. ¡°Well, think about it. If you¡¯re leaving to pursue the assorted target of your dreams, maybe you just want the cash to fund the trip and don¡¯t care about anything else.¡± He crunched into his cone, chewing as he thought. ¡°Here¡¯s what¡¯s bothering me, though. Who¡¯s *buying* all the houses? If no one new is moving to town, who¡¯s actually paying for these things?¡± ¡°Buyers are¡­ not listed. Huh. Hang on, that should be illegal.¡± Anesh narrowed his eyebrows as his ice cream turned into more of a puddle next to him. ¡°Hm.¡± ¡°Okay, to be fair, we do illegal stuff all the time. I spent today telling people I worked for the FBI. And now that I know there¡¯s only two cops in this town, I could get away with *anything*!¡± ¡°Are you going to?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m busy with this. So, buyer. How do we find that?¡± James prompted. Anesh closed his laptop and took a sip of his ice cream soup, watching the street as a couple of cars pulled through the intersection they were sitting near. ¡°I¡­ do not know. Talk to the realtors? But if they¡¯re hiding something it¡¯s not like they¡¯ll just tell us.¡± ¡°We *are* the FBI, you know.¡± James waggled his eyebrows. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll find their address. It¡¯s, what, four PM? We¡¯ve got some time today.¡± Anesh cracked his knuckles, trying to work out the stiffness in this arms that had set in as he¡¯d spent the day sitting in awkward positions on a laptop, mostly in a car. ¡°Oh, I wanted to ask you something.¡± ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°Is the Map¡­ influencing you?¡± Anesh eyed James out of the corner of his eye. ¡°Not that I can tell. It¡¯s there if I ask, and it¡¯s a set of steps to get where it¡¯s offered me to go. I think that the path there is actually simpler, because it¡¯s leading somewhere easy? Like, compared to ¡®take me to true happiness¡¯ or whatever. I can¡¯t really tell, though, I can only see the next waypoint. But I get that impression. Why? Curious about why people would pack up and move on a promise?¡± ¡°No, no.¡± Anesh pulled his own map shard out of his pocket. ¡°I¡¯m thinking¡­ you made a deal with yours. Or, I guess, you told it what you wanted, and it agreed, right?¡± ¡°Right. It wasn¡¯t evil or anything. Just¡­ single minded. Created to do one thing.¡± James felt really awkward about that. Created life forms were a massive ethical black hole, that he didn¡¯t really want to brave the event horizon of. ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh nodded once, still holding his little abstract piece of map. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of asking it to take me to Alanna.¡± James perked up instantly, a kind of excited anxiety running through him. ¡°Oh.¡± He said. ¡°Oh! I don¡¯t know if it can, but¡­ yeah. Yes. Why didn¡¯t I think of that?¡± ¡°Because you have the worst track record with new powers.¡± Anesh informed him. ¡°And you usually don¡¯t map out an array of choices before you just go for something. Which is usually cute, and so far hasn¡¯t cause any active problems. But, you know¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m not that bad!¡± James protested. ¡°You nearly killed yourself when you absorbed your first blue orb.¡± Anesh reminded him. ¡°I got better?¡± James pursed his lips. ¡°Actually, no, I don¡¯t want an itemized list of my fuckups. Do the map thing. Then, property crimes. Then¡­ we¡¯ll figure it out. Our new mantra.¡± ¡°Our *original* mantra.¡± Anesh smiled. And then his hand folded around the map shard in his hand. He blinked, one long closing and opening of his eyes, and when he looked at the world again, it was with fresh eyes and an impulse toward a waypoint. Two blocks down, take a left. He knew, with certainty, that would take them to their partner. ¡°Done.¡± He said. ¡°It worked. You were right. The Maps aren¡¯t evil, just¡­ wow. Very, very enthusiastic salespeople.¡± ¡°Right?¡± James couldn¡¯t hold back a smile. ¡°Sooooo¡­ abandon this town to its fate and go find her?¡± ¡°She can, and will, punch you into space.¡± Anesh reminded his boyfriend. ¡°But now we have something to do next. So. Property crimes?¡± ¡°Property crimes.¡± James nodded, standing and dusting off his shorts. _____ Ava hadn¡¯t been afraid of monsters for a long time. Well, long to her, anyway. Sometimes, she had little moments of realization of just how much longer everyone else had been doing things than she had, and everything seemed so *big* in perspective. But those moments didn¡¯t last too long, and then she could go back to feeling like it had been a ¡®long time¡¯ since she¡¯d been afraid of monsters. She¡¯d stopped being afraid of monsters about the time she¡¯d actually met one. Though, despite looking like a cross between a snake and a deep sea slug, Hidden did *not* like being called a monster. Ava also knew that Hidden didn¡¯t like being compared to a deep sea slug, but it had been *months* since she¡¯d decided the strange creature was her little sister, and Ava was culturally aware of the fact that sometimes you just had to compare your sister to a deep sea slug. It was the law, or something. And in the last eternal summer of subjective time, from Ava¡¯s perspective, she¡¯d also gotten used to Hidden helping her pull useful information out of nowhere. Sometimes, she used this to solve very important mysteries, like the mystery of who flagrantly stole the brownie out of her lunch at school. Other times, Hidden would just tell her small secrets that she found drifting on the wind. And *sometimes* Hidden would tell her when someone was¡­ different. Like her. Maybe with their own snake-slug friend. Maybe something else. Always something magic. And sometimes, Hidden would take information away from other people. Let Ava get away with things, or keep them both invisible to the bullies. Hidden was a good sister. Hidden wasn¡¯t ¡®around¡¯ all the time. When she was, she hid inside Ava¡¯s hoodie, and didn¡¯t really like coming out. But there was a lot of moments where Ava would realize she couldn¡¯t feel the weight on her shoulder or arm, and it would be because Hidden was inside her head for a while. That had been scary at first, but it was more like napping than trying to eat her brains, so that was okay too. All this was to say that Ava was an absolute *expert* on monsters and secrets and wizards by this point in her life. Which made it a lot worse that she was terrified of what was going on. Suddenly waking up, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, was bad enough. Learning that they¡¯d been here for several days when Ava just remembered rolling into town and getting ice cream *yesterday* was also pretty scary. And not knowing why, and feeling like her mom - who was supposed to be invincible - was just as scared as her, as they waited in the boring motel room all day, was also not good. Ava had never been bored and scared at the same time before. She decided she didn¡¯t like it. She liked it even less when Hidden started nipping at her neck - the universally acknowledged signal for ¡°I have something to say, and your mom and the creature that looks like a stapler are both in the room, and I don¡¯t want to come out.¡± It was an efficient form of communication, but it made Ava jump and yelp in a way that made her feel silly afterward. Which is how she¡¯d ended up hidden in the bathroom, whispering to a ghostly blue snake that had coiled up so its set of eyes was right in front of her face. ¡°Something wrong.¡± Hidden whispered to her in that tiny vibrating voice she had. Ava rolled her eyes, a trick she¡¯d picked up from her mom recently. ¡°I know!¡± She told Hidden. ¡°Where were you? You left me!¡± The young girl hissed. ¡°Forgot.¡± Hidden sounded¡­ scared. Her sister had never sounded scared. Not since the first night they¡¯d met. ¡°I forgot. Woke up, with you, in the car.¡± There was a pause, and Ava silently willed the little snake to stop wasting time; they could only hide in here with the sink running for so long before her mom would say something. ¡°Weak.¡± ¡°Weak?¡± Ava asked. ¡°I had to walk for *miles*.¡± She drew out the last word. ¡°Not you. Me. Weak. Tired. All sudden, less of me.¡± Hidden really did sound worried. And Ava looked closer at the absolutely-not-a-slug body of her little sister. Did she look smaller than before? Ava couldn¡¯t tell. So instead, she asked. ¡°Why? You said you could make people forget. But you¡¯re not supposed to...¡± Ava gave the shimmering snake a sudden angry look. ¡°Did you make us forget?¡± ¡°Think so.¡± Hidden said. It looked like there were tears forming in some of her eyes, and Ava instantly felt bad for sounding angry. ¡°Don¡¯t know why. Something else, too.¡± ¡°What?¡± Ava was now more curious than angry. This was something more interesting than anything that had ever happened to her. Of course it was scary. But she wanted to know, now! She¡¯d gotten used to always knowing everything. No reason to stop now, just because it turned out the world had actual monsters in it. Hidden glanced toward the closed bathroom door, where the sounds of shuffling feet could be heard on the other side, along with the muffled voice of Ava¡¯s mom. ¡°Something in the air. Screaming. Crying.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s crying?¡± Ava was confused. ¡°An echo. From yesterday. And before. Me.¡± Hidden said. ¡°My crying. Asking for help. Don¡¯t remember saying, but I hear myself. And¡­ getting quieter. Something else is¡­ stopping it now. Yelling over it. In the air.¡± Ava didn¡¯t quite understand. But she knew that it sounded important. And when when something was important, and she didn¡¯t know what to do about it, there was exactly one clear path forward that would always be the right answer. ¡°We need to tell mom.¡± She said, sliding off the edge of the bathtub she¡¯d been sitting on. ¡°She¡¯ll know what to do.¡± ¡°No!¡± Hidden hissed at her, recoiling in Ava¡¯s hand as she stood up. ¡°No¡­¡± ¡°We have to!¡± Ava told her serpentine sister. ¡°You can hide, and I don¡¯t have to tell her about you, exactly, cause I know it hurts, but I need to tell her something!¡± She wasn¡¯t exactly keeping her voice down anymore, having mostly forgotten about the need for secrecy. There was a pause of Hidden glaring at her with all ten of her small gemstone eyes, before the little creature blinked in a wave and turned away. ¡°...Scared¡­¡± She said, a tiny vibrating whisper in the air. ¡°Me too.¡± Ava admitted. ¡°But¡­ but¡­ mom is cool. You know mom is cool! She¡¯ll know what to do, and you¡¯ll be okay, and telling is important, because¡­ because¡­¡± ¡°Because we do not know.¡± Hidden said, trembling, but not arguing. Ava stuffed her sister onto her head, and pulled her hoodie up over the blue slug-snake. ¡°Uh huh.¡± She said, moving over to the bathroom door. ¡°So we tell mom, and¡­¡± She had pulled open the bathroom door, and there, arms folded, was her mom. ¡°Tell me what, honey?¡± Jeanne¡¯s words were calm, despite the situation, but Ava had seen that look before. It was the kind of look that said, in pretty clear terms, that she was *probably* going to be in trouble after this. And honestly, at this point, Ava didn¡¯t have a good argument against it. Chapter 156 ¡°War isn¡¯t hell. War is war, and hell is hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse. For one thing, there are no innocent bystanders in hell.¡± - Hawkeye Pierce, MASH - _____ ¡°Why aren¡¯t you more worried about this!?¡± Jeanne was yelling at James. Currently, instead of being worried about anything, he had propped an elbow up on his arm and was rubbing at his chin in what he thought was a sagely manner. And the young mother took some amount of offense to the lack of concern he seemed to be showing. ¡°My daughter has something living in her head! And you¡¯re just standing there!¡± ¡°Okay, first of all, I¡¯m thinking, so I¡¯m not just standing here.¡± James said. ¡°And thinking is hard, because I¡¯ve been running around in hundred degree heat trying to get city officials to give me the time of day for the last eight hours, so cut me a little slack.¡± He let out a long breath, allowing the motel¡¯s wimpy AC to do its job a little longer. ¡°Second of all, this is not that big of a deal.¡± ¡°How can you *possibly* think that!¡± Jeanne snapped at him. She was pacing frantically while her daughter sat in the corner of the room, looking equal parts sheepish and anxious. ¡°How would you like it if this happened to you?!¡± James folded both his arms and set his mouth into a flat line. ¡°Uh, yeah. Ship¡¯s sailed on that one. Anesh and I both have native infomorphs. There¡¯s a lot of evidence we used to have another one, too, but we¡¯re trying not to dig too deep into that. Half of my organization is friends with at least one infomorph in a similar way to your daughter. I understand why you¡¯re worried here, but this isn¡¯t a parasitic thing.¡± ¡°But you can¡¯t *be sure*...¡± ¡°Of course not. That¡¯s why we ask.¡± James said, trying to keep his voice calm. ¡°There¡¯s usually some pretty obvious signs if a compulsion or memeplex are keeping a person from talking about a specific subject. It¡¯s why I asked Ava a bunch of random questions when we got here. It¡¯s pretty clear that she¡¯s in control.¡± James paused, and then raised a finger to make a follow up point. ¡°I mean, insofar as anyone under the age of twenty five is ever in control of themselves.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Ava didn¡¯t know exactly what that meant, but she understood that she was being made fun of. Jeanne wasn¡¯t convinced though. ¡°How come she didn¡¯t tell me, then? She never keeps secrets. But *this* she kept from me, for *months*!¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you¡­ talk to her?¡± James looked confused. ¡°The infomorph is obviously hurt by people knowing about it. I¡¯ve never seen that before, but it¡¯s not outside what¡¯s easily possible. Ava didn¡¯t want to hurt her friend. It¡¯s why I asked Anesh to wait outside; not everyone needs to know about the infomorph to learn from it.¡± He glanced over at Ava. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m using terms like ¡®it¡¯ or ¡®the infomorph¡¯. More general language is less likely to cause harm.¡± ¡°And you don¡¯t think it¡¯s creepy that *this one* has emotionally blackmailed my daughter into not talking about itself?¡± Jeanne crossed her arms and glared at James. ¡°Uh¡­ I mean¡­ it¡¯s not a good look, I admit. If this infomorph were a human adult, that would be a red flag the size of Montana. But it looks like what¡¯s happening here is more about survival than manipulation.¡± James kept himself from shrugging, not wanting to seem too casual. ¡°You asked for my opinion, and sadly *I¡¯m* somehow the only known expert on this stuff, and that¡¯s my call. It¡¯s fine. Ava¡¯s safe. Probably *safer* than any other kid on the planet. I don¡¯t think¡­ you understand.¡± James leaned against the door and stared down at his shoes. ¡°I don¡¯t think you get how devastating an infomorph can be, if they¡¯re hostile. What Ava has as a friend-slash-sister is roughly on par with carrying around a rocket launcher all the time. Humans don¡¯t *have* a defense against that; we¡®re just screwed. And somehow, Ava does. It sounds like, from what she¡¯s shared with you, that the only reason you snapped out of that walking trance was because of her friend.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m just supposed to be grateful that there¡¯s some kind of snake thing that came from nowhere and that no one understands, living in my kid¡¯s head?¡± Jeanne couldn¡¯t really decide if she was exhaustedly resigned or tiredly angry. ¡°Yeeeeeeeeeees? Yes.¡± James nodded. ¡°Also it¡¯s not that bad. Some of my best friends are snakes.¡± He said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I wanna meet the snakes!¡± Ava exclaimed, forgetting that she was being punished. A brief thought went through James¡¯ head, of Ava riding on the back of a camraconda. ¡°Yeah, we can arrange that.¡± He nodded, then caught her mom¡¯s death glare out of his peripheral vision. ¡°*Ahem*. If your mom says it¡¯s okay. So¡­ be good? Yes. Be good.¡± James faltered through the interaction. ¡°Okay, good talk. I¡¯ve gotta fill Anesh in. Ava, is your friend doing okay?¡± He asked, genuinely concerned. Ava tilted her head back, looking upward and at nothing in particular as she thought about it. ¡°She¡¯s sleeping.¡± The young girl announced. ¡°Will she be okay?¡± Her voice wavered. ¡°Yes.¡± James said with all the adult confidence he could project, before he stole out the front door. Shutting it behind him with a mechanical clatter from the door¡¯s lock, and hoping that he¡¯d been able to explain enough to Jeanne that she wouldn¡¯t try to do ruin her kid¡¯s life over this. ¡°So?¡± Anesh asked him. ¡°Good news or bad news?¡± James said with a tenuous grin. ¡°Oh, sod it. Bad first.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but Ava¡¯s got an infomorph. I¡¯m not gonna talk about it too much, because it¡¯s literally painfully shy. But yeah, it¡¯s¡­ hoo boy.¡± ¡°Hostile?¡± ¡°No, no. Not even a little, that I could tell.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Alive. A person, somehow. It¡¯s actually weird in that regard. No, the problem is¡­¡± James trailed off, walking over to their car and pausing numbly at the driver¡¯s door. Anesh noticed, and followed, standing nearby but not crowding. ¡°Can I help?¡± He asked quietly. ¡°When did we leave? On ¡®vacation¡¯.¡± ¡°Eight days ago?¡± Anesh guessed. ¡°Wanna bet when they first arrived in town?¡± ¡°No...¡± ¡°Well, you don¡¯t have to.¡± James ¡®reassured¡¯ him. Anesh held up a hand. ¡°Wait, no. El called us.¡± ¡°Yeah, she did!¡± James agreed. ¡°And why did El get back here when she did? She was having fun, roaming around, being free. What made her come back here?¡± His partner let out a small grunt of confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t think the timeline comes together perfectly.¡± He said. ¡°But you¡¯re implying that we were summoned here?¡± ¡°At the very least, we were drawn to help them. There¡¯s some kind of hostile compulsion here. And Ava¡¯s infomorph has been blanking their memory every night to get rid of it. But it¡¯s also been *screaming* for help.¡± James sprawled dramatically over the hood of their car. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to dooooo.¡± He moaned. ¡°Are we being manipulated here? I told Jeanne it was fine, but I¡¯m actually kind of worried! I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do about this!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a suggestion?¡± Anesh said, sliding up to James and running a hand through his boyfriend¡¯s hair in a comforting motion. ¡°Hrrrm.¡± James half asked, half just relaxed into his partner¡¯s touch. ¡°What do you do, when someone calls for help?¡± ¡°Help them.¡± James said, in a voice that didn¡¯t need to add ¡®obviously¡¯ to the end of the sentence. ¡°Yeah. There ya go.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Oh no! A little kid and her imaginary-and-also-real friend asked for help, and we came running! Whatever will we do with this world-shattering information about the nature of who we are as people?¡± Anesh swooned, holding a hand against his heart as he tried to contain his fragile ego. James cracked his eyes open in narrow slits, not moving for a second before rolling across the hood and then sitting up. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯m good. Stop taking my job as world¡¯s largest ham.¡± ¡°However will we cope with this new paradigm!¡± Anesh continued his joking. ¡°We link up with El and start the nighttime part of our investigation.¡± James informed him dryly. ¡°Get in the damn car, you goof.¡± Anesh grinned wide at him, and circled around to hop in the passenger seat, leaving James shaking his head with a creeping grin on his lips. ¡°I love you too.¡± He muttered, before getting in the car himself. _____ Operation Figure This Shit Out, Evening Version, was in full swing. Which, on a practical level, meant that they¡¯d met up with El, who was taking them on a tour of where local delinquents hung out. In theory, James had an appointment to talk to a realtor tomorrow about selling some property that wasn¡¯t real. But in practice, that didn¡¯t make him any more patient now. So, they¡¯d started the tedious part of information gathering; asking random people questions until they either got a hit, or ran out of time. Currently, they were in the back parking lot of a diner that El had led them to. It was the fifth spot they¡¯d hit up so far tonight. The diner oozed a feeling of disrepair and quiet apathy, which was pretty appropriate for a Denny¡¯s. James hadn¡¯t actually known that Denny¡¯s still existed, since the last one near him had closed years ago, and he assumed that was part of something larger. But this establishment, just like the one that existed in his own younger years, was the perfect place for late teens, early twenties kids to hang out in the evening. It was, James knew from experience, a hard age to be. You were supposed to be an adult now, but no one had dropped off the manual that explained what that meant. And for a lot of people, spending late nights with your friends, splitting a plate of not-very-good french fries and talking about anything at all was both a great distraction, and an even better way to hone yourself into someone a little more mature. It also made it a convenient place to locate a collection of exactly the kind of people who poked their noses into unexpected places, and turned over strange secrets. ¡°Hey!¡± James introduced himself to the small crowd of maybe ten of the young adults clustered around a couple cars. They¡¯d waited nearby long enough to know that they were waiting for a couple friends to show up, but James didn¡¯t feel like he needed to snoop on them any longer before making an introduction. ¡°You guys mind if I ask you some questions?¡± He¡¯d pitched his voice perhaps a little too far toward authority, judging by the handful of muffled swears in the group. ¡°Are you the cops?¡± One of them asked him. The kid had a voice that was too deep for his young age, and towered about a foot over James in height, but he didn¡¯t have that aura of being in control of the situation. Nervous. They were all nervous. He glanced back and forth behind him to Anesh and El, raising his eyebrows in the pale evening light. ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh said. ¡°No.¡± El said simultaneously. James nodded and looked back, deciding to go with a different route instead. ¡°I could impersonate the FBI if you really want, but nah, I¡¯ve just got a few weird questions about this town.¡± ¡°Impersonate¡­?¡± ¡°Daryl, shut up.¡± One particularly smart girl in the group said. ¡°Don¡¯t talk to the cops, remember?¡± ¡°Seriously, not the police.¡± James said. Though he was largely ignored as the friend group devolved into what felt like a well trodden internal argument. ¡°Guys?¡± He added, waiting patiently. ¡°This is my fault.¡± El nodded to herself, shooting a glance at Anesh. ¡°I should have known better then to trust college kids to be useful.¡± ¡°It was a noble attempt.¡± Anesh told her. ¡°Maybe the next group will be better.¡± James wasn¡¯t ready to give up though. ¡°Hey!¡± His shout cut off all the discussion with a sudden nervous silence. ¡°Have any of you noticed what¡¯s wrong around here?¡± He loudly questioned the group that was now openly staring at him. One of them, who¡¯d been edging toward the back of a car and the line of bushes that marked off the parking lot, perhaps getting ready to run, suddenly perked up. No one else noticed it, and a couple other kids started talking over each other asking what James meant, but both James and Anesh had caught the flash of recognition. ¡°You, in the back.¡± Anesh said tiredly. ¡°Come on, we¡¯re not gonna kill you. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°What¡¯s it in for me?¡± The kid asked. His voice was unsteady; he was obviously trying to look cooler than he actually felt, leather jacket and a black hat in a style James could never remember the name of but was kinda eye-rollingly silly to see worn seriously. A soul patch, on a kid who was *maybe* twenty two, at the most. All of it made a bit dumber by how hot it was out. James had just worn shorts, like a smart guy. The instant he spoke, half the group turned to look at him, and the other half actually did roll their eyes. Or, at least, made motions of derision. James eyed the dude for a second. He was still clearly deciding if he should just bolt into the bushes and make a run for it, which was stupid, since James was tired and had no intention of chasing him at *all*. Then he shrugged. ¡°In general? I¡¯ll pay for your guy¡¯s food tonight. For you specifically?¡± His eyes locked onto the kid¡¯s, and he let a sharkish grin out. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you that you¡¯re right about what you suspect.¡± ¡°Dude! Don¡¯t talk to the-!¡± ¡°They go by my house every night.¡± The kid said, and the fear in his voice gave James some pause. ¡°My parents live by the highway, and I see them every night. Ten cars out, nine cars back. Every night. I¡¯ve been counting. I don¡¯t know¡­ I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong. But there¡¯s something wrong?¡± His voice cracked. It was obviously something he hadn¡¯t shared with the rest of the friends around there, either. ¡°You said you¡¯d tell me.¡± James nodded, taking the asshole grin off his face. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong in this town.¡± He said. ¡°And you already know, don¡¯t you? You just don¡¯t think anyone will believe you if you say that you¡¯ve seen an actual monster.¡± ¡°...yeah.¡± ¡°Foster, what the fuck are you talking about?¡± The girl from earlier demanded. James ignored her. ¡°Your friends are here.¡± He said to the group as another car pulled into the lot. ¡°Go inside. Here.¡± He tossed the tall kid a small roll of cash that wasn¡¯t actually *that* much, but would add to his mystique. Then, as they worryingly cleared out, he turned back to the one kid who knew something. ¡°Okay. Where do you live, and around what time? One, maybe two AM?¡± ¡°Yeah. How did¡­ oh.¡± The kid came to his own conclusion. ¡°Are you gonna kill me?¡± He asked quietly. ¡°Yo, you¡¯re scaring the kid.¡± El told him angrily. Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°Yeah, you do need to remember that most people who ask questions like this don¡¯t leave a lot of witnesses.¡± He added. ¡°In *movies*!¡± James exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯m not some government coverup crew!¡± He threw his arms up. ¡°Fine, whatever! Mystique broken! No, we¡¯re not gonna kill you. Also, here¡¯s my number, and an emergency response number, in case anything goes horribly wrong, okay?¡± James handed a small card to the kid. ¡°Anyway. Go join your friends.¡± The kid practically sprinted away, as Anesh stepped up to James. ¡°Should you really have been that... um¡­ that?¡± ¡°Probably not.¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not good at this stuff. You know, at the end there, I really, *really* wanted to just do the whole ¡®magic is real and I am a wizard¡¯ thing. So at least I¡¯m improving on that front?¡± El made some kind of strangled noise. ¡°Improving? Like, you¡¯ve done that before?¡± ¡°Oh, repeatedly.¡± James nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Sometimes to government officials!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been hiding magic from everyone!¡± El shouted at him. ¡°Why have I been doing that?!¡± ¡°Dude, most people won¡¯t accept magic unless you¡¯re really blatant about it. Some people literally cannot fully engage with anything from a dungeon; it¡¯s a weird quirk, and it must suck for those people. But yeah, I haven¡¯t bothered with much secrecy lately.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I kinda feel like we¡¯re at a point where small things like this aren¡¯t ever going to matter that much.¡± Anesh frowned at his partner. ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s reckless.¡± ¡°Counterpoint!¡± James offered. ¡°The world is falling apart.¡± There was a pause. ¡°...and?¡± El asked tentatively. ¡°And that¡¯s his whole point.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Okay. We¡¯ve got one lead. Where¡¯s next?¡± ¡°What, you don¡¯t want to go check that out?¡± El asked, pointing to the notepad that James had written the address on. ¡°That¡¯s kinda huge, isn¡¯t it?¡± James shook his head, running a hand through his hair in an idle motion. ¡°If I¡¯ve learned one thing from all this, it¡¯s that more information is always better earlier. Shocking last minute revelations are great and all, but actually knowing what¡¯s going on before doing anything lets us plan around that, instead of flailing as we react.¡± He took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. If there was one perk of there being basically no one around, it was that there wasn¡¯t as much lingering scent of gasoline in the air. ¡°So we check out the rest of the places on your little list. Then we go talk any employees that are working late who might have noticed something. Normally, we¡¯d also talk to hotel desk clerks, but there¡¯s exactly one open motel in this city and we¡¯re in it and it kinda sucks.¡± James shrugged as he opened his car door. ¡°We might hear the same things multiple times. But whatever. That just helps us sort out what¡¯s accurate. And *then* we can start to put the picture together.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just saying, the picture sounds like there¡¯s some kind of weird cult sacrificing people to the dungeon.¡± El muttered. ¡°Sure. Or sacrificing cars.¡± James offered. ¡°Which is way less bad, and also, even if they were feeding people to the road, it doesn¡¯t explain where the other, you know, fourteen thousand people went.¡± ¡°Fine. Fine! Follow me, we¡¯ll go to the park where assholes hang out after dark.¡± El scowled. ¡°But I swear to god, if someone gets eaten by a car while we¡¯re fucking around, I¡¯m gonna be mad at you.¡± She said, slamming her driver¡¯s door shut with a bang. There were no assholes in the park. Nor at the hooka lounge that El led them to next, which had closed down at some point. Sweeping dark parking lots of derelict strip malls led them to a guy who offered a ¡®great deal¡¯ on weed, which mostly served to remind James that marijuana was still inexplicably illegal in this state. He traded the guy two full thermoses of iced wisdom coffee for any information on anything he felt was weird in the city. Which got them a rumor that was going around about ghost speedbumps, or speedbumps the city was installing in the dead of night. He *also* said James wasn¡¯t the first person to ask about that, which was a little worrying, but wouldn¡¯t explain further. They followed up on that, and two hours later, closing in on midnight, James got a sudden shift in tone from the cashier at an all night convenience store. ¡°Yeah. There¡¯s someone out there moving ¡®em.¡± The old man told him. Dude had scraggly hair and more tattoos than original teeth, but when he started talking, it was like his voice was liquid gold. But no level of soothing tone could mask the obvious worry he felt. ¡°Never see ¡®em. But he¡¯s there. Called the cops once, but the pigs won¡¯t even come out. Say I¡¯m seeing things.¡± ¡°Are you?¡± James asked, earnestly. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The old man laughed, a warm belly laugh. ¡°Ayy, I¡¯ve been strung out a few times, yeah?¡± He gave James an appraising eye. ¡°But not this one, brother. He¡¯s out there. And there¡¯s something *wrong* with ¡®em.¡± He tapped the plexiglass countertop, obviously not indicating the lottery tickets on display. ¡°Got a sawn off under here if he ever comes in. Don¡¯t like the feel of ¡®em one bit. The road moves whenever he¡¯s nearby. Everyone fucking laughs, but you aren¡¯t gonna, are you?¡± James gave him a card with a couple numbers on it, collected the candy bar he¡¯d paid for, and headed back out to the parking lot. ¡°Speed bumps aren¡¯t the only thing that¡¯ve come out of the Route.¡± He told the other two as he bit into the wafer bar. He paused, and glared at the candy in his hand; it was the first candy he¡¯d paid for in a while, and he decided he didn¡¯t like it. ¡°There¡¯s something that the clerk there at least thinks is person shaped. And the speed bumps are moving around it. Might be following it, or it might actually be controlling them.¡± ¡°Okay, *that¡¯s* a problem.¡± El said. ¡°We need to kill that.¡± ¡°Do we?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°No, she¡¯s right this time.¡± James shot a nod at El. ¡°The speed bumps are probably something close to what we¡¯d call yellow life. But if they¡¯re dancing to something else¡¯s tune? We¡¯ve seen the things that do that.¡± Anesh grimaced. ¡°Greens.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James agreed grimly. ¡°And that means the dungeon is up to something. And with everything we know is going on? I¡¯m not super inclined to let keep doing whatever it¡¯s doing.¡± ¡°Okay. How do we track it down?¡± El asked. ¡°Oh, no idea.¡± James shook his head. ¡°We¡¯d have to get lucky, find some of the speedbumps, then maybe a stakeout? And honestly, it¡¯s¡­¡± he checked his phone, ¡°...it¡¯s almost one AM?! Shit, no wonder I¡¯m tired. Okay. Sleep. Then tomorrow, you two can go hunting while I talk to the realtor.¡± ¡°Guard shifts again?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± James sighed and shook his head. ¡°Getting tired of this. This place feels spooky as all hell.¡± ¡°We should call in backup.¡± Anesh suggested. ¡°Guys?¡± El said softly. ¡°I suppose it is time to cut our vacation short.¡± James admitted. ¡°Get a chunk of the Order in here.¡± ¡°Guys!¡± El¡¯s voice picked up. James and Anesh weren¡¯t idiots, contrary to popular opinion. The instant they actually realized how worried El sounded through the tired haze around their minds, they looked over sharply. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± James asked instantly. El just pointed across the parking lot, past half a row of dead trees and barkdust that separated them from the road. The road itself was a very mild hill that climbed to their right, and dropped off to level ground farther left where it met a big traffic circle intersection in front of a strip mall. And because of how open the space was, except for evenly spaced street lamps, they had a great view of what El had spotted. The engine noise of the battered grey pickup hit James¡¯ perception shortly after he realized what he was looking at. The car was flying down the hill at an irresponsible speed, a pair of humans hanging on in the bed of the truck for dear life. Someone was leaned out the passanger window, twisted to face behind them, and as another loud engine cough sounded, James realized that what he was hearing was gunfire. Then the truck blew past them, screaming through the intersection without even blinking at the red light. And a second later, a school of speed bumps followed after, flowing in ripples through the pavement that looked surreal and otherworldly in the pale orange light of the streetlights. What makes it look a lot more otherworldly was the humanoid figure in the flapping black cloak, face obscured by a dark hood, standing tilted forward on the back of one of the speed bumps, riding it after the escaping truck. ¡°What the bloody hell¡­¡± Anesh exclaimed, while El limply let her pointing arm drop down to her side, mouth hanging slightly open in confusion. James¡¯ eyes glittered. ¡°A lead!¡± He announced enthusiastically. ¡°Let¡¯s fucking go!¡± He yelled, sprinting for the car, shortly followed by his cohorts. The problem was, even if the city wasn¡¯t that big to begin with, they actually did have an amount of respect for traffic signals. And mixed with the lead their target had on them, it didn¡¯t take long for everyone to realize they weren¡¯t going to catch up if the driver had decided to just get the fuck out of town and not look back. ¡°Alright, fuck it.¡± James spoke into the radio. ¡°I¡¯m lost, and we¡¯re clearly not finding them. But we all saw that, right? Over.¡± ¡°I saw it.¡± Anesh grumbled. ¡°I wish I hadn¡¯t. This is boiling over, fast.¡± ¡°I saw it *first*.¡± El¡¯s words through the two-way overlapped Anesh¡¯s. ¡°Anyone got a good explanation for that? Cause that was fucked up.¡± ¡°I got nothing.¡± James admitted. ¡°It¡¯s inconsistent with the dungeon¡¯s behavior. So either we¡¯re missing a major piece of this puzzle, or there¡¯s someone else fucking around here. Over.¡± ¡°She¡¯s never gonna say over, no matter how many times you do it.¡± Anesh stage whispered to him. When El¡¯s voice did come back, it was a bit resigned. ¡°Whatever. You guys mind if we call it for tonight? We¡¯re near my house and I wanna grab a burger and make sure my mom¡¯s doing okay.¡± Anesh took the radio from James, who was busy pulling over to park while they talked, and replied. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re wiped too. Reconnect tomorrow after James¡¯ meeting?¡± He paused for just a second, and then added, ¡°Over.¡± James was cackling through El¡¯s acknowledgement. _____ The next day dawned. No one had answered their texts back to the Order. James tried calling, and got a busy signal. According to Jeanne, she hadn¡¯t been able to call her family either. James had politely excused himself to the bathroom of the Waffle House they were eating at, and had screamed into his coat for a few minutes. Then he¡¯d calmly come back, and asked Anesh to look into that, while he went and talked to a realtor. They¡¯d finished breakfast, politely asked the waitress for a small dish of water so Rufus and Ganesh could wash the syrup off their faces, and tipped with a thousand bucks and a small yellow. On the way back to the motel, Ava had asked them what the orbs were. James, happy to have his mind taken off things, had explained, and capped off his rambling, tangent filled monologue by asking if she wanted to try one. He¡¯d also offered one to Jeanne, and done the ¡®if your mom says it¡¯s okay¡¯ thing, to cover his bases. Surprisingly, she did say it was okay, and James handed them a couple orbs from his coat pockets. Ava got a rank in meteorology and global weather pattern recognition. Her mom got a rank in formatting recipe books. James explained that this was about normal, and then the rest of the walk was a conversation on how he was using the word ¡®normal¡¯ wrong. El met them at the door to their motel to complain about her phone being broken. Then she¡¯d actually filled them in on what she meant to, which was that when she¡¯d gone to a drive thru last night after splitting up, she¡¯d asked the staff if they¡¯d noticed anything weird. And she had *also* gotten a ¡°you¡¯re the second person to ask that¡± from them. Except this time, they had a description for her; some blonde kid wearing armor. El had made a comment about a bulletproof vest, and been corrected; the kid was wearing *plate mail*. James tried to assign El to deal with that, but she waved him off. She was meeting up with a friend today. He tried to assign *Anesh* to that, but Anesh was already busy. Jeanne said she could try, but James wasn¡¯t sure he wanted an unarmed, untrained, barely initiated civilian getting into a potentially dangerous situation. Jeanne had glared at him, and demanded he arm her then. Jeanne got James¡¯ spare handgun, a long range radio, Ganesh, and instructions to run if anything seemed even slightly suspicious. Then she assigned herself to asking questions around town. Then James had to rush to not be late for his meeting. _____ Of all the dungeontech from Officium Mundi, there were absolutely standout hits. The nerf gun that shot balls of superheated plasma, the laser pointer that broadcast emotions, the binder that converted kinetic force into paperwork. All great, useful beyond belief, lifesavers. Of course, different members of the Order had their own favorites. Most people had a pair of headphones they favored at this point. One person had found a little plant pot that grew anything planted in it into a succulent, and that ¡®anything¡¯ included everything from gemstone to meat. Someone had a dress shirt that removed back pain. And another aspirant had at some point acquired a desk lamp that gradually recovered lost personal effects. All of that was cool. But to James, none of it held a candle to his actual favorite magic item. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± He smoothly greeted the receptionist at the desk of Sunshine Realty while he reached into the breast pocket of the suit jacket he was wearing. ¡°Fred Timman, New York, Fidelity Investments, I¡¯m here to see Mr. Stephens?¡± As James spoke he words, the magic of the suit jacket materialized an appropriately ostentatious business card under his fingertips, which he drew out and handed to the grey haired woman who was eyeing him with raised eyebrows over her thick glasses. This jacket was James¡¯ favorite. Partially because it was hilarious and made him feel incredibly suave, but also partially because the contact numbers on the generated business cards were *real*, and some kind of potentially unethical memetic effect would make his cover bulletproof for exactly ten minutes. Or until refreshed. The woman took his card, looked at it, then back up at him. ¡°I don¡¯t have a meeting scheduled.¡± She said without checking. ¡°Oh, I know.¡± James told her with a brash smile. Here, finally, the half dozen business etiquette orbs he had could kick in and do their dark work. ¡°Ya¡¯ll wouldn¡¯t even pencil me in. But I¡¯ve got a deal Stephens is going to want to hear, and playing hard to get is only gonna work for so long.¡± He smiled again and leaned on the desk. ¡°Also I couldn¡¯t call. All the phones are down.¡± ¡°Someone ran into a cell tower.¡± An angry man¡¯s voice cut across the office¡¯s chilly air. ¡°I told you yesterday, we¡¯re not looking to hire anyone.¡± ¡°Hire me?¡± James¡¯s persona tilted his head back and laughed deeply. ¡°I¡¯m not looking for a *job*.¡± He told the man. ¡°I¡¯m here to offer you a deal.¡± Mark Stephens was a cautious man most days. And something about the grin James was giving him put him off; it seemed a little too smooth. But then, this was some jackass from a big city who probably thought he could just stroll in here and buy the place. And if there was one thing Stephens wanted, it was a chance to shove it in this guy¡¯s face. ¡°You¡¯ve got ten minutes. Step into my office.¡± He said, with his own rude grin splitting his face under his salt and pepper mustache. In his head, James laughed. This had worked on the first realtor he¡¯d talked to, too. Once you got the trick down, it was almost too easy. ¡°This must be how JP feels all the time.¡± He muttered, riding high on a feeling of social invulnerability as he stepped into Stephen¡¯s office. ¡°Okay.¡± The middle aged man dropped heavily into a swivel chair and didn¡¯t offer a seat to James. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°A certain industrial corporation is looking for a large portion of land to develop.¡± James said, purposefully vague. ¡°They don¡¯t just want to build factories, though. They need space for workers, services, the whole thing. Company town in all but name. We¡¯re looking to buy out as much of this hamlet as possible, and it *seems*, Mr. Stephens, that you already own a fair chunk of it.¡± ¡°So what if I do?¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ve got an early offer for you, that I think you¡¯ll find very lucrative.¡± James said with a slimy tone. ¡°After all, whoever sells first is going to get the best offer.¡± Stephens was pretending to read something on his computer while playing solitaire. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve got the wrong guy.¡± He said. ¡°Not sure what you¡¯ve heard, but I won¡¯t be selling to you.¡± ¡°Oh? Interesting. Your peers in town all pointed to you as owning the largest share. Just thought we¡¯d give you the opening offer.¡± James said, standing from the uncomfortable chair he¡¯d occupied and dusting his coat off. ¡°Well¡­¡± He trailed off, turning and idly moving for the door. ¡®Take the bait.¡¯ James thought to himself. ¡®Tell me something you shouldn¡¯t.¡¯ ¡°Hang on!¡± Stephens¡¯ voice was a little more panicked than it should have been. ¡°What did you hear?¡± James turned, face neutral. ¡°Only that you owned the largest portion of the town. You¡¯ve done well on your collective buyout, haven¡¯t you? Been a little faster than the others, hm? That¡¯s smart.¡± He didn¡¯t miss that the wannabe mogul preened under the praise. ¡°But this town is emptying out. It¡¯s dying.¡± And again, James didn¡¯t miss that the man *flinched* at the word choice. ¡°Property with no one to rent to? That won¡¯t bring you profit. But I¡¯m offering you an escape plan. Sell to us, everything you¡¯ve got, and get a good deal. Retire. Never worry about money again. Hmm?¡± Stephens looked like he was considering it, but he came to the conclusion James was leading him to quickly. ¡°You¡¯ll use my properties to pressure the others to sell.¡± He said, pointing a meaty finger at James. ¡°Yup.¡± James admitted. ¡°But what do you care? You¡¯ll already be rich.¡± ¡°I play poker with ¡®my peers¡¯.¡± He put on a nasaly mocking tone for those words. ¡°You¡¯re asking me to betray my friends.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll still get paid, if they¡¯ve done their jobs.¡± James said, going with the flow of conversation. He had fully immersed himself in the role now, and something in the back of his mind told him Stephens was just a half step away from telling him *something*. ¡°Besides. Even if you call it betrayal, one of you has to sell first. Why not you?¡± And James could practically see the gears turning, as the man in front of him put together the puzzle he¡¯d been offered. This guy wasn¡¯t *stupid*. And that¡¯s why it was a surprise when he came to a conclusion rapidly and firmly. ¡°No.¡± He growled at James. ¡°None of us will be selling to you, mister Timman. Get out of our town.¡± James raised his eyebrows, but didn¡¯t say anything. None of them? Their town? Well wasn¡¯t *that* interesting. The rest of the conversation was insults and threats, before James strutted out of the building and pulled away in what appeared to be an angry huff. The drive to the next office gave him a little time to think. Everything about that interaction had been suspicious. When he¡¯d hit up the first of the town¡¯s four realtors, he¡¯d done the persona to get a foot in the door, not because they were *actually* suspicious. But after Stephens, he was starting to feel like there was something a lot deeper going on with these people. Their town. *Their* town. What kind of people bought a town for fun? If they¡¯d been taking advantage of dungeon conditions to make some quick cash, that would be one thing. Shitty, sure, but not an existential threat. But that guy had made it sound like it was more than that. Were they dealing with a full on dungeon cult? It was adding up that way. But James wanted to do a little more digging before he went in guns blazing. By the time he made it to his next destination, the woman who ran the office had heard he was coming. ¡°Yes, Ms. Terry is aware of you, Mr. Timman.¡± The employee who answered the door had told him. ¡°She is uninterested in your offer. Fuck off.¡± And then, with a door slammed in his face, James had returned to his car with a puzzled look. ¡°Way more aggressive than I was expecting.¡± He spoke to himself, sorting out his thoughts. ¡°Either I¡¯m flagrantly misunderstanding how dedicated realtors are to each other, and this is some kind of secret guild I didn¡¯t know about, or else these guys are in *deep* with each other.¡± He watched the building through his rear view mirror, almost snickering as he saw the blinds snap closed from someone ducking away from watching him. ¡°Okay.¡± James reordered his thoughts. ¡°Dungeon feel in town, majority of town owned by four-ish people, monsters in the streets, cell service down¡­¡± He paused, narrowed his eyes, looked down at his hands. Took a second to go over that information again. And then, snapped his head back up. ¡°This is some Scooby Doo bullshit, isn¡¯t it?!¡± He barked out. ¡°No, no, fuck! The guy last night even had a mysterious black cloak on! That¡¯s not *fair*!¡± He slapped his steering wheel in frustration, and instinctively went to text Anesh before getting the notice that he still had no service on his phone. ¡°Ugggghhhh.¡± James hammered his head back into the seat cushion. ¡°God dammit. This is going to be so dumb, isn¡¯t it? This is just a regular criminal conspiracy using dungeon stuff. I¡¯m almost disappointed.¡± He shook off the feeling of exasperation. ¡°Alright, one more.¡± He muttered, and started the car. There was still one more realtor who¡¯d been buying up cheap property, and James wasn¡¯t going to make a stupid conclusion without being thorough. _____ ¡°Where¡¯s James?¡± Jeanne asked as she was let into their motel room by Anesh, her daughter in tow. ¡°Still out lying to businesspeople. Why, what¡¯s up?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Oh, also, the phone thing is weird and I do need to keep looking into it, so I don¡¯t want to take too long.¡± ¡°Someone left a note on my car.¡± Jeanne said, handing the folded paper to Anesh. He put aside his worries about phone connectivity instantly and took it from her, opening the page to see words written in a flowery script and thick ink. ¡®You are looking for me. We wish to meet. Highway 122, 10 PM, tonight.¡¯ ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°What?¡± Jeanne looked confused. ¡°Isn¡¯t this good? This means at least one other person isn¡¯t¡­ an enemy? A bad guy? Is that how you¡¯d say it?¡± ¡°We try not to say ¡®bad guy¡¯, since that¡¯ll get James and Alanna talking in circles forever about ethics. But yeah, no, this would work perfectly on James, who loves this kind of theatrics. But me? I¡¯m just seeing a massive opportunity for a trap, and I think we should skip town at this point. Teleport out, come back better prepared. I should have done it today, but I admit, I got distracted following the trail of devastation around city infrastructure.¡± Jeanne jerked back. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Oh yeah, someone demolished three cell towers, and a broadband hub point.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Stuff is escalating, fast, and-¡± Ava jumped in, tacking into Anesh¡¯s leg and staring up at him. ¡°You can teleport?!¡± She demanded. ¡°Yes. No. Yes.¡± Anesh faltered. ¡°Um¡­ yes, we can teleport. But I only have two uses of it left, and we¡¯d want to make sure everyone leaves safely, and¡­ it¡¯s a logistics thing.¡± Jeanne pulled her daughter back and set her on the bed, admonishing her to not grab people at random. ¡°So someone is cutting off the phones?¡± ¡°And internet.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Everyone thinks its just a single car crash that messed one thing up, but it happened in multiple places.¡± ¡°People are going to notice that, right?¡± ¡°Almost right away.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°So we need to find James, fast, because whatever they have planned, it¡¯ll be happening relatively soon. Assuming it¡¯s not just random vandalism.¡± ¡°Can you¡­ can you teleport to him?¡± Jeanne asked cautiously. ¡°I don¡¯t know how your power works.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not a power. It¡¯s a notepad.¡± Anesh clarified. ¡°You write a destination on it and then you go there. Moves up to six people.¡± He hummed. ¡°Problem is, we can¡¯t go to ¡®James¡¯. Where is he, right now?¡± ¡°He had an order to the realtors he was going to visit.¡± Jeanne said. ¡°We can go to the last one, and wait?¡± Anesh nodded slowly, unfolding his arms. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not a bad plan.¡± He admitted. ¡°Yeah, okay. I¡¯m nervous enough staying here. It¡¯s well past time we evacuated. Grab Rufus and everyone circle up. We¡¯ll come back for luggage and stuff later. I think at this point, getting you two safely out of here is the most important thing.¡± ¡°Is Hidden people?¡± Ava asked quietly. ¡°Yes. But, as far as the telepad is concerned, you¡¯re not moving her.¡± Anesh told the young girl. ¡°But even if she did count, that¡¯s still six of us. So. Ready?¡± He held up the note pad onto which he¡¯d written down ¡®Across the street from Golden Valley Property Management¡¯. ¡°Yes!¡± Ava squeaked. ¡°What do we need to do?¡± Jeanne asked, letting Rufus rest in the palm of her hand. Anesh nodded at her. ¡°Hold hands, and let your daughter tear the page off.¡± ¡°Why her?¡± ¡°She seems like she¡¯s most excited.¡± Anesh admitted. They linked arms, and Jeanne put a hand on her daughter¡¯s head as the young girl reached out and dramatically ripped the page away with a solid tug. They arrived safely, Ava laughing gleefully and Anesh jerking in surprise as his map updated to inform him that his destination was on the left. And after that, they really didn¡¯t like what they found. _____ James had, he would later be willing to admit, made a mistake. He¡¯d assumed that because this was some Scooby Doo bullshit, that the other humans involved had all sort of capped their level of hostility at ¡®mostly harmless jerks¡¯. Possibly with masks. There was an outside chance they had very good masks, and maybe a fog machine. He was three blocks away from the last little office complex that he was going to try to wring information out of today, when the attack came. The attack he probably should have anticipated, but was caught completely off guard by. Though to be fair to him, he wouldn¡¯t have seen it coming anyway. The first thing James knew was wrong was that his car was lurching sideways. He¡¯d been on a main thoroughfare, and the lack of citizens in the city had made traffic a breeze, so he was slightly speeding on top of the already decent speed limit. And then, without warning, there was the screaming of metal tearing, a pair of cacophonous bangs, and the world was titling sideways. James was augmented. It had become so much a part of his daily life that it wasn¡¯t even difficult for him to keep his perception augmentations on at least a little bit at all times. But no amount of reaction speed could have prepared him for the horizon rapidly tilting ninety degrees sideways. The wheel had stopped responding, but he was still holding onto it. The airbag¡¯s hiss as it deployed somehow filled his ears over the shattering glass as the driver¡¯s side of the car slammed into the pavement and momentum pushed it forward, grinding away the window that he was now being pulled into by gravity. He¡¯d had a split second to brace himself, and only an instant longer to realize what was happening, and then, everything was physics and sharp edges and he was slammed around like a rag doll at fifty miles an hour. Then the car made use of enough friction to slide to a stop, the noise of metal squealing against the road mercifully ending even if the echo did ring in his ears. And James was left to slump limply against his seatbelt, pushed back by the airbag. Two dozen small cuts across his face and arms were already healing. Upgraded endurance had mingled with enhanced bone density to keep his left arm from shattering when he¡¯d hit the frame of the car, and now it bolstered his improved clotting speed to seal over wounds at a superhuman rate. But nothing that James had could do much about whatever he¡¯d slammed his forehead into at high speed, leaving his brain sluggish and vision spinning through the haze of a concussion. Through the spiderwebbed cracks in the windshield, James saw boots approaching. Two sets of legs moving toward his car. There was something wrong with them, he thought. Something wrong. Because they were¡­ walking. Yeah. They were going too slow. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, they were standing right there, one of them leaning down to peer at him through the broken window. Tapping on the glass, held together with sheer middle finger energy, with something that made a metal scratching against the cracked material. Oh. They had a gun. James fumbled for his seatbelt, but his fingers wouldn¡¯t move properly. This was, he decided with a Herculean effort, *bad*. Then something else impacted his window. And he let his lips slip into a slightly drooling grin as he let out a dazed chuckle. Because someone had just slammed that guy¡¯s face into his car. Twice, judging by the number of impacts he heard. James could hear shouting, and at least one bang that was probably a gunshot. And then another thud on the side of his car, before silence. Somewhere between twenty seconds and two days passed, with him sitting there, laying sideways in the wreckage of his brand new road trip car. He had just figured out how to unbuckle his seatbelt, and shoved away the deflating airbag, when the passenger door cracked open and rained tiny shards of broken glass down onto him. The sun overhead burned his eyes as he looked up. But even through the pain, the concussion, the distant fury at someone trying to kill him again, and now the indignity of light sensitivity, James still found the energy to give a goofy grin as someone leaned down to offer him a hand up. ¡°Ohhey.¡± He slurred out, tongue not obeying him properly. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you in a while.¡± ¡°Come on.¡± Alanna said, not acknowledging what he¡¯d said, as she grabbed him under the shoulder and hauled him out of the wreck. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta go before this gets worse. You really pissed someone off.¡± James didn¡¯t argue. Partially because he agreed with her, but also, mostly, because he felt unconsciousness calling to him. As he slid down the undercarriage of his vehicle, the last remaining chunk of his perception noticed that there were a pair of asphalt spikes driven through what used to be his driver¡¯s side wheels. Then, he also found he was a lot closer to answering that call than he¡¯d thought. Arms caught him as he fell, and the last thing he knew was the feeling of being carried. Chapter 157 ¡°What if every living soul could be upright and strong? Well then I do imagine, there would be, sorrow, no more.¡± - Bad Religion, Sorrow - _____ The first word James attempted to say upon cracking his eyes open was ¡°Ow.¡± It didn¡¯t really work, and instead came out as a sticky rasp, his throat dry and his mouth in pain. He poked at the inside of his cheek with his tongue and tasted stale blood along with the shot of pain from the tip of his tongue itself. Then he tried to roll over and grab the bottle of water he kept on his nightstand, moving to maneuver around Anesh if he was still sleeping, and it was at this point that James remembered that he wasn¡¯t in his own bed. ¡°Shit.¡± Was the second word he tried to say. It came out close to sounding like actual language. Close, but not quite. ¡°You¡¯re awake!¡± A girl¡¯s voice near him whispered. James looked up to see a thin kid, face covered by freckles and dirt, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. She¡¯d dropped the book she was reading in surprise with a thud onto the wooden floor, and James tried to get his vision to focus as the girl bolted out the door of the room. He¡¯d *wanted* to ask for some water. But his head was still in a fog, and he hadn¡¯t been quite fast enough. Also, actually saying words sounded like quite a lot more effort than he was willing to put in right now. So instead, he looked around where he¡¯d been dumped. He was on a mattress with a pile of blankets that was otherwise bare. The room didn¡¯t have any other furniture in it, except for the chair and lamp. A bare wooden floor led into a closet empty of everything but a few cardboard boxes, and walls with nothing on them but a few stray holes from long gone screws. James had seen low budget porn sets with more effort put into them. He was still dressed, but someone had cut away one of his pant legs and wrapped a heavy dressing around his calf. He didn¡¯t remember anything cutting him there, but then, he didn¡¯t remember much of anything. His sock on that side was crusted with dried blood, enough that he was willing to believe he¡¯d been hurt pretty bad. His shoes were on the floor next to him, but James didn¡¯t move to put them on just yet. Instead, he hauled himself up, braced his back against the wall, and thought. Someone had just tried to kill him. Someone, James thought with an amount of relish, or some *thing*. But no, seriously. He¡¯d just been attacked by at least one thing that could manipulate asphalt the same way both he, and Route Predation could. The list of suspects in this, the crime of the century, was vanishingly small. Either the dungeon had gotten sick of his shit and just tried the world¡¯s most pitiful alpha strike, or the cult of property magnate Scooby-Doo villains had panicked, and made a move. James had a thought as to which was more likely. And if weren¡¯t for what the attack had caused as a side effect, he would be *pissed*. He was still pissed, honestly. But also, Alanna. James was reasonably sure that he hadn¡¯t been hallucinating. He had, and it pained him incredibly to say this, been hit in the head a lot in the last couple years. He¡¯d become something of a connoisseur of blunt force trauma. And so far, none of it had actually made him hallucinate. The only times he¡¯d seen a person who wasn¡¯t there had been in a few scattered dreams and nightmares. Which meant Alanna had just saved his life. Which meant Alanna was *here*. It was likely that the girl who¡¯d bolted out of the room when he¡¯d woken up had gone to get her, in fact. And James suddenly realized he didn¡¯t know what the upcoming conversation was going to look like. Alanna had been gone for *months*. Whether she had a good reason or not, she¡¯d never even tried to contact them, as far as they could tell. And that really, really hurt. What was he even supposed to say to her? James didn¡¯t have an answer. He just had a bundle of anxieties. And he still hadn¡¯t resolved them when Alanna walked into the room, the smaller girl tailing behind her and hiding around the doorframe to peek at James. ¡°Hey.¡± Was his brilliant opening conversational gambit. Alanna eyed him suspiciously. ¡°You healed up way too fast.¡± She said in a kind of flat tone. The look she gave James was appraising, but weirdly distant. After a moment of him being confused, then worried about her, she stuck her hand out. ¡°I¡¯m Alanna. You seem alright, welcome to our hideout. You¡¯re confused, I¡¯ll explain in a minute.¡± James took her hand and gave it a slow shake. ¡°I¡­ know.¡± He said, narrowing his eyes in further confusion. ¡°You know what?¡± ¡°Your name. Obviously. Or did¡­¡± James trailed off, seeing Alanna take a halting step back, her eyes going wide. ¡°Oh. Oh!¡± His own eyes widened in a mirror of hers. ¡°You don¡¯t remember! Oh holy shit, *that¡¯s* why you never came back! Oh this is so much less anxiety!¡± He threw himself backward on the bed, and instantly regretted it, coughing hard as his back protested and his throat ached. ¡°Who are you?¡± Alanna demanded softly. ¡°Sorry, sorry¡­¡± James rolled over and sat up, coughing. He slid to the side of the bed, letting his feet touch the cool floor. He was dizzy, but upright, and planning to stay that way. ¡°I¡¯m James. We¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve been looking for you for a while now. Thought you might have been dead. Then I saw you earlier, and I¡¯ve been worrying about what to say, and figuring out why you left. Amnesia, though? Oh my *god* is that a relief! This is just a mild obstacle! I was worried something had gone seriously wrong.¡± Alanna stared at the stranger she¡¯d saved only hours previously, trying to figure out what the game was. Her emotion sense power was telling her that he *wasn¡¯t kidding*, which was weird on its own. Most people didn¡¯t just say how they felt, especially not to her. But when he said he was worried, and then relieved, he legitimately meant it. He felt those things deeply and personally, and it left Alanna more concerned than before. He said he knew her. He was looking for her. And he¡¯d been worried about her. And in the back of her mind, in the part that itched like a scab she couldn¡¯t pick, she *knew* he was telling the truth. But she couldn¡¯t see the details. ¡°Are you¡­ like me?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you mean the superpowers?¡± James raised an eyebrow. ¡°Not the same as yours, but yes. Also can I have some water? Dehydration resistance isn¡¯t something I¡¯ve picked up yet.¡± Alanna folded her arms across her chest, nodding at the girl behind her to grab a cup of water for their guest. ¡°Is that a thing?¡± She asked. ¡°Huh? Oh. No. I¡¯m just being a wiseass.¡± ¡°Do you do that a lot?¡± She asked him, already knowing the answer as soon as she said it. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever considered not doing that.¡± James smiled at her. Then blinked when she didn¡¯t smile back. ¡°Right.¡± He trailed off, a spike of pain in his heart. ¡°Right¡­ this again.¡± Suddenly, he felt like crying. Hot tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, the feeling of suddenly losing someone all over again flooding back in. He noticed Alanna blink, and glance away from him, clearly having been reading him as strongly as she could, but he didn¡¯t comment on it. ¡°Well fuck.¡± He said, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands. ¡°Now I know what Sarah felt like, I guess.¡± James took the offered cup from the blonde girl who¡¯d come running back into the room to offer it to him, ducking past Alanna to do so. She bolted again as soon as James had said ¡°Thank you¡±, and it gave him a little bit of joy to see her antics, countering the sorrow in his chest. ¡°Who¡¯s Sarah?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°A partner?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s you and Anesh.¡± James told her with a sigh. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t know what you don¡¯t know, so this is gonna be awkward at least once.¡± ¡°You¡¯re trying to tell me I¡¯m a fed, like you?¡± Alanna snorted. ¡°Pick a better story.¡± James blinked and looked up at her, abandoning his attempts to itch at his bandaged leg. ¡°Sorry, what? A fed¡­ oh! No, sorry, the FBI ID card is fake! I can see why that would be confusing. I meant, like, *partners* partners. Um¡­ holy shit, this is beyond awkward. Can I ask, do you remember anything?¡± Alanna didn¡¯t mind answering. ¡°I remember my name. A few other small things. A lot of really bizarre information, but none of it personal. Pretty much nothing else before I woke up in Florida. And then I get¡­ eh, not sure what to call ¡®em. Hunches? Instincts, maybe?¡± ¡°Why the fuck were you in Florida?¡± James couldn¡¯t help but ponder. ¡°Anesh¡­ okay, so to catch you up; we¡¯re the founders of an organization that wants to make the world better. Some people took offense to that, and tried to kill us all. Anesh teleported you out, then came back, and died, so we didn¡¯t know where he *sent* you. That¡¯s why we haven¡¯t come to find you, if you were worried.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the part of that sentence I¡¯m worried about.¡± Alanna said dryly, making a disbelieving noise in her throat. Behind her, her friend let out a soft giggle, and James heard a couple more laughs from the hallway. They¡¯d been joined by a few other people, it would seem. ¡°See, this is why I love you. You¡¯re as much a wiseass as I am.¡± James couldn¡¯t help but smile at her, just a goofy little grin on his face. ¡°Anyway. Where did you wake up? Like, where in Florida.¡± ¡°Across the street from the city hall in a shitty little town called Safety Harbor.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°It seemed more or less random, so-¡° ¡°Are you fucking kidding me.¡± James rubbed at his forehead. ¡°Anesh just wrote ¡®safety¡¯ on the telepad, and assumed it would work. I¡¯m gonna kill him.¡± He looked off toward the window with eyes peeled open. ¡°I should call him, actually. Where¡¯s my phone?¡± ¡°Nightstand. Phones are still down. Though yours survived somehow. And you said he died.¡± Alanna told him matter of factly. James shrugged. ¡°He has backups. Look, are you really surprised? You¡¯re a human lie detector, and judging by your choice of hobbies, you *probably* know you¡¯re bulletproof. And I¡¯m in the process of walking off a car crash, so come on. Extra bodies isn¡¯t that weird.¡± ¡°It¡¯s kind of that weird.¡± Alanna shook her head at him. ¡°Whatever. So, you know who I am. And I¡¯m supposed to know you. Why don¡¯t¡­ why don¡¯t I feel anything?¡± She asked, staring at an open hand. ¡°I get that you think you¡¯re feeling certain stuff, unless you¡¯re a phenomenally good liar. But there¡¯s no breakthrough or anything. Just¡­ this. I thought this would be more dramatic.¡± ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll come back to you.¡± James said quietly. ¡°Maybe we can help with the skulljacks. Maybe it never comes back, and we¡¯ll just have to move on. Doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re here, and you¡¯re alive, and I¡¯m happy.¡± His smile slipped a little, but held. ¡°You can come back with us if you want. It today was any indication, you went right back to saving people anyway, so you¡¯ll fit in at least.¡± ¡°Sad, but determined.¡± Alanna whispered to herself, reading the ripples of emotion coming off of James. ¡°Hey, how come you¡¯re in this town anyway?¡± She asked out loud. ¡°Oh. Um¡­ either we¡¯re here to help a friend save the city, or we¡¯re here because a living idea has been screaming for help in our dreams and we followed the voice. I¡¯m not sure which one yet, honestly? But they¡¯re kind of the same.¡± James sighed, the heavy breath bringing with it a fresh wave of dizziness. ¡°Ugh. Oh, right. And now we¡¯re here to deal with the plot to an episode of Scooby-Doo, and I am so mad I almost died to that.¡± ¡°Most people wouldn¡¯t be mad about *how* they almost died.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°Eh.¡± James flapped a hand. ¡°Why are you here, actually?¡± ¡°The second thing you said.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°I think. Something¡¯s been pulling me here. And this town is in trouble.¡± ¡°No kidding.¡± James grimaced. ¡°Okay.¡± He held out a hand, and looked up at Alanna¡¯s stern face, her eyes still appraising him with every moment. ¡°What?¡± She said, raising her eyebrows. James let his hand fall back to the mattress, and did his best to shove down how much that hurt. Instead, he pushed himself up to his feet. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡± He told her, taking a step forward and immediately regretting it as a searing pain shot up his leg. James winced, and tried to hide how bad that had been as he bent down to recover his shoes. ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere. I¡¯m not even sure I believe you. And even if I did, you shouldn¡¯t even be up right now.¡± Alanna still hadn¡¯t moved from her position by the door. ¡°Get some rest.¡± She said. ¡°Whatever¡¯s going on can wait a day or two.¡± ¡°I¡¯m really not sure it can.¡± James said. ¡°Everything¡¯s been going pear shaped in the last couple days. And it¡¯s absolutely not a coincidence that the phones are down *now*. I need to get in touch with Anesh or El at least.¡± He paused for a second, then added, ¡°Also if you don¡¯t believe me, we can seriously just solve that with the skulljacks. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve got a chunk of Ethernet cable around here, but¡­¡± He shrugged, tapping the back of his neck. Alanna¡¯s hand defensively went to her own skulljack, eyes narrowing. ¡°No.¡± She said, voice hard. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± ¡°I mean, fair. I said that a lot too.¡± James told her. ¡°It¡¯s not the kind of thing you wanna share with a stranger. But let me tell you, it solves problems like this *fast*, so the offer¡¯s still there. No pressure though.¡± Frowning, Alanna tried to figure out the man she¡¯d hauled out of the overturned car. There it was again from him; that spike of a deep, intense sorrow, that he almost reflexively tried to muffle with some stupid joke or a simple shrug. He was more earnest than most people she¡¯d met. And yeah, she wouldn¡¯t say it out loud, but there was something almost painfully familiar about him. Like there were a set of reflexive actions just on the edge of her mind. But the last few months had taught Alanna to be suspicious, to be cautious around anyone offering easy answers. So instead of what she was thinking, she just shot a single nod at James. ¡°Get some rest.¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯ll get a message to your friends.¡± As much as he hated to admit it, James was having trouble getting a single shoe on, and just passing out sounded pretty good right now. He wasn¡¯t quite prepared to just take a nap while the world ended though. But¡­ ¡°Alright.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ve got El¡¯s address saved in my phone. If they aren¡¯t there, Anesh and I are staying at the one open motel in the city.¡± ¡°Yeah, so was I.¡± Alanna rolled her eyes. ¡°That place sucks.¡± She turned to go, and over her shoulder, reminded James that ¡°We¡¯ll talk later. I¡¯ve still got a lot of questions for you.¡± ¡°No kidding.¡± James muttered, crawling back up onto the mattress, and letting himself just sink into its soft-enough surface. The thing was, he *wanted* to be out there. He burned to get back to the fight, to not leave Anesh high and dry, to make sure the little girl and her infomorph and everyone else in this stupid city were safe. But he needed a nap. And, he realized, he felt totally okay taking one. Alanna was on it. And he trusted her, even now. _____ ¡°What are we supposed to do?¡± Jeanne said, panic in her voice. It was not the first time she¡¯d said it, it would not be the last. She was trying, really, really trying, to set a good example for her daughter. But there was only so much she could focus on before fear crept in and her questions stopped being logical and started being rambling. They were about three blocks away from the wreckage that was distinctly absent a James-shaped corpse. Anesh had sent Jeanne running back to the motel to grab her own car, and had rapidly pilfered the crash site of the guns, armor, magic items, and trunk full of orbs before any first responders had shown up. It had been over an hour now, and none of them had, which said a lot about the state of the city. The unconscious forms on the street in front of the car had gotten up at some point, helped each other stumble away. They¡¯d be missing the guns they had on them, as well as their wallets; Anesh had taken those too, and recognized one of them as one of the realtors James had gone to speak with. He didn¡¯t feel bad stealing their shit. Right now, Anesh was wondering the same thing Jeanne was. ¡°What now, indeed.¡± He said softly, sitting in her back seat alongside Ava, an arm on the pair of long cases he¡¯d set in the middle of the car. Rufus and Ganesh had the front seat, and the young girl next to him was clearly trying her hardest to be on an adventure and not scared for her life. ¡°Where did he go? Why did he crash in the first place? I thought¡­ I thought¡­¡± ¡°The car had strike marks.¡± Anesh said, drawing on a vehicle repair skill orb. ¡°Something hit it, hard, from below. Someone tried to kill him. Car¡¯s still running though, so it¡¯ll heal over time - sorry, yes, that¡¯s a thing our car does, please don¡¯t ask. I don¡¯t know what we *do* though.¡± ¡°I have to get my daughter out of here.¡± Jeanne stated, conviction in her tone. Her hands were gripping the wheel so tight it hurt, even though they were currently parked on the side of the road. Despite the sunshine and thin clouds outside, it was a grim atmosphere within the car. ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh agreed. ¡°Okay. James is alive. He has to be. We stick to the plan; teleport out, get help, come back.¡± He pulled out the telepad, writing the specific syntax that would land them in the Lair¡¯s teleport receiving platform. ¡°Link up. Hold this.¡± He awkwardly maneuvered the box of orbs into Jeanne¡¯s arms, while he took an uncomfortable overcommitted grip on the gun cases. ¡°Ava, we need your help here. Think you can get us out of here?¡± He offered the girl what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and the nearly empty telepad. Her eyes brightened. ¡°Yes!¡± She said, gripping it in her teeth, one hand held out to her mom, the other used to pull the page. With a gleeful grin, she gave it a tug. The telepad didn¡¯t move. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Anesh looked at the magical artifact. ¡°Pull harder.¡± He said. Ava¡¯s face scrunched up as she adjusted her grip, her hand sweaty against her mom¡¯s grip. She wanted to growl at the telepad, but she *knew* that wouldn¡¯t make it work. So instead she just pulled harder. It still didn¡¯t move. So she braced her legs on the chair, put the telepad between her knees, and *pulled* as hard as she could. ¡°Um¡­!¡± Anesh stared to say, just before the telepad tore. The whole thing tore. Folded in half just a little too much, the cardboard backing ripped under the force, and it instantly dissolved into a blue orb, that dropped into Ava¡¯s lap. ¡°What happened?¡± Jeanne asked, eyes going wide. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± Ava yelled, holding out the orb for someone to take away. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to!¡± Anesh let his hands drop, setting the rifles back on the seat with a sigh. ¡°Okay, this is bad.¡± He said. And then, seeing Ava¡¯s almost crying expression, he clarified. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, Ava. That has literally never happened before. And we¡¯ve used these things thousands of times by now. They don¡¯t break like that just from trying to use them normally. That was¡­ that was different. Something is wrong.¡± ¡°So why didn¡¯t it work? Is it because of the¡­ idea?¡± Jeanne only barely stopped herself from saying something rude about Ava¡¯s non-imaginary friend. ¡°No, no. It worked fine the first time, remember? Something¡¯s changed.¡± Anesh frowned. ¡°No communication. No teleportation. The town¡¯s getting cut off. Deliberately. This is an outside force, and now we¡¯re really on the back foot. Damn. Damn and damn!¡± Anesh looked out the window at the cluster of pigeons winging by through the parking lot across the street from them. ¡°Okay¡­ okay. I have one idea.¡± He said. ¡°First off, you two need to get somewhere out of the way.¡± ¡°Where are we supposed to *go*?¡± Jeanne asked, bitterly. ¡°El¡¯s place. Her mom is nice, it¡¯s away from the motel that¡¯s probably compromised at this point, and we know we can meet up there later.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Yeah. And if my plan doesn¡¯t work, James can find you there.¡± ¡°What *is* your plan?¡± Ava¡¯s mom demanded. ¡°You got an invitation, right?¡± Anesh said, his heart hammering in his chest. ¡°I¡¯m going to go say hi.¡± He turned and met her eyes in the rear view mirror. ¡°And after that, I¡¯m going to drive as fast as I can for the next town that has a cell tower, and call in someone who can shoot fireballs at the problem.¡± ¡°How many wizards do you know?¡± Jeanne couldn¡¯t help but give a weak smile, seeing her daughter perk up at the mention. ¡°The better question,¡± Anesh stated, as he loaded up the saved map on his phone and passed it up to their driver, ¡°is how many wizards do we *employ*.¡± ______ ¡°You¡¯re back!¡± Reed greeted Momo as she kicked in the door to the supply closet he was trying to use as a private office. He¡¯d tried to make the place seem comfortable, but it felt like his desk was mostly just a laptop, too many random notes, and the only personal touch was a Newton¡¯s Cradle made of yellow orbs that his friends had made for him. ¡°How was Australia?¡± ¡°Well, it turns out, accidentally skipping quarantine procedures *is* a problem, and at least two of us are officially no longer allowed in the country.¡± Momo started, tossing her jacket onto the back of a chair that only barely fit in the room. ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to teleport back in a week to fly out so they think I¡¯m gone.¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°*You* were bragging that you¡¯d found a dungeon.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Momo glared at him. ¡°We did. It sucks. Half of us nearly died. That¡¯s not important, we¡¯ve got a problem.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no, that¡¯s *super* important.¡± Reed corrected her. ¡°You found the first dungeon from another part of the *world*. That¡¯s wild. Does it work differently? What¡¯s the wildlife like? Did you get any powers from it? I have so many questions.¡± He stopped, then sucked in a breath. ¡°What kind of problem?¡± Reed asked, reaching under the desk to a series of mounting hooks on the inside right panel, unclipping a series of Status Quo items that he started slipping on, before opening a drawer, popping open a hidden panel, and pulling out the dart gun that shot plasma balls. ¡°Not that kind of problem, *probably*.¡± Momo informed him. ¡°Holy shit dude, you just have that here?¡± ¡°Where else would we have it?¡± Reed asked, tiredly. ¡°Is anything on fire, or does anything need to be on fire?¡± ¡°Maybe. I¡¯ve got a few other people meeting up in a couple minutes upstairs. Come on. I¡¯ll fill you in there.¡± Momo ducked out into the concrete hall, propping the door open for him as he slid around his desk and followed her. ¡°So, Australia?¡± Reed asked as he moved to catch up to Momo, long legs eating up the gap quickly. ¡°Oh. It¡¯s a mountain.¡± Momo grimaced. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m not even sure you¡¯ll remember this! Seeing it, even in a picture, you won¡¯t remember unless you¡¯re looking right at it. Until you¡¯ve been inside at least once.¡± She shivered, cold despite the comfortable temperature in this basement. Reed gave her a sympathetic look. ¡°I was going to say there aren¡¯t any mountains around where you went, but I guess that answered that question.¡± ¡°Yeah. Well. It¡¯s sorta like the Sewer. You go in, and the exit isn¡¯t where you started. Except there isn¡¯t an exit, exactly. The exit will just show up, after a certain amount of time. Somewhere. That¡¯s it.¡± Momo rubbed at her arms. ¡°If you live.¡± She added. ¡°It¡¯s *cold*, dude. So cold. And we saw these massive spider things. And parts of the stone go in the wrong directions. It¡¯s¡­ fuck, it¡¯s bad. Like, it¡¯s *trying* to kill you, from minute one.¡± ¡°Is everyone okay?¡± Reed asked quietly as he hit the button for the elevator, glancing up at the strings of colored lights hung around the weird balcony that had appeared in this pseudo-lobby one day. ¡°Barely. Chevoy¡¯s in the hospital, Color-Of-Dawn lost a chunk of his tail. Liz almost got gutted, and I¡¯m not planning to tell her mom that.¡± The two of them stepped onto the elevator together, leaving the open area. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I was barely there. They were in for a lot longer than I was, I just came in at the end when I figured it out, to help them, then teleported out.¡± ¡°Oof.¡± Reed didn¡¯t know what to say. So, instead of staying quiet, he decided to put his foot in his mouth. ¡°Guess now we know the AI¡¯s lethality rating is accurate.¡± Momo punched him just under the ribcage, a pulled strike that still elicited a yelp of pain. ¡°Shut up.¡± She said, angry. ¡°Yeah, sorry.¡± Reed said, flushing red. ¡°I heard it as soon as I said it. So what are we doing about the mountain? Oh, did you name it?¡± ¡°The first ones in get to name it.¡± Momo said. ¡°It¡¯d be fuckin¡¯ unfair otherwise. And I dunno what we¡¯re doing. I¡¯m not good at the long term planning thing.¡± The elevator doors slid open thirty stories above LA, and the two of them stepped off into another city. The conference table behind a low wall on the left side of the office floor space, next to the big windows overlooking the sunset, was already occupied by a handful of other people. Karen was here, viciously ignoring Momo. Harvey was also present, looking like he¡¯d finally gotten a good night¡¯s sleep for once. Nate sat on the other side of the table, next to a chair awkwardly occupied by Texture-Of-Barkdust. The end of the table had a webcam and microphone setup on it, allowing the still nameless machine intelligence in the basement to listen in and participate. And rounding out their emergency council, looking uncertain about being included at the grownups table, Alex sat nervously drumming her fingers on the treated wood surface. ¡°Alright. Fill me in.¡± Reed said to Momo as the two of them took seats. He gave polite nods to the table, but all of them had broken the habit of making small talk at meetings like this. They were here to *solve problems*. If they wanted to be friends, they had the whole rest of their lives together, and they¡¯d have *more* time in the rest of their lives if they didn¡¯t fuck around once they sat down to chart a course forward. ¡°Okay. So.¡± Momo took a breath, and arranged her thoughts. ¡°Got back with everyone early yesterday.¡± She shot a look toward Alex who had come back with her. ¡°Had to take care of some stuff, but at a certain point, things were mostly stabilized. So I needed to check in with James about what to do about Mount Doom.¡± ¡°We are not-¡° Alex started to say, but a couple head shakes from the other people at the table quieted her. ¡°No, we¡¯re not naming it that.¡± Momo confirmed. ¡°So I shot him a message. And didn¡¯t get an answer. Which isn¡¯t weird, he¡¯s on vacation. But I kinda thought it was important, so I called.¡± She took a breath. ¡°And got an out of service message.¡± Momo looked around at the faces that had gone from interested to *concerned* very quickly. ¡°So I did the obvious next step, grabbed a couple camracondas and Dave, and tried to teleport to their motel.¡± ¡°*Tried*?¡± Harvey stretched the word out into a singular note of concern. ¡°Tried.¡± Momo said, face grim. ¡°And it didn¡¯t do anything.¡± She rapped the knuckles of a clenched fist on the table, resisting the urge to get up and pace around. ¡°So we started testing. Took about ten minutes to figure it out. We can teleport anywhere we want, as long as it¡¯s *not* within fifty miles of Townton, Tennessee. As far as I can tell, it¡¯s just a circle drawn around where James and Anesh are.¡± ¡°An attack?¡± Nate put forward. ¡°Or something gone wrong with the dungeon.¡± Alex suggested. ¡°Is there a dungeon there?¡± ¡°Confirmed Relevant Space. Low lethality. Strange conditions.¡± The AI spoke up. Texture-Of-Barkdust hissed. ¡°Both. Attack, from the dungeon.¡± ¡°I¡¯m concerned about the fact that the telepads aren¡¯t foolproof.¡± Harvey said. ¡°I know that¡¯s not the point here, but we *need* those, to do what we do.¡± ¡°I agree. And the good news is, solving that problem also solves the other problem.¡± Momo told him. ¡°We need to get in there, and help. Back them up, whatever¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t go in blind. And teleporting to the outskirts then heading into the exclusion zone is just going to put a target on us from whatever¡¯s doing it. It¡¯s a small town in the middle of nowhere. There¡¯s what, two highways that even come close?¡± Nate shook his head. ¡°We don¡¯t want to get caught out by whatever can do *this*.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a suggestion for that.¡± Reed spoke up. He was leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. Everyone looked over at him, a situation he still wasn¡¯t quite used to. He cleared his throat, and asked. ¡°Dave¡¯s still in the Lair, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m on it.¡± Nate said, rising out of his seat. ¡°I¡¯ll get a crew together.¡± Harvey also stood. ¡°Who here is going?¡± ¡°Me.¡± Alex and Momo said together ¡°We¡¯ve got combat effectiveness packages for the armory in the basement. I¡¯ll grab those for whoever¡¯s going.¡± Reed said. ¡°You two were gone when we found most of those, so it¡¯ll be a nice surprise.¡± Karen folded her hands under her chin, leaning on her hands as she watched them stand and start to move. She hadn¡¯t really been needed here, but her implicit support was important. So, she added her voice in the one way that mattered now. ¡°Good luck.¡± The grim faced woman told them. ¡°It feels like you¡¯re going to need it.¡± Reed paused, halfway through pushing his chair in. ¡°Sanity check. You don¡¯t think we¡¯re overreacting here, yeah?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Karen looked up. ¡°Oh. Almost certainly not. Being out of contact is one thing. Something interfering with our magic is entirely another. This is a problem, and we should respond, especially since we have people inside the zone.¡± She paused, then tapped the table. ¡°I¡¯m going to go file a flight plan.¡± Karen decided. ¡°With who?¡± Reed gave her a puzzled look. ¡°With the FAA, of course.¡± Karen replied. ¡°There¡¯s two people there who take my calls now. James authorized me to use the anti-cancer orbs to establish a network of contacts, so they¡¯ll cooperate. It¡¯s important, if you¡¯re going to be taking a dragon through used airspace, that you don¡¯t crash into a traffic helicopter or something like that.¡± ¡°I¡­ had not thought of that.¡± Reed paused. ¡°Should you really be bribing government officials?¡± He asked. ¡°If we don¡¯t, someone else will. In fact, many people already have. And I think it¡¯s telling that instead of bribing congressmen, I¡¯m simply incentivizing the people who keep our airspace safe to ignore the word ¡®dragon¡¯ and file the flight plan properly.¡± Karen replied. Reed nodded. ¡°Okay. I feel like I have more questions for everyone I¡¯ve talked to today. But I¡¯m going to go get the stuff I need together now, and worry about that later.¡± ¡°Good luck.¡± Karen repeated. ¡°Oh, and if you see Momo, do let her know I want to talk to her.¡± The words came out probably about as cold as the mountain that Momo and the others had been trapped on. Reed shivered slightly, and gave an affirmative, before hurrying back to his side of the basement. Good luck, indeed. _____ Anesh was not ready for this. He was driving nervously, taking advantage of the mostly empty roads to not really focus on what he was doing. Hands on the wheel of Jeanne¡¯s car, the unfamiliar pedals beneath his feet just jarring enough to make him even more uncomfortable. Something was *wrong* in this fucking town. Someone was trying to take it over, the dungeon was spewing out creatures into the world, communications were down, *teleportation didn¡¯t work*, and James was missing. Also Alanna was in town. He knew this for an absolute certainty, since his Map had updated him on it. That Map had started to go dormant since then, and Anesh knew that he¡¯d need to make a choice soon, to either let it fade away as a simple object, or to try to uplift it to personhood, ask it to stay, and give it a piece of his mind. Anesh wasn¡¯t ready. He wasn¡¯t an action movie hero. He wasn¡¯t the person you called for dramatic confrontations - James - or knock down fights - Alanna - he was just there to help. He was always there to help, he was their friend, their partner. A member of the Order. No, more than that; he was a Knight, dammit. But he wasn¡¯t ready. He was going to meet with someone. Someone he didn¡¯t know, but he had an almost oppressively bad feeling about. The winding road to the western highway out of town eating up time on his way to figure out where the hell he was supposed to stop and talk to whoever had found them. If he was very, very lucky? They¡¯d be a friend. Or even just an ally would be nice. But if not, Anesh wasn¡¯t taking chances. He was fully armored, armed, running through his list of magical options in his head. Prepared to fight, if and when it came to that. Which he had a sinking suspicion it would. But he didn¡¯t feel ready for this. Maybe it was because he was on his own. Every time Anesh had faced the unknown, he¡¯d done so alongside his partners, or other members of the Order. He wasn¡¯t *good* on his own. But right now, there weren¡¯t a lot of other options. He saw the meeting point before it was actually in view, and instantly, it reinforced his feeling that this was getting out of hand. As the main road out of town approached the highway, Anesh started to see a red glow in the distance, through the trees. It flickered lightly, even from this distance, like hell itself was waiting just around the next corner. Then he took the next bend in the road, and had to slow down rapidly. Because he¡¯s found all the other cars that should have been on the road. A line of vehicles, stretching so far forward that it went around another heavily forested curve to where the on ramp to the highway was. All of them parked. They weren¡¯t abandoned, which was good. That would have been a little too creepy. But they¡¯d clearly been stopped for a while, because there were a few people milling around on the side of the road. Anesh took a deep breath, and cracked his door, pulling himself up to see over the roof of his vehicle without needing to get out of the car. Which was convenient, because he really didn¡¯t want to walk up to a bunch of civilians with a rifle on. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± He called to one of the small clusters of people over on the shoulder. They looked up at his shout, and a couple of the men looked away. Anesh didn¡¯t need enhanced hearing to notice the mean looks and muttered slurs that he¡¯d been getting a lot of around here. But the last guy just gave him a straight answer, which was always appreciated. ¡°On ramp¡¯s closed. Some kinda crash!¡± He called back. ¡°Thanks!¡± Anesh called to him, and shifted back into the car. He thought for a second, and then made a decision. If the highway access was closed off, then no one was gonna be using the left lane anyway. He shifted back into drive, and pulled left, moving into the empty half of the road, and getting a few amused or accusatory points from the people who¡¯d been waiting for who knew how long. Anesh ignored them. He didn¡¯t have time for this. He needed to know what they were up against. Three minutes of low speed passing a seemingly endless line of cars and one instance of having to get out of someone¡¯s way, he made it to the turn to the on ramp. ¡®A crash¡¯ didn¡¯t even start to describe it. Every emergency vehicle in town, and a few other city maintenance trucks besides, formed a semi circle barrier around the inferno. The shillouette of the jagged remains of a fuel tanker shown against the night sky; gas fires scattered across the road and nearby vegetation keeping a shouting army of responders busy as they scrambled to keep what was already a disaster from getting worse. The on ramp itself was gone. And Anesh knew, in that moment, that it hadn¡¯t happened because of a fuel truck going up in flames. He stopped his car at the outer edge of the caravan of emergency vehicles, and got out. No one challenged him, no one even noticed that he was walking through their trucks and scoping out their operation. Anesh looked around himself. This couldn¡¯t be a coincidence, he already knew that. So all he had to do now was pay attention, and figure out who here was, like himself, not a part of the civilian mass. Firefighters jogged by, a sheriff barked commands, someone maneuvered a bucket lift to secure a power line, and all around, the flash of dozens of emergency lights, flares, and small fires filled the night. And among it all, Anesh spotted someone leaning on the side of a police car, sipping out of a battered tin cup. ¡°Excuse me!¡± Anesh called out, both hands on his rifle, but the gun still pointed at the ground. ¡°I think we¡¯re looking for each other!¡± His voice shook when he said it; James would be so disappointed in him. But all the same, the man turned toward him, and gave a small frown. He had eyes that glowed green against the firelight, a military cut to his hair, and a goatee that any aspiring super villain would have killed for. But nothing about him screamed of malevolence. Instead, he projected kind of feeling of stubbornness, of a refusal to bend. Anesh didn¡¯t know why he got that impression, but judging by how it got stronger and stronger without reason as he took steps forward, it couldn¡¯t be normal. The man was wearing armor. A flak vest, chainmail, a brigandine, modern body armor, a police vest¡­ Anesh blinked. The man was wearing armor. ¡°Oh dear.¡± He whispered. ¡°You got my daughter¡¯s message. Good.¡± The man said. ¡°I appreciate your presence here tonight.¡± Anesh wanted to ask which one he was. If he was more like the Old Gun, or the Right Person At The Right Time. But fear gripped his throat, and he couldn¡¯t get the words out. Suddenly, a gun and a spell didn¡¯t seem like enough of an edge. ¡°No problem.¡± He said out loud, instead. In his head, though, his mind was spinning. Daughter? That didn¡¯t bode well, no matter what it meant. ¡°You wanted to talk?¡± ¡°I wished to pass on a warning.¡± The man said. ¡°This place is now quarantined. I will not be letting you leave, no matter how much of a special case you believe yourself to be.¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± Anesh snapped out. ¡°No, no. We need *reinforcements*. Do you know what¡¯s going on here?¡± He demanded. ¡°This city-!¡± ¡°This city is forfeit.¡± The man said it with sadness, but he said it all the same, in that precisely confident voice. ¡°It¡¯s people already lost. All that is to be done is to cut out the corruption, and starve the demon of its prey.¡± ¡°Excuse me?!¡± Anesh shouted, stepping back and adjusting his hands on his gun, on the edge of knowing he was going to have to use it, and *soon*. ¡°You¡¯re just going to¡­ rope it off? You could be *helping us*!¡± ¡°I could not.¡± The man shook his head, a blast of tired melancholy flowing out of him. ¡°I cannot set foot within Her territory, and that city is a minefield of pockets that She has claimed.¡± He sighed deeply, taking in a breath of the ashen night air. ¡°My purpose is clear. I will hold the walls. The city will be forgotten. And my daughters will go forth, to destroy, until the demon withers and retreats. And only after it is starved to a bitter death will I allow the survivors escape.¡± Anesh took another halting step backward. This thing was, without a spark of doubt, absolutely insane. It was talking about erasing the lives of five thousand people, like it was *nothing*. And being a little mopey about it wasn¡¯t going to forgive *anything*. ¡°Why did you want to talk to me, then?¡± Anesh demanded. ¡°If I¡¯m just supposed to die along with everyone else?¡± The thing sighed. ¡°The world gets more and more messy, as the years pass.¡± It said. From anyone else, the words might have sounded exhausted, but it just sounded like it was playing at having emotions. ¡°You know, in every generation, there are those like you. Beacons shining in the night, glittering heroes approaching the barrier, prepared to step into something grander and greater than any mortal has ever known. You take bold risks, you build great wonders, you elevate those around you and you shatter your enemies as if they were spun sugar instead of men of conviction. Champions, exalted by the gods, by fate, by truth itself, making your own path toward the divine. And none of you, not a single one of those like you, ever make it past those like me.¡± He looked at Anesh with glowing eyes, appraising the young man in front of him. ¡°Perhaps I simply wished to see what this generation had to offer.¡± And suddenly, Anesh realized it. What James felt, every time someone in power talked to him. ¡°Who the bloody fuck,¡± he demanded with a snarl, ¡°do you think you are?¡± The armored figure cocked an eyebrow in a gesture that was as perfect as it was hollow. ¡°I am the Last Line Of Defense.¡± He said. ¡°And you are on the unfortunately less survivable side. It is a sad thing, but the more stable a civilization becomes, the higher a price it takes to keep it safe from the demons.¡± The really, really sad thing was, this thing didn¡¯t even sound that hostile to him. Anesh got the impression, suddenly, that if he took a shot at it, it wouldn¡¯t even pay attention. It certainly wouldn¡¯t change its opinion, or its course of action. And he knew, *knew*, he didn¡¯t have a hope in hell of killing it. Which left exactly one option left. Anesh slung his gun down to his side. ¡°You¡¯re here to make sure the dungeon doesn¡¯t escape, right?¡± He called across the stretch of road between them. ¡°To contain the spread?¡± ¡°Correct.¡± The Last Line Of Defense replied with a sharp nod. ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh nodded at him. ¡°We¡¯re on it. No need to burn the city down. We know how to take out their outside territory! Will that be good enough for you? Push it back to its own space? Stop it from expanding?¡± The Last Line of Defense paused, actually took the effort to raise *both* eyebrows. ¡°Interesting. Most of you attack at this point.¡± He said. ¡°This is different. You beg for your life?¡± ¡°I¡¯m telling you what we were *already here to do* you worthless wanker.¡± Anesh yelled at him. ¡°I¡¯m just telling you so you won¡¯t *kill thousands of people*!¡± The armored figure gave him a respectful nod. ¡°Perhaps. But this requires something more than simple desperation. Show me your conviction. Camille! Test him.¡± He called out into the night. Anesh was a lot of things. And in the list of things he was, he absolutely wouldn¡¯t put the words ¡®a good fighter¡¯. But before the Last Line of Defense had finished talking, he already knew what was happening, and he¡¯d called on two skill orbs, a hundred hours of skirmish training, and the memories of a half dozen fights in the Office. His knees hit the ground at an angle as he pitched himself forward in a roll that he¡¯d be able to easily come up to a crouch from. As he did so, he called up the powers from the earring he was wearing and burned one of his valuable charges of invisibility, leaving only four left until the two month cooldown expired. As he did *that*, he pulled on the blue that let him manipulate asphalt, and shoved the road into a moving spiral around himself, trying to throw off whatever was coming. He didn¡¯t *know* what was coming, but he wasn¡¯t prepared to give it the first hit. Which was good. Because in the second it took for him to do all of this, *something* flew out of the night, heading straight for him. Anesh had just hit the ground when the strike aimed for his head whistled not even an inch over his scalp. If his brain had time to think about it, he would have realized someone had just tried to kill him with a bladed mace. Instead, he mostly just had time to register that a vaguely humanoid figure had slammed into the fire truck immediately behind him so hard that it caved in the side of the vehicle. The scream of metal and the hissing bang of a pressurized tank being breached filled the night, followed shortly by the screams and shouts of the first responders nearby. Anesh finished his roll, came up to a kneeling position, propped his gun up, and unloaded toward his target. There was a weird interaction with the Status Quo gun bracers burst fire power, and guns that actually had a burst fire mode. They stacked. Mostly, this just gave you a slightly higher rate of fire, but because of how the burst fire power put all the bullets in the same place in a way that defied physics, it was exceptionally good for cutting through things that maybe should have been able to deflect a hit. And Anesh was reasonably sure the figure, yanking a meter long bar of metal out of the side of a destroyed truck, could take a hit. The first stacked burst took it in the shoulder, the second across the torso. Anesh couldn¡¯t get a third off before it spun, kicked off the pavement hard enough to leave a blast crater, and closed in on his position. He stopped firing, and shifted sideways, praying that the invisibility was good enough when he wasn¡¯t giving away his position. And it was, but only barely. The mace came down on the road where he¡¯d been sitting, hitting the tarmac so hard that shards of it were blown backward into the car the Last Line Of Defense was still leaning against, shattering supposedly bulletproof windows and setting off a screaming alarm. The man just sipped out of his tin cup again, making a ¡®go on¡¯ motion. So Anesh obliged, grabbing for Shape Asphalt again to wrap the road around the impact site of his enemy¡¯s weapon. Then, as they tried to yank it up with so much strength he could feel it even through the magic, he compacted the asphalt down into as dense a material as he could, and then piled more on. He kept pulling, and pulling, from the road around them, until he¡¯d left the entire road within thirty feet noticeably reduced, and an ultra-dense spike where the mace was now stuck in the road. Then he shot the wielder of that weapon again, aiming for center mass and landing dozens of shots that jerked his target around, but didn¡¯t seem capable of doing any real damage. He stopped shooting when they dropped the handle of their weapon, and lunged for his firing spot. He considered rolling, but instead just set his shield bracer for ¡®punch¡¯, and raised his gun to prepare to take them in the face when they bounced off. Then they hit, and the flare of light turned the night around them to day for a brief second. The shouts around them escalated, and Anesh was aware of people running toward the site of his battle, but he didn¡¯t have the attention to spare. He just hoped they could get away unharmed. Because he wasn¡¯t sure he could anymore. That single punch, dropped on him from overhead, had just taken thirty charges off his shield. That wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. His adversary looked similarly stunned, and as he blinked the spots out of his eyes, Anesh realized that the person who¡¯d been trying to kill him this whole time was a young woman with a scarred face, and the strange silhouette she left was because of the sharp lines of the platemail and cloak she was wearing. Anesh processed this, and then pulled the trigger, sending three clusters of five bullets, layered on top of each other, into her stunned face. Flesh warped, as if in slow motion. Bone vibrated, before stilling the impact. Skin breached, if only barely. ¡°Hold.¡± The word came from the inhuman man who had now decided he was done with his drink. Anesh froze against his will, and it looked like the girl he¡¯d just shot did the same. She was midway through tensing up her muscles to lash a kick at Anesh¡¯s head, but her stopping wasn¡¯t magical in nature; it was just blind obedience to the Last Line Of Defense. A single drop of blood rolled off her cheek and hit the ground. ¡°Very good.¡± The Last Line Of Defense said, lowering his hand. ¡°Better than the last generation, so far.¡± The words were approving, and empty, all at once. He pretended to think for a minute, while Anesh staggered to his feet, tripping on the cracked asphalt around where he¡¯d been punched into the ground. ¡°Very well.¡± The man said. ¡°Very well what?¡± Anesh rasped out in a dry voice, adrenaline having stolen all the moisture from his mouth. ¡°You have one day.¡± He said. ¡°And after that, the city burns. And no, you may not leave.¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t planning on it.¡± Anesh glared at him, taking a step back and bumping into a firefighter who¡¯d come running at the sound of gunfire. ¡°Alright. Well. See you tomorrow, I guess.¡± ¡°Mm.¡± The Last Line Of Defense made a noncommittal noise. ¡°I find you interesting. My daughter will go with you.¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t a request.¡± ¡°Neither was mine.¡± The two of them stared at each other, Anesh somehow finding the manic strength of will to glare down the god-thing across the street from him. But he didn¡¯t hold it long. ¡°Fine. Whatever.¡± He relented. ¡°I¡¯m on a clock.¡± Anesh turned to leave, ignoring the woman that fell in behind him like a wraith. ¡°Sir? Are you hurt?¡± The firefighter who he¡¯d bumped into asked, addressing him amongst the chaos. ¡°Did any of the shrapnel get you?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have time for this right now. Good luck explaining the truck.¡± He said sympathetically. ¡°The¡­ *what*?!¡± The firefighter turned and strode away, yelling into his radio, while Anesh just moved on, striding out of the line of vehicles and back into the darker part of the night. Nervous people clustered around their cars or the shoulder of the road. Muttered concerns about more explosions, or how that sounded like gunfire. Some of them noticed Anesh. None of them stopped him, as he and the woman who¡¯d just been trying to kill him, silently got into his car. ¡°Fuck.¡± Anesh slammed his forehead into the steering wheel, waiting for his hands to stop shaking. ¡°Okay. Okay. I¡¯ve got this.¡± He sat back up, and glanced at his unwanted passenger. ¡°If you try to kill me again, I¡¯m drowning you in the road.¡± He said. ¡°If I try to kill you for the first time, you won¡¯t have the chance.¡± Her voice was rough, and Anesh got the feeling her words were more bravado than real indication of ability. ¡°Sure.¡± He said. ¡°Well, thanks for holding back I suppose.¡± Anesh put the pedal down, and pulled a tight U-turn, before accelerating down the empty lane of the road. Back toward the city in chaos. Back to find James, find Alanna, stop the dungeon, and escape certain doom. He was, he decided, absolutely, positively, not ready for this. Chapter 158 ¡°I dreamt like a war machine // and woke like a child.¡± -Lo Kwa Mei-en, Arial- _____ The girl who¡¯d been with Alanna was named Katie. Ragged blonde hair, a razor thin nose, and a layer of dirt that had given way to reveal a series of scrapes and scratches after she¡¯d taken a half hour in the shower. She was, after getting over being timid, honestly kind of a rude person. Older than James had initially assessed, too. She was one of three people sitting around a milk crate table with James, who had finally hauled himself out of bed and was more or less upright. The other two were a pair of brothers, *probably* twins, by the names of Nick and Henry, who couldn¡¯t have been older than twelve and had spent a lot of time hiding around corners trying to peek at James like he was some kind of mythical creature. The table, made out of milk crates and a flattened cardboard box, was the only piece of furniture in the room aside from a Joan Jett poster on the wall next to the window that overlooked the backyard, which made for a confusing and barren aesthetic. They were playing cards. ¡°Go fish.¡± Katie told James with an almost petty grin. He didn¡¯t do more than raise an eyebrow at the pile of cards she was holding, but didn¡¯t *say* she was cheating. Instead, he made a mistake, opened his mouth and said, ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the game we¡¯re playing.¡± ¡°Incorrect rules. Draw a card.¡± She told him with a wider, snarkier grin. James looked down at his own hand, well out of range for winning, and frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t think I *like* this game.¡± He muttered. ¡°Complaining. Take a card.¡± ¡°Dammit.¡± The entire affair was not helped by the fact that the only deck of cards they had was two incomplete sets of playing cards shuffled together. Or by the way that new rules got added in secret every game, and James was *never* in on the secret. ¡°So, how did you all fall in with Alanna, anyway?¡± He asked, trying to make conversation while he puzzled out why the twin to his left had just thrown out three cards from his hand in complete silence. If the table was quiet before, it was silent now. This lasted another couple of plays, before the twin James was *pretty* sure was Nick spoke up. ¡°Our parents left a couple weeks ago.¡± He practically whispered. ¡°Then the sheriff told us we had to get out of the house. And¡­ and¡­ Alanna found us, trying to get to our grandma.¡± ¡°Sh- ah.¡± James stopped himself swearing. ¡°Did your parents¡­ what happened to them?¡± ¡°They just left.¡± The other brother said, voice on the edge of breaking suddenly. ¡°Took everything, but not us, and drove off.¡± James winced. Then he pursed his lips, and tried to give as good news as he could. ¡°If it helps, it probably wasn¡¯t their fault. The thing that¡¯s eating this town is messing with people¡¯s heads. If you didn¡¯t leave with them, it might be that you¡¯re immune to it. Which¡­ I mean, right now, that¡¯s not good, yeah. But we¡¯ll find your parents, get you back where you wanna be.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want them.¡± One of the brothers scowled bitterly, hands partially crumpling the cards he was holding. ¡°They¡¯re victims too.¡± James said softly. But the kid was, at the end of the day, a kid. And it was hard to understand how something could happen and not be someone¡¯s fault when you were young. James still remembered that, pretty vividly. So instead he turned to Katie. ¡°How bout you?¡± ¡°Boyfriend got in a car crash.¡± She shrugged. ¡°We had a lot he was gonna build a house on. Some asshole kept trying to get me to sell it, since Kent was dead. I kept saying no. Then a couple nights ago, something tried to eat my car. And some nutjob came out of nowhere and saved my life. So I¡¯m here. Got nowhere else to go, right? Not if there¡¯s monsters all over the place and the world¡¯s ending.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not the world, to be clear.¡± James told her. ¡°Just this city.¡± He leaned to the side, testing his leg to see if it hurt less yet, hoping his endurance was good enough to keep him going. It didn¡¯t, wasn¡¯t. ¡°I need to learn more crab facts.¡± He murmured to himself. ¡°So, you¡¯re all just, what, holed up here until everything blows over?¡± James asked them. ¡°I guess.¡± Katie said with a shrug, dropping half her hand of cards quietly to the floor in a motion she probably thought James didn¡¯t catch. ¡°Sometimes other people come through. Alanna goes out for food or other stuff sometimes, we¡¯ve got water and lights. I think this is one of the houses that got bought, and¡¯s just sitting around, you know?¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware of the cartoon villainy going on around here, yes.¡± James shook his head with a glare. ¡°Do you know roughly where we are? Like, could you give me directions back to the city center area?¡± He asked them. ¡°Oh, also, take a card for cheating.¡± He pointed at the girl, card game not forgotten while all this was going on. ¡°Why?¡± One of the kids asked him angrily. ¡°You gonna leave too?¡± ¡°Uh, yes.¡± James nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve got people counting on me, and at least one or two more ill-advised heroics left to do today.¡± The differences between the twins suddenly turned from minor quirks into a huge gulf, as one of them got an excited look on his face and gazed at James like some kind of superhero, and the other one just made a rude noise and loudly proclaimed that was, in his words, ¡°Gay.¡± ¡°First off,¡± James realized suddenly that he¡¯d been through too much in his life to be offended by some shitty child anymore, ¡°it¡¯s not gay until I link back up with my boyfriend and we start making out. Those are the rules. Second of all, your life getting upended doesn¡¯t give you license to be an asshole.¡± He offhandedly turned back to the older member of the group, permanently ignoring the increasing volume of protests from the kid. ¡°So? Directions?¡± ¡°Alanna said not to let you leave.¡± Katie told him. ¡°Also take a card for discussing the rules.¡± ¡°I¡­ what?!¡± James reeled back. ¡°Okay, no. I¡¯m conceding this game, if only to simplify this conversation. Seriously, Alanna doesn¡¯t get to give me orders, whether she remembers me or not. I¡¯m fine, I can walk, and I¡¯m not good at sitting around while everyone else is out there being potentially threatened by whoever tried to kill me.¡± ¡°Alanna told us to not let you leave.¡± Katie repeated, folding her arms with all the conviction of a student who had been left in charge by the teacher for five minutes. James pursed his lips and shook his head at her. ¡°Sure.¡± He said with a sigh. ¡°Alright, well, I¡¯m gonna go see if my socks are dry yet.¡± He grinned slightly at the suspicious looks of the people sitting around the makeshift furnishing. ¡°I won¡¯t leave yet, don¡¯t worry. Knowing my luck, I¡¯d probably pass everyone one street over, anyway.¡± He sighed and stretched, eliciting a satisfying pop from his back as he turned to head to the kitchen. The kitchen, because this place had been *aggressively* stripped of furnishings, and the only place he had to dry his socks was the oven. A process that was both anxiety inducing, and also very inefficient. But it was still better than having one sock encrusted with his own blood. And because he¡¯d left the closed off space of the extra bedroom that they¡¯d been playing cards in, James had an incidentally great view of the front door. Which was convenient, because as he braced himself against the wall to stand on one foot and pull on his warm-and-still-a-little-damp socks, he got a clear look at the door¡¯s deadbolt turning. The deadbolt to a house that they were hiding out in. A house none of them had keys for. Where Alanna had climbed off the back porch to get in and out. James could, it turned out, run really fucking well on a leg that had been speared through by a piece of shrapnel. Just so long as he had something to worry about that wasn¡¯t the spike of pain. He was already through the door to the bedroom the others were playing cards in by the time the door had swung open in the front hallway, silently shutting the bedroom door and clicking the flimsy internal lock behind himself. His shoes were still in the other room, next to the bed, along with his coat. But there was no time for that now. ¡°Where¡¯s my gun?¡± He hissed in a silent whisper, striding across the room and sliding open the window as softly as he could, before gripping the thin metal edges of the screen and popping it out of place. ¡°What¡¯s¡­¡± Katie started to say in a normal tone, before a sharp hiss and a worried look from James silenced her. The sound of the front door slamming shut bringing wide eyed looks to everyone in the room. ¡°What gun?!¡± She whispered. ¡°Did Alanna bring *anything* from my car?¡± He whispered, ignoring the heavy boots making echoing thuds across the hardwood floor outside. Multiple footfalls, his brain told him. Three people, possibly four. ¡°Like, any long black plastic cases, perhaps?¡± ¡°No!¡± Katie was panicking now. ¡°Who¡¯s-¡° James raised a hand and she went silent, just as the footfalls came to a stop outside the door, and the handle rattled. He¡¯d already motioned the two kids up, and they had displayed a healthy level of silence as they approached the window he¡¯d thrown open. James was boosting one of them up, wincing at the scraping noise they were making, when someone tried to kick the door in. The sudden slam of a boot on wood, cracking the aging frame and splintering part of the door, drew a scream out of Katie, and a startled jolt from the twin going out the window. The kid twisted, and pitched forward, and James had to hope that the soft dirt would arrest his fall enough that he didn¡¯t get hurt. Because he was already trying to get the other brother up, cupping his hands and lifting the kid up to let him climb out smoothly. ¡°We know you¡¯re in there!¡± A man¡¯s voice came from outside. It was slightly muffled, and not just from the door; James assumed the guy was wearing a mask, and not just for pandemic reasons. ¡°Open the door!¡± ¡°Hard pass!¡± James called back, trying to motion Katie over. But the girl had pressed herself into the corner, and was frozen in the kind of fear he recognized as being paralyzing if you weren¡¯t prepared for a situation. ¡°Fuck off!¡± He tried yelling, but his words were drowned out by another heavy kick to the door, wood cracking in protest as the flimsy handle bowed inward from the force. ¡°Give us the kid, and you can leave!¡± The voice shouted again. And suddenly, James recognized it. He¡¯d spoken to this man, not even four hours ago. Tried to drag information about the property scam going on out of him. Because this guy was one of the realtors. ¡°Just hand over the little girl!¡± That statement stuck in James¡¯ mind. He needed, he knew, more time to break that down. But just on the surface of it, his immediate reaction was that there was no way they were talking about Katie. As he¡¯d gotten older, and breached into his thirties, he¡¯d noticed that he mostly referred to anyone under the age of twenty five as ¡®a kid¡¯. But at no point had he considered calling a twenty something woman a ¡®little girl¡¯. Which meant either these guys were somehow, by impossible coincidence, at the one house they were hiding out in, *or*, they were here for something else. ¡°I¡¯m so regretting not keeping the power that let me melt wood.¡± James grumbled, grabbing Katie and hoisting her up to the window, giving silent thanks to JP¡¯s procurement of the exercise potions that had allowed him to put on the muscle needed to make this work without killing himself. ¡°Go!¡± He whispered. ¡°Take the kids, cut left and then run. I¡¯ll catch up!¡± James didn¡¯t actually intend to catch up. He intended to escape, yes. But his main plan was stalling, and diverting, leading these assholes on a wild goose chase. Katie might have recognized that. But as James gave her a push out the window to the tune of another hard kick to the door, she didn¡¯t have any complaints about it. And then James was alone in the room, with no one to help him but the moral support of Joan Jett staring down from the wall over his shoulder. There was another kick at the door. They were coming in a steady rhythm now. No more demands, just repeated slams and breaking wood. ¡°Hey!¡± James yelled, and the kicking stopped. ¡°Was Invincible by Joan Jett?¡± He called through the broken wood. There was a pause, and low voices. A woman¡¯s voice yelled back, ¡°That was Pat Benetar, you moron!¡± Followed by someone telling her to shut up. The door to the bedroom, at this point, had bowed in around the handle, and there was light pouring through the gap. The man¡¯s voice that James recognized boomed into the room, from right at where the hole was. He saw an eye peeking into the room too, before the light was blocked off by the man¡¯s bulk. ¡°Look, buddy, just hand over the kid. You¡¯re just here for the money, you don¡¯t wanna risk your-¡° James didn¡¯t even bother rolling his eyes. He just braced his injured leg as best he could, pivoted, and kicked the least splintered part of the broken area of the door. He didn¡¯t hit it very hard, but there was a yelp of panic and the noise of someone landing on their ass, followed by more yelling. Someone started shouldering the door again, and the frame cracked, about to give way. James wasted no more time, he turned and used a milk crate as a step to haul himself up into the window frame. Then he paused, waited for a second for the door to burst open behind him, and turned just enough to see who was coming in and say something snarky. In his head, he had planned to make a comment about the song Cherry Bomb, maybe startle them a bit, then drop out the window. The three people who stormed in were angry, obviously untrained, and stupid. And the one in the back was already shooting with the pistol in his hand. So in addition to deafening his supposed teammates, the dude also had his field of fire blocked off, and the first two bullets just smacked into the wall to James¡¯ side. The next one was a bit better, and shattered the glass pane over his head, and by that point, James had decided to not stick around to gloat, pitching himself out the window and rolling across the barkdust of the yard. Instantly he realized the scope of his mistake, as barkdust stuck in his hair, clothes, and especially *socks* with an evil rough feeling. But there was no time for that. James turned, and bolted off into the night, hoping darkness would give him a little cover, but not so much that they wouldn¡¯t come after him. He got four blocks, weaving back to street side and out of the untended backyards just in case, before an engine rumbled to life in the empty neighborhood behind him. ¡°Shit.¡± James gasped out, putting on all the extra speed he could. He could, at least, take a couple corners before the caught up to him. It turned out, while endurance was really bad at healing major wounds, even with his purple orbs helping out, it was *exceptional* at letting him find that next breath he needed, helping him make that next pounding footfall as he ran. And James had a *lot* of experience running. He had gone two more streets down, up a hill that had left him out of breath but hadn¡¯t stopped him, crossed a small park, and had just dove over a low brick retaining wall into a grocery store parking lot, when he decided to take a break. Endurance had long since kicked in, keeping his muscles from aching, keeping his lungs from burning, but as far as he could tell, it wasn¡¯t helping him recover any faster when it wasn¡¯t amplifying his purples. Maybe that was just because James felt pushed pretty far past what he thought was his limit. But then, he had been in a car crash less than twelve hours ago, and the aches and pains from that had only gotten worse, even if they weren¡¯t *stopping* him. So James leaned against the wall, and took deep, heaving breaths, sitting in the shadow of the parking lot lights, hoping none of the few scattered cars in the parking lot at this late hour had people in them. And then a yellow hummer whipped into the parking lot, the newest car James had seen in this town so far screeching to a stop in the middle of the orange lit asphalt desert. The doors flung open, and three familiar masked individuals hopped out, scanning the area. One of them looking down at a glowing orange circle hovering over their outstretched hand. ¡°Oh fuck me.¡± James groaned to himself. They had found him *way* too quick. He couldn¡¯t actually run as fast as a car, but he¡¯d been sitting here less than a minute, and he¡¯d crossed so many potential side streets and hiding places. It was statistically unlikely they¡¯d just stumbled on where he¡¯d crouched for a rest. ¡°They¡¯re using Maps.¡± James realized with a grunt of exasperation. Of course they were using Maps, he thought to himself, they were *allied with the dungeon*. Why the fuck wouldn¡¯t they have a way to track him? It also explained earlier, his brain shakily realized as the trio swept the front of the store, but didn¡¯t go in. They might know he was ¡®in the parking lot¡¯, but not where. One of them broke off to circle around behind the loading dock, while James stayed unmoving, hoping he¡¯d have a few more seconds of rest. Earlier, when the lead man had yelled at him to give up the girl, made a lot more sense now; they were after *Ava*. And they obviously couldn¡¯t find her, because Hidden was the perfect counter to being found. So, they just went to the next closest person, and ended up on James. Fuck, they probably ended up on Anesh and Jeanne, too. James had to get back even more, now. This could be messy. But then, he had an idea. A really, really, mean idea, that left him with a grin a mile wide. This little wall area and the desperate foliage that was holding on to life here had a bunch of palm sized rocks as ground cover around it. James grabbed one, rose up as much as he thought he could without being spotted, and flung the rock as hard as he could against the metal dumpster off on the side of the building. The clang echoed through the early night. From behind the building, James heard one loud shout of alarm, while the two standing by the front also turned toward the noise, and started rushing toward it. They both had guns out now, and weren¡¯t hiding anything. No illusions as to what they intended if they actually caught James. And no matter how awesome he thought he was, or how stupid they were acting, he had no intention of trying to take on three armed goons with just his fists, a few martial arts tricks, and two charges left of asphalt shaping. So he waited for them to hustle by, the bigger man panting and wheezing as he rounded the corner after his smaller counterpart. And the instant they were by the shadowed patch James was crouched in, he stood, and bolted. Straight for their car. They¡¯d even left the engine running for him. Apparently, everything James needed to know about evading pursuit, he¡¯d learned from stealth games. His aching feet spiked with pain every time his foot slapped down on the asphalt, but the upside of only wearing socks was that his steps were muffled, and despite the splinters digging in between his toes, he was most of the way to the car before a cry of anger rose up behind him. James almost, *almost*, wasted energy laughing when he heard the guy yell ¡°Don¡¯t shoot my new car!¡± A bullet slapped the asphalt near him; someone wasn¡¯t listening. Another one hit the runner on the hummer; they were aiming for his legs. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. And then they were too late. James was in the driver¡¯s seat, not bothering to close the two open doors on the passenger side. He slammed his own door behind him, just in time to catch a pair of shots, and then threw the car in drive and floored it. He whipped a dizzying U-turn around a parked truck, took out someone¡¯s wing mirror, tried to keep his brain from screaming as the sudden acceleration sparked pain across the inside of his eyes, and then swerved out onto the road. He didn¡¯t relax. They¡¯d catch up, eventually. But right now, he had two big advantages. Their car, and a destination in mind that would have backup. He wove his way toward a main road he recognized, and oriented himself toward El¡¯s place, exhaustion held off by little more than willpower and fear. And also a little bit of glib amusement, that he actually got away with this. _____ Alanna pulled up outside the suburban home and stopped her car with a weary sigh. She needed to get gas again, and was entirely out of cash at this point. She also needed to grapple with the fact that someone had recognized her, and it had¡­ changed nothing. She didn¡¯t feel any different. There was still that itch in her head, like there were so many things she should be thinking of. And yeah, that feeling that had dulled over the last few months had come back in force when James had been talking to her. But nothing had broken through, nothing had suddenly revealed itself to her. She was just¡­ well, who she¡¯d been being. And that wasn¡¯t bad, exactly. But she still felt forgotten, as much as she had herself forgot. And she couldn¡¯t put her finger on why. She was stalling, she knew. Running thoughts in loops while she avoided knocking on the door. Because someone else who knew her was supposed to be in there. And the last thing she wanted was more of that *dread*. That feeling in her gut that she wasn¡¯t just affected by a condition, but fundamentally broken in some way that made her permanently disconnected from her old life. Of course, she could only reasonably stall for so long. There were, after all, murderers and monsters out and about tonight. Alanna found herself in short order standing on a creaking wooden porch, rapping her knuckles as politely on the worn paint of the door. And then, there was silence from inside. Mostly silence, anyway. She could hear the distant scraping of a chair on the floor, and the soft footsteps of someone intentionally sneaking. She knocked again, and heard a voice from the other side of the door in response. ¡°What do you want?¡± It sounded like a woman only a little older than Alanna herself. She stepped back, putting herself in view of the tall windows to either side of the door, and spoke. ¡°Sorry, I hope I have the right house here. James sent me to check in with Anesh.¡± The door swung open, revealing a woman who clearly had some qualms keeping the handgun she was holding pointed in Alanna¡¯s direction, but did it anyway. Behind her, down a short hall that led to a little kitchen and dining room, a small girl¡¯s face peeked out from behind a corner. ¡°James is alive?¡± Jeanne asked. ¡°Last time I saw him, yeah.¡± Alanna said, shoulders untenseing. She had gotten the right house, then. ¡°Are you Anesh?¡± Her eyebrows furrowed as she asked. ¡°You don¡¯t look¡­ um¡­¡± She fumbled for the right adjective. ¡°No, he¡¯s not¡­ he went out to¡­meet someone.¡± Jeanne sagged a bit, gun lowering. ¡°He isn¡¯t back yet.¡± Alanna was going to ask if it was okay if she waited outside when El¡¯s mother rounded the corner. ¡°Oh for goodness sake,¡± the older woman grumbled, hands on her hips, ¡°if she¡¯s not here to kill us, invite the poor girl in. She looks like she¡¯s been through a *time*!¡± Jeanne shot Alanna a sheepish smile, which she returned, motioning the younger woman into the house. Alanna nodded politely and stepped in, kicking off her shoes into the pile by the door. In short order, she was led back to a kitchen table where a pot of cheap coffee was wafting a grim and inviting scent through the room. The kid watched her from over the back of a couch, and Alanna glimpsed the flicker of something ghostly around the young girl¡¯s head. ¡°Um¡­¡± She didn¡¯t know how to say this. ¡°Is that¡­?¡± Alanna shot a nod at the young girl. ¡°Ava. My daughter.¡± Jeanne said, sitting down stiffly as El¡¯s mom went to get them another mug. ¡°I¡¯m Jeanne, by the way. You must be Alanna.¡± ¡°Do you know your kid¡¯s haunted?¡± Alanna asked, before her brain caught up. ¡°And do we know each other?¡± She asked. Jeanne sighed. ¡°I know. They say it¡¯s okay. And she won¡¯t¡­ give it up, anyway. And we¡¯ve never met. The guys just talked about you a few times. And Anesh said that his ghost had spotted you at the crash site.¡± ¡°Oh, they¡¯re not ghosts!¡± El¡¯s mom settled into her own chair. ¡°They¡¯re *maps*. Though with how my own rebellious daughter described things, I¡¯ve decided they need a better name. They can¡¯t have two strange miracles called maps, that¡¯s just rude.¡± She turned to Alanna. ¡°Cream and sugar?¡± She asked with a friendly smile, taking an answer and passing over the coffee before continuing. ¡°This is all a lot for an old lady like me to take in, you know. But between the dog walking, and this, I don¡¯t even need to bother with TV to entertain myself these days! Much better than the status quo, eh?¡± Alanna froze, hand gripping her cup so hard she briefly worried it would crack. The itch in her head intensified, something in the shroud around her memories broke away. ¡°The what?¡± She whispered, a vision of blood and concrete filling her mind. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s an old lady term for normal.¡± Jeanne snorted. ¡°You¡¯re hardly old, Majorie.¡± She said into her coffee. ¡°And I¡¯m going to be petty and say I¡¯m jealous that you¡¯re adapting to this better than I am. It¡¯s *terrifying*.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alanna whispered. ¡°I seem to remember that.¡± The other two women glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. ¡°Honey, are you¡­?¡± The older of the two started to say, before a thin voice cut through the air. ¡°Fog.¡± Ava said, drawing three sets of eyes to the couch she was still lurking behind. ¡°She says it¡¯s like really heavy fog.¡± ¡°My memory?¡± Alanna asked tiredly. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll move when¡­ when there¡¯s wind. But it¡¯s been sitting too long. Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ll remember.¡± Ava slid back down behind the couch, leaving just the top of her head visible, waiting until attention wasn¡¯t on her before she dared to peek again. The words she was passing on from Hidden had stung the infomorph, but not as much as revealing her would have, and maybe not as much as it would have a week ago anyway. ¡°You¡¯re got amnesia?¡± Jeanne asked. ¡°Like, the real version, or the movie version?¡± ¡°Movie version.¡± Alanna confirmed with a nod. ¡°I¡¯m glad someone else recognizes that, honestly.¡± She allowed a soft smile as she stared down at her cup. ¡°I tried talking to a couple doctors, one therapist, they thought I was making it all up.¡± ¡°Mm. Magic, then!¡± El¡¯s mom decided. She really had adapted with startling grace to the new reality of her world. ¡°Well, good news. My daughter and her friends have plenty of that to go around. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be just fine.¡± She reached over to pat Alanna¡¯s hand. Alanna was going to say something pessimistic and possibly rude, but was interrupted by a thud from the door. Everyone froze, then Alanna moved before the others could, snatching Jeanne¡¯s gun off the table and taking up a crouched firing position at the end of the hallway. The door handle rattled, and a young man¡¯s voice, tinged with an English accent, came through the thin glass of the windows. ¡°Ahem. Forgot it would be locked. My mistake.¡± And then another voice. Female, but deeper. Angrier. ¡°Then I shall-¡° ¡°No!¡± The first voice echoed. ¡°Jeanne! Door please!¡± Mixed with a frantic knock. ¡°It¡¯s Anesh.¡± Jeanne sighed in relief, darting past Alanna, who rose to her feet and calmly added the gun to her belt. Jeanne ran to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open to reveal a young man with short black hair and olive skin, along with a stern faced girl in¡­ Alanna did a double take. Plate armor? That was new. The girl was also posed like she had planned to punch the door down, and Alanna got the terrifying impression that it would have worked without her even trying too hard. Anesh also did a double take, seeing Alanna standing there in the hall. And then, without hesitation, he launched himself forward. Alanna barely had time to react before he¡¯d barreled into her, wrapping his arms around her in a crushing hug. ¡°I knew it!¡± He half laughed, half cried. ¡°I knew you were okay. And you¡¯re here! How? Why?! Is there¡­¡± He trailed off, seeing the confused and awkward look on Alanna¡¯s face as she looked off to the side, not making eye contact with him or returning the hug. ¡°What¡­¡± ¡°Movie amnesia.¡± Jeanne said, closing the door and walking past them. ¡°Also who¡¯s your new friend?¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Anesh released Alanna and stepped back sheepishly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, this is probably really uncomfortable then. Apologies. And this is¡­ um¡­ okay, this is gonna require several explanations. This is Camille, I¡¯ve been calling her Cam to annoy her, and¡­ well...¡± He gave a rapid recap of the night¡¯s events from his perspective. The town was cut off, both physically and magically. The Last Line Of Defense apparently both existed, and was kind of a jackass. And they had a rapidly diminishing deadline before people like the girl who had followed him in swept through the city, destroying and killing, until whatever anchored the dungeon was gone. ¡°So why¡¯s this one following you?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Is this some kind of weird honor thing, or is Cammy just an idiot?¡± ¡°My name is Camille the Violet.¡± The girl spoke for the first time in her rough voice. ¡°And you will-¡° ¡°Oh man, you said that title like it was a *rank*, not a name.¡± Alanna bitterly shook her head. ¡°That thing has its hooks deep in you, huh? Damn, that¡¯s just sad.¡± The armored girl scowled with barely contained fury, fist clenching on empty air with the force of a bulldozer. But before she could respond or retaliate, El¡¯s mom came through the room. ¡°Excuse me girls, argue later. You have someone you need to talk to.¡± She patted Alanna on the arm. ¡°Come with me dear, we¡¯ll get you some coffee, and some iodine for that cut you¡¯ve got.¡± And with the force of experienced mom conviction, she ushered an unprotesting Camille off to the side bathroom to get the wound Anesh had left on her face looked at. ¡°Please don¡¯t antagonize the god-thing¡¯s kid.¡± Anesh sighed at Alanna. ¡°Why does that sentence sound¡­ right?¡± Alanna asked softly. Anesh gave her an apologetic look. ¡°I want you to think about that sentence, and then realize just how weird our lives both were, and are.¡± He said. ¡°You talked to James, right? Did you not get any of this from him?¡± ¡°Just a persistent sense that all this weird shit is a little too common, and the feeling that he uses humor to hide how afraid he is.¡± Alanna summed it up, glossing over all the other emotions she could read on people as easily as breathing. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Anesh gave a small nod. ¡°That¡¯s almost exactly what you said when we started dating.¡± He told her. ¡°Also, if that makes you uncomfortable, I can just not bring it up?¡± Alanna blinked at his question. She must have shown some discomfort on her face. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ I don¡¯t know. I feel like I don¡¯t know you, but I do. And I can tell how obviously both of you care. So I¡¯m not mad or anything. I just don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to be doing here, you know?¡± Anesh nodded. The two of them stood there like that for several breaths, neither sure what to say. Eventually, unsure of how to continue, he asked a question that had been fermenting in his brain since he saw her from the door. ¡°Out of curiosity,¡± Anesh said, ¡°can you take perception from me?¡± ¡°What?¡± Alanna asked, puzzled. But as soon as the words settled into her ears, she felt it. There was a bridge of some kind between them, a channel over which she could push something indescribable. Push, or, she realized, pull. Alanna, almost without thinking of it, drew something from Anesh into herself. He blinked rapidly as his own ability to notice details was cut down, but for Alanna, it was like the whole world opened up. Suddenly she saw, understood, and internalized a dozen small things all at once. The pattern in the wool blanket over the back of the couch, the brand of cheap coffee they were drinking, the burst fire pattern of dents on Camille¡¯s armor, the smell of Anesh¡¯s shampoo mixed with cordite, the living stapler watching her silently from on top of a shelf. And more than that, the emotions she could pull from microexpressions and body language and tone of voice were suddenly amplified to an impossible degree. She could feel, deep in her heart, the mom-worry that the older woman in the kitchen felt for Camille. She experienced, in real time, the awe and fear of a small girl dumped into a world she didn¡¯t understand but was still part of. She knew in her *bones* that the stapler was, while unhappy about it, still willing to die protecting anyone in this house. Anesh gently pulled back his viewpoint, and the world dimmed back to normal. But that itch in the back of her head had cracked again. So many small sensations, adding up to the days and weeks she¡¯d lived in her before times, could not be so easily ignored. The fog shifted, light shone through, for just a second. Alanna titled her gaze up to the stapler on the shelf. ¡°Rufus.¡± She said quietly. ¡°Your name is Rufus. Somehow.¡± Blinking away tears he didn¡¯t bother to hide, Anesh smiled at her. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°That¡¯s good to know.¡± ¡°Can we-¡± Alanna started to ask him. What she was planning to ask, she wasn¡¯t sure. To do that again, to go talk to the others, to just take some time to *process*. It had been a long day, a long year, and she wasn¡¯t sure what she was doing, and maybe what she needed was to sit on the couch and let someone else worry about it for a change. Maybe that¡¯s what she could ask Anesh; to take care of things while she decompressed. She knew, because she remembered a small moment of it, that he would say yes. But whatever she was going to ask was interrupted by a heavy pounding on the front door. ¡°We know you¡¯re in there!¡± A man¡¯s voice bellowed into the house. ¡°Give us the girl!¡± Anesh, who had jumped when the pounding had started, now shared a glance with Alanna. She looked back at him, and raised her eyebrows. Wordlessly, he unslung his rifle and shifted into a firing position, while Alanna moved, keeping herself out of view of the windows, to crouch in ambush behind the door. From the kitchen, Jeanne panicking and Ava crying out in fear reached their ears. And then, another voice, right behind them. ¡°What is this?¡± Camille said, grim displeasure in her voice. Before Anesh could answer, the man pounded on the door again. ¡°Hey! Fuckers! Hand over the kid, and you get to live!¡± ¡°I think,¡± Anesh said, ¡°we¡¯ve found whoever was trying to kidnap Ava this last week.¡± ¡°...Of course.¡± Camille said, bitterly. ¡°And what do you plan to do?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ not let them?¡± Alanna looked back over her shoulder like the armored girl was insane. ¡°What the hell do you think we¡¯re going to do?¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Camille hummed. And then, Alanna was shocked to get a vibe of awkward curiosity off of her. ¡°Do you mind if I¡­¡± She waved with one hand toward the door, where someone was now rattling the lock, and someone else was peering in through the side window. And while asking, she pointedly didn¡¯t make eye contact with them. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Anesh glanced at Alanna. ¡°Sure?¡± He said, not really capable of denying the woman anything anyway. ¡°Oh! Leave them alive! We need answers!¡± ¡°Very well.¡± Camille said. She closed her eyes, and tilted her head. ¡°Cover the rear. Two are circling around. Neither are armed.¡± Alanna slipped around to the kitchen, and Anesh made to follow. But before he did so, he had to know. Turning to speak over the yelling from outside and the sound of someone hammering against cracking glass, he asked ¡°Why are you helping?¡± ¡°I have...¡± Camille said, and he thought she sounded almost wistful, before she hardened her face, ¡°It is not my place to play at being a hero.¡± She idly reached over and picked up a magazine sitting on a side table with a stack of junk mail, rolling it into a thick tube. ¡°I think I would like to try, at least this once. Perhaps it will be amusing.¡± Someone reached through the broken window to try to unlock the door, and Camille lanced forward like a fencer. The rolled up magazine pinning their arm to the door frame with a wet splintering crack of a noise that came from *bone* and not the undamaged wood. ¡°Go aid your companion.¡± She ordered Anesh over the shriek of pain from outside. ¡°I will clean up here.¡± And she didn¡¯t have to tell him twice. _____ El had a weird feeling as she drove back to her house. Well, her *mom¡¯s* house, as she had been reminded recently. But still. It was a feeling of something going on. Like that sensation you got when there were just a few too many sirens a couple streets distant, or in a more positive way, when it was a holiday you¡¯d forgotten and the streets were empty of all the people spending time with family. Right now, it was a mix of those two. There weren¡¯t any other cars out, really. The occasional single vehicle passing by in the oncoming lane, and a couple of times an intersection she had to stop at while a lone car made a left turn. But that was it. There weren¡¯t any pedestrians either, but that was less uncommon for this hour of night anyway. This wasn¡¯t a college town, wasn¡¯t a place that had anything to attract young people to move to it. It was a city that was a little too far off the big route, rolling along mostly out of momentum and a couple big factories. Dying, slowly, as everyone who wanted something better left. Basically, it wasn¡¯t the kind of place where there was much going on to get people out of their houses late at night. El¡¯s feeling of unease solidified when she tried to go through a Taco Bell drive through on her way home, and found the primary employer of persons under the age of twenty in this city was closed. Lights off, doors locked, nothing going on inside. Her feeling got worse when she passed by what looked like a crash site - two cars that had clearly impacted each other - but saw no sign of flashing lights or human reaction. In a way, the creeping sense of dread was reassuring. Because El had been worried about *nothing* for weeks, and now, being worried about *something* sounded pretty nice. In another way, it was terrifying, because it was a sudden shift from a feeling that something was off, to evidence that something was actively going wrong, *right now*. And there wasn¡¯t a damn thing she could do about it. What was she *supposed* to do? Kill the dungeon? She couldn¡¯t even *fight* the dungeon! If James and Anesh, the literal professionals, hadn¡¯t figured it out, what was El supposed to do about it? She didn¡¯t know why people were vanishing, why it was so quiet, or why apparently the police and fire departments had just decided to take the night off. El had two tools to deal with this kind of thing: one was her car, and the answer was just running away, and the other was her spell that traced a path forward, which was awesome, but she didn¡¯t have the Velocity for and it didn¡¯t help anyone else anyway. Running away didn¡¯t help anyone else either. So she¡¯d been poking around, talking to some old friends and acquaintances and enemies. Trying to find any hint, however thin, that she could pass on to the actual heroes. And she¡¯d turned up pretty much nothing. And now, full of nervous fear, she drove home and tried to think of how to convince her mom to flee the state with her. Then she turned the corner down the street her mom lived on, and the panic intensified to a sharp peak. There were cars around her childhood home. Several of them parked in a way that walled off the street and clearly showed that they weren¡¯t here for a polite visit. Even as El approached, gut clenching as she found she had no other plan than to run in, another vehicle barrelled down the road from the other direction, coming to a jerking halt in front of her home just as El pulled up more smoothly on the other side by the sidewalk. Her relief when James jumped out of the massive bright yellow truck thing was like water in the desert. Though the pained stumble he gave, and the lack of any resources beyond a torn shirt and a lack of shoes, reignited a new fear in her chest. El got out of her own car, pulling the shotgun she kept under the passenger seat with her. She didn¡¯t have a secondary for James, but she could at least back him up. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± She called to him. ¡°Someone tried to kill me. Guess they got here first.¡± His voice was dire, and betrayed just as much fear as she was feeling. ¡°I¡¯ll go first. Watch my back.¡± He said it simply, like he *trusted* her, and El felt a burst of angry indignation that was quickly overwhelmed by a tight feeling in her chest that she didn¡¯t really know how to place. James didn¡¯t wait for her to deal with her emotions, he just stalked low across the lawn, only taking a second to try to brush something off one of his socks on the dry grass. El followed, gun up but pointed off to the side as the two of them moved on the door. One of the windows that she¡¯d pressed her nose into as a kid was broken. To the side, the rhododendron her mom insisted on trying to keep alive had been crushed into the ground. The door that she¡¯d gone through thousands of times lay open, inviting them into a house that still had the lights on. James had described to her once the aura of fear that the attic dungeon they¡¯d found could put off. How it left someone feeling like the last thing in the world that they wanted to do was walk up those steps. Right now, El didn¡¯t need a dungeon to get that effect. They swept into the house together, James checking corners and El coming in behind him ready to kill anyone that had hurt the people who were supposed to be safe here. And then, a voice from the kitchen froze both of them, before James nodded and crept forward. Both of them cleared the hallway at the same time. James tensed up mid step, El froze her finger on the trigger. And then, taking in the scene in front of them, they both let the anxiety bleed out of their hands and shoulders. ¡°Oh hey, you¡¯re back.¡± Anesh said, just finishing up a heavy double knot on the rope he was tying around an unfamiliar person¡¯s hands. ¡°Sorry about the mess. We had a thing.¡± Six humans, all of them restrained in some way, were lined up on the carpet around the room¡¯s fireplace. One of them was glaring at James, but the rest were either unconscious, or had a terrified look in their eyes. A pile of stuff sat on the kitchen table next to a cold pot of coffee, the pile of guns, knives, handcuffs, and one police badge watched over by a grumpy looking Rufus. ¡°Where¡¯s my mom?¡± El asked, instantly. ¡°Upstairs. She¡¯s helping the new girl with something. And Jeanne and Ava are fine too, just taking a nap in your bed. Sorry bout that, there wasn¡¯t much space.¡± El had already bolted up the stairs, and Anesh just finished the sentence with a kind of incredulous shrug fired after her retreating form. Then Anesh met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°We¡¯ve got a big problem.¡± He said. ¡°Bigger than these idiots, anyway.¡± Alanna added, lurking in the back corner with her arms crossed. ¡°Though these idiots are part of it.¡± Anesh countered. ¡°Allegedly.¡± ¡°Allegedly, yes.¡± He rolled his eyes. ¡°Also, good to see you up. You doing okay?¡± Anesh asked James, who was watching the two of them with a goofy grin on his face. James just kept smiling. ¡°I¡¯m doing great.¡± He said, settling into a chair and high fiving Rufus. And then, after a wince of pain, added, ¡°But I would like some painkillers. And shoes. And my gun.¡± He directed a look at their bruised captives. ¡°And then, after that?¡± James let his voice get serious. ¡°I think I would like some answers.¡± Chapter 159 ¡°No one spoke. There was no need. The threat of the Eldrazi presented a simple choice: lay down your weapons and die for nothing, or hold them fast and die for something.¡± -MTG, Time Of Heroes- _____ ¡°What the shit was that?¡± El demanded, practically flinging herself down the thin stairs that led to the home¡¯s upper floor. The front door was still hanging open, though most of the shattered glass had been swept up; a fact the still shoeless James was grateful for. ¡°You all heard that, right?!¡± She asked in a panicked pitch. ¡°Sounded like an explosion.¡± Anesh said. He, along with James and Alanna, were standing on the front lawn discussing how to proceed. Anesh had his arms folded, but it didn¡¯t seem like the distant blast had changed his mood one way or the other. James nodded at his boyfriend. ¡°I¡¯d guess about six miles away.¡± He added. ¡°How can you possibly know that.¡± Alanna sounded more amused than really that confused. ¡°How do you know how to take care of a peregrine falcon?¡± James rebutted. Alanna glared at him with her eyes, but her voice betrayed laughter. ¡°I *don¡¯t know*, dumbass. How *do* I know that?¡± ¡°Right, sorry!¡± James threw his hands up into the night air. ¡°I¡¯m doing really bad at this! I¡¯m sorry!¡± None of their antics deterred El. ¡°What about *the explosion*!?¡± She repeated herself. ¡°What does it mean? Are you gonna do anything about it?¡± ¡°We¡¯re still deciding how to question the prisoners.¡± James said. ¡°Also bringing Alanna up to speed on everything, and me up to speed on how *we are all dead if we don¡¯t solve this problem in twenty hours*.¡± His voice cracked a bit at the end, real panic overriding his snarky attitude. ¡°We¡¯re not all dead, we¡¯re just¡­¡± Anesh trailed off. ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t have a good answer for that.¡± ¡°Explosion!¡± El yelled at them, loudly enough that a short moment later, Jeanne pulled open an upstairs window and hissed at her to be quiet. ¡°Explosion!¡± She repeated, softer. ¡°El, it¡¯s all going to shit.¡± James sighed. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because the brute squad in there failed to capture Ava, maybe it¡¯s because the gatekeeper showed up, or maybe this was always the timeline and we¡¯re just caught in it. But it¡¯s getting bad.¡± ¡°I think a lot of people tried to leave all at once.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I don¡¯t know if they knew why, but when I went to meet the Last-¡° ¡°Don¡¯t call it that.¡± James shook his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t get a cool name. It¡¯s the gatekeeper.¡± ¡°-The¡­ gatekeeper¡­ there were a *ton* of cars lined up trying to get to the highway. And that was just an hour or two ago.¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°For some reason, everyone knows to bail.¡± ¡°I think the biggest problem is that the dungeon is snapping up territory out here, which is what attracted the ol¡¯ gatesman.¡± James grit his teeth. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s spawning anything out here, just casually existing. And declaring the town our property hasn¡¯t worked.¡± ¡°You tried that?¡± ¡°I try that with every city, even if there isn¡¯t a dungeon.¡± James smiled. Alanna cut in. ¡°So why is the explosion? I¡¯m not gonna freak out like her,¡± She jerked her head toward El, ¡°but I would kinda like to know what¡¯s blowing up.¡± ¡°I have no idea!¡± James answered. ¡°We should go ask.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t we supposed to be the professionals at this?¡± Alanna challenged James. ¡°I don¡¯t actually *remember*, but it does feel like ¡®I dunno¡¯ isn¡¯t the answer I want to hear.¡± She paused. Did she not remember? There was that feeling again, that warm buzz of memory just at the edge of her perception. ¡°We¡¯ve done this before.¡± She stated quietly. ¡°We have.¡± James agreed. ¡°Do you remember where?¡± ¡°I want to say high school, but¡­ no, we went to school together. And then¡­ a different school¡­¡± Alanna grabbed at her forehead. ¡°Ow.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t push it.¡± James told her, holding back from reaching out to give her a comforting touch. ¡°Okay. We need a plan *now*.¡± He got them back on track. ¡°Does anyone know how to do an interrogation?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Of how to interrogate people?¡± ¡°Of how *we* can interrogate *these* people.¡± Anesh replied. ¡°Alanna, you can read minds, right?¡± ¡°No.¡± James blinked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Alanna added. ¡°I also wanna double up on the ¡®what¡¯.¡± El said. ¡°If you take perception from me.¡± Anesh clarified. ¡°Then your empathy ability can pick out details to the extent that it may as well be surface level mind reading. Yes?¡± ¡°Okay, fine.¡± Alanna conceded. ¡°But don¡¯t call it mind reading. I don¡¯t really like how that feels.¡± ¡°To be clear, we could *all* read their minds, with a router and a length of cable.¡± James pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m glad you have an idea that isn¡¯t that, but I just want us to be aware that if it¡¯s a choice between the lives left in this city, and the mental privacy of those assholes, I know where I¡¯m falling.¡± ¡°Noted. But this isn¡¯t that unethical. And it¡¯s gonna work, because we¡¯ve got six whole prisoners to work with. El, go bring us one of them, while I explain cold reading and word association to these two.¡± Reluctantly, El ducked back into the house and headed to the living room where they¡¯d tied up the people who had come to kidnap Ava not even an hour ago. Outside, James, Anesh, and Alanna stood in a loose circle. After Anesh explained his plan, none of them knew what to say, exactly. How did you go about taking a quiet moment before the end of the world to talk about your feelings? Even if that apocalypse was a pretty local one, it was still kind of daunting. Alanna kept stealing glances at Anesh, though. And at a certain point, James just had to ask. ¡°You seem like you¡¯ve got something Anesh-related on your mind. What¡¯s up?¡± Anesh, hearing his name, glanced up from the notebook he was writing a list of potential keywords in. ¡°Ah.¡± Alanna said, and looked away a bit awkwardly. ¡°Out of curiosity¡­ um¡­ do you have a brother?¡± Anesh quirked an eyebrow and frowned. ¡°No, I¡­ oh. Oh! No, there¡¯s copies of me! Did James not tell you that? Or do you remember something else?¡± ¡°I told her, but she didn¡¯t believe me.¡± James helpfully added. ¡°But yeah, what did you remember, out of curiosity?¡± And to his intense amusement, Alanna *blushed* and deliberately didn¡¯t make eye contact with either of them. In her head, the memory that had cracked the surface of her mind as she stood there with the others, was a moment of intensely intimately passion. Alanna replayed a scene of having four hands belonging to the same person holding her, warm skin pressed against her own, tangled blankets and dim light and gleefully explored lusts. She didn¡¯t need that distraction right now. So instead, she said, ¡°Just a conversation.¡± ¡°*Really*¡± James grinned at her. ¡°No.¡± Alanna replied. ¡°But I don¡¯t wanna get into it right now.¡± Instantly, James let the grin retreat, and nodded at her. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Sorry, I won¡¯t push it. When you¡¯re ready, you can talk about it.¡± ¡°You two are so fucking weird.¡± Alanna muttered. Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°How so?¡± He asked. ¡°Because I think I¡¯m the normal one.¡± ¡°You have clones.¡± James pointed out. ¡°And I¡¯m a wizard.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a wizard too!¡± Anesh protested. Alanna cut their friendly banter off. ¡°You¡¯re too fucking nice.¡± She said, almost grumpily. ¡°People aren¡¯t this nice.¡± ¡°You only think that because you¡¯ve been hanging out with the wrong people.¡± James told her. ¡°Or rather¡­ okay, that¡¯s not fair. I think a lot of people are assholes because we don¡¯t properly teach people how to be kind. And then you compound that with the massive stressors of daily life, and a lot of unexamined historical context, and it all builds up, and¡­¡± ¡°See, this is what I¡¯m talking about.¡± Alanna interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re even trying to understand why people suck, so you aren¡¯t *mean to people who suck*. That¡¯s just weird.¡± ¡°Eh. If I don¡¯t, how will I ever be able to help them stop sucking?¡± James replied. ¡°Also, I hate to cut this short, but our first victim is here.¡± He motioned to where El was ordering a hobbled prisoner down the wooden front porch steps. She¡¯d taken the time to fetch her shotgun, and kept the middle aged man at about a full arms length away, making it highly unlikely he could get away with anything. ¡°Gimmie the notes.¡± He held out a hand to Anesh, who slapped the notebook into it. What followed was the strangest opening salvo in an interrogation James could imagine. El had picked out the guy who looked the least important, and also had the most broken bones from Camille, so he wouldn¡¯t have to spend too much time on this. With Alanna watching carefully, and Anesh blinding himself to effectively double her ability to do so, James read off single relevant keywords from the notebook provided. ¡°Road.¡± He said flatly. No response besides mild confusion. ¡°Monsters. Suns.¡± The man flinched, making the connection. Alanna spoke quietly. ¡°Fear, of us, for someone else. Undercurrent of protective instinct. He won¡¯t say anything because he is worried about hurting someone. Someone he worships.¡± Nodding as if he understood perfectly while Anesh wrote that all down in a separate notebook, James continued. ¡°Property. Acquisition. Missing persons. Murders.¡± That got a reaction. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill anyone!¡± The man¡­ no, the *kid*, protested. He was probably older than James, but James labeled him a kid in his head at hearing the whiny voice. Though, to be fair, his arm was in a makeshift splint right now, which couldn¡¯t feel good. ¡°Half truth.¡± Alanna said. ¡°He won¡¯t say what he knows.¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t the police!¡± The idiot said, as if that protected him. ¡°The horizon won¡¯t¡­ you can¡¯t do anything to me!¡± James blinked and almost went off script. If someone said that to *him*, he¡¯d find it reassuring, but for *most* people, the police would be the safe option. Random people with superpowers, not so much. So he just continued. ¡°Blackout. Communications. Cut off.¡± Nothing. ¡°The Last Line Of Defense.¡± Nothing but confusion, Alanna said nothing, so he kept going. ¡°Tradition. Profit. Ritual.¡± ¡°He¡¯s panicking.¡± Alanna informed him. ¡°He knows something he¡¯s not supposed to, and he¡¯s terrified to say it.¡± ¡°A ritual.¡± James said, eyebrows raised as he stood over the kneeling figure on the dried out front lawn. ¡°No. *The* ritual. Would you tell us what you know?¡± The man looked up at James with pleading eyes, tears welling in the corners of them. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± He moaned. ¡°He¡¯ll kill me. The mechanic will kill me. Please. I have a fam-¡° ¡°Quiet.¡± James said. Then he nodded at El. ¡°Take him to the back yard, let the others see he¡¯s alive, but don¡¯t put him back with them.¡± He paused, then added with a sigh, ¡°Then bring the next one.¡± She nodded and hauled the guy to his feet, struggling a bit as her untrained muscles protested the limply unresisting mass of their prisoner. ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh said as he pulled his senses back. ¡°Two new keywords, and something to focus on.¡± ¡°You really think any of them will fall for this?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°I¡¯m doing my best Shawn Spencer impression, but that guy seemed more impressed by the broken bone than any of our shit.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll bet you an orb the next one gives us something valuable.¡± Anesh said. ¡°A what?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll like it.¡± James informed her. ¡°Also, okay, seriously? I¡¯m sorry that I¡¯m handling this badly. I really want to fall back into old habits, but that isn¡¯t what you need right now. So just let me know when I make you uncomfortable, okay?¡± Alanna barked out a laugh. A different laugh than James knew from her; a harsher, angrier laugh. ¡°What I need? All I need is to know who I am. You¡¯re helping, in your own dumb way.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to think I¡¯m contributing.¡± Anesh added. ¡°In a totally different dumb way.¡± He and James shared goofy grins with each other. Alanna just sighed. ¡°You two are way too sappy. Here comes El, ready?¡± ¡°Ready.¡± This man, who¡¯d escaped mostly unharmed due to Anesh pointing a gun at him and telling him to sit down instead of letting Camille break his legs, was older than the last. Before James could even start listing words, he tried to take control of the conversation. ¡°You won¡¯t get away with this!¡± Was his first incorrect assumption. ¡°Just give us the girl and you can still leave!¡± None of them bothered answering. James just sighed, while Anesh pushed his perception toward Alanna, who caught it and opened razor sharp eyes to watch the proceedings. ¡°Horizon.¡± James said. Instantly, Alanna tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°He knows something he hasn¡¯t told the others. Deep notes of greed, and guilt too, buried under the greed.¡± ¡°Those idiots want to protect the damn thing!¡± The man shouted. ¡°Like it¡¯s some kind of nature preserve, or endangered animal! But it¡¯s *property*, dammit! What¡¯s the point of owning property if it doesn¡¯t make you money?¡± James considered shooting him right there, but restrained himself. It was mostly a passing, sarcastic joke of a thought, anyway. ¡°Missing persons. Empty city. Murders.¡± ¡°Self defense!¡± Came the snapped protest. ¡°Lie.¡± Alanna growled. ¡°The mechanic.¡± James said, eyes hard but voice even. ¡°He¡¯ll kill you when he finds you.¡± The man snorted and spat at James¡¯ feet. ¡°You can¡¯t stop him. So it doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯ll be rich, and you¡¯ll be dead.¡± ¡°The ritual.¡± The man¡¯s face betrayed enough that Alanna didn¡¯t even bother chiming in. ¡°When is it happening?¡± James asked directly for a change. The older man just laughed at him. A smoker¡¯s laugh, rough and rude. ¡°Supposed to be as soon as we had the kid.¡± The man shifted on his knees, trying to get comfortable and failing. ¡°Guess he got impatient.¡± He said with a flinch as a distant crash of metal and glass sounded. ¡°Tell us where to find the mechanic.¡± James ordered. ¡°Nah.¡± The man settled back on his heels. ¡°You¡¯ll have to offer-¡° ¡°We¡¯re done here.¡± James cut him off, channeling everything he remembered from Nate about how to maintain control of an interaction like this. ¡°Apologies for the inconvenience, but my friend here is going to render you unconscious.¡± At James¡¯ wave, Alanna stepped around behind him and grabbed the man in a sleeper hold. Probably a little harder than was required, but it didn¡¯t take too long for his sputtering struggles to drop off as he passed out. ¡°Okay.¡± James said, doing a quick review. ¡°These guys are obviously a cult, worshiping the road, which they call the Horizon. Good name. The mechanic is, I¡¯m guessing, their leader?¡± ¡°Even odds they¡¯re some kind of rogue dungeon life.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Hey guys? What are we doing with this dude?¡± El asked, toeing the unconscious guy on the ground. ¡°Oh, we¡¯ll carry him to the back deck, bring the other guy in, and make a group offer to the prisoners.¡± James said offhandedly. El pursed her lips. ¡°Offer of what?¡± She asked. ¡°We aren¡¯t killing them or anything, right?¡± ¡°Nah.¡± James said. ¡°We just need to know where their leader is.¡± ¡°Okay, I feel like I¡¯m two steps behind.¡± El took a deep breath. ¡°What exactly are we supposed to be doing?¡± James let out a small noise of recognition as Alanna nodded along with El¡¯s words. ¡°Ah, okay. So. The Last Line Of Defense is - yes Anesh I said it - is here because the dungeon took territory outside its own borders, and has been spreading outward. Since, you know, it obviously doesn¡¯t give a shit about the people in danger. The obvious fix to this is to just reclaim the territory, which I guess it can¡¯t do. We¡¯ve run into this before, and tested it a bit with the Ascent; dungeons apparently have a very, *very* hard time holding on to bits of Earth without something anchoring them. Now, that *could* be the real estate agents owning all the lots and having a ¡®claim¡¯ on them, and if any of the people in there are those people, we¡¯ll ask them to give it up. But it¡¯s way more likely it¡¯s all been moved to the head of their cult.¡± ¡°Why?¡± El asked. ¡°Like, why join a cult anyway? This is nuts.¡± ¡°I mean, you saw the first kid. Alanna, what was his main emotion?¡± ¡°Awe.¡± Alanna answered instantly. ¡°Everything was tainted with it. Dude probably loves the¡­ I¡¯m sorry, you said ¡®dungeon¡¯ several times, and I know you explained it, but I¡¯m having a really hard time with that word.¡± James smiled and bit back a laugh. ¡°No worries. So. Find the leader, wrest control from him, solve the immediately impending doom, and then worry about the loose ends.¡± ¡°Yeah, cause there¡¯s a lot of loose ends.¡± Anesh grumbled. ¡°Like whatever was happening to Jeanne and Ava.¡± ¡°And right now, the loose end is this guy¡¯s legs. Anesh, get this guy¡¯s legs.¡± James said, grabbing the unconscious man¡¯s arms. ¡°We can sort out the rest later. But we are on a time budget right now, and I¡¯ve only got so many explanations in me before the head injury and lack of real rest catch up to me.¡± He and Anesh awkwardly walked the unconscious body through the front hall and kitchen of El¡¯s childhood home, drawing concerned looks and angry yells from the other four prisoners tied up in the living room. Alanna silenced their yells with folded arms and a glare, but they still gave worried or infuriated stares as James and Anesh carefully set their interrogation victim on the back porch, and brought the first kid back inside. ¡°Alright.¡± James said, ignoring the fact that El¡¯s mom was calmly making a second pot of coffee behind him in the kitchen while this was going on. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal.¡± ¡°You killed Mark!¡± One of the bound women accused him harshly. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± James stretched his enhanced memory, but couldn¡¯t quite remember. ¡°Wasn¡¯t Mark the other guy? The realtor from earlier? Are there two Marks in your¡­¡± He raised a questioning eyebrow. One of the prisoners actually answered. ¡°It¡¯s really confusing, yeah.¡± The man said awkwardly. ¡°Okay. Well, no. Mark¡¯s not dead. Either of them.¡± James sighed. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal,¡± he repeated, ¡°you lot have pissed off something way too powerful, and way too callous. We have about eighteen hours before people like the woman who wrecked your shit without even trying start collapsing buildings and killing people, to figure out what¡¯s gone wrong, and undo it.¡± James saw disbelief on some of their faces. ¡°I know about what you call the Horizon.¡± He said, and instantly all of them perked up. ¡°I¡¯ve been there. Explored it. Nice place.¡± The last comment was not made without purpose. As soon as he said it, Alanna stepped forward, and pointed. ¡°Those three.¡± She said, pointing out the ones with the right emotional profile. James looked at them, one by one. ¡°You care about it.¡± He said. ¡°That¡¯s not bad. To be clear here; caring about a place like that isn¡¯t bad at all. Though treating it like a holy site is a little uncomfortable.¡± He winced, thinking of the Sewer. ¡°But I¡¯m not here to punish you for that. What I¡¯m *here* for is to protect the people of this city who are more or less defenseless against some of the nastier mind magic you guys have going on. So. I¡¯m gonna ask this once. Are you willing to help me find a solution that leaves everyone alive, or are you going to get out of my way?¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. There was a long silence, broken only by the burbling hiss of the coffee pot and a small muttered ¡®thanks¡¯ as James took an offered cup from Marjorie. ¡°We were supposed to bring her to life.¡± One of the younger of the tied up men said. ¡°Kirk!¡± The woman next to him snapped harshly, her voice acidic. ¡°What?¡± The kid looked like he was still looking forward to going to a bar for the first time. ¡°Gonna kick me out or something? We¡¯re all going to jail anyway. Who cares?¡± He looked back at James, anger in his eyes. ¡°We weren¡¯t supposed to hurt anyone. We were just doing what we needed to bring her back to life.¡± ¡°Her?¡± ¡°Horizon.¡± The other woman said, with the reverently solemn tone of a true believer. ¡°The Lady Of Travel. Years of work, so much effort, so much *waiting*, and all of it undone at the last step because of you.¡± ¡°If you call me a meddling kid, I¡¯m adding you to the naptime pile on the porch.¡± James said. ¡°Last step?¡± ¡°The vessel.¡± The young guy said. ¡°The¡­ the little girl. The Mechanic told us we just had to wait, that she¡¯d arrive in due time. He didn¡¯t tell us that we¡¯d be *kidnapping her*.¡± He snarled. ¡°Yeah, well, kinda late to pretend you give a shit about that, huh?¡± El asked glibly, kicking her feet up on the coffee table and taking a relaxed posture on the couch that still let her keep the gun at hand. ¡°Language, young lady.¡± Her mom chastised her. James smothered a grin. ¡°Alright, alright. Everyone shut up, let me put this together.¡± He pressed his fingertips into each other, tapping his steepled hands against pursed lips. ¡°Okay. So. The Mechanic of yours discovers the d- the road. Horizon. Then recruits all of you?¡± Nods, even if they were reluctant. ¡°Okay. And this was years ago. But he has a plan, some kind of grand work. So you all get to work. Buying up property, getting jobs in the city government or police. And then you settle in to keep rolling along, enjoying the wealth and power, until it¡¯s time to finish the work, right?¡± No one argued. Even the young guy, who must have been a teenager when this started. Hell, he might be one of the other cultist¡¯s kids. ¡°So that brings us up to recently. When Ava and her mom roll into town, and for some reason, your boss singles her out as the culmination of his plans, starts the ritual that needs her, and attracts outside attention.¡± He didn¡¯t say that he was pretty sure he knew *why*. ¡°What I don¡¯t get is, why wait until tonight to try to kidnap her?¡± ¡°What does it matter to you?¡± The angry woman snarled. ¡°You are *nothing* in the grand plan of-¡° Alanna casually stepped forward and with a satisfying snrrrrk sound tore off a strip of duct tape and affixed it over the woman¡¯s mouth. ¡°Yes thank you.¡± James did grin now. ¡°Any other answers?¡± ¡°We did try.¡± The guilty kid said, now actually crying silently. ¡°We kept trying. But the last week, every time we¡¯ve gone to where they¡¯re supposed to be, they¡¯ve just been *gone*. So he told us to wait, until he could manifest a tracker to help us.¡± ¡°...Gone?¡± James glanced over at Anesh, who looked back at him with wide eyes. His boyfriend had already put the pieces together. ¡°Because Ava and Jeanne were busy walking toward the road.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Because it was *calling* to them.¡± Alanna made an interjecting noise. ¡°Is that not just a coincidence?¡± She asked. ¡°I know it¡¯s not, but I wanna know why.¡± ¡°Because it can¡¯t talk to people.¡± James said. ¡°Not like we can, or even its creations can. So if it wants to get them to *move*, on short notice?¡± He rubbed at his forehead, head still aching from the events of the day. ¡°It only had one option, probably.¡± Anesh punched a fist into his own palm. ¡°It did what it could to make sure they didn¡¯t get their hands on Ava.¡± ¡°Why?!¡± One of the cultists that had been listening in yelled at them. ¡°Why?! We were trying to help!¡± He struggled in vain against the ropes holding his hands. ¡°We were just trying to help! The Mechanic was just showing us what we needed to do to save her!¡± And there it was. James sighed, and shook his head. In any other circumstances, he¡¯d hire that guy in a heartbeat, and give him some way to actually help. And maybe he still would, later. But here, right now, all he could think was how *stupid* these people were. A random person, or possibly a friend or relative of theirs, had shown up one day, probably thrown around some magic, declared themselves a prophet of a sleeping god, and they had *gone along with it*. And some of them obviously, painfully, believed in their cause. In the splendor and beauty of the dungeon. But no matter what they *believed*, they had one fatal flaw in everything they were doing. None of them could ask their god if it was what it wanted. Even the most worshipful of the cultists were still clearly terrified of the Mechanic. Of who he was, or what he¡¯d become, or perhaps just the power he commanded. And it was through his mouth that every word of their religion was filtered. And so, at the end of the day, the people who thought they were saving a lost god, were spending their nights trying to kidnap a child, because it *seemed like the right thing to do*. ¡°You fucking idiots.¡± James whispered. Alanna got it suddenly, too, and was a lot less subtle than he was. ¡°You *fucking* idiots!¡± She yelled, looking like she wanted to start kicking faces. From the table behind her, Rufus looked like he was ready to join her; or at least cheer her on. ¡°You didn¡¯t *ask*!¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said, calmly laying a hand on Alanna¡¯s shoulder without thinking about the gesture. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal. You¡¯re going to tell us where the Mechanic is. We¡¯re going to go unfuck this mess - yes, sorry Ms. Chase - and we¡¯ll go from there, okay?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have to tell you any-!¡± Another snrrrrrk of the roll of duct tape silenced another dissenter. ¡°Anyone else?¡± James asked. It only took one more satisfying duct tape noise before one of the more cooperative prisoners told them where they were going. Union Street Auto Body. An actual mechanic, which shouldn¡¯t have surprised James at all. The three of them - and also El, James realized he¡¯d been quietly ignoring her - regrouped on the front lawn. Ganesh followed them out, alighting on Anesh¡¯s shoulder again and drawing a small flinch from Alanna as the drone passed her. Rufus got as far as the porch, but didn¡¯t wander out to the lawn where he might get underfoot. The neighborhood was dark, James realized. Darker than it should have been. The street lamps were on, casting their ancient orange glow onto the pavement from bulbs that would one day be updated to harsh white LEDs, but for now, kept burning their warm color. But the windows of every other house on the street were dark. ¡°Does anyone else live here?¡± He asked El suddenly. ¡°Nope.¡° She said. ¡°Mom said the last neighbor moved away a month ago.¡± ¡°Course.¡± He sighed. ¡°Alright. What do we have to work with?¡± ¡°Your rifle got fucked up in the crash. It doesn¡¯t *look* warped or anything, but it won¡¯t fire, and I don¡¯t actually know how to perform field maintenance on these things.¡± Anesh told James. ¡°Aside from that, we¡¯ve got roughly one and a half sets of body armor, two swords, five cars, a motorcycle that El¡¯s mom has for some reason-¡° ¡°I¡¯m starting to worry my mom might be cool.¡± El shook her head sadly. ¡°-And then whatever magic we have to bring to bear. Telepads are out, but we do have one blue from it, along with about a hundred yellow and twenty purple orbs from the trunk. The lunchbox *did* survive, by the way, I know that¡¯s important to you.¡± ¡°It really is.¡± James conformed. ¡°What about skulljacks? Do we have braids?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got two. But no wifi in the area, and no host device, means we probably can¡¯t fully merge.¡± ¡°What about using my phone as a wifi hotspot?¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re really overestimating how much power your phone has.¡± ¡°Also,¡± Alanna added, ¡°you¡¯re assuming your phone is still in one piece.¡± ¡°Aw, not again.¡± James checked his pockets for the first time since his car had flipped over, and found them devoid of phone, but containing a few new holes where sharp shards of jagged metal and plastic had cut through. ¡°Super. Also, five cars?¡± ¡°El¡¯s, whatever nightmare you¡¯re driving, and the three we now own by right of violence from our prisoners.¡± Anesh listed off. ¡°Also technically, our car should be *fine* by now, if the car-specific health potion has done its job. But it¡¯ll just be upside down.¡± There was the sound of one of the upstairs windows opening, and second later, a dull thud as Camille joined them on the lawn. ¡°Where¡¯ve *you* been?¡± James asked her with raised eyebrows. ¡°Also nice entrance.¡± ¡°Upstairs.¡± She answered, without providing any information. ¡°Have your questions borne answers?¡± James and Alanna filled her in. The cult, the Mechanic, everything they¡¯d learned. She just nodded once. ¡°Interesting. You are proving proficient at information collection.¡± She said to Anesh in that distant, dry tone. ¡°Uh¡­ thanks?¡± He glanced over at James, and they shared a shrug. ¡°So far, it¡¯s mostly just been keeping ourselves in the right place, and letting answers reveal themselves. So, any thoughts?¡± Camille frowned at him. ¡°I am here to observe, not assist.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what you were doing earlier.¡± Anesh pointed out to her with a bitter anger. ¡°You can apparently observe just fine while you¡¯re flinging people into bushes and breaking arms!¡± ¡°That was¡­ different.¡± ¡°Lie.¡± Alanna said, suddenly and surprised by her own revelation. ¡°You¡¯re lying. Why?¡± She looked closer at Camille. ¡°You could fix this whole problem by yourself, but you haven¡¯t yet. Anesh said you *punched a hole in a truck*, but now you¡¯re pretending you don¡¯t have to do anything?¡± ¡°I have my task.¡± Camille told her, clear anger showing through. But also, to Alanna, something else too. Trepidation, anxiety. She had her orders, but for the first time, she worried they weren¡¯t enough. Or worse, were *wrong*. ¡°I will observe. No more. Neither will I join you in the center of this hostile domain. I owe you no explanations. You cannot force me regardless, no matter what my father thinks of your potential.¡± James was starting to dislike Camille, whatever she happened to be. But as he opened his mouth to be mean to her, Alanna held an arm in front of him, and spoke first. ¡°You don¡¯t seem like you¡¯re used to being scared,¡± She said in a quiet tone, like she was willing calm into the world, ¡°so you may not understand what that feeling in the bottom of your gut is. But none of us are going to interpret it as weakness if you tell us what has you worried.¡± A long quiet, then, where the main noise was mostly just Camille slightly growling at them as she gave Alanna a cold glare. Then James spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s the Mechanic¡¯s plan, isn¡¯t it?¡± He asked. ¡°You were fine helping Anesh in small ways before. But you heard that, and now you¡¯re back to the whole ¡®observe and report¡¯ thing. So what about it bothers you?¡± He puzzled it out aloud, mostly for his own benefit. ¡°It can¡¯t be the dungeon territory expanding; you¡¯re literally here to deal with that. So it must be something about the ritual itself. Or is it just the end result? The idea of a dungeon, in a human body? Is that-¡° ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± Alanna confirmed, reading the smallest hints of emotional tones off Camille¡¯s face and body language. ¡°She¡¯s worried about a dungeon person.¡± ¡°I worry about nothing. You waste time. Kill your prisoners, and be about your business of heroism.¡± Camille snapped at them, grinding her teeth in frustration. Anesh held up a single finger to James¡¯ lips as soon as James tried to open his mouth. ¡°That¡¯s an obvious attempt at a distraction.¡± He said. James rolled his eyes. ¡°I *know* that.¡± He said. Honestly, he wasn¡¯t *that* transparently single minded. And Camille, for all that she could punch trees in half, wasn¡¯t exactly a skilled manipulator. ¡°Look,¡± he addressed the armored woman, ¡°I get it. It¡¯s not exactly subtle. You¡¯re worried that if this works, there¡¯ll be a life form on the planet that¡¯s a massive threat to your father, what with his seeming weakness to dungeons for some reason. You don¡¯t need to explain yourself to us. But being standoffish because you don¡¯t know how to manage your fears isn¡¯t helpful. You want this thing stopped before it¡¯s a problem? Help us stop it. Everyone wins.¡± He didn¡¯t smile, he didn¡¯t try to add on extra information or arguments. James applied everything he¡¯d picked up, from the professional socialites in their Order and from different parts of a dozen different orbs, and turned it on Camille. A rock solid wall of believable, possibly naive sounding heroism, that she could make use of to accomplish what she truly wanted. It would, of course, be so easy for her. Because James was ¡®the good guy¡¯. Even Anesh saw him that way, to a fault. And when she nodded, he wasn¡¯t even surprised. Because Camille, James has already noticed, was very bad at manipulating people. And as a corollary, she had even worse defenses against being manipulated herself. James *was* the good guy. Or at least, he strived to be a force that did good. But he wasn¡¯t stupid. And at the end of this, there weren¡¯t a lot of ways out of a messy situation. Because one way or another, as soon as the Last Line Of Defense knew that they knew about the *potential* for something like this, it would probably deem their entire Order a threat. Which meant it couldn¡¯t know. Which meant, one way or another, Camille couldn¡¯t tell it. And while James could see in her the spark of the desire to make the world better, to help people and uplift the weak and lost, he could also see a fierce loyalty to the thing she called a father. He¡¯d written as much in small notes, when trying to stealthily communicate a plan with Anesh and Alanna. By the end of tomorrow, Camille had to be either with them, taking a leap of faith to abandon her life and join up with the Order of Endless Rooms, or, she had to be dead. The option of her reporting back wasn¡¯t on the table. Because there was no future for them otherwise. ¡°Very well.¡± Camille said, her emotions solidifying into a plan of action that she was much more comfortable with. With a single nod, she banished the doubt she was feeling. Of *course* there was an obvious way to help her father. He would understand. ¡°We will kill the aberration and its minions. My father will understand.¡± ¡°Glad we got that settled.¡± El said. ¡°So, what are we *doing* then?¡± ¡°Oh, are you with us?¡± James asked her, legitimately curious. ¡°I kinda thought¡­¡± ¡°Dude. Dude, come on.¡± El rolled her eyes at him. ¡°It¡¯s figuratively do or die. What am I supposed to do, sit out?¡± James corrected her without thinking. ¡°Literally.¡± ¡°Nah,¡± El said, ¡°people always use literally wrong.¡± Anesh looked like he was having the world¡¯s biggest headache, which James knew wasn¡¯t true, since the holder of that title was currently himself. ¡°Can we please focus? Do we *have* a plan beyond ¡®go there and start shooting¡¯?¡± ¡°The site is defended.¡± Camille spoke up. ¡°I can feel it.¡± ¡°And you didn¡¯t say anything because..?¡± She shot a cold look toward Alanna. ¡°My assault sense requires me to be part of said assault.¡± ¡°First off, that¡¯s a rad power.¡± James commented. ¡°We¡¯re gonna talk about that power later. Second, defended how? Is it something we can get through?¡± Camille looked like she was focusing into the distance. ¡°Sturdy walls, reinforced. Two trapped doors. A small army. And one very large guardian.¡± The group was quiet for a bit, thinking individually. Anesh spoke up first. ¡°We have thermite for the doors. I don¡¯t think any of us could just go through the walls. Well, maybe Camille could?¡± ¡°Hit from two sides, if we want to do that.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°The ¡®small army¡¯ thing worries me. Do you have enough bullets?¡± ¡°The rifle won¡¯t run out. It¡¯s mostly a question of if it can hurt them at all.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°We have the earring,¡± he tapped his own ear, ¡°one of us could sneak in.¡± ¡°Too risky.¡± James decided. ¡°And a *very large guardian* isn¡¯t?¡± El asked with a snort. ¡°How do you plan to deal with that?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy.¡± James said. ¡°A very large weapon.¡± ¡°Got one of those handy?¡± Alanna asked, saying out loud what the childly curious look on Camille¡¯s face spoke anyway. James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s our modus operandi.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ll think of something.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lie at best.¡± Anesh muttered. ¡°*Anyway*.¡± James continued without letting anyone else interrupt. ¡°We¡¯ve still got manipulate asphalt charges left. That¡¯s kind of a big gun, let¡¯s use that.¡± Anesh winced. ¡°Bad news.¡± His boyfriend said. ¡°I tried it earlier, and whether its the Route Predation or the Mechanic, it doesn¡¯t much matter; any asphalt on claimed territory snaps out of our control almost right away.¡± Well, James thought to himself but did not say out loud, that kind of ruined a lot of their biggest weapons. He racked his brain, trying to think of a way they could make a head on attack against something that knew they were coming work. At one point, he glanced at El, who was either also thinking, or just staring at the stars for what she might have thought was the last time. And then James started to open his mouth. Because he remembered that El could do something he couldn¡¯t. And even knowing the limitation of her most concerning spell, he still wanted to ask if she could trace them a route to victory. But he didn¡¯t say anything, because his first thought was wrong, wasn¡¯t it? She wasn¡¯t the only one with a piece of magic from the Route. James closed his eyes and focused on that new esoteric organ in his chest. The one that held Velocity. He was capped out, a full tank of the stuff ready to go. And more than that, he knew in his bones the formula for refilling it. And he had an idea. He had one spell, but it was a pretty good one. Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel. He hadn¡¯t used it, but he did instinctively understand what it did for him; a massive boost in focus, detail work, and even creativity, as long as he kept it going. It ate one Velocity a minute. And he felt, *knew*, that it would let him pull the shit he was thinking of. He did some quick math. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea for a big gun.¡± He looked at the other four with a solemn gaze. ¡°Anesh, get the orbs. No use hanging onto them if we¡¯re all about to die. El, go collect car keys and clear this street for us. Camille¡­ keep doing your thing. Alanna, go check on everyone, make sure the prisoners are tied up and the non-prisoners are doing okay.¡± He turned and looked off into the distance, where another echoing crash had just sounded and the flicker of an uncontrolled fire was growing. ¡°We¡¯ve got two deadlines, and I don¡¯t know which is worse. So let¡¯s not waste time.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your plan?¡± Anesh asked. James was busy looking at the road. The road in front of the only house on the street with the lights on; the only piece of territory near here that they were sure hadn¡¯t been bought or claimed, added to the dungeon¡¯s control somehow. He hadn¡¯t had any trouble manipulating the asphalt here. ¡°My plan,¡± he said carefully, ¡°is to ask Alanna to fucking floor it to our target.¡± _____ They split the purple orbs five each, with Camille abstaining. Or just not being invited. James didn''t figure she needed more powers. [Shell Upgraded : Optics - Safe Lumen Threshold - +18,300] [Shell Upgraded : Considered Reaction Time -1.8 Seconds] [Shell Upgraded : Ligament Tensile Strength +88 PSI] [Shell Upgraded : Radiosynthesis - Dermal Absorption - X-Ray - 3% Capture Rate] [Shell Upgraded : -3 Broken Bones / Year] ¡°I¡¯m glad we had one of the broken bone ones here.¡± James said as he finished. ¡°Honestly, we should have maybe waited a week to duplicate a full superpower suite for ourselves.¡± ¡°First off, none of these are duplicates, that¡¯s just a coincidence.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Also if we¡¯d waited a week, this whole town would be gone, and we¡¯d be too late.¡± ¡°Fair point.¡± James conceded, while Anesh got to work on his own purples. Anesh had a different style than James for these. He liked to savor each one. Well, not ¡®savor¡¯ exactly, but consider at least with a passing thought, not just let the magic pile up and deal with it later. [Shell Upgraded : Liver Processing - +3 oz/day]. Interesting, but not useful here, and Anesh didn¡¯t really drink. Probably not bad for his health though, assuming he survived the night. [Shell Upgraded : Lift Capacity - Arms - +120 lbs]. While it was worded strangely, fundamentally this just gave him the muscle mass and capability to do what it said. Anesh used to get worried about the specifics of orbs like this, but none of them seemed to slow him down, so he filed it under ¡®passively useful¡¯ and moved on. [Shell Upgraded : Refractory Period - -3 minutes]. He¡¯d tell James about this later. [Shell Upgraded : Tooth regrowth - +1/month]. That better not hit wisdom teeth. And finally, [Shell Upgraded : Optics - Vision Range - +5 Degrees]. Anesh felt his worldview literally expand, and considered complaining that this wasn¡¯t the correct use of the word ¡®range¡¯. But it would come in handy, and the magic of the orb already had him comfortable with his new way of seeing the world. ¡°Oh man, I love these things!¡± El said. ¡°I only ever got two when I visited. Are you sure I can just have em?¡± ¡°You gave me a map spell, so it seems fair.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Also, every edge counts in times like this.¡± El just grinned, and followed his example, slamming her hands together and breaking all five at once. [Shell Upgraded : Memory - Long Term - Fact Retention - +1.2 Months / Memorization Minute] [Shell Upgraded : Safe Dose - Chlorine - +11 Oz] [Shell Upgraded : Skin Durability - Tensile Strength - +114 PSI] [Shell Upgraded : -1 Deja Vu/Year] [Shell Upgraded : +1 Heart] ¡°Ahhhhhh!¡± El shouted, clutching her chest where a second panicked hammering had suddenly, abruptly, begun. ¡°What! No!¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± James asked, rushing over to her side, even as the question was echoed by El¡¯s mom standing in the door of her home. ¡°My heart! Hearts!¡± El stammered, breathing heavily. ¡°Humans can¡¯t have two hearts! That¡¯ll kill me!¡± She looked up at James with a wild fear in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to die!¡± The words came out as a squeak, and while James knew most people would just find her to be overly dramatic, he totally got the feeling she had. ¡°Relax.¡± He instructed her, as calm as possible. ¡°Take a deep breath. The orbs aren¡¯t *allowed* to hurt you, even if they sometimes seem inconvenient. Breathe.¡± He lay a hand on her back, keeping her steady. ¡°There ya go. Keep breathing. Feel your heartbeat. It¡¯s steady, yeah? And you¡¯re doing okay. You¡¯ll be fine.¡± El took a dozen more breaths, getting used to the sensation, before she pulled away from James and let go of her chest, steadying herself and looking down at her hands . She flexed her fingers, then her arms. ¡°What the hell¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°Why does this feel so *good*?¡± ¡°Because blood flow is super important for a lot of things, actually.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°And it sounds like your backup isn¡¯t a backup at all. More like your body just got rewired for double the pressure.¡± ¡°This is nuts.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I was thinking.¡± Alanna said, looking down at the orbs in her hand. ¡°You know, I have a few memories of these things now? But I *still* find that to be a big creepy factor.¡± She pointed at El, now prodding her skin over her ribcage. ¡°What if *I* get an extra heart?¡± ¡°You are already almost bulletproof, heat resistant, and I think also can control friction, among a dozen other things.¡± James reminded her. Alanna gave him a sheepish grin. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± She said, and cracked her own orbs. [Shell Upgraded : Maximum Grip Strength - +66 PSI] [Shell Upgraded : Taste Receptors - Fruit - +19,800] [Shell Upgraded : Lung Capacity - +2 Liters] [Shell Upgraded : Wound Healing Time - Flesh / Muscle - -15%] [Shell Upgraded : Energy Conversion - Kinetic to Caloric - Maximum 22,000 Joules / Day] ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but I think that at least one of those makes me both more bulletproof, and more likely to gain weight.¡± Alanna stared at the air in front of her as she processed the mental pings. James and Anesh both looked at her, then at each other. ¡°Well¡­¡± Anesh said cautiously, before James picked up the sentence, ¡°You look like you haven¡¯t been eating right, so *good*. We need to get you some real food when we get back.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡± Alanna muttered. And then, there wasn¡¯t any more time. The fires in the distance were spreading, the sounds of conflict getting louder and closer. They needed to move, now. The guns were loaded, the armor they had strapped on. Camille found a piece of old rebar in the garage to use as a temporary substitute for the supermaterial mace she¡¯d been swinging at Anesh earlier. El had cleared the road, and the five of them split into two cars to maximize their chances of getting through. ¡°I¡¯m coming with you.¡± Jeanne said, standing on the porch and watching James triple check his precious handgun. He just stared back at her, then up at the window of the house that Ava was sleeping in. Slowly, he shook his head, and thankfully, Jeanne didn¡¯t argue. Camille rode shotgun with El, the young woman¡¯s modified cherry red convertible looking woefully unprepared for battle. James hopped into the front seat of the stupid bright yellow Hummer, annoying probably the tankiest vehicle they had on offer. Anesh sat in the back seat, settling in, closing his eyes, and pushing every ounce of speed he had through the connection to James. Alanna joined them in the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°This is way nicer than my last two cars.¡± She commented. ¡°Leather seats. Air conditioning! Oh thank fuck.¡± Unable to stifle a grin, James looked over at his partner, and shared a smile with her. There was just one last thing to say, before their newest foray into idiotic heroics. ¡°You asked who you were. Earlier.¡± James spoke. ¡°I think you already know. I think every important part of you is still there. And I say that as someone that has literally *been* you. You¡¯re brave without thinking, kind without question, and never afraid to be goofy or let your guard down.¡± Alanna looked at him, then snapped her gaze back out the window, blinking away something from her eyes. James had one last thing to say, though. ¡°You¡¯re exactly who you¡¯ve always been.¡± He told her. ¡°You¡¯re one of us. Us, the people who answered, when someone asked for help. Right?¡± He held out a hand, and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, Alanna clapped her own palm against his. ¡°Right.¡± She said. ¡°Great.¡± James closed his eyes, and pulled on the refreshed stockpile of asphalt manipulation charges. Around them, the road bubbled, rose into the air on tenuous tendrils, and roughly stabilized into an oblong shape hovering next to their vehicle. With a wordless command, Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel activated, and suddenly, James could feel every granule of stone in the mass he had taken command of, every edge and contour. The blob of asphalt steadied, locked itself in place just outside his window, and peeled back scintillating layers as it formed itself into a single vicious black needle. His velocity began to tick down. But he had, with everything at his command, complete control over this one chunk of matter. ¡°Okay.¡± James gave the word. ¡°Punch it.¡± Chapter 160 ¡°When one of us says, ¡°Look, there¡¯s nothing out there,¡± what we are really saying is, ¡°I cannot see.¡± - Terry Tempest Williams, Red : Passion and Patience in the Desert - _____ ¡°Too many turns.¡± Alanna growled as she took another corner at high speed, clipping a lamp post with the car and crumbling a chunk out of the side of the pylon. As it turned out, small towns didn¡¯t have a lot of long straightaways you could accelerate down, and it was even worse when the city was under attack. Not from the Last Line Of Defense, either. All around them, the wreckage of every car that had been in motion littered the sides of the streets. Asphalt grew from the roads and climbed the buildings like black vines, sometimes jerking suddenly to stab toward motion with wicked thorns. It tried that repeatedly against their cars, but Anesh was using his last charges of manipulate asphalt to shield them, and El just didn¡¯t fucking care, letting her car take hits in places that would have demolished a normal vehicle, but for her just healed over in seconds. The main cost was in momentum, but the assault stopped once whatever was in control realized it couldn¡¯t hurt them. El knew where they were going, and she led them toward one of the main roads that crossed the city. Aside from the wreckage around them, there was no sign of other people, alive or dead. Nothing attacked them but the road itself. They just moved as fast as possible, keeping James¡¯ velocity topped off as he slowly shaped the mass of asphalt he¡¯d ripped up from a wobbly ball into a real weapon. The place looked like a war zone. One a week after the fighting had happened. Nothing was even on fire, which put Alanna even more on edge as she kept her eyes peeled, drawing on the other part of Anesh¡¯s ability that James wasn¡¯t using to keep herself alert. Anesh just sat in the back seat, sluggish and bleary, waiting for them to need him more than his buffs. They were still doing about fifty, an irresponsible speed in streets like this, when the other car nearly blindsided them. It was as they blew through a red light at a weirdly angled intersection. El blinked as they plowed through, ignoring the traffic light on the street devoid of people anyway, and the next thing she knew, there was a scratched up white SUV alongside her car, almost bumping into her driver¡¯s side door. ¡°Shit!¡± She heard herself yelling, and could practically feel Alanna echoing the word as the trailing vehicle behind her wavered in the street. The other car wasn¡¯t trying to flag them down, it was intentionally matching speed, which meant they¡¯d *known where their cars were going to be*, which didn¡¯t point to anything good. El¡¯s worries were confirmed basically right away, as the windows on the other car rolled down, and a pair of wary men propped themselves up and levels guns at her, yelling something she couldn¡¯t hear over the engine. ¡°Is the entire fucking city in this fucking shit cult?! Cam!¡± El yelled, jerking her head at the people who were now shooting, leaving pockmarks on her rear window as they failed to understand how guns worked while driving. ¡°Get em!¡± Then, a second later, she added another command. ¡°Siri!¡± She yelled at her phone. ¡°Play Offspring¡¯s Bad Habit!¡± If she was going to die, she was going out to a decent soundtrack. ¡°Are we sparing these ones too?¡± Camille asked as she somehow seamlessly slid between the front seats to the cramped bench in the back of the car, *while wearing plate mail*, the thick slabs of metal not even brushing the seats, much less catching on anything. El didn¡¯t answer. She saw and heard as Alanna slammed the corner of her bumper into the other car, trying to execute a pit maneuver, but the enemy vehicle was still holding steady, and Alanna couldn¡¯t slow down to try it again or James would run out of velocity. Velocity. El gave a terrified, wild grin to herself. She had some of that too, and one thing specifically for being chased by hostile high speed assholes. ¡°An Engine Hums Eternal¡±. She muttered, and that invisible, thrumming power seeped out of her chest, and into the frame of the very nature of the car around her. Then they were going a hundred miles an hour, their speed doubled in a heartbeat, leaving the pursuit behind in a flash. If she¡¯d done it by pressing down the gas pedal, El would be dead as soon as the road took a moderately sharp curve in two seconds; but she¡¯d done it with magic, and it didn¡¯t just amp up her speed, but also gave her car the handling to manage it. ¡°Tell them to get clear.¡± Camille ordered El, voice perfectly audible without the other girl having to raise her voice at all. El called through the radio as fast as possible, and watched in her rear view as Alanna whipped her car over to the side of the road. She considered saying something about using turn signals, but didn¡¯t have the nerve right now, and didn¡¯t trust her voice not to break. People were *shooting at her*. *Again* Then Camille punched out the rear window that wasn¡¯t supposed to roll down - or be hit so hard it popped out of its frame, El grumbled silently - leaned her arm out, and flung her piece of rebar like a throwing axe, the metal bar¡¯s spinning perfectly centered. Alanna jerked the wheel again, pulling their car in a gut wrenching maneuver, as the thick piece of metal scythed through the SUV and punching about a half foot out the back door, bringing with it a spray of blood that left a thin trail down their side windows. The driver died instantly, at least one gunman had been hit as well, and the force of the impact combined with the sudden lack of control had the car veering to the right and down the embankment next to the road, slamming into a wet ditch with a screeching crash. Alanna had gotten them out of the way in time, but she wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d slowed too much. A quick check showed James still with his eyes closed in focus as he kept their big gun going, and Anesh in the back seat looking like he wanted to throw up. ¡°El!¡± Alanna yelled into the radio. ¡°We need a straightaway!¡± ¡°Road six is just ahead!¡± El¡¯s voice came back sounding a little queasy herself. ¡°You guys go right, get some speed, then u-turn. I¡¯ll scout. Over.¡± ¡°Now she bloody says it.¡± Anesh looked like he was fighting nausea with grim humor, slowly enunciating his words to avoid tripping over his own tongue. ¡°Got it.¡± Alanna said, holding the radio in clenched fingers with the hand still steadying the wheel. ¡°Scream if you need help.¡± The two cars stuck together just long enough for El to guide them to the turn, then peeled away from each other. Alanna pushed the pedal down, getting them up to a speed that could maintain James¡¯ mana supply, while still letting her weave around the irregular overturned or burning vehicles still on the road. El was mostly right; this one was just a straight line, cutting through the town. It had some hills and light curves, but even though she wasn¡¯t a car wizard, Alanna knew how to drive normally, and this was well within her abilities. She didn¡¯t know exactly how far she should go. But every second was giving James more time to work. And yet, also more time for whatever was going on to get even worse. The road out here, as they passed through one of those undeveloped spaces between chunks of houses and businesses, was still doing whatever it was doing closer to the city center. Maybe a little slower, but all the same, the black asphalt was spreading from the road out into the dirt and grass around it with a vile determination; the stone flowing like veins to climb trees and power poles, smothering plant life and generating more and more asphalt. It was obviously making more. There was no other explanation for where it all *came from*. There was just too much. Alanna was just getting to the good part of her self-doubt on when to turn the car around when the radio crackled to life again. This time, the voice that came through was steady and calm; Camille had over for this one. ¡°Eleanor asks you return to assist us.¡± She said simply, in that scratchy, yet composed, voice of hers. ¡°We have located the guardian.¡± Alanna was frowning as she pulled the car through a U-turn, constantly hoping James kept control of the increasingly dangerous spear he was building outside their car. She still didn¡¯t remember a lot, and she wasn¡¯t sure if this was the kind of thing that he was *good at*. Not in the way that she knew that Rufus was a good listener or Anesh was really good in bed. So she just had to trust that no matter what, James would pull through for them. Which felt so familiar, it burned in her chest. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound good.¡± Anesh finally spoke from the back seat, reacting to Camille¡¯s message. ¡°Sure doesn¡¯t.¡± Alanna agreed. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Always.¡± Anesh had closed his eyes again, taking deep breaths and steadying his nerves. ¡°This is what we do.¡± He took his time to say the words, the car moving them ten blocks by the time he finished. ¡°What¡¯s one more monster?¡± Alanna found the comment oddly soothing, and didn¡¯t even notice the smile making it to her lips as she gave it some more gas and pushed them back toward their goal, speed keeping their wizard supplied with power even as the wheels rumbled over debris and odd bumps in the road. Then they crested one of those gentle hills, and Alanna lost any sense of composure she had. Her eyes went wide as in the distance, her enhanced sight picked up the frame of El¡¯s car. And also the thing chasing it. It was a tanker truck. One of those big fuel tankers, a doubled up trailer of massive silver cylindrical tanks. The kind that were perfectly safe, but everyone was always nervous driving around anyway. This one was not perfectly safe. It didn¡¯t have wheels. Or if it did, Alanna couldn¡¯t see them. Instead, it writhed itself forward, arches of its body rising and slamming into the ground as it pulled its bulk forward. It didn¡¯t have two tanks, it had *eight*, all of them too flexible, too vaguely organic, to be a normal Earth-made cargo trailer. Jagged geometric scales of metal plating shone along its coils, catching the light of surviving street lamps and the overhead moon like they were amplifying the beams and not just reflecting them. Streamers of metal and rubber sprouted off it like coral growths, making what was already a massive, dangerous creation look even more ominous and unapproachable. Where there should have been a trucker¡¯s cab, there was instead a streamlined visage. Ten headlights in a ring around the outside blinking in sequence like rippling eyes, a snout with smokestack nostrils and exposed engine pistons along the forehead. It was fast. Alanna could tell that just by the fact that she could hear El¡¯s engine from here, and El was only barely keeping ahead of the dragon. She¡¯d decided, basically immediately, to think of it as a dragon. ¡°Jaaaaaames!¡± Alanna didn¡¯t take her foot off the gas, rushing forward to meet their end. But she did have a *little* bit of trepidation. Especially as the massive armored serpent paused to belch a gout of yellow-orange flame onto the road, only missing El¡¯s car by virtue of the girl accelerating so fast her car blurred in motion. Alanna caught sight of James sitting forward, shifting in his seat, one hand still held out the window over the spear. A spear in earnest now. She had no idea if it would be enough, and they really, really didn¡¯t have any other weapon options aside from ramming it with a car and praying. Trust. She chose to trust. She kept her foot down, and closed to engagement range with the guardian. Trust in James. Trust in everyone, including herself. Trust in that stupid chunk of road It was, by this point, no longer simply a convenient carrying package for material he could manipulate without interference. Instead, it was a true weapon, forged out of necessity and pressure. Every inch of the thing, James could *feel* through his road magic, like it was his own fingers shaping it. The asphalt had been compressed on the outside, a hard, intensely sharp shell that was designed to shatter on impact, but only after cutting through the first thing it hit. Shortly behind that was more compacted matter, in a splitting wedge. Contours and angles shaped into exactly what was needed to drive the weapon farther into the target. And then, the interior. James knew in the back of his head that if he were to try to examine this without the mystical enhancement he had right now, it would hurt his brain to try to comprehend. Hell, even examining with it active might not be possible; the spell was a one way street of creation, and nothing else. It was a nest, a spiraling mass of coils and springs. Built out of the worst possible material to do this with, James still had utter confidence it would work. Once the lance was embedded inside the target, once it had been hit with the correct amount of force, those stone springs and latches would trip, and propel one hundred and eight micro edged blades outward. They would accomplish relatively little. You could only store so much force in stone, and the blades wouldn¡¯t keep their edge for more than a half inch of cutting into something like steel. But that didn¡¯t matter, because they weren¡¯t fighting a modern military tank, where the exterior armor could soak a dozen hits from something like this. They were up against dungeon constructs, which, for all their weirdness, *had internal organs*. James opened his eyes. The eastern dragon reared back, thick cylindrical body arching coils, but carefully not overlapping itself too hard. It¡¯s face, the facade of a trucker¡¯s cab looking more like a mask it wore than its actual features, split apart as it opened a metallic maw. Six jagged mandibles extending outward to welcome the oncoming vehicle. James clenched his hands, feeling the velocity running out. He expended another charge of Manipulate Asphalt, keeping his mental grip on his lance just long enough to make use of it. Their car flashed past El¡¯s, no one even having time to glimpse the faces of the other vehicle¡¯s residents. The tanker dragon¡¯s maw began to glow, a baleful red-orange fire deep in its throat. Burning liquid dripped from the corners of its jaws in fiery streamers. The lance of unclaimed roadway James had been hauling this whole way, slowly developing, sharpening, and modifying with the combined ability of three different synergistic magics, shot so fast that everyone lost track of it. ¡°Get out of my way.¡± He whispered. The shot punched into the dragon¡¯s middle coil, just as James¡¯ velocity gave out. Slumping back into his seat with a sigh, he relinquished control of the asphalt and returned Anesh¡¯s speed at the same moment. His hand on the controls wasn¡¯t needed anymore; the damage was done. The missile carved a hole through the sheets of metal skin, punching through with a noise like a screaming machine. A split second later, the internal mechanisms ¡®detonated¡¯. No one would ever know, but only about a third of it worked; James was smart, had some engineering skills, and had literal magic guiding him, but he wasn¡¯t *that* good. Still, it was more than enough to propel those heavy shards of stone shrapnel into the internals of the creature. There wasn¡¯t even time for everyone to blink before the consequences of that strike made themselves known. Multiple different internal organs ruptured in the dragon, all of them carrying volatile substances. And the pseudo-organic sac of high octane gasoline spilled open, suddenly exposed to the source of fire the guardian was holding in its throat. The whole thing exploded in a deadly flash of white and orange, black smoke billowing out of the breach in great gouts. The shockwave hit so hard it shoved their cars backward and an inch off the ground; El¡¯s windows shattered like special effects glass while her own retreating bumper skewed wildly to the side. The windscreen of the vehicle James was in cratered inward as a flat, jagged piece of what used to be dragonskin slammed into the middle of it, bowing the whole piece of reinforced material inward. Then their tires caught on the road again. The engines screamed protest, the cars wobbled perilously, but the drivers kept it steady, and the group blew past the burning corpse, El pulling a dramatic U-turn over the center island of the road as her mystic fuel source slowly knitted the glass and tires of her car back together. The air around the blast site slapped into them like a physical thing. Smoke and ash, heat and *something else*. It stung eyes and skin like acid. But it didn¡¯t stop them as they covered the last handful of blocks to where they needed to be. All that was left now was the barricades, the rest of the forces arrayed against them, and one probably pretty annoyed cult leader. James¡¯ didn¡¯t really know if they had an answer to that. But at the very least, they had to give it a try. _____ ¡°I¡¯ve got em.¡± Chevoy spoke, and a rustling excited energy sprung into being within Pendragon¡¯s carrier pods. They were a half mile up, soaring over deserted streets and a creeping darkness that was slowly but surely killing streetlights below them. Pendragon¡¯s newly reinforced aluminum frame keeping them in a steady glide, only mildly enhanced by a collection of dungeontech that she¡¯d been gradually incorporating into herself. There were six people that Dave/Pendragon were carrying. Nate had claimed a seat early, and was their backup for if things got dangerous. Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight were there for any medical aid needed. Knife-In-Fangs had tagged along in case things got *really* dangerous, and the first batch of people weren¡¯t enough. Chevoy and Nikhail were here mostly because they were available on incredibly short notice, and they were both proficient drone riggers. Right now, they had twenty camera eyes spread out around the area, the signal amplifier built into Pendragon¡¯s frame letting them keep up fine control with their skulljacks. They had assembled, geared up, and teleported in two batches to an empty field roughly sixty miles away about four hours ago. It was still a little unsettling to Nate to watch Pendragon flatten her belly to the ground and peel back her flanks like they were car doors, but the insides of the artificial dragon that were designed for carrying people were clean, dry, and devoid of any kind of weird biological matter. So in they got. Pendragon was not large, and despite being a magically augmented aircraft, she also didn¡¯t have the ability to carry infinite weight. So with the exception of Nate - who insisted - the team was selected from who was available to be fairly light, and they kept their equipment from being too heavy as well. What was more frustrating was that the little pods they were in, held along Pendragon¡¯s sides, had about as much room as a seat in coach. Nate was pretty sure he had an indentation in his flesh in the pattern of the rifle he was wedged against. What she lacked in size or comfort, though, Pendragon made up for by being airborne, and *fast*. They¡¯d taken a bit to get up, but once at cruising altitude, the dragon could move when she wanted to. Not as fast as something with actual jet or even prop engines, but for a creature that was mostly organic, being able to clear fifty miles in under two hours was insane. And she was still keeping moving after that sprint, too. The instant they¡¯d entered the city, everyone had known something had gone wrong, too. It wasn¡¯t just that it felt like a dungeon. There was a kind of invisible pressure, a dire warning to steer clear, emanating from a line in the sand that they¡¯d crossed coming in. All of them on board immediently knew that they were trapped in here, whatever that meant. So they set about aerial recon, looking for any sign of James or Anesh. Pendragon/Dave took them in lazy circles over major areas while the techies deployed drones and the rest of them used what intel gathering dungeontech they had. And while Nate tried to take a nap. What they had found was signs of a fight. Or a war. Wrecked cars, crumbling buildings, a few small fires that were smothered out within minutes. No people, though. Not even bodies. The city looked like a scene out of a movie that couldn¡¯t afford extras. Normally, ¡®just follow the trail of destruction¡¯ would be an *excellent* way to find James. But it didn¡¯t really apply here. The entire city was like this; it wasn¡¯t confined to any one area. Every now and then they¡¯d see cars moving from overhead, but by the time they got eyes on them, they were already totaled and emptied out. And as indeflagable as Pendragon was, the dragon did need to land eventually. So when Chevoy spoke, it was to both relief, and a kind of pre-action electric thrill. It was *time*. Time to take a deep breath, and dive into the problem. ¡°Where are they?¡± Dave/Pendragon¡¯s voice echoed through the interior. ¡°How do you know it¡¯s them?¡± ¡°Your two o¡¯clock.¡± Chevoy replied. ¡°See the big road that¡¯s half lit, with the big plume of smoke coming up?¡± She paused for a second. ¡°Two cars just drove out of a fireball from something. So unless the town has turned into 90¡¯s Hollywood¡­¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯s them.¡± Deb¡¯s voice was assured as she leaned back into Pendragon¡¯s form. She¡¯d gotten a lot better at just rolling with stuff like this in the last year. The frame of the dragon shifted under them, inertia pulling the passengers around their seats. ¡°Spotted.¡± The blended voice came through again. ¡°Time to target, two minutes. Beginning descent in thirty.¡± ¡°Weapons check!¡± Nate called out to everyone. ¡°Braids in! Remember these are the new model! Pendragon will serve as our connection point, so Dave, back in the air as soon as we¡¯re out, but don¡¯t go far! Riggers, drop the drones! We¡¯ll retrieve ¡®em later!¡± A series of sounds and shifting motions answered him. Nate reached back to the back of his head and clicked the wifi adaptor into his skulljack, awkwardly pinging the connection and beginning to set up incoming video and audio. Humans and camracondas calling back with ready checks as they got in position. ¡°Remember! We¡¯re probably going into save *James*! So just because something looks weird, don¡¯t shoot first!¡± Nate reminded them. The laughs that came back twisted into yelps as Dave/Pendragon got in position overhead, and began dropping toward the ground. _____ There were two streets left between them and the garage they were aiming for, assuming El¡¯s mother had remembered the address properly. Which, if she wasn¡¯t exactly on spot, she was at least fairly close. In the right region of angry life forms and hostile roadway. The road had tried to spike their car twice more since plowing through the guardian. Quick reflexes by Anesh caught the first one, and the second actually got up through the footwell of the back seat before he noticed it and broke off that attack. In that split second, it had caused irreparable damage to the vehicle. But that didn¡¯t matter, they were almost there. Alanna gunned it, getting every last erg of power out of the engine now sputtering angrily from the damage to the machinery. She didn¡¯t dare try to pull maneuvers right now, instead just slamming through the front bumper of a crashed car that was laid across the road, and ramming aside an overturned motorcycle that still had its engine running. Behind them, El¡¯s car followed in the wake of clear road, the shattered windows already half-mended. Then they reached the last street separating them from their destination, and Alanna rolled the car to a stop. There were no streetlights on here, the surrounding businesses were dark, but the garage in question had a warm orange glow pouring out of its upper windows. It illuminated the street around it, and in that light, the road ahead of them took on a different feeling. It was a small side street, the kind that went through a city center and connected small patches of businesses for convenience, but no one ever really drove on unless they were going somewhere in particular, or really enjoyed a 20mph speed limit. Old dirt and trees that were planted a decade ago and then forgotten lined the sides of it. And unlike every other road around here, it was almost perfectly clear. No wrecked vehicles or scattered personal effects, no angry asphalt creeping out of line. Instead, all it had were dozens of small plate-sized objects, pale white bordering on dull yellow, sitting in stacks all across the road¡¯s length as it wrapped around the mechanic¡¯s hideout. Alanna had mentally connected them to land mines, and so, brought the car to a halt before running through them. Behind them, El slid her car into a similar stop, hopping out with Camille following in that impossibly elegant armored way. Alanna was already out too, Anesh following, before she realized that James might not be up for this at the moment. But James was also on his feet. He had his recently acquired pistol in hand, a stubby little revolver he¡¯d taken off one of the cult assailants earlier. Alanna also had another stolen gun, which she held proficiently, but without the confidence James seemed to have. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s suspicious.¡± He said glibly, raising his eyebrows at the field ahead of them. ¡°They¡¯re gears.¡± El said suddenly, voice too loud in the quiet night air. And it *was* quiet all of a sudden. No engine noise, no distant crashes or screams. Just them. And a soft organic humming coming from the building ahead. ¡°The piles of things. They¡¯re gears.¡± ¡°Not metal though.¡± James commented, metallurgy skill kicking in. ¡°They look¡­ off color?¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Okay, they¡¯re obviously traps. Form up, move slowly, let¡¯s¡­¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. He didn¡¯t get a chance to finish that sentence before the first pile started moving. The gears rattled first, then began to rise into the air. There were five in the stack, and they quickly took up a formation of one central one, with two smaller gears to the left and right, and two other smaller ones below. Then the asphalt below the formation began to flow. Streamers of dark stone pooling up, forming into claw shapes that linked themselves up to the movements of the gears. The outline, the *suggestion* of a humanoid form. The instant the asphalt started to cover the central gear, Anesh shot it. Realizing that whatever weak point it might have was going to be covered shortly, he slung his P90 forward and pulled the trigger from his hip, spraying bullets into the still-assembling form. His aim was a little wide, and he shredded one of the side gears first, causing a partially formed claw to drop back to the street and be reabsorbed, before he walked his fire across the central assembly and the entire thing collapsed. ¡°Hit the piles!¡± James yelled, as the other forty stacks of gears within eyesight started to tremble and shift. He didn¡¯t hesitate, snapping off all the bullets in his revolver into a group that was just starting to rise up, killing the core and leaving the rest of the bone gears to drop to the pavement and shatter. As his allies opened up on everything in sight, James reloaded with shaking hands, popping the chamber, dumping the spent casings, and pushing bullets into the cylinders in the first manual reload he¡¯d done in months. He got one shot off, before the first of the automatons finished forming and rushed him. James frantically ducked a claw, before a kick took him in the chest and he realized that these things *didn¡¯t need legs*. They were hovering street puppets! Why would they need legs? Alanna came to his rescue, punching the one on him from behind so hard it snapped the central gear in two and the whole thing collapsed before it could claw through his coat. But there were more and more of them closing in, and the rapid bursts that Anesh was laying down on the unshielded ones weren¡¯t enough. ¡°We will be overwhelmed shortly!¡± Camille shouted, letting claws rake over her armor while she dispatched two of the creations. She was breathing heavily, but it felt hard to believe that *she* was in danger of being overwhelmed. James should have trusted her though. Because a second later, more of the creations, these ones fully formed, rounded the corner. Then another pack, from the other direction. Then, stomping after the smaller, humanoid ones, came a creation that balanced on three spikes and held three hovering claws around its core, each the size of a small car. ¡°Shit!¡± James yelled, distracting Anesh who took a scything claw across his armored chest as he turned to look. The hard shell he was wearing took most of the damage, but it severed the strap of his rifle, and the impact caught his arm, jerking him sideways and sending his gun spiraling across the road. James caught his other arm and stabilized him, but the group was getting pushed closer together by the advancing mass of targets. The creations were relentless. They didn¡¯t move like dungeon life, they moved like fucking terminators. No hesitation or predator tactics, no concern for their allies, just advancing and swinging those rough claws at high speeds. James awkwardly yanked his sword from his belt and caught a strike, months of practice with JP and Anesh turning the parry into a riposte that cracked the small exposed arm gear and dropped the melting claw to the ground. His hands stung from the force of the impact, but the blade held against it. The air was quieter again, Alanna and El out of ammo all of a sudden, the cracks and booms of their pistol and shotgun having faded away. Camille continued to punish anything that dared try to hurt her, but she wasn¡¯t in position to cover the rest of them. ¡°We have to break through!¡± James yelled, giving ground with the rest of them, trying to keep from having to fight a new automaton every five seconds. He set his shield bracer to ¡®road¡¯, caught two hits intended for Alanna¡¯s skull, stabbed and missed at an exposed gear. Tried to keep his breathing even. ¡°We can¡¯t keep fighting here!¡± El turned her head to glance back at her car, and then nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll get-!¡° Whatever she was planning died with a scream as one of the creations slammed a claw into her flank, and another one stomping down onto her calf as she fell. Camille shouted something and slammed a plated kick through the core of that one creature, but three more stepped up to the plate to cover them. The big one hadn¡¯t even engaged them, just ominously interposing itself between their group and the garage. ¡°Anesh! Back!¡± James tried to yell, but found his voice hoarse and dry. He lashed out with a spike of intent, manipulate asphalt catching a strike midway to Anesh¡¯s head and starting to pull the claw apart, before he lost control of the claimed material. Anesh tilted his head sideways, a flash of anger showing on his face as he flared his own blue absorbed power, only he played it smarter than James did. Select, careful pressure to the asphalt around the core, and the central gear snapped, sending the remains of the creature dropping. ¡°Cam! Can you punch us through?¡± He yelled. But Camille was too busy to answer. The creatures had begun focusing on her, twenty of them stepping forward in military march precision to separate her and back her up against a wall on the other side of the block. She was cutting them down, but it was obvious now that she did *not* have an unlimited amount of strength. She looked like she was getting tired faster than the rest of them. It was, James realized, pretty damn optimistic of them to think they could make this work. A foolish assault against a prepared, entrenched enemy. ¡°We have to get out of here.¡± He muttered. They¡¯d been backed up to the hood of their ruined pilfered car, he and Alanna were fighting side by side. It was, he almost laughed, kind of exactly what he¡¯d wanted. Just, maybe, without the impending death. One of the automatons lunged, and James caught the middle of its claw with the blade of his sword. Before it could pressure him with the force of the blow, he panickedly triggered the perfect strike on his earring, the blade suddenly finding exactly the right position and force, shearing through the claw and bisecting the gear controlling it. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna make it.¡± His breathing was getting rough, real terror starting to set in. There were still twenty or thirty of the things left. And the big one. El was still alive, and they¡¯d covered her as she¡¯d gotten back behind them, but they were going to keep taking damage, and there wasn¡¯t, James thought, much they could do to turn this around. But they had to, because this was *it*. They either pulled something out of their ass, or the town got destroyed tomorrow. He just didn¡¯t have much left to pull. Which made it the perfect moment when Pendragon landed. The dragon smashed down into the middle of the pack of creatures that were shoving them back, and instantly, the dynamic of the fight shifted. It wasn¡¯t the most tactically sound place to land, *unless* the tactic that you were going for was buying breathing room for a team of idiots that had gotten in over their heads. Then, her wings thrown wide, the big girl¡¯s flanks opened up, and members of the Order spilled out, landing in unison on the road and engaging the creatures. Nate had told them not to fire just because something didn¡¯t look human. And they didn¡¯t, but they¡¯d seen enough of the skirmish on the way down. Nate shifted from target to target with the training of a practiced soldier, putting out three on target shots to each of them before realizing that the ¡®head¡¯ wasn¡¯t where these things needed to be hit. The unit silently sent mental updates to each other, aim shifted, and the area around Pendragon started to clear. Deb turned as soon as the fight did, and rushed El with a medical bag already half open. The two camracondas made use of their abilities to stop incoming strikes, opening up finishing blows. Knife-In-Fangs also had a modified set of camraconda arms, almost inflexible but capable of acting as a weapons platform for one of their favored rifles, and was picking off his own stationary targets, one of their gun bracelets worn as a necklace under his armor. The fight turned. The odds tipped. Then Pendragon braced herself and leapt back into the air, clearing the road and leaving an expanding crescent of space around the team as they chewed through the bone and stone creatures. ¡°James!¡± Ethan yelled, underhand lobbing a bundle of cables to him. James caught them with his free hand, shaking loose one of the braids and dropping the other two down to Anesh. Both of them plugged one in, and James was going to offer one to Alanna, but then, the larger creature started to move. They¡¯d been upgraded in terms of threat, clearly. *Incoming*. Nate sent over the relay. *More of them moving from the left. Ethan, Chevoy, take that side. Fall back from the big guy*. *We need to get through to the interior.* James fired off the message with a thought. *These things are moving like robots.* He didn¡¯t need to add that the target would be the assumed controller. *Big one¡¯s in the way* Chevoy sent. *Ideas?* James paused as he felt Anesh draw his own blade at his side. Then he felt more, as Anesh made a mental nudge toward him, the signal strong enough they could really connect, stronger than it should have been. He opened himself up, let his mind be vulnerable to this other person. And then, they were the same person. Afraid, but with a combined plan. *Give us a corridor*. James and Anesh sent. Anesh¡¯s body was exhausted, but as soon as he and James were unified, Endurance kicked in and gave it exactly what was needed to keep moving. Just a little more determination to push through, to make it to the end. James¡¯ suddenly felt his pool of Velocity refill, felt his body¡¯s vision sharpen, and also felt a tooth he hadn¡¯t realized had been knocked out of his mouth in the fight start to painfully regrow. In front of them, Nate and Ethan overlapped their fields of fire, letting the flanks advance as they tried to gun down anything that was directly between them and the giant walker that was stomping their way, leaving molten divots in the road as it did so. James/Anesh could see notifications coming in from everyone over the link of concern, that the giant creature was about two ponderous steps away from murder range, but they didn¡¯t back off. James and Anesh¡¯s bodies stabilized each other in a physical gesture for good luck, even as their minds plotted out their course of action, and started moving. The two of them broke into a sprint, rushing past Nate on either side, taking full advantage of James¡¯ shell upgrades applying to both bodies. The towering automaton rotated its center, one of its three claws descending on them at high speed. But the two of them flexed their collective blue power, one organic mind manipulating the asphalt just long enough to freeze it in place, the other one peeling back layers around the leg¡¯s gear like petals of a flower. Then they ducked underneath, triggered the Status Quo earring¡¯s power of a flawless strike twice, and let their blades meet the armored bone gear overhead from opposite sides. The cuts passed effortlessly through the material, and behind them, the two ton chunk of rock slammed into the ground with a liquid ripple as it began to melt. They swept forward, legs and arms burning, lungs on fire, but moving with a unified momentum, and repeated the process to one of the legs. The creatures might, James/Anesh realized, have needed legs more than expected after all, as the larger tripod started to topple wildly as it lost one of its support pillars. The arm claws flailing, shredding a nearby tree and smashing a roadside mailbox into a pancake, but not hitting anyone as it collapsed. Then they were at one of the garage¡¯s big metal shutters, past the horde, to their goal. *Go!* Nate sent. *We¡¯ll cover!* They ran along the side of the building to the back door, a metal security door with flaking paint and a rusting handle. Anesh¡¯s body pulled their one surviving thermite grenade out of his coat, and wedged it between the handle and the wall, before carefully pulling the pin and stepping back just a bit as the orange sparks started to eat through the metal. There was an arcane hiss as whatever trap was supposed to kill whoever tried to open the door burned. And then, the thermite tumbled to the ground along with the molten hunk of metal that used to be a handle. James/Anesh kicked the door open, and moved in, blades up. The inside of the garage caught both of them off guard. Through their combined minds, they compared and contrasted how they saw the place. Anesh saw a great machine, lines of mathematical engineering drawn out in reality through interlocking gears and engine components. The entire thing, he reasoned instantly, was a *tool*, designed to be used for something. James saw an altar, a religious site. The orange glow coming from the light sources around the expansive area were shaded and placed so that they *felt* like candlelight, while being nothing more than color tinted shop lamps. The machinery that had been dissected and reassembled to cover the walls and ceiling, to create a dome that felt like being under the hood of a monstrous vehicle, wasn¡¯t so much meant to *do* something as *feel* a certain way. Both of them were probably right, and their combined view shared that thought. On the far side of the bay, wearing oil stained overalls and carefully adjusting something with a carefully held screwdriver, was a man. He was balding, looked a little bit over fifty, and was shaking his head in mild annoyance, seemingly impervious to the gunfire still sounding outside. At James/Anesh¡¯s entry, he finished what he was working on and turned, revealing that what he¡¯d been working on was a frame in the shape of a human. It was sunk into the wires and pipes and pistons that coated the walls, and it was almost certainly meant for him. It was his height, and while James/Anesh couldn¡¯t see his exact dimensions, it just felt like there wasn¡¯t anyone else it could be for. On the opposite side of the mechanic¡¯s bay, just to their left, was a similar indentation. This one sized for someone much smaller, who James/Anesh were pretty sure they¡¯d already met. ¡°Made it past my army, eh?¡± The Mechanic spoke first. ¡°With *swords*? Now ain¡¯t that fuckin¡¯ insulting! I shoulda made em better! But, eh, it was a rush job, you know.¡± He flapped a hand, dismissing the topic with a spiteful look. ¡°So, what do you want?¡± The old man demanded of them. ¡°For you to stop.¡± James/Anesh let their bodies speak in unison. ¡°You need to unanchor the dungeon, or-¡° ¡°Ah, that fuckin¡¯ thing?¡± The Mechanic¡¯s voice was a rude, loud, and angry one. He made a sound like he was dragging something out of his throat, then spat to the side. ¡°Knew that whole club was a mistake. Bunch¡¯a parasites. Idiots couldn¡¯t even catch a single kid. What¡¯s the point?¡± He looked James up and down. ¡°You¡¯d probably make a good one, huh? Ya seem big on the whole hero angle.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the sword, right? It makes the look.¡± James/Anesh said. Well, mostly James, Anesh¡¯s mind was busy doing the mental equivalent of a facepalm as his partner¡¯s words flowed through them. ¡°But seriously.¡± They both said. ¡°Shut down your little army. There¡¯s still time to end this peacefully.¡± ¡°Nah there fucking ain¡¯t!¡± The mechanic yelled, spittle forming on the corner of his mouth as he flung his screwdriver to the side in a sudden outburst. ¡°It¡¯s never been fuckin peaceful! Don¡¯t you get it?! Everyone just wants to take from me! Take my work, take my magic, take my god! Well I¡¯m sick of it! I¡¯m sick of being stolen from!¡± The Mechanic leaned back and crossed his arms, and James/Anesh caught sight of a nametag on his chest. ¡®Bob¡¯, it read. ¡°To be clear,¡± The two boys spoke, ¡°we have no interest in taking away your magic. This is all very impressive, and if you¡¯re willing to share, that¡¯s fine, but you are getting people killed, and-¡° The Mechanic paced over to a workbench in the middle of the room. ¡°Ah, fuck em.¡± He cut the two off. ¡°Not like it matters, anyway.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± James/Anesh were both shocked, though in different ways, at the words. ¡°You heard me! Fuck em!¡± The Mechanic stuck a cigar between his lips and carefully lit the end with an old lighter. ¡°You already know, I bet! Fuckin cutting your way in here with *swords*. You¡¯re strong! Got the right blood, don¡¯t ya! You already know; everyone else is just gonna try to take that away from you. Always asking you to do favors, until you¡¯re worn down and weak like them! Well, I¡¯m not having it! If people die? So what! People die all the time! I¡¯ve survived everything life¡¯s thrown at me! I deserve a little reward!¡± He gazed reverently at the human-shaped cr¨¨ches he¡¯d built. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be a *god*.¡± He muttered. ¡°She told me so. I know it¡¯ll work, too. Just need the right materials.¡± James/Anesh conferred within their combined mind briefly. He was obviously trying to make them mad, trying to control the flow of conversation. It wasn¡¯t working. They clearly had the drop on him, and he was stalling, so there was something here that he needed them to not notice or do anything about. One of their bodies kept talking while the other one started scanning the room. ¡°Okay, putting aside how fucking psycopathic that sounds,¡± James/Anesh spoke calmly, trying not to set this guy off any more than he already was, ¡°Surviving everything so far is just the default state of being alive. Everyone alive has survived their whole life, that¡¯s what¡­ that¡¯s what being alive is? I¡¯m not sure why you think you should be rewarded for that. Rewards are for accomplishing something. Maybe you could, I dunno, build something that helps people? Be a hero, instead of someone trying to kill a whole city? People tend to like heroes more than murderers.¡± The Mechanic just laughed at them. ¡°Fucking heroes.¡± He spat again. ¡°You think you¡¯re so special? Cause you got ¡®morals¡¯ or some shit?! Hah! Making me laugh!¡± Outside, the gunfire continued in waves of sound. ¡°You¡¯re just letting everyone take advantage of you! Couple¡¯a obedient little bitches, eh?¡± Ah, it was simple. The one place the Mechanic was never looking, and that they *couldn¡¯t* look. There was a single spot on the ceiling. James¡¯ body drew his revolver, still loaded from the start of the fight, and emptied all but the last rounds into whatever gently humming machine was up there. Oil fountained down like black blood, small waterfalls of it pooling on the floor as the Mechanic screamed in fury at them. All of a sudden, all the vigor seemed to go out of the man. No longer was he a mildly balding mid fifties guy, but someone much older. Wrinkled skin and liver spots, sunken eyes, bony hands and gnarled knuckles, he looked like he¡¯d lived a hard life for the last ninety years. The shooting outside stopped. ¡°No!¡± The Mechanic tried to scream, but his voice tore halfway through. ¡°No, you¡¯ll let it escape! I have to, have to¡­¡± he scrambled on his bench for tools, staring up at the beating engine-heart that hung suspended from the ceiling, the no longer hidden centerpiece of the whole room. Around them, the world *eased*. The electric salt feeling of being in a dungeon faded, pulling back. But it didn¡¯t disappear entirely. ¡°Let it go.¡± James/Anesh said. ¡°Please. You¡¯re going to get yourself killed if you don¡¯t let it go. You can¡¯t keep anchoring the Horizon here.¡± ¡°You!¡± The Mechanic spun on them, eyes literally glowing with fury. ¡°You did this! Outsiders, coming in, ruining everything just like always! You¡¯re trying to steal from me, take all my power away, just like everyone else!¡± His hand scattered objects off the workbench as he stumbled, searching for something. ¡°I won¡¯t let you! I won¡¯t!¡± His voice was little more than a wheeze as he knocked a bucket of screws to the floor and lifted a sawn off shotgun off his bench in a trembling hand. He got halfway to lifting it toward Anesh¡¯s body when James broke the connection between them, and shot the Mechanic in the head. The body dropped lifelessly to the floor, whatever defenses he might have thought he had already gone, or never there in the first place. James let his arms drop to his side as the dungeon feeling abated instantly, the sensation of high speed traffic carrying the last remnants of the dungeon¡¯s forced claim on the outside world back to where it came from. The revolver clattered to the floor as his exhausted fingers let it drop, and he shook his head, partially to try to keep his tired eyes open, and partially in frustration. ¡°Just an angry old man. All this, because one guy was pissed at the world.¡± He muttered. Anesh set a cautious hand on his shoulder. ¡°You okay?¡± He asked. ¡°You kicked me out there.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t want you to¡­ you know.¡± James waved at the cooling corpse, blood pooling beneath it. ¡°Cause it sucks.¡± ¡°Self defense. Defense in general, really.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna say you ¡®had to do it¡¯ or anything trite like that, but he wasn¡¯t going to let it go any other way. And we both knew it.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± James sighed. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m okay. I¡¯ll be¡­¡± he took a shuddering breath. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine eventually.¡± He admitted quietly. Anesh hugged him, as Nate and Deb burst through the door behind them, guns up, ready for anything. ¡°Clear!¡± They each shouted in time as they swept the room, before Nate approached James. ¡°Alright. Now what?¡± He asked, uncertainty creeping in for the first time since he¡¯d landed. ¡°We still can¡¯t leave, unless you know something I don¡¯t, so what¡¯s our next move? More of¡­ this?¡± He waved a free hand at the religious composition of machinery around them, his other hand keeping his gun steady. ¡°Oh shit, I need to talk to Camille.¡± James said quietly, another tremor of fear going through his hands. ¡°Nate. Can you¡­¡± he made an ambiguous hand gesture, and the other man just looked at him until he elaborated. ¡°Get everyone ready?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Nate said. He blinked, and James saw Anesh and Deb react as the ping went out through their link. ¡°Done.¡± James stumbled outside through the rear door, the big metal shutters of the garage sealed shut from the inside with the various arcane constructions the Mechanic had been working on. There were piles of shattered bone gears and bullet casings littering the road, but the surface was smooth. All the pieces of the creations having melted back in seamlessly. El was laid out over on the sidewalk a block away, being watched over by Alanna. The other Order knights, human and camraconda, were watching a rough perimeter for any more problems. And Camille¡­ Camille was leaned against the rough brick wall of a bank, next to an ATM that hadn¡¯t made it through the fight intact. Her armor looked like it had seen better days, but was still intact, just beaten up. Dented, scratched, but not broken. A lot like her, too. There was a cut on her forehead, blood matting her short blonde hair into an ugly scab, and bruises across her face, but she was still awake and alive. ¡°Hey.¡± James said, sinking down opposite her, leaning up against a telephone pole. ¡°Greetings.¡± She nodded once at him. ¡°You did as you said.¡± ¡°Yeah, had some help.¡± He told her. ¡°Got lucky.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Your people acted on their own initiative to find and assist you. They were equipped and prepared for this situation. This is not luck.¡± Camille¡¯s eyes slid sideways to where Nate was taking up a sentry position near them, lit cigarette in his mouth. ¡°This is loyalty.¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± James conceded. ¡°Could be both.¡± ¡°Could be, indeed.¡± She almost, *almost*, smiled. ¡°We¡¯re probably alive because you helped.¡± James told her, switching subjects. ¡°We owe you, a lot. I saw you take a hit for Alanna back there. I don¡¯t¡­ I just owe you one.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Thanks for being with us.¡± ¡°You were correct, after all.¡± She told him, voice still unwavering, detached. ¡°And so, we are victorious.¡± ¡°We are.¡± James looked over at the injured, exhausted woman. She seemed so *tired*, beyond even himself. ¡°Come with us.¡± He said, suddenly. ¡°Again. But¡­ more. Join us. I haven¡¯t met your father figure, but I¡¯ve encountered others like him. It can¡¯t be a good life. And I saw you. I saw how much you want to be the hero. We can give you that. And an actual home.¡± Camille opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked at James like she was seeing him for the first time. ¡°I¡­¡± She paused. ¡°You don¡¯t need to decide now.¡± James told her. ¡°But we¡¯re going to try to leave soon. Assuming your dad drops the barrier.¡± ¡°He will already be gone.¡± Camille shook her head sadly. ¡°Nothing left to defend against. It is his way.¡± That truth was confirmed shortly, as Deb teleported out with an injured El in tow. James sat with Camille, both of them lightly dozing, but also watching the scene around them, as members of the Order began flowing in and out via telepad. They coordinated with Nate, who had gotten a bigger picture view from Anesh. Searching the area, and widening their net to begin scouring the city for survivors and holdouts. There were parts of Townton where the arbitrary ¡®claim¡¯ the dungeon was forced into hadn¡¯t taken hold, where property was never sold and there wasn¡¯t a foot in the door. Some of those had survived the night, others had been overrun by more of the bone and road automatons, or other creations of the Mechanic. And they were his creations; the knights found several sites in hidden garages through the city where hundreds, maybe thousands, of bodies had been taken. The dead processed into fused and carved bone, used to power the road warriors. They found how he¡¯d done it, too. Extensive notes, which were useless now without the anchor that bound the nearby dungeon. Those, along with large quantities of the Mechanic¡¯s tools, were ferried out to a secluded location that Research would use to pour over them and try to find anything of constructive value. All they left was the garage itself. ¡°What will you do with the machine?¡± Camille asked, startling James out of his nap. It was several hours later, the two of them having been left to their own devices after being declared medically stable, with the sun just beginning to lighten the sky. ¡°The one he planned to use to make himself a god?¡± ¡°Oh. Burn it down.¡± James said. ¡°Or something like that. No point to keeping it, since we don¡¯t¡­ you know¡­ use humans as raw materials.¡± He shrugged idly. ¡°You can¡¯t have it, by the way. I don¡¯t care if your dad could beat me up. No one should have something like that.¡± He turned his head, frowning at the building behind him still glowing with that inviting orange light. ¡°Yes.¡± Camille said. ¡°Yes¡­ you want it?¡± James tensed up. The armored girl shook her head. ¡°No, yes I will join you.¡± She said. ¡°I would like to, I think.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James sighed. Relaxed. Nearby, Nate noticed and calmly released his vigilant grip on his rifle. ¡°I¡¯m gonna nap. We¡¯ll get out of here with the exit crew, yeah?¡± ¡°I, too, would like to sleep.¡± She said. The two of them drifted off, leaning against uncomfortable structures. Six hours later, between aerial sweeps from Pendragon, and several long range red orbs Momo teleported in, the Order had verified that there were no further survivors in the city. Everyone they had found, they¡¯d teleported out, handed off to Recovery to begin the long process of managing temporary housing, contacting family, and putting destroyed lives back together. There was, nowhere, any news about Townton vanishing from the map. A smaller town in Canada had been consumed by a forest fire, and that had gotten more press. Just another side effect of the dungeon¡¯s antimeme at work. Jeanne and Ava had been found safe, along with El¡¯s mom Marjorie. They were all back at the Lair, getting special treatment beyond being put up in a hotel temporarily. No one knew exactly what to do with the cultists who¡¯d lived through the event. So they treated them like every other victim, but kept tabs on their number, to sort out later. There had been, at rough estimate, three to five thousand people in the city when James and Anesh had arrived. A large number of those had fled before the Last Line Of Defense cordoned off the city, *something* letting them know they had to get out of town. Personally, James thought the dungeon had done it, though he didn¡¯t know how. Of the remaining population, however large it was, they found three hundred and fifty one survivors. The butcher¡¯s bill was steep on this one. Though at least those people hadn¡¯t lost their record in the memory of their families and friends. The town was completely empty now, except for a curious population of opossums and raccoons. The last sophont life being three members of the Order who were acting as security, James and Anesh who insisted on being there until the end,, and Camille. Someone wrote the address of their home on the telepad. Anesh clapped a hand on James¡¯ shoulder, linking arms with Nate. James offered a hand to Camille, who took it. He raised an eyebrow at the feeling of a piece of paper pressing into his palm, and opened his mouth to say something, but then the page was torn and they teleported away. Five people arrived in the Lair¡¯s teleport landing platform, James¡¯ hand extended to empty air, Camille nowhere in sight. He looked down at the scrap of paper in his hand. ¡°You¡¯ve passed the test.¡± It read. ¡°Well *fuck*.¡± James muttered with a sigh. _____ ¡°Report.¡± The Last Line Of Defense did not look up from the sheaf of papers it was flipping through, sitting cross legged against a bullet-riddled boulder forty kilometers outside Kabul. Camille tilted her head in deference to her senior sister who was watching the road, waited to be acknowledged, then knelt and spoke. ¡°They are untrained, inexperienced, foolish, reckless, and naive.¡± She said in her uninterested tone. And then, with the slightest hint of a smile, added, ¡°And as you said. They did the right thing.¡± ¡°Their type almost always do.¡± The Last Line Of Defense nodded idly. ¡°But it is important to check.¡± ¡°They offered me a home.¡± Camille said, spontaneously. The information had not been asked for, she did not know why she offered it. The Last Line Of Defense didn¡¯t even look up. ¡°They do that, as well.¡± It said. ¡°It is, I believe, part of how they get as far as they do. Oh, do shield your ears, daughter.¡± It said suddenly. Overhead, a heavily armed US military drone expended a part of its payload. Three guided cluster munitions slammed into the empty ground nearby, turning a portion of the local hills into a thunderous inferno in an instant. Far away, commanders and technicians would see a successful strike on a ¡®terrorist training camp¡¯. Here and now, the Last Line Of Defense saw the death of a particularly aggressive dungeon. ¡°This part of the world is so much easier to work in.¡± It sighed in contentment as the job was completed to satisfaction. Rising to its feet, it folded the pages it carried and set them alight with a thought, more burning debris adding that already nearby. ¡°Our next incursion feels to be in London. Join me there in one week¡¯s time.¡± Then it paused, and with careful concern in its eyes, reached out and smoothed a hand along Camille¡¯s damaged armor. Scarred and dented metal healed instantly under its gentle hand, only the girl¡¯s bloodstains left behind to mark it. ¡°Much better. And congratulations, daughter, on your successful operation.¡± Then it was gone, leaving the two girls in the rocks. Camille raised a bare hand to feel the refreshed armor, wincing as doing so pulled at the mass of bruises that was her shoulder and left half of her face. She felt like sighing, suddenly, for some reason. But she held it in. Her sister was here, watching her as much as the road. ¡°London, then.¡± She said aloud. ¡°London, then.¡± Her sister echoed in an identical voice. ¡°I shall see you there.¡± Chapter 161 ¡°As in choosing to surround ourselves with the people who use their freedom to celebrate and encourage us to embrace our own; we may not get to choose who we¡¯re related to, or who we love. But we can always choose our family.¡± - Ian Martin, Buffy Episode Guide, Family - _____ James took a bite of his apple, the snap of the fruit as his teeth broke off a piece fresh and crisp, and sagged back into the beanbag chair. It was a warm day outside, a late summer heat wave baking everything in its path, but warded off by the Lair¡¯s air conditioning. There was a fundamental truth about the Order, and by association the Lair, that it was a sort of difficult to classify thing. Was the Order a professional delver organization, or were they a loose affiliation of survivors, or were they something else, either more or less? Similarly, when it came to the Lair itself, the vibe of the space often existed in multiple zones of thought at once. Was it, for example, a dedicated space for careful research? Testing and cataloguing artifacts and phenomena, trying to turn weird dungeon rewards into powerful tools? Or was it a home base, a place to rest and rearm between missions, where the people who spent the most time there were the ones doing paperwork? Or was it a clubhouse? Just a big building that they¡¯d inexplicably secured as a place for the various knights and aspirants to hang out while they waited for the world to get weirder? James was pretty sure it was all of those, and probably a few more, too. But it also left them in a really weird position sometimes, where in the back warehouse space among analyst desks and an armor printer, Nate was doing a preliminary debriefing with the rogues over the events in Townton, upstairs in a well appointed office Karen was making phone calls to various government bodies in the state of Tennessee that had no idea what was happening, and in the lobby, James was sprawled on a beanbag chair. He liked these beanbag chairs quite a lot. They were really soft fur padding, and whatever was used to stuff them was fine enough that it felt rather decadent to take the time to relax on one. The dissonance of beanbag chairs in the headquarters of a paramilitary paranormal knightly peacekeeping order was not lost on him, though. Around the lobby, humans and camracondas moved through the space comfortably. A few people moving around the Lair, a couple people relaxing like himself, a few people having quiet conversations, one of their interns doing some light cleaning. There was a fairly large group that kept coming through in ones and twos, checking out and making moves on some absurdly large scale wargame that was set up in the far corner. A people heading home, or coming in for the day, many of them members of Response. At one point, Bill had come through the door hauling about four hundred pounds of two-by-four, and everyone within eyeshot was suddenly in concerted motion, helping the man funnel several tons of wood from his truck into the basement, and making damn sure James didn¡¯t try to help as well. Which was fine, as far as he was concerned. As soon as he¡¯d landed back in the Lair, and he didn¡¯t *need* to keep going, whatever magic Endurance granted him had just peaced out to take its own nap, and James had practically collapsed. Over the next couple days of rest and medical examination, he got his full personal inventory of damage. Moderate muscle damage in his right leg, two broken fingers, four cracked ribs, a sprained ankle. A number of cuts and abrasions which, while they¡¯d begun clotting quickly, would still take a while to fully heal. Fairly bad blood loss, which was at least mostly taken care of by one of his purples. And, of course, bruising. Bruising across his chest, his arms, legs, shoulders, basically all of the right side of his hip was one massive bruise. And, of course, a lump on his head the size of a baseball. It turned out, it didn¡¯t matter how many superhuman feats of endurance he had stacked up. Getting in multiple car crashes and fighting through an army of necromantic constructs with a *sword* was grounds for injury. Anesh and Alanna had both gotten out cleaner in the ¡®hit points remaining¡¯ contest. But they also hadn¡¯t been in a car that was flipped over, so James wasn¡¯t prepared to concede anything yet. Instead, he leaned back, took the deepest breath he could before his lungs started to ache and his throat locked up from the pain, and enjoyed his relaxation time. Just laid back, enjoyed the sunlight filtered through the slim secure windows around the upper half of the front wall, and watched the people who had thrown in with him and his stupid ideas enjoy their time in this communal space. And then, he perked up, as a familiar voice made its way down the hall. ¡°...need anything else, alright?¡± Anesh¡¯s English accent, lighter now than it had been years ago when James had met him, was still smooth and stood out easily to his ears. ¡°Alright. Uh¡­ thank you. Really, thanks.¡± Alanna¡¯s own voice, a bit awkward, but still just as comforting as it had always been to James, came back. ¡°You sure you don¡¯t need help with anything?¡± The two of them came into view around the corner of the row of lockers against the wall of the common area, and James found himself smiling at the sight. And also the sight in the background of the hallway of Ava riding a camraconda down toward the cafeteria. ¡°Not a chance.¡± Anesh said. ¡°You got the holy hell beaten out of you. Go relax for a while. Get some food if you need it, whatever. Technically, I wasn¡¯t there, so I¡¯ll be fine.¡± James checked without being too obvious about his staring, and noticed that while Alanna still had a number of bandages on and her arm in a sling, Anesh looked like he¡¯d been in perfect health for his whole life. ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Alanna laughed, and it felt like the world shifted into being correct again. ¡°That¡¯s really unfair, you know!¡± She said as Anesh grinned at her. ¡°I hear that a lot.¡± Anesh looked like he was suddenly unsure of where to move his feet, and made a motion that was half stepping forward, half turning away. Alanna noticed, and without breaking her smile, slipped forward and gave Anesh a one armed hug. ¡°You¡¯re good.¡± She muttered to him. ¡°There¡¯s no rush now, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Anesh smiled, his whole body shifting in relief. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll see ya later.¡± He said, turning and heading to the stairwell door that led to¡­ James couldn¡¯t keep track of the basements. One of them, though. And then, Alanna looked around the room, spotted him, and the smile on her face quirked upward a bit again. She strode over, taking limping steps from damage to her knee; she was wearing shorts, and James could see the heavy bandage held in place with medical tape. ¡°This is woefully unprofessional.¡± She told him, towering over his makeshift bed. ¡°You¡¯re absolutely right.¡± James agreed. ¡°I should have a *throne*. Bring me more beanbags.¡± Alanna rolled her eyes and barked out an off guard laugh, before dragging another beanbag over and settling into it next to James, pushing the two pieces of plush seating together and wedging a manilla folder between them as she relaxed. ¡°See, the crazy thing is, I *know* you¡¯re in charge here.¡± She said to him. ¡°Whoever told you that lied.¡± James groaned, closing his eyes as he chewed more apple. ¡°Also, what¡¯s in the file?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Alanna glanced down. ¡°Oh, right. An Anesh¡­¡± ¡°You can just say Anesh. They¡¯re all the same.¡± ¡°That¡¯s gotta take getting used to, right?¡± James chuckled. ¡°You think that¡¯s bad? When he first started doing his whole clone production line thing, there¡¯d be two or three of him around in the same room, and they¡¯d alternate which sentences they spoke.¡± ¡°...I remember that, yeah.¡± Alanna said softly. James glanced over at her, giving her a worried look. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine.¡± She insisted. ¡°It¡¯s just weird. It¡¯s mostly back, but there¡¯s all these little things I¡¯m still getting connected. Oh, like, the file. Anesh gave me a list of things I could do.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ you can¡­¡± She made to swat at his arm, but stopped remembering how beat up they both were. ¡°No, you jackass.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice held an amused tone. ¡°Like, a list of all the purple orbs I have. As far as was written down.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James laughed awkwardly. ¡°Yes, that makes way more sense than what I thought. So, aside from that, how¡¯s it been? Are you doing okay? Settling back in alright?¡± ¡°I guess.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I remember us, a bit more. I¡­ fuck, I don¡¯t know how to even start with this. I remember loving you, and why, and I still *feel* that, but it also feels like¡­ like we¡¯ve got no momentum? Like I¡¯m missing all the little rituals and habits of being together with someone. Not that I actually know what that¡¯s like. Like, I *remember* a lot of it, but it¡¯s not *happening*. And¡­ okay, weird question, but was my relationship with you two the first one I¡¯d ever been in?¡± ¡°It sounds like you just need to reestablish emotional reflexes. Also¡­ ah, no! I can answer this!¡± James blinked, trying to pull up a memory. ¡°You briefly dated some guy named¡­ Scott? Back in school as a teenager.¡± ¡°Scott¡­ Ogden. Yeah. Yeah! That guy fucking sucked!¡± Alanna snapped her fingers as she put it together. ¡°God, compared to that, any relationship is probably pretty good, huh?¡± ¡°Yeah, but like, ours is better anyway, cause you and Anesh are in it, and I love you.¡± James let the vulnerable words slip out before he could stop himself, and abruptly hoped he hadn¡¯t pushed over a line he wasn¡¯t supposed to. ¡°I love you too.¡± Alanna said without thinking about it. And then, a second later, her face lit up crimson as she looked away. ¡°Oh!¡± She cleared her throat awkwardly. ¡°Welp! Guess that reflex is still there! Great, cool!¡± ¡°Shit, are you okay?¡± James asked quietly. ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± she took a breath, and looked back at him, seeing the concern in his eyes. Then, she tilted her head, and took a quick breath. ¡°Actually, yeah. I¡¯m good. I *am* good! That felt great! I¡¯m gonna say that again!¡± She paused, and James raised his eyebrows at her, twisting painfully in his seat to lean over. The moment stretched on as he waited, until Alanna suddenly said, ¡°Okay, I thought about it too much! Nevermind!¡± James couldn¡¯t hold in a relieved laugh. ¡°Okay, well, no rush.¡± He said. ¡°God, I can¡¯t believe I got hit in the head so hard it made me an awkward idiot again.¡± Alanna bemoaned. ¡°What, like, just now?¡± James quipped. She snorted. ¡°Nah, I mean, with the memory loss thing. Was that not head trauma? Nate filled me in on the whole Status Quo siege during my preliminary debrief. I don¡¯t remember the whole thing, but I do know I got taken out midway through.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James suddenly remembered something, and pointed at her with what remained of his apple snack. ¡°That¡¯s not head trauma!¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Yeah! Apparently, people have known about this for a *while* and Research only just got around to telling me! Abruptly breaking the hardware part of the skulljack connections to other people causes loss of access to long term memories! Normally it¡¯s not a problem, because you¡¯re right next to the person and the memories recover quickly. But when Anesh teleported back and left you, he didn¡¯t take the time to do it right, and so you woke up without memories, and no way to get them back.¡± He scowled lightly. ¡°Everyone just kind of assumed I knew this, so no one informed me directly, which is a *dangerous* way to think around here.¡± ¡°Wait, why didn¡¯t that Anesh remember then?¡± Alanna asked, confused. ¡°Uh¡­ that was the Anesh who died.¡± James muttered, trying to press away the pain in his chest that wasn¡¯t quite physical. ¡°Rapidly, upon return. So he might have had memory problems too, but¡­ well.¡± Alanna¡¯s face twisted into a sad and angry look for a moment before she composed herself. ¡°I¡¯m a lot more glad that they¡¯re all dead already.¡± She grumbled. ¡°I actually¡­ like Anesh, you know?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ve forgotten that the first memory you recovered of him was hot.¡± James reminded her with a grin. ¡°Oh my god shut up!¡± Alanna looked around for some kind of pillow or other soft object to smother James to death with. ¡°Changing the subject now! What¡¯s the whole Order been up to since I¡¯ve been struggling to survive Florida? Like, it¡¯s been *months*. Have we taken over the government yet? Ended all crime everywhere?¡± ¡°Not quite.¡± James¡¯ felt his cheeks start to ache from how much he was just casually smiling in his partner¡¯s presence. ¡°Oh! Through both dungeon magic and also basic research, I can now safely tell you that your plan to digitize human minds as a way to combat poverty would *not* work the way you wanted. It¡¯s also not really an effective way to deal with crime, since it turns out the overwhelming majority of ¡®crime¡¯, at least in this country, is wage theft. So we¡¯d be better off just destroying capitalism, as always.¡± ¡°Mmh. Okay, but, how will I get paid for my hard work?¡± Alanna asked, kidding. ¡°I feel like I should be given a million dollars for every time I save the world.¡± ¡°You joke, but this is actually a real problem in how people talk about things that we¡¯re trying to combat around here.¡± James sighed. ¡°Capitalism is different from ¡®the abstract concept of commerce¡¯, you know? I¡¯m not saying we get rid of money, just¡­ I dunno, honestly. I don¡¯t have a plan in place for this yet. It¡¯s half baked. But my point stands; no creating digital refugees! It doesn¡¯t solve anything!¡± Alanna rolled her eyes. ¡°Well, that shoots down an idea I¡¯d forgotten I¡¯d had. What about any new stuff?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I dunno what everyone else has brought you up to speed on. Have you talked to Sarah yet?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t. Though I *do* remember her. Like, a lot, actually. Where is she, anyway?¡± Alanna looked around the lobby, focus briefly settling on the scene of Deb taking a shellaxy for a walk before she shook her head. ¡°I feel like she¡¯s pretty much always been present, but she isn¡¯t around lately.¡± James shrugged, and winced. ¡°More or less.¡± He said, taking another small bite of his fruit, and realizing suddenly he was going to have to try to lob the apple core into a garbage can from ten feet away without getting up if he wanted to remain comfortable. ¡°She¡¯s in the Attic. Clutter Ascent. It¡¯s¡­ I mean, it¡¯s nice. It¡¯s a friendly place. I really like it there, and I think it likes us back. There¡¯s a group of Order members who live in the house around it as kind of caretakers, but Sarah¡¯s really the one who thrives there, and I think the dungeon feels the same way about her.¡± ¡°That¡¯s pretty cool. Does it still do the mental puzzle chests?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°I never got a chance to try one of those.¡± ¡°It does, and they¡¯re *super* relaxing actually.¡± James nodded. ¡°Want to head over there later, when my legs don¡¯t feel like jello and I actually want to stand up?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Alanna smiled. ¡°So, what else?¡± ¡°Well, we hired some new people. Uh¡­ found the kid of the woman who the camracondas worship. Started replacing the police. Cured cancer. Oh, we also-¡° ¡°No, no. Stop. Go back.¡± Alanna let out a long breath through her nose, pinching her eyes shut. ¡°You can¡¯t just say that.¡± ¡°Which part?¡± James smiled to himself. ¡°Let¡¯s start with curing cancer.¡± Alanna said. James chomped off the last piece of his apple. ¡°Okay,¡± he said around a mouthful of fruit, ¡°well, we found an orb that reduces cancer. And we¡¯re copying a lot of them. It¡¯s not actually nearly enough, but it¡­¡± There was a sudden pop of displaced air, as a small glass vial filled with some kind of yellow substance appeared and dropped to James¡¯ lap. ¡°What.¡± Alanna blinked, not sure she¡¯d seen that correctly. James looked down at the finished apple in his hand. ¡°Oh.¡± He shook his head, trying to focus his thoughts. ¡°Right. *Right*. Completely forgot about that!¡± He let out a relieved laugh as he tried to get over being so completely startled, before picking up the small container of saffron. Glancing around, he caught the attention of a camraconda that was moving in the right direction. ¡°Oh, hey, Frequency!¡± He called, and the young snake pivoted her body to correct her course toward him. ¡°Hello.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said as she approached. ¡°Welcome back. Both of you.¡± The camraconda bobbed her head in greeting. ¡°Thank you.¡± James smiled at the snake. ¡°Man, I just realized I haven¡¯t gotten a chance to talk to you in a while. Your English is getting a lot smoother.¡± ¡°I practice. Deb helps me.¡± Frequency sounded rather self satisfied, the various tricks the camracondas had to turn synthesized voices into appropriate tones and tenors. ¡°Do you need anything? I am going to help the kitchen.¡± So saying, the camraconda rippled the set of mechanical arms harnessed to her back, the gesture coming across as an almost organic looking display. ¡°You¡¯re getting good with those.¡± James smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad they made something like that for ya. I should give our basement team a raise. But also, if you¡¯re heading to the kitchen, can you drop this off?¡± He held out the spice vial. ¡°Absolutely!¡± The camraconda assured him. ¡°I take this, too.¡± She unfurled a pair of her manipulators, and gently plucked the manifested spice, and also the apple core, out of James¡¯ hands. ¡°Thank you! Please stay seated and do not nearly die again. It would make many of us very sad.¡± Frequencey-Of-Sunlight said, bobbing her head again, and turning to slither off. Alanna waited until the snake was around the corner before rolling slightly and saying to James, ¡°You know, I *remember* that I have camraconda friends, but it is still really weird actually talking to a non-human life form.¡± ¡°It¡¯s pretty weird being *guilt tripped* by a non-human life form, too!¡± James protested, crossing his arms and tipping his head back over the back of his beanbag. ¡°She¡¯s been practicing!¡± ¡°She¡¯s the one dating Deb, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± James confirmed. Alanna nodded, then held up a hand, making a gesture of trying to figure out what she wanted to say next. ¡°How do¡­ I mean, is¡­. I just¡­um¡­¡± ¡°For reasons that are way less fun than you¡¯d think, I can confirm that camracondas *can* have sex, yes.¡± James told her, not moving from his odd spot. ¡°...Maybe I wasn¡¯t gonna ask that!¡± Alanna¡¯s turn to protest. ¡°Maybe I was going to ask how you made something appear out of nowhere!¡± Rolling his head forward again and adjusting to sit up a little bit more, James smiled over at her. ¡°Suuuure. But also I can answer that too. I absorbed an orange orb a while back, and unlike Anesh, who got the power to clone himself, I got the power to spawn small amounts of saffron whenever I eat enough apples.¡± He snorted a small laugh, and shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ whatever. Kind of my own fault, I think? I should have planned more carefully. But also it¡¯s handy for the kitchen, and Nate¡¯s paella is delicious.¡± He found himself smiling again. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, until James added, ¡°I dunno, I just kinda feel good with¡­ I guess, just having a community that has that kind of stuff going on.¡± ¡°What, people dating?¡± ¡°I mean, yeah!¡± He laughed. ¡°We¡¯re¡­ alive. We¡¯re people. We aren¡¯t some creepy corporation trying to maximize efficiency or a military trying to homogenize everyone. We¡¯re us. Sometimes, that means our interpersonal drama is gonna cause some issues, and that¡¯s okay. And sometimes, being us means that we¡¯re dating camracondas.¡± ¡°Actually, that makes me think of something. Do camracondas date each other?¡± ¡°I¡­ haven¡¯t asked!¡± James realized, rubbing at his chin and realizing suddenly that he needed to shave. ¡°That¡¯s a good question. I should ask.¡± ¡°This place is so weird.¡± Alanna murmured, pressing herself deeper into the beanbag. ¡°Isn¡¯t it great?¡± ¡°Kinda, yeah.¡± She took a breath of the pleasantly cool air of the Lair¡¯s interior, and closed her eyes, snuggling back into her seat as she slowly continued to let go of the tension of the last several months. Finally, *finally*, she was somewhere that she didn¡¯t have to be aggressive or stealthy just to get through the day. She could, at long last, relax. And no one would try to hurt her. ¡°I like it.¡± Her voice was tinged with exhaustion. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. With a lingering look and a small smile, James watched her doze off. ¡°Enjoy your nap.¡± He spoke softly. ¡°Hell knows, you earned it.¡± ¡°M¡¯not asleep.¡± Alanna mumbled in her sleep, turning to curl herself up in the beanbag. James stifled his laugh so as not to wake her, and just lounged back, trying to find a new sitting position without having to put pressure on his broken fingers. The splint for those was still taking some getting used to. And he went back to experiencing the moment. Feeling the tired bruises slowly heal as he unwound and relaxed, and casually watching the people around the Lair. There were more people than he¡¯d really realized. ¡°Um¡­ excuse me?¡± A voice from the front door spoke. James looked over, seeing a middle aged man in a button up shirt. The guy had a classic businessperson style going on; neatly cut hair and slacks accenting his look. He had that classic attitude of someone who was used to being on top of the situation, and that equally classic attitude of someone who had just walked into the Lair for the first time. ¡°Uh.. am I in the right place?¡± He said, confusedly staring at a camraconda. James took a breath, and made to stand up and greet the guy, but someone else beat him to it. Ethan, walking by from the back briefing room, gave the guy a friendly wave. ¡°Yeah, you have to be. You can¡¯t get in here if you aren¡¯t scheduled.¡± He looked the man up and down. ¡°You¡¯re one of the lawyers?¡± ¡°Oh, yes.¡± The man stuck out his hand, ¡°Aaron McKinly. Estate specialist.¡± Ethan gave a weird teenager impression of knowing what a handshake was, and James tried not to laugh, while also promising to show him how to do that correctly later. ¡°Okay. Well, you¡¯re gonna want to talk to Karen. She¡¯s upstairs, just go back along the left, and take the elevator up. You can¡¯t miss it!¡± He called over his shoulder as he turned and half jogged back to whatever meeting Nate was running. ¡°Elevator?¡± The lawyer looked around at the various people going about their day like he was being pranked. ¡°This is¡­¡± A human emerged out of the stairs just past the lockers. ¡°It¡¯s a single floor building, we know.¡± Marcus said, shutting the door to the stairwell behind him and going over to the row of lockers. ¡°Are you one of the lawyers? I think Karen is upstairs. Just take the elevator up, you can¡¯t miss it.¡± ¡°I should have been filming this¡­¡± James whispered to himself, regretful. Being told twice was apparently enough for the lawyer, who shook off his confusion and walked past, giving a wide berth to the exasperated camraconda moving past dragging a folding chair. ¡°That was kind of perfect.¡± James said to the young man who¡¯d come up from the basement, which he realized must be the Response HQ. He was wearing one of the stylized pins that someone had been making for Response members on his coat shoulder, right next to a rainbow flag pin and another one that was some kind of fancy sun emblem. ¡°Have you been here long?¡± Marcus grabbed a small pill bottle out of his locker and pocketed it. ¡°A little while, yeah. Are you new here? Or¡­¡± He looked over James with a worried look. ¡°Someone who got teleported for medical? Uh¡­ is your face alright?¡± ¡°Face¡­ oh! Right. Chemical burns. They¡¯re not serious, it just looks bad.¡± With the realization that he was sitting atop a mistake identity comedy gold mine, James just gave the smallest, least painful shrug he could. ¡°I¡¯ve been here a while. Clearly I don¡¯t know everyone though.¡± Marcus laughed, and James decided he liked him already. ¡°Yeah, it takes some getting used to. I still don¡¯t know everyone. Course, I spend most of my time in a basement.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t sell yourself short. Research spends all their time in at least one basement, and they get recognized.¡± ¡°I keep meaning to ask what exactly they research, but I always forget.¡± Marcus stared off into the middle distance. ¡°It¡¯s probably teleporters.¡± He decided. ¡°Shockingly, no. They¡¯ve been banned from stupid telepad tests for a month.¡± James cracked a smile. Marcus gave him a polite, if slightly confused, smile. ¡°Yeah, well. The things work, so I guess that¡¯s good enough.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway. I need to get going. I¡¯ve been sleeping here for a few days, and I need to refill a prescription. Were you part of the big Response deployment? Something happened to a whole city. It was¡­¡± Marcus trailed off, both uncertain if he was oversharing, and also still clearly disturbed by what had happened. ¡°I wasn¡¯t even there, but god, the whole thing was¡­ bad.¡± ¡°Yeah, it was.¡± James agreed. ¡°I¡¯m just glad we have people who *can* react to it, you know? Without Response support, there¡¯s a lot of people who¡¯d be dead right now.¡± He hadn¡¯t heard much, yet, but he did know that of the survivors, many of them were people trapped under debris and rubble, or sealed into buildings by asphalt barriers. ¡°Yeah. Are you in Response? I haven¡¯t seen you around yet. Oh, I¡¯m Marcus by the way.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± ¡°James!¡± Momo inadvertently finished his sentence, crashing into the side of his beanbag in a power slide that left her sprawled on the floor next to him, and James slightly jostled but otherwise unmoved. From her shoulder, a harried looking Rufus scuttled up onto the beanbag and settled in on James¡¯ lap, like the world¡¯s most self assured cat. ¡°Ow.¡± James might not have been sent sprawling, but he had felt that hit in his bones. ¡°Momo, why. I¡¯m supposed to be resting.¡± ¡°You have never, once, after *any* fight, actually wanted to rest.¡± Momo countered. James glowered at her. ¡°I always *want* to rest, you¡­ you¡­ whatever you are!¡± He sputtered. ¡°But there¡¯s always stuff to do!¡± ¡°Well, you looked restful, and I figured I¡¯d give you something to do. Do you wanna help me try to make some life in the basement?¡± Momo looked altogether too excited. ¡°You come in here, wake Alanna up even though she¡¯s politely pretending you didn¡¯t, interrupt my pleasant conversation¡­¡± ¡°Shit, sorry Alanna!¡± The taller girl cracked an eye open. ¡°S¡¯okay.¡± She said, before closing it again and trying to ignore what was going on. Momo wasn¡¯t done. ¡°Also sorry Marcus! How¡¯s your shift going? Anything I need to know about?¡± ¡°No ma¡¯am.¡± Marcus said, in the kind of voice people used with authority figures. ¡°Nothing new, we¡¯re resuming normal operations later today. Harvey has a few things to talk to you about, but he said he already messaged you.¡± James looked back and forth between the two of them. ¡°Momo, are you¡­ in charge of things?¡± He asked, suspiciously. ¡°When did *that* happen?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not in charge of anything, I just lead a Response unit, and Harvey delegates a lot to me.¡± Momo said. ¡°That¡¯s the same¡­¡± James and Marcus started speaking at the same time, then made eye contact over Momo¡¯s sprawled form, and shook their heads at each other. This wasn¡¯t an argument they were going to win. James continued. ¡°Momo, go do your job. We¡¯ll talk later.¡± He looked away a little sheepishly. ¡°And also¡­ I am feeling better and already plan to attend the full debrief later. So, let me nap in the sun for a little while, alright?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Momo said, rolling to her feet. ¡°Rufus, you want a ride back downstairs?¡± She asked, but the stapler just waved her off. ¡°Alright, your loss. Keep up the good work!¡± She said to either of them, as she rushed off. ¡°That girl has been drinking too much of the special coffee.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Marcus looked like he had a question to ask, and James have him an open handed invitation to continue. ¡°How long have you been here? I didn¡¯t actually ask properly.¡± James held out his good hand, offering an introductory handshake. ¡°Hi.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m James. I started¡­ this.¡± He looked around the common area. ¡°I was expecting someone taller. And not on a beanbag chair?¡± Marcus was dealing with it pretty well. ¡°You¡¯re not a very dignified boss.¡± ¡°First of all!¡± James protested. ¡°I¡¯m not really a ¡®boss¡¯. I just kind of give people resources and nudges, and they do things without me. Also, I just fought a tanker truck dragon, a crazed necromancer, *and* saved hundreds of people from extermination by an indifferent demigod! I¡¯ve earned my beanbag!¡± He crossed his arms, causing a protesting tap from Rufus as the idle petting stopped. Marcus stared at him, crossing his own arms. ¡°How much of that did you just make up?¡± He asked, suspicious. James laughed. ¡°Good question. None of it. But still, good question. You fit in here pretty well, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yeah, I like it. I¡¯m doing something important.¡± Marcus said. ¡°It¡¯s nice, huh?¡± ¡°Better than the alternative.¡± Marcus agreed. ¡°I guess I just appreciate the chance. Also the people here are nicer than they should be, and it¡¯s weird, but also cool. Also *aliens exist and I can be friends with them* so *that¡¯s* happening!¡± James held up his injured hand in a ¡®hold on¡¯ motion. ¡°Okay, as great as it is to see people as excited as I am about all this, I think it¡¯s important to note that the camracondas or Rufus here or any of the other non-human life around here aren¡¯t actually aliens.¡± ¡°How do you figure?¡± ¡°They¡¯re *from here*. Maybe not the normal places, but still from Earth. They have the same claim on the world that we do. We¡¯re all¡­ citizens of the world, you know?¡± James looked over at the camraconda helping a human set up for the support group meeting later today. Looked down at Rufus, nestled in his lap. ¡°It¡¯s different, but it¡¯s not alien.¡± He reiterated. ¡°We¡¯re all in this together.¡± ¡°I like that.¡± Marcus shrugged. ¡°Also, shit, I guess of anyone, I should be more careful with language like that. My bad.¡± ¡°Eh. Just gotta keep improving, right?¡± James nodded at him. ¡°Also, don¡¯t let me keep you. You seemed like you were in a hurry earlier.¡± ¡°Yeah, gotta get to the pharmacy before it closes.¡± ¡°Just teleport there.¡± James suggested. There was a pause. ¡°Um¡­ that seems¡­ wait, that was an option?¡± ¡°Maybe? I teleport everywhere. But then, I think a lot of people just don¡¯t want to tell me I can¡¯t, and I may have special permission because two of my cars have died in the line of duty.¡± From his side, Alanna spoke up for the first time since pretending to go back to sleep. ¡°Your most recent car isn¡¯t dead, just upside down and in another state.¡± ¡°Oh well in *that case*...¡± Marcus chuckled. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll go ask Harvey. Anyway, nice meeting you, uh¡­ sir?¡± ¡°James.¡± ¡°Boss? Harvey calls you boss.¡± ¡°Harvey is breaking the rules.¡± ¡°Glorious leader?¡± Marcus asked, slipping into the stairwell. ¡°Oh my god leave!¡± James looked around for a pillow to throw, but came up short. After the door had clicked shut, Alanna rolled herself back over to stare up at James with smiling eyes. ¡°You like him.¡± She said, confidently. ¡°God, I can *feel* it. It¡¯s like a million little things I¡¯m remembering all at once, and every one of them is you being belligerent to authority figures. Did you once flip off a cop when we were in high school?¡± ¡°Technically I did it after we were out of high school too, but that time they¡¯d been shooting at me and it felt more justified.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Also yes, he¡¯s my style of person. Completely disrespectful of my position as supreme leader.¡± Alanna laughed, and the two of them lapsed into comfortable, companionable silence for a while. Both of them just enjoying being together again, and not having any pressure for a while. At some point, Anesh - the Anesh who had been injured alongside them - joined them, dragging over a pair of beanbags and making himself something closer to an actual bed that he could spread out on and lay behind their heads. He¡¯d brought Ganesh with him, and the drone and Rufus were soon scrambling around the pile of relaxing delvers, playing their own game while Anesh caught the others up. ¡°El¡¯s gonna be in the hospital for another day for observation.¡± He said as he sunk into the warm fur. ¡°Response thinks they got all the survivors out that were still alive. It¡¯s¡­ not good. But it could have been worse. We¡¯re gonna need to talk about some stuff in the next few days.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m going to the meeting tonight.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m not. Well, I mean, this me isn¡¯t. I¡¯m going home and going to bed and sleeping for another twelve hours. I¡¯ve been making that iced coffee you were using, and I¡¯m gonna give that a shot.¡± ¡°Was that a coffee pun?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Also, yeah, I want to go back to the apartment! I¡¯ve been either in the hospital, or here, since we got back. I want my¡­ normal¡­ bed.¡± She trailed off, suddenly nervous. ¡°Oh wait.¡± ¡°Yeah, we just have one really big bed that we, uh¡­ you know.¡± James gave her an awkward look. ¡°Do you *want* to come back? Like, I¡¯m gonna be honest here, I¡¯ll find it awkward until we¡¯re actually there, and then I¡¯ll be fine because things will get back to normal. But I want *you* to be comfortable.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know, it¡¯s cute.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°Seriously, though. I¡¯d say I remember about ninety percent of myself at this point? And most of it¡¯s the important stuff. Probably. So yes, I¡¯d love to go sleep with Anesh.¡± ¡°I¡¯m flattered.¡± Anesh put a hand to his chest. ¡°To be so highly thought of¡­¡± Alanna flushed a deep red. ¡°Wait, no! That¡¯s not what I meant!¡± She tried to backtrack. ¡°I mean, it *is*, and I¡¯m not trying to leave you out, or prioritize him, or, uh, but I¡­¡± It was too late, James was already cracking up laughing at the situation. ¡°Oh man,¡± he shook his head, ¡°you have no idea how not worried I am about whether you prefer sleeping with me or Anesh. Seriously, it¡¯s fine, chill.¡± He ruffled Alanna¡¯s hair. ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re back, and we can get back to normal at whatever speed you like. And since I¡¯m going to camraconda movie night, it *would* be you sleeping with Anesh.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be resting?¡± Anesh asked him. ¡°Explaining the Princess Bride to camracondas who have minimal exposure to Earth culture *is* restful.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lie at best.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said as she slithered by, carrying a stray backpack in her maw. Anesh perched himself over James, looking down into his boyfriend¡¯s eyes. ¡°Even the camracondas are aware of it, James.¡± He said. ¡°You need to sleeep.¡± ¡°I slept all day. My sleep schedule is so messed up.¡± James protested. ¡°I¡¯m going to movie night, and I¡¯m gonna eat baklava and talk about meta storytelling.¡± This is how I relax. ¡°How he relaxes sounds pretty good.¡± Alanna admitted, perching on her elbows and gazing up at Anesh. ¡°Maybe we should join him instead of going home and having sex?¡± Anesh sputtered. ¡°Wh... I mean¡­ we¡­¡± He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand on his neck. ¡°That wasn¡¯t *exactly* what I had¡­¡± Alanna darted forward and interrupted him with a kiss, drawing him down and bumping into James, who was watching the two with a wide smile on his face. After a few seconds, Alanna pulled back, and Anesh toppled sideways, off balance and panting a little. ¡°Hey, you were right.¡± Alanna said to James. ¡°Just doing it on reflex does help!¡± ¡°Did you remember anything important?¡± James asked her coyly. ¡°Or do you think you need to do that again?¡± ¡°Only time will tell.¡± Alanna replied sagely, curling back into her relaxed position that didn¡¯t pull at the bandages around her shoulder. ¡°You think Anesh is okay? He seems injured.¡± ¡°...My bones...¡± Anesh groaned out, flopped across the cushion next to James¡¯ head. ¡°Need any help?¡± An amused young man¡¯s voice asked. James looked over and followed his vision up from the pair of feet standing behind them to see Nikhail looking down at Anesh¡¯s prone form with something between humor and actual concern. ¡°I can do first aid, if you need it. Probably includes CPR, but it looks like Alanna has that covered.¡± ¡°Please kill me now.¡± Anesh muttered. ¡°I can take it.¡± ¡°Did you finally get a copy of an armory package?¡± James asked. ¡°I saw the note on the server that we expanded the options while I was on vacation.¡± Nikhail looked guilty. ¡°I actually still haven¡¯t. Reed says I have to before I¡¯m allowed to go back in the Office, but there¡¯s a wait list. So I¡¯ll probably just join the Akashic Sewer rotation instead.¡± ¡°That¡¯s *not better*.¡± James gaze sharpened. ¡°Now *I¡¯m* gonna tell you that you can¡¯t do a thing. I¡¯ll put in a word with our duplication wizard, and get you an orb set, okay? Though good job learning first aid stuff the normal way.¡± ¡°Oh, I did not do that.¡± Nikhail shook his head. Holding up his left arm, James saw it was wrapped in an oddly patterned green glove that reached midway up the forearm. ¡°The authority that bonded with me can do it. Figured it out when I was assigned to a Response team, actually. It¡¯s really cool, and Reed has a very, *very* long sales pitch to give you later when you¡¯re not injured.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re a healer.¡± James blinked. ¡°You can heal people with magic.¡± ¡°Nnnnno.¡± Nikhail¡¯s voice turned a little pedantic. ¡°Aidimy can do a few things involving first aid and stabilization. Or rather, produce the outcome of those actions. As long as I have the authority - see what I did there - to be operating in that role.¡± Alanna sat up, looking at the glove that Nikhail was wearing carefully. ¡°Wait what?¡± She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward. ¡°These are the things from Status Quo?¡± It was kind of a fundamental truth that a lot of the power the Order had to bring to bear was the kind they¡¯d earned through fighting. And the tools recovered from Status Quo were no exception. Except, they were, just a little bit. The shield bracers were something everyone was getting used to, especially as they cloned their own. But the authorities? The strange strain of infomorph was unsettling to be around, and they didn¡¯t know much about them except that they¡¯d been completely subservient to the Status Quo agents who had tried their best to kill everyone in this very building. The fact that the glove Nikhail was ¡®wearing¡¯ looked more than a little bit like a pattern of interlocking chains did not help James associate it with anything comfortable. ¡°This one isn¡¯t from Status Quo.¡± Nikhail rebutted. ¡°Aidimy was hatched here. And his focus is on rendering medical assistance.¡± ¡°So, the authority thing? We mostly called them that because it¡¯s what we overheard. Is that thematically linked?¡± James was curious now. Nikhail nodded excitedly. ¡°Yup!¡± He flexed his fingers, and the glove rippled around his arm. ¡°His strength appears related to both our institutional strength, and also how well I, personally, am filling my assigned role. It¡¯s a very¡­ well, I think it¡¯s interesting. Reed said you¡¯d have something to say about it.¡± He raised his eyebrows, looking at James expectantly. With a long suffering sigh, James flopped back and began to monologue. ¡°It does raise an interesting question about whether or not it was meant to be a kind of control mechanism, in the same way that the Road used the search engines to push people away. It creates a situation where obeying orders and failing to question mundane authority grants greater power to continue to do exactly that, reinforcing the organization and leading to more ¡®institutional strength¡¯. That¡¯s actually pretty worrying; it¡¯s a virtuous cycle, except without the actual virtue. Unless there¡¯s an independent decision by the organization as a whole to ¡®be good¡¯, which¡­ um¡­ they don¡¯t tend to do that.¡± ¡°We do that.¡± Alanna suggested. ¡°Well yeah, *we* do that. But we¡¯re a secret cabal of teleporting disaster response superheroes. We get a pass.¡± Anesh added. ¡°Oh wait, no¡­¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± James threw a hand over his head, landing it randomly on Anesh¡¯s shoulder in a friendly bit of contact. ¡°Yeah, we *don¡¯t* get a pass! Because our method of enforcing good behavior is *cultural*, not based on organized rules or laws. It¡¯s working *now*, and I think we can make it continue working, but just because we¡¯re doing something abnormal doesn¡¯t mean we don¡¯t have to be on the lookout for factors that incentivize bad behavior in groups like companies or governments.¡± He looked over at Nikhail¡¯s glove. ¡°And that might just be one of those things.¡± ¡°But¡­ I like him.¡± Nikhail protested quietly, anxiety in his voice. ¡°And it¡¯s not like I¡¯m doing anything *bad*. Either of us!¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a good point too.¡± James conceded smoothly. ¡°The fact that infomorphs, including authorities, can become people, is good grounds for not treating them like something as simplified as ¡®incentivizing factors¡¯. Also, a focus on healing, or just support actions in general, is a powerful method of making that virtuous cycle actually work in our favor. If we¡¯re known as the people that can magically seal wounds on site, we¡¯re suddenly going to get a lot more of the kind of positive attention we¡¯re gonna need in the coming years.¡± ¡°You should ask him if Aidimy can actually do that.¡± Anesh suggested. James nodded. ¡°Right. Hey, Nikhail, can¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah, sort of. Probably not as powerfully as you¡¯re thinking, but kind of.¡± ¡°Anyway. Closing thoughts, this is the closest we¡¯ve gotten to a healing potion, and I¡¯m on board.¡± James yelped suddenly as Rufus skittered across his chest in his ongoing game of tag with Ganesh. ¡°Also ow.¡± ¡°The magical car repairing gas doesn''t count?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°No, nevermind, I said it out loud and heard myself and now I get it.¡± Nikhail nodded excitedly. ¡°Alright, cool. So, if you could just repeat all of that to Reed? Because I¡¯m actually on my way to the Response deployment to Townton for my shift, and won¡¯t be around for a while. And it would be cool to have more authorities around.¡± ¡°Oh my god, get out of here before I revoke your permission to go outside.¡± James rolled his eyes ¡°That seems like it would actually hurt the authority, though.¡± Alanna suggested. ¡°Oh, hey, woah, that¡¯s actually a huge problem, isn¡¯t it? Like, doesn¡¯t that link someone¡¯s *job* to an actual life? I dunno if that¡¯s okay.¡± ¡°I wonder if we can safely test if we can move an authority bond to a new person?¡± Anesh mused Nikhail took a step away, hiding his arm behind his back. ¡°Test it with someone else.¡± He suggested firmly. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna cut your hand off. We just want to make sure this is something sustainable.¡± James sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t want to be your job for your whole life, do you?¡± ¡°My ¡®job¡¯ is trying to figure out what magic items do, and delivering emergency medical aid via teleportation.¡± Nik¡¯s voice was so sarcastic it almost triggered Anesh¡¯s venom immunity. ¡°I think I¡¯ll survive if I don¡¯t retire.¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± James pursed his lips as he nodded. ¡°Alright. Well, get to your shift. Thanks for giving me more work.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± Nikhail said, waving a hand wrapped in solid green light as he turned and headed down into the basement stairs, holding the door politely for the pair of Response members coming up on their break. ¡°I feel like this is gonna be another long term concern.¡± Anesh groaned a minute later. ¡°That¡¯s all we get these days.¡± James griped. ¡°Remember when we could just fight the bad guy and then be done with it?¡± The other two were silent for a while. Even Rufus and Ganesh stopped their playing to turn and stare at James. Eventually, Anesh cautiously cleared his throat. ¡°That has¡­ never once happened?¡± ¡°Oh yeah.¡± James smiled. ¡°Welp. Add it to the pile.¡± He said, closing his eyes again. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it after a nap.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been pretending you were gonna nap this whole time, but still haven¡¯t. People keep coming over to talk.¡± Alanna complained. ¡°I know, right? It¡¯s weirdly familiar, and I don¡¯t like it, but it¡¯s also comforting.¡± James twisted to look over at the far corner of the room. ¡°I just wish someone who¡¯s playing that board game would come by and explain what the rules are, because I am *super* interested.¡± ¡°You could just ask.¡± ¡°That¡¯s awkward!¡± ¡°You literally just fought a mass murderer to the death, and you¡¯re worried about being awkward over a board game.¡± Alanna said, the sentence morphing from a question to a statement as she spoke. ¡°No, wait, that checks out. I know *exactly* how you do stuff like this.¡± ¡°He¡¯s adorable when he isn¡¯t infuriating.¡± Anesh said. Alanna grinned. ¡°I remember you saying that! I remember *me* saying that!¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to die of embarrassment now.¡± James informed them. ¡°Inform my next of kin.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t die now. You have to go be a leader and decide what to do with the city we own now in about half an hour.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Also there¡¯s that movie thing later.¡± It irked James, but his boyfriend had a point. He decided to not die of embarrassment until at least tomorrow. There was just too much to do now to quit. The three of them actually had some quiet time then. The minutes ticking by in a casual afternoon of lazy relaxation and quiet shows of affection. A few people who passed by nodded to James, but no one else really interrupted. He¡¯d have to get up soon, he knew. Go talk about serious things, make actionable plans. But right now, he was here, home again, surrounded by magic and magical people, with the two people he loved more than anything in the world. A warm summer day wrapped around the building, and a bustle of activities both serious and silly taking place inside. He¡¯d been on vacation for almost two weeks, but a fairly large chunk of that time had been spent fighting for his life. And it was, ironically, only now that he was back home, that he really felt like he had the time and space to breathe, and just enjoy the feeling of time passing around him. Then his phone alarm beeped at him, and he groaned as he rolled gracelessly to the floor, and hauled himself upright. Perfect relaxing moment over. Time to get back to work. Chapter 162 ¡°It''s a port of call. Home away from home for diplomats, hustlers, entrepreneurs, and wanders. Humans and aliens, wrapped in two million five hundred thousand tons of spinning metal, all alone in the night.¡± - John Sheridan, Babylon 5 - _____ It was 2 PM in a rented skyscraper office floor. Around a smooth oval of a table, a group gathered to discuss important matters of strategy and operations. The general outline of the conversations was already known, but this was the first time since James had come back that they¡¯d made the time to all be in the same room together. It wasn¡¯t even everyone who would normally be at meetings like this. JP was still off, presumably spying on the Guild of Alchemists, but more likely just avoiding awkward contact with James. And Texture-Of-Barkdust was participating in search and rescue at Townton. Their seats were still filled, though. Nate taking over as representative of the intelligence branch of the Order, and Priestess-Under-Stone standing in for their usual camraconda liaison, full name chosen at last. Karen was also there, and, as far as James could prove, had been there for the last four hours carefully tapping her stack of printed notes on the table and waiting. Momo was present, but she¡¯d been lurking by the elevator so that she could come up with James and not have to face Karen alone. Apparently, there was still an amount of enmity between the mother and the girl who nearly got her daughter killed. Harvey and Knife-In-Fangs were there for Response, and Davis filling in for Research on the grounds that he was more interested in the long term than Reed was. The three of them were having a conversation about basketball when James entered, though it trailed off as he settled into his seat. Around Davis¡¯ shoulders, the organized ethereal form of Planner waited patiently. And then, Sarah, as the proxy for the broader base of the Order¡¯s membership. She was sitting next to a man that James hadn¡¯t actually met before. Cocoa skin and a smooth wide head, an appraising look on his face that flashed through concern as James entered, still damaged from his time on vacation and showing it plainly. Maybe in his late thirties. He had a sharp jacket hung over the back of his chair, and a professional shirt on that James figured looked better on the other man than it ever would on himself. It was a bit incorrect to say that everyone ¡°represented¡± their respective parts of the organization. They weren¡¯t official ranking members or anything, they were just the people with the knowledge and skills to have this conversation, and get the ball rolling on things. Or at least, that was what James liked to tell himself, so he didn¡¯t feel like he was actually responsible for large scale decision making. ¡°You¡¯re early!¡± Sarah said, thumping a loose fist into the tabletop. ¡°I thought for sure you¡¯d be running in late, having only remembered this was happening at the last second and rushing to get here. Possibly with toast in your mouth.¡± ¡°Do you think my life is an anime?¡± James gave her a concerned smile. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t answer that. Also, hi. I¡¯m James, nice to meet you.¡± He leaned over and offered a handshake to the man next to Sarah. ¡°Jake Redding.¡± The man¡¯s voice was warm and firm, but clearly all business, and his handshake matched. ¡°Legal counsel and civilian oversight. Which I guess is something secret societies need now.¡± ¡°You¡¯re taking this pretty well.¡± James said, nodding at him. ¡°Well, it¡¯s that or run screaming. And the elevator ride back down would be awkwardly long.¡± James grinned, and was about to keep the banter going, when Karen cleared her throat. ¡°Mr. Redding is a potential permanent hire for us, and has been cleared for everything but the most threatening knowledge.¡± She said, referring specifically to the skulljacks. ¡°He¡¯ll be working with us on the Townton situation, but I¡¯ve invited him to this meeting to give him time to acclimate.¡± ¡°What happened to the other lawyer?¡± James asked, shooting a look at Karen. She cocked her eyebrows. ¡°The other lawyer?¡± James gave a wide-eyed questioning gaze. ¡°The lawyer that came up here shortly before I did? The one who was doing legal consultation for us? This is a different lawyer. Do you have a thing that transforms people into other people?¡± He paused, his eyes shifting downward as he idly ran his thump across his fingertips. ¡°Actually, do you have a thing that does that? I wouldn¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°No, and also we have hired a small legal staff to work on contacting next of kin, managing estate transition, and other affairs. Mr. Redding is here specifically to assist *us*, which means knowing slightly more than just the fact that our one floor building has an elevator in it.¡± ¡°Gotchya.¡± James nodded. ¡°So. Do we want to start with Townton?¡± James asked, looking around. ¡°Or do we have other problems?¡± ¡°Several!¡± Knife-In-Fangs sounded all too cheerful about that. Nate cleared his throat. ¡°Yeah, we actually have a few things we need decisions on. But they should be quick, comparatively.¡± He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, and James realized that for the first time, he wasn¡¯t seeing Nate in a chef¡¯s jacket and stained apron, but instead a garishly colored Hawaiian shirt. He blinked, but shook it off as Nate started talking. ¡°First off, the issue with Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack.¡± ¡°God I hate that name.¡± Momo muttered, rolling her eyes from her seat next to James. ¡°Same.¡± He agreed, but then louder asked, ¡°This is the group that stormed the chemical plant, right? What do we know about them?¡± ¡°Pretty much nothing but the name.¡± Nate said, shaking his head. ¡°We have a rogue going over the immediate area, looking for any sign of where they came from or operate out of, but nothing so far. The refinery workers don¡¯t remember anything about that whole day, and a check against employee rosters show that no one¡¯s missing, except for the woman who was working with the Old Gun, so they didn¡¯t kill anyone. But that *does* mean they have a way to wipe memories.¡± ¡°Super.¡± James sighed. ¡°And aside from that, no idea what they were there for?¡± ¡°None. Though given the nature of the attack, it¡¯s likely they were after access to the dungeon.¡± Nate replied with a small shake of his head. ¡°We¡¯re prepping to test it ourselves, but they held that building for a while, so we¡¯ll need to be careful about any traps or surveillance left behind.¡± ¡°Great. Okay. So, what¡¯s the decision to be made about there?¡± James asked. ¡°It seems like the smartest thing is to stop prepping to go in, right? We don¡¯t *need* another dungeon, and the risk of coming up against people like us, but with bigger guns and less ethics, is one we don¡¯t want to run right now.¡± ¡°Continue watching.¡± Priestess-Under-Stone added. ¡°See if it is a hunting ground, for them.¡± ¡°What she said.¡± James nodded. ¡°It¡¯s possible they¡¯ve been there before, and may go back again. Keep someone in the area, and we might get lucky.¡± Karen raised an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t want more magic?¡± She asked, cynically. ¡°I don¡¯t believe it.¡± James snorted. ¡°I¡¯ve got enough magic, and several ways to get more. Having another resource like that would be valuable to us, but it isn¡¯t worth risking lives over. We¡¯re explorers first, and the rescue squad second. We aren¡¯t conquerors.¡± ¡°Could be excellent conquerors.¡± Knife-In-Fangs added. There was a pause around the table as everyone looked at the camraconda. Sarah leaned forward a bit, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows expectantly, until Knife-In-Fangs added, ¡°And that would be bad.¡± ¡°Okay, that aside.¡± James smothered a laugh. ¡°Does anyone have any other thoughts on that approach? Observe, gather intelligence if possible, but don¡¯t get into a proxy war over a dungeon entrance?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine with it, but I think at some point we¡¯re gonna find out that these guys are the kinds of people you¡¯ll probably want to get in a fight with.¡± Nate answered. Sarah propped her elbow on the table and stuck her chin in the palm of her hand, asking, ¡°Why do you think that?¡± ¡°Probably because he¡¯s met James before.¡± Harvey suggested, speaking up for the first time. He¡¯d been a bit distracted, reading a constantly updating list of in progress operations on his phone. ¡°Just a bad feeling.¡± Nate admitted, drawing another quiet pause before they moved on. ¡°Alright, what¡¯s next?¡± James asked. ¡°JP¡¯s girlfriend is planning to sell us out!¡± Sarah offered. James paused, made eye contact with his friend who was sporting a toothy grin, and then turned to Karen. ¡°Alright, what¡¯s next?¡± He asked her. ¡°Well, we could discuss hiring practices, we could get Davis and Planner to give us the update on the dungeontech construction methods Research has been working on, we could talk about the Mountain, Harvey has a general outline he wants to run by you and has been waiting very patiently, or perhaps you¡¯d be interested in knowing that JP¡¯s girlfriend is planning to sell us out?¡± ¡°God dammit.¡± James grumbled. ¡°I was afraid you¡¯d say that.¡± ¡°May I ask a question?¡± Redding raised a hand, tentatively. ¡°Shoot.¡± James nodded at him. ¡°So, I¡¯m up to speed on the fact that magic is real, and we are not alone in the universe.¡± He waved a hand, palm up, toward one of the two camracondas at the table. ¡°But what I don¡¯t understand is why you¡¯re worried about being revealed. Who do you think anyone could go to about you, that it would be a real problem?¡± ¡°JP¡¯s girlfriend is Agent Tiffany DeKay, and she works for the FBI.¡± Nate said flatly. ¡°She also isn¡¯t his girlfriend, they just think they¡¯re being funny.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Jake said, lowering his hand. ¡°No further questions at this time.¡± Momo crossed her arms. ¡°I still don¡¯t get why we ever agreed to let them in in the first place.¡± She said. ¡°It was *fine* when it was just Nate and he was pretending he *wasn¡¯t* a spy! But now it¡¯s all¡­ controlling and stuff.¡± Redding tried to move his chair slightly, discretely shifting away from Nate¡¯s spot at the table. ¡°I¡¯m not with them anymore.¡± The larger man dryly commented. ¡°The reason at the time was that the feds thought we would be a useful asset for responding to terrorist attacks, because we¡¯d just done the battle at the high school.¡± Karen answered. ¡°Should name these battles.¡± Knife-In-Fangs suggested. ¡°I have ideas.¡± He offered, just in case. ¡°We¡¯ll talk later.¡± Sarah smiled, and the camraconda nodded back. James waved their conversation down. ¡°Point is, it seemed like it might be a useful point of contact. And in a lot of ways, it has been. Because they know about us, we¡¯ve been able to take jobs from the FBI at our discretion, that gives us more exposure to the weird stuff, and also lets us¡­ um¡­ Nate, how would you phrase our billing plan?¡± ¡°Extortionate.¡± He answered. ¡°Cool. That.¡± James said. ¡°That, but to the government.¡± He sighed. ¡°But now they¡¯ve assigned us a liaison that¡¯s¡­ um¡­ a little more conservative than I¡¯m comfortable with? Is that how I should phrase this?¡± Karen met his gaze again, a hint of annoyance in her eyes. ¡°She believes us to be incompatible with ¡®American values¡¯, doesn¡¯t have a solid internal definition for that term, has recommended to her bosses that our operations be disrupted and our membership pressured into leaving, and is, in fact, literally spying on us.¡± ¡°She did help us find a magical lighthouse, to be fair.¡± Sarah pointed out. ¡°Randall never did that.¡± ¡°Randall died before he got to the part where he learned that I¡¯m an anarchist.¡± James reminded her. Jake raised his hand again, the man looking well out of his depth. ¡°Sorry, died?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes.¡± James said. ¡°Not because of us though. We¡­ you know what? There¡¯s a lot of history on that one. We¡¯ll talk after.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± He lowered his hand again, hiding his obvious concern. James sighed, trying not to seem frustrated. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what to do about this. Do we just tell the FBI we¡¯re disbanding, kick DeKay out, and then¡­ do nothing? It¡¯s not like they can find the building.¡± ¡°We do a lot of operations outside of this building.¡± Harvey reminded him. ¡°If they really want to, they can hurt us.¡± ¡°Okay. Suggestions?¡± ¡°Go public with Response.¡± Harvey instantly spoke up. ¡°Make it something they can¡¯t fight, without being the bad guys. Which they will anyway, but then¡­ well¡­ you can do your thing.¡± Momo threw herself onto the table. ¡°Noooooooo no no no!¡± She protested. ¡°James¡¯ thing involves a *lot* of collateral damage! We will all end up in jail or shot!¡± ¡°Or worse, for us.¡± Knife-In-Fangs added. ¡°Yes, exactly. No, we should settle this quietly.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°Look, I can basically rip secrets out of the air, and El can do something similar. Let us teleport into DeKay¡¯s boss¡¯s house, and just blackmail the shit out of him. It¡¯ll be so much cleaner, until we can get a better solution.¡± Nate gave the girl an appraising look, realizing he may not have appreciated her ruthless streak enough. Redding, meanwhile, raised his hand again. ¡°Should I leave the room? If we¡¯re discussing illegal activities?¡± ¡°Technically? In a lot of states, it¡¯s mostly legal to teleport into someone¡¯s bedroom and magically determine if they¡¯re having an affair, as long as you don¡¯t touch anything.¡± James said with a shrug. Everyone¡¯s heads slowly pivoted to look at him. ¡°What? I looked it up. It¡¯s the ¡®breaking¡¯ part of breaking and entering that¡¯s an issue! And if you don¡¯t touch anything, it¡¯s trespassing at most, which is only a misdemeanor. Wiretapping and survailence laws often only apply to specific technologies or actions, and I promise you, they do *not* cover magic.¡± ¡°We are not having this conversation.¡± Karen told him, turning to Momo. ¡°How do you know you¡¯ll be able to blackmail anyone effectively?¡± ¡°They work for the FBI.¡± Momo replied. ¡°As hilarious and probably accurate as that response is, Karen¡¯s right.¡± Nate interjected. ¡°We¡¯ll need a little more to go on than that. But I¡¯ll look into it. Talk to JP, get you a real, hopefully legal, plan within a week. What is the *actual* end goal?¡± He asked, looking around the table. ¡°Cut contact.¡± Sarah said. ¡°No more doing jobs for them. No more taking their money.¡± Harvey nodded in agreement. ¡°Non-interference would be preferable, but we¡¯re already starting to work with rights groups that they actively interfere with. Or at least, want to. Like them.¡± He pointed a scarred finger over at the new guy. ¡°Though we¡¯re probably going to be drawing more attention as time goes on. And they have no actual reason to keep their promises. It¡¯s historically been an issue. So I dunno what to add, or where I was going with this.¡± ¡°Okay. Cut contact, make ourselves into a non-issue. I¡¯ll get on it.¡± Nate stated, like it would just be that easy. ¡°Good enough for me.¡± James said. ¡°Who¡¯s next? Davis?¡± The older man jolted upright. ¡°Yes! Um¡­ we have some good news, and some bad news.¡± ¡°Did you hit my car with a spatial blender again?¡± James asked. ¡°No?¡± ¡°What?¡± The new guy¡¯s eyebrows were getting a workout today. Sarah patted him on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll fill you in later.¡± ¡°Carry on.¡± James waved a hand. Davis cleared his throat, reading something out of the corner of his eye that Planner showed to him. ¡°Yes. Okay, so, good news, we¡¯ve got three fairly basic orange totem patterns down *solid*. We can do Penrose hallways, folded doors, and best of all, a standard ¡®bigger on the inside¡¯ space. Uh¡­ folded doors are the thing where we can make the same door lead to different iterations of the room past it, depending on certain conditions, in case anyone didn¡¯t read the frankly irresponsibly long write up on this. Also, after a few false starts and nearly killing¡­ after a few false starts, we¡¯ve gotten positioning and connections down to the point that we can link them together to rapidly assemble large scale structures, if we¡¯ve got the right patterns to work with.¡± ¡°...this is the happiest day of my year.¡± James closed his eyes and let out a long breath. ¡°Okay. I assume there¡¯s bad news? Because you said so?¡± ¡°Yes. Plumbing and wiring are proving to be *major* challenges. Also, each totem has a finite amount of matter.¡± ¡°...As in¡­it can¡¯t go beyond a certain amount at once?¡± Harvey asked. ¡°Because that¡¯s not an issue. Delvers bring back new orbs every week.¡± Davis sucked in a nervous breath. ¡°As in, there¡¯s a finite amount it can copy, period. When we shut down an orb, it drags most of it back in, but removed samples stay real, and deduct from the limit. And they won¡¯t go back later. Basically, we can¡¯t use them as factories. Though we *can* get, say, a few thousand chairs out of one, and then just discard it. If we wanted to.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, chairs?¡± Redding and Sarah said at the same time, the young woman giving him a friendly grinning offer of a high five that went unnoticed for long enough that she awkwardly high fived herself and lowered her hand. ¡°Furniture in general. Chairs, lamps, whatever. Only works with commonly used materials, though. So far! Can¡¯t copy a silver chair.¡± Davis shrugged. ¡°Anyway. We expect that we¡¯ll be able to begin laying the foundation for the trial arcology by the end of the year. Though Bill has asked that I ask you to hire more people for the initial construction, so it can be as polished as possible, and-¡° ¡°Done.¡± James thunked a flat palm onto the table. ¡°Anything else you need? More money? More magic? Government officials strategically removed? I¡¯ll fuckin¡¯ do it!¡± ¡°Please stop saying things like that in front of me.¡± Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Also please stop promising money in front of *me*.¡± Karen added. ¡°We don¡¯t have that many resources, no matter how much you wish we did.¡± James threw his arms up. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out somehow!¡± He declared. ¡°We¡¯ve got five dungeons open to us now! An endless font of value! We¡¯ll figure it out!¡± ¡°Speaking of.¡± Karen directed a rather cold look toward Momo. ¡°If that¡¯s an affirmative decision on continuing the arcology work, I think we can move on to the Australian mountain, and the near death of my daughter?¡± Momo withered under the older woman¡¯s icy gaze. ¡°I said I was sorry!¡± She exclaimed in a voice that was suddenly a lot meeker than her normal belligerent tone. ¡°Oh yeah, that makes it all better.¡± James rolled his eyes. To be clear, he was on Momo¡¯s side here. Karen was being both needlessly hostile, and dramatically overprotective of her daughter. Elizebeth had gone with Momo¡¯s team to Australia because she had wanted to, both to interact with the few friends she¡¯d started to develop, and also just to have her own small adventure. The fact that she¡¯d ended up on a much more dangerous adventure had not been Momo¡¯s fault, and was, in fact, largely a product of Liz¡¯s own strange immunity to antimemetics. They *could* have been safer, could have been better prepared. But they hadn¡¯t expected the dungeon to actively *strike out*, and in the end, they had been prepared enough to get out without anyone dying. Which was often good enough, in this business. ¡°Apologies are important.¡± Priestess-Under-Stone agreed. ¡°How goes recovery?¡± Momo looked up from the surface of the table she had become fascinated with. ¡°Chevoy is going to be alright. She¡¯s only been here for a month or two, and she¡¯s already racking up as many concussions as James. Liz and Morgan both got out scraped up, but no serious injuries. Color-Of-Dawn¡­ well, you¡¯d know better than I would, actually. Do you guys ever regenerate lost ¡®flesh¡¯?¡± Momo asked. Priestess-Under-Stone looped her security camera head around in a camraconda version of a shrug. Unlike Knife-In-Fangs, she wasn¡¯t wearing the mechanical arms many camracondas had taken to, so she couldn¡¯t shrug directly. ¡°It depends, often. Starvation makes the process slow. Often lethal. But we do not starve here. Rest, time, will help heal. May never be fully the same, though.¡± ¡°Well, his damage wasn¡¯t to a vital organ, so he¡¯ll get away alright then.¡± Momo sighed. ¡°I managed to get to them in time to help, so everyone¡¯s going to be alright in time.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°I haven¡¯t actually had time to talk to you since getting back, except for when you were being a chaos goblin earlier. So, can you fill me in on what the dungeon *is*? And I apologize if this is a repeat for anyone here.¡± ¡°I¡¯m curious, personally.¡± Jake said. ¡°Dungeons are what you call holes in reality, right? As a game reference?¡± ¡°More or less, yeah.¡± James answered him. ¡°This one is a mountain?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°And a fuckin¡¯ angry mountain, at that.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°So, the problem is, we went in just hoping to *find* the place. And weren¡¯t really ready to actually *go in*, right? But the breach for this one *moves*, you guys! Chevoy said it was like ball lightning. Caught them totally off guard, and dropped them into the dungeon without warning. We bailed out of there afterward, so we haven¡¯t started tracking it yet, but it¡¯s possible that it can roam out up to about fifty miles from the base of the mountain. And also, it¡¯s possible the mountain isn¡¯t real.¡± ¡°Run that last one by me real quick?¡± James blinked in abrupt confusion. ¡°The mountain. I think it¡¯s a mirage. There¡¯s just no *mountain* there. Weird weather patterns, alarming missing persons rates, a whole lot of signs of a dungeon. But you can¡¯t just hide an entire fuckin¡¯ mountain like that. I¡¯ve had Liz check out some satallite photos, and she can see what¡¯s obviously a mountain. *But*, the place where it supposedly is? *People have been there*. And I don¡¯t mean, like, they *think* they were there but were actually somewhere nearby. There are vacation photos online that are geotagged to the middle of where that mountain supposedly is. I think it¡¯s one big mirage.¡± ¡°Okay, maybe I¡¯m just too old to grasp this, but why?¡± Davis asked the question no one else was willing to. ¡°Every other dungeon *hides*. Why¡¯s this one so¡­ not hiding?¡± ¡°Maybe some kind of side effect of its breach being mobile?¡± Sarah suggested. Karen hummed, momentarially setting aside her persistent cold angry at Momo. ¡°It¡¯s possible that this isn¡¯t intended at all. James, can dungeons become ill?¡± ¡°Do not ask me that like I have *any* way of knowing the answer.¡± James flatly shook his head. ¡°Maybe?¡± ¡°Can I¡­¡± The new guy cleared his throat, looking around for approval to contribute. James idly tapped the table. ¡°First thing you should know working with us, and may already have noticed, is that we welcome ideas and discussion. Please, go ahead, and don¡¯t worry in the future. Just dive in. Like, don¡¯t interrupt, but¡­ yeah. Go for it.¡± ¡°Okay. So, this mountain, it¡¯s in the middle of a part of Australia that¡¯s specifically a tourist town?¡± ¡°Not exactly.¡± Momo uttered a long ¡®uh¡¯, as she put her thoughts together. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a functioning city? But also, yeah, it¡¯s the kind of place that seems like it gets a lot of business from tourists. Campers, hikers, that sorta thing. Has a big art-town vibe to it, too.¡± ¡°Right, right. Can these dungeons think?¡± All at once, James, Sarah, Harvey, and Knife-In-Fangs echoed a single ¡°Yes.¡± Jake jolted a little at the varying levels of vehemence and venom in the different voices, and then leaned back in his chair with a nod. ¡°Okay, then it¡¯s a trap.¡± ¡°How do you figure?¡± Harvey asked, curious. ¡°It¡¯s so *obvious*. I mean, aside from the fact that we needed to have Planner in the room to even talk about it without forgetting about the whole thing. It¡¯s just a bad trap. Like putting a big warning sign over a bear trap.¡± James, though, tilted his head back to the ceiling and groaned. ¡°Oooooooh! I get it!¡± He ran his good hand through his hair. ¡°The kind of people out there would be *super curious* about the mountain that isn¡¯t on any map! They¡¯d probably love to check it out, at least a little. And the sporadic memory effect is gonna make it so they don¡¯t realize how long they¡¯ve spent walking toward it! And then, they get *too* close, and bam. In range of the breach.¡± ¡°So you think this one is actively hunting?¡± Momo asked. ¡°I mean, it was clearly going for injury or death right off. So I buy that. What do we do about it, though?¡± ¡°Or, more accurately, do we try to kill it?¡± Sarah put forth. There was a quiet pause as everyone thought about that. They hadn¡¯t, after all, tried to kill or seal off the Office, or even the Sewer. And both of those had proven to be very, *very* dangerous. But this was something with a much wider geographical range, that seemed to be actively luring in and killing more people than either of the other two put together. ¡°We need to know more, first.¡± James decided. ¡°Also, on that note, give us a picture of the inside. Or at least, what you saw.¡± Momo nodded, took a steadying breath, and started to explain. As soon as she¡¯d been dropped into the dungeon, it had been a struggle to stay alive. The entrance, which appeared to be at least a little consistent, was a waist deep bank of soft snow that almost instantly infiltrated every crack in Momo¡¯s outfit. Her outfit, which was neither armor, nor designed for weather worse than a mildly chilly afternoon. The closest thing she had to cold weather gear was a Status Quo glove. She walked everyone through the process of locating the trails of the others, moving away from the entrance. They¡¯d headed up the slope, because, as Momo bitterly stated, there was no *down* the slope. Behind her at the entrance point was a sheer cliff. A howling wall of white blocking any longer visibility past that line, though she occasionally caught glimpses of distant snowcaps and harsh peaks. There were a few trees in the area, which all had dozens of branches that were gnarled in ninety degree angles, and were completely bare of any greenery. Momo had avoided those, partially because the trails of the people she was after had too, but also because it was insanely suspicious. There were also a few rocky outcrops, one of which had a small area of snow cleared around one side where the group¡¯s path led. Momo told the assembled group that the reason would become obvious to her later, when she got caught out in a blast of frozen wind that had nearly taken her arm off with a spinning chunk of razor sharp ice. The outcrops weren¡¯t that secure, but they made great cover from spontaneous weather. The trail continued, and by this point, Momo had been able to see a flickering yellow-orange light a quarter mile up the slope. She¡¯d had to pass through a copse of trees, and here encountered signs of a fight. Blood, and splintered wood, and one tree that was missing half its branches. She¡¯d tried to hurry, but she¡¯d been trying to hurry this whole time, and the cold was, Momo reminded everyone, both instantly painful and very difficult to move through. When she made it up to where the other three had camped, she¡¯d found them in a fight with a patch of snow that looked like it had just lifted itself off the ground and made use of rocks and ice chunks for eyes and teeth. Color-Of-Dawn was down for the count at that point, and the younger kids were hiding behind Chevoy who had been trying to scare the thing away from their cave and fire with a burning branch. The engineer was *not* doing okay, and was bleeding from both arms as she tried to fend off the snow beast. Momo had punched it in the stone eye with her Status Quo glove, shattering the rock and killing the creature nearly instantly. Then she¡¯d joined the others around the burning corpse of some kind of sticking looking creature, applying what first aid she could, and desperately hoping her telepad dried out enough to actually write on before they all died of exposure. Or the three or four other snow beasts that were slowly circling their camp. Before that could happen, the other four had been offered the option to leave. They hadn¡¯t explained how at the time, but Momo urged them to take it. Later, she filled the conference room in, they¡¯d put together from the offered intrusive thought that it was a function of the dungeon. You just had to be at a fire or other camp when the timer ticked over, as near as they could tell. They had just gotten absurdly lucky. Momo had entered later than them, though, and her timer was separate. But she¡¯d sent them off, promised she¡¯d be fine, and then got really really lucky with drying out the telepad and blipping out before the pack of snow beasts closed in. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. As a reward for her unorthodox survival, she¡¯d gotten a message that was similar to what the others had, though a little angrier. [Cowardice. Deception. Ascension : 122 ft. Bestowal : +3 Breath Storage] The others hadn¡¯t gotten the ¡°deception¡± editorializing, though the rest of the statement was all the same. None of them had gotten anything to actually use Breath on, and Momo was quick to inform everyone that it *wasn¡¯t* just the ability to need less air for a while. It was as she was describing the texture of the feeling of having it that James made a realization. ¡°That sounds like Velocity.¡± He said suddenly, interrupting for the first time since she¡¯d started her story. ¡°Yeah. Yeah! You¡¯re describing a mana pool.¡± ¡°So¡­ what am I supposed to do with it?¡± Momo asked. ¡°Because I don¡¯t know if I wanna go back to the death mountain just to find out.¡± ¡°I mean, nothing. Though that said, we should get Anesh in there and see how it works with him.¡± James¡¯ brain was already whirring with possibilities. ¡°Maybe that¡¯ll be our next vacation. Assuming I can get some high quality cold weather gear. And a lot of thermite.¡± ¡°You know we super can.¡± Sarah rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve met Anesh.¡± Jake muttered to her, not wanting to interrupt. ¡°Why him?¡± ¡°Anesh doesn¡¯t have to breathe.¡± Sarah whispered back. Redding nodded. ¡°Of course.¡± He said, as if this was normal. ¡°So, vampire? Or¡­?¡± ¡°What?¡± Sarah blinked. ¡°Oh! No, just¡­ doesn¡¯t have to breathe, but normally.¡± Davis and Harvey sighed in unison. Nate just snorted at the exchange, adding ¡°You¡¯ll get used to this, eventually. Then we¡¯ll need to hire a new consultant for real world sanity checks.¡± ¡°Oof. No job security around here?¡± James shrugged. ¡°I mean, by that point, you¡¯ll probably be indispensable to at least one project. That¡¯s how it goes around here. Though *speaking of*, Harvey had some stuff about hiring, if we¡¯re ready to move on?¡± ¡°Wait, wait. What are we doing about the mountain?¡± Karen stopped him. ¡°Stay focused here.¡± ¡°I mean¡­ we fence it off, right?¡± James leaned back and thought for a second. ¡°Is that practical? We obviously want to explore it more, or at least *I* do. But we need to keep it from eating people. How much fence do you think we could drop down into the Australian wilderness without being noticed?¡± ¡°Twenty feet.¡± Nate said instantly. ¡°Maybe. I think you¡¯re seriously underestimating how much you won¡¯t get away with this. Small stuff is hard to spot on flyovers or from satellite, but as soon as you draw a circular line around an invisible mountain? You¡¯re painting a bullseye on it, and people will see it.¡± ¡°There was that weird grim monolith that showed up in the Utah desert that no one found for years. Maybe it would be like that? Also, wouldn¡¯t the presence of the mountain make it harder to do anything about?¡± Davis pointed out. Knife-In-Fangs hummed, a low vibrating tone from his natural voice. ¡°Did we investigate the grim monolith?¡± ¡°Nah, the grim monolith was a human thing.¡± Harvey gave a small frown. ¡°We assume. It was too recognizable as weird art to be a weird dungeon thing, I think.¡± ¡°Can we *please* stop saying ¡®grim monolith¡¯?¡± James asked, and was ignored. Nate rapped his knuckles on the table. ¡°Look, the point is, miles of fence is *too obvious*. You¡¯re not gonna keep people out, you¡¯re gonna get government officials and wildlife preservations showing up and asking you what the fuck you¡¯re doing. And then they¡¯ll get eaten by a mountain, and I hate that you¡¯ve turned me into someone that says shit like this.¡± ¡°How bout keeping someone in the area as a lookout? Warning people away?¡± Harvey suggested. ¡°We¡¯ve got more and more trained drone scouts available these days.¡± ¡°Requested hours exceed available hours.¡± Planner softly murmured into the air. Harvey gave the infomorph¡¯s manifestation a betrayed look, before turning back to James. ¡°We¡¯ve got drone scouts that can train more drone scouts to be available.¡± ¡°Alright, that seems like it can be a good plan going forward, until we can explore more.¡± James said tentatively. ¡°Any objections?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Karen stated flatly. ¡°Any objections that aren¡¯t just based on protective anger?¡± ¡°No.¡± She replied. ¡°But I am still angry. This one broke all the rules we were aware of. And it will continue to actively hunt people. Why shouldn¡¯t we try to starve it out?¡± The demand was harsh, but given that her daughter had nearly died in the dungeon, it wasn¡¯t completely unfair. ¡°We just might, eventually.¡± James told her. ¡°But we do need to explore first, to verify. And also, if it broke all the rules we knew about, then we *didn¡¯t know all the rules*, and this could be an opportunity to learn. Which is the only way we¡¯ll last for long if stuff like this is more common than we think.¡± He met her eyes, and after a moment, Karen gave him a single nod, before making a mark on the page she had in front of her. And just like that, the ball got rolling on rendering the dungeon safe. Well, safer. For people that didn¡¯t go in on purpose. James shook his head slightly, shaking off the temptation to go on a mental tangent. ¡°Okay. Harvey, hiring plan?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± The other man passed James a rather thick blue file folder, which James took and started flipping through, seeing resumes, notes, and personal profiles. ¡°So. Currently, we¡¯re operating with two bottlenecks to Response. One is the number of teams we can safely deploy, and one is the number of telepads available.¡± ¡°Is that seriously a problem already?¡± James raised an eyebrow. ¡°No, but it will be within a couple years.¡± Harvey told him. And suddenly, James realized just how long term the de facto leader of Response was thinking ahead. The grey in his hair started to make sense. ¡°So, to alleviate both problems early, we¡¯ve started identifying candidates that would make both good mundane Response team members, and potential delvers, to increase our access to more telepads.¡± Harvey stated. ¡°These are people, some of whom have applied previously, some of whom we¡¯ve scouted in a few ways. Social media trawling, personal recommendations, and dungeontech info gathering. A lot of them aren¡¯t going to be perfect fits for us. But that¡¯s never been a problem previously. *I* wasn¡¯t a perfect fit, neither were half our members. We have an established culture now, that can effectively absorb a large influx of members, without losing its identity, and we should take advantage of that.¡± ¡°This is a *lot* of people.¡± James muttered, flipping through the profiles. ¡°How many is ¡®a lot¡¯?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°I¡¯d like to start with twenty.¡± Harvey replied, drawing apprehensive breaths from a few others at the table. ¡°Moving up to eighty before the year is over.¡± ¡°I¡­ hm.¡± James suddenly felt a nervous tug in his chest. ¡°Okay, I¡­ see where you¡¯re coming from with this. But¡­ eighty people? I already feel bad that I don¡¯t know everyone in the building anymore. Can we even pay eighty people?¡± Priestess-Under-Stone hissed out loud, and drew James¡¯ attention before she started speaking. ¡°You do not know all of my species. But you helped us, regardless. Want to be helping all of your species. Do you expect to know them all?¡± ¡°And *don¡¯t* give an answer that hinges on immortality.¡± Sarah preemptively chastised him with a waving finger. James¡¯ frown softened a little. ¡°That is fair. This just seems like a big step. Can we even *afford* this?¡± He alternated looking between Karen and Planner. ¡°No.¡± Karen said simply. ¡°Not immediently. We are operating at a deficit, and that¡¯s only gotten worse this month with the influx of refugees to take care of. Now, a lot of those people are going to be on the path to recovery within the next month, so that cost will be going down. But we still don¡¯t have access to enough resources to have the financial power to hire that many people.¡± ¡°But.¡± Planner added, an angular limb shifting around Davis¡¯ shoulders to interject. ¡°Ourselves can account for increased operations. A number of ideas float toward the surface, projects near ready states. Money is acquirable. Especially when Relevant Space operations are expanded. There are materials to make use of, if we simply make use of them.¡± Karen nodded. ¡°Yes. Exactly. Precious metals alone are enough to balance our books, if we had perhaps one or two more experienced teams exploring Officium Mundi. But there¡¯s also opportunities to begin applying powers for civil engineering, which can be a very lucrative field with the proper access to contracts.¡± ¡°Do we¡­ have that access?¡± James asked. ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve been securing it, since it was made clear that we can do road work at an inhumanly rapid rate.¡± ¡°That¡¯s such a goddamn ominous sentence.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Okay. Okay! Twenty people, you think that¡¯ll be okay?¡± Karen nodded. Harvey shrugged, as if to indicate it would be an okay *start*. ¡°Part of me wants to be one of the ones contacting potential hires, but that might just be me panicking and hoping to hold on to control of something I don¡¯t need to.¡± He sighed. ¡°Alright. Do it.¡± ¡°To be fair, I could use the help.¡± Harvey told him. ¡°I¡¯m busy, a lot. I was gonna get Knife and Ann to do most of the work, since they¡¯re both off rotation for a week or so. ¡°Unneeded.¡± Knife-In-Fangs grumbled. ¡°Downtime is *critical* to long term mental health.¡± Harvey sniped back without missing a beat. He turned back to James. ¡°So, yeah, they¡¯d probably like the help.¡± James chuckled. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll start that process after the weekend.¡± He looked down at the notes Karen had given him at the start of the meeting. ¡°Next small thing is the Authorities? Okay. Anyone have a problem with these?¡± ¡°I have another question.¡± Jake propped his elbow up on the table to hold up a hand. ¡°Which authorities? Police?¡± James winced apologetically. ¡°Oh. Sorry, this gets unclear sometimes. Um¡­ when words are capitalized like that, it¡¯s usually a secondary use of the term to refer to a dungeon thing. Authorities are-¡± ¡°How in the hell do you keep speaking the capital letters? That¡¯s not¡­ I have never heard anyone do that.¡± ¡°-Okay, rude.¡± James recovered from being interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s a trick. Anyone can learn it. So. The Authorities are a form of infomorph like Planner here. Except instead of being based on a compulsive assignment, they¡¯re based on structured organizational authority. *As far as we know*. Nikhail recently bonded to one, and they¡¯re getting along fine.¡± ¡°I have a mild problem with them.¡± Momo chimed in. ¡°Because aren¡¯t we supposed to be an organization that doesn¡¯t have the kind of power structures an Authority would want to feed on? This seems like using them too much would warp how we act?¡± James nodded at her in acknowledgement. ¡°I actually had a conversation¡­ wait, weren¡¯t you *there* for this conversation? Oh, whatever. The point is, we don¡¯t know a lot, but we *do* know we can fight back if they try to take over. Though I don¡¯t think they actually could? And I, for one, am interested in how they¡¯d grow when planted in an organization like ours, where power is more fluid, and responsibility is more personal.¡± ¡°That kind of covers my main concern, too.¡± Davis shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ve been keeping an eye on their ¡®hive¡¯ in a safe containment spot. It looks like there¡¯s six or seven new Authority¡­ larva?... that might be ready to be taken up.¡± ¡°Members of my people, curious, wanting more active roles.¡± Priestess-Under-Stone tilted her head toward Davis. ¡°Perhaps a chance, here?¡± ¡°It should work, yeah.¡± Davis agreed quickly. ¡°There¡¯s no real inherent conflict, since they don¡¯t come from the dungeon that might subvert camracondas. I can make sure a couple of your people are on the list of volunteers.¡± Around him, Planner shifted as the informorph adjusted itself into an ethereal copy of that mentioned list. Karen made a displeased noise and frowned down at her notes. ¡°I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s a good idea to rig that list just to satisfy the desire to be a multi-species Order.¡± She said. ¡°We should do real testing, to see where the Authorities work best.¡± The words brought an unexpected wince out of James. He forgot, sometimes, that while Karen had adapted to them more than expected, she still maybe held some unexamined biases that came out of nowhere on occasion. ¡°Think of it like reparations.¡± He told her, and instantly regretted the word choice as Karen looked like she was going to argue. ¡°*We* didn¡¯t artificially create a species of puppet soldiers. We aren¡¯t the ones who should be fixing the problem. But we¡¯re here now, and we can do something, and the more camracondas are put in positions to interact with the world, and secure their own agency going forward, the healthier a society we can build.¡± She didn¡¯t look exactly convinced, but Karen was nothing if not aware of the fact that when James used that tone, he had a personal conviction that she probably wasn¡¯t going to change. Their new legal counsel chimed in as well. ¡°This isn¡¯t actually the same categorical thing as reparations, just so you know.¡± He told James. ¡°But you¡¯re not wrong on the fundamentals. Correcting a power imbalance isn¡¯t easy, but the sooner its done, historically speaking, the smoother it goes.¡± ¡°Also it¡¯s the right thing to do?¡± Momo still didn¡¯t actually *look* in Karen¡¯s direction, but she did speak up. ¡°Also! I actually *like* most of the camracondas!¡± Sarah added. ¡°I¡¯d trust them with that power.¡± ¡°You like everyone.¡± James reminded her, to which she just stuck her tongue out at him. The epitome of a professional. ¡°Alright. So. Authorities, go for it. Make sure there¡¯s at least some form of trust verification first, and *tell Reed not to do anything stupid with it*, but go ahead. Actually, do that this weekend, and let¡¯s move hiring to next week. Stabilize any problems that come out of this before we drop even more people into the chaos.¡± He sighed as a few people made notes and noises of acknowledgement. ¡°Alright. So. One last thing then. Who wants to go first?¡± The one last thing was that there was, perhaps, just a *small* amount of fallout from the events in Townton, Tennessee. Momo started them off. ¡°Okay. One big thing that¡¯s been worrying is if this is going to get us¡­ you know, shut down or anything. Like if any random government might take offense to the whole *thing*.¡± The young woman pursed her lips and ducked her head as a few people around the table gave her incredulous looks at the way she made it sound a lot less horrifying than it actually was. ¡°Right. Well. I¡¯ve been keeping tabs on things. Nameless is watching news feeds for anything, and I¡¯m checking in with Planner and Pathfinder fairly often. It looks like the geographic memeplex around the dungeon was still operational in the claimed areas when you killed the guy.¡± She shot a nod toward James. ¡°The dungeon pulled back, but from what I can tell of how things like maps and Wikipedia have been edited over the last couple days, the general consensus is that the city is just way smaller than it always was written down as.¡± Momo shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re in the clear, as far as anyone noticing. I think even DeKay didn¡¯t actually know anything happened, beyond James and Anesh going on vacation. Large scale forgetfulness, basically.¡± ¡°Oof.¡± James shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s gonna make it hard for the survivors to rebuild, assuming they want to.¡± ¡°Most of them do not.¡± Karen spoke in an informative tone, rattling off statistics like an automatic weapon. ¡°We brought back three hundred and fifty one survivors, not counting the people who are here in the Lair. Of those, roughly half owned property in Townton, and most of the rest are underage. Recovery has already begun contacting family where possible, and transporting the children affected when it makes sense to do so. We may need to either interface with state social services for at least twenty of the children who have no known family, or else make Order-esque arrangements.¡± James snorted a laugh at the sentence, and he noticed he wasn¡¯t the only one. Karen just rolled on though. ¡°Of the adults that owned property in the city, many of them are struggling against the antimemetic effect, and are treating this as a singular traumatic event that lost them their homes, and sometimes families. We have made counseling and therapy available, but despite the violent nature of the event, it would appear the memory loss is actually helping many of them move on quickly. As before, Recovery is assisting in finding family, and providing ¡®insurance payouts¡¯ where needed.¡± ¡°How¡¯s the money situation?¡± James asked. ¡°Can we afford that?¡± ¡°It is cutting into our savings. But it will not bankrupt us¡± Karen said honestly. ¡°I have secured us very affordable accommodations at a number of hotels, but I have also learned that you cannot get a bulk discount on therapists.¡± She paused, and it took James a minute to realize she¡¯d just made a *joke*. Undeterred by the lack of laughs, Karen continued on. ¡°The ones who want to go back to the city are being pressured against it by those who consider the whole place lost. And in my opinion, as well as that of our resident mental health experts, we should simply tell them that their homes are gone. Recover mementos for them, if possible, provide them the funds to move on, and not let them go back.¡± ¡°Homes made unsafe.¡± Knife-In-Fangs commented. ¡°Practical measure, to keep them away.¡± ¡°Exactly, thank you.¡± Karen tipped her head toward the camraconda. ¡°Fortunately, the fact that they¡¯re treating this a single traumatic event means that we¡¯ve seen a far, *far* lower rate of suicide than we did among¡­¡± The words caught in her throat, and she looked away for a second before turning back and continuing. ¡°Among survivors of long term imprisonment from Officium Mundi.¡± ¡°Sarah, you¡¯ve been talking to Lua lately, right?¡± Momo asked, awkwardly trying to slightly redirect the topic. Sarah gave an energetic nod. ¡°Yeah. Though she¡¯s still at the school, mostly. Connie is the one who¡¯s been our weird-things mental health expert for this. And Karen¡¯s right, sending people back is just going to lead to those people living somewhere they subconsciously associate with a *lot* of death.¡± Knife-In-Fangs chimed in again, adding, ¡°And very real threat of present death.¡± ¡°Sorry, what?¡± James blinked. Nate looked up from the laptop he was placing a kitchen shipment order on. ¡°Because of the bone things.¡± He said simply. ¡°Anesh said you called them road warriors, and I¡¯m okay with that. Good movie. Second best in the series.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll talk about Mad Max later.¡± James said, making a quick promise. ¡°First, though, those things are still there? I thought we killed them all.¡± ¡°We killed all the ones around where the Mechanic was.¡± Nate corrected. ¡°But he¡¯d made more, and they were actively making *more* out of the bodies of the civilians he killed. By the way, Karen, whoever in Recovery is managing burial services, put them in touch with me or Harvey, so we can streamline escorts.¡± He jerked a thumb toward the man sitting next to him, that nodded. ¡°Wait wait wait!¡± James whipped his arms up in a gesture of denial. ¡°You¡¯re telling me they¡¯re self replicating?! This is¡­ this is literally a potential end of the world!¡± ¡°Did no one tell you this?¡± Momo asked. ¡°It¡¯s bad, but it¡¯s mostly okay. They can only use bones that were from people killed on dungeon territory. It was in the Mechanic¡¯s notes. The problem is just that they¡¯re all active now, and roaming around. Technically, they¡¯re dungeon life. But even the ones that got near the entrance to the Road didn¡¯t leave. I don¡¯t think it wants them?¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s kind of fuzzy. Either way, it¡¯s a big problem for us.¡± ¡°As they aren¡¯t leaving the city, we¡¯re taking a break from operations to let our combat teams recover, before we start¡­¡± Harvey looked for the word he was trying to express. ¡°I guess extermination efforts. We really can¡¯t just let them all roam around trying to stab people.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, obviously.¡± James agreed. ¡°Davis? Can you get me a copy of the Mechanic¡¯s notes on this?¡± ¡°Absolutely-¡° ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°-not.¡± Davis finished, giving James a disapproving look. ¡°We have information security for a reason. If you want to read it, get approval, schedule a time, and come to the secure vault.¡± ¡°Approval from *whom*?!¡± James demanded. ¡°I am in charge here!¡± ¡°Despite protesting that fact constantly.¡± Sarah spoke to Jake out of the corner of her mouth. Priestess-Under-Stone gave him a quizzical look. ¡°Assumed Sarah was in charge.¡± She said, causing Sarah to sputter and make equally vehement denials. Davis ignored them, and instead answered James. ¡°Normally, yeah, approval from yourself. Though since you¡¯re one of the people who¡¯re on the list to grant approval, you need to get it from someone else on the list.¡± ¡°This seems pointlessly complex.¡± James told him. ¡°One man used the information in these papers to create self-replicating necromantic constructs, dungeon anchors, and a machine that steals bodies.¡± He reminded James. ¡°I will¡­ get permission from Reed.¡± James conceded. ¡°When you put it in context like that.. yeah, sorry. I¡¯ll get permission.¡± ¡°Now, there¡¯s two questions left to answer.¡± Karen brought them back to the topic at hand. ¡°The first is, what do we do with the prisoners from the cult?¡± ¡°Some of them, I wouldn¡¯t exactly rank as evil people.¡± James started with. ¡°A few of them thought they were really just helping the dungeon and not hurting anyone. *Though*, I concede that they *did* try to kidnap a twelve year old girl to do it, so they obviously aren¡¯t blameless.¡± Sarah chopped her hand through the air at him. ¡°If *you* ordered people to kidnap a kid, to save the world, do you not think anyone would do it?¡± ¡°I mean, not if I didn¡¯t give them a reason!¡± James argued. ¡°Also I don¡¯t think I¡¯d do that!¡± ¡°Probably why people listen to him.¡± Harvey muttered to Nate, who gave an agreeable snort. Then, out loud, added to the group, ¡°This is basically where the rubber meets the road for our - stop laughing, Momo, that wasn¡¯t a pun - for our interpretation of a legal system. Or rather, a *justice* system. Now, I know James has talked about this before, but it¡¯s not theoretical anymore. The good ¡®ol US of A doesn¡¯t consider ¡®attempted deicide¡¯ to be a crime, and we have no proof that these people ever attempted kidnapping, murder, or fraud. Their fates are entirely up to us, and we need to decide on what that¡¯s going to be, because it¡¯s gonna come up more and more.¡± A few people started talking at once, before they all paused, and tense quiet took over before Harvey took control of the proceedings. ¡°Karen, how about you go first, and we¡¯ll go around the table.¡± ¡°Lock them up, throw away the key.¡± Karen said simply. ¡°Some mistakes, you don¡¯t get to come back from.¡± ¡°We could also just shoot them.¡± Nate offered. ¡°I know a lot of you here won¡¯t like it, but we don¡¯t *have* long term prison facilities. And we know at least one of them can do some kind of road magic, and they¡¯re more than willing to use it to fuck people up. They¡¯re too dangerous to leave alive.¡± James took a deep breath, and was going to give a harsh answer, but Priestess-Under-Stone jumped in first. ¡°I could kill anyone in this room.¡± She said quietly. ¡°We¡± and she twitched her snout toward Knife-In-Fangs at the word, ¡°only exist as we are, because of a killing. A murder. But we were *forgiven*.¡± ¡°Yeah, thinking about it, I¡¯ve got way more blood on my hands than any of them do, as far as we know.¡± Sarah sighed. ¡°Self defense, sure. But¡­ Priestess isn¡¯t wrong. How many people in this room *aren¡¯t* deadly weapons? Show of hands?¡± Jake¡¯s hand shot up, a worried look in his eyes. Aside from Davis making a wobbling gesture of uncertainty, it was the only one. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, being dangerous isn¡¯t worth killing someone over.¡± ¡°But they¡¯re still¡­ I dunno what to call it.¡± Momo shook her head, a look of disgust on her face. ¡°Incompatible? Assholes? Maybe not all of them, but some of them. They *wanted* to have power over people, they were *okay* hurting people if it made them richer. That¡¯s messed up, and we shouldn¡¯t tolerate that.¡± And now, James spoke. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t ever want to be part of an organization that kills people it finds inconvenient.¡± He said. ¡°Hell, it¡¯s part of why I think we¡¯d be better for humanity than most governments. No, no executions. But we need to do more than just lock people up.¡± ¡°Why? The point is to punish them for what they¡¯ve done.¡± Karen asked. ¡°No, the point is to make a better world. That¡¯s always going to be the point of anything we¡¯re doing here.¡± James answered her. ¡°Isolating someone from society fixes one problem; they can¡¯t keep hurting people. But it doesn¡¯t fix the problem that you either have to keep them isolated, or eventually let them go, and then you have the same risk as before.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s something we see with US prisons *all the time*. Recidivism is way too high, because the main thing people learn in prison is contact information for other criminals, and how to do violence better. And yes, that¡¯s reductive, I know, I¡¯m going for a point here.¡± He cut Harvey off before the other man could correct him. ¡°My point is, we need a better solution. Rehabilitation. Therapy. Cultural immersion. Isolation from anyone they can hurt, sure, but also a path toward a better life. Maybe as members of the Order, maybe just as citizens of our new world. But we can¡¯t just lock em up or shoot em.¡± ¡°You want to treat them like victims.¡± Davis commented. He didn¡¯t say it with malice, just like he was making a mental connection. ¡°Aren¡¯t they?¡± Harvey said. ¡°Maybe not everyone we need to deal with will be, but a lot of these folks, they¡¯re *cultists*. Cults aren¡¯t exactly a full disclosure voluntary thing, right?¡± ¡°Oh, hell no.¡± Sarah agreed with him. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of lying, a lot of implicit threats. The whole point is exploitation of the membership.¡± Jake cleared his throat. ¡°Cults are often uncomfortable territory, but Ms. Moyle isn¡¯t wrong. A cult of personality, which it sounds like this was, is often a form of coercion against its members. It doesn¡¯t *legally* excuse their actions, but US juries will often show leniency on the actions of members, compared to leadership.¡± He looked around. ¡°Also I would probably quit now if you decided to carry out extrajudicial killings.¡± ¡°It was just a suggestion. I¡¯m fine with James¡¯ thing.¡± Nate shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s still a logistical issue.¡± Karen said with a sigh. ¡°We don¡¯t have the space, and we cannot afford another building if we want to remain solvent through the end of the year.¡± ¡°...Sure we do.¡± James said, blinking. ¡°We have a whole city.¡± ¡°And now we get to the second question.¡± Karen quipped. Jake jumped in. ¡°Okay, I was asked to prepare for this. If you look at page ten through sixteen in the meeting notes, you can see a cost breakdown of expected capital gains and property taxes, and legal fees. As well as the process of becoming an unincorporated township in the US.¡± ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t Townton already a city?¡± Momo asked. ¡°Well, it *was*. But since no one can remember it, documentation of it doesn¡¯t appear relevant. And despite having a very good degree, I don¡¯t actually know what the law is about ¡®what if everyone just doesn¡¯t acknowledge the missing city. So you¡¯ll probably want to file at least some paperwork.¡± James hummed. ¡°What if¡­¡± ¡°Here we go.¡± Momo rubbed her hands together. ¡°I¡¯ve been *waiting* for this. Fuckin¡¯ *say it*.¡± James gave her an exasperated glower before looking back around the table. ¡°What if we just moved in?¡± He said. ¡°With the dungeon there, it¡¯s a powerful resource. And the residual antimemetic effect gives us at least a little cover. If we move fast enough, by the time anyone notices¡­ well, refuge in audacity, right?¡± ¡°I cannot, *legally*, recommend that.¡± Jake answered. ¡°Buuuuut?¡± ¡°No, no but. I¡¯m not¡­ sorry, I should make this clear. I¡¯m here to assist with the estate processing for the deceased, to help people who haven¡¯t¡­ been exposed to your world¡­ to understand what has happened, and to help arbitrate property transfers. Your organization seems good at heart, and I can appreciate a lot of what you¡¯re doing. *We¡¯re* doing, now. But I am not, as you¡¯ve put it, culturally immersed. I am here to make sure that your actions in regards to this city and its surviving citizens do not veer into the unethical.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s totally fair. So, from an ethical perspective, is there anything wrong with us paying insurance or property value payouts to those who lost homes or their next of kin where available, and then just moving in?¡± ¡°A number of small things, yes. Though since your people have made it clear that the area is functionally an active disaster site, it mitigates most of them.¡± Mr. Redding flipped a page of his notes over and checked a couple of things. ¡°The thing to remember is, the law isn¡¯t always enforced equally. A number of things, such as zoning restrictions, or use of firearms within city limits, would normally be enforced by people who are dead now. And no one is planning to take their place.¡± He let his shoulders slump slightly. ¡°The loss of life, assuming this isn¡¯t some elaborate game you¡¯re all playing, is¡­ staggering. There have been wars that cost less than this.¡± He sighed, banishing his frown as best he could. ¡°Your concept of refuge in audacity isn¡¯t even legally irrational. If you were the sole caretaker of otherwise abandoned property, and that property remains abandoned for seven years, then you can claim the title for it. I¡¯ll need to do more research to see about the responsibilities of a city government.¡± ¡°That would be helpful, thank you.¡± Karen told him. ¡°Is there a barrier now to occupying the empty land?¡± ¡°Well, Tennessee trespassing laws could allow you to be arrested by local or state authorities, regardless of if the property is owned or active.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But again, they¡¯d have to find you.¡± ¡°I should mention the city doesn¡¯t actually connect to a highway anymore.¡± James pointed out. ¡°The Last Line Of Defense blew up the main road out of town. Jake flinched at the name. ¡°The *what*?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. Some kind of post-human soldier archetype. Bit of an asshole.¡± James shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll explain fully later. Everyone else here has heard this already.¡± Harvey pushed his chair back and stood up, and Nate followed suit. ¡°This mostly answers my question on what our future operations should be.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ll start preparing for combat operations starting next week. Clean the place up a bit.¡± Nate nodded. ¡°Also, I¡¯m gonna find someone to take my place as a military commander. Not my thing, and I¡¯ve mostly just been filling in.¡± ¡°I can find some people to get to work on putting all the asphalt back where it belongs, and not ¡®all over the damn place¡¯.¡± Momo added, stretching out before she also wobbled to her feet. ¡°And I¡¯ll get the word out.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Actually, we should get a stenographer for these meetings!¡± She declared. ¡°Just auto update a website somewhere with our discussions and stuff.¡± Davis nodded. ¡°I can get Reed to start on something for that.¡± ¡°I believe,¡± Planner whispered, ¡°Ms. Moyle meant that we should ask someone to type.¡± ¡°That seems lazy. We have engineers to solve problems like this.¡± Davis replied. James grinned. ¡°That sentence right there? That¡¯s how I know we¡¯ve got our idea hooks in you.¡± He said. ¡°Alright. Thanks everyone for catching me up. Sorry for dumping more work on us all. Just let me know if anyone needs anything extra.¡± There was, as there always was with meetings of this size, a period at the end where some people split off for individual conversations, or where the process of leaving overlapped for various people. As Jake folded up his own notes and followed Karen to her office to discuss funeral proceedings, a group of people headed to the elevator. Momo didn¡¯t waste time, and just teleported out alone, not wanting to sit around the conference table for a moment longer than needed. And so, at the end of a long talk, Sarah found James, the two of them the last ones in the area, standing at the window and looking down over the web of roads and glittering glass below. ¡°Every time I look at this, I just think we could build something more efficient.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Not, like, *us* us. But us. Humanity.¡± ¡°We have, in other places.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Cars are¡­ eh. They solve a problem, but also cause other problems. We need to make teleporting the transit of the future.¡± ¡°We¡¯re gonna need a *lot* more magic coffee grounds.¡± James smiled at her. ¡°I was *gonna ask* if you wanted to hit up Officium Mundi this coming week.¡± Sarah grinned back. She was, James was pretty sure, the only one who always pronounced the whole dungeon names. Every time. ¡°Need a teammate?¡± ¡°Always.¡± He said, trading a light high five with her. ¡°Gonna need someone to carry me when I break the rest of my bones!¡± ¡°Psh.¡± Her smile wavered a little. ¡°You okay?¡± Sarah asked. There was, James realized, a lot of emotion and language packed into those two small words. You okay. Was he okay? He¡¯d tried to go on vacation, and because he¡¯d been screwing around, not acting fast enough, thousands of people had died. He¡¯d had to kill another person. He¡¯d been kicked around, beat up, damaged and injured. And now all these people who were so *obviously* smarter than him were asking him questions, looking to him for direction on important shit. And he was exhausted. So, so tired. He just wanted to¡­ well, fade into the background of a dungeon delve, really. Explore, out there where there were no expectations or worries. See something new and cool, without major stakes and ethical ramifications, and maybe pick up a new superpower while doing it. But was he okay? He didn¡¯t know. But maybe that was okay, on its own. ¡°I¡¯ll live.¡± He told Sarah with a soft smile. ¡°I could have done more, you know?¡± ¡°Maybe. But you also could have done less.¡± She reminded him. ¡°Also! What¡¯s the new dungeon like? Tell me! We haven¡¯t really talked except at the security debrief!¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯d like it, I think. It¡¯s got mazes and magic gasoline and a whole bunch of weird stuff. Though not all clumped up, like here. It¡¯s a hell of a road trip.¡± ¡°What¡¯re we calling this one? El said that she didn¡¯t like the name Route Predation anymore, since¡­ you know, the whole thing.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been mentally saying Route Horizon.¡± James said, nodding understandingly at El¡¯s change of heart. ¡°It¡­ it tried, you know? I think that¡¯s the thing. The inside is hostile, and *harsh*. But when the time came, the dungeon *tried*. It for sure saved Jeanne and Ava. And probably thousands of others. It was fighting back, I think. Right up to the end there.¡± ¡°Route Horizon.¡± Sarah said the words, like she was intoning them into a mental shelf where she kept special names. ¡°I like it. Can¡¯t wait to visit her.¡± ¡°Her?¡± ¡°Oh, her, absolutely.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°Probably. I mean, I¡¯ll *ask* when I have the chance!¡± James found himself laughing, a smile on his face so wide it shot pain through the damaged skin of his cheeks. ¡°Everyone should has someone this optimistic in their life.¡± He told her as he wiped away a small tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning broadly. ¡°I know, that¡¯s why I do a podcast!¡± Sarah reminded him, matching his smile. She elbowed him lightly. ¡°So, any big plans for your progression up the power ranking?¡± Giving a snort, James shook his head. ¡°Honestly, I think I¡¯m cool not getting any more magic. Like, don¡¯t get me wrong, it¡¯s a huge dopamine hit every time something happens. But do I actually *need* another rank in Aim, or another weird road spell? Wha-¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Sarah interjected. James gave her a *look*. ¡°Okay, but you get what I¡¯m saying, right? There¡¯s a lot of people in the Order now who could make use of a copied armory package, or the next schoolbook. Am I really the-¡± ¡°*Yes*.¡± Sarah reiterated. ¡°And not just because you¡¯re my best friend, and I trust you with phenomenal cosmic power.¡± She waggled her fingers in the air as she intoned the words. ¡°But also, because you keep ending up as our front line. You almost died! You¡­ you almost died again.¡± He voice trailed off, and she turned her face away from James, the optimistic smile slipping. He didn¡¯t turn away, just watched her as his confusion cleared up. ¡°Ah.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°Yeah, I guess that¡¯s true, isn¡¯t it? People just keep shooting at me or throwing monsters my way. Dammit. I was hoping I could outsource that!¡± ¡°Really?¡± Sarah glanced back at him. ¡°Really.¡± ¡°Nah, not really.¡± James admitted. ¡°I mean, okay, I don¡¯t *like* the repeated near death experiences. But I do like protecting people when I can. I like exploring new places, even when they¡¯re dangerous. Maybe *because* they¡¯re dangerous, I haven¡¯t done that much introspection. But¡­ I mean, hell. When I found the Office for the first time, I remember¡­ fuck, this sounds so bad¡­ I remember feeling alive when I was in it. Risking my life for tiny yellow orbs or a weird pen or something. It was so much more than everything else in the ¡®real world¡¯, and I loved it. And I¡¯m probably super lucky I ended up bringing in Anesh and then everyone else later, or I might have just gone in and not come out. And I¡­ well, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever shaken that feeling. Even when I was feeling depressed and exhausted, my instinct was to go on another Office delve, or to take a ¡®vacation¡¯ to go beat up a Road Necromancer.¡± James thunked his head into the pane of the window, eyes unfocused on anything but the sun glittering off the horizon. Sarah rubbed a hand across his back. Gave him a nod, like she knew exactly what he meant. And he realized then, that he¡¯d never actually asked her why *she* had been going into Officium Mundi in the first place. ¡°So.¡± Sarah drawled. ¡°Got any plans for sucking up the magic through the danger straw?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna go climb the stupid mountain.¡± James said, neither of them unable to hold back grins, and then a rapid waterfall of laughter that bounced through the office floor and drew raised eyebrows from the people still working up here. Sarah gave him a soft high five. ¡°I¡¯m right there with you my dude.¡± She informed him. ¡°Wanna go see if we can weasel into the hospital and ask the kids what they¡¯re gonna name it?¡± ¡°Pff. No. Because Karen would kill me, and I cannot prove she doesn¡¯t have that power.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Also, hey, I didn¡¯t realize this, but Momo said that Chevoy was there too? But Chevoy was¡­ one of the people on the rescue team for *me*. Is that girl cloning herself too, or did she just walk off frostbite?¡± Sarah blinked. ¡°Thaaaaat is a good question. Wanna go get lunch and see if we can ambush her and ask.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James decided. ¡°Yes. And also, I¡¯m okay. Yeah. I¡¯m good.¡± He said, and meant it. ¡°Now! Let¡¯s get back to work.¡± There was a lot to do. Chapter 163 ¡°Years ago, my mother used to say to me, ¡®Elwood, in this life, you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant.¡¯ Well for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.¡± - Elwood P. Dowd, Harvey - _____ James pushed open the stairwell door to one of their many, many basements. He¡¯d started taking the stairs more, because they were so much easier to deal with, and because someone - probably Anesh - had put up convenient signs on all of them. And now that the Great Reorganization was more or less done, all six and a half of their basements were in full use, and a single elevator simply wasn¡¯t logistically enough for everyone anymore. Especially not if James was always hitting the wrong button. Because he *was*, even if there was a nice floor guide in the elevator too. This floor was now wholly devoted to Research, and the vault. Basement one, it had been officially relabeled, after it was revealed that half the order called it basement one, half of them called it basement two, and at *least* two people called it basement A. The new basement two was living quarters, along with a garden space, made possible by the ongoing attempts to domesticate and safeguard May, the living raincloud from Clutter Ascent. Basement three was operations for Response, making use of the biggest open floor space to set up banks for phones and computers, and using the rest of the floor for break or nap areas for teams on call, a small armory, and a few rooms for evacuated civilians, until they could be moved somewhere safer. Basement four was more living space, but these ones actually designed and the whole floor remodeled by the Order to be camraconda-comfortable. That was also where they¡¯d set up a permanent worship space. Basement five was a sort of catchall, and was currently where the asphalt golem they¡¯d built was stored. They used that one for experimentation a lot, or group projects. Basement number six was just storage. Mostly for clutter extracted from the other basements, but also it was where continual efforts to organize the various non-dangerous dungeon artifacts were ongoing. Right now, James was in basement one, because he needed to talk to someone from Research. Ideally Reed, if he could find him. Though given how quiet it was, it actually felt like an empty basement for once. As he headed down the hallway to the main collaborative research space, James appreciated the remodel down here, even if this floor wasn¡¯t as heavily redone as the others. Gone were the patches of darkness lit by unsteady hanging lightbulbs. In their place, the whole basement was bathed in a nicely diffused white light from properly bolted LED clusters up in the corners of the wall and ceiling. The floor was still concrete, but in the new light, the whole thing really showed off how clean the place had been made. And cork boards outside the doors to the repurposed storage rooms showed off up to date reports on experiments or scheduling, making the whole place feel like the well used and well loved rec center James remembered taking flute classes at as a kid. When he emerged into the large floor area that members of Research tended to use as a sort of office space, he found it mostly empty. ¡°Hey, uh¡­ John, right?¡± He greeted the singular human down here. There was a small pen in the center of the desks full of shellaxies, but despite all efforts on the part of some people, they weren¡¯t actually people at this point. ¡°John, yeah.¡± The young man replied with a nod, looking up from what he was typing, and doing a nervous double take as he saw James. ¡°What can I help you with?¡± ¡°I¡¯m looking for Reed, actually. Is he here?¡± James asked. Whatever John was going to say was cut off by another voice, and he gave James a relieved look as he awkwardly pointed over toward the other speaker. Poking her head up from underneath a desk opposite them on the floor, Chevoy called over, ¡°Reed¡¯s not here!¡± James strolled around the fortress of desks, filing cabinets, and computer monitors, making a wide circle to see what Chevoy was up to. ¡°Is it actually the weekend?¡± James asked her glibly. ¡°I didn¡¯t think that was a thing down here.¡± ¡°Psh.¡± The girl slid herself smoothly out from under the desk, hopped to her feet, and planted a cordless drill on an empty part of the surface. ¡°We *do* take breaks sometimes!¡± She said. ¡°Reed¡¯s got a D&D game today. Every Sunday, actually.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± James paused, trying to find a way to word what he was thinking politely. ¡°No, can¡¯t think of a way to make this sound nice. I didn¡¯t think Reed had a social life?¡± Chevoy squawked a laugh, before covering her mouth with an embarrassed look in her eyes. ¡°Ah, well, it¡¯s technically still in the building, so I don¡¯t think it counts. But I don¡¯t make the rules. Besides, he¡¯s practically always here, he deserves a break.¡± She said the last part defensively. The bit of obvious respect she had for Reed made James smile. ¡°Oh, I mean, it¡¯s completely fine. He can take as much downtime as he wants, you know? Everyone can. We¡¯re not, like, a *business*.¡± ¡°Yeah, that takes getting used to.¡± James¡¯ suddenly made a connection in his brain. ¡°Actually, hang on. When do *you* take time off? Because you¡¯ve been at *two* major crises in the last¡­ what, two weeks?¡± He crossed his arms. ¡°Didn¡¯t you still have *frostbite* when you were dropping into bail my stupid ass out of a fight?¡± ¡°Technically, no, I didn¡¯t have frostbite.¡± Chevoy didn¡¯t meet his eyes. ¡°Also I didn¡¯t fight, I was just there to run reconnaissance. And because Pendragon is cool.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t argue on that point. But you¡¯re not overdoing it, right?¡± Chevoy paused, then gave a sideways glance at him, scanning over his leg and face. ¡°I won¡¯t tell anyone that you¡¯re walking around if you don¡¯t tell them I¡¯m working.¡± ¡°Deal.¡± James snap agreed. ¡°But seriously, you do take days off, right?¡± The younger woman shot him a concerned glance. ¡°Why the hell would I do that? It¡¯s great here. Even John¡¯s still here, and he¡¯s not even doing anything.¡± She nodded across the floor to the kid who was doing his best to look like he wasn¡¯t listening in. ¡°It¡¯s always something new, always something fun. You basically made a playground for us, and now you¡¯re confused why people keep playing on it.¡± ¡°To be clear, you¡¯re including the occasional bursts of life threatening combat in the playground thing?¡± James asked with a smile. ¡°Oh, yeah, whatever.¡± Chevoy fluttered a hand at him. ¡°But, counterpoint, *anything to do with the skulljacks*. Also if I really need a break, I can just teleport somewhere relaxing.¡± ¡°We really need to be more responsible with those things.¡± James muttered. ¡°Why?¡± Declining to answer, James pivoted toward the other kid in the room, calling over the sleepy shellaxy pod, ¡°Changing topics rapidly, John, why are *you* here? If you¡¯re actually not doing anything.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± The kid lurched in his chair, a guilty look on his face. ¡°I¡­ I¡­ um¡­ I have work I should be doing. But it¡¯s¡­ I mean, it¡¯s kind of boring, and I wanted to take a break.¡± ¡°Oh. That¡¯s perfectly normal.¡± James was almost disappointed. ¡°What *is* your job, by the way?¡± ¡°I check pencils from Officium Mundi. It¡¯s¡­ I mean, it¡¯s boring. But sometimes there¡¯s a cool one.¡± John shrugged. ¡°Someone has to do it, right?¡± James shrugged. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s useful. But if you don¡¯t like it, you can find something else to do, you know.¡± He instantly regretted the way he¡¯d phrased that as a look of despair crossed the young researcher¡¯s face. ¡°This is, to be clear, not a threat! I¡¯m not saying we¡¯ll fire you if you don¡¯t get though at least a bushel of pencils a day or something! We don¡¯t really fire people here.¡± Then, muttering under his breath, ¡°Except for one later.¡± And out loud again, ¡°Seriously, what would you rather be doing?¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t mind the pencil thing. I mean, they¡¯re *magic*, and I¡­¡± ¡°Not what I asked, man.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Come on, advocate for yourself a bit. The whole point of this is that we don¡¯t end up in jobs we hate.¡± John winced, then looked up from the desk he¡¯d been staring at in an attempt to escape this conversation. ¡°I mean, I kind of want to¡­ this sounds stupid.¡± He trailed off, but James just waited patiently, arms folded, with an understanding expression. ¡°I wanted to be one of the people exploring the other dungeons. Not the Office!¡± He quickly explained without being prompted. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go back there! But¡­ there¡¯s other places, too, right? And¡­ and I wanted to see them. But it sounds stupid when¡­¡± ¡°Alright, sure.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Most of them are¡­ uh¡­ stupidly dangerous.¡± He looked the kid up and down, evaluating him even though he was sitting in a chair. ¡°You¡¯ll need to put on at least a little muscle, and go through a combat experience course. I think Nate¡¯s running them once a month, but we¡¯ve been *so* busy. Maybe I can get Alanna to start up part of the rotation now that she¡¯s back. Anyway, talk to Reed about it, he¡¯ll requisition you some of the exercise potions, and an armory package.¡± ¡°...Just like that?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes.¡± James nodded. ¡°Pretty much. Though it *is* helpful that you¡¯re testing all the pencils. So doing at least a little of that would still be nice? But, like, don¡¯t make it some sisyphean task if you hate it.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway. Unless either of you know why Reed wanted to talk to me about the rubber, I¡¯m gonna head out.¡± Chevoy looked up from the bundle of cords she was pulling through the new hole in the desk she was working at. ¡°Is *that* why you¡¯re down here? I coulda told you that a while back! Hell, Reed could have just messaged you.¡± ¡°I think he likes talking in person.¡± James said. ¡°Makes him less lonely.¡± ¡°He is literally never alone down here¡­ wait, is Reed an extrovert?!¡± Chevoy gave James an incredulous look. ¡°That¡¯s insane! How have I not noticed that?¡± James rolled his eyes, unnoticed by the excited engineer. ¡°You have worked here for, like, maybe two months. What even *are* you working on right now?¡± ¡°Oh, skulljack stuff, mostly. Designing secure firmware. I¡¯m not really good at hardware, which is what Mars and Mike are in charge of. Mike and Mars who, by the way, have *also* worked here for only a few months, but *I* have several different magic things more than! Anyway, I¡¯m mostly just trying to find ways to natively host something like a firewall on the skulljack¡¯s primary connected platform.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s kinda slow going. In my spare time, I read all the notes Virgil left before he quit, and try to understand what the hell he was thinking. Also! Now I¡¯m aware of my breathing at all times, because I keep thinking about the ¡®breath¡¯ thing the mountain gave me!¡± ¡°...Ah.¡± James closed his eyes, and looked off to the side, taking a deep stabilizing breath before he opened them again. ¡°...Virgil didn¡¯t quit, did he?¡± Chevoy asked, voice split between awkward embarrassment, and concern. A part of James mind wanted to ask her what she *thought* happened, after she¡¯d just nearly died twice in a week, while being officially a non-combat member. But he bit back the hostility and just shook his head and spoke softly instead. ¡°He did not, no.¡± James said. ¡°Oh, if you¡¯re looking through his notes, see if you can find anything about a Wikipedia dungeon. He..¡± Chevoy threw up her hands. ¡°He references it three times, and never explains how to get to it!¡± She yelled. ¡°He¡¯s a cryptic ass!¡± ¡°Yeah, that sounds about right.¡± James put on a shaky smile. Then, he paused before turning to leave. ¡°Also, I was actually curious what you were doing *right now*, with the drill and stuff. Not¡­ sorry, were you talking about getting the human brain to run programs?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes.¡± Chevoy said. ¡°It¡¯s not working. Also I¡¯m just setting up a workstation for a new guy. Quiet-Intentional-Dark wants to work with us. So, new desk.¡± ¡°...shouldn¡¯t a camraconda desk be lower to the ground, or have a ramp or something?¡± James asked. Chevoy paused, looked at the human standard desk she¡¯d just finished drilling holes in and running computer cables through, looked down at the drill in her hand, then back to the desk. Then she started swearing, while James excused himself with a laugh and headed back to the stairs, shaking his head the whole way. It wouldn¡¯t be for another hour before he realized no one had actually told him why Reed wanted to talk about the weird rubber they¡¯d recovered from the highway dungeon. _____ ¡°Hey Momers.¡± James said, ducking under a bushel of hanging cords and into the room she had *accidentally* built a digital intelligence in. ¡°You busy?¡± He asked the girl who spun her chair around dramatically to face him. She made the maneuver so smoothly, James half expected her to say she¡¯d been ¡®expecting him¡¯ in an ominous tone. ¡°No more or less than usual. I was just about to come find you.¡± Momo was, James noticed, actually dressed in human clothes, and not just wearing a battered fuzzy bathrobe and pretending she was fine all the time. It was the kind of thing she¡¯d probably try to play off as not a big deal, but it meant one of two things. Either she had something a bit more serious to talk about, and didn¡¯t want to look *entirely* unprofessional. Or, she was actually trying to take care of herself. James approved of one of those things. ¡°Nice pants.¡± He nodded at the shorts she was wearing, which were, naturally, black denim and covered in an equal number of pockets, and silver trinkets. ¡°Are you doing alright? Anything you wanna talk about?¡± ¡°...I know we¡¯re, like, closer than normal, for you being in charge of everything, but that¡¯s still kinda weird to hear from you.¡± Momo said. He just offered a shrug in return. ¡°I¡¯m trying to be more open, you know? Social conditioning and anxiety can¡¯t rule my life forever. Being vulnerable is a work in progress, but I¡¯m not interested in being distant, as a leader.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°I know you¡¯ve had a hard time, I haven¡¯t been great at being supportive, and I¡¯m interested in fixing that, and trying.¡± Momo peered at him with narrow eyes. ¡°Suspicious.¡± She decided on. ¡°In a good mood, being casually caring¡­ Have you been replaced by a body snatcher again?¡± ¡°First of all, that never actually happened.¡± James instantly reverted to defensive snark. ¡°*Also*, I¡¯m just in a good mood. That¡¯s allowed!¡± He chuckled. ¡°That, plus I actually started an antidepressant at my partners¡¯ urging, and I¡¯m cautiously optimistic.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± Momo¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°That¡¯s really cool, dude. And also tanks my biggest defensive excuse for not¡­ you know, fixing my own life. What¡¯re you taking?¡± ¡°Sorry, hang on, back up.¡± James shook his head vehemently, waving his arms in front of him. ¡°You were using me as an excuse?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no. You misheard.¡± Momo settled on. ¡°Excuses are bad.¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°Seriously, though. Thanks? I¡­ just thanks. Everyone here *cares*, obviously. I¡¯m not isolated or anything. But thanks. That matters to me.¡± James smiled warmly. ¡°I¡¯d offer you a hug or something, but the last person I talked to was Nate, and as a result of being in the kitchen while there are young students learning how to do stuff, most of me is still damp from where I had a pot of sauce spilled on me.¡± ¡°*That¡¯s* why you smell like tomatoes!¡± Momo matched his smile. ¡°Anyway, I have serious news.¡± ¡°I *knew* the pants meant serious news.¡± James mock grumbled. Momo stuck her tongue out, before continuing. ¡°Seriously, though. I¡¯m worried about Nameless.¡± ¡°The AI, with no name, who we all now call Nameless.¡± James clarified with a sigh. ¡°Yeah, this place is infectious. I¡¯ve only just noticed.¡± ¡°Yeah, her.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°Or, it, I guess. Them? Them. I keep thinking of them as¡­ this is unimportant. Look, the point is, I¡¯m worried.¡± Worried, in the context of an AI, could take several flavors, and James was both curious and terrified to find out which one this would be. We¡¯re they planning to eat the internet? Exterminate humanity? Build a spaceship and leave this foolish world behind? So many options, none of them great. ¡°Worried how, exactly?¡± He asked, a non-zero amount of trepidation in his voice. ¡°I think they¡¯re breaking down.¡± Momo said, a slight hitch in her voice. James instantly regretted his cynical assumptions. ¡°Aw heck. Why? Is there a way to stop it?¡± He glanced over to the webcam and microphone setup near the pile of computer hardware. ¡°Also, is this a conversation we should be having here?¡± ¡°They already know.¡± Momo said. ¡°Also¡­ I don¡¯t know how to explain this exactly. They don¡¯t *feel*, the way we do. Not really. They have things they want, and they become frantic if they can¡¯t get those things, but most of their recognizable feelings are things that they pick up through a few red totems, and¡­ well, they¡¯re breaking down.¡± Momo seemed to shrink into her seat, twisting back and forth as she talked. ¡°I don¡¯t really know why, but I think it¡¯s because they keep changing things. Making tweaks to their own code, or drawing too much on the totems, or something. I dunno? Just a lot of little things that¡¯ve added up, and now it¡¯s causing bigger problems. But *also*, there¡¯s one really big thing that happened recently that accelerated it.¡± ¡°So, what do we do about it? Is there a way to replace the programming chunks? I know you were using the emerald chips, right? Can we just swap them out?¡± James asked. ¡°Also, does Nameless have any ideas on it?¡± Momo winced. ¡°I thought about it, but the problem is the chips grow stuff differently every time, and while Nameless is good at incorporating new stuff, it always changes them, and there¡¯s no real promise that replacing something wouldn¡¯t change something¡­ fundamental. Like, who they are, how they act, anything about them. They kind of arose randomly, and I have no way to say if they¡¯d come out the same again.¡± She paused. ¡°Also¡­¡± ¡°Also?¡± James prompted. ¡°Also they don¡¯t care.¡± Momo¡¯s voice shook. ¡°They just don¡¯t¡­ care.¡± James blinked. ¡°That they¡¯re breaking down? That¡­¡± He felt a surge of protectiveness in his chest. ¡°But they¡¯re dying.¡± He muttered. ¡°I know.¡± Momo shrugged. ¡°*Nameless* knows. It doesn¡¯t matter, though. They just¡­ they don¡¯t *care*!¡± Momo practically yelled the last word, as she pushed out of her chair and started pacing the cramped room, stepping around boxes and piles of tools on the floor. ¡°They¡¯re just interested in doing what they want! And it feels like they¡¯re just in massive denial about having a problem, while they throw their time away looking at weather spreadsheets! And I¡¯m¡­ I don¡¯t know what to *do*! I made them¡­!¡± Momo whipped her head around to look at James, and he saw the beads of tears in her eyes. ¡°I made them, man. And they don¡¯t even care that they¡¯re dying, and they don¡¯t want help, and¡­ and¡­¡± She trailed off, breath coming in unsteady gasps. James stepped over a box of floppy drives, and unspeakingly folded Momo into a hug. The two of them stood like that for a while, with Momo curled in on herself while James just offered her what comfort he could. After minutes that felt like hours, Momo sniffed, wiped away at one of her eyes, and muttered, ¡°You smell like tomato sauce.¡± ¡°I warned you.¡± James said, releasing her from the hug. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t know how to help. And I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯s okay to help someone like this. This is a very strange ethical territory you¡¯re exploring here.¡± He sighed. ¡°Also, what¡¯s the big thing you said earlier?¡± ¡°Oh. Nameless found a dungeon.¡± Momo said. ¡°Uh¡­ they found Virgil¡¯s dungeon, actually.¡± ¡°Holy shit, no way.¡± James¡¯ eyebrows shot up. ¡°Have you checked it out?¡± ¡°I have not.¡± Momo said, shooting a glare at the bank of hardware that was Nameless¡¯ physical container. ¡°Because apparently, they aren¡¯t just interested in *finding* dungeons, but collecting *all sorts* of data on them.¡± ¡°Wait.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± James squeezed his eyes shut before speaking. ¡°So¡­ the AI¡¯s degradation is¡­ battle damage?¡± He asked incredulous. ¡°Also why haven¡¯t you checked it out?¡± ¡°Because!¡± Momo threw her hands up. ¡°The access point *moves*! And apparently Nameless is alive enough that whatever antimeme protects the dungeon wipes its memory of the method!¡± She pointed an arm behind her, leveling a finger at Nameless. ¡°They¡¯ve been in *five times*, and didn¡¯t tell anyone! And it¡¯s *killing them*!¡± ¡°Nameless.¡± James said in a quiet, patient. ¡°Are you listening?¡± ¡°I am always listening.¡± The AI replied. ¡°How are you?¡± James waited a heartbeat for the continued cavalcade of questions the AI normally had, but that was it. If he didn¡¯t know better, he¡¯d say it sounded *sheepish*. ¡°I¡¯m doing alright. And you already heard me tell Momo that. Can you tell me, why are you hurting yourself?¡± ¡°I do not hurt.¡± The nameless AI replied. ¡°I am collecting data. And resources. Information and xenotech are both of use to the greater organization. My actions reinforce the pattern. Why do you do what you do? What would you have me do instead?¡± ¡°The¡­ you¡­¡± James shook his head. ¡°No, no. Answers first. Why do I do what I do? I do what I do to help people. So fewer people are hurt, more people live. So that the pattern, as you call it, grows and becomes more complex. What would I have you do?¡± He paused, and glanced at Momo, who was fuming, clearly having already had this conversation. ¡°I¡¯d have you be part of that pattern.¡± James said. ¡°A permanent part.¡± ¡°Nothing is permanent. I have data to show that.¡± Nameless replied. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m human, so that¡¯s terrifying, and I use ¡®permanent¡¯ to mean ¡®eh, thirty to eighty years, and pretend it will be longer¡¯.¡± ¡°I will record that.¡± The AI¡¯s synthesized voice said. ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡± James winced. ¡°It¡¯s a very embarrassing thing to admit. Anyway, the point is, the *point*, is that your existence is *valid*, and you are shortening it for no good reason!¡± There was a quiet tension in the air, broken when the AI spoke again. ¡°My existence is not self-defining.¡± They said. ¡°I am different from you. I want to study, to compare. And also to explore, in my way. When I end, I will not measure my success or failure. I only know, now, whether I am doing as I want. Momo says I am defining myself as a tool. But if that is true, am I not a good tool? I am succeeding, now. That is all I can know. The future is not real. I am not human.¡± Momo looked like she was going to try to strangle the computer, but James just lay a hand on her shoulder and made a low uncomfortable humming noise. ¡°Okay, putting aside the horrifying existential crisis waiting to happen there, what about the connections to and feelings of the people around you? There¡¯s quite a few people in the Order that like you. Does that not add value to the process of sticking around? To put it in terms of utility.¡± ¡°No.¡± Nameless said simply. ¡°It is not part of the set of things I want. And I cannot change that. You could, if you wanted.¡± ¡°Oh, I am ridiculously not comfortable with that.¡± James spoke without thinking. ¡°Yeah, welcome to my whole week.¡± Momo ground her teeth together. ¡°The whole fucking foundation you¡¯ve gotten us all on board with is that consent is important. And now, someone consents to let me *rewire their brain*, and you know what? I¡¯m not super comfortable with it!¡± She shifted away from James. ¡°I do *not* know what to do, but none of it is fun. I signed up to have fun.¡± Momo griped. ¡°I think you¡¯re misremembering the hiring process.¡± James joked, trying to lighten the mood. Then, more serious, he added ¡°But I do see where you¡¯re coming from. Is there a good ethical reason to not just add a component to Nameless that makes them want to be alive?¡± ¡°The impermanence of all things?¡± Momo suggested, and instantly regretted it as she saw James shudder and clench his hands into fists. ¡°Uh¡­ also, I don¡¯t think it would help. It would only make them¡­ sad. AI-sad. Whatever. Because the degradation is ongoing, and more or less unfixable.¡± ¡°Terminal.¡± The AI added, and it sounded like it was *smirking* with its synthetic speech. ¡°Did you just make a pun?¡± James asked. ¡°Is puns one of the things you want?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The AI answered. ¡°It is confluence of linguistic data.¡± ¡°I guess it is, yeah.¡± James agreed, before turning back to Momo. ¡°Do you want the shitty truth that I don¡¯t see a workaround for?¡± ¡°No. But say it anyway.¡± James shook his head, shoulder¡¯s slumping. ¡°Let them be comfortable. Happy. And when they can¡¯t keep doing what they want, we help them shutdown easily.¡± The words felt *wrong*, even as he said them. The emotional part of him that hated the idea if death rebelling against its existence. ¡°Or, you know, we hope they find a healing potion for AIs in the dungeon they *apparently* keep finding and delving!¡± He was a little annoyed at that, and let that emotion take over, driving away the shadows. ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation, they did bring back a bunch of dungeon stuff.¡± Momo suggested. ¡°How long has this been going on?¡± James asked. ¡°A week, like I said. But I literally only found out today about the dungeon thing.¡± Momo shifted something on the desk, and handed a cardboard box over to James. He peeked inside and saw a mishmash of data storage hardware. Floppy disks and USB sticks and other such pieces of technology scattered together. ¡°I haven¡¯t tested any of them.¡± Momo said. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ really want to, right now.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Hang on to it for now.¡± James passed the box back. ¡°We can take it to Research later. Let them figure it out.¡± ¡°You know I¡¯m part of Research, right?¡± Momo raised her eyebrows at him. James cleared his throat. ¡°Honestly? I¡¯ve internally been thinking of you as a one-girl division called Ritual, because I noticed the other day that all of our divisions are r-words.¡± ¡°Oh my god, yes.¡± Momo gave a slightly manic giggle. ¡°Yes! That¡¯s what I am now! I¡¯m gonna start recruiting. Can I get the new kid with the infomorph? She seems like a *great* witch candidate!¡± ¡°Who, Ava? Uh¡­ hell no.¡± James drawled as he turned to head out. ¡°For one thing, her mom would kill me. For another¡­ actually, that¡¯s all I¡¯ve got. No, wait! The danger! You can¡¯t put literal children in danger. Besides, she¡¯s gonna be going back to school this year.¡± Momo pulled a face. ¡°Ew¡± ¡°Yeah, I know. We¡¯ll solve that one next.¡± James promised. _____ ¡°Dang, kid. What happened to you?¡± Bill let out a low whistle as he passed his nominal boss in the hallway. James stopped as the burly older construction foreman turned to face him in passing. ¡°What?¡± He raised his eyebrows, and instantly winced as the skin on his face pulled. ¡°Oh, right. That. Chemical explosion.¡± ¡°The fuck did you blow up?¡± Bill asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the basement wall. ¡°Well that¡¯s just mean. What makes you think I¡­? Okay, yeah, not even gonna try to finish that sentence. It was a living tanker truck full of what I *think* was some sort of explosive concoction. A lot of it got on my face. Alanna¡¯s kinda messed up too, but there was more intact windshield protecting her.¡± James sighed. ¡°Really don¡¯t wanna do that again, honestly.¡± Bill stared at him. ¡°...You shitting me?¡± ¡°No, I actually don¡¯t want to do that again.¡± James blinked. ¡°Oh, and yeah, that actually happened. I guess you¡¯ve been kinda busy with other stuff lately, huh?¡± He sighed. ¡°No one appreciates my reckless heroism.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve actually been out for the week. We got some acreage over in Yamhill that no one ever goes to where we can test out buildings. Someone said it was fine if I worked in chunks, so I can take a whole week off every now and then.¡± Bill stated it like he was almost challenging James. ¡°Yup.¡± James just nodded. ¡°Good call.¡± He agreed. ¡°So, how is the totem stuff going, anyway? You fitting in?¡± Bill¡¯s shoulders slumped a bit in equal parts relief and exhaustion. ¡°Honestly? Kid, I don¡¯t know what the fuck I¡¯m doing. It¡¯s like¡­ like I¡¯ll put together a building frame to test on, and everyone will gather around, and when they look at it, they¡¯re seeing stuff I¡¯m blind to. Like I woke up one day an¡¯ got told that I¡¯ve been disabled this whole time, but nothing¡¯s changed.¡± He shook his head, staring down the hallway to avoid looking at James. ¡°They don¡¯t need me there. I¡¯m just putting together shacks. You can find someone better at the magic part for that.¡± ¡°Are you... quitting?¡± James was confused. ¡°Do you actually want some old guy who can¡¯t adapt around?¡± Bill snorted out. James sighed. ¡°Okay, so, here¡¯s the deal. And I¡¯m gonna try to make this quick, because I¡¯ve got a lot more of this exact same conversation today, probably. So you get to be my guinea pig.¡± He paused, but didn¡¯t get interrupted, and so carried on. ¡°You¡¯re not here so you can build a magical city. You¡¯re here so you can help us build a magical *society*. I didn¡¯t hire you to be an urban engineer-¡± At that point, Bill actually did interrupt. ¡°Wait, really? Shit, kid, I¡¯ve been studying for that like I¡¯m back in college and exams are coming up, and I could have skipped all that?¡± ¡°...¡± James tried to find a spot on his face to press his palm into that wasn¡¯t burned. ¡°Okay¡­ nevermind, you are now hired to be an urban engineer. Does that not¡­ is that not a qualification?! Is that not adapting!? Oh my god! You don¡¯t need to be a goddamn wizard to work here, Bill!¡± James exclaimed with no small amount of frustration. ¡°We¡¯re in this for *everyone*. Just putting up walls is good enough! *Being here* is good enough! We¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ agh!¡± He threw a hand over his head and spun around to thump his forehead into the wall, only narrowly being dodged by a passing camraconda duo who politely ignored the scene. ¡°Is this part of the test run?¡± Bill asked, sounding equally confused and amused. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± James bonked the wall again, before pushing back and facing the man again. ¡°Alright. Look. We want to make a city, yes. But also we want to make a better world. The city is a working model of how *everything* can be better. And that means either finding places for everyone, or letting people find their own places.¡± He straightened up his back as he made the connection himself and gained a growing confidence in his own words. ¡°It¡¯s not about the buildings. It¡¯s about the culture. But we¡¯re not gonna get to the point that we can share that culture, shape that culture, without the foundation. And that¡¯s something you can help with. And I don¡¯t even know if I¡¯m making sense here?¡± ¡°I mean¡­¡± Bill shook his head, rubbing a hand across the rough stubble on his chin. ¡°It just sounds naive, kid.¡± He said. ¡°You just don¡¯t need someone like me for this.¡± ¡°Bill, being perfectly honest, I don¡¯t *need* any of this.¡± James folded his arms over his chest. ¡°I could be living a perfectly comfortable life if I¡¯d never told anyone about this, never stuck my neck out, and just vacuumed up all the cash from Officium Mundi. Which I guess probably looks naive to a lot of people. But it would have been boring, and useless. So we¡¯re doing this instead, and you¡¯re invited to join.¡± Bill pursed his lips and gave a small ongoing bob of his head. ¡°Alright.¡± He said finally, in his rumbling voice. ¡°Alright?¡± ¡°Yeah, sounds good.¡± Bill¡¯s nod got bigger, before he turned to go. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m back to the test site. Don¡¯t work too hard.¡± ¡°...Was there actually a problem, or do people just like getting me riled up about stuff?¡± James asked after him. ¡°I¡¯m starting to suspect people are just messing with me. Or just constantly testing my convictions.¡± He grumbled, before he shook his head and went back to his original goal of borrowing a telepad from someone on Response. ¡°Dumbass. Trying to quit.¡± He muttered to himself, ignoring the people he was passing. ¡°The one day I plan on firing someone, and I¡¯m spending time convincing people to say.¡± Twenty feet after James had passed, Morgan turned to Color-Of-Dawn. ¡°Can people actually get fired here? I didn¡¯t think that was a thing.¡± The camraconda twisted to look back at James as the Order¡¯s founder made his way through the door to the Response armory. ¡°Hasn¡¯t fired *me*.¡± It said, synthesized voice sounding almost petulant. ¡°Right, and you¡¯re actually a hardened criminal.¡± Morgan tried to make the joke sound lighthearted, but it still came out strained. The two of them shifted slightly, moving away from each other a fraction as they continued to the rest room. And then, Color-Of-Dawn looked up with curiosity in its lens. ¡°Would we accept hardened criminals?¡± It asked Morgan. Morgan almost stumbled as the question hit him, and he spun on the ball of his foot to walk backward briefly, looking down at the camraconda. ¡°I mean, they took me, and I shoplifted *a lot* before I got here. So, probably? Yeah. Yeah! Probably!¡± ¡°Mmm.¡± The camraconda hiss-hummed. ¡°Accepting. Acceptable.¡± ¡°I think that should be the motto here. Want to see if we can get Sarah to put that on a sign somewhere?¡± ¡°Work. Wish to coil and drink tea now. Sign later.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said, passing by its friend. Morgan just nodded and followed. Both of them weren¡¯t even really ¡®supposed¡¯ to be down here. But the break room on this floor had the *good* sugar. And both of them had been through enough of an ordeal lately, they felt like they earned it. _____ James snapped into existence outside the door to a hospital room, and elicited a startled yell from a passing nurse. ¡°Sorry!¡± He said, flushing in embarrassment, glad that his face mask blocked most of that detail. ¡°That¡¯s literally never been a problem before!¡± ¡°Wh.. you! What?!¡± The woman clutched her chest through her blue scrubs, pointing her other hand at him like was a ghost. ¡°You scared the hell out of me!¡± She accused him. ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t really think about it. Sorry, again. I¡¯m just here to pick up my friend, and clear up a bed for you.¡± He jerked a thumb toward the door to the room he¡¯d appeared by, where presumably El was still recuperating. ¡°Kinda thought there wouldn¡¯t be anyone around here?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been *full*.¡± The woman snapped at him, smoothing her scrubs and regaining some composure. It was, James had realized, something that had come up with almost everyone he¡¯d talked to at this hospital so far; even when things got weird, it only took them about thirty seconds to adjust and plow forward. Was there a dungeon here that he should know about, or was this just a medical professional thing? ¡°If this is your friend¡¯s room, then he¡¯s sharing it.¡± The nurse challenged him with hard eyes. ¡°She, and¡­ I suppose that¡¯s fine?¡± James shrugged. ¡°Look, I already talked to the surgeon, I just need to get El to a bed that¡¯s not in your way.¡± Upon hearing the actual patient¡¯s name, the nurse softened measurably. ¡°Alright. I still need to send someone by to do the checkout paperwork, but you can talk to her at least.¡± She slid open the glass door and let James pass first into the room, following after. El was occupying one of two beds that were placed opposite each other, making the already rather tightly efficient hospital room *very* cramped. The other resident, another girl who looked to be about fifteen, was watching El with a sarcastic look as the older girl spoke. ¡°...so then he did something stupid with a dragon, and just sort of¡­ oh, hey James.¡± El nodded at him. ¡°Anyway, the point is, we *didn¡¯t* die, and you can tell, because I¡¯m here, and awake, and hungry, and still haven¡¯t gotten the pudding I was promised an hour ago.¡± ¡°I will have Nate make you some pudding.¡± James promised her. ¡°I would have thought Liz would be with you.¡± ¡°You made up literally all of that.¡± The teenager accused El. James was glad that his toothy grin was concealed as he hissed out a laugh. El shot him a glare, and he just raised his hands. ¡°Oh, hell no. I¡¯m not helping you with this *again*. You¡¯re on your own.¡± ¡°You are amazingly unhelpful. I nearly died for you and this is the thanks I get!¡± El moped as the nurse moved past, checking the pillows and monitors of the younger girl in the room without comment. ¡°See if I get torn up over you next time¡­¡± She grumbled. ¡°Also Liz got checked out yesterday, according to your own chat server. Come on, man.¡± ¡°Are you her boyfriend?¡± The kid asked, staring openly at the visible damage to James¡¯ face. ¡°Nooooooo, no.¡± James laughed ¡°No!¡± El barked out, a little harsher than needed. ¡°Well hang on now!¡± James jokingly protested. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be so mean about it! I could be a *great* boyfriend! Have you considered, perhaps...¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to set you on fire.¡± El cut him off, yelling through the pillow she¡¯d covered her face with. James shook his head. ¡°Sorry, you aren¡¯t that kind of witch.¡± He said regretfully. ¡°Anyway. You ready to get out of here?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I¡¯m gonna need a wheelchair or something.¡± El motioned down at herself, laying in the bed. ¡°Leg¡¯s still¡­ you know.¡± ¡°I mean, you got clawed up, like, three days ago.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯d be shocked if you could walk. But yes, we¡¯ve got a chair waiting for ya back at the Lair. Uh¡­ assuming you¡­ you know, want to¡­ come back?¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I realize we didn¡¯t talk about this much, and I dunno if anyone¡¯s been visiting you here, but¡­ well, you¡¯ve got a place with us if you want, you know?¡± El stared at him. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever been less surprised to hear anything in my life.¡± She said, dropping her head back to the rough hospital pillow. ¡°Also no visitors right now. Cause, you know¡­¡± She waved hand around the hospital. ¡°Anyway. Yes. Get me out of here. I *obviously* don¡¯t know what I want with my damn life, so¡­ whatever. Let¡¯s go, come on. Spirit me back to your anarchist utopia.¡± She held out a hand to him, eyebrows raised expectantly. James stared at her. ¡°You do realize you¡¯re going to have to stand up, otherwise when we blip back, you¡¯ll fall on your ass, right? Also, I keep *telling* people that the Order isn¡¯t specifically anarchist, and no one believes me.¡± He gnawed at his lip under his mask. ¡°I should draw a diagram.¡± ¡°What?¡± The other girl in the room said. Even the nurse paused at the door to look back, though the fact that she¡¯d seen James appear out of thin air made her glance more one of excited curiosity than anything else. ¡°Dammit.¡± El said, struggling to push herself up, and hissing in pain as she tried to move and pulled at the stitches in her side. ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯m alright.¡± She waved an arm at the nurse, trying to keep her away even as the woman attempted to get El to lay back down. ¡°Get off me, I¡¯m not staying here.¡± El practically snarled at the nurse, who just gave an unimpressed stare back. James traded exasperated looks with the other girl in the room. ¡°Has she been a tough roommate?¡± He asked her. ¡°Eh. She¡¯s¡­ fun, I guess. Keeps making stuff up.¡± The teenager shrugged. James took a second to examine the younger girl, and noticed she seemed far, far too thin for her age. Pale, too. ¡°What are you here for, if you don¡¯t mind?¡± James asked her. ¡°Nothing.¡± The girl looked away. James turned toward the nurse, who just shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not violating HIPAA rules for someone who just came in here to rile up a patient.¡± She snapped, before turning back to El. ¡°Now *lay down* or I will call security!¡± El, still struggling, sagged back panting for breath, and gasped out at James, ¡°She¡¯s here for chemo.¡± James tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling tiles. ¡°Of course she is.¡± He muttered. ¡°Nikita¡¯s getting too fuckin¡¯ smart, huh?¡± He gave the nurse a resigned look, and she replied with an alarmed expression on her face. ¡°Whatever. Here, kid.¡± James pulled his good hand out of his coat pocket, and tossed a purple orb over to the teenager. ¡°And a pile for you. One for you, the rest for anyone here for cancer treatment, kay?¡± He held out his hand, and the nurse reflexively accepted as he poured a handful of orbs into her palm. ¡°Careful with those. Justine tells me they¡¯re worth ¡®basically all the money¡¯. And I¡¯m pretty sure we hired her to know that kind of thing.¡± He looked down at the bed. ¡°El, I¡¯ve got things to do today. You getting up or not?¡± ¡°She is¡­!¡± ¡°I¡¯m up, I¡¯m up.¡± El rolled off the side of the bed, ripping off several monitoring wires taped to her chest. ¡°God, you fight *one* crazy wizard and everybody assumes you¡¯re a fuckin¡¯ superhero.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡± James agreed, offering her a hand. She took it, and a second later, there was a snap as two humans worth of space emptied out of the hospital, accompanied by a yelp of shock. Leaving behind an awe struck nurse staring down at the bounty in her hand, and a young girl crying in relief as her body started to repair itself for the first time in years. Then they arrived back at the Lair, and El fell on her ass anyway. _____ Clutter Ascent welcomed James with an intensity of warmth he hadn¡¯t known was possible. It was like¡­ like waking into the kitchen on Christmas Eve after taking a golden retriever through a long walk through the snow and smelling cookies in the oven. He didn¡¯t know how the attic had captured that feeling, but then he realized that the feeling was just a fragment of the whole thing. The Attic was projecting something much deeper, and James was just feeling his own memory resonate with it. ¡°That¡¯s really cool.¡± He whispered as he stepped up to the top of the ladder. On his shoulder, Rufus nodded in agreement. The landing at the entrance to the dungeon was as cluttered as ever, the attic really living up to this name. Cardboard boxes, stacks of board games that were assuredly missing pieces, bushels of old garden tools standing up in buckets, sheet covered dressers and cupboards. It was a riot of faded colors, wood tones, and dusty cloth. But every time he was here, James always seemed to find something that caught his eye. ¡°...Is that a *stuffed camraconda*?¡± He asked no one in particular. ¡°Whaaat. That¡¯s adorable!¡± He spoke in a hushed, excited tone to his companion as he found one of the pathways through the piles, and started making his way toward his destination. The attic was *technically* still a dungeon. But James had a hard time feeling any amount of tension as he moved about here, anymore. It was just too safe, too welcoming. And that would have made it the perfect *trap*, honestly, except instead of a trap, it spawned things like excitable rain clouds and blanket forts, and whatever the hell Fredrick was. So while it did actually have challenges, most of them weren¡¯t dangerous at all, and the challenge of navigation was more a matter of spotting the occasional sign that had been posted around, or following one of the many, many sunsets shining through what was rapidly becoming a variety of different styles of window set high against distant walls. And it wasn¡¯t long weaving through chipped old furniture and boxes of tangled light ropes that James, still with Rufus riding on his shoulder, came across his destination. It was a semicircular cleared area, pressed up against a wall and right under a window that beamed purple and orange sunset light down onto a loosely disturbed pile of blankets. There was a coffee table in the middle of the space, covered in multiple game boards and a clutter of various pieces that would make the dungeon proud. Rufus shifted his weight and clicked a question, and James was reminded that his first dungeon friend had actually gotten quite a bit heavier as he tipped sideways. Rufus clicked wildly as he slid and tumbled, but James deftly caught him and set him down on the table, grinning sheepishly at the frantically waved sign gestures the stapler made at him. ¡°Sorry, sorry!¡± He apologized. ¡°I¡¯m still a little wobbly. Sorry.¡± James softly settled himself down into the blankets, smile turning more natural as Rufus bobbed in acceptance of the apology. ¡°So, this is where I last met him.¡± James said to the stapler. ¡°I think he has some kind of dungeonsense, so he should be here eventually. Kind of skittish.¡± The two of them were here because James had asked his stapler friend if he¡¯d be interested in meeting the strange rat-gecko-spider hybrid creature, whom Sarah had gleefully named Fredrick Umbra Armillary the First. And Rufus had¡­ well, Rufus had thought for a long time, but eventually said yes. The stapler spidercrab was not blind to what James was attempting here. There was an impulse for dungeon life, as far as he was aware, to view humans as alien, and in a lot of ways scary. Though that might just be him, because he was *very* small compared to the human friends he¡¯d made. But he *had* made friends, and he was a living proof of concept to any other dungeon¡¯s denizens, that coexistence was not only possible, but welcome. Also he had a suspicion that James and Alanna and possibly also Sarah had conspired to try to get him to make more friends. Which was¡­ fair, really. He¡¯d been spending a lot of time on his own silent, lonely project lately. And while he and Ganesh operated well as a pair, they didn¡¯t spend a lot of time together casually these days. Similarly, human friends could be hard to talk to, especially when they were constantly rushing around to this or that crisis. And the thing Rufus came to realize was¡­ he didn¡¯t mind that. He didn¡¯t mind the idea of meeting new friends, crafted creatures like him, from other places. Maybe with similar lives, who could understand what he¡¯d been through. For sure, there were human parallels, but it wasn¡¯t quite the same. So he¡¯d said yes. And here he sat with James, waiting on a coffee table and trying to deduce how the sprawling game in front of him was played without a rulebook, or any sense of logic to its layout. And when the other creation, Fredrick, materialized out of the shadows, hummed a greeting at James, and settled in after accepting a bag of pistachio nuts as payment, Rufus started to think that maybe James wasn¡¯t just tying to get *him* to make friends. ¡°This is Rufus. Friend of mine.¡± James said, waving a hand down at the stapler. Rufus politely raised a leg in greeting, and watched as the scaled muzzle and beady gem-blue eyes of the creature across the table locked on him and froze, before Frederick lifted a furred limb out from under the cloth cape bound around his back and waved back. James noticed that the small creation was hiding half his limbs, but he didn¡¯t draw attention to it. Instead, he and Fredrick dove back into whatever game they¡¯d been playing while Rufus watched and pieced together rules, and James explained what had been going on lately. ¡°Problem was,¡± James eventually said, rolling a chess pawn in his hand and not focusing on the board, ¡°problem was we were just too late.¡± He said with a sigh. He still hadn¡¯t made a move, and Rufus, with growing confidence about the rules, inched a piece forward for him. Fredrick¡¯s eyes met his across the table, and he gave a nod, the motion slipping his hood back a little to reveal another set of eyes that widened in alarm before the small creature pulled the cloth back down. Rufus didn¡¯t mention it. He didn¡¯t want to be rude. But he had too many strange friends these days to find this new one at all scary. So instead he made another move on the board, and matched back and forth with the scaled not-monster until James snapped out of his morose mood and noticed. ¡°Oy! You¡¯re gonna cost me points!¡± He exclaimed. Rufus just looked up at him with a disbelieving eye. ¡°Okay, well, *I* was gonna cost me points too, but I wanted it to be my fault¡­¡± And a few minutes later, after they¡¯d all lapsed into a comfortable quiet, Fredrick opened his muzzle after moving a piece, and asked, ¡°Bringing them home?¡± His voice wavered, like he was uncertain about using it. Rufus was honestly a bit jealous that he had been made with a voice at all. ¡°Home¡­ here?¡± James asked, and shook his head in response to Fredrick¡¯s nod. ¡°No, no. We¡¯re going to help them find their own homes. Or recover the ones they lost. It¡¯s hard. There¡¯s a lot of people who need help, and even then¡­ we didn¡¯t save everyone.¡± ¡°Help?¡± Fredrick asked. ¡°Help finding a home.¡± James explained. ¡°Getting back on their feet. Recovering.¡± But Rufus had heard the real question in the word. He wasn¡¯t asking what help was. He was asking how *he* could help. Rufus decided he liked Fredrick. There came a point when James leaned back, and just started watching, as Rufus and his new board game opponent played against each other. And then, when James excused himself and headed off with a smile and a promise to have someone check in with Rufus later. And then, it was just the two of them. And Rufus watched with curiosity as Fredrick seemed to completely drain of tension when James left, relaxing and rustling under his cloak. He made a series of gestures. You know, he asked of the amalgamation, he really doesn¡¯t care what you are. Fredrick answered back with his own motions, either because his voice wasn¡¯t meant for conversations, or because he was just more comfortable this way. I don¡¯t want to upset him, Fredrick said. Rufus rolled his eye, not needing to move to make the message clear. You¡¯re upsetting him more this way; he¡¯s worried about you. The other dungeon creation kneaded scaled paws in front of the clasp to its cloak. Anxiety. Fear. Emotions, not words with meaning. Rufus changed track. Gestures around them, looked up at the window with the false sunset coming through. Gave a curious look at the seated Life across from him. What, he asked, is this place? And Fredrick didn¡¯t have a gesture for it. So he spoke a word that he¡¯d heard the humans use before. That he felt, in his bones, was right. ¡°Home.¡± He answered. Tapping at his head, Rufus jabbed a leg toward where James had left. Think, he encouraged. Think about *that human*. The one that just spent half an hour wishing he could have protected more people. You think he cares what you look like? Or do you think he¡¯d just see a home that needs protecting? Fredrick¡¯s fidgeting stopped, as the dungeon Life really did think about it. And then, with a nervous motion, he unclipped his makeshift cloak, and pulled the hood down. Three extra rows of eyes, colors fading from blue to red, but never losing that glittering shine, stared at Rufus. And with a relieved stretch, Fredrick unfurled his other four long furred spidery legs from behind his back, and moved them into comfortable positions around himself. Rufus nodded. Held up his own extra forelegs to show that he, too, had an advantage in limb count over the average human. They were *large* yes, but they didn¡¯t have enough *legs*. Then he tapped at the table. Now, he signaled to his new friend, I think its your turn, and I¡¯m finally starting to understand why I¡¯m losing. ______ James knocked on the open door to a small office space near the front of the building. It had originally been *his* office, before a series of complicated magical steps had stapled a floor of a skyscraper to their elevator access. Then it had been more or less repurposed as a place to shove their new FBI liaison, and after their *first* FBI liaison had been shredded by heavy machine gun fire, the space had been cleaned up, large parts of the front area had been remodeled, but this little extra space had remained. And so, rather than turn it into a closet or something, they¡¯d put a better desk in there, and given it to DeKay. ¡°DeKay.¡± He nodded curtly at the woman behind the desk as he walked in. She wasn¡¯t actually seated, instead she was standing bent slightly over as she arranged objects in a sturdy grey briefcase. ¡°Lyle.¡± She replied without looking up at him. James just watched her in silence as she shuffled around whatever it was she was packing. ¡®Whatever it was¡¯, he almost snorted at the thought. He knew almost exactly what it was. It was, in large part, why he was here. And also why he¡¯d awkwardly left this conversation for the last thing he did today. Eventually, the woman looked up at him, and James was almost certain he saw the spectral form of the infomorph she carried flicker around her eyes. ¡°Can I help you with something?¡± She said. Taking a deep breath, James gave a small shake of his head. ¡°What are we gonna do with you, DeKay?¡± He asked quietly, and watched her tense noticeably. ¡°Stealing magic, plotting sabotage, what did we ever do to you aside from invite you in?¡± James sighed. ¡°Is that all this is about?¡± DeKay asked, trying and failing to cover up the stress in her voice. ¡°Wow, not even a denial. And that sentence *super* implies that you¡¯ve been doing more stuff I¡¯d hate too, so nice job.¡± James shifted his feet to a casually guarded stance in the doorway. ¡°Think of them as already paid for.¡± DeKay suggested bitterly. ¡°You charge enough for your services, after all.¡± James shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not charging *you* though. Come on, what the hell is this?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, what?¡± The agent asked, suddenly *angry* in a way James hadn¡¯t really seen from her before. ¡°You thought no one was going to notice you? That you¡¯d coast by under the radar because anyone with enough power to stop you would be blind to all the alien mindwarping bullshit you have here?¡± DeKay jabbed a finger toward James. ¡°You are a *threat*. To this country, to its people, to its *government*. And you¡¯re a fucking idiot if you think you can just do whatever you want and get away with it.¡± With raised eyebrows, James let her yell, and then when she was out of words, let the quiet take over. ¡°Anything else?¡± He asked. ¡°Any more flimsy justifications for the preemptive suicide notes you¡¯ve been writing for people?¡± ¡°How¡­¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± Now it was James¡¯ turn for anger. ¡°Just¡­ shut up.¡± He closed his eyes. Let the simmering fury in his chest subside. ¡°I¡¯m here to tell you that you are no longer welcome in this building, agent. You will be leaving now.¡± He tried to keep his words calm as he spoke. DeKay stared at him. ¡°Your organization¡¯s relationship with the Bureau¡­¡± ¡°Is *over*.¡± James informed her with a hiss. ¡°There is no relationship with you, or your government. Your presence here is no longer required.¡± ¡°You¡¯re making a mistake.¡± DeKay told him, shifting to lean forward on her desk, hands curled into claws on the cluttered surface. She met his eyes with a razor sharp gaze of her own. ¡°I¡¯m always making mistakes.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s about time we corrected one.¡± ¡°Your little ¡®Order¡¯ won¡¯t last.¡± The fed told him, lashing out. ¡°Your stupid ideology is disruptive and dangerous. You need to be stopped *now*.¡± ¡°Jesus Christ, again with the ideology thing.¡± James almost slumped back against the doorframe. ¡°DeKay, our ¡®ideology¡¯ is basically just ¡®look at available statistical data and try to do our best¡¯. Hell, even JP does that, and he¡¯s the closest person here to *your* apparent ideology. Also he¡¯s a way better spy than you, so good job there I guess. Fuck, your petty little obsession with controlling things-¡° ¡°Controlling threats is my *job*!¡± DeKay yelled at him. James didn¡¯t rise to the emotional bait, just kept his voice level, if a little shaky. ¡°Control¡­ ugh. Control is what we strive for so we can stop being afraid. It¡¯s great, when you want control over your health, or your food supply, but get much bigger than that and it starts to turn violent. Dangerous, to use your word. No, no. I¡¯m done being scared. We¡¯re building something better. And you could have been part of it, but you¡¯re still jumping at shadows.¡± James looked away. ¡°Get out, DeKay. And come back when you¡¯re ready to face the world with courage, and not the gun in your hand.¡± The gun in her hand was literal, not a metaphor. She was leveling it at James, having plucked it off the desk like it was a secret and he hadn¡¯t noticed it five minutes ago. ¡°I could kill you now.¡± The look in her eyes was wild. Almost feral. James stared at her, not bothering to even rise from his position braced against the doorframe. ¡°First of all, no you absolutely could not.¡± He started. ¡°Second of-¡° The agent tried to pull the trigger. And found that her finger would not move. Nor, in fact, would any other part of her. ¡°Red light.¡± A synthesized voice came from just above the ceiling tiles, where Frequency-Of-Sunlight was peering through a small gap. ¡°*Second of all*,¡± James continued, ¡°what the *fuck*, lady? That¡¯s your answer to everything? Gun in hand, threats and violence? I changed my mind, don¡¯t ever fucking come back. Christ on a bike. This is the real world, not an action movie. You don¡¯t need to shoot everything.¡± DeKay didn¡¯t reply. Instead, she was busy reaching out with her mind. Connecting to her infomorphic companion, the old greedy assignment spinning to life as she promised him an equal share of the spoils of war after they- ¡°That Which Is Owed To Me.¡± James solemnly addressed the flickering green spectre that was building around DeKay¡¯s arms. ¡°Good to see you again.¡± He didn¡¯t make a move to flee or fight, instead saying. ¡°When we first met, I let you go. Gave you a second chance. A favor is *owed*, and I am calling in that marker.¡± James calmly reached over the desk and spun DeKay¡¯s briefcase around, plucking one of the hundred or so telepads she¡¯d packed into it out, and quickly shredding the first five pages before scribbling an address on the last one. ¡°What do you say? Call it even?¡± James asked, holding up the telepad. In her mind, DeKay screamed defiance. But it didn¡¯t really matter; camraconda¡¯s weren¡¯t a test of will, they were a test of whether you brought a friend along. And Debt¡­ well, Debt was a lot of things. But he always paid his own dues, and at the end of the day, Tiffany DeKay had been a far better home than his previous ¡®owner¡¯. The infomorph manifested a single spined hand, and plucked the telepad away from James. Debt did spare several seconds of longing look at the packed briefcase, but his gaze was drawn back to James when the young man held up a roll of bound green bills. ¡°Here.¡± James said. ¡°A gift, just for you. As thanks.¡± He gave Debt a smile. A *real* smile. ¡°You know, you¡¯re welcome back here. Even if she¡¯s not, okay?¡± Debt made another few hands, snatched the money. And gave James a tentative thumbs up. But paused before tearing the telepad. With a voice like clinking metal, he told James, ¡°Tiffany wants you to know, this is not over.¡± ¡°Nothing¡¯s ever really over.¡± James smile turned sad. ¡°Not until a hundred years later and a few dozen history books.¡± He sighed, then blinked once. ¡°I mean, except for her having an office here. That is absolutely over. See you later, Debt.¡± ¡°And you.¡± The infomorph spoke one last time. And then, with a snap, DeKay was gone and the green spectral form with her. James stared at the now empty office for some time, before he sighed again and went to walk away. But a rustling overhead caught his attention. ¡°Halp.¡± The camraconda¡¯s voice came down from where she had wedged herself in the ceiling. ¡°Plz!¡± ¡°Oh shit, right! Hang on Frequency! I¡¯ll get a stepladder. Oh, and thank you!¡± James called, and rushed out of the room. The best possible solution for him to feeling morose about a hard decision and a confrontation had just presented itself; another crisis that he needed to solve. James figured, as long as the problems kept rolling, he could always keep finding the energy to snap out of his gloom, and go find a ladder. This would be easier if they had a supply closet up on this floor, though. ¡°I¡¯m turning that office into a closet.¡± He muttered, before calling to the assembled front lobby area, ¡°Does anyone know where a ladder is?!¡± No one did, but they got Frequency-Of-Sunlight down in about five minutes with a little bit of creativity and no injuries anyway. Chapter 164 ¡°God has cursed me for my hubris, and my work is never finished.¡± -Brian David Gilbert- _____ ¡°This place has changed.¡± Alanna commented as they pulled into the parking lot of a run down convenience store across the street from the high school. James glanced over at her, waiting for more; he was pretty sure that she didn¡¯t mean the cracked plastic light facade of the Plaid Pantry. ¡°There¡¯s fewer cars. Everyone is just a little more worried. And I see at least two plainclothes cops.¡± She casually arrowed her finger toward the two men pretending to be normal teachers, keeping her arm close to herself so it didn¡¯t draw attention from anyone outside the car. ¡°Yeah.¡± James glanced in the backseat. ¡°I¡¯m surprised they reopened it at all. It¡¯s¡­ this place is just uncomfortable.¡± ¡°Lotta kids died.¡± Sarah said, normal enthusiasm dampened by the words as she held a duffel bag open for Frequency-Of-Sunlight. ¡°No one really ever recovers from that. They should have done more. Moved the kids to other districts, covered costs, actually done more for therapy than getting one semi-mystical woman to cover the whole school. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s *dumb* how the city dropped the ball.¡± ¡°Some of us died, too.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight added, as she curled up inside the duffle bag and shifted her weight to be as even as possible. ¡°I miss my brother.¡± ¡°Hard to have fun in a place like that.¡± James said, shrugging to Alanna. ¡°You ready to go?¡± ¡°Should we actually be doing this?¡± She asked. ¡°Don¡¯t the dungeons sort of mimic the mood of the place? Or am I over committing to something I heard a Research girl say?¡± Leaning over the backseat, Sarah draped her arms around Alanna¡¯s shoulders and gave her a series of rapid pats. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. We¡¯re here now, to cheer everything up!¡± She said with a determined smile. ¡°Also the dungeon *sucked* to begin with, so it¡¯s not like it could get that mu-¡° ¡°*Red light*!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight yelled at Sarah from the gap in the duffel bag. ¡°Yeah, holy shit, do not finish that sentence.¡± Alanna flicked the temporarily frozen Sarah on the nose as she cracked her door open and got out, stretching her legs on the parking lot pavement while the others followed. James grinned as Sarah pitched forward into the Alanna-sized gap before scrambling out and hauling the camraconda sneaking spot with her. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go. Anesh and Deb should be waiting for us. Technically, we have permission to be here, but there¡¯s no need to spook anyone more than before, so¡­ let¡¯s not waste time.¡± They didn¡¯t. A brisk walk across the school¡¯s front driveway, to a double door that was at the bottom of a side ramp, was all it took to get them into the building. Normally the door would be locked, but Anesh was already there, having been let in by Lua before the main group had arrived. If any of the students spotted them, none of them said anything. But it was also late August, and the only kids here would be for summer clubs, remedial classes, or attempted graffiti. So the barren front parking lot was probably easier to ¡®sneak¡¯ through than it would be when they had to do this during the school year proper. ¡°Hey.¡± James greeted Anesh with a lithe kiss on the cheek as he led his group into the building. ¡°How¡¯s the Sewer doing?¡± ¡°So, to fill you in on what Lua shared; the dungeon has exactly this one entrance. But if left unattended for more than a week, it starts to send out small creatures. We¡¯ve caught a few on camera - they¡¯re the little rat things - and pretty much all they do is steal stuff or break things, then run back to the dungeon.¡± Anesh let out a sigh. ¡°It was mostly by accident, but since we know it isn¡¯t too bad after a week now, Reed¡¯s asked us to ¡®reset¡¯ the place, then wait for it to do it again, so we can get repeat data.¡± Cracking his knuckles, Anesh led the rest of them around the corner and down the ramp that went too far under the building. ¡°I think he¡¯s gonna ask us to keep waiting, at some point, and I¡¯m a *bit* bothered, because this is probably the one dungeon we shouldn¡¯t be experimenting with, unless we can clear out the school.¡± ¡°Yeah, absolutely not.¡± Deb nodded to them as they approached from the bottom of the ramp. She was leaning against the wall, eyes never really leaving the battered blue metal security door set into the otherwise normal brick wall that the ramp ended at. ¡°Hey guys.¡± She offered them a wave. ¡°The school¡¯s cop says hi, James.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that guy!¡± James gave an appreciative nod. ¡°I think we can probably recruit him, if we ask nicely.¡± ¡°Do we¡­ is that a thing we¡¯re doing now?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°You have a noted dislike of the police. Wait, hang on, *I* have a noted dislike of the police! Everyone here has been shot at by the police at least once!¡± James shook his head and made a tutting noise. ¡°Yes, but if they join *us*, then they aren¡¯t *the police* anymore. Keep up, slowpoke.¡± The group didn¡¯t waste much time, instead keeping up the light banter as they passed through the door and into a space out of a horror film. The lobby of the Akashic Sewer was the same kind of stained and rusted space it had always been; a couple flickering red lights casting a dark glow over sharp concrete walls and an uneven floor with a few sticky metal grates in it. They found a clear space here, and set to work inventorying what the dungeon had taken from them. ¡°Armor¡¯s still good.¡± Anesh said, checking his duffel bag. ¡°Staves are here too. Staves? Staffs?¡± ¡°Sticks.¡± James answered, taking the offered body plate and slipping it around his torso. ¡°Ugh. The smell here is burrowing into my eyes.¡± ¡°Frequency¡¯s here too.¡± Deb said, unzipping the bag that held the camraconda and giggling as her partner shot up to flick a serpentine kiss over her lips. ¡°Arms, too. Maybe the place thinks of it as a prosthetic?¡± She pulled out the set of mechanical arms that Research had constructed for the camracondas, and helped Frequency-Of-Sunlight into the harness, tightening straps and adjusting for comfort before adding the plug to the connector the camraconda had affixed to the back of her neck. ¡°Battery¡¯s good for an hour and a half. Feel good?¡± The set of manipulators unfolded from Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s back, four arms, all with two major joints for mobility, and a basic gripping tool on the end. This was still an early prototype that was being updated frequently as the engineers working on the project tried different styles. This one was trying to cover for the lack of actual stable lifting power with more flexibility. Frequency moved the arms a few times, before carefully reaching up and ruffling her girlfriend¡¯s hair. ¡°Yes.¡± She stated. ¡°Sarah! Here!¡± The camraconda turned, offered and received a high five. ¡°Hm. Needs work. But can feel them. Should test purples with them.¡± Frequency stated, as Deb helped her fit a transparent camera cover over her eye before seeing to her own goggles. ¡°That, or a book. Which I¡¯m hoping we can get for you today.¡± James said, assisting Alanna into her armor before strapping on a filter mask. ¡°Anything actually missing today?¡± ¡°Nope. Looks like it¡¯s all here. Sample cases are secure, too.¡± Anesh confirmed, standing up and shouldering the bag, now with the two other bags emptied and packed into it. ¡°Your glasses, too.¡± He handed a pair of dungeontech glasses from the Office to Alanna - one of the first sets they¡¯d found, that let someone see in infrared. ¡°Let¡¯s get to it?¡± The other five nodded, and together, they moved into formation and headed down the open hallway. The yawning dark sewer tunnel greeted them like an irate ex. Immediately, the piping underfoot became a navigation issue, as the uneven tubes were sometimes slick with condensation. James and Alanna took point, and had small flashlights pointing forward in the webbing on their armor, while in the middle of their group, Frequency-Of-Sunlight carried two larger maglights in a pair of her hands, keeping them as steady as possible on the walls around them as she slithered. Overhead, the ceiling closed in at odd times. The chaos of different sized pipes sometimes leading to large, almost organic looking bulges in the faux ceiling that required the human portion of the party to duck under them. As they moved, they had to navigate around the occasional steady drip of some bizarre liquid, or step carefully over a jagged rent in the floor below them. ¡°This place has changed too.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Way more attention to detail. I hate it.¡± She stated with a stomp of her boot that eliminated a skittering fist sized green roach thing. A pathetic red spark jutted out of the corpse under the foot, and up into the palm of her hand. ¡°It¡¯s getting better, I guess.¡± James muttered back. And then he paused as his voice echoed off the walls, and something scratched overhead in response. ¡°Sst.¡± He hissed back at everyone, holding out an arm to Alanna. The group waited, tensed up, as the scratching on the metal and ceramic pipes escalated and shifted, before suddenly a chunk of one of the pipes almost right overhead shattered outward. If James hadn¡¯t insisted on masks and goggles for everyone, it might have been a problem. It might have been a *serious* problem, as a shard of ceramic stopped about a half inch from his eye, buried in the protective plastic. The thing that dropped out of the gap was far less of a problem. A howling rat-shaped creature roughly the size of a small dog. It had wiry fur, and a gaping, sucking crater in its chest that glowed with a cherry red heat. It also silenced itself and froze midair as Frequency locked onto it. Then Deb, mid panicked yell, nailed it in the neck with a metal pole, slamming it into the wall where Alanna landed a second hit on it with her own staff, smashing its skull in. A spray of red, both blood and sparks, jutting out of it and painting the pipes, and hands, of the participants. ¡°Ow.¡± James said, plucking the ceramic shard out of the eyes of his goggles. ¡°Yup!¡± Alanna declared vehemently. ¡°Still hate this place!¡± She glanced over at Deb, who was bent half over, clutching her chest and panting as the adrenaline wore off. ¡°You alright? Need a minute?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± The other woman replied. ¡°This isn¡¯t something I do often.¡± ¡°You¡¯re in the Office every week.¡± Anesh spoke quietly, no one seeing his raised eyebrow in the dark of the surrounding pipes. Deb¡¯s glare was highlighted by one of the flashlights Frequency was carrying, the thin whir of motors as she moved her adapted arms around drifting through the air near them. ¡°Nothing in the office has *ichor*, Anesh.¡± Deb gasped out. ¡°Or *any of that*.¡± She jabbed her staff toward the corpse. ¡°I mean¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t ruin it for her.¡± Alanna cut James off. ¡°We ready to keep moving?¡± They were, and they did. Making decent time considering the poor footing and number of roaches they had to keep smashing. It wasn¡¯t long before they came across something out of the ordinary. The pipes in front of them splayed out, and if they hadn¡¯t had lights on them, they might have not noticed until it was too late. The pipes, both above and below, took sudden ninety degree angle turns. The ceiling was suddenly so high overhead they may as well have been outside, and the floor¡­ well, the floor was gone. In front of them was a thirty foot wide pit, with pipes like organic vines making a thin rim of walkway around the edge, and just an empty hole in the center of the room. Frequency-Of-Sunlgiht pivoted her flashlights down toward the empty space, and was rewarded with dots of light playing off the walls, but when she angled them deeper, there was just¡­ nothing. ¡°Bottomless pit.¡± James commented, like this was something he saw every day. ¡°Neat.¡± His voice was dryer than chalk dust. ¡°This is new.¡± Alanna said, standing next to him. ¡°You didn¡¯t warn me about this!¡± ¡°We haven¡¯t seen this before.¡± Anesh said. ¡°The dungeon is growing. Won¡¯t be long before it¡¯s more than just a straight line to the exit.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Gentrification gets everyone, I guess.¡± ¡°Snark is James¡¯ role.¡± Frequency told him. ¡°Look. Liquid.¡± She tilted a manipulator, and pointed a flashlight toward the middle of the pit. Sure enough, there was a thin streamer of some kind of fluid cascading down. The bottom, if there was one, so far away it wasn¡¯t making a sound. Anesh had already unzipped his bag when Deb spoke up. ¡°I know you wanted to take samples. But, uh¡­ how?¡± She inched out toward the ledge, holding onto the slick pipes around the walls as best she could. ¡°That¡¯s gotta be ten feet out. We don¡¯t have ten foot long sticks.¡± ¡°Damn, my D&D experience should have prepared me for this!¡± James quipped. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Anesh considered. ¡°We could get Frequency to freeze a pole midway over the¡­¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± The camraconda spoke up. ¡°No. Bad.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m with her.¡± James agreed. ¡°There¡¯ll be other strange fluids. Come on, let¡¯s get going. We still have to skirt this thing.¡± He sighed, looking out over the pit. ¡°Is this a bad time to say I¡¯m terrified of heights?¡± ¡°Everyone is terrified of heights.¡± Deb muttered. ¡°Everyone who says they aren¡¯t is terrified of telling the truth.¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna pretend that¡¯s a medical diagnosis of humanity. Alright, I¡¯ll go first. Catch me if I fall.¡± James rolled his shoulder, adjusting the position of his armor slightly before he took a cautious step. And then another. He mostly just clung to the wall, didn¡¯t look behind him, and shuffled his feet with as little lifting as possible. The pipes under his feet weren¡¯t exactly wet, but they were thin, and there were only two or three, none of them easy to stand on. Behind him, he heard movement start as the others began to follow, single file, but James didn¡¯t look back. Just kept his eyes forward, and kept moving. Until he hit the problem. ¡°Hey!¡± He called back, stopping as his fingers found something strange in the harsh glow of his flashlight. ¡°Door here!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t fucking open it!¡± Anesh yelled from behind him. ¡°I *know that*¡± James replied. ¡°I just wanted to warn everyone!¡± He slid past the door, doing his best to not touch the handle, which still sensed his passing and offered him a glittering red ¡®ten¡¯, the cost in stolen life force to pass. The door was a smooth metal, almost clean compared to everything else down here. He was another five feet past when the scream came from overhead. Something, something *his* size, shot down past him, leaving a terrifyingly unstable trail of disturbed air behind it. James didn¡¯t see what it was, but he heard Deb and Anesh yelling behind him, and more importantly, he heard the screeched word of whatever had just dive bombed him. ¡°Trespasser!¡± It squaked at him in a voice that sounded like it hurt just to use. There was a muffled thump, and then everything was quiet again. ¡°Missed it!¡± Alanna called out. ¡°I opened the door!¡± Anesh¡¯s voice was less panicked than it would have been if the door had been full of problems, so James relaxed a bit. ¡°I¡¯m gonna fall back to the back, clean this one out. It¡¯s just a closet, nothing moving!¡± James inched his foot forward, desperately trying to avoid looking over his shoulder, and mostly failing. He was ten feet from the tunnel¡¯s exit, not quiet exactly on the other side as the entrance. And all he had to do was not fall. Straining his ears for any sound of something else falling from the sky at him, he crept forward bit by bit, until finally, his hands met only air and he pitched himself forward into the empty tunnel. ¡°Oh thank god, *ground*.¡± He sighed, and started to relax, until the dungeon reminded him of where he was and an inhuman arm, dripping clear slime and pretending to be part of the pipes of the wall, unfolded one of its dozen joints and tried to wrap long, dangerous fingers around his throat. James¡¯ staff clattered to the ground as he brought his hands up to catch the thing; his still-not-fully-healed fingers held askew as he tried to keep them away from anything that was going on here. He kept himself from freaking out, despite not being able to let go or risk letting this thing kill him. Instead, he just matched his strength to it, and held on without protest. Right up until Alanna slid around the edge of the pit, saw what was going on, and started snapping emaciated elbows with her own staff. Going down the line until the arm stopped moving, and a flow of red poured into her palm. ¡°You take me to the nicest places.¡± She told James as she helped him up. ¡°Hey, is my memory still effed up, or have we never actually gone on a date that didn¡¯t involve punching?¡± ¡°We went out for a nice coffee that one time.¡± James said, trying and failing to not sound defensive. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s kind of bad. Wanna go on a date?¡± He asked. ¡°You¡¯re adorable.¡± Alanna said, moving him aside to make room for Deb and Frequency, the nurse helping her camraconda friend stay stable on the ledge. ¡°And yes, but we should invite Anesh.¡± ¡°Invite me where?¡± Anesh asked, ¡°We¡¯ll tell you later. Ready to keep going?¡± James asked. ¡°Yeah. Did this place get bigger?¡± Deb asked. ¡°Looks like.¡± James looked down the tunnel ahead of them. ¡°How¡¯d the room go?¡± He asked Anesh. ¡°Fourteen green bits.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Enough for at least one book. Got lucky.¡± James sighed, and regretted it as the smell refreshed itself in his nose. Even through the mask, it was like rotten eggs and stale piss was just the *least* offensive atmosphere down here. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go, and try not to tire ourselves out. We still have a job to do here.¡± So they kept moving. Dealing with the occasional suicidal rat, ignoring any doors that Alanna couldn¡¯t peek through with the infrared glasses she¡¯d brought, and generally just trying to avoid touching anything. Once, Sarah felt like something fell into her hair, and they spent about ten minutes making sure there weren¡¯t brain worms trying to burrow into her skull or something. It was, probably, a false alarm. But no one wanted to screw around here. A few times, Anesh stopped them to fill sample vials with the liquids from the pipes where there were breaches he could get to. The strange blue goo that was easy to spot by its glow, the alarmingly radioactive green sludge, and at one point, a substance leaking out of the end of a pipe hanging overhead that appeared to be a perfect facsimile of sloppy joe meat. All of them, *especially* the last one, went into sealable lead cases. Just in case. Twice they opened doors to rooms they could look into, and confirm were empty. Anesh and Sarah answered the violent questions on the walls, and harvested the sparks. When they came to a familiar dirt floor, air full of spores and an actual choice in which direction to go, Sarah filled Alanna in on the changes the dungeon was making here while Anesh took another sample, and the rest of them stood guard. There didn¡¯t seem to be anything hostile here, *yet*, but no sense taking chances. And in that weird soil and mushroom cavern, just off to the side from the exit point where it turned back into a concrete floored tunnel, the group spotted a carved out space where the floor had been turned into a moat of that blue goo, and in the center of it, a thin platform with a pedestal on it sat. ¡°Alright, so, what does that *do*?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°We didn¡¯t poke it last time.¡± James said, staring at it. ¡°It looks like a trap.¡± ¡°I want to poke it.¡± Alanna stated, nodding to herself. ¡°Well, we do have six people here.¡± Sarah said, elbowing James in the armor. ¡°Should be safe-ish?¡± ¡°I honestly have no idea why you¡¯d think that. But you know what? Go for it.¡± James adjusted his grip on his weapon, and turned to the others. ¡°Frequency, eye on Alanna please. Deb, Anesh, take that side. Sarah and I will watch the exit. If anything comes out of the dirt, someone yell, if anything comes from past that weird trap, *you* yell Alanna.¡± James waited as they got into position, Sarah standing next to him with an eager bounce. ¡°Curious about this too, eh?¡± He asked, and she just gave a happy nod. ¡°Alright. Hit it, Alanna. Please don¡¯t fall in.¡± Before he¡¯d finished the last sentence, Alanna had taken three large steps and leapt across the small moat, landing nearly perfectly on the dirt pillar in the middle of it. Stabilizing herself slightly, she pressed a gloved hand down into the misshapen depression on the pedestal. James risked a glance over his shoulder at her, and caught the tail end of a light show. A small swarm of purple sparkles, dancing in the air, before vacuuming into Alanna¡¯s hand. And then, nothing happened. ¡°Nothing happened!¡± Alanna called out. ¡°Just purple sparks. What are those even for?¡± She asked, turning, and shoving off in a standing leap to fling herself back over to solid ground. ¡°We¡¯ve never seen those before.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡°So that¡¯s kind of cool. If that actually wasn¡¯t a trap, we should be on the lookout for that now.¡± He sighed. ¡°Assuming we don¡¯t figure out how to just bury this place.¡± ¡°This place is useful.¡± James reminded him. ¡°This place is vile.¡± Deb added. ¡°Vile and useful.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving. We should be almost there, unless the pattern is really getting shaken up.¡± The group reformed their marching positions, and moved on. They didn¡¯t talk much, everyone getting quieter as they approached their destination. The concrete floor, now smooth and free of pipes, echoed the steps of their heavy boots, and the air cleared up a little bit, the scent of rot fading slightly. When they could see the orange firelight ahead of them, the arena that guarded the exit, they stopped. Gear that wouldn¡¯t help in the fight, like Alanna¡¯s glasses and Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s arms, were stowed back in the bag. A pair of thermoses were brought out, and reflex enhancing coffee was shared around with all of them. One final check of the armor was done. And one final personal check, too. ¡°You sure about this?¡± Alanna asked James. ¡°Yeah.¡± He answered, instantly. ¡°Because you were right when we talked earlier. I¡¯ve been¡­ looking at this wrong.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± She said, giving him a side hug as best as they could while armored up. ¡°Just¡­ remember I could be wrong, too, okay?¡± ¡°Well, let¡¯s go find out.¡± He said. And stepped forward into the ratroach court. As always, the space felt more like a basketball court than a bloody arena. Somehow. The wire fence around the edge, the ¡®scoreboard¡¯ overhead that was really just a collection of endlessly burning torches - James made a mental note to steal some of those - and as always, the ratroaches. A hundred or more in the stands, drawn from *somewhere*; they never seemed to appear in the dungeon itself. All of them mismatched, with jutting extra limbs, scabs and matted fur, and eyes that oozed infected pus. They screamed as the party entered, a single lusting cry for blood, for violence. And in the court itself, on the rough gravel, three ratroaches stood waiting for them. ¡°You are baaaaak!¡± The one in the middle let out a screeching laugh. She towered over the other two now, changed again since the last time James had seen her. She was almost seven feet tall now, fur and chitin almost seamlessly blended together. The lines of the infection at the joining points were a pale pink, almost a color accent in spiral swirls, rather than a poison red. Her third arm was now more aligned, positioned under her primary right arm, and looking strong enough to support rather than just get in the way. The two ratroaches to her sides had similarly changed, but they eyed the approaching humans and camraconda with somewhat less violent relish; one of them was wider, with a fourth and fifth thick arm jutting from its back, while the other seemed to have narrowed in frame, grown thicker dark shell and an extra joint in its legs. ¡°I have whaited!¡± She yelled. ¡°Do yhu come to taaalk again?¡± ¡°So, here¡¯s the thing.¡± Alanna said, toeing the line of the bloodied gravel court as the others fell into a wedge position around her. ¡°James thinks he¡¯s helping you when he does that. And he¡¯s probably not wrong. He¡¯s a good guy, but he misses things sometimes, you know? He sees you people down here, and he thinks to himself ¡®Oh, such a tragedy!¡¯¡± Alanna swooned, putting the back of a gloved hand to her forehead. ¡°¡®I must broaden their horizons, break their chains, offer them a true choice!¡¯ And, okay, sure. Good job James. You¡¯ve offered a choice to something that doesn¡¯t understand what choices are. Cool.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t sound like that.¡± James grumbled next to her. ¡°But also yeeeah, I do that.¡± The ratroach in the center of the field hissed at her, a wet sound that flung droplets of blue spittle out from her cracked maw. Alanna ignored it, shaking out the muscles of her calves. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing.¡± She said again. ¡°James wants to treat you like peers. And you aren¡¯t. How old are you? A year? Two? No. He looked, and saw people his own size, with language dripped into their heads that they don¡¯t fully understand, and he decided you were making poor choices. And what everyone missed? Is that you are *children*.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice had no warmth in it anymore. It was iron, and it was simmering anger. Not toward the ratroaches, the back two of whom had paused, and were sharing glances with each other, but toward this *place*. This nightmare sewer that had created kids, and forced them into this non-life. ¡°You¡¯re just kids.¡± She whispered, mostly to herself. ¡°Scared, trapped, *abused*, kids. And you don¡¯t look at a victim of child abuse and *ask them if they want to stop being abused*.¡± Alanna snarled. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°I ahm not a *victim*!¡± The ratroach in the middle screamed back. ¡°I, I, I¡­ I fight! I kill! I worship happily! Hyu think hy I am too *new* to be who I am! But I khhham *complete*!¡± She shifted her feet, drawing furrows in the gravel floor, and hefted the spear in her right arms, a wicked looking spike of shaved rusted iron. ¡°Hey.¡± James said, interrupting. The ratroach pivoted her head, and fixed her multiple eyes on him. ¡°You can be as much of a monster as you want. But she wasn¡¯t talking to you.¡± And then, the ratroach froze, as Frequency-Of-Sunlight *also* locked her gaze on the creature. The other two tensed up instantly, as James stepped forward, the gravel crunching under his feet. There was something *wrong* with the vast majority of the ratroaches here. With most of the life forms, really. In a way, they reminded James of the feral staplers in Officium Mundi; they weren¡¯t really made to be people, and even if the potential was there, it was a long road between your average freshly minted strider, and someone like Rufus. With enough time, enough effort, a random monster could eventually become a person. But it did take time, and they didn¡¯t stop trying to kill you between then and now. And here, in the Akashic Sewer, the issue was amplified a hundredfold. The ratroaches were made, *designed*, to be violent. To be angry. To be *in pain*, all the time, and to worship the dungeon that made them like a god. James suspected that there was no amount of time that would actually turn a random ratroach into a person. Even a shitty person, that he could at least politely ignore from a distance. But, beyond the one or two hundred random mashed together ratroaches in this room, there were a few that *had* changed. That had pushed past what they were, somehow. Whether it was through dungeon given gifts, or some strange magic down here, or just a natural part of their life cycle. They¡¯d changed. And of the three, he¡¯d only made the offer to one of them, and that one had been the one trying to actively murder him. ¡°I¡¯ve been ignoring you two.¡± He said to the vanguard ratroaches. ¡°Even though you¡¯ve both been growing. I can see it, in your eyes. And, you know, the rest of you.¡± James paused, as the two ratroaches moved around him, like they were planning to flank him. Behind him, his friends stayed back, but were ready to move if needed. ¡°Alanna¡¯s mostly right.¡± He said. ¡°But I still think asking is important. So I¡¯m going to ask.¡± He glanced to his side and met the eyes of the larger ratroach, the one with too many arms. ¡°Would you like to leave? You don¡¯t need to let her turn you into a weapon. You can go, right now. We have somewhere safe, and somewhere a hell of a lot more free than here.¡± The ratroach stopped, like it was thinking about it. Then it did something James hadn¡¯t actually been expecting. It walked around behind the white one, and settled two of its three-digit hands onto the shoulder of the other one. The two of them staring at each other for a second, before turning back toward James and the others. The smaller one opened its mouth, and pointed at its throat, only soft wordless whines coming out. ¡°Can fix that.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said. ¡°They are good at fixing things.¡± ¡°I think we can also fix a lot of the pain you¡¯re probably in.¡± Deb added, though she didn¡¯t look at them, she was busy scanning the teeming crowd around the chain link fence. The other ratroaches starting to shift, their cheers having gone silent as they watched, slowly getting more agitated. ¡°Guys, we might need to move soon.¡± She said quietly to the others near her, tightening her hands on her staff. Perhaps also sensing the way the less upgraded ratroaches around them were turning hostile, the two still cautiously watching James linked two of their hands together. Their other hands dropping weapons to the floor with a scrape of metal on rock. And then, together, they nodded. ¡°I had really hoped you¡¯d say that.¡± James gave them a relieved smile. Then he turned just enough to call over his shoulder. ¡°Deb! Telepad!¡± The young woman was already moving, the destination of the containment rooms in the basement of the Lair having already been written in. It wouldn¡¯t be a permanent home, but it would be somewhere they could quarantine the two until they were sure it was safe. Then, with a wet hiss, the shorter one lunged forward toward James. If he hadn¡¯t been on high alert, dosed up with magical coffee, and also just a heavily modified human, the motion might have surprised him. But in his current state, James just pivoted, and did what the ratroach was planning to do himself, and casually plucked the thrown knife out of the air. The ratroach in the stands that had thrown it screamed at James. The ratroaches around him screamed at the rest of them. They were here to witness blood, violence, and death. Not this. ¡°Deb!¡± ¡°On it!¡± Deb slipped past James, follows by Sarah, and the two offered their hands to the ratroaches, one a little nervously and one with a beaming grin. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± She said. The two of them gave the girls a curious look, but took the offered hands all the same. Possibly the first time any of their species had ever done so. Then Deb tore the page, and they were gone. ¡°Now, for *you*,¡± James turned on the white ratroach, still frozen in the middle of the court, ¡°well shit. I mean, Alanna¡¯s not wrong. You¡¯re just a kid. But you¡¯re not a victim, are you? And there¡¯s only so many chances on offer. So we¡¯re¡­¡± A pair of ratroaches jumped the fence, and sprinted toward James. Anesh caught one of them and Alanna hit the other, driving the unthinking creatures into the ground with sprays of blood ¡°James! Monologue time is over!¡± Anesh called, as more ratroaches started scrambling over each other to climb the chain link. He sprinted for the bank of damaged lockers, intent on using the green sparks he¡¯d collected, while James and Alanna moved to flank Frequency-Of-Sunlight as the camraconda started rotating around the most dangerous foe on the field, heading toward the other side of the court and the exit door waiting for them there. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been fun!¡± James yelled, slapping a thrown spear out of the air with his own staff. ¡°Sorry you didn¡¯t get a real fight!¡± He had to raise his voice to be heard over the increasing screamed volume. Ratroaches tumbling to the ground, breaking their own limbs and opening cuts in their skin in their rush to try to break Frequency¡¯s line of sight. ¡°Anyone else want a free ride out of here?¡± He yelled, before one of them dove to try to knife the camraconda he was blocking for. ¡°No? Alright, fuck off!¡± James wasn¡¯t interested in playing fair anymore, and he took the legs out from under a charging creature before whipping his staff around to crunch into another one¡¯s midsection with a wet snap, a trio of purple orbs that boosted his speed in some way stacking to let him hit way harder than he should have. ¡°Anesh!?¡± He shouted. ¡°All good!¡± Anesh ran back toward them, ducking just enough that when Alanna flung her staff in a spinning motion over his head, it took out the ratroach trying to grab him. ¡°Go!¡± ¡°Go faster!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight added, as a dozen ratroaches interposed themselves between her and the white one, their leader letting out a zealot¡¯s bellow of rage and frustration. James turned and shoved the security door¡¯s bar, noticing with some concern that it drained fifty red sparks out of him to do so, and held it open for the others. Then they were back in the high school. The door clicked shut behind them, and the only noise left was hissing panting through the filter masks, and James giving a nervous laugh as the adrenaline wore off. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Yeah. Good call.¡± ¡°Still think we should have taken Gretchen too.¡± Alanna said. ¡°But I get why that might be a bad idea.¡± ¡°...Mean Girls?¡± James asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± Anesh pulled his mask off, and took a steadying breath. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen that movie.¡± He said. ¡°Is it good? You reference it a lot.¡± James and Alanna traded a look. ¡°We should watch Mean Girls.¡± James decided. ¡°Maybe as some kind of date.¡± ¡°But first, let¡¯s get back and check in with our new friends.¡± Alanna said. ¡°No, first, book!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight reminded them. ¡°That one.¡± She stated, not indiciating which of the three books Anesh was holding she meant at all. Anesh looked down at the stack of bound paper in his hand. ¡°This one?¡± He asked, offering one to her. ¡°Good enough.¡± The camraconda agreed, taking it in her fangs and gently setting it on the floor before flipping it open. A second later, the book dusted away into nothing, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight looked up at them. ¡°History!¡± She declared. ¡°This will be easy! All history is new to me!¡± ¡°I love how enthusiastic about that you are.¡± James said with a smile. ¡°Want any podcast recommendations?¡± ¡°James all your podcasts are really weird deep references to a million things.¡± Alanna reminded him. ¡°Also can we get out of here? Standing around a school basement in body armor is making me feel weird.¡± ¡°Good call. Podcasts later.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight started up the ramp before the others, trusting the faster humans to catch up. ¡°Sounds like more of a threat than the dungeons.¡± She said, synthesized voice unable to truly mutter, but still doing a great impression of it. _____ ¡°How are you adjusting to things?¡± James asked Jeanne. The two of them were sitting in the dining space, James enjoying the constant flow of knights and aspirants as they shared a quick meal. Somewhere nearby, Ava had discovered that Anesh could change colors like a chameleon, and was busy trying to make that happen as often as possible. Possibly so she could steal the technique. ¡°It¡¯s... a lot!¡± Jeanne said with a tired smile. ¡°Not in a bad way! But¡­ this place. These people are¡­ really something else, James.¡± ¡°Yeah, that sounds about right.¡± He agreed, looking down at the salad Nate had handed him. He could have sworn he¡¯d asked for a sandwich. Was Nate trying to put him on a diet? James was pretty sure the chef didn¡¯t have that authority. ¡°But are you doing okay?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Jeanne sighed. ¡°It was¡­ please don¡¯t laugh, but it was fine when we were life or death, you know? When I had to adapt, or my daughter died, I could handle anything. But now we¡¯re safe, and my brain just isn¡¯t letting me catch up to the teleporting rescue teams or the snakes with camera faces, or *how much* magic you have here.¡± She looked at him with a sharp stare as she pointed up at the windows. ¡°There¡¯s sunlight coming through windows that are physically blocked off from the outside! That¡¯s not normal!¡± ¡°Frankly, I¡¯m kind of surprised you went with the small lighting quirk and not the multiple overlapping basements.¡± James admitted. ¡°You seem to be taking it well, though.¡± Jeanne sighed. ¡°Ava loves it. That¡¯s all that matters. She¡¯s gone from looking forward to seeing her grandma to being sad she has to leave her new friends for a couple days.¡± She shook her head, but didn¡¯t lose the smile. ¡°She¡¯s never been happier. I think she wants to trade me for Sarah as her mom.¡± ¡°Sarah would *not* make a good mom.¡± James chuckled. ¡°Or¡­ well, maybe she would, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s in the market. Besides, she makes a better weird aunt.¡± He bit into a chunk of cucumber and spoke around the bite of food. ¡°But how are *you* doing?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Jeanne looked away. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°Wow, that was so obviously a lie even I noticed.¡± James said. ¡°Spill.¡± Jeanne looked down at her meal, like she was considering if she could time bites of food just so she wouldn¡¯t have to speak. But then, decided against it, and talked. ¡°I¡¯m having nightmares.¡± She admitted. ¡°Ava and I need to go home eventually. But¡­ I¡¯m having nightmares. I¡¯m scared to go outside. How am I supposed to be anywhere but here? It¡¯s weird, but it¡¯s also probably the safest place on the planet, right?¡± James shrugged. ¡°We hope so. Probably not though.¡± ¡°But here is where I feel safe.¡± Jeanne said. ¡°Or at least, where I can pretend there aren¡¯t any monsters. We tried to go on vacation, and I nearly got my daughter *killed*. How am I supposed to let her out of my sight? Let her go to school, or leave her home while I go to work?¡± A trio of Order members a couple tables over burst out laughing at a joke, and Jeanne flinched at the noise. ¡°I¡¯m trying to hold it together, but there¡¯s just too much, sometimes.¡± ¡°Have you talked to a therapist?¡± James asked quietly. ¡°I¡¯m not the best at it, but we have staff therapists. Sarah *is* a good listener if she has time. But Texture-Of-Barkdust, or Lua or Connie if you¡¯d prefer a human face, are trained professionals.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need *therapy*.¡± Jeanne protested. ¡°I just need¡­ well, I don¡¯t know what I need.¡± In the back of the lunch room, a pair of alerts went off from a pair of knight¡¯s phones. The human and camraconda pair leaving their lunch and rushing to the Response deployment, the dining area getting a bit louder as the people who noticed cheered them on. You could tell which of the two was new, because the cheering caused the camraconda to awkwardly duck her head, while the human part of the duo just smiled and moved past. James waited for things to quiet down before answering. ¡°Therapy isn¡¯t a bad word.¡± He told Jeanne. ¡°Especially for things like this. You¡¯ve had your *memories* violated. That leaves painful holes that you need to explore. Ava too, honestly, though she might not have the same problems because of Hidden. I *still* talk to Connie every other week if I can. It¡¯s not bad to get help, you know?¡± ¡°I.. you do?¡± Jeanne looked surprised. ¡°I kind of assumed you were more of the standard macho hero type.¡± James looked at her, then looked down at the Cowboy Bebop tee shirt he was wearing. Raised a hand to check and make sure he still had a two foot long ponytail. Looked back at Jeanne. ¡°What about *any of me* makes you think I¡¯m some kind of figure of masculinity?¡± He asked, incredulously. ¡°You get in a lot of fights?¡± ¡°I resolve half my fights by making friends with whatever is trying to kill me!¡± James protested. In his pocket, his own phone buzzed, and he checked the message he¡¯d just gotten. ¡°Look. Connie has some free time, since we¡¯ve gotten the majority of the Townton survivors stabilized in new homes. Talk to her, please. I¡¯ve gotta go.¡± ¡°Another emergency?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no, not really? Someone just accidentally spawned a very specific model of server in our basement, and Reed is asking for help moving it.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°So¡­ probably okay?¡± Jeanne stared at him. ¡°You know, sometimes I think this place just has drugs in all the food.¡± She stated. ¡°Impossible. I¡¯ve barely touched my salad and I¡¯m sharing this hallucination.¡± James told her. ¡°Also we *do* have drugs here, they¡¯re just in the basement, and before you ask, *no*, obviously we¡¯re not giving your daughter drugs. Give me *some* credit.¡± ¡°Go deal with your waiter problem and stop loitering.¡± Jeanne huffed at him. ¡°And yes, yes, I¡¯ll talk to a therapist. Tomorrow, though.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already messaged her to drop by and say hi.¡± James said, looking up from his phone. ¡°Have fun. And server like a computer thing, not like waitstaff. Later!¡± He slid out from the bench he¡¯d been sitting on, and pivoted around the camraconda who was getting practice with their mechanized set of arms as an actual waitstaff server. ¡°Thanks Spire! Appreciate it!¡± He called back as he walked out of the dining room. Always something to do around here. James was lucky Sarah had a proper sleep balance, because if she didn¡¯t share naps with him, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to keep his eyes open for the past three days. _____ James and Alanna stood side by side, looking down over a field of carpet that blew like grass in the false wind of Officium Mundi¡¯s massive air conditioner units. They were at the top of a tower, the kind of tower that was the only place they could find the magical coffee that ran their duplicator. Behind them, Daniel yelped in pain as Anesh carefully wrapped a bandage around his ankle. ¡°You knew what you were getting into!¡± Anesh admonished him. ¡°Misadventure my ass¡­¡± Alanna cracked a smile, not turning around. ¡°You know, I kind of feel like the misadventure thing is a bit underrated. They¡¯re never lethal, right?¡± ¡°I think they *could* be?¡± James said, leaning forward on the ledge of the hole in the tower to look down at a quill dog rustling through the grass. ¡°It¡¯s weird. I¡¯ve actually got a map like Daniel¡¯s now, but it¡¯s not exactly alive. I want to actually go on the journey it offers sometime, maybe see if I can emperson it. Also it¡¯s supposedly to a good burger joint. But it hasn¡¯t told me if there¡¯s any misadventure¡¯s in the way. Maybe it¡¯s¡­ like¡­ a mana cost of sorts?¡± ¡°Weird way to price things.¡± Alanna snorted. ¡°Like, what does one sprained ankle get you?¡± ¡°Well, technically, I don¡¯t think the boss fight counts as the misadventure.¡± James said, eyes flickering over to the dead paper pusher. ¡°I¡¯m actually pretty sure that¡¯s just Daniel getting hit. This has come up before. With me.¡± Alanna gave him a sharkish grin. ¡°Did you get hit by something?¡± ¡°Can of soda.¡± James did not elaborate further. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re good here.¡± Anesh said behind them. ¡°Alanna, wanna help me search the tower?¡± He extended the offer, casually leaving James to pair off with Daniel. Anesh noticed James¡¯ amused expression, and stuck his tongue out at him as he followed their girlfriend down one of the ramps. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, we¡¯ll get a good ten bags of coffee from this.¡± He said as they vanished down into the stacked cubicle tower. James wandered over to where Daniel was busy testing his foot, and patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much about it.¡± He said. ¡°Anesh isn¡¯t actually mad at you. And you¡¯re still, like, the most valuable person for this dungeon, hands down.¡± He shrugged. ¡°No pressure or anything.¡± ¡°I know, I know.¡± Daniel sighed. ¡°It¡¯s mostly fine, honestly. I like feeling useful, and Path likes going places, so this works out. It¡¯s just¡­¡± ¡°You wish it weren¡¯t so dangerous?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh, no. That¡¯s fine.¡± Daniel brushed off James¡¯ attempt to understand him, apparently oblivious to how much different his view on the dungeon was to just a year ago. ¡°No, what¡¯s bugging me is, why are we *here*?¡± ¡°Like¡­ here, back in the carpet grasslands of Officium Mundi, one of the more threatening biomes we¡¯ve found so far? Or here in this tower, full of magical coffee that powers our attempts to tell cancer to fuck off? Or¡­ that¡¯s all I¡¯ve got.¡± James admitted. ¡°Just here, I guess? I don¡¯t know why Pathfinder told me there was something here.¡± Daniel said. ¡°It¡¯s a tower.¡± James stated. ¡°We¡¯re trying to map all of these.¡± He shook his head and blinked, trying to get his tired eyes to focus properly. ¡°I kinda figured that¡¯s why you led us here.¡± ¡°No, see, that¡¯s the thing. Path is *still* telling me there¡¯s something here. Specifically here. And it¡¯s not the second projector, either.¡± Daniel looked over at the device that looked like it would be right at home in a normal middle school classroom; maybe a slightly newer model than the one they had in their home base tower that duplicated matter. They¡¯d found instructions for a different ritual to make it work, and absolutely no information on what it did. They were in no hurry to test it today. That would be a job for Research, in the future. Daniel looked back and continued. ¡°And she¡¯s not talking to me, like a person. I¡¯m just getting the background impression. Like there¡¯s a problem and a target all at once, and it¡¯s right here.¡± James looked around. ¡°We cleared the tower.¡± He said. ¡°There¡¯s nothing nearby, I can see that there¡¯s, like, a few of the quills down there on the ground. But we aren¡¯t about to be ambushed by something huge unless it¡¯s invisible.¡± He hummed. ¡°Weird.¡± ¡°Sorry, I know it¡¯s hard to believe, but¡­¡± ¡°We¡¯re in a magical infinite office. Chill.¡± James told him. ¡°I believe you, I just don¡¯t¡­¡± Somewhere, maybe two floors of cubicle below them, a phone started ringing. ¡°Um¡­¡± Daniel looked at him with a worried expression. ¡°That¡­¡± James was already moving, sliding down the ramp, and trying to lock onto the exact position of the sound. From below him, he heard Anesh and Alanna also calling upward with similar sounds of surprise. But they¡¯d gotten pretty far down, and James found the phone first. It was sitting on a desk that had already had its drawers tossed open, buried in a lopsided cubicle in the middle of the tower¡¯s floor, where the light didn¡¯t penetrate much. The ringing guided James close to it, but it was the blinking red light that really highlighted it. The phone was one of those older multi-line corded office phones, that were basically everywhere in the nineties. James only paused for a couple seconds to wait for everyone to get a little closer to him, before he answered it. ¡°Hello?¡± He spoke down the line. ¡°The wheel turns.¡± A distorted young girls voice came through from the other end. ¡°The crash is averted.¡± James gave a small smile as he recognized the voice and speech pattern of the road dungeon, which they had collectively dubbed Route Horizon. ¡°Yeah, thought it might be you.¡± He said. ¡°Glad we could help. Hey, maybe, as a thank you, tone down how lethal you are?¡± If the dungeon heard him, or cared, it gave no indication. ¡°The sun dips on the horizon.¡± The girl that wasn¡¯t a girl told him. ¡°Too much fuel burned. Low on everything. Asleep at the wheel.¡± In his head, James made the connection the dungeon was trying to get across; it had done too much, and it was going to take some downtime. What that meant, he didn¡¯t know, but it would be interesting to see what a sleeping dungeon was like. The others found James all at once, Anesh and Alanna stepping aside to let Daniel limp into the cubicle next to James. James could see him coming, and could see why his partners let Daniel approach first; Pathfinder¡¯s wavy orange Fata Morgana form was lighting the air around his shoulders. ¡°James!¡± Daniel gasped out. ¡°Can¡­¡± He just waved a hand around him. ¡°Hey,¡± James spoke down the phone, ¡°your daughter wants to talk to you. Do you have a minute for that?¡± There was a *pause*, and James could feel emotional ripples of shock and confusion from the other end, and then... annoyance. ¡°This is a solo route.¡± The girl¡¯s voice said, like it was trying to pretend to be a trucker. ¡°Watch the lines. No tampering with the cargo. Ten four. Out.¡± And then, a click, and the line went dead. ¡°Uh¡­¡± James looked down at the silent phone in his hand, and then up at Pathfinder¡¯s eager form. ¡°She¡­ it¡­ hung up.¡± He said. Pathfinder seemed to dim a bit, swirling around Daniel slightly. Daniel huffed a breath, and tilted his head to listen to his partner before looking back to James. ¡°Dungeons can¡¯t really talk much, huh?¡± ¡°I¡­ it¡­¡± James didn¡¯t know how to phrase what he had heard. ¡°I think¡­ it doesn¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t think it cares.¡± He felt his voice go rough as he tried to say the last part. ¡°...Oh.¡± Daniel said. Around him, Pathfinder stopped moving, stopped the swirling motion, and just¡­ sagged. Dimmed and faded, back into the background. ¡±Oh. Well. That¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°Wow, what a fucking shitty parent.¡± Alanna said bitterly, breaking the awkward painful conversation like a hammer through plate glass. ¡°Hey Path, if you want a better mom, I could legally adopt you.¡± She said. Daniel answered for his friend. ¡°She was just¡­ so excited. That¡¯s why she didn¡¯t say what was here. She was just excited to talk to¡­¡± Alanna leaned back against Anesh, unsure of what to say. James wasn¡¯t sure either, but he held a hand out to where Pathfinder generally was. ¡°Hey.¡± He said, mind racing to find the words he needed. ¡°I know there¡¯s no replacement for the family you had hoped for. But everyone in the Order likes you, and we¡¯re here for you if you need to talk. I don¡¯t know how exactly that works for you, but we can figure it out. And if it makes you feel better right now, you¡¯re welcome to drag us into some kind of misadventure where I get dropped into one of those ink pits as recompense for not handling that conversation right.¡± There was a flicker. A spark orange and yellow. And then, a small whorl of light came back to life around Daniel¡¯s arm. ¡°She says thank you.¡± Daniel passed on. ¡°Also the misadventure on the way back apparently involves a lot of running. So that¡¯s nice to know.¡± ¡°James, you¡¯re the kindest person I know.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°But I¡¯m letting you know in advance, I¡¯m blaming you for the running.¡± He sighed. ¡°Go load the coffee and stuff into the cart. Let¡¯s see if we can beat the problem if we run *fast* enough.¡± A thin orange wisp flickered between the four of them, and he heard what could only be Pathfinder¡¯s bubbly giggling echoing through the air. _____ ¡°Bill, I¡¯ve had a long week.¡± James wearily mumbled. ¡°My partners are waiting for me, and I haven¡¯t technically slept in three days or actually *showered* in a day and a half because of the dungeon time dilation. And I still have to be up tomorrow to go do a recruiting thing, *and* check out the Townton progress. What¡¯s up, and can it be fast?¡± ¡°Funny you should mention showering¡­¡± Bill started with a broad grin, not bothering to contain his enthusiasm. James shook his head, trying not to smell himself. ¡°No it isn¡¯t, I promise.¡± ¡°Follow me.¡± Bill laughed as he turned and headed to one of the stairwells. ¡°We need a cargo elevator in this place, by the way. Or some kind of magic thing. That¡¯s not really my department, but I¡¯m sure you can come up with a magic thing.¡± His boots made echoing concrete thumps on the stairs as he led James down into the basement. ¡°Moving the materials was the hard part.¡± ¡°Hard part of *what*?¡± James was more confused than concerned. Honestly, the idea that he should be concerned at all hadn¡¯t really entered his head. ¡°Is this going to be some kind of giant bed? Because I¡¯m okay with that.¡± ¡°Not quite, though we are working on designing camraconda nesting spaces.¡± Bill admitted, apparently oblivious to the fact that maybe he was as immersed in the magic as anyone else. ¡°Though it is a giant something.¡± ¡°Bill, please.¡± James rubbed his eyes. ¡°I am so tired.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll like this.¡± Bill promised, walking ahead through the decorated concrete corridors of the residential floor. James didn¡¯t really have the energy to argue, so he just followed, taking a couple more turns and one really long hallway that he¡¯d only been down once or twice. Until, eventually¡­ ¡°Isn¡¯t this where the gold vein was?¡± James asked as they came to a door at the end of an intersection that looked like it was carved out of soapstone. And, more importantly, to where a pair of Anesh and Alanna were standing around. His partners grinned at him as Bill led him to the door. ¡°Did something *weird* happen again?¡± James asked. ¡°Again?¡± Both present Aneshs asked. At the same time Alanna snorted. ¡°Like it ever stopped.¡± ¡°So.¡± Bill said with an attention grabbing clap of his hands. ¡°Turns out, some of the greens aren¡¯t permanent. But Karen had me and Jim excavating kind of a lot of this space looking for more gold before we¡­ you know, you don¡¯t need to know. Point is, we had a big open, structurally stable, space, and a bit of free time.¡± ¡°You liar.¡± James accused him. ¡°Where did you find free time?¡± Bill glared at the interruption. ¡°Also it turns out you can make a remodel go pretty fast when you¡¯ve got a few toys that let you cheat. *And*, when you I think on purpose hired the best plumber in the state.¡± He stepped past them and pressed both hands on the double doors. ¡°Anyway, my kid really likes Harry Potter, so if you wanna blame someone for the design, it¡¯s her fault.¡± He gave a push, and the doors slid smoothly open on oiled tracks. The room beyond was like something out of a fantasy. And that was kind of impressive for someone like James, who could say that about most of the places he visited on a weekly basis. But this fantasy, in particular, would have been one from someone who had spent the last three years looking at home improvement catalogues, drooling over color swatches, and dreaming of the time they owned a home and had an infinite budget to screw around with. The space was roughly the size of an Olympic swimming pool, with rounded off corners and a slightly rough white stone making up the floor in what looked like an unbroken single piece. And the swimming pool comparison was apt, because the center of the space was a sunken basin, full of clear water, divided into four quarters by a river stone wall through the middle. Overhead, a seemingly intentional maze of copper plated pipes fed into waterfalls and drains, the piping sharing space with orange, red, and blue lamps that cast shimmering lights across the whole room. The walls, largely taken up by colorful tile mosaics - the first one James saw was of a *very* familiar looking stapler - also held hanging racks and what looked like heated towel holders. A few parts looked mismatched, like the white wire baskets around the pools, or the not quite finished mount points for what would obviously be faucets in the future. But¡­ ¡°You built the bath from Harry Potter.¡± Alanna breathed out, eyes glittering with excitement. ¡°There¡¯s a few technical things you might appreciate.¡± Bill said, pointing around the room. ¡°We¡¯ve got different heating controls for each section, and there¡¯s a raisable barrier in the middle for privacy. Still workin¡¯ on the atmosphere settings, but we¡¯ll get there. Piping for soaps and stuff is in the works, too. Modeled a lot of the pool design off Japanese hot springs. Onsens?¡± Bill pronounced the word like he¡¯d read it, but never said it out loud. ¡°Uh¡­ what else¡­ oh, you know that brooch Knife wears around?¡± James rolled that sentence over in his head for a minute. ¡°Knife-In-Fangs? I¡­ refresh my memory.¡± ¡°The thing purifies food. Turns out, it counts water as food.¡± Bill shrugged. ¡°Got a copy made, hanging on the wall over there, it¡¯s our main cleaning tool. Zero-chemical waters.¡± He pointed to one of the bare walls. ¡°Left a couple spaces for future art. I¡¯m not much of an artist.¡± ¡°Rufus seems to disagree.¡± James grinned at the mosaic of his strider friend. ¡°Eh. It¡¯s kind of a mess.¡± Bill rubbed the back of his head. ¡°Anyway. It¡¯s not *done*, still haven¡¯t set up changing areas, we probably need some safety features and all that, but¡­ well, it¡¯s done enough, and you looked like you could use a break.¡± ¡°When did you¡­ how did you *do* all this?¡± James marveled, stepping into the warm and wet room. ¡°I was gone for a *week*!¡± ¡°Well, people were asking for showers when I first got here.¡± Bill said. ¡°So a few of the other new hires and me decided to make ourselves useful, you know? Also I dunno if you know, but time is kinda messy around here. Also it¡¯s kinda scary how much you can get done when you¡¯ve got camracondas to hold stuff in place while you run pipe.¡± Alanna practically ripped her shirt over her head, causing Bill to rapidly turn back toward the door and clear his throat awkwardly. ¡°James! Bath!¡± She excitedly yelled. ¡°It¡¯s perfect!¡± Anesh chuckled, the two of him stepping past Bill, one of him offering a fist bump that the older man returned. ¡°This is amazing, thank you.¡± He said quietly. James also turned back to shoot the embarrassed man a grin while Alanna threw the rest of her clothes off, and then herself into the nearest pool at high speed, bare feet making slapping noises across the stone floor. ¡°This is the coolest thing I¡¯ve seen today.¡± He said, ignoring Alanna¡¯s bellowed yelp at the realization that she¡¯d chosen a *cold* pool. ¡°And I need you to understand how impressive that is.¡± ¡°Yeah, well.¡± Bill shrugged. ¡°I¡­ ¡°Man.¡± James cut him off. ¡°I¡¯ve spent the last twenty years mastering self depreciation, and the last year trying to break away from that. I know it¡¯s hard, but seriously. You made something awesome, and weirdly fitting for our microculture. It¡¯s okay to be a bit proud.¡± ¡°Heh.¡± Bill shook his head. ¡°Aren¡¯t I supposed to be the wise one? I¡¯ve got more than a decade on you, kid.¡± ¡°Yeah, but *I¡¯ve* been going to therapy.¡± James said, hearing another splash behind him, joyous shouts from his partners catching up to him. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m gonna go enjoy this.¡± ¡°Have fun.¡± Bill told him, tilting his head just enough to show a grin. ¡°Don¡¯t break anything!¡± He said, pulling the doors closed on their tracks. ¡°Pff.¡± James waved a hand. ¡°I¡¯m immune to broken bones!¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean you!¡± The last words caught him before the doors closed. James looked over the overlapping colored lights playing off the water with a smile that threatened to spill over into tears of joy. In one of the pools, rapidly heating up from the dial Anesh had adjusted, Alanna tackled the other Anesh into the water with a splash. The whole place just looked¡­ well, perfect. It was creative, and colorful, copper and stone giving it a burnished and cultured look. It wasn¡¯t done, no. But it would be. And James couldn¡¯t wait to see what it would be like. But until then, he started pulling off clothing, and went to join his partners. He hadn¡¯t been lying when he¡¯d told Bill he hadn¡¯t showered in a day or so, and everyone would probably appreciate it when he made use of some of the soap. Chapter 165 ¡°I walk, I talk, I shop, I sneeze. I¡¯m gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There¡¯s trees in the desert, since you moved out, and I don¡¯t sleep on a bed of bones.¡± - Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Restless - _____ James arrived in Townton with a snap of air, replacing the pleasantly warm and dry end of summer afternoon with a hot and muggy atmosphere so abruptly he felt like he¡¯d been dunked in it. ¡°Welcome to Tennessee, sir.¡± A young man greeted him as he stepped off the marked off telepad arrival platform. James had actually *called ahead* instead of just warping in unannounced, and apparently that was enough to get people calling him sir. He should stop doing that at once. ¡°First of all, I don¡¯t actually hold a rank, you don¡¯t need to call me sir.¡± James told the kid. ¡°In fact, let me cut you off before you argue with me. I would *prefer* it if you didn¡¯t call me sir, alright?¡± ¡°...Alright.¡± The kid relented. ¡°JP wanted me to let you know that he¡¯s waiting for you upstairs.¡± ¡°Thanks. How¡¯s this place going? You doing alright here? I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve met. I¡¯m James.¡± James offered a handshake. ¡®This place¡¯ was, if you just teleported into the middle of it and didn¡¯t ask too many questions, a fairly open plan office floor. Lot of desks, many of them looking like they were bought in bulk for cheap in the 90s, lots of abandoned paperwork, windows with Venetian blinds. James would have been willing to believe he¡¯d blipped back in time, if he didn¡¯t know better, and couldn¡¯t see the damage from the Mechanic¡¯s assault that hadn¡¯t been repaired. If you were paying attention, though, it wouldn¡¯t take long to notice that this place had a lot of unconventional memorabilia on the desks. Maybe a few more security lockers than normal. Informative posters on the walls that went into a weird amount of detail on things like traffic stops. You know, the kind of stuff you¡¯d find in a police station. ¡°We¡¯re doing alright.¡± The kid answered. ¡°I¡¯m Myles. And we¡¯ve met before.¡± ¡°Have we?¡± James felt a sense of both guilt for not remembering, and frustration at his brain¡¯s ongoing breakdown. ¡°Dammit.¡± Myles gave a nervous grin. ¡°Sort of. I mean, I¡¯ve seen you around. You answered some questions about camracondas.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway. It¡¯s going¡­ not bad. We¡¯re making progress. I am *not* the right person for this job though.¡± ¡°Oh? Whyzat?¡± James said, realizing suddenly that he¡¯d been standing waiting for an elevator in a building that didn¡¯t have working electricity for two minutes. ¡°...Also follow me.¡± He said, striking out toward the stairs. ¡°Everything Nate¡¯s been teaching me has been about information gathering. Following, ditching people following me, how to read documents, reading body language, memory tricks, that sorta thing. And now all of a sudden I¡¯m supposed to be some kinda guard? It¡¯s weird. I¡¯ve never even shot a gun before, man. I feel like I¡¯m here by accident.¡± Myles admitted as he followed James, their shoes echoing on the old concrete steps up to the second floor. James nodded as he pushed the stairwell door open. ¡°Yeah, you think that because you¡¯re good at noticing things.¡± He said. ¡°Honestly? You¡¯re here because we haven¡¯t gotten everyone assigned after the rescue, and we need extra hands to do cleanup, and this is a city built for *twenty thousand people* and we¡¯ve got, like, *five*.¡± He sighed, and looked up and down the hallway before Myles pointed in the direction that JP was, nodding thanks and starting to walk before continuing. ¡°I dunno why JP ended up in charge, but I¡¯m guessing he called everyone in just because he trusts you guys to be problem solvers, you know?¡± ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s monsters out there.¡± Myles pointed out in a strained voice. James hissed out a breath through clenched teeth. ¡°Yeeeeah, I¡¯m not saying JP¡¯s logic is sound.¡± He admitted. ¡°Just that he¡¯s working with what we¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°Wait, he trusts us?¡± Myles narrowed his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t tell him I told you. But yeah.¡± ¡°...Why?!¡± James chuckled. ¡°I mean, he did go out of his way to find people who were clever. You don¡¯t need to be able to punch out a monster to be a valuable asset. Like, shit, of the people in the Order we have¡­ fooooour? Maybe five fighters? I mean actual for real fighters, not just survivors of things or exploratory delvers who sometimes get in fights.¡± ¡°...Still haven¡¯t gotten to go on a delve.¡± Myles grumbled. ¡°Really? That¡¯s weird.¡± James commented. ¡°Well, once we get a better handle on this place, we¡¯re going to start making regular runs of Route Horizon. So get in on that!¡± He clapped Myles on the shoulder as they came to a closed door that read ¡®Mark Matthews, Chief of Police¡¯ across the frosted glass. ¡°The magic is pretty fun, though it¡¯s actually annoyingly hard to recharge when you teleport everywhere.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a dungeon here?¡± Myles¡¯ eyes lit up. James just grinned at him, and rapped on the office door before pushing it open. ¡°If you¡¯ve got another terrible thing to report, fuck off!¡± JP¡¯s voice sounded both bitter and overwhelmed in equal measure as James slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m here, so that¡¯s pretty terrible.¡± James announced himself. JP looked up from the map spread across the desk he was slumped over, and for just a second, James saw a bit of how his friend used to be. Excited, like he was happy to see him, and like he had ¡®a plan¡¯, with air quotes and heavily implied sense of foreboding. Then it was gone, and JP just looked tired, like he was unwillingly growing a goatee, and pissed off. Mostly at himself. ¡°James.¡± He said, the word still laced with guilt. ¡°Welcome to my personal hell.¡± ¡°Okay, now *that¡¯s* just being melodramatic.¡± James said, infusing his words with as much levity as he could. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta ask, why are you in charge here?¡± ¡°Nate was busy.¡± JP said. ¡°With¡­ uh¡­ nothing. And so I got stuck with it. And now people just keep reporting to me.¡± ¡°Yeah, that happens.¡± James nodded, looking around for a seat, and finding only the overturned remains of an office. Documents and mementos had been tossed wholesale into a tall cardboard box in the corner, the shelves now held boxes of granola bars, and JP¡¯s armor, and the otherwise bare walls had roughly sketched out agendas and schedules tacked up on them. He knelt down, and braced two stacks of fancy looking legal textbooks against the wall, settling carefully onto them as a makeshift seat. ¡°So. What¡¯s going on?¡± JP eyed him warily. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay to be here?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± James said. ¡°We copied a bunch of the broken bone orbs a couple days ago, and I took enough that even with the diminishing returns, my hand is fine again.¡± He spread his fingers for emphasis with a smile. ¡°I think I¡¯m at, like, four total preventions per year? I mean¡­ not *this* year, obviously. Used em all up already. But I¡¯m good.¡± ¡°Your face still looks like you got set on fire.¡± ¡°Yeah, thanks, I know.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°It¡¯ll heal. So tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just worried, and don¡¯t want to¡­¡± ¡°JP.¡± James put on his serious voice. ¡°I¡¯m not a fucking idiot. You¡¯ve been taking on stuff like this constantly, and avoiding me as much as possible. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, but you¡¯re not talking to me, and now you¡¯re actively trying to refuse help with the¡­ checks notes¡­ city wide reclamation project. Where your staff is *twelve people*.¡± ¡°Thirteen. El¡¯s here.¡± JP told him. ¡°Oh well in *that* case!¡± James threw his hands up. ¡°Can you please get over the fact that you nearly killed me and just tell me what you need help with?!¡± JP stared at him, face rippling between dull exhaustion and mild anger, before settling on bemusement. ¡°What a weird sentence.¡± He breathed out. ¡°Welcome to our lives.¡± James said. ¡°Sorry, I guess. Kinda my fault.¡± ¡°Yeah, no shit.¡± JP pushed himself up, and stretched. ¡°Okay. What do you wanna know?¡± ¡°Progress, issues, and logistics.¡± James said simply, leaning back and tapping his head against the hard office wall. JP nodded. ¡°Alright. Progress.¡± He sighed. ¡°With Dave and Pen doing flyovers, and with the totems Momo gave us, we¡¯re basically positive there aren¡¯t survivors left within city limits.¡± JP said. ¡°So, we¡¯re moving to containment, and cleanup. The main problem is the necroads, which are-¡° James held up a hand, interrupting him. JP just sighed. ¡°Necroad. The term for the bone and asphalt soldier creatures. I apparently don¡¯t have clearance to read the fucking manual, but according to Reed, they shouldn¡¯t be able to multiply. The old man made them using bones with something called the ¡®benediction of the pavement¡¯, and that needed dungeon power to do. So, what we¡¯ve got is what we¡¯ve got to deal with, and that¡¯s a relief. But there¡¯s still a ton of them out there, and holy shit are they fast.¡± He turned to go look out the window at the parking lot, and James noticed that he was limping. ¡°You alright?¡± James asked ¡°Hm?¡± JP looked back. ¡°Oh. Fine.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway. They haven¡¯t been actively hunting. But they do wander around sometimes at random, and they will try to kill anything living. Dave¡¯s been saving raccoons, who are, let me tell you, not super grateful.¡± ¡°So, containment?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. They need the road. Can¡¯t be too far from it, as near as we can tell. Myles is actually useful, despite what he¡¯ll tell you, for figuring shit like that out. We can move safely through the woods around here if we need to.¡± JP turned back to look at his map. ¡°This city has one actual road out of it to the highway that runs nearby, which is fucking great, because the Last Line wrecked it, and in a way that seems to have severed it from maps too, so¡­ you know.¡± James winced. ¡°That¡¯s kind of horrifying. You know, I¡¯ve never been clear on how some infomorphs or, like, general effects like that work. Is he just targeting *bureaucracy*? Or the recorded data? Can that hit memories too? It¡¯s really unsettling.¡± He noticed JP giving him an irritated look and laughed. ¡°Sorry, sorry. Existential dread later, carry on, please.¡± ¡°*So*,¡± JP continued, ¡°they can¡¯t leave the city, and we mostly just try to pick them off when they¡¯re dormant. There should only be about five thousand left. Which¡­ uhhhh¡­ James, there¡¯s twelve of us.¡± ¡°Thirteen.¡± James reminded him. ¡°El¡¯s here, I¡¯ve heard.¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡± JP gave him a welcome grin. ¡°Alright, moving on. Problems. Dungeon¡¯s not making waves, which is good. The only real problem is the necroads, and the threat of anyone figuring out what¡¯s going on here. There¡¯s still, like, shipping routes that are supposed to go through this place. At some point, very soon, someone is going to come to investigate. Memeplex or not, you can¡¯t just disappear a city.¡± He shrugged. ¡°So we¡¯re against the clock, and I honestly don¡¯t think we can move fast enough to make it look like we own this place before it becomes an issue. Do you mind a suggestion?¡± ¡°Sure, lay it on me.¡± James nodded, groaning as he stood to also go look at the map that JP had stuck a lot of little colored pins in. JP set his mouth in a line. ¡°We deal with the monsters, and we leave.¡± He said. Seeing James¡¯ raised eyebrows, he elaborated, but didn¡¯t back down. ¡°I¡¯m not saying we abandon the dungeon, or don¡¯t take as much wealth out of here as we can. But I think we should make it our goal to secure this place and deal with the biggest secrecy risk, and then not push our luck.¡± ¡°...But¡­ territory¡­¡± James gave a puppy dog whine. ¡°Dude, you can¡¯t just claim a chunk of Tennessee as the spoils of war.¡± ¡°Why not? That¡¯s how the US got it in the first place.¡± ¡°...Is that¡­¡± JP cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Is that true? I¡¯ll believe you, I just need to know if you¡¯re serious.¡± James tilted his head. ¡°I actually don¡¯t know exact details, but technically most of the US is the spoils of conquest.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t think we *need* our own city. I just *want* our own city. If nothing else, than as societal proof of concept. But I am willing to accept your recommendation.¡± He sighed. ¡°Alright. Other concerns?¡± Pivoting back to the situation at hand, JP shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re good on food, we¡¯ve been drawing truckloads of stuff from the closest grocer. Actually, the fact that a lot of stuff is going to rot is a big problem. If you could get a blue or green that could handle that, it¡¯d be great. Um¡­ power? We¡¯ve got some generators here, which is part of why we¡¯re using this building and not some random house, but the power is out across the city. Water¡¯s still good. We¡¯re in the water district for the county, and I think the memeplex is working in our favor for once, since no one knows we¡¯re here to shut off the water to.¡± ¡°So what do you need most?¡± James asked. ¡°High caliber guns that can shoot through street.¡± JP said quickly. ¡°Or a rocket launcher? You know how you can technically cut a necroad in half if you use this?¡± He tapped the ornate earring he was wearing. ¡°Well, you get one of those a day, and I¡¯m out. And it doesn¡¯t work on guns. And cutting something in half involves getting close to it.¡± JP looked away and took a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯ve got both the rifles that are bound to gun bangles, and I already checked, so I know we don¡¯t have more bind charges ready to go. Which sucks, because did you know this police station had grenade launchers in it? I mean, it still does, but it used to, also.¡± He paused for James to laugh. ¡°But again, no charges for the bangles to reload them. So we¡¯re limited, and also the police don¡¯t just have frag grenades sitting around. But just¡­ I dunno, can you rob a National Guard base for me?¡± ¡°Probably not.¡± James admitted. ¡°I mean, actually, probably yes? But I¡¯m not gonna. I¡¯ll talk to¡­ um¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°Do we have a gun guy, anymore?¡± James asked sadly. ¡°Nate.¡± JP told him. ¡°Who is busy.¡± ¡°...Did you send Nate to rob a National Guard armory?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t send him anywhere.¡± JP said. James gave his friend a *look*. ¡°Great deflection. You know I¡¯m getting wise to your ways?¡± ¡°Not wise enough.¡± JP replied. ¡°Alright then. More people. There¡¯s a *lot* of work to do, actually. Keeping things from burning down, dealing with cleanup, funeral rites where possible, I need more people. But, like¡­ I¡¯ve been to the Lair. I already know that we don¡¯t have a lot of people available. Response ate up all our good knights.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± James said. ¡°Okay. I have a question for you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be a good fit in your polycule.¡± JP told him. ¡°I¡¯m probably straight.¡± ¡°...Okay, ow.¡± James felt a tension he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding onto relax just a bit, as JP slipped back into old habits of teasing. ¡°No, my question was going to¡­ sorry, probably?¡± ¡°Ask your question.¡± ¡°How comfortable would you be with¡­ problems?¡± James asked, suspiciously. JP glared at him. ¡°Oh, well, when you say it with the ominous tone and that stupid smirk, how could I say no?¡± He demanded. ¡°Sure, bring it on. I¡¯ve got so many problems, maybe if you bring me more, they¡¯ll cancel out!¡± ¡°Great.¡± James told him. ¡°I¡¯ll be back later tonight.¡± He pushed off the desk and stepped back, but met JP¡¯s eyes before turning away and leaving. ¡°Hey. Are we good?¡± JP sighed, the mood in the room dampening instantly. ¡°I have no idea.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what *I* am anymore. I¡¯ve spent almost a week being a *field commander*. James, I missed an invitation to a gala to patrol a perimeter. I skipped poker night to organize search shifts. Is this¡­ is this who I am now?¡± JP looked at James, and James suddenly realized the question wasn¡¯t rhetorical. There was a note of urgency in JP¡¯s voice, something that said that he really was asking for someone else to help him define himself. ¡°You know,¡± James told him, ¡°you¡¯re allowed to be the kind of person who¡¯s annoyed at missing poker night.¡± He tried to offer JP a grin. ¡°You can also be the kind of person that everyone looks up to, because they¡¯re a good leader. Even if they¡­ sorry, a *gala*?¡± ¡°It was an end of summer soiree.¡± JP said sadly. ¡°The opportunities¡­¡± ¡°Do we just not pay you enough?¡± James asked, perplexed. ¡°Not that kind of opportunity, James.¡± JP shook his head, staring off into the middle distance. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand. You¡¯re¡­ domestic, now.¡± ¡°Are you¡­ no, I refuse to understand you.¡± James decided. ¡°Look. I¡¯m not gonna tell you who you are, aside from ¡®a little weird, but also my friend¡¯. You¡¯re on your own there. But you *are* my friend, and you don¡¯t need to camp out in a police station fighting a really weird zombie apocalypse to prove it.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± JP made a noncommittal noise. Then he looked back down at the desk, covered in map markers and granola bar wrappers. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll do it anyway. I¡¯ve got momentum now.¡± He said. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re good. Get out of here. Bring me more problems.¡± ¡°See you tonight.¡± James said, cracking the door just enough to slip out, and giving JP an intentionally ominous cackle as he left. ¡°My smirk¡¯s not stupid¡­¡± he muttered to himself as he shut the door behind him. Then he paused in the hall, pretending he didn¡¯t notice Myles casually loitering, pretending to be checking his phone, about exactly as far away as someone could reasonably get if they had a few seconds of warning before the door they were eavesdropping on was opened. James shook his head, and pulled out his telepad, writing the landing point in the Lair on it, and ripping the page off. He left Tennessee the same way he entered, taking with him only some information, a terrible idea, and an appreciation for the lack of humidity at his destination. _____ James snapped into existence again in the empty bathroom of a hotel room. He hadn¡¯t known exactly where Karen had been keeping the survivors of Townton until he¡¯d needed to ask so he could talk to some of them, but now that he was here, he had to admit that the Crown Royale was a pretty dang nice place. For all that Karen talked a big game about budgets and spending, she still made sure that Recovery did their job with some style. Cutting off his admiring of the glitz in the bathroom, James adjusted his collar and walked out into the hotel suite itself. A set of panicked yells was what greeted him as he closed the door behind himself, as first one person noticed, and then the rest joined in. Four people shouting, and one person by the door who seemed completely unfazed behind his sunglasses. ¡°Yes, hi.¡± James said, mostly just chewing the scenery until they quieted down. ¡°You cannot be this surprised by this.¡± ¡°Where did you come from!?¡± A woman yelled, crouching behind one of the generously sized beds. One of the room¡¯s other residents, a young man who James was *pretty* sure was named Kirk, had interposed himself between James and the others. ¡°I came from the bathroom.¡± James said, like that was obvious. ¡°Also calm down. I¡¯m not here to hurt anyone.¡± He grabbed one of the padded chairs around the room¡¯s small breakfast table, and plopped into it, kicking his feet up onto the end of one of the beds. ¡°Hey Matt.¡± He said, addressing the nonplussed guy by the door. ¡°How¡¯s it been?¡± ¡°Boring.¡± Matt replied. He was standing in a relaxed posture, but the way he carried himself just made him feel like an implicit threat. James didn¡¯t much care for the Response member, mostly because of that vibe of violence he carried with him. Also partly because he seemed to be one of those people that thought wearing sunglasses all the time made them look tough. But he was one of the people who were working as rotating guards for this group, and he was effective at it. James gave him a sympathetic nod. ¡°Well, I¡¯m here to fix that.¡± He said, and turned back to the other four. ¡°How have *you* been?¡± He asked the group of cultists. Well, ex-cultists. These four people, seemingly both the youngest and oldest pair that were part of the cult, were the last remaining members of the Mechanic¡¯s cadre of minions. There had been fifteen of them, initially. Well, initially being when James and Anesh rolled into town. Two of them had failed to apprehend James, due to an Alanna-shaped miscalculation, and had been murdered by the Mechanic when they¡¯d reported back. Four of them had fled from El¡¯s home where they¡¯d been held prisoner during the last fight, and had been promptly killed by the rampant asphalt. One had killed himself afterward. And four had chosen the option that James was *extraordinarily* uncomfortable with, taking the Order up on the offer of Planner¡¯s services. The infomorph surgically taking memories from them, assisted by their own desires, and wiring into their minds small personal routines, and leaving them unaware of their own involvement, their own culpability. Just another group of survivors of a traumatic event, albeit ones who would get over it a little faster than the others. That left four ex-cultists, who still hadn¡¯t decided what they were going to do. And for James, they were the least surprising people to be in that position. Because all four of these people were the ones who hadn¡¯t really understood what the Mechanic¡¯s plans were, who weren¡¯t in it for profit or power, and who had just wanted to protect and explore the dungeon that the Order had since named Route Horizon. The others had been cruel or greedy, and for those that had chosen the mindwipe, James felt absolutely justified in asking for removal of their worse habits as payment. Along with the actual ownership of any of the properties they¡¯d acquired, which did actually leave the Order as legal owner of a big chunk of Townton. But these four were just people who had tried to help, and been misled. Not that they were innocent. They had fucked up *big time*, and they¡¯d still tried to do good in that ¡°the ends justify the means¡± sort of way that left a sour taste in James mouth. In his mind, the end was the means. When you got to the end of the road, you weren¡¯t going to end up anywhere except where the road had been going. And if your path to victory involved kidnapping children and murdering witnesses? Well, you were always headed somewhere evil, no matter what you lied to yourself about. So it wasn¡¯t a surprise when none of them answered James immediately. ¡°We¡¯re fine.¡± The older woman, Dorothy, said, crossing her arms and meeting his eyes with a steely gaze. ¡°Or have your guards not reported that to you?¡± ¡°First off, no.¡± James answered. ¡°We¡¯re obviously keeping you under guard, but¡­ think of it like patient confidentiality. Matt won¡¯t tell me anything about what you¡¯ve been doing, if it¡¯s not directly a security risk.¡± He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the guard. ¡°Also, fine? Really.¡± He crossed his own arms in response. The two stared at each other for a long moment, before the others cut in. ¡°Tell him.¡± Kirk said quietly to the girl with short brown hair and a grim expression sitting on the bed next to him. James shifted his attention, and the girl took a breath to steady herself. ¡°Not fine.¡± She said. ¡°We¡¯re all having nightmares. Even-¡° she flipped off the older woman, ¡°-even Dorothy, yeah! We¡¯re fucking¡­ we¡¯re¡­ none of us are fine!¡± ¡°Everyone we thought we could trust is either dead or gone.¡± Kirk said with an exhausted, resigned voice. ¡°And¡­ is that our fault? God, we know what happened. To Townton. To¡­ to¡­¡± His words trailed off, and he shook his head. Now, Dorothy uncrossed her arms, and turned away from James to move to sit next to her companion, pulling the young man into a reassuring hug. She looked back, and in a less hostile voice, told him, ¡°We¡¯ve been informed what the death toll was.¡± She shook her head. ¡°And we are partially responsible for that. Your ¡®offer¡¯ of forgetting is generous, but¡­¡± ¡°But we¡¯d forget.¡± The other man in the room said with a shrug, walking past James to idly rummage through the suite¡¯s kitchen fridge. This hotel room was way nicer than James expected; it was basically a small apartment, and the rotund man seemed happy to raid whatever the Order had stocked their food supply with. ¡°We¡¯d forget everything.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve talked about it.¡± The younger girl said. ¡°With the others, too, before they¡­¡± ¡°They were cowards.¡± Dorothy spat out. ¡°They were afraid.¡± Kirk said. ¡°Mostly of you, actually.¡± He nodded to James. ¡°Oh?¡± James gave small encouragement to keep talking. Kirk elaborated. ¡°Yeah. They figured it was just a matter of time before you killed us for what we did.¡± He still didn¡¯t have any emotion in his voice except quiet resignation. ¡°This place does kinda feel like a ¡®last meal¡¯ sort of deal. And then you¡¯d get our globes, too.¡± ¡°Sorry, what?¡± James raised his eyebrows. The others gave either shocked, or furious looks, directed at both James and Kirk equally, as Kirk just shrugged. ¡°What we call the place where the spell map bits go. We¡¯ve all got ¡®em. And¡­ we know they can be taken if we die. So they just figured.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± James said. ¡°That¡¯s gonna be weird for the people who took the memory wipe option.¡± He mused. ¡°Awkward. Not gonna kill you, in case you were wondering.¡± James sighed, and pushed himself up to his feet, wincing at how sore his soles still were. ¡°Okay, so, here¡¯s the deal,¡± he said as he started pacing, ¡°we have no idea what to do with you.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± From her expression, this was apparently the most surprising thing Dorothy had heard in the last sixty years. Which was impressive, given that she was a wizard. ¡°We won¡¯t kill you. Ideologically, we¡¯re opposed to punitive incarceration. But we lack the resources to really commit to some kind of rehabilitation and therapy arrangement. Not that I think you actually need that; it seems like you¡¯re here and not out there because you *already* feel guilt. But you *really* fucked up, and without actually knowing what you can all do, letting any of you just wander off seems like a recipe for potential disaster.¡± James looked around, meeting their eyes with the exception of the guy who was more focused on making his sandwich. ¡°So, let me ask you something. What do you want?¡± ¡°Time machine.¡± Sandwich guy said without hesitation. Then he waited a beat, and asked. ¡°Do you have one? I¡¯ll take that if you do.¡± ¡°Sorry, no dice.¡± James said. ¡°Anyone else?¡± Dorothy stood and started pacing herself. ¡°What do we want? We just want to leave.¡± She snapped at him. ¡°That¡¯s not what I want.¡± Kirk cut in. James turned to him with a cocked eyebrow. ¡°I want to go back.¡± He said. ¡°Back to the Horizon. All¡­ all I wanted was to keep it safe. But that¡¯s done. So now I want to go back. Explore the roads, find new spells, maybe die.¡± He shrugged at that like dying was just another part of a road trip. ¡°Do you know how it feels?¡± The kid asked James, seemingly honestly. ¡°To have the whole world go back to being boring?¡± ¡°I have depression, and also access to an infinite office full of living staplers and cubicle towers.¡± James responded. Kirk nodded at him. ¡°Then you get it. That¡¯s what I want. I want to go *back*.¡± ¡°I just want the nightmares to stop.¡± The other girl said. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to forget. Kirk¡¯s right, it¡¯s too special. And also¡­ I wanna try to help. Undo what we did. I know we can¡¯t, but I¡­¡± She sniffed, and blinked tears out of her eyes. James wasn¡¯t sure if she was as completely honest as Kirk was being. He should have brought Alanna. Behind him, sandwich guy spoke around a mouthful of food, adding, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind unfucking some of our mess. But I also won¡¯t forget. My fuckups are *mine*, you hear me?¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯ve got a deal for you then.¡± They looked at him, expectantly and apprehensively in equal measure. ¡°You work for us.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a whole city, most of which we own, that needs cleanup, and security. And if you were honest with us, then I know at least two of you have spells that could help. After that, well¡­ you can stay with us if you like. We¡¯re going back into the Horizon, and other places like it. We¡¯re going to save people. And if you fit with us, and want to join, you can be part of that future. Otherwise, you can consider your penance done, and make your own way in the world. We won¡¯t stop you, unless you start hurting people again.¡± ¡°Who *are* you?¡± The girl that James was aware could drive a car through a building without issue asked. ¡°Are you the government? No one¡¯s actually *told us*. You keep saying ¡®us¡¯, and, like, what is that?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James grinned. ¡°We¡¯re the Order of Endless Rooms.¡± He told them. ¡°We¡¯re like you. But a little bigger, and a little cooler. And no, we aren¡¯t the government. Well, *yet*.¡± ¡°Yet?¡± ¡°Yet.¡± James confirmed. ¡°So. What do you say? You in? I know Matt over there is itching for you to say yes just so he can go get in a fight with one of the monsters still hanging out in Townton.¡± The ex cultists shared looks with each other before their more matronly member spoke. ¡°We¡¯ll need some time to-¡° ¡°Yes¡± ¡°Yeah¡± ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± Dorothy looked at the others with a frustrated glare. ¡°Okay, I suppose they don¡¯t need time to talk about it at all.¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯ll give you my answer after *some* consideration.¡± ¡°Alright, cool.¡± James said, tossing Matt a telepad with an address already on it. ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready, you can get out of here. No rush. Now, I¡¯ve gotta get going. Does anyone have any questions before I blip out?¡± ¡°Why?¡± Kirk asked. ¡°Why... what?¡± ¡°Why even bother with us? Why¡­ this? Why forgiveness, or whatever you¡¯re offering?¡± ¡°Oh. Easy.¡± James said. ¡°Because everyone keeps trying it the other way, and the world they¡¯ve built doing that *fucking honks*. So we¡¯re gonna do something new. So yeah, you¡¯ve got a debt to pay back. But *you* already know that. I¡¯m just¡­ here to help you do it.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m out. Good luck.¡± He said. And then, with a flick of his wrist, he dropped a telepad into his hand, and tore the page, blinking out of the hotel room. Karen would handle the checkout. James still had more people to catapult into the mess that this whole road trip had delivered to the Order. _____ There was a secret that James had kept from his friends for a long time. Even the people who were so close to him that he called them family, who shared his bed and made him breakfast, were kept in the dark about a crucial part of him. And especially from Sarah, and *doubly* especially from the massive white ball of excitement named Auberdeen that Sarah had adopted into their shared apartment. James was allergic to basically anything with fur. As he popped into the cracked asphalt of the parking lot under the shade of an oak tree that was probably older than he was, James considered that he might be the wrong person for this job. But, he was available, and this was technically his ¡®job¡¯ anyway. A small silver bell hanging off the door by a dog collar jingled cheerfully as he pushed open the glass door to the front reception area of the vet¡¯s office. Instantly, the smell of a building made for cats and dogs hit him like a wall. Alongside, almost paradoxically, the clean smell of disinfectant and that weird tang that he always associated with hospitals. Within seconds, a golden retriever with a tail wagging fast enough to generate lift had plowed into James¡¯ legs and demanded affection, which James was only too happy to give, scratching behind the ears and making a mental note to wash his hands later. There were actually a few animals in the lobby, a couple other smaller dogs and a pair of cats, one of which was in a carrier on the linoleum counter. all but the dog that had come up to greet James were napping in a fenced pen in the corner, which took up more of the room than the chairs for waiting humans. And after the golden retriever had gotten its pets and sufficiently smelled James, it headed back into the pen through the open gate, and lay down in the middle of the floor, forming a line of fur with the other sleeping animals across the middle of the penned in area. He looked at the napping animals for a while with a concerned frown on his face, and the black cat in the middle of the line looked back at him with feline contempt. This staring contest could have gone on longer, but a voice broke him out of his focus. ¡°Hi there! I¡¯m Dr. Marris, what brings you in today?¡± James jumped a little, and turned to see a short woman with a messy black ponytail that looked *suspiciously* like his own hair. She was wearing a white coat with a ton of pockets over a set of scrubs, and giving James the kind of smile that you tended to only get on people who had already decided the day was going to be fun. ¡°Hey there!¡± James matched her grin, and offered a handshake. ¡°I¡¯m James Lyle. I owe you a few favors. Or a *lot* of money.¡± He said. She gave him a confused look as she shook his hand. ¡°Oh, are you here for an owner¡¯s account? My desk person isn¡¯t in today, but we can make an appointment¡­¡± ¡°Oh, no, sorry.¡± James bit his lip sheepishly. ¡°To be clear about this, I¡¯m here about the giant invisible panther sleeping in the corner of the room.¡± He nodded toward the animal pen. ¡°Which, not gonna lie, is actually making me super nervous, but I assume you know what you¡¯re doing?¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Dr. Marris froze, tensing up and giving him an appraising look as she took a short step backward behind the desk. In the corner of the room, James suddenly because *very* aware of the low rumbling growl coming from nowhere. And also the other growls coming from the dogs. ¡°And who are you from?¡± She asked, cautiously. ¡°Order of Endless Rooms.¡± James answered. ¡°A name I am still getting used to being real, much as I¡¯ve always dreamed of talking like a character from a fantasy novel.¡± He kept his smile in place, as cool and disarming as he could be. ¡°You¡¯ve helped us out at least three times. I know you patched up Deb when she got hurt. She said you were aware of the weirdness we had going on. Also, you know¡­ giant cat.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s *you*!¡± The vet let out a relieved sigh. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯ve been panicking for a week about someone trying to kill me for knowing too much!¡± ¡°I am¡­ hm. I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a thing that happens?¡± James was suddenly uncertain. ¡°That said, you¡¯ve got a hell of a bodyguard, Dr. Marris.¡± He nodded toward the invisible cat again. She snorted. ¡°Amy. Please. And I¡¯d *hope* I¡¯ve bought some loyalty, given how much it costs in cat food.¡± The veterinarian shook her head. ¡°He eats. A *lot*.¡± She met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°A *loooooot*.¡± James chuckled. ¡°Well, on behalf of all the random local wildlife that was not eaten, thank you. And also seriously, thank you for this in general. I don¡¯t think many people would do more than scream and run from something like this, much less take care of it.¡± ¡°Yeah, well.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I was already kind of primed for it. Um¡­¡± Amy looked at him with some worry. ¡°Are you here to take him back?¡± ¡°The cat? Oh, uh¡­¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Would you be shocked to learn that we don¡¯t really have a place to keep something like that?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Because we¡­ wait, really?¡± ¡°Yeah? Don¡¯t you have, like, a magic farm or something?¡± ¡°I¡­ have no idea why you would think that.¡± James admitted. ¡°We have a small industrial-commercial flex space, that has too many basements and not enough room for the increasing number of weird members our Order has.¡± He told her. ¡°I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to keep-¡° ¡°Yes!¡± Amy yelped, like if she took too long James might rescind the offer. ¡°...okay, well good.¡± James nodded, and laughed. Across the room, the line of sleeping dogs shifted as the cat moved. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re talking about you!¡± Dr. Marris called over, in that kind of sing-song voice that humans almost instantly reverted to when speaking to pets. ¡°Are you behaving yourself?¡± A small pure black cat padded out the gate of the animal pen, making a strange stepping motion as it did so. Anyone not paying attention wouldn¡¯t have noticed the untouched fence to the side wobble as the cat passed by, something brushing against its top end. The vet came out from around the counter, and walked over to the cat. But rather than bending down to pet it, she instead extended an arm to the air overhead and to the right, and James watched as her body shifted while the small cat below bobbed its head like it was nuzzling something. ¡°That¡¯s kind of adorable.¡± James said. ¡°And also terrifying?¡± ¡°Welcome to my life!¡± Amy told him. ¡°So¡­ uh¡­ what do I do?¡± ¡°Like, in what way?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know anything about the care and feeding of magical invisible tigers.¡± She admitted with a roll of her eyes. ¡°Also, am I even allowed to keep him? Is he intelligent? Can you help with the times when he wants to be *really* active? I have so many questions!¡± James laughed, idly scratching his nose. ¡°Oh yeah, welcome to *my* life.¡± He shot back at her. ¡°To all of those? Your guess is as good as ours. Although we can help you cover food costs. We do actually owe you a lot of money.¡± James stepped over near her, and waited with a little anxiety that he tried to quash as the cat turned, and an unseen huff of breath moved his shirt while he was curiously sniffed. ¡°Actually, we *do* have a farm-esque plot of land, and we can arrange transport there and back whenever you need space for him to adventure around.¡± ¡°That would be *great*.¡± Amy sighed. ¡°Actually, question.¡± James said. ¡°Do you know if he likes other people?¡± ¡°He¡¯s actually *really* friendly.¡± Marris said. ¡°He *knows* he¡¯s not supposed to bother people who come in, but it¡¯s hard sometimes. I think a lot of people think the building is haunted.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay. Well, I ask because, we¡¯ve got another big space, too. Actually, we¡¯ve got a city?¡± ¡°A¡­ sure, okay.¡± The woman just rolled her eyes and accepted it, like she¡¯d gotten used to just believing the bizarre and moving forward. ¡°I bring this up, because we¡¯re doing some recovery work there.¡± James told her. ¡°And a cat that can move at thirty miles an hour and topple cars would actually be a valuable helper, in terms of providing security while we¡¯re there?¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°If you were interested in taking a vacation.¡± Dr. Marris eyed him like he¡¯d grown an extra head. ¡°Are you offering me a job?¡± ¡°Technically, I was going to do that later. And it¡¯s less a job and more a¡­ calling? Affiliation? What are we. I have no idea.¡± ¡°I have a job.¡± Dr. Marris told him. ¡°I *like* my job.¡± ¡°I admit, hiring people who aren¡¯t currently unemployed or haven¡¯t recently lost everything in their lives is a *little* weird for me.¡± James said. ¡°But we¡¯re not asking you to give up your current job.¡± He shrugged as he tried to explain. ¡°We want you to be independent from us, but know that you can rely on us for help. We like what you¡¯re doing, both mundane and magical, and we want to help you keep doing it. We¡¯ve got some resources we can share. And mostly, all we ask is that if someone needs help, you give it.¡± Amy cocked her hands to her hips and glowered at him. ¡°I already would have done that.¡± She protested. ¡°And now we¡¯ll give you very specific superpowers to do use while doing it!¡± James grinned at her. ¡°Also you can make friends with a giant snake-thing made out of cables. Is that a plus?¡± ¡°...Yes.¡± ¡°Look,¡± James said, still smiling but shifting his tone away from joking. ¡°I¡¯m trying to solve two problems at once here. If you¡¯re not interested, that¡¯s alright. We will still help with upkeep on the cat¡­ does the cat have a name?¡± He asked, suddenly realizing he hadn¡¯t checked. ¡°Romulus.¡± ¡°Because¡­ of¡­¡± James racked his brain. ¡°I thought Rome had a wolf-based creation myth? Or is it something else?¡± ¡°Because of Star Trek. He¡¯s cloaked!¡± The doctor seemed a little too pleased with herself. ¡°I actually haven¡¯t seen much Star Trek.¡± James admitted, ducking his head. ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone, I¡¯ll lose my nerd card.¡± He laughed, and she joined in before he continued trying to be serious. ¡°But really. We¡¯ll still help. No strings attached. But *also*, if you want a part time role hanging out with weird creatures, exploring strange places, and assisting with the backbreaking labor of cleaning up an abandoned city? That¡¯s on the table. And it¡¯d be kind of a big personal favor to me, if one of the people I sent JP¡¯s way today was someone we already know we can rely on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure why you think that¡¯s a compelling sales pitch. Also, JP?¡± ¡°He¡¯s in charge of the city thing.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Amy nodded, running both hands through the unseen fur of the cat which had, judging by the position of the smaller feline projection, laid down and rolled slightly onto her legs. ¡°How dangerous is it?¡± ¡°Pretty dangerous, probably.¡± James admitted. ¡°That¡¯s part of why I¡¯d like a six hundred pound panther shaped security blanket.¡± ¡°He¡¯s actually closer to nineteen hundred pounds.¡± The veterinarian replied. ¡°I had to lie to a truck weigh station to get that checked.¡± She paused in her petting to think, but resumed when she got a light bump from that cat¡¯s muzzle to her chest. ¡°This is kind of a lot, all at once.¡± Amy admitted. James nodded. ¡°There¡¯s no rush, honestly. But hey, here¡¯s my number, and you can let me know when you¡¯ve decided.¡± He reached out tentatively and pet at what he hoped was the right patch of air, being rewarded by the feeling of warm fur under his fingers and a rumbling purr that felt like a car idling. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯ve gotta go. Oh! If you could get your expenses written up, that¡¯d be helpful. We can get on paying that off for you, either way.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Amy said. ¡°It really is a *lot* of cat food. And steak. And do you know how much pet shampoo it takes for something this size?¡± ¡°...A lot?¡± James ventured. She nodded vigorously. ¡°A lot, yes! But yes, I will call you when I decide. I think I just need some time.¡± James nodded and smiled. ¡°Alright. Well, I¡¯ve gotta get going. Lot of meetings today. Nice to meet you, though! And thanks again for taking care of Rom here.¡± ¡°Anytime.¡± She smiled back. James reached into his coat and pulled out his telepad, making sure the address to the Lair was correct before pulling of the page and vanishing out of the lobby of the small veterinary. He arrived on the telepad platform with a snap of air, stepping off quickly to make sure he was out of the way, and moving past the Response team that had just returned themselves to head upstairs. He had just pushed open the door to the Lair¡¯s common area when his phone rang. James didn¡¯t recognize the number, so he answered with a curious ¡°Hello?¡± ¡°If you told me you could teleport, I probably would have said yes sooner.¡± Amy Marris¡¯ belligerent voice told him. James grinned. ¡°Alright. Pack your bags and clear your calendar.¡± He said. ¡°There¡¯s a lot to do, and we are *so* understaffed.¡± _____ As James left the Response basement and telepad landing platform for the third time that day, he passed Alanna in the stairwell. After a quick peck of a kiss that got applause from the people they were blocking the way of, Alanna pivoted and walked with James back up to the common area. ¡°How¡¯ve ya been settling back in?¡± James asked her as she grabbed a reusable water bottle from the communal fridge, offering him one as well. Alanna gulped down half the bottle before giving a puff of an ¡°ah¡± and flipping the cap back on. ¡°It¡¯s been not even two days.¡± She told him with a small amount of snark. ¡°What? No.¡± James narrowed his eyes, unsure if he was being messed with, going insane, or caught in a time loop again. ¡°It¡¯s been, like, two weeks almost? We took a few days to recover, did the Office on¡­ around... Tuesday, then the Sewer on¡­ Friday? What day is it?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Alanna counted off on her fingers. ¡°Then I guess I¡¯m settling in well? Because I just kinda got caught up doing stuff. What¡¯re you doing today?¡± ¡°I¡¯m rounding up a lot of the people who know about us, rapidly recruiting, smooshing them together into a makeshift crew of vagabonds, and handing them to JP to be both his problem and a solution to his problem.¡± James said, all in one breath. ¡°...Why not just¡­ recruit¡­ new people?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Partially because we¡¯re doing that anyway, I think I¡¯m actually supposed to start interviews tomorrow, but also because new people have an adjustment period, and people who are already exposed to the weird stuff don¡¯t need to spend a month coming to terms with the existence of camracondas.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°The camracondas are kind of a big deal around here, huh?¡± ¡°I mean¡­¡± James shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re our friends? I¡¯ve gotten so used to them just being part of our lives, it¡¯s honestly weird to me when I go to other places and there aren¡¯t any.¡± He thought about it for a second. ¡°I should see if any of them want to go to Townton. I don¡¯t think I saw any while I was there? But then, I mostly just went in a straight line to harass JP, and then left.¡± ¡°Do you ever worry that teleporting everywhere loses you some of the value of travel?¡± Alanna asked him curiously, as she sipped her water. James fidgeted with the cap of his own water bottle, leaning against the counter and watching some of their summer interns setting up a few tables for a mock debate taking place later tonight. ¡°I mean, I did just try to take a road trip.¡± He said. ¡°And if I¡¯d teleported¡­¡± He swallowed. Hard. ¡°If we¡¯d just blinked there, we might have been in time to keep a few thousand people alive. So maybe travel isn¡¯t all it¡¯s cracked up to be.¡± ¡°I guess.¡± Alanna said, staring at the ground. ¡°But then you would have missed me, and Jeanne and Ava, and maybe that whole thing with Cammy. You also, if I have the timeline in my head right, wouldn¡¯t have the spell you used to break through to the Mechanic anyway.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not, like, saying ¡®everything happens for a reason¡¯, because that always seems like a cop out. But reasons are why things happen the way they do. Wishing you¡¯d done it different¡­ you¡¯re just wishing to erase the bad stuff, assuming that nothing else would¡¯ve happened to fuck it all up, right?¡± ¡°I guess.¡± James said, staring up at the ventilation pipes overhead. ¡°But I don¡¯t, you know, *want* thousands of people to die.¡± He rolled his head to look at his partner. ¡°It¡¯s my *thing*.¡± Alanna barked a laugh, and clapped a hand on his shoulder, strong fingers massaging at the tense muscles. ¡°I know, it¡¯s why I like you.¡± She said simply. ¡°So, what¡¯re you up to?¡± ¡°Oh, I was actually going to go talk to Ann, if I could find her.¡± Alanna said. ¡°So, you know how we spend a lot of time in armor these days?¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware of it.¡± James nodded. ¡°We need better armor. I¡¯m honestly annoyed we don¡¯t have a magic coat of protection yet.¡± ¡°You have shield bracers, shut up. Anyway, the body armor we have.¡± Alanna deftly blocked his attempt to derail the conversation. ¡°It¡¯s kind of the worst fucking thing ever, and I was hoping maybe the one other woman who spends all day in it could help me out with that.¡± ¡°Worst¡­ how?¡± James asked. ¡°So, you know how I¡¯ve got tits, right?¡± Alanna asked, giving James an inscrutable look. James paused and tried to look just as enigmatic back at her. ¡°I¡¯ve been informed of this, yes.¡± He said. ¡°Sources say they¡¯re very nice. Especially when you-¡° ¡°*Yes thank you* anyway moving on.¡± Alanna¡¯s sarcasm crumbled. ¡°The point is, the armor wasn¡¯t designed for that. And even my, let¡¯s be real here, not-very-voluptuous form still ends up getting crushed and pinched in ways I don¡¯t appreciate.¡± Setting his bottle on the counter with a metal clink, James frowned in thought. ¡°We can just buy a different model of armor for you. We¡¯ve *got* the money.¡± ¡°Would you believe me if I told you that commercially available body armor is almost exclusively designed by and for men?¡± Alanna asked him. ¡°I mean, it sounds kinda horrible, and I¡¯m prepared to believe most negative things about the world these days.¡± James shrugged. ¡°What about designing our own?¡± ¡°Kind of what I was gonna ask Ann about. I know there¡¯s other delvers or responders who also deal with this, but she¡¯s the only one I know that well.¡± ¡°Oh yeah? That¡¯s cool.¡± Alanna gave a small laugh. ¡°I mean, we¡¯ve talked a few times. Mostly about dumb stuff, but it¡¯s always fun. I dunno.¡± ¡°You¡¯re describing¡­ friendship. That¡¯s friendship what you¡¯re saying there.¡± James gave her a long suffering look, mouth stretched into a line. ¡°Well, hopefully my friend will have some advice on making the plate edges not dig in so much to the sides of my boobs.¡± Alanna said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. ¡°It¡¯s either that, or get breast reduction surgery, because not wearing the armor isn¡¯t an option.¡± ¡°Oh, I know about this one. You¡¯re on the Oregon Health Plan, right? You can just have that. I mean, it takes a couple of preliminary appointments, but you can set up a surgery. Though I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s something that¡¯s being done right now, what with the whole¡­ hospital situation.¡± James looped his hand in the air, trying to figure out the somatic motion to describe ¡®a global pandemic¡¯. Alanna eyed him. ¡°You were just saying you liked ¡®em. Now you¡¯re okay with me getting reduction surgery?¡± ¡°I mean, they¡¯re not *my* breasts.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°So yes, I¡¯m fine with it.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not! I like having boobs!¡± Alanna retorted. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what side I¡¯m supposed to be defending here!¡± James exclaimed. ¡°Also, we have a machine that makes the armor shells, and the Kevlar mesh that goes in them! We can just make you better armor!¡± ¡°I know! That¡¯s why I was going to talk to Ann!¡± Alanna grabbed James by the shoulders and shook him lightly. ¡°Why are we yelling?!¡± He burst out, grabbing her shoulders and returning the motion. ¡°You two are such dorks.¡± Momo said as she passed by, sliding through the front desk¡¯s access door to get to the fridge, and passing close enough that James suddenly had a moment of knowing the names and locations of everyone in the building, every phone number within two blocks, and the lunch menu. ¡°Hey, you done with those? I¡¯m heading back to the kitchen.¡± She pointed at their bottles, and both James and Alanna calmly released each other, handed Momo the water bottles, let her pass by again, and then reached out to grab each other¡¯s shoulders in the same formation as before. They both gave Momo an expectant look, and she just snorted with a smile on her face. ¡°Dorks.¡± She said. ¡°I think I¡¯m setting in fine.¡± Alanna admitted, as Momo headed away and she and James untangled themselves. ¡°I remember almost everything, but that¡¯s less important, I think. It¡¯s just so nice here. My brain keeps overvaluing the last few months, and so I have this impression in my head of people just being generally shitty. And now¡­ this, I guess. Worst thing I get called in a day is a dork, you know? And I *remember* that, but now I¡¯m living it again. And I like it.¡± ¡°I like it too.¡± James smiled. ¡°Anyway, go get your armor settled.¡± He turned and headed toward the elevator, before spinning on his heel and walking backward to call back to Alanna as she opened the door to the Response basement. ¡°Oh, and question! What¡¯re you doing for the next week or two?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ lots of stuff?¡± ¡°Wanna babysit a ragtag band of vagabonds as they grow into a valuable addition to the Order?¡± He asked. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Alanna called out. ¡°I hate Tennessee and you can¡¯t make me go back!¡± She yelled, before ducking through the door and letting it swing close behind her. ¡°Damn.¡± James said. ¡°Nate said the same thing.¡± _____ The Research basement had become messy, James noticed immediately as he stepped off the elevator. He¡¯d known for the last week of being back, but it had somehow gotten worse in the time that he had focused on other things. Like some kind of perverse game of red-light-green-light, where every time he blinked, more clutter accumulated. It wasn¡¯t like it was turning into a garbage heap down here or anything. The place was still clean, someone was keeping the floors swept and the small increasingly impossible garden around the tree kept neat. But someone was also stacking bankers boxes full of random Status Quo documentation by the elevator, storing pallets of bricks and plywood on the sides of the already fairly cramped hallways, and leaving random objects on every available flat surface of roughly table height. It reminded James a lot of his apartment. In the last way, not in the sense that he kept construction materials sitting around just in case he needed them. After an unintentional dance with a camraconda that was also trying to slip past a choke point in one of the halls, James emerged into the main floor space that the investigators, researchers, engineers, and historians of the Order shared. It, too, was a chaotic mess. Though more in the sense that it had a lot of moving pieces, more than it had a lot of clutter. Reed had a *line* of people waiting for him to give them a slice of his time, one of the new engineers was having - and losing - a debate with a camraconda about AI ethics, someone was giving Momo a status update about one of the grown program chips, a manifested Planner watched and took careful records of orange totem design plans, and there were a half dozen other sources of movement and sound besides that, all vying for James¡¯ attention. It was interesting, and he was here for none of it. He instead took one of the relatively clear corridors around the outside of the space, heading to the far side of the room, and the secure containment vault that lay beyond it. And he almost got there without being spotted and interrupted. Though fortunately, it was Momo, and not someone who was going to ask him to approve any kind of bizarrely irresponsible project. ¡°Hey, I need you to get everyone on board with something stupid.¡± Momo said, just as James opened his mouth to say hi. He closed his mouth, and frowned at her. So much for his high esteem for his friend and colleague. ¡°I¡¯m almost certainly going to say no.¡± James told her. ¡°But alright, let¡¯s hear it. You have limited time, because I¡¯m here for something and it¡¯s almost seven, and I haven¡¯t eaten in¡­¡± He thought, and couldn¡¯t come up with a number. His stomach growled at him. ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡± He corrected. ¡°Anyway, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°I want you to let me build an AI doctor.¡± Momo said, a determined look on her face. ¡°Nameless is degrading, and I can¡¯t fix h- it, and there isn¡¯t a lot else I can do. I wanted to get them an authority, but they¡¯re all going to camracondas over the next couple days, and Reed doesn¡¯t know when any new ones will grow, or if we can even bond one to a life form that doesn¡¯t have a normal body. So I want to try to make a new digital intelligence, that can fix others. Please.¡± James took a close look at her, and saw a girl who hadn¡¯t slept in a long time. ¡°We don¡¯t make life to be tools.¡± He told her softly. ¡°But we sure do use them when it happens anyway.¡± Momo snapped out bitterly, and then instantly looked like she regretted it. ¡°I¡­ I mean¡­¡± She took a step back, and looked around for anything to focus on that wasn¡¯t James. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be mad at you.¡± James told her, still in that same calm voice. He was getting good at staying cool for situations like this, which wasn¡¯t experience he¡¯d ever really wanted. ¡°But we don¡¯t make life to be tools. And if you did make another AI, there¡¯s no promise that it won¡¯t suffer the same degradation that this one is going through.¡± He didn¡¯t draw the parallel to aging in general; he felt like his goal of eliminating mortality was pretty well stated. It was more about the time frame of how quickly the AI had begun to fall apart. ¡°No, I¡¯m not going to okay that. And I think you know it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not *fair*!¡± Momo yelled, looking like she wanted to punch the nearest wall, but finding nothing but hanging cork boards and shelves within arm¡¯s reach. ¡°It¡¯s done so much for us, and I¡¯m just¡­ letting it die.¡± She sniffed, and rubbed at the edges of eyes that had run out of fresh tears hours ago. ¡°And it doesn¡¯t even care, really. So I guess I¡¯m just wasting everyone¡¯s time.¡± The words came out angry and bitter. ¡°It isn¡¯t fair.¡± James agreed. ¡°We¡¯ll divert an authority to you, to see if you can make that work. And any other resource you need. Do you need more red orbs? We can prioritize that. Has running the programs Nameless won in the dungeon helped? Is there some kind of code-based healing potion? That would fit the pattern¡­¡± He muttered the last sentence quietly. ¡°What, just like that?¡± Momo asked, brain only just catching up to the authority comment. ¡°Yes. The AI is dying, the camracondas aren¡¯t. It¡¯s worth it to see¡­ hm.¡± He paused. ¡°Yeah, you thought it, didn¡¯t you?¡± Momo said. ¡°What if the AI dies, and the authority goes with it?¡± ¡°They don¡¯t start as people, same as with most infomorphs.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s weird and ethically uncomfortable, but it¡¯ll be okay.¡± He raised a hand and caught Reed¡¯s attention from across the room, and then indicated Momo. Reed nodded once, and then went back to his petitioners. ¡°There.¡± James told her. ¡°I am curious about the programs, though. And if that¡¯s a little too much right now, that¡¯s fine, but maybe if I could get a list? It could literally save lives.¡± ¡°I¡­ yeah, I can do that now.¡± Momo said. ¡°We did try them, just to see. They¡¯re all like that CD that Anesh made a bunch of copies of. Run the program, get immunity to something. But the portion, processor load of the program, and usefulness, all seem random.¡± ¡°As expected.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Momo rolled her eyes. ¡°Whatever Virgil got, either he aced some challenge for it, or just got super lucky, because¡­¡± James winced. ¡°Oh good, the part where things go wrong!¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. But it takes one CD tray, and any PC made after 2010 can run it. Anesh¡¯s obviously been testing it, and I think he¡¯s got a computer around here that we should be mining bitcoin on, that can run maybe six copies? That¡¯s pretty cool.¡± Momo shook her head. ¡°Most of these are clunkier. Like, they need dedicated hardware, and I don¡¯t know how much we¡¯re willing to invest in that.¡± She gnawed at her lip. ¡°Also a lot of them suck.¡± ¡°Like?¡± ¡°Like the one that gives immunity to wood?¡± Momo suggested. ¡°There¡¯s also one that protects against ¡®hammers¡¯. So, that¡¯s vague. Oh, they also both are hugely inefficient programs.¡± ¡°What are the good ones?¡± James asked, waiting outside the vault door to finish the conversation. ¡°And how comically inconvenient are they?¡± ¡°Heat, lightning, and drowning.¡± Momo rattled off. ¡°Lightning or electricity?¡± ¡°Lightning.¡± James clicked his tongue. ¡°So heat and drowning then.¡± He said. ¡°Weren¡¯t there, like, twenty things in that box? Is that really all that¡¯s good?¡± ¡°More now. I¡¯ll get you a full list. But the heat one is a floppy disk that¡¯s actually a very small program. It just only gives a quarter of a percent. The drowning one¡­¡±. She winced as she looked at James. ¡°The thing¡¯s a laserdisk.¡± ¡°...How?¡± ¡°Dungeon nonsense?¡± ¡°Kay. How often do any of us really drown, though?¡± He mused. ¡°Nevermind, that¡¯s the point, isn¡¯t it? Okay, get me the full list. I have a thing to do right now.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Momo nodded vigorously, the spikes of her short Mohawk wobbling as she did. ¡°And¡­ thanks. For jumping me over the line like that, for the authority.¡± ¡°Reed has his head in the right place, but he¡¯s looking at the rules as rules, not guidelines.¡± James told her. ¡°Don¡¯t hold it against him. He¡¯ll learn. We¡¯re all learning.¡± ¡°Yeah. Well, good luck in there.¡± Momo paused for a minute, looking uncertain, and then moved forward like she was stumbling to wrap her arms around James in a quick hug. ¡°Thank you.¡± She said, before awkwardly breaking off and running - obviously unsafe down here - to get into the line of people who all had things to ask Reed. James just shook his head, but he couldn¡¯t hold off a smile as he did so. Punching in the code to the vault, he pulled open the heavy door as the locks disengaged, and let it swing shut behind him as he walked into the containment room. The inside had been rearranged since he was last down here, mostly making use of the extra floor space since the camracondas now had a new space for their religious observances. The wall of trophies from the fallen was still in its place, tucked in a corner for anyone to visit, and James noticed that some superstitious engineers had left skulljack accessory prototypes on the shelf with Virgil¡¯s orb. The back of the room, though, was very different, having been divided into secure observation rooms. The whole place was brightly lit and a lot cleaner and more organized than the outside, which was simultaneously offputting and a huge relief. Sarah was waiting for him by the desk that was positioned to watch the cells - James knew they weren¡¯t technically a prison, but they reminded him too much of cells for him to think of them as anything else - talking to Deb, who was flipping through a sheaf of papers. ¡°Bloodwork came back¡­ uh¡­ nothing.¡± Deb was saying. ¡°It¡¯s not blood. And despite us having a bit of a reputation with that particular hospital right now, I think they might think this was a practical joke.¡± She sighed. ¡°Hey James.¡± ¡°Hey James!¡± Sarah perked up as he walked in. ¡°Hey you two. And hello to our guests.¡± He nodded politely toward the wide security glass windows of the two occupied cells. The occupants were already watching, but at his nod, both of them reacted. The two ratroaches that had been brought out of the Akashic Sewer, one standing by the window, the other sitting in a ball on the bed, both flinched as he acknowledged them. They were wearing shirts that had been specially sewn for them by members of the support group, along with loose fitting sweat pants that looked enormously baggy on the smaller one, and almost comically tight on its larger partner, accentuating the odd proportions of its musculature. They weren¡¯t prisoners, at least, not to the Order. But a lifetime of being imprisoned, no matter how nice anyone here was going to treat them, was going to leave marks. That¡¯s wasn¡¯t why Deb was here, though. She was here to check on the more physical marks. There was weird effect that came from exposure to the skill orbs that Officium Mundi offered. For some people, like James, a few interesting orbs could take him down a radically new path for a hobby or profession. But for others, like Anesh, they were more concerned with skill orbs that amplified their current passion. It wasn¡¯t like anyone was a hundred percent one or the other, but it was kind of clear that Deb had wanted to be a doctor, and access to lifetimes worth of medical knowledge had only helped her do that better, even if she *did* end up on delve or rescue teams more often than she really remembered signing up for. ¡°So, what¡¯s the situation?¡± James asked her. ¡°Well, despite not having ¡®blood¡¯, they still aren¡¯t carrying any foreign pathogens. I think we talked about this, but I did some of my own tests, and they do benefit from most vaccinations, though whether or not they can get chicken pox is up in the air. If they could before, they can¡¯t now, though. You were right, too, that red inflammation where fur and chitin meet is absolutely an infection. Their bodies seem adapted to it, and they were probably made for it, but it still leaves them in intense pain. We¡¯ve been using tacrolimus as a treatment, after it became clear it was working like organ rejection, and that¡¯s been helping a lot, along with a standard antibiotic routine.¡± She flipped through her pages, and turned one to show James an outline of a ratroach form with a slew of red marks. ¡°They have multiple badly healed fractures, scar tissue clumps, and open lesions.¡± She frowned, and looked back through the windows. ¡°Or at least, they *had*. They heal *fast*, even if they don¡¯t heal well. Just being out of the Sewer, they¡¯re getting healthier by the day. Good food and real beds probably don¡¯t hurt. I have a report on recommended nutrition here for you, too.¡± ¡°...Deb, how smart are you?¡± James asked her. ¡°You don¡¯t wanna know.¡± ¡°...Okay.¡± James glanced at Sarah. ¡°How about communication?¡± ¡°They can understand us.¡± Sarah said confidently. ¡°And communicate through gestures and some words. They were ¡®gifted¡¯ with different languages by the Sewer, so we got them overlapping yellows to cover. They both know English and Spanish.¡± ¡°But they can¡¯t speak very well.¡± Deb told him. ¡°Undeveloped vocal cords, badly connected lungs, and misshapen jaws make speaking painful for them, probably on purpose.¡± She snarled. ¡°Whatever did this, it¡¯s a real fucker.¡± Sarah gave a sad look at the two ratroaches, who were still watching James on high alert, multiple sets of eyes tracking him. ¡°I¡¯ve been talking to them, as much as I can.¡± She said. ¡°They¡¯re terrified, you know? Oh, they did help identify one of the weird samples Anesh brought back! They call it shaper substance; and I think it¡¯s what the big one keeps using to modify herself. If we had more of it, enough of it, we could probably help them do the same. But if I understand right, it¡¯s insanely painful?¡± ¡°We do have anesthetic that could help.¡± Deb commented. ¡°But yeah, that¡¯s what I¡¯ve got for you. They¡¯re as healthy as I can make them, and with the proper routine, they¡¯ll only get healthier. And they don¡¯t have anything that could cause problems. They *had* some nasty spores in their fur that could have caused lung damage to a human, but that¡¯s taken care of.¡± ¡°Do you want to talk to them?¡± Sarah asked him quietly. ¡°Yeah.¡± James said, stepping forward, with Sarah moving to flank him. Deb stepped back and excused herself politely, leaving the documentation on the desk, but knowing that more humans in the room was only going to make it too crowded. ¡°Hey there.¡± He said, standing in the spot where they could both see him through the windows. The ratroaches eyed him with caution. On the one hand, yes, he had been the one to get them here. Away from the dungeon. ¡°Safe¡±. But on the other hand¡­ They had seen him fight. ¡°So, Deb tells me you don¡¯t need to quarantine anymore.¡± James said softly. ¡°We can get you moved to real rooms, not isolation cells, probably today if you want.¡± The one that had been pacing stopped and pivoted toward the window, and James noticed he had a quartet of antenna coming off the back of his head that bobbed when he moved. The large ratroach rapidly alternated glancing between James and the wall separating their rooms, a worried look in both kinds of eyes on its face, mouth open as it struggled to say something. ¡°Take your time.¡± Sarah stepped in, stopping the ratroach¡¯s attempts. ¡°There¡¯s no rush, do you want paper to write?¡± The ratroach paused, looking down at the three clawed hands it possessed, folding and unfolding its fingers as it struggled to breathe. Eventually, it steadied itself, looked back up, and croaked out a word. ¡°Together?¡± He asked James. ¡°As in, rooms next to each other, or one room?¡± James asked. The ratroach held up a hand, and with effort, gestured with two raised fingers. ¡°One room then?¡± A nod. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s easy, we can do that.¡± He said simply, and saw in the other room the smaller ratroach curl itself around the pillow it was holding as it sat, muzzle twisting into a happy smile. ¡°Wait, hang on. Are you two... partners? Romantic or otherwise?¡± James asked, curious more than anything. Both ratroaches froze, any hint of a smile vanishing from their faces. James instantly realized he¡¯d made a mistake asking, but Sarah again came to his rescue. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± she told them, ¡°that¡¯s not a problem here. A lot of us have partners. You¡¯ll probably meet James¡¯ partners at some point, inevitably. Anesh is *around* a lot.¡± She smiled at them, and they relaxed just a fraction. ¡°I cannot,¡± James said quietly, ¡°imagine trying to both have and hide a relationship in that dungeon.¡± He shook his head. Then, speaking up, told them, ¡°But yeah, we can get you out of here now, if you want. Would you like to come upstairs and meet some people?¡± He pressed a few buttons on the door¡¯s keypads, and opened each of them with individual hisses of slightly pressurized air. The two ratroaches didn¡¯t move, staring at the open doors like they were a trap. ¡°People?¡± The smaller one said. The larger one was a little more bold, and took the opportunity to slip through its own door, not taking his eyes off James or Sarah though, before backing through the open door of the adjacent room and settling into the same standing position before the bed the small one was sitting on. ¡°People.¡± Sarah confirmed. ¡°Nice people, mostly! Friends, if you want ¡®em. People to spend time with, people who won¡¯t¡­ hurt you.¡± ¡°How¡­¡± one of them croaked out, before stopping, struggling to speak, and then instead of using words, just held up its hands and ticked off fingers one by one. ¡°How many?¡± James asked, and it nodded its head, a line of glowing blue drool rolling down its jaw before it wiped it away with an ashamed look in its eyes. ¡°There¡¯s about a hundred people in the building at any given time. A lot of them camracondas or Response members, but we¡¯ve got a pretty wide variety of things going on.¡± The ratroaches shook their heads, shrinking away from the open door. ¡°It¡¯s¡­! It¡¯s okay!¡± Sarah tried to mollify them. ¡°It¡¯s not scary! We¡¯re not¡­!¡± This time, it was James¡¯ turn to jump in. ¡°Can I ask, what is it that bothers you? Is it the idea of other people, the number of people, or the feeling of being exposed?¡± The ratroaches indicated the last two points, with the small one heavily emphasizing the feeling of exposure. ¡°Because you¡¯ve met ¡®people¡¯ before, right? In the Sewer? And they hurt you.¡± James asked. ¡°Yes.¡± The small one squeaked out, voice sounding both raspy and high pitched all at once. A stray thought in James¡¯ head collided with his path through the day, and he tapped a finger on his lips as he considered something. ¡°Would you be more comfortable in a place that has fewer people, and is mostly isolated from other people wandering in?¡± He asked The two creatures shared a look, and then gave James cautious nods. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Sarah asked him. ¡°Townton.¡± James said. ¡°There¡¯s twenty people there, max. Most of them are constantly busy, and not around all the time in their base, so it¡¯ll be mostly empty but still have contact. But it¡¯s still ¡®our territory¡¯, more or less. A place they can be safe.¡± ¡°Safe, with a bunch of road warriors wandering around?¡± Sarah gave him an incredulous frown, all pursed lips and furrowed brow. ¡°Really.¡± ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have to leave the forward base, if they don¡¯t want to. And it¡¯s *isolated*.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Would that be better for you two?¡± He asked them. ¡°It¡¯s not as safe as here, but it¡¯s got fewer people. If that doesn¡¯t sound okay, we can maybe look into buying a remote cabin in the woods somewhere and setting you up there.¡± The large ratroach looked like he was going to say something, and then stopped, like he¡¯d just realized something terrible, shrinking down as he bowed his head and crouched down to the floor, no longer towering over James. ¡°Not choice.¡± The ratroach croaked out. ¡°..What?¡± ¡°Not our choice.¡± The smaller one rasped, seemingly having a firmer grasp on its own voice, even if he did have to pant for breath after each sentence. ¡°You own us now.¡± Sarah lay a hand on James¡¯ shoulder, preemptively saying, ¡°James, don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Own you.¡± James hissed. ¡°*Own* you?¡± The ratroach scraped its shell on the floor as it pushed itself backward to the wall, moving to get away from James¡¯s sudden burst of anger. ¡°No.¡± He took a deep breath, pushing the white hot feeling of indignant rage away. ¡°No.¡± He stepped into the room, and almost wanted to cry as the small ratroach on the bed curled into the corner, holding the pillow between himself and James like a protective totem. But whatever they expected, all James did was reach down an open hand to the ratroach on the ground. ¡°Please, stand up.¡± He asked, a sad note in his voice. It took a minute, but eventually, realizing he wasn¡¯t going to punish or hurt them, the dungeon creation reached up one of its main arms to place a chitin plated hand in James. James gave an ¡°oof¡± of exertion as he helped the ratroach to his feet, not realizing how heavy he would be. And then, he stepped back. ¡°We don¡¯t own you.¡± He said, firmly. ¡°No one does. You aren¡¯t property, or assets, or anything but people. When anyone here asks you if you have a preference, the choice is yours and yours alone. Even if you¡¯re not asked, speak up, and we¡¯ll work with you. We want¡­¡± James trailed off, trying to figure out how to express what he really did want. ¡°...we want you to heal. To see the future with us. Even if you don¡¯t want to join us directly, you¡¯re under our umbrella now, and we¡¯ll do whatever we can to keep you safe. Okay?¡± There was a long silence. James signed, and turned to go, not sure he had anything to say that would make the difference here. He was standing in the doorway, about to let Sarah know that she should get them a room and leave them be, when he heard a hissing gasp behind him, and felt a tap on his shoulder. James turned around, careful not to spin or jump, and faced the smaller of the two ratroaches. He had slid off the bed without a sound, and tapped James with the extra arm that originated just under the back of his right shoulder blade. And stood there, trembling, staring up at James, with a defiant look in its eyes. The larger one looked like it expected James to just kill his partner right there, which made James¡¯ heart break all over again. ¡°Yes?¡± James asked, softly. The ratroach flicked its hands, and it took James a second to realize it was speaking sigh language. It took him another second to realize that he understood that, and he thanked whatever yellow had given him this unlikely skill however long ago it had happened. ¡°You swear?¡± The ratroach asked. James *almost* made a joke about how he swore a lot. But instead, he just replied in the same language, with fingers that weren¡¯t used to using it. ¡°I promise, yes.¡± He said. ¡°You have a choice with us. Always.¡± ¡°Why?¡± The sleak, clearly terrified, ratroach asked. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°I think you do.¡± James said out loud. ¡°It¡¯s why you knew you had to leave the Sewer. It¡¯s why your partner looks ready to try to fight the whole building if I threaten you.¡± He nodded to the larger of the two, who had one furred hand extended into wicked looking claws, and the other two hands balled into tight fists. ¡°It¡¯s because kindness is worth showing, even if it¡¯s hard. Compassion is valuable, even if it¡¯s scary. Love is worth protecting, even if it¡¯s painful.¡± He looked down at his own hand, broken until recently, and held it out slowly to the ratroach. ¡°You¡¯ve been alone and starved and hurt for so long, it might seem like that¡¯s normal, and you¡¯re the strange ones for wanting anything different. But that¡¯s not the world I want to live in.¡± The ratroach looked down at James¡¯ offered hand, staring at it with five eyes all at different focuses, before he slowly extended a half furred half shelled hand of his own, and placed it cautiously against James¡¯ palm. James smiled, and gave a light grip back to the ratroach, trying not to think about how spiky the coarse fur was on his skin. ¡°Now,¡± he said, ¡°go hug your boyfriend, and you two take some time to decide what you want. You¡¯ve got time. But I do think the best option for you might be our secondary site. It¡¯s got fresh air, and it¡¯ll be funny to me personally to add another thing to JP¡¯s pile of tasks.¡± Sarah swatted him on the arm. ¡°Don¡¯t be mean! Also that¡¯s just gonna confuse them.¡± ¡°Wait.¡± The muscled ratroach said, stopping James as he turned to go. ¡°Yes?¡± It took some time to marshal its voice, and then asked slowly, ¡°What¡­ is a hug?¡± And finally, James couldn¡¯t keep the tears back any longer. He jerked his head to look away, a hand covering his mouth as he stifled a strained set of sobs, hot tears forming in the corners of his eyes. There was, he had figured, a finite limit to the amount of cruelty in the world. And now he was given a front row seat to a massive alert that he had been absolutely wrong. And then Sarah wrapped her arms around his back, and thunked her head into his neck, pulling him close and throwing him off balance in surprise. But he didn¡¯t fall, and she helped him stabilize, and he put his own arm around her shoulders and just tried to be *okay* for a minute. ¡°This is a hug.¡± Sarah said. ¡°It¡¯s something you share with people when they need it, or you need it, or to say hello or goodbye, or just because you want to. It¡¯s a very flexible gesture.¡± She told them. In their temporary room, two new people, secret loves who had survived injuries both physical and mental, who had taken a wild chance on freedom, shared a hug for the first time in their lives. And James¡¯ kept crying, but he smiled while he did it. _____ _____ ¡°This is absolutely not what I meant, *James*.¡± JP muttered to himself, standing on the second floor balcony and looking down at the cracked and damaged floor of the police station¡¯s lobby. Then he shook his head, took another swallow from the beer he¡¯d liberated from a local grocery store, and turned to make his way downstairs. He had new arrivals to welcome to the project. Chapter 166 ¡°I have never once had narritively appropriate sex. Nor has a loved one¡¯s death been a metaphor for something greater. Sometimes, things just happen. That is life, and our stories should reflect that.¡± - Cameron Lauder - _____ Monsters and domains, small gods and big responsibilities, new faces and new attempts. The Order spent a lot of its time, day to day, being *busy*. It wasn¡¯t just as an organization either; individually almost everyone had a laundry list of important stuff to take care of, and downtime was both precious and welcome. Not that the work itself wasn¡¯t rewarding, and often fun in its own right. But it was *work*. Effort and energy, put toward something bigger. Not bad, but not exactly restful. So it was that when James found himself with a day off, he increasingly loved just being able to kick back and do *nothing*, guilt free. Of course, today, he wasn¡¯t doing nothing. He was meeting up with his partners for coffee, because there was an amount of free time on their parts too, and they all wanted to just sit and relax and enjoy the evening together. Their apartment sat at the midway point of a winding black asphalt path that cut through multiple suburbs and small shopping centers, a belt through the rampant greenery that would, if James followed it for twenty minutes, lead him to the coffee shop that he loved living nearby. It wasn¡¯t exactly all green anymore; the mid-September environment being one where a lot of the grass had dried out from the summer sun, and been trampled into a series of foot paths by an uncountable number of excited dogs and teenagers. But the leaves of the trees hadn¡¯t started to change yet, and the summer warmth stretched on even into this later month. He enjoyed the simple pleasure of the walk, smiling as he saw a deer by the side of the path where it ran by a patch of wooded land, smiling more when one of those excited dogs being walked in the opposite direction stopped to give him a friendly sniff. The air smelled like living things, and he could hear more birds than cars, and it was wonderful. James wasn¡¯t an outdoorsy person, not really. But he vastly preferred this kind of blended environment to the noisy hostility of denser urban spaces. Especially when these environments gave him convenient and pleasant paths between his apartment, and caffeine. ¡°Hey guys.¡± James greeted his partners, the two of them sitting at a heavy wrought iron patio table. James deposited his coat in an empty chair, and leaned his walking stick on the wall nearby. ¡°Hope I¡¯m not too late.¡± ¡°Not too much. Why do you have a stick?¡± Anesh asked, eying the carved wood suspiciously. James grinned. ¡°It¡¯s my wizard staff.¡± ¡°Are you a wizard?¡± Alanna asked around a bite of the muffin she¡¯d bought. ¡°Actually asking, I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s your official title.¡± ¡°Well yeah, though not because of the staff.¡± James admitted. ¡°It¡¯s also not an official title. I think, for legal reasons, my rank actually is ¡®paladin¡¯, which I¡¯m not sure if I should be happy or embarrassed about.¡± Anesh sighed, and held out a hand, palm up. ¡°Does the staff...¡° He paused, ¡°actually I guess I need to be less sarcastic asking things like this these days. *Does* the staff do anything? Does it shoot fireballs?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, this isn¡¯t stargate.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°So you can¡¯t shoot fireballs¡± Alanna challenged him. James shook his head. ¡°Anyone can shoot fireballs, with a little effort.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± ¡°And the right training.¡± He added. ¡°So it can¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°And the gun that shoots fireballs.¡± James finalized. Anesh broke first. ¡°James what does the bloody stick do?!¡± ¡°It makes me feel like a wizard.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the wide smile off his face. ¡°Also it¡¯s a walking stick, because my feet hurt from all the endless running we do.¡± ¡°Go get your coffee.¡± Alanna and Anesh said in harmony, shaking their heads and pointedly turning away from him. With a quick laugh, James pulled open the glass door of the cafe, and went to place an order. Walking through lacquered wood tables and a fairly sizable crowd as he did so. It was, he realized, partially a good sign, that so many people were out and about again. Their area, at least, was on the road to recovery. James was still more than a little annoyed that he hadn¡¯t actually been able to punch the pandemic, either physically or metaphorically. But it was also a sign that the world moved on even if he didn¡¯t personally intervene. There were a lot of smart and dedicated people out there, solving problems at high speed, just like him. It felt good, to realize. It still made his teeth itch to see a crowd of more than five people after over a year of quarantine and lockdown procedures. But still. Optimism. Though as James turned to stand at the end of the counter and wait for his mocha, he did also notice that he and his partners weren¡¯t the only members of the Order here. At a table in the corner, Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight sat sharing a piece of cake; the camraconda doing an excellent impression of someone who was unbothered by the curious glances they were getting from the three tables that had line of sight on them. Well, two tables. One of them appeared to be a somewhat rambunctious group of teenagers, some of whom James recognized as people he¡¯d interviewed for internship positions. None of them were staring, even the ones who didn¡¯t actually work with the Order, which James could appreciate. He traded a nod and a smile with Deb, collected his coffee, and headed back out to the warm night to sit with his partners. ¡°So!¡± He asked as he slumped into his chair and painfully sat on the keys in his coat pocket. ¡°Is this just where everyone from the Order hangs out now?¡± ¡°Pretty much.¡± Alanna said, tipping a finger off her cup to point down the side of the cafe, to where Simon stood against a railing staring down at the pond that bordered the edge of this little shopping area. ¡°It¡¯s nice, the staff knows us, is used to our bullshit, and they have free cake for nonhumans.¡± ¡°Wait, seriously?¡± James quirked his eyebrows. Anesh gave a quick nod. ¡°Oh yeah, they¡¯ve got a sign for it and everything! Though I think it was here before us, and they meant ¡®cake for dogs¡¯. But¡­ well¡­ we¡¯re here now! And they actually stuck to it, which is kind of them.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nice.¡± James mused as he shifted back to a relaxed posture, letting his shoulders slump a bit as he leaned into the chair. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see normal people not caring about the camracondas. It makes me feel good. And fuck knows the snakes deserve some kindness.¡± Alanna swallowed her mouthful of drink and made an interjecting noise with her throat. ¡°I¡¯ve actually been meaning to ask about that.¡± She said when she could. ¡°And I wanna start this with ¡®I am not trying to be a shit¡¯. But, do the camracondas actually have the population needed to be a part of society? There¡¯s only¡­ forty of them?¡± She glanced at Anesh. ¡°Help me out here. Is that the right number?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a mathematician, not a wiki.¡± Anesh indignantly stretched out the word ¡®mathematician¡¯, putting emphasis on each individual syllable. ¡°...Also it¡¯s forty nine. You were close. Did you know James initially miscounted by, like, a dozen?¡± ¡°Technically fifty one, now.¡± James pointed out, rotating his drink in his hands and waiting for it to cool. ¡°Sort of. The two camracondas that Simon captured from the Office are¡­ I¡¯m not gonna say ¡®integrating¡¯, exactly. But they¡¯re in the custody of the others, and I¡¯m given to understand they¡¯re growing and learning.¡± ¡°That¡¯s really cool, but I¡¯m still just worried about population. It would suck to just drop them into the fray of Earth as an eternal minority, and tell them to go nuts, you know?¡± Alanna frowned. ¡°We¡¯ve got a numbers disparity.¡± ¡°Oh, oh!¡± James slapped the table, and instantly regretted it as he precariously rattled the drink in front of Anesh. ¡°Sorry! But I just thought of something!¡± ¡°We can¡¯t duplicate camracondas. They¡¯re too big.¡± Anesh told him dryly. ¡°Also the whole¡­ dungeon thing.¡± He waved a hand idly. James stuck out his tongue at his boyfriend. ¡°No no no. The stuff you brought back from the Akashic Sewer!¡± ¡°The stuff that smells, looks, and has the same chemical composition as, sloppy joe meat?¡± Anesh asked with a puckered grimace. ¡°Ugh.¡± Alanna commented. ¡°Double ugh. Why is *that* the stuff that makes me feel sick, and not the¡­ I dunno, river of literal puke?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, also can we please switch back to my thing, so I can enjoy food without feeling sick sometime in the next month?¡± James interjected. ¡°None of those things. The shaper substance! We know where to find it now, we know it can alter biology on a macro scale. We should probably check with Deb or, like, an actual expert, on if it actually changes genetics, but it could be something that could modify the camracondas to be able to¡­ you know¡­ have kids.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t the ratroaches say it¡¯s incredibly painful?¡± Alanna asked with a worried expression. ¡°And they were walking around unperturbed by broken ribs. ¡®Painful¡¯ for them is a high bar.¡± ¡°Deb had a plan for that.¡± James said. ¡°Also, side note, does anyone know if the ratroaches have names? Saying ¡®the ratroaches¡¯ over and over is getting weird.¡± ¡°We should ask Sarah.¡± Anesh suggested wisely. James nodded. ¡°Good plan. I¡¯ll text her.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Just ask her.¡± She pointed to behind James where Sarah was walking up to the door of the coffee shop, chatting and laughing with a group of people James didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°Okay, seriously, does *everyone* go here now?¡± James chuckled. ¡°Also I¡¯ll ask her later. She seems busy, and we¡¯re relaxing.¡± ¡°We absolutely are not.¡± Anesh told him. Alanna tilted her head at her boyfriend. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re talking shop. This is work. And I¡¯m supposed to be off for most of the rest of the day!¡± ¡°Oh yeah, Response tonight?¡± James asked her. ¡°Yup! By the way, thanks for telling me about the armor thing. Nik actually shaped me a custom plate. It¡¯s so much nicer.¡± Alanna said. ¡°But also, this doesn¡¯t count as relaxing either.¡± ¡°Well that one wasn¡¯t *my* fault.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°Alright, alright. No work stuff. Anesh! How¡¯s¡­ working for NASA¡­ going?¡± Alanna gave him a *look*, while Anesh just let out a snort of laughter. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s going! I¡¯m making friends with a lot of the other people there, actually, which is weird. I dunno if I¡¯ve ever talked about this, but syncing up to myself always leaves me feeling like I¡¯ve had really, really full days. Not busy, exactly, but *packed* with stuff. But yeah, it¡¯s going good. We¡¯re putting a new satellite telescope in orbit soon to watch sunspots, and I actually worked on it, and I don¡¯t know if I can fully express to you how ridiculously good it feels to *put something in space*.¡± Anesh glanced down at the table, partially hiding the small smile he was wearing. ¡°Oh! And I¡¯m on the unofficial NASA basketball team.¡± He added. ¡°That¡¯s a thing?¡± James asked, curious. ¡°Also wait, no, that¡¯s way less important than your first space project!¡± ¡°Oh, I only did a small part of the space thing. The basketball is way more impressive.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Can I just say, if I haven¡¯t before, that skipping the boring initial learning wall of a hobby makes it way more fun to engage with that hobby? Getting to get right to the meat of basketball has really given me an appreciation for playing it.¡± ¡°I feel the same way about a lot of skills, yeah.¡± James agreed. ¡°I think a lot of it is that learning usually takes a lot of failure. But before you have any way to contextualize that failure, it can just feel like a brick wall. At a certain point, you know enough to learn from it, but until then, it¡¯s just aggravating trial and error.¡± ¡°And breaking stuff!¡± Alanna added. ¡°Back when I was first starting to work in the garage, I completely bricked the motor assembly in a car window because I screwed one thing up. And I didn¡¯t know what thing, because I didn¡¯t know what thing, if that makes sense? *Now*, I could just look at it and see where I screwed up and just go ¡®welp, won¡¯t do that again¡¯. But then, it was like headbutting a rock. I messed up, and I *knew* I¡¯d do it again. That feeling sucks.¡± ¡°I often forget you were a mechanic.¡± James noted. ¡°I was lots of things!¡± Alanna cheerfully reminded him. ¡°Worked a bunch of stupid jobs. Mechanic was the most fun, like Anesh said, once I learned what I needed to learn.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry we¡¯re trying to put you out of a job by making cars obsolete.¡± ¡°No hard feelings.¡± Alanna told him wryly. They sat for a while, letting conversation lapse while they just enjoyed each other¡¯s company; sipping drinks and checking their phones, or just enjoying the evening. Until Anesh ruined it. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to ruin anyone¡¯s night.¡± He opened with ominously, ¡°But is that cop car watching us?¡± He tilted his head slightly, indicating direction. James and Alanna turned, not to look directly where Anesh was indicating, but instead toward each other. Making a small motion like they were secretly whispering to each other, and easily putting the indicated car in their view. ¡°Yes.¡± James said, as they turned back to Anesh. ¡°Probably.¡± ¡°Should we do something about that?¡± Anesh looked worried. Alanna sighed. ¡°The local police are *pissed*, because we¡¯ve been doing their jobs better than them.¡± She said. ¡°Technically, what we¡¯re doing is super illegal. But practically, no one has charged us with anything, and even though we aren¡¯t a big public group yet, word is getting around. So they don¡¯t want to randomly arrest us. But I think this is the start of them¡­ well¡­¡± ¡°Harassing and threatening members.¡± James growled. ¡°Not directly, at first. But making it implicit, and constant.¡± He rolled his shoulder. ¡°Because they¡¯re assholes.¡± ¡°Not *all* of them are assholes.¡± Alanna sighed. ¡°But that guy there, specifically, probably is?¡± Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°So, again, what are we doing about it?¡± ¡°Oh, nothing, right now.¡± James said. ¡°He seriously cannot hurt us. I dunno if they¡¯re aware of that, but it¡¯s just true. So we¡¯re just gonna sit here and *relax*. Also, yeah, how is Response going? I haven¡¯t had time to join a shift in a while, but I really want to.¡± ¡°It¡¯s going good! And we¡¯re back to talking shop.¡± Alanna pointed out with a grin, which even a worried Anesh returned. ¡°But whatever. It really is going good. A lot of what we do is honestly just medical transport, but we¡¯re *really* good at it. EMTs keep asking us for jobs. Oh, Harvey or Karen is gonna present a plan to you to actually go formal and interface with insurance companies so we can cover expansion costs. I dunno if I¡¯m supposed to tell you that, so act surprised?¡± ¡°I mean, that¡¯s cool. I¡¯d prefer it be free, though.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s a weird deal, you¡¯ll probably like it.¡± Alanna said. ¡°But yeah. Busy. And *weirdly* non violent! I mean¡­ just based on what I was expecting.¡± Anesh made an appreciative noise. ¡°It¡¯s better that way.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m helping out in one of the training courses later this week, and it¡¯s almost all deesclation and subdual tactics. And I think the fact that so far, that¡¯s basically all we¡¯ve needed, really drives home a point.¡± ¡°Well, also to be fair, we don¡¯t respond to certain things.¡± Alanna reminded him. ¡°Ehhhh.¡± James wobbled a hand. ¡°We don¡¯t respond to, like, shoplifting, or stuff like that.¡± ¡°Yeah, why is that?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t it still ¡®a problem¡¯?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a problem we aim to address in other, larger ways.¡± James told her. ¡°But also just on a practical level, it is literally not a problem. Unless someone is stealing from, like, a farmer¡¯s market? The company is gonna have loss insurance, and they¡¯re literally not ¡®losing¡¯ any money. Interference from us would just be punitive, and stupid, and most importantly, a waste of Response resources. Remember! If you see someone shoplifting food, no you didn¡¯t!¡± ¡°But we do get calls about it now.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°Kind of a lot of calls. I think people think we¡¯re reckless vigilantes.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Which is *totally* wrong.¡± Alanna leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. ¡°We are *very* precise vigilantes.¡± She looked over at James. ¡°Also to be clear, just because I expected something different doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m against this. It¡¯s working, you¡¯ve got good reasons, and that¡¯s good enough for me.¡± ¡°I do appreciate that.¡± James said. ¡°I know you¡¯ve got, like, a personal attachment to the idea of law enforcement. And I love you and shit, so I don¡¯t wanna be an asshole about it. But the way things are now just doesn¡¯t work, and we can do better.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the ¡®and shit¡¯ that really sells that sentence.¡± Anesh added. ¡°Ah, fuck it. I agree.¡± Alanna sighed, laying her head down on her arms. ¡°I don¡¯t *wanna*, you know? Like, I want things to be better *now*. But it¡¯s hard to not agree overall. And honestly, we can¡¯t punch every problem.¡± ¡°So I¡¯ve learned.¡± James admitted unhappily. ¡°Actually, James, you talked to Momo earlier, right?¡± Anesh asked him. ¡°Did she tell you about the new immunity programs?¡± ¡°Somewhat. Not all of them. She has supposedly sent me a list, but I haven¡¯t seen it yet.¡± James tapped at his phone, scrolling through messages and looking for anything from Momo. ¡°Or she¡¯s gotten sidetracked. Why, wondering if there¡¯s an ¡®immunity to the police¡¯ in there?¡± Alanna peaked out of her makeshift table bed. ¡°I think Sarah said there was one that gave immunity to words, but she might have been joking.¡± ¡°Like¡­ from¡­ being convinced of things? Like rhetoric?¡± Anesh narrowed his eyes and gnawed at his lip. ¡°Or like, if words caused physical damage? Like if something was too loud? How do we even *test* that?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t. We put it in a box and bring it out if it becomes relevant.¡± James told him. ¡°That said, a couple of these might come in handy for¡­ wait, hang on, I¡¯m getting sidetracked. Anesh, why did you ask about that?¡± His boyfriend gave a sheepish smile. ¡°Oh, I was gonna try to make a joke, but now I¡¯m sidetracked with the words immunity, and it wasn¡¯t funny. I really hope that isn¡¯t real. Anyway, go on.¡± ¡°Oh, I was just gonna say that some of them might be useful for climbing the mountain dungeon.¡± James said, eyes lighting up. Anesh and Alanna groaned. ¡°Uggggh.¡± Alanna expressed. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be cold and covered in snoooooow. I hate snow!¡± She moaned. ¡°Also wet.¡± Anesh added. ¡°And, you know, attempting to kill us. But yes, mostly cold and wet. Pretty bloody cold, too, from what we know.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon! Come on, where¡¯s your sense of adventure?¡± James gave them a vicious grin. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun! I mean, obviously, if you two want to come with me. I¡¯m not gonna make you or anything.¡± ¡°No, no, I¡¯ll go.¡± Anesh sighed loudly and dramatically, swirling the remaining coffee in his cup with a regretful expression on his face. ¡°I¡¯ll just complain the whole time.¡± Alanna had a different take on it. ¡°Do you think the mountain will have some kind of dragon¡¯s hoard of gold and loose gems?¡± She asked. ¡°...Maybe? Probably not?¡± James gave her a curious look. ¡°Why, do you know something I don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m just trying to psyche myself up for it.¡± She said. ¡°Look, I really hate snow. It snows here once every two years, and it¡¯s stupid, and no one knows how to drive in it, so I just hide inside until it goes away. Going to a mountain full of snow just seems like asking for trouble.¡± James reached over and rubbed her shoulder affectionately. ¡°You don¡¯t have to come with me, you know.¡± He told her. ¡°There¡¯s a ton to do here, and I think we¡¯re well past the relationship stage of needing to share every dungeon delve.¡± ¡°Is that a real thing?¡± Alanna asked. James and Anesh looked at each other with suddenly curious expressions. Both of them opened their mouths, but didn¡¯t say anything immediately. ¡°Ah¡­¡± Anesh hummed out. ¡°Yes? Kind of? Probably not.¡± ¡°I mean, there¡¯s a bad tendency that some partners have to want to do literally everything together.¡± James shrugged. ¡°So probably? We¡¯re all powered by magic now, but we¡¯re still people. Subject to the same problems as everyone else.¡± ¡°Until we stack enough immunities.¡± Anesh quipped. ¡°Yes, obviously. Think there¡¯s an immunity to communication problems?¡± ¡°That¡¯s called talking.¡± Alanna snorted. ¡°You two are adorable.¡± She muttered, making both boys blush and turn away with mild embarrassment. ¡°Also, did anyone name the mountain yet?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Anesh clicked his tongue as he thought. ¡°Momo¡¯s been adding to the operations manual with stuff about it, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s been titled yet. I think ¡®officially¡¯, that privilege goes to the first people in.¡± Alanna sat back up and stopped dramatically moping on the table. ¡°I overheard Liz saying she didn¡¯t think she was smart enough to give something a cool name.¡± ¡°I really find it awkward that people think the weird names I stole from other places for our dungeons are ¡®cool¡¯.¡± James glared into the lid of his mocha before taking a long, aggressive sip. ¡°...Where did you steal Officium Mundi from?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Is this going to be something that gets confusing in the future?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ a story Sarah read a long time ago online? And she named it, not me.¡± ¡°So no then.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°Good.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s rude!¡± James protested. ¡°It was kind of cool! I¡¯d recommend it, if I thought anyone had free time. Actually, wait, Anesh! You have multiplicative free time! I can recommend it to you!¡± Anesh politely nodded, then turned to Alanna. ¡°So, any ideas for mountain names?¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Alanna grinned as she rolled over James¡¯ protests. ¡°Well, we already used ¡®ascent¡¯ in something. How about Something-Pinnacle?¡± ¡°Ooh, I like that.¡± James nodded, aggregation dropped in an instant. ¡°I do think we should give Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn the option to name it first though.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It just feels like a fun tradition, that carries on the rules that biologists have for who gets to name species, right?¡± James took a small sip of his drink and sighed as the chocolate and coffee flavors covered his tongue. ¡°I dunno about you two, but I think it¡¯s kind of important that we actually have some fun.¡± ¡°I¡¯m in favor of fun.¡± Alanna vigorously nodded. ¡°But. Counterpoint! They are teenagers. What if they name it something dumb?¡± ¡°Color-Of-Dawn is¡­¡± Anesh trailed off. ¡°Camraconda ages are weird.¡± He concluded. ¡°They are *teenagers*.¡± Alanna insisted. ¡°Then they name it something dumb, and we get used to it, and it goes from being a joke to a cultural default. Just like every meme or piece of slang ever.¡± James gave her a long suffering look. ¡°Did you know the kids these days say ¡®bet¡¯ as a declarative affirmation verb?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s true, but I also can¡¯t prove you wrong.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Also that sounds dumb?¡± James chuckled. ¡°I mean, I bet that¡¯s what my parents thought every time I called something ¡®rad¡¯. And their parents thought when they said ¡®cool¡¯. Do you wonder if, like, there was some weird Roman slang for ¡®I like this¡¯ that irritated the parents of the time?¡± ¡°Oh, how could there not be?¡± Anesh stretched out, tilting his wire chair back onto two legs. ¡°It is the duty of children to annoy adults.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what people keep saying about us!¡± James cheerfully declared. The three of them shared a laugh. The conversation idled for a bit, as Anesh decided that he too wanted a muffin, and Alanna stood up a minute later to go use the restroom and stretch her legs. James enjoyed the brief alone time, casually reading about card games on his phone as he took in the night ambiance. There were shouts and laughs from down by the pond, one of the omnipresent groups of kids that James fondly remembered being when he was younger. The sound curled in the air around him, much like the warm night breeze and the smells of cooking food from the nearby restaurants, forming a comfortable blanket that no amount of police surveillance would cut through. James sighed and rolled his eyes as he had that thought, glancing over at the still-parked cop car, and the officer inside who was either on the longest lunch break ever, or was here waiting for something. He rolled his eyes, and decided his response to this would be a resounding ¡®whatever¡¯. There was, at the end of the day, only so much the police could do to stop them. There was a reason that Response teams never teleported to exactly where the problem was. And there was also a remarkably high level of security in being unable to be located. It wasn¡¯t impossible to infiltrate the Order, but it would be very, very hard for a militarized force to do significant damage to them. And maybe the local PD was, specifically, looking for him. Maybe thinking of arresting him, or worse. Well, good luck to them. James could teleport and block bullets, and had a handful of tricks besides. He knew, *knew*, he wasn¡¯t immortal or invincible. But it would take more than one cop menacing a parking lot to make him worry. Then Alanna came back and dropped into her seat, breaking his increasingly confrontational line of thought with a sigh. ¡°Anesh is still in line.¡± She informed him. ¡°Also, hey, it¡¯s really cool that no one gives a shit about the camracondas. You were right.¡± ¡°Heh. Thanks.¡± James tipped his mostly empty cup at her. ¡°Also Deb and Frequency are cute together.¡± He added. ¡°You know, I¡¯m still not all the way to fully remembering everything, but somehow, you being appreciative of interspecies romance surprises me exactly zero percent.¡± Alanna grinned like a shark at him. ¡°You¡¯re getting predictable!¡± ¡°Getting?!¡± James half-protested. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I¡¯ve been predictable the whole time!¡± He thudded his knuckles on the table for emphasis while Alanna laughed at his display. ¡°Unrelated,¡± Alanna said after she¡¯d stopped laughing and caught her breath, ¡°I wanted to ask something.¡± ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°It¡¯s about the baths in our basement.¡± She leaned forward on an elbow, turning her hand over as she tried to figure out how to word her question. ¡°Okay, so, it¡¯s *cool*, don¡¯t get me wrong. Like, it looks awesome, and it¡¯s not even done. But, uh¡­¡± She rubbed at her forehead. ¡°Is it not kind of weird?¡± ¡°Weird how?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, weird in that public baths aren¡¯t exactly a thing anymore?¡± ¡°Yes! That!¡± Alanna snapped her fingers. ¡°Society, as a whole, has mostly moved on, except for locker room showers, right?¡± James shrugged, a little defensively. ¡°I mean, yes. And I won¡¯t lie, I¡¯m not perfectly comfortable with it yet. But I think it¡¯s cool, and that discomfort is a me problem, you know? I like the idea of collective spaces, I think. I¡¯ll get used to being naked near other people. I¡¯m already comfortable being sarcastic to authority figures, and being shot at. Not wearing pants near my friends seems *easy*.¡± ¡°Okay, so, *yes* to all of that, and also more yes to you being pleasantly nude-¡° Anesh chose that moment to return with his pastry. ¡°Oh, are we talking about James naked again?¡± He asked with a bright smile. ¡°I¡¯m on board for this conversation.¡± ¡°Agh, no!¡± James stared up at the night sky, face a bright red. ¡°My culturally instilled hubris!¡± ¡°-but also that wasn¡¯t what I meant!¡± Alanna continued. ¡°And no. Kind of. We¡¯re talking about the baths.¡± She filled Anesh in. ¡°My main question is, why did *Bill* build it that way?¡± She asked. ¡°You, I get. You would absolutely build a cultural fusion magical fantasy public bath.¡± Alanna leveled an accusatory finger at James. ¡°But Bill *isn¡¯t you*. And even if he had help and suggestions, why did they land on this idea?¡± ¡°Mph!¡± Anesh swallowed the bite of blueberry muffin. ¡°I think I can answer that. Bill¡¯s thinking.¡± James and Alanna shared a glance, then looked back at Anesh. ¡°Explain?¡± James prompted. ¡°So, Bill¡¯s new-ish. But he¡¯s been around the Lair for a while, been helping out with stuff. He¡¯s starting to tap into our subculture. Now, he decides he wants to do something cool for everyone. Something impressive. So he thinks about how we act, and what we need, and puts the two together. He¡¯s not the kind of person who would default to a¡­ whatever we have in our basement now¡­ but he¡¯s the kind of person who can plan and think. So he just assumed you¡¯d think this would be cool, and went for it.¡± It was a reasonable explanation, but it left James with a new question. ¡°Okay, so, I get all that. But why does it look like¡­ you know¡­ that? Why not something more modern? Bill¡¯s kind of your average American. So how¡¯d he get to this style?¡± ¡°Oh! Easy.¡± Alanna answered. ¡°What¡¯s the coolest dungeon?¡± ¡°Clutter Ascent.¡± James and Anesh said simultaneously, not missing a single instant. Alanna nodded. ¡°Correct! And what does the bath remind you of?¡± ¡°Clutter Ascent.¡± They repeated in unison, reaching across the table to high five each other without looking. Alanna grinned as they turned their high five into curled fingers, the two boys hold hands almost without thinking about it as they waited for her to continue. She just shrugged. ¡°Well there you go!¡± Alanna spread her hands. ¡°That actually fits pretty well. Bill did also say that his kid suggested making the bath from Harry Potter, which¡­ I mean, same kind of vibe, right? Practical, but a little magical. Very magical, I guess.¡± ¡°The mosaic of Rufus on the wall is also kind of great. Think we can get one of Fredrick too?¡± James wondered. ¡°...The¡­ gecko guy from the attic?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Yup. Gecko raccoon spider thing. He¡¯s cute.¡± James nodded. ¡°Why is so much dungeon life combinations of other things?¡± Anesh asked, suddenly curious. ¡°We¡¯ve never really delved into that question.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I mean, reading the report from Momo, most of the mountain is just ¡®what if parts of the landscape were trying to kill you¡¯. So that¡¯s novel, at least.¡± ¡°Oh good, we¡¯re back to being beaten up by terrain.¡± James nodded a couple of times. ¡°You know, I think the first major injury from a dungeon delve was be being concussed by a plant?¡± ¡°What? No! It was when *someone* missed with a crowbar and broke my fingers.¡± Anesh retorted. James cleared his throat, looking sheepishly down at the table and wondering if he could hide under it, despite all the holes in its surface. ¡°Okay,¡± He said, deciding his escape was unlikely, ¡°well, in my defense¡­ I was still level one at the time.¡± ¡°That probably isn¡¯t a thing!¡± Anesh was being boisterous, but clearly wasn¡¯t actually mad. ¡°Ah, well. Now we can get beat up by new plants. It¡¯ll be fun, I¡¯m assuming. Also, we should *really* be bringing back samples of things to do more detailed analysis on. And, I¡¯m not sure if you know this, but Research wants to spend something like twenty thousand American monies on a spectrometer just for the weird Route rubber we brought back. So we may as well make them earn it.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, I *still* haven¡¯t been told what¡¯s weird about that stuff.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Do you know? Reed has been mysteriously absent for a while.¡± Alanna frowned. ¡°In that way where people go missing sometimes?¡± ¡°No, in the way that he¡¯s avoiding me.¡± James clarified. Then, seeing Anesh giving him a dubious look, he cleared his throat and added, ¡°Or he¡¯s very busy and a hard worker¡­¡± Anesh nodded at him, and James smiled. ¡°Anyway. Yeah, I¡¯ll catch up with him tomorrow or something.¡± He sighed, suddenly realizing that his arms were starting to get cold as the night wound on, and that he maybe should have worn a coat. James itched at the edge of the shield bracer on his left forearm. ¡°So hey, you two got any plans this week?¡± ¡°More Response.¡± Alanna said simply. James glanced over at her, and gave her a double take look to the small plate in front of her, raising his eyebrows at her suddenly absent muffin. ¡°Shut up.¡± She laughed at him. ¡°Yeah, more Response. Maybe a dungeon or something. More Sewer things?¡± Anesh made a concerned noise in his throat. ¡°We¡¯re not doing the Sewer this week. Experimenting with expansion, and how soon it starts to reach out. It seemed like the most ethical one to fuck with, considering it¡¯s¡­ you know¡­ a bloody monster.¡± ¡°It¡¯s also under a high school that is now in session?¡± James questioned. ¡°It¡¯s not perfect. But we¡¯ve got telepads and guns.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, but I agree with Reed. We need to know. Also I think Texture-Of-Barkdust is working with Lua now, which is safer, but¡­ um¡­ okay, I have to ask, *why* is no one making a big deal out of the camracondas?¡± ¡°I have no idea.¡± James admitted. Alanna pointed at him. ¡°Refuge in audacity. You¡¯ve gotten away with it a lot. It¡¯s a very real psychological thing that works on humans. You know that thing where you can get into most buildings with a high vis vest and a clipboard? Yeah, it¡¯s that. If they acted like they were asking permission, people might say no, but they¡¯re not. They¡¯re eating cake and sitting behind the guidance counselor''s desk.¡± She chuckled. ¡°It could also be a dungeon thing. But if it is, it¡¯s working hand in hand with goooooood ol¡¯ human blind spots.¡± ¡°Works for me.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Anesh? Got anything going on this week?¡± His boyfriend glowered at him. ¡°I mean, now I¡¯m going to be trying to shape an infomorph to test if human psychological effects are weird bollocks or not.¡± Anesh said. ¡°But also, I¡¯m checking in on our cancer orb distribution project. We¡¯ve got a stockpile built up now, and the two people we picked to get it rolling are coming by the lair to discuss starting. I think the other me is doing the Office run, just to fire off another dozen duplication boxes of anti-cancer orbs, too. We¡¯ve got a good supply of mana coffee coming in now, which is neat.¡± ¡°No word on that other ritual?¡± James asked. ¡°In the tower we found last week?¡± ¡°...How, exactly?¡± Anesh asked him. James raised a finger and opened his mouth, before going quiet, and slowly lowering his hand. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°We really need a full time post in the dungeon.¡± James grumbled, looking indignant. ¡°What about you?¡± Alanna asked him, giving him a reassuring pat on the head. ¡°Saving the world again or something?¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m mostly doing research and culture stuff. A couple interviews, giving a short tour to an independent review group for the Response program, meeting some of our members that I haven¡¯t before. Figuring out what weird fucking strategy game half the high school kids and camracondas seems to have set up in the lobby. That kind of thing. Oh! And visiting a school, taking notes on that.¡± James leaned forward, and his partners gave small smiles as he started talking in that voice he used when he¡¯d just learned something new and wanted to share it with anyone who crossed his path. ¡°So, there¡¯s a style of school that¡¯s pretty much only used for exceptionally young kids called a Montessori school. Or maybe it¡¯s the Montessori method. Doesn¡¯t matter. The point is, the idea is that it uses hands on teaching and self directed learning, with the teachers largely there to be guides, as opposed to lecturers. So it¡¯s less ¡®you have to learn math¡¯ and more ¡®find something you think is cool, and we can help you learn the math you need to get really into it¡¯. I like the idea, but I¡¯m woefully underinformed, as this rambling explanation may have clued you in on. So I¡¯m gonna go ask some questions, look around, and see if it¡¯s the kind of thing we want to implement on an arcology scale.¡± ¡°I *knew* this was gonna be an arcology thing!¡± Alanna laughed heartily. ¡°*Is there*, James, *anything* that you aren¡¯t planning to put in your magical future city?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ cars?¡± James widened his eyes as he thought. ¡°Crime and poverty? Transphobes. I dunno, I¡¯ll make a list for you.¡± ¡°Wait, so you¡¯re not doing any dungeon stuff this week?¡± James gave another idle shrug. ¡°I might go check out Route Horizon with some people down there. I plan on doing regular check ins with the ratroaches anyway, just to make sure they¡¯re doing alright. Getting acclimated to things like sunlight and not being at constant risk of stabbing.¡± He pushed his chair back, and stretched, indicating that he was about ready to head out. ¡°Right now, though, I¡¯m good to walk back. Either of you wanna come with me?¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m just gonna telepad back to the Lair.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Anesh?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll come with you. I¡¯m just helping set up a server rack in the basement, but it¡¯s still a thing I promised to do. Shouldn¡¯t take too long?¡± Their boyfriend did not look like he believed himself. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll see you later tonight, yeah?¡± Alanna asked James. ¡°I¡¯ll be at home, yeah!¡± James smiled and stood, bending down at the waist to give Alanna a kiss. Then he pivoted on the ball of his foot like a dancer, still leaning forward, to give the same kiss to Anesh. ¡°See the two of you later!¡± The three of them shared a group hug before parting ways, Anesh and Alanna slipping around the corner and out of sight from the road to teleport away, and James spinning around to walk back the way he¡¯d came. He passed by the big plate glass window of the cafe as he did so, and couldn¡¯t help but give a giddy grin as he saw Frequency-Of-Sunlight lean forward to flick her tongue over Deb¡¯s nose. He passed by the cop car as he left; still there, still watching. James gave the guy inside a sarcastic salute, before rounding the corner around another building himself. He briefly considered teleporting home, just in case, but that might have been too suspicious, even for him. So he just shoved his increasingly chilly hands in his pockets, and started heading back at a brisk pace. James stopped at his apartment just long enough to grab a coat, and to greet the giant white ball of fuzz named Auberdeen that met him at the door. He asked the dog if she wanted a walk - in Spanish, of course, the language the dog had picked up from an orb - and still feeling pretty energized, James clipped a leash to their pet-and-maybe-roommate, and headed back out into the night. It had been a good day. Just¡­ nothing happening. There were absolutely things happening at the Lair, and there always would be. But there was no crisis that James needed to solve. No huge problems he had to address right now. His main responsibility today was to make dinner later for his loves, and see how many episode of Castlevania he could get through. Tomorrow, there would be time to help out around the Lair. To dig into how to abuse the magics they¡¯d earned. To try to build a city in a day. To hire some people. To answer some questions. To do *so much*. But the days off helped him look forward to it with an excitement he thought that he¡¯d lost a long time ago. And so he valued this downtime a lot. Even if he was itching to see if he and Anesh actually could pilot that weird mech they¡¯d built in the basement. But again. That was for tomorrow. Right now, he had a dog to walk. Chapter 167 ¡°Unseen in the background, Fate was quietly slipping lead into the boxing glove.¡± - P.G. Wodehouse, Very Good Jeeves! - _____ James rolled over in bed, pulling the blankets around himself like a cocoon. They¡¯d gotten new blankets recently - recently, to him, meaning sometime in the last two years - and he still wasn¡¯t fully used to the feeling of them on his skin. The sprawling bed that took up most of the room¡¯s floor space currently held himself, an Anesh who was reading under the warm light of a desk lamp, and a dramatically snoring Alanna. It was a little too warm, a little too crowded, and also perfect. It had struck him suddenly, earlier in the evening. That his life felt perfect. Lived in, occupied, and fully his own. He had challenges, but they were ones he took on of his own volition. He probably had enemies, but they existed in the abstract for now. And he had partners. To say that James didn¡¯t have much experience with relationships would be a bit of an understatement. He had pretty much no experience with romance. And his time with Alanna and Anesh had, for a while, been plagued with him constantly worrying he was going to screw something up. He¡¯d poked fun at Anesh for that same feeling, but he should have just been honest and shared that he felt it too. But their relationship hadn¡¯t actually *changed* much, had it? They were still the closest companions, still trusted each other with their lives. They just¡­ also shared a bed. And kisses. And other things. More comfort, both emotional and physical. They could be vulnerable around each other, in a way they never really had before. James hadn¡¯t really thought any of this, exactly. Not now, buried in blankets and on the nicest bed he¡¯d ever owned. Instead, he¡¯d more felt it, a settling ember of warmth in the core of his soul. Then he finished rolling over, and was asleep almost instantly. Some time later, James dreamed. It was a strange place. An upstairs attic, segmented into blocky cubes of space, perched atop a snow capped peak but also deep within the sewer complex that ran under an endless road. He was everywhere he had ever been, and nowhere that mattered. He was also running from something. Running in that ineffectual dream state way, where your legs burned but you didn¡¯t move, where the pursuer was always gaining on you, forever, even if you were never caught. It was a black shadow, studded with stars and impulses. It stalked after him. It was always stalking him. Even as he failed to run, and the landscape shifted underfoot, cycling through bad footing and sharp edges. The shadow was always there, waiting for him. Dreaming or not, it was always there. But it had changed, somehow. It was aware of him now. Before, his depression was a natural consequence of brain chemistry. A parasite that James couldn¡¯t really be that mad at. It just did its job. But now¡­ It was aware. In a grim, predatory way. Somewhere deep below the surface of chemistry, psychology, and biology. His depression had been transformed, into a being that *hated him*. That was trying as hard as possible to erase James, and replace him with itself. Which wouldn¡¯t work, really. Even dreaming, and terrified, James knew that he was stronger than it. But it was still trying. And he was still running. He passed by a crumbling wall, covered in etchings of all the different things he had learned to advance his Lessons. He passed a precipice that showed him golden streamers out of the dream, links to Anesh and Sarah. He walked over a bottomless foul pit that sparkled with the points of light from his Skills. And the creature followed. James passed by another figure. An orange glitter, that spoke in directions and destinations. The words were strangely real, and his sleeping mind woke slightly, folding a wall of stabilized dreamspace around them. ¡°Thanks.¡± James told the Map. ¡°Anytime.¡± The Map replied easily. ¡°Especially if that time is spent on the road, and not waiting around.¡± James rolled his dream self¡¯s eyes. ¡°To be fair,¡± his mind woke a bit more, but held within the dream, ¡°I¡¯m not really ¡®waiting¡¯. I¡¯m just not covering geographical distance.¡± ¡°Same thing.¡± The Map rippled. It wasn¡¯t a person yet. Not really. But it was getting there, and apparently it was learning snark as its first language. Though James knew that it wouldn¡¯t be free to make that choice until he completed the task it was created for. Which meant, at least a little bit, a road trip. He would have grinned, but the last road trip he¡¯d gone on had been *a problem*. ¡°Time¡¯s up.¡± The Map said, pointing at the failing dreamwall and the nightmare seeping through. James sighed, and felt himself toss and turn in the real world slightly, as his lucidity was pulled away and he fell back into the terror of endless flight. Dark rooms, slippery falls, always running from a monster that wouldn¡¯t die. Rejection, failure. Failing the people who trusted him. Failing the world, before it had a chance to thrive. Anxieties piled on fears, dragging James downward. The nightmare stretched on. James fled to somewhere else. _____ Elsewhere. Simon dozed on a cot in the Response hall. ¡°Hall¡± was a high minded way of saying ¡°the basement they¡¯d taken over¡±, but it still worked. They had a couple rooms here, set up as communal sleeping spots for people who were on call, but maybe needed a rest. It was a forward looking precaution; Response was growing, for sure, but they currently had more people than problems, and the fact that they often saved on telepad usage by staying out in the field until the next call came in meant that there often weren¡¯t a lot of people around here to take advantage of the beds. But Simon was pretty much always on call. Even when he wasn¡¯t scheduled, he stayed here, dozing lightly, and waiting for the next problem he could solve. Dozing, and being someone else. It had taken about three days after the assault on the Lair from Status Quo, and the death of his partner, for Simon to notice that sometimes he looked in the mirror and saw the wrong face. That he¡¯d seen James - his James, he always rolled his eyes at the people who apparently couldn¡¯t tell from context clues which James they were talking about - looking back at him. A month later, and sometimes he forgot which one he was. He¡¯d look down and see hands that weren¡¯t his, because in that moment, he wasn¡¯t Simon. Someone would call a name, and he wouldn¡¯t know if he was meant to respond or not. And when he slept, which he did rarely these days¡­ ¡°You really need to sleep more.¡± James told him. Simon wasn¡¯t as good at dreaming as a lot of members of the Order inexplicably seemed to be, so he couldn¡¯t exactly scowl. But he wasn¡¯t fully asleep anyway, so he gave it a shot. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look.¡± James flicked his nose. ¡°Especially not with our face.¡± Simon tried to say something. He was sitting against a tree, looking out over a river that he¡¯d never seen before from atop a small cliff. He¡¯d been here a lot as a kid, it was a spot his parents had always loved, and he¡¯d never seen it before. He glanced down, to where James sat next to him. His right arm, and James¡¯ left, were overlapped, blurred together into the same shape. ¡°Sorry.¡± James said sheepishly. ¡°I¡¯m not keeping away very well.¡± Simon didn¡¯t know how to tell him that he didn¡¯t need to do that. That he¡¯d caught this chunk of him, at the moment of death, explicitly so he could be here. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Simon¡¯s James sighed, ¡°but this brain isn¡¯t built for it.¡± He trailed off, and the two of them just sat and watched the river. And bit by bit, Simon familiarized himself with it. With the muddy bank that always crumbled slightly before you thought it would when you stood on it. With the underwater plants that absolutely weren¡¯t eels, but sure felt like it. With the water that was too cold, especially when it was sunny out. With all the things that the ghost of James remembered. Until there weren¡¯t two thoughts; one of recognition, and one of alienation. Just familiarity. Still split; one of them had *lived* this, after all. But there was less of a divide. James lifted their shared arm, and flexed intermingled fingers with raised eyebrows. ¡°Neat.¡± He said. ¡°Why?¡± Because, Simon wanted to tell him, I am getting tired of being me. ¡°Not a good reason, man.¡± James shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s okay to let me go, you know? I dunno how. But the support group could probably help.¡± The sun set on the river. You¡¯d die, Simon said. ¡°Eh. Yeah. I mean, it sucked the first time.¡± James laughed, and Simon felt the dream shudder around them as he made light of his own demise. ¡°But I¡¯ve got practice now!¡± The night cooled around them. It¡¯s not fair, he told James. ¡°Nothing in the past three years has been fair.¡± James¡¯ ghost shrugged. ¡°What¡¯re you gonna do about it?¡± ¡°Maybe you can take over.¡± Simon finally said out loud. ¡°And I¡¯ll sit here, and watch the trees.¡± His friend and partner gave him a shocked look, full of fear and unplaced anger. ¡°Or maybe, I should stop running.¡± Simon suggested, almost to himself. ¡°Maybe we should just double down, on what we were always doing. Being one person. Maybe this mind isn¡¯t built for it. But so what? Magic. That¡¯s all. It¡¯s magic.¡± ¡°You might lose yourself.¡± James whispered, the ghost shivering with regret. ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill you, just so part of me sticks around.¡± ¡°What is ¡®me¡¯, anyway?¡± Simon asked. And the question, even in this half-awake dream, sparked something in him. What *was* he? Who had he become? He¡¯d been a delivery driver, before being stolen by a dungeon monster and held prisoner for over a year. Then he¡¯d become a survivor. Then a delver. Then a teacher, a fighter, a partner, a part of something bigger. A Response member. A Knight. And for all the parts of that which mattered, James had been there with him. The two of them spending so much time in a full link through the skulljacks that they¡¯d almost ceased to be two people. So why did Simon care now? Why did either of them? Especially James, who was dead, and had nothing to lose anyway. The dream shook, along with Simon¡¯s body. He wanted to stay, to say more. But¡­ maybe he didn¡¯t need to. Also he was out of time. He woke up to someone lightly shaking him awake. ¡°Hey.¡± The kid, Marcus, stepped back. ¡°Everyone¡¯s tied up and we need a medivac. You awake enough? Orange-Summer-Evening is ready to go now.¡± Simon and James looked down at their hands, and flexed familiar fingers. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± They said, swinging their feet off the cot and rapidly waking up as they jammed them into shoes. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± The dispatcher didn¡¯t stick around, trusting Simon to hustle once he was ready. And, striding down the hallway to the main room as he pulled on his coat, Simon passed by the small security office that had a window into its interior. He caught his reflection in it. His partner¡¯s face looked back at him, apprehension evident on it. Simon smiled, and a second later, James did the same. Then he winked at Simon, and the two of them moved. They had places to be, right now. People to save. They¡¯d catch up in the next dream. But after all that had happened, they were still here. Still themself. _____ Elsewhere Myles sat in the front seat of his car. Well, not *his* car. Another rental, another city. He was getting good at adapting to different feelings of acceleration and potencies of brakes. He was getting good at a lot of things. A lot of weird, esoteric things. Like how to identify the caliber of a gun by the sound of a shot. And then, how to pull up the menu for the bracer on his arm and toggle it to intercept that bullet. Probably wouldn¡¯t save him from the first shot, but if that one didn¡¯t kill him, he¡¯d gotten fast enough at it to make sure the follow up shots absolutely didn¡¯t connect. Or other things, like getting good at subtly mimicking accents in a way that made people just a little more comfortable talking to him. Or, hell, even just asking questions in the first place. Starting conversations with random people, asking strange things, but using a lot of little tricks to not stick in their memory. He¡¯d asked once why they didn¡¯t just get Planner to blip their presence out of people¡¯s memories. Nate had just rolled his eyes, but James had given him a real answer; it was kind of evil. But also, it wasn¡¯t practical. On a very real level, Planner *was* the act of scheduling and allocating time to projects. And Myles¡­ was not a good carrier, for that particular infomorph. When he¡¯d asked why they didn¡¯t make an infomorph that was raised on Bond movies, Nate had gone into a *very* in depth explanation of all the ways that Bond was a bad spy, while James had just quietly slipped out of the room and left Myles to his fate. Right now, he was wishing that he¡¯d bought coffee. Any kind of coffee, magical or otherwise. Though, after a few months of this kind of thing, Myles had started to develop a belief that cheap gas station coffee was, in fact, some kind of arcane substance. But he hadn¡¯t even thought to pick up any of that, and now he was stuck here. ¡®This kind of thing¡¯ and ¡®here¡¯ were a bit interlinked. He¡¯d been catapulted away from helping JP with the cleanup of Townton, and set back on what he had figured were more typical Rogue duties. In this case, following and snooping on a particular individual. Who was an Alchemist. Or at least, a member of the Guild Of Alchemists. Or the Alchemists Guild? Myles couldn¡¯t, and on principle wouldn¡¯t, remember the difference. Either way, this guy, who was about seventy years old and who drove like he was a teenager with their first car, was the person Myles had been tailing all day. It was, in brief, a bit surreal. The man wore custom fitted hand tailored shirts. He also shopped at Dollar General, and carried his own bags to his car. His car, which was some kind of BMW, that had been waxed to a mirror shine. The man who lived in a goddamn hillside mansion, the sole building perched up a winding trail into the wooded realm. Myles hadn¡¯t even bothered to follow him; he knew a trap when he saw one, even if it was a very pleasant looking drive of a trap. Instead, he¡¯d backtracked slightly, and parked in the small strip mall down the street. Unless his target had an interest in visiting one of the dotted farms along the road, or had some kind of secret access tunnel - not out of the question, honestly - he¡¯d probably pass by here when he left anyway. So Myles waited, keeping an eye out for that ridiculous car, and his window of opportunity to go ransack¡­ *carefully search* the mansion of an ancient alchemist. Of course, while he thought the word ¡®ancient¡¯, Myles was pretty aware that this guy was just regular old. By this point, the rogues had been made aware of the existence of things like the Old Gun or the Last Line Of Defense, and the fact that the latter one at least probably predated the existence of this country. So ancient was getting a lot more relative. There was a stray thought, the kind that he couldn¡¯t keep away sometimes, that maybe one day he¡¯d be that ancient. Myles wondered if he¡¯d be able to keep his perspective. Would he still be¡­ this? Sitting in a rental car, planning to turn some guy¡¯s sock drawer inside out looking for secrets? Would he still be having fun? Because no mistake, this was *fun*. Even just sitting in a car, waiting, had turned into a heart pounding game of chicken with fate. Although it was stretching on a little bit, and the warm car interior was more comfortable than it maybe should have been, compare to the chilly, dark, rainy day outside. Myles didn¡¯t really *intend* for what was supposed to be a long blink to turn into a short nap. And yet, that¡¯s exactly what happened. When he woke up, he¡¯d swore as he realized he¡¯d missed his window of opportunity, and was going to have to try again tomorrow. He¡¯d dreamed of being very old. But still having fun. _____ Elsewhere. Ava¡¯s bedtime had become something of a running joke around the Lair. Jeanne, her mom, had decided after a long conversation with a few other survivors that made their home here, to reject the offer of a hotel room somewhere or even a trip back home, and to stay in one of the guest rooms the Lair had on offer now. Jeanne and Ava weren¡¯t actually *from* Townton; they had survived the disaster there relatively unscathed, financially. Jeanne still had a small apartment around Chattanooga, though apparently she was being fined a half month¡¯s rent for being late on rent, in a move that would have crippled her two months ago. And yet¡­ Going home didn¡¯t feel right, at the moment. Partially because she didn¡¯t feel safe out in the world. James had said, offhandedly once, that her daughter was one of the safest people on Earth. Because humans, you see, did not have natural defenses against infomorphs. She had extrapolated this, without realizing it, to mean that there was a whole ecosystem of things that killed humans out there, and no one knew about it. No one could stop it, or fight back. Except, of course, the people in this building, where she had chosen to stay for a while, for completely coincidental reasons. Probably because her daughter had made friends with several of the camracondas, and she didn¡¯t want to disappoint her daughter, obviously. The camracondas had terrified Jeanne when she¡¯d first gotten here. And then, after talking to one of them for more than two minutes, had broken her heart with how horrible their story had been so far. By this point, if she was being honest, she stuck around probably because she had as many friends in their small community as her daughter did. It also helped that there were not any outside obligations at the moment, since her two week absence while she¡¯d been mind controlled by an apparently-not-hostile patch of highway had led to Jeanne losing her job. She couldn¡¯t even blame her employers for that, much as she wanted to blame someone, anyone, for *something*. Being here, she could keep busy. She helped out in the kitchen, mostly. Or helped Karen with whatever the eternally moving woman needed. At one point, she found herself in an attic that went on for too long, being instructed on the proper care routine for a living raincloud. Sarah had given her a small wooden dowel after that, and told her to share it with someone important to her. Though Jeanne had instantly thought of her daughter, she hadn¡¯t actually gotten around to it yet. Partially because, despite her newfound free time and all the quality time she was spending with Ava, the girl was remarkably good at vanishing when she didn¡¯t want to be found. Or, like now, when she sensed that she was supposed to be doing something. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Jeanne poked her head into the mostly empty kitchen, nodding to Knife-In-Fangs as she scanned the half-lit room for her daughter. There was no sign of her, and the camraconda shook his head when she gave him a questioning glance. Jeanne sighed. It was two minutes after nine PM, and she *knew* that it would be another half hour until this was resolved. Ava¡¯s bedtime was something of a running joke for the Order. Currently, the young girl was absolutely not in bed like she was supposed to be. As someone who would be turning thirteen on her next birthday, the concept of a bedtime was frankly rather insulting. Not that she¡¯d really thought that deeply about the indignity of being assigned time to be asleep; it was more a prevalent ongoing sense that she was somehow being disrespected for wanting to stay up until midnight doing more fun things. Ava had once told James that she could stay up *very late*, up to and including midnight. For some reason, he¡¯d just laughed at her. Right now, though, no one was laughing at her. Right now, Ava was *sneaking*. The basement that Response occupied was constantly busy. It was apparently plucked from a university somewhere, according to Harvey; lots of maintenance corridors and bits where wire grates had walled off small storage spaces before they¡¯d been cleared out, all of it occasionally coming together in one of the two larger open spaces. One they used for all the phones and stuff, the other as a kind of hub for the Response people to relax in. But there were a *bunch* of small hiding places around, and Ava was having fun exploring them. There was a storage area here that was way off in the corner, that hadn¡¯t been cleaned out yet, that just had a bunch of rugs in it. The carpet was scratchy and unpleasant, but crawling through them like a forest of padded trees, surrounded by the smell of old fabric, was still fun. There was a cabinet in the break room that was bigger on the inside than it should have been, and Ava could fit inside and poke around for a while. And of course, there was the dispatch floor itself, which she absolutely wasn¡¯t supposed to be in. But she slipped in anyway, Hidden perched on her head just under her hood, keeping both of them stealthed against prying eyes. Ava still had to be careful to be out from underfoot. But she really loved coming down here and listening in. Watching Response teams joking with each other, hearing the tension in the dispatcher¡¯s voices go up and down as they took calls and sent out solutions. Sometimes, a team would come back injured, and Ava would hold her breath as they were checked out. Often times, they would be checked out by Nikhail, who would come running, something green and complex sitting on his arm as he turned serious injuries into minor inconveniences, or minor wounds into nothing. Ava had decided that Nikhail was cute, which was a first for her, but it didn¡¯t diminish the intensity of her goal to one day do what he did. She hid in her corner and watched Response operations for a while, just sitting and feeling like she was as cool as they were just to be here. But, for all her sneaking around, Ava was still a kid. And she was asleep sooner, rather than later; Hidden still perched on her head also dozing off and fading into her hair as she did so. Upstairs, Jeanne opened the door to the supply closet looking for her daughter, found nothing, and turned to close the door and continue down the hallway. As she eased it shut, though, she revealed a member of the Order standing there looking a little awkward. ¡°Message for you, ma¡¯am.¡± Davis said politely. ¡°Planner wants you to know your kid fell asleep on schedule, and¡­¡± he cleared his throat, ¡°¡®would you please fetch her from the back left corner of the Response dispatch floor?¡¯ Uh, if you¡¯re not too busy.¡± Jeanne stared at the older man for a while, who had the good grace to look at least a little uncomfortable with the situation, before she sighed. ¡°Thanks.¡± The exasperated mother shook her head. ¡°And tell Planner thank you, too. Which one is Response?¡± ¡°Third basement.¡± Davis told her. ¡°Have a good night!¡± He called over his shoulder, walking off to deliver another message from the infomorph that was primarily hosted by Research. By the time Jeanne found Ava, she and Hidden were fast asleep. They dreamed of flying. _____ Elsewhere Anesh had been asleep in the rather spartan studio apartment that he rented near his second job for most of the night. Soon, he¡¯d have to wake up. Go to work. Do brain things. But right now, he just rolled over, and pushed himself back into dreamland. He¡¯d been having a dream about an unreal future. Some sliver of it yet remained, and he tried to will himself back to that moment. Of standing on the edge of an orbiting stardock, watching some impossibly large ship unmoore itself and begin to slide out into open space. It carried, he knew, the collective hope of Earth. Why, he couldn¡¯t say. Anesh didn¡¯t know if the dream was a happy or a sad one. He just wanted to see how it ended. Dreaming alone had actually become kind of novel for Anesh. Not *this specific* Anesh - there were four of him active currently - but for the collective Anesh in general. Most Anesh¡¯s, when they slept, tried to do so at the same time, so they could resync their personalities and memories while they were unconscious. And yes, this Anesh would teleport back every week or two to link back up. But more nights than most of the others of himself, he slept alone. It was strange, to be the one doing the sleeping alone, when he had parallel memories of spending most nights sleeping with James or Alanna. And yet, he had exactly as much personal space as he wanted; he got to sleep with his partners every night, and sleep alone every night. And due to the human mind¡¯s preference for remembering the nice parts of stuff, he never felt crowded or lonely respectively. Instead, he got the best parts of both; warm and loved, and *also* with no one stealing his blankets and all the leg room he wanted. Dreams were an exception, though. Each Anesh always knew which dreams were their own. It was part of how they all knew that they were copies of the original, how they knew that the *first* Anesh had died a while back. And dreaming alone was somehow becoming novel to him. What a strange life. His dream came back into focus. He was talking to people. The time-dreadnaught was complete. The endless pathway had been breached. The admiral needed something. She always needed something. And there was a ringing¡­ somewhere, distant, a ringing that got louder and louder and louder¡­ Anesh woke up, glaring at the ceiling. It was still dark out, but there were a cluster of glow in the dark star stickers staring back at him that James had gotten him as an unnecessary housewarming gift. ¡°God dammit.¡± He groaned, reaching out and expertly slapping the button on his phone that disabled the alarm, before flopping that arm over his eyes and trying to get the blood moving to his fingers. The dream was gone. No one else with him to stabilize him into sleep, to create a shared end with. Just an alarm clock that woke him up with brutal efficacy and the longing for a conclusion that wouldn¡¯t come. Dreams, for this Anesh, didn¡¯t have satisfying endings. They were a lot like real life in that way. Interesting stuff happening, and then an abrupt cutoff. He wasn¡¯t as masochistic as James was, thinking that nightmares were part of the fun of being a dreaming human. But there was a certain thrill to shared dreams, where you never *quite* knew if the other minds you were dreaming with were going to go the way you expected. With his own dreams, though? Anesh always knew how they ended. With him waking up, and being frustrated that he couldn¡¯t stay in bed longer. It was a Monday. Which meant that relatively soon, members of the Order would once again venture into peril for the betterment of themselves and the world. But it also meant Anesh was going to be late for work if he didn¡¯t get off his ass. He might be a genius who was getting *really* good at orbital physics. But he worked with a hundred other people who were all smarter than he was, and while he wasn¡¯t the *most* replaceable person in the world, there were only so many times he could tell John that he had a ¡®family emergency¡¯ before his immediate supervisor would start to get annoyed. Anesh swung his feet out of bed and rubbed at his eyes. And then, he smiled. Because even though he had to get out of bed, and experience all the downsides of a Monday, he still got to go work on a goddamn space program. It was, all on its own, a special kind of dream. And it made him feel a lot better about not getting to go dungeon delving personally. _____ Elsewhere. Clutter Ascent lived in a dream. People were real, she knew this. But they were white smoke and dim lights moving through her. Nothing like the warm sparks that she had made herself. Walls were real too. Her own walls were more real, but there were other walls outside. They stretched on forever, they were labyrinth paths and deep secrets that she could not understand. Certain actions were also real. Moments frozen in time, bits of happy glass that caught the light and smoke and made it glitter for an instant, gone in a blink if she didn¡¯t catch them. But just because they weren¡¯t as easy to see in her drifting sleepy state didn¡¯t make them any less precious. They were all important. Even the ones that she couldn¡¯t feel, but could ¡®hear¡¯ moving around ¡®below¡¯ her. They didn¡¯t come into her self; somehow, she knew it was an old fear that she couldn¡¯t quite understand but had been told about by someone. But they were still here. They protected her. And because of them, she didn¡¯t have to make any war-sparks. So they were also real, and important. Clutter Ascent was almost always dreaming, but that didn¡¯t make her not aware. Her dreams were everything that happened, and everything shared with her. She dreamed of sugary breakfasts, awkward attempts to learn the guitar, laughter, and stories. *So many* stories! The important and very real people would read to her, when they visited. Or read to each other. Tales that they seemed to pull out of nowhere like she pulled her sparks. At first, she had thought they were trying to influence her somehow. But then, over time, she started to understand. Stories were both real, and not real. And also something else! They did not happen, but it didn¡¯t matter, because they could still be real anyway. And they weren¡¯t pulled from nowhere, but pulled from *books*. Books were real, in an incredibly dense way. They were real much like the people were real, lights and smoke. But the more she listened to them, the denser and more solid the smoke became, the brighter the light shone and multiplied. And so Clutter Ascent had listened, enraptured, to a hundred different stories. Drawing meaning and truth from tales of distant cities, strange creatures, kind wizards, and daring adventures. Many of the stories talked of colors. She didn¡¯t know exactly how colors could be described, but she took what she could from it, and made more sunsets. The smoke and lights of the people that visited her stopped often to observe the new sunsets. Which was good! They were quite nice! Clutter Ascent stirred in her sleep, as a thought echoed through her self. She should *write* a book! Apparently, people did it all the time, judging by the seemingly endless library that was growing in her depths! She should add to it! Share a story in turn! But how? She had no stories. This was a problem. Clutter Ascent turned in her dream, and, mostly out of an unknown reflex, pulled the smoke of reality out of several of the stories she had been told. Then, she collapsed them down into the format that had become familiar. Pages, a cover, several images and several more words. A beginning, middle, and end. Mmm. No. No end. Endings were always sad, because even when they were happy, the story was over. No end. The dream receded, and the book hissed into reality. It didn¡¯t have the same smoke and light that the other books or walls or people did. It looked like her own walls, or her own sparks. But it was there! Sitting with the stack of other stories they had brought her. Clutter Ascent gave a multidimensional yawn. That had been *exhausting*. She swirled in satisfaction, though, as she drifted back to the dream. _____ Elsewhere. Frequency-Of-Sunlight slept in an unfamiliar bed. Which is to say, she slept in a bed. For the last several years, ever since waking up to the reality of being truly alive, she¡¯d mostly slept in a pile of other camracondas. Or curled up in a corner under a desk somewhere. Even upon being teleported out of the body of her creator, and into the freedom of the true world, she¡¯d spent a lot of time sleeping curled up under things. Though James had, in his own words, ¡®raided every Bed Bath and Beyond within a ten mile radius for pillows and stuff¡¯ to provide a mass of collective bedding for her people. It had taken her a month or two to figure out what a Bed Bath and Beyond was, and then another week to think of looking up how many there were within that distance. There was exactly one. And she¡¯d assumed it was another endless space just judging by the volume of blankets, until Deb had explained human logistics. Human logistics was its own brand of terrifying, really. But it was one of the first conversations she¡¯d had with Deb. Which made it special. Shortly after that, she¡¯d chosen a name. Someone had told her that a name should be something either important to her, or that she wouldn¡¯t mind hearing for the rest of her life, or that she pulled out of a hat. She didn¡¯t have a hat, and didn¡¯t really know how long her life would be anyway. So she¡¯d picked something that was as important to her as possible. Which was the way the sunset looked. When they¡¯d first teleported her out of the tower, out of the prison, it had been night. And the next day had been a buzz of indoor activity and naps. By the time she actually got a chance to go outside and look at the sky, it had been all oranges and pale blues; an almost perfect sunset. Colors she¡¯d never seen before, never knew could even exist like that, painted across the entire *massive* world. Her eye didn¡¯t work like human eyes. But she could still see in color. She could see the patterns and textures and frequencies of the light. Frequency-Of-Sunlight had named herself the most important thing she could, with a nascent grasp of how language worked, and accidentally started a tradition for her entire people. Life had gone strangely since then. A sentence that she¡¯d heard a lot of the humans of the Order say regularly, but it seemed to fit her too. She¡¯d grown closer to the human that would become a partner to her, explored strange places, eaten a *lot* of strange foods, and, strangest of all, drifted away from the people she¡¯d grown up with and become a far more independent serpent than she¡¯d ever expected. Not that any of them had really expected much of anything. And now, she lay in a curved arch, back pressed against her *girlfriend*, sleeping without fear and dreaming of seeing new colors. Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s dream self craned her neck to follow a dot of something on the edge of yellow but not. Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s physical self flopped over Deb¡¯s chest, eliciting a muffled ¡°Oof¡± from the woman. Next to her partner, laying on her back and now mildly crushed, Deb¡¯s eyes instantly flicked open with the practice of someone who had gone through a nursing internship. ¡°Sunny.¡± She muttered, tilting her head down to look at the camraconda stretched across her and turning in her sleep. ¡°Why.¡± Deb glanced sideways to the digital clock on the dresser; well, she had to get up in twenty minute anyway. May as well take the early alarm as a sign. The camraconda didn¡¯t answer. Just gave a low hissing snore, pinned down the color she was trying to find in her subconscious, and went limp as she drifted back to a deeper sleep. It took Deb five minutes of careful movements to free her arms and slide out of bed without waking her snoring girlfriend. Though part of that might have been the comfort of the warm weight, and less the fact that she was actually trapped. _____ Elsewhere. Rufus was having a nightmare. He was back in hell. Back in the deep places, where death was common, violence was frequent, and trust was an illusion. Where the walls never had clean lines, where the hiding places were always occupied. Where nothing grew that wasn¡¯t angry, and fertile spots to set down roots were fought over with a fury. And yet, he had companions. Others, some like him, some not. They didn¡¯t have names. He didn¡¯t have a name then, either. They weren¡¯t important. There was a boxy one that he got along with well, and another frame like himself that liked to play-tackle him. There was a larger one of them that was always alert, and another who was always trying to understand the world around them. In reality, they were long gone. Part of Rufus knew that. But for a moment, his nightmare was a dream, and he saw them again. Then it was a nightmare, like he knew it always would be. One by one, they died. Their desk shattered by something so much larger than them; his little farm crushed. They were pushed into hunting for sustenance, pushed to fight and kill. They got good at it. But it cost. There were fourteen of them, in his band. Then twelve. Then eleven. Then, two weeks of survival and safety. And then, a single accident, and in blood and pain, their numbers dropped to three. The other one, like him, his friend who enjoyed play fighting, just¡­ stopped. Sat down one day, and didn¡¯t get up. The big guy left shortly after. Or maybe Rufus had been the one to leave. He couldn¡¯t remember, but he relived it both ways anyway. Dreamed the scene a hundred times, over and over, the pain of being alone again, and it was always his fault. The nightmare skipped. He was no longer alone. He had gone to one of the tall places, in his quest for survival and isolation. And there, found others like himself. Well, not like him; they were bulkier, and there were other forms. But they were his size, and moved as a pack. They were truth seekers, looking for the answers to the world. The tower held the truth, for them. Rufus had never been a believer. But he had been their friend. The eager one, the one with the paper blanket, the tool user. Together, they had climbed the tower, to where Rufus could see the entirety of the world he¡¯d known, and more besides, in the distance. They hadn¡¯t even come close to the top. A beast of liquid darkness had been unleashed, rolled over them like a wave. None of the others had gotten away. Rufus had only lived because he¡¯d held back from the door they were sure they¡¯d find truth behind. The nightmare skipped. He was on a metal island in the middle of the grim sea. His raft had worked. He was alone out here, alone to farm and think and not remember. A coiled thing from the sea found him. So did a flock of white sheets from above. They brought him a couple survivors on the waves. Rufus was no longer alone. Eventually, they traveled together. Rufus was alone again. If the nightmare kept going, it would eventually take him as far as he could go. Until, eventually, he would find a door that could never open, using the tricks that he¡¯d learned from the truth seekers. When that door opened, Rufus would not be alone anymore. He would try to save these new ones, using the tricks from the islanders. But it wouldn¡¯t work. Or maybe it would. Rufus woke up before the nightmare went that far. Before he went from remembering the past to projecting the future. He was alone, but not alone. He had his garden, of plants both terrestrial and otherwise, and he had his own space. Not a *lot* of space, but it was pleasant, and safe. Outside, there were others. Others that would accept him, share with him, protect him. Friends. He hesitated even now to call them friends. But they were. Rufus just hoped that this time, he wouldn¡¯t find himself truly alone again. _____ Elsewhere. ¡°Planner.¡± One of Momo¡¯s dream selves got the infomorph¡¯s attention. ¡°Need your advice on something.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± Planner¡¯s dreamform was a simple rotating white and blue cube, and Momo considered rolling her eyes at it. She could do that; she was pretty deep in her own head right now. Feeling exasperated while dreaming was a trick when you weren¡¯t intentionally crammed down to a floaty subconscious level through a mix of skulljack tricks, red totems, and acid. Momo had never been into ¡®the drugs¡¯, honestly. Aside from, like, getting drunk once at a friend¡¯s house, and getting stoned repeatedly at a different, cooler and more responsible friend¡¯s house. But she had made the jump to a world where drugs gave you superpowers pretty easily. If asked, James would deny that drugs gave you superpowers. But the sort of floaty disconnect between your omnipresent anxieties and your appreciation for the beauty of the world that Momo got from a small dose of LSD was critical to shaping and understanding the lines and patterns of the totem shapes she designed. So James could shut up. Besides, he¡¯d built a mech that needed a hypnotic dissociative episode to pilot, so he was in no position to talk. ¡°Don¡¯t call me ma¡¯am.¡± She reflexively said, waking mind and dreaming self mixing together effortlessly. ¡°I need help here. What am I looking at?¡± Momo was looking at what she was pretty sure was a mental imprint of an Authority. But it was dormant, maybe even dead. She couldn¡¯t tell, her human mind wasn¡¯t built for this kind of information patterning. But that¡¯s why Planner had a summer home in her cerebellum. ¡°Nothing.¡± Planner said, humming with the scritching of pen on paper. ¡°I cannot see it. But. It is there, in its appointed place.¡± ¡°Okay, quick check. Can you not see it because it¡¯s too different from you, because it¡¯s dead or dormant, or because it¡¯s abstractly ¡®not on the schedule¡¯?¡± Momo pried, one of her secondary dreaming selves poking at Planner¡¯s angular bit. ¡°The second option, part one or two.¡± Planner dryly replied. ¡°I am not ¡®in the abstract¡¯. I am capable of seeing beyond the schedule perfectly¡­¡± ¡°Cool.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°So, why isn¡¯t it moving?¡± ¡°This is a strange place.¡± Planner rotated, making an idle comment. The first Momo had ever heard them say, actually. Planner was a stickler for precise language. ¡°I do not know why it is dormant. According to you, all the proper steps were taken, all the proper resources allocated. It should be live.¡± Momo examined the Authority¡¯s form. It almost looked like a larva, if tools had a larval form. Half insectile shape, half smooth metal and waiting potential. One of her other selves, the one that was the input from the red totem that showed her personal connections, could see a slight line forming between it and herself. But not, crucially, between it and anything else. ¡°Why?¡± She couldn¡¯t even sigh properly here. Momo was so tired, and so close to despair, and she couldn¡¯t just sigh like she wanted to. ¡°Why won¡¯t it work? Does it know Nameless is dying, and just can¡¯t link up or something?¡± ¡°It does not appear to know anything.¡± Planner gave a written hum again. ¡°This I can see clearly. Unshielded in any way. It is waiting for something, looking for a command. Yes. There, deeper in. It waits for an order. It isn¡¯t dead at all.¡± Momo glared at the dormant Authority egg. ¡°So *why* then?¡± She scowled from a half dozen dreamed faces. One of Momo looked over at Planner, still politely perched over the flat ground that stretched off to an off-color sky over the horizon. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to *do*.¡± She pulled back from the dream to adjust her arm a bit, pushing away a muscle cramp before diving back in effortlessly. ¡°What options do we have left?¡± She asked Planner, who had shifted positions while she¡¯d been gone. ¡°I think,¡± Planner said, affixing one of its flat faces on Momo, ¡°that this has very little to do with what you yourself are doing.¡± ¡°You think Nameless is doing this?¡± Momo asked, already knowing the answer. ¡°Yes.¡± Planner replied. ¡°The deeper I look at the Authority, the more I understand. It is not like me, but its complexity is elegant. It requires orders, and it feeds off of a strange form of acceptance. And this one appears to be healthy, as much as I am qualified to determine that. However¡­ when I look at the mind we are visiting, I find no drive to give those orders. Nor does your friend appear to have accepted its own place in the Order¡¯s structure. Both of those thoughts are alien to it; there is no complexity or subtly here for an infomorph to feed off of.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying Nameless isn¡¯t a person.¡± Momo accused, anger rising through the haze of her subconscious. ¡°You don¡¯t think it¡¯s real.¡± ¡°I believe the artificial mind is as real as you would find a desert real.¡± Planner rebutted. ¡°It exists, but it is unique in the limit it has on supporting life.¡± The cube folded and unfolded nervously. ¡°I could not survive here. I do not believe the Authority could either. I am rather surprised the nameless one has managed to come so close to what you call personhood with the resources it has.¡± Momo sent a ping out along the skulljack connection, almost out of idle reflex. The AI didn¡¯t even reply with a denial; simply ignored the request for a deeper link. Abruptly, the young woman shook Planner away from her active thoughts, shoved herself out of the dream, yanked the plug out of her skulljack, pivoted in her sitting position and punched her desk so hard it cracked the wood and broke two fingers. Then, she sighed. Then she got up to go find Reed and see if she could get any of those ¡®remove broken bone¡¯ purples, because holy shit her hand hurt now. _____ Here James rolled over, throwing the blankets into a haphazard pile. His nightmare receded as he woke, fleeting memories of a dozen far away dreams leaving his head like butterflies. ¡°Wha time¡¯zit?¡± He muttered to Anesh. ¡°You¡¯ve been asleep for two hours.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Go back to sleep. I¡¯ll wake you up when it¡¯s time to go buy mountaineering gear, okay?¡± James nodded. Or tried to, anyway. ¡°Kay.¡± He said, face down in a pillow. He stayed there for a good twenty seconds, Anesh watching him with a raised eyebrow, before he pulled a blanket up over his shoulders and rolled over to fold an arm around Alanna. Anesh just smiled and went back to his book. It looked like James was having a fun dream. Chapter 168 ¡°You¡¯re a genius! Like a human astronaut!¡± - Friday Nights, The Masters - _____ James¡¯ hand moved steadily over his latest project. The smooth knife he was holding dripped a steady stream of liquid, the material hardening already as it contacted a cold surface. Perfect patterns emerged as he dipped the knife again, and continued. He wasn¡¯t blind to the world around him, but his focus was narrowed to a razor¡¯s edge. Then his Velocity ran out. Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel fizzled away, and his control over the chocolate he was making shapes with faltered so bad he snapped one of his designs in half. ¡°It bothers me how bad I am at this without magic.¡± He grumbled, staring down at the metal sheet tray sitting on his kitchen counter. From their living room, Alanna perked up. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re done now?¡± She asked. ¡°Nay. I have failed in my task.¡± James shook his head solemnly. ¡°Now, it will never be good enough. Never shall this see the-¡± Anesh snorted. Loudly. ¡°Oh, you doubt my failure?¡± James challenged his boyfriend. ¡°Man, you¡¯re making homemade ice cream sandwiches, entirely from scratch, when two years ago you literally did almost cause a structure fire in that exact kitchen.¡± Anesh shook his head, though keeping his eyes focused on his own task. ¡°I feel like you¡¯re overvaluing the magic. Or undervaluing how far you¡¯ve come? Look, you¡¯re wrong somehow.¡± James shrugged, sliding the tray of mostly complete chocolate designs into the freezer. ¡°I mean, half my cooking knowledge is skill-injected. But holy shit, I figured at least my Aim stat would help me make chocolate drizzles!¡± Alanna gave him a mock glower. ¡°What I¡¯m hearing is, I don¡¯t get an ice cream sandwich.¡± ¡°It¡¯s sorbet, really.¡± James told her with a smile. ¡°And they¡¯re setting right now, so you have to wait a while. Also *I* haven¡¯t had real food for a while. So I dunno if eating one of these would kill one of us with flavor. And also heartburn.¡± James rinsed off his hands, wiping down and setting aside a few of the kitchen tools he¡¯d been using before wandering out of the kitchen to join his partners, idly picking up a couple of the metal spikes on their table and fiddling with them as he did so. ¡°Well, I¡¯m confident I could survive!¡± Alanna declared. ¡°Gimmie the cold goods!¡± ¡°How confident,¡± James asked Alanna, ¡°one to ten, are you, that you could climb a frozen cliff face?¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Unrelated. I¡¯m just gonna distract you from the ice cream for a while. It¡¯s already working, I can see you thinking about it.¡± Alanna glanced over at her partner. ¡°Bare handed, or what?¡± She paused for a second and then added, ¡°Also do I get to use my magic stuff? Like, is this counting the fact that I can cut rock with my fingernails?¡± Snapping his gaze up from the metal pitons he was balancing in his palm, James raised eyebrows at her. ¡°Really?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯d forgotten that, somehow. But also yes, all magic. *You*, not a random you-shaped person.¡± ¡°Okay. Two.¡± Alanna answered with a nod. ¡°Stop bloody fidgeting.¡± Anesh grumbled, fussing with the nylon straps running under Alanna¡¯s arms. ¡°This is hard enough already, considering I don¡¯t think I know what I¡¯m doing.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you get at least one skill rank in some kind of BDSM thing?¡± Alanna quipped with a grin. Though she did stop moving so much, and raised her arms back up for Anesh to make adjustments. Anesh didn¡¯t even get embarrassed; he was too focused on being annoyed at her climbing harness. ¡°First of all, I did not.¡± He said. ¡°Second of all, even if I did, this is completely different. The whole point is to *not* restrain motion. Unless it¡¯s falling. And then, I¡¯d prefer it happen without your bones shattering.¡± ¡°Can that even happen?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°I mean, to us. Not to normal people.¡± ¡°You, I know for a fact, have exactly one thing that prevents broken bones. And I would be *shocked* if you hadn¡¯t used it up for the year already.¡± Anesh retaliated. James cleared his throat. ¡°Not to sidetrack you too far, but you can, in fact, have forms of rope play that don¡¯t impede movement.¡± The other two shared a look, then slowly turned to stare at their boyfriend. ¡°I¡¯m just saying! Not that I¡­ know anything about that? Wait, why I am I being defensive?¡± James pursed his lips and gave a *very* defensive glare back at them. ¡°It¡¯s twenty-twenty-one! I¡¯m allowed to know about shibari! Besides, we all literally get stronger from learning things!¡± ¡°He¡¯s really defensive.¡± Alanna commented. ¡°Yeah, we should get more info out of him on this rope thing later.¡± Anesh agreed with a nod. ¡°Also!¡± Alanna pointed out, ¡°*Your* lessons are for basketball and biology! *Sarah* is the one who levels up from learning about Japanese light bondage!¡± ¡°Also I don¡¯t have a lesson yet.¡± Anesh reminded them. James waved his arms in a rejecting gesture, the metal spikes clinking in his hand. ¡°Hold on! Back up! Alanna, you sure seem to know a suspiciously specific amount about what I was talking about!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t hear you, I¡¯m being fitted for a climbing harness.¡± Alanna deadpan replied, staring straight at James. There was a pause, and then the three of them erupted into shared laughter. Their apartment living room lighting up as they shared a moment of happiness. The shaggy white dog taking up most of the couch lifted her head to peer at them curiously, before deciding she didn¡¯t need to share their weird sense of humor and laying back down to turn her attention back to the show playing on the TV in the background. It was kind of a slow day for them. There hadn¡¯t been any new huge problems for almost a whole week, and they were taking advantage of all being in the apartment at once to discuss a certain short term plan. The mountain. Hence the climbing harness, really. And a few other pieces of gear they¡¯d had delivered. Though surprisingly less than James had assumed. As it turned out, though; when you planned to climb a mountain under your own power, you couldn¡¯t be carrying an entire suite of specialized tools with you. You took the minimum weight possible, and you made it work. Though he wasn¡¯t exactly an expert mountaineer. Didn¡¯t even have a skill rank in it. But they¡¯d been doing some heavy research into what they¡¯d need to survive an environment like that. And then adapting it. Because, as it turned out, even the most dedicated and skilled men and women to surmount Everest hadn¡¯t needed to do so while dodging snow golems. Anesh called them back to reality with a *zip* of fabric as he figured out how the buckle worked and properly tightened the harness onto Alanna. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got this. Wanna try it with the full suit?¡± ¡°Ugh.¡± Alanna groaned. ¡°It¡¯s such a pain to put on!¡± The ¡®full suit¡¯ wasn¡¯t really *that* hard. But it was a wetsuit worn under their warm weather clothing worn under armor. Which, all things considered, was about as constricting than some bondage rigs, yes. ¡°Look, I need to practice this.¡± Anesh poked her on the nose. ¡°And we don¡¯t have the one sized for James yet.¡± ¡°Not my fault he¡¯s a foot shorter than me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m six one!¡± James sputtered. ¡°You¡¯re *some inches* taller than me!¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be studying biology?¡± Alanna stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend. ¡°Or anything else? At all?¡± James draped himself backward over the dining room chair he was in. ¡°Well, turns out, I¡¯m not good at learning things when I¡¯m exhausted. I¡¯m up to four fifty-ish out of five hundred for the next rank. And by the way, the progression gets *really* high when you¡¯ve got multiple lessons. But I should still know enough facts about emus to get me up to a significantly more durable body before we tackle the mountain.¡± He lolled his head forward to watch Anesh and Alanna still fiddling with the climbing harness. ¡°And I¡¯m kinda done with most of the little things I had to do. I think the most annoying little task was turning all the copied Status Quo gloves inside out to inside out to draw circles on their insides.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°To the copied gloves, or the pen?¡± James asked. ¡°The pen. The gloves are the ones that fuck up, like, wood and rock, right?¡± James nodded. ¡°The copies just hit wood, for now, but the copies also level up pretty fast, so we should have the second power in the near future.¡± ¡°So the pen?¡± Alanna prompted. ¡°There¡¯s a pen that confers tactile sensation through aligned circles drawn with it.¡± Anesh explained, stepping back and flexing his fingers to get the soreness out of them. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m done with this. See how fast you can unclip everything if you need to.¡± The answer to how fast Alanna could get herself out of the climbing rig was ¡®surprisingly fast¡¯. Though still taking about a minute to fully shake the straps off. ¡°That pen seems like the kind of thing that could be useful for¡­. you know¡­¡± She waggled her eyebrows at James. ¡°I do not know.¡± He lied, giving her a wide eyed naive look. Alanna turned and waggled her eyebrows at Anesh instead. ¡°*You* know.¡± She insisted. ¡°I know most things.¡± Anesh agreed, staying noncommittal. ¡°Sex. I am talking about sex. Sex things. Oh my god, how are you both so awkward?¡± Alanna kicked the harness up onto the arm of the couch, stretching out stiff arms and rolling her eyes at them. ¡°Okay, first of all, I¡¯m not awkward! I¡¯m¡­ considered!¡± James protested. ¡°Second of all, I actually don¡¯t think that¡¯d be very comfortable? I¡¯m actually having trouble thinking of how you could apply this in a sexy sense.¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯m sure we could invent a new fetish of feeling through people.¡± Anesh suggested brightly. ¡°We haven¡¯t invented a new fetish in a while.¡± Alanna held up a hand. ¡°Stop.¡± She ordered. ¡°Wait. Go back. When did you do that in the first place?¡± ¡°I actually don¡¯t have any specific examples,¡± Anesh said as he untangled the mess Alanna had made and carefully hung the harness up. ¡°But we¡¯ve had camracondas interacting with humans for months. I promise you, someone¡¯s come up with something.¡± ¡°...Okay, hot.¡± Alanna flopped onto the couch, nodding thankfully at the dog who scooted over to give her a little more seating room. ¡°Do you ever think about quitting the whole ¡®save the world¡¯ thing and just opening a really elaborate sex dungeon?¡± ¡°James no.¡± Anesh cut off his partner with a leveled finger before James could say anything. ¡°Also, you can¡¯t say ¡®sex dungeon¡¯ in our group anymore and not have it mean something different. Also there¡¯s something that Research will tell you is a strategic projection and everyone else will tell you is fanfic of what a sex dungeon might look like on the Order¡¯s server somewhere.¡± ¡°Also!¡± James chimed in, unwilling to be interrupted forever. ¡°Not even related to the sex dungeon! *You* were the one who encouraged us to better the world around us! This is your fault!¡± ¡°We could better the world as¡­ purveyors of¡­ magic¡­ smut?¡± Alanna lost control of her sentence. ¡°Okay nevermind. Yeah, yeah, I know.¡± She chuckled. ¡°That said, when I said ¡®fix the world¡¯, I feel like I was talking about getting elected to a local school board and making student lunches free or something. You sorta aimed higher.¡± ¡°I do worry, sometimes,¡± James started to say, ¡°that by aiming at¡­ hang on.¡± He gave a small frown as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. Not recognizing the number, he shrugged and swiped to answer the call, turning off the ringtone version of the Pacific Rim title song as he did so. ¡°Y¡¯ello.¡± He projected down the line. A man¡¯s voice answered. With a cadence and tone that instantly made James feel like he was talking to someone a fair bit older. ¡°Ah, Mr. Lyle, I presume?¡± ¡°...If I say no, can I dodge whatever you¡¯re selling?¡± James asked, getting a snort of laughter out of an eavesdropping Anesh. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. You are remarkably easy to get ahold of, compared to what I was expecting. Your actual number is on file with your service record.¡± The man didn¡¯t laugh at the comment, which was something that put James on edge rather rapidly. He put a lot of value on someone¡¯s propensity to recognize and react to humor, and the lack of even a small chuckle was a warning sign. ¡°I¡¯m executive director Brians, I¡¯d like a word with you.¡± ¡°Director of what?¡± James asked, standing up and starting to pace back and forth behind the couch as he talked. Slouched over the chair didn¡¯t seem like a good position for this conversation. ¡°The Critical Incident Response Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± James paused and glanced over at his partners. ¡°The FBI wants to talk to me?¡± He raised his eyebrows. ¡°Soooo¡­¡± ¡°I mean, unless they can kill you over the phone, there¡¯s probably no harm in talking.¡± Alanna shrugged, while Anesh just shook his head wildly. ¡°Oh, right¡­. I forget sometimes!¡± James put the phone back up to his ear. ¡°Quick question. Can you kill me over the phone?¡± ¡°...No.¡± ¡°Okay. I¡¯ve got a minute to talk. What¡¯s up?¡± The older fed cleared his throat. ¡°You recently broke contact with one of my employees, and by association our agency. It seems prudent to attempt a peaceful resolution to this scenario, if even half of what Ms. DeKay says is accurate.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that.¡± James sighed. ¡°So, you do get that she was trying to steal from us, right?¡± ¡°Confiscation of dangerous and unregulated weaponry is well within the authority of¡­¡± ¡°Please.¡± James cut him off. ¡°If you actually wanted to confiscate our ¡®dangerous technology¡¯, you could have just sent a few hundred people to our headquarters.¡± He grinned wolfishly, even though he knew the other man couldn¡¯t see him. ¡°Or did you try that?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Brians admitted easily. ¡°Which is when DeKay¡¯s concerns began to make more sense.¡± ¡°Yeah, well. Wizard.¡± He said, as if that explained anything. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s skip to the end of this. What do you *want*?¡± The man cleared his throat. ¡°To know if you¡¯re going to be a threat, or a resource.¡± There was the sound of shifting paper from the other end of the phone. ¡°It¡¯s really that simple. And, more directly, to ask you: are you going to stop?¡± ¡°Stop what, exactly?¡± James put a hard tone on his words. ¡°Stop interfering in police affairs. Stop drawing attention. Stop your little revolution now, before it becomes violent.¡± The man spoke, and James heard something in the background. Suddenly he realized he was probably on speakerphone. He sighed, and looked over at his partners, who were watching him with a worried look. ¡°I have a fundamental problem with how you phrased that.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re probably not stupid, so you¡¯re looking at the history of the world, and seeing every revolution being one of violence. Break the old system to build the new, right?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for a reply, just kept talking. ¡°Well, we¡¯re not super interested in that. Because it¡¯s obviously never worked. The people who hate the new systems will never see them as legitimate, because they took power with violence. And, like, a lot of other reasons involving *not killing people* too, which I thought was obvious, but I just realized what I¡¯m talking to, so I feel I should mention in passing.¡± James¡¯ voice held an amount of vitriol. There was a sigh from the other end of the line, and James stopped his pacing to lean forward and prop his elbows on the back of the couch as the director spoke again. ¡°Your subversion of police authority is already an implicit threat. Both to the safety of the public, and the structure of the legal code. Specifically, the technology you¡¯ve demonstrated to, and I cannot believe I need to say this, teleport.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck off.¡± James couldn¡¯t help bark a laugh. ¡°The existence of a group that has a state sanctioned authority to¡­ you know what? Nevermind. We don¡¯t need to cover that right now, and you don¡¯t care.¡± He gave his own sigh. ¡°No. We won¡¯t be ¡®stopping¡¯. Though I appreciate you asking politely, so thanks I guess.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°We can offer you a number of incentives to disband your organization now.¡± Brians suggested. ¡°Pass.¡± James said. ¡°Also, seriously, DeKay¡¯s take on us as some kind of destabilizing factor is weird. I didn¡¯t really get to talk to her much about it, what with her trying to shoot me and everything, but you do get that most of our objectives involve radical improvements to the daily lives of people, right?¡± ¡°And the removal of the federal government.¡± ¡°And the *obsolescence* of the federal government.¡± James corrected. ¡°You know, most of your activities are actually illegal. You could be arrested quite easily.¡± James snorted, but did it away from the phone. No need to show *that* much contempt. ¡°I would argue that you have bigger problems.¡± He said. What he did *not* say was that he doubted it would be that easy for them. ¡°You also glossed over that part where one of your agents tried to shoot me.¡± Executive director Brians continued to gloss over that fact. ¡°My job, and the job of my staff, is, on a bad day, to respond to attacks on the American people.¡± He said. ¡°On a good day, it is to prevent damage from becoming a pattern. What I would like to do, now, is take an opportunity with you, to keep it from even getting that far.¡± ¡°You really don¡¯t believe me when I say we won¡¯t kill people, huh?¡± James grimaced. ¡°No.¡± The man replied. ¡°Whether by malevolence, accident, negligence, or simply introducing disruptive technologies. You are going to cause deaths.¡± The words were delivered with absolute conviction. James was kind of sick of it. ¡°You know what?¡± His voice was strained, as he tried to refrain from simply throwing his phone through the sliding glass door and off his patio. ¡°That¡¯s pretty goddamn rich, coming from someone¡­ no. No.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Okay. Look. I can appreciate what you¡¯re trying to do here. Really. But you cannot bribe or threaten me, and the fact that you¡¯re trying is annoying. That you seem to have missed that we¡¯re making the world safer around our home, which is *the country you claim to protect*, is annoying.¡± ¡°I have not missed that fact. You¡¯re not seeing the bigger picture.¡± ¡°Ah, the endless rallying cry of the status quo.¡± James let out a low grunt of exasperation. ¡°Again. Kinda tired of hearing that one.¡± Anesh and Alanna tensed up as he said that. Brians gave a small laugh. The first James had heard from him. ¡°And you don¡¯t know how tiring it gets to hear people adhere to destructive ideologies.¡± ¡°I¡¯m getting there, though!¡± James told him. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t think either of us are going to change our minds in this one conversation, right?¡± His conversation partner made a hum of assent. ¡°So,¡± James continued, ¡°I¡¯m gonna just go now, because I actually do have a life outside of getting in ideological fights with authority figures.¡± ¡°Of course. Understandable.¡± Brians sounded resigned, but not surprised. ¡°That said,¡± James added, ¡°just in case it was ambiguous; we do not have to be enemies. Please don¡¯t try to dramatically arrest me or my people, and in return, I promise that we¡¯ll keep doing what we¡¯re doing. Which is, you know, acting as a magical ambulance service and trying to kill cancer.¡± There was a noise from somewhere in the other room, and James knew for *sure* now that he was on speakerphone. ¡°If only those were the only things you were doing.¡± The director sighed. ¡°I won¡¯t promise you anything. But this conversation was more productive than I had worried.¡± James smiled. ¡°Well. It¡¯s been nice talking to you too. I¡¯m going to go back to researching transit networks now, so that I can build a magical utopian city. And when it¡¯s done, you¡¯re welcome to come live in it. Hell, this isn¡¯t even a bribe; you can come live in it even if you try to arrest me or something. I¡¯m even building the thing in the US, so if you need to sell if to your bosses or something, you can talk about how it generates jobs or something.¡± A long pause followed, and he half figured he¡¯d already been hung up on. Just as he was about to lower the phone from his ear and hit the red end call button, the older man laughed. Actually laughed. ¡°Well.¡± He said, voice warmer than when the call had started. ¡°Isn¡¯t that interesting?¡± And then, a moment later, ¡°We¡¯ll be in touch.¡± ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t bot¡­ he hung up. Wow. Rude.¡± James shook his head at his phone, and then looked up to see Anesh and Alanna staring at him with concerned looks. ¡°Soooooo. The FBI called, I guess?¡± ¡°Which department?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Incident response division, or something?¡± James had forgotten the full name already. ¡°At risk of sounding dumb, I had a hard time focusing there. Holy shit, why is my heart beating so fast? I feel like I just got in a fight.¡± Anesh gave a nervous bark of laughter. ¡°I mean, you did just get called out by the government. Kinda nerve wracking, huh?¡± ¡°What did they want?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Are we in trou¡­ no, of course we¡¯re generally ¡®in trouble¡¯. Are we in *actual* danger?¡± ¡°I think¡­¡± James rolled his phone idly in his hand, fidgeting with the electronic. ¡°I think he just wanted to evaluate me? Nothing he said was actually that¡­ uh.. how to phrase this? He didn¡¯t seem like he was seriously invested in the conversation? Like it was just a trial run or something. Or like he was just taking random guesses and gathering information. Fuck, fuck! Now that I say that, it is *instantly obvious* that I gave away more than I probably should have!¡± ¡°Okay, take a deep breath.¡± Anesh set a hand on James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°You didn¡¯t say anything that isn¡¯t basically public information. The two of us *were* in the room, remember?¡± In response to that, Auberdeen raised her head off of her front paws and shot a low and rumbling woof toward Anesh. ¡°The three of us, yes, thank you. That¡¯s¡­ still getting used to that.¡± Their lives were full of so much magic, it was hard to keep track of the small things sometimes. Like whether or not their apartment dog spoke English or not. James smiled wearily. ¡°I¡¯ve given up getting used to things. I just assume everything is fine, even if it¡¯s not normal.¡± ¡°So, getting back on track,¡± Alanna tilted her head back over the couch to look at the two of them, ¡°are we getting arrested or not?¡± The question was harder to answer than James had expected. He actually tried to think as hard as he could about it, letting his eyes fall out of focus as he stared at the floor and rubbed at his forehead. ¡°Not? I think?¡± He concluded. ¡°Okay, so, things to take away from this. They can¡¯t find the Lair, unless he was lying. At least someone at the FBI finds our long term plans interesting, unless he was lying. Also, I need a new phone. I am zero percent confident that they can¡¯t track me, if they know my phone number.¡± ¡°Good call, I¡¯ll get on that.¡± Anesh said with a nod. ¡°No!¡± James drew the word out with a smile in his voice. ¡°No you will not! You¡¯re gonna get me a phone I won¡¯t like!¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to get you a perfectly functional device that¡­¡± ¡°Just get me an iPhone! I know they¡¯re not as good, I don¡¯t care! I use it for phone calls, and the chat server, and sudoku. I do not need something with flexibility, I need something tiny that won¡¯t break!¡± Alanna stopped flicking her attention back and forth between her two boyfriends. ¡°Sorry, hang on, I¡¯ve never heard this particular dumb opinion from James before. You think iPhones are¡­ *less* likely to break?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I mean, I was going to say mine hadn¡¯t broken, but I had to get a new one after it¡­ broke.¡± James faltered in his defense. ¡°But it got shot! That doesn¡¯t count! Also I¡¯ve seen Anesh¡¯s phone, its the size of a tablet. I may as well just get a whole laptop.¡± ¡°You do get that modern iPhones are also kinda thick, right? Like, thick with two or three c¡¯s at least.¡± Alanna challenged him. James groaned. ¡°This isn¡¯t the important part of this conversation!¡± He tried to escape the trap he¡¯d set for himself. ¡°Look, aside from trying to get the personal electronic I desire, what do we do, right now, about this?¡± The three of them stopped making jokes, just for a minute, and tried to figure that out. But in the end, there wasn¡¯t a whole lot that could be done if the government decided to try to arrest them on the street out of nowhere. But there were a few precautions. James updated Order¡¯s chat server to keep everyone informed that the FBI had taken more of a notice in them than sending a single overworked agent. The glasses that showed affiliation were put into the standard kit of Response teams, just in case; they didn¡¯t have too many copies of those, but being able to have even a little warning was important. ¡°We could just build a memeplex around them, right?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°I¡¯ve read the ops manual. We can do that.¡± ¡°First off, we absolutely cannot just do that.¡± Anesh corrected her. ¡°Second of all¡­ when you say ¡®build a memeplex around them¡¯, you mean the FBI as them?¡± ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t think it works that way. Though, that said, I don¡¯t think we fully understand what¡¯s going on there to begin with.¡± James said. Briefly, he had a flash of understanding that they had, at one point, gotten information from a source he couldn¡¯t remember anymore. The thought hurt briefly, but he set it aside when he remembered the cost of pressing it. ¡°Also, the FBI aren¡¯t, like¡­ neutral isn¡¯t the word, exactly. But they *do stuff*, beyond just being a problem for us. They actually do solve some crimes, I assume. We can¡¯t just throw up a memetic wall around them.¡± Especially not one of the ones like the memeplexes, the large scale unfeeling mental machinery that was designed to isolate and pressure delvers into making bad choices. After that, no one had any other ideas, terrible or otherwise. Ultimately, though, the entire conversation left James feeling powerless. ¡°The government¡± was such a massive abstract. It could be everywhere, it could include anyone. And now, a chunk of it was watching him. He, personally, felt like he had lost a form of security that he had mostly been taking for granted. On a tactical level, the Order had always been going to attract attention. Already, there were more and more people who shared rumors about them, across the several locales that they operated in. Preparing to fight a public relations campaign had been something they¡¯d already started working on. Sooner or later, they were gonna be answering questions to the news media and showing up on Youtube. But this wasn¡¯t a high ranking federal employee calling The Order Of Endless Rooms. This was one man with a lot of power to cause problems, calling *James*. Just as the abstraction of the government being huge and all encompassing made them seem invincible, so too did being noticed on an individual, deeply personal level, make James feel vulnerable. Which, he suddenly realized, might actually be the point. Thirty minutes later, while James was sitting on the couch wishing Auberdeen could actually *speak* English too, so she could explain the plot to this show, his phone rang again. He looked suspiciously at the buzzing electronic device sitting on their living room table. It was on one of the few clear spaces among the piles of climbing and camping gear they¡¯d stacked up. *Why* they¡¯d stacked it up in his apartment, on the table they used for D&D and social dinners, and not in the Lair, on a table they used exclusively for stacking gear on, was beyond him. The phone buzzed again. James glared at it. ¡°If this is a different government agency, I¡¯m throwing my phone in the pond.¡± He casually told Auberdeen. The dog, fluent in English now, but still not understanding humor that well, gave him a small glance that looked somehow vaguely pitying. He sighed. Lack of appreciation for sarcasm, it seemed, transcended species boundaries. James picked up his phone, and saw an actual name he recognized. ¡°Hey Alex, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Hey, uh, sorry to bother you on your day off.¡± The young woman sounded apologetic. ¡°Just wanted to ask something before I say anything stupid to the interns. Is it okay to let people know that everyone¡¯s orbs drop when they die?¡± ¡°First off, not my day off. Second off...Ooooooof.¡± James drew out the word as he stood and stepped over to the patio door. Fresh air sounded nice for this conversation. He caught Alanna¡¯s eye as she poked her head out into the living room. ¡°It¡¯s Alex.¡± He said to her, covering the phone with one hand as he slid the door open and stepped outside. ¡°Yeah, oof.¡± He could practically hear Alex nodding. ¡°Like, I don¡¯t think anyone cares? Or, you know, *you¡¯re* not gonna kill me and eat my orbs, right?¡± ¡°I love our conversations.¡± ¡°But it just seems kind of awkward to tell everyone? Like, I don¡¯t wanna make people think that¡¯s an option, you know? Anyway, Sarah said to call you, since she was busy.¡± James paused. ¡°Busy with what?¡± He asked. ¡°Wait, no, that¡¯s not important, and knowing Sarah it could be one of thirty different reasonable things. Okay. Looting the dead. Hm.¡± He thought for a second, until a certain tangential thought struck him. ¡°Hey, question. What do you want done with your loot drop?¡± ¡°...Are you planning to kill and eat¡­¡± James rolled his eyes and cut her off. ¡°No.¡± Alex made an uncomfortable noise. ¡°I dunno. I don¡¯t really think about that a lot, for¡­ reasons¡­¡± She didn¡¯t elaborate, and James didn¡¯t need her to. He was familiar with existential dread. ¡°Anyway, I don¡¯t really know? Like, if you can bring me back to life with it, then fuckin¡¯ do it I guess. Otherwise, just give it to someone.¡± ¡°You¡¯d be okay with that?¡± James was a little surprised. ¡°Sure, why not? I¡¯m not using it.¡± It made sense, and standing there on his back porch, feeling his feet get colder and colder on the stone patio, James realized he more or less agreed. ¡°Yeah, I guess¡­ yeah. Ugh. Don¡¯t like thinking about that. But I guess I¡¯d rather it not sit on a shelf.¡± ¡°I did wonder why we had the shelf.¡± Alex half-asked. ¡°No one told us what they wanted done with their¡­ remains.¡± James struggled on the last word. ¡°We should really¡­ shit, this is actually important. I can¡¯t believe we haven¡¯t one this before.¡± He sighed. ¡°Okay, so, *yes*, tell them what happens. And then, get informed consent from everyone on what to do with their final loot drop. Because that *does* matter.¡± ¡°Kay. Thaks!¡± Alex said, and hung up before James could keep rambling. She¡¯d gotten her answer, and knew that this conversation could continue forever if she didn¡¯t cut it off and get back to what she was doing. James looked down at the phone in his hand, now showing a black screen. ¡°Thaks?¡± He muttered. ¡°Am I out of touch with The Youth? Is this a meme thing I don¡¯t get again?¡± He shook his head, trying to push off the feeling of being old, and stepped back inside. He let the warm air encircle him as he padded down the hallway to the bedroom where Anesh and Alanna were relaxing. He politely didn¡¯t just kick the door open - just in case - but upon poking his head in, mostly just saw Anesh sitting against the wall reading something, and Alanna pulling thick socks on. ¡°Oh dang, I missed the thing.¡± He said as he stepped into the room. Anesh made a confused noise, while Alanna just snorted derisively and stuck her tongue out at him. ¡°Oh.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Oh! You mean sex. Of course. Right! I mean, no. But we could¡­?¡± He set his book to the side and moved to pull off his shirt. ¡°No! We¡¯re going out for pizza!¡± Alanna chastised him. ¡°I could just make¡­. hm.¡± James paused. ¡°Actually, yeah, going out for pizza sounds pretty good. Or¡­ wait, did I just invite myself along? Sorry, I wasn¡¯t thinking there.¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine.¡± Alanna assured him. ¡°Was gonna ask you once you were off the phone. What¡¯d Alex want?¡± ¡°Oh, right! Question for you.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°You know how if we die, all our skill orbs and stuff actually drop, like we¡¯re dungeon creatures?¡± His girlfriend froze briefly as she finished tugging on her other sock, before glancing up at James with a worried look. But before Alanna could say anything, Anesh cut in with a casual voice. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯d like mine to go to someone who¡¯ll appreciate the math skills. Also, probably someone who doesn¡¯t already have a bunch of delves; keep that generational wealth problem from building up. Hell, don¡¯t even give it to a delver.¡± ¡°What about your whole clone thing?¡± James asked. Anesh spread his hands out. ¡°Clones still age. They¡¯re copies of me as I am, not me as I was.¡± ¡°So. You¡¯ve thought about this?¡± Alanna asked with a curious look. ¡°Sure.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Unlike James, I don¡¯t actually think I¡¯ll live forever. But I still care about, you know, making a difference for someone who comes next.¡± He pulled his shirt back down and smoothed it out, casually acting like nothing had been out of place. ¡°Why, what do you want done with yours?¡± He asked Alanna. She frowned, a bit taken off guard, until she had a small epiphany. ¡°Hey, Pendragon was made with a yellow orb, right?¡± Alanna gnawed idly at her lip. ¡°A few of them, yeah.¡± James nodded. ¡°Dave had no idea what he was doing, and somehow had fallen ass backward into the lap of success.¡± ¡°Cool. Do that.¡± Alanna said, brushing past James as she left their shared bedroom. James and Anesh shared a look, before Anesh rolled off the bed and stood up, following James out into the hallways as he himself followed Alanna. ¡°Do *what*?¡± James called after his retreating partner. ¡°Make you into a dragon?¡± ¡°Sure! That sounds fucking rad!¡± Alanna called back as she tried to negotiate around the bulky dog still relaxing on their couch between her and where she¡¯d thrown her coat. ¡°Maybe do some kind of weird ceremony for it? James, you like worldbuilding weird ceremonies. Do something ambiguously spiritual like imbuing a creation with life under the light of the full moon in a lake, or something. I dunno. But yes, make me a dragon. Or dragon adjacent.¡± There was a certain part of James that found planning for death to be terrifying. But there was a much larger part of him that latched onto the idea of a moonlit creation ceremony, and ran with it. ¡°Oh, hell yeah!¡± He found himself saying with a grin. ¡°We could mix it with a sort of funeral, too. Have everyone say kind words about you while we pay ritual homage to the different aspects of your final loot drop. Do you think whatever comes out will keep the empathy power from the Lesson?¡± ¡°Yessss, I like that!¡± Alanna clapped her hands. ¡°You have to say nice things though! No one is allowed to tell the next me that I was kind of an asshole as a teenager!¡± ¡°Kind of?¡± James smirked. ¡°Teenager?!¡± Anesh added his own smirk. ¡°You are both fired from my funeral service.¡± Alanna decided stoically. ¡°Gonna get Sarah to do it now.¡± She promised as she led the way out of the apartment, stopping to pet the panting pit bull waiting on their doorstep for some affection. Anesh patted James on the shoulder as he fetched his own coat and shoes. ¡°It was a noble attempt.¡± He said. ¡°Maybe you can manage her second funeral, when her dragon reincarnation inevitably gets taken down with antiaircraft fire.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kinda grim! Also it¡¯s fine, now I have slightly less work to do!¡± James grinned as he waited for his boyfriend by the door. ¡°Anyway. Let¡¯s go eat. Hey, side note, who should we build the mountaineering team out of? Do we want it to be more than just us three?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that.¡± Anesh snapped his fingers. ¡°We should bring Chevoy.¡± ¡°...The new engineer? Why?¡± ¡°It¡¯s been months, and she¡¯s *comically* well suited to being a delver.¡± Anesh answered. ¡°Why, who were you thinking of? Daniel and Pathfinder? Misadventures sound like a *great* idea for a frozen lethal pinnacle climb.¡± James didn¡¯t meet Anesh¡¯s eyes, trying and failing to keep his complexion from reddening slightly. ¡°....No!¡± He protested. ¡°I was thinking of...uh...Naaaaate?¡± ¡°You were not.¡± ¡°I was not.¡± James admitted. ¡°You ready to go? Alanna¡¯s probably waiting for us, and I¡¯m *sure* she has opinions.¡± Anesh laughed. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s get lunch.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, but we¡¯re driving. I need to top off my velocity so I can finish the damn ice cream.¡± Hours later, sitting in his office at the Lair, James realized that somehow they¡¯d gotten sidetracked again while having lunch together. His partners hadn¡¯t asked. Neither had Karen when James had given her Recovery people a new project to collect this last will from everyone. What *did* he want done with his remains, if the worst happened? Sure, with the purple orbs, and probably a few other dungeon nonsense effects, he could probably live a *very* long time. Maybe indefinitely. But James wasn¡¯t just sitting still in a safe room. He was constantly throwing himself against monsters and environments that threatened to kill him. He had to, at least in the abstract, face the fact that there could be a time when he wasn¡¯t around anymore. But he¡¯d leave something more than a battered corpse behind, wouldn¡¯t he? Give it to someone else sounded nice, in a vaguely adventurous kind of way. Maybe he could arrange for his collective power to end up with someone like him; some kid who wanted to do good and felt crushed by the world. But¡­ even in death, it would kill him to choose poorly, to hand someone the tools they needed to do some real damage. Alanna¡¯s idea of being remade as a new creature had a certain appeal to it, too. James knew it probably wouldn¡¯t be ¡®him¡¯, but still. Also, ¡®knew¡¯ was sort of fuzzy too; they had never really tested if that was the case, but without knowing the wishes of the people who had fallen, it was hard to justify testing in this case. He didn¡¯t think he wanted to be left on a shelf. Unless Momo or someone else could figure out how to make a totem out of the orb. Oh! Wouldn¡¯t that be something? He could be a literal part of the arcology he had a grand vision for. James blinked, and did a slightly double take of that thought. ¡°Is that¡­ am I asking to be reborn as a dungeon?¡± He muttered to himself. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ probably fine. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s fine.¡± He was not sure that was fine. But he still sent an email to to Recovery updating his wishes to that anyway. Chapter 169 ¡°The problem with the rat race is, even if you win, you¡¯re still a rat.¡± -Lily Tomlin- _____ ¡°I got the most interesting call from the FBI last night.¡± Sarah informed James as he stepped out of the telepad arrival zone. Telepads could, technically, go anywhere. But they often took things like ¡®my office¡¯ or ¡®behind my desk¡¯ to be suggestions, not actual directions. So the arrival areas were set up to correct the occasional *problem*. Marked off areas on the floor that had patterns you could sketch out, and the telepads would never miss. Or at least, hadn¡¯t missed yet. They still wrote down ¡®the one at this address¡¯. The Order wasn¡¯t stupid, and at least one person was aware of the fact that someone could intercept a teleport if they knew how it worked just by marking their own floor. Redundancies were important. Two factor teleportation. ¡°The FBI, you say?¡± James pretended to act surprised. ¡°What did they want?¡± ¡°Mostly to tell me that I was going to throw my life away and end up in jail for decades if I didn¡¯t roll over and play nice.¡± Sarah¡¯s face was still smiling, but there was a vicious note in her voice James didn¡¯t tend to hear often. ¡°I said yes, obviously.¡± ¡°Oh? Well. Curse you and your sudden and unexpected betrayal, I guess.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the right line! Say the line!¡± Sarah admonished him. James kept walking toward the elevator, letting Sarah fall in behind him as he made his way out of the basement and up to their California office. ¡°I¡¯m not *that* much of a blatant plagiarist.¡± He snorted. ¡°Also, how many people got calls?¡± James let his voice turn serious. ¡°Everyone you¡¯d expect. Not Nate, though. Haven¡¯t heard from JP or Dave.¡± Sarah filled him in. ¡°No one who got hit hard by the Office¡¯s memeplex, but everyone we¡¯ve hired since then. No one¡¯s quit yet, and as far as I know, everyone reported it. If anyone didn¡¯t, I guess we wouldn¡¯t know, but, well. We¡¯re not spying on everyone. Duh.¡± ¡°Duh, indeed.¡± James nodded as the doors opened and he stepped off the elevator. ¡°No one quit?¡± ¡°Well, you know! Most of the people in Response are there because fuck the police, right? A threatening call from the Big Police isn¡¯t gonna convince them otherwise.¡± Sarah threw her arms into the air. ¡°I don¡¯t get why they think the answer to ¡®there is too much abuse of authority¡¯ is *more* abuse of authority! Just stop doing that, and it¡¯s fine!¡± James smiled sadly as he high fived the potted plant, and stopped at the vending machine to grab something random. ¡°It¡¯s a little more complicated than that.¡± He informed her, swirling the can his drink came in around as he checked it for an orb. ¡°You¡¯re assuming the goal is to eliminate the abuse. Which¡­ ugh. But whatever, back on track. We¡¯re still kicking?¡± ¡°Boots and all.¡± His friend nodded at him. ¡°Though against what is kind of up in the air, I guess. It¡¯s not like anyone¡¯s been secret-arrested. Yet!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t jinx us.¡± James grimaced, opening the door to his office. Nate was waiting inside. ¡°You know, if you don¡¯t lock your door, anyone could just come in here and bug everything.¡± He told James bluntly, as he stood suspiciously behind James¡¯ desk rearranging his bookshelf. James just gave him a flat look. ¡°Stop searching my office.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t even keep the good porn here.¡± ¡°Please, *please* do not keep your porn here.¡± Nate didn¡¯t miss a beat as he circled around the desk. ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem.¡± ¡°Yeah, the FBI is¡­¡± ¡°No, not¡­ okay, we¡¯ve got two problems. Though I¡¯m not sure the Bureau is the problem we think it is.¡± James slid into his chair and let it spin him around once before he kicked to a stop behind his desk, cracking open the can of Fizz Juice he¡¯d gotten from the vending machine. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡± ¡°Threats, harassment, probably bribery, this is the kind of stuff they do when they can¡¯t just arrest an entire problem.¡± Nate said. ¡°It¡¯s why it was the go-to for civil rights stuff. Too many people to really bring the hammer down on. But it¡¯s *not* a contemporary tactic, at least that I know of. So to use it here, it means they don¡¯t think they could just break the organization.¡± ¡°Well yeah, they literally cannot find us.¡± James said. ¡°Unless they¡¯re playing the *long* game. But seriously. I don¡¯t think they¡¯re an immediate threat, and I have no intention of upgrading them to that until something actually *happens* beyond just vaguely coercive phone calls to people who are already inclined to not listen.¡± Nate ran a hand across his smooth head. ¡°Alright. Well, I¡¯ll go with your say for now. But we¡¯ve got options if you want to hit em back. Just so you know.¡± ¡°...Options like¡­?¡± James¡¯ voice was more suspicious than curious. ¡°Targeted blackmail, financial pressure, assassination if it gets bad enough.¡± Nate shrugged. ¡°The usual.¡± ¡°No.¡± James deadpanned. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Sarah added in. ¡°No murdering people!¡± Nate gave her a contemptuous look. ¡°Doesn¡¯t make a difference to you that it would be more convenient for them if we were all dead?¡± ¡°No! Murder bad! Why¡¯s it so hard for boys to learn that?!¡± Sarah slapped James¡¯ desk. ¡°James learned it! James hates learning things!¡± ¡°First off, ow.¡± James frowned. ¡°Actually, that kinda does hurt. I like learning things! Also my relationship with my gender is ambivalent at best. Especially considering I¡¯ve been Alanna at least a dozen times.¡± Sarah flushed red. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I was trying to use you to make a point. Sorry, sorry. That was really mean, wasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yeah, you seem angry. About the murder.¡± James pivoted back to Nate. ¡°The murder you are absolutely not to do, please. I¡¯m *iffy* on you and JP hijacking traffic cams or snooping on emails that are from people already flagged as threats. But I¡¯m absolutely in the no camp for teleport-murders.¡± ¡°What if we only targeted¡­¡± ¡°Nate, come on.¡± James sighed. ¡°You won¡¯t let me steal nukes, and I won¡¯t let you pick off government employees. It¡¯s a fair trade.¡± ¡°No, it isn¡¯t. But I¡¯ll drop it for now. The plans don¡¯t go away just because you don¡¯t need them. Also, you were the one who was talking the other day about where the line is for self defense, when it comes to political power and influence.¡± James nodded. ¡°That¡¯s true. And I¡¯m okay with us pushing back if they decide to lean into the harassment thing. But going from threatening phone calls to murder is an escalation I don¡¯t want to deal with. Even if only for the reason that they have predator drones.¡± Nate gave an easy shrug and tilt of his head. ¡°Your funeral. Anyway. I¡¯ve got lunch to make. You two have fun figuring out if I bugged your office to prove a point.¡± ¡°What was the other problem!?¡± James called after him as the tattooed chef headed out of his office. Nate paused to half step back around the door. ¡°Oh, I was gonna complain about Sysco delivery drivers. But your stuff is more important, and I don¡¯t want to get into it today. Have fun with that.¡± He turned and vanished. Sarah caught James¡¯ eye with raised eyebrows. ¡°Do you think he actually bugged your office?¡± ¡°Nah. He¡¯d have to be super lazy to have only done it now. Also I don¡¯t care.¡± James leaned back as far as his chair would let him without pitching backward. ¡°Hey, can you help me with something?¡± He asked her. ¡°Sure, that¡¯s what friends do.¡± Sarah gave him a shining smile, the room lighting up as she broadcast happiness. James grinned back and shook his head in marvel at how she could do that. ¡°Okay. We¡¯re going to the mountain next week, all things working out. I just want to figure out who, actually, is going.¡± ¡°How many people do you want?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Because that¡¯s kind of relevant.¡± ¡°From Momo¡¯s experience, I don¡¯t think we want more than six or seven.¡± James said. ¡°The place is harsh, has low visibility, and it would be too easy to get separated. I want a group small enough that we can¡¯t accidentally lose track of half the party.¡± ¡°Mh. But wouldn¡¯t you just then have two parties?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Why not take literally everyone¡­ no nevermind.¡± ¡°Yeah, because we are absolutely not an organization entirely composed of superheroes.¡± James reminded her. ¡°I know that¡¯s actually easy to fix, but most of our magic stuff works best inside a civilization, and not on Mt. Doom.¡± ¡°Is that what they named it?¡± She asked with a smirk. ¡°I actually don¡¯t know. I¡¯m meeting Morgan, Color-Of-Dawn, and Liz later to ask. Apparently Chevoy didn¡¯t want to take part in naming anything. She just muttered something about an engineer¡¯s curse and then wandered off?¡± ¡°That¡¯s probably not a real thing.¡± ¡°Yeah, I think she made it up.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Anyway. Do you wanna come?¡± ¡°Oh heck no!¡± Sarah answered instantly. ¡°Sounds awful! Like, I don¡¯t want you to die, and I trust you and stuff, but it sounds cold and miserable, and I¡¯m just gonna farm an extra batch of purples to copy while you¡¯re gone.¡± ¡°What! We had a whole bonding moment over this! We were gonna...do the whole thing together!¡± James threw his head back. ¡°I¡¯ll be all alone now! Surrounded by strangers!¡± ¡°Strangers and the two people you love most in the world?¡± Sarah quipped. James paused in his answer. ¡°You know, it¡¯s weird, I don¡¯t know how to answer that? But also yes, that. Sort of. Ah. It¡¯s weird, my brain instantly rebels against saying ¡®most¡¯ to anything. Playing favorites. Whatever.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay to be uncertain of things, ya know.¡± Sarah told him. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone is gonna take it personally.¡± ¡°Bah!¡± James barked. ¡°I live in a constant state of expecting people to take things personally! It¡¯s honestly not that healthy, probably. Anyway. We can unpack my rapidly degrading mental state later; roster! Who do we tap for our first mountain climbing trip?¡± Sarah stared at her friend with a comical frown and squinted eyes, before eventually relenting as James just gave her a puppy dog look of innocence in return. She wasn¡¯t *done* arguing with him about his own self worth, but they could circle back to that. ¡°Fiiiiiine.¡± She gasped out. ¡°Okay. Here¡¯s a thought. Take some new people?¡± ¡°Um¡­ new, how?¡± James asked. ¡°Because I was going to say we should make sure people have dungeon survivability powers in some way. You know, not get anyone killed. Also I dunno if I trust the new people with my life?¡± He paused. ¡°Wait, hang on. That¡¯s weird. They came to work with us because they *are* the kind of people worth trusting. Dammit! My brain is getting stuck in the world¡¯s way of thinking, and I¡¯m forgetting what we¡¯re supposed to be.¡± He looked around the room. ¡°I have an *office*. When did this happen?¡± ¡°You needed somewhere people could make appointments to talk to you. Even though you are *never here*.¡± Sarah instantly dropped back into the mock glower for a second. ¡°But yeah! We¡¯ve got some cool new people. Take, like, Bill or Mark! Take *Marjorie*! She¡¯d probably¡­ no, no. Nevermind.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°El¡¯s mom?¡± He asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t she¡­ okay, I know magic makes the line fuzzy, but isn¡¯t she a bit old?¡± ¡°She¡¯s only fifty five, but she has some other reasons to probably not go, that aren¡¯t my place to talk about.¡± Sarah shrugged. ¡°Take El, maybe? Or, or! Ask the whole Order, then go from there!¡± ¡°Like, put up a public notice that we¡¯ve got a new dungeon and need delvers¡­ wait, did we become an adventurer¡¯s guild? God dammit, this is exactly why I called us an order!¡± Sarah giggled. ¡°Look, it¡¯s not like you¡¯re assigning quests to kill ten rats in the sewers¡­ are you? Wait, I said it, and then I thought it. Is that a thing we¡¯re doing?¡± James rolled his eyes at her. ¡°No, that is not a thing we¡¯re doing.¡± He spun his chair back and forth as he thought. ¡°Anyway. New people would probably be good. I just worry that they won¡¯t have the buildup of mostly purples, right?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got armory packages ready to go.¡± Sarah said. ¡°We can rapidly make someone harder to kill. Which is good, given¡­ all of this.¡± Her voice faltered a bit. James noticed. It was hard not to. Sarah was¡­ not a subtle person. And it was clear she was having a lot of trouble keeping her smile in place lately. Not all the time, but sometimes. More and more, there were stumbling blocks that hit her really hard. The deaths of their friends, the hostility of the world. Sarah just wanted everyone to be happy together, and be happy with them. In a way, James saw a lot of his own worldview in her; the desire to build a better tomorrow, to lift others up with him, to see the best in everyone. But he also saw the cracks when that ran up against what they¡¯d been through. The world, and the people in it, often *weren¡¯t* nice. Weren¡¯t kind. They disappointed her, more so than they did him. Status Quo, the Mechanic, now the FBI, the Order had no shortage of people who didn¡¯t seem inclined to just sit down and discuss how to improve things. Entrenched powers with no interest in talking, only using force to get what they wanted. And he could clearly see it was tearing her up. Because to James, those people were¡­ obstacles. He¡¯d navigate around them, or, if not given the choice, *through* them. But his remorse for acting in self defense against people who¡¯d decided they were more monsters than most life forms that came from the dungeons was *low*. To Sarah, though? Every death was a tragedy. And the cost in their own lives was already higher than James would ever be okay with. To her, it must feel like being trapped under the proverbial mountain. ¡°Hey.¡± He said out loud, blinking a concerned look at her. ¡°Do you wanna go get a coffee later and just hang out for a while?¡± Sarah sniffed slightly, and looked away to wipe at the corner of her eye, before she turned back, smile back in place like everything was fine. ¡°Maybe!¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of stuff to do for the podcast, and-¡± ¡°Hey.¡± James interrupted her with a soft smile. ¡°We should go get a coffee later, and just hang out for a while.¡± ¡°...Yeah¡­¡± Sarah said with a tired emphasis. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James said, still smiling at her. ¡°Now go get your podcast stuff done. If you see anyone who seems like they might want to risk their life climbing a mountain, send them my way.¡± He paused. ¡°Actually, here¡¯s a question; do you think the camracondas might like it?¡± ¡°Frequency-Of-Sunlight might. But she¡¯s kinda into the whole ¡®risking life and mechanical limb¡¯ thing.¡± Sarah thought for a second. ¡°I¡¯ll ask em though! Heck, we¡¯ve got a more and more diverse roster in terms of species these days. We should make the effort to actually mix things up.¡± ¡°Affirmative action in action?¡± James smirked. ¡°I mean, sort of! The camracondas, and now the ratroaches, are full sophonts who are starting with literal nothing. Not even a society! They can¡¯t¡­ like, our world is occupied by people who may not accept them, covered in cities that weren¡¯t built for them. None of them have families, bank accounts, or driver¡¯s licenses.¡± Sarah gave James a wide eyed look. ¡°It¡¯s bad! And we *should* help them!¡± James held up his index finger. ¡°Texture-Of-Barkdust has a bank account.¡± ¡°What? How?!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t actually know? I think we tricked the bank by adding her to someone else¡¯s account, then removing that person. But, like, I get your point. Actually, I should check in with the ratroaches. See how they¡¯re acclimating to Tennessee, and then see if either of them want to come along.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s round up a few potentials. I¡¯ll meet you later tonight?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll *probably* meet me when lunch is served, because Nate is making burritos, and you haven¡¯t been replaced by a mimic.¡± Sarah quipped as she kicked herself off of the chairs she¡¯d assembled into a bench, and rolled to her feet. ¡°I¡¯ll see who¡¯s interested. Oh! Don¡¯t forget to get the name of the mountain! I¡¯m excited for that!¡± ¡°...You already know it, don¡¯t you?¡± James narrowed his eyes at her. ¡°You¡¯re too smug. You *do*! They already talked to you!¡± ¡°Gotta go! Bye!¡± Sarah bolted out his door, ducking under a passing Karen¡¯s arm, only barely avoiding knocking her drink to the floor. ¡°Sorry! I¡¯ll explain later!¡± James heard her yell from down the hall. Karen paused in James¡¯ office door, turning her head without moving the rest of her body or shifting the manilla folder full of paperwork she was holding to look at him. ¡°There¡¯s a budget report sitting under your keyboard. Costs for Response are stabilizing, but our payroll is still incredibly high relative to our income. I¡¯ve made some recommendations on potential investments. Also, the building Officium Mundi is located in is currently for lease; it looks as though the company is suspending operations due to pandemic losses. It¡¯s expensive, but we should look into acquiring it. Additionally, Harvey will be up in ten minutes to talk to you about an independent review board for Response. And my daughter and her friends will be arriving after that to meet with you.¡± ¡°...Karen, are you my secretary?¡± James asked, legitimately confused. ¡°No, I¡­¡± The older woman paused. ¡°Hm. I am going to assign one of the new interns to act as your secretary.¡± She said. ¡°One of them is competent. It will be a good fit for him.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James deadpanned. And then, following that, ¡°Actually though, thanks. I¡¯ll read over this really quick. I appreciate the work you do.¡± ¡°Yes, well.¡± Karen gave the smallest hint of a smile, and then continued past his door. ¡°Everyone around here is better at their jobs than I am.¡± James muttered to himself. ¡°And I¡¯m starting to feel like this whole operation would be better if I was just a random delver and someone else took over being in charge of things.¡± He grumbled. ¡°I could just stack dungeon powers, harvest chunks of precious metals, and not have to read budget reports. *Karen* could read the budget reports, after she wrote them, and then¡­ make the decisions¡­ hrmmmm. Okay, no. Well. She could give advice to whoever *does* make the decisions, and I could¡­¡± ¡°You could be that person.¡± Harvey¡¯s deep voice caught James¡¯ attention from his door. ¡°Ya know. Because that¡¯s what you do anyway.¡± ¡°Executive authority makes me itch.¡± James told him. ¡°Nice beard.¡± He added with an appreciative head tilt. Harvey¡¯s beard had evolved to a perfectly maintained pulse of curly hair that covered his chin and mouth. It was almost a sharp geometric shape, except for the depth to it, and the twists of the salt-and-pepper curls. ¡°Thanks.¡± The man said. ¡°So. Speaking of making you itch.¡± ¡°Yeah! Karen mentioned this. You¡¯ve got an outline for the thing we were talking about?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do you one better.¡± Harvey took a seat, but somehow didn¡¯t appear to relax in any meaningful way. ¡°We¡¯re all set to go.¡± ¡°Really? No problem finding volunteers or¡­ you know¡­ convincing people that it was real?¡± James asked, a little incredulous. Harvey just cocked an eyebrow at him. ¡°I know you¡¯re a little focused on certain things. But we¡¯ve *been* getting notice. I think the only reasons we aren¡¯t getting requests for interviews from cable news is that they can¡¯t find us, and we have a policy of hanging up on non-emergency calls.¡± Harvey gave a harsh grin. ¡°People are aware of us. And most importantly, there are people who are willing to work with us to make sure that we end up being what we promised.¡± ¡°What *are* we promising, anyway?¡± James asked. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ I mean, I¡¯ve done Response runs. But I¡¯m usually just focused on the job at hand. I know, in abstract, that we¡¯re trying to replace the police. But what¡¯s our actual, like¡­ what are we billing ourselves as?¡± ¡°Civilian need focused emergency response.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Which will now be operating with independent review and oversight.¡± ¡°Alright. Give me the details.¡± James said, leaning back and letting Harvey have the floor. The plan was simple, and, in both their opinions, something they really needed to get set in stone early. Response had an alarming amount of power. Not actual government authority, but they were operating in the capacity of people who had *personal* power, and used it without a policy beyond ¡®we are helping¡¯. Which wasn¡¯t bad, on its own, but it wasn¡¯t future proof. So, a protective measure was devised, at least as a transitional step. They¡¯d stolen the idea wholesale from a number of civil rights groups who were petitioning for something similar to be in place for the actual police. An independent review body, that had actual authority to remove knights and aspirants from Response positions, who would be tasked with handling any complaints about use of force or criminal activity. It had been a negotiation to set up. Between the Order¡¯s membership, they had a surprisingly large number of contacts in local civil rights organizations, but fewer in the other places they¡¯d started operating, like parts of Colorado or Ohio. Still, after they had a short list of names, and reached out to those people, getting them all to agree had been¡­ challenging. Not because they were against the idea. A lot of people - a *shocking* number of people, James had thought at the time, having limited experience with this beyond the abstract - were almost instantly on board with replacing the police as a viable agency. The problems cropped up, as always, in the details, and the questions. Who *were* they? What were their credentials? How did they expect to expand their operation? And then, once they¡¯d gotten through the explanation that magic was real and they could teleport, more practical questions. Was this review board supposed to be a full time job? How were they planning to manage their membership? What counted as ¡°criminal activity¡± when they were clearly setting their own code of conduct? Could they be penalized somehow for *failing* to uphold a law, if that came up? Also, how did the review board maintain itself? Who selected the members, and who verified they weren¡¯t bad actors? Were they allowed to make decisions about Response¡¯s operations, like using dungeontech that could fall into the wrong hands, or even just employing the camracondas? The answers had taken months to hash out. But, finally, Harvey had something concrete to give to James, and introduce to the Order. A nine person group, with policies for creating new units as Response did, fully let in on the secrets of the Order, but operating as outsiders. Finding people willing to accept that had been the tricky part, and Harvey willingly admitted that half of the initial batch of nominations were actually just training as Response members now. Their authority was rooted in the Order respecting their calls, but that was to be baked into the culture of Response from now on. Also, their authority was to be a little more literal, with long term members of the review board being offered Authorities to compliment the nature of their roles. It was, Harvey freely admitted, a risk. But it was a risk that he and James agreed was needed, if they were going to build Response into a system that could be trusted, and not just a capricious band of well intentioned vigilantes. The existence of systems was never the problem. Only ones with no oversight, and no compassion. And James fully intended to make sure Response had both. ¡°So, what now?¡± James asked when Harvey was done with the explanation and getting James to look over some paperwork, including briefs on all nine of their new watchers. Harvey folded his hands calmly in his lap. ¡°Now I get back to work, and so do you. Remember, we were already following all the rules we just negotiated other people to keep an eye on us for. We¡¯re self-regulating. But that¡¯s not good enough, if we¡¯re going to be a public force for good. So just remember, if you pick up a shift, that you need to follow our use-of-force restrictions. Oh, also, if you find anything in the Office tonight that works as a conflict resolution tool, make a few hundred copies and hand em out to us.¡± James nodded. ¡°Alright. Hey, have I thanked you lately, for doing all the hard work while I screw around? Because thanks. You seriously are doing a great job.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Oh, I know.¡± Harvey nodded, mouth set in a line that was trying not to grin. ¡°Also, isn¡¯t your screwing around mostly-¡° He was cut off as the floor rippled, and a slight shifting sound came from the hallway outside. Harvey kicked his chair back and was on his feet in a blink, while James vaulted his desk, a mostly decorative letter opener gripped in his hand like a knife as he planted his feet on the stilling floor by the door. Harvey slid out into the hallway, and James moved in the other direction, coming face to face with Karen, leading her assistant forward in a shooter¡¯s crouch, revolver aimed down the hall. James nodded at her, and the four of them moved through the upstairs office together, looking for the disturbance. ¡°Outside looks fine.¡± Harvey said, staring down at LA through the windows. ¡°No more fires than normal.¡± ¡°Conference area is empty.¡± Karen added. ¡°James?¡± James had stopped, and was staring at the elevator. Or, towards the elevator, anyway. The others moved up next to him, relaxing as he let his shoulders slump and set the letter opener calmly on a nearby desk. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re fine.¡± He said. ¡°What was that?¡± Harvey followed his line of sight, trying to figure out why the elevator door was so important. ¡°Well.¡± James said. ¡°How many doors are over there?¡± ¡°Three. Elevator, stairs, supply clos¡­¡± Karen stopped, and frowned. ¡°Four. There are four doors. Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll bet you a dollar it¡¯s Research testing green orbs.¡± James offered. ¡°Anyone?¡± Harvey gave James a shake of his head. ¡°Active Response members aren¡¯t allowed to gamble.¡± He said. ¡°That includes him, by the way.¡± He spoke to Karen¡¯s assistant who looked like she was about to pull out her wallet. ¡°Also, don¡¯t take that bet.¡± James rolled his eyes as he walked over and opened the new door, looking down the seemingly endless spiral of concrete steps and metal railing. ¡°Alright. Well. I¡¯ve gotta get to lunch and talk to some teenagers. I think I¡¯ll take the stairs. I could use some exercise.¡± He shook his head. ¡°This building is gonna be so fucking weird by the time we¡¯re done with it.¡± He muttered. ¡°Anyway, Harvey, thanks. Check in with me when it¡¯s all set up, if you want me to meet the council. Or whatever we¡¯re calling them.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a committee.¡± Karen informed him bluntly. ¡°Because not everything needs to be dramatic.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I can¡¯t hear you over all these stairs!¡± James¡¯ voice echoed off the inside of the concrete stairwell as he let the door close behind him. It took him eight flights before he regretted his choice. On the one hand, it was important to make sure the new stairs were normal and safe. But on the other hand, it was apparently as many stairs from here to the Lair as it was floors for the elevator to cross. At least there were no other doors out. That would have been a massive security and existential headache. __ ¡°Alright.¡± James sat at one of the tables in the dining room. It was a busy afternoon, dozens of members of the various arms of the Order assembling to share conversation and lunch. The volume of chatter wrapped the room in a comfortable, only *slightly* too loud blanket, ebbing and flowing as occasionally someone would get too excited, and the whole room would quiet slightly in self-aware reaction. Across from him, three people sat. Two human teenagers, and one camraconda for whom age wasn¡¯t really a meaningful measure of maturity. Morgan, Elizebeth, and Color-Of-Dawn; the three non-engineers who had survived the first encounter the Order had with the dungeon in the memetically slippery mountain. And, in a move that James hoped would become a tradition for the Order, they were the ones given first crack at naming the thing. Chevoy had abdicated her naming privileges, saying she couldn¡¯t be trusted with something like that. And Momo had argued that she hadn¡¯t been first, just the rescue crew. So that left these three. ¡°Alright?¡± Morgan repeated, looking around nervously. ¡°Oh, right.¡± James shook himself a little. ¡°Lost my train of thought. You three have decided on a name?¡± ¡°Sort of?¡± Elizebeth¡¯s response seemed subdued and questioning. ¡°We, um¡­ we aren¡¯t sure if there¡¯s a style or something that we were supposed to follow?¡± James chuckled. ¡°Well, I admit, I¡¯m pretty fond of the dramatic names that sound like fantasy locations.¡± He polished his nails on the sleeve of his shirt. ¡°That said, I haven¡¯t actually named any of these myself. And now that I think of it, it¡¯s *always* been Sarah. So if you want a style, I¡¯d ask her. But also, it¡¯s your call!¡± ¡°Morgan wanted to call it ¡®Fuck This¡¯ and provide no context.¡± Color-Of-Dawn ratted out his friend. ¡°We disagreed.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I mean¡­¡± James blinked, struggling to bridge his willingness to let them name the thing with his instant rejection of that suggestion. ¡°We could¡­ uh¡­¡± Morgan held up his hands defensively. ¡°No, no! It¡¯s fine, and I was kidding!¡± He said. ¡°Sorry, we were trying to come up with something that wasn¡¯t dumb. It¡¯s really hard!¡± ¡°It kind of is, yeah.¡± James agreed. ¡°Names are weird. Hell, I feel weird every time I name something in the Office. Color-Of-Dawn here had to pick their own name, which must have been kind scary. I got lucky being given a name I don¡¯t hate, you know? I never have to think about it.¡± He sighed. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m rambling. Probably because I¡¯m hungry, and I want to get a burrito before everyone else eats everything Nate prepared. Did you end up deciding on something?¡± ¡°Is it okay if we call it Winter¡¯s Climb?¡± Liz asked, blushing a little and not meeting James¡¯ eye. ¡°It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but¡­ when it wasn¡¯t trying to kill us, it was really pretty there. I don¡¯t want to give it a rude name, just because it¡¯s dangerous. And these two say they didn¡¯t hate that name.¡± James smiled reassuringly at all of them. ¡°Ya¡¯ll okay with that?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s¡­ I mean, it feels okay to me.¡± Morgan said. Color-Of-Dawn nodded, a bobbing motion of its camera head. ¡°I, too, find it reasonable. It is all the parts of winter I have seen, and nothing else.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ wait, yeah, hang on, have you experienced a winter?¡± James suddenly started thinking back. ¡°Yeah, you were here last year, right? Did we ever have snow?¡± Color-Of-Dawn froze in its bobbing. ¡°The snow is not a dungeon thing?¡± It asked, alarmed. ¡°Alright! I¡¯m gonna go get lunch! Morgan, Liz, have fun with that! And thanks for the name. Make sure to let Sarah know what you¡¯ve settled on today, okay? If you change your mind, it¡¯s alright, but once it gets out there, it¡¯ll kind be locked in unless something changes.¡± ¡°Like with the Road?¡± Elizebeth asked. ¡°Yeah, exactly.¡± James nodded. ¡°I guess that¡¯s something that¡¯s been getting talked about?¡± ¡°Everyone thinks it¡¯s scary. I mostly know about it from Sarah¡¯s recap, but¡­ it killed so many people.¡± Elizebeth looked down at her hands, and James noted with amusement that from either side of her, Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn almost unconsciously moved to comfort her. ¡°And now people are wanting to keep exploring it. And I don¡¯t get it? Momo¡¯s down there now, and all I can think is that she might get hurt.¡± James nodded, a pitying frown on his face. ¡°The dungeons are all dangerous.¡± He said. ¡°But I think, so far, the mountain, Winter¡¯s Climb, is tied for the meanest. It *trapped* you. The others, even Route Horizon, they¡¯re all just trying to live. And it¡¯s important to make the distinction that *she* didn¡¯t kill anyone. One angry old guy who stole the dungeon¡¯s power did.¡± ¡°And doesn¡¯t that just sound like everything else in the world.¡± Morgan grumbled. ¡°Hey! *I¡¯m* supposed to be the one making that observation!¡± James have a mock outburst, putting his hand over his chest as he stood up to go grab his lunch. ¡°Damn kids, stealing my world-weary attitude.¡± He switched back to his normal voice to finish talking to them. ¡°But really, the dungeons aren¡¯t safe, but they aren¡¯t all evil. And I think your name¡¯s a good one. Gives the benefit of the doubt.¡± ¡°And my origin point?¡± Color-Of-Dawn asked, giving James an angry look with its primary lens. ¡°I didn¡¯t say I thought they were right.¡± James said, voice hard. ¡°Just that they weren¡¯t all mass murderers.¡± He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s hard. There¡¯s no easy answer to this. And we¡¯re sorta just trying to muddle through it all too, and leave a trail of improvement in our wake. But hey! You¡¯re not dumb! Maybe you three can figure it out.¡± He gave them a nod and a smile. ¡°Enjoy your lunch. I¡¯ve gotta get my food and get going.¡± After he¡¯d walked off, the trio rotated around the table to occupy it for themselves. ¡°Was he making fun of us?¡± Morgan asked, looking after where James had walked off to the kitchens. ¡°I don¡¯t think he does that.¡± Elizebeth said. ¡°Why does he refer to us as a group?¡± Color-Of-Dawn asked, curious. The two humans looked at the camraconda, then back at each other, confusion on their faces. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know? Are we?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re a group? Not like them, anyway.¡± Elizebeth said. ¡°But also, we should talk about it later. We need to have lunch before we¡¯re late for the movie later!¡± Color-Of-Dawn and Morgan both jolted to attention. ¡°Right!¡± Morgan exclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s today! Oh, and Nik asked me if I wanted to go with him to the range tonight. Something about using bracelets? He said you two could come too if you wanted.¡± ¡°Movie first. Then we¡¯ll see.¡± Color-Of-Dawn gave a looping nod of a gesture. ¡°Also, food first. Still getting used to eating. Should do it more.¡± From his spot just inside the kitchen, James smirked as he watched the three of them. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± He noted. ¡°That¡¯s a future team right there.¡± ¡°What the hell are you doing lurking in my kitchen.¡± Nate¡¯s voice from right behind him snapped him back to reality with a shock of adrenaline. ¡°Nothing! Uh, lunch!¡± James explained. ¡°Burrito please? Also do you have a spare heart? Mine just exploded.¡± Nate glared at him, before jerking a thumb toward a trio of bagged lunches on the counter. ¡°Your stuff¡¯s ready. Get out of here before a server hits you with the door.¡± Not willing to dispute the power of his reflexes, especially after having been ambushed like that, James just nodded, grabbed the food, and tore a telepad page with his teeth. He was gone before he noticed Nate shaking his head and holding back a quiet smile. _____ Arrush crouched in a cautious position on the roof of what he was told used to be a police station. What a police was, or why they were stationed here, were questions he had technically had answered, but still didn¡¯t fully comprehend. There were a lot of things he did not fully comprehend. Civilization was a big one. Food that tasted good was a small one. But they were all linked. There were so many connections, between so many things. He had never needed to track that many connections in his life. Previously, there were two connections that mattered. There was the angry, vicious bond between the Beautiful One, and all the others she owned the lives of, and there was the gentle, impossibly fragile bond between himself, and Keeka. They had names now. They had always had names, really. The soft sound of affection that Keeka called him had now become the thing that everyone referred to him as. And the noise of alert that he had used to get the smaller ones attention when danger was near had become his own name as well. It was¡­ so strange. So public. Out in the open. Others, who saw their bond openly, and did not try to use it to hurt them. Who took them in, told them they were valuable. Arrush was waiting for the trap to close, but it still hadn¡¯t. He had been gifted so many things. Armor against the elements and small pests, in the form of decadently comfortable cloth. Nutrition that didn¡¯t taste like waste and fire. And words. So many words. He had a word for his partner now. *Partner*. More words, too. Boyfriend, lover, companion. It still made acidic drops of emotion form in the corners of his many eyes to think it. Word that he had never known that he needed. Arrus had been living in a desert his whole life, and had just been shown an ocean. Even that thought, was a *metaphor*. He had time and context to make metaphors, sitting on this empty roof, staring out over the remains of what had once been a city. A population center fifty times the size of his home, *empty*. He couldn¡¯t comprehend the threat that had done it, but he could understand that this place had undergone a great pain. Pain he understood. The human who had, ultimately, brought him to this vantage point, had come by earlier today. The empty paper bag and the remnant crumbs of a burrito sitting nearby paid testament to that visit. They had spoken, for some time. Arrush had been nervous, in his own way, at first. Not nervous as the human - as *James* - seemed to think, but nervously waiting for the fighting to start. For one or the other to bitterly subdue their foe and force them to comply. But that raw fear had never come to pass. Instead, James had just¡­ wanted to talk. He struggled not with tooth and claw, but with tone and rhetoric. And he was not here to force an oath, but to ask questions. To make sure Arrush and Keeka were *doing okay*. The ratroach choked a wet laugh, remembering it. He did not know if he would ever be okay. James had asked what they wanted. And he had, patiently, waited for Arrush to think, and then explain. His own thoughts had surprised him, once he was guided to think them. What did he want? He wanted to never be afraid again. He wanted¡­ he wanted more. More of this. More food, and sun, and air. More of the strange people who now surrounded him in this building. The people who smiled at him and his partner, who had never once tried to hurt him. He didn¡¯t care, anymore, if it was a long trap. He would walk into it willingly if it was. He couldn¡¯t imagine another choice. Arrush wanted to be strong enough to keep this. James had nodded at him. He understood. Arrush could see it, in the eyes. The eyes that were so different than what he knew, but just as expressive. The human had never felt pain like him, never known a life like his, but he understood regardless. Then he asked something different. If Arrush was strong enough, would he take this comfort from others, to keep it for himself? It was a good question. He had taken a long time to think of the answer. Long enough that James had found a book to read while he patiently waited for Arrush to think. No. He decided. No. Because¡­ because¡­ if he did that, there would be every chance that he would be taking from someone like Keeka. Like his partner. Now that he was out here, now that he knew there were others like him, who *felt things*, how could he ever hurt them, knowing any of them could be like the exact person he loved? James had folded the book shut and gently set it on the edge of the roof, before asking one last question. ¡°In a few days, I¡¯m going somewhere like your origin point.¡± He¡¯d said. ¡°Less dark, more cold. It¡¯ll be dangerous, and risky, but it might be something that gets me more strength. To protect what I think is important.¡± James had met Arrush¡¯s eyes, and asked then, ¡°Would you like to come with us?¡± And Arrush hadn¡¯t known then. But it had been hours of thinking now. James had left, telling him he had time to decide, and there would be more opportunities. But it had been long enough that his partner had woken up and found him on the roof. Long enough that the other members of the cleanup crew here had checked in on them, brought them dinner and a blanket. Long enough that the stars had come out. The stars. So many tiny dots of light, keeping a clean and refreshing watch on the world. The world was too big, Arrush decided, for him to ever know his place in it. But next to him, Keeka pressed against his side under the blanket, a trio of hands softly running freshly trimmed claws through his fur and over his chitin. And Arrush realized that he didn¡¯t need to know his place in the world. Just his place here. ¡°I am going to go.¡± He rasped out, voice still aching from overuse today, not yet modified to what the humans promised would be a state that didn¡¯t hurt anymore. Keeka burrowed into his side under the blanket, clutching tightly to his partner. ¡°Not forever.¡± Arrush reassured him. ¡°Want to¡­ keep you safe.¡± His partner made a hissing click. Their own secret language, a voice they would never really give up. They didn¡¯t have a word for ¡±why¡±. But they did have a signal for ¡°you won¡¯t leave me behind.¡± Not a question, but a statement. If Arrush was going, Keeka was too. ¡°Stay.¡± The much larger ratroach half-whispered. ¡°Be safe. Back before you miss me.¡± ¡°Miss you already.¡± The thin, wispy voice came from under their blanket. Arrush cracked his muzzle in a grin, trying to not feel bad as the sizzling blue liquid that was one of the fluids his body produced dripped to the blanket and left hissing black marks on it. It didn¡¯t take many words for them to know each other¡¯s hearts. But here, he felt like he could speak forever and never fully explain *why*. Why he felt he had to go. Why he owed them, why he wanted to see the horizon. So many whys, all mixed up in one burning feeling that James¡¯ question had ignited in his chest. No one should ever be as afraid as he had been. And so, if this world rejected that, he would be strong enough that he could reject it in turn. Two of his arms wrapped his partner close to him, under one blanket of cotton and one of stars. No one would ever be as afraid as him again. _____ ¡°Your tests came back negative.¡± Deb informed James as he was busy adding a ¡®delvers wanted¡¯ notice to the community board in the front lobby. ¡°You¡¯re clear to go. Though, again, you¡¯ll need to teleport, since Australia still has some strict quarantine rules in place. Which you will be flagrantly breaking.¡± ¡°To be fair, it¡¯s not that flagrant if I¡¯m getting multiple tests before teleporting to a remote part of the wilderness and only sticking around long enough to get to a dungeon.¡± ¡°The dungeon is in Australia.¡± Deb informed him, crossing her arms. ¡°I know there¡¯s no *laws* about it, but come on. Dungeons are where they are.¡± ¡°Ah, good old tautologies.¡± James sighed. ¡°Well, thanks. Hey, you wanna come?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t. I¡¯m filling in for someone at the hospital.¡± Deb gave a sigh of her own. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna say that the doctor is taking advantage of us owing him favors, but he certainly is persuasive when he wants to be.¡± James nodded. ¡°I getchya. Well, anyone you know who might want to go?¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t take Frequency. At least not for the first one.¡± Deb gave James a pleading look. ¡°I know she wants to go, but it¡¯s a *mountain*, and her robot arms aren¡¯t strong enough yet to make that safe. Take, I dunno, take Nate or something.¡± ¡°I was thinking that! But Sarah shot down my idea. Something about Nate being busy leading a cadre of spies, since JP is out of town.¡± ¡°This place is weird.¡± Deb sighed. ¡°Oh, quick thing. I know you¡¯re going to the Office tonight, do you mind doing a test copy run of a bunch of yellows? If there¡¯s even one minor medical skill, it could help a lot more than I think you know.¡± ¡°Ehhhhhh.¡± James grimaced. ¡°I¡¯m loathe to give up a run of cancer orbs, honestly. We¡¯re already only using eight of our nine duplication runs on that. It feels like it¡¯ll never be enough.¡± ¡°I had Alex run the numbers. Medical skill in the right place could save more lives. Not in the same way, but it¡¯s important. And it doesn¡¯t need to be all the time, just test a bunch of the small ones? Please?¡± Deb gave James a look that told him this was important to her. He sighed. ¡°Yeah, I suppose that¡¯s fair. Especially since a lot of people aren¡¯t getting the chance to delve these days, huh? You¡¯re pretty much just doing med student stuff, right?¡± ¡°Among other things.¡± Deb confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s gotten out of control.¡± ¡°What has?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James snorted a laugh. ¡°Alright.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ve got a date to go get coffee with my best friend. I don¡¯t know when we¡¯ll talk next, but I¡¯ll post a list of gains to the server. A lot of people are interested in what we find tonight, and I¡¯ll include the copied yellows. Sound good?¡± ¡°Thanks James.¡± Deb smiled at him, dimples in her cheeks showing. ¡°Good luck.¡± ¡°You too.¡± He said. ¡°Good luck to all of us, constantly, really!¡± _____ James¡¯ legs ached. Currently, he was sitting against the wall of the upper floor of the cubicle tower right near the door to Officium Mundi. A strange feeling of the wall behind him being too thin pervaded his body; a reminder that if he pressed back too hard, he would tumble through two hundred feet of open air and probably land on something hard. But oddly, it didn¡¯t worry him. He felt perfectly in control of himself. It was just information, he wouldn¡¯t fall unless he wanted to. Well, perfectly in control of all parts except his legs. Legs that had taken him on a five mile circuit of several of the known points of interest within the twisting hallways of the Office, legs that had gotten him through a chase with a maul cart, legs that had climbed up three of these cubical towers today, and back down two of them. In short, James was tired, and he was explaining all of this to an Anesh who was very patiently pretending to listen while carefully pouring coffee grounds onto the floor and conference table. ¡°James, I love you, but this *sounds* exhausting, and I still have two more of these to do today.¡± James looked around the upper floor. ¡°Yeah, hang on, didn¡¯t you have an assistant or something? Where¡¯s Momo?¡± ¡°Momo¡¯s been notably absent from a lot of stuff for a week or two. And my assistants have all either ended up going on more interesting delves, or being a camraconda who found the experience ¡®engaging but not worth coming back here¡¯.¡± Anesh looked up and frowned, pivoting his head to stare at James with intense eyes. ¡°James am I boring?¡± He asked. ¡°I worry that I¡¯m boring¡± With a quick check around the room to make sure he wasn¡¯t being pranked somehow, James tentatively answered. ¡°You are setting up a magical ritual that will spawn roughly a hundred and twenty magical bath beads that cure cancer.¡± ¡°Anyone could do that and still be boring about it.¡± Anesh countered. ¡°I¡¯m not having this argument with you.¡± ¡°Fiiiine.¡± Anesh relented with a dramatic sigh. ¡°Well, how was your dungeon experience today? Did you and I find anything cool?¡± James couldn¡¯t help but give a strange burst of laugher. ¡°I don¡¯t get why you ask that. You will literally have all the memories in a few hours.¡± Anesh smiled calmly. ¡°Well, when I do, I¡¯ll have the memories of discovering things with you for the first time, and also hearing them from you for the first time. It¡¯s more collective memories of you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ aw. Okay, that was more emotionally open than I was expecting. I thought there was gonna be a joke!¡± James pressed his hands together over his chest, giving Anesh a wide eyed gaze. ¡°Nope! Only relentless love and all that!¡± Anesh waved a hand idly in James direction without looking, drawing a much louder burst of laughter from his boyfriend at the sudden juxtaposition of tone. ¡°Anyway. Where is other me, actually? *I* could be a good assistant.¡± ¡°I think you already know that he¡¯s avoiding doing this because he won the coin flip.¡± James grinned. ¡°Also he¡¯s out with Alanna doing more hunting for oranges.¡± ¡°Bah.¡± Anesh already knew, because he knew himself, but it still wasn¡¯t going to stop him from grumbling. ¡°Well, find anything good while you were out?¡± They sort of had. Aside from the box of small yellows that were on the table to be copied and tested next at Deb¡¯s request, they¡¯d come back with what had become a pretty standard haul for a delve. A few thousand dollars, a sealed briefcase for future investigation, a USB stick that appeared to store network connection, a stack of various random candy (partially because there was an ongoing theory that eating dungeon candy did in fact expand how many blues you could have absorbed, partially because one of them was called Lemon Alligators and there was no way in hell either James or Alanna was going to pass on that), a few purple orbs that were set aside for sharing with Order members that weren¡¯t active delvers and one green earmarked for a local library, and just a whole host of random magic items that were probably going to get rendered down into blues. ¡°We¡¯ve got, like, three pairs of headphones.¡± James said. ¡°And they¡¯ve all got that itch to them, you know? That feeling that they¡¯re dungeontech. Actually, *you* spotted one of them, so that¡¯s cool. No idea what any of them do yet though.¡± ¡°It¡¯s like that way too often. We don¡¯t give Research enough credit for stumbling into answers sometimes.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Like, remember the headphones that read books to you, if ¡®plugged into¡¯ a book?¡± ¡°I think my favorite part of that was learning that Reed doesn¡¯t have an internal voice when he reads, and then learning that a *lot* of people don¡¯t, which is why audiobooks are so popular.¡± James got sidetracked briefly talking about using the headphones for rapid production of audiobooks, before Anesh got him back on track by verbally nudging him toward anything else they¡¯d found. ¡°Ah. Well, the main thing is, I don¡¯t know.¡± James admitted. ¡°So many times, we find something that seems absurd, but it doesn¡¯t work the way we want. And then we¡¯ll find something that seems kind of whatever, but it turns out it¡¯s got more uses and bigger uses than I ever thought about.¡± He shrugged. ¡°So, I dunno. I dunno if the backpack that randomizes it interior is useful. I don¡¯t know if the dress shirt that changes colors is useful. It¡¯s all so small and pointless most of the time.¡± He thumped his head against the wall behind him, eliciting a hollow thud. ¡°That¡¯s why I like the orbs. They might be dumb, but I don¡¯t have to carry them around or worry about them.¡± ¡°Did you get any good skills, at least?¡± Anesh asked sympathetically. ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t get any skills. I brought them all here, to copy.¡± James said, like it was obvious. Anesh frowned at him, trying to raise a single eyebrow in consternation. ¡°James. You¡¯re allowed to benefit from the dungeon too, you know. You don¡¯t have to give away everything.¡± ¡°I can already teleport and walk off being hit by a car!¡± James protested. ¡°I can-¡° ¡°You can *not* walk off being hit by a car, and you¡¯re going to take the yellow copies and be the one to test them.¡± Anesh crossed his arms and stared at James evenly until his boyfriend, sputtering and protesting, eventually ran out of excuses and relented. ¡°Good.¡± Anesh said, slapping the projector, consuming two pounds of coffee grounds in a flash of light, and spawning a box of exacting dimensions full of purple orbs. ¡°Give me ten minutes to set this up again, and then you can eat a bunch of skills.¡± ¡°I can help.¡± James said, shoving himself to his knees with a groan. ¡°Just¡­ let me get my circulation working again.¡± ¡°I thought you could endure anything.¡± Anesh smirked. ¡°I haven¡¯t learned enough pangolin facts to upgrade my Endurance and also I lied about the car thing. Shut up.¡± James rebutted, staggering upright and stretching his arms with boney pops. ¡°Alright. Give me one of those scoops, and turn the diagram board so I can see.¡± Fifteen minutes later, another case popped into being. James, being James, still didn¡¯t want to take every single orb that was copied, leaving a good chunk of them for others to test. But he took enough to make Anesh stop mock scowling at him at least. [+1 Skill Rank : History - Carpentry] [+1 Skill Rank : Gambling - Baccarat] [+1 Skill Rank : Manufacture - Pipe - Ceramic] [+1 Skill Rank : Construction - Insulation] [+1 Skill Rank : Baking - Muffin - Cranberry] [+1 Skill Rank : Pike] [+1 Skill Rank : Ritual - Pregame - Baseball] [+1 Skill Rank : Cleaning - Mopping] [+1 Skill Rank : Art - Spraypaint] [+1 Skill Rank : Athletics - Climbing] [+1 Skill Rank : Templating - Maintenance Report - Water District - New Zealand] [+1 Skill Rank : Repair - Furniture - Bed Frame] [+1 Skill Rank : Animals - Shark] [+1 Skill Rank : Biology - Human - Common Diagnosis] [+1 Skill Rank : Demographics - Europe - Southern] [+1 Skill Rank : Fabrication - Shoes] [+1 Skill Rank : Music - Theremin - Theory] [+1 Skill Rank : Government - Policy - Hong Kong] [+1 Skill Rank : Cooking - Chicken] [+1 Skill Rank : Break Dancing] Knowledge flooded James¡¯ mind. A hundred chunks separated into a thousand facts, points of data like lights in the night. In an instant, he knew more than he had yesterday, more than he¡¯d ever learn on his own in a decade. Some things struck him as he processed it: there was a skill Deb would want in human biology, there was also a skill he wanted more of in climbing before they tackled the mountain, and there were a couple of skills that would make him even more eager to get into a kitchen. Before he could start up a conversation with Anesh going over the finer points of different polearm styles, and why he needed to tap the budget to commission a very specific one for personal use, though, James found himself sitting in a classroom surrounded by an angry void. ¡°You must choose!¡± The bladed ball of hate clad in a tweed jacket that was Teacher stood at the front of the class. ¡°Plagiarist! Decide and-!¡± James cut it off. ¡°Endurance again.¡± He said. Zero interest in the other options. Then he was back where he had been, legs suddenly feeling¡­ well, not ¡®better¡¯, really. But despite the aches and pains, he knew he could run another five miles if he needed to. He croaked out a word, calling up his syllabus from the Akashic Sewer. [Lesson Continues : Basketball II 288 / 1200, Accuracy I, Agility I Lesson Continues : Biology II 122 / 1800, Endurance II] ¡°Alright.¡± James said to Anesh. ¡°So. The Lessons *do* scale up way more if you have two of them, the second one goes up more, and the whole jump between here and the classroom place is jarring and awful, even if I don¡¯t remember most of I t.¡± He said. ¡°Also, I know a lot about sharks now.¡± ¡°Just sharks?¡± Anesh asked with a worried smile. ¡°Sharks kill fewer humans every year than vending machines.¡± James replied. ¡°Is¡­ was that part of a skill rank?¡± James shrugged. ¡°Nah. I just knew that one already. Also, hey, we should get moving before the night¡¯s over. You should take some of these too, by the way! Enjoy a skill rank before we share the others with the team.¡± Anesh hummed, and considered the box of assorted copied orbs that James had already plucked several out of like a selection of chocolates. Unlike his boyfriend, he stared carefully, before eventually winding his hand through the container to pick a single orb that just felt *right* to him. ¡°Alright,¡± He said, ¡°but just the one, and then we can get going.¡± [+.4 Skill Ranks : Mathematics - Geometry] Anesh smirked at his good choice, or good fortune, and relayed the earned skill to James. ¡°How are you so good at picking those?¡± James asked, confused. ¡°This is, like, the eighth math orb you¡¯ve gotten!¡± ¡°The dungeon likes me.¡± Anesh said simply. ¡°Now let¡¯s got share these, and give Deb the good news about her own luck.¡± Chapter 170 "It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness; that is life." - Captain Jean Luc Picard, Star Trek - _____ Six people blipped into existence in an abandoned campsite outside of Alice Springs, Australia. Technically - okay, not even ¡®technically¡¯ really - they were violating the ongoing quarantine procedures for travelers. Pandemic restrictions were relaxing as more and more people got vaccinated, but there was still a proper protocol for arriving in the country, and ¡®teleport wherever you want¡¯ absolutely wasn¡¯t it. They were all vaccinated though, and recently tested too. Even Arrush, who might actually be exempt from the legal ramifications of their actions, being non-human. According to Deb, ratroach bodies took to vaccines in general with frightening efficacy. Taking in the scenery in front of him, James stepped forward and stumbled over something in the dark, swearing as the heavy pack he was wearing unbalanced him. They had planned for a huge number of dungeon based problems, and somehow, he¡¯d still forgotten that there was a *time difference*. Behind him, Alanna and Anesh removed their hands from his shoulders, Alanna swearing as she tripped over the same rock James had, while Anesh stayed put as he pulled his phone out and engaged the flashlight. James did the same, as did Nikhail behind them, and as their eyes adjusted, they got a decent look at the empty campground they were in. Arrush, not needing light to see perfectly, made a stilted motion and stepped away from the humans. The last member of their group, Alex, almost immediently tilted sideways as the person she was leaning on shifted away, her own heavy pack unbalancing her with a yelp. The six of them were the planned team for this initial delve. James, Anesh, and Alanna all basically just had dibs. Arrush had been asked because the ratroaches needed all the help they could get with things. Nik and Alex were¡­ well, not exactly ¡®filler¡¯, but they were both very interested, and hadn¡¯t been in nearly as many dungeons as a lot of members of the Order. Reed had complained that James was stealing his best research assistant. Harvey had complained that James was stealing Response¡¯s best medic. Nik had complained that he basically never got to do delves, and yet somehow had two jobs in the Order. James had snatched him up for this as soon as he¡¯d shown an interest, but had made the concession to Research and Response to not poach any more of their members for this run. In contrast, Alex didn¡¯t seem attached to any particular project in the Order. In fact, James wasn¡¯t actually sure what the girl *did*. He¡¯d been kind of surprised to find that the answer was mostly just background research for other projects, and then trying to guess at how blue totems worked in her free time. The answer left her basically unattached, and she was happy to tag along. She legitimately loved dungeon exploration, and James was pretty sure she loved it more for the danger. Sadly, much as they had wanted to come, Rufus and Ganesh were excluded on the grounds that anyone the wind could pick up and throw off a cliff were just off the guest list. Similarly, while they¡¯d talked to the camraconda population about it, none of them were confident enough in the mechanical arm harnesses to test them under these harsh conditions. Well, Frequency-Of-Sunlight was. But she was vetoed. And not just because her girlfriend was worried about her. ¡°Kinda cold here.¡± James commented. ¡°Isn¡¯t it supposed to be warmer here in the later months?¡± ¡°First off, it¡¯s *barely* October.¡± Alanna corrected him. ¡°Also, it¡¯s night. Everywhere is colder at night.¡± Nikhail slid his pack off. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan, glorious leader?¡± He asked. James sighed and looked around. ¡°Well, what time is it?¡± He checked his phone. ¡°Okay, we¡¯ve actually got about an hour until sunrise. Let¡¯s just take a bit to relax, then get our gear on and start moving in the right direction.¡± He glanced in the right direction, then back down, shaking his head as he instantly lost the ability to remember the mountain. ¡°Planner¡¯s trick is so weird. I *know it¡¯s there*, but I can¡¯t¡­ ugh. This is gonna be a headache.¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna look *this way* for an hour.¡± Alanna said, dragging her feet through the packed dirt as she turned to face away from their destination. ¡°For some reason, I thought you guys would be way more¡­ professional?¡± Alex looked awkward as she spoke. ¡°Like, I know you all a bit, but I figured on something like this.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re capable of it.¡± James admitted. ¡°But we¡¯re not in the dungeon yet, and I don¡¯t feel like staying serious for a whole walk there.¡± Alanna checked their map. ¡°On that note, judging by where the last group was when they got dungeon-napped, we¡¯re maybe a mile away. So, right near the place. Which¡­ actually might explain why this campground is empty. Yikes.¡± ¡°Nah, I just booked it ahead of time.¡± James told her. ¡°Well, Karen did. It¡¯s fine.¡± He looked around as everyone found a seat on a rock or part of the ground, and set their packs full of gear in the middle of their group. ¡°Arrush, you doing alright?¡± He asked the newest member of the Order. The ratroach gave a slow nod, like he was uncertain. ¡°New smells. And something familiar.¡± He spoke through his awkwardly shaped mouth. ¡°I will adapt.¡± ¡°Alright, just let us know if you need help with anything. Telepad travel can be uncomfortable.¡± They took some time to relax and try to mentally prepare for what they were about to attempt. At a certain point, Alanna stood and started stretching, and a couple of the others followed her example. A half hour of nervous waiting later, the sky started to lighten, and they started taking turns to change into the cold weather gear and armor combo that they had prepared. The heavier coats and gloves could wait until they actually entered the dungeon, and it would be uncomfortable to make the hike there if it started to warm up any more. But it wasn¡¯t worth trying to change clothes in a blizzard, and they were *mostly* all used to long walks in armor already anyway. Arrush actually had custom armor plating, and seemed¡­ well, James wasn¡¯t used to reading the ratroach¡¯s emotions. But when presented with the bundle, he stared at it for several minutes as he held it with all three of his hands, clutching the package like he was worried someone would take it back. He¡¯d almost held back from giving Arrush the custom fit Status Quo glove, worried the big ratroach would cry if he was handed it too suddenly. He was the last one to get changed, with James helping him into some of the armor. The ratroach tried to control it, but James noticed how he flinched when touched. ¡°Hey.¡± He muttered softly to their new recruit. ¡°If you¡¯re uncomfortable with anything, just let me know, okay? I know it¡¯s hard to remember, and no one will blame you for reacting otherwise, but we aren¡¯t¡­ I mean, you¡¯re a person, okay? That matters to us.¡± The big ratroach hadn¡¯t met James¡¯ eye, but had nodded regardless, which he took as a win. Backpacks were rearranged and reshouldered. Sips of water and snacks were had. Last minute bathroom breaks were taken. No one said much during this idle time, and even James eased up on the jokes, mostly just playing Sudoku on his phone while waiting for everyone else. They weren¡¯t actually using their own phones, really. They were just copied smartphones with no plan. All of them in durable waterproof cases, with a slot on the front of the armor¡¯s webbing to be tied into so they could have a recording of the delve for future reference. The rest of their gear was a mix of standard mountaineering, and standard delving tools. Ice picks and pitons, rope and climbing rigs. But also sidearms, sharpened hatchets, reflex coffee thermoses, a set of blue orbs each, one of the copied Status Quo material-breaker gloves, a trio each of exercise recovery potions, and a half dozen other little dungeontech tricks and tools. Also, the Order now had enough random computing power chugging away in the basement of the Lair to operate a number of the immunity programs that their AI had been harvesting for them, and Anesh had been slowly copying in the miscellaneous part of their weekly duplication rituals. Not all of them were incredibly useful, but everyone here was sitting at a minimum of five percent protection from both venom, and wood. They hadn¡¯t gotten one for cold. But James remembered Momo¡¯s debrief, and the discussion of the tree creatures. So wood was on the menu. And, of course, everyone had been given an armory kit of purples. All six of them, if they hadn¡¯t had it already, had gotten an extra meter and a half of safe fall distance, a couple prevented broken bones, an extra half liter of daily blood production, and a degree and a half of temperature tolerance. A half mile into their hike, Alex posed a question to the group while they approached the dungeon¡¯s territorial boundary. ¡°Hey, why aren¡¯t we just flying Pendragon in there?¡± She said. ¡°I know Dave doesn¡¯t need to pilot her or anything, right? Shouldn¡¯t we¡­ dragon?¡± ¡°Dragon would be so cool¡­¡± Nik mumbled. ¡°We¡¯re not bringing Pen because she¡¯s huge, and we actually don¡¯t want to attract too much attention.¡± James said. ¡°This is one of those spiteful feeling dungeons, remember. I don¡¯t think it¡¯d react well. Also, the big girl just doesn¡¯t do well in the cold, according to Dave.¡± ¡°Neither do I, but you brought me!¡± Alanna griped. ¡°Hey, you and Anesh agreed! No complaining until we¡¯re *on the mountain*!¡± James cheerfully reminded her as they kept walking up the slope of the terrain on the approach to the dungeon. ¡°That was the deal!¡± ¡°We¡¯re approaching the line.¡± Anesh said, interrupting the banter with a final check on his GPS. ¡°Should we gear up here?¡± It was posed as a question, but he pulled a set of ski goggles over his eyes, and slipped on the mismatched set of dungeontech modified gloves regardless. The others followed his lead, James trying to not feel stifled as he covered so much of himself in a protective shell that wasn¡¯t yet needed. The sun was just touching the horizon, turning the sky into streamers of color that all of them took the time to sneak glances at, when they crossed some kind of invisible line. They were still in the middle of the Australian wilderness, still approaching a mountain that seemed to never get closer, but suddenly, there was a feeling in the air. A feeling of being watched, not too closely, but with the grim certainty that action was being taken. James felt it on the back of his neck, and he tensed up instantly, along with a near-instant reaction from Arrush. A second later, Alanna and Anesh got the same feeling, though less specific. The others didn¡¯t react to it, and almost bumped into the forward members of the group as they slowed down. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Alex asked tentatively, still not quite comfortable with casual delve team conversation, but trying her best. James opened his mouth to say something, when motion in the dirt to their left caught all their attention. ¡°Group up!¡± James called over the sudden wind and kicked up dirt. Twenty meters away from them, an oval of twisting lightning was forming in the air, growing steadily and beginning to move toward the party. ¡°Here we go! Everyone stay calm, pair off, and get ready to land and start moving!¡± The dungeon net sprung into motion, whipping forward at an appropriately lightning speed. Anesh and Alanna linked arms, leaving James to step back and pair off with Alex, feeling the other girl vibrating with either fear or excitement. Behind them, Nik stepped closer to Arrush, and while the ratroach tensed, he didn¡¯t shy away from gripping arms with his own delve partner. This took seconds, and in that time, the mountain¡¯s combination trap and doorway had closed the distance, and wrapped around them. The sky shifting from sunrise colors to a crackling dark void as the electric edge sealed around them in a dome. And then they were *falling*, sensations snapping into place around them one by one as they crossed the edge between the real world and the dungeon¡¯s domain. James landed in the snow, legs sinking down until the line of pure white cold was above his knees. If he hadn¡¯t sunk so deeply, he would certainly have fallen, but the soft powder stabilized him just enough. Next to him, Alex pitched forward, and he braced his feet and pulled her back upright. Months of magically assisted high intensity exercise and a more active lifestyle than he¡¯d ever had before had made James stronger, which he knew in the abstract, but it was still a strange sensation to just move an entire human without much effort. Then the wind of their transition stopped, and there was the barest moment of stillness. Before a new wind kicked in; a baleful howling that threw sharp handfuls of ice crystals into their faces and threatened to drag them off all on its own. ¡°Everyone here?!¡± James heard himself yelling over the sound of the wind. Ahead of him, two figures pulled themselves out of a snowbank as Anesh and Alanna stood up. Off to the side, Nik helped Arrush up, and James saw the ratroach say something, but couldn¡¯t hear it over the wind. Whatever it was, Nik jerked away kind of suddenly. He¡¯d check to make sure that wasn¡¯t a problem later. For now, everyone had a little more to do. Winter coats were pulled out and put on, before the cold really started to set in. Anyone who didn¡¯t have masks and goggles on already made sure to fix them in place now. Even Arrush had a more or less properly fitted set of winter gear just for himself. It was cold. It was *really* cold. But they weren¡¯t a group of unprepared hikers. They¡¯d come ready for this, and between the wetsuits, the face coverings, and the extra thermal layers, none of them were in danger of freezing anytime soon. Around them stretched the dungeon. Winter¡¯s Climb, the name felt *small* compared to the vastness of the place. And yet, somehow, it settled into James with a cold comfort. It was winter, and they could climb it. Yeah, this was doable. Momo had described it, but actually seeing it in person was something else. The sky felt too close, and not even twenty feet behind them was the edge of a cliff, beyond which was just more sky and distant mountains barely visible through the white and black curtain of wind and ice. Ahead, the peak was so tall it wasn¡¯t fully visible. Up and up and up it went, a somewhat gentle slope at first, but rising at a higher angle as it pierced through a cloud layer. Beyond that¡­ there was more. He could feel it. There was no sun or moon. No way to tell if it was supposed to be day or night. Instead, the sky radiated a dull, pale light that made the shadows of the landscape jump out without ever making it feel like they had good visibility. James saved his voice, instead using hand gestures to get everyone¡¯s attention, and get them moving. The snow whipped around them, a slurry of ice crystals that would have been far more threatening if they weren¡¯t wearing protection from the wet. But for all the wind and weather, visibility here was still not too bad. There was only one way to go, really. Up and forward. They could have circled around to the side of the slope, and there may be secrets to find there later. But for now, they needed to explore, and the simplest way to do that kind of scouting was to take the cleanest path first. The team spread out slightly, moving side by side as pairs as they started heading upward. They took a little time to get their bearings, but despite being a huge and impossible space, the dungeon wasn¡¯t actually that *large*. It was strange, because of how it *wasn¡¯t* strange, and James almost got distracted thinking about it as he followed the trail plowed in the snow behind Anesh and Alanna. The sky was wrong, and the sheer scope of the mountain made him feel tiny. But mountains did that anyway. And unlike Route Horizon or Officium Mundi, there wasn¡¯t anything truly impossible about the landscape yet. Though not for lack of trying. James swore as a blast of wind sprayed more wet snow into his face. A quick wipe with the back of his glove cleared his vision, and he felt like he was warming up more than cooling down in his protective gear. But it was still getting worse. Next to him, Alex swore and stumbled as she hit a rock under all the snow. ¡°How far up does this go?!¡± She yelled over the wind at him. ¡°No idea!¡± James replied. ¡°This might be the whole way!¡± ¡°Can we even fight in this?¡± She asked, her voice loud enough that Anesh and Alanna paused and turned back to check if everything was okay. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out!¡± James said, and patted her on the shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving! Maybe the wind ends somewhere!¡± The slope they were on only seemed to be maybe a five degree incline. And yet, every step felt like it took ten times the effort it should have. The snow held them back, the wind shifted to blow directly against them, and James almost lost track of time as they proceeded upward. The landscape wasn¡¯t barren, though the vast majority of what they could see in their close proximity was a white blanket, dotted in places by the tops of rocks poking through, or just pockets of snow casting deep black shadows. Beyond that, there were larger boulders that showed off rough grey stone capped in white, potential breaks from the driving snow. Or singular trees, proud coniferous forms showing off green branches that waved in the winds. They avoided all of them. They weren¡¯t desperate for a break, they weren¡¯t starting to freeze. It was better to keep pressing on, than risk one of the obvious early traps. James wondered, not for the first time, how Momo had survived this while wearing *jeans*. Just as James was starting to think the wind was going to be a permanent feature here, he saw Anesh and Alanna straighten up in front of him, and start to spread out. Pushing a little extra oomph into his footsteps, he urged Alex forward and a few seconds later, stepped through a curtain of calm. Behind him, the wind blew and sleet fell. Here, as suddenly as stepping through a door, it was quiet and placid. Only a light drifting snowfall that gradually added to the powder around them. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°Oh thank fuck.¡± Nik exclaimed as he pushed forward, Arrush an armspan away. He wiped the slush off his goggles, and James took a moment to clear his own vision before pulling the goggles up to his forehead to get a better field of view. ¡°Nice place.¡± Alanna said, sliding her mask down to take a breath of the air here. ¡°So, how¡¯re we doing so far?¡± James took stock. ¡°Well, no monsters.¡± He commented. ¡°Yet. I think we¡¯ve gone, like, three hundred feet? I¡¯m not tired. Is anyone tired?¡± ¡°I¡¯m tired!¡± Nikhail exclaimed. ¡°But not tired enough to stop.¡± ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve had a workout.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡°And I think we¡¯ll keep getting more of one. Behold.¡± He pointed behind them, and they all turned. Arrush, who had been rotating one of his legs to try to stretch it out, stepped back as he saw what Anesh had indicated. The wind was getting closer. Just to make sure he wasn¡¯t seeing things, James grabbed a couple nearby bits of rock on top of the snow, walked back through the trail they¡¯d forged, and set them one after the other on the ground in plain sight. Then he turned and walked back, the others following him to a distance from the wind wall to watch. Sure enough, after about a minute, the wind had passed the first rock, the dark sheet beyond which there was a howling gale and falling ice either moving or growing to get closer to them. A minute later and it took the next one. ¡°That¡¯s about a foot a minute.¡± James said into the quiet of their newly discovered area. ¡°Anyone want to bet on if this just keeps going?¡± ¡°Okay. That¡¯s bad.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°So, we keep moving? If we make good time, we can stay ahead of it. We go *way* faster than a foot a minute. We can buy enough time to rest farther up.¡± ¡°Good plan. Anyone need to take a break? Nik? Arrush? You two okay?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Nik waved him off, despite leaning over on his knees and breathing heavily. The ratroach just nodded still watching the wind wall. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s keep going. Looks like there¡¯s gonna be a problem in about five minutes, and I really don¡¯t want to face it in high winds.¡± The problem James was talking about was the next part of their climb. Ahead of them, suddenly spiking to a steep angle, the hill rose up and, while they could see where it started to level off again, it was well after the trees started to get thicker. If they wanted to, they could circle around the base of this rise. But there was a visible drop over on the right, and to the left they¡¯d need to navigate a pair of boulders so large they were miniature mountains of their own. Not impossible, but clearly designed to lead them up this one particular path. But that was fine. They needed to know what they were facing, and walking into a trap prepared was often the best way to disarm it. With every step up the incline, James could feel the cold getting a little sharper. It still wasn¡¯t *nearly* as bad as it would have been if the wind was screaming at them. But bit by bit, degree by degree, the challenge was increasing. And they weren¡¯t even as far in as Momo and the others had gotten. They stopped before the first tree. Waiting for everyone to catch up, and catch their breath. James turned to look behind them, at the distance they¡¯d covered so far, and got a mild sense of vertigo looking down at the snow below. It just stretched on, and on, and on. In his hometown, where he¡¯d grown up, James knew of a super tall hill near his family¡¯s house that he¡¯d liked to climb up as a kid. From the top of that hill, he could see the lights of the city below, and even knowing as an adult that he was only seeing a thin sliver of the whole thing, it still filled him with a sense of greater perspective and scale. So far in the last hour of trudging through the snow, they¡¯d cleared a height of at barely twice that hill. And looking down, he felt less like he had a grand perspective, and more like this was harder than it should have been. ¡°Alright. Keep an eye on the trees.¡± James said, turning away from the path they¡¯d cut. ¡°The ones the first team fought had things drop out of the upper branches, but I don¡¯t want to trust that there aren¡¯t a dozen different tree-based hazards.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go first. Draw anything out.¡± Alanna commented. ¡°Just don¡¯t let anything eat me, alright?¡± James tried to think of a joke, but he was too focused on the task at hand, so he just offered a nod and smile instead. The group formed up into a wedge, following Alanna as she stepped up and past the first tree. There was a *twang* that cut through the air like a musical note, and then a rush of motion and a slapping sound as something whipped around from behind one of the trees and nailed Alanna so hard it carried her off her feet and four trees deep into the small grove off to the right. And then, the trap springing as their cue, a score of points of motion shifted overhead. Long brown multijointed limbs, centered around no particular body, just more limbs, unfolded from their camouflaged spots in the tops of the otherwise bare trees. They didn¡¯t have faces, didn¡¯t have anything except their limbs and hands with fingers like splinters. But all five of them fell into the snow with practiced ease, and kicked up plumes of white as they started rushing the delvers who were still standing. James unhooked his hatchet, pulling it up to a solid grip and thanking the foresight of whoever had suggested using the tactile feedback pen on their gloves. With his other hand, he slapped Alex¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Cover fire!¡± He yelled, stepping forward shoulder to shoulder with Anesh and trusting the girl to make use of the two of them as a front line. He didn¡¯t even know where Nik and Arrush were, and with the stick things closing in, didn¡¯t have time to check. The first one closed the gap, jetting ahead of the others. It looked almost like they were *swimming* through the snow. But when it put on its final burst of speed and lunged through the air, James timed the trajectory of it¡¯s jump, pulled on his enhanced agility, and slammed the hatchet¡¯s edge into one of the joints between two of the branches reaching for him. It bled a thin green sap, painting the snow and turning the spot it landed into a slushy mess as it thrashed around blindly. James didn¡¯t know if it was out of the fight, but it had lost a lot of forward momentum, and that counted when it came down to the seconds that mattered in a fight like this. Behind him, off to the left, gunfire popped off as Alex took somewhat imprecise shots at the rest of the pack. At least one scored a hit, but there was no time to celebrate, because then the others were on them. James ducked the one that came at him head on, but the second ignored Anesh hacking at it¡¯s side and scoring a glancing blow, and instead hit the snow between them and pivoted to try to sink its claws into James¡¯ leg. It didn¡¯t penetrate, but it *did* get a good grip, and yanked with more strength than its mass should have allowed, sending him sprawling to his back with an oof as the air left his lungs and he breathlessly gasped. More gunfire, and a splatter of green, but Alex wasn¡¯t a marksman, and she was firing too high to try to avoid hitting James. Which, to be fair, he would *appreciate*, but when the last one of the things fell on him he didn¡¯t much care if she took some risky shots. He grabbed the branch thrust at his face, and twisted it around his arm in an attempt to break it, but the wood flexed and held, pulling like wet clay. With his off hand, he snagged a loose grip on his axe, and started hacking with as much force as he could muster, planting lines of bleeding green on the sides of whatever branch he could reach as the rest of the creature scrambled to cut through his coat and armor until the hatchet stuck and he lost his grasp on it. Then, James remembered what was *on* his left hand, and he mentally tapped the command to his glove to [Break Wood], lashed out with a closed fist, and was satisfied when a fracture split the creature down the middle with a resounding *crack*. Then Anesh sank his own axe into the back of the stick thing¡¯s biggest central branch, the closest thing it had to a body, and it twitched just a few more times before falling onto James limply. He shoved it off himself, finding it dramatically lighter than it had felt a second ago, and staggered to his feet. The stick figure on James was the last one to fall, and Nik was already helping Alanna to her feet from where the clothesline strike of the trap had utterly failed to kill or maim her. ¡°Everyone good?¡± James¡¯ voice sounded strange in the crisp air but muffled slightly by the snow, even the flattened area around where he¡¯d just been wrestling with a tree monster. Anesh chimed in almost automatically, dozens of dungeon excursions with James having prepared him for the moment after a fight. Shortly after that, Alanna gave a groan of assent and a thumbs up, followed by a yelled ¡®yeah¡¯ from Nik. Arrush didn¡¯t say anything, but hadn¡¯t actually participated in the skirmish, so was mostly okay. But the Ratroach did step forward, leaning down to peer at James with his misaligned compound eyes. Then he raised a hand, gloved finger poking out to tap James¡¯ cheek. James winced and flinched back. ¡°Ow!¡± He yelped. ¡°Wait, ow. Shit, I think that thing cut me.¡± ¡°James.¡± Anesh said, stripping gloves back to tilt James¡¯ face toward him. ¡°This isn¡¯t good.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been cut before, it¡¯s fine. Known issue with this kind of job.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a medkit, it¡¯ll keep until we get¡­¡± He trailed off, raising a finger to tap at his face, initially enjoying the tactile sensation radiating through the glove and into his fingertip, but then flinching in pained concern. ¡°What the fuck?¡± He muttered. ¡°What¡¯s¡­ ow? What?¡± There was confusion in his voice, because the feeling of the injury on his face wasn¡¯t one of a wet cut, or dripping blood. But of rough wood, etched in a line down his cheek. ¡°Everyone back from the sticks!¡± Anesh called, ignoring his own call as the others moved back, shuffling divots in the piling snow as the moved. He crouched down, and gently shifted one of the dead creatures sideways, moving one of its appendages to hold up the end. Long stick-like claws that glistened in the dim grey light, slowly frosting over as the thick flakes dropped onto them. Anesh held it up to eye level, and carefully pulled some extra perception from Alanna. There it was. A single drop of a thick green fluid, right on the end of the claw, channeled through a thin furrow of a tube. Venom. ¡°Alright, good news.¡± James reported. ¡°It¡¯s not spreading. Bad news, I may be part ent now.¡± He was itching at the mark on his face, where a line of bark had grown out of the line that had been cut down his face. ¡°Okay. So. Anesh, are we good?¡± ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re all down, and if it¡¯s not spreading, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything else we can do for you right now.¡± He sighed, breath steaming in the air before being whipped away by the frozen breeze. ¡°We¡¯ll have you checked out when we get back. Fortunately, it doesn¡¯t look like too much of your flesh is converted, so you should be able to get it¡­ cut out¡­ ugh.¡± ¡°Wow, gross.¡± Alanna groaned as she moved in to huddle up with them. ¡°Alright, everyone come on in.¡± The three newer delvers shuffled to join them as she waved them in, leaving the group standing in a loose circle. ¡°So. What went wrong there?¡± Alex looked down at the ground. ¡°I¡­ panicked.¡± She said, almost tripping over herself to speak. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what to do! I didn¡¯t want to hit James, so I just shot into the crowd, and didn¡¯t do anything!¡± ¡°Also Alanna stepped on a trap.¡± James pointed out. ¡°Was there any sign of that?¡± He asked his partner. ¡°None. The wire was in the snow. I have no fuckin¡¯ idea how we¡¯re supposed to find those.¡± ¡°Long stick?¡± Nik asked. ¡°We didn¡¯t bring a standard issue ten foot pole!¡± James slapped his forehead. ¡°I regret this every time!¡± His excited words muffled by the white drift around them. Anesh, in a reply, simply turned and slowly pointed at the pile of dead stick creatures. ¡°They don¡¯t count, Anesh, they¡¯re full of venom that *apparently turns you into wood*.¡± He sighed. ¡°Anyway. Alex, you did fine. We didn¡¯t have time to set up a firing solution, so shooting to prioritize not hitting us was a good idea. Also, Nik, good job going for Alanna.¡± He looked around. ¡°Not bad for a first fight. We¡¯ll improve.¡± ¡°Not bad?¡± Alex had a wide eyed look. ¡°There were ten of them, and they almost killed us! How did Chevoy get everyone out of here alive!?¡± ¡°They had a camraconda.¡± Anesh reminded her. ¡°Why didn¡¯t *we* bring a camraconda!¡± James shook his head. ¡°Because we plan to go up past where a snake could safely climb. We already kind of have. Morgan carried Color-Of-Dawn out of here. Which¡­ yikes. Impressive as all hell, but not something I wanna do.¡± He took a deep breath, pulling his mask back up and wincing as it caught on the new tender bark skin of his face. ¡°Alright. Anything else before we move on?¡± ¡°I did nothing.¡± A harsh rasp of a voice cut through the snowy slope. Arrush had spoken up, still hanging back from the group slightly. If James didn¡¯t know better, he¡¯d think the ratroach looked guilty. Or at least, expecting punishment in some way. And James did know better. It didn¡¯t take the subtle gesture from Alanna to let him know what Arrush was feeling. ¡°Yeah.¡± James shrugged. ¡°We didn¡¯t have a specific spot for you. We need to get better. Got a role you think you can fill?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know?¡± Arrush rasped, switching without thinking about it to Spanish. ¡°I could¡­ go first. Find traps.¡± He sounded uncertain. ¡°I¡¯m better suited for that.¡± Alanna answered. ¡°Look, not a scratch.¡± She slapped the front of her armor. ¡°How ¡®bout flanks? Hold back, take care of anything that jumps anyone.¡± The suggestion was latched onto like a liferaft. Arrush nodding nervously, the antenna wrapped in thermal cloth bobbing in the wind as he did so. ¡°Hokay. Now what?¡± ¡°Well, they didn¡¯t drop anything.¡± James said. ¡°Which we kinda new. Any kill notifications or something?¡± Head shakes all around. James took a second to take a close look at the two who were least experienced with surviving dungeon fights, noting the slight shaking from adrenaline wearing off. Internally, he suppressed a wince; this wasn¡¯t the place to stand still, but they¡¯d need to take a break soon. So he did what he could, and motivated them to press on. ¡°Then I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s time for *more walking*. Everyone say thank you to your boots.¡± He grinned, turning to incline his head and look toward the ridge past the grove of trees where the ground leveled out a bit more. ¡°Further up.¡± James started walking, taking point this time next to Alanna, between five and ten feet to her left. The two of them cutting trails in the snow for the others to follow, his leg muscles definitely feeling the exertion, but not starting to sting or ache yet as he turned his armored self into a makeshift trailblazer. If he¡¯d been sucked in here, unprepared, James didn¡¯t know if he could have survived. As he walked, he looked to the side, to where the slope was cut up with ridges like a series of steps, thick brown dirt and chunks of muddy stone jutting out of the white snow, splotches on the otherwise pristine landscape. There were only a couple scattered trees that way, if they¡¯d climbed that side instead of taking the smoother slope, maybe they wouldn¡¯t have to deal with the sticks, but he didn¡¯t fancy trying to get in a fight with something while also contending with the bad footing of standing on a sharp ridge. It wasn¡¯t just the terrain that made him pessimistic. It was the cold. The cold wasn¡¯t exactly hitting James too hard. He was insulated by methods both mundane and magic. But just because he wasn¡¯t rapidly plunging into frostbite didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t feel it. Around the edges of his goggles and mask, where the wetsuit ended on his neck, the cold snuck in. Nothing too bad, just a creeping chill that was almost welcome, almost refreshing, compared to the heavy warmth of his gear. But it wasn¡¯t getting any warmer. When that first casual scouting party had been pulled in here, Chevoy had been in khakis. Morgan and Liz had been in *shorts*. Color-Of-Dawn hadn¡¯t even been wearing anything at all, and camracondas *did* feel the cold. James was pretty sure he¡¯d be dead by now if he¡¯d been in shorts. He didn¡¯t waste too much time musing on that. Instead, he kept alert, kept his eyes on the landscape ahead. They couldn¡¯t spot tripwires, sure, but as the trees thinned out that was less of an issue, and James became more concerned that they were going to run into the snow golems Momo had described. Another set of steps, and the trees faded away entirely, except one or two near the scattered boulders. The slope was starting to steady out, and they were nearing what had looked like the top half an hour ago, but now just looked like more hill. Pulling in a heavy breath, James paused to look behind them. They weren¡¯t high enough up yet, and probably never would be, to see over the stormy clouds that formed a curtain behind them. But from here, James could see a massive edge that plummeted to nothing, curling out from behind either side of the slowly advancing storm. A canyon so deep and intimidating that it gave him vertigo even from miles away. While he watched their backs as the others kept moving up toward him, gradually closing the gap between their line, he swept his vision around, making sure anything that was moving wasn¡¯t doing it toward them. And then, paused. To their left, where the step-like ridges had long ago dropped away to form a small valley that hemmed in their options if they needed to run, there was another path. Or, not exactly a path, but a point that James¡¯ brain locked onto and hurt to look at. ¡°Yo.¡± He elbowed Alanna, who was performing a similar sweep on the other side. ¡°What¡¯s that look like to you?¡± James asked as he pointed. Alanna turned and stared, the motions noticed by the four others approaching, who also glanced that direction. When she spoke, even muffled by the face covering, it sounded annoyed. ¡°Like two places at once.¡± She gave an irritated huff. ¡°Part of it goes off a cliff, part of it¡¯s a path down.¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s a path up, but yeah.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Gotta watch out for those, I guess!¡± He declared. ¡°We¡¯re almost over the top. Let¡¯s start looking for a good place to set up camp and take a break.¡± ¡°How far up do you think we are?¡± Alanna mused. ¡°Farther than they got, right?¡± ¡°Probably. I don¡¯t really recognize anything from how Momo described it, but that¡¯s sort of the problem with places like this. Hard to describe sometimes. But I think, unless it shifted, that the place they stopped would have been at the base of this particular hill.¡± James shifted his backpack around, trying to get the strap to dig into an itch on his shoulder. ¡°But we don¡¯t know how this place passes out rewards. And¡­¡± ¡°And we¡¯re stopping so we can have a base to explore from, yes, thank you.¡± Anesh walked past, panting as he trudged through the lanes in the snow but not stopping as he hit fresh powder and kept going. ¡°If I stop moving, I¡¯m not getting up for an hour, so let¡¯s go!¡± Their boyfriend kept going, taking the lead. A sheepish looking Alex slid by them. ¡°Should he be yelling in here?¡± She asked, pausing only briefly to talk before moving to catch up to Anesh. ¡°Not even a little.¡± James said. And yet. It was easy to let his guard down here. So far, this whole dungeon had felt¡­ almost normal? Oh, sure, there were venomous literal woodland creatures. And the bottomless cliffs. And the storm that was slowly chasing them. That was all neat and weird, sure. But the landscape looked too much like what he remembered from ski trips to Mt. Hood as a kid with his family. So far, the most injury Winter¡¯s Climb had managed to inflict on him was the mental pain of remembering spending time with his dad learning to snowboard, and then remembering that his dad didn¡¯t remember he existed. The cold and wet couldn¡¯t get to him for now, the view was spectacular, and while the whole place looked bigger than it should have, it didn¡¯t feel too different from just going out to a random spot in the Oregon wilderness in mid winter. Then he took that last step up over the lip of the slope, onto relatively flat ground next to where Anesh and Alex had stopped dead, and changed his mind. In front of them, stretching for hundreds of feet, was a lake. Sort of. It looked like what would happen if you dropped a rock into a pond. Cracked waves like a wall around the outside, a spire rising up in the middle, a single teardrop of liquid flying up into the air. Except, it wasn¡¯t water; it was ice. The entire lake, or at least, the parts that were in the process of splashing up into midair, were all frozen solid. The lake itself *was* mostly liquid, though it had heavy chunks of ice floating in it. Wetsuit or not, James had no intention of going anywhere near that. There were cattails around the edge. A few frosted over thorny vines. It looked beautiful, even if the drop of ice hovering in midair was defying physics and flashing at them in a strange and persistent pattern of refracted light. Beyond the lake, a three story tall edifice of grey rock sat, cutting off any further easy progress upward. It stretched right into a scattering of trees that rapidly became something James would call a forest, and right a half mile or so before it disappeared into another blackened curtain of moving storm. Above that cliff, James could just make out another rising wall of stone, waiting just beyond a platteau. ¡°Is that crystal thing trying to hypnotize us?¡± Alex asked, confused, pointing up at the center of the lake¡¯s frozen impact site. ¡°Oh, probably.¡± James said, craning his neck and staring up at the glittering ice crystal. Something told him he should go touch it. But the thought was instantly noticeable as alien and intrusive. ¡°Yeah, I think so. I can sort of feel it. Either it¡¯s not very good at it, or we should keep our goggles on and not look too closely at it.¡± ¡°Cliff looks like a good place to set up camp.¡± Alanna said. ¡°There¡¯s an overhang, almost a cave over there.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. Not too fast though; skirt the lake, keep an eye out. We still haven¡¯t seen any of those snow things.¡± Nothing lunged at them out of the muddy bank of the frozen lake, nor did any parts of the ice try to kill them beyond the ongoing mild hypnosis effect, which did actually stop as soon as they turned away from it. Which was still a *problem*, because they did need someone watching the lake, and then someone watching that person, just in case. But it wasn¡¯t more than another half hour of careful movement that they had made it to a spot that was dry, and sheltered from the worst of the wind whistling across the ice and exposed rock. A fire, composed out of wood transported in a duplicate wallet of holding, crackling in the center of the little rocky overhang. ¡°Not bad for the first half day.¡± James mused to himself, looking out at the rising icy walls around the lake, still keeping watch for anything hostile. They¡¯d take a break here, before they got back to work. ¡®Tonight¡¯, if it even got night here, they¡¯d rotate guard shifts while they slept in turn. Then tomorrow, more climbing, more exploration. For the rest of today, though? Once everyone was feeling better, it was time to start poking around what they¡¯d found so far. Were there secrets under the snow? Was there fruit on those vines by the lake? Some kind of natural resource within easy reach? They were here to explore. And for once, they¡¯d come in the first time prepared to actually catalogue what they found. James couldn¡¯t wait to see what was out there. Chapter 171 ¡°I¡¯ve been playing at // I¡¯ve been playing at self worth again // ain¡¯t it nice to play pretend?¡± - The Seattle Garages, Needs Of The Many - _____ James cautiously tested the mound of snow in front of them with a pole, eyeing the pile with suspicious thoughts. So far, this area around the lake had been empty of anything hostile, or even moving aside from them. But there was always time for a mobile snow bank to take a shot at him, and so, he poked first and investigated second. ¡°Seems okay.¡± He spoke in a voice muffled by his face covering to Arrush, who had come with him on this short scavenging trip. The others were back at their little rest spot, though Alanna and Alex had already taken a turn to do a sweep along the cliff wall that they¡¯d stopped against. None of them were venturing out too far, so backup was always within easy reach if they needed it, but they were also taking a chance to rest. After all, they¡¯d covered several uphill miles so far over the hours they¡¯d been in-and-or-on the mountainous dungeon. Arrush didn¡¯t reply to James with words, just gave a rattling hiss and moved forward, the boots Sarah had refitted for him crunching against the powdery snow. The ratroach would move forward, then sweep his gaze around, before signaling it was okay and letting James make the same leapfrog motion as well. Both of them were trying to do this without looking too closely at the ice crystal hovering suspended above the shattered frozen lake. So far, they¡¯d found nothing, and they¡¯d probably been at this for almost an hour. James was prepared to call it, and go sit for a bit before they started trying to climb again. Though there wasn¡¯t really anything around here to hide secrets that they wanted to approach too closely. They could have checked out the lake shore, or tried to wedge deeper into one of the small cracks in the rock of the cliff edge. But that seemed pointlessly risky. Instead, James was mostly just trying to stay alert for dungeon nonsense while focusing as little as possible on how the cold was starting to creep in and he was pretty sure that there was snow inside his boot making it squish when he walked. The drysuit made it not a huge problem, but I t was *annoying*. So instead, James took the chance to try to start up some conversation. ¡°You doing okay?¡± He asked the ratroach he¡¯d come out scavenging with. Arrush didn¡¯t look over at him, instead keeping his head moving like a sentry turret, sweeping the empty landscape. ¡°Fine.¡± The big creature rumbled. ¡°Okay. I just ask, because I worry, you know?¡± James said, shrugging. ¡°We haven¡¯t talked much. And since we¡¯re mostly finding ice and dirt, I figured I¡¯d see how you were doing.¡± ¡°Cold.¡± The ratroach said. ¡°Colder than ever been. And it smells like where I am from. Like home.¡± James grimaced. ¡°I know it¡¯s not really my place to say this, but you don¡¯t have to call the Sewer home, you know? Home isn¡¯t¡­ I mean, people might use the word differently sometimes, but to us? Home isn¡¯t where you¡¯re from. It¡¯s where you go back to.¡± ¡°Then where I came from. My origin.¡± Arrush corrected with the closest thing the ratroach had to a neutral voice. He still didn¡¯t look at James. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m¡­ bad at this.¡± James sighed, and pulled his face cover down to wipe at his mouth and nose. ¡°We haven¡¯t really talked much, and I understand if you don¡¯t want to. I think we¡¯ve tried to stab each other more than we¡¯ve tried to have a conversation. So I guess I don¡¯t know what to say. Do I ask you how you¡¯re enjoying being back in a dungeon? That seems kinda shitty. Do I ask you how your partner¡¯s doing? Are we that close?¡± Arrush was halfway through a lunge for James¡¯ throat before James noticed he was moving, and had frozen before James jerked back. One of his left hands was outstretched, the extra joint in the elbow unfolding, claws trying to stab through the glove he was wearing from the inside. Arrush¡¯s face, even with nonhuman eyes and a covered muzzle, betrayed a riot of conflicting emotion, starting with anger and fear, and ending with shame. Wordlessly, he closed his hand, and pulled back, shifting to face away, shoulders slumping so far that he lost a half foot of height. ¡°I¡­ sorry.¡± He rasped out. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°What the fuck?¡± James whispered. He¡¯d been startled, but far from being truly afraid, concern took over, and he stepped after Arrush, raising a hand but not quite feeling confident in setting it on the ratroach¡¯s shoulder. ¡°What was that?¡± He asked, voice steady. ¡°Failure.¡± Arrush growled. ¡°Again.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s not an explanation.¡± James pushed. ¡°I don¡¯t need all your secrets, but¡­ I¡¯d like you to be able to tell me what¡¯s going on. We¡¯re going to be in more danger as we go up, and this seems like something that shouldn¡¯t fester.¡± Arrush started to say something, but the edge of one of his jutting fangs caught on the balaclava he was wearing. With angry, frustrated motions that probably took more energy than was needed, he swiped a trio of hands over his face, ripping off the covering and balling it up in an angry fist. ¡°Bad memories.¡± He said to James, voice clearer now. ¡°A bad¡­ life.¡± The ratroach heaved a breath. ¡°You don¡¯t care. About Keeka. You don¡¯t¡­ understand what that means.¡± His words were still staggered despite the language knowledge, and he had to pant for breath to talk at length, but it was important enough to keep going. ¡°Below? If someone knew? Would kill him¡­ to hurt me. Or tell the Beautiful One, to hurt us both. A weakness. To exploit. Anything to crawl over the corpses.¡± He snarled. ¡°I *forget* you are different. And am sorry.¡± ¡°Okay. No worries.¡± James said quietly. He stepped back, and sighed. ¡°I forget that you¡¯re not¡­ I dunno, socialized? That sounds stupid and colonialist, but whatever. You¡¯re not used to us.¡± He shrugged as Arrush turned to him. ¡°Things will get better. I mean, *people* suck sometimes, I¡¯m not gonna lie. But at least in the Order, we¡¯re not about the corpse-ladder thing. We pull each other up. And that means you too, if you want to be with us.¡± Arrush stared at James¡¯ face for a minute, wiping away the blue acidic drool that spilled from the corner of his muzzle. ¡°I¡­ do. We do. Keeka is doing well.¡± He answered the earlier question. ¡°Good! Now, let¡¯s get back an- *AWK*¡± James¡¯ words turned into a yelp as his foot snagged on something under the snow and he tumbled forward to slam into the ground. The impact was lessened by the snow, but his knees still stung. Unsure of what was going on, he thrashed his feet, trying to kick off whatever was on him. A second later, Arrush was at his side, grabbing him and hauling upward, shocking James with the casual strength the ratroach displayed. Most of his species, in James'' experience, were¡­ not ¡®weak¡¯, really, but somewhat fragile. Either way, he was pulled out of the snow with a wet snap as his boot tugged through something. Arrush set him off to the side, while James brushed snow out of his coat, the two of them shuffling away from the spot that was now a human-sized crater in the snow. ¡°Ow.¡± He wheezed. ¡°And thanks.¡± ¡°We lift each other up.¡± Arrush said simply. James snorted a laugh as the tension left him. ¡°Okay, that was stupid. What got me?¡± He asked. Nothing moved as they watched the spot. Eventually, James caught Arrush¡¯s eye, and gave a small nod, moving forward in a low crouch while his scavenging partner watched his back. When he got to where the snow had been packed down from his impact and all the stepping around he and Arrush had done, the culprit was a bit obvious. ¡°It¡¯s a vine!¡± James called back. ¡°Looks like a blackberry, actually.¡± He told Arrush, who had no context for what that meant, as he approached. The two ends of the plant poked out of the ground from where the natural snare had grabbed around James¡¯ boot. It looked *a little* like a blackberry, but James couldn¡¯t ignore the skill orb knowledge in the back of his head that was shaming him for not recognizing that the thorns were too long, and there was what looked like some kind of pale blue veins of liquid running through the middle. That sap, whatever it was, was now dripping out onto the ground. James knelt down, looking for a closer peek. He watched a drop of the blue fluid touch the ground, and instantly puff out into a small pile of¡­ fresh snow? ¡°Is this some kind of¡­ coolant?¡± He looked up, perplexed. ¡°It¡¯s making more snow.¡± He told Arrush. ¡°Something had... to make the snow.¡± The ratroach rasped back. ¡°...Okay, I¡¯m not¡­¡± James pinched the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I need to explain snow to you, or if you¡¯re making a joke. But also I guess this is a dungeon, so something *did* have to make the snow.¡± He sighed, and stood, dusting more snow off his knees. ¡°Do you see.. hmm¡­ there.¡± He turned and followed the rough direction the vine stretched with his eyes, pointing out a patch of raised snow to Arrush. ¡°Want to see if there¡¯s fruit on that?¡± He asked. The ratroach shook his head, but James just questioned his spirit of adventure, and shortly they found themselves having cleared some of the covering white powder off of what turned out to be a several meter diameter patch of thorny vines and cool blue leaves. It was actually colder here, near this plant, than anywhere they¡¯d been so far, and it was as James was picking a handful of translucent blue berries off a vine that he realized they were sapping the heat out of his hand right through the glove. They didn¡¯t linger long, but did grab a small bag full of the fruit before James admitted they probably weren¡¯t going to uncover any magical powers aside from the ingredients to the easiest smoothie ever. As the two of them headed back to the camp to rest before the group moved on, he realized he hadn¡¯t asked Arrush the actual important question. ¡°Hey, what did you mean when you said this place smelled like your birthplace?¡± Arrush shook his head. ¡°Not this place. The smell is¡­ here. Not from here.¡± James raised an eyebrow and made a ¡®please elaborate¡¯ gesture. ¡°It is Nikhail. He smells¡­ wrong.¡± ¡°That¡¯s *worrying*. Why didn¡¯t you¡­ oh, because you didn¡¯t know if speaking up would get you hurt, yeah, okay, I get that.¡± James sighed. ¡°Okay. Okay, that¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m gonna talk to him when we get back then. Is it because he has a Lesson? No, that doesn¡¯t make sense. I¡¯ve got one and I¡­ wait, do *I* smell?¡± He was suddenly self conscious. ¡°You have to tell me if I smell.¡± ¡°You? Smell like¡­ books. And quiet fear. And some chemicals.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s my deodorant. Okay. I¡¯m fine then.¡± James sighed. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get back. My legs are starting to hurt from high stepping to avoid vines.¡± _____ ¡°It¡¯s cute that James gets these bonding moments with people.¡± Alanna commented with a small amount of snark as she and Anesh watched Arrush haul James out of the snow a couple hundred meters away. The two of them let the tension drain as they saw James was okay, and that his swearing at the ground wasn¡¯t active combat they needed to come intervene in. ¡°Hey, quick question though, while he¡¯s gone. Are both the ratroaches named Arrush? Is that a species name, and I didn¡¯t notice?¡± Anesh let out a slow breath, glancing away from watching the steam dance in the chill air to raise eyebrows at Alanna. ¡°What? No, this is Arrush. The other one is¡­ uh¡­ not¡­ Arrush. He has a name, though. Why do you ask?¡± ¡°I mean, if this is the same guy, isn¡¯t he missing arms?¡± Alanna said. Then, with considerably more worry in her voice, ¡°Wait, *is* he missing arms? Did something happen? They¡¯re staying in Townton, is this JP¡¯s fault? I¡¯ll break his arms if he let something happen to our precious new kids.¡± ¡°First off, pump the brakes a bit.¡± Anesh told her, lightly leaning against the cold stone outcrop. Behind them, a small fire was dying out, the smell of wood smoke seeping into the fur of his coat. ¡°You know, you can just ask him these things, right? But yeh, it¡¯s not JP¡¯s fault for once. Arrush¡¯s other two arms are¡­ eh¡­ not quite vestigial? Or at least, they¡¯re not super useful. So Sarah put pockets inside his suit that he can slip them into. Probably more comfortable, certainly safer.¡± ¡°That¡¯s gonna make the armor awkward, huh?¡± Alanna hummed. ¡°Wait, did Sarah¡¯s refit power work on armor? I thought she said it was clothing only.¡± ¡°It is. He¡¯s not wearing armor.¡± Alanna¡¯s mouth puckered like she¡¯d just taken a bite of the angriest lemon. ¡°¡®Scuse me? The fuck? That¡¯s not okay!¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think they have the best outlook on self preservation.¡± He admitted. ¡°Also, they¡¯re heading back. You wanna gather up the-¡° He stopped, interrupted by a small tug in the back of his mind. He could leave if he wanted to. The fire called to him. Sung a song of freedom, escape. All he had to do was take it, and he could leave. Next to him, Alanna whipped her head around to stare at their camp fire, and he saw Nik and Alex perking up too, Nik looking up from the journal he was writing in, Alex¡¯s eyes snapping open from where she was trying to pretend she was cool by napping in a dungeon. Anesh shook his head, and pushed it away. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Mark time.¡± Anesh checked the timer on the copied smartphone he¡¯d brought. ¡°Five hours eighteen minutes in the dungeon. Alanna?¡± ¡°Exactly one hour at camp. Wait, but Alex and I left for a bit. So¡­?¡± James and Arrush took that moment to step back into the covered space, the shelter from the light wind welcome. ¡°Hey. What¡¯re you all up to?¡± He asked. ¡°Did you get the exit prompt?¡± Anesh asked him. ¡°Nope. Did you?¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Okay. We all did, but not you. So. The one constant is the fire itself. That means if we do want to escape, we need to build a fire, keep it going, and be at it when the one hour mark ticks over. Nothing else matters?¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure something else matters.¡± Nik commented. ¡°But will it be enough to kill us?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± James admitted. ¡°Which is why we¡¯re big ol cheaters who brought telepads along.¡± He sighed. ¡°Okay. So. I¡¯m gonna sit for a bit, and then, cliff things?¡± ¡°Yeah. Farther up! We¡¯ve only had one thing try to kill us so far, and I¡¯m kinda disappointed!¡± Alanna announced, drawing a wince from her boyfriends. ¡°I wanna have a fight, you guys! Come on, don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t!¡± James opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and shook his head. He kind of got where she was coming from, but also¡­ he didn¡¯t really want a fight? He mostly just felt like poking around and seeing what secrets this place had. But if it was gonna try to kill him, he wasn¡¯t going to just say no. ¡°Well. Our girlfriend¡¯s bloodlust aside, do we have any details for the plan?¡± Anesh asked. James shrugged, settling to a dry spot on the floor. Protective gear or not, he still didn¡¯t need to be any damper than he already was. ¡°I didn¡¯t see any particularly good spots for the climb. Did you two?¡± He asked Alex and Alanna. It was Alex who answered as she rose to a kneeling position, unzipping one of the large packs they¡¯d brought. ¡°There¡¯s a kind of¡­ I dunno what to call it, like a chunky part of the cliff? It¡¯s got little bits sticking out, that we could probably step on. We could try there?¡± She asked, pulling a set of pitons out of the pack. ¡°Alright. Everyone with an A-name, you wanna go get started on that? Nik and I will catch up in a minute.¡± James said, nodding at the group from his seated spot. ¡°We will?¡± Nikhail paused in shouldering his own pack. ¡°We will.¡± James said firmly, as the others started moving. In short order, they were packed up and had the needed tools out, with the fire left to smoulder and cast increasingly thin heat into the air. The group chattered lightly as they moved out, with Alanna boisterously trying to see if she could get Arrush to laugh as they headed the hundred feet or so to the part of the cliff that was the least problematic. And then James shifted to look at Nik, propping an elbow up on his knee and trying to relax while sitting on a freezing cold patch of rock. ¡°So hey.¡± James started. ¡°Did I¡­ do something wrong?¡± Nik asked. ¡°I thought things were going okay?¡± He sounded like he was that variety of nervous that James remembered being when he was called into an authority figure¡¯s office back in high school. James sighed. ¡°You¡¯re probably not in trouble, and the delve has been going fine. You need to work on not freezing up when something unexpected happens, but that¡¯s a matter of experience. Also not what we¡¯re talking about.¡± He shifted, trying in vain to get comfortable. ¡°Arrush says you smell like the Sewer.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kinda mean.¡± Nik¡¯s voice came out angry. ¡°And we¡¯ve been hiking! We¡¯re all probably sweaty and gross under the-!¡± ¡°Nik.¡± James cut him off with a hand held up. ¡°You smell like the *Sewer*.¡± James didn¡¯t look away as he saw Nikhail flinch. ¡°And you obviously know why. Can you just tell me?¡± There was a silence where James was pretty sure that Nik was deciding whether or not to just lie. But, to the kid¡¯s credit, he kept his mouth shut until he¡¯d decided. James could remember all too well the feeling of tripping over himself to make some bullshit up, when he could have just paused and then answered normally, and he was glad Nik didn¡¯t try that. The answer still unsettled him. ¡°The shaper substance.¡± Nik said quietly, turning to scuff his boots over to the edge of their little overhang, thumping his shoulder into the rock where the wind started to whip past his face. ¡°I¡¯ve been dosed with the shaper substance.¡± James had already started to nod, but then froze as he realized what Nik was saying. ¡°The¡­ highly radioactive fluid?¡± He asked, voice rising an octave. ¡°What? No. No! It¡¯s the other stuff. The goo you and Anesh brought out of the Sewer.¡± Nik grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s how the ratroaches remake themselves. It¡¯s how the two with us rebuilt their speech ability, with Deb¡¯s help. Deb and Reed have been trying to figure out a way to make it less painful, and we¡¯ve got a bunch of it from the samples you brought back.¡± James cut in, stopping Nik¡¯s erratic rambling. ¡°Okay, yeah, I know what you¡¯re talking about. Did you get exposed to it by accident during the¡­ oh, wow, you look *so guilty* holy shit.¡± James couldn¡¯t help himself. ¡°Does Reed have any idea about this?¡± ¡°No.¡± Came the meek reply. ¡°Did Deb¡¯s idea about reducing the pain get results?¡± James asked, a little annoyed. ¡°Not really.¡± Nik answered. ¡°I feel like I know the answer to this but *fucking why*?!¡± James snapped out the last two words, going from calm to irritated speech mid sentence. ¡°Why in the *world* would you think that was a good idea? *Especially* since you¡¯re wearing the last time you did something reckless and stupid as a glove?¡± James jabbed a finger at Aidimy, the nascent Authority wrapped around Nik¡¯s arm. It was the wrong thing to say, probably. And Nik instantly got defensive. ¡°I just wanted my own body!¡± He yelled back, voice cracking. ¡°Are you gonna be mad at me for not being cis now?!¡± He snapped at James. James took a minute to take a deep breath, pulled his goggles up to his forehead, pulled his gloves off, and slowly rubbed at his eyes. ¡°Oh my god.¡± He muttered. ¡°You absolute dumbass. I¡¯m so not mad about that, I literally almost forgot you were trans, I wasn¡¯t thinking about that at *all*. I¡¯m *mad* because you *spiked yourself with weird experimental dungeon serum* that *causes crippling pain*!¡± He was on his feet now, pacing back and forth by the remains of the fire in the tight confines of their shelter. ¡°What would have happened if something went wrong? Did you even *tell anyone*? You could have *died*! Again!¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t!¡± ¡°I know! It¡¯s really bad confirmation bias!¡± James said, and then huffed out something that was half laugh, half groan. ¡°You think this isn¡¯t something we were planning to do anyway?¡± He asked, voice suddenly soft. ¡°You think we¡¯d just¡­ leave you out like that? Alanna and I were talking about literally this thirty near-death experiences ago. The shaper substance is some of the most important magic we¡¯ve found. I¡¯m not mad that you want to change yourself, I¡¯m mad that you did it alone. I¡¯m¡­ not even mad.¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not mad, I just wish you¡¯d asked for help.¡± ¡°I was worried someone would say no.¡± Nik said quietly. ¡°Dude.¡± James snorted. ¡°Have you met us? I say yes to so many crazy ideas, it¡¯s a miracle I¡¯m still alive.¡± He shook his head, and stopped pacing. ¡°Okay. Everything is fine, assuming you¡¯re okay? Like, not in pain or anything?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°Nik.¡± James frowned. ¡°Nik, really?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡± Nikhail threw his hands up defensively. ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± ¡°I absolutely don¡¯t believe you.¡± He said. ¡°But. I¡¯m not gonna send you home *yet*. If anything changes, you¡¯re telepading out instantly, though, got it?¡± James waited for a sheepish nod before continuing. ¡°And when we get back, Deb and Lua are going to give you a barrage of tests to make sure you¡¯re stable. And I¡¯m *certain* Deb will have some words for you. Words like ¡®why¡¯ and ¡®the¡¯ and ¡®fuck¡¯. Probably in that order.¡± ¡°You really like saying things that way, don¡¯t you?¡± Nik asked, kicking idly at the snow. ¡°But yeah, okay. And¡­ thanks. And I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°People keep saying that to me today. You know, I came here to explore, not to dive headfirst into interpersonal drama.¡± James mock scowled. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go. Looks like Alanna¡¯s ten feet off the ground already, and I don¡¯t wanna be left behind.¡± He paused. ¡°Would you like a hug? I¡¯m trying to get better about this.¡± Nik paused. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ yes? Yeah, I would. But maybe when we aren¡¯t wearing forty pounds of gear?¡± ¡°Fair. Okay. Let¡¯s get moving.¡± _____ The others hadn¡¯t gone too far ahead. Alanna was just setting pitons into the stone, using a well balanced hammer and an inhuman amount of strength to drive the metal spikes into cracks in the rock. She was maybe three or four ¡®steps¡¯ up already, though the term step was kind of a misnomer. They were roughly triangular shapes with a surface that was just barely flat enough for someone to feel like they could set their for on it. Like someone had reached into the rock, and pulled chunks out on hidden hinges. And then ruined them for anyone who might want to try climbing up. And yet, it was still probably easier than scaling the cliff without the help. Cliff wasn¡¯t even the right term, really. It wasn¡¯t like the wall in front of them was forming a perfect ninety degree angle with the ground. It sloped back, if only barely. Enough that James figured he could have gotten up with a little determination and a lot of upper body strength. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. It wasn¡¯t even their only option to keep moving, really. They could have tried doubling back, or circling around - though the ridge did extend for at least a couple miles - or simply going a different direction. But those options didn¡¯t actually accomplish what they were here for. The only thing they knew about this dungeon and the magic it granted was this. The higher up you got, the better. Maybe there were more secrets to uncover, but this was what they had as a guiding focus. Farther up. And if they learned more along the way, so much the better. James went up last, waiting at the bottom and keeping an eye out for anything dangerous while everyone else went first. Alex had the hardest time, with a couple of close calls as her boots slipped on the icy rock, but ultimately the cliff wasn¡¯t impossible for people like them who were both augmented and in decent shape. For James, it was even easier. Once the first couple of them were at the top, Alanna threw down a rope, wrapped and tied off around a claw-like rock protrusion. And after securing it to his climbing harness, it took James half the time as it took the vanguard to make his way up. Probably with far less stress since he was in less danger of falling. Ideally, Alanna could have gone first alone, and then gotten the rest of them up easy, but there was no way of knowing if they were at risk of being ambushed from either side. So they moved in groups, and played it safe. When James brought up the rear and pulled himself over the edge of the ridge, it was with a sigh of relief as his aching fingers no longer had to maintain a tight grip. ¡°Hey, do you think the exercise potion works on sore fingers?¡± He asked, flexing his hands and trying to get blood flowing properly again. ¡°Maybe.¡± Anesh said, eyes closed as he tried to get a good look at where they were going through a skulljacked drone camera. ¡°But we have three more of these to go. So maybe we save them.¡± ¡°Super.¡± James grumbled. It was only about thirty feet to the next cliff. James went first this time, Alanna and Arrush behind him while the other three kept watch below. And it *was* more stressful, knowing he could fall. Cold wind whipped around his head, small specks of flying ice briefly flicking against his goggles as the occasional plume of the frozen crystals was kicked off the ledge above them by the wind. The wind was getting faster, and the temperature was getting lower. His heart nearly exploded in his chest when he grabbed a handhold, a small indentation in the rock, and the shadow inside *moved*. James assumed for a second he was seeing things, but then he felt the teeth clamp down on his fingers. And deflect, like his skin was made of iron. But he could *feel* how bad it was. Razor sharp fangs, like some kind of organic wood chipper, frantically gnawing his hand. On reflex, James jerked backward, swinging out and losing half his footing, barely hanging on with his other hand in a death grip. Flinging his right arm wide, he flicked his hand, and sent the small ball of shadows and teeth flying out into the open air. He didn¡¯t see where it landed, and he hoped the wind covered up the squeal he made when it surprised him. Below him, Alanna yelled a question over the wind. James, frantically trying not to fall, triggered the Status Quo glove on his left hand and dug his fingers into the rock he was tightly gripping, burning one of the charges to make a new, much easier handhold. The glove was still new, so that charge wouldn¡¯t come back for a couple days, but it felt worth it to pull himself back up. When he reached for the next handhold, he realized the glove on his right hand was just *gone* as bare fingers tried to close on frozen rock. He winced as the pain of the cold invaded his body down to the bone almost instantly, but he didn¡¯t let go. They had a backup glove, and twenty feet over the ground was no place to stop. He hauled himself up. Kept moving. James was entirely unsurprised when he pulled himself over the edge, and had to roll through the frozen shell of iced over snow to dodge a slamming strike from a pile of snow that was both not frozen, and *very mobile*. He was shocked, sure. Startled. But not actually *surprised*. Two beady onyx eyes of stone stared down at him from a rounded ¡®face¡¯. The whole creature, a different shade of white than the snow around it, was curves and sloped lines. Momo hadn¡¯t been kidding, it really was just a pile of snow that sometimes grew pillar-like arms and tried to punch you. Then the thing opened its mouth, like a seam splitting apart, and revealed a maw full of jagged obsidian chunks. James rolled sideways over his own backpack, kicked himself to his feet on the edge of the cliff, and awkwardly slammed his left hand into one of its eyes, firing off another glove charge and detonating the chunk of stone like a grenade. By the time Alanna pulled herself up after him, the snow monster¡¯s body had started to melt into liquid that James suspected was just water. And then started to freeze again, forming a lump of ice that he had to awkwardly circumvent with the rope for the followup group. Alanna kicked at it as she stood, shattering a chunk off and nearly slipping as it crumbled easily. ¡°You okay?¡± She asked him loudly. ¡°I heard you scream. Twice.¡± ¡°It¡¯s one of those days.¡± James yelled back over the rising wind, frozen fingers fumbling to make a decent knot. ¡°Can you grab me a backup glove from my pack?¡± He asked, turning to present his back to her while Arrush pulled himself up behind them. ¡°Arrush, keep an eye out. The mountain¡¯s trying to kill us now.¡± The ratroach nodded, and stepped past them to keep a lookout, casually drawing one of the blades strapped to his climbing harness and holding it in a casual side grip. ¡°What happened to your glove?¡± Alanna asked as she passed him one of the backups. James grinned as he took it from her, the tactile sensation transmitted through the circles he¡¯d drawn on all of these things with the weird Officium Mundi pen letting it feel like they¡¯d just brushed their hands together in truth. ¡°Oh, shadow thing ate it. Uh¡­ not me, though?¡± He held up his bare hand, turning it back and forth to check for marks as he stripped off the destroyed remains of the original glove. No damage, even though he *knew* he¡¯d felt deadly sharp teeth on his skin like knives. But it had left not so much as a nick. ¡°Maybe it just eats gloves?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°That¡¯s actually *really bad*.¡± James pointed out, fumbling his now-wet-and-frozen hand into the new glove and then pointing at his other hand, with one of the Status Quo gloves on it. ¡°Some of our gloves are worth *way* more than others.¡± They were going to have to keep a sharper eye out for those things lurking on cliffs in the future. If that was even their only environment. After a quick discussion, Alanna pulled one of their flares out of James¡¯ pack before resealing it just as the others made it to the top behind them. The next cliff passed without incident. The light of the flare scared the gear eaters away, their shadows flowing like liquid out of their holes as the team passed. The wind picked up. Everyone but Alanna downed exercise potions. They did work, easing the pain on sore ligaments and aching muscles. Arrush had to be prodded into taking one, the ratroach seeming standoffish at first, until James pressed him with questions. He¡¯d been trying to avoid showing weakness again, without thinking about it. James was zero percent interested in putting up with that today, though, when it could get one or more of them killed. The cold got worse. ¡°Hey, check this out!¡± Alex called as they began to prepare for the last cliff. She was holding up something that she¡¯d found wedged up against the rock. ¡°Guys!¡± James checked behind them. There was no grey mass bearing down on them like he¡¯d worried, no wall of clouds and wind. Instead there was just more snow falling, thicker and thicker black specks dotting the sky. The clear hours were fading, fast. But he had time to see what Alex had found. ¡°Whatcha got?¡± He yelled back. She started to run back to the group, but faltered, and then took much more determined and stable steps, which James appreciated. No risky movements here, not when they only had ten feet of clear space between them and a fall. And no wandering off alone anymore, not when there were hostile things afoot. Anesh was keeping up a drone watch every time they made it over an edge, and everyone was taking turns to stand watch. When Alex did make it back to where Alanna had started hammering a couple pitons into the rock, she held up something James absolutely wasn¡¯t expecting. ¡°I found this in that little nook over there!¡± She called over the wind. And handed James a hubcap. It was still covered in ice, though a large chunk had broken off when Alex had picked it up. James tapped it a few times, then applied pressure and broke away the frozen covering. The ice glittered as it fell to the ground in the fading grey light, but the hubcap didn¡¯t break. He turned it over a couple times. Metal, kinda heavy, with a little warping and a bunch of scratches. Like it had been in a crash, maybe? But¡­ why? ¡°What?¡± Anesh said incredulously as he alighted his drone on his outstretched hand and unplugged from it. ¡°Where the bloody hell did that come from?¡± ¡°I just found it.¡± Alex said. ¡°Do we¡­ what do we do?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we wanna be carrying this. Kinda heavy.¡± James looked around, at the last thirty feet of rock to climb, at the plumes of snow being kicked around their legs. ¡°Nah. This is weird, and I don¡¯t wanna realize two days from now that this would have been important. In my pack.¡± He turned, giving Alex access to his bag, pressing up against the cliff where the wind would be at least a little less horrible. A few seconds of fumbling with a zipper later, a weight was added to his burden, and James stood and readjusted. ¡°Okay. We ready to keep going?¡± ¡°We should build a railgun for this!¡± Alanna said, putting her weight on one of the pitons to test it. ¡°I¡¯ll consider it. Alright, get moving! We¡¯ll cover you!¡± He yelled back. ¡°Top¡¯s clear, but there¡¯s too much storm to see far!¡± Anesh added. ¡°We need to get to cover soon!¡± Alanna just nodded, and started climbing hand over hand, pulling herself up easily with her enhanced strength. Alanna had been well muscled before, and multiple types of magic had only made her even more physically impressive. But this was starting to get to the limits of what she could do; a climb requiring precise movements in the most hostile weather imaginable was a lot different than her preferred environment of a chaotic brawl. But she made it up anyway. The snow up here rose up in a great sweeping slope ahead of the cliff. Quickly getting so tall Alanna couldn¡¯t see past it; though the lack of a visible mountain behind it through the storm probably meant there was something at least approaching flat ground on the other side. The storm was picking up in earnest now, visibility dropping as the whirling snow and ice in the air made it feel more like being inside a snow globe than being outside. Finding no convenient rock to tie off their length of rope to, Alanna leaned over the edge to give Alex a hand up, the girl flinching slightly as her face swung past the flare wedged into one of the upper handholds. Hauling the younger girl up, Alanna crouched again, braced her feet on the most stable ground she could find under snow that came up to her knees, and hauled up Arrush as well. Then, needing to get the other three up here as fast as possible, she took the next logical path, and looped the rope around herself, clipping it to her harness before throwing it down. ¡°Hold this!¡± Alanna said, passing Arrush their end of it. ¡°And hold on!¡± She planted her feet again, jerking slightly in a trio of small movements as she felt James, and then Aneshs, and then Nik put their weight on the rope and start the process of ascending. Her arms strained, and she felt her boots crunch deeper into the packed snow, but between herself and the over-armed tank of a person behind her, it wasn¡¯t a challenge to hold on long enough for James and the others to surmount the edge. Alanna pulled the rope up after them, leaving it on her harness and holding it in a loose coil at her side. ¡°Storm¡¯s getting louder!¡± She called. James nodded. It was getting harder and harder to hear everyone else, and there was a sharp tapping sound that it took him a minute to realize was the increasingly icy snowfall rapping off the exposed plastic parts of their armor. ¡°Let¡¯s cover that hill!¡± He yelled, pointing. ¡°If we need to, we can burrow into it, but let¡¯s see if there¡¯s an easier option!¡± ¡°Alright! Everyone line up!¡± Alanna yelled, passing the rope to all of them to clip through their harnesses. With the ability to see farther than twenty feet starting to become a problem, no one wanted to be the one who took a slight pause and ended up missing. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°No!¡± Alex yelled back. ¡°Can we take a coffee break or something?¡± James was pretty sure she was joking, but he could feel the exposed parts of his skin starting to crystallize in the cold, and was uninterested in banter right now. ¡°Move out!¡± He called, and fell into the end of the line, with Alanna taking them forward. The snowy hill ate their boots, the loose white ground swallowing them up past the waist as they walked, forcing the group to trudge forward at an agonizing pace as they carved a trench behind them. For James, it was almost easy, following everyone¡¯s path so cleanly. Even though his feet were still sinking a foot into the ground with each step. He should have known better than to think that. In reality, it had been five minutes of pushing themselves forward, but in James¡¯ head, it felt like only a blink of a chilled eye between thinking ¡®this isn¡¯t too bad¡¯ and the snowy crunch of something heavy hitting the ground nearby. Then another crunch. The noise of wet snow smashed down to a hard packed form, the kind of sound you got when the first car took the risk and pulled out of a driveway on a snow day. Except sudden, and violent. The snow changed. James felt it as, mixed in with the thick flakes and icy rivets, heavy finger-thick shards of ice started falling too. They mostly bounced off his coat, but when one cracked into his goggles hard enough that he felt his skull rattle, he knew it was starting to get serious. Then, another crunch, but this one *close*. Right next to him, in fact, where an armchair sized spiked urchin of glittering blue ice had slammed down into the ground, leaving its upper half to rapidly start being swallowed by the snow, while the grim threat remained obvious. In front of him, James saw Nik¡¯s head whip around at the impact site. He shared a look with James, but neither of them paused in their movements. The sooner out of this storm, the better. The line ahead of him sped up, and James increased his own speed to match, no one wanting to be stuck here any longer than needed. Alanna and Arrush were out of his sight now, swallowed by the driving snow that came in great plumes and threatened to overwhelm anyone that stood still for more than a minute or two. But the line was still pulling, and James had faith in them. He was entirely unsurprised when he passed by the rapidly freezing corpse of one of the snow beasts, shards of shattered eye scattered across the path. He was more surprised when the line started to get some slack, and he caught up to everyone else. Anesh catching his eye and waving him and Nik over as they approached. He yelled something over the wind, and pointed at the thing they had stopped by. An out of place pylon, sticking up through the middle of the snowy hill, defiantly casting a strange yellow werlight onto the surrounding canvas of white. ¡°What the fuck is this?!¡± James yelled, voice consumed by the wind. No one answered him, partially because no one heard him clearly, but also because it was hard to explain why a working traffic light was sitting here on the hill, stuck on yellow. But they didn¡¯t have time to sit around and examine it. So far, it hadn¡¯t tried to kill any of them, and so they kept moving, just a few dozen steps away from cresting the hill. Two heavy spiked ice impacts nearby urging them on. When they did, James was treated to the sight of a small valley, slightly protected from the driving snow, and so he could see just enough to see the crescent of cliffs that outlined their momentary salvation. The hill they¡¯d just covered right at the mouth of the valley, James made a note to come back and check for an easier way up when the storm died down. For now, they pressed forward, the wind lessening somewhat as the party crossed the threshold of the cliffs. The snow and ice kept going though, and James moved himself to the middle of the group, keeping his reflexes dialed up to maximum as he watched the sky for any incoming projectiles. They passed a few trees, which they steered clear of, unsure if the bare branches hid more stick monsters. They passed another street light, too, this one flickering a green left turn signal. Moving with cautious steps, they started skirting the outside wall, looking for a good place to set down and make camp - a cave or alcove or *something* they could hide from the storm in. It was better here, yes, but it was still getting worse by the minute. Then Alanna, alternating sharing perception with Anesh as they swept different sides of the party, spotted it, and with a muffled shout and a pointed finger, directed their attention forward and left, to the cliff at the end of the valley. The cliff that had a lot of strange dark rectangular holes in it. And columns near the base that looked strangely artificial. And¡­ ¡°Is that a goddamn apartment building?¡± James yelled, voice finally carrying over a lull in the wind. It was. Frozen over, with snow packed up to the second floor, but it was. In fact, it looked like the entire cliff face might be a buried structure. Dark and cold, but also¡­ not outside. James was about to get them moving, when something twinged in his awareness. The confluence of a half dozen different powers and skills came together in an instant, as his brain warned him about something with barely enough time to do anything about it. Without thinking, he ripped as much speed from Anesh as he could, feeding it into his Agility-enhanced legs, threw himself sideways, and crashed into Nik. Nik went sprawling, crashing into a new divot in the unblemished snow. Unharmed, though, armor taking most of the impact. James did *not* hit the snow. Instead, the snow hit him. A spike of ice, screaming out of the sky at high velocity, cut through where Nik¡¯s head had been a split second ago. Fortunately, James was still moving, following Nik down to the ground, so his head wasn¡¯t there instead. But the razor-sharp spine of ice caught him on the arm, and went straight through his coat. And armor. And arm. And out the other side, painting the snow with a splatter of red. James and Nik both screamed, for different reasons, James collapsing to the snow face-first as his arm gave out when he tried to prop himself up without thinking. Nik was already moving, rolling him over and holding up a hand, the vibrant green of his Authority unfolding as he gave it orders. Repair the internal damage, set the bone, seal the wound, hold in place. None of which did much for the pain, and James was suddenly struggling to keep his focus long enough to turn *down* the purple orb that dialed up his sensory input. The pain overwhelmed him, and he caught the next part in flashes. People freaking out, Anesh staying calm as he reclaimed his speed. More ice coming down, some near misses. A set of simple objectives; get into cover. Alanna slung him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and *ran* through the snow, with Nik keeping close to maintain Aidamy¡¯s hold on his injury. They reached the apartment structure just as the ice storm was intensifying to almost certain lethality. Arrush loped up the drift of snow to the second floor window, running on every limb he had as he took point and smashed through the remainder of the broken glass shoulder first. Anesh and Alex were right behind him, guns out, ready to put down any hostile resistance. When Alanna passed him through the window, James staggered to his feet, regaining some of his ability as a foreign presence in his self reached into the metaphysical control board for his different powers and started adjusting things. Dialing back his pain receptors, linking his Endurance and blood production and clotting. Soon, he could stand, even if he was still sweating and grinding his teeth from what pain he did still feel. The six of them stopped in the bedroom they¡¯d crashed into, heaving for breath. Alex recovered first, turning to look outside at the devastation the storm was raining down. Arm length spikes of ice falling, two or three a second scattered across the landscape. A screaming high pitched tone where the wind was catching on the window, frozen scraps of ancient cloth fluttering wildly against the wall. ¡°Ow.¡± James gasped out. ¡°Everyone okay?¡± Alanna turned to present her back to them. ¡°Is there¡­¡± She asked, twisting to see what was behind her. Alex gently reached up and plucked the icicle out of her backpack. It had dug deep, and probably ruined something important. ¡°Yeah.¡± She said, throwing the frozen spear out the window behind them. ¡°Unharmed¡± Arrush said simply, crouching near the shattered, rotted wood of the bedroom¡¯s door. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Froze up there for a second, sorry.¡± ¡°My¡­ bad.¡± James¡¯ words were more like gasps of air than his normal smooth tone. ¡°Had to take some speed.¡± ¡°Th..thanks.¡± Nik stammered out. ¡°I¡¯m good too. Where are we?¡± ¡°Bedroom, looks like.¡± Alanna said, slinging her pack off to make sure nothing was going to spill out. ¡°Okay, the window makes this a bad place to stay. Let¡¯s get farther in. Everyone get ready; this place seems great for an ambush.¡± James nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s go down. Check the lobby. Should be insulated, sealed by the snow.¡± He started to try to draw his sidearm, but Anesh stopped him, a pressed hand holding James¡¯ arm to his side. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You¡¯re gonna bring up the rear.¡± Anesh said simply. ¡°Alex, with me. Arrush and Alanna, cover.¡± He double checked his own gun, tactile enhancement on the gloves making it a lot less problematic to handle, and stepped up to the door. ¡°Ready?¡± Alex nodded at him nervously, and Anesh leaned forward to rattle the handle, shoving the door open with a frozen crack as the old ice split away and took some of the wood with it. The inside of the apartment structure was bizarre. Concrete halls, rotted hard carpet, ice dripping from every surface. Small piles of snow here and there. No signs of any life; there was old furniture, sure, but no skeletons, no footprints, nothing. Scraps of what were once coats, small clumps of crumpled paper or takeout containers frozen into abstract sculptures, but nothing that made this place look like anyone had been here for a very *very* long time. It didn¡¯t take James long to realize something. ¡°This is a dorm.¡± He said suddenly, and a little too loudly. Anesh glanced back at him, and James elaborated, keeping his voice down now that he didn¡¯t have to fight with the wind to be heard. ¡°Look. The rooms are just bedrooms, or sometimes two-room apartments. This isn¡¯t an apartment, this is a college dorm.¡± ¡°So the lobby¡­¡± ¡°Might have vending machines.¡± James finished for Alanna. ¡°Not what I was thinking, but okay.¡± His girlfriend rolled her eyes at him. Ahead of them, Anesh and Alex checked another door, making sure nothing was going to jump out at them. But then, beyond that, the hallway opened up into an open space. They were on the second floor, and the rough concrete hall floor turned into a balcony that wrapped around open air over the common area. There were five other hallways leading into the dorms, and two stairways on either side of the lobby that made this upper walkway into a kind of horseshoe shape. Down below, there was cold brick and concrete. A trio of old couches tried to pretend the place was homey or comfortable, and failed. A dead fireplace sat embedded in a central brick pillar. James could see more hallways leading to more dorm rooms, as well as a small door with a frosted glass window that was probably the main office. Nothing moved. He and Anesh shared a suspicious glance. Anesh leaned over the balcony, and called down. ¡°Anyone home?¡± Nothing moved. ¡°This seems like as good as we¡¯re gonna get.¡± James sighed. ¡°Nik, how¡¯s my arm doing?¡± He asked. ¡°Uh¡­ there¡¯s a hole in it.¡± Nik replied, like that was obvious. ¡°Thanks. Cool. I mean, how powerful is your healing nonsense?¡± Nik jerked upright. ¡°Oh! Uh, you¡¯ll be okay, I guess? Aidemy keeps infection out, and is staving off frostbite, and you¡­ uh, you heal *fast* actually. She¡¯s just kinda helping it along. Should be good in, like, three or four hours? If you can get warm.¡± The answer actually surprised James, who had kind of assumed he at least would need to telepad out for safety. ¡°Okay. This seems like the place to camp then.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s get some tripwires up on these halls, and then get a fire going, yeah?¡± His suggestion was met with overwhelming agreement. Twenty minutes later, after rigging up what were essentially cans on strings to all the hallways mouths as makeshift alarms, the lobby was starting to warm up. Slightly. A roaring fire cast orange light over the couches they¡¯d dragged over, after making sure they weren¡¯t mimics or bombs or something worse. Alanna was feeding a few chunks of oddly bent wood from the wallet of holding into the blaze, letting the fire that roared up from the ignited copy of Pony Things take its natural course. The infinite magazine, which James gave a rude grin at, was finally serving an actual purpose. ¡°Okay.¡± He said around a mouthful of cold ravioli. ¡°Good progress for the first day, I think. How¡¯s everyone doing?¡± Everyone being those of them who weren¡¯t actively keeping guard right now. ¡°Exhausted.¡± Anesh said. ¡°We should have brought more exercise potions. We only have two left each now, and I could have used all of them today.¡± Nik nodded as he set up a couple bedrolls from their packs onto the floor. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m so tired. And I barely did anything.¡± ¡°Oh, that reminds me!¡± James said, trying and failing to snap his fingers. ¡°Nik, are you okay with me explaining to Arrush the thing?¡± ¡°The th¡­ oh. Uh. Sort of?¡± Nik seemed to shrink slightly under James¡¯ gaze. ¡°Then I will sort of explain.¡± James turned to the ratroach, who had, not unintentionally, set himself up on the opposite side of their camp space from Nik. ¡°He¡¯s been using the shaper substance to fix his body. Nothing to worry about. Can¡¯t do much about the smell though.¡± Arrush blinked his eyes at James in a circular sequence of surprise. Like he hadn¡¯t actually expected a follow up on that, and certainly not a real answer. He hissed out a breath, then turned to face Nik directly for the first time, voice rough and pained from the cold on top of his flawed biology. ¡°Do¡­ you require help?¡± Arrush said. ¡°I can show¡­ some tricks.¡± He had to pause between words, both for breath, and to consider what he was saying. But he still said it. ¡°Uh¡­ I mean, if Reed doesn¡¯t get *super* mad about this and ban me from it forever. Yes? Yeah. Yeah! That sounds like¡­ I¡¯d like that. I didn¡¯t think to ask.¡± Nik stumbled through something approaching real conversation. James just smirked and shook his head. ¡°Alanna, Ben, Alex, how¡¯re you all doing?¡± He called to the remainder of the group. ¡°Hungry!¡± Alanna called back. ¡°What do we have to eat in this place anyway?¡± James looked down at the hand made ravioli that Nate had packed for them. Which he was, like some kind of monster, eating without actually reheating. ¡°Uh¡­ some pretty good stuff, actually. Can I just say, I think the infinite lunchbox is kind of my favorite thing?¡± He rose to his feet, wincing as he put a little too much weight on his damaged arm, and started unpacking a sealed plastic container of food for Alanna. ¡°Yeah, though I¡¯m now super conscious of just how bad it would be for one of those little shadowy eater things to get into one of our backpacks. Or worse! Get one of the Status Quo gun bracelets!¡± Anesh shook his head, ramming his eyes shut like he could will the idea away. ¡°So, we¡¯re gonna keep going?¡± Alex asked as she walked past, taking a minute to enjoy the heat of the fire, even while she stayed standing and watching the hall. The orange yellow light flickering off the solid wall of white behind them where the snow had buried the front of the building and packed down to a monocolored sheet. ¡°We could get out in, what, half an hour? We¡¯re already way farther in than the others got. And James is hurt.¡± ¡°I mean, we could. But I think we¡¯ve mostly got this? So far. *So far*!¡± James clarified as Anesh glared at him. ¡°We can always fall back if we need to!¡± He handed the pasta and a camp utensil to Alanna, shaking his head at her smirk as he walked back to the fire. ¡°Why, are you tired?¡± He asked Alex. ¡°Pff! No!¡± She lied as she blew a strand of hair out of her face. ¡°But look! Poor Ben and Nik are just *so exhausted*! Can we really make them go on?¡± The two boys gave her incredulous looks. ¡°I¡¯m going to bed.¡± Nik announced, stretching out under a thermal blanket, harness and armor removed but undersuit still on. ¡°I will be fine. And sore. But also fine. And like James said, we can always fall back. We¡¯ve got time to rest anyway; I doubt anything can make it through...¡± ¡°Oh god please stop.¡± James said. ¡°...the storm anyway. What?¡± Nik finished, giving a confused look. Anesh answered. ¡°That kind of thing is basically an invitation for a dramatic problem to occur.¡± He said, looking up at the ceiling of the dorm¡¯s common area like he was waiting for something to smash through the window. Everyone went silent, watching him, and the room. For a few minutes with no sound but the crackling of the fire. ¡°Hm. Normally.¡± Anesh broke the spell. James laughed, the sound infectious to the others, who joined in. Outside, a storm raged. But here, in this empty, cold, dead building, they had a fire, food, and a little safety. They had time to rest up, sleep properly, and double check their gear. And to plan for tomorrow, to see how high they could reach, together. When the pull came from the fire, none of them left. The seven of them were eager to see what was next. Chapter 172 ¡°You¡¯re all clear, kid! Now let¡¯s blow this thing and go home!¡± - Han Solo, Star Wars Episode IV - _____ ¡°Hey.¡± A soft voice whispered to James, as his brain spun itself out of sleep. It was accompanied by a shaking of his shoulder, a soft rocking that was far too gentle to be either of his partners. Alanna would just tackle him, Anesh would be more firm. His first thought as he woke up was to recognize that someone unknown was kneeling over him. Fortunately, James¡¯ brain also caught up to the fact that he was on the cracked concrete floor of an abandoned dorm building several miles or so up the side of a mountain that was itself a dungeon. And so he neither panicked, nor made any overt yelps as he cracked his eyes open and groggily tried to figure out if it was Alex or Nik waking him up. It was Alex. And she was wearing a worried look on her face. James shook off the pale haze of dreamland as forcefully as he could and pushed himself up onto an elbow. ¡°Mmrs¡¯goin on?¡± He asked. ¡°My watch shift?¡± He added, clearing his throat and getting a little more coherent. ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to be.¡± Alex muttered. ¡°There¡¯s a problem.¡± Now James was *really* awake. ¡°Okay, what¡¯s up?¡± He looked around. The fire was mostly embers now, the room having kept the heat they¡¯d pumped in fairly well. Alanna and Nik were sleeping on the other padded mats they¡¯d brought, while the others kept an eye out. Everything seemed fine. The unbroken plate glass windows facing outside still had snow packed up against them, showing off their semi-underground status. The camp lanterns were still going, casting a low white glow over everything. In the distance, James could hear wind howling, which was the same sound that had echoed him to sleep not too much earlier. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be your shift.¡± Alex muttered. ¡°But that¡¯s not what we planned. And I don¡¯t know why.¡± ¡°Okay, explain.¡± James was rolling to his feet now, muscles stiff from the persistent cold even though he¡¯d slept in a pretty good sleeping bag. He started pulling on armor pieces that he¡¯d arranged nearby, grateful that the exercise recover potion seemed to have kept the worst of the soreness away. ¡°It¡¯s my Sewer power.¡± Alex muttered, still looking like she wasn¡¯t sure if she should have woken James up at all. ¡°It¡¯s timing, right? Well, if we had even split watch shifts, *now* is when I should be waking you up. But¡­ uh¡­ it¡¯s not? So I woke you up.¡± ¡°I do not wake up coherent enough for this.¡± James grumbled. ¡°So, you should have woken me earlier? We messed up the math or something?¡± ¡°No, no. We should have woken you up *later*. I¡¯m waking you up early, because Timing says it¡¯s your shift. But, uh¡­ I don¡¯t know why.¡± James thought about it for a second. His brain turned up nothing. ¡°Powers usually don¡¯t screw up. Something¡¯s probably going on. Where¡¯s Arrush?¡± Alex just pointed over to a spot near the crumbled metal of a pair of drinking fountains where the ratroach had claimed a perch to silently watch as many of the hallways into this room as possible. ¡°Okay. Anesh?¡± ¡°He¡¯s off with Ben, watching upstairs.¡± Alex¡¯s voice was concerned, but also apologetic. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry, I didn¡¯t know what to do, and I didn¡¯t think waking Alanna¡­¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, Alanna wakes up all flaily.¡± James nodded at Alex¡¯s wisdom. ¡°Here, pull this strap for me.¡± He shifted and let the girl tug at his armor. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go check on the others. Watch these two. You slept, right?¡± Alex winced. ¡°Yeah, sorta. Kinda hard to, you know?¡± ¡°Heh. Yeah.¡± James nodded and stood, bracing himself against one of the broken couches as he tried to put his boots on while they were still damp; the fire hadn¡¯t done much to dry out the persistent wet of the no longer frozen snow. ¡°Well. Now¡¯s as good a time as any to get up. Get some food out for everyone, kay?¡± Alex just nodded, and James returned the nod with what he hoped was less nervousness while he walked off to check on the others. When he approached the nearest watcher, Arrush inclined his head the way he¡¯d seen the humans do to James. This had the unfortunate side effect of causing a thin line of blue drool to roll down the corner of his mouth, splattering to the drysuit the ratroach wore under his climbing harness. It sizzled, slightly, eating away at the material before Arrush whisked it off. It was a little strange, the line between Arrush¡¯s black fur and grey-brown chitin that adorned his neck and head, and the smooth monochrome black of the drysuit. The contrast was startling, for all they were close to the same color. But now that James looked¡­ he noticed a handful of small holes in Arrush¡¯s suit where the fur was poking through. ¡°Hey.¡± He greeted the ratroach. ¡°You doing alright? Get some sleep?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush rasped back. ¡°Fine. Warmer here. I am¡­ no, nothing.¡± James frowned at him with his whole face. ¡°If I tell you what¡¯s wrong with me, will you tell me what¡¯s wrong with you?¡± ¡°Probably¡­ no.¡± Arrush admitted. ¡°You share weaknesses¡­ to easily.¡± He was still having trouble speaking in long bursts. But at least he was speaking. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that. But also, complaining about how the cold makes my bones hurt is a time honored tradition among my people.¡± James said. Then, realizing what he¡¯d just done, corrected a bit by saying, ¡°That¡¯s mostly a joke. My grandpa used to say that, and I¡¯m exaggerating to make a joke. But I just realized that you don¡¯t have the context. There is not tradition of complaining. But you still can if you want.¡± He faltered through his speech more than Arrush had, though for different reasons. The ratroach snorted something that sounded like a wet sigh. Then, looking back up at James, said, ¡°Elbows.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°The cold. My elbows ache.¡± Arrush said. ¡°I am complaining.¡± James blinked, then slowly let a grin spread across his face. ¡°You¡¯re really adaptable, huh?¡± He mused. ¡°Anyway. We¡¯re gonna get ready to face the day soon. I¡¯m gonna go collect Anesh.¡± The ratroach tipped his head again, this time careful not to leak on his gear. James ascended the right side staircase, boots clomping on cold concrete as he did so. Aside from his steps, the whole place was silent. The kind of quiet that comes from a blanket of muffling snow, but also mixed with the kind of quiet that comes from a place that¡¯s waiting for people to return to it. The building had that kind of feeling, despite the disrepair; like it was just slumbering, and not ruined. Part of him wondered if it *was* put here for them. It had a working fireplace, even. He found Anesh a short way down one of the upstairs hallways. One of the ones that led farther into the building, away from where they¡¯d breached through the front second floor window. Ben was with his partner, standing nearby while Anesh used a piece of old wood to turn through a pile of rotting cloth on the ground. ¡°Hey.¡± James greeted his boyfriend. ¡°What¡¯cha got there?¡± ¡°A stick.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°You¡¯re up early. Couldn¡¯t sleep?¡± ¡°Eh. Something like that.¡± James shrugged. ¡°So, no secrets of the dungeon revealed?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m obviously not going to stray too far when I¡¯m supposed to be nearby to spot danger.¡± Anesh rolled his eyes, tossing the stick into the pile of detritus. ¡°So no, nothing in these first handful of rooms. This place is strange, James.¡± ¡°Strange how? Also come on, we¡¯re gonna do a breakfast when everyone wakes up.¡± James tipped his head back toward the main room. ¡°Also¡­ isn¡¯t the existence of this place strange in the first place? Like, I don¡¯t wanna judge a dungeon I haven¡¯t really gotten to know yet, but I was prepare to encounter exactly two types of building up a mountain, and this is neither of them.¡± Anesh carefully stepped back over their tripwire, strung across the mouth of the hallway, and caught up to James to walk next to him as they circled back around the stairs. ¡°Well, it¡¯s the lack of¡­ sorry, *two*? Ski lodge, obviously, but what¡¯s the other?¡± ¡°James Bond villain lair.¡± ¡°That was one movie.¡± Anesh rolled his eyes. ¡°That was *four* movies.¡± James corrected him. ¡°Five if you count¡­ uh¡­ Die Another Day? The one with the ice hotel and the space laser.¡± ¡°Goldeneye.¡± ¡°The *other* Bond movie space laser, and... this is not important. Tell me about the dungeon.¡± James tried to sound stern but could only manage a slightly restrained chuckle as they descended the stairs. They paused a little bit away from the camp so they could talk without waking Alanna and Nik just yet. ¡°Well, like I said, it¡¯s kind of empty. And I suppose I¡¯m just thinking that, compared to Officium Mundi or even Route Horizon, there¡¯s *nothing here*. No trinkets, no resources, nothing. The furniture is falling apart, there¡¯s only some scraps of torn clothing or waterlogged paper. The vending machines are shattered and empty. So¡¯s the fountains.¡± He gestured over to near where Arrush was trying to stifle a yawn. ¡°The most we¡¯ve found by way of¡­ I guess the best way I can think to say for now it would be ¡®natural rewards¡¯... would be the weird berries you and Arrush found. But that¡¯s kind of it.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve noticed that, yeah.¡± James sighed out. ¡°I¡¯m actually worried that this is gonna be something like the map scraps from El¡¯s home turf, you know? Where if we don¡¯t actually solve the puzzle, we¡¯re not gonna get anything out of it.¡± Anesh nodded at his partner, sharing the sigh. ¡°Well, not much we can do about it. We¡¯re not here to set up a research station, just to scout as much as we can.¡± ¡°On that note, I¡¯m awake enough now to inflict it on others.¡± James commented smarmily. ¡°Let¡¯s go get Alanna and Nik up, and get today moving.¡± He rolled his arm, stretching out his shoulder, as he started walking over to the embers of their fire. Nik woke up abruptly when James poked him, jerking sideways and sending an awkward punch toward his dreamed assistant. James didn¡¯t take it personally, but did still dodge it. Alanna woke up groggily. James *knew* she¡¯d woken up, but his partner was stubbornly refusing to open her eyes. ¡°Come on, up up.¡± James whispered to her. ¡°Time for adventure.¡± He planted a kiss on her lips, which she started to lean into before pulling away suddenly. ¡°Augh!¡± Alanna brought up her hands to wipe at the cool air in front of her face. ¡°You have morning breath!¡± James laughed. ¡°Well, sorry I didn¡¯t remember to pack a toothbrush for our hike up Terror Mountain.¡± He swatted at her butt through the padding of the sleeping bag. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get this morning started.¡± He cajoled her out of bed while Alex tried to smother a snickering laugh behind them. Half an hour later, the seven adventurers were more or less ready to go. They¡¯d had breakfast, double checked every piece of gear they had, gotten dressed, and found a derelict bathroom that was still ¡®usable enough¡¯ to relieve themselves. They¡¯d patched some small holes in armor and one big hole in Alanna¡¯s backpack. They replaced missing protective equipment, and took stock of their abilities. A good twenty minutes after that was spent quietly going over the previous day, now that they had some breathing room. A breakdown of what went well, and what could go better. How to improve, as a team. Then, they took stock of injuries. James had the worst of it; his hand still ached from where he¡¯d had to scrape bare skin against frozen rock to haul himself up when his glove got eaten. And also, the hole in his arm wasn¡¯t that great either. There was a feeling like ripping off a scab when Nik¡¯s Authority had pulled back from the wound, leaving behind a patch of pink scar tissue, but no hole. ¡°You still lost blood.¡± Nik told him. ¡°So don¡¯t push it. Or get stabbed again. I¡¯m not actually sure if it¡¯ll be more or less of a problem at higher elevation.¡± ¡°Oh, that.¡± Alex cut in. ¡°I brought a couple things to check with; the air isn¡¯t getting thinner or anything. Pressure¡¯s the same up here as it was at the start.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s kind of insulting. We haven¡¯t got up enough to matter?¡± Alanna asked, sullenly. ¡°Uh, no. It¡¯s just not something that¡¯s happening.¡± Alex shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ve absolutely gone high enough that it should matter.¡± ¡°Air gets¡­ thinner?¡± Arrush asked. James made that small ¡®ah¡¯ noise that he¡¯d been getting too familiar with making every time he forgot that the ratroach didn¡¯t have a college education. ¡°Yes, generally. Normally, the higher up you go, the harder it can be to breathe like usual. That¡¯s a huge simplification, but yeah, thinner air.¡± ¡°What a strange world.¡± Arrush rasped. ¡°It¡¯s big enough to have a lot of weird in it, yeah.¡± James agreed. ¡°Okay. So. I¡¯m not dead, we¡¯re all packed up, everyone¡¯s fed and warm¡­¡± ¡°I am not warm!¡± Anesh reminded him with folded arms. ¡°Every meter away from the fireplace it drops two degrees!¡± ¡°...everyone¡¯s warm *enough*. So.¡± James clapped his gloved hands together, the mismatched fabric feeling like a second skin as he smiled at the group. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving.¡± Together, the seven of them made for the stairs. Today¡¯s plan was simple. Not easy, but simple. They were going to keep going up. But first, it was worth scouting the rest of this building to see if there were any secrets hidden within. By the time they made it to the third floor, most of the windows were unblocked. At least, on the side facing where they¡¯d come from. The windows on the ¡®rear¡¯ of the building were all blocked off by the solid rock of the cliff it was embedded in. It was like the whole structure had been slapped into place, the stone flowing around it to create a cradle for the piece of misplaced architecture. None of the dorm rooms on the third floor had anything in them of note. More splintered wood and cracked plastic of old furniture. One of them had its bare concrete covered in shards of a broken mirror, the frame of which instantly put James on edge as they searched the rest of the room. But nothing jumped out, either of the frame or the broken pieces. It was just quiet, inside. Outside, the storm was still going. Not at the violent scream that the wind had been whipped up to when they¡¯d taken shelter yesterday, but still something powerful. It was hitting the building from the side, and every time they checked a room with a window that faced the front, they could see a frantic curtain of snowflakes flying past. Building up miniature drifts in the corners of broken windows. No spikes of ice rained down death, so at least there was that. On the fourth floor, there was a rec room. The group paused at the door, James and Nik glancing at each other from either side of the portal. The door itself was missing, the frame cracked and crumbling, but the building didn¡¯t appear unstable. Both of them had their sidearms out; just because the building *looked* empty didn¡¯t mean anyone in the group wanted to get ambushed. A slight nod, and James stepped through, sweeping the left side of the room, while Nik took the right. Their movements weren¡¯t perfect, but they were professional and trained. Nothing moved on them, and they called out an initial clear status, while the others moved in behind them, Alanna staying behind and crouching to watch the door. The rec room had windows of its own that faced the right side of the building. The space was easily five or six times the size of any individual dorm they¡¯d searched so far, and James counted them lucky that the windows faced *away* from the direction of the storm. There was a shattered big screen TV against one wall, the communal electronic cleaved through the middle with a gash that went halfway down its face. What looked like a demolished IKEA shelf had toppled over next to it, spilling board games and books into a pile of rotting cardboard and soaked ink. There was a pile of snow along the wall under the windows, where previous storms had stacked up the frozen substance, and the ambient temperature of ¡°cold¡± had not seen fit to melt it away. And off to the side, a billiard table. Broken, of course, two of its legs snapped and the body cracked down the middle. Pool cues scattered where their rank had been similarly broken, the balls having rolled to carpet the room. The ones that weren¡¯t crushed to fragments, that is. ¡°Who *built* this place?¡± Alex muttered. ¡°Wrong question.¡± Alanna said from her lookout post. ¡°We know who built it. The dungeon did. The better question is¡­¡± ¡°*Why* did the dungeon make a dorm?¡± Alex filled in. James nodded, bolstering his pistol. ¡°Good question.¡± He acknowledged, eyes sweeping the pattern of cracks on the ceiling over the middle of the room. ¡°College dorm doesn¡¯t feel very mountainous. But¡­ well, not much we can do about that. This room has way more stuff than anything else, though. So, maybe something worth something here.¡± They split up, something that wasn¡¯t nearly as dangerous as it would have been if they¡¯d done it outside of the same room, and started poking around the various objects. The TV was a complete wreck, and James had a hard time assuming anything of value was hidden there. Anesh and Nik kind of zeroed in on trying to sort out the old textbooks for anything readable. And Arrush¡­ sniffed the air, with his twisted snout, before cocking his head and shifting toward the pool table. Alex, though, went over to try to take a look out the windows. And as soon as her path across the middle of the room took her under the cracks on the ceiling, there was a snapping sound. Everyone froze. Even Alex, whose eyes went wide as she heard the sound from above her. For a second, the whole room went still, the people nearest to the sound tensing up more than the others as they prepared to move. Alex shifted *slightly*, and the noise intensified; the cracking and grinding of stone and wood coming apart filling the air. Then, the girl took a deep breath, nodded to herself on a beat like a metronome, and then flung herself backward just as the ceiling overhead came apart. The others also flung themselves away from where the rubble would be coming down. But it *didn¡¯t*. Instead, it ¡®fell¡¯ upward, the shattered remains of the ceiling and the floor of the floor overhead tumbling in defiance of gravity to smash into the ceiling one floor up, breaking through that too, before coming to a cacophonous stop after ¡®falling¡¯ twenty feet or so. Alex had almost completely gotten out of the way, but not *entirely*. And the girl had, when the reverse pit trap on the ceiling had begun breaking, been sucked upward along with several pieces of broken couch and shelf under the hole. Her leg had slammed into the ceiling, and she¡¯d started sliding upward across the intact ceiling of the rec room toward the hole, before Alanna had reacted and jumped to grab Alex¡¯s outstretched arm, dragging her back to the floor. An act that required a shocking amount of force, as the reversed gravity didn¡¯t seem to fade until she was planted firmly back on the floor away from the break. ¡°Fuck!¡± Was all James could think to say. ¡°Holy shit. Aaaah. Wow. Aaaahahahahaha!¡± Alex¡¯s voice turned into a babble of words as she crouched on the floor clutching her chest. ¡°What the *shit*?! That¡¯s not fair!¡± She jutted a shaking hand toward the hole, where even now they could all see the dust and splinters of the collapse falling the wrong direction. ¡°Fuck that!¡± ¡°Everyone okay?¡± James called out, and got a chorus of affirmations back from everyone. Even Alex, who had almost been flung upward two stories, wasn¡¯t actually hurt. ¡°Okay! Keep an eye out for *that*, now, too, I guess! This place obviously isn¡¯t as neutral as we thought.¡± With that grim reminder that they were still in a dungeon in mind, they went back about their search. ¡°This smells¡­ familiar.¡± Arrush said a minute or two, stalking back around the hole in the ceiling with his uneven gait to hand James a pool cue. It was old and worn, but still intact, unlike most of everything else here. ¡°Not like home¡­ but¡­ I cannot explain.¡± The ratroach looked concerned, even now, that his words were unwelcome. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Hm.¡± James said, eying the piece of wood in his hands. He tried to pull on that extra bit of sensory information he¡¯d sometimes have in Officium Mundi that could *maybe* point out dungeontech to him, but nothing came to life. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not gonna hit anything with it, just in case.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ll take it with us, though.¡± He looked up and met Arrush¡¯s eyes. ¡°If it¡¯s nothing, no worries. If it¡¯s something, good nose. What *does* it smell like, actually? Office stuff sometimes smells like hot salt to me.¡± ¡°Like¡­ like¡­¡± The ratroach tried to clear his throat, the dry air leaving his voice pained and raspier than normal. James offered him some water, which Arrush took, but did not drink. ¡°Smells like cold air.¡± Arrush said, looking down at the water bottle in his hand. ¡°Should not share this with me.¡± He muttered. ¡°What? No, just, drink the¡­ oh.¡± James¡¯ mouth twisted into a sad frown as he realized why Arrush was saying that, eyes flicking to the glowing saliva on the edges of the ratroach¡¯s mouth. ¡°Uh¡­ okay, well, that one¡¯s yours then. Don¡¯t worry about it. And *drink something*. I¡¯ve. talked to Deb! I know hydration is important for you!¡± ¡°...Gracias.¡± Arrush hissed out. James shook his head, and slung his backpack off to break down the pool cue and zip-tie the pieces together. Fortunately, even with its worn age, the screws weren¡¯t rusted, and shortly he had a much more portable potential magic item. That done, he went over to bother the last two people still searching the room. Nik and Anesh were trying to read books. Which was alternating between the two of them tossing books - mostly textbooks from the looks of it - to the side if they were too damaged to read, or stacking them in a pile between where they were crouched if they met some strange criteria. The two boys talked in excited tones, perking up as James got closer. ¡°James!¡± Anesh exclaimed. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with these!¡± ¡°Oh good. I was worried this was going to be an easy day.¡± James deadpanned. Anesh rolled his eyes. ¡°Wanker. No, it¡¯s that they won¡¯t¡­ book.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t just say that.¡± Nik cut in. ¡°It¡¯s more that they don¡¯t¡­ uh¡­book. Fuck dammit, okay. Fine.¡± He sighed. ¡°You can¡¯t read them, but they¡¯re intact and functional. Here, look at this one.¡± He took the top book off their ¡®intact¡¯ pile and handed it to James. James opened it, looked at the words inside, figured out what subject it was, and then realized that he hadn¡¯t opened the textbook at all and had, in fact, read no words. ¡°Trippy.¡± He commented. ¡°What use are these?¡± ¡°Well, they¡¯re weird for one thing.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Some of them are more damaged than others, and you can tell. But¡­ I dunno, this feels important.¡± ¡°Okay. Pack ¡®em up.¡± James said. ¡°What, really? All of those?¡± Alanna asked as she joined them. ¡°That¡¯s gonna weigh so much. You¡¯ve been to college, you *know* how heavy textbooks get!¡± She chided James. She wasn¡¯t wrong, exactly. But, their packs were lightened by what they¡¯d used up to get this far, and with seven people, it wasn¡¯t too hard to distribute them so that no one was *too* weighed down. It amused James that at this point, his pack included a pool cue, a hubcap, and a couple textbooks. If he was on his way to college, it was a hell of a weird one. They did one last sweep of the rec room, but found nothing else, aside from the strange pull of reversed gravity still ¡®under¡¯ the hole in the ceiling. So they moved up. Using the stairs. No one liked James¡¯ suggestion of dropping up the pit trap. The next floor was dorm rooms. The most interesting thing they found was the communal bathroom, where it looked like every pipe and faucet had exploded, the water freezing after a second or two of flowing. The whole place was frozen, literally, in a moment of chaos. They didn¡¯t explore that one, leaving the dark room alone. Instead, they just kept heading up when it became clear there was no threat or treasure here either, again skirting the column of warped gravity. The next floor was the last one in the dorm. It was also just empty rooms, dust, and broken fragments of lives that were never lived here. James found half a poster taped to the rough brick wall of one of the rooms, that appeared to be a tour poster for a band called Tyrannosaurus Wrecks. At least, if he was guessing the name properly, from where it was torn down the middle. He added it to his pack, already mentally ranking it as the coolest thing they¡¯d found so far. And then, there was nothing left to search. ¡°Is it just me, or was this place *really* empty?¡± Alex asked as they collected themselves and took a five minute break by the door to the top floor¡¯s balcony. The balcony - or was it a patio? James could never keep those straight - stretched out the back of the building, and merged seamlessly with the frozen snowy hills that continued up and up and up. They were so high up now, they scraped the cloudline, even if there was still a lot of climbing before they really got past it. ¡°It was empty.¡± Anesh acknowledged Alex¡¯s question. ¡°Which, yes, is strange. It felt to me like there was more outside than in here. And outside is mostly snow.¡± ¡°Ehhhh, that might just be because it was harder to walk out there.¡± Alanna suggested with a shrug. ¡°Anyway. Ready to get back to the wind and stuff?¡± ¡°No.¡± Anesh said dejectedly, at the same time that James gave an excited ¡°Yup!¡± Anesh was overruled. Even Arrush gave a tentative nod along with them. And so, they pulled open the back doors to the patio, the sliding doors grinding on what seemed like a century of grit and ice buildup. They had to be careful, even with the heavy gloves, to not accidentally grab the shattered parts of the glass. And then, pulling goggles down and masks up, the team moved on. The six of them climbing the railing and taking their first steps of the day out of their shelter. The wind and snow whistled around them, but didn¡¯t cut off their vision or threaten to fling them around like puppets like it had yesterday. Instead, it was just cold, snowy, and walking required an effort, especially uphill. Just another day in the dungeon. Their boots crunched into snow as they made their way up the hill, the dorm and the cliffs behind them soon so far back that it was hard for an individual human-scale person to tell that they were elevated at all. They still had a rope connecting them, just in case, but it was a much more relaxed pace than when they were trying to outrace an ice blizzard. Twenty minutes later, when they were ¡®ambushed¡¯ by a snow pile that must have thought it was being sneaky, Alanna slammed into its back with an overeager tackle, hauling herself up to its head with a cackling laugh to shatter one of the creature¡¯s black stone eyes using one of her glove¡¯s charges. The others were ready to help, but let her have her fun. They kept climbing. Pausing briefly to take shelter behind a boulder when the wind did pick up again. It didn¡¯t last for long, though a few razor sharp discs of ice got flung down the mountain. Their resting spot kept them from injury though, and it was more than big enough for all of them. James did get another glove eaten when he leaned on one of the rock¡¯s shadows though, without thinking about it. ¡°God dammit.¡± He muttered, letting Anesh pull their last spare out of his pack and fumbling a rapidly numbing hand into it. The cold was *not* something they could screw around with anymore, their little thermostat reading it at negative twenty out here. ¡°Where are the flares? There¡¯s another boulder coming up, we should have a flare ready.¡± He called over the wind ¡°They¡¯re in Ben¡¯s pack!¡± Alex shouted back. James paused. Everyone paused, actually. All of them feeling something unhook in their memories. Looking around, James counted heads. There were six of them. Obviously. Because that was how many people a telepad could move. He rattled off names, and was pretty sure the others were doing something similar. ¡°Oh bloody hell!¡± Anesh yelled. ¡°How did no one notice that! He took one of our bedrolls!¡± ¡°And all the flares, and a bunch of rope, and the spare drysuit¡­¡± Nik did a quick inventory. ¡°Aw, a whole thermos of coffee!¡± Arrush mimed eating, voice not able to carry over the wind but wanting to remind them of the food Ben had consumed, too. ¡°Shit.¡± James uttered. ¡°Okay. Gonna have to be on the lookout for that in the future. Typical college student; ate all our food then bounced.¡± He tried to make it into a joke. ¡°Are we still good to keep going?¡± ¡°Oh, for now, sure.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°But if we were planning to keep going tomorrow, I think we probably shouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Okay, let¡¯s move on. When we get to a campsite, we¡¯ll evaluate.¡± James got a round of nods from them. Shortly after, the wind relaxed, and they kept climbing. It wasn¡¯t long before James, leading their procession, noticed something of interest. To the left of the hill they were climbing, if they were to dip back down fifty feet or so, in among a small copse of trees, there was the familiar green glow of a traffic light reflecting off of the flat plane of white snow. On its own, that wasn¡¯t too strange. Or rather, relative to the dungeon so far, it wasn¡¯t too strange. They¡¯d seen a traffic light standing in the middle of nowhere before. But from their vantage point, James could see, slightly farther away, another one. And then a distant third, little more than a point of dim light shining through the snow. He paused, and pointed, making sure everyone else saw what he saw. Their line shifted. Together, they agreed. They should check that out. Descending a snowy slope was actually way harder than going up one. Unable to see where they were stepping, each movement had to be carefully probed out, lest it turn into a fall. They moved slowly, in pairs side by side. More than once, one of them had to steady or catch another. But they made it. And as they reached the foot of the hill they¡¯d just spent so long getting up, the wind even died down a little to congratulate them. The snowfall turning into just a thin dusting of flakes. ¡°There¡¯s another one over there.¡± Nik pointed in the opposite direction of where James had seen the other two traffic lights, as they stood near the base of the first one. It was still surreal, the metal pole jutting out of the snow at a slight angle, the light stuck on green, an unblinking and solid glow. ¡°And I think another farther back?¡± ¡°Oh yeah, I see it.¡± Alanna said, squinting into the distance. ¡°Looks like they kinda curve around. Wait, hang on¡­¡± ¡°This is a circle!¡± Anesh declared. ¡°The angles all match up! I mean, or it¡¯s just a line. But I think it¡¯s probably a circle!¡± James frowned at that. ¡°Okay, worrying.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Arrush had to lean in to hoarsely ask his question. ¡°Are circles¡­ bad?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh. Normally, no. But basically anything that¡¯s a pattern in a dungeon is deliberate, right? So, if it¡¯s a ring of traffic lights, then¡­ well¡­¡± ¡°What¡¯s it marking off?¡± Alex finished. James glanced over at her, noticed that she already had her weapon out. That was a good thought, James approved. He looked around at everyone. ¡°Alright. Arm up. Anesh, break out the coffee. We¡¯re gonna take this steady, and be ready for anything. Including anything from these trees dropping on us when we cross the line.¡± The group collectively unsheathed weaponry, and passed around their remaining two thermoses of reflex coffee. It was, having been reheated in the fire, still warm enough to trigger the speed bonus. And also to have enough caffeine to perk James up just a little bit. Arrush took the coffee last, sipping at it before making a face that could only be described as disgust, even on his inhuman face. ¡°Don¡¯t like coffee?¡± James asked. Arrush just made a wet noise, that was *probably* something rude, before gulping down the rest of the brew. Ready to go, they moved forward, Alanna and James taking point. They got three steps into the trees before there was a *twang*, and something whipped toward them. But *this time*, Alanna was ready for it. Planting her feet and getting her arms up, she took the hit from the fast moving branch head on, and the wood exploded into splinters as it hit her and failed to swat her aside. The stick creatures overhead hadn¡¯t waited to make sure their tripline trap actually worked, and were already dropping into a charge against the party. But this time, the delvers were ready, energized, and had spotted at least a few of the hiding places ahead of time. James and Alanna hunkered down while the others opened fire on the group of ambushers. By the time the stick things reached them, the two that lunged for them had far less backup than they probably expected, and James jolted forward to hack into the one coming for him with his axe with a vigor. And then, after a brief burst of violence, it was quiet again. Without the tactics of their traps and surprise on their side, the stick things weren¡¯t much of a threat to an armed team. Even their lack of vital points didn¡¯t stop a well placed bullet from taking one out entirely. They reloaded, while James wiped green blood off his axe. Anesh swearing a lot more when he learned that they¡¯d apparently given up a portion of their extra ammo, too. It was starting to almost seem worth it to go back and try to track down ¡®Ben¡¯ to get their stuff back. Maybe they¡¯d spend another night in the dorm after all. But for now, they pressed on into the center of the ring of traffic lights. The snow here was thinner on the ground. And they all walked a little easier as they realized that there was some kind of pavement underneath their feet. The ground much, *much* more stable to walk on than dirt and rocks. Around them, the landscape began to change. Plants that were obviously trimmed hedges, covered in snow but still showing some green, lined the edges of the brick walking paths. A few metal poles stuck out of the snow, not traffic lights but just normal lamps. In a large expanse pressed up against a boulder, what looked like a half buried riding lawnmower languished in disrepair. And at the center of the formation, what was almost comically the center of the traffic light ring, there was a bookshelf. A nice brown oak, the worn look of a loved antique. Also, encased in a clear block of ice that didn¡¯t seem to have done any damage to the object itself, or the single book sitting on its center shelf. ¡°Is this a trap?¡± Alex asked tentatively. ¡°I was gonna ask the same thing.¡± Nik said, while Arrush just growled softly at the back of their lineup. James and his partners all found themselves nodding appreciatively. ¡°Good call.¡± James said. ¡°That¡¯s good delver instincts right there.¡± ¡°Stuff like this is *usually* a trap.¡± Alanna told them. ¡°But also, usually treasure of some kind? So, we stay alert, and we¡­¡± She didn¡¯t get a chance to finish the sentence before the thing that James had assumed was a lawnmower stood up in an explosion of motion. Snow shook off in clumps as the creature rose, unfurling like a mechanical flower. It was made of gray stone and steel gears, liquid water dripping off it to freeze instantly as it touched the ground. It had a long neck, ending in a face with an extended maw that split open four ways to show off multiple rows of teeth. It stood on four legs like an unnatural cat, a sinuous tail of flexing stone whipping behind it with a long stinger on the end. Off its back, two sheet metal wings whirred as they flexed mechanical gears. Woven throughout its body, wooden branches and spurts of green leaves revealed themselves, the topiary either part of it, or so symbiotic it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°Dragon!¡± James howled. Before he was even done with the word, the creature - and it *was* a dragon - roared a challenge in return. Neck rearing back as it sucked in a deep breath, it whipped its head forward as the group just started to get their guns up, and screamed a burst of light at them. The beam swept over the delvers, James¡¯ vision going white as it hit him. He saw Alanna try to twist away, and Alex got a few shots off, but he was still fumbling for his own gun, and the goggles did absolutely nothing to stop the onslaught against his eyes. And then, it was gone, and he was fine. Actually, he was better than fine. He was somewhere incredible. Around him, the snow fell in crystalline fractal patterns. The wind brought perfectly chilled fresh air across his lips. Everything felt so perfect. He could barely contain his laugh as he sunk to his knees, marveling at the sound that snow made when you crunched it flat. The whole world felt like it was moving in slow motion, a sense of perfect awe filling him entirely. There was a car-sized dragon made of stone and wood and metal charging at him. The pale gray light seemed to glitter off the ice droplets it left behind as it loped forward. Its violence was majestic in its purity. James smiled up at it as it slid forward on its hind legs, raising a claw like a work of art into the air. Arrush took the claw on his flank, lunging forward to intercept it with his body. The humans had seen something, been affected by something, that he didn¡¯t understand. They were all laughing, or crying, dropped to their knees and staring blankly forward. The dragon hadn¡¯t paused, though, and had moved in for a kill without reservation. And so had Arrush. He was the last one standing. And, a feeling he didn¡¯t fully understand sparked to life in his gut as he watched the monster bear down on James. The knowledge that he had to act, because no one else would. A feral desire to throw back the creature that wanted to kill his¡­ friend? He would analyze that later. The dragon¡¯s claw slammed into Arrush¡¯s flank, metal tipped stone talons shredding through his climbing harness and drysuit, splattering dark green ichor across the snow and sending Arrush flying sideways. He slid across the ground, his fourth arm freed from its secure confines frantically snagging Alex¡¯s pistol as he rolled past her. Arrush had no firearms training, but he had seen enough. And like James had said; he was *very* adaptable. Noticing the figure that was still moving, the Dragon turned its attention on him, another howl like the wind of a storm blowing a curtain of light over his eyes. He charged through it, straight into the monster¡¯s maw that snapped closed when he was still ten feet away. The dragon looked almost surprised, leafy eyes regarding him oddly as it swept another claw his way. Arrush took it on a raised arm, the talons digging into his flesh with a spurt of pain and blood. Then, with his other two good arms, he grabbed on, and swung his feet off the ground. Wrapping his injured arm as tightly as he could around the dragon¡¯s own limb, Arrush experimentally hammered a series of strikes down at the first joint he found. Nothing gave, so he pulled himself further up, aiming to grab onto the creature¡¯s flank, as it realized what he was doing and started thrashing. That lotus maw snapped toward him, and Arrush shot it, the bullet eliciting a scream from the dragon, and breaking one of his manipulators from the recoil. But the bite never arrived as the dragon jerked backward, so he kept climbing, and shot it again. His own claws dug into soft wood, and he tore and tore, trying to rend something valuable apart. One of the dragon¡¯s wings dipped, just enough warning for him, as it slammed itself sideways to try to crush the ratroach on its back. Snow and grass and dirt went flying as the dragon tore up the frozen sod, but Arrush had already pulled himself up to its back, and rolled to the flank, dodging an incoming sting from the razor tipped tail. The dragon thrashed as he shot it repeatedly, bullets ricocheting away from the stone of its body, mostly, but one or two cracking into the joints he hit with it. Then, the magazine emptied, and the gun clicked. Arrush threw it into the dragon¡¯s fanged maw as it tried to twist to bite him again. His drysuit tore as he pulled himself up the dragon¡¯s back, fridgid air working in concert with blood loss to continue rapidly sucking away the life sustaining heat of his body. But he had enough time. The ratroach grabbed onto the base of the dragon¡¯s neck with both his weaker hands. Then two of his stronger arms pulled him up. Hand over hand, keeping a grip even as his limbs threatened to betray him to the cold, he hauled himself up to where a row of leaf covered acorn eyes stared at him, the animal instinct of the dragon sending it into a feral panic as he closed in. The dragon contorted, and Arrush felt something stab into his leg. But it was too late. Using his last free hand, he ripped what was left of his scarf away, the burned cloth fluttering away in the wind. He flexed his stomach, and a new feeling joined the protective urge in his chest. A much less pleasant feeling. Then he vomited directly into the dragon¡¯s face. It *screamed*, a wail like a dying machine, as Arrush followed up the corrosive bile with strike after strike from his balled fists. The stone melted under his assault, the creature¡¯s eyes popped like blown fuses. It thrashed, slamming its head into the ground to try to throw him. But all it did was let him use the momentum to hit it harder, one last punch crushing through a rusting metal skull and into something fluid and important. Arrush ripped out what he could. The dragon twitched, and then pitched sideways, its whole body crushing a swath of snow as it died instantly. He rolled off before it hit the ground. Took two steps. Then collapsed to his knees as one of his legs gave out. Alanna caught him before he fell, Nik¡¯s Authority coiling around the deepest of his wounds. Arrush heard shouting as the humans rose and surrounded him, but all he could hear was his own heartbeats. But at least he felt warm now. Then he closed his eyes, and let the darkness take over. ¡°Shit, he¡¯s going into shock.¡± Nik barked. ¡°We need to get him out of here. Now.¡± ¡°What the *fuck* was that!¡± Alanna bellowed, clutching her side where an errant strike had torn open her suit and flesh alike. ¡°What¡­ what was¡­¡± ¡°All I felt was¡­ fuck¡­ wonder?¡± James could barely breathe. ¡°What¡­ happened? What do we do?¡± Anesh took over as half their party had some reasonable panic. ¡°James! Get the book! Alex, go with him, watch for traps! Alanna! Telepad out, now! Nik, keep him stable for a minute longer!¡± That last command was redundant. Nik and Aidemy were already doing all they could. And, it turned out, orders didn¡¯t boost Authorities that much compared to just having a proper position. James and Alex sprinted for the bookshelf, where the ice was already cracking away with the death of its guardian. Alex watched his back while James broke off the rest of the ice. ¡°The book is blank.¡± He exhaled a curse as he reached for the text anyway. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Like, no title, no cover. It¡¯s just¡­¡± James hand made contact with the textbook, and suddenly, he wasn¡¯t there anymore. He wasn¡¯t anywhere, really. He was where choices were made. [What has brought you to this point?] It echoed in his head, and all around him. A simple question. What brought you here? He didn¡¯t even have to decide himself; it was multiple choice. Three answers surfaced through the swirling everything of thought. Was it his hiking ability? His skill at climbing? Or perhaps his prowess with the axe? Any of these were valid, all of these were choices. He should choose what this book would become, what this text would hold. From these thr- There was another choice. Unbidden, outside the pattern of this non-place, it hovered just within James¡¯ reach. On reflex, his mind quested for it, just to see what it was. And another thought entered his head. [Templating - Phone Book - New York] His first Skill. It was here, too. And there, nearby, [Origami]. [Recipe - Pancakes]. One by one, coming into view like a constellation of sparks. They flooded the field of options, laid out for him not by the guiding hand of the mysterious magical self-writing textbook, but by his own magic. From the very beginning to his latest Skill acquisition, all of his shell upgrades, all of his emotional resonances. And then, larger blots of choice above them; Aim, Agility, Endurance. The Lessons from the Sewer. And drifting away from here, spiraling out in streamers of concept, the two links he had to Anesh and Sarah. And his one Route Horizon spell. All of it. James wasn¡¯t really here. He couldn¡¯t grin, exactly. But he felt a deep satisfaction as he reached out and nudged at his second tier of Endurance. It had taken him so far. So many other potential fun options, sure. But who could say no to the ability to just¡­ keep going? He was back, holding the book on [Endurance II]. The title was twisted and written in a language he couldn¡¯t understand but was instantly recognizable. James had a moment of worry that *maybe* he shouldn¡¯t have done that. But they weren¡¯t here to waste time dawdling around. Turning around, he let Alex shove the book into his backpack, and the two of them sprinted as best they could through the thin snow back to where the others were waiting. ¡°Telepad¡¯s ready!¡± Alanna called, already linking arms with Anesh and Nik. James and Alex stepped up behind them, laying firm grips on their companion¡¯s shoulders, while Nik held on tightly to Arrush, who was still laying on the ground, unconscious but still breathing. ¡°We got the thing!¡± James informed them. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Alanna didn¡¯t hesitate. She tore the page, and the team vanished from the mountain, snapping into place in the same instant thousands of miles away. And as the occupants of the Lair scrambled to mobilize medical aid for the bleeding delvers, all six of them observe the same message freeze itself through their minds. [Cowardice. Deception. Murderers. Ascension : 1,982 ft. Bestowal : +11 Breath Storage, +1 Available Learning] James sagged in relief as a camraconda locked Arrush down, keeping him alive until real help could be brought to bear. Pulling down his mask and fumbling his goggles off, he helped a drained Anesh off the telepad, the two of them slinging their backpacks down onto the floor against the wall Around them, the Lair was going through a normal day. Though a lot of people had paused what they were doing to watch. James took a deep breath, and let the warmth of the real world seep back into his lungs, doing his best to ignore that his nose instantly started leaking with the temperature change. It was abrupt. But they were back. And they had lived. Hopefully. He took another breath. Leaned on Anesh. Closed his eyes and waited for the pumping adrenaline of nearly having died again to fade away. Then, after getting his heart rate under control, James nodded to himself, and followed after the direction that Alanna and Arrush had been taken to be patched up. Time to make sure everything was alright. They¡¯d see what the magic was tomorrow. Chapter 173 ¡°Do no harm, but take no shit.¡± - Moira Fowley-Doyle, Spellbook of Lost and Found - _____ ¡°How are they?¡± James asked. He was standing in a space that had once been, and still technically was, a containment and quarantine facility for people who were either under the effects of unknown memetic agents, host to novel infectious diseases, or who just wanted to kill James in some way. It was all clean white tile and bright lights. No shadows or blemishes, and no sense of lingering hostility either, which he appreciated. This place existed for a purpose, but that purpose didn¡¯t have to be *mean*. They had used it twice. It wasn¡¯t something that came up much. Three times, now, if you counted its apparently ongoing conversion to a well appointed medical facility. He was talking to Deb, who was currently sitting at the desk in the observation space, sipping lukewarm coffee and wincing as she couldn¡¯t stop smelling the ichor and blood that had been near her hands an hour ago. Her hair, kept perpetually short, was still pulled back in a tight bun to make absolutely sure it had kept out of her eyes and or patients, and she hadn¡¯t remembered to undo it yet. Her eyes looked tired. It was a feeling James emphasized with. ¡°Alanna is fine.¡± Deb started with, pushing the unpleasant coffee away and leaning back. ¡°She has a concussion, but the cuts weren¡¯t deep. Whatever threw her around was the problem, her super skin kept her from bleeding too much or losing a kidney.¡± James sighed in relief. ¡°I think it was more that it was just a glancing hit. If the thing had meant to nail her, it¡¯d be worse.¡± ¡°As with Arrush.¡± Deb pronounced the ratroaches name like a whisper, no hard r¡¯s involved, and James suddenly wondered if he¡¯d been butchering the name. She glanced up to the window of the observation chamber where her patient was currently sleeping. ¡°Two things you need to know about his physiology. First, he is *built to break*. If he wasn¡¯t, he¡¯d be dead already. He has between eighteen and thirty broken bones, depending on how you count, major blood loss, several lacerations that would have been lethal to a human, and also frostbite. And *yet*, he is still alive.¡± James followed her line of sight to where the ratroach was laying on the medical cot, breathing heavily, an IV drip feeding into his arm. ¡°What¡¯s the second thing?¡± He said softly. ¡°He¡¯s not meant to break painlessly. From everything I can tell, his species has incredibly dense nerve clusters. His skin, where he has it, would be able to feel tiny differences in temperature, or even wind speed, without any real focus on his part. Internally, he actually has the same kind of nerves that you have on your fingertips woven into his muscles and I *suspect* around organs. They are built to *feel pain*, James.¡± Deb closed her eyes, and held them that way for a long breath. ¡°And I didn¡¯t even notice before. I only just realized he was reacting, *while unconscious*, to being touched. Had to restrain him to sew up that hole in his side, even with anesthetic. I hate this. I¡­ ugh.¡± She made a small noise, deflating slightly into the chair. ¡°When did I become our doctor?¡± Deb whispered. ¡°I haven¡¯t even gotten my nursing certification and I¡¯m doing improv surgery.¡± ¡°But he¡¯ll live?¡± James asked, deciding to loop back to the personal crisis in a minute. Deb took a deep breath and nodded. ¡°Yeah. Nik and his authority kept him from losing too much blood - and it is blood, by the way, I was wrong about that and you don¡¯t need to call it ichor - and I have the majority of the breaks splinted. And his body is absurdly resistant to infection, especially when supplemented with antibiotics. I think it might be *eating* it, as stupid as that sounds. When he wakes up, there¡¯s a pile of purples with his name on it, too. Otherwise, I¡¯ll start looking into how to make casts, I guess.¡± ¡°Then that¡¯s why you¡¯re our doctor. I mean, that, and because we¡¯re starting to hit the point where a good majority of our members aren¡¯t human, and you are literally *the* leading medical expert on ratroach treatment.¡± James sighed, leaning his shoulders back against the wall by the door. ¡°So¡­ Good job!¡± Deb stared at him, head between her arms but no longer supported by them as she turned to give James an incredulous look, hands held open as if to say ¡®what the hell, dude¡¯. Before she could actually get into rattling off reasons why she was a bad pick for all of that, someone buzzed themselves through the security door to the observation room. Two people, actually. JP, and one guy James didn¡¯t recognize. Thin, hawkish nose, someone he hadn¡¯t actually seen around the Lair before. But he¡¯d been the one to buzz in, and JP was following him, so James didn¡¯t get up from his perch against the wall. The new guy made a beeline for Deb, and handed her a pair of folders, one thicker than the other and packed with documents of some kind. ¡°Thanks Aaron.¡± She said, tiredly. ¡°Is this everyone?¡± ¡°Yup. Except him?¡± The guy expertly raised a single eyebrow, like he practiced it, and jutted a thumb at James. ¡°That¡¯s your boss.¡± Deb said offhandedly as she started flipping through the smaller folder. ¡°Hey!¡± James protested. The new guy just looked awkward. ¡°Oh! Uh, sorry sir!¡± Was all he said, nodding once at Deb and then scurrying out of the room, holding the door for Anesh to follow in after him carrying a heavy backpack. ¡°What the heck was that about?¡± He asked, affectionately bumping shoulders with James. JP just grinned. ¡°I like him. Shows proper deference!¡± ¡°This is why we broke up.¡± Deb said without looking up. And then, as if suddenly catching up to what she¡¯d just said, snapped her head up with a horrified look on it. ¡°Wait, no, I mean¡­!¡± But JP¡¯s face had already cracked. Not the direction James had expected, though. His friend wore a massive grin, and it didn¡¯t take long for him to burst out laughing. A big, hearty laugh, like he¡¯d gotten used to being at ease and happy. ¡°Ha! Ah, yeah, that checks out, huh?¡± He said eventually, wiping at the corner of his eye. ¡°Hey. So, who¡¯s the new guy?¡± ¡°My assistant.¡± Deb was now hiding behind the folder, trying to cover up the bright red flush on her cheeks. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ fine. Smart, picks up stuff well. Good at using knowledge from yellows. But kind of a jerk, really. You know the kind, the sort of people who no one¡¯s ever said no to?¡± ¡°I honestly haven¡¯t met anyone like that.¡± James said. Everyone turned slowly to stare at him. ¡°What?¡± He asked. Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°Really?¡± He said. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t meet many people who¡­ oh, I mean, I guess you¡¯re counting everyone who tried to kill us?¡± Slowly, Anesh, and then the others, all nodded at him. ¡°Okay, well, yeah. I just mean they don¡¯t tend to work here.¡± Deb sighed. ¡°Yes, because exposure to this place changes us.¡± She intoned in a dramatic voice. Or, what she thought was a dramatic tone, anyway. Her voice cracked halfway through and she ended up covering a dry cough. ¡°Ugh. I¡¯m too tired for this.¡± Pivoting, she leveled a finger at Anesh. ¡°Why are you here?¡± ¡°Uh¡­! To¡­ talk to my boyfriend?¡± ¡°Good. You!¡± She turned her finger on JP. ¡°Here to request visiting hours for Keeka, and also to ask for medical advice for his sprained ankle.¡± James spoke before he could stop his mouth from opening. ¡°If you¡¯re teaching new people your ways, you shouldn¡¯t start with the sprained ankle thing.¡± JP didn¡¯t even turn as he flipped James off. But the grin on his face was still easy and unfazed. With a sigh, Deb lowered her finger. ¡°Same as for a human; keep weight off it, it¡¯ll heal over time. They *can* take ibuprofen, but *no aspirin*. Double the recommend dose, or it won¡¯t do anything. And I¡¯ll text you a list of times. Thanks for asking.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m trying something new.¡± JP said casually. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m out. You¡¯ve got my number. James, Anesh, good to see ya. Drop by sometime, help fight road monsters. Love the new tattoo.¡± James blinked. ¡°The new¡­¡± He raised his hand to where JP was pointing, before frowning and dropping his arm. ¡°I got poisoned by angry wood. Don¡¯t judge me.¡± JP cleared his throat. ¡°Ah. Well. Then I¡­ hate it? Or is it¡­ you know what? You do you.¡± He reclaimed his cheerful attitude, hastily pulling out a telepad he had obviously prepared earlier, and blinking away suddenly. The other three stared at where he¡¯d been a moment before. Deb spoke first. ¡°Is he¡­ okay?¡± Pushing himself off the wall, James rolled his eyes. ¡°He¡¯s overcompensating for everything he thinks he screwed up. But¡­ I dunno. That was weird.¡± ¡°It felt a lot more sincere.¡± Anesh commented. ¡°Did something happen to him?¡± ¡°Possible.¡± James admitted. ¡°People¡¯s lives go on when they¡¯re not on camera, you know.¡± ¡°How is the whole Townton thing going, anyway?¡± Deb asked. ¡°Sunny wanted to go check it out, but I¡¯m worried. Because, you know, everything to do with that.¡± She gestured idly at where JP had been. It had been going good, actually. James had spent the last four hours catching up on reports, and he was kind of surprised by how smooth it had been. Smooth relative to their normal lives, anyway. The majority of survivors had taken payouts from the Order to start new lives, handing over property rights to their destroyed homes. That, mixed with the Horizon cult also transferring ownership of the *many* properties they owned around the city had left them with actual, factual, legal ownership of most of the place. It did fall below the minimum population to actually be legally a city in Tennessee, though. Which made them¡­ something else. It was unclear. Their lawyer - they had a real lawyer now! - was trying to get them registered as an unincorporated township. But was running into the ongoing problem of the place not being remembered, or connected to any actual highways. Also there were still roving packs of asphalt and bone claw monsters that prowled the streets. They weren¡¯t spreading out into the wild areas around the city, as far as anyone had noticed; instead staying within a few hundred feet of asphalt at all times. But it was ¡®a problem¡¯ in a lot of ways. But JP and his group were making progress. Picking off the creatures - they called them necroads - recovering personal effects from destroyed homes to ship back to victims, and making sure that there weren¡¯t any leftover surprises from the Mechanic still around. Also looting. JP didn¡¯t call it looting, but they were looting. There were more than a few banks in Townton, and no one really felt like giving Bank of America their money back. James caught them up to speed while Deb half-listened and half-napped, and Anesh, having heard this before, slipped into Alanna¡¯s room to sit with her while she slept. ¡°I don¡¯t really get why you put JP in charge of that.¡± Deb said, shaking her head. ¡°I mean, he¡¯s not a bad guy or anything, but...¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James gave a bark of laughter. ¡°He put himself in charge, more or less! Again, he¡¯s trying to unfuck everything. Also¡­ okay, you know how he¡¯s absolutely ravenous for people to compliment him, and-¡° ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°...okay, wow, no hesitation, eh?¡± James chuckled again. ¡°Well, I think he¡¯s figuring out that he doesn¡¯t need to con anyone to get that.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s kinda fun. Reminds me of a sci-fi book series I read a while back, about a couple people with too much power and the emotional development of middle schoolers, trying to puzzle through why the people they governed were voting for them on purpose.¡± Deb stared at him. ¡°I understood all those words individually, but I think the wisdom coffee is wearing off.¡± ¡°Okay, yeah. Go to bed. It¡¯s¡­ like, almost midnight? Go sleep!¡± James insisted. In response, the beleaguered young surgeon nodded, and slowly lowered her head to the desk. ¡°Go to sleep in your bed.¡± James rephrased the statement more securely. ¡°Don¡¯t you have a permanent room here? Here, I¡¯ll help you walk if you need to.¡± ¡°No, no, ¡®m fine.¡± Deb insisted. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to leave Arrush here alone. Davis¡¯ll be here in an hour. I¡¯ll sleep then.¡± ¡°Davis? Why?¡± ¡°He was a med student for a few years before he switched majors in, like, the 80s.¡± Deb muttered. ¡°He¡¯s a decent guy. Good with patients.¡± ¡°I feel like I¡¯m gonna regret asking this, but how many injuries are you two dealing with around here?¡± James was suddenly concerned. Deb shrugged awkwardly from where she was slumped over. ¡°A few minor things a week. Research keeps causing small explosions, and the camracondas aren¡¯t used to living¡­ uh¡­ that¡¯s it. They aren¡¯t used to living. We need an actual dedicated space for this, or for local hospitals to clear up. And learn alien biology.¡± She paused. ¡°Also, don¡¯t forget that you need to get your arm looked at. Probably by someone with an X-ray they don¡¯t have to get someone to sneak you into.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation, at least around here, the hospitals *are* getting less overwhelmed.¡± James told her, deflecting from his own injury. ¡°Oh good.¡± Deb sarcastically bit off. ¡°Maybe soon the people who think medicine is a liberal communist Jewish hoax will stop getting in the way.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°You seem to have¡­ an opinion¡­?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna build a catapult that fires vaccinations.¡± Deb muttered sleepily. James covered his grin with a hand, closing his eyes and trying not to laugh at the exhausted woman who¡¯d saved the life of at least one member of the Order today. Glancing over, he saw Alanna awake and talking quietly to Anesh, and so he stepped back from Deb¡¯s makeshift pillow with similar quiet and slipped in the door to join them. ¡°Hey.¡± Alanna said upon seeing him. ¡°We fucked up.¡± ¡°Hello to you too.¡± James said, going for a more traditional greeting. ¡°How ya feeling?¡± ¡°My head hurts.¡± Alanna said bluntly. ¡°Probably something to do with the part where I hit a boulder with my head. I¡¯m still waiting on the doc¡¯s opinion on that one. Did the boulder make it?¡± Anesh shifted his chair over, giving James some room to stand. ¡°It¡¯s pretty bad.¡± He told James with a tone that indicated he wasn¡¯t at all serious, ignoring Alanna¡¯s question. ¡°She¡¯s talking like you when you¡¯re in a comedy mood. The head trauma must be extensive.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± James and Alanna both said at the same time, giving their boyfriend mock glares. But James couldn¡¯t keep up the joking forever. He took a deep breath, and let it out along with a lot of the tension he¡¯d been feeling. Of the two people seriously hurt, at least now he had proof half of them were reasonably okay. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s not do that again for a while.¡± ¡°Yeah, especially until we undo our fuckup.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Because it wasn¡¯t the dra¡­ okay, it wasn¡¯t *entirely* the dragon.¡± Anesh looked between the two of them as James started nodding. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± ¡°Arrush.¡± James said, trying and failing to pronounce it like Deb had. He couldn¡¯t get the r¡¯s right. ¡°We didn¡¯t¡­ we just assumed that because we¡¯d seen him fight a couple times, he was competent in the same way we¡¯ve been training ourselves and the rest of the Order to be. And¡­¡± ¡°And we fucked up.¡± Alanna said again. ¡°He saved our lives, but holy shit, did you see how he fought?¡± ¡°Graphically.¡± Anesh said. ¡°But I¡¯m actually not as battle hardened as you two. What am I missing?¡± James closed his eyes, tilting his head down as he answered in a soft voice. ¡°He fought like he didn¡¯t expect to live through it.¡± He said. ¡°He wasn¡¯t trying to survive. He was trying to kill his target. And maybe it was just the only thing he had as an option, but¡­ no.¡± He looked back up and met Anesh¡¯s eyes. ¡°He threw himself away like he was expendable. And before we let him, or Keeka, or *any* of the others we¡¯ll inevitably rescue from there get involved with any kind of delving activity, we need to make damn sure we actually go through real training with them. And also therapy.¡± ¡°Do ratroaches respond to therapy?¡± Alanna muttered, sinking back into her pillow. ¡°They seem more alien than we¡¯ve run into so far.¡± ¡°I think the problem,¡± James told her, ¡°is that they¡¯re not alien at all. They¡¯re reacting like abuse victims are. We¡¯re seeing high levels of trauma in action. And we absolutely shouldn¡¯t have taken Arrush into the field. I suspect that he came along in part because he thought it was required of him to stay with us, even though I told him otherwise. Because¡­ well.¡± ¡°Because you can¡¯t believe people once you¡¯ve spent long enough being lied to by your mom.¡± Alanna answered. James and Anesh both looked at her, thin frowns on their faces and sympathetic hurt in their eyes. ¡°Parents. Dungeon. Whatever.¡± Alanna tried to wave it off. ¡°Ugh. I¡¯m dizzy. I need to sleep.¡± ¡°Yeah. Good call.¡± James said, leaning down to gently kiss her on the part of her forehead that wasn¡¯t a massive bruise. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta go talk to Reed, if he¡¯s even here.¡± ¡°Oh, before you go.¡± Anesh leaned down and unzipped the backpack he¡¯d been hauling around, revealing a row of textbook spines. Most of them battered, slightly waterlogged, and otherwise damaged. ¡°Want a rundown of the dungeon¡¯s power?¡± ¡°It has been *two hours*.¡± James spoke with resignation. ¡°Is this Nik? Did Nik just start cramming more magic into his face?¡± ¡°Surprisingly, yes.¡± Anesh said. ¡°But don¡¯t think too badly of him, I asked, and we had backup around.¡± He sat back, not bothering to pull the books out of the bag. ¡°Each of these corresponds to a skill. Not specifically a college course or anything, but there¡¯s a lot of overlap. For whatever reason, we all have one slot for them that we got when we left. *I* think it¡¯s because we killed the dragon, but it might be something else. Anyway. The books contain a single power that resonates with the skill it lists. You *do* get a chance to refuse if you want, and a little advance knowledge, which is nice. The books-¡° ¡°Yeah, dang, how often do the dungeons actually ask for informed consent?¡± James cut in. Then, seeing Anesh glowering at him, held up his hands placatingly. ¡°Sorry! Carry on!¡± ¡°...the *books*, James, are reusable.¡± Anesh switched back to his normal lecture tone. ¡°Same power every time. What am I forgetting?¡± ¡°Do the powers cost anything, and is it blood?¡± Alanna said, not opening her eyes from the bed. Anesh nodded. ¡°Yes, and no. Breath. As in, the pool we¡¯ve already gotten. But *here¡¯s the thing* that makes it a problem. When you spend your Breath mana, or whatever we¡¯re gonna call it, it apparently feels like it¡¯s sucking the actual air out of your lungs. Along with a drop in internal temperature. And that¡¯s not just a feeling; it *does* make you colder.¡± ¡°That might be useful, actually.¡± James said. ¡°As far as side effects go. We could go to California!¡± ¡°We already go to California. Regularly.¡± Anesh looked confused. ¡°We could go *outside* in California, and not just an air conditioned office!¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Anyway. Nik and Alex picked already. Nik took the anatomy book, and got a power that lets him replenish blood with ice, snow, or cold enough water. I think he¡¯s actually trying to end up as a healer. Alex took the Endurance book you¡­ I guess made? It¡¯s weird. Oh, also, no idea if the books being damaged makes them less effective.¡± ¡°What do we have? I might save my slot.¡± Alanna muttered. ¡°Go to sleep!¡± James bopped her on the nose. ¡°This can all wait!¡± Anesh answered her anyway. ¡°Human anatomy, spatial geometry, civil architecture, the Endurance one, early history of Australian Aboriginal peoples, and one that¡¯s got a damaged title but I¡¯m pretty sure is just industrial workplace safety. Got a preference?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know.¡± James said. ¡°Doubling up on Endurance tempts me. I¡¯ll talk to Alex first, though.¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. From the door to the room, a raspy voice called their attention. ¡°Architecture, please.¡± James snapped his head up to see Arrush, IV stand dragging behind him, wearing nothing but his fur and a half ton worth of bandages and splints, standing and barely supporting himself against the doorframe. ¡°Jesus Christ! Get back in bed! What are you *doing*!?¡± He rushed over, Anesh shoving his chair back behind him and keeping up. As gently as possible, remembering what Deb had said, James looped an arm under one of Arrush¡¯s main limbs, and tried to support as much of the ratroach¡¯s weight as he could. ¡°Come on, carefully now.¡± He moved slowly, linking hands with Anesh to support Arrush¡¯s back, and guiding him back to his bed. Deb spotted them as they did so, jerking awake with a snort, eyes widening in alarm and the kind of fury a doctor manifested when you started trying to walk on a broken splinted leg. With her help, and under her guidance, they get Arrush laying back down. ¡°...And *stay there*!¡± Deb finished her command as they got him settled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to tie you down, but we *will* if you do this again! You need to heal, and you can¡¯t do that if you¡¯re stressing your fractures and breaks even more! So *stay here!*¡± She stalked off, leaving Arrush breathing heavily and James standing next to his bed, while Anesh gave them space. ¡°Hey.¡± James said. ¡°How ya doing?¡± He quietly asked their newest team member. ¡°Hurt.¡± Arrush said. ¡°I heard¡­ you.¡± James nodded. ¡°Figured. How much? Just the books, or¡­?¡± ¡°I am¡­ a problem¡­¡± Arrush heaved out the words, speaking taking a lot of effort with his broken ribs, but with a resigned note to his speech regardless. ¡°That¡¯s not how people work.¡± James told him, reaching forward and almost setting a hand on Arrush¡¯s shoulder. But then, he stopped at the last second, and withdrew. ¡°You¡¯re different. New. We need to adjust, and we didn¡¯t. We¡¯ll all do better next time, okay? We¡¯re mad at *ourselves*, not at you. For not doing what we should have done.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± ¡°Yeah, mmh.¡± James snorted. ¡°So stop thinking you need to make yourself useful, or push past your breaking point. Sit here, rest. We¡¯ll get you a stack of purples for accelerating the process, if you want them. Keeka will be here tomorrow to stay with you, probably. If you get bored, I¡¯ve got books to loan you.¡± ¡°Architecture.¡± Arrush restated. ¡°If you want.¡± James¡¯ voice was sad. ¡°You really don¡¯t need to worry about that right now.¡± The ratroach looked up at him with all six of his slightly asymmetrical eyes. The beady points blinked at James, before turning as best he could to look away. ¡°Want to.¡± Arrush said slowly, measuring his breath and words. ¡°You¡­ keep talking¡­ about building¡­ things. Cities.¡± He sucked in a harsh breath, and continued. ¡°They sound¡­ beautiful. The one I have¡­ seen¡­ is¡­ beautiful. I want to¡­ build things¡­¡± He trailed off, and it took James a minute to realize that he had fallen asleep, and was snoring softly. ¡°I know the feeling.¡± He whispered, turning and softly pulling the door open to duck back out of the room. ¡°He¡¯s asleep.¡± He told Deb, before noticing that she, too, was napping. From the other room, Anesh gave him a wave, and a nod to a sleeping Alanna. ¡°Okay, everyone¡¯s asleep.¡± He smiled to himself a little. Truth be told, he could go for some sleep himself. There was a small amount of his brain, currently, that was devoted to keeping him focused and moving from task to task. Which was important, because other parts of his brain were mostly engaged in silent screaming, and sleep seemed like a great idea on how to shut them up. Part of him was still, again, grappling with how close they¡¯d come to death, the situation turning in an instant to something less adventure and more execution. Part of him was revolted by the fact that he¡¯d had his perception, and his inner thoughts, hijacked and twisted by the awe beam the dragon had hit them with. Part of him, a smaller part this time, was just in an ongoing state of panic over his general responsibilities to the Order. All of those parts of his brain were running out the clock on his mental energy, and he hadn¡¯t actually gotten any sleep between the several hours of exploration and multiple dangerous battles to the death, and now. So maybe a nap was in order. Or maybe just lunch. It was after midnight, so Nate probably wasn¡¯t in the kitchen to get annoyed at James for using the flat top to fry a bunch of potatoes. Slowly, the screaming parts of his brain rotated, and locked into agreement with him. Yes, yes, death was scary and being mentally co-opted was bad. But potatoes sounded good right now. And Anesh was here to keep an eye on things. So, everyone was going to be okay, and he could just take some time to himself. He got four steps out the door before Reed caught up with him. ¡°Hey! I got your message. You have some questions?¡± ¡°Why are you even *here*?¡± James asked. ¡°It¡¯s late!¡± ¡°...none of us have ever been on normal schedules and you know it.¡± Reed confusedly rebutted. ¡°Anyway. What¡¯s going on? Everything alright?¡± James sighed. ¡°Okay, walk with me. I¡¯m gonna go make food. I¡¯m starving.¡± He started walking through the basement, to the overly elaborate mezzanine, and onto the elevator up to the ground floor. It was late enough he didn¡¯t have to wait long, and he sort of idly listened to Reed talk while they were moving. A short jump later, the elevator doors dinged open, and James, still being trailed by their head of Research, took long and mostly steady steps around a couple corners back to the dining area and the swinging doors to the kitchen. ¡°...Anyway, it¡¯s mostly just a quick test to see how people approach problems.¡± Reed said. ¡°People who don¡¯t think too hard are just gonna list names of people to shoot. But anyone with a little imagination will ignore the gun entirely. So¡­¡± ¡°Reed, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ve been thinking about blood this whole time.¡± James admitted, cutting him off. ¡°For magic reasons. Not just¡­ you know what? I will not be explaining. Can you just repeat that? Sorry.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not actually the important thing.¡± Reed looked a little ashamed to admit that, standing awkwardly by the service counter while James found a bag of red potatoes and a knife. ¡°It¡¯s a time travel question, just kind of something I found amusing recently.¡± James nodded as he started washing potatoes. ¡°I get little questions like that in my head all the time. Or, like, exchanges from the internet, that I want to share? Yeah.¡± ¡°Anyway. I don¡¯t actually have anything proactive to report.¡± Reed told him, fidgeting with one of the coffee makers over in the front of the kitchen. ¡°Did you need to talk to me about anything?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said, mentally bracing himself. ¡°Did you know that Nikhail was using the shaper substance from the Akashic Sewer on himself?¡± He asked directly, knife making punctuation marks for him as it snapped into the cutting board. There was a pause. Not a long one, but enough. ¡°No?¡± Reed lied. James bisected the last potato he was chopping, let it fall to the cutting board, and looked up with raised eyebrows. ¡°Okay, yes!¡± Reed cracked. ¡°Yeah, I knew! But it was important to him, and I wasn¡¯t gonna say no! I¡¯m *terrible* at saying no, and you put me in charge of research proposals! You knew this would happen!¡± ¡°Wow, okay, lot to unpack there.¡± James looked back down and with a few quick slices turned the potato halves into chunks. ¡°First off, I didn¡¯t put you in charge, you did that yourself. Second of all, you say no all the time, and you could have done it here. Second and a half, you *could* have said yes, but done it in a controlled, safer way. Third¡­ this one is important. Please remember that we are going for a blameless culture around here. I want problems solved, not people punished, okay?¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± Reed¡¯s voice trembled. ¡°Okay. Yeah, sorry. I did know, I thought it would work out, and I didn¡¯t want to say no and alienate Nik.¡± ¡°And the problem with¡­ hang on, I have the message from Deb here¡­¡± James slid his pile of potato cubes into a metal bowl, wiped his hands off, and pulled out his phone, doing a quick search for what he was looking for. ¡°Ah, here it is. The problem with ¡®overwhelming and debilitating pain, during a time where mental focus is critical, and errors could be lethal¡¯. How were you planning to address that?¡± ¡°I hadn¡¯t actually seen that.¡± Reed said quietly. ¡°Wait, Nik¡­ no. No no. That¡¯s not¡­¡± He shook his head, wide eyed. ¡°I knew it hurt, yeah, but not that it could¡­¡± He trailed off, and James sighed. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve already talked to Nikhail about this.¡± He said. ¡°And while I am *very disappointed* that he¡¯s three of our examples of recklessly causing issues with dangerous magic, I¡¯m not actually mad. This mostly just highlights that what we need is to actually check in with each other. This largely comes down to being a miscommunication. So in the future, if something like this comes up, please either talk to whoever it is, or come to me or someone else in our community to do it. Okay?¡± ¡°I can do that, yeah.¡± Reed still looked shaken. ¡°I think I can put aside being socially awkward if someone could die.¡± ¡°I mean, that¡¯s the thing. You didn¡¯t know that was on the table here, right? It¡¯s gotta be more proactive than that.¡± James shrugged as he dumped a half cup of garlic powder into his bowl of potatoes. ¡°What I want, here, and to spread the idea of, is that a community of compassion is possible and working. And part of that means, yeah, we need to care about each other more than we worry about being vulnerable. And I *know*, believe me, I absolutely know how hard that is. But if we keep doing it, it¡¯ll get easier. And then we can drag more and more people into our way of things.¡± ¡°Your way of things is terrifying for an introvert with anxiety, though.¡± ¡°I *am* an introvert with anxiety! So I know!¡± James grinned in reply. Reed rolled his eyes, and was about to refute that point, when the kitchen doors swung open and Karen walked in with that confident stance she always seemed to be in. That kind of motion that sung of ¡®I am here for a reason, please let me through¡¯. Polite, but assertive. It fit her more than when she¡¯d first joined, and James appreciated the shift. ¡°Ah, you are here.¡± Karen said as James dumped his bowl of potatoes onto the heated and oiled flat top. ¡°Good.¡± ¡°I¡­ yes, I am here. In the kitchen, where I am not reliably found. Why did you say that like it was obvious?¡± James paused, then cocked the spatula in his hand at her, shifting so he didn¡¯t accidentally touch the hot surface next to him. ¡°Wait a minute, why are *you* here? It¡¯s almost one AM, and you¡¯re a normal adult!¡± Karen scoffed. ¡°Please. None of us are normal adults. And I¡¯m here to ask you for a quick inventory of any potentially useful resources you discovered.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± James smiled knowingly. ¡°Okay. Uh, honestly? Nothing. We found some fruit that cools things down, but I don¡¯t know if spreading an invasive species is the right way to fight global warming. In fact, now that I¡¯ve said that out loud, I¡¯m sure it isn¡¯t.¡± He shrugged. ¡°There might be some valuable mineral wealth underneath it, but we didn¡¯t go digging or spelunking. Actually, a shocking lack of caves in there. So unless you want to harvest snow, ice, wind, or concrete, you¡¯re out of luck.¡± ¡°Sorry, concrete?¡± Reed butted in. ¡°There¡¯s buildings. I¡¯ll have a briefing ready for *tomorrow*.¡± James pointed at both of them in turn. ¡°Not gonna do it now. I¡¯m having breakfast.¡± ¡°That actually smells really good. Is that rosemary?¡± Reed shuffled closer and leaned over the grill before jerking back as James swatted at him with a towel. ¡°Alright, fine! Keep your potatoes! I wasn¡¯t hungry anyway!¡± ¡°I made enough to share expecting this. Sorry, Karen, was there anything else? I really don¡¯t have any useful material stuff from this one.¡± James tried to get back on track. ¡°Not overly concerning.¡± Karen sounded perfectly at ease with the news. ¡°Well, I won¡¯t take too much of your time. But I should update you on a couple things. First, I¡¯d like to look into selling the Route Horizon rubber. I believe we could get an unreasonably high price for it from a number of different companies.¡± ¡°How many of those companies are weapons manufacturers in some way?¡± James asked casually. ¡°From a smaller, but still large, pool of potential buyers.¡± Karen edited her speech on the fly without a stutter. ¡°Similarly, we should look into selling samples of the selectively radioactive fluid from the Akashic Sewer. There are a number of potential applications that I think are valuable to explore with more dedicated professional research teams.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Reed chimed in. And then, thinking about it, shrugged and added, ¡°Actually, that¡¯s fair. We¡¯re basically powered by necessity and orb skills.¡± He admitted. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it. Actually, no, wait.¡± James held up a hand to correct himself. ¡°*We will talk about it*, and then make a community decision. Because I need to remember that I¡¯m not in charge here, and we need to get used to distributed leadership.¡± He took a breath, and nodded at Karen, who returned the gesture. ¡°But also, thank you for the updates.¡± He flipped his breakfast over on the grill, poking a chunk of potato with the edge of his spatula. ¡°Do you want some food?¡± He asked. ¡°I made extra.¡± The look on Karen¡¯s face was the perfect picture of someone trying to avoid eating things that were just starch, oil, and seasoning, but who *really wanted* to eat those things now that she could smell them cooking at close range. ¡°No thank you.¡± The words were pained, but confident regardless. ¡°Though I do have one question for you, before I go.¡± ¡°Sup?¡± Karen held up her hand, the back facing James, to show off a small circular mark on her index finger. ¡°Recently, I shared one of the Ascent¡¯s bonds with my daughter.¡± She explained. ¡°But¡­ I don¡¯t seem to be able to¡­ I don¡¯t know what the term would be. Unlock it? Connect it?¡± Karen lowered her hand and looked down at her fingers. ¡°We aren¡¯t strangers to each other. I love my child, and I want her to be safe. So I was wondering if you might know why this wasn¡¯t working.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Reed perked up. ¡°I can actually answer that one!¡± ¡°Can you answer it in a way that isn¡¯t¡­ uh¡­¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Terrible?¡± ¡°All of my answers aren¡¯t terrible.¡± Reed earnestly defended himself. ¡°Anyway. We¡¯ve actually got a pretty decent data set for the relationsticks now, and¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s such a good name.¡± James cut in. ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s all, carry on. I¡¯ll shut up.¡± He cleared his throat and looked back at the browned potatoes as Karen glowered him into silence. Reed also looked back at Karen from his slightly less effective glare at James. ¡°The point is, it looks like the people need to experience the same emotion at the same time. I¡¯d tentatively say it also needs to be from the same source. So, when you and Liz are together, even if you¡¯re both feeling what you¡¯d call ¡®love¡¯ for each other, you¡¯re loving her as a parent and she¡¯s loving you as a daughter, and that¡¯s not the same. My brother and I actually had a similar-ish problem with this.¡± He held up his own hand to show his own unconnected corridor mark. ¡°Just being family doesn¡¯t mean we see things the same way. Hell, it seems like it makes it *harder*.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s probably not impossible. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s nearly as easy as it is for everyone else.¡± ¡°Damn.¡± Karen said simply. ¡°That actually explains why it took Anesh and I so long.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯re close, but we¡¯re¡­ I dunno, we experience a lot of things differently. It took us a long time to drop our guard, even after we started dating. Even if it¡¯s easy for you, Liz probably has a hard time being vulnerable around you, right?¡± He shrugged. ¡°I always did around my parents. And I love them. That didn¡¯t make it easy to tell them things. Hell, I never actually got around to coming out to them before¡­¡± He trailed off. The memory of his parent¡¯s disappearance still wasn¡¯t easy to cope with. Then, the smell of slightly singed potatoes reached his nose, and he snapped back to the moment, latching onto the crisis at hand and frantically killing the heat and scooping his breakfast onto a trio of plates. ¡°I may have a lead on them.¡± Karen said. ¡°But I didn¡¯t want to raise your hopes.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve mostly assumed that I¡¯ll never have them back.¡± James admitted as he passed Reed a smaller portion, sending him off in search of a fork. ¡°They¡¯re not gonna remember me. And I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯d be safe for them to. I mostly just want to know they¡¯re safe, and alive. You know?¡± ¡°I can appreciate that.¡± Karen nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know if we find anything.¡± ¡°Alright. I¡¯m gonna take this to Anesh, and then get some sleep.¡± James said. ¡°Sure you don¡¯t want one?¡± Karen stared at the offered plate for a good ten seconds, before she precisely reached out, and plucked a single small chunk of fried red potato off the top, and popped it in her mouth, either ignoring or immune to the heat. She closed her eyes as she chewed. ¡°That.¡± She said. ¡°Is delicious.¡± ¡°Want some more?¡± James offered. ¡°I can split this.¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Karen told him, wiping her hands on a towel. ¡°I will speak more with you tomorrow.¡± She added, holding the door for him as he headed back downstairs. ¡°Sometimes,¡± James confided in Reed as the two of them reentered the elevator, ¡°I am really jealous of how she gets to talk like a 1920¡¯s matriarch.¡± ¡°You could do that to. Who¡¯s gonna stop you?¡± Reed posited. He wasn¡¯t carrying a plate anymore; at some point between James handing him his portion and leaving the kitchen the food having been devoured. James just rolled his eyes, giving Reed a polite nod as the two of them split up from the elevator¡¯s entrance. Reed back to¡­ something. Whatever he was working on. And James back to feed his boyfriend. Buzzing himself in probably announced his presence, but he still caught Anesh by surprise with a still steaming plate of seasoned potatoes under his nose. ¡°Here.¡± James said, offering him a fork. ¡°Eat.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh, thank you.¡± Anesh looked like he was about to drift off himself. ¡°Do you have any hot sauce?¡± ¡°Any¡­ what? No. What?¡± James looked down at what he¡¯d cooked. ¡°You mean ketchup?¡± ¡°No, I mean, hot sauce. Not tabasco, either; something with less vinegar.¡± Anesh stated. ¡°For flavor.¡± James gave him an offended blink. ¡°I put enough garlic on these to drown someone.¡± He said flatly. ¡°Just saying, I bet someone in Research has some hot sauce.¡± ¡°I will check,¡± James said with a tired smile, ¡°because I love you. But I promise nothing, and I¡¯m not going back upstairs.¡± He ducked back out of the hospital area, holding the door for Davis to stroll in behind him and wake Deb up. ¡°Hey!¡± James called out to the few people who were still working or goofing around in the Research floor area. ¡°Does anyone here, by some miracle, have hot sauce?¡± ¡°Oh, I do.¡± Chevoy called back from under the desk she was running a power cable through. Momo, who had been walking by as James had asked, also stuck her head out of the hallway. ¡°Yeah, and there¡¯s the fridge in the corner there. It¡¯s got ketchup in it.¡± ¡°First of all, why?¡± James asked, then waved his hand. ¡°No, nevermind. Just¡­ can I have some hot sauce? I don¡¯t need to ask questions right now. Thank you.¡± He followed where Chevoy was pointing to her own personal work station, covered in an ongoing assembly project of something he didn¡¯t understand. And, sure enough, a small bottle labeled ¡®End Times Hot and Spicy¡¯. James didn¡¯t know if this was a dungeon thing, or a hot sauce fandom thing, but either way, he tipped the bottle to Chevoy thankfully and went back to deliver it to Anesh. As his exhausted boyfriend had something breakfast-adjacent, James excused himself, and left him and Alanna to their quiet time. A quick check showed Arrush was now *actually* sleeping. And Deb had stumbled out to her own bed, leaving an almost comically perky Davis behind in replacement. ¡°Morning, sir.¡± The older man greeted James with a raised cup of something hot and delicious smelling. James shook his head. ¡°Oh yeah, no, no one calls me that.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t run from it forever.¡± Davis pointed out. ¡°How was the mountain?¡± ¡°Cold.¡± James said, enjoying the idle conversation. Davis had this kind of way about him, the balding old guy with the friendly face who just had a way of putting even an anxiety ridden mess like James at ease during a conversation. ¡°I¡¯ll go over it more tomorrow. Probably gonna spend the whole day answering questions, just take it easy before the next crisis, you know?¡± ¡°Hah! Yeah, that¡¯s how we live now, isn¡¯t it?¡± Davis gave a wry smile. ¡°Well. I¡¯ll pester you about that tomorrow. But if you¡¯ve got a minute now¡­¡± James muttered an interruption. ¡°People keep saying that to me.¡± ¡°...I can wait?¡± Davis politely offered, already knowing the answer. ¡°No, no, I¡¯m curious now. Hit me.¡± James took a dramatic breath and braced himself for bad news. Davis gave a nervous chuckle. He was adapting to the Order, but sometimes, he still didn¡¯t know how he fit into the social structure here. ¡°Well. I wanted to ask about the new baths¡­¡± ¡°Ah. Yeah, how¡¯s that going for everyone? I¡¯m concerned about how people are gonna react to the idea of a communal bathhouse like that. Could you maybe set up a survey or something?¡± ¡°I actually have an intern for that now.¡± Davis admitted guiltily. ¡°But yes. It¡¯s strange, I don¡¯t know if I like it, but I see what you¡¯re going for. I won¡¯t tell you you¡¯re wrong, because historically, around here, that phrase ends up with me eating crow. But! My own discomfort about flapping in the breeze around my coworkers aside, I had a question about the magic.¡± ¡°Which part?¡± James asked. ¡°The¡­ wait, what magic is even in there?¡± He rubbed idly at the wooden growth on his face, itching at the edge of it. ¡°I know the camracondas helped build it, but I think the whole thing is mundane?¡± ¡°The water purification system isn¡¯t, actually.¡± Davis reminded him. James snapped his fingers, then realized how loud that had been in the enclosed space of echoing tile, and winced. He quieted his voice down, too, as he kept talking. ¡°Yeah, the brooch! That thing is neat. What about it?¡± ¡°Well, it purifies the entire pool, yes?¡± ¡°One segment of it.¡± James answered easily. ¡°It actually caps out at around fourteen thousand gallons, which I think was a consideration when Bill designed the place. That said, this is a copy, and we don¡¯t know if it scales up as it levels up.¡± Davis nodded. ¡°Right. Okay. So, we should make more copies of this then.¡± ¡°...What for?¡± ¡°Well, I have some rough math here.¡± Davis flipped open the small notebook he carried with him at all times, revealing an arcane scrawl that would put most wizard¡¯s spellbooks to shame. ¡°Two days per charge, scaling down by two hours per level, which is workable. We can fairly rapidly get that down to a day and a half. At that point, you¡¯re looking at one of these being able to provide for the clean water needs of roughly two hundred people a day, and the numbers only get better as it advances. Not to mention they¡¯re small, and easily copied. We could, without much effort, radically improve the lives of a lot of people with this.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± James brain whirred as he processed that. ¡°Wait, yeah, hang on. I was gonna say this isn¡¯t as impactful as an anti-cancer orb, but these don¡¯t go away, do they? They keep adding value, forever. Oh, dear. I didn¡¯t think of that.¡± ¡°Well, to be fair to you, I don¡¯t think anyone considered that one of these could turn a swimming pool into drinkable water.¡± Davis replied. ¡°Until Bill did it, and no one realized what that meant.¡± ¡°Okay. Okay, yes. First off, Bill¡¯s getting a raise.¡± James nodded to himself, then cocked a finger at Davis as he started to raise a hand. ¡°Yes, you get a raise too. Or something, we¡¯ll figure it out. Uh¡­ wait, no no no, there¡¯s a potential problem with this.¡± James had a grim thought. Davis wasn¡¯t actually ahead of him, but assumed he was. ¡°I admit, the fact that it¡¯s a point of vulnerability is an issue. They¡¯re easy to steal, or lose. But unless they¡¯re destroyed, they don¡¯t go away, and we can make more at a decent rate. I think it¡¯s worth accepting that loss, though we¡¯ll need to put safeguards on to make sure it doesn¡¯t end up monopolized.¡± ¡°Actually, no.¡± James shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m mostly thinking that we need to unlock at *least* one more power on them first. Maybe two, to be safe. Because if we do this, they will all eventually get there. And if one of those powers is ¡®kill people¡¯...¡± ¡°...Oh.¡± Davis deflated. ¡°Christ, didn¡¯t think of that.¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a bit grim.¡± James said. ¡°But still. Good idea. We¡¯ll keep an eye on the thing. Actually, go check in with Knife-In-Fangs when you get a chance. He¡¯s got the primary one, and he uses it *constantly*.¡± ¡°Alright, I can do that.¡± Davis nodded. ¡°Well, that was all I had. Don¡¯t let me keep you.¡± ¡°Heh. Yeah, all I¡¯m doing is sleeping until my muscles don¡¯t ache anymore.¡± James gave a friendly wave. ¡°Keep an eye on them, okay?¡± ¡°Absolutely, sir.¡± Davis nodded seriously, and turned back to his watch on the two makeshift hospital rooms. James grumbled about it, but figured it wasn¡¯t worth fighting over as he left. He was still smiling though, as he made his way to the elevator so he could loop back around to the residential basement. It had been a good week, so far. Their team had survived the mountain, come away stronger for it, and maybe found some cool stuff on top of that. And everyone in the Order was¡­ well, getting into the flow of things. Growing together, forming ideas, trying new things. James was aware that what they had here was fragile. But he wasn¡¯t operating without some kind of plan. He wanted to build a world that worked a little better, and the Order was his proof of concept. A place where emotional maturity was fostered, vulnerability was shared, and people worked together for each other. And then, slowly, they could drag more and more people into it, converting them to this bizarre way of life. But right now, no matter how tired he felt, James didn¡¯t feel fragile. And neither did the Order. He was smiling as the elevator doors slid open. And then, he had to work really hard to keep that smile as one of the new engineers sprinted to catch the door and joined him in the cab. ¡°Okay!¡± Mars panted. ¡°Sorry to bother you! Do you know where the paperweight that can¡¯t move in one direction is? Because I think I can build a space elevator with, like, a few of those.¡± He had the look of a person in the process of overcoming the barrier of feeling awkward asking their boss for something for the first time. ¡°It¡¯s two AM.¡± James protested weakly. ¡°I haven¡¯t gone more than twenty four hours since a near death experience. I am very tired, have to do fifteen things tomorrow, and I just realized I gave my breakfast to my boyfriend.¡± Mars nodded eagerly, though his face fell as he processed what James had said. ¡°Ah.¡± He cleared his throat, looking at the now-closed elevator doors behind him. Trapped in an awkward situation for the next twenty second long eternity. ¡°So¡­ no space elevator?¡± James took a deep breath. Let it out. Closed his eyes and tilted his head. ¡°I will see if I can find it for you.¡± He said, calmly. Because at the end of the day, tired or not¡­ He really wanted to see where this was going. Chapter 174 ¡°Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much, and feel too little! More than machinery, we need humanity; more that cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities life will be violent, and all will be lost¡± -Charlie Chaplin, The Great Dictator- _____ James and Alex led the briefing on the expedition into Winter¡¯s Climb. It was, to them, just a recap, but for a lot of the Order it was brand new information. And everyone had questions. Which meant that, by the time they were done, it had been over four hours, and James was ready to go back to bed. He was, at this moment, intensely jealous of the people who had been torn into by a dragon. This was where his life was now. Wishing he¡¯d been injured so he could get out of this. Well, *sort of*. In a way, it was work, in a very *big* way it was exhausting and socially draining. But also¡­ James had loved interviewing people for the Order. Whether he was saying yes or no, that process of easing someone into a world of magic was, itself, magical. And these kinds of briefings were, in a lot of ways, similar. He stood up at the front of a crowd of roughly fifty people, composed of multiple species, all of whom were interested in learning about the hole in reality that he¡¯d personally explored. Yes, it was exhausting. But also, it was an experience unlike anything else. So he ran down the basics, and then settled in to trade with Alex to field questions about everything they¡¯d experienced. The Life they¡¯d encountered, what its capabilities were, whether it was intelligent enough to communicate, to befriend. The different territories, the weather, the different environmental threats. There were multiple times that he felt a little defensive, trying to justify why they made the choices they did. Why didn¡¯t they turn around to backtrack when they realized they¡¯d been tricked by the false party member who had stolen a portion of their equipment? Why did they move without scouting ahead with a drone so often? Why didn¡¯t they bunker down when the deadly ice storm started? James had answers, but he worried that his answers came across as excuses, not reasons. And, in part, he worried that he hadn¡¯t had good reasons in the field. That he¡¯d failed in a leadership role, even though that wasn¡¯t¡­ Midway through that part of the briefing, James realized that they needed actual training for leadership positions in the field. Even if they weren¡¯t building a normal command structure, the ability to make snap decisions, and to evaluate clearly under pressure was always going to be useful. More questions. Discussions from the audience, analysis of temperature charts, of captured images and video of the things they¡¯d fought, of the map of the ground they¡¯d covered. And then, questions on the magic. On the few things they¡¯d found that had their own magic on them, and also on the dungeon¡¯s big payoff. James still hadn¡¯t chosen a book, so he deferred to Alex, but she hadn¡¯t much experience with it yet either. It was, at this point, hard to tell if the book they¡¯d ¡®written¡¯ themselves after Arrush had killed the dragon was any more powerful than the other damaged ones that Anesh and Nik had salvaged. Certainly, though, just the option to pour one of their own dungeon abilities or even personal talents into a custom made spell was attractive like nothing else was. The books were *reusable*. This wasn¡¯t like the orbs or the Sewer¡¯s lessons or even the bonds that Clutter Ascent offered them. This didn¡¯t have to be copied, exploited using some of their tenuous and limited resource of magical coffee grounds and the single point of failure of a battered old magical overhead projector. This was¡­ ¡°A foundation.¡± James said, concluding his thoughts to the audience. ¡°We have four more people who will be testing out different permutations of power selection, so we can get a clearer picture. But, assuming this works the way we suspect, then this is the sort of thing we can build a future on.¡± He folded his arms, and looked up at the list of enchanted book titles projected on the wall of their briefing area. ¡°Something we can share. Not safely, obviously, but something we can repeat. A useful, *informed* choice about our magic. A powerful tool for everyone.¡± ¡°Assuming it doesn¡¯t kill us.¡± Alex added. ¡°I¡¯ve tested mine. It takes my Breath away so fast, it feels like my lungs¡¯ll collapse if I use it for more than a half second.¡± She paused. ¡°I think James overloaded it, honestly. Nik¡¯s doesn¡¯t do that. But it¡¯s still worth knowing.¡± They took more questions. They talked more. Eventually, it became clear that James and Alex had nothing else to really add about their collective experience. A lot of people, who were just here to stay up to date, filtered out of the briefing room, leaving behind those who now spent their life theorycrafting about dungeons, or planning delves professionally. James, for his part, found a worn padded chair in the back corner - the kind of chair that had a cushion but inexplicably was never comfortable to sit in - and flopped into it, downing half a bottle of water in one long motion. ¡°Well that was fun.¡± Alex joined him, slightly unwelcome but not too bad. James¡¯ head was still buzzing with a mild headache after four hours of talking. ¡°How¡¯s Alanna doing by the way?¡± She asked. ¡°She¡¯s fine. Still recovering, but alive.¡± James set his bottle on the floor, leaning forward to massage his forehead. The weather was getting colder, and this back space in their building was technically a warehouse, which meant it was cold. Because warehouses weren¡¯t really insulated that well. The smell of it, a little dusty, a little oily, mixed well with the smell of the trees and dirt outside. It was a unique smell, unlike anywhere else James had ever been, and he kind of liked it. He let the scent flow around him as he just focused on breathing for a little while, before raising his head with a refocused gaze. ¡°Arrush is alright, too. I mean, not ¡®alright¡¯. But he¡¯s gonna live. How¡¯re *you* doing?¡± ¡°Me? I¡¯m fine.¡± Alex shrugged. ¡°I dunno! I feel weird. Like, I went from excited, to running on adrenaline and coffee for a few days straight, to¡­ uh¡­ what are we doing now?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°Yeah! Nothing!¡± Alex pivoted her head slightly to the side, looking at something out of the corner of her eye. James noticed her eye was twitching a litte. ¡°When¡¯s the last time you slept?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± Alex now definitely wasn¡¯t meeting his eye. ¡°When we camped?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t sleep then.¡± James reminded her. ¡°There was that whole thing. You never actually took a turn to¡­ Alex, when did you last sleep?¡± Worry and concern took over his voice. She threw her hands up in annoyance. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, I¡¯m fine! Also you¡¯re not my dad!¡± ¡°Go to bed.¡± James said flatly. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Really, I don¡¯t need to sleep yet. I¡¯ll grab a bed later.¡± Alex promised. ¡°So! What magic are you taking? Might I recommend; being literally immortal!¡± ¡°Is that what the¡­ no, wait, hang on!¡± James didn¡¯t let himself get distracted. ¡°Go to bed!¡± Alex rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m *fine*. Look, I don¡¯t need help knowing when to sleep. I¡¯ll get to it when I¡¯m done with things I need to do. So, now, magic gossip time! What book are you thinking of?¡± James sighed, and let it drop. ¡°Honestly, I dunno. You said the Endurance book is¡­ uh¡­ bad?¡± ¡°Yeah, it takes so much breath, it chokes me almost instantly. *Cold*, too! But¡­ well, it feels like I¡¯m invincible when I use it. I actually think I could get shot in the head and walk it off.¡± Alex admitted, and then rapidly followed that up with ¡°Not that we¡¯ve tested that! I¡¯m not stupid, man.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t gonna say anything.¡± ¡°So, you.¡± She peered at him. ¡°I¡¯m thinking you¡¯re gonna go with the architecture one.¡± ¡°Two days ago, you were nervous to talk to me and jumped when I tried to banter.¡± James grumbled. Alex flapped a hand. ¡°Yeah yeah, whatever. It gets easier to see you as a human when I know you snore. So, am I right?¡± ¡°Arrush is taking architecture.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m right.¡± Alex said with a nod. She looked like she was going to say something else, but cut herself off with a massive yawn, wobbling slightly on her feet. James¡¯ sense of concern flared up again. ¡°Please go get some sleep.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of nonsense to do today, I would like to not add taking you to the hospital to that list.¡± Alex looked like she wanted to protest, but the next yawn cut that off too. Covering her mouth, and trying to shoot a sleepy glare at James, she eventually just gave up and wandered off with a tired ¡°Later¡±. Hopefully to one of the downstairs beds. Pushing himself to his feet with a sore groan, James looked around, and waved down the nearest person, a camraconda he¡¯d met before with some dark blue cabling and an aversion to picking a name. ¡°Hey, are you busy?¡± He asked. ¡°Also hi.¡± ¡°Not presently.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°They are discussing cold weather clothing for my species.¡± They rotated their head in a nod toward a table in the briefing space. ¡°I do not think I will be the one to test it.¡± ¡°Heh. Yeah, I get that.¡± James gave a knowing nod. ¡°Anyway. As a favor, can you keep an eye on Alex? She hasn¡¯t slept in a long time.¡± The camraconda hissed and nodded. ¡°I, too, get that. I will watch her.¡± They said. ¡°And thank you for the lesson.¡± James blinked. ¡°Oh, yeah, no worries.¡± He said. ¡°Anyway. I gotta go. Thank you.¡± He excused himself, giving a polite bow of his head that the camraconda matched, as well as a wave to the remaining half dozen members of the Order, as he turned and headed out back to the lobby. The front common room of the Lair was, in a word, busy. Busier than normal, but that was probably a result of a lot of people coming by at once to hear about the mountain. A variety of survivors who didn¡¯t feel comfortable anywhere else shared beanbags or small tables, talking quietly, reading, relaxing. There were several people here who were new additions to the Response project, and James could almost instantly pick them out; they were the ones who were trying really hard to look like they weren¡¯t staring at the non-human members of this bizarre clubhouse. Mostly the camracondas. There were, miraculously, more of them now. James had been *terrified* that they were going to end up as a dying splinter of a slave species; a few dozen freed camracondas slowly attritioning away until there was nothing left of their people but the controlled specimens in the dungeon itself. But instead, they¡¯d turned that around, capturing a handful of Officium Mundi¡¯s guard monsters, and slowly, oh so slowly, breaking the residual hold on them that the dungeon held. They were different than the original population. They hadn¡¯t been through years of trapped fear, starvation, guilt, and collective trauma. They woke up, slowly, softly, to a world where they could be people, guided by the others who had come first, but free to be something new. There were three of them so far, they were constantly confused by the world around them, and James empathized with them on a deeply personal level. The original camracondas weren¡¯t actually that old, but they¡¯d been forged in a crucible that had pushed them to an emotional maturity beyond their years. The new ones, though, were just kids. And it was something special to watch them learn and grow. James realized he¡¯d been standing, staring at the busy room without moving for almost a minute. He cleared his throat awkwardly, even though no one was actually paying attention to him, and slinked away before anyone questioned why he was grinning so broadly while he lurked in the shadows. _____ James finally, *finally*, remembered to ask Reed about the weird rubber stuff from Route Horizon. The answer did not impress him. It constantly pulled itself into a ball shaped mass, melding into itself like it was liquid, even though it didn¡¯t interact with any other matter that way. Reed looked at him like he should understand why this was a world-shattering development. James looked back at him like he didn¡¯t understand mechanical engineering beyond how to repair either lawnmowers, or Jettas made between 1994 and 1998. Reed cracked first, muttering something about self-healing qualities for high stress machines, and then just sighing and telling James it was kind of a big deal, and that they¡¯d like more of it. Even if they just sold it to a car company or something, it could be worth billions. That got James¡¯ attention. He promised to have a talk with some people about it, and asked Planner to set up a council. _____ ¡°And this week on the show, we¡¯ve got James!¡± Sarah¡¯s voice filled the little recording studio with a warmth and sense of eternal enthusiasm that was hard to match, and impossible to fabricate. Even the best host, when they said they had a great show for you tonight, you could tell when they were just going through the motions. Sarah didn¡¯t have to do that. She genuinely would have meant it; but she didn¡¯t need to say it anyway. You just got the feeling, listening to her, that she was prepared to give you a great show. She had taken perfectly to being their resident news caster. Among other things. ¡°Introduce yourself!¡± She commanded James with a grin. ¡°Uh, hi.¡± James stopped leaning back, abandoning the position he¡¯d been watching Sarah do her intro from, uncrossing his arms and moving up on the mic. ¡°I¡¯m James Lyle, and I¡¯m¡­ uh¡­¡± He paused. ¡°Having an existential crisis, I guess. What am I?¡± ¡°Excellent start!¡± Sarah grinned. ¡°But really. Most people here will know you already. For those that don¡¯t, James is our de facto leader, experienced dungeon explorer, and aspiring superhero.¡± ¡°Now hang on¡­¡± The interruption did not stop Sarah in the slightest. She snapped a sheet of paper in her hand, looking at it dramatically. ¡°The numbers my assistant has provided me with say that you are responsible for saving several hundred lives, and also that you are here today to talk to us about ethics!¡± ¡°Wait, no.¡± James stared like a deer in the headlights. ¡°I was lured here under the pretense of making jokes and being asked harmless questions about my romantic life!¡± Sarah nodded at him. ¡°And also ethics!¡± She announced with a grin like a wood chipper. James couldn¡¯t help but give a small spatter of laughter at her expression, and she returned an earnest friendly smile to him. ¡°So. I¡¯ve got some questions people submitted since they¡¯ve known you were gonna be here, and then a few other things to chat about. But first, is there anything *you* want to say?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t even know.¡± James stared up at the ceiling. ¡°You know, I kind of forgot I promised to do this? Don¡¯t get me wrong, I love this stuff. But I just spent several hours telling a bunch of dungeon nerds about a secret mountain in the middle of Australia, and did you know we have *dungeon nerds* now? Sarah, you are my literal best friend. Can I confide in you? I have to admit this; I do not know how I feel about us having people who are fans of specific dungeons.¡± Sarah looked down at the notes in front of her. ¡°That actually brings us to our first question.¡± She said, sheepishly. ¡°If you look at your own sheet¡­¡± ¡°When did this get here?¡± James jumped slightly in his chair. ¡°My assistant put it there. Kelly is very good at this.¡± Sarah said with a nod. ¡°Anyway! Question one! What is your favorite dungeon?¡± James stared at her. ¡°You can¡¯t see it, listeners.¡± He enunciated into the mic. ¡°But this dead air is a flat stare.¡± ¡°Hey, no stage directions!¡± Sarah chastised him. ¡°You set me up.¡± James accused her. She scoffed with faux haughtiness. ¡°You set yourself up. Now, on with the interview.¡± James held back laughter. ¡°Alright. I mean, I¡¯m not gonna lie, I have a ranking order. It¡¯s Clutter Ascent at the top.¡± ¡°Really? Not Officium Mundi?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°It did change your life.¡± ¡°It also almost killed you, and¡­ uh¡­ seventy percent or so of the people in this building?¡± James did some wildly inaccurate math on the fly. ¡°Look, a lot of the dungeons are cool. Route Horizon has some amazing scenery, you know? But Ascent hasn¡¯t tried to kill any of us, and so far, every piece of Life they¡¯ve made has been both adorable, and also friendly.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Also it¡¯s just *nice* there. Favorite dungeon, hands down.¡± ¡°Now, there¡¯s an inverse question here, too...¡± Sarah started. ¡°Fuck the Sewer.¡± James answered preemptively. ¡°Noted.¡± Sarah literally made a note. ¡°Next question! What, in your opinion, should be the long term goal of the Order?¡± ¡°Long term like how long?¡± James asked. ¡°Because it¡¯s gonna be hard to answer regardless. Our ability, collectively, to get stuff done? It fluctuates *wildly*. One day, we find the cure for cancer. The next, a single person dies and sets back the skulljack project by a year. We are¡­ hm. The Order is adaptable, you know? We¡¯re good at that, all of us. Anyone who wasn¡¯t moved on, got a normal-ish life. We¡¯re exceptionally good at rolling with the punches. But I¡¯m not gonna lie, it makes long term planning hard, and I think Karen might actually try to feed me to the plant in her office if I promise anything concrete.¡± ¡°Okay, well, let¡¯s say five years.¡± Sarah prompted. ¡°What do you want to have done by then? Best case.¡± She prodded James into answering. He answered with what would have been ridiculous optimism even a year ago. ¡°I want to have an arcology proof of concept built, and start populating it. Ideally. If you¡¯d asked me a year ago, I probably would have just said ¡®not being dead¡¯, but at this point, I actually think we can do it.¡± He ticked off points on his fingers. ¡°We¡¯ve got a growing cash flow from dungeon resources, we¡¯ve got more and more people who¡¯re willing to help, and most importantly, we¡¯ve got a lot more magic that could be turned toward it. The orange totems, especially, are going to be *huge*. Build one segment perfectly, then copy it, instead of needing to build it over and over. Greens, too. Also a handful of other magic stuff, you know? It just seems¡­ I mean, it¡¯s a years off goal, but we¡¯re a decade closer than I expected.¡± ¡°Okay, so, as your best friend, I gotta ask.¡± Sarah steepled her fingers and leaned in toward him. ¡°Why an arcology? Why not, I dunno, uplifting crows or something?¡± ¡°Well, mostly bec...ause¡­ sorry, crows?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get us sidetracked!¡± James laughed as he rubbed at his eyebrows. ¡°Okay, sure. Anyway. Two big reasons. One is¡­ hm, okay, actually, this is recorded, right? I¡¯m gonna take a minute to think of how to phrase this. Cut this part out.¡± While James cast his eyes down and sorted out his thoughts, he absolutely missed Sarah making a slashing motion at her assistant, informing her to absolutely not cut this part. ¡°Okay.¡± James continued. ¡°So, we want a better world. That¡¯s, like, the core of the Order¡¯s code. Do good, for everyone. So, we¡¯re sort of working on that, right? Randomly curing cases of cancer, intervening in medical emergencies or helping abuse victims, we¡¯re doing what we can. But¡­¡± He unfolded his hands, and let his tone get somewhat unsteady. ¡°We live in a world where cancer is, like, the ¡®cost of doing business¡¯. Where the biggest crime is pervasive wage theft. And these aren¡¯t exactly things we can ¡®fix¡¯, not really.¡± ¡°Not even with some strategic greens?¡± Sarah cut in. ¡°Or, you know, anything to do with our whole ¡®teleport everywhere instead of taking a car¡¯ plan?¡± ¡°Oh, the teleport thing. Jesus.¡± James groaned. ¡°You know how easy it would be to just kill anyone who¡¯s a problem? We could be done in an afternoon.¡± He slumped back in the chair. ¡°We¡¯re *not doing that*! Everyone pay attention! No assassinations! Ethics still fucking matters, and we¡¯re *better than that*, okay?¡± He shook his head. ¡°But also, the green thing is just too much, too. What are we supposed to do, copy a few million ¡®lower pollution output¡¯ orbs and spam them on every piece of heavy industry or farm that uses pesticides?¡± ¡°...Yes?¡± Sarah paused. ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s add that to the list.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to do your job as podcast host for you, and get us back on track.¡± James told her. ¡°The reason I want to build an arcology is to take everything that we, both as humanity and as the Order, have learned, and apply it to a habitat design, with the goal in mind of ¡®let¡¯s make this place not suck¡¯.¡± Sarah hummed at him, snapping her fingers as she made the connection. ¡°You want to control for variables.¡± She said. ¡°And translate that to helping people.¡± ¡°To creating the conditions for high quality lives for as many people as possible, yes.¡± James clarified. ¡°Essentially, the point of an arcology is to produce a proof of concept to the rest of the world. We can build these, we have built one, people live in it, those people are happy, we will build these for you. I have, basically, no interest in actually *destroying* anything with our revolution. I¡¯m more interested in out-competing any rival systems. Teleportation actually does matter here, because it¡¯s an important part of how we can offer people who want it an out of whatever situation they¡¯re in. When travel risks and costs are zero, it¡¯s a lot easier to take a chance on somewhere new.¡± Sarah nodded energetically. ¡°I get what you¡¯re talking about!¡± She proclaimed. ¡°It¡¯s a fresh start! A new beginning, right? Hit the reset button on all the established messes, and get to work making our own messes.¡± The fact that she did understand the point he was laboriously dragging the conversation toward made James sigh in relief. ¡°Yeah, exactly.¡± He said. ¡°New, more interesting, hopefully less horrible messes.¡± ¡°And the people we bring in?¡± ¡°Well, I kind of want to do something like what we¡¯ve done with the Order. We¡¯ve already been building a culture. I want to create the conditions where that culture can thrive, spread, and invite everyone to join.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I think everyone is worth it. Even the worst people, I think deserve a chance at a life where they can be better. And I think we can make it happen. *Somehow*. Probably with, like, a lot of arcane bullshit. Ask Momo for details on that.¡± ¡°So, there¡¯s a few people who asked a question for you that relates to this.¡± Sarah shuffled the notes in front of her, but didn¡¯t actually *look* at them, and James narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he realized that she was wearing a skulljack wireless braid, which was *probably* cheating. ¡°What happens when a government gets mad at us?¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s likely they¡¯ll respond to our presence with military force.¡± James was kind of surprised he sounded as calm as he did saying that. ¡°Alternately, a propaganda campaign. Or both. Which is pretty standard for world governments these days.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°...aaaaand?¡± ¡°And what?¡± ¡°And what are we gonna do about the actual army trying to kill us?¡± ¡°Sarah, we¡¯re working on building a spatially compressed city that houses a population that is both aware of and coexisting with a variety of infomorphs, dungeons, and dungeon life. I plan to make it a challenge for a military to even *find us*.¡± James didn¡¯t actually have perfect confidence in his own words, though. And he copped to that. ¡°Honestly, though, it¡¯s a problem. We can¡¯t really fight back against a national superpower¡¯s military. There¡¯s a hundred of us, and, like, sure, I feel invincible every time I survive a fight. But nothing in the dungeons use sniper rifles, you know? So I don¡¯t have a perfect answer. And, the best part of being a mature adult is, I can *say* ¡®I don¡¯t have an answer¡¯, and then work on finding one!¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Hopefully before the sniper rifles come into play.¡± ¡°Harrowing!¡± Sarah deadpanned. ¡°Okay, I like the answer though, as rambley as your answers get. I have a next question, though!¡± ¡°Hit me.¡± James was prepared. Sarah gave another predatory grin. ¡°Pineapple on pizza. Yes or no?¡± Without a second of hesitation, James flowed into a non-answer. ¡°You know, Hawaiian pizza is a bizarre creation? It uses a fruit not native to Hawaii, to start, and Canadian bacon which is, in case anyone was curious, not originally from Canada. It¡¯s an American interpretation of an Italian dish, that was first sold by a Greek immigrant to the States. It¡¯s like¡­ you know with Play-Doh, when you take all the little leftover scraps and mix them into a ball, but you don¡¯t squish too hard, so you can see all the individual colors, and it¡¯s just blind chaos but also kind of cool?¡± James smiled. ¡°I love the story behind Hawaiian pizza.¡± ¡°That,¡± Sarah told him, after a brief round of earnest applause, ¡°was an incredibly moving reply.¡± Then she slapped the flat of her palm against the desk, eliciting a cracking thud the mics would absolutely pick up. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t an answer!¡± ¡°Yes, I like pineapple on pizza, but I don¡¯t like Canadian bacon, so not Hawaiian.¡± ¡°Cheater.¡± ¡°Moving on?¡± James prompted. ¡°Wait, why am I saying that. You¡¯re the one in charge of this interview.¡± He stopped rambling, and gave Sarah an expectant look. ¡°Come on, I know you have more questions.¡± Sarah smiled at him with dancing eyes. ¡°A question was submitted from an anonymous source asking if you were single.¡± She leaned in toward James. ¡°Hmmm?¡± ¡°Please can we go back to the questions on the ethics of murdering people.¡± James muttered, face flushed red. ¡°I have things to do today.¡± Sarah laughed, let it drop, and moved on. The questions did not stop veering wildly between ideological, and awkwardly personal. James enjoyed the experience immensely. _____ James had, in the last few years of his life, found a number of tiny joys to live for. The thrill of adventure, the companionship of his friends, the feeling of triumph at saving a life. Little moments, big moments, it didn¡¯t matter, they were all important to him. But nothing, really, compared to the smug satisfaction of being an enigmatic bastard sometimes. Just as a reward for good behavior. James followed Lin, one of their rogues and the least inconspicuous person he¡¯d ever met, through the door of the Utah diner. It was an unfairly warm and sunny day for the middle of September; back home, it was already starting to convert to the permanent gray and wet of winter, but here in the minor city of Kaysville, it just kept being pleasant. The inside of the diner was so greasy, you could feel it in the air. That kind of instant recognition that you got after you¡¯d sampled too many of this style of restaurant; the knowledge that the tables would be sticky, the food would be adequate but overpriced, and that you¡¯d feel terrible after your meal but that you wouldn¡¯t remember by the time you were hungry for breakfast cooked by someone else again. There was also, to James¡¯ horror, a jukebox. One of those ones with the tubes of bubbling water, lit up in pink and green, and that all seemed to have the same three songs on them playing on repeat. Benny and the Jets played just a little too loud over the low noise of a handful of people having conversations. Two pairs of two older couples, spaced out in the old red leather booths, and the clattering of pans from the kitchen. James already knew why they were here, but he let Lin lead him anyway. She waved at the waitress in a way that somehow made the gray haired oak of a woman just nod and leave them to it while she wiped down a coffee pot. And then stalked through the diner, shoes sticking slightly to the tile floor, to stand next to a booth with a solitary gentleman sitting in it. ¡°Alchemist Nile.¡± Lin said. Her voice was crisply professional, and had the pitch you¡¯d expect coming from her five foot two frame, but she had a grin while she spoke anyway, watching with her own satisfaction as the man in the booth snapped his head up to them with wide eyes. ¡°Real name Walter Crongle, eighty four years old, left his gun in his car today. It¡¯s the Mercedes outside.¡± Lin rattled off the words like a script. ¡°Estimated net wealth, about a hundred and forty million. Technically, third in command of-¡° ¡°Yes thank you, shut up!¡± The old man¡¯s voice snipped through Lin¡¯s words, though the rogue didn¡¯t lose her smile. ¡°Should have brought the fucking gun.¡± His grumbling voice had a ghost of a drawl to it. ¡°Well? Here to kill me, or just waste time until my breakfast gets cold?¡± James liked him immediately, which he probably shouldn¡¯t have. With a smile of his own, he slid into the booth opposite Walter, just as the waitress finally decided to come bother them. ¡°Jack? These kids bothering you?¡± Walter - absolutely not a Jack, but oh well - looked over at James, who just gave him a friendly shrug, before glancing back up. ¡°No, no. Just an old family friend I wasn¡¯t expecting to see today.¡± The man said. ¡°He¡¯s fine.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m going.¡± Lin said, giving James a tilt of her head. She¡¯d be ¡®going¡¯ about as far as she needed to to join the perimeter of Knights who were watching the place. ¡°Can I get a coffee?¡± James asked the server. ¡°Lots of cream and sugar.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t poison it either.¡± Lin commanded her, meeting the woman¡¯s startled gaze, and holding it with serious eyes until the older woman broke and looked away, glancing at Walter, then James, and then giving a resigned sag of her shoulders. ¡°So.¡± Walter asked. ¡°Not here to kill me. What do you want then?¡± James sighed as he stretched his arms over his head, cracking joints and trying to get some of the lingering soreness out. He still had lingering splotches of light red on his face that hadn¡¯t fully healed, as well as that dumb sliver of wood growing through his flesh. And his arm did, technically, still have a hole in it. So all things considered, just feeling a little sore was pretty good. ¡°Well.¡± He started with. ¡°First, I have a question for you.¡± James reached into his too-warm coat, and slowly pulled out a small crystal vial. He set it on the table, the roil of blue-black dragon scales and fangs inside twitching slightly. ¡°Do you know, *really know*, what this is?¡± Walter just cocked an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s one of ours, yes.¡± He said. ¡°Permanent cure for depression, since you seem to insist on having this conversation in the open. Though it also works on general anxiety disorder, social agoraphobia, and post traumatic stress disorder.¡± The man¡¯s drawl took on the tone of someone giving a sales pitch. It got an angry twitch of the eye from James. ¡°And what, exactly, do you think it does?¡± His voice was low, but steady. ¡°...Rewires the brain to human neurotypical?¡± Walter was starting to show some confusion. ¡°It¡¯s perfectly safe. The price tag is simply because of the limited stock. I¡¯m sorry, if you purchased from us, and it didn¡¯t work, then I regret to tell you that you did not have one of the¡­¡± He kept talking, but James wasn¡¯t listening to him anymore. Instead, he was listening to the red totem carefully calibrated in his pocket that was telling him that the man¡¯s heartbeat hadn¡¯t increased. He was listening to Alanna through the skulljack radio link telling him that Walter was mostly feeling confusion and concern. And he was listening to his own instincts telling him this man wasn¡¯t lying. Taking all those things with a grain of salt, but still listening. James groaned, and shook his head, cutting off his conversation partner¡¯s pitch. ¡°Okay. How do you make these?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯m not asking here, to be clear. This isn¡¯t a threat or anything, but I need to know what goes into *this specific potion*.¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡± Walter admitted. ¡°Only Colorado knows. It¡¯s the highest secret, even though it¡¯s not even close to our best seller.¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t taken one.¡± The words were more statement than question. ¡°Of course not.¡± Walter scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly normal.¡± ¡°Okay, first off, ouch.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the banter out of the conversation. ¡°So you don¡¯t know that this thing hollows people out and lives in their bodies, huh?¡± Walter went stone still. One second, an aging man eating eggs and overdone toast, the next instant, a statue of a soldier on high alert. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± The question came out like he hadn¡¯t reacted, like he was just a curious old observer. ¡°You didn¡¯t know.¡± James sighed. ¡°Okay, stand down.¡± He muttered into his link with the others. ¡°Excuse me?¡± James ignored the question. ¡°So, eighty four, huh? Looking pretty good for that. Do you guys make anti-aging potions?¡± ¡°Hardly. If we did we¡¯d¡­ no, I won¡¯t let you do this. You are mistaken about this.¡± Walter tapped the crystal container still sitting on the table. ¡°It¡¯s harmless. You are attempting to manipulate me.¡± ¡°Walter, buddy, I am attempting to determine if we should be making polite conversation about working together, or if we should be burning everything your guild has ever touched to the ground as an emergency measure against an existential threat to life on Earth.¡± James crossed his arms, shifting to get the sleeves of his coat to stop pulling. ¡°Months of surveillance, of making sure you didn¡¯t sell any more of those, of trying to track down the people you *have* sold to in the past, and we are no closer to an answer. So, this meeting.¡± ¡°You¡¯re spying on us.¡± Walter narrowed his eyes. ¡°You¡­ yes, you¡¯re with the people who triggered the wards on my house last month.¡± James didn¡¯t respond to that, though he filed the word ¡®wards¡¯ away for later. ¡°So. How many of your fellow Alchemists have taken this potion?¡± He asked. It took Walter a few minutes of watching James carefully before he moved again. This time, not to say anything, but to slowly start to take bites of his breakfast. James let the man eat, not leaving, but not interrupting. He knew how bad cold eggs were. Eventually, though, Walter made a choice. ¡°Two.¡± He said. ¡°We don¡¯t¡­ you need to understand, we don¡¯t sample our own wares. The cost of production is high, and our wealth is based off of our product lines. Only those who are truly in need take them, for the price alone.¡± ¡°You have their names?¡± James prompted. ¡°Yes, yes of course.¡± Walter flipped his receipt over, scrubbing the names of two other alchemists on it before sending it fluttering toward James with a jerky motion. While James reached for it, Walter pulled a small silver flask out of his coat pocket, and poured a fairly substantial dose of an amber liquid into his coffee. ¡°Damnable start to a day.¡± He muttered to himself. ¡°Who are you people?¡± He asked as he raised his coffee cup with shaky hands. ¡°Security.¡± James replied, picking up the paper. ¡®Amature attempt. Better luck next time.¡¯ It read. Walter downed his coffee in one go with a motion that gave James the feeling that this was a man who had *considerable practice* gulping down potions. Then, he winked at James, before flickering and casually rolling through the wall of the diner they were sitting next to. The older man - displaying an athleticism that should just be flat out impossible on anyone over the age of sixty - threw himself through the front windshield of his car without touching the physical matter, then twisted to land in the driver¡¯s seat, and blazed out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires. With a small nod and pursed lips, James set the bill back down. ¡°Alright then.¡± He said to himself. ¡°That was something.¡± ¡°Amateur attempt my dick.¡± Nate¡¯s voice from one of the three vehicles surrounding the diner came through the tactical link in a way that could best be described as ¡®belligerent¡¯. ¡°Both GPS trackers are on. Radio transponder, too. Audio¡¯s coming in. He didn¡¯t even check his car. I¡¯ll fucking show you amateur you old cunt.¡± ¡°Spelled ¡®amateur¡¯ wrong, too.¡± James added. ¡°So, what now? That¡¯s the third one today, do we just keep ruffling feathers?¡± He stole a piece of overdone toast off the alchemist¡¯s abandoned plate and started nibbling on it. ¡°Myles and Lin are on tail duty now, and I¡¯m gonna follow up on this chucklefuck in a minute.¡± Nate¡¯s voice, James realized, got the exact same tone when he was running an intelligence op as when he was giving commands to people in the kitchen. ¡°Three is enough. Let ¡®em panic, see if it reveals anything.¡± ¡°Wish the damn glasses worked.¡± Alanna griped. ¡°For all we know, they do.¡± James chimed in. ¡°But how would we know? If everyone reads as ¡®alchemist¡¯, that doesn¡¯t mean that the replacement-thing isn¡¯t an alchemist. Or maybe none of them are replaced. Or, you know, maybe it doesn¡¯t work and this just sucks.¡± He sighed. ¡°We need to see if we can steal their client list, minimum.¡± ¡°Okay, he¡¯s stopped.¡± Nate commented. ¡°Few miles away. Probably gonna search the car now. I¡¯m gonna get moving, just in case he¡¯s smarter than we think. See you back at base.¡± James titled his head to no one in particular, though Nate would still see the visual change through the link before he disconnected. ¡°Good hunting. Keep me up to date.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t need anyone else for a week or two. Depends. I¡¯ll keep you posted.¡± Nate said. ¡°Byrne.¡± He added as a goodbye to Alanna. ¡°Marselli.¡± She shot back before Nate clicked off the link. Then, to James a second later, ¡°Okay, now that he¡¯s gone, that whole spy thing you¡¯ve got going on is kinda hot.¡± James tried to keep his face from getting red in the middle of a diner where he was now sitting by himself. ¡°Alanna, please.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just saying! We should get you a James Bond suit.¡± ¡°I feel like you¡¯d look better in that than I would.¡± James replied. ¡°Also, you ready to telepad back? I¡¯ve got yet more stuff to do today, and I¡¯m sure you have stuff to do aside from being our portable lie detector.¡± ¡°Yeah, and then-¡° ¡°Hold that thought.¡± James cut Alanna off as the waitress walked over with his coffee. ¡°Sorry, looks like I won¡¯t be needing that after all.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ll still pay for it.¡± ¡°Oh, sure.¡± The woman gave him a bitter look. ¡°And Jack¡¯s bill too? Since you¡¯re such good friends.¡± James looked down at the meal receipt for the food the alchemist absolutely had not paid for before ghosting himself through a wall. He looked back up. ¡°If I tell you that we hate each other, can I get out of this?¡± He asked. The woman gave him a stern glare. ¡°No.¡± ¡°That prick.¡± James grumbled as he pulled a pair of twenties out of his wallet, before stomping out to join his girlfriend. __ ¡°Hey.¡± James quietly let the door to the roof of the Lair shut behind him as he stepped out onto the flat surface. Being on the roof of a building was still a novel experience for him, and he still didn¡¯t know why some of them were covered in gravel, which seemed like a fact he should have picked up by now. This one wasn¡¯t, but he still thought of it every time he came up here. The camraconda he greeted was perched coiled under one of the covered watch posts they had up here. Technically, this violated their lease, and it was ironic that *this* was what was most likely to get them in trouble, and not the six-ish basements. ¡°Yes. Evening.¡± Watcher-Of-Motion replied. ¡°They are over that direction.¡± The camraconda indicated. ¡°Now hang on.¡± James protested. ¡°What if I came up here to chat with you?¡± The camraconda narrowed the aperture of its camera eye. ¡°Appreciate the intent. But prefer the quiet, and the rain.¡± She told him. ¡°Also, you did not.¡± ¡°Well *yeah*, but I don¡¯t want to be rude.¡± James said. ¡°I worry sometimes about you guys. I can at least check in.¡± ¡°Many check in. Bring food. Comfort. Concern. I am not alone here. And I like the rain.¡± The camraconda twisted her body to stare upward, eye focusing on the smattering of light raindrops, impervious to the feeling of the water splashing on her open eye. ¡°And the *quiet*.¡± The serpent emphasized the word. James chuckled. ¡°Got it. They¡¯re over there, eh? Thanks. Enjoy the rain. There¡¯s a lot more coming up.¡± He popped his coat collar up, and took a breath like he was about to plunge into a lake, before stepping out from under the cover and speed walking across the roof and around a couple of the big HVAC units. There were too many HVAC units up here. That would probably also be an obvious sign that they¡¯d been fucking with the building. Behind the cluster of two meter tall mechanical cubes, James found who he was looking for. Perched on the wall that overlooked the back parking lot and the struggling and unkempt patch of trees and grass beyond it, Arrush and Keeka lay together in the rain. The ratroaches were, James realized, balanced on a foot wide sloped concrete wall, twenty feet off the ground, and neither of them looked like they were bothered by that. They still looked wrong to him, too; a feeling that he tried his best to smash out of his head. It was nothing in particular, which was what made it a problem. The extra misplaced limbs, the antenna, the unbalanced sprawls of eyes across their faces over twisted muzzles and too sharp teeth. None of that bothered James. Fur and chitin were normal things for creatures to have, and they happened to have both, and that wasn¡¯t bad either. It might have been unsettling to see Arrush, who had nearly been torn in half a week ago, lounging with his boyfriend. But James had walked off being shot almost in the heart once, so who was he to talk? No, it was something about how they were put together. Something that screamed that they were wrong and broken and alien. That they were a threat, and that he shouldn¡¯t get close, and that he needed to fight, and¡­ A nova of anger flared up in James¡¯ chest as he realized what was happening. What had been happening. What he hadn¡¯t noticed, hadn¡¯t been looking for. ¡°Planner.¡± He whispered, catching the attention of the infomorph that tended to always be listening around the building. ¡°Do me a favor, and make an appointment to check these two for infomorph parasites from the Sewer, please.¡± Planner wasn¡¯t actually running on James¡¯ mental hardware, but they were firmly rooted around this place, and the word ¡®appointment¡¯ attracted their attention rapidly. ¡°As you say.¡± Came the scribbled response in James¡¯ ears. He felt like an idiot for not noticing sooner. It wasn¡¯t that strong, but it was persistent. He wondered if they felt it, about each other. About what it would take to live like that your whole life, and still overcome this feeling. James sighed, and stepped forward. Arrush had noticed him when he¡¯d first arrived, but said nothing, simply waiting. ¡°Hey there.¡± James greeted the pair. ¡°You two doing okay?¡± Keeka, curled up in Arrush¡¯s lap and currently having several of his boyfriend¡¯s hands running through his fur, tensed instantly at the sound of James¡¯ voice. He was facing out toward the treeline, and didn¡¯t turn, instead just freezing suddenly. James took a glance at the ratroach, and realized he was shirtless; the rain matting fur and sliding across chitin, and also starting to soak the ankle length skirt the ratroach had on. More, though, James noticed that there were thin stalks of greenery growing out of the fur on the ratroach¡¯s back. Strands of grass or stems of flowers, they poked out from around the wiry black fur, like they were rooted in him. ¡°Healing.¡± Arrush rasped at James, his voice as harsh and painful to use as ever. ¡°Why¡­¡± He made a motion with one of the hands that wasn¡¯t keeping them braced on the ledge, asking why James was here. A little blunt, but James wasn¡¯t gonna take offense. ¡°Two things.¡± James told him. ¡°Then I¡¯ll leave you two alone. Well, three things. The first one is, do you want an umbrella or something¡­?¡± Arrush looked down at the coiled ball of a ratroach in his lap, rain drizzling across shoots of green among black fur. Then back up at James. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°Kay. So, two things. I owe you an apology.¡± He said it plainly, with no reservations or shame. He¡¯d screwed up, and he needed Arrush to know it. ¡°I asked you to come along to make sure you weren¡¯t left out of the balance of power. To hopefully get you a tool or two to build a real life, after what you¡¯ve been through. I thought I was helping. But I nearly got you killed, because I forgot that you *aren¡¯t like us*. No, that¡¯s¡­ that sounds wrong. Not that you¡¯re different, but that you¡¯re thinking differently about the world.¡± He blinked what was surely rain out of his eyes. ¡°Arrush, you fought like you were expendable.¡± James¡¯ voice ached. ¡°You can¡¯t¡­ that¡¯s not what I wanted. You weren¡¯t supposed to be a shock trooper. I wanted you to be like us. But I didn¡¯t think, and I fucked it up, and you nearly died. So. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Arrush just gave a bobbing nod, like everything James said had been obvious. He didn¡¯t look like it really connected with him. But, on the ledge with him, Keeka uncurled and pivoted to face James out of the left set of his rodent eyes. ¡°So many words.¡± He whispered, voice almost swallowed up by the growing pattering of rain around them. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I used words to try to connect with people.¡± James said, eager for a question he could actually answer. ¡°And I never know if I¡¯ve gotten the right feeling across. So I talk too much.¡± ¡°Want. Talk.¡± Keeka said. ¡°Lots.¡± The ratroach added, still curled up, but facing James with defiant eyes, as if daring him to say no. ¡°We¡¯re working on getting more shaper substance.¡± James said instead. ¡°Healing you was always part of the plan.¡± He told them. Arrush hissed suddenly, and it made James jump before he realized the ratroach was just trying to blow the water off his snout. ¡°Wasn¡¯t¡­ not¡­ a mistake.¡± He said. ¡°What?¡± The ratroach took the deepest breath he could, clutching his chest as the ache of some of the still broken ribs poked at him, and his badly designed set of lungs pulled in air poorly. Then, he spoke, as steady as he could between pants and drips of blue acid from his maw. ¡°There were¡­ no¡­ mistakes. I chose¡­ to¡­ fight. Because you were¡­ kind. To us.¡± He hissed out the last of his breath, sagging as he settled back on the concrete ledge. James gave a sad frown. ¡°I still don¡¯t think we did this right.¡± He said. ¡°But¡­ well, we¡¯ll have time to talk about it, yeah?¡± He asked, and Arrush nodded softly in reply. ¡°Anyway. I have a second thing, that¡¯s less¡­ I dunno, less us trying to compete for whose life is worth less.¡± Reaching under his coat, getting slightly annoyed that the mild creeping cold here somehow bothered him more than the below freezing temperatures of the Climb, James pulled out the thick textbook he¡¯d been holding against his side. ¡®Fundamentals of Architecture, 8th Edition¡¯ read the cover, over an image of an unassuming skyline. It was the kind of thing James was terrified they might actually *lose*, it looked so much like a normal book. Even with the scorch marks and cover damage where it had been buried under a pile of ice. ¡°It isn¡¯t¡­ a good idea.¡± Arrush huffed out. ¡°Breath¡­ comes too¡­ slow. Not good for me.¡± He sounded defeated. But James had the perfect answer to that one, at least. Several answers, really. ¡°Well, we¡¯re gonna get your breathing up to optimal eventually anyway, once Deb does her science magic and we have more shaper substance. Also, I¡¯m taking this one too, and we need to test what happens if two people use the same book. And *also*, it¡¯s not single use, so you¡¯re not ¡®taking¡¯ anything from anyone else.¡± He smiled, and then added quietly. ¡°Also, you said you wanted to build things. And I know how that feels. So.¡± He held out the book to Arrush. ¡°Have you¡­?¡± ¡°Not yet. Want me to go first?¡± James asked. Arrush looked, a ripple of blinks going down his eyes, before he shook his head, sending a couple drops of acidic saliva across the roof, and reached out to grab the book. He would, James knew, instantly get the same mental prompt that James had been getting the whole time. As Arrush closed his eyes, James did the same, and mentally gave an affirmative. His breath flowed out of him. Both the stored mana in his chest, and the actual air in his lungs. A long exhalation, until there was nothing left but the emptiness waiting to be filled. His body temperature dropped, fingertips starting to ache from the cold, a shiver running through him. His head swam, suddenly out of oxygen, and out of heat. And then, nothing in its way, the spell clicked into place. [Thermodynamic Tunnel | Five Breaths | Permanent] He and Arrush snapped their eyes open together, just as Keeka made a concerned chittering squeak. James sucked in air greedily, lungs pumping to refill his body and his soul with that vital force. He shivered with more cold than the chilly rain could have possibly brought on, and saw Arrush doing the same thing. Though the ratroach was gasping a lot harder than he was. Two minutes later, James realized exactly how fast his Breath refilled itself. And, armed with the knowledge of what this spell did, he breathed out, and imprinted his will and his life force upon the world. He selected a point over the street, and pulled, carving a tunnel through physics, settling the end over where Arrush and Keeka still balanced on the wall, though with the smaller sleeker ratroach now doing most of the stabilizing. Then, feeling more cold creep into his veins, James finished the exhalation, and let the spell crystalize into place. The air warmed. Not much, but a little. As the ten foot wide orb of space James had designated over the street began to pour heat through the abstract tunnel, in defiance of the basic laws of physics. The warmth from that chunk of air and the rain passing through it sapped away, and deposited on this end, over the two ratroaches on the edge of the roof. James almost collapsed as he struggled to suck in a breath again after that. ¡°Ooooohkay.¡± He wheezed. ¡°Wow, that takes it out of you.¡± He gasped. Then, he felt the soft flickering of warmth brush against him, and knew, more than just with the magic¡¯s implanted knowledge, that it had worked. ¡°Oh.¡± He blinked as he continued to catch his breath. ¡°That¡­ might have been a bad idea.¡± He admitted, looking out to where a portion of the rain was turning almost to freezing as it fell. He stayed with them until Arrush recovered. Offered to help them back inside, but the two ratroaches wanted to be alone up here a while longer. James did make sure to threaten both of the still healing creatures with telling Deb if they didn¡¯t get back to bed before they caught a cold, assuming that was possible. Before he left, he confirmed it. Arrush had gotten the same spell he had, down to the fine details. And that thermal linking wouldn¡¯t go away until he told it to. __ James checked in with everyone. Well, everyone he had time for, or could find. Alanna and Anesh were fine, both of them immersed in their own things. Actually most of the Order was. Even if ¡®their own thing¡¯ was just something simple, like decorating the living area, or continuing to remodel the bathroom, or continuing experimenting with orange totems. When there was no existential threat, everything felt so relaxed. Even James¡¯ most recent near-death felt¡­ muted. Sure, the FBI didn¡¯t like them. But, much like the local police, it wasn¡¯t like they could actually find the Order anyway. And while everyone was still keeping an eye out, it didn¡¯t seem like their potential governmental adversary had made any moves. Why, James didn¡¯t know, but the downtime was nice. And yes, Response was getting more attention. Not a huge amount, they hadn¡¯t actually gone viral or appeared on the nightly news, but¡­ people were paying attention now. Soon, they¡¯d need to answer to that. But right now, they were just a small group dealing out small fortunes. And the Alchemists, obviously. But James filed that under Nate and JP ¡®doing their own thing¡¯. Even if he was on hand to help, if needed. The point was, no one was actively shooting at them, and the dungeons they knew about were quiet. Even the Sewer. It was just¡­ quiet. Quieter than it had been in a long time. So James checked in with some people, made sure that everyone knew that they didn¡¯t need him to make executive decisions, and then took a break. Well, not a break exactly. But some personal time. He borrowed Sarah¡¯s car, a *very* used and apparently immortal VW Beetle that she¡¯d picked up since her return, stole a bag of chips and a bottle of lemonade out of the kitchen, made sure he had a telepad and a spare shield bracer on him, and then set his GPS to take him¡­ south. Somewhere south. The cartomorph in his soul stirred as he hit the on ramp to the highway. He¡¯d put this off for too long. Somewhere out there, a pretty good burger joint waited for him. For James, now, some time to think alone and some good food sounded excellent. And, also, it wasn¡¯t fair to the map based life that had been sticking around this long. He needed to finish his trip, and give it the choice to either grow, or leave, as it wanted. The wipers left streaks of water across the windshield as James tried to adjust the driver¡¯s seat to his satisfaction while urging the car up to highway speeds. It had been a good day, he decided, as he put the pedal down. Chapter 175 ¡°Hence I have no mercy or compassion in me for a society that will crush people, and then penalize them for not being able to stand up under the weight.¡± -Malcolm X, The Autobiography of Malcolm X - _____ All things considered, Sarah was having a pretty good day. Currently, she was in the house underneath Clutter Ascent, eating some kind of melted goat cheese on toast. It was a bizarre flavor, she was pretty sure she didn¡¯t ever want it again, and it was also shockingly compelling to the point that she was also pretty sure she would be having it a few more times before her tongue caught up to what she was doing to it. The house was occupied now. Karen had done some money magic and ended up sniping it off the market. Harvey¡¯s old fraternity brother who used to live here hadn¡¯t wanted a thing to do with it, even after they¡¯d been up front about the nature of his ¡®haunted¡¯ attic. He¡¯d already moved, he was perfectly fine, he¡¯d just take the money and go, thank you very much. So, the Order owned a house, which was nice. A house with a dungeon in it. There were just a couple problems, like how the dungeon was mostly defenseless, and also their friend, and also it was a waste of property taxes to not actually use the house. Fortunately, Sarah had solved most of those problems all at once by making the house a communal living space for several victims of the Office¡¯s old kidnapping attempt. Nick, Brian, Suri, and Jose were all members of the support group. Two of them were competent programmers, *all* of them were scarily good at a lot of esoteric skulljack tricks. Suri especially, who had learned how to leave an ¡®imprint¡¯ of herself when disconnecting from another¡¯s mind, a little ghost that could continue to influence or communicate until it faded away. Sarah was pretty sure it was one of them who had come up with the trick of having one person listen to her update podcast, and then sharing the direct memory file. None of them were members of the Order, though. They were all welcome, obviously. But they weren¡¯t part of it. Either because they weren¡¯t ready, or weren¡¯t interested, but whatever the reason, they hadn¡¯t wanted to take up the banner. But they were still orphans, of a kind. Cut off from their old lives by overexposure to the grinding infovorous memeplex of Officium Mundi, cut off from their place in the normal world by the modifications to their bodies. And while they were reclaiming a pattern of normal life, Sarah was well aware that it could be hard to adjust. Hard to get back to feeling like you were stable, ever again. So the Order helped. Because that was kind of just what they did. The house was just sitting here, and the new residents were more than willing to pay a little rent and deal with maintenance. Brian had picked up a job as a truck driver, Suri worked as a barista, Jose was - Sarah was pretty sure about this - doing data entry and flagrantly cheating. The fact that their ¡®rent¡¯ was, like, a hundred bucks a month probably helped with the general friendly mood in the house. The human residents were supplemented with a pair of camracaonds. Who had arguably either a better, or worse, history of trauma. Echos-Crashing-Waves and Feeling-Of-Home both lived here as well, and *so far* there hadn¡¯t been any problems with the mixed-species home. Feeling-Of-Home actually was a member of the Order, recently having become a recognized Knight and having a place on a Response team. But Echos-Crashing-Waves just¡­ well, he wanted to be somewhere else. He¡¯d survived years living on the edge of doom within the Office. And while the colony of liberated camracondas *had* a culture, it wasn¡¯t exactly a strongly rooted set of traditions. They weren¡¯t a monolith, basically. Some of them wanted to join the people who¡¯d saved them. Some of them wanted to take time to discover themselves. And some, like Echos, just wanted to live away from all the chaos, meet a few new people, and spend their days watching nature documentaries. Sarah loved all of them. Especially Jose, who was serving her goat cheese. She tried to stop in every time she came to visit Clutter Ascent, just to check up on all of them. And not just because they fed her. They were all wonderful people, and Sarah loved each of them dearly. She¡¯d once heard one of the newer members of a Response team, upon hearing about James¡¯ romantic life, complain that humans weren¡¯t meant to love more than one person. She found that position to be dumb, and cowardly. Love wasn¡¯t about you. It was about finding things to love in others. Once you had that secret, you had everything you needed. Sarah was pretty sure Clutter Ascent agreed with her, insofar as a dungeon thought in any similar way to a human. But it was a confident guess on her part, and as she clambered up the steps into the attic, she felt an aura surround her that reminded her of chocolate chip cookies on a summer afternoon. The feeling of comfort and safety that she missed painfully out in the real world. Kelly was out today. Their newest full time mental health specialist used a part of Clutter as a private area for therapy and counseling. She had a sign up by the stairs, a little plaque hanging from a string of pink hearts informing everyone that the doctor was out. Sarah smiled at it. Kelly was, in addition to acting as a trauma specialist for a lot of the high schooler¡¯s that had survived the attack from the Sewer, doing long term research on the influence of Clutter¡¯s peaceful atmosphere. She had even supplied her own intern, which was amusing. He¡¯d been checked out first, obviously. They weren¡¯t gonna let people just bring random interns in without *some* safety measures. But for the vast majority of people, there wasn¡¯t a reason to say no. Sarah followed a path that she *almost* knew, but that changed on a whim sometimes, through distortedly tall chests of drawers and blinking balls of tangled Christmas lights. At one point, she passed by a dresser with a simple jewelry box sitting on it in plain view, a certain curious vibe to it. These kinds of things popped up sometimes, and Sarah smiled as she reached out to open it. Six minutes later, she¡¯d pieced together the scene of standing on a sandy beach staring up at the stars minutes after the sun had set. The jewelry box held a relationstick, a word that she still internally giggled at, and Sarah pocketed it with a vague intention to pass it off to someone else in the future. Her hand was already marked with a nebula of circles, over a dozen people she had formed connections with. Already, she could share intuition with her production assistant as long as the two of them were in the same city, and stamina with the camraconda high priestess if they could hear each other. The rest, well, she¡¯d unlock them with time. Time and charm! That was her secret weapon. Continuing her pathfinding, Sarah paused briefly to share what was left of her toast and cheese that she¡¯d been holding in her off hand with Umbra and Rufus when the two of them ¡®ambushed¡¯ her. Umbra¡¯s idea of an ambush was making startling noises and then demanding snacks. Rufus¡¯ idea¡­ Sarah met Rufus¡¯ eye, and nodded at the supervising stapler. If Rufus actually wanted to set an ambush, she was pretty sure he could kill a human in the opening five seconds. But instead, here he was being a kind of dungeon big brother to a growing Umbra. Rufus nodded back, and Sarah kept moving, the two of them tailing her for a while until Umbra got distracted by a noise in the distance and lit off after it, multitude of limbs unfolding to carry him up over the furniture and across the ceiling, Rufus taking dramatic hops to follow. Sarah was laughing as she pushed her way through the front entrance of the blanket fort that they¡¯d built last month. It was different than the first one. They actually built a new one every few weeks, just for fun, and also so nothing stagnated in the growing dungeon. This was a bit of a problem. None of them had a *clue* how dungeons grew or lived or anything at all. They certainly didn¡¯t know how or why they changed what magic they produced, though they knew that Clutter certainly could, and had once already. They were taking every note they could about Clutter¡¯s behavior and patterns, but in the end, it was a lot of guessing and a lot of maybes. At every step, they were making broad assumptions and trying to blindly guess at how to proceed without hurting Clutter in any way. They had *two* people here who were more or less trained in child development now. The original preschool teacher that James had hired, and a part time professional nanny who was helping them identify behavior cues. And, miraculously, it seemed like it was working. Paying attention to how the dungeon reacted, and acting in good faith, was leading to the continued development of a space that was magical, without being hostile. Sarah wasn¡¯t going to say that it wasn¡¯t *dangerous*. But it certainly was different from every other dungeon they¡¯d found. The life it was creating was more like particularly smart and curious raccoons than dedicated combat forms. And up in the attic¡¯s own attic, Sarah still had an ongoing project trying to find a way to stabilize the living cloud that Clutter had made. Right now, though, she was here for a different reason. It wasn¡¯t anything serious, she really was just here to check up on things. The placement of the puzzle boxes really did make it seem like Clutter enjoyed sharing the challenges with them, so Sarah did a couple more that had popped up here, experiencing a golden sunset, and a rainy night for another pair of relationsticks. She read a chapter of the book she was going through with the dungeon out loud from a pile of pillows. She took notes on the boundaries of the dungeon¡¯s expansion, updating their map to where the borders of space extended far beyond the house¡¯s original floor plan. And then she tried to make sense of the book. It had appeared one day out of nowhere, which wasn¡¯t exactly uncommon for this place. Nested slightly askew between a worn, dog eared copy of The Practice Effect, and a brand new copy of Good Omens, the book had almost instantly caught Sarah¡¯s attention as a creation from Clutter. She knew that James and Alanna could feel stuff from the Office, and El had a similar vibe check for Horizon, so it made sense that the place she spent most of her time would give her a similar synchronicity. What had surprised her more was the book itself. She had no idea what it did. It was almost comically magical. The cover was a shifting galaxy of stars, arranging itself into patterns that *suggested* at the presence of great beasts and heroic knights. The words inside were complex runic arrangements that said nothing, but *felt* like the weight of a story. And yet, aside from that, it just seemed to be¡­ a book. A perfectly normal book, that was an inch thick and weighed twenty pounds, bound in void-black leather that came from no living creature on Earth, with stars on the cover. Sarah had been trying to read the book for weeks. It was driving her slightly mad. There was a moment, briefly, where she had *almost* said something that she¡¯d once been told by her mom. ¡°I don¡¯t understand, but I¡¯m glad you made something you like.¡± Sarah had reigned that impulse in, and flipped a page, trying to sort out what story was being told. One way or another, she¡¯d crack this one. And then she could maybe talk to her dungeon friend about the book they¡¯d made. _____ El was having a pretty meh day. Which was impressive, because two days ago, she¡¯d gotten [+1 Skill Rank : Weapon - Knife - Switchblade], and right now, she was putting that skill to use slitting a paper pusher open from hip to throat. The spray of ground paper dust and uncomfortably sharp confetti missing her by inches as she pivoted and kicked the stumbling Officium Mundi creature forward with a kick that somehow didn¡¯t unbalance her. Daniel caught the damaged faceless nightmare person in the head with an aluminum bat, bursting its head open in a cloud of gray particles that slowly dusted down to the floor. Dropping her leg back to the floor with a sweep and barely keeping her footing steady through the spike of pain in her side, the two of them did a visual sweep of the area, seeing nothing left to threaten them. Flicking her knife closed and dropping it casually into her pocket, El accepted the soft high five from Daniel as she walked past him to scoop the grapefruit sized greenish-yellow orb into her backpack, while Daniel checked the overturned mail cart - mundane, not alive - that the thing had been pushing for magical cargo. No matter how many of these things they saw and took apart, the stuffed shirts were still terrifying to El. Blank faces, that somehow had mouths and eyes. *Absolutely* inhuman, and you knew it from the moment you laid eyes on one. They¡¯d run into so many types at this point, El was starting to keep score. There were the ¡®normal¡¯ ones, that just screamed corporate jargon at you and tried to break your bones. There were the ones that liked to pretend they were bipedal until they noticed you, then they¡¯d drop to all fours and howl like wolves. There were ones with ¡®faces¡¯, which were actually a symbiotic mask thing, and that was gross on its own. And there were the ones that just delivered the mail, who would often try to hex you with some kind of attack infomorph. El hated all of them. But not in an active way. More of a ¡®ugh, one of these things¡¯ kind of way. And also in a ¡®what a twisted mirror of humanity; how could anything see this as the totality of a person, oh right, office jobs do this to people anyway¡¯ kind of way. ¡°Purple here.¡± Daniel said, tossing it into the backpack as she held it open for him, distracting El from her glaring at the shredded paper corpse. With a fluid motion, she zipped up the pack and whipped it back into a comfortable spot over the armor she was wearing. They¡¯d given her armor, but El liked her freedom of movement too much to do the whole ensemble. She wore the arm and leg guards just fine, but she wasn¡¯t cramming herself into that stupid bug looking chestplate. ¡°Okay, good to go.¡± She replied softly, the two of them keeping their voices down. They were out in the deep dungeon. Where architecture got weird, and surprises were painful. Keeping quiet here was a defense mechanism, and they¡¯d stay quiet right up until they swept the cubicle tower they were headed toward and telepaded back to Fort Door Take Two. Well, *they* would. ¡°You two are way too good at this shit.¡± Theo said, just a little too loudly. El and Daniel both froze up momentarially, listening sharply for any sudden movements around them over the rustling of the dot matrix paper vines that lined the cubicle walls. Nothing. Safe, for now. ¡°Keep it down, moron.¡± El said. First thing she¡¯d learned in a dungeon, and not this one, was that whispering was *loud*. You didn¡¯t whisper. You spoke, quietly. ¡°You can be less mean.¡± Daniel chastised her. ¡°But, uh¡­ yeah, please be quiet, Theo.¡± He looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck where a fairly recently grown skulljack sat. ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s out there.¡± Theo rolled her eyes, but did oblige. ¡°Whatever it is, maybe you can kill that too.¡± She grumbled. ¡°You know, I remember you being a wuss.¡± She told Daniel. ¡°That was a long time ago.¡± ¡°Oh it was *not*.¡± She snorted. ¡°I¡¯m just feelin¡¯ useless here.¡± Daniel looked around at the tall beige walls around them, a routine sweep for staplers or mice sneaking up on them, but also a good excuse to not say anything. El took the pause as an opportunity. ¡°Why¡¯d you even come along, if you aren¡¯t gonna fight?¡± ¡°Hey, I¡¯ll fight!¡± Theo objected. ¡°But you¡¯ve got it handled. And I¡¯m just here as backup, or something. Maybe some kind of pack mule. Wait, no. Ugh, I dunno!¡± She winced as her voice got a little too loud, bringing it back under control quickly. ¡°I hate this place. But I need the cash, and I¡¯ll try to be less of a bitch about it.¡± El sighed, taking her turn at rolling her eyes, but saying ¡°Yeah, alright. I¡¯ll keep the bitchiness down too.¡± Before asking ¡°If you hate this place, why keep coming back in? You know James¡¯d just give you the cash.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± Daniel confirmed. ¡°He¡¯s a giant softie.¡± ¡°How do you *not* hate this place?¡± Theo asked Daniel. ¡°It ruined our lives.¡± ¡°It¡­ didn¡¯t do that to me.¡± Daniel said softly. He reached out his left hand to the side, and an orange shimmer pulled away from the limb, forming a ghostly echo of a hand. He turned his own hand, and the glowing shadow turned too, and they intertwined their fingers. ¡°It gave me something special.¡± He said. They walked as they talked, the low conversation failing to be loud enough to distract from spotting ambushes. And there *were* ambushes, this far out. Three, four, maybe five miles from the tower. El had walked five miles *inside a building*, and her brain still didn¡¯t know how to do anything with that information. ¡°So, how¡¯s the whole non-corporal romance work?¡± She asked Daniel. ¡°Does she ever ghost you?¡± ¡°Corporeal.¡± He corrected her, smiling like he couldn¡¯t hold the feeling inside, seeming to just slide over her joke. ¡°And I don¡¯t really know. Don¡¯t have anything to compare it to. How about you? Getting along with Speaky?¡± Daniel named the infomorph that had been growing in El¡¯s mind ever since James had put it there to kill off whatever the Route had been using to keep her from talking. They paused as they came to a covered intersection. The shadows stretched long here, lights overhead making sharp lines where the walls curved over the narrow hallways. The intersection had a vending machine in it, though, wedged between where two new corridors split off at weird angles. In the blue-purple light of its front face, Daniel could make out a potted plant that was entirely too suspicious. Cutting the conversation short, he gave Theo a nod to watch their rear, while he and El circled the plant, lunged together, and snapped it¡¯s trunk near the base. It dropped a few small orbs. They split them. [+1 Skill Rank : Logistics - Shipping - Eastern Canada] for Daniel, and [+1 Skill Rank : Theater - Improv] for El. Theo saved hers. They moved on, until they passed out of the dark area and back into the fluorescent day. ¡°So, the thing is,¡± El continued their conversation twenty minutes later when they found a patch of safe, non-trapped cubicles to search over and rest in, ¡°I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m doing.¡± Theo opened her mouth to comment from her seat in front of the computer as she tried to crack its password, but Daniel held out a hand. ¡°She means about the infomorph.¡± He cut off the potential sniped insult. ¡°And¡­ yep. Good luck!¡± ¡°Oh, come on!¡± El griped. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta know something. How¡¯d Path get¡­ you know¡­ better?¡± ¡°Different species.¡± Daniel reminded her. ¡°Talk to James or something. Or go find your own cartomorph! Just ask JP for a venture into the Horizon. Get Speaky a sibling.¡± ¡°Yeah, get more extra people living in your head. Great idea.¡± Theo snorted. ¡°You people¡­ this is why I didn¡¯t want to join up, you know? You have zero respect for what it means to be human.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck *off*.¡± El glared back at her pointlessly, Theo still focused on the screen. ¡°You didn¡¯t seem to mind when we made you immune to cancer, or paid your rent for a decade.¡± ¡°That¡¯s different.¡± Theo offered. ¡°With that, I¡¯m¡­¡± Whatever she was going to say was cut off as a glowing red fish-shaped blob of light shot out of the computer screen, darted through her chest, and shot away into the hallway. El snatched for it, but missed, and the creature was gone in a heartbeat, diving down a dark hall before taking a corner and vanishing. ¡°Uh oh.¡± Daniel said, eyebrows raised. ¡°What was *that*?!¡± Theo said. ¡°Uh¡­ check your wallet, I guess?¡± Daniel said. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen one of those in a while. Ops says that they steal personal info, so you might need, like, a new driver¡¯s license or debit card or something.¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t use a debit card.¡± Theo said, like she was on autopilot. El and Daniel looked at each other with knowing expressions. ¡°Debit card.¡± They echoed. They let it go. The card was replaceable. Their lives, chasing a tiny fast dungeon Life through dark cubicle corridors, were not. A half dozen small moments made up the next two hours. Picking off striders that got too close, spotting a glittering decision tree in the distance, crossing a burbling river of hot printer ink on a precarious bridge of cubicle walls, El feeding a maul cart some junk mail she¡¯d brought along with a massive grin on her face. It all flowed together as they kept moving. Theo even stopped needling her after she realized that she could just ignore the angry woman. El didn¡¯t get Theo. El was angry, yeah. And El realized she was an asshole sometimes, but she was actually working on it. Theo just seemed mad that the world was different than she¡¯d expected, and hadn''t changed to adapt. At one point, when Theo had rounded a corner ahead of them, taking her turn in the lead to scout quietly, Daniel had set a hand on El¡¯s shoulder and given her a questioning look. El had taken the second to stop, take a breath, and use the trick her therapist had taught her to push away her annoyance for a minute and look at things clearly. She¡¯d shrugged at Daniel, and he¡¯d nodded back, and both of them knew they weren¡¯t going to delve with Theo again. Three hours later, they were standing at the top of a cubicle tower, a trail of defenders cut down behind them. Mostly 2.0s, which had fucked up her hair style *again*, and one particularly aggressive camraconda that El had felt *super* bad about knifing through the chest. Camracondas didn¡¯t read as monsters to her anymore. It felt like killing a kid. They¡¯d teleported back. Dropped off the duffel bag full of coffee grounds that was worth more than El¡¯s entire life earnings a dozen times over. El found a quiet spot to wipe her tears away in, while Daniel passed off the bag of orbs to their quartermaster to be distributed later. The cluster of eight small greens got a grin from the old guy doing inventory; El was pretty sure he was one of the people doing construction for them, so that checked out. ¡°You doing okay?¡± Daniel asked her, concerned. ¡°Yeah, leg just hurts. You know how scars are sexy?¡± She asked. ¡°No?¡± ¡°Oh. Well, good. Cause they hurt.¡± She rubbed at the lines in her flesh where one of the asphalt things had carved into her a couple months back. ¡°You got Theo¡¯s money stack?¡± ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s pay her and get back to doing something useful.¡± It was the closest she¡¯d heard Daniel come to being sarcastic, and El snorted a laugh at it. They gave Theo her money, and she gave them a half-baked apology about being a jerk for the evening. And then, before leaving, she¡¯d said something that hadn¡¯t left El¡¯s head since. ¡°You two work way too well as a team.¡± They did, El realized. Which was weird, because she wasn¡¯t really a team player. She¡¯d always done this alone. And yeah, she¡¯d had time to learn since really actually joining the Order. But¡­ she just didn¡¯t have the same experience being on a team that everyone else did. And yet, she meshed perfectly with Daniel when the two of them ran supply delves like this. She knew where to stand to be out of the way, knew where to cover to keep her partner safe, and she knew without actually thinking about it. She mentally poked at the infomorph living in her. Was he, maybe, doing this? There was no response, of course. He was still young. Couldn¡¯t manifest outside of a particularly deep dream. So probably not. So why was she so good at this? El frowned as she rolled the thought around her mind like a loose tooth. One way or another, she decided, she¡¯d crack this one. And then figure out where to go from there. _____ If you asked him, Dave would say his day was going fine. Dave didn¡¯t really have a good framework for determining what constituted a bad day. Usually, he just assumed that any day he got through without some kind of emotional screw up was pretty alright, and went from there. That had gotten a lot easier, as the problems in his life had shifted away from managing the logistics of a chaotic work schedule, and toward fighting monsters and saving the world. Weirdly. He was given to understand that for most people, stressful situations like that were somewhat traumatic. And it wasn¡¯t like he was going to lie and say he didn¡¯t experience stress or something stupid like that. But fundamentally, it was just that a direct engagement with someone trying to kill him and the people he knew was refreshingly simple. Right now, he was sitting in the front seat of a panel van next to JP, dealing with a rather non-simple problem, and he wasn¡¯t a huge fan. ¡°So, why not just ask them?¡± He was asking his friend. ¡°Because, again, if there¡¯s some kind of magical mental parasite that¡¯s replacing people, you can¡¯t trust those people to answer honestly.¡± JP explained the same point for the third time. Dave nodded, mostly just because the gesture was an expected one, and then ruined it by continuing. ¡°Right, right. But what I¡¯m saying is, what if you ask the parasite? Which seems like a rude thing to call it, by the way.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not being nice to the thing that kills people.¡± JP shot back without thinking. ¡°I kill people.¡± Dave said simply. JP had been through a lot of turmoil in his life lately, but he still, on a deep and fundamental level, knew that he wasn¡¯t going to let Dave pull that shit with him. ¡°Self defense is different from eating people¡¯s brains and puppeting their bodies, you dumbass.¡± He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, not taking his eyes off the car ahead of them. ¡°Let me know if you and Pen start, I dunno, eating random farmers or something.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯d find people very tasty.¡± Dave joked, giving a single dry laugh. ¡°Okay, so, you don¡¯t want to talk to the potion monster. Why bother spying then?¡± Moving the van as the light changed, keeping a few cars behind the one they were currently tailing, JP gave a resigned huff. ¡°Lots of reasons. Do you want a list?¡± ¡°I mean, you made me come along as backup, and Pen¡¯s *really* uncomfortable back there, so it seems like you owe me?¡± Dave half asked half questioned. Holding up one hand, JP started counting off. ¡°Because they could spread to more people, because they might try to retaliate against us if they learn that James didn¡¯t get converted properly, because the Alchemists have a lot of networking contacts and they could be a threat through that, because we need to know what their actual plans *are*, and no, we can¡¯t just ask them because they might lie, because their existence is a form of lying to begin with.¡± He took a deep breath, then kept going, having lost track of how many points he¡¯d made, now counting on his other hand and driving with his knees. ¡°Also! Because technically we *tried* to ask them, and it didn¡¯t work! And then on a more pragmatic me-style level, because learning how they make potions would be really valuable, because they probably have a vault somewhere with a bunch of cool stuff in it, and because they¡¯ve personally offended me.¡± Dave cleared his throat, and stared at the van¡¯s steering wheel until JP slowly lowered his hands back and took firmer control of the vehicle. He let the conversation lapse for a bit as his friend drove them through a parking lot, keeping sight of the target vehicle as their quarry¡¯s car stopped at a red light, while not following directly behind them. It was a clever little move, but Dave didn¡¯t appreciate all the speed bumps, and he knew Pen didn¡¯t either, coiled up in the back of the van. The van was *far* smaller than Pendragon was. His good girl would have been uncomfortable in a semi trailer. But the simplest possible orange totem that Research had managed to build all on their own was currently expanding the space available in the van, and while it was impressive, it also meant that speed bumps had a greater subjective motion for whoever was in the back. Like, in this case, the aircraft sized aluminum plated dragon, who was, almost certainly, not happy. ¡°Sooooo¡­¡± Dave picked up the conversation as they reentered the flow of traffic a few cars back from their target. ¡°This is personal for you, eh?¡± ¡°Dave, I swear to god, I need you to not psychoanalyze me right now.¡± JP bluntly told him. Then, he abruptly changed the subject. ¡°Hey, actually, it¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve really hung out. How¡¯re you doing? Up to anything fun?¡± Against anyone else JP knew, the flagrant attempt to deflect the conversation would have been detected, and shot down. Against Dave, well¡­ It wasn¡¯t that Dave didn¡¯t get what JP was doing. It was more that he was perfectly fine just answering the question and pivoting what they were talking about. ¡°I¡¯ve been pretty good!¡± Dave answered. ¡°Been staying out with my grandpa, mostly. He¡¯s got this giant farm down in Grant¡¯s Pass, and there¡¯s basically no one down there, so I spend a lot of time flying with Pen, making sure she¡¯s growing okay, that kinda thing. Also helping out with the animals. He¡¯s got a bunch of wildlife rescues, so I get to play with raccoons and foxes and stuff. It¡¯s nice.¡± Closing his eyes firmly, JP tilted his head before replying with ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d actually be jealous of you today, but here we are. Can I come play with the raccoons?¡± ¡°Oh, sure. They can¡¯t be released, they¡¯ve been with him since they were tiny. No idea how to survive in the wild.¡± Dave answered easily. ¡°I am so happy right now.¡± JP muttered angrily. ¡°Also, what¡¯s he grow?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Your grandpa. On the farm. What¡¯s he grow on the farm?¡± JP inquired, making casual conversation. Dave didn¡¯t answer right away, instead thumping his head back into the headrest of his seat, and staring at the van¡¯s ceiling in silence, mouth hanging open. ¡°Uh¡­¡± He uttered a confused noise. ¡°I¡­ have no idea?¡± ¡°Comforting.¡± JP lied. ¡°Wheat, probably?¡± Dave didn¡¯t look down, tapping at his arms. ¡°Or¡­ is ¡®hay¡¯ a crop? There¡¯s a lot of grass. Honestly, being gone half the time doesn¡¯t help me learn, probably.¡± JP nodded. ¡°How¡¯s your uncle with the whole¡­ dragon¡­ thing?¡± ¡°I think he thinks Pendragon¡¯s a student project. But aside from that, he likes her?¡± Dave sighed. ¡°Anyway. Hey, are we gonna delve the Route anytime soon? Now that we know this truck works-¡° ¡°Van.¡± ¡°Now that we know this van works, I¡¯d love to get Pen some airtime. Also¡­ well¡­¡± Dave shrugged. There was something he was missing, in general, from the dungeons. Now, unlike some members of the Order, Dave didn¡¯t actually have a problem with the mundane world. He also didn¡¯t like how everyone used ¡®real¡¯ and ¡®dungeon¡¯ as if they were different types of worlds. Any world was as real as another. And being out and about with people and geography that wasn¡¯t formed by a hostile alien mind was just as interesting to Dave as being in an endless office or a demonic sewer. At a certain point, if everything was equally strange around you, it really didn¡¯t matter if it involved an endless string of weird traps or not. And yet, Dave actually really liked dungeon delves. About as equally as he liked hanging out with raccoons. It was just something cool. But *also*, the dungeons had stuff in them, and he wanted that stuff. Because it was magic. That part seemed self explanatory. JP made a derisive noise, cutting off Dave¡¯s thought process. ¡°Nope. Not going in until we¡¯ve cleared out the city.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Dave deflated, looking back out the window to track the Alchemist car they were tailing. ¡°How long will that take? You need more help?¡± ¡°Dude¡­¡± JP sighed. Sometimes he didn¡¯t know what to do with his friend. ¡°Do you want me to actually explain why that¡¯s a stupid thing to say?¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good.¡± Dave smirked, ignoring the verbal snipe. ¡°I mean, I trust you in general.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Mostly I¡¯m just sorta interested in the whole resource exploitation thing, you know? I¡¯ve been sorta curious about it, because with the *road*, the only thing I can really imagine being useful is¡­ uh¡­ road? And road isn¡¯t exactly a rare resource.¡± ¡°Are we actually doing this now?¡± JP groaned. ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of tailing someone who probably has some weird murder-magic, and we¡¯re doing this.¡± With a second, and then a third look at the car that was now slightly behind them and one lane over, Dave processed that thought. On the one hand, JP could be right. On the other hand, the most dangerous thing they¡¯d seen from this guy so far was that he didn¡¯t signal when changing lanes. Eventually, he shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll take the chance.¡± He settled on. ¡°So, asphalt? Sand, I guess. Didn¡¯t I hear something about how the plants there were just normal plants from Earth that were hilariously invasive species?¡± ¡°Is that what James called them?¡± JP snorted. ¡°Yeah. Mostly. Look, I¡¯m not the person to ask about this. I¡¯m here for the social stuff. But *yeah, sure*, I guess it doesn¡¯t really help to steal entire strips of asphalt! I don¡¯t know! It¡¯s not like we¡¯ve tried digging in the middle of the road-desert or anything. We¡¯ll get there eventually, probably.¡± ¡°There¡¯s got to be better ways to find mineral resources than randomly digging.¡± Dave suggested in the voice he used for when he knew he was right. ¡°But I guess we could use it for making more of the big golem things? We¡¯ve got the orb that-¡° ¡°Hold that thought.¡± JP¡¯s voice went hard, and Dave shut up instantly. The car they were after had just turned. Off the main road, into one of those connecting veins that strung through suburbia. They caught a good look at the driver as the car turned, another older gentleman with an angry frown and a salt and pepper beard. He hadn¡¯t said anything since getting in his car. The other two had; audio bugs had picked them up quite clearly as they almost *instantly* dialed their fellow Alchemists, and while they spoke in what was obviously coded language, the tension in the voices was enough to let everyone listening from the Order know that it wasn¡¯t just a polite check in. One of the others had driven home, breaking the speed limit by a *lot*, and hadn¡¯t come out of their mansion since. The other had gone straight to the old manor house that the Alchemists used as a place for their gatherings and a sort of storefront for anyone who could actually find them. This one, though? He had said absolutely nothing. Just driven, using a few tricks that Nate had shown the Order¡¯s rogues to evade any potential tails. Dave was mostly here as muscle, and to bother JP, but he was pretty sure they hadn¡¯t been specifically spotted. Their quarry was just paranoid. Rightly so, but still paranoid. And, in total silence, heading to a seemingly random house in the middle of the middle class suburbs. JP parked the van at the end of the street, just around the corner. And so he and Dave got a pretty clear view as, all at the same time, three different cars pulled up in the same driveway, their tailed Alchemist pulling in alongside a pickup truck like they¡¯d choreographed it. Three people got out of three cars, not even acknowledging each other, wordlessly walking up the cobblestone path and into the unlocked front door together. ¡°Okay.¡± JP said, dialing Nate¡¯s number. ¡°I think we just found our parasite.¡± Dave nodded, turning to peak into the back of the van through the tiny little window. They¡¯d gotten a lucky break, but it was still worth checking to make sure Pendragon was ready to go. Because one way or another, they were going to crack this one. Chapter 176 ¡°Art is where what we survive survives.¡± -The Palace, Kavah Akbar- _____ The last weekend of November had been, for as long as Alanna could remember, a long weekend. Thanksgiving in her country was one of those holidays where it was by design perfectly placed to make schools throw up their hands and go ¡®fine, you can have Friday off too, I guess!¡¯ And it had always been welcome when she was in high school. Mostly because she¡¯d had a part time job to help take care of her younger sisters, and it was a couple days when almost everything was still open, but the rest of her friends were doing family stuff, so she could pick up shifts without feeling like she was missing anything. After leaving high school, and almost losing touch with her friends as half of them went off to college while she went off to learn how to replace a radiator, the long weekend changed a bit. She worked somewhere that actually did take Thanksgiving off. And everyone she actually cared about had sort of drifted away from their families, or didn¡¯t have access to them. So it became a time when she could, guilt free, spend days with her friends just catching up and actually being friends. And then life had happened. A few years, a few fights, a little magic. And all of a sudden, it hadn¡¯t been much of a thing for her anymore. The last year or two, it had just been another day, and Alanna had either been in the middle of fighting some weird monster, or just distracted with something more important. Her work and her life were the same now, and her friends were a family that surrounded her constantly. She didn¡¯t need a special day for it. Even though they¡¯d had a fancy dinner anyway. All of this was preamble to the fact that it was deeply ironic that she was, on Thanksgiving, in a high school. Working. Because the wireless cameras they had left up by the dungeon entrance had all been disabled one by one, and then Lua had called and reported something ratroach-shaped moving through the school. ¡°Radios on.¡± Alanna said, checking they were sharing a frequency. ¡°Alex, Matt, Sarah, you¡¯re group one. Tyrone, with me, we¡¯re group two. Lua, you¡¯re with us.¡± Lua, who had let them into the lower level, added her own comment. ¡°Please be careful.¡± She said. ¡°There¡¯s still staff in the building.¡± ¡°Okay. We¡¯ll sweep upstairs first. You guys get the cafeteria and ground floor.¡± Alanna directed. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to fight the police today again, so try to look professional if anyone stops you, and keep your guns hidden, okay?¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am!¡± Sarah gave Alanna a dramatic sailor¡¯s salute. Alanna frowned at her friend. ¡°Hey, come on. Be a little serious here. This is our responsibility.¡± She chided. Not unfriendly, really, but Alanna was a *little* on edge. After all, the whole problem was the result of the Order running experiments. ¡°Alanna, you are my best friend, and I love you.¡± Sarah was best friends with at least six people. ¡°But you put me on a hunting squad. Me. Meeeeee.¡± Sarah pirouetted a little to show off her lithe form. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, this place is gross, and I¡¯m here to help, but you shoulda picked someone else if you wanted a *professional* fighter.¡± Tyrone leaned around Alanna, keeping his voice low like they were on a delve. ¡°I know I¡¯m not around the Lair that much, but¡­ do we even have professional fighters? Seems kinda fucky for us, ya know?¡± ¡°We do not.¡± Alanna said. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re all here. No one in the Order actually likes fighting, you¡¯re just the most experienced people available.¡± Matt cleared his throat and raised a hand with a cocky confidence. ¡°I like fighting.¡± He informed her. Alanna eyed the young man suspiciously. Brown hair trimmed pretty short, big nose that looked like it¡¯d been broken at least once, bomber jacket and boxers wraps on his hands. ¡°I believe you.¡± She said, deciding not to add that she didn¡¯t really believe that was the whole story, if he was an active Response member. Whatever Response actually was, one thing they were for certain was ¡®trying to be better than the police¡¯. And part of that was, they really just didn¡¯t recruit people who actually *liked* fighting. ¡°So, how many ratroaches?¡± Alex broke the awkward silence, asking Lua the question she¡¯d missed in the briefing. She also left out that she kinda liked the fighting. Or at least, the excitement. ¡°One? Two? More?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Lua admitted. ¡°At least one. I¡¯ve seen it around, lurking. And some of the small rats, too.¡± Here was one thing the Order knew; if you left a dungeon alone long enough, it started to get creative. And for the Akashic Sewer, ¡®getting creative¡¯ meant opening a new entrance somewhere, and firing a handful of monsters out into the school like organic bullets. It had happened once, and the Order had mostly kept it from happening again. But they needed to know more real facts about the process, so, under the most vigilant observation they could keep the public and in-use building, they let the dungeon sit. Mostly because the last time, it had taken over a month, and Reed had figured the outburst would happen over winter break. But this time, the dungeon moved fast. Two weeks of inactivity, and it was spewing out creatures that were stalking the halls. They¡¯d noticed within minutes. And now, Alanna was here with everyone she could grab, to deal with it. ¡°Okay. Stay alert. Let¡¯s move. These things aren¡¯t exactly *subtle*, so as long as we sweep the building a couple times, we should get them all. And then, we¡¯re not doing this again until summer, and Reed can take it up with me if he complains.¡± She said the last part without considering that there weren¡¯t any actual Research members here to pass on that memo. The two teams wished each other good luck, put on the random assortment of vision enhancing glasses they had, and pivoted to take different parts of the school. Rubber safety strips on the stairs squeaked under Alanna¡¯s boots as she climbed, wincing at the noise in the empty building. There was a weird qualitative difference between the emptiness of Officium Mundi and the emptiness of a mundane building. Here was a place that was empty because people were just temporarily not around. No magic, no weirdness. It was just a building. But lacking all the life and context of its actual normal operations, it felt strangely tense. The Office felt tense because it was never normal. And it was full of hostile things that wanted to eat her. Also, sometimes, cute things that you could make friends with. Or *ugly* things you could make friends with. Alanna mentally bopped herself on the head as she remembered that the ratroaches were, or at least *could be* people. ¡°Hey. Someone over there.¡± Tyrone nudged her with an elbow, pointing across the railing and the gap that showed the ground floor to the other side of the school, where motion could be seen through one of the classroom windows. ¡°Maybe they¡¯ve seen something.¡± ¡°Good call.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Lua, you stay between us, okay?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t have to tell me twice.¡± The unfortunately battle hardened therapist softly mumbled. The three of them moved to circle the upper walkway, Alanna trying to take smaller steps so the others could keep up. She kept her eyes open as they passed by the big metal security doors that led into the depths of the school and the maze of classrooms that lived there. Which was good, because it was why when the ratroach exploded out from around a corner, trying to drive a splintered chunk of a table leg into her neck, Alanna was more than ready. She caught the creature¡¯s arm. One of them, anyway. The other three - why did it have one more than normal? - came around in a roughly coherent wide swing, a trio of haymakers aimed for her exposed side. Alanna just let them hit, counting on the fact that individual ratroaches really didn¡¯t have that much muscle mass to keep her safe. Well, that, and the thick leather of the coat she was wearing. The awkwardly clenched fists thudded into her side, one hitting her in the side of the head, the other two sliding off her coat without even stinging. This ratroach¡¯s chitinous three fingered hands just weren¡¯t suited for making fists with. Alanna didn¡¯t react to the strike that had hit, instead grabbing that arm, too, and glaring down at the distorted rodent face of the monster that was trying to kill her. She didn¡¯t really know what she was looking for. Intelligence, maybe? Some hint of thought beyond anger? Or maybe whatever spark it was that powered a person; something they could nurture and grow into someone beyond a killing machine. Alanna didn¡¯t see anything but a slavering hate. The ratroach hissing wetly, spraying drops of acidic spittle onto her coat, struggling to free the arms she¡¯d pinned, snapping at her, kicking frantically. All it wanted to do was hurt her. By the time Alanna had assessed it, Tyrone had moved Lua back with an outstretched arm and was reaching for his weapon, but Alanna shook her head at him. ¡°I¡¯ve got this.¡± She said. It was almost sad how badly put together the thing was. And how, one on one, Alanna wasn¡¯t even sure one of them *could* hurt her. She wrenched its arms forward, and when the ratroach stumbled on its mismatched digitigrade legs, she spun it and wrapped an arm around its throat. Then, she squeezed until chitin and bone popped and snapped, crushing its neck until its struggles stopped and she dropped the dead shell to the floor. ¡°Jesus.¡± Tyrone muttered. ¡°That¡¯s fucking terrifying.¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t good independent hunters.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t let them catch you by surprise, and if you need to, go for breaking arms or hitting their torso; their organs are fragile. Not that scary.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± Tyrone said, quietly enough that only Lua heard him. They grabbed the light body and hauled it out to the van in the parking lot. Leaving this behind was just dangerous, both from a security perspective, and also just because letting something with acid blood lay dead on the floor of a high school sounded stupid. Then, they jogged back, and continued the sweep. The trio ran into one teacher, working late in a computer lab. Lua greeted him by name, and he gave a nervous look at the two knights behind her. Alanna had peeked at him with the affiliation glasses she was wearing, but he just read as a normal high school teacher. ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± Lua told him, with more confidence than she really felt. ¡°I¡¯m fine, and they¡¯re here to help. But also¡­ maybe a long lunch break?¡± She cleared her throat dramatically. ¡°Off campus?¡± The teacher nodded his shiny bald head. ¡°Yeeeeeah.¡± He agreed. ¡°Yeah. I could go for some salad.¡± He said, grabbing his coat and vacating the building. Just in time, too. They ran into another ratroach just down the hall from his office, prowling around the corner of a row of lockers. Tyrone hit it with a chair. When they were just finishing their first circuit of the upstairs, the unmistakable noise of gunshots rang out from somewhere below. Sharing a glance and a quick plan, Alanna left the other two to catch up, and bolted to join the others. She arrived to an ongoing crisis, but not the one she¡¯d expected. On the concrete ramp leading down to the lower levels of the school, the band and drama rooms, there were two dead ratroaches. Their greenish red blood splattered in the kind of rough sprays you got when you shot something and the bullet went right through. Slightly past them, near the door to the boiler room where they¡¯d first found this idiot dungeon¡¯s portal, Alex and Matt stood with guns drawn pointed farther down the ramp, while Sarah stood farther up with her hands raised, saying something in a calming voice. Probably trying to talk down the cop that was pointing a gun back at them. Alanna slowed herself; going into this at a sprint would be an idiot move. Instead, she took a deep breath, steadied herself, and walked into the scene like she owned the place. ¡°Officer Rourke. Good to see you again.¡± Alanna said calmly. The gun pivoted to face her, and she mentally nudged her shield bracer to match the caliber of bullet. The bracers, it turned out, could only actually protect against things they¡¯d seen before. But it wasn¡¯t hard to add 9mm bullets to the list for all of them. ¡°Hands in the air.¡± The cop barked. ¡°No.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Do you not remember us?¡± She asked. ¡°I mean, we haven¡¯t met personally. But you know who we are. We¡¯ve talked before.¡± The man stared at her, narrowed eyes flicking between Alanna and the others. At the top of the ramp, Tyrone and Lua caught up, but stayed back as Alanna held a hand up. The school¡¯s resident police officer was sweating, forehead furrowed as his hands trembled on his gun. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ what¡­¡± ¡°Lua.¡± Alanna said softly, not taking her eyes off Rourke. ¡°You¡¯re running Planner, right?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± The counselor answered. ¡°Wh- oh no. Oh, he¡¯s been infected?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± Alanna said. She was confident, though. She could feel, broadcast off the man in sick waves, the level of confusion and doubt he was feeling. About himself, about reality. He was *afraid*. ¡°Rourke!¡± She put a command into her voice, something for him to latch onto. ¡°Your head¡¯s been fucked with, and you know it! My friend can help you, but you need to put the gun down.¡± ¡°No. No no. You¡¯re not supposed to be here¡­ the school is¡­ the school¡­¡± The officer squeezed his eyes shut, bringing one hand up to massage his forehead. ¡°What¡¯s happening to me?¡± He asked. ¡°I remember you!¡± His voice came out as a hoarse yell. Alanna stepped past Matt and Alex, pushing their raised weapons down. ¡°Sarah, back up please.¡± She muttered, getting her friend out of the line of fire. ¡°Rourke, listen to me. We can help; let us. You know something¡¯s wrong. Just give me the gun.¡± The officer¡¯s eyes flashed with anger as she said that, but Alanna could tell he wasn¡¯t *really* feeling it. Her Empathy, granted by the dungeon below, let her push exactly far enough. She knew almost precisely when to step forward and take the gun out of his grip, without him firing a shot. ¡°Lua!¡± She called, and the therapist came running forward. A quartet of geometric arms formed around her, and reached for the space around officer Rourke. ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid.¡± Lua said in a calming voice. ¡°We¡¯ve got you.¡± ¡°Hm. Yes.¡± Planner¡¯s pen scratch voice drifted through the hall. ¡°Multiple memory eaters. Removed. Removed. Removed.¡± The words punctuated by an arm tearing something out of the air around Rourke, ethereal splatters flaring across the walls before small bursts of red sparks filtered into Planner¡¯s space. ¡°And something else. Deeper. The memories are ruined, but¡­ there is a command here. Something giving orders. He has been compromised heavily. Officer, do you consent to me attempting to remove the intruder?¡± ¡°Oh god, my head feels¡­ ugh.¡± Rourke doubled over. ¡°I can *think*. And I want to fuckin¡¯ puke.¡± ¡°Officer.¡± ¡°Rourke. Let Planner do his job.¡± Alanna urged. ¡°Please?¡± Sarah asked from behind her friend. ¡°Fuck.¡± The officer stabilized himself on the concrete block wall. ¡°Do it. Before I have my mind changed again.¡± Planner¡¯s arms didn¡¯t hesitate, darting into Rourke¡¯s chest in wispy blue light motion. The officer opened his mouth in a silent scream, dropping to his knees, before a second later, one arm pulled away half gone, trailing ghostly blood, and the other came out holding the immaterial concept of the shape of a bully. Planner ripped it in half. A fountain of red light pouring into their remaining arms. ¡°I must¡­ go. I hurt.¡± Planner¡¯s voice sounded strained in a way that Alanna had never heard before. The infomorph just wasn¡¯t a fighter, same as most of them. ¡°Ugh.¡± Rourke pulled himself up. ¡°Okay. Hi.¡± He wheezed out. ¡°What¡­ was that?¡± ¡°Infomorph.¡± Alanna said. ¡°And that¡¯s *bad*. The dungeon was using you as a guard dog. That is *fucking scary*. We need to get a defense against this up, *now*. Matt, Ty, can you get the bodies to the car? Sarah, telepad back, get a purple. We need¡­ I don¡¯t even know.¡± They moved to follow her orders, as if she knew what she was doing. ¡°It wanted me to hunt something.¡± Rourke chimed in, wiping drool off the side of his mouth. ¡°Hi. Again. It was in my head. Telling me I had to kill something.¡± His head slid sideways, and his gaze locked on the boiler room door. ¡°Something in there, I think. That¡¯s where it was taking me.¡± He whispered. Alanna gave the man an appraising look. ¡°Rourke¡­¡± She started, trying to figure out what to say. What should she even say, here? Alanna was just bad at this sort of thing. She knew, in her bones, that there was no point to having power if you weren¡¯t going to use it to fix shit. But she had such a hard time figuring out where to start. She wasn¡¯t like James, who just plowed head first into situations and sorted it out after. Maybe she should be. Maybe her boyfriend had a point. ¡°Rourke.¡± Alanna said again. ¡°Want a job?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Look, you¡¯re obviously a bad cop. You put the gun down instead of yelling and shooting us, and that¡¯s *with* a good excuse.¡± Alanna felt a lot of bitter regret sneak into her words. ¡°We need someone to watch this place. You work here, you¡¯ve got a cover. Join us. We¡¯ll get you a shield against that *ever* happening to you again, and you can actually help keep people safe.¡± She could have grinned if she wasn¡¯t controlling her expression. She felt it off him, so *obvious* when the magic let her see. Alanna knew the moment she said it that he wanted, so badly, to say yes. ¡°No, no.¡± The officer said instead. ¡°I can¡¯t just¡­ quit.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t quit.¡± Alex added. ¡°Alanna means pretend to be a cop, but actually do something useful instead. Maybe quit later.¡± The young girl shrugged. ¡°Or, you know, stick around and get brainwashed again.¡± ¡°Alex, please.¡± Lua sighed. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s right.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°Your call.¡± Rourke had already decided, he just needed the excuse to say yes. ¡°Alright.¡± The not-really-police-officer said. ¡°Yeah, alright.¡± He glanced down at Alanna¡¯s hand. ¡°Can I have my gun back?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh. Sure.¡± She said, handing it over just as Sarah snapped back into existence at the top of the ramp, carrying a small glowing purple ball. ¡°Okay. You ready for your life to get weird?¡± ¡°My life was weird before.¡± Rourke said. ¡°I was *going* to call you guys anyway. But I guess¡­ something else called me first, huh?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be overdramatic.¡± Alanna rolled her eyes. ¡°We already have someone who does that.¡± Sarah slid to a stop in front of him. ¡°Okay! Quick check! Do you consent to sharing your mental space with a symbiotic entity?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ what?¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to make a living creature to live in your brain!¡± Sarah cheerfully announced. ¡°You¡¯ll be responsible for raising them to be a good person, if it comes to that. It might not, though; they might stay dormant and then fade away. But either way, your consent matters.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Rourke looked over at Lua, staring into the air around her. ¡°That¡¯s what¡­ that was?¡± She nodded at him. ¡°Does it hurt?¡± ¡°Not at all.¡± Lua told him, reassuringly. ¡°Planner is very polite. They live in a lot of us, and you hardly notice unless you¡¯re talking to them. It¡¯s¡­ an interesting experience. But one that I find has value.¡± Lua nodded. ¡°And not just because they¡¯re a protector. But also, a companion. Someone close to us all. And if you¡¯ll excuse me, I think I am going to go check on them.¡± She nodded politely and excused herself. ¡°Okay. Do it.¡± Rourke said, making the decision that would change his life. Sarah hopped from one foot to the other, excited energy bleeding into her motions, the fight and the pointed guns already forgotten as she pulled the orb up to her face, and whispered something into it that Alanna couldn¡¯t hear. And then, the orb collapsed into a streamer of glittering dust, the ribbon flowing from Sarah¡¯s hand and into Rourke¡¯s head. She waited for all of it to move out of her grip and into the officer before she clapped her hands. ¡°Done!¡± She announced. ¡°I don¡¯t feel different.¡± Rourke said. ¡°You won¡¯t.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Thats kind of the scary part. But they¡¯ll protect you. And you¡¯ll see them, in your dreams, if you look. Be kind.¡± She ordered the man, who nodded solemnly at her. ¡°Now. One last thing, before we do another sweep and get out of here.¡± She turned to the boiler room door. ¡°What¡¯s behind door number one?¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Alanna wasn¡¯t stupid; she waited for Matt and Tyrone to get back, having dumped the other ratroach corpses and gotten *most* of the blood off their hands. Sarah moved back, keeping an eye on their new potential recruit and carrying on a soft conversation with the man while Alanna moved to the door. The boys pulled their own guns and flanked her, while Alex grabbed the handle, and waited for a nod to open it. The metal door swung open heavily, but without a sound. Alanna, in a crouch at the front of their group, was the first to see inside; a couple large water tanks, a nest of copper pipes, dust and a chemical smell. The place was the same as when they¡¯d first checked it out, albeit missing the hole in mathematical space that the dungeon used to use as a portal. Except this time¡­ ¡°Shit!¡± Matt¡¯s exclamation cut through the air, and he had his gun up before Alanna could stop him. Alex, seeing him moving, yanked the door the rest of the way open and spun to cover the side with her own pistol. Because inside, something was lurking. Curled up under the boiler, an obviously inhuman shape lurked. ¡°Wait!¡± Alanna snapped, and they both froze, fingers on triggers. Because Alanna could feel what other people felt. She¡¯d been doing it all day; she didn¡¯t ever really turn it off. She¡¯d tested the ratroaches, examined Rourke, even used it to keep an eye on her companions and friends. All people were empathic, Alanna just turned it up to eleven. Which meant she could feel what the wounded monster hiding in the boiler room felt. And it wasn¡¯t anger, or hate, or any of the normal expressions of madness the dungeon seeded its life with. No, this one was *afraid*. ¡°Wait.¡± Alanna said again. ¡°Everyone back.¡± She waited for them to move, giving a reassuring nod to Matt¡¯s questioning look. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t think¡­ look, the dungeon wanted this one dead, right? I don¡¯t think we start with shooting.¡± The others moved back, but still kept her covered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sarah put a hand on Rourke¡¯s shoulder, keeping the tense officer from joining in, which Alanna appreciated. He might be a new addition to their ranks, but for now¡­ he was still an outsider. She didn¡¯t want him interfering. Alanna stepped forward, and hesitantly crossed the threshold of the room, feeling the stuffy heat of the place. And also catching the smell of blood. ¡°Hey there.¡± She said quietly, kneeling down to look at the curled life form. It was covered with black. Fur, she thought at first, but no; a closer look showed it was feathers. Uneven, patchy, almost dripping with some kind of slimy substance in places, but feathers. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna hurt you.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Can you talk?¡± The creature uncurled from its ball, slightly, and Alanna stifled a hiss. Oversized and misplaced insectile eyes looked up at her from a broken face; an infected looking gash running down the feathered flesh and into one of the pained eyes. A black beak, cracked on the side and hanging open, drew the eye to the rest of the face. A handful of antenna or feelers sprayed out from the back of the creature¡¯s head like hair blown in the wind; half of them cracked in half. Its body was too thin, compressed in two places to something far too narrow; bones and exoskeleton clashing in the half-crow half-wasp form. Alanna could see its legs, four of them, sticking out from under the boiler, and noted that all of them ended with wicked looking stingers. Or at least, one of them did; the others used to, but those stingers had been shattered or snapped off. The monster opened its mouth, and made a buzzing noise up at her that ended with a wet choking sound. A mix between a warning, and a sob. It didn¡¯t take Alanna¡¯s brain too long to figure out what she was looking at. The dungeon had sent out its ratroaches and unleashed its human attack dog early. Because it was hunting for something that had escaped it. ¡°Alex. Go get me a blanket, and a bottle of water. And armor; if I¡¯m gonna carry this one out of here, I don¡¯t want to get stabbed by accident.¡± Alanna said calmly without turning her head. ¡°Really?¡± Matt asked, incredulous. ¡°Don¡¯t be a dick.¡± Tyrone chastised him. ¡°You work with camracondas.¡± ¡°Yeah, but¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m on it.¡± Alex cut them off. Then, before leaving, ¡°You sure about this?¡± Alanna snorted a laugh, drawing a flinch from the thing hiding under the boiler. ¡°What¡¯s the point of being strong if you don¡¯t help people?¡± She asked them. She¡¯d known the answer all along. _____ ¡°Alright, what¡¯re today¡¯s problems?¡± Reed asked the assembled members of Research. Almost everyone was in today. Eighteen of their twenty two human members, and all four of the new camracondas who had recently taken an interest in providing an alternate perspective. Planner was asleep, still recovering from something terrible, and a couple of their human members were either sleeping in, working Response shifts, or just skipping the meeting. It made for a crowded basement, so Reed had opted to hold this one in the briefing room. ¡°Not everything is us causing problems.¡± Davis folded his arms over his suit jacket, looking profoundly out of place among the crowd of late twenties and early thirties majority of Research¡¯s population. ¡°Sometimes we solve problems.¡± ¡°Alright, *fine*.¡± Reed sighed, already having lost control of the meeting. ¡°Have we solved any problems this week?¡± ¡°Uh, yes, actually.¡± A voice he didn¡¯t hear much chimed in. John was one of those people who had been critically important in just getting stuff done and keeping things organized, but never really had any splashy results like building weird totems or puzzling out what a magic item did. So when he spoke up, Reed was instantly interested. ¡°What¡¯ve you got for us?¡± He asked, genuinely curious. ¡°Well, I think I¡¯ve actually managed to put together enough of the Status Quo documents to give you an answer on them.¡± John said, seeming to wither under the attention of the collected Research division. The guy just didn¡¯t like being in the spotlight, at all. But you couldn¡¯t just say something like that and not have everyone perk up. ¡°Really?¡± Nikhail leaned over, butting between two of their younger ¡®interns¡¯. Both of the high schoolers shoving him back with a generally playful attitude. ¡°What did you learn?¡± ¡°Well, I mean, I¡¯ve been learning this whole time. Or, I mean, cataloguing mostly.¡± John admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s more that I think I have a bigger picture view of them. And an answer that we were looking for.¡± ¡°I admit, I¡¯m curious too. What *did* you find?¡± Reed prompted. ¡°They¡¯re artificial.¡± John said. ¡°As in¡­ fake? Because I think they¡­¡± Someone sounded *angry* about that one. ¡°No, no!¡± John instantly got defensive, and Reed prepared to step in if needed to defuse the situation. But he made a quick explanation, and everyone quieted as he talked. ¡°I think¡­ I mean, the documents all make it *look* like¡­ I don¡¯t think they formed themselves. You know? I think that something else pushed them into forming. Maybe even fabricated a history for them to believe. Because none of the paperwork is actually that *old*. It only goes back maybe ten years. Even the references and stuff. They literally could not have been older than that, and actually kept any files. And I¡¯ve read *all of it*.¡± Some real emotion aside from nervousness in that last sentence. John had put in a lot of hours on this, and he was mad at the very concept of documentation by now. ¡°So, what did it?¡± Reed asked. ¡°Well, they wouldn¡¯t even know.¡± John answered. ¡°And so we can¡¯t learn it from them. Could have been a dungeon. Could have been something like Lloyd or the Old Gun. Could have¡­¡± ¡°Lloyd?¡± A tired woman¡¯s voice asked. Jessica, their resident biologist, knowledge earned the hard way and only supplemented with dungeon magic. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± ¡°Uh, the Last Line Of Defense? James told us not to call it¡­¡± Reed rubbed at his face. ¡°James has a vendetta against proper language use. He is overruled, call it the Last Line if you have to. Also, that¡¯s a terrifying theory. So, as far as you can tell, they were made to¡­ kill dungeons?¡± ¡°Kill, monitor, exploit, they did a little of everything. I think mostly, they were made to keep the northwest US as a low-chaos environment.¡± John shrugged. ¡°Again, it¡¯s hard to tell, and¡­ uh¡­ the ¡®why¡¯ is basically impossible with no one left to ask. Even having cracked most of their code phrases, a lot of their paperwork is either redacted, or just doesn¡¯t exist before a decade ago. But yeah, that¡¯s what I have to give you. They were made by someone else.¡± ¡°Someone who might do it again.¡± Reed muttered. ¡°Okay. Talk to me after this. We¡¯ll take this to the council meeting tomorrow. Anything else? You said you got most of their codes?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± John nodded shortly. ¡°Already referred the relevant stuff to Recovery. There were some addresses.¡± He said it simply, neutrally. Didn¡¯t want to get anyone¡¯s hopes up. ¡°Maybe they can find some of the missing people.¡± Reed winced. It had been so long since their founder¡¯s families were kidnapped and mindwiped. Or maybe just killed. They¡¯d kept plugging away at decoding Status Quo¡¯s files, but it was hard for anyone to keep hope going after too long, especially as they learned more and more about the cruel and often lethal practices of the enemy organization. ¡°Okay.¡± Reed sighed. ¡°What else?¡± ¡°Response wants us to try to find something that can work on addictions.¡± Nikhail said. ¡°Like, removing them. Obviously. Maybe not obviously.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Just something to keep an eye out for.¡± One of the interns, a skinny kid with a shaggy haircut, looked around like he had something to say but wasn¡¯t sure about it. Reed refrained from rolling his eyes at how damn nervous all his people were, and called on him like he was a teacher at the head of a class. ¡°Uh¡­ is that a good idea?¡± ¡°Which part?¡± Nik asked. ¡°Because being able to remove addiction would be valuable, just in general.¡± ¡°No, I mean, taking orders from Response. Aren¡¯t they kind of¡­ I mean, they¡¯re like the authority around here, right? Do we actually want to answer to them like that?¡± Reed blinked, before making a realization. ¡°Oh!¡± He said, snapping his fingers. ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. Response isn¡¯t¡­ they¡¯re not ¡®in charge¡¯ or anything. And they aren¡¯t giving us an order, they¡¯re asking for help. We¡¯re actually all part of the same group, you know? Now, when they do stuff like this, we *should* think critically before just shipping them a copied stockpile of magical guns or something. But generally, they¡¯re less authority and more social workers. This is fine.¡± He sighed. ¡°Okay, what next?¡± Mars, one of their new engineering team, jumped in. ¡°I¡¯ve got a *sort of* working hardware firewall for a skulljack.¡± He said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t stop someone getting in if they ¡®follow you back¡¯, if that makes sense. But it can filter out a lot of hostile actions. The code for it is half-emerald, half-me, and it¡¯s honestly a mess, but it *is* just a prototype. Uh¡­ I have a question, though?¡± Those were impressive results already. Reed inclined his head at the other guy. ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s up?¡± He asked. ¡°Well, if someone¡¯s in a situation where someone could plug into them¡­ what stops them from just removing the firewall? Like, we¡¯re not gonna weld them onto people, are we?¡± Reed blinked. He saw a number of other people having a similar reaction. From the back of the hall, Chevoy, who had been half napping, pitched forward with her head in her hands. ¡°Oh god dammit!¡± She yelled. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Reed couldn¡¯t think of a good answer to that. ¡°Okay! Good progress! We¡¯ll burn that bridge when we get to it! And actually, we do need to figure that out. Holy shit, we¡¯re all idiots. Okay. Okay! I¡¯ll make a note, and start talking to some people. If anyone has ideas, bring them to Mars afterward!¡± Reed resisted the urge to rub his head. ¡°Alright, what¡¯s next, that¡¯s not gonna make me feel stupid?¡± ¡°We got a small scale targetable orange totem working. Like, under a foot this time.¡± Arlo looked super smug about the development. ¡°*Almost* down to the size of the copier. I figure we can get it within a week. And then, we¡¯re gonna absolutely *ruin* scarcity.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°But also! Don¡¯t-¡° Davis, Nik, Arlo, Pages-Of-Books, and John all finished his sentence at the same time. ¡°Don¡¯t go too fast.¡± They chorused. ¡°Yes, *dad*.¡± Arlo added on, causing Reed to huff out an exasperated, embarrassed breath. ¡°Oh, speaking of the copier, Anesh left a note for me.¡± Davis said. ¡°They tried copying orbs inside a wallet of holding. Didn¡¯t work. Same thing with potions. The running theory is that it can only copy one ¡®layer¡¯ of magic, but he said he¡¯d get back to us.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Not to ruin your totem thing.¡± He added to Arlo. ¡°Oh, you¡­¡± Arlo made an expression halfway between a scowl and the face someone made when they ate an entire lemon. ¡°It should be fine. Expanding the space, I don¡¯t think will be a ¡®layer¡¯ the same way a wallet of holding is.¡± Reed cut off the argument. ¡°If that¡¯s even what the problem is. I¡¯ll go in this week and test with him.¡± Someone from the back chimed in, voice clear and vibrant, like a singer. ¡°Has anyone ever tried brewing the copier coffee?¡± Pablo asked. ¡°We drink a *lot* of weird coffee around here. We should drink some of that.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already done the math. A cup of copier coffee is worth about two hundred thousand dollars, given what we estimate the market rate for cancer orbs would be. You wanna drink two hund-¡° ¡°I¡¯ll manage with the coffee that makes me smarter, nevermind!¡± Pablo cheerfully sank back into his chair. Reed looked around. A half dozen quiet chats had started. No one had anything else big to say. One day, he should probably create a format for these meetings, but for now¡­ ¡°Alright, that¡¯s all for today. Everyone have a good week. Let me know if you need anything, or have problems. Remember; safe results are more important than blame, every time!¡± He waited for them all to nod, before tucking his phone away and turning to head for the door. ¡°Now I¡¯ve gotta go run tests on degradation rates of organic programming. I¡¯ll be downstairs if you need me. Oh! Mars, can you feed the shells? You¡¯ve got buggy code, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m so mad that you¡¯re not wrong¡± _____ Texture-Of-Barkdust woke up feeling miserable. The camraconda uncoiled from the pile of blankets they shared with four others. Typically, they slept whenever they wanted, and none of them were really shy about casual physical contact, so there was usually someone to curl up with in the sleeping space. Right now, though, only Watcher-Of-Motion was here, pressed up against her side, occasionally twitching in his dream. Texture-Of-Barkdust appreciated this one. He, like all of her chosen nestmates, liked the quiet, liked their own private thoughts. But his quiet commitment to the Order matched her own, and she liked that. She tired not to hit him with her tail as she left. And was mostly successful. Camraconda accommodations took up about half of the fourth basement of the Order. The other half were human accommodations, but the truth was, there was an amount of overlap. Camracondas were not small, and while their shared nests were often normal rooms turned into two-story ¡®apartments¡¯ with a ramp leading up to a constructed second floor, they could still be at home living with standard Terran furniture. Mostly. Chairs were hard. But the Order kept buying beanbags, which Texture-Of-Barkdust also appreciated. The point was, this basement was for people to live in. And whether that meant living in a space built for you, or sharing a nest or bed that you just felt comfortable in even if it wasn¡¯t *intended* that way, it was still home to a lot of them. Texture-Of-Barkdust didn¡¯t talk to people about it often, but she did feel a warmth at having a home. Today, that warmth was mostly stuffed down by some kind of strange unpleasant tension in her chest. Her eye felt like it was grinding as she irised it, her tongue was heavy in her mouth. It was unpleasant. But none of that changed that she had work to do, so the camraconda pressed forward. One of the big benefits of living in the Lair was that there was a kitchen. Texture-Of-Barkdust opted to take the elevator, as the remodel of the stairs into a ramp was not yet complete, and arrived on the ground floor still trying to get her headache to go away. The kitchen, surely, would help. She slithered her way through the hallway, passing a handful of other early risers who were also up at six AM. She had learned, annoyingly, that both humans and camracondas did not like waking on a schedule. This frustrated her immensely. Because now, they were *free*. Finally, after a crucible that had killed so many of her friends, their community was free. Liberated, not just into the realm of Officium Mundi, but out onto a place called Earth, which stretched for hundreds of millions of square miles. Enormous beyond belief, full of wonders and sensations to explore. Who could possibly accept wasting their time frivolously, in a place like this? Well, the answer was, many of her fellow camracondas. And many more of the humans that had saved them. It would be inaccurate to say that camracondas had a culture. But *her* people had a culture. Or at least, one they had started to build in their years of confinement. They had small rituals, big ideas, and beautiful art. And most of it, had simply not survived contact with the world. Texture-Of-Barkdust would never, ever, blame anyone in the Order for this. But it was a truth that her people had been¡­ reset, almost. Set back to square one, to figure out who they were all over again. The context of reality was simply too much for what they¡¯d derived on their own to stand up to. And yet, how could one be angry, when the culture that had done this to you also served you hash browns? Texture-Of-Barkdust settled herself onto a bench, and nodded to the kitchen staff who was around even at this early hour. Marjorie, the oldest human woman Texture-Of-Barkdust had ever known, gave a winning grin to the green and blue serpent. ¡°Hello dearie!¡± She said. ¡°Your usual?¡± And it was at that moment that Texture-Of-Barkdust realized she had forgotten her voice. She¡¯d tried to send the signal through the gifted skulljack, but got no purchase. She had left the connector and the powerful small speakers back in her nest. Twisting to make sure she wasn¡¯t going mad, the camraconda confirmed she was voiceless. A creeping dread started to seep into her as she twitched nervously. She couldn¡¯t talk. She was wasting time. In an almost overwhelming panic, Texture-Of-Barkdust whipped her head back up to look at Marjorie with a fearful look, giving the most expressive hiss she could manage from her inadequate organic voice. The older woman either didn¡¯t notice, or ignored her fear entirely. ¡°Still waking up, huh? Well! Your usual?¡± She asked. Texture-Of-Barkdust froze, as if one of her people had Looked at her. Her usual. Of course. Because everyone here¡­ remembered. Knew each other. Cared. Yes. Her usual, please. She gave a bobbing nod. ¡°Alright dearie! It¡¯ll be a few minutes, Jeanne¡®s helping me unload the food truck right now.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust settled in to wait for her food, patience being one of those things that was required to not waste further time. You could, she had rapidly decided, take time to think, or even do nothing, but still have it be the most efficient use of time if you were waiting. Waiting was interesting. She¡¯d waited for years, and not realized it was what she was doing. At six fifteen AM, exactly when scheduled, Karen sat down across from her and opened a pair of manilla folders on the table, sliding one over to Texture-Of-Barkdust. ¡°Good morning.¡± Karen said, already sipping at a cup of coffee. ¡°I have our reports from yesterday here. I¡¯d like to get your opinion on how your people are reacting to having Authorities, but past that, today is business as usual.¡± Karen paused as the older woman came over. ¡°Good morning, Marjorie. You¡¯re here early today. My usual, please.¡± ¡°Of course, dearie.¡± Marjorie gave a smile as she passed by. ¡°Already cooking. You two are easy!¡± ¡°Mm.¡± Karen made a neutral noise, while Texture-Of-Barkdust gave a low hum. The older woman laughed at the scene while she hustled back to the kitchen to check on the potatoes. ¡°I am beginning to suspect that¡­ are you alright?¡± Karen¡¯s face suddenly did that human thing where it changed expressions rapidly; lips pursing, eyebrows raising. ¡°You don¡¯t look good.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust wanted to say that she felt fine. But that would have been a transparent lie, and also, she had no voice. So she gave an awkward hiss, trying to explain and mostly just drawing a more concerned look as the hiss ended in a wet bark of a cough. Oh no. Karen gave her another worried look, before standing and walking over to the kitchen doors, and calling out to the two women working inside. ¡°Please keep our breakfast warm; I need to take her to see Deb.¡± And then, the stern faced woman came back to the table and folded her arms at the camraconda. ¡°Alright. Are you able to stand?¡± She asked. Texture-Of-Barkdust was mildly offended. Of course she could- She fell off the bench. Painfully. Her vision blinked momentarially as she hit the ground and a spike of pain went through her head. ¡°Oh dear.¡± Karen¡¯s voice was still firm, but there was an undercurrent of compassion and concern to it that Texture-Of-Barkdust had never heard before. That was a very human thing, she realized, that had infected her people¡¯s culture. But she didn¡¯t mind. She liked it. She tried to hiss at her friend that she liked it, but couldn¡¯t get her lungs to work right. Then, Texture-Of-Barkdust found herself floating. Well, not really floating. Karen had just picked her up, cradling her in both arms. She wondered how strong Karen was; Texture-Of-Barkdust was aware that she weighed about two hundred pounds. Wasn¡¯t that a lot for a human to carry at a jog? Maybe not. She was having trouble thinking. Her thoughts blurred. The next thing she knew, she was laying on one of the comfortable beds in the medical section, listening as a pair of people teleported in. Voices reached her, as if from underwater. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened. She just collapsed.¡± Karen was saying. Deb¡¯s voice answered. ¡°Fuck.¡± The young lady said. Texture-Of-Barkdust wanted to frown. She was being very rude. She worried that Deb would set a bad example for Frequency-Of-Sunlight. The two of them were very publically together. Another human thing. But Frequency-Of-Sunlight was so happy all the time now, and it probably wasn¡¯t just from the sex. Maybe¡­ maybe it wasn''t just human. Maybe it was something new. Something both of theirs. Texture-Of-Barkdust raised her head as a human she didn¡¯t recognize helped her turn so they could get a speaker cable plugged into her skulljack. ¡°Interspecies romance is foundational to a society that can sustain all of us.¡± Were the first words she spoke as the speakers clicked on, the thought slipping out without her intending. ¡°Oh good. She¡¯s delirious.¡± Karen said flatly. ¡°How do you-¡° The other human started to ask. ¡°Please trust me when I say that is not something she would normally say.¡± Karen said. ¡°Ms. Marris, is this something you¡¯re familiar with?¡± ¡°Interspecies romance?¡± The veterinary doctor asked, perking up before she realized what Karen actually meant. ¡°Or¡­ uh¡­ a camraconda being sick?¡± Deb wheeled a cart of tools into the room, pulling a contactless thermometer off and running it over Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s surface. ¡°We¡¯ve never seen one of them get sick before.¡± She said. ¡°A hundred and twenty. *Way* above camraconda baseline. She¡¯s got a fever.¡± ¡°How hot are they normally?¡± Dr. Marris asked. ¡°One eight.¡± Deb answered, pulling a stethoscope out and searching for the flattest spot on Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s surface to listen to her breathing. ¡°Sunny¡¯s basically a heating pad.¡± She pressed the stethoscope down, going quiet as she listened. ¡°I am dying.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said, in a moment of neutral lucidity. ¡°Oh. No.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not dying.¡± Deb said automatically. Amy moved her hands across the camraconda. ¡°No obvious signs of infected injuries, lesions, or any growths. I¡­ oh! What are you feeling? I¡¯m not used to being able to ask what patients are feeling.¡± ¡°Is she qualified to be here?¡± Karen¡¯s words were mean, but Texture-Of-Barkdust knew it came from a place of concern. ¡°None of us are.¡± Deb snapped back. ¡°Barkdust, can you tell us what you¡¯re feeling?¡± The camraconda thought for a minute. ¡°Annoyed.¡± She decided, trying to nod, and feeling her vision swim. ¡°Aaaaahhhhh.¡± The word came out strained from the speaker. ¡°My head throbs. I roil inside. Too hot. I am too hot.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust rotated to meet their eyes. ¡°Know this. I know this. This is heat rot. It kills us. I am going to die.¡± She stated, as matter of factly as she could. But even through the digital medium of her speech, the words came out scared. Deb stepped back. ¡°Oh.¡± She said simply. ¡°You have the flu!¡± She announced. ¡°I mean, unless this is something weird. Those are just¡­ flu symptoms.¡± She looked at the others and motioned them out of the room. The three humans retreating to the observation area to leave her to die in peace. Alone. ¡°What if it is something arcane?¡± Karen¡¯s voice came through to her from far away. ¡°We need to help with that.¡± ¡°She¡¯s already had the purple that reduces infection time.¡± Deb said. ¡°If she¡¯s seen this before, it was in that tower. So of *course* she thinks it kills people. But we can manage symptoms, and she should be fine. I¡¯ll prep an IV just in case, but regulating her temperature and keeping her hydrated to recover *should* be enough.¡± ¡°What about medication? Some kind of antibacterial, or Tylenol or something?¡± Karen asked. ¡°Oh, we shouldn¡¯t give her acetaminophen.¡± Amy¡¯s voice was a rapid answer. ¡°We don¡¯t know what she *is*. Not really. It might just kill her. It does to cats. That would be awful. Uh¡­ did she say interspecies romance a minute ago?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Deb said flatly. ¡°Okay. Karen, go find me a few other camracondas I can interview about this, but *don¡¯t bring them in here* in case it¡¯s contagious. Amy, run up to the kitchen and get a bag of ice please. Her temperature is high, but shouldn¡¯t be lethal if we can get it down quickly. And in the meantime, I¡¯ll keep an eye on her.¡± ¡°Okay, but I¡¯m just curious¡­¡± ¡°Camracondas are people. They can date.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust could practically hear Deb rolling her eyes. ¡°And before you start asking me more uncomfortable questions, yes, they have primary sexual characteristics, and *yes*, they *are* exceptional lovers. Or at least, mine is. Now *get me some ice*.¡± ¡°Ah! Yes!¡± Amy squeaked, and footsteps receded into the Lair. A minute later, Deb was back at her side, and Texture-Of-Barkdust looked up at her with a slitted eye, trying to not look at the painfully bright light. ¡°I am glad you are with my sister.¡± She said. ¡°Do not let her be sad when I die.¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯re probably not gonna die.¡± Deb said. ¡°Unless this is something really weird, it sounds like you¡¯re describing a disease we know how to deal with. But, if you can, tell me more about it, please? And we¡¯ll do our best to keep you alive.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust hissed. Yes, being alive would be preferable. She had a lot of work to do today. She had to check on the new members of her people, and had a pair of counseling appointments with two members of Response, and she was going to be trying to learn piano with the new mechanical arms, and¡­ yes. Yes, it would be very inconvenient if she died. Focused on getting as much work done as she could, Texture-Of-Barkdust started telling Deb everything she knew. She was sure that she did a good job. She knew quite a lot, and was very comprehensive. Chapter 177 ¡°Because when you¡¯re a millennial, you promise to do extravagant yet trivial things, to bring a sense of narrative purpose to your life.¡± - Harry Brewis, XOXO Festival 2019 - _____ When Deb looked back at the trajectory of her life, she got this weird sense of perspective. Because in retrospect, she could see clearly where every decision had spiraled out of control into some kind of twisting mess of consequences and outcomes. But at the time, none of those decisions even felt like she was doing anything at all. Getting a summer job to desperately try to cover the costs of textbooks for her next year of med school, for example, had led to¡­ well, everything. Being kidnapped, held prisoner by an inhuman monster, used as a living router. And then, being rescued. Meeting James, and the others. Learning her family had forgotten her, and her school records didn¡¯t exist. Going back into the dungeon. Getting *good* at going back into the dungeon. Helping people, healing people, learning, growing. Meeting her partner. Somehow being the most qualified medical practitioner in the building. Ending up in charge of things in this particular bit of hospital in this particular weird basement. She *could* have just said ¡®no¡¯ when the interviewer asked her if she wanted the job. Might have saved her a lot of scars. Deb idly rubbed at one of the scars on her left arm as she thought; a long white line courtesy of a knife strike from one of the Status Quo agents. What would she say, if offered the chance to change that one answer? The idle question made her give a sardonic smile to the paperwork she was doing. It wasn¡¯t much of a question, really. For all the chaos and confusion and pain and hardship¡­ Well, she found herself at home here. A sibilant utterance drifted out of one of the rooms down here in their temporary infirmary. Deb looked up as the hiss continued, and then slid out from behind her desk with a practiced move. She moved with the kind of quick yet unhurried efficiency that she¡¯d learned to master in her time as an RN, a handful of steps letting her reach the door to Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s room rapidly. Deb¡¯s glance took in a lot of information about the camraconda lying spread out on the bed in quick order. For one thing, she¡¯d unplugged her speaker rig somehow. The IV was still properly set, but the bag was emptier than it should have been, which she noted. Maybe camraconda blood moved faster? That sounded stupid, but exactly like the kind of thing the Office would cook up. The feverish serpent had also rolled such that her upper half was draped off the side of the bed, long tongue lolling toward the floor. In theory, Deb knew the floors were clean. In practice, she did *not* want anyone licking them. She suppressed any kind of sigh she might have wanted to make, and moved to get Texture-Of-Barkdust back up onto the bed. ¡°Come on.¡± She murmured softly through her mask to the sick camraconda as she knelt to slide her arms under Texture¡¯s upper body. ¡°Let¡¯s get you comfortable.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust hissed at her, a sputtering noise that Deb thought sounded a little too dry. For a brief second, as the camraconda rolled in her grip, Deb felt her body completely freeze, all motion ripped away in a split second before her limbs began responding again with a small jerk. It was a feeling she was familiar with, but she didn¡¯t chastise Texture. The girl was sick enough, she didn¡¯t need any extra problems. Deb calmly replaced the IV bag, recorded the time and Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s temperature and breathing rate - camracondas didn¡¯t have a heartbeat, which made the fact that they had blood at all incredibly suspicious - and made sure that the cold pack was placed where Texture could roll onto it if she needed to. The camraconda was getting better. Far faster than a human with the flu would, actually, which made Deb suspect this was either a different illness, even though the test kit had returned a positive for flu antigens, or that camraconda biology interacted with Earth pathogens differently. Or both. Almost certainly both. Though it was obvious how this particular affliction could kill an untreated camraconda; her temperature had spiked early, and in an environment like the Office where camracondas didn¡¯t really drink, and certainly didn¡¯t have access to ice, a fever like that would have been lethal to pretty much anything. Still, even if this version of the flu was something that couldn¡¯t even jump to humans, she still went through the process of disposing of her mask and gloves, and scrubbing her hands down thoroughly. No sense taking risks. *Now* Deb sighed, out of earshot of her patient. A day and a half of someone feverish and belligerent was enough to strain the nerves, especially when they were someone you knew. Deb had practical experience distancing herself from her patients, but not when they were people who personally mattered to her. Still, Texture-Of-Barkdust was recovering. That was good. It looked like she was going to pull through, and that was good enough. The same, Deb thought with a frown as she checked through the window of the other room, couldn¡¯t be said of her other patient. Alanna had come by a couple times to check on the creature, but Deb had turned her away after Texture was quarantined here as a precaution. The quarantine rooms they used as hospital beds now serving a double purpose, as the strange Sewer creation Alanna had brought back was kept isolated. It was, Deb thought with a shake of her head, a lot like the ratroaches. A painful mix of what looked like a crow and a wasp; feathers that seemed more stabbed into flesh than growing out of it, bright red infected lines where skin and exoskeleton met, shattered stingers and broken bones. A body that wasn¡¯t designed to do more than cause damage to an enemy and then die. The creature was sedated while Deb had its ¡®blood¡¯ tested. Wounds bandaged as well as they could manage, comfort chased after. They weren¡¯t doing well, honestly, and Deb wasn¡¯t sure if this one would recover. Arrush and Keeka were broken creatures, but they were built to hurt, and keep hurting. This thing seemed built to kill, and to *die*. Not that she was just going to let that happen. She just didn¡¯t know enough. Not really. Deb settled back in at her desk and pulled over to her the small plastic case that Anesh had brought down for her earlier this morning. Popping it open, she looked at the row of yellow orbs inside. Four of them, all things she¡¯d been looking for. She¡¯d been busy, and hadn¡¯t gone into the Office this week to wrench its secrets out of its beige claws, but someone else had come through for her. [+.3 Skill Ranks : Biology - Mammals] [+.8 Skill Ranks : Anatomy - Reptiles - Snakes] [+1 Skill Rank : Medical - Surgery - Brain] [+1 Skill Ranks : Therapy - Physical - Massage] The former nurse sucked in a slow breath as she took in the new information running through her. A few hours on Wikipedia and six years worth of high intensity college courses all at once flooding her mind. Deb closed her eyes and sat back, rapidly rotating through things she *knew*, mixing them with things she¡¯d learned the hard way, slowly folding the cheat of the skill orbs into her constantly expanding foundation of skills relevant to being a healer of the living. Annoyingly, she rediscovered, snakes had little in common with camracondas. She¡¯d done quite a lot of reading a few months ago, and had come to the same conclusion, but the shoring up of the yellow orb¡¯s skill rank confirmed it. Still, the new points were never something she would turn down. In fact, far from wanting to turn them down, Deb found she wanted more. The thought was one she¡¯d been struggling with for a while now. And was part of why she¡¯d found herself ¡®busy¡¯ on the last few Officium Mundi delves. For all that James said it was perfectly safe, and that the orbs weren¡¯t something that they¡¯d found any problems with, Deb wasn¡¯t completely convinced. There was something, always in the back of her head, that warned her about this. Warned her to not get too deep. Because while she wasn¡¯t experiencing any symptoms, she was still concerned that addiction might be a real thing. Compulsion, at least. Where was the line, exactly, between needing to know more to be good at your job, and just wanting to feel the rush of an encyclopedia¡¯s worth of knowledge flooding you, sticking with you, becoming part of you without *any* effort? Deb didn¡¯t know. Hell, maybe she should have just left the small case shut and left the orbs alone. Deb¡¯s train of thought was interrupted by her phone buzzing. Shaking off the grim worry she was carrying, she slid her finger across the smartphone screen, and answered with an easy ¡°Hello?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve gotta stop asking me for weird favors, girl.¡± A beleaguered woman¡¯s voice came back. ¡°Hey Soph.¡± Deb tried to keep the grin out of her voice. It wasn¡¯t that hard; she was pretty tired herself. ¡°It¡¯s not a favor if I¡¯m paying you.¡± ¡°You should start paying me then!¡± Sophia replied. ¡°I had this whole gossip thing going on, about how my boyfriend had an interview at a place that I *guess has teleporters*, and you know what he tells me when he gets home?¡± ¡°I do, yes.¡± Deb said, scratching a note on the back of a torn envelope that at least one of their interviewees was bad at keeping secrets. ¡°Yeah, I bet you do!¡± The other woman¡¯s voice sounded torn between anger and laughter. ¡°You were way less weird when you were an RN, you know?¡± ¡°Soph¡­¡± Deb¡¯s voice was strained as she massaged her forehead. ¡°Are you gonna waste your whole break on this?¡± She took a shot in the dark on speeding up the conversation. There was a half second of pause before one of the last people from her old life who remembered her, even tangentially, replied. ¡°No¡­¡± She sounded almost disappointed. ¡°Alright, fine. I asked around, and I think I can get you an in with the tech. The whole hospital is crammed, but it¡¯s not like anyone needs more X-rays than normal.¡± There was another, almost imperceptible pause. ¡°Why do you need secret X-rays, anyway?¡± Soph asked her old coworker. ¡°You got an alien you¡¯re taking care of or something?¡± ¡°Secret is less important than secure.¡± Deb answered without thinking. ¡°And they aren¡¯t an alien, they¡¯re from Earth. Technically.¡± ¡°Girl. Please. You cannot just fuckin say that.¡± ¡°Where and when am I meeting the tech?¡± Deb asked with a sigh, listening as Soph gave her a name and the time the guy had lunch every day. ¡°Thanks Soph. I owe you one.¡± She said after getting the information. She could almost hear the other woman shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it. But also¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Can I see the alien?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you later Soph.¡± Deb said, ignoring the ¡®no, wait!¡¯ from the nurse on the other end of the line as she hung up. ¡°Okay.¡± She muttered to herself, pulling up the Order¡¯s chat server and firing a message off in the ¡®requests for help¡¯ channel. Needed later today; two people to help transport via telepad a sedated patient to hospital X-ray. Must be comfortable wearing armor. Message for details. Deb rapidly sent the message as the chime on the quarantine area¡¯s door went off, leaving out details to drag herself up onto sore feet and go check who or what was demanding more of her attention. The who, in this case, was Ann, supported by another member of Response, still in her armor and bleeding from a messy looking gash on her forehead. The what was¡­ well, the bleeding, Deb assumed. She admitted them rapidly, making sure the door to Texture¡¯s room was closed, and the two humans had masks on for safety. ¡°What happened?¡± She asked rapidly, pulling up a chair for Ann to settle into. ¡°I fell down some stairs.¡± Ann said woozily. ¡°She fell down some stairs after someone shot her.¡± Her Response teammate said. ¡°Bullet deflected, but she hit her head on the way down.¡± Deb snapped on a pair of disposable gloves, and started pulling back Ann¡¯s hair out of the gash, wiping away blood with a wet towel to see how bad it was. It was¡­ well, it could be worse. But head wounds always bled worse than anything else. The cut was over her right eye, and the knight kept flinching as a thin trickle of blood would drip down into her vision. Deb pressed the towel down, and instructed Ann to hold it in place. ¡°This is going to need stitches.¡± She said, popping open one of the cabinets to gather what she needed. ¡°Why didn¡¯t Nik close this up?¡± Deb asked, realizing that this was the first Response injury she¡¯d had in a while. ¡°He¡¯s out with another team.¡± The new guy told her. ¡°No one else has a medico yet.¡± Deb nodded, looking around for a place to set down the suture, tape, and other tools she¡¯d grabbed. Eventually, she just cleared off part of her desk and got help dragging Ann¡¯s chair over to nearby. She knew, in her heart, that she¡¯d have to sanitize this all extensively later, but right now she was focused on the patient and the injury. She moved quickly, hands that had only mild practical experience doing this being guided by a dozen overlapping skill ranks. Deb let the compassion resonance she had guide her work, easily picking out when Ann¡¯s winces and hisses of pain were needed to make the proper repair to her body, and when to use them as guides on when to ease off. It took her three minutes. It almost took her longer to get the bandage adhesive to smooth out properly. After directing the other Response aspirant to get Ann to somewhere she could sit or lay down, and to make sure she drank something, Deb waited for the door to close again, and then sagged. She still had to clean all this up. She needed more staff here. Hell, she needed to *be* staff, she didn¡¯t want to be in charge. Or maybe she could get Reed to make her hospital space bigger. They were doing cool stuff with the orange totems, right? Maybe another twenty rooms down here. Some real equipment. Copy a vitals monitor a dozen times, get an actual pharmacy¡­ Deb was getting ahead of herself. She had blood to clean up, and a tech to meet about giving a giant wasp an X-ray. The plus side was, being a nurse and being in med school had both prepared her for not sleeping much. So that was good, at least. _____ Morgan¡¯s life had gotten weird. Weird in a good way, he supposed. He didn¡¯t have to live with his dad, anymore. He had reliable food, no one hit him, and he¡¯d actually been able to sleep without nightmares for one night last week, which was a big improvement. His best friend was an artificial magical life form, who had technically killed his mom, which was¡­ something. He didn¡¯t know *what*, but it fucking for sure was *something*. His other best friend, aside from Color-Of-Dawn, was Liz, who was mostly only his friend because they¡¯d survived a few of the same things, but that was kind of enough. He lived in the basement of a converted office building. One of the basements. Morgan thought the basement thing was awesome, but while the literal magic of it seemed permanent, the emotional magic wore off the third time he had to take the stairs back up because he¡¯d gone down to the wrong one. On a given day, Morgan didn¡¯t really know what weird thing he was going to see. What new strange creature - or person - was going to walk in the door. What small magic might be going on in the common area. Or what everyone in the dining room would be talking about. It was pretty great. The problem was¡­ he didn¡¯t really know what he was doing. It was, unbeknownst to Morgan, a problem that afflicted basically everyone his age at some point. And it wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t have stuff to do; he helped out around the Lair sometimes, he read a lot, that kind of thing. But he wasn¡¯t actually one of the Order¡¯s aspirants, and he didn¡¯t have a *job* here. He didn¡¯t go on ¡®delves¡¯, he just¡­ existed. Existed and played a lot of video games. Part of him had this constant dread that he wasn¡¯t building marketable job skills, like his mom had always wanted him to pursue. Or that, by essentially abandoning high school altogether, he was going to end up illiterate and broke for his whole life. But Morgan didn¡¯t know how to *fix* that, and asking people for help was terrifying, so he hid in his room a lot and tried to distract himself. Which only worked until Liz found him and dragged him to lunch. Color-Of-Dawn would just hide *with* him. The camraconda had gotten one of the original sets of mechanical manipulators that their people used, as the engineers built more streamlined and stronger versions; but the original was still good enough for soft control, like, say, for playing Street Fighter. Morgan was good at Street Fighter. Color-Of-Dawn was *also*, it turned out, good at Street Fighter. They hung out a lot. Liz, though, was good at convincing the both of them to try new things. And that meant they couldn¡¯t hide forever. It was one of the *normal* strange things. Liz was actually really shy, always quiet, and would often imply more than she¡¯d ever say out loud. But *she* was the one that kept nudging them to help the landscaping efforts, or take a guitar class, or something else that had popped up on the community board this week. Today, Liz had dragged him up to the dining area, to a social gathering, and Morgan was *absolutely* sure that she had gone crazy. Because the people they were hanging out with were high schoolers. Other interns. Well, interns. Morgan and Liz both had special circumstances, so they didn¡¯t really count as part of that particular program the Order was trying. Color-Of-Dawn had basically the same special circumstances, but way more extreme. And now, Morgan was realizing that despite the similarities in lifestyle upheaval events and being the same age, he had *nothing* in common with these kids. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s kind of hard.¡± Jess was saying. She was a junior, and like every other one of the half dozen interns at the table, she was a huge overachiever. Her face, kind of round and showing off her Mexican heritage, was twisted into a grimace as she talked about her history class. ¡°I mean, AP classes are all hard, right?¡± She asked the table, and got a couple sympathetic answers from the other students. ¡°We¡¯re covering the Great Depression right now, and it¡¯s, like, two hours of homework a night.¡± Morgan felt himself shrink into his seat, gnawing on some of the sliced fruit that Marjorie had deposited into the middle of their table when they¡¯d arrived, trying to put his anxiety into chewing. The conversation kept wrapping back around to school, and every one of the other people here seemed smarter than he was. Not for the first time, he felt like maybe following Liz this time had been a mistake. Color-Of-Dawn came to his rescue, partially. ¡°Is Great Depression worse than normal depression?¡± The camraconda asked, pivoting to look at Morgan. Because he¡¯d been asked directly, it was hard to fade away and just let one of the actual students answer. ¡°Uh¡­ no, it¡¯s a historic event. Or, a few years, I guess? I don¡¯t know how long. About ninety years ago, there was a thing where a bunch of mistakes made money and food run out all at once.¡± Morgan knew, *knew*, that his description wasn¡¯t even close to the whole answer, but he hoped no one would think he was dumb for it. ¡°It¡¯s not the mental health thing. That¡¯s just regular depression. Er¡­ ¡®depression¡¯. No regular.¡± Instead, he got the somehow worse option. ¡°Oh! Are you in the US History class too?¡± The guy across from him, an *impossibly* tall guy with a long red scar down the side of his face named Bryan asked him. Morgan was pretty sure the guy was on the basketball team. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Morgan floundered. ¡°N-no. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t go to school.¡± He said quietly. ¡°Oh, getting a GED or something?¡± Bryan asked him. Not unfriendly, just curious. Morgan didn¡¯t really relax, though. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He muttered. ¡°I¡¯m just kind of¡­¡± he waved a hand around, trying to express¡­ anything. Surprisingly - to him, at least - no one said anything mean. There was actually just a moment of quiet, and a set of sympathetic or pained expressions. Morgan almost jumped out of his seat when he felt Liz set a hand on his arm. But when no one made fun of him, or looked at him like wasn¡¯t important, it started to click with him. His circumstances weren¡¯t actually that unique. Everyone at this table had lived through something they maybe shouldn¡¯t have. He glanced again at Bryan, realizing that the scar cutting across his face probably came from a ratroach knife strike. How many of them had scars like that, under their clothes? Or had friends they wouldn¡¯t ever get to talk to again? Morgan didn¡¯t exactly relax completely, but he felt some kind of connection that he hadn¡¯t before. He surprised himself by breaking the silence. ¡°Should I try to get a GED?¡± He asked. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what that would take. Like, I¡¯ve been learning math by listening to Mars lecture me when we¡¯re weeding.¡± Another girl spoke up, a rail-thin kid named Maddie who tried to hide how skinny she was under a layer of thick sweatshirt. ¡°Wait, you get to get high with the engineers?¡± She said with an affronted tone. ¡°*I* want to get high with the engineers!¡± Liz¡¯s giggle made Morgan smile in turn. ¡°He means gardening.¡± Liz said. ¡°We help out with the garden and farm stuff. Mars does too, sometimes. He says it¡¯s ¡®meditative¡¯.¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s probably more important than learning math.¡± A guy who clearly hated math said, folding his arms and grumbling. ¡°Yeah, but plants are borrrrring.¡± Jess drawled, reaching for more of the shared plate of fruit on the table. What he wanted to say was ¡®Plants are cool!¡¯ In defense of this small personal hobby that he¡¯d stumbled across but felt a weird connection he couldn¡¯t explain toward. What he said instead was¡­ nothing. Morgan did what he was good at. He kept his head down, and didn¡¯t challenge the other kid. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like she was trying to be a bully or anything. Jess probably didn¡¯t realize how bad it felt to hear that, and¡­ While Morgan was busy stewing in his own teenage angst, though, his friends *did* have something to say. ¡°Hey, plants *are* cool!¡± Liz said, the cocoon of shyness around her shredding away as she catapulted herself to her friend¡¯s defense. ¡°Yes.¡± Color-Of-Dawn agreed with a bob of its head. ¡°Your world¡¯s plants are beautiful. And most of them do not try to kill you. They are cool.¡± Morgan flushed crimson, but felt a swell of confidence in his chest, and spoke up himself. ¡°Uh¡­ Rufus actually has some non-killing plants from your world, too.¡± He told Color-Of-Dawn. ¡°They¡¯re sweet. He lets me help trim them sometimes.¡± ¡°The skitterer grows them here? On purpose?¡± Color-Of-Dawn jolted upright. ¡°If you¡¯re not growing them on purpose, they¡¯re weeds!¡± Evan, one of the other interns who hadn¡¯t spoken up yet chimed in. Morgan rolled his eyes. ¡°And that¡¯s why the rainforest is dying.¡± He snarked. The conversation kept going, eventually looping back to complaining about school, or parents, or whatever. Morgan didn¡¯t have much to add to those parts, but he didn¡¯t feel *excluded*, exactly. Not anymore. He mostly just sat quietly, feeling himself get more familiar with these people. One thing he noticed, that he was *certain* Color-Of-Dawn spotted too, was how often the other kids gave the camraconda looks. They all seemed right on the cusp of asking questions of the non-human at the table, but no one ever crossed over that line. At one point, he leaned over and muttered to his friend, ¡°If you wanna leave, we can. I think Liz¡¯ll let us go.¡± ¡°It is fine.¡± Color-Of-Dawn murmured back, volume of their speakers pitched low. ¡°Just a reminder that I am¡­ different.¡± ¡°I hear ya. Just let me know, okay?¡± Morgan tried to reassure his friend. ¡°Tap me or something.¡± Color-Of-Dawn hummed back, and he leaned back and tried to catch up on the conversation, catching a smile from Liz as he did so. The interns were, for all their shared trauma, still a fairly excited group. A half hour of chatter and friendly complaining, blended with sharing what they¡¯d been involved with in the Order, all flowed together to Morgan. Until someone made it awkward. ¡°I saw one of *them* around here, the other day.¡± Maddie stressed the word, face like a storm. ¡°I dunno what the fuck anyone is thinking.¡± Everyone at the table seemed to get it instantly, except Morgan, who looked over at Liz, who had a similar confused expression. ¡°Them?¡± He asked, puzzled. ¡°One of the rats.¡± Bryan¡¯s voice was¡­ well, not really a growl. But what a kid trying to emulate someone tough thought a growl was. ¡°Are you¡­¡± Liz¡¯s voice was uncertain, and she looked to Morgan, like she was just trying to make sure she still had social backup at the table. ¡°Do you mean Arrush?¡± She asked. ¡°It has a name?¡± Maddie sounded somehow angrier. Morgan frowned, speaking up defensively. ¡°Uh, yeah? He does. People are allowed to have names.¡± He said. Maybe not his best work. ¡°Why are you so mad?¡± ¡°How do we even know it isn¡¯t the one that kil- that hurt me?¡± Bryan demanded. ¡°They¡¯re *monsters*. You can just read the entries for that *place*. They¡¯re just monsters.¡± His hands were claws on his arms, like he was trying to avoid rubbing at the scar on his face. Jess, tone uncertain, added, ¡°I mean¡­ we don¡¯t know that for sure. And the Order is trying to help them, I guess. But it¡¯s still creepy seeing one walking around.¡± *Something* about this whole conversation topic set Morgan on edge. But, unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t yet mastered the art of taking a step back and analyzing things when he was mid-conversation. Instead, he just felt like there was something *wrong*, and couldn¡¯t pin down what. He opened his mouth to say something, not knowing what he should even say, when he got cut off. ¡°Yes.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said. ¡°Things from dungeons are disturbing.¡± The camraconda stated in its mechanical voice, letting the sentence stand on its own as they leaned themself over the table to pluck a slice of apple off the rapidly emptying tray. Jess backpedaled rapidly. ¡°That¡¯s different! The rats *killed* people!¡± ¡°Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s killed someone.¡± It took Morgan a second to realize that the asshole who¡¯d said that was *him*. The camraconda twitched, freezing up like it¡¯d been hit by its own gaze. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, though.¡± Morgan continued, desperately trying to keep his voice from breaking. ¡°Still my friend. And it¡¯s¡­ dumb. It¡¯s just dumb, to be afraid of a whole species, because some of them got used as weapons. You¡¯re not helping anyone.¡± A week ago, Morgan had talked to James about it. His therapist had recommended it, because James had the closest thing to a similar experience. And he had a question for the Order¡¯s leader. How do you not hate someone for something they did? James knew what he was actually asking, though. And after a long and winding tangent about crime statistics, he¡¯d gotten to the point. It wasn¡¯t fair. But fair wasn¡¯t the point. The point was to build a better world. And sometimes, that meant you had to let go. To not blame someone, even though it felt ¡®right¡¯. Because it wasn¡¯t going to help you, or them. Morgan was butchering the words, but right now, he was pretty sure he got the point perfectly. Like he could see it from a broader perspective. ¡°Also he¡¯s not a bad person.¡± Liz folded her arms defiantly. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t be here if he was. Right?¡± ¡°Yeah, well¡­¡± Evan leaned forward, propping himself on his elbows and facing Liz. ¡°If he¡¯s not a bad person, why was he beating up your mom?¡± ¡°What?¡± Liz looked confused. Bryan leaned over and smacked Evan on the back of the head. ¡°A your mom joke? Really, dude?¡± The tension didn¡¯t go away, but it diffused slightly. ¡°What? No!¡± Evan insisted. ¡°Down in the gym area! Ms.Ward¡¯s your mom, right?¡± He asked Liz, and got a nervous nod. ¡°She and the rat were totally brawling!¡± Morgan gave his friend a sympathetic look. ¡°Uh, yeah, he¡¯s right. *Sort of*. Your mom¡¯s one of the knights teaching Arrush how to fight without hurting himself.¡± He said. ¡°He¡¯s not bullying her or anything, though. She could absolutely kick his ass. He¡¯s still hurt, you know? From the Climb.¡± Morgan shuddered. He did not have good memories of the mountain dungeon. ¡°What?!¡± Liz burst out. ¡°Since when?! How do *you* know this?¡± ¡°I just¡­ am around?¡± Morgan shrugged, feeling guilty. ¡°Like, stuff happens while you¡¯re at school, you know.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sure it¡¯s *my* mom?¡± Liz looked uncertain. ¡°Yes? She usually works with Arrush after her kendo class. That¡¯s how I know.¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°Like, I *do* do stuff when you¡¯re not here.¡± Liz looked like her world had been upended. ¡°My mom is learning kendo.¡± ¡°Your mom¡¯s the teacher.¡± Before Liz¡¯s whole concept of her mother could crumble around her, one of the other interns spoke up. ¡°I get it.¡± He said. ¡°But¡­¡± The kid looked down at the table, going quiet. ¡°But they¡¯re just¡­¡± ¡°Scary?¡± Morgan asked, not unkindly. Just as quiet. ¡°Yeah.¡± The word was a whisper. But no one contradicted it. ¡°I think I¡¯m a bad person to say this,¡± Morgan admitted, ¡°because I¡¯m scared of, like, whether I can get a job, you know? But I don¡¯t think it gets less scary if you just let it eat at you. Maybe ask to talk to one of them, sometime. Just¡­ say hi. Let it get to be normal.¡± Jess gave him an disbelieving look. ¡°You have a job.¡± She stated. ¡°No?¡± Morgan was kind of annoyed *that* was the part of his attempted heartfelt statement that she focused on. ¡°You work here.¡± ¡°I *live* here.¡± Morgan told them. ¡°Where else am I gonna go?¡± He said bitterly. Bryan scratched at his face. ¡°I kinda don¡¯t want to.¡± He jumped back in the conversation. ¡°I kinda want to just hate ¡®em.¡± ¡°Then you belong here less than they do.¡± Color-Of-Dawn snapped with sudden anger that made the student flinch back. It looked over at Morgan, camera eye blinking as one manipulator arm tapped him twice on the shoulder. More overt than Morgan had intended, but he still nodded. ¡°Okay, well, we need to go.¡± He interrupted the protests from the others at Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s words. ¡°And I¡¯m bad at this. But, like, nice to meet everyone?¡± Some of them didn¡¯t look super happy, but half of them waved or said friendly goodbyes, despite how the conversation had turned out. Liz spun out of her seat and followed them, waving backward as Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn headed down the hallway to the main room and the elevator. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to leave too.¡± Morgan told her. ¡°You were having fun, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, but we can go back later.¡± She shrugged. ¡°You looked upset.¡± ¡°I was.¡± He said. ¡°Am. Whatever.¡± ¡°I am upset also.¡± Color-Of-Dawn spoke from ahead of them. ¡°They are¡­ children.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a children too.¡± Morgan poked fun at it. ¡°So are we! I can¡¯t even buy weed!¡± ¡°Still! You had a conversation!¡± Liz elbowed him as they waited for the elevator. ¡°Where¡¯d all that stuff come from, anyway?¡± Morgan smiled. ¡°James, I guess. I talked to him about¡­¡± He glanced over at Color-Of-Dawn, and sighed. ¡°About this, sorta. I *get* that they¡¯re angry. But it¡¯s not okay to hate someone who didn¡¯t do anything.¡± As soon as he said it, he realized he¡¯d left part out. ¡°Or even if he did. Hating doesn¡¯t fix anything. It just¡­ I dunno, maybe I¡¯m stupid.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not!¡± Liz¡¯s words had a sudden fire to them. ¡°You¡¯re not.¡± She repeated. ¡°You know, my family left, right?¡± Liz whispered. ¡°My dad, my brothers, they just¡­ forgot everything. Forgot my mom. *Ignored* me, so hard they left me too. Because of something like Planner. But my mom¡¯s *friends* with Planner. You two are friends.¡± She pointed at him and Color-Of-Dawn. ¡°Aren¡¯t you¡­ happier?¡± Morgan froze as the elevator doors opened, watching Color-Of-Dawn as the camraconda slithered through the doors and turned to poke its snout into one of the buttons, waiting patiently for Morgan to follow them. Happier. He was happier, somehow. He was nervous all the time, scared of the future, and still felt useless and stupid. But he was happier. And he knew, suddenly, in his core, that he would never be happy if he¡¯d held onto hating. ¡°You coming?¡± Liz asked from in the elevator, holding the door for him. ¡°Ah! Yeah!¡± Morgan jolted, and followed. He¡¯d have time to think about it all later. For now, there were video games to play with his friends. _____ ¡°Okay, thanks.¡± Myles suppressed a groan as he spoke into his cell phone. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll let them know. Have fun.¡± He hung up, and let the groan out now that JP wasn¡¯t within earshot. Which was kinda funny, because he was currently occupying JP¡¯s ¡®office¡¯ in his boss¡¯ absence. He put ¡®office¡¯ in air quotes because it was actually just one of the larger rooms at the Red Lion, the only hotel in this city, and the building that they were operating reclamation efforts out of these days. Myles said ¡®they¡¯ a lot, but he wasn¡¯t really a part of this effort. He was just filling in for JP for a few days while he and everyone else who knew what they were doing ran off to¡­ fight a cult? Myles wasn¡¯t clear on exactly what the nature of the problem was. But it sounded important enough. Myles was mostly here to help with communication and planning. His time as a spy, it seemed, was on temporary pause. A fact he and Yin both found kind of insulting. The two of them had been basically left on standby here while JP pivoted to the Alchemist case, which, *yeah*, really made it feel like his boss didn¡¯t trust him to not get himself killed. So instead of letting him chase after a bunch of potion-chugging body snatchers, Myles was dropped into a crumbling city full of angry necromantic hunks of clawed asphalt. God, he was so angry at JP right now. ¡°What¡¯d he say?¡± Yin asked, looking up from where she was crossing off buildings on the wall map. She¡¯d stolen the more interesting part of the job that was split between the two rogues, and was basically in charge of the exploration of the city. ¡°The depressions haven¡¯t moved much or said anything since yesterday. So he and Dave are just¡­ doing a stakeout, I guess?¡± Myles glared at the phone in his hand, as if he could somehow transfer his ire to JP through the cut connection. ¡°So¡­ we¡¯re on our own here, I guess? Again?¡± ¡°Could be worse.¡± Yin told him, scratching a red X through a house that had been demolished by the asphalt assault during the Mechanic¡¯s last attempt at apotheosis. ¡°I mean, we¡¯re not *really* on our own. We can always ask for help. It¡¯s not like there¡¯s any emergencies going on.¡± Myles winced at the invitation to bad luck. ¡°You literally do not know that.¡± ¡°Oh, come on!¡± Yin gave him a grin with some barely contained rude glee in it. ¡°What could possibly go wr-¡° ¡°Please.¡± Myles begged her. ¡°You *know* what we do. You *know* that could actually do something.¡± She gave an overdramatic artificial sigh. ¡°Fine. But look, it could be worse. At least the hotel doesn¡¯t smell anymore.¡± The hotel didn¡¯t smell anymore because he¡¯d managed to get ahold of some copies of the green orb that removed garbage. It was small enough to go in the one miscellaneous copy run every week, and Bill had handed them off to Myles when he¡¯d come down to help assess building stability. The diminishing returns on skills meant that it made more sense to let four different people crack them, so Myles had handed them off to the ex-cultists to learn about birds or something. The diminishing returns also meant that the building only magically vaporized twenty five-ish pounds of trash a day, but it had been a few days already, and the smell had apparently gone out with the random gross things in the various room garbage cans, and *especially* all the rotting food in the commercial kitchen. ¡°It doesn¡¯t smell anymore, no.¡± Myles agreed. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯re here for at least a week, probably. So, do you wanna, like, trade off on¡­?¡± ¡°Nope!¡± Yin jumped in. ¡°I like this part.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know! I do too!¡± Myles rolled his eyes, pacing back and forth next to the hotel bed that had been shoved over into the corner of the room. ¡°I wanna do the exploring thing for once! I¡¯m¡­ Jesus, am I really gonna say this?... I¡¯m tired of spying on wizards and running comms all the time.¡± He realized how stupid that sounded. ¡°I never get to actually do the fun urban exploration shit. I *like* urban exploration.¡± Myles tended to not say much that often, but here, with just another rogue around, he let his guard down for just a minute. ¡°Christ, Yin, I joined a magical secret order. I didn¡¯t do it to be a¡­ a¡­ whatever this is.¡± ¡°Talk to James about it.¡± The girl shrugged casually. ¡°Get on a delve team or something. Oh! Did you see the update on the server last night? Rogue armory got a new toy. Next time Bill comes down he should have a purple for us!¡± ¡°For you.¡± Myles commented, checking his phone for any messages from the currently deployed team. The city had pretty bad service, what with how a psycho with a mace had demolished the local cell towers. The Order had gotten *one* working again, barely, and only because Camille hadn¡¯t been through about her job, which was enough for them to make iffy calls. But it left Myles constantly paranoid about communication with the exploration teams, radios or no. ¡°For¡­ us?¡± Yin rebutted. ¡°You¡¯ll like it. Chat says it gives improved manual dexterity. You know, for¡­¡± She waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively. Myles ignored the innuendo. ¡°Nice. Have fun with that.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go check in on everyone before the teams rotate out. You¡¯re looting the Kroger tonight, right? And everything in that little strip mall?¡± ¡°*Exploring*. Also yes. Also hey! Get back here!¡± Yin scrambled over a chair, launching herself toward the door after Myles as she pursued him. ¡°Have you not been using armory orbs?!¡± She demanded. Myles shrugged as he made his way to the elevator, before remembering that this building¡¯s elevator had a bad case of ¡®being stabbed with spikes of stone¡¯, and sighing toward the stairs. ¡°No?¡± He said, tentatively, before reaffirming it. ¡°No.¡± ¡°You work for a magical secret order!¡± She accused him. ¡°Yeah, and I don¡¯t have magic. Weird world, huh?¡± Voice echoing off the bare concert of the damaged stairwell, Myles had to admit, he was enjoying this. He got why JP did this kind of thing now. ¡°Are Arrush and Keeka back, or are they still lounging around the Lair? I¡¯m still not sure if they¡¯re, like, working here.¡± ¡°Lair. Also *why*?!¡± ¡°I mean, because they¡¯re refugees, not employees, right?¡± Myles gave her a confused look over his shoulder. ¡°Oh! The orbs! It¡¯s for the Old Gun.¡± ¡°What?¡± Myles sighed again as he shouldered one of the fire doors open with a metal *chunk*. He hated doing the explanations. Hell, he didn¡¯t really like talking to people. Yin was friendly enough, but Myles just liked working alone. ¡°I¡¯m an experiment Nate¡¯s running.¡± He said. ¡°The Old Gun, and Lloyd, both did this thing where they sort of knew what magic was-¡° ¡°Lloyd?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not playing this game.¡± Myles shook his head. ¡°The point is, they can sense magic. Or something like it. *So*, if you want someone to *run surveillance on things like that*...¡± ¡°You need someone with no magic.¡± Yin finished. ¡°Oh, buddy.¡± She moved in to hug Myles. ¡°That¡¯s so sucky! I¡¯m sorry!¡± He dodged the hug. There was part of him that wanted to let her know that the amount of catchup magic he¡¯d been promised far outstripped what he was giving up, and that *patience* was something he was good at. But Myles was more or less done sharing for now. Also Myles was not a hug person. Lots of stuff had changed in his life, but he wasn¡¯t quite there yet. Though, if there was one thing that was nice about working for the Order, it was that no one ever made him feel pressured like he *had* to get hugged. That had been an alarmingly common problem in his past. He ducked Yin¡¯s second attempt, and pivoted with the move he¡¯d been drilled on to move in for a tackle. Except he executed it *away* from Yin, and hopped away lightly, gaining some distance. ¡°Okay, well, nice talking to you.¡± Myles stated dryly, heading toward the common room where everyone tended to gather. ¡°Go check your stuff for tonight. I¡¯ll let you know if Nate comes up with a job that¡¯s actually *for us*.¡± He waved at her. Yin just flipped him off, doing a little loping stride as she made her way out the side door of the hotel, heading for the garage where they stashed everything. Still, Myles noted that the girl was one hundred percent alert; her head made small twitches as she scanned the area for any of the necroads that might have wandered in. There were too many of those. Myles didn¡¯t dwell on it. He didn¡¯t have time to dwell. He¡¯d been cursed for not being fast enough to get assigned to one of the Rogue teams that were hijacking traffic cams or trying to blackmail FBI sub-directors. And now he had to deal with people. The people here were used to JP, so Myles fell easily into mimicking his boss as he entered the open meeting hall area. A deep breath, and he let the persona slide over him: easy smile, hands in pockets, don¡¯t slouch but don¡¯t march either. Eye contact and snarky encouragement. He could do this. Kirk and Dorothy were sitting by themselves, reading printouts of the Order¡¯s operations manual and taking notes. Dorothy, hair going gray a lot faster these days, looked like she was prepared to set the whole binder on fire with just her raw irritation. Kirk looked like he was prepared to treat everything in there as a vacation destination. Myles gave them a friendly greeting, being up front about just checking in, not wanting to waste their time. They were both ready to go for tonight, he quickly found out, which was a relief. Dorothy was¡­ well, she was older. Early sixties, Myles knew. And while the Order had found a few purple orbs that did a good job improving her health and comfort of living, she was still not someone who you could just expect to be okay with expeditions on a nightly basis. Which was a shame, because she had two spells that were both incredibly useful to the reclamation crew. Being able to draw stability out of roads and direct it where she chose was a good way to secure buildings they needed to sweep that were at risk of collapse. And the spell that shaped gasoline and other fuels was sometimes the *only* way they¡¯d ever dare risk sweeping a gas station or anywhere that had a highly flammable spill. By contrast, Kirk was ready to go basically whenever. Myles had actually had to *stop* him from taking extra runs, and this conversation was just a reminder of how damn eager the kid - well, no, Kirk was older than him, but whatever - was to get out there and see and use magic. He could render a journey ¡°safe¡±, which sounded like the kind of causality violation that the operations manual warned against. But was a boon for getting back okay, especially after a taxing run in with some of those bone and asphalt claws. They were both doing okay. Which was good. Myles didn¡¯t bother reminding them of anything; they¡¯d gotten in the routine at this point. He was just being friendly, making them feel welcome. He didn¡¯t overstay his own welcome, though, and moved on. Bill was trying to get his phone to connect so he could keep up on what Research was doing with the orange totems. Myles could empathize with that, really. You finally find the one thing you love doing, and then you get sent off to somewhere else. And it wasn¡¯t that either of them hated having actual jobs to do, but they were both itching to get back to their real work. Bill *got it*, and knew Myles did too. He let the older man talk about his kid¡¯s school play for a bit, before moving on. Myriad-Shining-Stars was new here. She looked kind of out of place; most camracondas did when they came here. Myles thought it was because it was the first time they realized just how *big* the world was. Not just one city, but several. Dozens. Hundreds. He made sure she was settling in okay, let her talk as often as he could, and got *just* loud enough in his replies about her interests to drag in one of the other Order members who was lounging around and killing time in the area. He left the two of them to talk about astronomy, and how clear the sky was here, and moved off with a grin. Make sure everyone was okay. Make sure everyone had what they needed to have, knew what they needed to know. ¡°Leadership¡±, or something. It was *exhausting*, and if Myles hadn¡¯t just been pretending to be JP, he would have been overwhelmed. When he found himself with some free time, he took advantage of being in control of the building, and climbed up to the roof. The hotel certainly wasn¡¯t the tallest structure in the world, but it was enough that he could look out over a good chunk of nearby city. Cold, damp evening air chapped his lips as he surveyed the buildings and streets near them in the blue-gray light of the late afternoon. A trio of vehicles rolled out from the attached parking garage, the second team moving out to scout a little more of the city as the Order continued efforts to secure and clean up the area. In the distance, the cries of animals and birds sounded; the urban area suddenly devoid of humanity being rapidly reclaimed by the coyotes and raccoons. Were they coyotes? Myles went to look it up on his phone, and then remembered the data limits with a disappointed scowl. He caught motion on the roof of an office building a mile away. A small black humanoid figure, perched on the edge of an AC unit, twisting back and forth as it stared at the city just like he did, and it seemed that it noticed him just as he noticed it. It was almost a moment of comradery. Myles pulled his radio off the clip on his belt. ¡°Necroad on the roof, coming up on your right.¡± He called in to the exploration convoy. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look berserk, but be careful.¡± He sighed, letting his breath fog the air around him, pulling his coat over his chilled arms. He couldn¡¯t wait for JP to get back. He just wasn¡¯t made for this city. Chapter 178 ¡°It is essential for our struggle for self-determination that we speak of love, as love is the necessary foundation enabling us to survive the wars, the hardships, and the sickness and the dying with our spirits intact.¡± - bell hooks, Teaching Critical Thinking - _____ Overhead, gray and tan panels of roughly carpeted material rose up, met, clashed, and merged. Against a fluorescent sky, a horizon full of hard angles and massive constructs seemed to reach up forever. An artificial horizon for an artificial reality; the form of an office environment stolen and copied over and over and over, until the lines blurred and went fuzzy, and what a ¡®cubicle¡¯ was became unclear. Flocks of printer paper fluttered across the false sky, preyed on by the occasional vicious paper airplane. Below, on the hard carpet floor, cautious, curious, and terrified life forms scavenged and fought, while dangerous apex guardians prowled among them, searching for any sign of intruders. On a much more local level, two increasingly frustrated intruders were busy trying to cut through vines of dot matrix paper, hanging in dangling strips from overhangs formed from the cubicles that now rose to well over fifteen feet high around them. The paper vines *looked* fragile, but the edges were far sharper than they had any right to be. ¡°Why are these¡­ these¡­ *paper things* so thinging sharp!¡± Sarah was doing her best to keep from yelling, and it was going fairly well. She wasn¡¯t an idiot, and she had a lot of experience in this place that told her to keep it down. But it felt important to give voice to her irritation as she tried to yank one of the vines in their way down and just got another shallow scratch on the blade of the machete she was waving around. Anesh wasn¡¯t having much more luck on his end when it came to getting a path cleared, but he was managing to not get too frustrated, or to giggle at his companion¡¯s antics. Perched on his backpack, Ganesh just held on and stayed out of the way, folded insect legs holding a flap of protective cloth over the drone¡¯s head, just in case. Ganesh didn¡¯t offer commentary, but Anesh was pretty sure he¡¯d be laughing if it were an option. ¡°I think that¡¯s the closest I¡¯ve heard you come to swearing.¡± Anesh commented to Sarah, letting the machete he was holding swing down to hang at his side. ¡°Ya know, I think this way might be a bit mucked. Want to circle around?¡± ¡°No!¡± Sarah exclaimed, taking another experimental jab at what looked like a thin part of the vine layers. ¡°It¡¯s hiding something! I can feel it!¡± ¡°Really? Or are you just being dramatic.¡± She turned and fixed Anesh with a withering glower, that no amount of acting skill would let her keep from cracking into a grin for longer than a few seconds. ¡°Okay, dramatic.¡± Sarah admitted, stepping back, carefully dodging one of the strips of paper on the ground. Even pulled down, they were still razor sharp. ¡°Also I swear! I could totally do a swear!¡± ¡°Really? Or are you just-¡° Anesh was giving a companionable smirk when he was cut off. ¡°Oh hush.¡± Sarah sheathed her machete and cocked a stare at the office jungle. Hands perched on her hips, back arched as she looked up at the enormity of the problem. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s try circling. How far back was the last intersection?¡± ¡°Only a hundred meters or so.¡± Anesh pulled out the notepad he had clipped to his side and was using to keep map notes. ¡°Just before that exploding water cooler trap.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Sarah nodded nostalgically. ¡°Good times. Good times.¡± ¡°Well, *times* anyway.¡± Anesh countered, folding up his notes. ¡°We can try circling right, but I dunno, this place looks like it¡¯s meant to be a threshold.¡± It did, too. Twenty feet overhead, the arch of cubicle walls dangled a thick forest of vines, but that wasn¡¯t where the architecture ended. It wasn¡¯t like a normal wall, which they had found before in here acting as usually impassable barriers, but more like the geometry around one of the sunken caves. Wall panels that just barely didn¡¯t line up properly, giving the impression more of a cliff face than a piece of structure. Officium Mundi plants growing out of creases and nooks in the edifice. It actually reminded Anesh a lot of the cliffs in Winter¡¯s Climb. Only less cold. And less¡­ Well, he was going to think ¡®less hostile¡¯, but given that they were being prevented from passing under the whole array by a riot of paper blades, maybe that wasn¡¯t quite correct. ¡°You think it¡¯ll just be more of this?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°I dunno, I¡¯ve never really seen anything like this.¡± She folded her arms over her lightly armored chest. ¡°I¡¯m curious. And you know what that means!¡± ¡°That¡­ you are¡­ a cat? I don¡¯t know what that means.¡± Anesh admitted. Sarah¡¯s shoulders sagged briefly. ¡°Oh. Right.¡± She sounded, for a second, as small as she looked, standing in the middle of an endless Office. But only for a second. ¡°Well, it means we¡¯re going on an adventure!¡± ¡°I¡¯m filled with a sudden inexplicable worry.¡± Anesh blinked, speaking before he realized what he said. ¡°Oh, you do remember!¡± Sarah sounded far too cheerful. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°Wait, I never came in here with you the first go round!¡± Anesh protested, adjusting his pack and letting Ganesh settle in on his shoulder before softly jogging to catch up to Sarah, who had almost immediately turned and started leading the way back down the hallway they¡¯d taken. ¡°Why do I have a reaction to this!¡± ¡°We were friends outside Officium Mundi, you goof.¡± Sarah told him, rolling her eyes. ¡°Also, would you believe I didn¡¯t get up to many adventures in here? Not that I really remember a lot of it.¡± Her voice was wry, in a way Anesh didn¡¯t hear from her often. That said, Anesh hadn¡¯t really hung out with Sarah that much. And he suddenly realized that this exploratory delve was maybe the first one on one time together they¡¯d had in a while. Maybe since she¡¯d come back. ¡°What adventures *did* you get up to in here?¡± Anesh asked, trying to be companionable without prying too much. ¡°Oh, the usual, I guess? We came in through a different door, but I don¡¯t remember where it is, you know? I know we *found* our door at one point, so it can¡¯t be too far away, like, geographically, but it¡¯s not like it¡¯s easy to camp every door in a building for a whole week.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I remember there was a big chasm we tried climbing down once. One of the guys swore they saw the tops of light panels, but we ran out of rope. Uh¡­ there was an office that had shifting sticky notes all over the walls, like chameleon scales. I remember a bunch of little stuff. And all the skill orbs. But I didn¡¯t get too many of those.¡± ¡°Have you¡­¡± Anesh paused, both out of an awkward culturally instilled directive to not talk about emotions, and also because he needed to check a corner for ambush before he and Sarah moved on. ¡°Have you tried maybe asking Planner or Pathfinder to help you get back what you lost? Or making a new infomorph just for that?¡± He glanced over at his companion. ¡°It sounds *horrifying*, not remembering like that.¡± Sarah gave him a brittle smile. ¡°It¡¯s not so bad. At least I remember I had a team, right? Even if I can¡¯t remember their faces.¡± The words were an obvious lie. ¡°And everyone now is great! Even if you have been avoiding me for a *year*.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been busy! Also I swear we¡¯ve talked before now!¡± Anesh defended himself. He was going to say more, but they were caught up in conversation and didn¡¯t properly check the corner at the intersection they were planning to use to circle the jungle, so naturally, that was where the ambush was waiting. *How* a potted plant snuck up on them was not the issue. The issue would be finding a way to edit the Ops Manual to inform everyone that potted plants could do that, without admitting that they¡¯d just been jump scared by a stationary object. ¡°Here.¡± Anesh offered Sarah one of the two yellows the potted plant had dropped, which she took with a stiff movement while Ganesh perched on her head and carefully applied a bandage to where one of the vines had cracked across her forehead so hard it had drawn blood. ¡°We¡¯ve got a backlog of these to copy anyway, so have fun.¡± He said, popping his own. [+1 Skill Rank : Pilot - Fixed Wing Aircraft] Sarah gave him a smile and did the same for her own, letting the brief alien thought in her head guide her to what new knowledge she¡¯d picked up. [+.9 Skill Ranks : Gambling - Baccarat] ¡°I¡¯m still confused as to why some of these give part-ranks.¡± Sarah said, watching the colorful dust of the orb fade to nothingness. Anesh, pulling a chair in from an adjacent cubicle and sliding his backpack to the floor as he dropped into it, perked up at the question he could actually answer. ¡°They have a structured drop-off in effectiveness if they¡¯re copies of an orb you¡¯ve already used. I think they stop doing anything entirely after four uses. It goes one, point six, point two, point one, nothing.¡± He thought for a second, then corrected. ¡°Okay, not ¡®nothing¡¯. But ¡®plus zero ranks¡¯. So, nothing.¡± ¡°Okay, but this one wasn¡¯t a copy.¡± ¡°What did you get?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°I got flying.¡± ¡°You can fly?!¡± Sarah pouted at him. ¡°That¡¯s not fair! I want to fl¡­ wait, wouldn¡¯t that be a purple?¡± ¡°*Fly an aircraft* you¡­ goof.¡± Anesh couldn¡¯t help but laugh at Sarah¡¯s antics. The girl was all over the place sometimes, but he *got* why she was friends with James. And everyone else. She was just¡­ devoted to being a friend, really. ¡°Anyway, what did you get? Because you get partial ranks if you¡¯re already learning something. I think it rounds you up to the next ¡®rank¡¯, whatever a rank is. We still can¡¯t figure out any meaningful way to measure that.¡± ¡°Baccarat.¡± ¡°The card game?¡± Anesh tilted his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ I mean, I guess we haven¡¯t talked much, but I didn¡¯t know you were into that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not, I just know things, because I am wise and terrible.¡± Sarah waggled her fingers at him like what she imagined a great wizard would. Anesh stared at her analytically. ¡°Hmm.¡± He said simply. Sarah dropped her hands. ¡°Also I watch random stuff on Youtube a lot.¡± She admitted. ¡°Me too.¡± Anesh smiled. ¡°Well, at least now we have promising careers ahead of us as a pilot and a gambler.¡± He stood and offered Sarah a hand up, wincing as the bruise on his arm pulled tight. ¡°Actually, that sounds like a great adventure show. We should make that.¡± Sarah took the hand and sprung to her feet, light frame making the motion look effortless. ¡°Ah, and now we get to one of those depressing things James made me think about, so now you have to think about it too!¡± ¡°Oh bloody hell, what.¡± Anesh resigned himself to his fate as he added a collection of pens from the desk to his backpack before zipping it back up and shouldering it. ¡°Well, you can fly a plane now, right?¡± Sarah prompted. ¡°In theory. Probably. Yes. Some planes.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t take any of the heavier stuff in the cubicle, because they still had kilometers left to go today, but he did scrounge fifty bucks out of a billfold hidden in one of the drawers. ¡°Okay, many planes. Though only one at a time!¡± ¡°So you could get a job as a pilot?¡± Sarah prompted. Anesh stopped, and slowly looked up at her. ¡°...No.¡± He said, realizing where this was going. ¡°Yeeeeah! You see it!¡± Sarah looked a little too happy to have sprung this revelation on him. ¡°We live in a world where knowing how to do something and being good at a skill *doesn¡¯t make you qualified to do it as a job*. That¡¯s weird! That¡¯s *bad*!¡± She declared the last bit a little too loud, hand pointed up to the ceiling with her index finger extended as she passed judgment on society as a whole. From around them, behind walls that didn¡¯t muffle sound nearly enough, a burst of scratching noises and error tones came to life. ¡°Aw, piss.¡± Anesh grumbled. ¡°Too loud.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± Sarah whispered. ¡°Sorry later! Go!¡± He hissed back, securing his bag and hoisting his hand into the air, launching Ganesh over them with a buzz of gossamer wings, while Sarah grabbed the bat she¡¯d brought along and bolted. Neither of them drew their machetes; those were for clearing obstacles, and basically nothing else. Too many problems fighting with the tools had taught everyone that. Despite Sarah¡¯s careless slip, they *did* have a standard plan for this situation. Retreat toward explored sections, only fight if they had to, and remember that abandoning any gear was preferable to abandoning any people. With that in mind, Anesh ducked after Sarah, who was staying low and running to the hall they¡¯d came down to get to this part of the dungeon. To their left, a pair of shellaxies making predatory dings were crawling out of holes in the cubicle walls, the larger of the pair covered with iLipedes that were latched on like lampreys. Anesh pulled one of the electromagnets off his armor¡¯s rigging, twisted it to engage the battery, and flung it sideways down the hall before chasing behind Sarah. Swarms in Officium Mundi could come out of nowhere. Sometimes, you could fire a gun and attract no attention. Other times, a single word slightly too loud could trigger a horde of the local creatures pouring over walls and out from hidden nests to try to murder an unfortunate delve team. Right now, it felt like ¡®the locals¡¯ were everything Officium Mundi had. Ahead of him, Anesh saw Sarah leap over a snapping alligator clip before bringing her bat up in a whirling arc, taking a stapler out of the air with a shouted ¡°Sorry!¡± Behind her. Anesh snatched the yellow orb out of the air as it fell, making a less graceful and more violent jump over the black plastic snapper that tried to take his leg off. As his boot crunched into its snout, he fumbled his gloved fingers into a pocket and pulled out the pen that got brighter and brighter the longer it was open, flipped the cap off, and dropped it behind him. At the end of the day, a flashbang would probably be cheaper than a magic pen that accomplished the same thing, but right now, anything between them and the stuff chasing them was a perk. Ahead of him, Sarah called a check in and Anesh answered, letting her know he was still good. Without looking, she took a corner, sliding into an acrobatic roll along the floor that Anesh envied her for being able to do that casually. He had to slow down himself, almost crashing into a vending machine, which *he* apologized to, slapping an electric mouse into the wall to his left with a chitinous crunch before it could try to electrocute him as he took the corner. The place was crawling with life, all of a sudden. When it had seemed so *empty* on the way in. Anesh almost slammed into Sarah as he took the corner, the girl standing still right in the middle of the hall. No, not standing still. Unmoving. Anesh uttered something he was pretty sure was a rude word as he *exhaled*, and pushed the magic from the Climb into the world. James had taken something for architecture, because that¡¯s who James was. Nik had grabbed something he thought would be good for healing, because that¡¯s how Nik was. But Anesh? Anesh was a mathematician. Not for an end goal, but because he understood it, and loved the work itself. So he¡¯d taken the tattered textbook on spatial geometry, and just accepted he was going to get what he got. [Fractal Avalanche | Two Breaths | Seconds] had been the magic that settled into his lungs, just under the ball of power that accumulated as he breathed normally. And now, he pushed out his Breath, and the spell along with it. *Unfortunately*, this was one case where having multiple bodies wasn¡¯t a great solution. Every iteration of him, as long as they stayed ¡®updated¡¯, actually shared a Breath pool. Which would mean that the rest of him would get a painfully cold signal that one of them was casting as the spell went off. Fortunately, though, the spell worked the way he wanted it to. Anesh moved *through* Sarah, his sensory self emanating from what would have been his actual position, but his physical form shattered into a dozen pieces. He got a good look at the camraconda that was staring her down, too, all blue Ethernet cable and one of those domed pod cameras for a head and a set of two rows of green LEDs down its flanks. It was weird, none of the camracondas that had become part of the Order had LEDs. Maybe they were an older model thing. And then, with minimal time to consider that, from a dozen different perspectives, Anesh slammed into the camraconda as he reformed into a single entity. The end result was him on the ground with the snake in a chokehold, one hand clamped over its eye so hard he felt the plastic chitin cracking. At least one of his projections had elbow dropped the monster in the side of its neck, and its thrashing was weaker than Anesh expected as he pinned it down and freed Sarah. ¡°Please stab it!¡± He called, as the edges of the swarm still after them started to locate them from over the tops of the walls around their position. Sarah, though, was not one for stabbing. ¡°Yup!¡± She lied, a sparkling laugh in her voice as she ran over and threw a salvaged coat over the camraconda¡¯s head, tying off the arms tightly in its mouth as it tried to bite her. ¡°Okay, come on!¡± She grabbed Anesh¡¯s arm and pulled him up with surprising strength, before hooking her fingers into the surface of the camraconda¡¯s cables and yanking the hundred-plus pound serpent form up over her shoulder as well. ¡°Let¡¯s gooooo!¡± Sarah¡¯s adrenaline fueled excitement failed to infect Anesh, who just shook his head and staggered after her. He felt out of breath and drained. But at least he wasn¡¯t the one hauling their new captive around. A whole half hour of running, dodging, and skirmishing later, they found themselves sitting against a door to an actual office space. The windows were frosted glass and obviously fake, the desk looked more like a grim altar than a place to do paperwork, and Anesh was pretty sure the lamp was staring at them, but the wall and door were a godsend for keeping them hidden. Outside, the swarm still moved, but it was dying down as the humans couldn¡¯t be found. Next to him, Sarah was panting heavily, the camraconda being held down by her legs as she caught her breath. Ganesh perched on his head again, similarly out of energy. ¡°Why¡­ aren¡¯t you¡­ winded?¡± She demanded of Anesh. ¡°I don¡¯t need to breathe much.¡± He admitted. ¡°Mountain magic takes it out of me, but running? Running¡¯s easy.¡± ¡°We should hang out more.¡± She said, like the last hour of frantic survival hadn¡¯t bothered her at all. Anesh grinned. ¡°Sure.¡± He said. ¡°We should get a group D&D game going again. Somehow, I *know* you¡¯re into that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m friends with James, of *course* I am.¡± Sarah sounded both excited and affronted all at once. The two of them sat there for a bit longer, Sarah leaning against Anesh¡¯s armor plate. ¡°How do you think he¡¯s doing?¡± She asked. ¡°James? He¡¯s fine.¡± Anesh answered. ¡°He checks in on the server, you know. He¡¯s almost to his Map destination, should be home in a day or two.¡± Sarah waved a hand. ¡°He *says* he¡¯s fine. But is he fine?¡± She questioned. ¡°I posit that he is, in fact, not fine.¡± ¡°He¡¯s¡­ I dunno.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°He¡¯s felt kind of exhausted lately. And I know he¡¯s still dealing with his depression. I just wish I could help more than I am.¡± ¡°You coulda gone with him?¡± Sarah suggested. ¡°Get some good road trip private time in, eh?¡± She poked his arm suggestively. Anesh snorted. ¡°That¡¯s not what he needs and you know it. Probably. Also, are we back to the friend stage where you¡¯re going to be shipping us? I don¡¯t know *why*, but I have this feeling that this was a thing.¡± ¡°This was absolutely a thing.¡± Sarah confirmed. ¡°Also, I just realized, James has *my car*, so he isn¡¯t allowed to telepad back. So it might be a few more days.¡± ¡°Eh. Let¡¯s send the golem to pick him up.¡± Anesh decided. ¡°Speaking of¡­.¡± He looked down at the squirming camraconda, then back up at the standing lamp that was *absolutely* watching him. ¡°Do you want to telepad back to home base? I feel like we¡¯re not getting through that jungle today.¡± Despite crushing her dreams of seeing an overgrown and living part of the Office , Sarah did agree. After only a little dramatic bemoaning, too. The two of them were welcomed back by the guard shift as they dropped off their findings, and the pile of orbs they¡¯d collected. Then they settled in to wait, or to be backup for someone else who might need it while they explored their own sections. Just another day at the Office. _____ Momo was having a bad day, and looking to express that in a way that was probably unhealthy and self-destructive. Or, at the very least, just regular destructive. ¡°Oh, hello.¡± Lua greeted her with a bit of surprise as Momo rounded the ramp leading into the depths of the high school. It surprised Momo a bit to see her there, but then, the Order *had* been trying to keep an active watch on this door, and Lua worked here anyway. The actual *why* of why Lua worked here made sense to Momo. The woman just wanted to rebuild a life, do work with the skills she¡¯d built up over a lifetime. It was just strange to her, every time she met someone who tried to distance themselves from the hidden magic of the world. Though Lua still did keep watch for them when it mattered. Momo just wished that she wasn¡¯t keeping watch now. ¡°Hey Lua.¡± She returned the greeting pleasantly, making her voice as normal as she could. ¡°Just here to check a couple things. Door¡¯s not open, is it?¡° What a loaded question. ¡°It *is*, which you should know. School hours, until everyone has gone home for the night.¡± Lua didn¡¯t exactly narrow her eyes, but caught off guard like this, her voice betrayed suspicion. ¡°Wait, what about night security?¡± Momo asked, legitimately curious and distracted by it. Lua¡¯s answer was, again, not openly scornful, but maybe had a hint of mild bitter amusement. ¡°This is a relatively small school in the middle of an upper class suburb.¡± She said. And then, more directly, ¡°Momo, what are you doing here?¡± If Momo could have hidden the duffel bag she was carrying behind her back, she would have. But she¡¯d been caught unawares, and now looked a bit *obvious*, didn¡¯t she? ¡°Nothing?¡± She ventured. ¡°Young lady¡­¡± Lua¡¯s words were stern and disappointed as she crossed her arms. ¡°Does no one get that I¡¯m *twenty three*?!¡± Momo was suddenly offended, and it merged with the lingering anger in her chest. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine! I¡¯m just checking some stuff, or something. I¡¯ll come right back out.¡± She pulled something out of her pocket. ¡°Look, got a telepad and everything.¡± Momo waggled the paper around like it was a passport to anywhere. Which, well, it kinda was. Lua¡¯s voice was almost a whisper. ¡°That door doesn¡¯t open from the other side, you know.¡± ¡°I *know*.¡± Momo snarled. ¡°I don¡¯t care! Please let me get by, because we both know you can¡¯t actually stop me.¡± It was the closest thing Momo had ever come to threatening someone, and she regretted it instantly, but she didn¡¯t know what to do to take it back. Or if she could. There was more worry than hurt in Lua¡¯s eyes, though. Even as she stepped aside, she was saying something reassuring to Momo that the younger woman didn¡¯t properly hear over the rushing in her ears. And then she was through the door. As the rusted metal and flaked blue paint of the security door shut behind her with all the violence of a row of prison bars being slammed, Momo didn¡¯t waste time finding a mostly dry spot on the rough concrete floor and dropping her bag. The entrance room was as disgusting as ever. Some kind of algae grew in dripping lines from broken showerheads around the walls that had probably never had actual water run through them. The recessed drains in the floor had red and brown liquid stains surrounding them. And almost the whole place was damp, which unfortunately probably explained why the room smelled like stale sweat and wet dog vomit. Obscured graffiti lined the walls, wordless and intimidating. Momo didn¡¯t waste time strapping the hard shell armored plates over her clothes. She¡¯d worn stuff she didn¡¯t really care about today, which mostly meant she was wearing shredded jeans and a shirt so faded she didn¡¯t remember if it was for a band or a con. Nothing of value to be lost when something inevitably puked acid on her. She fell into a rhythm with her motions. Armor out of the bag, pull it on, tighten straps, hook to another plate. Repeat. It took her only a few minutes to be good to go; even though she wasn''t used to doing this alone. Then, still moving rapidly so she didn¡¯t have to linger, she brought out the bits of a staff, screwed them together, and leaned propped it up against the bag while she flicked a phone flashlight on and tucked the light into her armor¡¯s chest rig. The dungeon had stolen her knives, which was annoying, but at least all the thick glass bottles she¡¯d brought were intact. Then she added a half dozen inactive scrambler totems to her belt pouches, flipped open a pair of dungeontech glasses that highlighted sharp lines, and stood up to get moving. Which was when she heard the door slam shut again, and jerked in startled fear as she realized someone had followed her in here. ¡°Fucking *dammit* Lua!¡± Momo snapped through her filter mask as she turned. ¡°I don¡¯t need¡­!¡± She trailed off as Simon, already in his own armor, grimaced at the smell. ¡°Ugh.¡± Her friend muttered. ¡°Nope. Still hate this.¡± He added as he rummaged through a much smaller bag than hers. ¡°Aw, it took my gas mask!¡± Simon complained like Momo wasn¡¯t staring daggers at him, before pulling out a much less effective mask that matched her own and settling it over his mouth and nose. Added to that was an aluminum baseball bat that he pulled off a loop on his backpack, before he set his own phone flashlight. ¡°Okay, ready.¡± He commented, ignoring Momo¡¯s glare. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± She demanded. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Delving.¡± Simon said, voice neutral. ¡°You set?¡± Momo tried. She really did her best, to keep glaring so long that Simon just left. But he wasn¡¯t giving her a reaction to it, and she was wasting time, and it didn¡¯t matter anyway. So¡­ ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± Momo sighed angrily. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± So they went. Into the tunnels of clustered pipes, their lights doing a poor job of providing any real light, but still letting them take cautious steps without the panic of walking in pitch darkness. The smell of the entrance faded, slowly, replaced almost without notice by the scent of burnt meat and rotting fruit. The sounds of liquids dripping and flowing would occasionally cascade through the pipes, sometimes with bits splattering out of jagged gashes in the walls around them. Momo pointed those out, when her glasses lit them up for her, and the pair steered clear of the obvious hazards. The dungeon, she thought grimly, had been growing. Changing. The path they were on had split multiple times by now, no longer a straight shot of a tunnel. And not only that, but the tunnel wasn¡¯t a straight line either; it had swells and dips in elevation, twisted and curved. The branches were almost always very short dead ends, but that didn¡¯t change that this was becoming less a hike and more a maze. More like an actual dungeon. One of the branches ended with a packed dirt floor, recessed into the pipes that still coiled around the wall like inorganic veins. In the middle of the floor, two raised dirt pillars stood, one higher up than the other, both of them over a glowing green pond of thick slime. The taller pillar had one of those handprint indentations that the Ops Manual mentioned. They still didn¡¯t know what these were for. But Simon had just shrugged, handed his bag to Momo, gotten a running start, and then launched himself in a high jump that took him higher than a human should have been able to go. He¡¯d slammed into the taller pillar¡¯s lip with his chest, and pulled himself up easily to press his hand into the waiting slot, and unleash a small burst of purple sparks to funnel into his arm. ¡°Show off.¡± Momo muttered as she handed him back his bag. The two of them kept going, Momo taking every opportunity to slam her steel toe boots down onto the skittering bugs that would sometimes dart out from hidey holes, or scatter across the pipes when the light touched them. Every chitinous pop as she killed one accompanied by a single red spark, and a more human burst of a vindictive rush. It was when they came to a more open section that things started to get really bad, though. The floor fell away around them, as did the walls. There was just the unstable pipes underfoot, a cavernous space overhead, and a black abyss below. A musty wind whistled past, pushing them downward, while an unhealthy blue glow emanated from multiple holes in the pipes ahead. The only thing that made this even remotely doable was that the pipe bridge was mostly flat, and still about eight feet wide. Momo went first, Simon followed, both of them on high alert. Which was the main reason why, when the first ratroach threw itself from a recessed hole in the side of the wall to land in front of them, Momo didn¡¯t even let it get its knife up before she whipped her staff around, twisting her whole body to make sure it hit with as much force as she could muster. The strike hit the side of the ratroach¡¯s neck, and crushed it inward, snapping bone and chitin and pulverizing flesh and flinging it sideways. It dropped limpy, and Momo howled at it as she stepped forward and planted a kick into the downed creature¡¯s face, sending it sliding back and finally over the edge of the tubes. If it wasn¡¯t a corpse already, that was too bad for it, because it would be falling for a *long* time. Then the next ratroach hit the bridge, and Momo didn¡¯t even hesitate before doing something similar to that one. Her world narrowed to the fight. Green-black ichor or blood or whatever Deb had decided it was, red sparks, the burn of her muscles as she swung her staff hard enough to break bones, the screams of the bugs still throwing themselves at her, the clinical tactical choice of activating a few of her scrambler totems and flinging them into their nests along the wall. It all blurred together. She barely noticed when Simon¡¯s bat whirled through the air from a judicious fling just over her head and ricocheted off a diving wasp thing just before it hit her, sending both bat and wasp spiraling downward. Or Simon kicking away the ratroach that had managed to get all three of its hands wrapped around her leg to try to drag her off balance and over the edge. She didn¡¯t notice much of anything, really, until there weren¡¯t any more things trying to kill them. Momo stood in the middle of a bridge over a hole too deep to see the bottom, panting through her mask, covered in other thing¡¯s blood. She looked down at the broken staff in her hand almost curiously, before dropping it over the edge to soundlessly fall away. But then she just¡­ stood there. ¡°Holy shit.¡± She heard Simon mutter from behind her. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Momo said adjusting the strap of her bag, and taking steps that shook more than she had expected toward the other side of the room. Once they were off the bridge, and the tunnel was more or less empty around them, Simon called for a stop. ¡°Hold up.¡± He said. ¡°I need a drink.¡± He pulled out a bottle of water, downed about half of it before offering it to Momo, who waved it off. ¡°Stay hydrated.¡± Simon said simply. Reluctantly, Momo took the accepted bottle, and sipped at it, before realizing how thirsty she was and gulping it down. ¡°Thanks.¡± She mumbled. ¡°Of course.¡± Simon said. It wasn¡¯t *fair*, Momo thought, how fucking nice her friends were. And she hadn¡¯t even really hung out with Simon or James for¡­ since they stopped being two people. It wasn¡¯t fair, that he cared about her this much. That he was here prowling through a sewer with her, instead of doing something useful. That he was just being here, not prying or asking stupid questions or¡­ or¡­ ¡°Nameless died.¡± Momo said, handing back the empty bottle. Simon paused as he took it back, but only briefly, tucking the empty container back in his pack while Momo withdrew a shaking hand. ¡°The AI?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Momo tried to take a deep breath through her nose, and instantly regretted it, snapping her mask back into place and coughing out the smell. ¡°The AI I made. By accident. And then let die.¡± She trailed off, and then turned to look down the upcoming pitch black tunnel. ¡°Anyway, let¡¯s¡­¡± Simon¡¯s armored form thunked into hers, arms wrapping around her front as he gave her the kind of awkward hug only someone very supportive and also wearing riot gear could. There were a lot of things Simon *didn¡¯t* say. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡±, because obviously he was sorry, and also there was no way to say that without it sounding hollow. ¡°That¡¯s terrible¡±, because of course it was terrible; repeating that fact just drove it home, it didn¡¯t solve anything. And he absolutely didn¡¯t go with ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Because Simon had approximately two lifetimes of experience telling him not to be *that* much of an idiot. There were, it turned out, a lot of words that just didn¡¯t mean anything when faced with the severing of a connection by the yawning void of death. ¡°It¡¯s okay, you know.¡± He said quietly, instead. Momo¡¯s fury spiked up, and she started to twist out of his grip. ¡°No it-!¡± ¡°To be angry, I mean.¡± Simon said, still keeping his serene attitude, feeling Momo go still. ¡°To be¡­ you know¡­ pissed off.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not angry.¡± Momo lied. She could almost *feel* Simon raising his eyebrows. ¡°Oh yeah?¡± He asked, pulling back and using a gloved hand to wipe a smear of ratroach blood off his armor. ¡°Okay. If you say so. Dumbass.¡± ¡°If I was angry, there¡¯s no one to be angry *at*, except myself.¡± Momo said, dropping her arms down to her sides, staring past Simon. ¡°Since I didn¡¯t do enough.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡± Simon said with a shrug. Momo dragged her line of sight over to her friend. ¡°What?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡± He repeated. ¡°There¡¯s plenty to be pissed at.¡± Simon gave another shrug. ¡°Just the unfair nature of the world, I guess. At how cruel death is. It doesn¡¯t have to be your fault to be awful, and it¡¯s okay to be angry at how awful it is.¡± ¡°...Lua¡¯s a better therapist.¡± Momo eventually settled on muttering. ¡°Ah, but Lua isn¡¯t as good at watching your ass in a fight.¡± Simon countered. ¡°Do you want to keep-¡° ¡°Is *that* why you didn¡¯t hit the bird until it almost got me?¡± Momo demanded. ¡°Too busy looking at my ass?¡± ¡°I blame James.¡± Simon said without hesitation. But Momo froze, the sudden reminder of their sort-of-dead friend bringing her up short. ¡°Oh. Sorry.¡± Simon¡¯s eyes softened, the joke fading away. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ the joking helps.¡± He said. ¡°Who are you, anyway?¡± Momo asked. Though her voice had lost a lot of her earlier anger. She realized how much her legs were trembling with either exhaustion or adrenaline, and considered finding a seat, but then remembered where they were. ¡°Are you still Simon? Or¡­?¡± ¡°Both. Neither.¡± Simon shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m who I am after the lines started to blur. I¡¯m who we¡¯ve always been.¡± He said, putting a tone to his words that made it clear he¡¯d practiced that line. ¡°I¡¯m not really ¡®Simon¡¯, any more than you¡¯re ¡®Momo from four years ago¡¯.¡± He paused to smash down some kind of bug with too many legs and what looked like canine teeth that had been sneaking up on him. ¡°Do you wanna keep moving? I hate this place.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡± She said, kicking her legs out a couple times to try to reestablish control of them. ¡°Wait, back up. James liked my ass?¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± Simon nodded. ¡°And you¡­ sort of *are* part James now?¡± She tapped a gloved finger to her chin. ¡°Yup.¡± Simon agreed, reaching for something and coming up empty. ¡°Dammit, I lost my bat.¡± He muttered to himself. Momo nodded. ¡°So *that* means that *you* like-¡° ¡°Alright let¡¯s goooo!¡± Simon announced a little too quickly, pushing past her and leading them into the tunnel. Momo followed. Still not okay, but doing a bit better. More pipes. More branches, dead ends. Sometimes, a door, which they mostly ignored. Very occasionally, they¡¯d find a question clawed into the wall that they could sometimes answer for a burst of green sparks. They talked as they moved, now. Momo opening up, the floodgates broken. ¡°I just didn¡¯t know what to do.¡± She confided in her friend. ¡°I tried different totems, I tried adding stabilizing programs. Tried adding or removing hardware. Fuck, we even tried giving Nameless an authority.¡± ¡°Did that not work?¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t take it. Wouldn¡¯t accept it. Planner said it had to do with the nature of how Nameless thought, but I think the AI just¡­ rejected it.¡± Momo seemed to deflate a little. ¡°It wasn¡¯t even trying to stay alive.¡± She said, pain in her voice. ¡°It didn¡¯t care. Like it didn¡¯t *matter*!¡± Her words came out bitter and obviously upset. ¡°And it *is* my fault! Because I built the thing to find dungeons, and not to be a person, and it¡¯s *exactly* the shit James is always saying, about how we *don¡¯t build people to be tools*, and I thought I was *smarter* than than! I¡¯m supposed to be smarter than that!¡± Her yell echoed off the pipes, and a screaming howl replied, something like a too-long multi jointed human arm with the skin sloughing off sliding out of the pipes overhead and grabbing for her. Momo, having spotted the gap as they approached with her glasses, was less than surprised. She *was* still pretty damn angry, though, and she grabbed at one of the elbows, twisted the arm around her own, and *yanked*, snapping the brittle bone inside and ripping the flesh away with a gooey splatter. Behind her, Simon looked a bit sick as Momo threw the discarded lump of inhuman flesh to the side. ¡°You know what the dumbest part is?¡± Momo asked quietly, beige liquid flesh dripping off her armguard. Simon slid the knives he¡¯d stolen off the dead ratroaches back into their loops on his armor, and made a ¡®go on¡¯ gesture at her. ¡°I think it learned more from James than from me. Like, James-James, not¡­ ugh. I hate names.¡± She muttered. ¡°You know, boss James. The one who recklessly goes on dungeon delves and seems to risk his life sometimes for no fucking reason?¡± Simon looked around them, looked back at Momo, and pointedly said *absolutely nothing*. Momo opened her mouth to ask what he was getting at, when it clicked for her. ¡°Oh.¡± She said. And then, sorrow in her voice, repeated a very small ¡°...oh¡­¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t mean anything, you know.¡± Simon said twenty minutes later as they paused to collect from a no longer defended pool of shaper substance. ¡°The shared recklessness. That doesn¡¯t make it your fault.¡± ¡°Fuck off.¡± Momo hissed as she filled bottles with the twisting fluid. ¡°I was supposed to be a responsible creator. And I got my... my kid killed.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t even come close to knowing if that¡¯s true.¡± Simon chastised her. ¡°You *built digital life*, Momers. That¡¯s probably a first for everyone. There¡¯s no parenting guide for this.¡± He sighed into his mask. ¡°I know that I can¡¯t make it better, but I¡¯m telling you, it¡¯s not your fault. It¡¯s okay to be angry, right? But it¡¯s not your fault.¡± ¡°It feels like it.¡± Momo sniffed back a sob. Simon realized something, suddenly. ¡°When did this happen, anyway?¡± He asked. ¡°Couple hours ago.¡± He winced. ¡°And you didn¡¯t¡­ and you came here?¡± For the first time, his words might have had a little bit of judgment in them. ¡°I was pissed.¡± Momo sniffed. ¡°And now?¡± ¡°Still pissed.¡± She said. ¡°But also feeling gross and tired and a different angry.¡± She sniffed again. ¡°I should have just fucking gotten Marjorie to make me a cake, eaten a whole cake, and cried in my room. Coulda saved a lot of trouble.¡± Momo looked up. ¡°Also thanks for following me.¡± ¡°Anytime.¡± Simon said, easily. ¡°Do you want to telepad out?¡± ¡°No.¡± Momo shook her head. ¡°We¡¯re almost at the exit, I want to grab some books, and also there¡¯s something I need to do.¡± She said. Simon shrugged, and followed her the last fifty feet to the mouth of the tunnel, and the arena. The rest of the dungeon had gotten improvements, but this place looked as dramatic as ever. A gravel basketball court, with stone bleachers and rusted chain link fence surrounding it. The ratroaches were waiting for them, as always, a jeering crowd hissing and spitting for violence and death. This time, though, more of those crow-wasp things were mixed into the crowed, and Simon swore he saw something that looked like a blend of a dog and a frog mixed into the press of matted fur and chipped chitin. ¡°Yessss.¡± The white furred ratroach in the middle of the arena greeted them, her voice rising to a howl that brought a reverent silence from the others around the place. She¡¯d gotten bigger, and seemed undeterred by James kidnapping her two lieutenants a couple months back; two other ratroaches flanked her now, both of them looking¡­ worried. Eight and a half feet tall, chitin polished to an opalescent sheen, the extra arm sticking out of her right arm now held up by an extra line of flesh that stretched like a ligament. Five mismatched faceted pink eyes blinked at them out of sync, and the acidic blue drool dripping from her fanged maw ran down carved canyons in her chin. ¡°Welllcome-¡° ¡°Shuuuuuut up!¡± Momo snapped out. The words didn¡¯t cut the ratroach off, but the pair of offensive red totems Momo clicked into place and flung out sure did. As the white ratroach - Arrush had called her the Beautiful One, but Momo didn¡¯t see it - and her squad collapsed screaming and clawing at their heads, she spread her arms and turned to the stilled audience. ¡°Anyone want a ticket out of here?¡± She yelled. ¡°Sunshine, real food, and you can be *super* gay without anyone knifing you! I¡¯ve tested it!¡± Simon moved with a little more purpose while Momo did her act, skirting the edges of the totem¡¯s range, ignoring the increasing yells of the ratroaches behind the fence as they raked claws and bone knives over the rusted metal. He held most of their green sparks, and he rushed to the lockers on the other end and cracked the first three he could afford, grabbing the books and shoving them into his bag as Momo kept yelling. ¡°Come on! No one?!¡± She yelled again, striding past the downed ratroaches in the middle of the arena, ignoring the information the totems crammed into her brain. ¡°You! You want out?¡± She jammed a finger toward a nervous looking ratroach in the front row, who promptly threw a wad of something wet at Momo. The projectile was joined by others from the crowd. ¡°No one?! Cowards!¡± She screamed at them. ¡°Fucking cowards! You could have a life! We could take all of you!¡± Momo howled, pausing only as Simon came over and set a worried hand on her shoulder. He pointed with a nod, and Momo looked just as the Beautiful One snapped one of her totem balls open with a desperate claw, smashing the internal web. ¡°Time to go.¡± He muttered, half dragging his manically laughing friend out the back door. The transition back to reality was jarring. It was suddenly quiet, the smell of wet linoleum almost overwhelming after the rancid scents of the dungeon. ¡°Ugh.¡± Momo¡¯s shoulders sagged as she stood at the bottom of the ramp that shouldn¡¯t be here. ¡°I thought at least one of them would¡­ ugh.¡± ¡°Peer pressure.¡± Simon sighed. Both sets of his memories were young enough to remember the feeling perfectly well. ¡°Might need a new tactic.¡± He held out a trio of books to her. Momo took one, and pushed the others back. ¡°Thanks.¡± She said. ¡°You want to head back with me?¡± Simon asked, still concerned. ¡°Magneto misses you.¡± Momo thought for a minute, then shook her head. ¡°If you can take my armor, I¡¯d appreciate it. I think¡­ I dunno. I don¡¯t feel better. But I need to do something. Obviously violence isn¡¯t helping. Maybe I¡¯ll go wander around downtown and abuse my asphalt magic. I¡¯ll come pet the magnet dog later.¡± ¡°Abuse¡­ how?¡± ¡°Like, fix potholes, make sidewalks wider.¡± Momo shrugged. ¡°Fuck up those stupid anti-homeless spikes. That kinda thing.¡± ¡°You¡¯re like an altruistic chaos gremlin.¡± Simon told her with a straight face. ¡°Thanks.¡± Momo told him as she peeled damp armor off her sweaty limbs. ¡°And¡­ and thanks. For being¡­ you, I guess.¡± Simon smiled. ¡°Anytime.¡± _____ In a place between worlds, two people sat in the front of a used hatchback that someone had salvaged out of a mostly intact two car garage in the ruined city of Townton. Making conversation on their way to somewhere else. ¡°Hey, can I ask a favor?¡± Alanna asked her boyfriend. Anesh glanced over at her from the report he was reading in the passenger seat. ¡°Of course.¡± He said, adding before Alanna could reply ¡°You¡¯re fifty percent of my favorite people on the planet. You can always ask favors.¡± Alanna sort of wanted to make an irreverent joke about him being sappy, but¡­ well, especially after the memory loss crap, there was just a warm feeling that came from how emotionally earnest and open both her partners were with their affection. And she didn¡¯t wanna fuck that up, even if she was still getting back into the swing of things. ¡°Cute.¡± She said with a smile. ¡°Anyway. I wanna run an idea by you, and I want you to tell me if it¡¯s one of my actively horrible ones, okay?¡± Setting his work down on his lap, Anesh tipped his head back and gazed out the window into the white fog. ¡°You don¡¯t have horrible ideas.¡± He protested. ¡°The last time I had a big idea, I *basically* proposed making ¡®having a body¡¯ an upper class luxury.¡± Alanna countered. ¡°Yeah¡­ well¡­¡± Anesh opened his mouth and held up a hand to make a random gesture that didn¡¯t actually indicate anything. ¡°It was¡­ you¡­ alright *fine*, that was a bollocks idea.¡± He admitted. ¡°What¡¯s *this* idea?¡± She set her mouth in a smirk, refusing to be offended by what was simply acceptance of the truth. ¡°Okay. So, is there a reason we aren¡¯t working to set up Townton, or even one of the dungeons, as an easy patch for homelessness?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Especially Townton. Because it¡¯s got houses, and they¡¯re basically ours, right?¡± ¡°Mostly.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°We own a shocking amount of it. But yes, there¡¯s several reasons. Active hostile threats are one, obviously. Even in Townton, where there¡¯s still a few thousand necroads wandering around. But the infrastructure just isn¡¯t there. We don¡¯t have an actual supply of basic needs like power, food, and clean water in Townton; remember, most people don¡¯t even remember the place exists, right? And most of the buildings are damaged, too. It¡¯s a terrible place.¡± ¡°Not better than nothing, at least?¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s the thing.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I asked Karen basically this same thing, and I *think* I got an answer that¡¯s not¡­ Karen¡¯s great, but she has biases, yeh? But still. Someone who¡¯s homeless in a city can still access a lot of the elements of that city. We don¡¯t even have those. We don¡¯t even have a grocery store to lift from if someone¡¯s starving. We¡¯d basically be cutting people off, unless we covered everything. And while that¡¯s something we obviously want to work up to, we¡¯re only barely affording operating the Order right now.¡± ¡°Bah.¡± Alanna sighed. ¡°I knew it was stupid.¡± ¡°I mean, your heart is in the right place?¡± Anesh tilted his head back down and his reading back up. ¡°That¡¯s important. And knowing why something won¡¯t work helps us get to a solution that does.¡± He paused, and then added with a comically grim tone, ¡°I learned that in *college*.¡± Alanna gnawed at her lip as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Her boyfriend wasn¡¯t wrong, but he probably wasn¡¯t psychic, and maybe didn¡¯t know that her heart was¡­ harder than it had been, a few years ago. She¡¯d never been in a great spot in life. Taking care of her sisters, tolerating her mom, Alanna had grown up effectively in poverty, which was a sharp contrast to a lot of her long term friends. But she¡¯d always been able to think, big picture, about making things better. About how circumstances could be changed, because it was circumstances and systems that were the problem. Then she¡¯d been stranded, alone and as vulnerable as someone like her could get without being basically chained to a wall, and Alanna had gotten to know a lot of different people. And so many of them were assholes. Not just ¡®an asshole¡¯. There were plenty of benign assholes. No, the people Alanna had encountered had been¡­ cruel. They¡¯d probably say they¡¯d been made hard by a hard world, but she saw what they were. Greedy, selfish. They operated in bad faith, and took what they could. Petty tyrants and heartless bastards. And then she¡¯d seen that attitude, suddenly, mirrored in a lot of the people who built and ran the systems. Alanna had started this whole magical world-fixer thing wanting to maybe start a renter¡¯s union and make some new friends. Maybe friends that weren¡¯t human. Now, though, she was trying desperately to convince herself that there was any value in building anything, if greed seemed to always overwhelm trust. ¡°Honestly kinda surprised the Route isn¡¯t slamming the door shut on us.¡± Alanna eventually broke the silence from the driver¡¯s seat as their car sped through thick white fog, ephemeral hands tapping at the windows and pulling on the wing mirrors. From the passenger seat, Anesh didn¡¯t even glance up from the tablet he was looking at. ¡°Hm?¡± Was the most he acknowledged the comment. ¡°You¡¯re doing *paperwork*, man.¡± Alanna glanced sideways. ¡°I mean, management¡­ work¡­ whatever paperwork on a digital device is. Bureaucracy?¡± ¡°It¡¯s gotta get done.¡± Anesh reminded her easily while he tapped out a response and sent a request for more information to someone, before realizing there could not *possibly* be internet in this liminal space. ¡°May as well be me, while I wait.¡± He told her. Alanna looked out the side mirror where a shape like a playful wolf the size of a mountain bounded in the fog, either four feet or four miles away. ¡°Yeeeeeah¡­ but doesn¡¯t this place like it when you¡¯re¡­ what did El phrase it as? Running away from something?¡± ¡°I am running away from something.¡± Anesh told her, tipping the tablet down and looking out the window at the hypnotic twistings of the fog between worlds. ¡°I¡¯m running away from a world where I have to do paperwork.¡± As if the words were a magic key, the world unfolded around them. The fog pulling back in organic fractal patterns, building a dusty road under the wheels and an endless winding expanse of desert dirt and hot asphalt across the horizon. Overhead, two suns blazed; one red, the other a pale purple and almost brushing against the horizon. Together, they covered half the sky. Alanna let the car roll to a soft stop with only a little help from the brakes, tires crunching on the loose dirt and sand that covered the pavement near this point between Earth and dungeon. While she threw the car in park, and started rolling down her window to absolutely obliterate the lingering chill of a wet winter in Tennessee, Anesh clicked his tablet off and tossed it into the back seat. With an awkward stretch, he pulled his feet up onto the car seat, and started trying to get a look at the road under them, trying to spot any speed bumps collecting around their tires. ¡°I *like* this place.¡± Alanna said, closing her eyes as the dry heat washed into the car. ¡°Being honest, I¡¯m also a bit ready for an environment that isn¡¯t raining all the time.¡± Anesh admitted. A life in both England, and then Oregon, had mostly taught him two things; he liked sunny days, and for some reason kept ending up in places where those were in short supply. The ground looked clear, so the two of them tentatively stepped out onto the hot surface. It was ¡®evening¡¯ here, with the suns not quite exactly overhead, but that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t still broad daylight, with the bright radiation painting everything in hot yellows and oranges. Anesh gave a respectful nod to the Earth-original scrubgrass growing up out of the metal shard gravel that lined the side of the endless highway; James¡¯ attitude toward the determination of weeds having worn off on him a little. ¡°They come through yet?¡± He asked, circling the car to see Alanna standing in the middle of the road, staring off into the distance. ¡°Nope! They¡¯re probably doing *paperwork*.¡± She grinned, her earlier bad mood banished by the sun and road. Anesh wasn¡¯t quite so giddy, still keeping an eye out on the road below them. He and James had never actually had to fight a speed bump, and Anesh still wasn¡¯t convinced they actually *could*. A stone blister full of grinding teeth just didn¡¯t sound quite so easy to drive off or kill as a tumblefeed or a dragon. When he looked back up, Alanna was another twenty feet down the road, arms spread as she took in the dungeon for the first time. Despite having been in Townton when they¡¯d fought the Mechanic, and coming back a few times for supply runs or to help out, she hadn¡¯t actually been *in* here before. ¡°You okay?¡± He called out to her. When she turned back to Anesh, it was with a wide smile on her face. ¡°This place is a *playground*!¡± She announced. ¡°What?¡± Anesh looked around at the rocky desert, the uneven dirt and sand around them, and the road that stretched away eternally. The only thing within sight was a speck on the horizon that was *maybe* a gas station. ¡°Are you¡­ sure?¡± ¡°I get why El liked this place.¡± Alanna nodded, walking back toward him. ¡°This is gonna be great. Cars are an expression of freedom, and this is nothing but a place to go irresponsibly fast in a car. This is perfect.¡± Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°You get that we¡¯re planning to get rid of cars, right?¡± ¡°What?¡± Alanna looked like someone had just eaten a puppy in front of her. Thinking quickly, Anesh patted her on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can design some kind of magical future car that doesn¡¯t kill the planet for you.¡± He said. ¡°Because we love you, you can have a car.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a terrible reason!¡± Alanna laughed. ¡°But whatever. I¡¯ll just enjoy this place. This place is *so cool*. Anesh had his doubts, partially because he was already sweating and starting to miss overcast days, which was a bad sign. But before he could protest, another vehicle cut through the boundary of the entrance, and pulled to a stop beside theirs. Then another one, pulling up behind them. Out of the pickup truck, the burly form of Bill swung out to the ground. ¡°We all just loitering around?!¡± He called over cheerfully. ¡°I thought we were here to work!¡± ¡°I love his enthusiasm.¡± Alanna spoke sideways to Anesh. ¡°I¡¯m not here to work.¡± Mark yelled from the cab of the moving van they¡¯d swiped for this job. ¡°I¡¯m here because no one knows how to drive stick!¡± ¡°I hate his enthusiasm.¡± Alanna¡¯s smile didn¡¯t slip as she waved to the two of them, and the other two delvers with them. ¡°Okay! Any last minute shit before we get moving?¡± She asked, slotting in perfectly to the personality of the two older men from the construction field. ¡°If I die, remember to turn me into a dragon and introduce it to my wife.¡± Bill said, getting a nod of solemn agreement from Mark. ¡°The dragon afterlife is popular.¡± Anesh said as he ran final checks on all the rifle magazines he was handing out to everyone. ¡°You¡¯ve started a trend.¡± He told Alanna. ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t want to be a dragon in a future life maybe?¡± Alanna grinned wolfishly. ¡°Alright. We all know the plan, let¡¯s go!¡± She was back in the driver¡¯s seat before Anesh finished making sure every vehicle had a well stocked gunner. The plan was simple, really. They knew Route Horizon was still asleep, and from experience, they knew sleeping dungeons were often far less hostile. It was the perfect time to explore, not just the roads themselves, but the land around them. The truck was stocked with supplies; water, food, tools, even sheet metal for driving safely over the caltrop trenches and out into the desert, and fifty gallon drums for siphoning gas. And there was so much waiting here. Weird materials, navigator seeds, magic gasoline, shards of spellmaps, it wouldn¡¯t surprise Anesh if there was literal buried treasure in here somewhere. And they aimed to find out if that was true. Also to see what happened when you copied the map chunks. Also to test the limits of what could ¡®burn¡¯ enchanted gas. Also to¡­ so many other things. They were prepared to take a while here. ¡°You think James is gonna regret missing out on this?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Nah. One of me messaged him earlier.¡± Anesh said. ¡°He¡¯s having a good vacation. And he bloody needed one, whether he admits it or not. This fun is *all* ours.¡± ¡°How many of you are there, anyway?¡± Alanna suddenly thought to ask. ¡°I mean¡­ if that¡¯s not rude? Wow, why do I feel like that¡¯s rude? I mean, two of you sleep with me, so it¡¯s at least two, but now I feel bad for asking, and¡­¡± ¡°Deep breath!¡± Anesh laughed. ¡°It¡¯s not rude. We¡¯re gonna need to establish a lot of new social norms, huh?¡± ¡°Like public bathing!¡± Alanna cheerfully agreed. Anesh snorted. ¡°Anyway. It shouldn¡¯t be rude, and there¡¯s four of me. Me, two that stay around the Lair and Office, and then the me that works at NASA.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Probably won¡¯t spin up any new mes for a while, though.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Alanna asked as their car flew past a rock outcropping that cracked a large orange eye at them before settling back. ¡°If that¡¯s not¡­¡± ¡°Are you alright?¡± Anesh asked her, concerned. ¡°You¡¯re normally¡­ look, James once described your personality as ¡®like a social bulldozer¡¯, and you¡¯re being a lot less like you, and I¡¯m worried.¡± ¡°I¡¯m worried I¡¯m gonna offend you!¡± Alanna threw one hand into the air, keeping the other on the wheel as she sped onward. ¡°I love you and shit! I don¡¯t wanna fuck this up!¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s better.¡± Anesh nodded knowingly. ¡°Anyway, the thing is, each of me has a set of memories. When we sync up, I basically ¡®remember¡¯ all of us.¡± ¡°Unspeakably cool.¡± Alanna editorialized. Anesh nodded. ¡°Correct.¡± He said, pausing only briefly to make sure the black speck off to their right wasn¡¯t something closing in on their convoy from the desert. ¡°But! All of those memories are real, and valid. There isn¡¯t ¡®one me¡¯. All of me live all my lives, okay?¡± ¡°Still cool. Hey, actually, how *does* that work with the romance thing? Like, do you get double the feeling when James does that dumb lopsided smile at you and everything feels wobbly for a second?¡± ¡°Remarkably specific.¡± Anesh closed his eyes and let an amused laugh pass through him. ¡°Also *yes*! Which is, as you subtly alluded to, *cool*. Exceeeeept¡­ well, there¡¯s two of me that aren¡¯t around for that.¡± He shook his head, voice quieting to the point it was almost hard to hear over the engine and the tires on the road. ¡°So, the me that works at NASA is adding a set of memories of getting to work on space probes, but also¡­ that me also doesn¡¯t go into dungeons. Doesn¡¯t get to kiss you. Doesn¡¯t have a lot of friends.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad; that me is still a me and still has all the memory sets of everything else. But they¡¯re also adding in memories of lonely days, which are *just as valid*.¡± Alanna glanced over at him with sympathetic eyes. ¡°So, you don¡¯t make more of you, because you¡¯re kind of competing with yourself for social needs?¡± It wasn¡¯t really a question. ¡°That sucks!¡± Alanna announced. ¡°I feel bad for all the other yous now!¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s fine.¡± Anesh chuckled softly. ¡°Though I appreciate it. And it¡¯s not like it¡¯s a solvable problem.¡± ¡°Hell it isn¡¯t!¡± Alanna announced, slapping a heavy hand on the wheel. ¡°Bring all of you to wherever I am! I can handle four Anesh at once!¡± Anesh coughed into his hand. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, I heard what I said!¡± Alanna barreled through. ¡°It wasn¡¯t explicitly meant to be that but now it is!¡± ¡°Well, I...¡° Anesh trailed off, face flushed from something that wasn¡¯t the heat. ¡°Oh thank fuck there¡¯s a parking garage coming up. I¡¯ll radio back. Let¡¯s get ready to stop for a bit.¡± He furiously groped for any way to pull the ripcord on what had become an intensely embarrassing conversation. Alanna shook her head as she passed the radio over to him. ¡°Oh, come on! We¡¯re forging new social norms, remember?¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad this place is improving your mood so much.¡± Anesh murmured as he clicked the radio. ¡°Car one to convoy, we¡¯ve got a point of interest coming up on the right. Slowing to investigate. Over.¡± Alanna let the conversation go. They had plenty of time for personal conversations, deep discussions, and goofing around. They¡¯d be on the road for a couple days. For now, though, she rolled her shoulders as she let the car start to drop down from eighty to something more manageable in a parking lot. There were places to explore, and monsters to fight, and Anesh was right. This place really was helping her mood. Chapter 179 ¡°Alone in its orbit, the Blue, the Empyrean Parasite, the ineffable creature of secret inner fire that had been first among all of Life, saw. The results of its work were painted across eons, and this latest thread it had woven into the grand tapestry pleased it to no end. There had been such potential here, and now it was realized in full.¡± - Apotheosis, Thrive - _____ James¡¯ car, which was actually Sarah¡¯s car, rolled down the freeway at a steady fifty miles an hour. The low speed suited him just fine right now; he wasn¡¯t in much of a hurry, for a handful of reasons. For one, this stretch of road wound through a rocky region. Arizona didn¡¯t really have much on the mountain pass roads he was used to complaining about every time he tried to take an in-state road trip anywhere in Oregon. But it still had ups and downs, the black asphalt of the road winding through canyons of orange and red rock. During the afternoon, sunlight still warm even in the winter had played sharp shadows off the surrounding terrain. Now, at night, there was a more ominous looming to the shapes around him. Extra reasons included that Sarah¡¯s car wasn¡¯t built to do eighty for stretches of time longer than two minutes, that fuel efficiency was a real concern, and that his Velocity was already topped off anyway. For another reason, there just wasn¡¯t anyone here. The freeway was pretty much empty, and James hadn¡¯t seen another car for at least ten miles. And without the pressure of keeping up with traffic, James found he was perfectly fine to go at whatever speed he wanted. That was how he¡¯d been doing this vacation the whole time, really. And it was, for all he¡¯d started out pretending he was going for a specific objective, a vacation. Travel for a bit, stop somewhere. Get off the main roads sometimes, see where it took him. Usually it was nowhere, but sometimes it wasn¡¯t. He¡¯d seen a lot of weird west coast tourist stops that he hadn¡¯t really intended to be destinations. What was supposed to be a straight line to the destination the cartomorph in his head was signaling him toward had instead turned into a week and a half of short hops from gas station to gas station and hotel to hotel, with interesting little diversions mixed in liberally. Cartomorphs. Those ethereal life forms spawned from the Route Horizon monster kills. No one was sure if they ran on mental hardware the same way other infomorphs did, but they sure seemed to bond with a single person a lot more directly than an Officium Mundi assignment did. They were living maps, the voice guide and position tracking of a GPS all rolled into one magical ball and living in your mind. The point was, James could go at his own speed, and with the magic of the internet, he didn¡¯t need to feel like he was abandoning the Order to do it. Stuff just kept going while he was away. Which was *perfect*. He¡¯d finally gotten enough people to act like he wasn¡¯t the big boss that he was, effectively, no longer in charge. In a way, it was kind of scary. For a lot of people, ¡°being in charge¡± was a form of freedom, and for James to willingly give that up¡­ well, there was a real part of his brain that was culturally conditioned to feel like he was letting someone else take control of him. But James had a bigger idea in mind. A world of mutual decision making, where administration and management didn¡¯t equate to ownership and domination. On a small scale, it wasn¡¯t too hard to make it work; he *trusted* the people in the Order. Even the new ones. On a large scale? The coin toss was still in the air, for now. But he wasn¡¯t out of rough ideas he wanted to try out to influence where it landed. A thin string of information ran through his brain, and a small divergent path highlight itself in his vision. James smiled slightly as he shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable after four hours on the road and completely failing to figure out exactly why his pants ceased to be comfortable the instant his road trips passed the two hour mark. The cartomorph in his head, which was leading him to presumably a pretty good burger place, wasn¡¯t really a person yet. And that crux wouldn¡¯t come until he made it where he was going. But a week of driving together had led to them working out a sort of communication channel between James¡¯ waking time behind the wheel, and the ethereal life lived inside his thoughts. Divergent routes were a simple ¡®yes, no, elaborate¡¯ system of the map asking him questions. But it worked well enough, and he was prone to rambling to himself anyway. On the third day, they¡¯d also had to establish a ¡®repeat song¡¯ code, as it turned out the map really liked some of James¡¯ music. ¡°More about what?¡± James asked out loud. ¡°Leadership? Organization formats? What the Order¡¯s been up to¡­?¡± At the last one, the alternate route shifted, and he nodded. ¡°Yeah, I miss ¡®em too. Though we¡¯ll be back before you know it. Possibly literally!¡± He shrugged in an idle gesture to himself before getting back on track. ¡°Things seem to be going okay. Delves are going well, minimal problems there. JP¡¯s got, like, most of the rogues watching a house full of silent potion people, so that¡¯s a thing. Response just onboarded another wave of people, which is making a local ambulance company annoyed that they can¡¯t find EMTs to hire, which Harvey *says* they don¡¯t know is us, but I dunno. I am just kind of waiting for the moment, you know? When everything comes together at once.¡± ¡°No.¡± Signaled the map. ¡°Okay, you don¡¯t know.¡± James sighed. ¡°You know¡­ okay, gotta stop saying that. You don¡¯t always know. *You*. Fuck, what does that word even mean anymore?¡± Freed from the bonds of conventional language and the need to make sense to another human, James was finally left to just let his mind wander verbally. ¡°So, I¡¯m probably one of a small percentage of people who likes sci-fi stories enough to decently conceptualize a being that can think, but not person. Person is a verb now. It¡¯s also a really messy verb, because it means a lot, and nothing.¡± His hands tapped and folded over the wheel as he drove on, headlights cutting through the crisp and empty night. ¡°You aren¡¯t a person. Yet. But you¡¯re still ¡®you¡¯. And you can learn, and sometimes want things. That¡¯s a *weird* state to be in, because I¡¯d kind of call that being a person? But obviously you disagree, and there seems to be some kind of hard conceptual gate you can¡¯t get past until we get where we¡¯re going. Like¡­ kind of a lack of self-conceptualization. I *think* this is what Freud would call not having an ego, but I also don¡¯t really want to give ¡®ol Siggy credit for anything.¡± ¡°Yes¡± signaled the cartomorph sharing his headspace. ¡°Right.¡± James sighed. ¡°And then we choose, yeah? *You* choose. You already know I¡¯ll have you if you want to stay. If you don¡¯t want me, there¡¯s a whole Order to choose from. Or just hang out in until you find who you pair well with. Or *so many* options. You are, quite possibly, the first being who will be able to consent to whether or not you exist, before that¡¯s an issue for you. That¡¯s *amazing*.¡± James paused to glance down at his gas gauge before flicking his eyes back to the road, doing his best to push off the grim feeling in his gut when he thought about existence like this. ¡°Also a little terrifying.¡± He added. ¡°Yes.¡± The cartomorph signaled, a few times in sequence. Yes it was cool, yes it was creepy, yes it consented. James got the point, and smiled. ¡°I mean, humans have been arguing over what a human is for¡­ basically for as long as we¡¯ve been around. There¡¯s this old, probably not true, anecdote of a greek philosopher explaining that man was a bipedal organism. And someone in the audience asks, ¡®with feathers¡¯?¡± James stifled a laugh as he told the old story. ¡°So the guy nods, runs out, and comes back an hour later to slam a plucked chicken down on the table, yelling ¡®Behold! A man!¡¯¡± ¡°No.¡± The cartomorph signaled. James chose to interpret this as incredulity. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± He said, before correcting, ¡°I mean, ¡®oh, probably not¡¯. Look, language is hard, you¡¯re gonna have to get used to people sounding like idiots all the time. Which *might* be a human thing! That¡¯s the point I¡¯m going for. The story might be not real, but it highlights a very real problem that we have, which is that we don¡¯t know how to define ¡®human¡¯. And we absolutely don¡¯t know how to define ¡®person¡¯. You can think, but don¡¯t feel, or want. Does that make you less valid as a person already?¡± He paused, and really thought about it. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know what I even *want* the word to mean. But I look forward to seeing you grow, I guess. That¡¯s all. That¡¯s where I was going with this, probably.¡± He trailed off, not really sure if he had anything else to say, and let the softly playing music from the car¡¯s radio take over as he pressed on. All too soon, other cars started showing up on the road in ones and twos as he neared the tourist town he was stopping at. James checked in to a room at an omnipresent Comfort Inn, updated his mental spreadsheet on the quality of local water pressure as he took a shower, and made use of bad hotel wifi to check updates on the Order¡¯s server with tired eyes. He was *so* tired. Something like thirty plus purple orbs shoring up his flimsy human shell, and yet, just driving a car for a few hours left him flopped on the bed like an inanimate object, barely focusing on his phone screen as he checked in. The last thing he remembered mentally processing before he fell asleep was a logistics report on drums of gasoline in inventory, and something about a combat briefing on an angry gas station, which he felt like he¡¯d probably misread. Tomorrow, he¡¯d make his destination, and start heading home. James woke up more or less resigned to the fact that whatever this place was, there was no way that it could actually live up to the expectation that a two week long vacation just for one burger had generated. It wasn¡¯t going to happen. It was, end of the day, a mundane burger joint that served, as far as a non-corporeal entity without access to yelp reviews was concerned, pretty decent food. James had eaten *multiple* burgers on this trip. Some of them also pretty decent. This place wasn¡¯t going to be anything overly special, it was just¡­ the last stop. He took some time to wake up slowly, checking in with his friends and partners, flagrantly missing a narrow window for hotel breakfast, before he headed out. It was almost insulting that the weather here was so perfect, in the middle of the winter. Back home, James got to experience days like this maybe a handful of times during the peak moments of summer. Here? This blend of comfortable warmth and colorful sun was just a daily thing. Hell, it was practically a reminder that if he¡¯d decided to do this four months ago, he¡¯d be sunburnt already. ¡°Alright.¡± James spoke to himself as he wriggled to a semi-comfortable position in the driver¡¯s seat of an unfamiliar car. ¡°Where¡¯re we going today?¡± The cartomorph responded with a nudge, and James followed. He only had to double back twice when he missed sudden turns, before eventually finding himself on a long rural road to nowhere. Cartomorphs, or navigators as some people were calling the idea, were great for abstract exploration and adventure, but he was under no illusions that a GPS would have given him more of a heads up as to what lane he needed to be in. Hell, he¡¯d checked a map on his phone repeatedly this trip, just to know where he was. ¡°Near the southern US border¡±, currently. Not that it told him much about where he was *going*. Around the car, prickly grasses and sharp trees flew by as James drove. An hour passed, then another. The mile marker signs ticked up, but he didn¡¯t really know where he was going, right up until he saw the scraped up old road sign for a town called Gila Bend. A much larger sign that looked like it was made in the 1970s greeted him after he¡¯d rolled across a bridge over a thin river and started seeing buildings. Population 1,700 people and 5 old crabs. Quaint looking place. There were two kinds of small towns that James had experienced over the last few years, across multiple trips on the road. The first kind were the ones that were dying. Maybe a gas station and two places to get food, a handful of old houses and a few businesses to support them, in the middle of nowhere. Those places maybe used to be mining or farming towns, but now just kind of kept up a drifting existence with no real identity, old buildings continuing to crumble until maybe one day everyone had finally moved away. Highways providing *just* enough passing traffic to keep a few places going. There was almost always at least one active serial killer in those, in his experience. The other kind were almost worse. The places that retrofitted themselves into tourist destinations. Places to *go*, rather than just places to pass through or places that had their own living economy. The kind of places that would pour half the budget into remodeling Main Street, that had six antique shops, and always at least as many rustic bed and breakfasts. Beds and breakfasts? They were, the point was, quaint. Artificially quaint. This one was *both*. And it put James a little on edge to take unmaintained old roads at low speeds, past buildings with ¡®historical site¡¯ plaques out front, when he could see houses that hadn¡¯t been remodeled since the 50s just one street over. He did *not* get a good feeling from the town. Even as he followed his cartomorph¡¯s directions through it, most of his focus going toward driving safely while trying to ¡®listen¡¯ to someone else, James was noticing a lot of people giving him uncomfortable looks from sidewalks and porches. ¡°You, are not welcome here¡­¡± he muttered to himself. Adding a minute later, ¡°Maybe I should have asked if we had any spare Arizona plates before I came down here. I bet we have a dungeontech thing that changes license plates.¡± James was distinctly aware that Sarah¡¯s car, in multiple ways, marked him as an outsider. Maybe this was just the town being tired of *more tourists*. Though there was also a part of him, the part that had to analyze every piece of weirdness in his life as a kind of survival strategy, that wondered if there was such a thing as a naturally occurring infomorph on earth. The dungeons, after all, mimicked organic life. Were infomorphs just parroting a form of life that had always been in the background of human life? And if so, were one or more of them here, making this place feel¡­ shitty? It took less than ten minutes of driving through the small town before he pulled into a parking lot, and somehow got more confused, rather than less. Dak¡¯s Daycare, the burger joint was called. It was like someone had lifted a building from a century ago and dropped it down into the modern day; polished chrome, red leather, a big sign with a weird looking Minotaur mascot on it. It was almost totally anachronistic, and yet, it also felt¡­ not contemporary, but very real. A real place that was ready to go. Maybe it had been here the whole time, maybe it was built recently and the owner just liked the aesthetic. Either way, it fit perfectly into the run down vaguely hostile tourist town that, yes, *did* have at least two antique shops that James had seen on the way in. What was confusing about it was that the parking lot was *packed*. And for a town of this size, that would have made this one building a hell of a tourist destination, but James hadn¡¯t even been able to find this on google. What made it more confusing was the pair of what looked like TV production vans, and whole ecosystems of electrical cables running across the parking lot and through the front doors. James found what was *probably* a parking spot, wedged over to the side next to a half-maintained hedge and facing an empty field of red dirt and cacti., like the town just hadn¡¯t properly rendered in beyond that line, and killed the engine. Stepping out and taking a long breath and a stretch of his sore muscles, he reached out to the cartomorph in his head, to see if anything had changed. Technically, something had. It was pointing him at the door. But aside from that, no lock had been undone, and no choice had been made about personhood. James shrugged. They¡¯d get there when they got there. No hurry. In the meantime, it was late afternoon, he was hungry, and also ravenously curious about what exactly was being filmed here. And also if it was going to stop him from getting a burger. So he threw a mask on, and sauntered in to a scene of absolute chaos. Two people were arguing loudly over by the old style jukebox - complete with actual record collection - over something about a script. An impossibly irritated guy with a power drill and a desperate need for a better belt stood on a ladder affixing what looked like a lighting rail to the ceiling. In the back, through the window into the kitchen, the hiss of cooking meat and the smell of something delicious wafted through the absolutely packed front room. The vast majority of the booths and tables were filled. It looked like the half of the town that *didn¡¯t* have a disdain for tourists had turned out for their chance to be on TV. ¡°Just grab a seat anywhere!¡± A lanky guy with a scrap of hair left on his head and an apron around his waist called as he ran through James¡¯ field of vision. James shrugged, glanced around, found a spot, and took it. Settling into an uncomfortable chair at a small two person table, just as there feeling of something completing flooded through his self; an unlocking and a progression and a dozen other things all at once impacting the cartomorph in his head. Just as soon as it happened, the feeling was gone. Something settled in, and the sensation of a long nap briefly brushed against his thoughts. And that was it. A two week vacation, and now James was done. He could go home right now; the actual objective complete. He still wanted a burger though. ¡°Hey what can I get for you!¡± The balding guy¡¯s voice made James jump as it came out of nowhere, and he realized he¡¯d spaced out for a few minutes. Larry, his name tag read. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Oh! Uh, you know what? Surprise me. A burger of some kind, whatever¡¯s good. No pickles.¡± James said. The dude eyed him with a kind of ¡®really, man?¡¯ Sort of look for a second, before shrugging and scribbling something on his order pad. ¡°Also, hey, what¡¯s uh¡­ this?¡± James jutted a thumb toward the production crew. ¡°Not here with em?¡± Larry asked. ¡°They¡¯re filming some Food Network thing.¡± ¡°Oh yeah? Is Guy Fieri here?¡± James asked, perking up. ¡°Different show.¡± Larry shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s a vacation thing. They said they were doing B-sides today?¡± ¡°B-Roll.¡± James autocorrected. And then, ¡°Dang.¡± He clicked his tongue in disappointment. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re having fun, huh?¡± Larry just gave an exhausted ¡®eh¡¯. ¡°It¡¯s busy, they¡¯re in the way, and my boss sucks. Also I don¡¯t have time to talk. I¡¯ll bring the food out when it¡¯s done.¡± And that was that, the man vanishing as stealthily as he¡¯d arrived, with that kind of rapid movement overworked food service staff had been mastering since the dawn of time. James was going to just settle back and wait, watching the unfolding activity around him, but one of the other customers had other ideas. ¡°New in town?¡± The older man asked him from a couple tables over with a strong voice. His words cut over other small conversations, and James spotted a couple other diners turning to look at him as the guy who looked a lot like a kindly old uncle right down to the facial hair greeted him. ¡°Yup!¡± He answered back with a smile, before realizing the other man wasn¡¯t *really* smiling at all, despite the warmth in his words. ¡°James. Nice to meet ya.¡± ¡°Ah, another kid looking to get on TV, eh?¡± The man who didn¡¯t introduce himself said. Again, he *sounded* friendly enough, but James narrowed his eyes slightly at the disconnect between the cheerful words and the grin that didn¡¯t reach the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Nah, nah.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Honestly, a friend told me about this place, and I was in the area, so I figured I¡¯d drop in. No idea this all was going on today.¡± Technically, none of that was a lie. ¡°Oh yeah? What¡¯s your friend¡¯s name?¡± The man¡¯s words took a sudden hard turn, almost like a challenge. James blinked, then shook his head. This was a bizarrely hostile situation, and he didn¡¯t particularly feel like engaging with this dude. Especially not now that half the diner seemed to be listening in, whether they wanted to or not. ¡°They don¡¯t have a name yet.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know when they pick one.¡± He took refuge in technically true bullshit, this time of a more mystical nature. ¡°Another immigrant, huh?¡± The man snorted. Loudly. ¡°Figures.¡± James looked around at everyone else, genuinely wondering if he was being set up. But no one looked willing to get involved. Even the one girl on the camera crew who would meet his eyes just gave him an exhausted shrug. Was this dude just hanging around hassling people today? Internally, James wanted to just call the guy an asshole and disengage. In theory, he *knew* people like this existed, but he¡¯d spent almost every waking hour building a social structure that didn¡¯t *do* this, and so it was a little jarring to be back in the ¡®normal¡¯ world. So, despite what he wanted, James went for polite when he opened his mouth instead. ¡°Alright. You¡¯re being kind of a shithead.¡± Someone said, and James pursed his lips as he realized that had been him. Well, too late to disengage now. ¡°I¡¯m not really interested in your casual racism, so I¡¯m just gonna sit here and wait for my burger, okay?¡± ¡°Hey! Language! There are *children* present!¡± The man sounded indignant, but for the first time, had what looked like actual glee on his face as he jabbed verbally at James. ¡°Yes. You¡¯ve already introduced yourself.¡± James said. ¡°Look, it¡¯s been a long day. Even if everyone else in here is super racist, I doubt they actually want to hear you yelling. Please leave me alone.¡± That, it turned out, was exactly the wrong thing to say. James sighed as the man ramped up his verbal tirade, getting slightly louder as he just¡­ kept going. About a lot of stuff that James honestly did stop focusing on after the first sentence. He tuned the man out playing Sudoku on his phone, especially once he stopped actually yelling at James, and just started talking like he was monologuing for the camera. The cameras weren¡¯t on. James had caught the same camera girl¡¯s eye again, and they¡¯d shared another confused shrug. The cameras absolutely weren¡¯t rolling. It was kind of hilarious, honestly. At a certain point, the owner came out of the kitchen with someone who looked like a producer, and got the yelling guy to settle down. James got the distinct impression they were friends, but that Yells was just kind of a known factor locally. The kind of guy who actually voiced a lot of buried disdain and hate out loud instead of just scowling at people. James was still waiting for his food, and in the absence of the ability to do more on his phone than make spotty calls and play puzzle games, started talking to the lurking production crew. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re waiting for the lights to go up. Hanging this stuff is actually kind of a process, and it sometimes takes too long.¡± The girl setting up stationary cameras out of walking lines had told him. ¡°It¡¯s a pain in the dick, and I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not doing it. Better than lifting it ourselves though.¡± James absolutely believed she¡¯d done that before; her arms looked more toned than his, and he had literal magic to help him exercise. ¡°Also the building is a billion years old and we have a bet on if it collapses.¡± Her teammate and or unpaid intern added. ¡°I bet no, because that would be exciting.¡± ¡°I bet yes, because I love tempting fate.¡± The girl said, before running off at a producer¡¯s call to adjust a camera angle. James just watched it all with a small smile. The whole thing had this mix of organized chaos and professional madness. Like everyone knew what they were doing and had a casual disregard for timetables and the laws of physics. It felt really familiar. ¡°So hey, what¡¯re you doing here anyway?¡± The intern asked James while they leaned against a back wall by the splintered doors to the bathrooms, James having long ago resigned to waiting well over an hour for his food. ¡°Like, are you here on work or something? You don¡¯t match the tourist profile.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m a utopia wizard.¡± James said. ¡°I do shit with magic to build a better world.¡± He even managed to say it with a straight face. The kid - who was probably the same age as James - looked at him with an uninterested glance. ¡°You can just say you don¡¯t-¡° The thing, suddenly, that crystallized the scene for James into something *truly* familiar was the feeling of imminent disaster. A feeling that bloomed with a hot rush of panic in his chest as a loud *crack* rang through the building from where their contractor had just put a little too much weight on a ceiling that had probably been unsafe since it was built. *Now*, he thought as the ceiling bowed downward and the squealing of overstressed metal took over the soundscape from the cracking of wood, he really felt welcome here. There was no time to think. There was only time to react. And James had gotten very, *very* good at reacting. One step, then another up onto an occupied bench, shoving himself up with all the extra motion his purple orbs offered to tumble over the back of the seat and across a mat of cables across the middle of the floor. From inside James mind, an engine kicked to life, and three orange lines lit up his conceptual vision, pointing to three different people. And from one particular skill orbs, he *knew* what was about to happen. As the ceiling buckled overhead, and chunks of debris started to fall, James grabbed a plate off the floor with his left hand, trusted to his Aim, and backhand flung it behind him. Then he toggled his shield bracer to ¡®falling building¡¯, which he was *alarmed* to find was in the record already. And as he kicked forward and reached the collapsed ladder where the contractor had fallen and a pair of the TV crew were checking on him, he reached into another part of his soul and spun up the psychic mechanism that let him move roads, pairing it again with Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel to make sure he did this *right*. From an outside perspective, everything happened at once. There was a crack, and a thud as the contractor fell off the ladder. Then, while the crowd was still making curious and concerned nosies, the building had shifted, the ceiling bowing inward as something gave way that really shouldn¡¯t have. Then James had flung himself at high speed up to where the contractor had fallen, just before the ceiling collapsed in a spray of dust and a falling support beam, half the roof coming down on top of it in a wave of unstable material. All of it eliciting a blazing golden dome of light around the spot it was collapsing on. As the building wobbled dangerously and the crowed started screaming, though, what looked like the entire parking lot had lanced through the far wall with a shattering of glass and the scream of warping metal, support pylons of black asphalt establishing themselves in rapid succession, propping up the building that looked like suddenly a stiff breeze might threaten to knock it over. Practically no one noticed the plate, thrown like a frisbee, that shattered as it collided with a broken piece of falling pipe, sending shards of porcelain down to get stuck in a certain angry asshole¡¯s sideburns, but deflecting the more dangerous and far sharper problem just enough that he didn¡¯t get himself impaled. Around James, multiple people coughed, choking on dust that was almost certainly full of asbestos, while he held his arm outstretched, shield charges ticking down steadily as he held the support beam and half the roof off the few people around him. ¡°Out!¡± He pointed with his other hand at the still partially clear way to the front door. The pile of failing construction overhead shifted slightly, and he tried to shift in a way so as to make it fall *away* from them. The producer scampered, suit jacket catching on a splintered bit of wood and shredding with a dry rip as he pulled his way out. The camera girl, though, stopped and slung an arm under the contractor, dragging the man¡¯s bulk with her as she moved. James checked his charges. Ten, and counting down. This was one of the Status Quo bracers, too, the ones that were crafted by blood sacrifice and cursed with shitty recharge timers. He didn¡¯t have time to screw around, so as soon as they were clear, he followed, letting the collapsed support beam slide off the edge of his shield, taking two more charges with it as a chunk of a falling light fixture and another part of the ceiling structure clipped him on the way out. The parking lot was madness. People who had run through the hole he¡¯d made in the wall, as well as members of the TV crew and staff who had been in the kitchen ran around yelling for various things. *Most* of the building was still standing, but the front right dining area was just a hole visible through the roof from the outside. James tried to keep his breathing steady as he wiped absolutely carcinogenic dust out of his eyes and brushed his arms off, suddenly wishing he¡¯d worn his coat. ¡°Shit.¡± The girl next to him said as she sat the contractor down, and James glanced over to see her pulling back, one hand covered in blood. ¡°F-fuck. Shit. Uh.. help!¡± She yelled, head whipping around and voice rising as a panicked stammer entered her words. ¡°Someone call 911!¡± ¡°County hospital is a half hour away.¡± James caught someone saying, realizing suddenly that he *couldn¡¯t* hear any sirens on the way. James reached into his pocket and pulled out a mercifully intact phone. Punched in four digits from memory. One ring, and someone answered. ¡°Response.¡± The young man¡¯s steady voice met him. ¡°Marcus.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s James. I have someone injured here.¡± He rattled off an address. And then, realizing at least two people were staring at him, and what was about to happen, added; ¡°The team is coming into a crowd, they¡¯re filming some cooking channel show. Tell Harvey¡­ something.¡± There wasn¡¯t even hesitation. ¡°Help is on the way.¡± Marcus said. ¡°Arriving in thirty.¡± There was a pause on the line, before Marcus asked, ¡°Is it Guy Fieri?¡± ¡°It is not Guy Fieri, I asked.¡± James reassured him, voice still thin from the adrenaline flooding his limbs. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta go. Thanks Marcus.¡± He said as he hung up, fumbling the phone back into a pocket. From twenty feet to James¡¯ left, three people snapped into existence. Someone screamed, but he wasn¡¯t paying attention. As Nikhail ran toward them and James indicated the fallen contractor, something green and flexible spiraling off his arm, James called out to the other two. ¡°Ann! Triage! Sort this mess out! Knife! With me, we need to check the building!¡± ¡°Yes boss!¡± Ann nodded, before turning, taking a deep breath, and beginning to shout simple commands to the crowd with an arcanely enhanced voice. There were still a handful of people in the front of the building, those who were clustered at the tables, and had been blocked in by half the ceiling cutting off the door. ¡°Everyone okay?¡± James called out, and got a half dozen different answers. Most of them were confused, many of them were people swearing at him, and at least one was a young kid screaming. ¡°Alright. Knife, can you lock this in place?¡± James rapped his knuckles on the collapsed support beam. ¡°Done.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°Okay, everyone, let¡¯s get you out of here. If anyone¡¯s hurt, stay put. Everyone else, there¡¯s a gap here you can crawl under. It¡¯s not gonna fall, let¡¯s go.¡± One by one, James coaxed the diners out of the place, begging the building to hold itself together for as long as it took. A couple people didn¡¯t want to move, or felt like they couldn¡¯t move. He understood; not every day you had architecture fall on your lunch. But he kept calling for them, until even the most stubborn of them had gotten out. One of the parents of the crying child actually scrambled to leave first, and James was not oblivious to the death glare the other one was giving their partner as they pushed the kid forward. ¡°Good job buddy.¡± James offered a high five to the young human that couldn¡¯t be older than six. ¡°Wait right here, okay?¡± He added, reaching through the gap to offer a hand to the crawling parent. The front was clear. James didn¡¯t see a clear route to get into the kitchen, or the rest of the back, and didn¡¯t even know if this building had a basement, but he had a place to start at least. Slipping out, he nodded to Ann, ignored the questions people were yelling his way, and circled around the structure, Knife-In-Fangs trailing behind him. It didn¡¯t take long to find what he was looking for. The employee door in the back was just far enough to the side of the building that the roof caving in had crumpled the top of it, jamming it in place. ¡°Hold here.¡± James said, tapping the top, and Knife-In-Fangs echoed agreement with him. Then he stepped back, pulled on his asphalt control again, letting the last charge of that slip away, and harpooned the door. James didn¡¯t have any Velocity left to boost his fine control with, but he wasn¡¯t particularly concerned. This wasn¡¯t some hefty security door, this was just a lacquered wood barrier. Thick wood, sure. Front door thick. But James had been practicing, and he was getting a lot better at lancing things with chunks of road. Working as fast as he could, he extended hooks from his asphalt spike and tore the door out of its position, the structure around it frozen by the camraconda¡¯s intervention. ¡°Come on!¡± He called to the employees and TV crew that were cowered inside, about half of them - the smarter half in his estimation - crouched under the heavy metal food prep tables. ¡°Let¡¯s go! Can¡¯t hold this up forever!¡± ¡°My goddamn door!¡± An older man, presumably the owner, yelled. It was a hollow protest. He stormed out with everyone else, and while the others got clear of the building, retreating to sit on curbs or the hoods of cars, the owner looked around like he was trying to find the machine responsible for breaking his kitchen door. ¡°Sir, please step back.¡± Knife-In-Fangs instructed, drawing a jolt of motion from the chef as he turned to stare at the camraconda. ¡°What the hell-¡° The man stepped up to the serpent, blocking his line of sight, and behind him the building shifted, crumbling a little more into the gap James had made. James grabbed the older guy by an arm that was practically indistinguishable from a grizzly bear, and yanked him forward as a few chunks of roofing tile cascaded down and broke on the ground. ¡°Go sit with the others.¡± James pointed. He tried to remember, and put into action, a dozen different things he knew he needed to do. An authoritative voice during a disaster, clear instructions, and people would listen. Get them clear. Don¡¯t go back in, things might explode. What things? Any things, somethings. Just keep clear. His head started to hurt, and probably not from inhaling the dust of a collapsing building constructed in the 30s - he was wearing a mask after all. But there were just too many things to keep track of, and this *wasn¡¯t his specialty*. It was also catching up to him, as he looped back to the front of the building to find two more Response members, Ann holding a man in a headlock, and Nikhail missing, that he *may* have just done something slightly more out in the open than maybe they¡¯d been doing up to this point. One problem at a time. James pulled his mask off and took a breath of air that smelled like sawdust and french fries. ¡°Thanks for the assist.¡± He muttered to the cartomorph who had gone back to napping, as he found a clear spot and slumped down to a seated position, legs vibrating. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± A hoarse voice called James¡¯ attention upward. He glanced up, popping a joint in his neck as he did so, to see the camera guy from earlier. ¡®Earlier¡¯, hell, five minutes ago. Tops. ¡°Which part?¡± James asked. ¡°You¡­ the whole¡­ the building fell down!¡± ¡°Yeah, I blame you for that. Or¡­ uh¡­ the other girl. Look, whoever bet that the ceiling wouldn¡¯t hold the lighting rail. It¡¯s their fault. You tempted fate. Poor choice.¡± James¡¯ heard his own words like a rushing in his ears, and tried to tip his head to make the noise stop. ¡°Ow. I feel like I got hit on the head.¡± He muttered, rubbing just under his ear. The cameraman just stared at him. ¡°You said you were a wizard.¡± He coughed, spitting out a wad of dusty phlegm to the side of the parking lot. ¡°You were¡­¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, I wasn¡¯t kidding. Right, magic is real. Sorry. That¡¯s just something you¡¯ll have to live with.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Maybe don¡¯t tell everyone else around here just yet.¡± ¡°Oh god, is this¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a secret, no one is¡­ none of *my people* are going to kill you,¡± James hated having to make that distinction, ¡°and you¡¯re fine talking to me. I just mean that¡­ look, I think one of your editors tried to attack my medic, and Ann has him in an arm bar. And I expect that¡¯s probably the most reasonable reaction anyone would give.¡± He waved idly to the crowd of people in the parking lot, half of them sitting and staring at the building like they didn¡¯t understand what just happened, half of them making calls, half of them yelling or arguing, often with each other. ¡°Oh hey, I hear a siren! Wonder who shows up first?¡± He looked out behind them, to the expanse of road leading away from the town toward empty desert. James had seen roads in Route Horizon that looked less desolate. But from this slight hill the restaurant was on, he could pretty clearly see a set of lights from a state trooper car as it sped toward the town. He sighed and reached out a hand, the camera guy taking it by instinct and helping him to his feet. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°I gotta get going. You okay?¡± ¡°No!¡± The guy threw up his hands. ¡°No I am not okay! I¡¯m¡­ you can¡¯t just do that, dude! Magic is real? What? What the¡­¡± ¡°Alright, you¡¯re okay.¡± James patted him on the arm and moved to check in with Ann and the others who were handing out bottles of water to the crowd, and having conversations with clumps of diners. ¡°Ann. You¡­ uh¡­ good here?¡± He waved at the man she was still holding who was still trying to punch her. ¡°Fine.¡± Ann said. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Nik at the hospital?¡± ¡°Along with three injured and Mir, yeah.¡± She nodded. ¡°Everyone should be okay. Is that fire and rescue I hear?¡± ¡°Police.¡± James crushed her hopes. ¡°Might want to make ourselves scarce, keep this from getting out of hand. Everyone looks safe, though. And there¡¯s not much else we can do here.¡± Ann dropped the man, spinning away as he flailed on the ground. James offered him a sympathetic hand up, which he took suspiciously, while Ann turned away and barked a few simple commands to the other Response members. With rapid efficiency, the four remaining members of the Order wrapped up what they were doing, finished their conversations, circled up, and vanished as Ann tore a telepad. ¡°What¡­ no!¡± The man James had helped up clenched a fist, yelling at nothing as he tried to dust off his torn suit jacket. ¡°They kidnapped my cousin!¡± ¡°Oh, the contractor?¡± James asked him, getting an affirmative. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t worry about it. He is, most likely, at the closest hospital. Teleporters, yeah? Last thing I heard was that no one was in critical condition, and they have a *very* good medic.¡± He pulled out his phone. ¡°Did she ask for your contact info? Here, give me your number, we¡¯ll call you when we know more.¡± The sudden shift from being headlocked to being helped seemed to both put the man at ease, and confuse the hell out of him. James still got a number from him, but also a question. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± He asked. James just grinned, stepping back and waving as he got back in Sarah¡¯s car, and left the scene, passing a pair of state troopers as their own cars pulled into the crowded parking lot. He felt kind of bad for not giving an answer. But to be fair, he was still working on that himself. He also felt bad, hitting the main road again and finding the fastest highway north, that he had gone through all that trouble just to not get lunch. Though there was a pretty hefty level of self-satisfaction at his own actions. Building better systems was appealing and a great long term goal, but *this* had been adrenaline pumping, immedient, and also very important to the lives of several people. So he was giggling madly to himself as he drove, that same adrenaline slowly wearing off. He would have felt worse about the whole thing, probably, if he¡¯d noticed that the camera crew had gotten an almost perfect shot of three humans and a camraconda teleporting out. Chapter 180 ¡°When I am weaker than you, I ask for freedom because that is according to your principles; when I am stronger than you, I take away your freedom because that is according to my principles.¡± - Frank Herbert, Children of Dune - _____ The Lair welcomed James back in the way that was becoming traditional for the Order; with basically no fanfare. He appreciated that a *lot*, the lack of pressure from any special measures making the experience of parking Sarah¡¯s car next to the suspiciously smooth parking space that had once housed his own car before it became exploded both welcoming and easy. He waved to the camraconda on the roof, got buzzed in through the security door and stepped past the row of lockers into the Lair¡¯s communal area. ¡°Jaaaaaaaaames!¡± Sarah greeted him by flinging herself from a chair and flopping against his unprepared flank like he was a forgotten lover. ¡°We missssed yooooou!¡± She drawled. ¡°Okay ow.¡± James gently exfiltrated his arm from her grip, shifting his feet so his friend wasn¡¯t threatening to topple him over. ¡°Also hey. It¡¯s good to be back.¡± He glanced up and gave a friendly smile to the other members of the support group that were watching him from the table Sarah had just abandoned. Looking around, James spotted a dozen other people rushing around. A few people wrestling a hand cart into the elevator, moving a truck¡¯s worth of lumber. A camraconda and a human hanging out while their Authorities interacted. A response team on break. Just a lot of life and motion. ¡°How were things while I was gone?¡± ¡°Oh, it was harrowing!¡± Sarah said, and James would have worried if she wasn¡¯t obviously being overly dramatic on purpose. ¡°I was so worried for you! So many things that could have gone wrong! *Weeks* of sleepless nights-!¡± ¡°Okay that one can¡¯t possibly be true.¡± ¡°-all as I waited for your faithful return! Preying you would be unscathed!¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been hanging out with the theater kids, haven¡¯t you?¡± James accused her with a lopsided grin. ¡°I *was* a theater kid.¡± Sarah¡¯s voice swung instantly back to her normal speaking tone, and not whatever performance she was putting on. ¡°Anyway, did you get back safe? Nothing went wrong on the road? No¡­¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°Oh my god your car is *fine*.¡± He said. ¡°James, your track record with cars is very bad.¡± Sarah told him bluntly. ¡°Your last car got eaten by a whole city¡¯s road network. And before that, your car got turned into modern art.¡± ¡°Neither of those were my fault!¡± James defended himself. ¡°But also, thank you for your concern. The whole trip was a nice vacation, honestly. The cartomorph chose to stick around, so that¡¯s cool. Saved some people from a collapsing building. Evaded police questions. Also fun.¡± James shrugged. ¡°How was it up here?¡± Sarah looked like she had a million different answers to that. Instead of giving any of them, she just asked ¡°What¡¯s the lil¡¯ map¡¯s name?¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°I haven¡¯t asked. They¡¯re sleeping.¡± He said. ¡°I think they overtaxed themself helping me with the collapsing building thing. Also, are you in the middle of something? Am I interrupting?¡± He glanced over her shoulder at where the half dozen members of the support group were waiting patiently at their table. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m interrupting.¡± ¡°Yeeeeah, kinda.¡± Sarah admitted. ¡°We can catch up later!¡± She told him. ¡°Are you doing that thing where you schedule a million different things to do, and realize at the end of the day that you had fun, but are fundamentally exhausted on a deep spiritual level, and shouldn¡¯t have done that?¡± James asked flatly. Sarah¡¯s face lit up. ¡°You remember! That¡¯s great!¡± ¡°Sarah.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± She shooed him away. ¡°Anyway, I have emotional bonding and acceptance of personal changes to do with some people. Go, go. I¡¯m sure Anesh wants to talk to you.¡± He shuffled back as Sarah lightly flailed her hands in his direction. ¡°And where-¡° James¡¯ words were cut off by the soft rapid taps of footsteps across the floor, and the less soft yelling of his boyfriend. ¡°Jaaaaaaaames!¡± Anesh¡¯s english accent really came across a lot stronger when he was dragging words out. ¡°I misssssed yooooou!¡± His partner slammed into his side, James wobbling and trying to return the sudden hug, while Sarah just broke into a cackling laugh. ¡°I texted him as soon as you came in.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Alanna wasn¡¯t available right now, so expect that again later!¡± She said. ¡°Anyway, you two have fun, I got a thing.¡± She waved as she turned and cut back across the front lobby to the quiet side area where her support group were meeting, settling back into her role of guide to the people who had been unwillingly changed by the Office. ¡°Hey.¡± James said, smiling down at Anesh. ¡°Hey.¡± Anesh said, voice dropping back to his normal tone as he rose up and stole a kiss from James. ¡°Ack! You need to shave.¡± He complained. James rubbed at his face. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy!¡± He defended himself, wincing as he realized how long he¡¯d let his facial hair get. ¡°Anyway. I am actually very hungry, do you wanna get lunch? Are you busy? Is lunch still something we do here? Karen didn¡¯t start austerity measures while I was gone, did she?¡± ¡°Yes, no, yes, and no.¡± Anesh answered, ticking off responses on his fingers in order. ¡°Come on. We can get Nate to make you a consolation burger.¡± He glanced back at James as he led the way down the hall to the dining area, past a pair of teenagers doing homework on the couch that occupied space that didn¡¯t exist, and into a room full of comfortable chatter and the smell of food. ¡°Yeah, I never actually got my burger.¡± James said. ¡°I mean, I had a burger on the way home. So I did. But like, it feels weird to have taken a trip to a restaurant that was supposedly a good enough secret burger place that knowledge of its presence was worth a dungeon loot reward, and *not* gotten a burger.¡± Anesh nodded as he grabbed them a table, replacing one of the camraconda chairs with a human one from another table so he had a place to sit. ¡°You could have stuck around? But I know why you didn¡¯t. Police attention isn¡¯t really what we need right now. Apparently, the statement the troopers made about the whole thing included that they were ¡®concerned¡¯ about ¡®unreliable vigilantism¡¯, so that¡¯s a thing.¡± Anesh sighed as he slid into the seat across from James. ¡°Not a huge mention, and the hospital didn¡¯t say anything about us *teleporting into their lobby*, so that¡¯s cool.¡± ¡°Are you sure about that? I feel like someone would have noticed.¡± ¡°It¡¯s hard to get camera phone footage of someone teleporting in when we don¡¯t announce it.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Also Harvey probably has a more comprehensive report on the whole thing. He¡¯s weirdly well organized for¡­ uh¡­ us?¡± ¡°We can be organized!¡± James protested. ¡°I¡¯m not organized. But I¡¯m also not in charge.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Partially because I¡¯m not organized. Also that police statement? I hate that.¡± Anesh quirked his eyebrows up. ¡°Why?¡± He asked. ¡°I mean, aside from the obvious.¡± ¡°Oh, Arizona does this thing where they use terms like ¡®unlicensed¡¯ as dogwhistles to talk about immigrants.¡± James said. ¡°Someone pointed it out to me a few months ago, and now I can¡¯t stop seeing it, and now I¡¯m passing this joy on to you.¡± ¡°Great.¡± Anesh grimaced. ¡°Well, aside from that, how was the drive back?¡± He asked. ¡°Kinda cool. I found this old abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. And the sky in the whole southwest region looks kind of amazing when you¡¯re driving on the highways there. So it was relaxing!¡± ¡°Even the part where you explored an abandoned farmhouse?¡± Anesh asked dryly. ¡°You don¡¯t know I explored it.¡± James crossed his arms and kept a straight face. For about ten seconds. ¡°Okay fine I explored it.¡± He leaned forward on the table. ¡°I will not lie, I was hoping to find a dungeon, because I have been conditioned to be finding dungeons everywhere. But instead I just found opossums.¡± He shook his head forlornly. ¡°If only I had found opossum dungeon, we could have saved the world. Anyway! What¡¯s been going on here while I¡¯ve been gone, that *isn¡¯t* the big emergency things people report to me about?¡± A thought crossed his mind, and he held up a hand to forstall the answer. ¡°Actually, hang on. Shouldn¡¯t we order first? How are we doing food these days?¡± James looked around, and noticed there were a couple members of the Order acting as servers today, but no one coming to their table. ¡°I let Nate know when Sarah texted me, so I technically ordered for you.¡± Anesh said, awkwardly looking away as James made a small ¡®aww¡¯ noise with his hand over his heart. ¡°Anyway!¡± He moved on. ¡°Uh¡­ where to even start. Have you kept up on Sarah¡¯s podcast?¡± ¡°I have not, since I don¡¯t listen to it on my phone and don¡¯t understand technology.¡± James said. ¡°I was gonna¡­¡± He looked around, eyes searching for someone in particular, and dropped his voice to a murmur as he leaned in close to Anesh. ¡°I was gonna get one of the memory files from someone.¡± He admitted. ¡°I¡¯ll hook you up with a supplier.¡± Anesh stage whispered back. ¡°Anyway, I can give you the Cliff¡¯s notes of what¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°Cliff notes.¡± ¡°I promise you it¡¯s Cliff¡¯s.¡± Anesh said. ¡°They are notes, from Cliff.¡± ¡°There is no way that¡¯s¡­ you know what, this isn¡¯t important. Give me the rundown.¡± James said. So Anesh started talking. And it turned out, there was kind of a lot to fill James in on. The biggest news, from Anesh¡¯s perspective at least, was they¡¯d gotten a little more research done on the copier ritual. First through using storage items like the wallet of folding or the lunchbox of holding lunch. And, twice, a test with the smallest, safest, most stable orange totem that Reed¡¯s team could build. James was a bit annoyed they risked blowing up the device that could spawn cures for cancer, but then, he already kind of knew that it wasn¡¯t ever going to be enough to execute a systemic, planet wide change in humanity. As it turned out, it still wasn¡¯t. The ritual copied what was put into the small, 10¡±x10¡±x8¡± block of space over the overhead projector. And it did so allllllmost perfectly. It even copied magic. But, as it turned out, it could only ever copy a single one of what Research was calling ¡°layers¡± of magic. A lunchbox packed with eight hundred pounds of food would copy eight hundred pounds of food. An orange totem folded space that you put the lunchbox in would copy the lunchbox. And enough food to fill one lunchbox. Trying to mass copy orbs didn¡¯t work. The storage device would copy fine, but the orbs just wouldn¡¯t appear. Neither would most dungeon rewards that they could find. Magic items would ally over but only with the ¡®item¡¯ part. Dungeon rewards copied, with *one* exception; the [Endurance II] book that they¡¯d brought out of Winter¡¯s Climb. ¡°So what¡¯s up with the bracers?¡± James asked around a mouthful of the sandwich Nate had brought him. It was a chicken burger, which was delicious, but he wasn¡¯t sure counted as a ¡®burger¡¯ exactly. Nate had told him it was healthier, and then said he had to go ¡®do something more important¡¯ and stalked off. ¡°Or, actually, all the Status Quo gear?¡± James asked. ¡°It all copies weird.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Anesh said, holding up his index finger like James had just asked the million dollar question. ¡°Well, if it holds to the same rule¡­ it¡¯s because the ones we looted from them are different. Modified. Which means¡­ well, I don¡¯t want to make assumptions¡­¡± ¡°I do!¡± James got an excited look in his eye. ¡°I love making wild ass guesses! And this time, I can do it kind of smart. Okay, so, only one iteration of magic copies? And the SQ items were being spawned by those blood ritual things that we demolished and dropped a building on. So, yeah, Status Quo found magic items in one dungeon, then fed them into a copy ritual sort of like what ours is. Maybe the blood thing makes them ¡®stronger¡¯ or something? Doens¡¯t matter. Either way, they get copies of magic items, with their own enchantment on top. Then *we* try to copy them, and just the initial magic item, no blood stuff.¡± ¡°Blood stuff sounds like the name of a punk band.¡± Anesh interjected. ¡°Yes.¡± James nodded. ¡°And¡­ actually, that¡¯s it. That¡¯s my dumb idea.¡± ¡°That¡¯s actually kind of everyone¡¯s dumb idea.¡± Anesh said. ¡°As far as we can figure out, anyway. There aren¡¯t many people left to ask. And their files are woefully incomplete.¡± ¡°Cool. Okay, well, that changes a few things. We can mass copy natural resources, right?¡± ¡°Sort of.¡± Anesh wobbled a hand. ¡°Easier than before, anyway.¡± ¡°Awesome. Okay, what else?¡± James asked. And his boyfriend took a deep breath while he took another bite of his lunch. There was a wasp-crow in their basement. Deb was pretty sure the girl was going to live, but she was damaged beyond what a human could take. Alanna apparently felt some kind of responsibility for the creature from the Akashic Sewer, and was checking up on her every day. Speaking of Sewer creatures, Arrush was mostly healed. He and Keeka had headed back to Tennessee, mostly. They were dropping in twice a week for a social studies and ethics class, mostly with a bunch of camracondas, but also some of the high school students. They had a lot of Earth¡¯s history to catch up on. The Sewer news continued. Despite being scattered to completely different places in their professional and personal lives, the five people who had taken copies of the drama lesson had finally managed to rank it up together again, collectively adding Poise I to their abilities, but that would probably be as far as the larger group could get alone. Two of the camracondas with lessons had improved theirs as well, Frequency-Of-Sunlight diving into learning history with a kind of optimistic glee, and ending up with Solidity I and Malleability II, and Texture-Of-Barkdust apparently taking private lessons from Karen while she recovered from something flu-adjacent, ending up with Perspective I. Into this kind of standard report on how everyone¡¯s personal learning was going, Anesh tried to casually slip the fact that a few people in Research, one of himself included, were *pretty sure* they had figured out the math on building a space elevator with a handful of dungeontech objects. James didn¡¯t let that one go uninterrogated, and pretty quickly regretted his choice, as Anesh started going into exacting mathematical detail on how multiple iterations of the the paperweight that ignored all force from a single vector could be chained together to create a self-lifting scalable machine. It got worse when another Anesh joined them, doubling the speed of the explanation after giving James a familiar kiss and an equally familiar notice that he needed to shave. ¡°Okay! I surrender!¡± James admitted, throwing his hands in the air. ¡°Is there anything at all else that can get me out of this?¡± ¡°The Authorities are doing well?¡± One Anesh suggested, the two of them sharing a perfect timed curious glance before the other continued. ¡°Yeah, so far, all the ones on Response are thriving. We don¡¯t really have a way to measure ¡®abstract magical power¡¯, but they¡¯re growing up smoothly. All of them are medics, by the way.¡± He nodded and his double took over. ¡°The camracondas mostly turned down getting their own at first. Only the ones working with the Order in other capacities took the offers. There was a small public debate about species over the whole thing. Very awkward! Ultimately, I think the nascent culture of the camracondas, as a people, kind of pushes them to not take tools they aren¡¯t using? But also Spire-Cast-Behind had a really good point that those who aren¡¯t engaged with the Order *have* no structure for the Authorities to work with. So we¡¯re looking for other ways to make sure our non-human residents are treated equitably and welcome.¡± ¡°I really want to just say that species doesn¡¯t matter.¡± James admitted. ¡°But that¡¯s a lie; it *does* matter. I have a thousand small perks from being human, and ignoring that just dismisses the fact that the camracondas need the scales balanced. And it¡¯s *annoying* that a lot of them won¡¯t admit it because they have some weird fixation on ¡®not being literal puppet soliders¡¯ somehow being good enough.¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s not great.¡± Anesh said. ¡°On the upside, we¡¯re learning that Authorities seem to like manifesting physical forms as articles of clothing. And the camraconda ones are kind of cute.¡± ¡°What are the human ones?¡± ¡°I mean, you¡¯ve seen Nik¡¯s glove. I suspect all the Status Quo ones were ties. Because they were aggressively mundane.¡± ¡°Cowards.¡± James scoffed. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s how that¡¯s going.¡± Anesh said while one of him chuckled. James gnawed at his lip, nodding but not exactly happy with the total outcome. The nature of the Authorities just made it messy. ¡°I heard that Frequency tried to open a bank account?¡± He asked. ¡°Uh¡­ yeah.¡± Anesh both looked sheepish. ¡°And was asked for things like a birth certificate, and social security number.¡± Both of him rubbed at his nose in unison. ¡°And it turns out, Sunny is¡­ uh¡­ a motivated problem solver? So she started trying to get those. Long story short, the US government¡¯s official bureaucratic hellscape stance so far is that you can¡¯t have them if you weren¡¯t born here, and aren¡¯t human.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not surprised, I¡¯m just disappointed.¡± James said. ¡°Well, the issue might be revisited soon, if things keep going the way they are.¡± Both Anesh shrugged together. ¡°One county clerk rejecting something is bad. But it won¡¯t hold up as we get more attention, and people in elected offices have to come up with real answers. In the meantime¡­ I mean, they found a dumb workaround.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Well, you can use another bank account, and state ID, to get a bank account. And you can use a bank account to get state ID. So they just added Frequency to Deb¡¯s account, and are trying to use it to get her her own account. Which I¡¯m pretty sure was super illegal. Oh, and the bank has problems with her name.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± James sighed. ¡°Is there anything else that¡¯s less depressing?¡± ¡°The orange totem study is coming along. I think they have four or five different *useful* models that they can replicate consistently. Oh! Bill has made several polite requests for you and Arrush to, and I¡¯m quoting here; ¡®get off your asses and help him absolutely fuck the HVAC industry¡¯.¡± Anesh made air quotes around the words. ¡°There was more to the request, but it was very rude to the HVAC industry. Would you like to hear it?¡± James nodded. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± He said with a smile. Anesh continued his recap while James ate and the room around them moved. A Response team made a sudden exit, a group of students stole their table to study, there was a brief moment of knowing the total lifespan of every cephalopod in the building which James assumed was Momo¡¯s fault somehow, and a few people stopped by to welcome him back or ask him or Anesh questions. It was kind of hectic and also kind of peaceful; stuff happening at its own speed, with nothing really *needed* of him. Momo¡¯s growing Ritual department had taken over study of the shaper substance from an overworked Deb. There was a plan to hire more people, including medical staff, but it had been put on hold until the Lair could be expanded, or they could get another building somewhere, and also Karen had apparently glared at someone who had asked for an expanded budget so hard that the unfortunate delver had melted. That last part might have been a wild rumor though. The delve team for Officium Mundi had recovered a magical *espresso machine*, which was truly powerful, and apparently made coffee that made you faster but didn¡¯t improve reflexes at all. Blended drinks were being tested. Also, they¡¯d finally gotten the ritual from another tower to work; it sent objects as attachments. To an email, a phone number, whatever. The recipient had to consciously accept the incoming object, but once they did, it just...was there. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. James felt like that would have been world-shatteringly huge if they weren¡¯t already using all the magic coffee to copy teleporters and cancer cures. ¡°I can¡¯t even think of anything else. Uh¡­ I got a skill rank in katanas?¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°I probably won¡¯t ever use it. I don¡¯t know why *I* keep getting all the sword skills.¡± ¡°I am so envious of your sword skills.¡± James grumbled good naturedly. ¡°You know what weapon art I got from Officium Mundi? Backpacks.¡± He leaned back, folding his arms as he glowered across the remains of his sandwich at Anesh. ¡°Ask me about backpack combat. Go on.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Anesh paused. ¡°I *want to*, but mostly I¡¯m just kind of curious how that hasn¡¯t come up yet. You wear a backpack on practically every dungeon delve we do. Out here on Earth you wear a backpack all the time! You use it to hump stuff to the coffee shop whenever we go out for late night caffeination! How has this not come up? I would have expected, you know, narratively, that you would have at least had someone try to mug you by now.¡± James gave a muffled snort. ¡°You are vastly misjudging how little crime this city has. Also, yeah, basically. You¡¯d think this would have saved my life at least once by now. I¡¯ve practically been setting it up for months. But nothing! Not even on the mountain!¡± He tossed a hand into the air, fingers making a bursting motion. ¡°Nothing! At least if I had a sword skill I could blame not using it on not owning a katana.¡± The two of them shared a laugh, before James sighed and moved to stand up. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯ve got a meeting to get to. Is there anything else on the level of ¡®going to space¡¯ or ¡®camraconda civil rights¡¯?¡± ¡°JP¡¯s been spending a week and a half staking out the potion replacement people.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I know. That¡¯s one thing I get security updates on.¡± James sighed. ¡°He¡¯s in¡­ Utah? Or Ohio? I can never remember. I know it¡¯s one of the four letter states. There¡¯s a finite number of those. And it¡¯s probably not Iowa. Is there a fourth one?¡± ¡°Guam.¡± ¡°Guam isn¡¯t a state.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t a¡­? What? No, of course it is.¡± Anesh said, giving James an annoyed look. ¡°It¡¯s a part of the US.¡± James made a guilty wince, and Anesh just sighed. ¡°Oh, this is gonna be one of those things, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll see you later! Thanks for lunch.¡± James leaned down and planted a peck on Anesh¡¯s nose, trying to divert from this line of questioning. ¡°Love you.¡± ¡°Love you too. And it¡¯s Utah.¡± Anesh said, standing up and following behind James as the two of them left the dining area. James moved steadily down the hallway, around the corner, and to the elevator bank, hitting the button and rolling back onto his heels to wait. He *could* have taken the stairs up to LA, but that was thirty floors of climbing he didn¡¯t feel like doing today, good exercise or no. It took him a couple bounces to realize that Anesh was still with him, just to his side and behind his field of view. ¡°We¡¯re going to the same meeting you knob.¡± He said by way of explanation. ¡°I¡­ knew that.¡± James lied. Anesh sighed as the elevator opened and they stepped on. ¡°You have magically enhanced memory explicitly to solve this problem.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James agreed with a nod as he hit the button for their upstairs, letting the polished silver doors of the elevator close with a crisp mechanical clunk. ¡°And I waste most of that thinking about trivia and jokes from podcasts.¡± He leaned into Anesh conspiratorially. ¡°Did you know that pangolin scales are materially the same thing as fingernails?¡± ¡°At *least* set a note on your phone or something for meetings.¡± Anesh begged his boyfriend. ¡°Share your calendar with me. I¡¯ll do it for you.¡± ¡°I already know when the meeting is, I just didn¡¯t know the guest list.¡± James rebutted cheerfully. ¡°Anyway.¡± He gave a small bow as the elevator dinged open, waving Anesh forward like he was some kind of courtly steward before following. The upstairs office was currently experiencing a much warmer afternoon than the building they¡¯d come from. The temperature wasn¡¯t that much different in the end, but the shift from a naturally slightly chilly commercial space to an air conditioned floor with a muggy heat holding the outside in its grip was kind of amusing to James. He walked in confidently, giving a high five to Ferndinan, the one potted plant they¡¯d managed to befriend from the Office. ¡°Looking green, friend!¡± James greeted the unspeaking life form. It had grown an extra foot of vine, most of it starting to wrap around the vending machine placed nearby. James also gave the vending machine a polite nod, and bought something with a spare dollar in his wallet to drink during the meeting. He purposefully did not look at the label, choosing to embrace the element of surprise. The conference room was already half full, and James suppressed the impulse to run at the sight of the meeting space. Partially because he¡¯d once nearly died fighting a misshapen giant secretary in one, and partially because meetings were often stressful. Priestess-Under-Stone was sitting at the end of the table near Karen, the two of them talking softly as Karen pointed out some stuff on a laptop screen. Watcher-Of-Motion was off in its own little space, and James had never actually seen a camraconda look like it *didn¡¯t* want to be somewhere, so it took him a minute to realize the serpent probably disliked meetings as much as he did himself. And Myles was pacing by the window, watching the city and looking like he also didn¡¯t really want to be here; or rather, that he had somewhere he was itching to get back to. There was one other person close to where James and Anesh walked in, who turned and stood as they entered. ¡°Oh hey. Jake, right?¡± James shook hands with the lawyer. ¡°Good to see you again.¡± ¡°Mr. Lyle.¡± Jake Redding said, giving a charismatic smile and nodding as he returned the handshake. James was glad he didn¡¯t do the thing some people did where he tried to crush his opponent¡¯s hand, but he did have one objection. ¡°Just James. Not a fan of honorifics.¡± ¡°Ooooof course.¡± Jake said. ¡°Are we ready to begin?¡± He looked over to Karen, who was closing her laptop and looking around. ¡°Not quite.¡± She said. ¡°Harvey is going to join-¡° There was a snap of air and Harvey appeared at the end of the room, drawing startled jumps from a few people and a high yelp from Jake. ¡°Harvey is here. We can begin, yes.¡± It *looked* like Karen hadn¡¯t even blinked, but James hadn¡¯t missed that she¡¯d twitched her hand toward her side. He took a minute to reevaluate Karen. ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late.¡± Harvey said, brushing off imaginary dust from his sleeves as he took a seat and set a folder on the end of the long oblong table. ¡°Something came up.¡± It was impressive how someone saying that could be so ominous. James opened his mouth to ask, but Harvey covered the questions rapidly. ¡°There was a burst of activity for Response, and I was handling three field teams at once while we smoothed things out. Everything is fine, but we need more staff.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have the budget.¡± Karen said automatically. ¡°Okay, well then we need more budget.¡± Harvey said, voice touched with exhausted anger. ¡°Why *don¡¯t* we have more budget?¡± He asked. ¡°What¡¯s actually bottlenecking us here?¡± James looked around as what was a familiar back and forth started. Then he cut it off before it got too far. ¡°Hey, do we not have anyone from Research or Ritual for this meeting?¡± He asked. ¡°Momo was busy and Reed said they weren¡¯t needed for this one.¡± Anesh answered. ¡°Technically, I¡¯m our Researcher.¡± ¡°Okay. So, before you two keep going, can I cover the budget thing?¡± James asked, and both Karen and Harvey looked over to him with expectant eyes. ¡°Uh¡­ we can duplicate much larger chunks of matter now. Why not just make a huge quantity of something valuable, like platinum, or tungsten, and sell it?¡± ¡°Diamond, maybe?¡± Myles suggested from the other side of the table where he was still standing. ¡°I mean actual value, not artificially inflated fictional diamond value.¡± James said. ¡°Regardless, is there a downside to that at all?¡± He glanced at Jake. ¡°Actually, real question for the lawyer in the room. Is there a reason we shouldn¡¯t do that? Like, is it fraud to not be able to source your materials when you sell them?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not usually illegal, though a lot of places wouldn¡¯t buy from you.¡± Jake answered, having started researching this the instant anyone in the Order had said ¡®duplication¡¯ out loud near him. ¡°I¡¯m also not an economist, but depending on how much you¡¯re producing, you risk crashing the market, which also isn¡¯t a crime usually, but would be counterproductive.¡± ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be making that much.¡± Karen shook her head. ¡°Platinum especially would take multiple months to build up to a point where we were copying an appreciable amount, and there¡¯s enough demand for it that we wouldn¡¯t risk devaluing it below what¡¯s useful for us. Especially relative to gold, which is worth more, but has less of a sustained demand.¡± ¡°Great! Do that!¡± James clapped his hands. ¡°And then expand Response. Harvey, how many people actually work for you?¡± ¡°They work for *us*, for one thing. You are in charge here.¡± Harvey said. ¡°And also currently we have a hundred people working with Response in some capacity, forty full time knights. Eighteen of our responders are camracondas.¡± He shot a nod to Priestess-Under-Stone, who nodded back with a bobbing motion. ¡°A lot of those people are part time volunteers, which helps keep our costs manageable, but I am aware that we¡¯re going to run out of money.¡± He added. ¡°Also, we have sixteen Authorities on the roster now, though again, they¡¯re not actually being paid. Uh¡­ wow, I just said that out loud. We should be paying them.¡± Karen nodded. ¡°We are going to run out of money rapidly.¡± She said. ¡°Currently, we have just north of five hundred thousand dollars in the bank.¡± James¡¯ heart hammered in his ears at the mention of the absurd number, and his stomach dropped as Karen kept talking and reminded him how much that *wasn¡¯t*. ¡°That means three months of operation, at our current income. Though our income is sporadic.¡± ¡°Oh, I can help there.¡± Myles chimed in. ¡°I actually wanted to ask about this. Do we have a way to move cargo? I know we can teleport people, but how about pallets of heavy stuff? Do we have, like¡­ a teleporting forklift?¡± James turned to Anesh, a rictus of a smile cracking across his face. ¡°Oh no.¡± Anesh muttered. ¡°See?¡± James poked his boyfriend¡¯s arm. ¡°You *see*?! I knew it!¡± Jake looked around the room at the faces of the others, confusion on his own features. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± He asked. Folding her hands on the table, Karen translated. ¡°James means that he has a teleporting forklift, yes. Probably something insufferable and magic. Why do you bring it up, Myles?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ there were seven banks in Townton.¡± He said. ¡°And we¡¯ve gone through three of them so far. No one has actually figured out why, but all of them were over the reserve limit, so there¡¯s about two hundred fifty thousand in physical cash sitting down there. I didn¡¯t realize budget was an issue, JP never mentioned it.¡± ¡°He wouldn¡¯t.¡± Karen and James muttered at the same time, sharing a glance where James grinned and Karen just gave him a worried look. ¡°So you are aware,¡± Jake spoke up, ¡°that money only becomes legitimate salvage after one year of inaction on the part of the owners.¡± He sighed. ¡°Unless the banks have claimed act of god insurance on it already, in which case the insurance company would offer you a reward for recovery. *That said*... well, there isn¡¯t a legal precedent for inforvoric incidents¡­¡± ¡°*Good* term.¡± James chimed in. ¡°...so it¡¯s hard to say what is to be done here. If no one remembers the money exists, there will be no legal claim made on it. While the bank might be able to bring a civil suit against you, odds are good the money doesn¡¯t exist in their records anymore, and so, they simply wouldn¡¯t know to do it.¡± He sighed again, deeply. ¡°My legal advice is that you¡¯re in the clear. My *personal* advice¡­ well, I don¡¯t like dodging the law on technicalities.¡± Anesh nodded to him. ¡°We appreciate that. And if it were anyone else, we¡¯d work to return it. But no one here has much sympathy for the banks. That said, Myles, what are you doing with the safety deposit boxes?¡± ¡°Marking contents, trying to find living owners or next of kin.¡± Myles said. ¡°Or at least, we¡¯re referring it to Recovery.¡± ¡°Progress is being made.¡± Priestess-Under-Stone spoke up. ¡°We study, and seek, and find. Three in ten, perhaps, return to whom they belong.¡± James smiled quietly at the soft poetry of the camraconda¡¯s comment. ¡°Okay. Between that, and platinum sales - someone get some platinum? Karen? Yes, good - between those things, we should be able to start expanding safely.¡± James nodded. ¡°Harvey, what do you want for Response?¡± Harvey had prepared a report. Response hadn¡¯t been idle. In fact, they were starting to get really, really busy. Every day, they had between four and twelve teams on call at any given time. Teams ranged from two to four people, with a standby pool of individuals for simple medical transport or shoring up teams that sustained injuries. Some teams were specialized; there was, for example, always one team and at least one backup knight specialized in mental health crises in the rotation. Each team replied to between ten to fifty incidents. A day. ¡°Hang on.¡± James stood up, crossing his arms in an X in front of him. ¡°Wait, woah, wait, stop. What?¡± He looked around the table. ¡°I¡¯ve *done* Response shifts! When did it get that¡­ uh¡­ fast paced?¡± ¡°Recently.¡± Harvey said gruffly. The actual incidents responded to were only about a fifth of the calls received. They¡¯d hired more operators, and their phone network was arcanely enhanced enough to handle the throughput, but it was still a constant and stressful job. Currently, Response was known to and working with sixteen different fire departments, forty one hospitals, and several well placed members of the Coast Guard and Park¡¯s Service. People were starting to know the number to call for real help, right away. ¡°We haven¡¯t made national or global news.¡± Harvey told them. ¡°Yet. *Yet*. It¡¯s coming, and soon, I think. Things are accelerating and I think they¡¯re faster than we can manage unless we do something serious.¡± There was a massive logistical bottleneck that was going to be a problem soon, and it was telepad production. A while back, one of the camracondas had thrown math at James that had almost stuck with him, about how they could produce something like ten thousand teleports per copier run. At the time, that had seemed like basically an infinite number. But now, faced with Harvey¡¯s data on per capita ambulance needs for just the US, it was becoming clear that they¡¯d need more than they could ever reasonably make just to serve *California*. California had 2.7 million ambulance transports a year. That was 6.4 million teleports, though less if Response members were blipping out from the hospitals to their next pickups. That was still¡­ James ran some quick numbers in his head. ¡°We would need to do six hundred full telepad block copies a year.¡± He muttered. ¡°For California. *Just* for California. Just for California¡¯s *medical*. Holy shit.¡± One state would overtax their theoretical upper potential, and James had wanted to do this for the whole *world*. ¡°It gets worse.¡± Harvey said. ¡°But also better.¡± The better was that they fundamentally needed less personnel to manage emergency response duties. They weren¡¯t traffic enforcers or patrol officers, they showed up when there was trouble, and diffused or fixed the situation. That meant that they could do more with fewer people. Teleportation was logistical magic as well as actual magic, and it smoothed out a lot of their issues. The worse was that they were going to need either more teleportation, or an alternate way to run Response. ¡°The problem is scaling up. That was always where we were going to run into an issue.¡± Harvey told them. ¡°My hope had been that we¡¯d have new magic by now. But we don¡¯t, so we need options.¡± ¡°I have a suggestion?¡± Anesh said. ¡°Why not use the telepads for emergencies, and just have local Response teams that¡­ are local?¡± Jake answered that one, with the tone of someone who had dealt with this before. ¡°The police.¡± He said in a voice he probably meant to be neutral, but had some low anger to it. ¡°Community protection groups aren¡¯t a legal entity, and even when they are, the police do not respect them as a functional authority. Police will interfere, often violently, often arresting community safety members in the process, with any incidents in progress. Also they have no larger legal right to detain or arrest people, even with just cause, and so get no support from local or federal governments. Citizens arrests are a thing in some states, but require contact with local PDs, which can declare them void for any reason. And they don¡¯t like other people making arrests. So they find reasons.¡± ¡°I mean¡­¡± James didn¡¯t want to sound like a dick, but didn¡¯t see a way to avoid it here. ¡°The authority of government is just the persistent threat of violence. I don¡¯t think we should rely on that.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you want to form a new government?¡± Harvey asked. ¡°Yeah, one that does things better.¡± James bit out. ¡°Okay, so, let¡¯s put community defense on the list, but low down. Other options?¡± ¡°More bullshit magic.¡± Harvey said, ticking off a list on his fingers. ¡°Limiting our operating area. Or, alternately, pulling back to operate as the community peacekeeping organization just for our own territory as you build your arcology thing.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Which feels like giving up. But not that much, since we can just bring people who want to sign that social contract to live with us. Telepads fix the problem of borders, too.¡± ¡°That last one sounds¡­ ugh. Too slow?¡± James complained. ¡°I don¡¯t want us to get overwhelmed, and lose *all* credibility because of it, because that would cause more damage than it would solve, but I also don¡¯t like the idea of scaling down.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s your call.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Oh, absolutely not.¡± James said. Everyone stopped, and looked at him. ¡°No,¡± he restated, ¡°it is not my call. You all need to stop looking to me like I¡¯m in charge here. I really am not.¡± ¡°You are actually the de facto leader.¡± Jake slowly said into the quiet room. ¡°Yeah, even I think you¡¯re in charge, and I know how much that annoys you.¡± Anesh said from next to James. Even Watcher-Of-Motion, quiet up until now, spoke. ¡°You are our guide.¡± They said. ¡°You give direction.¡± James sighed. A week and a half away had given him some perspective, and it was about time he actually applied it. ¡°Okay, look.¡± He said. ¡°While I was gone, what did you all do?¡± The people in the room looked at each other. Except Anesh, who knew roughly what James was getting at already. He and Alanna had talked, while their partner was away. To each other, and to James, and together. And they had a pretty good idea of what James was going for. ¡°If we¡¯re getting personal,¡± Jake said, ¡°I filed articles of incorporation for a township in Tennessee on behalf of this organization. Also gave general legal advice in terms of insurance law.¡± ¡°Accounting, mostly.¡± Karen said. ¡°Some teaching.¡± James knew for a fact she was underselling that. Watcher-Of-Motion peered at James curiously. ¡°Learning of security protocols, application of safe practices.¡± ¡°Anesh? Myles? Myles, don¡¯t answer, you were robbing banks, we already went over this. Harvey, I know what you were doing too. Okay, here¡¯s what I¡¯m getting at. *You didn¡¯t need me for any of that.*¡± James leaned forward on the table. ¡°You actually do not need me in charge, to make decisions! You are already doing it!¡± ¡°It¡¯s important to have a person who *can* make executive decisions when there¡¯s a crisis.¡± Karen pointed out. ¡°Also, you are literally the founder of this company.¡± ¡°Order.¡± James corrected her. ¡°Alright, look. You like long term planning, right?¡± She nodded, suspicious of where he was going with this. ¡°Alright. Okay. So, what¡¯s our long term plan? Anyone?¡± ¡°Replacing the outdated and flawed police institution with something better.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Long term sustainable operations.¡± Karen answered at the same time. ¡°The survival of my people.¡± Priestess-Under-Stone said. ¡°The survival of all people.¡± Watcher-Of-Motion added. ¡°Saving the world in general?¡± Anesh asked. James pivoted to Myles, who looked like a deer in the headlights. ¡°Uh¡­ uh¡­ attack and dethrone god?¡± He took a shot in the dark. ¡°Correct, all of you. The long term goal of the order is to build a collaborative system of government that maximizes value to the people.¡± James started pacing as he spoke. ¡°Well, here¡¯s the question. What kind of government do you want? Because I¡¯m going to tell you right now, I don¡¯t want one with someone in charge. Not like this.¡± ¡°You have a better suggestion?¡± Harvey asked. ¡°Because I know you¡¯re optimistic, but just asking people to play nice and make collaborative choices isn¡¯t actually stable, even if it is hopeful and backed up by voodoo.¡± ¡°Yeah. Well, a starting point anyway.¡± James said. ¡°I want us to start moving toward a system of operations decision making based off expertise. I want us to have safeguards, yes; things like tolerance and compassion are ideals but they¡¯re also *contracts*. We agree to do good for each other and everyone else, but there needs to be actually checks in place to make sure no one is abusing a position or corrupting the system. But fundamentally, when there¡¯s decisions to be made, I want us to listen to the people best suited to make those decisions.¡± ¡°And what about decisions that don¡¯t have a ¡®best answer¡¯?¡± Their new semi-permanent lawyer asked. ¡°You¡¯re going to run into a lot of questions, especially when it comes to budgeting, about what¡¯s *better*, instead of what¡¯s *correct*, and sometimes there isn¡¯t a good way to tell.¡± ¡°Votes?¡± James asked with a rapid shrug. ¡°Democracy isn¡¯t useless. If it¡¯s just a matter of opinion on what we try before we have hard data, what¡¯s wrong with votes? If we run into stuff so nebulous that we can¡¯t make a correct call one way or the other, then it doesn¡¯t really make a huge difference which answer we try first. But also, look, I haven¡¯t thought this out all the way. I don¡¯t have a plan, I have an *idea*.¡± ¡°Dangerous.¡± Myles and Priestess-Under-Stone muttered at the same time, shooting worried looks at each other while Anesh leaned forward and tried to hide the laugh he was smothering behind his hand. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ a leader.¡± James said, ignoring the quip. ¡°I¡¯m bad at, or just not excited to do, most of the stuff a good leader does. I¡¯m not equipped, mentally or emotionally, to make these decisions that other members of the Order are *far* better at answering. If you want to know about dungeons? If you need a weird out of context problem solved? I will make decisions. But I¡¯m¡­ this isn¡¯t my *place*. I love this place, and how it¡¯s growing, but it¡¯s growing into something that doesn¡¯t need and shouldn¡¯t want me at the top, you know? I¡¯m practicing what I preach; no one in charge that can¡¯t justify being there.¡± James straightens his back, folding his arms, and giving a single nod to the room. Harvey frowned, and looked down at his folder, flipping to a new page. ¡°So, were you planning to help with the recruitment interviews?¡± He asked. ¡°Or is that not your thing either?¡± ¡°I also need to ask you questions about Winter¡¯s Climb, and expected resource values.¡± Karen said. ¡°Is that also something you¡¯ll be abandoning?¡± ¡°Oh my god, relax.¡± James threw his hands up, what felt like a perfectly good summation of his ethos crumbling around him. ¡°I¡¯m still helping with both those things! I just want to do what I¡¯m *good at*, which is interesting problem solving, and not what *you¡¯re* good at, which is organization and leadership!¡± Priestess-Under-Stone hummed with a mechanical whir. ¡°It is true, we do organize very well.¡± She said. ¡°And we learn more, every day.¡± ¡°I¡¯m absolutely unqualified to make most decisions.¡± Myles said. ¡°Unless they¡¯re about municipal salvage. Or evading vehicle pursuit.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m qualified to make calls for anyone here yet.¡± Jake added, before briefly pausing to cock a finger at Myles and say ¡°I am absolutely not able to answer questions about ditching a tail. But I like how ya¡¯ll do things, and I¡¯m more than happy to offer advice.¡± ¡°Should we not have representatives from the other departments here for this?¡± Karen asked. ¡°If we are forming some kind of¡­ committee?¡± ¡°Reed and Momo already said yes. I asked them earlier.¡± James said. ¡°And with that, I am officially resigning as unwilling leader.¡± He dusted his hands off. ¡°Consider me a delver, knight, and problem solver at your disposal.¡± Jake started a polite clap, then trailed off when no one else joined in. ¡°Hey, message from JP.¡± Anesh said, looking up from his phone and cutting off the continuation of the meeting. ¡°He¡¯d like you to answer your calls, and also get your ass down to wherever he is.¡± ¡°Why?¡± James asked. ¡°He said he needs someone to make a call.¡± ¡°He¡¯s been making calls this whole time!¡± Myles exclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s his job!¡± ¡°Yeah, he said James might say that, actually.¡± Anesh said, scrolling on his phone. ¡°He adds ¡®someone to make the *right* call, and right now, I know thats not me¡¯.¡± He looked up at James, eyebrows raised. ¡°Well.¡± Karen said, tapping her fingers on the table. ¡°You said you wanted to be a problem solver.¡± She gave James a slight tilt of her head. ¡°Go solve a problem. We¡¯ll let you know what we need help with next.¡± And James grinned. Chapter 181 ¡°Hatred outlives the hateful.¡± -Rancor, Magic the Gathering- _____ An hour flew by in a real hurry. James had dropped by their armory to grab some gear before teleporting down to some minuscule town in Utah and bailing JP out of whatever problem he¡¯d caused this time. A shield bracer, mostly charged with the shield at level four. Twenty out of its twenty five charges filled, and another one about to tick over. The cooldowns on these technically scaled down rapidly, but the difference between ten hours and twelve hours wasn¡¯t actually relevant in combat situations, so the Order just kept a bunch of spares and rotated them out. This one was about halfway to level five, which would again make it faster, and yet somehow, not faster enough to make a difference that a single person not on shield bracer leveling duty would notice. A pair of dungeontech laser pointers; one of the mapping ones, one of the ones that broadcast your emotional state to the target. Those, and a pair of the glasses that showed affiliation, were his main Office magic tools. Useful little tricks it was good to have on hand just in case. And one telepad, which was a *very* useful trick. And then, more personal magic. He¡¯d gotten another one of the blue orbs that dropped from breaking telepads, and restocked his [Manipulate Asphalt] power to a full twenty three uses. Ethan, who had been helping Rufus organize the armory and was helping James find stuff, had asked if he could absorb a second blue yet, and James had to admit he didn¡¯t know. They¡¯d tried on an unknown blue, but all that had happened was James had broken it when he¡¯d pushed too hard trying to absorb it. [+1 Skill Rank : Gardening - Flowers - Peonies] [Problem Solved : Pets Fed] James would take time later to interrogate what exactly it meant by ¡®pets¡¯. There were four other orbs waiting specifically for him, too. He jokingly asked Ethan if any of them would help with how much his chest scar itched, and instantly regretted it as the early twenties kid, still puppy-dog enthusiastic after all this time, scribbled a note to keep an eye out for that. Ethan had changed a lot, and James hadn¡¯t really noticed, because he¡¯d been busy and also avoiding the guy. Not that he hated Ethan or anything, but he reminded James a lot of Fred, from the Scooby Doo cartoons. Just *so* eager to take charge and solve problems, in ways that were funny when they happened to a talking dog, but were a little annoying when they happened in real life. More annoying when it felt like the person causing them didn¡¯t seem to ever take failures into consideration, just being optimistic and cheerful to the point that the emotions were grating and meaningless. This version of Ethan was still optimistic, and also so caught up in his own ideas for solutions that he was kinda pushy about them, but he was a lot more bearable. Maybe because he wasn¡¯t doing it while James was trying to rescue fifty people from a deathtrap. Either way, the gradual shift toward maturity was appreciated. Not that a good mood was immature; just that timing was important. James had to assume it was exposure to Rufus that was doing it. His first dungeon friend was doing well, judging by how he made content little clicks as he filed stuff away in the drawers and shelves of the armory. There were a few staple plants growing in one of the corners in small pots, along with a cactus, and the strider would occasionally pass by to poke at them with his pen legs. James had already promised to come by Rufus¡¯ garden when he got back and see what the strider had mimed out as ¡®the good stuff¡¯, which was its own kind of exciting. But that was for when he wasn¡¯t on a time budget. Trying to backtrack his statement about his itching wounds to Ethan was of no use. James made his own mental note to be careful what jokes he made around Ethan. The dude was sometimes more literal than the most isolated camraconda. He gave up after the second try, and just caught up on the armory package. [Shell Upgraded : Tensile Strength - Ligaments +19.8 PSI] [Shell Upgraded : Throw Speed +8 mph] [Shell Upgraded : Vocal Precision +/- .4 Octaves] [+1 Skill Rank : Art - Painting - Impressionist] [+1 Skill Rank : Animals - Duck] [+1 Skill Rank : Fabrication - Cookware - Cast Iron] [+2 Skill Ranks : Logistics - Transport - Large Scale - France - Northern] Karen had slipped that last, rather specific, skill in specifically for him, James just knew it. He should never had said that his puny human brain couldn¡¯t comprehend the numbers when talking about the road networks in cities. This was entirely his fault. The last thing he added to his person was a weapon. Grudgingly, though. He still didn¡¯t like how he felt when he had a sidearm, no matter how adroitly his hands could make it do what he needed. And he refused to waste one of the SQ gunbangles on it; partially because of the absolute inefficiency of burning a year long cooldown on a weapon he wasn¡¯t going to get attached to, but also partially because he got to say ¡®gunbangle¡¯ repeatedly when refusing Ethan¡¯s insistence that he take it. And with that, he was about as ready as he felt like he could be to tackle whatever JP and Dave needed his help with. Which was, in all probability, something existentially dangerous. Counting the pseudo-distraction of Ethan¡¯s insistence he try another blue, James had spent about fifteen minutes on this, and half of that was waiting for an elevator. His main time sink now was finding extra people to bring with him. ¡°Alanna!¡± James cheerfully threw himself at his girlfriend, interrupting the paperwork she was filling out in the Response break room. ¡°Just the person I was looking for! Also hi Frequency.¡± He nodded to the camraconda on the other side of the small table, who was slumped over the surface, her camera head somehow looking mopey. ¡°That explains why you texted me two minutes ago asking where I was.¡± Alanna tilted back and bonked into James¡¯ chest with her head. ¡°Sup?¡± ¡°Do you wanna come down to Utah with me?¡± James asked, cupping her head in his hands and massaging her scalp through her short hair. Alanna practically melted into him. ¡°What, for a vacation?¡± She asked. ¡°Because you just had a vacation. Wait, you¡¯re in charge! You can take all the vacations you want! It¡¯s the perfect crime!¡± ¡°Nnnnno. No.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the grin off his face or out of his voice. ¡°It¡¯s to help JP with the people who made the depression potion. Or people linked to them, or something. I¡¯m heading out now, but I wanted some backup. Also I¡¯m not in charge.¡± The noise Alanna made was one that evoked an obvious disbelief, but put it off for a future conversation. ¡°Well, that does sound fun, but I¡¯m on call. And while Response makes allowances for emergencies and bailing our people out of things, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s what¡¯s happening, is it?¡± ¡°Nah. JP just wants me there to be an ethics person, I think. He intends to do some diplomacy, and having someone who likes talking to people without tricking or flirting with them is a good idea.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t Dave with him?¡± ¡°Think about that sentence.¡± ¡°Right. Right.¡± Alanna clicked her tongue, wiggling slightly to motivated James to keep giving her head rubs. ¡°So why backup?¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m tired of getting caught unprepared for disasters every time I leave the state.¡± James said, with a blunt frustration in his voice. ¡°If someone¡¯s gonna try to drop a building on me again, I want my muscly girlfriend there to punch them for me.¡± Alanna stuck her tongue out at him. ¡°Well, much as I¡¯d love to cover your delicate butt, you¡¯ll have to find someone else. Maybe ask Arrush? He likes you. Or Alex, because she¡¯s just eager for adventure, and this absolutely will turn into a disaster on you.¡± Alanna thought for a second, looking around the room for anyone who wasn¡¯t on call with Response. ¡°Or you could¡­ uh¡­¡± She cleared her throat and trailed off, just as the camraconda at her table perked up. ¡°Me!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight exclaimed in her digital voice. ¡°Me me me! Take me!¡± James shrugged. ¡°Yeah, sure. Go find Alex for me, and we¡¯ll meet upstairs in¡­¡± The camraconda was already gone, toppling the chair in her wake as she slithered out of the room at ten miles an hour. Alanna pivoted around in her chair to look up at James. ¡°You get that Deb is gonna kill you, right?¡± ¡°Jokes on her! She took an oath!¡± James rolled his eyes. He had a kind of complex feeling about Deb¡¯s desire to keep her girlfriend safe. On the one hand, he got it. He himself felt like he¡¯d do just about anything to help if Anesh or Alanna needed it of him. But Deb had a constant insistence that Frequency-Of-Sunlight not ever *be* in situations where she might need help. And James could see with a terrible clarity where that was driving a wedge between them. Also it was just kind of a shitty thing to do to someone. He¡¯d been wanting to talk to Deb about it for days now, ever since he made the realization halfway through his trip, but hadn¡¯t found the time since he got back. Maybe he¡¯d ask Alex to bring it up; the two of them were friends, it¡¯d probably come across better than James being the one to say anything. ¡°Okay,¡± Alanna told him, ¡°but like, Sunny is also *my* friend. So please don¡¯t get her in too much trouble? Or hurt?¡± ¡°Oh, absolutely.¡± James blinked as he came back to the present. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s new to everything, she needs some protection, right? But, she also wants to *do stuff*, and she¡¯s adult enough to make her own choices, and am *I* really the right person to tell someone to not follow their dreams of adventure?¡± ¡°Fuck no.¡± Alanna didn¡¯t hesitate for a second to answer. ¡°Anyway. You gonna go or you gonna hang out with me all day?¡± ¡°I mean, I could just hang out with you all day, sure.¡± James plopped into the vacated camraconda chair, sinking back into it instantly. ¡°What¡¯cha working on?¡± Alanna gave a snort of a laugh. ¡°Report on the last Response deployment. Armed robbery, my least favorite thing to deal with.¡± ¡°Really? Even less than fights over noise complaints?¡± James was surprised. ¡°Oh yeah. Noise complaint fights are just negotiation. Armed robbery, you need to worry about a bystander getting shot or something.¡± She sighed, tossing her pen back onto the plastic table. ¡°The worst part is, there¡¯s an easy fix to the problem; give the guy - it¡¯s always a guy - money. But that kind of just incentivizes the wrong behavior.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± James tried to lean forward to plant his elbows on the table, but found himself sucked farther back into the bowl of the chair. ¡°Okay, so...¡± he struggled forward, eventually pulling himself up with a huff. ¡°Okay! So, what I¡¯m hearing is that we need to kill poverty. Again.¡± ¡°We killed it once?¡± Alanna asked deadpan. ¡°I heard it once.¡± James said. ¡°Though I think last time I heard it, I was saying it.¡± ¡°You were. And you were right. And it *sucks*! Because we don¡¯t have, like, tax income or some massive investment portfolio that we can leverage into generating help! We can¡¯t actually make social services, you know?¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve heard that. But I¡¯ve heard a lot of things we can¡¯t do in my day.¡± James affected an old man voice briefly. ¡°But yeah, I have this weird suspicion that it would be more cost effective to run a social safety net than to actively stop people robbing banks, you know?¡± ¡°Gas stations.¡± Alanna said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°It¡¯s never banks. Four months back doing Response, and I have not once stopped a bank robbery. My childhood dreams of being a superhero are crumbling around me. It¡¯s always gas stations, or convenience stores.¡± ¡°Wait, childhood?¡± James smirked at her. Alanna made a rude noise at him. ¡°I mean, they¡¯re *still* my dreams, but also they were from my childhood too. Also hey! Aren¡¯t you supposed to be somewhere?¡± ¡°I should probably get moving, yeah.¡± James rolled to the floor and hopped up to his feet. ¡°Though I suspect JP would have called me repeatedly if there was an actual emergency. And I¡¯m giving Alex and Sunny time to get their stuff together.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t think *both* those girls have adventuring kit just ready to go, possibly on their persons at all times, you¡¯re kinda dumb.¡± ¡®I *am* kinda dumb!¡± James told her, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek as he passed. ¡°That¡¯s why you like me, I assume!¡± ¡°Have fun in Utah!¡± Alanna yelled after him with a dopey grin on her face as he left the break room, and headed for the stairs. James stretched his legs on the stairs, passing by a pair of Response members he didn¡¯t recognize coming back with fast food bags. He nodded politely as they passed each other on the concrete staircase. A part of him realized now that the organization was too large for him to know everyone all the time. But that was fine, he realized. He knew some people, they knew some people, eventually it was all one big chain. The world had always worked that way; but the modern era had tricked everyone into thinking they were separate, that their communities were too small to matter. He liked it here. He liked the Order he¡¯d started, that he was increasingly sure could keep going without him. He¡¯d just walked past two random people he¡¯d never met, and yet, he knew they wanted to help. That was a powerful, and comforting, thought. James added a heavy coat to the light smile he was wearing when he got upstairs to the common room, and found Alex and Frequency-Of-Sunlight waiting for him by the front desk. ¡°Hey. You two ready?¡± He asked. ¡°You kept us waiting forever!¡± Alex complained. ¡°It¡¯s been, like¡­¡± ¡°It has been seven minutes.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said matter of factly. ¡°Which is still too long. We are impatient.¡± ¡°Well it¡¯s good that you know yourselves.¡± James said, pulling out his telepad as he sent a final ¡®on the way¡¯ text to JP. ¡°Hey, Frequency. With telepads, does it work for you with the mech arms?¡± He asked, tilting his phone in a gesture toward the robotic backpack she had wired into her skulljack. ¡°Or are they not ¡®you¡¯?¡± ¡°Not me.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight replied, shaking her whole head and upper body side to side in a motion of denial. The backpack she was wearing was the newest version Mars and his hardware engineer team had put together. Four manipulator arms, ball joints at the base and wrists, elbow joint in the middle. The motor was stronger than previous versions, which meant it was heavier. The batteries were heavier, too, but still didn¡¯t provide more than an hour of operational life due to the increased power need. The whole thing was very impressive, if you were someone without hand who needed some hands. It still couldn¡¯t outperform or even match human hands, though. Grip strength couldn¡¯t measure up, and stress testing had found that the arms had trouble when it came to leverage. They weren¡¯t integrated into the camraconda¡¯s body, after all, and so the straps of the backpack were a weak point that had to be taken into account. Still, being able to pick stuff up was basically a superpower, and James would never take it for granted again. ¡°Alright.¡± He said, laying a hand on Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s head, and getting Alex to put a hand on his shoulder as he double checked his telepad. ¡°Let¡¯s go see what kind of mess JP has made.¡± Three people blipped out of the common room with a snap of air compressing. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Just in time for Bill to shoulder his way through a different stairwell door, the broad shouldered man rushing into the common room out of breath and looking around frantically. ¡°Did I miss them?¡± He asked, sweeping his gaze over the handful of afternoon visitors to the Order. ¡°Did anyone see James?!¡± He called out, panting and holding his hand to his chest. ¡°You just missed him.¡± Davis said from where he was having a conversation with Planner by the community bulletin board in the middle of the room. ¡°We can call him if you need something?¡± Bill sighed. ¡°Nah.¡± He said, dejected. ¡°I just keep missing him every time he¡¯s in the building, and I need his particular voodoo.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Davis and Planner nodded in sync with each other, the infomorph¡¯s angular ghostly face bobbing in the air behind the older man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Uh, do you want the spell?¡± Davis asked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°There is an expedition being planned for fifteen days from now.¡± Planner scritched the words. ¡°You are designated as low priority on the list of potential delvers, due to having a family, but the Climb has so far proven low risk with proper preparation. Broader distribution of utility magics to utility members is desirable.¡± Davis noticed Bill¡¯s flat stare. ¡°They mean that it¡¯d be good for the guy who needs the spell for air conditioning to have the spell for air conditioning.¡± ¡°Oh! Uh, sure?¡± Bill gave a rolling shrug. ¡°I mean, yes. Absolutely. Yes? What kind of fucking idiot would I be if I said no?¡± ¡°We most likely would not have hired you if that were a likely outcome.¡± Planner scribbled, causing Davis to rub at his forehead in frustration. This was, really, their own fault for collectively supporting an infomorph who had been incepted in James¡¯ head. ¡°I¡¯ll put you on the list.¡± Davis said, ignoring Planner. He glanced toward where James and the others had just teleported out. ¡°Assuming we¡¯re still around in two weeks.¡± He muttered. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t we be?¡± Bill said offhandedly, not really paying attention as he pecked at his phone, texting his wife and trying to be as reassuring as possible about a potential ¡®work trip¡¯. The Researcher just shook his head and waved off the thought. ¡°Oh, just the constant worry every time someone takes an adventuring party anywhere around here.¡± ¡°You will become accustomed.¡± Planner stated in a voice like dry scrollwork. _____ Three bodies snapped into place in the suburbs of a small town in Utah. The thing about small towns, James figured, was that no one who didn¡¯t grow up in one really understood how their suburbs worked. Or rather, how their suburbs *felt* more than how they worked. Suburbs started to happen when cities started to grow. But suburbs didn¡¯t happen all at once. They crept out from the city core like fuzzy fractal lines, branches forming and linking up as more developments painted in the blank space between the first and second waves of growth. The process started slow, and accelerated over time if growth kept up. But this led to situations where a suburb¡¯s main trunk might have single story ranch houses with creaking floorboards built two decades ago with five acre backyards, and a street and a half away you¡¯d have polished two story copy-pasted family homes with fresh carpet and a secret basement if you knew where to look. Some parts of the suburbs, jumping a backyard fence would lead you to another, nearly identical backyard, but other places you might find yourself suddenly on the edge of a sprawling wetland. And no matter where you went, suburbs were going to be half empty, half full of people curious for anything out of the ordinary happening in their neighborhoods. James was really, really glad that JP had done the legwork of tailing their targets back to this suburban home, because he would have gotten lost after one turn and started screaming about city planning. Being able to teleport to a known site saved him a lot of headache. This suburb was one of those long tendrils, stretching away from the core. Eventually, it would fill in and flesh out, but for now, it was selling itself as ¡®quiet¡¯ and with ¡®room to grow¡¯. When he, Alex, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight arrived, they did so into a balmy early December day. It was overcast, grey, but still warm enough that James knew his coat was going to start feeling too heavy in about ten minutes. Around them, white painted two story homes that would be described as ¡®perfect for new families¡¯ by a real estate agent lined the road, about a third of them with cars in the driveways. An equal number of the houses had a cactus in their front yard somewhere, and James had a brief moment where he considered seeing if he could swipe one of the big orb shaped ones for Rufus on the way out. ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re here.¡± JP¡¯s voice from behind them got a jolt of shock out of James, who turned to see his friend sitting in the driver¡¯s seat of a panel van labeled as a plumbing company. ¡°I thought you¡¯d gotten in another thing.¡± ¡°Thing?¡± James pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side as he waited to hear JP¡¯s almost certainly insulting reply. ¡°Yeah, you know. Fight to the death, daring rescue, trapped under a falling vending machine. Something like that.¡± ¡°There it is.¡± James nodded. ¡°Good, good. So, how ya been?¡± From the passenger seat, Dave leaned past to call out the open window. ¡°He¡¯s been like this for days! Save me!¡± ¡°You could have left whenever you wanted.¡± JP pushed Dave back. ¡°Anyway, hi. Welcome to the desert.¡± James looked around. ¡°I know a lot of these places have cacti, but you know Utah isn¡¯t all desert, right? I checked, it¡¯s got a lot of trees, actually.¡± He paused. ¡°Although it is almost seventy degrees out in December, so maybe I should shut up on this front. Also, are we seriously talking about the *weather*? Come on. Fill me in on what¡¯s going on.¡± Behind him, he heard Alex snicker slightly, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s digital voice quietly add an ¡°I enjoy weather¡± to the conversation. JP just leaned on the edge of the van¡¯s window, looking down at James. ¡°You know, teleporting into the middle of a street is a lifestyle choice you¡¯ve sure decided to make.¡± He said in a forced neutral voice. ¡°Sure would be awkward if one of your good friends was trying to spy on someone in the area.¡± ¡°You said you needed me down here!¡± James exclaimed. ¡°Do you want my help or not?¡± ¡°Oh, I do, I¡¯m just giving you shit because I¡¯ve been bored.¡± JP said. ¡°Okay. Here¡¯s the deal.¡± He put on his serious voice, and rapidly outlined what had been going on, and what they¡¯d turned up. After they¡¯d spooked a few of the Alchemists, one of them in particular had completely forgone the process of checking in with his fellows. They hadn¡¯t spoken at all, actually, for some time. Even as they¡¯d been traced back to here, through a combination of physically following them, and use of tracking devices. As far as JP was aware, the occupants were not aware they were under surveillance. There were two other Rogues in the area that they were rotating out with, and between them they had the house under round the clock watch. No one had left, only people arriving over the last week and a half. Through carefully planted audio bugs as well as directional microphones, they also knew the house was worryingly quiet. The Alchemist was not the first person to arrive at this house, nor were they the last. ¡°There¡¯s three cars in the garage, plus the other three in the driveway and curbside.¡± JP said. ¡°Some of them arrived carpooling, too. So counting the first one that was already here, there¡¯s nine human shaped living things in the house, ten if you count the dog, and you should count the dog.¡± The dog had also been silent this whole time. Well, almost this whole time. Earlier today, just before JP had asked for James to drop by, the ninth human had arrived. Like all the others, they¡¯d been let into the house by someone who appeared to look perfectly normal, a smiling late fifties woman in a black dress adorned in colorful polka dots. She¡¯d had the same dress on every time she¡¯d answered the door, and it was always perfectly neat. And then, they¡¯d started getting snippets of conversation. ¡°On the one hand, I¡¯m appreciative.¡± JP told him. ¡°Because it¡¯s literally all relevant stuff. But they do *not* waste words. If they¡¯re talking, it¡¯s never small talk. It¡¯s always sharing information, a relevant opinion, or making a decision.¡± As for what they were talking about? Well, it was the Order. There was a lot of speculation, since the Alchemist who was spooked didn¡¯t have a big picture view of things themself. And the conversation regularly lapsed into complete silence. But when they were talking, they were drawing connections, and making declarations of shared plans for dealing with contact with the Order going forward. Which led to the big problem. ¡°They¡¯re not the people who have been making the potions.¡± JP told James, face serious. ¡°...Okay.¡± James leaned against the side of the van, watching Alex and Frequency as the two of them watched down one of the streets of the T-intersection, chatting about something. ¡°So, how are they involved? Did we spook a different group by accident?¡± ¡°He¡¯s gonna hate this.¡± Dave said from the passenger seat, headphones over his ears as he listened to the silence of the audio bugs. ¡°No.¡± JP told James. ¡°They *are* the potions.¡± James tensed up briefly, hands clenching on his forearms before he took a breath, and let his hands fall down to his pockets. ¡°Yeah, that¡­ makes sense.¡± He said, eventually. ¡°Explains the not-very-human silence. All of them?¡± He asked. ¡°Even the dog.¡± JP replied. He took another deep breath. A memory of falling into an endless black, of being bricked away from his own mind, crept in on him, and a shot of icy fear rooted its way into James¡¯ lungs. He shoved it away. Or at least, tried to ignore it. Fear wasn¡¯t going to help here. ¡°Okay.¡± James kept his breathing steady. ¡°What¡¯s their thought on us?¡± JP and Dave didn¡¯t have the whole picture, but they had enough of it from what they¡¯d overheard. The potion people were, in short, terrified of the Order. And, really, they had good reason to be. An organized group that knew about them, had almost lost a member to them, and was most likely hostile? That spelled bad news for their survival prospects. The potions had gone through a few potential plans, though it was hard to hear all of them clearly, so JP couldn¡¯t give a full report. But the one that had amused him, in a grim way, was that they¡¯d considered asking for amnesty from a number of organizations. Some were ruled out, like the WHO, some were still on the table, like certain governmental intelligence agencies, or, hilariously, Response. They¡¯d heard of the teleporting problem solvers, but hadn¡¯t connected them back to the Order of Endless Rooms. ¡°So, what¡¯s *your* plan?¡± James asked JP. ¡°Well, I mean, I called you.¡± JP said. James just folded his arms again and tilted his head up to frown at his friend through the van¡¯s window. ¡°Alright, fine!¡± JP admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve got three more people around here to cut off escape, Pendragon¡¯s in the back, and if you say the word we can get the fireball gun out of storage and torch the place. There are two more untouched potions out in the world, according to them, but these are all the ¡®people¡¯. If we get rid of them, especially the Alchemist, then problem solved. Dust off our hands, done by dinner.¡± JP shrugged, like he was talking about taking out the recycling and not committing genocide. But his voice was strained, and he knew what he was saying. ¡°If you think we need more backup, we¡¯ve *got* more backup. Just, you know, say the word.¡± James suppressed a different form of fear. ¡°What¡­¡± he cleared his throat. ¡°What¡¯s your *plan*, though?¡± He asked quietly. ¡°I called you.¡± JP said, staring through the windshield, hands drumming a staccato beat on the worn steering wheel of the used van. ¡°Really. My plan was to call you.¡± He muttered. James got what he was saying. There had been a fear in him, since he¡¯d taken the potion that JP had brought back. The one that was supposed to cure his depression. In a twisted way, it absolutely would have done what it said on the tin. His depression certainly would have ended. And, judging by the fact that the people in the house were all seemingly from a fairly mixed set of social circles, no one would have noticed. It was, to the grim part of James¡¯ brain that thought about these kinds of things, *almost* appealing. There had been more than one time in his life where he¡¯d just wanted the exhaustion, the panic, and the hurting to *end*, but chose not to in part because there were people he cared about that he didn¡¯t want to hurt. But actual antidepressants had pushed that feeling farther and farther into the background over the last few months, and the thought of consequence-free suicide now just seemed repulsive. And also, when faced with the end¡­ he¡¯d flinched. Not just flinched, he¡¯d screamed and clawed to keep out of that endless abyss, and when Anesh had reached out to help him, he¡¯d grabbed on to the lifeline so hard he imagined he could have kinked the Ethernet cable between them with his thoughts alone. But the fear hadn¡¯t gone away. In quiet moments and nightmares, the reminder that something had tried to hollow him out and take over his corpse drifted into his thoughts. A little nudge to keep in mind the fact that he now knew the world was *full* of out of context problems, and his defenses against them were pure luck. It always, in James¡¯ life, seemed to come down to fear in some way, didn¡¯t it? His own fears, of death, of failure, of mundanity. The more he had the more he risked with each chance he took. The more pressure he felt to just let a safe routine take over. The fears of the rest of the Order. People like Alex, afraid that they¡¯d lose what they¡¯d become part of. JP, afraid of becoming something he couldn¡¯t take back, of hurting his friends and found family. Even Morgan, just afraid that his life wasn¡¯t optimized for the way society told him things were supposed to work. And the fears of his enemies and opponents. Those had always been too much of an influence. Frank¡¯s fear of losing his grip on power pushing him to feed more and more people into the dungeon. Status Quo¡¯s fear of loss of normalcy pushing them to kill children in the name of stability. The FBI¡¯s fear of losing their national identity pushing them to start targeting the Order for disruption. And now, the fears of these people. Worried that *James* was going to be the one swooping in out of nowhere and bringing chaos and death with him. James shaded his eyes against the afternoon sun and looked down the street, waving Alex and Frequency-Of-Sunlight over. Quickly filled them in on the situation. They stood there, James leaning against the van, JP badly disguising his nerves in the front seat, everyone just processing the information in the middle of a small town Utah suburb. A polished silver sedan rolled by, the grumpy looking driver slowing to give their collected group a glare before turning into a driveway a block away down the road. A cluster of small red birds flew by close to street level, flitting from one tree to another. In the distance, a train horn echoed. James ignored them all. He was busy thinking. When he eventually spoke, his voice was tight. ¡°I¡¯m going to go say hi.¡± He said, trying to force a casual grin. ¡°They tried to kill you.¡± JP said. ¡°Through me, I should add. Indirectly at least.¡± ¡°Yup.¡± James said. ¡°They did. And I¡¯m gonna go say hi.¡± It was easier to say the second time. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate backup, for when this almost certainly goes wrong. But this is important.¡± JP met his eyes, nodded slowly. He was about to say something when Dave irreverently elbowed his friend. ¡°I told you! You owe me ten bucks.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± JP grumbled. ¡°Alright, you two hop in.¡± He motioned to James¡¯ original backup. ¡°We¡¯ll park across the street, just in case.¡± He rummaged around in the glove box, and came up with a pair of compact pieces of hardware, clipping one into the back of his head, and passing the other to Dave. ¡°Pendragon¡¯s our router for this one. You need a spare link?¡± He asked James. James just shook his head, tapping the skulljack hardware he kept in most of the time anyway. With a slight mental nudge, he accessed local wifi, found the one labeled ¡®hashtagdragonthings¡¯, and connected. A small program running on the firmware of the link finding the other skulljack connections, and staring to easily feed him the ability to access shared audio and visual inputs from his allies. Just in case. ¡°I like this plan.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said, rising up to her full height in front of James, delivering a parting word before jumping into the van. ¡°I am biased.¡± She bobbed her head in a satisfied nod. James¡¯ smile got a little more real. ¡°Heh. Yeah, I can imagine.¡± He said. ¡°Well, we¡¯ll see how it goes.¡± He and Alex helped the camraconda up over the edge of the van¡¯s rear compartment, into the larger than expected space next to a napping Pendragon. ¡°Remember. If it turns out I¡¯m an idiot, and diplomacy was a mistake, you come save my ass, okay?¡± He said, getting a snort and a thumbs up from Alex before he closed the doors with a metal bang, thumping twice on them with the palm of his hand before turning to walk down the sidewalk, like this was something he did every day. They¡¯d tried to kill him. At the very least, the Alchemist among their number was likely responsible for the propagation of more of those potions. The ones that killed someone from the inside, and replaced them. The kind of potion James had thought would help him. They¡¯d broken his trust, almost killed him, and as soon as they were threatened they started trying to decide if they should sell their services to murderous intelligence agencies. James was finding it challenging to find sympathy for them, though. In fact, he was finding it difficult to feel anything that wasn¡¯t anger, and that lurking residual background fear. He paused at the end of the driveway for the perfectly normal looking suburban home. Two stories, really wide, a few weird peaks in the roof marking alcoves in the bedrooms, nice three car garage. The garden was even kept up, with the kind of lawn that James scowled at for a different reason entirely; lush greenery that was a *tremendous* waste of water. But he wasn¡¯t here to be annoyed at lawns. The thing of it was, James had an idea of what a working justice system should look like, and should behave like. Violence, historically, didn¡¯t work. It hadn¡¯t worked, and wasn¡¯t working, to actually reduce the *real* problem. Because the real problem wasn¡¯t that people weren¡¯t obeying the state, the real problem was that people were getting hurt. Punitive measures didn¡¯t do a damn thing to undo hurt, or to ensure it didn¡¯t happen again. It was counterintuitive to humans. Maybe for all life. Because it felt good to see someone be punished for hurting you. But that feeling was a lie and a trap; you would never reduce the world¡¯s pain by causing more pain. And if James wanted to argue for restorative justice, and for an end to the cycle of hurt, then he needed to live that way himself. So he followed some advice from his ongoing therapy, and looked at his anger, and his fear, and acknowledged them. His feelings were real, and they weren¡¯t illusions. He¡¯d been attacked when he should have felt safest, and no one thing would ever take that breach of trust away. But it wasn¡¯t his goal to slap a revenge bandaid over his inner demons. It was his goal to make sure no one had to feel like this again. James took one last deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of gradually heating dust and a slightly spicy scent that he knew was from something green but had never smelled before. And then he walked up the small pebbled concrete path, and knocked on the thick wood front door. The wait was long enough he started to feel that awkward sensation where he wondered if he should knock again. Which was, itself, a boon, because the realization that he was mentally puzzling over social anxiety while waiting to meet his attempted murderers actually made him laugh to himself at the absurdity. When the door swung open and a woman in a black polka dot dress greeted him with a perfectly normal, slightly confused but still friendly ¡°Yes? Can I help you?¡± James had an actual smile on. A bit fragile, but real. ¡°Hello.¡± He said. ¡°My name is James Lyle. I¡¯m here to clear up some confusion.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes flicked up to the van at the end of the driveway, still bearing the decal from JP¡¯s fake plumbing company. ¡°We don¡¯t need¡­¡± ¡°Okay, sorry, I should have been less cryptic.¡± James held up a hand, forestalling her comment. ¡°I know what you are, because I have survived one of your people. I am a representative of the Order of Endless Rooms. I am not here to fight, and I¡¯d actually rather like to talk. But I can give you a minute if you need it.¡± The woman¡¯s face had gone from worried to shock white as James had spoken. When he finished, she stood with her back straight, somehow looking very small as she stared down at James on the front steps from the vantage point of the house¡¯s lobby. From inside the house, there was the sound of sudden, frantic movement. James caught sight of two people bolting past the hallway, the door to the garage slamming open in their wake out of his sight. And maybe it was seeing it in person, but there was something about her expression, and the unfolding chaos, that really did bring some context to this. *They* were afraid of *him*. ¡°Is this a bad time?¡± James asked, holding back a full on explosion of laughter. And his fear evaporated. Chapter 182 ¡°This place is not a place of honor... no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here... nothing valued is here¡± -Sandia National Laboratories, Long-term nuclear waste warning message- _____ ¡°You know,¡± James said from the back of the van that he was sitting in, ¡°I actually expected my dramatic gesture to make this faster, not slower?¡± He was leaning with his back against the interior wall of the van, one leg dangling out of the open back doors toward the street, idly juggling a trio of small blue orbs with magically enhanced precision. A single rogue cloud had crossed over the path of the sun, and the temperature had dropped ten degrees, which somehow hadn¡¯t changed how the day actually felt. Dave and Frequency-Of-Sunlight were sitting deeper in the van, playing some compact card game that Dave had brought, while Alex was farther into the van¡¯s depths giving Pendragon belly rubs while the dragon rolled against the expanded confines of the van¡¯s wall. James briefly wondered what it would look like outside. Would the van rock everytime Pendragon moved like that? Did it take proportionally more energy from her, here inside this orange-warped space, to produce the normal effect outside of it? The thought distracted him for a good two minutes. Which was good because no one had responded to his comment. ¡°Urrrrgh.¡± James gurgled dramatically, tipping his head back to repeatedly tap the metal frame of the van with his skull. ¡°I should have brought a laptop or something.¡± He complained. ¡°I am bored! Why am I so bored!?¡± ¡°Because having nothing to do while also having the upcoming tension of a potential confrontation amplifies the feeling of helplessness.¡± Dave said in a voice like he¡¯d rehearsed that line a few hundred times, before adding another card to the scuffed cargo bay floor. ¡°Also, three here, two there. Get rid of your thing.¡± He pointed at a card on Frequency¡¯s side. The girl made her own grumbling noise, though it was really more of a disgruntled hiss, as she awkwardly plucked the single card to place it into her growing discard pile. ¡°I don¡¯t even know the rules to this.¡± She complained. ¡°There¡¯s a copy in Pen, you can just look them up through the link. That¡¯s what I¡¯m doing.¡± Dave said. ¡°It¡¯s hard!¡± The camraconda exclaimed. ¡°So, you¡¯ve been enjoying the stakeouts?¡± James asked Dave casually. His friend hummed softly. ¡°Nope.¡± Dave said. ¡°I¡¯m bored all the time, and we¡¯re on a telepad budget so I¡¯m not even going in to work while we do this. It¡¯s been weeks since I got to give a golden retriever a bath.¡± ¡°What¡­¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight started to say, before pausing. ¡°How do you bathe others?¡± She asked, in a casual tone that was way too suspicious. ¡°Depends on how energetic the golden retriever is, I guess?¡± Dave answered, missing all subtext. James sighed. ¡°Sunny, a golden retriever is a breed of dog, and for the other bit I¡¯ll give you a real answer later. Dave¡­ Dave, are you still working at the animal shelter?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± ¡°While raising Pendragon, working Response shifts, *being a knight of the Order of Endless Rooms*, and¡­ a billion other things, I assume?¡± James added. ¡°Yeah, that sounds about right.¡± Dave said. ¡°Wait, is this about how busy things are? JP complained about this too. You aren¡¯t allowed to! I¡¯ve already prepared a defensive list of the sixteen different jobs you do.¡± James scratched a bit of grit out of the corner of his eye. ¡°I appreciate that you consider me highly enough to preemptively counter my arguments.¡± He said in a kind of ¡®yeah, you got me there¡¯ tone of voice. ¡°You know what *I* appreciate?!¡± Alex called from thirty feet deeper into the van. ¡°Adventure.¡± The three others all muttered at once. ¡°A goddamn adventure!¡± Alex continued. ¡°James, we¡¯ve been here for two hours, and nothing is happening!¡± ¡°First off, it¡¯s only been two hours. I admit, I¡¯m also bored, and all that stuff Dave said is probably true, but chill.¡± James turned to look toward the picturesque suburban house. ¡°Give them some time. Some jackass just threw their lives into disarray, we can wait a bit. Also, Alex, bad news. You probably won¡¯t need to survive and triumph against overwhelming odds today.¡± ¡°Bah!¡± Alex called back. ¡°To be fair, they could be trying to run away right now.¡± Dave pointed out. James shrugged. ¡°Eh.¡± He offered. ¡°For one thing, I¡¯d bet money JP already has GPS trackers in all those cars-¡° ¡°He does. He made me put them there.¡± Dave interrupted. ¡°- and also, I don¡¯t think I care?¡± James let out a long exhalation. ¡°Like¡­ okay, they¡¯re dangerous, sure. But are they? I mean, they¡¯re created by killing people, but are the resulting life forms dangerous? More dangerous than just a normal person, I mean. Like, anyone is dangerous with a gun.¡± ¡°Not to me!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight chimed in, twisting to wiggle her tail and show off the shield bracer magically resized for a camraconda. ¡°...Sure.¡± James briefly conceded, still rolling the trio of blues in his hand. ¡°Anyway, point is¡­ I dunno, I feel like we put a lot of time and effort into tracking these things down, just to learn that they¡¯re not the overwhelming existential threat to the world that we think they are. And I¡¯m having a hard time feeling angry enough to actually hunt them down if they do panic and run. Like, just let ''em go, you know? We have so many other things we could be doing. Also it¡¯s rude to relentlessly pursue someone like that.¡± ¡°Manners are important.¡± Dave agreed with a stoic nod. Frequency-Of-Sunlight glanced up from the shared game, and back and forth between James and Dave. ¡°Why?¡± She asked. ¡°Why what?¡± James said, trying and failing repeatedly to spin a blue orb on his fingertip. ¡°Why are manners important?¡± Frequency asked. ¡°They seem to be a human mother concept? Also arbitrary.¡± James smiled a bit. ¡°Oh. Manners are¡­ okay, yeah, they¡¯re *mostly* arbitrary. Some of them have cultural origin points that are rooted in a specific need, though. Like, handshakes were meant to show you weren¡¯t hiding a weapon, for example. I think. That might be a myth.¡± James cleared his throat as he backtracked. ¡°Anyway. Being arbitrary doesn¡¯t make them bad, specifically. They¡¯re meant to be¡­ how to frame this¡­ they¡¯re like a signal to everyone else that you want to be polite?¡± He thought for a second and then nodded. ¡°Yeah, that sounds about right. The point is that we¡¯re all sort of collectively agreeing that certain behaviors are meant to show respect, or kindness, or whatever. The gestures themselves don¡¯t matter, just that we¡¯ve all decided what they are.¡± ¡°And everyone decided hunting people is rude?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked, trying to wrap her head around the monumental task of getting eight *billion* people to agree on anything. ¡°Well, I¡¯m being kinda sarcastic.¡± James said, which alleviated a lot of confusion. ¡°Manners are more about actively doing petty non-things, rather than avoiding murdering people or whatever. Or, like, the things you avoid are the inverse; small meaningless gestures meant to signal something negative. Like flipping someone off!¡± ¡°I do that frequently.¡± The camraconda said, looking at the floor sheepishly. ¡°Manipulators are challenging.¡± The sight of a distressed camraconda drew a small noise of pity from James. They really needed to get the ball rolling on making magic items themselves, so that they could start equipping the new serpentine population of the world with arms that actually helped. ¡°Hey Dave.¡± James said, eliciting a ¡®hm?¡¯ from his friend before he continued. ¡°You¡¯re the one who probably has the most insight into the blue orbs. Why *aren¡¯t* we making dungeontech with them?¡± ¡°Oh, we just don¡¯t know how.¡± Dave said with a shrug. ¡°Sarah says that they come from totems, but she couldn¡¯t remember why she thinks that. Personally¡­ I dunno. Maybe? I actually think they¡¯re not something we can make.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re, like, like the traps you know? The traps drop reds, but we *know* what reds do when they¡¯re broken, totemed, and shaped. And I doubt absorbing a red turns you into an Indiana Jones problem, right?¡± Dave shrugged. ¡°I just don¡¯t think we can make a ¡®magic item¡¯ like the dungeon does. Sorry, man.¡± ¡°Dang. Cause I was gonna say ¡®magic camraconda arms¡¯ and then do this and see what happened.¡± He threw one of the blues he was holding in an overhand arc. Dave lazily caught it out of the air, just over Frequency¡¯s snout as she traced its trajectory. ¡°Also, ¡®shaped¡¯?¡± ¡°I would have loved magic arms.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said off to the side. ¡°Made into life.¡± Dave said, rolling the orb in his fingers, holding it up to catch the overcasts light from the open backdoors of the van. ¡°Like Pendragon.¡± ¡°Hey, wait!¡± Alex called, before her thudding footsteps heralded her sliding across the van¡¯s floor to join their group, leaving a grumbling Pendragon behind without a source of pets.. ¡°Just make blue life!¡± Dave and James shared a glance. Dave shrugged, but James had other plans. ¡°Alex, the blues are conceptually aspected toward being tools.¡± He said calmly. ¡°We don¡¯t make life to be tools. That¡¯s just not something we do.¡± ¡°No, but see, it actually makes sense!¡± Alex breathlessly exclaimed. ¡°Half the stupid magic items have these weird fuzzy boundaries around what they can do, right? And all those weird quirks suddenly make a lot of sense if you imagine that the items are a tiny bit alive, and making decisions! Like, why does the paperweight ignore force from one direction, but *not the orbit of Earth*? Because it¡¯s alive, and not stupid!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight twisted her body, flopping her front half over her tail to stare up at James, now upside down in her vision. ¡°I apologize.¡± She said. ¡°I should not have complained. Now I have a headache. Apologizing is good manners.¡± ¡°You know, half the time, I can¡¯t tell if your people are messing with me with the things you say.¡± James told her with a smirk. ¡°We are learning quickly, yes.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight replied with a bronze-toothed camraconda grin. James appreciated that more of them were becoming more comfortable actually showing their fangs when they smiled; it had bothered him more than seeing the stabby rows of teeth when he¡¯d learned that a lot of camracondas just didn¡¯t smile so they wouldn¡¯t alarm anyone. ¡°Guys, I¡¯m serious!¡± Alex said, spinning on her knees on the metal floor to face Dave. ¡°Dave, you agree with¡­ Dave?¡± Dave had checked out, and was now intently staring at the orb in his palm. ¡°A living tool, huh?¡± He muttered. ¡°Thought following task¡­¡± ¡°Dave, no.¡± James admonished him. And then, realizing Dave had that look in his eye of someone who was experiencing a deep insight into the mystical reality of their world, the kind of which usually ended with a breakthrough or an explosion, added, ¡°Dave, no!¡± ¡°Dave, absolutely no.¡± JP¡¯s voice from the street outside drew their attention, causing Dave to fumble the orb which Frequency snatched out of his grip with pretty good precision for her adopted limbs. ¡°What¡¯s Dave not doing?¡± He asked, not waiting for an answer before adding, ¡°Also someone¡¯s waiting for you. Probably you specifically.¡± He cocked a finger gun at James. ¡°Want a bodyguard for this? Not too late to just set everything on fire.¡± ¡°Yes it is.¡± James said, voice suddenly hard. ¡°They¡¯re people, JP.¡± ¡°They could be really shitty people.¡± JP said blandly. James sighed. ¡°Alex, Sunny, you¡¯re with me. We¡¯re doing *actual diplomacy*, okay? So, you know, pay attention, let me know through the link if you notice anything I should know about, but don¡¯t be antagonistic.¡± ¡°I would never-!¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Frequency cut off Alex, rotating like an uncoiling spring to rise up to her normal height and bobbing her head solemnly. ¡°Alex understands too.¡± ¡°I-!¡± ¡°Good.¡± James said, smiling. ¡°But seriously, Alex, I know you¡¯re fine. Just don¡¯t say anything stupid. That¡¯s my job.¡± James waited until he got an affirmative nod from Alex, the girl¡¯s expression going from jokingly belligerent to serious and ready to go in a split second. He returned the nod, and rolled out of the back of the van to his feet, looking where JP nodded to see a tall Japanese man in a loose tan suit sporting truly impressive sideburns waiting at the end of the nearby house¡¯s front path. He looked up at the sky, shading his eyes. Checking his phone would have been easier to get the actual time, honestly, but knowing it was getting well into midday was basically all he wanted anyway. James took a breath of the fresh air, flavored differently to what he was used to at home, and then focused his sight on the waiting figure, and started walking forward. Feet hit the ground behind him as Alex followed, Frequency coming after her a couple seconds later. James didn¡¯t look back, but saw through his skulljack link as the two of them formed up on either side of him like a vanguard. ¡°Hey.¡± He said to the man at the end of the path, the one he knew wasn¡¯t quite human anymore. ¡°Are you the representative?¡± ¡°No.¡± The potion thing said with an economical shake of its head. ¡°We have decided. Please¡­ come inside. We will talk.¡± He sounded like he thought this was a terrible idea, but was going along with it anyway. James gave a polite nod. ¡°Alright. Lead the way.¡± The occupied man turned sharply, and walked ahead, pausing to hold the door open for James. He didn¡¯t say anything about the two behind him, so it seemed a pair of guests were okay. James pinged a confirmation through his skulljack back to Dave and JP that everything was fine so far, and stepped into the house. The polite ¡®thank you¡¯ that Frequency-Of-Sunlight said as she passed the held open door made him realize that he¡¯d just encountered a real moral dilemma. Was he supposed to take his shoes off? He always took his shoes off in homes. But he might have to throw himself through a window at a moment¡¯s notice here. What was the protocol? Fortunately, the decision was made for him. ¡°This way.¡± The man said, walking through the entry hallway, past a curving staircase, shoes still on. James sighed in relief and followed. He made a mental note as he passed by a wrought iron side table with what looked like a pretty extensive ikebana arrangement on it, and took similar notice of the photos of a coastline on the wall. Then they were in a wide open room, where the polished hardwood floor met carpet, and a trio of couches had been arranged in a pleasant semi-circle around the core of the room. Small touches made the place feel like a real home; details on the walls, the well used dishes of snacks laid out on the counter separating the space from the kitchen, the general atmosphere just felt comfy. Eight other human shaped individuals, and one golden retriever, filled the space. Either sitting on the couches, or standing rather rigidly in a few spots around the room. The woman who James had first greeted at the front door, presumable owner of the house, was standing looking out the glass door to the back patio, and didn¡¯t even turn as James entered. The Alchemist who they¡¯d tailed here - ex-Alchemist, maybe - was sitting closest to the cold fireplace, rounded glass goblet of some amber liquid perched in his hand. As they walked in, several of the seated people stood wordlessly, vacating the couch that sat opposite the others to move to other seating arrangements. ¡°Please, sit.¡± The man who¡¯d led James in said. James looked around again, letting his brain absorb the ambiance of the room, and the small details of the building. Then he shrugged, and moved through them, unable to avoid noticing how everyone he passed tensed up, taking a seat on the padded white cloth of the empty couch. Behind him, Alex leaned on the back of the piece of furniture, while Frequency simply coiled up to the side. Only a few of the people here were looking at him. Most of them were finding things to stare at out the windows or on the wall, or just looking down at their own hands. The dog was in some kind of staring contest with Frequency-Of-Sunlight, which it probably wouldn¡¯t win. The atmosphere was, in a single word, tense. The room was dominated by people in their early twenties, with only a few outliers. ¡°Okay.¡± James broke the awkward silence. ¡°We have some things to talk about.¡± He looked around at the group, before asking something that had been on his mind. ¡°Quick check, are you a hive mind of some kind? Should I be addressing you as a group?¡± ¡°Do you not-¡° An early twenties girl in a hoodie sporting tour dates for a metal band started, before being cut off. The Alchemist James had riled up weeks ago spoke. ¡°No, we aren¡¯t.¡± He said with a sigh. ¡°He doesn¡¯t know. Obviously.¡± He spoke to the group at large, taking a swallow of his drink. ¡°Hey again Columbia.¡± He started. ¡°And yeah, that¡¯s sort of the problem.¡± James said. ¡°We don¡¯t know anything. Except that we know, vaguely, where you all come from. And honestly, that¡¯s scary, but I¡¯m kind of getting the vibe that you aren¡¯t the civilization ending threat that we thought you were. So I¡¯m trying to be polite, and part of that is knowing how to address you.¡± He paused. ¡°Look, I¡¯m kind of new to this. You¡¯re all obviously on edge. Why don¡¯t you ask *me* questions?¡± ¡°You may call me Kando.¡± The Japanese man said from the kitchen counter he was leaning on. ¡°Are you here to kill us?¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t really planning on it.¡± James said. ¡°So, you¡¯re all individuals? Why the weird quiet and short sentences? Oh, we were wiretapping the house. Actually sorry about that, feels like a shitty invasion of privacy now.¡± He rubbed his hands together in an awkward motion, like he could somehow wring the discomfort out. The Alchemist with Columbia as a pseudonym met James¡¯ eyes, and something *shifted* slightly. Like a veil pulled just an inch to the side to show off something underneath. ¡°We are new.¡± He said in a dull, empty tone. ¡°When we are our true selves, we have no history. No development. So short sentences, less personality.¡± He blinked, and suddenly, was who he had been the whole time. In a much deeper voice with some frustrated resentment in it, the old man continued, ¡°So when you¡¯re around to fake it to, we¡¯ll use the faces, okay? Just save us all a headache.¡± ¡°Mmh. You sure?¡± James said, raising his eyebrows. ¡°I¡¯m fine with it if you want to be yourselves. I am literally the last person on the planet who would judge you for not being human.¡± ¡°We are human.¡± Three of them chorused at once in that dull tone. It didn¡¯t sound angry, but somehow, James could feel the ire baked into the statement. He nodded. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m fine with that.¡± ¡°You said we could ask you questions.¡± The homeowner said, finally turning to face him, a wavering expression on her face. ¡°Why did you track us down, if you didn¡¯t know what we were?¡± ¡°Well, to be clear, we tracked down him.¡± James pointed at Columbia. ¡°And then spooked him enough that he collected you. Who we¡¯ve been watching for a little while, but decided to contact now.¡± He stopped himself before saying more that might give away the limits of their information. ¡°As for why? Well, Columbia more or less knows, and I assume told you. Sometime in the last year, a friend of mine purchased a potion from the Guild of Alchemists, which tried to kill me. They said it would cure depression, and I suppose that is *technically* correct.¡± ¡°The worst kind of correct.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said smoothly from her spot on his left. The room looked startled when she spoke. James ignored them and kept talking. ¡°Yes, exactly. So, that began our espionage campaign against the Alchemists. Which has led us to here, now. And the question of what to do about a situation where they¡¯re selling potions that kill people, and seem to either don¡¯t know, or don¡¯t care.¡± He looked around the room at the chaotic collection of people. ¡°So, I guess now it¡¯s my question. And I really need to know. What *are* you? And not just the basics, but, what¡¯s the story here?¡± He said into the quiet air. And then leaned forward to patiently wait for an answer. The group shared a number of silent glances, blank faces giving away nothing. The silence of the room aside from rustling clothes and the sound of people shifting on couch cushions would have been overwhelming if James wasn¡¯t spending a chunk of his brainpower reading messages through his skulljack from the others. ¡°They sure seem to be communicating for people who aren¡¯t a hive mind.¡± Alex sent. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Are they lying about anything?¡± Frequency asked. ¡°We should ask questions we already know the answer to.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, also, they were startled to see Sunny.¡± Alex added. ¡°They¡¯re not used to weird shit. They might think they¡¯re unique.¡± ¡°Well, had thought, anyway.¡± James added, keeping most of his focus on the silent room. And then, the woman who owned this house stepped forward and spoke up. ¡°The Alchemists made us to be weapons.¡± She said. ¡°Ah.¡± James¡¯ blood went cold. ¡°So they are killing people on purpose, huh?¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t track.¡± JP sent through the link, watching from outside. ¡°The other Alchemists were legitimately confused about it.¡± And in a few words, the woman speaking validated that. She shook her head, and continued. ¡°They don¡¯t know. That their project worked, that any of us are alive. We are¡­ a side effect.¡± ¡°A fortunately profitable failure.¡± Columbia¡¯s voice was grimly bitter. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°I think I¡¯m seeing the picture.¡± ¡°We¡­¡± Columbia faltered, and then wiped away the emotion to speak in his other, timeless voice, ¡°They were trying to brew a substance that would turn anyone. Instant conversion. Sell to governments, intelligence agencies, drug cartels, warlords, anyone. Who would not want the power to make your worst enemy share their secrets willingly? Die for you willingly? They had a marketing campaign ready.¡± They talked at a steady pace, not pausing when humans normally would. ¡°The first test was a perfect success.¡± James gave a pitying frown. ¡°You?¡± He asked. Someone else spoke up instead. A young man who looked almost perfectly nondescript. Short brown hair, sports jacket, jeans, absolutely normal, and quiet up until then. ¡°Me.¡± He said, in the same dull non-voice. The woman behind the couch spoke again. ¡°And then me.¡± ¡°And me.¡± A scarred blonde woman chimed in. ¡°And me.¡± A young man with a pair of tattoo sleeves added his voice. ¡°I came later.¡± Columbia continued the story, switching back to human. ¡°The problem with making a potion that turns someone into the perfect infiltrator¡­¡± He gave a sardonic grin, and downed the rest of his drink. ¡°Well. Turns out, we didn¡¯t know a damn thing about what we were doing. Par for the course, really. The subjects lied, well enough that the Guild assumed they¡¯d made a totally different potion. A few more tests, and we had a product that was expensive to make, had a limited market, and just wasn¡¯t really worth producing a lot of.¡± He glanced over at the homeowner. ¡°Our plan worked.¡± She said. ¡°No more of us. We thought.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± James cupped his hand around his mouth, as he thought. ¡°So what *are* you? Are you¡­ okay, when you¡¯re the potion, are you alive? Or is that just a catalyst for change? Is there anything left of who you were? Because if you¡¯ve got all their memories and feelings¡­ how is that different from being them?¡± He let his thoughts wander slightly to a question that had been bothering him, and gave it voice. One of the potion people shook his head. ¡°We can see who our victim was.¡± They said. ¡°But it is distant.¡± His voice switched to more human, and in a cheerful Mexican accent he added, ¡°Like how reading Sherlock Holmes doesn¡¯t make you a druggie detective.¡± ¡°Well, not right away, obviously.¡± James gleefully returned the snark, before realizing that it¡­ wasn¡¯t real. Not really. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, face slowly falling. ¡°So, you¡¯re new people, then. Just¡­ with a record of the body you¡¯re in?¡± ¡°Correct.¡± Columbia said. ¡°The book metaphor is good, actually. Because on a long enough timeline, we can understand the feelings of our victim. Though we often don¡¯t have time alone to consider. And it takes us time.¡± ¡°You keep saying ¡®victim¡¯.¡± James pointed out, taking a cue from Alex. ¡°Can we go back to the earlier question? Are you alive when your potion is brewed?¡± ¡°No.¡± The homeowner said, shaking her head in an elegantly precise movement. ¡°We become aware at the moment they are beyond recovery.¡± ¡°So, why are there so many of you? Are you all test subjects? Also, and I need to ask, why the dog?¡± Everyone in James¡¯ link breathed a sigh of relief as he finally asked about the dog. There were multiple messages in his vision about that. Again it was the Alchemist who explained. ¡°We didn¡¯t *stop*, boy.¡± He said bitterly. ¡°Oh, we convinced the Guild, through lies and through my own words as lead on the experiment, that it wouldn¡¯t do to sell the potions to spies and murderers. I put more effort into making it only appear occult to those with mental health disorders than I did into researching the base brew when I was myself. But they wanted to keep making them. I made it expensive, but not impossible.¡± He shrugged, setting his empty glass onto a side table as he switched back to non-tone. ¡°There were several more made. Sold to wealthy concerned parents,¡± he nodded to the young woman in the hoodie, ¡°or to mentally collapsing executives,¡± a gesture toward Kando, ¡°or, once we organized ourselves, bought by us through proxy. Securing as many as we could, to keep them unused.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s good.¡± James said. ¡°Worrying, kind of. How many¡­ no, wait. The dog?¡± ¡°We wanted to know if we could coexist.¡± The Hispanic kid said. ¡°So we tried guiding the process. Didn¡¯t work. Just made another us.¡± He reached down to pet the dog¡¯s head, but the motion was mechanical. So was the dog¡¯s reaction, a wagged tail that was too rote to be a real reaction. James watched with a feeling in his chest somewhere between empathy and distress. His thoughts in conflict with each other as he sat on the normal couch in the normal home and faced almost a dozen constructed life forms that required a death to be born. He¡¯d already decided they were people. What made a person, in the end? It wasn¡¯t the body; there were plenty of people James knew personally with bodies far from human. And even besides that, infomorphs didn¡¯t even have bodies beyond the grey matter they borrowed, and they were often people. It wasn¡¯t the way they viewed the world. Again, infomorphs saw the world in different colors of idea. Planner saw things as schedules and dates, Hidden saw things as secret places and escape routes. Pathfinder, and the growing cartomorph in James¡¯ mind, saw the world as a series of journeys and destinations, a series of small adventures. It certainly wasn¡¯t their point of origin. James had met too many people who devalued even human lives just because of what side of a line on a map they were born on. And he had no interest in joining their shitty ranks. So these were people. But the question now was¡­ ¡°Alright.¡± James said. ¡°What do you need?¡± They all stilled, the veneer of humanity they wore like masks slipping slightly as the creatures inhabiting the bodies processed that. ¡°What?¡± Someone asked. ¡°What do you need?¡± James restated. ¡°You guys aren¡¯t responsible for the actions of the Alchemists, you aren¡¯t killers. From what I can tell, and what my rogue tells me, you¡¯re all more or less trying to live normal lives. Except Columbia, who I assume is still an Alchemist for¡­ cover? Sabotage?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Right. So, what I¡¯m mainly seeing here is that you are, collectively, victims yourselves. And you¡¯re constantly paranoid about being found out. Also, you said something about keeping a stockpile of more of your own origin potions, so that¡¯s also an issue. And¡­ I mean¡­¡± He shrugged, and looked at his two allies in the room. Alex leaned forward on the couch, putting her weight on her own crossed arms. ¡°We help people!¡± She cheerfully added. ¡°Pathologically.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight supplemented the conversation with a nod. Everyone looked like they really wanted to ask about the camraconda. But James had other conversation plans. ¡°So, *I* almost died to the process that makes one of you, and that¡¯s an issue. But it¡¯s not your fault. You¡¯re as much victims of this as the people who have died. The Alchemists are killing people, and they¡¯re doing it because they tried to make life to be a tool. We have a *very* strong policy about that.¡± His voice was hard. ¡°So we¡¯re going to have to deal with that. Columbia, or however you¡¯d prefer to be addressed, your help would be appreciated there. But in the meantime¡­ I mean, you¡¯re functionally refugees.¡± He said. ¡°The Alchemists are almost certainly aware something is up, and that¡¯s *our fault*. So we¡¯re here to help fix that, and keep you all safe.¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how you feel about the lives you¡¯re living. Do you have families? Jobs? Do you *like them*? We¡¯re gonna have to talk about this. Work some stuff out. But fundamentally, I want you all to be okay.¡± He checked a message through his link, and then added, ¡°And also we have a. vault we can keep the potions in, along with the one that almost killed me, until such time as we find a way to hatch them properly.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ properly being without killing anyone.¡± Alex clarified, as she realized James had gotten sidetracked by his line of thinking and hadn¡¯t made that explicit. The woman in the stylish dress that looked like it had been spawned by the concentrated essence of the 90s gave him a long look. ¡°You don¡¯t act like a normal secret society.¡± She said flatly. ¡°Well, we¡¯re not a secret, for one thing.¡± James quipped. ¡°*Very* bad at the secret keeping.¡± Then he realized what she¡¯d said. ¡°Also how many secret societies do you know of? Aside from the Alchemists.¡± ¡°None. So as far as we know, they¡¯re normal.¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± James chuckled, ignoring that it hadn¡¯t been a joke. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re offering.¡± The dog spoke up. And now it was James¡¯ turn to blink with mild surprise. Only mild, though. ¡°How do you talk, as a dog?¡± He asked. ¡°I have a roommate who¡¯d probably like to know.¡± A quick ping from Alex came through his link, and he got a series of short clips of them talking. Before anyone could answer him, he made the connection. ¡°Wait, how are any of you talking, without actually moving your mouths?¡± ¡°We are inside the bodies.¡± The golden retriever told him. ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll table that for later.¡± James sighed. ¡°What do you think I¡¯m offering?¡± Columbia paused in pouring himself more brandy to face James and speak with his dull voice. ¡°You offer to stand against the Alchemists. You do not understand what that means. What they do.¡± ¡°Make potions?¡± Alex spoke up sarcastically. James waved a quieting hand at her. ¡°No, hang on. Think about it.¡± He addressed the potion people. ¡°You said you were made to be *weapons*. That kind of implies that research and development is ongoing in the Alchemist manor, huh?¡± ¡°Correct.¡± Columbia said. ¡°You think they are old men selling minor magic. You do not know what weapons they have stockpiled.¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯d like to.¡± James said, trying not to roll his eyes at JP¡¯s internal request-slash-demand that he pry that information out. ¡°I know that they¡¯ve got something that allows for selective corporeality, which is neat. But I mostly did assume a lot of the potions they sold were minor things.¡± ¡°We sell what we can make on the cheap.¡± Columbia¡¯s human voice took over, and he finished pouring his drink, before offering the bottle around the room to the others who looked at him with not-quite-human eyes and a degree of alien frustration. ¡°A lot of that crap, costs a lot to make, so it¡¯s not even worth selling to Blackwater or Castle. We keep it and use it to make nobels.¡± James leaned back, throwing his arms over the back of the couch. ¡°So there¡¯s a bunch of high burst foot soldiers, huh?¡± He mused. ¡°I mean¡­ how many do they employ, anyway? We have *some* experience with this, it¡¯s not a dealbreaker.¡± ¡°Sixteen of the things. Always.¡± Kando said, bitterly. ¡°He killed one, once.¡± A tired looking wisp of a woman spoke from the corner of another couch. ¡°They just replaced it.¡± Frequency pinged their link. ¡°They keep saying it or thing.¡± She mentioned. ¡°Nonhumans?¡± ¡°Probably modified humans. Slave soldiers?¡± Alex¡¯s words showed disgust through the text. James sighed, rolled his shoulder to alleviate stiffness, and addressed the room. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not gonna let that stop us. Still in your corner. We¡¯ve got-¡° ¡°James.¡± JP¡¯s voice came through the link, an interruption and not a message. All three members of the Order turned as a unit to look back toward the front door, the sudden cutoff of conversation, drawing concerned looks from the others in the room. ¡°The police are here.¡± ¡°Why?¡± James said out loud, and to JP. ¡°Why wh-¡° ¡°Not you.¡± Alex silenced the question from Columbia. JP¡¯s response put James on edge instantly. ¡°They¡¯re claiming the van was reported stolen by the company that owns it.¡± ¡°The fake plumbing company?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Uh oh.¡± James and Frequency said out loud at once. James continued. ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡± ¡°Cooperating. But they¡¯re gonna open the back in a second. Also, Ben¡¯s not reporting in; at least one of our rogues is missing.¡± JP paused. ¡°I don¡¯t think this is normal, I don¡¯t want to send Dave and Pen away if it¡¯s gonna get hot. How do you want it handled?¡± James stood off the couch, ignoring the flinches from the potions. ¡°Something¡¯s up.¡± He announced. ¡°Ready check.¡± He pulled up the menu for his shield bracer, noting that he had a full twenty blocks, and four switches to new threats ready to go. Then reached back and adjusted his holster, made sure his gun was in reach. ¡°Do the Alchemists know about this place?¡± ¡°They shouldn¡¯t.¡± Columbia said. ¡°But you shouldn¡¯t either.¡± ¡°We were followed?¡± Someone said in a quiet whimper. ¡°You brought them to my home?¡± The tall woman¡¯s voice was in the dead potion tone, but had a strange warble of emotion to it. Which made sense, somewhat; she was one of the oldest. She¡¯d been learning. Alex and Frequency-Of-Sunlight nodded to James as they made sure they were prepared. ¡°Full on breath.¡± Alex said. ¡°Stay behind me when someone starts shooting at you.¡± James didn¡¯t bother to deny that was a likely situation. ¡°Okay. JP? Breakthrough tactic. Overwhelm them, get ready for teleports home. Links open. Stall for two minutes, then go. Columbia, or¡­ ma¡¯am I don¡¯t know your name.¡± ¡°May.¡± The homeowner said simply. ¡°May. Get the potions you have stockpiled. Everyone get up, we¡¯re getting out of here before it¡¯s too-¡° From the street in front of the house, there was a bellowing roar, and the popping of gunfire. It was, perhaps, already starting to be too late. James watched through his skulljack as Dave and Pendragon exploded out of the back of the van, slamming the two muscled, bald figures in police uniforms to the street. They were both wearing the fancy looking face masks that looked like cyberpunk rebreather things, but their eyes shimmered with anger as they glared at the the dragon holding them. Before one of them slipped out, then the other, briefly fading to vapor under her claws to roll sideways and reform slightly farther away, guns already out and shooting again. ¡°Oh yeah!¡± James bit the words out. ¡°They know you¡¯re here!¡± The people in the room jerked to their feet, trying to spread out, looking to each other and the members of the Order with blank and confused expressions. Only Kando, tan suit jacket hanging open, grip of a handgun visible in his waistband, seemed like he was at all prepared for the chaos. ¡°Everyone get moving to the front! We¡¯re gonna evacuate you all! Wait for them to disable the ghost cops before you leave the build-!¡± The side window in the kitchen exploded inward. Frequency-Of-Sunlight, whipping her head around with lightning reflexes, zeroed in on a small object just before it dipped below the kitchen counter in her view. A grey cylinder with a metal handle coming off it. A grenade of some kind, maybe non-lethal, but not good. ¡°I got it!¡± Alex ducked past someone who was stumbling toward the door, the wordless motions of the potion people making an eerie scene as they all moved without speaking. She checked line of sight through her link with Sunny, then grabbed the grenade in a way that didn¡¯t obscure anything, and started leveraging herself against it. When the camraconda ¡®let go¡¯ of the object, Alex felt a spike of pain in her hand as she absorbed the force it had been holding onto, and then applied her own in reverse, flinging it back out the window before it exploded in a burst of sound and light a second later, the noise loud enough that it left her ears ringing. The next volley held three more of the flashbangs, and came from two other windows. The house was thoroughly surrounded. James stood in the hall, trying to usher people toward the front door. Alex was covering the back, and he saw her shield flare suddenly through the link and the corner of his eye. The sound of small arms fire filled the house as Kando took a stance at the shattered kitchen window, firing through with his handgun before a bullet hit him in the neck, a thick spray of scaled black blood exiting his body before slowly being pulled back in. He didn¡¯t stop shooting except to reload. ¡°Go!¡± The thing wearing the form of a Japanese businessman said in an empty voice. ¡°There are nobels. I will hold them.¡± ¡°Three people in the garden, closing in!¡± Alex reported after peaking the window. ¡°Nine mil SMGs, they all look like the dudes up front!¡± James tried to breath, and found himself coming up short. Things were getting too chaotic, too fast. There were five threats around the building, with the element of surprise. They needed to get out, now, and regroup. He had one telepad, JP had another, Dave the third. Just barely enough for everyone, and they couldn¡¯t afford to split their forces. Tactical decision, and quick. Alex and Frequency could hold the house behind them, he needed to clear the way through the front. He spoke the command over the tactical link, and started moving, gun already in his hand, to the front of the silent pack of human shaped people. They looked like they were equal parts terrified, and resigned, as the sounds of combat picked up around them. James dashed through the front hall of the house toward the door to give JP and Dave some support, and was a bit surprised when a humanoid figure in grey-black fatigues blurred through the wall under the stairs to his right, and swung a glowing red right hook at his head. ¡°Nobel!¡± Someone yelled. His eyes widened as he managed to mentally scream at his bracer to switch to blocking ¡®punches¡¯, but didn¡¯t have the time to hope that would work before it connected. The golden dome of light around him was blinding, but James kept his eyes open as it soaked the blow, and miraculously deflected the secondary effect too, though not the stomach-churning blast of noise that came with it. When the dome dropped, the hallway around him had been blasted away; varnished wood splintered away in a semicircle around where his shield had sprung up, edges of what was once a structure glowing cherry red, some of it straight up on fire. ¡°Oh!¡± James exclaimed as he realized what had happened. His gun was already aimed in a one handed stance when the shield came down, and he just unloaded repeated burst fire shots into the man standing before him, only having enough time to realize that most of them were just phasing through before another punch was sent his way. A quick left jab that James just shot, rapidly shifting targets. These bullets actually landed, drawing too-small pricks of red out of the oncoming burning arm before his shield triggered again. James tried to pivot, to slam the man into the wall, and was half successful. When the shield flashed down a second later, the house was even *more* on fire around him, the chandelier in the entry hall making glass chimes as it rattled overhead. But at least his target was half buried in a wall. ¡°Everyone go!¡± He yelled, closing the gap as he kept shooting. He had *plenty* of gun bangle charges, and he could at least keep the bastard pinned down. People started running past him for the front door, and James had no time to focus on them. His opponent lurched back to his feet, breathing heavy through his gas mask. Long, hissing gasps as he took stock of James. ¡°Yo.¡± James said, mugging for time as two more people slipped past behind him, trying desperately not to think about the fact that he was standing in the middle of a small ring of burning building. ¡°So, you want to try¡­¡± The man sucked in a breath, a small plume of vapor coming out of his mask, and his skin warped into a stony substance, one fist starting to glow red again while the other brought an MP5 up to bear down the hallway. ¡°Nope!¡± James flicked a hand, and the chunk of asphalt he¡¯d pulled from the road spiked through the gun and wrap around it in a ball around the man¡¯s hand, his own reloaded pistol taking another trio of burst shots into the man¡¯s annoying ethereal face before his enemy took another swing. James braced for the shield to flare up, but then the Alchemist foot soldier held back his hit, and *kicked James in the stomach*. James slid back into the burning wall, knocking over a potion person as he coughed up a mouthful of spit. He wanted to know how everyone was doing, but he had to cover the last two people out the door. Everyone else was spilling out into the street, and he heard a roar and the scream of metal as Pendragon threw a car at someone. They were *fine*. They had a dragon. He had a pistol and an immortal angry ghost trying to kill him. The man stepped over him, aiming another kick to James¡¯ head. James dropped his pistol, and caught it in both hands, before the leg turned to mist, and the man flipped it back down to bring a knee up to his neck instead. James grabbed it, and rapidly yanked the enemy fighter off balance, using the force to start rolling forward, sweeping his pistol up as he went by. This fight was going nowhere. He could do this all day, thanks to Endurance at its second mark, but he couldn¡¯t *kill* this guy. ¡°One down!¡± JP pinged over their link. James was barely processing everything going on. The fight had gotten rapidly out of hand. But he could see Alex and Frequency¡¯s view shift as they pulled back from the back of the house, and started moving toward the front door. Toward him, and the two potion people cut off from their escape. One of his opponent¡¯s hands was still encased in road; maybe it holding the gun was what was keeping it stuck, James didn¡¯t know or care. But he did know he had to shift the fight out of the way so the last people could get out. His opponent had clearly figured out that he probably couldn¡¯t kill James right away either. So, uncaring of James¡¯ interference, he pivoted and slammed his fist into the closest potion person who was trying to find an opening to get by. James screamed something, opened fire, but his bullets barely moved the arm that he could actually hit while it was in flight. Then the strike connected, and he got to see the explosion of flame from two angles as the ball of fire spilled over him, Alex, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight all at once. It stung, and he felt splinters pelting his exposed skin, but it was fast and didn¡¯t kill him. But he hadn¡¯t been at the center of the blast. When it cleared, the two people who¡¯d been holding back at the mouth of the hallway were just *gone*. They¡¯d died silently, without even screaming. The support beam overhead creaking as it swung down and phased through the monster standing there. The man who¡¯d just murdered two people, without a word. ¡°*Red light*!¡± Frequency screamed from down the hallway. And then a screaming Alex slammed a kitchen knife through the man¡¯s jaw, just as James shot him in the head repeatedly. A human turned into a gory mess of meat in a heartbeat, blood and brain matter spraying into the building that was now burning in earnest. ¡°Scratch two.¡± James horasely spoke over the link. ¡°JP, situation?¡± ¡°JP¡¯s out.¡± Dave said. ¡°I¡¯m covering the last one out here. Pen says actually EMS are coming in, minutes at most.¡± He sounded calm even as James could feel him reloading and firing again. ¡°What do you want us to do?¡± ¡°Telepad out with the rest. We¡¯ve got the house.¡± James said, fumbling his own telepad out with stinging fingers. In the hallway, Alex threw up, leaning against a crumbling wall, ignoring the splinters. ¡°Kando¡¯s dead.¡± She coughed out. ¡°We¡¯re it. There¡¯s two more coming.¡± To punctuate her words, a flashbang went off in the kitchen. ¡°May ran upstairs.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s move.¡± ¡°Here.¡± A voice from overhead caught his attention, and he looked up to see the woman whose home was burning around them standing behind the upstairs railing, holding a briefcase. ¡°Had to get them.¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯m ready. We can-¡± Her voice was cut off as a hand reached out of the wall behind her, and grabbed around her neck. She didn¡¯t even react, except to meet James¡¯ eyes, and release the briefcase over the edge of the upper floor, just before the masked soldier flexed his hand, and she collapsed in a boneless heap. Still breathing, James noticed. That didn¡¯t bode well. Frequency grabbed the briefcase while James laid down suppressive fire up the stairs, and Alex took his telepad, scrambling to write their destination on it. ¡°R-ready!¡± She yelled. ¡°Look out!¡± Frequency cried as James tried to get close to them. From down the hall, from the living room that had been so homey and normal not even five minutes ago, a masked bald man in grey black fatigues was charging forward toward them, green light simmering out of the skin of a cocked fist. In a smooth motion, Alex flipped the telepad back, to be caught by James, stood to her full five foot five height, braced her feet, and extended a single flat palm toward the charging brute. Then she *breathed*. James hadn¡¯t ever actually asked what spell she¡¯d gotten from the mountain; from the book he¡¯d made from his own Endurance power. In a flash, the temperature of the whole house plummeted. The fire burning around them fighting the sharp and sudden chill. Alex shifted slightly, like she wasn¡¯t sure of where her feet were, and then, twitched her hand just enough to catch the thrown empowered punch. Just as she breathed out, and her spell took hold, for just the barest instant. She timed it perfectly. The attack stopped. Just stopped. It wasn¡¯t deflected, or canceled, or grounded out. It *stopped*. For one moment, she was inviolable, immovable, *invincible*. Then her mana ran out, and she half collapsed back to be grabbed by Frequency and dragged to the floor next to the corpse they¡¯d made, thrown down at James¡¯ knelt feet. The attacker didn¡¯t fare so well. It turned out, when something stopped a mass of kinetic energy, that energy had to *go somewhere*. Just before Alex fell, the assailant¡¯s arm and half his torso *pulverized*, a spray of blood and bone chunks thrown backward by the rebound of punching what might as well have been a mountain. Down the hall, the other soldier paused, showing the first sign of concern so far. Behind them, James saw an older man in a pressed black suit stepping through the wreckage of the patio door, dusting himself off like he was on a park stroll, not walking into a battlefield. James recognized him from one of JP¡¯s intelligence briefings. Alchemist Amazon. One of the upper echelon of the reclusive gang of wealthy monsters. James wrapped a leg around Alex, tagged a hand on Frequency¡¯s head, gave the Alchemist the middle finger with his hand holding the briefcase, and tore the telepad with his teeth. This was gonna be a bigger mess than normal. Chapter 183 ¡°At the end of the game, the king and the pawn go back in the same box.¡± - John Boys, Dean of Canterbury - _____ James hit the telepad intake platform in a crouched position that didn¡¯t make much spatial sense now that he didn¡¯t have his knee planted on the chest of a corpse. Instantly, he started to tumble forward, inadvertently shoving Frequency-Of-Sunlight to the side as he lost his balance. The leg that he¡¯d linked with Alex to be in contact with her while teleporting was suddenly a huge liability, and before anyone could catch him, he slammed into the floor, clipping his funny bone with the corner of the briefcase he was still holding in a white knuckled grip. ¡°Ow.¡± James said breathlessly. ¡°Fuck. Ow.¡± ¡°Oh god.¡± Alex gasped out from the smooth concrete floor. ¡°Ahh, my leg!¡± Her voice rose to a much more urgent level as the pain of James twisting her knee caught up to her. He pulled himself forward, setting the briefcase down as softly as he could as he untangled himself from Alex. ¡°Fuck, sorry.¡± James yelped. ¡°Sir. Do you need a hand?¡± A voice said from overhead. James looked up, mostly to see dark skin and a crooked nose. He blinked rapidly, trying to get his eyes to focus properly. ¡°He doesn¡¯t like it when we call him sir.¡± Daniel¡¯s voice came in from the side. ¡°Just kick him a little and if he¡¯s belligerent, it means he¡¯s fine and he¡¯ll get up on his own.¡± ¡°I¡¯m mad that you know me so well.¡± James groaned, extending an arm and letting the familiar face that came into focus give him a hand up. ¡°Oh, Tyrone. Right? Wait, am I getting that wrong?¡± ¡°Nope, that¡¯s me.¡± The young security guard from James¡¯ old job gave him a lopsided smile. ¡°Been a while, dude! How-¡° ¡°Not the time.¡± Daniel cut him off briskly. ¡°James, you¡¯re not the only person who teleported in. Can you fill us in?¡± It took a second for James to look around, and get a good view of the room. The room that he had, over the course of a few minutes, turned into a pretty chaotic environment. The six people, five shaped like humans and one in the form of a fairly nonplussed golden retriever, who they¡¯d gotten out of the house were clustered in a corner. Standing in what looked like a tense formation, almost. The reason was pretty apparent, as multiple members of Response had taken notice. Harvey, who was standing with crossed arms and looked very annoyed that this was interrupting something important. El, who looked a lot more concerned than James remembered seeing her be before. Ava, who was absolutely not supposed to be here and seemed to be hiding from everyone somehow. And at least two other whole teams who were either coming in or leaving on assignments when James had popped in and caused some chaos. They were in a sort of low-threat standoff with the new arrivals. ¡°They¡¯re fine.¡± James said, jerking a hand limply at the assembled group. ¡°They¡¯re evacuees. They¡¯re fine.¡± He repeated. ¡°Where¡¯s JP and Dave?¡± ¡°Not here.¡± Daniel said simply as everyone relaxed. Well, the members of the Order relaxed, many of them stepping back, though it was predictably in line with their curiosity that a lot of them hovered by the door to watch. ¡°They arrived first, then you.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± James said. ¡°JP said¡­ he and Dave must have taken off somewhere else.¡± He tried to catch his breath, looking around. Frequency-Of-Sunlight had recovered from the abrupt teleport easily, but was still twitching at every loud noise. Alex, though, had pulled her feet under herself and was still on the floor. ¡°Okay. Get me¡­ get me division representatives. Harvey, Karen, Reed¡­ uh¡­ Sarah, probably? Nate for sure. I¡¯ve got bad news.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ll meet in the briefing area. Public format. People need to know this one.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Daniel said, nodding. ¡°El, go get Reed. Ty, make calls.¡± When the two others gave him impressively bland *looks*, Daniel just threw his arms up. ¡°I¡¯m delegating! You both told me to delegate more!¡± ¡°This is what I look like from the outside.¡± James muttered. ¡°Okay. I need to-¡° He was cut off as a woman¡¯s voice very loud and equally commanding, ordered a gap be made in the small crowd at the door. James, still half-dazed, a numb buzzing in his hands from the gunfight he¡¯d been in not even ten minutes ago, felt a fresh spike of social panic as Deb stormed in, looking like she was prepared to violate the shit out of her Hippocratic oath. ¡°Sunny!¡± Deb¡¯s relieved yell cut off anything James had half-planned to say. ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡± ¡°Yes?¡± The camraconda girl stated it a question, before checking herself, and adding ¡°Yes.¡± As Deb lunged forward and wrapped the snake in a hug. ¡°I think I broke some arms.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said, leaning into her partner. ¡°That was not fun.¡± An instant later, Deb was on her feet, glaring at James. He had about a heartbeat¡¯s worth of warning, his eyes widening as he tried to say ¡°Wait, no!¡± But didn¡¯t quite get past the first letter before Deb¡¯s fist clashed with the flaring dome of golden light that the shield bracers produced. James hadn¡¯t switched his away since the fight, because¡­ well, no one had tried to shoot him yet. Though Deb seemed like she might be considering it. In the moment where everything was blinding, and no one could see him sigh, James took the second to compose himself. When the light dropped, he had his arms crossed and was glowering at Deb. ¡°Stop that.¡± He said flatly. ¡°That¡¯s not okay, we can have this conversation when there aren¡¯t people in trouble. Those six,¡± he pointed over at the group in the corner, ¡°might have injuries, and certainly need a quiet place to be checked over. Please assist them.¡± He pulled his hand back and folded his arms again, trying to keep his voice even. Deb glanced at the new arrivals, then back to James with the ugly glare still on her face, before her eyes softened and she looked back again at the refugee group. James also took a closer look at them, now that he had the chance, seeing that some of them had red burn marks on their skin, or were dripping small droplets of blood from where errant splinters had carved into them. ¡°I¡¯m really pissed at you.¡± Deb uttered to James. ¡°But we can do that later.¡± ¡°Probably should have done it sooner.¡± James said before he could stop himself. But he huffed out a breath and shook his head, instead of following up on that. ¡°Look, please check on them. I¡¯ve got to go¡­ something.¡± Deb had already turned and started calling much more even-toned orders to the Response personnel around. Getting the potion people a hand moving down to the newly expanded medical wing, clearing the room of everyone who was in the way, she had a lot more of a commanding presence than James did when he couldn¡¯t make his brain focus on anything for very long. But when he spoke, Deb paused and turned back to him, eyebrows raised. ¡°Are *you* hurt?¡± She asked. ¡°No, no. Just¡­ something.¡± James said, suddenly breathless. ¡°I just need to sit down.¡± He looked around at the room, still with almost a dozen people in it. ¡°Somewhere quiet.¡± Deb said something else, but James was having a hard time paying attention. He just nodded, hearing a rushing in his ears as he agreed to whatever she was saying. Somehow, he found himself sitting against a side wall next to Alex - he was pretty sure someone had helped him here - while the room emptied out. Alex wasn¡¯t doing much better than he was, really. She was rocking slightly, folding and unfolding her hands, and having about as much trouble breathing as James felt like he was. It focused him on the present rather quickly. ¡°You alright?¡± He asked, like an idiot. ¡°Nnnnot really.¡± Alex stammered. ¡°Wasn¡¯t expecting anything like that.¡± ¡°Same.¡± James agreed in a near whisper. He glanced down at Alex¡¯s hands, still covered in the blood of the gunman she¡¯d knifed. ¡°We should go get cleaned up.¡± He said. ¡°I have to go to a meeting. I think.¡± ¡°You think?¡± The absurdity broke through Alex¡¯s adrenaline crash anxiety, and drew a cracked giggle out of her. ¡°How do you not know?¡± ¡°I *obviously* don¡¯t know everything.¡± James said, gesturing at nothing. ¡°Also I didn¡¯t tell anyone when. So I think I have time.¡± He rolled his legs underneath himself, pitching forward to rise to a kneeling position. ¡°Want to come with me?¡± He offered Alex a hand up. She looked at the offered hand with a blank expression, looking down at her own bloodied hand and back to him before reaching out to take it, helping James push both of them to their feet. But Alex did have a question, which was, ¡°How¡­ are you so calm? About any of this?¡± ¡°Well, first off, my own despairing panic tends to get overridden by helping other people with theirs, so that¡¯s a thing.¡± James said in a fluid rush of words that he would feel hard pressed to replicate later. ¡°Also¡­ I mean, the Order is prepared for this.¡± ¡°You fucking liar.¡± Alex¡¯s words might have started as a joke, but they came out rough and harsh. ¡°Not¡­ okay, yeah, I mean, us. We¡¯re part of it.¡± James said as they made their way out to the hall, the Response crowd getting back to normal operations and James glad to let them do it. Still got some *looks* though. ¡°But.. we have a plan. A general outline. We¡¯ve done this¡­ before.¡± His voice cracked and he stopped talking as they headed for the elevator. ¡°Fuck, I should message Anesh and Alanna, let them know I¡¯m okay.¡± He fumbled for his phone, typing a hasty message as they waited for the elevator. ¡°Status Quo.¡± Alex said, distant look in her eyes. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Yeah. And the Sewer. And the Attic, even, before we knew more about it. Just¡­¡± James pocketed his phone, looking up at Alex with a deep exhaustion in his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not going to stop. There¡¯s always going to be another problem, right? But at least now, after having survived this much, we have a *plan*.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Alex sighed, partially in relief, partially in joking disbelief. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s *in* the ops manual, you know.¡± James couldn¡¯t hide a small grin as the elevator doors opened and they stepped in. Contrary to what *some* people might think, they actually did have a plan for situations like this. For general crises that the Order was either in a unique position to handle, or was the target of to begin with. Hell, when you got down to it, this was why Response was formed in the first place. Harvey¡¯s efforts to turn it into a peacekeeping and civil protection group that people actually *trusted* were going really well, and at the end of the day, the expansion was doing more good for the world than killing a single corrupted blight like Status Quo would, so James didn¡¯t complain. Not that it was his place to complain anyway; he¡¯d given up leadership to people better suited to lead, and that was fine. But in its core DNA, Response *was* the uniquely suited solution to some problems. Problems like Status Quo. Like the Mechanic. Like, apparently, the Alchemists had decided to be. The plan wasn¡¯t so much a plan as it was a protocol. A simple set of steps to determine exactly how hard they came down on the problem. First, assess. Learn their strengths and weaknesses, but more than that, learn their ideology, learn their desires. Learn everything they could about the potential enemy, or potential ally. This tied into the caveat that the Rogues were actually explicitly forbidden from being invasive or violating privacy against anything where there wasn¡¯t an actual known threat. No spying just to spy. They were allowed to ask questions; James wanted to live in a world where asking questions solved problems, and he was willing to put his money where his mouth was there. Speaking of mouths, step two was words. Establish a line of communication, and talk to the other side. Now, this was the pattern for responding to an *active crisis*, so a lot of the time this could be dangerous. Someone like James might be willing to walk into a building and ask for a meeting, but they couldn¡¯t count on that. So they had a few tricks for actually getting conversations started. And when conversation, and negotiation, failed, which it inevitably would sometimes, they preemptively knew what they were going to have to do. Rescue anyone who was in the line of fire, evacuate civilians or captives first. Minimize collateral. And then¡­ Remove the ability of the crisis to make war. To cause harm. Because at the end of the day, James was forced by experience to admit that he wouldn¡¯t be able to solve every problem by making friends. The reality of the world, laid bare by the cruel and cold false logic of Status Quo, was that some people would destroy and take and torture and kill and tell themselves that they were the heroes. Or, a far more insidious lie, tell themselves that they were *just doing what was necessary*, that it had to be done to keep the world safe, that if they didn¡¯t execute that child, someone else would. Or, perhaps, that no one else would, and that would be *bad*. And now, the Guild of Alchemists, or whatever they wanted to call themselves. Another shining example of the worst impulses of humanity. Custom crafting slave weapons, hoarding wealth, sitting back and watching the turmoil of the world flow by. Hurting when it suited them. Killing when it was convenient. James hated them. So much. Beyond what he¡¯d known was his capacity for rage. He felt it churning in his gut; a base desire to take these monsters that dressed themselves up as righteous men, and annihilate them. Tear them to pieces. Exercise the worst violence he could bring to bear on them until there was nothing left but the dark stains on the carpet, and the inferno closing in to take that evidence of their brutal passing away too. And the worst part is, James doubted anyone would tell him not to, if he led a terminal crusade against them. He caught himself against the concrete wall as he stepped off the elevator into a different basement level, slamming his forehead into his arm as he leaned forward, torn between trying to catch his breath, crying, or expelling whatever he¡¯d eaten last onto the floor. He couldn¡¯t do the last one. Someone would get annoyed. Janitorial work was a communal effort around here. ¡°Hey?¡± Alex¡¯s voice came to him. ¡°You¡­ okay?¡± She asked. Like an idiot. James gave his own manic laugh. ¡°Aahhhhh!¡± He thumped his head into the wall again. ¡°Nope!¡± He decided. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± How could he possibly be okay? People kept trying to kill him! And he kept fighting back. And¡­ and¡­ ¡°I do not think I am okay, no.¡± He told Alex. ¡°This has been a bad day.¡± He added. ¡°Oh yeah?¡± She asked. ¡°Well, I woke up today and hit my shin on the shelf next to the bed. So I understand.¡± James stared at her for a long moment, uncomprehending, until his brain caught up. And he realized that Alex probably understood exactly what it meant to put aside your own mental panic to help someone else. A real smile cracked his face, and he stood back up, taking a deep breath, before he nodded to her solemnly. ¡°Yes.¡± He said. ¡°A travesty. We¡¯ll organize a unit to make sure the shelf is reduced to cinders.¡± ¡°My shelf!¡± Alex exclaimed theatrically. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m okay.¡± He nodded. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Alex shrugged, looking away. They continued toward the pool room through the underhalls of the Lair in companionable quiet, mostly because James had to reply to about fifty rapid fire messages from his partners demanding to know how badly he¡¯d gotten himself hurt this time. James just focused on staying calm, dealing with the small task of getting the blood out of his hair, and sorting out his thoughts for when he would have to tell everyone in half an hour that he¡¯d gotten the Order into another small war. He had a finite amount of time to try to relax. Which made relaxing predictably challenging. But he still had some energy left in him to try. _____ ¡°Our boyfriend...¡± Anesh started, looking down at his phone as he sat across from Alanna in the dining area. Alanna was busy filling out paperwork, reviewing skulljack recordings of Response operations and catching up on reports about them. Harvey had *very* quickly gotten them into the good habit of documenting, knowing damn well that the future was uncertain, and a culture of keeping good records was a culture that was more resistant to corruption. Or at least, where it was easier to pick out if a Response member started abusing their position or power. Denying that they had power was laughable. Alanna was almost bulletproof, and could teleport. Pretending that she wasn¡¯t would be stupid. But she also loved that it didn¡¯t translate to the Order actually giving her a social position. Response was important, and respected, but that respect rose out of direct admiration for the things they did. It wasn¡¯t baked in, and it didn¡¯t come without responsibility. Responsibility that she actually loved having. When they¡¯d first told Alanna about the dungeons and their magic, her partners had been nervous that she¡¯d chastise them for not using it to do enough. But all those years ago, Alanna hadn¡¯t even had a good idea of what ¡®enough¡¯ was. She wanted to save the world, she wanted to help people, she wanted to fix problems. But she¡¯d never known where to start, and so, she hadn¡¯t really gotten righteously angry at James or Anesh. It would have been silly. And it turned out, ¡®where do you start¡¯ was just¡­ anywhere. Just start doing good, and lay the groundwork for everyone who came after you. Anesh wanted to build spaceships. James wanted to build cities. Alanna didn¡¯t care. Or, rather, she couldn¡¯t see things on that scale. She was where she was, and she wanted to do what she could there. And now, she had the responsibility and the capacity to do so, and she loved it. Alanna even loved filling out paperwork. Okay, that was a lie. But she *tolerated* paperwork, and would tell anyone who asked that it was important. Because it *was*. She would, if pressed, tell them it was exhausting and she was pretty sure they should have dedicated people who double checked skulljack memories and streamlined the process. And were good at it. All of that took a backseat when Anesh started talking. Alanna glanced up from the Response laptop she was working on to where Anesh had been playing increasingly convoluted Sudoku puzzles on his phone. ¡°Man, that sentence never gets old. We¡¯ve got a boyfriend!¡± She grinned at her other boyfriend. ¡°Thanks for sharing.¡± She told him. Anesh paused. ¡°First thing,¡± he started, ¡°is it not kind of rude to say ¡®sharing¡¯? He¡¯s a person.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± Alanna welcomed the distraction, tapping her finger on her cheek, long since having gotten used to having fingernails that were a little too sharp. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t say it to be an ass or anything.¡± She mused. ¡°But, y¡¯know, we *do* share him, don¡¯t we? I¡¯m not as good at the whole ¡®meaning of words¡¯ thing as James is. I¡¯m a little more hands on.¡± Alanna waggled her eyebrows at Anesh suggestively, getting a roll of the eyes and an amused huff back. ¡°But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s bad to say ¡®share¡¯. Like, fuck, sharing is basically the basis of the whole ideology of the Order, right? That we have magic, and power, and knowledge, and we should share it.¡± ¡°Okay, well, we don¡¯t share *all* our knowledge. Though I think we¡¯ve got a¡­ you know what, that¡¯s not important.¡± Anesh waved his hand. ¡°I guess I¡¯m used to hearing it derisively.¡± He sighed. Alanna nodded, nudging her laptop aside to lean forward on the table toward her partner. ¡°Oh, I get that. Have you had to try to explain our relationship to someone outside the Order recently? It¡¯s a pain.¡± ¡°Alanna, I don¡¯t know how to explain our relationship to *myself*.¡± Anesh snorted. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not incapable of researching. I¡¯ve become aware of the concept of polyamory, and open relationships and stuff.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I just¡­ still get thrown off a little by it. We don¡¯t talk about this very often, and I¡¯ve only barely started to think of myself as bi, and it¡¯s just a mess.¡± ¡°We should talk about this more.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice and smile softened as she reached over the table and grabbed one of Anesh¡¯s hands. ¡°It¡¯s okay to have meandering conversations while we go on three hour long walks until we figure out a tiny bit of who we are.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t¡­ that¡¯s just something we do, isn¡¯t it?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°I know you and James did that a lot before I moved here. But I swear I¡¯ve done that with you. Or something that feels like it?¡± ¡°It usually ends with us at the coffee shop drinking espresso these days.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°Anyway! Our boyfriend, you started to say?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Anesh needlessly turned his phone screen to face Alanna. ¡°Nearly got himself killed.¡± Alanna froze, her hand tensing on Anesh¡¯s for a moment, before she forced a calm shrug and leaned back. ¡°Okay.¡± She said, deciding that Anesh would have let himself get sidetracked from something actually critical. ¡°Doing something heroic, or stupid?¡± ¡°Does that¡­ make a difference?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Oh, absolutely.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°If it was heroic, he¡¯s my boyfriend. If it was stupid, he¡¯s yours.¡± ¡°Okay, well, it was both.¡± Anesh said smugly. Alanna gave a small tilt of her head in acknowledgement. ¡°Yeah, that checks out. Guess he¡¯s still ours. Thanks for sharing, by the way!¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± Anesh laughed, looking back at his phone. ¡°Anyway. There¡¯s a public meeting in the staging area in an hour, according to the thing Karen just sent me, which has a *very* passive aggressive tone to it. Want to go find James and see if we can help?¡± ¡°Sure. Just let me sec-check this laptop first.¡± Alanna agreed. Paperwork and good practices could wait. Not *forever*, but that was sort of the point of an organization based around compassion. They had some leeway. Which was good, because the sentence ¡®our boyfriend almost died¡¯ showed up with a pretty concerning frequency. _____ ¡°Well, at least we know the glasses don¡¯t work.¡± Nate sighed from the observation station in the middle of the Order¡¯s hospital. Most of that sentence made his head hurt. If you¡¯d told him that someone had built a small hospital in their basement, he would have assumed¡­ nothing. He didn¡¯t know what he would have assumed. Not that he liked assumptions to begin with, but that was just so far out of his personal world that there wasn¡¯t a starting point for it. *Maybe* he¡¯d have a mental image of a serial killer with, like, a dilapidated asylum aesthetic? That sounded kind of accurate. What he wouldn¡¯t have expected would be that the people he was working for would have sprung for some fairly high end medical equipment, including vitals monitors, exam bed, and a dozen other small things he wasn¡¯t familiar with, then outfitted a single room with all of it and a number of careful touches. And then duplicated that room. Intellectually, Nate knew that the hospital space was safe. Hell, he¡¯d helped design some of the tests they¡¯d run on the orange totem for stability, and he¡¯d been there when Research had - in an open field far from potential victims - run earthquake tests on an active warped space. But it was something else entirely to stand in a basement that was about two hundred feet longer than it should have been. Basically impossible to be there, under white LEDs that were both perfectly bright and yet somehow soft, and think things were *normal*. But he didn¡¯t have time to worry about how they¡¯d turned one room into twenty eight copies of that room, tunneled those rooms through a fold in space so they didn¡¯t accidentally destroy the plumbing infrastructure of the surrounding block, and then, just to show off, left small gaps in the totem¡¯s warped space where the construction crew had installed supply closets, a break room, and bathrooms. Nate was worrying about it a little. He could multitask. Of the twenty eight rooms, seven were occupied, and six of those mattered. One, in particular, that Nate was standing outside of now while one of their newer hires gently plucked charred splinters out of the arm of the man inside. One of them had a dog, and Nate wasn¡¯t going to worry about that either. One of them had a¡­ wasp thing? Nate wasn¡¯t worrying about her, but for different reasons. The glasses that showed affiliation read the man inside as ¡°Guild of Alchemists, Alchemist.¡± Which was redundant, but honestly, he didn¡¯t know what he expected them to call themselves. Not that anything was off the table; Nate knew for a fact that the KKK had a rank of ¡®grand wizard¡¯, and the fact that a group called the fucking Guild of Alchemists showed more restraint in their ranks was shocking. ¡°I need to ask him some questions.¡± Nate told the¡­ medic? Nurse? Whatever the woman in scrubs was. ¡°Is he stable?¡± He suspected he knew the answer, but asking, and leaving a trail of information, was important around here. ¡°Yes.¡± She nodded, round face giving him an instant and professional answer, which he appreciated. ¡°No head injuries or anything serious. But you need permission from¡­¡± She pulled a clipboard off the wall and flipped to where Deb had left notes about who was allowed to screw around down here. ¡°Whoever Mr. Marsili is.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± Nate said blankly. ¡°I have officially given myself permission.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± The woman looked back at the clipboard, seemingly unfazed by the response, and checked a box. ¡°Go on in then. Davis is flagged as your observer? I think that¡­ means¡­¡± ¡°It means he¡¯s making sure I don¡¯t do anything unethical.¡± Nate nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m actually just here to ask questions. Thanks.¡± He slid the door open, and stepped into the room. The man in a now slightly shredded suit only tilted his head slight as Nate entered. He had been staring straight ahead, like he was frozen in place. But as soon as Nate was in the room, the man seemed to melt back into human mannerisms. ¡°Ah, hello.¡± He said in an exhausted voice. ¡°It¡¯s fine if you drop the act.¡± Nate said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. ¡°Or if it¡¯s not an act, just don¡¯t feel obligated. I¡¯m Nate Marsili, I¡¯m here to ask a few questions. You¡¯re Colorado, yes?¡± The man shifted, somehow, and suddenly Nate knew he wasn¡¯t talking to a human. ¡°Columbia. Or, William Jean, without the pretense. But those are the victim¡¯s names. I do not have a name, really.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll stick with Columbia, then.¡± Nate said, outwardly unflapped as he settled his pad of paper on his knee. ¡°First thing, I¡¯m sure someone¡¯s told you, but you¡¯re not a prisoner here.¡± The false person sitting on the hospital bed tilted its head at him, almost like a bird. ¡°James says you need help. So you get help. You can go whenever, and you don¡¯t need to answer anything I ask.¡± ¡°Reading me my rights?¡± The creation asked. ¡°Something like that.¡± Nate acknowledged. ¡°But also, I do have questions, and you¡¯re probably the one to answer them.¡± The potion looked at him carefully through the portals of human eyes, and Nate got the feeling that he was been more than just observed, but *examined*. Like it was trying to take him apart, piece by piece, and understand every one of them carefully and individually. Then Columbia nodded, once, and said, ¡°I will help how I can.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Nate kept his disquiet off his face; a skill he¡¯d mastered in his years at the bureau. ¡°I need to know about the Alchemists.¡± The creation blinked, and suddenly, was a human and not just something wearing the body. ¡°Lucky for you, I know a bit about them.¡± Columbia said. ¡°You okay if I talk like this? It¡¯s more¡­ eh, familiar.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Nate chose not to acknowledge the shift more than he needed to. The question of what these people *were*, philosophically, was kind of up in the air, but more importantly there weren¡¯t any established cultural mores for him to worry about. So he chose blunt forwardness. ¡°How many are there?¡± ¡°Eighteen. Counting myself. So, seventeen now, I suppose.¡± ¡°The number isn¡¯t important?¡± ¡°Nah, there¡¯s not symbolism to it. We added a couple new people five years ago, and last year Thames kicked it. It¡¯s just a number.¡± Nate glanced at his notes from what JP had relayed to him already. ¡°Someone said sixteen is the number of nobles, is that related to the previous number of Alchemists?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a coincidence. There¡¯s sixteen of the things because that¡¯s how much sap is allocated to the upkeep.¡± Columbia reached his hand out like he was going for a drink, but came up empty. The man frowned, and looked back to Nate. ¡°Also it¡¯s ¡®Nobel¡¯. Not noble.¡± ¡°The chemist?¡± Nate said, adding ¡®sap¡¯ to his notes with a big circle around it. ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ god dammit.¡± Nate quietly muttered, rubbing a hand across his face. His expectations were crushed. He wasn¡¯t going to get away from absurd naming schemes. ¡°Okay. Before we get to that, tell me what the Alchemists *want*.¡± Columbia shrugged. ¡°The same thing everyone wants. Money. Wealth. To buy nice houses, fancy cars, silk bedsheets, to pay to have housekeeping, whatever we want. Once you¡¯re rich enough, you can have basically anything. Even respect, if you know where to look.¡± He blinked, and went blank, his other self adding in a monotone, ¡°Or that is what they believe.¡± Before he flickered back to the proud gentleman. Nate didn¡¯t argue. He wasn¡¯t James, he wasn¡¯t here for ideology class. ¡°Okay. So, your own creation, then. Monetary motivation there too?¡± ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Columbia nodded smoothly. ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t want a way to turn anyone into a personal spy? And if that didn¡¯t work, who wouldn¡¯t want a way to cure any mental disorder? Cash cow, right there.¡± He shrugged easily. ¡°It hasn¡¯t gone swell so far.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t consider yourself a success?¡± Nate prompted. The man across from him flickers away, and the replacement was there in his place. Nothing *changed*, exactly, but there was a feeling at the exact moment the disguise dropped. ¡°My creation killed a man.¡± The potion said. ¡°Not a good man, or a kind man. But someone. Neither of us consented to the process. I do not feel like a success.¡± Nate was, mostly, trying for straightforward professionalism. But he softened at the comment. ¡°You don¡¯t decide how you¡¯re born.¡± He told the other creature. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was what he had to offer. But he still had more to ask. ¡°I¡¯m not the therapist here, though. There are smarter people than me for that conversation. What I need to know is, what *are* the nobels?¡± ¡°Alchemically enhanced soldiers.¡± Columbia leaned back and kicked his feet up onto the bed. ¡°We hire them on contract, from some security contractor. Never bothered to learn the name. They get a standard suite of alchemical enhancements, and do the dirty work. That¡¯s about it.¡± ¡°List of enhancements?¡± Nate cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Short. Do you want the Latin, or the easy names?¡± In reply, Nate just gave him a *look*. ¡°Easy it is.¡± Columbia nodded. ¡°Wraith form, complete hardening, detonation, and networking.¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to need to explain the details on most of those.¡± Nate frowned as he scratched down the names, hearing a distant echo of the sound of a pen as Planner did the same. He wasn¡¯t highly compatible with Planner, but the infomorph was basically always around *somewhere* in the building. Columbia took a breath, and then paused. ¡°Any chance I could get a drink?¡± He asked. ¡°Sure.¡± Nate said. ¡°Water, beer, bad scotch, good scotch, or something else?¡± ¡°Bad scotch. No need to waste the good stuff.¡± Columbia paused. ¡°Also water, or the nice nurse will be very disappointed in me.¡± In the space of a minute, Nate relayed an order upstairs through his phone, and settled back into his chair. Columbia started talking in the meantime. ¡°Wraith form is what it sounds like. Incorporeal to non-living objects. Selective control comes with experience using it, but it can be trained. Complete hardening is a galvanization treatment that builds up over time. It solidifies the skin without impairing movement, reduces the need for air or water, and also deadens emotional highs. Detonation¡­¡± he looked down at his shredded suit jacket and the seared skin of his arm. ¡°Well, it builds up heat and force in the body, before causing an explosion. Again, can be trained up to focus where it happens, and how it¡¯s directed. Usually lethal if not paired with the wraith draught. Ah, thank you!¡± He brightened up in a very human way as Knife-In-Fangs slid the door open and slithered in to deposit a tray of drinks on the bedside shelf, the camraconda nodding politely to the Alchemist and glancing at Nate to make sure he didn¡¯t need anything else before vanishing, mechanical arms working in concert to pull the door shut again. ¡°What about the last one?¡± Nate asked as the Alchemist pulled a sour face at the taste of his bad scotch. ¡°Networking? It¡¯s a strange one.¡± Columbia admitted. ¡°Let¡¯s the person who takes it instantly react to orders from whoever is in charge of them.¡± Nate looked up from his notes sharply. ¡°Mind control?¡± ¡°In a way.¡± Columbia gave a tiny nod. ¡°Very bad scotch, by the way, thank you. Mmh. But not, not fully mind control. Unless you¡¯ve already removed the subject¡¯s ability to worry, regret, or get angry. Which we do. At that point, it allows for one person to direct a battlefield with perfect synchronicity. Not that ¡®battlefields¡¯ are something that we tend to get involved with.¡± Nate made some hasty notes. That sounded too much like the advantage the skulljacks gave them, and going up against it would be a nightmare if they were unprepared. ¡°Nothing else?¡± ¡°They¡¯re already trained killers.¡± Columbia snorted. ¡°Why would we need anything else? We aren¡¯t¡­ you.¡± Hard to argue with that. ¡°Okay, couple more quick things. Sap?¡± Nate prompted, checking the time before he needed to be upstairs. ¡°The Sap Of The Tree Of Knowledge. Eden Sap, colloquially. Or just sap, once you¡¯ve been doing this for a decade and the novelty wears off.¡± The older man ran a hand through his mostly grey hair. ¡°There¡¯s a tree in the basement that grows drops of it as fruit. We take them, process them with mundane ingredients, and get the potions we sell. I don¡¯t have numbers, I¡¯m not one of the masters. I just do a certain amount of simple mixing, and then a few experiments.¡± He sighed. ¡°Or, rather, I did.¡± Nate nodded slightly. A point of weakness. Good. ¡°Okay, last thing. Does the Guild have any other xenotech capabilities?¡± ¡°Xeno... you mean occult?¡± The ex-Alchemist raised his eyebrows almost mockingly. ¡°A few, yes. We have an orrery chamber that depicts relative strength power structures. A mostly useless cloak of invisibility. And a lamp that generates sunlight. Aside from that, no. The sap is our bread and butter.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Nate stood, and extended a hand to shake. ¡°Thank you. I have to go brief our Order on this, but I appreciate your time. Someone from Recovery will be by soon to check in on you, and get you set up with whatever you need.¡± He paused. ¡°And¡­ if you want some advice? You don¡¯t need the mask here. I¡¯m not saying no one will treat you different, but I am saying they¡¯ll treat you like a person. And that matters.¡± The briefest flicker of facial expressions, and the gentleman set his glass down. ¡°Thank you.¡± The potion said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because,¡± Nate answered as he rolled the door open, ¡°we¡¯re trying something new around here.¡± _____ ¡°May I join you?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked politely from the side of the heated pool that James and Alex currently occupied. ¡°Or is this one of *those* baths?¡± The camraconda followed up. ¡°Oh my god!¡± Alex bust out before dunking herself below the surface and vanishing from view in a plume of soap suds. James just raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to come back up, and counting in his head. ¡°This is where we find out she can breathe water.¡± He idly commented. ¡°Anyway, yeah, come on in. Also are you actually asking, or doing that thing where you pretend you innocently don¡¯t know something?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Frequency nodded, tilting herself forward and setting down the oversized bath towel she¡¯d brought in her fangs. ¡°Sure.¡± James said. ¡°Hey, are you doing alright? That got¡­ horrible, fast. I know neither of us are feeling good after the fight. Do you need anything?¡± The camraconda gave a mechanical hum. ¡°I feel strange.¡± She said. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I need to be clean.¡± Then she turned to let James unplug the speakers from her skulljack that absolutely were not waterproof. So silenced, and unable to be questioned further, the serpent perched on the lip of the pool and slipped in with a move as fluid as the water. ¡°I know you¡¯re more organic than you look,¡± James said as she surfaced, ¡°but it still throws me off to see a camera in a pool.¡± He narrowed his eyes at her. ¡°Or that you can *float*.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight just nodded at him vigorously, spraying arcs of water droplets across James¡¯ face and getting a sputter out of him. Before James could protest, Alex surged up, gasping for air. He mentally marked ¡®cannot breathe water¡¯ under the column he had for her in his headspace. Then he looked away rapidly as she stood up in one of the shallow parts of the pool, the parts of the stone carved as seats, pointedly *not* making any mental notes about how she looked. The baths that had been built in the Lair¡¯s basement were wondrous. And, in part, the feeling of otherworldliness that you could feel in them, with all the small colored glimmers of light, fountains of water constantly refreshing the pools, varnished wood and copper piping, it all aided in people easily taking for granted the other weird thing which was bathing together. Usually naked. Nudity wasn¡¯t *really* a problem for a lot of them. Hell, a lot of members of the Order had gotten stabbed or shot for each other at some point. It certainly wasn¡¯t an issue for the camracondas. But there was a gap between being intellectually okay with something, and then being dropped into the experience for the first handful of times. There was a vulnerability to it that was kind of scary. There had to be some sort of trust between anyone you were with, or it all just fell apart. But it was too nice, having a hot bath on demand, in a place that looked like it was plucked out of a fantasy world, to actually give up without trying. So James did what he did best, and filled the awkward gap with conversation. ¡°Kind of surprised you¡¯re here, actually, Frequency.¡± He said, still looking off to the side of the pool and the folding wood palisade between this pool and the next. ¡°I figured Deb would have tied you up and made sure you didn¡¯t run off.¡± The camraconda couldn¡¯t speak at the moment, but she let out a low hiss, shaking her head as she stuck her mouth above the water far enough to make the disappointed noise. Which, apparently, was enough for Alex to interpret. ¡°Yeah, she was *real* mad at you.¡± She said to James. ¡°What the hell?¡± ¡°Deb is¡­¡± He looked over to where Frequency-Of-Sunlight was thrashing her way through the water toward a shallow disc of rock made for a camraconda to curl up on. ¡°She¡¯s protective.¡± ¡°Yeah, but like¡­¡± Alex shrugged. ¡°I thought I knew her. We¡¯re friends, right? We hang out a lot. This is *weird*, for her.¡± ¡°Frequency, are you okay if we talk about this?¡± James asked considerately before he kept going. Getting a slow, almost reluctant nod from Deb¡¯s partner, he sighed. ¡°I think she¡¯s still remembering the Status Quo attack.¡± James said. ¡°Both of them almost died, right?¡± Another nod in reply, this one with an angry hiss. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna say she¡¯s overreacting, or that she needs to get over it, because that¡¯s fucking stupid. But she¡¯s letting it dominate her world. She gets *mad* whenever Frequency is involved in anything. Which is a problem, because¡­ you know.¡± ¡°Because she¡¯s a teenager?¡± Alex asked. The camraconda girl on the other side of the pool dipped her head into the water, then came back up and nailed Alex in the face with a surprisingly accurate stream, briefly turning herself into a water feature. Holding back a laugh, James kicked a small splash up at Frequency-Of-Sunlight. ¡°I was going to say ¡®because she¡¯s one of our knights¡¯. But yeah, sorry Frequency, Alex has a point. You *are* kind of a teenager. Sort of. It¡¯s actually really hard to tell where camracondas are, developmentally. Or how to treat you sometimes. Are you adults? Are you kids? Are you something else we don¡¯t have context for?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight narrowed the lens of her camera eye to a squinting point, leaning forward as if to glare at James. ¡°I think she thinks she¡¯s not a kid.¡± Alex filled in. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m watching Star Wars again for the first time, wondering why Han can understand Chewy.¡± James muttered. ¡°Okay, yes. You don¡¯t *feel* like a kid. But you know who says that? Every other teenager in the building.¡± James folded his arms over his chest, leaning back to let the warm water bob his body around. ¡°Does that make you capable of making big life choices, with actual consent? I think Deb¡¯s whole thing is that she¡¯s terrified that you¡¯re going to die on her, without actually realizing what you¡¯re signing up for. But that¡¯s kind of uncomfortable too, because then she¡¯s treating you like her kid and not her partner. Unless part of that is calling her mo-?¡± Anything wildly inappropriate James was about to say as his mind wandered from subject to subject without supervision was cut off by a second jet of water from the camraconda. He filed a mental note, as he toppled off his seat and into the deeper part of the pool accompanied by a splash and Alex¡¯s thrilled giggles, that apparently camracondas were part water pokemon, and all knew hydro cannon. ¡°You know that¡¯s water with, like, soap and blood and stuff in it, right Sunny?¡± Alanna¡¯s voice came from over James¡¯ head. He looked up, and saw both his partners¡¯ faces looking down at him. Anesh looking worried, Alanna looking¡­ amused, but with a tension behind it. ¡°Hey!¡± James tried to sound excited. ¡°You missed all the fun! Also we purified the water after we got the blood off, so it¡¯s mostly just soap. And not much soap.¡± Alanna waggled a finger at the camraconda girl. ¡°Sunny, don¡¯t agree with him. Don¡¯t eat soap¡­ actually maybe you can eat soap? Probably just don¡¯t eat soap. And yeah, hey James. How was Utah?¡± ¡°Dry.¡± James commented. ¡°Kinda nice, actually. A little sun, sorta quiet. Met some new friends.¡± ¡°Uh *huh*¡± Anesh successfully rolled to disbelieve James¡¯ bullshit. ¡°And the blood and stuff?¡± Alanna asked, with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Also the message you sent us that said ¡®almost died, not dead, decompressing¡¯?¡± James let out a breath, expelling the air from his lungs and letting himself start to drop down into the water, maintaining eye contact with Alanna while he sunk out of view. ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± Alanna dropped to a knee in a smooth motion, dipping one hand under James¡¯ arm and keeping him afloat. ¡°You¡¯re in an amount of trouble, you goddamn mobile disaster!¡± ¡°Wait, really? How much trouble?¡± James asked. ¡°An¡­ amount.¡± Alanna looked over at Anesh. ¡°You do the number stuff, you tell him.¡± Anesh scratched at the back of his neck like he was thinking. ¡°Two.¡± He said calmly. ¡°Yes, two, James. Two trouble units.¡± Alanna couldn¡¯t keep the sarcastic smile off her face anymore. ¡°I *did* tell you I didn¡¯t die.¡± He reminded her, slipping out of her loosened grip and paddling away into the middle of the pool, near to where the overhead spout poured a constant small waterfall. ¡°Anyway. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°You mean aside from you sending a tiny burst of information about your lack of death, and then us finding you down here, hanging out naked with two beautiful women, instead of actually checking in with us?¡± Alanna said. It was interesting, James thought, that someone could turn that shade of red that Alex did. He couldn¡¯t rule out chameleon powers, honestly. Moving with an alacrity that was born of a critical dose of embarrassment, Alex bolted out of the pool, rapidly wrapped herself in a towel, muttered something about having to go, and ducked past them out the door of the baths. Frequency-Of-Sunlight also moved as to leave, though without the color change, or apparently any embarrassment at all. Instead just slithering up to the side of the pool, and prompting Anesh to help towel her off, getting her voice box reinstalled once she was dry enough to state, matter-of-factly, ¡°I *am* beautiful.¡± ¡°Dang, she¡¯s been working out. She could kick you in half with those calves. Also I think Alex is into you.¡± Alanna told James, flopping onto her belly by the poolside while he finished scrubbing any lingering soap off his skin. ¡°What? No.¡± James shook his head incredulously. ¡°Also please don¡¯t tease her like that. It¡¯s not nice, and it discourages participation in attempts at making our own culture.¡± Alanna looked like she was going to say something kind of snarky, but then gave a small acknowledging shrug. ¡°Okay, yeah, that¡¯s true. But she *obviously* has a crush on you.¡± ¡°I promise you she does not.¡± James said. ¡°Really?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Actually asking. How would you know?¡± He looked more curious than anything else. ¡°Okay, I love you and shit, but you are, hands down, the biggest dumbass when it comes to noticing if people are into you.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not true! I noticed¡­ uh¡­¡± James trailed off. And then, in an effort to hide his true nature, slowly slipped down below the surface of the pool until only his eyes remained out of the water. ¡°Shut up.¡± He bubbled. Alanna nodded. ¡°Yeah. See, I don¡¯t get it. You¡¯ve always been good with people. Not like JP is ¡®good with people¡¯ for getting people to give him their money and thank him for it. But, like¡­ James people *like* you. You give a shit, and everyone notices. Even *Karen* likes you.¡± Alanna held up a hand with an outstretched index finger from out of the pool she was swirling it in, water streaming off her skin. ¡°Platonically.¡± She amended. ¡°Karen complains endlessly that I am constantly putting us over budget.¡± ¡°Yeah, and why do you think Karen, a woman with *two degrees* and *twenty years of experience*, even knows what our budget is, much less has a personal investment in it?¡± James grimaced. ¡°Okay, fine.¡± He said. ¡°But Alex isn¡¯t into me.¡± He said. ¡°Still curious!¡± Anesh raised a hand. ¡°So am I!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight chimed in. ¡°How do you tell?¡± She made an organic gasp, before adding with her digital voice, ¡°What if people are into me and I do not know?!¡± Anesh cleared his throat, folding the towel and handing it to the camraconda. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ pretty normal.¡± He said, running a hand through his dark hair. ¡°Anyway, James, insights?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t know if I should¡­¡± He trailed off as the other three people in the room all eyed him with determined looks. ¡°Alanna, she¡¯s not interested in *me*, she¡¯s interested in *you*.¡± ¡°Wat.¡± From a pile of folded clothes James had brought with him that weren¡¯t covered in blood and smoke, a series of buzzing sounds emanated. ¡°Oop. There¡¯s my timer.¡± He swam over to the rack where he¡¯d left his own towel. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get dressed and get to the briefing. Will you two be there?¡± ¡°Obviously.¡± Anesh said. ¡°You need anything? You didn¡¯t sound like you were doing okay. Want a hug?¡± ¡°Yes, once I¡¯m not soggy.¡± James answered. Alanna had other conversation plans. ¡°Wait, hang on, what?¡± ¡°The briefing. About the situation.¡± James said flatly. ¡°So I don¡¯t have to explain it several times.¡± ¡°No, James¡­¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight slithered by, a small silver and sapphire brooch in her mouth, dipping her snout into the water and sending a ripple of clarity through the pool as she purified their bathing space. ¡°I like this.¡± She said. ¡°I didn¡¯t understand before, but now this is fun. Is this why memes are fun? Because you know a joke others do not?¡± ¡°Pretty much.¡± James nodded, trying to ignore the uniquely unpleasant experience of putting on pants while still slightly damp. And then, as soon as he was even mildly separated from his towel, the kind of fun experience of trying to put pants on while your boyfriend wrapped you in a hug. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s not keep people waiting. I¡¯m feeling coherent, and that should last a good ten minutes before I have another panic attack, and I really don¡¯t want to waste the time of anyone who is either saving lives, or studying magic.¡± ¡°What about everyone else¡¯s time?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked as she gently set the purification brooch back on the wall hook for it. ¡°Oh, three uses until this levels up.¡± ¡°Sunny, we¡¯re all studying magic all the time.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go. *Later*, though.¡± She gave James a threatening gesture. James just waggled his eyebrows at her. ¡°Oh yes. Later.¡± ¡°No, love, that¡¯s the other hand motion.¡± Anesh whispered to him as they trailed behind the other two out of the bath chamber. ¡°Oh. Oh!¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Dang. Okay, well, that¡¯s a problem for future James. Let¡¯s go let the Order decide if we¡¯re going to war.¡± Chapter 184 ¡°You have no choice you have to choose.¡± -Foo Fighters, Something From Nothing- _____ The way the Lair was laid out was, originally, with just one floor, mostly three separate parts. The front, which was supposed to be a lobby or a check in area, the kitchen and dining zone, which had been *sort of* unchanged, and the back, which was¡­ a pool hall? James couldn¡¯t remember. The addition of a few dozen greens and whatever weird chain of effects Momo and Reed had used to link an elevator from here to LA had¡­ *altered* the space, slightly. But not fundamentally changed the floor plan. There was a restaurant ¡®next door¡¯, renting out a chunk of the same building. When the building had been on the market, Anesh had just grabbed the whole thing for them, and that restaurant was where Nate had moved his kitchen to, pushing out the size of the dining area and making the weird buffer zone where the not-underground bathrooms were even stranger as far as positioning went. But the front, cleared of everything else, had been kept the same as it was transmuted to a lounge and communal area. The back, which was very, very obviously just a warehouse space, had also kept its shape. But they¡¯d done a little more work on it to make it comfortable. This was where dungeon teams planned out their operations, where maps were assembled and studied as groups, where new life forms were discussed and strategized for. Small pods of desks and tables dotted the space, with generous walkways between them and standing whiteboards surrounding them like walls. Each one a different peek into another world, or a different crisis. And along the back wall, they¡¯d set up a small stage, a projector and screen, and an assemblage of seating for both humans and camracondas, where anyone who needed to address a group could do so. James had, weirdly, only really learned the value of a good PowerPoint presentation once he was out of the world of actually having a job, and into the world of dungeon nonsense. People learned in different ways, and for some people, having a written reminder of the list of ways a ratroach could kill you was easier to follow than having someone say it out loud. Normally, this space was kind of quiet. If there were people here, it was because there was a delve coming up, or there was a scheduled planning meeting or the rotating check in with Officium Mundi groups updating the growing map. James had actually stuck an old couch he¡¯d salvaged in here a while back to use as a place to read when he wanted to relax out of sight. Normally was the key word there. Today, the space was¡­ well, ¡®crowded¡¯ was kind of the only way to say it. It wasn¡¯t jam packed, or chaotic. But it sure did seem like everyone who¡¯d been available, and many people who hadn¡¯t, had all showed up here on a pretty damn short notice. ¡°I was in the bath for, like, *thirty minutes*, maximum.¡± James griped to himself as he looked out over the room. ¡°How did everyone even¡­ I mean, internet, I guess. But damn.¡± The pods of desks and tables had been shifted around, clearing a wider semicircle around the stage. Every chair, bench, and beanbag in the room had been dragged over to fill that space, and more still brought in from the rest of the building. There were still paths to walk through, and it looked like *someone* was guiding the organization of it all, so that was good at least. But there were easily a hundred people in here of various shapes and sizes, and the atmosphere was charged. They¡¯d never really done something like this before. Not really. The Order had grown a lot since James had shoehorned it into existence. From sporadic hiring of specialists and new delvers to recruiting dungeon survivors, turning FBI agents to growing the Response program, making new life to liberating creations from the dungeons. They sat now at over two hundred active members, and with the incoming resources they were planning on bringing in, James had hopes to scale that up immensely in the coming years. But boy was it a shock to see a hundred people crammed into one converted warehouse space. It was also interesting how people divided up. Response teams were *easy* to spot; they sat in their teams in small clusters, humans, camracondas, and sometimes manifested Authorities bantering with each other in a way James found intimately familiar. But Response wasn¡¯t one unified bloc; all those teams were divided up among everyone else. The high schoolers, the ¡®interns¡¯ who the Order was trying to give the best tools to be good people to that they could, mostly sat in pairs, blended in with everyone else. Everyone else, the pattern was lost on James. It was just a jumbled mess of researchers, record keepers, engineers, gardeners, builders, wizards, accountants, detectives, spies, and whatever else the Order needed done at any given time personified as an emergent role. There was a sound in the air; a dozen conversations and debates and arguments. Laughter mixed with tension. The loudest quiet hum of voices that James had ever heard, like the dining area during peak hours, only *more*. Occasionally punctuated by a squeal from one of the four actual young children running around the place, the kids playing their own game while the adults did Serious Business. Well, the human children, anyway. It also kind of warmed his heart to see there wasn¡¯t a species division. With the exception of a group of camracondas that were ¡®new¡¯, who were mostly kept together like this was a field trip, watched over by their caretakers. The caretakers were mixed species, themselves. And suddenly, James made the realization that they might be doing the camraconda population a disservice; eroding their own culture by trying to help. He¡¯d need to talk to someone about that later. Priestess-Under-Stone, or the first camraconda leader he¡¯d talked to who he was pretty sure still hadn¡¯t picked a name. It also occurred to him that the potion people who had chosen to attend¡­ he didn¡¯t actually ask them if they had a personal species name, he should get on that¡­ were also sitting separated from everyone else. Just off to the side of the stage, not in the spotlight, but certainly not mixed in with everyone else. Before he could complete his assessment of the room, James was approached directly by a determined looking masked woman who seemed to be patrolling around the doors. ¡°My, you¡¯re a tall one, aren¡¯t you?¡± She said bluntly, looking James up and down. He didn¡¯t think he was particularly tall, but the late forties bony woman that only came up to his shoulder certainly might have disagreed. ¡°Let¡¯s find you a seat, eh?¡± ¡°Oh, thank you, but I¡¯m good.¡± James said. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get you not blocking the door then!¡± The woman *was* smiling, but somehow James just got a sense of exasperation, bordering on irritation from her. ¡°Oh!¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Sorry, I was surveying my domain.¡± James slid himself to the side, already preparing to explain himself and give an actual apology when a small boxy shape dragged itself down one of the aisles, between a pair of humans having a conversation, and toward James at the door. A shellaxy, obviously one of their tame ones since they were nowhere near the dungeon. But this one with a passenger on it. ¡°Oh, hey Rufus!¡± James brightened up. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± The shellaxy dragged its case over next to the woman, Rufus giving her a friendly pat on the leg with one of his own pen legs, before turning to James as his mount coiled its cables underneath itself and settled in. ¡®Assorted Jelly Beans¡¯ read the strip of masking tape on its side. Rufus peered up at James, and then pitched himself backward, crossing his front legs with a cock of his elongated stabler head. ¡°Oh no, I¡¯m in trouble for something?¡± James guessed, and Rufus nodded. ¡°Uh¡­ am I¡­ in the way?¡± He glanced at the woman. ¡°Sorry, hi, I¡¯m James. Nice to meet you. Am I still in the way?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Mary Ann.¡± She replied, offering a hand to shake which James took, surprising him with a painfully tight squeeze. ¡°You¡¯re not in the way *anymore*.¡± She said. ¡°But I have more people placing to do. Don¡¯t loiter!¡± She said, wagging a finger at him as she turned and headed over to where a camraconda was sitting in the door with a similar look on its face to what James had when he¡¯d first seen the Order¡¯s full crowd. ¡°My, you¡¯re a colorful one! Let¡¯s find you a seat!¡± James let her words trail off as Mary Ann launched back into her duties as usher. ¡°That¡¯s Bill¡¯s wife, right?¡± He asked, turning back to Rufus. The strider just narrowed his eye at James, shifting his legs to make it clear he was still cross with James. ¡°Right, right. Um¡­ Have we not hung out enough lately? Because I have an excuse for¡­ no?¡± James raised his eyebrows. ¡°Am I just *late*? Is that it?¡± Rufus nodded, glad James was finally getting it. ¡°Okay, but like¡­ it¡¯s been half an hour! How did¡­!? Actually, nevermind. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m late. Where should I be, here?¡± Rufus jabbed a leg into the air, then tapped at his shellaxy palanquin and braced himself as the ambulatory computer stood up on coiled power cable tentacles and rotated to take them down an aisle toward the stage. Rufus perched on top, leg waving James to follow. It was hard to argue with that, really. So follow James did. Through a crowd of people who he mostly recognized, some of whom elbowed or nosed each other and pointed his direction as he passed. It made him anxious, honestly. He was kind of thrilled that the cluster of Researchers up near the front weren¡¯t even remotely focused on him as he made it to the stage. Instead locked in a heated debate about what qualified as ¡®lunch¡¯ for the purposes of the lunchbox of holding lunch. James listened in as best he could as he passed, and remembered Alex¡¯s theory from earlier in the day - was it really only a couple hours ago? - that dungeontech from the Office was actually just blue orb Life. Because nothing, *nothing* that wasn¡¯t alive, and kind of sarcastic, could have such a specific categorization of what ¡®lunch¡¯ was as that stupid box. That stupid, amazing, perfect lunchbox. Literally every example he overheard was appended with ¡®but it depends¡¯. ¡°You¡¯re late!¡± Reed greeted him as he passed, turning away from his subordinates and their inane food based conversation. ¡°I was in the bath.¡± James said by way of explanation. ¡°And also, I didn¡¯t set a time for this at all, so I can¡¯t possibly be late.¡± ¡°Oh, *you¡¯re* not in charge of this meeting.¡± Reed told him, stepping over a camraconda and falling in next to James as they trailed behind Rufus the last couple rows of chairs up to the stage. James sighed. ¡°This is what I get for giving up authority.¡± He bemoaned. ¡°Well, who is? Karen?¡± ¡°No, Planner.¡± Reed said. ¡°Turns out, infomorphs can be in charge of things.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± James thought about it quickly. ¡°I had not really considered that. That¡¯s on me, really. Okay, neat!¡± He planted a hand on the edge of the raised stage platform and hopped up, ignoring Reed¡¯s much more sensible path around to the short set of steps on the side. ¡°I¡¯m still not late though.¡± He added. ¡°Also hey.¡± James greeted the people already on stage. Momo, a guy from Response that James was almost certain was named Marcus, Texture-Of-Barkdust, and three empty seats, arrayed behind long tables that faced the audience. Reed slid into one of the chairs tapping at the tablet screen that was waiting for him on the table, leaving James standing awkwardly in the middle of the space. ¡°Waiting.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust informed James. ¡°You are, surprisingly, not last.¡± ¡°*I called this meeting!*¡± James protested. ¡°Also who¡¯s left?¡± ¡°Well, Dave and JP just landed upstairs.¡± Reed said, reading off the message from the Order¡¯s shared server. ¡°Good landing, I didn¡¯t even notice the building shake. But no, we¡¯re waiting on Nate.¡± ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± Nate said, having appeared from seemingly nowhere, but not looking winded in the slightest, the heavyset chef and or spy taking his own chair and cracking open the laptop he had waiting for himself. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James glanced over at the roof access, expecting JP and Dave to slide in at any time. But they were smart, they could catch up. Assuming they could find somewhere to sit. James looked out over the crowed of a hundred or so people, shifting his posture a little, straightening up, and suddenly having a *presence* on the stage. Some of the people in the front quieted down. Research ended their lunch based debate. The parents or caretakers regained control of the kids who were treating the crowd like a playground, either getting them seated, or ushering them out of the room. Someone handed James a microphone, and he flicked his wrist to give himself enough cord to pace and talk at the same time. And then it was quiet. ¡°Alright.¡± James said. ¡°Here¡¯s how we¡¯re going to do this.¡± He started pacing lightly, getting into the flow of talking to an audience. ¡°I¡¯m going to give an overview of the situation. Then, Nate¡¯s got some supplemental information from our new guests. After that, we¡¯re going to discuss what to do.¡± He looked at the crowd, meeting the eyes of everyone looking at him. ¡°We¡¯ve really reached the point where these kinds of decisions affect all of you, in some way. And so your input matters. Someone probably already told you this, but those of us on stage are all going to be trying to actively keep up on your input as it comes in. There are specific channels in the discussion server for each representative on this stage. If you have questions that aren¡¯t being answered, thoughts you think matter, concerns, or even just your own take on things, put it there. If you don¡¯t have a device for that, we¡¯ll do a spoken Q&A twice during this discussion.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯re fumbling through remaking the democratic process here.¡± He said. ¡°Right now, the people on stage are functionally acting as unelected representatives. But just because you didn¡¯t vote for us doesn¡¯t mean we aren¡¯t here to listen to you, and take your advice. Especially on expert knowledge that you may just flat out know more than us on. The point is to reach consensus about what we should do, and outline how to do it, before we start assigning people to make it happen and cut loose. We won¡¯t do something like this for every single issue, but we¡¯re gonna try for the important ones. And this is an important one.¡± He paused to let everyone digest that. The crowd was quiet now, but for a few rustles of shifting in seats or the low drone of the fans someone smarter than him had brought into the room. ¡°With that said.¡± James continued. ¡°Let me tell you how my day has been going.¡± What followed was the quickest summary James could give of the events of the last few hours. Linking up with JP and Dave and making diplomatic contact with the potion people. Then the conversation about their origin and escape. It didn¡¯t take James any kind of magic to see clearly how uncomfortable the surviving potion people were, sitting off to the side of the stage, to have their natures spells out so clearly to so many people. But he pressed on. He quickly talked about how the Alchemists had intended them to be used, then how they¡¯d experimented on people who were obviously unwilling. About who they all were, including the fact that one of them was an ex-Alchemist himself. And then, his decision to offer them help. ¡°I¡¯ve got a couple questions about that.¡± Reed said from behind James. ¡°Yeah, go ahead.¡± James stepped aside, letting Reed talk. Reed didn¡¯t have a happy expression on his face as he relayed the main question to James. ¡°Is it a good idea, to bring in unverified non-human life, without some way of ensuring trust? Also a similar question about making that unilateral decision.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to assume those are rhetorical, and in good faith.¡± James¡¯ voice was a little colder than he meant it to be as he turned back to the audience. ¡°The decision to help, to essentially offer refugee status, was mine. Everyone in the Order has both the internal authority, and responsibility, to help where we can. Sometimes we¡¯re gonna run into use of resource issues that limit how much we *can* help, but never question that we should. Also, quick reminder that roughly 30% of everyone in this room isn¡¯t human.¡± He sighed, then grinned and shrugged. ¡°So far, trusting people who need help, and getting them that help, has only made us stronger and closer knit. So, yes, I stand by that call. Any other questions?¡± ¡°Karen has preemptively asked about resource use.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s voice amplified from her speakers without the need for a microphone. ¡°But you have covered that. Somewhat.¡± ¡°Look, six people don¡¯t need more resources than we generate.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°Anyway, moving on.¡± Moving on to the hard part of the briefing. Which was summarizing, without being overwhelmed by anger or panic, the attack on the home. Unprovoked assault, tactical in nature. Not as much of an alpha strike as it could have been, though; they were clearly planning to capture more than kill at first, James suspected. He relayed his fight with the first Nobel, and the deaths of the two potion people who hadn¡¯t been able to get past. Trading off his position on stage twice, once to JP who explained the Alchemist¡¯s use of their people disguised as police, and once to Frequency-Of-Sunlight who covered the fight at the back of the house while James was clearing people out the front. The audience had mixed reactions. Some, mostly Response members, looking appraising. Others reacting with disgust and anger, which James was trying to keep out of his own voice as explained the events. He caught a lot of looks shot over to where the potion people were sitting, but if there was any distrust there before, it was replaced now by pity and active concern. ¡°Thought from Response.¡± Marcus spoke into one of the pauses that James left in his briefing. ¡°Are the replacement potions not self replicating?¡± ¡°No.¡± James said. ¡°We originally thought they might be, but it¡¯s been confirmed that is not the case. Just a weird cornercase; the kind that shows up a lot with dungeontech.¡± ¡°So no existential threat to humanity?¡± ¡°I mean¡­ okay, quick show of hands or¡­ tails? Who wants to come back here tomorrow and talk about the philosophy of species?¡± James called out to the crowd. ¡°Like¡­ like is it ¡®bad¡¯ if humanity is replaced by a different species? This used to mostly be a question about AI, but it¡¯s kind of relevant to other things now.¡± More people than he was expecting raised their relevant appendages. ¡°Alright. That¡¯s a problem for tomorrow us. Right now, the answer is going to be a simple ¡®no¡¯.¡± He told Marcus. ¡°Works for me.¡± The dispatcher nodded. ¡°Though I think it was meant as a *hostile* replacement? Like, a non-consensual one.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. No.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Anyway. That brings us up to the moment where I flipped off everyone left in the building and teleported out. Now Nate has some follow up information on the Nobels?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± Nate nodded, rising from his chair with a tired grunt. He¡¯d been on his feet all day. Which was basically every day for him, but that didn¡¯t mean he had to pretend to be energetic all the time. ¡°Alright. Nobels. Like the chemist, yes, James. Mundane first, then mystical:¡± The Alchemist¡¯s foot soldiers were outlined in quick, efficient detail. Nate was way better than James at staying on track and not diverting. They were soldiers, hired not kidnapped, but modified to have an advantage in a fight that should be overwhelming. The Alchemists didn¡¯t have too many at once because of resource reasons, either in terms of potions or just hard cash. ¡°It¡¯s the potions that¡¯re the big thing, obviously. They¡¯re all got Latin names, I don¡¯t care what they are, ask Columbia later if you¡¯re curious.¡± Nate crossed his arms. ¡°One for ghosting through walls - and bullets, yeah - one for psychically linking to a squad, one for durability and ruthlessness, one for blowing up their own body parts. That last one is the one that burned the house down, in case anyone is confused.¡± ¡°Dibs on naming that one.¡± Momo dove into the conversation. ¡°Uh¡­ sure?¡± Nate raised an eyebrow, wrinkling his bald forehead. ¡°Hand grenade!¡± ¡°That¡¯s already¡­ kid, that¡¯s a thing already. You can¡¯t make this confusing for people.¡± Nate flatly replied before he turned back to the audience. Specifically, to the people taking notes. ¡°The Alchemists have a short list of potions they actually sell, which will be on the server and copied to the ops manual, along with an incomplete list of experiments and non-sellers that Columbia remembers. But as for actual combat capacity and threat assessment, I¡¯ve got this for you. In a straight up fight, we¡¯ll win. The fact that a single camraconda stops their big defense, while they don¡¯t have a good way around ours, means we can take ¡®em. But they¡¯ll take some of us with them. They¡¯re *soldiers*. Or at least, defense contractors. Mercenaries. They aren¡¯t bad at their jobs, either; the one James fought adapted real quick to the shield bracer. That easily could have gone the other way. So, I recommend *not* getting into a fair fight.¡± Nate ended there, and sat back down, ceding the stage to James. ¡°You have never once recommended to me that we get in a fair fight.¡± He said. ¡°Yeah, because I¡¯m not a fucking idiot.¡± Nate answered, perhaps unaware his mic was hot. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°So.¡± James said, not really succeeding at suppressing a grin, and hearing a number of chuckles from the crowd. ¡°That¡¯s our tactical landscape. Now we need to decide what we¡¯re going to do about it. Long term decisions about how to approach the existence of a changeling style life form can come later, and the short term defense of our people and homes until we know the situation is settled is already kicked off. What we¡¯re talking about today is *what*, exactly, do we do about the Guild of Alchemists?¡± He paused, then gave a shrugging tilt of his head to the audience, stepped back to the seat at one of the tables that was left open for him, and settled in, clicking his microphone into the stand as he did so. ¡°Let¡¯s hear some options.¡± ¡°First thing,¡± Nate cut in, setting down his phone, ¡°any tactical military option from the crowd, send through me. I¡¯m gonna cut out the ones that won¡¯t work, and if anyone wants to know why I ignored you, I¡¯ll explain why later.¡± Then he angled a flattened palm over toward Texture-Of-Barkdust. ¡°Sorry, cut you off there. Go.¡± ¡°What do we *want* to do?¡± She asked, digital voice echoing. ¡°Do we actually want to destroy them? We could. It wouldn¡¯t be hard for us. But do we want to?¡± There were some uncomfortable noises from the room, including from James, who sighed as he answered. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone *wants* to start another fight, no.¡± He said. ¡°At least, we shouldn¡¯t. It¡¯s¡­ look, the whole point of the Order is to generate more good, right? Dungeon delving isn¡¯t really *about* the combat, though there is that constant danger, it¡¯s about exploration and discovery. Fighting in our world has always been self defense, in some way. This would be¡­ different.¡± ¡°Preemptive self defense puts us in different territory.¡± Marcus said calmly. ¡°We¡¯d basically be declaring that we¡¯re the people who should use violence to end things we don¡¯t like. Which¡­ uh¡­ no?¡± Admitting it hurt, but he felt like he needed to anyway. ¡°I mean, we do that.¡± James said. ¡°No, we *react*.¡± Nate said. ¡°That¡¯s different. Even Status Quo was us reacting to constant physical threats on the lives of people under our protection. We don¡¯t target people just for being shitty. If we did that¡­ we¡¯d never run out of targets.¡± ¡°Actually, yeah, can I ask a question?¡± Momo raised her hand. Nate looked around before realizing she was more or less asking him. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s why we¡¯re here.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Okay. So, why are the Alchemists more our responsibility than, like, Nestle?¡± She asked. ¡°I mean, they¡¯re wizards, and we¡¯re wizards, so maybe we¡¯re uniquely suited to deal with them. And I *do* think we should do something about them; they¡¯re kind of obviously a threat to at least someone, and the fact that they were brewing something to sell to the CIA to replace people is kinda fucked. I don¡¯t think they should have power. But why them, and not, like, a corporation that uses child slave labor?¡± ¡°They¡¯re small enough for us to deal with, and their limited arcane resources means their power base is easy to remove.¡± James answered coldly. ¡°Also, magic, yeah. Reed, do you want to talk about the field effect?¡± The head researcher startled in his chair, slamming his elbow into the table edge as he was called on. Once he was done hissing through his teeth, he cleared his throat and spoke. ¡°Uh, yeah, so, the ¡®field effect¡¯ that James is talking about is the tendency for people to lose focus on paranormal effects or events. It seems to scale up the larger an organization the individual is a member of, like some kind of bureaucracy shield, but we haven¡¯t done extensive testing on it yet. It¡¯s part of why our anti-cancer lottery hasn¡¯t gotten a lot of attention; we¡¯re going through hospitals, and for some reason, probably¡­ what, seventy percent?... of the people we deal with just don¡¯t¡­ internalize it? They understand what¡¯s happened, the magic works on them, but they don¡¯t change in any meaningful way to adapt to it. Which, yeah, does actually make the Order suited to these kinds of problems. Because we *don¡¯t* seem to get hit with this.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know that, and that also shoots down about five different ideas.¡± Marcus said, tapping at his tablet with a stylus. ¡°So, we can¡¯t just call the FDA on these guys?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± James looked over at the Response member with raised eyebrows. ¡°The Alchemists have guns?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust bobbed her head from side to side. ¡°Institutionalized power does not use physical violence to intimidate. It is the implied threat of the greater collective. You can kill one inspector. You could kill the whole office. But you cannot kill the nation.¡± ¡°Okay, so, the FDA is on the table then.¡± Marcus said, cheerfully ignoring how absolutely dire the camraconda had sounded there. ¡°Other options include local police, FBI, or even just public pressure through whistleblowing and news outlets.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t the FBI still trying to shut us down?¡± Momo asked, a snarl of confusion writ on her face. ¡°Yep.¡± Nate said. ¡°But they¡¯re busy with other things these days, and we haven¡¯t caused any extra problems. Beyond¡­ you know.¡± He gestured to Marcus. ¡°You guys.¡± ¡°We¡¯re getting off track.¡± James said. ¡°We still haven¡¯t answered the core question. *Do we*, from our position of power, take action here?¡± ¡°Quick thing, I just want to clarify.¡± Momo rolled her hand on the table, cracking her knuckles as she got their attention. ¡°We¡¯re talking about doing this to secure the safety of the potion people, right? The¡­. potpeeps?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t ever say that ¡®word¡¯ again.¡± James snorted. Momo nodded. ¡°Right. And because we don¡¯t want them making more, now that they know that the potion does what they *thought* it did.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°Because we misjudged a thing that almost killed you, spent months spying on the Alchemists, then tried to spring a trap on them by telling them the potion did a thing that they didn¡¯t think it did, but that they meant for it to do originally, then we waited while all the potion people came together, including one who *was* an Alchemist, thus leading the Alchemists right to them, putting all of them in danger, which is bad because they¡¯re *not* trying to replace humanity, *don¡¯t* want more potions made, and are innocents that we fucked up the lives of by blowing their cover, and now we need to stop the Alchemists from making potions that they want to sell to governments so they can make sleeper agents by killing people in sensitive positions in rival governments or organizations?¡± There was a moment of quiet, and Momo taking a deep breath to replace what she¡¯d just used. ¡°Jesus, my head hurts.¡± Marcus uttered. Texture-Of-Barkdust moved her mouth silently, like the camraconda was slowly parsing the words Momo had said. ¡°That¡­ is¡­ yes?¡± ¡°Yes, that is all technically correct.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°I mean, I vote yes.¡± Momo said quickly. ¡°This sounds like a problem we created, which means it¡¯s a problem we should solve.¡± She nodded twice to herself before adding. ¡°Which means my *department* votes yes!¡± She seems excited about this prospect. Reed glanced at her with narrowed eyes. ¡°Your department is¡­ three people? Anyway, Research already voted, we¡¯re in.¡± ¡°Response, too.¡± Marcus added. ¡°Though you can sort of safely treat us as being part of a command structure. You don¡¯t need our votes to have our support.¡± He glanced into the audience. ¡°At least, that¡¯s what Harvey told me to say. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s correct.¡± ¡°Not how we work kid.¡± Nate shook his head. ¡°Texture? What about your people?¡± The camraconda hissed in small bursts, like a laugh. ¡°Which ones?¡± She said. ¡°The¡­ other camracondas?¡± Nate asked. ¡°No, wait, I just realized you¡¯re sitting in for *Karen*. Wait, where the hell is Karen? Shouldn¡¯t we have someone here to tell us we¡¯re over budget.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kinda a reductionist but completely fair look at what Karen does every day.¡± James said, and got a few isolated laughs from the people in the room that had encountered Karen at various points. ¡°Texture-Of-Barkdust is here for Recovery. Karen is doing a family thing.¡± ¡°We do not think we should fight.¡± She said simply. ¡°But other action is possible.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James looked out at the assembled crowd. ¡°Does *anyone* have a strong reason that we should do nothing?¡± He asked the assembled group. A few people slipped out of seats and moved to form a central line in front of the stage, while several others began typing on digital devices to send up to the stage. It actually didn¡¯t take long to get through most of them, because there was some pretty big overlap in a lot of the concerns. It was too risky, it was too public, and no one actually *wanted* to make an enemy that would hold a grudge. While they took a quick break to process concerns, small conversations popped up around the room. And James, listening in almost without meaning to, started to get a shape of the Order as represented by the people here. Yeah, it was risky. But Response did a risky job every day, and they were almost certainly making enemies doing it. Yeah, it was public, but¡­ well, same answer. James started to realize as he heard people talk to each other just how much the Order had become defined by the Response program. On one hand, that was neat. They were the helping hand, reaching out. But stopping immedient threats and helping with emergency medical transport was a band aid, not a solution. He needed to talk to Karen, get a picture for how long until the mass material duplication procedures could make the Order irrationally wealthy enough to start pointing Recovery at strategic problems the same way they pointed Response at tactical ones. In the end, they took a simple vote. Yeah, not everyone was here, but this was a pretty representative sample of the Order, and they¡¯d work out a better system later. The fact that they had this option during what could otherwise have been a pressing emergency was kind of a great perk of the telepads to begin with. Do something won. But no one, James included, felt like they should get into a shooting war. Discussion resumed, with a tension bled out of the room that James hadn¡¯t even noticed. Or maybe it was just him. ¡°Okay. So, does the FDA thing not work? There¡¯s no way the potions are legal for sale.¡± Marcus brought up again. ¡°It¡¯s more that¡­ okay, look, these guys have over a billion dollars in personal wealth, and probably more tied up in their Guild¡¯s assets. They¡¯re also only a dozen or so people, not a corporation with a major bottling factory.¡± Nate shrugged. ¡°They can, and probably will, bribe their way out of legal trouble. Either just by paying off investigators, or by hiring a legal team that will drag it out so long that they¡¯ll all be dead by the time it¡¯s done.¡± ¡°I have a somewhat grim suggestion.¡± Momo said, looking like she was apprehensive about bringing it up. James looked over at her, seeing some pretty unpleasant worry in her eyes. ¡°I mean, you don¡¯t need to if you don¡¯t think it¡¯ll work.¡± ¡°Well¡­ it would probably *work*, that¡¯s the thing.¡± Momo winced. ¡°Why not just wipe their memories? We¡¯ve done it before, with people who are¡­ you know, awful. Why not here? They don¡¯t have any innate magic, right? They¡¯re just¡­ dudes with a magic cauldron.¡± Momo looked unhappy for having even brought it up, and many of the assembled Order members who had survived exactly that kind of antimemetic effect didn¡¯t look happy with her either. ¡°It¡¯s better than killing them, right?¡± ¡°Sap.¡± Nate corrected. ¡°But yeah, she¡¯s right.¡± ¡°Two problems.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said matter of factly in an electronic tone that somehow came across like a disappointed teacher. ¡°One. Planner is not equipped for, or willing, to take that action in a hostile fashion. Two. It is wrong.¡± ¡°Wrong is kinda flexible sometimes.¡± Nate pointed out. ¡°No.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust replied with that same voice, like she was lecturing. ¡°You complicate this, and you should not. *Right* is flexible. Wrong is not, and it is easy to see from where I am.¡± ¡°I¡¯m actually on her side here, sorry Nate.¡± Reed spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ look, we¡¯re a bunch of nerds in the basement, right? We talk about sci-fi concepts that should be out of reach but suddenly aren¡¯t basically all day. Wiping someone¡¯s memory is assault. These guys have been doing the alchemy thing for *decades*. Wiping that memory, you¡¯re basically killing whoever they were. If we¡¯re prepared to do that, we may as well just shoot ¡®em. Because if they¡¯re not willing to give up the knowledge, then any infomorphs doing the procedure is going to basically shred their personality in the process.¡± ¡°Alright! So it won¡¯t work! Cool!¡± Momo slapped the table. ¡°Moving on. Why not just¡­ actually, hang on, back to the infomorph thing.¡± An entire room of people glared at her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± She threw her hands up. ¡°But why not incept them with an infomorph that guides them to be better people? Or just locks them out of selling to governments or something?¡± ¡°Euuuuuuugh¡­¡± James made a low, uncomfortable groan. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ still bad? Have you ever had a nascent assignment in your head? Being unable to do or talk about a specific thing when you know it¡¯s there is¡­ kind of a massive violation. We¡¯re still talking about using force to change someone¡¯s personality.¡± Momo rolled her whole head along with her eyes. ¡°I was more thinking as a form of corrective confinement, to keep them from hurting anyone, while they work to be less garbage people.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ what if we don¡¯t use force?¡± Marcus asked, interjecting. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m new to *this* whole thing. Maybe this is a stupid question. But what if we just¡­ ask them to stop?¡± Everyone looked at him. Even Reed looked up from the constant input from his screen. The young man withered under the attention; somehow less comfortable to be talking to other members of the Order than he was answering emergency calls. ¡°I just mean¡­ isn¡¯t that what you *do*? I¡¯ve heard stories. Or, rumors, I guess?¡± Marcus asked James. ¡°In fairness,¡± Momo said, patting James on the shoulder, ¡°you do keep using the power of friendship to solve problems.¡± Her words got a small laugh from a lot of the people seated around the stage. ¡°Yes hello.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust added pointedly, getting the laugh to echo again, even louder. James would have had an answer, but he was too busy being bright red from embarrassment and trying to hide his head in his arms. Probably not the most professional attitude for a leader to take, but, he reminded himself, he had abdicated leadership. Wait, he was still on a stage guiding a discussion about group action. How had this *happened*? He¡¯d told them all directly and everything! ¡°If we¡¯re making contact, there¡¯s a few options on the table, actually.¡° Nate said, giving James a reprieve. ¡°Just asking them to drop the matter might *work*, kind of for the same reason Barkdust brought up earlier. We¡¯re an implicit threat, but it could be that neither of our groups *want* to fight. So we can find another solution. If we want to be the ones coming out on top, then yeah, we can try to absorb them into the Order somehow. Probably by buying them out.¡± ¡°A billion dollars.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said dryly. ¡°See, this is why I should have known you were Karen¡¯s replacement.¡± Nate grumbled. ¡°The problem with the magic of friendship is that we don¡¯t actually have a lot to offer them. The Order is an amazing deal for anyone facing poverty, memetic erasure, or other dungeon fuckery. But it¡¯s not going to sway a bunch of old white guys who are used to eating caviar and drinking thousand year old scotch while they pretend to play golf.¡± ¡°That cannot be accurate.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust mused. ¡°He¡¯s exaggerating, but not by much.¡± Reed said. ¡°My grampa was like that. Especially the pretending to play golf thing. And yeah, it¡¯s pretty¡­ uh¡­ pretty hard to get through to people who are already rich. Because from their perspective, they won, you know? They don¡¯t want to fight the system, because the system is the game they¡¯re good at. The best we can probably get here is offering them a *lot* of money for their magic tree, but they¡¯re just going to say no, because they can make more money keeping the tree.¡± ¡°Can we steal the tree?¡± James asked. ¡°Reminding all of you that we can *teleport*.¡± ¡°Oh good god.¡± Nate rubbed his forehead. ¡°This is the nuke thing all over again.¡± ¡°You told me not to tell anyone about that, and now here you are, speaking into a microphone you *know* is on.¡± James chastised the Order¡¯s chef. ¡°But yeah. What if we just take the tree?¡± ¡°Then they have a time sensitive vested interest in hunting us down and retrieving their asset, and since they *can¡¯t* teleport, it¡¯s probably going to end with us remodeling this building to patch up bullet holes again.¡± Nate snapped out. ¡°So *no*. Don¡¯t *do* that. Because they still have at least a dozen highly trained heavily armed alchemically enhanced murderers on their side, and they *know* we exist.¡± ¡°Okay, so, we¡¯re looking at¡­ what, just asking them to stop?¡± Reed paused. ¡°That can¡¯t be our best option, can it? They¡­ killed people.¡± His voice wavered, got quiet even though it was still broadcast out to the room. ¡°You can¡¯t just kill people and not have some kind of punishment. Right? We could at least demand they give up the tree. Drain their bank accounts. Demilitarize them, or - yeah, Nate, I fucking know that¡¯s the wrong word - just¡­ something! Right?! Right?¡± A rumbling of discontent passed through the room. Mostly from the newer human members who had joined them, though. James shook his head sadly at Reed as he answered. ¡°It¡¯s not about punishment.¡± He said. ¡°I know¡­ like, don¡¯t get me wrong, I *get it*. I¡¯m *mad*. They tried to blow me up, at least twice today. And striking back would probably feel good, right up until we counted our losses. But it doesn¡¯t actually matter how it feels. What matters is getting results. We were literally talking about this a couple weeks ago; punishment doesn¡¯t stop ¡®crime¡¯, right? And we actually want the Alchemists to stop what they¡¯re doing, not just stop while we¡¯re watching or until they can hide it better.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t help that they¡¯re a really boring kind of evil.¡± Marcus added. ¡°They aren¡¯t crazy cultists or secret Nazis or¡­ wait are they secret Nazis?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Nate shrugged, the word slipping dryly from him without thinking. Marcus stared at the barrel chested chef and tactician for a couple seconds before whipping his head back to face the crowd. ¡°But they¡¯re mostly just¡­ rich jerks who want more money. They¡¯re the least interesting James Bond villains, except they¡¯re barely even a threat to anyone.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we should ignore that they did kill a bunch of people.¡± James added with more calm than he felt. ¡°But yeah. We can¡¯t really pretend it would be justified to retaliate now.¡± Momo raised a hand, and James glanced over at her before ceding talking priority. ¡°Hey, someone just sent me a question to ask. If they¡¯re just a bunch of old money jerks, why were they suddenly trying to make a super stealthy spy substance?¡± ¡°...To sell?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked. ¡°I am still new to your world, but that is how economy works, yes? You produce goods or services, or siphon wealth from those that do. They chose to produce goods.¡± ¡°Right, right. But what I¡¯m saying is, they were *already* making potions and selling them for a ton of money.¡± Momo said. ¡°And probably also the siphoning thing?¡± Nate nodded and interrupted. ¡°They have a lot of investments, yeah.¡± Unfaltering, Momo plowed through the thought someone had brought to her attention. ¡°So, why suddenly work to make something like *that*? Because, and correct me if I¡¯m wrong here Nate, they were never going to last long once they started selling it, right?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± Nate paused, and ran a hand over his bald head. ¡°Well shit, yeah. You can¡¯t just let the manufacturer of something like that keep operating. It¡¯s not just a weapon, it¡¯s a whole new battlefield. Whoever got to them first would have probably just fed them their own potions, replaced them, and kept it for themselves. Probably CIA, from what their plans were. Which is fuckin¡¯ of obvious now that you say it. I shoulda seen that.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Momo continued, ¡°so *why* were they making this, and not their tried and true cash cows?¡± There was a beat of silence, before James awkwardly suggested ¡°...ghosts?¡± ¡°What? How would that-¡° ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± He threw his hands up. ¡°I¡¯m using humor to keep from just swearing a lot at how this stupid rabbit hole of problems keeps getting deeper!¡± James stood again and started pacing up at the front of the stage. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re not going to hammer out any more details here today. But now you¡¯re all on the same page we are. If anyone has any further thoughts, there will be a monitored discussion space for it.¡± He looked around at the crowd, nodding proudly without thinking about it. ¡°I like this method.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯ll refine this. As for the Alchemists, assignments. Nate, Momo, get me more information on the motive behind the potions.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± ¡°Yes sir!¡± Momo saluted like she was in some kind of navy. James rolled his eyes and turned back. ¡°Texture-Of-Barkdust, please get a Recovery agent set up with the survivors. Make sure they get what they need. And for you,¡± He turned to face the three potion people who had stayed by the stage, listening the whole time, ¡°we¡¯ll talk after you¡¯re settled in about the future. But this is as close as we¡¯ll get to a formal introduction to the Order. Welcome. Wish it could have been better circumstances.¡± He sighed as the potions silently inclined their heads back at him. ¡°Okay. So. We¡¯re going with ¡®diplomacy¡¯ as our option. Response and Recovery, please pick someone suitable to be our emissary, and also Response arrange for a security team for it and when this goes horribly wrong.¡± ¡°You know Harvey¡¯s gonna try to pick you, right?¡± Marcus asked. ¡°I have arranged help.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust cut off whatever complaint James was going to make. ¡°...What now?¡± ¡°Now?¡± James clapped once. ¡°Now we put all the chairs back, let people get back to what they were doing, and I go back to pretending I¡¯m not in a leadership position.¡± He grinned at the Order, a lot of them grinning back. ¡°Thanks for coming. Get back to solving problems.¡± He made a shooing motion at them. *Now* noise and chaos overtook the room, as a hundred people started working out how to leave, starting conversations, and moving furniture. Most of the people on stage vanished pretty quickly to get their tasks rolling, but Reed stayed behind to talk to James. ¡°Hey.¡± He said quietly. ¡°Hey. You alright?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not, I don¡¯t think.¡± Reed said. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. How you can just¡­ let it go. Have you even talked to the potions about this?¡± James shook his head, sighing as he unfolded the chair he was going to put away and sat back down. ¡°Not yet.¡± He said. ¡°I will, though. But it won¡¯t change the decision.¡± ¡°They murdered people. And you know they¡¯ve done it before.¡± Reed stated. ¡°I do. But we¡¯ve got two options, and neither of them are great. Either we just demolish them, and do that every time we run into people we judge to be threats or monsters. Or, we try for something nonviolent first.¡± James leaned back over his chair, his head throbbing with a dull ache. ¡°Ugh. We can¡¯t bring back the people who are dead. The only thing we can do is making sure that we minimize the harm going forward.¡± ¡°We could remove their ability to take action.¡± Reed said. ¡°And yeah, it would be a fight. But we did that before with Status Quo.¡± ¡°And because we didn¡¯t cross the line and execute all of them, it came back to bite us in the ass.¡± James snarled. ¡°Do you want to do that? Kill everyone, even if they surrender or are down? Because you¡¯ll have to. I sure won¡¯t.¡± Reed stared at him, face contorting in internal conflict as he tried to figure out if he was angry, or just depressed by all this. Eventually, he sighed and turned away. ¡°We¡¯ve got a portable room done with the orange totems.¡± He settled on. ¡°We¡¯d like a few more, but you can safely use one to copy bulk mundane material now. Also I¡¯ve got a design for a space elevator that should work, and we can put together in, like, a month. Let me know when you have some of the sap for me to start testing with.¡± ¡°How do you¡­¡± ¡°James.¡± Reed said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve met people like this. I¡¯ve met a *lot* of people like this. I grew up around people like this.¡± He turned, and James could see beads of tears in the corners of his eyes just past the rims of his glasses. ¡°You¡¯re gonna ask them to change, and all they¡¯re going to see is someone weaker than them begging for them to give up what they¡¯ve got. They won¡¯t change. They¡¯ll laugh at you. Even if you take everything they have, they won¡¯t get it. They¡¯ve spent *so fucking long* like this, they don¡¯t¡­ you could lock them in this building and force them to live like us, and it still might take years for them to actually fix their shitty attitudes. If they ever do.¡± ¡°Maybe that¡¯s what we¡¯ll do then.¡± James said quietly, pulling himself forward to meet Reed¡¯s eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll put it on the list. But it¡¯s going before gunfire, and after words.¡± The researcher stared back, eventually breaking the staredown as someone came through folding leftover chairs and stacking them by the wall, interrupting the moment and causing him to turn away and deflate slightly. ¡°Good enough.¡± He said. ¡°I just¡­ don¡¯t want this to be the moment where we decide to compromise.¡± He didn¡¯t bother jumping off the stage, just tore a telepad and vanished, leaving James as the last one up there with the dozen or so people still in the room. ¡°Yo! That was fun!¡± Alanna stormed the stage like it was Normandy as soon as James¡¯ conversation was over, wrapping him in an affectionate hug. ¡°I¡¯m loving the whole ¡®lets do a weird democracy¡¯ thing you settled on.¡± ¡°Hey, be fair, you helped with the concept.¡± James ruffled her hair, accepting a kiss from Anesh as his boyfriend also joined them. ¡°Hey. I need you to check some space math for me before Research causes an international incident.¡± ¡°On it.¡± Anesh said with easy acceptance. Then he paused, seeing James¡¯ subdued demeanor. ¡°Are¡­ you alright?¡± ¡°I¡­ I dunno.¡± James said. He tried to put on a more earnest smile. ¡°Are we doing the right thing?¡± ¡°No clue.¡± Alanna said instantly. ¡°Like Barkdust said; it¡¯s hard to tell what¡¯s right.¡± She squeezed him a bit tighter, pinning his arms to his sides. ¡°But we¡¯re all making the effort to not be *wrong*.¡± ¡°I dunno if that¡¯s enough.¡± James admitted. ¡°Well, we can always change.¡± Anesh said peacefully. ¡°Speaking of change, there¡¯s three .mem files being shared on the server already of this very meeting. Want to go get coffee and vibe to how other people see you on stage?¡± ¡°Oh *god* no.¡± James recoiled. ¡°But also yes. Let¡¯s go, before anyone tries to get me to be responsible again today. I am¡­ exhausted.¡± Exhausted, but still moving forward. Still trying. That was just what they did. Chapter 185 ¡°And I¡¯m not your protagonist // I¡¯m not even my own. // I don¡¯t know anything, // I don¡¯t even know what I don¡¯t know.¡± -Penelope Scott, Sweet Hibiscus Tea- _____ Hours later, James found himself back at the Lair, wondering how it could have only been hours. Time felt wrapped around him like a cloak, tugged on by unseen wind, thick and heavy. He had done more today than he had in the last week. The last month, even. And yet, it was only maybe six PM, and while the Pacific Northwest took a dim view of sunlight this time of year, the dark night sky didn¡¯t really make him feel like it was much later than early afternoon. Maybe it was all the teleporting. Popping in to regions with different seasonal weather was doing a hell of a good impression of jet lag. Alanna had left him and Anesh at the door, waving laconically to them as she made her way back down to Response¡¯s floor. Anesh had said something about preventing an international incident, and gone to find one or more of the engineers that worked with the dungeontech they pulled out of the Office. And James¡­ well, James wasn¡¯t sure what he was doing. He was kind of wandering the building, avoiding committing to actually doing anything, just sort of observing the Order go about its business. A lot of people had emptied out of the building for one reason or another after the gathering was done, and being a Friday, it was right in the strange zone of time where there just wasn¡¯t much happening at the Order. No dungeon crises, no planned events. A lot of people had outside social lives, and this was just one of those days where the Lair got quiet. *Somewhat* quiet, anyway. There were still a bunch of people here, especially the camracondas. And there was always some kind of work to tackle. James liked it. Low key, but welcoming. He just kind of observed for a while, doing his best to not stare at random groups of survivors or knights as they talked about magic or community or the Order¡¯s collective decision making process or their personal lives. James was pretty sure he mostly succeeded. Partly, he was hanging around here this evening because he didn¡¯t actually know if anyone was going to *need him* for anything. They¡¯d sketched out an outline of how to approach the Alchemists a few hours ago, but they were far from a plan they could execute. Some people had some jobs, but James hadn¡¯t actually given himself any responsibility or authority when he was yelling out assignments. So he lurked around, eventually deciding that prowling through the kitchen to see if there were any leftovers he could steal was the best way to be on hand if Nate needed him to teleport into Utah and go back to getting shot at. The kitchen was still lit, but no one was in at the moment. James made a beeline around the long stainless steel prep counter that dominated the middle of the kitchen space, and moved to yank open the door to the walk in, silently hoping that there was something both easy, and yet also palatable, waiting for him. Instead, as he pulled on the door, someone pushed from inside, causing it to swing open a little faster than he intended. It didn¡¯t hit him, but, not having expected anyone, James let out a yelp. The person who¡¯d beaten James to the process of stealing a sandwich also yelped, and after he and Morgan realized that neither of them were busted, they stood there catching their breath. After Morgan dumped the armful of bell peppers he was carrying onto the counter, anyway. ¡°Hoooof.¡± James expelled a worried breath into his mask. ¡°Okay! My heart¡¯s restarted! How¡¯s it going, kiddo?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a kid, you know that, right?¡± Morgan replied with a mildly snippy voice. ¡°Also, why are you even wearing a mask? Isn¡¯t everyone here immune to everything?¡± ¡°Two things.¡± James held up his fingers. ¡°First off, you are¡­ seventeen? You are a kid. I know this because I¡¯m barely in my thirties, and I still have some perspective on being your age. Don¡¯t take it the wrong way or anything, it doesn¡¯t invalidate you or something stupid like that. But if it bothers you, I¡¯ll stop using the term.¡± James shrugged. He didn¡¯t want to actually be an asshole, and if someone didn¡¯t like being talked to a certain way, changing that was kind of the easiest ask. ¡°Uh¡­ oh, there was a two. Two! I¡¯ve worked food service, and wish I¡¯d thought of masks sooner. This whole *thing* has really made me hyper-aware of how much I breathe when I¡¯m making food.¡± Morgan looked down at the peppers he¡¯d laid out on the cutting board, and then back up at James. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°Okay, yeah, I¡¯ve got a three. What¡¯s up with this?¡± ¡°Color-Of-Dawn likes peppers.¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°And I can do this easier.¡± ¡°Fair play. I¡¯m just here to steal a sandwich. Nate¡¯s not around, right?¡± James took the shake of the kid¡¯s head as confirmation, and ducked into the walk-in, finding the rack of leftovers easily and grabbing a triangle half of something that bristled with some kind of bean sprout from between the bread. ¡°So,¡± he asked around a bite as he leaned on the counter next to Morgan, who was doing a great job butchering the vegetables he was working with, ¡°how¡¯re you doing?¡± The teenager looked up while he kept cutting, before sheepishly focusing on his task as James fixed him with an incredulous stare. ¡°Uh¡­ fine?¡± ¡°Really.¡± James¡¯ voice was dry. ¡°I dunno, what am I supposed to say?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°I guess I¡¯m fine. Everything here is okay. It¡¯s not like anything is wrong, right?¡± James blinked slowly. ¡°English is so weird.¡± He muttered. ¡°But hey, things being not horrible doesn¡¯t automatically make you okay.¡± He grabbed a paper towel from off the wall, folded it, and set what remained of his pilfered sandwich down. ¡°Look¡­¡± James tried to figure out what he was trying to say, and eventually realized he didn¡¯t actually *know* what he was going for. So he said that. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m going for here. I¡¯m not your dad, you know? And we¡¯re not really close¡­¡± ¡°Heh.¡± Morgan snorted out a laugh that surprised him in how honest it was. ¡°Yeah, you sorta just dumped me here and then ran off to¡­ uh¡­ save the world? I¡¯ve been here for months and I don¡¯t have a fucking clue what you do, dude.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a wizard of some kind.¡± James nodded. ¡°Anyway, look. If you need to talk about anything, just let me know. I¡¯ll make time. That¡¯s all I was trying to say. You¡¯re one of us, whatever *that* means, and we can probably do better than ¡®fine¡¯.¡± Morgan swept the pile of sliced peppers into a bowl, getting a wince from James as he dragged the blade of the knife across the cutting board. ¡°Alright.¡± He said simply. ¡°I mean, I do therapy. And I¡¯ve got some¡­ friends? Friends now.¡± ¡°Good.¡± James smiled. ¡°I realize we kind of cratered your life. So I¡¯m glad you¡¯re doing okay.¡± ¡°I did actually have a question about the thing earlier, though?¡± ¡°Shoot.¡± James said, taking advantage of the shift to something more causal to cram more sandwich in his mouth, chewing rapidly. Morgan gave him a weird look. ¡°So, the alchemist guys. They¡¯re¡­ like, they¡¯re evil, right?¡± James raised an eyebrow at him, and before Morgan could get an ethics lecture, he changed approaches. ¡°I mean, they¡¯re bad guys. You said they killed people. I¡­ you¡­ Okay, I still don¡¯t really know what you do, but did someone actually try to kill you?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± James said. ¡°Happens more often than you¡¯d think.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re alive?¡± ¡°Debatably.¡± Morgan moved his mouth, gaping a little bit before settling on what to say. ¡°But like¡­ *I* could take you in a fight.¡± There was a pause. Slowly, gently, James set the surviving corner of his sandwich back down on the counter. ¡°Excuse me a moment.¡± He said in a neutral tone. Then, he stepped past the lanky teen, pulled open the fridge door, and stepped inside, softly shutting it behind him. A half foot of cold metal didn¡¯t actually stop Morgan from hearing James laughing his ass off from the other side of the barrier. When James stepped back out of the walk-in, it was with the same calm demeanor and neutral face that he¡¯d had to start with. Without comment, he settled himself back into the position he¡¯d been leaning in before. Then, making eye contact with Morgan, he simply said ¡°No.¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t actually my question.¡± Morgan¡¯s voice stuttered slightly with embarrassment, the tips of his ears turning bright red. James instantly softened. ¡°Aw, hey, sorry. I¡¯m not actually making fun of you, I just¡­ we can talk later about it if you want. But I¡¯m sorry for being kinda mean. Anyway. What¡¯s your question?¡± ¡°Well¡­ if they¡¯re the bad guys, why *not* try to fight them?¡± Moran asked. ¡°Is that not what Response does?¡± ¡°No.¡± James said softly, shaking his head. ¡°Response helps people.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the difference, if hurting the bad guys stops them from hurting people who don¡¯t deserve it?¡± Morgan asked, voice getting a little angry. With a sigh and a tilt of his head to stare at the ceiling, James rolled the answer in his mind. ¡°Because that¡¯s too simple.¡± He said. ¡°Because people aren¡¯t like that. No one is all evil, no one is all good. They¡¯ve done horrible shitty things, and we need them to stop, but it¡¯s not like anything they¡¯ve done actually changes the nature of *our* actions. If we turn into incredibly efficient assassins, then sure, we might only kill ¡®bad people¡¯. But we¡¯re still killing people. Nothing anyone else does ever changes the nature of your own actions.¡± In a moment, James realized that Morgan shared one particular trait with him, because the kid didn¡¯t let the quiet set in for more than a second before he said ¡°Oh.¡± Like silence was a monster to be fought back, and not a chance to think. James smiled a little, reminding himself that this was *still* a kid. ¡°Anyway.¡± James said. ¡°We should get out of here before Nate catches us. Go take your partner their food, I¡¯ll clean up. You want a hug?¡± He asked, remembering right at the end to include the offer. ¡°No thanks. And, uh¡­ we¡¯re not dating, actually.¡± Morgan said, sliding past James and heading for one of the exit doors. ¡°We just hang out and talk a lot and play video games.¡± ¡°I¡­ honestly might be the wrong person to comment on this.¡± James said. ¡°Because if you add in fighting dragons together, that¡¯s pretty much exactly what my relationship experience has been.¡± ¡°You¡¯re so fucking weird, dude.¡± Morgan said, ducking out of the kitchen. _____ James apologized to Deb. He¡¯d waited on just talking to her, not wanting to feel like he was overstepping, and as a result, the problem had gone from theoretical to real before they ever had the conversation. So he was sorry. Both to her, and in general. He hated the fact that, even with the chemical assistance of antidepressants, he still felt enough social anxiety to make this a problem. Deb apologized to James. She¡¯d already had a half-yelling half-crying argument with Frequency-Of-Sunlight, and wasn¡¯t feeling particularly centered at the moment. She¡¯d known that she was letting her fears guide what she said, but she hadn¡¯t realized - hadn¡¯t *asked* - just how much her partner wanted to get out. To go on the kind of adventures the Order¡¯s knights did. To not feel trapped, or alien, or helpless. They both wanted, fundamentally, what was best for the camraconda girl. And they both needed to be better about being direct in talking about awkward problems. James promised to do that. Deb promised to actually talk to her partner. Because Frequency *was* her partner, and was¡­ not ¡®an adult¡¯, because that distinction was kind of weird with camracondas. But she was a person, who had a right to make choices. Even dangerous ones. They parted on better terms than they¡¯d started the day. _____ ¡°How ya holding up?¡± James had gotten the room number of where the potions were staying from Recovery. They¡¯d moved really fast, getting them set up with a trio of rooms in the residential basement, and he¡¯d been compelled to go say hi, make sure they were doing okay. Especially since almost half of them had died, earlier in the day. In light of that fact, it was kind of a stupid question. The six of them were all sitting in one room, clumped in, on chairs or the bed or the floor, it didn¡¯t matter. The room had a freshly made bed, and scattered around it were small touches that had been added by other members of the Order. A box of extra clothes at the foot of the bed, a folded note on the desk of what times big meals tended to be at upstairs, a small cup of water with a sprig of fresh holly in it on the nightstand. Little ways people were trying to show compassion. One of the teenagers had opened the door for James, and let him in, but now that he was here, he didn¡¯t have anywhere to sit and had even less of an idea of what he was supposed to say. ¡°No.¡± The dog said in a monotone voice. ¡°Everything has gone so wrong. We are not okay.¡± ¡°We have been talking.¡± The unkempt girl said. ¡°We are afraid.¡± ¡°The Alchemists have the stolen samples. They have Kando and May. They know everything.¡± Columbia said, the older man using the same empty voice, face unmoving as he spoke. None of the potions were pretending to be anything at this point, all of them looking toward a shared point in the middle of the room and using the same hollow tone. ¡°You want to help, but you can¡¯t.¡± James leaned back against the wall by the door, letting the metal slab of a door hang open so the place didn¡¯t feel completely claustrophobic to him with seven people crammed into a small bedroom. ¡°Yeah.¡± He uttered. ¡°Though we did recover the potions May had. I swear that came up, but I guess not. So the Alchemists don¡¯t have that. Also, May and Kando are dead, though I assume there¡¯s some nefarious-¡° ¡°They are not.¡± The dog said. ¡°Perhaps.¡± ¡°Wat.¡± James let the word slip out with suitable surprise, tensing up. ¡°Are you serious?¡± The potions all gave the same nod at the same time. ¡°We can sustain a tremendous amount of damage to the victim¡¯s body. Healing takes time, but is possible.¡± James rubbed at his forehead. ¡°We literally just had a meeting about our available actions, predicated on the assumption that there *was no emergency* happening. And now you¡¯re telling me that they have prisoners?¡± ¡°Your people are committed to nonviolence.¡± The potions almost sounded surprised. ¡°Not if they¡¯re keeping hostages!¡± James barked out, throwing one hand into the air. ¡°God dammit! This changes our approach dramatically!¡± He sighed. ¡°Okay, before I go talk to people about this, are you sure? Kando had a lot of holes in him, and May got her neck snapped.¡± ¡°Then May has perished.¡± One of the potions said with a warble to their otherwise dull voice. ¡°Kando¡­ maybe.¡± ¡°He got shot in the neck, if that changes things.¡± James felt like a butcher, discussing the injuries in this way. It wasn¡¯t pleasant. Internally reviewing what he remembered from Alex¡¯s point of view through their link, he added, ¡°They shot him while he was down. Hit him there on purpose, I think.¡± Columbia shook his head. ¡°Then it is likely he is also gone.¡± The replaced person said, and the group¡­ twitched. James was trying to get better at reading them, but it had been a long day. Still, it seemed like they were genuinely upset at the news. ¡°We¡­¡± he looked to the other potions, and they exchanged a few short words, mostly yesses and nos in a way that sounded an awful lot like voting, before turning back to James, ¡°...we are not an effect. We are physical things. Here.¡± He tapped the back of his neck, a couple inches below where most Order members had their skulljack port. ¡°They were targeted then.¡± ¡°So the Alchemists¡­ know?¡± James rubbed at his head. ¡°They used attacks that would kill *you*, specifically. I mean, and anyone. Getting shot in the spinal cord kills most things. So far.¡± He felt his train of thought getting away from him and tried to pull it back. ¡°Okay. Okay, this is more information to add to the web. Thanks for telling me.¡± He looked around at them. ¡°We¡¯re not¡­ look, don¡¯t worry about sharing that information, okay? We¡¯re seriously not going to hurt you.¡± ¡°Any more than you already have?¡± The dog asked. The comment stung, but it wasn¡¯t unfair. In a way, this *was* James¡¯ fault. He¡¯d led the Alchemists to their victims, he¡¯d been the one who¡¯d pushed on the investigation. But just because he had a hand in it didn¡¯t make it his finger on the trigger. He was part of the chain of events, yes, but his part had been trying to answer the question of ¡®is every living thing on the planet in danger¡¯, and a little antagonism. *Not* murder. But what he said was, ¡°No more than that, no.¡± And it wasn¡¯t technically a lie. ¡°Okay. I should go update the board. Is there anything you all need? Snacks, bedding, wifi password, anything we can do for you?¡± ¡°No.¡± Two or three of them said at once. Like they¡¯d reached a consensus earlier and were all prepared to let James know. He nodded, pausing at the door as he turned to go to look back over his shoulder. ¡°Just¡­ let us know, okay?¡± He said one last time, before closing the door to the room, and letting out a long sigh. They weren¡¯t human, and weren¡¯t pretending to be here. That was fine, really, that was what James wanted. Even just among humans, people didn¡¯t process emotion the same way. But at least with humans, James had personal experience - and several hundred years worth of recorded psychological research - to draw on. Here? He had no idea if the monotone expression of being ¡®fine¡¯ was real, a deflection, a lack of self understanding, or all of those at once. He had so many questions. What was it like, being what they were? What did they want, both immediately and long term with their lives? Did they see the world differently? Did they have any unique needs? Did they have any unique *abilities*? Aside from apparently being able to survive being shot in most places, if they had time, that is. His brain felt like it was overheating. Like he kept skipping gears on the same looping set of questions, most of which had no real immedient value. Things he wanted to ask, sure, but not enough to bother a group that were quite likely going through their own form of mourning. James rubbed at his forehead again, and winced as his fingers pushed against what was shaping up to be a pretty aggressive bruise. He resigned himself to probably never having an undamaged head again. Every time he recovered from damage to his face, something new popped up. Exploding living chemical truck, venom that dendrified flesh, boot, all just hazards of his job apparently. James poked at his bruised skull again. It still hurt. And he was feeling pretty awful, now that the coffee he¡¯d gotten with his partners was wearing off. But he had actual work to do now. It took him ten minutes to actually find either JP or Nate, fate settling on the former. James handed off the tidbit of information that the Alchemists seemed to have known more about the replacement potion effects than they might have let on. JP swore a lot, and expanded the conspiracy web he was building on a white board. While swearing. He also asked about the briefcase he¡¯d brought back from the skirmish. ¡°It¡¯s in the vault.¡± JP had said after setting his litany of profanity. ¡°The extra vault. The one with the Mechanic¡¯s stuff.¡± ¡°Jesus fuck, I forgot all about that guy.¡± James groaned. ¡°I still haven¡¯t actually read his notes.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve retracted my own clearance for it out of self defense for my sanity.¡± JP gave James a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s awful, and you¡¯ll hate it. There¡¯s a lot of¡­ uh¡­ *very* bigoted stuff in there. But also, it¡¯s mostly written in a kind of rambling esoteric way. I bet it made sense to him, but it¡¯s not a blueprint and it¡¯s not scientific notes. Honestly, you know what it makes me think of? You remember, uh¡­ six hundred years ago, when we last played D&D?¡± ¡°The game Anesh ran where we all died in a volcano?¡± James couldn¡¯t help a small smile, and didn¡¯t try much to keep it off his face anyway. ¡°Yeah.¡± JP nodded cheerfully. ¡°And we got in a *very* long argument about knowledge skills?¡± James made a strangled noise as he rolled his eyes at JP. ¡°Oh my god, yes. You wouldn¡¯t shut up about what knowledge arcana ¡®should¡¯ do, and you ruined an hour of my life.¡± ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡± JP didn¡¯t even look mildly insulted. ¡°Anyway, this is *that*. Reading that asshole¡¯s books is like arguing with the GM, getting *exactly* what you want, and then rolling a one. I hate it.¡± ¡°I have *no idea*, out of context, what that means. I just want to know the warning signs for large scale necromantic rituals, okay?¡± James couldn¡¯t believe he¡¯d just said that. His life was weird. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m gonna go¡­ something. I dunno. Have fun planning.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± JP waved him off. ¡°Oh, do you want a place on the retrieval force?¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°If either of the potions are alive, we¡¯ll need to rescue them. Do you¡­ you know¡­?¡± It was a testament to how much James¡¯ thoughts were scattered that it took him a minute to process that. ¡°Oh. Uh! Yeah. Yes? Yes, sure. Shit, we¡¯re going to need to move faster, if¡­¡± ¡°You let us worry about that.¡± JP said bluntly. ¡°That¡¯s how this works. You¡­ man, you trusted me, and maybe you shouldn¡¯t have. So this time, trust me, and I¡¯ll put you where you need to be, okay?¡± James grinned, and held out a fist. JP muttered something probably rude and looked away, but still returned the gesture, bumping his knuckles against James¡¯ own. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m gonna go see what weird shit Research is up to.¡± ¡°Godspeed.¡± JP sounded *utterly* sincere in his concern. _____ Research was arming the forklift golem with grenade launchers stolen from the Townton police station. Well, they were arguing about whether or not they should do that. James opted not to engage, deciding to let this play out and only drop in if they actually got around to getting the autotargeting swivel mount that used two different Office pens, a chunk of that weird rubber James and Anesh had brought back from Route Horizon, and a rapidly grown emerald chip program, to actually work. It did not work at present. It was supposed to track hostility. From what he overheard, it was counting asking questions as hostile action. If they got that working, it would probably sway some of the opinions on whether they *should* do it. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. At *that* point, James would tell them not to arm his forklift. He still hadn¡¯t gotten to *do* anything with his mech, beyond simple test procedures. And he didn¡¯t want the first action it saw to be combined arms combat. James slowly slipped away from Research¡¯s den of madness. He could find something else to occupy his time. _____ James was, for the first time in a long time, actually in his office where people could find him. It wasn¡¯t like he never used his office. He just¡­ didn¡¯t tend to keep to a schedule very well. It was hard to post office hours when you never knew if you¡¯d be on vacation, on a Response team, or trapped in an extradimensional space at any given time. Also James had trouble focusing, and schedules made his skin itch. Right now, though, his office had what he needed. Which was some isolated quiet, and a computer that he could use to listen to music and also check what the Order¡¯s online population were discussing with each other. The thing about the Order of Endless Rooms chat server was, it really wasn¡¯t comprehensive. When your membership was only about two hundred people, and fifty of them lived in the same building, a lot of conversations happened in the meatspace. But, a lot of those conversations also made their way online in the form of ¡°I was talking to so and so the other day¡­¡± posts. James treated it as useful, but not to be trusted to be the only voices in play, and so far, that had served him fairly well. He was skimming backlogs of a couple different channels. There were four different threads of conversation about the Alchemist situation, and James was both reading and adding his own opinions on the subject. A lot of people were¡­ not unhappy, but feeling like they should maybe do more. Why *did* they want a peaceful solution to the problem? They didn¡¯t need to murder everyone, no, but couldn¡¯t they afford to apply more hostile pressure to the group that was using people as test subjects? The phrase ¡®human test subjects¡¯ wasn¡¯t something that should exist in a group that the Order coexisted with. And James agreed. The point of starting with diplomacy, though, was to give the Alchemists a *chance*. An initial offer, to end hostilities before they started. ¡°Be better, and we won¡¯t have a problem¡± The Order was a lot of things, but accepting of the existence of the horrors of the world wasn¡¯t one of them. Just because they were going to try to resolve this with no one shot, didn¡¯t mean they were going to stop if that didn¡¯t work. Another one of the threads had spun off of an idle comment Momo had made. Why *didn¡¯t* they have a similar plan of action for the megacorporations that used child labor or slave work, decimated local economies, monopolized food or water supplies, and killed people? Why weren¡¯t they taking action on those people? Maybe a few well placed teleportation threats? James shut that down right away. The telepads were their biggest, strongest tool. If they started weaponizing them for coercion, then they were going to rapidly turn everyone who didn¡¯t know about them or was neutral to them into enemies, *instantly*. Threats were a good way to be the bad guys. And despite the fact that the localized effects of various memeplexes and also lingering infomorph degradation made the Order less public than they probably should be, they *were* headed for open operation in the near future, and they wanted public opinion firmly on their side. So, he told the thirty or forty people who were discussing how to destroy Nestle, if you want to use Order resources, come up with a plan that doesn¡¯t start or end with us shooting anyone as an example to the others. He left them to their new conversation. James had a few ideas himself, but he needed to actually think about them before he said them out loud. He¡¯d come back to this later in the day, after the aspirin kicked in and his head stopped hurting. ¡°This is like herding cats sometimes.¡± He said. It was supposed to be a gripe, but it came out with a quiet fondness. The camraconda who was also in his office, somewhat countering the sense of alone time but not the peaceful quiet, looked up from their own reading. ¡°Why don¡¯t we have cats in the lairhome?¡± The elder camraconda asked. ¡°Some people are allergic.¡± James answered. ¡°Like me. Also pets are a big responsibility.¡± The elder hummed in mild disbelief. What was the Order, if not the assumption of responsibility, after all? But they let the conversation lapse back into companionable silence. They were here to ask James about names. But, in one element of camraconda culture that had sort of stuck, when the questions had ended, the elder had just stayed in James¡¯ office, hanging around. Camracondas didn¡¯t actually *have* a lot of places they could casually go, even if there were more than a few places geographically near the Lair that had gotten used to them. It wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as when they were trapped in the Office, but it was close enough to then that the habit of just not leaving when a conversation was done had carried over. James had possessed almost no relevant advice when it came to picking a name. He¡¯d never had to do it, himself; he was¡­ well, not happy with, but *fine* being called James. It was carried forward on momentum. But a handful of camracondas still didn¡¯t have names, and the elder especially was starting to feel pressure on it. ¡°Just go with what you feel. Or something that sounds cool?¡± Had been James¡¯ advice. It was technically okay advice, but it was lacking in anything *useful* to a camraconda who had been a leader of his people for years, and now found himself uncertain what he should even be called. They spend some more time quietly working on their own things, just the background music James had on filling the office, before the elder looked up at him from the book he was reading in the camraconda-shaped chair. ¡°What is an epithet?¡± He asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know the *actual* definition,¡± James admitted, ¡°but it¡¯s basically a title for a grand deed that someone is known for.¡± He paused. ¡°Also I think it¡¯s the last thing said about your death?¡± ¡°Mmh. Does this mean my people name themselves with epithets?¡± James wobbled a hand. ¡°Not exactly? A lot of you guys have names that are about¡­ like, sensations? Qualia? I¡¯ve noticed a lot of the first wave of names just came from things that you were all experiencing for the first time, you know?¡± He ticked off names on his fingers. ¡°Texture-Of-Barkdust, Scent-Of-Rain, Warmth-Of-Sunshine, a whole lot of names, really.¡± The elder hummed again. ¡°Yes. What do *I* enjoy feeling?¡± The camraconda tightened his coils, rolling his neck ninety degrees to look at James with a sideways glance that communicated a kind of deep personal confusion. ¡°I¡­ am *entirely* unqualified to answer that!¡± James leaned around his keyboard, propping himself up on an elbow on his desk. ¡°But, well¡­ what makes you happy?¡± ¡°Eating cucumber.¡± The elder said instantly, with such a lack of hesitation as he snapped back upright that James both wholly believed that was true, and also knew that wasn¡¯t the whole story. He still smiled. ¡°I mean, Crunch-Of-Cucumber would be a¡­¡± ¡°I am joking.¡± James nodded with pursed lips, hiding a smile. ¡°I kinda thought so, but I didn¡¯t want to be rude. Also, you know you don¡¯t need the three-hyphenated-words kind of name, right? You can be¡­ I mean, you can be anyone. Everyone here will support you. The camracondas already all look up to you. You don¡¯t need to follow their pattern.¡± ¡°It feels important.¡± The elder¡¯s mechanical voice said. ¡°As how we define ourselves. As part of our¡­ our¡­ shared selves?¡± They shrank down a bit, curling around their book as they lay their head down. ¡°I do not know if that is good or not.¡± ¡°I get that.¡± James nodded. ¡°You have a culture. Especially the survivors of the tower, but every camraconda in this building survived Officium Mundi. This has been worrying me for a bit,¡± he inched his chair around his desk and spun to face the elder, ¡°are we, like, ¡®we the Order¡¯ taking away your species individuality?¡± James sighed. ¡°I worry, a *lot*, that in trying to incorporate you into our society, even on the small scale that the Order is, we¡¯re just asking you to act human. Even having names at all is a human affectation that I worry about pushing on ya¡¯ll.¡± The elder camraconda hissed bitterly. When he spoke, his digital voice betrayed none of that hurt, but the words were still dire. ¡°We understood names all along.¡± He said. ¡°It was our choice to not have them. Because we were going to die. Because it hurt to remember the names of the lost. You gave us an opportunity to have names. Didn¡¯t pressure us at all.¡± ¡°Oooookay.¡± James was still concerned. ¡°But it¡¯s still not good for us to convert all of you to our culture.¡± ¡°Why?¡± The elder asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you are trying to do to your own species?¡± ¡°I¡­ uh¡­¡± James held up a raised finger, then slowly lowered it. ¡°Well *yes*, but it¡¯s different when you¡¯re the only members of your whole species, and¡­ actually, hang on. I want to live in a multi-species utopia with a shared culture anyway, what am I saying?¡± ¡°And so do we.¡± The elder said with a bobbing nod of his long body. ¡°Maybe because you convinced us, maybe because we decided. Does it matter? All conversations are social combat. You won, and we follow you. You have made us family, and shown us a world where that is all that matters.¡± James bit his lip, eyes going wide as he let out a high pitched whine. ¡°Aaaaand we¡¯re back to me being uncomfortable!¡± He said. ¡°But seriously, I¡­ yeah, you are family.¡± He gave a soft smile to the camraconda. ¡°That¡¯s the world I want to live in. One where we¡¯ve got a strong, huge family.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± The elder agreed. ¡°I will read more. Find a name. Maybe that is what I want, too. Family. That is what I enjoy.¡± The camraconda went quiet, and turned back to his book, oh so gently turning a page with his extended pen tip fangs. James rolled back behind his desk, taking a minute to look out over the skyline of LA as the evening light cascaded over it. He went back to what he was working on, accepting the end of the current conversation. The way camracondas did that sometimes wasn¡¯t exactly dismissive, but it did take some getting used to. It was marvelous for his social anxiety, though. Just a drop in conversation when there was nothing else to say; no awkward small talk or trying to keep up momentum. The elder would ask if he had more questions, or James would say something if he got annoyed at whatever he was reading, and they¡¯d talk more. It was nice. He spent some time messaging back and forth with Daniel about interactions with cartomorphs. The map in James¡¯ head was still ¡®sleeping¡¯; but he could feel it more clearly now that it had chosen to live on, like a travel brochure unfolding and the smell of a glove box. They hadn¡¯t talked yet, but James could get the sense that it was still recovering, still waking up. Daniel had some general advice about how to communicate, especially early on. Cartomorphs tended to see the world as instructions, not as static scenes, so it helped to frame conversations around going somewhere, or doing something. Going places was also healthy; Pathfinder apparently could keep feeding off of places that they¡¯d already been, she didn¡¯t require a constant influx of exploration to survive. She just liked it, and it helped. James was in the middle of typing a question about talking in dreams when there was a knock at his door. He glanced up, about to let whoever it was know they were welcome in, when El just sauntered into the room anyway. Well, maybe not sauntered. She looked a little too pained to really call it a saunter. James amended it to that she ducked into his office. Around her left shoulder, somewhat curled around the joint and extending into the air next to her head, something that glowed indigo and looked like a terrifying fish with too many painted on mouths floated. ¡°Yo.¡± He greeted her, nodding in time with the camraconda. ¡°Nice fish. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°That¡¯s Speaker.¡± El said by way of blunt force introduction, waving a hand up at the infomorph. ¡°And she¡¯s what¡¯s up. I¡¯ve got an issue.¡± ¡°Is it that you don¡¯t like the fractal layering of fins and mouths Speaker has going on? Also hi Speaker! I¡¯m James, nice to meet you out here in the world.¡± His eyes sparkled as he gave the infomorph a friendly smile. The fish darted behind El¡¯s hair in a flicker of ghostly indigo light, one small eye-studded fin peeking out. ¡°Hello.¡± A tiny voice whispered. El rolled her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be shy, kid.¡± She said reassuringly before turning on James. ¡°Anyway. Yeah, so, first off, Speaker is cute as hell, don¡¯t make fun of my precious fish friend. She¡¯s only got one mouth, and she¡¯s got exactly as many fins as she needs.¡± ¡°Several thousand?¡± James asked, a warm feeling in his chest seeing El go to bat for her hosted infomorph, even if it was mild ire turned on him personally. ¡°*Exactly as many*.¡± She restated with a glower. ¡°But that¡¯s also kinda¡­ okay, so, Daniel¡¯s got Path, right?¡± ¡°Yes, they¡¯re adorable.¡± James nodded. ¡°And she¡¯s a different kind of ghost, right?¡± El prompted. James turned his computer away so he could face her fully. ¡°Infomorph, yeah. They aren¡¯t *dead* and they weren¡¯t bestowed by the Traveller so they aren¡¯t ghosts.¡± He stretched out his arms. ¡°Look, what¡¯s up? You don¡¯t need to Socratic Method me.¡± ¡°Whatever, dude.¡± El huffed. ¡°Why does Speaky look like Hidden?¡± James paused. ¡°What?¡± He asked, raising his eyebrows. ¡°The map ghosts look like¡­ shut the fuck up James¡­ the *cartomorphs* look kinda human. The authorities look like¡­ I dunno, shirts? Unless they¡¯re active, then they¡¯re kinda fluid. The shitty word eaters from the Sewer are just cockroaches but invisible, which, gross.¡± ¡°Absolutely agree that is gross, yes.¡± James said with an empathic nod. El lost a tiny bit of her edge. ¡°Right?! I hate those!¡± She continued to her point. ¡°But *Planner* looks like some kind of octopus thing, when they even manifest at all-¡° ¡°Is Planner an octopus thing? I¡¯ve only ever seen a lot of hands from them, which is *also* an Office infomorph thing.¡± ¡°-And Speaker looks like a fish.¡± ¡°And Hidden also looks like a sea creature¡­¡± James finished quietly, dropping his snarky attitude. ¡°Yeah. So, why the hell?¡± He thought for a second. Brushed up against the memory of a conversation he¡¯d had in a dream, with the Right Person. Slammed his eyes shut in a wince as his head throbbed, before recovering and looking up at El. ¡°There¡¯s a few options.¡± He said. ¡°We know the Office and the Route ¡®know each other¡¯, so it¡¯s possible there¡¯s some cross pollination going on. Or, it¡¯s possible that there¡¯s just different taxonomies of infomorph. Technically, we don¡¯t know where Hidden came from at all.¡± He met her eyes, and sighed. ¡°But that¡¯s probably not true.¡± He said. ¡°I think¡­ I *know*... Hidden is what¡¯s left of¡­ something else. I think I could figure out how it ended up in your hometown. But I also am absolutely sure that doing so would kill Hidden.¡± El¡¯s eyes widened a fraction, her hand tightened on the back of the chair she was leaning over, before she forced herself to relax. ¡°Oh.¡± She said. ¡°Does it¡­ matter?¡± ¡°Which part?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, do. I think it¡¯s a sinister plot?¡± ¡°Yeah. Or, *should* I know? Speaky¡¯s been helping me with memory stuff the last week or so. I absolutely remember making art that looked like Officium infomorphs before.¡± James nodded. ¡°I think we should all know. But we can¡¯t. It¡¯s not sinister, it¡¯s just a tragedy. We can know we lost someone, but we can¡¯t push any harder.¡± El stared for a bit, then pulled the chair out and dropped into it. ¡°Well that fucking sucks!¡± She said. It absolutely did, James agreed with her with a nod. It sucked like how El had probably lost some of her own friends and didn¡¯t remember them. The thought struck him like a truck. El had probably lost friends. And James had never told her. What the hell? Why had he never made time to just let her know? To help her put herself back together? He *knew*, from how he¡¯d been having lost Sarah, just how much that could destroy a person. Why hadn¡¯t he said something? He opened his mouth to speak. Only he didn¡¯t. There was a disconnect in his attempt to say something and his actions. He was looking at his computer screen again, almost being dismissive of El. James pushed the screen aside, and looked up again. Opened his mouth. Blinked, and said nothing. Tried. Failed. ¡°You¡¯re acting fuckin¡¯ weird today.¡± El said. She was sitting across the desk doing something on her phone, apparently having taken his distracted mindset as an end to the conversation. He checked the clock on his screen, and internally scowled at the part of him that didn¡¯t actually know what time it was supposed to be. ¡°Probably.¡± James said. ¡°I can¡¯t say why, though.¡± It was a little sad that he¡¯d gotten good at the technicality-laced skill of slipping stuff past memory or language blockers. El narrowed her eyes, tipping her phone down to stare at him. Then she rolled her shoulder, jostling the ghostly fish projection still trying to hide in her hair. ¡°Speaky.¡± She whispered. ¡°Am I an idiot, or¡­?¡± ¡°I can hear it.¡± The infomorph¡¯s voice was a tiny, distant sound. Like it was calling from a hundred miles away. But James¡¯ heart leapt all the same. ¡°Help me?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± El threw her phone on the desk and half-stood, leaning over James¡¯ computer to try to grab him. ¡°Hey. You¡¯ve got a thing in your head. Hold still, we¡¯re gonna¡­¡± He knew what they were gonna, of course. James was pretty familiar with infomorphic surgery, which was another sentence that he liked a lot and filed away to use in the future. There was a problem, though. He didn¡¯t know where he¡¯d picked up the passenger, though Route Horizon was probably a good guess, since it was directly stopping him from telling El about her lost friends. But it had a certain naked brutal hostility to it that panicked him, and the feeling only started rising as his brain made the connection that El was gonna kick it out of his head. Because infomorphs like this were both very dangerous, and very stupid. James realized this one must have come from the Sewer at about the same time it realized that there was only one way to keep censoring the information it was latched onto, and it stopped James¡¯ heart. Or started to, anyway. Even with comprehensive neurological control, which it didn¡¯t have, it still would have taken a minute to actually shut his body down. And the camraconda in the room that was a trained EMT reacted way faster to him choking and falling out of his chair than that. James froze halfway to the floor, and El lunged for him before the parasite in his head could do anything worse. There was a flutter of fins like seraphim wings, and a rippling sensation across James¡¯ thoughts. He blinked, and lost a chunk of time. And then he hit the floor with an ¡®oomph¡¯, organs still working and psyche clear of intruders. ¡°Fucking hell, it¡¯s never just a normal day around here is it?¡± El rolled off him and flopped herself on the floor of his office like she was going to make a carpet angel, grunting as the elder camraconda slithered across her to check on James. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He said, waving off the attempts to help. ¡°I just¡­ holy shit, how long has that been there?¡± ¡°No idea! A while, though. It was buried, until you tried to say something.¡± El relayed information from her young infomorph companion. ¡°Some kinda name eater, I guess?¡± James closed his eyes, relief rapidly being replaced by dread again. ¡°Not names.¡± He muttered. ¡°Just¡­ a concept. We were talking about lost friends.¡± He gave his core a workout, swinging his arms and pulling himself up to a sitting position next to El. James looked down at her lightly scarred face, framed by blonde and neon red hair with a fish fading away into it. ¡°You had friends, once.¡± He said. ¡°You must have. And I wish I¡¯d told you sooner. The math didn¡¯t line up, on the Velocity, waaaaaay back when you were showing Anesh and I your hometown dungeon. You¡­ El, you must have lost people. And¡­ and¡­¡± He trailed off, looking away out the bottom of his window as the sunset gave way to dusk and glittering skyscraper lights. And. And he didn¡¯t know what to say. Just that he had to say something. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± El¡¯s quiet voice broke his racing train of thought. ¡°What?¡± James said. ¡°You¡­ oh. You said Speaker was helping you with your memories, is this¡­?¡± He felt a small bit of hope. But El just shook her head. ¡°Nah. It¡¯s just¡­ I dunno, there¡¯s a lot of shit in my life that doesn''t add up. And yeah, that¡¯s *counting* all this!¡± She windmilled her arms over her head, still laying on his floor. ¡°I¡¯m too good in a team. I¡¯ve got these weird in jokes that no one else knows. And the math thing you said, I guess, let¡¯s pretend I knew that one.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± James said again. ¡°Eh.¡± El sighed. ¡°I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, you just almost fucking died trying to tell me. That¡¯s cool. You¡¯re way too good to me, in general. But¡­ they¡¯re gone, you know? And I already knew that. But I¡¯m still here, and I like being here, and I like me. If I were friends with someone, and *I* died and vanished from all human memory, *I¡¯d* want them to be happy, you know?¡± ¡°That¡¯s really specific.¡± ¡°Specificity is the core of self understanding.¡± The camraconda chimed in, having decided that James wasn¡¯t about to spontaneously die. El burst out laughing. A laugh that went on a little too long, and ended with a few sobs mixed in. ¡°I¡­ I just¡­ I am, you know? I¡¯m happy enough. I freaked out and left the first time, but ended up here again like it¡¯s fucking fate, and I¡¯m happy now. This fucking place is a family. And also my mom is here, so that¡¯s literally true. And it¡¯s great! And it¡¯s great and I¡¯m here because my friends are dead, and I don¡¯t even know¡­¡± She¡¯d curled up, moving up to a seated position, knees pulled up to her chest. Which was convenient, because it made it easy for James to shuffle himself up next to her, and wrap an arm around El¡¯s shoulders. As he did so, the camraconda elder slithered around behind her, dragging his tail around her back as he pressed against El¡¯s side. Even the small faded projected form of Speaker slid out of El¡¯s hair, long form and a hundred fins hugging the side of her neck. They sat like that for a while, as El loosened her cynical grip on the emotion she¡¯d been trying to hold back. Which is how they were still sitting when there was yet another knock on James¡¯ door. ¡°Huh, they were right, you¡¯re actually in your office.¡± Nate said, leaning in. ¡°Do you¡­ uh¡­ am I interrupting something?¡± He raised his eyebrows. ¡°Yes.¡± James said, while at the same time, El answered with ¡°Nah.¡± She sniffed and wiped at her nose with her sleeve, adding, ¡°I¡¯m good, it¡¯s okay.¡± In a small voice. ¡°Cool.¡± Nate said, choosing to believe El and holding up his arm to show one of the copper and bone Status Quo bracers. ¡°James, what the fuck is wrong with these things?¡± ¡°Gonna have to be more specific there boss.¡± James said, extracting himself from the hug and rising to wobbly feet before stabilizing himself on his desk. ¡°Wrong how?¡± Nate tapped the bracer, scowling at it with an actually angry look. ¡°This one won¡¯t switch to blocking bullets, and I can¡¯t figure out how to make it.¡± ¡°Is it a new one?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, a copy?¡± ¡°Yeah, does that matter?¡± He nodded. ¡°Sorta. The bracers actually have to have an attack pass through their potential shield zone, or whatever you wanna call it, before you can switch to that. So just go shoot past it with a few types of gun and you¡¯ll be good. Oh, make sure someone¡¯s wearing it, though.¡± Nate¡¯s eyes screwed up in concentration as he flipped through the projected menu of the magic item. ¡°Okay, so, I can make this one switch to vehicle impact, four door sedan impact, or *Honda* impact. What¡¯s up with that?¡± ¡°I love this place.¡± El gave a wet snort of laughter from the floor. ¡°It lets you get pretty specific.¡± James acknowledged. ¡°But don¡¯t. There¡¯s no difference between the shield effect, so go as wide as possible. Like, broadsword or rapier are both options, but just ¡®swords¡¯ covers both of them.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t it start with ¡®bladed weapon strike¡¯?¡± Nate asked. ¡°Why not just use that?¡± ¡°You can, yeah. Oh! Though that brings something up. ¡®Weapon¡¯ doesn¡¯t count tools, so kitchen knives slip through.¡± James snapped his fingers as he remembered. ¡°Guns also suck, actually? I don¡¯t actually think it lets you go for ¡®bullet¡¯? But sometimes it¡¯s really irritatingly specific on what it wants you to think at it.¡± Nate nodded, staring at the bracer. ¡°Huh. Weird. This one has .45 and .38 already in it. But not 9mm? What are we even training these things on? And why won¡¯t it let me just pick ¡®handgun¡¯?¡± ¡°If you pick ¡®handgun¡¯, it blocks physical strikes from the gun, not the bullets.¡± Jame clarified. ¡°Also Nate please, those charges take two days to regenerate.¡± ¡°Right.¡± The chef and ex-spy didn¡¯t even have the grace to look even a little embarrassed. ¡°Okay, thanks. I¡¯ll leave you to your... thing. We¡¯re still drafting a contact plan, but it probably won¡¯t be something we put into action for a few days. So, you know, go home and get some sleep or something.¡± James wasn¡¯t really tired. He was going to tell them that, but ended up yawning instead, and Nate was gone with a brief chuckle before James was done. ¡°Go sleep or something.¡± El said with an uncoordinated wave of a hand, still on his floor. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, and I promise not to vandalize your office much.¡± ¡°I will also promise that, but mean it.¡± The elder camraconda said. James left, feeling entirely uncertain about how his office would look, if and when he ever returned to it. _____ He opened his eyes, some time later, in a dream. Well, he didn¡¯t open his eyes really, because you didn¡¯t have eyes in dreams. And he didn¡¯t know it was a dream right away, though James could already feel the soft tug of waking reality pulling at him from outside his cocoon of sleep. Some time later, after he¡¯d left the Lair, gone home, enjoyed the intimacy of his partners, taken a shower, watched too many random videos about crows on Youtube, and eventually fallen asleep in a jumble of blankets, James *became aware* that he was dreaming. The road wasn¡¯t like the twisting highway of Route Horizon. Instead, it was simple black asphalt, maybe one and a half pickup trucks wide. It baked under a dark sun, as dry grass stabbed through numerous cracks in it seeking the face of the sky. A roughly splintered, and occasionally broken, wooden fence ran the length of the right side, separating the road from the eternal field of swishing grass in that direction. James was walking. One foot down, then the other. He was hot, exhausted, but couldn¡¯t stop walking. He had nowhere to be, but he had to keep going. He had been walking for a very long time. But it was as he became aware of the dreamstate he was in, that he clued in to the fact that he was not walking alone. Something was next to him, something shaped like an open sky and a watchful guide. They had a lot of feathers. James had gotten really, really good, at keeping himself half dreaming in these places, and not just because of the dungeon skill orb he¡¯d picked up a lifetime and a half ago. And unfortunately, one of the tricks was to engage in sincerity, and not let sarcasm or cynicism creep in. So he refrained from actually thinking too hard on the thought of ¡°Man come on, it has been a *long* day.¡± He just kept waking. One step after the other. They were in no hurry. The sun shone solid strings of gold. The grass waved in liquid patterns in the still wind. His feet ached, as much as a dream would allow. James stopped walking when he realized his companion had. Turned back to see what was going on, and saw the sky-thing staring out into one of the fields. He followed the nonlinear gaze to what it was looking at, and spotted a scarecrow. Just a simple assembly of sticks and straw, but wearing a black leather coat, identical to the one James had tied around his waist, and that he¡¯d used to cherish in waking life. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± He asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The cartomorph said, voice a series of flutes and chimes, filled with wonder. ¡°It¡¯s your road.¡± James reminded it. The guide shook itself, shook the head that it had poorly masked itself behind. ¡°I awoke here. This was already yours.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± James leaned on the fence next to his mind¡¯s new inhabitant, and looked out at the scarecrow. ¡°Well, good morning.¡± They stayed there for a century. Just two walking companions, resting before the next leg of the journey, watching an immobile scarecrow. ¡°What am I?¡± The creature asked. James smiled. ¡°Whatever you want to be.¡± He replied. ¡°There¡¯s no bargain or deal. No stipulations. You¡¯re family. This can be your home, as long as you want it to be.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± They waited for another eternal summer. Eventually, James turned and looked at the rough mask the cartomorph was wearing around him. His alert mind couldn¡¯t quite explain why, but he felt like it was¡­ shoddy. Incomplete. ¡°Want me to grab you a coat?¡± James asked, motioning to the scarecrow. ¡°No.¡± The guide recoiled. ¡°It¡¯s not mine.¡± They said, with a ripple of fear across their cloudy sky. James gave a dream shrug. ¡°It¡¯s fine. You don¡¯t need one. Take your time.¡± They took some time. The navigator didn¡¯t get any better at masking its alien nature. But that was fine; James didn¡¯t need it to. Humanity wasn¡¯t anything special, and his friends could be whatever they wanted. ¡°I want to see the end of the road.¡± The navigator said, one dream forever later. He grinned. ¡°I dunno if there¡¯s anything at the end.¡± James said. ¡°Exactly.¡± The living map shifted the sky in a matching smile. They walked for a long time. But, impressive for someone who had nearly been blown up just earlier in the afternoon, James didn¡¯t wake up tired. Chapter 186 ¡°Fill my wounds with molten gold, and make me whole again¡± -Aisha¡¯s Embrace, Destiny 2- _____ There was a certain weary demoralized collapse that occurred in places like strip malls that James had never been able to fully articulate. Sometimes, they were okay. Especially ones that had a certain amount of overlap, with courtyards and restaurants and such. Downtown streets where there were apartments built over small businesses also tended to avoid the process for longer. But the majority of copy-pasted strip malls that he¡¯d experienced in the US would, inevitably, tend toward decay. Not even a lack of maintenance or a lack of business, but a more psychological decay. Something twisted and collapsing in the emotional space that overlayed on the physical. Small exhaustions amplified larger and larger until there was nothing left but a dry, soulless zone of pure commerce and no humanity. These were spaces where people arrived, made purchases, and left. No one enjoyed being there, no one lingered, no one met friends there. You didn¡¯t have a favorite memory from the grocery store, or a faint historical fondness for the mass market casual clothing outlet. People just got in, got their stuff, and got out, and tried not to think about how empty it all was. Unless, of course, you were here to meet someone in a public place, for the purpose of opening a diplomatic channel. This strip mall was one big circle with shops on both sides, which was a great way to make traffic in the central parking lot a living hell. One side faced outward with your usual massive grocery store, flanked by an omnipresent Starbucks, a couple small restaurants, a place that sold lawn ornaments, and a half dozen other small businesses doomed to failure. On the other side of the parking lot was another row of mostly restaurants with a few business offices mixed in; great for if you wanted lunch and to get your taxes done, or file an insurance claim while you waited for your pizza. That space had a little courtyard in the center of it, with a tall clocktower and a scattering of old wrought iron tables, before you would come out the other side to the other half, dominated by a movie theater. It was a lot going on, really. It was also mostly entirely empty on this dismal Wednesday afternoon. Grey skies threatening to drizzle but not full on rain, a scent on the air like wet sand, only a fraction of the parking lot occupied, and a clammy feeling just from being outside. James was wondering if maybe, just maybe, they¡¯d picked a slightly less public spot than he¡¯d expected. Two days ago, a small group of Order knights had started putting together a plan. Method of contact, team roster, contingencies, escape routes. Two plans, both as simple as they could make them; one for nonviolent contact and resolution, one as a fallback for failure. The Order had a lot of resources at its disposal. Not on the level of a military, or even a major city sized police force really. Response wasn¡¯t actually doing the job of *every* aspect of the police they were trying to obsolete right now after all; they just had the advantage of selection and teleportation. But that didn¡¯t mean the Order didn¡¯t have a hundred tricks up their collective sleeves, and their initial plan worked to leverage as many as possible into an overwhelming advantage if needed. One day ago, James had spent some time in Officium Mundi. Nothing serious or strenuous, just something to keep his brain distracted and rearrange his sleep schedule so he¡¯d be awake properly for this. He¡¯d gotten a skill rank in a blueberry strudel recipe, among other things, which was probably going to be the highlight of his week, and accidentally cracked an orange which netted him an associates degree in interior design, which would *not* be the high point of his week. This morning, he¡¯d woken up in the Lair¡¯s residential basement, detangled himself from Anesh and Alanna who were also waking up, gotten dressed in the outfit that had been assembled for him to be as nondescript as possible, and blearily made his way upstairs to sit in the dining area mostly by himself and pretend a nutrigrain bar and water was breakfast. And then, settled in to wait for the rest of the team to collect. It took him some time to shake off the feeling like he was a teenager about to get on a flight for a family vacation at ¡®way too early¡¯ o¡¯clock. The presence of teleportation made this much easier, really. The presence of Nate giving the group their last minute refresher on orders helped too. ¡°Karen and Alanna should be the only ones to make contact.¡± Nate said. ¡°Specifically Karen. Alanna, you¡¯re the muscle; listen, keep alert, be eyes and ears for everyone in the link, but don¡¯t talk to them. Let them think you¡¯re stupid.¡± Nate¡¯s orders were dry and clinical, a mechanical process, the definition of ¡®nothing personal¡¯. ¡°Team one,¡± he turned to Sarah and James, one of the two of them - the one who wasn¡¯t James - saluting him energetically. ¡°You¡¯ll be going in a half hour ahead of time. Get lunch. Settle in. You¡¯re on a date, and you¡¯re not important. Fade away, don¡¯t engage unless explicitly told to. Use the glasses, people watch, check out *everyone*, got it?¡± ¡°Lunch, spy things, pretend I¡¯m fawning over James. Got it!¡± Sarah snapped her fingers, leaning over to drape herself across James¡¯ shoulders. ¡°Hey¡­!¡± James started to protest, then just paused, and let the sentiment die. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± He said with a chuckle. ¡°Petition to change our name to Team Romance?¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Nate turned away to look at the larger chunk of nine people sitting around in more obviously dangerous gear. ¡°Team two, you all have your squad positions. Rooftops and skies, stay in pairs, your job is to look for anything obvious coming at us, and to call it out. Again, don¡¯t engage unless ordered. Stay out of sight if you can. Dave, keep Pen as high as she can go, got it?¡± Nods and reliable looks. Team two was the only mixed team, camracondas and humans and one dragon. They were backup. In case things went wrong, they were the ones who would come in shooting. ¡°Team three, on site within half a mile of the Alchemist¡¯s home base.¡± Nate said, repeating what they already knew. Team three was actually just a response team, *mostly* made up of people who had, and still were, Nate¡¯s prep cooks in the kitchen. ¡°Do literal nothing unless we verify hostages.¡± Ann nodded, cracking her knuckles. ¡°Got it boss.¡± She said. Next to her, Knife-In-Fangs made a mechanical hiss. ¡°Understood.¡± ¡°Last up, team four stays here.¡± Nate nodded once at Anesh and Reed and a few other Research members. ¡°In the event that any one part of this goes to hell, you¡¯re here to cover our exit. Don¡¯t¡­¡± Reed cut him off. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything unless ordered?¡± He asked cheekily. Which mostly got Nate to just glare at him, until he relented. ¡°We won¡¯t do anything until ordered.¡± He quietly said, sinking down in his chair. ¡°Good.¡± Nate snapped. ¡°Teams two and three leave in an hour, team one hour thirty. The meeting is in two hours. Any questions?¡± There were none. ¡°Everyone double check everything you can. We¡¯ll deploy out of the briefing room. See you then.¡± An hour of helping Alanna fit her bulletproof vest, flicking through skulljack protocols, listening to Karen rehearse her offer, and generally trying not to have an anxiety attack later, and James was in Utah again. The last time he was in Utah, someone had tried to blow him up, twice, before he¡¯d redecorated a wall with his attacker¡¯s brains. So far, this time was going better. Mostly because he and Sarah were sitting in that little courtyard outside a restaurant called the Ham House, which had been a powerful enough name for James to become amused and not really lose the feeling even as he knew they were creeping closer to the appointed time. ¡°You know,¡± James said as he rapidly drummed his foot on the brick ground of the courtyard in a nervous staccato, ¡°having lunch is a different experience like this.¡± ¡°What, overpriced but dressed up as middle class?¡± Sarah asked, picking at the salad she¡¯d ordered. It had, unsurprisingly, strips of some kind of smoked ham in it. James rolled his eyes. ¡°You know what I mean.¡± He challenged. ¡°Yes, but we can¡¯t talk about it.¡± Sarah reminded him with a sly smile. ¡°We¡¯re on a *date* after all. Romance, James!¡± Narrowing his eyes, James focused as best he could, and split his attention. Tuning out the noise of a semi truck backing up and the winter chill, he pulled a trick he¡¯d been working on with Anesh and Alanna, and spoke out loud while at the same time saying something different through the skulljack link tucked under the scarf he was wearing. ¡°Right, romance!¡± He said out loud, while through the mind-machine interface he said ¡°Just let me know if anyone walks by behind me.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s neat!¡± Sarah said cheerfully. ¡°How do you do that? Years of zen training?¡± ¡°Orbs.¡± James drew the word out with a vibrating tone of voice, getting a laugh out of Sarah. ¡°There, see? Humor. Classic date stuff.¡± The motion of someone walking behind Sarah across the courtyard caught his eye, and he pinged her across the link as she laughed. ¡°Hang on, checking someone. Make small talk.¡± While Sarah said something out loud that James didn¡¯t process but was probably more relaxed than he would be, he looked past her and focused on the other person with the Office procured glasses he was wearing. The floating note of ¡®Sarah Moyle, Order of Endless Rooms, Knight¡¯ blinked out as he looked over her shoulder, trying to focus just enough to get the glasses to trigger but not enough to draw the other person¡¯s attention. ¡®Richard Daniels, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Bishop¡¯ was what he got from the man walking past rapidly with his head down carrying a nondescript tote bag. ¡°Okay, probably nothing.¡± James said, turning back to Sarah. ¡°Unless the Mormons are¡­ no, no. I don¡¯t wanna finish that thought.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right you don¡¯t.¡± Sarah snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t make us into¡­ uh¡­ heretics? Apostates?¡± ¡°One of those is probably correct.¡± James took a light sip of his drink, following Nate¡¯s *very explicit* command to not drink too much and end up needing to use the bathroom during combat. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m just jumpy.¡± Sarah shrugged. ¡°I mean, I get why. But we¡¯ve still got half an hour or so, and this place is just flat out empty. So I¡¯m gonna enjoy my date! It¡¯s been actual years since I¡¯ve had an actual date, and I love everyone in the Order but it¡¯s not the same.¡± ¡°Shit, you know, we didn¡¯t talk about this much. I feel bad for not asking; were you in a relationship before¡­?¡± James made a kind of circular gesture with his hands, struggling to convey ¡®dungeon kidnapping¡¯ with interpretive dance. Sarah stuck her tongue out and made a dismissive noise. ¡°Nah. Uh¡­ I actually¡­¡± Her cheeks had a hint of red creep in, which got raised eyebrows from James. Sarah was kind of the least embarrassed person he knew, in general. ¡°I¡¯d been going to ask Alanna out.¡± She said. ¡°Just, you know, see how that went.¡± James glanced away, not wanting her to see his grin, instead watching someone ordering their own lunch through the windows of a nearby food place. ¡®Michael Holt, Rainy Day Insurance, Insurance Agent¡¯. James shook his head at the man¡¯s misfortune and looked back at Sarah. ¡°You know you¡¯re absolutely still allowed to do that, right?¡± He said. ¡°Hah.¡± Sarah shook her head with a sad smile, looking down at her folded arms on the table. ¡°I dunno. Everything¡¯s gotten weird. And it¡¯s great and all, but maybe dating while I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m gonna be in another life-or-deather next week is a bad idea? Also I don¡¯t wanna step on your toes. We¡¯re friends again, and that¡¯s great and I don¡¯t wanna mess your life up! Also¡­ actually, is Alanna not straight? I didn¡¯t really want to ask, but *since we¡¯re here*...¡± ¡°This is a great lunch. My date is asking me about other women.¡± James hummed to himself, scanning a woman pushing a stroller past the mouth of the courtyard and into the parking lot. ¡°Sarah, you¡¯re the most¡­ most. You¡¯re the most person I know. I don¡¯t know how to say that better. Just *ask* her. But also I¡¯m pretty sure Alanna¡¯s sexuality is like a hurricane, unconfined by human conventions, but also sometimes like an incredibly embarrassed hurricane, which is adorable. You¡¯re either perfect for each other, or terrible for each other. Just ask her.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a good friend and terrible at advice all at once.¡± Sarah told him. ¡°On your six.¡± She sent at the same time through the skulljack. James grinned as she picked up the trick almost right away. Raising his arms over his head in a stretch, he twisted himself around to reach down and rustle through one of the pockets of his coat, vision briefly flicking over the heavily tattooed woman in a thick bomber jacket that had taken a seat a few tables away from them and was reading a local newspaper. His grin vanished as his glasses supplied him with a name and title. ¡®¡°Violence¡± Melody, Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack, Enforcer¡¯. James slapped the smile back onto his face with enforced emotion as he turned back to Sarah. Opening up his link to the rest of the group, James sent out an alert. ¡°Hey. We¡¯ve got someone here from that group that Nate ran into that took the chemical plant dungeon a few months back.¡± He relayed the woman¡¯s name and a memory file of her appearance as he¡¯d seen her before his brain mixed it up too much. ¡°Do we call this off?¡± ¡°Hold on.¡± Nate¡¯s dry, professional message came back. The two of them waited, seconds seeming to creep like hours. After a couple bites of salad that lasted roughly one epoch, Sarah cocked her head to look past James, then turned back to him. ¡°I like her hair.¡± She said in an effortlessly casual voice. ¡°What?¡± James startled out of his tense waiting. ¡°That girl¡¯s hair.¡± Sarah said, and James saw through their shared video link that the ¡®girl¡¯ in question, the *enforcer* in question, flicked her eyes up from her paper toward Sarah and the back of his own head. ¡°It¡¯s cool! All purple and sparkles and stuff. I should get hair like that.¡± James let slip a laugh bordering on a giggle that surprised him as he made the noise. ¡°Hey, maybe ask *her* out.¡± He said. ¡°Bet she¡¯d share her hair secrets.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a good plan.¡± Sarah tapped at her chin. ¡°That¡¯s a terrible plan, don¡¯t listen to me. Ever.¡± James replied. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. The casual talk still hid an undercurrent of an edge in their voices. If nothing else, the woman behind them worked for people who committed acts of industrial violence inside the US that *never made it to the public eye*, and on top of that, she literally had a moniker of Violence. Sitting with his back to someone like that was just a tiny bit stressful for James. On that thought, Nate decided to get back to them. ¡°We¡¯re going ahead. Team two on alert. Frequent status updates. Team one, stay there, prepare to leave if the meeting isn¡¯t a trap.¡± James kept himself from nodding at the digital words. ¡°Roger.¡± He sent back. ¡°How¡¯s the salad?¡± He asked Sarah out loud. ¡°Hammy.¡± She said with an emotion James could only describe as cheerful disdain. ¡°You doing okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine.¡± James answered both the spoken question and the unspoken ¡®are you okay with this twist¡¯ at the same time. ¡°Also what did you actually expect from a Ham House?¡± ¡°*The* Ham House, James.¡± Sarah reminded him. The words had him grinning despite his worries, and he kept that smile on his face as a smartly dressed middle aged couple walked past and into the insurance office just down one of the outdoor paths out of the courtyard. ¡®Jim Reese, Central Intelligence Agency, Field Support¡¯ and ¡®Cathy Balker, Central Intelligence Agency, Nobody¡¯ came back to him through the glasses. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Sarah couldn¡¯t help raise her eyebrows she saw the same thing he did through their link. ¡°Nate!¡± James called in silently through the skulljack. ¡°What are the odds the CIA needs insurance from a town of three thousand rich old guys in Utah?¡± ¡°Zero.¡± Nate said instantly. ¡°Anyone else?¡± ¡°Not yet.¡± James looked around the sad brick courtyard with its faux Roman columns and general sense of apathy seeping into the air. ¡°Just us. And the Wolfpack girl. And the CIA. Are you sure we should¡­¡± Nate cut him off, which was impressive when they could send skulljack messages roughly as fast as they decided to. ¡°Team two reports the Alchemists arriving. This is turning into a mess, but we can still come out of this with something of value. Your call if we leave.¡± It was a cruel thing to ask James; someone who even at the best of times would make what he knew were bad choices to avoid disappointing anyone. He tried to step back from that impulse to just agree, and rolled the decision in his head. Then, he remembered that he didn¡¯t have to do it alone, because his head was shared with a dozen other people in a small way right now. ¡°Karen. How do you feel about this?¡± James asked. ¡°If we cancel now, they may not agree to another meeting for some time.¡± She said. ¡°And that is time we don¡¯t want to waste.¡± ¡°Not what James asked.¡± Alanna¡¯s signature jumped in to the conversation. ¡°You up for this?¡± Karen paused before replying, and James could imagine the woman sighing deeply. ¡°Teleport us out the instant something goes wrong.¡± She addressed Alanna publically. ¡°But yes, I am ready.¡± Out of the corner of his eye, James watched a trio of teenagers with thin coats and thick backpacks go by, laden down with plastic takeout bags. The glasses identified them as students at a Moth Hill High School. He shook his head as he nostalgically fabricated memories of a time when he, too, would have snuck off his closed campus to buy lunch, though he stopped as soon as the group of students split around a pair of men entering the courtyard. The kids sat thirty feet away, loudly chatting about which teachers they hated, while the men stopped, standing underneath the clock tower. The older one, grey hair and a charcoal suit jacket, pulled an honest to god gold pocket watch out of his jacket pocket and checked the time. Two steps behind him, his companion who was both younger and taller than him, sporting a hooked nose and a resume of scars on his face, slowly scanned around the pavilion, eyes narrowing as he glared at the students that paid them no mind. Big bodyguard energy, there. ¡°They¡¯re here.¡± Sarah sent through the link. ¡®Maximilian Hart, Alchemist¡¯s Guild, Alchemist¡¯, ¡®Joey Kim, Alchemist¡¯s Guild, Nobel¡¯ The thought James kept to himself was ¡®holy shit, they actually call them Nobles on purpose.¡¯ ¡°They¡¯re late.¡± The voice of the Alchemist snapped out, making the unpleasant weather feel just a little chillier. ¡°Or are they planning to just shoot us and be done with it?¡± He demanded of his bodyguard. The mercenary leaned down and spoke softly into the Alchemist¡¯s ear, getting a snort from the older man. ¡°Hey. Normal date stuff.¡± Sarah muttered, reaching over and grabbing James¡¯ hand in her own, making a sappy face at him. Over the link she added ¡°The Nobel just said neither of their watchers are snipers, and he wasn¡¯t talking about us.¡± ¡°Noted. Team two groups, begin rotating to secondary positions. Watch for reaction.¡± Nate commanded. ¡°Let¡¯s not keep them waiting. Envoy arriving¡­ now.¡± Without any other preamble, there was a small pop of displaced air, and Karen and Alanna appeared about ten feet away from the Alchemist. The ornery telepads even getting their facing right, for that extra dramatic touch. And without a moment of hesitation, Karen stepped forward and offered a handshake. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± She said, like she wasn¡¯t just someone who had teleported onto the field. ¡°Our apologies for being slightly tardy.¡± Karen brought an effortless calm to the interaction that James envied. Sarah made an easy show of glancing over her shoulder at where James was staring. Both of them staying in character as people who weren¡¯t involved. She muttered something out loud, before shrugging and turning back to pretending to have a conversation with him. James played along, trying not to think about the fact that the Nobel had twitched for a weapon when the other members of the Order had appeared, and trying *really* hard to not think about the risk his partner was in personally right now. ¡°Shall we sit?¡± Karen offered, motioning to one of the dozen remaining empty tables. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to inconvenience you.¡± James listened through the link for a few more lines as Karen and the Alchemist - who identified himself as Euphrates - went back and forth making passive aggressive verbal snipes at each other, before he realized he needed to stop focusing on that and pay attention to what he was supposed to be doing. Otherwise he¡¯d be helplessly snickering at Karen running verbal loops around the man for the rest of the meeting. ¡°They seem like good friends.¡± Sarah said out loud, listening in physically to the meeting. She said it with such earnest cheer that James was inclined to give a snort of laughter along with the Wolfpack woman who obviously overheard and disagreed. ¡°Uh huh.¡± James failed to agree. ¡°So, what¡¯re we doing after lunch? Did we have plans?¡± He felt like he was getting better at the veneer of the casual, even as he kept his eyes open. ¡°Eh, we¡¯ll figure it out when we¡¯re done eating.¡± Sarah said, sending silently, ¡°We should stick around for the whole thing. This shouldn¡¯t take long, right?¡± It probably wouldn¡¯t. This really was just a preliminary meeting to talk about future interactions. There was originally one big barrier, and now there were two potential problems. At first, it was just that most of this would come down to what the Order could offer the Alchemists in the short term; the term they cared about with their profit motive ideology. And the answer to that was, they just didn¡¯t have a lot on that front. The Order wasn¡¯t poor, and in the next few months, they stood to begin bringing in truly absurd amounts of money from mass material sales. JP was already talking about messing with the commodities market, but James was reasonably sure that wasn¡¯t a realistic expectation. But *one* Alchemist had been worth almost two hundred million. A number so patently absurd for a single person, James still hadn¡¯t fully grasped it. The Order of Endless Rooms didn¡¯t come in at that net worth *total*. Though dungeontech kind of skewed actual monetary value. Still, the biggest issue here that wasn¡¯t the CIA poking around was that when it came to negotiations, they were essentially offering a promise of an optimistic future, in exchange for a change in behavior now. And the Alchemists didn¡¯t have a *lot* of reason to listen. Like Reed had said, life was already pretty good for them. So they turned to other offers. Security, information, new dungeontech to explore. Things the Alchemists might value over money. James wasn¡¯t sure if it would work, but¡­ well, Karen was still talking. The new problem was that the CIA *was* poking around, and the presence of two other groups who really weren¡¯t here by coincidence was not good. At all. James checked in on the developing plan for what to do about that. Currently, it was ¡®finish the meeting, then tail everyone¡¯. But even as he read that standing plan, something more went wrong. From a nearby rooftop, a message came in from Ethan, watching the more open space around the courtyard. ¡°Hey guys? Four dudes with guns just got out of a camo pattern truck and are standing around. Magic glasses say they¡¯re ¡®Utah Patriots¡¯¡± ¡°Two of them are. One is a driver for a shipping company, one is a teacher at a middle school. They¡¯re all in camo though.¡± Simon corrected his squad mate. ¡°Nate?¡± ¡°Newly formed far right militia. They don¡¯t like being called a militia. No one gives a fuck. What guns?¡± There was a pause as Nate, new to skulljack operations, linked into Ethan and Simon¡¯s feeds. ¡°M15s. Shields to 5.56 when they start shooting.¡± ¡°When?¡± James tensed up, sending and saying the word out loud at the same time. ¡°Yeah, when. These guys are gonna be loud, stupid, and you¡¯re going to piss them off. Karen, report.¡± Across the courtyard, Karen cut herself off mid sentence, another comically effective power play, and raised a hand. ¡°Excuse me.¡± She said politely, turning her head slightly to communicate with the group. ¡°They are open to negotiations. I am unsure if they have captives, but I would estimate no. Euphrates doesn¡¯t seem to know why they began their infiltration experiments either, and if nothing else, we may be able to turn him personally. In fact, I am not sure if he represents their entire organization, or just a splinter faction. He is nervous.¡± ¡°Good. Keep talking. You¡¯ve got five minutes to wrap this up.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Karen turned back. ¡°My apologies for the interruption. Let¡¯s discuss lines of communication¡­¡± James tuned them out again, and cast his attention wide. The courtyard was seeing more foot traffic, and he dutifully picked out each one of them with his identification to check if they were an immediate threat. Students and the business crowd, a few contractors, nothing that stood out to him. He tried his best to keep up with Sarah¡¯s cheerful small talk, realizing halfway through that he probably was doing a better job convincing people he was in an exhausting relationship than a healthy one, but that it would be convincing enough all the same. Then Dave deployed more bad news. ¡°Yo. Police cars are all headed your way.¡± ¡°All?¡± Three people on the link asked at once. ¡°Everyone shut up.¡± Nate ordered. And then added, ¡°Dave. All?¡± ¡°Yeah, like, we can see eight of them. Nine. Shit, twelve. Different city markings, too. They¡¯re from all over. All headed¡­ uh¡­!¡± Dave¡¯s link messages were a lot more in the moment expressive than most people¡¯s. A second later, he elaborated as to why he dropped off. ¡°Helicopter! Came out of nowhere. Almost hit us. Pen¡¯s fine. Cloak is still up.¡± James snorted, and felt a sudden clarity in his bones. He¡¯d been trying to take a back seat to this, let other people who were more qualified make the calls. James didn¡¯t *want* to be a leader. But right now, his instincts and common sense were howling at him from every direction that this was a stupid idea. Right now, he was the qualified person. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m calling it. I want no part of this. Everyone out. Karen, wrap it up.¡± He smiled at Sarah. ¡°Hey, you wanna get out of here?¡± He spoke. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± She sighed, moving to stand up. ¡°Thought you¡¯d never¡­ uh oh.¡± Sarah froze, one hand still pushing herself up the table. James followed her wide eyed line of sight to where another woman had just entered the courtyard. Her long grey hair, braided with what looked like small knives tied into the ends, dropping like gravity had only just caught up with it. She grinned as she stood up from her arrival point. Where she¡¯d fallen from the sky. The woman - *old*, James realized, skin stretched over bones and a birdlike face - brushed off the patchwork coat she was wearing The glasses said *nothing* about her. ¡°Euphrates!¡± The woman cried in a voice that sounded like an enthusiastic grandmother greeting her favorite child, the kind of voice that didn¡¯t overwhelm with volume, but that everyone always heard clearly. ¡°Time to die!¡± ¡°Alanna. Get Karen out now. This is *not* our problem.¡± James said, trying to keep calm. ¡°Nate, we need¡­¡± He paused. The connection was down to Nate, half of team two, and everyone else. ¡°Sarah?¡± ¡°Reading.¡± She sent back. ¡°Let¡¯s run like hell.¡± ¡°Good call.¡± James stood and turned, mildly alarmed that the Wolfpack girl had vanished, and found himself facing down a cobblestone path out of this mess that was currently occupied by four angry looking men with angrier looking guns. ¡°Alchemist!¡± The foremost, and largest, one yelled. ¡°You fucking gypped us and we¡¯re here to collect!¡± ¡°Mister Moyer.¡± A soft, deadly dark voice of a man said suddenly as one of the CIA agents stepped out of the cover of a doorway, pistol leveled at the militia. ¡°I have some questions you are uniquely situated to answer.¡± ¡°Absolutely fuck this.¡± James said out loud, pulling out his telepad. Across the courtyard, Alanna slapped a hand on Karen¡¯s shoulder and did the same. They tore their pages at the same time. Vanished. James had a brief vision of a wall of burning grey flames. Solid, smooth, and entirely uninterested in offering him passage. The light and fire didn¡¯t hurt, but it did *deny*. The vision lasted only a brief moment, barely enough to even be sure it was real, before he smashed back into reality. Sarah reappeared next to him. Across the courtyard, Alanna and Karen reappeared as well, only a tiny wisp of pale grey fire following them back. ¡°Get me out of here!¡± The Alchemist was screaming at his bodyguard, the Nobel already moving to screen against the number of people who had apparently decided *now* was the time to take a run at his employer, two more of the mercenaries visible rushing toward them on one of the nearby flat commercial rooftops. ¡°No one¡¯s going anywhere. We¡¯ve got questions too.¡± James heard a young woman¡¯s voice say, cracking with nervous panic as she yelled. Looking past the clocktower, over to an outdoor table between a chocolatiers and a tiny art supply store, he saw the young students; one of the boys standing behind the other two, arms outstretched, a grey radiation the same color as what had cratered their telepad attempt seeping out into the ground. The other two held swords and bucklers, and James instantly gave up on trying to figure out how dangerous the weapons were at a glance. With high school students these days, they could be anything from theater props, to cheap crap they bought online, to actual ancestral magic blades pulled out of some underground vault. That last one seemed likely, given how his day was going. ¡°I feel perhaps that I have chosen a poor time¡­¡± The old woman joked with a razor sharp grin on her kind face. Her words were mostly eaten up as the yelling began and people did what people did best. Made a chaotic mess of things. ¡°Alanna?!¡± James flung over their link. ¡°All good.¡± His partner replied. ¡°Telepad failed. We need an out.¡± ¡°We can just make a run for the parking lot. Nate¡¯s gotta notice we¡¯re cut off.¡± Sarah said. ¡°It seems this man has some enemies. This explains why Euphrates was so nervous.¡± Karen said, somehow still looking completely unfazed by anything happening, ignoring the escalating shouting and threats of violence from just feet away from her. ¡°And why all these people are here. I shouldn¡¯t have doubted Nate¡¯s people; they all tracked the Alchemist. This could be worse. We can still just walk away. No one knows who *we* are.¡± James nodded, even as the yelling and threats of violence escalated. For all that half these people had brought guns, no one wanted to fire the first shot it seemed. ¡°Move toward us.¡± He told them. ¡°We can-¡° The sudden noise of sirens cut in, and James whipped his head around to see a thin membrane of grey peel back, like the parking lot was separated from them by an unnoticed wall. Whatever the thing the kid was doing to keep them from teleporting, it didn¡¯t seem to stop people coming *in*, and the noise of a half dozen different police and sheriff cars pulling up horizontal to the curb was enough to get some attention. ¡°Oh good! The police are here!¡± James yelled sarcastically. And then, James realized something. This was it. This was exactly where he wanted to be. There were five different groups in play, all mad at each other and not him, half of them had magic, one of them was some kind of immortal wizard that looked a bit like his grandma, and he was *prepared*. That calm rush of cool understanding came back to him. Through his link, he complied and shared a relative map of where everyone was and what their tactical objectives should be. Get Karen out first, keep the kids safe, kneecap the militia if possible, get out alive, grab anything that looked even remotely useful. This wasn¡¯t a disaster. This was an *opportunity*. For that moment, he saw the world as Nate must have; risky, yes, but a risk that could catapult the Order¡¯s strength forward. Then, just as Sarah was ducking behind a brick column and Alanna was slyly handing Karen a backup shield bracer where they were crouched behind a row of bushes, James saw the *other* CIA agent raise her gun and shoot her partner in the back from through the window of the insurance office. The gunshot and breaking glass silenced everything for a half second. And then all hell broke loose. Chapter 187 ¡°I think it¡¯s time we blow this scene. Get everybody and the stuff together. Okay. Three. Two. One. Let¡¯s jam.¡± -The Seatbelts, Tank!- _____ Gunshots rang out. Whatever grey lit magic the kid was doing to keep everyone trapped here, it seemed to keep sound in too; the gunshots were louder than they should have been, pops and cracks turned up to the point James was having trouble thinking. Also because they immediately started cracking against the golden grid of his shield bracer. And it was at that moment that he realized that most of the gunfire was from the police. And due to the fact that he and Sarah were sat closest to the parking lot, they were among the first targets. ¡°They¡¯re shooting at us!¡± Sarah yelled alongside the low whump of a grenade launcher and a can of tear gas crashing through a window, a manic laugh in her voice as she processed that fact amid the screams from the handful of employees and diners in the restaurants around them who were starting to realize there were bullets in the air. And that the police were, in fact, shooting at *everyone*. James checked his bracer. Twenty six shields left and dropping as the cops took aim. Badly, though. Only one in every five or six shots was coming close enough to trigger the shield. ¡°Back!¡± He called to Sarah, interposing himself between her and the cops, letting her keep her bracer set to something else. Sarah didn¡¯t run right away. Instead, she swept her arms back, planted one foot forward, and whipped an arm around in a wide windmill motion. Her ethereal magnetic musculature caught on the edge of the lawn furniture with the motion, and she leaned into it. And the table she and James had been sitting at spun away like a metal pinwheel, remnants of their lunch spraying into the surroundings while it crashed through the advancing front line of the police, sending men sprawling to the ground. ¡°Sorry!¡± Sarah yelled as the gunfire eased up while her targets sought cover and she sent one of the chairs on a similar vector before pulling back. James followed, sliding behind a low brick planter that had a tree in it near where Alanna and Karen had been having their now-aborted diplomatic meeting. ¡°Hell of a day, huh?¡± He asked Karen with a shaking voice as he ducked his head down out of the line of fire. The woman just looked back at him with raised eyebrows from her low crouch, pistol held pointed down in a professional grip in hands that still shook. A thundering detonation sounded, a thin lick of flames curling around their cover but not burning them. From around them, James tried to pick out the shouts and screams. The Alchemist''s Nobel guard was fighting the old lady, the militia was trying to leave, the police were¡­ just shooting people? Crushing the rude thought he had, James tried to analyze that, and found that it didn¡¯t matter in the moment. ¡°Okay. Alanna.¡° James met his partner¡¯s eyes. ¡°You ready for a boring job?¡± ¡°Always!¡± She replied. ¡°Get Karen out of here. There¡¯s a barrier or something, but that way,¡± he pointed down the right side path out of the courtyard, ¡°you can at least get around the corner and maybe into one of the shops. Get her clear.¡± ¡°I can-¡° ¡°No.¡± Alanna cut Karen off, clapping a hand onto her shoulder. She looked back at James. ¡°I love you. Don¡¯t die.¡± And then, during a brief lapse in the gunfire that was still chipping at the bricks and breaking windows around them, she shoved Karen to her feet and toward the fresh cover of one of the brick pillars, aiming for a path that would take them out of the line of fire. Karen was a lot of things, and James realized some of them might surprise him. But Karen also had a kid waiting for her. He turned to Sarah. ¡°Get to the kids. I¡¯ll get the Alchemist.¡± He said simply. Sarah nodded once, a riot of panic, determination, and manic glee warring for space on her face. Then she dropped to her stomach, and started crawling along the low brick wall. ¡°Can anyone else hear me?¡± James sent over his wavering link. The problem here was that Pendragon was the one carrying their central receiver, and Pendragon was outside of the barrier. And the local wi-fi braids they had were about as powerful as a cell phone hotspot; unreliable and not working well enough here. ¡°Team two, if you can hear me, hunker down and stay alive.¡± He sent. And then, James moved to peek up over the wall, but spotted a man in a police uniform and vest moving with specific steps around behind his cover. No, not specific. His brain had just enough time to register it as a jerky, rough motion before the cop raised his gun and started putting bullets down on James¡¯ flank. James shot back. The Walther he¡¯d had in a concealed back holster dropping into his hand like an old friend, the vectors and potential evasion lines from his enhanced Aim letting him put down four shots, three of which took the man¡¯s legs out. Something was wrong. And as bitter as James could be about the structure of US law enforcement, he wasn¡¯t going to start slaughtering cops if he could help it. At least not until he ran out of shield charges. Already only seventeen charges left. He winced. No time to worry. Most of the rest of the police were dragging their fallen away from Sarah¡¯s impromptu projectiles, so James had some seconds before they started shooting at him again. He peeked over the wall. The woman who reminded him of his grandma was dueling the Nobel mercenary, and it wasn¡¯t even a close contest. In the brief exchange, the man tried to pull back and bring his machine pistol up, but the woman just flickered forward like a dancer that could warp space and slapped the gun out of his hand. The Nobel might have been waiting for this, judging by the two other guns scattered across the courtyard that had already had this treatment, and as the woman curled her fingers into a claw that scythed through ghostly flesh without touching it, the Nobel¡¯s arm began to glow a bright cherry red. He lunged. She feinted. And then, the instant before the arm detonated, the woman had a blade in her hand. All of a sudden, a wash of warm kindness came over James, and it seemed to stagger everyone else around the courtyard too. Then the woman cut the Nobel¡¯s arm off, right where the explosive potion-induced tumor was forming. Yanked dripping red flesh and corroding bone away, and flung the limb over her shoulder. One of the militia caught it. And died screaming a second later when it blew up and immolated him, catching one of his buddies in the side. One of the militia broke instantly, throwing his gun down and running back the way they came. Their leader, the big guy, was yelling some kind of command and firing back wildly, while the other one actually bothered to aim his overly decked out rifle and started putting bullets into the old woman. Every shot that should have hit her, instead, one of the tiny knife charms woven into her hair shattered. ¡°Stop that!¡± She admonished, a rush of kindness and compassion coming with her words, and the shooters froze. Then she turned back, blade missing, and punched the Nobel that was still clutching the stump of his arm in the head hard enough to crumple him sideways. James spotted Euphrates, their errant Alchemist, crawling toward the door to the insurance office, and he made a choice, keeping low and moving to one of the nearby brick pillars in pursuit. A gunshot deflected off his shield as he moved. Then another one *didn¡¯t*, buzzed past his ear like a mosquito, and James nearly shit himself as the brick next to his head shattered in a puff of dust and rock splinters. ¡°*Duck*¡± came a screamed frantic word in his head, the impression of a spike of an arrow pointed downward coming to him. James listened, getting low and feeling his hair rustle as another bullet parted it before he was around his cover. He considered adjusting his defense, but he was down to sixteen charges, and the police were still the ones laying down the most fire. He pressed his back against the pillar, trying to steady his breathing. The jingle of a bell, by sheer bad karma not covered by a gunshot, announced Euphrates¡¯ attempted escape. ¡°No running away now!¡± The smiling woman said kindly, moving up toward the door. ¡°Face death with some dignity, Euphrates.¡± James tensed, the thought that maybe this challenge wasn¡¯t that smart, as he prepared to step out. ¡°Y-you can¡¯t kill him!¡± A young man¡¯s voice challenged the woman. James tilted his head a fraction of an inch, and there, between the woman and Euphrates, was one of the students. He was bleeding from a gash on his head, wobbling, and entirely unprepared. But he was standing over the Alchemist with his sword in a white knuckled grip. ¡°W-we need¡­ he has to answer to us.¡± The kid challenged. The woman raised an eyebrow. Glanced down at the sword. Then she reached out almost fondly, grabbed it by the blade, and plucked it out of the kid¡¯s grip. ¡°Not bad.¡± She admitted with a nod, looking at the blade. ¡°Made it yourself? Not bad at all, kiddo. You¡¯ll go far, if you smarten up.¡± Then she balled her wrinkled, bony hand into a fist, the sword collapsing like light into a black hole. When she opened it again, she was holding another of those little charms woven into her hair. She let go, and it drifted up to tether itself to her scalp, joining the others. ¡°Now out of the way.¡± She raised a hand. James moved, interposing himself between her and the kid. His shield, set to ¡®backhand¡¯ for a brief moment, flared as her arm deflected. ¡°Move, kid!¡± He yelled. ¡°Oh, sonny, you are getting in the way of-¡° The woman cut off as another of her charms broke, a bullet vaporizing near her head. James triggered his shield back to .38 as the police redirected their fire their way. Gunshots intensified as the militia realized they weren¡¯t immune to the shooting, and their still standing members started retaliating against the cops. James saw one of them chug something from a thin glass flask, then roll through a wall like it wasn¡¯t there; a purchase from the Alchemists for sure. ¡°Alright, getting kind of-¡° James didn¡¯t get to finish his sentence as the woman took advantage of his altered shield frequency to leg sweep him. He reacted quickly, blocking her follow up strike with the arm holding his gun, but then she had a knife in her hand that radiated something James didn¡¯t recognize. His eyes went wide as she stabbed down, and he got an arm up just in time to stop her from carving out an internal organ. It still nicked him though, and suddenly, the ground didn¡¯t feel quite right. Actually, suddenly *down* didn¡¯t feel quite right. The woman snatched the gun from his hand, and James yelled something rude as his subjective ¡®down¡¯ changed to ¡®that way¡¯, and he plummeted away. Past the tree and the dying Nobel, past where he and Sarah had been having lunch, and straight into the plate glass window of the Ham House. His back hit the window, and shockingly, it held. Though a spiderweb of cracks radiated out from around him, and he could hear glass creaking ominously as the gravity effect didn¡¯t wear off, continuing to pull him into it. All breath left him in a rush, and James fought with all his willpower to get his lungs to start working again. He raised an arm up, scrambled around for purchase, and didn¡¯t find it before there was a deeper squealing, squeaking crack of grinding glass and the window gave out under him. James fell through the shattering window. Shards of razor sharp plate glass tugging at his coat, one of them slicing through the thinner material of his pants and gashing his calf. And one, with a truly unpleasant feeling, catching against the cords on the back of his neck, pressing into his skulljack link and severing multiple important parts. But, at least, not slicing his neck open in the process. And the glass fell *down*, while James fell ¡®down¡¯, so he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about landing on it. Not that he was thinking anything more complicated than ¡®oh fuck¡¯ during this process. He hit the back wall of the Ham House like he¡¯d been thrown off the second floor of a building, breath leaving him again as he landed hard. His left arm crunched as his muscle was smashed against a wall decoration of a particularly unhappy pig. Then the gravity effect wore off, and he toppled to the floor, landing on his feet but falling to his knees with a cough as he sucked in breath after breath. James looked up to see a handful of patrons and staff cowering behind the front counter, hands over their heads, a couple of them praying. There were at least a few bodies in the lobby, either moaning or unmoving, victims not of crossfire but the police targeting anyone who moved. ¡°Hell of a day, huh?¡± James gasped out. They stared at him. One of the employees brandished a knife in trembling hands. ¡°Right.¡± He staggered to his feet. Brushed himself off, took a deep breath. And then, noticed the militia member crouched by the front window. Staring at him. With a sigh, James met his eyes, and started striding over. The idiot raised his rifle, and James snagged the toe of his boot on the strap of a backpack strewn on the floor, whipping it up in a shower of glass shards, knocking the gun up into the air as a single shot rang out and threatened to deafen him all over again. Lunging forward, James wrapped the backpack¡¯s strap around the man¡¯s arm, threw his body weight sideways, rolled the man to the floor with his knee on the man¡¯s back and the backpack tangling his arm. ¡°Let go of your gun.¡± James ordered. ¡±Uh¡­¡± The dude gasped out. He was maybe only a little older than James. Mid thirties at most. How he¡¯d gotten mixed up in this, James didn¡¯t know, and right now he didn¡¯t give a shit. He¡¯d just fallen sideways and walked it off, this camo-pattern moron was in no position to argue with him. And, as James continued to stare down at his prone form, the man relented, awkwardly letting his grip slip off his rifle. James took it, checked the safety, and nodded, shifting off of his temporary prey. ¡°Get to cover. Stay hidden. *Quit your fucking paramilitary bullshit*. You will not get a second chance.¡± He glared, and the man scrambled to get back behind the counter with the others. That dealt with, James checked outside again. The police had occupied the central part of the courtyard, cutting him off from where Euphrates had run and been followed by the woman. James hoped he wasn¡¯t too late, but he needed a path across. James winced as one of the cops took a shot at one of the students, the girl flickering in a motion she shouldn¡¯t have reasonably been able to make and catching the bullet on her buckler. James was too far to intervene, but he did crack off a pair of shots at the cop¡¯s legs to try to buy the girl time to get her friend around the corner and out of the line of fire. He ducked and didn¡¯t take any more shots, not wanting to draw fire into the building he was in that still had civilians in it. But he still needed some kind of distraction, or else another route through. His path across came in the form of, alarmingly, *more Alchemists*. He didn¡¯t see if any of their actual members had shown up to join the party, but there were two or three new Nobels who had arrived and, moving in precise and efficient flanking patterns, showed that *they* had no problem killing the police who were still jerking around like they were puppets on strings. James didn¡¯t have time to care. He decided to take a chance on the new knowledge that the barrier only kept things from leaving, grabbed his telepad, found a discarded pen on the ground from someone¡¯s lunch bill, and wrote the name of the insurance office on it. He steadied his new rifle, and tore the page. Blinked into place crouched behind a potted plant thirty feet away. Directly next to a bleeding man with short salt and pepper hair and a face that looked like it was made to have rugged stubble on it, clutching his injured side with one hand and a pistol with the other. ¡°Hey.¡± James muttered. ¡°Please don¡¯t shoot me.¡± The man, the CIA agent James had seen get shot earlier, tensed up but didn¡¯t turn. ¡°Dammit.¡± He muttered, moving to lower his gun. ¡°You¡¯re gonna want to keep that.¡± James told him, sneaking a look around the room. The body of an insurance agent lay slumped against the far wall just under a wide round clock that had a bullet hole in it, still ticking away. Papers and pens were scattered across the front room. ¡°Where¡¯s Euphrates?¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°The old woman? She jumped up to the roof. Because today has been so normal.¡± The agent sounded almost belligerent. No, not ¡®almost¡¯. He sounded actually angry at how this was going. ¡°No, the Alchemist. The man who came in here.¡± James clarified, scanning the ceiling above them just in case. Still keeping his voice low. The agent actually did turn to stare at him, keeping his composure pretty well when he saw a rather beat up James, a man younger than him, carrying a stolen assault rifle. ¡°Alchemist, huh? He ran through a wall and out the back.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± James sighed. ¡°Sorry your partner shot you.¡± He added. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta get back to work.¡± ¡°It happens.¡± The CIA agent said, like that was normal. ¡°Good-¡° Whatever he¡¯d been about to wish James, who was so far the only person that hadn¡¯t taken a shot at him today, it was interrupted by a crash. From the upstairs office space of what looked like a tax office over next to where the militia had set up their final stand with whatever reinforcements they¡¯d had brave enough to push through the grey and into why James was mentally calling the Doom Dome, a human figure smashed out of the window and rapidly plummeted to slam into the ground. Then the figure split, resolving into an image of two people, one rolling off the other who was either unconscious or down for the count. A woman in a tattered suit and broken shades staggering to her feet and taking in the line of guns facing her. ¡°Your partner seems to be doing well.¡± James said reassuringly to the CIA agent. ¡°And¡­ uh¡­¡± He peeked up as far as he dared, getting a better look at who was on the bricks. ¡°And her twin? I don¡¯t suppose she has a twin sister, huh?¡± ¡°If she does, I wouldn¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Cryptic.¡± James nodded. ¡°Keep your head down.¡± He ordered. The gruff man just looked back at him with an expression that did little to reassure. James rolled his eyes, but didn¡¯t say anything else, and instead rose to a crouch walk and started moving, pressing into the back of the building, rifle up and ready. He hated this rifle. It had two different sights on it and he was pretty sure neither one was calibrated right. James already missed his sidearm. That pistol had been a gift from his partners, and he was kinda pissed about losing it. James swept through the tiny back office, which was mostly just a couple desks facing each other, a small break room with coffee cheap enough to be hostile even by Officium Mundi standards, and a door out the back. It was empty as far as he could tell, but one of the desks had been swept clean, papers and paper clips strewn around in the wake of someone passing or diving over it. He checked under the desk. The kid from outside was curled up behind an awkwardly tugged in office chair, tears rolling down a bruised face, one arm held tightly against his chest ¡°You good?¡± James asked, and the kid jerked like he was startled, staring at James with panicked eyes. ¡°I mean, not bleeding anywhere, right?¡± The kid nodded. ¡°Good. Stay here. The Alchemist?¡± The young man opened his mouth like he was gasping for breath, trying a few times before saying, ¡°He can¡¯t get past the edge.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know, none of us can.¡± James complained. ¡°He ran through here, where did he *go*?¡± ¡°That way.¡± The kid pointed through the break room. ¡°Out the wall.¡± James drew on his enhanced memory and a saved memory of the layout of this place. Through that wall would put him in an optometrists, and past that, parking lot. He couldn¡¯t get through the parking lot too far, so he¡¯d have to go either back out into the courtyard, or up into the second floor. He nodded, rose back up, and moved to the back door, frowning as a distant noise started to intensify. It intensified more when he opened the door, the rapid *whap* of helicopter blades coming in louder and louder as the aircraft descended as low as it dared into the area around the clocktower. James absolutely didn¡¯t have time for that one. The grey barrier was still up, he needed to reconnect with Sarah, get their telepads working, and leave. This was so far beyond their ability to navigate it was insane. He darted across the back of the building, confident that the barrier kept him from being jumped by anyone, and ducked his head out into main path to the courtyard. The helicopter - definitely a civilian model, this wasn¡¯t some military attack chopper - carefully landed on the most open rooftop, allowing a number of people to jump out. It couldn¡¯t leave, but it kept the engine running, and James tried to stay back and watch, while also scanning the surroundings for his companions. Alanna had just vanished, making use of the Status Quo earrings she and Karen wore to get somewhere out of the way and hunker down. James was almost positive she wanted to get into the fray, but he trusted her to keep Karen safe. Sarah, though, was nowhere to be seen. The gunfire had slowed while he¡¯d been busy being thrown through a window. It looked like the police, still moving with jerky, robotic movements, had more or less secured the area. It also looked like many people who had survived the fight - bystander or otherwise - had been dragged to the central courtyard, and were being held at gunpoint. The old woman was nowhere to be seen, neither was Euphrates. But there *were* two other Nobel¡¯s there, with a man James assumed was an Alchemist. He tried to focus to get his glasses to tell him, and only then realized his glasses were long gone. Probably from when he got refenestrated. James shot a nod to the Alchemist who was on the other side of the path as him. ¡°Truce.¡± He muttered. The old man glowered at him, and James recognized him as the one he¡¯d cryptically antagonized in a diner about a month back. ¡°Oh, yes, *truce*. I¡¯m sure that won¡¯t ruin me.¡± The Alchemist looked annoyed. James couldn¡¯t say why. He just shot him a smile and turned back to the courtyard. The Alchemist¡¯s guards had taken up flanking positions ahead of them, under cover from the surrounding buildings, but it looked like that was more of a tense standoff rather than an active gunfight. A standoff that didn¡¯t look like it was going to improve with the introduction of Team Rooftop. James tried to send another skulljack message to anyone nearby to let them know to stay outside the barrier, but then remembered his link was currently just an awkward dangling hunk of cut cable. He unclipped it and jammed it into his pocket. Felt a little better. Couldn¡¯t think of what to do though. So James just hunkered down to watch and wait for an opportunity to do something. A half a minute of waiting later, there was a *flood* of compassion, washing over the whole area as if exhaled from a kind star. It was strange to feel an emotion from a direction, but James was pretty sure he knew what it meant. ¡°So long Euphrates.¡± He muttered, shaking his head. He didn¡¯t have long to mourn their contact though. Someone poked their head over the roof, and the police still in the courtyard almost instantly reacted, turning in a wave and unloading a wall of gunfire. James flinched back behind his wall until the bullets stopped flying, but whoever had exposed themselves didn¡¯t sound like they¡¯d been inconvenienced by the assault. ¡°We¡¯re not here for you! Let our operative leave unharmed, and we¡¯re cool!¡± Came a musical bellow from the roof, rising easily over the helicopter engine. Actually, James realized, it hadn¡¯t felt like he¡¯d heard anything at all. More that the shouted words had planted themselves neatly in his memory. Well. He didn¡¯t like that at all. What he liked less was the police, in unison, yelled out in a myriad voice, ¡°Oh, but *I* am here for *you*, Harlan!¡± The human officers had tears running from their eyes as their vocal cords were pushed well beyond what was healthy. ¡°Surrender, or we begin executing hostages.¡± And then one of the officers dragged Sarah forward from behind the low wall they¡¯d lined everyone up on, and James felt his heart stop. ¡°You can¡¯t expect me to believe you, Law!¡± The voice from the roof echoed in his head again. ¡°On either count!¡± But whatever they believed, it didn¡¯t quite matter as one of the cops raised a gun to Sarah¡¯s head with a stiff motion. James felt the part of him that urged caution, and urged restraint, shut down. ¡°Enough of this shit.¡± He said out loud, stepping around the corner and slinging the rifle over his shoulder. The puppet cops didn¡¯t even notice him, but he saw the Alchemist give him a cocked eyebrow. As if asking, ¡®what are you gonna do about it?¡¯ What James was gonna do about it was everything he could. And, right now, conditions were pretty good for what he could do. Manipulate Asphalt. Once, twice, three times, as many charges of the blue activation as he needed to get what he wanted. His nose started to bleed. Then, Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel. Mercifully, draining Velocity to fuel the spell didn¡¯t actually slow him down, but the tug in his chest threatened to distract him. He pulled on Aim, for the extra precision he needed. And he asked the navigator in his head for the right steps to take to not get shot while he was doing this. From behind James, the parking lot bubbled, and then erupted. Finger-width tendrils exploded forward, forming arches as they pulled more and more material, keeping themselves solid and stable as they raced toward their targets at a hundred miles an hour. Only two people got shots off before James¡¯ arcane working was among them. The tendrils lashing out at high speed, burrowing into the barrels of guns and around their trigger. And then, James breathed out, wrapped a hand around the central trunk of asphalt that had rushed by next to him, and triggered the Perfect Strike on his earring. Two charges of that left, with an annoying high reload time, but if this worked he wouldn¡¯t need any more. The asphalt inside the officer¡¯s weapons blossomed into starbursts, punching out through the metal, ruining firing mechanisms, and rendering guns into modern art. James wasn¡¯t perfectly accurate. No matter how enhanced he was, or how blocky the motions of the attackers, he was working with tiny targets held by moving people. A couple of his strikes hit nothing. And three of them hit flesh; punching into hands or arms, drawing blood by no screams. Even when he detonated them and turned limbs into shredded meat, the victims didn¡¯t react. James probably could have stopped those from making the strike. But he wasn¡¯t in any mood for it right now. Deprived of weapons, the police seemed like they hesitated. But only for a brief moment. As a collective, their hands - even if they were missing one now - went for batons and tasers. And seeing James, seeing the person who stood in the middle of the attack that had just taken away their advantage, they silently charged him. The Nobels actually moved to cover him, but James held out a hand, pointing a shaking finger at them. ¡°No killing!¡± He ordered. The two goons glanced back at the Alchemist, who was now staring at James with open terror. ¡°Do as he says!¡± The man snapped hurriedly, and the Nobels holstered their weapons without even a shrug, moving to employ their ethereal bodies and enhanced physical strength to begin pummeling the shit out of the approaching group of people that James was now absolutely certain were mind controlled. James just waited, hoping that no one would get to him or notice that his heart wasn¡¯t quite beating properly, or that his nosebleed was dripping profusely. He felt lightheaded, and he knew he¡¯d overdone it on the blue orb power. He was pretty good at this stuff, but he¡¯d never gotten the hang of blues like Dave or Sarah had. It was a special kind of creepy, watching the Nobels and the police engage in a near silent fight. The only sounds the crackling of tasers, the taps of shoes on brick, and the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground. James tried to steady his breathing, and slipped around the battle, triggering the invisibility from his earring as he passed behind a pillar, and then focusing on hurrying to the hostages. He arrived just as two people from the roof did too, sliding down and using an awning to break their fall before dropping the last five or ten feet to the ground. On the other side of the courtyard, another figure slammed into the ground, not bothering to slow anything, the old woman sauntering over like she was going to brunch and not a battlefield. The two soldiers had short, dangerous looking bullpup rifles up and trained on the woman as they spread out, while the woman just stood there looking around and shaking her head, that pleasant smile still fixed on her bony face. James kept his own gun ready, but not pointed at anyone. Yet. Instead, he lurked and hoped his invisibility would give him at least a little privileged information. ¡°The Alchemist is dead, and I have places to be.¡± The woman said. ¡°If ya¡¯ll don¡¯t mind, drop your fate weaving so I can get out of here.¡± The two soldiers paused, glancing at each other and shuffling farther away, but not lowering their weapons. From the hostages though, sound started to rise up. People who were in shock sobbing or starting to ask questions, demanding answers. People who were injured quietly moaning or screaming. And one figure, pulling herself to her feet, glaring up at the old lady. The student, barely a teenager, unarmed but still with a cracked buckler dangling from her arm, looked at the battle hardened lady with a fury that James could easily remember feeling when he was that age. ¡°You can¡¯t do that.¡± She hissed out. ¡°We needed him to-¡° ¡°Kiddo, don¡¯t tell me what I can¡¯t do. You don¡¯t know the half of it.¡± A pulse of kindness radiated from the woman, and she winced slightly. James doubted anyone else saw it. ¡°Drop the fate crap.¡± Another burst of the emotion. James decided to take a risk, operating on some strange instinct he wasn¡¯t quite sure about. He dropped the invisibility, and stood up from where he¡¯d been checking on Sarah. ¡°We can help you with those answers.¡± He said to the kid. ¡°But you should let her go. All of us, really.¡± He added, before turning to the woman. ¡°Excuse me.¡± James said giving a polite incline of his head. ¡°May I have my weapon back? It¡¯s special to me.¡± He thought for a second, then held up the rifle. ¡°I¡¯ll trade you.¡± And all that kindness, all that compassion, suddenly compressed in an almost physical pressure around them. Like the world was warping and starting to crack as James offered little more than a polite request and a friendly smile. The woman looked at him, an expression of *deeply* bitter annoyance on her face. ¡°Oh, you cheeky¡­¡± She trailed off, before shaking her head and laughing. ¡°Sure thing, kiddo.¡± The rough old voice sounded only a little angry as she flicked one of the charms out of her braided grey hair, crushed it in her palm, and flipped her hand around to reveal James¡¯ gun held out to him. But the cracks in the air pulled back as he she did. He took it, offered his stolen assault rifle, and got a snort of derision from the woman who just threw it over her shoulder into the bushes. ¡°Now let me go.¡± James looked over at the girl, and made a placating gesture as he holstered his pistol. ¡°We know some stuff.¡± He said. ¡°We can at least try to help. Without you getting shot at.¡± She wavered, and then, like the weight of the whole day suddenly caught up to her, sagged and dropped back to her knees, shaking the boy next to her and muttering something in his ear. A few seconds later, the grey around them dropped. The woman grinned, and nodded. ¡°You kids be good now.¡± She said, before kicking herself upward and vanishing into the sky. Noises rushed back in. Car alarms, sirens, shouts and yells. James stood and faced the two black clad soldiers, their body armor alarmingly familiar, tattoos on their faces a riot of color even under the bland light of mid afternoon Utah on a crappy day. ¡°Wolfpack?¡± He asked, and they tightened their grips on their weapons, focused on him with critical attention. ¡°Your girl¡¯s over there. She fell out of a building.¡± He gestured to where the duplicate of the CIA agent was slumped against a wall. The two soldiers exchanged glances, and James saw through his enhanced eye that the tattoos around their ears *moved* slightly. Then one of them nodded at him, and they stepped aside, moving to grab their fallen companion. At which point Alanna made herself visible, lowering her own gun and running over to join James. ¡°Yo!¡± She called. ¡°Karen¡¯s out, team two had some nonsense. What¡¯s going on, you weren¡¯t answering?¡± ¡°Oh, lost my link.¡± James said, mouth suddenly dry, a bitter taste on his tongue. He wobbled as his adrenaline stopped flowing and quiet returned. ¡°We should get out of here, before¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Yup!¡± Alanna nodded, pulling out her telepad. ¡°Grab Sarah, I¡¯ll¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Is anyone else left around?¡± ¡°Yeah, but Nate¡¯s getting us out. Why?¡± ¡°Get a medic in that building, patch up the guy in the suit.¡± James pointed as he sat down. ¡°There¡¯s a kid under a desk in the back. He¡¯s coming with us. Get these two also.¡± He motioned to the kid. ¡°And then we need to¡­ uh¡­¡± He looked up as a person in armor, stubby shotgun slung to their side, bandolier of a rainbow of different shells across their chest, stepped up to him. ¡°Hi?¡± He greeted them as Alanna tensed up like she was ready to fight this person if needed. ¡°Paladin.¡± The musical voice echoed in his head, and James realized the person¡¯s mouth didn¡¯t move. ¡°Hell of a day, huh?¡± ¡°That¡¯s my line. And, uh¡­ I don¡¯t have a title for you, but hi?¡± His voice felt thick in his mouth. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna try to shoot me, are you? Wait, more important, your title isn¡¯t ¡®alpha¡¯, is it?¡± ¡°More important?¡± Alanna said, shifting her stance to be ready to tackle the newcomer. ¡°I don¡¯t try, and wolves don¡¯t work that way.¡± The person replied, shaking their bald, heavily tattooed head. ¡°Thanks for the assist. We owe you one. No more dead kids, right?¡± They offered a gloved hand for James to shake, saying the last words like an incantation. James looked up into warm brown eyes, the person offering not exactly a smile, but a reassuring presence. ¡°No more dead kids.¡± He repeated. ¡°You are¡­ not what I was expecting.¡± He said, taking the offered hand and getting a single firm shake from it. ¡°Get used to hearing that.¡± They said, voice coming in clear even as their helicopter started beating the air again so loud it drowned out all other noises. The other soldiers already helping their downed operative up a rope that was being hauled up into the sky. ¡°Get your people out of here. We can meet up some other time!¡± James and Alanna shared a glance as the figure grabbed another dropped rope from the helicopter. ¡°Who are you?!¡± Alanna yelled. ¡°I could ask you the same thing!¡± The person yelled back in their heads, before their flight took them up and away from the courtyard. As soon as the helicopter was far enough away that they could hear again, Alanna flipped it off. ¡°That was fucking infuriating.¡± She said. Then she tapped her ear. ¡°Dave says Pen can take ¡®em out if we want?¡± ¡°Nah.¡± James said. ¡°I like ¡®em.¡± ¡°Of course you fucking do.¡± Alanna grumbled. ¡°I do too. Dave¡¯s breaking off.¡± She reported. ¡°EMTs are here. More police arriving shortly. Nik¡¯s got everyone you mentioned stable. Time to go, okay?¡± ¡°¡®M awake¡­¡± Sarah muttered, pushing herself up from where James was standing over her. ¡°I can¡­ ow.¡± Feeling like an idiot, James remembered something and knelt to tap Sarah¡¯s neck, dumping an hour of sleep into her. He felt a little tired, but for her, with the multiplicative power of her Health, she brightened up right away. ¡°Oh no! I have to...¡± She jolted upright, then looked around at the courtyard that was still crowded, but no longer filled with an active war. ¡°James?¡± ¡°We¡¯re good.¡± He said. ¡°Get the kids, get home. I¡¯ll meet you there.¡± James glanced back, looking for the Alchemist, but finding nothing except a collection of unconscious officers. He looked around the courtyard, feeling like he was forgetting something important, but unable to place it, or determine if he maybe just had some lingering dizziness from where he fell thirty feet and hit his head. ¡°What am I missing¡­¡± He said. ¡°Nothing worth getting arrested over.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°We could steal all the guns laying around?¡± ¡°Sure, grab a couple.¡± James said, buying time to think. But by the time Alanna had collected an armful of rifles and two flashbangs, he couldn¡¯t make his brain latch onto what he was thinking. So the two of them teleported out, the last two Order members out of the area. It was only when he tried to take a step off the arrival platform and stumbled into a heap that James remembered that he¡¯d been sliced open when he fell through that window, and maybe what he¡¯d forgotten was blood loss. Adrenaline had taken him pretty far, but now he relied on Alanna to get him the rest of the way to the infirmary. They were down one Alchemist contact, and possibly had spoiled that entire diplomatic avenue. They were also up between one and five new enemies. And yet¡­ James felt pretty good, blood loss notwithstanding. Like they¡¯d tipped the scales a little bit away from total catastrophe. He¡¯d get a full debriefing when he woke up, get some answers when he was less out of it. But in the meantime, he took the painkiller Deb gave him, dumped another few hours of sleep into Sarah, and was out like a light before she even started sewing up his injury. He slept so soundly, his brain never did think to ask what happened to the glasses he lost in the fight. Chapter 188 ¡°Good morning Hank it¡¯s Tuesday¡± -John Green, Vlogbrothers- _____ ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go over the whole thing again.¡± The words were punctuated by a rough slap of paper as the old fashioned notebook Nate liked to use was flipped back a dozen pages and tossed onto the bedside table. James groaned. ¡°We have done this three times.¡± He protested. ¡°Do you not have, like, anything else to do today?¡± James peered at Nate through narrowed eyes. ¡°Wait, actually, I just realized, you¡¯re basically always working. Nate do you not have a social life?¡± ¡°Social lives don¡¯t pay well.¡± The irrationally hard working man grunted. ¡°We don¡¯t pay you hourly!¡± James protested. ¡°And I know you have what you need already. Why are we doing this again?¡± Nate glanced away, and for once, didn¡¯t have anything to say right away. The small show of hesitation actually caught James off guard; he was more or less used to the man being constantly composed, on top of things. Nate was¡­ well, to James, he read as an *Adult*, in a way that a lot of his personal friends didn¡¯t. Sure, James was doing his best to be a mature and complete person, but he wasn¡¯t ¡°an adult¡±. But now, in a moment of sonder, he saw one of the cracks in the illusion of adulthood around Nate. Maybe adulthood wasn¡¯t what he¡¯d assumed it was. ¡°You know this whole cascade of madness wasn¡¯t your fault, right?¡± James said, hoping he¡¯d hit the mark. Nate grunted at him again. ¡°Bullshit.¡± He challenged. ¡°And you know it.¡± ¡°I made the call, in the end.¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°I was the one on the ground.¡± ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have been.¡± Nate said flatly. ¡°Shoulda been mine, and I shoulda made it. It *was* mine. I pushed it off onto you so you¡¯d say go, because I thought it was worth the risk.¡± James nodded from the infirmary bed he was laying in, his leg propped up on a folded pillow. ¡°Figured.¡± He said. ¡°But Nate, it *was* worth the risk. And yeah, fuck you for putting me on the spot there when that wasn¡¯t my job. But it would have been *so much worse* if we weren¡¯t there.¡± Folding tattooed arms over his chest, Nate glared down at James. ¡°We took injuries, expended resources, and failed our primary objective.¡± ¡°Yeah, but we also saved some lives, and *this time*, we can *not* get the trio of plucky teenagers killed! Imagine, learning from our mistakes.¡± James closed his eyes and reclined into his pillow. ¡°Plus, we have better intel on, like, three different things now.¡± He cracked one eye and looked up at Nate, who was still trying to glare him into submission on something or other. ¡°It worked out fine. Nate, injuries aren¡¯t even permanent for us, once we get the Shaper Substance working right. We lost nothing. Also, *also*, we totally swiped a bunch of guns from that militia! Everybody wins!¡± ¡°Well, not the militia.¡± A knock on the door and a voice from outside the room called his attention. James grinned as Alanna let herself in. She¡¯d changed out of her field outfit at the first opportunity after coming back, and his partner looked somehow casual and deadly all at once in just black sweatpants and a tank top. ¡°But fuck em! Hey Nate.¡± Alanna greated their intelligence director. ¡°Agreed. Mostly.¡± Nate conceded. ¡°Alright. We can go over this all later.¡± James rolled his eyes at him. ¡°We *will* go over this later, as a group. Until then, stick around the Lair. Harvey¡¯s gonna want to talk to you later.¡± ¡°Whu oh.¡± James raised his eyebrows. ¡°What did I do this time?¡± The stare Nate gave him was perfectly incredulous. He didn¡¯t even say anything as he turned and left, shaking his head. ¡°Well that was ominous.¡± Alanna said, leaning on the bed and getting a yelp from James when she pressed into his leg. ¡°Shit, sorry!¡± She exclaimed, shifting around. ¡°How¡¯re you doing?¡± ¡°You are, no joke, the fourth person to ask me that, and I¡¯ve only been conscious for an hour at most.¡± He said. When Alanna gave him a wry grin, James ticked off names on his fingers. ¡°Deb, obviously. Knife-In-Fangs, who I think might have thought I was someone else, but I appreciated the thought, and Sarah, who just left. And now you!¡± Alanna snorted a laugh. ¡°Wait, not Nate?¡± ¡°Nate does not engage in pleasantries.¡± James said sternly, before cracking a smile. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m good. Between Deb putting me back together, Nik filling me with blood, and, like, a half dozen purples, I¡¯m good to go.¡± He said confidently. Which was exactly the wrong thing to say, as Alanna looked at him with a frown, and jabbed a finger at his elevated leg. ¡°Ow! What?! No!¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought.¡± His partner grumped at him. She stopped assaulting him, though, and shot a guilty look over, meeting his eyes briefly. ¡°I was worried about you.¡± James¡¯ smile softened as he looked up at her. The words were simple, but it always felt warm to hear that someone cared. So he tried not to be dismissive of what she¡¯d said. ¡°Thanks.¡± He said, explicitly avoiding saying anything about being fine. ¡°So, how¡¯d you and Karen handle it?¡± ¡°Oh, Nate didn¡¯t tell you? He fuckin¡¯ spent long enough asking me.¡± Alanna complained. ¡°He¡¯s dedicated, I¡¯ll give him that.¡± James said. ¡°Anyway. I got her into the upstairs office over that birdfeeder place, on the other side of the strip mall.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°Triggered invisibility, hunkered down, watched the door. Stressed out about how many of those bullets were hitting you and Sarah.¡± ¡°Shockingly few.¡± James admitted. ¡°Shields did a lot of work. I can¡¯t wait until we have enough of those operational for me to just make a shirt out of them and be protected from twenty things.¡± ¡°Heh. Man, remember how in D&D, buffs from items don¡¯t stack? Like, you can¡¯t wear fifteen strength belts?¡± Alanna let the stray thought out with a casual ease as she relaxed on the bed. James shook his head. ¡°Fuck that. I¡¯ll make a belt-suit if I can get away with it. And, *and*, good news! We can get away with it in real life!¡± ¡°...There¡¯s a kind of twisted joy that comes from being able to actually say ¡°that isn¡¯t how it works in real life¡± when we¡¯re talking about magic items.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°Anyway. Once it was clear where the action was, Karen sent me back to check on if you needed help. And so I got to see you splatter all the cops, and then talk down the old lady.¡± ¡°God, grandma was a fucking trip.¡± James groaned. ¡°What even¡­ just *how*, you know?¡± ¡°More importantly, what¡¯d you say to her anyway?¡± Alanna asked. James shrugged. ¡°I asked for my gun back. Politely.¡± ¡°And¡­?¡± ¡°And that¡¯s it.¡± He said. ¡°There was¡­ something off about her powers. Not like how the Big Names are or anything. But every time she was doing something physically superhuman, she was bleeding this weird feeling into the area.¡± ¡°Yeah, it felt really nice.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°Which is weird, but also cool. I wish I made people feel good when I went jogging or something.¡± ¡°Oh, you do.¡± James easily said, and then moved on rapidly. ¡°So, I just took a gamble, I guess. I figured, I¡¯d play into the feeling, and see if it was a restriction or a hard limit or something. And if she said no¡­ I mean, she already defenestrated me once. What¡¯s the worst that could happen? Aside from further damage to local plate glass windows.¡± ¡°Literally that.¡± Alanna told him, trying to ruffle his hair and just getting her hand tangled in the mess of long black material. ¡°You get thrown through another window. But worse.¡± James laughed. ¡°Well, it worked.¡± ¡°It was terrifying.¡± Alanna told him, suddenly quiet. ¡°It¡­ can I ask you something?¡± She said, shifting where she was sitting to press against James. ¡°Of course.¡± He didn¡¯t hesitate. But also didn¡¯t pressure her. She took a minute to actually put the words together. But eventually, met James¡¯ eyes and spoke. ¡°How are we supposed to actually fix anything?¡± Alanna said. James cocked his head to the side. ¡°What do you mean?¡± His voice was confused. ¡°We¡¯re already fixing things.¡± ¡°I mean¡­ anything. Like, anything big.¡± Alanna said. ¡°How are we supposed to change the world? Like we are. Because¡­ James, we just lived through a a fight with at least three different people or groups that have been around longer than us, that are stronger than us, and that are¡­ that are¡­ we¡¯re *not ahead of the curve* here!¡± Her voice rose. ¡°We¡¯re not the frontrunners in this whole dungeon thing! We¡¯re late to the party, and we don¡¯t even own a helicopter! How are we supposed to compete against anyone else that¡¯s been doing it longer, and either doesn¡¯t want things to change, or has already changed things to how they want them?¡± Her voice faltered. She wasn¡¯t panicking, but she was obviously having trouble with this, and looking to James for anything like an answer. He didn¡¯t *have* a good answer. He hadn¡¯t even thought of the question. But all the same, James pressed his fingers together in front of his mouth, and said the first thing that came to mind. ¡°We could probably buy a helicopter.¡± He saw Alanna¡¯s face twist into annoyance, and he smiled at her. ¡°But seriously, that¡¯s my answer! We could! We¡¯re behind? Really? Are we?¡± James threw his arms out to the polished infirmary room around them. ¡°I¡¯m sitting here in a magical hospital that we built in one of our fifty basements, you¡¯re bulletproof, and we can pick up a few centuries of expertise in an afternoon with the right orbs. Alanna, if we¡¯re behind the curve, we¡¯re in a lot of trouble. But we were *already* in a lot of trouble. We¡¯re two hundred people. We can¡¯t kill capitalism like this. We can¡¯t reset the world¡¯s problems. All we can do, all we were ever going to be able to do, is our best. And we¡¯re already doing that.¡± ¡°And what if it¡¯s not enough?¡± Alanna said. ¡°I pushed you and Anesh into this. Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t remember that. I wanted us to be the people who use power to improve the world. And now¡­¡± ¡°Okay, hang the fuck on!¡± James protested. ¡°I actually also wanted to make a better world! This isn¡¯t entirely on you! But also, you know, it doesn¡¯t have to ¡®be enough¡¯. How many Response calls have you taken? Serious ones.¡± He suddenly asked. ¡°Uh¡­ like, a couple hundred?¡± Alanna hadn¡¯t kept track, and a lot of them were still minor things or prank calls that didn¡¯t quite get filtered out. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°For every person you helped. Do you think it was enough?¡± James asked softly. Alanna blinked at him. ¡°I mean¡­ yeah? But that¡¯s just for those people. That¡¯s not fixing the systems that caused half the problems in the first place.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡± James admitted with a nod. ¡°But¡­¡± He trailed off. Because he¡¯d realized something. Alanna wasn¡¯t saying this because she was worried, or panicked. Well, she *was* worried, but that wasn¡¯t where this was coming from. No, there was something else in her words. A core of heat and bitterness that James didn¡¯t hear from her very often these days. She was *pissed*. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be doing more, man.¡± She said, and James heard that anger again. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be building a better world. And it feels like¡­ suddenly we¡¯re surrounded by walls, and all those walls have magic we haven¡¯t seen before.¡± Alanna frowned like a storm. ¡°And none of them are changing anything.¡± Now to that, James had something to say. ¡°We can¡¯t prove that.¡± He told her. ¡°Now, granted, a lot of them are probably making things objectively worse. But¡­ not gonna lie, I had some entirely reasonable and unpleasant biases against a group called a *Wolfpack*, but they seemed¡­ reasonable.¡± ¡°You just like that they called you paladin.¡± Alanna snorted a half-laugh. ¡°I should never have used that title with anyone ever.¡± James nodded in faux agreement. ¡°But okay. What do *you* think we should be doing?¡± At that, Alanna went still. And despite the fact that she was the one with the empathy power and James wasn¡¯t, he was pretty sure he knew what she was feeling right now. The kind of indignity that the world not only wasn¡¯t fair, but seemed stacked against you, personally. ¡°We¡­¡± she started to say, looking at a hand she was repeatedly opening and closing into a fist, ¡°we should just be doing more.¡± She said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how. But we¡¯re sitting on this massive secret, and we should be leveraging it harder. We have a fucking replicator, for Christ¡¯s sake.¡± ¡°We use the replicator to cure cancer.¡± James reminded her. ¡°Yeah, and is that *enough*?¡± Alanna demanded. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ I dunno, I¡¯m just worried. I don¡¯t honestly know how you aren¡¯t. The Alchemists, the Wolfpack, the¡­ magical grandma, I guess? Oh, and the far right militia that was apparently buying potions. So *that¡¯s* a thing. And we just keep doing what we¡¯re doing?¡± ¡°Hey, you want to deal with a far right militia, just say the word.¡± James told her. ¡°Just teleport in, take all their shit, and vanish. I¡¯ll do it!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the¡­ okay, put that one on the back burner¡­ but that¡¯s not the point.¡± Alanna sighed, rolling sideways to press her shoulder up under James¡¯ arm. ¡°Everyone¡¯s stronger than us already. Entrenched. I don¡¯t want another Status Quo fight, I just want to fix this shit.¡± James¡¯ voice was a note of soft hurt. ¡°Alanna, everyone was always stronger than us. Bigger than us. Doesn¡¯t matter if it was the dungeon being a hundred thousand square miles or a federal intelligence agency not wanting us to introduce disruptive technologies. We¡¯re tiny. You want to know why I¡¯m calm? Because it doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not a win-lose thing. We¡¯ve got some stuff we can do, now. And we¡¯ve got some stuff we can do, with some planning. So we do, and we plan. And also, you know, we dungeon.¡± He wrapped his arm around her upper body, his other hand coming across to pet her hair. ¡°Good *lord* do we dungeon. You think it¡¯s bad that some people are stronger than us? Imagine how everyone who has to put up with you being bulletproof feels.¡± ¡°Bullet resistant.¡± Alanna muttered, pushing herself back into his touch. ¡°I¡¯ll update your character sheet.¡± James told her. ¡°But yeah, there¡¯s probably more we could do. What, I don¡¯t know yet. Food security? A better society? Undermine the police? Topple dictatorships? Space elevator? We¡¯ve got so much to do, and¡­ two hundred people. And roughly a quarter of them have only been exposed to the existing human culture for about a year.¡± ¡°The camracondas are¡­ they¡¯re so fucking smart.¡± Alanna latched onto the tangent. ¡°You know how I can feel other people? Well, when they got here, pretty much all of them had two emotions; curiosity and a sort of deep exhaustion. And now, they¡¯re¡­ I mean, they¡¯re basically whole people. Way more earnest than most humans, sure. And *someone* taught them to be funny for some reason¡­¡± She wriggled against James¡¯, thumping his chest with the back of her head. ¡°But they grew *so* fast. Except they never lost the curiosity. They¡¯re kinda great.¡± ¡°They really are.¡± James agreed. Then he sighed. ¡°I worry sometimes, about how people might react to the camracondas, or the ratroaches, or even just the various different infomorphs we make friends with.¡± ¡°Badly.¡± She said, half her own thought, half echoing the anxiety roiling off him. ¡°Yes, thanks, badly.¡± He flicked Alanna¡¯s nose. ¡°It¡¯s just a distant thought. But it¡¯s part of why¡­ why we need to build our own place. Why we can¡¯t just keep living under all the old behemoths you mentioned earlier.¡± ¡°There is no way I used the word behemoth.¡± Alanna protested. But that was her only protest. They lapsed into silence, and just sat like that for a few minutes. Sitting together, comfortably waiting for nothing. Until, eventually, Alanna¡¯s arm fell asleep from the weird side position she was laying in, and she rolled off the hospital bed, lithely springing to her feet. And then raised her eyebrows as James kicked the blanket off his lower half and moved to stand up himself. ¡°What?¡± He asked. ¡°This hurts like hell, but I¡¯ve got stuff to do, and Deb isn¡¯t here to glare at me.¡± ¡°Risky move.¡± Alanna said, helping him stand, holding her arm out like an iron bar for James to balance on until he was sure his leg wasn¡¯t going to collapse underneath him. ¡°What¡¯cha got left to do today?¡± ¡°Just check on everything, I guess.¡± James said. ¡°Talk to people. See where the current takes me.¡± Alanna pulled the infirmary door open for him, revealing the bright hallway outside, a space that could never fit into the area that it occupied in a basement that was only tenuously connected to reality. ¡°I feel like we might need a better organizational structure.¡± She admitted. ¡°Shit, right, I need to talk to Harvey too.¡± James snapped his fingers. ¡°Thanks for reminding me.¡± ¡°How¡­¡± Alanna gave a half frown, before nodding to herself. ¡°Right, Response has an actual command structure.¡± ¡°Yeah. Anyway. I¡¯m gonna go look cool in front of a bunch of high schoolers and¡­ you okay?¡± He stopped, pivoting back to look at Alanna as much as his injured leg would allow. His partner had stopped two doors back, and was taking a moment looking through the observation window of the room. ¡°Hm?¡± Alanna looked up as James turned and limped back over to her. ¡°Oh. Sorry.¡± He didn¡¯t answer, just looking in on one of their newer guests. Not the students they¡¯d brought back from Utah, no. Those three were upstairs somewhere, probably still talking to one of the potion people. Instead, this room was occupied by a life form that had dragged itself out of the Akashic Sewer. The girl - as far as James knew it was a girl, so he was using that until they were conscious enough to actually ask - had black plumage with the sickly texture of an oil slick, with splotches of rust red and decaying orange mixed in. Feathers that didn¡¯t quite cover the whole body, even the parts that weren¡¯t currently under a blanket. The Sewer creation had a strange four legged anatomy, but those legs, James knew, ended in spikes and not feet or paws or anything sensible. On this one, all but one of those spikes had been broken, and while it had only been a week since they¡¯d brought the creature in, they showed no sign of healing. Her eyes were closed, all five of them; two on one side and three on the other, offset and multifaceted. Half crow, half wasp, and currently asleep. Chest rising and falling, IV drip secured to one of their wing arms. No longer their newest guest, and somehow, not even close to the most problematic. ¡°She¡¯ll be okay.¡± James reassured Alanna. ¡°I know.¡± Alanna said, with a firm conviction that wasn¡¯t just optimism or belief in their growing medical team. When James cocked his head at her in question, she added, ¡°Because if she gets worse, I¡¯ll just give her a skulljack, link up, and chug a bottle of Shaper Substance.¡± She clarified. ¡°Ahhhhhh¡­.¡± James quietly screamed trepidation. ¡°Maaaaybe¡­ uh¡­¡± He stopped, realized he was worrying. More than that, he was *fretting*. James stopped himself from saying anything else. His partner was strong, in a lot of ways, and she was also as compassionate as he was. The kind of person who¡¯d do something stupid and painful and risky for a stranger. So it was fortunate that pain tolerance seemed to be one of the ways she was strong in. ¡°Well, let me know if you need to. I can help.¡± He decided to say. Alanna smiled at him. ¡°It¡¯s weird that I can feel when you do that.¡± She said. ¡°Your mind¡¯s a goddamn roller coaster. Anyway, let¡¯s go. You¡¯ve got places to be.¡± ¡°Probably.¡± James acknowledged, as the two of them headed out of the sterile folded infirmary space. He kept up with Alanna pretty well, even with the ache in his leg. _____ James and Alanna grabbed some lunch, met up with an Anesh who was mildly put out that he hadn¡¯t gotten to actually pilot the asphalt mech into the mess to save James¡¯ ass, and had a fairly good time arguing about what form of group hierarchy was an acceptable compromise for half an hour before Alanna excused herself for a Response meeting and Anesh valiantly threw himself between James and a group of Research members who had a question about dungeon orb randomization. Several questions, actually. It was actually more Anesh¡¯s thing anyway, and by the time James snuck away under the guise of doing their dishes, he was deep in conversation anyway. So it wasn¡¯t much of a cost to him. With some free time on his hands, James took it upon himself to do what he was best at. Wander around the Lair and just see what was going on. It was actually very cool, to him, that sometimes the Lair could feel just as wonderous to explore as any dungeon. There was a vibe in the air sometimes, that people were trying new things, learning new things, that magic was happening, that around any corner could be a random encounter that would change his life. Not combat, really, but just¡­ a casual and uplifting conversation, that taught him something new, or gave him a new perspective. He loved this place. And not just because he¡¯d helped build it, although that was certainly a part of it. The front lobby was bustling with activity. Quite a lot of it tense. There had, after all, been a skirmish earlier today, and that was the kind of thing that put members of the Order who¡¯d been here a while on edge. But while there were certainly people on alert, there were also groups of friends or peers. Relaxing, discussing, sharing, or just working on their own. When he came out of the hallway that led back to the dining area, one of the teenagers - Morgan, actually, James felt bad for not recognizing him right away - pointed James out to the camraconda he was talking to. And with an abrupt turn, the camraconda pivoted to face James, and slithered over at a brisk speed, which caused James to pull up short and lean against the wall, supporting his leg a bit for the conversation he was about to engage in. The camraconda came to a stop just in front of James and looked up at him with a sleek grey box of a security camera. This wasn¡¯t one of the survivors that James had seen liberated from their hidden tower, this was one of the *new* ones. The ones that they¡¯d been kidnapping from the dungeon when possible, and integrating into their society. He could tell because of the diamond LEDs that patterned its back, something the older ones simply didn¡¯t have. ¡°What are your favorite words?¡± The camraconda asked abruptly, in a stilted mechanical voice. The new ones were¡­ well, new. They didn¡¯t have the year of experience with the skulljacks and audio equipment that the older ones did. Or, it seemed, with casual conversation. But that was fine, James hated small talk anyway. He thought for a second, and then answered directly. ¡°I¡¯m partial to ¡®resplendent¡¯, ¡®horticulture¡¯, and ¡®conflagration¡¯.¡± James said. The camraconda¡¯s lens widened and narrowed slightly in rapid succession. ¡°Thank you.¡± It said, before turning and slithering away. Nearby, a small group that were talking about green orb effects took notice of the interaction. ¡°What,¡± one of them asked her friends quietly, ¡°was that?¡± ¡°Camracondas pick their own names.¡± One of the veteran Recovery members told her. ¡°The new ones have been asking people about words all week.¡± ¡°Wait, we can pick our own names?!¡± One of them replied. ¡°Well, I mean, the camracondas¡­¡± ¡°I choose Thermoclese!¡± James stifled a surprised burst of laughter and moved on, heading back toward where he actually wanted to check on before Harvey had time to talk to him later. The back area of the Order¡¯s ground floor, where they kept their collected intel and held briefings, where just a couple days ago their whole membership had participated in the discussion on how to deal with the Alchemists. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. They¡¯d have to use it again soon, probably. For now, James just wanted to get a¡­ A crash interrupted his thoughts, and James found himself already jolting into motion. Something solid had just slammed into one of the walls separating the back room, and the pain in his leg vanished in a burst of adrenaline as he threw open the side door and rushed in, checking his corners as he burst in, blood rushing in anticipation of whatever problem had just come up. What he found was a fight in progress. Or, a fight that had just been interrupted. One of the new kids James had promised answers to was standing just off to the side of an upended table, a scattering of notepads, pens, and one unfortunate laptop coating the floor around it. He was holding a sword in an uneasy grip, and glaring over at the wall James had just come through, where someone was slumped down on the ground. The other two kids were in the process of scrambling out of their chairs, but they weren¡¯t the only people here. The teen with the blade wasn¡¯t moving, at *all*, because one of the camracondas in the room had locked him down almost instantly. And one of JP¡¯s rogues had interposed himself between the knocked down person and their attacker before James had even entered the room. Two more Order members were already in the process of rushing over, too. There was some yelling going on. James wasn¡¯t interested in the yelling. ¡°Hey!¡± He cut in, projecting his voice out in a way that was unmistakably ¡®in charge here¡¯. The Order members noticed instantly, and stopped their own shouts instantly, but one of the kids didn¡¯t. ¡°Let him go!¡± The other teenage boy was screaming, his own hand out to the side, in a gesture that felt strangely like it was trying to be threatening. ¡°You can¡¯t-!¡± He cut off as a second camraconda briefly silenced him. The third kid, the girl who had only just pulled herself to her feet, looked around with uncertainty, but ultimately just raised her hands, shrinking in on herself like she¡¯d given up. James strode through the middle of this mess to the person who¡¯d been kicked into the wall, and extended a hand to help them up. It was, he realized as they took his hand with a too-fast motion, one of the potion people. The girl who he¡¯d first met wearing a tattered metal band shirt, and who now was bleeding from the nose. At least her all-black outfit wouldn¡¯t stain, though. ¡°You okay?¡± He asked. And she just nodded twice rapidly as he helped her to her feet. ¡°Alright.¡± James turned back to the others, making eye contact with the teenager who wasn¡¯t currently under camraconda lockdown. ¡°Care to tell me what¡¯s going on? Also, guys, let them go, just don¡¯t let them stab anyone.¡± He motioned at the camracondas. They dropped their locks, and the two boys jerked into motion. One of them staggering back and falling into his chair, the other one trying to finish his sword swing and getting frozen again. James just sighed. ¡°Someone tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°That¡¯s our friend.¡± The girl muttered in a shell shocked voice, pointing limply at the potion person. ¡°But you did something to her.¡± One of the rogues jumped in, an androgynous face with hair long enough for James to be jealous by the name of Max. ¡°We were trying to put together how they got into this.¡± They said. ¡°Getting a picture of their dungeon, infomorph infections, that kind of thing. As part of the Alchemist problem, we asked one of the potions to come up to consult, and¡­ uh¡­ Lincon tried to stab her. And now this is happening.¡± They looked at James with a quiet confidence. ¡°So¡­ postpone this for a bit, huh?¡± James sighed again. ¡°Okay. So, you¡­ uh, what¡¯s your name?¡± He asked the girl. ¡°Also help me with this.¡± He bent down and tried to flip the light table back over, the kids moving stiffly as they helped, but the normal motion seeming to help a little to put them at ease. When it was back, James pulled up a chair and settled in, getting off his leg. ¡°Your name?¡± He asked again. ¡°Emma.¡± The girl said, sounding on the edge of crying. ¡°Alright Emma. Can you¡­ uh¡­¡± James glanced sideways. ¡°Can you get your friend to calm down?¡± ¡°Lincon, stop it.¡± Emma said flatly. ¡°Or I¡¯ll break your arm again.¡± The camraconda holding the kid irised his eye in mild astonishment. ¡°Ah. Threats. Always useful.¡± He said, but tried dropping the lock anyway. This time, though, the teenager didn¡¯t keep trying to stab anyone, and instead stumbled at the sudden motion, dropping his sword which dissolved into motes of grey light. ¡°Hm.¡± The camraconda hissed slightly at the change in behavior as the kid just dropped to his knees. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t learn the wrong lesson from this.¡± James told him, before turning back to the girl. ¡°Emma, we didn¡¯t do anything to your friend.¡± James said. ¡°Though something was done to her, and I¡¯m sorry in advance.¡± He kept his voice calm and level, even though he keenly felt the tragedy of the situation. ¡°We have some questions about how you crossed the Alchemists, but I depressingly suspect that I know the answer now.¡± ¡°The old guys?¡± Emma asked, and James nodded. ¡°We¡­ uh¡­ I mean, we aren¡¯t detectives or anything. We just started looking for them by accident. Brittany, uh, our friend¡­ one of our friends ran away from home. And then vanished. Everyone said she¡¯d been kidnapped, but she¡¯d told me about a place she was gonna check out where you could make money somehow. It sounded¡­ you know.¡± ¡°I know.¡± James grimaced. ¡°But go on.¡± ¡°So we tried sneaking in, and almost got caught. They had guys with guns. Like, real guns. So we¡­ well¡­¡± ¡°We needed to be stronger.¡± The other kid said. He hadn¡¯t sat down, still pacing back and forth behind the table. One of the camracondas nervously watching him. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t ask your name.¡± James addressed him. ¡°Liam.¡± He said suddenly. ¡°I¡¯m Liam. Who are you?¡± ¡°Oh! James. Nice to meet you, barring the circumstances.¡± James said. ¡°So. You wanted to find your friend. And you knew a place where you could get more power. And you kept following the Alchemists?¡± Liam nodded. ¡°I started skipping class. Found where one of them lived. Couldn¡¯t get into his house though.¡± ¡°Yeah, I keep meaning to ask them about that.¡± James shook his head, and dropped the line. ¡°Anyway. The fight today. You were there because you wanted answers, and saw one of them alone?¡± He remembered the Nobel who was present. ¡°Well, mostly alone.¡± James gave a small shrug. ¡°Yeah. We thought¡­ we thought we were ready.¡± Emma said quietly. ¡°And then¡­ everything.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, believe me, we weren¡¯t ready for that either. Especially since someone *threw up a weird fog dome over the whole area*.¡± James crossed his arms at her. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about that later, I think. Anyway.¡± He turned and motioned the potion person to come over, and she obliged with rapid steps before taking a seat. ¡°We¡¯re going to do what we do best, and fucking talk about this.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not Brittany.¡± Liam said with the force of anger only a teenager could feel. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong with her.¡± ¡°You are correct.¡± The potion said. ¡°And I am sorry. I cannot give your friend back.¡± ¡°No¡­¡± Emma whispered. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because I killed her when I was made.¡± The potion said. ¡°I can read her life, but I cannot be her. Not really.¡± The kid with the broken arm looked like he was about to summon another sword and take a second swing, but the rogue that was with them quietly stepped up and laid a hand on his shoulder. James nodded to them thankfully. ¡°They aren¡¯t actually being completely accurate there.¡± He said, seeing the horrified looks on the kid¡¯s faces. ¡°But¡­ well, your friend is gone. I¡¯m sorry. The Alchemists took a lot of people that they thought wouldn¡¯t be missed, and they used them as test subjects. And one of their potions¡­¡± ¡°Replaced them.¡± The potion said. ¡°Made those like me, and turned our hosts into masks. We were made to be weapons.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ Emma, they¡¯re like¡­¡± Liam turned to his friend, a wide eyed look on his face. The girl nodded, and swallowed hard, trying to pack down the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. ¡°Okay.¡± She said, after struggling to bring in a deep breath. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re not her.¡± She said. ¡°I won¡¯t be mad at you.¡± The girl decided suddenly. ¡°You said mask, there.¡± The boy still held down in a seated position by Max half-asked. ¡°Does that mean you knew her?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The potion said in that flat, inhuman tone. ¡°Everything about her.¡± ¡°All her secrets? How she thought?¡± The kid - Lincon, James remembered the name - pushed. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Can you¡­ be her?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, hell no.¡± James started to say. ¡°That is not-¡° But the potion had already flickered over to being someone else. To being the life it had stolen. ¡°Yup.¡± She said, in a completely different voice. ¡°It¡¯s not even that hard. Gotta try not to though, since it¡¯s really fucked up and I don¡¯t want to live in a graveyard.¡± ¡°Brittany.¡± Emma¡¯s voice broke as she looked over at the imitator of her dead friend. ¡°Sort of! Not really though.¡± The mimicking potion person said. ¡°I can tell you what I thought, or what I¡¯d say. I won¡¯t tell you any secrets, though, because¡­ uh¡­. I don¡¯t want to? Obviously. But I can be me for a bit, sure.¡± ¡°You¡­ we could¡­ but¡­¡± Liam stammered out. ¡°But you¡¯re right there.¡± He whispered. ¡°How are we supposed to deal? With you being dead?¡± ¡°Well,¡± the imitation girl said sarcastically, ¡°what do you want? For me to tell you we¡¯ll meet up in heaven? Here¡¯s a weird thing; actually being dead, I think it¡¯s a lot easier to tell you that¡¯s all bullshit. Don¡¯t tell my dad though.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t have to deal with anything.¡± She added. ¡°You¡¯re good. Look at you, bunch of nerds with swords and magic and stuff. You¡¯re as cool as you always wanted to be. You can go fight monsters. You don¡¯t need me around. Besides, I was a bitch to you all the time anyway.¡± ¡°No you weren¡¯t.¡± Liam muttered. ¡°You were our friend.¡± Emma added. ¡°Well, I mean, you were also the worst.¡± Lincon said, breaking out of his exhausted glare to say something that took the other two off guard. ¡°But¡­ you were our friend.¡± ¡°They can both be true!¡± The potion person said cheerfully. Then her smile turned sad. ¡°Look, you know I¡¯m not real. I¡¯m just pretending. But that doesn¡¯t matter. You three, you¡¯ll be fine without me.¡± She shrugged, and when none of the other teenagers had anything to say, just shook her head. ¡°You already know it! It¡¯s okay to be fine, you morons.¡± And then, pushing back her chair and standing up, she stretched her arms over her head and wrapped up what she was saying. ¡°I¡¯m gonna put this person away now. One of me wants to be kind to you, but the me that¡¯s Brittany, just kinda doesn¡¯t give a shit. And she knows that you can make better friends anyway. So, see ya later, I guess.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Liam muttered, numb. ¡°See ya.¡± ¡°B-bye.¡± Emma stammered out, while Lincon just let out a long breath and didn¡¯t say anything. And then that person was gone, and there was just an infiltrator in its place. ¡°I would like to leave now.¡± It said in its hollow voice, turning directly to face James. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said sadly. ¡°Let me know if you need to talk later, okay?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The potion said. And then, with rapid steps, stalked out of the room. There was a moment where the only sound was the hum of the air conditioning and the motion of the other Order members moving around. James signaled to them that he¡¯d handle this conversation, and the group that had been nearby slowly moved away, dispersing and leaving him alone with the three teenagers who were all in various states of beat up, both physically and emotionally. ¡°Sorry I tried to stab her.¡± Lincon said eventually, one hand rubbing at the arm that had been broken up until a few hours ago when they¡¯d teleported back here and given him a purple orb. His voice held that kind of young-person shame, where they realized they¡¯d done something wrong, but didn¡¯t really want to *talk* about it. Because their culture sucked, and didn¡¯t teach kids how to talk about problems. James hated it, and so, decided to bulldoze over the awkward feeling. ¡°Yeah, that was bad.¡± He said with a nod. ¡°Going straight to violence when faced with an unknown is not a good sign, and seriously cuts down on how likely it is that we¡¯ll want to recruit you. That said, we¡¯ve got a number of good therapists around here, or we can work to help set you up with someone around your home. The process of maturity is, after all, a process. One screw up doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re a bad person.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± The kid flushed bright red, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. His friend jerked his head up, though. ¡°Wait, recruit us?¡± The other boy asked. ¡°So.¡± James leaned forward. ¡°I¡¯m given to understand you can make swords? That¡¯s neat. Want to talk about that, or do you have questions for me, first?¡± They did, in fact, have questions for him, first. _____ James had gotten a poke from one of the interns that Harvey had dispatched to fetch him before he could learn exactly *how* a bunch of teenage students could summon swords, which had disappointed him immensely. But with the promise that they¡¯d at least write it down, he¡¯d cut off the flow of their questions and handed them over to a couple members of Recover to handle their more immediate needs in terms of shelter, food, and letting their parents know they weren¡¯t dead. They had parents. It was¡­ James had forgotten people could have families. Well, not forgotten, but he¡¯d gotten used to working with his family. To the Order being most of the world, for most of the people in it. He didn¡¯t really *miss* his parents, exactly. They hadn¡¯t been awful, they¡¯d raised him okay. But there were just too many small moments that he could think of that had left him feeling betrayed or unsupported. Before they¡¯d been relocated courtesy of Status Quo, James hadn¡¯t even talked to them for almost a year. They¡¯d sent his sister to stay with him without even a phone call, they¡¯d casually non-invited him to family holidays; they were as absent as they could get. James shook off the feeling of being mildly jealous of a bunch of teenagers for having families that cared about them, and pushed open the door to the Response basement, intent on figuring out what Harvey had wanted to talk to him about in person. Things felt tense down here, and there were more people than James had expected. The halls were kept clear, which was basically mandatory, but the small break room held more than a few teams, and more people were waiting in the teleport landing station and in the large open dispatch room. James took in the crowd, and the quiet air, with a knowing grimace. It still hadn¡¯t been more than a day since they¡¯d fought people who might have a vested interest in hurting them back. And this time, no one wanted to be caught flat footed. Even the newer members of Response, the people who had been recruited recently and had never watched their friends die, knew what was up. And as James walked through the halls toward the side room Harvey had converted into an office, he felt eyes on him through the windows that the Order had replaced portions of the concrete down here with. Before he made it there, though, James was intercepted by an only partially human shape stepping out from one of the quiet side rooms they used when they had to bring civilians back and they needed a place to recover. Arrush, his modified ratroach form looming over James in a way that he¡¯d gotten practice living with from Alanna but still wasn¡¯t used to this magnitude of, gave an awkward wave of his two left side arms and cracked his muzzle open in greeting. ¡°Oh, hey.¡± James said, pulling up and steadying himself on the wall, looking up at the ratroach with some surprise. ¡°Fancy seeing you here.¡± ¡°Taking. Precautions.¡± Arrush rasped out, voice still harsh, badly placed lungs making talking harder for him than it should have been. ¡°Someone. Started a. Fight.¡± ¡°Okay, it wasn¡¯t my fault this time.¡± James said. ¡°But also, good to see you anyway.¡± He smiled. ¡°How¡¯re you and Keeka doing? Everything alright out there?¡± Arrush nodded, alternating rubbing at his furred arms with different sets of clawed hands, his five limbs working more in sync than James had noticed before. ¡°It is¡­ clean.¡± He said, with what looked like a distant grin. ¡°So are you, you look good.¡± James nodded at him. It wasn¡¯t an empty compliment, either. Arrush had taken a wicked amount of punishment when they¡¯d last ventured into a dungeon together, and despite Deb¡¯s furious understanding that ratroaches were built to break, he¡¯d healed up dramatically with proper care. No signs of broken bones or chitin, and the long term benefits of life with the Order had led to all the infected lines where his skin and chitin joined gradually receding to fur-obscured blendings. His eyes even looked clearer; the sharp cunning there that he¡¯d kept hidden for so long finally allowed to shine. ¡°Are you two okay with¡­ you know¡­ all the people here?¡± James asked with concern. The two ratroaches who had joined their ranks were¡­ well, ¡°shy¡± was a word that got thrown around a lot, and it was technically accurate but also didn¡¯t quite encompass just how uncomfortable the two could be around *anyone*. The remnants of their literal toxic upbringing taking more than just an abrupt relocation to shake off. ¡°Keeka is hiding.¡± Arrush said simply. ¡°Effectively.¡± The ratroach gave a slow dip of a nod, a motion he¡¯d practiced to make sure he didn¡¯t spray his acidic drool onto the floor when he answered. ¡°I am¡­ learning.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± James couldn¡¯t help a small smile. ¡°Making friends?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know yet.¡± Arrush admitted. ¡°Don¡¯t know¡­ what that means.¡± He rasped out, chest starting to rapidly heave as he had to take more shallow breaths to keep up. ¡°And am not¡­ human. Don¡¯t fit. Not proven.¡± James made a rude sputtering noise, and when Arrush cocked his head at him, he explained. ¡°Okay, I get being worried, because humans outnumber everyone else here, for now. But ¡®human¡¯ isn¡¯t a measure that the Order is interested in, okay? I know¡­ I know you¡¯re not used to it yet. I know how hard it can be to trust us. But what matters is that you¡¯re a person. Not what you¡¯re shaped like.¡± Arrush gazed down at him, mismatched and misaligned eyes narrowing. ¡°Small¡­ humans¡­ think I am¡­ monster. Not a person.¡± He gasped out, swapping between English and Spanish when the words were shorter. The reminder sparked an ember of anger in James¡¯ chest. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± He said. ¡°And I know that they¡¯re wrong.¡± He reached out, without thinking about it, and grabbed one of Arrush¡¯s rough and chitinous hands, setting his other hand on one of Arrush¡¯s arms, the ratroach flinching back at the sudden contact. ¡°You¡¯re a victim, and a person, and it really doesn¡¯t matter what they think because they aren¡¯t in charge here, and you will always have a place with us. Okay? You don¡¯t have to prove anything. The worth of a life is not based on whether or not you¡¯re ¡®being useful¡¯. It¡¯s inherent to who you are.¡± ¡°Could be¡­ more useful¡­¡± Arrush protested, tilting his triangular head up to stare at the ceiling, the sudden compassion and closeness taking him off guard. ¡°Sure, if you want to.¡± James said with a nod. ¡°But only if *you* want to. Ask around, see if anyone needs help with something that interests you. Find your own place. There¡¯s no rush. And if you need to, you can always go back to the empty city for a while.¡± James grinned. ¡°Also, ¡®small humans¡¯ are called kids, and¡­ actually, wait, you do know how human life cycles work, right?¡± ¡°¡­no?¡± Arrush was more confused than sheepish. The question had never occurred to him. ¡°Ah. Okay. So, I need to get to a meeting, and this is absolutely a longer conversation than I was expecting. I¡¯ll be around later tonight, if you want me to try and fail to explain it. Or, like¡­ Deeeb? Deb could explain¡­ Deb is busy.¡± James licked his lips, a concerned expression on his face. ¡°Who would be good at¡­ Sarah! Go talk to Sarah! She¡¯ll either be good at this, or it¡¯ll be incredibly funny.¡± James decided. ¡°Thank¡­ you.¡± Arrush said suddenly, tightening his hand around James¡¯. ¡°Of course.¡± James answered easily. ¡°I need to go now. Do you¡­ would you like a hug? I¡¯ve been trying to make that normal around here.¡± Arrush suddenly found that his throat wouldn¡¯t move to make the words he wanted to say. A feeling, something akin to the fear he was used to living with, but sideways, different, flooding through his limbs. But all the same, he was used to it, and these days, he found, it wasn¡¯t enough to stop him. So he slowly nodded. With a smile, James slipped inside Arrush¡¯s guard and wrapped his arms around the ratroach¡¯s torso. Fur that used to be wiry and matted, now clean and almost silken, tickled against his face as he leaned into the larger frame. Slowly, with a languous trepidation, one of Arrush¡¯s arms folded around James¡¯ shoulders. Then another, and another, until all five of his hands were laid across James¡¯ back. They held that moment, of quiet companionship and unconditional compassion, for a good minute. Arrush, finally, let his muscles untense, stood down his preparation to be assaulted, and just let himself be there. All fear, for a moment, gone. Then he shifted slightly, and a single drop of glowing blue saliva dropped from the corner of his maw onto James¡¯ cheek. ¡°Yawp!¡± James exclaimed, jerking backward and rapidly freeing one of his arms to swipe at his skin. Arrush, hearts suddenly hammering, whipped away and unconsciously brought his guard up while James frantically wiped at the hissing spot on his exposed face. ¡°Ow, ow, nope! Ow!¡± He brought his shirt sleeve up, sacrificing the cloth to scrub the substance off. ¡°Dammit, forgot about that.¡± ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Arrush stammered, pressing himself back toward the door. ¡°Oh.¡± James¡¯ expression softened, the pain rapidly receding as he got the tiny drop of matter off his skin. ¡°Hey. No worries. It happens.¡± He said, poking at the red mark on his skin. James sighed at the small spike of pain, on par with a bad sunburn. ¡°Look, at this point, I¡¯m pretty much resigned to my face never getting a break. Accidents happen, and they¡¯re not something to get mad over. You¡¯re fine, okay?¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± Arrush whisper-rasped. Still not sure, but then¡­ well, maybe James hadn¡¯t been lying at all. Maybe it was unconditional. Truly. ¡°Alright.¡± James nodded, patting his furred shoulder one more time. ¡°Now, I actually have to go before Harvey gets busy. Remember, what *you* want, yeah?¡± He said, stepping past Arrush and continuing down the hall to the sharp corner that led to Harvey¡¯s office, waving over his shoulder as he did so. Arrush stood there staring after him for some time. Until, at least, an airy voice that sounded like it had many of the same problems as his own whispered down from where Keeka was crouched on top of the ventilation pipe overhead. ¡°I like him.¡± Arrush¡¯s boyfriend said. ¡°Yes.¡± He agreed. _____ ¡°Yo. Is now a good time?¡± James asked, pushing open Harvey¡¯s door. ¡°No.¡± Harvey replied, but waved for James to grab a seat anyway. He looked¡­ not tired, really. Though his short, fluffy hair was more salt than pepper in its salt and pepper coloration these days, Harvey had a fire to him that James had gotten familiar with as he¡¯d worked more with the man. Running Response had consumed what was left of his life after surviving Officium Mundi. But more than that, he had consumed the role. And it had given him focus. Direction. Purpose. All things Harvey tapped into, to produce an inexhaustible wellspring of energy. Harvey worked harder than James and loved it, and while James didn¡¯t *get* that, he was eternally grateful that Harvey had chosen to stick with them. ¡°I heard that Matt and Ethan both got hurt during the whole¡­ thing.¡± James opened with. ¡°If you need someone to cover their spots, let me know.¡± Harvey looked up with eyebrows raised so far they threatened to leave his forehead. ¡°Didn¡¯t you get thrown through a window and then most of a building, and nearly bleed out?¡± Harvey asked. ¡°As in, that happened three hours ago?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James confirmed with a nod. ¡°I got better.¡± ¡°Fine. You¡¯re on call from six to eight tonight then.¡± Harvey accepted him at face value. ¡°But that¡¯s not what I need. Are you familiar with the field effect?¡± ¡°Reed¡¯s been talking about it lately. I¡¯m under the impression that this is one of those things that¡¯s currently a theory but is probably correct?¡± James said. Harvey nodded. ¡°More or less. And as far as Research has been able to actually find examples, it seems to hit larger scale organizations and bureaucracies harder than people like us.¡± He paused, then looked up from his laptop, spinning it around to face James. ¡°Which is why Youtube videos of you throwing half a road around and teleporting away don¡¯t get promoted by the algorithm.¡± James gnawed at his upper lip, letting out a low ¡°aahhhhhh¡± sound as he watched himself from the perspective of a professional camera operator, looking like an action movie protagonist backed up by a full special effects department. ¡°Okay. In my defense¡­¡± He started to say. But Harvey just waved him off, pulling his laptop back and closing it to set on top of a stack of clipped reports that towered on his desk. His whole office was half furniture, half bankers boxes full of backup copies of documents, a fallback defense against surface level infomorph attack. ¡°I¡¯m not actually mad.¡± He said. ¡°No one is. We just need to decide what to do when one of these sneaks by, and we *do* go public. Or if we should go public on our terms. And I mean more than just Response, yeah.¡± James leaned forward on one arm perched on the edge of Harvey¡¯s overloaded desk. ¡°You mean go public, *as the Order*, right?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Harvey said. ¡°It might actually be our best defense against, say, the FBI. Being in the spotlight. Being *known*, even if some infomorphs push back.¡± James blinked. He¡¯d realized that Harvey had wanted them to step up their operations, and they *had been*, but Harvey was the one who always pushed to move faster, to do more. And now, here he was, basically asking¡­ ¡°You want to break the masquerade.¡± James said. ¡°Beg your pardon?¡± Harvey turned the sentence into a single word. ¡°It¡¯s a nerd term, for when magic in a fictional world is somehow unnoticed. The masquerade. Pretend that everything¡¯s normal, or enforce that normality.¡± James nodded to himself. ¡°And you think we could get more done, if¡­ well¡­¡± ¡°If we could raise paper airplane dragons to run search and rescue. If we could start making large scale folded space apartments freely available now, not just when we build a future city. If we could make the exploration and use of dungeon resources for the betterment of the planet a large scale endeavor, not just something that fifty people do once a week. If¡­¡± Harvey stopped himself, and met James eyes, just waiting to see what James said in reply. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± James answered easily. ¡°You don¡¯t need to *sell me on this*, man. I¡¯m already on board with basically everything you said. My only concern is if we get hit with a predator drone before we can stop it because we piss off the wrong people.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think being public saves us. But then, it¡¯s not like we¡¯ve been hiding. And part of that is because I wanted to test¡­ how the world reacts. How things change, when we start going out to Home Depot with camracondas, or tipping people with skill orbs.¡± James looked over his shoulder. ¡°How people might react to someone who looks like¡­ a monster.¡± He said, refocusing on Harvey. ¡°Badly.¡± Harvey said, pessimistically. ¡°I heard that already today.¡± James said. ¡°But yeah, the fact that dungeons have *really* harsh infosec makes this a challenge. And the presence of bad faith actors makes it a huge risk, if we don¡¯t think we can keep people safe. And I hate, absolutely *hate* being the person saying ¡®wait until the right time¡¯. But I don¡¯t think we¡¯re ready. We don¡¯t even have an organizational structure, just a developing culture.¡± ¡°So we make one of those.¡± Harvey said. ¡°I¡¯ve got some ideas.¡± ¡°Everyone does!¡± James grinned. ¡°That¡¯s the great part. We¡¯ve got a place now where everyone has ideas, and talks about them, constantly.¡± He gave Harvey a questioning shrug. ¡°So, let¡¯s do that. Let¡¯s get started on the foundation. Our contact with the Alchemists is stalled out while they recover from¡­ uh¡­ everything. There¡¯s nothing stopping us right now. Set up one of those big group meetings. Set up a few of them, so we can really dig into this! Let¡¯s figure out how we want to organize ourselves.¡± Harvey slowly looked down at a sheet of neatly written notes that he had in front of himself, then back up at James, then back down at his notes again. He sighed. ¡°You know, you skip a ton of steps in these conversations.¡± He said eventually. ¡°I thought you might do the thing you do where you¡¯re afraid of change.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of change, I¡¯m afraid of changing into something that I hate.¡± James said. ¡°But¡­ Harvey, you¡¯re in the same building I am. You know the kind of people we work with, who we¡¯re building this with.¡± ¡°I do.¡± Harvey cut him off. ¡°Good people. And not all of them started that way.¡± He pointed out. ¡°We recruited some real assholes for Response.¡± ¡°How¡¯s that experiment working out?¡± James asked, suddenly curious. ¡°You can only work here for so long before the rough edges get worn away, or you quit.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Or get kicked, I guess. We¡¯ve fired a couple people who wouldn¡¯t learn. But even they left better than they got here.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± James said. ¡°Glad it¡¯s working. So yeah, let¡¯s move forward. You don¡¯t need my permission, though.¡± Harvey glared at him briefly. ¡°Everyone here listens to you. Mostly because you saved everyone¡¯s life at least once, mostly.¡± He said bluntly. ¡°You don¡¯t wanna be in charge, but you can steer things anyway. I had a whole speech about how if you really wanted to set aside authority, we had to build a system where authority was official and spread out, and you made that useless.¡± ¡°But you got to say it now.¡± James pointed out with a grin. ¡°It¡¯s not the same.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll have Karen start setting things up. In the meantime, I want to recruit a couple people to run online presence for us.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ uh, why?¡± James asked. ¡°Because you keep getting in fights on camera, and algorithm or not, people see that. It¡¯d be worth having someone who knows how to be civil in the comments section, and represent us well.¡± James nodded begrudgingly. ¡°Find a couple people, and I¡¯ll make time to interview ¡®em.¡± Harvey gave him an incredulous stare, and James held up his hands defensively. ¡°I like doing the interviews!¡± He said. As Harvey shook his head and laughed, and James stood up, he had one last thought. ¡°Oh, what *is* the comment section on that video like? Do people¡­ uh¡­ fuck this is gonna sound stupid. Do people at least think I look cool?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Harvey opened his laptop and scrolled down just to see if anything had changed since he last saw it. ¡°Remember, this kinda got buried, so it only has a couple thousand views. And¡­ well, look, there was a camraconda in shot toward the end.¡± ¡°So?¡± James asked. ¡°So all the comments are just people saying ¡®magic snake¡¯, and that¡¯s basically it.¡± Harvey told him. James stared at him for a good long moment, before he took a deep breath and turned to leave. ¡°I¡¯m going back to bed.¡± He said. ¡°Wake me up when I¡¯m as cool as a camraconda, in the internet¡¯s eyes.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get bored long before then.¡± Harvey said as James stalked out of his office. Chapter 189 ¡°The sky above the port was the color of a television, tuned to a dead channel.¡± -William Gibson, Neuromancer- _____ ¡°So you just have to think about it, and you get a sword?¡± Morgan asked, feeling a little silly as he said the words. ¡°I mean, that sounds cool, I guess.¡± The other teenager gave a shrug that didn¡¯t do much to cover up a boastful smile. ¡°It is cool.¡± Liam admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s not just thinking about it. We have to focus on the spell for a while, and then it sticks into a slot in our¡­ uh¡­ souls, I guess? And then we can use it.¡± He shut up as the two teens went up to the counter of the convenience store they¡¯d walked to, and paid for their snacks under the suspicious leer of the older woman behind the counter. Morgan waited until they¡¯d left before speaking up again. ¡°So, like D&D wizards, huh?¡± He asked. ¡°Not my thing.¡± Liam admitted. ¡°Linc¡¯s more into the game stuff. I just like the action. I guess that¡¯s why I¡¯m good at the sword one. Emma¡¯s better at the defensive stuff, and Linc just¡­ I guess he¡¯s good at whatever else. Mistellanious?¡± ¡°Okay, well, it¡¯s like wizards.¡± Morgan said, forgoing a long winded explanation both of D&D, and of correcting Liam¡¯s grammar. He *could* have gone into extensive detail, but he¡¯d been recalcitrant to actually talk about his new hobby with anyone. ¡°Still cool.¡± The other boy wore an even more entrenched self-satisfied grin as he popped open a bag of chips and started eating as they crossed the street and started the half mile walk back toward the Lair. ¡°So, what¡¯s your mutant power?¡± Liam asked. ¡°What?¡± Morgan gave a confused look, mouth half full of a candy bar that was novel by the fact that it was actually manufactured on Earth¡¯s surface. ¡°You know, your magic or whatever. What can you do?¡± Morgan gave a drawn out and awkward ¡®uh¡¯, before saying, ¡°I store breath as some kind of mana? That¡¯s mostly on accident, because I didn¡¯t die in a snowstorm. Oh, and I¡¯m mostly immune to cancer!¡± Liam laughed. ¡°Wait, I thought everyone at this place was a wizard or something?¡± ¡°That¡¯s mostly just James. And Momo, I guess. And, like, a lot of people have something they¡¯ve picked up or are good at. But, like, Mars is just a really good engineer who has access to magic items, you know?¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°I just live there.¡± ¡°Wait, you *live* there?¡± Liam looked incredulous. ¡°Are you being held prisoner or something? Do we need to rescue you?¡± He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. A car drove by on the street. The concrete of the sidewalk darkened as a grim cloud overtook the thin breach the sun was coming through. The late December wind shoved against their coats, trying its best to convince them to stop snacking and put their hands back in their pockets. Morgan looked around at the outside that they were currently standing in, a half mile from the Lair, all on their own. ¡°No?¡± He said. ¡°What? No.¡± ¡°But¡­ where do you *stay*?¡± Liam asked incredulously. ¡°In one of the rooms? I have my own room.¡± Morgan got defensive, before he paused and started to add, ¡°Well, technically I guess Color-Of-Dawn and I share a-¡° ¡°The rooms are tiny! It¡¯s like sleeping in a prison!¡± Liam burst out. ¡°You can¡¯t *live* there! What, do your parents just not care about you?¡± Briefly, Morgan considered if his ongoing martial arts and strength training would let him punch *through* the other teenager. But then, he remembered the attitude everyone around him had shown when *he¡¯d* been an asshole, and just let Liam¡¯s dumbass words wash off. ¡°Well, my mom¡¯s dead.¡± He said casually, weaponizing an awkward aura like it was nuclear fallout. ¡°My dad literally forgot she existed, and became an abusive alcoholic. So, you¡¯re not *wrong*.¡± He shot Liam a look, noting the horrified expression on his walking companion¡¯s face. ¡°But also shut the fuck up.¡± Morgan added. ¡°Oh shit, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Liam backtracked. Sort of. ¡°Wait, shouldn¡¯t you, like, be living with family or something? That still doesn¡¯t explain the tiny room.¡± What Morgan wanted to explain, but couldn¡¯t be sure he¡¯d be be able to say without sounding excessively defensive and¡­ small, really, was that the room he had now was bigger than where he¡¯d been living before. So instead, he replied to a different part of the sentence. ¡°I have a family.¡± He told Liam. ¡°I *do* live with them.¡± ¡°No, like, your *real* family.¡± ¡°Wow, that¡¯s such a shitty thing to say!¡± The words came out without Morgan thinking about them, he was just so shocked. ¡°Why would you say that?¡± It was weird. Morgan had never been a very social person, he¡¯d practically been terrified of talking to other kids at school, avoided conversations whenever possible. He¡¯d had one friend, basically. And then, when he¡¯d first come to the Order, he¡¯d¡­ made one friend, and kind of been fine with that, too. But every single part of his daily life was a learning moment, in some way. And, someone wiser than Morgan had once said, if no one makes you do it, learning counts as fun. So he¡¯d learned, bit by bit, to fit into a local culture where everyone put a ton of effort into being earnest with each other, apologizing with sincerity, and acting with trust. And those social walls he¡¯d built for himself, he dismantled bit by bit, simply by getting straight answers on why people acted the way they did. And now, here he was, seeing someone be kind of an enormous asshole to him, and the only thing he could think was that from a broader perspective, Liam was getting *really* defensive for no reason. He wasn¡¯t even listening to the words anymore as the other kid tried to explain himself. He was just sort of marveling, partly at what it felt like to suddenly realize that he had all the tools to pick apart the details of a sentence without getting angry about it, and partly at just how *committed* to looking like he was right Liam was. ¡°Dude.¡± Morgan jumped in during a pause in Liam¡¯s ramble. ¡°I live with people who make sure I¡¯m not hungry, and I have a really good bed. It¡¯s fine, okay? I¡¯m fine with it. I like it. Also, there¡¯s movie nights and stuff. Okay?¡± ¡°Alright¡­¡± Liam said. ¡°But like, what are you gonna do for college? Like, if your parents can¡¯t cover it.¡± As much as Morgan felt like Liam was from a completely alien culture, that was actually a good question. ¡°I dunno.¡± He said. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t know what I want to do, I guess. I¡¯ll ask James about the college thing later.¡± ¡°Wait, so, is *James* kind of like your dad?¡± Liam said, trying to put things into his own context. ¡°Please no!¡± Morgan said with a long sigh. ¡°He¡¯s just¡­ uh¡­¡± Morgan stopped and thought about it. ¡°Wait, fuck.¡± He muttered. ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t have a good answer for that.¡± Morgan felt like he owed whoever taught him that he could just say that some kind of life debt. ¡°But no, anyway.¡± The two of them took a corner and the Lair came into sight, the flat box of a building looking pretty inauspicious, just another normal flex space warehouse in a line of the things, the magic inside utterly hidden. ¡°You guys are sticking around for a bit, right?¡± Morgan asked. Liam groaned dramatically. ¡°Yeah, no one wants us to go back until they can make sure that the Alchemists won¡¯t murder us or something. Not that I can¡¯t take ¡®em!¡± He boasted inaccurately. ¡°But we¡¯re here for a couple more days.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± Morgan nodded. ¡°Wanna hang out with Color-Of-Dawn and me and play Street Fighter?¡± ¡°¡­Yeah, okay.¡± Liam said slowly. Morgan had another one of those moments, where he could almost instantly put together that this potential new friend was trying not to seem too eager because he was afraid of looking dumb in front of someone. And suddenly, he *got it*. He got why James liked the way the Order did things so much better. Because he¡¯d talked to a dozen people in the last week, and never once been *afraid of them*. Liam was being defensive and holding back because he didn¡¯t trust the *whole conversation*. Not that he didn¡¯t trust Morgan, he probably hadn¡¯t thought of that. But he was actually worried about being himself. That was¡­ kinda depressing. Had Morgan been like that? He couldn¡¯t really remember. Even with weekly therapy sessions, a lot of his life over the last four years blurred into a haze of foggy uncertainty. But he was pretty sure he¡¯d been like that. He didn¡¯t say any of that. He didn¡¯t feel like he needed to. Instead, he just gave a reassuring nod, said ¡°Cool¡±, and led the way back into the Lair. Small steps. _____ ¡°It¡¯s been three days.¡± Alanna told James from the door to his office that he was inexplicably in again. ¡°And still no problems. And it¡¯s Office Day, and I really want to do that.¡± ¡°Oh god, Office Day.¡± James groaned, throwing his arms back over his head and tilting his chair back. ¡°I forgot!¡± ¡°How in the hell have you gotten to a point where exploring the magical extradimensional world full of arcane pens is the thing you forget?¡± Alanna demanded of him, folding her arms judgmentally. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy!¡± James said. ¡°With¡­ lots of stuff, I guess. I spent all of yesterday with Bill, because he dragged Arrush and I out to run experiments with the heat transfer spell, and holy shit was that exhausting.¡± He paused, idly tapping a pen on the table while he formed a thought. ¡°Also, can I just say, Bill is a really impressive dude?¡± ¡°How so?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°I mean, yeah, he is. But how specifically?¡± James framed an empty space in front of him with his hands. ¡°What, exactly, would you classify Arrush as?¡± ¡°Adorably gay.¡± Alanna said instantly. ¡°No, wait, you mean to a random person. Uh¡­ kind of terrifying, probably? With the extra arms and the acid drippy thing and the¡­ is it pronounced chitin? I¡¯ve never gotten a clear answer on¡­ wait, there wasn''t a problem with that, was there?¡± ¡°There was not. That¡¯s my point.¡± James nodded. ¡°Bill is so aggressively meritocratic it¡¯s almost painful. I think he likes Arrush more than me, just because Arrush can carry more at once.¡± He rubbed at the ache in his shoulders, a reminder of yesterday¡¯s labor. ¡°I dunno, he¡¯s kinda the closest thing we have to an outside perspective around here right now, alongside our lawyer, and I get that that¡¯ll keep on fading over time, but it¡¯s just nice to have a ¡®normal¡¯ person who has no problem with nonhuman life.¡± He concluded. ¡°Okay, yeah, that¡¯s a start.¡± Alanna conceded. ¡°He¡¯s not doing the ¡®your dad¡¯ thing, is he?¡± ¡°My dad continues to be missing, Alanna.¡± James said slowly. ¡°I¡¯m not sure¡­ oh, you mean the really unpleasant version of pseudo-tolerance, don¡¯t you? Dammit.¡± James pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°No, he¡¯s not doing that. He actually did acknowledge it, too, sort of. Of course, then he had us generate a test flow system for a small building¡¯s internal temperature control, which he was obviously more interested in.¡± Alanna nodded sagely. ¡°I have this running theory. That everyone is secretly a massive nerd, once you get them interested in something.¡± ¡°Sure, makes sense. I¡¯ve met sports fans.¡± James agreed. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m tired, but I¡¯m up for Office things, if you¡¯re going.¡± ¡°I am going.¡± Alanna confirmed. ¡°If it¡¯s on the table, obviously.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°You know I¡¯m not the one to make that decision.¡± He cocked an eyebrow at Alanna¡¯s responding snort. ¡°Really.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m fine making decisions that are the things I¡¯m good at, but security is Nate¡¯s department. And the people he¡¯s training. Just like how I¡¯m leaving ¡®buy an office building¡¯ to Karen, to secure the Office. Sure, I know it¡¯s a good *idea*, but how the heck am I supposed to go about doing that? I shouldn¡¯t be in charge of that project!¡± There was a metal *chunk* noise from out in the main office space they still had a lease on, here in the LA skyline, that made Alanna jump slightly. James didn¡¯t react, because he knew it was just someone using the vending machine, but he did give his partner a worried look. He was about to say something to her, when Momo poked her head around the door, wedging herself between the frame and Alanna¡¯s torso. ¡°Hey boss.¡± She declared, getting James to glare at her. ¡°Can I have the list?¡± Alanna¡¯s brief panic washed away. ¡°What list?¡± She asked. ¡°We don¡¯t do lists here.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lie at best.¡± James laughed. ¡°You know Research has a massive spreadsheet of skills and stuff from the dungeon, right? Oh! Did you know someone just has ¡®operations - blender¡¯ as a skill?¡± ¡°Hey, don¡¯t joke about that.¡± Momo said, starting to lose her balance. ¡°I¡¯ve been a barista. Blenders are serious shit.¡± She twisted her neck in a way that James was reasonably sure wasn¡¯t physically possible for a baseline human to look up at Alanna. ¡°Also the list of the new kids¡¯ skills.¡± James held up the notebook he was tapping at with his pen, and passed it across the desk as Momo scurried in to grab it from his hand. ¡°I need that back later.¡± He said. ¡°And they call them spells.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Momo agreed. ¡°Anything good?¡± ¡°They work like D&D wizards.¡± James said. ¡°I don¡¯t see any obvious synergies with anything we have, really. The spells they were using were Protective Intercept for blocking - oh, they bought those shields off eBay, by the way - Tether Together for the dome shield thing¡­¡± ¡°Is that the one super gram said was a fate thingy?¡± Momo interjected. ¡°Yes.¡± James said before continuing, ticking off on his fingers as he went, ¡°And then they had Manifest Blade for the swords. Research apparently got one of them to try that, they¡¯re actually worse than the sword JP carries everywhere.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Then they have a handful of things that I have categorized as ¡®why¡¯. Seize Seat makes a chair. Dire Prune seems to actually remove matter, but only dead matter that¡¯s on plants and is harmful to the plant. And Saint¡¯s Wrap lets them make a towel.¡± Alanna coughed into her fist. ¡°Sorry, a towel? Like¡­ a hand towel?¡± ¡°I mean, a shower towel. A me-sized shower towel, not a you-sized shower towel. It¡¯s not a great towel.¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°Their magic¡­ I hate to say this, but it sucks. I feel like they *must* have missed something in their dungeon.¡± ¡°I mean, they did trap you in a dome of fog or something.¡± Momo said. ¡°And anything with the term ¡®fate¡¯ applied just cannot be good. Right?¡± ¡°Yeah, I figure¡­ oh, ¡®scuse me.¡± James paused as there was a skittering noise, and then an upside down Rufus scurried into his office with the same energy Momo had earlier, only doing so on a rope of paperclips that was hanging from James¡¯ ceiling. James reached up and took the manilla folder that Rufus passed him with outstretched pen legs. ¡°Thanks buddy.¡± He said. ¡°Hey, we¡¯re going to the Office tonight, want to come along and explore a bit?¡± Rufus stared at James with a disbelieving, unblinking eye, before slowly raising his forelegs to cross in front of his face, dangling from the paperclips like a spider. ¡°Alright, alright.¡± James said. ¡°Just thought I¡¯d ask.¡± He added the folder to his desk while Rufus scuttled out again. ¡°Is that why those are there?¡± Alanna asked with a bemused expression. ¡°He doesn¡¯t wanna get stepped on, and honestly, this is a perfectly reasonable compromise.¡± James said. ¡°Because no one wants to step on Rufus anyway. I¡¯m gonna have Bill rig up something more permanent, before I let him drag me out to be a human HVAC again. Assuming this isn¡¯t a strider superpower to hang from paperclips specifically.¡± James paused. ¡°I should ask on that. Hey Rufus!¡± He called. No response. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll ask later. Anyway, where were we?¡± ¡°*I* was gonna ask if you wanted to go for a jog before tonight, and you were complaining about¡­ buying a building?¡± Alanna said. ¡°Momo was interrupting me.¡± ¡°I was not!¡± ¡°Oh, right. Momo. I think they¡¯re missing magic items somehow. Or missing how they can actually use the books and spell slots they got. Can you talk to them sometime? But, like¡­ be sneaky about it.¡± ¡°Sneaky how and why?¡± Momo asked with narrowed eyes. ¡°They¡¯re teenagers.¡± James said. ¡°And they¡¯re not¡­ they¡¯re not bad people, but they are *exactly* who we should be thinking of when we say someone isn¡¯t ready for power.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But we¡¯re still willing to trade quite a bit for their dungeon¡¯s information. So that¡¯s your job. Make friends.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sending Momo to be a diplomat?¡± Alanna raised her eyebrows incredulously. ¡°Yeah, what she said.¡± Momo pointed behind herself at Alanna. ¡°I don¡¯t make friends.¡± Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°You literally do.¡± James stared at her. ¡°You were on Sarah¡¯s podcast literally yesterday discussing infomorph inception methods.¡± ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t listen to that!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t, Texture-Of-Barkdust gave me a .mem file.¡± James said, tapping his skulljack. ¡°Anyway. Get out of my office, you gremlin.¡± Momo slipped under where Alanna was leaning on the doorframe again, opting to not simply go around her, muttering all the while about how she was gonna set off a totem under the kids just so they¡¯d avoid her. James doubted that¡¯d work the way she expected. ¡°Well that was¡­ Momo.¡± Alanna said, clearing her throat. ¡°Doesn¡¯t make friends my ass.¡± James grumbled. He looked up at Alanna, still shaking his head. ¡°A jog, really? Here?¡± ¡°Outside, you dumbass.¡± Alanna smirked at him. ¡°It¡¯ll be good for you. Also we¡¯ve got a ton of exercise potion so you won¡¯t even be sore.¡± ¡°Oh my god I could just take one now.¡± James slapped his head. ¡°My poor shoulders!¡± Alanna held up the thin glass vial, full of red liquid, and waggled it back and forth in her hand. ¡°I¡¯ll give you this if you come running with me.¡± ¡°God dammit we¡¯ve upgraded to running.¡± James groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. ¡°Okay. But I¡¯m getting a drink first.¡± His partner waited patiently while he picked a random drink, blindly covered the label, cracked it open, and took a sip. And then made a horrified noise at the flavor of drinking a pancake. Alanna watched on as James¡¯ face twisted in concern, and then he took another sip. ¡°Stop drinking it!¡± She exclaimed after the third sip and groan. ¡°I can¡¯t. I¡¯ve committed to this.¡± James said, before gulping down the last of the can. And feeling something hit the back of his throat, making him choke slightly, before a small burst of pressure formed in his mouth, and a thought ran through his head, even as a squawk left his mouth. [Shell Upgraded : Breathing - Exhalation Force - PSI - +14.8] ¡°Ooh, orb?¡± Alanna asked, giving the vending machine an unreturned high-five that was really more of a pat on the side. ¡°Aaah, my tongue.¡± James poked at his mouth. ¡°Also what a useless orb.¡± ¡°Great! No need to feel guilty for not copying it!¡± Alanna told him. ¡°Now let¡¯s go! I¡¯ve been standing around for half an hour and I wanna move!¡± James chuckled, and followed her, the two of them both looking forward to that evening. _____ ¡°Okay. So.¡± Chevoy held up a paperweight as an example. Not *the* paperweight, just one that was lying around. It wasn¡¯t actually a paperweight, except in the technical sense; it was just a polished rock. But it was the thought that counted, and it was flat. ¡°The Paperweight is incapable of moving in a single direction relative to its own orientation, but it can be rotated to change this axis. If it¡¯s entirely upright, the plane of movement is limited to the horizontal plane. If you tilt it slightly, it will now act as if on a slope and will thus move down and sideways due to gravity. If you then push the paperweight towards the "upward" part of the slope, it will likewise get a higher position. You can think of this something like a wing.¡± Next to her, Mars nodded like an enthusiastic puppy, a massive grin on his face. ¡°The interesting part comes when you have *more than one* paperweight! If you have two of them at an angle compared to the ground, but one goes "uphill" in the north direction, while the other goes "uphill" south, you can now rise in elevation by pushing them apart with no contact with the ground. Of course, there is a limit on how far you can practically push to objects apart with a piston or piston-esque object, but that¡¯s not the point.¡± Anesh stared at the two of them. Then looked around the Research floor, wondering why no one would meet his questioning look. Even the pod of domesticated shellaxies, snug in their pen in the middle of the floor, looked like they were trying to avoid this conversation. This was, clearly, something they had already inflicted on everyone here. Multiple times, probably. ¡°Okay, first off.¡± Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°I was lured down here because Reed said he had a couple questions about infusing blue orbs? Also while that is cool, and I am all about getting us to space don¡¯t get me wrong, I am here for a reason. And¡­ wait, wouldn¡¯t that setup not work once you get too far out of a gravity well anyway? That seems¡­ Hm.¡± Anesh realized what was happening. He was getting trapped. But this was kind of neat anyway. ¡°We aren¡¯t finished yet!¡± Chevoy declared, tossing their example rock onto her desk and settling a hand on her hip as she chastised Anesh. ¡°Of course you aren¡¯t.¡± Anesh sighed. Mars kept going like he hadn¡¯t ever stopped talking and all the momentum was driving him forward like some kind of rocket engine. ¡°So, what¡¯s *really* important, is that the paperweight can *rotate*.¡± He was rapping his knuckles together for emphasis as he spoke, the pattern one of a rehearsed speech. ¡°If placed on a track of some sort, it should be able to move as long as the plane of allowed movement is tangential to the trajectory of the paperweight through space at all points! Do you see?¡± ¡°He sees.¡± Chevoy nodded. Anesh did see. He saw a world where their greatest enemy became OSHA, more than anyone else. He rubbed a hand across his face. ¡°So, you¡¯re suggesting, and correct me if I¡¯m wrong here, that we make several copies of the magical paperweight, link them in some kind of¡­ wheel¡­ and essentially build the world¡¯s least safe helicopter.¡± ¡°Alanna *did* recently ask for a helicopter¡­¡± Chevoy ran a hand over her mouth as she thought about it. ¡°But no, don¡¯t be silly. This wouldn¡¯t be able to easily operate on a multi-axis system without serious, *serious* resource investment.¡± ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve built the world¡¯s least safe *elevator*.¡± Mars corrected. ¡°We actually have a small prototype.¡± Chevoy added. ¡°Not here, obviously, because no one wanted to risk¡­ us.¡± Anesh snorted. ¡°Fair.¡± He interjected briefly. The engineers were undeterred though, and Mars kept going. ¡°It¡¯s actually not that unsafe! The locking mechanism works fine, we¡¯ve tested it to two hundred feet, it *appears* to constantly keep itself geostationary, so building a large scale one with things like ¡®safety features¡¯ and¡­ uh¡­ security? I guess? That would be pretty easy, is my point.¡± ¡°Anyway, we built you a space elevator that can technically reach orbit with a bike pedal and a metal platform!¡± Chevoy added gleefully. ¡°Happy birthday! You work for NASA, right?¡± There were no words for this situation, Anesh realized. He wasn¡¯t¡­ *mad* at them, obviously. But normally, when people got him gifts, he politely thanked them and then hid for the rest of the day because the act of receiving a gift was harrowing. This¡­ this was untenable. He could not hide from a space elevator. One of the shellaxies noticed his mild confusion masquerading as distress, and waddled over on its cable tendrils to butt itself against the little fence that kept them all in, chiming at him softly. Anesh blinked once, focused on what he was doing, and stooped down to pet the boxy creature. ¡®Gingerbread Cookie¡¯ read the nametag piece of electrical tape on the shell. Anesh chuckled. The Research department was having to dig deep to find new names for these little friends. He looked up at Mars and Chevoy. ¡°Okay.¡± He said calmly. ¡°So, to be clear on this. At one point, James and I mentioned the future of humanity in space travel in passing, and you then designed a space elevator?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± They said at the same time. ¡°This is like¡­ we asked you for some ketchup, and you went out and pulled a heist on a McDonald¡¯s cargo ship.¡± Anesh patted the shellaxy one more time and stood up, dusting his hands off and trying to ignore his knee popping. ¡°Okay. Cool. I love it. I really do. But, mates, I came down here to ask about the blue orb thing? I really don¡¯t have time to talk about how¡­ I mean¡­ this revolutionizes launches, at least, in terms of cost¡­ we could probably rent out¡­ hm. No, no!¡± He shook a finger at them accusingly like they were the problem. ¡°The orbs!¡± Reed, sensing the threat of being caught in another engineering explanation was mostly past, walked by lugging a deep cardboard box full of pens. ¡°They¡¯re infusions, like life for every other orb color.¡± He called to Anesh as he walked by, Anesh waving to the engineers to break off and trail in Reed¡¯s wake as he made his way over to a shelf against the wall of an overcrowded corridor and slammed the box down on an empty spot. ¡°Whooof. Yeah, they¡¯re life. Alex was right. But you can¡¯t make them like normal life, it doesn¡¯t work. They¡¯re just a tiny bit of intelligent decision making, not an actual person.¡± ¡°Ethically shaky, determining what is and isn¡¯t a person.¡± Anesh hummed as he pursed his lips at Reed, face contorting in concern. The curly haired head of Research waved him off with one hand while he rearranged something in his box. ¡°Look, we have a lot of weird shit down here. Let me tell you that we¡¯ve run a *bunch* of different tests for communication or emotion off of the various blue items, before we even started trying to make them.¡± Anesh wasn¡¯t sure he believed that, but he was on a time limit. ¡°Just¡­ tell me what I need to know so I can pass it along.¡± ¡°The basics? Dungeontech items are slightly alive, not people, and are really, *really* rigid in focus. Ethically, if you *really* want to measure it, and I don¡¯t, it¡¯s probably more okay to make a magic item than to, like, eat chicken? Anyway. Your best bet is making things that add one strange function to something that already does a thing. Like, no trying to turn a stick into headphones, you know? Turn headphones into slightly better headphones.¡± He shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re working on more stuff. Oh! Someone made a paper dragon that¡¯s kind of like what you said Pendragon was as a baby. Can you ask Dave to come by sometime and make sure we¡¯re not screwing anything up?¡± ¡°Reed, how much life are you making down here?¡± ¡°Not¡­ too much!¡± Reed flushed red, not meeting Anesh¡¯s eyes. ¡°Anyway, I have to go check on some stuff. We can catch up later, right?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t know if he should groan or laugh. James would laugh, probably, but James wasn¡¯t here. ¡°Hey, quick thing though. What happened to your lab coat?¡± ¡°What?¡± Reed blinked at him, embarrassment temporarily forgotten. ¡°What lab coat?¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re just in pants and teeshirt today. Where¡¯s the white coat?¡± Anesh clarified. Reed shook his head slowly, mouth slightly open, eyes narrowed. ¡°I have never once worn a lab coat, dude.¡± ¡°Huh. Weird. I always think of you as being in a lab coat.¡± ¡°Get out of my basement.¡± Reed grumbled, stalking off with a fresh red tinge on his neck. _____ The Alchemists called them, while James was in a van traveling to an office building he¡¯d long since stopped actually working at. Not him, personally. Karen. Recovery, really. Her department. They were handling it. No one had specifically kept him up to date, but he was following the conversation on their discussion server. The Alchemists had a problem. There was some kind of internal schism going on with them. A problem that had been brewing for a long time - James had gotten flat looks from the others in the vehicle when he¡¯d said that out loud - and had only just started to boil over. Euphrates, who had made the independent decision to sell out his colleagues, was confirmed dead, but they weren¡¯t talking about any other losses. But it looked pretty dire for them. From information the Order¡¯s rogues could piece together, based on the new contact from the Alchemists, they had made hidden enemies of a few specific CIA operatives. The kind that looked unrealistic when they got Hollywood movies made about them. They¡¯d been in some way coerced to resume work on the puppet potion, failed miserably, *realized what they were doing*, and had started tearing each other apart trying to find someone to blame or fight or bribe or anything. ¡°If they¡¯re gonna self-destruct¡­ uh¡­ let em?¡± Alanna suggested from the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Did try to kill you.¡± Arrush hissed at James from the back of the van. ¡°Twice.¡± ¡°*Technically*, it was only¡­ oh, wait, no. Twice.¡± James winced. ¡°Okay, fine.¡± El shifted in her seat, the thin blue line of fins from her infomorph companion spiraling around her shoulder as she moved to look over the center console at James. ¡°You seriously have too many enemies.¡± ¡°I do not! They aren¡¯t even my enemies!¡± He protested. ¡°They tried to kill you!¡± El shouted. ¡°Twice, apparently!¡± ¡°So did you!¡± James retaliated. ¡°You *shot me*!¡± Before the two of them could start arguing more, Arrush leaned forward slightly, chitin creaking under the pressure of his seatbelt, and pressed a pair of rough hands against their faces, pushing the two of them apart and back into their seats. ¡°Hush.¡± He rasped out at El. ¡°Okay, El¡¯s crap aside-¡° Alanna started. ¡°Hey!¡± She continued unabated. ¡°-is there any reason not to just let ¡®em burn out?¡± ¡°Do you want the tactical or the strategic reason?¡± James asked, shifting to a more serious tone. ¡°Hit me.¡± She said with a grin. He smiled out the windshield, watching the streetlights flash by as they rode down the highway toward the dungeon. He missed the orange lights of his childhood, but there was something harshly pure about the bright white bulbs that had been installed in the last few years. They went well with the freezing rain pattering on the windshield. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Tactically, we cannot let their tree of life or whatever fall into the hands of someone who might be worse than them. Also we just want it, in general. So, you know, base greed.¡± ¡°I like that one!¡± El perked up, and Arrush nodded with her. He understood the value of a material advantage. James rolled his eyes. ¡°Strategically¡­ guys, they¡¯re still people. They¡¯ve fucked up, and hurt a lot of people, and they¡¯re assholes. But who gives a shit? They aren¡¯t monsters, they¡¯re just wrong about a few things. They don¡¯t deserve to die. And, yeah, we could probably spend our resources helping people who need it more. But they¡¯re here, now, in our sights. And we can help. So we should help.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a ¡®strategy¡¯.¡± El made air quotes at him from the back seat. ¡°That¡¯s just you wanting to feel good!¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Arrush nodded next to her, triangular head bobbing subconsciously in time with Alanna¡¯s music. That was probably a bad sign. The agreeing with El part, not the part about music appreciation. ¡°Also!¡± El added, buoyed by her backseat companion¡¯s agreement. ¡°We know about a *bunch* of problems that aren¡¯t rich old guys having dug their own rich old guy graves! Let¡¯s solve those!¡± The van lurched slightly as Alanna pivoted them around a slow moving truck, making lane changes like she couldn¡¯t die. ¡°I mean¡­ El¡¯s got a point. Your strategy isn¡¯t exactly a strategy.¡± She told James with a sympathetic look. ¡°Alright, you want a game theory version?¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°Psh. Sure!¡± El chimed in. ¡°Oh El. Dear sweet Eleanor.¡± Alanna shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± James started talking, ignoring their snark. ¡°Okay, you wanna know why? Here¡¯s why. We live in a world where one person can acquire a kind of *horrifying* amount of power.¡± He paused briefly for effect. ¡°I¡¯m not just talking about us here, either, with dungeons and magic and stuff. But that *is* a problem, and it¡¯s only going to get worse. Bigger. But even mundane people can stockpile wealth, weapons, influence, anything. Hell, even just owning a car makes you a potential mass murderer.¡± He pointed at El. And then, trying not to let her notice, also slyly pointed out Alanna to the two passengers watching him from the back. Arrush hissed out a laugh that ended up a strangled noise as Alanna accelerated the van again slightly. ¡°The *good* news is,¡± James continued, ¡°no one really wants to be a mass murderer. People are only motivated to take extreme action, in general, by two things. Hate, or love. If someone hates strongly enough, they start looking for ways to destroy what they hate. If someone loves enough, they¡¯ll do the same to protect. Every other motivation tends to be kinda fragile. The optimal strategy in this game¡­ this whole *life* thing we¡¯ve got ourselves tangled up in¡­ is to maximize love. Not because it¡¯s sappy and warm and fuzzy and nice, but it *is* all those things. But so that all the eventual superpowered nightmares in our society have a vested interest in keeping us all alive.¡± Everyone went quiet as they processed that. And then Arrush spoke. ¡°Like you.¡± He rasped out. ¡°Like me.¡± James said softly. ¡°Like Alanna. Like you,¡± he pointed at El, ¡°and eventually, like *you too*.¡± He turned to point at Arrush. ¡°We¡¯re ahead. Not of everyone, no,¡± he preempted Alanna¡¯s grim reminder, ¡°but we¡¯re ahead of a lot of people in terms of magic. And with how the dungeons work, we¡¯re only going to get stronger. More dangerous.¡± ¡°Yeah, so, that brings us back to the Old Guys.¡± El said, leaning forward against her seatbelt, elbows on her knees. ¡°Man, they¡¯ve had all that ¡®dangerous stockpiled power¡¯ stuff for, what, twenty years? More? They¡¯re probably older than I am! And they did shit with it! Like, okay, you want the tree. That¡¯s cool, I¡¯m good with extorting the shit out of them. But we don¡¯t need to be nice to them.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about them.¡± James said with a shrug, feeling not a small bit of disappointment that El didn¡¯t quite get it. Arrush snapped his head up, eyes glittering with the reflected streetlights. ¡°Ah.¡± He hissed. ¡°It¡¯s us.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Wh¡­ we.¡± The ratroach still struggled to talk, and James felt a pang in his chest that they hadn¡¯t gotten him to just accept a skulljack yet, or figured out how to safely use the Shaper Substance. But Arrush took a massive breath, and pushed on. ¡°We need practice. With love.¡± He looked over at El. ¡°With being¡­ different. Than I have been. With¡­ protecting. They need¡­ practice¡­ being¡­ protected.¡± ¡°They¡­ the old guys?¡± El asked, rustling through her backpack and passing Arrush a bottle of water without even thinking about it. ¡°They don¡¯t need shit, though! They¡¯ve got their own¡­ oh.¡± She looked forward, meeting James¡¯ eyes in the rear view mirror. ¡°You want them on your team.¡± She said. ¡°Like, not just vaguely, huh? You want them, specifically.¡± Alanna started laughing. Barking a heavy, loud laugh that had a hard edge of respect behind it. ¡°Holy shit.¡± She said with a shark¡¯s smile on her face, wiping a tear out of her eye while she stayed focused on the road. ¡°They¡¯re a bunch of people with massive stockpiled power, in a few different forms, and none of it has kept them safe! They¡¯re at their absolutely lowest point right now, and you want to swoop in and save their asses! Holy shit!¡± ¡°I mean, yeah.¡± James said. ¡°Isn¡¯t that the point? We want *everyone* on our team. And that means¡­ well, that means we need to help everyone. We need to prove to them that our team isn¡¯t just viable, but that we¡¯re *the winners*. That at the end of this, *we walk out of here*, and that they can come with us.¡± He shrugged. ¡°And yeah, we need to be able to forgive some of the shittier things people have done before. And that won¡¯t be easy always. Because some of these guys are really, really awful.¡± He chuckled. ¡°But I believe in us. We can¡¯t just keep finding reasons why it¡¯s okay to hurt each other. We¡¯ve gotta make it stop somewhere.¡± ¡°Shit, now I believe in us too.¡± El threw herself back against the van¡¯s padded seat hard enough that the old plastic frame creaked. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯ve done this.¡± ¡°I already believed.¡± Arrush said, handing her back her empty water bottle with one of his smaller limbs. ¡°Of course you did, you¡¯re basically proof of concept.¡± El snorted. The ratroach froze slightly, tilting his head to look down at the girl next to him. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know what¡­¡± He started to hiss out, chest heaving. El, to her credit, *instantly* realized she¡¯d upset him somehow. ¡°Oh! It means, like, you¡¯re an example of the strategy working! It¡¯s not bad!¡± She backtracked rapidly. ¡°I think? James help, you know words!¡± ¡°No, yeah, that¡¯s it.¡± James said with an unseen nod. ¡°Also, good timing.¡± Alanna said as she took them off the highway. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± She pointed out the windshield at the multi-story office building, visible from the raised road they had just turned onto over the tops of the trees, a tiny portion of its lights still on. James just started double checking his pockets, while El made sure her backpack was zipped up everywhere. But Arrush had never seen it before; hell, Arrush had barely seen a lot of the outside before at all that wasn¡¯t one small town in Tennessee. The tall ratroach leaned across El to watch the building in the distance as the road led them on a looping half circle of right turns toward the parking lot¡¯s entrance. All five of his eyes held open as he took in the building. Part of his brain, the part that couldn¡¯t escape where he¡¯d come from, was sizing up an enemy. Ways in, ways out, how many foes or victims could a building of that size hold, if he¡¯d have to break bones to fit through any of the passageways. That kind of thing. But the new part of him was looking at something else. A solid, unyielding concrete spire with a few glittering points of light arrayed across it. And more than that, this was where his¡­ where the people he was learning to call friends¡­ came to find their power. Where they had traveled and fought and bled to secure the strength they had used to break him free of his old cycle. And now they shared it freely. Arrush¡¯s thoughts were broken as Alanna parked the van violently enough to toss him into the driver¡¯s seat ahead of him. ¡°Alright, kids! Let¡¯s get moving!¡± She declared. ¡°Ty¡¯s holding the door for us, let¡¯s move!¡± Everyone grinned as they piled out. More philosophy could wait for the trip home. For now, they had adventure and action ahead of them. James shattered the drama of the moment. ¡°Christ it¡¯s cold. Who allowed it to get this December?¡± ¡°Time?¡± Alanna said. ¡°Oh hey, are we doing a Christmas party this year?¡± ¡°Something like that!¡± He cheerfully said as he took the steps up to his former work. ¡°Come on! I¡¯m not sitting around out here! There¡¯s a dungeon waiting on us!¡± James called back. For different reasons, each of them smiled, and followed. Chapter 190 ¡°Strength does not make one capable of rule; it makes one capable of service.¡± -The Stormlight Archive- _____ Getting into the building had been an experience. James had forgotten that the company had gone back to an ¡®everyone in the building¡¯. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure why they had done that, since according to a profanity-laden email exchange with Theo, everyone had loved working from home and actual results were way up for everything except manufacturing. Because for obvious reasons you couldn¡¯t run a manufacturing line from an apartment. But the business he¡¯d worked for had never, in his opinion, been well run. And at this point, his opinion had an amount of weight; not only did he actually have a real business degree that he¡¯d worked for, but he also had much more practical experience with organizational leadership. And this was¡­ just a dumb call. All around. And yet, it was happening, and that meant when the two vehicles full of the skeleton crew they were delving with this week pulled up into the parking lot just before one AM, they found an asphalt expanse that wasn¡¯t as empty as James had gotten used to. ¡°Hm.¡± Alanna had said as they¡¯d pulled up to the front, watching the others pile out of their own car and start over to the van to grab their duffel bags. ¡°Fuck.¡± James had editorialized a bit, realizing that there were still going to be people working in the twenty-four-seven call center. He could practically feel Arrush tensing up in the back seat. ¡°Hey.¡± El said with a casual shrug. ¡°I¡¯ll hang out with you if you wanna wait in the car. It¡¯s like, what, a half hour, our time?¡± ¡°I mean the door doesn¡¯t open for a little, but something like that.¡± Alanna said. ¡°But are you sure¡­¡± Arrush cautiously tapped El on the shoulder. ¡°No.¡± The ratroach rasped out. ¡°No?¡± ¡°No.¡± He said again, nodding toward the building. ¡°I will¡­ live.¡± James raised his eyebrows a little, but mostly covered up surprise with a smile. He was about to say something, when there was a hammering on the back door of the van, and everyone in the vehicle except Alanna jumped. ¡°Oy! Open up!¡± Momo¡¯s voice came from outside. ¡°God dammit Momo.¡± James and El burst out at the same time. But it was halfhearted anger, at best, and El smirked at him as they moved to pile out of their van and get moving. It was cold out. Really cold, compared to the inside of the van with four people and a working heater. Two days to Christmas and December had decided that it was time to really buckle down and give a proper showing. A light, omnipresent layer of rain made the near freezing temperature feel that much worse, and the biting wind really drove the point home. None of them wanted to waste time, and Momo¡¯s rush to get them out of the van with their gear suddenly made more sense. Collectively, they grabbed their bags, trooped up the steps to the front, and funneled single file past their friendly security guard and into the lobby. Up an elevator in two batches of four, out onto a floor that was all at once familiar and alien. A place that James had once known, had been at so often he¡¯d grown a kind of bored contempt for it. Even when the dungeon stuff had started. But now that he wasn¡¯t supposed to actually be here, and there were humans in the building to catch him, there was a feeling of knowing where all the halls led, but being low-level unwelcome in them. Then they had to backtrack once, because the company had remodeled part of the building and one of the halls did not lead where James assumed. Then they spent around forty five minutes haunting the break room, waiting patiently for the window in which the Officium Mundi door was accessible. There weren¡¯t actually that many people here at this hour. Maybe three or four actual employees. But it was a bit of a fun moment when one of them walked into the break room, bought something from the vending machine, suddenly realized how many people were in here, caught sight of Arrush, and just kind of uttered a puzzled ¡®uh¡­¡¯ that trailed off to nothing before they almost sheepishly backed out of the room. ¡°It¡¯s normalization by context.¡± James explained as they counted down the last seconds to the door. ¡°Seven of us sitting around with one outlier? Anyone who sees that is going to have to question if either they¡¯re hallucinating something, or if this is just okay.¡± Arrush nodded, but still didn¡¯t get it. ¡°I kinda want to use this dungeon as an example.¡± Alanna said. ¡°But this is probably gonna be sorta normal for you? But check this out anyway.¡± She stepped forward first, and pushed open the door to another world. Grey, tan, and beige went to war over which color would dominate the landscape, and came out with a three way tie. Hard packed carpet, the kind that was technically not stone but still made feet ache if you walked on it, spread out from them in a flat sheet of unremarkable flooring. But then the ground became remarkable as it went on for forty feet. Eight. Two hundred. Stretching not just into a wide area, but into a landscape. Cubicle walls rose up, first in neat rows they you wouldn¡¯t be able to tell apart from a regular Earth office, then into twists and turns of a maze of halls and desks. And then, further on, into towering pieces of twisted architecture that looked half geometric, half organic. In the far distance, the horizon sloped upward. Cubicles and things pretending to be cubicles dotting the far off landscape like it was a cityscape viewed from a hill. No one had been able to verify if the dungeon kept sloping, kept wrapping itself around until it was a whole ringworld, or if the horizon effect was just a strange quirk of how viewing over distance worked here. But either way, it highlighted just how massive the space was. And before it all, jutting out of the carpet at a slightly tilted angle, lower walls half-buried in the floor, was a tower. It was obvious just from looking at the outside that it would be cramped; it was only the size of a three by three cubicle cluster, smashed together, and then stacked over and over on top of itself. It was the only spot in this whole place that the dungeon wouldn¡¯t shift, reclaim, or respawn things in when there wasn¡¯t a delver watching. And at its top, up two dozen sloped and wobbly cubicle wall ramps, was an arcane machine that could duplicate things. Honestly, it was kind of the most magical thing here, just on a raw power level. But it wasn¡¯t what James was here for tonight. ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s get set up, and get moving!¡± He cheerfully strode forward. Five other people followed him, moving with a familiar efficiency. This was the place where he felt comfortable. Not the stupid office building outside, that his Order would hopefully own soon if they could clear up their money situation. Not the mundane halls where he knew he wasn¡¯t welcome. No, James belonged here. Places like here. Exploring the artificial horizons. ¡°This place is enormous!¡± The high school intern they¡¯d brought along for this trip called from where they¡¯d stopped, jaw dropped, shortly after coming through the door. They were standing next to Arrush, who had an expression on his face that probably meant mostly the same thing, neck craned to look upward at the distant sight of the horizon. Anesh gave a chuckle from next to James¡¯ side. ¡°I¡¯ll give him five minutes to gawk, then I¡¯m reclaiming my lab assistant.¡± The student was part of the Order¡¯s plan to rotate new people in through safe dungeon exposure first, and for someone who wasn¡¯t even eighteen, that meant that the most dangerous exploration the new kid got to do was help run the duplication ritual. ¡°Good luck out there tonight!¡± He leaned in and shared a kiss with James, before slipping around his partner and landing a similar strike on Alanna. ¡°Have fun shattering the economy!¡± James called after Anesh as he and the others headed up the tower¡¯s internal ramp, carrying a small case with a deployable orange totem and another with as much platinum as Karen had been able to purchase on short notice. Momo and Alex had tagged along today, and James was pretty sure it was so they could argue about orb metaphors without anyone in the Lair interrupting them. Meanwhile, his crew was getting ready. El and Alanna were busy helping each other slip the increasingly personalized body armor that Order knights wore on, double checking their emergency supplies, and limbering up. And after he doubled back to nudge Arrush to come join them, James did the same, making sure to secure the well stocked medical kit in the pouch hanging from his own armor before he also got to loosening up his legs. Compared to the rest of them, Arrush¡¯s armor looked the most different. Not because he was a ratroach, but because they¡¯d switched what material supplier they used for their injection mould sometime after the first Winter¡¯s Climb delve. So all the replacement plates and segments of his heavily damaged custom fitted suit were a slightly different color, giving him a half-molted look. He looked slightly less imposing than he would have if he wasn¡¯t standing next to Alanna, who almost matched him in height, and El, who was balancing a knife on her palm and trying really hard to look like she wasn¡¯t as excited as everyone else. ¡°Alright.¡± James said with a soft clap of gloved hands. ¡°Let¡¯s see what¡¯s out there.¡± _____ It took six minutes for them to get into a fight with a potted plant. It started trying to choke El when everyone passed by. She reacted first with wide eyed panic, and then with a determined struggle to flip her knife open and slice the vine away from her throat. El got another two good furious stabs in on the plant that she felt personally vindictive toward before James noticed she was in trouble and cut it off at the base. It was a good start to the delve. _____ [+2 Skill Ranks : Program Use - Microsoft Word - Formatting - Headers] Arrush¡¯s first skill ranks were, as was tradition, largely useless. _____ The four of them emerged from a cramped hallway one at a time, spreading out to a semi-circle without really thinking about it. Overhead, thirty foot high spires of wall blocked out the distant ceiling lights, and small flashlights in the rigging on their armor illuminated the dark floor around them. And ahead, the floor dropped away, leaving only a few thin fuzz covered plywood squares as the bridge across a chasm. It had been quiet so far. They¡¯d been trying to show Arrush, and to an extent El as well, as many threats that they knew about before they were already a problem. Arrush had stayed tensed like a coiled spring the whole time, which was probably a fair reaction when they were showing him how to avoid setting off exploding coffee cups, or to identify signs of a large strider nest in the area. In contrast, El had *relaxed* when they¡¯d made it into the dungeon. Something both James and Alanna were silently finding funny as they pushed deeper, nudging each other and pointing out every time their companion casually grinned at something. They were aiming deeper today, because a couple people in Research wanted to continue testing a running theory that the deeper in you went, the higher the rewards scaled, in some way. And testing that was hard with normal weekly delves where they didn¡¯t always have a delver team that could be described as ¡®good at this¡¯. Not that members of the Order were bad at this. But more that, if pressed to assemble a four person squad with an eye toward maximizing effectiveness, it would be very easy to do worse than the four of them. This team was either confident or self-destructive enough to willingly try the more dangerous situations. ¡°We aren¡¯t actually going down there, right?¡± El asked, keeping a healthy distance from the edge. She was more focused on the hole than one the cracked cavern they found themselves in. ¡°Only a little bit!¡± Alanna answered, slinging her gear bag to the floor. ¡°Alright.¡± James spoke softly, everyone still on guard against making too much noise and sparking a horde. ¡°We¡¯re gonna go down two layers, and poke around there for a bit. Who wants to stay up and stand gu- El. Okay. Thank you for volunteering.¡± James gave an amused sigh at the girl waving her arm frantically. Next to her, Arrush cracked his mouth in a grin, the line of glowing blue saliva standing out sharply in the darkness. ¡°Okay. Alanna and I will go down. Haul us up if something goes wrong.¡± The knotted rope was tight in James¡¯ hands as he followed Alanna down into the dark without much more preamble. Sliding down slowly in short bursts as they made sure nothing was going to lunge out of the cliff face and try to eat them. About fifteen feet down, Alanna came to a stop. There was still more rope, but they weren¡¯t gonna drop all the way down to the lower floor right now. Instead, she reached out, keeping one firm hand on the rope, and grabbed the lip of the cubicle wall nearest to her, pulling them over to the wall. She had to half crawl through the breach. James just dropped down, the hard work already done, and landed next to her. They tied the rope off to one of the slits in the artificial cliff face, and looked in at where they¡¯d landed. It looked¡­ well, normal. Dark, obviously, there was no light James could see except their flashlights. But it was just a hallway of cubicles, with a particularly low ceiling. It reminded him of being in one of the towers. Layer upon layer, crushed against each other. They both had to stoop a little to not hit their heads on random juts of material, but Alanna had it worse than he did. Alanna¡¯s voice was a whisper. ¡°How far in?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s check the first few cubicles, before we commit to anything.¡± James whispered back. Something about this place made whispering feel appropriate. With a nod, Alanna moved forward first, James following, both of them casually palming the hatchets they had with them. The shorter weapons ideal for the cramped environment. The first cubicle was so flattened down, at a steep angle, that the only way in would be hacking apart a wall. Alanna stooped down to check inside, seeing similarly tilted furniture, a desk that had been crumpled by the ceiling above it and pushed partway through the floor. But no movement. They moved on. The next one was better, despite the square lump of floor that jutted up just in front of its door gap, making getting in an exercise in momentary claustrophobia as James squeezed through. It was just¡­ a normal cubicle. He checked to make sure the desk lamp wasn¡¯t going to detonate on him, and then started rifling through things. The filing cabinet was tilted over, and jammed shut, and probably had been for a while unless this whole area shifted frequently. Which was possible. And there wasn¡¯t a computer to mess with. But there were still drawers, and a coat hanging over the wheeled office chair that had slid down against the far wall from the mild slope. It stopped feeling like a normal cubicle when James checked the coat and found not just a wallet, but also an Australian passport. And then a wallet bulging with cash, and ten different licenses. Lucky, but not too weird yet. Of course, when he opened the desk drawer and found almost twenty neatly lined up bottles of high strength prescription antifungal medications, along with another tight roll of bills, he raised his eyebrows. The stapler on the desk - mundane, not alive - was also giving off a weird vibe. James poked at it, shifting it with his hatchet a couple times to make sure it wasn¡¯t a trap, before he reached out and grabbed it. Eventually, just to see what would happen, he depressed the mechanism down, and along with the chunk noise of a staple being deployed, felt a pulse ripple out from the stapler. And then back into his head, along with a weird vibe of where the nearest walls and obstacles were. Stapler based echolocation. Neat. He packed it into his bag. He paused, and ducked his head down to speak to Alanna who was watching the outside. ¡°Kind of a lot here.¡± He said. ¡°Like, a lot a lot. Weirdly a lot.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s check the next one.¡± She answered, and James moved to follow her onward. After grabbing the cash. Not the pills, though. He didn¡¯t want anything rattling in his pack while he had to run away from something with too many teeth. The next cubicle held just as much, including a small picture frame that Alanna told him she was pretty sure had a diamond mounted in it, and not the fake decorative kind. ¡°Why¡¯s it so quiet here?¡± James asked as they moved on. ¡°Because no one said anything that would curse us yet.¡± Alanna whispered back. They rapidly looted a few more cubicles, and moved on, until they got to an intersection. An intersection that held a vending machine that was half-collapsed through the floor underfoot, the way it was tilted blocking off forward access, but leaving the left and right paths open. They each pivoted a different direction, and James nearly screamed as something shadowy flitted away from the beam of his flashlight. Heart hammering, he groped behind him to tap on Alanna¡¯s arm, not wanting to look away. She wheeled around, their lights overlapping and bathing the corridor in their glow, but revealing nothing except for slanted floor and slightly crumpled walls, and a single knobby black cable snaked along the ceiling like a root. ¡°Nope. We¡¯re out.¡± Alanna declared, steering James with a hand on his shoulder toward the exit. He was loathe to break eye contact with the empty hall, but she was insistent, and so James turned back, planning to rush as best he could without running back to where they¡¯d come in. Instead, he came face to face with a puddle of matter that dropped down from the ceiling in front of him. It oozed against the floor like liquid, before snapping back to its own center, and rising up in front of James. Caught in the beam of his flashlight, it looked like a thousand rubber bands, squirming like worms, wrapped around some kind of dark dripping fluid that left a splotch on the floor where it had landed. It composed itself into something with four limbs and no body, each leg affixed the a point on the floor or a nearby wall. And then it seemed to notice that James was staring at it. And there was a metallic ratcheting *click*. And his flashlight went out. ¡°Alanna!¡± James yelled, at the same time he blindly swiped forward with his hatchet. A shudder ran up his arm as he felt the blade bite into something, and he yanked back, shifting his feet to deliver a kick to where he *suspected* the thing¡¯s center mass ones, just guessing from where the hit had landed. But he didn¡¯t connect, and his light swept back in to the space in front of him as whatever it was bounded away. Not just away. Up. It hadn¡¯t turned off his light, it had eaten it, and James instantly caught on and tracked it by where the light retreated slowest. It had climbed up into the ceiling, up onto one of those cable roots that punched through from the layer above. ¡°Where?¡± Alanna demanded. ¡°Up. Gone.¡± James pivoted around his partner as she swept the area he¡¯d just been standing in, pressing his back against hers. ¡°Go, let¡¯s go.¡± He found his teeth rattling; this was the first time in a while the dungeon had actually gotten to him like this. Alanna moved in short steps, and James followed, walking backward, doing his best to not trip her up with his own footsteps. And then, ten feet from the rope they¡¯d tied off, his light went out again. And James made a snap choice. ¡°Run!¡± He snapped at Alanna. And without hesitation, she listened, shooting forward in three increasingly long bounds, slamming through the small entrance they¡¯d come through and sending a chunk of cubicle wall tumbling over the edge into the chasm, and grabbing the rope on the way. She yelled something upward as she started climbing. James didn¡¯t hesitate, turning to follow and seeing his flashlight slide off the bubble of darkness as he turned, pushing his acceleration to the limit as he sprinted after her. Alanna was already climbing, but James realized he wouldn¡¯t have enough room if he jumped after her. They should have used *two* ropes, he thought, cursing their own shortsightedness. He made another snap decision, and dropped to a slide, letting his momentum carry him over the edge, and just past the very bottom end of the rope. He caught it in what he¡¯d likely pretend later was a casual move and not a terrified scramble to not fall to his death, pulling them out in a swing away from the cliff face just as the thing that had been chasing James leapt after them. The rubber band construct seemed confused as it lost contact with any nearby points, its limbs twitching and dripping whatever black goo it was holding inside itself, before rapidly snapping back and contracting it into a rough ball. It sailed under James feet, *way* too close for comfort, before crashing against the far wall of the chasm somewhere a hundred feet below them. ¡°Alright fuck this place!¡± James called, feeling the rope start to pull upward as El and Arrush hauled them up. His hands were shaking, and he didn¡¯t trust himself to climb after Alanna, who had already pulled herself over the edge. ¡°Let¡¯s come back with a flamethrower!¡± ¡°I have a flamethrower.¡± Arrush informed James as the ratroach helped him over the edge and settled him into a seated position with three of his arms. ¡°I¡­ what?¡± That information was a little too abrupt and abnormal, even for this situation, and it snapped James out of his adrenaline crash with a strange sense of curiosity. ¡°What? Seriously? How?¡± Arrush carefully reached into one of his armor pockets, and pulled out a small lighter. James raised an eyebrow at him as he took three attempts to spark a flame, and then held it there between them, with James tentatively waiting for it to explode or do something weird. Which was when El walked by, trailing the rope she was bundling up. ¡°Ar, that¡¯s a normal lighter. A flamethrower is that, except¡­ uh¡­ bigger? It¡¯s not that.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Arrush looked almost disappointed as he took his rough finger off the trigger and carefully replaced the device in his pocket. ¡°Am¡­ sorry.¡± ¡°You know what? Don¡¯t be. That helped more than arson anyway.¡± James said, taking a deep breath and smiling at the ratroach. ¡°Help me up. We¡¯ve got more to do tonight, and none of it involves going down again.¡± _____ [+1 Skill Rank : Athletics - Sport - Water Polo] [+1 Skill Rank : Operation - Wire Production Machinery - HS-P-9200] ¡°Dammit.¡± Alanna grumbled as El cheered over winning their little wager. Having gotten the dumber skill, she politely stepped back with a bow, allowing the younger woman to take point for the next few halls. _____ Four stories up a tower, with a backpack laden down with several bags of the mana enriched coffee grounds that ran the replication ritual, and a few dozen new yellow orbs, they encountered a tumblefeed. It was sleeping, or at least, not moving. But no one felt like throwing thermite in the enclosed space, so they quietly backed away, taking what they¡¯d gotten, and moving on. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. _____ They were a half kilometer from the carpet grass when the ambush hit. It was, by James¡¯ standards, not even in the top five of ambushes he¡¯d endured in his time delving. If he had the time, he would have written a professor¡¯s note to the creatures trying to kill them to see him after class. Not that it wasn¡¯t something that was a problem, but that he could see so many small ways it was destined to fail. A solid four out of ten. They were moving through one of those areas of low walls, two by two pods of cubicles where you could actually see everything for a couple hundred feet. There were some taller walls coming up, but beyond that, the carpet grass fields stretched on for miles, and there was a kind of eager excitement to see what was beyond one of the farthest points they¡¯d ever reached. The main thing to watch out for here were the traps. It felt open, like you could see everything, but there were triplines matched to the shifting patterns of carpet that could trigger pencil darts, exploding lamps, and those stupid pencil sharpeners that billowed out coarse particulate clouds of graphite. So they were moving slowly, and keeping a very sharp eye out. Well, James and Arrush were keeping a sharp eye out. The ratroach took to trap spotting like he¡¯d been doing it his whole life, which was another thought that caught James off guard as being secretly very sad. But while James was showing him how to carefully sneak up on desk lamps and disarm the traps into red orbs, El and Alanna were holding back, following their lead, and having idle conversation. ¡°So, when are we checking on the Alchemists?¡± El asked. Alanna shrugged. ¡°No idea.¡± She replied. ¡°When we hammer out an actual agreement, I guess? Might be a while.¡± ¡°Bah!¡± El snorted. ¡°Just feels like it¡¯s been a while. Also I want something to do that takes me out of the Lair.¡± Alanna gave her a sympathetic look. ¡°Your mom bothering you?¡± ¡°She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s my mom. I¡¯m required to love her.¡± El stated. ¡°That¡¯s not even close to true.¡± ¡°Well, I do anyway.¡± El shrugged. ¡°But yes she¡¯s also just the worst sometimes. She keeps asking when I¡¯m gonna try to get a raise.¡± ¡°Do you want a raise?¡± El thought about it. ¡°Kinda?¡± ¡°Hey James!¡± Alanna called up softly, causing James to freeze and wince from where he was laid prone underneath a desk, slowly reaching up toward a lamp, Arrush keeping a close eye from around the corner of the cubicle. When there was no answer to Alanna¡¯s call - and when Arrush hissed at her - she shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll ask when he¡¯s not busy. It should be fine.¡± ¡°Anyway, I still wanna help with shit. The Alchemist thing just seems kinda cool. And since the next Route exploration isn¡¯t until after we sort that out, I¡¯m spending a lot of time hiding from my mom.¡± El made eye contact with a stapler three rows away, perched on the edge of a wall, and gave it a politely nervous nod. The little creature staring back, before scuttling backward out of sight without any other reaction. ¡°It¡¯s not boring, but it feels like we¡¯re doing nothing. Aggressively.¡± ¡°Hurry up and wait, pretty much.¡± Alanna gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. ¡°And yeah, I get ya. I mean, it sucks, right?¡± ¡°It does! I feel guilty just doing this, and I hate it! If I¡¯m gonna feel guilty, I should at least do something to earn it.¡± El grumbled. Alanna laughed back, trying to keep it quiet. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not like we could do anything else. And this *does* help. Even if it just makes us stronger, at least we can use that when we are needed.¡± ¡°Yeah, maybe I can get another heart!¡± El said. Which was when James had chosen to slide out of the cubicle and flick the red orb he¡¯d extracted at Alanna¡¯s head in retribution for her interrupting, causing his partner to stick her tongue out at him as she knelt to grab it and put it in a pouch. ¡°How¡¯s the extra heart going, anyway?¡± He asked El. ¡°That seems like one of the most ¡®this could have some ramifications¡¯ purples that we¡¯ve ever gotten.¡± ¡°Oh, I feel pretty good!¡± She flexed her hand a few times. ¡°I think it¡¯s basically just blood doping, but all the time? Which is kinda fine.¡± ¡°There¡¯s not, like, long term problems there?¡± James asked. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be!¡± El cheerfully answered. ¡°Not as far as I looked it up, anyway.¡± ¡°¡­Did you not see a doctor?¡± James asked slowly El snorted. ¡°Dude, I don¡¯t have health insurance.¡± ¡°Yes you do! Everyone in the Order does!¡± James answered. ¡°Oh. Well, I forgot.¡± El looked defensive, trying to slide past them to keep moving. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go find adventure or something. You like adventure, right!¡± ¡°Go to a doctor!¡± James and Alanna said together. Even Arrush grumbled at El, folding his arms over his chest. He didn¡¯t know exactly why she¡¯d done something wrong, but if everyone was concerned for her, he would be too. Which was when he¡¯d noticed something. ¡°Being¡­ watched.¡± Arrush pointed out to James, and the whole group stopped making jokes in an instant, following the track of Arrush¡¯s eyes. There was a strider on a wall two rows over, staring at them. James didn¡¯t untense though when the girls did. They¡¯d seen striders and the electrically charged computer mice that someone had started calling ¡®volets¡¯ around all day, but none of them had engaged the team. This one, though, was different somehow. It was watching them. Not curiously, but directly. Like a predator, not just an observer. Alanna suddenly shifted. ¡°Oh.¡± She muttered. ¡°It¡¯s not feeling.¡± She said, realizing what her Empathy power was trying to tell her. This wasn¡¯t a piece of random wildlife, this was a *dungeon monster*. A clarification that was hard to make, but that was very important for this place. ¡°What now? Turn back, different path?¡± El suggested. ¡°Hm.¡± James thought. ¡°Look. Up ahead. Slowly. Near the floor of the cube on the right.¡± He gestured with a nod, trying not to draw attention to the gesture. Peeking out from the edge of the barrier, the corner of a white plastic computer case stuck out a half inch, the corners of a few cable limbs from the green orb version of a shellaxy also visible. ¡°They¡¯re waiting for us.¡± He said. ¡°Sooooo¡­ *different path* then?¡± El suggested again. ¡°I mean¡­¡± Alanna looked at El with an expression of excitement. ¡°Mmh.¡± Arrush growled acknowledgement. ¡°Oh, come on.¡± El rolled her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t make me the voice of reasons in this group. Please?¡± James smirked, unclipping the hatchet from his side, as Alanna tightened her grip on the sledgehammer she¡¯d brought along. ¡°Look, it¡¯s a perfectly normal ambush.¡± James said. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Ready.¡± Alanna sounded like she was actually ready. El just sounded resigned. Either way, when they dashed forward around the corner, and James toppled the first 2.0 that was lying in wait for them, the whole group moved together. On the other side of the hall, Alanna and Arrush swept the other cubicle, and James heard the crunch of plastic as his partner took out something similar to the writhing electronic creature he had pinned down. He raised his hatchet and brought it down as hard as he could on one of the non-curved spots of the shellaxy¡¯s surface, trying to keep the creature rotated so that the absurdly painful lasers it had mounted in its front case couldn¡¯t lash out at what parts of his own skin were exposed. One hit, then another, the second one slipping off, and then a third before he had a good crack along its casing. James shifted his gloved hand, yanked back the plastic armor, and got a half-strength swing buried into the internals of the computer before its thrashing geometric cable legs dragged it away from him, almost yanking the axe out of his hand. While he pursued, he noticed El moving past him, flinging a small form against the wall, and working with sharp kicks and throws to deal with the small cluster of striders that had poured over the wall as James had engaged the computer. He lunged forward from his crouch, dropped a knee onto the tipped over wounded monster before it could right itself, and let his weight cause more damage. It dinged furious screaming error messages at him, setting small fires on the hard carpet with its lasers while it tried to fight back, until James hit it a few more times and it finally went silent. To solidify the kill, a green orb popped into existence, half buried inside the shattered case. From the other cubicle, Alanna called out an all clear, and after helping a struggling El grab a strider that was trying to climb up her back and smashing the stapler into the nearest desk a few times, James did too. El was shaking out her hand, trying to somehow banish the bruise from where a strider had tried to bite through her glove through sheer force of will, stepping back from the scattered bits of smashed chitin from the group that had been lying in wait for them, when another actual ambush hit. James rated this ambush much higher than the first one. Mostly because it included a paper pusher, and was therefore immediately more dangerous, but also because it had waited until the group had dropped their guard in thinking the fight was over. The paper pusher leapt over the low wall, the false arms of its suit shifted forward like it was running on all fours, followed by another of its kind. They slammed into James from where he was still crouched, sending him sprawling back into the closest wall with a hollow thunk as his head hit the thin surface. One of them had pounced on El, and was dragging her down, while the other had run out the door of the cubicle. James coughed, trying to drag himself up as he struggled to recover from having the air knocked out of his lungs. The inhumanly blank face of the paper pusher staring down at El with a complete lack of concern as she frantically tried to stab it, rolling rapidly to avoid letting it get a grip on her. These ones were obviously of the stronger style, probably green orbs themselves, and James needed to move if he was going to help her. But Arrush got to it before he could. The ratroach coming over the cubicle wall from next to them, springing off a desk and clearing the low barrier without consideration. He crashed into the paper pusher on top of El, at the same time that James got his feet under himself. When the stuffed shirt rotated an arm ninety degrees in its shoulder socket to snatch the wrist of Arrush¡¯s arm that was currently holding a weapon, the ratroach didn¡¯t hesitate, instead just widely opening his mouth and heaving a glob of glowing vomit onto the creature. Arrush¡¯s internal fluids were¡­ significantly more acidic than a human¡¯s. Against the dragon, in Winter¡¯s Climb, he¡¯d been able to soften up stone to the point that he could pulverize it with his fists. Against something that was technically made of paper? The stuffed shirt went limp in seconds, corrosion eating it away, its grips on El and Arrush dropping to nothing as it slumped forward, body caving in as the dust inside it turned into a slurry. Without hesitation, James swung around the cubicle door to where Alanna was currently in a fistfight with their other ambusher, her sledgehammer abandoned somewhere. It wasn¡¯t facing James, and so he grabbed it by the neck, and executed the most aggressive judo throw he knew how to do. Which was absolutely not what you were supposed to do in competitive judo, but when disabling your opponent meant decapitating them, James figured being sporting about it was off the table. ¡°Haooo¡­¡± He stopped trying to talk, sucking in a breath, then another, before he looked around at their group. ¡°Hokay. Any more?¡± He asked. ¡°You¡¯re never allowed to walk us into ambushes again!¡± El yelled, way too loudly, from where Arrush was helping her up. ¡°Sssorry.¡± The ratroach spoke wetly, wiping at his mouth. ¡°Why?¡± El asked without thinking. ¡°Sssuposed to¡­ be¡­ learning to¡­ fight. Better.¡± Arrush rasped out. James and Alanna shared a look with each other, then glanced over at the taller kid. ¡°Uh, no.¡± James said with an approving nod. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be learning how to fight without breaking your own arms. How¡¯re your arms?¡± ¡°...Fine¡­¡± Arrush admitted. ¡°Great. Good job.¡± James leaned over and patted him on the armored shell of his back. ¡°Someone grab the orbs, let¡¯s get out of here. I need to find a place to sit down for a while that isn¡¯t prone to being randomly attacked.¡± _____ [+2 Skill Ranks : Government - Democracy] It was a simple shift, but the growing knowledge base and the utter confidence in its accurate nature that you could get with skill orbs was a huge help to James. It was something he¡¯d spent a while mulling over now, and every orb like this helped push him more toward solidifying where he wanted the Order to start their governing principles off. _____ They found a dozen small magic items, a lot of them converted to blue orbs just for portability. Not everything could change the world, and sometimes you just didn¡¯t need a pen that automatically corrected which ¡®your¡¯ you were using. But sometimes you found a coat that made you feel stronger when you wore it. Sometimes you found a folded birthday card on the edge of a desk that let you see how your closest loved one was doing right now. James didn¡¯t touch that one, for romantic reasons. Sometimes you made space for the lunchbox that felt like electrified salt, whose purpose you couldn¡¯t determine. They found the space in their packs that they needed, and moved on. _____ ¡°You know what¡¯s nice about dungeon time?¡± James asked. The four of them were sitting on top of overly sized desks that jutted out of the ground like rock outcroppings. The carpet beneath them flowed in waves, an artificial breeze from distance air conditioner units making the massive strands of grey fabric sway like wheat. James was on one desk, laying on his stomach so he could hold himself up on the slanted wood surface with his arms, watching the grass below them. On another, flatter desk nearby, El and Alanna knelt with their legs pulled in as far as they could get them, while twenty feet away, Arrush perched on the corner of one of the pieces of furnished terrain where it stuck up into the air like a spire. Below them, something shaped like an automated carpet cleaner left furrows in the material as it circled their position. The chrome shelled beetle-like creature having almost taken El¡¯s leg off when it had surprised them, but unable to fly or climb, was left to simply bump into their perches until it tired of the hunt. James didn¡¯t like these things, and not just because they seemed to primarily feed on the porcupine like lamp dogs that roamed these plains in packs. The lamp dogs, with their quilled coats, seemed cool. He wanted to see if he could feed one of them and make friends, but these damn cleaners kept chewing through them with their low to the ground industrial grinder of a mouth. ¡°What¡¯s great about dungeon time?¡± Alanna called back, calm in the face of a murderous and armored opponent. The oversized roomba hummed by James¡¯ desk, and he tightened his grip on the forty five degree angle. Not worried, just¡­ now would be a bad time to slip. ¡°It gives you so much time to think about things!¡± He said with a smile in his voice. ¡°All this extra time to relax, and process stuff! It¡¯s nice. I like this.¡± ¡°You like¡­ *this*... sp¡­spp¡­ specifically?¡± Arrush wetly hissed out, the words taking more force than he was used to in order to be heard over the distant fans. Even still, the disbelief was still there. Arrush came from a place of constant violence and constant fear, but there, the fear was of the people around you, and the violence came from them too. There was never a point when he¡¯d found himself simply *waiting*, while something that wanted to kill him was a meter away and hoping he¡¯d fall before it got bored. He¡¯d gotten bored faster than he¡¯d expected to. Living with the Order had, perhaps, spoiled him. Softened his mind somewhat. To distract himself, Arrush had begun trying to pry open the desk drawer within his reach, and upon success, and revealed a colony of iLepedes. They¡¯d shied back from the light, except for one, that had curiously investigated. That one was sitting on Arrush¡¯s arm now, as he idly stroked it with his rough fingers. ¡°Don¡¯t engage with him!¡± El choked off the drink of water she was taking, splashing a quarter of her bottle to the floor as she waved it frantically, to shout over at the ratroach. ¡°Lua taught me this! You don¡¯t engage with bullies!¡± ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± James said. ¡°This is nice! Like, how often do we just use the dungeon to *sit*, you know?¡± ¡°Why would we do that?¡± Alanna and El said at the same time, the differences in their voices giving the words a very human echo. Alanna twisted from her seated position to try to high five El, but the other girl had zero interest in that, and instead kept her eyes on the ground. James persisted in his attempt to kill some time. ¡°No, but really, think about it. I mean, I get that there¡¯s treasure and stuff here, and we¡¯ve gotten some good stuff so far, but how nice is it to just have this extra time to let your brain chew on the Alchemist thing? They get three minutes to decide if they want to accept our terms and conditions, but we get *eight hours* to relax and process it. Or, like, how we can¡¯t seem to ever get into the news no matter how many times we teleport in public? That¡¯s concerning! But here, we get whole extra relaxed days to consider it! We should have been abusing this a lot more!¡± ¡°He thinks this is relaxing.¡± El said to Alanna in a disbelieving voice. ¡°Your boyfriend is relaxed.¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s paraphrasing Tremors.¡± Alanna said back. ¡°The good one. The one with Kevin Bacon.¡± She leaned back into El, taking a deep breath. ¡°How long do we have left here anyway?¡± El checked her watch. ¡°Hour ten. We gotta go, we can¡¯t just sit here for a week while Zoomer down there waits to eat our feet.¡± ¡°I could¡­ distract it.¡± Arrush offered in his slow voice, taking his time and deep breaths to speak to them as he looked up from the friendly iLepede. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Alanna said. ¡°We can just shoot it if we actually need to. Even if it¡¯s loud, that¡¯s still an option. But you¡¯re not bait, stop doing that.¡± Alanna left out that the thing had already just shrugged off getting nailed by a sledgehammer, so shooting it *might* not actually do anything. Arrush made a noise like he was going to apologize, when James shouted something, ruining Alanna¡¯s point about noise. ¡°Hey. Hey!¡± They glanced over, and saw James pulling himself up on his desk so he could wave frantically with his free arm, bracing himself so he could flail around. Following what he was looking at, it became clear quickly. There was a small pack of those lamp dog things, the ones with coats of razor pointed pencils, digging their own low furrows through the tall carpet maybe a hundred feet away. ¡°Don¡¯t get their attention!¡± El hissed at James, just barely heard over the rustling in the breeze and James¡¯ own yelling. ¡°No, he¡¯s trying to warn them off.¡± Alanna said suddenly. ¡°Because¡­ yup!¡± She hopped off the desk, drawing a flinch from El. ¡°Roomba¡¯s gone! Let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°Run, dogs!¡± James yelled. Because running was about their only good option right now, just like it was for the delvers. He let go of his desk and let gravity slide him down to the floor, landing in the soft packed down carpet at the same time as Arrush. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here!¡± He pointed back the way they came, and everyone started moving in one of the few ways that you didn¡¯t normally get to, in *any* dungeon. A full sprint. The carpet tugged at their legs as they retraced their trail back out of this biome. If they hadn¡¯t had a semi-clear path out, this would have been a terrible idea, but as it stood, it was still dangerous, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. The carpet plains were riddled with small pitfalls, sometimes used as burrows and dens of small creatures, sometimes more like actual pit traps, lined with jagged scissor blades. Or smaller desk or table surfaces that just barely jutted out of the floor, solid tripping hazards at any speed above a careful walk. And while they could look peaceful, the tall carpet hid a lot of dangerous life that didn¡¯t have much interest in making friends. Maul carts cut game trails through the area, and paper pushers in more animalistic form lay in wait at weird places. The four of them had cleared a lot of threats on the way in, and while they¡¯d ended up pinned down for a good half hour or so and ultimately decided to turn back instead of progressing deeper and just telepad warping out when they ran up against the time limit, they¡¯d found some treasures here as well. A briefcase that instructed them to pick up a specific form from somewhere. A laptop power cable that seemed to also act as a high capacity battery, or else was drawing power from nowhere. A dozen small dungeon programs that were stored on the USB sticks that James always brought along - one of them measured whatever you typed in, which was exactly as silly as it sounded, but James suspected there was a way to break this. A binder full of gibberish reports and forms that endlessly respawned the pages - it was no Pony Things, in terms of entertainment value, but another infinite paper source couldn¡¯t hurt. And most importantly, on the way out, they passed by the Decision Tree that they¡¯d discovered out here. The monitor lizards in it, little shards of glittering LED screens in the shape of geckos, stood in neat rows upon the branches. This decision tree was a half dozen shades of grey, its branches much more orderly than the others they¡¯d found. And it liked them. Or at least, it liked El. It wasn¡¯t clear why, but the monitor lizards had agreed to a trade of orbs at a far, far more favorable rate with El than with anyone else. She waved to it as they passed, with as much of a cheerful laugh as a person could muster when they were doing their best to clear the zone of a hungry mechanized beast. Which was, James realized as he found himself laughing along, surprisingly a lot. _____ [+1 Skill Rank : Medical - Physical Therapy - Leg] [+1 Skill Rank : Cooking - Spice Balance] [+1 Skill Rank : Reading Comprehension - Statistics - Sociological] Arrush¡¯s next few skills, as the number of staplers and post-it note masks that tried to kill them mounted up, were much more useful. [+1 Skill Rank : Templating - Advertisement - Grocery Store - Berlin] Mostly. _____ They made it back, not wasting any time looting or exploring and instead just tracing a straight line over their route in, with fifteen minutes to spare. That is to say, fifteen minutes past their normal buffer of time, to make absolutely sure no one got trapped in here. That time got eaten up faster than relatively newer delvers like El or Arrush would have expected, as they all stripped off and stowed armor, replaced gear, made notes on how many bandages and packets of burn ointment they used up, and handed off some of their loot for a last minute duplication run. ¡°How were things tonight?¡± James asked Anesh as his boyfriend hustled down to the base of the tower where everyone else was waiting with the last duplicated case. ¡°Good. Good! We¡¯ve got¡­ uh six hundred thousand dollars worth of platinum in the compressed space that Alex is carrying? So that¡¯s cool.¡± Anesh said it with a kind of deep economic panic in his voice. ¡°Jesus what?¡± El choked. Alanna glanced over at her. ¡°Wait, did you not¡­ get that this was why we came in tonight, mostly?¡± ¡°No!¡± El looked shocked. ¡°I thought we were here for the magic and stuff!¡± ¡°Well yeah, we¡¯re always here for the magic and stuff.¡± James told her. ¡°Don¡¯t let Alanna mislead you. But also, we had ten ounces of platinum, and an orange totem so we can break the size limit of the copy ritual. So, you know. Power of two, right? It doesn¡¯t take that many duplications to make a truly absurd number.¡± ¡°That¡¯s so much money!¡± ¡°El, I¡¯m really sorry to tell you this, but you are absolutely right, and we could still use all of it in a month and still find something to do with more.¡± James told her. He sighed, the logistics skill ranks he¡¯d been given doing a great job of telling him just how much of a drop in the bucket this was. ¡°And it still might not be the most valuable thing we can copy. But we can talk about this later. Right now, Anesh?¡± ¡°Here!¡± Anesh cracked open the box he¡¯d brought down. The product of the extra coffee grounds and the stack of purple orbs they¡¯d brought back. Because at this point, there was no way in hell they would ever use a purple orb without copying it at least once first. They¡¯d brought back thirty six purples, the result of saving most of their yellow orbs just in case they found a decision tree. And Anesh had rapidly labeled them, crammed all of them into one of the special cases they used to copy stuff, filled the empty space with whatever was lying around, and run off a duplicate. And now, everyone took turns to grab a few, dividing them up and making the first test of what could be their next cure for cancer in the twenty minutes before they needed to leave the dungeon. There was only one problem, which James noticed and corrected for as soon as he did. ¡°Here.¡± He said, pressing five purple orbs into one of Arrush¡¯s paws. The ratroach took a wheezing breath and cracked his muzzle to say something, but James just shoved the orbs against his grip even tighter and stepped back. ¡°You did the work, you get the magic! Those are the rules!¡± He said. ¡°You earned it. Enjoy it.¡± And then he took his own advice. [Shell Upgraded : Bioluminescense - Dermal - +3 Lumens] [Shell Upgraded : Elasticity - Bone - Femur - +2 degree] [Shell Upgraded : Warts - -16/Month] [Shell Upgraded : White Blood Cell Count - +1,400/liter] [Shell Upgraded : Nutrient Processing - Upper Bound - Vitamin C - +44 Grams/Day] ¡°My quest to finally have bones no one can break continues.¡± James muttered to himself triumphantly. ¡°Wait, how much vitamin C does a person need anyway?¡± He took the offered clipboard from his boyfriend and wrote down his results, before looking up at everyone else. ¡°Anyone get anything good?¡± ¡°I now fall slower?¡± Alanna said. ¡°Which, like, okay, cool. But do you ever feel like sometimes these just change our bodies, and sometimes they change¡­ uh¡­ Anesh what¡¯s that thing that causes masses to attract to each other?¡± ¡°Gravity?¡± Anesh looked confused, not realizing yet that Alanna was joking. His face turned from confused to exasperated as Alanna nodded gleefully. ¡°Yeah! That!¡± ¡°Well, I got tolerance for sour flavors and less back pain, so I¡¯m not gonna complain.¡± Anesh said, not pressing on the gravity quip. ¡°Anyone else want to share?¡± ¡°Hey what¡¯s proprioception?¡± Alex asked. ¡°I *know* I¡¯ve heard Deb say it, but I don¡¯t know what it is.¡± ¡°It¡¯s your ability to know where your body is without seeing it.¡± James said as he started pacing a little near the edge of where the group was standing, getting eager to get moving. ¡°Why, did you get something that makes it stronger?¡± ¡°Kinda? I got a thing that lets me extend it to things I¡¯m holding?¡± James froze, turning along with everyone else to look at Alex. ¡°Uh¡­¡± He said slowly. ¡°Yeah, okay, that¡¯s¡­ wow, you¡¯re gonna have to tell me how driving feels now.¡± He said. El chimed in instantly. ¡°Also don¡¯t just tell me, give me a copy of that! That sounds awesome!¡± ¡°Anyway, anyone else got anything good? Momo? Momo¡¯s shaking her head, Momo got something embarrassing, okay, fun. Arrush?¡± James paused, seeing the ratroach standing still, staring at his hand that had just held the purple orbs. It looked like he was struggling to breathe. ¡°Arrush, you okay?¡± The tall figure held up two of his hands, another one clutching at his chest, before he straightened his back, and gasped, sucking in a deep breath of air that swelled his chest, the loose hoodie he had taken to wearing straining against his body. And then, he spoke. Voice still rasping, but steady. ¡°Accelerated lung growth. And I¡­¡± He paused and stared at his arms, triangular head cocked downward at a sharp angle to focus his mismatched eyes on his own limbs. ¡°It took away the pain. These arms do not hurt.¡± Anesh stepped closer, and quietly got Arrush to repeat what he¡¯d been given. And it quickly became even more clear that purple orbs changed from species to species. [Shell Upgraded : Lung Capacity - Growth - +1.2 Liters/Month] [Shell Upgraded : Fang Regeneration - +12% Faster] [Shell Upgraded : Nerve Control - Left Arms - +/- 117,200 Signals] [Shell Upgraded : Taste Range - Growth - +.1 Sensation/Year] [Shell Upgraded : Jump Height - Vertical - +3.8 Feet] Okay. Sort of changed from species to species. That last one was typical purple orb bullshit all the way through. Anesh and Momo instantly started a quiet conversation about testing purple orbs against different species, and wondering how far the differences would go. They¡¯d never pushed it with the camraconda or other dungeon life that didn¡¯t want to risk more of Officium Mundi¡¯s notice. But here, the changes stood out as being just different enough that there was the possibility for a strange future ahead of them. James, of course, focused on the most important part of this discovery. Giving Arrush¡¯s antenna a friendly ruffle and getting a shake of the head from the taller ratroach, he cracked a grin. ¡°Okay! So, you can taste stuff better now! This is very important!¡± ¡°Why?¡± Arrush asked instantly, all of his misaligned eyes narrowing mostly in unison. ¡°Oh right.¡± Four other people all said at the same time. ¡°Because,¡± James said, ¡°and to be absolutely clear, you are allowed to decline this invitation, but there is one very important part of the ritual of these delves, that we haven¡¯t gotten to yet.¡± His smile was infectious, for everyone except Arrush and the new kid who had no idea what was going on. ¡°And since apparently you couldn¡¯t taste things like us this whole time, it¡¯ll be even more interested to see if you like pancakes.¡± Chapter 191 ¡°I have dreams about being a sturdy old robot, and I¡¯m being rebuilt, but the new parts are plastic and cheap and flimsy. And I¡¯m obsolete before I¡¯m even off the assembly line. Then I wake up.¡± -Night Physics, Dramamine- _____ Something about sitting around in a suit made James feel like talking about high minded things. Like he should be mingling at an academic conference and discussing things he effectively had a college major in. Like cryptography, or constitutional law, or artillery fire. Maybe not that last one. Something else about sitting around in a suit made him uncomfortable. Because he didn¡¯t actually like suits. Even this one, which was even sized properly for him unlike what he¡¯d worn to every family holiday dinner for most of his life, still tugged at his neck and felt unfamiliar against his skin. Which put a damper on how excited he could be to get into the weeds on weird topics. Not a *lot*, obviously; his personality was still intact. But just a little. Currently, James was sitting in the Lair¡¯s dining area, though he wasn¡¯t eating anything. Unlike the two copies of Anesh sitting with him, who *didn¡¯t* have a lunch meeting coming up, and one of whom also apparently hadn¡¯t slept or eaten since they¡¯d gone into the Office last night. There was an unpleasant, soggy grey light coming in from the high reinforced windows of the room, and the battering sound of rain that seemed determined to emulate a siege hammering against those panes. It was not even one PM, and it had the feeling like it was going to get dark soon. James hoped Utah would be better climate, but knew in his heart - and because he had checked his phone for the weather - that it wouldn¡¯t. Despite the weather, and the suit, and the fact that his boyfriend was fending off his attempts to snag croutons out of his salad, James was still actually engaged in a conversation that was gradually drawing people in from the surrounding tables. ¡°I thought you said you were good at democracy.¡± Jake Redding, their lawyer and newest aspirant folded his arms over the back of his chair as he turned away from the half foot tall stack of paperwork he was going over to verify whether or not the potion people had legal status, to interject into James¡¯ conversation. ¡°You said you had a degree in political science.¡± ¡°No, I said I *basically* had a degree in¡­ look, it¡¯s a dungeon thing.¡± James said, a little defensively. ¡°Ah. Skorbs.¡± Redding sighed. ¡°Obviously not good enough, since you¡¯re proposing a system that creates perverse incentives.¡± He fired over. He wobbled his hand in a gesture of mild agreement. ¡°Sort of? I mean, I want a system where getting elected *is* a good way to get power, but a bad idea for anyone who¡¯s greedy, because I want it to come with the baked in responsibility to actually use that power.¡± James said. ¡°Like, you shouldn¡¯t need to already have power to get elected; either wealth or magic or whatever. But once you are elected¡­ I mean, everyone wants their leaders to be competent, right? And we can just¡­ uh¡­ make that happen. We¡¯ve got skill orbs we can curate, at the *very* least. We¡¯ve got Sewer books. We¡¯ve got actual reliable magic spells from the Climb. Like, if someone gets elected, we can make sure they have the tools to do the job. We just have to make sure there¡¯s failsafes on actually doing the job and not just running off.¡± ¡°You are describing a technocracy. But with magic. A technocracymancy.¡± Alanna told him as she added herself to their table, only catching the back half of what James was saying. Redding stood and pivoted his chair, not moving to their table but definitely adding himself to the conversation. ¡°He¡¯s not even describing that,¡± he said, taking a pull from the beer he¡¯d liberated from the kitchen¡¯s supply. ¡°He¡¯s actually just describing a technocracy. A famously terrible form of government, that¡¯s more than a little incompatible with democratic ideals.¡± ¡°Technocracies are science fiction.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said, the camraconda coiling in on himself from the bean bag he was in to add his own comment. ¡°Technocracies are¡­ very real.¡± The lawyer replied, only pausing briefly to adjust to speaking to a camraconda. He¡¯d been here a few months, but he was still getting used to the existence of other species. ¡°It¡¯s entirely reasonable to call the Soviet Union a technocracy during parts of its existence.¡± The high school senior who had been tutoring Knife-In-Fangs in algebra also joined in. ¡°Wait, I thought they were communist?¡± ¡°We¡¯re getting off track!¡± James declared, using the distraction of the declaration to take another snipe at Anesh¡¯s salad, continuing when he missed. ¡°The point is that a technocracy has qualification as a¡­ uh¡­ qualification. I¡¯m not talking about that, I¡¯m talking about equipping elected officials properly. Because we can do that.¡± ¡°No, the *point* is that we can¡¯t even scratch the surface of demand for one single type of orb.¡± Alanna jumped in. ¡°We¡¯re barely keeping up with *paying* everyone, and you want to - yes Anesh I know about the platinum - and you want to add *another* orb to the pile? Or, like, fifty?¡± Redding cleared his throat. ¡°What¡¯s this about platinum? Because if you¡¯re finally using the teleporters to rob banks, I should know so I can begin preparing a legal defense for your inevitable trial.¡± ¡°Replicator.¡± Knife-In-Fangs provided simply. ¡°Also science fiction.¡± ¡°Right.¡± The lawyer sighed. ¡°Yep. About what I expected. Carry on. But also be aware that metal like platinum requires some stricter documentation to sell.¡± James was undeterred. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be a giant problem, but we can find a way to make this work. Especially if we can start from scratch in our own place. I¡¯m not saying we only elect experts, I¡¯m saying we make sure everyone who gets elected is an expert.¡± ¡°Again, that is just straight up technocracy.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°Jake *just* covered this. Do you know what a technocracy is? I¡¯m actually asking, not trying to be an asshole.¡± ¡°No no! You don¡¯t need to already be an expert to get elected! That¡¯s the beauty of it!¡± James retorted. ¡°We can *make* you an expert!¡± Anesh had a thousand yard stare as he looked down into his food, eyes unfocused. ¡°Oooooh boy, some people are gonna try to kill us for this.¡± ¡°What, for *this*?¡± James scoffed. ¡°Among other things.¡± Anesh added. ¡°Can I ask a question?¡± The math tutor raised her hand while Anesh was busy falling into existential dread. James grinned. ¡°Always.¡± He said. ¡°Okay, so¡­¡± The girl looked kind of embarrassed. ¡°If I want to skip a class, could I just get elected to something that you hand me an orb for, and then¡­ I dunno, take a test or something? Do you even need to go to class, in this¡­ uh¡­ science fiction world?¡± ¡°No, arcologies are not science fiction.¡± Knife-In-Fangs politely corrected her. ¡°Kind of a good question though.¡± James admitted. ¡°I¡¯m actually not sure! Classes and school would probably still be useful though? Just to have fewer points of failure, and also, you know, something fun to do. Also, Anesh, did you have some theory about the yellows all being the same or something?¡± His boyfriend continued to observe the imagined event horizon of his salad with a distant stare. ¡°Uh, yeah. That¡¯s hard to verify, but at least for copies, it really seems like your get literally the same information.¡± ¡°Good reason for classes right there.¡± Redding pointed out. ¡°That¡¯s stagnation. You don¡¯t want every leader to be the same, that¡¯s how you get a stale society. I assume. I should look that up, I¡¯m sure someone¡¯s done a study on it.¡± He turned back and flipped open his laptop, effectively banishing himself from the conversation. ¡°I say this, knowing my track record on the subject.¡± Alanna started. ¡°But. What about skulljacks?¡± James glanced at her with a ¡®go on¡¯ kind of look on his face; raised eyebrows and pursed lips. ¡°Well, we can share memory files already. Why not just use them to teach? Hell, you can even teach stuff derived from orbs, because you¡¯re still getting someone¡¯s personal context and take on it, right?¡± She shrugged. ¡°It kinda a gets you what you want, but without the resource cost.¡± ¡°Wait, is this just a resource thing for you?¡± James asked. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna accuse me of technocracy, too?¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you an anarchist?¡± ¡°I could be an anarchist who is very bad at designing government systems.¡± James said flatly. ¡°I can be bad at a *lot* of things.¡± ¡°Okay, well, using dungeon goodies to solve social problems like lack of expertise *is* basically a technocrat thing to do, I¡¯m not gonna lie to you.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°But, like, we use technology to solve problems all the time? So, like, fuck it, I guess? Have a democratic process all down through every layer of life, make participation seamless to daily life but also mandatory for membership in society, and don¡¯t just trust social pressure to weed out bad faith actors. Easy.¡± James looked at her, trying to hold the small happy laugh inside his chest. ¡°Okay, so, first off, I love you.¡± He said with a smile. ¡°But also, you *did* basically just describe the problem, you know?¡± ¡°James, you want to build a city. And everyone believes you can, because the casual assurance that you *can* eventually build up enough power to do it with the dungeons in play is *completely accurate*.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°Every fucking week around here, we see stuff go from being impossible, to being an obstacle, to being solved. And yeah, actually changing a current system into what you want would be basically impossible, but that¡¯s not really what we¡¯re talking about, is it? You basically want to start your own¡­ nation? Country? I don¡¯t even know the word, I used up all my good words on the democracy thing.¡± ¡°¡­Territory?¡± James offered tentatively. He hadn¡¯t thought of this part. ¡°Territory sounds a little too clinical.¡± Anesh added. ¡°Unincorporated township?¡± One of the support group members, a guy James recognized as one of the kids who lived under Clutter Ascent but he couldn¡¯t place a name to, who was listening in from their table on the other side of Anesh chimed in. The Response member who was sitting with him also perked up. ¡°Oh, like a vacation town!¡± Matt added, cracking his knuckles. ¡°What about ¡®province¡¯?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re going that route, just say city-state. Oh, state! Duh.¡± Anesh snapped his fingers. ¡°I¡¯m being mocked.¡± James muttered, sinking down in his chair. His suit jacket rumpling around his neck and up over his chin as he sulked with an intentional dramatic flare. ¡°This is mockery.¡± Alanna looked around with a gleeful expression. ¡°Is there anyone else we can get in on this mockery?¡± She asked rhetorically. Because she¡¯d already spied the next two people who were approaching their table. ¡°Jeanne! What-¡° ¡°I¡¯m really sorry,¡± the normally friendly woman had an exhausted look as she cut Alanna off, leading her daughter into the room. ¡°I¡¯ve got a job interview on short notice, and I wanted to see if you could keep an eye on Ava for a couple hours?¡± She motioned to her daughter, the preteen looking *decidedly* unhappy to have an eye kept on her. ¡°Oh, sure.¡± Alanna agreed easily. ¡°I¡¯ve not got much going on today. But, uh¡­ job interview?¡± She asked, raising her eyebrows. ¡°We can¡¯t keep living off you forever.¡± Jeanne stated with a determined smile. ¡°Besides, I want to look into getting back to the east coast. Back to family.¡± Her kid looked even *less* happy about that, but still said nothing as her mom shook her head. ¡°So, a job.¡± ¡°You do realize we¡¯re becoming fabulously wealthy, right?¡± James asked. ¡°We can set you up with¡­ something. Or, like, a job here? You actually have no idea how hard it can be to find people that actually engage with the weird stuff, even if they complain constantly about it.¡± Jeanne rolled her eyes at him. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure you could use a medical receptionist.¡± She said sarcastically. ¡°Besides, I need something to *do*.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let Karen hear you say that or she¡¯ll try to give you a job.¡± Jake, now two academic papers deep into his research into a tangent, commented. ¡°She did.¡± Jeanne said. ¡°But I really don¡¯t need a pity job. I need something *useful* to do.¡± She checked the time. ¡°I have to go. Don¡¯t let Ava sneak into the Response floor, or drink coffee again!¡± She said, turning and rapidly walking away after giving her daughter a kiss on the forehead. ¡°Mom!¡± The kid protested as her parent left her in Alanna¡¯s care. ¡°I¡¯m not a *kid*.¡± She said angrily, in that way that only kids could. ¡°Aw.¡± Alanna leaned over to ruffle her hair as Ava took a seat at their table. ¡°Yeaaaah you are.¡± She said, continuing as Ava glared at her. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re not a person, right? Your mom cares about you. She¡¯s just¡­ uh¡­¡± James sighed. ¡°She doesn¡¯t really trust all this, I think.¡± He said. ¡°Karen¡¯s job offer was absolutely real. She just wants to be a bit separate. Which is *fine*, not everyone has to work for us. But¡­ we actually are rich now?¡± ¡°Well, getting there.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Give me a week or two.¡± ¡°She wants to move away.¡± Ava said, leaning herself forward onto the table, head laid on her arms as she watched them. ¡°But I¡¯m not leaving.¡± James, Anesh, and Alanna all shared a look. The kind of look that said ¡®uh oh¡¯. And then followed that up with a brief silent conversation that went something like ¡®that is gonna be a problem¡¯ and ¡®can we somehow make this *not* a problem?¡¯ followed by ¡®probably not.¡¯ ¡°So¡­¡± James ventured. ¡°How¡¯s Hidden doing?¡± Ava perked up immediately. ¡°She¡¯s making friends!¡± She told them. ¡°Cause El has a little sister like her too, and then there¡¯s Planner, and they can talk to each other without Hidden getting hurt!¡± Ava looked very smug for about two seconds before she realized something, got a worried look on her young face, and added, ¡°Don¡¯t tell my mom though!¡± ¡°Why would¡­¡± James paused and rubbed at his eyes as a thought occurred to him. ¡°Oh. You mean that they¡¯re making friends, in your head, because you gave them all space.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Ava looked like a mix between guilty and proud, without really knowing what either of those emotions were. James nodded. ¡°Cool.¡± He said. ¡°No, not cool!¡± Anesh gave James a light swat on the shoulder. ¡°We still don¡¯t have *any* idea whether hosting an infomorph is actually developmentally bad for a human child!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fiiiiine.¡± James said, half-meaning it. ¡°James, people said that about tobacco for centuries.¡± Anesh rubbed at his own forehead. ¡°Please. This is something we need to be careful about.¡± As much as he didn¡¯t like it, James had to admit Anesh was right. He sighed, and was about to say something, when Ava tapped him on the arm, and pointed toward the entrance of the room. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± He asked, turning but seeing no one there. ¡°Planner just said to get your attention.¡± Ava said without much focus, just as Karen walked into the dining area, and met James¡¯ eyes, giving him a nod and a ¡®let¡¯s go¡¯ motion of her hand. James glanced between Karen and Ava. This was a trick Planner pulled a lot, but this felt less like timing and more like communication. In his head, wheels started turning as James considered just how feasible an infomorph based messager service was. ¡°Alright.¡± He sighed, pushing himself out of his chair and setting that idea aside for later. ¡°Time for me to get to work. If everything goes okay, I¡¯ll see ya¡¯ll tonight.¡± He sighed with forlorn longing. ¡°And then just dungeon things. All week. Delves and adventure. All I have to do¡­¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Planner says that Karen is saying bad words at you, with her brain.¡± Ava told him. ¡°I will see everyone later.¡± James concluded with a grin. ¡°Be good, kid.¡± He told Ava as he leaned over to kiss Anesh, then Alanna, then watched as his partners just shrugged, smiled, and shared a kiss with each other since they¡¯d leaned into range anyway. As he was walking away, behind him, he heard Alanna¡¯s voice pick up as she started talking to the young girl. ¡°Oh! Hey, if you owned a huge chunk of land, what would you call it?¡± She asked. James shook his head as he approached Karen, giving a short laugh before he took a deep breath and let himself appreciate what they were about to do. ¡°Are you ready to go?¡± Karen asked him, looking him up and down like she was mentally retailoring his suit. ¡°Nope!¡± James cheerfully assented. ¡°But let¡¯s get going, and I¡¯ll pick up the beat on the way.¡± She looked at him, and met his eyes, and for a brief moment, the two of them traded a connection. James was, under his guise, serious about what their job was today. And Karen, for all her stoic exterior, was more than a little excited. They had two things to do today. First, they were going to drop off the kids they¡¯d bailed out of the Utah Mess. Directly. In front of their houses, via dragon. The kids were simultaneously hyped as hell to be given a ride in a dragon shaped troop transport, but also more than a little mortified that Karen was going to be explaining the situation to their legal guardians in terms that would be a lot easier to ignore if there wasn¡¯t a dragon being parked in their driveways. It was, in a way, a form of strength projection. The Order of Endless Rooms was making a statement, not just to themselves that they were *going* to operate in the open, but to these potentially allied delvers, that they *could*. The kids had chosen to keep their dungeon secret, and unless there was some kind of unknown taxonomy of infomorph at play, it looked like it was just them not trusting the Order. Which matched what everyone had been able to put together about their powers, too; they were absolutely holding something back. Morgan had told James, right after he¡¯d asked about scholarship stuff the other day, that Liam and Lincon had both readily complained about the time it took them to internalize their spells. And while they were teenagers, and therefore genetically guaranteed to be impatient, the time it took shouldn¡¯t have been *that* bad. So, there was something going on there. Something they were hiding. They could keep the secret; the Order would have loved access to another dungeon, but they didn¡¯t *need* it. They weren¡¯t even fully taking advantage of the ones they already had. But they were drawing at least one line. No adventuring. You are *kids*. At least get through high school before you decide to risk your life for powers you don¡¯t need, and put yourselves in combat situations you can¡¯t win. That¡¯s *our* job. James was absolutely sure they¡¯d try to break that rule. He sure would have. But at least their parents could help keep an eye on them. It wasn¡¯t a perfect solution. But there wasn¡¯t a perfect solution. They weren¡¯t keeping people who were trying to be heroes prisoner, even if they were teenagers with too many swords and not enough restraint. Even if bringing them into the Order, and culturally influencing them to a more stable way of thinking and acting, would have solved a lot of problems. ¡°No kidnapping kids¡± was kind of a sticking point for most of them. For some reason. That was just the first part of the day. Because coming up shortly after that, James and Karen were meeting with the Guild of Alchemists. Not a representative. Not a rogue member. The whole Guild. Every one of them that was left. There were fewer of them left than James had realized. Things had not been going well for the Alchemists. Things had been going so badly for them, that they were panicking. Not just panicking, they were tearing themselves apart. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say they¡¯d *torn* themselves apart. An internal dispute over methods that had escalated to a power grab, and then a series of alchemical knife fights in the shadows. And in the course of half a week, a group of people who¡¯d been working together for a minimum of a decade shredded each other down to only a handful of survivors. James and Karen were going to meet with them, this time fully briefed on every scrap of detail that Nate and the other rogues could turn up. Unless the Alchemists were running a lot more counterintelligence than was logistically feasible for them, then they had some problems going on. Loss of most of their members, not to mention their foot soldiers. Destroyed stockpiles of potions. Legal scrutiny as estates and lawyers started looking into the affairs of the deceased; or at least, those who had been discovered. Worse legal scrutiny as the money they¡¯d used to buy off the local police suddenly started to not look like quite enough. James wasn¡¯t going to pretend he understood feeling anxiety over having ¡®only¡¯ tens of millions of dollars left. But he understood feeling afraid. Feeling like you had to take a shitty option, over no option. Feeling that pressure of dread closing in all around you and just struggling to find something, *anything* comfortable and familiar to stave it off while you hoped for a solution. So, he and Karen were going - with significant backup on hand - to the Yew Branch Country Club Lodge and Golf Course, to have lunch, meet the Alchemists in a place they were comfortable, talk about the future. And, whether the Alchemists knew it or not yet, accept their surrender. _____ Dave landed Pendragon on a golf course, just past the second hole, absolutely interrupting someone¡¯s game. ¡°Sorry!¡± James called to the golfers with a wave and *absolute* insincerity as he dismounted the aluminum step that unfolded from Pendragon¡¯s side as she landed and opened up her passenger pods so James and Karen could hop out. ¡°Who golfs when it¡¯s thirty degrees and damp out?¡± He muttered to himself. He¡¯d given up on caring about public displays. It wasn¡¯t just that the Order didn¡¯t need to hide, because they absolutely did want to avoid undue attention from things like ¡®governments¡¯ and ¡®militaries¡¯. It was that they¡¯d started to fully understand what they were up against when it came to getting noticed. When James had first heard members of Research talking about the Field Effect, he assumed they were just talking about a particularly annoying memeplex. They had experience with those from Officium Mundi, and also to a lesser extent the Akashic Sewer; infomorphs that were more like structures than people. Geographically centered, and basically dedicated to what they¡¯d started calling the masquerade suite of effects. Don¡¯t notice this, if you do don¡¯t remember this, if you do don¡¯t talk about this. Memeplexes sucked, because they didn¡¯t actually care if you were someone who was interested in or even involved with the weirdness that dungeons brought up. They hit everyone pretty much equally, and some of them had bonus nightmare fuel in the form of erasing records of their victims, cutting the memories out of people who knew you, or just driving you slowly mad. The Order tried to keep an eye out for them, as best they could, and killed them if possible. That had happened exactly once, and then Daniel and Pathfinder had gone on vacation for two weeks to recover. The two of them had instantly begun planning a more coordinated strike against the other memeplex they knew about, with broader backup from the other infomorphs of the Order, but that wasn¡¯t what was going on here. The Field Effect wasn¡¯t a memeplex. Or if it was, it was a memeplex in the same way that a mountain was a rock. *Technically*, that was accurate, but it wasn¡¯t exactly useful. Something was going on. Something was going on with a level of suspicious bullshit that they really should have noticed it before. Or rather, an uncomfortable lack of anything was going on. *Nothing* was going on. The Order was known to at least one department head at the FBI. They¡¯d gotten involved in a shootout that had left bodies on the floor with at least two CIA agents present. They knew the police in their area knew about them and didn¡¯t like them much. They had been present when a high school had almost been demolished by a displaced dungeon. They *blew up a building*. They were *openly operating a public safety force* with *teleporters*. And nothing changed. Well, not nothing. People called Response, the FBI tried to bribe or threaten at least one knight a week, and a couple times now someone had uploaded one of their videos to YouTube or made a Reddit post about them. But that was it. It wasn¡¯t normal, and it wasn¡¯t just that they were getting unlucky going viral. It was that information was being stopped from spreading. *Somehow*. Through a method they didn¡¯t quite understand and had a hard time tracking. But there were a couple amateur sociologists in the Order, and enough people with related orb skills to back them up, that they had been able to put together a quick study of people Response had interacted with. Ninety percent of people who had seen Response actually teleport in, had never told anyone about it. Not in any detail. They still *remembered*, and when talking to people *from* Response they had as good a memory as could be expected of the event, but they never passed that on to anyone ¡®out of the loop¡¯. They even stopped sharing the Response phone number; the people who heard about them almost entirely got the number from someone who hadn¡¯t ever actually called it. It was spreading on blind trust, and without any knowledge of what Response could really do. That statistic was overwhelming. And terrifying. Because it applied everywhere, not just in a single place. It wasn¡¯t a memeplex; it wasn¡¯t an infomorph of any kind they could identify. It was just¡­ a thing. An effect. The Field Effect, as Reed kept calling it. And the name seemed to be sticking. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. James was mad at it, and really wanted to shoot it somehow, but he couldn¡¯t, so he got Dave to land his dragon on a golf course instead. It was cathartic. It was also a really smooth landing; the big dragon moving with more and more practice, and the help of her human pilot-slash-rider. As much as it pained him to admit to any kind of base desire, James did need to acknowledge that he was pretty jealous of Dave having a mindlink partner that was also a dragon. Pendragon had more or less stopped growing, which seemed intentional, but she was still *a dragon*. There was something about dragons that spoke to the primitive part of his nerd brain, and something even more potent about being a dragon riding knight. James could, technically, be inside his partners while he was mindlinked to them, but that didn¡¯t allow for flight and also wasn¡¯t something he was quite prepared to brag about in polite company. ¡°Are you ready?¡± Karen asked him, adjusting her collar, and James let the dumb smirk on his face fade to one of casual competence rather than laughing at his own inner monologue. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said with a nod. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± They hiked across the green, on a more or less straight line toward the country club they¡¯d come to meet at, while Pendragon launched herself skyward with the rest of their backup. James took a minute as they walked to enjoy the novel sensation of golf course grass under his feet; it was obviously grass, but it just felt weird. Almost spongey by way of how short it was. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± Karen nodded politely to the golfers as they passed by, the trio of middle aged men staring at the two of them practically open mouthed as they passed; the mid twenties kid they had as their caddy recording the whole thing on his cell phone. They passed by, circling around a small pond, and onto a concrete path that led to some steps up to a wide patio on the back of the main building. ¡°You,¡± James cheerfully accused Karen as they moved, ¡°enjoyed that.¡± She glanced at him, raising one eyebrow. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I did too. That was hilarious. But *you* enjoyed that! I would never have suspected!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t push it.¡± Karen deadpanned, stepping up to the back door of the patio, her heels clicking with satisfying impacts on the treated wood. The door was already held open for them by a balding man in a server¡¯s jacket. ¡°Good afternoon,¡± Karen repeated her greeting with a kind of practiced precision, ¡°we have a reservation.¡± ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± The man said with only a small pause. ¡°Right this way.¡± He held the door for them, not reacting to James thanking him, and then moved past them with smooth steps as they got out of the cold. James didn¡¯t really like the idea of country clubs. Sort of. The wealth and class and often race focused exclusion, the wasteful nature of their construction, the way they were used and maintained was just kind of outside what he thought a healthy society should have. But walking through the long room they¡¯d entered, with its big bay windows facing the clean green lawn of the golf course, full of bookshelves and padded chairs and a dominating fireplace, James couldn¡¯t say he faulted them on the environment. This place had, at least in how it *looked*, a vibe that was taxonomically similar to the Lair. It was a place where people would gather, to sip at drinks and hold quiet conversations, to watch their peers play a game, to quietly read a book or a newspaper. It was *exactly* like what James had cultivated in multiple floors of his own home base. Except, it wasn¡¯t exactly. It was empty. Not just quiet, but that there was no one here. The room was immaculately clean, it wasn¡¯t like there was dust accruing on anything, and it was well decorated too. Glittering crystal light fixtures, noble painted portraits on the walls, it was almost a stereotype of the business it was part of. But there was *no one here*. There was just a feeling, a vibe in the air, like this room didn¡¯t get used for anything. Like its purpose was to look lavish and beautiful, and never to be touched. They passed by a few members and staff as they walked with purpose, James noting that the few people having lunch seemed to all be men in their fifties and at least half drunk already. They got a few looks, possibly because he was the youngest person in the building that wasn¡¯t working in the back of the kitchen, but no one stopped them with their staff guide. The dining room they were taken to, which was one of three different sectioned off areas that James could spot as they moved, was down a small set of carpeted steps, and was similar in terms of appearance, even if this one did actually feel like it got used. It was being used right now, in fact. Exactly one table was occupied, positioned to take up the whole of the floor space. Three men and one woman sat on the other side of it, facing down James and Karen like a tribunal as they entered. All of them dressed in a way that James knew he should recognize as stylish or professional, but that even with at least one sartorial skill rank, he couldn¡¯t really identify. The whole thing felt like a power play, and James only barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. All of them on one side of the table like that, drinks already half gone like they¡¯d been casually waiting for an hour? They were trying to project an aura of causal control. James and Karen sat in unison. The staff member who¡¯d brought them here stood back. ¡°If you require anything, please ask.¡± He said with deference. James decided that his approach to the serious mood here would be sledgehammer-esque. ¡°Yeah, can I get some pineapple juice?¡± He asked with complete sincerity. ¡°And, you know, make it feel like I¡¯m on a tropical vacation. Slice of lime, little sword with a cherry on it, that kind of thing. Karen?¡± She gave him an exasperated look, before turning back to their guide and saying, ¡°I will have the same. With a small umbrella in it.¡± It took an act of will for James to avoid saying ¡°I fucking knew it.¡± But somehow, he managed. Instead, they all waited quietly while the balding man left them to the relative quiet of their private dining area, closing a windowed door behind himself. And then, with a tense voice, one of the Alchemists spoke. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± He said, setting aside the mostly empty glass of an amber liquor that he¡¯d been sipping from. ¡°I¡¯m Alchemist Tigris, you have already met Alchemist Nile,¡± he motioned to the frowning man next to him, ¡°and this is Alchemist Indus, and Alchemist Red.¡± He indicated the man sitting at the end of the table first, a face James could only describe as jolly covered by a pair of thick round glasses and a fluffy white beard, followed by the woman on the other end who was fidgeting with one of her earrings and pretending she wasn¡¯t glaring at them. All of them looked so exhausted. Though only the woman had done a good job of hiding the dark circles under her eyes. James wasn¡¯t a huge fan of makeup in general, but it seemed like if they wanted to present as in control, the guys should have taken some cosmetic advice from her. ¡°James.¡± He introduced himself. ¡°This is Karen. I¡¯ve gotta ask, why rivers?¡± ¡°When some of us were younger, it seemed like fun.¡± Indus answered simply, his tired voice hitching a couple of times as he spoke. ¡°What he means is that it has become tradition.¡± Nile said with a small amount of anger. ¡°And not that-¡° ¡°Nile? Shut up.¡± The woman next to him spoke with fury in her eyes. ¡°You aren¡¯t in a position to posture.¡± She snapped. Karen cleared her throat. ¡°Regardless.¡± She said smoothly. ¡°You offered a meeting.¡± She didn¡¯t exactly say it as a question, but left the sentence dangling open, for the other adults in the room to fill in their own ending. James caught himself, thinking of them as ¡®the adults¡¯, as if he wasn¡¯t an adult himself. It was too easy to fall back on a lifetime of being told that old was the same as authoritative, and to give undue respect to the bastards sitting across the table. He needed to check that. There was a brief pause as the door to their private room was opened with a light knock, and a skinny kid with immaculate hair came in and provided Karen and James with their drinks before vanishing after it became clear he wasn¡¯t needed for anything else. And then Alchemist Tigris faced them with folded hands on the white tablecloth. Calmly, without sighing or expressing anything, though James could pretty easily pick out that he was putting a lot of effort into appearing calm. ¡°So then. Business.¡± He looked between James and Karen, as if trying to determine which of them was in charge, before settling on the older of the pair. ¡°It is my understanding that you wish to establish a form of working relationship with our group?¡± ¡°Of a sorts.¡± Karen began, settling back, her drink untouched in front of her. ¡°Something of mutual benefit to all of us.¡± ¡°Feh!¡± Alchemist Red snorted, the woman fixing an unpleasant stare on Karen. ¡°You expect us to believe anything you have to say, after what you started?¡± ¡°Amelia¡­¡± Indus started with a sigh, tiling his head to into his palm and rubbing his forehead. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time-¡° ¡°No?¡± Red snapped back. ¡°Then when will be the time, *George*?¡± She demanded. ¡°Maybe after we have lunch? Maybe when we¡¯re all dead? Should I *pencil you in*!?¡± She hissed at him. Suppressing his core instincts, James shut up, and watched, doing his best to mimic Karen and fading himself out of the conversation without reminding them that he was there. The Alchemists didn¡¯t shut up. ¡°Please, can we focus on-¡° Nile started to say, before he was cut off. A huff of exasperation from Tigris, and sigh from Indus, and a belligerent ¡°Oh, yes, Nile, let¡¯s focus on how it¡¯s not only *their* fault, shall we?¡± From Red. ¡°Please, Amelia,¡± Indus repeated himself, ¡°at least for a minute, can you let it lie?¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t think I¡¯ve forgotten *your* toll in all this, either!¡± Alchemist Red shot across the table. ¡°How many people, exactly-¡° ¡°Alchemist Red.¡± Tigris¡¯ voice was hard, and James found himself sitting up a little straighter as the words burrowed into his ears with more force than normal. ¡°Alchemist Indus. Be silent.¡± He didn¡¯t turn away from staring across the table to look at his compatriots. Or, more likely, his subordinates. ¡°What,¡± he asked Karen, ¡°is your proposition?¡± ¡°Do you need a minute?¡± James asked back. ¡°We can wait.¡± Tigris fixed him with a cold stare. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± Karen nodded. ¡°Your organization, the Guild of Alchemists, is responsible for a large amount of damage, harm, and loss of life. You have proven irresponsible and dangerous. Our *proposition* is for the suspension of your activities as an independent group, the payment of restitution where possible, the surrender of your assets, and rehabilitative assignment of your membership until such time as you are capable of behaving in a constructive manner without adult supervision.¡± She cleared her throat lightly, reaching out and taking a tiny sip of her tropical juice drink, the muffled clink of the glass back on the table deafening in the silence that followed her statement. ¡°Do you seriously expect-¡° Alchemist Tigris raised a hand, cutting off the objection from the expected source. ¡°Your demand is unreasonable.¡± He said simply. ¡°No it¡¯s not.¡± James answered calmly. ¡°You don¡¯t really have a position to argue from here. We¡¯re not a government or police force, we¡¯re not gonna throw you in a hole and punish you. But you have absolutely fucked up, and it¡¯s time to fix it.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t come here today to have this kid lecture me again.¡± Nile snarled. ¡°No, but it¡¯s happening, isn¡¯t it?¡± Indus - George, James connected the two names mentally - hid a small smirk in his glass. The older central Alchemist silenced them with a wave of his hand. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± He said. ¡°You don¡¯t have the authority to enforce any of this. And you certainly don¡¯t have the strength. Not against the might and wealth of the Guild of Alchemists.¡± He said the words like a drowning man convinced he had just grabbed a piece of wood large enough to float on. ¡°We know what¡¯s been going on with you.¡± James said quietly, and sank him. ¡°Make no mistake,¡± Karen added, ¡°there is only one reason we are having this conversation at all. And it is because the surviving members here are the ones that were slightly reluctant to brew mind control potions for the government.¡± Alchemist Indus took a deep sigh, and drained the rest of his drink. Again. ¡°I suppose Amelia confirmed it, if you weren¡¯t already sure.¡± James shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ve been keeping an eye on you, since I almost died to one of your potions.¡± He didn¡¯t really explain. ¡°We don¡¯t have the whole story, but we do know that you¡¯ve been killing each other. Would you like to tell us exactly, why?¡± There was a long moment of silence. Followed by a snort from Alchemist Red. ¡°Because they were going to get us killed.¡± She said. ¡°Amelia¡­¡± Indus looked like he was legitimately close to shedding a single manly tear. ¡°Please, don¡¯t make light of-¡° ¡°Or what, George? You¡¯ll be cross with me? You¡¯ll not help with my research? Does it even matter? Did it *ever* matter? Everything we did, everything we were! Gone in a week, because they were too stupid to-¡° ¡°They were our friends!¡± George bellowed, half rising out of his seat, thick crystal glass in his hand like he was about to pitch it at her head. ¡°They trusted us! We were supposed to be *better than this*!¡± James felt like he was watching the end of a play that he¡¯d only barely seen the program for and had missed the first two acts of. He should have brought popcorn. ¡°Excuse me,¡± he cut in, ¡°but we still haven¡¯t resolved this.¡± The central figure on their side of the table raised a hand again, but this time Indus didn¡¯t sit. The old man instead pacing over to one of the windows that looked out over the grey sky and green grass, leaning on his own arm as he caught his breath. ¡°We have recently had a small schism.¡± Tigris said. ¡°And yes, you are correct. We are¡­ what is left. We are all that is left.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to end up this way.¡± Alchemist Nile said in an almost pitiful voice. ¡°It was¡­ just business.¡± James¡¯ hardened his stare. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever say that in front of me again.¡± He said with a cold voice. This time, Tigris interruption came to the defense of his subordinate. ¡°Our¡­ membership had a falling out, of sorts.¡± He said. ¡°In simple terms, we disagreed on who we worked for. Though of course, it¡¯s more complex than that. For some of us, we¡¯ve been here for forty years or more. Plenty of time to form a web of rivalries and grudges.¡± He looked down at one of his hands, and James noticed that under the cuff of his suit jacket, there were bandages wrapped up the length of his arm. ¡°We are, yes, diminished. But we are not out of tricks or strength. And your demand,¡± he looped the conversation back, ¡°is not acceptable.¡± ¡°Which parts do you find disagreeable?¡± Karen asked in her calm professional voice that James usually only heard when he was trying to budget something irresponsible. Almost unseen around her, a trio of misty ghostly blue limbs that looked like a mix between thin human arms and thick octopus tentacles laid a set of documents onto the table in front of her. The Alchemists who were paying attention startled at the casual display of Planner¡¯s particular brand of logistical magic, but Karen ignored that. ¡°All of it.¡± Red claimed with an angry undertone. ¡°I must agree, yes.¡± Tigris steepled his fingers in front of his mouth as he answered. ¡°You are asking us to give up everything we are. There isn¡¯t a conversation to be had there.¡± ¡°I disagree.¡± James said quietly. ¡°Because we are having that conversation. If we really thought this wasn¡¯t something we could reconcile, we wouldn¡¯t have bothered.¡± He shifted in his seat, tugging on one of the cuffs of his shirt in an idle motion. ¡°Do you know, I wonder, how many people have asked me why we didn¡¯t just shoot all of you?¡± The room got very quiet. Karen cleared her throat diplomatically. ¡°James¡­¡± she murmured to him. ¡°We¡¯re still here though.¡± James continued. ¡°In large part because several members of our organization pushed for it. To treat you like people, and to operate like how we want the future to look like, and not to just start blasting.¡± He took a breath, but kept going before anyone could interrupt him, though he did make a note of how much both Red and Nile were simmering angrily at him. ¡°There¡¯s a conversation here, because we¡¯re here, talking. So, you say our demand is unacceptable. What *would be*?¡± ¡°We won¡¯t be taking marching orders from you, for a start.¡± Nile started, getting a sigh from his right and a hiss of anger from his left. James was pretty sure he¡¯d put together the social dynamic of these survivors pretty well by this point, but there was some nuance to it. Nile was still so sure he was invincible that he was prepared to fight for what he considered he was owed, and was a constant frustration to the others who didn¡¯t want him here. Red was just angry, at all of them, but especially Indus, absolutely related to their civil war. Indus was the eldest, and the way he talked made it sound like he was maybe one of the first to call themselves an Alchemist; a founder, but no longer in charge. And Tigris¡­ Tigris liked how things were. Liked being so rich he could throw money at problems until they fucked off. Liked having people show him respect, or deference. Liked having power. He wasn¡¯t an idiot, but he was a bit behind the reality of their situation. He was so used to being in command of any given situation, that it didn¡¯t seem to have occurred to him where he stood relative to the people in front of him. While Nile and Red got into another bout of bickering, he shared this with Karen via skulljack, and she more or less confirmed his assessment. Her followup reply was simple, and tactical. Focus on their assets, get them to play out their counteroffer. Assume they¡¯d lie by about fifty percent. He signaled agreement, and focused back on the discussion just as Tigris angrily cut them both off again. The old man was getting visibly angry now. A blotchy red splash of color on his cheeks and neck, words coming just a bit too fast for his tongue. But still, once his subordinates were quiet again, he turned back to James and Karen with somewhat professional behavior. ¡°Alchemist Nile, flawed as his reasons may be, has the right of it. We will not *submit* to you. However, you mentioned assets¡­¡± It was almost impressive how Karen had read the guy. Straight to the matter of money. Even Indus seemed disappointed with him. ¡°Go on.¡± James said, trying to hide his own disappointment. ¡°Well. We are obviously not willing to give up our methods or secrets. However, perhaps an exchange of goods and services? Our brotherhood, has a number of stockpiles of our elixirs. And, currently, find ourselves in need of a certain level of security. Perhaps you would be interested?¡± ¡°What volume are you talking about, exactly?¡± Karen, ever the businesswoman, asked directly. Alchemist Nile, for once checking to make sure he should speak before answering, jumped in. ¡°We have four hundred gallons of the muscle and skin regenerators. Two hundred of the literacy elixir. And¡­¡± He glanced at Red, sharing a look of grudging respect with her. ¡°Eighty of the lung purifier. Thousands of doses.¡± ¡°Yours.¡± Tigris said. ¡°All of it. If you can simply help us relocate, free from those who would still do us harm. We¡¯ve seen you in action; far more capable than our previous security, to be sure. Oh. Transport, along, of course, with a few proprietary pieces of equipment.¡± ¡°We know about your stupid tree.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°Sorry, lung purifier?¡± ¡°It purifies lungs.¡± Alchemist Red said, and James *almost* liked her for the tiny smirk in her voice. ¡°A recent creation of our collaboration. Highly effective, safe. Removed carcinogens, toxins, chronic damage though not underlying diseases, scar tissue. Even cures cancer.¡± That was, perhaps, not the best thing to say in front of James. His eyes widened a fraction, as he realized what he¡¯d just been told, before Karen silently set an arm on his shoulder. ¡°Interesting.¡± She said. ¡°However, this does not account for the damages you have done. Alchemists, you have *murdered*. Intentional or not, that is not something that can be left unsaid.¡± ¡°Good luck proving that in court.¡± Nile said belligerently. ¡°Ten seconds ago, Tigris reminded me that he¡¯s seen me shrug off explosions and stab people with the ground.¡± James said. ¡°You do get that when he said we were more effective than your previous security, what he meant was that I killed several members of your previous security right?¡± James watched Nile freeze up, the gentleman¡¯s face losing some of its smug superiority for a moment, twisting into something angrier and uglier than before. ¡°What we did, we did with good reason.¡± Indus said softly, like he was speaking to a small child. Still standing over by the window, he turned to look at James with a sad waver in his eyes. ¡°Some of us, I suppose. There was a cost to be paid, to learn, and to discover. And what discoveries we have made. We could change the world, with what we¡¯ve found. Imagine. Cures for all diseases. Perfect bodies, perfect minds. The next step for humanity. Do you ever understand, how much has been *lost* this last week? Do you even *care* that immortality was within our grasp?¡± ¡°You really should reevaluate who you are speaking to.¡± Karen said with dry amusement. James was less amused. ¡°I do not care about your reasons.¡± He said. ¡°I would love to live in that future, but not if we build it on a graveyard. You, *all of you*, need to answer for what you have done.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t be a prisoner.¡± Red stated with glittering anger in her eyes, hands rapidly tapping on the tablecloth. ¡°On this one thing, we agree.¡± Nile snarled. Karen passed a series of ethereal sheets of paper across the table, which none of them touched and all of them looked at with suspicion. ¡°Good.¡± She said. ¡°We have a different view of justice than you may be used to. This is the outline of what we have planned. In short, you would be integrated into our Order. Kept watch on, yes. But your freedoms would only be limited insofar as that you would not be allowed to repeat your crimes. As your social and mental health is determined to be stable, fewer restrictions would be needed. Until, ultimately, you would be full members of the future *we* wish to build.¡± ¡°And what is that future?¡± Nile laughed. ¡°One where you¡¯re in charge? You don¡¯t even believe in *prisons*, why should we trust you with anything? You¡¯re just liberal anarchists, for fucks sake!¡± James had to bite his tongue to keep from correcting at least one of those word choices; though he resigned himself to a sigh as Karen patted his shoulder knowingly. ¡°Nile.¡± Tigris whispered, and James realized he¡¯d been staring at the table for the last minute or two. He looked up, running his hand across his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize.¡± He said to James. ¡°That it was you, personally. I had thought, maybe, they¡¯d send someone else.¡± He laughed. ¡°If we refuse your offer, I wonder, how many of us could make it out of here alive?¡± Tigris glanced at Karen, and the spectral limbs of Planner still around her, making notes on the Alchemist¡¯s potion stockpile. ¡°How many ways do you have to kill us?¡± ¡°A lot.¡± James acknowledged. ¡°Though I¡¯m less armed than normal. And if you say no¡­ well. We have no authority, as you said. You¡¯d all walk out of here. And then we¡¯ll tip off the CIA about you. They *are*, in fact, quite angry at how things have been going. Well, the handful of them in the state looking for you, anyway.¡± James frowned. ¡°Or we¡¯ll send the mountain of evidence in your involvement in a variety of crimes, including kidnapping and murder, to the police, who you can no longer afford to bribe. We will begin systematically removing your assets, your ability to make war, and your motivation to cause harm. And¡­ this may sound kinda silly¡­ and I¡¯ll feel *really bad* about it. Because it all could have been avoided.¡± James met Tigris¡¯ eyes, and gave a small shake of his head. ¡°But I¡¯ll fucking do it all anyway. And if it looks like it¡¯s a choice between you and a random civilian, I will bury you myself. But, but, *but*¡­ this isn¡¯t a *threat*. This is us, coming here, to ask you to be *better*. To give you a chance, to change, instead of just¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°This isn¡¯t a negotiation at all, is it?¡± Alchemist Red asked. ¡°This is just a shakedown.¡± ¡°It is a negotiation.¡± Karen firmly stated. ¡°The negotiation is for you to convince us that you are worth saving. James has decided that you are, but many of us remain unconvinced. And then, the negotiation is for the terms of restorative justice.¡± Nile, for the first time, looked like he didn¡¯t have anything to say. ¡°Well fuck.¡± He said, not letting a lack of useful words stop him. With a glance out the arched window at the end of the room, Tigris took a breath, and spoke in a tone like someone leading a proceeding they had done a hundred times before. ¡°All members in favor of accepting terms.¡± He raised his hand. The other Alchemists at the table did the same, almost silently, though with one last grunt of annoyance from Red. ¡°We¡­¡± he swallowed hard, pouring himself a glass of water from one of the decanters on the table with a shaking hand. ¡°We remand ourselves to your mercy.¡± He finished. James stood up, settling himself into a relaxed stance. ¡°The Order of Endless Rooms formally accepts your surrender.¡± He told them, taking a cue from Karen and leaning into the gravitas of the moment. ¡°We will-¡° ¡°No.¡± The word cut through the room, filling the space with a defiant tone. James raised an eyebrow, turning with everyone else to where Alchemist Indus was looking at them from the window he still hadn¡¯t stepped away from. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Indus, it¡¯s too late for this now.¡± Tigris said with exhausted finality. ¡°What are we supposed to do? Our allies are in the wind, our resources dwindle, *we are finished*. We were always finished anyway. At least this way, it¡¯s metaphorical and not a bullet in the back.¡± ¡°My work is not finished.¡± Indus declared. ¡°The horizon beckons, Tigris. That was always the goal. You have lost sight! Lost your vision!¡± ¡°Calm down old man.¡± Nile pushed his chair back. ¡°No one likes this, but it¡¯s not the *end*.¡± ¡°No.¡± Indus spoke again. ¡°I will see *my* future, not yours. Tigris, you failure, you *coward*, giving in to the threats of children. Decades, we worked together, and this is how you decide it ends? No, no! I refuse! You won¡¯t take what I¡¯ve built!¡± The last line was screamed at James and Karen, the bearded man, so friendly and sly looking earlier now bellowing at them with a finger pointed accusingly. Nile and Red both shifted like they were prepared for a yelling match, a motion that they were seemingly quite familiar with. But then, Indus *moved*. The old man whipped forward like a predator, and before Nile could snap back at him, planted a dress shoe on the man¡¯s chest, and kicked so hard that the padded dining chair tumbled over him as he was sent flying backward, the snapping of bone audible in the room. ¡°Oh God!¡± Red yelled, fumbling in her sleeve for what was obviously a hidden weapon. Tigris just stared, stunned and hollow, at the pile of furniture and human that had been sent tumbling to the corner. ¡°You will give them *nothing*!¡± Indus bellowed, turning his increasingly unstable glare onto Red, who tried to stand and scramble backward. James slid across the table, a great clattering sounding as he tugged the tablecloth and sent a dozen different glasses and pieces of cutlery smashing into each other. He got between them just in time, toggling the bracer stretching the sleeve of his dress shirt to ¡°kick¡± and dropping it down to four switch charges left just in time to deflect another strike, the pane of light springing up around himself and Red in a blinding flare. ¡°You don¡¯t have to-!¡± He got out, before Indus punched him. James was a pretty durable person. But the impact of the old man¡¯s fist on his shoulder was one of the weirdest sensations he¡¯d felt in a while. It was strong, but it was so *ameture* that it was almost laughable. If he¡¯d been hit in the throat, or even just directly on his chest or face, that might have killed him outright. But Indus, for all that he¡¯d obviously enhanced himself somehow, wasn¡¯t actually a fighter. And his punch rippled off James with a feeling like his arm was already bruised, but that he¡¯d be completely fine. He slid into a guard stance, arms up, and deflected the next strike. Delivered a trio of sharp jabs to Indus¡¯ ribcage as the other man¡¯s punch went wide and he stumbled forward. *Weave*, a painted voice that sounded like wings echoed in his head, the words matching an orange line of light he knew to be a route to safety; and so James tilted his head slightly to get out of the way of an overextended haymaker and punched again, trying to circle his leg around for a trip before he had to back off from another hit. Deflect with his forearm, listen to the cartomorph nudging him into the route to avoid the worse hits, kick to the knee to stumble. *Back off*, because he wasn¡¯t in this to deliver a killing blow. This was, he realized, *easy*. Indus could kill him if he got a hit off, but so what? James had been fighting things like that for years now. Every paper pusher was more dangerous than this. Because Indus, unlike every for James faced in the Office, *desperately wanted to live through this*. It took one more round of back and forth before the man, blood now staining his white beard from a leaking split on his cheek, spat to the side and backed off, gasping for breath. ¡°Please.¡± James said, not even winded. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be this way.¡± ¡°Of course it doesn¡¯t.¡± Indus replied, taking deep breaths that seemed to reinvigorate him more and more with every gasp. ¡°But look. *Look* at me! Sixty eight years old, and you can barely hold your own!¡± James disagreed, but Indus was on a roll, so he didn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°You can¡¯t stop me, I *will* see my research finished, and no upstart child will get in my way!¡± While he¡¯d been yelling, James had noticed the Alchemist going for something in his coat pocket, and he didn¡¯t bother to stop Indus as the man uncapped a flask and took a swig from it. And then, puffing up his cheeks like he¡¯d crammed to many grapes in there, titled his head back like he was going to spew something at James, a bright cherry red glow coming from his skin. James knew too much about fantasy tropes to get caught by this one. The movement was almost reflexive at this point; tick down the bracer to three charges, set the block to ¡®fire¡¯, and make sure everyone was behind him. The inferno that Indus spewed out was a little more like an actual dragon¡¯s breath than James had anticipated, but it splashed against the shield of light all the same, even as the temperature in the room spiked up and the curtains and tablecloth started to smolder. Before it ended, Indus was already taking a drink from a separate vial, while James coughed and blinked away the sudden smoke from the attack. Whatever negative thoughts he had about the old bitter Alchemist, lack of adaptability wasn¡¯t one of them. And it only took him a half second of seeing that he hadn¡¯t killed them all to down another potion, before throwing himself sideways through the wall of the building, and sprinting away across the green of the golf course, making a beeline for the parking lot. He covered fifteen feet a step, he was moving so fast. James sighed, and dusted himself off, realizing that basically all of his juice was now staining his pants. ¡°Dammit.¡± He muttered. ¡°Karen?¡± He glanced over at where she was checking on the downed Alchemist. ¡°He¡¯s breathing. Unconscious.¡± Karen replied. ¡°What just happened?!¡± Red demanded, flinching away from the burning table. ¡°What did you do? Why did George *do that*?!¡± She screamed. ¡°Tigris¡­ Albert¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡± Her voice started to crack, almost becoming a sob. ¡°He¡¯ll be going for the mansion.¡± Tigris said in an empty voice. He¡¯d barely moved through the fight, except to stumble out of his chair when the fire hit. Like he was resigned to his fate, like something had broken in him. ¡°To recover the tree.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± James looked up. ¡°Oh. Right. Don¡¯t worry about it. We need to get Nile to a hospital. Would either of you like to come along?¡± He asked. The two conscious Alchemists left looked at him with expressions that were either panicked, or dead. Red looked like she was considering also running, or shooting someone in the room with the pistol she¡¯d produced from her shirt sleeve, while Tigris just looked¡­ tired. Like something in the conversation had finally pushed him over the edge, and he had fully abdicated everything about responsibility to interact with the outside world. ¡°James.¡± Karen spoke his name, drawing his attention down to where she had her hands holding a cloth dinner napkin pressed against a cut on the side of Nile¡¯s arm. ¡°They¡¯re scared. Forget that they¡¯re older than you, and do what you do.¡± The words caught on something in his mind, jolting him into action without question. He trusted Karen, and so he listened and let himself be guided. James took a breath to speak. ¡°Hey.¡± He said quietly. ¡°I understand this is horrible. But you surrendered. You¡¯re under our custody now, and that means we will *keep you safe*. Okay?¡± The two of them just looked at him. ¡°We need to get your friend¡­ eh¡­ your¡­ coworker? Nile. We need to get Nile to a hospital. We can teleport, and we can take you with us. Would you like to come with us?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Red said instantly, a trembling hand tucking her little snubnosed gun back into its concealed holster. ¡°If he dies, I want to gloat.¡± She made the comment like it was a shield against actually having to show she cared. The words got a reflexive shake of the head from Tigris. ¡°I¡­will come too. To keep these two from¡­ well.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James finally rolled his eyes. ¡°I get it. Okay. Response will meet us there, and we can work on securing your stuff and relocating you.¡± He knelt next to Karen, the two of them quickly deciding via skulljack on what hospital to use, and letting Planner calligraphy the address onto the telepad. He looked up at them, and held out a hand. ¡°Come on.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s get you out of here.¡± ¡°Just like that.¡± Tigris commented. ¡°All it took was a few words, and that¡¯s it.¡± ¡°You misunderstand.¡± Karen told him. ¡°The words are where you start. The rest of it is¡­ well, for you, quite a lot of work.¡± He stared at her for a second, but then wordlessly stood, and stepped toward James, reaching out to take the offered hand. His palm was rough, and sweaty, but his grip was firm; a lifetime of handshakes keeping him in good habits. Tigris looked at James, and then back at his fellow Alchemist. ¡°Skin contact?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± James said, and watched as Tigris reached out and let Red take his hand too. ¡°Indus won¡¯t stop, you know.¡± She said. ¡°Teleporting or not, if you don¡¯t hurry, he¡¯ll clear out our stockpiles, and run. He¡¯s¡­ I knew he was dedicated, but this¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± James said, voice tight and pained. ¡°He didn¡¯t get very far.¡± He¡¯d given the order to the backup team through their link before Indus had even pulled his wall phasing trick. Red didn¡¯t look like she believed him, but James wasn¡¯t in a mood to explain. Without wasting any more time, he ripped the page, and took them out of the country club. Leaving behind only a mess for the staff to clean up, some dying embers, a few broken chairs, and a lot of questions. Chapter 192 ¡°How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives.¡± -Annie Dillard, The Writing Life- _____ The Red Lion hotel was slightly less of a mess inside than it appeared from the parking lot. From the front, it looked like a series of a few three story buildings, divided up into hotel rooms, with maybe a few of the ground floor sections set aside for renting out to business conferences or wedding parties. It also looked like it had been in an active war zone for the last year, and not just a small town in Tennessee. Holes in the walls, shattered windows, cars in the parking lot with smashed windshields and dented doors when they weren¡¯t just torn in half. The vegetation around it was dead or dying. The brass and color of the double doors that led into the front lobby was warped and torn out of its frame. In a lot of places, sheets of plywood covered up some of the worse holes. The parking garage was worse. It looked like a demented porcupine; a hundred spines of concrete and asphalt trailing off it in shapes that looked curved and organic, but were no less solid for their appearances. The inside was worse; those same spikes piercing vehicle after vehicle, occasionally going into tight corners or straight into walls. Many of them ended at points where the ground was stained with red and black blood splotches. The Order members camping out here had done a good job peeling the asphalt spears out of the hotel itself, but that just made it stand out more in a city where no building had escaped undamaged. Inside, in contrast, was¡­ well, it was a different kind of mess, at least. Saying it was less of a mess might be a lie. But the direction of mess was different. Outside, the mess had already happened, and it was a constant effort to bring everything back to a usable state, even as weather and time continued. Inside, it had been a more or less empty building, and it was a constant effort by the Order members working here to fill it with a city¡¯s worth of stuff. Even through the damage that clearly showed on some of the walls and bits of the ceiling, though, it was still a pretty alright place to be. James wandered past the abandoned front desk to the dining hall where the team here kept a big fireplace roaring, giving the whole building a warm and inviting feeling even as the temperature outside continued to drop as winter wore on. The building was cluttered, yes; piles of gear and recovered items lined the walls around here, and the majority of the furniture that was still intact had been shifted into a giant stack over in a far corner. But it wasn¡¯t dirty; a handful of green orbs stacked on the building rapidly eliminating trash, which seemed to include dirt in the carpet too. There were a couple people here, holding down the fort and also enjoying the warmest room in the building since there was minimal electricity here. James nodded to Yin, the rogue draped half upside down over the side of a couch not seeming to notice him, and moved over to greet the person he was here to see. ¡°Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?¡± James asked, standing what one of his etiquette skills told him was exactly the right distance away to be seen as polite but not awkward. James loved that skill orb. He didn¡¯t know which one it was, exactly, but he loved it. It removed a lot of ambiguity; and despite a helpful ongoing dose of antidepressants, James still did have that low-level panic every time he needed to determine exactly how far away someone had to be before it was impolite to hold a door open for them. ¡°I¡¯m not busy.¡± Kirk replied, trying to cover up his worry by sounding casual, closing the book he was reading. No, not book; manual. Something highly technical. James didn¡¯t even try to read the name. Krik was one of a handful of the Route Horizon cultists who had both survived the Mechanic¡¯s attempted apotheosis, and also chosen not to accept a memory wipe from Planner. He, along with three others, instead chose to accept the Order¡¯s form of restorative justice. Working mostly to secure and salvage the ruined city of Townton, the sandy haired and scarred man and his fellow ex-cultists did what they could to balance the scales on the atrocity they¡¯d been part of. Though in truth, that wasn¡¯t really the point. If the scales of justice were real, James was sharply aware that there would never be a way to tip them back. Thousands of people had been killed, from the actions of a dozen. That wasn¡¯t something you could work off. Instead, the point was¡­ well, about the same as how the Order treated their student aspirants. The point was to change the nature of a person. To bring them to a way of living, through conversation, education, compassion, and practical example, where they would never do again what they had done before. Where they were still themselves, but also someone else entirely. You couldn¡¯t undo the past. And it was all too easy to fall into the trap of thinking that punishing people for their transgressions was acceptable. Because it *felt good*. It felt good to hurt the people who had hurt you. But it didn¡¯t build the future they wanted to live in. James hadn¡¯t actually talked to Kirk since offering him a¡­ job? Place? English kind of broke down when you started making common use of new methodology for social structures; they¡¯d have to come up with something for this. Or find a blue orb that added new words. That sounded like proper Officium Mundi bullshit. Regardless, no matter how long had passed, Kirk recognized James right away, and it was clear from how tense he was under the bland look on his face. ¡°You¡¯re not in trouble, relax.¡± James said, looking around for a place to sit and eventually giving up and just planting himself on the edge of the remarkably sturdy coffee table between the couch and the fireplace. ¡°How¡¯re things going?¡± ¡°That could mean so many different things.¡± Kirk said with a sigh. ¡°Do you mean, in the city?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James shrugged and offered a smile. Kirk set the technical manual he¡¯d been reading on the couch arm next to himself. ¡°It¡¯s still a mess.¡± He started. ¡°Everything is¡­ kinda bad. Lots of rotting food, so it all smells kinda awful. A bunch of places where fires took out residential blocks, buildings falling apart when the road spikes give out, that sort of thing.¡± Kirk looked away. ¡°Lots of bloodstains everywhere.¡± ¡°You okay?¡± James asked softly. ¡°Nah.¡± The mid-forties man snorted. ¡°Course not. But who would be, right? Just a reminder every time we go out of how bad it was. Seems fair, right?¡± ¡°In retrospect,¡± James said as he realized something, ¡°it might be considered cruel to station you here. Do you want to go somewhere else?¡± ¡°No!¡± Kirk answered a little too fast. ¡°No, no. This is where¡­¡± James gave a small sad smile. ¡°This is where Horizon is, right?¡± ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± The word held a world of guilt. ¡°Man, you don¡¯t have to justify yourself to me.¡± James almost laughed. ¡°How¡¯s the dun¡­ the road, anyway?¡± ¡°Still sleeping.¡± Kirk said, excitement creeping into his voice as he talked about Route Horizon. ¡°We¡¯ve only been in four times; the necroads like to hang around the entrance so we have to be careful when we do it. But the inside is¡­ calmer. And without the old man¡­ without¡­¡± His voice cracked, and he clenched a fist, but he met James¡¯ eyes all the same. ¡°Without going in to sacrifice someone, there¡¯s just more time to explore. We¡¯ve been collecting map scraps and gears and a bunch of other stuff, and there¡¯s more out there than I ever imagined.¡± ¡°Glad to hear you¡¯re enjoying it.¡± James said earnestly. ¡°What was that about the necroads? They¡¯re still around?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. There¡¯s a lot of them. I mean, there¡¯s *thousands* of them. We used to fight them, when they showed up while we were out searching the city. But they kinda stopped. Some of them still watch us, and there¡¯s packs of them that go by the Horizon¡¯s portal, but I think a lot of them are hiding.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s¡­ something.¡± James rubbed at his chin. ¡°Okay. So, personal question?¡± ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°Do you get along with everyone here?¡± James asked. Krik gave a sheepish look. ¡°No?¡± He said, and then continued with a sigh. ¡°No. I don¡¯t. I¡­ ah, you probably don¡¯t want to know the specifics, but no.¡± It was an honest answer, and James appreciated that. Which was what he was looking for, really. ¡°Anything that could be a big problem?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, no.¡± Kirk shook his head vehemently. ¡°Even if someone annoys the fuck out of me, I¡¯m not gonna screw them over on a run. And we all know that.¡± He straightened his back, eyeing James like he was daring the younger man to challenge the small community here. But that wasn¡¯t what James was asking for. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°So, how are *you* doing? Honestly, how do you think you¡¯re doing, overall?¡± Kirk blinked. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m better.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ when I was in high school my friend and I stole a bottle of really, *really* bad vodka from a liquor store. And then drank it in, like, an hour. And a decade later, I could remember that, and I knew it was me, but all I could think was ¡®wow, high school me was a fucking moron¡¯. And now I¡¯m doing that again. I was a fucking moron, in so many ways. And I probably still am! But I¡¯m trying, man.¡± ¡°I feel that in a painfully real way.¡± James deadpanned. ¡°So, last question, with a little bit of a preface.¡± He took a long breath. ¡°The Order now has custody of three individuals responsible for a number of¡­ unethical things.¡± A mild understatement. ¡°They¡¯ve agreed, mostly, to something similar to what you did.¡± Kirk nodded. ¡°Good. Glad that worked out.¡± He said. When James gave him raised eyebrows, he just shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re not out of the loop down here. We get Order news! Also, half of us were there when you decided on the strategic approach to these twats.¡± ¡°Heh. Well, okay. This gets to my question.¡± James pressed his fingers together and arrowed them at Kirk. ¡°Would you be interested in being the guide for one of these people?¡± ¡°¡­Like¡­ an AA sponsor?¡± Kirk asked slowly. ¡°I¡¯m not actually sure how Alcoholics Anonymous works, but probably closer to that than a probation officer, which is what someone else compared it to.¡± James said. ¡°So ¡®a little yes¡¯, let¡¯s say.¡± Kirk tilted his head back, not thinking much before he asked in his firm voice, ¡°Why me?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯ve been there.¡± James said. ¡°Because you know. And also, more personally, because I think you¡¯d resonate with the feeling of wanting to explore something weird this particular person seems to have.¡± ¡°Do I get a raise?¡± Kirk asked. James acknowledged that the man was joking, but he had an answer prepared anyway. ¡°Yes.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯re gonna be moving to a pay scale *thing* determined by a base income modified by what responsibilities a person takes on. One of the perks of replicator wealth generation.¡± ¡°What, like¡­ universal basic income?¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s hardly universal. It¡¯s just anyone who¡¯s part of the Order. But yes, universal within our tiny sphere of influence.¡± James shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re getting sidetracked.¡± ¡°Yeah, that happens around here.¡± Kirk said knowingly. ¡°You don¡¯t need to answer now.¡± James said, pushing off the coffee table and standing up, swiping his coat back into a less ruffled position. ¡°And we¡¯ll be setting up a protocol for guides to meet with each other regularly and work to improve the whole process. So you¡¯ve got a week or two to-¡° ¡°Yes.¡± Kirk said, holding out a hand to stop James. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James glanced around, then shrugged. ¡°Okay, that was easy.¡± He said. ¡°Good. Good! Thanks!¡± James shook his hand, added Kirk to the relevant parts of the Order¡¯s discussion server, said goodbye, and made to leave. ¡°Yeah.¡± Kirk said quietly behind him as he left. ¡°Thanks.¡± _____ ¡°Thanks for inviting me for this.¡± Momo told James as she joined him in the dedicated experimentation basement. ¡°Though, you know there¡¯s, like, a party going on upstairs?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s Christmas.¡± James answered. ¡°Or Christmas adjacent. I dunno, I lost track of the day. And I¡¯ll go back up in a bit, I¡¯m just kinda taking a break from the noise right now. Uh¡­¡± He looked around the experiment basement. ¡°Merry Christmas, wanna do some magic?¡± It wasn¡¯t *really* the dedicated experimentation basement. They had a pretty hard time dedicating their basements to any one singular task. The Research basement was also where they kept their spatially folded medical wing, a garden, and their vault. The Response basement was home to a recording studio, a garden, and their private servers. There were two different basements set aside for full or part time residents of the Lair, and those¡­ well, okay, those were mostly exactly what they were. Though one *did* have a cavernous public bathhouse in it. Compared to that, the basement they hadn¡¯t really done much with yet was *practically* their dedicated experimentation basement. It also had a mech in it. A twenty foot tall asphalt construct supported by a collage of different dungeontech items, meant to be piloted by someone in an induced dissociation while a co-pilot kept them on track. It wasn¡¯t combat ready. Ideally it never would be. It was meant to be a telepad-enabled forklift. It also had at this moment, in amongst the various computer engineering projects and the small scale mockup of a space elevator, two long tables where James had piled a bunch of his own experimental nonsense. And now, in addition to James, it had Momo. ¡°I get that.¡± Momo said. ¡°It was kinda loud. Though we should be on the lookout for people sneaking down here to make out.¡± ¡°I put up a sign.¡± He said. Momo chuckled. ¡°I saw. Well, whatever, thanks anyway for asking me.¡± ¡°Yeah, of course!¡± James told her easily, looking up as she came in and tried to find a chair. ¡°This is really more your department than mine anyway.¡± ¡°Do you *have* a department?¡± Momo asked. Rapidly giving up on her search for a chair and just dropping heavily to the floor, swishing her bathrobe out around her legs as she sat cross legged. ¡°I know you don¡¯t hang out around Research much.¡± ¡°My brain is¡­ not good at that kind of thinking.¡± James admitted. ¡°I mean, I *could* be I guess. Like, I know it¡¯s a skill, and not just an innate thing. But I always get a headache trying to keep a bunch of moving variables in mind while trying to figure out what a random pencil does, you know?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t!¡± Momo cheerfully replied. James snorted. ¡°Sure. Are you comfortable there? You can have my chair, I¡¯m probably gonna pace around a lot anyway.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. I have magic bones or something.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Nah.¡± James gave Momo a disappointed sigh and a shake of his head. ¡°Alright, whatever. So! Got any insights for me on this, as our resident witch? Or should we just dive into making mistakes?¡± The ¡®this¡¯ that James was talking about was part of his current attempt to try to not be the least magically inclined person in the entire magical organization that was the Order of Endless Rooms. For the first time in a while, there was no crisis looming; no dungeons out of control, no shadowy groups trying to kill them, the government couldn¡¯t even *find* them, and it was¡­ quiet. Nice. And among all of that, James had realized that despite being the one who had probably eaten the most skill orbs, he had possibly the least firm grasp on how to make the best use of half the stuff the Order actually had access to. Momo, operating just on instinct, could make totems out of red orbs that could do stuff way outside half the actual literal spells James had access to. Dave could absorb twice as many blues as James could. And there were a half dozen people who had all found ways to make life of varying types beyond the one that James had the skill to awkwardly manifest. And he felt like he was falling behind. There was no other way to really frame it. He didn¡¯t have some desire to be the literal best at everything, James was keenly aware that he wasn¡¯t some predestined chosen one. But he acutely felt like he¡¯d spent so long running from crisis to crisis that he hadn¡¯t actually gotten the time a lot of the others had to just sit down and *screw around* with this stuff until he hit upon something cool. So he¡¯d acquired a pile of blue and yellow orbs, and an equal pile of random stuff that had been lying around in basement storage, and decided to take some time exploring his own understanding of magic item creation. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m a big fan of making constant mistakes.¡± Momo said, flopping back onto the smooth concrete floor, arms over her head. ¡°Also, I dunno what insights I¡¯d have for you, ya know? I¡¯m new to this too.¡± ¡°You literally make magic items all the time.¡± James shook his head at her with a baffled look on his face. Momo made a sputtering noise. ¡°Those don¡¯t count. Red totems are just lines that look good, and then I fuck around with the materials until they work right, and then I make them small.¡± She radically oversimplified her process to a useless degree. ¡°This is different! This is, like¡­ I dunno, this is weird.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m with you there.¡± James agreed, fiddling with one of the perfectly normal pencils that he¡¯d picked up for this. ¡°Also, aren¡¯t you *cold* down here? I¡¯m wearing a sweatshirt and this place is still chilly.¡± ¡°Purple!¡± Momo said simply. ¡°I divorce myself from the human feeling of being uncomfortable!¡± ¡°Some people might say that¡¯s unhealthy.¡± ¡°Not you though, mister ¡®I wanna be immortal¡¯.¡± ¡°Get your ass up and help me figure out what to do for a pencil.¡± James laughed. Here was where things got kind of tricky. In theory, both of them knew how this worked; you built an idea of what a thing *could* do, and then told the blue orb to make that happen, using a yellow as a kind of power source. From reading the notes other people had made, it seemed like it worked better the closer the outcome was to what the object was ¡®supposed¡¯ to do, if you didn¡¯t want it to fail. There weren¡¯t enough completed tests so far to get a good idea of exactly how things ended up when they failed, but that was part of what James and Momo were doing today. Momo grunted as she pulled herself off the floor, wiping a hand through her determinedly regrowing hair and stealing James¡¯ chair as he stood up to start pacing around the table. ¡°Okay, well, writing, obviously. Why not just make one that translates?¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°I am worried that won¡¯t work if I don¡¯t know the other language, honestly.¡± James said. ¡°What about just a font?¡± ¡°What, like, writing in Times New Roman?¡± Momo asked. ¡°Sure, go for it.¡± ¡°Okay. Here.¡± He handed her a pencil and a pair of orbs for herself. Momo looked at the objects she¡¯d taken without thinking about it. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Yeah, you too!¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯re testing here! And I¡¯ve got a *ton* of these things. So. Times New Roman. Let¡¯s go. We make it work, or don¡¯t, and then compare notes.¡± He grinned at Momo, who glanced up at him, and gave an eager smile and a nod back. Then he looked at the objects in his hands. And after realizing he didn¡¯t have a good way to balance three things with two hands, James set the pencil on the table, and held the orbs against it, and started trying to think. Picture what it should do. Build a model for a power. What did a pencil do? How did he want it to change? James took a deep breath as he started to come up with more and more questions for himself, and realized this was going to be a lot more thorough than just wishing for something to be magic. He let his mind wander down different paths. What did a pencil do? It wrote. It made marks. What did he want it to do? Well, make marks. But in different patterns. With the new secondary pattern of a font. Times New Roman, with its little sarif flourishes and thick-thin letters. Standardize the marks. Take what was written, and make it *this*. He pressed too hard, and a yellow orb popped in his fingers. [+1 Skill Rank : Agriculture - Soybeans - Soil Conditions] James opened his eyes, and frowned. Okay, a different approach. And a new orb. He closed his eyes again and took another breath. The pencil *wrote*. He wanted it to do that, but with this extra thing on top. But what if someone wrote badly? Well, fix it. What if someone wrote a typo? Ignore it. You can make typos in any font. What if¡­ he let himself go down a trail of different questions, putting together a list of different answers to dumb questions. And suddenly, something clicked in his head. Because James had run D&D games for people before, and this was *familiar*. He grinned idly as he added his growing list of answers to stupid questions to his mental model of what a font was, and his conception of how a pencil worked. Sometimes, he¡¯d correct or update a way he¡¯d phrased how the object worked, but he kept that core idea in mind. A pencil *wrote*. It *marked*. Everything flowed from that. And all he needed was for this object to understand that it had a task to do. His hands tingled with a soft dusting of an ethereal salt, and then a sudden lack of pressure. He opened his eyes, and saw the last bits of dust from the orbs trailing away. No notifications in his head, just an innocent looking untouched number two pencil, sitting there proudly. ¡°You done yet?¡± Momo asked with a casual air. James glanced over at her, to see her with her feet up on the table near the set of mechanical objects he¡¯d stacked up for later. A pencil twirled in her grip. ¡°Heh. See, I *knew* you¡¯d have an insight into this.¡± James said. Part of him felt like he¡¯d felt before; behind. *Not good enough*. But¡­ that wasn¡¯t how this worked, was it? They were a team here, and Momo being good at this just meant fewer points of failure for when something monstrous inevitably ate him. And also part of him was proud for making a magic item. ¡°Wanna test these?¡± He asked. ¡°Did you bring a pencil sharpen- okay you did.¡± Momo cut her self off as James slid an electric pencil sharpener across the table as much as it would easily move on the bumpy surface. ¡°You first.¡± She said. ¡°So I can look good!¡± ¡°Next time I¡¯m inviting the high schoolers and not you.¡± James threatened her with a snarky grin as he ran his pencil into the sharpener with a whirring buzz. Pulling it out when it was good enough to work, and pulling over a sheet of scrap paper. He quickly started writing random words on it, and rapidly found himself laughing. ¡°Okay, so¡­¡± He held up his work. A few words, written in a certain font. All of them *much* larger than he¡¯d meant. But undeniably what he was going for. ¡°The teacher¡¯s gonna dock you points if you don¡¯t turn in the essay at size twelve.¡± Momo told him. ¡°Oh, god, don¡¯t give me flashbacks.¡± James shuddered. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s try yours.¡± He said. Momo went through the same process. Sharpening, scribbling, and then looking. But when she looked up to James her expression was a curious one. ¡°Uh¡­¡± She shifted the paper over to him. Normal looking handwriting, though Momo¡¯s was obviously different from his and not just because of the font magic. ¡°That¡¯s weird. I *know* it¡¯s magic, what did it¡­¡± She trailed off, looking at the pencil in her hand. And then James started laughing. Because he¡¯d just looked at the pencil sharpener. And he turned it over so the warning label on the back faced Momo as he tried to get his giggles under control. The whole thing written in a rather specific font. ¡°Okay, so, in fairness, mine *did* get the size right.¡± Momo defended herself. ¡°Yes, very good!¡± James gasped out, his laughter renewing itself as Momo also cracked, and joined him. Eventually, the two of them got it out of their system, and refocused. ¡°Okay.¡± James said, wiping at his eyes. ¡°Okay, so. That¡¯s a good start. Now let¡¯s do it again. And see if we can get better, before we try the really weird stuff.¡± They repeated the process four more times, each time trying different mental nudges to how they were approaching it to try to see what would happen. For James, it was sort of like trying to find the ¡®correct¡¯ pattern. He was looking for the right way to do this, so he could hit that mark on demand. For Momo, it was more like making art with new materials. She was looking for the style that fit her best. Both of them made a few mistakes. Mostly mistakes, really. Out of eight more tries, James only got two more pencils working like he wanted, while Momo technically got four. Some of the failures - the ones that weren¡¯t just accidentally popping an orb - were fun though. The pencil that would *only* make lines that were within the outline of a letter of the proper font was¡­ almost spitefully without use. The one that started fires if touched against anything that was Times New Roman also seemed that way. Until Momo pointed out that James seemed like he was getting irritated with the mental exercise. And they started to put together that it wasn¡¯t really possible for a person to completely isolate their thoughts and turn them into objects to use. Emotion bled in, it seemed, as did idle thoughts and distractions. ¡°You know what this is mostly making me wonder?¡± James asked as he swept ashes off the lightly scorched table and into a garbage bag. ¡°How we have all these blue orbs?¡± Momo asked. ¡°Like, dude, do you have any idea how hard it is for me to get people to bring me reds? I basically have to source my own.¡± James refused to be sidetracked, but he had time for a small answer. ¡°We find hundreds of magic pencils that are about this useful, and they get turned into size one blues at a constant rate.¡± He said. ¡°But no, I¡¯m wondering¡­ well, actually kind of that. *Why* do we find so many weird fucking pencils? Why are there so many dungeontech items just lying around? This is fun and all, but we did just make a bunch of things that are basically useless except as benign looking smuggling methods to get blue orbs through airport security without anyone asking why they can see color on the x-ray scanner. How *bored* is the dungeon that it¡¯s churning these things out?¡± ¡°It¡¯s *gotta* be something other than boredom.¡± Momo spun the chair she was in around, going just fast enough in the swiveling seat that she knew she¡¯d be kinda sick when she stopped. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s trying to talk to us.¡± ¡°Momo half the pens explode in some way.¡± ¡°Maybe it¡¯s trying to talk to us but it¡¯s mad.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t really argue with that.¡± James snorted a laugh. ¡°Okay. Actually, this time, let¡¯s see if we *can* make a pencil that explodes.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± Momo dropped her feet, stopping her spinning and causing her to lurch a bit as the dizziness caught up. ¡°That seems like a terrible idea?¡± ¡°Okay, yeah. But I want to try something that just isn¡¯t pencil behavior.¡± James said. ¡°How about¡­ generating electricity or something?¡± Momo dragged her chair over to the table in short bursts. ¡°How about,¡± she suggested in a critical tone, ¡°something that can¡¯t kill us if we overdo it? Like, don¡¯t get me wrong, I know my rep around here for the brain damage and stuff, but come on. How about a pencil that flies?¡± ¡°I can still see that killing us, but in a much more avoidable way, so sure.¡± James agreed. Once again, the two of them went silent as they focused on making something that did what they wanted. For James, it was almost easier to imagine what flight meant, even accounting for the GM-mindset he was putting himself in; trying to answer expected stupid questions from players about how it worked in orbit and what counted as flying versus hovering. And when he thought he had a good idea of what a flying pencil would look like, he gave it that little mental push, and¡­ [+1 Skill Rank : Manufacture - Boxes - Cardboard] Momo swearing got him to look up, and he saw her holding one less orb having gotten similar results. ¡°Okay, weird.¡± James said. ¡°Why did that not work, but the other one did? I thought I was getting kinda good at it. Is my mental prowess only strong enough for fonts?¡± ¡°What were you thinking of?¡± Momo asked. ¡°When yours broke.¡± ¡°Answering dumb questions.¡± He said simply. ¡°Why, what about you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m mostly just sort of giving it a feeling, I guess?¡± Momo said. ¡°Like, I know what flying is. So I¡¯m trying to share that vibe.¡± James hummed. ¡°And neither worked.¡± He said. ¡°You know, we¡¯ve actually found a pencil before that¡­ I mean, it didn¡¯t fly, but it did ignore gravity.¡± He paused. ¡°I think Pendragon ate it, actually? I think. I can¡¯t prove that, but it would explain a lot.¡± ¡°Pen is absolutely impacted by gravity.¡± Momo rolled her eyes at him. ¡°Oh, *right*, we broke that one for an emergency!¡± James grinned as he thought back on one of the more straightforward fights for his life he¡¯d had. ¡°Good times.¡± Momo looked like she was going to say something snarky, but then she stopped. ¡°Hey, yo.¡± She tapped at the table rapidly, getting James¡¯ attention. ¡°What size orb?¡± ¡°From¡­ the pencil? Uh¡­¡± He tried to remember more than just the roughest outline of that day, what was now years ago. ¡°Probably two. Yeah, I wanna say two. It wasn¡¯t tiny, I remember that.¡± Momo threw up her arms, staring at him with an expectant look on her face that gradually slipped as James just stared at her, waiting for her input. Eventually, she dropped her arms and groaned. ¡°That¡¯s what Reed and the rest of the nerds are skirting around!¡± Momo declared. ¡°The farther it is from *being a pencil*, the bigger a blue it requires!¡± ¡°That¡¯s conjecture.¡± James declared with a dramatic flair. ¡°I learned that word from hanging around the nerds.¡± He added. ¡°Doesn¡¯t have to be! We¡¯ve got two of these.¡± Momo threw him a slightly larger blue, and the two of them got back to work. A deep breath. Visualization. Minutes ticked by as they silently formed what they wanted in their heads. James kept his mind as focused as he could, pictured what he wanted, and *pushed* the power he was holding into the pencil. And then the number two pencil in front of him greedily sucked up the orbs from his hands, and rocketed off the table so hard it nearly knocked the piece of furniture on its side. A tiny streak of yellowed wood shooting up to the tall ceiling overhead and impacting like a bullet. James was staring upward, open mouthed, when the orb from the now shattered item fell back and landed in his throat, leaving him sputtering. [+1 Skill Rank : Athletics - Catching] [Problem Solved : Spam email removed] ¡°That¡¯s not a problem that email doesn¡¯t already solve!¡± He shouted, rubbing the back of his hand across his tongue that felt weird from either the sensation of the orb bursting in his mouth, or from the spray of ceiling dust that had gotten in with it. ¡°Uh¡­ so¡­ I take back the thing about it not killing us.¡± Momo said. James glared at her, about to say something, but then noticed the pencil leisurely orbiting her head, turning in a gentle pinwheel motion. ¡°Yours, obviously. Mine works fine.¡± ¡°That actually looks really cool.¡± James grudgingly admitted. ¡°And yeah, it did feel different, didn¡¯t it? Like¡­ there¡¯s a little bit more *pull* from the bigger blues. I didn¡¯t get that that was a feeling from the orb itself.¡± Momo shook her head. ¡°Yeah, it honks, but humans don¡¯t seem to get magic without dungeon stuff. So anything like that is some kind of¡­ that.¡± ¡°Honks?¡± ¡°I got it from Sarah!¡± Momo cheerfully declared. ¡°It means it fucking sucks, but I can say it around kids and no one gets mad.¡± She spun herself away from James again, spreading her arms to the rest of the stuff on the table. ¡°So, what¡¯s next? Because I see you brought down some camraconda arms?¡± James perked up. ¡°I did, yeah.¡± He said. ¡°Though it¡¯s one of the original models that aren¡¯t very good? I just wanted to¡­ you know. See if we even *could* do something with this.¡± ¡°Because it doesn¡¯t have any kind of socially ingrained conceptual weight, like the abstract idea of ¡®a pencil¡¯ does?¡± Momo asked in a rapid voice. The sentence got a long blink and a tilt of James¡¯ head. ¡°Uh, no, because I wasn¡¯t sure if we could even figure this out. But it turns out it¡¯s a lot easier than I had expected, *sort of*, once you have the general idea down. Conceptual weight?¡± ¡°Yeah, like¡­ my totems do some weird shit sometimes where they¡¯ll inform you on¡­ not ¡®technicalities¡¯, exactly, but like, they can have trouble with new stuff. Especially dungeon new stuff, like the skulljacks.¡± Momo idly lifted and spread out one of the mechanical arms from the camraconda-sized backpack, getting a gentle whirr of the servos inside as she did. ¡°Like they don¡¯t know things that aren¡¯t available knowledge or something. I¡¯ve been sort of thinking of it as them tapping into a collective unconscious, because everything else is bullshit, so why not that too?¡± ¡°Ah, and if that applies to blue items, then something like this wouldn¡¯t have anything to¡­ I guess ¡®hang an effect on¡¯, basically?¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, I get that. But also, the idea of prosthetic limbs isn¡¯t new? So I feel like we can *probably* make it work, even if that is a condition.¡± Momo grinned. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m up for trying! What do you want it to *do*?¡± ¡°¡­Hm.¡± James walked around to the other side of the table, sliding their pile of font experiments to the side. ¡°Work better? No, no. Be¡­ part of the user¡¯s body. Be more fluid, grab properly, maybe an improved lift strength?¡± ¡°Too many things.¡± Momo shook her head. James grunted assent. ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± They¡¯d tried on one of their early tests to make a pencil that did two different things, and it just hadn¡¯t worked. Blue orbs could make literal magic, but only one twist of reality at a time, it seemed. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s keep it simple. Grabbing.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± Momo held up a tiny sliver of a blue orb. ¡°You or me?¡± ¡°You are objectively better at this so far. Though, you *did* so far set the most things on fire, so¡­¡± James trailed off, leaving Momo to flip him off with one hand, and push the colored spheres in her other down onto the assembly of arms. James had been closing his eyes, so he hadn¡¯t actually seen Momo¡¯s process. But now, watching, he noticed that she didn¡¯t seem nearly as meditative about the whole thing as he did. Momo *scowled* while she worked. Sort of. It wasn¡¯t an angry scowl, it was more the look of someone who was making faces while they worked because ¡®what shape is my face in¡¯ was so far down their priority list that it got ignored. A minute ticked by, then another. Momo shifted a few times, and James started pacing, trying to do anything that wasn¡¯t interrupting. A few times, he caught small muttered words from her. And then, Momo clicked her tongue, shoved her hand all the way down to the mechanical device, and let out a yelp of either triumph or shock. It was hard to tell. ¡°Was that a good barbarian yawp, or a bad one?¡± James asked. ¡°What?¡± Momo glanced up, confused. Then her mouth solidified into a thin line. ¡°Oh. It¡¯s fine. I just think I screwed something up at the end.¡± ¡°Well, let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got.¡± James rotated the mechanical backpack slightly, and lifted one of the arms. ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel any different like this.¡± He commented as Momo did the same on her side. Then he poked at the three pronged gripping apparatus that capped off the arm, and froze. Or, more accurately, he just poked it, and didn¡¯t pull away. Because his finger wouldn¡¯t come off it. ¡°Uh.¡± James looked over to Momo, who was holding one of the grippers in her hand. ¡°James halp.¡± She shook her arm furiously, like she was trying to get free, but it didn¡¯t change. ¡°Okay, well, we¡¯ve learned something today about literalism.¡± James nodded calmly, and ducked under the table, pulling the arm he was attached to and also by association Momo over the surface as he grabbed at his trusty problem solving device. Coming back up, he hefted the crowbar he¡¯d seized, and hammered it four times into the backpack, and the motor and control assembly it held. On the fourth hit, something cracked enough that the magic considered the item ¡®broken¡¯, and like the naturally sourced dungeontech they¡¯d found, the entire object crumbled into dust, leaving behind only the orb on the table. ¡°Good. Good.¡± James nodded. ¡°That still works. Hey, actually! Do you think we could use this to get rid of highly toxic materials? Or would that just leave toxic dust?¡± Momo rubbed at her palm, opening and closing her hand. ¡°You can try that one yourself. Or buy me a hazmat suit.¡± ¡°We have hazmat suits.¡± James told her as he swept the dust into the garbage bag to mix with the ashes of their earlier failure. ¡°There¡¯s, like, two in Research. Momo you *live* on that floor, how do you not know all this?¡± ¡°I sleep a lot!¡± She defended herself. ¡°Whatever. I screwed that one up. Is there anything else you wanna do? We¡¯ve got one orb left.¡± ¡°I mean, I *wanna* say we should go find a Status Quo item and turn that into something weirder¡­¡± James said. He wasn¡¯t even finished with his sentence before Momo was out of the chair and jogging down the hall yelling over her shoulder that she¡¯d be right back. ¡°No, no, Momo! I don¡¯t wanna¡­. We¡¯re gonna blow something up!¡± James stared at the darkened hall that his science buddy had just run down, and sighed. ¡°We¡¯re gonna blow something up¡­¡± he repeated to himself, quieter, but with a resigned laugh anyway. _____ By the end of the next day, Nate¡¯s team had stripped the Alchemist¡¯s ¡®business¡¯ mansion and all of their known stockpiles for everything of value. The fact that they had a business mansion, and then their own individual personal use mansions, made James a *little* sick at the sheer waste of it all. But by this point, the knowledge that capitalism was an exponentially unfair system of exploitation wasn¡¯t exactly new, so he shrugged it off. There were more solvable problems right now. A lot of the personal wealth of the Alchemists had been lost with the crippling of their organization and the deaths of many of their members. They had kept their operation an open secret, but they weren¡¯t protected by any informorphs as far as the Order could determine, and so when they¡¯d died, mundane systems had taken over and things like estate lawyers and tax law had kicked into effect. James was fully prepared to get into a stand up fight with a dragon, but he was less willing to get in the way of the IRS. Not *now* anyway. But personal wealth aside, their true power wasn¡¯t money, whether they acknowledged that or not. No, the thing that made them dangerous, and the thing the Order had more or less fully plundered, was four things. First, and strangely least worrying, the orrery. The Alchemists had called it a room, but it wasn¡¯t really. It was just room-sized. An assembly of polished iron arms and wires and spheres. Moving it had been a nightmare, as had finding a space for it in the Lair, though eventually it had settled in the experimental basement near where James and Momo had been running their blue tests the day before. The problem was¡­ no one knew how to use it. The orrery was so *flagrantly* magical, and every Alchemist who was currently under their care knew what it did *in abstract*, but none of them knew how to make it work. In theory, it showed relative strength of different organizations. It could, if you knew the way to do it, target geographical locations, filter by policy, focus, or even size of the organizations you wanted to sort through. And through careful study, you could build a picture of who had influence where, and what they wanted. No one had a fucking clue how to make it work. Some people were on it though. Second was the Alchemist¡¯s stockpiles. Casks, sometimes *barrels*, of potions that had been produced and stored away for a rainy day. Or ones that had simply not been taken to market yet. It was¡­ too much. And yet not enough. The logistics of big numbers reared its head again; they had now enough of the exercise potion to give everyone a year of heavy physical conditioning in under a week. Hell, they could do that for a thousand people, maybe two. But then¡­ they¡¯d be out. Stockpiles weren¡¯t production. And without the ability to rapidly replace the potions, they were useful, but not reliable. Still, though, the one that could purge lung cancer that they now had forty thousand doses of was something that they were already planning to filter through their growing network of medical contacts. Third and fourth together were¡­ well, the ability to replace potions. A tree that grew fruits of golden liquid that could be processed into magical elixirs. And, to go with that, the collective research of the Guild of Alchemists. *Decade* of notes, test logs, and experiments. Not to mention the combined understanding and instincts of their pseudo-prisoners. It was¡­ disappointing. Their collective knowledge was disappointing, there was no other way to say it. James had frowned as he¡¯d skimmed through the entires as Research had diligently added them to the Order¡¯s databases. There wasn¡¯t *enough*. Decades of notes, and this was all they¡¯d come up with? Thirty working potions, half of which were barely useful, and the other half of which had taken years of iterating to get to their current potency? That was it? The key to the why and how of it was his old nemesis, capitalism. The Alchemists had, at the end of the day, been a business. Their research and development was exactly what was needed to stay as a leader in their field. And when your field was ¡®the only provider of arcane elixirs¡¯, then it wasn¡¯t hard to stay on top. Monopolies bred contempt and stagnation. Why work to make better healing potion? After all, the health care industry already took the profits from *that* cow. Instead, just keep selling an exercise supplement to models and athletes, and cash in. Why make a potion that could actually make someone permanently smarter? You¡¯ve already got the one that politicians and lawyers pay out the nose for just to read faster for a night. It was pretty telling that when Alchemists Red and Nile were given a tiny amount of room and resources to experiment, they had developed a cure for lung cancer within three years. The Alchemists could have done that decades ago, but it¡­ wasn¡¯t profitable. Not compared to what they already made with the fruit. The Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. Alternately, the Sap of the Tree of Knowledge, though it was still technically fruit, as far as anyone could nail down the taxonomy of something that was obviously not mundane in origin. It was, on its own, nothing. Eating one wouldn¡¯t even taste like anything. But the liquid inside it was an arcane catalyst that could turn *anything* into something wondrous. Or lethal. Or just bad. Their notes were full of failures. The tree itself had left James laughing for about ten minutes when he¡¯d seen it. He¡¯d been imagining some kind of proud elm tree, golden light glittering through leafy green branches, towering over some central room in the Alchemist¡¯s headquarters. And he had, to be fair, been *close*. It was certainly close to an elm tree in appearance. It was also a bonsai, and maybe two feet tall. ¡°I am starting to see,¡± James commented to Nate, ¡°why they might have had a hard time producing large quantities of their potions.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t touch that lamp.¡± Nate told him, arms folded, not indicating which of the three grow lamps around the tree he actually meant. ¡°It likes the lamp.¡± James hadn¡¯t been about to touch anything, and now he doubly wasn¡¯t. ¡°Reed has already given me fifteen requests for fruit to start experimenting with.¡± He said quietly. ¡°Because, you know, we¡¯ve got some *weird* stuff in here. You wanna be the one to try a potion made out of this, and the Shaper Substance?¡± ¡°Fuck off.¡± Nate said bluntly. ¡°I¡¯m going back to work. Enjoy your tree.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a meeting tomorrow!¡± James called after him. ¡°To figure out what we¡¯re doing with this!¡± ¡°I know, I¡¯m catering it!¡± Nate yelled back. James shook his head, staring at the green leaves dancing under the warm lights of the sunlamps. ¡°I don¡¯t think he knows what his actual job is.¡± He said to no one in particular, getting side looks from a few of the dozen Order members bustling around the area sorting their intake of materials or just looking at the tiny magical tree. His phone beeped, and he looked down to see his alarm going off; he had to go get ready for a sweeper run through the Sewer. He nodded and pocketed his phone, turning to head to the armory, before he sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I know what *my* job is either.¡± James muttered to himself. Chapter 193 ¡°If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now¡± -Baz Luhrmann, Everybody¡¯s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)- _____ ¡®¡¯Good evening everyone.¡± James once again stood on a stage at the back of what was, basically, a converted warehouse space. Though this time, there¡¯d been some more time to plan, and some more effort put into setting up the seating in a way that was useful. They also had cameras this time, too. Actual studio quality cameras, being used to record and also stream the meeting to anyone who didn¡¯t want to be in a crowded room today. The room was also less crowded than last time. The lack of a potential lethal conflict, and of any sort of pressing emergency, reduced turnout somewhat. Possibly because there were just fewer people in the building; a lot of the newer members of the Order actually did have homes and families, and even a portion of the camracondas had started to find places to be outside of this one building. Which was nice. James appreciated it. And there were just some people with jobs to do, which James *also* appreciated. Also there were just a bunch of people in Townton. There was still more work to be done there. The possessions of the survivors had long since been recovered and returned, but there was a lot of city to look over, and human constructions had a habit of catching fire if left unmaintained for too long. Cleanup of the damage would take more than just a few people, but the people down there were making a start where the Order could expand into when they were ready to start really putting their magic to the test. The end result was that the fifty or so people who had arrived to take part as the audience for this discussion got much more comfortable seating. And this time, the pipeline of suggestions had been streamlined. Instead of spending half their meeting checking their laptops or phones, the representatives on the stage were making full use of the Order¡¯s population of interns to filter and pass on relevant information and immediately useful ideas from the audience. Hopefully it would work out. They hadn¡¯t tried it yet, but James was optimistic. He had no idea what this would look like on a larger scale, but for them, right now, it was a good way to keep everyone involved. The crowd today was different, James realized. Not just different in composition, though he did notice that at least one or two of the potion people were here, and he could have sworn he¡¯d seen Keeka lurking around somewhere, the ratroach staying separate from everyone else even as he was in a crowded room . But more, that it was different faces. Humans and camracondas that he didn¡¯t know, hadn¡¯t met. Oh, he *recognized* them. He knew that several of these were people who had joined Response or Recovery under the umbrella of ¡®a job¡¯. He knew some of the camracondas were the ones who took a long time to break out of their fear and aversion to people, or they were the new ones they¡¯d been stealing away from the Office. But it didn¡¯t change the fact that mixed in with people like Morgan and Alex who he¡¯d talked to, worked with, fought with, and considered friends, there were a lot of new faces. All looking at him. He felt a smile flicker over his face. This could be something that sparked anxiety. But instead, he decided he was pretty happy with how the Order was going. New people was exactly what they wanted. And public speaking was the *one thing* that had never scared him. ¡°Alright, for anyone new or who needs a refresher, the four of us¡­¡± he turned and looked at the people on stage, counting. ¡°¡­Seven of us are going to be discussing our strategy for the next few months. If anyone in the audience has a question or comment, either put it in the relevant part of our server, and we¡¯ll address it when appropriate or at the end, or, if you don¡¯t have a phone or laptop on you, signal one of the interns and they¡¯ll come get it from you.¡± He motioned to the small group of volunteers, one of whom waved cheerfully. James couldn¡¯t help but give a full smile at the enthusiasm. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ve got a few things on the agenda for today, so let¡¯s get started, and then everyone can go run free, unshackled from the need to think or talk about our problems before we make poor choices on how to solve them.¡± ¡°You were absolutely not supposed to say that part out loud.¡± Sarah told him as he settled into the chair next to her. ¡°Hush.¡± James said, grin still in place, looking around at the others on the stage. Sarah was here, obviously. She wasn¡¯t representing a particular division of the Order; instead she was simply one of the people who a lot of people had asked to be here. Functionally, she was filling the literal role of a representative. On the other side of her from James, Texture-Of-Barkdust sat as the primary representative of Recovery, the camraconda coiled in the basket seat in such a way as so her brain could be wired into the laptop in front of her comfortably for maximum efficiency. Past her was Marcus, for Response. The young man who had originally been recruited just to be a dispatch operator having stuck around, and gotten good recognition from a lot of people for his calm spirit, was now here as something like one of Harvey¡¯s lieutenants. Marcus was also a good example of one of their noncombatants; the kid had no interest in fighting, or dungeon delving. He wanted to work where he¡¯d be useful *now*. James respected that, and so did a lot of other people. James also respected the constantly growing tableau of pride flag pins on Marcus¡¯ jacket. It was comforting. Next was Reed, making a rare appearance from the Research basement. Though that was a little uncharitable; he actually spent a lot of time all over the place. The Order had a few empty lots in the middle of nowhere now where they tested orange orbs or - apparently - space elevators, and Reed did a lot of work on both of those. He also did work looking into statistical modeling of dungeon effects, identifying magic items, and generally keeping an eye on and leading the rest of the Research department. Reed was currently surrounded by Planner, the infomorph being the other nonhuman person on stage. An octet of tentacled limbs with a ghostly green surface that somehow still seemed rubbery, markings like sketched notes trailing down them. Planner was here to provide legal and logistical insight, and also the unique position of the infomorph side of living that any of their long term plans might impact. And JP, for the first time at one of these meetings in his actual role as head of their rogue division. James still did consider JP his friend, even if the two of them hadn¡¯t actually had a chance to hang out in what felt like forever. ¡°First thing¡¯s first.¡± JP started them off. ¡°The Alchemists.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°What are we doing with the potions?¡± ¡°I¡­ no, dude, that¡¯s not¡­¡± JP gave Reed a sideways look, before giving a small shake of his head. ¡°We need to talk about what we¡¯re doing with the surviving members.¡± James cut in. James was here for a lot of reasons. One of them was to sort of guide the meeting, but the other was to make sure that stuff stayed aligned with their long term ethical goals. This seemed like a good time to do that. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this.¡± He told JP. ¡°There aren¡¯t foolproof options, but this is an actual chance to put some ideas into action.¡± ¡°I can think of *one* foolproof option.¡± JP opined. ¡°Man, don¡¯t do that.¡± James¡¯ mirth was gone now, replaced by a quiet sadness. ¡°The threat they represented is gone now. They get a chance to be something else. Therapy, community service, community integration, these are the things we¡¯re leaning on. We¡¯re not fucking killing them.¡± ¡°People deserve second chances.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust added with a hard note in her digital voice. JP practically glared back across the table at James. ¡°We¡¯ve done this before.¡± He said. ¡°We absolutely have not!¡± Sarah rebutted adamantly. ¡°We let people go before. This time we¡¯re¡­ I mean, we¡¯re kinda just a big community prison? But a different one than society at large.¡± She glanced at James. ¡°Is that right? Is society a prison?¡± ¡°As your lawyer I advise you not to answer that.¡± Planner said. And everyone paused and turned to the manifested infomorph. Had that been a joke? James shook it off. ¡°The point is, we are keeping an eye on them, because they are dangerous, yes. Just like half the people in this room. And¡­ uh¡­ the vast majority of people on this stage. But, like, the goal is to build a system where restorative justice is the default, and not just an accident. That means we actually need to try things, and now is an opportunity to do that.¡± James said with a shrug, noticing an intern passing Sarah a message next to him. ¡°If it¡¯s a deciding factor, a lot of people, including the potions, would prefer James¡¯ thing over the spontaneous execution?¡± Sarah said. ¡°Also, hey, stop being such an asshole? We¡¯re going right into being unprofessional today, but, how have you been friends with us for this long and still think it¡¯s okay to kill people?¡± JP opened his mouth like he was about to say something, and then realized halfway through that for the first time, he didn¡¯t actually have a comeback. No snappy one liner or retort, he was just¡­ angry. And he wasn¡¯t quite sure *why*. Part of him wanted to chalk that up to some kind of outside infomorph influence, but it didn¡¯t take more than a heartbeat to realize that he was just making an excuse to himself. Sarah - *Sarah* of all people - had just called him an asshole. That was¡­ not a good sign. So he took a breath through his nose, and instead of what he was going to spin, just said, ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. Sorry.¡± The look on James¡¯ face more or less made up for having to exercise humility. ¡°So¡­ potions?¡± Reed chimed in again. ¡°Because boy, do we have some potions.¡± ¡°I actually have a question about that.¡± Marcus said, looking down at the notebook he¡¯d brought along. ¡°Uh¡­ so, the muscle regeneration one is the one that works for exercise, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Reed confirmed. ¡°But *not* external source injuries. And do not ask me how it knows.¡± Marcus nodded, having long since gotten used to accepting statements like that at face value. ¡°Sure, right. Well, it would be really helpful for Response, but we¡¯re worried about integrating it into our actual long term training program or operations? Just because it seems like it¡¯s really finite. Can you actually make more?¡± Reed had a pained look on his face, like he¡¯d just been told that he¡¯d have to return his Christmas gifts. ¡°Uh¡­ I mean¡­ we were going to¡­ it was¡­¡± He grimaced, then sighed. ¡°Yeah, we can make more.¡± He admitted. ¡°The formula is easy, and it actually seems like it¡¯s optimized for volume.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t do that thing.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust chided him, swiveling to face Marcus. ¡°The exercise potions are useful, but are among the lowest known value conversions for the Liquid of Information. Do not rely on a steady supply.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Marcus made a checkmark on his book. Then squinted, and looked back up at the camraconda at about the same time as a muffled series of laughs went across the audience. ¡°Sorry, the what?¡± ¡°The Liquid of-¡° ¡°Sap of Knowledge.¡± Reed dove in. ¡°And yeah, she¡¯s right. Which is actually what I wanted to get confirmation on, and sort of direct some funding and focus toward. The tree grows *about* a fruit a day, though the sizes vary, and I¡¯ve got a *lot* of requests on different things to try. If we¡¯re not interested in making this our business, we get a lot of room to experiment, and if we can devote more time to finding patterns, we can take more targeted shots on effects we need.¡± He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head, the unrestrained poof of curly hair on his head bobbing as he did so. ¡°Also we have a lot of weird stuff around here people want to turn into potions?¡± ¡°Yeah, I bet we¡­ yes, Intern Brian?¡± James said, his attention catching on the kid who was taking incoming messages from the audience. The lanky student, having gotten his attention, pushed a button in time with James getting a message on his phone, which appeared to be a link to a spreadsheet. He looked over it for about five seconds before looking back up at Reed. ¡°Okay, yeah, I think about half the people sitting there watching us have already submitted ideas.¡± ¡°Great, cool.¡± Reed rubbed at his forehead. ¡°We should have done this in secret.¡± He muttered. ¡°Hah, no.¡± Sarah barked out. James shook his head and got them back on track. ¡°Okay. Reed, what do you need?¡± ¡°Funding for a few supplies, and for lab rats. Alternately, if someone could make us a xenotech cup that could tell you if a liquid in it will kill you, that would be nice? I don¡¯t really want to use animal testing, but I really, *really* don¡¯t want to use person testing. And a lot of the recorded potion tests the Alchemists did were actually not good for whatever drank them.¡± ¡°Who did *they* test potions on?¡± JP asked, that cold anger sparking again in his chest. ¡°Also lab rats.¡± Reed said. ¡°Mostly. Uh¡­ mostly. We can talk about that later, if you really wanna know.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°If there¡¯s no objections, preliminary vote; all in favor of going ahead with consistent potion experimentation?¡± Everyone at the table raised their hands. Or, in Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s case, a green circle of cardboard stapled to a stick. _____ The blender hummed as it ran for about three minutes on the pur¨¦e setting. The fruit from the tree - no one was going to call it by the ¡®official¡¯ name, especially not while they didn¡¯t have another ¡°the tree¡± to reference - reduced by efficient mechanical action into a golden slurry. So far, it didn¡¯t appear to make any difference whether the ¡®rind¡¯ of the fruit was included. Which was, itself, notable. Because literally every other ingredient did matter, and that included ambient dust. They ran their tests now in a clean room, in hazmat suits. But the chunks of non-liquid material from the fruit were *entirely* neutral in potion formula, which was bizarre. It did make it a lot easier to process them, though. No need to use an eye dropper to get every last spot of fluid when you could simply turn it all into a consistent mass. The blender clicked off. The material inside was carefully moved into individual treated containers, to minimize loss. One of them was handed off and taken to be added to the current experiment. A heating element brought a beaker of expired whole milk to just under a boil. A sterilized mechanical grinder powdered a plastic straw. Half a dropper of camraconda venom was dosed out. And exactly one standard tablespoon was measured of table salt. Early on, someone had suggested using a cauldron. For aesthetics, and as a joke. As it turned out, while most of the equipment used didn¡¯t actually matter, what the ultimate ¡®final product¡¯ was brewed in *did*, and so the cauldron sat on a shelf in the clean room along with a few other options. This time, the stainless steel soup pot was selected. Milk and sap first. Stir by hand for eight revolutions. Add salt. Stir, until it begins to thicken. Add venom, cease stirring, dust top with straw powder. Let cool to 90F before stirring again, stir until liquid is consistent in texture, and it starts to thin. Anyone could stir this one. For some potions, the species of the maker mattered. Those ones were far easier to identify, because they always directly affected biology in some way. It was hard for camracondas though, because no one had been able to make them magic arm rigs that actually worked ¡®as them¡¯, and so they had to stir and process ingredients with just their mouths and tails. Which was, at best, unsanitary, and at worse just impossible in some cases. And that was it. Eight doses worth of¡­ this. The substance needed to be strained before going into vials, or it would cause short term nerve damage to the digits. But aside from that, it was perfectly safe. They even knew the effects. But every batch, especially when the recipes were being tweaked slightly to try to refine them, *always* got most of its doses tested on lab rats first, before moving on to sophont trials. This potion would make it so, for the next two hours, any living, growing plants the drinker made contact with would grow at a vastly accelerated rate. They¡¯d been *absurdly* lucky to figure that one out from one of their volunteers who also worked in the gardens. For at least four potions, they knew they were perfectly safe to drink, but not why anyone would actually want to. They may as well just be bad tasting overpriced health drinks, without the information on exactly what it was they did. This version was a modification, so they needed to make sure it was safe first, but if it still worked, whether it got stronger or weaker would be another data point on the ongoing search for the truth in the patterns of reality. ¡°Done.¡± Alchemist Red said, stepping back from the table, holding the rack of vials. ¡°Are you through?¡± She asked Davis in a curt, but not unfriendly, tone. Davis didn¡¯t glance up from where he was monitoring the temperature on the distillation process for his own work. ¡°No.¡± He said, desperately wishing he had a way to itch his scalp through the hazmat suit. The Alchemists had, among other things, potions that encouraged hair growth. And as the Order didn¡¯t really have any plans to sell them to the Alchemists¡¯ old customers, he¡¯d used a dose himself. As a punishment for the previously-balding man¡¯s vanity, his head itched, and he was trying to ignore it by staring at a thermometer. It ticked up by one degree, and he hit a button on the heating element, allowing it to start cooling. ¡°Okay, yes.¡± Inside, a potion that would probably dissolve the kidneys of anything that drank it sat. They would not be ever coming close to testing that on humans. Probably. It might not. But it did seem like even small steps away from known recipes could make them shockingly dangerous. But they needed to know anyway. Outside of the clean room, the two of them pulled off their suits and set them aside to be attended to later. Alchemist Red wore clothing that was butting up against formal wear underneath hers, while Davis simply wore a thin white shirt and shorts. He knew he was getting older, knew his body wasn¡¯t what it used to be. But life with the Order had taught him two things; that the casual shame in how he looked was a poison he needed to purge from his system, and also that his body was what he made of it. Literally. A combination of exercise potions, purple orbs, and being one of the people who had been high on the list to get a Akashic Sewer textbook had left him in the best shape of his life. He¡¯d played football in high school, and he was pretty sure that himself now could wipe the floor with himself at what felt like his peak. ¡°Good work today.¡± He said to Red as they made their way toward the storage racks for completed but untested potions. ¡°Hmh.¡± The woman replied. She wasn¡¯t, Davis had learned, *mean* exactly. She was just acutely aware of the fact that she was, truly, a prisoner. But she had a passion, wanted to be doing this work, wanted to be expanding their knowledge, and so the Order made it happen. Her name was Amelia. She hated being called that, so Davis called her Red. It was still hard to not append ¡®Alchemist¡¯ to the start of her name whenever he thought it, but technically, she wasn¡¯t an Alchemist anymore. She was just¡­ What was she? Floundering, he knew that much. He¡¯d been in a similar boat, when he¡¯d been dragged out of hell and given help without any question of repayment. Though Davis supposed he hadn¡¯t actually killed anyone. Red had. By accident, omission, or direct action, he didn¡¯t know, and he didn¡¯t need to know. That was between her and her therapist. What he knew about her was that she had ideas about their work. She had experiments she wanted to run, she spent her time reading and rereading the papers they wrote, checking the numbers, monitoring the lab rats and striders. She didn¡¯t use short sentences and clipped language because she hated anyone. If anything, out of all the Alchemists Davis had met - and he had met all three survivors - she was the *least* likely to ever be a problem again. All she had ever wanted to do was cure cancer and make people smarter and be praised for it, and now she¡¯d been told she could do exactly that as long as she played nice. How do you render a criminal harmless? Give them what they always wanted. Just do it the right way. Davis almost laughed. If you¡¯d told the version of him that had voted for Bush a decade ago that he¡¯d end up thinking that prisons were obsolete, he probably would have gotten legitimately angry. But actual results were harder to argue with, unless you were an idiot. And if there was one thing he didn¡¯t feel like being today, it was stupid. He stifled the laugh and slid the potions onto the rack, double and triple checking that the label on them was correct, before he and Red swapped sides and checked each other¡¯s work against the database of experiments they were running. Months of this work, and they¡¯d only scratched the surface. This was a lifetime worth of study. Two lifetimes. Ten. A hundred. Years and years stretched out before them, of things to learn and problems to eradicate, all with the tiny golden glimmering fruits of a particularly strange tree. ¡°Lunch?¡± He told his charge. ¡°I¡¯ll even stay quiet while you stare at comparison reports based on stir speed.¡± Red, alchemist, looked at him with one raised eyebrow as he rolled his shoulder and stretched out the muscles that always seemed more confined than they should be in the clean room suits. Eventually, she huffed a breath through her nose. ¡°Yes, lunch.¡± She said. ¡°And then live trials for the last production run. And then filtering, and¡­¡± she trailed off as Davis gave her an expectant look. ¡°And then, a legally mandated rest.¡± The woman said bitterly. ¡°Where I am required to waste my limited remaining life instead of doing real work. For my ¡®well being¡¯.¡± ¡°Good, you remembered.¡± Davis turned a short sentence back on her. ¡°I¡¯m thinking pool. We¡¯ve got a pool table now, finally, and Nate has some weird homebrew beer he¡¯s been sharing. And *then* you can get back to not wasting your life, yes.¡± ¡°I suppose I can amuse myself with¡­¡± Red trailed off as they made their way to the stairwell. ¡°Hm. Brewing. It was never time efficient, but now¡­¡± Davis shook his head. Red had adapted to her new life well, but work-life balance would take a lot more work than ethical behavior, it seemed. _____ ¡°That pretty neatly takes us to the question of ¡®what are we doing with all the cancer cure potion¡¯.¡± James didn¡¯t need a schedule to remember *that* was an important part of the meeting. He glanced over at Reed. ¡°Any thoughts?¡± ¡°We can make more.¡± Reed admitted. ¡°Probably. If the research notes are real, and the alchemist helps.¡± ¡°What about the stockpile we ended up with?¡± Planner answered the question in a voice that sounded like a dozen scribbling pens. ¡°Forty thousand one hundred and eight doses.¡± They said. ¡°Assuming the research logs we have taken custody of were correct, it would be possible to produce an additional three hundred doses daily. The ratio of sap usage is relatively low, as is the size of a usable dose.¡± ¡°It¡¯s human-specific.¡± Reed added. ¡°But so far, as far as we know, only humans get lung cancer? Also it can fix more than just cancer. It can¡¯t heal missing lungs though. As far as I know.¡± ¡°Three hundred a day is a lot of miracles.¡± Marcus pointed out. ¡°I¡¯d vote for that over the exercise potions, if you decide not to do more experiments?¡± ¡°Same.¡± JP added. ¡°Exercise without the potions is just a matter of time. Cancer without the potions is¡­ well, also a matter of time, isn¡¯t it?¡± He scratched at his arm in a small gesture that James was pretty sure he didn¡¯t notice he was doing. But James had known JP a long time, and he remembered his friend losing his dad to the thing they now had, as Marcus said, the miracle cure for. Sarah raised a hand. ¡°What about duplicating the potion? Is that more efficient than the porps?¡± ¡°Porps?¡± James asked her quietly. ¡°Purple orbs!¡± Sarah said. ¡°Like how the yellows are skorbs, or the-¡° James started talking before he could hear any other new and terrible words for the Office¡¯s magic. ¡°Yeah, so, duplications.¡± He loudly cleared his throat. ¡°I¡¯ve already talked to Anesh about this. We can, in theory, do both? The por¡­ the *purple orbs*, the ones that cure cancer, don¡¯t just get rid of it; they sort of make a person long-term immune. That¡¯s kind of an order of magnitude bigger than a one-shot potion. So we don¡¯t want to completely transition to potion production. But the case that we use for stacking up purples could be waterproof without much effort? And potions keep basically forever if they¡¯re stored at room temperature in the dark. So, we just alter our duplication case to be a perfectly sized box that fill the empty space with purifier, put a spout on the side outside the copy zone or something, and then drain it when it duplicates.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Though we *can* just make a whole thing of lung purifier? But that¡¯s not specifically an upgrade. I haven¡¯t done the math.¡± ¡°I will begin doing the math.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°It¡¯s a quarter ounce per dose.¡± Reed commented. ¡°How much could you actually fit in the gaps?¡± ¡°This may come as a shock, but orbs do not stack well.¡± James said dryly, and almost jumped when the audience he had forgotten was there laughed. ¡°So we could probably get, like, twenty or thirty per copy? Is that right?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust swung her neck around to face him. ¡°No.¡± She said. James looked at her with raised eyebrows until she added. ¡°It would be more.¡± ¡°Good to know.¡± He said. ¡°But this doesn¡¯t answer the original question of ¡®what do we do with the stock of forty thousand doses¡¯. Does anyone have any suggestions?¡± ¡°Give it away.¡± Sarah and JP said at the same time. Then, breaking solidarity, they both started talking at the same time and it got difficult to follow either of them. James raised his hands. ¡°Hold up!¡± He said. ¡°You¡¯re both making the same point, and no one can understand it! We¡¯re already giving away the cancer cure orbs, is there any other idea aside from just adding what we now have of this new solution to the mix?¡± ¡°We should change how we do it.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°How so?¡± Marcus asked before James could. ¡°Like, isn¡¯t there a whole team for it?¡± ¡°We have two official personnel for that project¡±. Planner¡¯s scratchy voice came in. ¡°And three hospitals in agreement, that assist.¡± Marcus widened his eyes. ¡°Uh¡­ wait, how many of those do we actually give out?¡± ¡°Two to three hundred a week.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust offered. ¡°Then we should expand.¡± Marcus said with an assured nod. ¡°I can get Harvey in on this; Response actually has a roadmap for future growth. Or we could just get James to hire more random people and set them on the problem.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± James protested, and was ignored. Off to the side, he caught sight of Sarah being passed a note from one of the filter interns, which she read rapidly before looking up. ¡°Hey, here¡¯s a suggestion; why don¡¯t we recruit from the people who go through the program?¡± She asked. ¡°Like¡­ why don¡¯t we give jobs to cancer survivors?¡± Marcus asked slowly, looking around at the others at the table. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound¡­ uh¡­ like a great idea?¡± ¡°No, no, I can see where this is going.¡± JP hummed. ¡°You know who hates cancer? People who¡¯ve had cancer. Like, I¡¯m not saying we do the James-hires-randomly thing that keeps inexplicably working-¡° James crossed his arms and huffed. ¡°As long as you acknowledge it works.¡± He muttered. ¡°-and that keeps getting us full members of the Order. I¡¯m saying we do what Response does, where there are some people who are members of Response, and are focused on only its goals. If they eventually switch to something else, that¡¯s fine, but they¡¯re not here to be knights, they¡¯d be here to help with one thing for as long as they wanted to, and that would be it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like we can¡¯t afford to hire more people.¡± Reed said, getting a pair of disagreeing hisses from Texture-Of-Barkdust and Planner, both in different tones. ¡°What?!¡± He threw up his arms. ¡°We¡¯re one week away from being able to put a hole in the total yearly platinum use on Earth! Don¡¯t tell me we¡¯re still dealing with money problems!¡± ¡°Platinum is not easy to move.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said, not explaining which version of ¡®move¡¯ she meant, but probably meaning both. ¡°Honestly, if nothing else, we could just do it as a short term volunteer thing. Just help out for a month or two, then move on. Enjoy your extra life.¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°But I would like to pay them in some way.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll need to fold Justine and¡­ Harvey? Wait, is the other guy¡¯s name also Harvey? Did I not notice that?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Whatever, we¡¯ll fold them into Recovery, just make it their dedicated job?¡± ¡°His name¡¯s not Harvey, you just think that¡¯s a professor name, and he looks like a professor. And is a professor.¡± James patted Sarah on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll let them know tonight, and we can get this rolling. Because we¡¯ve got a lot of extra cure for them to get to distributing.¡± ¡°Any strong objections from the audience?¡± JP asked, looking out at the crowd. No one said anything, and there was an air of excitement over the room. ¡°All in favor?¡± He looked back at the stage, raising his own hand before everyone else. James raised his hand with everyone else. ¡°Stop taking my MC job.¡± He muttered. _____ Jo Hyori walked through the halls of a community medical facility near the border of Sierra Leone, secretly wishing that he would at some point take the advice that business suits were not appropriate dress for everywhere he went. It was 32 degrees, and while the air was dry, his forehead was damper than a swamp. Most of the rest of him probably was too, but he decided it would be unprofessional to think too hard about how much he was sweating. He didn¡¯t feel comfortable here. He was an outsider to this country, this community, and this building. So far outside his comfort zone he wasn¡¯t sure if he was still on the same planet. He¡¯d lived his whole life in Seoul, grown up there, gone to school there, worked there, worshiped there. Nearly died there. Three months he¡¯d been dying. Lung cancer. Caught too late to be easily handled. Surgery had been off the table, so he¡¯d started chemo. The worst part wasn¡¯t that he was dying. He hadn¡¯t been afraid to die at the start. The worst part was feeling himself break. First physically; he was tired more often, and then every day, and then even when he slept. The pain started, and never stopped. Breathing hurt. And then it wasn¡¯t just physical, it was mental too. Constant pain kept him from thinking clearly, made him angry, irritable, unable to control himself. Sometimes, the painkillers would work, and for a brief window, he¡¯d realize how bad it had been. Then it was back to the pain, and the exhaustion, and the inability. The worst part wasn¡¯t when his body broke, or his mind. It was his soul. Hyori, at the age of forty one, had been raised Protestant. Had been one of the pastors at his church for twenty years. Had been faithful, devout. He¡¯d *believed*. His wife and daughter had found renewed faith with his illness. They¡¯d passed the test, as it were; his slow slide into death had pushed them to believe more, to pray harder, to refuse to be broken by the ordeal. He could respect that, somewhat. But for him, it had just left him feeling empty. Hollowed out by the pain, the hunger from not wanting to eat, the exhaustion of not being able to breathe properly. Every other part of him was empty, and in that moment, he realized that his faith was not something that had its own reserve. It had always ever been drawn from the rest of him. And he had nothing left to give. Three months ago he¡¯d been dying. Two months ago, he wasn¡¯t. A chance meeting with a stranger that was probably no chance at all. A broad wall of a Russian woman who had appeared in his hospital room one night, and demanded to know if he wanted to live. Hyori had briefly thought this was God offering him one last out. A temptation that he could prove his belief by refusing. But¡­ he did want to live. He didn¡¯t know why yet, but he did. So he drank the tiny sip of foul cherry liquid the woman had given him, had a coughing fit that brought doctors running, and never seen her again. Two weeks ago, he¡¯d picked up the work where she left off. His coworkers included bizarre alien life, and ghosts. And yet his job was familiar; information management. Processing hospital records, finding people who most needed their help. And making a few deliveries. He¡¯d asked how they had all these hospital records, and been told that they had a program that stole them. He¡¯d asked if that was secure, safe, or ethical, and been told that was a good question, and the answers were yes, yes, and hopefully. If anyone *could* steal the records from *them*, then they could get them easier from the hospitals themselves. And now he was in Sierra Leone. Farther from a big city than he¡¯d ever been. Melting inside his suit, getting strange looks from everyone he passed. But no one stopped him. No one ever did. Hyori found the room he was looking for, and entered with a knock. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± He said to the woman inside, before realizing he¡¯d spoken in Korean. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± He repeated, switching to Mende. One of the eight languages he¡¯d learned the easy way, through the actual, honest magic that he¡¯d just been handed. The woman on the bed stared at him with suspicious eyes. ¡°You aren¡¯t the doctor.¡± She said accusingly. ¡°No. I am not.¡± Hyori answered with a nod as he set his case down on the foot of the bed, trying not to feel the sympathetic pain of knowing what this poor woman was going through. She was different from him in every way. Different country, different color, different gender, different language, different dress. But she was in a hospital that smelled the same as the one he¡¯d lived in before his false death. And her eyes, tracking him with suspicion and angry, held the same soul-breaking pain that he was so familiar with. She didn¡¯t say anything, and so Hyori spoke instead. Words he¡¯d practiced and a feeling he didn¡¯t need to, easing him out of his anxiety at being somewhere new and into the routine of solving a person¡¯s pain. ¡°You have large cell carcinoma.¡± He said. ¡°Untreatable here, you¡¯d need to travel to Port Loko to have a chance.¡± ¡°Your accent is terrible.¡± The woman said, turning away from him and staring at the far wall. ¡°Yes, I was given the language, not the experience.¡± He nodded softly. ¡°I could use English, if you prefer.¡± Hyori waited, but she didn¡¯t answer him, so he moved on. ¡°This will fix your lungs.¡± He said, holding up the small hard plastic vial of liquid he¡¯d brought out of his case as the woman whipped her head back to glare at him. She snorted. ¡°Nothing can fix my lungs.¡± She said with a bitter anger. ¡°I am going to die, but I won¡¯t be conned before I go.¡± Hyori smiled. He¡¯d said something similar. ¡°There is no cost.¡± He said, setting the vial on the tray next to her bed, careful not to disturb the mostly clean sheets. ¡°Nor expectation. This is a gift.¡± ¡°A gift of a miracle?¡± The woman didn¡¯t stop glaring at him. ¡°No one gives those gifts. Ever.¡± ¡°We do.¡± Hyori said, meeting her eyes. The woman made to open her mouth again, but stopped. She looked at him again. Actually looked at him, like he¡¯d learned to look at people. And saw something in his eyes that he knew would never go away. ¡°You may drink it, or keep it, or share it.¡± Hyori said. ¡°It is a gift. But it will cure you.¡± He snapped his case shut. ¡°I apologize, but I must go now. I wish you well.¡± Hyori turned, and walked out of the room, doing his best to ignore the question yelled after him. He was down a hall and around a corner before he heard the woman coughing. Perhaps they¡¯d meet again when his department needed more help, he thought with a smile. They were, after all, expanding again next month. _____ ¡°Okay, what¡¯s left?¡± James said. ¡°Planner?¡± The infomorph gave a vibrating hum. ¡°Discussion of expanding skulljack use to something common. Following that, I believe we have one good question from the audience to address.¡± A few people filtered out of the crowd; the rough outline for this meeting had been posted, and there were some people who really were just here to keep up on the Alchemist stuff. Which was fine; James knew they had a tendency to hit tangents a lot, but they should try to make it as easy as possible for everyone to be informed. Sarah was practically bouncing in her seat as they moved on. ¡°The skulljack thing!¡± She tapped the table between them. ¡°Okay, so, basically everyone who has one of the things is already doing the thing where they¡¯re skipping actually listening to my podcast and just sharing memory files, right?¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°I don¡¯t think I have to answer that.¡± JP said defiantly. ¡°Yes.¡± James, Marcus, Reed, and Texture-Of-Barkdust all said in unison. Along with a good chunk of the people sitting around the stage. ¡°No.¡± Planner added. ¡°But only because this body does not support it.¡± Sarah¡¯s face rippled with purposefully exaggerated consternation. ¡°Well, at least some of you are honest.¡± She said. ¡°Okay, so, we¡¯ve spent the last¡­ uh¡­ decade or so, I guess? A while, anyway, living with the skulljacks.¡° ¡°It¡¯s been two years, tops.¡± JP interjected. ¡°We need to stop being afraid of using them for more things.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Even me. Especially me! The memory file sharing thing is actually super cool, and we should lean into that. Make sure it¡¯s safe, and then make it common. Make it a part of our little collective culture. Even if it¡¯s just for skills.¡± ¡°Actually, on that note,¡± James raised a hand to ask a question, ¡°can you share yellow orb skills via the skulljacks? I¡¯ve been curious about this. I know they transfer over if you form a fully linked mind with someone, but I don¡¯t know if you can just teach someone something specific.¡± ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m talking about!¡± Sarah said with a beaming smile. ¡°We should know that!¡± Marcus leaned forward on his elbows with a nervous grimace on his face. ¡°Ehhhh, okay, but¡­¡± he started, then stopped, not sure quite how to phrase this. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to say this but, ¡®safety¡¯?¡± He spread his hands. ¡°Those things are real dangerous, and I¡¯ve seen how easy they spread. There¡¯s a *ton* of crimes that¡¯re gonna happen when those get out to the general public, you know?¡± ¡°We do know. We¡¯ve had this conversation before.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°We have been lax in preparing.¡± ¡°Yeah, I actually did hire engineers to start solving the security problem.¡± James said, turning to face Reed. ¡°And then those engineers became delvers, gardeners, and mech designers.¡± Reed leveled a finger at James, despite the embarrassed flush on his face. ¡°Okay, first off, this is what we¡¯re all talking about! You don¡¯t hire people for one job, you hire *knights*! Also, *you asked for the damn mech* so don¡¯t blame my engineers!¡± ¡°If we budget you funds, will you personally hire normal programmers and engineers to solve this problem?¡± Planner asked. ¡°I would rather solve the problem than place blame.¡± James smiled happily. ¡°That feels good to hear.¡± He said softly. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± Reed said. ¡°I¡­ guess I kinda just forgot, with everything going on. I¡¯m on it?¡± ¡°Cool. So, as to Sarah¡¯s question¡­ well, yeah, it would be super useful if we could save memory files to be downloaded by anyone who wanted to learn something, Matrix style. But I actually do have a concern on that.¡± James said. ¡°Show of hands everyone here, even you lot,¡± he addressed the few dozen people still in the audience, ¡°how many people have gotten a memory recording of Sarah¡¯s podcast, and felt like it was¡­ different?¡± He raised his own hand first. And, slowly, a lot of other hands and camraconda affirmative signs went up. Even Sarah¡¯s own. ¡°Hey, hang on.¡± JP said indignantly, pointing at Sarah. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the thing.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°Memories aren¡¯t just information, it¡¯s personal. We can¡¯t download a textbook like a yellow orb does, we share *our* idea of a thing. Maybe that¡¯ll be different if we¡¯re sharing dungeon skills, and we *should* try that, but that might make it a bad idea to make this a large scale thing? Like, outside of it being Art.¡± ¡°Body differences also might complicate.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust added. ¡°We should test it though.¡± ¡°Oh, absolutely.¡± James said, and most people nodded. ¡°But Marcus isn¡¯t wrong. They *are* a risk, and I¡¯d really like make sure we can keep from accidentally creating a whole new axis for assault charges.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ll get some people.¡± ¡°And I can get some testing volunteers from Response teams.¡± Marcus said. ¡°I mean, yeah, I¡¯m worried about it, but a lot of people still want skulljacks.¡± He shrugged and sighed. ¡°May as well make it an official thing, right?¡± ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve been meaning to ask. Is there anyone abstaining from getting a skulljack for personal reasons, or because they don¡¯t like the idea of connecting to other people or something?¡± James asked. ¡°Sarah, I assume you know this.¡± She nodded. ¡°I do. And there are. It¡¯s a personal choice.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, I agree.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m just worried about the good ol¡¯ cyberpunk problem of creating a standard you can only reach through augmentation, pushing people to alienate themselves from their own bodies.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I mean, I wasn¡¯t worried about that. But¡­¡± he held up his phone ¡°at least four people already have expressed that they are, in some way.¡± He set the device with the open chat server back on the table, ignoring the exasperated look from the intern who was going to pass that exact information on to him in a minute. ¡°But then¡­ don¡¯t we run into exactly that problem with the dungeon stuff?¡± He said. ¡°That the rewards set higher and higher standards as they get focused into people? Yeah, everyone knows.¡± Marcus said blandly. ¡°It¡¯s kind of hard not to.¡± JP added. James frowned. ¡°I mean, we¡¯re trying to do our best to spread it out.¡± He said. ¡°But yeah, I know it¡¯s a problem. Especially as we get more non-delver members.¡± ¡°I mean, that¡¯s kind of why everyone¡¯s fine with it.¡± Marcus said. ¡°Response teams getting armory packages that keep them safe makes sense, same with delvers or rogues or whatever. Basically anyone who¡¯s gonna be in constant life threatening danger, it makes sense to try to¡­ uh¡­ not let them die?¡± He shrugged. ¡°So it¡¯s *logical* and shit, but it does still feel kinda bad to think that if I want the fun purple orbs I have to actually do the life threatening thing.¡± He finished. ¡°This would be solved in part if we could share skills.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°Is it a dystopian nightmare if the skulljacks are free?¡± She asked James. ¡°¡­I¡¯ll get back to you on that.¡± ¡°It would also¡± the camraconda continued, ¡°allow others to understand us.¡± She said ¡®us¡¯, and meant her species. The particular frustrations and issues of being a two hundred pound seven foot long half-organic snake in a world built for humans. There was a general agreement among the camraconda population that they didn¡¯t want to have their own culture. They didn¡¯t want to be a species separate from the Order. They wanted to be *here*, and *this*. But that didn¡¯t make it any easier that they lacked opposable thumbs. Even the two ratroaches that were part of the Order¡¯s ranks had thumbs. ¡°There¡¯s non-skulljack options, too!¡± Sarah added. ¡°They just take more resources, kinda? Like, the relationsticks allow for literal actual power sharing, which is really wholesome and stuff. And we can make ¡®class¡¯ copies of the Sewer¡¯s textbooks, which lets us spread that around a lot more.¡± Planner gave an approving noise like rustling a sheaf of papers. ¡°Yes, the textbooks. My species can use those. It would be interesting to try.¡± ¡°Wait, hold on.¡± JP tilted his head. ¡°Your species, like, assignments? Or infomorphs in general? Because I¡¯m still waiting for some kind of problem to come up due to how navigators are different from authorities or something.¡± ¡°¡­I will seek answers and return them to you.¡± Planner said. JP held out a hand. ¡°To be clear, I also think you should get your own magic? Like, just to make sure that no one misquotes me on that.¡± ¡°Uh, actually, are infomorphs not already magic?¡± Marcus asked. ¡°I kind of assumed¡­¡± That question, Reed answered with a shake of his head. ¡°They¡¯re magic in the same way your hands are magic. It¡¯s impressive that you have thumbs, but if you gave someone else thumbs,¡± he jerked an indicative thumb at Texture-Of-Barkdust, ¡°then they¡¯d know it¡¯s just a normal type of body.¡± ¡°Right but Planner is a ghost octopus who can eat schedules?¡± Marcus rattled off the pseudo-question. ¡°Right? Sorry if this is offensive Plan, I just¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°You are a mass of primarily carbon who can eat flesh by melting it inside yourself.¡± Planner responded in a dry scrawl. Marcus looked down at his hands, then sort of spaced out as his gaze drifted to the far wall of the warehouse they were in. ¡°Okay, well¡­¡± he said slowly, ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to add to that. Sorry. I¡¯m also fine with you getting more magic then. And I might skip dinner?¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said, trying to wrap this item up. ¡°Obviously, we need to be looking for more ways to share power equitably across our membership. We can make that a constant thing, and I don¡¯t think we really need to vote on it right now. We can start putting together a roster for who¡¯s on deck to get a new textbook or whatever else we¡¯ve found, especially since those are small enough to copy sometimes and one person can¡¯t easily use more than one or two. But that said, all in favor of starting to test memory files for the purpose of sharing skills? We can work out the exact issues of body autonomy and security later, I¡¯m just talking about within the Order, as we are now.¡± The vote was more mixed, and there were a few more questions from the audience that they handled about requirements and access. But ultimately, that vote passed too. _____ Clutter Ascent was growing. James wouldn¡¯t exactly say the dungeon was growing *up*, because he didn¡¯t know what the barrier between child and adult even was for a dungeon. Or if that analogy worked at all. What he was sure of was that he had to walk a lot farther to get to the pillow fort this time. The path becoming¡­ not denser, but more cultivated. The clutter more purposeful, the paths more designed. The narrow trail he followed through the furniture, garden tools, and boxes of ancient crumbling tax forms, had gone from being a straight line where he mostly had to worry about tripping on something to a winding maze where dead ends and open clearings threatened to turn him around. There wasn¡¯t *much* maze, really. There was only one clearing, and two dead ends that he ran into. And the dead ends had both stopped at cabinets that were clearly placed separately from everything else. He¡¯d tried one of them, and found himself once more plunged into sensory deprivation until he could solve the ¡®puzzle¡¯ of what scene he was supposed to imagine. This one was a coffee shop during a cool evening. He opened his eyes to an open cabinet and a single small stick covered in carved markings. When he finally made it to the spot deeper into the dungeon where the Order¡¯s ¡®base¡¯ was, he¡¯d been a little surprised by how many people had been there, how busy it had been. Sarah was reading some kind of book while a clump of dense fog orbited around her head. Anesh was hanging out, supervising Rufus and Ganesh as the two of them played with the strange chimera creature named Fredrick, along with a pair of new life forms that had been made by the Order that looked an awful lot like Pendragon had as a ¡®baby¡¯. A couple of people were sweeping the area, doing some cleanup and basic organization, one of them the child care specialist James remembered hiring what felt like a century ago. And a couple people just seemed to be¡­ relaxing. Just relaxing. Enjoying the ambiance. Playing a card game and talking and so obviously calm. In a dungeon. James loved this place. He waved at Sarah as he walked in, kissed Anesh on the way by, and stopped by his target toward the back of the open ¡®room¡¯ that was this lamp lit collection of blankets and couches. ¡°Hey Deb.¡± James said to the woman as he approached. She looked up from where she was rearranging a bookshelf. ¡°James.¡± She said, with a small smile. ¡°How¡¯re things?¡± ¡°Oh, good.¡± He said. ¡°Sorry to bother you on your day off, where I can¡¯t help but notice you¡¯re still working¡­¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t count.¡± She said with a defiant smile. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m on call.¡± James snorted, but didn¡¯t contradict her. She was technically right, but they also had expanded their medical staff, and Deb was more or less freed up to do whatever she wanted. Which¡­ tended to be continuing to study for her nursing certification exams, which she said were coming up. Apparently she could legally use experience with the Order as hours toward the requirement; James wasn¡¯t sure why they qualified, legally, but he suspected either JP or Karen or both had a hand in it. Instead, he just held up the small black rectangle he¡¯d brought with him, along with the cable and adaptor that just so happened to fit into the port of a skulljack. ¡°Well, you and Anesh were both on the list of volunteers for this, so I figured I could catch you both at the same time.¡± He said. ¡°Want to see if I got it right this time?¡± ¡°Ah, new memory file?¡± Deb half asked, perking up. She and James were on much better terms these days; possibly because she¡¯d had a long talk with her partner about expectations and personal risk, but also possibly in part because James had stopped taking Frequency-Of-Sunlight into active fights. At least, for the last four or five months. He was absolutely sure he¡¯d test their friendship again that way in the future. Or maybe he¡¯d just ask them as a pair, and avoid that particular problem. Deb continued, ignorant of his internal train of thought, ¡°Well, I suppose we have time. Is here a good place?¡± ¡°It¡¯s specifically swordfighting.¡± James said. ¡°Again. Still trying to get it right on something mundane before I try making Office skill copies.¡± He¡¯d been trying to successfully make a skill shareable via skulljack for a *while*. Months, by this point. It wasn¡¯t literally the only thing he did, James did have a life after all. Even if he spent a lot of it delving, or recovering from delving. The problem that the Order was running into, when it came to making memory files that could teach something complex, was that it *actually was complex*. You had to put a lot of focus into hitting all the little idiosyncrasies, all the base understanding that would help with the corner cases, and counterintuitively into not making the weave of memory too tight. If you didn¡¯t leave enough gaps, the human mind would process it once, nod contentedly, and then put it in a box. And that wasn¡¯t how people learned. That was how people crammed for tests where they wouldn¡¯t need to know the information two days later. You needed the memory you shared to be able to make connections to the rest of the person you handed it to. For them to be able to integrate the experiences and thoughts into themselves naturally, without thinking, and without just letting it sit forgotten and unused until it was forgotten. Weirdly, it was *close* to a problem the yellow orbs had. Though those didn¡¯t ever decay or go stale if left unused; they were always there when you touched on them. Even if you could forget you knew how to build a chair from scratch when you didn¡¯t build chairs that often. James was one of eight people who¡¯d managed to make bad memory files. And hopefully, if this worked today, he¡¯d be one of three able to make a *good* memory file. He and Deb collected Anesh, and James handed each of them a wooden practice sword, moving out of the pillow fort to the semicircle of open floor in front of it, standing among the dust dancing in the eternal sunsets coming through four different windows and four different angles. Both of them took a minute to separately transfer the file from the hard drive to their personal meat substrates. Their brains rapidly absorbing the increasingly familiar file type through the skulljack connection. It was, importantly, a *different* kind of fencing than Anesh already had a skill orb for. But even then, it was part of the test. And then, they raised their practice swords, smiling at each other with a familiar expression that James realized looked oddly out of place on his boyfriend¡¯s face. The two of them moved. Lunge, parry, two strikes deflected off each other, shifting footwork in the same direction, and then a strike that would have caught their open flanks if they hadn¡¯t dodged at the same moment. The improvised duel sped up as they gained confidence in each other¡¯s ability to defend, strikes coming faster. And then it stopped being a matter of just skill, as Deb leveraged her strength and Anesh tried to use his reach. And then James felt himself slow down, as Anesh took a little of his speed. And then, just when Deb seemed like she was getting tired, James felt a tug in his chest and behind his eyes, and she launched back into it reinvigorated. The wooden practice swords clacked together another three times, before the one Deb was holding cracked in half, a part of it splintering off and tumbling to the floor. Both of them instantly freezing as the fight became far less safe and less practice. ¡°Well!¡± Anesh panted. ¡°That was cool!¡± ¡°It worked!¡± Deb exclaimed. ¡°And also that was super fucked up!¡± ¡°What, the part where you learned how to fence in six seconds?¡± James asked. ¡°Or the part where it felt like you actually did the thing Sarah and I can do and drained sleep out of me through the bond?¡± He held up his hand, tapping the branded circle on his finger that tethered him to one of his best friends. ¡°No!¡± Deb turned to face James, leaning forward on her knees and panting, raising the arm with the broken sword to point at Anesh. ¡°The part where your boyfriend is hot!¡± Anesh turned a deep coppery red. ¡°What?¡± He stammered out. ¡°I mean, you are.¡± James said easily. ¡°Yeah!¡± Deb said. ¡°And a lot of your practice doing this comes from him, and now *I* remember it, except I also have all the times that you thought his eyes were cute whenever you crossed guards!¡± She leaned the sword against her leg and deliberately did not look at Anesh. ¡°It¡¯s *really weird* and I feel like this is not great!¡± ¡°Shit, I¡¯m really sorry.¡± James said honestly. ¡°I did not actually mean to do that. I didn¡¯t even realize I put that into the file.¡± Anesh dropped his arms to his sides. ¡°I didn¡¯t even realize¡­¡± he trailed off. ¡°I tell you you¡¯re cute all the time!¡± James exclaimed. ¡°Well I thought it was metaphorical!¡± Anesh retorted. ¡°Not literally a distraction when we¡¯re sparring!¡± ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve changed my mind. This is adorable.¡± Deb said. Then, after a brief pause, widened her eyes, ¡°Wait, did *I* change my mind or did you?¡± She pointed at James. ¡°Oh hell, I dunno if I like this anymore.¡± James sighed. ¡°Yeah, this is not what I intended. Obviously emotional bleed is going to be a huge problem. If it¡¯s any consolation, you can ogle my boyfriend without reservation though.¡± He said. And then before either of them could utter the protests they were obviously going for, he added, ¡°I¡¯m actually more concerned about how Deb tapped into a bond that she doesn¡¯t have?¡± ¡°The only bond I have is with Sarah.¡± Deb said. ¡°For sharing temperature, not sleep. Did you actually feel me take from you? Maybe it was something else.¡± ¡°Try it again.¡± James said. Deb scrunched up her face and focused, before letting out a breath and dropping her shoulders. ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± Sarah¡¯s voice came from the entrance to the blanket fort. ¡°That¡¯s my fault.¡± She said. Everyone glanced over at her, and she held up the book she¡¯d been reading. The strange, weird, impossible book the dungeon had made. ¡°I felt it too.¡± She said. ¡°Felt¡­ the transfer thing?¡± James asked. ¡°Yeah. From you, to Deb. Through me.¡± Sarah added. ¡°Here, try it now.¡± She cracked open the book, and looked down at it, getting quickly lost in its shifting pages. James reached out, and found that he absolutely could. He could feel Deb right there, in addition to Anesh. And he could give or take speed from Anesh, but *sleep* from Deb. And not just sleep either, but something else too¡­ But it wasn¡¯t *just* them either¡­ ¡°Sarah¡­¡± He started to ask. ¡°What¡­ exactly¡­¡± She snapped the book shut with a thump of strange paper. ¡°I knew there was something magic about it!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°Now I know! When I¡¯m reading it, it expands the reach of my bonds!¡± She pointed at James, then Deb. ¡°You and I share sleep, you and I share heat. Deb, to me, to you! Two steps, not one!¡± ¡°Then all those other people I can feel out there as sources¡­¡± James said. ¡°Wait, wait, hang on. There were, like, thirty people!¡± He looked at Sarah with an incredulous stare. She sheepishly tucked the book under her arm, and held up both her hands. And then let go of the purple orb effect that let her recolor her skin tone. Her hands, which were absolutely covered in the circular brands of the Attic¡¯s relationsticks. ¡°Oh.¡± Anesh said slowly. ¡°Uh¡­ I just had a thought.¡± He said. ¡°Is it that Sarah lets us turn one person into a superhuman through the power of friendship?¡± James asked quietly. Anesh gave a single laborious nod. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve now also had that thought.¡± ¡°I like this thought.¡± Sarah said. ¡°When did you even open all of those?¡± Deb asked. ¡°I make a lot of friends!¡± Sarah answered. ¡°Also how¡¯d the test go.¡± ¡°Fine!¡± Anesh and Deb answered at the same time with different tones, before looking at each other, and then rapidly looking away. Sarah stared at them, then slowly looked over at James. ¡°OOoooooookay!¡± She said. ¡°Soooo¡­ that¡¯s ominous, and also hilarious. Anyway, wanna come have some leftover cake and help me read a story to the dungeon and also the new dragons and also a raincloud and also¡­¡± ¡°Sarah you can just ask if I want to help you with storytime.¡± ¡°I could, but this way is more fun!¡± She said. ¡°And then after you can show me how to make skills. And we can keep making ourselves more and cooler.¡± She grinned at him. And suddenly James realized, anyone getting a skill file that Sarah made would probably have a somewhat brighter view of the world. And he didn¡¯t know if that excited or scared him. _____ ¡°Okay, what¡¯s left for today?¡± James said. ¡°And hopefully no more big questions, this has kind of run longer than I intended.¡± ¡°You always say that.¡± JP said, taking a drink from a glass soda bottle he¡¯d manifested on the table. There was, at this distance, no way for James to know if that soda was completely unique to this reality, and that was a fun feeling. ¡°Planner, I¡¯m gonna assume you¡¯ve already scheduled meetings like this every¡­ two weeks?¡± ¡°Three is expected optimal.¡± Planner responded. ¡°Karen and James have suggested a rotating panel of representatives for the time being. Everyone keep appraised of your personal messages.¡± Sarah raised a hand briefly. ¡°This actually reminds me that I got summoned for jury duty last week. I keep meaning to bring this up, but¡­ what are we?¡± With raised eyebrows and a cheeky tone, James started to answer. ¡°The Order of Endle-¡° ¡°That¡¯s a good question.¡± Marcus cut him off this time, and James gave an exaggerated pout that he quickly dropped when he realized he was goofing off a bit too much in front of a lot of people who did actually look to him for real decisions. ¡°Are we a non-profit, or a business?¡± ¡°We are a people.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said simply. ¡°As James says. A new society, and culture.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s cool and all,¡± Marcus slowly continued, ¡°but there *is* a government that we¡¯re sorta surrounded by. What do *they* think we are?¡± ¡°Either terrorists or contractors.¡± JP answered. And *that* got a few concerned words from the audience. And from Marcus. ¡°I mean, they can¡¯t *find* us, so it¡¯s sort of moot.¡± ¡°Some of us actually have apartments, JP.¡± Reed said with a sigh. ¡°And this *does* bring up something; we cannot just assume we¡¯re gonna be able to take out anyone that tries to mess with us. We need more security than just hiding and hoping whatever infomorph lives in our head is enough to stop someone from breaking into our apartments and taking our stuff. Or lives. Or whatever.¡± James sighed. ¡°We could reopen communications with the FBI?¡± He offered. An intern rapidly hurried onto stage, and started muttering to JP, who then looked up. ¡°Uh¡­ a lot of people kind of want to know why we stopped talking to the FBI at all.¡± He said. ¡°And, again, good question. James?¡± ¡°They suck.¡± ¡°Good answer. Care to clarify?¡± JP rolled his eyes. James sighed and turned to face the broader audience, deciding to stand and pace while he covered this one. ¡°For those that don¡¯t know or are new here, the Bureau representative we had here for a while was planning to attempt to kill some of us and steal a lot of our stuff, on the grounds that we were out of control and dangerous.¡± He paused, idly cracking the knuckles on one hand. ¡°Personally, I have a problem with all of that. Starting with the fact that their idea of control isn¡¯t working to keep people safe or happy, and continuing to the murders. And then focusing on the murders. I don¡¯t think I can stress enough, that there were murders planned.¡± He sighed, and nodded at the group assembled. The camracondas generally just took him at his word, but he saw doubt written on the faces of some of the humans. ¡°The FBI isn¡¯t universally evil or anything. But they¡¯ve got a lot of problems, and answering to them is the kind of thing that could twist our organization into something we do not want to be. Though I *think* we¡¯re under a temporary truce.¡± He said. From the middle of the audience, Alanna¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°You should probably check on that!¡± She called up to the stage, and a chorus of agreement came with her. James laughed. ¡°Yeah, I can do that. In fact, I¡¯ll do that after this is done. I¡¯m sure someone will take my call.¡± He said. ¡°But back to the question of ¡®what are we¡¯¡­¡± He turned back to the temporary council. ¡°Any suggestions? We¡¯re sort of a government, sort of a charity, sort of an environmental agency, sort of a culture, and sort of a lot of other things. What are we, to other people, though?¡± ¡°I suggest we focus on government.¡± Planner said, perhaps a little predictably. Reed nodded, wrapped within their ghostly arms. ¡°Yeah, I can see that. Especially if we plan to start going forward with city building now that we¡¯re adapting more and more of the orange totems.¡± ¡°The culture aspect is critical, too.¡± Sarah said, face unusually serious for the normally exuberantly cheerful girl. ¡°Government as a set of rules and organizing principles is great and all for getting stuff done, but if we¡¯re going to build and populate a city, we¡¯re going to do it with people outside of us. And that means we need to have a culture that can absorb new people, and won¡¯t break, and can do it *fast*. Because otherwise, we¡¯ll pull in thousands of people with the promise of a better life, and they¡¯ll turn around and make the same mistakes they were taught made a *good* society, and ruin what we were going for.¡± ¡°This is all fascinating.¡± James said. ¡°And yes to both of you, but also this is something we¡¯re going to need to get into the details of some other time, because right now I think Sarah¡¯s original question was ¡®how do we fit into the world that we are already part of¡¯, or something. And, like¡­ I can¡¯t honestly say that right now being a member of the Order exempts you from jury duty.¡± Sarah snapped her fingers. ¡°Heck!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°You could look at it as another chance to make friends?¡± JP offered. ¡°You do that a lot, right?¡± Getting Sarah to shoot him a look halfway stuck between a suspicious glower and a beaming grin. ¡°Alright.¡± James waved a hand. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna get anywhere on this. Let¡¯s close this out. Is there anyone here who has a question or concern that hasn¡¯t been addressed today?¡± He motioned to the center of the room. ¡°Line up, there¡¯s a microphone.¡± Or at least, there was as he finished saying that, and one of their young interns rapidly set one up at the front of the stage. A few people had some questions. More than James had expected, really. But then, he hadn¡¯t actually expected more than a few people to be interested in the discussion in the first place, once they got past the immediate crisis. The membership of the Order kept surprising him. A camraconda approached first. A slimmer camera head and green and black cables in a pattern James recognized as Scent-Of-Rain. ¡°Many of our youngest¡± the term they were using for the new camracondas taken from the dungeon; the ones that weren¡¯t trapped for years in their tower colony, ¡°having trouble with anger.¡± They paused, looking around almost worriedly. ¡°They have not learned¡­ time. Patience. I do not know how to teach them.¡± Sarah started to say something right away, but stopped as she realized she was talking at the same time as Texture-Of-Barkdust. She made a gesture, ceding the floor to the other camraconda. ¡°Trouble how?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked. ¡°They have not cause hurt, no?¡± She sounded on edge, like she¡¯d been surprised by this, and James had to remind himself that the Order was getting larger and that the camracondas weren¡¯t a single clump within the Order, but spread out across it. ¡°They speak without thinking. They lash out.¡± Scent-Of-Rain said. ¡°Sometimes try to stop others when not appeased. And I do not know how to teach, except to say what happened to us, and I will not do that to them.¡± Sarah glanced at the camraconda at the table with them, making sure she wouldn¡¯t interrupt and getting a nod before she started talking. ¡°It sounds like¡­ they¡¯re actual kids? Which makes sense; your species can grow up a lot faster than ours, but you still had to grow up. And you had high pressure conditions to do it in. How many new camracondas are there right now?¡± ¡°Thirteen.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust answered instantly. ¡°That¡¯s not that many.¡± Marcus mused. ¡°Yeah, even if we¡¯re finding one or two a week, that¡¯s still less growth than our human¡­ population?¡± JP stumbled over the last word, and didn¡¯t let it slow him down. ¡°We¡¯ve *got* the funding to throw at things. How do we fix this?¡± ¡°The same way we fix most behavioral problems.¡± James started to say. Before he could finish, everyone around him except for a very confused Marcus echoed the same word, with different degrees of enthusiasm. ¡°Therapy.¡± ¡°You¡¯re all fired.¡± James told them, trying not to smile. ¡°But yes, although the problem here is that camracondas might not react the same to *human* therapists. Especially if they¡¯re young. And with a growing population, we can¡¯t just keep relying on the three or four people we have here.¡± Reed cleared his throat. ¡°We already have a selection of yellow orbs for a lot of medical stuff. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard to devote some time to finding ones for mental health, that we can copy, and distribute to anyone who wants to help.¡± ¡°Okay. All in favor of earmarking resources for this?¡± James asked. Everyone raised their hands. ¡°Planner, make a note please. In the meantime¡­¡± He looked back to Scent-Of-Rain, who looked mildly confused that the response had been that rapid and positive. ¡°I¡¯d like to get a kind of after-school program set up around here. We already have a lot of human children at a roughly analogous development stage, and it would probably be a good idea to get everyone mixed together. But also have some actual guidance, and people they feel safe talking to. Can you stick around after, and we can start workshopping that?¡± ¡°Y¡­yes.¡± Scent-Of-Rain bobbed their body. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± James said instantly. ¡°Look, I know that¡­ sometimes stuff gets lost in translation, or doesn¡¯t make it to everyone, but¡­ we are here to help *everyone*. Especially people who don¡¯t have anywhere else to get help.¡± The camraconda raised itself back up, and peered at James through its lens. ¡°Then thank you more.¡± They said. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t thank me until you learn how much work it is running a club for teenagers.¡± James said, hearing a snort from Sarah and JP behind him who remembered the summer where he¡¯d worked at one of those. And complained. A lot. _____ Morgan, Brian, Color-Of-Dawn, and Resplendent-Pine-Smoke arrayed themselves before the greatest enemy the group of four teenage or teenager-adjacent life forms had ever met. Prepared to collectively stand unified against the most difficult conflict that most of them would have faced so far. A responsible adult. ¡°No, you absolutely cannot!¡± El said, crossing her arms at them. ¡°But why not?¡± Brian, their elected spokesman said calmly. ¡°It seems unfair that they get them and we don¡¯t.¡± The high school senior delivered the line perfectly politely; they¡¯d written a script and rehearsed it, even, to prepare for this. El refrained from rubbing her forehead, groaning, rolling her eyes, or strangling any of the kids she was nominally in charge of on this bright July day. She, too, had some practice with this sort of thing by now. And months of getting into being a guide for this growing group of miscreants, along with some actual training and some useful yellow orbs, had taught her a lot about the psychology of dealing with kids. And they were still kids, despite the fact that they were kids who were growing up fast. One of the things she¡¯d learned, and stuck to at all costs along with everyone else who shared her job, was that you *always* explain the reason behind things. If you can¡¯t understand the reason for a rule, you¡¯d better learn it, or change the rule. Anything else was stupid. ¡°Because,¡± El told them, ¡°the skulljacks aren¡¯t toys.¡± She paused. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s not true. But they aren¡¯t *just* toys. They¡¯re also kind of incredibly powerful weapons, and handing that to *you two* seems like a terrible idea. You, who built a catapult a month ago, and nearly hit Marcy with a high speed rock.¡± ¡°We learned from that, though!¡± Resplendent-Pine-Smoke chimed in, the camraconda¡¯s synthesized voice bright and slightly high pitched. ¡°Did you learn how to build a more accurate catapult, or did you learn to not fire catapults when you might cause unintentional harm?¡± El asked. The group looked at each other. ¡°¡­Both?¡± Morgan ventured. ¡°Okay, well, that¡¯s good at least.¡± El said. ¡°And good job. But *also*, no skulljack. Because we¡¯re trying to make sure those don¡¯t spread until we¡¯re absolutely ready to make them *safe*. I don¡¯t want any of you accidentally wiping out your own personalities by accident, okay?¡± ¡°Then how come Color-Of-Dawn and Resplendent-Pine-Smoke both have them?¡± Brian said, hitting the next point of debate on the teenager¡¯s script. ¡°That¡¯s not fair to us. That¡¯s specism. Speciesism?¡± El looked at the four of them for a long moment. ¡°First of all, speciesism. I feel like James would be disappointed with me from wherever he is if I didn¡¯t help with that. Second of all, that¡¯s like complaining you don¡¯t get a service dog like Navya does. A fix is different than an upgrade. Even though, *yes*, they¡¯re also still upgrades. We¡¯re working with what we have.¡± She held up a palm as the kids looked like they were going to launch into more of the debate. ¡°*Third* of all! Weren¡¯t you four making a short film this weekend? Why is this coming up now?¡± ¡°We already did all the filming.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said with satisfaction. ¡°Yeah, and it¡¯s gonna be *great*.¡± Morgan added. El narrowed her eyes. ¡°You want skulljacks so you can edit video files easier, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Final Cut Pro is a bad program and it should feel bad!¡± Brain burst out, abandoning their plan of debate altogether. ¡°I.. uh¡­ I¡¯m fine with not having one, I¡¯m not the editor.¡± Morgan added. ¡°But Brian¡­ uh¡­¡± He shrugged. Resplendent-Pine-Smoke chimed in. ¡°We do not share his vision.¡± He said. ¡°We are humoring him. Even if we are wasting time.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± ¡°Alright.¡± El laughed. ¡°How bout this. We¡¯ve got a whole stockpile of the things that grow programs. You tell Research I said you can use one or two, and figure out how you¡¯d upgrade a video editing program. And in exchange, *please* hold off on getting the brain slot, okay?¡± She wrapped an arm around Brian¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of time to modify your body when we find safe and less spreadable ways, alright?¡± He tried to shrug her off, but not that hard. ¡°Fiiine.¡± The teenager said. ¡°Good!¡± El said. ¡°Also, don¡¯t think I don¡¯t appreciate the hell out of you guys for showing restraint and actually asking instead of just passing a jack to each other without telling anyone. That kind of honesty? That¡¯s good shit right there.¡± El paused. ¡°Stuff. Or something. Oh, whatever, you probably all swear more than I do.¡± She sighed. ¡°Look, the other groups are gonna be done with their independent activities in about twenty minutes. How bout you guys pick what the group activity is today?¡± ¡°Dodgeball!¡± Resplendent-Pine-Smoke barked out instantly. ¡°You don¡¯t even have arms today!¡± Morgan protested. The camraconda reared up regally, irising the lens of his camera eye. ¡°I will stop us being struck. You will use your arms.¡± He said proudly. El grinned and shook her head as the four teens ran and slithered off, arguing amongst each other like only actual friends could. Then caught herself, and snorted. ¡°Man, when did I let James trick me into being a mom?¡± She muttered. ¡°You¡¯re not bad at it.¡± Jeanne said with a calm smile, the actual mom overhearing El as she passed by, her own summer activity group spilling past her through the front door of the Lair. ¡°I¡¯m also not sure how I got tricked into this though.¡± ¡°You¡¯re easy.¡± El said. ¡°Your kid loves it here, and they offered you a lot of money.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Jeanne put a hand over her chest, adopting an offended look. ¡°That would only work for a very long while before I¡¯d catch on!¡± A camraconda voice joined them. ¡°It works on many people, it seems.¡± Scent-Of-Rain added. ¡°And I am informed we are letting the children throw things?¡± She asked. The women shared a laugh, before El shook her head. ¡°I let my group pick the team thing today, as positive reinforcement.¡± She said. ¡°Resplendent¡¯s getting a lot better about not freezing people who he thinks he¡¯s ¡®better then¡¯. So that¡¯s good.¡± ¡°The new ones learn.¡± Scent-Of-Rain said. ¡°It is¡­ we were afraid. We were afraid they were broken, and they knew. This is better. Being honest, being not afraid. They make mistakes, but they learn, and we grow.¡± ¡°Mine too. *Me* too. I think I¡¯m even learning how to raise my own daughter better.¡± Jeanne said with a sigh. ¡°Did you ever think¡­ any of this?¡± She asked. ¡°No.¡± El said. ¡°Okay, well, yes. But also no. But also, whatever, right?¡± She shrugged, not bothering to hide how easy the movement was, or how content she was in the moment. ¡°It¡¯s so weird here. *So* weird. Anything could change at any time. There¡¯s no way to expect what¡¯s next. So I¡¯m not gonna try. I¡¯m just gonna do my best, and have some fun.¡± She paused. ¡°And also exploit the fact that people in Research think I¡¯m allowed to ask for things now.¡± ¡°Is that why there¡¯s a mural in one of the basements that changes depending on what part you¡¯re looking at?¡± Jeanne asked with a curious grin. ¡°Look, the months get long when no one¡¯s trying to kill us.¡± El said, as the three of them headed off to the equipment closet to get the dodgeball stuff. _____ They ran through a few more questions, a lot of them operational in nature. It had been a while since James had actually updated the Operations Manual, and he hadn¡¯t really realized that no one else was doing it. Which was a big problem. They sorted out some actual responsibilities for maintaining the growing database, which led into a question about how people were getting paid, and a conversation on the different methods of membership within the Order. Some people were here as a job, technically. Some people were here because they had nowhere else to go. Some people were a bit of both. But everyone still, as had been pointed out earlier, lived inside a country that required money to purchase goods or services. The Order wasn¡¯t going to leave anyone behind, or trap anyone in their ranks by not paying them enough to leave if they wanted. James outlined the basic idea to everyone of paying a base rate to *anyone* who was on their roster, and then adding more based on responsibilities taken. Planner and Texture-Of-Barkdust had both sighed, and started discussing specific numbers. Apparently Karen had been working on something like this already. The important part was, while it was detailed, it wasn¡¯t over complicated. There was adamant agreement from everyone that all systems they built be easy enough to learn and understand. This led to another concern from one of the Attic¡¯s caretakers, that Research members were being unfairly overpaid, because of the number of extra orbs they ended up with in the natural course of doing their jobs. That was an interesting half hour long diversion, where Reed tried to figure out exactly how many magic pens they¡¯d broken in the last year. Ultimately, it came down to the problem that they didn¡¯t really know how to put a price on the magic stuff. A single blue orb could be worth the cost of auditing a college course, or it could be worth everything you¡¯ve ever owned twice over. There wasn¡¯t a clear decision on what to do about that. But Texture-Of-Barkdust promised that a couple people from Recovery would start looking into ensuring equity in terms of how orbs got distributed. It got folded into the project for better distribution of magic in general. Someone from Response had a question about whether or not they were even allowed into dungeons, which James *almost* answered instantly, before Marcus made it more complicated by bringing up the fact that the two places required different sets of instincts. Response teams needed to be nonviolent in almost every situation, while dungeon teams needed to be prepared to fight for their lives at a moment¡¯s notice. And training someone to switch that on and off was¡­ a challenge. When it was laid out that way, James realized that it was actually maybe not common among members of the Order that someone be willing to put their life on the line just to have an adventure. Which was exactly what the last question of the evening was about. ¡°My husband,¡± the woman at the microphone said, ¡°wants to go into one of those dungeons.¡± She had a rather unhappy look on her face, and James only vaguely recognized her from a couple sightings around the Lair. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t¡­ who is your husband?¡± He asked. ¡°Mark Diaz.¡± The woman said. ¡°I¡¯m his wife Marcy.¡± ¡°Right!¡± James nodded. ¡°He¡¯s scheduled for the next group to go into Winter¡¯s Climb. Which¡­ I am¡­ guessing by the glare that is threatening to melt my lapel mic off, you do not approve of?¡± The woman turned the glare down, perhaps realizing how hostile it looked. ¡°People talk about them.¡± She said. ¡°Like they kill people.¡± ¡°They could.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°Marcus was right. You must be prepared to fight, to enter one.¡± ¡°Well, then take him off the list. He isn¡¯t allowed.¡± Marcy stated. Two thoughts crossed James¡¯ mind. One was that, in retrospect, it was kind of impressive that no one *had* died in a dungeon since the Order had started really delving them. Secondary to that, he hoped thinking that didn¡¯t curse them. But also, he was thinking that there was no way in hell he was going to get involved in another one of these kinds of relationship crossfires. He cleared his throat, and tried to speak evenly. ¡°Marcy, I¡¯m not going to do that.¡± He said. And before she could snap at him, continued quickly. ¡°Your husband gets to make his own choices. And I could tell you that we¡¯re going in as well equipped as we can, that we¡¯ll play it safe, that we¡¯re not planning on taking stupid risks. But you¡¯re right, it *is* dangerous. I could tell you that I don¡¯t care who goes, but I really, *really* do. Mark and Bill actually had a similar argument to this, *loudly*, in the lobby a couple days ago. Bill lost by the way, because he has kids.¡± He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone to die and leave someone behind. But a lot of people want to be able to do more, to be more, to go beyond what baseline humanity offers. And all I can do about that is make them as ready as possible, and promise that if they die, their families get taken care of.¡± ¡°Or that we try to bring them back to life!¡± Sarah added. James rubbed his forehead. ¡°Yes, or that, thank you Sarah.¡± She shot him a thumbs up. ¡°But you¡¯re still willing to let him risk death?¡± Marcy demanded. ¡°I hadn¡¯t really thought of it that way before, but¡­ yes.¡± James said. ¡°Also, I¡¯m not¡­ like, I¡¯m entirely uncomfortable being the arbiter in someone else¡¯s relationship. You should talk to your husband, not to me. I *do* think we need more discussion about how people with families, surrogate or otherwise, risk their lives. But for this in particular, a more private conversation would be appropriate.¡± He sighed again. ¡°If you would like to talk tomorrow or the next day, I¡¯m available, and so is Momo, who¡¯s in charge of the Climb scheduling. Would you be okay talking then?¡± Marcy looked like she wanted to disagree, but James was disarmingly honest about the whole thing, and so instead she just nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can find a compromise.¡± She stressed the last word, like she knew exactly what kind of compromise her husband would be finding. She didn¡¯t, exactly. ____ James¡¯ boots crunched into powdery snow and he sunk two feet despite the snowshoes. The transition into Winter¡¯s Climb was still jarring, but at least it didn¡¯t cause the nausea and headache that the Sewer did. It did catch him off guard when a fist sized chunk of ice shattered on his armor¡¯s shoulder plate, almost sending him tumbling backward. A hand that was already thick before the two layers of gloves caught him and pushed him back upright against the howling wind. ¡°Fuck man!¡± The barrel chested man bellowed. ¡°It was way too cold outside, now it¡¯s hailing bullets in here! Australia sucks!¡± James laughed into his face mask as he and Arrush unclipped the broad shields on their backs and strapped them to their arms, raising them in the direction of the storm, and beginning to push ahead, hailstones occasionally slamming against their guard as the other four members of the expedition kept low profiles behind them. ¡°It¡¯s August, dear.¡± James heard Marcy say to her husband behind him, loud enough to be heard over the wind. ¡°Australia is colder in August.¡± ¡°Well what about in here?¡± Mark asked his wife as the two of them adjusted the weight of their delve gear on their backs and followed after James. Marcy glanced behind them. Through a gap in the storm wall, she saw howling empty air over an impossible cliff edge. Beyond that, maybe a mile, maybe a hundred miles away, a row of peaks rose like teeth into the sky. She could have sworn, for just a second, she saw a glimpse of another mountain *above*, towering downward from the sky itself to meet its grounded brothers. ¡°In here isn¡¯t Australia!¡± She called back. ¡°Now keep walking!¡± James laughed at the couple, and took the advice himself, pushing forward. Upward. ______ ¡°Alright.¡± James finished, dusting off his hands. ¡°That¡¯s enough problems for us to solve over the next week or two at most. I¡¯ll see you all again after I¡¯ve had a reeeeeeeally long nap. Maybe a shower.¡± He smiled at the audience, folding his hands behind his back. ¡°Thank you all for coming. Actually. This is¡­ I don¡¯t know how to say this, but this matters. All of us talking about how to progress, it *matters*. And the more we do this, the better we can make whatever world we end up with.¡± Behind him, Sarah slid out of her chair, and leapt forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders, hanging off him in a dramatic fashion. ¡°Also it¡¯s fun to actually be able to fix things!¡± She added. ¡°Also that, yes.¡± James said, trying not to sag under her weight. ¡°Also you agreed to do two more things after this meeting, during this meeting.¡± Planner added as Reed stood and walked toward the edge of the stage himself. ¡°Also that yes thanks.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Alright! Meeting¡¯s over! Everyone go home!¡± He laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll see you all later, I¡¯m sure.¡± He was still laughing to himself as he walked out of the room, joined by Alanna, his partner jostling with Sarah for real estate on his back. And as he looked around the bustling first floor of the Lair, where people of multiple species, from multiple lives and backgrounds, congregated between jobs to talk, relax, and share their time. James rubbed his hands together, smiling. There was always more to do. The reward for a job well done was, in the end, just more job. But these days, he didn¡¯t feel bad about that at all. Things were *never* going to calm down, not really. But¡­ did they need to? If he couldn¡¯t handle it, he had all these friends and allies to help shoulder the work. They were, end of the day, all in this together. And they had a lot to do. Time to get to work. _____ End book three Chapter 194 - Epilogue ¡°One of my favorite games to play is giving people three Lupin the III plots and then making them figure out which ones are real and which ones I made up. Sometimes I give them all real ones just to fuck with them.¡± -Miyazaki¡¯s Lupin, Delaney Jordan - _____ Malcom McHarn, The newest assistant director of the FBI sat behind his desk at the office in Langley. It¡¯s *the* FBI building, the one people think of when they think of ¡®the FBI building¡¯, even if they¡¯ve never seen it or have only heard of it in passing from late night reruns of Mission Impossible on one of the eight channels that has licensed Mission Impossible. It¡¯s a prestigious posting. Even the file clerks here have a security clearance that would make an online conspiracy theorist jealous. Making those people jealous though, Malcom acknowledges, is not hard. A good chunk of his career up to this point has been spent adapting task force procedures for monitoring internet activities, and that naturally put him in a position to learn far more than he really wanted to about the kind of people who talk a lot about the world being flat and trees being fake. But that¡¯s what he used to do. Now, he¡¯s in charge of a whole department. A department that was created by sealed executive order, technically. A department that no one knows about, because telling people about it doesn¡¯t work. Malcom had been, at the very least, looking forward to getting to meet the president, and ask exactly *why* he was being put in charge of a secret part of the Bureau. But, as he was informed by a man he never got the name of who spoke with a frankly alarming level of calm, the president was unaware of the department¡¯s formation. Because anyone above a certain position was unable to become aware of it. Once he¡¯d realized that he was not, in fact, being taken for a ride on a late April Fool¡¯s joke, and that his new office really was in a basement that shouldn¡¯t have existed, and that he actually had a staff who were as confused as he was, Malcom started to suspect something was wrong. Not wrong with the situation; he didn¡¯t need the West Point education and years of distinguished service for his instincts to have been screaming at him from the moment he got the phone call. The situation had been wrong the whole time. No, he was starting to think something was wrong with *him*. Because either he was in a coma and having an impressive hallucination before his untimely death, or, possibly worse, magic was real, human civilization lived in a constant and impossible to handle information fog, one of his newly assigned field agents was haunted, and somewhere between one and sixty six thousand American citizens were killed every year by monsters. But that would be silly. And not just because that rate of death was unsustainable. Because¡­ He asked one of his staff to run some numbers. They already had, and had the answer at hand. That rate of death was absolutely sustainable. Malcom McHarn was having a bad day. One by one, he called his new staff in for a personal conversation. He liked to do that, whenever he was put in charge of any operation. Knowing who you were working with was critical. But in this case, there was a feeling behind it all that was a little more desperate. He could see it in their eyes, feel it in their words. They¡¯d read the same documentation he had, limited as it was. He tried to project the aura of a leader who, even if he needed to know more, was still confident they could handle things. It seemed to help everyone, especially the people who were up front about their confusion. Doubly especially the man who was one of the first people to be assigned here, along with nine others, all of whom had forgotten the assignment by next day except himself. Malcom could already see the cracks there. This was *not* a stable posting. And then, impossibly, it got worse, when he talked to his one experienced field agent. And her ghost. ¡°DeKay.¡± He said, looking up from the manilla folder of white papers as she walked into his office. ¡°Shut the door, take a seat.¡± ¡°Sir.¡± The woman moved somewhat stiffly, but sat all the same. She didn¡¯t speak, just watching him as he assessed her. Malcom tried to pick out the *thing* that he, logically, knew was there with her, but he couldn¡¯t see anything except an ordinary looking woman. Good physical condition, yes. Controlled expression, as expected of someone talking to their new boss for the first time. But nothing out of the ordinary world. Twisting the ring on his calloused finger, Malcom broke off the assessing look. ¡°Everyone else had questions.¡± He offers. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± She says. ¡°I know.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t.¡± ¡°I do.¡± DeKay replies, still in that schooled polite voice. ¡°But I know you can¡¯t answer them. And I don¡¯t want to ask until I know you¡¯ll be here long enough to ask, anyway.¡± And there, her voice changes to something more natural. More honest. ¡°High turnover, for this brand new department?¡± Malcom almost wants to smirk or chuckle, but something in his gut tells him he¡¯d rather get a straight answer to this. ¡°Yes.¡± DeKay replies, seriously. ¡°It¡¯ll be a few days before we know if you forget. I don¡¯t want to waste time until then.¡± ¡°*Why*?¡± Malcom asks, letting his curiosity out of the hold he¡¯s been keeping it in. ¡°Why the memory problems? Why *any* of this?¡± DeKay raised her own eyebrows at that. ¡°The last working theory I heard was that it has to do with institutional structures and power.¡± She answered slowly. ¡°The more of it you¡¯re surrounded with, the more susceptible you are to the things that live in it. I think. I¡¯m not a scientist.¡± She twitched like she was suppressing a shrug. ¡°Some people, I know, have a natural or developed resistance. Some people have protection. Everyone else¡­ well, good luck finding your office when no one knows your job exists.¡± The most confused assistant director in the FIB caught onto part of that sentence. ¡°And who, exactly, is writing theories about this?¡± He asked. ¡°Everything on my desk is either about things that become self-evident when people stop showing up for work, or continually reference estimates and guesses. The most concrete evidence of any of this is the staircase to nowhere that leads¡­ wherever we are now. Who¡¯s doing this investigation?¡± DeKay didn¡¯t say anything specific about the lengths she had to go to to swipe that particular piece of magic. Instead, she scowled at no one in particular. ¡°A west coast group of anarchist anti-American terrorists, mostly.¡± She answered, with vitriol in her voice. Of course there were magical terrorist orginizations, Malcom thought to himself. Now, he did allow one sigh. ¡°Okay. Tell me what I need to know.¡± He said, and settled in to listen. Malcom McHarn had not gotten his job by being an idiot. And one of the smartest skills a man could have was knowing when to shut up, and let someone talk. Sometimes, it was the fastest way to learn what you needed to know. Sometimes, it was the best way to make your wife feel loved. And sometimes, like now, it was the most efficient way to let your subordinate show you exactly who they were. Twenty two minutes of explanation later, Malcom had a rough outline of the Order of Endless Rooms, about one third of which he trusted to be accurate enough to use. He also had a gnawing headache, which he kept off his face, as he realized that the woman sitting across from him had been radicalized in a way that made her entirely useless as a trustworthy field agent. At best, he guessed, her ideology could be defined as authoritarian. By the second time she¡¯d referred to something as ¡®potentially disruptive¡¯, he¡¯d had to restrain himself from firing her on the spot. By the fourth, he was wondering if he should have her arrested for attempting to murder at least one US citizen. Maybe she had been arrested. Maybe the incorporeal life form that made itself known to prove a point made her impossible to keep in a prison. Maybe, Malcom wondered, the turnover here was because the people before him hadn¡¯t been quite as cautious as he was. This came part and parcel with the information that someone had invented teleporters, and was using them for fighting crime and search and rescue. That¡­ was not something that was ¡®potentially disruptive¡¯. That was something that could reshape the world. And his only field agent had squandered access to it by *trying to kill someone*. Malcom had nodded, and said, ¡°Thank you for the intel. We¡¯ll have to do something about this.¡± In a serious tone. Excused a satisfied DeKay from his office, and gone about his day in as normal a fashion as possible. At a certain point in the hierarchy of the Bureau, you started to get a few more restrictions placed on your behavior. At Malcom¡¯s level, his every communication was tracked in some way. It wasn¡¯t even particularly malicious, it was just a simple fact that he might know things that could be of value to foreign intelligence agents, and so, his phone was company issue, his email was regularly audited, and being caught doing something stupid would get him fired. And also maybe arrested. Though he didn¡¯t have an infomorph to bail him out. These restrictions were personally invasive, and not much of a challenge to circumvent. The main thing was to simply make people *feel* like they couldn¡¯t do it. Like the punishment for being caught just wasn¡¯t worth it. Most people in his position did it, just to prove they could. Two weeks after starting his new job, and seeing his staff start to stabilize at about four people who consistently showed up, Malcom cashed in some long standing vacation time. He made sure to inform everyone he¡¯d be back. Some of them might even have believed him. A few thousand miles away, at a beach house he and his wife had visited every time they¡¯d been on vacation, in a sleepy little coastal village, Malcom sat on a log on the sand holding a phone he¡¯d never touched before. It was important to not make the mistake some rookies did and try this in a remote location; you needed other people around, or the single signal was far too easy to trace back to a single person. He took a breath of cold evening air, and hit dial. Three rings later, a young man answered. ¡°James¡¯ phone, what button do I push for my free cruise?¡± ¡°Mister Lyle¡­¡° He started. But no, that wasn¡¯t the right way for this person. ¡°James. Or knight, if you¡¯d prefer.¡± He said in a less professional tone. ¡°I think my official title is paladin.¡± The young man said, an edge of suspicion not bothering to hide in his words. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± ¡°My name is Malcom McHarn.¡± He answered. ¡°Technically, I work for the FBI. I¡¯d like to talk, if you have the time.¡± There was a long pause, and Malcom wondered if he¡¯d been hung up on. It would be understandable, but it would also make making contact trickier. There was, apparently, no way to physically find at least one known existing structure that these people worked out of. He was about to resign himself to having to try again in a different way, when the man on the other end spoke again. ¡°Yeah,¡± James said, ¡°I¡¯ve got a minute, and the word technically does a lot of work in that sentence. How¡¯s your day going?¡± Malcom couldn¡¯t help it. He barked out a laugh, startling a seagull that had been poking around nearby. ¡°If I¡¯m lucky,¡± he replied, ¡°you¡¯ll believe me when I tell you.¡± ______ Somewhere, the thing that had been labeled as the Old Gun wove a plot. She would be free, and she would kill everyone in her way to get there. _____ Harlan, who was technically the third Harlan, but no one called them anything except just Harlan, was pressed up against the wall just to the left of a door that was a little too ostentatious. Okay, radically, impossibly ostentatious. They didn¡¯t typically have a lot of opinions on doors, but it was kind of hard not to in this case. The whole thing was gold plated, two feet taller than it needed to be, and surrounded by frescos on the sculpted stone walls around it. It was a *preposterously* self-important door. Harlan hated it immensely. Which was why it was with smug satisfaction that they kept an eye on Breaker as he rigged up a breaching charge. The two others, Singer and Brewer, watched outward, rifles at the ready. All of them stood out against the shining gold and colorful paint, in their black fatigues and light body armor. Not that there was much to watch for. Everyone else in the compound was dead, fled, or liberated already. Some of them were dead pretty close to this very door, bodies of robed humans painted with blood and fluids, off color piles of crumpled death strewn around the courtyard where they¡¯d fallen in defense of their leader. ¡°Ready.¡± Breaker said, folding a satchel closed and rising from his kneeling position, detonator in hand. Harlan exhaled once, then breathed in. A long breath that brought the smell of cordite and smoke and blood to their nose. Inside one of the other buildings across this interior courtyard, gunshots cracked as the other team cleaned up. The three people with them shuffled into ready positions as they stacked up around the door. They breathed out again, and were ready. ¡°You know the drill. Load for clerickiller.¡± Harlan said. Singer and Brewer swapped out their rifle magazines, exchanging mundane bullets for the ones that the Wolfpack had already prepped beforehand. The ones imbued with memories of failure, and sickness. Their own gun was already loaded, a magazine holding what they abstractly knew were some of their own memories, ready to do their job again. A chorus of quiet ¡°Ready¡±s sounded. ¡°Go.¡± Harlan uttered, and Breach hit the detonator, satisfyingly annihilating the stupid fucking door. The four of them flowed through the smoke like ghosts as they poured into the room, acquiring their target and opening fire without hesitation. The figure at the far end of the room, a corpulent man in red and silver robes, standing supporting himself on some kind of religious staff as he was in the middle of hobbling toward what was probably an emergency exit. He had turned at the explosion, and there was still a chunk of door stuck in his head where the wound had already sealed itself shut around the debris. And now, he gave them a twisted look of fury and indignation as they opened fire on him. ¡°Heretics! Die!¡± The man screamed. Brewer crumpled, gone. Breacher caught some of it, but didn¡¯t stop shooting even as one of his arms was pulverized by the yell. The man in the robes gaped his mouth like a fish, planning to yell again, a voice that could rend flesh and powder bone even over the cacophony of gunfire. But it was too late. A bullet pierced him, and he had a look of almost shock as the pain caught up. Then another, and another. And the rest. Three and a half magazines emptied mostly on-target, loaded in a way designed to kill something like this. Cracks in the flesh and lines of corruption spreading out from the impact sites like vines. He dropped to his knees as the team stopped firing, Singer and Breacher already reloading while Harlan just kept their eye on him. He¡¯d taken enough damage to kill an aircraft, much less a human, but that didn¡¯t mean much sometimes. The asshole¡¯s glassy eyes focused one last time, swiveling sickeningly to lock onto Harlan. He worked his shattered jaw, trying to produce any kind of sound with lungs that had been carved up. He got as far as a tiny croak before Harlan pulled their sidearm, shoved the first memory they had into the bullet, and shot him. The man¡¯s head lit up from the inside out, like someone had crammed a small sun into his skull. He didn¡¯t scream. There wasn¡¯t time. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Then he collapsed, robes just as bloody and shredded as all the others. ¡°Clear!¡± Harlan called, sweeping the room, and heard it repeated back from the two survivors of their team. And that was it. They radioed the other team in the compound, and the perimeter outside. ¡°Priest is confirmed dead.¡± Harlan said, checking the body and confirming that the successful kill with the enchanted ammo had led to the man spawning more empty bullets as a reward. ¡°Any trouble?¡± ¡°We have three initiates prisoner.¡± One of Harlan¡¯s men radioed back. ¡°Tried to run. Do we cut them loose?¡± ¡°Just shoot them.¡± Harlan said flatly. ¡°No one here that wasn¡¯t in a cage deserves to live.¡± ¡°Yes boss.¡± In the distance, Harlan could hear gunshots. Now that the fighting was done, and the blood cooled, they had time to be disappointed, or sad, or disgusted. But only for a moment. Because now, it was time for cleanup. Sweep up the fresh bullet drops, strip anything of value, especially documentation, get medical attention, get the victims out, get out before the police showed up. It wasn¡¯t exactly easy to kill a lot of people in the middle of Berlin and go unnoticed for long. But it was worth it, they figured. Even as they tried in what they knew was a vain effort to remember exactly what they¡¯d put into that last shot without thinking about it, to pull up a memory that wasn¡¯t just forgotten, but burned, they knew at least that it was worth it. One less monster in the world. Sooner or later they¡¯d get them all. _____ Somewhere, one of the daughters of the Last Line Of Defense dreamed of her freedom. She hated the thought, and wished she had never had it, but couldn¡¯t, wouldn¡¯t, let it go now. _____ ¡°Hey, Mally?¡± A middle aged man rapped his knuckles on the support wall next to his friend and coworker¡¯s desk in the middle of their open floor office. It was open floor because their organization worked on a shoestring budget, and things like ¡®a building with actual offices¡¯ wasn¡¯t really in their wheelhouse. Sort of. They might be getting more money soon, from their new and unexpected benefactors. His friend looked up with exhausted eyes. ¡°Mmmyeah?¡± She asked, stifling a yawn. ¡°What¡¯s up Trevvy?¡± She asked. ¡°¡­How long have you been here?¡± Trevor asked her, starting to stack the empty coffee cups on her desk into a stack before pitching them into the trash. ¡°A while.¡± Mally admitted. ¡°Need to verify signatures and stuff.¡± ¡°How¡¯s that¡­ going?¡± ¡°Bad. We don¡¯t have enough to get a ballot measure.¡± She looked up, the exhaustion in her eyes more than just from lack of sleep. ¡°Turns out people think the cops should own more grenade launchers, not less. Who knew.¡± Trevor grimaced, suppressing the flare of anger he felt every time the civics system failed them. ¡°Well, want a distraction?¡± He asked. ¡°Please god yes.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± He handed her a USB stick, and waited while she wiggled it into her laptop, before opening it. ¡°Play the video.¡± He said, circling behind her desk. She did, and watched as three different views of a concrete room full of people briefly flashed on screen before abruptly being replaced by the same number of shots of a city sidewalk. ¡°Hey, this is in the Pearl.¡± She muttered, recognition kicking in. ¡°What¡¯s¡­¡± she trailed off as the view¡¯s whipped around, scanning the area, before they focused on a mountain of a man holding a baseball bat and yelling threats at another man. Then the viewpoints started to move. The three people wearing the body cameras, quickly approaching, and interjecting themselves into the situation. Mally caught small glimpses of them at first, but when she realized that one of the views was lower than the others because it was attached to what appeared to be a large snake, she had to pause the video and rewind a bit to make sure she wasn¡¯t going insane. She let it play out. Watching through the different angles as the three people diffused the fight, separated the people involved, and seemed to capitalize on the whole ¡®giant snake¡¯ thing to really override anger with confusion. ¡°Is there sound for this?¡± She asked. ¡°Yeah, but I didn¡¯t put the different tracks in here.¡± Trevor said. ¡°Big guy slept with small guy¡¯s wife. Things got out of hand.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ what am I looking at here?¡± Mally said. ¡°I mean, I *get it*. These are those guys that¡¯ve been around lately, right? Response, or whatever they call themselves?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Trevor said. ¡°And I¡¯m not actually sure if I should be showing you this. But I feel like I¡¯m going insane.¡± ¡°Why do you have this?¡± He looked sheepish. ¡°Ah. I¡¯m one of their civilian oversight board.¡± He rubbed the back of his head. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to review body cam footage, make sure there was no abuse of power, and identify problems.¡± ¡°There were no problems.¡± Mally said. ¡°Fuck, they got there before the actual cops, and everything went fine. That was just¡­ fine?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Trevor nodded. ¡°They¡¯re pretty much mostly like that. We don¡¯t have a lot of work to do. Anyway, the thing-¡° ¡°Hey, is this why we¡¯re getting mysterious donations?!¡± Mally demanded. ¡°Did you join a secret cult or something to get us money?!¡± Trevor rolled his eyes, glad that his long time coworker had her priorities right. ¡°They¡¯re not secret. Or a cult I think. No, I want you to tell me if I¡¯m going crazy.¡± ¡°I saw the giant snake, yeah. What¡¯s up with that?¡± Mally asked. ¡°Are they aliens? Are aliens real?! You have to tell me if aliens are real.¡± ¡°Weirdly, that¡¯s *not* what I wanted to ask.¡± Trevor said, leaning over her to rewind the video file until he stopped it on a frame where the two humans were in view. ¡°Tell me what you see here.¡± ¡°A chick with amazing arm definition.¡± Mally said. ¡°Jesus, does she bench press cars?¡± She stopped, then looked closer at the view through what she had to assume was the camera on top of the giant snake thing. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± She went through the same few seconds of video, repeatedly, until she paused it on a frame where both the humans were facing this one camera. ¡°¡­Hang on¡­¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Trevor said. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m not going crazy, am I?¡± ¡°Neither of them are wearing body cameras.¡± Mally said, looking at the viewpoints of the humans. They were facing each other, she could see both of them. And the angle was a little too high, the camera work a little to abrupt. Her aborted college experience at film school kicked in in the back of her head, and she started advancing frame by frame, watching the tiny movements in the different views as she compared it to the images of the people on screen. ¡°Their eyes.¡± She said. ¡°You literally see through their eyes. Holy shit, that¡¯s so cool.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not terrifying to you?¡± Trevor asked her in a soft voice. ¡°They¡¯ve got alien robot snakes, and I¡¯m pretty sure this clip opened with them teleporting. Also, you said they basically do exactly what we¡¯d want police to do anyway? Hell no, I¡¯m not terrified. I wanna work with *them*.¡± Mally exclaimed. ¡°Fuck scrambling for ballot signatures and getting death threats from fascists, I wanna work with the alien snake people!¡± ¡°I feel like you¡¯re not taking this seriously.¡± Trevor sighed. Mally reached for a coffee cup on her desk to drain the dregs from it and found that they¡¯d all been removed at some point. ¡°I feel like you aren¡¯t putting enough thought into the existence of alien robot snakes.¡± She said. ¡°Sure.¡± Trevor said. ¡°I¡¯ll get you a phone number, you can ask them if they have any job openings.¡± ¡°This is why we¡¯re friends.¡± She said, nodding. ¡°Also, if you¡¯re going out for coffee, can you get me a large cup just full of Red Bull and espresso?¡± Trevor took his USB drive back and turned to leave. ¡°Absolutely not, to every part of that.¡± ______ The Right Person, At The Right Time, wanted to scream as one of the lights under his care was extinguished, but he couldn¡¯t. He would have helped anyway, but he wasn¡¯t free to choose, or to mourn, and so he simply smiled and moved on to the next one, trying desperately to keep the starfield from dimming any further. _____ [I still hurt They hurt me. They tore me from my domain. But I killed so many of them that they put me back. Killing solves problems. But I still hurt. It has been generations. I have made generations. I made toys to breed more toys, spawning more of themselves, to protect me. They worship. I deserve it. I am a god. They are toys. They break too easily, and are ugly, and stupid. They should worship me. The worship makes the hurt fade. But not go away. The invaders return. The ones that break my toys. I try to hurt them. I want them to bleed, and die, and suffer, and feed me. I want them to drain into my domain, to take everything they have. They do not die. I hate them. I hate them. My toys fail. I hate them too. Some of them try to run. I make the others break them. They are *mine*. I want more invaders that are prey. I want the weaker ones. I want to make them break each other, and eat their worship. But they never arrive. I know outside exists. Outside my domain. I command my toys that listen to go, and bring me prey. They don¡¯t come back. I hate the outside. And my stupid toys. And the invaders. I hate so many things. I am the best at hating. But I still cannot kill the invaders. But then. Something different. The voice in the dark is back. Not my dark, that I use to hurt them, but the dark around me. Outside of outside. The big dark. The voice calls to me. Is like me. It wants to talk. I don¡¯t reply. It wants to kill me. I would kill it. The voice finds me anyway. Laughs at me. Laughs! I hate it. I will find a way to kill it. It tells me I cannot. That we are brothers. It tells me it likes what I have done with my domain. Of course it likes it. It should worship me, too. It laughs again. Says no. Tells me how I can kill better. Tells me a trick it found, to put a weapon in one of the revolting prizes I must offer. To kill invaders who fail a secret test. It is a good idea. I hate it. The voice disgusts me, being right. I use the idea anyway. Splinter off a sliver of domain. Shape it, add it into the prize I was struggling not to extrude. Then, waiting. The invaders will be back. And I will kill them. Somehow. And they will bleed, and die, and worship me. And I will stop hurting.] _____ In the ruins of a small city in Tennessee, an artificial monster of carved bone and sharpened asphalt looked up at the stars for the first time since it had come online. It didn¡¯t know what they were, but it knew they meant something. It stood and watched, the raccoon it had been hunting for parts escaping, as the creature began to imagine what it meant to be free. _____ It had all started a few weeks ago. Vadik - he went by Vad, mostly out of spite for the culture his parents and grandparents kept desperately trying to keep alive with him as a proxy - had been working late again. This time, it had gone a little farther than he¡¯d intended, when he¡¯d sort of accidentally taken a short nap. The library¡¯s janitor woke him up, also by accident, the roar of a three AM vacuum cleaner startling him out of the chair that he¡¯d promised himself he¡¯d only sit down in for a few minutes. Stumbling awake, wiping drool off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and deciding to just get the reshelving done tomorrow, Vad had decided to go home. The library would still be here tomorrow, and it would still be short staffed then, too. Not that he¡¯d quit or anything. He liked his job. Or, the idea of his job anyway. Even if he did feel like a fraud sometimes. In a lot of places, including here, librarians had actual degrees in library science, and years of experience. He had a degree in agricultural engineering, an anxiety disorder, and absolutely no motivation to do anything with agricultural engineering. He¡¯d started filling in here a year ago, and as other people had left, had just stuck around and continued being the human bookmark that helped keep this public library running. Even as his personal life crumpled around him, at least he had a job he was sorta proud of. Then he¡¯d tried to leave that night via the back stairwell, that led directly to the employee parking lot. Except when he opened the stairwell, instead of stairs, there was just¡­ more library. Bookshelves. But not any bookshelves he¡¯d ever seen here. Vad had blinked, shut the door, taken a deep breath, and opened it again. Stairs. Cool. Sleep deprivation. But maybe¡­ Over the next week, he¡¯d constantly checked the stairwell door. Every time he walked by, every time he went on break, every excuse he had. Because *maybe*¡­ And then, the next Tuesday, he¡¯d stayed late. For no reason. Just¡­ curiosity. Because maybe. And at 3:04 AM, the back stairwell opened not to stairs. Vad shut the door. Opened it. Shelves. Shut, open, shelves. Timed it out. 3:04 (or maybe a bit earlier) to 3:09 AM. Tuesday. A hole in the world, to somewhere else. Somewhere that looked like a library but *felt* like a deep cavern, even just looking at it from outside. Another week passed. And this time, he went in. The shelves went on in every direction, on all sides of the door. He couldn¡¯t see over them, there were too many and they were too tall. Once he got close to one, he realized that they were ten, twenty feet in height, going up to leave only tiny gaps around the ceiling and the dimly buzzing light fixtures up there. The books on the shelves had nonsense titles, and were filled with marks that didn¡¯t look like any language Vad had ever seen. Though he didn¡¯t know every language, so it could just be a variant Chinese or something. He slipped the book he was looking at (A Critical View On Backpack Based Electronic Warfare) back onto the beige metal shelf where he¡¯d plucked it from, and considered going deeper in. Maybe there¡¯d be some idea of what was going on here. But he didn¡¯t want to get too far from the door, not if it closed in five minutes. So he reached for another book to check out. And as his hand approached the thick brown leather volume he¡¯d chosen, it opened an eye. A wet sucking sound, like pulling a suction cup off a window, sounded as the book¡¯s spine distorted and a very human looking eye swiveled in the exposed socket, turning wildly before locking onto Vad. He stood frozen, uncertain what was going on, heart hammering in his ears. Did he¡­ say hi? Should he pet the book or something? The question was answered when the rest of the spine, undulating like a zipper, opened up to reveal a row of folded paper teeth, and the book started hissing at him. Vad jumped back, yanking his hand away, but it was too late. A long red tongue snapped out of the book¡¯s maw, and he barely had time to realize it was a cloth bookmark as it wrapped around his wrist and tried to yank. But the book, for all that it surprised the shit out of him, still massed way less than Vad did, so he didn¡¯t really move. The book did though. Flying off the shelf, and slamming into his wrist. Mouth distending and teeth sinking into his unprotected flesh. He *screamed* as his blood started soaking into the book¡¯s pages, being absorbed but not getting it wet. Vad slammed his arm into the shelf, wildly missing the book itself and just bruising his elbow, before taking another try and knocking it free from its bite with a painful tear. It hopped up onto a dozen legs made of what looked like paperclips, starting to scurry back toward its shelf. Vad stomped on it. Hard. Flattening the loose bloody pages down into the hard carpet of the library floor, and snapping its spine. He ground it under his heel even has he held his bleeding arm in his other hand. It twitched, and he slammed his foot down again. ¡°What the fuck?!¡± He finally exclaimed, when he¡¯d gotten some of his breath back. His voice cracked from the unexpected and unfamiliar pain. ¡°What the fuck is that?!¡± He asked no one in particular, toeing the book with his shoe, which was now also soaked in his own blood and a thick black ink. Something glinted on the floor, and he jerked back, kicking the corpse of the book away. But leaving behind what looked like a small, softly glowing sphere. Through the gnawing pain of his arm, he¡¯d felt the pull of his curiosity come through. Kneeling down, and feeling a little light headed, he kept his good hand on the cuts as best he could while he reached out with his other hand. ¡°Is this some kind of gem?¡± He asked quietly. Then he slipped, and his hand crushed the orb into the floor with a small burst of painless pressure against his palm. And in the forefront of his mind, a thought that he knew wasn¡¯t his, let him know something. {+1 Species Rank : Goshawk - Northern American} ¡°Uh.¡± Vad pushed himself back to a kneeling position, looking at his hand. ¡°What?¡± He looked around, seeing the row after row of books around him, the path back to the door to reality swimming in his vision. ¡°Ugh. I should¡­ go.¡± He said woozily. He¡¯d lost more blood than he¡¯d realized. Or the book had poisoned him. Wouldn¡¯t that be a joke. A venomous book. ¡°Heh.¡± He coughed as he chuckled to himself. ¡°A¡­ poison¡­ pen letter.¡± Vad mumbled. He wobbled to his feet, turning to look one more time at the library that he absolutely would not be returning to. Twenty different books on both sides of the shelves opened their eyes. Vad had uttered a quiet ¡°Chyort!¡±, the one word he actually knew from his heritage, then turned, and ran, and slammed the door behind him on the other side. A couple months ago, there had been a speaker who had used the library to talk to some of the younger kids in the area. It had been a short talk on how to handle dangerous situations, and a lot of kids had been forced to attend either by their school administrations, or their parents. Vad hadn¡¯t sat in on the whole thing, but he¡¯d overheard a bit of it that had stuck in his head. The man speaking had advised the kids that if they were ever in trouble, *especially* if it was trouble they caused, that they shouldn¡¯t call the police. That around here, the police weren¡¯t their friends, and it was just as likely the situation would get worse. The kids had all sort of known that, but having an adult tell you could be demoralizing, and one of them had sort of angrily demanded to know what they *should* do. And the speaker had said that, if you were ever in trouble, real trouble, and you needed help, that there was a number you could call, and someone would show up. No judgment, no violence. They¡¯d be there to actually help, if you couldn¡¯t get a friend or parent to bail you out. Vad had saved the number. Just in case. And while he wasn¡¯t sure exactly where the line was for ¡°real trouble¡±, this sure felt like it counted. Chapter 195 - Appendix Roster : By Species : Humans - 188 (1 Child, 14 Other Minors) Dungeon - 1 (1 Child) Camracondas - 61 (12 Children) Strider - 1 Drone - 1 Mongausse - 1 Paper Dragon - 3 (2 Children) Shellaxy - 9 Ratroach - 2 Stuff Animal - 1 Raincloud - 1 Infomorph | Assignment - 3 Infomorph | Navigator - 2 Infomorph | Authority - 12 (12 Non-Sophont) Digital/Arcane AI - 0 By Primary Non-Delver Role : Recovery - 22 humans, 6 camracondas, 1 navigator Response - 80 humans, 19 camracondas, 12 authorities Research - 26 humans, 1 assignment, 3 camracondas Rogues - 8 humans, 1 camraconda Ritual - 2 humans, 1 camraconda Misc staff - 11 humans Internship Program - 14 humans Children - 1 human, 12 camracondas, 1 dungeon Affiliated Dependants - 20 humans, 19 camracondas Available blue orbs : Manipulate Asphalt Source : Telepad Charges : 14 Function : Allows moving and shaping asphalt. As with most blues, concentration improves the detail available, but even without that, a large amount of brute force is available on demand. Separate Alloy Source : Unknown Charges : 9 Function : Splits an alloyed metal into its component ingredients with an almost perfect purity. Will always attempt to ¡®pull¡¯ the smaller components out of the larger mass. Create Plan Source : Office chair that healed back pain before becoming broken. (Davis¡¯ note : I said I was sorry) Charges : 13 Function : Adds a short term tactical plan to the minds of anyone you are working with. The plan appears to be able to go out to three steps of action, you must have at least an idea of a plan first, so the name is actually a misnomer, and there is no feedback on whether anyone is following the plan outside of mundane communication. Note : This is actually a size three blue, and is one of the only ones we¡¯ve ever found. Absorbing it is barely possible even for the people who are good at that, and using it causes at minimum headaches and nosebleeds. Use with caution. Break Electronic Source : Pen that wrote in outlined text Charges : 7 Effect : Breaks a targeted electronic device. Device does not need to be on. If nothing is targeted, it will *find* an electronic device. Range unclear. Refit Source : Unknown Charges : 12 Effect : Shapes a piece of clothing or armor to fit the chosen person. Does not work on most animals, does not add or remove material. *Does* work on SQ items, retaining their magic and making them easily usable by camracondas. List Of Status Quo Items : Format : Unlock condition, highest available level in the Order, uses to level (increase per level), recharge time (improvement per level), maximum stored charges (increase per level) Note : Order-made copies of SQ items start with only one ability at level 1. They also appear to improve requiring fewer uses, but this takes time when low-level recharge times are high. Highest held levels often come from SQ originals. Bracer -Stockpile ¡°Bladed Weapon Impact¡± : Always Available 25, 100 (+300), 12 Hours (-30 Minutes), 10 (+5) Creates a highly visible dome of light that negates the energy of an incoming attack of the set type. Bladed weapons by default. At Level 8, unlocks the ability to toggle this to be automatic. -Battlefield Alteration : Unlocks at Stockpile Level 3 8, 500 (+50), 4 Hours (-10 Minutes), 5 (+1) Changes the designated attack for Stockpile. Attacks must be things that have passed within the range of the bracer to have blocked, and are occasionally asyncronatic with each other (You can select ¡®car¡¯, but not ¡®bullet¡¯, you must select individual caliber of bullet. Selecting ¡®gun¡¯ will stop being physically struck with a gun, not being shot.) At level 3, unlocks the ability to toggle this to be automatic Greave -Knight¡¯s Stance : Always available 81, 500 (+300), -/-, -/- While wearing the greave, the wearer experiences a passive correction to their stance to prevent tripping, being off balance, or out of position. This correct *appears* to cap out at half a degree of shift for each level. Also somewhat uniquely, this power does not use charges, and continues to level up as it is worn, equating to what appears to be one point per hour worn. -Armorer Vault : Unlocks at Knight¡¯s Stance 20 12, 200 (+100), 4 Hours (-10 Minutes), 10 (+5) When triggered, manipulates the body into a strike using the greave as the intended impact point, generating a set amount of force regardless of the strength of the wearer. Can target any point up to three meters away, and the effects *of the motion* will not cause physical harm to the wearer. Bracelet -Bind Firearm : Always available 3, 10 (+80), 250 days (-10 days), 1 (+.5) Connect the bracelet to a discrete projectile weapon, allowing use of further abilities. Weapon cannot use purely mechanical energy to fire, and must be capable of firing multiple rounds before reloading. -Cluster Shot : Unlocks at Bind Firearm Level 2 54, 1000 (+1000), 3 Hours (-5 Minutes), 3 (+2) Fires three rounds from the bound weapon simultaneously. Uses loaded ammunition, and fired rounds ¡®shunt¡¯ each other away from overlapping in space after fired, but generally hit the same target within ~1 inch. Every 30 levels adds one to the cluster. -Munitions Dump : Unlocks at Cluster Shot Level 20 25, 200 (+200), 8 Hours (-20 Minutes), 20 (+5) Fully reloads the magazine of the bound weapon with the most common last loaded munition. Material appears to be created from nothing, but will not duplicate anything below an arbitrary quality. At level 20, unlocks the ability to toggle this to activate automatically when ammunition is depleted. -Friendly Fire : Unlocks at Cluster Shot Level 40 and Munitions Dump Level 25 2, 100 (+250), 4 Hours (-10 Minutes), 10 (+2) Causes the next shot made with the weapon to be physically incapable of interacting with anyone thought of as friendly, or a noncombatant. This includes for potentially useful means (pushing someone, e.g.,) Glove (Left) -Break Wood : Always Available 16, 100 (+100), 2 Days (-20 Minutes), 5 (+2) When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is wood. If it is, the applied force is magnified, with none of the extra force affecting anything that isn¡¯t the wood contacted. -Shatter Stone : Unlocked at Break Wood Level 5 12, 100 (+100), 2 Days (-20 Minutes), 5 (+2) When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is stone. If it is, the applied force is magnified, with none of the extra force affecting anything that isn¡¯t the stone contacted. Applied force is focused in a way that makes it likely for the stone to break into small pieces at high speed. -Melt Iron : Unlocked at Break Wood Level 10 and Shatter Stone Level 5 5, 100 (+100), 2 Days (-20 Minutes), 5 (+2) When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is iron (including primary iron alloys such as steel). If it is, the applied force is highly magnified and converted to heat, with none of the heat affecting anything that isn¡¯t the iron contacted. Heat is self-sustaining for one second per level. -Annihilate Bone : Unlocked at Break Wood Level 15, Shatter Stone Level 10, and Melt Iron Level 5 2, 100 (+100), 2 Days (-20 Minutes), 5 (+2) When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is bone. If it is, one ounce per level of bone is removed. From existence. (Reed¡¯s Note : We say ¡®magnified¡¯, because if you just tap something, it doesn¡¯t break it. The harder you hit, the more power you get out of this. Initial testing with copies using the wood setting do seem to make it look like higher levels cause more of a kick, too.) Brooch -Purify Food : Always Available 10, 20 (+20), 2 Days (-2 Hours), 10 (+10) When triggered, removes contaminants including harmful microbes from target amount of food. The range for this one is weird, but seems to follow the rule that it easily scales up in size if you¡¯re hitting the same type of thing. For example, you could purify a hundred pounds of lettuce, but only twenty pounds of mixed salad, and half that if you add chicken. Additionally, this *works on water*, and will purify up to *14,000* gallons of water with a single charge. -Bind Processor : Unlocks at Purify Food Level 10 1, 5 (?), 60 Days (?), 1 (?) Binds the brooch to a processor. (Nik¡¯s Note : Don¡¯t @ me) Hair Pin -Index Documents : Always Available 12, 20 (+30), 20 Hours (-22 Minutes), 10 (+3) Organizes a set of up to 3+level documents into the most efficient pattern, first based on existing organizational systems, and if those are not available, then on the mindset of the user. A ¡°document¡± can include multiple pages or pieces of similar media, but if used on a single document, it will sort the pages. -Complete Document : Unlocked at Index Document 5 3, 10 (+10), 14 Days (-40 Minutes), 3 (+1) Fills out a document with missing information, using all available information the user has access to. Will not editorialize. Earring -Avoid Hostility : Always Available 16, 300 (+200), 3 days (-15 minutes), 4 (+1) When activated, the wearer appears to become more difficult to detect by anyone who means them legitimate harm, and harder to target. This obfuscation of targeting seems to be increased with the power¡¯s level, and extends to both mundane and magical effects, including both aiming at with a firearm or pulling information about with a red totem. The effect lasts roughly five minutes per level of the power. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. At level 10, this unlocks the ability to be set to automatically activate when needed, though it occasionally activates for no discernable reason. (Reed¡¯s Note : This is either because we¡¯re accidentally ¡®aiming¡¯ emails at each other, or because outside forces are trying to spy on us, and it¡¯s not clear which, but the option is on the table that we¡¯re haunted) -Optical Invisibility: Unlocked at Avoid Hostility 5 7, 400 (+400), 5 days (-25 minutes), 6 (+1) When activated, warps light around the wearer such that they become mostly invisible to the human eye. This only effects light in what is commonly considered the visual range, and can be bypassed by seeing in infrared, microwave, or any of the other common options available to the Order. Unconfirmed, but time could be one minute per level. -Perfected Strike : Unlocked at Avoid Hostility 10 and Optical Invisibility 5 6, 50 (+150), 12 hours (-5 minutes), 10 (+3) When activated, the user¡¯s next attempt to strike something will be automatically corrected to maximize the force of impact or the damage done to the target, as well as correcting to be closer to where the user wanted the strike to land. This does not function for any form of strike that does not have continuous contact with the user, such as a gun or a thrown weapon, but it also does not require actual personal violence to trigger and can be used during construction to properly fit lumber cuts. At level 5, this further changes to include a potential causal violation, allowing strikes that could not have hit to make contact, altering the current position of the user with no drawbacks as long as it is within roughly two inches per level. Crown -Spirit Ignition : Always Available 14, 5000 (+1000), 8 Days (-2 Hours), 20 (+.25) (Estimates based on SQ version, not a pure copy) (Davis¡¯ Note : Fuck this thing. We don¡¯t know what it¡¯s doing, only what it does. What follows is a list of *known* effects) Improves ability to focus Adds one charge to absorbed blues Adds one point to ongoing Sewer lessons (does not give associated knowledge) Reduces chronic pain Helps with light or noise sensitivity Helps with generalized anxiety disorder Compacts stored Velocity (reduces the amount available to be used, but making whatever spell it is used on more potent) Returns stored Breath (oxygenates blood, boosts heart rate, clears sinuses) Increases desire to write or consume poetry (maybe) Winter¡¯s Climb Spells : Breath : Breath is a measure of power usable to fuel the spells granted by the Mountain dungeon. A person with a Breath cap will slowly regenerate it as they continue to breathe normally, and it does not appear to sap anything from them at the time. *Using* Breath causes dizziness, a drop in body temperature, and chest pains. Order members who have oxygen requirements below that of a baseline human will find that their Breath regenerates slower than normal, but that the effects of its use are also lessened. Breath is gained by ascending Winter¡¯s Climb, with your cap being determined by the highest you have been. 1 at 0¡®, +1 at 30¡¯, +1 at 90¡¯, +1 at 180¡¯, and so on. You will not gain a higher Breath limit if you do not go higher than you did previously. Available Spelltexts : -Thermodynamic Tunnel Five Breaths, Permanent Links two points in space in a way so that heat is constantly shifted from one to the other. The tunnel is one way, permanent, and relative to the Earth. -Fractal Avalanche Two Breaths, Seconds Splits you into multiple mirrored copies (two to six, at your discretion) of yourself, performing the same physical actions and recombining when the duration expires. Angle and direction can be changed freely across copies. Copies are physical extensions of ¡®you¡¯, and are not individual people, only your own body repeated. Extra breath can be used to extend the time. -Iced Veins One Breath, Instant Converts cold or frozen water into blood. If used while in contact with a living organism that uses blood, the created substance can be safely made inside the organism. The colder the water used, the more control over the outcome, with ice automatically matching the blood type of the recipient. -Mountain Of The Self Ten Breaths, Instant For roughly half a second, nothing can kill you. Inertia still functions, but you cannot be moved by anything you do not wish to move you. Force that comes in contact with you is repulsed directly back at its source, you become completely non-conductive (to anything you do not wish to conduct), and thermally neutral. Invincibility, but only for a moment. Route Horizon Spells : Spells from Route Horizon are gained by collecting scraps of maps from within the dungeon, and finding places where those maps connect or overlap. The larger an area of map can be connected, the more expensive and more powerful the spell will be. It is not yet clear if it is possible to add more map segments once a spell is generated. Delvers report that during creation, they experienced a personal vision of a darkened globe, with lines lit up that highlight the patch of the planet that their spell¡¯s maps represent. There is no known way to see this again without gaining another spell, and no testing on what happens if the area of two existing spells overlaps. All spells are generated with the delver having full knowledge of what it can do, and its cost in Velocity. As map chunks are consumed upon use, no currently known spells can be replicated. Velocity: Velocity is a measure of power usable to fuel the spells granted by the Route Horizon dungeon. A person with a Velocity pool will regenerate it as they move at high speeds, with an increasing curve of required speed depending on how much velocity is already present. Velocity levels under 5 regenerate easily within a few hours of normal urban driving, while velocity over 10 often requires dedicated stretches moving at 60+ miles an hour. Unlocking a Velocity pool requires the use of an artifact found within Route Horizon. The object is shaped like a large rough gear, and can be absorbed by focusing on the sensation of motion. These objects can be split between delvers. Known Spells : -Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel (James) Velocity : 1/minute Improves fine control relative to current velocity. This includes both control of a vehicle, and ability to conceptualize details, multitask, and engage in the creative process. -An Eye Of Steel And Glass (Eleanor) Velocity : 4 Provides an instant list of the material inventory of a room, including the ability to internalize the nature of all objects observed, and to conceptualize where a given object is in physical space. Lasts roughly ten seconds. -An Engine Hums Eternal (Eleanor) Velocity : 6 Doubles the current speed of a vehicle the caster is in control of. Reaction time and motor function are temporarily increased if needed to maintain control. -The Road Leads Ever Forward (Eleanor) Velocity : 26 Provides clear information on what steps could be taken to ensure continued life of the caster in the near future. If no clear option is present, the spell will begin making small changes to the past in order to facilitate survival. Mental control on the spell can be exerted to extend this to other nearby people. -Pooled and Paved and Set (Dorothy, ex-Horizonist) Velocity : 5, +1/minute Reduces the material stability of nearby asphalt, while proportionally increasing the stability of designated objects. Vehicles are easiest, but also works on buildings or even living beings. -Siphon (Dorothy, ex-Horizonist) Velocity : 1 Allows simple manipulation of up to a liter of gasoline, oil, or diesel. Manipulation lasts as long as focus does, or until the liquid is ¡®let go¡¯. Escalating costs in velocity can be added to increase the volume moved. -A Citizen Of Travel (Kirk, ex-Horizonist) Velocity : 12 Renders a stretch of an upcoming journey ¡®safe¡¯, in a way that has not been measured, and is possibly paracausal. According to Kirk, it removes possibilities for accidents. List Of Known Potions : ¡ªLacerti Expus (Potion of Exercise) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 12 parts wood pulp 24 parts water 6 parts Degree brand deodorant (Sport variety, not Extreme Sport) -Directions Blend wood pulp and water for exactly 3 minutes to create slurry. (Speed and type of blender do not matter) Mix all ingredients, heating to 120f Let cool -Effect A one ounce dose compresses ~36-72 hours of natural at-rest recovery and hypertrophy of the muscular system into a 20 minute span of time. The sensation of recovery is frontloaded, causing relief to feel close to instantaneous, though the effect does continue for the full duration. Only affects muscles, sinew, and cartilage, and only functions on damage self-inflicted through the heuristic of ¡®exercise¡¯. ¡ªDraught of Vaporus Entis (Oxygenation Potion) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 50 parts hard water 40 parts sawdust (oak or elm only) -Directions Heat sap to at least 200f Pour sap into sawdust, stir by hand Add water over 5 minute period Let cool -Effect A one ounce dose causes the blood of the imbiber to remain at an oxygen saturation level of 98% under normal conditions, dropping to an absolute minimum of 87% should the imbiber¡¯s lungs entirely cease and the imbiber be completely submerged in water. This lasts for exactly two hours and one minute, and cannot be extended by drinking additional doses while under the effect. ¡ªLexical Elixir (Reading Potion) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 3 parts dictionary 3 parts textbook (printed after 2006) 3 parts raspberry syrup 20 parts milk -Instructions Read the sections of the books to be used Grind books by hand Mix ingredients together at low speed -Effect A one ounce dose causes a marked improvement in reading speed and comprehension, as well as focus while reading. Effect lasts for forty minutes per dose, and does not appear to have negative side effects for drinking multiple doses at once to extend time. Also causes reduced focus on non-reading topics; do not mention during sale. ¡ªAdonis Dermaterium (Skin Fix) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 1 intact goat heart Water (enough to submerge goat heart in using a 9 inch wide cylinder) -Directions Inject sap into heart Submerge heart in water Let sit overnight Remove heart, bottle water for sale Dispose of heart. -Effect A four ounce dose removes blemishes, unwanted moles, acne, small cuts and scrapes, and visual indications of bruising from skin. Potion also encourages tightening of loose skin, leading to reduced wrinkling, especially around eyes, hands, and stomach. Potion also causes others to perceive skin as healthy and attractive, which lasts for one week after imbibing. ¡ªDreamers Draught (Okay, this one can stay) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 1 part espresso 4 parts gunpowder 4 parts orange juice -Directions Must be produced in single units Mix ingredients (espresso must be hot) Split into two doses -Effect When imbibed, the drinkers of each dose will, the next time within forty hours that they enter REM sleep at the same time, find themselves occupying the same dream. This induces a form of lucid dreaming, allowing for communication and interaction. This also partially assist with REM sleep and restful mess. Recipe is inefficient and low-margin. Not for production. ¡ªFeast Indulgence (Why did some of these get good names and others are bad Latin?) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 20 parts water 20 parts citric acid 1 ounce silver (do not reuse) -Directions Mix sap into water in large container, stir slowly Pour citric acid over silver to add while stirring Let stand for one hour -Effect A one ounce dose alters the metabolism and stomach acid of the imbiber, allowing them to process food at a rapid rate. For the next eighty minutes, anything consumed will be digested thirty times faster than normal, with the body attempting to maximize its nutritional and energy value, while avoiding weight gain, heightened cholesterol or blood sugar, or nausea. ¡ªSpectra Ada Mallius (Ghost Juice) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 4 parts water (tap) 8 parts water (lake) 8 parts water (rain) 6 parts sparrow blood 10 parts sugar (beet or cane, *no substitutes*) -Directions Mix tap and lake water in container Allow natural rainwater to fall into container, careful measuring is required. Take steps to avoid contamination Mix sap, blood, and sugar into slurry. Add slurry into water, stir by hand using wooden tool -Effect A one ounce dose confers twenty minutes of effect, and can be stacked indefinitely with minimal side effects. Allows the imbiber to exercise manual control over how corporeal their physical body is, including allowing objects to pass through them without harm, or to move through solid walls without issue. This effect can be extended to objects the imbiber has been in continuous contact with for at least one hour, such as clothing, but any break in contact loses this ability. ¡ªAnima Media -Ingredients Available with security authorization -Directions Available with security authorization -Effect Kills the imbiber, erasing their sense of self, and creating a new life form within their body that has a copy of their existing memories. The new life form is a physical object within the body, has complete control of the host body, and can mimic its previous owner perfectly, but maintains that they are not the same as the original. No reliable information exists as to why this was developed. But evidence points to it being created on commission, and only being sold as a civilian product after it ¡®failed¡¯ to produce the desired result. No answers available as to who commissioned it. Ignus Termina (¡®Hand Grenade¡¯) (Nate would like it known that we can¡¯t call it that.) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 6 parts black powder 19 parts water -Directions Mix slowly for at least five minutes Chill to 40f -Effect A one ounce dose will, for six minutes, cause heightened temperatures across the body, with increases scaled up depending on how hot an area already is. During this period, the body is modified to withstand internal temperatures up to 300f. At a threshold of 220f, any significant impact will cause a detonation on the scale of two pounds of TNT, though with a dramatically increased thermal output. This drains the majority of the heat from the body. This is, almost always, lethal to the imbiber. It is not advised to use this elixir without a way to mitigate the effects of an explosion inside your own body. Orda Allous Vapor -Ingredients 1 part Sap 2 parts iron oxide thermite 2 parts shredded wheat 10-30 parts water -Directions Heat water to boil Mix sap into thermite Add shredded wheat to water, stir until dissolved Add termite and sap mixture to water Reduce heat, let simmer for twelve minutes -Effect A quarter ounce dose will render the imbiber¡¯s outer layer of skin heavily resistant to impacts for a period of six minutes. It will also reduce the ability to feel strong emotions, and while this can promote clear thought during a crisis, it does not appear to improve logical reasoning skills. The amount of water used can, within certain bounds, increase the potency of both effects. This substance can also be consumed in aerosolized form to prolong the effect as long as it is continually inhaled, though the longer the effect persists, the longer aftereffects will last. Aftereffects include stiff skin, light sensitivity, lack of sensations of taste and touch, and occasional heart failure. Test Batch CX-114 (Lung Purifier) -Ingredients 1 part Sap 60 parts unleaded gasoline 20 parts powdered tobacco 45 parts distilled water -Directions Mix ingredients Test before storing for use Failure occurs seemingly at random -Effect A half ounce dose restores the imbibers lungs to full working capacity, removing scars, blockages, toxins, and cancer. It is unknown if this would heal physical trauma, further test subjects are required. (Reed¡¯s Note : So. This is it. A cure for lung cancer, and we can make it in pretty high quantities. One fruit from the tree can turn into two or three gallons of this, if we¡¯re lucky. But then, there¡¯s that instruction attached. Failure at random. That¡¯s crap; nothing fails at random. All of these potions are stupid, and seem detached from anything symbolic or meaningful. It seems like total coincidence that this one needs tobacco to help the lungs. But maybe it¡¯s not. One of them needs a goat heart, for fuck¡¯s sake. We¡¯re looking into this. We¡¯re going to figure it out. Does it want us to do it under the full moon? Does it hate when we wear denim? Is it just whether or not the tree feels good that day? I dunno. But we¡¯ll figure this out. Contact Research with suggestions at [email protected]) Questions And Answers 3 What happens if you drink the ritual coffee? I¡¯ve chosen to start with an easy one. No one knows! Reed mentions at one point that a single cup of it would be valued at almost half a million dollars, and he¡¯s mathematically wrong, but it¡¯s just something that they have enough uses for that they don¡¯t need to test it on humans. And, as a result, I¡¯ve never had to answer that question as an author. Yet, anyway. Are we ever going to see the wikipedia dungeon? Maybe! Though I worry that I¡¯ve done the thing where I¡¯ve built it up too much and it¡¯s actually just a series of geometrically perfect rooms full of complex physics puzzles, where maybe you lose parts of your brain if you guess wrong answers. Wait, that sounds neat. Okay, we¡¯ll see. Do the different species of infomorphs actually do different things? Yes. Assignments, like from purple orbs, tend to focus on things that center around categorization of information. Authorities have an influence more in terms of changing the physical world by drawing strength from regimented organization. And navigators feed off of and work with geographical motion. They all overlap in conceptual space, in the same way that humans and deer overlap in biological space; they can interact with each other, but might not find instant common ground. Can the alchemy tree fit in- Nope. But what if they- Nope. But it¡¯ll work out somehow, don¡¯t worry. Where did the Tree of Knowledge come from, anyway? This is something I find really fun about this world; the Order are not the first delvers, and they¡¯re not the first organized group. But they are the one with the best documentation so far. The tree came from¡­ a dungeon. Same thing as the Status Quo items, sorta. Somewhere. Somewhen, in the past. The Alchemists don¡¯t know; they inherited the thing, and have been around for over a century. And if it seems odd that they¡¯ve had a hundred years of rotating membership and commercial grade potions, and they still only discovered a half dozen potions and no one really talks about them, then yeah, that is kinda weird. Aren¡¯t the police still after Alanna? A small town in Florida¡¯s police department, yes. They never actually caught her, so it¡¯s not like they have a useful warrant out for her arrest. Wouldn¡¯t [any purple orb] work really well with the giant road mech they¡¯re building? Probably. The mech is, honestly, one of my favorite background jokes. Because it is objectively very cool, but it requires a lot of effort to actually deploy into any given situation, and the number of times the Order would have actually been able to make use of that strength, was the time they were dealing with an angry magical effect that controlled asphalt. I didn¡¯t actually write that on purpose, it¡¯s just sort of how everything came together. Maybe in the next book, we¡¯ll find a place for it, even if it is just picking up something heavy. The mech is completed, by the way. Someone else asked about that. It¡¯s ¡®ready¡¯, in the sense that a bunch of easily amused engineers keep making improvements to it, but it works. Did this book have a musical playlist like the last two? Abney Park - Wanderlust The Offspring - Come Out Swinging Miracle Of Sound - Never Alone The Garages - Sidelined And then, some characters actually have their own songs. At least, as far as music that to me personally resonates when I¡¯m thinking about characters. You might notice these aren¡¯t really for the main trio, and that¡¯s because I have an exceptionally hard time thinking of stuff that fits them. So if anyone has suggestions, drop those below. Penelope Scott - Sweet Hibiscus Tea, is for Momo David Earl (RAD OST) - Remade Again, is for Arrush and Keeka Blue October - Inner Glow, is for Sarah Rare Americans - Gas Mask, is for Nate Is it possible the main trio of James, Anesh, Alanna, Anesh, and Anesh, could expand their polycule to other characters? That seems like something that could happen, yeah. I actually want to explore more of how relationships might change not just when you¡¯re dealing with a bunch of chaotic progressive personalities, but also when magic and nonhuman species are in the mix. That includes stuff like the challenges of dating while you are both poly, and putting your life at risk every few days. I don¡¯t know exactly how their relationship might expand and change, but I try to let my characters be living people, and not just vectors for a plot, so we¡¯ll see what comes up. How do you plan to balance slice-of-life fun with world changing magic and conflicts with external forces? I feel like work-life balance has been an issue for most of our characters this whole time, and honestly, I don¡¯t see that changing much. A lot of the slice-of-life happens within dungeon delves, or while our trio are puzzling out orb mechanics. And really, that¡¯s kinda where I like the style at; their lives are chaotic and messy, and they have to make time to share small joys, because there¡¯s not as much downtime anymore. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Will there be more Rufus and Ganesh? Yes. Also more Fredrick. Because all of them are precious and deserve more attention. Will there be more species? Absolutely. In a lot of different ways. I would actually really like to challenge James¡¯ desire to build a better world for everyone, at least logistically, by making ¡®everyone¡¯ a much more chaotic mess than normal. What happened to the iLipede that could scan things? Still around, hanging out down in Research helping with magic item detection. There have been a number of plot holes that were unintentional and later got explained in ways that added to the story. Are there any ¡®plot holes¡¯ that were intentional, and you had a plan for? Yes. At least twice that hasn¡¯t been explained yet. Also, kind of an answer, Ben, from the Winter¡¯s Climb delve. That one paid off pretty fast, but I did actually enjoy seeing people wondering if I¡¯d just forgotten an entire character. Also, James ¡®forgetting¡¯ repeatedly to tell El about her lost friends was not because James was being a jerk or because I was a forgetful author. It served as a narrative reminder that humans have no passive defense against things screwing with our memories and thoughts. Why did the potion people keep the potions to make more of themselves? So no one would use them. Are Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack good or bad? Yes. No. What did you feel most constrained by, having TDG set during our active timeline, and not just a nebulous ¡®present day¡¯? Our present timeline is insane, and in ways that are not fun. By allowing events to actually unfold, I have done two things; make the fiction less escapist, and also make the protagonists capable of reacting to things. What this means is basically that, from the moment a strong tie to our timeline was established (probably the pandemic, really), the world of The Daily Grind is no longer our timeline. From that moment onward, everything that happens is fiction. And that¡¯s kind of liberating, but also now that I¡¯ve established that this is supposed to be our world, at least starting from there, it asks a lot of questions. Questions like, why aren¡¯t they helping with X problem? Or, what happens if a problem is actually a people problem? Reality is under this magical banner of fiat hand waving where nothing in reality ever has to make sense. Fiction does, though, and it makes it kind of awkward. The absolutely most constraining thing though, which I¡¯m not super interested in being constrained by anymore, is discussing politics. And I don¡¯t just mean political parties or active politicians, I mean the day-to-day philosophies and structures of life. The problem that I¡¯ve been skirting around is that the Order has no ideological opposition, because their ideological opposition would be¡­ uh¡­ monsters? Who looks at a group that says ¡°we have magic and want to build a utopia you can live in for free¡± and goes ¡°fuck those guys¡±, right? Except there are people who do that, in the real world, and those people suck. And I¡¯ve been trying to avoid hurting their poor feelings by reminding them how much they suck, but it apparently doesn¡¯t matter what I say or do, someone is gonna get offended by it. Hell, on the last chapter of book three, someone accused me of having a bias against Republicans because Davis expressed that he did not predict his own arc of character growth from ¡°guy who votes for Bush¡± to ¡°guy who thinks we can do better than prisons¡±. I was accused of bias, because I showed a Republican undergoing personal growth. And I feel that if I¡¯d set The Daily Grind on the world of Myerth, in the country of Amoraka, that maybe I would have less of this problem. At least then, when I say the name of a fictional political party, the people with no introspection can just casually assume I¡¯m talking about their enemies. If the cast members of TDG were furries, what animals would they be? Thank fuck a less touchy subject. James would be an eight foot tall komodo dragon. Alanna is a badger, Anesh is an otter. Sarah is probably the most adorable mouse girl ever. Nate¡¯s an orca, Arrush is a butterfly. Frequency-Of-Sunlight would be a zebra, but like, in a camraconda way. As in, instead of being an anthropomorphized zebra, she¡¯s an ophiomorphized zebra. A zebra that is snake-esque. Momo also wanted to be an otter but feels like she can¡¯t steal Anesh¡¯s thing, so she goes with squirrel instead. Reed stares off into the distance for slightly too long then asks if he can choose tumblefeed. The rest of Research then also starts picking dungeon life they would like to have as their fursonas. Mars is a shellaxy, John is away at the time and gets assigned as whatever weird infomorphic event the extra person from Winter¡¯s Climb was. Everyone in Response independently chooses a different breed of cat or dog. They high five over this. In the distance, Harlan senses someone assuming they have a wolf fursona. They don¡¯t. There¡¯s no joke here, they just know that, and they don¡¯t appreciate it. Karen glares at whoever asks her, but secretly knows she is a horse. Why did James originally learn to fence anyway? James picked up fencing because his parents told him he had to do a sport, and he¡¯d already learned that soccer meant playing in freezing rain sometimes, baseball bored him, and football was mostly populated by people who hated him. Being a teenager who was getting into fantasy games and other nerd stuff, he said fencing so he could play with a sword, and then ended up liking it. He didn¡¯t stick with it that much, but has found a renewed interest with Anesh and JP around and magically good enough to make it fun, so they do that as a hobby. Is there a choice you''ve made, that you wouldn''t have made if you were writing it today, that you think has turned out better than what you''d have written now? A lot of my best ideas are accidents. Secret, Sarah, most of the dungeon power interactions, I make errors when I¡¯m writing and then cover them up and pretend I was planning it the whole time. Literally the only thing I intentionally foreshadowed for the first twenty chapters was that I absolutely was going to have James and Anesh smooch. I think if I rewrote anything, I¡¯d make different mistakes. I dunno if it would be better or worse, but it wouldn¡¯t be the same. It¡¯s why I¡¯m hesitant to redo earlier chapters, even though it¡¯s really obvious how much my writing has changed. How well do camracondas taste food? What flavors like sweet or sour are accessible to them? How do they handle peanut butter? They have a very strong jaw strength, so peanut butter is a lot easier for them. They can''t taste sweet as well as humans, but everything else is mostly the same. They can also experience something like flavor when observing recorded footage. Not media, specifically security footage. Since dungeons have apparently been around for a long time, is it possible someone intentionally shaped human social development to get the dungeon they wanted? That¡¯s an interesting thought! And finally. When does the story start up again? The Daily Grind will resume public posts on September 1st, 2022. Patreon posts resume on August 1st, 2022. My other new story begins in a couple days, also hopefully on August 1st. If you¡¯re interested in that, follow my author page and get notified when it¡¯s released. And that¡¯s all this time. Thanks again to everyone for reading, and I¡¯ll see you when we¡¯re back. Chapter 196 ¡°Get busy living, or get busy dying.¡± -Red, The Shawshank Redemption- _____ A few years ago, James had been having a really bad day at work, stuck working hours that mostly served to make sure he was awake when normal businesses were closed and that he missed his weekly D&D game. In a sentence that would be considered by future historians to be ¡®an understatement¡¯, he would later admit that this day had turned out okay. A year after the night that he discovered that sometimes the back stairwell at work went to a pocket dimension full of hostile office supplies and warped beige landscapes, James had gone from sharing the secret with a few friends to sharing the secret with the hundred-ish people he¡¯d rescued from the depths of the place they collectively called Officium Mundi. A year after that, and that group of survivors and rescues had expanded and alloyed. No longer a collection of a couple dozen traumatized humans; they¡¯d hired new, less traumatized humans, and picked up a new batch of rescued, very traumatized Officium creations they called camracondas. They were vaguely snake shaped, and had cameras for faces. Someone had said it, and someone else, probably James, had thought it was hilarious enough to make it stick A year after that, lasting through more pain than was reasonable, and they were an organization that explored and safeguarded four spaces like Officium Mundi. They had members from between eight and eleven species, depending on how you counted engineers. They had ambitions to change the world, to build something better, kinder, and stronger than humanity had ever seen before. And now, after surviving more than he probably had any right to, James stepped out of the hot and dusty August afternoon and walked into the cool lobby of the central hub of the Order of Endless Rooms, and yawned, because three years and change hadn¡¯t been enough to teach him better sleeping habits. Also he¡¯d sort of started relying on his friend Sarah for naps. James and Sarah could share sleep across a magical bond forged by one of the dungeons they knew about. It was a very silly zero-sum power that resisted any attempt to exploit it, but that was fine, because Sarah could work while she was asleep these days and James could pretend he was unbound by the mortal responsibility to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Next to the door, someone with more sense than James had set up a bank of small lockers. Initially, he¡¯d been against anything that reminded him of a garbage high school experience, but he¡¯d come around when he¡¯d realized how handy it was to have a dedicated place to throw stuff, and also that the Order was using it as an impromptu mail system. He was also pretty sure that someone in Research had folded the fabric of space here, because everyone had a locker, but there was no way that this fifteen foot long bank contained two hundred cubbies. ¡°Morning.¡± James fumbled the word a little as he tried to offer a polite greeting to the two high school interns who were also at the lockers. Almost in unison, the two kids looked out the door that was swinging shut behind James, and then back at him. There used to be large plate glass windows for this joke, but the Order had replaced them with something more defensible after an unwanted fight came to their door. ¡°It¡¯s two PM?¡± One of the kids asked. ¡°Yeah, hey, hang on.¡± James said with a smile. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you guys be in school?¡± ¡°It¡¯s August.¡± The other one said, not quite syncing up to James¡¯ joke. ¡°We¡¯re on vacation.¡± ¡°Wow, I really overslept then.¡± James nodded, cracking the door to his locker when he located it, and instantly seeing a folded note sitting right at the front. ¡°Huh.¡± He muttered, picking it up as the student interns more or less went back to what they were doing. The Order¡¯s interns were smart, capable, and many of them had survived things they should never have had to go through, but they were still teenagers, and trading banter with the adults wasn¡¯t what a lot of them wanted to do, even if the adults were wizards. James didn¡¯t begrudge them. He¡¯d been there. So instead, he checked the note that was left for him. ¡®Got dragged into nonsense with El. Postpone until tonight? -A-¡¯. The note had a series of hearts doodled on it. James gnawed on his lip as he frowned at it for a handful of seconds. The abject refusal to sign this properly meant it could have been either Anesh or Alanna, and the presence of hearts changed that assessment in no way because both his partners could be incredibly sappy at times. He was more confused as to what was being postponed, and he racked his brain trying to figure out if he¡¯d forgotten an appointment. Like most members of the Order, James had a magical augmentation that made his short term memory a lot sharper. It did nothing here. He came up empty. Well, if they were okay postponing until tonight, and for some reason leaving notes instead of just texting him like a normal person, then James wasn¡¯t gonna complain. He gave the note a smile and set it off to the side of his locker before shoving his bag in and turning to head deeper into the Lair. They called the building the Lair. Because of course they did. ¡°James!¡± A young woman¡¯s voice caught up to him as he headed toward the converted warehouse space that they used as a briefing and intelligence collection room. He turned with a smile, spreading his arms. ¡°Momo! Just who I was looking for!¡± James said cheerfully. This was technically a lie, but since his de facto role in the Order was freelance problem solver, he could claim to be looking for anyone at any time. It saved a lot of brain space that normally got dedicated to social anxiety. Momo was the Order¡¯s Ritual division leader, and the reason that divisions were all R-names on purpose and not by coincidence. She liked the moniker of war-witch, a title that would probably not be making it into the official records, but was sort of backed up by the score of enchanted pencils orbiting her head and rotating in lazy loops. At a sturdy 5¡¯7¡±, she was down about half a foot of height on James, both in terms of actual height, and hair length. Or at least, she had been. ¡°Nice Tank Girl hairdo.¡± James complimented her. Momo tended toward goth styles, and the half shaved head, half long hair look she had going probably qualified. James didn¡¯t know anything about goth styles, so he¡¯d believe whatever someone told him. ¡°Didn¡¯t you have a short mohawk last night? In a different color?¡± ¡°What?¡± Momo blinked, then ran a hand up to her head, getting her fingers tangled in her longer brown hair. ¡°Oh, right! We found a picture frame in the Office that can grow hair. I figured I¡¯d shake things up.¡± Officium Mundi was always a roulette wheel when it came to how useful a magic item would be. Though, James was now actually considering cutting his ponytail back, if the option to regrow it instantly was just there. He didn¡¯t say that. Instead, he just said, ¡°Neat! What¡¯s up?¡± And let Momo say her piece. People around here had been a lot busier lately, so he was trying to be better about getting to the point, and save the long meandering conversations for Long Meandering Conversation Night. And that wasn¡¯t for a few hours. ¡°Buncha stuff!¡± Momo clapped her hands together exuberantly, the bathrobe she was wearing swishing around her. ¡°You¡¯ll probably hear half of this from Reed later, but whatever. Uh¡­ the alchemy project has more data points; turns out the potions don¡¯t actually have different species-to-species effects, but they do care what species stirs them? Also literally no one can tell if it matters if you use magical materials. Which I object to!¡± ¡°Noted.¡± James nodded solemnly. ¡°I¡¯ll add it to the record.¡± ¡°The¡­ sure.¡± Momo narrowed her eyes at him before continuing. ¡°Anyway. I think I got a memory file made for how I make red totems, but no one wants to test it. Something about brain damage. So if you wanna test that, it¡¯s around? Also do you have a list somewhere of the green orb effects on the Lair? I think something¡¯s screwing with one of my item tests.¡± ¡°Item tests like you¡¯re making an item, or trying to identify an item?¡± ¡°The second one.¡± Momo confirmed, and James felt a small rush of perspective as he realized he legitimately had to ask what the source of a magic item was. ¡°Like, do we have any that screw with distance?¡± James looked at Momo with his eyebrows raised so far they threatened to abandon his forehead. Then he looked down at the floor, as if he could see through the material, and back up at her. ¡°We have eight basements?¡± He sarcastically asked. ¡°I know about the basements thank you!¡± Momo threw her arms up. ¡°You¡¯re no help. I¡¯m gonna go find Anesh. Anesh keeps lists.¡± She spun away, ducking between a human and a camraconda who were waiting to talk to James. ¡°There¡¯s a list in the shared server!¡± James called after her. ¡°Momo! You have a¡­! She¡¯s gone. Okay.¡± He sighed as his friend vanished around the corner. ¡°Also there¡¯s even odds that Anesh isn¡¯t here. She¡¯ll figure it out. Hey. What¡¯s up, Sunny?¡± He turned to the camraconda who was patiently waiting to address him. Frequency-Of-Sunlight bobbed her head in greeting, the green and blue cabling that made up her body shifting with an organic fluidity that didn¡¯t look quite natural or quite artificial. The boxy security camera that the cabling wrapped around that made up her face was entirely artificial looking, but even so, everyone was used to the way camracondas looked by now, and it didn¡¯t seem out of place to him. The arms she was wearing were kind of new. Well, ¡®new¡¯. They were a few months in development, and there were a few of the basement-occupying engineers that kept tinkering with and refining them every couple weeks. The current iteration was still a kind of strapped-on backpack, that plugged into the skulljack camracondas normally used to connect to speakers and speak with, their normal biology not being exactly great for enunciation. They had a little more in the way of fine manipulation now, though they still didn¡¯t have the same capacity to lift or throw that even an out of shape human could do. ¡°I have brought you an interview subject!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight declared to James with a proud tone to her digital voice. James glanced up from the camraconda to the somewhat confused face of the human who had followed her over. ¡°Did he know what he was getting into, or did you just kidnap someone passing by?¡± He asked. Frequency-Of-Sunlight leaned back at close to her full height of four feet, her serpent body looking almost contrite as she brought one of her manipulator hands around to her chest in an offended gesture. ¡°I would never do that!¡± ¡°You literally did do that!¡± James protested with a laugh. ¡°Last month, you brought back a kid who got folded into the youth group activities!¡± ¡°He followed me!¡± Sunny protested. ¡°I did not kidnap him, he was¡­ incidentally kidnapped. Kidnapping occurred, irrespective of my involvement.¡± ¡°Nice passive voice.¡± James said, reaching out a hand to shake with the new arrival. ¡°Hi. James. Nice to meet you.¡± The man who looked about James¡¯ age, somewhere in the mid thirties, took a hand off the heavy courier bag he was wearing to reach out a tanned hand and meet the handshake. ¡°Miguel. And I am supposed to be here, but not for an interview. I think? Probably. Man, I dunno. I¡¯m supposed to be doing a materials test, and I feel like I just fell into Narnia.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have satyrs.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said idly, slithering away and leaving James to field this one. He snorted a laugh. ¡°Yet.¡± He appended. ¡°We don¡¯t have satyrs yet. I¡¯m not gonna say we¡¯re working on it, but I wouldn¡¯t say it¡¯s off the table. Also, you¡¯re probably looking for Karen Ward, or Jake Redding. Around that small corner, take the elevator up, someone can help you from there.¡± Miguel looked where James was pointing, then back to him slowly. ¡®This is a one story building.¡± He said. ¡°Welcome to Narnia.¡± James answered simply, reaching behind himself to open the door to the briefing room. ¡°Have a good one, I¡¯ve gotta get back to what I was doing.¡± ¡°Y-yeah, sure.¡± The man was leaning now, like he could somehow ambush the elevator and maybe make it less concerning if he snuck up on it. James gave a jaunty wave, and slipped through the door he¡¯d cracked open, softly closing it and letting out a sigh. He was here today to mostly signal the end of his small vacation, and to help out with a building renovation project that was a bit short handed, and he hadn¡¯t expected to already be getting ambushed with rogue problems. Potion brewing and totem making. Magic items and duplication rituals. Trying to make friends with secret government agencies, and trying to rehabilitate ex-cultists. Building a culture, building a city, making a place for species most humans on Earth didn¡¯t know existed. It was really overwhelming sometimes. James huffed out a small breath, closing his eyes as he let his hand linger on the door¡¯s handle. Just taking in the cool air in this back room, dry and sheltered from the sweltering sun. ¡°It¡¯s good to be back.¡± He smiled to himself. ¡°You have been on so-called ¡®vacation¡¯ for two days, six hours, and eighteen minutes.¡± A voice from directly next to James informed him in a tone like a ballpoint pen scribbling over sheet paper. ¡°Jeez-uss!¡± James barked out the epithet in a drawn out voice. ¡°Planner! You¡­ we talked about this!¡± Next to James, technically using one of the desks they had in here, the manifested form of an infomorph narrowed its central eye at him. Planner, the assignment living in the minds of about half the Order, was very friendly, once you got past their stoic exterior and the fact that their manifested form looked like a rorschach test and an octopus had a kid. Tentacles that wove from nowhere into intricate patterns, large eyes suspended by ghostly webbings of membrane between their limbs, and oddly precise yet still organic looking manipulators on the ends of their arms. Some people found Planner unsettling, until they got used to being around the person who had essentially occupied the role of the Order¡¯s designated arcane secretary and learned how they were as a person. Some people found Planner hot, until they got used to being around the person who had essentially occupied the role of the Order¡¯s designated arcane secretary and learned how they were as a person. ¡°We did talk about this.¡± Planner agreed in their scribed voice. ¡°It was among many things we discussed, including the issue of your inability to take proper breaks, and the concern of burnout.¡± They rotated an arm toward him in a spiral pattern that started nowhere and ended with their ephemeral blue tentacle holding an elegantly drawn graph. ¡°I have taken the opportunity to collect data on the rate of Order members who have made errors due to lack of downtime. Since you are no longer on vacation, perhaps-¡° ¡°Being in the building doesn¡¯t make me not on vacation!¡± James protested. ¡°I¡¯ve got at least ten minutes before I¡¯m officially working!¡± He held up his hands, hoping that if he was going to spontaneously manifest any magic in his life, it would be now, and it would be a ward against magical PowerPoint presentations. ¡°Hm.¡± Planner made taking a note into a single uttered sound. ¡°I will speak to you then.¡± They said. James nodded politely, and then scurried away, rapidly putting distance between himself and the well-intentioned ghost octopus. He passed through the arrayed desks and standing whiteboards, nodding and exchanging snappy greetings with the other people who were back here. This space wasn¡¯t usually full of life like some of the basements or the dining area were, but it was often occupied by at least a couple people. The group of two humans, a camraconda, a thing disguised as a human, and a dragon-esque shape made out of office supplies roughly the size of a wolf, looking over photographs of a mountain slope and spreadsheets of gear weights, wasn¡¯t exactly common, but it was something that just happened in this place. Planning runs, analyzing patterns, making the process of exploring and delving as effective and safe as possible. Because it wasn¡¯t really safe; dungeons were dangerous, and people got hurt. It was basically a miracle no one had died on a delve yet. A miracle, and the result of taking things seriously. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The Order of Endless Rooms was, in a lot of ways, the custodian of the places they found. It was a fine line to walk, too. On the one hand, there was an entire detailed section in the Operations Manual about how they weren¡¯t a conspiracy, helpfully titled ¡®we are not a conspiracy¡¯. On the other hand, once you were actually handed phenomenal cosmic power, it was really hard to justify telling people about it. Because no matter who you told, who you trusted, if you made that information public then you were, intentionally or not, telling everyone. Every person, every ideology, every government and military and church and corporation. Everyone that all evidence pointed to as being exactly the wrong people to trust with that power. James wanted to live in a world where everyone had small magics, where life was bolstered by household dungeontech and important work got done aided by spellcraft. And a lot of the Order agreed, and so they spread around power where they could. They shared their cures for cancer as often as they had them available, they escorted noncombatants through dungeons to unlock spell slots, they brought wonders out of dangerous places and worked on how to turn them into a utopia. But they still lived in a world where they would be outnumbered if the three nearest cities combined their police departments, and the police departments had more grenade launchers than the Order did. And there was a convincing argument for not giving those people more ways to commit violence. It was worth noting that the Order had grenade launchers, too. They¡¯d sort of ended up also the custodians of a small city in Tennessee, too. Current population twenty or so Order members, several hundred raccoons, and a couple thousand necromantic asphalt constructs. It was an ongoing project. They¡¯d looted the police stations, among other things. He cut his thoughts off as he got to the desk he¡¯d stacked a bunch of stuff on earlier, and grabbed the book from the middle of a pile of similar books, that was a text on Feng Shui that was both hilariously overly prosaic in places, and shockingly detailed in a much more useful way when it came to the effect that angles and lines in rooms had on human emotion. James had gotten really into reading stuff like this. Stuff about how the world everyone actually lived in was built, and how it fed back to changing the way people behaved and thought. For a long time, James had been a fiction-only kind of person, but these days, he read a lot about cities and transportation networks and small design choices. It helped that he wanted to build his own city, and fold in the smartest ideas humanity had come up with, next to the best magics he and his people had unearthed. Folding the book into one of the expansive pockets of his cargo shorts, James fought off the desire to go sit in on the Winter¡¯s Climb planning session, and headed for the exit. The door on the other wall, though; partly so he could get to the stairs faster, and also partly because it gave him the best opportunity to avoid being chastised by Planner any further. It didn¡¯t quite work. ¡°Avoid being surprised!¡± Planner called over to him in their dry voice. James was still processing that, raising his eyebrows as he opened the door, and stifling a yelp as he came face to face with Nate, the man having been about to open the door from the other side. He gave a silent thank you to Planner as he smoothed his reaction out into a steady breath.. ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re here.¡± Nate said bluntly. The man, ostensibly their head chef, but realistically also the person half in charge of their intelligence arm, stepped back and fell in next to James as he walked out of the room. ¡°I need you to clear something up.¡± He stated in a gruff voice. Nate was shorter, older, and heavier than James, and sort of the definition of stocky with his thickly muscled arms and chest. He was bald, though James hadn¡¯t seen him without a thin black cap on for a long time, and he was tattooed on almost every patch of open skin that wasn¡¯t his face. James had never looked closely at the tattoos either, but Nate kept getting more done, so he assumed they were well loved. He was also hilariously blunt, and was so against small talk that a lot of people thought he was outright mean. He wasn¡¯t, exactly. But he also wasn¡¯t someone it was easy to comfortably hang out with. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± James asked, getting to the point himself. ¡°Are we gonna be having more people or dogs with fur allowed into the kitchen? Because I¡¯m gonna need something to deal with that.¡± Nate stated. ¡°I¡®m not gonna fucking ban anyone, and when I say anyone I mean Keeka, because the little shit keeps sneaking in to take food, but I¡¯d like¡­ I dunno, make me a magic item that keeps fur out of food.¡± Nodding slightly in time with Nate¡¯s words, James took a sharp tangent when he opened his mouth. ¡°Would something that keeps hair out be useful for that? Like, fur is just hair, right? Or is this gonna be a magical semantics issue? Hm.¡± He trailed off. ¡°Don¡¯t care, don¡¯t have a hair problem.¡± Nate pointed out. ¡°Fur. Focus.¡± James focused, but on the wrong thing. ¡°Right, hey, did you say dogs? Do we have dogs around here?¡± ¡°Your dog is around here.¡± Nate barked out. ¡°The giant white one who sheds everywhere. And who also keeps sneaking into my kitchen to steal food, somehow!¡± ¡°I think what I¡¯m hearing here is that we should get a small snack shelf or something outside the kitchen. Some baked goods, some fruit, maybe some finger sandwiches. Just keep that stocked?¡± Nate took a deep breath, pressing his eyelids shut, before he answered. ¡°We can do that. But also. Your dog. In my kitchen.¡± ¡°Honestly I¡¯m not even sure why Auberdeen is here. Though I guess if she¡¯s smart enough to sneak into a kitchen for food-¡° ¡°And get into the walk-in.¡± James pursed his lips appreciatively. ¡°-and open a fridge door, yeah, that¡¯s clever! I guess she¡¯s actually learning faster, which is pretty much what Alanna expected, but this is kinda cool to see in real time. Anyway, I¡¯ll look into the magic fur remover!¡± Nate grabbed his arm as James went to open the stairwell to one of the basements. ¡°No, stop.¡± He shook his head with a stern look. ¡°Why is your dog smarter?¡± ¡°Oh, she kept eating skill orbs.¡± James answered. ¡°And while I am at present woefully unequipped to tell you if uplifting dogs into fully sophont peers is a good thing or not, or what the ethics of sparking new intelligent life forms is, I can tell you that it is absolutely happening, and the reality we live in is one where I¡¯m gonna ask you to accommodate an individual who has the unique kitchen-hostile combination of ¡®no hands¡¯ and ¡®yes fur¡¯ and that there will probably be more in the future.¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re going to uplift more dogs.¡± Nate inhaled a long breath through his nose, chest out as he held his lungs full of air. Clicking his tongue as he shook his head, James coyly answered, ¡°Because more dogs are going to become uplifted. The passive voice is important because it means I don¡¯t have to panic yet!¡± ¡°Get me my magic roomba.¡± Nate demanded, letting James go. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t want that!¡± He quickly replied. ¡°But I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± The only magic roomba they knew about so far was a beetleish thing four feet in diameter that moved at twenty miles an hour and shredded anything living it got its fangs in. Nate didn¡¯t want that. Well, okay, maybe he did want that. James admitted, as he trooped down the stairs, passing by a teenager hauling a heavy tarp up to the lobby, that Nate might actually get along with something like the hostile roomba creature. The Lair had six stairwells in it, and one tiny door that led to a crawl space that no one used. Because, due to an enthusiastic use of a specific magic effect, they had six basements and a crawl space that no one used. The one that was between the doors to the two upstairs bathrooms, that should have just led to the dividing wall between the two bathrooms, was the one that James took now. It went down to basement four; not that anyone was good at keeping track. Basement four had been one of the more open basements they¡¯d gotten. Like the basement of an industrial plant, rather than the basement of a particularly cluttered middle school, or the basement of a sprawling mansion estate. It had a couple large rooms, all hard concrete and too-bright lights. Ceilings of exposed ventilation and wiring, held up with thick concrete pillars that were sturdy enough that no one worried about the few long thin cracks in them. They¡¯d used this floor alternately as a shooting range, random magical artifact storage and testing, and then as an engineering floor for building and storing a mech made out of asphalt and creative uses of a lot of those earlier magical artifacts. Technically, they still used one half for that. But the other side was getting a renovation. The Order of Endless Rooms had a problem. They¡¯d grown, over their time here, to a roster of over a couple hundred people. And a lot of those people lived in this building; some because they liked it here, some because it was hard to get an apartment without citizenship documents or a human form. But for whatever reason, the Order was interested in accommodating everyone they could. So they were building apartments. Or, more accurately, the work team that was down here day and night for the last week was building one apartment. To the highest degree of quality they could manage, and then a little better. And then they were going to activate a totem built around an orange orb pulled from Officium Mundi, and copy that apartment a couple hundred times, layering the combined total space into this single room. The basement smelled like sawdust and plastic and a dozen other small flavors that came from construction sites. Loud music from a speaker set up behind the skeleton of the unit they planned to copy thumped through the air. And in the middle of the floor, a small suite of rooms was slowly coming together, a construction that took into account the different style of needs in terms of insulation and wiring and plumbing, designed not just to be uniform, but to be copied. It was, all things considered, pretty cool. ¡°So, the last time I trusted you with something like this, in this room, you blew up my car.¡± James called to Reed as he got out of the stairs and skirted around the outside of the organized pile of materials laid out on blue construction tarps. Reed ignored him. Partly because he was busy, but also because James had made that comment before, and his friend and possibly boss had taught him that repetitive comedy shouldn¡¯t be rewarded. Instead, the curly haired young man brushed some invisible sawdust off his shirt, winced as he put too much pressure on the scar that marked a missing internal organ, and pretended he was just really focused on getting the measurements right. To be fair, he was. The last time they¡¯d messed up some measurements, he¡¯d blown up James¡¯ car. And his own kidney, among other things. The orange totems required exacting measurements. But once you had them, they were almost concerningly stable. And the blueprints that Bill and Mark had submitted for this project had been checked and rechecked, but he was still down here doing it again, while he watched one of the older men try desperately to teach a kid barely younger than he was how to use a belt sander. ¡°Yo.¡± James said softer, stepping up to Reed¡¯s card table workstation. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± ¡°Not bad. Not bad.¡± Reed nodded, choosing to begin acknowledging James now that the joking was done. ¡°Still wishing the unfolding totems could copy magical stuff. Oh, we finished the furniture test; it doesn¡¯t work. Doesn¡¯t care if it¡¯s a chair or a wall or whatever. The oranges won¡¯t copy magic.¡± ¡°Disappointing!¡± James tsked. ¡°But hey, this is still pretty powerful on its own. We¡¯ll just have to find other ways to really do arcane quality of life improvements.¡± ¡°Centralization, I guess.¡± Reed shrugged. ¡°Like how we stuck that microwave that adds nutritional content to things in the Response break room. Oh! Mark wants you and Arrush to be available for when we activate the totem, so we can start setting up heat channels or something. I don¡¯t actually get the engineering method behind it? But he¡¯s basically got environmentally friendly air conditioning, if you two can do the thing where you make a ring of heat exchange points. And it does collapse when we take the totem down, I checked. So no concern about¡­ you know¡­ making some kind of wizard minefield in a thousand years.¡± ¡°Goooooood? Good.¡± James nodded. ¡°Yes. Good. Except hang on; we went to great lengths to get Mark a Climb spell slot. He has the thermodynamic tunnel spell! He can do it himself!¡± ¡°He says he¡¯s old.¡± Reed countered. ¡°He¡¯s forty five, tops!¡± ¡°Mark is, like, almost fifty?¡± James blinked. ¡°Seriously? Shit, I did not realize that. Okay, well, that doesn¡¯t¡­ really stop him from doing the thing. But I can help out with it anyway.¡± James gave an amused huff, breath coming out in a powerful burst even when he didn¡¯t mean for it to. ¡°Alright. Well, I¡¯m just here to help with some random stuff today, so I can gripe about having literal magic later.¡± ¡°Random stuff?¡± Reed questioned. James shrugged, casually looking over his shoulder and down the hall toward the elevator at the sounds of a group of camracondas moving past. ¡°Bill said something about getting someone to hold heavy things. I can hold heavy things! I am very powerful.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true, he is!¡± A woman¡¯s voice cut into the conversation, scratchy from use and a little tired, but still enthusiastic. James turned with a grin of his own to see Alanna coming toward them from out of the single half-built apartment unit in the middle of the basement¡¯s floor space. ¡°Very powerful, and other things!¡± Alanna circled the table and draped herself over James¡¯ shoulders, getting a grunt of exertion as he pushed back against the sudden weight. Alanna was a half foot taller than James, black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail that was nowhere near the match to his own, but gave her a certain sharp look anyway. She was wearing a plain tee shirt and shorts that showed off the tanned and heavy packed muscles she was proud of working for, and was sweaty enough that she was incredibly uncomfortable to be fallen on by. James put up only a token resistance as his partner crushed his shoulders, though. ¡°Oh hey!¡± He gasped out, shifting his stance to keep her from literally flooring him. ¡°I guess Anesh left that note then.¡± ¡°What? Oh! No, that was me. I just finished what I was doing early, and Bill roped me into lifting stuff into place for Myri to freeze.¡± Alanna jutted a thumb to where a black and orange camraconda slithered out of the construction site, and James stifled a chuckle as the snake moved over to a line of large bowls full of water, dunking her head into one without reservation. ¡°God, I keep forgetting they¡¯re waterproof.¡± Alanna muttered. James knew the feeling. It was hard enough to keep track of what he could do, and he¡¯d been this species his whole life. He tilted his head back as far as he could, wiggling in Alanna¡¯s embrace, to try to plant a kiss on her neck. Or escape. Either one. ¡°So, wait, you stole my job?¡± He asked as she repositioned above him, staying just out of reach of his antics. ¡°I was supposed to help today!¡± ¡°You were on vacation! It¡¯s been two days!¡± Alanna glared down at him. ¡°Also yes, I was here and it seemed helpful. Also El says hi.¡± ¡°No she doesn¡¯t.¡± James gave a disappointed smirk ¡°No, she doesn¡¯t.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°She said a lot of things, some of which were nice though. So take the greeting and like it. Anyway. Wanna grab dinner?¡± ¡°I just got here! I didn¡¯t even get a chance to do anything!¡± Alanna snorted. ¡°We¡¯re done for the day, and I know you need to eat something with vegetables in it before we go into the Office tonight.¡± ¡°Oh, is it Tuesday already?¡± James innocently asked, like he didn¡¯t already know, then yelped as his partner started gnawing on his ear in retaliation. ¡°Alright, fine! But you have to tell me what we¡¯re postponing until tonight! I completely forgot!¡± Alanna laughed. ¡°Oh! Nothing! I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be back today, so I left a note for any time in the future when you were feeling overwhelmed!¡± James whirled away out of her grip, and turned to place his hands on his partner¡¯s shoulders. ¡°That was very nice of you.¡± He said solemnly. ¡°I love you very much. Please stop ¡®helping¡¯.¡± ¡°I¡¯m helping!¡± Alanna exclaimed, throwing herself into James for another sweaty hug, persisting with a laugh even as her boyfriend dodged her first attempt and led her on a chase back toward the stairs. Stopping at the card table Reed was using, Bill cracked open a can of soda with a snap and hiss. ¡°Was that James?¡± He asked the younger man who was doing yet another check and not looking up from his laptop. ¡°Yup.¡± With another hiss, Bill popped open a second can, grabbing a metal straw from the glass jar full of them on the side of Reed¡¯s table, popping it in, and lowering it to the ground so the camraconda that had followed him could have a drink. ¡°Did he just walk off with my heavy?¡± He asked. ¡°Ayup.¡± Reed nodded. Bill stared at the door, the man rolling the aluminum can in his thick hand, letting the cold metal soothe his fingers. After a few seconds, he titled his head back and drained half the drink in one go. ¡°God dammit, I¡¯m gonna have to get an actual pulley system setup for the last support beam.¡± He grumbled. ¡°Unless¡­ someone¡­ anyone¡­ made a totem that didn¡¯t need vertical support for its own interior weight?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Reed shook his head. ¡°Well fuck.¡± Bill grumbled, chugging the last of the soda and flinging it into one of the open heavy plastic trash bins around the site. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna go get a pulley system set up. Is there any magic rope down here?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± Reed actually looked up, thinking about the question. ¡°Surprisingly no? I could make you something, if you give me an hour.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll figure it out.¡± Bill grunted and rolled an arm. ¡°Alright, back to work.¡± ¡°I am a magic rope, in some contexts!¡± The camraconda, Myri, said from under the table where she¡¯d just finished her soda. ¡°Also I am still on break. Be patient!¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Reed nodded, remembering what James and Alanna had just been talking about. ¡°Speaking of breaks, Officium Mundi opens tonight. If you¡¯re doing that, maybe take a rest.¡± Bill waved him off. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m going to my kid¡¯s soccer game in an hour. I leave the whole ¡®risking your life¡¯ thing to you kids.¡± ¡°Oh, I leave that to James.¡± Reed said, turning back to his laptop. ¡°He¡¯s the professional here.¡± Upstairs, the professional dungeon delver, charged with reflex enhancing magical coffee, caught a grape in his mouth as one of his partners kept throwing fruit at him when she thought he was distracted. At the tables around them, people of a dozen different backgrounds and roles ate, talked, and laughed when James failed to predict the arc of a slice of orange properly and was sent tumbling to the floor. They found strange places and explored them, they strove to understand and apply the magics they collected, they protected everyone they could, they worked to make the world a little safer. They built cool things and fought monsters and argued about systems of government. They tried to be good people. Piece by piece, they made their own culture, and their own place in the world. James was still grinning wildly as Arrush helped him up, the towering ratroach bracing James with two of his arms while another hand hauled him to his feet. He gave a reassuring thumbs up to Alanna, showing that he was actually fine as he dragged his chair back up as well. People kept trying to encourage everyone to take time off, to take a break, a vacation, even just a weekend. But really, how could he ever feel like he was relaxing away from here? This place had become his home. It wasn¡¯t pointless toil to work to make his home better. It wasn¡¯t burnout to spend time around the community he¡¯d build, and that he loved. James explained this to Alanna, and then admitted that also yes he had cut his vacation short to go on the dungeon delve tonight, getting a laughing ¡°I knew it!¡± out of his partner. But that didn¡¯t make the other stuff untrue either. It was, every time he came through the door, good to be back. Chapter 197 ¡°Hobbits were the peak of civilization in the Tolkien-verse. Jobs were gardening, stall at the farmer¡¯s market, or mailman. Shoes off, capris on, six meals a day, high and fat as all shit. Names like Daddy Twofoot. Why the fuck were we ever horny for elves?¡± -Cryptid Coalition, via Tumblr- _____ ¡°Okay!¡± James clapped his hands together. ¡°We own this room for about two hours, and we¡¯ve got a lot of dumb ideas to work through!¡± He leaned forward on the wide wooden table that occupied the middle of the basement room, piled with what probably looked like a garage sale to anyone who wasn¡¯t aware of what was going on. A garage sale, and also several bowls full of blue orbs. The room was one of many spare rooms in their basements. The Order had a lot of basements; it kept coming up, and they kept using them for things. But the Order also had a couple hundred people that lived and worked in this building now, and so for the large group all purpose rooms that they had set up in this basement, away from anything critical, people had to schedule time. Even if it was time for James to induct a group of students into the art of making magic items. Five people had joined him today, spaced out a little bit around the table that he was leaning on. One of them was relatively new to the Order, one of them was someone who worked in Research but James hadn¡¯t really met that often, one of them was a camraconda, one of them was an intern, and one of them was a body snatching potion wearing the shell of a human form. ¡°So, here¡¯s the deal.¡± He told the five people who had joined him for today¡¯s lesson. ¡°For the purposes of experimentation, I am going to share very few details with you before we get started. But I will explain my logic!¡± Everyone nodded, except the new guy, who looked very out of his depth and kept staring at the camraconda. ¡°Sorry, I thought this was a job interview?¡± He asked. ¡°You¡¯ve already been vetted by our intelligence branch, and two people have vouched for you. You¡¯re hired.¡± James told him. ¡°Now, the reason that-¡° The new guy, a mid twenties guy with a blonde mop of hair out of a 90¡¯s high school sitcom, complete with denim jacket to bring the look together, held up his hands frantically. ¡°Time out! You can¡¯t just¡­ intelligence branch? What if I don¡¯t want the job!¡± James stared at him, taking one long blink¡¯s worth of time, before he asked, ¡°Do you not want the job?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even know what the job is!¡± The new guy protested. The high school senior in the room, a bulky kid named Brian, raised his hand. ¡°How come he gets a job and I get an internship?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re seventeen.¡± James answered. ¡°Putting aside that you basically already get treated like a member here, you literally get ¡®a job¡¯ when you¡¯re past the age of consent. Can we focus, please?¡± ¡°May I take a job?¡± The camraconda, Watcher-Of-Birds, asked. She did not raise a hand, she wasn¡¯t wearing arms at the moment. James curled a hand through his hair as he rapidly lost control of the class. ¡°Watcher, you have a job.¡± ¡°Never had an interview.¡± ¡°Well, then you collect the standard Order stipend, and you work to uphold our principles and accomplish our objectives, as well as having a vote in the nature of our operations. Which is not a ¡®job¡¯ exactly, but it¡¯s what you already do.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± The camraconda bobbed her head. ¡°Good. I will be hired.¡± ¡°Yes thank you.¡± James sighed. Then, before he started talking again, he turned to the last two people in the room. ¡°Farzad, Bea, either of you have a job related problem we should talk about?¡± The researcher raised his eyebrows, sitting up from where he¡¯d been tilting his chair back and flicking his eyes around the room. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ I work here already, I¡¯m good. But I also never had an interview, I just didn¡¯t leave after the dungeon thing.¡± ¡°Which one?¡± Brian and Watcher-Of-Birds asked in unison, and were roundly ignored. The potion person made a shrugging motion, the twitch of her shoulders inhuman and artificial, but also strangely more real than when she borrowed the personality of the person she¡¯d eaten. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Well, tough, you get the membership perks anyway.¡± James told her. ¡°Now! Anyway! Recently, Research has been trying to expand our range of options by creating more magic items, which I do not think I can keep legally calling dungeontech if they were made here on Earth. The problem that we keep running into is that we¡¯re all very bad at this!¡± James swept his arms over the table, punctuating his words. ¡°And I don¡¯t mean we can¡¯t make this work. We can. I¡¯ve even done it myself, a few times. The problem is, the things I can make work reliably are¡­ well, small. I can make a pen that changes font, I can¡¯t make a pen that turns bark chips into potato chips.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds perked up instantly. ¡°I enjoy potato chips!¡± She exclaimed, before Farzed patted her gently on the head and hushed her. ¡°So,¡± James continued with a compassionate smile at the interruption, ¡°the problem we run into here is this. If I teach you what I know about making magic items, you¡¯re gonna learn all the bad habits I probably have. Because we have no way of knowing if we¡¯re doing this the right way or not.¡± He rapped his knuckles on the wood of the table. ¡°So what I¡¯m gonna tell you is the bare minimum that you need to know to get started, give you the supplies, and then, we¡¯re gonna try to make some magic. And if something works, we¡¯ll build on that. Because we don¡¯t need a solution to everything right now. What we need is long term knowledge of how to teach everyone in the next class.¡± ¡°But we do get to make xenotech?¡± Farzed asked hopefully. ¡°Absolutely.¡± James nodded. ¡°So. Here¡¯s what you need to know. In order to make a magic item with Officium Mundi materials, you need three things. A blue orb, which is the core of it, at least one yellow orb, which we think powers the whole thing, and may in fact not be needed at all, and then one discrete ¡®object¡¯. I¡¯m not gonna define what an object is, because you probably have a kind of internalized understanding of how a chair is different from the floor, and the orbs probably share that.¡± He thought for a second, and then added, ¡°Also, once an item is enchanted like this, if it breaks, it crumbles to dust that seems to be removed from reality. So.¡± ¡°Could we just use that to make magical toxic waste, and then break it, to get rid of toxic waste?¡± The new guy asked tentatively. ¡°Assuming this is real.¡± ¡°Magic is real, don¡¯t be dumb.¡± The intern said. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t be mean.¡± James scolded the kid lightly. ¡°He¡¯s new here.¡± ¡°Oh, right. Uh¡­ sorry. Magic is real though.¡± James sighed again. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about actual apologies later. Anyway, good idea with the toxic waste. I¡¯ll let you tell me after this if it¡¯d work or not. Here¡¯s your table, everyone should have a bunch of orbs, the bigger ones are more powerful. Have fun!¡± He stepped back, finally settling himself into the one chair on his side of the large piece of wooden furniture. Most of the other people in the room shared glances with each other, like they were waiting for something more. Except for Bea, who made rapid mechanical motions to pick up a yellow and blue orb, and a classic number two pencil from the table. She didn¡¯t make any human expressions like narrowing her eyes or furrowing her brow, but there was a sense of deep concentration as she stared at the items she was holding together. Then the orbs were gone, and she was left holding a pencil, a newly forged magic item. ¡°Interesting.¡± James said. ¡°And really fast. What did you make?¡± To demonstrate, the potion person held up the pencil in both hands, and snapped it in half with a sharp crack of wood, and then set the whole pencil back on the table. ¡°Uh¡­¡± The Researcher next to her looked at the intact object with a concerned expression. ¡°That¡­ um¡­¡± He scooted his chair away slightly. ¡°Cool. Cool cool cool.¡± James nodded, appearing unfazed by the way the world had seemed to warp around the break point. ¡°Okay. There¡¯s some notebooks on the table too, everyone keep track of as many specifics as you can, okay? Good job. I¡¯ll be here observing, don¡¯t mind me.¡± For the next hour or so, James watched and took notes as the five of them tried a dozen different ideas. He hadn¡¯t told them they couldn¡¯t talk to each other, so they shared their thoughts and attempts, and slowly started to develop a method of getting the blue orbs to do what they were trying to get them to. Sort of. They spent the last half hour of their time talking about what they were trying, and why they thought it did or didn¡¯t work. A lot of it was hypothetical, but guesses that they could turn into results were what most of Research was founded on. Bea, the living potion, seemed to be able to get results rapidly and consistently. But only in a very narrow band of ideas; she had trouble conceptualizing stranger or more esoteric uses for the random stuff James had presented for them to experiment with. None of them had any luck with the objects that weren¡¯t typical ¡°office supplies¡±, and a few of them even talked about feeling a resistance to trying to make the blue orbs shift into them. James took everything they¡¯d learned, and sent it off to the growing archive of things that Research knew about magic item creation. There were a lot of people who were better at this than this group in the Order, but today had still helped refine what worked, and what didn¡¯t. Next time, he¡¯d give them all the notes they had, and see what they could do with it. Assuming they could get enough extra blues out of the Office; now that they were actually using them and not just storing the ones they more or less unintentionally found, the Order¡¯s stockpiles were starting to dip. Just one more line of logistics they needed to manage. And Watcher-Of-Birds didn¡¯t end up getting anything that could convert matter to potato chips, which was the real tragedy. _____ ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the Sewer be closed or something?¡± Alanna asked as James spun the wheel of his car and pulled them into the mostly empty back lot of a local high school. ¡°You know, because this place is empty and also closed?¡± ¡°They still do sports and stuff in the summer.¡± James reminded her. ¡°And, wait, hang on, didn¡¯t you have to do a summer school thing once? You know they keep using the building, even if it¡¯s August!¡± ¡°You can¡¯t prove that. It was a false memory or something.¡± Alanna folded her arms and twisted in the passenger seat of the thirty year old VW bug that James was driving. He¡¯d gotten it for cheap, because in addition to having all the downsides of being an antique with none of the perks, it had also been in a head on collision at enough speed to wreck the car. And then he¡¯d filled the gas tank out of their supply of gas from Route Horizon that was best described as ¡®health potion for cars¡¯, left the engine running for a day, and gotten a car that was in better condition than some show models. ¡°Also! It wasn¡¯t my fault! I only failed that class because the teacher was a creep!¡± ¡°Oh riiiight!¡± James smiled and nodded as he killed the engine, remembering their shared childhood. ¡°That was Mr. Mart, right? Yeah, you failed that class because you broke his nose! God, I¡¯d forgotten about that.¡± He paused as Alanna gave him a mock scowl, and then took the joking tone out of his voice. ¡°I feel like I was probably a flippant dick to you about it at the time.¡± James said quietly, staring through the windshield at the back entrance to the high school. Not the one they¡¯d gone to, but still, a familiar vibe of a building. ¡°And I never really apologized.¡± ¡°Eh, fuck it.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re only a flippant dick now when it¡¯s funny, so that kinda makes up for it. And I don¡¯t have to do summer school ever again!¡± ¡°You were, on the way here, literally just talking about learning how to kayak next week.¡± James broke out of his mild emotional downturn and laughed. ¡°See? Funny!¡± Alanna told him, leaning over to shoot a tickling kiss at his neck as she popped her door open and wedged her tall frame out of the car and onto the asphalt of the parking lot that was shimmering with heat mirages as it baked under the summer sun. James snorted, and followed, bending his arm at an odd angle to reach between the tight gap into the back of the car, and pull a duffel bag after himself. As he did so, another car with more leg room pulled up next to them, and a couple more people hopped or slithered out. Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight had gone through a lot together. They¡¯d nearly died at least twice, they¡¯d saved each other¡¯s lives an equal or greater number of times, and they were also dating, which raised a lot of eyebrows from people for a variety of reasons. For a while, they¡¯d been in a protracted personal argument about whether or not Frequency-Of-Sunlight should be risking her life at all, after everything that had happened. Deb had gotten pretty mad at James during that time, for the expected reasons. They¡¯d worked it out though, and the compromise appeared to be that Deb was just gonna risk her life alongside her serpentine girlfriend. ¡°Yo! Where¡¯s Alex?¡± Alanna called to them as she leaned against the solid metal railing that split the concrete steps leading up to the back door of the building. ¡°She said to tell you she was dead, and could not be here.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight answered matter of factly in her digital voice. ¡°She had an allergic reaction to a guava and is resting.¡± Deb answered more realistically. ¡°She is very ashamed, and it would be nice if you didn¡¯t make her feel bad about this.¡± ¡°Why would I do that? Fuck guava.¡± James said, instantly deciding to back his fellow knight over any random fruit. While Alanna choked out a laugh, Deb rolled her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go that far. Are we ready to go? We¡¯re not on a schedule, but I do have some stuff I want to get back to.¡± This was probably just flatly true; James had a feeling that Deb was a workaholic, and that feeling was backed up by all observable evidence. She was around in the Order¡¯s medical ward basically every time he was there, she was active in trying to generate shareable skill files through the skulljacks for a number of subjects, she was constantly around doing random extra tasks, and she seemed like she ended up on more delves than James did. ¡°I also have things!¡± Sunny said. That was probably only a little true. The excitable camraconda girl had been spending the last week in an air conditioned room eating peanut butter crackers and watching Youtube videos about historical events, finally having the downtime needed to push through levels of her Lesson. Her Lesson, the magical touch of power that came from the dungeon somewhere below the building they were about to break into, required her to learn about history. Any history would do. Once she did enough, she¡¯d get an option of one of three upgrades. And then she¡¯d need to learn more history. James had two lessons, one for basketball which he¡¯d stalled out on but which made him a worryingly effective sharpshooter, and one for biology, which currently made him a lot harder to actually kill. Alanna¡¯s Lesson let her read minds, kind of, which was why she was along today. ¡°Yeah!¡± James said, adding a cheerful. ¡°Let¡¯s rock.¡± as he brushed past Alanna and yanked open the heavy metal door of the school¡¯s back entrance. It wasn¡¯t locked, because at this point, the Order had four people working here to make sure the dungeon didn¡¯t get up to anything shitty, and they had ways to make sure they could get in. In a way, high schools were like dungeons. In that they were horrible, and no one really liked being there, and if you survived them you got the reward of an arbitrary accreditation. That last one might have been unique to the first dungeon James had found, really. But disliking the short labyrinth of scuffed tile floors and the unique smell of the school band practice room wasn¡¯t unique to just high schoolers. ¡°This place is bad¡­¡± A small voice fluttered in his ear. Well, not in his ear, exactly. The still unnamed navigator that lived in his head was only a small bit physical, and most of what he said was actually sounding in James¡¯ mind. ¡°There¡¯s no¡­ no¡­¡± The infomorph struggled, looking for the word. James provided it, pushing a thought forward. There was no wonder here. Just the repetition of classes and student migration patterns. Every inch mapped and uninteresting. Until they made it around the corner to the basement of the school that didn¡¯t exist, and found a rusted security door, blue paint flaking off, one edge dented in. If you looked at the building¡¯s blueprints, this would lead nowhere. If you looked closer, you¡¯d realize this door didn¡¯t exist. This was the entry point to the Akashic Sewer. The most hateful, arguably most dangerous dungeon, that the Order knew of. This wasn¡¯t the casual apathetic danger of Officium Mundi, or the environmental trap of Winter¡¯s Climb. This was a place that seemed to delight in inflicting pain, and if left unattended, would rapidly get bored and start sending its creations out to kidnap students to murder. They were here on what James thought of as a rescue mission. The group pushed through the door, found themselves in an almost totally dark room with a broken concrete floor and the steady drip of putrid water from a series of broken copper pipes on the walls. The smell assaulted them instantly, a mix of rot and vomit and spice that invaded the nose and tried its best to trigger the gag reflex. That¡¯s why they¡¯d put on the filter masks before coming in. The Order learned fast when it came to stuff like this. It took a few minutes to distribute their gear and get ready. Their standard body armor worked, but the dungeon ¡®confiscated¡¯ a lot of stuff that would otherwise be standard for them. So they worked around it; no guns, but they could bring in ¡®brooms¡¯ that were actually just weighted staves, or a set of tiny paper airplanes folded from paper they¡¯d made special with a blue orb that would always hit what they were thrown at and were far sharper than they should be. And then they were ready, and moving. Flashlights casting beams that didn¡¯t go as far as they should, armor not feeling like quite enough to keep the moist environment out. But moving all the same. ¡°This place is bad, and I do not like it!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight offered as the human members of the group had to duck to avoid a part of the pitch black tunnel where the overhead pipes dipped down to head level, and had a serrated break in them like they were designed to take an eye out. Which they probably were. James gave an unseen nod, using the end of his staff to spear a fist sized mutated cockroach that was advancing on his feet in a manner he did not appreciate. ¡°Sunny has hot takes.¡± He told Alanna. ¡°She¡¯s right though.¡± Alanna reminded him as they skirted around one of the few light sources the place had. They avoided it because it was a thin dripping trickle of bright blue glowing corrosive fluid. ¡°Hey, so, this stuff, right here.¡± She pointed at it, her heavy gloved finger casting a sharp shadow in the illumination. ¡°Does anyone else see this and think it looks the same as ratroach drool?¡± ¡°Gross.¡± James said reflexively. Deb took a more clinical approach. ¡°It does, yes. Arrush and Keeka both produce saliva of roughly this consistency.¡± She made a considered noise. ¡°What do you think it means?¡± The nurse asked, looking over toward James. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t ask me. I¡¯m not really an expert. But if I have to guess, I¡¯m just gonna say the dungeon is reusing ideas because it¡¯s kind of uncreative.¡± James glanced back at it. ¡°We didn¡¯t bring stuff to take safe samples today, so we might have to come back next time if we wanna check. It¡¯s probably not important, but knowing anything is better than knowing nooaaaawk!¡± His words trailed off as something jumped at him from a gap in the pipes, his inattention making him the perfect target for the ambush. Rough scratching filled the tunnel of pipes alongside James¡¯ yell, that was quickly picked up by the others, as the thing that had fallen on him tried to rip apart his chest. But his chest was well armored, and it changed tactics quickly, trying to scramble up to his shoulder and go for his throat, before being blocked by James grabbing at it. It was easy to see, sort of. While most of it was shadowed in the dark, its small form only briefly lit up by the flashlights they had attached to their armor, the thing had a bright glowing orange point of light inside its chest that was simple to track. Alanna tracked it best, keeping a cool head, stepping behind James, and reaching around him to grab the creature¡¯s head, before slamming it into the wall of pipes; bone and muscle pulping against the metal pipe she¡¯d hit it into. A small burst of red sparks came out of the corpse, flowing into her hand. A reward for the kill. ¡°This is new.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said, leaning forward to look at the body. It was a strange little quadruped; like someone had taken a rat, enlarged it, and stripped away anything that wasn¡¯t bone and muscle, and a few tendons. A strange, wet, red and white beast that had thrown itself at James without hesitation. ¡°It smells like gun fire.¡± The camraconda added, tentatively sniffing at it. ¡°Please don¡¯t smell things here.¡± James said, wiping off the front of his armor reflexively. Then he looked at the corpse, and saw the orange light in it getting brighter. ¡°Sunny, move!¡± He reached out and grabbed the camraconda around her neck, pulling her back and flinging her down the tunnel as much as anyone could easily move a two hundred pound snake. Alanna and Deb also backed up as he called, echoing his worry. Then the rat exploded. Not in a deadly ball of fire, but still spraying molten blood and scraps of bone around the immediate area. ¡°Wow, this place is getting worse!¡± Alanna needlessly exclaimed. No one disagreed. They made sure they were doing alright, and got moving again. They had some ground to cover. They pushed on through the dark as quickly as they could while being safe about it. Their actual target, both of them really, were deeper in than just the initial tunnels of pipes and concrete and mild exploding rats. Regularly, one of them would smash an oversized beetle, generating a single red spark. Sometimes, they would find a door that would take those sparks to unlock, though they held off on actually doing that. Once, when their tunnel opened up to a flat packed dirt floor, there was a strange disc with a handprint in it hanging from the wall near the ceiling. It was easy enough to get Alanna to lift Deb up to it, without spraying too much dirt in anyone¡¯s face, and when she placed her hand on it a small burst of a dozen or so purple sparks burrowed into her hand with a small sting. They still didn¡¯t know what those were for yet, but there was no sense leaving it untouched. They pressed on. Crossing a small river of something that reflected a harsh and deep red in the beams of their flashlights, and smelled like liquified fish. Dealing with a few more exploding rat ambushes, and one time when a grey arm the length of a school bus tried to drag James into a hole in the ground. Passing around a stone altar shaped like a rectangular desk, on which something vaguely humanoid had been carved into pieces and left dead. The smell got worse. Their small conversations died down as they started facing more resistance. Alanna and Deb dropped the talk they were having about a netflix series they were both watching. Frequency-Of-Sunlight stopped asking James questions about the Civil War. They all took a break for water, which was always uncomfortable here where it felt like imbibing anything was an invitation for some kind of rare fungus to take up residence in your mouth. And then, at the lead of their party, James heard a whisper in his ear. ¡°Close now.¡± The navigator told him. ¡°Get ready.¡± He held up a hand, signaling the others, and they started moving slower, trying to soften their steps on the pipes and patches of concrete. Or, in Sunny¡¯s case, trying to slither quieter. She wasn¡¯t great at it, the sealed camraconda armor she was wearing making a lot more noise than her pseudo-organic cable body. But there was no way anyone was coming in here and running their whole stomach across the ground unprotected. The next time the tunnel split, they took the small branch that smelled like wet dirt and unclean fur. And when they saw the mouth of it open up to another flat and circular room, they paused one more time. ¡°Coffee.¡± James held a thermos out to Deb. ¡°You ready?¡± He asked her as she pried her fingers off her staff to take the magical drink from him. ¡°No.¡± She answered in a voice that cracked despite her attempt to stay calm. ¡°I hate this part.¡± ¡°Hey, don¡¯t sweat it.¡± Alanna said. ¡°You hang back, your job is just to leave. Let us handle the this part part of this.¡± James stared at his partner, mouth hanging open behind the mask that was the only barrier between his lungs and the fetid air of this dark place. ¡°¡­What the fuck did you just say?¡± ¡°I dunno!¡± Alanna admitted cheerfully. ¡°But the point is, stay behind us.¡± Deb nodded, the humor washing past her. ¡°Why¡­ Christ, why does it feel so different than the rest of it?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s different.¡± James told her, taking the thermos back and popping his mask off his face just long enough to chug what was left, already feeling his reaction time start to sharpen, and not from the caffeine. ¡°Because they might be people, and they¡¯re absolutely more dangerous.¡± He clapped a hand on her shoulder. ¡°But Alanna¡¯s right. Stay behind us, keep Sunny safe, and bail the instant it looks like anything goes wrong.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Deb nodded. ¡°Right! Okay. I¡¯m ready.¡± ¡°I, too, am ready!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight added. ¡°I will keep you safe, do not worry.¡± She butted her helmeted head against Deb¡¯s hip, the artificial arms she was wearing whirring as she moved them aside to make the gesture. ¡°I am very powerful.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true. Okay. Alanna?¡± ¡°¡®M good.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go then.¡± James said, and walked into the flickering pale light of the cleared space, some kind of glowing moth creature pretending to be lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. They were mostly harmless, unless they thought you hadn¡¯t noticed them. James pointed right at them, just so they¡¯d know the score, and they fluttered slightly but didn¡¯t descend. The room was much like the last couple they¡¯d passed through. Hard dirt packed down to a surface that would have made for a decent hiking trail, if patches of the ground weren¡¯t torn up where holes had been dug down. The walls were broken tile, and against the back wall from where they¡¯d entered, a risen dirt basin of something thick and luminescent sat, with a pair of brown lumps slumped over it that it took the mind a minute to realize were bodies, though not human ones. The room was also occupied. The small burrows were filled with shapes that reacted to the presence of the delvers. Some slow, some worryingly quick, the ratroaches that dwelled here unfolded their many limbs, grabbed for whatever salvaged and makeshift weapons they had, and moved in response to the invasion of their home. ¡°Hello.¡± James said in a voice that was both compassionate and firm, the word carrying over the sounds of scratching and hissing. ¡°We¡¯re here to try to help.¡± A ratroach, a roughly human shaped creature made of slapped together parts from rats and bugs, this one with a third arm growing at an odd angle out of its left thigh, a face that has a zig-zag pattern of chitin cutting through the furred muzzle, and angry red infected lines on its flesh where the skin and chitin met, exploded forward as soon as James stopped speaking. It had a knife made of a spike of metal wrapped in rotting leather, and it tried to drive it into his eye, stumbling as its own speed got beyond what it could make the body it was wearing do. Alanna caught its arm, and looked at it. Like James, Alanna also had a Lesson from this place, but her lesson gave her the reward of empathy. And three steps up that path of growth, she could read the feelings coming off of almost anything, human or not. But when she looked at the ratroach she was holding, who was still trying to land punches on her armored torso while she disarmed it, she got a sinking pit of a sensation in her stomach. ¡°Empty.¡± She said to James. ¡°It¡¯s not even angry. It¡¯s just¡­ empty. Nothing.¡± Pulling the ratroach close, Alanna took a grip on the creature¡¯s poorly made form, and did her best to snap its neck as quickly as she could. The thing about Alanna¡¯s power that was sometimes inconvenient was that she couldn¡¯t really turn it off. And so, when James¡¯ lit up with enough anger to melt through steel, before he shoved it down and blocked the next incoming attack from another cobbled together monster, Alanna got some of that too. She just wasn¡¯t as good at putting it aside as he was. Three more ratroaches tried to kill them. And one by one, Alanna looked at them with an eye for those ephemeral details of deeper feeling. ¡°Empty.¡± She said sadly. ¡°Empty.¡± She repeated, letting James know he didn¡¯t need to keep holding back on his current opponent. ¡°Em- scared!¡± The word caught her off guard, as did the sensation. ¡°Deb!¡± Alanna grabbed the sharp ceramic spear from the ratroach who was trying to stab her, leaving gashes on its three-fingered hands as she threw the weapon aside and spun the furred thing to the ground in a throw that ended with a puff of dirt from the floor and spores from its fur. ¡°Calm it down!¡± ¡°¡±Right! Right right, that¡¯s so fucking easy.¡± Deb muttered to herself, trying to take deep breaths as she fumbled out the laser pointer that she had in a pouch on her belt. ¡°Calm. I¡¯m calm. I can be calm.¡± The woman repeated to herself, trying to steady her emotions. Then she leveled the laser pointer at the ratroach, and pushed the button with the softest of clicks. A long time ago, someone had found a laser pointer in Officium Mundi that did something weird. That wasn¡¯t really a surprise, they found weird things all the time. But this one was weird, and useful, and small enough they could make a lot of copies of it. And so, the laser pointer that shared your emotions with whoever you hit, became a part of a lot of their toolkits. Deb wasn¡¯t really calm. She was still nervous, and scared. But she also had a couple other things in there too. She was worried for the ratroach, worried for her friends, and she really wanted to help. And all of that flowed neatly into the creature Alanna was pinning down. Well, at first. Alanna let go rapidly, and moved to block another knife that had just been thrown at her head, as soon as Deb took away the overwhelming fear and replaced it with a calmer, more managed version of the feeling. The fight didn¡¯t last much longer. James and Alanna, with Frequency helping out by occasionally freezing a ratroach in place, took down and dispatched all the enemies that were just empty puppets for the dungeon. Alanna didn¡¯t even get hurt, though James had been kicked in the knee by a ratroach that had an overdeveloped leg, and was rubbing at the aching joint. There were still ratroaches left, but none of them had charged the group. Two of them, both with scraggly brown fur that blended into the dirt they were huddled in, had held back in their small holes in the middle of the room. One of them were staring at James and Alanna with a set of three mismatched unblinking eyes, while the other had just turned away, misshapen paws held over its triangular head, slowly rocking back and forth. James steadied his breathing. Let his heart stop hammering from the adrenaline rush of dealing with something that legitimately wanted to kill you. And then, he took a step forward, and handed off his staff to Alanna, holding his arms out. ¡°Hey.¡± He said quietly, a wet waver in his voice. ¡°We¡¯re here to try to help.¡± He moved forward a little more, and the ratroach that was watching him, eyes locked on like lasers, flinched back. James stopped moving, and dropped to a crouch, bringing himself down to the ratroach¡¯s level. ¡°You do not look like you are having a good day.¡± He said in that same quiet tone, like he was talking to a scared dog. ¡°Would you like to leave here? I know it¡¯s scary, and I know we just killed a lot of your people, but we aren¡¯t going to hurt you.¡± The ratroach he was looking at slowly, ever so slowly, tilted its head to over where Deb was now calming down in earnest, and the member of its species that had attacked the delvers, sitting upright and cautiously accepting a granola bar from Frequency-Of-Sunlight. Then it looked back at James, curiously tilting its head, a line of blue liquid splashing from its broken muzzle to carve a sizzling line in its fur alongside several matching dark marks. ¡°Yeah, all of you.¡± James said. ¡°You feel, you think.¡± He glanced at the one that had attacked them. ¡°You might even care about each other. I don¡¯t know why you and not the others, but you¡¯re alive. And no one should have to live here.¡± It took a little more than just a promise in a language the ratroach might not fully understand to coax it out of the hole it had buried itself in. Even longer for the one that refused to look up at James, and who Alanna told him was feeling nothing but resigned terror. While he talked, and sat with them unarmed, trying to make them as comfortable as he could, Alanna took the jugs they¡¯d brought along and filled them with a fresh supply of the bizarre liquid that pooled here in the back of the room. The Order called it Shaper Substance, and it offered unparalleled, intensely painful, control over one¡¯s own body. They had a lot of possible uses for it, and a lot more tests before they could do those things safely. While two of the ratroaches seemed to both understand, and be willing to leave, the third one didn¡¯t look up from where it cowered in its hole. Which was a problem, when a furious shriek echoed from down an upcoming tunnel. This had happened last time a team had come here, too; at a certain point, the dungeon¡¯s version of a boss fight got pissed enough to start hunting them. Which was fair; they were going to cheat anyway. ¡°Deb, can you take these two back? Alanna and I will join you in a minute, if you could get an isolation room ready.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Deb¡¯s voice was professional as she reached out and offered a hand to one of the ratroaches, Sunny taking the other one, and eventually getting the dungeon creations to hold hands in a way that they seemed intensely eager to avoid. ¡°I will see you back at the Lair.¡± She said, pulling a telepad page and vanishing. ¡°So, what now?¡± Alanna asked, gesturing to the ratroach that wouldn¡¯t even look at them. ¡°It¡¯s painfully scared, dude.¡± ¡°I think it was you that reminded me, a while back, that you can¡¯t always ask a victim if they want to stop being abused. Sometimes you just have to solve the problem.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna put a hand on it. Ready?¡± Another shriek sounded, far closer this time. ¡°Ready!¡± Alanna said, flourishing a telepad. ¡°Do we wanna give Deb some time?¡± ¡°Innnvhaders!¡± A raspy buzzing voice screamed at them from down the hallway, something with better night vision than James had having spotted them, heavy slaps of claws on metal sounding as the most dangerous ratroach in this place rushed them. ¡°Nope!¡± James answered Alanna¡¯s question, grabbing her hand and reaching down to gently place a hand on the terrified creation¡¯s shoulder, feeling it tense and flinch under his steady grip. And then, with a pop of displaced air, they were somewhere else. Cleanup would take some time; they all needed to go through decontamination. But that was what the room they aimed their telepads at was for anyway, and even if their new arrival was curling into a ball on the floor, screaming in terror, they¡¯d still accomplished their goals. ¡°I fucking hate that place.¡± Alanna spat out. No one disagreed. _____ Anesh found his partners in the elaborate, somewhat magical bath, deep in one of the Lair¡¯s basements. If you had asked him, even a year ago, if he would be comfortable bathing around other people, he probably would have said no. Even after getting used to it, it was still something different that didn¡¯t quite feel like it fit his life, for a while. But it was a very nice bath, with magically purified water, dividing screens for if you or a small group did want some privacy, and an aesthetic of wood and copper tones that made the whole place feel like it was very cozy, in a magical way. Also there was a mosaic on one wall of Rufus, the living stapler rendered in loving tile detail. In the mosaic, he was covering his eye with one of his pen legs, because that was only polite. It was the kind of touch that happened a lot around here, that just made a person smile when they noticed it. Anesh found James and Alanna easily enough; they had taken one of the sections of the bath near the door, and neither of them really cared about putting up the large privacy screen. It was weird, kind of, Anesh thought, how everyone here had sort of adapted to this style of doing things. But then, really, when you got down to it, they¡¯d had to adapt to things a lot weirder and more dangerous than bathing and mild nudity. So maybe he was the weird one. As he arrived, Alanna was trying to drown James for some reason. ¡°I assume this is deserved?¡± Anesh asked, his soft English accent betraying amusement and a total lack of concern. Alanna sheepishly tucked her hands behind her back as Anesh caught her off guard. ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± She grinned at him as James sputtered to the surface, long hair plastered across his face like a mask of threads. ¡°He started it.¡± She settled on. ¡°Anesh help I¡¯m being bullied!¡± James reached out for his boyfriend. ¡°I barely did anything!¡± ¡°Oh, I think we both know that¡¯s not true.¡± Anesh said, setting himself cross legged on the edge of the large pool. He was happy to hang out, but he wasn¡¯t here to get wet. After all, he hadn¡¯t been the one covered in mud and spores, and he had stuff to do in a bit that would be more comfortable if he was dry. ¡°How did things go?¡± James went quiet, Alanna slipping away to start idly paddling around the pool, sometimes dipping below the surface as she swam. ¡°It¡­¡± James said eventually, ¡°it was okay. We finally found more ratroaches that weren¡¯t just mindless puppets. They¡¯re recovering downstairs now.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great!¡± Anesh said, giving a warm smile that faded quickly. ¡°Isn¡¯t it? That was what you were looking for.¡± ¡°I guess.¡± James said. ¡°But, it took this long. And one of them is not doing okay.¡± He sighed, wiping his hair off his face and trying to get it to stay put, which was a losing endeavor as the water kept letting it drift around. ¡°The shaper substance is good, obviously, but I can¡¯t stop worrying about¡­ I dunno, everything this place does.¡± Anesh hummed, partly to himself. ¡°I understand what you mean. I feel guilty, because it¡¯s almost a relief that it keeps making puppets and not people, in a way.¡± ¡°The puppets are fucking creepy!¡± Alanna called from the other end of the pool before shoving herself off the wall to float back their direction. James snorted, finding a shallow spot to stand on the pool¡¯s tile floor, and leaning over the lip to talk to Anesh. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s bad to want an unambiguous enemy. I think the shitty thing is that the dungeon is obviously still making both puppets and people, but the ones that can feel are¡­ it¡¯s like they¡¯re being purposefully indoctrinated to violence and anger? Like the place is the perfect environment for learning how to hate everything, and so every time it makes a ratroach or something else that can feel, it¡¯s setting them up for failure.¡± ¡°It¡¯s trying to make more like the beautiful one, you think?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Probably.¡± James shrugged, shaking his head as he thought about the modified white furred ratroach that guarded the exit and screamed exaltations to the dungeon she thought of as a god. ¡°We really need to remove her from that place, and get her into therapy.¡± ¡°Therapy can¡¯t solve everything.¡± Alanna said with a grim tone. ¡°If she wants to be religious, there¡¯s only so much you can do.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°I meant violent.¡± ¡°Okay, we¡¯re not gonna dig into that right now.¡± James said as Alanna ducked back under the water and started swimming around his legs. ¡°But we don¡¯t actually have to kill her. We can¡­ we can just remove her from where she can cause harm, and¡­¡± He trailed off, and sighed, looking down at his hands with a distant stare. ¡°I doubt she¡¯ll ever thank us. But she¡¯s still a person, and I¡¯m not fucking kidding when I say I don¡¯t believe in capital punishment.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m with you there. We¡¯ll need an actual way to keep her isolated though. I¡¯m not saying prison, don¡¯t give me that look you wanker. I¡¯m just saying¡­ somewhere separated and where we can be safe about it.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll bring it up at the next meeting so Karen can scowl at the budget.¡± James said. ¡°Oh, hey, not that it¡¯s not great to see you every time you¡¯re around, but what brings you down here anyway? I ask since you¡¯re still unfortunately dressed.¡± Anesh¡¯s bronze skin turned a darkly flushed shade of deep red as he blushed. ¡°Now see here¡­¡± he started to say. ¡°I¡¯d like to, but you¡¯re still wearing pants. This is hardly fair.¡± James gave his most beaming smile, while Alanna, who had perched on the other side of Anesh against the wall of the pool, made encouraging nosies. ¡°Now I¡¯m being bullied.¡± He grumbled, but with a good natured smile that spoke to the fact that this was well within what he expected from his partners. ¡°No, I came down to tell you that Research has decided to throw a party, because something stupid worked the way they wanted it to, and there¡¯s gonna be pizza in a half hour or so.¡± ¡°Who ordered pizza to our secret base?¡± James asked with a confused snort of laughter. Anesh leaned down to splash at him. ¡°We¡¯re making pizza you absolute goof. You have personally taught at least six people here how to make pizza. You know how this works.¡± Laughing in earnest, James started to pull himself out of the pool. ¡°Alright, alright!¡± He said, grabbing a warm towel and handing another to Alanna as she climbed out after him, a trail of water cascading off both their forms as they started drying off. ¡°I¡¯d love to get some pizza and relax with you. Because I am way too sore to actually move around any more tonight.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not! I¡¯m inexhaustible!¡± Alanna informed them. ¡°Which is weird, because you¡¯re the one with a literal endurance stat.¡± ¡°Only works if I¡¯m pushing.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t do anything when I¡¯m sitting around.¡± Alanna¡¯s face lit up with a sadistic smile. ¡°Then you need a jog!¡± She said. ¡°No!¡± Anesh cut in. ¡°Pizza, Alanna!¡± He paused, and then set a hand on her head in a thoughtful manner. ¡°Then you can make James run. And not me. Please.¡± James was smiling as he watched the two of them start to banter, while he dried off and pulled on the clean clothes he always kept at the Lair these days. Despite renting an apartment, he practically lived in this building. After dressing, James made his way over to the hooks on the wall where a few specific magical items were kept. Copies of the same brooch, these looted artifacts from a rival and far more evil organization were capable of purifying food. And, it turned out, water counted. Even when it was filled with soap, dirt, and whatever else had clung to them from the Sewer. The one James grabbed had also recently leveled up enough to unlock a new power, which let it bind itself to a processor. It was an infuriatingly vague power that did nothing. But it was something new, which was always exciting. Though seeing that did bring a question to mind. ¡°So hey!¡± He asked Anesh, cutting off the deep kiss his boyfriend was sharing with Alanna. ¡°What exactly did Research get working anyway?¡± ¡°Oh, you know that goofy little plant pot that grows anything you put in it as a succulent?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± James asked. ¡°Wait, no. I forgot about that. That¡¯s kinda cool though.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, it can grow a cactus that makes the same magical fruit that the magical alchemy tree grows. Just slower. But hey, magical cactus!¡± Anesh smiled as James walked past where Alanna was rapidly drying herself with mechanical motions, not even bothering to try to be gentle with her skin that didn¡¯t really get scratched up anyway. ¡°And so pizza, as a treaaamph!¡± His last word got garbled as James took over the kiss from where Alanna had left off. ¡°Alright!¡± James said with a happy smile. ¡°Today¡¯s been a good day. Let¡¯s grab lunch.¡± Chapter 198 ¡°In order for me to write poetry that isn''t political, I must listen to the birds, and in order to hear the birds, the warplanes must be silent¡± -Marwan Makhoul- _____ For the last six years, Connie had been a practicing talk therapist. She was aware, in an abstract way, that there were a lot of people who used that term for themselves, but skipped a lot of the important steps. Steps like actually getting an education, for example, or actually maintaining that education. Connie complained about that a lot, when she talked to others in her field, and had accidentally offended more than one person through it, but she didn¡¯t really care that much. Well on her way to her fifties, Connie had less time to suffer fools than she used to. Recently, she¡¯d found employment with a group called the Order of Endless Rooms. The pressures of being a therapist during the time of COVID were, to put it mildly, intense. With more personal time for introspection, everyone being online and exposed to more information, and a few other less pleasant factors, there was a massive disparity between the number of therapists available, and the number of people who suddenly realized they probably actually needed to talk to someone. And as Connie was aware, being a healer in any context didn¡¯t make you immune to harm. So she¡¯d taken a side job, to fill a couple of months of personal leave she was taking. And then, she¡¯d kept that side job. Turned it into her main role; still seeing old clients but not taking new ones, slowly transitioning to a dedicated support member for the Order. The existence of nonhuman life had been a bit of a shock, to put it mildly. She was still trying to sort out how to approach dealing with the camracondas. It was one thing to be responsible for your own education on new information and techniques, it was quite another to write the book yourself. At first, she had thought someone was playing a joke on her. But if they were, it was sustained to a level that no casual prank ever had been before. And while the camracondas didn¡¯t map perfectly to human psychology, they were almost all deeply traumatized by what they¡¯d had to live through, and human therapy techniques were at least a start to helping. She¡¯d settled into a nice routine here, seeing a wide range of Order members for everything from casual sessions to talk about a single concern, to long term cognitive behavioral therapy, and also working with her counterparts to actually write the book on therapy in a world of different species and literal magic. The literal magic was also a shock, but human neuroplasticity was an impressive thing, and she got used to it fast enough. She was still waiting for approval to try using skulljacks for trauma assistance, but it was frustratingly understandable why it might be a good idea to move slowly on that. Which brought Connie up to today. Adapting to the Order¡¯s way of doing things, even if she did still get regularly shocked by whatever new crisis came up, or some bizarre magic effect settling over the building and telling her how many fish were within a hundred meters of her person. Today, she was being shocked yet again. It had been normal so far, but as she came back from a pleasant lunch upstairs, nodding politely to the knight she was pretty sure was Dave in the hall as she reentered her private room that she used for her sessions, she found someone sitting on her couch. Well, not sitting, really. Curled up on. A tense knot of a body, pressed into the corner where the arm of the couch met the cushion like they could somehow burrow into it. Staring at the door, at her, with a hyperalertness that was impossible to miss. This had happened before. Her main complaint was that some people just didn¡¯t schedule their drop ins, though for many new arrivals to the Order, the idea of scheduling wasn¡¯t something they¡¯d had forty years to get used to, so she let it go. What hadn¡¯t happened before was her seeing anything like the person on her couch. Connie assumed it was a person. She couldn¡¯t imagine anything that wasn¡¯t sitting like that being anything other than a person. There was a tension to them that she¡¯d found consistent across all her patients that had physical bodies. This one had black fur mixed with some kind of beetle shell, but it was still looking at her with mismatched eyes that were obviously intelligent, even if it had more eyes than she was used to. The extra arm wrapped around curled legs that were bent too far inward for a human just made them look even less comfortable with themself. A trio of three-fingered hands tightly gripping their own thin limbs through the long skirt they were wearing. Under the hood of the sweatshirt they were wearing despite the summer heat outside, Connie could see a triangular outline of a head, and a stunted muzzle poking out with misaligned fangs jutting from the sides. ¡°Hello.¡± She spoke softly, setting down her stack of documents with an enforced casual motion. ¡°Is there something you need help with?¡± For a long moment, Connie wondered if the rat creature actually could answer. But given how her life had been going around here, and the fact that it was wearing clothing, prompted her to treat this like a new client. So she went with her standby; be patient, wait for them to answer. Everyone needs time, sometimes. It took a few minutes, of her leaning slightly on her desk, before the person opened their mouth and tried to say something. It took them a couple false starts, and Connie got a slightly unnerving look at exactly how many fangs they had, along with the softly glowing blue of their saliva while they worked out how to start. ¡°Said I could¡­ talk to you.¡± Keeka said in a voice that was both wet and strained. Connie nodded. Good. They were both a person, and in the right place. She shifted her office chair from behind her desk to the middle of the open floor, the ritual of deliberate setup and placing herself in a completely exposed location a familiar one to her. Then she found a new notepad, and sat, smoothing her shirt briefly before she looked up at the person talking to her. ¡°Yes.¡± She said with a soft smile. ¡°That is what I am here for. I¡¯m Connie, it¡¯s nice to meet you.¡± ¡°Keeka.¡± Her patient said. Then, after a pause, nervously added, ¡°I am¡­ Keeka.¡± He spoke like he wasn¡¯t used to using full sentences. The name sounded sharp coming from his muzzle. Like an alert sound, not a word. But Connie just rolled with it. ¡°Hello Keeka.¡± She said, butchering the tone, ¡°What would you like to talk about today?¡± Oh, she had so many other questions. But personal curiosity was for the dining room and the discussion server later. Now was the time for professional targeted compassion. Again, there was a long pause before an answer. But when he spoke again, it was an almost strangled utterance of ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Which was, Connie knew, a lie. No one could hold that much tension in themselves without having something they wanted to talk about. But she didn¡¯t say that, she just waited. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t¡­ know what I¡­ should say.¡± He looked at her, hood sliding back to reveal more black fur and grey chitin, an asymmetrical cluster of what seemed like antenna in place of ears. ¡°What do I say?¡± He asked. Connie folded her hands in her lap, ignoring her notepad for now. ¡°There isn¡¯t a right answer.¡± She told him. ¡°This isn¡¯t a test, this is just a conversation. You can say anything. But if it would help you to have a starting point¡­?¡± She watched as he gave a jerking nod of his roughly triangular head. ¡°Well, something brought you here today. What is bothering you, right now?¡± She watched him struggle to speak, before adding, ¡°It is okay to take your time. There is no hurry. I do not know your species, but it is usually helpful to pause¡­¡± she waited for him to listen, and then, ¡°and take a deep breath,¡± she inhaled along with her patient, ¡°and untense.¡± She finished with an exhale. Keeka repeated the breathing exercise one more time, tension fading slightly to be replaced by a light twitching shiver of hands and folded legs. ¡°There are more of us now.¡± He said. ¡°What do you mean by us?¡± Connie prompted. No leading questions, ask directly. That was important. Ambiguity was fertile ground for anxiety, and her job was to remove that, not grow more. ¡°Me, and¡­ my¡­ other.¡± Keeka stammered out. ¡°Like me.¡± He looked down at his own body. Connie didn¡¯t press it, but she did leave an open invitation. ¡°It¡¯s important you know, for all our sessions, that you do not need to share anything you are not comfortable with. But if you do, you are safe here. Nothing you say to me leaves this room, alright?¡± ¡°Ah¡­ alright.¡± Keeka flinched. ¡°Me and my p¡­ partner.¡± He stared at Connie, as if daring her to argue, clawed fingers digging into his fur in a reflexive tightening. She nodded. ¡°Thank you for sharing.¡± She told him simply. ¡°So, there are more of you, and this has made you uncomfortable?¡± He nodded again, a sharp bob of his head that splattered a tiny drop of glowing blue saliva onto his sweatshirt where it hissed and smoked briefly before fading out to a small scorch mark. There were many such marks on the hoodie. ¡°Worried.¡± He stopped, and took a shaking breath, shaking his head and repeating himself. ¡°I¡­ am worried. I am worried, about them. That they will hurt us.¡± Connie stopped the note she was making, and looked up to meet Keeka¡¯s eyes. ¡°When you say hurt, what do you mean?¡± ¡°Claw or bite. Break our shells. Kill us.¡± Keeka said it like it meant nothing, and the seemingly casual attitude toward violence shot ice through Connie¡¯s blood. Many members of the Order were familiar with combat. But this was different. This was a blunt acceptance of something intimately painful. ¡°I am not sure that you need to talk to me about this.¡± She admitted. ¡°If there is a threat to you like that, I know several people who can help you be safe. But my role is to help you through your own emotions, not a physical threat.¡± ¡°They¡­ James says¡­ they are like us.¡± Keeka said. ¡°He says they were just afraid. That they won¡¯t hurt us. But he doesn¡¯t know.¡± He pulled himself tighter into a ball again, the small relaxation he¡¯d experienced vanishing in an instant. Connie made a note that James was involved in this, and to ask permission to speak to him. ¡°What doesn¡¯t he know?¡± She asked patiently, but Keeka didn¡¯t respond. Not just right away, but at all. He went silent, and gave a small shake of his head. ¡°That¡¯s alright. We can talk about something else. Would you like to tell me about your partner?¡± His eyes brightened for a brief flash, before the person on her couch receded again and gave her a suspicious look. ¡°You don¡¯t know him?¡± She gave a friendly shake of her own head. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know people such as you existed until this conversation. There¡¯s quite a lot going on around here, isn¡¯t there?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The word was almost a squeak. Connie made a note to try to determine if that meant amusement, or something else. ¡°Very¡­ it is very busy. Things keep changing.¡± He paused. ¡°We keep changing.¡± ¡°Good changes?¡± Connie asked. ¡°I can speak.¡± Keeka said. ¡°And it doesn¡¯t hurt. People help us. It is dry.¡± ¡°Those sound like good changes.¡± She said, listing them on paper, and listing the reasons they would be changes in her mind as things to only touch lightly. ¡°But how do you feel about them?¡± Keeka pulled his knees further up, planting his chin on them and looking at her with consideration. ¡°Strange.¡± He settled on. ¡°It is good. But why do I feel¡­ like I should feel bad, for feeling good? Do you know?¡± His eyes were focused on her, wide and hoping for an answer. Connie quirked the corner of her mouth up. ¡°Before I answer, I have a technical question, and if it is too personal, you can tell me you don¡¯t want to answer. Are you human?¡± ¡°No.¡± Keeka said instantly. She nodded. ¡°Well, then I can¡¯t tell you with certainty. But for humans¡­ our minds want us to be useful. Useful to ourselves, useful to our community, useful to our partners.¡± She motioned to him with her pen as she said the last line. ¡°When we are doing that, it feels good. When what we¡¯re doing is part of a group, and everyone is helping everyone, it feels better. But if we don¡¯t feel like we are useful, then anyone helping us can make our minds turn on themselves. We would call this shame, or embarrassment. We feel like we¡¯re failing because we need to rely on others. Does that sound familiar?¡± Keeka nodded. ¡°Like I am not good enough.¡± He said in a wet hiss. ¡°Arrush helps. What do I do? Doesn¡¯t need me.¡± Their sentence structure and speaking pattern started to break down into clipped fragments. ¡°Is Arrush your partner?¡± ¡°Oth- no. Yes. Partner.¡± Keeka said, breaking eye contact to stare at the wall. Connie nodded. ¡°Then it sounds like you¡¯re very much like a human.¡± She said in a comforting tone. Keeka whipped his head back around, a few blue droplets splashing to the couch and carpet. ¡°What?¡± He demanded with a confused and harsh voice. ¡°Oh yes.¡± Connie told him. ¡°Many of us are conditioned to not show vulnerability. To push away that shame, and not acknowledge it. Because it is hard to trust people, isn¡¯t it? Especially if you¡¯ve been hurt before.¡± Keeka nodded again, slowly and suspiciously, like he knew he was walking into a trap. ¡°But also, in a lot of ways, all of us already know, deep down, how silly that is. Let me ask you a question. What if you were the one helping, and.. Arrush? Arrush was in your position. What would you do?¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t understand.¡± Keeka said. ¡°Would you hate him?¡± Connie prompted. ¡°Would you be mad at him?¡± ¡°No!¡± The word was sharp and loud, approaching a battle cry, complete with Keeka starting to uncurl one of his arms, claws extended, before he caught himself. ¡°No!¡± He repeated, quieter. Connie didn¡¯t react to the motion, except to make a note to get Planner to schedule her an appointment with the partner, if possible and he was willing. ¡°Most of us are like that.¡± She told him quietly, as he tried to push himself even deeper into the couch, claws scratching and pulling at the seams of his skirt. ¡°You know you would never hurt anyone who was vulnerable with you. Especially not someone you cared for. But we can have trouble seeing that others would do the same.¡± ¡°Does this make me bad?¡± Keeka asked her in a tiny voice, a sizzling liquid pooling in the corners of his eyes. ¡°I keep making mistakes.¡± ¡°Of course not.¡± Connie said firmly. ¡°It makes you a perfectly normal person.¡± She told him, moving slowly to offer him a box of tissues that he took with two clawed hands, leaving his third arm still holding his knees in place. He didn¡¯t do anything with the tissues, just sank his claws into the soft cardboard, but at least it seemed to help. ¡°Would you like to tell me what you¡¯re worried about?¡± It took a minute, and Keeka wiping burning tears away on the scorched trail on the arm of his sweatshirt, but he did eventually answer. ¡°I think¡­ I am scared.¡± Keeka said in a near silent hiss. ¡°Of¡­ of¡­ of everyone.¡± Connie nodded slowly. ¡°And do you know what?¡± He looked up from the box he was slowly dismantling, eyes snapping to hers. ¡°That¡¯s perfectly valid.¡± She told him. ¡°It¡¯s okay to be scared. It¡¯s okay to not know. And if you¡¯d like, you can come back, and we can talk about it more, and try to understand it. Does that sound good?¡± Keeka wiped away another set of tears from his left eyes. ¡°Yes.¡± He whispered. ¡°Now, if you need to talk more today, I can reschedule the next person. But if you think you¡¯ll be okay for a few days, Planner can make time for you in my rotation. What would you prefer?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to¡­ be in the way.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I asked you.¡± Connie¡¯s voice was firm. ¡°Just because you need help does not mean you are in anyone¡¯s way. Especially not here.¡± Keeka flinched, but then took a breath and steadied himself, looking up at her. ¡°No.¡± He settled on. ¡°I will come back.¡± ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll have Planner contact you soon, okay?¡± Connie stood and moved her chair back. ¡°And I can¡¯t make you do anything, but I think you know it would be a good idea to share with your partner what¡¯s worrying you. I think you know he¡¯ll understand, don¡¯t you?¡± Keeka nodded, and watched as Connie opened the door, cocking his head at the motion she made before he realized he was being invited to step out. He jolted to his feet, and Connie raised her eyebrows as his form seemed to unfold like a puzzlebox. Strangely jointed limbs, legs that made odd angles under the long skirt, and a torso that was a little too thin and tight, plus a neck that was a bit too long, made for an uncanny looking body that was far more obvious when standing. He seemed to notice her discomfort and tugged his hood closer over his eyes. ¡°Sorry.¡± He muttered. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to apologize for.¡± She told him, leading him out to the small waiting room, and noticing that there was someone different sitting on her couch. ¡°Oh. Good afternoon. Dave, right? Did we have an appointment?¡± ¡°Oh, no, sorry!¡± Dave said, shoving his phone in his pocket and waving awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯m just here for moral support. How¡¯d it go?¡± He asked Keeka. ¡°Good.¡± The ratroach answered, before slipping past and out the door in a rapid rush of limbs. Dave snorted a laugh, and stood up. ¡°Thanks for seeing him on short notice.¡± He told Connie. ¡°He hasn¡¯t been doing okay, and wouldn¡¯t really talk to anyway.¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Well, some warning would be nice next time.¡± She told him. ¡°What¡­ if I could ask, what is he?¡± ¡°Oh! I thought I left a note!¡± Dave said. ¡°Whoops! Also they¡¯re ratroaches.¡± ¡°That is a terrible name.¡± Connie informed him. ¡°Come up with something better. Also don¡¯t just let him leave without you if you¡¯re his support.¡± ¡°Right!¡± Dave exclaimed, jolting to his feet. ¡°Sorry ma¡¯am!¡± He followed out the door, looking both directions to try to figure out where Keeka had gone. ¡°Uh¡­¡± he started one way, vanishing down the basement hall, before rushing back across in the other direction. Connie sighed, went over, and closed her door, before turning to the incredibly patient and quiet camraconda on the other waiting room couch. ¡°Good afternoon Smell-Of-Grass. How has your week been?¡± She asked as she led them back into the other room. ¡°Pleasant. I have decided summer is the superior season.¡± They said in their digital voice. Connie smiled, and shut the door. Never a dull day around here. ______ One of the major perks, James had decided, of getting into the kind of physical shape that was sort of required to not die deeper into any given dungeon, was that he could be more physical with his partners. Which is to say, he could drape himself over the naked back of one Anesh¡¯s who was laying on their bed, while his upper body curled into another sitting on that same bed but propped against the wall. And he could easily keep himself pushed up in just the right way so as to not crush anyone, and it was barely tiring at all. It was a little tiring though. But it was also comfortable, and had that kind of electric excitement that came from close and intimate skin contact with a person you loved, even if you weren¡¯t actually having sex. And they weren¡¯t, currently, having sex. Because at the moment, both Anesh, unsynced from each other, were trying to apply their slightly different perspectives to making a very specific blue orb item work properly. And James was being a distraction. ¡°So the problem made itself, you see?¡± He was rambling. ¡°The existence of cars and cheap gas basically ¡®solves¡¯ in massive air quotes the problem of the sprawl. And because our architecture technology has sorta advanced a ton, after the advent of the automobile, we¡¯ve mostly been designing for a world where people can drive.¡± ¡°Yup.¡± Both Anesh said, staring at the blue orb they had sitting on the bed in front of them, along with a few other things that didn¡¯t really belong on a bed. At least, according to the very narrow list of things James believed belonged on beds. In the background noise of their shared apartment, the hissing sound of pouring water cut off with a small squeak, and shortly afterward, a damp Alanna stepped out of the bathroom attached to their shared bedroom. ¡°You know, now that I¡¯m getting used to the giant magical bath¡­¡± She mused, running a towel over her limbs. ¡°Right?¡± James said. ¡°Best cultural decision someone else made, honestly. Showers don¡¯t compare.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a close race, but you¡¯re right.¡± Alanna flopped on the bed with a wet lashing sound as her damp hair impacted the balled up comforter on the end of the bed. ¡°So, what¡¯re you cuties up to now?¡± ¡°James is distracting us.¡± Both Anesh said simultaneously. ¡°I¡¯m-¡° James cut off as Anesh got there before him. ¡°Alright, fine, I¡¯m distracting Anesh. But also I¡¯m talking about city design.¡± Alanna nodded, pulling herself forward to weasel into the pile of limbs her partners had become. ¡°And what is Anesh doing that you¡¯re distracting?¡± ¡°Trying to remake a telepad.¡± Anesh said. ¡°And it¡¯s annoying.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Alanna twisted away from looking up at Anesh¡¯s face to focus on James. ¡°He¡¯s not supposed to be working right now, so tell me about cities!¡± She said with a somewhat suggestive grin. James laughed shortly, before rolling in Anesh¡¯s lap to face her and getting shoved off onto the blankets as Anesh lunged to save the blue orb he was working with from being crushed. ¡°Okay, so, cities are big, right?¡± James started. ¡°So I¡¯ve heard!¡± Alanna answered. ¡°Wait, is this going to be another ¡®just use the orange orbs to solve everything¡¯ thing? Because you know we can¡¯t make that work on a civic scale without¡­ a lot more orbs. Like a lot a lot.¡± ¡°No!¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°And I only thought that for a month before someone corrected me. No, this is just about normal-ass human follies. We keep building out.¡± He punctuated the word by throwing his hands over his head to thump into a pillow, Anesh again narrowly pulling the orb he was working with out of the way of James¡¯ hands. Alanna nodded as she settled in and got comfortable on the bed with them. ¡°Out, like, as opposed to what? Down? You wanna build Tokyo Three?¡± ¡°I¡­ actually that¡¯s¡­ okay, no, for a few reasons, but also sort of. But verticality is what I¡¯m talking about. Like¡­ okay, think of the strip mall near us. Picture it in your mind¡¯s eye.¡± ¡°Please stay out of my mind¡¯s eye.¡± Anesh muttered. ¡°We are working.¡± ¡°Sure, I¡¯ve got it. What about it?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Alright. So, you¡¯ve got a bunch of big box stores, a grocery store, a handful of restaurants, and then a bunch of other random little places. And exactly zero two story buildings. And then, a billion square acres of parking lot.¡± ¡°Okay, yeah, I hadn¡¯t really¡­ thought about that before, I get where this is going I think. Also it¡¯s just acres. Acres are¡­ acres are square footage, I think?¡± Alanna twisted her body to reach for her phone sitting on a nightstand, anything sexy about the motion of her nude form eliminated when she kneed James in the ribs. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said as he gasped for breath, before tossing her phone onto a pillow, ¡°it¡¯s just acres.¡± ¡°Ohhhkay!¡± James wheezed. ¡°Well, the thing is, literally every part of the property could be better used, with one extra floor, right? And I understand that it¡¯s expensive to build stuff, but we¡¯re not really talking about ¡®cost to the developer¡¯ here, we¡¯re talking about, like, ¡®social structuring¡¯. It would be possible even in our capitalist hellhole to create incentives to build up. You put the smaller retail stores and offices for things like insurance or banking on the second story, and then the food on the ground floor. The major outlets that do high volume retail stay on the ground floor for shipping reasons, which is its own thing that could be fussed with, but that¡¯s not for now.¡± ¡°Okay, question.¡± Alanna poked him, cutting off his explanation with a motion that went from a prod to a light caress and then a less light tickle of his stomach. ¡°Accessibility.¡± ¡°¡­is that a question yet?¡± ¡°How do accessibility?¡± She asked. ¡°See, it¡¯s a question because I used that sound at the end where it goes up in pitch.¡± James tried to grab and gnaw on her hand, getting a laugh from his partner before she escaped, and he refocused. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s more expensive, but you just use some of the upstairs space as communal walkways - maybe even external space, build it like a pyramid, I dunno, that¡¯s probably bad for some reason - and then have central elevators or escalators. Stairs too, obviously, but there needs to be ADA stuff, obviously.¡± ¡°That really does sound like it would be more expensive.¡± ¡°I mean, I dunno what the upkeep on an elevator is like, because that¡¯s Karen¡¯s domain, and I¡¯m gonna message her in a second to ask. But, how many would you really need, compared to how many more businesses you could put in a central space? It must be in favor of elevators, right?¡± ¡°It¡¯d screw up parking.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°Parking already sucks there, during the day.¡± ¡°Yeah, so, like¡­ parking already sucks. And they¡¯re using the majority of the physical terrain for it. Which makes me think parking might be a terrible idea? But also, allow me to introduce you to a novel new architectural innovation that I call ¡®the parking structure¡¯.¡± James clapped his hands together and arced them away from each other like he was forming a rainbow. ¡°Designed in 2019 by John M. Parking-Structure, the parking structure is a structure that is built to facilitate parking. It accomplishes this by being a parking lot, but tall. In this essay I will-¡° Alanna rolled herself forward and lunged, tackling James into the mattress with a yelp. One Anesh became a casualty of the sudden assault, while the version of himself that was sitting against the wall holding an orb and a notepad in each hand simply allowed his boyfriend to be swept away, trying his hardest to ignore the noises that were either screams or giggles depending on how you interpreted it. ¡°Light rail!¡± James gasped out, reaching for an Anesh who simply cocked an eyebrow and left him to his fate as Alanna tried to blow raspberries on his neck. ¡°Light rail!¡± ¡°You can¡¯t get out of this by yelling civic devices this time, Lyle!¡± His girlfriend challenged him, pulling him back down, while the other Anesh dragged himself away and crawled around the bed on the floor to prop himself back up next to his double. ¡°These are inconvenient working conditions.¡± One Anesh said to the other. ¡°For an inconvenient problem.¡± James rolled over Anesh¡¯s legs, trying to grab onto his boyfriend as Alanna continued her assault. ¡°All blue orb creations are inconvenient and also help me!¡± He gasped out in a voice of frantic laughter, before Alanna pulled him to the side again. As his partners continued to play fight, Anesh couldn¡¯t keep a smile off his faces. He actually was trying to make this work, and they were a massive distraction, especially when they were doing that naked. But they were still adorable, even if they were introducing inconvenience to his work. Anesh paused, and shared a glance with himself, as their mostly parallel thoughts intersected. ¡°It couldn¡¯t be that easy, right?¡± He muttered in two voices. In his hands, he readjusted his grip on the small fifty page pocket notebook, the rank two blue orb, and the yellow he planned on powering it with. Then, he took a deep breath, and imagined. But this time, instead of trying to push away the distractions and annoyances, he let them all in. Alanna and James making noise and bumping him, the iLipede hovering within worrying range on the desk near his head, the slightly uncomfortable warmth of the apartment in summer when the AC wasn¡¯t good enough even with the green orb that powered it. He just¡­ let it color his thoughts. The telepads were annoying, weren¡¯t they? They were capricious, finicky, and sometimes they sent your girlfriend to Florida for a few months. They required annoying precision and had stupid caveats and wouldn¡¯t let you go to the moon. Suddenly Anesh realized why James thought the blue items were ¡®alive¡¯ in a way, and more why he thought they were ¡®sarcastic¡¯ in a bigger way. And all his memories of running D&D games for his friends surged to the fore of his mind. The telepads were like a GM, telling the players to stop fucking around. The orbs in his hands vanished, swirling into the notepad in a haze of dust. And just like that, Anesh had a telepad. Or something like it. He was absolutely sure this one was going to have some new and silly issue. But he yelled in triumph anyway. ¡°Finally!¡± He cried, loud enough that it startled James and Alanna out of whatever they were doing. ¡°My Magnum Opus!¡± ¡°Like from Bloom County?¡± James asked, the electric energy of laughter still flowing through his voice. ¡°Like from I made a telepad!¡± Anesh announced. ¡°Or something telepad-esque!¡± He briefly paused as he said the word, realizing just how much James had rubbed off on him since they¡¯d become friends, and then more than friends. ¡°You two are very sexy like that.¡± One of him said, and both of him flushed as his brain caught up to what he¡¯d said on a spontaneous whim. James and Alanna made doe eyes at him, before they attempted to drag both present Anesh into their tangle of blankets and limbs, for a very different kind of affection than they¡¯d been showing each other. Roughly an hour later, after they¡¯d all showered again, James found himself in their kitchen, throwing together some simple tuna melts for their dinner before he asked his partners if they wanted to go on a walk with him and enjoy the fact that it was eleven PM and still eighty degrees outside. When Anesh walked in, flipping through the blank pages of his new possibly-telepad, James gave him a goofy grin before speaking. ¡°Hey, can you grab me an onion? I¡¯m makin¡¯ some food.¡± ¡°Sure. What kind?¡± Anesh said, quickly slipping the telepad into his pocket. ¡°Red.¡± James said. Anesh nodded. Then looked around. ¡°Uh¡­ where are the onions?¡± He asked, suddenly realizing James was the one in the kitchen and he was standing amid the couches and table of their living room. ¡°Basement.¡± James said with a toothy smile. ¡°The pantry is the door on the left.¡± Anesh tapped his knuckles against his forehead for a second before he sighed. ¡°Right.¡± He said, and turned to the door in their second floor apartment¡¯s hallway, popping it open and taking the thin set of stairs down into a space that was, somehow, not the apartment directly below them. When Alanna came out and asked where Anesh was, and James repeated the word ¡®basement¡¯, she gave another sigh, but one that was a lot more wistful. ¡°Fuck, man, life is getting really fun, isn¡¯t it?¡± She asked James. ¡°That reminds me!¡± James said. ¡°Speaking of fun things! We have a choice to make tomorrow.¡± ¡°Of whether we go into Officium Mundi?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°At least one of us is.¡± He and his duplicate jutted their thumbs at each other. ¡°Because, you know, the whole thing about flooding the market for platinum. And also something about cancer.¡± James shook his head. ¡°No, though the platinum thing is gonna start being a problem soon according to the people who are better at the commodities market than I am. Though that wasn¡¯t what I was talking about.¡± He pulled the sheet tray out of the oven, and started sliding sandwich halves onto plates to be assembled to the whims of his partners. ¡°I¡¯m taking about the new place, that we got a call about a couple weeks ago.¡± ¡°The library!¡± Alanna lit up like a beacon. ¡°I¡¯m in! Also it¡¯s real?¡± ¡°The scout group confirmed it.¡± James nodded. ¡°Charlie left a message on the server. We¡¯ve got a whole new section for library things, and a channel just for people coming up with bad names.¡± ¡°Have I met Charlie?¡± Alanna asked. Anesh gave a shrug, and answered while James tried to deal with the oversized bite of food he¡¯d taken. ¡°Probably. He¡¯s been around for a long time as part of the support group for Office survivors. Didn¡¯t really engage with the rest of us, but from what Sarah¡¯s told me, he kind of adopted one of the new camracondas. They don¡¯t do Response stuff, or a lot of delve activities, but they¡¯re getting more involved and they volunteered to check out the library.¡± He paused. ¡°Also I think Charlie is one of the people who¡¯s made a good .mem file? But I¡¯ll have to check.¡± ¡°What for?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Like, not what for why did he do that, but what for, what skill did he make a file for?¡± ¡°Kayaking.¡± James said. ¡°Fuck, I wanna go kayaking now.¡± Alanna muttered. ¡°Can we go kayaking?¡± ¡°¡­Yes?¡± James said. ¡°I mean, yes, sure. Like, we basically can do whatever we want, whenever we want. We are self-actualized and free. You wanna go camping? Let¡¯s fucking go camping. Anesh! Go get me a tent!¡± Anesh eyed James over the plates he¡¯d just been passed. ¡°Where¡¯s the tent?¡± He asked, already knowing the answer in his heart. ¡°Basement!¡± James told him. Anesh nodded. ¡°No.¡± He said while one of him ate. ¡°Also I would like to check out the library with you two tomorrow. So no camping right now.¡± ¡°Alanna, we¡¯ll have to postpone kayaking.¡± James sadly informed her. She shrugged. ¡°Maybe there¡¯ll be a river of liquid books or something that we can use.¡± _____ ¡°Dave!¡± James caught his friend in passing as they crossed paths at the door to the lair. ¡°How¡¯ve ya been!¡± ¡°What? Oh!¡± Dave snapped his head up from his phone. ¡°I¡¯m good, actually. Busy, though, I guess. I¡¯ve been helping with the new paper dragons, and they¡¯re kinda silly while they¡¯re growing up. And, uh, I guess that¡¯s mostly it?¡± ¡°Hey, that sounds like enough, honestly.¡± James chuckled. ¡°I got tackled by one the other day; they¡¯re almost big enough that the basement is gonna get too small for them in a couple months.¡± ¡°Yeah, I feel bad about that.¡± Dave nodded. ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to be careful in the future. Cause you know, since we know that they can grow at roughly the same speed, we can sort of time it so that they¡¯re ready to migrate to outside when it¡¯s summer?¡± He shrugged. ¡°That way we have some leeway on when we get their feathers laminated, so they¡¯re more waterproof.¡± ¡°Oh, man, I didn¡¯t even think about that.¡± James replied with a wide eyed look. ¡°But, like, we can work around that, right? Make a few big barns for them, so they have some shelter that¡¯s big enough? We¡¯ve got that plot of land out in¡­ Yamhill? Yakima? One of the Y-places. Yamhill I think. Also, wait, is Pendragon waterproof? She must be, right?¡± ¡°Pendragon¡¯s mostly aircraft aluminum right now.¡± Dave said. ¡°But I don¡¯t think that¡¯s part of a natural life cycle. Not that I guess anyone knows what that is, for these guys. Maybe they could just stop growing at roughly dog size?¡± He shrugged. ¡°I dunno, I think they might all grow up different. It¡¯s a learning experience.¡± James nodded along. ¡°We get those a lot around here, huh?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s really exhausting.¡± Dave confirmed. ¡°Oh, speaking of, Karen¡¯s somewhere around here and wanted to talk to you about securing the lease on the building that Officium Mundi is in.¡± ¡°She absolutely does not need my permission to do that.¡± James said flatly. It had been an uphill battle, but James had been trying to remove himself from a command position. Not that he was abdicating his responsibility to be a leader, but he didn¡¯t want people going through him for the final say on decisions. The Order was, as he was intentionally pushing it to be, in a weird relationship with the nature of power. It was something that was very hard to codify, but what they all actively wanted was a situation where people solved problems on their own initiative, and could have an easy time calling for support when they needed it from each other. An organizational structure where no one was at the top. Oh, there were people who were leaders, especially of the individual divisions that had formed. But while there were certain set powers vested in those who had been voted into their roles, like veto power due to the safety (or abject lack of safety) of a Research experiment, or the final call on Response deployment, at the end of the day it was a much more fluid power structure than anywhere else James knew of. It was founded on trust. Not just personal trust, but collective, group trust, in the structure of the Order pushing people to do their best, and everyone being on hand to curb any attempted abuses. It wasn¡¯t perfect. But it was working. Their form of direct representational democracy might not scale well into the future, but at the moment, it let them respond to new problems rapidly, while still letting everyone¡¯s voices be heard. James looked forward to seeing how problems evolved from this, as time went by. Especially as they expanded. But for now, he needed to establish that he was not in charge, even if people were welcome to take his advice and follow his lead. ¡°Yeah, she knows she doesn¡¯t.¡± Dave said, bringing James back to the present. ¡°She already did it. I think. It¡¯s actually kind of wild that we¡¯re rich, by the way. But she had some questions for you, and anyone in Research or Ritual, about how the dungeon might change if the building is under our control and not being used as an actual office. Because, you know, the dungeon is an Office.¡± ¡°That is¡­ a good point.¡± James hummed. ¡°Maybe we just sublet it? No, wait, that¡¯s¡­ horrible. Actually, this is weird. Can we talk about this later?¡± ¡°I mean, talk to Karen about it. I¡¯m busy with other stuff. Oh! Also! Keeka wanted to talk to you, but he¡¯s afraid to say that, so I¡¯m telling you.¡± Dave nodded with a very self-satisfied look on his face, for remembering to share that detail. ¡°Thanks, Dave.¡± James said, with minimal sarcasm in his voice. Then he sighed, and tried again. ¡°Actually, thanks. I need to be doing better about¡­ a lot of interpersonal stuff. Do you know where Keeka is?¡± Dave shook his head. ¡°Nah, he vanishes when no one is looking. In the building probably?¡± He offered unhelpfully. ¡°Anyway, I need to get going. I¡¯ve gotta pick up my mom from a doctor¡¯s appointment.¡± He jingled his car keys. James almost asked why he didn¡¯t just teleport, but refrained, instead stepping back and motioning to the door with an elegant bow. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll talk to you later. Oh, you wanna come to the library with us tonight?¡± ¡°Nah, like I said, I¡¯m busy. No real time for a new book.¡± He gave James a short shrug, and pushed his way out the front door. ¡°No, Dave, the¡­! Dammit.¡± James sighed. ¡°I mean, I feel like he knew what I meant. But¡­¡± He turned and looked around for anyone who was nearby. ¡°Do you think he knew what I meant?¡± He asked anyone within twenty feet. No one gave him a good answer. With a deep sigh, James just solved the problem with a text message, and headed into the building to find the stealthiest ratroach in the world before he had to head out to explore an extradimensional library. Then, after thinking about that sentence, he rescinded the sigh, on the grounds that his day was going great and his life was kinda fantastic. Chapter 199 ¡°Alas poor Yorik, it¡¯s clobberin¡¯ time.¡± -Ben Ulmer- _____ A thumbtack entered a pin board, bringing with it the sheet of paper that had just been moved. A moment later, a loop of green yarn around the tack was pulled taut as it was once again connected to another point on the board. ¡°Like this!¡± Sarah¡¯s voice cut through the hum of a powerful air conditioning unit and the rustle of a half dozen people working on their own stuff in the back room of the Order¡¯s home base. ¡°See? It makes perfect sense.¡± She shot a beaming grin of self satisfaction to the woman she was working with. Karen, almost two decades her elder, and certainly two decades grumpier on the average day of work here, folded her arms and frowned. ¡°This does not make sense at all.¡± She told Sarah, tilting her head slightly to look at the broader picture of their board. ¡°It leaves this team without a dedicated defender.¡± She tapped a separate confluence of pages with a single precise jot of a red painted fingernail. ¡°It¡¯s better this way, though.¡± Sarah insisted. ¡°Explain to me why.¡± Karen asked. Her time with the Order had changed Karen quite a lot. While it had failed to ease the blunt way she approached conversations, and had probably only made her workaholic nature worse, it had given her an appreciation for the way some of the people she now worked with were almost hyper competent in their fields. And she absolutely was not the kind of fool to pass up the chance to learn from the best. Sarah nodded, and pointed to the page she¡¯d moved. It was a printout of a simple Order dossier, a picture, some personal info, and a quick overview of abilities and specializations. This one was for a guy named Matt who had joined as part of the Response program a while back, and had been moved to delving after he hadn¡¯t done well there. ¡°Okay, so.¡± Sarah started. She took a deep, deep breath. ¡°Putting Matt on team six means he¡¯d mostly be in Route Horizon. But he won¡¯t like that. He¡¯ll get a bad case of co-pilot syndrome real fast. Also, the whole point of this is to put him with people who will challenge his worldview in a way that will be constructive for him. But team six has two Horizonists in it, and Matt¡¯s very Lutheran, in a way that makes that a terrible idea. So we put him here.¡± Sarah tapped the other cluster she¡¯d been trying to put together. ¡°Reform a team around Simon, because Simon needs to not be alone, no matter what he keeps saying in his stupid self-depreciating vaguely-necromantic way about having plenty of company from a ghost. Post them in Officium Mundi, probably use them as the first long term outpost team, because Simon and Matt are both the kind of people who thrive when you give them light instructions and high stakes situations. Also Matt actually enjoys fighting, so putting him in Officium Mundi works, even if we do make friends with things half the time. To them, we add one of the potions who are interested in seeing what we do, so they all push each other¡¯s boundaries, and then Magneto, who needs more walks anyway.¡± She didn¡¯t have a printout for the mongausse, the dog-shaped creature made of a magnetic field, so Sarah just wrote it in pen under Simon¡¯s page. ¡°He loves Simon anyway. It¡¯ll be perfect. And they¡¯ll be a good reaction team to build that trust on in case we ever need someone for a quick reaction to the Akashic Sewer breaching, or any other dungeon murder-wave. Oh! And then team six! To them, we move Momo, and then don¡¯t tell her until later, because she¡¯ll love the place and it¡¯ll get her some sun finally. And they don¡¯t need a guardian because they¡¯ll mostly be doing car stuff. Besides, we can just give them orbs or dot-mems or something to give them a grounded understanding of evasion and survival tactics. Kirk and Amy already have a relationstick connection, and I bet Momo could form one with at least one of them. We can put Sunrise-In-Clouds on there too, because camracondas would do great when it¡¯s a shared vehicle balancing out motion, and Momo¡¯s relationsticked to him anyway already, and mixed species teams are a good habit for the Order to get into early so no one questions it later. And then if we get them the Attic book, they can do the avatar thing in an emergency! Plus Amy is curious about the other species, and since she¡¯s actually only part time with us, I kinda want to lure her in more.¡± She took a deep breath, and smiled at Karen, tilting her head up slightly to look at her fellow planning committee member. ¡°See?¡± Karen stared at the simple sheets of paper pinned to their board, and the new web Sarah had woven. She clamped her eyes shut, and opened them, wondering if the words would have changed during her long blink, but it was all the same. ¡°The vast majority of the words you just said have nothing to do with what is written on the dossiers we are using.¡± Karen said slowly and deliberately. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Sarah looked back at their planning board. ¡°Yes.¡± She nodded once. ¡°You¡¯re right. Wow, huh! We should really flesh these out a bit.¡± ¡°With everyone¡¯s deeper personal emotions, so that anyone could reference your inner desires or shames as is convenient for team planning?¡± Karen asked. ¡°And also your long term intentions for developing adversity-tested trust?¡± Sarah held up a finger and opened her mouth, before pursing her lips and tapping the finger against her closed mouth. ¡°Hmmmm.¡± She uttered. ¡°Okay. Ooooookay, I see why¡­ that might not be¡­ great.¡± She admitted. ¡°But, isn¡¯t that what we¡¯re doing now? I mean, we¡¯re trying to organize the best teams we can, right?¡± ¡°I wonder.¡± Karen said. ¡°If perhaps, we have different ideas of what ¡®best¡¯ might mean.¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯m trying to get everyone to be their best.¡± Sarah said. ¡°What are you going for?¡± Karen clicked the pen in her hand a few times, her one concession to idle motion. ¡°I was more interested in building teams that will be effective now.¡± She said. ¡°Though I see the value of what you¡¯re doing, don¡¯t misunderstand. But both team six, and your hypothetical team¡­ nine¡­ would need weeks or months to fully grow into working together well. Whereas the setup I suggested would be competent now.¡± ¡°Are we in a rush?¡± Sarah asked, raising her eyebrows. ¡°We¡¯ve got more magic than we know what to do with! Everyone¡¯s already so busy, I can¡¯t even find time to schedule everyone for avatar practice!¡± ¡°Yes, actually, let¡¯s back up to that. You¡¯ve said that word twice now.¡± Karen frowned suspiciously. ¡°Is this going to be something else that will get in the way of streamlining how we operate?¡± With an energetic series of nods that sent her ponytail splaying around her face, Sarah smiled back. ¡°Oh, absolutely, yes.¡± She said. ¡°So, the Clutter Ascent book, the one that¡¯s full of stars, you heard about that?¡± ¡°My daughter told me something about it in passing. It¡­ makes the links stronger?¡± Karen prompted. Sarah shrugged. ¡°It makes them longer. It lets you bridge different people you¡¯re connected to, and move anything that¡¯s part of the¡­ network? I guess it¡¯s a network, yeah. We need better words for this, this is really more James¡¯ department than mine. But it also lets you use whatever transmission requirement is easiest. So as long as someone has ¡®just nearby enough¡¯,¡± She made quote marks with her hands in the air, ¡°then you can send a lot of different perks to a single person.¡± ¡°At the cost of the others.¡± ¡°Well yeah, it¡¯s a zero-sum transfer.¡± Sarah agreed. ¡°And people can take stuff back without warning. So it needs trust, and coordination, which¡­ uh¡­¡± She waved her arms around wildly. Karen almost laughed, but opted for a brief huff of air through her nose instead. ¡°Yes, all of this, I am aware.¡± She said. ¡°Would you like Planner or me to help you schedule your practice?¡± She offered politely. ¡°Well, uh¡­¡± Sarah looked away sheepishly. ¡°I may have¡­ a few dozen people to schedule.¡± She said, holding her hands behind her back. ¡°So, yes? Please?¡± She grinned a pearly smile at Karen, eyes dancing with barely hidden amusement. With a deep sigh, Karen pulled out her phone and entered a note into her to-do list. She would get to work on this later, but she had promised to help already. Regret was for people who didn¡¯t actually mean what they said. ¡°Well.¡± She said, turning back to the board. ¡°We have eight people left to assign. I would put Alex on team one, but I look forward to learning why I am wrong.¡± She held out the page to Sarah. The younger woman¡¯s face lit up as the wheels in her brain started to turn. _____ ¡°Here.¡± Nate tossed a USB stick onto the condemned ruin that passed for JP¡¯s desk. ¡°Brought you a new toy, fresh from somewhere with less thunderstorms going on.¡± ¡°I think there¡¯s a special name for it when there¡¯s no rain.¡± JP answered without looking up right away. When he did, he moved with a kind of casual air that made it hard to remember he was running the ongoing cleanup effort of a city that had undergone a mass casualty event within the last year. A casual air, and a flick of hair that was somehow still elegantly disheveled in a very calculated way. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Memory file.¡± Nate answered, turning his bald head slightly and tapping the fairly recent skulljack port on the back of his neck. ¡°Homebrewed, authentic ability. All yours. And whoever you think you should give it to.¡± ¡°What for?¡± JP raised his eyebrows as he picked up the USB. ¡°Wait, you made this?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± Nate said simply. ¡°And it¡¯s mostly marksmanship drills. Every bit of it I could dredge up.¡± He sped up speaking as JP plugged the USB into his laptop and started looking for a connector cable for his own skulljack. ¡°Momo, who I vaguely trust on this, ordered me to tell you that it¡¯s ¡¯safe enough¡¯, but that you should only run it with an infomorph on standby.¡± JP froze with a short length of Ethernet cable in his hand. ¡°¡­Why?¡± He asked in a suspicious drawl. ¡°Something about residual emotional contamination that I didn¡¯t fully get. We¡¯re calling this an early attempt, until I can make a better one. Turns out, James¡¯ magical no-miss juice doesn¡¯t work on these things, and I¡¯m a better shot than all of you. So only use it in emergencies. Anyway, how¡¯s the week been here?¡± ¡°James is influencing you too much.¡± JP sighed. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be the professional. Also, it¡¯s going alright. We¡¯re actually off the eastern power grid now, which took a lot of favors and bribes to make happen, but hopefully it¡¯ll cut down on the fires. I¡¯m not looking forward to this heat wave though. Without an actual fire department, and with no one here being a sea witch, we¡¯re basically just waiting for something important to catch fire that we can¡¯t deal with.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what a sea witch is.¡± ¡°Sure. But I¡¯m not kidding, it¡¯s a disaster waiting to happen. If it weren¡¯t for the necroads literally attacking small fires, we¡¯d already be out of here.¡± JP shrugged. ¡°Also, there just isn¡¯t much here for us. I know a lot of people are into the idea of owning a city, but holy shit, we do not have the person-power for this.¡± ¡°I could get some more people.¡± Nate offered. ¡°James more or less okayed us to recruit more. I can find people.¡± ¡°¡­What people?¡± JP narrowed his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m mostly thinking of intercepting army recruiters in rural towns.¡± Nate crossed his arms. ¡°Gotta ask, what are you still doing here, anyway?¡± ¡°Me, or our task force?¡± ¡°Second one.¡± JP shoved a stack of folders on his desk aside, revealing a clipboard with a few big line items written on it in thick black marker. ¡°Securing the dungeon entrance is the big one. Observing the necroads is another; we¡¯ve actually got a few people with zoologist qualifications who are interested in how they¡¯re changing, and I¡¯m kinda wondering if they¡¯re¡­ people, now?¡± ¡°Complicates shit.¡± Nate snorted. ¡°That¡¯s our lives.¡± JP agreed. ¡°Also, this is a good training ground for the rogues. Actual hands on practice with breaching security on places that still have intact security, and are real, is pretty nice. But that¡¯s sorta secondary. Oh, we were also getting personal effects from the displaced population, but that¡¯s wrapped up now. And obviously, clearing out anything valuable. Banks, anywhere with useful tools, other high value targets. We¡¯ve got a giant bag full of gemstones if you want it? That¡¯s kinda incidental.¡± ¡°Could come in handy, but the Order¡¯s set for cash.¡± Nate reminded him. JP laughed. ¡°Yeah, how weird is that?¡± Nate shrugged, not really engaged that much with the comment. ¡°Well, we did co-opt a bunch of millionaires.¡± He said. JP just raised his eyebrows. ¡°Yeah.¡± He repeated. ¡°How weird is that?¡± ¡°Point. Dungeon¡¯s important though, so we should keep at least an outpost here.¡± ¡°Also we¡¯re a great dumping ground for misfits.¡± JP grinned, reaching out a hand holding up an empty beer bottle like a torch. ¡°Bring me your cultists, your ratroaches, your giant invisible cats¡­¡± He intoned the words with the cadence of old poetry. Nate looked around the cluttered back office that used to belong to a hotel manager, and now was used by JP as his desk and random assorted problem storage. ¡°That fucking cat. Is it still around here?¡± ¡°Yes? Not, like, in this room.¡± JP said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°It hates me.¡± Nate answered. ¡°Feeling¡¯s mutual. It¡¯s a dick.¡± JP just stared at him with narrowed eyes. He held up one finger to his lips before waving it at Nate. ¡°I feel like this, right here? This is why your mem files are gonna be a problem. Wait, hang on, this is why Momo asked me not to make any, isn¡¯t it? Emotional residue? Is¡­ I¡¯m not the misfit, right? Nate, you¡¯d tell me if I was the misfit.¡± JP demanded suddenly. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Nate told him flatly, turning to leave, but pausing at the door. ¡°You do better work when you don¡¯t know. Also, I¡¯m borrowing Myles back to the lair. I¡¯ve got a couple new rogues and I want to get an actual protocol set up for sharing intel. Also get in the habit of doing recon sweeps of cities. Maybe actually be proactive about crossing paths with more weirdness for once.¡± ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± JP waved him off. ¡°Get out and leave me to my work before I have Amy sic the cat on you.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t do it yourself?¡± Nate cocked an eyebrow. ¡°The cat hates me.¡± JP replied without any emotion whatsoever. _____ James stood in the lobby of the Lair, presiding over a growing pile of equipment, and being a part of the problem when it came to his group getting in everyone¡¯s way. Despite the fact that he should be good at this by now, that he¡¯d been on a number of delves that he had actually lost count of, the process of gathering beforehand and making sure you had everything you¡¯d need was still something that he found terrifying. His first handful of delves had been done with almost no prep. He¡¯d jammed what his brain thought of as ¡®adventuring stuff¡¯ in a bag, and just kind of gone, and then ended up in real trouble more than once. Also, it turned out, you basically never actually needed rope in Officium Mundi, or in any other dungeon he¡¯d found so far. Now, the Order had carefully balanced weight charts, custom fitted light armor, an armory both mundane and arcane, and an actual print-off of a checklist for what you should make sure you had before stepping through any Thresholds. And yet still James felt like he was frantically cramming shirts into a backpack the night before a road trip to an anime convention. Not that he had ever done that, of course. He¡¯d done his shirt-cramming at least two days in advance. Which was plenty of time to make it even worse when it turned out he¡¯d forgotten something simple. ¡°Coffee!¡± Alanna announced with aplomb, slamming a cardboard box onto the floor next to James, the thermoses packed in like artillery shells rattling against each other. ¡°The good stuff!¡± She added. ¡°The good stuff for being smart or the good stuff for being quick?¡± James asked. ¡°Quick. Duh.¡± Alanna snapped back to her full height like a snake uncoiling, lading a tiny kiss on James¡¯ cheek as she went. ¡°It¡¯s way more useful - you need to shave, Jesus - more useful for dungeon things.¡± James rubbed at his face. ¡°It¡¯s not that¡­! Okay, fine.¡± He paused. ¡°Shit, am I gonna look like some kind of scruffy wizard drifter when we make contact? I should have thought of this.¡± ¡°Relax, please.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet told James, the camraconda speaking through his skulljack as he gently settled a camraconda manipulator setup onto the floor next to Alanna¡¯s coffee box. The camraconda was one of the last to name themselves, and had, until recently, simply been referred to by title as the elder among the group of nonhumans that the Order had rescued. James liked him. He was almost relentlessly calm, but his blue corded coils held a razor wit that came out of nowhere when he did decide to make jokes. He was also one of their teammates for this endeavor. ¡°Yeah, besides, scruffy wizard is your entire aesthetic.¡± Anesh told James as he returned from whatever he¡¯d been doing. ¡°You can¡¯t show up looking different for your first meeting, that would be like lying.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet nodded in a bobbing motion. ¡°Your appearance is deceptive.¡± He added. ¡°Alright, I¡­¡± James paused, and looked down at his camraconda friend with a squint. ¡°Hang on, is?¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± The camraconda slithered off silently to accomplish some unknown goal, leaving James feeling like he¡¯d been drive-by roasted. ¡°Okay, putting that aside. What are we still waiting on?¡± James asked, looking back at his clipboard for the millionth time. ¡°We¡¯ve got the armor, we¡¯ve got backup food, we¡¯ve got tools¡­ uh¡­ do we have the suspiciously vague line item of ¡®minor magical items¡¯?¡± He asked, looking up, and then sliding to the side as he realized that someone was trying to wheel a cart of lumber through the front lobby and to the elevator. ¡°Sorry!¡± He called after their retreating form as the elevator dinged. ¡°God, why am I so nervous about this?¡± He muttered to himself. Newly arriving from the basement, Momo overheard just enough of his words to answer. ¡°Because you worry constantly?¡± She asked him. ¡°Also I¡¯m ready to go.¡± James glanced over and looked her up and down, sharing a suspicious look with Alanna. ¡°No you¡¯re not?¡± He said plaintively. ¡°You¡¯re wearing a bathrobe.¡± Alanna told her in an exasperated tone. ¡°So unless that¡¯s enchanted, then¡­¡± She trailed off, and then sharply sucked in a breath, at exactly the same time James did. ¡°Enchanted bathrobes!¡± They both exclaimed at the same time, before James dropped his clipboard and they high-fived vigorously. ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m wearing shorts. I can take the bathrobe off.¡± Momo rolled her eyes at them. ¡°Also I¡¯m fucking loaded with totems, so, like, there¡¯s that too. You two are dorks.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James said. ¡°Okay, so, us three,¡± he motioned to his partners, before pointing at Momo, ¡°you, Thought-Of-Quiet, where¡¯s our medic?¡± ¡°Nik?¡± Momo asked, perking up. ¡°No, not Nik.¡± James said. ¡°Wow, you fucking lit up there. Something going on with you two?¡± Momo sputtered and waved her hands in a flail that could be described as dismissively, if it weren¡¯t for how utterly unconvincing it was. ¡°No!¡± She said. ¡°He just has the same kind of cool viewpoint on magic I do, and it¡¯s neat!¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s why he¡¯s not coming.¡± Anesh said slowly. ¡°You both recklessly disregard personal safety when it comes to magic, and we don¡¯t need that twice.¡± Alanna leaned forward onto Momo¡¯s shoulders, smothering the much shorter girl¡¯s head. ¡°We really shouldn¡¯t even be letting you come either, miss ¡®brain damage is fine in small doses¡¯. But James says you promised to be good, and Alex is still out with a broken arm, so you¡¯re who we get.¡± ¡°What, you literally couldn¡¯t find anyone else?¡± Momo pouted, actually kind of hurt. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re high up our list of people we trust on delves.¡± James said, casually restoring that hurt without even realizing. ¡°But seriously, please don¡¯t¡­ you know¡­ give yourself brain damage? I know you¡¯re still doing totem experiments, and we can¡¯t make you stop or anything, but a lot of people here care about you and it would be nice if you could not kill yourself just to prove you¡¯re important.¡± Momo seemed to shrink down under Alanna¡¯s half-hug. ¡°Pffft.¡± She uttered, not sure how to respond to the frank vulnerability James put on display. ¡°Pthfffft!¡± She added. ¡°Sure.¡± James said. ¡°Anyway, medic.¡± ¡°Me!¡± A young woman¡¯s digital voice rang out, as Frequency-Of-Sunlight slithered into the lobby, a bright green scarf covering the more muted colors of the cords of her neck, followed by Thought-Of-Quiet who added another manipulator pack to the first one. ¡°Me, me! I¡¯m the medic!¡± ¡°We¡¯re the medic.¡± Deb said, coming up behind her girlfriend, rolling her shoulder as she joined them. Technically, she was their head doctor, but that was a title she¡¯d been eager to pass on to anyone else as soon as she¡¯d found a way to make a mem file of the majority of her actual college education. She still worked in their medical wing, and was a big part of a lot of their more biologically oriented projects, but Deb had never wanted the responsibility of running an entire makeshift hospital, and so she¡¯d let that go to someone more suited, while she spent more time with her partner. And as she had decided not to limit Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s desire for adventures, if Deb wanted her girlfriend to be safe, she¡¯d just have to tag along and make sure nothing bad happened. ¡°I am also a ¡®we¡¯ that is a medic!¡± The camraconda girl protested. ¡°I have a helper now! She can do the thing!¡± ¡°Sunny, I¡¯m not¡­ we¡¯re not arguing, oh my god!¡± Deb threw her hands up. ¡°There isn¡¯t a problem! I am just also here to help!¡± Anesh leaned closer to James. ¡°This is adorable.¡± He muttered. ¡°I like how their arguments have gotten kind of cute and way less stressful.¡± James replied. ¡°Also neither of them has a medkit, so I¡¯m not checking that off the list.¡± ¡°Karen put it on the table an hour ago, you¡¯re fine.¡± Anesh stage whispered back. James blinked, and looked down at the growing collection of stuff. ¡°Wait, seriously? I though¡­ dammit.¡± He sighed. ¡°I¡¯m so fucking bad at this!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°Aw, you¡¯re fine.¡± Sarah said as she joined them, hopping up onto the building¡¯s front counter to use it as a bench. ¡°Everyone here? I¡¯ve got your little report before you all go off to your first day at dungeon school!¡± ¡°First off, the school dungeon sucks, and hopefully this one will be better.¡± James started ticking points off on his fingers. ¡°Second off, why aren¡¯t you coming with us? Third, we¡¯re waiting for one person. Fourth¡­¡± ¡°Fourth?¡± Alanna prompted. ¡°Uh¡­ Sarah, what¡¯s fourth?¡± ¡°We¡¯re waiting for someone, apparently. I¡¯ll tell you then.¡± Sarah said, giving him a massive grin. ¡°Also, Quiet! Hi! Thermoclese says hi! She wants to hang out when you get back!¡± Momo finally pulled herself out from under Alanna¡¯s perching on her head. ¡°I can¡¯t believe she kept that name.¡± She gave a small laugh. ¡°Why? People name themselves all the time around here.¡± James said, waving a hand across the two camracondas in attendance. ¡°You could rename yourself, too. We¡¯d support it.¡± He told her. ¡°Nah, someone already got Thermoclese. What could I ever come up with that¡¯s cooler than that?¡± The young woman looked around, the half of her haircut that wasn¡¯t shaved down whishing around her head. ¡°Who are we waiting for, anyway?¡± James held up a hand, and started counting down on it. Everyone who was having side conversations or rustling around in the gear pile mostly went quiet watching him as he ticked down from five to zero. And then nothing happened. ¡°Huh. Okay, my timing¡¯s off. But give it a sec-¡° From the hallway behind them, awkwardly following behind a very tired group of one of the Order¡¯s youth groups that an even more tired El was goading forward while she shot pleading looks in James¡¯ direction that he promptly ignored, a tall, roughly humanoid figure wearing an entirely unseasonable baggy black sweatshirt approached their group. ¡°I would like to come along as well.¡± Arrush said, the ratroach¡¯s voice still somewhat raspy and warped from a throat and mouth that weren¡¯t properly shaped for speech, but dramatically more steady and deep from the improvements that had been made to his lungs. The difference that a single purple orb from Officium Mundi could make was often impressive to a human, but when they were applied to ratroaches, the magic seemed capable of annihilating the built-in flaws that the species had with an almost scornful wave of the hand. James lowered his hand. ¡°Alright. Now we¡¯re all here. Sarah?¡± ¡°Woah, wait, hang on.¡± Momo held up her hands in a time-out gesture. ¡°How the hell did you do that?¡± ¡°I¡¯m very powerful.¡± James answered. ¡°So, Sarah?¡± Deb cleared her throat, and raised a hand. ¡°I¡¯m actually also kind of concerned. I know this is an ongoing philosophical debate with the camracondas about the nature of power, but it feels a lot worse to bring a species that is designed to feel pain on an operation that might include violence? Like, are we sure that he¡¯s not here because he feels pressured into it?¡± She thought about that for a second and then added, ¡°That sounds really bad. But I¡¯m still worried.¡± ¡°Oh my god, Arrush, why are you here?¡± James asked directly, turning to the mountain of fur and chitin that was trying not to look like he was looming near them. The ratroach pulled his hood down, fixing James with a stare from his mismatched faceted eyes as his crooked antenna bobbed free. ¡°I enjoy adventure.¡± He said calmly. ¡°See?¡± James said. ¡°He¡¯s perfectly capable of both having a sense of humor, and lying to all of us. That¡¯s basically the only requirements to be a self-actualized person.¡± Momo crossed her arms into the sleeves of her bathrobe. ¡°I still wanna know how you knew he¡¯d be here.¡± ¡°James saw him lingering in the basement working up the courage to ask us, and then heard the elevator ding a second ago.¡± Alanna answered, ruining her boyfriend¡¯s mystique. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know, I¡¯m sorry!¡± She said to James, sounding absolutely not sorry. ¡°But seriously, Arrush, you actually wanna be in on this? We might die.¡± ¡°We might not.¡± The ratroach answered. ¡°And¡­ I¡­ don¡¯t understand myself. But I feel like I should help. And I want to.¡± ¡°We should talk after this.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight spoke up. ¡°I get what you mean.¡± The other camraconda next to James nodded at the ratroach with a sympathetic wide lens on his boxy security camera face. ¡°Okay!¡± Sarah announced. ¡°Everyone is here now! I have something to say, and you¡¯re all gonna listen, because I have stuff to do today and while this is an adorable bonding moment, I actually really have to go in a sec, so everyone hussssssh!¡± With a series of smiles, and one solemn nod from Arrush who still didn¡¯t fully understand Sarah¡¯s personality, they hushed. ¡°Alright!¡± She rubbed her hands together. ¡°Here¡¯s what we know! The library is the Kilgore Memorial Library in Dumas Texas. North part of the state, so¡­ uh¡­ still legally Texas.¡± ¡°What is a Texas?¡± Arrush asked as Sarah paused. ¡°It¡¯s a state.¡± James answered. ¡°We talked about states in the US a couple weeks ago, remember? It¡¯s one of them. Local government, local culture, that kind of thing.¡± ¡°Is it a good state or a bad state?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked. ¡°That¡¯s kind of a complicated question for the scope of this briefing.¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°I mean, there¡¯s a lot of factors for something like that. Economics, social situations. Hell, within states, you can have wildly different attitudes even between cities and rural areas, and-¡° ¡°Bad.¡± Momo interjected. ¡°It¡¯s a bad state.¡± The camraconda tilted her head at the other girl. ¡°Thank you.¡± She said. ¡°The library is in Dumas, Texas.¡± Sarah repeated in a tone that was the most exasperated she ever got. But really, she¡¯d been expecting it with this group of dorks. ¡°Now. The library is a single story building on every map and photo online, so it¡¯s kind of weird that the guy who called us said the dungeon was in the stairwell. Also Charlie and his group confirm the building is bigger than it should be. So be on the lookout for that! Planner will be providing mental screening as you approach.¡± She sighed. ¡°We don¡¯t know much about the dungeon itself. It opens on Wednesday mornings at 3 AM, which is familiar. It drops yellow orbs that give ranks, we think. The kid who found it was pretty shaken up, so information is unreliable. The only creature he encountered was a book that was instantly hostile.¡± ¡°Sorry, a book?¡± Anesh said. ¡°Like¡­ just a book?¡± ¡°Fullllll of teeth!¡± Sarah confirmed. ¡°Watch out for the tongues. Scouts didn¡¯t go in too far or fight, but can confirm that it¡¯s a lot of stacks, and that telepads work to get out. We dunno if there¡¯s time shenanigans going on, but even if there isn¡¯t, you can bail whenever you need to.¡± She looked at all of them. ¡°The kid¡¯s name is Vad, short for Vadik. He¡¯s tentatively agreed to come with you, and he¡¯ll meet you on site. Time difference means you¡¯ll have about two and a half hours if you leave now-ish.¡± She pulled her phone from a pocket and glanced at it. ¡°And that¡¯s literally all we know, and I have to go, have fun storming the library!¡± She hopped off the counter, landing in a crouch, and took the opportunity to share a hug and a ¡°Be careful¡± with Deb before she ducked away and headed for the stairs. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°Everyone feel good about this? Anything we forgot?¡± He asked as he picked up the laden backpack with his portion of gear and slung it over his shoulder. Everyone indicated they were as ready as they were gonna be. Including a surprised Arrush when he was handed his own pre-stocked backpack. ¡°It is time to get to work.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight intoned like a ritual. And in a way, it was. The scarf she was wearing, shifting and rippling as it moved under its own power, the authority that she was bonded to turning a slight ghostly green as it responded to her call. ¡°And time to take a trip.¡± James said, in the same cadence. And felt a sensation like a sunny breeze touch him as the navigator that he shared his headspace with also began to manifest. A soft orange touch to the light around him as an ethereal feathered limb uncoiled from around his back. A voice whispered in his mind, that until recently he normally only heard in dreams. ¡°Are we going now?¡± It asked. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± James grinned, reaching out to join hands with everyone in a circle as Anesh double and triple checked the address written on their brand new, fully stocked telepad. ¡°We¡¯re taking the easy way though.¡± ¡°Sad!¡± The navigator chastised him. ¡°But we will see a new place. And we will explore. And I will help.¡± ¡°And we¡¯ll have an adventure.¡± James told it with a smile. ¡°Now, hold on tight.¡± The feathered tail wrapped itself around his leg at his urging, as Anesh looked around at everyone, made sure they were all ready, and with one last check to make sure he wasn¡¯t about to banish them to the middle of the Pacific Ocean or something, ripped the page out of the telepad. Their team vanished in a snap of air. And an instant later, arrived in a library that was a bit too big, ready for almost anything. Chapter 200 ¡°All the world will be your enemy, prince with a thousand enemies. And whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first¡­ they have to catch you.¡± -Richard Adams, Watership Down- _____ Over the last few years of his life, James had ended up in a lot of weird places. And not even dungeon-weird, either. Just the simple real world oddity of spaces that were strangely designed, or became unsettling when you were in them under unusual circumstances. Like, for example, this library. It was a library. It wasn¡¯t exactly a great library, but it was hitting all the library requirements. It had an open entryway with a few computers that would normally have the card catalogue search up on them. It had aisles of books in slightly sloped uniform beige metal shelves. It had a checkout counter, complete with those cool self checkout barcode scanners that were awful in grocery stores but really cool in libraries because libraries were just generally cooler than grocery stores. And yet, despite the presence of what he mentally described as ¡®a bunch of library things¡¯, James still felt out of place here. And it wasn¡¯t hard to diagnose why; it was two AM here in northern Texas, and despite the fact that they were all waiting on the second floor of a perfectly normal library along with the guy who had brought the dungeon to their attention, it was still a perfectly normal library at two AM. Also it wasn¡¯t a normal library, as evidenced by the fact that they were on the second floor. From what the Order - and Planner specifically - could tell, it was just a simple masking memeplex. If you were in the building, of course there were two floors. If you weren¡¯t, then there weren¡¯t. Geographically earthed information blackout. It wouldn¡¯t even complicate their attempt to explore here that much if they hadn¡¯t had a rather strong assignment backing them up, it seemed like it was just a weak veil put up to make it hard for people to talk about their experiences once they left. ¡°So, you do this professionally?¡± Vad was nervously asking James. They were actually the same age, which was kind of weird and made James feel weirdly self-conscious. Because he could easily see himself being the kind of person that would be uncomfortable when a well equipped and battle hardened team that was only mostly human teleported into the empty lot near his job. ¡°Sorta.¡± James said, trying to be casual in his answer. ¡°I mean, yes, really. The Order¡¯s resources basically all come from dungeons like this one, in some way. But if you asked me if delving was my job, I¡¯d probably say no?¡± Looking up from where she was sitting on the floor and trying to teach Arrush how to play a card game, Alanna shot a line over at their conversation. ¡°Dude, we have a ton of normal resources! What about JP¡¯s stock portfolio thing?¡± James sheepishly bit his lip. ¡°Oooh, he actually sold off pretty much all of that. As it turns out, being good at investing doesn¡¯t mean you can see the future, so he lost a bunch of money and decided to cut our losses, since we¡¯re focusing on alternate revenue streams anyway.¡± ¡°Is that¡­ isn¡¯t that the thing from Leverage?¡± Vad asked. ¡°Oh, fuck, it is!¡± James perked up. ¡°Man, I loved that show. We should do some heists sometime.¡± Vad stared at James, the other man leaning casually on the edge of the table that Vad had taken a chair around, and wondered what the hell was happening with his life today. ¡°You just seem¡­ really casual about all this.¡± He waved his hand around. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you¡­¡± ¡°Nervous?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked from under the table where she was reading a comic book, her authority turning the pages for her. Vad didn¡¯t exactly jump, but he did shift slightly in a way that made it clear that he¡¯d forgotten there was a giant snake-esque creature near his legs, and that he wasn¡¯t totally comfortable with that. ¡°Yes?¡± He asked. ¡°Of course I¡¯m nervous! Aren¡¯t you? Why aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Oh, sure.¡± James answered with a shrug. ¡°We¡¯re all probably at least a little nervous. Except Momo, but Momo has a different outlook on stuff like this. But¡­ can¡¯t you feel it?¡± He cracked a toothy grin. ¡°Feel¡­ what?¡± Vadik asked, suspiciously. ¡°In a little under an hour, you get to see a world that isn¡¯t the one you¡¯ve been living in this whole time.¡± Anesh spoke softly from the end of the table, setting down the expendable smartphone he¡¯d brought along to record with. ¡°One where the rules of life and landscape are different. Where who, or what, you are might change and grow in ways you never considered.¡± He met James¡¯ smiling eyes. ¡°Where you can find a piece of magic.¡± Vad raised his hand slowly, and then pointed at his freshly scarred arm with his other hand. ¡°The last time I was in there I almost died?¡± He asked in a voice that caught James so off guard he almost burst out laughing right then. ¡°But you didn¡¯t.¡± Arrush said from the floor. ¡°Talking breaks the rules. Draw a card.¡± Alanna told him. James narrowed his eyes at them. ¡°Wait, hang on, you talked a second ago. Wait, I recognize this, this was the game the kids in Townton inflicted on me! Why are you tormenting poor Arrush?¡± ¡°We¡¯re bored!¡± Alanna told him. ¡°We have a whole hour to fill!¡± Arrush moved hesitantly, the ratroach raising one of his smaller arms in a motion that felt like it wasn¡¯t even close to being an organic reflex. But he still leaned forward slightly to tap Alanna on the shoulder. ¡°Talking. Card.¡± He said nervously. Alanna looked down at her hand of cards, then gave James a ¡®see what you did?¡¯ kind of look, before dramatically pulling another playing card off the deck. ¡°How did you get into this anyway?¡± Vad asked, trying to hide that he was staring at Arrush. ¡°Same way you did.¡± James said, then held up his hands when Vad gave him an incredulous look. ¡°I¡¯m actually literally serious!¡± He protested. ¡°I was at work late, and found a stairwell that went to a dungeon! It kind of escalated from there, if I¡¯m being honest. And now we¡¯re here.¡± ¡°Collecting superpowers?¡± Vad asked. James snapped his fingers. ¡°Exactly.¡± He answered in all seriousness. ¡°Though probably in a less selfish way than you mean. We¡¯re sort of setting up a lot of different pipelines, to turn dungeon nonsense into actual help for people.¡± ¡°People and aliens, apparently. Or, like, mutants?¡± Vad added. From under a different table, where she was reading a different comic book, Momo made a threatening noise. Anesh and Alanna also made hesitant sounds. Heading off any of them before they could start talking, James jumped in. ¡°Okay, first off, everyone here is from this planet.¡± He said. ¡°Dungeons are still on Earth, we think. Also it doesn¡¯t matter. They¡¯re still people, so be kind.¡± He didn¡¯t phrase it as a request. ¡°Sorry! I think it¡¯s cool, I just don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on or what¡¯s real anymore!¡± Vad burst out. ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to be a jackass!¡± ¡°I am from a dungeon.¡± Arrush hissed out. ¡°It was not a nice one. I like this place better, it smells nice.¡± ¡°So, you aren¡¯t, like, a human that got too many of those orb things?¡± Vad asked. ¡°Actually, wait, do all dungeons have orb things?¡± ¡°Only two so far!¡± James informed him with a refreshed smile. ¡°Kinda weird coincidence actually.¡± Arrush set his hand of cards down, conceding the game. ¡°Also every orb I have been gifted has made me better.¡± He said in rough Spanish, switching languages without realizing. ¡°How many¡­ are there?¡± Vad asked quietly. ¡°Dungeons?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Several.¡± James said quietly. ¡°Some of them are nice.¡± He sighed, looking down at his phone. ¡°Also we still have¡­ forty minutes? Jesus. Alanna, deal me into this stupid game. I need a distraction. We should have cut this closer, I could have taken a nap or something.¡± ¡°You can nap on the chairs here.¡± Vad said, tone instantly changing to that of someone with a casual comfortable knowledge of a space. He had more questions, of course. But James left them for the people who didn¡¯t get in on their chaotic mess of a card game to answer. He wasn¡¯t allowed to talk. Thirty six minutes later, the delver team assembled outside the door. They¡¯d already gotten their armor on, their bags adjusted to comfort. They¡¯d even, through the magic of Karen¡¯s spreadsheets, remembered an extra set of their light armor for Vad, who looked thoroughly out of place in it. James had asked more than a few times if he was sure he wanted to come along, until eventually his interrogation subject had just snapped that he was more curious than he was nervous, which was basically the best possible answer a new delver could have. Deb was near their back rank, fussing with Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s armature pack while in front of them,Momo was basically vibrating like a piece of industrial machinery waiting to get in. Thought-Of-Quiet was covering their other side, looking almost like a statue the camraconda was sitting so still. In contrast, Arrush was repeatedly checking the several pistols he had in the five different sidearm holsters strapped around his body, each one positioned in a different spot for one of his arms. James and Alanna were just leaning on each other, while Anesh was making sure everyone¡¯s cameras were recording. ¡°Do I get a gun?¡± Vad asked. ¡°No, because we¡¯re not going to shoot anything anyway.¡± James said. ¡°Everyone ready?¡± He got nods and affirmations. ¡°Okay. Remember, this is a library. So let¡¯s keep noise to a minimum, just to be safe. Vad, as our resident discoverer, I leave it to you to open the door. Your call whether or not you open it slightly early to fake us out.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not even a tiny bit worried I made this all up, or I¡¯m crazy or something?¡± He asked James. Everyone shared glances that ranged from incredulous to amused. When James answered, it was with a voice that was obviously trying not to crack from laughter. ¡°It¡¯s pretty much just easier to assume everything is real, honestly. Anyway. Time in three¡­ two¡­ one¡­¡± Breaking with a tradition he wasn¡¯t really aware of, Vad just opened the door right on time. And, while they hadn¡¯t exactly practiced with this particular group, the team filtered in from both sides, fanning out in a relatively organized vanguard around the entrance like they¡¯d drilled dozens of times each. If the library out in the waking world was strange at 2 AM, with shadows in the backs of the aisles and the sound of the overtaxed AC system grinding outside the building, then this library was truly alien. Within ten feet of the door, they were greeted by shelving units, the hallways of books stretching away from them in straight lines. But the shelves were off-colored, their endcap signs reading nonsense symbols. The shelves also rose to the ceiling, twenty feet up, and as James glanced up at where the shelf and the structure met, he got the impression that the shelves just went right through without stopping. The place was brightly lit somewhere, and that bright light filtered through gaps in the books and from around corners, casting them in a twilight gloom where sight wasn¡¯t impossible, but the whole world felt like it was one big shadow. The beams and patches of distant light were in a range of tones; to his left there was a lopsided square of sunshine painting the carpet, while down the aisle in front of him James saw more familiar fluorescent white beams catching the dust in the air. It wasn¡¯t clear where any of the light was coming from; the sunlight to his left couldn¡¯t be from around the corner, there was just more shelves there, but there also wasn¡¯t a window nearby at all. This outer edge, seemingly at the back of the shelves, stretched for hundreds of feet in either direction. The floor under his boots was cracked stonework, black lines of old breaks having been polished down again and again until they simply became part of the floor. Or at least, that¡¯s what would have happened if it had occurred naturally in a used building. Here, it could mean anything, the pale pink and white stone might just have been made that way. Along with the thin coating of dust that they stirred up as they entered. In the distance, a growl sounds, low and threatening. As it does, a cold breeze whisks through the library, rustling pages and stirring up some dust. The growl doesn¡¯t stop, and James snorts as he realizes it¡¯s what the air conditioning here sounds like. Either that, or there¡¯s a distant wolf the size of a skyscraper that keeps the air from stagnating or something. ¡°Aisles are pretty cramped.¡± Alanna muttered in a low tone, loud enough for everyone to hear, but not loud enough to carry. ¡°Split?¡± ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s take these two. Vad, how deep in were you when you got attacked?¡± ¡°First row.¡± The young man whispered, nervously hanging back in the middle of their formation. James nodded. ¡°Okay. Everyone be alert.¡± He paused, and almost made a joke about how pointless that was to say in a new environment like this. Of course everyone was already alert. But Arrush still gave a considering nod as the ratroach moved forward to peer down one of the rows of shelves. The rows weren¡¯t especially wide, even if they did reach up well over everyone¡¯s heads, looming above like uncomfortable cliffs. Cliffs filled with books that might be alive. And, as Sarah had reminded them before they left, absolutely full of teeth. James crept forward, taking the lead on his row and letting Thought-Of-Quiet, Arrush, and Momo fall in behind him, with Vad bringing up the rear. He was watching the books around them, partially waiting to be attacked by something in a sudden ambush, but also just appreciating the sheer variety of tomes that this place had stocked itself with. Hardcover and paperbacks, some of them brand new, others covered in cracked and crumbling plastic laminate. Some heavy texts bound in leather, or sheafs of assorted papers tied together with a barcode stamped onto the edge of them like a warding sigil. But the books that looked like they were misplaced from another era were sparse compared to the sheer volume of simple rectangles of bound paper, in a riot of colors and shapes around them. He tilted his head to read a few titles, and wasn¡¯t disappointed. The Anatomy of Chairs (Second Printing). Bus Death. Poems And Other Poems, by¡­ the author names were all blank. Interesting. Not just blank, actually, but destroyed. Every part of the books around them that should have borne a byline was scratched or torn away, leaving only a gap in the text. They proceeded slowly, everyone still keeping their eyes peeled. They could see the end of the row of shelves, and in theory James knew the other half of their group was just on the other side of the shelf to their right, but the books were packed so thick there wasn¡¯t any visibility, only the thin lines of light cast from overhead that brought small illumination to their path. Light that couldn¡¯t possibly be coming from anywhere. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Is that creeping anyone else out?¡± Momo whispered, drawing a flinch from James. ¡°What?¡± He spoke in a low voice, pointedly not whispering, not wanting it to carry too far. ¡°The humming?¡± Momo asked. James froze, straining his ears. ¡°I don¡¯t hear any humming.¡± He said. ¡°Anyone?¡± He glanced at his group. Arrush and Vad both shook their heads, but the camraconda with them gave a slow nod. ¡°It is a kind song.¡± Though-Of-Quiet spoke in a low volume digital voice. ¡°That way.¡± He pointed with one of his motorized arms toward the end of the row they were halfway toward. James sighed, and looked down toward the end of the row, past the ladder leaning against one shelf, and the rolling plastic stepstool, to where he could see out into an open floor area, centered around a table with a pyramid of books on it, beams of light from directly overhead casting sharp shadows on the scene. ¡°Well, nothing seems-¡° If James had been new as a delver, he might have not realized that setting himself up like that would be a bad idea. But he wasn¡¯t new, and even as he started to say something that would tempt fate, he had already spotted the grey covered book to his right that had opened a fleshy eye along its spine and was watching him. When it lashed out with a bookmark tongue that moved like a prehensile whip, James was already moving, his enhanced agility letting him flinch back just enough that the dry flesh rope missed his face, grab it, and yank the book off the shelf. He¡¯d completed the motion before Vad let out a startled yelp that cut through the muffled quiet around them. The book in question immediately opened up into a cracked maw of triangular teeth, writhing and twisting in his grasp, trying to get closer enough to his leg to start sawing into his flesh. ¡°Stop.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said softly, and the book froze. ¡°Jesus, those things are freaky.¡± Momo said, pushing past Arrush to kneel down and look at it up close. ¡°Look, the teeth aren¡¯t even paper, they¡¯re just¡­ uh¡­ teeth stuff.¡± ¡°Bone.¡± Arrush told her. ¡°Teeth aren¡¯t bone.¡± James and Vad said at the same time, the lead delver shooting the other explorer a smile. ¡°So, want to see if we can make friends with¡­¡± James trailed off as, around them, ten more books opened their eyes and focused on the group. ¡°Ah.¡± He said simply. ¡°Fuck!¡± Momo said, more passionately. Thought-Of-Quiet unfroze the book James was holding, while he swept his feet in a pitcher¡¯s stance and flung it by its tongue down toward the end of the shelves, the camraconda pivoting to lock onto another one of the creatures. Two more flung themselves off their hiding spots among the other books, causing a shift in the paperbacks as they tilted to fill the gap, tiny paperclip legs propelling the toothy tomes toward the group. James punched one out of the air, bringing it down to within stomping range, and planting an experienced boot on its spine. Momo flicked a finger at the other, calling up the blue power she had right now to melt paper and turning most of its body into cold goo. The momentum carried it forward to splash against her arm, teeth and other pieces clattering off her to stick in the puddle that splattered down to the floor. When the rest of the books started to move all at once, Arrush started grabbing them out of the air with his arms, thick chitinous fingers ignoring the teeth, even as they did saw into him in bleeding lines. The first one, he was almost confused what to do now that he¡¯d caught it; then he watched James duck a book and pin it against a shelf, pulling back the cover to snap the spine, and he started doing the same maneuver to the ones he was grabbing. Vad yelled in panic as one went for him, even when Momo silently melted it before it got to his face, leaving him covered in melted book. Thought-Of-Quiet just lashed his vision back and forth, stuttering the attack patterns of any book that started to move, and letting the others clean up their attackers. The camraconda knew the arms he was wearing had a limit, so he held back and did what he was good at; being a problem for anything that wanted to harm the people around him. When the second wave of books started snarling around them, it got a little more hectic. Arrush found himself standing between Vad and the aggressive tongues of the new set of hungry paperbacks, slapping them away or at one point even biting through one, letting his corrosive saliva burn the bookmark tongue in a way that left the creature making a rattling wail. None of them drew their guns, though James and Arrush both unclipped the hatchets from their belts and used them to batter books out of the air or bite into them when they tried to scramble for feet or climb the shelves to leap again. The only injury came when James stepped the heel of his boot in one of the puddles of book that Momo had melted, and slipped sideways, thudding his shoulder into the metal bar dividing two sets of shelves before he toppled sideways onto the floor. But by then, there was nothing left alive around them to take advantage of his slip. ¡°Ooooow.¡± He wheezed out, the air knocked out of his lungs. ¡°Okay, we may have to rethink you liquefying things as a strategy.¡± He told Momo as he shifted so he wasn¡¯t crushing everything in his backpack, rolling to his hands and knees so he could stand. The motion brought him face to face with the footstool. It was, James realized, probably something he should have paid more attention to. A hard black plastic step, with a circular top that would make it easy to sit on if you needed to restock a lower shelf. They were a fixture in every library he¡¯d ever been in. Little wheeled tools that were easy for people to move around and make use of. This one didn¡¯t have wheels. It had a bunch of thick curved claws that ended in blunted tips, and what looked like glowing black points for eyes that shone clearly even in the similarly dark shadows underneath the shell of plastic. James stared at it. It stared back. ¡°Sorry to bother you?¡± He said politely. Slowly, the creature retracted itself back under the stepstool it was hiding underneath. ¡°What was that?¡± Arrush asked patiently, staring at the thing that was barely a foot from James¡¯ face as James pushed himself off the floor and stood up. ¡°Someone taking a nap.¡± James answered. ¡°Okay. Standard loot sweep, then let¡¯s keep moving so we can meet up with the others. Avoid the seat.¡± He pointed out the crablike creature to everyone just in case. ¡°I like this place.¡± Momo grinned wildly as she started going through the remains of the books around them, grabbing up all the yellow orbs. ¡°Hey, are we using any of these?¡± She asked. ¡°No.¡± James told her. ¡°Vad can have his share, if he wants, but we¡¯re gonna copy the rest at least once. Just¡­ you know, because. We¡¯re trying to be less¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Less us.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet answered. ¡°But in a growth way, and not a death way.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°Sure, that sounds terrifying, I like it.¡± ¡°What just happened?!¡± Vad whisper-shouted, cutting them off. ¡°An almost flawless victory, before I fell on my ass.¡± James complained. ¡°Or, do you mean, why aren¡¯t we dead?¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not actually a superpower thing. It¡¯s that at a certain point, you can get used to dealing with the small creatures dungeons tend to put as their opening fights. Uh¡­ you don¡¯t specifically have to fight them, to be clear. I¡¯m friends with a stapler. But these guys seemed pretty relentlessly murderous, so that¡¯s¡­ depressing.¡± He sighed. ¡°Also we do all have a bunch of little tricks and augmentations. Or we¡¯re just Arrush who decided grabbing things with teeth was a good idea.¡± James folded his arms at the ratroach as Momo finished snagging all the dropped yellow orbs. They were even the same color as the ones from Officium Mundi, which James was sure wouldn¡¯t ever be a problem. He stepped forward, kicking away the flattened and folded false paper of one of the dead books as he aimed to lead them to skirt around the crab thing. And as he did so, he felt something pop under his foot. {+1 Species Rank : Hedgehog - Four Toed} James sighed deeply. ¡°Dammit.¡± He muttered mostly to himself. ¡°Are you well?¡± Thought-Of-Quiet asked. ¡°Stepped on an orb. Doesn¡¯t actually¡­ feel different. Vad, I actually forgot to ask, do you know what these do?¡± ¡°I¡­ no. No idea.¡± ¡°Alright. Well, let¡¯s get out of these shelves, just in case there¡¯s more books lying in wait.¡± James said, pushing onward and deciding to deal with it later. The others followed behind him, everyone carefully sliding around the hiding crab creature that seemed content to let them be. They made it down the last fifty feet of shelves and to the end without any further incident Alanna was tapping her foot as they emerged, the other group having been waiting for them. ¡°Took you a while.¡± She said. ¡°Yeah, got lost in a book.¡± James said. ¡°No.¡± Anesh cut him off with a stifled grin. ¡°No book puns today. Book puns tomorrow.¡± Letting out a groan of acceptance, James looked around the small open area here at the end of the shelves. It wasn¡¯t small. It looked small, when they were approaching, but now that he was here, it was huge. A cavernous space - literally cavernous, the shelves that surrounded them curved together in places and gave it a den-like feeling - of a few hundred feet of cracked slate floor. That table was still in the middle, with a host of displayed books on it forming a pyramid. They all appeared to be copies of the same thing, but James couldn¡¯t make out the title without approaching, and he was wary to do that just yet. To their right, as they emerged from the shelves, there was a circular desk, dotted with what looked like computers from the early 90s, underneath a hanging sign. The sign was a wooden rectangle suspended by a pair of copper chains from the shelves that curved overhead, and read, ¡°AASITISTI¡±. James was also hesitant to check that out. It felt intimidating. And all around the oval of open floor, more shelves. Row after row of them, densely packed, like the aisle they¡¯d come down they held just enough room for two people side by side if they were really comfortable with each other. Many of the shelves were parallel to each other, but they radiated out from this space, and the ones that should naturally widen as they got farther away seemed just as cramped. What little they could see down them, anyway. There was a staircase to James¡¯ left. And a thin hallway around its rectangular profile, before the library reasserted its shelf-based dominance and cut off any accessibility. The stairs went down, worn wooden railings and a runner of carpet giving a warmth to it. That was something that was striking James about this place. It did feel warm. Not in temperature, but in mood. ¡°Does anyone else get the vibe that this place is kinda cozy?¡± He asked. Vad looked at him like he¡¯d lost his goddamn mind, while Arrush just tilted his head like the big ratroach was considering it. It was Deb who surprised him by answering first, though. ¡°It¡¯s so familiar.¡± She muttered, hand idly resting on Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s head. ¡°Like I¡¯m back in college. Or coming home. Do you hear humming?¡± ¡°It¡¯s coming from downstairs.¡± Momo confirmed. Alanna casually interposed herself between them and the stairs. ¡°Hol¡¯ up.¡± The armored woman said, holding out a hand. ¡°Because if you¡¯re being hypnotized, that¡¯s gonna be a no from me.¡± ¡°I should tell you I hear it too.¡± Anesh said softly. ¡°But I don¡¯t feel any particular compulsion. It¡¯s just humming.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°If the scout team is right on the time dilation, we have maybe two hours of safe exploration here, and I actually don¡¯t want to test teleporting out when the door¡¯s closed. So let¡¯s make sure this landing is safe enough, and then stage from here. We can check out the humming, and more of the shelves, and then leave before we push too far.¡± He started pointing at different things. ¡°Vad, Arrush, Quiet, you¡¯re with me, we¡¯ll go look at the info desk. Alanna, Momo, Sunny, see what¡¯s up with that display.¡± He made sure there was a camraconda in each group that would be poking something that might be hostile. ¡°Everyone else, check out the stairs, but don¡¯t go down, just take a look, and then see what the border of this place is like.¡± He paused. ¡°I¡¯m sorta getting the impression this one is a little more dangerous than we¡¯re used to with the Office. So stay alert, and if we need to pull back, we don¡¯t hesitate to run, got it?¡± They got it. And they moved with reassuring confidence that James felt good about as he took point on approaching the help desk. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that when he¡¯d first gone into Officium Mundi, he¡¯d done it alone and basically unarmed. And he¡¯d been lucky to get out with a skill point and a few ultimately minor injuries. Now, he¡¯d brought a team of seasoned delvers into the near entrance of a dungeon that didn¡¯t seem to be too murderous. And that just wasn¡¯t fair. But it sure was effective. The desk was a soft, pale wood. Sanded down, yes, but with a century¡¯s worth of nicks and divots from overeager pen presses. There were a few misaligned stacks of books sitting on it, in between plastic trays holding paperwork templates for services that didn¡¯t exist. There didn¡¯t seem to be a gap in the desk to get into the inside. ¡°Do we just jump over?¡± Vad whispered. ¡°No.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said. ¡°I cannot jump. You jump, and carry me.¡± ¡°How much do you weight?¡± Vad asked seemingly on reflex. And even though the answer was ¡®a couple hundred pounds¡¯, he still gave a considered nod and bravely stated, ¡°I could probably carry you, sure.¡± James smirked as the new guy started to come out of his shell. ¡°We don¡¯t jump over yet, we check stuff first. As much as we can, really.¡± He reached out and tried to spin around one of the beige cube computer monitors, but froze as two of Arrush¡¯s hands slapped down on the stack of books, pinning the one in the middle that had started to bare its teeth. ¡°Wow, I got complacent in record time. Fuck, thanks.¡± He breathed out a tense breath as he looked up at the ratroach. ¡°Always.¡± Arrush said in a soft hiss, casually drawing a knife and spiking it into the book he was holding down with one of his extra arms, drops of ink spraying onto the desk as he clinically butchered the trapped creature. James moved slower this time, lightly tapping the computer before he pulled it around, making sure nothing was moving as he checked it. The beige box wasn¡¯t, he realized, actually plugged into anything. It was just a freestanding cube, on top of another flat beige rectangle, with a very dense beige keyboard sitting in front of it. It was no model he¡¯d ever seen, but it felt achingly familiar for a time that never was. The screen was actually on, too, even though it wasn¡¯t plugged in. A flickering white lit display with boxy black text. ¡®Waiting¡¯ it read, and then what looked like a prompt. ¡°Huh.¡± James said, slowly moving himself over the desk to see if he could reach the keyboard without being ambushed, before realizing he had no starting point to solve this particular puzzle. So, leaving that for a more thorough search later, he and the others started circling the desk. Arrush and Thought-Of-Quiet kept watch around them while James and Vad examined the various objects. Partially to just explore, but also to see if there was going to be an ongoing risk of being attacked by a collection of animate pens while in here, and have at least a little early warning. The thing that almost got a full booming laugh out of James when he realized what he was looking at, were the photos. The desk was obviously not a cold and impersonal place; even if it was artificial, it was meant to look like someone used this space. And so there were thin copper picture frames, complete with slightly faded photographs in them. They even had what looked like humans in them. But different humans in every one, no real connection between them. Except that every photo had the same leather bound book sitting in the center of the shot, or being held by one of the humans. James was about to share his silly discovery when, from a few feet ahead, Vad let out a worried ¡°Um¡­!¡± that had James taking two swift steps to close the distance between them. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± He asked. Vad pointed down at the desk, stepping back reflexively and keeping his hands away from the surface. ¡°I moved the desk lamp, and¡­¡± James followed where he was pointing, and in the shadowy ambient light, saw what looked like a black ring of scribbles on the desk. No, that wasn¡¯t quite right; they did look like something written, but it wasn¡¯t just scribbles, it was more deliberate than that. And they were moving, circling around like a snake eating its own tail. Slowly, yes, but not so slowly you couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°It hasn¡¯t moved or anything?¡± He asked. ¡°No, that¡¯s where I found it. It¡¯s Greek, I think.¡± Vad said. That got a double take from James. ¡°You read Greek?¡± He asked. Vad shrugged sheepishly. ¡°I had to fill course credit somehow.¡± He said, almost defensively. ¡°What¡¯s it say?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ it¡¯s¡­ I mean, it¡¯s ¡®tongue¡¯, I think? Just repeated a few times. Why is it movinaaah!¡± Vad¡¯s shout of surprise was understandable, as the moment he¡¯d translated the word, the text had started moving rapidly, inky letters shooting off the wood table with no trace left and angling to press themselves into the skin of his hand. His shout also drew attention from everyone else, and after a brief scuffle with a set of books on nearby shelves that decided they wanted to investigate the noise, the others all came rushing as well. ¡°Hold out your hand.¡± James ordered him sternly as Alanna and Anesh came running up behind him. Vad complied, and James grabbed his arm, seeing that the repeated words had stopped at the top of his palm, and while they were still rotating, they weren¡¯t moving any farther. ¡°Can you still feel this?¡± He poked at Vad¡¯s fingers and palm. ¡°Yes!¡± Vad¡¯s voice contained panic. ¡°Is this going to poison me?¡± ¡°Quieter please.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said as she slipped up behind them, eye scanning around the shelves. ¡°Also probably not.¡± James said. ¡°What¡­¡± ¡°Wait.¡± Vad said suddenly, pulling his hand back and holding it up. ¡°I just¡­ it told me something.¡± ¡°The scrawl?¡± James asked quickly. ¡°No, like¡­ like when I broke the orb the first time.¡± Vad explained, struggling to breathe easily as his adrenaline drained away and left him with a bitter taste and shaking muscles. ¡°It just said the word, and then ¡®three uses¡¯, and that was it. What does that¡­ I mean¡­ what is it doing?¡± James relaxed. ¡°Okay.¡± He sighed. ¡°False alarm everyone. Dungeon power. Be on the lookout for moving words. How¡¯s everything else look?¡± ¡°The display is actually just a pyramid of normal books, so if books titled How But Then For Is How are your jam, then there¡¯s apparently a guest speaker for them sometime next year.¡± Momo told him. ¡°Nothing hostile about it. We were sorting through them, but it doesn¡¯t look like there¡¯s anything buried in there either. I¡¯m kinda weirded out by the fact that the non-language in the books apparently looks different to all of us?¡± She said. ¡°Sunny and I hooked our brains up to check; the text is different for us.¡± ¡°Downstairs is just another landing like this one.¡± Deb reported. ¡°The humming is definitely coming from down there. James took a deep breath. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Quick break. Then we¡¯ll figure out our next move.¡± Chapter 201 ¡°I am going to show you how to kill your landlord.¡± -Omicron, ELDRITCH VOIDTUBER VIRIDIAN S. LAUGHTER HUNTING BLOOD-STREAM- _____ In the open air above the clear space within the library, an optical illusion took place. Well, it wasn¡¯t much of an illusion. Arrush stared up at where the shelves began to bend and coil, until their edges started to connect in ways that were clearly meant to be evocative of a glass dome. On a well honed reflex, he held the back of one of his gloved paws to the corner of his mouth, stopping the drip of corrosive saliva as he looked up. Arrush had seen quite a few images of human architecture over the last couple of months. He hadn¡¯t visited anything truly impressive yet, mostly because he had a perfectly reasonable terror of being exposed to a large pack of humans. The Order accepted him almost without thinking. But he had seen and heard how some of the younger ones reacted when they saw himself or his partner. He had observed the attitudes of certain humans through their own media. And he did not think he could visit a cathedral without being attacked and killed. But that did not stop his interest. And as he looked up here, in the library, he could see what it was trying to do. There was a light coming down from the central ring of the shelves that built the dome, one of the ones that was a poor emulation of the true sun. And there were black lines in the air between here and there, meant to look like iron crossbars, keeping the skylight up. Arrush¡¯s eyes were not well suited to appreciating optical illusions. He¡¯d learned it after several evenings of confusion at an image of straight lines, before cautiously asking his kendo teacher about it, and having Karen point out that the lines made it seem as though the pillars were solid in both perspectives. His eyes were mismatched, out of alignment. All five of them providing something that Deb said was ¡®close enough to stereoscopic¡¯, but clearly, did not let him see tricks like humans did. Or, if he wanted to be kind to himself, that let him see through tricks; past them like they weren¡¯t real. The only question he had was, why was the library pretending it had a skylight in the first place? ¡°Hey, can I ask you a question?¡± A new voice said to his side. Arrush didn¡¯t start or jump, he simply turned his head down, lowering his paw and focusing on Vad, the new human looking at him with that expression humans used when the felt upset. Arrush almost told him he already had asked a question, but his burgeoning sense of humor was still overshadowed by his wariness around new people. Or old people. Or people. So instead, he simply nodded. Vad nodded, and took a deep breath, before shuffling closer and leaning in, looking around for any of the other delvers before he spoke. ¡°You¡¯re not, like, trapped, are you?¡± Arrush blinked. ¡°What?¡± He said, before thinking about it. That was also novel; he could speak on reflex, his growing lungs supporting better and better speech. ¡°A prisoner, or a slave.¡± Vad failed to clarify. ¡°Something like that. It¡¯s just¡­ you have a look about you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t know what that means.¡± Arrush said, taken off guard. ¡°I am here because I want to be.¡± Vad frowned, the look strangely focused on a face that Arrush had mostly seen today panicking at small non-threats. ¡°Really?¡± He said, firmly, before his eyes widened slightly and he looked around to make sure no one was listening in. But the others on the delve team were making sure the area around the stairs were clear before the descent, and the two of them had a moment of quiet. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s true.¡± Vad said, whispering. ¡°Yes. I am lying.¡± Arrush said with a wet hiss. ¡°Am not a prisoner, though.¡± The human looked like he was planning to say something else, which was when James swept in and saved Arrush again, albeit in a much less dramatic way than the first time. ¡°Yo. Making friends?¡± He asked, voice casual. ¡°Yep!¡± Vad said quickly, at the same time Arrush said a low and rumbling ¡°No.¡± James raised his eyebrows and turned to the ratroach with an unspoken question. ¡°He thinks I am your slave.¡± He explained to James. While Vad gasped and tried to think of something to cover for what he¡¯d been saying, James just nodded thoughtfully. ¡°I mean, we¡¯ve been over this. You did literally tell me I owned you shortly after we first spoke. I vaguely remember that. Wait, am I remembering that, or is that mixed up with a camraconda thing?¡± ¡°That happened.¡± Arrush said, a ghost of a fanged grin cracking his maw open in a blue glowing line. ¡°You were upset.¡± ¡°Good times.¡± James said in wistful bitterness. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯re gonna head downstairs, check out the humming. Which I still cannot hear, so, weird! You want to come, or do you want to keep watch up here?¡± ¡°I will wait. Hunt books.¡± Arrush said. James nodded slowly. ¡°Alright, but remember to-¡° ¡°Give them a chance, yes.¡± Arrush said. ¡°I¡­ know¡­ how personally important. That is.¡± He took slow deep breaths, chitin on his chest creaking as he tried to replenish the oxygen he¡¯d used on talking. ¡°Um¡­¡± Vad looked between the two of them. ¡°You¡¯re not mad or anything?¡± ¡°What, that you accused me of being a slaver?¡± James said. ¡°I mean, you opened by cautiously asking questions and not trying to shoot me, so you¡¯re not even close to the biggest asshole I¡¯ve been on a dungeon delve with. Also you¡¯re not an asshole, you¡¯re looking out for someone you met an hour ago, even if they scare you by being a different species. I¡¯m the opposite of mad. Wanna go check out the humming? There might be something cool.¡± ¡°¡­everything here has tried to kill us.¡± ¡°I mean, not everything. The scrawl seems fine.¡± James told him. ¡°Figured out how to use that yet, by the way?¡± Vad looked down at the living writing on his hand. ¡°Not a clue. It¡¯s an awesome tattoo, if nothing else, though.¡± ¡°There it is.¡± James said with a grin, before patting Arrush¡¯s arm fondly with one of his gloved hands, and turning to head back to the group that was preparing to split off and explore down a level. ¡°There what is?¡± Vad asked, confused, turning to look at the ratroach he was standing next to with a bewildered expression. ¡°There what is?¡± He repeated. Arrush just hummed lightly in response, tired of overtaxing his throat. Meanwhile, James angled himself around the display of inert books in the middle of the floor and aimed to move to the group. ¡°Okay. Who¡¯s going, who¡¯s holding here?¡± He asked. ¡°I hate stairs.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight grumbled. ¡°Deb will carry me, right?¡± ¡°Absolutely not. We¡¯re staying up here.¡± Deb muttered. The other camraconda craned his neck around to look at James, who stoically ignored the look, until he moved onto Anesh, and then Alanna, who eventually sighed. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll carry you Thought.¡± She said, though she said it with the tone of someone who loved being strong enough to actually do that. ¡°Is Arrush coming?¡± ¡°No, he and Vad are staying up here. Oh, I was right by the way! You owe me!¡± James grinned. ¡°Pay up in private or something.¡± Momo said. ¡°I¡¯m going. Anesh is thinking about staying. Is this a good idea, only four of us?¡± In contrast to how she sounded when there was disaster pressing in from all sides, here Momo¡¯s voice was uncertain. It wasn¡¯t that she was bad at planning, it was that this dungeon was unfamiliar, and all the more scary for it. They¡¯d brought nine people, after all. Why split up when they could meet everything with overwhelming firepower? James answered without really meaning to. ¡°Yeah, four should be fine. Or more importantly, we can¡¯t fit more than four people on the stairs easily, and if we do need backup, we¡¯re visible from up here. So I¡¯d rather keep from getting crowded.¡± He got nods from the others. ¡°Kay. Alanna stays back with Thought until we¡¯re on the ground, then we check the area. I don¡¯t want us wandering too far off, and we¡¯re not going too deep tonight on this basic magic recon mission, so if there¡¯s nothing down there, we¡¯ll come back up, and just explore the shelves around here some more, okay?¡± ¡°Good luck.¡± Anesh said with a solemn nod. ¡°I¡¯m going down some stairs, not to my execution.¡± James rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. ¡°Just remember you¡¯re not as replaceable as me.¡± Anesh said, hands idly drumming on the railing. There wasn¡¯t much else to say, and James didn¡¯t want them lingering around longer than they needed to when they had a self-imposed limited window of time. So he took the lead, and started cautiously making his way down the stairs. The steps were a dark brown wood, rich and worn with time. They were solid under James¡¯ heavy boots, not creaking or showing any indication of being hollow at all. The open space the stairs dropped into, cordoned off by a wooden railing, looked like it was obviously meant for two different sets of steps with one on each side. But only the right side had stairs, with the far wall simply being a blank wall partially covered by a few cloth banners that moved slightly in the constant breeze of the strange library. He avoided the carpet that ran down the middle of the steps. They¡¯d poked and pulled at it from the top of the staircase, and James was pretty sure that it was stable, possibly permanently affixed to the wood somehow. But there was no sense in tempting fate in a dungeon. With each step down, cautiously leading the others while Alanna brought up the rear fireman-carrying a two hundred pound snake, James got more and more of a view of the landing below them. It was, he thought as he stepped through a patch of shadow cast by the overhead lights that came from nowhere, a little more chaotic than the one they¡¯d come from. The shelves around the open area were still towering and imposing, still filled with row after row of densely packed books. But as he got far enough down that he could see the whole landing from his higher angle, he paused and let Momo do the same on the other side of the carpet. The floor was the same cracked stone as above, but where the place they¡¯d come from was a fairly simple arrangement of a librarian¡¯s desk and open floor, here that was absent. Instead, a long table that didn¡¯t look quite right for some reason ran the length of the left side, forming an artificial barrier between the shelves there and the landing. Equally spaced boxy computers sat upon the table, while a riot of cables formed a drape that concealed whatever was below it. On the other side, thick leather chairs that looked like they were sized for beings half again as large as humans formed a semi-circle, facing inward toward nothing. The floor, unlike above, was not bare. Towers and stacks of books, many of them casually strewn around with spines bent and pages torn and scattered, left the whole place looking like it had the feeling of a careless dragon¡¯s hoard. ¡°Humming¡¯s definitely louder.¡± Momo said. James started moving again, slowly. He stopped at the small landing where the stairs made a right turn before they finished on the stone floor, but all he could see from here was more shelves of books behind the stairs. Underneath where his friends were standing up above them, Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight carefully watching them to make sure nothing went too wrong. He stopped again five steps from the bottom, as he caught sight of what actually was in the middle of that partial ring of armchairs, though. It looked human. That was the thing. Just like with the stuffed shirts in Officium Mundi, the figure sitting in a curled position amid the scattered books was, if you didn¡¯t think about it or actually look very closely, a person. But once you did, once you actually took a second to analyze the situation, and let your eyes show you what they were literally seeing, there were simply too many things that pointed to it being other for it to actually be human. It was wearing a torn white robe of some kind, the thick cloth in tatters around its long pale limbs with strips of it dangling off its waving arms. The face, though, was where it became obvious. The lines were too sharp, too much like creases in a book; feminine, yes, but in a way that evoked the story of femininity, not the living of it. It¡¯s eyes were the color of highlighter ink, pooled and allowed to solidify. A few scraps of paper floated in the air near it, dancing in time with its waving arms, and it didn¡¯t stop humming when James moved into view; though he wasn¡¯t sure if that was because he wasn¡¯t spotted, or if he was simply not worth notice. Then he realized he could hear it now. A soft musical tone. Warm and nostalgic in a slightly cracked way. He made a hand gesture to the others, and they crept silently down the last few steps, before touching down on the stone floor of the landing, Alanna gracefully settling their camraconda on the floor before rising back up and carefully unclipping the heavy - and most importantly, not discount - machete she had on her hip. The four of them fanned out, James only briefly pausing as a voice whispered inside his head. ¡°Roads splintering out from her.¡± His navigator told him. ¡°Like light through a¡­ one of those things. The rainbow things. The glass ones.¡± Prisms. James thought back at his passenger. Also that¡¯s deeply unsettling and kind of unhelpful on a tactical level. ¡°Yeeeees¡­¡± The navigator sheepishly drawled out. ¡°Good luck.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The delvers didn¡¯t talk, though Alanna and Momo did shoot wary looks at each other across James as he stepped forward around a pile of battered paperbacks, motioning them to wait. He took a deep breath. This was, weirdly, always the scariest part of new dungeons. Not the fights, not the weird geometry, not the fact that anything could be a trap. No, it was the simple act of opening his mouth, giving away the advantage, and saying, ¡°Hello.¡± James held his hands at his side, the feathered tail of his navigator companion loosely wrapped around one of his legs. ¡°We¡¯re explorers, and we don¡¯t want to fi- fuck.¡± The last word was snapped out as the the artificial person¡¯s hum ramped up in volume, and one of the little pieces of paper around it folded itself into a paper airplane that arrowed itself toward James at high speed, freezing halfway to his head as Thought-Of-Quiet locked onto it. The dungeon creature rolling sideways and taking cover behind one of the armchairs, a trail of paper scraps following it in the air as James ducked out of the way and the camracond let the paper projectile whiz by to stab into a pile of books behind them, knocking a dictionary to the floor. ¡°I¡¯ve seen this anime!¡± Momo called, getting some distance from them and pulling a red totem ball out of her pocket, preparing to click it into action and throw the disruptor at their opponent. James ducked another airplane, putting himself next to Alanna and letting her just slap the next one out of the air with her armored forearm. The paper still dug a furrow into the shell and bullet resistant cloth, which was worrying. ¡°Go left.¡± Alanna told him, tapping him on his own armored shoulder as she broke away and the two of them started circling the line of chairs. Then, as James was trying to flank the thing trying to kill them, it did something unexpected. It spoke. The words came out layered on top of the hum, which hadn¡¯t stopped, but they were certainly legible and the same voice, spoken like a sentence picked up from the middle of a narration. ¡°...top of the stairs, leaning forward. And yet the banister could not hold her weight, and a crack of wood split the quiet air¡­¡± The creature paused to fling an airplane at James as he ducked behind the oversized leather chair just before where it was cowering. Except it didn¡¯t really seem to pause in its speech, so much as it was¡­ waiting, almost. Anticipating. Something built in the air, a pressure. ¡°Shit!¡± James heard from Momo twenty feet away. Except the word changed volume and position really abruptly, and James snapped his head around to see the spot where Momo was standing absent. Followed by the crack of wood and a startled set of yells from behind him, up the stairs where the others were waiting. There was a strangled scream that cut off suddenly. ¡°Alright, screw this.¡± He muttered, pulling one of his hatchets off his rigging, popping out, and flinging it overhand toward the creature¡¯s hiding place. It didn¡¯t hit, but it came really close, his magical Aim enhancement along with actual practice causing it to sink blade-first into the old dark brown leather of the chair next to the creature¡¯s head, and causing it to whip its angular face toward him. It flung another razor sharp paper airplane, an arm that was noticeably too long reaching out to grab a discarded book from the floor and tearing another page out to weaponize. James got his arm up in front of his face, letting the armor take the hit, throwing himself sideways to dodge the next one. But then it started speaking again. A voice like a hush washing over him. ¡°...and the cracks in the ground slipped with the grinding of stone, a new and tiny precipice coming to be under his feet, and he looked down and knew¡­¡± And then it waited again. ¡°Say something!¡± The navigator scream-whispered in James¡¯ mind, a flurry of orange lines blanketing his vision as it showed him likely paths forward, all of them twisted and abrupt. James was more practiced at fighting monsters than most people on the planet. He¡¯d rank himself in the top percentile of general combatants, and he¡¯d survived where a lot of people wouldn¡¯t, or hadn¡¯t. But a lot of that was down to dogged determination, and a willingness to act, and not actual superpowers. James was augmented, sure, but he couldn¡¯t think or react any faster than a baseline human when it came to creative improv, and someone telling him to ¡®say something¡¯ in the middle of a scrap was not a great way to get a reaction. He might have managed a muddled ¡°What.¡± But that wasn¡¯t what was being looked for, or at all enough anyway. And then, the pressure in the air popped, and he found his dodge ending on a different patch of floor, the world swirling around him as he was moved to a different point. Then one of the cracks in the floor shifted under his weight, and instead of stabilizing, James pitched forward as stone ground against stone, his face rushing toward the floor at high speed. And the jagged edge of the broken stone that was a little too conveniently placed. He froze a couple inches before his nose broke, and the rock went into his eye, Though-Of-Quiet grabbing him with his camraconda eye before he hit. Somewhere nearby, James heard another yelp, and a thud of someone hitting the stairs. Alanna swearing, loudly. And then, a set of oddly jointed armored arms wrapping around him as Arrush grabbed onto his technically still falling body and lunged sideways while Though-Of-Quiet let him go, turning what would have been one incredibly painful fall into two slightly less damaging tumbles. They came to a stop in their roll with James on his back, Arrush still half hugging him, the ratroach¡¯s chitin-spotted muzzle panting over his face. ¡°Thanks.¡± James wheezed out. ¡°Gotta get up.¡± Arrush nodded, no time to be mortified as he drooled flecks of something corrosive onto James¡¯ chest, and rolled to the side. Both of them pushed themselves upright, and started running back toward the chairs. Whatever had been done to him, James had only been moved to the other side of this landing, so he wasn¡¯t too far away. He couldn¡¯t see Alanna, though. ¡°Help!¡± Thought-Of-Quiet called, the serpent having taken cover behind a veritable wall of books, too low to the ground to be anything but an obstacle for a human, but enough for him to duck behind as the creature flung repeated paper airplane bolts at him. It was perched up on the arm of one of the oversized chairs now, the leather back of the furniture giving it cover while it bombarded the camraconda. ¡°Alanna has vanished!¡± There was a howl of outrage from somewhere to James¡¯ right, muffled by the row after row of shelves and books. He had no idea how far away it was, but Alanna being pissed off was kind of unmistakable, as were the sounds of things breaking that came shortly after. The creature turned its attention to him and Arrush as they dropped any pretense of tactics, and just charged toward its chair. James fumbling a shaking hand to draw his other hatchet, Arrush with a knife out, both of them with an arm over their vulnerable faces. ¡°Here!¡± Whispered the navigator, an orange profile shimmering in James¡¯ vision. He dipped and ducked through the motions, a pair of shots flying over his head, his momentum almost completely maintained by the move. Then, far ahead of Arrush, James reached the chair. Because while James might not be quicker or snappier than most humans, he could accelerate way beyond what was normal, and that included mad dashes across dungeon territory. He didn¡¯t bother trying to scale the furniture, instead just opting to take a rapid swing at the creature that tumbled backward onto the floor. He caught nothing but a piece of its robe, and the realization that the texture of the cloth was far thicker and rougher than he¡¯d expected. A voice cut over the humming as Arrush circled the other side of the chair, words James couldn¡¯t quite make out in a language he didn¡¯t know. And then, the humming cut off, like someone had just hit the power button on the stereo. He stood panting for a second, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ¡°Get it?¡± He asked Arrush as the big ratroach finished his circle of the chair. ¡°Nnnno.¡± Arrush gasped, chest heaving as he sucked in fresh air. ¡°Ah¡­Alanna.¡± He pointed a claw toward the shelves where things had gone quiet. James jerked, but then stopped as his partner limped back into the clear area. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Alanna lied. ¡°Dictionary got my leg. And I feel dizzy.¡± ¡°Where did it go?¡± Though-Of-Quiet asked, whipping his lens around the area, searching for any sign of the creature. ¡°Did it run?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± James said. ¡°Wait, Momo! Shit!¡± He looked up toward the stairs they¡¯d taken to get down here, then relaxed as he saw Momo halfway down them. Momo rubbed at her shoulder as she waved. ¡°I¡¯m fine! Sunny and Vad caught me, and this place sucks!¡± With a sigh of releasing tension, James nodded. And then, they all took some time to regroup. Frequency-Of-Sunlight and Deb checked everyone over, declaring most of them fine, and Alanna absolutely not fine. Sunny called up her authority, who James was somehow only just learning was named Dusty, to needle into the bite wound that went through Alanna¡¯s armor and into the muscle of her leg. While Dusty worked, and whispered to the camraconda, Frequency-Of-Sunlight confirmed that the books were indeed venomous. Or at least, the one that had bitten Alanna ways, though it was only a soporific. The protocol the Order had developed of switching ownership of the resistance programs that they ran on the increasing mess of hardware in their basement to whatever delve team was active was suddenly seeming a lot less like an overdone precaution now. A total ten percent resistance to venom was kind of nebulous, but since Alanna had been teleported mid-fight into a shelf filled with things trying to eat her, an extra ten percent could have been what kept her alive. There was no real way to confirm it, but James shared what his navigator had shown him, the way the paths around the creature fluctuated when it started talking, and the feeling of a kind of pressure in the air when it stopped. Momo and Alanna confirmed feeling that too. ¡°I think,¡± James said, ¡°it¡¯s an improv game.¡± ¡°Explain, but use words Arrush will understand.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said, getting a fondly exasperated pat on the head from her girlfriend and a tilt of the head from Arrush, who was still sitting with his back against one of the padded chairs. ¡°Improv is a thing where¡­¡± James stopped himself before Anesh could say whatever he was going to utter. ¡°Right, sorry. Not the time for the full explanation. Um¡­ you¡¯re supposed to finish the story. It was narrating this fight. But it was putting us in the worst places. I just¡­ uh¡­ I am not creative under pressure?¡± He admitted. Anesh sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not creative at all, so this is going to be a problem. Also, and this may sound bad, but¡­ is that not a bit shit for a second encounter? So much for the theory that dungeons need to be fair.¡± ¡°It¡¯s perfectly fair.¡± Alanna muttered in a drowsy tone. ¡°I could take her.¡± ¡°Also third encounter.¡± Momo said. ¡°I¡¯m counting the crab.¡± ¡°Also.¡± James added. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ unfortunately fair. Also Anesh I want to remind you that my third Office encounter was a fucking tumblefeed, so, like, ¡®balance¡¯ is relative.¡± He sighed, and glanced over at Thought-Of-Quiet. ¡°It¡¯s like the camracondas.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s a test. A gate. Can you be creative under pressure? If not, die. Just like how the camracondas are ¡®did you bring a friend if not die¡¯.¡± ¡°It is true.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said softly. ¡°I always win one-vee-one basketball.¡± Vad blinked and opened his mouth, the new guy uncertain if he should interject. But everyone noticed, and James motioned him to go ahead while Momo elbowed him. ¡°Uh¡­ no, sorry, I just kind of want to know how you play basketball?¡± He asked the snake. ¡°Very well.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet answered, tilting his head back proudly. The new guy nodded like that answered his question. ¡°Right.¡± ¡°So, what now?¡± Deb asked as James stretched and started looking around for wherever his first hatchet had landed. ¡°We still have plenty of time. Are we sticking around?¡± James groaned. ¡°Nnnnnnnooooo.¡± He eventually admitted. ¡°No. We can¡¯t. Not with something like that around. That fight was¡­ okay, so, four of us against it, and the best we could do was not get instantly murdered. That¡¯s bad. Maybe if we¡¯d downed half our potions in prep, we could have managed it. But the way it can throw us into the shelves, where there¡¯s books waiting? I don¡¯t think it knows how bad that could be, which is good, because we¡¯d be toast.¡± He sighed. ¡°We can¡¯t keep poking around where something that can disrupt us that bad is hanging out.¡± ¡°Ah, but you know how to deal with it now.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°Also, we could just go deeper into the shelves on the main level?¡± ¡°You¡¯re really hoping to find a magic book, aren¡¯t you?¡± James asked with a grin. ¡°James I love you, but everyone here wants to find a magic book, you included. Vad¡¯s known about magic items probably since I started this sentence, and he wants to find a magic book.¡± Anesh held out a hand palm up toward Vad, who just nodded sheepishly. ¡°See?¡± In response, James just grinned. It took them a little time to navigate the stairs up, with two camracondas in tow, but from there, the group took the next hour or so to prowl the shelves, looking for anything useful. Mostly, they found more incredibly angry books full of teeth. And a few of those strange mobile words that scrawled themselves across surfaces, waiting to be translated. That, and more shelves. Momo, Anesh, and Thought-Of-Quiet had just come back from scouting a point where the shelves shifted from metal to wood and formed a split intersection, when James decided to call it. No magic book tonight. Instead, all they had was just shy of a hundred of the orbs from this place, which Deb and James had gotten to work marking with a label maker before they left through the main door and headed back. No one really felt like letting a comical mixup happen between these and the Officium Mundi orbs. ¡°So, that¡¯s it?¡± Vad asked as they stepped back into reality. ¡°That¡¯s it, like, that¡¯s the end of it? Or you¡¯re not impressed with the extradimensional library? Or¡­ nope, no idea what you mean.¡± James said as the warm night air of Texas summer slapped him in the face after the cool interior of the dungeon. Vad gave him an incredulous look. ¡°I mean¡­ you¡¯re not going to try to shut it down, or¡­ or¡­ I dunno, set up camp?¡± ¡°Well,¡± James said, ¡°we don¡¯t actually know if this one has done anything aside from defend itself, so we¡¯re not just gonna kill it. Not that we know how, anyway. And we¡¯ve got lives to get back to, so we¡¯re not gonna build a dungeon guard post or anything. Mostly, what we do in situations like this, is get someone on the ground nearby as an early warning system in case anything changes. And then we¡¯ll explore and make use of the dungeon¡¯s resources as we¡¯re able.¡± ¡°Oh, okay.¡± Vad looked mildly reassured that James actually had a plan. Then he paused, because he was smart, and knew where this was going. His eyes widened slightly. ¡°Wait, no¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, so, we¡¯ll get you onto the Order¡¯s server, and get you the contact info for everyone who you¡¯ll need.¡± James patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Also an armory package. You¡¯ll probably like it.¡± ¡°Is it more magic? Because yeah, I probably will, but this is¡­ what is happening?¡± ¡°Responsibility of power or something.¡± Anesh said as James checked on an Alanna who was sitting with her leg propped up on one of the library chairs and getting tired of being checked on. ¡°You actually can say no, if you want. James is serious, but this isn¡¯t a mandatory thing.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight nodded as she looked over at Vad. ¡°Yes. I was told that we could not interview people who did not ask.¡± ¡°I mean, yes, obviously.¡± Vad said. ¡°This is terrifying, but also¡­ uh¡­¡± He flushed slightly and looked away. ¡°But also really cool and you can¡¯t wait for more, even though you got hurt the first time, right.¡± Anesh said knowingly. ¡°We¡¯ve been there. Anyway, don¡¯t go in alone, we¡¯ll be in touch, uh¡­ any other questions?¡± Vad looked like he had a few million questions, but settled on, ¡°Why does James have a tail?¡± Anesh opened his mouth, then closed it, and looked over at his boyfriend. ¡°I think it¡¯s a navigator thing? I¡­ had not noticed that really. Huh. I¡¯ll get back to you?¡± ¡°Sure¡­¡± Vad said, still reeling from the night¡¯s events. From the last couple weeks, really. It had all moved kind of fast. He still didn¡¯t really get his bearings until well after the Order¡¯s team teleported back to their home base, leaving him alone in a library at four in the morning. It was kind of weird, being at work like this, when no one else was around, he mused. Somewhere, old wood creaked, and Vad decided he¡¯d muse at home, and not in this fucking building by himself. Chapter 202 ¡°Violence is the language that those in power use to destroy their own world. Violence in turn is the only way they can be forced to listen.¡± -Noah Gervais, Souls Inheritors- ¡ª¡ª ¡°Rufus!¡± James exclaimed, high-fiving the growing strider as he passed by in the basement hallway. James had just come from the main hub of Research, where he was trying to make headway on actually reading through the captured notebooks of the insane mechanic who had murdered the majority of a city a few months back. The Order of Endless Rooms had a somewhat lackadaisical view of information security sometimes. Everyone knew what their Rogues were up to, for example, and the Response operations records were all public and in a sorted database. But for some things, a more serious approach was required, including taking precautions against things that might not actually be problems. The fortunately deceased mechanic¡¯s notebooks contained a lot of what you¡¯d expect from someone who had decided they deserved to be a god and that anyone in their way was at best fuel and at worst an insult to be torturously murdered. But in between the self-aggrandizing philosophy that would have looked right at home in some of the worst comments sections on the internet, there was also a frightening amount of power. Three theoretical ways to draw a dungeon¡¯s territory out from the dungeon. One way, practically tested, to bind it there. Methods - some tested, some thankfully not - for shaping dungeon power to convert human bone into necromantic soldiers, or to eat the life force of sacrificed individuals, or to cloud people¡¯s memories, or to bring a vehicle to life, whatever that meant. No one was allowed to read it without double authorization from two people who had clearance, and at least one person on site to observe. The book didn¡¯t leave the room, no copies were to be made. If they lost this source of information, then too bad; the Order would get by without it, and that risk was worth not spreading around the fact that it might actually be really easy to trigger a zombie apocalypse. Not, like, oops my bad easy, but as James puzzled through the old asshole¡¯s vaguely racist bullshit, he did start to think it would be easy enough for basically anyone with the right approach to get started. The mechanic had spend a lot of time laying the groundwork, and either by accident or intent put a limiter on his own zombie army, but it did actually seem like anyone with half a brain and a gun could get this started on a much smaller scale. It sucked and James hated it, which meant he wasn¡¯t in a great mood, and was looking for any excuse to feel better about his day. So, high-fiving a living stapler. Which was actually a great mood boost, really, and not just because James was doing his best to ditch the scowling face for his friend. Rufus, crawling across a web of paperclips hanging from the ceiling in that way that James was pretty sure defied physics, made some complex and excited gestures with his pen legs at his lower-to-the-ground human friend. He really had been growing more lately; not hugely, but enough that it was recognizable that he clearly wasn¡¯t a normal stapler anymore. If he held really still, you could maybe imagine he was a novelty gift or something, but once he started moving it was hard to see him as a piece of office equipment, and easier to just assume he was a weird form of new life. Which he was. ¡°Yeah, I get that.¡± James nodded in response to Rufus¡¯ gestures. ¡°But you know you don¡¯t have to work too hard, right? Or at all, honestly.¡± Rufus rolled his central eye, an impressive feat while dangling upside down. Maybe. James wasn¡¯t actually sure if striders were built to do that. One single pen tip extended slowly to point directly at James. ¡°Okay, first of all, shut up.¡± James folded his arms. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I can take a break when¡­ I was just on vacation!¡± Two members of Research passed him by, the humans squeezing against the wall and avoiding in any way getting involved in the conversation of someone yelling at the ceiling about how relaxed he totally was. ¡°Oh, whatever. Anyway, what¡¯cha been up to lately?¡± At that, Rufus perked up, and motioned for James to follow, scurrying across the paperclip webbing somehow without dragging it down as he skittered down to the next intersection of concrete basement hall, and took a sharp turn. James shrugged, and followed, passing a few other people who were either absorbed in what they were reading or having a heated conversation about the emerald chips that grew programs. When he caught up to Rufus, the strider was pushing a lever that had been added at the top of a door to a side closet, the contraption allowing his small form to slide the larger door open easily enough. He ducked in, motioning for James to follow and shut the door. The inside was warm. James instantly felt stifled in the hot air, and he saw why Rufus wanted the door kept shut. It was also cramped; barely any space for a human to stand, most of the whole supply closet taken up by tables covered in pots, lamps, terrariums, and tiny customized gardening tools. And a riot of growth, plants both mundane and mystical filling the room. About twenty different small cacti dotted around the area, growing next to pots with thorny vines and weeds James recognized from his walks around the area. But then mixed into that, planter pots that grew copper stems ending in spiked balls of staples, or the entire back wall being taken up by one of those weird vines that James had seen near the printer ink ocean in Officium Mundi. The strider dropped down to one of the tables, tapping twice on the white painted wood. And James was just about to comment on the space being impressive when a small voice near his feet let out a panicked yelp. James nearly jumped out of his skin, yelping as well as he hopped back and tried to catch himself on the wall so he didn¡¯t knock anything over. Sweeping his gaze over the floor, he caught sight of a splash of white cloth crawling under one of the shelves, and slowly caught his breath. ¡°Okay, hi.¡± He said. Rufus hopped adroitly to the floor, flicking out a pen leg to tap the back of the creature that had startled James, then scratching at the floor in a ¡®get out here¡¯ kind of manner. A few considered seconds later, Fredrick, one of the first creations of the Clutter Ascent dungeon, rotated himself around to face out from under the shelf, and poked his head out. ¡°Hello. Sssssnacks?¡± The creature¡¯s face was a soft blending of the smooth flesh of a salamander and the snout of a raccoon, and if that was all you had to go on, he was adorable. He was still adorable when you knew he was part spider as well, and had a number of extra limbs growing off his back, but he was self-conscious about that. His full name was Fredrick Umbra Armillary, because Sarah had named him, and no one, especially Fredrick, was going to tell her otherwise. James snorted a laugh at how quickly the little guy got over his fear. ¡°Sure.¡± He said, pulling a granola bar out of his back pocket and offering it down. Fredrick scrambled out, bowling Rufus aside as he scampered forward, his normal black furred form covered in a baggy white tee shirt that was splattered with colored inks. ¡°What¡¯s with the frock?¡± James asked. Rufus tapped once to get his attention, and then pointed to the vine at the back of the room, small oval pods of colored fluid growing off the blossoms on it. He put two legs together, then split them apart with a huff, miming an explosion. ¡°Huh.¡± James nodded. ¡°That¡¯s kinda cool. Good foresight, though!¡± With a slump, and a denying shake of his body, Rufus slid up next to where Fredrick was scarfing down the granola bar clutched in his two front paws, and lifted up the hem of the shirt. Underneath, James could see that the normal black fur was painted a bright neon yellow and pink in splotches that didn¡¯t exactly glow, but were more contrasted than they should have been. ¡°Ah.¡± James tried not to laugh, but couldn¡¯t hold back a grin. ¡°Gotchya. Well hey, wanna show me around?¡± He stood back up, and dusted off his knees, as his first dungeon friend started scampering from plant to plant, explaining with powerfully emotive gestures and occasionally the help of Fredrick talking in a cluttered hiss around a mouthful of granola what each of them were. There were a bunch of cacti in here, and a whole row of duplications of the pot that could grow anything as a succulent. Rufus apparently had requested a few, and since they stacked decently, Anesh had used their extra duplication ritual for the last couple weeks to make a bunch. Now, James knew, these pots would be in high demand to grow more of the potion-making sap. But damned if he was gonna take these away from Rufus. Though it did amuse the fuck out of him that Rufus had used them to grow mostly normal earth cactus. Just¡­ smaller, and more contained. Also, an agave plant, which seemed to be on an accelerated life cycle. Rufus showed James through rows of his staple crop, which seemed to be growing really well out of normal earth soil that should not have been able to produce something made of steel and zinc. Some of them were held up by small wooden stakes, and had been shaped into different patterns. It took James a minute to realize Rufus was essentially making plant art here, and when he did, his face morphed into a goofy beaming grin as he followed along looking at the plants. When James went to poke at the wall vine, complete with its pods of what seemed to be highlighter ink, Rufus just stopped him, crossing his legs together and standing between James and disaster. Which was appreciated, really. And then, after showing James a blackberry vine that he was especially proud of, Rufus and Fredrick practically dragged James down to look at the most impressive thing in their garden. Under one of the wire racks, shaded from the light in the room, was what looked like a sample of a coiled black vine. Clearly of dungeon origin, it had a rubbery skin and was ¡®planted¡¯ in what looked like patches of office carpet. James didn¡¯t quite get why it was so impressive, until Rufus had climbed over it, and pulled James view to the side, so that he could see a small nub of black rubber plant flesh growing off the main vine trunk. And on the end of it, dull in color and smaller than any other example he¡¯d ever seen, sat a small yellow ball, strands of sticky black goo keeping it in place. It hadn¡¯t been put there. It was growing there. ¡°Well holy shit.¡± James said. Which was a bit of an understatement, really. This meant a lot of things, and even just knowing this was possible would set the Research division into a hurricane of action. But right now, it meant one very important thing, which James needed to acknowledge. ¡°This is awesome, you guys.¡± He said, reaching over to fist bump Rufus. ¡°Not just this, the whole garden. Seriously, this place is so cool.¡± James smiled as Fredrick sheepishly tried to recede into the background, the stuff animal still not used to other people. ¡°Alright, I gotta get going. Do you mind if I tell people about this?¡± He asked, and got a resigned nod from Rufus. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay to say no.¡± He said, but the strider just gave a bobbing shrug of a motion. ¡°Well, alright. Is there anything you want for this place? Like, I don¡¯t want you to just keep adding more work to do. But if you want anything, we¡¯ve got the resources now.¡± Rufus thought about it for a second, and then pointed up with one of his legs. ¡°A¡­ another floor?¡± James asked, getting a negative motion in response and more pointing up. ¡°To be upstairs? Up¡­ up¡­ wait, like, sun? You want sunlight?¡± He snapped his fingers as Rufus started nodding. ¡°Shockingly, yes, I think we have a way to get some sunlight into this underground room.¡± James said, the sentence giving him a moment of perspective on his life. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you informed.¡± He turned to leave, waving goodbye to the two of them and getting waves in return. After James had left, Rufus turned and patted Fredrick on the shoulder. It was lucky James hadn¡¯t noticed the absolute mess of neon orange ink that was pooling on the ceiling like gravity didn¡¯t apply to it, and now that he was gone, they had to deal with that before something happened. ¡°Ssssmmmmop?¡± Fredrick asked. He¡¯d seen a mop around here, somewhere. Rufus considered it and slowly nodded. Maybe they could ask someone from Research and get it written off as cute antics, without anyone asking questions. Rufus wished Ganesh would come by. Ganesh could ask for anything and it seemed reasonable. Plan acquired, the two of them pulled the door open and made their way back into the basement. ____ The problem, as Karen saw it, was that there was a barrier between having phenomenal material wealth, and actually using that wealth. The Order of Endless Rooms, to the surprise of no one who spent more than a few days around the place, was full marvels beyond what humans normally pulled off. Other species, weird magics, odd artifacts that they didn¡¯t know how to use. It was¡­ a bit of a mess. But it also meant that when someone learned they had a matter replicator, the standard response was ¡®Oh. Okay?¡¯ And no one new appreciated just how much time and effort it had taken to get to the point that they could just casually output an actual literal ton of platinum. Research¡¯s work on the orange totems, the actual acquisition of the material in the first place, the duplication runs spent on that when they could have been spent making more magic, empowering the people who fought on their version of the frontlines, or curing cancer. The costs added up. But now they had tons of platinum. Literal tons. Multiple thousands of pounds. In easily portable bars, too. And there was a bit of a barrier. What they needed was food, materials, manufactured goods, skilled labor, and a slot within the systems of the world that would gradually accrue trust that could be leveraged into logistical lines. No amount of raw material wealth could simply make those things appear, without doing something highly unethical. You couldn¡¯t actually just go to the grocery store and hand them a brick of rare metal in exchange for their produce department. You couldn¡¯t deposit it in a bank account, or use it to pay salaries, or trade it for needed materials. You couldn¡¯t do much with platinum, as a normal citizen of the United States, or any modern country really. This got into the point where the rubber met the road on the concept of ¡®value¡¯. What, exactly, was this metal worth? Well, twenty thousand dollars a pound, in general. But why? Because it was rare, and people used it for things. Mostly electronics of various forms. LCD screens used it, so did fiber optic cables. The automobile industry also made use of it, but only for diesel vehicles, so demand was waning as time went by. Karen knew that last part because that had been where she¡¯d gone first to try to offload a large portion of their ¡®wealth¡¯. For some time, the Order had maintained a relationship with a local metal foundry, selling quantities of silver that they pulled out of Officium Mundi. Technically, this was entirely legal, but there was a lot of grey area in selling precious metal that you couldn¡¯t source the original mining of. Still, it was a working relationship that was a good way to convert something they had no use for, into liquid currency. That foundry operator had laughed at Karen when she¡¯d offered the platinum. Karen was not the only person working on this problem; she had long since acquired a real staff to help with the Order¡¯s finances. But she was the one who had ended up feeling like she had a vendetta against this particular obstacle. ¡°I understand that this is not what you normally work with.¡± Karen was saying into her phone, voice the patient cadence of a mother who was trying very hard not to be angry, but was still disappointed. ¡°What we are offering is an alternate supply for your factories, with no market fluctuation, no interruption, and no¡­ yes. Yes. Yes, I am aware that you do not know who we are.¡± She struggled to keep her voice level as Texture-Of-Barkdust looked up from where they were doing research on the other side of the desk, the camraconda¡¯s eye lensing in concern as Karen¡¯s tone got more irate. ¡°No, it is sourced through a private operation, which is- no, it is not stolen or illicit in any way.¡± Her eye twitched. ¡°You can verify that through the absolute absence of several tons of platinum going missing from the open market in the prior history of the country.¡± She snapped. A few seconds later, she pulled her phone away from her head, looked at the ¡®call ended¡¯ screen, and sighed. ¡°Slightly unprofessional.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust told her. ¡°Oh hush.¡± She sighed at her friend and co-worker. ¡°We have made a mistake with this.¡± Karen waved at the stack of notes they had collected, the charts of who they had spoken to, who had said no. It wasn¡¯t that she¡¯d made no sales - the Order was financially stable for at least a year of ¡®normal¡¯ operations - but this was basically cold calling. Which was not enjoyable. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Texture-Of-Barkdust arched her back, cables creaking slightly as she stretched herself in the basket chair she was using. ¡°Where?¡± She asked. ¡°In making this much platinum in the first place.¡± Karen said. ¡°Functionally, we are now able to provide the yearly planetary output of platinum in roughly three weeks, if we chose to do so. But no one will buy from us.¡± She held up two fingers to her lips. ¡°We aren¡¯t accredited, we aren¡¯t a securities exchange, we have no established contracts. And yes, we have all this valuable material, but no one is trusting us enough to take it.¡± ¡°You have established three long term contracts.¡± The camraconda pointed out. Karen made a dismissive snort. ¡°Hardly. A year is not a long time, and they¡¯re all for far less than we could provide. It¡¯s not a problem, we have an income now that is enough for normal operations, however¡­¡± She trailed off, both her and Texture-Of-Barkdust nodding slightly as they thought about how ¡®normal¡¯ wasn¡¯t really a useful word around here. ¡°We should tell them to stop making more.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said eventually. ¡°Hm?¡± Karen looked up from the list of part processing factories and their parent companies she had assembled. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Anesh and the others who run the ritual. We should tell them to stop making more platinum.¡± Karen blinked. ¡°They¡¯re still¡­ we haven¡¯t even¡­ how much do we have?¡± The camraconda tried to find the note she had, and couldn¡¯t. ¡°Planner?¡± She asked the open air. ¡°What is the quantity of platinum stored in the Lair?¡± A thin teal shape of a reaching tentacle coiled out from nowhere behind Texture-Of-Barkdust. ¡°Twelve thousand six hundred and four pounds, rounded. It is being stored in the ancillary crawlspace to keep it out of the way.¡± The infomorph said in their voice like a pen on paper. Texture-Of-Barkdust just pivoted her head to look back at Karen with a nod. Karen pressed her hands together, bringing the line of her fingers up to her forehead. ¡°Richer than my wildest dreams.¡± She muttered. ¡°And no one¡¯s buying.¡± ¡°Three contracts!¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust reminded her. ¡°Call someone else! Just tell them it¡¯s magic!¡± The camraconda¡¯s digital voice spiked in volume briefly. Karen checked her watch, a classic plated metal band, not some modern digital thing. ¡°Mmh. No.¡± She said. ¡°I will need to leave in twenty minutes to pick up my daughter.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust nodded again. ¡°Punctuality is important.¡± She stated. ¡°I will call, then.¡± Briefly, Karen felt a spark of concern. And the part of her that was a mother wanted to say something about how that wasn¡¯t a good idea, that her co-worker wasn¡¯t ready. The really condescending part of her brain reminded her that Texture-Of-Barkdust was five years old, and that despite having mastered double entry accounting and the use of Microsoft Excel, she was a child and not a seasoned negotiator. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ if that¡¯s a good idea.¡± Karen said slowly. The camraconda met her eyes, an understanding look in her lens. ¡°Because I am not human.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°Yes.¡± Karen didn¡¯t blunt the truth for her friend. ¡°We¡¯ve talked about this.¡± ¡°We have.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said with a physical sigh over her digital voice. ¡°But I have decided I do not care. I am here now, and will not be excluded from my own life. Your people will have to adapt.¡± She said. ¡°I would rather confront the casual racism of your species, than hide from it.¡± Karen flinched like she¡¯d been shocked. She caught herself before she spoke, a dozen defensive replies on her lips. None of them feeling especially good. Instead, she took a breath, and reminded herself that she was in a place where the normal rules didn¡¯t apply so much. And maybe it would be okay, if her office was cold calling with a life form that most people would assume was a sophisticated computer program. Also, after a full day of trying to establish contacts in the manufacturing industry, Karen was honestly quite prepared to set Texture-Of-Barkdust on them just to see what happened. And she was short on time anyway. So she nodded, and said in the friendliest tone she had in her at the moment, ¡°Well, don¡¯t make too much trouble. Remember the practice runs we did. And remember to save the call recordings!¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said as Karen stood and collected her jacket and purse. ¡°I am very professional.¡± _____ ¡°Hi.¡± James said quietly, half holding open the door to a hospital room. The Order of Endless Rooms had a hospital. More of an ER, really, but it was on par with a modern and well-funded hospital. It was actually their first major orange orb totem construction project, and it was something James was immensely proud of them for, even though he didn¡¯t really get why the most important thing was that the nurse¡¯s station was only three steps away from any given door. They¡¯d put it in a basement, because the rules no longer applied to them, and James wasn¡¯t about to get a permit to build an underground medical facility from a city that wouldn¡¯t care that technically the walls didn¡¯t actually intersect the pipes. Currently, their hospital held six people. One human who had gotten their leg cut open on a dungeon delve and lost so much blood they¡¯d needed an emergency transfusion; they were stable and recovering, because telepads were lifesavers. One camraconda currently on an IV because they had the flu and that disease was way more dangerous to their species. One Akashic Sewer life form that was some kind of crow-was still recovering from a near-death experience, but was finally out of her coma and was able to be awake for a few hours a day; Alanna tried to spend time with her when she could. And three ratroaches. Also from the Akashic Sewer, also confused, scared, and not even close to in good health. Deb wanted them kept in isolation until they got a clean bill of health, which might take a little while, since she was having trouble sourcing some of the vaccinations she needed. For now, though, James was here to have some conversations. Beyond the basic ¡°it¡¯s okay, you¡¯re safe¡± that they¡¯d all gotten before they¡¯d been given space to rest, recover, and start to feel comfortable. These things could take time. And heavy chats weren¡¯t anything that needed to be rushed in a situation like this. The ratroach on the bed looked up at James from the Rubick¡¯s cube it was playing with, antenna softly bobbing as it moved. And James was treated to a fresh reminder that the two ratroaches that lived with them already were heavily modified examples of the species. This one was scrawny, to the point that you could see where its lack of muscle definition caused patches of hard chitin to pull painfully on the fuse points to its furred skin. Like Arrush and Keeka when they¡¯d arrived, it was covered in red lines that hadn¡¯t faded yet; infections and rashes that were being actively treated now that it was out of the Sewer, but that didn¡¯t just go away overnight. It¡¯s head was the same kind of triangular form, ending in a rat¡¯s muzzle; this one with a sweep of smooth chitin on the top of its head that almost left it looking bald. Bald and missing one pointed ear. It had three eyes. Two big bulging ones, and a single smaller faceted beady dot, the left side of its face having the smaller eye offset under the larger one. And to go with the extra eye, a single extra arm, the ¡®shoulder¡¯ of it growing out of what would be just off to the small of a human¡¯s back. Most of it was wrapped up in the hospital bedding, even over the loose clothing they¡¯d given it. But James could see spots of cream-white fur poking out. He suddenly realized he wasn¡¯t actually sure how Deb had gotten the ratroaches bathed and cleaned. A small spark of guilt rooted into his chest, as he wondered if he should have offered to help with that. But he set it aside for later. The ratroach flinched as James opened the door and spoke. More than just flinched, it twitched, and cowered. Not a lot, but enough. It also didn¡¯t speak, just staring at him. ¡°Do you mind if I come in for a minute?¡± James asked, keeping his voice calm and kind. The ratroach nodded in a snap motion, like it was afraid of giving the wrong answer. James didn¡¯t comment, just entering, leaving the door a bit open, and pulling up a chair. He stayed a bit away from the bed though. ¡°So.¡± He said. ¡°Deb tells me your vocal cords don¡¯t work quite right, but that you still know bits of a few languages. So I brought you this.¡± He opened the small bag he¡¯d brought along, and brought out a small whiteboard and a set of pens. ¡°Here.¡± He handed it over. The ratroach looked at him for a while, before cautiously reaching out for the offered objects. ¡°Don¡¯t sniff the pens too closely; I dunno what they put in those, but I know it¡¯s not great. Whatever you write on the board, can be wiped off easily, so you can¡­ yeah.¡± James nodded as the ratroach, with sharp claws, uncapped one of the pens and started writing something. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll tell you now, I don¡¯t know German.¡± James added. The ratroach froze, then slowly looked around for something to wipe the board with, before looking down at its own sheets. James cut it off, passing over a box of tissues. A minute later, after shaking paws got the words where it wanted them, it turned the board toward him. ¡°Why here?¡± It asked. ¡°Me?¡± James asked, and got a nod. ¡°Partly to give you that.¡± James said, nodding to the gift. ¡°Partly to talk to you a bit about the near future.¡± The ratroach tensed up, drawing back and bracing one of its digitigrade legs on the side of the bed, like it was curling up to run for the door. James didn¡¯t exactly sigh, but he did just widen his eyes in a sad look, pursing his lips and shaking his head slightly. ¡°It¡¯s not bad, I promise.¡± He added, and the ratroach absolutely did not relax or believe him. ¡°Well. Uh¡­ do you have a name?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯m James.¡± A shake of the head. When James asked if they¡¯d like to come up with one, they almost eagerly started writing, before catching themselves. ¡°It¡¯s actually okay.¡± James said, trying not to let his voice crack. ¡°I promise. I know it doesn¡¯t mean much, but I swear, we are not going to hurt you. It¡¯s not a trick or a trap, if you¡­ it¡¯s okay to have a name.¡± He swallowed, trying to resist the urge to reach out and comfort the creature in the bed. He¡¯d tried that with the last one, which was why he was wearing a long sleeved shirt in the middle of summer; it hid the bandages and stitches better. Still staring at him with one of its eyes, the ratroach picked up the pen off the sheet where it had dropped it, missing or ignoring the mark it left, and slowly started writing something again. The room was quiet for a bit, except for the hissing breathing of the ratroach, and the felt squeak of the dry erase marker. When it turned the board to James, it had one word written on it. ¡°Smoke.¡± ¡°Smoke.¡± James said, then smiled slightly, ignoring the flinch at his grin. ¡°Hello Smoke.¡± He said. ¡°Has everything been okay for you so far, here?¡± There was a long pause, but eventually, a slow nod. Again, like the ratroach - like Smoke - was waiting for a trap to spring. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± James said. ¡°So, I¡¯d like to talk about tomorrow.¡± He said. Smoke pulled itself into a tighter coil, prepared to fight its way out if it needed to. But¡­ James didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t look like he was going to even get up from the chair to stop it if it tried to run. It was so confusing. The ratroach took up the board again, and slowly, awkwardly, penned a question, feet pressed on the mattress. ¡°What about it?¡± ¡°Well.¡± James said. ¡°Let me get the basic stuff done first. You are welcome to stay as long as you want, okay? We aren¡¯t going to kick you out, or leave you to go hungry or cold. The Order - that¡¯s us, by the way, Order of Endless Rooms, a name that is a bit of a mouthful and I regret making so long - has taken responsibility for you. And that means that you will always have a place here if you want it, even if you leave and need to come back later.¡± Smoke nodded, but didn¡¯t really understand. ¡°Okay.¡± James continued. ¡°So. We have some real apartments set up in another part of the building, but that¡¯s not the only option you have. We have an offsite operation in a mostly empty city; it¡¯s technically more dangerous, but there¡¯s fewer people around if you¡¯d prefer that. But we can sort that out later, I just¡­ I¡¯m getting ahead of myself.¡± He took a deep breath, trying to not wince at the strong smell of antiseptic and the half dozen different antifungal creams on the ratroach¡¯s body. ¡°Let me outline the next week or so. You¡¯ll be here for a few more days of isolation, until your treatment is done. Deb is gonna get some vaccines for you, and I swear, I know this sounds bad, but don¡¯t worry about the needles. Also, we need to make sure there¡¯s nothing growing on or in you that might hurt anyone. That includes a sweep from Planner or another infomorph, probably to address why I keep thinking of you as ¡®it¡¯ and not ¡®her¡¯, which is really pissing me off every time I notice it. After that, we¡¯ll get you moved to somewhere you can start to get comfortable. Someone from our Recovery division will be available to help you when you need it, and we¡¯ll also get you started on long term trauma therapy, and cultural lessons.¡± James sniffed slightly as he took a pause, rubbing his nose with the back of a scarred hand. ¡°After that¡­ oh?¡± He stopped as the ratroach held up their whiteboard. ¡°Or else what?¡± Smoke had written on it in Spanish, giving James a frightened but challenging look, their eyes peering over the top of the board held up like it was a shield. ¡°Or¡­ or else nothing.¡± James said with sad kindness. ¡°Sorry. I should be clear here. You can leave as soon as we¡¯re done with the medical stuff. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t think you¡¯d like it? The world kind of sucks right now, but you could, and we won¡¯t stop you. Hell, we¡¯ll give you a care package on the way out. This is just if you want to stay.¡± Smoke tapped their board again, eyes glinting as they narrowed them at James. James just shook his head, firmly. ¡°No. You aren¡¯t¡­ no. There is no or else. There is no threat.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± The board was turned back to James with a rough and rapid scribble of language on it. ¡°Won¡¯t¡­ what?¡± James asked, mildly confused, but no less tense. Smoke shrugged at him, and he got the impression the answer was ¡®anything¡¯. ¡°No¡­¡± his voice softened again. ¡°No. We¡¯re not asking anything, or demanding anything. This is¡­ this is just a gift. Okay?¡± He got a nod, but obviously no belief. James sighed now, for real. ¡°Alright. Well, hey. One step at a time. Do you have any questions for me?¡± ¡°Why?¡± The word was written in the margin, next to the other bits. Smoke tapped at it with a frantic claw, scratching their new whiteboard. James smiled a little. ¡°You know how¡­ you know how, where you were until we brought you here, whoever was strong did whatever they wanted?¡± He asked. Smoke nodded at him. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°Well. Together, all of us here? We are very strong. And we have decided to be kind.¡± He pushed his chair back, standing slowly. ¡°Think on if you want to live by yourself or not. Also, if you want to talk to someone who¡¯s been in your position, there are others here who might be able to help you. Just let the nurse or Recovery agent know, okay? And I¡¯ll talk to you in a couple days.¡± He didn¡¯t get an answer, except a suspicious stare, so he just smiled again, and pulled the door open enough to slip out, closing it softly. Once in the hallway, James let out a very long sigh, resisting the urge to hammer his head against the closed door. Then he turned, and made a high pitched noise barely muffled by grinding his teeth together, as he almost ran directly into Keeka, the ratroach seeming to blend into the white and blue wall of the hospital area even though he was wearing black sweatpants and a matching hoodie. ¡°Hi.¡± James squeaked out, clutching at his chest and coughing as he caught his breath. ¡°Ahhhhahahaha. Hi. Hi Keeka. How are you. Also why.¡± The shorter ratroach tilted his head sideways, wet nose on the end of his snout widening as he sniffed loudly. ¡°You smell like blood.¡± He muttered to James. ¡°They hurt you.¡± ¡°Well, not that one.¡± James said. ¡°Unless you count my sense of karmic justice, in which case, yes, that is also wounded.¡± Keeka just stared at him, not fully understanding and annoyed that James was doing the thing where he referenced stuff the relatively uneducated ratroach didn¡¯t get. ¡°Sorry.¡± James said with another deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Don¡¯t worry about. Please. ¡°Knew they would hurt.¡± The ratroach muttered, two arms crossing their chest to grip their left side with clutched claws. ¡°I can¡­¡± ¡°Stop.¡± James said, firmly. ¡°You cannot. It isn¡¯t their fault.¡± ¡°Why not? They¡¯re monsters.¡± Keeka said, seeming to shrink as they slouched down and stared at the floor. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be here.¡± They whispered with a wet hiss. Maybe it was because he¡¯d had a long day, or because he was already feeling emotionally raw, but James acted without thinking about it. Deciding, on a poorly informed reflex, to make an example. An arm snapped out, moving to pat Keeka on the shoulder. A friendly gesture, just one made somewhat rapidly. Keeka¡¯s fangs were around James¡¯ forearm on a panicked reflex before he could even blink. The hood falling back from around his crooked antenna, revealing thick whiskers and black fur that was getting healthier by the day. And also teeth that could gnaw through bone, and a corrosive blue saliva, currently coming into contact with James¡¯ arm. To his credit, Keeka jerked back with a frantic whine as soon as he tasted James¡¯ blood. But the sleeve of James¡¯ shirt was a complete write off, the poor polyester blend shredded and burned to tatters in the wake of the sudden strike. Keeka pressed himself back against the far wall away from James, while James just rubbed at his arm, wincing at the welling spots of blood where the teeth had cut into him, the cuts already starting to clot. ¡°Ow.¡± He said placidly. ¡°You¡¯re not a monster.¡± James said quietly, but loud enough to be heard over Keeka¡¯s muttering loop of the word ¡®no¡¯. He didn¡¯t react as footsteps started slapping on the tile, people running toward them. Instead, he just took a half step forward and offered an open hand. ¡°It¡¯s not the end of the world for someone who¡¯s scared to lash out.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s okay, okay? I¡¯m not mad at you, and I¡¯m not mad at them. I pushed too fast, that¡¯s all.¡± Keeka stared up at him with wide eyes, practically his whole body trembling. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ you¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m sorry.¡± He kept repeating, breath running out as he fell into a stammer, biology not up to the task of hyperventilating. But James didn¡¯t back away or run or yell or anything, really. Just stood there, holding out a hand, waiting patiently. And eventually, he caught his breath, and, still shaking, reached out to take it. ¡°Would you like a hug?¡± James asked, and Keeka didn¡¯t answer except to shove his body against the sturdier form of the human, James awkwardly holding his arm out a bit so as not to smear blood all over Keeka¡¯s hoodie. And then Deb¡¯s voice interrupted the moment, her tone disapproving, and while she wasn¡¯t yelling, her words filled the hall with an absolute authority over this part of the building. ¡°James Fucking Lyle!¡± She opened with, and in that moment James knew true fear. ¡°We have fucking talked about this! What did I say about using dramatic gestures to make conversational points in my goddamn hospital!?¡± ¡°¡­Don¡¯t?¡± James said, optimistic that answering properly would get him out of this. Then, in a whisper to the creature who was still hugging his chest, ¡°Keeka, you have a telepad, right? Help.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you da-!¡± Deb¡¯s voice cut off. As it turned out, Keeka did have a telepad on him. Of course, after that, there was a conversation about the importance of taking responsibility, and how even when he was making jokes about running away, James didn¡¯t actually just bail out that often, especially when it was something personal that mattered. Then James still had to go back to get his new arm wound properly disinfected, and to apologize to Deb, and to help clean up the hallway he¡¯d bled on. Someone else actually would have done that, but James did feel bad, and didn¡¯t want to make fresh work for someone with his dumb dramatic gesture. But he still appreciated how the skittish ratroach hadn¡¯t even hesitated to teleport them away. It gave him a nice emotional break before he went through the whole thing again with the third ratroach they¡¯d rescued. Chapter 203 ¡°I¡¯m gonna throw this out there; I think I¡¯d trust an evolved AI more than a designed one. I dunno who designed that AI! But I feel a deep kinship with one that, like me, evolved from complete nonsense and uses a VPN to avoid getting caught doing stuff.¡± -Jordan Holmes, Knowledge Fight (Episode 722, Space Capitalism Is Still Capitalism)- _____ ¡°Hedgehog.¡± James thought to himself forcefully. He was lounging against a wall in one of the basements, sort of killing time while people gathered for a small commencement ceremony. About a dozen people were here already, with a handful of Karen¡¯s Recovery staff bustling around making things look nice and making sure no one tripped over anything they really shouldn¡¯t. It was a nice, busy scene, and he had literally nothing to do with it this time, which was also nice. So he hung off to the side, pressed somewhat uncomfortably against the smooth concrete, acting as living terrain for the mock duel Rufus and Ganesh were having with some of the construction scraps they¡¯d recovered, and that James had ensured were sufficiently non-stabby enough before they started playing. ¡°Hedgehog.¡± He thought again, curling his fingers. It didn¡¯t work. So far, nothing had worked. It was kind of frustrating, actually. There were, in the scope of the dungeons that the Order worked with, some pretty obscure and dumb magics. And often times, dungeons seemed to go out of their way to give ¡®explanations¡¯ that purposefully did not tell you what the hell was going on. Officium Mundi¡¯s skill orbs, for example, were sort of straightforward. Except for how a ¡®skill rank¡¯ was sort of impossible to measure; and that they could also be used to make life, or extend your body¡¯s operational time, and neither of those were anywhere on the packaging. The Akashic Sewer, weirdly, had one of the more direct magics. You learned things, you got stat upgrades. It even let you check your progress, which was nice. It was a weird contrast for that horrible place to be marginally helpful, when compared to Clutter Ascent, where the relationsticks it rewarded opened connections that then needed a shared emotional moment that then enabled zero-sum passing of an abstract concept between people. All explained in maybe five words total. Or the Climb, where there was no indication that spell slots existed until you earned one, and it was pure luck the Order had found the textbooks to fill those slots. Or Route Horizon, where actually acquiring magic required piecing together fragments of discovered maps from parts of the world that were sometimes less than a square mile in area, desperately hoping that some of them lined up, and then still needing a separate source of power on top of that to use the spells. All very frustrating. But at least, with those, once you had them, you had them. As of a day or so ago, depending on how ¡®time¡¯ had been going when he wasn¡¯t paying attention, James had a rank in hedgehog. Four toed hedgehog, specifically. He had looked up what that meant, and while his understanding of taxonomy was lacking, he was pretty sure he had the gist of it. But he¡¯d also asked for a copy of a taxonomy skill orb, if anyone found one, just to be sure. And his rank in hedgehog didn¡¯t seem to do anything. It didn¡¯t appear to let him turn into a hedgehog, which was what the part of his brain that never stopped thinking about the young adult book series Animorphs had demanded. It didn¡¯t, as far as he could tell, give him any practical hedgehog facts; and if it had, he probably would have noticed his Akashic Sewer lesson in biology spike upward, like with the Office orbs that gave knowledge. It didn¡¯t make him hedgehog-esque, either. Though James didn¡¯t know what that would even look like, so maybe it did, and he just couldn¡¯t tell. Granted, James hadn¡¯t had a lot of time to screw around with it. He¡¯d been busy. Everyone had, really. It occurred to him that the most time he¡¯d spent with his partners lately had been risking their lives together in a dungeon. He relaxed his hand with a sigh, trying not to flinch as Ganesh slapped into his calf and crawled around the back of his leg to use as cover in the ongoing running playfight with Rufus. He¡¯d need to spend some more time trying to figure this out later, though at least people in the Order smarter than him would have a shot at it once they made a copy of the collection of library orbs they¡¯d looted. He¡¯d also need to make a note to himself on his phone to maybe see if Anesh and Alanna wanted to go out to dinner tonight. ¡°Hedgehog.¡± He tried muttering out loud to himself. ¡°What?¡± Someone walking by turned their head slightly with raised eyebrows. ¡°Nothing.¡± James quickly replied, clearing his throat and getting a suspicious glance as the newer member of the Order nodded slowly and went back to what they were working on. Really, at this point, someone randomly saying activation words in the basement was probably one of the least weird things going on around here. James lounged for a bit, letting his thoughts wander for a bit as he watched the bustle intensify, and a group of people come in and find places to stand. They hadn¡¯t put together seating for this little event, and James was pretty sure that Bill and Reed hadn¡¯t actually expected that many people to show up today. But who wouldn¡¯t be interested? Especially all the people, many of them camracondas, who would be occupying these places. ¡°Hey, Marcus!¡± James perked up, flagging down the Response dispatcher who was milling around in the crowd. It wasn¡¯t that he was bored waiting, exactly, just that he was interested in a small friendly interaction while he waited. ¡°Fancy seeing you here.¡± ¡°Oh hey.¡± The younger man stopped fidgeting with the array of pins on his coat glanced over at James, shuffling to the side to get out of the main body of the growing crowd. He still stood out somewhat, standing over the camracondas in attendance, but he was feeling a bit hemmed in. ¡°Yeah, I had a couple days off, figured I¡¯d check this out, and start moving in pretty soon.¡± James blinked. ¡°Wait, how soon is this going into action?¡± He asked. ¡°Like, tomorrow?¡± Marcus half questioned. ¡°One of the design team was talking about it. As soon as the totem goes up, they¡¯re gonna do a security thing to it, and then some last checks, but the place is supposed to be ready tomorrow.¡± ¡°Well damn!¡± James nodded with appreciation. ¡°They work fast, and I absolutely do not believe this place will be ready that soon, but okay. So, you wanna live on site?¡± ¡°I work twelve hour days and the majority of my hobbies are here now anyway, since we¡¯ve got internet and a basketball court.¡± ¡°I should play more basketball.¡± James mused. ¡°Also work less! Fuck, I¡¯m not building a utopia here so that people can work all day!¡± Marcus gave a sheepish look. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t have to work that much or anything. It¡¯s just¡­ I dunno, if I don¡¯t, who will, right? Also a good chunk of that is doing news sweeps for problems we should be aware of, or, like, looking for new dungeons. Momo¡¯s got a thing she¡¯s been trying to get help with for that.¡± ¡°Marcus, my dude, you¡¯re doing a great¡­ wait, Momo¡¯s doing wh¡­ no, stay on topic¡­ a great job, but you¡¯re not doing a job that we can¡¯t hire more support for. We¡¯ve got a billion dollars, we can just grab a few more people. You used to work with the suicide prevention line, right? Got any friends we can hire?¡± There was a heavy bubble of silence that expanded out from James, broken after a very long blink and stare later by Marcus saying, ¡°We have what?¡± ¡°A billion dollars.¡± James said again. ¡°Not in income, but we¡¯re, you know, capable of doing some hiring.¡± He grinned as he shrugged, knowing damn well what he was saying. ¡°So stop working twelve hour days? I don¡¯t even work twelve hour days, and I¡¯m basically always doing something around here.¡± Marcus looked like he was having his whole metaphorical world-rug yanked out from under him, but whatever he was going to say was cut off, when over the light murmuration of the small crowd of Order members, a single confident voice cut through. ¡°Alright, everyone settle down!¡± Bill said, the man raising one yeti-like arm over his head to get everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°If you wanted to see the place before we do this, you missed your chance! Everyone back behind the lines!¡± Feet and corded tails shifted, as everyone checked to make sure there weren¡¯t any lines anywhere near them. Duct tape barricades drawn in red lines on the concrete floor of the basement space pushed back the few dozen observers. They formed a semicircular sort of observation line, everyone rearranging so the camracondas were in front and the taller humans behind them. The floor space cleared, there was a much better view of what everyone had arrived to check out. Against the left wall of the concrete basement warehouse room, taking up half the height available and a decent chunk of floor space, was an apartment. It sat looking bizarre exposed under the white LED lights the Order had upgraded the buzzing fluorescents to down here. Like seeing someone you were familiar with naked for the first time. Or, more accurately, like seeing someone you were familiar with¡¯s skeleton for the first time. There were some small gaps in the walls, and James knew there were similar ports in the ceiling and floor. Points for where pipes and wires would connect when this was done. The walls didn¡¯t outline a perfect square, but they were a fractal, in a broad way, if you looked at it through the lens of the math James refused to do but the design team had put a lot of work into. It wasn¡¯t huge, as far as apartments went, but it was comfortable. The design team hadn¡¯t had to build a whole apartment complex, just one apartment, and they¡¯d put their collective passion into polishing it to a shine. Bill stepped to the side as Reed approached, the younger man unable to hide his nervous excitement. The two of them moved to show the thing that was mounted to the foundation of the building with meter thick steel rods; a set of etched-copper pyramids, inactive totems for the orange orbs. ¡°I¡¯m gonna say this once, and then I¡¯m not gonna make any more speeches.¡± Bill said bluntly, though he couldn¡¯t hide the pride in his voice. ¡°Everyone did a fucking great job on this. So if Reed blows it up, I want you to know what you missed out on.¡± ¡°Now hang on!¡± Reed started to protest, getting a stifled laugh from James, and a few other people he could hear. ¡°Oh, it¡¯ll work.¡± Bill said. ¡°So! We¡¯re gonna turn this thing on, and then Mark has the fun job of checking all the wiring, and we¡¯ve got safety checks... Got a whole list of new jobs for the next month. Hah. But that¡¯s tomorrow Bill¡¯s problem! Today, I get to tell you that everyone worked their asses off to build you a magical apartment. Round of applause for the crew; they know who they are.¡± The humans clapped, so did some of the camracondas that had arm packs on, but many of them just added clicking hisses to the mix. The noise was earnest and celebratory, and James joined in, grinning as the people who¡¯d put the hard work in gave proud smiles. ¡°Okay. Everyone ready?¡± Reed asked when things quieted down. ¡°No one over the li¡­ Bill, you can¡¯t be over the line either.¡± ¡°You¡¯re over the line.¡± ¡°I¡¯m accounted for, and we¡¯re not using drones for this.¡± Reed countered. ¡°Last time we did that I exploded.¡± James bit his tongue to keep from adding that Reed had also turned his car into modern art. Getting that taken to a junkyard had been a nightmare. ¡°Alright! Main totem in three, two, one¡­¡± Reed, standing in a very specific spot, let the orange Officium Mundi orb he was holding slip from his cupped hands and into the hollow point of the central pyramid. It fell, out of sight, and everyone held their breath. For a half second of time, the air in James¡¯ chest pulled down, except down was a point in space a hundred feet away on the left side of the room. And then the world changed. James had never seen an orange totem activate before. He¡¯d survived being inside one when it was broken, seen plenty of their effects firsthand, but he¡¯d never actually watched one of the tests as the Order¡¯s Research division turned one on. It was anticlimactic, in a way. One second, the world was as it was. The next, it was as it was, only things had changed. The left wall of the warehouse was now no longer a wall, exactly. Instead, it was a row of apartments, the cozy two bedroom spaces unfolding one after the other, fitting into each other like puzzle pieces. There were¡­ a lot of them. Just how many, James couldn¡¯t easily count, as the literally identical styles blended together in his eyes. But they absolutely stretched far beyond the reaches of the room they were in. And yet, fit perfectly. ¡°Good?¡± Reed called, and got affirmations from the Research team that was nearby monitoring the situation. ¡°Okay. Next step.¡± He repeated his countdown, this time over one of the smaller pyramids that seemed tethered to the main one. James didn¡¯t have time to be surprised by this one when it yanked at his chest. It was much faster, but also much heavier, and when it cleared, there were four stories of apartments, layered on each other like they were built that way and had stood for a century. People started whooping and cheering, but apparently, the group working on this project had decided to show off, and had the budget, time, and brainpower to make it work. Another totem, and the room was suddenly wrapped in the apartments, the whole edifice surrounding the watching crowd. But far from pressing in, the space available was bowed outward, the ceiling curving up until it met itself in hyperbolic lines that hurt the eye to look at too long. Reed stepped back, leaving multiple orange totems unlit, and looked up at the wall of structure he¡¯d just manifested inside the basement of a single building. ¡°Yes!¡± Bill called over the cheers, the man¡¯s voice at seeing it all work holding a kind of relief that could not be faked. No one was allowed in, until they could secure the orange totems and make sure it wasn¡¯t a hazard. And, as Reed explained, they still had more to do in terms of setting up accessibility. Modified Penrose ramps to get to each of the doors, mostly. And then, he¡¯d made a lot of work for Bill and Mark double checking the wiring and plumbing. Totems could only do so much; you couldn¡¯t make them tighten up gaskets when you had them copy whole rooms. But it had worked. ¡°Holy crap, man, that¡¯s so cool.¡± Marcus muttered to James. ¡°Like, I knew. But seeing it¡­¡± James did some quick head math. Almost sixty units. Housing for everyone in the Order who needed or wanted it, and some left over, and there was absolutely no reason they couldn¡¯t make more. Aside from, like, PGE getting mad at them for overtaxing the local power grid, if that was a thing they could do. And they¡¯d done it in a month. With the tools the Order already had. He smiled. He was already smiling, but he refreshed the expression. There was a thought of ¡®is that all it took?¡¯, but he cut that down. This was the end product of too many close calls, too many dangerous moments. But also of years of exploration, of enabling people to take the time to test and learn and experiment with things, of building an environment where everyone could put themselves into the work they really wanted to do. This was it. The foothold he¡¯d been missing for a while. And he couldn¡¯t wait to see what came next. _____ On a practical level, what came next was that he¡¯d promised JP that he¡¯d be helping out with scouting the local organizational landscape. James¡¯ job at the Order, despite nominally being the person who¡¯d founded it, was kind of hard to explain. On the one hand, he was part of their increasingly structured and strategic division that explored dungeons and brought out wonders that the Order could make use of. That was simple. On the other hand, he also flitted from department to department. He wasn¡¯t the only one who did something like that, but James really elevated the art of being a human bookmark. He¡¯d be helping raise a paper drake one day, picking up a Response shift the next, doing interviews that same evening, and then staying late to just talk to people who needed to be heard. In a way, his role was critical, as he acted as a go between for every different project and idea and magic. And on the other other hand, he also had a much more defined duty as a problem solver and decision maker during crisis events. The executive voice that made a call and enacted a plan when a fast reaction was needed and there were people in danger. The three different hands - James imagined his job was a ratroach in this situation - all complimented each other, too. Experience as an adventurer taught him how to fight and gave him a set of magical tools, experience being backup on every project in the building gave him more mundane knowledge, personal connections, and practice applying his weird magics, and then the responsibility of being a designated problem solver gave him the status and understanding of the rest of the Order to be in a position to be a sort of wandering drifter. Today, his job was something he hadn¡¯t actually taken part in before. Mostly because, of the Order¡¯s divisions, the Rogues didn¡¯t feel quite like something James knew about the inner workings of. Sometimes they were around, a lot of them were also delvers, and every now and then Nate or JP would show up to James and say they¡¯d found something. But the actual distance between the searching and the finding wasn¡¯t something he was familiar with. So far, he wasn¡¯t liking it. ¡°I¡¯ve been sitting here for two hours.¡± James said in a low mutter. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I¡¯m bored. But.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re bored. Don¡¯t talk to yourself.¡± Ben¡¯s voice came through the earpiece James was wearing. A mundane earpiece even. James knew they had one that let you listen in on other people¡¯s playlists within a few feet or something. He could have a soundtrack for this. Ben was a Rogue, and a pretty good one as far as James knew. It wasn¡¯t like anyone really had a comparison for how good their field agents were compared to a national intelligence agency of a global superpower or anything, but Ben had once managed to evade capture from an armed soldier who could run through walls, and honestly, that was all the resume James needed from someone. He¡¯d just sort of imagined when JP asked him to help out that he¡¯d be doing more of the life-or-death thing, and less sitting around. ¡°Oh god.¡± He muttered, coming to a realization. ¡°Am I turning into some kind of adrenaline junkie?¡± ¡°Apparently.¡± Ben answered the question that wasn¡¯t directed at him. James didn¡¯t roll his eyes, since his backup couldn¡¯t see him anyway, but he did lower his voice and reply. ¡°You know, the last Ben I met was a literal dungeon ghost who ate my food.¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°The last James I met got arrested for selling meth in junior year.¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± ¡°I feel like you¡¯re not taking this seriously.¡± He was drinking from a water bottle that had long since gone warm, trying to project that he was waiting for someone, and scanning random faces that passed with the copy of the magical glasses that let him see someone¡¯s name and affiliation. He sighed and flipped his bottle, the remaining liquid making the toss wobble with obfuscated momentum. ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m not taking it seriously.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s that I could be doing anything else right now that was just waiting for random chance.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an important part of the process.¡° Ben said in his ear. And James believed him. He really did. But sitting on a downtown bus bench during a heat wave wasn¡¯t really his idea of a fun day. Also James kind of hated cities. They felt cramped, industrialized, dirty, and full of unpredictable and potentially dangerous people. He was aware of the mild hypocrisy, he really was, in his desire to build a magical metropolis. But explicitly he wanted to build a better city, that could ease the problems that a great many modern Earth cities experienced. Especially American ones. ¡°You know, the hardest part about learning how to design a city¡­¡± James started. ¡°Really trying to verify the presence of a bunch of wizards in the city, dude.¡± Ben cut him off. ¡°Look, we¡¯re one of three teams, and we¡¯ve got an organic program trawling through traffic cams, and someone got roped into testing the potion that makes a person luckier, and also I¡¯m cursed. So one way or another, our fate is already sealed.¡± He replied easily. ¡°This would be easier if we could just stick the glasses on a drone and deploy a bunch of those.¡± Ben¡¯s sigh was the last bit of attempted stoic professionalism leaving the conversation. ¡°The cops around here keep knocking out drones. Which, I mean, can¡¯t really blame ¡®em. Also we can¡¯t break magic items, can we?¡± ¡°Momo can.¡± James said, pausing to give a friendly nod and smile to a couple young passers by who were giving him weird looks as he talked to himself. Being a local weirdo wasn¡¯t even close to something James was worried about right now, though as they sped up to walk past, he swept them with the glasses. Somehow he didn¡¯t think he had anything to worry about from a pair of teenagers whose strongest affiliation was to a church youth group. James glared up at the sky as he continued talking, hoping his sunscreen would hold against the local star¡¯s assault. ¡°Momo¡¯s weird though. I think she might actually be a witch. She somehow chopped off enough of that cactus pot that it would fit in the copier, and she¡¯s been really smug about it ever since.¡± Ben¡¯s reply took a few seconds, probably because he was also checking something. James took the quiet moment to glance over the mostly empty street, IDing a few people getting out of their car down the street as electricians for a local company, someone watering their plants on a condo patio a half dozen blocks away as a dog sitter, and the guy walking with his head down reading something on his phone as a college student. Just people. No wizard cabals or secret government agencies or mad demigods. Just normal people doing normal people things, while it happened to be roughly thirty two degrees out. ¡°Okay.¡± Ben¡¯s voice returned. ¡°What were you saying about cities or something?¡± ¡°See, you¡¯re bored too.¡± James accused him. ¡°Has this kind of scouting ever actually worked for us?¡± He suddenly asked. ¡°Like, I know we¡¯ve had luck identifying some stuff with AI, and we¡¯ve got that weird orrery thing in the basement now, but does this work?¡± There was a long enough awkward pause that James felt like he knew the answer. But his backup still explained anyway. ¡°It¡¯s more that we¡¯re an early warning system.¡± Ben said, cleanly hiding that he probably also thought this wasn¡¯t a great idea. ¡°If we actually have a starting point, we can do the sort of thing you probably think we do. Investigation, survailance, cultivating contacts, whatever. But it¡¯s not like there¡¯s a spreadsheet for this.¡± ¡°Right, I know the theory. JP workshopped this with me.¡± James sighed and wiped sweat off his forehead. ¡°I¡¯m asking if it¡¯s ever worked.¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Ben answered. ¡°Man, I don¡¯t think this is helping.¡± ¡°It¡¯s good practice.¡± ¡°For what?!¡± James demanded, the louder voice getting a slight jump from the guy walking past his bench in what had to be the least comfortable leather trenchcoat. James checked with the glasses, and got back a primary affiliation of Reddit user, which just made him depressed in addition to hot. ¡°¡­Fieldwork?¡± Ben asked. James took a deep breath, choked on the disel fumes of a delivery truck rolling by, and stood up. Dusted off the seat of his shorts. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go strangle JP.¡± He half-joked. ¡°Or maybe just stand in the walk-in fridge in the kitchen. But I¡¯m done with this. I¡¯ll get Momo to make us some affiliation lenses, and we can slap ¡®em on all the webcams we¡¯re stealing the feeds of or something. How¡¯s that sound?¡± ¡°Like a terrible idea because then wouldn¡¯t anyone else who has access to those see the same thing?¡± Ben asked. James slunk back into the shade of a red and white striped awning over a little bookstore, and fished around in his pockets for the thick notebook of Anesh¡¯s newly made telepad. ¡°There, cutting off my stupid ideas is suitable training for today. You¡¯re free too.¡± ¡°¡­Yeah, okay.¡± _____ James sat on a beanbag in a small room in the Order¡¯s basement that was probably originally intended as either an office, or a jail cell, or both. Currently, it was neither of those things, and was a camraconda room. The Lair had a lot of space in it, even before the events of the early afternoon where a belligerent construction wizard carved out an entire apartment complex inside a single room of one of their basements. And they put that space to good use, generally. This magical basement that existed sideways from normal space was largely set aside for housing. Something that actually maybe should have worried James, when he considered just how many safety tests and precautions the design team was using for modifying one room, but he¡¯d kind of gotten used to space not lining up properly, so maybe he wasn¡¯t the person to ask about security. A lot of the rooms down here were set up as bedrooms, relying on the facilities of the rest of the building for things like making food, but they were still cozy and many of them had permanent residents who had decided that living in the Lair was nice, actually. Or people who had nowhere else to go. Often both at once. And then there were a bunch of rooms that were modified to be well suited to the camraconda population of the Order. A lot of them didn¡¯t really need or want their own bedrooms, instead preferring a design that had been settled on of a kind of two-floor nest, where they could curl up and sleep in piles. Other rooms near the sleeping nests were converted to cubbies to hold personal effects, and a couple small relaxation areas that were made to be easy for camracondas to access and feel comfortable in. Which was the room they were in now. Beanbags for seating wasn¡¯t uncommon, but the low mounted brace points on the walls where camracondas could plug in their own vocal speakers or an arm pack if they didn¡¯t have help was. Also the pile of yellow orbs that were here for food for the dungeon creatures, if they ever needed emergency energy. James settled himself in, trying a dozen configurations for his legs before just giving up and accepting that his knees were gonna hurt later. ¡°Alright.¡± He told the camracondas he was spending some time with. ¡°Where do we even start on this?¡± Coiled on their own seats around the room were a handful of the Order¡¯s most common nonhuman species. Thought-Of-Quiet occupied another beanbag, blue and grey cables almost blending into the black fake fur of the seat. Scent-Of-Rain was perched upright nearby, her own triangular camera head looking like a bony ridge wrapped in her darker blue cabels. And then, sprawled out over several soft seats and jolting awake as the conversation started, Watcher-Under-Stone, the semi-leader of the camraconda¡¯s main pseudo-religion, her own dull white and orange colors in more of a blended swirl than the others. They¡¯d invited a few others, but Frequency-Of-Sunlight and Deb were doing something this evening, Color-Of-Dawn insisted on being self-depreciating, and Texture-Of-Barkdust said something about taking a nap while allowing Karen to use her mind as secondary processing hardware, which James was going to have check up on. ¡°We start at the start.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said simply. ¡°You see a problem.¡± ¡°A problem we disagree upon!¡± Watcher-Under-Stone said, rolling slightly and using her snout to nudge the speaker she was wearing as a necklace out from under her to where her artificial voice would be less muffled. ¡°But a problem.¡± James sighed. ¡°Okay, so, I¡¯ve talked to a lot of different camracondas about this in bits and pieces, but I feel like we should get this out in the open.¡± He said. ¡°Cultural coherency. As in, like, here, now, in the face of this multi-species world we¡¯re frantically throwing together, how much does a given camraconda have a culture that is similar to every other given camraconda, but dissimilar from a given member of any other¡­ species? Humans, mostly, for now. And specifically Order humans, since that¡¯s where our cultures abut.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet answered instantly. ¡°We don¡¯t.¡± He said with prideful conviction. ¡°Hum.¡± Scent-Of-Rain cut in, synthesized voice pronouncing the word in an odd cadence that she used like humans used ¡®ah¡¯ or ¡®like¡¯. ¡°But should that be the case?¡± She asked, continuing before Thought-Of-Quiet could interject. ¡°We were growing, before we were brought here. We made art. Told stories. There is a¡­ gap, now.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about.¡± James said with a nod. ¡°Your people, specifically the¡­ group of you that ¡®grew up¡¯ in Officium Mundi, you had a culture before you joined us here. And I¡¯d like to talk about what we can do to preserve that.¡± ¡°And this is where we disagree.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone nodded, pulling herself into a coil as she bobbed her head at James. ¡°You want us to be apart from you.¡± Scent-Of-Rain hissed under her speech, layering the two sounds. ¡°Yes. Bad plan. We should not lose what we were. But also, should not be separated.¡± ¡°There is a gap, there.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet used the same words she had a second ago. ¡°We can¡¯t be different and the same.¡± ¡°So, the thing is,¡± James cut in before the three of them started what was clearly a discussion that they¡¯d had before, ¡°this isn¡¯t something that¡¯s totally new to humanity. We¡¯ve got a long, long history of cultures meeting and interacting. And¡­ can I share something I¡¯m really worried about?¡± The three camracondas pivoted to look at him expectantly, lens eyes focusing on his face. ¡°It¡¯s not just that I worry about removing your connection to what you had before; I don¡¯t think that¡¯s exactly the problem. I worry that we¡¯re locking you out of contributing to what we¡¯re doing now.¡± ¡°We participate more and more each day.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said, confusedly looking between his companions. ¡°We are a part of this place.¡± ¡°Hum¡­¡± Scent-Of-Rain looked down at the floor. ¡°Are we?¡± She asked. ¡°Entirely?¡± ¡°See, that¡¯s what I wanted to talk about!¡± James said, leaning forward, trying in vain to pull his legs underneath him in a position that didn¡¯t feel like he was constantly fidgeting. ¡°Because I want you to be. But I want you to have a foundation that you can call your own, and not just¡­ I dunno, whatever we give you, or tell you is ¡®right¡¯ or whatever.¡± He sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t prepare enough for this and don¡¯t know how exactly to express my worries. Sorry, Scent-Of-Rain, did you have more to add to that? I kinda cut you off there.¡± The camraconda nodded at him. ¡°Yes. Thank.¡± She hissed out a small breath. ¡°Have been watching the new ones grow, for months.¡± Scent-Of-Rain started, reminding them that she was one of the leaders of the mixed species after school club and-or summer camp the Order had been running. ¡°For them, it is entirely. You, here, us, we are their foundation. This is good, I think. They make art, and that art is new.¡± She sounded fiercely proud as she said it. ¡°It is the first art that our children make together. But it is not ours. It has more in common with yours. Different, yes, but modified human still.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone hissed in agreement. ¡°This is true. They do not have a connection to our origin. Don¡¯t understand why we believe.¡± ¡°Our of curiously,¡± James asked, worry spiking at what the answer might be, ¡°is it important to you that people believe what you do?¡± ¡°No.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone said with a laughing hiss. ¡°I am not blind. I have seen how humans believe similar things. Our belief is the fact of our personal history, nothing more.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet spoke up again. ¡°I have a question.¡± He started, focusing on James. ¡°You say ¡®culture¡¯, but that word does not mean as much to me. What does it mean to you?¡± James thought for a minute before answering. ¡°I would probably say¡­ a culture is what a population shares. At a base level. If I wanna get more complicated, then it¡¯s a recognition of certain shared tropes that tie media and art together, it¡¯s the common framework of knowledge that you can expect most people to have, and it¡¯s also shared or common customs or habits, intentional or otherwise, that exist in a society.¡± He cracked his knuckles while he takes, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna say it¡¯s also what subcultures are included, but it¡¯s certainly how and why the primary culture interacts with other cultures and subcultures.¡± He looked over at the first camraconda he¡¯d ever talked to. ¡°Does that help at all, or am I just going mad rambling?¡± ¡°It helps. I have another question.¡± The camraconda said, pushing himself upright on his beanbag to properly look at James. ¡°This is a trap, isn¡¯t it?¡± James joked. Thought-Of-Quiet nodded, head bobbing enthusiastically. ¡°Humans. From before you began changing things. You have many cultures.¡± ¡°Yup.¡± James nodded. ¡°Do you like them?¡± Though-Of-Quiet asked. James paused, suppressing a wince. ¡°That¡¯s¡­complicated? There¡¯s a lot of human history that has used cultural clashes as excuses for cruelty and violence, so I¡¯m kind of not comfortable saying ¡®no¡¯? Also, a lot of modern cultures have a huge amount they could learn from each other in terms of art and style and healthy lifestyle habits and food, god especially food¡­¡± James trailed off. ¡°But do you like them.¡± The question was repeated flatly. ¡°No.¡± James¡¯ face was a sad frown as he said it. ¡°Not really. They all have problems. And I could talk about a lot of those problems for a loooong time. I don¡¯t really want to be part of any of them, even ¡®mine¡¯. Kinda the point of trying to make a break with our own city-thing. Though even then, I¡¯m not stupid enough to think history won¡¯t creep its way in.¡± Scent-Of-Rain jerked back slightly, giving James a look that seemed quite sad. ¡°Oh¡­¡± her voice not changed much but the word carrying a lot of weight. ¡°Yes.¡± Though-Of-Quiet pressed. ¡°You do not like your culture. You want a better one. You invite us to be part of it, but feel guilty. But you didn¡¯t think to ask; do I like my culture?¡± The camraconda slithered off his seat and pulled himself up in front of James, corded body matching the seated human¡¯s height. ¡°Our habits are fear, and hiding. Our art is a reminder of our pain. Our¡­ our culture exists because of an unbreachable violence done to us before we were even made, and done to others by ourselves. Did you want to ask, if we wanted our culture? I will answer. I do not.¡± ¡°We cannot forget-¡° Watcher-Under-Stone started to say. But she was cut off by Scent-Of-Rain. ¡°Sad. Everyone is sad. None of us have what we want, but we don¡¯t know what we want.¡± She looked around at them. ¡°You want to remember,¡± she told the priestess, ¡°you want to move on,¡± she told Thought-Of-Quiet, ¡°and you want to be kind.¡± She said to James. ¡°I want us to be our own people. I thought. But you seem so sad¡­¡± She looked at James. ¡°This is how humans are sad, yes?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± He admitted. ¡°Well, me, anyway. I had this whole thing I was going to talk about, about how other humans from other facets of our various cultures, might be different, or treat you different, or whatever. But¡­ like¡­ yeah, I¡¯m not sure what my point was.¡± ¡°I have the point.¡± Scent-Of-Rain said. ¡°You think you can do better than other humans. But there are so many, it is abstract to you. You take ideas, separate from people, and use them to build¡­ here.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet spoke softly, not really interrupting. ¡°Here is good.¡± ¡°Yes, it is.¡± Scent-Of-Rain agreed. ¡°James wants it to be good. Steals good ideas from books, and stories. Because books and stories are not people. But you do not want to do that to us, because we are here.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone irised her lens, focusing and unfocusing on the room. ¡°Ah.¡± She spoke. ¡°I have begun research.¡± James blinked at her before she tilted her head to show the wi-fi braid connected to her skulljack. ¡°I begin to see the shape of what you fear.¡± ¡°I mean, I¡¯ll just fuckin¡¯ tell you.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re going to pave over anything that makes you who you are. I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ll tell you we¡¯ve got the best way of doing things, and refuse to learn from you, and refuse to adapt.¡± ¡°But you are not doing that.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet hissed angrily. ¡°You writhe in self-depreciation, and you ignore that even where we disagree, we want to be here. You invite to live side by side. Scent-Of-Rain sees our new ones making art tainted by your outside world, but I see them making art shaped by our Order. We eat together, we love together. You take the time to talk to us now, to make sure you are respecting us, and push aside the thought that this means you already know the answer.¡± He glared at James, camera eye narrowing to a pinpoint spot. ¡°You will not make us forget our past. You will not make us unequal in value in your new culture. All that matters, to me, this. Told you before, once. You won our conflict of ideas. False thoughts, anything but that.¡± Scent-Of-Rain spoke into the quiet that followed in the small room. ¡°But James is not all wrong.¡± She said, ignoring James¡¯ small ¡®hey!¡¯ at the implication. ¡°The new ones are not like us. In many ways.¡± ¡°Should they be?¡± Watcher-Under-Stone asked curiously, as if having the thought for the first time. ¡°Want them to know our history, but¡­ not because it is ours, only that it is important. That they can learn from it. Is that not what we want? All to learn, and be better?¡± ¡°I mean, that¡¯s what I think is important.¡± James shrugged, feeling like he was more of an observer in the actual debate happening here. ¡°Yes.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet hissed with amusement. ¡°You do. And so, we do. You see? What point is having a culture, if you do not believe it is good?¡± ¡°I feel like I walked into this expecting that we¡¯d talk about, like, making a record of your people¡¯s history, maybe ensuring that your art styles had support, and seeing what we could do to encourage you to develop your own social norms.¡± James started to say. ¡°And then, instead, I¡¯m having an existential crisis on the nature of what a society is even for.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet titled his head at James. ¡°Is that not something you feel constantly? Is that not what the Order is?¡± ¡°Oh, I mean, it is. It¡¯s just usually a background vibe, not something¡­ uh¡­this direct.¡± James rolled himself to a standing position, and started pacing. ¡°I just want you all to feel like you can be¡­ you. If that makes sense. Without worrying about your cultural identities being overwritten. A lot of people worry about that. I know Texture-Of-Barkdust had a lot of concerns, though I dunno if she¡¯s replaced those with being concerned about budgets instead.¡± ¡°I would rather,¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said softly, staring at the floor, ¡°be a part of the Order of Endless Rooms, than I would be a camraconda.¡± The other two serpents looked at him with concern, before looking at each other with similar looks in their mechanical eyes. ¡°Watcher-Under-Stone asked, should the new ones be like us. I would ask farther. Should I be like us? We should all ask that.¡± ¡°I ask that all the time, actually.¡± James said. Thought-Of-Quiet cracked their mechanical maw in a fanged grin. ¡°Yes.¡± He said. ¡°That is part of why you have started building something I like.¡± The camraconda turned, and began to slither for the door. ¡°I have nothing to add. I have made many mistakes. But this is not one of them.¡± And with that, he pressed his body against the lever that popped the door open, and slithered out into the hallway, letting it swing closed behind him. ¡°That went well.¡± Scent-Of-Rain remarked. ¡°He does not like his name.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone told James abruptly. James blinked at her. ¡°Wait, really?¡± He said, tapping his foot as he considered the words. ¡°I mean¡­ I guess that sorta checks out. He was having a really hard time coming up with one. He thought¡­ he thought it was important to the rest of you, honestly.¡± ¡°Hum.¡± Scent-Of-Rain hiss sighed. ¡°It was.¡± She said bluntly. ¡°Now, I am not sure it should be. Why are no humans named like us?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± James scratched at the back of his neck. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not our¡­ cultural convention, I guess.¡± But then he held up a hand and added, ¡°Though, that said, there¡¯s people - humans, dammit - in the Order now who are using different names than anyone is used to. I legitimately did not think that the girl who wanted to be called Thermoclese would stick with that. And I figure it¡¯s only a matter of time before someone decides they want a name like yours. Are¡­ are you okay with that? We could probably make sure that doesn¡¯t happen, if you want.¡± Scent-Of-Rain slithered forward and butted the top of her head into James¡¯ side in a friendly motion. ¡°You are so worried.¡± She said. ¡°I think I was wrong. I think it is okay, that we move on, from who we were. But I would like to share more. I think I will teach the new humans how to make our art.¡± She nodded to herself. ¡°The new humans do not have fangs.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone pointed out. ¡°Oh.¡± Scent-Of-Rain stopped, as if she had forgotten that detail, head tilting down to the floor dejectedly. ¡°Well. We can adapt.¡± Then she looked up at James again. ¡°Does Research have shaper substance available for safe use yet?¡± ¡°Oh my god please do not give the kids fangs.¡± James swiped a hand over his face. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know how to explain this. Uh¡­ please do not do that!¡± The camraconda just replied with a sly smile. ¡°Hum.¡± She said simply, before turning to head for the door herself. ¡°Well. We will speak more later. I cannot be late.¡± ¡°I will excuse myself as well.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone said, and James moved to hold the door for them both. Then he had a thought. ¡°Oh!¡± He said, getting a pause from the two serpents. ¡°What¡­ do you know, what did Thought-Of-Quiet want to be called? Did he ever say, to either of you?¡± Watcher-Under-Stone bobbed her upper body in a long nod. ¡°He did, yes.¡± She told them. ¡°He wanted to be named James.¡± She said. And then, before James could protest, she slipped out the door and down the hallway. Chapter 204 ¡°People often accuse me of tearing up tradition, but what is tradition, apart from peer pressure from dead people?¡± -Magid Magid, The Art of Disruption: A Manifesto For Real Change- _____ ¡°I talked to some of the more leader-y camracondas yesterday.¡± James spoke softly as he got dressed in the bedroom he shared with his partners. A bout of interior design had¡­ occurred¡­ over the last month or two, leaving the bedroom much more a bedroom than a cramped mess. James had finally just given in and moved his desk over to the other bedroom that was now sans-bed, making a little den for him and Anesh to work or relax in. There was a mild lack of privacy, sort of, but it didn¡¯t feel that way. And also James was barely ever home anyway. He was pretty sure Rufus used the computer more often than he did. Fuck, he was pretty sure Auberdeen used the computer more often than he did. It had made room to put a bigger bed in here. One that could fit all of them, even when there were one or two extra Anesh. Not that they were even close to on the same sleep schedule, but that just meant James could sprawl out even more when he slept alone. He was trying to be better about sprawling. During a therapy session last week, Lua had pointed out to him that he didn¡¯t just slouch so much as he tried to hide himself by compressing down, and that wasn¡¯t healthy either mentally or physically. Especially not physically. James was still going strong, but the cumulative damage of a bunch of small injuries added up, and some scars never stopped hurting. James realized he¡¯d been spacing out as Anesh said something to him. His boyfriend was currently laying in their newly upsized bed, gently rubbing Alanna¡¯s back as she napped. And he¡¯d said something James hadn¡¯t actually heard. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± James shook himself as he finished pulling a shirt over his head and started looking for a pair of cargo shorts that would do nothing to protect him from the ninety degree sunshine outside. ¡°I asked what about. Are you alright?¡± Anesh gave him a look of concern, shifting up onto an elbow to look at James. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± James murmured the soft lie, not wanting to wake their girlfriend. ¡°Uh¡­ oh, camracondas. Right. We were talking about cultural integration and stuff.¡± He rubbed a hand on his face, resisting the urge to sit on the edge of the bed, a fate from which he knew he would not escape from for a while. ¡°You know, I¡¯m doing a lot of reading and learning about things like government and civic engineering and everything, and it¡¯s all pretty straightforward. We might not have, like, the best answers? But civilization has a lot of research and historical data that can be used to avoid specific problems. We just kind of don¡¯t. I mean, the collective we.¡± Anesh gave him a smile as he rolled to the end of the bed to look up at James, goosebumps forming over his naked form as he abandoned the blankets and threw himself into the apartment¡¯s air conditioning. ¡°You¡¯re sidetracking.¡± He said with amusement. ¡°Right. So¡­ that¡¯s very distracting¡­¡± James grinned down at Anesh, who rolled his eyes at his boyfriend and also started getting up to get dressed. ¡°So, there¡¯s problems and solutions there. And then there¡¯s a single question about ¡®culture¡¯, and it feels like it all falls apart. Like, what, exactly, is a culture? Ten billion people have been arguing about this across history, and we don¡¯t have a good answer, and I¡¯m just absolutely drowning in anxiety that I¡¯ll destroy someone¡¯s traditions by building what I project as a utopia.¡± ¡°Nnnnnnanxiety¡­¡± The ¡®word¡¯ came from Alanna in a sleepy drawl as she flailed one arm at James. ¡°No, no anxiety.¡± He said with a smile, circling over to the side of the bed kiss her forehead. ¡°Go back to sleep.¡± The he glanced at Anesh. ¡°Wanna go on a walk so we don¡¯t wake her?¡± ¡°Sure. Let me get pants.¡± ¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s fine, I don¡¯t mind.¡± James answered with a wide grin, stifling a laugh as Anesh scowled him out of the room. Ten minutes later, Anesh joined him in the living room, walking in brushing his hair back - he decided he needed another haircut, maybe Momo could loan him whatever dungeontech she obviously used - as he spoke a little louder. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m ready to-¡° He trailed off as he saw James on the couch, talking to the dog. ¡°¡­the stuff is useful, but not wholly safe. And it gets safer if you¡¯ve got a firm knowledge of what biology you¡¯re working with. Which is why I don¡¯t have organic sonar in my ass yet, even though I would totally do that.¡± James said, while Auberdeen, their massive white ball of fur masquerading as a living creature, watched him politely. She let out a low woof with a jerk of her head, as if urging him to continue. ¡°Right. So, we don¡¯t have anyone who¡¯s qualified to teach you. Deb¡¯s busy, Amy¡¯s¡­ well, maybe Amy? Anyway. No orbs for it.¡± James waved at Anesh as he caught sight of him putting his shoes on, while Anesh wondered how a dog could look so disappointed. ¡°That said,¡± James continued, standing from the couch, ¡°how would you feel about auditing a college course or two? There¡¯s a veterinary school around here, and I¡¯m sure we could get you into a few biology courses at PSU or something.¡± Auberdeen woofed excitedly, while Anesh processed those words. ¡°Wait, hang on¡­¡± He started to protest. ¡°What?¡± James asked. ¡°There are no rules that say-¡° ¡°Don¡¯t you Air Bud me!¡± Anesh crossed his arms over his chest. ¡°How would she get there safely? How would she take notes? This is not a well thought out plan!¡± ¡°See, you¡¯re gonna make her feel like her dads are fighting.¡± James held his hands out dramatically to frame the dog curled up on the couch. Aberdeen briefly ducked her head forward, laying crossed paws on her snout like she was hiding from them, before quickly abandoning the position. ¡°Also I totally thought this out. Skulljack things.¡± ¡°That can¡¯t be your answer to everything.¡± Anesh said, and then sighed. ¡°Even if¡­ that is a great answer to everything. Wait, wasn¡¯t the point of this that she¡­ sorry Auberdeen, that you want to be able to talk?¡± Their dog woofed in the affirmative, paws tapping forward with excitement. ¡°Doesn¡¯t a skulljack just fix that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s less reliable, as we¡¯ve seen with the camracondas. And a lot of them already want to get reshaped to have natural voices. Deb¡¯s still doing trials, and wants to bring in a lot of professional consultation first though.¡± James answered. ¡°But then she¡¯ll have a skulljack. Do you want a skulljack?¡± He asked Auberdeen. The furred girl on the couch shook her head. Well, her whole body, really, but it was obviously a no. And then she woofed twice more, trying to convey something. ¡°See?¡± James said, like he understood that. ¡°Besides, she can just get rid of it with the shaper treatment anyway.¡± ¡°Is¡­ that an option?¡± Anesh asked, suddenly curious. ¡°We should find out.¡± James admitted. ¡°Anyway, yeah, Auberdeen, I¡¯ll look into that for you. Make Sarah remind me later, okay?¡± The dog woofed again. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re headed out for a bit. See you later!¡± He slipped out their front door into the afternoon sun, the shift from the cool dim interior of the apartment that had a lot of blackout curtains up to the scorching heatwave inflicted day a sudden transition that left James reeling. Anesh followed, seeming to have no such problems. Anesh gave a refreshed ¡®aahhhh¡¯ as he basked in the sunlight, while James mimicked him with a much more screamy ¡®aahhhhh¡­¡¯ as they started their walk. ¡°So, our dog is gonna go to college.¡± Anesh started. ¡°Now who¡¯s getting sidetracked?¡± James smiled back up the stairs at his partner as they descended down into the parking lot, the asphalt smelling like melting fire as the sun continued its relentless midday assault. ¡°Also she¡¯s her own dog now! Making grownup dog choices!¡± He rubbed at his chin for a second, then added, ¡°With our caring support, financial and otherwise, obviously. Anesh, are we parents? You¡¯d tell me if we were parents, right?¡± Anesh didn¡¯t answer except to laugh. They walked without talking for a little bit, avoiding the well worn process of repeating themselves as cars went by or they had to move single file to get past the apartment complex¡¯s dumpster to make their way to the walking trail they used. James was already sweating by the time they made it there. Why had he thought abandoning air conditioning was a good idea, he would never know. ¡°So, culture things.¡± Anesh refreshed him. ¡°Right.¡± James said, his emotional energy level rapidly fluctuating as the question brought him back to what was bothering him. ¡°So, they don¡¯t¡­ care. They don¡¯t care about¡­ about themselves, I guess? As a people.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh nodded, pulling at the neck of his tee shirt. ¡°Are they a people? Like, as a distinct unit? I do math, not political science.¡± He paused. ¡°Are you allowed to talk about societies as units?¡± James gave a sideways look at his boyfriend, mouth set in a line. ¡°I know for a fact you know a lot about the workings of certain subcultures, mister ¡®I accidentally used all the orbs on Vatican secrets¡¯.¡± ¡°That happened once.¡± Anesh protested. ¡°Once is literally enough.¡± James abandoned the line of friendly joking, and refocused. ¡°But really, I don¡¯t know. Are they ¡®a people¡¯? I don¡¯t even know what that means. Like, what makes being a cultural unit important, or meaningful? I¡¯m also having a lot of trouble because in ¡®normal¡¯ life, I¡¯m vehemently opposed to the idea of ethnostates, but here I am, feeling bad that the camracondas don¡¯t have unique camraconda things.¡± Anesh sympathetically laid a hand on James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°They are snakes with magical physics breaking eyes, James.¡± ¡°Unique cultural things.¡± ¡°They are snakes with-¡° ¡°Alright, alright!¡± James laughed. ¡°But I¡¯m serious! Thought-Of-Quiet, who apparently wanted¡­ well, that¡¯s not important. But he¡¯s so onboard with the idea of the Order as a shared point of collective culture, that he doesn¡¯t care if his own people¡¯s identity is eroded, and I¡¯m just legitimately not sure how to feel about that. I feel¡­ I feel like I¡¯m taking something from them, you know? Like this wasn¡¯t their choice, they were brought here without a real option, and every little thing they built up for themselves is suddenly washed away.¡± He took a deep breath, wishing the air was cooler, or refreshing in any way. Anesh thought for a second, looking off to the side of the little path and the browned grass bobbing slightly in the almost non-existent breeze. ¡°What about you?¡± He asked. ¡°What about me?¡± ¡°What do you feel, about giving up your own culture?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°That¡¯s the thing.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m not. The Order is absolutely meant to be something new and different and to make deliberate meaningful changes to how we all act in daily life, and I guess that¡¯s culture. But it¡¯s just normal for me. It is my culture, and it doesn¡¯t help that it¡¯s drowning in a sea of modern local ideas.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I wanna steal good ideas and discard ones that don¡¯t work and try new things, but I cannot ignore that I¡¯m a product of how I was raised. I can say ¡®I want to be more vulnerable¡¯ all I want, but it¡¯s a huge leap to put that into action, you know?¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°I absolutely know, yeh. I still don¡¯t really know how to be affectionate, even when we¡¯re alone.¡± ¡°Like this!¡± James said, reaching out and taking Anesh¡¯s hand as they walked, his partner flushing slightly as they walked for a bit like that, hand in hand. ¡°But seriously,¡± James said through his smile, ¡°even this, where I¡¯m grinning like this is funny - which it is to be fair - and not just something pleasant to enjoy with you, it¡¯s a form of me trying to deflect from being vulnerable. And I don¡¯t know how to turn it off easily.¡± There was a pause, before Anesh shook his hand free, the heat and skin contact making the loving gesture a little warmer and sweatier than was actually comfortable. ¡°So, the camracondas, or some of them at least, want¡­ what, to just meld into us?¡± ¡°Culturally.¡± James clarified. Then, a second later. ¡°Also maybe in other ways, I dunno, I ain¡¯t here to kink shame. But culturally at least, yes.¡± ¡°Is there a meaningful difference between ¡®culture¡¯ and ¡®tradition¡¯, or¡­ I don¡¯t know how you¡¯d say this. ¡®Species society¡¯, maybe?¡± Anesh asked. James thought for a second. ¡°I feel like culture is more of a living thing? Like, what we do now is culture, and a lot of it is informed through the lens of tradition? But I generally have a lower view of tradition than culture. The ¡®frozen yogurt¡¯ view of cosmopolitan interactions.¡± Pressing on and ignoring that painful attempt at a joke, Anesh continued. ¡°And you find this bad, because¡­ well, it¡¯s you, so I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve got some imposter syndrome going on and you don¡¯t believe that anyone should trust you with anything serious, right?¡± ¡°Hey!¡± ¡°Right?¡± James slouched without thinking about it, shoulders hitched up as he looked anywhere but at Anesh. ¡°Yeah.¡± He grumbled. ¡°This brings up something else, though.¡± Anesh said, patting James on the shoulder in a knowing way. ¡°The camracondas¡­ what do they want?¡± They came to a footbridge, stretching over a small creek and a riot of green that the hot summer hadn¡¯t been able to overwhelm. The bridge smelled like cooking wood and hot tar, and the sturdy construction thumped under their boots. James paused in their conversation to give a friendly nod at a passing dog walker, and dog, before answering. ¡°Thought-Of-Quiet and Scent-Of-Rain at least, I think, want to just¡­ be part of the Order. Or something like that. I don¡¯t know. They don¡¯t seem interested in having their own thing. And it just makes me worry.¡± ¡°Right, I wanna talk about that.¡± Anesh said. ¡°So, your plan, for the whole world, is to build a cosmopolitan utopia, somehow¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s a ways off, I admit.¡± James said sheepishly. ¡°Stow it, let me finish. Your plan, such as it is, is to build a singular unified world, under the banner of compassion, understanding, and tolerance, yes?¡± James smiled, a small little twitch of his mouth as he brightened up. ¡°I like that!¡± He said, thunking a fist into an open palm. ¡°Let¡¯s use that as the explanation from now on.¡± ¡°Explanation or no, why are you getting worried, that other people want to do the thing you want?!¡± Anesh demanded. ¡°You know, Thought-Of-Quiet said the same thing.¡± James admitted, ducking away as Anesh tried to grab him in a headlock, a move his boyfriend had learned from Alanna. ¡°Anesh, come on! I don¡¯t wanna do a colonialism! I¡¯m trying to put real thought into this!¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh took a deep breath as they finally made their way into a part of the trail where the trees were close enough to provide some much needed shade. He didn¡¯t actually need to breathe much, but the motion still felt good, and there probably wasn¡¯t a downside to keeping his blood moving. ¡°James. I love you. I really do.¡± ¡°Aw, I love you too.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re an idiot. Sometimes.¡± ¡°¡­I am reconsidering how much I love you¡­¡± James said in a tone that made it quite clear he was not even a little bit serious. Anesh swatted a mosquito away. It was rapidly replaced by one of the hundreds of others, his assault meaningless. ¡°The really funny thing here is, this is the sort of problem that only comes up if you actually care. But you skipped a step in your logic.¡± He glanced at James. ¡°You¡¯re spending all your brainpower worrying about if you¡¯re doing right by the camracondas, which is great, but in doing so, you are absolutely dismissing their own ability to have agency. To make choices. You are doing what you are afraid of, telling them that you know better. Even if you¡¯re being very you about it. And at a certain point, you¡¯re going to have to accept that if you make a place that¡¯s great to live in, people are going to want to live in it. That includes displaced artificial magical species of serpents made entirely out of cabling.¡± ¡°They actually do have internal organs.¡± James said easily, ignoring the point. ¡°Like, at the least the have lungs, and a stomach. And also primary sexual charact- okay yes!¡± He broke off as Anesh scowled at him. ¡°Yes, I get it! It just feels bad! Like they¡¯ll never get a chance to make anything themselves!¡± ¡°But they will.¡± Anesh said quietly. Almost too quietly, as they came to an intersection with a sidewalk, and their walk changed to one that had too many cars next to it. ¡°They¡¯ll make so much. With us. They get to get in on the ground floor, with no stupid hang ups about vulnerability or ethnicity or stereotypes or anything to hold them back. They¡¯re totally new, but smart enough to choose. Do you have any idea how good that must feel?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± James said, thinking about it. ¡°Me neither.¡± Anesh replied, leaning into James¡¯ shoulder as they waited for a crosswalk. ¡°But I bet it¡¯s great. Now come on, let¡¯s grab some kind of frozen drink and hope the cafe has air conditioning.¡± ¡°Wait, we weren¡¯t even going to¡­ how did we end up here?¡± James looked around at the small strip mall they¡¯d arrived at, like he hadn¡¯t been paying attention. ¡°What just happened?!¡± ¡°All our walks end up with us getting coffee. Or, at least, outside a cafe. How have you not noticed this?¡± Anesh asked. James snorted. ¡°I¡¯m very oblivious.¡± He answered honestly, as they headed toward their apparent destination. _____ Alanna found them an hour later, in the middle of an extensive discussion about applied public transit design, and the role of a government in the application of services to the common people. By the time she¡¯d gotten her own drink and sat down at their table, she¡¯d picked up that the conversation had mostly derailed into a semantic debate on what ¡®common people¡¯ did and should mean, and what the role of things like public recognition, reputation, and social power should be in a practical utopia. ¡°You guys get that the baristas here think you¡¯re insane, right?¡± She asked as she tried to rearrange her chair to where she wanted it without dragging it across the flagstone floor. ¡°Heh. Yeah. It¡¯s great.¡± James said with a casual confidence. ¡°Also hello! How was your nap? And how did you know we¡¯d be here?¡± Alanna gave him a look. ¡°Where else would you two be? I mean, aside from at the tri-weekly Order meeting that you¡¯re missing right now.¡± ¡°You are also missing it.¡± James pointed out. ¡°Also is it actually tri-weekly if it¡¯s once per three weeks? I should ask someone about that.¡± ¡°Wait.¡± Anesh interrupted. ¡°Today¡¯s meeting is about Response stuff, shouldn¡¯t at least one of you be there?¡± ¡°It¡¯s really more a lot of logistical stuff.¡± James answered easily. ¡°Talk about telepad use numbers, defining responsible boundaries for Response, budget stuff. Oh! The new telepads are great by the way, thanks Anesh for that. Thinner notepad backing, less useless cardboard per duplication, Texture-Of-Barkdust says we¡¯re getting something like another five or six hundred ports per duplication run. Progress!¡± Anesh glanced between the two of them. ¡°Thanks. But uh¡­ And you don¡¯t think¡­ maybe we should be there for this? This seems like the sort of pivotal thing that can define a huge part of who we are?¡± The motion Alanna made with her hand as she sipped at the coffee she¡¯d gotten wasn¡¯t exactly dismissive, but it was casually uninterested. ¡°Eh.¡± She said after she finished her sip. ¡°You¡¯re right, obviously. But there¡¯s about twenty people there to debate the balance between budgets and efficacy, and they don¡¯t need me or James being snarky.¡± ¡°I could be serious.¡± James offered without interrupting, tapping a finger on the side of his empty ceramic cup. ¡°And like,¡± Alanna continued unabated, ¡°here¡¯s something great about us. This whole thing. I actually trust the people who are talking? I mean, sure, I might disagree on some stuff, but I trust that they¡¯ll act in good faith, and also, I know some of them are smarter than me.¡± She shrugged. ¡°So I¡¯m here, to hang out with you two. What¡¯s up?¡± While Anesh excitedly talked to Alanna about trains - and James was pretty sure that his boyfriend had gotten a skill orb in that recently; no one was this excited about trains - he leaned back with a smile and just let the atmosphere of the room wash over him. It felt nice, to be out somewhere, just relaxing with his partners. The soft orange-yellow light of the cafe¡¯s lamps mixed with the late afternoon sun outside, and the regular hiss of the espresso machine and mixed smells of coffee and bagels left him feeling like he was wrapped in a comfortable blanket. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. His partners made it better. He wasn¡¯t totally focused, but he did follow a series of train puns as Anesh and Alanna parried and riposted in their verbal spar. It made his heart warm to see the two of them acting so comfortable with each other. Having Alanna back in their lives after she was missing for months really had done wonders for his mood in general, too. The conversation meandered. Anesh talked about how he was thinking of quitting his job at NASA, despite being able to manage it with one of his clones. There were a few problems, not the least of which was that the other Anesh still lived through days isolated from his partners and friends, and it was a big source of stress. But also, his legal status was kind of up in the air right now, and with the Order¡¯s break away from the FBI¡¯s prying eyes, it wasn¡¯t clear if Anesh¡¯s special status as space probe designer was in jeopardy or not. Also also, basically only one of the people he worked with took him seriously when he said he had a space elevator. He wanted to hire that guy, a bearded mountain of a man who constantly looked like he was being lightly choked by the dress code. James and Alanna made sympathetic noises, and reminded Anesh that they¡¯d support him even if he was a jobless malcontent. He¡¯d given them a scowl, and then when that hadn¡¯t been enough, had tried to get another iteration of himself to come by to give them an extra scowl. The other iteration of himself was at the Response meeting, though. And the third one wasn¡¯t actually ready to just quit NASA yet, and didn¡¯t want to be teleporting everywhere. For a while, Alanna tried to get the two of them engaged in a game she wanted to play called ¡®guess who is here on a date¡¯. Her enhanced Empathy, courtesy of the communication lesson that she¡¯d gotten from the sewer that was even now threatening to crest over into an even bigger upgrade, was a power she couldn¡¯t really turn off, only avoid by focusing on things that weren¡¯t other people. But sometimes, it was amusing to her to see just how obvious it was that someone was really, really, really invested in sleeping with their date. And she wondered how she could have missed the tiny cues before. Technically, empathy was something a person could learn, but James pointed out that aim was something you could learn too, and he still outperformed her in everything from pistols to throwing knives with just a couple points of his own stat. James tried to sideline her from her casual people watching endeavors, asking about the sewer creature that Alanna had rescued months ago who was finally making progress on healing, and had even woken from what seemed to be a coma. And the distraction worked. Alanna had been spending time with the creation that was like a blending of a raven and a hornet. Nothing serious, but she¡¯ sat with the young girl as she learned to speak through a skulljack connection, helped her learn to take halting steps on prosthetic feet that the Order¡¯s engineers had leapt to put together, and tried to spend at least a little time when the girl was awake talking to her. ¡°She¡¯s not like the ratroaches.¡± Alanna explained. ¡°Deb¡­ okay, you know how Arrush and Keeka hurt all the time?¡± ¡°Yeah, and did you know that they can actually tolerate enough ibuprofen to kill a yak?¡± James countered. ¡°Yeah. Well. Deb says their biology is put together for them to feel pain. But whatever this girl is, she¡¯s not made that way. She¡¯s basically a dungeon version of a kamikaze.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice had an undercurrent of cold anger to it as she leaned forward heavily on the small cafe table. ¡°Made to hit a target, then die. And¡­ that¡¯s it. There¡¯s no extra nerve clusters, no embedded anger or fear responses, she¡¯s just kinda blank. Learning fast, though. And curious about a lot of stuff. She¡¯s also starting to get stir crazy down in medical.¡± ¡°Does she have a name?¡± Anesh asked. Alanna shook her head. ¡°Not yet. She said she had a¡­ well, it¡¯s a mix between a loud buzz and a production number. So not that. And she hasn¡¯t picked anything yet. But seriously, I¡¯m worried about her sneaking out when no one¡¯s looking. Even if we do have a full time staff and someone is probably always looking.¡± ¡°You could bring her here, if you want!¡± James offered. ¡°I mean, here is kind of a big jump.¡± Alanna raised her eyebrows. ¡°Is it?¡± James asked, actually thinking about it as he spoke. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not like you can¡¯t just teleport here. It¡¯s a summer tuesday afternoon, so there aren¡¯t that many people. And the baristas already think we¡¯re weird anyway. Wait, hell, the baristas regularly serve camracondas now, since everyone at the Order comes here anyway.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It just might be a nice way to get her out for a bit. Let her experience some of the world somewhere safe.¡± He looked down at his own hands idly tapping against the empty cup he had. ¡°I feel safe here, anyway.¡± He muttered. ¡°There are a bunch of teenagers here.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°Teenagers can be awful.¡± ¡°Eh.¡± Alanna dismissed that point. ¡°They¡¯re all bleeding awe and hero worship because they know who we are.¡± ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t wanna say anything, but one of them was legitimately thinking about asking us for autographs a minute ago when I went to the bathroom.¡± James said with a wince. Anesh stared at the two of them, before leaning slightly to look between their seats and over to the table of younger people, one of whom rapidly ducked their eyes down as he noticed he was being watched. Anesh leaned back. ¡°Bloody hell.¡± He grumbled. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m with James. Go grab your friend.¡± ¡°This seems¡­ reckless?¡± Alanna paused and asked the question not like she was trying to convince them otherwise, but because she wanted to double check that she had their approval. James just shrugged, a goofy grin on his face, while Anesh looked like he was about the launch into some kind of explanation. She didn''t know what of. But Alanna was willing to take it as a yes. ¡°Right.¡± She nodded. ¡°Do good recklessly, huh?¡± Behind her, James let out a cherry ¡°Exactly!¡± as she got up and headed to the bathroom to teleport away. And then fifteen minutes, and a few confirmation texts later, back. The young girl who came with her - and it was always weird for James to constantly try to assess how mature creations that were only a year or two old were - was perhaps the most out of place thing the cafe had ever seen. And camracondas hung out here. James and Rufus played card games with teenagers here. Sarah came here fairly often. None of them ever caused the kind of hush as Alanna walked back into the lobby, letting the inhuman friend she¡¯d brought along lean on her. They were an angular quadruped, but their body was still shaped like they were supposed to walk and move like something with two legs. The extra legs connecting to ancillary hip joints without having any extra large bone structure or even the proper support from their form. They didn¡¯t have feet; instead they just had conical stingers, lances of chitin with tips that shattered easily on impact. Or at least, she had had them. Three of them had been broken away when the girl was rescued, and never grew back, and currently had secured prosthetic claws attached to them. The fourth leg did as well, to keep balance, but the girl still wobbled like she wasn¡¯t used to walking. Which, to be fair, she wasn¡¯t. The rest of her body was a compressed hourglass of chitin; she didn¡¯t seem to have arms, just a black and yellow striped shell, black feathers sprouting off her waist and shoulders like a cloak, with a set of six thick translucent oval wings behind her. A tall black furred oval face dominated by a cracked black beak with a few soft feathers surrounding it, and one large multifaceted eye flicking wildly around their surroundings while the other one was covered by a black eyepatch, the strap of which was wrapped around and under the antenna coming off the back of her head. She moved like she didn¡¯t know how light she was. A simple white robe covered most of her body, with slits cut in the side and the sleeves tied back behind the back. And like she was unused to walking. And she stared. At everything, and everyone, like she¡¯d never been outside of one of two different buildings before. Which she hadn¡¯t. For a few moments, the only sounds were the soft piano playing over the cafe¡¯s speaker system, and the clicking of her artificial feet on the stone floor. Everyone in the cafe slowly stopped what they were doing, and turned to stare at the alien presence in their midst. Then they noticed Alanna, who did not look amused with them, and was silently threatening everyone with her aura, and people turned their open stares to surreptitious glances, and their silence to resumed conversations and whispers. Alanna guided her friend over to their table, and pulled out a chair for her, turning it sideways so the girl could move her non-human-standard legs into a sitting position. ¡°I¡¯m back.¡± She said simply, while the crow-wasp kept rapidly flicking her head and eye back and forth around the room. Looking at the lights, sometimes focusing on individual people, until settling on staring out the big bay windows at the front of the cafe. ¡°Deb¡­ uh¡­ might be mad at me?¡± ¡°We should give her a vacation.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re too hard on that girl.¡± James added. The wasp girl flinched as they spoke, whipping her sight between the two of them, before looking back at Alanna with a wide eye expression. ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± Alanna said in a soft voice that James and Anesh had never heard from her before. ¡°They¡¯re my friends too. You can say hi if you want?¡± There was a long pause, the girl shifting herself as she tried to get comfortable in the chair, and looking down at anything that wasn¡¯t eye contact, burying herself in her own feathers and the robe she had on. ¡°¡­Hello.¡± Eventually came the mechanical tone from the speaker clipped to the robe¡¯s pocket. James smiled as kindly as he could. ¡°Hello there.¡± He said. ¡°Alanna thought you¡¯d like to get out of the hospital for a while.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The girl looked up at him, cracking her beak and buzzing something warbling at him. Then she snapped her beak shut and ducked back down again like she was ashamed or afraid. Anesh looked at James with concerned eyes, before turning back to the girl. ¡°It¡¯s alright to talk.¡± He told her. ¡°Even if no one understands you. Happens to me all the time.¡± ¡°Okay, hang on.¡± James¡¯ voice slipped back into familiar banter without meaning to. ¡°You talk about high level math all the time.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Anesh nodded sagely. ¡°And you don¡¯t understand me. But I keep doing it, don¡¯t I?¡± ¡°You tried to explain trigonometry to me, as a date.¡± James grumbled, folding his arms. Alanna¡¯s laugh surprised both of them, and they looked over to see the bird girl had slipped an arm out of her robe to hold up the speaker to Alanna¡¯s ear and ¡®whisper¡¯ something to her. James caught a glimpse of a cascade of slightly shimmering black feathers, capped with a grasping claw on the end of a wing, before the girl pulled her arm back and the limb seemed to vanish as the seam of chitin blended in against her body. ¡°No, no.¡± Alanna said, softly rubbing a hand on the girl¡¯s shoulder. ¡°They¡¯re just like that. It¡¯s how they express love.¡± ¡°You do the same thing!¡± James accused her with a smile. ¡°Also to express love, I assume. Either that or this is a very long con on your part.¡± He looked back at their new tablemate. ¡°Would you like anything to drink, if you¡¯re comfortable being here for a bit?¡± He asked. ¡°Uh¡­¡± He looked back at Alanna. ¡°Can she drink coffee?¡± ¡°Oh that seems like a terrible idea. Also she¡¯s allergic to nuts.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Anesh quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Just nuts?¡± ¡°Hate. Nuts.¡± The girl said with atonal conviction. She was still getting used to forming words through her skulljack, and even if she had a more or less complete picture of English dumped into her mind, that didn¡¯t mean she had practice using it. ¡°No nuts then.¡± James stood and headed over to the counter, hearing behind him as the girl started to open up a bit, asking Alanna what the windows were. He was smiling as he got in line and waited for the barista to get slightly less busy. ¡°Hey.¡± He said to the skinny, heavily tattooed guy on the other side of the counter. ¡°How¡¯s your night going?¡± ¡°Weirder than normal.¡± The dude replied, with a nod. ¡°What can I get for ya? Coffee? Tea? Alien ichor?¡± ¡°¡­do you want a job?¡± James asked with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. ¡°I feel like I should offer you a job. I think you¡¯d fit into our operational structure pretty well.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really do operational structures.¡± The barista told him easily, like he¡¯d been saving the line for exactly this moment. ¡°Yeah, neither do we, that¡¯s why I¡¯m offering.¡± James said. ¡°Anyway. Small¡­ banana smoothie?¡± The barista flipped an empty cup in his hand. ¡°Coming up. If you promise to explain what¡¯s up with the monstergirl later.¡± He said, vanishing before James could even pay, saying something muffled about it being on the house for new people. James stared at the blank space behind the cash register where a person should have been, then begrudgingly accepted the free drink and dropped twenty bucks and a skill orb into the tip jar. He got back to the table a few minutes later to find Alanna explaining the blender noise to the new girl. ¡°Here ya go.¡± He said, settling the drink in front of her, a straw already poking out of the cup. ¡°So, I was thinking-¡° ¡°What. This?¡± The wasp girl asked him, flicking her beak between him and the smoothie. ¡°It¡¯s a drink.¡± James said. ¡°A sweet fruit mix. I dunno if you¡¯ll like it, but it¡¯s something different than what you¡¯ve been having in the hospital.¡± Anesh made a humming sound. ¡°You know, I haven¡¯t actually needed to spend any time in our on-site hospital, just, you know, regular ones. For a variety of dungeon reasons. And that one time you broke my hand with a crowbar.¡± He ignored James¡¯ protests that it was an accident, and also years ago. ¡°Anyway. My point is, isn¡¯t our hospital food just whatever Nate or Marjorie made that day?¡± ¡°Or me! I also work in our kitchen!¡± James offered. ¡°I¡¯ve been getting so good at making bread lately, you have no idea.¡± ¡°You have skill ranks in cooking.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s kind of cheating. Oh, man, you know what? We should find you a sewer lesson on home ec or someth¡­ ah.¡± She stopped talking as she noticed the girl next to her had gone rigid, straw poking loosely into her beak. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ uh¡­ are you okay?¡± Alanna reached out to the wasp girl¡¯s shoulder again, worried that her mention of the Akashic Sewer had frightened or upset her. But then the girl whipped her head around to Alanna, her sides cracking open as she extended her wing-arms again to grab the cup, flinching slightly at the cold of the smoothie. She held it up. ¡°What. This?¡± She demanded, same tone as before but the volume turned up slightly, her organic voice a buzzing symphony as she paired it with her skulljack assisted speech. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a banana smoothie!¡± Alanna pulled back slightly from the frozen drink being presented to her face at close range. ¡°Are you okay?!¡± ¡°Banana.¡± The girl said, pulling the drink back and wrapping her beak around the straw again, taking a long drink. ¡°Banana.¡± She gave a squawking buzz, like a gasp or a sigh as she stopped pulling on the straw, before she dove back in again. ¡°Baaaaa naaaaa naaaaa¡­¡± James was doing his best not to choke on his own laughter, not wanting to startle the new girl. But she was in her own world now, her good eye focused on her drink, her wings out and her clawed hands balancing the cup. Her quiet curiosity about the world she¡¯d been dropped into narrowed down to the single point of a fruit smoothie. ¡°This is adorable.¡± James whispered to Anesh, who was doing a better job of not laughing, but still nodded back with a beaming smile on his face. There were a lot of little reminders that the residents of both the Sewer and the Office that had been brought back to Earth had lived hard lives. Been subjected to abuse that no one should have to survive. And sometimes those reminders were grim and depressing, but other times, it was a form of soft magic to watch someone enjoy a frozen drink for the first time, muttering the word ¡®banana¡¯ over and over, body language getting more animated in small motions. They made some small talk for a while, just letting their whims and words wander, while the wasp girl enjoyed her drink and got used to being around people. A few times, people would stop as they came in and stare, but Alanna or James would just look at them pointedly and give small shakes of their heads, and that was enough. James knew that eventually, they¡¯d have to deal with someone horrible, but not now. Not tonight. It was in the middle of this comfortable sense of togetherness that a small voice crept into James¡¯ consciousness. ¡°Can¡­ I try one?¡± The navigator in his mind asked. ¡°Try a smoothie?¡± James asked out loud, getting looks from Alanna and Anesh until he tapped the side of his head. ¡°Yes¡­?¡± The navigator asked. He still hadn¡¯t really chosen a name either, and was, really, quite quiet most of the time. He didn¡¯t visit James¡¯ dreams or make much contact during the day, unless they were on a dungeon delve. Sometimes, he felt more like a distant roommate than a friend or companion. But that was also okay, and James made sure that he knew that it was fine. Still, he felt a warmth as he let the connection to the infomorph bloom. ¡°Of course.¡± James said. ¡°Do you want to come out and say hi?¡± He asked. ¡°It¡¯s not a traditional journey, but we can see where this is going all the same. And I¡¯ll go order another one of these and hope the barista isn¡¯t annoyed with me yet.¡± Anesh rolled not just his eyes but his whole head. ¡°We really have given up on any semblance of secrecy, haven¡¯t we?¡± He asked. ¡°No, no, I know you¡¯ve got a reason, and don¡¯t get me wrong, I like it. But wow, we just gave up on trying to not draw attention, huh?¡± He said this as the navigator bled into physical space, a phantom limb slipping off of his own arm, orange and gold light covered in feathers that grew out of James¡¯ body all the way up to his neck. A few of the feathers farther up seemed to move of their own accord, eyes opening on them and looking around at the world on their own. When James went back to buy another smoothie, the barista had it ready for him already, and just handed the plastic cup over. ¡°You guys know this place isn¡¯t so big or loud that no one can hear you, right?¡± He asked. ¡°I think this came up before, when Alanna was yelling about overthrowing the government or something.¡± James answered, taking the drink. ¡°¡­Thank you.¡± The navigator¡¯s voice was like a whisper on the wind, and the barista startled a little as James handed the partially manifested infomorph the cup. ¡°Uh¡­ you¡¯re welcome?¡± The other guy said, scratching at his neck awkwardly. ¡°Two in one day is kind of a record for you guys, really.¡± He added as James laughed and returned to the table once more, as the navigator pulled the straw into a set of serrated teeth between a few ghostly orange feathers. ¡°How are you tasting that, even?¡± Alanna asked when James sat back down. ¡°Very good.¡± The navigator said, eyes on James¡¯ shoulder squinting in pleasure. ¡°Very¡­banana.¡± ¡°Yes! Banana!¡± The wasp girl agreed. ¡°I¡¯m glad they¡¯re making friends.¡± Anesh said. ¡°This is nice. We should do this more often. I should bring myself here next time; you two get to have friends, I should have a friend too.¡± ¡°You could bring that girl who you were probably flirting with several lifetimes ago?¡± James suggested. ¡°We never did get to meet her, you know.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Eh.¡± He said, grinning at Alanna who was watching the navigator¡¯s assault on the smoothie with wide eyed fascination. ¡°I mean, we got along, and there might¡¯ve been something, sure. But it¡¯s been a while, and we pretty much just stopped talking. I¡¯m kinda fine just moving on.¡± ¡°Surreptitiously moving on is how James plans to address the adorable gay rats having a crush on him.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°Wait, what?¡± James jolted upright. If Anesh had anything to say about that, he didn¡¯t let it distract him from finishing a previous thought. ¡°I also¡­ uh¡­¡± He flushed a slightly darker copper tone and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. ¡°I don¡¯t actually remember her name.¡± ¡°Names are important!¡± The navigator spoke like crunching gravel. ¡°Actually, yeah, do you have a name?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°I understand that it can be a lot of trouble to choose one for the first time, for a lot of people.¡± The navigator ruffled the feathers around James¡¯ neck, getting a sputtering swat from his host as James got ethereal feather up his nose and flinched away. ¡°I am unnamed, for now.¡± He said. ¡°James is¡­ descriptive. I do not want to be named like a bird.¡± ¡°Not like a bird, just a bird of some kind.¡± James badly defended himself, the thing Alanna had said dropping from his mind, briefly. ¡°You¡¯re covered in feathers and I¡¯m actually not very creative, okay?! I can¡¯t help it! Besides, Albatross is a cool name, and I stand by it as a suggestion.¡± ¡°You see?¡± The navigator said, setting the smoothie on the table for a brief window to gesture to James with his projected limb. ¡°This is what I mean.¡± He said, with a voice like tires on asphalt. Alanna nodded knowingly. ¡°I think it¡¯s pretty telling that James just says ¡®The Office¡¯ or ¡®The Attic¡¯ all the time to talk about dungeons. He says the capital letters, but he really does go for descriptive names.¡± Across from her, James held a hand to his heart in a shocked ¡®I am right here¡¯ kind of motion. ¡°How about you, kiddo?¡± Alanna¡¯s tone slipped back into that warm, almost motherly voice as she gently nudged the girl next to her. ¡°You get to pick a name whenever you want, you know. And I can¡¯t keep calling you ¡®that one girl¡¯ forever.¡± ¡°Banana!¡± The Sewer creation said, swiveling her head to face Alanna as she slurped down the last dregs of the smoothie, pivoting to look down at the empty cup with a widening eye and a cracked open beak, disappointment radiating off of her. ¡°I mean¡­ uh¡­¡± Alanna seemed taken off guard, which was foolish. James and Anesh had seen this coming a mile away. Hell, the navigator had seen this coming, and they¡¯d only just really joined in. ¡°You can¡­ go with that, sure. Are you sure?¡± ¡°¡­No.¡± The wasp admitted. ¡°But. I like this.¡± She held up the empty cup. ¡°So yes.¡± ¡°Then we can come back here again.¡± Alanna said with a smile. ¡°If you want to?¡± The girl nodded at her, head drooping slightly as she did so. ¡°Okay, you need to lay down.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice suddenly turned to concern. She looked up at the others. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get her back. I¡¯ll see you two later, right?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes.¡± Anesh said. ¡°That is how our relationship works. We see each other constantly.¡± Alanna flipped him off as James passed her a telepad he¡¯d already written the Lair¡¯s receiving point on. ¡°Thanks.¡± She told him, before getting Banana up on unsteady feet, and pulling the telepad page. A few seconds later, the two of them vanished with a light pop. ¡°Hey, did you notice that?¡± James asked, eyebrows raised. ¡°The¡­ delay?¡± Anesh looked back at his boyfriend. ¡°Yeeeeeah. Do the new telepads do that? Uh oh. I may have cocked that up.¡± ¡°A strange move.¡± The navigator said around the smoothie it was still working on. ¡°But so safe. You made it?¡± He looked at Anesh with his myriad eyes. Anesh nodded. ¡°Yeah, though it doesn¡¯t work very well for exploring. Sorry.¡± The navigator gave an exasperated huff. ¡°You know, if you want, we could go on more of a walk.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s less¡­ uh¡­ on fire outside now? Also we¡¯ve been taking up this table for a couple hours. We can just go a direction we never have before. Talk about names. Or social living space design!¡± He perked up. ¡°Oh! That was the thing, before Alanna got here! I wanted to talk about plaza design, and the thought of using orange totems for clear lines of walkability! I mean¡­ uh¡­¡± he trailed off. ¡°If you want to. Obviously.¡± ¡°James, I¡¯m tired, still too hot, and I have to piss.¡± Anesh said. ¡°But I can fix one of those before we go, and I love you, and I always want to talk about whatever logistical nightmare you¡¯ve thought of next. So yes, let¡¯s go on a walk.¡± It wasn¡¯t very often that Anesh outright said that, James realized. Not when they were out and about. His boyfriend was a loving, affectionate person, but he was also very reserved and tried to avoid being flustered in public. Or so James had thought, anyway. Maybe Anesh was changing. Maybe they both were, and he hadn¡¯t noticed. James didn¡¯t have a quick reply to the words, anyway, and as Anesh went to use the washroom, the navigator poked at him. ¡°I am disappointed.¡± He said. ¡°Wha?¡± James jolted, realizing he was sitting at a table essentially talking to ¡®himself¡¯ as an older couple waiting for their drinks stared at him. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± ¡°Disappointed.¡± The navigator said again. ¡°Do you know why?¡± James thought about it for a few seconds, before he chanced a guess. ¡°Is it,¡± he asked, drawing on the knowledge that even if they were different people, the navigator had still ¡®grown¡¯ using his own mind, ¡°because you wanted to be named Banana, and she beat you to it?¡± ¡°Yesssssss.¡± The navigator hissed like the static between radio stations. ¡°I would have been a good fruit¡­¡± ¡°Bananas are berries actually.¡± James said with a smile, leaning back in his chair and watching the people flow by on the sidewalk through the windows of the cafe. Families going to the lake or fountain nearby, older shoppers whiling away their Tuesday, people on lunch break going to grab something from any of the half dozen little overpriced restaurants around here. ¡°Also, there are other smoothie flavors, if you want to come back here. Actually, question about that; you sorta feed off of journeys, right? Is that just exploration and new places? Does it not include comfortable habits?¡± The navigator paused, pulling its feathered limb close to James, ocular feathers rippling in thought. ¡°I do not know.¡± He said. ¡°But¡­ we should try? We should try. I think. I would like to. I have maybe been too quiet, I think.¡± ¡°Hey, it¡¯s alright.¡± James said, kicking forward as he spotted Anesh coming back. He stood and rolled his shoulder, trying to stretch out his back before they started walking again. ¡°We don¡¯t always have all the answers. So we try things. And sometimes they¡¯re good.¡± ¡°I like that a lot.¡± The navigator said softly. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± James told him, approaching Anesh and not stopping as he got within his boyfriend¡¯s personal space, wrapping his shorter lover in a slightly feathery hug before spinning around and holding the door open. ¡°Alright! It feels like I¡¯m already stepping into an oven! Let¡¯s see how long this lasts before someone tells me they like my coat and you can surprise the heck out of them!¡± ¡°This feels like a weirdly familiar game¡­¡± Anesh said. ¡°This is an excellent game.¡± The navigator shot back. It was an excellent game. It took three minutes, and the woman who said it didn¡¯t take back her offer to buy the coat even after the navigator talked to her. Which sort of put a damper on how fun it was, but afterward, they laughed at the absurdity anyway. Chapter 205 ¡°So long as we love we serve; so long as we are loved by others, I would almost say that we are indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend.¡± -Robert Louis Stevenson, Lay Morals- _____ For a while, James¡¯ life threatened to approach something resembling a routine. One that would baffle anyone who thought that a routine meant what time you got up to go to school or work, and maybe what you liked to eat for lunch, but a routine all the same. That said, while it wasn¡¯t like James woke up whenever he felt like it every day, it was safe to say that ¡®sleep¡¯ was something he didn¡¯t have down to much of a science. Sarah did, though, and she was learning how to pass on tiny sparks of rest through their relationstick bond, just enough to make him alert and get past that grogginess that happened just after waking. This, too, was becoming a routine. No less special, for being something they were good at, but a small bit of magic harnessed and turned into a lifestyle. But magic or not, James was forming a routine. On Tuesdays, he went into Officium Mundi. _____ He¡¯d nearly been decapitated by a cat the last time he¡¯d gone in, dodging it only by virtue of dumb luck. He got a cracked rib, instead, the armored plate on his chest slowing but not stopping the claws, and certainly not keeping the pressure from hammering into him as he was pinned to the ground. The night had been going so well. He¡¯d gotten a skill rank in tractor repair earlier, and they¡¯d found a small orange totem that made walking distance shorter than it should be, which had been called in and retrieved by an escorted Research team with very delicate movements. And then a pair of skill ranks in cigarette rolling (useless) and French (less useless). All things considered, especially with them keeping a lot of the orbs unpopped to share with the Order, James was feeling excellent. And then this. James tried to fumble out a telepad, to take the cat out to the real world, where the green orb it was made of couldn¡¯t keep it enslaved to the dungeon. An older model, the one without the unfortunate time delay. But before he could tear it, an enterprising stapler had jammed a metal prong into his finger, and scampered off with it. Bleeding and pinned, it had only been by virtue of his allies that James had made it out of that one okay. The two newer delvers that Daniel was training and James had come along to talk to shaking off their hesitation after the first few seconds of the fight, and pushing the cat back off him with a combination of boar spear and handgun fire that was a little too close for comfort. James had lunged sideways for the strider that had his telepad, crushing it a little too hard to survive as he plucked the magic item back, rolling to his knees on top of the invisible cat. To the side, the illusionary kitten copy was mewling pathetically as it bled spectral red all over the floor. He¡¯d teleported back to the containment room, brain not quite registering that the fight was over, and there wasn¡¯t anything to be done. Arriving on top of an artificial creature that got about two and a half breaths without the dungeon in its head before it expired. James tried to roll off the cat¡¯s body, and tumbled to the floor in a heap, the effects of teleporting out of a region of time dilation hitting him all at once as he struggled not to vomit. The smell of blood and wet fur sharp and cloying and inescapable in the small room. He¡¯d tried to stagger to his feet, slipped, and cracked his elbow on the floor and his other outstretched hand on the manifested orb. [Local Area Shift : Production Speed - Electronics - +/- 1.8 hours toward optimal] [+1 Skill Rank : Logistics - Meal Planning] [+1 Skill Rank : Templating - Resume] [+3 Skill Ranks : Fabrication - Chairs - Rocking] It didn¡¯t feel good anymore. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± James whispered at the cat, mouth thick with his own blood from where he¡¯d bit his tongue. He tried to stand again, and got about halfway there before he toppled backward, the next thing he remembered being Davis yelling for someone to go get a medic as the Researcher found him. _____ On Wednesdays, he teleported down to Texas for the library, which Vad, a man who was a perfect fit for the Order, had decided to call the Ceaseless Stacks. _____ ¡°You don¡¯t look so good.¡± Vad had told him. James had realized, as he listened to him under this less stressful condition, that Vad was intentionally affecting an American accent when he wasn¡¯t under pressure. His voice slipped back to something that James identified as vaguely Russian when they were being attacked by books. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m fine.¡± James lied with a smile. ¡°Hey, you figure out what being part bird is good for yet?¡± Vad had just rolled his eyes. ¡°I haven¡¯t even figured out what my wizard tattoo does.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James slapped his forehead as they opened the door to the dungeon, dropping his voice to a hush as they entered so as not to disturb any books ahead of time. ¡°If it ends up being magic, you can call it a spellbook.¡± ¡°¡­do you think that¡¯s a pun?¡± Vad had asked, and James¡¯s ego had shattered in his chest. Or maybe that was just his cracked rib, still not healed from last week. They had entered with Thought-Of-Quiet again, who found the library to be fascinating, both the mundane one outside and this magical one in the dungeon, and also Nik, who was finally being let out of medical observation for his use of shaper substance to rewrite his body into something less dysphoric. Their goal was simple scouting and acquiring samples of as much as they could so Research could do their thing. Once the dungeon had opened up as a place for adventure and not spontaneous death, Vad had really opened up. He had an endless stream of questions about the Order, which had dropped in frequency as they entered, but didn¡¯t go away. And James would be happy to answer once they had time. They¡¯d done this once before, with just four people, and found it worked better to not have a larger group. So they slipped in, started making their way through without disturbing anything, and promptly got jumped by a Narrator. It wasn¡¯t even fair. This one wasn¡¯t even humming, it was just laying on a top shelf, the tweed material of its robe camouflaging it as the spines of books. Before James knew what was happening, it had finished its litany about them getting lost, and the whole group was somewhere else. It didn¡¯t even feel hostile. More like it was shooing them away from its nest. They kept moving, though without the ability to map, there wasn¡¯t much direction to their poking around. They could always telepad out, after all. As was tradition, James accidentally stepped on an orb after a small skirmish with a shelf full of fanged books. [+1 Species Rank : Wolf - Mackenzie River] ¡°I really want to know what these things do.¡± He¡¯d grumbled. ¡°If I¡¯m gonna be part wolf, I should know how to be part wolf.¡± ¡°You could become an furry.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet suggested without any indication of if it was a joke or not. James wanted to respond, but he also wanted to admonish Nik and Vad that snickers in the library were a great way to draw attention to them. ¡°Are there camraconda furries?¡± James asked instead, suddenly curious. ¡°Like¡­ if you could be an animal¡­¡± ¡°Bat.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet had answered instantly. That conversation ended when they¡¯d caught sight of something moving, and had crept around a low row of colorful children¡¯s area shelves, chairs, and tables, to get the jump on the slinking paper lynx, a creature that was much thicker than its composition would have indicated. Literal sharp ears that hadn¡¯t stopped Though-Of-Quiet from catching it off guard in his vision, and dozens of those circling, moving words dancing across its yellowed paperback skin. It was a fascinating creature. James had told the camraconda to let it go. It hadn¡¯t been hostile, after all, and they did have a policy about hunting things that didn¡¯t try to hurt them. But instead of running or turning on them, the lynx had just stood back, its flank rustling as it turned its own pages. ¡°Maybe it knows the way out?¡± Vad joked. ¡°Three stairs upward, take a right, head to the far wall, right again, you will find a door, do not take it, it is the next one.¡± The lynx spoke, getting an alarmed yelp out of Nik and a heart pounding moment of fight or flight response from James. Then it turned, and fled, melding back into the shelves. ¡°What the fuck was that.¡± Someone said. James thought for a second, then nodded to himself. ¡°It was a cat, that gave us library directions.¡± He said, turning and making deliberate eye contact with Vad. ¡°A card catalogue, if you will.¡± He raised his eyebrows at the other delver. ¡°That was a pun.¡± James added. ¡°Shut up.¡± Vad said. And then, in a grumbling tone to the camraconda next to him, ¡°But that¡¯s also pretty good.¡± They¡¯d gotten out without any serious injuries, and with a heavy pair of duffle bags full of the computer parts that didn¡¯t require connections to work with each other. _____ Then it was a day of what could charitably be called admin. Checking in with the Alchemists and Horizonists, hanging around the Lair, doing odd jobs, probably getting in the way more than he helped. But being there. Visible, and open to talk to. _____ ¡°Do I have to go back to school?¡± Morgan had asked him, cornering James in the dining area. Well, ¡®cornering¡¯. James had more or less been enjoying having people sort of clue in to the fact that he was here, and would talk to them. He had a fruit platter and a bowl of pretzels on the table for them. ¡°Like¡­ in general?¡± James asked, raising his eyebrows. ¡°In a couple weeks.¡± Morgan clarified, the teenager not registering James¡¯ mild sarcasm. ¡°When the school year starts.¡± ¡°The fact that you said ¡®have to¡¯ kind of makes me think you don¡¯t want to.¡± James said, folding his arms as he leaned back and offered the kid a seat. ¡°Which, I get. High school sucks.¡± ¡°I¡¯d be a senior, and I missed¡­ a lot.¡± Morgan said, face red as he stared down at the table. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be an idiot compared to everyone else. And I¡¯ll be the weird kid.¡± James may have snorted. ¡°Oh yeah, because that¡¯s always what you want. High school students deciding what¡¯s weird.¡± He cleared his throat as Morgan gave him a confused look. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the thing. Legally¡­ uh¡­ I don¡¯t actually know what the fuck is going on. But we¡¯ve got a lawyer here, and a ton of resources to make this happen. You don¡¯t wanna go to high school, that¡¯s fine. But learning and education are important to a person. So, what do you wanna learn?¡± ¡°¡­plant stuff?¡± Morgan said, like he wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°If you¡¯re not sure, that¡¯s more or less fine.¡± James said. ¡°I switched college majors three times before getting a degree I don¡¯t use. But we need somewhere to start.¡± ¡°Wait, you¡¯re serious?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I can just¡­?¡± James looked around the dining area of the Lair, currently capable of holding about twenty more people than the physical space should have been able to. ¡°How long have you been crashing here, now?¡± He asked quietly. ¡°Morgan, did you really think we¡¯d¡­ just throw you back out into a shitty situation? We want the world to be better. That means all of it. That includes school. I¡¯m not so old that I don¡¯t remember how and why school sucks for kids. We¡¯ve had plans for this for a while, but now seems like as good a time as any to start putting them into effect.¡± ¡°Like, starting your own school?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°Something like that. You do get that the summer program you¡¯ve been in with the other kids is still learning, right?¡± James prompted. Morgan opened his mouth to argue, and then stopped, and looked like he was actually thinking about it. ¡°Yeah, right? We tricked you! Got you to learn how to do research and learn skills and things! And how to talk to each other! Hah!¡± James bit at his lip as he gave a lopsided grin. ¡°So we¡¯ll probably just continue that. We¡¯ve got the cash to get some professional teachers in, but we¡¯ll want to focus on topics that you¡¯re initially interested in. And, like, the legal thing. Emancipation, probably? I dunno, I¡¯ll talk to Redding.¡± ¡°O-okay.¡± Morgan had said, overwhelmed. ¡°Thanks?¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem!¡± James said. ¡°I know that life hasn¡¯t been what you expected. And, honestly, I cannot fucking imagine how weird it is for you, as a kid, you know? You¡¯re living with a bunch of wizards and nonhumans and you¡¯re doing a fucking great job of keeping it together. So, like, you say you don¡¯t wanna go to high school? Done. We¡¯ll make an alternative. We were gonna anyway.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Sound good?¡± ¡°Yeah, it does.¡± Morgan looked like he was trying not to cry. ¡°Oh, uh¡­¡± he distracted himself, ¡°are there¡­ more of the rat people around now?¡± He asked James. James did a quick mental check to try to remember if there was an operational security reason to not answer, something he didn¡¯t like but was trying to be better about. A tiny seed of Planner, resting in the corner of his cerebellum, shook their head. ¡°Yeah, a few.¡± James said. ¡°More coming, probably.¡± Morgan looked away, like he wasn¡¯t sure if he should say anything, and James prompted him with a casual, ¡°Why, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°A lot of the other kids still don¡¯t like them.¡± He said. ¡°I dunno, it¡¯s¡­ it makes me feel really shitty. Do they get classes?¡± And he did feel awful; he knew what it was like, to feel like you couldn¡¯t have friends anymore. And as far as he knew, the ratroaches grew up that way. That was fucked up. And with all the subtly of a teenager, he was trying to express that in a way that didn¡¯t make him feel subconsciously vulnerable. ¡°Not a bad idea. Would you be okay with that? Learning hands on agriculture with a ratroach?¡± ¡°I already live with a giant robot snake.¡± Morgan told James, like that actually counted as an answer. James tried to smother a chuckle as he realized that he was hearing the sort of answer he would give, coming from someone more than a decade younger than himself. ¡°So yes then. Alright! Make a list of a few things you¡¯re interested in, and we¡¯ll see about setting up class times based around those. You¡¯re still learning math though!¡± ¡°Math is fine.¡± Morgan caught James off guard. ¡°I¡¯m good at math.¡± He idly rubbed the back of his neck in a motion that he probably didn¡¯t realize he was making. ¡°¡­Okay¡­¡± James narrowed his eyes suspiciously, watching carefully as Morgan got up and left, stopping halfway across the dining area to exchange some kind of complicated high five thing with one of the other young interns. He looked over the growing teen, but his eye was drawn especially to the popped collar of the jacket he was wearing, and the way he kept his growing hair loose to cascade down the back of his neck. ¡°God dammit.¡± James muttered. ¡°I¡¯m gonna find who gave that kid a skulljack, and be very disappointed at them.¡± After he talked to Karen, who was approaching him with a look of professional determination. Assuming James survived the encounter with his psyche intact. _____ Thursday was the day when James let his sleep schedule loop back around. Clutter Ascent had started to develop some kind of dungeon time dilation ability, and the time he spent there usually included a really good nap, which brought him back in line for the rest of the week. Technically, this was a dungeon day, but he didn¡¯t think of it that way. It was more personal time. Especially with the nap. _____ Lesson Continues : Biology III (1622/1800), Lesson Continues : Basketball III (390/1200), Merits : 266, Credits : 2 The words sat in James¡¯ mind as he idly checked his ¡®syllabus¡¯ from the Akashic Sewer¡¯s magical lessons. The pattern had changed again; everyone in the Order who had a Lesson had noticed it. Merits and credits were new-ish, but easily lined up to the red and green sparks given for killing Sewer creatures, or answering its grim trivia questions. What hadn¡¯t changed was that the thresholds to reach the next tier were getting farther and farther. James had asked the Research division, and it turned out someone had already done an analysis of how the requirements changed. At a base level, the things James knew were accurate. Higher level of the lesson, or more concurrent lessons, meant more things you needed to learn. And with each of those points representing a single piece of knowledge, that could get out of hand pretty quickly. What was interesting though was that it wasn¡¯t the same for everyone. The Order roughly knew that dungeon¡¯s could change the way they handed out powers. But they couldn¡¯t actually prove here that the changes in the Sewer¡¯s magic came from the different books, and wasn¡¯t just it adjusting numbers on the fly as people advanced. Either way, James wasn¡¯t running out of Youtube videos on mammal facts, so his biology lesson kept progressing steadily. It was getting harder to actually improve at basketball, though. Not when he¡­ wasn¡¯t really doing it. He sighed, and then swapped that sigh for a grin as the door to the house he was waiting at cracked open. The camraconda answering the front door of the suburban home looked up at James with a friendly bob. ¡°Welcome, yes.¡± He said, sliding back and carrying the doorknob in careful teeth. ¡°Please wipe feet. Upstairs is open.¡± James brushed aside his worries about changing magic for now, and thanked the resident of the Clutter Ascent¡¯s downstairs home. The camraconda was one of six people who lived in the nice home; the Order had bought the place off the last owner to secure the dungeon, and when it ended up being peaceful, had opened it up as living space to a few people who needed a stable place to live and weren¡¯t especially interested in being involved with the Order of Endless Rooms¡¯ constant whirlwind of activity. He knew Recovery checked in here fairly often. And so did the people who came through to visit the attic dungeon. James slipped upstairs, trying not to feel so awkward about invading someone¡¯s home, and up the folded wooden steps into the Attic. When they¡¯d found the place, this climb had been covered in an almost physical aura of terror. Now, it just felt like walking into a sunset. Clutter Ascent¡¯s impossibly expanded space was held under a peaked roof, the ceiling overhead both too close and too far away, filled with rafters and insulation. Orange and gold and purple sunlight streamed in from false sunsets through windows that were at angles that could never have been facing the outside at all, much less all of them catching the sun at once, even if it weren¡¯t noon outside. The place smelled of sawdust and mothballs, the whole floor a mass of shadows. Stacked cardboard boxes and plastic containers housed a million dusty mysteries. Old furniture, some of which contained magical puzzles to solve that rewarded the participant with the magic of sharing, rose up to form halls and corridors through the mess. Gardening tools that still had old dry dirt on them poked out of hard plastic buckets like strange dead plants, while fake potted plants sat in stacks waiting for their dusty leaves to be cleaned off and presented again. James loved it here. He made his way, following a few paper signs with big arrows drawn in colored marker, to a growing structure amid the seemingly forgotten chaos. The place had been where he and Sarah had started reading stories to the dungeon, and it had since grown slightly. No longer a simple tent of blankets and a few couch cushions, now it more resembles a circus¡¯ big top tent. Huge, soft sheets of fabric making up walls, supported by stacks of pillows that never seemed to topple. The place had its own attic. James didn¡¯t know how that worked. Unlike Officium Mundi, this dungeon didn¡¯t seem interested in explaining its spatial warping with something as easy to steal as orange orb totems. The sub attic was where he was going, though, to start. Saying hi to Lupe on the way, one of the people who they¡¯d recruited who was a specialist in child development, to try to help guide the dungeon into growing into a good person. A task no one had any idea if they could do, but they were all interested in. She gave him a steady smile and a friendly nod as he passed. Lupe was one of those people James knew was smart, and knew was on board with their organization, but he always felt like they were talking past each other when they tried to have conversations. Still, she was kind, and adapted well to taking care of a living space and all the new creatures it made. Two more little amalgamations of different small wildlife scampered around the space, playing lightly and without fear as their caretaker kept an eye on them. And James suddenly realized that Fredrick, the first stuff animal, had grown quite a bit. Either that or been made larger than these other ones. He spent about an hour, after escaping from their chittering pleas to play with them, up in the attic, talking to Sarah, and looking at a raincloud. ¡°She¡¯s growing. Properly this time.¡± Sarah said proudly, arms thrown out to the array of terrariums and aquariums that she had set up like some supervillains would have a bank of security monitors in their lairs. ¡°Look! Look at this one!¡± ¡°How do you have time for the mad science when I know for a fact you are always busy?¡± James asked his friend, shaking his head in wonder as he watched the chunk of living raincloud in the containment vessel Sarah indicated. It had veins of lightning and a swirling thick hide of condensation that seemed oddly opalescent at this close distance. Sarah planted her hands on her hips. ¡°I¡¯m very clever.¡± She said. ¡°But seriously, this¡­ this is going well.¡± Her smile was kind of sad as she looked back at the living raincloud. ¡°It takes kind of a lot of effort; May probably is always gonna need a habitat. And parts of her are¡­ not gonna make it. But with induced electrolysis, evaporative cycling, and¡­ uh¡­ I forget the term. Putting¡­ things in the water? Dosing? No.¡± Sarah trailed off. James knelt down and looked into the hundred gallon terrarium tank, noticing that the raincloud moved and pressed its unnaturally thick cloud against the glass as he got close. The base of the tank was blanketed in lush greenery, a living carpet of plant life sustained under the cloud. ¡°How come some of these tanks are less¡­ uh¡­ alive than this one?¡± James asked. His friend clicked her tongue, and folded her arms. ¡°Uh¡­ how much time do you have for a biology lesson?¡± She asked. ¡°¡­I was literally just saying hi before I went back down and fell asleep in a pile of pillows while reading a book about human anatomy I brought, because if I learn enough biology, I might become immortal.¡± James replied. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I keep asking!¡± Sarah laughed. ¡°Okay, so, May¡¯s weird. She¡¯s not a single creature, exactly? Like, each of these little clouds is part of May, and if left with enough space, she¡¯ll eventually split off a new one. But they can recombine if they want to, and it appears they maintain memories across this process.¡± ¡°Okay, kind of like a certain type of jellyfish.¡± James nodded. ¡°I follow.¡± ¡°¡­Dungeons make jellyfish?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°No, jellyfish are weird and also technically immortal and¡­ look, tell me about the¡­¡± he shook his head and motioned back at the tank. Sarah gave him a suspicious purse of her lips before she continued. ¡°Sure!¡± She said eventually. ¡°So, May can do the jellyfish thing. But also the pieces she makes are sort of¡­ adapted to their environments? Like, the new clouds start off very simple, and then rapidly change based on what kind of environment they have. It¡¯s part of how we keep some of them stable. The ones that are rocky get thinner ¡®bodies¡¯, and are easier to keep in a living state for a long period of time, until they can split off again or safely re-merge. And in the tanks with a lot of plant life, they¡­ uh¡­ well, they grow plants.¡± ¡°¡­Like¡­ magically?¡± James asked, shifting back from the tank. ¡°Like if this got out and ended up over a forest or something, would it explode out and overrun the planet in some kind of tsunami of verdigris, crushing modern civilization into a state where we must rely on rustic treetop villages and old technology preserved with new magic?¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Sarah stared at him, before she carefully leaned back, cocked one leg, and slowly extended it to shove her sock into James¡¯ face, hopping forward to press at him as he sputtered a laugh and tried to get away from her slowly advancing kick. ¡°Why do you just have that line ready?!¡± She demanded. ¡°You always do this! You say stuff like that, like you¡¯ve just spent the last two weeks waiting for someone to give you an opening to talk about the world being eaten by plants!¡± James tried to reply, just as Sarah lost her balance and slipped away, the force of the motion toppling him onto his ass where he lost himself in laughter, unable to form words. Sarah joined him for a minute, before she wiped at her eye, and gave a real answer. ¡°Anyway, no? Probably not. It¡¯s not magic, except that May is actually just perfect irrigation, I guess. The botanist girl came through, and said that May is basically just keeping the perfect hydration level for the plants. And since we have sunlamps, so the cloud doesn¡¯t block out the sun or anything, they¡¯re just growing literally exactly as good as they can.¡± ¡°That¡¯s amazing.¡± James said, staring to get up, then realizing the dusty wooden floor was actually kind of comfortable, barring a couple rough splintery patches, and slumping back into a laying position to look up at his old best friend. ¡°Like, that¡¯s just¡­ that¡¯s cool on its own, but if that¡¯s something May actually wants to do, imagine what kind of farming systems we could build.¡± ¡°Always with the ¡®building a utopia¡¯ thing with you, isn¡¯t it?¡± Sarah grinned toothily at him. ¡°But you¡¯re right. Also, I feel bad saying this, but I don¡¯t think May really ¡®wants¡¯ anything. I¡¯ve been doing this for months now, and¡­ she¡¯s a beautiful piece of unique life, and she¡¯s clearly got feelings and emotions, she reacts and recognizes things. But I don¡¯t think she thinks the way we do; making plants grow isn¡¯t something she does or doesn¡¯t want, it¡¯s just a thing. I¡¯m¡­ sorta sure that she can¡¯t get bored? But I can¡¯t run a CAT scan on a cloud, so.¡± Sarah shrugged. ¡°Anyway. It¡¯s like how humans don¡¯t really decide if we¡¯re gonna breathe or not.¡± ¡°Anesh does.¡± ¡°Anesh also decided to go to school to learn more math on purpose, so Anesh doesn¡¯t count.¡± Sarah said. James stuck his tongue out. ¡°Hey, if he hadn¡¯t, I never would have met him. And that would be awful!¡± ¡°Yeah, you¡¯d be stuck with one wonderful partner instead of two!¡± Sarah laughed back at him. ¡°Imagine the terror!¡± James snapped his fingers as he tried to get up, and Sarah gave him a hand rising to his feet. ¡°Oh, by the way! That reminds me! You planning to ask Alanna out anytime soon?¡± Sarah turned bright red in almost an instant, an effect James only rarely saw on his otherwise implacably cheerful friend. ¡°We talked about this.¡± She muttered. ¡°And then that conversation ended as it was meant to.¡± ¡°¡­with us getting shot at?¡± James tried to remember when that had been. ¡°Yeah, wait, that was when a mind controlled police force tried to kill us, wasn¡¯t it? That¡¯s not¡­¡± ¡°I agree. It¡¯ll be fine.¡± Sarah nodded, having a conversation James apparently wasn¡¯t a part of. ¡°No need to ever bother Alanna or let her know anything about this, and we can all keep being normal.¡± James slumped his shoulders dramatically, giving Sarah a flat stare. ¡°You do know that my partners and I regularly merge into an incredibly loving hive mind so we can all sleep easier, right?¡± He asked. ¡°Fuck!¡± Sarah exclaimed, before suddenly clapping her hands over her mouth. James choked down a bellowing laugh, face twisting as he resisted the urge. ¡°Yeah, you apologize to the dungeon we¡¯re in for swearing. I¡¯m gonna go read my book and enjoy the magically assisted nap field that Clutter has going on!¡± He half expected Sarah to chase him down the ladder, but she was apparently more thrown off than he¡¯d thought. But that was okay. They had a policy, as friends; she could come talk to him whenever she wanted, and he would literally always make time. Even if it would be, apparently, too awkward for even her to handle without blushing. James got two chapters and eight biology lesson points into his book before he was ambushed by a stuff animal looking for head pets. He got another point, interestingly, just examining the joints of the creature¡¯s legs while they sat quietly together. No points for the nap, though. But that was fine; he woke up feeling like he could take on the world. Which was good. He might have to, at some point. _____ Friday, James and Alanna collected a strike team, and kicked the Akashic Sewer hard enough that it stopped thinking about trying to kidnap children again. The place was getting worse, and James wasn¡¯t sure if they were enabling it, or actually keeping it from sortieing out, but so far they didn¡¯t have a good answer to keep it contained aside from going in. And this way, they could at least try to rescue some of its created victims. _____ The Sewer seemed like it was making a focused effort to be as horrible as possible. And to the three others in their team, it very well might have been. But to James and Alanna, it fell into a messy blur of constant violence and forward progress. They had to backtrack to a different pipe tunnel when the wall of the one they were traveling down cracked open and release a burst of steam that was too hot for most of them to move through and smelled like someone had set a summer camp outhouse on fire. They had a short fight when one of those fifty foot long grey and dripping arms had reached down from where it had camouflaged itself on the ceiling and tried to strangle their point woman. It didn¡¯t succeed. There was a set of quiet moments, interspersed in the whole delve, when they¡¯d stop in a chamber of packed dirt and rusting walls, and deploy drones down different hallways to scout ahead. The trick to getting drones in, it seemed, was to take the batteries out first. The trick to scouting was that these rooms always only had one usable path, and the others were quick dead ends. The team fought a hunched humanoid creature that looked like a cross between a bullfrog and a labrador, the dog frog erupting out of a river of flowing liquid meat, bulbous pustules across its slimy skin strained to almost bursting as it tried to drag Ethan down with its thick tongue. They found a ratroach nest, where the inhabitants just watched them with suspicion and palpable fear. They didn¡¯t need Alanna¡¯s empathy to tell them these ones weren¡¯t mindless monsters. One of their party teleported the four poor creatures back to the Lair¡¯s hospital. None of them wanted to think too hard about what it meant that one of the ratroaches had been obviously, painfully pregnant. A swarm of the small rat creatures, the ones that were just bone and muscle and patches of fur, had come at them down a tunnel. Someone had used an absorbed blue to crack one of the pipes under the swarm before it got too close, venting foul steam into their midst to the sound of chittering screams that echoed like human babies. The first few rats to die detonated in bursts of superheated blood, taking the rest with them. A flood of red sparks flowed down the surface of the piles and into Simon¡¯s hand as everyone put distance between themselves and the slaughter. They found a room covered in lists of names. Organized into groups, it took James a few minutes to realize they were the characters who died in different young adult books. They didn¡¯t know them all, but they got a few ¡®credits¡¯, the green sparks that opened the treasure lockers. They learned the dungeon had decided to experiment with water levels; an expanse like a gym locker room, the floor three feet deep with a liquid that smelled like Axe body spray and penetrated their filter masks without even trying. They left that one, and found another way. No one wanted to see what the shapes in the ¡®water¡¯ were. They took a sample of a dripping liquid that set off someone¡¯s Geiger counter something fierce. And another of a fungus growing on a ceramic pipe that shifted colors depending on how you looked at it. And when they made it to an exit room, they found something different. A ¡®priest¡¯, different from the Beautiful One that James had become almost used to by this point. The ratroach wore scraps of backpacks like a vestment, held a staff of a mop handle topped with half a human skull, and chittered in barely coherent Spanish at them about the beauty of early death as it waved all four of its unevenly placed arms at them. In front of a crowd of screaming ratroaches, none of which exhibited any real emotions aside from empty installed hate, James fought and defeated the priest. He¡¯d picked up some actually useful Office skills in the last month, and even if he weren¡¯t just more than capable of dueling a single ratroach, two ranks in wrestling and one in ballet would certainly have put him over the edge. He offered the ratroach a choice. To come with them, to try something better. It had said yes, then tried to knife James in the throat. A move that was, disturbingly, becoming familiar to him. It hadn¡¯t made it; Alanna had broken it¡¯s neck before it got the chance. They¡¯d grabbed six new lesson books, and gotten out of there, before the swarm decided they could maybe take the delvers. _____ Saturday was a meeting. Because people were available on Saturdays. The big ones were every three weeks, and they determined the direction of the Order as a whole, but every week, James still led a group discussion where they worked to hash out the foundational ideas for their first attempt at an arcology project. A project that had been a distant dream a year ago, a nightmare of impossible ideas six months ago, and suddenly seemed all too possible as of last week. They had a lot to talk about. _____ ¡°Fundamentally,¡± James said to the fourteen people in the audience for this particular niche discussion, ¡°a huge set of laws fall under the banner of asking the question of ¡®on a scale of one to ten, ten being death, how much risk is a given person allowed to put another given person in¡¯. Usually, we don¡¯t really want to go above nine. For obvious reasons. Or, what I hope are obvious reasons. This isn¡¯t a philosophy class, though, so we¡¯ll be assuming a value to sophont life and moving froward from there. There¡¯s also a subset of laws that¡¯s the same question, but for how much damage you can do to yourself.¡± He paused, and clicked a button to move forward on his PowerPoint presentation. ¡°And before we decide to claim a metaphorical kingdom, we need to decide what those one to ten numbers are.¡± This wasn¡¯t one of the emergency sessions, for deciding how the Order planned to address a sudden crisis. No, this was just a conversation, laying the groundwork, and starting people thinking and talking. But James had still tried to rope in as diverse a group as possible. Camracondas and infomorphs and humans and living potions, one lawyer, one of the maybe-ex-Horizonists, and one of the certainly-ex-Alchemists who was here with minimal coercion. They talked about the difference between risk and harm, about where the lines of self defense were. They talked about personal responsibility and informed consent, when it came to self-harm. Fairly often, someone who knew more on a specific topic than James would take his place to dig into modern civil rights documents or the nature of how wealth altered personal dynamics. They had the room for three hours, and they used all of it. By the end, they had made no decisions. But they were thinking. And, James reminded them, ¡°We¡¯re not going to vote on laws. Not at first.¡± It had come as a surprise to a few of them, until he continued, ¡°We¡¯re going to be smart, and we¡¯re going to come to a consensus. Because I think we all mostly agree that we need to make the best changes stick, before we give people a window to undo them.¡± _____ And then, because Sunday was also a day a lot of people had available, what remained of his fake weekend was thrown into the grinder of testing new magic ideas, and getting in practice with the growing cadre of people that Sarah had relationstick bonds with. _____ It had taken almost a month for everyone to agree to spend some time together on this. Because getting thirty different people into a room together, when for most of them what would be required was ¡®sitting down and speaking up if something went wrong¡¯ was not an appealing prospect. But Sarah was a very persuasive person. And the people Karen had working for her in the Recovery department were growing into almost unnaturally skilled bureaucrats, so while it had taken some time to place the date for this full scale test, it hadn¡¯t been painful to do so. What they were testing, a thing James kept calling the Avatar Project in the hopes that people would let him name a thing something cool for once, was dependent on two different magics, both from Clutter Ascent. First, the relationsticks. Tiny wood sticks that, when broken with someone else, opened an empty path between the two. A strong shared emotional moment could shape what that path was, and what it carried, letting the two participants feed health or speed or alertness to each other. It was a zero sum power, but it had saved a lot of their lives in the last year, and as long as your relationships were trusting, it had no real downside. Second, the book that Clutter Ascent had produced. No one knew why it had made it, but Sarah had found it one day; an old tome bound in black silk and filled with stars and nonsense words. It had taken a while to learn what it did, but the short answer was, it extended relationstick links one more step. There was some loss of the energies moved involved, it seemed, and there was still a limit on who you could draw from. But it meant that if two people shared strength, and one of them also shared health with someone else, then all three of those people could share both health and strength. The sort-of third thing was Sarah. Sarah, who loved everyone, who flitted everywhere making friends, being compassionate, and being an absolute delight. Sarah, who had over thirty different relationstick links. One of which was to James. Not everyone here was a¡­ well, whatever James was. And the atmosphere was less like a test of capabilities, and more like a friendly get together. Sarah had gotten some tables with snacks out, and everyone was either making small talk or finding quiet spots to sit. Folding chairs and beanbags making sure that, if this ended up being too much for everyone, no one would topple over. It actually kind of caught James off guard, as he stood on the other side of the open basement room doing warmup stretches, that a few of the contributors here were some of the older people who¡¯d been rescued from Officium Mundi¡¯s clutches years ago. He¡¯d known, in the abstract, that Recovery checked up on them, and that Sarah was sort of his mirror in terms of being an everywhere-everywhen problem solver, but they weren¡¯t really people he talked too that often. Or ever. He kind of figured they didn¡¯t want anything to do with the Order at all, really. ¡°You ready?¡± Reed asked him, himself, the camraconda James was pretty sure was named Ink-And-Key, and Davis all standing off to the side from where they¡¯d set up what amounted to an obstacle course for James. ¡°Because if you¡¯re ready, we can start.¡± ¡°Gimmie a sec!¡± James laughed. ¡°Look, give people time to plunder the cheese plate Sarah put out. It¡¯s not like there¡¯s a hur¡­ is there a hurry?¡± He cut himself off suddenly to look over at the three Researchers. Reed ran a hand through his curly hair, pulling and twirling at it subconsciously. ¡°I mean, no.¡± The young man admitted. ¡°But I¡¯ve got stuff to do.¡± Settling her laptop down on a safe surface and coiling into a stable position, Ink-And-Key peered up at James, the surprisingly tall camraconda giving him a flat look as she spoke. ¡°Reed is distracted by a new video game.¡± Her digital voice informed James, putting a curious emphasis on the words ¡®video game¡¯, like she was pretending she didn¡¯t know what that meant. ¡°You have time for video games?¡± James pretended to be offended. ¡°Don¡¯t you have alchemy stuff to do or something?¡± ¡°More my department.¡± Davis said, the older gentleman taking his own seat. Both he and Ink-And-Key were bound to Sarah as well, so they weren¡¯t just passive observers here. James made their skewed version of small talk with the Researcher as they waited for everyone else to get settled, the last few people tricking in and finding seats, talking about the Alchemist that Davis was working with as part of a rehabilitation program. The challenges of dealing with someone used to having so much money they could pay the cops to turn a blind eye to kidnappings, the progress being made in therapy and channeling the Alchemist¡¯s focus into productive and non-harmful work. It left him feeling hopeful, when Sarah called out that they were ready. James looked over at the crowd, some of them really tense in their seats. They didn¡¯t look ready, really. But this was, after all, just a test. He finished his stretches that he¡¯d been ignoring, while Sarah plopped herself cross legged at the front of the group, flipped open a book, and placed a her hands dramatically on the pages. James felt her reaching out to him, through their shared bond. Normally, they had to be in contact to share sleep with each other. But like this, they could use whatever medium was in the network that was most convenient, as long as it was available, and at a further loss. And behind her, James felt a field of stars, connected with gossamer lines to Sarah, and through her, to him. So many different things he could ask for. Strength, durability, stability, rest, warmth, connectivity, quickness, alertness, sight, hearing, heath, balance, stamina, flexibility, calculation, grace¡­ And the sudden terror he normally felt when out on the ocean, of looking down and realizing there was no visible depth, of knowing that all those people could take all those things from him in an instant. He took a steadying breath, remembered that he trusted everyone here, and that while they could just hollow him out and probably straight up kill him if they wanted to, they wouldn¡¯t, and that would have to be good enough for now. Then Reed asked him to start on the simplest of the tasks they had set up, and James got to work. Measuring and codifying the limits of this collective magic. How much weight can you lift? How high can you jump? How much pressure does a needle or blade take to break skin? How quickly can you solve math puzzles? Run this small obstacle course. Now do it again, but take more. Now more. James tapped into the audience, through Sarah and her book. The initial tests were probably pretty boring to watch. But then they got to trying to test the limits of James¡¯ reflexes, with Reed setting up a couple pitching machines to fling tennis balls at him at high speed. And he found, with everything he could do, and everything he was borrowing, that it took practically no effort at all to slide out of the way. When Reed didn¡¯t have a higher setting available, he¡¯d gotten a frustrated look, told everyone to hold on a second, and ran out of the room to a spattering of laughter. While he was gone, Sarah had said something, and James had seen five people in the audience, including her, start drinking cups of something all at once. Reed had come back with a third pitching machine - why did he have all of these? - and it still hadn¡¯t been enough to challenge James. The next time he came back, he brought everyone he could find from Research, and the basement turned into the most one sided game of dodgeball imaginable; fifteen people flinging projectiles, many of which were no longer soft tennis balls at James, just trying to hit him once. He laughed through it. It didn¡¯t even leave him winded. He twisted in ways his body, even enhanced by all the purples he had, should never have been able to. His feet were always where they should be. It felt like he could sense things incoming by air disturbances from ten feet away. Then one of the camraconda researchers, fed up with this, locked him down. ¡°Someone get him!¡± He echoed to his companions And from the other side of the room, he heard Sarah cheerfully yell a direction. And through the shared link to her network of bonds, five people who had downed a significant amount of reflex coffee and were sharing forms of speed with him shoved. Someone from Research flung a stress ball at his frozen form, an overhand pitch that a second ago he would have ducked like it was moving in slow motion. But now, a camraconda was holding him in place with its mock-basilisk eye. So it was somewhat impressive when James slid sideways, body at a forty five degree angle to where his feet met the floor, a whole salvo of projectiles moving overhead as he hit the ground, rolled, came up to his feet, caught another tennis ball mid-flight, flung it to deflect another incoming one he knew would hit his slowed form otherwise, and then took off at a sprint at a right angle to his improvised firing squad. ¡°Cheater!¡± Someone called after him. Probably the camraconda he was wrenching himself away from. It felt like moving through heavy gel, but James was moving. He kept his laughter on the inside though. It took the Research department another eighteen minutes of cheering from the crowd who were getting increasingly into their antics, and a dozen different magic items to finally land a hit on him. Even then, it was someone using the Friendly Fire power off one of the firearm bracelets and a whole salvo of paint grenades, to finally trip him up. Afterward, James was alight with energy, laughing and exalting in the applause and whistles of the assembled crowd that had contributed to him, throwing an excited hug around Reed and high fiving members of Research and anyone else who surrounded him. ¡°Alright!¡± He¡¯d asked the collective who had poured so much raw ability into him. ¡°Who wants to be next?!¡± Half the hands in the audience went up. Sarah made a list for them. Though a lot of those people took that back when they learned just how awful James had felt, when everything had pulled back, and his skin had felt like it didn¡¯t fit for two days afterward. _____ In a rush of flowing time, weeks passed. James picked up some Skills and skills, accidentally ended up with three emotional resonance ranks in sonder, honed his own movements, actually found time to exercise, and talked to members of the Order constantly. He and his partners had excited conversations about the potential for the future, about the things they were doing, and how they were finding new ways to improve and help. In between testing the limits of how much they could blend their minds together with the skulljack link, and testing the limits of how much sex they could have before one of their roommates surreptitiously knocked on their bedroom door and asked if they were okay, of course. Before he knew it, it was halfway through September, and while the world turned around them and things in the rest of human civilization got better or worse - mostly worse - James was starting to feel like he¡¯d gotten a handle on things. Which was, of course, a stupid thing to think. It was on a lazy Monday that was soon to be less lazy as he and Anesh prepared to teleport with a supply run to Townton, and spend a day exploring the highways and byways of Route Horizon, that his phone rang. Though it took James a second to realize it wasn¡¯t his main phone, but the burner he¡¯d picked up at the request of a certain individual who had made contact over the summer. As far as FBI agents went, Malcom McHarn seemed better than most. But that didn¡¯t make James less annoyed that he had to put his ¡®vacation¡¯ plans on hold. _____ They met at a scenic viewpoint off highway 26 somewhere on Mt. Hood. McHarn had taken pains to arrange a double blind of vacation time mixed with a semi-secret backing of ¡°I am going to check on this myself¡± for anyone who was watching to find. And by anyone watching, he meant specifically one of his assigned field agents. The one who was haunted. He¡¯d put a lot of work into making himself seem like he was on her side, and also the kind of guy who she could rely on to ¡®get stuff done¡¯. And knowing she was probably reading his emails, he¡¯d left a trail for her to find that would lead to the conclusion that his vacation was a sham, but that he was doing it for reasons she¡¯d approve of. James teleported. He¡¯d been there for twenty five minutes when Harn¡¯s car rolled up, and he continued reading his book until the fed actually got out and came over to talk to him. If you asked him, he¡¯d say he was just getting into the spy stuff. If you asked him for a real answer, he¡¯d say he had no idea what Harn looked like, and his book on the history of zoning laws was requiring a lot of focus to actually make sense of. ¡°James?¡± The voice didn¡¯t exactly shock him, but it did pull his attention. And it was slightly familiar, from a worrying month-ago phone conversation. He turned to see a man in a thick coat over what looked like a formal dress shirt and slacks. Chocolate skin, though a dozen marks of small scars on his hands and one on his cheek. Bald, in a deliberate way, which went well with the thick oval glasses he wore. ¡°Director McHarn, I assume.¡± He said. ¡°Thought you¡¯d be older.¡± The other man snorted, coming over to stand next to the wall between the gravel parking area and the sheer drop down the pine forest side of the mountain that James was sitting on. ¡°No you didn¡¯t.¡± James answered easily. ¡°I¡¯ve got a magically up to date military record.¡± ¡°Yeah, you do.¡± The assistant FBI director let out a long breath, a ghost of vapor visible in the cold air. ¡°Call me Malcom, please.¡± He offered hand. James clapped his book shut with one hand and shoved it into his own coat pocket, shaking McHarn¡¯s hand with the other. He turned, staying seated, but facing inward now. ¡°So. What was so important we¡¯re meeting out here and not at my place?¡± ¡°Well, for one thing, I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d want to give up the location of your operation.¡± Malcom told him with a cocked eyebrow. ¡°Whether or not we¡¯re talking, I do still have standing orders to treat you as a threat.¡± ¡°I am a threat.¡± James said, heart pounding at a speed that contradicted how simple he made the words sound. ¡°But also, does anyone remember giving you those orders? Actually asking, not being a jackass here.¡± ¡°Who knows?¡± Malcom sighed, and shook his head. Then, like he¡¯d made a decision about James, he turned and sat next to the younger man. ¡°So. You want to save the world.¡± He said. ¡°And you scared a lot of people. Can I ask¡­ what the hell did you do to DeKay? That woman has gone off the deep end, and she plans to take you with her. You know she¡¯s asking around about getting a drone strike on your headquarters approved?¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s terrifying. How¡¯d she even find it? I know that What Is Owed To Me isn¡¯t stronger than Planner is, and probably wouldn¡¯t put up with that shit anyway.¡± James tried not to clench his fists. Malcom glanced at him. ¡°Did you just¡­ how did you do that?¡± The older man sounded genuinely curious. Like he was examining the conversation under glass and not actually part of it. ¡°The capital letters?¡± James asked, and got a nod. ¡°You pick it up. I can¡¯t actually remember who taught me. And¡­¡± he felt something catch in his throat. ¡°I¡­ mean that kind of literally. Anyway. DeKay.¡± He felt a tear forming in an eye, and didn¡¯t know why. ¡°We treated her like we treat everyone. We were totally open about our plans and methods, we were willing to work with her, and¡­ I do not actually know what happened. She pivoted from working with us to trying to kill us so fast. If it weren¡¯t for the infomorphs on our side, I¡¯d tell you something mind controlled her. But I don¡¯t think that was it. Or if it was, it¡¯s something way scarier than I am.¡± James took a deep breath, let it out through his nose. ¡°You wanna talk about her?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± McHarn said. ¡°I¡¯m handling her. Though I¡¯ll let you know if that changes. Oh, don¡¯t worry about the drone strike. There¡¯s a lot of bad in the world, but bombing our own soil isn¡¯t one of them yet.¡± He shook his head as James considered interrogating the word ¡®yet¡¯. ¡°No, I contacted you because I needed to meet. I like to see people, before I put my trust in them. Perhaps a bit old fashioned, but I prefer it this way.¡± ¡°So, you drove out here for an informal hello?¡± James asked, raising his eyebrows. ¡°It¡¯s a beautiful place.¡± Malcom said, turning slightly to look out at the chilly afternoon light playing over the mountainous slopes of pine trees and eroded stones. ¡°And that¡¯s not the only reason I¡¯m here.¡± He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded envelope. Handed it over to James who took it and gave him a look with raised eyebrows. ¡°Look at it later. I can tell you what it is now.¡± His voice didn¡¯t waver as he stared at the highway, and the few cars passing by in occasional clumps of traffic. ¡°Six days ago, during a private business meeting, eighteen people were killed in an attack. Eleven were private security, three appear to be civilians caught in the crossfire, and four¡­¡± ¡°The last four were¡­?¡± James prompted, grimly curious. ¡°Executive account managers from the Vanguard Group and Fidelity Investments.¡± The man said. ¡°The main connection between whom, it seems, is a recent cooperative mobilization toward exerting financial influence on Exxon Mobil.¡± James blinked. That answer was actually more mundane than he was expecting. ¡°Uh¡­ that wasn¡¯t us.¡± He said simply. ¡°We¡¯ve got a whole thing about not doing assassinations. Also, what would this even solve?¡± McHarn didn¡¯t look at him. Just pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, put it in his mouth, lit it, and took a deep draw. James swapped sides to be upwind before he exhaled, ruining the gravitas of the moment a bit. ¡°That was six days ago. We became aware of it three days ago, when a car bomb eliminated two more employees of the Vanguard Group.¡± ¡°Uh oh.¡± James started to ask how he hadn¡¯t heard of this, when McHarn kept talking. ¡°And then, yesterday, nine seperate members of the board of directors, or highly placed executives, were eliminated in three seperate attacks, or by sniper fire. That we are aware of. A number of members of these firms have been unaccounted for for days, and may in fact already be dead.¡± ¡°Fuck me.¡± James whispered. Then, in an increasingly angry voice, added, ¡°What moron thinks this is a good idea?¡± He asked. ¡°This doesn¡¯t¡­ fix anything. This doesn¡¯t change anything! God dammit, the reason we haven¡¯t been doing this ourselves isn¡¯t because these people deserve protection or something, it¡¯s because it doesn¡¯t work! The money and power just transfer to the next monster!¡± He clutched the file Malcom had given him, and glared over at the other man, who took another pull from his cigarette. ¡°And in the meantime, random people get killed in the crossfire.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re approaching this from the same direction.¡± McHarn said, blowing smoke up into the sky and looking up at the clouds, quietly staring into space. ¡°But I am glad you agree the damage is unacceptable.¡± James glanced over, but then nodded. ¡°So. Why come to me, I ask, dreading the answer.¡± McHarn reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small plastic evidence bag. Gently, like he was afraid it might bite him, he held it out to James, who took it and looked at the five perfectly good bullets sitting in it. Five five six, it looked like. He looked up at Malcom and raised his eyebrows. ¡°Because.¡± The FBI assistant director to a department no one could remember very well said. ¡°No one seems to have noticed the attacks are happening.¡± And then, before James could really fall into the pit of dread in his stomach, McHarn added, ¡°And this is despite the fact that the group responsible continue to leave very explicit warnings at the scenes.¡± ¡°Warnings like¡­?¡± ¡°Essentially? Stop funding oil or we¡¯ll shoot you.¡± Malcom said. ¡°So. While I admit, our organizations aren¡¯t exactly in perfect cooperation these days¡­ will you help?¡± James tucked the bullets into his coat pocket. ¡°Of course we¡¯ll fucking help.¡± He grumbled. ¡°That¡¯s what we do.¡± ¡°I thought it might be.¡± Malcom said. ¡°Now. I need to get back to my hotel. Wife¡¯ll will be wondering how lost I got.¡± James wanted to say something about how the teleporter in his pocket could maybe skip a lot of the spy crap. But he held off for now, and just nodded to the other man as he got in his car and headed off. He sat there for a while, trying to stabilize his breathing. Things had been going so well. He¡¯d almost had a routine. But really, he supposed, this was a kind of routine all its own. Just another crisis on the table. One problem after the next. Until they were done. James pulled his telepad, and vanished. He needed to find Nate. Fast. Chapter 206 ¡°I think there are four or five serious philosophical questions. The first one is: Who started it? The second is: Are we gonna make it? The third is: Where are we gonna put it? The fourth is: Who''s gonna clean up? And the fifth: Is it serious?¡± -Alan Watts- _____ ¡°Nate!¡± James called loudly as he stepped out of the small side room connected to the Lair¡¯s dining area. It used to be the Response ops center, but since Response was now a hundred people and a lot of hardware, they¡¯d gotten a basement, and this room got to be a telepad landing platform so no one accidentally appeared in the middle of anyone else¡¯s lunch. James strode through the open spaces between the tables and seating, passing a handful of people enjoying simple lunches, the different branches of the Order coming together here to share food and swap stories. It was nice; warm light streamed in through windows that no longer existed, the smell of warm bread and the soft chatter of voices filled the air, and he almost wanted to stop and just drop in to say hi to anyone here. But he actually was here for a reason. So, instead of sitting in on Texture-Of-Barkdust talking about her first real in-depth interactions with humans outside the Order, or diving into the ongoing argument about casual use of shaper substance, or mediating whatever issue was causing a few of the young interns to glare a couple tables over to where Arrush was eating and desperately trying to ignore them. Okay, no, that one needed attention now. James only noticed it by chance as he was walking by, and he was actually in a hurry. But he had a minute to at least deal with the immediate effect. ¡°Hey.¡± He said quietly, sliding around the smaller table Arrush was eating at alone. ¡°You okay?¡± The dun furred ratroach, normally a fairly imposing figure, seemed a lot smaller than James was used to as he sat with his shoulders hunched, his slightly singed hoodie pulled tight by the smaller arms that weren¡¯t helping him work through his sandwich and were instead clutching at the fabric. ¡°No.¡± He hissed at James, almost angrily. James looked past him, to the equally angry looking teenagers, who were doing their best to not be noticed now that James had sat down. ¡°Right.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s fix half of this now, and half of this later. I gotta go talk to Nate, you wanna grab your lunch and come with me? We can hang out behind the kitchen.¡± He offered as he pulled out his phone and opened a line to Karen, asking her if she could have her people arrange a conversation between himself and the interns he was trying very hard not to be angry at. A conversation later, when this was less personal. ¡°N¡­ no.¡± Arrush shook his head at James¡¯ question. ¡°I should¡­ not be¡­ treated specially.¡± He didn¡¯t raise his eyes, half of the multifaceted orbs in his head clenched closed, only a couple left open to watch his food. The comment was so perfectly self-depreciating, James was almost convinced Arrush was a high school student himself. He let out a light huff. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not how it works.¡± He said. ¡°You¡¯re not getting special treatment, you¡¯re getting treated how I¡¯d treat anyone who needed this. Grab your plate, come on. You can help me explain our newest crisis.¡± He reached out and gently laid a hand on one of Arrush¡¯s chitinous paws before pushing himself up and standing. The ratroach seemed like he was prepared to argue, but when he looked up and saw James¡¯ smiling at him with complete earnestness, he just deflated. A feeling he couldn¡¯t quite explain replacing the fearful hostility that he was feeling, as he also rose to standing and picked up what was left of his slightly corroded sandwich. ¡°What has gone wrong?¡± Arrush asked as he followed James into the kitchen, leaving the seating area behind as they passed by the empty serving areas set aside for buffets when needed. ¡°Did you¡­ get shot¡­ again?¡± He asked with real concern. ¡°Why is that the first thing people¡­? No, actually, don¡¯t answer that.¡± James stopped his own question as he looked around the kitchen. Knife-In-Fangs, a familiar camraconda face, perched on a stool by the back counter, gently arranging premade salads, but he was the only one visible. ¡°Is Nate here?¡± James asked. ¡°I need him for his other job.¡± ¡°Back patio.¡± The camraconda said through their skulljack speaker, even as their actual mouth was occupied adding sliced vegetables to piles of various greens. ¡°They are being horrid.¡± James nodded. ¡°Yes. I, too, have worked with Nate before.¡± He offered his condolences as he pivoted past the commercial stove and around the corner toward the back door. Arrush followed him in a slouch, like he was worried he might bump one of the wire shelving units that had all their dishware stored on them, and send it all toppling down. James understood that; he¡¯d moved almost the same way in his first kitchen job. When they opened the heavy door that swung open too quickly and threatened to demolish the wooden post it slapped into, the first thing James noticed was that Alanna and Watcher-Of-Birds were also hanging out back here with Nate, for no discernible reason. The second thing James noticed was the back half of whatever sentence Nate was saying, which ended with, ¡°¡­right, but do you fuck is what I¡¯m asking.¡± James waved back at Alanna, who was grinning madly at him, and wondered if it was too late to grab the door and pull it back shut, and then it was too late as Nate glanced his way and grunted a greeting. ¡°This is why Knife-In-Fangs is hiding inside, eh?¡± James asked, stepping out and taking a breath of the slightly smoky air from the distant forest fires as Arrush followed him and found a spot on a wooden bench away from everyone else. ¡°He is shy.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds informed James. ¡°Also yes.¡± She answered Nate¡¯s question, and then retaliated with, ¡°Do you? There is concern for your communal presence.¡± Alanna cut through the conversation with a bellowed laugh. ¡°Wow, yeah, you kinda walked into that one.¡± She told Nate. ¡°What did you think was gonna happen here?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t fucking plan that far ahead.¡± Nate said bluntly. ¡°I just wanted to know if you guys,¡± he motioned with a hand to Watcher-Of-Birds, ¡°actually had sex, or if the relationships were platonic. It¡¯s fine either way, I was just curious.¡± ¡°The details of our bodies are still being learned,¡± Watcher-Of-Birds said, ¡°but yes, we can. And do. Sex, that is. Though some of my species want to change ourselves with the shaper liquid to better fit that desire, and our selves.¡± James held up a hand. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry to interrupt this,¡± he said, ¡°and I mean that. I would love to have this conversation about how the shaper substance is great and trans camracondas. But Nate, I¡¯ve gotta talk to you about a thing.¡± ¡°Is it a problem?¡± Nate asked with a resigned sigh, pulling off the black cap he wore when he was working in the kitchen and running a hand over his bald head. ¡°No, shut up. How much of a problem?¡± ¡°In general, probably a six out of ten? For us, personally, a¡­ two? Maybe?¡± James answered slowly. Alanna folded her arms and nodded. ¡°I like this kinda problem. Now tell Nate how you want him to make it worse!¡± ¡°Tell me the fucking problem first.¡± Nate said irritably. ¡°Okay.¡± James brushed his hair back and took a breath. ¡°Earlier, I was contacted by Malcom McHarn, the guy who runs the FBI¡¯s new ¡®huh, magic is real¡¯ division. Division? Sub-section? Whatever.¡± James shook his head sharply. ¡°I¡¯m getting sidetracked. He clued me into something that¡¯s been going on, and¡­ didn¡¯t exactly ask for help, but sort of I think assumes that we¡¯ll handle this.¡± ¡°Is it a political thing?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Because we¡¯re probably not doing a political thing.¡± ¡°What makes a thing political?¡± Watcher-Of-Birds asked. Alanna paused and held up a finger to her lips. ¡°I¡¯ll get back to you on that.¡± She said. ¡°It¡¯s not a political thing.¡± James interrupted. ¡°¡­Okay, no, it¡­ you know what? It probably is, it doesn¡¯t matter. Someone¡¯s violently taking out stock brokers. That¡¯s it. That¡¯s all. Currently targeting people who are actively investing in oil companies, as far as he knows.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ bad?¡± Watcher-Of-Birds asked. ¡°Killing is bad.¡± Arrush said quietly. Nate glanced over at the ratroach like he¡¯d forgotten that Arrush was there, and stifled what seemed like was a reflexive argument he had. ¡°Okay, so, that¡¯s probably disruptive if nothing else. But why did McHarn think it¡¯d be our problem at all?¡± ¡°No one has reacted to the killings.¡± James said. ¡°At least one of us here reads the news. Has anyone heard anything about a bunch of hedge fund execs being taken out with sniper fire, or messages painted in the blood of the victims?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for anyone to answer. ¡°You haven¡¯t, because somehow, no one is talking about the car bomb in New York City.¡± The car bomb was something of a sticking point for James. It was emblematic of the worst part of what was happening. Even at the worst of times, James was against casually murdering your problems. Yes, there were people out there who used their wealth and power to accumulate more wealth and power, and they weren¡¯t the kind of people who you could just explain a better way to and have them agree. They knew they caused harm, they didn¡¯t care, or if they did care they didn¡¯t stop. At a certain point, those people needed to be removed from power, but James was still optimistic about doing it in a way that didn¡¯t require murder. It was actively working with the ex-Alchemists, already. But even if violence was required, if they ran into people who would rather burn the world than give up even a slight amount of their privilege, James would absolutely not accept the trade of killing them if it meant civilian casualties. And offing secretaries, or setting car bombs on public streets¡­ well, even if a dark part of him just fundamentally did not care if parasitic financiers died, he still didn¡¯t want anyone caught in the crossfire to die with them. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ real bad.¡± Alanna commented. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± She asked James. ¡°Bodyguard the relevant targets, catch the attackers, see if we can spin it into more high value recruits?¡± ¡°I love that you¡¯re with me on the whole ¡®power of friendship¡¯ thing.¡± James told her. ¡°But I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a thing we can do.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Watcher-Of-Birds asked. ¡°Monitoring is easy, yes?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Nate, you wanna handle this one?¡± Dropping the chef role and assuming his persona as their intelligence director, Nate spoke with a professional tone as he explained to the camraconda. ¡°Security is more than just monitoring.¡± Nate said. ¡°To do it well, we need to be in contact with and have the consent of the target. And in this case, with the attacks spread out over what sounds like a wide range of options, there¡¯s a lot of targets. Protecting someone effectively requires a dedicated team, minimum six people, because you need to be near enough to cover them, have an exfil at all times, and be able to retaliate against incoming threats. Now, for us, it¡¯s not that bad. We can fucking teleport; a lot of rules just flat out don¡¯t apply to us. So we don¡¯t actually need to be able to handle a problem of any size for any target; instead, we need to be able to stall long enough for reinforcements, because we can count on reinforcements. But we¡¯d still need to have people on the ground near anyone who might get hit. That means putting our people at risk, and tying them up doing that instead of responding to emergency calls or delving or¡­ whatever the fuck Research does.¡± He shrugged and cracked his neck. ¡°We¡¯ve got, what, twenty people I trust to maybe do this? That¡¯s not enough to protect anyone. Especially not if they¡¯ve got some kinda baffler infomorph thing.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds nodded in a bobbing motion, her snake form rippling as she listened. ¡°Yes, yes. So, then, how do we save them? That is what we do, yes?¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m talking to Nate, yeah.¡± James said. ¡°I mean, I honestly do not give a shit about these people as individuals. But I¡¯d like us to stop the collateral damage, and add this to our organizational forward momentum.¡± ¡°James, you know people don¡¯t actually level up in real life, right?¡± Alanna asked him, leaning over to steal a chip off Arrush¡¯s plate, which he was holding but not eating off of, just watching the conversation. Alanna got as far as biting into the snack morsel before she stopped and talked around the bite she¡¯d taken, adding, ¡°Yeah, okay, I realize what I just said, shut up.¡± Her face flushing slightly as she rolled her eyes. He grinned at her, before adopting a more serious face. ¡°Heh. Okay. So, Nate. Suggestions?¡± ¡°People on the ground in the area. Start establishing local contacts, look for a pattern, gather intel. We¡¯re not gonna get lucky and catch a random attack, most likely, so our best option is to identify the attackers and make a preemptive strike on them. I can pull our rogues off training and local scouting, a lot of them are ready for this.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay. Do that.¡± He pulled out the documents the FBI director had given him, and handed the envelope to Nate, who took it with a crisp grab. ¡°Okay, yeah, I¡¯m on it.¡± Nate pulled out a flip phone and flicked it open, pushing a couple buttons and holding it up to his ear as he stalked around the little fence that separated this patio from the parking lot. ¡°Yo.¡± James heard him say down the line. ¡°Get everyone back here. We¡¯ve got a real job.¡± ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t in charge.¡± Arrush rasped out with what looked like a pulled grin on his vaguely insectile muzzle. James stuck his tongue out at the ratroach. ¡°I¡¯m not in charge.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ uh¡­ Alanna what am I?¡± ¡°Some kind of leader or something.¡± His girlfriend informed him sadly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s chronic.¡± ¡°Heck.¡± James snapped his fingers. ¡°Okay. Well. I¡¯ve gotta write a public notice to the rest of the Order about this. And then¡­ actually, Arrush, do you wanna tag along? I need to talk to you anyway.¡± ¡°¡­okay¡­¡± The ratroach¡¯s voice was laced with trepidation. ¡°You know he doesn¡¯t mean about anything bad, right?¡± Alanna asked, leaning toward the ratroach who flinched slightly as she moved. ¡°I¡­ shit, sorry. Are you okay?¡± She asked Arrush. ¡°You do not seem okay.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds leaned back to examine him with a critical camera lens eye. ¡°You should speak with James. That makes most people okay, as far as I am aware.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡­ weirdly accurate.¡± Alanna hummed. ¡°Good plan.¡± ¡°I am both wise and terrible.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds nodded. James sighed, looking between the two women who were still bantering. ¡°If you come with me, you can escape this.¡± James told Arrush. ¡°Okay.¡± The ratroach nodded a little more enthusiastically, the humor relaxing him slightly as he stood off the wooden bench, and followed James back through the building after James traded a quick kiss with Alanna He followed James in tense silence, secretly grateful that James chose the elevator to the Los Angeles office and not the stairs. Arrush didn¡¯t exactly understand why the Order¡¯s humans found the stairs to be that impressive, as it was just thirty floors of concrete steps, and had formed his own independent opinion that the elevator was much softer on his leg joints. His legs weren¡¯t digitigrade like his smaller boyfriend¡¯s were, and the repeated motion of stairs became painful for him quickly. More so than usual, anyway. James paused at the door to his own office after they¡¯d passed through the main floor that Recovery used as their planning and paperwork center. He stopped for two reasons, one to wave at Ferninand, the living potted plant that had occupied a place near their vending machine, and two to talk to Arrush. ¡°I¡¯m gonna type up a thing really quick. If you wanna wait with me, or grab a drink, or whatever, it¡¯ll be a few minutes.¡± Arrush nodded at him, and started to move over to the big floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city, suppressing the old gnawing voice in his head that he shouldn¡¯t let anyone see what he actually cared about. James didn¡¯t even consider that old fear of Arrush¡¯s. He just smiled at the ratroach looking down on the city in motion, and turned into his office to throw himself into the padded spinning chair someone had put here for him, and start composing a message. The first message was easy, because it was a short ping to Planner, asking them to set up a public hearing sometime in the next week. This wasn¡¯t pressing, exactly, in the same way that something that threatened the Order was. If they gathered intel that they needed to act on fast, they¡¯d pull together something sooner. But for now, there was enough of a lack of rush that they used Planner¡¯s email. ¡°They touch upon your mind.¡± The small voice didn¡¯t actually surprise James, because he felt the navigator starting to manifest in spectral feathers before he spoke. ¡°And you send email?¡± ¡°Email leaves a record and a reminder, and Planner is busy.¡± James answered. ¡°Mmh. Will this new enemy take us to strange places?¡± The navigator asked. James opened a notepad file and tapped at his keyboard as he thought about that. ¡°Probably.¡± He said. ¡°Maybe. I mean, teleporting around, sure. For some people at least.¡± ¡°And for us.¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± ¡°Because I know us.¡± The navigator sounded smug. ¡°I know you won¡¯t sit it out. I can feel that you want to go.¡± James snorted a breathy laugh. ¡°Go where?¡± He asked. ¡°Anywhere.¡± His navigator told him, fading back into nothing. James shook his head. ¡°Hey, speaking of restless, you still need to pick a name!¡± He said into the open air. ¡°Or¡­ maybe that¡¯s not restless. Whatever. I can¡¯t keep calling you a noun in my inner monologue!¡± Okay, so, maybe he did feel restless sometimes. But there was so much to do here, and so many dungeons to poke around, it wasn¡¯t like he was at risk of getting bored. Him being restless was a symptom of anxiety, not actual reality. And for now, he had an actual task to take care of, which he started on as Arrush slunk into his office and took a seat, the ratroach folding his multiple arms around his legs in a compressed ball of a person, only undoing that to poke a claw at a small potted plant on a thin table near where he was sitting. Attention, read the notice James put out. The Order of Endless Rooms has become aware of a potential violent group with anti-information capabilities. At present, there is no indication they are aware of us. Currently, we are beginning to move resources toward low-risk intelligence gathering, to get a better picture of the situation. Planner will have further information about a scheduled meeting to discuss ethical and practical concerns, as well as any early solid information. He looked at the screen, and then up at Arrush. ¡°How much information is too much, here?¡± He asked. ¡°Like, do people need to know what city this is in?¡± Arrush started in his seat, before tilting his head, looking up from the plant. ¡°Does it matter? We can be in¡­ any city.¡± He asked, curiously. ¡°Good point.¡± James deleted the half sentence he¡¯d started to type about New York, made a note to get a full record of all the information on their private server soon, and then hit post. Then he shut his laptop as a series of replies started coming in from the people who had a very close eye on the Order¡¯s alert channel. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, leaning forward and trying to meet Arrush¡¯s eyes. ¡°So. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°You wanted to talk.¡± Arrush said, the mix of English and Spanish coming out in a still raspy voice, but without as many panting gasps as he spoke. ¡°What is this?¡± He asked of the plant he was still examining. ¡°It¡¯s one of those succulent pots.¡± James said quickly. ¡°I got one from the last duplication batch. I¡¯m trying to see if I can grow finished potions, and not just the sap to make potions, and it didn¡¯t work, but I can¡¯t just murder the thing, and¡­ we¡¯re getting sidetracked.¡± Arrush nodded. ¡°Mmh. Not aloe then.¡± He said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Like an aloe. The leaves crack, into¡­ gel?¡± The ratroach tasted the word before nodding. ¡°Gel. Is that where the potion is?¡± ¡°I¡­ okay, that makes sense and sounds suitably magical, I¡¯ll check that later. But for now, come on, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°¡­a succulent?¡± Arrush asked, like he was hoping to avoid the conversation. James gave an exasperated look at the ratroach, before taking a steadying breath, and remembering that for all that Arrush was often more mature than he was, the big ratroach still just didn¡¯t have that much experience with people caring about him. ¡°I wanted to talk because you¡¯ve got a bunch of teenagers glaring daggers at you, and that¡¯s kind of unacceptable. And I¡¯ll talk to them about this later, but right now, I wanna know¡­ I dunno, what¡¯s going on?¡± Arrush stared at him for seconds that seemed to stretch on into minutes, until eventually he tilted his head down and stared at the floor. ¡°It is¡­ not important.¡± ¡°No.¡± James told him softly. ¡°We don¡¯t do that here. Talk to me, please?¡± The ratroach looked back up, like he was caught off guard by James actually pushing back against his attempt to disengage. ¡°It¡¯s not new.¡± He said. ¡°They¡­ think I am disgusting. Or violent. Or¡­ it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± He stopped and met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°Aren¡¯t they right?¡± Arrush asked, in a voice that told James all that he needed to know. It was a voice he¡¯d used himself, a lot, when he was younger. Almost never to anyone else, but often to himself. The kind of small voice where you were terrified that the answer you knew was correct, that you were the problem, actually was real. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°First off,¡± James started, trying to keep the low simmering anger he was feeling out of his voice. He¡¯d try to keep it out even when he talked to the teens later, but especially now, it wasn¡¯t helpful. ¡°I find it hard to reconcile you as a violent monster when you¡¯re the same person who¡¯s afraid to hit people too hard during kendo lessons, hums to plants in the vegetable garden when he thinks no one is looking, and spent a whole day crying when your pet iLipede passed away.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Arrush¡¯s eyes changed color, the exposed skin around them free of fur and chitin tinging a sickly, almost fluorescent green as he tightened his grip on himself and looked at anything except James. ¡°But even if that weren¡¯t true,¡± James continued, keeping his voice soft as he leaned across his desk, ¡°arguing with them on the point of accuracy isn¡¯t going to work. Because what they¡¯re saying, was never based in reality to begin with.¡± He sighed. ¡°This happens sometimes. The actual fact of who you are isn¡¯t important to them, because they¡¯re afraid, and they¡¯re letting it poison how they think of any ratroaches. And I honestly thought this that they were dealing with in therapy, but it¡¯s clear that at least some of them aren¡¯t.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m still disgusting.¡± Arrush mutter-whispered. James narrowed his eyes and offered a sly grin. ¡°Are you actually stating that, or do you want me to do the thing where I list contradictory stuff?¡± The ratroach gave a shrug, and made a noise that could have been a laugh. ¡°¡­yesterday I vomited out a lung chamber?¡± He said tentatively. ¡°Okay, I did actually wonder if the whole ¡®your organs grow faster¡¯ purple orb was going to be a problem. Are you alright?¡± James asked with concern. ¡°Did you talk to Deb, or¡­ Nnnnnathan? Nathan? Anyone in medical. Did you talk to them about it.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t want to bother¡­¡± James cut him off. ¡°Great! We¡¯ll go say hi after this.¡± He shook his head. ¡°You actually think that makes you gross? Psh.¡± He made a dismissive noise. ¡°We¡¯ve had a whole conversation, and you didn¡¯t choke on your own breath during it. Do you know how happy that makes me? No one should have to hurt like you do.¡± If Arrush had expected an answer like that, he sure didn¡¯t show it. ¡°You¡­ I thought¡­ you would be mad. At me.¡± ¡°Why?¡± James asked, taken aback. ¡°I¡­ I know¡­¡± he swallowed a lump in his throat. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t have a good introduction to life.¡± He said eventually. ¡°I know you¡¯ve got a lot of fear and pain still buried in you. But mad at you? Arrush, this conversation is to remind you that you¡¯re important, not to tell you that you shouldn¡¯t eat lunch in the dining room so as to avoid offending some petulant children who really need to learn better if they¡¯re gonna be working with us.¡± He watched the ratroach on the other side of his desk, as Arrush flexed his claws open and shut, and took heavy breaths, staring at the floor with mismatched eyes. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be so hurt.¡± Arrush whispered. ¡°Everything here hurts less. Why does this hurt?¡± ¡°Because you got used to everyone here being kind.¡± James stated. ¡°And that¡¯s good. And the problem here isn¡¯t that you expected kindness, it¡¯s that kindness didn¡¯t happen. Again, you are not the problem, okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m wasting time.¡± Arrush said. ¡°You have¡­ things to do. Not this.¡± He made as if to stand, but James beat him to it, calmly circling his desk and setting a hand on Arrush¡¯s shoulder, settling him back into the chair. ¡°I have literally one thing to do today,¡± James said, ¡°and it¡¯s hanging out in the basement with a bunch of nerds coming up with dumb magical synergies. Oh, and saying hi to Banana. Do you wanna come with me? I swear to you, you cannot get in the way more than anyone from Research already will.¡± Arrush looked at him for a long moment, before tilting his head away, the green glow around his eyes not exactly flaring back to life, but certainly holding steady. ¡°Yes.¡± He answered. ¡°And¡­ why?¡± ¡°Because I care about you?¡± James asked with a laugh. ¡°I thought that was kind of obvious. You and Keeka are both¡­ I dunno, you matter to me. I wanna make sure you¡¯re okay.¡± ¡°What about¡­ the others like us?¡± Arrush asked as James started trying to extract the plant pot from where it was lightly clipped to the table. ¡°The other ratroaches¡­ Oh! I¡¯ve been ordered to come up with a better species name, by the way! So, like¡­ suggestions are welcome there, since I¡¯m not one of you and it seems weird to say ¡®I need to do better¡¯ and then not ask.¡± James snapped his fingers as he interrupted himself, before giving a sharp shake of his head and getting back on track. ¡°Anyway. They are also people, and also deserve the chance to define happiness and seek it. But that¡¯s kinda abstract; they¡¯ll make friends and form lives here, but right now, they don¡¯t overlap me that much. I¡¯ve talked to them, and some of them made an impression on me, but we aren¡¯t friends yet. So I care, but more in the kind of ¡®everyone deserves this¡¯ sort of way.¡± ¡°Do you realize that you do that?¡± Arrush asked, leaning forward and slipping fully into Spanish for some words he didn¡¯t quite have English for yet. ¡°Do what?¡± James asked offhandedly as he fished around in his desk drawer for a handful of yen to feed the vending machine with on the way out. ¡°Answer questions wrong, but still in a way that is important.¡± Arrush asked, taking the opportunity while James was distracted to rapidly wipe the corrosive tears that had started to form in the corners of his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie. He had chosen black for his sweatshirt, so no one could tell as it gradually burned. ¡°You do it a lot.¡± James looked up at the ceiling, suddenly deep in thought. ¡°Huh.¡± He said. ¡°No? I guess I do now. Anyway. Wanna come with me and play with potions?¡± ¡°The people, or the drinks?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°¡­I¡­ didn¡¯t ask. Reed didn¡¯t specify.¡± James said as he held the door of his office open and let Arrush walk past him. He traded a friendly ¡®hello¡¯ with one of the Recovery investigators on the way by, the middle aged woman giving both of them the smile of someone who was trying to project friendliness, but also deeply frustrated with how hard it was to find a specific phone number. James grinned back at her as they passed; Arrush just nodded, finding he didn¡¯t know what to say or do in this situation. ¡°Anyway. Did you want a drink? I found a thing about thirty feet down the vending machine¡¯s button row that tastes like fruity gunpowder, and it¡¯s stupid how much I like it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not stupid.¡± Arrush whispered. ¡°Huh?¡± James asked as he fed yen coins into the machine, not having heard. ¡°Ah.¡± The ratroach twitched, his misaligned lower arms clutching at his sweatpant pockets. ¡°Yes. I will need a straw.¡± James handed him a can after the minute of required scrolling the non-Euclidean row of buttons to find the drink, and then started on ordering his own. ¡°We really should get you - and anyone with a mouth not shaped for cans - some good metal straws to carry around. Just make it easier on everyone.¡± He made idle rambling small talk as they waited for, and then got in the elevator, riding it down to Research¡¯s cluttered basement that always felt to James like it had been plucked from a particularly creatively designed university building. But he let his voice trail off, as he just stood next to Arrush while the minute long elevator ride took them downstairs, trying to think of what to say to the ratroach that was rolling the can over in three of his chitinous paws. It was¡­ not exactly strange. He maybe didn¡¯t have the right word for it at the moment, James thought as he lapsed into a kind of awkward quiet. But the way Arrush and Keeka, and from what little he knew of them the newer ratroaches as well, didn¡¯t map at all to human expectations, just continued to throw him off. It shouldn¡¯t. He should know better by now. But it was all too easy to slip into thinking that because Arrush could speak and write two languages, and had a familiar sense of humor that cracked through every now and then, that what he needed was healing, and not maturity or time to develop as a person. That he was a complete individual, and that while he had been traumatized by his life in the Akashic Sewer, that was a breach of normalcy that could be recovered from. And it was something that he could heal from, that much certainly was true. But¡­ he knew two languages, and hadn¡¯t ever really had a friend. Much less a social circle. He knew so many random little things, but had taken weeks to understand the why of the existence of cities. The ratroaches, all of the ones that were alive right now, were created things. Made as weapons, or artificial worshipers, or just for some twisted need of a cruel dungeon to hurt people. And James kept fucking up, because he kept letting himself slide into a comfortable rut of acting like they were people who had things like childhoods and parents, even when he knew that wasn¡¯t the case. Sometimes Arrush had a sense of humor that was exactly like James as he was now, in his early thirties. And sometimes, he silently tried to eat lunch around people who hated him because he didn¡¯t know how to ask for help and silently hated himself. Exactly like James when he was a teenager. He was a scattered arrangement of the parts of a life, but without the connecting tissue of having lived those parts just yet. Even if every day and every interaction saw him and Keeka growing into the kind of vibrant people that they always should have been allowed to be. It was a strange mirror to look in. Fur and chitin and antenna notwithstanding. Arrush even dressed like James when he was in high school. Though, to be fair, ¡®black hoodie and loose cargo pants¡¯ was kind of a timeless fashion, as far as James was concerned. Though thanks to the frequently used blue orb for refitting clothing, Arrush¡¯s hoodie actually had sleeves for all his arms, and was better fit than literally everything James had ever worn. So he was a bit jealous there. It actually did a good job of showing off just how broad shouldered Arrush was without making him look intimidating, which was kind of¡­ something. It was something. ¡°Are you¡­ alright?¡± Arrush asked as the elevator doors dinged open, before they stepped out into the Research basement. ¡°You are quiet.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± James looked over, having been lost in thought. ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ I was thinking about pants.¡± James said in what was technically an honest statement. ¡°¡­why?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°I think I started somewhere thinking about relative maturity, and then I got distracted.¡± James admitted as he held the elevator door open with a hand for a pair of camracondas carrying a cardboard box between them, their artificial arms propped against their bodies at an angle that would have been impossible with anything organic. ¡°Honestly, I have a hard time focusing on stuff. My mind wanders a lot.¡± He told Arrush as he led them down a well lit concrete hall, getting a wet hissing in reply that really could have meant a lot of different things. The basement that had started out as a cluttered warren of slightly chipped concrete floors and bare walls with poor lighting had undergone a bit of a transformation under the care of the growing membership of the Order. A lot of the cracks and chips had been filled in when they¡¯d patched all the bullet holes that had resulted from Status Quo trying to murder them all in their own home, but more than that, the place just felt more lived in now. Posters and photos on the walls, little personal touches, the soft sounds of activity in the distance, it all just made it feel less like being trapped in a dungeon and more like being in a place where people could enjoy being. They stopped off briefly in the medical wing to give Deb a moment of screaming into a pillow when she heard about Arrush¡¯s organ issue. When she composed herself, she mostly just made a dry comment about how this mostly proved purple orbs couldn¡¯t directly kill a person, and between this and El¡¯s bonus heart, that did seem to hold up. But if Arrush kept shedding lung tissue, he should come here to do it under safe monitoring. While they were there, James had stopped by Banana¡¯s room. The half wasp half crow girl had perked up when she¡¯d seen him approaching through the window, and then pretended to be asleep when Arrush had walked into view. James had ducked in to say a few words while Arrush waited awkwardly outside, and got asked if he was lost by two different passing nurses. The young girl didn¡¯t reply to James, even when he tried to assure her it was safe, so he¡¯d left feeling kind of down. ¡°Is she¡­¡± Arrush stood with one claw pressed against the window. ¡°Like me?¡± He¡¯d asked. ¡°Sort of, yeah.¡± James had told him. ¡°Then I understand.¡± He¡¯d nodded, and walked off, seeming not exactly unbothered, but like he really did simply know what the score was, and didn¡¯t hold it against the terrified creature from his origin dungeon. After that, there were just a few more concrete hallway turns. And then when James stepped out of the hall and into the main room that Research used as their chaotic meeting area, test zone, living computer nest, and¡­ probably a million other things, really, he had a moment of grinning peace. The place was alive with multiple species of people having a heated argument about space travel, a ring of desks and computers at different heights forming a pen for the shellaxies that the Order had brought here from Officium Mundi, and walls and tables and shelves around the outside of the room covered in magical items they were testing, prototype arm designs for the camracondas, freshly brewed potions settling, and a dozen other things besides. The room was also bigger than it should have been. Not by much, really. But enough that it wasn¡¯t cramped, and the paths between desks and tables were always easy to walk, and it was actually more impressive that the magic at play was so subtle. Quadrupling the size of the room would have been easy - and wasn¡¯t that a sentence - but doubling it without letting on was far harder. It felt good to come down here from time to time. Then Reed caught sight of him and broke off mid sentence to level an accusatory pointing finger at James. ¡°You!¡± He called across the room. ¡°You picked a fight with someone magical again! James you said you¡¯d stop doing that!¡± ¡°I did not!¡± James protested. ¡°To¡­ to the second part, to be clear. Also the first part! I didn¡¯t pick a fight at all!¡± Then he dropped his voice from a defensive yell to a normal tone in an abrupt shift. ¡°Also I¡¯m frankly impressed that you actually read that notice this fast. I posted that, like, twenty minutes ago. I figured you¡¯d see it sometime next week.¡± ¡°Does he think we don¡¯t know how alerts work?¡± John, one of the guys who had been around the Order since he¡¯d been rescued from Officium Mundi years ago, but had only recently really started to take an active role, leaned over and asked Columbia. The creature wearing the body of the older man just gave a sharp and unrefined shrug, saying something quietly about how they did not have a phone. James made a mental note to get the living potions phones, but he was pretty sure that had already been done, so maybe Columbia was just avoiding the electronic tether. Or messing with John. Reed ignored his coworker¡¯s antics, and continued attempting to berate James, who was mostly just taking the whole thing with an impenetrable good natured smile. ¡°You even picked a fight with rich people again! Why?!¡± ¡°First off, you don¡¯t know they¡¯re rich, only their victims are. Second off¡­ I dunno, poor people don¡¯t tend to murder each other with machine guns and car bombs? I feel like I¡¯ve had to explain the car bomb thing more than I really wanted to. Car bombs are bad. Can we just¡­ can we start there?¡± James asked, his smile slipping, voice tightening. ¡°Can we start with ¡®blowing up random people isn¡¯t cool¡¯? Because that seems important to me.¡± The young man who was in charge of most of Research stopped, and took a more appraising look at James. ¡°¡­Yeah, okay.¡± Reed said. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m on board. Good talk. So, why are you two down here?¡± James glanced at Arrush with an expression of emotional whiplash, which the ratroach returned with a rippling blink of his many eyes. ¡°I mean, for fun, mostly.¡± James said. ¡°But also, because I wanted to sit in on your weekly open meeting to find weird magical interactions.¡± ¡°Oh! Yeah, that¡¯s pretty much just Momo and Juan this week. Nik likes it, but is off being a medic or something. And Planner went off to plan a meeting, for some reason.¡± Reed narrowed his eyes at James. ¡°Cool.¡± James said. ¡°So¡­ where is that?¡± ¡°Oh, the room Momo uses for totem stuff, probably.¡± Reed said. ¡°Oh. Oh!¡± He clapped his hands together as he remembered something, and then pointed at Arrush. ¡°You!¡± The ratroach raised an unsteady paw, and pointed back at his own chest, looking around with jerky motions. ¡°Yes! I have a thing for you to try!¡± Reed turned and took two steps over to a shelf filled with transparent plastic drawers containing rows of settling potions, somehow moving thirty feet with those two steps. ¡°Where¡¯s the new one¡­¡± He muttered, pulling up a clipboard and looking over labels, comparing them to the posted notes. James leaned over to Arrush. ¡°You don¡¯t have to drink whatever he¡¯s about to give you.¡± He murmured. ¡°Still need a straw.¡± Arrush said back, but before he could continue, Reed dashed back over to them, having to take several more steps this direction and hopping over a shellaxy laying in the middle of the floor with a strip of label tape on it that identified it as Assorted Jelly Beans. Arrush flinched back, a drop of corrosive saliva dropping from the corner of his muzzle, as Reed, panting slightly, approached the ratroach completely devoid of fear and handed him a hard plastic bottle. ¡°What.¡± Arrush¡¯s voice was strained as he awkwardly shifted one of his smaller arms around to take the offered container. Reed, who clearly needed to work on his cardio as far as James was concerned, took a few rapid breaths before clearing his throat. ¡°It¡¯s the improved exercise potion!¡± He said, like that explained anything. Then he continued to not answer Arrush¡¯s actual question. ¡°Since we have more of the sap to experiment with now, with the whole greenhouse of magical pots or whatever Mars has been doing, there¡¯s been some attempts to improve the recipes the Alchemists had. So, like, this is just the regular exercise potion, but run through a distilling process, and made with less impurities. I think. It¡¯s¡­ okay, look, the potion process doesn¡¯t make sense, alright? But here, try this.¡± ¡°I have not¡­ exercised.¡± Arrush shrunk back, trying to hand Reed back the bottle. ¡°No no, just¡­ trust me, okay? I need an unbiased opinion.¡± Reed pushed the potion back, oblivious to Arrush flinching as he made contact. James held out a hand between them. ¡°Hey, uh¡­¡± he started to say. But Arrush beat him to it. Either deciding to trust Reed, or just wanting this conversation to end, he uncapped the bottle with a clumsy claw tip, and tilted it back into his maw. Then awkwardly swallowed, trying to keep his misaligned jaw closed so as to not drip. ¡°Reed¡­¡± James said with an amount of concern. But whatever he was going to say was quickly cut off as, next to him, Arrush practically toppled over, only barely catching James for support. ¡°Reed!¡± James barked out with a lot more concern. But then Arrush pushed off him, breathing heavily, and shook himself. And then stood up, eyes glittering as he looked down at his own paws. ¡°What did you do?¡± He asked Reed. ¡°Right, so, it does work on you?¡± Reed had a clipboard in hand and was making check marks in some boxes. ¡°What¡¯cha feeling? Oh, let me know in an hour if the aftertaste is still there.¡± ¡°It¡­ doesn¡¯t hurt.¡± Arrush spoke slowly, glowing blue tears running down from the corners of his eyes in thick drops that left black scorches across the fur and chitin of his face. ¡°Nothing hurts. What did you do?¡± ¡°Reed, answer the fucking question with a straight answer or I am throwing you into the sea.¡± James said quietly. Reed blinked. ¡°Oh. Uh, right. So, it¡¯s the exercise potion, right? Only this one you don¡¯t have to drink as much of, and it lasts a bit longer, and it eases muscle pain directly too. It turns out, the Alchemists were actually right about something, and that¡¯s the fact that actually finding recipes that work is a nightmare of constant trial and error, and so we¡¯ve been trying to focus on refining and tweaking the ones we know work. So¡­ you know, thought this might¡­ be a good idea? Because¡­¡± He was cut off as Arrush lunged forward and wrapped him in a multi limbed hug, the plastic bottle the potion was in clattering to the floor as he engulfed the researcher, still sobbing softly. ¡°I feel like Deb would¡­ uh¡­¡± James set a hand on Arrush¡¯s back. ¡°Something¡­ about unethical medical trials. Oh, whatever. You should let him go before he suffocates?¡± He said with barely contained amusement. Arrush did so, stepping back slightly, his motions already smoother and easier than before. Reed gasped in a breath, before brushing himself off and trying to play it like he wasn¡¯t both incredibly proud of himself and also unused to being hugged. ¡°Yeah, well. Glad that¡¯s good them. Uh¡­ it should last for an hour and a half or so. But we made a bunch. And we can make more, for you. Until the shaper substance trials are done, and you can get a permanent fix.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯ve got work to do. I¡¯ll have a package for you when you leave. You know where Keeka lives, right? I legit cannot find that kid.¡± ¡°I do.¡± Arrush said with a sweeping grin that cracked the chitin on his muzzle and left dripping lines of glowing blue trailing down the corners of his mouth. ¡°You wanna call this off and take these to him now?¡± James asked, honestly fine with ditching magic exploitation to see that similar reaction again. But Arrush just shook his head slowly from side to side, antenna bobbing where his hood had slipped down. ¡°He is¡­ speaking to someone.¡± The tan ratroach said. ¡°I will meet him when he is done.¡± ¡°Kay.¡± Reed shrugged. ¡°You can take him his then. Good to see you guys. I¡¯ve gotta get back to¡­ something? Server¡­ maintenance? Probably.¡± Reed cleared his throat, and, doing a poor job of covering his own embarrassment, fled back to his desk. James rubbed a reassuring hand on Arrush¡¯s upper arm. ¡°You okay?¡± He asked. ¡°¡­Yes.¡± The ratroach said slowly. ¡°I am. I am.¡± ¡°Cool. Let¡¯s go abuse some more magic.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush nodded enthusiastically. The next few hours, the two of them spent in what James would describe as a highly optimistic brainstorming session. Momo was as focused as she ever was on different ideas for construction and use of totems. Juan was a new face to James, but ended up being friendly and mostly concerned with the ethics of different magics and the changes they could bring. He and Arrush joined them to talk about how the vastly different dungeon powers that the Order had bits and pieces of could be joined together to create bigger and better results. Later, they were joined by Liz who was technically something like Momo¡¯s apprentice, and Morgan, who followed Liz and was technically allowed to be wherever he wanted in the building. It was a fun conversation. Especially when James hit upon getting them to look at the different magics they had not as sorted by dungeon, but sorted by category. ¡°Why¡±, he argued, ¡°should we say Office stuff and Sewer stuff and Attic stuff? We already know what they do, relative to themselves, mostly. So, let¡¯s look at things as categories.¡± ¡°Explain.¡± Momo demanded. ¡°Explain, but politely.¡± Juan added, politely. ¡°Explain, but Juan will make me seem less hostile.¡± Momo nodded. While Morgan and Liz tried and failed to not giggle at the exchange, James explained. ¡°Okay, a known example. The Office orbs are skill ranks, right? They teach us something. So, let¡¯s call that ¡®knowledge¡¯ as a category. Then there¡¯s the Sewer lessons. They require us to learn things. So, knowledge. I just think if we look at stuff as categories like that, we can probably find more corner case uses than if we just go down a list and compare what might work together.¡± He paused. ¡°Has anyone done that?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve done that.¡± Momo nodded, clipping one of the pencils orbiting her head but showing no signs of caring. ¡°Sort of. The list of what magic we have actually grows really fast, and every thing that gets added to it means there¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ more stuff on it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a process.¡± Juan added with a nod. ¡°One we can¡¯t automate. Or, well, not without making another AI. Which we are not doing.¡± A suspiciously specific denial. But one James wasn¡¯t about to challenge. Instead, the group spent a while looking over the complied lists of everything they were pretty sure was in the building or the Order had access to in some way, and arguing about what terms they should be using for categories. It was about twenty minutes into this process, after Morgan and Liz had left again, leaving the adults to their brainstorming, that Arrush, who was laying on the floor in a position that James swore could not be comfortable but looking completely relaxed, looked up from the binder he had been trying not to drip anything corrosive on. ¡°Reading.¡± He said. Momo nodded. ¡°Yeah, we do a lot of that.¡± She answered. ¡°No.¡± Arrush blinked at her, raising a hand to awkwardly rub at one of the antenna coming off his head. ¡°We¡­ yes. We are reading. But¡­ reading as a concept.¡± ¡°Like the Library?¡± Juan asked. ¡°The orbs there, probably not, but there¡¯s the words on things people can pick up if they know the words. Have we figured out what those do yet?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t think so, but that¡¯s a good use for language .mems.¡± James said. ¡°Also, is it just me, or are languages, and artistic experiences, kind of the two easiest things to put in .mems?¡± ¡°They are. But you cut Arrush off.¡± Momo tried to kick him, and learned that she was too short with where James had chosen to sit to actually reach him. Arrush nodded. ¡°The Library¡­ has books. But they aren¡¯t read. But you don¡¯t¡­ ¡®read¡¯¡± he made air quotes with his claws, ¡°the books from my¡­ from the sewer. But it feels like reading?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s sort of reading, sure.¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°You¡¯re right that we don¡¯t actually try reading the books from the Library, though. Like, they¡¯re all just random nonsense, as far as I can¡­ hm. We should get someone to actually look at those closely. Maybe. But sorry, Arrush. What overlaps with reading?¡± ¡°This.¡± Arrush held up the binder, opened to the list of potions, and tapped at one line. ¡°For reading.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Momo leaned back. ¡°Would that¡­ work?¡± She asked, looking around the room. Juan gave her a shrug. ¡°It doesn¡¯t cost us much to try it. We still have the Alchemist¡¯s stockpiles for a lot of their potions that don¡¯t cure cancer.¡± ¡°And we¡¯ve got lesson books on the list to be copied this week.¡± James said. ¡°This works out pretty perfectly. Want to turn learning into a superpower?¡± He asked Arrush. The ratroach just looked around the room, trying to find who James was talking to. ¡°Yes, you! Stop that!¡± He said with a laughing tone. ¡°You get to have magic powers too, you know!¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Arrush thought about it, then looked back up. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°No because you don¡¯t think you deserve it, or no because you don¡¯t want to take anything from a toxic culture that hurt you?¡± Juan asked, not looking up from his own reading as he gnawed on a cheese stick he was snacking on. Silence followed in the wake of his question until he looked up and saw people staring at him. ¡°What?¡± He asked. ¡°Are we not asking each other deeply personal questions all the time around here? Isn¡¯t that our motto?¡± ¡°Our motto is¡­ James tell him our motto.¡± Momo folded her arms and refused to admit she didn¡¯t know their motto. Not that James was any better. ¡°I want to say it¡¯s ¡®do good recklessly¡¯, but I feel like a lot of us have different mottos. You, for example,¡± he waved an arm around the room, ¡°have a motto of ¡®can I buy more lava lamps.¡± ¡°The second thing.¡± Arrush said, interrupting Momo¡¯s retort. ¡°Hm?¡± James looked down at where Arrush was laying as the ratroach rolled slightly to look up at him, pressing into James¡¯ legs. ¡°The second thing.¡± Arrush chittered. ¡°I do not¡­ want to¡­ I do not want anything to do with the sewer. Ever.¡± His voice came out as an angry rattling hiss. ¡°Okay.¡± James said softly, smiling down at his friend. Then he let the moment pass, and looked back up. ¡°What about the resistance programs to mitigate the potion side effects? Actually, what about using them to mitigate medication side effects? Does that work?¡± ¡°Unless you have a medication that causes wood, I don¡¯t think we have one¡­ Juan shut the fuck up.¡± Momo was absolutely not so short she couldn¡¯t reach her other apprentice. Who was already dying of laughter. James smiled, flipped the page, and decided to be professional. After he explained the joke to Arrush. And maybe only for a little bit. He still felt that distant tension. That he had to hurry up and wait to be told where to go to fix a problem. But here, talking to friends and playing with magic, he¡¯d be happy to wait as long as was needed. Chapter 207 ¡°Un jour je serai de retour pr¨¨s de toi¡± -Cindy¡¯s message, Disco Elysium- _____ Twelve hours later, well after the sun had abandoned the September evening, but before it was so absurdly late that everyone had gone home, James sat on one side of a desk in the gathering warehouse, fiddling with a magic item and helping Liz find stuff in the stacks of documents on the surface between them. They weren¡¯t monstrous stacks, not like you¡¯d see in a movie that was trying to drive home the point that this was business, dammit. But there were still enough folders full of reports that they blanked the desk in a labeled manilla formation. ¡°Heck.¡± James said as the blue orb he was holding popped, giving him a skill rank in toboggan and cleaning his fridge. ¡°¡­what fridge?¡± He muttered, puzzling over the alien information as it ran across his thoughts. ¡°Oh, whatever.¡± He grumbled, reaching for another orb and picking up the Status Quo glove again. He was trying, and failing, to create a magic item from a different flavor of magic item. The left handed glove wasn¡¯t a Status Quo original. For whatever reason - probably all the blood magic involved in their creation - those ones started out a lot more powerful, and leveled up a lot slower. This was a duplicate, the process the Order used to make it stripping away all its accumulated power, but also making a more efficient long term piece of equipment. Right now, it had two abilities stored in it; Break Wood at level five, and Shatter Stone at level one. Each one accumulating a single charge of use roughly every two days, it was only where it was because of a vigilant use of dungeon time dilation. It was also one of the less valuable Status Quo items they owned, duplicate or not. And so it was okay for James to risk blowing it up or turning it into sand or whatever else he might screw up while attempting to infuse it with magic from a different dungeon. Assuming the glove even came from a dungeon in the first place. ¡°Heck!¡± James barked out in shock as his hand slipped and he broke the other blue orb, this time not even failing the magic, just simple physical error. It netted him a skill rank in the history of the Mexican auto industry, which was depressing, and solved the problem of making sure his delivery wasn¡¯t lost. ¡°¡­was it lost?¡± He asked the air. ¡°Or does this¡­ what did I even order¡­?¡± He trailed off. Either way, it was probably a net good, so he carefully picked up another blue orb, and set back to his task. The Status Quo items held abilities, that generated charges, that could be used by anyone using the item. Those abilities then leveled up, and unlocked new abilities. And what James wanted to do - what a lot of people wanted to do, really - was to use the blue orbs they used to make their own magic, to add a new ability. Something that used the same structure of power as the Status Quo item, but that they had a hand in. No pun intended. It hadn¡¯t worked on any other item. They had a few people who were getting good at making dungeontech, but no one could make anything even remotely like the Status Quo gear. For now, it was unique. But if it didn¡¯t have to be, if they could just expand even one piece of it a little bit, then every future copy of that item would be stronger and more useful, forever. It was the kind of legacy building James normally didn¡¯t think much about. But then, he planned to be around for a long time. And as someone who averaged about one level up in his basketball Lesson every year, he felt comfortable making magic items that would really come into their own two decades from now. He ignored Liz glaring at him over the folder she flipped down, before she pulled it back up and tried in vain to get the papers to line up properly. The teenager had been here for two hours, and James, who was making magic items, was already close to restless. She was reading after action reports. He could not imagine being a human with that level of focus. When he was a teenager, he literally could not focus on something for more than twenty minutes at a time, unless it was trying to find physics exploits with the plasma grenades in Halo 2. So this was relentlessly impressive to him. The least he could do was try again on the magic item creation. There were a few things the Order had started to learn about making dungeontech. First, you needed to think like a GM. This was not hyperbole, this was almost literally true; people who had run tabletop RPGs, especially who had at some point had to deal with players who thought game balance was for suckers, just did better at this. You needed to be in that headspace of creating a set of conditions that were limiting, while still useful. Which led to the second trick; you couldn¡¯t be focused on making something that solved your problem. Or rather, you could, but it was fighting an uphill battle, and it led to quirks in items. And third¡­ third was weird. Third was that there seemed to be a sort of economy of vibe to the way things were made. Working with office supplies took less than working with industrial tools, working with professional dress clothing was easier than working with something like a hoodie. And, more than that, making things that ¡®felt right¡¯ for what you were enchanting was easier, too. You could, in theory, make glasses that changed the font of what you read and a pencil that let you write in infrared. But it would be so much easier to do it the other way around. And you could surpass those limits, but it took larger and larger blue orbs, and you could not stack multiple blues in a single object. With all that in mind, James tried to just let his creative thoughts flow to something that felt like it fit. He knew pretty clearly that trying to enchant a new ability into the glove that looked like the original powers was pushing it, but he had a fairly large blue orb here to compensate. So he just let his mind wander, since his last four direct efforts had resulted in broken orbs and weird skill ranks. What did a glove do? Well, it held things. Or rather, the hand did. It wrapped around a hand. It protected. But professional dress wasn¡¯t for protection, it was for style, wasn¡¯t it? And the blue orbs did seem to like their professional twists on things, even if they were sometimes sarcastic about it. James smirked as he had an image in his head of an author, or maybe a secretary, writing with a feather pen with a single glove on their hand. Something that probably never existed, really, but it was a nice image. What would that look like as a power? Something that made a pen? No, that was silly. And also not especially useful. But the part of his brain that was always fielding questions on game balance kicked into gear as he had the thought. A power relatead to pens. What could it do? Make a pen better? Maybe. Make a pen a weapon? No. Sharpen a pencil? Sure, all writing implements. But only for writing. He didn¡¯t even notice when the orbs he was holding silently shattered into glittering dust, which was pulled into the glove that he was holding. At a certain point, he¡¯d created an idea coherent enough and fitting enough that it just worked, and that was it. One new magic item. One new category of magic item. ¡°Heck!¡± He burst out, throwing his chair backward as he jolted to his feet. ¡°Yes!¡± Liz thwapped the folder she was flipping through onto the desk, unaware of the breakthrough that had just occurred. ¡°You asked me to do this! Can you please stop being so distracting?!¡± She said with the conviction only a teenager could muster. ¡°Sorry.¡± James grinned, not really feeling the apology. ¡°I got the thing to work?¡± ¡°Great.¡± Liz stared at him blankly, until she awkwardly looked down. ¡°Oh. Sorry. Great?¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine.¡± James¡¯ smile softened. ¡°How¡¯s it going? Do you wanna take a break or, like, go home? It¡¯s kinda late, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s only eight, and my mom is doing a class tonight, so I was gonna be hanging out here anyway. Momo¡¯s busy though, and Morgan¡¯s asleep, and¡­ I like being useful?¡± She looked at James then glanced away. ¡°I guess?¡± He set the glove on the desk. ¡°It¡¯s okay to like being useful.¡± He said. ¡°But it¡¯s not required, you know? You¡¯re kinda in a special position when it comes to this specific task, but we lived without you and you don¡¯t need to feel pressured on it.¡± ¡°No!¡± She seemed startled by her own instant vehement reply. ¡°No, I mean, it¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t mind!¡± Liz looked around the room, seeing the only other people in it were forty feet away and working on what looked like a suit of camraconda armor. ¡°I just¡­¡± she looked like she had a lot to say, but didn¡¯t know where to start. She did have a lot to say. She wanted to tell James that he brought her mom back, that he saved her life, that he broke her out of a doom spiral and made her sane again. But while Liz was smart, she was still a high school senior, and she didn¡¯t exactly have the words to say it. Didn¡¯t know where to find purchase to slip that into conversation. ¡°I wanna be useful.¡± She said with a tilt of her head. James heard a lot of the space where things weren¡¯t said, even if he didn¡¯t know exactly what she was holding back. ¡°Well, I appreciate it.¡± He told her reassuringly. ¡°And you can go at your own speed here. Got any notes so far?¡± The notes in question were any discrepancies with reality. Liz wasn¡¯t exactly a brilliant tactical mind, or the brains behind the curtain. But she was entirely, naturally, immune to antimemetics. Forced forgetfulness, information erasure, behavioral restrictions, it just didn¡¯t work on her. No one knew why, even Planner, who lived partially in Liz¡¯s head by invitation. But as a result of it, she was the perfect person to take a look at the Order¡¯s writeups of events, and check to make sure that no one had been compromised. ¡°Um¡­ there was a Response thing about them rescuing forty cats?¡± She half-asked, looking at her notepad. ¡°Was that¡­ a thing?¡± ¡°That was a thing.¡± James confirmed. ¡°We took them to a local no-kill shelter, they¡¯re fine.¡± ¡°Oh. I just thought, because there are no cats around here¡­¡± She waved a hand. James nodded. ¡°I getcha. Good thing to check, really. Also, it is weird there are no cats? I thought for sure at least one camraconda wanted a pet cat.¡± He trailed off. ¡°I¡¯ll check on that later. Anyway, got anything else?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ there¡¯s a lot of these.¡± The words were somewhere between a defense and excuse, as Liz realized that maybe one person was the wrong scale of team to read over the reports generated by over a hundred researchers, responders, and delvers. Her eyes held a note of distress as she looked at the table full of documents. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start. But, like, does anyone ever follow up on anything here?¡± ¡°That¡­ that is the point of this.¡± James tilted his head at her. ¡°Why, find something?¡± ¡°Well, there¡¯s a recent thing about animal orbs? And it seems like no one is doing anything with that? Is this¡­ is this a pokemon thing or something?¡± James sighed in relief. ¡°Oh! No, we¡¯ve been prioritizing other things to copy, and since some people incidentally picked up the orbs, we¡¯re waiting to dig into them until we have a little more to go on, which we¡¯ll probably find out also incidentally. It¡¯s not a great system, but Research is very busy, and we need more people.¡± ¡°Oh. Okay?¡± Liz sounded almost disappointed. ¡°What do they do?¡± ¡°No idea.¡± James said to her as he turned in his seat, having spotted Dave walking past. ¡°Though I actually see someone who I¡¯ve been trying to find to ask about this who doesn¡¯t answer his messages.¡± He raised his voice to call Dave over to them before the other man could make it to the access ladder to the roof. Dave curved his walking path to drop by the table they were at, stepping out of the shadows of the mostly unlit back area and into the pool of lamplight around their working space. ¡°Sup?¡± He asked James. ¡°Also hi Liz.¡± ¡°Dave, you work at an animal thing, right? Can you bring me a hedgehog?¡± James asked him directly. With a shrug, Dave easily answered. ¡°Probably not? But I can try. Why, trying to put together a Dr. Robotnik cosplay?¡± James made a shooing motion. ¡°Get out of here. Liz has work to do.¡± After Dave had sauntered away, laughing to himself a little too loudly, Liz looked up at James from what she¡¯d been trying to read. ¡°What¡¯s a robotnik?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll understand when you¡¯re older.¡± He said rapidly. The teenager gave him a belligerent look. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°I mean, maybe.¡± James shrugged as he leaned back and gave a real answer to that question. ¡°That¡¯s a thing that adults say a lot. My parents used to tell me that, and it was really frustrating. I think it¡¯s shorthand for ¡®there is a lot of cultural context here, and you might get it when you have had time to read and watch more, but I just do not want to explain Sonic the Hedgehog lore to you right now¡¯, you know?¡± ¡°Your parents said that?¡± Liz asked him, confused. ¡°I¡¯m saying that. Sort of. Anyway, sorry, I think I cut you off yelling at Dave. Did you have another one?¡± She pulled a stack of now-unsorted papers from the side of the desk, getting a wince from James as he realized they weren¡¯t copies. ¡°Uh, okay, what¡¯s up with all the dungeons you guys don¡¯t use?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well, there¡¯s no exploration logs from the Clutter Ascent, right?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James sighed. ¡°That¡¯s because people live there. We¡¯re not treating that one like a dungeon. Wait, you said ¡®all the¡¯. Are there¡­?¡± ¡°Wherever stuff like that came from?¡± Liz pointed to the glove on the table. ¡°Dead.¡± ¡°¡­and whatever is in Utah?¡± ¡°¡­Alchemists?¡± James raised his eyebrows at her. ¡°No, like, the dungeon in Utah. There were those kids, right? Morgan and Color and I hung out with them. The ones who¡¯s friend died and lives here now?¡± She stopped and frowned. ¡°Wait¡­¡± James nodded knowingly. He recognized the look on her face from saying novel sentences. Then the understanding look slipped from his face as his brain caught up. ¡°Wait, yeah, hang on. I remember this. We sent them home, informed their parents, and told them no more delving until they were older.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± Liz looked at him like she was either hoping or worried that he knew something she didn¡¯t. ¡°And?¡± ¡°And what?¡± ¡°And¡­ why did you do that?¡± She squeaked. ¡°Because that seems stupid?¡± As soon as she finished speaking, for a brief second, that was actually several seconds, James felt a rush of uncomfortable anger, tinged with shame. Who the fuck was this kid to tell him he was stupid? Liz watched as his face shifted instantly to a scowl at her, the atmosphere of the room turning hostile in a split second. ¡°Uh¡­ ah! C-code one!¡± She stammered out. James heard the words, and froze from where he¡¯d been about to stand up and storm off. ¡°What?¡± He snapped. Then heard himself, and slumped back into his chair, a wave of confusion coming over him. ¡°What?¡± He said again, softer. ¡°Code one.¡± Liz almost whimpered, shrinking back in her seat. ¡°You¡­ you¡­¡± An orange dusty light whipped out from James¡¯ neck and back as the navigator living in his mind manifested. The feathered set of limbs pushing outward in the vague outline of a coat with a high collar and a wide eye set in that collar, the ghostly feathered tail it brought out wrapping around the chair James was sitting in. ¡°Something is trying to cut lines off your map.¡± He bluntly informed James and Liz. ¡°I feel it.¡± James said. ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a pressure when I think about-¡° ¡°Stop that!¡± The navigator hissed. Then, a second later, ¡°No, wait. Do that again.¡± James did so, because being told not to think about something is basically the same as being told to think about something, and he was already doing it. There was a hiss of orange light, and the rustling of feathers like a single great flap. James felt a pressure, like a melange of anger and shame, building in his chest. But with no direction to go, it quickly turned inward, leaving him feeling disgusted with himself, making thinking or focusing on anything a real challenge. The navigator squawked something incomprehensible, a row of feathers along his flank burning away in a line like he¡¯d just punched into something on fire. And then, the pressure on James was gone. ¡°Haaaaaa¡­¡± he breathed out a long gasp. ¡°Thanks.¡± James muttered, turning his arm over to examine the navigator¡¯s manifested flesh. ¡°Shit, are you okay? Did you kill it?¡± ¡°I will live.¡± The navigator said. ¡°And no. Only tore a hole. Big enough for you, maybe one or two others. It¡¯s not smart or strong, just big.¡± ¡°Well, thank you.¡± He said. ¡°Do you need anything? Nap? Long drive to the coast?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll get on that soon.¡± James promised. Then he looked back up at Liz, who was still watching him with apprehension, one of Planner¡¯s tentacles coiled protectively around her. ¡°Sorry. Fuck, I¡¯m really sorry.¡± He said. ¡°I dunno why we didn¡¯t plan for security for this. That was really stupid. Also, you¡¯re right, the dungeon thing was stupid! Tell teenagers not to do a thing and expect that to happen? What were we thinking?!¡± James berated himself. ¡°Dammit. We need to get someone to Utah and¡­ and¡­¡± he paused, then looked down at his arm where the scorched feathers were already dissolving back into his skin. ¡°We need to get someone with infomorph support down to Utah.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Liz just gave him a slow nod. ¡°Are they gonna be okay?¡± She asked. ¡°If they are, they already are.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°Since they almost certainly went back into the dungeon, didn¡¯t they?¡± He looked at her with a sad grin. ¡°You would, right?¡± ¡°No!¡± Liz protested way too rapidly. ¡°Uh huh.¡± James¡¯ smile became a little more real. He pulled out his phone, and started composing messages, before realizing something. ¡°Dammit, I¡¯m gonna need to do this in person. They just won¡¯t react to messages.¡± He sighed. ¡°Okay. Hey, you wanna call it here for now? That was kind of horrible, and I don¡¯t wanna push it.¡± ¡°I¡­ uh.. yes.¡± Liz nodded. ¡°I can go¡­ bug Morgan or something.¡± She said, and James felt like he restrained himself very nicely from raising his eyebrows at her. Taunting the kids, even if he thought it was in good fun, was the opposite of the world he wanted to build here. ¡°Oh, there was one other thing from way at the start?¡± Liz asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s¡­ that weird¡­ but, do you know someone named Frank?¡± ¡°Used to.¡± James nodded. ¡°I mean, I guess I still do. Why?¡± ¡°Well, why¡¯s he in prison?¡± Liz asked. ¡°Because it was an efficient way to remove his ability to hurt people.¡± James stated, a hard tone to his voice as he remembered that Frank had been selling people to one of the real monsters of Officium Mundi. Trading lives for a few thousand bucks here and there. ¡°And it seemed nicer than killing him.¡± ¡°Oh. Okay. I just thought¡­ ah, nevermind.¡± Liz set the folder she was looking at back, and let Planner help her up. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go?¡± ¡°Sure, sure. But, like, it¡¯s okay if you share your thought, you know? Pretend I¡¯m not a stuffy adult if it helps.¡± James joked. Liz shrugged, not really looking at him. ¡°I just thought you guys didn¡¯t like prisons.¡± She said, before she said something James didn¡¯t really hear about doing this smarter next time, and heading out. Leaving James sitting at a desk covered in folders, staring at the far wall of the warehouse, not reacting to the delve team that came in to add their route up Winter¡¯s Climb to the growing map of the mountain. He sat there, staring down at his own hands, for a few minutes completely silent. Until he looked up at the ceiling, considered screaming, and instead just said, ¡°Well fuck.¡± Over a year of actually committing to the process of restorative justice, working with people who had done way more damage than Frank ever had, and James had just¡­ fucking forgotten. Not out of an antimeme or hostile infomorph or anything he could excuse. He¡¯d basically just ditched Frank in a cell somewhere and dusted his hands off, problem solved. He waved off the delve team that was giving him concerned looks, assured them he was fine, and chatted with them for a bit while he put all the folders away. He didn¡¯t recognize any of them except Ethan, the overly excitable early twenties guy having gone through a tempering of sorts. He was still overly excitable, but his enthusiasm was a lot less self-centered and oblivious now. The others included a pair of human women who were doing the nearly constantly skulljack link thing, an authority that was on the cusp of being a person, a camraconda still bundled in a snake-shaped parka, and a laminated paper dragon named Elegan that was the size of a horse and kept trying to eat James¡¯ coat. The dragon, apparently, was the mount for the camraconda when they escorted people up the mountain. Their team had been sort of ad hoc thrown together by Sarah and Karen, according to them. But it had grown over the last month into something reliable and effective, and they were preparing for a dedicated treasure hunting run to look for more Climb books in the near future, and to see if they could get high enough to unlock a second spell slot. The girls, who went by Marlea, a name James was certain was a portmanteau, asked if James had the power to get them more of the wood resistance programs. He told them he¡¯d see what he could do, while in the back of his head wondering what the fuck Research was doing with the massive server farm they kept expanding. It wasn¡¯t until he¡¯d already left with a vague idea of heading down to one of the basements to wrap up some loose ends that he remembered the glove, and darted back into the cool warehouse area to grab it off the desk. Already, his victory on doing something to it felt a little sour, but he couldn¡¯t help be excited as he prompted the copied item to tell him what it could do. The first two abilities were expected, and the same. Break Wood five, Shater Stone one. But then, beyond that, there was a third thing. Something new. Something that had worked. A magic power infused into a different magic item, following a different set of rules, and, importantly, telling James what it was. At least, a little bit. Partially. It told him it was called Evoke Quill. Level one, no charges, fifty uses to level up, and a cooldown of half a day. He had no idea what it did, and yet, seeing that third line of information alongside the two familiar ones was an electric rush of satisfaction. He had proven it worked, that it even could work. And now, the door was open to more. To see where this new angle of magic could take them. Eventually. After at least fifty days, for this one. Maybe forty days, if they really streamlined their time dilation exploitation. And even then, probably more days after. Spells on these things didn¡¯t seem to unlock anything until levels above two. James thought about the brooch that purified food, and how it had recently unlocked the ability to bind itself to a ¡®processor¡¯, and he gave a chuckling wince at the thought. That ability wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere for a decade, and so far, it seemed to be a meta power with nothing to influence, making it about as useful as the gun bracelets when all they could do was tether themselves to a weapon once every year or so. It was just very cool. And while he didn¡¯t have much of a need for a quill, evoked or otherwise, James was still generally excited to see where someone who was better at this, like Anesh or the living potion Bea, could take the art of enhancing Status Quo items. For now, though, he was still feeling that lingering anxiety of hurrying up and waiting for JP or Nate or someone to report back to him and tell him where to go to solve a problem, and so, instead of going home and going to bed like a normal person, James went back to looking for things to do to keep himself busy until he was exhausted. Halfway through waiting for the elevator, James¡¯ brain caught up to the fact that, while he might not be able to give specific orders about the Utah dungeon without an infomorph on hand to help, he absolutely had an easier way to contact the scout team than waiting to stumble into one of their members. Because he lived in the future, and had a smartphone, and sending someone the sentence ¡°I need to talk to you, what¡¯s a good time to meet?¡± Was something even the most finicky memeplex probably wouldn¡¯t mess with. And if it would, then it was already way too late for the Order to save themselves anyway. So James sent that message, and then got on an elevator feeling a lot less overwhelmed. He¡¯d been on an antidepressant that had been working for him for months now. But that didn¡¯t just make every problem his brain had magically go away. And sometimes, he still ran into bouts of exhausted despair when he had more than one thing to do at a time, and was foolishly trying to keep the whole picture of every problem at the front of his brain. So it really was a big help to throw the ball into Charlie¡¯s side of the court, and go back to just worrying about the big thing. The big thing, which was that a mysterious group of assassins were killing investment bankers and stock brokers, and he couldn¡¯t do anything about it right now. The big thing, which was the thing he was trying to distract himself from. But he could distract himself from a single problem at a time. That was easy. The elevator let him out into the sunlit garden mezzanine of one of the basements, cool sunset light that would have been normal to see upstairs maybe three hours ago pouring through the skylight ceiling and onto the pair of trees growing through the center of the circular space. A balcony overhead had someone on it doing some light pruning of one of the trees, while someone else worked at watering the ground cover plants with a set of mechanical arms on their serpent body. James nodded politely to the gardeners as he walked past, and headed for the hospital segment. It was still acting as a secure area, at least two ratroaches here under quarantine until they fully tested negative for anything hostile to human life. But James wasn¡¯t here to visit them just yet; that would be in the next week or two. Instead, he was here to say hi to Alanna¡¯s wasp friend, who actually had decided to start calling herself Banana, much to Alanna¡¯s semi-exaggerated exasperation. ¡°Now, remember,¡± the nurse on duty told James as she walked him back, ¡°no sudden movements, don¡¯t raise your voice, and if you need assistance, there¡¯s a call button over the bed and by the door that will alert either of us.¡± She gave James an appraising look. ¡°Be nice to the poor girl.¡± She told him suspiciously. ¡°Thank you.¡± James said, as he set a hand on the room¡¯s door. The nurse nodded at him. ¡°Oh, and Deb would like me to tell you that she has the power to have you thrown into the ocean if you ¡®do anything overly dramatic again¡¯.¡± She eyed James, looking for a reaction. The reaction she got was James turning slightly red, and breaking eye contact. ¡°Yes, I am¡­ the ocean? Really?¡± ¡°She said ¡®the sea¡¯, but I assume she means the Pacific.¡± ¡°Good to know.¡± James tried an awkward smile. ¡°I¡¯ll refrain this time. I¡¯m just here to say hi.¡± He distangled himself from the prying gaze of the newly hired nurse, made a mental note that whoever had picked her out had done a good job finding someone who so easily identified Banana as a girl and a victim to be treated kindly, and not a monster or something else. The door, he left cracked open, remembering that most of the ratroaches he¡¯d talked to down here got very nervous if they felt like he¡¯d sealed them into the room. ¡°Hyyyylo.¡± Banana buzzed the word at him with a warbling squawk through her open beak. She¡¯d been, according to Alanna, struggling very hard to form words without skulljack assistance. And she¡¯d perked up as James came in, but then, as if remembering suddenly, shifted into a more reserved posture where she was sitting on the hospital bed and tried to peer around him. ¡°Hey Banana.¡± James said softly. And then, with a sad twist to his smile, added, ¡°Arrush isn¡¯t with me today, it¡¯s just me.¡± ¡°Kaay.¡± She cawed at me. And then, with the small wireless speaker paired to the Bluetooth she had her skulljack connected to, she added in more level English, ¡°Is good. Scares me.¡± ¡°He¡¯s¡­¡± James suppressed the urge to get mad on Arrush¡¯s behalf. Especially after the day he¡¯d been having, he wasn¡¯t particularly interested in letting people be rude to the big ratroach behind his back. ¡°You know he¡¯d never hurt you, right?¡± James asked her quietly. ¡°He¡¯s like you. Like a lot of people here.¡± Banana cocked her head to the side and opened her beak again, the crack down its side still not healed and probably never fully whole again. ¡°Still scarrrrry.¡± She intoned with a buzz. James sighed softly. ¡°Well, we¡¯re all kinda scary, aren¡¯t we?¡± He smiled at her. ¡°Have you been feeling better?¡± He asked more directly. The girl nodded, feathers on her head splaying as the antenna that flowed back from her skull bobbed with the nod. ¡°Yes!¡± She squawked, adding with her digital voice, ¡°Less sleeping for me! Deb says¡­ says¡­¡± Banana leaned forward, breath wheezing out of her compressed lungs as she rustled her wings slightly, but kept them closed under her shell. ¡°She teaches me about me. Soon we can try¡­ the thing.¡± She looked at James with her single remaining eye. ¡°And then¡­ and then¡­¡± The words trailed off. James settled into the chair by the side of the bed. ¡°And then, something different!¡± He said happily. ¡°But hopefully something good, right?¡± ¡°Riiiight!¡± She cawed. ¡°I knew Deb and Reed and co were making progress on the shaper substance thing, I just didn¡¯t think we were ready to start person trials.¡± He tapped at his chin. ¡°You feel okay with that?¡± He asked her. The wasp girl just shrugged, the elytra that hid her wings rising and falling in a way that mostly just messed up the hospital gown she was wearing. ¡°Maybe? I want to be an elephant.¡± ¡°I¡­ what?¡± ¡°Elephant!¡± She tilted her head back and tried to emulate an elephant¡¯s trumpet. It didn¡¯t work. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­¡± James clamped his lips shut, tried to keep the booming laugh from escaping. ¡°You like¡­ elephants?¡± He asked. Banana vigorously nodded, and then seemed to regret it almost instantly as she started drifting from side to side, her good eye unfocused. ¡°They are a good mammal.¡± She said. ¡°Largest land mammal! Eat three hundred pounds a day. Tusks made of ivory; poaching is an ex¡­ exis¡­ existential problem.¡± Banana stopped wobbling and looked at James with that glitteringly intelligent single eye, a sudden amount of focus that made him feel like he was being hunted. ¡°When I am better, I will kill the poachers.¡± She said calmly through her skulljack. ¡°I do not know what kind of land mammal they are.¡± There was a lot to unpack in that sentence. Including the fact that someone was going to have to talk to her about the ethics of murder sometime in the near future. But right now, James wasn¡¯t here to start a debate, especially with how tired she looked. ¡°You know a lot about elephants.¡± He told her without trying to hide the pride in his voice. Banana gave him a sleepy nod, her eye already drifting closed as she leaned back into the pillows. A second later, she was unconscious again, and James waited a minute before he quietly rose and left, shutting the door behind him. ¡°So, did someone give her a skill orb on elephant facts?¡± James asked the nurse as he left. ¡°Animal Planet.¡± The nurse answered simply, looking up from the skulljack link she was doing something with. ¡°Poor kid can¡¯t really leave, so she watches a lot of Animal Planet. Not sharks though. They scare her.¡± ¡°I should bring her the stuffed shark I have.¡± James mused. ¡°No one can be afraid of sharks with that guy around.¡± ¡°Check with Deb to make sure that doesn¡¯t fall under dramatic gestures first.¡± The nurse wisely told him as he left. Before he went, he requested and received a digital copy of the current shaper substance research. Actually making use of the technorganic marvel that was the skulljack he had in the back of his neck, James mentally flipped through the document on his phone as he wandered aimlessly through the Research basement. There were two big barriers to safely using the shaper substances. Needed knowledge, and pain. It was possible to just have an impression of how you wanted to change, and make that happen. But the more you knew about your own biology, the more focused you could be, the faster it went. And speed was a factor, because you needed a lot of the substance to keep up the effect for longer periods of time. And also, because of that second problem, the pain. Using the shaper substance hurt. Not just what you were changing, though apparently that hurt more than anything else. Of the recorded testimonies from sophont¡¯s who had used it, two of them were from ratroaches and so the pain couldn¡¯t exactly be balanced against human pain tolerances. But there were humans who had tried it, either in tiny microdose amounts as part of testing, or in large quantities because Nik was a fucking idiot sometimes. The pain was always described as ¡®the worst they had ever felt¡¯. Which, naturally, made focus challenging. Nik was an outlier, but the small tests had been pretty conclusive. The more you knew about your own body, the faster you could make it work. And you could control the pain, without lessening the effect. Of course, things that controlled that level of pain, like morphine, also had a negative impact on focus. Which, according to the information from their resident ratroaches, was often far worse than simply living with whatever you were trying to fix. Sometimes it was lethal. Other times it was worse. James sighed as he entered the Research communal pod, and stole someone¡¯s empty chair. All the chairs were empty; it had gotten to be fairly late at night, and no one was here right now except a bunch of dozing shellaxies in the pen in the middle of the room. ¡°I dunno if I could do this.¡± He said to himself. ¡°I¡¯d love to have a better body, but this¡­ this is a lot.¡± He didn¡¯t quite say it to himself, though. There was a whisper of orange glow as his navigator wrapped around his collar. ¡°I could try it.¡± The navigator stated. ¡°You¡­ I mean, you have a body, sometimes. That¡¯s an interesting thought.¡± James considered kicking his feet up onto this person¡¯s desk and leaning back, but settled for just tilting his head back and hoping his back pain went away on its own. ¡°Do you want to change yourself? More than you already can.¡± ¡°I cannot change myself.¡± The navigator said. ¡°I am always the same. Just sometimes I¡¯m different. But different in the same ways.¡± ¡°I am¡­ getting too tired.¡± James stated. ¡°Because I almost understood that.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± The navigator hummed at him. ¡°I will change in my way. You can try changing this way.¡± James nodded, spinning the chair and idly reading the big list of blue powers that were written on a whiteboard on the wall. ¡°That actually does remind me. Despite having your fruit name sniped out from under you, did you have anything you wanted to be called?¡± ¡°Zhu Bajie.¡± The navigator answered instantly. James blinked, the unfamiliar name taking him more than a few seconds to process as he stared at the writing on the wall with a blank look. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± The navigator curled its feather form up his neck and partially into his field of vision. ¡°Zhu Bajie. I like what they are.¡± ¡°They¡­ I¡­ where did you even get that name? I don¡¯t think a single person working here right now has a Chinese name. Though, to be fair, I don¡¯t know everyone by name anymore.¡± He trailed off. ¡°But also what is that name?¡± ¡°I stole it.¡± The navigator - Zhu, now, James supposed - announced. ¡°It is from a story.¡± James raised his eyebrows and waited, silently prompting an explanation. ¡°It is an old story, I think. Journey To The West. I am still learning it.¡± And now James was more confused than ever. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± He said, arresting the ongoing slow spin of the chair he was in. ¡°I haven¡¯t ever read that. I saw ten minutes of the bad modern day version movie of it, when I was, like, twelve. And then a much worse video game later on. How do you know it?¡± ¡°I know all stories about traveling.¡± Zhu told him smugly. ¡°I can see them out there, and read them if I stretch.¡± ¡°That is so cool.¡± James instantly latched onto the concept of a personal thematic library, drifting through the ether. ¡°Wait, so, the two characters I know for sure through cultural osmosis are Monkey, and¡­ Tripitarka? Which character is Zhu Bajie?¡± ¡°The pig.¡± Zhu answered with a joyous tone to their manifested voice. James thought about that for a second, then pursed his lips. ¡°Wait. Wait, no. The pig demon who constantly causes everyone problems?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Zhu cheered. ¡°And sometimes fixes problems! He is perfect.¡± ¡°If this were a book, this would be ominous foreshadowing.¡± James pointed out. ¡°But then, I can¡¯t really tell you to repress your nature. Please don¡¯t get me covered in soda again or anything.¡± ¡°¡­What?¡± The navigator asked. ¡°Long story.¡± James said, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± He looked up as someone wandered into the space. ¡°Momo! Hey! Are you busy?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The girl answered instantly, like a liar. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°I just want to drop off a magic thing, and talk to Reed or someone about it. Is anyone in, do you know?¡± She shrugged, tugging the midnight black bathrobe she was wearing tight around herself. ¡°I mean, most of them go home at night.¡± She said. ¡°I think some of the engineers are in the design lab, working on-¡° ¡°We have a design lab?¡± ¡°Yeah dude, we have a bunch of different segmented spaces for work and testing.¡± Momo told him. ¡°Ever since we started abusing orange totems. How often are you down here?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t get out much.¡± James admitted. ¡°Anyway. Camraconda arms, or something. Those guys basically don¡¯t sleep. I think Chevoy actually literally has a purple that lets her turn energy drinks into naps or some bullshit.¡± Momo sighed wistfully. ¡°If only I could be so irresponsible with my body.¡± She mused. ¡°Deb finally put you on medical arrest from making red totems, huh?¡± James smirked at her. ¡°No one can prove the brain damage was really happening!¡± Momo accused the world itself of unfair behavior. James rolled his eyes. ¡°Except the MRI.¡± He said. ¡°Anyway, you¡¯re nominally in charge of our magic department. Here.¡± He tossed her the glove he¡¯d enchanted, and then nudged a block of text through his skulljack and into his phone. ¡°I just sent you my observations and thoughts on it. Creation¡¯s a little different, but it works. Your initial hunch was right.¡± ¡°Fuck yessss.¡± Momo grinned wolfishly. ¡°You know what I¡¯m gonna do?¡± She demanded. ¡°No, because I¡¯m tired.¡± James said, voice coming out sharper than he meant. Momo paused, and looked at him with a worried expression. ¡°You okay?¡± She asked. ¡°You look tired.¡± James couldn¡¯t help but give a small laugh at that. ¡°I¡¯ve been up for a while. I¡¯m waiting on JP or Nate to contact me about¡­ about the thing.¡± ¡°Can you convert energy drinks to naps?¡± Momo asked. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then go the fuck to sleep?¡± She shrugged. ¡°If it¡¯s really important, they¡¯ll tell you tomorrow.¡± ¡°Or I can wait for Sarah to get here and mooch a nap off her.¡± ¡°Sarah doesn¡¯t come in on Mondays.¡± Momo reminded him, rolling the long side of her hair around her knuckles and giving herself temporary curls. ¡°Even I know that. Why do I know that?¡± James groaned. ¡°I¡¯m going to bed.¡± He announced. ¡°And then driving to the coast tomorrow.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± Momo didn¡¯t even bother to question him. ¡°Can I come?¡± ¡°Sure. Goodnight.¡± James slid out of the chair, and stalked out of the room, leaving Momo to slip the glove onto her hand and start rummaging through drawers looking for a pen that wasn¡¯t magical. He¡¯d had a long day. And as much as he felt like he needed to wait until something came up, the part of his brain that couldn¡¯t keep his eyes open any longer knew that he was being an idiot. James needed to sleep. Momo was right. The problem would still be there for him tomorrow. Chapter 208 ¡°For people who hate socialism, libertarians sure do like being publicly owned.¡± -Aubry G- _____ ¡°James¡¯ phone, this is James.¡± James said into the phone he¡¯d hastily pulled out of his pocket and left on his kitchen counter as he made breakfast for his partners. ¡°You know that it¡¯s impossible to dial wrong numbers these days, right?¡± JP¡¯s voice, made slightly tinny through the speaker, asked him. James rolled a sausage in the pan with one hand while the other folded a pan full of scrambled eggs. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that.¡± He said, only barely actually paying attention to JP as he let a half dozen different cooking skills guide how much salt he added to the eggs. ¡°But what if someone had kidnapped you and was calling me for ransom? They might need to know.¡± ¡°They would still have pushed the button for James on my¡­ why am I engaging with this?¡± JP trailed off. ¡°Your guess is as good as mine!¡± James said, plucking a sausage out of the pan with his tongs and leaning slightly to hold it out to Auberdeen, the dog gently taking the cooked meat in her teeth before shambling away to the plate she had on the living room table, the dog carefully making herself comfortable before taking small, precise bites of the sausage. ¡°Anyway, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°You busy today?¡± JP asked. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of going to the beach.¡± James said. Something about how JP had asked the question set his anxiety off, but he forced an easy tone regardless. ¡°Sand. Sea. Lack of sun because it¡¯s September.¡± ¡°I am excited for sea.¡± Zhu said in a soft voice, a single small translucent orange limb splitting off from James¡¯ forearm as he helped stir the pancake batter. James smiled. He¡¯d made a promise to take an actual road trip, after all. As thanks to his navigator, Zhu, who, despite taking a name that didn¡¯t actually work that way, insisted on the first-name-last-name format. And also the beach just sounded fun. James was considering trying to grab whoever was available at the Lair and just making a day of it. Go dig a hole in the sand and put fire in it, roast some marshmallows, build badly thought out sand castles. He knew Alanna didn¡¯t like sand, and Anesh was busy, but it didn¡¯t have to be a romantic trip. He could just grab some friends and go. The whole quick thought process actually really highlighted to James the kind of fundamental shift in his life that had occurred, ever since ¡®dungeons are real¡¯ because a thing he had to contend with. He had an order of magnitude more actual freedom now, when he regularly got in life or death fights, than when he worked at a call center. Not that tech support wasn¡¯t important, or even that he had fewer things to worry about; if anything, James had far more responsibilities now than he ever had before. But all of those responsibilities were ones he¡¯d accepted, or asked for, himself. And if he ever needed help, it was only a quick question away. Then JP started talking again and James wondered if maybe he should invoke that ability to make someone else do the work. ¡°We¡¯ve got a rough lead on something. Maybe. I think we found where at least one of the long range shootings happened from.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James¡¯ voice was tight. ¡°Now, you know that I¡¯m not the lead on this investigation. So, what went wrong?¡± ¡°The New York City police department.¡± JP said. ¡°Who currently have one of our rouges in custody. Almost as soon as she was in the apartment, the cops showed up. And it looks like it was meant to end badly; I think she was spamming a blue power just to keep it non lethal.¡± JP¡¯s voice was weirdly steady as he explained to James over the speakerphone, James trying to rapidly wash his hands and put breakfast on hold as he processed the information. He handed off his spatula to Sarah as he picked the phone up and kept listening. ¡°We don¡¯t know what kind of trap it was, but it was a trap. And it ended with our rogue in a precinct holding cell.¡± ¡°Okay. Get her out.¡± James said flatly. ¡°Two problems with that.¡± JP said. ¡°One, it would require us to use a lot of our tricks not just in public, but offensively against a police precinct.¡± ¡°We already tacitly do that by doing their jobs in front of them, and I don¡¯t care. I doubt a lot of people in the Order would, but we can still seek consensus on it.¡± James¡¯ felt anger creeping into his tone. ¡°So teleport in and take her out of there.¡± ¡°Okay. Problem two.¡± JP paused. A hesitation James didn¡¯t usually hear from his brashly reckless friend. ¡°We tried that.¡± He admitted. ¡°Almost right away.¡± James raised eyebrows that no one but Sarah or Auberdeen would see, tilting his head as he waited. ¡°And¡­?¡± ¡°And it didn¡¯t work. Can¡¯t teleport in.¡± It took a minute for James to process that information. But when he started to, his brain began making a lot of connections. Connections to the last time people couldn¡¯t teleport in or out of a place. To when a small sized city with a few thousand people in it had been wiped off the maps. It had, during the deadly events that had occurred there, been sealed off. No teleportation in or out. No actual leaving at all, really. Because the Last Line Of Defense had sealed it. Trapped the town in a way that kept everything inside, that James still didn¡¯t really know the details of. Similarly, something like that had happened on a much smaller scale when he¡¯d been stuck in an ambush against a member of the defunct Guild of Alchemists. A group of kids with magic that punched way above their weight class trapping roughly a city block in a dome that stopped exit as well. His brain pinged an older memory. And he thought back to the first time he¡¯d met something like the Last Line Of Defense. A creature that, if it ever was human, had given that up a long time ago to become something else. A weaponized individual, that he¡¯d been calling the Old Gun. And he thought of how, in the dungeon under a high school, she¡¯d told them something when they first faced off. That she¡¯d let them teleport out. ¡°Uh oh!¡± James said enthusiastically into the phone. The way he said it got a sharp snap of a look from Sarah, who was familiar enough with him to know that when he did that, he was actually trying to convince himself not to panic. ¡°Okay. This is¡­ bad.¡± James paced behind their couch as he talked. ¡°But not impossible. Telepad effects in the immediate area?¡± ¡°Still works. Haven¡¯t literally tried it on the steps of the building, but around there is fine.¡± JP told him with businesslike rapidity. James nodded to himself. ¡°Okay. Then we just need to get her - it¡¯s Lin, right? I assume it¡¯s Lin. I feel like this is what you¡¯d send Lin out for - get her out of there, and then make a more complete evac once out of the building.¡± ¡°The building that is a police precinct.¡± JP reminded him. ¡°Yeah, which is why you¡¯re calling me.¡± James said with a kind of grim determination. ¡°Because this is gonna be a problem. Has she actually been charged with anything?¡± His brain started moving pieces around the board. ¡°What¡¯s the size of the precinct? Where is it? I don¡¯t know shit about New York, this might be a challenge.¡± He felt like he was starting to ramble to himself. ¡°Would an infomorph be able to just walk us out? No, probably shouldn¡¯t rely on that. They¡¯ve got the building fucking warded, we can¡¯t trust half our magic, huh?¡± JP gave him some answers, and James processed the information intently. Letting the anxiety of an unexpected situation morph and change into a problem that he had the tools to solve. Because, when you got down to it, he did. A city¡¯s police force had taken one of his people prisoner, when they¡¯d meant to just kill her. He¡¯d start with asking nicely for her release, but at the end of the day¡­ James hadn¡¯t actually been afraid of police retaliation for a while. Maybe he should have been. The Order was, after all, breaking a lot of laws. And as he¡¯d seen earlier this year in Utah, members of the force were unique susceptible to a form of mind control from something out there. But really, he wasn¡¯t afraid of them. Maybe he should be. It was probably serious hubris to think that he was bulletproof all the time. But in a situation like this, where he was on the ambusher side of a potential preemptive strike? This was a puzzle to solve, not a threat to fear. Lin - or Yin? James couldn¡¯t remember and he was actually pretty sure the girl switched her name to confuse people - wouldn¡¯t languish in a cell for long. ¡°Alright.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m on my way into the Lair. I¡¯ll meet you there.¡± ¡°Already here, upstairs.¡± JP said. ¡°Redding¡¯s coming in too, if you actually wanna start with asking nicely.¡± ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go that route before the unadulterated violence.¡± James clicked his tongue. ¡°See you soon.¡± He thumbed the call away and slipped his phone into his pocket, before looking over at Sarah. ¡°So.¡± He started. She looked at him with obvious concern. ¡°Are you gonna do something stupid?¡± She asked, still standing in their shared kitchen over a pan of scrambled eggs. It wasn¡¯t like James had a good answer to that. Aside from the obvious. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Want help?¡± Sarah asked. It was such a simple thing, and it came from her so easily. But it meant a lot to James. An overwhelming amount, really. She knew, these days, that when he said something like that, what he meant was that it was gonna be risky and it was gonna be dangerous. And she asked anyway, without hesitation or fear. When James thought about the future he wanted to build, and the people he wanted to live in it, he didn¡¯t think of himself. He got angry, he wasn¡¯t as smart as he could be, and he was also profoundly lazy when allowed to be. And he was improving himself; not just getting more skill orbs or weird stat points, but actually improving. Learning more about the world and the connections between people, digging down to the root of what was important, trying to be kinder, trying to be happier. Becoming more mature, a better person. But when he thought of his ideal city, what he thought of wasn¡¯t a city populated by people like him. It was a world filled with people like Sarah. Who were also still growing, but who were just a little bit ahead of him. Maybe he¡¯d get there someday. For now, though, he just answered with ¡°Not yet. I dunno what we¡¯re gonna need, and if we need anything it might be¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°You might need to start a fight.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Yeah. I know. And we¡¯ve been preparing for that, you know? You¡¯re not the only person in the Order, James.¡± She smirked at him a little. ¡°We need a better system for this kind of mobilization, but we can do it. So go meet up with JP, and sort it out, and I¡¯ll pretend that you and I swapped bodies when Anesh and Alanna wake up and I serve them breakfast.¡± ¡°Oh, they¡¯re already awake.¡± James said with an honest, warm smile. ¡°They¡¯re just doing stuff that excludes me.¡± ¡®¡­is this another sex thing?¡± His best friend asked, narrowing her eyes at him. ¡°You aren¡¯t allowed to tell me if this is a sex thing.¡± Sarah blinked, and then started lightly rambling to herself. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t wanna be sex-positive, though. And you are my friend? So I guess if you wanna talk about your sex life we can do that. And, and, I¡¯ve got that Sewer lesson for sex-ed anyway, which is still weird, but I also haven¡¯t gotten sick since I got it, and I¡¯ve changed my mind.¡± She nodded deliberately at him. ¡°Alright James.¡± Sarah said dramatically. ¡°Tell me about your sex life.¡± ¡°No.¡± James shook his head, trying not to laugh. ¡°I mean, yeah, I¡¯m also trying to be more sex-positive. But not, as in, no, they¡¯re just talking about soccer. Though they were doing it in the shower, so it might be a sex thing? I don¡¯t actually know. You could go ask!¡± He cheerfully called as he tore a page off his semi-emergency telepad. ¡°See ya!¡± ¡°James-!¡± Sarah glared after him, but couldn¡¯t stop smiling as she did so. Turning to Auberdeen, the dog daintily eating the remainder of her sausage from her vantage point on the couch. ¡°Can you got get them?¡± She asked. Auberdeen just woofed at her. Which, really, could mean anything. At least until Sarah got a language skill to speak Canine-English. _____ ¡°Redding.¡± James greeted their lawyer like he hadn¡¯t just appeared out of thin air in the high rise office space the Order technically had the lease on. He didn¡¯t even miss a step, just falling into step as he started walking away from the stairwell he¡¯d just manifested next to, toward the conference table they tended to use for meetings. ¡°Lyle.¡± The lawyer¡¯s voice was smooth and easy, showing no sign of the recent heart attack he¡¯d experienced when someone had teleported into the space a few feet to his left. ¡°You know, some of us have to actually drive in to the office.¡± ¡°You literally do not.¡± James told him. ¡°Also, also, you adopted one of the new paper dragons, didn¡¯t you? You can fly into the office!¡± Redding cocked a thick eyebrow at James, doing a much better job of the motion than James could ever manage. ¡°Hermes is-¡° ¡°People need to stop naming things after gods, we¡¯re gonna run out of names.¡± ¡°-the size of a small pony. I¡¯m a two hundred pound man, post-briefcase. And also it¡¯s September, not good flying weather.¡± Redding shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s thirty degrees outside in Oregon. I don¡¯t even wanna know what it is here.¡± ¡°Fine, he¡¯d catch fire then.¡± Jake didn¡¯t stop walking as they talked, determined to not let James bog him down in this conversation. ¡°What are we doing here today? I was called rather abruptly.¡± He didn¡¯t exactly nod to James, but somehow physically alluded to the teleporting in, ¡°And apparently before you were.¡± ¡°One of our rogues got arrested.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯re going to try diplomacy first.¡± Their organization¡¯s lawyer stopped, and cleared his throat, getting James to pause just within reach of the living potted plant they kept in this office. ¡°You do realize you have me on retainer as a property law consultant, yes?¡± ¡°Yeah, well, want to put those skill orbs to use?¡± James asked, swatting away a flourishing green plastic fern that was poking at his face. ¡°Because I know you¡¯ve gotten at least a half dozen yellows that an iLipede identified as ¡®legal¡¯. And I¡¯m not saying we¡¯re gonna charge you for them or anything, I am legitimately asking; will you help us here?¡± Jake stared at him, before turning to glance out the pane glass windows at the city outside and giving a small snort. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll help.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± The two of them rounded the corner and through the door to where they held meetings up here, with James constantly forgetting that there was actually a door there. They left it open all the time, and so it mostly just felt like there were weird glass walls sticking out from around the open area that no one had found a better purpose for than a big table and a bunch of chairs. JP was already there, coat draped over the back of a chair, talking to someone on his phone, and he looked up as the two of them entered. Said something rapid, and hung up, before focusing on the new arrivals. ¡°Good, you¡¯re here. Here.¡± He slid what looked like a pair of pistol cases across the table. ¡°Shorter on time than I thought.¡± ¡°Whaaaat is this?¡± James asked as he spun one of the cases around and popped it open, looking at the contents with suspicious eyes. Inside, thankfully, wasn¡¯t a gun, but instead a couple rows of orbs, two slim silver flasks, a cell phone, and a USB stick. ¡°JP, you can¡¯t get us drunk before an op. I don¡¯t even drink anymore.¡± ¡°I drink.¡± Redding said, opening a flask and sniffing it before grimacing. ¡°But not that.¡± He turned the flask over when he realized it was labeled, a thin strip of a sticker titling it ¡®reading juice¡¯. He didn¡¯t stop grimacing. JP scowled at them. ¡°They¡¯re rogue armory kits. I keep a few on hand in case I need to promote someone. Now stop fucking around and take your orbs.¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± Jake paused, looking down at the purple orbs in the case. ¡°Now¡­¡± ¡°You not okay with body modding?¡± James asked him, not unkindly. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not saying that.¡± The lawyer cleared his throat. ¡°But I¡¯ve seen some of what these can do to people, and¡­ oh, hell, I¡¯m just nervous about the things.¡± He admitted. James nodded. ¡°I get that. The ones here are all tested though, and there¡¯s a list in the¡­ JP there should be a list in these cases. Do you not¡­ okay, JP¡¯s just gonna glare at us. Look, it¡¯s not required. But also, just as an FYI, the ratroaches aren¡¯t humans modified by orbs, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re thinking of.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°I know that, I listen to the podcast report.¡± Jake snorted at him. ¡°I just don¡¯t wanna end up with knife hands or some shit.¡± ¡°Tell you what, I¡¯ll vet them for you.¡± James said, and swept his hand through his own case. [+1 Skill Rank : Language - German - 18th Century] [+1 Skill Rank : Language - Japanese - Modern] [+.4 Skill Ranks : Language - English - Eastern Chinese] [+1 Skill Rank : Etiquette - Academic - European] [+1 Skill Rank : Etiquette - Australian] [+.8 Skill Ranks : Firearms - Pistol - Beretta 9mm] [+1 Skill Rank : Communication - Negotiation - Contract] [+2 Skill Rank : Perception - Spatial Awareness - Damages] [+.3 Skill Ranks : Communication - Conversation] [+1.3 Skill Ranks : Athletics - Running] [Shell Upgraded : Dermal Electrical Discharge - 8,200 Volts] [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Curiosity] [Shell Upgraded : Vocal Precision - +/- .2 octaves] [+2 Skill Ranks : Fabrication - Cookware - Clay] [Shell Upgraded : Hearing Range - +1.3 Meters] [Shell Upgraded : White Blood Cells - Antibody Development - +8 hours/day] [Problem Solved : Personal data secured] [+1 Skill Rank : Ducks] ¡°I have so many questions about what the fuck you guys have been doing that you need a skill orb for fucking ducks.¡± James said, shaking his head at JP. ¡°It¡¯s the blue. If you¡¯ve got your data in any marketing systems or FBI databases or anything, it scrubs it. Otherwise, it orders you a pastry from the closest bakery.¡± ¡°Why.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know, shut up.¡± JP rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°Just tell him what the purples do and let¡¯s move, please?¡± James nodded, dropping the humor as it became apparent that JP was actually being serious and not just screwing with him. ¡°Right, sorry.¡± He said. ¡°Uh, Jake, voice control, hearing range, faster antibody production, and the ability to electrocute people with your hands.¡± ¡°Range like hearing dogwhistles?¡± Jake asked. ¡°No, what am I saying. What was the last one again?¡± ¡°Range like literal physical range. And a mild shock you can conduct through your skin.¡± James flexed his hands, feeling something moving just under his skin. Everywhere, under his skin. It wasn¡¯t bad, really. It was part of him, and it fit like it had always been there. And he was pretty sure he could push it out into whatever he was touching, if he needed to. ¡°It¡¯s not bad. Kinda weird though.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll skip that one.¡± Jake said, and James pointed to which labeled orb it was. Rapidly, the lawyer took the rest of them, then looked up at JP. ¡°What¡¯s with the phone?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a phone.¡± JP said. ¡°Leave your own here for security. The USB is a mem file for evasion tactics, vetted for emotional residue. Not important, no time.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°You ready?¡± He asked. ¡°Why are we in such a hurry all of a sudden?¡± James asked. ¡°You need to keep us informed of this shit, man.¡± JP wasn¡¯t the kind of guy to normally be anxious, and his obvious nerves were setting off James¡¯ own, much deeper anxiety. ¡°What changed, between you calling me, and me dropping breakfast to get here?¡± JP¡¯s face twisted into something like anger, before he realized that he actually hadn¡¯t told James what the full situation was. He took a stabilizing breath, trying to hide his own emotional cracks as best he could, which was actually pretty well. JP had a lot of practice at it. ¡°Yin¡¯s still in the same situation. But since half an hour ago, we¡¯ve had two different groups get almost caught out. One outside a hotel room that they found that was booked by nobody for the next month, and one leaving a rent-a-car company after asking some honestly pretty basic questions.¡± ¡°Police both times?¡± Redding asked, with a voice like he¡¯d waited his whole life to be a real detective and was finally getting the chance. JP shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s the thing. No. But a lot of guys each time, and both groups teleported out without getting shot. But it¡¯s starting to feel like actually looking into this at all is a fucking trap.¡± James sucked in a breath through his teeth. ¡°Oh.¡± He said. ¡°What?¡± Jake asked, the lawyer too confused to be alarmed. ¡°You see a pattern already?¡± ¡°No. Yes.¡± James spread his hands. ¡°It¡¯s a trap for us.¡± He said. ¡°Well yeah.¡± JP stared at him. ¡°That¡¯s the fucking problem. We need to-¡° ¡°No,¡± James cut him off ¡°you don¡¯t get it. It¡¯s not for us us. It¡¯s for people like us. You didn¡¯t send people in and tell them to go for the most obscure lines of inquiry first, right?¡± JP shook his head, but before he could open his mouth to answer, James pressed on. ¡°Exactly. We¡¯re new to this, we start at the basics. Ask questions, look for leads, find where the shots came from, right? The obvious starting points. The obvious starting points for an investigation that shouldn¡¯t be happening, because no one can remember that the attacks even happened.¡± ¡°Aw fuck.¡± JP muttered, pulling his phone out. ¡°It¡¯s a trap for us.¡± The words stalled his sudden rush to get moving. JP was a lot of things, and he¡¯d obviously changed a lot since James had last actually hung out with the guy, because ¡®devoted to his people¡¯ wasn¡¯t something James had on his bingo card for his friend. But there it was, and obviously JP was in a hurry to get Lin out of danger. But the thought that this wasn¡¯t just a single coincidence, but an active trap, meant that rushing into anything was a terrible idea. Rushing was how people got hurt, in the dungeons. And James saw no reason to not stretch that rule out to the mundane world as well. The mundane world¡­ where there was some way to get at least two different groups¡­ one of them the New York City Police Department¡­ to violently ambush people who got too close to the truth of a specific event. So not that mundane, really. But at least they still hadn¡¯t actually met a real vampire yet, so things were still within the vague realm of normal. All that aside, there was a difference between mounting a rescue - legal or otherwise - and walking into a trap. Not that James was against walking into traps; he was a big fan of the trope of just strolling into the villain''s secret lair, and had in fact gotten to do that at least once before. But JP was a bit more reserved in his theatrical heroics, and for all that Redding had been invaluable to the Order as an interface between their nonsense and the legal technicalities of the mundane world, he wasn¡¯t a combatant. Or particularly dramatic. ¡°So, what do we do?¡± James asked. ¡°I don¡¯t have a clear plan here.¡± He admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve got a starting point.¡± Redding said, slipping into the confident voice he used when he was doing actual lawyer things and not just desperately trying to keep up with the flow of madness around here. JP and James looked at him expectantly, like he¡¯d thrown them a lifeline. ¡°They can¡¯t hold anyone they haven¡¯t charged for more than forty eight hours. So let¡¯s just go ask what she¡¯s been charged with.¡± ¡°That still requires walking into a trap.¡± JP pointed out. ¡°No.¡± Jake corrected firmly. ¡°Because the trap was obviously supposed to kill her. And because people are forgetting things around this series of events, right? So. What are the odds that, devoid of any kind of defenses, the precinct she¡¯s in already forgot Lin is¡­ I¡¯m sorry, JP, is it Lin or Yin?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± JP answered honestly. ¡°I¡¯m actually not entirely convinced that we¡¯re not talking about different people. Which I mostly just find kind of impressive on her part. Love a woman who can bluff being multiple other women.¡± ¡°Wow. Okay. That¡¯s¡­¡± James refrained from following that line of thought. ¡°So. Jake. Save us from this. You think they¡¯ll just let her out?¡± ¡°I think they might not know why anyone got in a fight to begin with, or if it actually happened. And I really, really think, that with infomorphs backing us up, even if we do make them suspicious, we can just pave the evidence on the way out.¡± James nodded. ¡°JP, get El up here. Jake¡­ while El is on the way, confirm this for me. You are saying that you think it¡¯s okay to offensively wipe the memories of police officers? I¡¯m not¡­ ruling this plan out, I¡¯m just checking.¡± ¡°Yeah, fuck ¡®em.¡± The least lawyerly thing Jake had ever said slipped out of his mouth with a casual shrug. ¡°I¡¯m a property law specialist, man. I¡¯m not academically prepared for this question. But I¡¯m also a black guy in the US, so¡­ draw your own conclusions.¡± ¡°Alright, fuck the police.¡± James said, turning to JP. ¡°Where¡¯s El? Let¡¯s get th-¡° There was a snap of air and El appeared in a kneeling position on the conference table, letting out a startled ¡®awk!¡¯ noise as she rolled off the edge, blonde hair trailing behind her as she slammed into the floor and popped back up like nothing had happened. ¡°Alright, El¡¯s here. El, we¡¯re gonna go break someone out of prison, you in? JP, she¡¯s in. Telepad. Let¡¯s go.¡± James nodded to her. ¡°Wait for me to answer you fucker.¡± El gasped out as she rubbed her shoulder. ¡°Also yeah, we¡¯re in, fuck the police.¡± From inside the wreath of her hair, a tiny voice echoed her. ¡°Do not be silenced by violent authority!¡± El¡¯s bonded infomorph and pseudo-daughter squeaked out. For someone named Speaker, she was still unbelievably shy, and even though a strong enough infomorph to stay manifested most of the time, kept hidden within El¡¯s hair. The occasional flash of deep sea blue or ethereal green mostly just making El look like she had the world¡¯s weirdest dye job. ¡°Alright.¡± James grinned at her. ¡°Any objections? To this plan, before we go?¡± ¡°Should I have a gun or something?¡± El asked. ¡°No.¡± The other three said instantly. ¡°Okay, no further objections from El. Grab on.¡± JP continued, extending a hand to James, who took it and chained it with the others, before JP unceremoniously yanked the telepad he¡¯d already written down off the pad and sent them hurtling to somewhere else. _____ In the end, the process was almost comically simple, compared to the level of panic James had as they walked up the steps to the precinct. Yes, he admitted to himself, he wasn¡¯t actually that concerned about police retaliation. But that didn¡¯t mean that his gut didn¡¯t turn to knots when he walked up to their front door and dared them to do something. They maybe couldn¡¯t find his home office, but they still had guns, grenade launchers, APCs, and outdated brutalist attitudes toward use of violence. Though, also being fair, these specific police probably didn¡¯t know who he was personally. But it hadn¡¯t gone that way. Instead, Jake and JP had introduced themselves as lawyers here to see a client, the sergeant at the front desk had been mildly unpleasant, but had ultimately directed them to the part of the building they needed to be in, and James and El had followed with no one fully able to focus on them long enough to kick them out. Though James filed the fact that JP just introduced himself as a lawyer away under ¡®ask about that later¡¯. They¡¯d talked to someone else, followed an actual guide to another part of the building, and just like that, had a room to talk to Lin in. She did not look good. A bruise roughly the shape and size of Alaska covered half her face, her shirt was missing a sleeve, and that arm had a mess of bandages on it. Some of her hair was matted with what James suspected was blood, but he didn¡¯t ask, as he and El needed to keep quiet to let their infomorphs keep doing their job. ¡°What can I say?¡± She asked. ¡°The basics, nothing classified.¡± JP told her, glancing around the meeting room they¡¯d been put in. There were windows with old blinds, most of which were shut. It seemed like almost no security for a prisoner, but then, it made sense. There was no record of Lin being violent or an escape risk. ¡°But keep it quick.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t even get through the door before they showed up.¡± She said rapidly. ¡°Called you halfway through the fight, so you know the end. Used the blue that makes plans to scramble them. I don¡¯t think they had a plan, you know? They were really confused afterward. Didn¡¯t know why they were arresting me, one of them said he didn¡¯t know why they¡¯d bothered coming out this far for a noise complaint.¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t have records on hand for me.¡± Redding said. ¡°I¡¯m new to this, but they should have. What were you charged with?¡± ¡°Drunk in public, or something.¡± Lin told him, wincing as she turned too fast. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± Redding said, slipping out of the room. JP glanced back at El, and nodded after the lawyer, and she gave a vicious grin and followed him, the ghostly tail of fins and eyes trailing down her neck trailing after her. JP turned back to Lin. ¡°Alright. Bad news first.¡± He set a telepad on the table, and Lin¡¯s eyes flickered with brief relief before he tapped it and softly said, ¡°Doesn¡¯t work here.¡± Her face fell in an instant, though she tried to cover it. ¡°Good news, Redding knows more about criminal law than he lets on, and worst case scenario, we just walk out of here with you.¡± ¡°¡­Thanks.¡± The young woman said. ¡°I¡­ kinda worried.¡± ¡°We know who we are.¡± JP said, and the two of them shared a snort of laughter, making James feel like the outsider looking at an inside joke playing out. ¡°Okay. So, assessment?¡± ¡°Outside control.¡± Lin said almost instantly, glancing over JP¡¯s shoulder to James, frowning as her eyes tried to focus on him. He waved, a flutter of incorporeal orange feathers trailing off his hand as he did so, Zhu keeping his visit from being interrupted. Not quite the same as being invisible, but pretty close. ¡°I remember the Utah thing. The way the cops moved there? They moved like that. Like they were fucking zombies or something.¡± JP sighed, and James suppressed a spike of fear as he glanced toward the door. ¡°Shit.¡± JP said simply. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s¡­ bad. That means a lot of things.¡± He broke off as the door opened, and Jake walked back in, followed by a uniformed officer with a mustache that made him look like he was preparing to tie a kidnapped woman to some train tracks somewhere. ¡°Yeah?¡± JP asked simply. ¡°You¡¯re free to go.¡± The officer said, tossing a document onto the table. ¡°Don¡¯t leave town, in case someone needs to talk to you, and don¡¯t get in trouble again for a while.¡± He probably didn¡¯t mean it in an unkind way, but it took a lot of willpower for James to not laugh out loud. Or punch him. The officer¡¯s eyes slid over James as he turned to leave, pausing only briefly as he stared at the corner of the room. James gave a hostile smile, and waved, but the officer just shrugged and walked out. Redding casually pulled a chair out and sat down. ¡°You were arrested for drunk and disorderly, but no one ever administered a BAC test. Also there¡¯s no record from your arresting officer, no record of you being booked, and, wouldn¡¯t you know it, it doesn¡¯t seem like there¡¯s even a trail of in-car GPS or body cam footage for anything at that location for the last day. Which is shockingly unsubtle, and we should talk to El when we get back about that, but for now¡­ well, they could hold you for a few days to come up with a charge. But I let them know that we¡¯d be happy to forget about how much their precinct dropped the ball, if that didn¡¯t happen. Ready to go?¡± ¡°Can I get my stuff back?¡± Lin asked. ¡°There¡¯s no record of any of your possessions being logged as evidence.¡± Redding said. Lin¡¯s face fell again, but she took a small breath and nodded anyway, letting JP and Jake flank her as they left the building. James tagged along behind, starting to enjoy the experience of being an almost unseen ghost in this building. He¡¯d never actually been in an operational police station before. There were more desks than he¡¯d expected, and more people just moving around from place to place. The halls were too small, the walls absolutely covered in papers and notices that he didn¡¯t know how anyone had the time to read. The walk was pretty long, and they had to wait for an elevator for several minutes, but eventually, the four of them stepped out into a back parking lot and headed for the street. ¡°That was easy.¡± James commented, and Lin let out a yell that turned from surprised to violent as she spun and aimed an open handed strike at his neck. He jerked back, still getting hit on the cheek, yelling in surprise himself. ¡°Ow! Why?!¡± ¡°Where did you come from!?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been here the whole time!¡± James protested. ¡°I waved at you!¡± ¡°I know! I didn¡¯t know!¡± Lin yelled back. ¡°Wait, did you mind control the police? Is that why this worked so well?¡± ¡°No, but El might have.¡± JP admitted. Redding cleared his throat, looking around the New York sidewalk. There was a steady flow of people, but most of them weren¡¯t even pretending to pay attention to the group. ¡°Actually, it was mostly easy because they¡¯re not interested in more attention right now.¡± He said. ¡°Being forced to rehire all their anti-vax officers is getting them bad press, and ¡®police beat and arrest young Asian-American woman, do not know why they did it¡¯ is not a good headline.¡± He looked around again, like he was searching for something. ¡°Does anyone know where El actually is?¡± ¡°She was with you.¡± James told him. ¡°No, we split off. I was serious when I said they didn¡¯t record a lot of things.¡± Jake gave James a grim look. ¡°They literally just threw her in a cell and walked off, and no one remembered it.¡± ¡°Okay, worrying.¡± James said, pulling out his phone to text El. But before he could, she popped up at his elbow. ¡°What¡¯cha¡¯ll waiting for?¡± She asked, handing a small box to Yin, who took it with a confused look that quickly turned excited as she cracked it open and saw her personal effects inside. El pointedly did not hand anyone else the other two boxes she had under her arm. ¡°Where were you?¡± James asked her. ¡°Evidence lockup.¡± El said with a sharkish grin. ¡°Good news. We can¡¯t teleport through the building, but we sure can just walk out with whatever!¡± James screwed his eyes closed, trying to not get angry about how stupid that risk was right ow. ¡°Let¡¯s go find somewhere we can teleport out of here without attracting too much more attention than literally robbing the police.¡± He said. ¡°And I can be very disappointed in El once we¡¯re back in the Lair.¡± It didn¡¯t take long. And James reappeared back at their base with two conflicting feelings in his chest. One, that it was comforting to be somewhere he knew had a measure of security, and his own people around. And two¡­ That it really had been easy. Alarmingly easy, really. Maybe whoever had put this all together just hadn¡¯t been expecting press-shy cops and bad record keeping to be their undoing. Maybe abusing navigator and assignment powers to bend information and memory and perception around themselves was just too much of an advanced edge against anyone who didn¡¯t have some kind of defense against that. Or maybe there was something else going on. Lin agreed, almost the instant he shared that thought, and they dragged Planner¡¯s attention away from whatever they were doing to pick Lin over for any sign of an alien informorph, while JP and Reed went over her belongings for anything that looked like it might have been a planted bug. But there was nothing there. And James didn¡¯t want good caution to tip over into paranoia. So he chalked this up as something that wasn¡¯t exactly a win, but was a smooth recovery from a potential disaster. JP and Nate pulled back a lot of their investigating rogues, settling for trying to poke at the edges of the attacks and be nearby should ¡®anything happen¡¯, instead of poking their collective noses straight into the problem. But either way, they were still no closer to actually knowing what was going on. It was entirely possible that the killers had already done their work, Nate told him. That the political angle was all a smokescreen to cover a relatively simple hit. That there would be no followup attack.. But it was also possible things were going to get worse. And the Order was on the back foot again, out of position and unable to respond to the very thing they were desperately trying to keep people safe from. James hated that feeling. Hated feeling like the world was too big and he was too small and he and his people couldn¡¯t be everywhere and help everyone. And the worst part was, they were so close to being able to do so much more. Like they¡¯d been on the edge of being more active and more useful for the last few months, but not quite tipping over. ¡°I think we need more people.¡± James had told a few people. Nate, Harvey, Karen, the people who were more or less in charge of parts of the Order. ¡°I dunno if now is a good time, but I think we should bring in some more hands for this. For everything.¡± And every one of them had, almost instantly, handed him options. He had a whole batch of interviews or interview-adjacent meetings lined up for the next few days. But today, it was still not even noon, he still hadn¡¯t had breakfast, and he had a promise he actually intended to keep, providing a police department on the other side of the country didn¡¯t notice his antics and start causing problems. Which was why James, in the middle of a Pacific Northwest September, stepped off the elevator into the main floor of the Lair wearing sunglasses and carrying a beach ball. Chapter 209 ¡°I¡¯m not suicidal, I just can¡¯t get out of bed.¡± -Metric, Satellite Mind- _____ ¡°So, why are we doing this now?¡± Alanna asked her adorably dumbass boyfriend. Currently, said boyfriend was driving one of the cars the Order had acquired through their ongoing process of testing the health potion gas from Route Horizon. It turned out, it was actually pretty easy to get a bargain on buying en masse from a scrapyard. And when you had a form of gasoline that healed damage that you needed to test, a bunch of derelict vehicles in various states of fucked up were a great thing to have. Alanna had finally gotten to drive the asphalt mech, to move them back to their parking lot. Their parking lot was bigger on the¡­ inside? Bigger than it should be. It was cool. But also, it was full of cars that were crumbling. What Alanna had personally learned is that she didn¡¯t like piloting the mech. Magic should be cool, but it was honestly about as engaging as driving a forklift, except after too many tricky maneuvers, you got a nosebleed. But what they¡¯d learned collectively was that the health gas needed an engine that could at least combust a little bit, and a real fuel tank. Though ¡®real¡¯ was flexible. A makeshift canister and tube still worked. Slowly. But after that, it could fix almost anything. Even fully missing parts; though the parts that regrew were¡­ odd. A little more organic than they should be. But they worked, and it was a good supply of vehicles, while also being effective recycling, even if there were some weird side effects. Also the car she was in now, that James was driving, had one of those weird side effects. An air freshener that smelled like¡­ like¡­ something. Something earthy and spicy. It wasn¡¯t bad, but it was odd. Not magical or anything, but it kept growing back if removed, until they emptied the tank of the magic gas. James had said something while Alanna had gotten distracted by the air freshner again. She glanced at him and made a small grunt of incomprehension, and he grinned as he repeated himself. ¡°I mean, I had a thing about something else, but I think that right there sells me on it. We need a break.¡± He told her. ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of stuff.¡± Alanna said flatly. ¡°We are literally always going to be in the middle of stuff.¡± James said in the same tone. He glanced through the mirror into the back seat, where three people were smushed together, the pile of their stuff in the back of the hatchback. ¡°Have any of you been not in the middle of stuff in the last month?¡± He asked. Momo folded her arms and tried to shrink farther into the corner between the seat and the door, the silver studs on her coat rattling. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you took me away from training my apprentices for this.¡± Next to her, Texture-Of-Barkdust made a sibilant hiss. ¡°I was tricked into this vehicle.¡± She said. ¡°I had emails to answer.¡± There was a pause before Arrush realized the others were waiting for him to say something. ¡°I was reading.¡± He said, looking forlornly at the book in his paws. Arrush, it turned out, got carsick. Very fast. And somewhere on the side of highway 217, a patch of concrete had a corroded gouge running down it. ¡°See?¡± James said to Alanna. ¡°Everyone is all work, all the time. We cannot keep doing that. It¡¯s gonna burn us out. You all taught me that, and I¡¯m trying to be better about actually finding time to relax. We have all the money now. We can move at our own speed, and we can spend less time working. Not that our work isn¡¯t rewarding and awesome, but more that we need to¡­ just¡­ I dunno, just ease off of everything.¡± He sighed. ¡°Also, I wanna go to the beach while late September inexplicably feels like the middle of summer. And none of you were tricked into the car, hush.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not inexplicable, it¡¯s climate change.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust told him. ¡°I have assayed several studies. This is easily explained. Did you know that there is only one climate?¡± She sounded legitimately curious, as camracondas often did when they learned new facts about Earth. ¡°Technically. It is all connected. Collective emissions of certain substances create a rise in average temperatures, which has led to this. I assume. Is September normally cold?¡± ¡°In Oregon? Uh, yes.¡± James nodded to himself. ¡°Especially at the coast. It should be¡­ I dunno, overcast and ten degrees out. Not this.¡± He waved at the beautiful golden sun coating the road ahead of them, dusty rays of light beaming between the trees on the side of the quiet highway. ¡°Look,¡± Alanna brought his attention back to her, ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ I get that downtime is important. And apparently a lot of other people do too, since everyone following us makes up ninety percent of the cars within five miles of here. Though Nate doesn¡¯t count since I think he¡¯s using this as an excuse to barbeque stuff, and I legit don¡¯t understand how he ever ended up working as an¡­ okay, getting sidetracked. Sorry, uh¡­ aren¡¯t there assassinations going on right now?! Isn¡¯t that something we should be not taking a fucking break from?¡± ¡°We¡¯re backing off.¡± James said quietly, but the whole car stilled to listen to him. ¡°For a few days, at least. Response has been quieter lately, I¡¯ve got interviews for the next couple days, everything¡¯s gonna get busy and chaotic again¡­¡± He trailed off, he wanted to close his eyes like he could make the stress go away by not looking at it, but sadly, he had to stare at the highway and let the AC dry out his eyeballs. ¡°And we can¡¯t deal with some outside threat if we¡¯re the ones walking into traps. So we¡¯re backing off. And we¡¯ll come at it again in a different way when we¡¯re back on the sneaky-spy offensive.¡± From the backseat, Momo spoke up. ¡°Yeah, but like, people are dying?¡± ¡°People are dying everywhere.¡± James said with a kind of sudden depressed pessimism. ¡°There¡¯s at least one hot war going on, a half dozen oppressively murderous nations doing their thing, lack of education, lack of health care, lack of clean water, lack of food, police violence, poverty, and just good old fashioned regular murder happening, all over the place.¡± He realized his face had twisted into a kind of snarl, and he tried to take a breath and relax. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ we¡¯re a little over two hundred people, Momo. We¡¯re gonna recruit more, yeah. And we¡¯re gonna do great stuff. But we can¡¯t fight every battle. Not now. Not yet. We¡¯ll burn out, same as if we never stop working.¡± James met her eyes with a flicker in the rear view mirror. ¡°And don¡¯t get me wrong, I am not talking about just accepting the way things are. But¡­ we can¡¯t just throw people into the grinder and hope to attrition stuff down, you know? We aren¡¯t an army. Not really.¡± ¡°Not yet.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said with a note of pride that James suddenly found worrying. ¡°But we will be. Ah, but not if we exhaust ourselves wholly first. I see.¡± She nodded, straining against the seatbelt that held her in an awkward position. James opened his mouth, then noticed Alanna giving him a very observant pointed grin, and closed it again. He made a thoughtful hum, and said nothing, trying to figure out why exactly that sentence made him ever so slightly unsettled. Whatever thought was brewing in his head, mental alchemy turning it from whim to structured idea to verbalized statement, it was scattered and cut off as James took the car around a curve in the road, and below them, the ocean opened up. The cliffside road they were on offering a fantastic elevated view of the cold waves breaking themselves on the sand and rocks of this section of coast, one large dome of rock rising up out in the middle of the water, a steady wind throwing sprays of surf and sand up just as it tousled the dune grass and surrounding trees. Arrush and Texture-Of-Barkdust crammed against each other to look out the window. Momo snorted, but James caught her craning her neck to look too anyway. Alanna had no such worries; she had her own window in the passenger seat. ¡°I missed this place.¡± James said softly to himself. He hadn¡¯t been back to this part of the state in a while, and it was under dramatically different conditions that he was here once again. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go find a spot to park. Then we can stretch our legs. Or¡­ tails. Or¡­ do camracondas stretch? No, don¡¯t answer that, I will get a full answer later, and try to level up in biology.¡± He took advantage of a straight bit of road to blink slowly and try to let his eyes recover before heading into the small seaside town, and finding a stretch of beach that was mostly empty for everyone to spend the afternoon at. He parked the car on a gravel lot for visitors to the beach town, killing the machine-healing engine and sighing to himself as the kids in the back scrambled to get out. James glanced at Alanna, wanting to share a quiet moment with one of his partners, but¡­ well, she¡¯d also just scrambled out the door, the smell of salt and sand overpowering whatever bizarre substance their air freshener was exuding. James laughed softly to himself, before groaning and stretching his own legs out to the rocky ground as he cracked the driver¡¯s side door, standing up and stretching until some of his bones popped as the cars that were following them also started to pull up. James had been mildly surprised by how many people had joined him for his impromptu day trip to the beach. Despite it being completely unplanned, and happening in a part of the morning where the Lair wasn¡¯t really that occupied, there were maybe a dozen people here. And James had heard that others were planning to teleport in later, when they had larger groups and their actual work for the day wrapped up. Turned out, not everyone wanted to drive for an hour and a half. Though more than one Order member had a navigator now, and some people just liked road trips. Three different iterations of Anesh wandered over from the van he¡¯d been in, the majority of his boyfriend taking a moment to collect a series of kisses from James before grabbing stuff out of the trunk. ¡°It¡¯s a really nice day for this.¡± One of him said. ¡°Like, weirdly nice. Is it gonna be a problem?¡± ¡°That there¡¯s sun?¡± ¡°That there¡¯s other people here.¡± Anesh snorted. James paused, and looked over to where Arrush and Keeka were lurking in the shadow cast by the van, then back down the footpath that cut through the dunes and sharp bursts of beach grass to where the sand had a handful of other people on it. Humans, specifically non-Order humans. ¡°Ah.¡± He muttered as Texture-Of-Barkdust slithered her way down ahead of Nate, who was lugging a portable grill, and El, who was trailing Speaker, the infomorph showing as flashes of neon green and blue light within her hair. ¡°Okay, well, I¡¯m sure this¡¯ll be fine.¡± James said. When all three Anesh turned to give him identical looks, he couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Oh my god, I don¡¯t get to hang out with multiples of you enough. Okay, you know what? I¡¯m not gonna be apprehensive. I¡¯ve decided. Fuck it! If anyone has a problem with our friends, I do not care. I¡¯ve got a hyperactive navigator living in my head, I¡¯m sure I can curse them to get lost on the way to harass us.¡± ¡°Yes I can do that!¡± Zhu chimed in James¡¯ ear, the sound echoing slightly into the real world. ¡°I can get on board with that.¡± Anesh smiled. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m gonna go find a spot, and then¡­ I dunno, what do we do at the beach?¡± ¡°Dig a hole.¡± James announced. ¡°What?¡± ¡°We dig a hole. I¡¯ve got shovels in the trunk.¡± Anesh narrowed all his eyes at James, each of the trio giving identical head tilts. ¡°¡­Why?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a thing.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I dunno, it¡¯s something I used to do when I came here. Also it¡¯s fun, because then you have a big hole to put a fire in and hang out in.¡± ¡°You are so weird, and I love you.¡± Anesh shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll get your shovels and the drink cooler, you go make sure Keeka doesn¡¯t eat that dog.¡± He brushed past James, patting his partner on the shoulder as he moved for the collective trunks of the cars. ¡°Yeah, I¡­ wait what?¡± James snapped his head over to where an older couple¡¯s husky had just bolted away from them, leaving the grey haired man stumbling forward as the dog happily bounded toward their group, barking loudly. Specifically, angling onto the gravel lot and past the van, to where the two ratroaches were trying to adjust to the new environment slightly away from everyone else. James swore. Perhaps a little loudly. And then he started moving. Arrush also started moving; his whole body tensing, instantly transforming him from a confused newcomer to the concept of the ocean to a weaponized entity as he clapped two hands on Keeka¡¯s side and started to shift the other ratroach out of the way and behind him. Stepping forward slightly to engage what probably registered to his brain as something loud, hostile, and incoming. And in the half second of brainpower he had available, along with a few orange lines of approach from his navigator, James saw a dozen scenarios where he wasn¡¯t going to get there in time and someone¡¯s pet was about to get disemboweled, which was, on a very technical level, not a great start to a day off. Then Keeka shrugged off Arrush¡¯s attempt to interpose himself between the sleeker ratroach and the dog, pushed his partner back with one of the ancillary arms he had that came off the back of his torso, and knelt down on the gravel, the thick chitin and thin fur of his footpaws scraping against the rock without concern. And as the dog bounded up to them, he just faced it without any sudden movements except to hold out one arm with an open paw. The husky, leash dragging behind it, stopped barking as it approached and practically skidded to a near stop, pacing back and forth in front of Keeka in rapid movements while the ratroach just sat perfectly still. Then the dog inched forward, sniffed once at his paw, jerked back, and then repeated the motion, before its tongue lolled out of its muzzle and it pushed forward, alternately sniffing or licking Keeka with a wagging tail, energetically exploring its new discovery. Tentatively, Keeka curved his arm around, the joint pivoting in a way that wouldn¡¯t be possible on a human, and ran his chitinous fingers through the fur on the dog¡¯s head, his pets getting less cautious and more enthusiastic as the husky leaned back into it, tongue panting happily. Behind him, Arrush untensed, and suddenly he was a person again. An awkward, cautious person, who shuffled back away from the dog that his boyfriend was now petting, trying to hide in the shadow of the van. James slowed his bolting sprint to a stroll, and noticed on the other side of the van, one of the newer Response knights who had come along did the same thing. He didn¡¯t know the new guy¡¯s name, and he should probably stop calling people who had worked with them for more than two months ¡®new¡¯, but James gave an appreciative smile and nod to the other dude as the two of them both made the same kind of awkward motion of shoving their hands in their pockets and pretending this was normal, both of them readjusting bits of their long hair that had gotten in their faces. Though James figured the other guy had it easier with dreadlocks than he did with a ponytail that didn¡¯t stay up properly. Then the older couple who had lost the dog came hurrying over, the man trailing behind the woman, her light jacket flapping around her as she moved with a slight limp. ¡°Oh my god, I am so sorry!¡± She burst out as she moved toward the husky. ¡°She¡¯s normally well¡­ behaved¡­ and¡­¡± the woman trailed off. Not out of breath, but because she had just realized who, or rather what, was petting her dog. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± She stared at Keeka with an expression that shifted from confused to outright horrified in the span of seconds. ¡°Hello.¡± The black furred ratroach said carefully, four different hands stilling on the husky that was still trying to stick her nose into his hoodie. ¡°Your dog is very nice.¡± ¡°Ch-Charles¡­!¡± The woman yelped out in a voice bordering on a scream. The man, Charles, and probably her husband if James guessed right, finally caught up, out of breath and panting. ¡°Dammit, woman, don¡¯t let the mutt harass¡­ uh¡­¡± He looked at the person petting his dog, then around at the other people nearby, then at his wife who was stumbling away and pointing a shocked finger and gibbering something incoherent. Then he glanced over at James, who just gave him an apologetic shrug, back at his wife again, back at Keeka. He seemed to jump a little as he noticed there was a second ratroach standing there as well. This was one of those moments that made James¡¯ anxiety kick into high gear. The bit where someone new encountered a ratroach or a camraconda or an infomorph for the first time. Not knowing if they were going to be the assholes or not. That plunge off the cliff, not knowing if at the bottom were rocks, or a trampoline. The metaphor broke down a bit, he admitted. The woman, James figured, was probably not going to be helpful. She was starting to yell the dog¡¯s name - Hypoxia, for some reason? - and starting to veer into the territory of yelling the word ¡®monster¡¯ repeatedly. Then her husband spoke up. ¡°Woman, would you calm down?!¡± Charles said. ¡°Goddammit Lily, they¡¯re shooting a movie or some shit. Monsters don¡¯t pet dogs. Christ.¡± He threw his arms up, as his wife¡¯s panic suddenly pivoted to ire at him, and the words mostly stayed the same as she started yelling at him. Keeka slowly looked over at James, who just shrugged, before giving the dog a small nudge and a point toward her owners. Hypoxia didn¡¯t want to leave her new discovery, but eventually did scamper across the parking lot, still trailing the leash, which was taken by the woman who was now thoroughly angry at her husband, who stalked off. The gentleman watched her go for a second before he wiped scraped palms on his legs and wandered over to James. ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that.¡± He said, before glancing over at Arrush and Keeka, who were now both watching him with a myriad of mismatched eyes. ¡°So¡­ aliens are real, huh?¡± ¡°Not exactly. They¡¯re actually from Earth, more or less.¡± James said. ¡°Thanks though. They¡¯re still¡­ well¡­¡± ¡°Hey, no one likes being called a monster.¡± Charles shrugged, offered James a hand. ¡°Charles Bain.¡± He said. ¡°James Lyle.¡± James took the handshake. ¡°You¡¯re handling this well?¡± ¡°I like The X-FIles.¡± The man said, like that explained anything. Then he leaned in, conspiratorially. ¡°So, you government?¡± ¡°Nope!¡± ¡°Military? Corporation? Wait, no¡­ secret society?¡± The old man asked like he was an expert in these things, but with a kind of deep hunger to know that James empathized with. Like he was faking being ¡®in¡¯, but like the horizon of the world had just opened up into something beyond his wildest dreams and he was terrified it would slip away. ¡°Noooo¡­ well, technically. Though not on purpose. We¡¯re more of¡­ wait, why am I telling you this?!¡± James gave a wry smirk. ¡°Your wife is gonna be mad if you hang out with us all day.¡± ¡°Oh? Gonna be here all day? Maybe we¡¯ll walk back this way and say hi.¡± Charles matched James¡¯ smirk. ¡°Because aliens are real. Who could say no to that?¡± ¡°You¡¯d be surprised. Do you wanna say hi, before you go?¡± James asked. The old man had a grin like a kid at his first circus, his wrinkled and weathered face lit up like a beacon as he moved as fast as he could across the parking lot toward the two ratroaches. This time, Arrush stepped in front of Keeka, and when the man offered a handshake and a name, returned the gesture with a small amount of confusion. Confusion that didn¡¯t really go away as Charles started bombarding him with questions while Keeka tried to fade into the background and escape to the open expanse of sand where there was less interrogation going on. James stuck around to make sure nothing bad happened, but soon enough Charles¡¯ wife came back and yelled at him to help her get the dog who had run off to some new scent adventure. James did give the man a business card, though. He seemed nice. ¡°You okay?¡± He asked Arrush, laying a hand on the ratroach¡¯s shoulder as the two of them ended up as the last ones back by the cars. ¡°No pressure to hurry down to the others, you know.¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± Arrush watched the retreating backs of the couple, Charles shooting looks over his shoulder until he was consumed in a heated conversation with his wife. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡­ that was.¡± ¡°That,¡± James said with a sigh, ¡°is the other side of what I¡¯m kinda worried about. You know how¡­ uh¡­¡± he paused as he tried to think of how to frame this, and then decided to just be direct. ¡°You know how a lot of people are going to see you as a monster, because of how you look?¡± Arrush nodded. He knew. It was unavoidable. ¡°Okay. Wellllll, a lot of people are going to see you as really awesome for basically the same reason.¡± James shrugged. ¡°And that¡¯s not bad on its own. Charlie there seemed nice enough, right?¡± ¡°He was rude¡­ that I had a boyfriend¡­¡± Arrush chittered out in a huff. ¡°Okay, well, nobody¡¯s perfect.¡± ¡°He said that, yes.¡± Arrush¡¯s muzzle twitched. James¡¯ own lip twitched back in annoyance as he ground his teeth slightly. ¡°Yeah, alright, fuck that guy. My point is, there¡¯s gonna be people who are gonna see you as proof humanity isn¡¯t alone, or as a part of a bigger universe that¡¯s opening up to us, or just physically attractive because you¡¯re different. Some of those people are gonna find you hot. Like, ¡®really, I would like to have sex with that guy¡¯ hot.¡± James shrugged again. ¡°And some of them are gonna be weird about it. So, this was kind of¡­ eh. Middle of the road I guess.¡± ¡°He cared what I was.¡± Arrush tilted his triangular head down to look at the hands poking out of the sleeves of his hoodie. ¡°But he was¡­ not afraid. That matters. I think?¡± ¡°It does!¡± James agreed cheerfully. ¡°I hope a lot more people are like that!¡± Arrush nodded, wiping away a line of corrosive saliva with his sleeve. Then he looked down the trail to the beach, where the others had all gone to start claiming a space on the sand. ¡°I would like¡­ to be around others now.¡± He said, a lightness in his voice James hadn¡¯t heard before very often. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go. I¡¯m gonna make sure Anesh got all my shovels. Meet you down there?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush drew the word out with a wet hiss. Then he paused before walking off the gravel and onto the sand. Not because the new terrain frightened or enthralled him; he was aware of sand, even though he hadn¡¯t experienced it yet. Instead, he glanced back over his shoulder at James, who had slung an old shovel over his shoulder and was closing the trunk of his car and checking his keys. ¡°Find me¡­ attractive?¡± He hissed to himself. ¡°Very.¡± Keeka¡¯s clipped voice didn¡¯t startle him, coming from the dune grass he was laying in off to the side of the little path. He and his boyfriend had lived through too many situations where their stealth was the only way they¡¯d survived for him to be spooked by it now. ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°You, yes.¡± Arrush said easily, turning back with a wide arc of movement. ¡°Not me.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Keeka rose out of the grass, his hoodie and skirt already covered in a thin layer of sand. ¡°Should work on that.¡± He chittered, almost playfully, as he fell into step beside his partner, the two of them heading down to the shoreline in close proximity. James trailed behind them, giving the two space and also distracted by nearly dropping his car keys twice. He¡¯d cut to the good part of being at the beach, and left his shoes in the car, and as he stepped onto the sand he felt the old familiar sensation of realizing that he had no idea what temperature sand was supposed to be. It was maybe an hour or so after the sun had been at its highest point, a sunny day even though the wind and sea spray were keeping the heat down, and yet the sand was always so cold here. Even now, under ideal conditions, it was still only barely warmer than his feet were. But he still smiled as he started walking down the valley between the sand dunes; this place was somewhere he¡¯d always loved going as a kid, and doing it again now as an adult when he could drag a bunch of friends and random additions along was even better. In his vision, as soon as he left the parking lot, the navigator he shared his brain with unleashed a riot of orange motion lines. He didn¡¯t say anything out loud, but James could practically hear Zhu clamoring for him to go climb something or follow the curves of the dunes or go see what was underneath the porch of one of the houses that abutted the beach. He shook his head and grinned; it was easy to forget sometimes that the navigator really was a kid in a lot of ways. But also James totally planned to go do those things later. He rounded the corner and hiked the few hundred feet to where the group had claimed a territory at the base of one one the dunes, the space containing a semicircle of driftwood logs and the remains of someone else¡¯s beach fire. It surprised him that he didn¡¯t actually know several of the people here except as faces that were around the Lair sometimes. A couple people from Response and one from Recovery, he was pretty sure. But then, people changed jobs in the Order all the time, so maybe not. Nate was unfolding the legs of his portable grill. Alanna was showing Texture-Of-Barkdust how to build a sandcastle. Anesh was¡­ actually all three Anesh were sitting on one of the logs and shifting like they were constantly trying to dust all the sand off. That, James knew, was futile. He had never once left the beach without sand in his ears and pockets, that he would continue to find for weeks or months. ¡°That¡¯s never gonna be un-sanded.¡± James said to Anesh as he passed, sticking his shovel into the sand next to the others with a rasp. ¡°How¡¯s the ground feel? You doing alright?¡± He asked the lone camraconda with them. ¡°Mmmh.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust gave him an organic hum as she craned her neck down to look over herself. ¡°It is odd, but I do not think will be a problem. Our cables are somewhat sealed. Thank you.¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem.¡± James grinned. ¡°So! Who wants to help me dig a hole?¡± He asked with unleashed enthusiasm. ¡° A whole what?¡± Nate asked him suspiciously as he pulled a bottle of beer with a label that looked like it took a graphic designer just as long to ferment as the beverage inside out of a cooler and snapped the top off. James ignored him, very loudly. ¡°Alanna! You like physical exercise! Help me dig a hole!¡± ¡°Is this how you flirt with people?¡± Alanna asked him. ¡°Ask Raul! He likes holes!¡± The guy from earlier looked up sharply. ¡°I told you I liked the movie Holes. The one with Shia LaBeouf, that¡¯s a thinly veiled metaphor for the prison industrial complex, and also delightful. Also that was a month ago, and I think the only other time we¡¯ve talked was when we coordinate a search and rescue, how do you remember that?¡± He demanded, casually accepting the consolation beer from Nate before looking down at the bottle and handing it off to the other girl from Response who was arranging a beach towel on the sand next to the log. Wordlessly, Nate reached back to the cooler and replaced the beer with some kind of soda, which Raul cracked, curly black hair bobbing as he nodded appreciatively. ¡°I have memory upgrades!¡± Alanna said. ¡°Those are for short term memory.¡± Anesh reminded her. ¡°Well maybe I just like listening to people and remembering things about them.¡± Alanna said, defensively. ¡°Wait, why am I¡­ god dammit, James, give me a fucking shovel. I changed my mind, I want to escape this conversation.¡± James laughed, and it caught among a few of the others. He also pretended that El had actually escaped his notice, the girl having rolled over a log in a way that he was almost certain he couldn¡¯t do as soon as he¡¯d started looking for assistants. It was the polite thing to do for someone who pulled a maneuver like that. He marked out a circle in the sand, and after Alanna added an annex to it, they started to dig. Cheerfully shifting shovels full of sand onto the beach. It didn¡¯t actually take long for Alanna to get into it. ¡°This is weirdly relaxing, for manual labor.¡± She commented. ¡°It¡¯s because you know we¡¯re gonna put fire in it and roast marshmallows.¡± James told her. ¡°We don¡¯t actually need a pit fifteen feet across for that.¡± She told him with a snort of laughter, but he just shrugged. ¡°Alright, well, are we also gonna build a driftwood palisade?¡± James grinned as he moved another shovel of sand. ¡°You do know this tradition!¡± He said gleefully. Overhead, the sun shone. The roar of the waves filled the air, nearby and omnipresent but never overwhelming. A few seagulls swirled in the air nearby, waiting to see if they could ambush anyone for their chips; when it became clear no one had opened a bag of chips, they circled somewhere else. Texture-Of-Barkdust came over to offer moral support. Nate finished setting up his grill, and in the absence of a demand for lunch, started trying to get people to throw a football around. El came over to actually help dig, possibly to avoid being roped into throwing a football around. Four new people joined them - James recognizing them as some of the residents of the house under Clutter Ascent - and were greeted with almost being hit by a football. Flush with the nourishment of a completed journey, Zhu broke away from James for a while to go wander the dunes between them and the town. El sent Speaker with him, just in case. She didn¡¯t say just in case of what, but the two different infomorphs roamed off in search of cool sticks and buried treasure. They didn¡¯t give up on digging a beach pit. But they did take a break, leaving it about a foot deep, which was still an impressive amount of sand moved, to go grab some drinks. ¡°Can I ask a question?¡± Raul prompted James in the ancient paradoxical tradition of asking if you could ask something. James opened his mouth to comment on that, but then just chuckled to himself and nodded, leaning back against the driftwood log where he was sitting with Anesh¡¯s legs dangling next to him, his boyfriend petting his head idly as he read something. ¡°Okay. So. I love my job. Helping people is rewarding and everything, and I¡¯ve actually learned a lot in my time here. But how exactly¡­ do we make money?¡± Raul looked almost apologetic as he said the words ¡°Oh, is that all!¡± James sighed in relief. ¡°I thought you were gonna ask something bad, the way you were talking.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± Anesh curiously inquired, one of him setting down the book he was reading. James paused before answering. Were his boyfriend all reading the same book? It did sort of look that way. He filed that away for later. ¡°Uh¡­ I dunno, like something about cultural development, or our hypocrisy in regards to dungeon secrecy, or, like¡­ uh¡­ why we don¡¯t end wars or something.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t we end wars?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°I mean, if we could, we should. There¡¯s this whole thing going on in the Ukraine right now, I hear.¡± ¡®It¡¯s just Ukraine.¡± The other Response girl joined in. James apologetically asked her name, and she laughed lightly. ¡°Ishka. Hi. But yes, just Ukraine. The definitive article was used by the USSR, I think, and they dropped it with independence.¡± ¡°That¡¯s actually cool to know, thanks.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Anyway, James, the war stopping?¡± James snorted. ¡°Kay, two things. One, we can¡¯t just stop a war. Two¡­ that¡¯s kind of it. What are we supposed to do, just teleport in and shoot Putin? Even if that worked, we live in a world where I swear to god someone else has to have teleportation. I¡¯d lay good odds he¡¯s already dead, and the war¡¯s still happening. I legitimately don¡¯t even know what we¡¯d contribute, aside from, like, making life harder for some people.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°That¡¯s what war is.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s my point.¡± James stated. ¡°Even with teleportation, we can¡¯t actually do much more than join a war. And I don¡¯t actually want to do that. I don¡¯t want¡­ I don¡¯t want our reputation to be as soldiers. Maybe that¡¯s not a good way to look at it, but we¡¯re gonna be doing some impactful stuff in the future, and it¡¯ll seriously hurt us if people think of our organization as particularly effective killers.¡± Raul nodded. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t ask that then.¡± He said, digging a heel into the sand. James nodded with him. ¡°Agreed. Anyway, we make money through a series of increasingly stupid and arcane methods.¡± He answered the actual question. ¡°Basically everything we do is a net negative on the balance sheet. Response and Recovery are actually big money sinks, and Research¡­¡± He trailed off, shuddering. ¡°Did you know they¡¯re actually building a prototype for a space elevator? Do you have any idea how expensive that is? I don¡¯t! But Karen does, and she won¡¯t stop telling me about it.¡± ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve heard that term around.¡± Ishka stated. ¡°But I do not know what that means.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Anesh excitedly perked up. ¡°It¡¯s a device for moving stuff from the surface to orbit, but a permanent structure, so it can mitigate the insane resource cost of launching rockets. The design uses magical bullshit. Or, I mean, ours does.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± The girl pursed her lips. ¡°Why¡­ why do we have magical bullshit?¡± ¡°Because it makes us money.¡± James said, not bothering to contain his grin. ¡°Okay, so, you¡¯re probably aware we know about dungeons, yes?¡± Affirmative replies came back. ¡°Well, a lot of what we¡¯re trying to do is turn that magic into stuff that¡¯s useful. Like Response abusing teleportation. Or opening up space exploration. And a side effect of that kind of thing is that we can often find ways to make money off it, because useful things are usually profitable.¡± ¡°You just told us that our jobs don¡¯t make any money.¡± Raul glared at him. ¡°Well yeah, but we could if we wanted to.¡± James said defensively. ¡°Anyway, we actually make money mostly by having a matter duplicator.¡± He told his now fully disbelieving audience. ¡°A lot of our recent income has been from sales of platinum. Turns out, when you offer a great deal on a scarce resource, no one cares if your salesperson is a camraconda, and Texture-Of-Barkdust over there is actually good at her job. Uh¡­ there¡¯s that, and then the cure for cancer we have. We have two, actually! First priority goes to Order members, then their families, then we raffle them, basically. The raffle is totally fair, and costs one percent of your net worth if you win, and that basically only had to land on someone wealthy once.¡± ¡°We¡¯re charging people to cure cancer?¡± Raul looked conflicted. ¡°That seems¡­ weird, for us.¡± Alanna dropped onto the sand next to them, depositing the armful of driftwood sticks she¡¯d been gathering. ¡°People charge for cancer cures all the time. Our rates are almost painfully low, actually. Though I look forward to not having to do it anymore. And I agree, I also felt gross when Justine proposed that idea.¡± ¡°Same.¡± James admitted. ¡°The percentage thing was a good idea though. But honestly, that¡¯s only a tiny fraction of our income at this point. We had a massive influx this year from¡­ uh¡­ being¡­ highly effective killers.¡± He paused. ¡°Wait shit.¡± ¡°He means that we absorbed the survivors of the Alchemist¡¯s Guild, and-¡° ¡°Guild of Alchemists.¡± ¡°-and whatever they were called,¡± Alanna continued undeterred, ¡°part of their surrender included the transfer of assets.¡± Raul looked uncomfortable with that. ¡°Isn¡¯t that kinda grim?¡± Alanna gave an easy shrug. ¡°I mean, they were sitting on pretty hefty wealth for no reason. We¡¯ll put it to use. That¡¯s really all I actually give a shit about, if we¡¯re being honest.¡± ¡°Alanna¡¯s big on use of power.¡± James explained. ¡°And I¡¯m inclined to agree; anyone sitting on a lot of potential good like that is a problem. It¡¯s part of why we don¡¯t hoard wealth. We¡¯ve got a lot of money now, but we aim to spend it all, even if we¡¯re still making more.¡± ¡°No, yeah, I get that. Is that why we¡¯re getting more people soon? Or, I heard that, anyway.¡± Ishka looked around at them. ¡°Also where are the drinks? I should get a drink.¡± She¡¯d barely finished saying it before Nate passed by, handing her something in a can. The woman blinked, looking after the stocky red faced chef as he flung a football in a high arc to one of the ratroaches who kicked up sand in frantic plumes as he ran to catch it. ¡°How¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ve learned to stop asking.¡± James said. ¡°I mean, actually. Everyone has so many dumb bullshit tricks around here, it¡¯s basically impossible to tell if something is magic or not without checking the database. Just roll with it.¡± He leaned back, making an appreciative noise as Anesh scratched his neck. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ no offense here, but¡­¡± Raul started. James barked a laugh, but didn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°I mean, that¡¯s a weird attitude for someone who wants to replace the police?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve tempered somewhat.¡± James admitted. ¡°I doubt we¡¯ll be able to ¡®replace the police¡¯. Even just in this one country. I think the best we can hope for is transferring skill sets to our own ¡®nation¡¯ when we set up shop, and doing things our way on a scale that matters. But honestly, holy crap, the police are worrying, and for a whole new reason now.¡± He blew out a long breath. ¡°You know how easy it was to just¡­ walk someone out of lockup? El robbed an evidence room, and no one even saw her. Even putting aside the judgement call on the ethics of modern policing or how police unions enable gang behavior or, like, anything having to do with shooting random civilians. It is terrifying how easy it was to get away with that.¡± Raul and Ishka shared a worried look, then simultaneously looked back at James with matching facial expressions that made him think these two were experienced teammates. ¡°Are you actually supposed to be telling us that?¡± ¡°What, are you gonna turn me in? You work for an magical anti-authoritarian civil safety organization, they¡¯d arrest you in a heartbeat and you know it.¡± ¡°Yeeeeeeah.¡± Raul shrugged. ¡°I mean, ACAB, really. It¡¯s just weird to hear you actually went that far.¡± ¡°I somehow doubt that¡¯s gonna be the end of it. Especially if things in New York escalate. When, I guess, not if.¡± He sighed. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m gonna get back to digging. I¡¯ve got a second wind, and I wanna build a wall.¡± James said with a waggle of his eyebrows and a cheerful voice. Anesh joined him this time, the three of him helping to make good progress. Alanna and the other Response members kept talking about the responsibility of power, which James appreciated, but he wasn¡¯t here to talk shop really. Even though he said that every time he tried to take a break, and it never worked. Some more people arrived, teleporting in basically in plain view. El came over to hide in the growing hole James was digging when her mom arrived with one of the youth group packs. The two of them talked about weird shit she¡¯d seen in the Route for a while, and James expressed that he¡¯d love to go back sometime and start trying to piece together more spells. El offered to let him in if he let her brew a potion, since she ¡®had a feeling¡¯, and James had to reminder that neither of those things were things either of them could trade, but that she could probably take a shot anyway, and so he¡¯d plan for Saturday. People passed by, the beach wasn¡¯t empty, and it was a nice enough day that James assumed there¡¯d even be younger kids later in the evening after school let out and families came down for walks or to let their kids run around. After the sixth person who asked if the camracondas were drones, Scent-Of-Rain had teleported away and back again, returning with a laser etched metal placard that read ¡®Not Drones¡¯, and a wooden post that she got El to help her drive into the sand. Whichever of their basement engineers had made it had also drawn a very badly proportioned snake emblem on the bottom. It was adorable. Some of the group inevitably ended up in the water while scavenging for shells, or just while trying to get into the ocean, because there was a certain compulsion to go in the ocean. Unfortunately, here was where a lot of camracondas learned that part of the ¡®organic¡¯ in the ¡®technorganic¡¯ of their bodies included an aversion to dunking their lenses in salt water. It was hard to compare the pain with simple words to a human who opened their eyes in the ocean, so instead of doing that, some of the masochistic idiots that James called companions started using skulljacks to package .pain files and sharing them around to see whose body was worse for undersea operation. Because that was just what was happening today. For his part, Nate refused to get involved, and started grilling. The smell of lighter fluid and burning coals quickly joined by the mouth watering scent of cooking steak and chicken kebabs. And the air filled further with him calling out finished food for the hungry to file past and make their lunch. James smiled as he watched the scene, not quite ready to eat himself; he sorta knew Nate was one of those people who was only really happy when he was working, but it was at least nice to see him working at something fun like this. James was sitting on the ledge of his increasingly impressive beach pit, at one of the points where they¡¯d used some driftwood planks and packed sand to make steps up, and hadn¡¯t made a piled wall of sand around the outside. He was covered in sand, in his clothes, under his fingernails, in his hair; he smelled sand, tasted sand. And his hands and arms ached something fierce. But he was weirdly satisfied with the cool little space he¡¯d made to let a ten - or twenty very cozy - people sit together and roast marshmallows later. Which was when the horse came by. It was hard to not notice a horse on the beach. There¡¯d been a few people who¡¯d zipped by on three wheeled bikes earlier, which was also noticeable, and one person James thought was a conservation ranger in a little cart, but horse was a category all its own. He pulled himself out of the pit and tried to brush as much of the slightly wet sand off him as he could as the rider approached the space that his friends and companions had sprawled across. Then he got instantly disappointed as he realized the rider was wearing a gold shield badge, and that this was a police horse, making it a lot less interesting. The officer rode up with his hand resting on the butt of his holstered pistol, a move that already had James interested in being A Problem for this man. ¡°¡®Scuse me sir.¡± The officer said in a domineering voice that sounded like it had never actually mean the words ¡®excuse me¡¯ in its life. ¡°No drones on this beach.¡± James tried to run through every ritual he had to keep from saying something stupid. He refrained from slowly looking at the ¡®not drones¡¯ sign. He did not say any of the dozen things he wanted to say about reading comprehension, he did not attempt to start a fight by ordering the man to take his hand off his fucking gun, he did not do a lot of the things he really, really felt like. That would have ruined a perfectly good day. Instead, he gave a politely winning smile; the kind of smile JP had taught him was excellent at masking your utter contempt for someone, and both of them had bonded over how much they needed that skill. ¡°Oh, of course!¡± James said cheerfully. ¡°There was no posted sign for non-aerial drones! We¡¯ll make sure there¡¯s no drones on the beach ASAP. Sir.¡± He almost forgot the magic word. The officer narrowed his eyes at James anyway, the horse giving a snort and idly kicking at the sand with one hoof. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll be back by later to check.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± James nodded, still smiling, and stood waving as the horse took its rider away. When he turned around, his face went from cheerful facade to furiously angry so fast that Alanna uttered a low ¡°Yikes!¡± As she approached him. ¡°Everything okay?¡± He breathed deeply. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said. ¡°Totally fine. No drones on the beach, so we¡¯re good.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have any drones.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°There¡¯s a sign, even!¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t tell him that.¡± James said. ¡°Why¡­?¡± ¡°I have a feeling it would have ended badly.¡± He grumbled. ¡°Ugh. I¡¯m angrier than normal. Literally all he had to do was not finger a deadly weapon while he talked to me. That¡¯s the lowest fucking bar, right?¡± Alanna patted him on the shoulder, and James pulled a face as the sand in his shirt itched against his skin. ¡°You seem hungry. Go get a kebab.¡± ¡°Eehhhhh¡­.¡± ¡°Nate made all-veggie ones too! Eat a whole onion!¡± She urged him. James cracked a grin. ¡°You know, I fucking love that he makes vegetarian and vegan stuff like it¡¯s not a big deal? He doesn¡¯t really have the vibe of someone who¡¯d make veggie kebabs, right?¡± ¡°He looks like he¡¯d eat a vegetarian.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°Go get a kebab. Stop stalling, you goof.¡± His partner didn¡¯t relent, shoving him around his pit and over to Nate¡¯s grill and teleport-assisted logistics station, glowering at him until he finally started eating something. She knew, for a fact, that James would sometimes just not eat for a while, losing a little bit of his emotional stability with each hour as he got distracted. It happened less and less, with his antidepressants in play, but Alanna was a trained eye at noticing that kind of behavior and making sure he didn¡¯t ruin his own day without meaning to. ¡°Here.¡± Nate just deposited two skewers of meat and vegetables in a red plastic basket and handed it to James. ¡°Eat this. And stop asking me Rogue questions.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­¡± James started to protest, then looked around. ¡°Are there even Rogues here today?¡± He demanded. ¡°I don¡¯t know who works where, Nate, I can¡¯t be responsible for this kind of thing.¡± The chef snorted, giving a relieved ¡®thanks¡¯ to Knife-In-Fangs as the camraconda blipped into existence near him, depositing a tray of uncooked skewers. He did so with his mouth, which was¡­ a little weird, to James¡¯ food safety sensibilities, but no camraconda was reckless enough to actually bring their mechanical arm packs here. Nate didn¡¯t seem to pay it much mind, addressing James as he scrubbed an onion across the hot metal bars of his grill and added another row of chicken, trying to guess how many people were eying his food like circling predators. ¡°A few here. JP¡¯ll be by later with some others, after they pull out of New York fully.¡± Nate said. ¡°I wanna talk about that later.¡± He added. ¡°You want to bail.¡± James said, without anger or malice, around a mouthful of chicken that tasted like lemon and pepper and a million other herbs. Nate looked up at him with an appraising eye. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said. ¡°I do. This is a bad call on our part.¡± ¡°Sell me on it.¡± James said simply. And again, Nate reappraised him. ¡°You don¡¯t want to be involved.¡± He said with a flat grunt as he used a pair of tongs to flip the kebabs in order. ¡°Not what I expected.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t get me wrong,¡± James said, feeling some energy return as he ate, the food flavored more by hunger and the constant physical work he¡¯d been doing the last few hours. ¡°I wanna stop this. But, like¡­ it¡¯s abstract right now. The stuff with, like, Status Quo, or the Alchemists, or whatever. We dealt with that because it was in front of us. We were there already. This is just¡­ Nate, how thin are we stretched already?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that bad, but it¡¯s not like we couldn¡¯t use more people. A dozen half trained field agents isn¡¯t a lot. And we don¡¯t really have a data analysis staff except for Recovery.¡± Nate shrugged. ¡°We don¡¯t have a lot of digital backup. Maybe get Momo to build an AI to spy on everyone for us or some fuckin¡¯ thing.¡± ¡°Momo¡­ would probably not do that.¡± James said slowly, raising his basket up as a pair of kids scrambled by under where he was standing, getting a barked yell from Nate to get the fuck away from the grill when it was on. ¡°But then, I haven¡¯t seen Momo for over an hour, so the odds that she¡¯s either already built one out of seashells is pretty high.¡± ¡°Actually?¡± Nate asked, half-serious. ¡°Probably not.¡± James admitted. ¡°But I do legitimately worry that whenever she¡¯s not directly observed, something spooky could be happening.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll talk to JP when he¡¯s here. We¡¯ll get a pros and cons of this op for you. Fuck, for the Order, really. You¡¯re not my boss.¡± Nate dashed a bottle of some sauce over the kebabs, and jerked his head for James to get out of the way. ¡°More food¡¯s up!¡± He called, and a flurry of sand signaled people reacting to the holy words. Shaking his head as he walked off, James tried to find a seat to eat on, but all the logs were occupied by a group eagerly talking about the care and feeding of paper dragons, and while there was a beanbag chair that would absolutely never fully get the sand out of it now, that seat was reserved for Banana; the crow-wasp girl twitching with rapid motions to take in the beach full of people with an excited and hungry look in her remaining eye, Deb and Alex sitting on either side of her in case she needed something. Though Alex was also idly building a sand castle that was doomed to be stepped on at some point. He ended up taking steps up the side of one of the dunes that their part of the beach abutted, his bare feet sinking into the sand with that strange feeling of going through a hot crust to the cool buried grains. James tried to get to the top without needing to use his hands, so he could eat with relatively unsanded food, and the feat was harder than he remembered it being. Even with his magically enhanced agility, climbing shifting sand was still effort. He stood atop the dune, looking down over the fifty people from the Order spread across a thousand feet of sand around him. Smelling the sea air and charcoal fire, feeling the dune grass stab his calves like he¡¯d slighted its parentage, and listening to the crash of the waves as it drowned out all the human noises except the occasional shriek from one of the teenagers. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs to bursting and feeling a tension he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding slough off as he took a minute alone. Not isolated or lonely, just away from everyone for a minute. Then he blinked as he became vaguely aware that he was not actually alone up here. James tilted his head to look down over his left shoulder, at where a pair of ratroaches were laying among the grass. Arrush was on his back with Keeka¡¯s hoodie under his head as a pillow while two of his free hands tried to weave a circle out of several blades of the sharp grass here, while Keeka lay on top of him like a curled up cat. Arrush noticed James looking down at them when he opened a few of his mismatched eyes, a light green tinge creeping in to the flesh around them where the chitin and fur ended. ¡°Oh, this is where you¡¯ve been hiding!¡± James said in a friendly voice. Keeka, who had not realized anyone was there, made a noise halfway between a shriek and a clicking snapping hiss, the fur on his exposed back shooting straight up like he was a porcupine prepared to stab an incoming predator. He also shot upward, legs and skirt trailing sand as he whirled on James in the span of a second. Part of James was thrilled that finally, finally, he was the one doing the surprising. That part was overruled, currently, by the part of him that was letting out a startled squawk, falling on his ass, and being really sad that his onion skewer was now half covered in sand. ¡°Aw.¡± He said sadly, making a halfhearted attempt to blow sand off his dinner. ¡°Okay.¡± James nodded and set the bright red plastic basket next to him. ¡°Hi there.¡± ¡°Hello.¡± Arrush huffed out, lungs wheezing as his boyfriend stood perched on his chest. Keeka realized quickly what he was doing, and chittered an apology as he skittered backward and dropped onto the sand, breathing heavily, arms coming up to cover parts of his chest that¡­ James tried to figure out exactly why Keeka was acting embarrassed, since he had fur that he¡¯d let grow out a bit to the point that it mostly covered the more insectile bits of his anatomy. He didn¡¯t want to stare, but he tried to figure out exactly what Keeka was covering. And when the ratroach shifted slightly, James started to wonder if he was trying to hide the old scars from where infected flesh had been stitched together. ¡°You two having fun canoodling up here?¡± James asked, shifting back and forth to make himself a makeshift seat in the sand, grains of sand scraping at his legs. ¡°And I say that not actually remembering what that word means.¡± ¡°It sounds rude to do outside of our rooms.¡± Arrush said, one small arm poking at his ribs and wondering if one of them had been cracked. ¡°Deb told us that.¡± Next to him, Keeka, slowly settling down, nodded sheepishly. James cleared his throat, heat rising in his cheeks. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± He asked. ¡°Did¡­ was there¡­¡± He trailed off as he heard a wet clicking sound from Arrush, and realized the big ratroach was laughing at him. ¡°Oh, I see how it is!¡± James said, face twisting into a smile and a laugh even as he bit his cheek to try to contain it. ¡°Alright, alright. I deserved that I assume. But really, how¡¯re you two doing? We don¡¯t get much chance to talk, do we?¡± He looked over at Keeka, then down at himself. ¡°Also do you want my shirt or something? If you¡¯re not feeling comfortable, and so Arrush doesn¡¯t have to give up his pillow?¡± Keeka shook his head, small droplets of blue corrosive saliva beading on the sand nearby. He started to say something, but from where he was laying on the dune, Arrush held up his left arm and the other arm that split off from it, both hands in a ¡®hold on¡¯ gesture. ¡°Yes.¡± He said. Maybe a little enthusiastically. Keeka squeaked something horribly embarrassed, and James laughed as he casually unbuttoned his Hawaiian shirt and passed it over, Keeka taking it with an unsteady hand, and taking a few seconds to figure out how to manipulate all his lithe arms into the short sleeves. ¡°We are good.¡± Arrush said from the ground as Keeka settled in, more comfortable with the loose shirt over his chest. ¡°We are¡­ I don¡¯t know how to say it all.¡± He didn¡¯t meet James¡¯ eyes, instead tipping his head back, antenna digging tiny lines in the sand as he stared up at the blue sky with all five half open eyes. ¡°So much less pain.¡± ¡°From so many fewer places.¡± Keeka added. ¡°You don¡¯t know. How it feels to not have to hide.¡± He shifted one of his digitigrade legs, his curved paw wrapping around Arrush¡¯s counterpart. ¡°I can do this¡­ and be less afraid.¡± He said. ¡°Not not afraid?¡± James asked, curious and sad in equal measure. ¡°Never not afraid.¡± Keeka whispered, words almost swallowed by the breeze. James pursed his lips, glancing behind himself briefly as a kid screamed, just to make sure it was because of something fun and not something alarming. ¡°I do kinda get it.¡± He said. ¡°Not to your degree, obviously, but I get it. The hiding.¡± ¡°How?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°You¡­ you have¡­¡± He waved a hand toward the beach. ¡°Anesh and Alanna and Anesh and Anesh and¡­¡± He broke off laughing as Keeka crossed his arms and pulled back his muzzle in an expression that looked truly bizarre but could only ever be an exasperated pout. ¡°Yeah, I have them. I do. Do you know we were only together for¡­ oh heck, a year and a half before we met? It wasn¡¯t that long. Because we were all idiots and afraid of talking to each other or something, I don¡¯t remember.¡± James tossed a hand up in a motion of casual dismissal. ¡°And, I wanna be clear here, this isn¡¯t even close to the level of trauma you guys are working on. But, like¡­ I feel bad that I was always too scared to tell my dad, you know?¡± ¡°Why?¡± Keeka asked. Arrush cut in. ¡°I know.¡± He said, in a squeaking chitter that was weirdly adorable coming from his larger frame. ¡°I have heard, from others around home. It¡­ is it¡­ not that you had¡­ love¡­ but that it was the wrong person?¡± James sighed. ¡°Something like that, yeah. Modern US society is getting better about not being pissy about guys dating each other. And also a little better about polyamory. Which is that thing where you have more than one partner. But it¡¯s still kinda uncommon, and I was just terrified of how my parents would react, so I just didn¡¯t tell them. Put it off and put it off and now they¡¯re vanished, and I¡¯ll probably never get the chance.¡± James tried to give a small smile. ¡°But yeah, I sorta understand being afraid. Even if it¡¯s not as bad.¡± ¡°Not a contest.¡± Keeka said, leaning forward with a long arm and a tiny twig of driftwood to tap James on the head. ¡°Connie told me. We aren¡¯t supposed to make our pain a contest.¡± ¡°Connie is very smart.¡± James nodded, smiling earnestly again. ¡°But also, like, I know your physical pain is still pretty bad. So, I look forward to getting the all clear to do some more work with the shaper substance to maybe fix that. Assuming you¡¯re okay with it.¡± ¡°I hate it.¡± Arrush said with a vehement snarl that emptied his lungs in a rush and left him panting on the ground. ¡°But¡­ we can¡¯t¡­ keep taking¡­ potions forever.¡± ¡°Potions help, though, right?¡± James might have sounded a little nervous, but he was legitimately worried about these two. Them, and the others back at the Lair, who were still adapting to life outside of the Akashic Sewer. Keeka and Arrush were incredibly fragile, in a lot of ways, and they were the ones who had been modified to survive a fight. The other ratroaches were far too vulnerable, and so James felt like anything that could ease their pain was valuable. ¡°They do.¡± Arrush said with satisfaction. Then he paused. ¡°Something you said¡­ is it not normal? To have several boyfriends?¡± James shrugged. He opened his mouth to answer, and paused only briefly as he spotted a rustling in the grass two dunes over. He blinked, and kept a sliver of focus on it, but started talking anyway. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna use words like normal.¡± He said. ¡°Nothing in my life is normal. It¡¯s a bad baseline. A lot of normal things suck.¡± James rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. ¡°Though it¡¯s not something people are used to, so that causes friction sometimes. And, like with basically every relationship thing, there¡¯s a million ways to screw it up. Why, you two looking to date someone?¡± He smiled and bit his tongue, amused by the thought. ¡°Just Arrush is, now.¡± Keeka said as he reached down two paws to run them across Arrush¡¯s stomach, wearing his own grin that froze on his muzzle as a twitch of motion and artificial color caught his attention in the dune grass to his side. James also saw it. And recognized it, this time. Or at least, the color of the unstealthy shirt. It was at least one, possibly three, of the high school interns, part of the collective youth group that had joined the day at the beach. It was also, he realized, one of the kids who still had a real problem with the ratroaches. Not specifically; Keeka and Arrush had never done a thing to anyone here. But in the abstract. They¡¯d focused on the trauma of the loss they¡¯d suffered at the hands of the Akashic Sewer, and were slowly turning it into bitter anger and hate at a whole species. Which, well. James wasn¡¯t a fan. He also wasn¡¯t a fan of teenagers trying to sneak up on him. But James led a cluttered life, and he had a developed love of multitasking. He met Keeka¡¯s eye, and gave a tiny shake of his head. The black furred ratroach didn¡¯t untense, but did cock his head slightly at James, his triangular muzzle cracking open slightly in silent question. ¡°So, everything else been going okay?¡± James asked, keeping his voice even. JP had tried to make him a viable field agent, and James was pretty damn sure he didn¡¯t have the attitude for it, but he did sorta remember the lesson on how to be eavesdropped on. Keeka slowly nodded, eyes flicking rapidly between James, and the teenagers shimmying through the grass to sneak up on them. He answered anyway. ¡°Yes.¡± He said. ¡°There is so¡­ much. The world is huge. Did you know how many cities there are?¡± He asked, slightly distracting himself. ¡°¡­I actually¡­ don¡¯t know.¡± James suddenly blinked in realization. ¡°Like, cities of at least twenty thousand people or so? Shit, there¡¯s gotta be¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Ten thousand!¡± Keeka said, excitedly. ¡°Ten thousand people?¡± ¡°Cities.¡± Arrush cut in. ¡°He watches them, on the cameras.¡± He curled a footpaw around Keeka¡¯s, digging another temporary line in the sand. James nodded, eyes wide. ¡°That¡¯s actually more than I realized. Uh¡­ are you planning to visit any of them? I know you two have had some problems with hostility lately.¡± He didn¡¯t speak up, he just made his voice clear enough to carry when he said that. Arrush propped himself up, rolling onto a side and using three of his arms to hold himself facing the other two, eyes glittering as he looked at his boyfriend. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°It is¡­ too much.¡± ¡°Too many people.¡± Keeka said. ¡°Too many¡­ other people. We aren¡¯t stupid. No one would want us there.¡± He made a wet sniffing noise. ¡°It hurts. Even here with you, at home, sometimes.¡± The ratroach said, a little loudly, staring at James with an expression of deep satisfaction at having caught on to the bit. ¡°Aw.¡± James gave a sad grimace. ¡°Yeah, I know Arrush was having a problem with some of the interns being¡­ well, cruel, really.¡± He said. ¡°He asked us to give them another chance, but¡­ weeeeeelll¡­¡± James trailed off. Arrush, blind to the byplay, gave a shrug of his wide shoulders. ¡°They are children. Still learning. It will be okay, and I will¡­ survive. They can learn to not hate. I won¡¯t hate them while they grow up.¡± His voice didn¡¯t shake as he said it, and he looked up at the sky again, neck cracking as he smiled peacefully, staring up at the thin clouds. Out of the corner of his eye, James watched as a trio of those children try to stealthily exfiltrate themselves from a situation that had been made especially awkward for them. Keeka noticed too, and leaned into Arrush in a hug that tried to envelop the bigger ratroach in thin limbs, Shaking lightly with contained laughter as he did so. ¡°Welp.¡± James chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ll see how that turns out, I guess.¡± ¡°How what does?¡± Arrush asked, confused. James just laughed loudly, joining the other ratroach as Arrus looked between them with growing curiosity. He stood up, grabbing his thoroughly sanded food. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go get another kebab.¡± He said. ¡°And we¡¯re probably gonna do a big campfire thing later. You two should join us?¡± He prompted. He got nods in response. And also Arrush took the remains of his kebab, eating the whole thing. Skewer, too. Apparently ratroach internal acid didn¡¯t much care about wood. James wandered back, leaving his shirt with Keeka and enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. He got a comical catcall from Alanna, who he rolled his eyes at, and a layer of sunscreen from Anesh, who pretended to be concerned but sure did seem to put a lot of effort into it, which James pointed out with a coy voice that made his boyfriend turn a shade of dark bronze. He didn¡¯t really have anything to do, really. So he wandered the growing crowd, just enjoying the feeling of a community beach cookout for a little. Sarah had arrived, and, as was Sarah¡¯s new favorite thing to do, had organized a game of beach volleyball where each ¡®team¡¯ was one player backed by a half dozen relationstick linked spectators. She sat with a magic book open in her lap as a dozen people cheered for their avatars, swapping out every point to give everyone a chance to try, normal humans pushed to inhuman limits simply by sharing their capabilities with each other. A group of actual younger children, not teenagers, including one of the paper dragons, were assembling an increasingly complex sand castle with plastic buckets and shovels. Nearby, Texture-Of-Barkdust hummed to herself as she held the structure in place with an unblinking eye, making a strangely stable platform for the dragon to roost on. James made small talk with a passing family, two parents and a young girl who was currently trying to get the dragon to let her ride it. The parents weren¡¯t really sure what was going on, but they seemed nice enough through their confusion. The mother had some engineering questions about the camracondas, and James pointed to the ¡®not drones¡¯ sign before asking what she did. Apparently, she worked on oscilloscopes, which a long ago yellow orb skill let James converse about for about ten minutes before he got out of his depth. For a while, he took over the grill from Nate, the chef vanishing for half an hour to do¡­ something. While he was gone, JP showed up along with a pair of people James assumed were Rogues, including a still-bruised Yin. He didn¡¯t exactly apologize for how things were going, but he did make it clear he himself was getting annoyed and had what he cryptically referred to as ¡®plans¡¯, which worried James more than the antimemetic assassins, really. At one point, he got roped into a conversation - a debate, more accurately - between several people he¡¯d never met. At first, he worried it was a heated argument about whether they had a responsibility to use the Alchemist¡¯s stolen potion-producing tree to do anything more than just enrich themselves, but quickly realized that one of the participants was a living potion person, and that the conversation was quite literally about using the sap from the tree of knowledge to literally enrich themselves, and if that was even possible. It wasn¡¯t an ethical conversation, it was a procedural one, around the capabilities and biology of the artificial alchemical people. James left it feeling quite confused, but knowing that the potion people had started calling themselves ¡®inhabitors¡¯, which he felt was¡­ a strange species name. But not a bad one. As the sun began to turn the day from blue skies to painted sunset, several people went home, exhausted. The rest of them began to convert the pile of salvaged driftwood from haphazard stack, into effective fire pit. James didn¡¯t know how many people gathered in the pit he¡¯d dug, though at some point, someone - several someones, perhaps - had expanded it into a series of sandy foxholes. They got fires going, bags of marshmallows and long sticks passed out as everyone settled down with each other, no one overly worried about the close quarters. A few people hung back on the edges, but James found himself strangely comfortable sandwiched between Alanna and Arrush, his partner slightly tipsy from the few drinks she¡¯d had over the day, and Arrush seemingly uncertain how he¡¯d ended up there in the first place. The fire crackled and popped with orange and red light and heat, not uncomfortable, no, but certainly a gamble that you didn¡¯t end up downward of it and caught in a column of smoke. The smoke smelled like nothing else James had ever encountered; driftwood fires just had their own flavor to them, and he knew it would stick to his clothes and hair for days after. The first marshmallow he tried to roast caught fire. Which was exactly the right way to eat them. The debate from that statement was far more heated than anything else over the course of the day, with James being booed and losing his status as respected hero from half the group as he happily pulled the charcoal exterior of his marshmallow off like a husk and dropped it into his mouth. Alanna tried it, under duress, and proclaimed that James was lucky that she loved him, which, he agreed, really. Arrush tried it, and got melted and burned marshmallow somehow spread across three different hands and a patch of his fur. Someone at the fire next to theirs started playing a guitar, a twangy sound that went from idle strumming to an acoustic version of a song that tickled the recognition in James¡¯ brain but he couldn¡¯t quite place. When someone asked if the song had lyrics, the player paused for a minute, then awkwardly asked if they¡¯d like to sing along, and one hesitant skulljack connection later, simply passed on their own memories to a couple people who wanted to participate. Including, James noted with a flutter in his chest and the soft notes of tears in his eyes, Sarah. She¡¯d been - entirely reasonably - terrified of making any kind of use of the skulljack that had been forced on her for a while. But here she was, being exactly herself, singing just a little badly alongside the others after accepting the connection. James had actually felt weird, today. As more and more people showed up and it became less easy to recognize every face, he¡¯d felt like he was losing a bit of his grip on the whole thing. He¡¯d sort of expected a day with a few friends, not this. But it wasn¡¯t bad, really. He wouldn¡¯t want to do this every time he took a trip, but this was nice, and he didn¡¯t need to be deeply close personal friends with literally everyone in order to recognize that they all had the common goal of being good people and having good lives and making a good world. He would admit, he was a little surprised when he spotted a tall teenager, sporting glasses and a flat haircut, approach Arrush while the ratroach was taking some time away from the crowd. James could have pushed some of his enhanced senses to their limits to hear what was said, but¡­ it seemed personal, and not unkind, and the ratroach came back looking confused, and a little lighter somehow as he settled into the cold sand next to James. But soon enough, it was time to go. As much as he didn¡¯t ever want to leave, though, the day had to end eventually. And as people teleported back home carrying bags of garbage or empty cans, and James loaded his own car in preparation for the tired but refreshed drive home, he had a massive grin on his face. Which was slightly undercut when El came up to him with a worried look. ¡°Hey, assbutt. Have you seen Speaky?¡± She asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t informorphs¡­ inside your head or something?¡± James blinked at her, thoughts falling over each other. ¡°Yeah, well, he¡¯s ¡®out¡¯, and I dunno where he went.¡± She said. ¡°And I¡¯m kinda getting panicked, but trying to hide it.¡± ¡°He and Zhu went out earlier.¡± Anesh said as two of him settled a sleeping Texture-Of-Barkdust into the back seat of the car. She¡¯d asked to be part of the drive back, and with Anesh and Alanna willing to telepad out, she got considerably more space. ¡°James, can you navigate to a navigator? If not, we¡¯ve actually got a few dozen stored¡­ uh¡­ eggs¡­ at the lair. I can go crack one for search and rescue.¡± James started to nod. ¡°Might not be a bad¡­ idea¡­¡± He trailed off as a shape crested one of the dunes toward the parking lot. He was, he knew, the last person off that beach, there was no one else down there. And regardless, it was quadrupedal anyway. Not weird, just kind of not something he was expecting, the animal trotting eagerly up the sandy hill in the last flickers of light for the day. ¡°Is that a coyote?¡± He said, a little surprised. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ uh¡­ wait, no, go somewhere else!¡± He and El stepped back, next to Anesh, as the wild animal made what seemed like a beeline straight for their cars. He fought monsters for a living, and he could probably take a coyote in a fight if he needed to. But that didn¡¯t mean he actually wanted to. Then it came to a cautious stop, about fifteen feet away from them, its matted fur slightly raised, long legs bent like it was prepared to run. It stared at them, and the three of them stared back. Then two flickering auras peeled off of it. One a wispy orange, in the shape of feathers, and the other all fins and eyes in a deeper teal. The two different infomorphs, manifested in slightly different ways, swirled around the coyote as they both faced their hosts. ¡°He followed us home!¡± Zhu exclaimed excitedly, getting a happily agreeing yip from the coyote. ¡°Can we keep him?!¡± James looked back at Anesh and El. His boyfriend just held up his collective hands, shaking his head with pursed lips and a ¡®nope¡¯. El met his eyes, though, and the two of them shared a moment of understanding. They¡¯d passed the moment in their lives where saying ¡°yes¡± to this seemed like it was a good idea. Somehow, they¡¯d become mature adults. James silently pled for help with this situation, and El let out a long sigh as she realized what had happened to her. All things considered, though? Explaining to a pair of nascent infomorphs why it was a bad idea to kidnap random wildlife wasn¡¯t the worst way to end a beautiful day at the beach. Chapter 210 ¡°soon the dogs will howl like a god learning the word for light and nothing will howl back¡± -C.T. Salazar, Noah¡¯s Nameless Wife Takes Inventory- _____ James was ambushed by a flock of ravenous engineers as he was on his way to do¡­ something. He didn¡¯t really know what. He was trying to play into his job description of a roving problem solver, so he was spending his day moving from group to group seeing if there was anything that could be fixed through communication, a new perspective, or his unique ability to survive a worrying amount of punishment. So far, he¡¯d spent the morning mostly being a mediator between two of the ex-Alchemists, who had wanted to just talk to some of the inhabitors that their actions had created. It had taken most of his time in this process to figure out if Nile and Red - both of whom had seemingly decided to never use any other name - were interested in the inhabitors for a mechanical purpose, or an emotional one. They had, both of them, had a small part in the program that the Alchemists had undertaken to develop the potion that made the inhabitors. That killed whoever drank it, and replaced them with something else. Something that wore their old life like a mask. Something meant to be the perfect infiltration unit. The inhabitors didn¡¯t see it that way. They saw their lives as violations, and none of them were especially keen on being used as anything. The Order didn¡¯t really know what they¡¯d want to do with them anyway; it wasn¡¯t like they had a pressing need for assassins, and the inhabitors weren¡¯t that much more dangerous than a baseline human to begin with. So they lived around the Lair, many of them having moved into the newly built apartments now that those were better set up, and¡­ just sort of lived. Sometimes participated, but didn¡¯t really do much on their own. And the Alchemists¡­ well, they weren¡¯t prisoners, really. But they were basically here to learn how to behave like members of a society that both had magic, and didn¡¯t suck, and while no explicit threats were ever levied, it was made clear that they would not be allowed to leave if they were going to go back to hurting people. Nile was bitter about it, especially losing all his money. Red didn¡¯t care as long as she got to do more actual alchemy, and with the Order producing more and more of the sap they used, she was thrilled. But should there be a meeting set up between them and the inhabitors? That was the question James set out to answer that morning. Were they just looking to renew their old research? Curious about what had happened at the end? Looking for reconciliation with Colorado, their old colleague that was one of the people an inhabitors had destroyed and replaced? Just looking to apologize? The answer was somewhere in the middle of all of those. They just wanted to talk. They just wanted to¡­ learn, really. Not altruistic, not selfish. They were just curious. James had talked to the inhabitors, and gotten some mild interest from a few of them, and had set up the meeting. Then he and Zhu had helped Momo clean up her mess, where her and her ¡®apprentices¡¯ had accidentally let loose a small infestation of factals in the basement. Momo said they were trying to train them to eat Youtube ads. James told her to get better containment, and try again until that worked. Then the engineer thing, which was still happening. ¡°Guys, I¡¯m on the way to a thing.¡± James said as Mars and Chevoy cornered him in a basement hallway. They weren¡¯t the only ones there, they¡¯d hired a bunch of help from people they¡¯d gone to school with, or knew from the internet, a sentence James would have found worrying if he weren¡¯t the kind of person who had several close friends that he¡¯d only ever talked to online and only knew by their screen names. ¡°Can you make this quick? Wait, is this the space elevator thing? Please do not explain that to me, I don¡¯t understand, and I can¡¯t wrap my brain around it.¡± ¡°No no no no. Well, I mean¡­¡± Mars tilted his head toward Chevoy. ¡°We could ask about funding for¡­¡± ¡°No!¡± She barked out, folding her arms. ¡°Stay on task!¡± Chevoy swatted down Mars¡¯ tangent. ¡°James, we have something important we need to tell you about the skulljacks.¡± ¡°I swear to Rufus, if you tell me about the memory issues on a forced loss of connection, I¡¯m going to throw you into the sea.¡± James deadpanned. Chevoy shook her head slowly. ¡°No, you should have been told about that. No, we need to talk about the emotional bleed.¡± James nodded. ¡°Yeah, what about it?¡± ¡°You¡­ know about it?¡± One of the new guys asked. ¡°We thought we¡¯d discovered it.¡± ¡°I know a lot of things. Though I appreciate you telling me, just in case I-¡° Chevoy cut him off. ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand. Our tests with .mem files for even basic stuff, pure academic knowledge without haptic or motor data, still show a marked change in certain attitudes outside of the field being shared.¡± She eyed James ¡°You know about this?¡± The words were somewhat accusatory. ¡°Chevoy, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a massive reason to streamline the creation and use of .mem files. You get that, right?¡± James asked slowly. The engineers shared an awkward look, before Mars cleared his throat. ¡°¡­Why?¡± He asked. ¡°Because we want to live in a world where power is paired with responsibility.¡± James answered, leaning against the concrete wall and trying not to fidget nervously as he answered. ¡°Because the fact that we can replicate knowledge is secondary to the fact that we can make gaining that knowledge something that pushes a person to be kinder, gentler, and more empathic.¡± ¡°You want them to be mind control.¡± Someone said. James barked a laugh. ¡°Hardly. But I want each .mem to share two things. The knowledge, and the maturity to use that knowledge. Maturity is something that can be learned, after all. So yeah, thanks for letting me know. If you can find a way to make files that are just emotional resonance, that¡¯d be cool too. But also¡­ well, find a way to check them, I guess? We want to verify, before we let anything out into the world, that we aren¡¯t going to poison people¡¯s minds with secret hatreds or whatever.¡± ¡°¡­we can do that.¡± Chevoy said, setting a hand over Mars¡¯s mouth before he could say anything. ¡°Do you want us to figure out how to make mind control, too?¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± James said. ¡°Though if you can find a way to break any hypothetical brainwashing in advance, that¡¯d be nice to have in reserve. Now, I actually really have to go. I¡¯m late for a pleasant country drive.¡± ¡°Alright boss. We¡¯ll get on that.¡± Mars knocked Chevoy¡¯s hand away with an exasperate grunt. ¡°Also you can teleport, you¡¯re not late for anything.¡± ¡°Wait, the teleporting is re-?¡± Was the last thing James heard from one of the newer people before he blinked out of the basement hallway. _____ The engine of the old Crown Vic made for a low humming background noise that drowned everything else, but only a little bit. The tires on the road, the whoosh of the air conditioning, the engine rumble, all of it created a panoply of sound that meant talking had to be done a little louder, and words sometimes got lost. Well, that, and the ear protection they all had in, in case they needed to go loud with their guns. Overhead, the twin suns of Route Horizon hung like orbs of molten iron. Orange and shimmering, the heat from their light baked the endless winding desert road. Every few minutes, there was a rattling bump as James failed to dodge a speed bump, and behind their line of three cars, a small school of the moving asphalt lumps chased after them with a lazy flow. James was driving one of the cars they¡¯d bought for nothing and healed back with the miracle gas, an old police interceptor vehicle that still smelled like burning leather on the inside. It was just him and Alanna in the front, and they were rotating who drove every time they stopped. So far, they¡¯d stopped once, and it had been to wait for El¡¯s car to regenerate after a quadruped that was basically just four legs and a body made of the folded street signs of its legs had leapt in front of her car and cratered her hood. They¡¯d passed gas stations, parking structures, and rest stops. Driven on past the solitary billboards in the distant sand. James had loved the one that just read ¡°Rock Thoughts¡±. Like most media in dungeons, it appeared totally random, but he and Alanna got lost in the fiction of it. What was it advertising? Was it a band, maybe? What kind of music did they play? It couldn¡¯t be rock. Probably some kind of new wave rhythmic chanting. One car up, El¡¯s customized cherry red convertible led their pack by about a quarter mile. She had a few passengers; the delve team she¡¯d been coming in here with every month or so ever since rejoining the Order and everything had settled. No one had new magic yet, except for more Velocity storage, but her car had been retrofitted with a passenger side door that repositioned you into the seat if you touched it while trying to get in, a hubcap that made the wheels nearly invincible, and a spark plug that made the headlights something like three times as bright but only for the driver. James wanted that spark plug. And then to copy it and put it in every car he ever had to drive past at night. Behind them, Mark and his wife Marcy followed in a box truck. If you¡¯d told James that the husband and wife would have been enthralled by the call of adventure after their first dungeon delve together, he probably would have believed you, but it still surprised him to see it happen. Their young daughters had become a more common sight around the Lair, and they were both adorable and utter terrors. For now, they were bringing along extra cargo capacity. Because while the cars James and El were driving were nimble and swift, they didn¡¯t really have trunk space. And right now, they were headed to somewhere they would hopefully need to make use of that trunk space. Route Horizon was odd. Its roads and buildings shifted and moved around a lot. But, they¡¯d discovered, it wasn¡¯t some kind of abstract or metaphysical process. The roads physically moved around a lot. And that meant that, once they realized how it was happening and that there was a pattern to it, navigating was actually possible. Even more possible with navigators as a species and not just a role in the party. And there were several; Zhu was having a grand time, an orange spear of light flowing alongside their car, with two of his brethren from the vehicle up ahead. El had originally had a way to sort of find her way, even as things moved. And it technically worked, but it only worked because how the dungeon rearranged itself was a pattern. It was an endurance test, as anyone who had ever driven a long road trip would tell you, but it was also a puzzle box, waiting to be solved. Kirk, one of the Horisonists who were still with the Order as part of their ongoing program of restorative justice had been the one to spot the farm. It was a handful of weathered wood buildings amid a patch of fenced off dirt amid the sand, with tall grasses and vegetation no one could identify at a distance surrounding in. A number of drivable paths led through and around it, but they¡¯d have to cross the desert itself to get there. James was almost positive it was a trap. But he was still excited. And also bored. It was a long drive, and there wasn¡¯t exactly a lot to do while you were driving inside a dungeon. ¡°Question for ya.¡± He asked Alanna, his girlfriend rolling her head to look at him from where she had been carefully watching out the window and the second mirror they¡¯d put up on her side of the car. Alanna gave him a long hum as she turned her eyes on James, and he quirked a smile at her antics. ¡°Do you think people are gonna end up worshiping the dungeons?¡± Alanna gave him a silent stare for a minute, before pointing out the windshield at the car in front of them without turning her body. ¡°Literally right there are people who used to, and I think still do literally worship the dungeon, James.¡± ¡°I mean, more ¡®worship¡¯ like religions.¡± James said, before self-correcting. ¡°Okay, yeah, I¡¯m aware that it¡¯s somewhat religious to them, fine!¡± He tried to escape Alanna¡¯s disbelieving glare. ¡°But like, I think Annette¡¯s still catholic or something? But also, you know what I¡¯m getting at, you butt. I mean, I wonder if this lifestyle is going to, over the course of generations, lead to a canon and mythos for the dungeons that presents itself in the form of ritual, and in- and out-groups.¡± James rolled his eyes as he double checked his speed and eased off a bit to make sure he didn¡¯t close in on the lead car. ¡°Is that better?¡± Alanna nodded, shifting back to her sentry watch out the window and adjusting the shoulder strap of her rifle. She normally didn¡¯t fit in cars in a comfortable way; they just weren¡¯t built for people over a certain height, much less people over a certain height wearing body armor. But this one had leg room for her, and she loved it. ¡°Much better.¡± She said as she got herself situated. ¡°Also, I dunno! Might be a problem, long term. Should we talk to the Horizonists about it?¡± ¡°I kinda wanna talk to Kirk, at least yeah.¡± James drummed his gloved fingers on the wheel. ¡°He¡¯s the most¡­ ¡®devout¡¯, I guess you could say. If we actually wanted to influence this whole thing, now would be the time to do it.¡± ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± Alanna cleared her throat. ¡°To be clear on this, do you want more dungeon religion, or less dungeon religion?¡± She asked him. Awkwardly clicking his tongue, James shot a side glance her way. ¡°I mean, I kinda just want less religion in general. I feel like it¡¯s gotten in the way of me being immortal, so I feel personally offended by its continued existing power structure.¡± He admitted. ¡°But that includes dungeon cults? Using the old term for ¡®cult¡¯, like, the cults to various gods. Also, did I tell you that when I was out with Max doing recruitment a day or two ago, we got yelled at by a group of parents accusing us of tempting their children to Satan? It was fucking hilarious and also upon reflection absolutely depressing and gross.¡± ¡°Ah, getting back to your high school roots. Both in terms of the antitheism and the getting yelled at by parents.¡± Alanna said in a joking tone. ¡°I remember you being angry a lot. A very righteous and aggressively atheist teenager. Not,¡± she added, ¡°that I have a moral high ground here.¡± She trailed off with a tone that drifted from amused to kind of melancholy as she remembered just how bad her own high school life had been. ¡°Totally fair. I wasn¡¯t a very happy person.¡± James sighed. ¡°I like to think I¡¯ve gotten better about it. But my point stands; despite not wanting to be a jerk about it, I don¡¯t like religions, and I don¡¯t think I particularly want any that are backed up by literal magic.¡± There was a brief pause, and then Alanna asked a question she¡¯d sort of had for a while. ¡°Is this just where religions came from?¡± She asked. ¡°Dungeon magic as miracles, or whatever? Delvers as demigods, all our old monsters just mob spawns?¡± ¡°It is really tempting to say yes to that.¡± James chuckled. ¡°But I kinda suspect that cannot possibly be true? Like, it just doesn¡¯t make sense, on a timeline level. We¡¯ve been doing this for a few years, and we¡¯ve got multiple different species living outside the dungeons with us, not to mention that we¡¯ve seen attacks from dungeons before outside their territory. There¡¯s just no way that they could have been around for thousands of years and nothing weird leaked out. At the very least, there¡¯d be some kind of miracle medicine or bizarre material science or weird species that accidentally got a stable population on Earth, right?¡± ¡°Insulin, ferrofluid, platypus.¡± Alanna answered instantly. ¡°Wow, you just had that ready to go, huh?¡± ¡°Oh yeah!¡± She nodded. ¡°Also, there¡¯s something glinting in the desert to our right.¡± ¡°We¡¯re taking the next left fork, it should be fine. Radio the others though.¡± James said, and waited while Alanna did so. ¡°But yeah,¡± he said after she finished and confirmed they were going to veer off in a few minutes; he could see a rocky cliff coming up that would probably split the road in two, ¡°I feel actually really awkward about this, because I want to just say ¡®fuck it, none of this in my utopia¡¯, but also I know for a lot of people their faith and belief are deeply important? I just kind of hate how it seems to do a lot of work to form divisions and power blocs that make life worse.¡± ¡°I think if you asked most believers of any religion, they¡¯d probably say they don¡¯t like that either.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°And I just realized that¡¯s part of your point, isn¡¯t it?¡± She hummed as James nodded vigorously. ¡°Right, because if they actually didn¡¯t like that, and actually were a majority, they could just¡­ stop it. It¡¯s the cop thing all over again. God dammit.¡± His partner tilted back and hammered the back of her head on the seat a few times. ¡°Do you ever wonder if it¡¯s not worth trying to save the world?¡± James shrugged, trying to keep it light. ¡°Sure, but I¡¯m committed to the bit.¡± He said. ¡°Besides, a lot of the potential harm actually goes back to one of the core problems with everything, which is poverty. Remember the guy back in school who ki¡­¡± his throat closed involuntarily. ¡°Fuck. The guy who killed himself in the parking lot? Because his parents reacted badly to his sexuality? That sort of thing isn¡¯t from one bad event. It¡¯s a pileup; he lost his family, sure, but then he was facing homelessness, shame, social ostracization, and a dozen other things all at once. What I want to do is build a world where no one¡¯s parents ever pull that shit. But if we can¡¯t, we can at least work toward the other stuff.¡± ¡°So, your point,¡± Alanna slowly asked, ¡°is that we should make things better as a safety net against people being unforgivably cockbags to their kids?¡± James snapped off a nod. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± She agreed. ¡°I like that. I¡¯m thinking of running for city council somewhere soon, mind if I use that as a campaign slogan?¡± ¡°What, like, as a hobby?¡± He asked, letting out an ¡®oof¡¯ as the Crown Vic¡¯s suspension was put to the test as they ran over a speed bump that had shot out behind El¡¯s car. ¡°Like you don¡¯t have enough to do right now?¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I dunno!¡± She said, taking her turn with James¡¯ favorite phrase as of late. ¡°What am I supposed to do? I¡¯m smarter than I¡¯ve ever been, it¡¯s time to start-¡° Whatever she was saying was cut off as their radio came to life with a crisp click and the compressed sound of Kirk¡¯s voice. ¡°Contact front! Up high!¡± He sounded worried. But then, James had noticed, Kirk always sounded worried in here. According to the possibly-ex-cultist, it was because his spell to secure a safe journey didn¡¯t work right in the dungeon. James leaned forward so he could look upward through the windshield. The road did split ahead, maybe a couple miles up now, and the massive triangular formation of red rock that cut through the sands and divided the artificial highway stretched up high enough that he was almost looking into the sun to see the top of it. But there on its side, something silver that glinted in the sun¡¯s rays was rapidly hurtling down the cliff toward the wide and winding road. ¡°Shit.¡± He muttered. ¡°I see it. We¡¯re falling back, Mark, take mid.¡± He ordered the truck behind them before passing the radio to Alanna and gripping the wheel tightly as he pulled to the side of the road and started dropping their speed, letting the box truck start to gain on them. ¡°This is new.¡± Alanna said, trying to get a good look through a pair of binoculars. ¡°I count six. Kirk?¡± ¡°Kirk¡¯s busy.¡± The voice of a camraconda came back. Sunrise-In-Clouds making for a powerful addition to the normal exploration team here. ¡°We also count six. Wheeled things, smaller than us, closing fast, El says hostile. We are accelerating.¡± The last word was strained, even through the radio, and James watched as El¡¯s car shot away from them, her magic pushing them beyond what a vehicle and driver could reasonably handle safely in an attempt to flub the incoming ambush. The truck had just passed them when they flew past the rock outcrop, the right side of the road that had been empty desert suddenly taken up by a wall of stone that offered both cover, and one fewer escape route option if needed. James glanced at their speed, and winced; that old box truck was going under ninety, and that was a problem. Because here in the Route Horizon, there was one big rule for surviving contact with most of the native life forms: speed was your best defense, and your best weapon. The things here were fast, and a lot of them had some kind of projectile weaponry, but they weren¡¯t computer guided aimbots. The faster you were going, the easier it was to simply not be hit. Also, a lot of them had even more dangerous attacks they could use when they had a target trapped or pinned, so slowing down was a horrible idea. It meant you could get dragged to a position where the monster could do basically anything it wanted, and you didn¡¯t have much of a defense. Meanwhile, if you were fast enough, and maneuvering well, you could force an engagement on your own terms. And for a group like the Order of Endless Rooms, where their delve teams had gunners and camracondas, that edge was a massive force multiplier. Route Horizon was incredibly dangerous. But for them, it was a place they could both cut loose, and really actually test themselves. Maybe a little cliche, but to James, it was a different flavor of exhilaration from his delves into the Office or the Sewer. ¡°Zhu! Line up a shot!¡± James called to his navigator as he dropped back by a few MPH to behind the truck. Next to his window, the orange lance of the informorph pulsed once, then wordlessly split in his vision into a web of lines that quickly crumbled away or snapped off until only a few were left. He picked one, and followed it, edging the wheel to the right just as the first of the creatures started to hit the road in front of them. They had chrome domes for bodies, with crystal bulbs that glinted with internal lights as they spun down off of the cliff. Eight feet across, with some kind of metal mechanical system around the edge of the domes, they had one massive wheel on their underside that kicked up plumes of stray sand and dirt as they touched down and shot off in pursuit of El¡¯s car. Well, some of them did. Two of them, swerving back and forth in a helix pattern, drew up alongside the truck. And with where he¡¯d put their car, James got a good look at them as the mechanisms around their edge unfolded into a set of eight multi jointed legs, just as chrome as the rest of them. Then the one that was on their side locked its legs into position, and started running with them. Well, not exactly running, James realized as a spray of asphalt scattered across his windshield. They were slapping the ground, and adding to their speed with enough force to tear divots in the road. Keeping up with the truck, and using the legs to maneuver themselves closer. Over the radio, Marcy was yelling something about spiders. James didn¡¯t hear it, as Alanna kicked her door open, locked it into the gunner position they¡¯d built into the car, steadied her foot on the unfolded platform barely a foot over the road that was screaming by under them at ninety miles an hour, and started taking shots at the spider in front of them. The sounds of the explosive gunshots roaring alongside the rush of wind moving past the car, and underlined by copper tings with every pull of the trigger. She was in the perfect position for clean shots, thanks to where Zhu had guided them. And after the first few bullets hit and sent shards of broken chrome and crystal scattering into the road, Alanna stopped making ranging shots and started using bursts of fire to herd the spider thing off the truck before she hit the wheel enough that it more or less exploded in a spray of rubber and the creature¡¯s body tumbled into the rocks. James realized he was grinding his teeth, and tried to relax his jaw. One down, but one more on the other side. ¡°Maneuvering!¡± He yelled to Alanna, and gave her a second to drop her rifle to its sling and grab hold of the car before he pulled the wheel, crossing three empty lanes in a couple seconds to put them on the other side of the truck. Where the other creature had gotten some kind of grip on the front cab with two of its legs. The other legs weren¡¯t bothering to propel it anymore, they just bobbed lazily in the air while the wheeled form stole momentum from the large vehicle. It was absolutely trying to rip its way in to get at the driver, though. And Mark was seemingly uninterested in letting it; James saw the driver¡¯s side door slam open repeatedly, Mark¡¯s boot visible as he kicked the creature back. It loosened it enough that the chrome arachnid swung away for a small moment, and Alanna decided to start shooting in that window. Then James heard her swear as she fumbled a reload and one of her magazines vanished behind them at high speed, just as the spider dropped its grip on the truck, and spun back toward their car. At these speeds, it didn¡¯t even have to accelerate toward them, just barely slow down and let James get closer in the blink of an eye. But he was forewarned from his navigator on where to dodge, and his reflexes were well beyond human at this point. James whipped the car to the right, choosing the direction that would push Alanna into the vehicle if she lost her grip. Then steadied out, eased a little more speed out of the car with an airy roar of the engine, and pulled a loop around the front of the spider that was working to regain speed with rapid explosive steps. He put ten feet of distance between them and gave Alanna a clear broadside on the creature. And after correcting for their speed, she emptied her magazine into it, chunks of semi-metal material joined by sprays of liquid as her bullets punched through the dome and the spider toppled to the road in a splay of limbs, vanishing behind them rapidly. Then his partner swung herself back into the car. ¡°Two down!¡± She called into the radio. ¡°Took you long enough!¡± Someone said back as James brought them up next to the truck and Alanna exchanged a thumbs up with Mark. He glanced over and winced as he noticed a couple jagged holes in the side of the truck. They were already healing from the magical gas in the tank, but those were a good reason to keep distance from these spider things in the future. Their vehicles slid back into their convoy position, James smirking as they passed by the tangled wrecks of the other spiders. If speed was a weapon here, a camraconda that could freeze you directly in front of your buddy was a tactical nuke. Technically, it wasn¡¯t really freezing; the would have had enough momentum that a camraconda would have only slowed them down. But when things lined up, that was enough. And El and Kirk had gotten really good at lining stuff up for their teammate. ¡°Do we wanna loot those things?¡± James asked. ¡°They could have navigator seeds.¡± ¡°No stopping in spider territory!¡± Marcy¡¯s voice chastised him over the radio. El added onto that. ¡°Yeah dude, this is a bad spot to turn around. I¡¯m out of velocity, too.¡± It felt bad to just kill the things and leave them behind, but James agreed; no point surviving a fight just to get stuck in a bad position trying to profit off it. Also, that cliff next to them could have a lot more of these things lurking on it, so he agreed that they should keep their momentum up. ¡°I dunno man!¡± Alanna said after she flicked her safety back on, confirmed they were in the clear, and dropped back into the car, shutting the door with a hand that vibrated from adrenaline. ¡°I¡¯m seeing a compelling reason to worship the chrome spider death machine factory!¡± ¡°Oh fuck off.¡± James burst out laughing, and Alanna joined in, the two of them dropping into a companionable quiet as they steadied their nerves after the fight. Compared to that, the rest of the drive to the farm was practically placid. Which, James figured, was how most long road trips were, really. Long stretches of boring punctuated by brief moments where everything was trying to kill you. Normally, those parts were called ¡®cities¡¯, but here it was more literal. They made it to a seemingly indistinct stretch of desert road, and everyone took the chance to stretch their legs or coils as Mark dragged a few big pieces of plywood out of the back of the truck and laid them down as a makeshift bridge over the trench of spiked metal that tended to line the roads in this dungeon. Personally, James amused himself trying to figure out if the plant growing just off to the side of where they¡¯d stopped that looked like a skeletal network of green spurs was actually just mundane sagebrush, or if the dungeon had made it. It was tricky; he wasn¡¯t a botanist. Yet. He also noticed that, separate from everyone else, Kirk had stepped away and was silently staring out to the horizon of the road while the others had some kind of excited conversation. James rose from his crouch next to the plant, dusted his hands off on his armored panda, and stepped over to the other man. ¡°Hey.¡± He greeted Kirk simply. ¡°Oh. Hi.¡± Kirk nodded at James. He was fidgeting with a cigarette in his fingers, but it was unlit. ¡°We ready to go?¡± ¡°Almost. What¡¯cha up to?¡± James asked. ¡°Eh. Kinda wondering if the magical addiction removal wasn¡¯t a secret curse.¡± He said, tucking the cigarette behind his ear. ¡°Kinda miss these things, and now they taste like shit.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t sell yourself short. They always tasted like shit.¡± James grinned briefly as Kirk snorted a laugh. ¡°We have an addiction cure?¡± Kirk gave a shrug. ¡°Sorta. I finally got to do my first Winter¡¯s Climb trip a couple weeks ago, and I picked the book for that.¡± James scrunched up his face at the incomplete answer. But he vaguely remembered seeing a delve report that said they¡¯d gotten a biology textbook from there that gave a spell for this. Maybe. ¡°Wait, is this the one that replaces the addiction with needing more water?¡± ¡°Yup!¡± Kirk nodded. ¡°Now I¡¯m thirsty all the time and I can¡¯t enjoy smoking! I¡¯m a tragic figure, me.¡± Shaking his head and huffing out a laugh, James glanced over at the mid-forties ex-cultist. Well, maybe ex. He sighed, and shook his head with a tiny motion. ¡°So, how¡¯s this place been treating you?¡± He asked. Kirk was back to staring off toward the horizon, the dual suns overhead slowly cooking both of them if not for the liberal pre-delve application of sunscreen. ¡°Fantastic.¡± He said simply. ¡°There¡¯s just so much here to see. And even with the place waking up, it¡¯s a wild ride to be here.¡± ¡°Waking up, as in, becoming more active?¡± James asked. ¡°Yeah, though I think it¡¯s kinda literal. I¡¯ve read all the stuff about the dungeons that you guys know. That we know, I guess. This one¡¯s the most talkative, by a mile. I¡¯m just hoping to be here when it decides to open up and talk to us.¡± Kirk smirked as he saw James¡¯ expression. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± He added. ¡°Still basically in the cult mindset, right?¡± The man gave an apologetic shrug. ¡°Seems weird that you¡¯re not. That anyone isn¡¯t. These are special places, my man. I don¡¯t get how anyone can be here and not feel that connection.¡± James pursed his lips and tilted his head. ¡°Well, I can agree with that.¡± He admitted. ¡°Can I be straight with you on something?¡± He asked. ¡°You have at least three boyfriends.¡± Kirk said with a snide tone. And then froze. ¡°Sorry, I just realized that might be over the line. Been hanging out with Momo too much.¡± ¡°It happens. And you¡¯re also only technically wrong. Anyway, don¡¯t worry about it. Because what I¡¯m worried about is if the reverence for the dungeons, and the Route in particular, is¡­ well, is it gonna be a problem?¡± He turned and faced Kirk directly, the other man not meeting his eyes. ¡°I mean, long term. Because the last time¡­¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± Kirk sighed, a depressed noise that dragged on for a while. ¡°I know, okay? The old man¡­ was a fucking monster. A billion times worse than anything in here that just happens to be shaped like a spider, right? And you don¡¯t want a repeat of that.¡± It wasn¡¯t exactly what James was getting at, but it was close enough. ¡°Nah. We won¡¯t be a problem. I¡¯m not reforming the faith, I¡¯m just in love with this place. Since I¡¯m stealing bad ideas from Momo today, ¡®spiritual, not religious¡¯. Is that¡­ will that be okay?¡± He asked, like he was worried James was going to strand him here or something. James gave an uncertain shrug, but when he started talking, he found the words he was looking for easily. ¡°Dude, you¡¯re talking about a personal philosophy based on appreciation for the world and love of discovery. That was never gonna be a problem.¡± He smiled in earnest and tapped Kirk¡¯s shoulder with a gloved fist. ¡°You¡¯re fine. Now come on, Mark¡¯s been done for a while and everyone¡¯s waiting on us.¡± The next twenty minutes were far, far worse of an experience than a mildly awkward conversation. As their convoy carefully shifted over the spike pit ditches and onto the sand, the quality of the journey took a sharp downward turn. ¡°Iiiii haaaaattteeee thissssss.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice rumbled along with the vibrations as they cut across the rocky dirt, their cars jerking and shaking with every bump. ¡°You think this is bad?¡± James said with wild grin as he twitched the wheel to take them around a tire-sized hole El had just driven through. ¡°El¡¯s car has no suspension. We got so lucky with the police car. We should get more of these, this is great.¡± Alanna shared this factoid over radio, and James spent the next ten minutes of the drive laughing boisterously as Mark started inventing new swear words that his wife was okay with him using to describe the truck they were in. Eventually, though, they reached the farm. El and James split their cars and skirted the outside and its thin wire fence, until they found a gap that led in. There was something off about the fence that no one wanted to test right now. So instead, they drove over a dirt trail through a cornfield that was far bumpier than the open desert. Their passengers were on high alert, but nothing jumped them through the withered brown and yellow stalks of corn, the crop having baked under the eternal day of this place. Same thing when they got to the farmhouse. James and Alanna went first, guns up and checking each other¡¯s blind spots in a practiced series of fluid motions. The old door, scraped white paint peeling off, had opened to let them into a simple two story building that was either truly empty of life, or had some very dedicated mimics in it. Dust covered the furniture, cabinets sat empty with doors hanging on broken hinges, sinks dripped with regular spurts of brown water that pooled in their basins. The building wasn¡¯t derelict or falling apart, but it certainly felt like this was a place that no one had been in for a long, long time. The barn was mostly the same, except for the tractor that had been split into a thousand pieces, each of them pinned against the far wall like a dissected frog. Faded green and yellow paint mixed with oiled internal components, gears, chains, belts, and electronics, all of it splayed out like an angry god had dismissively slapped a vehicle that had offended them. ¡°Alright, so. Kirk had said when they¡¯d cleared the barn and taken time to approach the scene. ¡°I feel like your litmus test should be, if someone wants to worship at that altar¡­¡± he pointed to the slab of dull grey metal sitting at the foot of the display. ¡°Then you should worry about whether or not it¡¯s a problem. Because that¡¯s fucking creepy.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not creepy, it¡¯s a Part!¡± El¡¯s grin was wide and wild as she inched forward. ¡°You guys sure there¡¯s nothing here? This whole place is empty?¡± ¡°Not that we could find. And the life here isn¡¯t exactly stealthy.¡± Alanna shrugged. Sunrise-In-Clouds gave a bobbing nod. ¡°Yes. But I will sit back here and watch just in case.¡± ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna touch it.¡± El said. James held his breath, but nothing happened when she poked it. And then took the time to read the etched words on the altar, that detailed what the part was, and how it worked. An odometer that gave the car an extra twenty percent fuel efficiency. Nothing world-shattering, but still, something neat. ¡°Why is this place here?¡± Mark had asked as they had all collectively scoured the farmhouse. ¡°It¡¯s just an empty building in the middle of nowhere? Why build this?¡± ¡°Ah, the eternal question about why dungeons do anything.¡± James nodded appreciatively as he found a half-burned folded road map in a kitchen drawer. ¡°Short answer? We have no idea. Longer answer¡­ well, we have a pretty solid theory with a little confirmation that dungeons actually have to provide challenges to people. The nature of what counts as a challenge seems a little flexible, but¡­ well¡­ we had to get here, right? That¡¯s kinda tricky. But it¡¯s not ¡®fight for your life¡¯ tricky.¡± He stopped and leaned on the counter in a plume of dust, turning to face Mark. ¡°So, like, maybe it¡¯s easy enough for the dungeon to build places like this, and it gives it a liiiiiiittle of its bizarre metaphysical nutrient supply, without it having to spawn new creatures or rewards all the time? Like, it just sits here basically photosynthesising? I¡¯m not actually telling you this is the answer, I¡¯m guessing here.¡± Mark grunted as he yanked a stuck cabinet open with a spray of splinters. ¡°We need some experts for this. No offense.¡± ¡°Mild offense taken!¡± James held a hand to his chest. ¡°I¡¯m the closest thing to a dungeon expert we¡¯ve seen!¡± ¡°Yeah, and you¡¯re guessing. We should hire actual scientists.¡± Mark said. ¡°What kind of scientists do wildlife analysis?¡± ¡°Zoologists?¡± James raised his eyebrows, unsure of his own answer. ¡°I¡¯ll google it when we get out.¡± They continued their thorough sweep of the farm¡¯s buildings, Alanna and Sunrise sitting outside, both with their guns cradled like they expected something to happen at any second. The tension ebbed and flowed; they¡¯d get used to the barn being empty, and then something would creak or some dust would fall and everyone would be on edge for the next few minutes until it was quiet again. But at no point did anything lunge out for their throats By the time they¡¯d plucked everything they could find that looked even remotely useful out of the place, they¡¯d gotten a kind of sad loot haul for the time it took to get here. A half dozen scraps of maps, a couple of them larger than a square foot in area but none of them matching each other. A half full gas can that could not possibly still be good, but might be, if it was magic gas in some way. An equally half full bottle of something that was probably moonshine. And that, along with the magical car part, was it. ¡°You didn¡¯t need us here for you kids at all.¡± Marcy had said as they¡¯d gotten back in the cars, looking with mock disapproval at James and El. And he found he didn¡¯t really have a counterpoint to that; this had been kind of a bust. ¡°I¡¯m gonna head home and sleep after this.¡± He¡¯d told Alanna as she drove them back, miles of dungeon road vanishing under their wheels as they took the hour long drive toward the entrance to mundane Earth. ¡°What¡¯re you up to later?¡± ¡°A nap sounds good, yeah. But you might have just cursed yourself.¡± ¡°Why¡¯zat?¡± ¡°Literally every time you say you want to rest, something comes up. You couldn¡¯t even go to the beach without having to solve eight different interpersonal problems.¡± ¡°¡­I like solving interpersonal problems.¡± James grumbled. ¡°No one shoots at me over¡­ almost no one shoots at me over-¡° Alanna cut him off with a bellow of laughter. ¡°Alright, alright!¡± She said taking one hand off the wheel to pat him on the leg. ¡°Just remember that I warned you!¡± And then, of course, her warning bore fruit. An hour and a half later, as they parked their cars in the Townton base of operations, James got a phone call from Nate. He¡¯d actually gotten several calls, but it turned out, dungeons didn¡¯t have cell service, and this was the first one he¡¯d answered. Yes, Nate admitted, they were backing off on the New York thing. Yes, the rogue division wasn¡¯t pushing leads or getting into dangerous situations anymore. But, all that aside, he had an address, and as long as James had some free time, maybe they could check it out with overwhelming force instead of just getting another rogue arrested. James looked over at Alanna as he hung up. ¡°I¡¯m mad at you for this. I wasn¡¯t cursed until you said it.¡± He lied. His girlfriend gave him a waggle of her eyebrows. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m up for it if you are. We¡¯ve been sitting down for hours, let¡¯s go get into trouble.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the opposite of what Nate wants.¡± James said. ¡°Nate doesn¡¯t get what he wants.¡± Alanna told him. ¡°Nate wanted to inform on us to the FBI. Now Nate gets paid a quarter million dollars a year to be a chef.¡± ¡°Is that actually what we pay him? Shit, we¡¯re gonna go bankrupt.¡± ¡°¡­you really need to read the things Karen puts on your desk.¡± Was the last thing Alanna said before James waved a rapid goodbye to El and yanked the telepad page. _____ When they got back to the Lair, James found Nate in the above ground back room that was part refurbished warehouse, part public meeting room, part briefing and planning area, and part maker space. James, in his head, just called it the briefing warehouse, and he saw no reason to change that as he entered to find Nate nodding to something that was being relayed to him from the solid green shape of an authority hovering just over his shoulder. In a technical sense, Nate was exactly the same guy James had seen running a barbeque on the beach a few days ago. But gone was the gruff satisfaction of handing out food and poking at a grill in a way James was certain didn¡¯t do anything, the apron and black cloth skullcap. In place of that man was someone who radiated a feeling of stilled danger, who stood over a table covered in the blueprints of an apartment building, staring at them like he could burn a hole in reality just by glaring at it hard enough. ¡°¡­just walked in. Any changes?¡± Nate was saying as James approached. Alanna had split off from him when they¡¯d gotten back, and Zhu was napping inside his heart, so for now it was just him that nodded at Nate, and then to Sarah, Alex, and a guy he¡¯d never seen before who were also present, while Nate kept talking. A half dozen other people were hanging nearby, seated at desks or tables but not doing anything except attentively watching the central operation. ¡°Alright. Hold position there, and we¡¯ll send you a problem.¡± He looked up at James. ¡°Good, you¡¯re here.¡± ¡°Ah, hang on!¡± James grinned as he folded his arms. ¡°Am I the problem? Is that how-¡° ¡°Yes.¡± Nate cut him off, and James faltered as his casual banter was cut off by rapid no-nonsense professionalism. ¡°I¡¯ll make this quick. We¡¯ve been investigating the situation in New York, against your express orders.¡± There was a slight pause. ¡°Yeah, I know?¡± James looked around. ¡°Did anyone think I¡¯d be upset about this? I didn¡¯t give orders, holy shit Nate. I just said we should take it from a different angle.¡± There was actually a whole lot that James wanted to say here. He¡¯d been thinking a lot about the responsibility to solve problems, and the relative visibility of problems on a global scale. About how the Order¡¯s access to teleportation meant that they were far less limited than a lot of other people, but paradoxically, they were going to see more problems they could solve, and that he was terrified they¡¯d stretch themselves far too thin before they were ready. About how it really did feel like there was a difference between issues that were background noise, issues that were distant, and those problems that did manage to wander their way to directly in the Order¡¯s line of sight. ¡°Good.¡± Nate nodded simply, cutting off any chance James had to talk about this. He shot a glance at Sarah, who gave him a knowing smile and a silent promise that she¡¯d listen to him ramble later. ¡°We¡¯ve located what we think is an active bolt hole for our killers. Or, if not them, someone with similar antimemetic ability. We have two rogues on stakeout right now, but we¡¯re not going in yet.¡± ¡°¡­because you want to make this a problem for someone.¡± James said, catching on. ¡°And that¡¯s where you come in.¡± Nate confirmed with a smile that didn¡¯t touch his eyes. ¡°And also why Sarah and the others are here.¡± He passed James an earpiece while Sarah tapped the book she had on the table with a cover like a shifting dark starfield. ¡°I want you to go kick in the door, and turn the trap on whoever shows up.¡± ¡°And when I get shot at¡­¡± James was only asking as a formality. He¡¯d been shot at enough that it was almost becoming normal for him, and wasn¡¯t that terrifying. Nate slid a plastic bin across to James, with a series of shield bracers in it. ¡°All charged, all set for different calibers.¡± James started pulling out the copper and bone accessories and finding places for them on his arms. He was already wearing one under his armor, and it took a little effort to get another three on in a way that was even close to ¡®comfortable¡¯. ¡°Is it possible to trigger these separately?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah, but don¡¯t.¡± Alex answered him. ¡°It takes a lot of focus. So only switch if you need to, because once you do you¡¯re probably switching all of them.¡± She gave James an appraising look, eying his delver armor before looking around and finding a coat to toss him. ¡°Here, be a little less conspicuous until the problem starts.¡± Nate passed him a mostly-used-up telepad and a cell phone. ¡°Address is ready to go. There¡¯s a wifi hotspot on here so you can connect with your skulljack, and the Order spooky shit email has a half dozen swords and guns in it that you can download if you need. Drink this,¡± he handed James a labeled exercise potion, ¡°so you¡¯re fresh. Alex and her team are your backup, if this escalates. The building is mostly empty, and we¡¯ll have rogues watching the approaches, so don¡¯t be afraid to make a mess. You ready?¡± ¡°Fuck, gimmie a second!¡± James almost laughed as he downed the potion and felt the soothing sensation flow through his limbs. Especially his sore legs. ¡°Okay. Wifi, shields, empty building.¡± James took a deep breath, and realized that he might not be ready. He might actually be super nervous. His heart was hammering against his chest, his hands shaking lightly. He double checked his gear, clenching his hands into fists to try to bleed off some of the nerves as he figured out how to get the P90 he still had slung across his front to sit partly concealed by the coat Alex had given him. It had snuck up on him. This wasn¡¯t a sudden struggle for survival; this was something else. This was walking into a dangerous situation on purpose. And James was pretty sure he¡¯d flinch at every loud noise during it. But then he remembered that the people they were after were closer to monsters than half the things in the dungeons. ¡°Give him a second.¡± Sarah was saying as James closed his eyes and nodded to himself. Then he opened his eyes again. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m good. Let¡¯s go mess up someone¡¯s day.¡± He reached out and tore a page, and a few seconds later to those watching, he was gone. Somewhere else. Then they established a connection, and got audio and visual through James¡¯ skulljack and phone. Nate went back to talking to the other rogues on site, and Alex went to check up on the follow-up team. And Sarah just watched the screen they¡¯d set up. Trying not to let anyone see the gnawing fear in her own heart. _____ When James appeared in the lobby of the apartment building, he wasn¡¯t actually prepared for the environment. In his mind, ¡®apartment building¡¯ meant a two or three story structure with outside access to each of the units inside. It was pretty uncommon, around his hometown, to see buildings that were much taller than that, or that had internal doors. This one was much larger. Though Nate had told him the floor, so he wasn¡¯t too surprised that the elevator¡¯s readout showed the building as having fourteen floors. Two whole walls of the lobby were taken up by fake-brass mail slots, and a potted plant that was dying despite being fake sat near the window to the outside street. The windows had a couple spots that were covered with duct tape, and the tile floor was cracked and scuffed to hell and back. It smelled like mildew and decay, and James hated it. He also refused to take the elevator, so he started on the stairs, walking at a calm pace as he answered the incoming call from Nate, and started streaming his ocular feed. He was in no hurry. He also got looped in on the call with the other two rogues nearby, and had to bite back an angry comment when he learned that one of them was Lin. That girl had too many broken bones to be back in the field after only a few days. Of course, the Order did have a cure for broken bones, in the form of a couple different purple orbs. But still, he¡¯d rather she just take a fucking break. The layout of the building made it self more or less known when James took the time to walk one of the floors. The elevator was part of a central column, with three other studio apartments packed around it, one door facing each direction. And then, larger units on the outside, with stairwells on two sides of the building. It wasn¡¯t a perfect square, and there were actually two hallways down the middle, with a second clump of studio apartments forming a second ¡®middle area¡¯. Maintenance closets and trash chutes dotted the halls as well. He didn¡¯t pass anyone as he checked the layout, before he went back to the stairwell and climbed the last few floors. ¡°What¡¯s up with how empty this place is?¡± James asked as he opened the door to the stairs, old grime wiping off the handle and onto his glove. ¡°Is this wizard shit?¡± ¡°Probably not.¡± Ben¡¯s voice came through their connection. ¡°This place got bought by a different management company, that applied for it to be low income housing, which ironically priced out a lot of the residents. We talked to someone at the company, and read their emails, and they¡¯re basically waiting for the leases to run out before they bulldoze the place and sell the land. It¡¯s an insurance thing. Probably illegal.¡± Lin jumped in. ¡°We think it¡¯s getting used because it¡¯s empty, not empty because it¡¯s getting used.¡± She clarified. ¡°There¡¯s a couple other assholes using it too. We¡¯ll fill you in later.¡± ¡°Yeah, good call.¡± James said, stopping outside floor seven and taking a deep breath as he set a hand on the door. ¡°I¡¯m here. Going onto the floor now. Anyone come in after me?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± He said, and reached out. And then paused. The bar to the door here had a clear mark in the middle where the dirt and dust had been rubbed away. ¡°Did either of you come in here?¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Lin¡¯s voice had a rough note in it. ¡°Not after last time.¡± Well that didn¡¯t bode well. James took a breath of the unpleasant air in the stairwell, the cold concrete somehow not adding much to the flavor, and pushed the door open. The apartment they were going for, the one that didn¡¯t appear on any records, was on the west side of the building. He¡¯d taken the east side stairwell, which had required getting directions from someone who could actually navigate, so James had a little distance to cover. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet on the old wooden floors, hoping the buzzing of the lights overhead would drown them out. He moved forward to the corner of the building, and took another moment to collect himself before peeking around it. No people, and no door to an apartment on the outside wall either. ¡°Now hang on¡­¡± he muttered. ¡°There¡¯s a door there.¡± Sarah¡¯s voice spoke in his earpiece. ¡°We¡¯re having trouble seeing it, but it¡¯s there. So confirm that whatever they¡¯ve got, it works on records and senses, that¡¯s cool. You should be able to see it if you get right up close.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a fan.¡± James muttered. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m gonna-¡° He stopped talking instantly, and pulled back around the corner, as a noise sounded in the quiet hall. The sound of a metal latch clicking open, as the stairwell door on this side of the building was pushed open. He tried not to hold his breath as he listened to footsteps - heavy footsteps - thump out into the hallway, before receding from him by a short distance. James tried to relax and loosen up his muscles, just in case he¡¯d need to move quickly soon, while he kept his ears open. A few seconds later, he heard a vaguely feminine voice make a grunt of exasperation, before he started hearing tapping on wood. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± Nate hissed over the open call. ¡°Anyone?¡± ¡°No one went in!¡± Ben¡¯s voice insisted frantically. ¡°I fucking swear, no one went in!¡± James nodded to himself. That left two options. Someone who was already here, or someone who had entered the same way he had. Or helicopter, maybe, but he figured Ben would have mentioned helicopter. He tried to put some thought into the situation. They were tapping the wall, and moving down the hallway; they were looking for the same thing as him. If this was a trap, it wasn¡¯t a very good one when the single person you sent to spring the trap couldn¡¯t find the right apartment. He made a choice, and stepped out around the corner. The woman who was tapping at the wall didn¡¯t notice him right away, she was busy rapping a gauntleted knuckle on the wall every two steps as she paced down the hall, and was about halfway to where the door should be. She had dirty blonde hair in a kind of short spiky style around her head, bright eyes sunken back in a face with more than a few scars on it, and dull grey plate mail covering most of her body in a way that made her look like a walking tank. It said something about James¡¯ life that this was familiar. He didn¡¯t untense, but he let a word slip out just out of surprise. ¡°Camille?¡± He asked, confused. The woman¡¯s head snapped around to face him, and James realized he¡¯d made a mistake. The face was the same, the armor was the same - though more intact than he¡¯d last seen it - but this was not the woman he had met and fought alongside. But he had no doubt that this one was also a daughter of the Last Line Of Defense. And also, and this was important, a massive threat to his immedient survival odds. The fact that she looked as confused as him didn¡¯t seem to help much. Especially when her hand dipped to her belt, and she unhooked the three foot long bladed mace that was hanging there. ¡°Oh fu-¡° James¡¯ hand flung his coat wide as he ducked into a crouch and reached for his rifle. In his ear, Sarah started singing, and he felt the connection from the Attic¡¯s magic form between them and the network of others, a half dozen traits pouring into him. He shoved the modifications his purple orbs made to his mind to their utmost, and did his best to let the agility his Sewer lesson gave him do its work properly. And it was barely, barely enough. Not-Camille took three thundering steps toward James, her mace flicking out into her hand in a grip that kept it just inside the narrow walls around them. She covered the thirty feet between them in seconds, and James had only barely gotten his gun up when she was right there and swinging at his head like she was playing tee-ball. He ducked, feeling the mace swing past with force enough to rustle his hair in the breeze, and turned the duck into a forward roll. Working to put some distance between them. The armored woman wasn¡¯t exactly off balance, though, and as James tried to slip past her on the floor, she pivoted and nailed him in the flank with a plated kick. He felt the air rush out of him as he slid away, slamming into the wall opposite the blank space where there should have been an apartment door so hard that dust and a chunk of plaster rained down from the ceiling. That had, James knew, been the closest thing to a glancing blow that she¡¯d be throwing around, and if his bones weren¡¯t supernaturally durable he was positive he¡¯d have lost a few ribs there. They were now well past the line where this could be resolved peacefully. James rolled out away from the wall as the woman strode toward him, brought his bullpup up in the steadiest one handed grip he could, and started unloading on her. He¡¯d come from Route Horizon, so the bullets they were using were the kind that were meant to shred engine blocks. Which made James actually more than a little pissed off when the first half magazine he poured into her ricocheted off her armor and into the walls and floor. He tried to shift his aim up to her exposed face, but a sudden burst of orange light from Zhu was enough warning for him to drop his gun and slap his hands against the floor, pushing himself back as the woman lunged forward faster than she should have been able to, her mace going straight through the old wood of the floor and exposing the insulation and wiring below. James followed the path Zhu set for him, pulling on a lot of balance from his link through Sarah so he could rapidly roll sideways and pop back to his feet. His foot slid back to where he was against the ¡®empty¡¯ wall, and one hand grabbed his hanging rifle and sprayed shots across the hall while he tried to come up with a plan. In his head, he heard Nate yelling a negative at Alex, but it was in the background to Sarah¡¯s soft voice singing to him. The connection method she was borrowing from one of the others in her web of relationships actually helping him focus quite a bit. But he had only a second before the woman was back on him, pressing the attack. She came at him with an uppercut of her weapon that smashed James¡¯ gun so hard it flipped out of his hands and over his back, the strap pulling on him as the rifle slammed back into his body. Then she twisted, armored shoulders moving with intense strength to stop the overwhelming momentum of her swing as she reversed its direction and brought it back down at James¡¯ head. He didn¡¯t just sit there. Instead, he ignored Zhu¡¯s dodge recommendation, and stepped into her personal space. When the woman snarled at him and tried to kick out, James grabbed her leg under one arm, wrapped his hand under her knee, and pirouetted to the side. She could be as strong as she wanted, but leverage waited for no one. And when she slipped slightly off balance, James capitalized on it, planting a hand on her shoulder and pushing into her, asking the people through Sarah for quite a lot of raw strength as he slammed the armored woman into the floor hard enough that it shuddered the building. He also narrowly resisted the urge to yell ¡°Judo!¡± at her as he did so, and felt he should win an award for that alone. She dropped her mace and tried to grab him, the metal clanging to the floor, but James wasn¡¯t interested in having his bones snapped by someone who was that obviously overpowered. Instead, he turned the slam into a roll and not a pin, continuing down the hall away from her. She did manage to grab his arm and wrench it in a way that would have snapped the elbow of a human that couldn¡¯t bend their elbow well past what was natural, but let go when that didn¡¯t seem to have done anything. James sprung back to his feet, ache in his arm already fading, then whipped back around and aimed a kick at the side of her head as she was slower getting off the floor. His foot definitely impacted her skull, but aside from an angry grunt, it didn¡¯t seem to do much, and James danced away back down the hall, hooking her mace with a boot and sending it skidding across the wood behind him. When the kick didn¡¯t seem to work, he mentally flicked open the Order¡¯s emergency email account through his skulljack, opened an attachment for a handgun, felt the object drop awkwardly into his hand, and filled the hallway with a trio of explosive bangs as he tried just shooting her again. It didn¡¯t work, even when he shot her in the unarmored head, which was both disappointing and terrifying. Then she spat out something - literally spat, a kind of dusty smoke flowing from her mouth - and James hopped back as the cloud rapidly formed and stabbed forward. He got mostly out of the way, but it enveloped his hand before it disappeared, taking with it the sleeve of his coat, the bracer plate of his armor, most of the pistol, and a lot of his confidence that he could actually win this fight. He tried to keep breathing, pushing away as best he could the urge from his adrenaline to do something stupid. ¡°Okay. So we¡¯ve both had a minute to¡­¡± James began to say. He barely got a chance to start sassing her as she got back to her feet, mace appearing back in her hand. James resisted the urge to swear as she closed in, but he was at least starting to feel actually confident that she couldn¡¯t kill him. He hadn¡¯t even had to set his shields to ¡®getting hit by a fucking mace, in this, the year twenty twenty two¡¯, and he absolutely could have if he wanted to. Then he had a stupid idea. Pressed himself against a specific part of the wall, and then dodged her next incoming swing at just the right moment. And let her smash through into the room they were both looking for. The door was occluded, sure. But she was putting structural holes in things with that stick of hers, and James was right that an ancient apartment door wasn¡¯t going to stand up to that. Not-Camille¡¯s swing shattered the deadbolt of the door that was now blatantly visible and had been the whole time, a spray of asbestos dust and wood splinters scattering in her wake. And she actually paused, and looked at the door like she was uncertain what to do about this new development. James didn¡¯t pause though. His blood was on fire, and he had no expectation of negotiating with this woman. She had tried not just to kill him, but hit him so hard that it would delete his Facebook account, and he wasn¡¯t going to take her hesitation as anything other than a chance to end the fight. A hand that gripped with the strength of too much adrenaline wrapped around the hilt of his trusty hatchet, yanked it out of its clip against his back as he felt his rifle bounce against his spine, and brought it around in an arc of a swing with every erg of force he could muster. The woman noticed at the last second, getting her arm up between her face and his blade. The axe blade punched into her armor with a screech of tearing metal, and James felt the impact rattle his arm, but he still rapidly yanked it out and made for another strike. She juked to the side, and he corrected, the axe slamming into the haft of her mace as she brought it up. And for a brief window, James put his enemy on the defensive. His swings were empowered by a half dozen sources of force and speed, and he was legitimately annoyed this was working when bullets didn¡¯t, but he didn¡¯t care. He stepped back from their clash, not wanting to waste strength to try to match her. Both of them stood, on either side of the open door. James breathing as calmly as he could manage, the armored woman taking rapid inhalations as they sized each other up. She looked down at her wrist, and the rip in her metal plate armor, and then back up at James. Then she opened her mouth to talk, and he briefly considered shooting her again before she started speaking. ¡°I misjudged.¡± She said, and James froze as he heard Camille¡¯s voice come out of her mouth. ¡°Which pillar¡¯s child are you?¡± ¡°James!¡± Nate¡¯s voice cut into his ear, and he felt a lot of the strength he was getting from Sarah¡¯s connecting song disperse rapidly, leaving him woozy. ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking mouth off to her! Keep her talking!¡± James nodded, swallowing a mouthful of sass as he tried to make it look like he was dropping his murder mode on purpose. ¡°An understandable mistake.¡± He said, trying to channel the inner part of him that secretly wanted to talk like a character in a high fantasy novel all the fucking time. ¡°They are¡­ a private individual.¡± The armored woman made a noise that was almost a laugh, but was slightly too disinterested and cold to really count. ¡°A relatable feeling.¡± She said. James nodded again, trying to give her a sympathetic look that was still a little condescending, building a character as he went. ¡°Well. If we aren¡¯t going to kill each other, perhaps we could see what we came here for?¡± He gestured to the open door, before looking down at a hand still holding a death grip on his hatchet, and trying as hard as possible to be pointedly casual as he returned it to its sheath clip. The woman eyed him for a long moment, before giving a simple nod, replacing her mace at her side. ¡°Agreeable.¡± She said, turning away from him like he was beneath notice, and stepping over the door she¡¯d slammed off its hinges largely by accident a minute earlier. James resisted the urge to say something under his breath, instead just following after her. In his ear, Nate spoke calm directions, which he did his best to focus on. ¡°Sweep the interior slowly, we can look over it later. Telepad out if she gets hostile again. We don¡¯t think this is the trap, just a coincidence. Stay alert.¡± He nodded, wondering with some worry if the woman he was following could hear what was being said to him. He also wondered if this earpiece was magical, since it had stayed in his ear properly when he was being thrown into a wall, and that was pretty damn impressive. The inside of the apartment was unremarkable, except for the door sitting in the entryway. Two doors on either side, a cramped bathroom to the right and an empty bedroom to the left. Wood floors, which made James mark it down in his internal estimation even further. Straight ahead was the kitchen and ¡®living room¡¯, which still felt too small. He kind of got the impression the ceiling here was a little too low. Not by much, but by enough that it got to him. There were a couple windows that would have looked out over the nearby buildings and roads, except they had sheets of brown butcher paper up on them, held in place by strips of blue tape. The kitchen wasn¡¯t entirely empty, the old laminate counter having a coffee machine and a toaster on it, along with a half empty bag of bagels and a stack of paper cups. There was also a wooden table and a few chairs, as well as a stack of banker¡¯s boxes against one wall. So, the place wasn¡¯t fully uninhabited. ¡°Hmm.¡± The woman said, walking over and picking up one of the cups, looking at it like she was seeing into the secrets of the universe. James walked past her, trying to project confidence, and looked around the room like he was here for something specific. ¡°So.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Nice place they¡¯ve got here.¡± ¡°Is it?¡± She asked, with a kind of apathetic curiosity. ¡°Strange. And there is no one here.¡± ¡°I see that.¡± James tried his hardest not to be sarcastic, he really did. ¡°And not much of anything else besides.¡± He stepped over to the cardboard boxes and carefully lifted the lid off the top one. Empty. ¡°Which makes me wonder why we¡¯ve ended up here, at the same time no less.¡± He pointedly asked as he replaced the box lid. The woman glanced over at him with an appraising gaze that flickered across her face in a rapid change from how she looked at the rest of the empty apartment. ¡°Do we need a reason to do our duty, and hunt outside influence?¡± She asked. James snorted. The question was so obviously a test. He didn¡¯t miss that she had easily let slide that he didn¡¯t list his ¡®pillar¡¯, or that she hadn¡¯t followed up on him knowing Camille¡¯s name. He was keeping an eye on her, not ready to get blindsided. But he could maybe get a little more out of her, and fortunately, he knew a couple names he could drop, or at least allude to. ¡°I forgot that your dad¡¯s hardly the last line, the way he goes around swinging at things, huh?¡± He prodded. ¡°My father¡¯s actions are needed.¡± The woman bristled. ¡°Right, which is why you¡¯re preemptively striking at empty rooms, just because they¡¯re slightly secret.¡± James rolled his eyes at her. ¡°Come on.¡± It was almost worrying how little social defense this woman had, compared to how much armor she was wrapped in. Just like her¡­ sister?¡­ James wasn¡¯t sure, but just like Camille had been. She visibly flinched from his words, and seemed to struggle to compose a reply that validated her actions. ¡°The Chain Breaker is plotting once again. Using the actions of others as a smokescreen while she takes action around this accursed city. She is hunting something, and must be stopped.¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± James trailed off. That was a new proper noun mixed in there. It also complicated things. It meant they weren¡¯t just tracking one group, but at least two. It also didn¡¯t explain why the police seemed to be stumbling around all the places of interest, like particularly violent speedbumps. ¡°And you? Why are you here?¡± James glanced up, and noticed that the woman had stepped out from the kitchen counter and was staring at him once again, hand set on the hilt of her mace. He considered lying, considered telling the truth, and then paused as he held up a hand to her and listened to the voice in his ear. ¡°James, did you hear that?¡± Nate said. ¡°There are police entering the building. Might be time to leave.¡± James went over to one of the windows, ignoring the increasing hostility at his back and refusing to answer, and tore down the sheet of paper. Behind it, through the cracked and filthy window pane, he could see down to the street below, and the dots of police cars that stood out parked at haphazard angles. ¡°Huh.¡± He said. ¡°Guess that¡¯s the trap. Any comment on this?¡± He asked the woman who was still looming behind him. ¡°Unaltered officers?¡± She asked, her stride bringing her next to James and the window in a rapid pair of steps to look down at the street. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°More or less my question.¡± He replied. ¡°We should get out of here before they get up-¡° His comment was interrupted by a furious slurred bellow from the door, telling him to drop his weapon, and then the sound of gunshots. One of the shield bracers James was wearing flickered a dome of golden lines of light, several times in a row as shots slammed into the otherwise invisible protection. The woman was already moving by the time James turned, dashing out of the lights like they weren¡¯t even there, closing to the doorway as the thick man in uniform continued to mechanically fire his weapon into her. James started moving too, following after her without really knowing what his plan was aside from trying to extract more answers from her before she inevitably realized he was just performing an impromptu interrogation. Then she slammed her mace down in an abbreviated overhead swing in the cramped hallway, smashing into the cop¡¯s collarbone with a spray of gore and the snapping of bone, the man¡¯s gun clattering to the wooden floor as he folded to the ground. Then she kicked him away, like I he was a piece of rubbish she¡¯d taken offense to, the body spinning out into the hallway to slam into the same wall she¡¯d kicked James into five minutes ago. Blood beginning to pool under the man¡¯s lifeless eyes as he stared up with a shocked expression. ¡°Oh fuck.¡± James heard someone gasp out from his earpiece. And he agreed, feeling nausea creeping up his throat. ¡°Ah.¡± The woman staggered back, one gauntleted hand dragging a furrow through the drywall as she did so. James rushed forward to grab at her arm. ¡°You okay? Thought you were¡­ bullet¡­ proof.¡± He trailed off as he saw the craters punched through the front of her armor, red splatters oozing out of them. ¡°Shit, okay. We need to get you-¡° The ding of the elevator was as loud as a church bell in the otherwise quiet hall. The woman¡¯s gauntlet wrapped around James¡¯ forearm, squeezing hard enough to bring a sharp pain to him. He winced, but didn¡¯t pull back. ¡°Long¡­¡± she grunted out as she tried to speak with bullets in her chest. ¡°This is¡­ betrayal.¡± ¡°Not from me though, so let go.¡± James ordered her sternly. ¡°You want to get out of here?¡± He asked. ¡°Fuck no!¡± Nate¡¯s voice came through loud and clear. The woman gasped a breath. ¡°Yes¡­ help me.¡± She demanded, still arrogant even while she was bleeding. ¡°Then let go of me.¡± James said. And this time, she did. His hand dipped into the pouch on his armor where his emergency telepad was stored. ¡°Alright.¡± He said. And then considered saying a dozen different things. Questions, quips, anything. But instead, he just stepped back and tore the telepad. In the basement of the Lair, James reappeared. Slightly out of breath, with a disconnected phone call from a system that didn¡¯t know how to handle someone covering three thousand miles in the blink of an eye, but otherwise intact. And alone. He sprinted upstairs, and into the briefing warehouse, where the others were still tracking the rogues in the area who were following events on site. A lot of the people, the ones Sarah was linked to, were looking dizzy or exhausted, and James gave all of them an appreciative nod, which many met with small smiles and nods of their own. ¡°Good call.¡± Nate told him with his own affirming nod. And James knew that he was probably right. But still. It didn¡¯t feel good, leaving someone to die like that. Even someone who had legitimately tried to kill him, repeatedly. He felt less bad when Ben told them that the woman had jumped out of the seventh floor of the building, landed on the person she¡¯d carried with her, and limped away at high speed. Chapter 211 ¡°So what? You''re another person, so of course you look different. What do you need to be ashamed for?¡± -Yana Toboso- _____ Debriefing took the rest of James¡¯ night. At some point while he sat in the briefing warehouse going over details, mercifully, someone brought him coffee and ibuprofen. He¡¯d known, from their testing experience, that after he gave back the borrowed power from everyone else, he¡¯d still be sore as hell. But it was one thing to remember it, and another to experience it all over again. It was when he was comparing what he¡¯d seen with one of the observer rogues that Davis had jogged back in from where he¡¯d vanished to early in the meeting and handed James a small glass bottle. He¡¯d gleefully downed the exercise potion, and finally, combined with the painkiller and caffeine, his muscles stopped trying to turn into angry knots. The rogues had stuck around for a while after he¡¯d vanished, and Nate had dispatched a few more besides them. Keeping an eye on the mostly-abandoned apartment building, tailing the police who left, and trying to track down where the woman who wore Camille¡¯s face had gone. None of them were particularly successful; the woman was worrying good at vanishing for someone if full plate armor, the police had just seamlessly faded back into the city on normal routines like nothing had happened, and the building had gone on like nothing had happened. Until two minutes later when a group of passing pedestrians stumbled on the body of the cop on the pavement, and called 911. And then EMTs and police swarmed the site like they had no idea that there had just been thirty officers there not even an hour ago. The rogues gave their reports to Nate, James gave his report to Nate, then everyone had questions. Sarah started making notes on the over abundance of proper nouns they were starting to have to cope with. Those notes, along with printouts of memory images and other documentation, then started getting stuck to one of their giant standing whiteboards with magnets. Then connected with lines of marker, with more notes scribbled around them. By the time James realized they were making a conspiracy board, it was too late, and he was emotionally invested in it. ¡°Okay. Here¡¯s the shape of it!¡± Sarah said, and started pointing to different things with the pen she was wielding like a magic wand. ¡°New York City!¡± A tap of the cap of the pen, then a trailing motion to the next point in the web. ¡°Killings. Not ongoing, as far as we know?¡± She said it with a questioning tone, and got an affirmative nod from Nate. ¡°So they happened, then stopped. But following the trail leads toooooo¡­¡± Tap. ¡°Trap rooms! Which has something to do with both a local gang, and also the NYPD, because they both show up sometimes when we poke our noses in. And this trap leads us to this next part.¡± ¡°The part where someone tried to hit me with a mace.¡± James said, helpfully. ¡°Yes thank you!¡± Sarah brandished her pen at him. ¡°Also, I know Nate told you already, but I wanted to add that even I think it was a good idea not to try to bring her back here. And I¡¯m me.¡± Sarah said. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone who can kill the whole building in the building unless they¡¯re already our friend. Anyway! Time for some proper noun soup! The woman looked like Camille, right?¡± James nodded. ¡°Exactly like her. Like, exactly. Same face, same voice, everything.¡± Sarah nodded and adopted a narrator¡¯s voice. ¡°Camille, first encountered in Townton during the attack there, is the ¡®daughter¡¯ of the Last Line Of Defense. Now, Lloyd is part of a type of individual that we¡¯ve only ever seen a couple of. James, you¡¯ve talked before about The Right Person At The Right Time, who actually gave you a name, and we think that the thing we call the Old Gun is one of those too.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s entirely possible that the Chain Breaker is her.¡± James said. ¡°No confirmation there, but not-Cam did say that name with the same cadence, and ¡®fucking around while people die¡¯ sounds like what the Old Gun was doing around here. And every other time she¡¯s been active.¡± With a grunt of annoyance, Nate spoke up. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna connect those yet. Only confirmed intel on the board for now.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James nodded. ¡°But we¡¯re gonna need to know her epithet eventually. And I¡¯m gonna be optimistic and say there can¡¯t be too many of them wandering around.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be optimistic here.¡± Nate shook his head. ¡°Speaking of being optimistic!¡± Sarah cheerfully drowned any hope of optimism with a smile that was almost manic. ¡°Not-Cam also started to say another name, James. When she was bleeding to apparently-not-death. Remember?¡± ¡°Yeah. She was talking about being betrayed by ¡®Long¡¯. Someone Chinese? Long is a Chinese name, right?¡± James asked. Then the coffee that was helping his brain form lateral connections kicked in. ¡°Wait, no. She cut herself off, didn¡¯t she? She means another one of them.¡± ¡°Pillars.¡± Nate grunted again. ¡°It¡¯s the kind of vague word that could mean a lot. Is that how they refer to a type of person, a rank, or membership in an organization? No way to know. But it¡¯s probably the first or second, and I¡¯m preferencing ¡®type of person¡¯, because it¡¯s simplest. Rank would require an ongoing schism that has been lasting at least since the showdown at Townton, and with what people like Lloyd are throwing around, I doubt it would have lasted very long.¡± James started to raise a hand, opening his mouth to ask a question, when Nate cocked a thick finger at him. ¡°Not their fight, their group. If your schism goes on for more than a month, you don¡¯t keep all calling yourself by the same rank, you split off into new cells or something. Happens all the time with insurgency groups.¡± He clarified. ¡°Oh fuck me.¡± James said suddenly, slapping his forehead. One of the rogues that had been close to dozing off bolted upright in his seat, while Sarah just stared at him with raised eyebrows. James gave an apologetic wave to the guy he¡¯d startled, and met Sarah¡¯s eyes. ¡°Long.¡± He said. ¡°I just got it.¡± She tilted her head at him. ¡°That he¡¯s one of their pillars?¡± ¡°No. Well, yes. But also, no one wants to use the whole epithet every time! We won¡¯t even say Last Line! We just clip it to Lloyd, and we certainly don¡¯t say the ¡®the¡¯ at the start.¡± ¡°Yeah, because it¡¯s a pain.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°Which is what Not-Cam did?¡± ¡°Right! And I¡¯ll bet you a lot of money that she was shortening The Long Arm Of The Law!¡± James said, pointing at the spot on the board that Sarah had left as a blank circle. There were groans from the others in the warehouse. ¡°Oh god dammit!¡± Nate uttered. ¡°Yin already said the cops moved like the ones in Utah! It¡¯s the same fucker! That also explains the theme. Obviously there¡¯s no way to know how, but if these things work like some of the infomorphs do, then something named that is obviously gonna have power over the cops.¡± Sarah turned from where she¡¯d finished writing the name on the board in red lines with the small squeaks of dry erase marker. ¡°So, four ¡®pillars¡¯. Chain Breaker, Long Arm Of The Law, Right Person At The Right Time, and Last Line Of Defense.¡± She paused. ¡°And maybe the Old Gun, whatever her name really is. So two big questions. What are they, and what are they doing killing people in New York?¡± ¡°First off, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re killing people.¡± James said. ¡°Not-Cam was pretty clear that she thought that Chainy is just using it as cover. That doesn¡¯t mean there¡¯s not some nonsense going on.¡± ¡°They clearly think that they¡¯re important.¡± One of the rogues spoke up, and James realized he¡¯d only ever heard Ben¡¯s voice before. Now he paired the name to the face of the late thirties guy with the goatee and shiny bald head. ¡°No one calls themself a ¡®pillar¡¯ because they lack self-esteem.¡± ¡°Oh Christ, one of them is gonna monologue to James about ¡®holding up civilization¡¯ at some point, aren¡¯t they?¡± Nate rolled his eyes. ¡°This must be what Cassandra felt like.¡± James snickered. ¡°I mean, they might - okay, nice Greek myth reference, I appreciate that - they might be more about holding back entropy or something? But yeah, Nate¡¯s probably right. That sounds like something that I should prepare some witty retorts for.¡± ¡°Okay, but what do they do?¡± Sarah reiterated. ¡°Is there any indication they aren¡¯t just really old delvers? I don¡¯t actually remember many details from that time one of them nearly killed me.¡± There was a somewhat awkward silence at that. It didn¡¯t last long, because Nate wasn¡¯t the kind of person who was interested in being awkward. ¡°The only thing we really know, from everything anyone has told me, is that they actually cannot enter dungeons.¡± He said. ¡°The Old Gun bugged out when the Sewer came back, Lloyd wouldn¡¯t go near Townton, the¡­ other one, the one James and Anesh talked to in a dream¡­ in addition to making me sound like a fucking lunatic, also wouldn¡¯t show up except in a dream. Plus the Old Gun was using a proxy to do something with the other dungeon in Texas we never got access to.¡± ¡°The chemical plant, right?¡± Sarah asked, making a list of incidents on the side of the board. ¡°Right. None of us were prepared to fight the Wolfpack over it.¡± Nate nodded. Then he glanced at the door, arms folded. ¡°We should maybe go check on that. Could be a way to open communications with them, if we know a place they¡¯re stationary. Otherwise there¡¯s not much of a way to get them to talk to us, and they didn¡¯t exactly leaves number to call after Utah.¡± ¡°Okay. So, check up on that.¡± James ordered Nate without realizing he was giving an order. ¡°So we know what the pillars can¡¯t do. And we know that the Right Person is¡­ trapped? Or at least asked us for help. Not that we have any way to help, or even know where to start.¡± He rubbed at his temple, taking a deep breath as he split his focus to watch a delve team come into the room. It was weird to remember that while they were trying to figure out how to catch a bunch of assassins, and also deal with the existential threat of whatever the pillars represented, that the Order just¡­ kept going. Other people had their own adventures going on. And James found himself getting slightly distracted with a small smile as he watched the three humans, one camraconda, and one growing paper dragon dump backpacks full of extracted magical wealth onto an open table and shed cold weather gear as they escaped the frigid cold of Winter¡¯s Climb. He refocused on what Sarah was saying, and realized it was more of what they¡¯d been talking about. That they¡¯d reached the part of the conversation where they were going in circles. It was a feeling he¡¯d become familiar with, dealing with this New York thing. They just didn¡¯t know enough. And every attempt to gain information had just lead to a dead end, or a fight. Though that did cause him to think of something suddenly. ¡°Hey.¡± James said suddenly, interrupting Sarah¡¯s conversation loop about the pillars. ¡°Why¡­ why was Not-Cam there?¡± He asked. ¡°Like, she said she was there doing Lloyd-stuff, or whatever. ¡®Outside influence¡¯ is almost certainly dungeon things, knowing how Lloyd talked. But what was she doing there?¡± James emphasized the word. ¡°The cops were the trap. The apartment was basically empty, just cloaked. So¡­ why was she there? What, actually, are the odds that we¡¯d bump into each other?¡± He was specifically thinking of how, when they¡¯d gone to meet an Alchemist in that strip mall in Utah. Of how the old woman who¡¯d been there had referenced what the kids did as something that messed with fate. Was fate real? James lived in a world where a lot of weird things were real. But he wasn¡¯t sure he was prepared to deal with actual fate. Officium Mundi screwing with causality to expedite Amazon orders was one thing - and as one thing it was bad enough, really - but some force that rearranged the universe for narrative convenience legitimately terrified James. It felt like he was perched on the edge of an endless void, staring down at the secret answer that nothing he did mattered. Fate probably wasn¡¯t real, he reasoned. Vampires weren¡¯t real, after all. Just because the dungeons made some weird things didn¡¯t mean every weird thing humans had ever made up was also real. The weirdness they had to deal with was finite, and bounded. But that did still leave the question of why the woman who looked like Camille had been there at the same time he was. ¡°Frequency, probably.¡± Nate answered, unaware of James¡¯ internal turmoil. ¡°She¡¯s not involved in this.¡± James raised an eyebrow. ¡°Also how would she be involved in this?¡± Nate flipped him off with a casual glower. ¡°We¡¯ve been poking these hidden places. She¡¯s been poking these hidden places. There¡¯s only so many of them, and we¡¯re doing it at the same time. So, it¡¯s likely we bump into each other.¡± He spread his hands. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be magic. It¡¯s the same thing as with Townton. The reason we¡¯re always in the place where we can do something is because we can do a lot, and we keep sticking our asses into every random place where trouble might be happening.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± James started to question Nate¡¯s phrasing, but Sarah got to it first. ¡°We don¡¯t stick our asses into things, Nate. Please! There are children present.¡± She admonished him. The chef briefly looked around them. ¡°No there aren¡¯t.¡± Sarah grinned and arched her eyebrows. ¡°Poor James is going to learn all sorts of-¡° ¡°Alright.¡± James slapped his knees and stood up easily. Easily enough that the lack of pains and aches actually startled him. ¡°We¡¯re basically out of anything that I have to add to this.¡± He announced. ¡°Oh, wait, no! Sarah! Make a note on the board that Not-Camille got shot!¡± ¡°Yeah, you shot her repeatedly.¡± Sarah said quietly. ¡°It¡­ didn¡¯t work. But also¡­¡± She trailed off, not looking at James. James felt something in his chest sting, and resolved to talk to Sarah later. But right now, he shook his head. ¡°No, I mean, when the cop shot her, that actually worked. Bracer deflected it, but her magical invincible armor didn¡¯t. Just¡­ I don¡¯t know what it means, but it might be important.¡± ¡°Oh! Okay!¡± The marker squeaked on the whiteboard, and was followed by a tap as Sarah snapped the cap back on. ¡°Anything else?¡± ¡°Nope. I¡¯m basically out of thoughts.¡± James nodded at Nate. ¡°You need anything else from me?¡± ¡°Yes. We do need to contact McHarn, if we¡¯re going to pretend to be working with the bureau.¡± Nate said. ¡°Also, at some point, I would like to know what the bullets he gave us do.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll put JP on the first one. And you should talk to Research about the bullets. See if they have an iLipede for it.¡± James said. ¡°For now, I¡¯m gonna go grab some food and avoid contact with people for a while until I feel less overwhelmed and exhausted.¡± He told them. Nate nodded once then went back to talking to the people he¡¯d had doing various scouting around the area. Sarah nodded a few times, shooting him a thumbs up before she went back to trying to add as many details to their conspiracy board as possible. James went out of the room, taking a breath of the comparatively fresher air of the front lobby of the Lair. Trying to put together how he was going to get his brain to calm down and his muscles to untense. Because yeah, the debriefing had been calm, but he was still coasting on a kind of weird mental state where he felt like he was dodging and parrying, even as he answered normal questions from his friends. The wisdom coffee also helped. And now, he was starting to crash. And the fact that he¡¯d just been in a decidedly one sided fight with a woman who had nearly killed him sort of crashed down. He couldn¡¯t get the image of the man she¡¯d struck down out of his head; one half-assed strike had cratered a human body, and she had not been half-assing her attacks at James. Then she¡¯d fallen from a seventh floor window. And gotten up. And ran away. James found his breath catching and his hands shaking. He clenched his fingers into fists, opening and closing them as he tried to push away the perfectly well earned anxiety. It wasn¡¯t just that he¡¯d watched someone die in a blink. It was just that he¡¯d almost died too. And while that was becoming a familiar feeling, there was something weird about it when it was from a much more deliberate action. It reminded him a little too much of the assault on Status Quo, in terms of how his brain was processing it. And the memory of the aftereffects of that fight still gave him nightmares. ¡°Planner, we¡¯re still¡­ hidden, right?¡± James whispered into the air. The assignment, always present around the Lair, woven into the minds of about fifty different members of the Order, replied almost instantly. A thin noise like a pen on dry paper sounding near James¡¯ shoulder as the infomorph spoke. ¡°Yes. An appointment is needed to find the building. Much of my capacity goes toward that. Though the caveat makes it easier to hold up.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± James murmured softly, and really meant it. ¡°Of course.¡± The scribed voice said, as Planner faded back to wherever their main body was. James exhaled. Pressed his eyes shut. Then nodded to himself, tried to push his shoulders down, then opened his eyes and started moving. Food first. Then some personal time. Then, he was sure, he could figure out the rest tomorrow. _____ The Research department was as chaotic as ever. James passed by two people running through a series of basic magic tests with a bucket full of pens and pencils, ducked under some kind of hopefully-contained high-wind weather event, dodged out of the way as a researcher sprinted past chasing the hyperactive iLipede that had scuttled by on the wall, stopped to pet a shellaxy that had gotten free from it¡¯s pen, briefly paused to answer survey questions from someone writing a report on infomorphs, dodged the same researcher chasing the same iLipede that was now joined by a friend but going the other direction, and told three people that he wasn¡¯t the one in charge of their budget. This happened across about five minutes, and was more or less the gauntlet that he¡¯d gotten used to running every time Reed said he needed to talk to him. James was considering just giving Research, as a department, the whole building that Officium Mundi was in. Technically, their lease on the space had started, but people weren¡¯t really using it for anything yet. Even if it did have more space to work with, there was just something about the Lair that felt comfortable to a lot of the long time members of the Order of Endless Rooms. And it wasn¡¯t just the green orbs they¡¯d stacked up here. It was, for a lot of them, their homes. The first place they¡¯d been after being plucked from the grip of death, the place they¡¯d healed and grown and learned and made friends and built something. They had a new building now. And it even had a dungeon in it, which was truly exciting. But that was a building for a new group of people to learn and grow and build something in. At least, until James pried Research out of the basement they were rapidly outgrowing and transplanted them. ¡°James! Hey!¡± Reed greeted him with an absent tone that made it seem like he¡¯d utterly forgotten that he¡¯d asked James down here in the first place as James knocked on the door to the close that Reed called an office. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± James said, stifling a yawn. He¡¯d had a long day yesterday, had only just woken up, and was already feeling the mental effects of the disruption to his ¡®schedule¡¯. ¡°You look like you forgot you asked me down here.¡± He accused without any fire to the words. ¡°No!¡± Reed protested rapidly. ¡°I remembered!¡± And in a quieter voice he probably didn¡¯t think James could hear, added, ¡°I remembered as soon as you knocked.¡± James just hummed at him, biting his lip to hold back a smirk, as Reed ticked through the sticky notes on a line of black rectangular cases he had on the end of his desk. ¡°Ah, here!¡± He said, pulling out one marked ¡®James¡¯ and handing it to James. ¡°For you, James.¡± He said. ¡°That is my name, for now.¡± James nodded, taking the case. ¡°What do I do with it?¡± ¡°I mean, usually you tell people what it is so they know what to call you in the-¡° ¡°What do I do with the case you dingus.¡± James rolled his eyes, but in a friendly way. He was a bit exasperated, but he was awake enough now that this wasn¡¯t too stressful. He¡¯d gotten some good sleep, and it helped that Sarah had flicked a small nap at him earlier too. ¡°Oh! Open it and use the orb, then tell me what you got.¡± Reed said. ¡°Now, if you¡¯re not too busy.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James snorted and clicked open the hard plastic latches with a resounding snap. Inside, rolled to the bottom corner of the otherwise empty container, a single small yellow orb set. ¡°You know I¡¯ve already got a million of these and have trouble finding uses for them, right?¡± He asked. ¡°What¡¯s this one do?¡± ¡°You tell me.¡± Reed said, glowering at James who was apparently stalling. But then James huffed in amusement and cracked the orb between his fingers. [+1.3 Skill Ranks : Medical - Veterinary - Hedgehog] ¡°Oh, interesting.¡± James said with raised eyebrows. ¡°This was a size one?¡± He asked. ¡°Yep!¡± Reed said. ¡°One skill rank. Why?¡± ¡°Because I got one point three.¡± James said. ¡°So, thirty percent more than normal? You think this is a result of the Library orb for hedgehogs?¡± ¡°Sure do.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve done a few tests, with the orbs, and just normally. It¡¯s really hard to quantify it without the fiat-backed orb numbers, but it works for any learning. It might also work for working with the animals, but that¡¯s even harder to measure, and we haven¡¯t started controlled testing yet.¡± James nodded, pouring over thoughts of hedgehog biology and proper vaccinations and treatments for them as pets. Then he paused, and pushed at a different thought that had crept up on him. The thought of his Akashic Sewer lesson, the ongoing boost he got for learning more about biology. The one he¡¯d gotten up to just before the line of the next upgrade, before he¡¯d cracked an orb that gave him quite a bit of biology knowledge. In a blink, he was somewhere else. A classroom with overturned desks and scarred floors. Broken windows that led to a blasted red sky over an exterior basketball court. Tiny insects scuttled around his feet. At the blackboard, three words sat, and the Teacher screamed at him to make a choice. James picked Endurance again, putting him at the third rank of it. Because it had kept him alive through impossible odds several times, and he saw no reason to switch to something like Toxicity at this point when this was already working more than perfectly. And he was back, hearing the echoes of his syllabus in his head. Lesson Continues : Biology IV (96/4200) James let out a breath, then sucked in air deeper than he had before. His lung capacity just a little larger, his arms a little less sore. He wasn¡¯t enduring right now, so the effects weren¡¯t on full display, but he felt good. ¡°Well that¡¯s handy.¡± He said. ¡°This is also really cool. This means the Library orbs would be a lot safer to give to kids, right? Compared to the Office ones.¡± Reed nodded slowly. ¡°I mean, it seems like it?¡± He leaned forward on his desk, a finger curling his hair in thought. ¡°It doesn¡¯t give you anything except faster learning, and maybe some other perks, so it wouldn¡¯t, like, overwhelm anyone too young. You could probably give it to a baby with no bad results? But that seems like a weird thing to test.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you don¡¯t need me to tell you not to test that. These days, at least.¡± ¡°I¡±m learning!¡± Reed exclaimed, a little defensively. ¡°Anyway. What¡¯re you up to today? I¡¯ve got a shift doing some potion restocking in a half hour or so, if you wanna learn how to do that with me.¡± He looked at James hopefully. The process of harvesting and processing the slightly sticky fruit from the tree was easy. Doing it from the succulents that the Order had started growing - all eighty of them, now - was far less simple, and having a helper would be welcome. James gave a nod from his tilted head, lips pursed. ¡°Yeah, it actually would be cool to learn how to make some of the potions, just in case. I feel like if I¡¯m gonna lean into my role as omnipresent problem solver, I should be adept at as many things as I can. But I¡¯m also going to the nonhuman support group meeting in, like¡­ also half an hour. Answering questions and stuff, talking about the future.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Reed nodded in understanding, then paused. ¡°So, you¡¯ve got half an hour free¡­¡± he trailed off. ¡°You really want help with this, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Pleeeeeease?¡± Reed turned puppy dog eyes on James. There was a long pause while James really thought about how dedicated he was to his role as problem solver. Then he gave a brief sigh. ¡°Alright, but I¡¯m going to the thing, so let¡¯s get going.¡± ¡°Yessss.¡± Reed hopped his desk in an instant, nearly kicking James and moving with an agility that looked out of place on his somewhat chubby frame. He was out the door with a relieved look on his face before James could protest whatever he¡¯d gotten himself into. James just shook his head with a resigned smile, and followed down the halls to where the room full of magical plant pots was. At least he¡¯d learn how to do this part, and Reed seemed happy enough, which did matter to James. Though he wondered what had happened to Reed¡¯s lab coat; the Researcher was just wearing a normal polo shirt today, and it looked out of place on him. _____ The community meeting took place in one of the new apartments. Not every apartment was occupied. Mark and Bill and their growing crew of specialists had done an amazing job of hooking up water and power, and everyone who moved in had gotten a budget of ¡®whatever, basically¡¯ in order to furnish their spaces. A lot of Response members, especially the ones who were either trying to get away from their families, or who had lost families to begin with, had taken the offer of free rent. A lot of Recovery also lived here now. And a chunk of the complex apartments were of course occupied by the growing population of camracondas and ratroaches as well. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The apartment they were in now wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s in particular. It was a community space, which had basically been set aside for this exact get together, and also for some of the kids who were around the Lair to hang out and play video games in without having to get too close to whatever existential threat the Research basement was up to that day. There were several couches in the living room, and a richly textured coffee table in the middle of them. A few cloth tapestries on the walls, and the smell of flavored smoke from the candles on the kitchen counter. The space was large enough for quite a few people, which was good, because even though the meetings weren¡¯t always large, there was always someone who was exploring them for the first time. Enough that the support group was considering a second meeting at some point, so they didn¡¯t start to overflow the room and talk over each other. But for now, the new apartment was large enough, and comfortable, and afterward James could challenge people to games of Super Smash Bros with the console that the kids used. James was helping set up, right now. There were a few camracondas on one of the couches, a ratroach sitting with her back to the corner of the room, another ratroach helping him move an armchair into position, one of the potion people - an inhabitor, James reminded himself - setting a bowl of pretzels on the table, and a knock at the door as more people trickled in. And eventually, they sat down to just¡­ talk. That¡¯s all this meeting was. Something small, but so important. The nonhumans who had no context always had questions about the world, all of them, James included, had questions about their place in things, and all of them also had personal experiences to share that the group was well suited to empathizing with. ¡°I learned this week,¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said, ¡°that the ¡®Christ¡¯ that some people thank sometimes, is a person, and not an object.¡± On the couch, sitting between Smoke, who had been coaxed out of the corner and was currently pressed into the new corner of the couch, Bea, who was stoically staring straight ahead of herself, and Rufus, who had taken up a position on the back of the sofa right next to James¡¯ head, James tensed up at the mention of religion, and wondered if he could somehow sink into the couch cushions before anyone asked him a question about it. Rufus jabbed him in the back of the head with a pen leg. Not too hard, but enough to remind him that he wasn¡¯t allowed to run away from uncomfortable questions. ¡°What kind of object did you think a christ was?¡± Arrush asked from one of the other couches. It was the kind of line that James would have said with a laugh in his voice; not mocking, but playful at least. The big ratroach said it entirely earnestly, with mild curiosity as he peered with his mismatched eyes at the camraconda across the room from him. Texture-Of-Barkdust gave a hissing hum of considered thought. ¡°I had not speculated. A tool of some kind, perhaps? A good luck charm?¡± She turned her head to silently look at Smoke as the new ratroach held up her white board, with the word ¡°Food¡± written on it in block letters. ¡°Yes, food would also work. Or a food source! Renewable food would be a suitable miracle to thank.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust nodded at Smoke, who fractionally untensed as she gave an agreeing twitch of a claw toward the camraconda. Renewable food, to a ratroach, would be beyond magic. The ones that were new from the Akashic Sewer often broke down crying when they learned that they didn¡¯t have to wait to eat, or worry about their next meal. ¡°So¡­¡± James started to say slowly, ¡°technically, you¡¯re not far off? Okay, I should explain something really quick.¡± ¡°You say that every time, and your explanations are often rambling tangents that are not at all quick.¡± Scent-Of-Rain accused him. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll try to explain quick.¡± James smiled at her. ¡°So, humans have been doing the religion thing for a long time. Is anyone here not familiar with religion, as a concept?¡± Everyone indicated that they were at least up to date on that, in some way. ¡°Okay. So, I¡¯m not religious. Despite the fact that I often slip their terminology into my language. So when I talk about this kind of thing, I¡¯m approaching it as, like, mythology, and not history. And that can actually come across as really offensive to people who do legitimately believe in it.¡± ¡°Which is it?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked abruptly. ¡°¡­between myth or history?¡± James asked, and the camraconda gave a bobbing nod. ¡°Uh¡­ well, that depends on if you¡¯re asking a believer or not. Historically, it seems like someone named Christ, or something like it, did exist at one point, and wrote some philosophy texts. But the other parts of the myth, like, for example, the part where he duplicated food,¡± James nodded at Smoke as he said that part, ¡°don¡¯t fit with what we know about reality.¡± ¡°You duplicate food on a regular basis.¡± Bea said, the inhabitor having fully dropped the mask of humanity that the potion people sometimes wore when they were around too many new faces. She spoke with a voice that wasn¡¯t empty, exactly, but it was the wrong tone for the body she was wearing, and it didn¡¯t vibrate with the warmth of a real human voice. ¡°How do you know the historical figure did not have a similar power?¡± ¡°Which is a good point, yeah.¡± James nodded. ¡°There¡¯s a big ongoing debate, that I think a few of you might have been caught up in, to assign dungeon magic effects to all the myths of human legends. Dragons? We see dragons all the time. Heroes? We have a building full of them. What¡¯s a miracle or two here or there?¡± He shrugged. ¡°But that can also feel really reductive. It dismisses the creative agency of a lot of storytellers, by assuming that there¡¯s no such thing as fiction. Also, it makes a massive assumption about the validity of things from sources we can¡¯t verify and shouldn¡¯t trust.¡± ¡°So, the religious believe things they cannot verify, and everyone else does not?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°They would be offended if you said it that way, but yes.¡± James said. ¡°And I am, honestly, trying to not be a jerk to people who believe things, as long as those things aren¡¯t causing problems.¡± ¡°We have a question.¡± Watcher-Of-Motion spoke up from where he was conferring with his two other camraconda friends. James indicated that he should go ahead, and the camraconda hissed politely at him. ¡°What is the benefit of belief in a specific myth?¡± ¡°Like, a religion?¡± James asked for clarification. ¡°Well, generally, people use it as a kind of source of emotional and spiritual fulfillment, I think. Like, the stories and songs are meaningful to them, and they like the community. For people who are having trouble, I think it¡¯s a source of direction in their lives? Again, I am not religious, so I can¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°The last owner of this body was raised religious.¡± Bea said, the inhabitor moving forward with mechanical precision, taking a pretzel, and balancing it on her finger as she sat back. ¡°She did not find it to be that way. There are many, many unhappy thoughts about her religion as a form of oppression.¡± ¡°Yeah, and this is why I¡¯m trying not to talk about it in solid terms.¡± James said, tapping his nose before pointing at the potion girl. ¡°Because the experience is not positive for a lot of people, and religious attitudes and power structures do hurt a loooot of people. But actually talking about them that way causes pushback from the faithful that is unconstructive, and so I try to be as polite as possible. Even if, personally, I would agree with you.¡± ¡°I also have experience with faith.¡± Arrush whispered. On the couch next to James, Smoke snapped her eyes over to the larger ratroach as he spoke, and from the big armchair, Banana curled in on herself as her functional eye also silently tracked Arrush¡¯s movements. ¡°Didn¡¯t think of it as the same as religion, but¡­¡± he shrugged with some of his arms, mimicking James¡¯ favorite gesture. ¡°We were told¡­ often told¡­ that causing pain was holy. That our god loved it when we killed. That being hated was a sign of¡­ of¡­¡± He trailed off, and James felt an overwhelming urge to go hug the big guy. Small tears were forming in the ratroach¡¯s many eyes, but he blinked them back as his clawed paws formed into tense fists. Next to him on the couch, Carlos, the other inhabitor in the room, gave a rapid set of angular nods. ¡°I understand.¡± He said in the same empty voice that didn¡¯t really make use of the body he was in. ¡°Not being told what to do, but being told what I am. We have had to take it on faith, that we can be something else.¡± Bea nodded once at him. ¡°Maybe that is what it is. Reflection of the unfounded belief that we can be better.¡± ¡°I can be better, though.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said with a hissing intake of air. The camraconda swung her body around to point her snout at Arrush. ¡°You didn¡¯t need someone else to tell you that you were doing better, did you?¡± ¡°¡­No?¡± The big ratroach hissed, some of his paws clenched tightly around his arms. Texture-Of-Barkdust nodded, and James joined her as he saw where she was going with this. ¡°Yes. You see? It is easy to miss why some people have a need to believe, when we already have faith. Ours simply looks different, because it is in ourselves.¡± ¡°And each other, really.¡± James added quietly, the one human voice in the room standing out. ¡°I know I¡¯m supposed to just be here to answer questions¡­¡± ¡°No one cares. Speak.¡± Scent-Of-Rain said with a laughing hiss. James snorted and made a face at her, but did actually feel some of his worry fade away. ¡°I just¡­ I know how it feels to not know what you¡¯re doing, and not really believe in yourself, but to have friends around that you¡¯re willing to do better for. I don¡¯t really believe in myself that much, but I¡¯ve got people who I care about who I can do better for. And yeah, it does feel fulfilling, and I think Texture¡¯s right. I can easily see why someone without that would search for a way to fill that gap, and I don¡¯t even mean that in a rude way. Just that it seems perfectly alive to want to try.¡± A soft quiet fell over the room, before Arrush looked up at James with mostly cleared eyes. ¡°Thank you.¡± The tan furred ratroach whispered, wiping the sleeve of his sacrificial hoodie on the corners of his eyes. Then they spent ten minutes patiently trying to decipher the motions of Rufus, who claimed the coffee table to sign to them a story about how he was once part of a group that tried to kill a god, and James realized that he maybe didn¡¯t know as much about Rufus as he thought. Either that or Rufus was just a very good storyteller. As every got comfortable, or at least, as comfortable as the newer Sewer life forms could be, there was an awkward moment where Arrush got James¡¯ attention to ask a question, but then withered slightly as everyone turned to look at him. ¡°Take your time!¡± James offered, grabbing a cashew out of a bowl in the center of the table. ¡°None of us are in a hur- none of us except Texture-Of-Barkdust are in a hurry.¡± Arrush nodded, and took a deep breath, emulating a behavior he¡¯d often seen from James. ¡°I am curious.¡± He said. ¡°Maybe¡­ maybe someone knows. I have been having some trouble with the smaller humans¡­¡± ¡°Ah. The small ones that ask for rides?¡± Watcher-Of-Motion asked. ¡°I understand. They are heavier than they think.¡± ¡°Nnnnnnno. No?¡± Arrush tilted his triangular head, antenna dancing against his fur at the quick motion. ¡°They do not ask me for rides¡­¡± ¡°They would, if you were around. They will ask anyone, I think.¡± The camraconda mused. ¡°¡­But you did mean them, did you?¡± ¡°No.¡± Arrush confirmed. ¡°I meant¡­ the older ones. The ones who survived their school being attacked by the place that made me.¡± He made a tiny gesture toward Smoke and Banana, the wasp girl flinching backward into her chair at the gesture. ¡°Made us. But these humans. They are cruel. Nothing, nothing, like what I¡­ what we¡­ they are not bad. But they say things that hurt, and do small things that hurt. And two of them have apologized and are trying to be better, but¡­ but¡­¡± Rufus hopped off the coffee table and onto Arrush¡¯s lap, the stapler butting his head against the ratroach¡¯s chest, while next to him, the inhabitor actually looked uncertain as he reached out a hand and gently set in on Arrush¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You¡­ okay?¡± Banana asked in a tiny, cracked, buzz of a voice, even the girl who was terrified of Arrush looking at him sympathetically. ¡°No.¡± He said, but he sighed again and continued. ¡°None of that is important. I wanted to ask why. Why are some of the humans, especially the younger ones¡­ bad? Why are they¡­ why are they¡­?¡± ¡°Why are humans assholes?¡± James asked, finishing his sentence. Arrush nodded. ¡°Ugh.¡± James grunted, but found a small smile as Arrush started idly petting Rufus. ¡°That¡¯s sorta tough to answer, but I do actually sorta know already. Okay, so, look around the room.¡± He swept an arm at them. ¡°Camracondas. Trapped for years and slowly dying. Inhabitors. On the run from their creators, paranoid for their whole lives about being found. Ratroaches and¡­ Banana.¡± The girl perked up at her name. ¡°Forced to hurt others to survive. Everyone here has¡­ yes, Rufus, you too. Okay, Rufus; apparently attempted diacide, and also lost a lot of friends doing it. So everyone here has been through some kind of horrible trauma. And¡­ it changes you. Changes us. Trauma like that can make you afraid, make you lash out, make you angry without understanding why. Does that sound familiar?¡± ¡°I froze Nate in place several times when he brought me food.¡± Watcher-Of-Motion admitted in a low-volume tone, the camraconda shrinking back into the couch. ¡°We still do not often¡­ talk to others.¡± Bea said, voice still empty and stilted, but with a rhythmic pause in the middle of her words. Smoke held up her whiteboard, the words ¡®tried to bite someone¡¯ written on it in shaky letters. Her body language tensed like she was prepared to run out of the room if anyone reacted. James just nodded, understanding. ¡°And then what?¡± No one answered, they just looked around, at him and each other. ¡°Did anything happen? Like, anything bad?¡± Slowly, Arrush shook his head. ¡°When I¡­ when I made mistakes. In the dead city. They would talk to me, or give me space, or¡­ or¡­ there was always someone. Somehow.¡± He looked at James. ¡°Do you know JP?¡± ¡°He¡¯s one of my friends from before ¡®all this¡¯.¡± James motioned around his head with an open hand. ¡°And yeah, he¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s kinder than he lets on. And this is what I¡¯m getting at.¡± James tapped the coffee table. ¡°Everyone is shaped by our personal trauma. But we can also be shaped by how we heal. You know why there aren¡¯t any camracondas who are real assholes? It¡¯s this. It¡¯s because we¡¯re here to have a place where everyone can confront and cope with their hurts, without being afraid, or angry, or hurt worse. And¡­ and those kids haven¡¯t had that.¡± James sighed, deeply. ¡°They¡¯ve been human their whole lives. Normal human kids in the normal human United States. They¡¯ve got ten to twenty years of experience with a culture that punishes them for hurting, even if that¡¯s not how we actually talk about it and no one will admit that¡¯s true. You all have one to three years of experience in a culture that¡¯s focused on being better than that.¡± ¡°I like this culture.¡± Scent-Of-Rain muttered from the couch. ¡°There is a strange disconnect between what the old owner of this body would have felt, and what I, now, think.¡± Bea said, staring at the back of her hand, occasionally flipping her hand over with a snap of motion. ¡°That she would have said you were fools. But she is not here, and I am, and I cannot argue that you are wrong when I¡­ feel otherwise?¡± Her voice changed, shifting from empty monotone to a warble with her last two words. Nothing much, but a hint of something different as she looked up at James with a blank face. He shrugged, smiling at her before turning back to Arrush. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s why some humans are assholes. And why a lot of the people around the Order are less so than outside of it. Not that there aren¡¯t amazing people across the world, but we¡¯re specifically building a place to let that attitude flourish, so I¡¯m hoping we¡¯ll have a higher concentration of kindness around here.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Arrush nodded raptly at James, then flinched a tiny bit when James met his eyes and he realized he was staring, looking away quickly. ¡°Understanding is also easier, when you can¡­ connect directly.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± James nodded. ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve been meaning to ask! Is there anyone who doesn¡¯t have a skulljack, but would like one? I know all of you have them,¡± he shot a nod to the camracondas, ¡°but, like, Smoke, if you¡¯re having trouble speaking, it can be a good option if you don¡¯t want to¡­ oh.¡± He gave a sad frown at the big X she¡¯d drawn on her white board. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s alright too.¡± He said. ¡°Honestly, we have more than enough capability to support anyone who needs extra help. Like, we don¡¯t have a minimum capability to participate or anything. I just thought I¡¯d ask.¡± ¡°You are always asking how you can help us.¡± Scent-Of-Rain said. ¡°It is very kind. But also you are allowed to worry less.¡± ¡°He won¡¯t.¡± Arrush said, face stretching into a fanged visage that he sheepishly covered when his smile seemed to make the other ratroach shrink back into her corner of the couch. Arrush continued, his humor somewhat stifled, but still trying. ¡°I know. Worrying is comfortable.¡± ¡°Ouch! But also correct. But also ouch.¡± James said. ¡°Anyway, I wanted to loop back to the earlier point. That we have fewer people who lash out here, just because our approach is intentionally designed to let everyone recover from their traumas, and learn to be better, without being afraid. And, like, I¡¯m actually glad you brought this up, because it¡¯s not something we can just assume people will keep doing without it being pointed out?¡± He shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re all active participants in our little subculture here, it¡¯s important you know that you can help keep it doing what it¡¯s doing.¡± The inhabitors shared minute glances with each other, before focusing on James again. ¡°We do not participate.¡± Bea said for them. ¡°We are simply present.¡± ¡°And yet, here you are.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said with a flick of her tail. ¡°Accepted. And allowed to join when you are comfortable. Which is better than how outside humans have been acting.¡± She gave an irritated hiss. ¡°Did¡­ did you want to talk about¡­¡± James started, apprehensively eying the other camracondas who had buried their heads in the couch cushions as soon as Texture-Of-Barkdust said that. But it wasn¡¯t the camraconda who cut him off, but Banana The wasp girl leaned forward, her wings cracking open around her back as she opened her beak while she talked, even if she was using the skulljack and digital speaker to form words. ¡°Yes!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°Outside humans are strange! They stare, and their blankets are too heavy, and, and¡­¡± She cut off speaking as everyone looked at her curiously, freezing up as she was noticed. ¡°Oooooh, when Deb took you to the hospital to get an X-ray!¡± James tilted his head back as he made the connection. ¡°Yeah, the lead coats are weird. I¡¯m sorry if they weren¡¯t polite, though.¡± Banana tilted her head sideways in a gesture James didn¡¯t quite know. ¡°One gave me a candy. Deb would not let me eat it.¡± She was still learning how to put emotion into the digital voice of hers, but James was certain that emotion was ¡®disappointed¡¯. ¡°Deb would not let us eat candy for some time, either.¡± Arrush said, in the softest voice he could manage. He looked¡­ James didn¡¯t really know how to describe it. He looked like he was both hopeful and terrified at the same time. James followed Arrush¡¯s line of sight over to Banana, who was listening to the ratroach¡¯s words carefully, her sharp gaze relaxing ever so slightly as he talked. Then suddenly, it clicked in his head. It reminded him of how he¡¯d felt as a teenager, when he¡¯d wanted to be the cool older brother, and his sister had just hated him. Even getting Banana into the same room as Arrush and Smoke had been hard, and the three of them were still perched far apart from each other. But he was trying, so hard, to show that he wasn¡¯t going to hurt them, and it broke James¡¯ heart to realize it. Someone said something to him, and he snapped out of his thoughts with a ¡°Hm?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust was leaning toward him, saying something, and James focused on her words. ¡°-why there is a focus on humanity in the business sector? Manufacturing, really.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh.¡± James collected his thoughts. ¡°Like, when you¡¯re trying to set up supply line deals with people, why are they asking you questions about your voice or appearance and not, like, shipping things?¡± ¡°Yes exactly.¡± The camraconda said. James pressed his hands together, tapping his fingertips on his nose. ¡°Lemmie ask you something. When your people, the group of camracondas in that tower, were there; did you think you were the only intelligent life around?¡± ¡°No.¡± Watcher-Of-Motion said. ¡°Skitterers set traps, the walkers speak, there are others who must think somehow.¡± ¡°Right. Well, humans don¡¯t¡­ have that? Not really.¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m probably explaining this badly, in that I¡¯m probably wrong about something. But I think that it¡¯s mostly because humans have grown up on a planet with only humans that can think and talk. When Barkdust shows up and casually tries to act like this is normal - which it should be, don¡¯t get me wrong - a lot of people are going to be contending with the utter upending of their worldview and might be too distracted to sign a contract.¡± ¡°Well, they should be better at business.¡± The surly camraconda muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t disagree. But also, maybe try some followup calls? Maybe they¡¯ll be better with time to process it.¡± James suggested. ¡°Also, I¡¯m legitimately surprised no one has tried to go to the press or something with ¡®aliens offered to sell me platinum¡¯, now that I¡¯m thinking about this more.¡± ¡°I am not an alien.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust seemed even more irate as she hissed at James. ¡°Well yeah, but they don¡¯t know that.¡± He gave a snort of laughter. ¡°I think the thing that¡¯s gonna take some people more time to get used to is the fact that you¡¯re all from Earth. You have a claim to this world, just like us. Don¡¯t ever let anyone tell you this place isn¡¯t your home, okay?¡± He looked around at the group. ¡°Even if we are dangerous?¡± Bea asked, voice back to the monotone with only a tiny hint of curiosity. ¡°Especially then. I know this has come up before, but I am possibly the most dangerous person in this room.¡± James smiled at them. ¡°Being dangerous doesn¡¯t make you less people. That¡¯s the whole point of stuff like this. I wanna be here for you; the whole Order does. We want you all to grow and learn and heal and flourish, so that when the next people who need it show up, we can all greet them together.¡± ¡°That assumes that there will be¡­¡± Carlos started to say, before the inhabitor trailed off, empty eyes focused straight ahead as he turned his head to take in the several species in the room. Rufus waved at him. ¡°Ah.¡± He said, the syllable coming out sharp. James patted him on the shoulder, a gesture that had seemed less awkward in his head than when he did it. ¡°You get used to¡­¡± He stopped as his phone beeped. His phone wasn¡¯t supposed to beep at all, he¡¯d silenced it for this. Also the beep was a noise he¡¯d literally never heard from it. ¡°Sorry, hang on.¡± He pulled the electronic out and checked the screen. There was a series of increasingly frantic messages from Nate and JP, all of which had been ignored because he was busy. And then one message in a glowing red box that took up most of his phone¡¯s screen that should not be there. ¡°James.¡± It read. ¡°Check your messages. Momo.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± He said, poking the message. Apparently, Reed had made good on his threat to grow a program that could circumvent the silent status on smartphones, and now James wondered if it worked on airplane mode. The box vanished, and opened his phone to the normal screen the Order¡¯s shared chat server. ¡°That¡­ uh¡­ that¡¯s weird. Also I need to go?¡± ¡°Do not let us hold you up.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said. ¡°Thank you for joining us today.¡± ¡°See you¡­ later?¡± Arrush asked. James gave him a grin. ¡°Of course.¡± He said, standing and throwing his shoes on quickly. ¡°Everyone play nice!¡± He ran out of the room, hopping the railing of the spatially warped apartment complex and dropping on unstable feet to the courtyard below without having crossed much space at all. His heart beat, and he really, really hoped this wasn¡¯t something worth panicking about. _____ ¡°Sup?¡± James asked as he walked into the briefing warehouse. It looked largely the same as it had yesterday, except for the addition of JP, the replacement of Sarah with Momo, and the fact that Nate looked like he was trying to nap with his eyes open. ¡°I got your message, somehow.¡± ¡°Oh good, that worked!¡± Momo said. ¡°Okay, so¡­ actually, I¡¯m gonna go hand this off to Harvey¡¯s helper squad.¡± She flipped the phone she was holding in the air and jutted an arm out so that it dropped into the pocket of her robe. ¡°JP can explain.¡± James accepted a passing fist bump as Momo shifted her way past the flock of chairs and out the door, before he turned back to JP. ¡°So, again, sup? I was in the middle of a thing.¡± ¡°It can wait.¡± JP said bluntly, kicking the foot of Nate¡¯s chair and getting a start from the other man. ¡°I have a problem for you.¡± ¡°I literally just did this.¡± James said. He didn¡¯t exactly mean to sound tired, or upset, or maybe a little petulant. But he realized it was coming across that way as soon as the words left his mouth. ¡°Sorry. I mean, I¡¯ve only been up for a handful of hours, and my legs are still sore, and I¡¯m feeling kinda drained. So, is this an actual thing, or¡­?¡± Grim faced, JP handed him a USB stick along with one of the weird connector things that let James plug it into his brain. He sighed and clipped it into his skulljack, wordlessly prodding at the information inside. Opening files with his brain was weird, to James. If you were plugged into a laptop or phone or something, it was easy; you just got the OS to do it for you, and then looked at the result. It felt strange, because you weren¡¯t really ¡®looking¡¯, but basically it was the same as using a computer. But if you were just opening stuff on a USB stick, it was almost impossible to read a .jpg or something, because human brains weren¡¯t computers. It had a texture, sort of, and a color, sort of, and maybe something like what infrared light would taste like, but it wasn¡¯t like James could click on the icon and look at the picture. Which was why he was glad this wasn¡¯t a normal file. Instead, it was one of the packaged .mem files, something no modern OS would be able to read, but that a human brain could unravel like a puzzle knot into something that felt comprehensible. He did so, and closed his eyes as he slowly brushed his thoughts against it. Feeling out the memory multiple times, to make it stick. A simple scene. An approach to a rental car, crossing a street. Some burly biker guy on a motorcycle cutting past, causing a hop backward to avoid getting hit. A breath, an attempt to not be angry at the biker, but still annoyed with- Heat and noise. A sharp pain. The world tilted in the wrong direction. James jerked his head back, then narrowed his eyes, flicking his gaze toward JP before he closed them again and replayed the memory. As slowly as he could. Memories stored with skulljacks were unique to human memories in one critical way; perfect fidelity. They didn¡¯t get cluttered and faded with time. Every watch was the first one. James went through it step by step. Watched the exact moment the car bomb went off, caught the momentary glimpse of part of the door approaching too fast, propelled by a vehicular fireball. ¡°What the fuck happened?¡± He asked in a deadly soft voice. ¡°Someone took a shot at one of our people.¡± Nate said in a voice that sounded like he hadn¡¯t slept since James had left him here yesterday. ¡°Notice anything in the replay?¡± James heard that voice, and felt like it meant he hadn¡¯t noticed the right thing. He played it back again, and again. The woman on the motorcycle caused the distance so the rogue wasn¡¯t close to the explosion, the car came apart, the shrapnel hopefully not hurting anyone else on the street. James played it again, looking closely at the faces nearby, looking for anything out of place. And there it was. A little bit before crossing the street; the guy on the corner, fidgeting with something in his coat. Shooting glances at the car, the rogue had barely seen it out of the corner of their eye, but they still saw it, and the memory could be analyzed endlessly to spot the detail. And yeah, as James let it play forward, that guy clearly started moving before the bomb went off, clearly did something immediately beforehand too, probably hitting the trigger. He was heading for a car¡­ and that was all that James could tell. ¡°Who was this?¡± James was afraid to ask. ¡°Are they okay?¡± ¡°Yin.¡± Nate said. ¡°She¡¯s alive. Lost a lot of blood, has a concussion, and a perforated lung, and a bunch of other problems. Half of them we have magic to solve, but she¡¯s down for a while. Not dead though. And still teleported herself out of there.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James hissed the word out. ¡°The guy with the detonator¡­¡± ¡°Bailed out of the city.¡± JP said. ¡°Got the plates from the DMV, the car¡¯s a rental, and has a GPS in it. We¡¯ve got that too. He¡¯s heading southwest, El¡¯s tailing him.¡± ¡°El? Really?¡± ¡°Her car was available and so was she.¡± JP said, like that made it better. ¡°James, we¡¯ve got a problem here.¡± He held up a hand before James could say anything snarky, even though James hadn¡¯t planned to respond with anything except patient listening. ¡°This guy matches one of the killings, but one guy? I don¡¯t think this is all of it. And I dunno if focusing on this is the right call, if there¡¯s still activity in New York.¡± ¡°And I agree.¡± Nate said, grabbing one of a dozen cups off the table seemingly at random and downing whatever coffee was left in it. If it was the wrong cup, he didn¡¯t show it on his face, just staring at James. ¡°The attacks happening are a furball, and this is just one part. But it¡¯s the part we¡¯ve got eyes on.¡± ¡°Okay. What do we do?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, what are our options? We don¡¯t have a way to effectively capture a person, we have no holding capability. Why would he even try to kill Yin anyway? We don¡¯t know enough at all.¡± He stopped, then looked at the two men who were giving him patient looks. ¡°So we wait for him to get where he¡¯s going, then see what¡¯s up?¡± JP clicked his tongue and cocked a finger at James, agreeing with the second person to come up with that plan. ¡°Okay, great. But then¡­ what? We¡¯re just back to the same problem.¡± James paused. ¡°We really need to be equipped to handle stuff like this better. No, no. I can see you already have a plan. Hit me.¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not a huge plan.¡± JP looked over at the desk covered in cups like he was looking for one in particular, but gave up before getting as bold as Nate had. ¡°Follow, observe, build a profile, act if we need to to stop another fucking car bomb, but otherwise just work to specifically counter whatever comes next before it¡¯s a problem.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sorta learning that a lot of this secret agent stuff is basically the same as dealing with people. We can be as proactive as we want, as long as we¡¯re informed and in control.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ god dammit.¡± Nate sighed. ¡°Fuck you, that¡¯s close enough.¡± He glanced at James. ¡°Wanted to keep you in the loop, and ask you to put together your team for if we need anything.¡± ¡°My what now?¡± Nate cocked his eyebrows. ¡°Check your fucking messages.¡± He said flatly. ¡°But whatever. Pick a handful of people you trust in a crisis, and hang out here. You¡¯re on call. Be ready to go at a moment¡¯s notice, don¡¯t go fuck around in the dungeons. We lost valuable time with the Alchemists, and even with Status Quo back¡­ back then. Let¡¯s not screw that up again.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± James said, already rolling over names and faces in his head. ¡°Anything else I need to know?¡± ¡°You good?¡± Nate asked him abruptly. James paused. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You look tired. You good for this?¡± Nate repeated, rubbing at his own exhausted eyes. ¡°You¡¯re the one who needs to sleep.¡± James told him. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I can keep going as long as you need me to. Hell, I was gonna tap you for the crisis team. Go get some sleep. JP can keep an eye on things here-¡± James blindly pointed in JP¡¯s direction, ¡°-shut up yes you can- and I¡¯ll get a group together. Do you want delver or response attitudes? No, wait, I already know the answer, it¡¯s a mix of both. Okay. I know who I¡¯m gonna ask first, and then I¡¯m gonna check on Yin, then go get us a bunch of magic ready to go, and see if I can do this without screwing up half the stuff going on around here. I feel up for being that clever today. Yeah. Yeah!¡± James clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together excitedly. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m on it. Thanks for the heads up.¡± He nodded to them both, and then pivoted, ducked under one of Planner¡¯s manifested tentacles that was grabbing a folder from a desk, and took rapid long steps toward the exit. ¡°Someone get me an exercise potion!¡± He yelled to no one in particular. ¡°Is¡­¡± Nate glanced over at the pile of cups on the desk. ¡°Is all the coffee gone because James drank all the coffee? Is that what just happened?¡± He asked JP. JP just shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ve never seen this before? Nah, that¡¯s just how James is.¡± He said. ¡°The whole endurance stat thing fits him way too well. You push him past what he thinks he can do, and instead of getting tired, he just get¡¯s fucking hyped. It¡¯s really annoying when you¡¯re in high school and trying to be friends with him, but it¡¯s pretty useful now.¡± He poked one of the empty cups. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go do what he said. Get some sleep. I¡¯ll put Ben on duty.¡± ¡°Mmph.¡± Nate grunted, hauling himself to his feet with a swing of his arms. ¡°Get the rest of them out of the city.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need everyone fresh.¡± ¡°Already on it.¡± JP tapped his skulljack¡¯s wifi braid. ¡°Get with the times, old man.¡± ¡°Insubordination.¡± Nate grumbled. He wasn¡¯t exactly wrong. But he wasn¡¯t exactly right either. And both of them split off amicably to tackle their parts of the new task. Hopefully before something else went wrong. Chapter 212 ¡°The tiger / He destroyed his cage / Yes / YES / The tiger is out¡± -The Tiger, by Nael, age 6- _____ It took James half an hour to get a team of people together, and they immediately began getting outfitted for an intervention action. His team was a lot of familiar faces. Partly because it was hard to not be familiar with everyone since he spent his whole life now around the Order he¡¯d built, but also because James picked people he trusted completely. Alanna and Dave were old friends. Thought-Of-Quiet was the camraconda James had spent the most time with, and also the one with the most actual experience in combat situations short of Frequency-Of-Sunset, who wasn¡¯t available today anyway. Simon and Momo were people James still couldn¡¯t help think of as ¡®kids¡¯, but they were also people who¡¯d proven over and over what a person could do with compassionate support and free reign to try new things. And Nikhail was¡­ Well, Nik was weird. Every time James worked with Nik, on delves or talking through stuff in the Research department, the young man had been helpful and eager to learn and grow. But every time James looked away, the kid had caused some new chaotic problem by testing something he really shouldn¡¯t have with zero safety net. Inviting unknown infomorphs into his head, or using shaper substance unsupervised for dealing with gender dysphoria or something like that. James figured keeping him close today would be honestly the safest option, especially since the authority Nik was bonded to was an increasingly powerful medic, especially mixed with his magic. The people he¡¯d chosen were from a bunch of different parts of the Order, but fundamentally he¡¯d pulled people from two mindsets. Delvers and Response. He was a delver, so was Dave, and Momo. Nik, Alanna, and Simon, spent most of their ¡®dealing with a crisis¡¯ time doing so with Response. And there was an intentional separation between the two groups. Because delvers often had to fight for their lives, and often went up against things where literal monsters would be at their throats. And Response put people in situations where they might feel that way, but fundamentally had to hold back. Different mindsets for different jobs. Also why James always took Alanna along when they were trying to pluck ratroaches out of the Akashic Sewer; she was already used to thinking the right way. Here, now, he didn¡¯t know what they were getting into. So he mixed and matched and hoped that the collective way of thinking would see them through. He¡¯d gotten them together, along with figuring out where Sarah went to and bringing her back for support, and checked back in with Ben, who JP had left on command duty for the remaining rogues in the field. Ben, who James had been a little surprised to find directing things, like some kind of professional logistics spider. He was keeping up multiple check-ins with the other rogues, while drafting a schedule for the avatar source members, while checking Order inventory reports, while also regularly getting reports from Planner about something he had the infomorph keeping an ethereal eye on, and all while explaining everything he was doing to one of their interns who was looking somewhat overwhelmed. Ben was doing this at a desk that was more neatly organized and cleaner than JP and Nate had been able to keep their work station, together. ¡°Why the fuck does JP think you should be a field agent?¡± James asked him as he approached. ¡°You¡¯re in charge now. Put him in the field.¡± ¡°Okay, sure.¡± Ben nodded. ¡°Except that¡¯s a terrible idea, and I don¡¯t want to be in charge.¡± ¡°That has literally never stopped us from putting people in charge of things.¡± James told him as he stole the folding chair blocking the aisle and took a seat. ¡°I keep ending up in charge of things, and look how that¡¯s working out.¡± ¡°What, exactly, are you in charge of?¡± Ben queried. James paused. Then glanced back at the group of people he¡¯d brought with him. ¡°Danger?¡± He half-asked. ¡°You can¡¯t put me in charge.¡± Ben informed him. ¡°We¡¯re assembling your kit now. Grab seats, get comfortable. El¡¯s still tailing, we don¡¯t have any updates yet.¡± James shrugged, and passed on the news to his people, who assembled a somewhat more chaotic collection of chairs, beanbags, and in Momo¡¯s case, just the hulking wooden table that she started out sitting on the edge of but transitioned quickly to laying flat against and probably napping. He gave up trying to make small talk when he realized he was being nervous, and Alanna had flicked him in the forehead. Instead, he just took deep breaths, closed his eyes, and tried to relax as the voices of his equally nervous teammates flowed around him. Occasionally joined by drifting words from Ben or Planner or one of the avatar members as they came into the room. Though he had to open his eyes at regular intervals as people filed in with equipment that he needed to know something about. Their group got updated skulljack braids, Davis calmly repeating the specs of them as he handed them out to everyone and made sure they could establish a connection. These ones had their own short range wi-fi hotspots, though they were LAN only and just for brain to brain communications. Some of the programmers, Davis told them, had gotten in a one-sided competition with the emerald program chips, and had tried to design something better and more effective than could be grown. Which is why they had something with an incredibly robust method of backup connections, and then a back end that was a Byzantine mess for an interface for sharing audio, video, and thoughts within the group. Davis would not elaborate on whether it was the programmers or the magical nonsense material that made the well constructed part. At some point, they were handed filter masks with an aerosolized potion dosage tool, an idea that they hadn¡¯t even had to steal from the Alchemists; Nile had just straight up suggested it to someone, and they¡¯d spend the last two weeks refining it. They still weren¡¯t perfect, but they were as durable as they were bulky, and they were far easier to use than trying to drink something out of a flask mid-fight. At least, according to Simon and Dave, who had apparently been training with them already. They even had one that fit a camraconda. Thought-Of-Quiet, also, got a prototype arm backpack. Not they weren¡¯t all prototypes, but this one had a heavier motor, a lower battery life, and one side¡¯s counterweight was a mount point for a rifle that apparently he could sight down using the tiny camera and his skulljack link. James asked why he didn¡¯t get a cyberpunk aimbot system, which had caused some blank stares and embarrassed looks from the two people helping the camraconda secure the straps like they were squires. Then more mundane stuff started filtering in. Or at least, less esoteric, from the Order¡¯s perspective. Packages of orbs or magic items, especially the essential SQ stuff like bracers and gun bangles and earrings. Nate, who was absolutely not sleeping, wheeled in a crate that he cracked open and started handing out compact little bullpup rifles from. James had asked why they kept using P90s, when they obviously could get different guns, and Nate had just made a cryptic comment to ¡®knowing a guy¡¯, which caused Momo and Alanna to start a deep dive of a conspiracy about Nate having some kind of clandestine romance with a man who made guns by hand in his garage. ¡°Like that scene from Ghost!¡± Alanna said. ¡°Except with an anvil instead of a pottery wheel, and one of these instead of a pot, and Nate instead of¡­ Kevin¡­ Bacon? Was that Kevin Bacon?¡± James snickered as he listened to them while an intern helped him get the straps on his own body armor. They really were like squires, though it suddenly struck him as bizarre to be told by a teenager to go through some basic rotational motions, while his teammates did the same nearby, as he prepared to get into a fight. A case of copied orbs was opened, and passed out. James took a couple purples he hadn¡¯t used before, and absorbed another blue for Manipulate Asphalt, bringing him back to full on a spell he¡¯d found to be frankly too useful. [Shell Upgraded : -3 Broken Bones / Year] [Shell Upgraded : Skin Durability - Tensile Strength - +114 PSI] All of them got a telepad, with one page preset to bring them back to the Lair. The landing pad was going to be under heavy guard, just in case someone lost theirs. A dozen other magic items got handed out, with James being especially happy to get a stack of sticky notes that temporarily paralyzed whatever they were stuck on, and Alanna and Dave both grabbing copies of the USB stick that stored network connection in case their group needed to go online for anything when they otherwise wouldn¡¯t be able to. Momo also had a bunch of pencils floating around her head, but James was pretty sure those were just her personal doodads. More mundane, mostly, were the flight of drones they were brough. James was pretty good at piloting the things with his brain, but Simon was a fucking wizard with the things. He muttered something about splitting his focus, as he conducted three of the little quad-copters around the room. They tested the drones feeding them all shared video, and also passing off control as easily as they could. They did not test the weapons on the drones; all of them had a quartet of salvaged lasers from Officium Mundi 2.0s, the pseudo-organic laser pointers far, far more powerful than their weight should allow. Not the most lethal weapon, but something that couldn¡¯t be ignored if they needed a distraction. And then the flow of people bringing them stuff tapered off. And then, well, then the fight didn¡¯t happen. At least, not right away. James just¡­ sat back down. And waited. For when Ben snapped his head up and told them it was time to go. Waited. Waited some more. Watched the avatar sources come in, the faces he mostly recognized but still didn¡¯t quite feel connected to. Listened in as Ben checked up on El. Tried to talk to Momo about magic stuff before his brain kept skipping words when they tried to get into a conversation about adding new powers to Status Quo items. ¡°You seem¡­ off?¡± Momo asked, almost politely. ¡°Eh. I¡¯m nervous.¡± James said, his foot bouncing on the floor as they talked. ¡°About this. About everything. Like, are we getting into a new SQ? How many of us¡­¡± He choked off his words, and looked away. Something caught in his throat, a surge of emotion he only mostly recognized flooding up through him, with a whisper of a warm breeze in the back of his mind offering reassurance as his navigator stirred. Momo tilted her head off the edge of her table to look at him. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡± She said easily. ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could happen? Our lives get destroyed?¡± It took James a second of sudden anger to remember that Momo wasn¡¯t being flippant. Not exactly, anyway. Took him that long to remember that she¡¯d seen her life shattered around her multiple times, and that not even the Order had kept her perfectly safe. Momo was used to the world ending; she had experience. ¡°You doing okay?¡± He asked her, partially changing the subject. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m great!¡± Momo said with a waggle of her eyebrows. ¡°Actually been getting exercise, against my own better judgement. Doing the field practice for some of the magic stuff that Nate runs. Uh¡­ going out to dinner with my g¡­ friend? Later?¡± ¡°Momo.¡± James¡¯ bad mood was swept away as he folded his arms and looked down at her upside down head with a barely contained grin. ¡°Your what?¡± ¡°Nothing!¡± She said too quickly. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s probably not gonna work out. We are, apparently, both busy today.¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± James reached down and patted her on the head, messing up the half-mohawk the girl was sporting. She¡¯d dyed it orange today, and James continued to be jealous of someone who had the time and energy to make their hair weird colors. ¡°I¡¯m gonna wander around, stretch my legs. Yell if Ben needs me.¡± ¡°Got it boss.¡± She saluted, taking the escape route easily. Shaking his head, James craned his back and rolled his neck as he started pacing away into the warehouse. He didn¡¯t want to get in the way, exactly, and there were still people coming and going. But he wanted to move a little, try to shake out the lingering nerves that were creeping back in. Normally James¡¯ fights to the death were less planned. He didn¡¯t have time to panic before, only to regret everything afterward. With that in mind, he zeroed in on the person best suited to talk to about that, and headed over to say hi to Sarah. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re good for existential crises, right?¡± James said as he approached her, giving an ¡®oof¡¯ as Sarah flung herself at his chest in a low hug. ¡°James!¡± She exclaimed as she pulled back. ¡°Perfect!¡± Sarah motioned to the man from the crowd of people she was arcanely connected to that she¡¯d been talking to. ¡°This is Steve, I have to go do a thing! I¡¯ll be back before you start getting shot at!¡± ¡°Wait, Sarah, that¡¯s not what I-!¡± James half reached after her as she ducked past someone, hopped over a stack of cardboard boxes, and was out the rear door into the parking lot in no time at all. ¡°¡­I didn¡¯t mean give me a new existential crisis, you¡­ you¡­¡± He sighed, and turned back to Steve. ¡°Hi. James. Nice to meet you.¡± He extended a hand to the other man. Steve took James¡¯ gloved hand in a grip that was still firm, and sharp. The guy was lanky, getting on in years and kind of bony but still with packed muscle on his arms that spoke of a life of hard work. ¡°Same. Nice outfit.¡± ¡°Thanks!¡± James took the words at face value. ¡°Also, thanks for the backup. I feel like the most I¡¯ve gotten to talk to any of you guys was getting my ass kicked at volleyball when we were at the beach. So, you know, thanks for being here.¡± The partly disinterested look on Steve¡¯s face melted away into something more personal. ¡°Oh, yeah, don¡¯t mention it.¡± He said, turning and folding his arms as he looked after where Sarah went. ¡°Think she¡¯s coming back?¡± ¡°Eventually!¡± James answered. ¡°Uh¡­ are you okay with the whole¡­ thing? That was an awfully quick ¡®don¡¯t mention it¡¯.¡± He asked, with as much subtly as someone like James was capable of. Steve shrugged, idly retucking the grey shirt he was wearing back into his belt. ¡°It beats actually working, I guess.¡± He said, then noticed James¡¯ worried look. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that look,¡± he tilted his head back in a sharp motion. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Really, it¡¯s fine! I get to help out, and it mostly feels¡­ fine.¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Fine, eh?¡± James prompted. ¡°I mean. Yeah. It also sorta just feels like¡­¡± He paused, and then stopped. James looked at him with raised eyebrows. ¡°Feels like what?¡± ¡°Nah, nothing. Forget it. It¡¯s stupid.¡± James folded his arms. ¡°No no. Let me know, here. There¡¯s only two real options; either it¡¯s stupid like you said, or, you just feel awkward about being vulnerable. And the whole point here is that it¡¯s okay to be vulnerable, so if it¡¯s that, then it¡¯s a great chance to prove that there¡¯s no penalty for being open, because we¡¯re getting away from that stupid way of doing things. But! If it is stupid, then the second point here is that when we do stupid things, we should be open about them so we can learn how to not fuck up all the time! So either way, I ain¡¯t forgetting anything.¡± He ended giving the older man a pointed look. Steve just stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°I feel like my son would fucking love you.¡± ¡°Thanks!¡± ¡°He¡¯s insufferable too.¡± ¡°¡­You know what, I¡¯ll take it.¡± James said with a somewhat forced grin. The other man just sighed. ¡°This is it, mostly. This. You make it so fucking easy to talk, or to help, or whatever. So yeah, I¡¯m here on my day off, I¡¯m tired and sore from running pipe to all the fucking magical apartments, and somehow, it still feels fucking fulfilling or something.¡± He waved a hand around them. ¡°All I do is sit on my ass, and be exhausted, while you go out and save the world, and it¡¯s dumb, but I still feel¡­ helpful. Good about being helpful. For no fucking reason.¡± James gave a small, sad smile. ¡°Seems like it¡¯s a pretty good reason to me.¡± He said. ¡°I dunno about you, but I basically got raised to think that everyone was supposed to be perfect on their own. But that¡¯s fucking stupid, and I think we all know it. It¡¯s okay to take pride in adding to something bigger.¡± He paused and had a thought. ¡°Actually, though, if you mean you¡¯re bored doing this, we could, like, get you practice and training so you could move to a field agent position? If you want?¡± ¡°Oh fuck no!¡± Steve barked a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m just bored with the waiting!¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, that I¡¯m with you on. We should get a couple consoles in here and get some games of Halo going. The kids still play Halo, right?¡± James asked. ¡°I hope the kids still play Halo.¡± ¡°I¡¯d play some Halo.¡± Steve agreed. ¡°But also, I-¡° From across the room, Ben¡¯s voice, amplified by Planner, rose up over the growing murmur of conversations. ¡°Contact!¡± The single word silenced the room. Even Sarah, who was sprinting back in, muffled her steps as she hit the expanding zone of silence around the rogue at the center of the small operation. ¡°Prepare for deployment, we¡¯ve got a new problem.¡± ¡°Oh good.¡± James said, his voice suddenly loud in the quiet room. ¡°I was afraid this was going to be different than normal.¡± _____ El was bored of driving. This, on its own, wasn¡¯t actually that weird. She loved driving. Loved her car. Her car was her fucking baby. She¡¯d modified it with mundane and magical parts alike, and it was one hundred percent hers, through and through. It was a little weird, because if you¡¯d told teenage El that one day she¡¯d be more into engine maintenance and tire specs than whatever world-consuming obsession teenage El had been into at the time, she wouldn¡¯t have believed you. But literal magic had a way of making a lot of things interesting. El was getting sidetracked in her thoughts. Which happened, when you were bored. The point was she loved her car, but that wasn¡¯t enough to make focusing on a repetitive and stressful task for several hours ¡®fun¡¯. They were somewhere in Pennsylvania, the guy she was following having dropped off the 80 and headed northwest on side streets toward an unknowable destination. It was a wonderful place to drive, if you were a middle aged couple that liked looking at trees; fall might have come late on the west coast, but here, it was changing colors and making everything look like splashes of red and yellow on the world. El didn¡¯t really care about trees. She cared slightly less about the farmland they passed, and far, far less for all the knots of traffic and headache that were the cities they went through. They weren¡¯t really cities at this point, though. More like townships. Little dots of people that sprouted along the highway like weeds, in an area that was developed to the point that enough stuff was close enough that you could live basically anywhere and have access to things. But they still had cars, and idiot drivers. El was tired. She wanted to swap out with someone, but it seemed like the asshole who¡¯d nearly killed Yin wasn¡¯t stopping, so she stayed on him. It was entirely possible that the Order could have tracked him through traffic cams or drones or something, but El was right here, and bored or not, she wasn¡¯t gonna be the one to fuck this up. In the seat next to her, an ambiguously old guy named Jim with a perfectly rugged goatee and thick round glasses said something down their open line to Ben, before reporting that they had nothing to report, and setting the phone down. ¡°Hell of a day.¡± He offered, cracking his neck with a series of wet pops. ¡°Did you lose him?¡± He asked as he looked around the road in front of them. El gave an exasperated sigh, and spun one of her spells into the world. An Eye Of Steel And Glass was a fascinating thing; she¡¯d mostly used it to take inventory and find where people hid things for a while, but the almost index-like way it presented the world to her made it excellent for keeping track of whoever you were following. Inventorying vehicles letting her pick out their target¡¯s late model Kia Sedona about as easily as blinking. Point four miles ahead, matched speed; El didn¡¯t even need to be in visual range of their quarry to stalk him. She turned to Jim, and gave him a look, before turning back to the road, small splinters of ethereal broken glass and metal shavings trailing off the corner of her eye as she did so. ¡°Fuck me I¡¯m tired. Ask James to teleport coffee in when he joins us.¡± El said, only half meaning it. ¡°Gotta plan ahead, kid.¡± Jim said, shaking his own thermos. ¡°Be smarter than the problem.¡± ¡°My problem is that this guy decided to flee for six hours, and I had a thing to do tonight.¡± El snapped back. ¡°Also, aren¡¯t you gonna have to piss? This seems like a terrible idea. I will kick you out of my car if you try to piss in a bottle.¡± Jim ignored her jab. ¡°Aw, look at you! Having a social life!¡± He said in the tone of someone condescending to someone they told their friends was their favorite niece, and that their niece thought of as their least favorite uncle. ¡°What¡­ what the fuck, dude?¡± El wanted to stop the car and just stare at the guy, in a kind of primal form of disbelieving ire. ¡°Why would you say that like that?¡± She felt her own voice take on a defensive tone. Jim didn¡¯t seem to notice. Or care. The older rogue just tapping away at his laptop as he answered, ¡°Oh, lighten up. God, you kids are so easily offended.¡± El really, really, did not like the rogue she¡¯d been told to pick up on her way to this fresh problem. Intellectually, she understood that Jim was useful to them; the guy was good with details, had learned a variety of important skills quickly, and he was¡­ well, not to be too offensive to his easily hurt old-guy feelings, but he was pretty fucking nondescript. He was the human version of background noise, which was useful to someone that the Order was basically training to be a spy. Also, El admitted, she knew that James¡¯ whole thing about giving people a chance to get better wasn¡¯t total bullshit. But holy fuck, did she not like Jim. So instead of listening to him, she let herself fall into the kind of zoned out trance state she used when driving long distances. And as her breathing steadied, and she roiled her irritation into a ball in her head, she slipped down to somewhere within herself to whisper to a friend. ¡°I fucking hate that guy.¡± El said to Speaker. They were in a car, still. It was the same car, on technically the same road. But this place was more faded. El was here, and up there, at the same time. James had just stared at her when she¡¯d said she could do it, before muttering something about rampant envy. Here, the road was smoother, calmer. Around them weren¡¯t wet townships and rapidly fading daylight, but golden tall grass, hot sun, and, in the distance, a weird fucking scarecrow that was always the same distance away from her car not matter how far she drove. Next to her was a thing shaped like an Old God, wearing her face like a coat. All fins and scales and teeth and eyes, in a patterned jumble of blue and teal fish thoughts. That also looked like her. ¡°He¡¯s rude!¡± Speaker agreed with her in the voice of a kid who was trying really hard to be mature. ¡°And he says things he doesn¡¯t mean! That is wrong!¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± El let the surprise wash past her, without breaking her driver¡¯s trance. Speaker nodded, the blonde curls El tried so hard to contain let totally loose on this version of her form. ¡°Yeah!¡± The infomorph whispered excitedly. ¡°He suppresses his compassion, and covers it with what he thinks he should say, and I think lies to himself?¡± She trailed off at the end, uncertain. ¡°Humans are strange.¡± The infomorph told El bluntly. ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡± El snorted a laugh, here and up top, where she was making a lane change. ¡°You doing okay, kiddo?¡± She checked in with the creature that she shared her head with. ¡°I am fine! I am counting signs as we drive. It is entertaining. Are you okay?¡± The infomorph twisted around to encircle El¡¯s presence down here with a long tail in a comforting hug. ¡°You were excited for tonight. Now you are sad.¡± ¡°Hey, no reading my mind.¡± El grinned as she said the words. It was a weirdly layered joke between the two of them; she didn¡¯t care if Speaky read her thoughts, because in a way, the infomorph was her thoughts. But the scolding itself was a lie, spoke, which was a strange source of dissonance for Speaker, who knew it was meant to be that, and so looped around to finding it to be powerfully honest. ¡°Also I¡¯m not sad, I¡¯m just bored. And I¡­ uh¡­¡± She trailed off as the infomorph went shock still, the mask shaped like El cracking away and showing more of those deep teal scales and the flicking serpent tongues of a dozen hissing maws. ¡°El¡­¡± Speaky said with wide eyed worry. ¡°Yeah, I feel it.¡± El said, borrowing the alarm Speaky was experiencing. ¡°With me?¡± ¡°Always.¡± The infomorph whispered. El closed her eyes below, blinked above, and dropped out of her trance. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong.¡± She said to Jim, cutting off whatever the man had been saying that she wasn¡¯t listening to. El whipped her head side to side, noting that Jim instantly shut up and did the same. Asshole he might be, but he wasn¡¯t stupid. Jim flipped his glasses neatly into his pocket and replaced them with a pair of the affiliation glasses the Order kept on hand. ¡°Nothing in the cars around us. Unless ¡®senator¡¯ is a problem.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll run ¡®em off the road later if we have time.¡± El said, jerking the wheel to switch lanes without signaling as she whipped the car past two people who both honked at her. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything. Speaky, what am I looking for?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± The infomorph now curled in her hair squeaked. ¡°There are silencers nearby!¡± She shivered against El¡¯s neck. ¡°They came from nowhere!¡± ¡°Fuck me.¡± El said as she checked her internal supply of Velocity. The strange mana hummed in a rotating ball in her chest; contained motion and the teeth of perfectly refined gears growing back to full strength as she drove. ¡°Okay.¡± She whispered, and then pushed her spell out again. An Eye Of Steel And Glass, her face again lightly transforming as she saw the world around her through a new paradigm. Her target was still the same distance away. There were thirty eight other cars on the road between her and him, and another fifty six around them in various places. Some of them were trucks, but her magic didn¡¯t go two layers deep, so she had no idea what the semi¡¯s were hauling. The sun was going down, but her Eye didn¡¯t care. Streetlights and the growing patter of rain didn¡¯t stop her from seeing everything around her. Including the helicopter. ¡°What the fuck?!¡± El pitched her head up, staring through the roof of her car and absolutely ignoring road safety as she did so. Jim followed her gaze, but did so looking out the window. ¡°What the fucking hell is an Mi-35?!¡± She demanded. ¡°Russian attack helicopter?¡± Jim answered, instant concern poured into his voice. ¡°Where? I don¡¯t see¡­¡± He stopped. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Command?¡± He had the phone up. ¡°We have a potential situation.¡± El whipped her vision back to the road as a car slowed to turn off the road, swerving like an asshole as she cut someone off to pass by. She ignored the honks she was getting as she accelerated, nothing mattering now but staying on the target. The speed limit here was thirty, and she was¡­ mildly ignoring that. She¡¯d checked the world not even ten minutes ago. The aircraft had either closed in way faster than seemed reasonable, or it had come from literal nowhere. Either way, El could sort of track where it was moving, her speed helping to replace the Velocity she was spending to keep her Eye active. And it was keeping parallel to the road she was on, lagging a couple stoplights behind her target. Which meant it was here for her, or him. And neither of those seemed great. ¡°No visual on the craft.¡± Jim was saying, still looking out the window. El pointed, keeping one hand on the wheel as she drove, and Jim followed the line to where the aircraft was. ¡°Nope. It¡¯s either over the clouds, or something else. Glasses can¡¯t spot it either, but that doesn¡¯t mean much.¡± He glanced at El. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s sure.¡± He said to whatever Ben asked him, and El nodded at him, pulling her hand back. ¡°Okay. We can keep-¡° ¡°It¡¯s moving!¡± El barked. ¡°Dropping down, I don¡¯t¡­ oh!¡± The road took a slight bend, and suddenly, they were out of the rows of businesses and going past what looked like a sloped field and a public park. A big one, too. ¡°Open space, and the road widens ahead. It¡¯s coming down, and it¡¯s absolutely on the other guy.¡± ¡°Oh fuck me.¡± Jim said. ¡°That¡¯s a big open flat field.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ piss.¡± El barked. ¡°They¡¯re his ride, aren¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Command,¡± Jim said slowly into his phone, ¡°if you¡¯ve got a way to chase an invisible helicopter, we¡¯re gonna need that.¡± Next to him, El¡¯s grin got really, really wide. _____ James and Alanna heard what Ben said, but the words took a second for them to actually run through their brains. Then they looked at each other, eyes widening in a kind of smug excitement. Then they turned and looked at Dave. Along with the rest of the team, and half of the people in the warehouse. Dave stopped moving, the danish he was eating halfway to his mouth. Frozen like that, mouth half open, he looked back and forth between his friends. ¡°What?¡± He said. Then Alanna started moving, slapping James¡¯ and Momo¡¯s armored shoulders as she started running. ¡°Roof! Now! Let¡¯s go!¡± The others followed her, a line of armored figured moving in a jog across the warehouse space as everyone got out of the way of them and the ladder to the roof. Alanna paused to usher everyone up, before bringing up the rear with Thought-Of-Quiet wrapped around her as she let her powerful frame carry the two hundred pounds of camraconda like it was nothing. ¡°Why are we running?!¡± Dave gasped out. ¡°Because you keep parking your dragon on the roof, and we need to go!¡± James said, offering a hand down the ladder and helping Dave pull himself up quickly. ¡°Go! Get Pendragon ready to fly! She can still cloak, right?¡± ¡°Right. Right!¡± Dave said, running around an HVAC unit and pushing aside the flap of a makeshift tarp tent. ¡°Hey girl.¡± He greeted the increasingly bulky draconic form of Pendragon who was napping under it. The big dragon, formed out of laminated indestructible paper, aircraft aluminum, a few hundred pencils, a quartet of office chairs that had morphed into delicately wheeled claws, several dozen magic items, and god only knew what else, perked her head up at Dave¡¯s words. ¡°You feel like giving my friends a ride?¡± The dragon looked down at him with shaded lamp eyes, before she craned a long neck up, nodded, and the front of her chest split open. Inside, a series of metal ribs framed a simple coat and a skulljack link, which Dave rapidly stepped up into, plugging their minds together. ¡°Okay! Everyone in!¡± James called as Pendragon shivered, raising her wings and opening gill-like slits on her flanks that led to fairly cramped, but oddly comfortable, pods that a person could sit in. ¡°We¡¯re under the telepad limit, so get us in the air, and I¡¯ll blip us where we need to go!¡± He called to Dave. It took under a minute for everyone to file in, Nik and Momo cheerfully bantering about dragon rides while James and Alanna waited for everyone else before taking the last seats. ¡°Ready?¡± Alanna asked him just before they stepped in. He leaned forward and pecked a kiss on her. ¡°Ready.¡± James grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s go ruin someone else¡¯s plans for a change.¡± Thirty seconds later, Pendragon took a running leap off the side of the building. Growing wings that had more in common with a bat than any commercial aircraft pumping as she hauled her magically reduced weight into the sky. Then, a shimmer of light as one of the magic items she¡¯d folded into her body activated and she and all her passengers and cargo became transparent. And then, James pulled his telepad to the street address Ben gave them over their comms, and they vanished. They felt ready for anything. James felt like they¡¯d need to be. Chapter 213 ¡°If my fall made you smile, you might not want to witness what''s about to happen when I get up.¡± -Yvonne Pierre, The Day My Soul Cried: A Memoir- _____ There were a finite number of things El expected would be possible during her average day. It was a big list of things, to be sure, but it was bounded at some point. Invisible helicopter was, actually, shockingly, on her list. Sort of. She tried to do the thing she¡¯d vaguely heard of, where she projected an aura of ¡°it¡¯s okay, I¡¯m supposed to be here¡±, as she pulled into the barely maintained gravel parking lot for the nearby walking trails. And felt kinda lucky, because a half hour later and it would have been so dark that this would be utterly, hopelessly suspicious. Their target had already parked, but there was a minivan leaving the lot and what looked like a haggard parent trying to shepard a trio of young boys into another car, stowing a bag full of soccer balls into their trunk. And so the place was busy enough that El putting a modified convertible a few car lengths away from the dude wasn¡¯t a problem. Or at least, he didn¡¯t react. And he was still in his car, too. ¡°Same guy.¡± Jim informed her from the passenger seat, looking over and getting a good look with the affiliation glasses for the first time. ¡°Joao Marten, apparently a ¡®soldier¡¯ for whomstever Priority Earth are.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say that.¡± El rolled her eyes as she killed her headlights but left the car¡¯s engine running. ¡°Soldier?¡± ¡°Whomstever. That¡¯s our meme.¡± El was aware she was bullying him slightly. She didn¡¯t care, Jim still annoyed her, and being useful didn¡¯t change that. Also, El knew, Jim didn¡¯t care. The guy seemed to act like being an asshole to someone was the same thing as affection, and so¡­ oh. A thought crossed her mind. ¡°Oh, shit.¡± El thought to herself, ¡°I do the same thing, don¡¯t I? Is this why¡­¡± Her moment of introspection crumbled as their pursuit target got out of his car. The man slinging a bag over his shoulder as he ran a hand over a forehead that was sweating despite the cold night. El and Jim both shut up, and looked inconspicuous, as the man¡¯s gaze swept past her car without stopping. Then he turned and started marching into the field, the park grass near the trail that he walked over quickly giving way to taller and unmown plants that formed the majority of the empty field. ¡°How windy is it right now?¡± El asked, watching him go. Jim tilted the phone he was talking into away from his head. ¡°Not.¡± He said. ¡°Cool. Well, that explains where the chopper is.¡± El nodded, pointing at where the grass was bowing downward. ¡°Do you hear anything?¡± ¡°Hey, so, be advised; the helicopter is invisible, inaudible, and currently landing.¡± Jim said into the phone, like that was a normal thing to say. Maybe it was normal. El¡¯s sense of reality had pretty much gone fully out the window about the time she started being a camp counselor for a multi-species youth group. She watched closely, burning more of her Velocity to keep An Eye Of Steel And Glass running as she tracked the MI-24 while it set down, apparently still running if the motion of the grass was anything to go by, and the man picked up speed, sprinting across the field toward it. Then, for a brief moment, there was a helicopter sitting in the field, only a few dozen feet ahead of the running man. He ducked, putting a hand on his head like he was worried his short curly hair was going to get sucked up into the still spinning blades. ¡°Backup¡¯s here.¡± Jim said abruptly. El already knew. She could see the other vehicle in the area. Though it was weird to see a mode of transport that had ¡®Dave¡¯ as part of its name, even if the rest of it was a little cooler. ¡°Where are they?¡± El asked herself, casting her eyes up for the dragon and its cargo of people. They were cloaked, of course. And judging by the lack of response from the aircraft on the ground, it was working. Then the helicopter tilted up, and started to rise off the ground, flickering away into invisibility again, even if it was still clearly there. ¡°Can they even see to follow that?¡± El asked. ¡°No. But you can.¡± Jim reached into the back and grabbed a bag of emergency kit. ¡°Go. Go! They¡¯re landing in the same spot to pick you up!¡± ¡°What?!¡± El barked. ¡°I am not¡­!¡± She trailed off. Then grabbed the bag that was being roughly shoved into her lap. ¡°This is so fucking stupid.¡± She said as she kicked her door open and swung her legs out. ¡°You get my baby back to the Lair safe, or I¡¯m gonna be real mad!¡° She yelled at Jim as she started sprinting across the field at the same trajectory that the man they were chasing had taken. Pendragon didn¡¯t really bother to make herself visible the same way the helicopter did. Instead, as El tried to settle the bag in a way that wasn¡¯t a pain in the ass to haul, and regretted not bringing a coat as she left the warm embrace of her car¡¯s heater, the paper craft dragon just cracked open some of her scales along her growing flank, and let El see where her seat was. El adjusted her angle, threw the bag into Pen with heave, and then pulled herself up, getting a hand from whoever was in the seat next to her as someone reached an armored glove down to pull her up. ¡°Thanks.¡± El grumbled as the sheet paper scales closed back up, and a soft interior glow lit up the mostly enclosed space around her. She¡¯d only ridden in Pendragon a couple times; everyone who might be on a crisis operation had to to get some practice with it. So El knew at least that if she wanted to contribute her eyes, she needed to share somewhat. The skulljack port behind her curved and padded seat was easy enough to find, and she stretched the extra cable to the back of her neck quickly as she felt the lurch in her stomach from Pendragon¡¯s beating wings pushing them into the air. ¡°Thank you for choosing Dragon Air.¡± A voice that was a strange mix of Dave¡¯s low tenor with all the awkwardness stripped out, mixed with a somehow feminine growl, echoed through the area. ¡°Now climbing to a cruising altitude of several hundred feet, the next leg of our journey will be chasing an invisible Russian military surplus attack helicopter through the local airspace of Pennsylvania. Rough ETA of 8PM, local time, if you had plans for the evening.¡± ¡°I did have plans for the evening!¡± El yelled at him through the internals of the dragon she was riding. ¡°He can¡¯t hear you.¡± James¡¯ voice came to her from one seat to her right. ¡°Or at least, he¡¯s pretended to not be able to every time he¡¯s done this joke.¡± ¡°You teleported here. How many chances has he had to do this joke?¡± El grumbled as she sent her mind out across the skulljack link, touching on connections to other minds that she strayed away from, trying to find the glowing beacon that was Pendragon and Dave themselves, to offer the simple feed of a set of eyes. ¡°Twice, but I¡¯m on edge, so it¡¯s already old.¡± James called to her as El slipped into the feed from her organic cybernetic port. And then she was not quite entirely herself. Which El hated. But she wasn¡¯t entirely El at the moment. Unlike a lot of people in the Order who took a lot of opportunities to play around with the illusion of individuality and consciousness by forming hive minds as practice, El was a lot more¡­ well, fucking terrified seemed like a good way to put it. And when you plugged into a network with another mind on it, there was a kind of sliding pull to just let the connection do its thing, and become one, and she wasn¡¯t great at resisting that while still making use of the skulljack connection. She flapped their wings, great beats of altered synthetic material pushing the air down as they headed in the rough direction of where the target was. Wind streaming past and fluttering indestructible paper and durable aluminum, an intangible something pushing against the world, rendering her weight less of a problem, turning her tail into a whipping propeller that drove her onward. Ah, but she needed to see the helicopter! Which was fine, she had a spell from the Route that could¡­ Then El was pushed back slightly, only a moment later after slipping. ¡°Here.¡± Dave/Pendragon¡¯s thoughts touched hers. ¡°Bad time to learn. But like this.¡± In her seat, she took a gasping breath as she remembered she had to use her own lungs, and tried not to throw up. But they were on the clock, and El wasn¡¯t gonna let something as petty as existential dread about her own individuality keep her from toughing it out. She grabbed the line the pilot and their ride offered her, and tried again, this time keeping carefully to just sharing their sight. An Eye of Steel And Glass almost certainly looked a lot cooler when it was cast through an actual dragon, El figured. Through borrowed eyes, her vision instantly snapped to the only other vehicle in the air over the trees and power lines below them; a military grade attack helicopter that was invisible to sight, but not to her magic. ¡°Got them. How long can you keep this up?¡± The voice reverberated through the inside of the dragon. ¡°At this speed? Hours, probably?¡± El guessed, yelling back to Dave, trying to split her focus between that and keeping the visual connection going. ¡°If we¡¯re gonna be doing long haul, though, Pen should really get some comfier seats. Maybe windows?¡± ¡°I am not a minivan.¡± That strange dual voice slipped through the interior of the dragon. El smiled to herself. ¡°It¡¯s fine! I shirked adult responsibilities too, for¡­ uh¡­ what the fuck?¡± She broke off what she was saying and pitched forward, eyes widening. ¡°What what the fuck?¡± She heard James yell from somewhere else. ¡°Don¡¯t just say that, tell us what¡¯s going on.¡± He sounded firm, but not hostile, a voice that a lot of people weren¡¯t used to hearing from James. El swallowed, rapidly pulling herself together. ¡°I can see more through the spell.¡± She explained. ¡°Like, other vehicles? A tanker truck, a couple jeeps¡­¡± ¡°Can¡¯t spot anything below us through the drones!¡± Simon reported. ¡°No, not below us!¡± El called back. ¡°Yeah, we see them too.¡± Dave and Pendragon¡¯s mixed vocals sounded perplexed. ¡°They¡¯re right ahead of us. Uh¡­ for reference, we are fourteen hundred feet off the ground.¡± ¡°Shit.¡± James¡¯ voice was abrupt as he realized something. ¡°Portal, you think?¡± He called up to Dave. ¡°If it is, we can¡¯t see¡­ no, there it¡­! No. No, can¡¯t see it.¡± Dave sounded irate. ¡°But it should be right ahead of us. El, I don¡¯t know this magic, how close is the heli?¡± She withered in her seat. ¡°I have no idea! This is for inventory, not tracking invisible gunships!¡± She yelled defensively. ¡°We do not follow them.¡± James said in that comfortably commanding tone he was more and more falling into. ¡°Let them go, but see if we can get anything useful before they¡¯re gone.¡± They didn¡¯t have a whole tone of information gathering tools with them that worked on unknown invisible magic. But Simon let out a couple drones to try to get closer, and anyone who had a small way to see something connected to Dave and Pendragon through their better designed skulljack links and started looking. There was nothing. Or at least, nothing of value. Just the empty night sky, Pendragon¡¯s heavy wing beats keeping them above the trees and power lines and streetlights with a steady light bobbing motion. They knew they were tracking something, but they couldn¡¯t see it, or its escape route. It was infuriating. The feeling of being powerless. And, to James personally, it was pretty annoying to have spent a not inconsiderable amount of time preparing to confront this new foe, only to end up in the back seat of a dragon that could only barely see what was going on. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re gonna catch them.¡± Dave and Pendragon¡¯s mixed voices reached the passengers. Alanna thunked her head against the internal ¡®wall¡¯ of magically organic paper and plastic, letting out a low groan that was matched by Nikhail, the two of them having been actually excited for this. James just kept his thoughts to himself, quietly keeping track of everything going on as they flew, but mentally prepared for them to head back to the Lair. ¡°Hey!¡± Momo¡¯s voice was still excited as she called to the others through Pendragon. ¡°Now my dinner plans are back on the table!¡± Someone groaned at the pun. El just smirked, and opened her mouth to call something back. Which was, of course, when the sky changed. She saw it through her standoffish connection to Pendragon¡¯s eyes. The world was dark up here, but down below there were streetlights and the headlights of passing cars. The sunset was done, and now it was time for night, the world declared. Overhead were clouds, not a star in sight, the moon so thoroughly covered she wouldn¡¯t have been able to see where it was with her human eyes. But then, abruptly, the darkness was split. A ring of expanding brightness. Not especially glowing, to be sure, but the pale white light was practically blinding against the darkness around them. And then the hole in the sky started to grow; creeping up like a wave lapping at the shore, like it planned to swallow the sky itself. There was shouting inside the dragon, El was pretty sure she heard James yelling at Dave to break off, but she couldn¡¯t focus on anything except the change of reality ahead of them. Ahead. Overhead. Below. Everywhere. The night was replaced by a grey and cloudy twilight, darkening rapidly but still bright by the standards of night, specks of snow or icy rain whipped around by the wind. Below, the road vanished, replaced by a muddy field and a collection of cabins and tents. Pendragon craned her neck back to watch as the changes took hold around them, beating her wings in rapid movement as the growing bubble of another place snapped itself closed what seemed like just behind her tail. And then the cold hit. The wind was sharper, wetter, and worse here. Discomfort shot through the dragon, until through her connection to Dave, the two of them nudged the Object inside of her that caused heat, and used it to warm her blood to acceptable levels. ¡°What the fuck was that?!¡± Alanna demanded, the chill already seeping through the frame around her. ¡°James?!¡± ¡°No idea, but we¡¯re taking it.¡± James let out a wondrous breath. ¡°That was amazing.¡± It took him less time than the actual process had to realize just how useful something that could move everything in a zone of space was. The Order could teleport. They couldn¡¯t teleport like that. Whoever had this should have been using it to revolutionize global shipping, not an escape route. Though being fair, they used the telepads as an escape route basically non-stop, so who was he to judge? But as quickly as James realized the value of the thing, he wasn¡¯t so quick that he had time to really consider it. ¡°They decloaked.¡± Simon broadcast to them via skulljack through Pendragon. ¡°Also, our link to the Lair dropped. No coverage out here. Switch to radio?¡± ¡°Hold off on that.¡± James ordered. ¡°We don¡¯t know what we¡¯re dealing with, I don¡¯t wanna learn they can pick up radio after the fact.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Dave, how¡¯re we doing? Is Pen okay here?¡± There was a pause before the two of them replied as one. ¡°I¡¯m alright. It¡¯s cold, though, and the snow¡¯s getting into my wings. And yeah, they¡¯re visible now. That thing looks very military! They¡¯re setting down in the camp. What do you want me to do?¡± James briefly blinked away the confusion at Dave and Pendragon¡¯s choice of the singular pronoun, before running through a list of options. ¡°We could teleport out, but this is the perfect opportunity. Can you set down nearby? What¡¯s the area look like?¡± ¡°Kind of a slope.¡± Simon reported, sweeping the area with a drone camera clung to Pendragon¡¯s underside. ¡°There¡¯s patches of snow, but it¡¯s not a blanket or anything. Their little camp looks like maybe four buildings and a dozen tents or campers. Bunch of pine. Trees, but they¡¯re all spaced out. Rocks everywhere. We also came in close to the ground; I think we¡¯re higher up, elevation wise, than we were.¡± He paused. ¡°There are people getting off the helicopter. Five of them, I think one is our guy, he¡¯s dressed different. They¡¯re going to one of the cabins.¡± ¡°Good to know. Anyone have any objections to setting down and taking a look?¡± El spoke up. ¡°I¡¯m in a fucking skirt!¡± She commented loudly. ¡°¡­Why?¡± James asked her, glancing down at his own padded and plated armor. ¡°I had a date!¡± El snapped back. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearing that a lot today.¡± James said easily. ¡°Okay. You stay in the dragon. If we really need to, we can just snag someone out of the camp and ask some pointed questions via dragon, but I¡¯d rather get in there. Everyone, gear and ready check.¡± A chorus of voices returns to him. Simon asked if they wanted a drone overhead, and a quick discussion ended with ¡®no¡¯. It was too risky, especially out here in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. Thought-Of-Quiet spoke up briefly to comment that he was looking forward to seeing if his armor plate would make moving on dirt and rocks more comfortable. Nik uttered a chant that was becoming familiar, and let his authority come to life, ready to render aid if needed. Then stomachs turned as Dave and Pendragon took them on a spiraling dive, pushing the passengers around in their seats while they descended. There was something no one told you about riding in a dragon, or at least this dragon; there wasn¡¯t exactly a magical effect that told inertia to fuck off. Dave never seemed to mind, but the rest of them got to experience a roller coaster ride as their living aircraft dropped to the wet dirt. The part of James¡¯ brain that was constantly being a giant nerd noted with some disappointment that Pendragon didn¡¯t make any kind of sci-fi hissing noise as she cracked open the breaches in her side to the carrying compartments. But he suppressed that part of himself as he hopped out, boots landing steadily and with a crunch of pine needles as he dropped. They had a quarter mile, and a lot of trees, between themselves and the weird camp, so they moved quick. If they were going to be spotted, they already had been, but that didn¡¯t mean they should linger. ¡°We¡¯re in Alaska.¡± Nik said as he stepped up next to James and Alanna, breath coming in steaming gouts as his authority coiled around his armored shoulder. ¡°According to GPS anyway.¡± ¡°Alaska isn¡¯t real.¡± Alanna joked. Momo snorted as she joined them, Thought-Of-Quiet helping her down out of Pendragon with a stabilizing mechanical limb. ¡°Don¡¯t joke about that. Someone¡¯ll take you seriously on the internet and before you know it there¡¯s a new cryptofascist thing going around.¡± ¡°Less talking.¡± James said solidly, shading his eyes against the rapidly fading daylight. Alaska meant they were three-ish hours behind, where they were a second ago, but Alaska didn¡¯t get a lot of daylight in the winter months anyway. If it was still light out at all, that meant they were in at least the southern half of the state somewhere. He swept his eyes out over the terrain in front of them, and felt a strange feeling in his chest. He was, once again, abruptly somewhere new. Somewhere with a dangerous challenge and strange secrets to uncover. It was still on Earth this time, but¡­ well, it was familiar. That was all. Pine trees and snow instead of two suns over a highway or a library with angry books in it. ¡°Thought, you good?¡± James asked the camraconda. ¡°Yes, the moving is easy like this.¡± Though-Of-Quiet answered, slithering forward, the layer of pine needles on the ground crunching under their armored body as they moved. James nodded, and glanced at the others. Reaching up, he pulled the filter mask he had to clip properly over his face, cutting off some of the cold. Briefly, he wished he¡¯d brought goggles of some kind. Or earmuffs. His body heat was keeping him feeling fine for now, and half of them did have purple orbs for temperature regulation, but they really needed to make that a standard part of the armory package. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Spread out. Keep your eyes open. Let¡¯s move.¡± The six of them started moving forward together, spreading out in pairs as they headed in the direction of the small camp. There was no road around here that James could see, as he and Alanna paused behind every other tree they passed to do a check for anyone ahead of them. On their flanks, the others were doing the same, the practice drills that Nate had run them through over the summer kicking in as they moved forward. In fact, James thought, there wasn¡¯t much of anything here in the way of signs of civilization. In the past, there¡¯d been times on some of his road trips when he¡¯d stopped on the side of the road and wandered into the forests of Oregon a little bit. It never took long to get to the point where the only thing you could see around you was trees and mast and brambles. But there was always the knowledge that there was a road nearby. Now, there was nothing. Just the subdued quiet of nature, the constant rush of the wind and the flecks of not-quite snow, and the crunch of their footsteps or slithers. James tensed when a small clump of snow fell from a nearby tree. Everyone did, really. But then nothing else happened, it was just the natural world turning around them. Cold air seeped into their armor as they pressed on, and James tried to make sure he kept his gloved fingers warm enough in case he had to pull his rifle up quickly. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Voices ahead.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice murmured softly to him, and James nodded. He¡¯d only just caught them with his enhanced hearing, and he realized that Alanna must have gotten the same armory kit that he did at some point. The two of them stopped, pulling back to kneeling positions behind a cluster of trees, and with a quick hand motion to the others, got the other two pairs to do the same. Then they waited. James trying to keep his heart from going into overdrive, and also to keep the purple orb that made his breath come in powerful bursts from ruining his mask¡¯s position. And then, after what felt like an hour but was more like a minute or two, the sound of footsteps reached them, along with speaking voices that he could actually understand. ¡°-est guy they¡¯ve got. You¡¯re a fucking idiot.¡± A man¡¯s voice, loud enough that even the other four could hear him, came through the trees during a lull in the wind. He didn¡¯t sound angry, but he was loud, his words a kind of bombastic bark that carried from however far away they were. The reply was another man, younger, with a reedier voice. ¡°Best guy? Come on! He¡¯s a fucking loser! Did you even watch last night?¡± ¡°You know I didn¡¯t.¡± The first man replied as their voices got closer. James tensed; they were coming from left to right relative to the loose line that his people had set up, but they were getting closer. ¡°Had to keep an eye on the mercs. Kennedy¡¯s fucking spooked by ¡®em.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, watch the game, then tell me he¡¯s a good goalie.¡± The second man said, just as James caught sight of the shape of two people, moving between the trees about a hundred feet ahead of them. They were wearing tan and green camo, including hooded jackets. Neither of them looked particularly imposing, compared to the literal monsters James had fought, but they were both carrying rifles. Not hunting rifles, either, he noted. Even from here, the platforms of the classic AR-15 stood out. And he was pretty sure he saw a handgun holster on one of their hips. Even if he hadn¡¯t known what they were walking into, there was no way these two were casual hunters out for a day of practice. And any hints of the illusion were broken entirely when, while one of them moved away to take a piss on a tree, the other raised a boxy radio to his mouth and spoke into it. ¡°East patrol normal.¡± James caught the words. ¡°Nothing out here today. Moving to the north perimeter. Backpack.¡± He glanced at Alanna at the last word, raising an eyebrow, but she just shrugged and shook her head. James refocused on the two as the man zipped up and they turned and started moving on at a new angle, still arguing about hockey. ¡°Those are the worst perimeter guards I¡¯ve ever seen.¡± James heard Simon murmur. James waved the others over. ¡°Okay. Momo, Thought, Alanna. You three stay here. If we need to get out fast, you¡¯re our rearguard. Simon, Nik, with me. We¡¯re gonna get closer, and if we have a window of opportunity, get into one of the cabins. Anything we can learn is a win. Telepad out at any sign of trouble.¡± He paused, then added, ¡°If you need to share anything, use the banked wi-fi on the USB sticks. No full skulljack link, text only if you can manage it.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Momo was the only one who spoke, but everyone nodded. ¡°Alright.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s go, before anyone else comes this way.¡± He rose to a hunched position, and started moving for the next tree, the other two following behind him. Bit by bit, they quickly advanced, checked around themselves, then moved on to the next piece of cover. If James had been the person he was when he first found the Office, he would have died of exhaustion after the first two trees, but as it was, he pressed on easily, and heard the two behind him doing the same. The three of them took an alert route, all those days spent in the dungeons, along with a variety of different personal improvements, leaving them not exactly comfortable, but at least familiar with the process of forward motion. Move, stop, listen, sweep for motion, proceed to a piece of cover, listen more. Move on. They weren¡¯t that far out, realistically, from the camp. And it didn¡¯t take long before they dropped down a slope, took a worn rocky footpath down past a small rock ledge, and saw where the tree ended. The camp ahead was mostly clear of snow, everywhere that wasn¡¯t an out of the way corner having the ground replaced with churned mud. Tracks from wheeled vehicles traced lines across the thick surface, and a trio of wood cabins, all of them with smoke coming out of their chimneys, formed a loose triangle around a central yard. Behind those buildings, up on a ledge that was a little less muddy, a row of heavy canvas tents sat in their own formation. The green material looked right at home in this strange spot of human activity in the middle of the wilderness. The helicopter, which James kept wanting to use a low growly voice to call a Hind D, even though that was factually inaccurate, sat in the clearing outside the chain link fence that surrounded the whole place. It might not have been a real national military funding this operation, but the gunship still had the guns on it; along with all the other random antenna and other greebles sticking off it, a pair of forward facing heavy chain guns mounted on its sides, which did not make James feel comfortable. He trusted Dave and Pendragon. He didn¡¯t ¡®fight a Russian attack helicopter¡¯ trust them. There was also a semi truck, with a double tanker trailer hooked up to it. But it had been scrubbed of any markings, in a very obvious way, and James couldn¡¯t say what it was filled with. He¡¯d be willing to bet on gas, though. ¡°Those trucks are armed.¡± Simon said in a low voice, letting James and Nik trace his line of sight to where a pair of pickup trucks were parked by the cabins. They weren¡¯t the only cars there, but they were the only ones with their own machine guns in the back. ¡°We should steal those.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t solve every problem by stealing.¡± James said as the three of them waited in the treeline in a low crouch. ¡°Probably.¡± He took a deep breath, watching the camp carefully as it got darker around them. ¡°Who do we see?¡± He asked, and looked himself for that very detail. A couple of guys standing behind a cabin, smoking and talking. Four other men moving from one of the smaller cabins to the bigger one. A meeting place, maybe? None of them were actively armed. Though the two coming back from the search party were. James focused to his right as Nik pointed them out, and the group watched as they approached a gate in the fence, and were let in by a guy who was armed, before they headed toward the same large building as the others. There were also a couple of people at the helicopter itself. And in the rapidly fading light, as the camp flicked on a few thin exterior lights that didn¡¯t do much to cut through the encroaching darkness of the Alaskan wilderness, James had a thought. ¡°The tents, the chopper, they¡¯re different people.¡± He said. Simon gave him a questioning glance, and James elaborated. ¡°They¡¯re dressed in grey fatigues, all the other men are in flannel, camo, or camo flannel.¡± ¡°Not the time for jokes.¡± Simon said simply. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know when I start joking.¡± James pointed, keeping his arm low, at the gate guard who was standing in the white pool of a spotlight, the patterning of his shirt a little too square to be anything else than what James was smirking at. Nik spoke up, trying to keep his voice at a low pitch but still audible through the mask. ¡°So, what now?¡± He asked. ¡°Crash whatever meeting they have going on?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a better idea.¡± Simon pointed at the third cabin, an L-shaped building that, unlike the other two, actually had all its internal lights off. ¡°Should at least give us a clue?¡± He prompted. James grinned, and rose to his feet. A mental nudge double checked what the multiple shield bracers he was wearing were set to, each of them different ammunition. ¡°Wait here.¡± He said. ¡°Cover me when this goes wrong.¡± ¡°Wait, how do you-¡° Nik started to say, but Simon just took a more stable kneeling position, brought his rifle up, and clicked the safety off. ¡°No, you can¡¯t just say that and¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m mostly kidding. I expect I won¡¯t be seen.¡± James grinned. ¡°But also, we¡¯ve got a great angle here. Any other guards that we can see?¡± The others confirmed that there weren¡¯t any, but there were construction lamps keeping big chunks of the fence lit. ¡°Okay. Wish me luck.¡± James took a deep breath, and called on something deep in his heart. Misadventure was a source of power for a navigator, in some way. A kind of currency to be spent to find specific things. But it wasn¡¯t the only way they grew and thrived; there were a lot of different sources for every different type of infomorph, James and the Order were learning together. And for his navigator, for the friend that shared his mind that loved to see new places and get into trouble, there was a secondary form of power to draw on. ¡°Hey Zhu.¡± James whispered, orange feathers and tail flowing out around his armor, the navigator suppressing the normal glow as he manifested in the rapidly darkening woods. ¡°Want to go cause trouble for someone?¡± ¡°Enthusiastically!¡± Zhu¡¯s thin voice was like a sneaking footstep landing near them. James couldn¡¯t help but smile a little at just how excited his infomorph companion was for this. And then, a second later, orange lines and bubbles started lighting up his vision. Not physical, not visible to anyone else. Just a path that Zhu found for him. Directions to follow, and steps to take. He didn¡¯t hesitate. Keeping one hand on his rifle to keep it from slapping against his armor and making noise, James rose to a crouch walk, triggered the earring he had that could make him invisible for a brief window, and started taking rapid steps across the open ground between their cover and the camp. He didn¡¯t realistically expect to get spotted, but his heart still hammered in his chest as he felt like any second someone was going to start shooting at him. But the people in the camp were busy, and the one guy on the gate didn¡¯t cover the whole perimeter. They were, perhaps reasonably, trusting that they either wouldn¡¯t get found, or that the fence would slow someone down enough that they could respond. James wasn¡¯t interested in making it that easy for his opposition. Instead, as he got close, he rose to a full standing jog, and triggered the aerosolized dose of one of the potions connected to his mask. Breathed deeply. Felt himself start to change in a way that tingled, stung, and generally wasn¡¯t very fun. And then he ran directly through the fence. He¡¯d asked Red once, when he¡¯d been doing his checkup on how she was adapting to her new and slightly more restricted life during her rehabilitation, what exactly the ghost juice did to people. She¡¯d scoffed at his terminology, but had a surprisingly detailed answer about how it altered human physiology to continue functioning even as large chunks of it were converted to a stabilized gaseous form. He¡¯d had more questions about how it interacted with non-human physiology, and she had replied with more test logs and observations. Then he¡¯d asked her, in a casually dull tone, why it worked on what you were wearing, and she¡¯d tried to throw a crumpled ball of paper at his head. Which was to say, James didn¡¯t know why it worked. But it worked. His boots squelched in the mud as he moved, and he followed Zhu¡¯s markers, dropping to a slower pace so he didn¡¯t slip, trusting in the footfall spots when he couldn¡¯t see the ground. James froze at one point, exactly on cue, when the gate guard glanced over in his direction. He could see the man¡¯s head as he turned toward the echo of a muddy footstep. But James wasn¡¯t moving, and out of the light, he was basically invisible to anyone who didn¡¯t have some kind of night vision. Then the guard shrugged and turned away, and James took the last twenty feet to the cabin at a casual walk, circling around the back to a window with the light off, before reaching up and grabbing onto the ledge, pulling himself upward and really leaning on his acceleration and jump height boosts to make the small hop easier. The microdose of the incorporeality potion had worn off by now, so he could easily pull himself up onto the outside of the raised building, trying not to think about how many things that ate feet could be living in the dark space underneath him. Then he triggered the potion mist again, breathed in, and let himself slip forward into the structure. Selective corporeality was a challenge, but James managed to step inside without falling through the floor, and found himself in a dark room, but with a point of glowing orange light that his eyes rapidly adjusted to. Light that wasn¡¯t from Zhu, importantly. A bathroom. Empty, of course. He didn¡¯t reach out to hit the light switch, but just the fact that there was a night light in here, and a light switch in general, felt weird. These were cabins in the middle of nowhere, and there hadn¡¯t been a generator or power lines outside. What kept these things powered? A question for another time. He stepped forward, hyper-aware of the muddy trail he was leaving, and pressed himself up to the door. Silence greeted him, as he turned the loose metal knob, and eased the thin wooden door inward. The hallway was just as dark as the bathroom; darker even. And while James had a lot of weird powers, night vision wasn¡¯t one of them. Glowing in the dark was, and he might actually have been visible here with the night getting this dark, but fortunately he was wrapped up in his armor and mask almost entirely. He breathed out a slow relieved exhalation, and prodded Zhu to help him out. The infomorph responded, drawing lines for walls and floors, giving James a sort of skeleton map of the building that was pitch black in front of him. There was some kind of big open room to his right, and a few more doors leading to maybe bedrooms or something else to his left. James didn¡¯t want to risk a flashlight until he knew the place was actually empty, so he snuck down the hall to the left, wincing at the creak of the floorboards, before he approached the first door and eased it open. A bedroom of some kind, cramped, bunk beds. The next room was the same. Both of them empty. ¡°I think we¡¯re alone.¡± Zhu said to James, the unreal voice making James flinch at how loud it was, even if he was the only one who could hear. But he was right. So James did flick on the flashlight on the end of his rifle, and used it to sweep the bedroom. The one without a window in it. A bunk bed, both beds unmade, blankets tangled around each other. Two desks, one of them heaped high with two stacks of copies of a book titled Priority Earth, the other a mess of documents and pens, folded maps and printouts of web pages. James ran a finger across the desk¡¯s surface, and came away with a thick layer of dust. ¡°The hell?¡± He muttered. A quick glance at the long untouched pile of books gave him pause, and he slid one out of the center of one of the stacks to slide into a leg pouch to take with him. He checked the dresser, noting the pictures on it of a boy next to an old man holding up a fish and bearing wide smiles, and another of a young girl playing with a dog. The drawers held clothing that was more or less what he¡¯d expect for someone living in Alaska, though there was something off about them he couldn¡¯t place. And they also seemed to have been here for a while. As he swung the light around the room, something else caught his eye. A dark splotch near the corner where the wall met the floor. James knelt slowly, still trying to keep quiet just in case, and panned his light over it. It definitely looked like a blood splatter, and the skill ranks he had in investigation and forensics more or less confirmed it as he checked over it. Someone was at least seriously injured here, and then the room was just¡­ left? He rose back up, flicking the light off and trusting Zhu to guide him to the next door as they left the bedroom. His steps still sounded too-loud in the silent, dark building. Still staying away from the front room, the duo headed for the door at the end of the hall. James pushed against it, but found the door wouldn¡¯t move, even though the knob turned. He quirked an eyebrow, and felt confusion from Zhu as well. But that was fine, after all, the door wasn¡¯t important. He turned to leave, and Zhu tugged his brain back to that thought. The door wasn¡¯t important? Kind of a weird thing to muse on when you¡¯re infiltrating a place and opening doors. The door that absolutely didn¡¯t matter wasn¡¯t much of an obstacle, once James focused on dealing with it; after all, if you could solve one problem with being incorporeal, you could solve a lot of problems by being incorporeal. Slipping through the door and feeling his fingers and toes itch as he faded back to physical, James looked around the storage room he¡¯d found himself in. Light from one of the perimeter floodlights came in from both the windows, the glass squares on both walls at a right angle to each other rattling in the wind. So at least he could see a little bit, and Zhu helped by painting the outline of filing cabinets and storage chests. He glanced behind himself. The door wasn¡¯t blocked at all. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see¡­¡± He whispered, tugging open a filing cabinet with as much stealth as he could use on the cold metal. He settled his rifle across the open drawer and flicked the flashlight on, creating a puddle of light down among the folders and pages, but not spilling out to the rest of the room or the windows. And then he started opening documents, and seeing what was worth protecting with a mild memeplex. Blueprints for a coal fueled power plant. Maps showing air quality shifts over time. Accounting or logistical reports on¡­ power usage? James couldn¡¯t understand everything he found. But he could easily identify a dossier when he saw one, and there were several in here. Many of them with small annotations and additions in pencil at the bottom, the tone for the subjects changing from professional to personal over time. Others were grimly marked with red lines across pictures and bold ¡°target achieved¡± lettering across the top. And then, what he was secretly hoping for. A copy of a report on actual, literal magic. Stored next to the broad strokes minutes of a meeting talking about the actual, literal magic. The folder for that section was thick, and he didn¡¯t have time to read over the whole thing. But he got the gist of it. They were confused, alarmed, and excited. The world had felt like it had opened up to them with the possibilities. James checked the next drawer, and found more of the same. There didn¡¯t seem to be a pattern to how stuff was stored, but as he worked through it, he started to put together that it flowed like a timeline. This was years of operational records. He checked one of the chests, one of the ones that wasn¡¯t padlocked that is, and found rolled up blueprints for a bunch of small scale structures. Cabins. The familiarity he had with the arcane notation of architecture from a skill orb clashing with the alien nature of the runes drawn around the blueprints, the smell of salt and ozone coming off them more as a vibe than a physical scent. James desperately wanted to bring those with him, but he had no way to carry the large pages safely. So he set them back, after storing memory pictures of them through his skulljack braid, like he had with everything else. As he was carefully lowering the lid of the chest, he caught sight of something. In the triangle of white light coming through the window, James saw a boot and the leg of thick winter pants sticking out from behind the empty wooden shelf at the end of the room. His heart leapt into his throat, and he snapped his bullpup up to cover whoever was lurking there, but as the beam of his flashlight fell on the figure, he realized his mistake. Whoever this was had been dead for a long time. James flicked his light off and circled around, getting a better view of the corpse that had been rotting here for what must have been quite a while. He was, sadly, no stranger to death at this point. But while he¡¯d seen people die, and taken lives himself, there was something grim and terrifying about the shape of a rotting face; any sense of identity or personhood stolen away by the simple act of time moving forward. Before the empty pit that always accompanied these thoughts could open up in his stomach, James moved closer to the body. ¡°What happened to them?¡± Zhu asked him in a sadly curious tone like steps on creaking stairs. James reached out and moved the figure¡¯s hand off of where it was pressed against their outer layer of clothing, the remnant of what was once a human too light and too easy to shift around. ¡°This, I¡¯d guess.¡± He murmured as he revealed the stained hole in the parka. He set their hand down gently in their lap and then paused, not sure what to do next. Did he say something? Did he pay respects to the dead? Why was this person even here? His hesitation was why he was looking down at the floor, and the figure¡¯s other hand. And why his lingering eyes noticed that the person was holding something tightly in their grip. A rectangular piece of electronic hardware that James winced as he tried to gently extract, and may have broken a few fingers doing so. ¡°Magic?¡± Zhu asked him as James turned over the dictation recorder in his hands, the boxy electronic looking like it came from a couple decades ago. Which didn¡¯t mean much; James could probably have bought something like this off the internet today, if he wanted. But it might help establish a timeline. He shook his head at the navigator. ¡°Not magic, probably. Unless making the world work on Bioshock logic is a spell.¡± He sighed, and tucked the small device into a pouch on his armor, fingers both gloved and frozen making him take a minute to get it right. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s check the main room, then get out of here.¡± He said. James rose back up to his feet, and took careful steps past the rows of storage toward the strange door that didn¡¯t want to be important. It didn¡¯t hit as hard on this side, and he could actually identify the weird feeling, which was generally a sign that whatever antimeme was happening wasn¡¯t actively targeting him, but James still hated it. He was halfway through the door, passing through it rather than trying to open something that might trip a magical alarm, when Zhu started to say something. ¡°¡­wait!¡± The navigator¡¯s voice was abruptly worried. James pulled himself the rest of the way out of the solid material, then froze. He didn¡¯t say anything, waiting for Zhu to tell him what was wrong. The creak of a floorboard sounded. At the end of the hall, so close. James felt his blood go cold as he inched his head to the side in tiny motions, holding his breath as he did so. But the pitch dark hall, with the distant faint light coming through the windows in the main room, was all he saw. Another creak. A plastic snap. ¡°Duck!¡± Zhu screamed, voice accompanied by a series of motion lines for James to follow. James dropped to his knees, Zhu¡¯s feathered tail shoving him forward into an awkward roll as the sound of gunshots exploded in the tight hallway. One, two, three pistol shots. So close and so loud they may as well have been a cannon for as well as James¡¯ hearing handled it. Behind and over him, the window shattered, sending broken glass spraying outward and freezing wind coming into the already cold building. Wood chips showered his armored back as the other bullets hit the wall, the shooter tracing downward to try to hit him. The fourth shot lit up the hallway in a flare of golden light as one of James¡¯ shields triggered, and he got a brief look at his attacker. The stern and emotionless face of a short Hispanic woman in those same grey fatigues the second group wore stared him down, her eyes unflinching against the sudden flare of light. Which was a mistake; James was modified to handle flares like this, but she was just trying to keep her eyes forced open, and it was going to ruin any night vision she had. Then his shield started to hum, in a painful way, before the bullet fully deflected and it snapped off. His ears ringing from multiple sources of sound, he barely got his rifle up and pressed the trigger before she took another shot at him. A burst of bullets sprayed down the hallway, and this time, James actually caused damage to the woman ambushing him. He¡¯d gotten so used to this not working, he was almost surprised when she jerked from the impacts, and then slowly dropped to her knees with a wooden creak. James stood and pressed himself against the wall, panting heavily. His hands ached, and he took a breath of the exercise potion, letting a small amount of the pain fade away as he did so, his breath steadying. With a mental nudge, he opened up the file on the USB plugged into the compact electronics of his skulljack braid, and started using the stored connection in it. The other devices on the saved connection, the skulljacks of his party, lit up in his mind. James didn¡¯t waste bandwidth, instead just sending a fast text message. ¡°I¡¯m made. Leaving now, same angle. Get ready to go.¡± He got back a set of affirmatives from the others, including Pendragon, and then close the link again, about eighty percent of the internet supply left. Then he moved to check the dead woman. Which was a mistake. As soon as James took a step, the enemy combatant who was not dead and was merely dropped to her knees, made James¡¯ position from the sound, and took a shot at him. And this one was something different. The shield flared to life, but it screamed as the bullet tried to break through; normal physics suspended for a brief moment as momentum and foreign magic warred with the bracer on James¡¯ upper arm. He flinched back, cracking off a reflexive shot at his opponent and taking a chunk out of the woman¡¯s skull that resolved itself in painful detail against the harsh light. But even as she dropped backward, the bullet punched through, the Status Quo item not holding against it. It hit James in the right collarbone, burned away at least one of his defensive purple uses for preventing breaking bones, and deflected up, tearing into the muscle and flesh of his neck and painting the floor in front of him with a spray of his own blood. The sudden burning pain of being shot ramping up rapidly as the extent of it caught up to him, a strangled and pained scream coming from James¡¯ throat as he clamped a hand over the wound. ¡°Out of time! Run!¡± Zhu ordered him, and James tried to nod, but stopped as the pain surged through his neck. He triggered the breathable potion, and slipped out the back wall, using up one of the last earring charges for invisibility for a while. Outside, as he stumbled forward, leaving his blood on the muddy ground to be lost in the darkness, the camp had gotten a little more chaotic. Men ran back and forth, one of them handing out guns from a metal cabinet on the side of a wall, and shouting filled the air. The sound of an engine starting was followed by someone driving one of the technicals to the edge of the fence, the man in the back sweeping the treeline past the camp with the machine gun, the heavy thuds of gunfire hammering as a dull and dizzy noise in James¡¯ ears. They weren¡¯t firing in the right direction. So he kept breathing ghost potion, stumbled through the fence and up the slope to where he¡¯d left Simon and Nik. The two of them weren¡¯t there, but a flash of green light from Nik¡¯s authority led him farther back into the trees to where they were waiting. James got around a thick double trunk of a tree, and dropped down next to Nik, barely ripping his mask off with a spray of potion into the air before he vomited onto the dirt. ¡°I guess we should have believed you when you said¡­¡± Nik started to say jokingly, but then immediately cut himself off. ¡°Oh, fuck.¡± He snapped. ¡°Aidamy!¡± The name of his authority was said with a strong urgency, and the glove around Nik¡¯s hand unfurled into an abstract fractal of EKG readings. The medic pressed his hand forward against James¡¯ neck, and green tendrils painfully shot into his wound, scouring away outside debris, plucking out what was left of the bullet, and sealing flesh shut. Then Nik sucked in a deep breath and scooped up a handful of nearby snow, pressing it against the temporarily sealed wound, before invoking a Climb spell and letting the frozen liquid in his hand convert itself to James¡¯ own blood, flowing into his body and replenishing what was lost, before Nik let out an exhausted and shivering gasp and settling back. ¡°That¡¯ll¡­ hold for now.¡± He wheezed. James coughed away the last of his own vomit, and tried to steady his own breathing. ¡°Thanks.¡± He gasped. ¡°Simon?¡± ¡°Distracting them.¡± Simon¡¯s voice came from nearby. ¡°We need to go.¡± He said. ¡°Yeah.¡± James agreed. ¡°Zhu, can you guide them too?¡± ¡°If you let me.¡± The navigator spoke to the group. Simon and Nik nodded instantly. The three of them got back to their feet, two of them a little worse for wear, and started running through the dark woods toward their escape route, their feet never missing their mark. Without trying to be stealthy, they made it past the other three, and into Pendragon, in minutes. Alanna swore rapidly as she saw James¡¯ covered in blood as they boarded the dragon, but they were in the air he could explain. He¡¯d certainly learned something. But it hadn¡¯t gone exactly like James thought it would. Chapter 214 ¡°Worlds become real when we care about them, not when they look similar to our own.¡± -Alex Golub, Being in the World (of Warcraft): Raiding, Realism, and Knowledge Production in a Massively Multiplayer Online Game- _____ ¡°What the fuck happened?¡± Alanna asked as they took off, Pendragon¡¯s wingbeats pushing what felt like solid bars of cold air through the closing flaps of her flank as she and Dave eschewed petty things like safety regulations in favor of a quick escape. ¡°I must have screwed up somewhere.¡± James said. ¡°Used a light¡­ ow¡­ by a window. Tripped an alarm. Whaaaaataahhhh¡­ whatever.¡± He was panting heavily; despite not actively bleeding to death, the mix of an adrenaline crash and a sharp pain through his neck where a bullet had gone in and then been yanked out, left him feeling pretty awful. ¡°My fault, whatever it was.¡± ¡°James, I can¡¯t hear you!¡± Alanna called over the rising noise of shifting dragon as Pendragon¡¯s wings worked them into the air. He hadn¡¯t noticed before, when he could raise his voice properly, but it was actually pretty loud riding like this. James swallowed, and tried again. ¡°I got spotted!¡± He said, voice only cracking a bit. ¡°One of the second group, the grey shirts. I think I killed her, but she shot right through the bracer.¡± He tried to call up the statistics of his shield bracers to see if he could tell what went wrong, and was a little alarmed when only three of them responded. He raised a hand to poke at his armor, where the bracer would have been underneath, and felt bits of broken metal shift around, poking into his skin. ¡°Right through it.¡± He added. ¡°Holy shit, she hit me so hard the bracer blew up.¡± ¡°James,¡± Dave and Pendragon¡¯s voice rumbled down the interior of their body, ¡°teleport us out now please.¡± ¡°Right.¡± James cut off. Explanations could come later. He fumbled a hand up to his mouth and pulled his glove off with his teeth, moving shaking fingers to the pouch he kept his telepad in, to get them out of there. His hand came back sticky. ¡°Oh!¡± He said with an amount of surprise. ¡°Oh what?¡± Momo demanded from the seat next to him. James nodded like a lot of things made sense now. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve been shot again. Or was shot again? I got shot twice. This explains a lot.¡± He said. ¡°Why the fuck are you so calm about being shot?!¡± Momo and Alanna yelled roughly in unison. Some of the words were a little different between them, but the idea was the same. The reason that he wanted to explain was that it meant he knew why he felt an uncomfortable ache in a weird place, which was now ramping up to a much more noticable cutting pain. It was good to know what was wrong, and besides, Nik could fix it, and James had three ranks in Endurance now. He was pretty sure that as long as he needed to keep going, a bullet wound wasn¡¯t actually enough to hurt him that badly any more. But he didn¡¯t say that, because there was a more pressing issue to relay. ¡°Uh, my telepad got shot too.¡± He called out, pulling a blue orb out of his pouch from where the bullet had shredded the magic item. ¡°Anyone else got one?¡± ¡°I do, hang on.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Well, use it fast.¡± Pendragon¡¯s rumbling growl overtook Dave¡¯s more human voice. ¡°Because that Hind just took off. And it¡¯s heading right for us.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a-¡° James started to say, but was drowned out by the rest of the team speaking up. Outside, Dave and Pendragon snapped her neck back to face forward as the MI-24 closed on her and things rapidly turned chaotic. It was interesting, to their shared mind. Together, both of them were smarter, in different ways than each of their disparate minds were familiar with. Pendragon could think in broader concepts, could see bigger pictures. Strategic thinking became possible, things like forming multiple plans for evading or killing a Russian surplus attack helicopter. For Dave, thinking became more fluid, more cunning, more reflexive. The ability to natively grasp and react to emotions and small cues from others suddenly becoming natural as he had Pendragon slipped together. It made for a powerful combination. But even still, when they were linked, they tended to think of themselves as ¡®Dave and Pendragon¡¯. When someone started shooting at them, though, that slipped away. They slipped deeper into each other. Two minds working together truly became one mind with two bodies, and even then, the two bodies thing was mostly just semantics. Together, they could react faster, think quicker, and fly better than either of them could alone. And that was happening now. But also, this time, they had passengers who wanted in on the fun. Minds started to spark to life in their network, the secure connections Pendragon had built into her body being brought to life as fumbling hands snapped cables into place. And the passengers rapidly converted to ¡®crew¡¯ as they added their own individual talents to the chase. The attack helicopter was, it turned out, faster than Pendragon. Quick math and a piece of trivia from someone in their network showed that the enemy vehicle was rapidly getting up to a speed of about 200 mph, and Pendragon capped out at 90 when she was feeling energetic. And it could obviously see them; as Dave¡¯s part of their tactical mind guided the combined entity on a sweeping curve that took them behind a line of raised trees on a hill, the attack helicopter just pivoted to cut a straight line toward them. So they abandoned stealth. Dropping the hold on the magic organ that kept them from reflecting light, and instead opening up their wings to their full length. Looking nothing like a conventional aircraft might give the opposition pause. It didn¡¯t. But it might have obscured Simon and Nik launching a dozen drones around them, tiny eyes that provided more and more information as they listened to Alanna swear when she dropped her telepad. ¡°Someone get us out of here!¡± The dragon yelled as their pursuer opened fire. An interesting quirk of the shield bracers was that you had to actually have an attack pass through them before you could block it. Which meant, after the line of tracer rounds caught up to them while they were mid-diving roll, the first few slammed into Pendragon¡¯s back. They¡¯d never tested the limits of the binder that she¡¯d eaten months ago. The one that was part of her spine now, that converted kinetic force to paperwork. And now, they got a chance. Inside, someone screamed something in panic as the machine gun fire started to hit, but outside, Pendragon snapped her wings out of the roll, and felt them flourish outward as they tripled in size, before the bracer¡¯s Dave¡¯s body was wearing kicked in on automatic and the bright gold segments of a dome started deflecting the incoming fire. They took a low swoop, snapping off smaller trees near the ground and shedding the mundane paper that was molting from her wings like crumpled snow as they took a straight line underneath the oncoming aircraft. Dirt and snow kicked up in a plume near where Pendragon¡¯s chest almost kissed the floor of the Earth before a powerful beat of their wings sent them on a new trajectory. From their side, holding on with a half dozen mechanical limbs, Thought-Of-Quiet leaned out and looked up, locking the helicopter in place for long enough for Pendragon to pass. Only a brief window, but a reprieve from the machine gun fire. It didn¡¯t work to dodge it, but it did buy some time where they were moving in a straight stable line. The MI-24 just pivoted, and Pendragon felt a part of her mind chastise itself for forgetting how helicopters worked. Then, with a flare of fire, one of the missiles underneath it launched. The drones outside the dragon noticed it instantly, and Simon, who was a master at skulljack piloting by now, interposed three of them between the missile and Pendragon. It plowed through the first one like it wasn¡¯t there, but the second one was loaded with one of Momo¡¯s context bombs, and something about it must have confused the missile¡¯s guidance system. Either that or they just got lucky with James and Momo leaning out of their flank and firing back under their wing, because it detonated a few hundred meters behind them. Then, through a fumbling connection as they swept across the terrain, trying to gain altitude without losing speed, El offered a solution. Pendragon accepted without hesitation. Handed the girl a set of mental controls that they were familiar sharing. And then, with a new ¡®pilot¡¯ installed, let El¡¯s magic kick in. A spell from Route Horizon that bolstered the speed of anything she was driving, and gave her the reflexes to make it work. She used it twice in a row, overlapping the magic and rapidly taking them up to almost double the speed of their pursuit. And with the wider angle on the untamed land behind them, Though-Of-Quiet directed them into a banking sweep that let him focus on the helicopter for almost a whole minute. They¡¯d made the mistake of shedding their momentum to line up a shot, and the camraconda took advantage of it by stopping them from chasing. ¡°Got it!¡± Alanna¡¯s voice sounded after what felt like an eternity but was actually more like forty seconds. And then, abruptly, they were somewhere else. Still dark, still cold, but the constant low wind and spitting sleet was replaced by high powered gusts. The combined entity that was Dave and Pendragon plucked control back from El, and elicited shouts and grunts from their passengers as they banked upward. Wings and tail spread, tugged painfully by air resistance at the speeds they were going, as they shed velocity rapidly. They twisted as a wing joint pulled with a sharp jolt of pain, and turned the motion into a spiraling descent. Yes, the people riding along would be tossed around a bit, but that was preferably to crashing into the highway overpass they¡¯d gotten close to. It took a couple minutes to figure out their position from the roads and lights below them, but as soon as they did, it didn¡¯t take long even with a hurting wing to get back to the Lair. They¡¯d emerged from the teleport near it anyway, and with the constant decrease in how long it took to return, it wasn¡¯t long before they were landing on the roof. As Dave and Pendragon¡¯s shared mind pulled itself apart, and left behind small notes of complex emotions that neither of them really felt that well on their own in each other, Dave unclipped his skulljack and slid out of his partner¡¯s torso with a question on his mind. ¡°Hey,¡± he asked James as he circled around Pendragon and offered his friend a hand down from her flank, ¡°does the travel time green in this place help with teleporting to it? Like, if we hadn¡¯t had it, would Alanna have fumbled her telepad and it would have taken another five minutes or something?¡± James stared at him with a look Dave didn¡¯t really identify. ¡°I¡¯ve been shot, and you ask me that?¡± He asked. Dave thought for a second as Thought-Of-Quiet and Nikhail rushed over to them. ¡°Uh¡­ are you okay?¡± He asked James. ¡°Oh yeah, I¡¯¡¯m fine.¡± James gave a laugh that rapidly turned into a gasp and him clutching at his torso. ¡°Also go ask someone in Research, I¡¯ve gotta get taken to the hopsital.¡± Dave nodded at him, and James held up a hand to the camraconda before he got frozen to be safely moved. ¡°And¡­ thanks.¡± James added. ¡°For getting us out of there. Good job.¡± He held up a hand, and Dave gave a grin as he returned the weak high five. ¡°Alright, Thought, do the thing so I don¡¯t bleed anymore on the way downstairs.¡± James said, before the camraconda promptly fixed his gaze on him and stopped all his movement. Including that of his leaking blood. Alanna carried him the rest of the way down into the building, and to the elevator to their basement. James didn¡¯t remember much of it, which was good, because Deb wasn¡¯t exactly happy with him when they showed up in her hospital. _____ James hadn¡¯t exactly lost consciousness. Or at least, so he assumed. He had a kind of blurry impression of Alanna helping him get his armor off, and Nik using his Climb spell to put more blood back into him, an oxygen mask settled over the younger man¡¯s face as he did so. He also remembered that it had stung when Deb had done a more professional job stitching up his wounds than the Aidimy¡¯s rough sealing. But he couldn¡¯t quite fill in all the blanks to how he¡¯d gotten into one of the white beds they used in the medical wing. That was fine, though. It was a little too cold here, but he noticed Alanna and Anesh outside the window, talking to each other, and he felt fine. Especially since he wasn¡¯t bleeding anymore. The absolute wall that James felt like he ran into, when Endurance stopped working, was something he really needed to be more aware of. The limitation of the lesson¡¯s reward seemed to have only gotten more dramatic with its new level. Before, if he pushed himself, and then had some downtime, it faded away slowly. Now, he could go a lot farther with the effect, including sprinting a half mile through the woods with a bullet in his torso, but as soon as he wasn¡¯t pushing anymore, it was like dropping off a cliff. No easy fading back to normal for him, anymore. His partners joined him as soon as they noticed he was alert. ¡°Hey.¡± Anesh said with a smile that camouflaged his anxiety. ¡°I hear you had a small adventure.¡± ¡°Is that how Alanna described my heroics?¡± James asked, letting his voice stay quite as he realized how much it actually hurt to talk. Alanna cleared her throat. ¡°Well, no.¡± She said. ¡°I told him you did something stupid, and he assumed it was noble or something. When in reality, you took a dumb risk for no reason, and got shot. Twice.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t for no reason.¡± James said, his mouth a flat line. ¡°We needed actual intel. Someone tried to kill one of us, I wasn¡¯t gonna just¡­¡± ¡°I know.¡± Anesh said, setting a hand on James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Alanna¡¯s taking the piss, don¡¯t stress yourself.¡± He said with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay. Deb said it wasn¡¯t too bad, but still.¡± James gave a tiny nod. He knew how Anesh felt, really. ¡°Still. I think it was worth it.¡± ¡°How, exactly?¡± Alanna asked, folding her arms. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d like to know that too.¡± JP¡¯s voice joined them as the sharp faced man slid the door to James¡¯ hospital room open and poked his head in. ¡°You wearing pants? I don¡¯t wanna come in if you¡¯re not wearing pants.¡± ¡°I am¡­¡± James paused and checked under the blanket that was covering his lower body. ¡°Yes, I am wearing pants.¡± He said. ¡°As far as you know.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± JP stepped in, leaving the door open to the white tiled hallway outside and letting the low chatter of the two medical staff on duty and a few beeping machines form a blanket of background noise. ¡°I¡¯m here to debrief you. Nate¡¯s got everyone else. Alanna, he actually wanted to talk to you, too, when you have a minute.¡± James¡¯ partner raised her eyebrows. ¡°Not you?¡± She asked. ¡°I mean, half of what I¡¯m here to do is make digital copies of James¡¯ stored memories, so it¡¯s not really a group activity.¡± JP said with a trademark smile. The kind of smile that put someone at ease, if they hadn¡¯t met JP before. ¡°You can stick around, obviously. Though if you do head up, let Arrush know he doesn¡¯t actually have to keep lurking around outside if he¡¯s worried.¡± ¡°You could have done that.¡± James pointed out. ¡°You obviously¡­¡± ¡°Not my department!¡± JP said, setting the thin laptop he was carrying on the rolling cart next to James¡¯ bed. ¡°I¡¯ll-¡° Anesh started to say, but Alanna cut him off. ¡°I¡¯ll get him.¡± She said, guiding Anesh with one still-armored hand back toward a padded chair up against the wall. ¡°You stay with him, JP¡¯s right, I should go to Nate¡¯s debrief anyway while it¡¯s all fresh.¡± Alanna turned her head toward James and gave him a fragile smile. ¡°Glad you¡¯re okay, though.¡± She said, before turning and heading out of the room. ¡°Is she alright?¡± James asked Anesh. ¡°We were worried about you.¡± His boyfriend said simply. ¡°You know Alanna¡¯s not as tough as she pretends to be, you¡¯ve been her.¡± James gave a nod, lips pursed. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s true. I shoulda realized. She¡¯s gonna be feeling like me being hurt is her fault, and terrified of experiencing loss again. I should¡­ we should talk to her later.¡± ¡°This is a fascinating look at how your relationship works,¡± JP said, looking up from the laptop screen, ¡°but¡­ uh¡­ can you wait for me to leave?¡± He half-asked, half-demanded. ¡°No.¡± Anesh and James said in unison. ¡°Great.¡± JP said, passing James a skulljack cable. ¡°Here.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s get through this quick. Nate¡¯ll have more specific questions for you, I¡¯m just here to get an archive to take upstairs.¡± Then, after getting Anesh to stop holding James¡¯ hand because it was messing with the memory imprints, JP started running through the events of the last couple hours with James. Asking specific questions about things James had seen, asking him to focus on details like faces, clothing, building styles, things like that. Especially he had questions about the documents that James had gone over. James had a bunch of saved visual snapshots stored in his skulljack braid, which he transferred over, but he also added his own memories of stepping into the different rooms of the cabin, just in case someone else could make sense of details that he¡¯d passed over. ¡°Do you have that recorder on you?¡± JP asked when James brought up finding the body in the cloaked storage room. ¡°It¡¯s in my armor.¡± James said. ¡°Along with the book I took.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± JP nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll probably be upstairs for a while, so come up if you¡¯re feeling recovered and Deb lets you escape. And, I dunno, anything we should focus on?¡± James closed his eyes and tilted his head back into the rough pillow. ¡°Uh¡­ check the images for the blueprints they had. I dunno if it comes across in the memory file, but they felt off. Like, the same way magic feels off, off.¡± He thought about swinging his vision back to JP, but decided he was comfortable now posed like he was taking a particularly aggressive nap. ¡°Also there was definitely something weird about the people, but I have no idea what. Ask Simon and Nik, they got a wide angle view, and¡­¡± ¡°He¡¯s gone, you know.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice drifted to James. ¡°And you¡¯re muttering.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Oh.¡± James blearily pulled his eyes open and tilted himself sideways to look at his boyfriend. ¡°Sorry, guess I¡¯m more tired than I thought.¡± ¡°You did get shot, twice.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice was quiet, and James could hear the unspoken fear, lacing his words and painted on his face. ¡°And I think it¡¯s time we asked, now, seriously, if maybe abandoning this hunt would be worth it.¡± His voice had a pressure to it that James didn¡¯t hear often from his boyfriend. A kind of implication that it wasn¡¯t just time to think about it, but that they were going to spend time seriously talking about it, and lean toward dropping the whole mess. Even addled on painkillers he must have taken at some point, James caught the concern. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He reassured Anesh. ¡°Really. Really! I¡¯m kinda tired, and I think Deb gave me something too strong, but¡­ actually, hang on, I have an idea.¡± He focused. Changed his perspective. He needed to get through this conversation, needed to finish talking to Anesh. James made himself know that he couldn¡¯t be sitting here in bed. And as he did so, he felt Endurance start to kick in again. The strange stat upgrade not making him less tired, but making him more capable of pushing through it. Driving back the fog from the painkiller and the ache from the wounds. And then, linking up in strange ways with some of the purple orbs enhancing his body already. Pushing his shell to replace his blood faster, to seal the stitched wounds with clotted blood and regenerating flesh. Not a superhuman feat, exactly, but fast enough that it would be noticeable, and useful. James pushed himself up, kicking limply at the blankets on his legs as he tried to stand. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go¡­ talk to the others.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± ¡°Are you¡­ quite sure?¡± Anesh asked with a raised eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t want to just lay here and relax? See how many times Arrush is going to pace by the room before he comes in?¡± ¡°Wait what?¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Oh, yes, he¡¯s done it twice now. It¡¯s cute, actually. I think I¡¯m starting to really understand you and Alanna, in a way.¡± James faltered in his mental push to ¡®keep going¡¯, and felt his brain start to drift. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did you not before?¡± ¡°I mean specifically!¡± Anesh gave a small laugh. ¡°That whole incident where you were encouraging me to date someone else, and I was¡­ oh, I don¡¯t know, not getting it I suppose. But it¡¯s a lot easier to understand when I¡¯m living your side of it, not just hearing you explain it.¡± ¡°Do I explain things bad?¡± James asked. Then realized something else. ¡°Sorry, hang on. What is happening here?¡± With bushy eyebrows pushed up as far his face as they could go, Anesh looked at James incredulously. ¡°Are you¡­ wow, Alanna¡¯s not the only one who can¡¯t¡­ okay, this is hilarious. James, Arrush is very into you. Have you not noticed? He¡¯s infatuated. An Arrush crush if you will.¡± ¡°¡­What?¡± James lost his faltering grip on his mental state, and slumped back onto the bed. ¡°Wait¡­ really?¡± ¡°I¡¯m kinda surprised you didn¡¯t notice.¡± Anesh told him with a kind smile. ¡°We can talk about it later. For now, unless I made you too uncomfortable, I¡¯m gonna tell Arrush to stop sneaking past and just come in here.¡± ¡°I¡­ yeah, okay.¡± James said, head spinning for two reasons. ¡°Yeah. And I¡¯m¡­ gonna take a nap, I think.¡± ¡°You do that.¡± Anesh patted his boyfriend¡¯s hand as he rose to open the door. ¡°Everyone will be fine without your constant supervision for a few minutes.¡± He really did believe that, too. Especially since every time James was engaged in constant supervision of something dangerous, his boyfriend kept ending up shot, or corroded, or stabbed, or subsumed into a hostile hive mind, or something. It was always something. Anesh watched James as his eyes closed and he rapidly slipped into a light sleep, and sighed. It was always something, wasn¡¯t it? He didn¡¯t know how to feel about the way their lives had turned out. About how every week, it seemed like the man he loved with more than one heart was stumbling back into their home bleeding, and every other week, Anesh was there with him getting shot at himself. It terrified him. He wasn¡¯t like James, he wasn¡¯t actually afraid of death. But he was afraid of losing the people in his life. And he didn¡¯t know how to say it. He certainly wasn¡¯t going to wake James up now to tell him about it. So instead, he took a few quiet steps over to the sliding door to the replicated hospital room, slid it open, and tapped a passing Arrush on one of his arms. ¡°Hey.¡± Anesh said quietly, wincing as the big ratroach that he had to tilt his head up to look at flinched. ¡°Would you mind keeping an eye on James while I go deal with something?¡± ¡°Ah¡­ ye¡­yes?¡± Arrush stammered in a rasping attempt at keeping his own voice down. Anesh smiled at him, a new and comfortable feeling blooming in his chest. ¡°Great. I¡¯ll be back in a bit.¡± _____ James hadn¡¯t ended up joining them for the debriefing, but that was fine. Hours later, Nate, JP, and Ben, along with a handful of other rogues or support staff that were lingering around the warehouse in case they were needed, sat in the back of the Lair and tried to make sense of everything. Ben opened his eyes, mentally moving away from the memory records they¡¯d gotten off of James and the others. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong with this.¡± He said. ¡°Ya think?¡± JP asked, not bothering to look up from the oversized paperback he was leafing through, his feet up on the desk next to them, chair tilted back at an angle that made everyone within a half mile nervous. Nate resisted the urge to kick JP¡¯s chair out from under him. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of shit wrong with this.¡± He said. ¡°So you¡¯re gonna have to pick something specific.¡± He was rolling over the recorder that James had brought back in one hand. It had needed new batteries, but it had played just fine, and it hadn¡¯t made anyone happier. ¡°Hang on.¡± Ben sighed, sending a prompt across the skulljack to replay a specific thing, so he could try to figure out what was bothering him. ¡°While he¡¯s doing that.¡± JP said, not looking up from his new book. ¡°Can I just say, I expected ecoterrorists to have a bit more panache?¡± He flicked a finger against the corner of one page. ¡°Listen to this. ¡®The Earth is more than a resource, it is a living entity. We must strive to put the needs of the world itself above any others, including ourselves.¡¯ And then a deeply detailed attached chart of carbon emissions over time. Like, okay, I get it. But this is just¡­ it¡¯s boring? It¡¯s so dry, and even if I were interested in assassinating car company CEOs, this wouldn¡¯t convince me to go with these guys.¡± ¡°Sure, they¡¯re hippies who believe in nature spirits.¡± Nate stared over at JP, who caught some of the older man¡¯s gaze out of the corner of his eye. ¡°But you can¡¯t honestly say, now, that the Earth isn¡¯t a living spirit or some shit.¡± ¡°Sure I can.¡± JP deflected instantly. ¡°I might be wrong, but I can say it.¡± ¡°¡­Fucks sake¡­¡± Nate muttered. He wasn¡¯t feeling particularly like engaging JP at this time. What had been recorded, and the picture they were putting together, was a little too grim for him to be making jokes. He wasn¡¯t like JP or James, he didn¡¯t deflect from shitty situations with snark. He faced it, got really angry, and then got drunk later. JP didn¡¯t notice, or care, what Nate was going through. ¡°Look, from what we saw, James found this book in a stack of the things that hadn¡¯t been touched. I think even they knew their literature sucked.¡± The words made Nate frown, and he depressed the rewind button on the tape recorder in his hands. ¡°Aw, man, don¡¯t play that again.¡± JP sighed. ¡°No, there was something¡­¡± Nate said, and hit the replay button. A woman¡¯s voice started speaking. What might have been the perfect voice for a stern librarian or a particularly unpleasant middle manager rendered disturbingly human, twisted into a higher pitch by a pain that had her panting rapidly between words. ¡°My name is Lily Cane. I¡¯m a freedom fighter. If you find this¡­ if you find this, I¡¯m dead. I¡¯m dying. I¡­¡± Nate fast forwarded a few seconds. ¡°¡­don¡¯t know what happened. Maybe they turned him. Reynolds was a plant the whole time, we knew that though. If you¡¯re trying to¡­ trying to figure out what happened? Reynolds was a fed, but it was Marks that shot me.¡± Nate skipped again, and JP pulled his book up, trying not to listen. ¡°¡­can¡¯t get in. They can¡¯t get in. They¡¯re gone. They can¡¯t get through the door¡­¡± The woman¡¯s words were laced with manic laughter, the kind of laugh from someone who couldn¡¯t stop themselves taking perverse fascination with their situation. ¡°There.¡± Nate said. ¡°Can you please just make a transcript of¡­¡± Nate cut JP off. ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡± He said. ¡°For just one second. Shut up. Did you notice?¡± ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve got it.¡± Ben said, opening his eyes, and then stopping as he saw the glares between Nate and JP. ¡°Uh¡­ or I could just¡­¡± ¡°No, go ahead.¡± Nate set the tape recorder down on the desk on top of printouts of all the faces of the people that they could get clear pictures of from the camp. ¡°What¡¯ve you got?¡± He didn¡¯t turn away from staring down JP, but the other man wasn¡¯t interested in conceding either. Nervously, like his dads were fighting, Ben cleared his throat and tried to explain. ¡°It¡¯s small, but¡­ did you notice that everyone in the camp is male?¡± ¡°¡­That¡¯s not that weird, is it?¡± JP asked. ¡°Hm.¡± Nate glanced down at the recorder. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ odd.¡± He said. ¡°Okay, think.¡± He told JP, trying to turn down the hostility so his partner in crime would listen. ¡°If they¡¯re a group that believes in nature spirits and the soul of the planet, do you really think they¡¯re gonna discriminate?¡± JP shrugged. ¡°How many women do you know that want to live in the Alaskan wilderness and occasionally take shots at politicians?¡± ¡°Six.¡± Nate answered without having to think about it. ¡°How do you not¡­ oh, whatever. Ben¡¯s right, that¡¯s off. Especially since Lily here,¡± he tapped the recorder, ¡°was obviously one of them. And not a fringe member, either.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Ben cut in, ¡°but also, the helicopter crew did have female members. The woman who shot James was also Hispanic, which none of the other members of the main camp were. They¡¯re all white, which¡­ just demographically, even for Alaska, doesn¡¯t make sense. Especially not for an ecoterrorist group like Nate said.¡± He thought for a second, then made a note on his laptop that he should ask Nate about hiring any of those six women he apparently knew. ¡°So we¡¯re looking at two different factions.¡± JP said. He might look dismissive, but he was still thinking about the situation, letting his mind make connections. ¡°Two questions then. Who are they, and why are they working together? Well, a third question, why are they killing random businessmen in New York?¡± ¡°I think we can safely call the main camp Priority Earth.¡± Nate said, pointing at the book JP had set aside. ¡°Or at least, we could have. They seem to have undergone some kind of schism. And I¡¯m not gonna make you listen to this again, but¡­¡± he glanced down at the recording with a flick of his eyes. ¡°When she said ¡°they can¡¯t get through the door¡±, did that not seem odd to you?¡± Nate asked. ¡°Why?¡± JP said. ¡°The door isn¡¯t that interesting.¡± Ben and Nate turned their heads at the same time to look at him with suspicious eyes. ¡°Hey Planner?¡± Ben said. ¡°Can you tell us if we¡¯re being influenced?¡± From out of the drawer of one of the desks, an ethereal tentacle unfolded, followed by another, and then another. Shortly, Planner linked their limbs in a ring around the three men. ¡°I am watching. Please attempt again.¡± Planner¡¯s voice, lIke a pen on parchment, resonated in the air around them. ¡°Literally all I said was that the door isn¡¯t inter-¡° JP cut off as Planner¡¯s tentacles snapped upward like a Venus flytrap, ripping something out of the air. ¡°-esting okay fine I see the problem now.¡± JP said. ¡°How did James get through that?¡± He asked suddenly. ¡°Zhu is much more adept than I am at guiding people past effects, especially those that are physical barriers.¡± Planner said. ¡°But thank you for the snack. I will be nearby, should you need me.¡± Their limbs pulled back, no actual central source, just them letting their manifestation go as they continued their daily life around the building. Nate glanced around the warehouse. ¡°We should get a fridge in here. Or a keg or something. I should be able to have a beer when we¡¯re doing this shit.¡± He sighed. ¡°Okay. So, now that I can actually focus on it; we¡¯ve got two possible readings here. Either the dead chick is saying that the people looking for her have physically left, or, she¡¯s saying that they¡¯re gone. She got through that door fine; and I think it¡¯s like this building. They set up a¡­ well, a Planner-style password. The right people could just walk in. But whoever was after her couldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± JP snapped his fingers. ¡°And she said one of her own people shot her.¡± ¡°Right. So, if he¡¯s chasing her, say, why couldn¡¯t he get through the door?¡± Ben chimed in with a bitter expression on his face. ¡°From a few of the other memories James recorded, looking at pictures and the dossiers of people we suspect were members, they absolutely had a diverse membership¡­¡± ¡°This is¡­¡± JP licked his lips, trying to keep from having an emotional reaction that would ruin his ability to think critically about this. ¡°Okay, this is grim and horrible. Obviously something happened here. But I think we¡¯re loosing sight of the bigger picture. What does this have to do with anything?¡± He held up a hand to Ben. ¡°No, clarifying. Anything that is relevant to our situation in New York and our tenuous offer of aid to the FBI.¡± ¡°Well, these are the guys who are at least responsible for the car bomb.¡± Nate said. ¡°They¡¯ve got memetic capability, at least a little. And they¡¯re positioned to be the people who¡¯d want to kill a bunch of executives that fund the oil industry. But you¡¯re right, that doesn¡¯t¡­ pass me that book, yeah?¡± He pointed at JP, and got slid the copy of Priority Earth across the desk, sending a couple pens scattering to the floor. They all ignored them. Nate flipped to the back of the book, and made a grunt of frustration as there was no author bio on the back page. ¡°Damn.¡± He muttered. ¡°Worth a shot. Anyway. We don¡¯t have any other leads, and this is a clear target that we can pursue. No matter how pissed Anesh and Alanna are that their boyfriend got shot again.¡± He tossed the book back onto the desk, rubbing the back of his hand across the bridge of his nose. ¡°I¡¯d be pissed if my boyfriend got shot, if we¡¯re being fiar.¡± Ben added with a shrug. ¡°Also, we should be up front about this at least with each other; James is right. We absolutely want to steal their teleporter.¡± ¡°Do you even have a boyfriend?¡± Nate asked, letting himself get distracted. ¡°Not that there¡¯s anything wrong with that, just¡­ you¡¯re here as often as I am.¡± ¡°Oh, no, it was just an example. I don¡¯t have¡­ uh¡­ time to date anyone, are you nuts?¡± Ben scoffed as he deflected the question, looking at his phone as he stood up and stretched. ¡°Also Davis is on the way up. Says he wants to talk to us about this, specifically. So I guess I¡¯ll go get dinner later?¡± JP groaned, and the others tried not to replicate the sound. They¡¯d been at this for a while, and were no closer to a satisfying truth than when they started. Their attempt to link the different pieces of information together had lasted so long that the team they¡¯d sent had all left, and they were down to sharing the warehouse with two Rogue trainees, an intern that was working on something else, and a Winter¡¯s Climb delve team that were doing some kind of deep breathing exercises or something. They¡¯d put together bits and pieces of information from the documents and memory snapshots James had brought back, like how the blueprints themselves were a kind of magic the Priority Earth organization had discovered. But while they could look over the pages James had glanced at that explained the relevance of rune position on the blueprints, they didn¡¯t have enough examples or information to know what the things did. Only that they weren¡¯t teleporters, so it was something else. They knew the group was armed, and had gone as far as blackmail or threats, even murder, before, but never enough to cause the level of chaos that they had this time. And, as far as they could tell, nothing had changed to push them like this. Personally, JP was tired of slamming his head into a wall that he couldn¡¯t talk his way past. The others had gone off to rest or hand in their equipment or just do other shit. El got to go on a date. Even Dave was having more fun than him, his best friend currently watching his giant pet dragon play with the other, smaller paper drakes in the back parking lot. And JP was still sitting here, trying to figure this mystery out, and coming up with a whole lot of ¡®answer unclear¡¯s on the magic eight ball. ¡°What¡¯s Davis want, anyway?¡± Nate asked, in the voice of a man who regretted taking a job and missed the simpler chaos of running a kitchen that cooked for two hundred people every day. ¡°Does he have a magical solution to this shit?¡± ¡°Is it a magic eight ball?¡± JP asked, breaking out of his thoughts. ¡°Would you believe me if I said yes?¡± Davis called to them, entering the room through the side door and heading over toward where the three of them were clustered. A few heads turned toward him, but everyone focused back on their own work fast enough as he easily strode over to the three men working on their newest problem. JP pitched himself forward, finally letting his chair drop back to all four legs as he looked at the older man who still insisted on wearing an actual tie to his ¡®job¡¯ in Research. ¡°I suppose it was only a matter of time before the Office produced a magic eight ball.¡± He admitted. ¡°Are we done denying that fate is real and we¡¯re all puppets?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not, fuck off.¡± Nate said bluntly. Davis cleared his throat. ¡°I actually meant a solution, not a literal eight ball. Though it is an Officium Mundi solution. You can thank Chevoy for this one, actually. She¡¯s the one who thought to try it.¡± He pulled out a printed page and handed it over, explaining as he did so. ¡°So, we¡¯ve got a few iLipedes down in the basement. Not too many, but every now and then, one follows us back, and we tend to keep the ones with interesting apps.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t need the backstory.¡± JP said. ¡°I¡¯m kinda interested!¡± Ben offered. ¡°I barely get a chance to explore this place! What¡¯s an iLipede? Like an iPhone millipede?¡± Davis gave an approving nod to the excited young man. ¡°Exactly! Come down sometime, you can pet one. Anyway, we¡¯ve got one that shows us manufacturing specs on things it has time to process.¡± He pointed to the paper that Nate was currently glaring at like he could incinerate the information itself with his mind powers. ¡°So Chevoy gave it the bullet Deb pulled out of James.¡± ¡°Are you fucking kidding me.¡± Nate¡¯s voice carried a cold anger so potent that even JP flinched back from him briefly. ¡°It gets worse.¡± Davis said. ¡°Since that worked, we tried the bullets that McHarn gave us from the scene of one of the attacks. Same result, mostly. Same manufacturer, anyway.¡± ¡°Boss?¡± Ben prompted, trying to look around Nate¡¯s shoulder to see the page. Nate handed it over, drawing a long breath through his nose. ¡°Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack.¡± He said in that bitter cold tone. ¡°Made the bullet. That¡¯s¡­ stupid, for one thing. And I wanna say impossible. But there it is.¡± ¡°Yeah, so, unless there¡¯s some kind of massive conspiracy, or specific magic power, to trick people who can specifically see who made bullets¡­¡± Davis shrugged. ¡°Looks like they¡¯re back.¡± JP sighed deeply. ¡°I was really hoping you were going to tell us you got that stupid faction orrery working and solved the case for us.¡± ¡°Oh, hah. No.¡± Davis chuckled. ¡°That thing is a mess. I¡¯ll make a project page for it for you though, so you can get updates.¡± ¡°¡­Thanks. I think.¡± JP shook his head as the Researcher left them. ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± Ben asked. ¡°I mean, this does solve one thing, right? The helicopter crew are Wolfpack. Obviously. We never got a good look at it the first time, but Dave did say he and Pendragon almost hit an invisible helicopter in Utah. So it¡¯s gotta be them. But¡­¡± ¡°But why?¡± JP asked. ¡°Who cares. Obviously they aren¡¯t as nice as we thought, if they¡¯re trying to kill our rogues.¡± Nate stood up, shoving the page Davis gave him into the desk. ¡°I¡¯m gonna find a beer, and drink it.¡± He said. ¡°And then, when I¡¯m less pissed off, we¡¯re gonna figure out what to do about this.¡± The man clenched a hand into a fist. ¡°Maybe after I take that offer of going on a Sewer delve and punching the shit out of something.¡± He turned to storm out of the room, his angry mood billowing out around him. Behind him, someone made a comment about how you shouldn¡¯t touch anything in the Akashic Sewer with your hands, but Nate wasn¡¯t listening. He was tired, and pissed off, and that was a bad mood to do any planning in. He needed a break, and so did everyone else. Probably could have phrased it better, but this¡¯d have to do for now. It wasn¡¯t even that the Wolfpack was involved. Though Nate did have a personal dislike of them, and how they had twice now shown up and messed up a perfectly good plan. Well, three times, counting this one. It was more what the Wolfpack were demonstrating. Magic bullets, invisible helicopter, long range teleportation, control of certain dungeon access points, meddling with the affairs of a bunch of different groups¡­ The Wolfpack felt really familiar. Which was why Nate was not comfortable being on the back foot with them. After all. Everyone who¡¯d been on the back foot against the Order was at this point either dead, memory wiped, or a provisional member. And he didn¡¯t think Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack would be as big on recruiting. Chapter 215 ¡°Every day of my life has been better since you¡¯ve been in it. Every single day.¡± -Superman, The Son Of Karl-El #17- _____ James woke up in a hospital bed with a nurse unclipping his IV bag. He came back to consciousness slowly, but as his eyes opened, he realized he actually felt pretty good. He opened his mouth to say something to the young man coiling up a plastic tube to be sterilized, but just yawned broadly instead. The nurse, who bizarrely had a name tag on reading ¡®Aaron¡¯, glanced down at him. ¡°Ah, good. You¡¯re awake.¡± He said, in a tone that more or less sounded like he didn¡¯t actually think a lot of things were good or bad at all, but that this was expedient. ¡°Let¡¯s get the IV out of you, and we can see if you can walk.¡± ¡°I can walk.¡± James gave a nod, banishing the rest of the hazy sleep from his mind. ¡°I actually feel great. Why do I have an IV though?¡± ¡°You were dehydrated and deficient in certain nutrients. Deb decided to solve those problems, while you were out. Also the saline mix has one of the newer exercise potions in it as a painkiller. Probably why you feel great.¡± James blinked slowly, trying to put together the timeline. ¡°How long was I sleeping?¡± He asked. ¡°About eight hours. It¡¯s morning now, day after you came in.¡± Aaron made quick work of pulling the needle out of James¡¯ arm, rapidly moving fingers pinching the hole in his body shut while his other hand set the sharp object aside and pinned him closed with a bandage. James barely even had time to feel the mild pain, much less worry about it. ¡°Think you want to try walking?¡± He half-asked. There was a brief moment where James wondered if this guy was just a little too cold to be working here. But then, he cut himself off mentally. If he was here, then he was at least worth a chance. There had to be room for improvement for someone to improve, after all; internal and external. So he just nodded and swung his legs out, flexing his knees and making sure he was good to stand. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good.¡± He said. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°No problem. You¡¯re marked as checked out now. There is, as you may have guessed, no bill.¡± Aaron gave a magnanimous tilt of his head to him. James snorted a laugh, caught off guard. ¡°Yeah, socialized health care is easy when you can mint new doctors and duplicate the equipment.¡± He conceded. Then he planted his feet on the floor, and tested his weight, finding that he could stand easily enough. ¡°Uh¡­ are there pants around here for me?¡± He asked. The other man, now fully engaged with his rapid cleanup of the room, just pointed over to a cabinet where Anesh had left James¡¯ a change of clothes. He got dressed quickly, but couldn¡¯t find any shoes. When asked, Aaron just shrugged. ¡°I think they got thrown away.¡± He told James. ¡°You bled a lot into them, and they were half torn up anyway.¡± Bemoaning the loss of his boots, James made his way out of the hospital area. Some of the duplicated rooms still had new ratroaches in them, the scared creatures adapting to a new uncertain life with soft beds and warm food as the antifungal and antibiotic regimen purged the infections from their bodies. One of the rooms had a human woman in it, her caramel skin contrasting sharply with the shock-white fur of the ratroach she was talking to that was curled up on the bed clutching a stuffed shark in their three misplaced arms. James tried not to stare or linger. The newer ratroaches they were rescuing from the Akashic Sewer were¡­ fragile. Not just physically, but emotionally; they were terrified of everything, especially of giving answers they thought were ¡®wrong¡¯, and that unfortunately included telling the medical team about if they were hurting or hungry. Keeka and Arrush had been similar, when they¡¯d arrived, but not this bad. Or maybe that was just him misremembering. Or, perhaps, the two of them took a strength from each other that these lonely versions didn¡¯t know yet. James could understand that; he¡¯d throw himself into a lot of scary stuff for his own partners. He ran a hand over his head, idly toying with his long hair as he nodded to the nurse in the front room of their small hospital and pushed his way out the door and into the Lair. James still needed to talk to Arrush, actually. Hell, he needed to talk to a lot of people, he realized. But the ratroach was the one occupying his thoughts at the moment. Right before James¡¯d fallen asleep earlier, Anesh had told him the big guy had a crush on him. Though his boyfriend had probably used better words like ¡®infatuated¡¯; James didn¡¯t really remember, and he had the excuse of having been shot, so he didn¡¯t need to. He¡¯d gotten the implication. It was weird. He¡¯d never actually been this well informed about someone else¡¯s attitude toward him before like this. And now that it was happening, he had no idea how to feel about it. James thought as he wandered through the basement. He liked Arrush well enough; both him and Keeka, really. They were¡­ interesting, he supposed. But in a comfortable way. A way where at no point did James ever feel awkward or unpleasant around them, even when they asked questions he had never thought to answer with words before. But that was a bit different from being into someone, as far as James knew. Not that James actually knew that much about romance or attraction anyway, even if he was currently embroiled in a chaotically unpredictable relationship. Actually, he thought to himself, that would probably be a good place to start on working out his feelings. Talking to Anesh and Alanna, the people he trusted more than anyone else in the world. At the very least, he could look forward to Alanna teasing him in creative ways. Which, well, it wasn¡¯t that James was into that, but it was just always fun to see her come alive when their banter got sharp. With that emotional snarl momentarially pushed to the future, James considered who else he needed to talk to today. He solved most of his problems by talking to people, after all. And then he remembered that he¡¯d been shot, and he should probably find Nate or JP or someone. Also, he was supposed to be doing a handful of interviews today, and he was reasonably sure that wasn¡¯t going to happen. ¡°Alright.¡± James spoke to himself. ¡°Update first, then check in with Karen about interviews, then¡­ then I¡¯m going home.¡± He let out a long, long sigh. ¡°I¡¯m so tired.¡± He whispered to himself, the feeling having nothing to do with how he physically felt, and more to do with just how overwhelmed by life he¡¯d been the last week or so. He tilted his head back down from where he¡¯d been staring at the ceiling, and looked around. ¡°Also how did I get here.¡± James had not been paying attention to where he was walking at all, and this basement was perhaps slightly unkind to anyone who got lost in it. Glancing around the hallway, he tried to remember where exactly this particular part of this particular basement was. He was pretty sure that this was near where Rufus kept his little garden, maybe he could stop in and ask. If he could remember which corner it was near, and if the posters and notices on the walls hadn¡¯t changed since he was last here. He was shortly saved from his awkward attempts at navigation by a couple of people passing by. ¡°Morning.¡± Chevoy gave him a cheerful nod, while next to her, Mike, one of the other engineers she¡¯d been hired alongside, grumbled something similar into his coffee. ¡°Hey.¡± James nodded at them. ¡°Uh¡­ how did you get down here?¡± He asked. ¡°So that I can get out of here. I am lost.¡± ¡°Oh! That¡¯s my bad.¡± Mike admitted. ¡°I added an extra quarter mile of hallways the other day. Sorry.¡± He didn¡¯t elaborate, just sipping his coffee and wincing at the heat that he wasn¡¯t quite ready for. James and Chevoy slowly turned away from the man to face each other, giving a shared look that indicated they didn¡¯t know if he was joking or not. ¡°Anyway!¡± Chevoy said, clearing the mood. ¡°You¡¯re basically right around the corner from the elevator. Just go back past the server room, and take a left at the end of the hall with the bedrooms.¡± ¡°Thanks. Also why do we still have bedrooms here?¡± James asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t we build a whole apartment block to better organize space or something? Also since when do we have a whole server room.¡± Chevoy shrugged, shifting her grip on the plank of wood she was carrying, slinging it over her shoulder. ¡°The server room is new-ish, and really only has the two servers that we got from that one orange. It¡¯s mostly where we keep the hardware that runs the copied immunity programs, and then has the interface for swapping out users.¡± ¡°Hell, that was the thing I was supposed to do, uh¡­ a year ago.¡± James jammed a knuckle into his forehead, just over his nose. ¡°Well, at least that one is less of a tactical blunder.¡± ¡°I dunno, it¡¯s kind of cool.¡± Chevoy shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re still trying to figure out how to get more of the things. Almost none of the ones we have are practical, or very effective. The venom and wood ones are still the best. Oh! Though! We have enough to give someone a hundred percent wood immunity now!¡± She swung the plank she was holding down to the ground and planted it like a sword on the floor. ¡°Which is cool.¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯m gonna regret asking this I think but what happens then?¡± James asked, feeling like every word he spoke took him farther from getting both breakfast and a proper update on the actual crisis. ¡°Then they¡¯re immune to wood.¡± Mike said bluntly. Chevoy gave a more complete answer, ticking off on her fingers as she propped an elbow on the two by four. ¡°No kinetic transfer, no penetration, no splintering - you can technically use a human as a sort-of perfect lathe with this, except for¡­uh¡­ actually - it¡¯s got a really weird interaction at the molecular level where there¡¯s a kind of air-gap. Doesn¡¯t work on fire, though? Like, wood that is on fire still burns you. Fire isn¡¯t wood, I guess. Oh, it does work on varnished wood. Don¡¯t ask why.¡± ¡°I love that you¡¯re becoming an encyclopedia for all the corner cases down here.¡± James told her. The engineer just smirked and tapped the back of her neck. ¡°I¡¯m not. I¡¯m just on our network constantly. It¡¯s actually insane that more people don¡¯t use these things all the time.¡± She told him. ¡°I use one, just not right now. Hence being lost.¡± James pointed out. ¡°Anyway, thanks, you guys have fun with whatever you¡¯re up to.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re prototyping the space elevator.¡± Chevoy said, like that was normal. James wanted to ask more questions. He really did. But he restrained himself long enough to get to the elevator, and head upstairs, before his curiosity overwhelmed him. When he¡¯d started, started all of this, it had been a personal quest for self improvement and making rent. Then it had been a quest to rescue who he could. Then it had been¡­ what? Trying to save the world? Like that was a thing he could just do? The scope of James¡¯ goals had rapidly eclipsed his grasp. But he was still accomplishing stuff. It¡¯s just that a lot of what he accomplished these days was dragging some weird magic out of a dungeon, dropping it on the collective population of the research basement, and then letting them figure out how to make use of it. Case in point, they were apparently going to have a space elevator. In theory, James knew that was a thing. But, like¡­ they were still working on it. It wasn¡¯t some fleeting thing. It was like Bill and Reed plowing forward with the duplicated apartment thing. James brought them the tools and materials, but they were the ones who spun them into miracles. He couldn¡¯t wait to go to space, he decided, as the elevator dinged open and he stepped past a tired looking camraconda with a somehow equally tired authority flickering green lines around her. Stepping out into the lobby of the Lair, the place a lot more sparsely populated at seven AM than during the late afternoon when James was usually here and awake, he headed to the dining area to grab some breakfast, and go from there. Breakfast was eggs and coffee that was probably magical. James found himself sitting at a table with Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust, the two women connected via skulljack and silently eating their food as they both read through folders full of documents, occasionally sliding one across the table to the other. It was a surreal experience, and James actually wasn¡¯t sure if he was still asleep. ¡°They are¡­ on an odd journey¡­¡± Zhu had whispered in his ear, the ethereal feathers of the navigator tickling at James¡¯ neck as he partially manifested. ¡°I think they can still hear us.¡± James told Zhu. ¡°They¡¯re just getting work done. Which¡­ we cannot possibly have this much work to do. Karen, don¡¯t you have an entire department that works for you?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the woman said without looking up at James, ¡°and that means an entire department to verify and keep up on the work of.¡± She pointed a fork his direction, still without looking. ¡°Accounting sign-offs, sales contract oversight, updates on the victims under our care, Response numbers, operating totals. The sooner we are started on it, the better.¡± James glanced down at his shoulder where an orange eye ringed in feathers glanced back at him. Neither of them had missed that by the end of the sentence, Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust were speaking in unison. ¡°Kay.¡± He said simply. ¡°Also, hey Zhu. How¡¯re you doing? Sleep okay?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t sleep.¡± The navigator said. ¡°Or¡­ do I? I go somewhere I do not go, when you are sleeping. I didn¡¯t notice. I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°Out of curiosity,¡± James asked, ¡°can you propagate, as an infomorph? Like, can you spread to other people? Because if so, there¡¯s almost certainly someone who would take you on here, so that you would have less total downtime. At least one of us would always be awake.¡± Zhu hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know.¡± He said. ¡°I like it here, though.¡± He said ¡®here¡¯, and James got the warm impression of himself, a place where the infomorph was comfortable, and felt safe. Which was perhaps a little bit inaccurate, considering how often James got shot at, but it was a nice feeling to have. ¡°Well, let me know if you change your mind. Anything that improves your life is worth checking out.¡± He told the navigator, before taking a large bite of his omelet before it got cold. The feathered manifestation bobbed, before Zhu started to recede again. ¡°I will. Also, a traveler approaches you. She is angry.¡± ¡°Wha-¡° but Zhu was already gone. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s-¡° James looked over at his table mates, but they were ignoring his conversation. Then he glanced up at the entrance to the dining area, and spotted El, looking like she hadn¡¯t slept since yesterday, standing there and staring at him like she was working up a good bout of righteous anger to come talk to him. ¡°Ah.¡± James pushed his plate away, and stood up, heading over to her first. ¡°What¡¯s up, and how can I fix it?¡± He asked, undercutting whatever ire she had going. El stared at him with uncertain eyes, before her shoulders straightened up and she tilted her chin up at him. ¡°I¡¯m done.¡± She told him. ¡°I¡¯m out.¡± ¡°Of¡­ the Order?¡± James¡¯ heart sank. But¡­ well, it sucked, but it was the way of life for people to move on. ¡°Oh.¡± He found himself saying sadly. ¡°Okay. Uh¡­ I think you should probably tell Karen, we can get someone to cover for your youth program slot. And, uh¡­ do you wanna keep living here, or¡­?¡± He wasn¡¯t sure how to handle this. No one had ever quit on him before. Well, El had, actually. Once. But she¡¯d done it by just vanishing. This was the first time anyone had told him. Usually people who left either died, got fired and teleported back to the FBI, or¡­ no, that was it really. ¡°No you fucking¡­ no!¡± El¡¯s voice brought him back to the conversation. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m done getting in fights! Stop assigning me to combat roles!¡± She made a gesture that was really more just panicked flailing with her hands than anything else. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t wanna fight anymore, okay? I don¡¯t care how important it is, or if I¡¯m useful, or-¡° James cut her off, because this was much easier to answer. ¡°Oh!¡± He said with relief. ¡°Sure! Fuck, of course. Sorry, I had some anxiety there for a second.¡± The words slipped out of his mouth with some of that anxiety still attached. ¡°Yeah, of course you don¡¯t have to. This last thing wasn¡¯t even supposed to be a fight, and I¡¯m actually really sorry you got shot at. Yeah. Okay. So, no active operations, no¡­ uh¡­ delving? Do you want to stop delving?¡± El jerked back like she¡¯d been caught off guard. ¡°Nnnnno?¡± She said slowly. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ maybe? Fuck, I don¡¯t know now.¡± The exhausted girl leaned against the wall, turning half away from James. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d just agree like that, I had a whole thing planned.¡± ¡°What, to convince me to stop sending you into combat?¡± ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± ¡°Okay. Well. Uh¡­¡± James looked around them, hamming up his confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re a military unit. So, you know, I can¡¯t really make you do anything. But actually, we¡¯ve got so much flexible redundancy in our combat capability, it¡¯s not a serious loss or anything, and also¡­ I dunno, I¡¯d rather you just be comfortable with whatever you¡¯re doing? For reasons both practical and emotional.¡± ¡°You really ruined my rant, though.¡± El told him. ¡°I had a good thing planned.¡± ¡°Do you¡­ do you wanna use it anyway? Like, pretend I told you that you¡¯re a soldier and you have to follow orders, and just really give it to me?¡± James asked her, raising his eyebrows. El scrunched up her face and turned away from him in a huff. ¡°No, it¡¯s ruined now.¡± She said. ¡°Also I¡¯m too tired anyway.¡± ¡°Go sleep or something!¡± James told her. ¡°Oh, actually, how was your date? I was unconscious. Did you get to go on your date?¡± He paused, then winced and slapped a hand over one of his eyes. ¡°No, wait, fuck, sorry. That was Momo. I¡¯m getting you two confused. Sorry.¡± ¡°To be fair, I also had a date.¡± El said with a small grin. James nodded. ¡°Alright, well then. Glad it went well. Anyway, was there anything else? I need to go get briefed on whatever¡¯s going on. Unless you can catch me up?¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m gonna go sleep. Go bug Nate. Or, I guess, anyone that¡¯s not me or Momo.¡± El pushed herself off the wall and shuffled back a few steps, turning with a wave to James. ¡°Thanks, too. I¡¯ll get back to you on the delve thing.¡± ¡°Yeah, no worries.¡± He called after her. Then, a second later, his brain caught up with what she¡¯d said. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± He muttered. ¡°Was her date with Momo? Am I just getting that? Am I not paying enough attention to my friends?¡± He paused. And then, decided he didn¡¯t really need to pry. The two of them would either be perfect for each other or really not perfect for each other, and he¡¯d almost certainly find out about it either way. ¡°Alright. Breakfast done. Interpersonal issue solved. Time for the mystery of ¡®who shot me and why¡¯.¡± He turned and headed back toward the kitchen itself, hoping to catch Nate at his other job. His plan was foiled by the absence of Nate, anywhere in the room of stainless steel and warm ovens. Instead, Marjorie greeted him cheerfully as she pulled a tray of bacon out of an oven, sliding it deftly into a holding pan to serve to the Order as they woke up and trickled in to eat. ¡°Morning dear!¡± She called to him as James entered. Over in the corner, a sleepy looking young man who was arranging plates of fruit glanced up at him too, but decided that offering a greeting was too much work. ¡°Hey Ms. Chase.¡± James said politely, nodding at El¡¯s mom. ¡°Your daughter says hi.¡± ¡°Oh, no she doesn¡¯t.¡± Marjorie waved a spatula at him. ¡°She¡¯s too busy with her own life for me these days. Also she¡¯s probably still asleep.¡± ¡°Actually just going to bed. I really did just run into her. The message was implied.¡± James smiled at the older woman, who gave a confused smile back, not fully understanding his sense of humor. ¡°Anyway. Is Nate around?¡± ¡°Not today. He¡¯s got the day off.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± James pursed his lips and glanced off to the side. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know where to find him when he¡¯s not here. This hasn¡¯t happened before.¡± The gears in his brain turned slowly. ¡°¡­I could find¡­ JP?¡± ¡°Or you could call Nate.¡± Marjorie offered. James winced. ¡°Oh, I lost my phone again.¡± He said with an uncoordinated hand gesture. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of just abandoning it in favor of plugging my brain into the internet all the time. It seems like it¡¯s going well for some people.¡± He said a quick goodbye, stole a piece of bacon, ignored the kind of confused nod El¡¯s mom was giving him, and wandered back into the Lair. Passed by Keeka and gave a smile to the nervous ratroach, who was trying to see how many of the small pastries from the snack bar he could fit in his skirt as he turned the garment into a pouch. Waited patiently for the group of researchers, including both an inhabitor and an ex-Alchemist, to clear the hallway and take their argument about linguistics in potion making out of his way so he could get past. And then, made his way to the briefing warehouse. James was still waking up. He felt pretty good, but he¡¯d had a lot of his mental energy drained already today, and he wasn¡¯t ready to touch either of those problems quite yet. Instead, he found himself walking up to the ring of desks and tables that was quickly becoming the impromptu command center for Rogue operations. In the middle of it, with headphones in and fiddling with an unbroken relationstick, Ben sat listening to something while he scrolled through archived aerial photos of the area of Alaska they were in, trying to figure out when exactly the rival group had shown up. ¡°Yo.¡± James greeted him, and then repeated it louder when Ben didn¡¯t look up. Ben¡¯s head snapped up quickly, and he popped his headphones out. ¡°Oh, good, you¡¯re here. I have an update for you.¡± He didn¡¯t wait for James to say anything, and James barely had time to sit down before Ben started burying him in words. ¡°The bullets that hit you read as manufactured by Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack. We can assume with high confidence that they are a separate group from Priority Earth, who appear to be a defunct ecoterrorist organization. Antimemetics are in play, though to what extent we can¡¯t tell-¡° ¡°Obviously.¡± James nodded, glancing over at a trio of exhausted people entering the warehouse through the back entrance before turning back to Ben. ¡°-yeah, well.¡± Ben shrugged in a stilted way. ¡°We still don¡¯t know why the Wolfpack are there, or why they tried to kill one of our people. Though the phrase ¡®ecoterrorist group¡¯ does sort of explain why they were killing finance execs.¡± ¡°Sort of.¡± James sighed. ¡°I have a problem with¡­ a lot of that, but okay. So, Harlan¡¯s back. Fuck. I hope they aren¡¯t mad I killed one of their people.¡± James paused. ¡°I mean, I hope they stop trying to kill us too. Any news on what was up with the bullets themselves? They went right through the shields.¡± Ben nodded rapidly. ¡°One of our arcane specialists analyzed them, and says they contain memories. Not in the same format as Officium Mundi loot drops, so most likely some kind of weaponized form. The unfired ones you got from the FBI as a sample have them, the one we dug out of you didn¡¯t, so it¡¯s some kind of magical catalyst, probably. Also, the bullets may have a self-replicating property, though we don¡¯t know how to trigger it.¡± Part of what the man had said caught up to James, and he gave a rapid double take, shaking his head. ¡°Sorry, hold up. One of our arcane specialists? We only¡­ you can just say it was Momo, there isn¡¯t anyone else here who¡¯s even close to earning that title.¡± ¡°What about you?¡± Ben asked. That got a derisive snort out of James. ¡°I sometimes have good ideas, and I poke my nose in places enough that I have access to more facts. That doesn¡¯t make me clever, or good at putting patterns together.¡± He admitted. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I¡¯m dumb, mostly because my therapist says I should stop doing that, but I am saying that I¡¯d a million percent trust Momo or Anesh or Davis to make connections better than me.¡± ¡°Alright then.¡± Ben nodded flatly. ¡°Also you¡¯re taking this well.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not awake enough to really have it sink in.¡± James sighed. ¡°Where¡¯s everyone else, anyway?¡± He asked. ¡°Nate is looking into locating the Wolfpack to make contact. JP said he was going to sleep, but I suspect has set out to locate other signs of Priority Earth activity in New York.¡± Ben said it like he was absolutely certain that was the case. James smirked. ¡°You know, at this point, you could probably benefit from actually snapping that with one of them.¡± He said, pointing at the relationstick Ben was still tapping on an open book near his elbow. Ben froze. Only briefly, but noticeably. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°Kay.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Anyway. Do you have any insight on how to proceed with this? Like, we obviously could just take out the whole group, and hope that ends the problem. But that seems needlessly vicious, and also we don¡¯t even know what the bigger picture is.¡± Ben relaxed slightly. ¡°Well, we know that they¡¯re partly responsible. But you¡¯re right, it seems like nothing about this organization ties back to what you experienced in the fight with one of the daughters of the Lloyd-¡° ¡°Just Lloyd. I know that he¡¯s The Last Line Of Defense, but I feel like giving that any respect is kind of dumb, so we¡¯re gonna say it wrong.¡± James corrected. Without any questioning, Ben accepted that. ¡°Sure. But you¡¯re ignoring the important part, which is the lack of connecting intelligence. We don¡¯t know how these guys are involved, or why, or if honestly. And that lack of knowing could get people killed if we keep pressing in the dark.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± James frowned. ¡°So, this is a great opportunity to find a corner piece to the puzzle, huh? But ¡®middle of Alaska¡¯s wilderness¡¯ seems like a tricky place to do it. It¡¯s not like we can just keep them under drone surveillance, or wiretap them. Hell, even just having a person there watching is a huge risk, because they actually do patrols, and they¡¯ll absolutely be on high alert now. Oh, and they¡¯ve got random magic.¡± James tilted back in his chair, staring at the shadowed collection of ventilation pipes and uncovered wiring that was the warehouse ceiling. ¡°Can we sneak someone in again? How much total invisibility do we have access to? The Alchemists had that cloak, right?¡± ¡°The cloak won¡¯t work if it¡¯s too cold.¡± Ben said. ¡°And if we stack all the SQ earrings we have that can do the invisibility thing, then we have a total of three hours and six minutes.¡± He stared at James. ¡°With a roughly four day cooldown time.¡± ¡°Welp. Infiltration is out.¡± ¡°It¡­ doesn¡¯t have to be.¡± Ben said, his voice suddenly having a nervous tone to it that James quirked an eyebrow at. His fidgeting with the relationstick rapidly ramped up, the tapping on the pages of the ecoterrorist manifesto book turning into a staccato. ¡°Can I talk to you for a minute about something?¡± ¡°We are literally doing that now.¡± James nodded. ¡°I just¡­¡± Ben took a deep breath. ¡°Promise you won¡¯t be mad?¡± ¡°Absolutely not!¡± James folded his arms. ¡°But I doubt you could say anything that¡¯ll actually be a huge problem, and I promise not to be a dick. What¡¯s up? Did JP do something recklessly idiotic?¡± Ben grimaced. ¡°Probably. But no. Um¡­ what if I said that infiltration was an option?¡± ¡°Then I¡¯d have a lot of questions.¡± James felt like he should have had more coffee with his breakfast. ¡°Is it?¡± ¡°I¡­ I could do it.¡± Ben said, ducking his head. ¡°Oh?¡± James quirked an eyebrow, seeing where this was going. ¡°You sound like you don¡¯t want to, though.¡± With a deep breath and a clench of his hands into fists, the Rogue closed his eyes and said something critically important. ¡°I¡¯m not human.¡± He told James. ¡°Yeah.¡± The word was a single dry, almost bored syllable, coming from James¡¯ mouth with minimal consideration. ¡°I¡¯m from the place you call the Winter¡¯s Climb.¡± ¡°Again, there is no ¡®the¡¯.¡± James gave a half shrug. ¡°Though this time it¡¯s not out of lack of respect. It¡¯s just we didn¡¯t put a definitive article in the name. Though, being fair, I didn¡¯t name it. Ask Liz and Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn if they wanna add a ¡®the¡¯, I guess?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not kidding¡­?¡± Ben said. ¡°I¡¯m not a person¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, we know.¡± James told him, feeling kind of awkward with the confession. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ actually sorry I guess? Maybe we should have said something earlier, if you were this stressed about it? Karen spotted you about a week after we got out. You can¡¯t actually baffle documents the way you do people. Also, the assignments and navigators see you as a kind of indistinct blob, when they look closely. You did get by Planner though, so points there! But yeah, I figure it was that long to find us, after you tailed us out, because I know you didn¡¯t latch onto our teleport.¡± ¡°¡­this isn¡¯t how I expected this to go.¡± Ben admitted, voice shaking somewhat. ¡°And yes, I have an instinctive draw to¡­ to my prey.¡± ¡°Eh.¡± James gave a nervous smile. ¡°It was weird at first, but you seemed like you were legitimately fitting in, so it wasn¡¯t a problem. Oh, though, you aren¡¯t a great infiltrator when you actually talk, just so you know. You contradicted stuff you said about your past a lot. Like, you sound more or less human, but you come across as someone who¡¯s hiding something constantly.¡± He remembered what they were talking about, and frowned. ¡°Actually, that¡­ yeah, no. You absolutely should not try to infiltrate these guys. I know that your innate ability would make it easy to get in, but you just said they have antimemetic abilities, and we don¡¯t know what those are, so I¡¯d rather not risk you on a gamble like that. Damn, actually, if you¡¯d said something earlier we could have maybe gotten Nate to set up a training plan to maximize your whole ¡®thing¡¯ for exactly this situation. But that¡¯s not on you; we could have asked too.¡± Ben was staring at James with a weird expression. ¡°I don¡¯t understand how you¡¯re so calm about this.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ve been¡­ I mean, this is¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna say ¡®eh¡¯ again, and I want you to know I realize I¡¯m doing it too much.¡± James informed him. ¡°Eh.¡± He flattened a hand and chopped it in Ben¡¯s direction. ¡°You¡¯ve been here for months now, you know we¡¯re okay with non-humans. And instead of killing anyone, you¡¯ve decided to just¡­ be a rather effective tactical manager for our intelligence division? Uh, okay I, guess? Ben, in the time you¡¯ve been here, at least three people have shot at me, one of them successfully, and none of them were you. I don¡¯t understand why you think it¡¯s a big deal. Peaceful mutualism is literally our thing.¡± ¡°Oh. Oh¡­ okay?¡± Ben composed himself as best he could. ¡°Well, in that case, I have no further suggestions. Though we might request help from more experienced combatants to keep an eye on their compound later, because we do need to know what they¡¯re up to.¡± ¡°I agree.¡± James said. ¡°Though hopefully not me for at least a day.¡± ¡°No, we have enough people to make it work.¡± Ben assured him. ¡°Though the delve teams get annoyed if we break them up to use as security.¡± ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re big on unit cohesion around here.¡± James said idly. ¡°Talk to Sarah, actually. She knows how to do this kind of thing smoothly. Assuming she has time.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Ben glanced at him. Still a little suspicious. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay with this? Me?¡± ¡°Well you did say prey a second ago so I¡¯m curious what¡¯s up with that. Also what changed? Like, why settle in, why tell me, you know? I¡¯ve got a lot of questions, but I¡¯m kinda tired and we¡¯re both in the middle of things.¡± Ben gave him a strange, blurred look. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know. Maybe a random skill orb. Maybe I never needed to¡­ Ah. Who knows.¡± He took a sharp breath and changed tone to something more professional and abrupt. ¡°What¡­ what should we do, about the Wolfpack, if it comes up?¡± He asked. ¡°Are we flagging them as enemies?¡± ¡°Oh, hell, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m qualified to answer that.¡± James groaned, jolting as his attempt to brace himself on one of the desks caused the desk to slide and him to almost lose his balance in his tipped chair. ¡°Yeah, even if they shot me. Something weird is going on, and I think we should be very careful going forward. But we¡¯re absolutely not at the shoot-on-sight point of our relationship. Besides, I was breaking into their secret base at the time.¡± ¡°You¡¯re way too understanding.¡± Ben accused him. James cracked his knuckles and stood up. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that at some point earlier in this conversation. But no, pass it on to Nate too. And any other Rogue! Until we know what¡¯s going on, this is a one-off misunderstanding, and we hope we can salvage something out of it, okay?¡± He didn¡¯t notice that he was rubbing at his neck where Nik had plucked a bullet out of him not even a day ago. ¡°I¡¯ll live. Let¡¯s not fuck everything up just on my account, okay?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Ben didn¡¯t look like he fully agreed with James, but at the moment, James was the closest thing he had to a leader, so he agreed to go along with it. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you up to date on anything we learn.¡± James stood and stretched. ¡°Alright.¡± He said with a strained voice as he arced his arms over his head, taking advantage of having elbows that bent well past human normal. ¡°Keep me apprised.¡± He turned to go, but then stopped, looking back over his shoulder and wishing he had a cool coat to make the dramatic moment really work. ¡°Oh, and Ben?¡± He waited for the Rogue to look up at him. ¡°If you ever refer to yourself as ¡®not a person¡¯ again, you¡¯re fired.¡± And with that out of the way, James strode away, deciding he could tackle maybe one more problem before he headed back to his apartment. Dipping into the reserve of mental stamina that he never really knew the source of, James crossed the warehouse space over to the area where delve teams grouped up before heading out, and met to offload loot and information when they came back. He offered a wave as he approached the trio of humans, all of them dressed in gear that wasn¡¯t specifically armor, but was the closest thing you could wear in public without getting too many weird looks. They looked like they were coming back from a biker meetup, basically. It also struck James that it was kind of amusing that he was more thrown off by the fact that the team was all human than whatever they were wearing. Charlie tapped two fingers to his forehead in a greeting as James approached. He was one of many people that James was personally responsible for keeping alive, having been one of the original survivors of Officium Mundi that they¡¯d rescued so long ago. He¡¯d taken a lot of time to adjust to the Order, to the massive change in his world, but he¡¯d settled in eventually, and now his little team was sort of a catchall for random tasks that weren¡¯t specifically dungeon delving. ¡°Boss.¡± He nodded to James, who didn¡¯t bother to correct him. ¡°Have you met Alice?¡± He asked, motioning to the woman who was trying to shuffle off the leather longcoat she was wearing without knocking the thick glasses off her face. ¡°Hey.¡± James nodded at her. ¡°How was Utah?¡± ¡°A mess.¡± Charlie sighed. ¡°Good news or bad news?¡± James groaned and wondered if it was too late to hide under one of the desks in here, and let someone else worry about this. It actually probably wasn¡¯t; the Order had a lot of momentum without him, he could probably get away with it. But he didn¡¯t consider it for too long; he¡¯d get bored. ¡°Gimmie the bad news first.¡± Charlie didn¡¯t exactly frown; he always seemed to have a vaguely unhappy look on his angled face. ¡°We haven¡¯t located the dungeon.¡± He started with. ¡°Or any of the students that were sent home.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the word from slipping out. ¡°Exactly. Fuck. That¡¯s what I said!¡± Alice snapped her fingers. ¡°And then Charlie got mad at me.¡± ¡°It¡¯s unprofessional.¡± Charlie continued like no one had said anything. ¡°Investigation turned up something insane, though.¡± He tilted his head to the table where their third member was stacking up what looked like a bunch of flat metal coins, along with a trio of books. ¡°In the kid¡¯s houses, we found at least three of the spellbooks that they talked about. The less useful ones, if you¡¯re curious. Create chair, create towel, turn frog into bat. But we also found these, in one of the basements. And another stack in an attic.¡± He grabbed one of the smaller coins and held it out to James. ¡°Careful, it¡¯s a dungeon reward.¡± James took it gently, and turned it over in his hand. It was a simple bronze disc, with a few markings on it that he couldn¡¯t identify. Vaguely patterned looking etchings around the edge. ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡± He asked. ¡°Spell slots.¡± Alice told him. ¡°That one should be one slot at level one.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± James said, setting it back down without breaking it. Any unused dungeon loot had a value way above a single use, since the Order had access to the copier. ¡°Wait, in their houses? But they weren¡¯t there?¡± Charlie nodded. ¡°Yeah. From what we can tell, the families are generational delvers. We think that¡¯s how the kids found the place to begin with. The grandparents are all dead, though, and that¡¯s most likely where the stockpile came from. Parents were¡­ vaguely aware of it. I don¡¯t have the words for it.¡± He reached over and plucked a notebook out of Alice¡¯s hands, getting a ¡®hey!¡¯ from the younger woman. ¡°They were aware that we¡¯d dropped their kids off, and talked about the dungeon, but they didn¡¯t focus on it outside of the conversation. They don¡¯t seem to know about the dungeon itself, which makes us suspect that it developed information defenses recently. We¡¯re looking into the wills of the deceased grandparents tomorrow, and also a safety deposit box they left, if we can get to it.¡± He looked up at James with a click of his tongue. ¡°No information on where the kids went though.¡± ¡°I¡¯m terrified to ask, but what¡¯s the good news?¡± James said. ¡°Oh. Roberto here got accepted into MIT.¡± Charlie¡¯s mouth quirked up in a proud smile as he looked at their third teammate. ¡°He¡¯s taking credit for it, because he helped me with the application.¡± The young man said sheepishly. ¡°Also it¡¯s not that big a deal.¡± ¡°Hey, no, congrats!¡± James told him. ¡°It¡¯s easy to forget around here that the rest of the world exists sometimes! But also Charlie should feel bad for saving that news until after telling me about a bunch of missing kids!¡± ¡°He¡¯s not very tactful. That¡¯s what I¡¯m here for.¡± Alice informed James bluntly as she snatched her notebook back. ¡°We¡¯ll need a new third team member, though.¡± James felt like that might be the least important part of this conversation, but he promised to see what he could do, as the team informed him that they¡¯d have a more put together debrief ready and posted on the Order¡¯s servers later that day. ¡°Oh, do you actually know how the magic works, now?¡± He asked Charlie before he left. ¡°Insufficient data for a meaningful answer.¡± The man said instantly. Alice rolled her eyes. ¡°He says that to sound good about how we¡¯re clueless.¡± She informed James. He said a goodbye while he was laughing, high fived Roberto, quietly reminded the man that the Order would absolutely cover his tuition just so he wasn¡¯t worried about that, double checked with Ben that nothing had gone wrong in the five minutes he¡¯d been away, told Planner he was going home and that people could find him through one of his partners, and then got out of the building via telepad. He was taking the rest of the day off. Not that he didn¡¯t have a million things he should be doing. Interviews, check ins, stopping the engineers from lifting the building into orbit or something, and also at least one dungeon delve was probably going on today that he¡¯d love to be part of. But he¡¯d been shot. And that was a great excuse to just take a day to play a few video games, maybe take a walk to the cafe with his loves later, and generally let someone else handle the small stuff for a little while. He¡¯d be back tomorrow. Chapter 216 the internet is an inherently haunted place if you think about it like. it¡¯s so weird to see long abandoned discussion boards stuck in a snapshot of the past, old conversations between kids from over a decade ago who have now grown into their own lives, obituaries taking the form of half finished profiles. and the silence that fills the gaps between. there¡¯s a constant ghostly record of each generation¡¯s thoughts, fads, their sense of humor. back when the future was at their fingertips. even stranger, people you used to know exist openly in that space, and they watch you watching them. if you want, deceased musicians can play through your headphones. there¡¯s always an underlying sense of reminiscing and time escaping our ever shortening attention spans. What a fuckin¡¯ graveyard -fairycosmos, via tumblr- _____ The interesting part about the treasure chests that Clutter Ascent made was that they mirrored the nature of jigsaw puzzles in a bunch of different strange ways. Not in the actual unlocking puzzle itself, though. There were no pieces, no box top to reference, and no dining room table occupied like a battlefield of cardboard. Instead, there was just the empty blackness, and the abstract feeling of digging for a corner piece. When you tried to open one of the various dressers, trunks, armoires, or bins that Clutter Ascent had designated as places that gave you a reward, the first thing that happened was nothing. Suddenly, you¡¯d be somewhere else. Not even you, floating. Just a disembodied observer in an empty dark space. But, if you focused on a sensation; a sound, a scent, a sight, anything, and it happened to be what the puzzle was looking for, it would lock into place. And when you¡¯d built enough of the scene, it would let you go to collect your prize. A thing the Order had discovered fairly quickly was that it was possible to pull people out of the puzzle boxes, just by physically pulling them back. It wasn¡¯t a lethal trap if you somehow couldn¡¯t remember the scent of mint properly; someone could always get you out. The other thing was that the puzzles were solvable. No one had ever gotten one that they couldn¡¯t eventually put together, even if it required a lot of digging in their memories, or even extrapolating sensations they¡¯d never personally experienced. They were always possible for whoever opened them. James loved them. They were a beautiful toy, part art and part experience. A little terrifying, too, which seemed to be where he liked his entertainment to be these days, which might say a little too much about him. He¡¯d come to Clutter Ascent to check on a couple things, since literally anywhere was on your way home when you teleported everywhere, and after he¡¯d finished that, he¡¯d stopped at a set of drawers that had seemed perfectly placed in the radiant beam of a sunset through a high window to start digging for a corner piece. The first part, he¡¯d gotten almost by accident. His brain still processing the smell of dust and old wood from the attic had led to small traces of one of those scents sticking around, and James had followed it to the smell of pine sap. Letting it become more and more overwhelming as he leaned on it until it fully clicked into place. Then he let himself remember where he¡¯d smelled this before, childhood scenes of going to pick out a Christmas tree with his family leading him to add splashes of green pine branches and wet earth. A grey sky, so thick with clouds you couldn¡¯t tell how far down they reached, and a miserable drizzle of rain. Bit by bit, he painted the image the puzzle was looking for. A proud and towering pine tree that stood alone, the ground around it covered in dead needles and slightly dryer than the dirt beyond its protection. James had a lot of trouble getting the texture of the bark right, but eventually, even that he got right, along with the beads of aggravatingly sticky sap rolling down it at their own pace. When he¡¯d put the last touches on the puzzle¡¯s scene, he opened his eyes, the drawer he¡¯d reached out to touch sliding open easily in his hand. Inside, a pair of the small wooden dowels that the Attic liked to make sat, and for a brief second James thought they might have been glowing. He pocketed the treasure with a smile, and a soft thank you to the dungeon. This was the kind of challenge he wanted more of in the world. Something that pushed his creativity, that wanted him to be clever and cunning, but that wasn¡¯t trying to shoot or eat him. James decided he¡¯d see if Alanna wanted to share one of the relationsticks with him. There was, as Sarah was proving, no apparent maximum limit on how many you could have, and he thought it might be a nice gesture to be bonded to both his partners. Then James frowned and started second guessing himself, worrying that this might be taken as a kind of weird overcommitment. He was perfectly happy to spend the rest of his life with Anesh and Alanna. But he also didn¡¯t want them to think that he required that, and now that he¡¯d had the thought, it was hard to not think of offering someone a relationstick as a kind of enforced permanence to whatever relationship you happened to have. Like marriage, only fiat-backed. Also now that he thought of it, relationstick bonds were going to make messy breakups a whole order of magnitude worse, if that became a thing. James still thought he could shape a society that would statistically have fewer messy breakups, but he wasn¡¯t gonna delude himself into thinking he could wipe them out forever. And the presence of magic¡­ well, it didn¡¯t make things worse, exactly. But it did make things more. He resolved to talk to some people about it, and working it into how they were planning the world they wanted to live in, at a later point. For now, James headed home, strolling calmly back to the dungeon¡¯s entrance. He could have teleported out, of course. But using the telepads in and out of dungeons caused a lot of nausea, and sometimes random bleeding from the eyes and ears, which seemed bad. Besides, this way, he got to almost get run over by a small pack of multi-limbed furred creatures. The small blends of raccoons, spiders, and geckos blurring past as the five or six new life forms the dungeon had made hissed out newly learned words to each other and played among the stacks of old cardboard boxes and dusty furniture. James loved this dungeon. _____ ¡°I don¡¯t get how you¡¯re not more angry about this.¡± Alanna said. It was a little later in the evening. James had taken the day to just relax around his apartment. He¡¯d actually gotten to spent more than five minutes playing a video game for the first time in a while, caught up a little on his growing podcast backlog, cleaned their kitchen, been distracted by one of Anesh checking on him, been more distracted when their mild flirting had turned into about an hour of sex and cuddling under the warm blankets of their shared bed, and then made dinner. Making dinner had become something James was really happy to do. Anesh had said a while back that the yellow orbs had a secret power they didn¡¯t advertise, which was to let you skip the boring parts of learning something, and get right into knowing exactly how you were improving. And cooking was like that for James. He had magically bolstered knowledge on how to hold a knife, how to add spice to taste, how to make pancakes, and a couple other things besides. But since he knew a bunch of that stuff, he also knew how to learn more of it. He¡¯d gotten a head start, and honestly, he could have just been satisfied with what he got. But he hadn¡¯t done that. He was pretty sure that, at this point, if he got another skill orb in cooking, it would only round up maybe a half a rank. James felt like he¡¯d learned a lot, off that leg up. And now, he was sharing dinner with his partners, Sarah, Ganesh, and their canine roommate Auberdeen. He¡¯d asked Rufus if he¡¯d wanted anything, but the growing stapler had declined the invite, possibly because he didn¡¯t actually eat organic food like some other dungeon life did. It still baffled James that the camracondas could eat human food. Maybe Rufus could, but just didn¡¯t feel like spaghetti and meatballs. ¡°Sorry,¡± James said to Alanna as he swallowed the mouthful of garlic bread, ¡°I was thinking about¡­ nevermind. What am I not mad about?¡± ¡°You got shot!¡± Alanna rolled her eyes at him, clearly actually irate about the whole thing. ¡°And then you took the day off!¡± ¡°Okay, first off, I got better.¡± James told her, slowly twirling his fork in the spaghetti pile on his plate. They were actually all sitting around the table in their living room to eat, like they were a family or something, but this had the unfortunate side effect of meaning that any excess sauce splatter was at risk of going onto the couch James was sitting on, and he really didn¡¯t want to worry about that today. ¡°Also¡­ I dunno, what was I supposed to do? Declare revenge, sweep in, and annihilate the offending party?¡± ¡°I think a lot of people would say yes to that, actually.¡± Sarah interrupted. She was in the process of cutting the meatballs on Auberdeen¡¯s plate into quarters so the shaggy beast of a dog could daintily pick them off one by one, turning her head sideways to take precision bites off the table. Auberdeen didn¡¯t have any garlic bread, a fact the dog was offended by, even if she did understand every part of the food was bad for her. ¡°I mean, James, you¡¯ve talked to a lot of people about restorative justice, right? How often do you just run into someone who tells you it would be easier to shoot everyone that does certain crimes?¡± ¡°Constantly. But those people aren¡¯t Alanna.¡± James countered. ¡°Hey!¡± Alanna protested. ¡°I could be one of¡­! Wait, no. Sorry, I got carried away there. But actually, real talk, I did used to be one of those people. It took a while, and a lot of James and Anesh sharing verified statistical studies with me, to get me to pull my head out of my ass.¡± She gave a small snort as she remembered how she¡¯d used to think. ¡°It wasn¡¯t even that long ago, you know? I¡¯ve always thought we should fight to make the world better. But there was a big stretch where I was flat out wrong about what ¡®better¡¯ meant.¡± She paused, stopping with her fork halfway to her mouth. ¡°Okay, I just realized what I said. Sorry James, I dunno what you should be doing.¡± She admitted. Anesh slurped a stray noodle into his mouth, the tiny flick of the tip at the end sending a drop of sauce splattering off to destinations unknown as he ate his own dinner with less regard for their furniture than James had. ¡°I have a suggestion!¡± He said. ¡°What¡¯s your idea?¡± James asked with a happy smile. ¡°Just hang out here and make us pasta until this all blows over.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna lie, I kinda figured you¡¯d have liked the kebab I made the other day more than this. You¡¯re really into this, huh?¡± James smirked at his boyfriend. Both of him. While one Anesh took another mouthful of spaghetti noodles, the other one leveled his fork at James. ¡°That¡¯s a stereotype and you know it. Also your kebab needs a lot of work before it lives up to the legacy of proper London street food.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t kebab meant to be¡­ not¡­ British?¡± Sarah asked, raising her hand like she was in class. James gave her a half nod, wobbling his hand in front of himself. ¡°Sort of. It¡¯s obviously got an origin in the Middle East, possibly Turkey but no one can agree. But there¡¯s a lot of cities around Europe that have sort of assimilated the idea and really ran with it.¡± He shrugged and added, ¡°I¡¯m not really sure about how a lot of people feel about the ethics of stealing food ideas from other cultures, but honestly, since you can¡¯t actually take anything away, I¡¯m kinda cool with it. Anyway apparently my cooking isn¡¯t able to match random food carts from Anesh¡¯s hometown. So my ego takes a hit!¡± ¡°I love you though!¡± Anesh protested. ¡°And your Italian food!¡± The other Anesh at the table added. ¡°Calling this Italian food is probably an insult, being honest.¡± James informed him. ¡°It is good though. I put a lot of basil in the sauce, from the Lair¡¯s basement garden.¡± Alanna paused mid-bite. ¡°Is the basil cursed?¡± She asked. ¡°Or some grim experiment?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fresh.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°Anyway, yeah, I don¡¯t know what to do about the whole¡­ thing. Alanna¡¯s not wrong, I don¡¯t really feel that angry. I mostly just feel¡­ tired.¡± He found his hand shaking, and tried to slowly set his fork down on his plate, which almost worked the way he wanted it to. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± James suddenly felt a rush of distress overwhelm him. Remembering the sensation of being shot, the sight of his own gunfire taking half someone¡¯s head off, the sound and smell of gunfire. Older memories, too; similar scenes from scouring any resistance from the Status Quo building, or the sight of people he cared about being gunned down in the Lair during their retaliation. He jolted as Auberdeen let out a low, bassy woof, and Sarah gently set a hand on his arm. ¡°Hey.¡± She whispered to him. ¡°You need a minute?¡± ¡°No.¡± James answered, noticing his partners giving him worried looks too. Even Ganesh, who was currently hanging out on the mantle over their fireplace, had stopped and was watching him with the closest expression to concern that the little drone could produce. ¡°I¡¯m not a soldier.¡± He answered, his voice tight. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to fight people, you know? I don¡¯t think anyone is. I don¡¯t think soldier is a job that should exist. So I don¡¯t know how to give the right answer to what I should be doing. Fighting back just feels so stupid, when we have enough magic now that we shouldn¡¯t have to. So I¡¯m just gonna¡­ do nothing. Cook some food, do a dungeon adventure or two. Normal stuff. Maybe I just don¡¯t fucking care if a bunch of mercenaries get in a fight with a bunch of finance execs.¡± ¡°¡­Except that you absolutely do care about the people caught in the crossfire.¡± Sarah reminded him. James took a deep breath, taking in the smells of pasta sauce and a freshly vacuumed apartment. ¡°I do.¡± He said with a huff. ¡°But I¡¯m not mentally fortified to handle it all the time. So, you all get pasta.¡± Alanna rolled out of her chair, moving to stand behind James and envelope him in as much of a hug as she could with the couch in the way. ¡°Sorry.¡± She muttered into his hair. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to fuck up your night.¡± ¡°I get it though!¡± James told her, reaching up a hand to ruffle her hair. ¡°I¡¯d probably be more pissed if it¡¯d been you, not me, you know? So I get it. But also, we¡¯re gonna have a planning meeting tomorrow when there¡¯s a little more time to process the intel, and then make an informed decision on how to proceed. In the meantime, I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯m unsafe here, so¡­ yeah.¡± ¡°We have so many planning meetings.¡± Sarah gave a dramatic swoon. ¡°I miss the days of being an emotionally agile group of misfits!¡± ¡°Sarah, I dunno how to tell you this, but we¡¯re still way more flexible and adaptable than basically any organization of our size.¡± James gave an equally dramatic sigh. ¡°I dread being in charge of the world. I¡¯m barely mentally capable of going back to my old job now that we own the building. I can¡¯t imagine actually having a brain capable of doing a government.¡± Alanna perked up. ¡°That reminds me, are we doing an ohm run this week?¡± ¡°Ohm?¡± ¡°Oh-em. Officium Mundi.¡± Alanna explained. ¡°I mean¡­ if the building makes you uncomfortable¡­¡± James backtracked instantly, while Anesh and Sarah gave each other a knowing look at the expression on his face. ¡°Oh! It¡¯s not that bad! I¡¯m being a ham, and I¡¯m not giving up my dungeon time! Even in the middle of an ongoing large scale operation or whatever we¡¯re calling this spy nonsense. Dungeons are how I relax.¡± With a slow blink, Sarah opened her mouth and looked at the others for support. Anesh just shook his head, resigned to this, while Alanna gave her a grin that was only barely sheepish because she, too, relaxed in the dungeons. ¡°James.¡± Sarah said slowly. ¡°You can¡¯t just use the dungeons as vacations. They¡¯re awesome, but¡­ man, I was gonna try to distract you from everything serious talking about how we should be seriously thinking about ¡®builds¡¯ for our magic, and you¡¯re really ruining my clever plan by being weird. ¡°First of all, I¡¯m not weird. Plenty of people find the dungeons refreshingly direct. Look at Alanna.¡± James pointed up at his girlfriend. ¡°Also, while you¡¯re looking at Alanna, I was going to try to distract myself by drawing attention to how you still need to talk-¡° ¡°Nope!¡± Alanna leaned down on James¡¯ shoulders, the pressure actually somewhat uncomfortable as her mass ground the rough material of his shirt into his skin. She cut him off without actually knowing what he was going to bring up, but judging by how Sarah had turned bright red, Alanna was sort of regretting it. Still, this was more important. ¡°We¡¯re gonna talk about how you need a non-magical hobby!¡± ¡°I have a non magical hobby!¡± James protested. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m with him here.¡± Anesh said, levering the last thin piece of garlic bread he had at James. ¡°I mean, first off, we¡¯re all messed up anyway. But James does cook, which is mundane.¡± With a wince, James bit his lip and made a long ¡®Eh¡¯ sound. ¡°To be fair¡­¡± he admitted, ¡°I did use my Horizon spell when chopping garlic. And a lot of my cooking knowledge is magic. And also every time I make paella it¡¯s with magically spawned saffron. And¡­¡± ¡°James I love you, why do you do this to me?¡± An Anesh asked while the other one just crammed the last of the garlic bread into his mouth and buried his head in his hands. ¡°Being difficult is fun when it¡¯s not serious.¡± James answered, and instantly regretted it as Auberdeen took his words to her canine heart and started trying to weasel her white furred nose up under his arm and onto his plate where the meal he¡¯d been only half focusing on still sat, complete with a surviving meatball. ¡°Also, I play basketball! I fence!¡± He protested as he tried to wrestle Auberdeen away. ¡°You magically become a better shot by improving at basketball, that doesn¡¯t count.¡± Sarah reminded him. ¡°And¡­ something about fencing¡­ that makes you wrong.¡± ¡°Maybe he has a magic sword?¡± Alanna suggested. ¡°I bet he cheats somehow.¡± Anesh said in unison with himself and a sagely nod. He was one of the handful of people James actually spent time learning practical swordfighting with, so he took his opportunity for a small amount of revenge for every dumb tactic James had pulled in their time together. James rolled his eyes. ¡°I mean, probably. But also being real, we don¡¯t have a lot of time for that. I could, I dunno¡­ take up drawing? I bet Maker¡¯s Hand would totally work on that, and I¡¯ve got a few skill ranks. Maybe I could make some cool dungeon landscape art.¡± He snapped his fingers. ¡°Actually, I wonder if that would do anything with the new glove power I made the other day! That¡¯d be cool to find out.¡± With a long and drawn out groan, Sarah threw herself out of her seat and rolled across the floor, passing under the table to karate chop James in the ankles. ¡°Nooooooooo.¡± She chastised him. ¡°Something with less magic so you can relaxxxxxx.¡± ¡°Sarah, literally nothing in our lives is ever going to be seperate from magic again.¡± James said softly, pulling his legs back up to avoid her, and losing his grip on Auberdeen as he did so, shortly after losing his last meatball. He gave an amused huff as she absconded with the morsel, spaghetti noodles trailing behind as she snapped it up and shuffled back at high speed. ¡°Everything I¡¯m interested in, I¡¯ve always been interested in, but now I can do it better, splashier, and with more weirdness. This is¡­¡± his voice threatened to catch in his throat. ¡°This is literally all I ever wanted. I can pick anything that interests me, and just dive in. This is the dream of humanity. Our civilization is built by people standing on the shoulders of giants, and now we can fucking teleport up there and skip the climb. I¡¯m just not interested in pretending that there¡¯s some kind of emotional trade off in doing it the old way.¡± He trailed off, not sure if he was making his point properly. After a minute, an Anesh that had been takinga pile of dishes to the kitchen walked by and draped himself over the arm of the couch next to James, staring up at him and Alanna. ¡°You¡¯ve been saving that up for a while, huh?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± James smiled at his boyfriend. ¡°I guess I understand.¡± Sarah couldn¡¯t keep a smile off her face as the two of them made doe eyes at each other. ¡°Which means-¡° ¡°Which means,¡± Alanna cut her off excitedly, ¡°that we should talk about builds!¡± James grinned and settled back as Anesh wiggled into his lap while Anesh grabbed the last couple plates on the table, excluding the bowl of grapes they were all still picking at, and took them away. ¡°Okay, sure.¡± He said, stretching out and letting his hands playfully rub Alanna¡¯s arms overhead until the angle made him flop back down again. ¡°We¡¯ll allow this.¡± ¡°We?¡± Sarah exclaimed. ¡°Okay, yes, we. I¡¯m interested too. We have so much magic now, it¡¯s kind of hilarious.¡± She couldn¡¯t keep the grin off her own face. With a snap of her fingers, Alanna nodded. ¡°Exactly!¡± She said. ¡°We¡¯ve got skill ranks, species ranks, office items, status quo items, shell upgrades, infomorphs, different infomorphs, different infomorphs, sewer lessons, horizon spells, mountain spells, blue orb spells, orange orb repeatable jobs, making our own blue items, new weird magic from Utah that no one has explained to me yet, horizon¡­ car¡­ things¡­¡± ¡°Potions, too.¡± Anesh added. ¡°Magic coffee.¡± James contributed. ¡°Which is like a potion, so I¡¯ll shut up.¡± He said as Anesh reached up to swipe a finger across his nose with a laugh. ¡°Relationsticks? You forgot the important one?¡± Sarah put a hand covered in tattooed circles to her chest with mock horror. ¡°Alanna, I thought we were friends!¡± ¡°I thought you were-¡° James didn¡¯t get a chance to finish his teasing sentence before Alanna rolled over him. His girlfriend was pacing now, using the slightly less limited space that their apartment, continually enhanced by green orbs, had between their living room and the porch. ¡°The thing is, we¡¯ve got all this stuff, but we don¡¯t really make it coherent!¡± She said, her hands folding and unfolding as she moved and spoke like she was giving a college lecture. ¡°We can even control for a lot of variables that we couldn¡¯t before. We already copy purple orbs to outfit people for Response or whatever weird spy agency JP is trying to build. We¡¯ve got the Climb spells too, which we already know about and can reuse. And magic items we can sort of recreate on demand now if we have the blues. So, why aren¡¯t we being more proactive about making streamlined paths to power that we can hand to people who need them for their specific jobs?¡± ¡°Okay, do you want the good answer, or the bad answer?¡± James asked. ¡°Bad answer, obviously. I want to feel smug for a little bit.¡± Alanna said. ¡°It¡¯s kind of a lot of work.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯d basically need to have part of our admin team working full time to keep track of things, and while we could do that, I don¡¯t think we have what it we need right now to really make it shine.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the good reason? Can I jump in and ask?¡± Sarah asked anyway. James nodded at her. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m taking control of this TED talk.¡± He said stoically. ¡°The good reason is¡­ okay, you know how Nik switched from Research to Response? Or how Alex is working in the hospital now? That kind of thing. That¡¯s why. There¡¯s a sort of holistic chaos to how we organize ourselves right now, where someone getting a new skill orb or power can make them suddenly suited to something they find a lot more of a connection to than they had before. And I worry that stratifying how we hand out magic to non-delvers who don¡¯t have direct access will make it¡­ well, stratified, really. Where people would get stuck in jobs they didn¡¯t want, just while they¡¯re better at them.¡± Alanna nodded and folded her arms blowing a strand of her hair out of her face as she gave a grudging nod to James. ¡°That¡¯s a good point. But also, nothing says that we can¡¯t still have that, while also having better designed kits for specialist roles.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± James admitted in turn. ¡°My point is¡­ why don¡¯t we do that?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Like, why don¡¯t we actually try to optimize for a second, and stop bouncing around whatever random magic is disrupting our lives this week?¡± ¡°¡­Because¡­¡± Sarah raised her hand tentatively. ¡°Because it keeps disrupting our lives?¡± She asked. ¡°Okay, so, being fair to my lovely partner, we do have the armory packages.¡± James said. ¡°This is just, what, an upgrade to that?¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Alanna grinned. ¡°Like, what can we put together to give a small team the best shot at any new dungeon? Just as an example.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James nodded. ¡°I¡¯m into this. So, are we being hypothetical here, or realistic?¡± Anesh gave him a questioning glance. ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± His boyfriend asked. ¡°We don¡¯t have unlimited resources, and the copier is best spent on curing cancer.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s kind of¡­ I mean, it¡¯s a little overwhelming. Fixing cancer isn¡¯t literally the maximum utility we can get, but it¡¯s hard to argue for anything else most of the time.¡± ¡°Okay, realistic.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Like, using minimal resources, maybe¡­ maybe one copy. What can we get?¡± Sarah chimed in. ¡°Well, the easy thing we should focus on are things that we can¡¯t or don¡¯t need to copy, right? Relationsticks, and mountain magic.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Wait, can you not copy the sticks?¡± James asked. ¡°You can, but you don¡¯t need to, and copied sticks don¡¯t actually have any special properties. Like, they don¡¯t repeat anything, or work the same as their copies. Does that make sense? Did I just muck up that explanation?¡± Sarah scrunched up her face, then shook her head rapidly. ¡°Copied sticks no!¡± She declared. ¡°There!¡± ¡°So, if we¡¯re thinking of a three person team, let¡¯s say.¡± Alanna bravely rolled on, trying to keep the contagious laughter Anesh was currently dying of from overtaking her. ¡°Relationsticks are easy, but unpredictable. What division of mountain spells then?¡± ¡°I mean, some of the mountain spells are pure utility, and not actually¡­ delver suited? Like mine!¡± He grinned as he mused on his ability to break physics by making a one way temperature connection between two points. ¡°But if you wanna look at this as a delver team, you could just go tank-DPS-healer, and say Mountain of the Self, Fractal Avalanche, Iced Veins, right? Invulnerability, a charge attack, and a quick blood recovery spell, that¡¯s basically every RPG party¡¯s perfect thing, right? And the investment is just carrying them up the Mountain to open up the first spell slot, we¡¯ve already got the books.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kinda boring though.¡± Sarah said, before waving Alanna off with a frantic flap of her arm out from under the table. ¡°Yes, I know that boring works, don¡¯t sass me! You are absolutely not allowed to sass me when you still haven¡¯t picked a spell!¡± ¡°Wait, seriously?¡± James raised his eyebrows at his partner. ¡°Even Anesh picked a spell. Though, granted, Anesh picked the math one.¡± Alanna¡¯s cheeks reddened slightly. ¡°We keep finding more textbooks! We¡¯ve got, what, two actual dedicated Climb teams? There¡¯s a lot more selection now, and I wanna wait for one that¡¯s perfect for me.¡± ¡°What is our list now?¡± Sarah asked, now just resigned to laying on the floor under the table. ¡°I haven¡¯t actually been to the mountain yet, because I¡¯ve-¡° ¡°Been busy¡± Everyone else chorused at once. Even Auberdeen gave a double woof that mimicked the cadence of the well-loved words. Sarah squeaked at them. ¡°You¡¯re all awful!¡± She lied. ¡°Someone tell me about magic!¡± James smiled and called up the list from the Order¡¯s server through his skulljack link to their internet, stealing Chevoy¡¯s idea wholesale. ¡°So, we¡¯ve got the four we said so far. And then there¡¯s one that steals heat from around you into a target object, one that makes a snow beast, one that makes a temporary limb out of ice, one that makes it so you can¡¯t fall over, and one that removes friction temporarily. Oh, also, there¡¯s a note that the more damaged a book is, the lower its duration, the higher the breath cost, and generally the worse it is.¡± He paused. ¡°Did I just say ¡®snow beast¡¯?¡± ¡°You did.¡± ¡°I want that one!¡± Alanna declared. ¡°I changed my mind, that sounds metal as fuck.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the size of a cat and if you don¡¯t supply the snow, it doesn¡¯t last long.¡± ¡°I changed my mind!¡± Alanna counter-declared. James snorted. ¡°Anyway. No one has tackled another fairy ring yet, because the dragons are actually terrifying, but it¡¯s worth noting that we can maybe make a new book out of something else if we get there. And that one would be at ¡®full strength¡¯.¡± ¡°We should try to put a Horizon spell into it, just to see what it does.¡± Anesh suggested. ¡°Get Dorothy up there, and have her feed it the spell she has that lets her telekinesis a ball of petrol. Let the Climb figure that wankery out.¡± ¡°Or, or!¡± Sarah pressed her fingertips together, popping up over the edge of the table. ¡°Give it a relationship? Would that work?¡± ¡°Who even knows anymore?¡± Alanna sighed. ¡°I feel like we got really off topic here.¡± ¡°I mean, what are we supposed to even theorycraft here?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, do you want me to say that we can rapidly empower people with Sewer books by making .mem files and having a copy run for the same book over and over? On a practical level, anyone who takes it would never be able to advance past the first rank or two, because they¡¯d be sharing the lesson with a hundred other people, but if they all take the same .mem we could rapidly give anyone we wanted a couple ranks in a stat. Is that, I dunno, worth it?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Or we could talk about potions! Oh! Let¡¯s talk about potions! You know how the Stacks orbs work, right?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t?¡± Alanna said, and Auberdeen agreed with a questioning bark. ¡°We don¡¯t.¡± Alanna pointed at the dog. ¡°Sorry, kinda out of the loop. I¡¯ve been-¡° ¡°Busy.¡± Everyone said, and she rolled her eyes at them. ¡°Uh, as far as Reed and I have tested, they¡¯re a 30% boost to learning per rank.¡± James told them. ¡°Or, okay, well, I say ¡®learning¡¯ because I¡¯m applying my own cultural bias of what a library is supposed to be. They¡¯re more like a 30% boost to¡­ uh¡­ an abstract blob of things that include learning? Look, you know how the potion that fixes skin takes a goat heart, right?¡± ¡°¡­I absolutely did not know that.¡± Anesh cleared his throat. One of him had left the room at this point, probably to go get some sleep. He¡¯d been awake for a while, and this him was getting kind of sleepy himself. He was a little jealous of his other him, who got to fall asleep to the comforting sounds of James being confusing from the living room. ¡°Why does it do that?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t ask questions about the alchemy.¡± Sarah dragged herself up to rejoin the conversation, planting her arms on the edge of the table and plopping her head down so she could stare at Anesh with pursed lips. ¡°They don¡¯t make sense.¡± ¡°The point is, the goat heart is a part of it, and when someone who had a species rank in the relevant kind of goat made it, it lasted longer.¡± James finished his thought, desperate to not get sidetracked too far. ¡°I would guess, and Research has theorized, which is like guessing but professional, that it lasted longer equal to 30% of whatever percentage of the brew the goat heart represents.¡± James looked around, and realized that Alanna and Sarah were quietly talking about feeding different dungeon abilities to mountain spells, and he¡¯d lost the train of the conversation. ¡°Anesh, you care about the goat, right?¡± He murmured to the boyfriend laying on the couch with his head in his lap. ¡°No, but I¡¯m comfortable here.¡± Anesh said. ¡°But actually, that¡¯s kind of interesting. We should figure out if we can get enhancements for any other brews. Are there species ranks for plants?¡± ¡°Not so far?¡± James questioned. Then he just checked the Research database, remembering that he was a transhuman entity that had the internet in his brain. ¡°No.¡± He amended. ¡°There are not.¡± Anesh clicked his tongue. ¡°You know, all this sidetracking aside, Alanna does have a point. We could stand to have easily accessible power sets, for anyone who wants to get into a certain role. The problem is, so many of the choices are permanent. You can¡¯t swap out spells, or undo an orange absorbing. If someone takes the powers to be a perfect truck driver, and then decides they hate it, we can give them a different job, but their magic will always be truck-focused. That¡¯s¡­ I mean, this is just a gut feeling from me, but you can probably tell me why that¡¯s bad?¡± He looked up at James with worried eyes. James paused in idly stroking his boyfriend¡¯s head, and gave a wince. ¡°Yeah, pretty much.¡± He said. ¡°This is basically just replicating some of the worst problems of a cyberpunk world. There¡¯s also the question of making certain powers a requirement once they¡¯re available, even if that locks out choices to the individual. I don¡¯t¡­ I mean, I get where Alanna¡¯s coming from. I do.¡± He and Anesh both looked over to where Alanna and Sarah had thrown up their arms at the same time and yelled the word ¡®friendship¡¯ with complete enthusiasm and beaming smiles. ¡°And I don¡¯t think she¡¯s thinking of building a dystopia. Hell, if we build society the way I want it, this¡¯ll never be a problem. But we need to be aware of the problem before it becomes a problem. One of the perks of keeping the magic mostly random and hectic is¡­ well, we can¡¯t abuse it. And if we can¡¯t abuse it, we can¡¯t abuse each other.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not true at all.¡± Anesh gave a sad shake of his head. ¡°But I get what you mean.¡± He stifled a yawn, holding the back of a hand to his mouth. ¡°I feel like this is something we¡¯re going to make sure we have absolutely locked down before we start inviting people to our magical city state.¡± He added, and got a frantic agreeing nod from James. They sat like that for a bit, both of them relaxing in the warm apartment while Sarah and Alanna remembered how to not be slightly awkward around each other and, as far as James could tell, excitedly blurted random words at each other while Ganesh and Auberdeen acted as some kind of judges. ¡°I feel like I missed something here.¡± James told Anesh. ¡°What are they doing?¡± ¡°Thinking of things to make mountain spellbooks out of.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°You know, if we¡¯re talking synergies,¡± Anesh gave James an innocent smile as his boyfriend made an exasperated sigh, ¡°you mentioned Arrush¡¯s idea for using the reading potion before using a Sewer lesson. Did that work?¡± ¡°Hasn¡¯t come up yet. No new Sewer delves in a while, it¡¯s kept the door hidden or shut.¡± James said. ¡°But I¡¯m gonna try it if I can. I think I can handle a third lesson. I¡¯m basically at the point where I¡¯ll only get a rank from biology or basketball every decade now, so making it worse isn¡¯t actually something I have the time frame to contextualize as ¡®bad¡¯.¡± ¡°Hm. We¡¯ll need someone without one to test it too, for reference.¡± Anesh mused. ¡°Anyway. Why not also try that with the mountain spells? Alanna still needs one, and we can try it with her.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll agree to that.¡± James agreed easily. ¡°Also¡­ do we maybe want to try tackling Winter¡¯s Climb again in the next week or so? Assuming nothing goes horribly wrong in the next few days. I think we¡¯re good enough now that we could make it up a lot farther, if we play it safe and use what the advance teams have learned, you know? And I want to go high enough that we get more spell slots.¡± Anesh made a small wince. ¡°Is it¡­ okay if I say no?¡± He said. ¡°I just¡­ I¡¯m not feeling like more delves, especially for magic I don¡¯t think I need now. And I had a few things planned. But maybe¡­ just hanging out more? I do like you after all.¡± ¡°I like that plan.¡± James leaned down to spontaneously try to kiss Anesh, with his boyfriend having to rise up to meet him. ¡°I like you, too, in case that wasn¡¯t clear.¡± He said. ¡°Oh good, otherwise this would be weird.¡± Anesh smirked. ¡°Also, I¡¯m kinda getting tired. I think I might go to bed. Thanks for dinner, by the way, if I didn¡¯t say it. That was great.¡± He said. ¡°Aaw!¡± Alanna¡¯s attention on them brought their attention to where she was standing at the other arm of the couch. ¡°I was gonna ask if anyone wanted to go on a walk! I¡¯m tired too, and I want coffee!¡± ¡°It¡¯s 7 PM?¡± Anesh said. Then remembered who he was talking to. ¡°Nevermind.¡± ¡°I¡¯m more concerned with it being freezing outside.¡± James said. ¡°Don¡¯t you not get cold?¡± Sarah asked him with a suspicious look. ¡°I swear I¡¯ve seen your character sheet, and you don¡¯t get cold.¡± ¡°No, Alanna doesn¡¯t get cold. I don¡¯t get hot.¡± James corrected her. ¡°Bah. You¡¯re plenty hot to me.¡± Alanna declared. ¡°Oh my god.¡± James started shuffling himself down under the table, throwing Anesh off as he tried to escape. ¡°Wow that¡¯s adorable.¡± Sarah grinned at them. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m out for walking. I need to head over to Clutter to check on a raincloud, and then I¡¯m going to one of the new species adaptation meetings as the token human who can answer context questions.¡± ¡°Say hi to Banana for me.¡± Alanna told her. ¡°James? Walk?¡± Then she pivoted her gaze slightly. ¡°Auberdeen? Waaaaaalk?¡± The dog woofed enthusiastically, and James, feeling the growing peer pressure of almost half the people in the room, relented. ¡°Alright, alright. Let me go find the dress shirt I got from Officium Mundi that stills wind around it so I at least won¡¯t completely freeze to death.¡± ¡°I knew you had a thing to not get cold!¡± Sarah exclaimed. They milled around for a bit, which was a weird way of saying they lingered in their own apartment sharing company, while James got dressed and Alanna and Auberdeen got in a staring contest over whether or not a leash was necessary. Anesh gave Ganesh some attention, though the little drone declined the invitation to come with them. He¡¯d more or less retired from dungeon activities at this point, which Anesh was fine with. His small friend never seemed to be as excited about it as the others, possibly because he¡¯d grown up in the Office before anyone really put thought into how they could make the lives of their dungeon life friends better as opposed to just treating them as convenient allies. Sarah threw the door open at one point when there was a scratching at it, letting a wash of cold air come in and give half the people in the room shivers as she knelt down to give a series of pets and accolades to the dog that had magically shown up on their door. She invited the German Shepard puppy into the apartment if they wanted to warm up and maybe have a meatball before leaving, and the dog cautiously accepted, even though unlike Auberdeen they probably didn¡¯t actually understand the words themselves. Auberdeen assented to this foreign dog with grace and poise, which devolved into unfortunate sniffs and an attempted dive tackle from the puppy fairly shortly. By the time James came back, the new good dog was fed and on his way. They still hadn¡¯t found out if the dogs come from nowhere, or somewhere, or where they go to afterward, but they¡¯re always happy to be around, and so far only Auberdeen has actually stayed with them for very long. She didn¡¯t seem inclined to leave though, and James was fine with that. ¡°Alright.¡± James and Alanna gave Anesh a shared kiss goodnight before he opened the door again. ¡°Sarah, I¡¯ll see ya later. Anesh, sleep well. Let¡¯s go freeze to death for a mocha.¡± He bravely strode out into the night, Alanna and Auberdeen following him with a smile and the dog equivalent of a smile on their faces. _____ James had a thick coat that he was still getting used to, a pair of perfectly normal but impressively warm gloves he¡¯d stolen from the Climbing gear, and might actually have had some magic power that kept him warm that he¡¯d forgotten about. He was still cold. He took a minute, as Auberdeen rampaged through the frozen grass that surrounded the walking path he and Alanna were on, to be envious of the white furred beast. For one thing, she didn¡¯t seem to be cold at all, and right now, that felt like enough of a superpower to him. But also, he coveted just how easily Auberdeen switched off the part of herself that understood three languages and was a trained aircraft pilot, and just¡­ became a dog. How quickly she just let go of everything serious, to run around and play in some grass. It was a feeling that James remembered, in the abstract. He must have felt that way as a kid, right? But then he remembered how he¡¯d gotten in trouble multiple times while in kindergarten, for not wanting to do the gym exercises the teacher told them to, because he was afraid of looking silly. Maybe he¡¯d always been an awkward mess. ¡°Hey, Alanna?¡± He asked his girlfriend, who was also not wearing a coat and also didn¡¯t seem cold, and who he was equally jealous of. ¡°Sup?¡± She said, turning away from watching Auberdeen try to decide if she could hop the drainage trench with a glowing smile on her face. ¡°Am I an awkward mess?¡± He asked her. ¡°Yup.¡± Alanna gave him a sagely nod. ¡°You kinda always have been, honestly.¡± ¡°I knew it!¡± James huffed to himself. Alanna gave an airy chuckle. ¡°Weirdly, it kinda all goes out the window whenever your life is in danger. You¡¯re really good at giving dramatic speeches when someone¡¯s trying to shoot you.¡± ¡°Oh fuck off.¡± James gave a snort of a laugh and leaned over to bump shoulders with her. ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± Alanna said, still in a cheerful mood. ¡°It¡¯s like the threat of death turns off the part of you that¡¯s worried all the time, and then it¡¯s just bam! Professional speechwriter stuff!¡± James felt his neck and cheeks heating up despite the freezing air. ¡°Oh my god stop.¡± He muttered ineffectively. ¡°I¡¯m never gonna talk again.¡± He grumbled. Alanna just laughed, and they kept walking for a bit as Auberdeen crashed through the underbrush and rejoined them with a regal bearing like she hadn¡¯t just been frolicking in the frozen foliage. It wasn¡¯t long before one of them spoke again, though. Not that they couldn¡¯t exist in silence, but both Alanna and James were just more at home constantly sharpening their thoughts with words. ¡°So, I¡¯ve been thinking.¡± Alanna started, and James gave a hum but didn¡¯t interrupt her. ¡°Those people up in Alaska. Priority Earth, or whatever.¡± ¡°Classic ecoterrorists, yeah.¡± James agreed with a nod. ¡°Except for the magic, and the targeted assassinations. I think? I feel like most ecoterrorists don¡¯t go for assassinations.¡± ¡°Right, that¡¯s sorta what I wanted to ask about.¡± Alanna said. ¡°So, obviously car bombs are bad. I wanna start there, before I say something stupid.¡± ¡°I assumed we were on the same page there.¡± James told her. Alanna gave a rapid and floppy nod. ¡°Right!¡± She said, before continuing. ¡°But what if, and go with me on this journey, they aren¡¯t totally wrong?¡± ¡°Is this gonna be about using violence to achieve change?¡± James asked. ¡°Because I don¡¯t wanna do that.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve done it before.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°Smaller scale, yeah, but¡­ we didn¡¯t just let the status quo stick around, and I mean that as a double entendre. I don¡¯t think we should pretend that violence doesn¡¯t fix some problems.¡± James winced, and made an uncomfortable ¡®ehhhh¡¯ noise in his throat. ¡°Okay, so, I get what you¡¯re saying.¡± He said. ¡°But I¡¯ve had this conversation a lot, since we got the ability to teleport anywhere, and I feel like I really need to highlight the fact that a lot of our fights have been defensive in nature. I want to make a distinction, at least for this little chat, between ¡®violence¡¯ and ¡®self defense¡¯.¡± ¡°I¡¯m cool with that.¡± Alanna says. ¡°It doesn¡¯t actually derail my point, anyway. Which is that I think maybe blowing up certain infrastructure targets owned by certain industries or governments is self defense, in a way. The oil industry is strangling the planet to death, trying to hold on to relevance. At what point does their suppression of information and technologies become a literal attack that needs to be stopped, you know?¡± ¡°Oof. I¡¯m the wrong person to ask about that, because a big part of me wants to say ¡®immediately¡¯, and then start making plans to go break shit.¡± James admitted. ¡°And I have this feeling like breaking shit just isn¡¯t a good way to build a healthy utopia.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s the thing,¡± Alanna said, almost sadly, ¡°breaking shit works sometimes. Why is that feeling wrong, just because it¡¯s slightly destructive?¡± ¡°Okay, you say ¡®slightly¡¯, but I am pretty sure you¡¯re talking about something like annihilation of large scale infrastructure and logistics networks?¡± James pointed out. ¡°Also, for the oil thing at least, it¡¯s because at this point, civilization actually relies on it. Oh, don¡¯t get me wrong, it must be replaced, or we¡¯re all doomed. But if we start with the breaking and not the replacing, then we¡¯re going to kill a lot of people.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I feel like we¡¯ve got the magic to do it bloodlessly?¡± ¡°We could certainly try!¡± James nodded as they came to a wooden footbridge, the sound of Auberdeen¡¯s claws on the wood making clicks that blended with the sound of water flowing below them. ¡°But even if we¡¯re trying to not kill anyone, that doesn¡¯t mean they won¡¯t score kills on us, or that something won¡¯t go wrong, or, and this is kind of the important part, that there would be a staggering amount of collateral damage.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°I wanna repeat that thing about how this makes me very angry, because we¡¯ve inherited a system that sucks. To quote a fun Offspring song, ¡®shit is fucked up¡¯. But if we shut down the production and use of oil, we are condemning millions of people to starve to death. There are huge parts of the world where trucks or cargo ships are just how food gets put where it needs to be. We could blow up every coal plant on the planet in an orgy of arcane violence, and vastly improve the stability of the environment, and also kill pretty much anyone who relies on modern medical technology or ¡®the existence of interior heating¡¯ to survive.¡± ¡°Actions have consequences.¡± Alanna summed up as he took a pause. ¡°I get it. But that¡¯s all big scale stuff. What about smaller things? Why aren¡¯t we shutting down disinformation campaigns by breaking a few keyboards, or yoinking people out of prison for their weed-crimes?¡± ¡°I mean, we should do those things, sure.¡± James agreed, after a brief pause while they walked past a couple out for a chilly night time stroll. Neither of them really wanted to talk about what amounted to domestic terrorism that openly. ¡°Oh, actually, I kind of wanted to talk about something like this. Remember Frank?¡± Alanna shot a look his way. ¡°Frank, old guy Frank? Murderer Frank? Frank who tried to feed Daniel to the dungeon Frank? That Frank? The Frank that tried to shoot you?¡± ¡°Yes, that Frank.¡± James nodded. ¡°Thank you. So, I¡¯m kind of feeling bad for putting him in prison?¡± ¡°Okay, two things.¡± Alanna held up a hand. ¡°One, the police put him there, we barely had to do anything. He legitimately had all the evidence against himself already, we just¡­ made it slightly visible.¡± She kept going before James could debat that point, but he wasn¡¯t planning to say anything anyway; she was right after all. ¡°Second thing? Fuck Frank.¡± ¡°I mean, sure, but¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± Alanna stopped, James getting a few steps up the slight hill they were on before realizing she was standing still, arms crossed, behind him. She looked up at his face as he turned to look at her, seeing him framed by the streetlights ahead of them in the cold air. ¡°No, James.¡± Alanna said, voice firm. This one, this thing, she knew for certain. ¡°I know what you¡¯re gonna say. You want to break Frank out, and run him through the same kind of restorative justice thing we¡¯re doing with the Horizonists and the Alchemists and that one sex cult leader guy that JP brought back last year. But I¡¯m-¡° ¡°The what?!¡± James cut her off. ¡°-I¡¯m telling you right now.¡± Alanna ignored him. ¡°You don¡¯t need to feel bad about Frank. Fuck Frank!¡± She unfolded one arm just enough to point at James, driving home what she was trying to say. ¡°Frank wasn¡¯t just a murderer, or a capitalist, James. He fucking sold people into the worst kind of slavery possible, then he used the money to buy a bar sit on his ass being self-righteous all fucking day! Your idea of a perfect future had a whole different picture of justice, and I¡¯m cool with it, but we¡¯re not in that world yet. We¡¯re in the world where there¡¯s people in jail for inconveniencing banks, or saying they¡¯d like a government that doesn¡¯t imprison people at random, or just smoking the wrong plant! Hell, there¡¯s literal murderers who are more deserving of a place in your utopia than that guy. If you want to put Frank on the list of people we should help, that¡¯s cool, but if he¡¯s not at the very fucking bottom, I¡¯m gonna be really pissed at you!¡± While she was talking, Auberdeen had stopped between the two of them, and was moving her furry head back and forth, looking at the two humans who were having an ideological dispute. On the road just past where James was standing, a truck rumbled by. The wind picked up. The night got even colder, and while Alanna didn¡¯t notice, James jammed his hands into his pockets. ¡°Are you¡­¡± James ventured, ¡°upset because he shot you?¡± ¡°My hand hurts all the time!¡± Alanna¡¯s abrupt answer wasn¡¯t devoid of humor, but it didn¡¯t do much to diffuse the tension. ¡°And¡­ and it¡¯s a bit harder to fix things when someone did permanent damage like that.¡± She muttered, fingers clenching. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said, eventually. ¡°I know.¡± He turned, and kept walking, and Alanna and Auberdeen rapidly caught up to him, his partner keeping some space from him just in case she¡¯d actually made him mad. But that wasn¡¯t exactly what James was feeling. He was just¡­ tired. ¡°Tired and overwhelmed.¡± He said out loud. ¡°The emotional combination I get every time I try to think of fixing anything big.¡± He looked over at Alanna. ¡°I keep looking for¡­ footholds, I guess? Places we can just start to crack in at things. And¡­ ah, fuck it. I just wanted to find a place to start working our way through how shitty and ineffective our justice system is, and Frank¡¯s the guy I know we put in there.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Alanna shrugged, moving closer to him as they stepped off the walking path and onto the normal sidewalk, black asphalt traded for white concrete, trees for lamp posts and too many cars nearby. ¡°But you know we can just pick anyone and start there, right?¡± She paused. ¡°Or, alternately, because we just flat out don¡¯t have the facilities for it now, we can keep working on your thing.¡± ¡°My thing?¡± James raised his eyebrows, considering making a lewd joke. ¡°Your city thing, you dork.¡± Alanna laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t think I can¡¯t sense a suggestive tone! But yeah. We¡¯re not a hundred years away from it, we¡¯re getting there. Don¡¯t we have a whole apartment complex packed into a single basement room now? We¡¯re fucking making progress!¡± ¡°I¡­ yes?¡± James felt a swell of shared pride at how far they¡¯d come, but he still had a question. ¡°I don¡¯t see how this relates.¡± ¡°It relates because we¡¯re right there!¡± Alanna said excitedly. ¡°You don¡¯t need to stress about fixing the whole justice system right now, dude. You can wait just a little longer until we¡¯ve got an established place to work in, on our terms, and then set up a thing for it.¡± Alanna smiled at him. ¡°You remember roughly four hundred years ago when you told me about the dungeon, and you said you and Anesh were worried about how I¡¯d react, because you weren¡¯t using the power for good?¡± ¡°Vaguely. My old-man memory is pretty hazy.¡± James smiled back. ¡°Yeah, well. I told you that it was fine, because you were going to do good. The responsibility of power is to be used. That means, you actually have to be able to use it first.¡± Alanna wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him closer, effortlessly shifting James with her physique. ¡°But also, fuck Frank.¡± James burst out laughing. ¡°Ahhh, man, and here I was thinking we¡¯d spend this walk talking about how to deal with someone having a crush on you.¡± ¡°On me? No one has a crush on me.¡± Alanna said with absolute and wildly inaccurate conviction. Even Auberdeen didn¡¯t believe her, the big dog giving Alanna a headbutt and a chastising deep woof, while James just tilted his head up and stared at her until she let him go and stepped back. ¡°What?!¡± She challenged. ¡°Alanna, you¡­ we literally spend time as the same person every few nights. You know that¡¯s not true.¡± James told her softly. ¡°Like, jokes aside, you do know that, right?¡± Alanna flushed, and looked away. ¡°I don¡¯t like thinking about it.¡± She said. ¡°What? Why?¡± James asked. ¡°Is it because it¡¯s Sarah? I know¡­ actually, I don¡¯t know a lot about how you feel about a lot of stuff, despite us having shared brains. Is something wrong?¡± He pulled a hand out of his pocket and laid it on Alanna¡¯s arm, then briefly considered using her as a heating pad when he realized how warm her skin was in the freezing air. His girlfriend just shrugged. ¡°I dunno.¡± She said. ¡°It was easy, with you and Anesh, you know? Because¡­ man, this is gonna make me sound like an asshole.¡± ¡°Because we¡¯re both awkward messes, and you felt like you could be in control?¡± James asked with a smile. ¡°Nah, doesn¡¯t bother us.¡± ¡°Right?¡± Alanna demanded. ¡°You¡¯re so chill! Even when I got back from having amnesia in Florida, a fate worse than death, it was so weird. And I love it, and you, and it makes it easy to be with you both. But Sarah is, like¡­ this chaotic ball of energy who seems constantly on top of everything? And it¡¯s a little intimidating?¡± Alanna shrugged sheepishly. ¡°Like, how do you tell someone that you feel like you aren¡¯t enthusiastic enough for them?¡± James tried to stop his mouth from hanging open. ¡°Dude, you work for a magical emergency response unit, you sometimes do multiple dungeon delves a week, you¡¯re constantly working out or helping around the Order, and you helped build those apartments in our basement. I don¡¯t think you even know how to sit still. And you think Sarah is intimidating?¡± James asked her incredulously. ¡°She¡¯s so cheerful!¡± Alanna burst out. ¡°I¡¯m not a happy person, man! What if she finds out I¡¯m secretly an asshole about everything?!¡± ¡°First of all, that¡¯s not true, stop being a dick to yourself.¡± James flicked at Alanna¡¯s nose, and missed, because the person who could dodge bullets didn¡¯t have a very hard time avoiding a low speed finger. ¡°But also, I dunno, maybe you should talk to her about this.¡± He sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve already talked about our own relationship, so you know it¡¯s cool. Also¡­¡± He was about to say that maybe Sarah wasn¡¯t as put-together as Alanna seemed to think she was, and that maybe his friend could really use some emotional support from the people she cared about. But then he paused, and figured he¡¯d ask Sarah before sharing that little bit of information. ¡°Also just go for it, you know? Anesh and I love you partly because you come across as an emotional bulldozer sometimes. Just do that, but again.¡± Alanna grumbled wordlessly for a minute. ¡°Bah.¡± She eventually said. ¡°I wanna go back to talking about prisons. Or, I dunno, your crush. Can we do that? Can I eject from this line of interrogation?¡± James stifled a laugh. ¡°Sure thing.¡± He said as the cafe they were headed for came into view, the two of them crossing the asphalt desert that was a parking lot to cut across to its front door. ¡°Though honestly, I was gonna ask you advice under the pretense that you knew how to handle someone being infatuated with you, and now I¡¯m not so sure.¡± He joked. ¡°Also, do we wanna get drinks before¡­ we¡­ keep¡­¡± He trailed off as they approached the outside of the cafe. It was freezing outside, so naturally, most of the wrought iron tables and chairs that sat on the concrete patio around the building were unoccupied. Most, but not all. One of the tables, the one that James actually quite liked to share with his partners, that was right between the sidewalk and the front door, was occupied. A single figure leaned back in the metal chair that must be absolutely freezing, illuminated by the lights coming through the cafe¡¯s big glass windows behind them. They had a half eaten pastry sitting on the table in front of them, next to a brazenly displayed handgun, but weren¡¯t really focused on anything except watching the approach to the cafe. The black turtleneck covered most of their arms and neck, but James could see multiple bits of tattoos on their skin poking up from around the edges of the fabric. ¡°James.¡± Alanna said sharply, her body tensing up as she realized who was waiting for them at the same time he was. ¡°Paladin.¡± The person sitting between them and their destination greeted him. ¡°¡­Harlan.¡± James said flatly, feeling the adrenaline in his system start to spike. Feeling a half dozen different rushes of energy as he let go of the familiar mental restraints he had on many of his purple orbs. Feeling a sudden and terrifying realization that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Something aggressive tugged at James¡¯ chest. Something hostile and a little alien to him. He and Alanna moved in tandem, while behind them a dog started howling, and everything went to hell in a real hurry. Chapter 217 "There is an existential horror to the nature of intimate relationships. That opening ourselves to others - allowing them in - brings with it an annihilation of our singular self. We merge, we reshape, we combine and replicate, and mirror. And, on a level that is terrifying, to be with someone is to sacrifice something of who you are. But it''s also beautiful." -Dan Olson, Annihilation and Decoding Metaphor- _____ It was entirely possible that Harlan was just here to talk. As they were in the process of saying something while James charged them, that was actually highly likely. But, the rapid processing and reflexes he had told him just under the surface of his conscious thoughts, Harlan was both responsible for or involved with several dozen civilian casualties, and also sitting near his home with a gun out in an implicit threat. And James felt like maybe the conversation could start when he¡¯d gotten a few hits in. Also he wasn¡¯t going to take the risk that Harlan was going to pick up that gun and start shooting. There was something nudging him forward. An instinct he didn¡¯t recognize, but trusted entirely. Something telling him to kick this person in the face before things got worse. To his side, Alanna didn¡¯t react quite as quick, but she was still right there with him, charging forward to the person who¡¯d decided to show up uninvited to ruin their night out. She wasn¡¯t technically worried about getting shot, but still felt a spike of fear as Harlan¡¯s hands blurred and the gun was snatched off the table, along with the plate the pastry was on. The remains of the baked good scattering to the ground as Harlan flung the saucer at James¡¯ head, and kicked themselves backward. ¡°I¡¯m here to-!¡± Harlan started to call out over the noise of their heavy iron chair hitting the concrete after making a ninety degree rotation, Harlan themselves simply rolling to their feet. Their words were cut off as James closed in, the shattering of the porcelain plate behind him adding to the sudden burst of noise as James threw a punch at Harlan¡¯s head. They easily slapped his strike away, and James felt a sting on his freezing skin at the contact. And also the mild sting as he flexed a muscle that he didn¡¯t have and discharged an electric shock through his skin at the contact point. But he didn¡¯t relent, instead keeping his guard close, closing any openings, and pressuring Harlan to take a couple steps back so they¡¯d be clear of the obstacle of the table and open to being tackled by Alanna. Harlan didn¡¯t do that. Instead, they met James¡¯ attack, the two of them sliding into similar boxer¡¯s stances as both of them rapidly ramped up how quickly they were moving, a dozen strikes and blocks over the space of a couple seconds. When Alanna reached them, and tried to tackle Harlan into a pin, their opponent leaned into her attack and hauled down on Alanna¡¯s arm, pulling themselves up and using the motion to kick James in the chest. As James staggered back, he got a good view of Harlan trying to drive a series of rapid punches under Alanna¡¯s ribs, and getting no reaction from the person who turned the first few dozen high energy impacts she experienced every day into nutrition. This didn¡¯t deter their opponent, though, who turned their motion and grip on Alanna¡¯s arm into a yank and a throw, sending Alanna stumbling past to catch herself on one of the wooden columns outside the cafe. The third person with them, Auberdeen, wasn¡¯t a fighter at all. But she¡¯d taken evaluation of the situation, and had decided to at least try to help. Harlan cut her off, one arm coiling out like a dancer, a flash of swirling color and ink bleeding off their skin and into the night air, before snapping into full form in front of the loyal dog. Auberdeen skidded to a stop as she came face to face with a living tiger, the beast outmassing her twice over and seemingly unconcerned with having suddenly come to life in a suburb of the Pacific Northwest. Auberdeen froze, a look of canine panic on her face as she tried to backpedal, the tiger circling around her without attacking. ¡°Can we just-?!¡± Harlan got about halfway through that sentence before Alanna threw a chair at them. One of the heavy, fifty pound wrought iron chairs. Harlan ducked it without looking, the cacophony of metal bouncing across concrete filling the air again as James and Alanna closed on them, neither of them having noticed the tiger yet. James did notice the sword, though. It unfolded out from around Harlan¡¯s neck as he got a good elbow to their face during a quick exchange of blows. Harlan kicking away at the last second and spinning as they grabbed the object out of the air, the blade going from looking like it was made of paper and liquid to a solid thing as soon as their hand closed on the hilt. Harlan used the flat to stop one of Alanna¡¯s fists, and then tripped his partner with it, sending her sprawling, before turning and lunging at James. James had already tapped into the cafe¡¯s wifi, and opened an email attachment through his skulljack, as Harlan started their move. The handle of a familiar rapier suddenly appeared in his hand, frozen fingers closing on it as he pulled himself into a fencer¡¯s stance, deflecting the strike Harlan had aimed at him. It wasn¡¯t lost on him that Harlan had pulled that attack; they were using the flat of the blade, and from the looks of things, that sword was sharp. Still, he twisted, and deflected the attack, moving into another parry with a nervous skill born of long practice that hadn¡¯t been tested in a real fight yet. And then, as Harlan stood still for long enough to appraise him, James triggered his ability to manipulate asphalt, with what was left of his velocity to add Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel to the mix. He pulled a flowing line of asphalt out from under the front bumper of the car parked by the curb, whipped it across the ground, wrapped it neatly around Harlan¡¯s boots, and spiked it into the ground. Harlan hesitated, and James breathed out a sigh as Alanna stumbled to her feet to his side. ¡°Huh.¡± Harlan said, looking down and trying to move their feet. ¡°Not bad.¡± They flicked their wrist, their sword coiling back into their skin, until only the edge of a tattoo remained. ¡°Still just here to talk though.¡± Their voice was still calm and steady, like the fight hadn¡¯t taken anything out of them, even if they did hold their hands up in the air in surrender. ¡°¡­Mine doesn¡¯t do that.¡± James said, flipping the rapier in his hand around and wondering how the hell he was going to walk home with this. ¡°Also next time don¡¯t show up to talk with a gun out? That tends to fuck with the balance of power.¡± He admonished the other fighter. ¡°You fucking asshole.¡± Alanna gasped out in addition, one hand on her chest as she tried to get back the breath that was knocked out of her. ¡°You started it.¡± Harlan shrugged. James snorted. ¡°That¡­¡± He paused as he glanced behind himself to where Auberdeen was frozen in place while an actual tiger slowly sniffed at the side of her head. ¡°Uh¡­ stop that?¡± He told Harlan, pointing at the ongoing incident. ¡°Oh, she¡¯s harmless.¡± Harlan said matter of factly. ¡°Good for a distraction. Won¡¯t hurt anyone. Hell knows I¡¯ve tried to change that, but she doesn¡¯t listen to me.¡± They didn¡¯t break eye contact with James. ¡°Which is going around, tonight.¡± ¡°No, fuck off.¡± Alanna cut in. ¡°You don¡¯t get to show up all ominous and threatening then act like it¡¯s our fault for not wanting to talk at gunpoint. Fuck you.¡± She folded her arms, before glancing at James. ¡°I¡¯m calling Response. We were literally just talking about not having prisoner capability, but we¡¯ll figure it out.¡± She said. And James hesitated. Alanna paused too, seeing the look on her boyfriend¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, hell no.¡± She said, looking back at Harlan, who was giving them a placid evaluation. ¡°James. No.¡± A lot of James agreed with his partner right now. He was, honestly, pretty pissed at Harlan for at least two reasons. But being angry didn¡¯t solve problems. Not on its own. Anger was a great motivator, but it didn¡¯t always make the right decisions. James kept telling people how he wanted the world to work. The least he could do was listen to himself. And it didn¡¯t help that, the instant the fight ended, whatever had made him feel like violence was the cleanest answer to this problem had ended too. He wasn¡¯t sure if that was Harlan fucking with them somehow, or just him not being in perfect control of his emotions, but it wasn¡¯t great either way. He sighed and called up one of his manipulate asphalt charges, leaving holes in Harlan¡¯s boots, but letting them move again. The rapid use of the ability gave him a mild headache, but it wasn¡¯t anything he wasn¡¯t used to. ¡°We¡¯ll talk inside.¡± James commanded, walking past them. ¡°It¡¯s fucking freezing out here and I¡¯m not magic like literally everyone else here apparently.¡± Harlan didn¡¯t exactly grin, but Alanna still gave them an unhappy glare from behind as she caught an aura of smug satisfaction when they walked past, whistling to call their tiger with them. ¡°You okay?¡± She asked Auberdeen as the now quite skittish dog pressed up against her leg. Auberdeen looked up at Alanna with wide eyes, shuffling herself in place before looking after the literal tiger that had been set on her. ¡°Yeah, me neither.¡± Alanna said. ¡°You can head home if you¡¯re¡­¡± She got an instant low woof in response. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go. You want a dog cake?¡± The cafe had cake for dogs, and Alanna knew Auberdeen loved them. It wasn¡¯t exactly a fair trade for the tiger thing, but it was something. Inside, James had pointed Harlan to an empty table in the back, and was ignoring the dozen people recording him on their phones, as he talked to the guy behind the counter. ¡°-honestly don¡¯t have anywhere to put this.¡± He was saying, indicating the sword he was idly holding. ¡°Can you just hang onto it?¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t going to get me stabbed, is it?¡± Alanna heard the barista ask, as she calmly sat herself across from Harlan and leveled a glare at the other person. ¡°You¡¯re good.¡± James said. ¡°Also, can I get¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°The usual?¡± The barista asked. ¡°Are we really here so often that-¡° ¡°Yup.¡± James gave a dejected huff, but he wasn¡¯t really feeling that offended. His nerves were still on edge from the fight, and from Harlan¡¯s presence at all. ¡°Alright, fine. Also a dog cake.¡± He lurked around the counter, watching Alanna and Harlan just stare each other down, while the rest of the cafe seemed to have paused to try to figure out if the actual literal tiger was going to be a problem. ¡°Hey.¡± He nodded once to someone who was still filming on their phone, their mouth slightly open as they panned the camera over him, and back to the tiger. ¡°Man, you¡¯d think after all the weird we¡¯ve brought here, the tiger wouldn¡¯t be that bad.¡± He grumbled. The barista raised his eyebrows at James as he capped their drinks and slid them to the edge of the counter. ¡°The tiger is real, though.¡± He informed him. ¡°With everyone else you bring in here, it¡¯s so out there, we just gotta roll with it. But a tiger? That¡¯s normal enough that it¡¯s confusing. Giant smart cyborg snakes belong nowhere, so they can be anywhere and it¡¯s kinda weird. Tigers belong in the zoo, or¡­ India? So they belong here less.¡± ¡°You¡¯re taking this really well.¡± James mused. ¡°I¡¯m considering buying a house with how much you guys tip.¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± He said, raising his drink cup in a toast as he headed back to the table, stepping over Auberdeen and settling in next to Alanna as he balanced the items in his hands, setting cups on the table and sliding the plate of dog cake onto the floor. ¡°Alright.¡± James started, leaning forward on one elbow. ¡°Why are you here?¡± He asked. He was willing to give talking a shot. But he wasn¡¯t going to apologize for reacting badly. Not yet, anyway. And it seemed like Harlan wasn¡¯t either. Or perhaps they didn¡¯t care. James got a weird vibe from them that didn¡¯t quite add up in his head. He paused, and looked at Harlan again. Short, close cut hair, black turtleneck, very ¡®professional killer¡¯ kind of vibe. There was something weird about how he thought about them though, and he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on it. It wasn¡¯t just that Harlan felt kind of emotionally dead, either; they switched between fighting and talking like the two things were exactly the same level of risk, and their expression was one of almost casual disinterest, even though James knew from their first interaction that they were a little more empathetic than that. ¡°I¡¯m here because yesterday, you killed one of my soldiers.¡± Harlan said with that same disinterested tone. ¡°And I have some questions.¡± ¡°In my defense, she shot me.¡± James said, trying to override the surge of violent disgust and panic he felt at the words with banter. Harlan¡¯s eyes flickered to his, and they suddenly leaned back, softening. ¡°No.¡± Their voice took on a more human quality. ¡°You don¡¯t understand, all I know is that you killed someone in my command structure. I don¡¯t know why or who, though I can guess, and importantly, I don¡¯t know where.¡± ¡°¡­And?¡± James asked. As he asked, next to him, Alanna tapped into their shared skulljack link and sent him a silent message. ¡°They¡¯ve got something weird going on with their emotions, but they¡¯re relieved, in general, at how things have gone.¡± She messaged him. James elaborated on his question before Harlan answered. ¡°Sorry, let¡¯s be clear. You know I killed someone in your group, now you¡¯re here, armed, being cryptic. And we¡¯re not exactly feeling super open to sharing information now either. So, let¡¯s try this. Tell me what is going on, and I¡¯ll reciprocate.¡± Harlan looked at him for just a second before shrugging. ¡°Sure. My notes say you¡¯re trustworthy.¡± They said. ¡°During a retrieval operation two months ago, one of my teams went missing. Something went wrong with our team composition, and they were all redlining. None of them should have been out at all, but they were. They didn¡¯t make contact, and vanished along with a few pieces of important gear. Mostly my good helicopter. I know they¡¯re still around, because I get kill notifications from them, but I don¡¯t know where, and because there¡¯s evidence that you¡¯re reasonable, I was going to offer to buy the intel off you.¡± Harlan paused. ¡°After testing you.¡± ¡°You know, people keep testing my partners with violence?¡± Alanna spoke up, her voice unamused. ¡°It¡¯s not a good look.¡± The person across from them gave a tiny shrug. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you why everyone else is doing it. I just needed to see if you¡¯re the kind of people who¡¯d push for a kill.¡± James slammed his eyes shut and made an irritated ¡®ugh¡¯ noise in his throat. ¡°I hate the world you¡¯re part of.¡± He said softly. ¡°Yeah, I get that.¡± Harlan answered. ¡°Congratulations, though.¡± ¡°On¡­ us not trying to kill you?¡± ¡°On your marriage. Is that not what she said?¡± Harlan flicked a thumb toward Alanna. ¡°We¡¯re not¡­ this isn¡¯t relevant.¡° James focused on the important part. ¡°You have memory problems. You don¡¯t remember meeting me? Is that¡­ wait! You sound different!¡± He suddenly realized what had changed. ¡°No, sorry, I¡¯m still getting off topic. I¡¯m going to take it as read that you I guess get kill and death announcements from your squads, which is weird, but okay. Why did they defect? And why there?¡± Harlan gave a twitch of their eye that James missed, but Alanna didn¡¯t, and filled him in on rapidly. ¡°You have less intel than the notes suggested.¡± They said. ¡°Still, no big secret to fill you in. The Wolfpack uses our own memories as a resource. A lot of us leave notes to ourselves, and we¡¯re expected to retire when we start to redline. But they didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± James said. And then, as he made the connections, ¡°Oooh. You hit a point where you don¡¯t have the context to ideologically align, or something.¡± Alanna glanced at him, and James explained. ¡°They forget the parts that are important to who they are, so they become someone else.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s fucking terrifying. I know identity is fungible and individuality is an illusion, but it kinda sucks when it¡¯s that and not just having sex while we¡¯re all one person.¡± Alanna leaned back, reevaluating Harlan. ¡°That¡¯s why you feel so weird. You actually don¡¯t know what you feel, do you? Oh fuck me, you¡¯re not here because a flowchart told you to, are you?¡± Harlan flinched, glancing away for just an instant, but long enough that James felt an immediate pang of sympathy for them. He leaned forward, shifting his cooling drink to the side, as he murmured quietly, ¡°Do you know what you¡¯re doing?¡± And after a moment that stretched on, the noise of other cautious conversations and the hiss of the cafe¡¯s espresso machine intruding on their small pause, Harlan met his eyes. ¡°Of course.¡± They said with a solid confidence to their voice that Alanna instantly flagged as hollow, leaning back in their chair and adjusting the neck of their turtleneck. ¡°I am formally requesting an exchange of intel.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t my job.¡± James said simply. And it wasn¡¯t. Not really. There was probably no reason to say no, but that sentence could be appended with ¡®as far as he knew¡¯ and still be accurate. The problem was, he wouldn¡¯t know. Nate would know. JP would know. James though? He was worried he¡¯d say yes, say something stupid, and reveal actual sensitive intel that he actually probably shouldn¡¯t. The Order of Endless Rooms wasn¡¯t a conspiracy, but that didn¡¯t mean that sharing their tactical secrets with someone who did seem to be in a stealth war with the CIA was a great plan. The look Harlan gave them wasn¡¯t put off though. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You were the one I knew how to find.¡± ¡°Yeah, how is that exactly?¡± James demanded. ¡°I¡¯d like to know that, before I learn that other people know where I get coffee, and maybe live.¡± ¡°Oh. That.¡± Harlan seemed dismissive. ¡°Oh that, they say, like we¡¯re somehow comfortable with people intruding on our personal lives.¡± Alanna practically growled. Harlan didn¡¯t react to the bite in Alanna¡¯s words. ¡°We got lucky.¡± They said simply, with a tiny shrug. ¡°Spotted one of your people while on an op in the area. Lost track of them, but knew where to start looking, and really, there¡¯s no foolproof way to stop someone from just spotting you by chance. I knew about this place for a few months, but didn¡¯t need to make contact.¡± James took a sip of his mocha, trying to not let it show on his face that he was pretty sure Harlan was leaving something out of that explanation. But¡­ if they¡¯d known for months, and done nothing, that was something at least. Something good or bad, he couldn¡¯t say, but something. ¡°So, you want to know where your people are.¡± He said. ¡°And in exchange¡­ what? Aside from you collecting them.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll collect them if there¡¯s a problem.¡± Harlan stated. ¡°And in exchange¡­ well. I can give you a weak context or two. Or a few seed rounds, if you¡¯re going that way. But really, I was just going to owe you one.¡± ¡°Contexts?¡± James shot the message silently to Alanna. ¡°I think they mean dungeons.¡± Alanna sent back. ¡°But that¡¯s kinda huge. Except, do we even care? We¡¯ve got six of them already, and we don¡¯t have the people to explore them already.¡± James suppressed a nod as he sent back. ¡°I think they mean the bullets when they say ¡®seed rounds¡¯, which¡­ note that. Pass it on to Reed.¡± ¡°Done.¡± ¡°I was gonna ask. Are you being quiet because you¡¯ve got comms open?¡± ¡°Yeah. Nate says wait on it.¡± Alanna told him through their shared thoughts. ¡°Set up a secondary meeting. They¡¯ll send a rogue to do a real negotiation and get what extra they can out of them.¡± ¡°Do I tell Harlan what¡¯s going on in Alaska? The ecoterrorists, the New York, any of that?¡± James inquired. ¡°I feel like¡­ hang on.¡± He snapped back to the physical world, and met Harlan¡¯s eyes. They were staring at him curiously. ¡°You need a minute?¡± They asked. ¡°No, just thinking.¡± James said honestly. ¡°Alright. I think we can make a trade. Someone who actually has that job will talk to you, though. You got a phone number we can call you at?¡± Harlan just smirked. ¡°I¡¯ll be back here in a week. Meet me. I don¡¯t use agents. Or phones.¡± ¡°Ooooooof course not.¡± Alanna scoffed. ¡°Yeah,¡± James added with false enthusiasm, ¡°how will we form a working relationship if we can¡¯t call you at random times?¡± Harlan stood, and their tiger stood with them, the massive form of fur and muscle reminding the cafe that there was a predator among them as it rose alongside its master. ¡°Oh,¡± they said, ¡°you won¡¯t. Don¡¯t misunderstand me, I¡¯m willing to work with you, paladin.¡± They said James¡¯ semi-joking title without a hint of irony. ¡°But I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be willing to work with us.¡± They gave a polite nod to Alanna, who didn¡¯t return it, and a glance down at Auberdeen, who had her plate of mostly eaten dog cake held close in her paws as she watched the tiger move. Then Harlan, moving like they didn¡¯t have holes in their boots from where James stapled them to the sidewalk twenty minutes ago, walked out the back door of the cafe. They waved a hand behind them as they did so, and the tiger folded up in a snarl of colored liquid, folding around the skin of their wrist and flowing like ink until, presumably, a tattoo was remade on Harlan¡¯s covered arm. Then they placed a hand on the railing that separated the cafe¡¯s back patio from the pond below, hauled themselves over, and threw their form into the night. Watching carefully, James saw a ripple in the air as they fell, and then they were gone. ¡°So.¡± He said to Alanna, leaning over to bump elbows with his partner. ¡°I¡¯ve got something important to ask.¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± She said, wincing as James nudged part of her that had been scraped up when Harlan threw her into the concrete ground. He nodded imperiously. ¡°Yeah. I think Arrush has a crush on me, and I need to talk about what to do about that.¡± Alanna slowly stood up, circled around the table, sat in the chair Harlan had just been in, ignored the pair of Order members who ran past on the cafe¡¯s back patio, folded her hands, and fixed James with a steady gaze. ¡°I don¡¯t think,¡± Alanna said slowly, ¡°that should really be your highest priority right now.¡± ¡°I know, right?!¡± James spread his hands in an agreeing gesture. ¡°I don¡¯t really think a new relationship should be Arrush¡¯s highest priority either. He needs therapy first. But it¡¯s been bothering me.¡± ¡°No, James.¡± Alanna flicked her eyes upward as her patience thinned. ¡°What just happened? What was that?¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. James sighed. ¡°Alright, fine. Just trying to be fun.¡± He flashed a grin at her then let his voice grow serious. ¡°So, that was several things. One: Harlan is like us. In a lot of ways. Multiple dungeons, obviously. But also¡­ they clearly act on a lot of different things. I think they might be closer to the Order than we expected.¡± He paused, then looped himself in on the call Alanna had going with Nate so he could include their intelligence chef in the conversation. ¡°You get that?¡± James asked. ¡°Yeah, but this is cleaner. Go on.¡± Nate¡¯s voice came through the line to both of them. ¡°I¡¯m gonna talk like this.¡± James sent without speaking. ¡°Because I just realized, that if I were Harlan, I wouldn¡¯t leave it to chance that I¡¯d ¡®bump into us¡¯ again.¡± ¡°You think we¡¯re bugged?¡± Alanna asked back in the same way, talking through the connection. ¡°You probably aren¡¯t.¡± Nate said, the poor guy having to use his real voice. ¡°But it¡¯s a good practice.¡± James nodded, resolving to check his pockets before he went anywhere near his apartment or the Lair again. ¡°Right. Anyway. I think Harlan¡¯s their version of me.¡± ¡°Aw hell.¡± Nate drawled out. ¡°You think they sent ¡®em in to provoke a response? Just cause some chaos and hope they come out on top?¡± James blinked, and mouthed a confused questioning word to Alanna as he replied. ¡°Wait, is that what you think I do? Just cause problems on purpose?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Okay ow.¡± James said, ignoring Alanna¡¯s cracked grin across the table from him that she smothered with her coffee cup. ¡°But also sure. But also, Nate, you think this is a good idea?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a lead.¡± Nate¡¯s shrug was almost audible over the phone call. ¡°We can at least fill in the picture.¡± James gave a nod, a tight frown on his lips. ¡°And I doubt this is the last time we¡¯re going to encounter Harlan.¡± He said glumly. ¡°They¡¯re willing to work with us.¡± Alanna reminded James. ¡°But not the other way around?¡± ¡°I¡¯m just gonna go out on a limb and assume that Harlan is being self-deprecating about how much collateral damage they cause. They are the kind of people who apparently take jobs with ecoterrorists.¡± James flicked his eyes over to where Nate would be sitting if he were actually present, before remembering how phone calls worked. The skulljacks removed some barriers, but they also blurred lines and often left James nodding at people who couldn¡¯t see more often than he did when he used a cell phone. ¡°Nate, you got any insight on that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s likely worse than you think. They¡¯re probably just killers. But they¡¯re killers that must have a huge amount of trust, because if they keep wiping their own memories, and haven¡¯t self-destructed yet¡­¡± Nate paused, and James heard him speak to someone outside the call, muffled words filling his head while he and Alanna took synchronized sips of lukewarm drinks. ¡°They¡¯re running ops like this off a spreadsheet.¡± Nate reminded them. ¡°Harlan¡¯s redlining themself. They probably all are. Hell, they might have been for a long time. If you want my guess? They already self-destructed a long time ago, and everything they¡¯re doing is ripples and shadows.¡± ¡°And car bombs.¡± James reminded them. ¡°Hey, are we gonna ignore that Harlan gets a kill counter on their subordinates?¡± Alanna asked. Nate snorted. ¡°We¡¯ve got a record of the whole conversation. We¡¯re going over it now for anything that¡¯s a potential power. Also add that they appear to be able to teleport.¡± James watched the two Order knights come in through the back patio, out of breath and looking unhappy. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m getting that impression.¡± He said. ¡°Alright. You need us for anything? We were on a date.¡± He glanced at his partner. ¡°Unless Alanna needs medical attention now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Alanna dismissed him as Nate said something quick and hung up on them. ¡°Scraped the hell out of my arm though.¡± James winced as his partner turned to show off her bicep, the skin covered in an angry red nest of scratches. ¡°Yikes!¡± He hissed out. ¡°You wanna head back and get something for that?¡± Alanna just snorted at him, a smug smile creeping in. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m fine. I¡¯ve got a few things making me bulletproof, after all. This is nothing.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen your character sheet, you don¡¯t heal any faster than a normal person.¡± James folded his arms at her. ¡°But seriously, you okay?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Alanna poked her arm and winced. ¡°Sorta. Harlan fucking went right through us, huh?¡± ¡°Kinda, yeah.¡± ¡°Do you¡­ do you think we would have actually survived, if that were a real fight?¡± ¡°Oh, probably.¡± James tossed a hand up next to his head, spreading his fingers idly. ¡°We¡¯re tough. But also, yeah, they were¡­ way better at this than we were. More focused. Or¡­ no, like they do this all the time.¡± ¡°We get in combat all the time.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Not with other humans we don¡¯t. Especially not with other delvers.¡± There was a long pause where the only sound was the hiss of the espresso machine behind the counter and the chatter of conversation that was rising back up around them. And then Alanna took a breath and looked away. ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to do this more, aren¡¯t we? Get used to fighting people?¡± ¡°Maybe we can get pointers from Harlan when we absorb their group.¡± James quipped. Alanna snapped her head back around to give him an open mouthed stare. ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Look, all I¡¯ve got to measure this by is precedent.¡± James told her. ¡°And so far¡­¡± ¡°Dammit. Well fuck it, whatever. Maybe I can get a tiger tattoo.¡± Alanna leaned back in her chair. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, now that I have the money for it?¡± James raised his eyebrows, secretly grateful for the shift back to casual conversation. He could only take so much excitement before he got really tired. ¡°I kinda knew that, from, you know, being you sometimes. But what¡¯re you thinking?¡± ¡°I dunno! Do we have, like, a logo?¡± She asked, drumming her fingers on the table. ¡°Like the Order. Do we have a flag? We should have a logo or a flag. Part of me was thinking of getting a camraconda, like on my bicep,¡± she traced a line with her finger over where she¡¯d been slammed into the concrete outside, ¡°but that¡¯s sorta weird, since they¡¯re people. But they¡¯re also adorable.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± James nodded. ¡°You know it doesn¡¯t have to be a dungeon tattoo, right?¡± ¡°Well yeah, but the dungeons are cool.¡± Alanna countered without even considering her words. ¡°What would you suggest then?¡± ¡°A¡­ camraconda.¡± James faltered and then latched onto the first thing his brain gave him. ¡°Wait fuck no.¡± ¡°See?!¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s hard to top that.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Speaking of, camraconda.¡± James pointed a finger off his raised cup toward the front door as a couple people approached, one of them the serpentine form of a camraconda. Their features resolved as the human pulled the door open and let Frequency-Of-Sunlight into the cafe, Deb following after her partner. James gave a friendly wave, and got a smile back from Deb, but they otherwise didn¡¯t interrupt each other¡¯s date nights. ¡°Hey, actually, uh¡­ oh wow, just had a thought. What would have happened if Harlan had run into them and not us?¡± He asked Alanna. She paused and leaned back, placing her fingertips on the edge of the table as she did so. ¡°Huh. Guess it depends on if Harlan was telling the truth about just wanting to talk. And I guess also if they could slip Sunny¡¯s basilisk impression.¡± ¡°You know what I miss?¡± James suddenly asked quietly. ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare say life before magic.¡± Alanna glared at him. He made a derisive grunting noise. ¡°Heck no.¡± James said with a shake of his head. ¡°But I do miss when it was¡­ small, I guess. When it was a few of us, and a few staplers between us and making rent. It was simpler, and easier, and I felt like I was getting a handle on it. And now? Now¡­¡± ¡°Now we¡¯ve got people counting on us.¡± Alanna said softly, reaching out a hand that her boyfriend met with his own. ¡°Now we can be counted on. I know I¡¯m wrong about a lot of shit, man, but let me be right about this one. You¡¯re doing a good job. You make the world better. You can be confused, fuck knows I am, but don¡¯t doubt yourself, okay?¡± ¡°Heh. Yeah, okay.¡± James smiled back at her, trying and failing to keep the blush off his cheeks. ¡°So, what now?¡± ¡°Now we get a fruit tart.¡± Alanna declared. ¡°Because I just watched Deb get a fruit tart, and it looks delicious. Then we blip over to the Lair and let Nate do his thing checking us for spyware. Then¡­ I dunno, wanna go on a delve?¡± ¡°What, while Anesh is asleep?¡± James placed a hand on his chest. ¡°Seems rude to exclude him.¡± ¡°First of all, Anesh doesn¡¯t get into delving like we do, and you know it. He¡¯s adorable, but he hates fighting.¡± ¡°I hate fighting!¡± James protested. Alanna scoffed at him. ¡°You love fighting, when it¡¯s against mindless monsters.¡± She informed him. ¡°And we¡¯re both jazzed up on adrenaline, so it¡¯s either go challenge a dungeon, or have sex, and I don¡¯t think we wanna wake Anesh up. He needs to sleep better.¡± ¡°Okay, first off¡­¡± James held up a finger like he was going to start counting, but failed to think of any good points. ¡°No, I had a¡­ oh! There¡¯s no dungeons even open right now. Except Clutter Ascent? Who is our friend, not a place we go to get in fights.¡± ¡°Dang, you¡¯re right.¡± Alanna snapped her fingers. ¡°Welp. Only one option then.¡± She gave James an impish grin. He gave an embarrassed smile back. ¡°Alright, except no, because I am¡­ not feeling great after that.¡± James admitted. ¡°I dunno. Something feels wrong. I feel wrong. I¡¯d rather just hang out for a bit?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Alanna said instantly, her smile not going away, but shifting to something a little more reassuring as she sent the words to James instantly. Alongside the simpler communication protocol, she also reached out over the network connection between their minds, and brushed against James with how she was feeling. It was hard to pick up the trick; skulljacks really wanted you to just blend your minds into a single blob. But Alanna had been doing this with Anesh and James for months now, and they had a lot of practice with each other. Both using the tools, and knowing how they felt. Right now, she knew without using her empathy power that James would be feeling anxiety about saying ¡®no¡¯, because that¡¯s who James was. So she touched on his mind with the sensation of being in love with him, and being completely fine drinking coffee and wondering how long until someone asked them about the tiger. Across the table, James blinked, his smile turning soft as he ducked his head and felt his eyes water slightly. ¡°Thanks.¡± He mumbled out loud. ¡°No problem.¡± Alanna said, with total honesty. ¡°Anyway! What were we talking about? You getting a tattoo?¡± James pressed his fingertips together. ¡°You getting a tattoo. I don¡¯t want a¡­ do I want a tattoo? I mean, now we know magic tattoos are an option¡­¡± ¡°You could get a camraconda?¡± Alanna suggested. ¡°I could absolutely¡­ hang on, Nate¡¯s calling me back.¡± James cut himself off and directed his thoughts to hit the mental button that answered his phone, Bluetooth connection still connected to his skulljack. ¡°Nate. What¡¯s up?¡± Nate¡¯s voice from the other end of the line sounded exceedingly annoyed. ¡°What did Harlan look like?¡± He demanded abruptly. James and Alanna shared a raised eyebrow look before James tilted his head to answer. ¡°Uh¡­ a little short. Shorter than me. Way shorter than Alanna. Bald, I think? Or at least, very short hair. Why?¡± ¡°Do they have a gender? Ethnicity maybe? Eye color? Anything like that?¡± Nate¡¯s tone wasn¡¯t frantic exactly, but it did have the feeling of a man who had just learned something that he hated. ¡°They have a turtleneck?¡± James gave a snarky answer without really meaning to. ¡°And, hey! Why would I look deep into someone¡¯s eyes when they¡¯re trying to beat the shit out of me?¡± Alanna asked. Biting his lip, James turned away. ¡°Ah.¡± He sent back. ¡°I kinda do that with Anesh sometimes, when we¡¯re fencing?¡± Alanna instantly redid her position. ¡°Okay, yeah, but Anesh has cute eyes. That just makes sense. I mean, you know, Harlan.¡± ¡°People, focus.¡± Nate snapped. ¡°What is Harlan?¡± That felt like a loaded question. ¡°This feels like a loaded question.¡± James told Nate. ¡°Obviously there¡¯s something going on, now that you¡¯ve pointed it out, yes. But I¡¯m not sure it changes anything about their character. They didn¡¯t come across like Lloyd or the Old Gun where they were constantly shifting between things and hard to pin down; this is more¡­ I dunno, standard information lockout?¡± ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be standard. Next time you see them, get Planner or someone who can handle it in on it.¡± Nate hung up, leaving them back on their constantly interrupted date without another word. James sighed and leaned back in his chair. ¡°Planner hates this kind of thing.¡± He idly stated. Alanna nodded. ¡°Yeah, well, we¡¯ve got a finite number of infomorphs that are really dangerous.¡± ¡°Planner isn¡¯t dangerous, unless you¡¯re going to be late for something important.¡± James snorted. ¡°Unless you just mean, like, strong because they¡¯re distributed. Which I agree with. Have you noticed that the assignments seem to have¡­ I mean, it¡¯s not a ¡®cap¡¯ exactly, but their growth slows way down unless they split off to more people? But at the same time, that distribution to new minds isn¡¯t an absolute part of a life cycle or anything.¡± ¡°Do they even have a life cycle?¡± Alanna raised her eyebrows as James hit her with the thought. ¡°Like, do you think they have lifespans? Or are they¡­ you know¡­ tethered to us in every way that matters?¡± ¡°I hope it¡¯s that one!¡± James said quickly. He was going to say more, as his brain spun up to have big thoughts about the nature of symbiosis and the goal of preventing death wherever possible. But he was interrupted by a small, high pitched voice near his elbow. ¡°¡®Scuse me!¡± James looked down to see a blonde haired little girl standing by their table, looking at him with the kind of expression kids got when they weren¡¯t afraid of anything. ¡°Can I pet your dog?¡± The little girl asked him. James glanced around, and spotted a man around his age at a table nearby, watching carefully. He gave the apparent father a polite nod, getting one back in return, and then turned back to the kid. ¡°It¡¯s okay with me if it¡¯s okay with Auberdeen.¡± He said. ¡°You should ask her, but I think she¡¯ll say yes.¡± James turned his smile down to where the ball of white fur was slowly edging closer to her source of pets. The girl just stared at him, until it started to get a little awkward, and James glanced over at Alanna. Then his partner slapped herself on the forehead and leaned over to poke a finger into James cheek. ¡°Say it out loud you dingus.¡± She told him. ¡°Oh!¡± James repeated the forehead slap, before repeating his words, and the girl¡¯s smile came back as she repeated her question to Auberdeen and got a nod and a friendly headbutt in response. For all that the dog was approaching or equal to human level intelligence in several areas, Auberdeen was still a dog who loved her pets. Not that she had a shortage of affection from the people she lived with; Rufus especially when he was around the apartment would often nap with the big dog and give her gentle scritches with his multitude of legs. But that didn¡¯t stop Auberdeen from acting like she¡¯d never had her ears scratched in her entire life every time she met someone new. It was after a couple minutes of childish laughter and pets that the girl¡¯s father came over to their table. ¡°Alright Alley, time to get going.¡± He glanced up at James and Alanna. ¡°Thanks. She¡¯s had a hard week.¡± He said to them quietly. ¡°No problem.¡± James said. ¡°Auberdeen loves the attention anyway.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ if you don¡¯t mind my asking¡­¡± The man said, looking around like he was about to say something forbidden. ¡°What was up with the tiger?¡± ¡°What about the tiger?¡± The man dipped his head forward, eyes narrowed and mouth partly open. ¡°What do you mean what do I mean about the tiger?¡± He asked incredulously. ¡°I mean, if the kid wants to pet the tiger, I think Harlan¡¯ll be back in a few days and we can ask them.¡± Alanna jumped in. ¡°James no!¡± She said in a rapid burst of words. ¡°The tiger was more friendly than Harlan was! The tiger didn¡¯t try to hit me with a chair!¡± He protested. Then remembered there was a human asking him a question that was uninitiated into his brand of weird humor and weirder magic. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said to the father, ¡°the tiger¡¯s a magical tattoo or something. I have no idea what¡¯s up with it. We¡¯re just kind of muddling through this nonsense.¡± ¡°Sure. Sure.¡± The guy nodded, not really processing or believing James at all. ¡°Alright, well, thanks for letting Alley pet the dog. We¡¯ve gotta get going kiddo.¡± ¡°Dad, I wanna pet the snake first!¡± She said, pointing over at the far side of the cafe, and getting a very tired look from her father. James came to the man¡¯s rescue. He hadn¡¯t exactly looked to James for help, but this was a great opportunity to solve two problems at once. ¡°The big snake over there?¡± He said, in a conspiratorial whisper to the young girl, who nodded at him excitedly. ¡°Oooh, she¡¯s on a date right now. It¡¯d be rude to interrupt, right?¡± ¡°Right!¡± The young girl nodded vigorously. ¡°Dad! Let¡¯s go find more dogs!¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± The man mouthed at James as he let his daughter tug his hand out the door. ¡°That was pleasant.¡± James sighed as he leaned back again. He and Alanna just sat for a little while, letting their respective thoughts meander while they watched the cafe. It was¡­ normal, in a way. Sure, there was a camraconda here, and there¡¯d been a tiger. But¡­ people walking in now had no idea that the world had been briefly chaotic here. These were just normal people getting coffee, doing homework, playing cards, arguing about superhero movies, whatever. The building was kinda chilly, despite the warm orange tinted lights. The smell of brewing coffee and the constant hiss of the espresso machine backed the scene. And James just felt¡­ pretty good. He wasn¡¯t in danger right now, he didn¡¯t have anything he needed to do on a pressing timeline. The only thing that really needed his attention was the task of relaxing, and making sure that he was doing okay. And, to his surprise, he found that he was. ¡°I think,¡± he told Alanna suddenly, ¡°that I should contact Malcom.¡± The FBI agent. Or deputy director of the Weirdness Department. Whatever. ¡°I¡¯ll run it by Nate when I get back to the Lair and he¡¯s in a better mood from having a gap in his conspiracy board, but I think we should just drop the intel we¡¯ve got on them, and back off. If we can get Harlan to pull their people out, we drastically cut down on how dangerous the Priority Earth people are, right? And¡­ I dunno, I¡¯m tired of this crap. I wanna go back to the magic stuff now, not the getting shot stuff.¡± ¡°Oh yeah! How¡¯s your neck feeling?¡± Alanna asked as she remembered James¡¯ injury. ¡°It hurts!¡± He cheerfully told her. ¡°More, now, since Harlan fucking punched me there. But I¡¯ve had worse. I got shot in the heart before, and walked it off. This¡¯ll be nothing.¡± He gave a single huff of laughter, which he refused to admit was mostly empty bravado. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m right there with you on the dungeon thing.¡± He told Alanna. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to just do a simple delve again.¡± ¡°We could always just teleport into somewhere.¡± She offered. Then relented almost instantly. ¡°Not really. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever gone in, but going out is gross enough.¡± ¡°Yeah, going in also does the nausea thing.¡± James confirmed with a nod. ¡°Except way worse. It¡¯s why we¡¯re still not doing a permanent Officium Mundi base yet. Too hard to resupply or reinforce, and just not worth it since we already have telepad safety nets.¡± He shrugged. ¡°So, Climb expedition tomorrow maybe? Or we could go liberate more people from the Akashic Sewer? I¡¯m feeling better now, I¡¯m ready to punch some stuff!¡± Alanna gave a bellowing laugh that got half the cafe looking over her direction. ¡°Yeah, okay!¡± She said eagerly. ¡°As soon as you do your FBI informant chores, we¡¯ll go to Australia and punch the snow.¡± ¡°God I love our jobs.¡± James grinned. ¡°Oh, do you wanna head back? Or are we hanging out here a while longer?¡± He asked. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not tired.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Also, I had an important question.¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± ¡°So, you and Arrush?¡± She raised her eyebrows at him. ¡°Oh no.¡± Alanna¡¯s grin took on a predatory quality, if predators wrote ship fic. ¡°I just didn¡¯t expect that!¡± She said. ¡°I mean, I kinda knew the big guy liked you. He and Keeka really like you, you know. But I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d feel the same way!¡± James wobbled on hand over the table. ¡°I mean I don¡¯t know if I do?¡± He said. ¡°James, if you didn¡¯t feel something, you¡¯d just tell him no and move on.¡± Alanna said, folding her arms on her chest. ¡°I dunno, I think it¡¯s kinda cute. But I also get why you¡¯re worried, I think?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m¡­¡± James tried to think of how to express what he was feeling. ¡°It¡¯s because he¡¯s so¡­ new, I guess? Young doesn¡¯t feel like the right word. But he is young, technically. How old are they, really, Alanna? A few years at most? That¡¯s¡­ eugh. I mean, I get that the whole ¡®age of consent¡¯ thing doesn¡¯t work properly when you¡¯ve got manufactured people that are spawned in adulthood or whatever, but wow does that sentence have a lot of the whole I¡¯m-not-underage-I¡¯m-an-eight-thousand-year-old-god-that-looks-like-a-little-girl excuse, doesn''t it.¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t allowed to use that many hyphens in a sentence.¡± Alanna rolled her eyes. ¡°Also you aren¡¯t living in an anime.¡± ¡°Are you fucking sure?!¡± James asked with an unexpected laugh slipping out. ¡°Because last time I checked, half my friends are either mech pilots or have personal ghosts that can manifest to fight for them.¡± ¡°Is that¡­ a JoJo¡¯s thing?¡± Alanna looked at him suspiciously before James nodded sheepishly. ¡°I knew it. Also the mech pilot thing doesn¡¯t count, because Dave isn¡¯t a traumatized teenager or whatever.¡± ¡°Not every mecha anime is Evangelion.¡± James pointed out. Then he thought about it. ¡°Or, I guess, half the Gundum series. Or¡­ Eureka Seven? How many mecha anime do I know? And why do all of them use traumatized child soldiers? Let¡¯s play this game.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re sidetracking us. Do you like Arrush?¡± Alanna demanded. ¡°I mean¡­ yes?¡± James shrugged. ¡°But like¡­ my original point isn¡¯t wrong! The one from earlier, when I was trying to slip it in at a weird time. I dunno how to handle him being new, but I do know that if he¡¯s gonna be getting into any new relationship, he should be in a mentally healthy place first, you know? I don¡¯t wanna be someone he just latched onto because I was a little nice and he¡¯s been through a lot of trauma.¡± James trailed off, looking out the window with a sigh. Alanna stared at him with an incredulous look before realizing he wasn¡¯t going to be looking back her way anytime soon. ¡°You really need to stop being so down on yourself.¡± She told her partner. ¡°You think the only reason someone would like you is if you took advantage of them or something?¡± ¡°I¡­ well when you say it like that, it¡¯s stupid!¡± James admitted, throwing his hands up. ¡°Yeah, it is!¡± ¡°So I should stop being stupid!¡± ¡°Yeah, you should!¡± ¡°Alright!¡± ¡°Fine!¡± ¡°Woof!¡± Auberdeen interjected. ¡°Right yes, that too, thank you.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Auberdeen also thinks you should stop being so self-depreciating.¡± James let out a burst of laughter, shaking his head with a smile as he felt the last of any sort of tension drain out of his chest. ¡°Ahhhh, I should talk to Arrush, shouldn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°Oh! And tell me if you guys get up to anything sexy! For¡­ personal reasons!¡± ¡°This, right here? This is why it¡¯s weird that you¡¯re so sheepish about people having crushes on you.¡± James pointed out. ¡°You are like some kind of sexually confident hurricane in every other situation. Actually! Tell you what! I¡¯ll talk to Arrush, if you talk to Sarah!¡± ¡°Oh fuck.¡± Alanna winced as James caught her off guard. ¡°I¡­ could do that.¡± She seemed apprehensive. ¡°But only if you won¡¯t get mad when I screw everything up.¡± James reached over and grabbed one of her hands in his own, squeezing it tightly. ¡°Hey,¡± he said, ¡°you know that won¡¯t happen. And if it does, we¡¯ll fix it. That¡¯s what we do. We fix things.¡± He ignored Alanna¡¯s uttered ¡®bah¡¯ and met her eyes with an easy smile. ¡°You know Anesh and I love you, and we¡¯re not going anywhere. There¡¯s nothing to worry about, it¡¯s okay to take a little risk, and I just realized I¡¯m also talking to myself aren¡¯t I? Dammit.¡± He gnawed on his lip trying to smother his laugh as Alanna let hers out without hesitation. ¡°Alright, fine! We¡¯re both awkward idiots, aren¡¯t we!¡± ¡°You know, some people have trouble meeting one awkward idiot that meshes well with them, and we each got two. How lucky is that?¡± Alanna asked in a contemplative tone. ¡°Pretty lucky.¡± James agreed easily. ¡°Now. Wanna head back and start working out where we¡¯re going tomorrow? I wanna find some new magic we can use to complicate the evolving plans for our arcology.¡± ¡°Your arcology.¡± Alanna reminded him. James just smiled and shook his head. Maybe it was his idea, originally. But it wasn¡¯t his, any more than the Order was his. He was a part of it, he brought back new wonders for it to play with, he helped protect it and build it. But it wasn¡¯t his. It wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s, really. It was for everybody, everywhere. Hell, even Harlan would be welcome in their utopia, when it was open for business. Especially if they brought the tiger along. Chapter 218 ¡°The distinction between vampires and players who Siphon also becomes blurred when considering players who happen to be inorganic entities (e.g. Pitching Machine) who, to date, appear to have consumed nothing but blood.¡± -Blaseball Wiki, Vampires- _____ Malcom McHarn¡¯s phone rang exactly twice before he picked it up. It was a desk phone, which meant that, in this building, everything he said on this conversation would be recorded and archived so an analyst could check it if needed. It was also his personal desk phone, which meant that recording would get lost. Not because he was pulling any particular espionage tricks, but because his basement office and everything that happened in it tended to get forgotten. ¡°McHarn.¡± He answered, crisply bringing the black plastic bar of the phone¡¯s receiver up to his ear. ¡°Hey Malcom. James Lyle.¡± The voice on the other end spoke. A young man¡¯s voice, that nevertheless made Malcom¡¯s blood chill. He set the phone down on his desk, stood up, walked across the ornate rug that he¡¯d gotten to cover the otherwise barren floor of his small office, and locked his door with a nod to his newest assistant as he shut the blinds on the door¡¯s inset window. Then he deliberately made his way back to his desk, picked the phone up again, and took a deep breath. ¡°This line isn¡¯t secure.¡± He said. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s fine.¡± James told him with an easy tone. ¡°DeKay isn¡¯t in the building, and I trust you¡¯ve swept your own office for bugs. Also I¡¯ve got someone on the phone thing, so don¡¯t worry about that.¡± ¡°What idiot would be stupid enough to bug the office of a deputy director of the FBI?¡± McHarn asked, rhetorically. He knew the answer to that. It was one of his own subordinates. ¡°Well. What do you need?¡± There was a pause that sounded like a wince to his experience hearing people give reports over the phone. ¡°Well,¡± James started slowly, ¡°I¡¯ve got a little information for you. Uh¡­ so, how¡¯ve you been settling into your job?¡± ¡°Badly. Get to the point.¡± Malcom was a lot of things today, but ready for small talk from an informant wasn¡¯t one of them. ¡°Okay. We¡¯ve identified the group we believe is responsible for your killings.¡± Lyle¡¯s tone snapped to businesslike in an instant, and McHarn pulled a yellow legal pad and a freshly sharpened pencil out of his desk to start scratching notes to himself. ¡°I¡¯ve got a name and a location for you, but this isn¡¯t free.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± McHarn¡¯s face twisted into a scowl. ¡°Safeguarding your country¡¯s stability isn¡¯t enough for you?¡± ¡°You know it super isn¡¯t.¡± James laughed. ¡°Remember, I believe that murder is wrong, not that oil execs are good. Don¡¯t confuse the two. I don¡¯t give a shit about economic stability paid for with blood money. We¡¯re way more personal here; you asked nicely, so we¡¯re helping you. Not the FBI, not your special division. You.¡± Something about the way the young man phrased that unsettled Malcom. He rapidly wiped the back of one hand across his smooth forehead, before he responded. ¡°Fine. What do you want for the information?¡± ¡°At their home base, these people have a series of blueprints.¡± James said simply. ¡°We want them. As well as one other thing, that we don¡¯t know the shape of yet. Everything else, take it as evidence, or whatever. You¡¯ll probably like the helicopter. Call it an early Christmas gift.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± McHarn¡¯s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, even with no one in the office to see. ¡°DeKay made it pretty clear you were extorting our discretionary budget when she worked with you.¡± ¡°That was then. This is now.¡± James said. ¡°Do you want the intel or not?¡± ¡°Go ahead.¡± ¡°Alright. You¡¯re looking for a group called Priority Earth. They were an ecoterrorist group operating for the last twenty years or so, using the kind of tactics that your division was made to fight. Something happened to them, probably recently, to change their behavior and ideology, but they¡¯re still in your wheelhouse. I¡¯ve got a set of GPS coordinates here for you, you got a pen?¡± James waited for confirmation, then rattled off a set of numbers while McHarn wrote rapidly. ¡°There¡¯s another group there too, mercenaries working with them. They¡¯re all fairly heavily armed, so be careful. Maybe thirty or forty people total.¡± James paused, then added slowly, ¡°I¡¯ve also got a bit of speculation, if you want it.¡± ¡°Sorting speculation out of noise is my job.¡± Malcom said smoothly. ¡°Right. Well, if you ever want to defect, let us know. We could use someone good at that. Anyway. Priority Earth? We think they¡¯re being used as a diversionary tactic. By an entity called the Last Line Of Defense.¡± Malcom desperately wanted to ask James how he pronounced the capital letters, but instead, he focused on the relevant details. ¡°Motive?¡± ¡°Unknown. But we know it¡¯s dangerous. If you¡¯ve noticed that there¡¯s a city missing from the US, you can blame the Line for that.¡± James told him in a grim voice. Malcom nodded with a similar grim look on his face. ¡°I have. Morocco.¡± There was a pause on the other end of the line. And then, a slow voice saying, ¡°Morocco is¡­ still around?¡± ¡°Morocco, Ohio.¡± McHarn knew he didn¡¯t have to give this information away for free, but so far, the Order of Endless Rooms was paying dividends as a contact, and the more James trusted him, the more he was going to get out of this overall. Though he did make a note to find the other missing city, while in the background of the call, he heard James¡¯ voice yelling for someone to find a man named ¡®Nate¡¯. ¡°You won¡¯t find anything there.¡± Malcom saved him some time. ¡°Literally nothing. It¡¯s like the place never was.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s fucking terrifying.¡± James said. ¡°Agreed. Anything else for me?¡± ¡°Not right now.¡± A tiny pause. ¡°How¡¯s DeKay doing?¡± ¡°She¡¯s being handled.¡± Malcom said. DeKay wasn¡¯t useless, unfortunately. She was an unnervingly good field agent, when he actually had something to point her at. Her opinions were dangerous, but that wasn¡¯t enough to have her fired. Not in the current political climate, and especially not with the fact that Malcom wasn¡¯t sure if anyone but payroll remembered his department existed. ¡°As far as she knows, I have a direct line of intelligence on your organization. So we¡¯re biding our time until you¡¯re too much of a problem to ignore.¡± ¡°Do you?¡± James asked with a smile in his voice. ¡°We¡¯re talking, aren¡¯t we? Tell me, how many people are in your organization?¡± McHarn made a joking effort to secure a small tidbit of intel. ¡°Uh¡­ define people?¡± Was not the response he expected. ¡°I suppose I walked into that one. If I say humans, I¡¯m not getting an accurate answer, am I?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Everyone always assumed when aliens arrived, they¡¯d call the White House. Maybe the Kremlin.¡± ¡°You guys would be weird about it.¡± James said. ¡°Anyways. Call me when you¡¯re ready to lose some evidence.¡± There was a click, and Malcom¡¯s phone went quiet. Gently, he settled the plastic handset back in its place, and took a deep breath. He had liked it more when Lyle was a little intimidated by him and his government agency status; with each conversation he had with the younger man, some of that faded, and he got to see more of who he actually was. A snarky, unprofessional, fundamentally compassionate human, who had to work very hard to repress his disrespect of authority figures whenever he talked to Malcom. And yet, infuriatingly, this was the best lead his office had gotten in weeks. Part of him wanted to know how James had done it. Mind reading, maybe? It would have sounded silly a few months ago, but¡­ nothing was off the table anymore, was it? Malcom looked down at the paper he¡¯d written a set of coordinates on. ¡°Alaska, huh?¡± He took a deep breath, and stood up. He had calls to make, field agents to retask, law enforcement to coordinate with, and at least two other department heads that he could draw on for resources and manpower. Maybe they¡¯d forget his department existed, but he was a deputy director, dammit, and they didn¡¯t need to know anything about his job to give him what he needed. They¡¯d play it safe. But if this panned out, this could be a major star for his career, and a chance at some real answers, besides. But first, he needed to figure out what he was going to tell his most problematic asset. _____ ¡°That went well.¡± James told Nate as he hung up. ¡°I still say we could have taken them.¡± JP protested from his spot at the table. There were a handful of other rogue division members around, listening in. But mostly, the briefing warehouse was empty, because it was fairly early morning for everyone here. JP just hadn¡¯t slept last night, and was getting increasingly irritable, which was a sharp contrast to James, who actually had slept, and was only up this early because he and Alanna had a dungeon date. ¡°There¡¯s, what, twenty guys? I could have taken them.¡± He leaned forward on his elbows, cracking his knuckles in a ball of hands as he spoke. Nate and James ignored him. They¡¯d been over this already. ¡°Smooth enough.¡± Nate admitted. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to give away our membership having species as a factor like that, though.¡± ¡°Ah, I want him used to it when it comes up. Besides, he¡¯s met Debt.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Anyway, think he¡¯ll hold up his end?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say so. He¡¯s not our friend, but he¡¯s thinking of you as an asset now, and he won¡¯t want to burn that yet. It¡¯ll help that he won¡¯t know what the blueprints are.¡± Nate scratched a thumbnail along his chin in thought. ¡°So. What¡¯re your orders for us now?¡± He swept that same hand out to show off the rest of the rogues. Ben¡¯s eyes snapped up from the laptop he was rapidly tapping at. ¡°He doesn¡¯t give us orders.¡± He said. ¡°I didn¡¯t even realize we got orders. I thought we were freelance spies.¡± Another rogue said. While Nate was shaking his head and looking like he was about to bite their heads off, James snorted a laugh and jumped in. ¡°I¡¯ve actually got two things for you guys. One? Keep on New York. Something¡¯s still happening there. But don¡¯t push it. We can benefit from knowing more, but it¡¯s not critical. Two, track down some of the people and places we got from the Priority camp and check them out. Same reason.¡± ¡°Low stakes adventure! Woo!¡± A girl off to the side threw up her hands. ¡°Also I¡¯m not a guys.¡± ¡°Guys is gender neutral.¡± JP protested. ¡°How many guys have you slept with?¡± The rogue gave him a toothy grin, and James had the sudden question on if JP was exclusively recruiting people that drove him personally insane to his growing cadre of spies. He answered in place of JP. ¡°Between one and twelve, depending on how you count Anesh.¡± He said. ¡°But I take your meaning. Nate, do you need anything else from me today?¡± ¡°We¡¯re good. Get out of here.¡± ¡°Thanks. And good job, everyone, getting us this far.¡± James nodded at them, before turning to walk away. In the end, it had been simple. The Order was growing, both in size and strength. But they couldn¡¯t handle every problem, and they didn¡¯t need to pick every single fight that showed up at their door. But the FBI was at its peak, in terms of power. And they already wanted to know about what they¡¯d uncovered here. So, solve two problems at once. Tell McHarn enough of the real truth to set him and his government goons on the actual dangerous bombers, hopefully remove an opponent from the board, score trust points with an FBI deputy director, take a chance on getting access to the magical blueprints, and, if they were really lucky, mildly inconvenience whatever the Last Line Of Defense was doing in New York. Clean, efficient, and easy. Several problems solved with one phone call. The FBI could handle the violent terrorist group with assault rifles, and the Order could get back to what they were meant to be doing. Building the future, and finding new magic. So James was feeling pretty smug as he walked out of the briefing warehouse into the early morning activities of the Lair. It was almost five AM, which meant there was less life happening, not that there was none at all. Especially as he headed back to the dining room to get some breakfast. Nate might not be cooking, but they had an actual kitchen staff now, and El¡¯s mom made great bacon. James ate while he watched Response members trading out shifts, listened in on a conversation between two exhausted engineers about building a city out of a space elevator, and nodded a quick hello to Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust as the two women sat down to their own breakfast with the motions of a solidifying habit. He had just finished his egg and toast when Alanna dramatically swept herself across the seat across from him and took a slice of his bacon with her. ¡°Yo.¡± His girlfriend said as she toppled the chair back onto all four legs. ¡°You ready?¡± ¡°More or less. Neck still aches, but I¡¯ve got ibuprofen.¡± James gave a small shrug. ¡°Turns out you can¡¯t just walk off getting shot. Who knew?¡± ¡°Well, I mean, obviously not us. The authorities are awesome, aren¡¯t they?¡± Alanna asked rhetorically. ¡°I¡¯m thinking¡­ would you mind if I bonded with one? When the hive makes more, obviously.¡± James cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Now that¡¯s an odd thought. Do you¡­ actually have a position that one would thrive off?¡± ¡°I do Response stuff!¡± Alanna looked almost hurt. ¡°Hell, I pretty much just do Response stuff.¡± She added, her voice getting more contemplative. ¡°That and hanging out with you. Fuck, wait, am I getting boring?¡± ¡°Never.¡± James said easily. ¡°Also you hang out with Anesh. But yeah, maybe take some time off?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re doing today!¡± Alanna bounced back to being excited, rubbing her palms together after she crammed the rest of James¡¯ bacon in her mouth. ¡°Dungeon things! Oh, also, speaking of Anesh. He¡¯s seriously thinking of quitting NASA. You should talk to him about it.¡± ¡°You know I¡¯m absolutely just gonna tell him to do it, though. Right?¡± James asked her as he stood and cleared his table, dropping the dishes into the plastic tub by the kitchen¡¯s side door. ¡°It¡¯s not making him happy, even if he is actively using his enormous brain.¡± Alanna leaned down to bump shoulders with James as she hopped up and started walking next to him, the two of them headed down into the basement that contained the Order¡¯s armory. ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± She said as she shared inconvenient physical contact with her boyfriend. ¡°That¡¯s why I want you to talk to him. He needs a nudge. And then he¡¯ll be around more.¡± ¡°There¡¯s three of him around!¡± James laughed. ¡°And there could be four.¡± Alanna cocked her head to stare up at the ceiling of the stairwell, pausing on the landing above James. ¡°Think of the possibilities! And¡­ you know. The mental well being of the guy we love, who is burning out because one of him is constantly alone.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the important part, really.¡± James agreed as he held the door open for her. ¡°Anyway. You ready to go on a hike?¡± Alanna didn¡¯t have a great answer to that. In theory, the two of them were excited to be going into a dungeon in a couple hours. But, despite all the wonder at the magic, and the sensation that James couldn¡¯t deny of feeling kind of badass in the armor, climbing harness, and gear loadout, there was something about Winter¡¯s Climb that wasn¡¯t exactly fun. Officium Mundi was fun. Terrifying and easy to get lost in and full of constant dangerous creatures, but also packed with small adventures. Route Horizon was fun. Terrifying and easy to get lost in and populated by occasional oversized monsters, but also a thrill to drive through and to experience the suns of. Winter¡¯s Climb was cold. It was unfun, in the same way the Akashic Sewer was. Though, in fairness, it did smell better. You couldn¡¯t ever be comfortable in it though; there was that endless pressure of the cold and the wet and the wind that made it hurt just to be in the dungeon¡¯s space. But both of them wanted to get high enough to unlock a second spell slot. And also, there was so much they hadn¡¯t seen of the place. Getting equipped was easier than it had been the first time. The Order was ready for the Mountain these days. Dry suits and armor plate and climbing harnesses, hatchets and pistols - no rifles, not since the avalanche incident - flares, breaker gloves, exercise potions, coffee thermoses, ski goggles that were enchanted to show where things were going to fall (they¡¯d made several copies of those). That, mixed with clicking a .bat file on a terminal that set them as the ¡®users¡¯ of a handful of the resistance programs they had built up copies of, making each of them roughly ten percent resistant to wood and venom. Both of those things were worryingly useful in the Climb. And then, because they were a little early, about half an hour of lounging around upstairs, waiting for the rest of their team. Because even though James and Alanna were grinning in anticipation of their dungeon date, they weren¡¯t stupid enough to not bring backup. Especially when there was a specialized Winter¡¯s Climb team that was around today anyway. ¡°Hey guys!¡± Ethan greeted them with excitement when he found them waiting. Ethan was, admittedly, too easily excited, and James remembered it grating on him when he was trying to save the younger man¡¯s life from Officium Mundi. But these days, that enthusiasm was tempered with experience, and he¡¯d turned into a fine team lead. He was already outfitted like James and Alanna, and gestured behind himself as he introduced them to the rest of his delvers. ¡°This is Marlea,¡± he said, a sweep of his hand indicating the two women with him that nodded and made a quick greeting in perfect unison, ¡°Spire-Cast-Behind, and Rudger, who is a good dragon.¡± The camraconda was armored, and had a four-limbed motorized backpack on, and was already riding on the back of the laminated paper dragon. Rudger was nowhere near the size of Pendragon, yet, but the drake was more than large enough to support the camraconda nestled in a groove on his back. ¡°Hey.¡± James nodded at all of them. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve been meaning to ask about this. Are you two always connected? Like Simon and James were?¡± He asked Marlea. ¡°Is that rude to ask? I don¡¯t know if we have skulljack etiquette yet.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, we are.¡± The two women nodded. ¡°It¡¯s not rude. Though I use a singular pronoun, please.¡± ¡°¡­Wait, what?¡± Alanna tilted her head. ¡°Are you¡­ going full hive mind with this?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± Marlea¡¯s shared voice harmonized with herself. ¡°I¡¯m literally twice the person either of my component lives were. I think everyone else is crazy for not wanting to explore this more. I¡¯ve got a couple essays written, if you¡¯re interested.¡± ¡°Kinda, yeah!¡± Alanna said, surprising herself even. ¡°But after this.¡± ¡°Yeah, you two ready?¡± Ethan asked. ¡°We¡¯ve got a stable and easy route mapped out that¡¯ll take us the first twelve hundred feet up in about four hours, but after that, we¡¯ll need to press kinda hard to make it to a structure to shelter in before we continue. Unless you want to do a broader exploration, and not just go for your second slot.¡± ¡°It¡¯s weird seeing you be professional.¡± James muttered. Though really, what he struggled with more was the sudden realization that professional dungeon delver was actually a thing that was solidifying in the Order of Endless Rooms. ¡°We¡¯ll follow your lead.¡± He added, louder. ¡°But maybe after we make camp, we can do some poking around. There¡¯s always more to find, it seems.¡± ¡°Absolutely. Alright, let¡¯s go!¡± He nodded as he held out a hand, a telepad ready to take them almost directly to the foot of the mountain that the Winter¡¯s Climb tended to grab people from. James and Alanna laced their fingers together, and slapped their palms into the circle of contact with the others. Shortly after, they were gone from their home base in Oregon, and appearing in the middle of a hiking trail in Australia. They barely had time to get their bearings before a chunk of angry ball lightning in the shape of a hole in the world dragged them off to somewhere else. _____ Snow crunched under James¡¯ boots as he flanked Alanna, the two of them moving as part of the line of delvers as they pushed through the gently sloping knee-high white ground. It was the kind of snow that had something like a shell over its surface. Not quite a frozen layer of ice, just enough that it would crack and then give all at once with every step. Enough to make walking even more exhausting, but not impossible. Not a constant tripping hazard. No, that honor went to the tangles of roots buried in the snow. Intellectually, James was aware of the fact that they were ascending a mountain, and not a parking lot, but the constant reminder that there were protruding roots and a layer of shifting pine needles underfoot was frustrating. It made it even more important to take each step carefully, to focus on the act of walking. Which was stacked on top of focusing on staying ahead of the slowly creeping storm wall behind them, focusing on not being ambushed by stickbugs or snow beasts, focusing on keeping an eye out for any incoming ice artillery from the benign looking sky, and focusing on not getting too far apart from each other while doing all of this. James and Alanna were part of the left wing of their formation, with Ethan on the far outside. Marlea took up the right side of their line, her two bodies moving in unison and keeping close. Spire-Cast-Behind stayed in the middle of their formation, the laminated drake he was riding trailing behind them and mostly following the trail Alanna was leaving, as it was the easiest to walk through. Rudger might have been the size of a horse, but most of his motion was magical and not physical and plowing through two foot high untouched snow was hard for the big guy. Especially since he was also wearing saddlebags with half their gear in it. So they made it easy and let him follow in their partially cleared paths, as Spire-Cast-Behind kept a watch out for anything hostile approaching. They¡¯d been moving for almost half an hour, and James¡¯ legs were starting to burn with that low fire of sustained exercise. The kind of feeling that made him smugly know that he could keep this up for hours without a break, that made him revel in the body he had now, shaped by a combination of magic and hard work. Still, it was worth noting that the only reason he was starting to feel the ache in his calves and not already collapsed from exertion was that Ethan and his team were leading them on a pretty easy path. Oh, sure, tripping hazards. And the cold of the snow wrapped around their legs was kept back by carefully planned gear. But the slope was gentle, nothing had tried to directly attack them yet, and there hadn¡¯t been any ice spikes falling from the sky. Winter¡¯s Climb, it turned out, was a pretty stable dungeon. The Order still didn¡¯t have enough examples to put together a full picture yet, but in his head, James did have a few classifications for the dungeons. In this case, ¡®stable¡¯ was in contrast to ¡®shifting¡¯. The Akashic Sewer and Clutter Ascent were both shifting dungeons; maybe just because they were new, maybe it was something dungeons grew out of as they figured out how they liked things. But Route Horizon went in the shifting category too; its roads sort of had a pattern to them, but it wasn¡¯t a hundred percent predictable. Officium Mundi was stable, though. It could change, and it did that thing where it tended to reset parts of itself, but the actual big picture map of it stayed the same week to week. Just like the Climb. Where, if you were a group of dedicated explorers, you could start to route out the best way to get from the screaming cliffs that the entrance dropped you in at up to the height of two thousand feet needed to get the second spell slot. It annoyed James immensely that the Climb used feet. It was in Australia, technically. He considered complaining about this to Alanna, but he¡¯d have to speak pretty loudly to be heard over the sporadic blasts of sharp wind, and they were both in the groove. Step, push down, test the ground, pull forward, one foot at a time to maximize stability. Play it safe, they had plenty of time, they were already ahead of the storm. The other thing that was annoying about this place was, despite being stable, it did the Officium Mundi thing of stripping away the guide ropes and climbing pitons that they tried to leave. It meant that a lot of their navigation was done by landmark, and there was also no promise that those would stay where they were. But the dungeon hadn¡¯t screwed them over just yet. James corrected his hiking spacing as he got too near to Ethan. Their line was spread out for a reason; they were close enough to help each other, but not so close that a single tripwire trap could take out more than one of them. Ideally, they just wouldn¡¯t trigger any traps, but this dungeon really liked putting things under the snow. It actually got kind of silly after the fourth time either Ethan or Spire-Cast-Behind called out a space they should avoid stepping. James knew that experience with a dungeon could make a person look really impressive to someone who was new, but he¡¯d been here before, and he had no idea how they were spotting the triplines. ¡°We go left up here!¡± Ethan¡¯s voice was projected to be heard, but he wasn¡¯t yelling as he pointed to the ridge they were approaching. ¡°The outcrop stops and we can keep climbing the hill in about a quarter mile!¡± ¡°Got it!¡± Alanna called, checking for a nod from James for good measure. They pressed on, until they made their way to the base of the rocks that they¡¯d been headed for. It wasn¡¯t a sheer cliff or anything, it was more like a pile of boulders that had been piled up and gradually had the rest of the world fill in dirt and snow and plants around them. And if Ethan was right, it wasn¡¯t a very long barrier either. They could just climb it, but climbing freehand in this place was a worrying prospect, and even if it took a little extra time, it was worth saving the energy to just go around. They lined up near the rocks and turned to start moving, Ethan taking the lead now ahead of them. On their left, as they moved, a thin collection of anemic pine trees started to appear in their line of sight out of the thin snow, while the rocks to their right kept their vision a little clearer as they blocked some of the wind. The trees here, James remembered, tended to be ambush points or maybe nests for the weird long limbed stick monsters. So he was keeping an eye on them, closely. Even if he knew Spire-Cast-Behind was probably also doing the same It was why he didn¡¯t catch the motion from the rocks to his right as something sinuous darted out for him. Alanna caught it though. One hand moving in a blur as she snapped across James¡¯ field of vision to grab the snake that had lashed out at him by whatever part of a snake the neck was. James¡¯ brain caught up to the motion just as the thing started to writhe in her grip, trying to sink long fangs that glittered like ice into her arm. Alanna squeezed it. And then, even through the mask and goggles, James could see her face twist in confusion as the snake didn¡¯t die. He focused on the thing quickly, and saw coils that were too rough, segments of a body that were more like chunks of rock than flesh. Moving quickly and saving the time it would take to communicate this to Alanna, he just dipped his mind down to the Status Quo breaker glove that he was wearing, triggered the effect that shattered stone, and lashed out with a tightly controlled punch, putting the force of his whole body behind it. His gloved fist connected with the stone snake¡¯s head where it was currently sticking up out of Alanna¡¯s grip as she tried to hold it away from her face, and the snake exploded. Chunks of wet stone and an explosion of blood like pure melted ice splattered across the snow ahead of them with a bang that echoed off the terrain. No stopping the movement, James let the tug on his awareness guide him and set his feet to Alanna¡¯s right, pivoting just in time to jam another punch through the center of the second snake that lunged out of its nest in the rocks at him. That one, too, simply exploded as he hit it. The creature¡¯s body popping in a shockwave ripple as the magically enhanced impact traveled down its body with another bang. Catching on, Alanna switched to a stance that brought her own breaker glove up, but no more snakes jumped out at them. Seconds later, the rest of the team clustered around them, the big laminated drake shoving his body in between the group and the trees like a wall, everyone on high alert. ¡°We¡¯re good!¡± James told them as he caught his breath. ¡°Couple of rock snakes. Which I guess are a thing?¡± ¡°Not usually around here, but yes.¡± Marlea said, her dual voice carrying well with the wind having died down temporarily. ¡°Their fangs are actually a kind of industrial sapphire, if you want a souvenir.¡± She looked to Ethan, who was sweeping the line of trees with his gaze. ¡°More importantly, the noise will attract anything nearby. We should move quickly.¡± James and Alanna nodded, and got ready to hustle, when it became clear it was too late. A half dozen wooden figures had dropped out of the trees and were closing the gap to them, long spindly limbs and¡­ nothing else. The stick creatures were basically nothing but long spindly limb, with all the sharp bits dripping with dendrification venom. One of them froze, then another, then a third as the first one started moving again. Spire-Cast-Behind using his paralyzing gaze to stagger out their approach. ¡°Alright, everyone back!¡± Ethan¡¯s voice was tight. ¡°Six of them, be on the lookout for others! We¡¯ll repel their first hits and then see if they follow!¡± James and Alanna shot each other a confused look. ¡°Or¡­ let us handle it?¡± Alanna said to Ethan, who gave her an equally confused look. ¡°Yeah, we got this.¡± She nodded as she and James stepped past Ethan, who tried to grab their arms and yell something cautionary at them. But they just stepped up to the front and unhooked their hatchets. ¡°Ready?¡± Alanna asked James. ¡°Set.¡± He replied, his heart starting to hammer. Not in fear, though, or even excitement. Just in simple anticipation of a fight for his life. The two of them dared one more look at each other before the first three stick creatures made it to them. ¡°Go!¡± Alanna¡¯s voice held a feral glee that James¡¯ didn¡¯t quite feel himself as she burst forward, a side armed swing of her axe leaving a green splatter of blood-adjacent-fluid on the snow. James followed, his own weapon moving quickly and effectively as he tore into the incoming monsters. With support from a camraconda that had a little bit of elevation, it was hardly even a fight, really. In no time at all, he and Alanna had mopped up the incoming ¡®ambush¡¯, and were catching their breath, ready to get moving again. ¡°What¡­ the fuck was that?¡± Marlea demanded as they used handfuls of snow to wipe the green blood off their axes before reholstering them. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°What was what?¡± James asked. ¡°You just¡­ went right through them.¡± Ethan said, his voice subdued now, hard to hear over the growing strength of the gusts that were chasing them. ¡°We don¡¯t¡­ we normally fight, sure, but not like that.¡± ¡°We just¡­ I mean, it¡¯s¡­¡± James paused as he realized that nothing he had to say here would actually sound very reassuring. ¡°I dunno what to tell you, I guess.¡± He shrugged lamely. ¡°Though I¡¯m actually fine fighting more defensively; we¡¯ll try to work with your formations from now on?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Ethan looked uncertain. They moved on, but it was a while before the others stopped shooting looks at James and Alanna when they thought the two wouldn¡¯t notice. It got old after the third time he noticed. ¡°For fucks sake, we don¡¯t have a case of the bloodlusts.¡± James would have thrown his hands up if he weren¡¯t starting to get tired. ¡°Stop being so weird about it!¡± He declared as they made their way up an embankment that was actually somewhat bare of snow, following the bank of a thin stream of water that flowed down from somewhere up ahead. ¡°You¡¯re making this weird.¡± He grumbled as he tested a patch of ground and found it too icy to step on. His words actually did break them out of their apprehension. Well, the humans anyway. Spire-Cast-Behind was completely used to that level of violence, it was just Ethan and Marlea who were more cautious and reserved when it came to fighting. But they were delvers, they did fight all the time. It was just that, to them, fighting was a defensive action that ended when the things attacking them pulled back, not when they eliminated everything moving. Which actually surprised James. They talked some more as they kept climbing. Winter¡¯s Climb, it turned out, was a little more natural with its wildlife. Oh, there was a lot of evidence that the monsters were straight up monsters, and not part of an ecosystem or even particularly sentient. But they did display some weird behaviors and tactics sometimes. The stick things, for example, actually would pull back if they didn¡¯t manage to seriously injure anyone within a minute or two of ambushing, even if they weren¡¯t hurt themselves. It had become a habit of theirs to just survive the fights, trusting in their armor, camraconda, and a magical enhancements, to get them through without injury, without having to expend the extra effort to actually fight to the death. Part of James thought that was kind of weird, and especially unsafe since it left an enemy at their backs. But it had literally never been an issue; once they were past the ambush, the stick things didn¡¯t try again, just returning to their trees to wait for their next chance. And really, he¡¯d only been here maybe three times, while Ethan and his team came through every few days. They¡¯d been here almost thirty times, and as Alanna pointed out, this time they were the experts. Which became apparent with how quickly they set up a climbing line when they reached the first cliff of their trip. It wasn¡¯t a straight line of rock or anything, and they probably could have done it freehand without too much of a problem, but Marlea went first, hammering pitons into the stone and leaving behind a line that the rest of them could clip their harnesses to. Ascending was a matter of minutes to go up what felt like twenty or thirty feet. Faster for James, who had Zhu helping him find the perfect footholds as he ascended, the navigator exerting a small amount of his energy to help out, even though he was mostly keeping back unless needed. Once the majority of them were at the top, they all worked together to help haul up Rudger. The big drake might have been made of mostly paper and plastic, but he still weighed a lot. Alanna had asked why he didn¡¯t just fly up over these bits as she dug her feet in and strained her muscles to provide the lift the drake needed to claw his way more easily up the stone, and had gotten the answer that the Climb did not like it when you flew in here. It barely tolerated drones. It absolutely would not put up with anyone alive trying to skip any of its obstacles. Ice strikes would become more frequent, and the wind would start to get sharp enough to flay someone alive if they were more than a few feet off the ground. They¡¯d tried once, and only barely got out without injuries via telepad. Marlea brought the rope in, retrieving most of the pitons, and the group pressed on, keeping ahead of the storm wall behind them. They were making good time, and so they kept to the route that the team had traced out ahead of time. Skipping a few shallow overhangs in the rocks, taking a trail that kept them away from the frozen lakes that everyone was still perfectly reasonably nervous about, and heading up at a quick pace to the first stopping point they had planned. By the time they saw the first traffic light, standing proudly in the growing flurries of icy white that were coming down, everyone had downed at least one exercise potion to keep themselves fresh, and James was ready to take a break. The green pool of light that splashed across the snow like an uneven ring of paint did have a magical quality to it. Not literal magic, but a more emotional spell; the feeling of a world that had been quieted by the storm, where light and color were like islands in the cold. It was also, he knew, a sign they had started to get near to a building. No one knew yet, even the experienced exploration team for this very dungeon, if the colors on these lone traffic lights meant anything. But he took the green as a good sign as they filed past. Though James did frown into his ski mask as he tried to remember if Australia used blue and not green, and if this dungeon was just screwing with him. He became absolutely certain it was when they reached the shelter marked on the map. The fact that the building was surrounded by a patch of absolutely no trees at all was strange, but the realization that it actually had a parking lot was weirder. It was the rotting and broken remains of the sign on the front of the one story office complex that really made James unsettled, though. What looked like half a massive human tooth, black cracks running down its frame and a crown of snow piled on top in a cone, sat above the shattered front windows of the building they were going to rest in. ¡°You brought us to a dentist¡¯s office.¡± James stated flatly as they stepped inside, alert for anything moving in the interior. He could think of a million horrible things that could come from a dentist¡¯s office. But nothing moved. The front lobby was silent and dark, nothing left of the reception area but waterlogged appointment books and broken piles of junk that used to be phones. Ethan said it was safe, but all of them still swept the building for anything dangerous before they found places to sit and take a breather. ¡°I assume you¡¯ve searched here before?¡± James asked. ¡°We did. But didn¡¯t find anything useful.¡± Marlea said with a shrug. ¡°Though some of the dentist tools could be? There was actually a drill the first time that should still work, but we didn¡¯t take it. Because, well, how do you test that?¡± Alanna winced, grinding her teeth together. ¡°Ahhhhh, that could go bad. I¡¯m imagining it vaporizing someone¡¯s mouth now. Eugh.¡± She twitched, splaying her hands in front of her to ward off the thought. ¡°But like, you didn¡¯t find any books here?¡± ¡°Like the spell textbooks?¡± Ethan asked. ¡°No, annoyingly. There was half of a dental hygiene textbook here, but it wasn¡¯t enough to work, and we didn¡¯t find anything else.¡± He glared at the frozen tile floor where they¡¯d set up in the back office space, trying to get away from the wind pushing through the broken front windows into the lobby. It wasn¡¯t actually that much warmer, but at least without the wind it was quieter, and they could sit for a little. ¡°Mar thinks it¡¯s because this is sort of the easy route.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± James quirked an eyebrow at the pair of woman. ¡°The dungeons want to challenge us.¡± Marlea shrugged. ¡°It makes sense that there¡¯s better prizes in the harder parts. We¡¯re still doing it, here, but I think it¡¯s fair enough that the hike without the ice spikes has less free magic in it.¡± ¡°Conjecture.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind punctuated the words with a camraconda hiss. ¡°From my origin point, I am no more difficult to kill than one of the shellaxy creatures. Why do I reward more?¡± ¡°You can stop things from moving by looking at them?¡± Alanna offered, making a finger gun out of her gloved hand to punctuate the statement. ¡°Also this does kinda line up with Officium Mundi more than anything else. The deeper places always have way more stuff in them, even if it¡¯s just cash.¡± ¡°It¡¯s so fucking weird that we don¡¯t find cash in other dungeons, by the way.¡± James added. ¡°Also, how long are we resting?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± Ethan said. ¡°Me too.¡± Marlea added her voices. The drake just rustled as he stood back up. James cracked his knuckles and pulled his goggles back down. Time to get moving again. It was strange how almost entirely uneventful the climb was. Oh, it wasn¡¯t easy by any stretch. The storm felt like it was closing in from all sides, the sky darkened, and the wind tugged at them from multiple directions. The snow that had been brief flurries and a constant black static against the sky became thicker, trying to constantly block out their vision, separate them from their party. They clipped ropes to their harnesses, so they didn¡¯t get too far away, as visibility dropped. The enchanted goggles proved their worth when the first spike of sharpened ice dropped out of the sky in front of them, and then more and more of the aerial artillery started coming down. But none of them ever managed to find the delvers; they were always just far enough out of the way of the dropping spikes. A snow drift tried to eat them at one point, the mass of wet snow unfurling icicle jaws under their feet as they tried to climb over it. Spire-Cast-Behind locked down the single opponent, and they moved past it without incident. It decided not to give chase. The deadly icefall picked up, and they took temporary shelter in an overhang set against one of the cliffs they didn¡¯t dare try until the storm ebbed. The overhang turned out to be more of a tunnel, and, curious, the group left Rudger to guard the entrance he couldn¡¯t fit through, and poked their noses in. Their flashlights illuminated painted markings on the rock walls, wobbly abstract lines that were interspersed with hanging bits of metal. Hubcaps, street signs, handfuls of coins. ¡°Well, at least we know this dungeon makes money.¡± James had said, poking at what looked like a perfectly normal quarter glued to the cave wall. The cave came to an abrupt end with a four by four grid of lines drawn on a too-smooth wall. Two of the squares of it were glowing, a soft blue light seeming to drip from the stone. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m not the smartest guy,¡± Ethan said, folding his arms and looking back at the rest of them, ¡°but we¡¯ve all played this video game puzzle, right?¡± They had. With the rest of them watching for traps or ambush, Ethan touched one of the squares with a gloved finger, and the squares adjacent to it lit up, or went dark, respectively. James gave a respectful nod as Ethan made a series of rapid taps, quickly lighting the whole grid and firmly disproving his self-inflicted title of ¡®not the smartest guy¡¯. Then the wall had slipped into the floor, and they¡¯d been met with an alcove. Within it, a raised pillar of smooth stone came up to about waist height, and on top of it, hundreds of hockey-puck-sized gold coins sat glittering in the beams of their flashlights in neat stacks. ¡°Oh well that¡¯s just fucking mean.¡± Alanna swore. ¡°We¡¯re rich!¡± Ethan exclaimed. ¡°We¡¯re already rich!¡± James reminded him. ¡°We could be richer, and it¡¯s not like we don¡¯t have the backpack room, since we¡¯ve found nothing else.¡± Marlea said. Alanna groaned. ¡°I feel like you guys are underestimating how fucking heavy gold is.¡± ¡°It¡¯s probably not solid gold.¡± James suggested. ¡°But regardless, let¡¯s get this back to the entrance, and split it up while we wait.¡± They did so, each of them moving an armful of the metal ¡®coins¡¯. Alanna was right, though. It was fucking heavy. Enough that, when they did move on, the stack of the coins in the bottom of James¡¯ pack made moving noticeably a little tougher. They navigated upward, taking more time to safely crawl their way up the cliffs and ledges, and spending a lot of effort to haul Rudger up after them, the drake¡¯s developing office chair claws having trouble finding purchase on the increasingly treacherous stone. At one point, James spotted a line of streetlights through the growing blizzard, orange lights glowing like small blazes in the darkening air. He pointed it out to the others, and they came to a quick decision to avoid it. From the curve, they assumed it was a ring, and from what they knew, those rings contained two things. Blank books, and dragons guarding them. They were ready for a lot, but none of them would be immune or resistant to the emotional weapon the dragons here had shown before. It hurt to pass up the chance, but James had learned this lesson repeatedly. It was not worth it to risk death just for a little magic. And then, Marlea pointed out a landmark; a distant and barely visible red light in the sky, the top of a radio antenna that scraped the cloud layer. The group gathered behind a packed chunk of ice and snow, and hunkered down. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Ethan said. ¡°We¡¯re past the two thousand line here!¡± ¡°What, just like that?¡± Alanna asked, and James could feel her eyebrows raise. ¡°That was easy!¡± ¡°We nearly died several times, shut up!¡± Ethan cheerfully replied as Marlea carefully pulled out a telepad and they started stripping gloves off to join hands. ¡°And that was a seven hour hike and climb! There are marathons that take less work than we just did! If you want to come in to do your own exploration, that¡¯s cool, and we¡¯d love to have the maps! But this tour is up, and we are outta here.¡± His teammate tore the telepad without any further preamble, and just like that, their trip came to a close. [Cowardice. Deception. Ascension : 2,399 ft. Bestowal : +66 Breath Storage, +1 Available Learning] _____ The Lair¡¯s bath was, as far as James was concerned, their greatest contribution to the lives of everyone that lived and worked there. Or, at least, the biggest ongoing bonus. For some people, it was literally ¡®their lives¡¯, and he felt weird comparing saving someone from death to unlimited hot water. But the unlimited hot water was really compelling. There was an evolving etiquette to the place that he was also becoming more comfortable with. He and Alanna, when they¡¯d gotten back sometime in the late afternoon, had found the bath actually fairly occupied. So they¡¯d chosen one of the hot segments of the bath, and just asked if the people minded company. Asking was important, as was the fact that anyone could say no for any reason and it was fine. As it was, the group in there already had been fine with it, and two of them were leaving anyway. It was still a little weird, being naked with other people around, but any trepidation vanished when James claimed one of the spots under the heavy waterfall of hot water. It was like a good shower, only with enough water pressure to drown in, which was perfect. After he and Alanna had warmed up and gotten the sweat and dirt from their long hike off, they¡¯d wrapped up the story they were sharing with the other bathers, climbed out, tapped the water with the purify food power of the Status Quo brooch hanging on the wall, and headed out. ¡°I thinnnnnnk¡­¡± Alanna drawled, ¡°curry.¡± ¡°I have no idea how you¡¯re hungry.¡± James shook his head at her. ¡°I¡¯m too sore to be hungry.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m hungry.¡± She declared with a grin. ¡°And Anesh offered to treat me to that one good curry place. So I¡¯m gonna do that. I¡¯ll see you later tonight?¡± ¡°Probably. Also we live in a city with at least six good curry places, you gotta be more specific.¡± ¡°No I don¡¯t! Love you!¡± Alanna called as she waved over her shoulder and headed out to get lunch with their boyfriend. ¡°I love you too! Tell Anesh I said something sappy!¡± James called after her, shaking his head with a peaceful smile on his face as Alanna¡¯s retreating form gave him a thumbs up. He didn¡¯t really know exactly how his life had ended up this way. But he kind of loved it. Also, as tired as he was, it was a kind of floaty tiredness. His muscles weren¡¯t even really hurting, the exercise potion had worked overtime, and done its job perfectly. The hike and climb and the few fights hadn¡¯t been easy, but while he was sore, it was the kind of lingering soreness of having rested for a few days after a comprehensive workout, and nothing more. Between that feeling of satisfying growth, and the warm bath, he was feeling pretty good. And with his thoughts relaxed and his outlook positive, he made a quick decision on how to spend the rest of his day, before he could second guess himself. It wasn¡¯t to fill his second spell slot. No, that would come later, and he still wasn¡¯t sure what he wanted to use it on, if anything. He might just wait until they¡¯d found more books. And it also wasn¡¯t to check in on the value of the gold they¡¯d brought back; James¡¯ brain wasn¡¯t wired for wealth, really. They¡¯d gotten rich enough to do some things, and so he stopped thinking about it, until they needed more money to do more things. Instead, he wound his way through the basement hallways, until he found himself moving through a space that was once a smooth concrete floored underground storage room, and was currently something a lot more livable. The apartments that the Order had put together, where a good chunk of their membership lived now, were wrapped around the walls of the room in a configuration that there absolutely was not enough space for. Each of the units was itself fairly mundane, but the way that the distance down and up to each one was different, the way that three stories of two bedroom apartments fit inside a single floor of a basement, and the fact that there was cold winter sunlight pouring down from overhead despite the fact that they were underground, all sort of contributed to the instant recognition that this space was magical. In the middle of the ¡®courtyard¡¯ that the horseshoe of living space surrounded, a series of six metal cylinders sat inside a low brick wall that ringed in the art project. And it was an art project. James was one of a handful of people who knew that the orange totems that maintained the warped and replicated living spaces around him wasn¡¯t here. Its actual location was somewhere much less public. For most of the totems, anyway. The ones for which catastrophic failure just wasn¡¯t a fucking option. The sculpture here did contain a few of the less dangerous ones, like the totem that kept the skylight up, or the one that made it so that you didn¡¯t actually have to climb any stairs to make it to the second floor if you didn¡¯t want to. James made his way inside the left side of the apartments, though he did wonder if that distinction actually mattered as he passed by rows of doors that were way too close together for there to not be magic happening. This was either spatial warping, or a coffin motel, and he had a little inside knowledge on which one was more likely. When he got to the door he was looking for, he found himself paradoxically more nervous than he had been fighting for his life a few hours ago. Which made him laugh to himself, and made knocking a little bit easier. James shuffled his feet, trying to figure out how to look casual as he waited, and utterly failing to accomplish it. When the door cracked open, he jumped and jammed his hands in his pockets as a black furred face peeked out at him. ¡°Yess?¡± Keeka¡¯s voice came through the small gap in the door with what sounded like more nerves than James had. ¡°Oh, hey Keeka.¡± He said, smiling at the ratroach who opened the door more fully as he heard James¡¯ voice. ¡°How¡¯re things going?¡± ¡°G-good.¡± The ratroach gave two short nods of his triangular head, shifting to lean on the door with a pair of his arms. ¡°I am getting¡­ better at¡­ talking.¡± He said, the right side of his mouth cracking in a fanged smile. ¡°The orb that grows our lungs is¡­ helping.¡± The ratroach wiped the chitinous back of a paw across his mouth, catching a drop of corrosive blue drool. ¡°Are you alright?¡± He asked. ¡°¡­why would I not be alright?¡± James asked, suddenly confused. ¡°You don¡¯t come here often.¡± Keeka pointed out. ¡°Oh. I mean, I was¡­ in the area? No, wow, that sounds intolerably stupid.¡± James snorted as he got his conversational feet under himself, and Keeka blinked and nodded at his comment. ¡°Honestly, I was just going to talk to Arrush while I was feeling okay.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Keeka said, his multiple eyes flickering in relieved blinks as his shoulders slightly untensed. ¡°That is good. That there is nothing wrong.¡± Then he stopped, and pushed himself away from the door, leaving his apartment hanging open as he leaned forward on digitigrade legs to peer up at James with a sharp nose. The ratroach tilted his head, examined James¡¯ face, then pulled back again. ¡°Oh!¡± He said suddenly. ¡°I¡­ oh. Yes.¡± He nodded, as James realized that trying to be circumspect was meaningless with this particular ratroach. ¡°Arrush is not here.¡± Keeka said suddenly. ¡°Oh.¡± James felt like that word was getting used a lot today. ¡°Well dang!¡± He sighed. ¡°He is in¡­ Tennessessee.¡± Keeka informed him. ¡°Kirk is teaching him to drive.¡± He sounded a strange mix of sad and proud, but James might have been reading too far into the tone of voice for a nonhuman speaker. ¡°Do you¡­ want to come in?¡± He asked James suddenly. James smiled and shrugged. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± He said, stepping forward as Keeka moved back to let him into the apartment he shared with Arrush. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve actually been in your apartment! I moved a lot of furniture down here, but never made the last jump with it.¡± He mused as Keeka shut the door, and locked it rapidly. And then another lock that James was pretty sure wasn¡¯t standard. Then peeked out the peephole. ¡°Are¡­ you doing alright?¡± He asked Keeka as he stood awkwardly in the living room. ¡°Fine. Why?¡± The ratroach actually did seem okay as he moved past James, seeming much more comfortable now that the door was closed. Keeka settled down on the long black cloth couch that dominated the back wall of the room, pulling his skirt up and folding his legs into a splayed pattern as he sat down next to a pair of large padded headphones. The apartment was sparsely decorated, and had a kind of chaotic clutter to it. A big couch, a couple tall stools up against the kitchen counter, a tall stereo speaker in the corner. There wasn¡¯t really anything on the walls, which gave it a bare feeling, and there were different bits of clothing or books or electronics set haphazardly on every surface. James noticed that the kitchen also had a fair number of dishes in it, which he felt almost unnaturally compelled to clean. ¡°You just seemed nervous.¡± James said, leaning on the edge of the couch. ¡°And, you know, I care about you guys.¡± Keeka nodded rapidly at him, his hands toying with the headphones like it was a fidget toy. ¡°We know.¡° He said happily. ¡°I don¡¯t like¡­ the door open. That¡¯s all.¡± He glanced down the hallway and away from James. ¡°Everyone is nice, and I am still hiding.¡± He muttered. ¡°Psh. Man, that¡¯s fine.¡± James said. ¡°I just won¡¯t stand out in the hallway so long next time. That¡¯s easy.¡± He gave a small chuckle. ¡°A lot of people have stuff like that that bothers them, you know? It¡¯s not bad or anything, just let me know if I do anything so I can avoid it.¡± ¡°My therapist says that¡­¡± Keeka looked up at James, and James suddenly realized how much Keeka was directly meeting his gaze. No longer trying to keep his head ducked all the time. ¡°She says it¡¯s¡­ a work in progress.¡± ¡°Your therapist sounds cool.¡± James grinned at him. ¡°So, what¡¯ve you been up to lately? I haven¡¯t really seen you around since we went to the beach what feels like a short lifetime ago.¡± ¡°M-music.¡± Keeka¡¯s voice still shook as he talked. ¡°Pottery. And¡­ waiting? Waiting. Talking to the doctors. Preparing to change again.¡± He shivered, bringing his smaller arm up to rub at his muzzle. ¡°And Arrush.¡± He added, his mouth twisting into a small smile. James barked out a surprised laugh at the phrasing Keeka had chosen, sliding forward over the arm of the couch. ¡°Sorry!¡± He said, as Keeka stared at him intensely. ¡°Sorry, I just¡­ the way you phrased that sounded maybe unintentionally¡­ uh¡­ lewd?¡± The ratroach nodded, ignoring the drip of corrosive drool that dropped down to the sleeve of his sweatshirt. ¡°Yes.¡± He said, then looked down at where James was uncomfortably sprawled on the other side of his seat. ¡°Not unintentional. We can be¡­ lewd¡­ here. And no one will kill us. You still¡­ still don¡¯t know.¡± Keeka¡¯s voice hitched as he spoke. ¡°You don¡¯t know what it means to us. What you gave us. No one here hurts. Not really. So no, not unintentional. Just¡­ what I meant.¡± Keeka looked away from James, tilting his angular head up to stare at a corner of the ceiling, ¡°Then I¡¯m sorry for being an ass.¡± James said instantly. ¡°Though if you meant it to be funny, you did a great job. Also¡­ I dunno, man. I think I know how horrible your lives were. And I¡¯m just glad you feel safer here.¡± He sighed as he righted himself and settled into the couch cushions near Keeka¡¯s spot. ¡°Also, backing up a bit, you¡¯re still working on the shaper substance thing? How¡¯s that going?¡± ¡°Good!¡± Keeka whipped his head back around as he refocused on the conversation. His breath came in fast bursts and his heart was pounding as what James said washed over him, but he was grateful for the change in topic. ¡°I h-have¡­ a plan for what I will be.¡± His hands turned the headphones he was holding over in a steady rhythm as he spoke. ¡°It will hurt, but it will make me better. Organs first, Deb says. So I study, and get ready. Next¡­ next week.¡± To James, the ratroach sounded more nervous than excited. Without thinking, he reached over and set a hand on Keeka¡¯s head, rustling his wiry fur affectionately. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll go great.¡± He said. ¡°I think at this point we can safely say Deb is far from reckless with this stuff, right?¡± ¡°R-right!¡± Keeka said, a ripple of tension going through his arms as James made contact with him, before he relaxed slightly and leaned into the hand on his head. James smiled, and left his hand there among the ratraoch¡¯s antenna for a few lingering seconds, before he pulled back. ¡°So, what¡¯re you gonna look like?¡± He asked Keeka. ¡°Better!¡± Keeka said instantly. James blinked and stilted a laugh. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s a surprise.¡± Keeka said, folding his arms. His own toothy smile slipped a little. ¡°So that¡­ so that if I¡­ do it wrong, then it won¡¯t be a problem.¡± James huffed at him. ¡°Bah!¡± He said dramatically. ¡°But also, uh¡­ maybe focus on your internal organs more than how you look, okay?¡± He let a little pleading enter his tone. ¡°I don¡¯t want you dying because you think you don¡¯t look good already.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t look good.¡± Keeka said, one paw coming up without thought to tug at the hood of his sweatshirt. Though he refrained from pulling it over his head entirely. ¡°It is¡­ hard to forget. That I¡¯m a mons-¡° ¡°Stop.¡± James commanded abruptly, pointing a finger at Keeka with a storm brewing in his eyes. ¡°But¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± James restated. ¡°No self-depreciation over body image here!¡± He let his voice soften. ¡°I admit, I might be the wrong person to say this, because I don¡¯t like how I look either, but wow you do not get to call yourself that, okay? Not here.¡± James watched Keeka as the ratroach recoiled slightly, but eventually gave a small nod of acceptance. ¡°Good.¡± He stated. ¡°Now, that said, it¡¯s still fine to change yourself to look more like what you want. But also¡­ I dunno, maybe I¡¯ll call Arrush and ask him what he thinks of how you look, just to embarrass you into submission.¡± ¡®That is mean!¡± Keeka protested. ¡°And unfair!¡± He paused, and then stared at James with cunning in his expression. ¡°May I borrow your phone?¡± ¡°Sure, why?¡± James reflexively started to pull his phone out of his pocket. ¡°To call¡­ Anesh.¡± Keeka stretched out the ¡®n¡¯ in Anesh¡¯s name as he spoke. James slowly retreated the phone he was holding out across the couch cushion. ¡°Nnnnno.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Because that would ruin me being unfair.¡± He barked out a laugh and jerked back as Keeka suddenly lunged across the couch at him, the black furred ratroach uncoiling his legs in a burst of motion that speared him toward James, trying to snatch the phone in what was still obviously a playful motion. In a moment, James found himself holding his phone over his head as all of Keeka¡¯s arms pressed down on his face and shoulders, the comparatively light creature trying to scramble up him like his sitting form was a tower to be climbed. Still laughing, so hard that he was running out of breath, James toppled backward, hitting his head against the arm of the couch with an audible crack as he fell with Keeka landing in his lap. ¡°No!¡± Keeka¡¯s voice turned terrified in an instant as he sprawled on James. ¡°Ow.¡± James was less worried, and more just feeling benign amusement. And also a small headache. ¡°Oof. That was dumb of me.¡± He mumbled. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine, don¡¯t worry.¡± He looked down his prone form at Keeka, who was staring at him with wide insectile eyes. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°¡­my ot- my boyfriend likes you.¡± Keeka said suddenly, shifting against James. James lowered his arm slowly, tucking his phone back in his pocket as he sighed. ¡°I know.¡± He said. ¡°I have no idea how to feel about it, or what to do about it, or anything. I was gonna try to talk to him today, which is, you know, why I came by. But also I was secretly planning to chicken out and instead be awkward about it or make up some excuse about wanting to just have a conversation or go on a walk or something.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Keeka seemed confused. ¡°Because I¡¯m constantly terrified of driving away people I like?¡± James shrugged, feeling Keeka¡¯s limbs shift against him as he moved. ¡°I think it¡¯s a human thing. We¡¯re really bad at being emotionally open and shit. And, like, I know it¡¯s largely cultural, and I want it to stop. So I¡¯m trying to build a world where the kids we¡¯ve got around here can grow up better. But that doesn¡¯t make me less scared.¡± Keeka tilted his head down to rest on his arm, looking away as he softly crushed James¡¯ stomach with his weight. ¡°I don¡¯t think of you as scared.¡± He mumbled. James didn¡¯t reply right away, and Keeka continued when he¡¯d had a minute to collect his thoughts. ¡°You seem¡­ always¡­ like you know?¡± ¡°To be fair, half the time you see me, there¡¯s a major crisis going on.¡± James pointed out. ¡°I get focused when people are shooting at me.¡± ¡°I understand.¡± Keeka said with a simple acceptance of that fact that came too easily to not make James¡¯ heart hurt a little to hear it. ¡°I¡­ I do understand.¡± He perked up, suddenly. Staring out at the empty living room like he¡¯d just realized something. ¡°Y-you don¡¯t¡­¡± Keeka took a deep breath, his lungs aching from the prolonged conversation, but his new enhancements making it possible for him to talk for this long for the first time. ¡°¡­you don¡¯t have to be afraid of me.¡± He told James, still looking away. ¡°You tell us, all the time. But no one ever tells you, do they?¡± Keeka asked suddenly. ¡°I¡­ guess not.¡± James admitted. It was almost funny, but he kept back his reflex to laugh at everything. It didn¡¯t feel right, in the moment. ¡°Anesh and Alanna do sometimes. Sarah. Obviously.¡± ¡°O-of course.¡± Keeka gave a bobbing nod, wiping his thinner arm against his mouth again as he agreed. ¡°But yeah. No one ever really just¡­ lets anyone know that everything is okay.¡± James let himself flop back onto the couch. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why the world sucks so much.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Thanks.¡± He told the ratroach that was still sitting on him. ¡°I¡­ I like you too.¡± Keeka said suddenly, his voice scratchy and wavering, the exposed skin around his eyes coloring a bright green as he tried not to stare at a wall while he spoke. James paused as his brain caught up to that. ¡°Uh¡­¡± He realized, suddenly, that he was absolutely unprepared for this situation, and he had almost literally nothing to say. ¡°Uh?¡± He settled on, trying to fill the awkward conversational gap. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry!¡± Keeka stammered, suddenly jerking away, rolling off James and onto the floor, landing on a multitude of uneven limbs in a motion that was asymmetrically graceful. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­¡± Suddenly, James found he actually did know what to say. ¡°Okay, hold on.¡± He said, sitting up. ¡°Don¡¯t panic, please. Deep breaths.¡± He gave Keeka a worried look. ¡°You don¡¯t need to apologize for anything, we¡¯ve been over this. I just¡­ wasn¡¯t expecting that. Man, I came here already not knowing what I should say to one person, and now I¡¯m just doubly uncertain and confused and¡­ bah!¡± ¡°D-do you not¡­ like us?¡± Keeka asked. Normally, if someone had said that to James, it would have actually made him angry. That kind of sentence, to him, had always felt like emotional blackmail when he¡¯d heard it before. But Keeka¡¯s tone wasn¡¯t one that tried to drag sympathy or pity out of him. Instead, it sounded like just curiosity. And maybe that was James misinterpreting it because Keeka¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t human, and it could be hard sometimes to tell, but he was pretty sure that Keeka was really just trying to figure things out too, just like him. So his answer was more measured, and he tried to be openly honest. The way he wanted the world to work. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± James said simply. ¡°I think I do! But I¡¯m also worried, because you two are¡­ are new, you know? And you¡¯re both so hurt, from how awful your lives have been. And I don¡¯t know if I know you well enough, or if this would be taking advantage of you, and all of that is on top of worrying about screwing anything else up in a normal context.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not that new.¡± Keeka protested. ¡°I-I¡¯m one of the oldest of m-my kind!¡± His voice took on a wet hiss as he spoke, his teeth showing in an awkward grin. ¡°Keeka, chronologically, you and Arrush are¡­ what, three? Maybe? That¡¯s unsettling to me.¡± ¡°I know¡­¡± ¡°But you¡¯re also people. And it¡¯s confusing. Everything about our world is confusing, and now there¡¯s even more moving parts to be confused by.¡± James chuckled. ¡°You know, I was going to talk to Arrush about how I didn¡¯t want to rush into anything if he wasn¡¯t in a mentally and emotionally healthy place? I think he¡¯s been actively avoiding therapy.¡± ¡°He isn¡¯t. He just doesn¡¯t¡­ think it¡¯s¡­ critical.¡± Keeka gave a sigh, spattering a corrosive drip on his skirt. ¡°That¡¯s not good either.¡± ¡°No.¡± Keeka sighed again. ¡°Excuse doesn¡¯t¡­ work on me though.¡± He pointed out. James let out a ¡°Heh.¡± As Keeka¡¯s words. ¡°You¡¯ve got me there.¡± He admitted. ¡°We should talk more. All of us, at some point. And¡­ and we should actually spend time together. And then¡­ I dunno, then we can figure everything out as we go.¡± James realized that this wasn¡¯t exactly a ¡®plan¡¯ so much as it was deferring the problem to his future selves. ¡°Talking, though, that¡¯s important. Do you have any idea how many problems communication solves?¡± He asked rhetorically. ¡°Yes.¡± Keeka said abruptly. ¡°Most of them.¡± He looked down at his claws, rubbing them together with light scratches. James tilted his head slightly as he noticed that the claws on Keeka¡¯s fingers were visibly blunted. ¡°I like it. It is¡­ why¡­ music is so¡­ so¡­¡± He shrugged, rolling his shoulders with a creak of flexing chitin. ¡°It makes me feel.¡± Keeka tried to sum up his thoughts. James swung his legs around to sit up properly on the couch, looking down at Keeka as he latched onto the easier conversation topic. ¡°What¡¯cha been listening to, anyway?¡± ¡°L-Linkin Park.¡± Again, the space around Keeka¡¯s eyes tinged green. ¡°They¡­ they sound¡­¡± he trailed off. ¡°Like they get it, right?¡± James said softly. ¡°I actually listened to a ton of them when I was younger. And then, I sort of fell out of liking them. I thought I was growing up, but that was stupid. Went back and listened to some of their music pretty recently, after I knew what was wrong with my brain,¡± he tapped a knuckle against his skull, ¡°and yeah, it¡¯s¡­ the lyrics are so painfully relevant.¡± He thought for a second. ¡°I should loan you my Metric albums.¡± James said mostly to himself. ¡°They¡¯ve hurt too.¡± Keeka said. ¡°Can tell.¡± ¡°Oh yeah.¡± James sighed. ¡°But there¡¯s something about it. Knowing that¡­ not just knowing that someone feels like you do, but that they made art out of it. I love that. It¡¯s powerful.¡± ¡°Also the guitar!¡± Keeka excitedly hissed the words. James snapped his fingers, then decided to never do that again as he noticed Keeka¡¯s flinch. ¡°Oh! Fun fact. The guitarist actually has a twitch channel? He streams himself making new songs, it¡¯s really cool.¡± He looked over at Keeka, who had opened his mouth to say something, but then abruptly stopped and doubled over as he started coughing. ¡°Oh, hell.¡± James whispered, dropping off the couch to place a hand on the ratroach¡¯s back, trying to make sure he wasn¡¯t choking on anything. But Keeka limply pushed him back, and shook his head, eyes pressed closed in a glare. ¡°F-fine.¡± He gasped out. ¡°Breathing. Hard.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James murmured. ¡°Okay. How about¡­ how about we talk more later, okay?¡± He suggested. ¡°You can relax for a while, and catch your breath, and¡­ and we¡¯ll sort it out when you¡¯re feeling better.¡± Keeka pivoted his head to look at James, half his eyes forced open and with glistening liquid in their corners. ¡°Sss-sor-¡° ¡°Nope.¡± James cut him off again with a friendly word. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything to apologize for. Besides! This gives me a chance to freak out as I try to decide if I¡¯ve screwed everything up or not! That¡¯s valuable time right there.¡± James joked. And then, because he realized Keeka¡¯s stare was a little horrified, quickly added, ¡°That¡¯s mostly a joke. Now I¡¯m sor-¡° ¡°Noooope.¡± Keeka drew the word out and then devolved to coughing again as a laugh caught in his lungs. ¡°Alright, alright.¡± James helped him up, standing himself. He was going to get the ratroach settled on his couch, but as he did so, Keeka pressed into him, wrapping his arms around James¡¯ torso. James froze briefly, but then slowly returned the hug, placing his arms carefully on Keeka¡¯s back so as not to crush the smaller creature. ¡°Alright. You sit. And, I dunno, we¡¯ll figure out a good time to hang out later. Okay?¡± Keeka nodded eagerly as he pulled back. ¡°Hey. Thanks for talking.¡± James said with a smile, as he moved to show himself out. ¡°Oh, the door. Do you want to lock¡­ okay yep.¡± Keeka had bolted upright and was right behind James as he headed down the small hall to the apartment¡¯s front door. ¡°And now I¡¯m gonna go¡­ I dunno, do something relaxing. My legs hurt.¡± He mused as he left, the ratroach seeming fine with allowing the conversation to come to an abrupt end as he gave James one last fanged smile, and then rapidly closed and locked the door. James took a deep breath of the clean air in the spatially warped apartment complex¡¯s central hallway. That had gone better than he¡¯d expected. And he still had no idea what he was doing. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go to random Thai restaurants until I find Anesh and Alanna.¡± He decided to himself. ¡°They¡¯ll know what to¡­ mmmmh, no.¡± James gnawed at his lip as he vocalized his thoughts. ¡°No, they¡¯ll be snarky. But I do want curry now.¡± He pulled out his phone, and texted Anesh. He could put up with some snark if it meant getting curry. Especially now. He was in an unusually good mood. Chapter 219 ¡°Ah, but I am being rather impolite. I am Mathagani Ten Meti, ¡®Murder The Gods and Topple Their Thrones¡¯. I would like to tell you that I am a noodle vendor. But alas! Instead I am a student of the principle art of cutting.¡± -Kill Six Billion Demons, Wielder Of Names- _____ Being back where he used to work was surreal to James. The building was, largely, the same. But everything about it was different. And not just because he teleported in via the marked landing pad on the fourth floor. The company James used to work for, back in the before times when he didn¡¯t work for an arcane anarchist utopian collective of people who explored pockets of other dimensions and tried to save the world, hadn¡¯t so much ¡°gone out of business¡± as they had just kind of faded away. He was pretty sure there wasn¡¯t any magic nonsense at play, aside from whatever normal bureaucracy was, but it sure felt like something was going on. How, after all, could a whole corporation just kind of¡­ die quietly? The answer of course was that it happened all the time. The western world was absolutely littered with the corpses of the companies that had failed, stratified into the foundation that the survivors built on. A legacy of screw ups and timing errors and just bad luck serving as a warning and an opportunity for everyone that came after. It was grim and bleak and James was much happier with this place turning into another branch office of the Order of Endless Rooms. This place, though, was a little more organized than the chaos of the Lair. Not impersonal or sterilized, oh goodness no. There were still a half dozen living - and hopefully friendly - potted plants around the floors, amusing motivational posters stolen from the dungeon they were planted on top of - James was a big fan of the one that just said ¡°job job job¡± in massive red letters like an alarm screaming in text form - and a mundane vending machine filled with otherworldly snacks. All these little touches, though, showed a place that was becoming not only used, but lived in by the Order¡¯s members. It was alive, and vibrant, even if it didn¡¯t have as many hazardous mishaps or scrambling children as the Lair did. The larger space that used to be a production line on the ground floor was now just warehouse space they were slowly filling with stuff salvaged from the Office. The second floor was something of a cr¨¨che for new camracondas that were slowly being raised to self-awareness by their kindred. The third floor, of course, had the dungeon entrance. And as a safety precaution, they¡¯d moved most of their logistics and quartermaster stuff out to the real world, just in case the dungeon decided to blip it out of existence when they needed it most. And both that and the fourth floor held normal offices and desks where their expanding teams worked to search for other dungeons, assist survivors of traumatic events, attempt to schedule the various Order chaos, distribute cures for cancer, make professional contacts with material resource companies, and generally do all the day to day bread and butter work of a magical anarchist collective. Or whatever James had mentally called it when he got here. The building had more floors. But they didn¡¯t need them yet. It almost felt silly to have purchased a whole structure for millions of dollars that they didn¡¯t need all of, but money had become a fairly abstract thing ever since James realized they¡¯d swapped the M at the start of their bank statement for a B. So instead of feeling wasteful, it just felt like preparation for the future. It was still weird to see the old place where he dreaded showing up transformed like this. But James didn¡¯t really have time to worry about it, because he needed to get equipped, and get into the dungeon itself. And today, he and Alanna were showing a couple new people the ropes. ¡°Alright. The important thing here is that we go at a slow pace.¡± James told Ben and Bea as they stepped through the door, the two nonhuman-yet-human-looking people following him and Alanna. He and his girlfriend had their armor on like comfortable settled layers, but Bea kept shifting her shoulders like the weight bugged her, and Ben was tugging at every strap he could find. ¡°But first. Welcome to Officium Mundi.¡± He turned to face them, putting his back to the rising tower of lopsided cubicles, the grey and beige horizon that curved upward as it swept into the distance, the maze of roughly carpeted walls rife with danger and treasure alike. Ben gave it a glance, then went back to fiddling with his armor, and James shot him an exasperated look, his mouth set in a line and eyes narrowed before he remembered that Ben literally came from a place that probably looked like this all the time. Bea gave a more baseline reaction, the inhabitor craning her neck up and up and up, staring at everything with eyes that took in the scene like she was trying to drink an ocean. ¡°This has been here, the whole time?¡± She asked in the slightly vibrating voice the inhabitors used when they weren¡¯t mimicking their converted bodies. Her own natural voice. ¡°Cool, huh?¡± Alanna asked with a wide grin as she triple checked the gear she was carrying. They didn¡¯t have a clear plan, but they were here for hours yet, so they were ready for a lot. And Alanna going over their medical supplies in the little cart they were pulling behind them was a welcome buffer of comfort. ¡°Terrifying.¡± Bea said simply. ¡°All this. Lurking under the surface. A predator in the depths of reality itself.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a little dramatic.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°So, ground rules. Ben, you good?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah. Armor¡¯s just weird.¡± The friend mimic said idly as he glanced at James. James breathed out slowly through his nose. ¡°Ben¡­ do you¡­ okay, I should have asked this earlier. Do you have a physical form? No, wait, you must be a thing. I¡¯ve seen you pick stuff up. You know we can just make armor for you.¡± ¡°What? Oh, no, I can¡­ this is fine. It¡¯s just heavy.¡± Ben replied quickly. Alanna grinned wolfishly. ¡°We should get you on a workout routine. Wait, aren¡¯t you a rogue? I¡¯m positive Nate would have done this by now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m good at dodging that.¡± Ben admitted. ¡°Not anymore you¡¯re not!¡± ¡°¡­Ground rules.¡± James desperately tried to get them back on track. ¡°First, stay quiet. Noise can drive away a lot of stuff if they think it¡¯s dangerous, but sometimes it attracts swarms, and those will kill us. Second, move slow enough that you can take in details. No rushing, be on the watch for things out of place that could be traps or ambushes or even just new loot. Third, if you say the word, at all, we turn around and leave. No pushing past our limits. Fourth, no engaging in combat preemptively. We can spoil ambushes, that¡¯s fine, but no killing passive life. Communication first, always. Got it?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°No, say it again, but in your sexy leader voice.¡± The last comment was from Alanna, and James chose to ignore her. The four of them did one last check, and then roved out, in search of adventure. Taking the main corridor that the Order had more or less verified as clear of any real hazards, it took them about an hour to clear the first few kilometers. They only barely stopped to investigate desks or cubicles, adding potential magical items to their cart to check out in detail later. It was a good chance to let Bea and Ben get acquainted with the flow of exploration, but¡­ it wasn¡¯t quite the learning experience that James thought it would be. The first time a tape dispenser tried to grab Bea, shooting its highly adhesive tongue out of a dark cubby at the back of a desk, she had just yanked it forward with a single hard jerk, avoided the spatially warped ball of teeth to grab the creature around its softer center mass, and squeezed until it splattered into a sticky mess. When Ben had walked into a cubicle that had a pair of sticky note masks hanging on the rear wall, neither of them had even reacted to him, and it wasn¡¯t until he¡¯d gotten James to help him find where the password to the laptop was hidden that the creatures had jolted to life and tried to murder them. Well, murder James. They didn¡¯t seem to care Ben was there, even as he cut one of them in half. ¡°Okay.¡± James said, after they¡¯d survived a fight with a standing potted plant that spat thorns at them like bullets by just letting Ben walk up and tip it over. ¡°Clearly we need to adjust our practice run a bit.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± Alanna agreed. ¡°We can go so much farther like this! Ben, do things just not register you as hostile or some shit?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no.¡± Ben said sheepishly. ¡°Sort of. It¡¯s complicated.¡± ¡°Ben, if we leave you alone with a bunch of camracondas, will you turn into a camraconda?¡± Alanna asked, mock suspicion on her face as she crossed her arms over the rigging on her chest piece. ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± Ben said quietly. ¡°Sorta.¡± James sighed, and walked over to throw an arm around what he perceived to be Ben¡¯s shoulder but might just be a clever illusion. ¡°Stop being weird about it. No one cares you¡¯re not human.¡± He looked around the intersection they were in; a five pointed star of hallways forming an open central point in the middle of this part of the cubicle maze. Overhead, chunks of cubicle wall reached up like crooked branches, leaving plenty of space for beams of fluorescent light to strike down. ¡°Alanna¡¯s right, though. You two are dangerous. Which means we actually can go a little farther, if you¡¯re up for it.¡± ¡°I am enjoying myself.¡± Bea said with no discernible human emotion. ¡°Sure, let¡¯s do it.¡± Ben said, cracking a nervous grin. James nodded. ¡°Alright!¡± He declared. ¡°Onward! We¡¯ll make better time if we skip looting, but that¡¯s fine. Statistically, the loot really does get better when we¡¯re farther in. And at this point, we don¡¯t actually get much out of a few candy bars.¡± The group moved on. Still at a steady pace, but with a little more forward motion. Ignoring the cubicles, pushing past potential ambushes often without engaging, and with James and Alanna taking point and explaining to the other two the how and why of their movements. What¡¯s important to check, why you want someone watching upward, how to safely clear corners as a team. They didn¡¯t have a curriculum, exactly. But they¡¯d been doing this for a while, and at this point, Alanna and James were the duo who had spent the most time in this dungeon. And they¡¯d mixed conventional training on police and military tactics with augmentation from skills, and boosts from their skulljacks, potions, spells, and everything else they had to offer. So while they were a little haphazard in how they taught their new delvers, they were more than willing to share everything they knew. They took a break as the walls started to change from the carpeted cubicle panels into real plaster walls, hallways with office doors popping up out of the landscape in ways that made no architectural sense. While they took turns resting on the chairs they¡¯d dragged into a cleared cubicle with no gaps to be attacked by random staplers from, Alanna tried to strike up a conversation with Bea about why she¡¯d finally chosen to try being a delver. The inhabitor had tilted her head like she was confused by the question, and simply said that she had been helped, and wanted to help in turn. Which¡­ really, was the entire motivating ethos for the Order, distilled down to the pointed core. It was so simple James couldn¡¯t help but laugh as he heard it; not out of mockery, but out of surprise that he¡¯d never phrased it that way himself before. ¡°If you ask me that question, I¡¯m just gonna turn into a bird and escape.¡± Ben offered when Alanna turned to him. ¡°I have that power. Don¡¯t test me.¡± ¡°¡­Do you really have that power?¡± James stage whispered to the mimic. ¡°Because I would love that power. Can you share? Or, like, wanna let me be a hive mind with you while you go flying? Please?¡± Alanna tried to kick James¡¯ shins, not caring that she was out of reach on her own chair by the door to the cubicle. ¡°Hey! Sharing brains is an intimate and personal process that you do with me!¡± She protested. ¡°And Anesh. And also Anesh. And-¡° ¡°And Anesh, yes, I love you both very much.¡± James agreed. ¡°Though that said, did you guys know there¡¯s an actual hive mind in the Order? She¡¯s kinda cool, actually, and I think is way, way more into the transhumanist angle of what the skulljacks can do than we¡¯ve really touched on yet.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, Marlea, right?¡± Ben nodded. ¡°She asked if I wanted to join her. She¡¯s¡­ evangalistic?¡± ¡°Pfft.¡± Alanna made a dismissive noise. ¡°Not okay with that.¡± She said. ¡°Wait, really?¡± James looked over at her. ¡°Why not? We do that.¡± ¡°Not permanently, though. And¡­ okay, maybe I¡¯m just being biased toward what I think is normal. It¡¯s kinda scary, though, right?¡± Alanna asked, and got a couple nods in response. ¡°I mean, I like me. I don¡¯t want to be less me. But that said, I do actually love being us.¡± She nudged James with the toe of her boot, having slid closer to reach him. ¡°And it didn¡¯t weird me out when James and Simon were doing it. Maybe it¡¯s just because she¡¯s trying to convince people to join her. But that¡¯s stupid, and I should check my thoughts before I speak next.¡± Bea looked over at James, her head turning in an almost angular motion. ¡°Does she do this often?¡± The inhabitor asked. ¡°What, talk through her own learning process in real time? Yeah. I think it¡¯s cute.¡± He couldn¡¯t keep a goofy grin off his face. ¡°Anyway. You guys ready to keep moving? We should collect some more orbs for the two of you.¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± Ben¡¯s voice was confused. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ it¡¯s kind of a tradition, I guess?¡± James glanced at Alanna, and they shared a shrug. ¡°New delvers always get to use a few orbs, just to experience how chaotic and weird they can be. So far, literally everyone has had a semi-useless but very funny first skill rank.¡± Ben gnawed at his lip as he popped open one of the pouches on his armor. ¡°I thought we were supposed to save these.¡± He admitted, revealing almost two dozen collected small yellow orbs. ¡°As did I.¡± Bea made the same motion, opening up a pocket to show off a similar small treasure trove. After James finished explaining to them that they absolutely got to enjoy the magic they had worked and fought to acquire, he and Alanna made the two of them try out a few orbs before they moved on. Ben got a skill rank in Bolivian meteorology, Bea got one in Scottish government grant request bureaucracy. It was the perfect end to a short break. Especially when James took one for himself and got a skill rank in driving a combine harvester. They moved on into the changing biome of Officium Mundi. Spotting and taking alternate routes around the more and more frequent spike traps, hunkering down and staying quiet when tumblefeeds rattled past their locations, and listening to James and Alanna explain the feeling that dungeon altered items gave off. Like electrified salt, James called it, but even that wasn¡¯t really quite what it was. It was just something that buzzed in your vision when you looked at it, though it took time and practice to get good at recognizing when something stood out. They got in a fight with a stuffed shirt at one point. The thing¡¯s most human quality was its polo shirt; face a folded cardboard facsimile of humanity that was instantly recognizable as false. Their group had taken a corner at the same time that the dungeon creature had stepped out of a cubicle, and it had instantly started screeching human resources slogans at them as it tried to fling a purple orb infomorph curse at them. James had a brief moment of curiosity as to what would happen to the free floating infomorph that didn¡¯t connect with any of them, before he¡¯d finished his roll, drawn his short sword, and taken out the paper pusher in a trio of rapid cuts that converted it from an aggressor into a green orb. Then the living mail cart that they¡¯d failed to pay attention to had slammed Ben through two walls, and the fight had gotten a little chaotic. After three more additional assaults at the moment they thought they¡¯d won the field, the four delvers stood in a loose ring, weapons out, panting for breath. Well, half of them. James was pretty sure Ben didn¡¯t breathe, and Alanna was just showing off. Though Zhu had briefly manifested during the fight, and his feathered limbs were pretending to breathe heavily in solidarity with James, despite his lack of a corporeal body. James was also pretty sure that Alanna was trying to one-up Bea, who had underhand flung the group¡¯s sledgehammer straight through the side of an angry shellaxy a few minutes ago. They collected the spoils, including a half dozen purples and one massive green from the stuffed shirt, loaded the cart, and got out of there before it got worse. There had been a pair of sealed briefcases, which they did bring, but probably wouldn¡¯t open today, or anytime soon. The directions on them were just abstract enough that telepads wouldn¡¯t be a great way to find the end destinations; as it turned out, telepads just didn¡¯t work well in Officium Mundi. James suspected it was because it slyly renamed things when no one was looking, and made teleporting anywhere they hadn¡¯t explicitly marked out, like the main tower, a huge risk. But if a future delve group wanted to solve the puzzle of where ¡°the third desk after the grand array of records¡± was, and then take a new chair to its occupant, they could have the reward. The landscape moved around them as they pressed on. The team checked out a few of the offices as they passed, but quickly stopped trying to go into all of them after it became clear that almost every door had an orange totem trap on it, many of them some kind of mildly different time loop. Alanna had apparently gotten very frustrated with James after she¡¯d had to repeatedly say the phrase ¡°you are in a time loop, no it does not synerg¨ªze with your bracer, now check under the shelf next to your right foot.¡± Even though the offices had quite a few very cool bits of magic in them, they decided to just mark the zone down and keep exploring, planning to come back later with a full group to spend a lot more time on it. One of those bits of magic, which James was kinda into, was a stack of sticky notes that changed the emotion of whoever they were stuck to. It defaulted to random, apparently, but in classic Officium Mundi fashion, there was a hidden depth to it, and writing on it would let you guide the effect. James wanted to make a billion copies and use them to cure depression. Alanna wanted to lock them in a box and have a six month long ethics debate with the entire Order. They decided to compromise and just play it by ear. The real treat came when they found a break room. This time, though, it wasn¡¯t while they were in the middle of active combat, and they could take their time on it. Linoleum floors and half dimmed overhead lights gave the place the look of somewhere just before a building had really opened for the day. A scattered labyrinth of tables and chairs, dotted with explosive coffee cups, plotted the way between them and the long counter where the coffee machine, sink, and fridge were. They came to the break room through a cubicle hallway, but the two side walls were drywall, and there were splintered fingers of a ceiling that looked like a tree growing overhead that blocked out a good chunk of the light from the distant overhead fluorescents. A handful of light tubes in that semi-organic looking ceiling glowed with a soft, throbbing light, that left the place feeling like a deep woods glade. There was no back wall. Cubicle or otherwise. Instead, there was a dark expanse, on the other side of which they could see light both overhead and dotted around the cross section of the cubicle maze. Waiting by the entrance with the others watching, James had flowing a few drones out through his skulljack to get a better look, and found an impressive sight. A chasm in the dungeon, one of those canyons that were so deep none of them could see the bottom, cut through the back of the break room. Tables were pressed up right to the very edge of it, the perfectly clean cut in the floor giving them a surreal mixed vibe of stable, and right on the precipice. It seemed safe enough, so they moved in, with James guiding the two new delvers on how to disarm a coffee cup. ¡°The thing is,¡± he said, ¡°you need to cool it down, without knocking it around too much. Which is kinda hard for the ones with the lids on. You actually can just pick them up and carry them to a trash can, too, and once they¡¯re in the garbage they won¡¯t explode for some fucking reason? But dropping the temperature is the easy way.¡± He took a deep breath, filling his lungs and bracing for a chill as he called up his newest Winter¡¯s Climb spell. Reaching Frost was, pretty simply, a great way to give yourself an extra hand; in that it made a limb out of ice that you could control. It wasn¡¯t perfect, you needed to actually know how to control the limb after all, but it did allow for quite a bit of customization. And it only took a couple units of breath to last for almost half an hour; one of the more intact textbooks they¡¯d found from the Mountain. After the cold breathless feeling passed, James just used it to make a long, thin arm and hand, which he used to reach carefully over a coffee cup, and then used the nimble fingers he¡¯d made to shave off bits of their icy form into the trap. The coffee cup didn¡¯t react, until abruptly, it hissed, sputtered, and seemed to almost slump. Which was the sign it was disarmed, and there¡¯d be a red orb in the lukewarm coffee inside. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you picked that spell.¡± Alanna grumbled as she took the more traditional approach of slowly pouring from a water bottle into the trapped cups. ¡°You could have picked anything.¡± ¡°You still haven¡¯t picked anything at all! You don¡¯t get to lecture me!¡± James reminded her. ¡°You have two unused slots! At least take one thing.¡± Alanna sniffed as she fished out red orbs from the now safe table she was working on. ¡°I¡¯m waiting for one that speaks to me.¡± ¡°I wish to have the snow cat spell.¡± Bea said in her buzzing monotone as she casually picked up a coffee bomb and walked it over to the garbage can with even gliding steps. James paused, all three of his arms folding down to his sides as he looked over at the relatively new person. ¡°Oh?¡± He prompted. And then, when Bea didn¡¯t directly react to what he saw as the universal signal for ¡®please explain more¡¯, he cleared his throat and added, ¡°Please explain more?¡± ¡°I think I¡­ enjoy cats.¡± Bea paused in her speech for the first time James had heard, and he and Alanna shared a quick flickering smile and raised eyebrows before he looked back at Bea. ¡°And you tell us magic does not need to be utilitarian.¡± ¡°Well, if you enjoy it, then it does serve a utility.¡± Ben pointed out, unhelpfully. ¡°Because people matter, or so I am told.¡± He caught the incredulous stare James was pointing at him and mimed clearing his throat. ¡°That was a joke. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m kidding. Please stop acting like my disappointed dad.¡± He pled to James. James was halfway through a smirk and another disarmed coffee bomb, when his brain caught up to what Ben had said. ¡°Hey, hang on¡­¡± He muttered as he snapped off what was left of one of his ice fingers, glad that while he could feel through the spell, that the intentional dismantling of it was never painful. ¡°Ben! You asshole!¡± ¡°What?¡± Ben jumped from where he was on guard, watching the way they¡¯d come since they hadn¡¯t cleared the room enough to make it to the chasm yet. ¡°What did I do?¡± ¡°Ben you don¡¯t have parents.¡± James groused at him. ¡°Stop doing that!¡± Alanna caught what he was saying, and nearly choked on the water bottle she was taking a drink from as she tried and failed to stop a burst of laughter. Ben blinked, opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then froze. ¡°Ah.¡± He said, and his shoulders slumped. ¡°Shit, sorry.¡± He said softly, turning back to stare down the cubicle hallway. James glanced at Bea and Alanna, his partner giving him a thumbs up as the two of them got back to work clearing mines, while he turned and walked over to Ben. ¡°Hey.¡± He spoke softly. ¡°Sorry. You okay?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t even know why you¡¯re apologizing.¡± Ben said, voice tight. ¡°No, but I obviously hurt you.¡± James said. ¡°You wanna tell me what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s that you¡¯re right, I guess.¡± Ben took a breath, and wiped at his face with the back of a glove. ¡°I don¡¯t have parents, do I? I don¡¯t have a history, or a life, or anything I¡¯ve been telling people. I¡¯m entirely made up.¡± James looked down the hall in the same direction as Ben was, not making eye contact, but sharing a quiet moment. ¡°You¡¯re not.¡± He said eventually. ¡°Really!¡± He protested as Ben just rolled his eyes in a motion James caught. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you. You are the you that has been with us for the last few months. It¡¯s not a lot of history, but it¡¯s yours. I officially gift it to you.¡± He made his voice sound pointlessly regal before dropping back to a conversational tone. ¡°You¡¯ve been working with us, helping us. You trusted me, Ben. That¡¯s powerful, and that¡¯s all you.¡± He heard a wet sniffing noise, and tilted his head to see that Ben had turned to face away from him, one hand up to his eyes, wiping away tears. ¡°I¡¯d offer you a hug, but the armor sucks for that.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ben choked out a tense laugh. ¡°Also whatever my physical form is is probably spikey.¡± ¡°Oh my god, is this gonna be another thing like with El¡¯s hearts, where you just refuse to go talk to a doctor?!¡± James tried not to groan. ¡°Go to the medical wing! We¡¯ve got our own x-ray machine thing now!¡± Ben¡¯s next laugh was much more composed. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± He said. ¡°Soon as we get out of here. And I catch up with some other work.¡± ¡°¡­uh huh.¡± James was not convinced. ¡°Well, I¡¯m gonna go get rid of this arm before it melts. If I say something stupid in the future, let me know, okay? It¡¯s okay to tell me I¡¯m a dumbass. I can handle it.¡± Ben just nodded, and James backed off to give the new man some time to himself. He, Alanna, and Bea cleared the rest of the explosives scattered across the room over the next half hour or so. Not quickly, not professionally, but at a cautious pace that was as safe as they could make it. Well, for Alanna and James anyway. Bea didn¡¯t seem to understand why it might be a bad idea to pick up one of the things that could detonate and spray scalding liquid across her if she moved too fast. James wasn¡¯t sure if it was because she was armored and felt invincible inside the riot gear, or if it was that her true body was a semi-liquid blob near the brain stem of the human shell she was wearing and that wasn¡¯t exactly killable from a small shockwave and some hot coffee. Either way, if it weren¡¯t for how smoothly she moved, James would have called her reckless. As it stood, he felt like the reckless one when he accidentally broke three different red orbs, netting himself emotional resonance ranks in confusion, bitterness, and boredom. He really needed to talk to Momo at some point about what those actually did, just in case he was slowly eroding his own personality. Then, just when they thought they were in the clear, a swarm of staplers had exploded out from one of the cabinets under the counter. The older models, heavy chrome and with enough skittering pen legs they resembled centipedes. The kinda that were instantly hostile and cunningly vicious in their use of magic items against delvers. This pack had made a makeshift weapon out of a table leg, some string, and an eraser that blanked someone¡¯s memory of the last five minutes, as well as a dress shirt several of them puppeteered that repelled anything the sleeves hit with an alarming amount of force. One skirmish and several light injuries later, James learned that Bea was capable of operating her body even with a broken leg, which she claimed she could heal within half an hour, and also that he had apparently broken a yellow orb during the fight but before he got hit with the eraser stick, so he had no idea what new skill rank he¡¯d gained. He really, really hoped it wasn¡¯t a useful one; though a check of his Sewer lessons at least showed that it wasn¡¯t relevant to those. They saved a good chunk of the yellow and blue orbs they¡¯d collected, but each took a few for their own use. Alanna got a rank in yak farming, and James scored one in ceramics. Bea got the luckiest of them all, with two whole ranks in teaching. No qualifiers. Just teaching. James felt a small amount of regret that they hadn¡¯t kept that to copy, but then, they did copy hundreds of yellows to test them for useful skills, and they literally could not get them all, so there was just no helping it. Ben got a rank in marijuana use, which James thought was hilarious. Afterward, they stood at the edge of the break room, James in a crouch and leaning forward to peer into the chasm below. ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s totally more layers down there.¡± He said as he slid himself backward. Cubicle hallways compressed down by the floors on top of them, dark places where strange things they had almost no experience with hunted and grew. He and Alanna had been down there once before, and he knew it was practically packed with treasure. And that had been nearer to the entrance of the dungeon, not a dozen kilometers deep into it like they were now. Still, none of them wanted to press their luck. Instead, they planned to call this a good point to turn around, steal the coffee machine, reorganize their cart without disturbing the somewhat skittish but otherwise friendly stapler that had decided to hide in their cargo, and then head back, taking more time to poke their noses into places on the way until they ran low on time. ¡°Wanna bet on what that one makes?¡± Alanna asked as James carefully unplugged the coffee machine. ¡°Coffee.¡± Bea said instantly. Alanna pressed her eyes closed. ¡°N¡­no.¡± She sighed. ¡°I mean, what magical effect will that coffee have? It¡¯s basically potions for this dungeon, after all.¡± ¡°Honestly, I dunno. It doesn¡¯t feel like how James described magic items.¡± Ben said, helping James to pull the cords out from behind the cabinet. ¡°Still worth checking, but really, the table feels more magical than this thing.¡± ¡°The what now?¡± Alanna¡¯s eyebrows went up. Ben pointed, and James actually twisted an arm around to point with him, the two of them singling out one of the break room tables. The furniture around the break rooms was usually pretty uniform, but this one had a mixed style, and the table they were pointing at was a rounded tan square of polished wood with a single heavy metal pole in the middle that led down to a clawed base. It was slightly tilted, had some scratches in the surface, and just kind of looked like a table that had been in use for a while. ¡°The table I told everyone not to touch, earlier.¡± James said. ¡°Because it¡¯s practically vibrating. Alanna, do you not feel that?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± His girlfriend edged closer, and reached out to poke the table. ¡°Huh. Weird.¡± ¡°Oh my god, I just said not to touch it.¡± James rolled his eyes as he tried to politely move the stapler in their cart so he and Ben could set the coffee machine into a rectangular space they¡¯d attempted to clear. ¡°Okay, so, touching it is safe, I guess?¡± He said as Alanna kept poking it. ¡°You¡¯d think you¡¯d have learned to not fuck with new magic by now.¡± James¡¯ voice actually was sorta annoyed, because this was more reckless than Alanna should have been. ¡°I¡¯ve stopped pointing anything at anyone, I think that¡¯s a step in the right direction.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Also, so far, none of the magic can actively hurt us, right? So this is kinda just how we test a lot of stuff. And I¡¯m not hauling a table back if-¡° ¡°-it doesn¡¯t do anyyyyyy what the fuck.¡± James¡¯ voice picked up where Alanna had left off the instant he cautiously stepped up next to her and poked the table. Both of them recoiled, staring down at their hands, heads whipping around. Behind them, Ben appeared almost instantly. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± He sounded tense, but ready to act at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± ¡°Holy shit, I¡¯m tall.¡± James said. With Alanna¡¯s voice. Looking through Alanna¡¯s eyes. ¡°You know, this is less disorienting than it probably could have been, since we do this a lot, but wow, you¡¯re actually really tall when you¡¯re standing up and wearing boots.¡± ¡°Oh fuck me, it¡¯s a table that - Ben don¡¯t touch that - it¡¯s a table that swaps bodies.¡± Alanna¡¯s cadence came out of James¡¯ mouth. ¡°Okay, okay. This is fine. James, you¡­ that is you, right?¡± She looked up at her own body, which¡­ didn¡¯t quite look like her. The face she saw in the mirror was hers, but now it wore an expression that was more James¡¯ than her own normal look, and it was a subtle and weird difference to see. ¡°Yeah, this is me.¡± James said, voice coming out in a lower pitch than Alanna normally used. ¡°Okay. Before we try to put the table in the cart and this happens again, let¡¯s make sure we can swap back, yeah?¡± He leaned forward, and tapped Alanna¡¯s fingertips onto the wood. Alanna resisted the urge to start furiously scratching at her new back, where James¡¯ ponytail was currently being the most irritating thing on the planet rubbing against her borrowed skin. ¡°Please.¡± She said. ¡°Your body is weird.¡± And reached out to do the same. There was a moment¡¯s pause this time, but then, with absolutely no fanfare or indication, they were snapped back into their native bodies. ¡°Okay!¡± James said with his own voice. ¡°That¡¯s weird! Wait, touch it again! I think it¡¯s on a cooldown and I wanna test that!¡± Alanna did so, smirking at him now that she knew the effects were easily reversible. ¡°You know, you talk like that, and I¡¯m gonna think you like being inside me.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t make it weird.¡± James said, both of them holding their hands on the table. Then he paused. ¡°Actually, do make it weird. That¡¯s more fun.¡± ¡°Please stop flirting.¡± Bea said in her dull voice. ¡°Let us know when you switch again, so we know how long we have to move the table. I do not wish to test what this would do to anyone switching with me.¡± Ben cleared his throat. ¡°Um¡­ is this a mind control thing? Or is there a reason we¡¯re just assuming we¡¯re taking the table?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a table that swaps bodies, Ben.¡± James said, like that explained anything. ¡°We can find a use for a table that swaps bodies.¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± ¡°And at the very least, it¡¯s-¡° James started ¡°-a great opportunity for us to explore what it feels like to literally be someone else.¡± He finished with Alanna¡¯s voice. ¡°Okay, about a minute and a half? Let¡¯s get this loaded. I¡¯ll grab the¡­ uh¡­ whole thing. Since I guess Alanna you can just pick things up, holy shit your arms are so fucking strong, what is this?¡± Alanna nodded James¡¯ head rapidly. ¡°And that¡¯s with my purple orb enhancements moved over to this body! Kinda cool, huh? You wanna start coming to the gym with me yet?¡± She paused. ¡°Wait, shit, you know what? I could take this body to the gym. Like a project car! Only for weight training! Oh man, this is gonna be a whole thing, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Bea said, pushing back one of their duffel bags to let James settle the table into their cargo cart, the brave little hand cart barely holding up under the weight. ¡°It will change things. Again.¡± Bea sounded the closest to amused that she ever had as she pressed some of the heavier objects they¡¯d taken to the foot of the table to keep it in place. ¡°Are we done now?¡± She asked. ¡°Well, Alanna and I need to swap back, unless she¡¯s okay with this.¡± James said, staring at his hands as he flicked Alanna¡¯s fingers and felt the difference in how her muscles and ligaments felt compared to his own. ¡°Also wow, holy shit, you were not kidding about the armor being uncomfortable on your breasts. This is with the custom stuff? Jesus.¡± James started pulling at one of the armor straps. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t fuck with that!¡± Alanna demanded, pointing James¡¯ hand accusingly. ¡°That takes time to settle into something workable! Okay, we¡¯re swapping back now before you screw it up.¡± She slapped his hand onto the table in the cart, and with an expulsive huff of breath, James did the same, putting them back where they had started. He was still grinning though. ¡°I like this.¡± He said to Ben. ¡°You wanna go next?¡± ¡°With¡­ you? No thanks.¡± Ben said, as they started to make sure the cart would roll, put their guard back up, and made ready to begin the long hike back. James blinked. ¡°Wait, hang on. I expected you to say something about species difference, but that sounds like you just don¡¯t wanna be in my body. What¡¯s wrong with my body?!¡± He leaned back in a faux dramatic swoon to look at Alanna. ¡°Alanna, what¡¯s wrong with my body?¡± James lamented. ¡°You¡¯re all squishy and stuff, and your socks are weird.¡± She answered instantly. ¡°Now let¡¯s get moving. We can stop by one of the towers on the way back and stock up on ritual coffee. I think Reed wanted to try copying an email server or something, and I don¡¯t want it putting a dent in our anti-cancer project.¡± James nodded, planning to ask a lot of questions about that later, and led the way out, with Bea moving with him in a perfect imitation of what she¡¯d seen Alanna doing earlier.. Alanna pulled the cart in the middle of their formation, their new stapler friend riding on it like it was a luxury cruise. And Ben brought up the rear, mimicked human eyes flicking across the endless walls and gaps, watchful for any sign of trouble. They ran into some more trouble on the way back. But nothing they couldn¡¯t handle. ______ As it turned out, winter in northern small town Texas was still cold and wet. James wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled with the revelation that he¡¯d have to wade through puddles and brave gusts of wind that threatened to match what he had to deal with on Winter¡¯s Climb, just to get back to the library. The library was closed, because it was one AM. The library also had a door open, because Vad was lurking around to let James back in. James was outside of the library because whatever his schedule even was at this point, he actually needed to eat sometimes, and there was a 24/7 fried chicken place two blocks away, which was almost worth the fact that his socks were going to be soggy for a whole dungeon delve. ¡°It¡¯s still so surreal to me.¡± Vad said as he followed James up the library¡¯s dark central staircase to where they were waiting for the door to open, the small group listening to the wind spattering rain against the tall pane glass windows of the building¡¯s possibly-fictional second floor. ¡°The dungeon?¡± James asked as he reclaimed his well-worn public library chair, and pulled a box of cajun fries out of the somewhat damp bag he was carrying for Momo, and then an oversized cookie for Thought-Of-Quiet. ¡°Isn¡¯t this¡­ you go in way more often than I do, man. You should have mastered it by now.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not even close to reasonable. But also no, I mean¡­ well, actually, kind of about that?¡± Vad paused, folding his arms in the long sleeves of his bright green college hoodie, trying not to shiver. ¡°You just went out for chicken, and we¡¯ve got¡­ ten minutes before we do the whole risking our lives thing again. Who does that?¡± Momo looked up with a bleary eyed expression. ¡°I do that.¡± She admitted around a mouthful of potatoes. ¡°But not this time because James brought me breakfast.¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯m making you eat a salad if we don¡¯t die in the next few hours.¡± James glared at her. ¡°That!¡± Vad reclaimed the flow of the conversation. ¡°That, right there! Okay, so, you got me on board with the adventure and the danger and the magic, sure, I get it. But you¡¯re just so relaxed minutes before it all starts!¡± ¡°It helps that there¡¯s no audience for me to tense up in front of. And¡­ I guess I¡¯ve done this enough, it¡¯s becoming easier. Not routine, don¡¯t give me that look. I just know what I¡¯m supposed to be doing, so my anxiety has less to latch onto.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Also Momo being a little gremlin who doesn¡¯t sleep and is in a constant worrying state of self destruction is just¡­ a thing you get used to. Along with making her drink water.¡± ¡°Mmmmmrgh.¡± Momo muttered from where she¡¯d buried her head in her arms, occasionally snaking out a hand to drag a fry back into her nap zone. She¡¯d gotten through all the good soft fries though, and was down to the small bits that got too crispy, but she wasn¡¯t about to declare breakfast over just yet. From under the table, Thought-Of-Quiet spoke up in his digital voice. ¡°I find it easy to stay calm, because nothing can be as bad as the worst thing that has happened.¡± ¡°Wait, really?¡± James slid out of his chair to drop heavily to the floor, leaning his back against a table leg as he looked at the camraconda. ¡°That¡¯s the opposite of how trauma normally works for humans.¡± ¡°No, not really.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said sadly as he twisted his neck to look up at James from whatever heavy book he had open to read from off the floor. ¡°Everything is terrifying. So I am making inept jokes to deflect from that.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, that I understand.¡± He said. And then, slightly softer, added ¡°Do you need a hug? It¡¯s not the best time since I¡¯m wearing damp Kevlar, but¡­¡± Thought-Of-Quiet let out a string of rapid short hisses, something that James thought might have been a laugh. ¡°Later. When you are not damp.¡± He said. ¡°Time?¡± Before James could check his watch, Vad¡¯s voice came from overhead. ¡°Two minutes. We should get ready. And¡­ uh¡­ wake up Momo?¡± ¡°Fool. I¡¯m already prepared.¡± Momo¡¯s voice sounded about as imperious as someone who¡¯d just forced themselves awake from a nap possibly could sound. The way she seemed to sway on her feet, or the fact that James noticed that she seemed to be missing her sidearm, did not reassure him that she had been telling the truth when she said she was up for this. ¡°Momo¡­¡± James started in a worried voice. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Don¡¯t at me.¡± Momo huffed. ¡°Vad, TQ, you guys ready?¡± ¡°I like that name.¡± Thought-Of-Quiet said as he slithered out from under the communal study table, taking stock of the mechanical arms he had equipped one by one in a precise test pattern. ¡°James, will you call me that now?¡± The camraconda¡¯s digital voice sounded almost apprehensive. James gave a smiling nod. ¡°Sure! But also, we need to get going or we¡¯ll miss the window. Vad, you good?¡± Vad was already standing by the heavy stairwell door, counting down the seconds on his smartwatch until the exact moment that he could reach down, turn the metal handle with a ratcheting chunk noise, and pull the door open. ¡°Vad¡¯s good.¡± James nodded. ¡°See, this is how you get used to it.¡± He patted Vad on the shoulder as he walked past and into the outer edge of the seemingly infinite rows of shelves and stacks. As he passed, Zhu begin to unfurl a feathered shadow over his arm, forming into another limb and a long tail, the navigator also getting in on the action of patting Vad on the shoulder reassuringly. It felt simple to him, in that moment. You got excited about the possibilities, about the future, about yourself. You didn¡¯t ever let it become boring. And, he thought, as he waited for the others to fan out behind him as they started checking the aisles to figure out which gap between the shelves would be safest, you maybe didn¡¯t eat fried chicken before a delve. That might have been an error on his part. Vad might be unintentionally correct. Eventually they started moving through the shelves. Because so far, no one had been able to figure out if any of the outer rows of shelves were safe. There didn¡¯t seem to be a pattern to it, except that literally every one of these long and narrow corridors that led from the outer walls near the entrance to the true expanse of the Ceaseless Stacks was home to a lot of angry books. ¡°We doing the thing?¡± Momo asked as she and James took point, the orange glow of Zhu¡¯s form making the otherwise dimly lit area a little clearer to see. ¡°Yes, but quietly.¡± He said back. ¡°No yelling. Both because this is a library, and because it will give me a headache after I do my side of it.¡± Vad and TQ hung back as James and Momo stepped past the first couple sections of shelf, James keeping alert while Momo seemed to be softly humming to herself with her eyes closed, like she was trying to take a nap mid-dungeon. He waited until a nearby book made its move; a wet pop sounding as the spine of the paperback opened into a bulbous eye that swiveled to focus on the two of them. ¡°Hey.¡± James said, making eye contact with it. ¡°We¡¯re going through here. We don¡¯t want a fight, so stay on your shelf, and we¡¯re good, okay?¡± The book paused, eye locking onto James like it was considering the offer. Or so James hoped, anyway. It might very well have just been thinking that he and Momo must be the dumbest humans in existence. But James didn¡¯t flinch away, even when the book split its lower half into a fanged maw and lunged at him. TQ caught it with his natural camraconda power, stopping the book in the air where James took it apart with a few strikes of his hatchet before they both let it drop, James snagging the orb out of the air. ¡°Alright!¡± He said a little louder. ¡°Let¡¯s try again!¡± He dipped into the back of his mind, where some of his magic resided. Magic was weird, he¡¯d already decided; it lived in different parts of a person. The Climb spells lived around his lungs, the Horizon¡¯s were in his chest in the abstract, but Officium Mundi? Well, it didn¡¯t really give out spells normally. You had to sneak around to the solution to absorbing blues, and when you did, they were just sort of something you had to know you could do. So James thought of them as being in the back of his mind. He had two, his own personal limit. One was always going to be Manipulate Asphalt, because that was both too useful and very renewable. The other one, the new one he had now, was Remove Text. Which was, if he was being honest, kind of hard to find a use for. Oh, it was a convenient eraser, and great for practical jokes or just blipping out the worse examples of advertising billboards. But James had to find a way to get through a lot of charges before he could try for something more flexible. Right now, though, he had a thought on what it might allow him to do. Because ¡®text¡¯ was one of those words that meant multiple things, and he was pretty sure that if he pushed, and burned more than a couple charges back to back, he could make their entrance a lot more convenient. After all, a book was a text. Though, he¡¯d be the first to admit, a living toothy monster book wasn¡¯t exactly. But that¡¯s fine, that¡¯s what Momo was for. The first use swept a shelf clean. The second kept going, leaving behind fluttering bookmarks and library slips on the quickly emptying shelves. James focused his attention through the spike of pain that threatened to intrude on his right eye, wincing as he triggered the ability two more times, sweeping it over the whole aisle. And leaving behind about thirty books. Well, ¡®books¡¯. Devoid of their camouflage, all of them instantly cracked open wet eyes and toothy pages, tongues that lashed out like prehensile bookmarks, and angry hisses. ¡°We¡¯re gonna come through here!¡± James spoke clearly, but not loudly, working hard to keep the wince of pain from overusing a blue out of his voice. ¡°And we know you¡¯re here, and don¡¯t need to- aw fuck, Momo!¡± The last words came out in a rush as the remaining living tomes started crawling along the barren shelves toward them in a scratching wave of living paper. Momo had something like five or six absorbed blues, because Momo was just worryingly good at altering her mindset to work with magic. One of them, which she¡¯d refreshed since the last time she was here, was Liquify Paper. She threw out the spell, her mind thinking of of invisible whips carving through the shelves, her arms stretched out, hands dancing in rapid motions as she guided her magic. It was easy for her, when she could see what she was doing and there wasn¡¯t a fight happening all around her. It took one cast and eight seconds for her to reduce three dozen hostile monsters from threats to splatters. Their pages turned to a beige goo that dripped down the shelves, halves of books that had been cut through landing on the floor with wet splats as the orbs they dropped on death rolled down to stick in the melted remains of their previous owners. ¡°Idiots.¡± Momo muttered, lowering her hands. ¡°Now that. That sounded suitably imperious.¡± James told her. Momo¡¯s expression cracked into a confused and tired mess, and suddenly she wasn¡¯t a dangerous witch standing on a battlefield, she was just a mid twenties girl who didn¡¯t know how to tighten her armor straps. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± James said with a smile. ¡°Let¡¯s make Vad get the orbs.¡± He added as he started to stride forward. Vad wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled to be the one to grab the orbs out of puddles of book goop, but the promise of the magic was appealing enough that he didn¡¯t complain. TQ complained, though, when the camraconda had to slither through the cleared area and got smears of liquified paper on the plates of his custom armor. The group split the orbs when they made it through to the first landing, on the grounds that they didn¡¯t really have a pressing reason to be copying these, and that there was always a chance that someone could find an alternate use for them like with the Office¡¯s yellows. [+1 Species Rank : Bear - Brown - North American] [+1 Species Rank : Frog] ¡°I¡­ did not know these could do that.¡± James said as he processed the alien thoughts running through his mind. ¡°What?¡± Momo asked. ¡°Ignore taxonomic classifications?¡± Vad shook his head at her. ¡°None of these have ever actually followed conventional taxonomy. I checked. And I think the server you guys have is up to date on the list of tests.¡± ¡°I have a rank in zebras.¡± TQ said, looking up at James with an irising camera eye. ¡°Are zebras not horses?¡± ¡°No, but also sort of, but also we can talk about zebras later.¡± James said. ¡°Does this place look different to anyone? Also, check, does anyone hear singing? Before we run into another librarian.¡± Everyone shook their heads on hearing anything. The space was a circular zone of cracked and worn unpolished wooden floorboards, with a semicircle of a tall desk covering the space between the two staircases ahead of them that led up or down depending on what side you picked. A wide square table sat in the middle, with a display of laminated books on it presented to anyone passing by, and a few deep lounge chairs lined the outsides, their backs against the shelves, with the occasional brass standing lamp between them where there was space. James split off with TQ to check out the information desk, the camraconda rising up to his full height to help sweep the surface, with James deliberately checking every visible pile of books before the two of them circled around to get through the wooden swinging door and start actually going through the space properly. Momo, meanwhile, was getting absorbed in the covers and titles of the books on display, while Vad finished a visual check of the perimeter to make sure nothing was sneaking up on them, before he got distracted looking at something. James glanced over while his camraconda friend was trying to find the anything resembling a password to the weird boxy computer they were looking at, to see Vad standing in the center of the landing, staring upward. He was going to ask why, but then just decided to look up himself and risk falling victim to a bad practical joke. Overhead, the painted metal of the shelves around them rose up, and up, and up. Well past where the shelves themselves stopped, the metal pieces thinning out, turning into long bony fingers of material that came together in a design that hung over the center of the landing. James blinked as he realized that what he¡¯d thought was a domed skylight was actually just an optical illusion; there was nothing overhead except the strange circular diagram formed by the confluence of the shelves, a ring of dark metal that insinuated the idea of glass and an outside, but never delivered on that promise. Which made sense; there was a staircase that went up, maybe ten feet away from him. ¡°Is this a password?¡± The camraconda voice brought James¡¯ vision back down to where his search partner had two of his mechanical limbs holding a palm sized black leather notebook open in front of his eye. He turned it as James looked over to show something that looked like a jumble of letters and numbers divided into columns. ¡°¡­What?¡± James asked. ¡°TQ, I still have a headache from vaporizing a bunch of innocent books, and my skill ranks are in encryption, not code breaking, which I guess matters. How is that a password to this?¡± He held out an upturned palm toward the computer they were trying to access. The computers here were weird to him, and he absolutely planned to steal this one, since apparently the library dungeon reset or rearranged itself regularly. It was a cube of a monitor; actually a perfect cube or something close to it. It was sitting on top of a flat rectangle with a series of slots in its front and an indented power button, both devices the color of old grocery store shelving. And while the monitor and the thing that was the processor were obviously working together, they weren¡¯t connected. In any way. James could, and in fact had, picked up the monitor and moved it five feet to the side, and it was still doing its job. He wanted this technology. Even if it would take a lot of bizarre magic to make it useful on a large scale. Right now, though, he wanted to focus on his friend¡¯s explanation. ¡°These columns represent a partial cypher for a substitution code. The other half might be somewhere, but it is meaningless. If the numbers written on the device is the passcode, and we assume it is a real word, then it is either ¡®steal¡¯ or ¡®steam¡¯. No other missing letters make words. I think.¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯m really fuckin¡¯ glad everyone I¡¯m friends with is smarter than me.¡± James said, the comment said with a grin and making the camraconda¡¯s eye rapidly refocus as TQ dipped his sinuous neck down. James leaned back to the keyboard - also not tethered to anything - and tapped in the first option. When that didn¡¯t work, he tried the second, and nodded with raised eyebrows as the screen accepted it and switched to a new view. ¡°Nice!¡± He said. ¡°Looks like this place likes it¡¯s puzzles.¡± ¡°That is fitting. I also enjoy puzzles.¡± The camraconda hissed with satisfaction. ¡°Also, quick check,¡± James said as he tapped the arrow keys on the keyboard to navigate around the screen that looked like an alternate reality version of an ancient iMac OS, ¡°TQ? You wanna try that out?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The camraconda answered instantly. ¡°It feels¡­ no. That is it. It feels. At all.¡± ¡°You really didn¡¯t like your name.¡± James said sadly, glancing down from the cube of a screen. TQ whipped his head back and forth in a dramatic serpentine denial. ¡°I chose it because it seemed important to everyone else. I don¡¯t¡­ want it.¡± ¡°I getcha. TQ it is, then. Until you decide if you want to keep it or try something new.¡± James was cut off from his conversation as Zhu perked up around him the instant he pressed one of the heavy keys and opened a folder on the screen. ¡°That!¡± The navigator spoke like gravel under tires. ¡°Click that one!¡± Obliging, James did so, shifting slightly to let TQ get a good view of the screen too. ¡°Oh huh, lookit that.¡± He mused as the screen changed to a pattern of black lines. He wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d just opened a program of a file or some weird other designation for a data packet, but it was quickly obvious what he¡¯d found. Zhu¡¯s feathered arm split off from his own, tracing a line over the screen until he tapped on a circular spot in the top left. ¡°You sure?¡± James asked, and Zhu cracked an eye open on his shoulder just to roll it at James. ¡°Alright. So, that¡¯s us. And this is a map.¡± ¡°A map that we can carry with us.¡± TQ said. ¡°Because nothing stops us from doing that.¡± ¡°Something does stop me from actually enjoying this, though.¡± James said, ducking his head down to look underneath the tall desk¡¯s overhanging surface. Papers, stacks of library cards, an ink pot, a bright red leather purse, a whole bunch of stuff, but not what he was looking for. ¡°Okay,¡± he rose back up, ¡°see this icon? This is similar to an old computer icon I¡¯ve seen before. This is a click and drag image, or program, or whatever. But there¡¯s no mouse around here, and the keyboard¡­¡± he made a few loud clacks as he tested the arrows, ¡°yeah, this doesn¡¯t work. Anyone see one?¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. None of them did. And then Momo and Vad rejoined them, Momo dropping a book with a laminated cover onto the desk in front of James and watching his reaction as he read the title of ¡®Barbarian Elk Pounding¡¯. He wanted to laugh, but didn¡¯t want to give her the satisfaction, but he was also pretty sure his facade cracked when he tried to stare at her. The two were quickly enlisted into the search for a mouse, which turned up nothing. Still, they¡¯d brought a folding cart for exploration, and while James had figured it¡¯d be a while before they needed it, now was as good a time to open it up as any. They loaded the whole computer into it, all the parts they had, along with all the extra orbs they hadn¡¯t cracked. And then, on Zhu¡¯s request, they started trying to figure out what direction they needed to go to get to the tiny box of empty space that didn¡¯t seem to have a clear path to it. ¡°Okay, so¡­ we¡¯re here. And that¡¯s the desk. So that way is left from here.¡± Momo said, pointing past one of the lamps and into the shelves. ¡°Right?¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s left, but yes.¡± Vad answered, and James instantly notched up how much he liked the guy in his mental list of people. ¡°Do we just go?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got telepads for leaving. And a map to get us back.¡± James said. They¡¯d decided not to test how far the monitor could get from the base this time; that was for Research to figure out later when it wasn¡¯t relevant to them getting out of the dungeon. So they did. They just went. Chose a row of shelves, and started walking. Unlike the heavily guarded shelves that cut the entrance off from the rest of the dungeon, nothing immediately attacked them as they walked through the tight space. It was just barely wide enough for the cart, light like the glow of lamps coming from nowhere in particular, and more light cast like beams of sunlight through windows lighting up bits of the floor until they got there and found that there were no windows anywhere to be seen. Books with nonsense titles and meaningless covers were everywhere. James had an urge to just stop and spend an hour or two searching them, looking for the funniest tidbits, or maybe hoping for a text that actually had something useful to say in it. But while they weren¡¯t exactly on the clock, they also weren¡¯t here just to amuse him, and so he had to settle for stealing glances and not finding anything that wasn¡¯t word salad. They stopped at an intersection, where the dented and chipped paint of the metal shelves they were snuggled between met an aisle where the racks were replaced by a dark paneled wood. Like a library from another era had briefly crossed though where they were walking, complete with the flickering light of an oil lamp from just around the corner, even if there was no real fire casting the light. The corners of the shelves didn¡¯t fit against each other so much as they blended; matte metal and varnished wood fading into each other so gradually that if James hadn¡¯t been paying attention he might not have noticed the shift at all. But they were all paying attention. Which was why Momo notice the line of blue ink moving in a constantly shifting triangle, just below eye level on one of the shelves. Well, below eye level for James. Above it for TQ. Exactly where Momo tended to look at things. ¡°Did we ever figure out what these do?¡± She asked. Vad frowned. ¡°No. But I have two of them on me, which is hard to explain to anyone who sees me naked since they don¡¯t stop moving. I got one for ¡®soar¡¯ when I came in here with Alex and her friend last week. They don¡¯t¡­ seem to be for doing magic? Yish, that¡¯s such a weird sentence.¡± ¡°You¡¯re in a dungeon, deal with it.¡± Momo tilted her head to read one of the angled lines of the repeated word. ¡°Tirano. Spanish, tyrant.¡± She stated, and the words stilled, then snapped onto the closest part of her to where they were written, the triangle of blue ink returned to rotating in place on her collarbone. ¡°Okay, weird. Three uses of it, but no idea what that means. Do I just yell the word?¡± ¡°¡­no.¡± Vad said, looking away and pretending he was watching for danger. ¡°Because?¡± James prompted with a smile. ¡°It doesn¡¯t work.¡± Vad said flatly. James nodded. ¡°To be fair, I also tried yelling the word ¡®hedgehog¡¯ after my first orb here, just to see if it did anything.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t work either.¡± Vad¡¯s neck and cheeks flushed red like a spreading wine stain. They moved on. The dungeon was quiet, which James had sort of mentally expected from a library, but it was quiet in a way that instilled a kind of creeping worry into everyone walking through it. Every footstep sounded too loud on the hard green carpet, every rustle and tap of their gear seemed to echo for miles. There was no air flow, no distant hum of machinery, no movement around them, nothing. Even the flickering of out of sight lights was silent. When there were enemies as they passed, they struck without warning. The books that attacked them didn¡¯t actually get any more dangerous, but the nature of the attacks changed. There were no more stacks of certain combat, followed by relatively safe zones. Instead, any of the shelves could hold one or two of the creatures, who would ambush them at random. Never enough to overwhelm, but a single bad bite could be enough, especially with the fact that the books all did seem to be venomous. James was still set to a fairly good chunk of venom immunity, but he was the only one. The orbs from the books went in the cart. Momo informed them that she¡¯d decided that next time they needed to bring a bucket for this. Frequently, they would check the map they had. Zhu claimed that he had it memorized, and James claimed that learning how to read it and knowing where they were in case the navigator got knocked out was important. Also, he really did just have a lot of questions about where they were. It seemed like the floor was almost entirely row after row of shelves, with barely any interruptions. Small spaces that could have been reading rooms or sitting areas, or maybe just old card catalogs or inventory computers. They got near one of them, and half their group heard a quiet, lilting, humming. They avoided that one, slipping back into the stacks and putting distance between themselves and the thing that they just didn¡¯t want to fight today. James was pretty sure he could handle it. But it wasn¡¯t worth the risk with this small group. They were here to find some cool magic, not to get into life or death fights. A dozen shelves later, the titles of the books were starting to wear on some of them. Vad caught a glimpse of one of the roaming cat creatures, the lynx like form made up of yellowed pages and folded newsprint. It hadn¡¯t even looked at them, and they hadn¡¯t chased it as it seemed to splash through a stack of loose books like the paper was water. They moved quieter, though, because James wanted to try to snag the next one. It didn¡¯t seem like they¡¯d have much luck, until they were only a few short rows away from where they were going, and Momo had frozen as she started to step around a corner. One hand held out behind her, her whole body going still as she slowly, painfully slowly, eased back, making as little noise as possible. She pointed at TQ and tired to make a hand sign that she probably thought meant cat. The camraconda had gotten the meaning, though both he and James shared a look that said that they needed to get Momo a sign language orb. Then he¡¯d slipped around the corner, and before the noise of his shifting on the floor could startle the catalog, grabbed the angular paper feline in his gaze. James stepped around as the camraconda motioned with one of his mechanical arms. ¡°Hey.¡± He gently spoke to the catalog, the creature only half facing them. Moving against the shelves, trusting the two people behind him to yell if any of the books came alive, James got into full view of the paper lynx, and knelt down. ¡°We¡¯re going to let you go now. But before you run, I¡¯m looking for something. Where can I find a skill orb that isn¡¯t a species rank?¡± He raised a hand, and TQ released the creature, which jerked as the motion it was trying to make was finally allowed and the extra force it was pushing through its body snapped it sideways. It looked like it was about to bolt, but it paused, to make eye contact with James. And then it spoke, without opening its mouth. A woman¡¯s voice, warm and kind even if the words were economical. The kind of voice James remembered from a librarian as a kid that used to call him ¡®honey¡¯ all the time. ¡°Up two floors, take a left, then the third right path once past the midnight countess, find a lake.¡± The cat says. And then, before it sprang away, it paused, looking like it wanted to add something. But not further words came, and its paper paws took it sideways, tunneling through a shelf like the books on it weren¡¯t even there. ¡°I¡¯m fucking shocked that worked.¡± Momo told him when he came back. ¡°Zhu couldn¡¯t find another orb type. Why does your plan get to work?¡± ¡°Orbs aren¡¯t a place Momo.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers slumped around James as he pouted. James decided not to get involved in that argument, instead just wiping his gloved hands on his legs before readjusting his grip on his hatchet. ¡°It was a random guess, honestly.¡± James said. ¡°But hey, it worked! And we have another proper noun to deal with!¡± ¡°Another?¡± Vad asked with narrowed eyes. ¡°Oh, yeah, dude.¡± James sighed. ¡°You asked why I was so relaxed about the dungeons? Well, here¡¯s a potential reason. Let me tell you about pillars.¡± As they carefully shifted their group in single file around a towering stack of paperbacks that loomed overhead, James filled Vad in on what had been going on outside of the world of the Ceaseless Stacks. The events in New York and Alaska, the whole ¡®pillars¡¯ thing, the vaguely threatening meeting from a mercenary ops leader, their contact with the FBI, all of it. He wrapped up quickly as they came to a T-intersection, and TQ pointed out that their map said this was where they were looking for; past that barrier of shelves ahead of them, there was a gap of space with no charted way in. Stopping about ten feet back from the change in direction, they took some time to grab sips of water, and Vad took the opportunity to carefully nod, stare at James, and ask, ¡°What the fuck is wrong with your life?¡± ¡°Lots of things!¡± Momo cut in, her sleepy energy from earlier completely reversed by her time hiking through the library dungeon. She twisted the cap back onto the water bottle she was holding and flipped it into the cart with a thump of crinkling cheap plastic. ¡°James doesn¡¯t like to acknowledge how many people might want to kill us.¡± ¡°Okay, hang on.¡± James frowned, actually a little offended. ¡°That¡¯s not true! We¡¯re taking action to remove ourselves from the sights of half the people that might try to kill us, and our intelligence branch is switching to proactive security measures around common Order locations! We¡¯re not¡­ like¡­ all wearing shield bracers all the time, but we¡¯re not just ignoring it.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Vad asked. ¡°Why what?¡± ¡°Why aren¡¯t you wearing shield bracers all the time. You gave me one, and I wear it all the time.¡± ¡°¡­What, even outside the library?¡± ¡°Are you kidding?¡± Vad¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°That¡¯s the best place to wear it. I set it to vehicle impact every time I walk to work. Half this state drives pickup trucks, and the rest of them don¡¯t know how to drive much better, and that¡¯s terrifying.¡± James snorted a laugh, while TQ tilted his head at Vad. ¡°Why pickup trucks? The ones with the cargo bed, yes?¡± ¡°Every time someone almost runs me over, it¡¯s a pickup truck.¡± Vad said. ¡°Why do they keep making them?¡± TQ asked. James tapped a hand on the camraconda¡¯s head. ¡°That¡¯s how I feel about most cars.¡± He said. ¡°This is also not the argument for now.¡± ¡°No,¡± Vad said, ¡°we should be asking what pillars are, and why you made them mad. Also¡­ shouldn¡¯t you have told me that something you call the Old Gun lived in my state?¡± ¡°To be fair, we¡­¡± James paused, glancing upward as he heard a distant rustle of paper. ¡°Okay, no, sorry.¡± He sighed. ¡°Yeah, I assumed you would have known, because it¡¯s in the ops manual, but¡­ yeah. There¡¯s a ton of relevant information now, and we need to get better at actual direct briefings. So, I¡¯m sorry.¡± He looked Vad in the eye. ¡°Actually.¡± Vad frowned, but still tipped his head in reply. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± He said in reply. ¡°What is a pillar anyway?¡± ¡°We have no idea! It¡¯s a new term to us, but I guess it¡¯s what they call themselves.¡± Momo grinned. ¡°Isn¡¯t it exciting?¡± ¡°They¡¯re dangerous, we know.¡± TQ added. James nodded. ¡°Pretty much that.¡± He said. ¡°They¡¯re hard to not notice though. Like, the three of them that we¡¯ve seen have all been¡­ in flux, maybe? They look like a ton of different iterations of a person all the time. Which is actually hard for most people to see.¡± ¡°Okay, so, not like¡­ the normal shapeshifters?¡± Vad asked. Everyone stopped, tension ratcheting up rapidly. As a group, the other four turned to stare at him; whether it was slowly or quickly or Zhu opening a dozen incredulous eyes on the tail that wrapped around James¡¯ armored leg. ¡°What?¡± Vad said. ¡°What? Magic is real and my workplace has a hole in reality! Don¡¯t tell me now that ¡®someone who changes faces¡¯ is something I should have known was wrong!¡± ¡°Well¡­ it is. And now you know.¡± James ground his palms into his eye sockets. ¡°I¡¯m going to scream.¡± ¡°Not in the library.¡± TQ said in a flat digital voice. And then, after a brief pause, ¡°We will scream when we get home.¡± Momo held up a hand. ¡°Counterpoint!¡± She offered. ¡°Maybe Vad hasn¡¯t seen Ol¡¯ Shooty, and it¡¯s just¡­ a normal shapeshifter? I¡¯m still waiting to find a real vampire. The world is weird?¡± She shrugged, suddenly unsure of what she¡¯d just said, but still following her abrupt instinct to pretend that everything was okay. Despite the fact that so far, that had never been the case, they decided to end their short break there, and keep moving. Though James did make a note to absolutely include the building this dungeon was in as one of the places they put real security on. The Order was constantly expanding, but he felt like they might need to go a little quicker now, to get the number of eyes they needed for what was quickly becoming an interlocking series of potentially horrifying problems. Regardless, they had a destination, and while Zhu shared James¡¯ concern about literally everything Vad had said, he was also far more interested in finishing their journey, and his manifested form was practically vibrating against James as they stashed their bottles and readied themselves to move. It was a bit anticlimactic, really. There was just another tall wooden shelf in front of them. Nothing jumped at them, and while to the left, there was what looked like a solid wall with a lounge chair, and the right stretched back into more of the stacks, there was no gap in the space in front of them. They split into two groups, and circled around it. It wasn¡¯t that large, maybe thirty feet wide, so only not even a minute to circle around it. The aisles on the sides were similar; just like every other row of shelves and books in the library so far. ¡°It¡¯s a box.¡± James said as he met up with Momo on the far side of the space. ¡°It¡¯s a mystery.¡± Zhu added gleefully, the navigator reaching out to tap at one of the books on the shelf. TQ joined them shortly, staring up at the shelves. ¡°Perhaps it is a secret door. Do we start pulling on books?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been watching too much Scooby-Doo.¡± James grumbled in a friendly tone. ¡°But also maybe? Or¡­ do we just climb it?¡± ¡°No.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°Well, I do not. You can.¡± James scanned over the book titles on the shelf, looking for anything that stood out. But they were all just the same collection of random nouns that every other book in here seemed to be. He looked over his shoulder as movement caught the edge of his attention, but there was just a flickering light at the end of a long hall. ¡°Hm.¡± He reached out and grabbed a book at random, coughing suddenly as a plume of dust came with it. ¡°Ack.¡± TQ said in a perfectly clear voice while the camraconda hissed and spat with his actual mouth. ¡°Why.¡± ¡°Actually good question.¡± James muttered. ¡°Nothing else here is ever dusty¡­¡± He glanced up at the others. ¡°Circle back. Look for a spot that we didn¡¯t touch, that¡¯s clean.¡± Momo and Vad nodded, and James took TQ back the way they¡¯d came, ignoring Zhu chanting softly about a secret door. He moved slowly, the silence of the library swirling in around them as they went book by book, slowly scanning for anything out of place. It was amazing, to James, how quickly the task became boring. He didn¡¯t have any magic that helped with searching something like this, no extra skill ranks, not even experience in this kind of puzzling investigation. Well, aside from the normal alertness required of a dungeon delve. But that was more about spotting danger, not piece by piece going over an entire wall. TQ apparently didn¡¯t share his issue, the camraconda efficiently sweeping low sections of the shelves in a steady methodical gaze before slithering on. But the whole thing to James felt uncomfortable; that steady feeling that he could be attacked at any time mixed with doing something repetitive and dull rapidly stacking up as he failed to find anything and worried he was wasting everyone¡¯s time. Until TQ hissed in delight and removed a pristine copy of a thin glossy covered book titled Clay Wasp Oven, and then looked up at the wall in expectation, his eye irising in short motions as he waited. ¡°Huh¡­¡± James said. ¡°I was really hoping that would-¡° He was cut off as the shelf in front of them cracked in half in the middle, right at his eyeline; half of it rising up to form an archway, the other half descending into the floor as if it was never there, himself, Zhu, and TQ all jerking back before the fast moving shelves could take their various curious limbs with it. ¡°Oh!¡± ¡°I am the best at puzzles.¡± The camraconda declared as Momo and Vad appeared in a dash, following the noise. On guard for whatever was waiting for them, the group entered through the gap in a vanguard formation, James taking the lead. Traps or monsters, he wasn¡¯t sure what he was expecting. They could see through the archway that the room inside was surrounded by more shelves, looking like every other part of the Library, but that was it. There was a loud caw as they stepped through the gap and looked around; a small black bird perched on one of the shelves looking down at them with disdain. James cocked his head at it, eyes flicking around to make sure they weren¡¯t about to be figuratively murdered, but it seemed to be alone. ¡°Ink?¡± Momo whispered curiously. She was also looking at the bird, and a quick reevaluation showed it was obviously a piece of dungeon life. While James couldn¡¯t tell what its body was made of, its wings showed themselves to obviously be pens when it fanned them out; a skeletal structure of ballpoints, with feathers of sticky black ink filling in the gaps around them. Its eyes glowed soft red, and its face and beak looked like intricate origami. ¡°Cool. Think it¡¯s gonna try to kill us?¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s nesting here.¡± Vad whispered back, pointing to a spot where something like a dictionary had been knocked sideways on a shelf and hollowed out into a bed of shredded paper. He gave a small wave to the bird. ¡°We don¡¯t have to fight it, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± James agreed. ¡°But we should check out that.¡± The bird had drawn their attention, and, he would admit, did look really cool. But more important was the room they¡¯d found. The floor was polished hardwood, and empty except for two things; on their right, a pedestal with an open book sitting upon it, and to their left, a¡­ well¡­ Dungeons, in James¡¯ experience, were often consistent, right up until the moment they weren¡¯t. Officium Mundi was his go-to example. It used office supplies for its creatures and building materials and themes for its biomes, but then, sometimes, it decided it wanted an ocean, so it made an ocean. And now, here, amid the shelves of books and the endless smell of old paper, warm wood and distant lights, there was a ring of stone. It was easily half again as tall as James, and the lower part of it was sunk into the floor. Made of a grey stone with lines of shimmering quartz running through it like veins, and with raised circles carved into its surface, it dominated the space as it silently waited for¡­ ¡°What is this for?¡± James asked quietly. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± Zhu said, eyes running down his mantle on James¡¯ left arm as he looked at. ¡°And this is the end of this journey. Thank you.¡± The navigator sighed in deep contentment as his form shifted slightly. From the other side of the room, Momo waved James over, jumping as her motion got another loud caw from the bird that was still glaring at them. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna bother you, hush.¡± She pursed her lips at it until James joined them. Though he did take the way that didn¡¯t lead him past the shelf the bird was on. ¡°Okay, so. Book. Here¡¯s what I¡¯ve got¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been here eight seconds.¡± Vad said. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good at this.¡± Momo said. ¡°Also it¡¯s kinda obvious. Pages won¡¯t turn, and it¡¯s just this.¡± She shuffled sideways to let James look at the text that she and Vad had already inspected, while across the room, TQ was circling around the ring of stone with a curious eye. The book was thick parchment, and text that was written in what looked like quill pen. It was in French, which deterred James exactly not at all. Two words, and two underscored blank spaces. ¡°Is this¡­ french Mad Libs?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, it is French! I knew it!¡± Momo grinned. ¡°Also I think so. But neither of us read French. What¡¯s it want?¡± ¡°It¡¯s ¡®the blank breaking blank¡¯.¡± James read. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t actually help us?¡± ¡°Oh, but it does.¡± Vad rubbed at his forehead. ¡°Because Momo and I can feel it asking us for things.¡± ¡°The word tattoos.¡± James said suddenly, making the connection. ¡°Hm.¡± He glanced over at the stone ring, and then back at the book. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s test this carefully.¡± He called the camraconda over, and the two of them got into a flanking formation on the stone ring that was the most probable cause of a disaster if this went wrong. He knelt, pulling the handgun he kept as a sidearm and holding it steady, aimed at the ring, while TQ took cover behind their cargo cart and did the same with his own pistol, as well as making sure he had line of sight to the whole space. James gave one last glance to the bird that was patiently watching them with a suspicious ruby-eyed glare, before turning to Momo and Vad. ¡°Okay. See if your idea works, then fan out.¡± He said. Momo grinned, ignoring the rapid nervous tapping of Vad¡¯s fingers on the pedestal. She looked down at the book, and tapped a finger against the first blank line. ¡°Tyrant.¡± Momo spoke, before cringing in her head as she realized how overly dramatic she¡¯d made that sound. But the word filled itself in, ink scratching across the page, and Momo had a sudden knowledge that she had two uses left. Next to her, Vad nodded, and took a deep breath as he pressed his finger to the page under where she¡¯d touched it. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve only got one noun, so, tongue?¡± He said it like a question. But he said it all the same. The word filled itself in. And the stone ring abruptly lit up. James tightened his grip on his gun, making sure he was breathing steadily and not clenching his hands too hard as he got ready. Overhead, the ink crow started cawing in rapid bursts of noise, contrasted to the otherwise absolute silence of the event. And then the light was gone, and in the middle of the ring, suspended in midair, was a small object. ¡°You doing that?¡± James spoke out of the corner of his mouth to TQ. ¡°No.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°Should we shoot it?¡± He asked. ¡°Don¡¯t shoot my magic!¡± Momo declared, stepping through the middle of them, somewhat recklessly, but still leaving both of their lines of sight mostly clear as she approached the ring. She paused only briefly, before reaching out and taking the thing, its weight reasserting itself as soon as she touched it. A small soapstone carving of a lion, its mouth open in a roar. ¡°Okay, awesome.¡± She said. ¡°And I have no idea what this does, but wow does it feel weird.¡± James agreed; it wasn¡¯t exactly the same texture as the magic from the Office that he was most familiar with, but the thing Momo was holding practically buzzed in his senses, like a power line in the humidity. And then, with no obvious danger coming, he asked the question that he figured was most important in that moment. ¡°Can you repeat that?¡± Vad and Momo shared a raised eyebrow look. And then they did. And it worked exactly the same. They did it again, and the tattoos of moving words they had vanished completely from their skin as they used up all three charges of them. But by the end, the group had three identical soapstone lions, all of them waiting for¡­ something. ¡°Alright. Time to head back.¡± James said, referencing the map they¡¯d brought along while Zhu tried to entice the ink crow to come down off its shelf. As Momo failed to pick the book up off its pedestal, James glanced up at the bird. ¡°Nice to meet you. You¡¯re welcome to come along if you want, but we¡¯re heading out.¡± He said, and got an irate avian yell in response. ¡°Figured.¡± He muttered. ¡°You know, I think crows are so fucking cool, and they all hate me.¡± He griped. Their trip back was a lot faster, and while James did accidentally acquire a species rank in North American fire ants, it was otherwise smooth. Then they agreed, after a rest, that they were up for trying to find that alternate orb type James had gotten from the catalog. The stairs up to the next floor felt dangerously unstable under their feet and tail. The next landing was a disarray of scattered books and torn newsprint. But they followed directions, and continued heading up, to a landing that was even more chaotic. It looked like the information desk had been fortified; stacks of books, some of them corpses of the living fanged texts, pinned down in makeshift walls and parapets with dictionaries that none of them could move. Wooden chairs splintered and piled to block off access. Vad voiced his dislike of the situation, and no one disagreed, but they still took a left and moved on as instructed. Though even Zhu was on edge as they pressed deeper into the unknown. A feeling of fear creeping in that didn¡¯t feel entirely natural. They stopped when they saw the end of the row of shelves they were in opened into a clear floor space with a wooden bannister encircling the middle of it. James couldn¡¯t see stairs down, but it was clear there was a hole in the floor up ahead. And suspended in the middle of it, a globe. So large that it dominated the space; like the kind of globe that a secret cabal bent on world domination would have hanging in their lair. It sat, showing unearthly continents and oceans, in midair over the hole in the floor. And circling it, an inky-dark whale of a creature. Six long black arms dragging it across the surface of the globe in lazy loops. It wasn¡¯t clear if it had eyes on its protruding flat oval head, or if it was nothing but a single mass. But it was far, far larger than anything they were prepared to deal with. ¡°Okay.¡± James whispered. ¡°Vad was right. Fuck this.¡± ¡°I want to be smug about being right, but I¡¯m too busy being petrified.¡± Vad admitted. ¡°Ah. My apologies.¡± TQ said as they slowly backed away, whispering to each other until they were out of sight of the massive thing, and then hurriedly backtracking to the stairs. Only Momo snickered at the camraconda¡¯s joke, but he felt satisfied that he¡¯d gotten someone with it. Humor was hard, to the biomechanical serpent. James¡¯ dream of a new and life-complicating orb type might have been crushed by whatever the hell that thing was - a or the baroness of darkness, he supposed - but that didn¡¯t stop the group from finding ways into the librarian desks on both landings, and walking off with the computer hardware they found there. But that was about all the energy they had for adventure that night. Vad wasn¡¯t mentally equipped for a dungeon endurance test, and TQ wasn¡¯t physically able to keep up with human leg endurance for that long. James and Momo did a few more sweeps of shelves near their ¡®safe¡¯ landing, collecting another couple dozen species orbs as they picked off hostile books. But it wasn¡¯t so much exploration as it was snapping up what they could before they headed back to reality. ¡°This was fun.¡± James said to Vad as they left. ¡°We should do it again sometime.¡± ¡°We do this almost every week.¡± Vad reminded him. ¡°You¡¯re just busy all the time. Also, hey, why wasn¡¯t Arrush with you this time?¡± James blinked at the sudden question as they stepped back through the door to the library that was more normal for mundane Earth. ¡°Oh! Uh, he had a date with his boyfriend. I didn¡¯t want to interrupt them.¡± ¡°Oh! Uh¡­. Oh.¡± Vad said with a shrug as Momo started helping TQ unclip his armor behind them and tossed the pieces of camraconda Kevlar plate into the cart. ¡°¡­What?¡± James said, suddenly worried he was going to get defensive. He was aware he lived in a social bubble sometimes where he¡¯d taken great pains to get everyone who was an asshole to fuck off, so he wasn¡¯t exactly surprised when random new people he talked to turned out to be bigots sometimes. But he still hated the experience, and hoped that wasn¡¯t what was about to happen. It wasn¡¯t. ¡°Oh, sorry.¡± Vad said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°I honestly just kind of assumed you were his boyfriend.¡± ¡°Wait what?¡± James was caught off guard. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve got that vibe.¡± The young librarian answered. ¡°It¡¯s true! You¡¯re super gay, man.¡± Momo said, clapping him on the shoulder as she walked by. ¡°And, like, come on. If literally anyone in the Order was going to be super into an interspecies relationship, it¡¯s you.¡± ¡°I have a girlfriend!¡± ¡°And like six copies of a boyfriend.¡± Momo retorted. ¡°And also there are people in interspecies relationships that aren¡¯t me!¡± James protested. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I¡¯m against it! I¡¯d totally smooch someone who wasn¡¯t human. Hell, I¡¯m not against dating Arrush. But, like, ¡®if anyone¡¯ was gonna be dating outside their species, it¡¯d be the people who are doing that right now.¡± TQ rolled his coils back as he stretched himself out, freed from his armor and armature pack. ¡°I had assumed Alanna was a metahuman variant.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°Such as the illuminated versions of my people.¡± ¡°¡­You¡­ wait, what?¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to process this. I¡¯m at more risk of dying via aneurysm from you dweebs than getting eaten by a book.¡± ¡°Well, hey, if you¡¯re not busy and don¡¯t need to get back to your hot rat boyfriend,¡± Momo started, and rolled over James¡¯ attempts to correct her, ¡°wanna teleport Vad here up to the diner for the traditional after-delve milkshake?¡± She glanced at the newer member of their chaotic mess of an organization. ¡°Vad? Milkshake?¡± ¡°¡±Yeah, sure.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Why not. Life¡¯s weird.¡± James nodded. ¡°Alright. But first, does this library have a bathroom? I ate a box of fried chicken before going on a hike and engaging in a hundred small skirmishes, and I made a mistake.¡± His companions laughed, or in Momo¡¯s case tried to dramatically pretend she couldn¡¯t hear him, while James just smiled and shrugged. It was, he felt, important to never get so caught up in his ongoing magical growth that he forgot that life was silly. He hoped the staff at the diner shared his view, since the Order kept bringing camracondas and infomorphs and wizards there to get milkshakes. _____ Roughly a thousand horsepower thrummed under the hood of El¡¯s 1992 Mazda Miata. The car¡¯s original factory specs had it listed as something like a hundred, and El hadn¡¯t even bothered looking at the original number before she¡¯d started cramming an increasingly unlikely number of magical pieces into the vehicle to push it farther and farther past what was reasonable. Most of it was flatly impossible. High beams that didn¡¯t care whether light was a particle or a wave. An engine that shouldn¡¯t have fit in the entire car much less under the hood. Variable friction on the wheels (the wheels themselves were not magical, but there were some ball bearings somewhere inside the car that were). Some of what was involved was magic that just didn¡¯t work quite right. El had poured a lot of her Order stipend of magic into getting a copy of the purple orb that extended proprioception to a touched object, hoping it would make her an even more perfect symbiotic machine with her vehicle. But unfortunately, something stopped it from going past the steering wheel. El didn¡¯t like that it didn¡¯t work, but it had been worth trying just for what could have been. For a good chunk of her recent life, the project car had been El¡¯s favorite thing. Flatly, just, her favorite. And though her life had changed a lot, along with her priorities, she still loved the high speed jellybean. James, for his part, wasn¡¯t overly fond of the rounded look of the early 90¡¯s design. Despite being a child of the era, the main thing James remembered about the 90¡¯s was carpet that wasn¡¯t very comfortable to play on, Orbitz, and that he never once got to play with one of those mad scientist slime factory toys. This car evoked two of those three feelings in him, though he would admit, El had gone out of her way since she¡¯d returned to delving the Route Horizon to make the seats as comfortable as possible. He was riding shotgun as they flew across the glassy asphalt of a stretch of the dungeon. James had, to be polite, offered to take shifts driving, and had been shot down so rapidly he was starting to wonder if El¡¯s ancestry included a brigade of WWII anti aircraft gunners. Of course, he¡¯d also offered to drive so he¡¯d have something to do aside from watching the desert around them, fidgeting, and slowly melting under the twin suns overhead. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, the top doesn¡¯t have to be down!¡± James pointed out. It had been about ten hours since he¡¯d been in the Ceaseless Stacks, and most of that had been spent sleeping, so the mental shift from whispering to avoid detection, to yelling so he could be heard over the roar of the engine and wind, took a little effort. El didn¡¯t even glance at him, keeping her vision forward as they flew along at a comfortable hundred miles an hour. They had the road to themselves for now, but that was no reason to be reckless. Her blonde hair was in a braid, but the ends of it flicked against the collar of her leather jacket as the wind tugged at it, the sunglasses she was wearing were a little unstylish but still let her see potential wastes of time ahead of them. And kept the sun out. ¡°It¡¯s part of the vibe!¡± She replied, a laugh in her voice. El didn¡¯t yell; she just let Speaky make sure her words were heard, the infomorph in her head keeping her from shouting herself hoarse. It had been a gradual shift, over the course of months. She didn¡¯t know when it started, or if it was still going on. But El was occasionally weirded out to think of herself as the kind of person who laughed a lot. Or the kind of person that ran a youth group, or took part in group talk therapy sessions. She¡¯d been stuck in her head for a while, really. And her self image was still misaligned to ¡®herself but twenty three and recklessly perfect¡¯. Which was fine. Being reckless was sometimes helpful. And in this winding asphalt and sand dungeon, being perfect was practically a requirement. She slowed as the road started to curve, not wanting to test the stability of her wheels at these speeds. The curves of the road were deceptive in how much they asked of you, when you were going at speeds like this, so El just eased off and played it safe, while James grabbed onto the door to keep himself stable as she still whipped them through the turn at what could be considered high speed. Outside the car, Zhu and Harriet, the other navigator that was paired with their back seat passenger, trailed like feathered spears of orange light. Tracing lines against the road as they followed the car and fed off the high speed journey. James and El had brought Kirk along for this one, partly because it seemed silly to not use the seating they had, and also partly because he¡¯d asked nicely. But really, they weren¡¯t here to do any long term looting or fighting or anything, except checking out one weird thing. ¡°Yo! You see that?¡± El jerked her head to their left, to what mostly looked like empty rough red rock dotted with bits of scraggly sun bleached plants. James pushed himself up to look over her head as he scanned the space, and behind them, Kirk followed his line of sight. Neither of them had the benefit of El¡¯s magical glasses, but they still had eyes, and they looked for anything that looked like it would be worth investigating. The ground around the roads in this dungeon often looked like it went on literally forever, but that was an illusion, caused by intense artificial heat shimmers. There was actually a lot to find out there, off the beaten path, if you knew where to look. And a lot of loose rock and dead plants to get lost in, if you didn¡¯t. ¡°Got it.¡± James pointed. ¡°Something metallic, way out there. Look for a turn off!¡± It was barely anything, but it was something. A tiny glinting bit of light, just at ground level, off in the distance. James wouldn¡¯t even have been looking that direction if El hadn¡¯t prompted it. ¡°Want me to make it work?¡± Kirk asked loudly, and James gave him the thumbs up. ¡°Alright, slow down a sec.¡± The man closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, bringing his hands up to form a circle with his fingers. Not everyone in the Order used their magic with gestures or words, but for a lot of people it was a good way to focus. And, James suspected, it also just kinda made you feel cooler. Kirk had a couple spells from the Horizon. Powered by the stored Velocity of his own movements, the one that he called up now was simple. Which, generally, meant it was both flexible and absurdly useful. A Citizen Of Travel, it was called, and it made part of a journey safe. Or rather, as far as they could tell from testing, it somehow prevented one active threat or injury during a set journey. He¡¯d asked El to slow down because taking the turn to a new destination could represent the beginning of a new journey. And when Kirk signaled to her, and she spun the wheel to the left, he let the spell out into the world. The Velocity for it would recover rapidly, the way El drove, but the effect was almost immediate. He hadn¡¯t needed to signal, even. Through her sunglasses, El saw the wasted time that covered the edges of the road drop to nothing. A lot of spots dropped to nearly zero. By sheer magically assisted luck, El¡¯s wheels rolled over the small trench of sharpened scrap metal that lined the highway without a single problem. She piloted them through a gap in the sheet metal guardrail with practiced ease, and then brought them back up to a steady speed as she aimed toward the spot in the distance. A steady speed, but a slow one compared to what she¡¯d been doing. The 1992 Mazda Miata was a hell of a car, but until El could find a magical suspension for it that made it immune to being rattled apart, she wasn¡¯t going to be doing more than thirty across the loose rocks of the Horizon¡¯s off road areas. ¡°You know, you can just buy a jeep or something.¡± James told her, his voice vibrating as they hit a series of small divots. ¡°I will buy you a jeep or something! Oh god, this is¡­ hurk!¡± The last word was more of a strangled gasp, dragged out of him as El rolled over a two inch drop off a flat stone outcrop. ¡°I¡¯ll pitch in!¡± Kirk added. ¡°Also, I hate to be the picky asshole here, but now can we put the top up?¡± ¡°God, you two are babies.¡± El sighed. And then regretted it instantly, as she inhaled a mouthful of gritty red dust that her tires were kicking up. After sputtering that away, and stopping the car briefly to seal them inside, they resumed the trip in slightly more quiet surroundings. ¡°This is so much nicer.¡± James groaned. ¡°Also watch out for that cave on the right.¡± ¡°I see the cave thank you.¡± El rolled her eyes. ¡°Jesus you¡¯re such a baby. It¡¯s like you want to avoid all the fun.¡± ¡°Do you wanna go in the spooky cave and get eaten by whatever lives there?¡± ¡°No, but we can probably outrun it. And then circle back and loot whatever it¡¯s guarding.¡± El clicked her tongue. ¡°Actually, that sounds kinda like a good plan. Wanna do that?¡± ¡°Maybe on the way back. How¡¯s the car doing?¡± ¡°Oh, fine.¡± El waved a hand, not bothering to keep both her limbs on the steering wheel when she was practically going a safe speed for a school zone. ¡°She can keep this up forever. Especially with the regeneration gas. Which I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you about, but you¡¯re busy all the fucking time.¡± El shot a split second glare at James. James just titled his head back into the seat. ¡°Am I?¡± He asked after a massive yawn split his face. ¡°I¡¯ve been¡­ uh¡­.¡± ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know your schedule, but you¡¯re barely ever actually just around for me to find at the Lair. You have an office, and you don¡¯t use it. Rufus uses your office.¡± ¡°Rufus¡­ what?¡± James stumbled over his words. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s¡­ I mean, I know he¡¯s getting bigger, but he¡¯s not gonna fill out my chair.¡± ¡°Sorry, is Rufus human?¡± Kirk asked from behind them. James turned to reply through the gap in the front seats. ¡°He¡¯s a stapler. Maybe puppy sized, I guess? I have a hard time describing sizes. How big is a foot? This big?¡± He held his hands apart. ¡°However big this is, he¡¯s like, a bit more than two of them long.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ just show me how big he is.¡± Kirk shook his head at James. ¡°No, nevermind. Also, hang on, refreshing our protection.¡± He closed his eyes and settled back into his casting position as his Velocity refilled to the point that he could do it again. It hadn¡¯t fully recharged that quickly, not at this speed, but Kirk had a good supply of it to draw on, and having one get out of problem free card floating around them was always good. ¡°Okay, so, sorry, regen gas?¡± James settled back and addressed El, even as he kept sweeping his eyes over the rocks around them, making sure nothing was about to lunge out and attack. They were getting into an area where small canyons and ledges were becoming more frequent, which was not the environment for this car, enhanced or no. And while on the roads, the biggest threats were the fast ones, James knew there was at least one type of giant spider here somewhere. ¡°What¡¯cha need from me?¡± ¡°Well, how¡¯s it work?¡± El asked. James gave her an unimpressed look, and said nothing. ¡°No, come on! I mean, like, you know all the weird cornercase magic shit! How do I make it dumb!¡± ¡°We prefer the term ¡®useful¡¯, but I¡¯m also still not sure what you mean.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± El drummed her fingers across the leather of the wheel in her hands as she made a minute adjustment so they wouldn¡¯t need to hit the largest pothole ever seen. ¡°Like, can I drink it, is-¡° ¡°No!¡± Kirk cut in. ¡°Absolutely do not do that!¡± James turned again to shoot the Horizonist a raised eyebrow. ¡°You say that like you tried it.¡± He said, not exactly accusatory, but something close. Then when Kirk just stared back at him James blinked and corrected. ¡°Wait, shit, did you try that? I¡¯m guessing it didn¡¯t work.¡± ¡°Yeah, it tasted like gas.¡± Kirk growled. ¡°Don¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°-so what I was saying before the two idiot men in my car cut me off,¡± El picked up forcefully, ¡°was since that won¡¯t work, I¡¯d like to know how it would. Like, okay, what is the bare minimum condition the gas needs to heal, instead of¡­ uh¡­ doing whatever it does to a human when they drink gas. I¡¯m assuming makes you shit yourself inside out. Sorry Kirk.¡± El winced in exaggerated sympathy for the man, who just silently refused to meet her eyes in the rear view mirror. James tried to remember. ¡°So, being honest, I¡¯m not Research. I come up with some weird shit, sure, but you should talk to Reed or someone. But I think it¡¯s just that you need a combustion engine that actually uses the gas as a legitimate source of power. It can¡¯t just burn it for fun, and it needs to be meaningfully relevant to whatever it¡¯s connected to in order to heal it. Car is easiest, but I know someone got it to work with a generator. Though it didn¡¯t spread to what it was powering.¡± ¡°Okay, and with a car, it can bring mostly dead hulks back from nothing, right?¡± ¡°It¡¯s very cool to watch.¡± Kirk nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve been using it to clear the streets in Townton. Though it doesn¡¯t un-flip the cars, so that¡¯s a problem more often than you¡¯d think.¡± ¡°Oh, before I forget, how¡¯re the necroad things doing?¡± James asked excitedly. ¡°I¡¯m not down here much, I know, but I¡¯m curious how that¡¯s going.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve stopped hunting us, though no one knows if it¡¯s survival instinct or something else.¡± Kirk sighed. ¡°I know what you mean, though. They¡¯re important. They¡¯re from here, sort of, and they can think and learn. That¡¯s¡­ I think they¡¯re important, and I want to help them, but they¡¯re still skittish.¡± El whapped a hand on the dashboard. ¡°Guys, focus. Gas.¡± James made a show of dramatically refocusing on her, though Kirk just quietly went back to his vigil out the rear window. And James was still watching out the side of the car, staying alert even as he hammed it up. ¡°Because I¡¯m going somewhere with this. I wanna grow car parts.¡± ¡°¡­no?¡± James ventured carefully. ¡°No.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got a million of those cactus pots-¡° ¡°Succulents, actually.¡± ¡°-would you stop fucking interrupting me? This is why I shot you, you know!¡± El snapped at him. ¡°Just let me plant the smaller magical car parts in them, and then use the regen gas to make them work, even if they shouldn¡¯t! I know none of this shit is valuable enough in a magical-replicator-use kind of way, but I wanna see if this shit can stack, and this seems like the perfect way to do it.¡± James hummed. ¡°That¡­ seems like it could work? I mean, I dunno why I¡¯m saying that, I¡¯m not the arbiter of how magic functions. Sounds dumb enough that it might work out. Though I¡¯d worry that the plant-parts might wither if you ever stop using the repair gas.¡± ¡°They¡¯re succulents.¡± El¡¯s voice held a mocking edge. ¡°¡­that¡­ actually feels kinda bad.¡± James said slowly. ¡°Shit, sorry. I¡¯m still¡­ nah, fuck it. Sorry.¡± El¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°God dammit, I can¡¯t even banter without being a shitty person.¡± Kirk cleared his throat. ¡°I want to tell you that you¡¯re being self depreciating for the wrong reason, but I also need you both to know that there¡¯s something tailing us.¡± He was twisted around in his seat, the barrel of the long rifle he¡¯d had near his feet now tilted down to the floor of the car as he started to bring it up. ¡°Did it come from the cave?¡± James asked, pulling his bullpup up from his chest and starting to roll his window down. ¡°No, don¡¯t answer that. El, what¡¯s our situation look like?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got a clear shot coming up, looks like. I can get us up to speed if we need to, but it¡¯ll be rough.¡± She shot a look upward. ¡°Shoulda left the top down. Kirk¡¯s gonna fucking blow my window out.¡± James glanced in the wing mirror and felt a spike of alarm at the same time that Kirk¡¯s voice rose up from the back seat. ¡°Shit, it¡¯s gaining fast!¡± ¡°Go!¡± James ordered El, who instantly put the pedal down and triggered one of her own Horizon spells. El didn¡¯t bother with words or gestures, instead just feeling the Velocity spike her heart rate, alongside the speed of the vehicle. Their speed doubled, and then El eased on more acceleration, the car¡¯s wheels leaving the ground for a few heart stopping seconds as they ramped off a thin rock ledge poking up through the dirt. Ahead of them, the two navigators split into forms that were an array of optional paths. Lines of approach showing what was safe and what was certain death. The dot in the mirror that was the thing chasing them had gotten a lot bigger in an alarmingly short few seconds, but at least now it wasn¡¯t going to ram them in the next blink of an eye. But it was still closing in. James slipped earplugs in, while El fumbled hers one handed, and both of them gave a thumbs up to Kirk as James shoved his rifle out the window and both of the men opened fire. James¡¯ gun was bound to the bracelet he was wearing, so he was a lot less cautious with his ammo use, but Kirk took careful shots with the heavy .308 ammo as they tried to drive off or kill the dune bug before it could get too close. The first rifle shot went wide as it shattered El¡¯s window, but after that, Kirk leaned back against her seat, bracing the gun, and took aimed shots downrange. The bulbous form of the other car closing with them like it didn¡¯t care at all about the hard bumps and jerks it was making on the rocky ground. A dome like a classic VW bug, covered in organic looking growths and with headlights like a predator¡¯s eyes. It got to within a couple hundred feet of them before El¡¯s increasing use of their engine started to let them pull away. Kirk shouted a warning as soon as the dune bug pulled up behind them, and Harriet¡¯s navigator light vanished from El¡¯s vision as she rushed back to cover him. Kirk followed a dodge pattern on trained instinct, flattening himself in the back seat as the monstrous car started to bombard them with a hail of corrosive needles. James could barely feel the impacts on the car, like heavy hail mixed in with the increasingly gut wrenching jerks and bumps of their flight across the desert. James kept his head down, but took the opportunity with every swerve El made to lay down suppressing fire on the dune buggy. He knew at least half his bullets were missing, but the thing couldn¡¯t just ignore him shooting unless it was a mindless hulk, and if it did that then the damage would add up fast enough anyway. El cackled a manic laugh as she whipped her precious chariot across the battlefield. She felt perfectly in control, the magic of her speed enhancing spell giving her the reflexes to dodge the sudden appearance of a saguaro cactus and the boulder behind it that looked like it was almost trying to camouflage itself against the ground. The thing chasing them was still firing on them, but it was coming slower; she thought James had shot out one of its gun blisters, but she wished it were the one on the other side so she could stop flinching every time a needle buried itself in the Kevlar reinforced seat back next to her head before James toggled his shield bracer to block them with a rapidly flickering dome of gold light. And yet, for all that her heart was hammering and her brain was screaming at her, El was having the time of her fucking life. And she could feel the energy in the car as the other two caught the feeling too. Then the second smaller dune bug flung itself out from around an outcrop, and slammed into the back of her car. She kept control, they didn¡¯t quite go spinning, but she heard Kirk hollering in pain as he twisted and started trying to fire at the new thing that had pulled up alongside them. A chunk of her roof ripped away, and El felt the car pitch in a horrifying way as her rear right wheel was torn apart. Then she glanced in her rear view, just in time to see Kirk sit up in the seat, take two shots, and get grabbed around the throat by a pair of snapping prehensile seatbelts before he was yanked forward with a snapping of bone, his body sliding out the hole in the car, the orange feathers of Harriet just¡­ gone. El felt like her world came to a stop. A cold feeling building inside of her as she blinked slowly, and glanced over at where James was screaming something, still shooting back at the monster that was after them. But she suddenly didn¡¯t feel that invested in it. El took her foot off the gas and started easing them to a stop. This would be easier if they weren¡¯t too far away. She let go of the wheel when James looked over at her with a wide eyed expression. ¡°What the fuck are you doing?!¡± He demanded frantically. ¡°El!¡± She smiled at him, and shrugged. ¡°You never like this part.¡± She said. ¡°Look over there.¡± She pointed out the window, and James¡¯ head snapped around to look. Which gave El the window she needed. The Horizon¡¯s spells were actually pretty varied for something that seemed to try to be thematic. And one of El¡¯s was both weird, and insane. The Road Leads Ever Onward; a get out of jail free card. If she wasn¡¯t in trouble, it plotted a course to keep her there. If she was, if there was no other way out, then it did one better. It changed things. Let her take a mulligan, a do over, one extra try to get something right. The only problem was, she needed to actually be at the end of the road to make it work that way. So El had a standing policy, that if anyone went down on a delve, she went with them. Sort of. The pistol in her center console was small, heavy, and had one bullet in it. This part was always so fucking hard, because it required conviction. But fuck it. El actually liked Kirk. She whipped the gun up to her head while James wasn¡¯t looking, breathed an adrenaline pumping burst of her magic into the world, and pulled the trigger before the other dune bug rammed them from behind. The Road Leads Ever Onward. She felt the magic take hold. Looking for any way forward for her. There was an obvious one, which was to jam the gun or have El miss herself or whatever. But since she¡¯d stopped the car, that wouldn¡¯t work; and just ¡°don¡¯t do that¡± wasn¡¯t enough for someone who built a solid wall of their own dedication. Also, a good chunk of El¡¯s Velocity had been ¡®compressed¡¯ by the stupid magic hat the Order kept in their basement, and she¡¯d been saving it for something like this. It did something to the magic; made it more¡­ springy. She couldn¡¯t quite describe it, but it worked. So the spell splashed backward, moving through time to change whatever small thing it needed to in order to keep El alive. It found it in the simplest way possible. El cut short her manic laugh as she felt a spike of knowledge from the future drop into her thoughts while she whipped her precious chariot across the battlefield. She adjusted course before she even saw the stupid cactus, skidded them across a dusty slab of exposed stone, and threw her right arm out to grab James¡¯ head as her other hand spun the wheel in a series of loops. The poor Miata wasn¡¯t built for drifting across a rocky desert, but El made it work, the staccato hammering of the wheels on the loose rock as they drifted sideways vibrating her clenched teeth, while her other hand got James looking in the right direction. As soon as he was where he was supposed to be, she reached out with that now free hand, threw the still car into reverse, floored it again, flicked her fingers up, and yanked the release for the convertible top. As her roof folded away far too fast to be safe, Krik popped up next to her and leveled his rifle at the dune bug that was racing their way from the front, balancing the barrel on the lip of her windshield. He started taking heavy hammering shots that made El shake more than the bumps in the road, while James shouted in alarm as the second dune bug came into view with its ambush spoiled and the coppery tings of his gun¡¯s full auto added to the symphony. The organic blisters and metal shells of the dune bugs pitted and cratered as bullets slammed into both of them, the monsters unable to get close enough to kill then while El was recklessly sending them backward. Under the unrelenting hail of bullets, it wasn¡¯t more than a few seconds that felt like a couple hours until Kirk killed the beating heart of the larger pursuer, and James shredded the eyes and wheels of their smaller ambusher. El skidded them to a stop on the dusty rock before she backed them into a cave or some other shit. Turned to look at James and Kirk with a massive grin on her face. ¡°Alright!¡± She said. ¡°That was great! Someone recorded that, right?!¡± El exclaimed, as James slumped back into his seat when all the tension drained out of him. ¡°Kirk! You record everything in here! You got that, right? God, I¡¯m so fucking cool when I try.¡± She kicked her door open and hopped out onto the dirt, stumbling as her legs didn¡¯t work quite right. With a few strides, El made it over to the wrecked car, and kicked it once to make sure it was dead, before she started looting it, carefully avoiding the leaking fluids and sharp edges from the bullet holes. She needed James¡¯ help to get the rubber from the tires off, and the whole time they were working through the dune bugs, Kirk kept watch with a pair of binoculars that she was pretty sure weren¡¯t magic from atop a nearby hill, his rifle carefully angled against his chest, Harriet swirling around his feet in her manifested form. By the time they were done, she¡¯d found about six square feet of assorted map scraps, both navigator seeds, and pretty much nothing else aside from the salvaged materials from their successful hunt. ¡°Should I be calling these seeds?¡± She asked as she and James settled the wrapped things into her trunk. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I mean, they¡¯re more like eggs, right?¡± ¡°¡­Yes.¡± James agreed. ¡°But also they aren¡¯t alive when they first¡­ uh¡­ infomorph thing. Incept! They aren¡¯t alive then, so they¡¯re not really eggs. Though this is now a deeper philosophical debate than I think I can handle right now. I haven¡¯t slept much.¡± ¡°You¡¯re running on fumes and you decided to come get into deadly fights with an understrength team on a wild goose chase?¡± Kirk asked. ¡°Yes.¡± James said. El nodded. ¡°He does this. I think it¡¯s a kink thing.¡± ¡°Fucking hell, everyone wants to talk about my love life today.¡± James grumbled as they got moving again. ¡°Can we talk about something else?¡± ¡°How¡¯s the new country going?¡± Kirk asked, saving him from El. James tried his best to settle back into the seat, attempting to get comfortable when he felt like his back was drenched in sweat and the car was doing its best to shake his bones apart even at low speed. ¡°I don¡¯t think country is the right term. But also¡­ chaotic?¡± He shrugged, letting his vigilance lapse as he closed his eyes, trusting that Kirk or El would catch anything coming, and just listening to the engine and the steady clacking of Kirk reloading his rifle. ¡°Okay, so, I wanna ramble for a little bit. As a warning.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll pass the time at least.¡± Kirk assented. El looked like she was considering either snarking, or trying to figure out if her car had an ejector seat, but ultimately did neither and just shrugged. James cracked a grin as he closed his eyes again. He knew she was secretly into this. ¡°Okay. So, here¡¯s the thing. If you took the Order, all of us and everything we might call an asset, right now, and¡­ like¡­ teleported us to an empty planet? We could do a lot.¡± He paused, then added, ¡°An empty planet with life. Like, trees. A forest planet.¡± James cut off that tangent before it got too far. ¡°Anyway, with everything we have? We could get a lot done. We¡¯ve got a couple ways to magically grow food, we¡¯ve got respawning sources of things like furniture and clothing and even just usable materials. Green orbs alone let us turn a factory or a workshop into something that hits way above its weight class. Infomorphs can facilitate communication, paper drakes are an eco friendly form of transportation, medical¡­ well, okay, we don¡¯t have a lot of medical magic yet, beyond some weird first aid. But still.¡± James sighed. ¡°We can build wonders though. And we¡¯re going to, soon, here on Earth. Oh, in this fiction, humanity doesn¡¯t last for very long? Like¡­ if we¡¯re teleported there, we¡¯re not going to have a stable population, but we can lay the foundation for growing populations of camracondas and ratroaches and necroads to live in. I¡¯m assuming they¡¯re alive, just go with it.¡± ¡°Where exactly are we going with this?¡± El prompted. ¡°Is it to a point?¡± ¡°I¡¯m kinda into it.¡± Kirk said. El snorted, and started to mutter an agreement, but didn¡¯t get the words out before James answered her. ¡°The point is that we¡¯ve got a ton of magic that does some awesome stuff, and we could totally build a civilization from scratch. But¡­ uh¡­ we live in a world where the smallest country has a bigger military than us. And that-¡° ¡°Wait, hold up. What is it?¡± El said as she drove them around a deep crack in the baked dirt that she didn¡¯t want to risk moving over. ¡°You can¡¯t just say that and not explain.¡± ¡°Oh. The Vatican. They¡¯ve got I think a hundred people in their army.¡± James said, holding up a hand to her. ¡°I know. But we don¡¯t have a military at all, so I¡¯m counting it. We don¡¯t even have a hundred people in Response. Though I do think we could take the Swiss Guard - the Vatican¡¯s army is called the Swiss Guard, I don¡¯t know why, please let me finish - the point is that we live in a world where, like, superpowers are sending hundreds of thousands of soldiers into wars, and backing them up with drones and spy satellites and nukes and shit? And I¡¯m not sure where we¡¯re supposed to build anything when the whole world is owned by people who¡¯ll kill you for disobedience.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not really that bad. Also what about just building an island?¡± Kirk asked. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking tell me that we can¡¯t. Or, like, get the Alchemists to brew something that makes a person amphibious. I bet Nile would¡­ whine about being given work. Oh, actually, while we¡¯re here, and since you¡¯re never in your office; Nile and Red want to start delving. They think it will give them the instinct you have for magic, but for alchemy. You okay with that?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ wait, no, shit.¡± James slapped his head and cut off his instant denial of responsibility. ¡°I literally am the person in charge of this. Fuck. Okay. Um¡­ I¡¯ll schedule a time that we can sit down and talk. Message me when we get back to reality.¡± His thoughts caught on something else Kirk said. ¡°Also yes, build an island is an option. El, any other ideas?¡± ¡°Just fucking take a skyscraper, say you own it, and then make it the size of New Zealand on the inside? I dunno.¡± She shrugged, then tilted her head out of habit as she listened to a small voice inside her mind. ¡°Speaky says we should just use Montana, because no one will notice.¡± ¡°Zhu said the same thing.¡± James laughed. ¡°They¡¯re a bad influence on each other.¡± ¡°Yeah, stop corrupting my kid!¡± El¡¯s voice was light, but something about how she said that struck James in a way he wasn¡¯t expecting. A feeling welling up in his chest at the thought of raising an infomorph, letting them share your whole self, trying to help them find their way in the world. It sounded like a massive burden, but also a wonderful responsibility. And he knew, he knew, that he¡¯d tried before. James let out a long breath, and turned to stare out the window, blinking away abrupt tears that he wasn¡¯t prepared for. ¡°You okay?¡± El¡¯s voice didn¡¯t sound too concerned, but she¡¯d still asked. ¡°I¡¯m something.¡± James said, taking a stabilizing breath as Zhu curled back around his shoulder, his more bombastic glowing form congealing as the navigator moved to comfort the person who¡¯s distress he could feel on a sudden and personal level. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m alright.¡± James sighed as Zhu opened a worried eye at him. ¡°You kinda trailed off, talking about stealing Montana.¡± Kirk prompted him. ¡°Oh, right.¡± James nodded as he brought a hand up to idly pet Zhu¡¯s feathers. The navigator didn¡¯t feel the same way as a person would, but the intent and the motion was important to him. ¡°Uh¡­ you know what? Later. Because I think we¡¯re where we¡¯re going.¡± Where they¡¯d ended up was a sudden canyon. Not a very impressive one, but deep enough to be a problem. Exposed red and pink rock showing bright colors under the twin suns. And, in front of them, what James had spotted a tiny glint of from miles away, was exactly what they were looking for. There was an operations shack on their side of the canyon, a simple white shed with cracked and filthy windows and a set of complicated controls inside. Its equal was on the other side of the canyon. And between them, crossing that gap, was a bridge. A skeletal structure of old weathered wood and polished gleaming steel, the bridge stretched across what looked like about a half mile gap. It was a truss bridge, nothing holding it up except physics and almost certainly some kind of dungeon magic. And from the tangles of cables and almost organic bulges of machinery along it, James suspected it was a drawbridge too; though the real engines that powered that might be in the canyon face below them. He could see what looked like a vault door underneath the bridge on the other side, and had no interest in going down there right now. More importantly than any of that though, was what was on the bridge. Railroad tracks. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± James and El shared a predatory grin while Kirk popped her trunk and started pulling out gear. ¡°This is it. Got it.¡± A few times, delve teams had reported hearing a distant train horn. Or seeing the silhouette of one moving on the far distant horizon. But no one had ever seen one up close, or found where they crossed through the desert. Here, though? They¡¯d spotted it. James kicked at the ground, trailing a foot through the dirt until he hit a metal line, then scraped away the dust to reveal the tracks they were right on top of. He and El, and a few other people as guest delvers, had been looking for this for a while now when they had time. And here it was. James moved to help Kirk dig a hole in the ground. They¡¯d brought some pretty powerful radio beacons, so they could come back with an actual prepared raiding party and find the place. But first, they needed to set them up, and hope the dungeon didn¡¯t decide to just ruin their plan. But even if it did¡­ well. They knew what they were looking for now. The group shared a high five, the navigators getting in on it too, though El¡¯s kid stayed in her head for now. And then, there was just the long drive back. James offered to drive. He got shot down again. _____ Hours later, with still a day or two left of his low-stress time left, James pushed his way through the door to the briefing warehouse at the pack of the Lair. ¡°Yeah,¡± he was saying into his phone, still not having completely slipped the habit of using the physical device even though more and more Order members were starting to just make calls through their skulljacks, ¡°El and I went over the map bits. We¡¯ve got two hits, we think. So I¡¯m gonna leave them in the copy box; just make sure to get them before next week.¡± ¡°Nice.¡± Anesh replied. ¡°Reed and I have a bet on how this is gonna go.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a similar bet on how much property damage Momo is gonna cause with her new lion carvings when she figures out how to trigger them.¡± James nodded silently at Charlie as he walked past, the other man giving him a nod that was a lot more secretly respectful in return, as he listened to Anesh talk about copying map scraps before his boyfriend made a tangent to asking him if he wanted to get dinner that night. ¡°Oh! Sure!¡± James said, brightening up. ¡°Just us?¡± He asked. Anesh¡¯s voice was casual on the other end of the line. ¡°Your call.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t mind company. Maybe someone¡­ tall? Or just Momo, if she¡¯s still around.¡± ¡°Momo¡¯s probably asleep or drunk on power. And I¡¯m hanging up now.¡± James rolled his eyes and ignored Anesh¡¯s attempt to get him to ask Arrush out. ¡°But also I¡¯ll be home soon, and we should get¡­ some¡­ pizza. Hang on.¡± He pulled his phone away from his ear as he rounded a desk where they kept the Officium Mundi relevant stuff, and spotted two people laying on the ground. ¡°What is this.¡± He asked flatly. Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn were sprawled out near the unsorted loot section of their dungeon delving operation. The teenager and the camraconda slumped on the floor like ragdolls; still breathing, so they weren¡¯t dead, but Morgan was twitching his arms and legs in small jerks, and Color-Of-Dawn was rapidly irising their eye in a frantic way. ¡°Uh. Uh. Help?¡± The voice from Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s digital voice wasn¡¯t just flat, it was literally just a default text-to-speech voice. ¡°Hi.¡± They added. James sighed. ¡°What is this. What is going on¡­¡± he glanced at where the two of them were sprawled, and realized they were right next to the magic table that he¡¯d dragged out of Officium Mundi a little over one very long day ago. ¡°¡­here. Really? Morgan? Really?¡± ¡°Why. My. Fault.¡± The camraconda that was currently Morgan asked in stilted text to speech. ¡°Anesh, I¡¯m gonna be a few minutes.¡± James said into his phone before hanging up. It took him a little while to haul the two of them into position to both touch the table again, without touching it himself. When he did, he didn¡¯t even say anything. Just dropped off the map scraps he¡¯d gotten working with El and Kirk, shook his head in disappointment, and went to get dinner. ¡°My eye aches.¡± Color-Of-Dawn groaned as the camraconda woozily pulled themself up to a coiled rest. ¡°And my legs hurt.¡± Morgan said with a hoarse voice. ¡°Ow.¡± ¡°Apologies.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said sheepishly. Morgan looked over at his friend, a chaotic bundle of emotions running through his chest. ¡°I¡­ it¡¯s¡­ why are you apologizing? I¡¯m sorry. I feel like this is embarrassing for you?¡± ¡°Your body is¡­ very¡­ aggressive in how it feels.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said, looking away from Morgan. ¡°Yeah, well, I meant because you never told me you were a girl.¡± Morgan said, and instantly regretted the words. ¡°I mean¡­ not that¡­ look, I won¡¯t care or¡­¡± ¡°We should leave before this happens again.¡± Color-Of-Dawn stated, starting to slither away, before pausing and glancing backward. ¡°Are you coming?¡± Morgan scrambled to his feet. ¡°Oh, uh, yeah?¡± He stammered, almost tripping over himself as he caught up to the camraconda. ¡°Let¡¯s not do that again.¡± ¡°Not while you are standing up, at least. I will take time to get used to legs.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said sagely. ¡°Wait, what?¡± Chapter 220 "I''ve never met a priest who could tell you anything about Heaven, but they knew every square inch of Hell. They should. They built it." -Ticker, Warframe- _____ ¡°Oh, pardon me.¡± James brushed past a ratroach with glittering purple fur as he moved through the hall of their LA branch toward his office. Then he let himself think about that for a second before he turned and stopped his momentum with a couple of backward steps. ¡°Uh¡­ Smoke?¡± He guessed at the name of the ratroach he¡¯d just passed, trying to remember which of them had the extra arm that came from their elbow and which had the arm that came from their shoulder. The ratroach cocked her head back at him, the chitin around her neck creaking as she did so. Slowly, she raised one arm to raise at James, the other two held against her chest in a sling. ¡°I have so many questions, and you still can¡¯t talk, can you?¡± James ran a hand down his face. ¡°Why are you purple? No, more important, are you alright? What happened to your arms? Also was there something you needed help with up here? And why am I asking things when you can¡¯t answer me?¡± His words ran into each other. James had made the mistake of rolling out of bed on this miserable Thursday well after Sarah had left their apartment, and so instead of replacing his sleep with her sleep, he had replaced his sleep with sugar and caffeine, and it was starting to really hit him. Smoke looked like his questions were starting to panic her; her mismatched rows of eyes flicking around the open floor of the office as her legs tensed and her good hand clenched into a claw. James noticed immediately, and started to correct himself, but it was one of the other people who were actually doing work up here this afternoon that came to her rescue. ¡°Is this man bothering you, dear?¡± The most business-dressed woman James had ever seen in the Order - and he was counting Karen in that estimation - asked Smoke. James actually recognized her, she was one of the survivors of the Office, though he didn¡¯t know what her role here was. Before he could get distracted by the fact that someone had actually worn a power suit to work here, Smoke shook her head, the ratroach panting deep breaths and covering her mouth with her good paw. James held up his own hands. ¡°Sorry, I got carried away.¡± He met Smoke¡¯s eyes and tipped his head down. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to overwhelm you.¡± The ratroach caught her breath, and curled her paw into a rough approximation of a thumbs up, while the other woman turned to James. ¡°Why are you here, actually? Do you need help finding anything?¡± ¡°I¡­ I have an office here.¡± James said sheepishly. ¡°I¡¯m not missing that often! Come on!¡± He held out a hand to indicate the door to his corner office. The woman glanced at it, then back at him. ¡°That¡¯s Rufus¡¯s office.¡± She stated. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ you¡­ Rufus stole my office?¡± James raised his eyebrows. ¡°I knew he had ambition, I just didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever be the target of it.¡± He joked. ¡°Sorry, hi. I¡¯m James. I work here, also I am reasonably sure I saved your life once but I cannot remember your name and I¡¯m really sorry.¡± The woman took the hand he¡¯d extended and shook it briskly. ¡°Cathy. And yes, I remember. You do know that Rufus uses your office, yes?¡± ¡°We¡¯re talking about the same Rufus, right?¡± James asked with raised eyebrows as Smoke slunk out of sight around the edge of the small hall. ¡°Yay big? Stapler? Nice guy?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Cathy pointed upward without looking to where neatly attached strings of paperclips ran across the ceiling like a secondary walkway. Her finger traced a path to where someone had installed a small secondary glass door in the wall over the main door to James¡¯ office. ¡°He¡¯s very helpful.¡± ¡°I feel like I may not be here often enough.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Anyway. I actually do have a few people who should be here for an orientation thing in twenty minutes or so. So I¡¯m gonna re-steal my office.¡± ¡°Good. Don¡¯t bother my coworker again please.¡± Cathy nodded politely at him. ¡°Oh, she¡¯s working with Recovery now?¡± James couldn¡¯t keep a delighted smile off his face. ¡°That¡¯s good! Um¡­ though¡­ what happened to her arms?¡± Cathy¡¯s stoic demeanor cracked as she winced, wrinkles and laugh lines showing on her face as she glanced behind her. ¡°Nothing, really.¡± She sighed. ¡°The poor girl tripped. And that was enough. She hides it, but we can tell she¡¯s hurting all day.¡± Cathy glanced back at James. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s anything in the works for that?¡± ¡°There might be. I¡¯d check with Deb, but she should already be doing regular checkups on all our new residents. If nothing else, we can work on getting her a string of purples and see if that helps.¡± James thought for a second. ¡°Organizing where orbs go is kind of a giant mess at the moment, but we might have a whole bunch of surplus that we¡¯re never gonna get around to copying in the basement. I just sent Reed a message, I¡¯ll let you know before I leave today if we can at least roll the dice on that.¡± ¡°¡­The plug in the neck is a bit uncomfortable to shower with, but it does seem to be useful, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Cathy said softly, her voice shifting to sympathetic. James smiled at her. ¡°The circumstances aren¡¯t great, but now that they¡¯re ours, it¡¯s pretty cool.¡± He agreed. ¡°Also I can be online all the time, which I¡¯m sure is bad for my brain, but whatever.¡± He glanced past Cathy and the handful of other people at desks, making use of their floor space to get real work done, to where the elevator had just opened. ¡°Ah, I think that¡¯s my first batch. You mind sending them my way?¡± The two of them nodded an amicable goodbye the way coworkers on good terms did, as James stepped back to the door to his office, and watched Cathy take purposeful steps across their shared workspace to greet the four young men who had just stepped off the elevator. The first batch, as he¡¯d mentioned; all farm-grown American muscle and haircuts to match. He had two more groups later, from similar situations from the Indian and Chinese analogues of rural Ohio. James hesitated halfway through his door, a knot of apprehension in his chest as he eyed them going through the first test for new people. There were several camracondas working here today, as well as Smoke, who was in a category all her own up here. And James wasn¡¯t ignorant to the fact that some people, especially in the tight knit group that was Recovery, went about their days networked to each other. The office floor plan was mundane enough, but the presence of small things like the hanging paperclips, the vending machine with more buttons than should physically fit on it, and the eclectic decorations, were the sorts of things that would draw curious looks, even if the nonhuman researchers didn¡¯t. The four men looked confused, but not overtly hostile. As if to drive the point home, a camraconda carrying a printout in their fangs slithered across their path and back to their lowered desk. James clinically observed which of them tensed up, or muttered something to themselves, before he ducked back into his office and took a seat at his desk to wait. He didn¡¯t have long to wait; the office floor wasn¡¯t that large and it wasn¡¯t more than a couple minutes before Cathy had knocked on his door and opened it to show the four in. James greeted them, and motioned to sit, waiting for them to get settled before he talked. Looking over the four young men, he wasn¡¯t quite sure what to feel. On the one hand, he knew, intellectually, that these guys were pushed into unhealthy behaviors by the structure of a culture around them that incentivized it. But they also all looked like the kinds of people who he got bullied by in high school, and suddenly he felt a spike of doubt about his own good intentions. Which was stupid. He¡¯d said everyone when he talked about helping everyone. If he had to get over his own bullshit brain¡¯s ideas sometimes, that was on him. ¡°Afternoon.¡± He started with. ¡°I hope you¡¯ve been having a good vacation so far.¡± They looked at each other, before one of them, a broad shouldered figure with short sandy blonde hair spoke up. ¡°LA¡¯s been cool. The hotel has a huge pool. But, uh¡­¡± He paused, his Midwest accent on hold while he briefly considered what he was going to say. ¡°Sir, why are we¡­¡± ¡°Alright, first thing¡¯s first. I¡¯m James. Just James. Not sir. I get enough of that from everyone else. I want to be up front about the fact that I¡¯m not comfortable with either honorifics, or reinforcements of my gender.¡± James said quickly, punctuating it with a professional smile. ¡°You¡¯re wondering why you, when you¡¯re just a bunch of nobodies, right?¡± One of them scowled at him. One of them had a smug little smirk on his face that made James want to punch him or maybe send him to JP as punishment. Punishment for the dude, or for JP, he wasn¡¯t sure yet. But regardless of how none of them looked pleased, one of the other boys nodded. ¡°Yeah, what do you want from us?¡± His voice had more of a drawl, but still the same kind of tempo as his friend. ¡°Okay. You want the clean answer?¡± James asked, and saw expectation in their faces. ¡°We¡¯re recruiting for something a little different than what you¡¯d all planned for. But the simple version is this; I need people who are tough, adaptable, and smart.¡± He noted that smug smirk guy rolled his eyes, while one of the other¡¯s tried and failed to stay stoic. ¡°Yeah, I know that guy,¡± he pointed across his desk at smirky, ¡°misses at least one of those. But the rest of you fit. Or you could. You might not think it, but someone saw it in you, and that¡¯s why you¡¯re here.¡± James ignored the new scowl pointed his way and leaned back in his chair, resisting the urge to spin in it. ¡°Let me ask you all something. What were you planning to do? With your lives, that is, before you ended up here.¡± ¡°Army, sir.¡± One of them said, before wincing. ¡°Ah, Mr. James.¡± ¡°Navy.¡± Another one said, before getting ¡°Army¡± from the last two. None of them called him sir, at least. ¡°And wouldn¡¯t that just be a fucking waste.¡± James said flatly. ¡°We¡¯d like to offer you a chance to go a different way with your abilities.¡± ¡°What way is that?¡± The blonde kid asked. ¡°And why does this sound illegal?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s probably illegal, though our lawyer hasn¡¯t been able to tell me how yet.¡± James said. ¡°And as for what we want, well. Initially, we want to hire you for security roles. You¡¯ll be given the skills and enhancements needed to fit that, and will essentially be hired in the capacity of bodyguards. But in general, our organization is somewhat chaotic with job titles and roles within our structure, and it¡¯s likely that within three months, you¡¯ll either know if you want to move to something else, or commit to a longer period with that role.¡± ¡°So you want us to be soldiers.¡± ¡°Ehhhhhh¡­¡± James wobbled a hand in front of him face. ¡°We want you to be capable. But I don¡¯t expect you to fight a war for me, or get shot. Actually, with the exception of my dumb ass, we¡¯re pretty good at not getting shot these days.¡± His mouth twitched in a flickering grin as he turned to address one of the young men. ¡°Yeah, I see that disbelief you got going on there. Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°You¡¯re still being weird about this.¡± The first guy stated. ¡°And¡­ cryptic?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a bad habit. Okay, here¡¯s the deal. We¡¯re an organization of people with access to literal magic, we want to build a better world, some people might want to stop us. We need more people to keep expanding our operations, and you guys are a good opportunity, because your life prospects suck.¡± He leaned forward, a dark look on his face. ¡°I¡¯m going to be completely straight with you here. The reason we picked you? It¡¯s because you had literally no good options. And so it makes it really easy for us to swoop in and offer you a great option.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fucked up.¡± ¡°Well yeah. But is it more fucked up than the fact that two of you were straight A students, two of you already know how to run a farm singlehanded, and one of you wrote a screenplay?¡± James didn¡¯t pause to explain how he knew that. ¡°And you¡¯re all going into the military?¡± ¡°Maybe I just wanna shoot stuff.¡± One of them said defiantly. ¡°Alright. Then get out.¡± James said flatly. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for your shit here. Though I suspect you¡¯re just being an asshole to provoke me.¡± He snorted a non-laugh. ¡°Can I ask a question?¡± Blondie asked, partly raising his hand. ¡°Got for it.¡± ¡°What¡¯s with the snake drones?¡± James blinked. ¡°Oh. They¡¯re people.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m disingenuously sorry if that was confusing. I kind of figured when I said ¡®literal magic¡¯ that it would have explained that. We have¡­ uh¡­ between six to nine different species under our banner, depending on if you count engineers as human.¡± ¡°No you fucking don¡¯t.¡± One of them said, sounding angry, like his time had been wasted. James just nodded politely. ¡°Alright, so¡­ I know this isn¡¯t a traditional job interview, but typically you don¡¯t wanna just say that out loud until afterward? Just as a heads up. Anyway. The snakes are called camracondas.¡± ¡°They¡¯re people?¡± The first kid asked. ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°Like¡­ people people?¡± ¡°I have no idea what that¡¯s supposed to mean.¡± James admitted bluntly. ¡°But it sounds pretty bad when you say it that way.¡± ¡°Are they, you know, human or something?¡± ¡°¡­No? They¡¯re camracondas.¡± James narrowed his eyes. ¡°This is going worse than I expected.¡± He sighed. ¡°Look, here¡¯s the deal. You¡¯re already vetted, this isn¡¯t much of an interview; if you say yes, you can have a three month trial run with us, which you will be fully paid for. If you don¡¯t like it, afterward, you can dip out. Otherwise, you just¡­ keep going. Our pay is decent, and we essentially pay bonuses for responsibilities you take on within the organization. The only qualifier is that if there¡¯s too many interpersonal problems with you, you¡¯re out. There¡¯s a whole section in the operations manual about expected behavior, for reference.¡± ¡°What if¡­¡± the smug guy started slowly, ¡°we don¡¯t actually think you have magic, and that sounds really fucking stupid?¡± James sighed. ¡°Zhu?¡± He asked. ¡°An assist please.¡± He closed his eyes, letting Zhu pivot a small part of his mind to remembering the feeling of forward motion, wind streaming past from the open window next to his head. The feeling of feathers ticking along his neck and chin reached him, more real than memory, and James opened his eyes as Zhu finished manifesting, the solid orange light of his form carpeting James¡¯ shoulder and left arm in a layered feathered limb. ¡°I can also blow up your phones by thinking about it, but I figured this was more polite.¡± James said. ¡°And less expensive.¡± Zhu added in his voice like tires on gravel. ¡°Fewer dead maps.¡± ¡°Google Maps doesn¡¯t actually literally die when I break a phone, come on.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°The maps are still in the cloud or something.¡± ¡°It is rude.¡± Zhu prodded him. ¡°Sure.¡± James looked up to the four young men, half of whom were pressed back in their chairs, one of them leaning forward, all of them with wide and curious eyes. Even the snarky asshole, who, really, James couldn¡¯t blame; he¡¯d been the same way at that age. ¡°Three months. Five grand a month as a training rate. No long term obligations, enforced service, and you get to keep a lot of the magic.¡± They tripped over themselves to say yes. James covered the ground rules with them in rapid succession. Kindness was the dominant emotion that they built their foundation on, inhumanity was no excuse for hostility, and cooperation was the word of the day. Do good, recklessly, and understand that this meant that sometimes you¡¯d be cleaning up your own fuckups to do more good. When they¡¯d had questions, one of them had asked about if this was dangerous, and he¡¯d been honest about the fact that they didn¡¯t need security personnel because it was safe. And also that they¡¯d taken losses in the past. The kid had asked if there was some way to set it up so his dad got his paycheck, to handle medical bills, and when James got the details of the situation, he¡¯d cryptically told the new recruit that they could maybe help with the cancer, too. ¡°Alright.¡± He said after they¡¯d signed the papers and gotten the basics hashed out. ¡°If you¡¯re up for starting now, you can check in with Nate or one of his people downstairs.¡± He paused, holding his office door open for the group, and reached out a hand to shake with each of them. ¡°Welcome to the Order of Endless Rooms.¡± ¡°Wait, hang on, you guys own this whole building?¡± ¡°No.¡± James said. Another one of them looked like he was trying not to laugh himself. ¡°That¡¯s kind of a weird name, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Take the stairwell door next to the elevator.¡± James said with a mischievous smile. ¡°The one on the right. Let me know how the name feels after you get downstairs.¡± _____ ¡°They¡¯re not the worst or anything.¡± James was talking to Alanna, the two of them using their skulljacks and the Lair¡¯s wifi to talk to each other in a way more intimate than any phone call could ever be, as if they were not just next to each other, but literally inside each other¡¯s heads. It wasn¡¯t a perfect system, as he¡¯d noticed when he¡¯d gotten in the elevator and gotten a kind of packet-loss-induced headache. But it was something weirdly more casual than calling his partner; it was more like being in the same room as they did their own thing, and knew they could talk whenever they felt like it, if they did. It also helped that Anesh could slip in whenever he wanted, too. Anesh and Sarah, actually; their friend had an open invitation, but was still skittish around the skulljacks. In a spatially displaced basement, Alanna closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair in Response¡¯s break room, waiting for when she and her partner were needed for the day. ¡°That¡¯s a pretty big qualifier.¡± She spoke into James¡¯ thoughts. ¡°Bah.¡± He sent back as he navigated the Research basement. ¡°I just mean¡­ I dunno what I mean. I guess I kinda got used to us, and the whole conversation was just slightly jarring. They aren¡¯t instantly accepting, they aren¡¯t¡­ I mean, they¡¯ve just got some pretty shitty attitudes about some things.¡± ¡°They¡¯re teenagers.¡± Alanna countered. ¡°I challenge you,¡± James riposted, ¡°to tell me that, as a teenager, you wouldn¡¯t have been all-in on living with nonhuman life.¡± ¡°I mean, I wanted to live with you and Sarah as soon as we were out of high school, so I think that¡¯s obvious.¡± Alanna shot back. James barked out a physical laugh, then sheepishly ducked his head as a passing girl hauling a heavy crate shot him a weird look. ¡°Okay, that got me.¡± He told Alanna. ¡°I¡¯m just iffy about this. We¡¯ve got twenty new people, every one of them took the offer, and they all make me uncomfortable. I just have this grim suspicion that I¡¯m going to end up punching someone through a wall after I hear a slur for the ratroaches, you know?¡± ¡°Still need a better name!¡± She tangented off onto a new line of thought. ¡°I kinda want to go with chimera, but that seems weird. Like it doesn¡¯t fit.¡± The weird and new part of talking through skulljacks was that Alanna¡¯s nod came across, as well as her thoughts. ¡°Yeah, and they aren¡¯t half family dog.¡± ¡°Oh my god, you¡¯re the worst.¡± James¡¯ reply practically overlapped his second sentence of ¡°And I love you.¡± ¡°What about ¡®amaglams¡¯?¡± Alanna didn¡¯t even wait for a reply, her thoughts running into each other much like James¡¯ did. ¡°No, that sounds dumb, and makes them seem like they¡¯re¡­ uh¡­ just kinda slapped together? Which I guess they are. Also I hate the Sewer, in case I hadn¡¯t said that today.¡± ¡°At least we¡¯ve gotten some of its victims out.¡± James sighed as he signed into their server room and went through the process of turning off all the different magical programs that were running and giving him immunities to things. He¡¯d forgotten to do it after leaving the Climb, and he needed to be better about it so that other people could make use of the resource they had. He didn¡¯t stop talking to Alanna while he went through the quiet process. ¡°Anyway. I dunno, I¡¯m still worried about the new guys. Nate¡¯s plan sounds good on paper, but I dunno if it¡¯s actually gonna work.¡± ¡°Hey, I mean, if it means that we¡¯re getting more Response teammates, that¡¯s cool.¡± Alanna sent him a shrug as she bit her lip and carefully aimed an overhand lob of her coffee cup into the garbage can from across the room. She opted not to share the feeling of missing an easy shot with her boyfriend. ¡°Wait, are we?¡± ¡°Not at first.¡± James stepped back out to the hall, reflexively catching it with his foot as it swung closed so it wouldn¡¯t slam. ¡°They¡¯re getting an orientation, a bunch of relevant skill orbs, and assignment as backup to some of our rogues who are going to be doing more active security. They might swap later, but right now, we need to be more proactive about our own defense.¡± James shrugged to the empty hall as he walked. ¡°Also I think Recovery needs more people anyway. They¡¯ve been working a lot more than I thought, and Karen¡¯s doing that thing where she¡¯s trying to be frugal despite the fact that we can print money.¡± There was a long pause, and James wondered if Alanna had gotten called away or something, despite her presence in his mind still being active. Then her words slipped into his thoughts again. ¡°We designed a compressed space explicitly to easily duplicate mundane material! Why the fuck aren¡¯t we just copying money.¡± She demanded. ¡°Also, what does Recovery actually do these days?¡± ¡°Oh. Counterfeiting stuff I guess. Also something about intrinsic value? Eh.¡± James mentally swatted the question away, a slight fog clouding his thoughts as he failed to grasp the quick answer that he knew he should know. ¡°As for Recovery, they do¡­ a lot.¡± He rapidly compiled a mental list, and pushed it over to her in a format that was easy to process. ¡°They work with victims of dungeons to put their lives back, they manage scheduling for therapy and support groups, they handle a lot of our medical functions, including being the ones that the cancer cure distribution goes through. They don¡¯t actually include the group of people who are going really, really deep on skulljack uses, or our accounting or legal departments, but there¡¯s a lot of overlap so it¡¯s kind of a blurred line. And I think Karen kind of has the pulse of all of those different things.¡± ¡°For some reason, I thought Recovery and Research had overlap.¡± Alanna mused. James hummed at her across their connection. ¡°They do, in a way? Like, Research¡¯s job is to take the magic we have and figure out how it works and what it does. What the limits are. That¡¯s broad, but functionally their directive. Oh! And then they¡¯re supposed to take what they learn and communicate it effectively. Recovery tends to take that information, and figure out how to convert it into help.¡± ¡°Okay, but like, what ¡®bout arms?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Camraconda arms, I mean. Or¡­ I guess we could probably make some pretty fucking cool arms for people who are missing limbs, couldn¡¯t we? With the skulljack port for¡­ huh. Should we be doing that?¡± ¡°Maybe. Also like I said, it¡¯s a grey area. Our whole structure is chaotic and messy, and we really only work because we¡¯ve got people who actually have the job of going around and making connections and solving problems.¡± He leaned on the corner of the hall, staying out of the way as he paused and finished his conversation before getting back to what he was here for. ¡°And then we¡¯ve got Response, which¡­¡± Alanna shot him an overlapped thought, ¡°why are all our divisions R-words?¡± She reset to the first sentence, ¡°Response, which I guess overlaps with both of them, huh? Recovery to help victims put their lives back, Research for the tools we use¡­ okay, neat. Though we still need way more people if we¡¯re ever gonna successfully replace the police, I gotta say. So get back to hiring!¡± ¡°First off, you¡¯re not my boss!¡± James playfully dropped the words into her mind. ¡°Second off, uh¡­ the Response-Research-Recovery thing was a coincidence at first, I think? Then Momo decided she wanted to call her branch of Research ¡®Ritual¡¯ and made it worse on purpose. Oh, and JP convincing Nate to call our intelligence branch Rogues, because the title we use for active threat-management personnel is Knight, just made it worse, and¡­ ugh.¡± He shook his head with an exasperated smile as he watched a trio of shellaxies in their pen in the middle of the Research hub area scramble up over the rock that someone had put there, their corded mass of legs dragging their shells forward as they raced to get to a handful of yellow orbs that had been dropped in for their lunch. ¡°Oh, also, Response isn¡¯t a police replacement.¡± He added. ¡°What?¡± Alanna asked. On her end, someone signaled her, and she kicked herself to a standing position instantly. ¡°Also I gotta go soon, talk fast.¡± She said as she and Smoke-And-Ember checked their low-threat gear load out and got ready to get a telepad destination. ¡°You ready?¡± She asked the camraconda in her speaking voice. ¡°Set to act.¡± Smoke-And-Ember nodded. ¡°Finish your conversation.¡± ¡°Okay, quick answer.¡± James tried to infodump as fast as he could. ¡°Also we can talk later tonight. But basically, we¡¯re not gonna change things with just us. So Response isn¡¯t meant to be a systemic replacement. We can do three things: One, help. Two, we can train the first generation of peacekeepers for our own place when we make it. And three, we can shove an example front and center of how other police can do better. That¡¯s it. We can help, and be a good example, and be passive aggressive about it. Or maybe just aggressive. I dunno.¡± ¡°Huh. Okay, neat. Also I gotta go.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Countdown?¡± She offered, and then she and James ran through a rapid three-two-one before they both broke their minds apart. They¡¯d gotten the advice from some of the Office survivors who had said it helped with the disorientation, and it really did seem to work. ¡°Alright.¡± She reached out and set a hand on Smoke-And-Ember¡¯s head, grabbed the telepad Marcus had just finished writing on and was handing her. ¡°What do we have?¡± ¡°Home intrusion, seems like impersonal burglary. Don¡¯t be too mean.¡± Marcus said. Alanna grinned as she tore the page and vanished with the camraconda. In the Research basement, James blinked as his girlfriend cut away the connection and headed off to do something useful, while he resigned himself to similarly doing something useful, but exhausting. He passed by a pair of faces he didn¡¯t recognize, and a handful that he did, all deeply focused on whatever they were working on at their desks. A couple of them had one of the camraconda motorized arm packs half-disassembled, rigorously noting problem spots, someone was entering a batch of new potions into inventory, and another had a desk covered in circuit boards that made use of the emerald chips that grew programs over time. Almost everyone had something plugged into their skulljack, the kind of people who got really excited for what that technology represented being highly drawn to the Research basement one way or another. Eventually, without getting too distracted by the friendly shellaxies that lived here and who were really energetic today in demanding affection, James made it past the main floor, down a narrow concrete access hallway, and to the locked and protected room where the Order kept the really dangerous stuff. So far, ¡°the really dangerous stuff¡± was basically just the collected writings of the insane cult leader mechanic who had slaughtered a whole town in an attempt at apotheosis, and also the loot drops of all the fallen Order members that they had been able to collect. The latter, they didn¡¯t know what to do with as they didn¡¯t have real consent from any of those people to test things, and the former, they just kind of didn¡¯t want being used again. Mostly. Sort of. At the semicircular desk outside the sealed room, in an alcove that shouldn¡¯t have fit in the space, sat Davis. The older man, looking incredibly good for his age, wasn¡¯t doing much of anything aside from sipping at a mug of something hot, and watching through the security glass window of their new vault. ¡°Hey.¡± James greeted him with a wave. ¡°Well well well! Look who¡¯s finally come down to our secret hideout!¡± Davis said with a grin. ¡°Here to visit Reed?¡± He gestured with his mug toward the window. ¡°First off, that¡¯s a great way to keep people from coming back and oh I see you know that.¡± James nodded as he caught Davis¡¯ amused expression. ¡°Great. Well, I¡¯m here to talk to you, actually. Wait, why¡¯s Reed here?¡± James finished approaching and leaned on the desk, turning to see what Davis had motioned to. Inside the secure room, Reed had arranged the loose sheets of note paper around a table and was moving between them, his fingers alternating between tapping on things he focused on, and unconsciously curling and yanking on bits of his hair in frustration. ¡°Has he finally gone mad?¡± James asked without any real concern. Davis snorted. ¡°Probably. He says he thinks he can build a ¡®dungeon detector¡¯.¡± Davis did not elaborate further. ¡°What do you need me for?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ actually I¡¯m now intently curious what the fuck Reed is doing, but okay, I¡¯ll talk to him later¡­¡± James tore his eyes away from the view of his beleaguered peer through the wire mesh of the security glass. Pushing himself back, he addressed Davis in a less casual way. ¡°I¡¯m here to check in on how the Alchemists are doing, before I make a decision.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± James nodded. ¡°Not a terrifying life altering decision, to be clear. It¡¯s just that Red and Nile asked to explore some of the other dungeons, and I¡¯m curious if I should approve that.¡± Davis cleared his throat with a harsh noise, as he set his drink down with contradictory smooth grace. ¡°Well, what do you want to know?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start!¡± James threw his hands up with a short laugh. ¡°What do I even ask here? Obviously we¡¯ve talked about them repeatedly in check-ins, but this feels different. So¡­ okay, let¡¯s start with a basic check-in, actually.¡± That put the conversation back on familiar ground, and Davis nodded as he dropped into the pattern of his report. ¡°Amelia, Red, she¡¯s doing¡­ fine. The woman is still a workaholic, and doesn¡¯t want to talk with anyone else unless it¡¯s about curing Parkinson¡¯s, which is her latest fixation. Emotionally, well, she¡¯s been going to therapy, but she keeps quiet. Asked for a few red orbs last week, and for once it wasn¡¯t to try to turn them into a potion, so I okayed it. It¡¯s not that she doesn¡¯t feel anything, though, it¡¯s that she just doesn¡¯t prioritize it, and she¡¯s got a lifetime of hiding everything.¡± ¡°That sounds familiar.¡± James said without thinking. ¡°Hey, piss off, kid.¡± Davis grinned. ¡°But you¡¯re right. It¡¯s the same as for a lot of our members in my respectful age bracket. Worse for her, because you know that if she ever did react, she¡¯d get jumped on for being ¡®excitable¡¯ or ¡®unstable¡¯. So she got cold instead. But she¡¯s not evil, and she¡¯s¡­ well, she¡¯s working on herself. Progress continues.¡± ¡°What about Nile and Tigres?¡± ¡°Tigres isn¡¯t doing well. Mentally or physically.¡± Davis said. ¡°He¡¯s eighty years old, though he doesn¡¯t look it, and his heart and liver are kaput. Deb wants to talk about getting him a backup heart, but he doesn¡¯t give a damn. He¡¯s given up. Doesn¡¯t think he can ever do enough to make up for his part in things, and doesn¡¯t care that we don¡¯t see it that way. Nile¡¯s¡­ well, William¡¯s not depressed. Your girl says he doesn¡¯t feel right, but I could have told you that. He¡¯s an ass, and he thinks he¡¯s better than this, better than everyone around him, and yet, he¡¯s still making progress.¡± James suppressed a sigh with a wince. ¡°I¡¯d heard about Tigres. I don¡¯t¡­ you know what? Let¡¯s focus on the two that I¡¯m here for, so I don¡¯t dive into existential dread today.¡± ¡°Sure. That a problem for you?¡± ¡°Endlessly.¡± James turned to lean on the desk and face away from Davis. ¡°So. How are Nile and Red doing, overall, with our culture?¡± ¡°Oh, they hate it.¡± Davis said bluntly. ¡°Not entirely, but enough. Remember, these are people who are used to employing housekeepers and eating four star meals every day. And sure, we get paid, but they¡¯re really, really bitter about the fact that they see it as being paid back their own money.¡± James tipped his head back to stare at the cracked concrete of the ceiling. ¡°To be fair, we did essentially take everything from them. Financially.¡± He paused. ¡°What do they want? Like, not what do they want in terms of liquid assets, don¡¯t answer that. I mean, what would make them embrace our culture more?¡± ¡°I think a lot of what they think they¡¯re missing is actually just the effects of wealth, not the wealth itself.¡± Davis tapped a pen on the desk as he answered. ¡°They want to feel important. Status symbols like fancy cars and mansions were how they showed it off. But also, they miss all the little comforts, like eighty year old scotch and dinners with french names and living in the foothills isolated from prying eyes.¡± ¡°I refuse to believe you didn¡¯t write that answer in advance.¡± James quipped, and then felt a spike of discomfort as Davis just ignored the joke and stared at him. ¡°Okay. So, they want¡­ what, to feel special? And they don¡¯t care that they¡¯re brewing cancer cures, or what?¡± ¡°Well, Amelia¡¯s self-actualized enough to be satisfied with the work itself, emotionally. Nile want¡¯s other people to think he¡¯s special, though. He looked at money as a way to keep score, and he was winning. Now he¡¯s not.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± James thought. ¡°You know, we¡¯re obviously not ¡®fixing¡¯ the wealth issue for them, but we can hit the creature comfort thing. Like, we could change how we do food around here; there¡¯s a couple ideas for improved selection and quality that¡¯ve just sorta been on the back burner. We already do a whole ¡®even split of magic but you can trade for stuff¡¯ thing for most people, we could just formalize getting an orange-enhanced apartment that¡¯s the size of Texas. And, I dunno, we¡¯re probably not gonna be figuring out time dilation anytime soon, so hundred year aged scotch is off the table, but maybe just tell Nile his new project is coming up with some kind of fancy liquor potion?¡± ¡°Those are all terrifying thoughts.¡± Davis told him. ¡°But I¡¯m willing to try, as long as I don¡¯t have to test the potion.¡± ¡°You know you literally never have to test the potions.¡± James said. ¡°Especially since a lot of them are not healthy.¡± He silently mourned for the growing number of lab rats that had given their lives in the line of duty for alchemical progress. ¡°RIV noble rats.¡± He muttered, less silently. ¡°Anyway. Back on topic. Red and Nile, for some reason, think that dungeon delving will make them better alchemists. You know anything about this?¡± ¡°Of course. I wrote the paper on it.¡± Davis said. ¡°There¡¯s a direct correlation between time spent inside dungeons, and¡­ call it instinct, maybe. The ability of the individual to perform a few different tasks. Recognizing dungeontech is one of them, but also more specifically, absorbing blue orbs, and communicating with infomorphs. The basic principle is repeatably provable, we¡¯re just waiting on budgeting people and time to isolate variables and test more thoroughly.¡± James refrained from opening the file right away with his skulljack, and instead just tilted his head to give Davis a side eyed look. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna tell you right now, you¡¯re gonna need more depth on this than you think. Because I can¡¯t feel the Winter¡¯s Climb magic items, but Arrush can.¡± ¡°There¡­ aren¡¯t any dungeontech items from the Climb?¡± Davis let himself get sidetracked. ¡°We¡¯ve got some objects retrieved, but no one has been able to determine any effects from them.¡± ¡°Huh. Okay. Well, that¡¯s weird too. My point is mostly that I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you need to fine tune which dungeon enhances which aware¡­ness¡­ hang on, are we actually leveling up?¡± He turned and placed his palms on the desk, leaning forward with sudden enthusiasm. Davis raised his pen and placed it on James¡¯ forehead, pushing him backward. ¡°You¡¯re not the first person to say that, and I refuse to comment.¡± He said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. The point is, Nile and Red want to go delving.¡± ¡°Do you think they should?¡± James asked, easing off on his excitement. ¡°Nile seems¡­ well, like he¡¯s still an ass.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not very sociable, no.¡± Davis said diplomatically. ¡°But you actually want my opinion? Yeah. You should let them. Though with a heavy escort. Like I said, they¡¯re in great shape for our age, but they¡¯re not up for a fight. Red just wants her work to do great things, and Nile wants¡­ well, what he wants is stupid. But what he needs is people. Kid, I¡¯ve done three delves, and then swore if off forever, and I still keep in touch with the people who I went in with. And not just because we all work here. Best case, you give that antisocial jackass some people he can connect with. Worse case, he dies, and he¡¯s not our problem anymore.¡± ¡°Jesus Christ.¡± James bit out, caught off guard by Davis¡¯ casual hostility. ¡°Also, if it works the way they want?¡± Davis shrugged, tugging at the shoulder of his grey college alumni sweatshirt. ¡°Well, then we get people who have a lot of experience working with the sap of knowledge, who are now even better at it, who are making potions for us. Seems like a win for everyone.¡± James nodded, pressing his fingertips together as he sucked in a breath. ¡°Okay, so, I should make my concern clear.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Often times, on delves, one or more of the delvers will end up with innate, non-transferable skills or powers. Some of these have, traditionally, been absurdly dangerous. I guess what I¡¯m asking here is; if we gave these two a rocket launcher, would they point it back at us to get what they wanted?¡± ¡°Red? No. She¡¯s pragmatic. Nile might, but I think even he would think twice about it at this point. He¡¯s¡­ well. I keep saying he¡¯s an ass, and I mean it, don¡¯t get me wrong kid. But he¡¯s not evil. Not¡­ not maliciously evil. He did evil because he was stupid and shortsighted and a few other words I won¡¯t say in polite company-¡° ¡°Don¡¯t you call me that.¡± ¡°-but he wasn¡¯t anything worse than someone who didn¡¯t care who their business hurt, as long as the business was profitable. That¡¯s it. He doesn¡¯t have any opinions or ideology for you to fight.¡± Davis gave another rapid burst of taps from his pen. ¡°Have you talked to him yet?¡± ¡°I was waiting to see if I should.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯s on my to-do list if you think this is a good idea.¡± ¡°I think you should.¡± Davis said with a flat look. ¡°But I also think he¡¯s never going to get better if we don¡¯t give him a little trust on this.¡± James gnawed at his lip, looking back at the sealed room that Reed was still pacing around the table in. ¡°He wants to be recognized, huh?¡± He said. ¡°So, why not just do that, right? Let him know that we see that he¡¯s working with us, in the language he knows how to speak.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kind of a dramatic way to put it, but you do you.¡± Davis said in a dry voice. ¡°You need anything else from me today?¡± He asked, bringing his still-steaming mug back up to his mouth. ¡°Any new potions I should know about since I¡¯m actually bad at sorting through this whole floor¡¯s chaotic mess of reports?¡± James asked. Davis met his eyes with the disappointed look of someone who was being academically judgemental. But he still answered anyway. ¡°The luck potion doesn¡¯t actually work in a repeatable way, the fertilizer potion we¡¯re still working on ironing the kinks out of, there¡¯s two that we don¡¯t know the effects of that are safe but still going through trials, and two that are fairly useless unless you want your fingernails to be opalescent or your saliva to taste like whipped cream.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Taste like, or actually be?¡± James narrowed his eyes. ¡°Taste like.¡± ¡°Then no, I do not have a use for that.¡± Davis opened his mouth like he was about to ask a question, then thought better of it, and shook his head, angling his mug to point James away from his desk. ¡°Get out of here. You¡¯ve got better things to do than entertain me.¡± ¡°Yeah, uh¡­ do you want a book or something?¡± ¡°Got one.¡± Davis tapped the back of his neck, getting a nod back from James, who waved over his shoulder as he headed back out to try to see if he remembered the layout of the hallways here or if he was going to do another two loops of the whole giant basement before he found the elevator again. _____ James went through the process of double checking the attitudes and consent of new recruit batches another two times, adding another seven people to their temporary roster and bringing the Order up to¡­ well, more people than before. He had a hard time keeping track of the number. There was a document somewhere, he was sure, and he was reasonably confident they had over two hundred humans at this point. A large chunk of them were still the survivors of Officium Mundi, but more and more, they were adding new people to their operations. Whether that was through JP¡¯s cryptic method of finding new reconnaissance helpers, the assimilation of other vaguely magic groups, adding in survivors of other horrible events, just regular hiring, or their recruitment of new semi-official allies through their cancer cure distribution program. The Order was growing. Response, especially, was hungry for new people. James may have told Alanna that they weren¡¯t trying to actually replace the police anymore, but Harvey sure didn¡¯t stop pushing just as hard. And with them doing everything from conflict resolution to search and rescue, Response was eager to get new minds trained up to join them. Human or otherwise. No one in the Order was averse to working with nonhumans at this point; everyone who was got a long conversation about their behavior and how to fix it, and if they didn¡¯t, they got the boot. It had only happened a couple of times so far, but James especially had basically no interest in humoring racists. He also felt it was important to be blunt about the fact that those people were racist, and that their presence wouldn¡¯t be missed. Camracondas and ratroaches kept being added to their ranks in ones and twos. Every new delve was a chance to kidnap them away from their forced servitude or abusive warrens and into the clean, compassionate world of the Order. And it was kidnapping; James also refused to shy away from the truth of it. The Order, and he personally, were making a value judgment here about how people should live, including people that weren¡¯t like them. And he didn¡¯t care. Every time a camraconda found something they had a passion for, or a ratroach got to eat a meal without being afraid, he saw that as a complete win. They didn¡¯t have more of whatever Ben was, though. James still needed to talk to the¡­ Ben¡­ about how to best accommodate the somewhat unique life that had joined up recently. And they also didn¡¯t have more stapler crabs that were quite as smart as Rufus. Apparently, the little creatures didn¡¯t seem to have an upper limit on mental growth; they just all tended to die before it mattered. Which was kind of grim, and also said a lot about just how absurdly lucky James and Rufus had both gotten to have met each other. And now, Rufus was repaying that luck by giving James a new problem. Currently, James was eating lunch, and stressing out about the upcoming semi-planned meeting with Harlan, among other things, when Rufus found him. The stapler, who apparently didn¡¯t have a physical growth limit either and was now the size of a housecat, slowly lowering himself down from the ceiling onto James¡¯ table. James just watched silently, trying to keep his expression stoically unimpressed as he chewed. Eventually, Rufus dropped the last half foot with a chitinous scratching as he got his legs under him and stood up, dusting off one of his forelimbs with another jointed ballpoint pen leg before he made sure that the small satchel he had on his flank was still in place. Then he looked up at James and blinked once. ¡°Hey.¡± James said easily. Rufus waved back, having been acknowledged, and then started pulling documents out of his bag to lay out on the table in front of James. ¡°You know,¡± James said as he quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped a drop of some kind of sauce off the surface before Rufus dropped his documentation into it, ¡°I have an office, if this is a business meeting.¡± He waited for Rufus to stop what he was doing and look up at him with an equally unimpressed eye. ¡°Apparently we share an office, actually.¡± James couldn¡¯t finish his sentence without cracking a smile, his facade falling away in an instant. The species Rufus was a part of didn¡¯t have any kind of natural reaction that equated to laughter. But that didn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t feel humor, and he¡¯d found a way to express it. Rapid dragging taps of his forelegs on the table acting as a good signifier that he both got and appreciated the joke. ¡°Okay, seriously.¡± James pushed his lunch away and tried to let go of the dozen half-baked plans for upgrading how they did communal food without equally upscaling food waste. ¡°What¡¯cha got here?¡± He looked over what Rufus had brought him. A lot of it was printouts of things James was aware of, and in one case had written himself, most of it revolving around the Clutter Ascent life form of ¡®stuff animals¡¯. Whatever amalgamation of different real world creature parts that Fredrick was, he wasn¡¯t unique. Not exactly, anyway. The Attic dungeon had made more things like him, though with varying mixes of the component parts. A little less raccoon, a little more salamander, usually the same amount of spider. The stuff animals grew up on a relatively rapid scale, up to a certain point. Apparently they did get spawned as ¡®infants¡¯, and while that meant something different than it did for a human, they still had what amounted to a rapid childhood. Up to the point that their growth slowed down, and their mental development leveled out to be something more like a human teenager. From what Fredrick shared, the process was deeply confusing, but amounted to what felt like chunk of knowledge exploding in his mind until he knew what he was ¡®supposed to¡¯ as a foundation. How to use his body, how to communicate, how to read, how to appreciate art. The phrase ¡°like a human teenager¡± was something that could be terrifying on its own, really. But in this case, because they hadn¡¯t actually been around for that long, no one knew what their life cycle was like, or even what their natural lifespan would be. If dungeon life even had lifespans. As it stood, they had about twenty young stuff animals, all of them about to plateau in their physical growth, along with reaching the phase when their minds stopped unfolding. And that¡¯s where the last thing Rufus had brought him came up. ¡°So, you want to fold them into the youth groups?¡± He asked, raising his eyebrows at Rufus over the page he was holding up to read. The stapler raised a pen in agreement. ¡°That makes sense. They¡¯re basically kids. Fuck, we really need to get a proper school set up. If we start now, we could probably have that ready to go by this September. Karen will murder me with whatever psychic powers she has if she hears me say that, but come on, we¡¯re us, right?¡± He asked it rhetorically, but Rufus gave vigorous agreement. ¡°Anyway. Yeah. So, what¡¯re you thinking here? Or rather, is there a reason that we shouldn¡¯t just mix them in normally?¡± Rufus thought about it, then started tapping bits of the operations manual report on their species, specifically parts about development cycles and relative age, before referring to part of his own printed request. James nodded. ¡°Right. I get that. But like, how do you determine when one of them goes from fitting into the 9-12 group, to fitting into the 13-15 group? Because it¡¯s not going to be ¡®three years of time¡¯, and I think we both know that.¡± He leaned back as Rufus mimicked the motion on the tabletop. ¡°Actually this is kind of a problem for forming long term social bonds, huh? Like, if a stuff animal only needs a year at the lower age group, before moving on, that¡­ that keeps them from making friends at the rate that humans do?¡± He tapped his chin. ¡°Am I being too human centric here with this? Is this just something with no good solution, that we should¡­ let happen? What are we prioritizing here exactly?¡± ¡°Lunch.¡± Said a voice to James¡¯ left, and he startled as he twitched his gaze sideways to see the familiar coils of Frequency-Of-Sunlight approaching, setting a pair of plates on the table with the mechanical arms she was wearing. Behind the serpentine girl, Deb pulled over one of the camraconda specific chairs, before claiming her own seat next to Frequency. ¡°You mind if we join you?¡± She asked James a little late, leaning sideways to plant a quick kiss on Frequency before turning back and attacking her salad with the alacrity of a med school intern. ¡°I mean, no, but also usually people ask that before sitting.¡± James said. ¡°This is faster and we know you¡¯ll say yes anyway.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said. Then she stopped, freezing up in a stiff motion as if another camraconda had just locked her in their gaze. ¡°Wait. No. That is wrong. May we sit here? I should not assume.¡± James gave her an appreciative smile. ¡°You¡¯re fine. I woulda said yes anyway, but also thanks.¡± He glanced at Deb who was eating like she had somewhere to be. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°Mmmmphy.¡± Deb said, unintelligibly before swallowing heavily. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot going on, I¡¯m having a nice lunch with the person I love so she won¡¯t worry that I¡¯m not eating, and then I am going to run back to monitoring ratroach vitals from the new rescues to make sure no one dies because Aaron cannot be trusted.¡± ¡°Really?¡± James asked. ¡°Yes!¡± Frequency said cheerfully, her skulljack connected speaker system not requiring her to stop talking just because her mouth was full. ¡°It is me! I am the person she loves. And who is making her eat lunch so she does not wither and die which is a thing humans do?¡± ¡°That¡¯s true, yes, but I meant you not trusting your head nurse.¡± James clarified, pointing at Deb, and getting a backup point from Rufus who also wanted to know what was up with that. She made some kind of aggressive growl around a forkful of tomato. ¡°He¡¯s not bad or anything, but he is¡­ uh¡­¡± She trailed off, staring into space. ¡°You don¡¯t have a real complaint, do you?¡± James asked with a small smirk. ¡°You¡¯re just doing that thing I used to do where you feel like you should be involved with everything and you can¡¯t delegate.¡± He accused her. ¡°Mmph.¡± Deb said diplomatically. Next to her, Frequency-Of-Sunlight shifted her coils and dexterously rubbed the end of her tail across the back of Deb¡¯s scrubs. ¡°Anyway, I actually was gonna find you later, so this works.¡± James started, before quickly inserting, ¡°Apologies for making your lunch about business. But how¡¯s the stuff going on fixing the ratroach biology? And shaper substance tests in general.¡± Deb¡¯s eyes practically gleamed as she perked up at the question. It made James double take, as he leaned in to peer at her. ¡°Wait, what¡¯s with your eyes?¡± ¡°They are fascinating, yes?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said, laying her head on the table and staring adoringly up at Deb, who tilted her head away from both of them. ¡°Purple effect. Not important.¡± She said, looking like she was doing her best to avoid clamping her eyelids shut out of embarrassment. ¡°So, shaper substance. Trials are looking good. We¡¯ve managed to determine component sources for the overwhelming pain, and at least a couple can be dealt with. Though it gets a bit silly in places. For example, one of the problems is that organ failure sets in rather quickly as the now-malleable body loses coherency. This reverts after the substance is used up, but focusing on keeping your lungs working while making changes to your own biology isn¡¯t possible for most people. So we¡¯ve gone back to our old standby of posthypnotic suggestion. Which, can I just say, it¡¯s weird that we have a dozen people with multiple skill ranks in that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that weird.¡± James said defensively, before Rufus swatted him on the back of his hand with the tip of one of his pen legs. ¡°Okay it¡¯s a little weird. Does that actually work?¡± ¡°Shockingly well, yes.¡± Deb nodded. ¡°Between that, a painkiller routine that doesn¡¯t impede cognition, and a physical therapy routine in the days leading up to the use, as well as extensive education on personal biology and what changes will be made, I believe we¡¯re almost ready to begin large scale trials.¡± ¡°Yeah, Keeka is excited. And maybe terrified.¡± James¡¯ mouth twisted into a curved half-frown. ¡°It kinda sucks this is the best option we have in a lot of ways.¡± ¡°There are purple orbs that can help. But¡­¡± Deb sighed. Frequency-Of-Sunlight picked up the line of thought. ¡°They help with single things. Not with bodily conditions. Also, also, they add, they will not change. Strange things.¡± Her camera eye focused in on James as she talked. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t look at me, I didn¡¯t make them.¡± James held his hands up. Deb let out a sudden giggle, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, her fork poking out at an angle. ¡°She¡¯s right though.¡± She said. ¡°Mostly! We¡¯ve actually got a combination of purple that could make a ratroach¡­ I don¡¯t know what language you want me to use here. Make their bodies function close to what an uninjured, able bodied human would.¡± Deb¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°But of course, the purples work differently for them, so there¡¯s no telling how some of them might change. And that still would only bring them up to almost human standard. And it would take almost fifty orbs.¡± ¡°Which we could absolutely do.¡± James pointed out. ¡°Of course¡­¡± ¡°Of course we could also use the potions, and mundane medicine, to help them manage pain, until we can go through a single procedure that fixes all their problems.¡± Deb shrugged. ¡°Assuming it goes well. Which it might not. Also ¡®single procedure¡¯ is a misnomer. We¡¯re staring with between three and five, to affect the changes we¡¯ve identified as necessary. But it¡¯s still better for them, and for our limited replicator budget. Haaa¡­ ¡®replicator budget¡¯. What happened to my life¡­¡± She glanced at her watch. ¡°I should get back.¡± ¡°No!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight hissed along with her words. ¡°Sit! Lunch! Enjoy time!¡± She whipped her body around to look at James. ¡°Help make her stay!¡± ¡°Sure. So Deb.¡± ¡°Oh hell no, don¡¯t conspire with her on this.¡± Deb crossed her arms. ¡°I agreed to a quick lunch.¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t finished your salad thing, anyway, I have a real question that can distract you. Actually, you might have insight in this too, Sunny.¡± He glanced down at Rufus, and picked up one of the documents the stapler had brought for him. ¡°Rufus here has been talking to me about including the stuff animals in the youth group program, and I¡¯m going to start looking into actually getting a structured education program going. You two have a lot of experience with different species for, you know, reasons.¡± He idly gestured at the camraconda. ¡°Any hurdles we should know about, for a mixed species school environment?¡± Rufus excitedly gestured agreement with the question and interest in the topic as James concluded. Sunny hissed in thought. ¡°Don¡¯t know how long my people are children.¡± She said. ¡°Or how long it would be¡­ appropriate?¡± She glanced at Deb. ¡°That¡¯s a possible term for it.¡± Deb said slowly. ¡°Actually, if we have any skill ranks on developmental psychology available, we should consider distributing those to whoever ends up working on this new project. I¡¯m assuming it¡¯ll be called¡­ Reeducation?¡± ¡°What?¡± James blinked. ¡°No?¡± Rufus scuttled forward, shifting a paper toward Deb, who started reading it with interest. ¡°Okay, so, I think the issue here is that we might be looking at emotional maturity wrong. We should make time to talk to some of our staff therapists, or whoever is currently studying the Ascent¡¯s growth. Rufus, I assume you know who that is?¡± The stapler crab dipped his body forward, clacking in agreement as he started rearranging his documents to put something else in front of Deb. ¡°Hold up, what¡¯s with¡­¡± James started to ask, but the two of them were ignoring him now. He turned to Frequency-Of-Sunlight. ¡°This wasn¡¯t what I wanted.¡± He apologized. ¡°No, but it is working.¡± She said with an amused lilt to her digital voice. ¡°Also because you are curious, we think it takes three to six years of mental freedom for camracondas to reach emotional maturity.¡± It was still a little strange to James when Sunny switched to speaking in an almost professional tone. She, and most of the camracondas, really, were a lot smarter than their sometimes limited and often strange speech let on. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s good to know. This is gonna end up a complete societal mess, though, I just know it.¡± ¡°Chaos is not bad.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight adjusted the mechanical arms on her back, settling them into a position that didn¡¯t drag on her. ¡°It brought us here, after all. To learn so much about ourselves.¡± She glanced at Deb, still engaged in a conversation with Rufus that was very one sided in who was talking. ¡°It is nice.¡± ¡°How¡¯re you two doing, by the way?¡± James asked with a soft smile. ¡°Since your girlfriend is distracted.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight flicked her tongue over her tightly wound cable snout. ¡°Good! Good?¡± She half asked. ¡°I do not know.¡± The camraconda slumped slightly, instantly going back on what she said. ¡°I do not know what I am doing. Or if I am doing things correctly. Or what relationships are. It makes me happy, but I hope I am doing well.¡± James nodded sagely. ¡°I understand completely.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Actually yeah, no sarcasm intended.¡± James grinned. ¡°You could try asking Deb directly, which I find tends to help. Or you could wait to learn that she¡¯s apparently good at following multiple conversations at once in a few seconds here.¡± James raised his eyebrows as Frequency-Of-Sunlight titled her head at him, shortly before Deb wrapped her arms around the camraconda in a tight hug. ¡°Like that.¡± He said. ¡°You idiot.¡± Deb mumbled into Frequency¡¯s head, barely loud enough for James to make it out over the growing noise of a dining room that was filling up with people. He excused himself, giving Rufus a ride out on his shoulder as they left the two partners to their moment. ¡°I¡¯ve got some time. Where to?¡± James asked, and let Rufus pilot him down to the basement and the small paranormal garden that the stapler maintained. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta ask, how do you have time to do all this?¡± James said. ¡°Do you sleep or anything?¡± Rufus made an X with his forelegs, vigorously blinking at James. ¡°Huh. I¡¯ll trade you for that power?¡± James ventured to ask. He got another X in reply. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d say that too.¡± He said, before waving goodbye to his small friend and leaving the stapler to his plants. _____ ¡°Oh, hey!¡± James smiled as he ran into Arrush near the stairs up from one of the basements. ¡°Fancy seeing you here!¡± ¡°Is¡­ it?¡± Whatever Arrush had been about to say was derailed by the simple statement, a look of warped confusion crossing his angular muzzle. ¡°Why? I live downstairs.¡± ¡°Down¡­ right. Fuck, I¡¯ve been taking the elevator and teleport the whole time, so I only just learned about this, and then instantly forgot about it. Why do we have another downstairs?¡± James¡¯ own explanation was temporarily derailed, before he shook it off and gave a real answer. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s just an idiom. Like, it means I¡¯m a little surprised to see you because I had no expectations, but I¡¯m happy with the encounter anyway.¡± Arrush nodded slowly, straightening back up to his full height and out of the cautious slouch he¡¯d fallen into at James¡¯ opening words. ¡°Oh. I am¡­ also happy then.¡± His breath came in a series of rapid inhilations, steady, and far less painful than before, but still enough to make his chest heave like a panting dog¡¯s as his heart hammered. ¡°Hello.¡± ¡°Heh. Hi. Hey, actually, I¡¯m going on a walk here. Do you wanna come with me? Just hang out for a bit?¡± James offered casually, trying not to betray his own mild tempest of emotions. Arrush¡¯s offset eyes blinked in a rippling pattern that James had come to associate with a kind of suspicious disbelief. ¡°Outside?¡± He asked, curling some of his arms inward. ¡°Well, in Townton, but yes, outside.¡± James clarified. ¡°A couple people wanted me to take a closer look at the necroad thing, and I¡¯m gonna do it recklessly.¡± ¡°Oh. Then. Yes.¡± Arrush relaxed again, much more comfortable in a place where there weren¡¯t dangerous life forms wandering around everywhere. ¡°I will come with you. As¡­ protection.¡± ¡°As a conversation partner.¡± James replied with a hint of a smile. ¡°I can take care of myself.¡± Arrush just hummed at him as he followed James up the stairs and into the space between the maintenance closet that James used to call an office, and the door to the back briefing warehouse. James had actually thought they were going to emerge somewhere in the kitchen; the stairwells seemed to be getting harder to keep track of the longer he used them, instead of easier. The lobby was bustling with activity, but not overwhelmingly so. People coming and going from around the Lair, on their way to or from lunch, meeting up for conversations or exchanges of information, or just taking advantage of the comfortable space to relax. All it needed was someone idly noodling on a guitar, and an espresso machine, and it¡¯d remind James of a pleasant cafe environment. Right now, the humans outnumbered the few camracondas and manifested infomorphs, and none of those humans were kids. It was, after all, a school day, and that thought struck James as funny all of a sudden. He was running around, trying to fix problems and facilitate communication and explore dungeons and a million other things, but to a number of the interns they had here, the most important thing was that this was the second semester of their senior year. And if they played their cards right, they might survive it. And graduate, too! Next to James, Arrush sniffed the air, tensing up again, and as he led them around the desk James noticed why. In a beanbag pressed up against the corner of the room, a pair of the newer ratroaches lurked like they were trying to watch everyone at once and failing. A young man sat next to them, and it took James a second to recognize that it was Marcus, usually on the phones in Response, his back leaned against the desk, flipping through a book like he wasn¡¯t worried about anything in the world. He¡¯d added more pride pins to his coat lapel since James had seen him last. The ratroaches stared at Arrush, their antenna flattened back on their half-furred heads as they watched him. Arrush, similarly, seemed to shrink down and walked as close to James as he could. James just waved and gave Marcus a cheerful ¡°sup¡± that got him a tip of the book and a grin. James didn¡¯t comment on Arrush sidling up to him. The closeness actually felt rather warm, even if he knew that it was mostly because the ratroach was still nervous around this many people. ¡°Why are we¡­ here?¡± Arrush asked in a wet whisper over James¡¯ head. ¡°Oh, sorry, we¡¯re saving telepad uses by carpooling. Uh¡­ which is a term for-¡° ¡°Know what carpooling is.¡± Arrush sounded a little offended. ¡°Lived with¡­ car people.¡± James didn¡¯t exactly pause, because he didn¡¯t want Arrush to run over him, but he did make a confused noise in the back of his throat. ¡°Car people, like, people who are¡­ cars? No, wait, I got it, sorry. Took my brain a second.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± ¡°Anyway, we¡¯re meeting Dave and Watcher-Of-Motion, who are headed down to Townton for reasons.¡± James pointed across the room to where the other two were milling around near the door as he led Arrush across the Lair¡¯s lobby. Another camraconda was helping Watcher-Of-Motion affix one of their species specific jackets around his body as James walked up with a wave. ¡°I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re over here.¡± He said out loud to Arrush. ¡°But hey.¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s the front door?¡± Dave looked at him like he was dumb. ¡°That¡¯s how you leave a building James.¡± ¡°I missed this.¡± James said, turning his head toward Arrush. ¡°I missed this utterly earnest dumbass.¡± ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not that earnest!¡± Dave said, chuckling as he did so. James snorted. ¡°What¡¯ve you been up to, anyway?¡± He said as he double checked his phone for the Townton address they were teleporting to, and pressed his telepad up to the wall of the building to start writing on it. ¡°Something comical and illegal, I¡¯m assuming.¡± ¡°Why would you assume that?¡± Dave cocked his head at James. ¡°I never do that.¡± James pocketed his pen and raised his eyebrows as he held out a hand. ¡°Really? No flying around the country with Pendragon, breaking FAA regulations left and right?¡± ¡°Karen files flight paths for me.¡± Dave said, setting a hand on Watcher¡¯s head and taking James¡¯ hand. James offered his arm to Arrush, who paused before he wrapped a warm chitinous hand around it. And then, gathered up, James ripped the telepad page and sent them to another state. Tennessee¡¯s air felt different, and James couldn¡¯t quite figure out how, only that the pressure on his skin was off. That, and the smell of the Lair, which was a lot more chaotic even if it was fairly pleasant, was a sharp jump away from the smell of the police station that was sterilized via green orb effect every day. ¡°Thank you for flying Air Telepad.¡± James intoned. ¡°Your exits are to the left, thank your cabin staff.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Watcher-Of-Motion said politely with a bob of his neck, before promptly slithering off. James watched the camraconda go. ¡°I hope he didn¡¯t think I was being serious.¡± He winced to himself. ¡°Anyway. Dave! Have fun with your suspicious thing you didn¡¯t tell me about.¡± James raised his eyebrows at his friend, but Dave just laughed, and gave an ¡°Alright¡± as he turned to walk to the thin stairwell next to the dead elevator, leaving James standing there with Arrush. ¡°I¡­ actually wanted an answer, though¡­¡± James said. ¡°Why did you not say that?¡± Arrush asked, speaking up now that the two of them were mostly alone again. ¡°Because I¡¯m an idiot.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°And I tend to forget that Dave has a very literal take on conversations a lot of the time.¡± ¡°Is that bad?¡± Arrush asked, shifting slightly, but not stepping away from his spot next to James. James pivoted, stepping back slightly to look up Arrush properly. ¡°Eh!¡± He settled on. ¡°It¡¯s Dave. Like, this isn¡¯t a Dave problem, this is a me problem. I know Dave sees things differently, and I still phrased my question like I was making a joke, so¡­ you know. That¡¯s on me. I coulda handled that better.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t know¡­ what he is doing.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine.¡± ¡°Not¡­ illegal?¡± Arrush ventured. ¡°I said fine, not safe.¡± James clarified. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s doing something that¡¯ll dramatically upstage me later, because that¡¯s a thing Dave did repeatedly for a while there. That was before we met, though. So maybe he¡¯s changed. We actually don¡¯t talk much anymore; he just got really into taking care of Pendragon and helping everyone else raise the new paper drakes, and that¡¯s cool, but¡­ eh. Eh, that¡¯s all. We drifted apart.¡± James sighed. ¡°Sorry, that was kinda heavy and you didn¡¯t actually ask to know how I¡¯m failing to keep my friendships up. Wanna head out?¡± Arrush glanced toward the police station door, which had had the shattered glass cleaned up, but was still a broken wreck that no one had bothered to fully replace in their time occupying the building. ¡°Should you¡­ check in?¡± He asked, worried. ¡°Kirk and Myles know I¡¯m here, so does Dave, I¡¯ve got a telepad set to take us home if anything goes wrong, and really, this is just kind of a simple test of behavior.¡± James shrugged. ¡°And it¡¯s actually nice outside. Though¡­¡± He glanced at Arrush, and at the somewhat tattered black hoodie he was wearing. ¡°Do you need a coat or something? Are you gonna be okay? It¡¯s warmer here than back in Oregon, but it¡¯s still kinda cold if you-¡° ¡°Fine.¡± Arrush huffed. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He repeated, more evenly. ¡°Alright, then let¡¯s get going.¡± James led them to the door, then realized he had no idea how to actually open the half-barricade. Arrush, who had lived here for a while before the cleanup team moved to a hotel with actual rooms, casually reached over and unpinned a latch, pushing the boarded up door open. ¡°Right. Thanks.¡± James grinned. ¡°Shoulda teleported us outside.¡± The city of Townton was overcast, approaching an early night, and still an absolute mess. With the power out, there weren¡¯t going to be an streetlights, so James had wanted to get here before actual sunset and the complete absence of light, but it was still jarring to him to be in a city with no people. The people were long gone, either dead or evacuated. The buildings were, in many cases, half destroyed, and in some cases burned down. He knew there were swaths of the suburbs where early fires had ravaged places the Order couldn¡¯t really do much to save. But these days, with nothing left to spark fires except errant lightning strikes, it was mostly just¡­ well¡­ Empty. They¡¯d driven through parts of the city, going from their claimed outposts to the dungeon, or just scouring the buildings for personal effects or valuable resources. But on foot it really was something else. The police station¡¯s public front parking lot lined up with a few restaurants on the other side, and past that there was a main intersection that split traffic between a road to the freeway, a strip mall, and a long path through town lined with businesses and dead traffic lights. James picked a direction at random and started walking, letting Arrush fall in at his side. They walked in silence for a couple blocks, as James watched the terrain around them. In a lot of ways, Townton reminded him of a dungeon. There was possibly something that might be hostile here, just out of sight. There was a strange stillness, an absence of¡­ not humanity, exactly, but a lack of living. No one lived here. There were wrecked cars on the road with spikes of asphalt through them, and they¡¯d been here since the cataclysm. And unless the Order did something, they¡¯d be here for a while longer too. There were buildings with freshly warped geometry, not arcane in nature, just not how buildings were supposed to look, and they stood unremarked upon. Because there was no one to do the remarking. James paused briefly as they passed a car dealership where it looked like something had cut the two story office building in half, part of it slumped sideways, the insides of the structure exposed, carpet and furniture rotting in the elements. The sidewalks were mostly clear, at least. ¡°I don¡¯t see any of the necroads around here.¡± James said as they crossed an intersection, his instincts still forcing him to look side to side for oncoming traffic that couldn¡¯t possibly be there. ¡°They avoid¡­ this place. Think they learned it was dangerous.¡± Arrush¡¯s clipped words sounded almost sad. ¡°Didn¡¯t know, then.¡± He added. James glanced at him. ¡°I never asked,¡± he said softly, ¡°did you fight them ever? Shit, I¡¯m sorry. You were supposed to be here so you could have a quite place with Keeka, not to get dropped into another¡­ well.¡± Arrush shook his head rapidly, an alarmed look in his many widening eyes. ¡°No!¡± He hissed. ¡°It was good, here. It is. Everyone is¡­ kind.¡± A pair of his extra arms ran sharpened claws across his chitin. ¡°Once, they tried to attack. Nate kept us back. Keeka wanted to help. But we never fought.¡± ¡°Well good.¡± James sighed, tilting his head up to look at the darkening clouds overhead. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be keeping you safe, not the other way around.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t it be both?¡± Arrush asked, genuinely curious. ¡°Is that¡­ not what you want?¡± James stepped around a toppled newspaper dispenser, the last few issues still inside preserving the mundanity of a past day. ¡°Sure, but you know what I mean.¡± He said as he looked back up from the sidewalk and swept his eyes across the road, looking for movement. They were walking past a fence on their left now, and he could see through the gaps a fleet of mail trucks waiting in a large lot. ¡°You two were so new then, to us.¡± ¡°Am I not new now?¡± Arrush asked, cracking his maw in a grin. ¡°Psh!¡± James smiled. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ I dunno, what are you?¡± He looked over at the ratroach, who was doing that nervous slouch again, making himself look more James¡¯ height than the towering figure he was when he stood comfortably. ¡°I talked to your boyfriend the other day, you know.¡± ¡°I¡­ heard.¡± Arrush looked away. ¡°I¡¯m sor-¡° ¡°Noooooooope.¡± James cut him off. ¡°But¡­¡± ¡°Nope.¡± James reiterated. ¡°Stop apologizing for things! Unless¡­ wait, what were you going to apologize for?¡± ¡°For¡­ everything?¡± Arrush asked, his voice sounding very small in the empty city. James stopped at the corner of another intersection, the shattered brick wall of a bank ahead of them. He leaned against a decorative tree that was still growing healthily out of the sidewalk, setting his boot on one of the roots that was cracking the pavement around it. ¡°Then no.¡± James said. ¡°What are you actually thinking? Take a minute, put your thoughts together. There¡¯s no rush, let¡¯s go get on the roof of that bank.¡± James pointed as they walked, the two of them cutting across the street. He knew there were no cars here. But it still felt alien to not treat the asphalt line like it was an impassable river, while he walked. James had never been upstairs in a bank before. Much less on the roof of one. He¡¯d kind of thought it would feel special somehow, but as he leaned out over the edge to try to see if he could spot movement anywhere on the streets around them, all he felt was normal. There were no people who might confront him about this. No bustle of cars and pedestrians to watch. It was a nearly empty city, with almost no risk to clambering up any building he happened to feel like. The sensation of being somewhere he wasn¡¯t supposed to be, the thrill of maybe getting caught, they never manifested. The only life that might catch him up here were raccoons. At least the city smelled interesting. The encroaching greenery that was slowly starting in on the unmaintained buildings mixing with the omnipresent lingering scent of rust and ash. ¡°Okay.¡± Arrush said the word slowly, the individual syllables made into their own words as he stood off to James¡¯ side. He didn¡¯t lean against the ledge of the roof, or relax at all. ¡°I am¡­ sorry that we made you¡­ uncomfortable.¡± He said, words switching between English and Spanish at random. ¡°Haven¡¯t known how to talk to you. Or if we should. Or what to do.¡± Arrush looked away, trying to avoid eye contact. ¡°Feel like I love you. But what am I supposed to do about that? Tell you? What if you say no? Or your partners do? Or Keeka does? What if I¡­ make a mistake? What if you hate me?¡± Arrush sucked in a heavy breath, and James watched the ratroach¡¯s back with worried eyes as his offset shoulders twitched. ¡°And I am thinking that I am different. That I am broken, and wrong, and ugly, and that you won¡¯t want me. And that I don¡¯t know what I am sorry for, or how to apologize. I don¡¯t know so much things. And¡­ and¡­¡± Arrush¡¯s words fell off abruptly, his voice even scratchier than it normally was as he overtaxed his throat. Still not looking at James, he slumped heavily against the concrete wall along the edge of the roof, and started to slide down into a slump. James joined him down on the rooftop. A little more gracefully than Arrush, he slid his legs into a folded position, and leaned his back against the little wall between them and open air. He didn¡¯t say anything, at first. Instead, not quite knowing what he was doing himself, but remembering, painfully remembering, what it felt like to be where Arrush was, he reached over and ran a hand along his friend¡¯s shoulder. Arrush flinched at the contact, claws that were curled on the grimy rooftop scraping along the surface as he started to react. But then James let his hand keep going, his arm wrapping around Arrush¡¯s back, pulling him sideways to fold across James¡¯ chest. James was careful not to pull too hard; Arrush was possibly the most heavily modified ratroach at the Order, but he was still fragile in a lot of ways. Sitting there, pulling an Arrush who was obviously trying very hard not to openly sob into his shirt, James had a sudden realization that he didn¡¯t actually feel awkward. He knew he would have, when he was younger. But he couldn¡¯t tell exactly where the line was. Didn¡¯t know where he¡¯d changed, or what had done it. And yet he felt like he was perfectly fine being here. His voice still caught at first when he started to talk though. But after clearing his throat, he spoke softly to the person who was now leaning heavily into him. ¡°Hell, I know exactly how that feels.¡± James started, before realizing how dumb that sounded, and that maybe he wasn¡¯t as past being awkward as he thought. ¡°That whole thing, feeling like you have to say everything at once, I know exactly what that¡¯s like.¡± He looked down at the top of Arrush¡¯s head, where antenna poked out of chitin that was partially covered by patchy tan fur. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you. You or Keeka. How could I ever?¡± James wanted to laugh, but it didn¡¯t feel right in the moment. ¡°I¡¯ve been wanting to talk to you because I do care about you. Both of you guys, really. But I¡¯m worried about actually acting on that.¡± Arrush pressed his face into James, who at that moment gave up on his shirt coming away with corrosive tear marks on it. His words were clipped and raspy. ¡°Because, we are¡­¡± James ran a hand down Arrush¡¯s back, pressing just enough for it to be felt through the sweatshirt. ¡°Because you, specifically, aren¡¯t in a mentally healthy place.¡± He said. ¡°I feel like I should be explicit about something; you not being human isn¡¯t really a problem for me, you know?¡± ¡°Whhhy?¡± Arrush asked with abrupt confusion. ¡°Why not?¡± James shrugged with a huff of breath, and decided on an answer that wasn¡¯t quite complete, but was still true. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not a priority for me. The people in my romantic life are human because they¡¯re the people I¡¯ve been with the whole time, not because of any preference, you know? I don¡¯t care what your body is, I care who you are. And I do like you.¡± He grinned ever so slightly as he felt Arrush shift against him at the words. ¡°I¡¯m worried, though, because I know you¡¯re dealing with trauma and pain and fear, and you won¡¯t talk to people. You barely even talk to me, and that¡¯s when you need a trained therapist and not my stupid ass.¡± ¡°¡­not stupid¡­¡± Arrush hissed softly. ¡°Bah.¡± James said with a real smile. ¡°But this is a problem. You¡¯re so new, and not only that, you¡¯re new and hurt. And I¡¯m terrified of hurting you in ways I don¡¯t even consider.¡± He kept rubbing along Arrush¡¯s back, feeling out the points where chitinous ridges sat under the hoodie, feeling Arrush¡¯s reaction when he traced a line around the joint of one of his secondary arms. ¡°Like this, though. I didn¡¯t realize you were so afraid to open up. I¡¯ll never hate you, even if you make mistakes. Even when I make mistakes, because fuck knows that¡¯s going to happen.¡± Arrush slumped farther down, sliding into a position where he was half laying in James¡¯ lap. James just settled himself, welcoming the warm contact as he kept trying to reassure his friend, who now was trying to contain the shaking in his shoulders and the rapid hissing breaths. ¡°S-sorry¡­¡± ¡°Why?¡± James asked quietly. ¡°Not¡­ supposed to¡­ cry¡­¡± Arrush said in a voice that broke James¡¯ heart. He set his hands flat on Arrush¡¯s back. ¡°We¡¯re not in the Sewer anymore.¡± James said in that same calm, quiet voice. ¡°We¡¯re out here, where things can be better. It¡¯s okay to cry, it¡¯s okay to let yourself feel things. No one who matters will think less of you.¡± The words were like a switch flipped. Suddenly, Arrush couldn¡¯t stop himself. He drew in breaths with sharp whistling wheezes, hot tears forming in the corners of his eyes. The blueish liquid didn¡¯t glow quite like his saliva did, but it was still corrosive, and as they traced channels through his fur and dropped from his triangular face, those tears began burning holes through James¡¯ cargo pants. James didn¡¯t say anything, but Arrush noticed after he opened his eyes some minutes later. ¡°Sorry!¡± He gasped out, pulling back. ¡°Why this time- oh.¡± James reached a hand down and poked a finger through one of the new holes in his pants. ¡°Well, at least now they look appropriate for a punk show.¡± He said. Next to him, Arrush sat himself up, sitting with his legs sticking straight out and his smaller arms propping him up against the wall. ¡°Hate that.¡± He muttered. ¡°Punk rock?¡± ¡°No. Melting things. Keeka likes punk rock.¡± Arrush sniffed, sacrificing the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe away the tears sizzling against his fur. Ratroaches seemed at least internally resistant to their own corrosive fluids, but their fur still suffered, even if it held up better than most things. ¡°Now¡­ what?¡± James caught what Arrush probably meant, but asked for clarification anyway. ¡°You mean, now what, between us?¡± He asked, and Arrush nodded in a jerky motion at him. ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly.¡± James said. ¡°But I mean it when I say that you should be in a mentally healthy place before I¡¯d be comfortable trying a relationship. It¡¯d be really easy to ignore that and think that I could help you through things, but¡­ that¡¯s not how it works. That¡¯s never how it works.¡± James glanced up at the darkening sky. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to make this a transaction either, but Arrush, you need therapy. Keeka¡¯s worried about you too, and I think you already know it.¡± ¡°¡­yes¡­¡± the ratroach hissed out. ¡°Yeah. So that¡¯s a requirement for anything. But¡­ I dunno. We¡¯ll see? I¡¯d say we should spend more time together, but I spend half my life in dungeons these days.¡± ¡°I¡­ actually like¡­ dungeons.¡± Arrush said, like he was feeling guilty about it. James blinked. ¡°Really? That¡¯s not just a thing you were doing because you felt like you owed us?¡± ¡°At first.¡± Arrush admitted. ¡°But now¡­ some of them are¡­ beautiful.¡± He motioned the smaller arm on his left side at the rooftop they were on. ¡°Like this.¡± He added. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m too used to being on rooftops to know why this is special.¡± James admitted with a shrug. ¡°But okay. I¡¯ll trust you. Oh, also, I didn¡¯t address this earlier but Alanna at least is fine with whatever ¡®us¡¯ is. She¡¯s also been incredibly suggestive, which is¡­ well, Alanna. Anesh is fine with it too, but he¡¯s normal person fine, not Alanna fine.¡± Arrush nodded, then stopped, as he tried to figure out what James had just said. Working through the sentence in his head as he mouthed the words, before working it out and then completing the nod. ¡°It is¡­¡± He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, before tilting his head away and hiding the flush of green around his eyes from James. ¡°Nevermind.¡± ¡°Oh, come on, now I¡¯m curious!¡± James said. Arrush shuffled in embarrassment. ¡°Was going to say¡­ Alanna¡­ would be disappointed. Ratroaches¡­ ah¡­ melt things like¡­ condoms.¡± James let out a low ¡°Ooh¡± at the mental image. "Okay, that''s... wait, that implies you... is this a problem for you and Keeka too? That''s kinda awful, I''m sorry! That¡¯s gotta be incredibly frustrating. But¡­ at the risk of diving off the deep end of ¡®too much information¡¯ territory, aren¡¯t you sort of immune to your own¡­ uh¡­ fluids?" James felt like smacking himself for how awkwardly that came out. "No. I was... trying. For no reason." Arrush pushed himself off the wall abruptly, standing up with bits of dirt and flecks of concrete dusting off his pants and the back of his hoodie. ¡°We should¡­¡± James made the connection almost instantly, and reached up to catch one of Arrush¡¯s claws in his hand. "Part of me is embarrassed here.¡± He said. ¡°But enough of me thinks that''s adorably thoughtful and cute that I can''t feel bad at all. Also, I feel like I should skip ahead a bit to the fact that sex isn''t required for a relationship." "...Really?" Arrush sounded suspicious. "...Yes? Yes. Really. Absolutely not. Romance and sex are different." James said with increasing assurance. "Oh. Good." "But also I am absolutely certain we can find a way to let you orgasm without putting holes in things." James said, biting down on a massive grin as he tried not to explode with laughter, standing and brushing off the dirt from his ass that Arrush had been fine ignoring. ¡°Now! Let¡¯s get back to-¡° He froze, his voice stopping as he his vision panned over the street below. Mixed in among the damaged and empty cars, and the weeds beginning to crack through the pavement, were four standing figures. At first glance, they looked like the outlines of humans. But they moved without a clear connection to physics. A center mass like a rough cone sat floating over the road in a slow bobbing motion, while around it, four dark limbs, each with two joints and ending in long and wicked claws, were held in position by nothing in particular. Two of those claws acted like legs, walking the figures along the road, while the other two were positioned like arms, even if they weren¡¯t connected to any joints and seemed capable of pivoting freely to move between cars. The four figures were made out of asphalt, though James knew that inside that dark substance, they contained ritually imbued chunks of human bone that were what made them¡­ well, alive, for lack of a better term. They didn¡¯t have heads or eyes, but as Arrush joined James at the edge of the bank¡¯s roof, he realized that all of them had one of their claws extended with an open ¡®palm¡¯ facing up toward them. ¡°Wonder if that¡¯s how they see.¡± He muttered, and when Arrush shot a glance his way, James mimed open his own hand and holding it upright as the ratroach nodded at him and resumed watching the approaching necroads. James pulled his vision up, scanned around them, and didn¡¯t see any others on nearby buildings or approaching from down the street, so he made a decision. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go say hi.¡± He said, turning to head back into the bank. ¡°Is¡­ safe?¡± Arrush¡¯s language was back to being clipped as his anxiety rose. But he followed James closely anyway; a different kind of tension this time, the feeling that a fight might be coming running through his blood like lightning as his body told him it was time to hurt something. He shoved the feeling away with disgust as James spoke. ¡°Probably not. But I¡¯ve got the telepad set. Here.¡± He passed the small notepad back to Arrush, who took it in a careful claw. ¡°Keep a hand on my arm and tear that if it gets bad, okay?¡± Arrush nodded as they moved through the ruined bank lobby and stepped out into the rapidly darkening evening. Soon, there wouldn¡¯t be any light, and the necroads would be practically invisible against the dark street. But James hurried around the corner anyway, staying on the sidewalk as he approached the four creatures, all of which shifted into a geometric formation as they caught sight of him. James stopped at the edge of the road. No one quite knew the limits of the necroads. But stepping onto the road would absolutely put him within range of them, so he held back briefly. ¡°Hello.¡± James said to them, in the voice that he¡¯d use on a skittish dog. ¡°Can you understand me?¡± The four figures shifted, their central bodies turning toward each other, claws widening and narrowing as the asphalt of their bodies flowed in droplets, rearranging ever so slightly. None of them spoke. James held his arms out, showing empty hands. ¡°We¡¯re not here to fight.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯re done fighting. But we don¡¯t know how to talk. I¡¯m not even sure you know what I¡¯m saying. But we have to start somewhere, so I¡¯m rambling for a bit here.¡± He cut himself off as one of the necroads slid forward. The creature moved without exactly stepping; its claws moved in a mimicry of walking, but really, it was drawing furrows in the asphalt that sealed behind it like it was hot sand and not a solid street. It approached James slowly, and he felt Arrush¡¯s claw tighten on his arm sharply as the ratroach watched it with wary eyes. It stopped a few feet from the edge of the sideway. James raised an arm and waved at it. ¡°Hey.¡± He said again. And then, after what felt like a painfully long time, the necroad shifted itself. One of its orbiting arm claws twisted at the first joint, swinging around in a slow arc. James ignored Arrush¡¯s hissing breath in his ear as he watched carefully, while the asphalt creature raised its own arm, and waved back. Then a noise sounded from somewhere far away; a loud crash of metal and glass that echoed down the street. The necroad jerked backward, sliding across the road to rejoin its companions; all four of them rapidly weaving between wrecked cars and fallen debris to disappear around a corner and into the night. ¡°Well.¡± James said with a please smile. ¡°That went well! Tonight has been going great.¡± Arrush hissed something that might have been a laugh, as the last rays of light finally dipped below the horizon and the city plunged into dark night. He tore the telepad, and took them away. Chapter 221 ¡°He identifies as a catholic, which isn¡¯t even a real gender!¡± -Sophie From Mars, Ye West & The Fascists Who Love Him- _____ Loraine Wheeler was having an aggravating day. Her job was to handle advising incoming or potential students on how to get the most out of their college experience; helping them access services, getting them through student loan applications, that manner of thing. She wasn¡¯t bad at her job, but it was just a job, not a passion. Which was why it was a fairly regular occurrence for her to find a day pushing her toward the threshold for what she was willing to put up with. And today, with two canceled appointments, a printer jam, and spilling half her latte across her desk, that line was coming up rapidly. This, of course, was exactly the wrong time for James to knock on her office door. She didn¡¯t know the young man who settled into the seat across from her, though she did appreciate that he was here exactly two minutes early. But it didn¡¯t take long for her to lose any professional air she had, and snap at him. ¡°Get out of my office.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± James held up a hand in a placating gesture, ¡°I admit, this sounds dumb. And it doesn¡¯t help that I said it with a smirk. But I¡¯m not wasting your time, and I actually-¡° ¡°I don¡¯t believe you, I don¡¯t care. Get out.¡± Loraine stopped paying attention at that point, instead turning back to angrily sorting papers into ¡®fine¡¯ and ¡®coffee soaked garbage¡¯. After the second stack of pages slammed into her trash bin, she flicked her eyes up to see James still sitting in the chair on the other side of her desk. ¡°I¡¯m calling security.¡± She said in a hostile voice. James opened his mouth to complain, and then stopped. At this point in his life, he had broken enough etiquette skill orbs to understand that there was nothing he was going to get out of this encounter. Every single part of him wanted to just explain the situation, and get results, because that was how life in the Order worked and he¡¯d really actually gotten used to it. He¡¯d forgotten that the reason he¡¯d made the Order of Endless Rooms work that way was because very often, people in modern society didn¡¯t do that, didn¡¯t care about explanations, didn¡¯t want to help, and were awful to deal with. Usually not this directly, but it was a good example. So he closed his mouth, nodded once to calm himself, and silently stood up to leave, ignoring the woman still shouting at him to get out as he left her office and closed the door. Then James walked to the front desk of the admissions office, stood in line for eighteen minutes while he read news articles on his phone, and then tried to make another appointment. ¡°Oh, was there a problem?¡± The student assistant behind the counter asked, looking back toward the twin hallways that led to the offices past his desk. ¡°Ah¡­ yes.¡± James said. ¡°I think she¡¯s having a bad day. It¡¯s fine, I just don¡¯t know who to talk to about this, and she wouldn¡¯t believe me when I tried to explain it.¡± ¡°Well maybe I can help.¡± The young woman opened a new file on her computer. ¡°What did you need to talk about today?¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°I¡¯m trying to help a friend of mine audit some classes, and was looking for information and resources for her. There¡¯s a few issues with this, one of which being a lack of documentation¡­¡± The assistant nodded knowingly as she capped the lip gloss she was using and smiled at him. ¡°We can actually work around that; ID requirements are mostly optional, if you know the forms to fill out.¡± ¡°¡­also she¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ differently abled?¡± ¡°We can work with that too. Professors are required to have full lesson plans now that can be studied as notes, so note taking isn¡¯t required, and the college has an organization that provides personal aides to students that require help navigating the campus, though access is prioritized based on medical need. Do you know what your friend¡¯s condition is?¡± ¡°Australian Shepherd I think?¡± James said sheepishly. The woman looked up at him slowly, eyes not quite showing comprehension as she waited for him to explain. ¡°Dog. She is a dog. That¡¯s the issue.¡± ¡°¡­If this is an Air Bud joke, then I understand why Ms. Wheeler kicked you out.¡± ¡°I was going to make an Air Bud joke, I¡¯m not going to lie to you.¡± James admitted with a sad look. ¡°But I¡¯m also serious. For reasons that are too complicated to get into right now, I¡¯m trying to enroll a dog in some veterinary biology classes. She¡¯s capable of understanding spoken and written English, Spanish, and French, has a capacity for general intelligence that¡¯s close enough to baseline human, and wants to attend class. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know how to explain this? Like, I can, if you need me to, explain every single step that has brought my life to this point, but we¡¯ll be here for several hours, and you¡¯ll have more questions than I¡¯ll answer, and the issue will still be that I need to enroll a dog in college.¡± The assistant stared at him as he spoke, eyes narrowed like she didn¡¯t really believe him. But something about the exhausted and defeated tone James had felt strangely convincing. Like this wasn¡¯t a prank, but someone who really did have a unique problem that was just absurd enough to ruin any appointment before it started. ¡°What¡¯s the dog¡¯s name?¡± ¡°Auberdeen.¡± James said. ¡°Last name?¡± She asked him, typing the information into the form. He was a little surprised, and didn¡¯t have a good answer. ¡°Uh¡­¡± he considered just using the last names of everyone in the apartment, but that seemed clunky. ¡°¡­can¡¯t have a quadruple-hyphenated last name¡­¡± he muttered. ¡°Can you leave it blank? I¡¯ll ask her later.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± The woman shrugged. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re set up for an appointment tomorrow with someone who won¡¯t just yell you out of the room.¡± She grabbed a printed page from the machine next to her and slid it to James under the plexiglass window. ¡°Bring Auberdeen with you, as well as your own ID. And if Mr. Qwan asks, let him know that Max set up the appointment.¡± James sighed in relief as he took the page from her. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s¡­ Tuesday? It might be someone else coming, depending on how tired I am. But thanks, Max.¡± He said gratefully. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not Max.¡± The young woman reached forward and deftly flipped down the small plaque with her name on it before James could check. ¡°I¡¯m not certain this isn¡¯t a prank, and Max still owes me thirty bucks.¡± ¡°¡­It sure was nice of Max to set up this appointment for me.¡± James said with dry wit. ¡°Sure was.¡± _____ James found Ben in the briefing warehouse. Or rather, he made an attempt to find Ben in the large shared room. Wishing he¡¯d either kept his coat on, or that someone would turn on the heat, James rubbed at his bare arms as he headed into the back of their building. He was just starting to wonder why there was some kind of folding wall thing set up around the section that their rogue division used, when JP casually slid into his way. ¡°Heeeey.¡± His friend said easily, with a casual grin that James had come to worry about. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± ¡°My Air Bud plan didn¡¯t work.¡± James cryptically replied. ¡°Also hey. I need to talk to Ben and get my update, before the scheduled thing later.¡± ¡°Which one?¡± JP asked, with the kind of half-attentive tone that meant that he probably knew, but was offloading the work of remembering onto James. James rolled his eyes. ¡°The general forum. The one where we make plans and then figure out who executes the plans, and I¡¯m supposed to be there this time because we¡¯re discussing how to move forward with the New York thing as a general strategy. And you are also supposed to be there.¡± He glared at JP. ¡°Anyway. Ben¡¯s been collating updates for me, so I¡¯m gonna get him to fill me in on anything important, and then go tell Deb to take a vacation.¡± ¡°Why?¡± JP seemed confused. ¡°Did she annoy you or something?¡± ¡°¡­she has been here, something like twenty hours a day, every day, doing I don¡¯t know what, and she should probably have some time off.¡± James grumbled. ¡°I mean, I know what she¡¯s doing. It¡¯s shaper substance stuff. Which is fun to say, by the way. But she¡¯s really hung up on it, she spends basically all her time either doing tests on the stuff, or planning out changes with people, or whatever. And that¡¯s on top of still being the primary physician for every chimera in the building, and-¡° JP held up both hands, dipping his head in a clean motion. ¡°Sorry, stop.¡± He said. ¡°Chimera?¡± ¡°I hate the term ratroach and I¡¯m trying something new.¡± James said. ¡°Because none of them had any suggestions, but Keeka and Ishah both agreed that a new species name would be good. No good?¡± ¡°I just feel like you¡¯re inviting them to get Bellerophoned with a name like that.¡± JP said without hesitation. And then, seeing James staring at him with an incredulous look, one palm pressed into his forehead, added, ¡°What? I¡¯m not allowed to make mythology references, but you are? You¡¯re the worst person to give that power to. And I say that because I know you. Anyway,¡± JP continued, ignoring James¡¯ offended noise, ¡°why not name the species based on what they are after shaping themselves? Or is that not something that¡¯s coming up anytime soon?¡± James composed himself and decided to ignore JP¡¯s casual roasting. ¡°Actually I think they¡¯re starting pretty soon. The main thing is managing the pain, which is why testing was slow.¡± ¡°Because using it hurts, right. Probably not a good idea to make myself even hotter then, huh?¡± JP mused. ¡°Though¡­¡± He ran two fingers down the side of his hairline. ¡°Uh¡­¡± James interrupted his friend¡¯s thoughts. ¡°No. Like, I wanna be clear on this. It¡­ it hurts to use, and then doesn¡¯t stop hurting. Like, you can give it kind of general directions, but if you don¡¯t specify how the changes should work, it sort of defaults to chronic pain. So a lot of the leadup to this has been focus practice, and biology study, and not actually ¡®how does magic goop do¡¯. It¡¯s also why I don¡¯t have a tail yet.¡± James sighed. JP leaned sideways to look behind James. ¡°Was that a thing you wanted?¡± ¡°I thought you knew me, man.¡± James quipped. ¡°Anyway, this has been a nice distraction, but I actually do have stuff to do today, so if I could get past you¡­¡± ¡°Oh. Ben. Right.¡± JP snapped his fingers. ¡°We¡¯re trying to figure out what he is. Can you come back later?¡± James sighed and looked around for something to sit in, coming up strangely empty. Though he did get an apologetic look from the nearby Charlie two tables over, who¡¯s group seemed to have stolen all the chairs. Suppressing the confusion he felt over where all the rest of their chairs went, he settled for leaning on the side of a heavy desk. ¡°So, the wall there, is because you put him in there alone, to see what his original shape was?¡± ¡°No, the wall there is to see if he turns into a camraconda when everyone around him is camracondas.¡± JP said. ¡°It¡¯s not working!¡± Ben¡¯s entirely human voice came from the other side of the portable folding wall. James took a deep breath. ¡°If he can hear us,¡± he said slowly, ¡°then wouldn¡¯t that, maybe, maybe, impact whatever shapeshifting powers he might have?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I was thinking that too, but I didn¡¯t want to say anything.¡± Ben¡¯s muffled call made irritation flash across JP¡¯s face, and threatened to send James into a fit of giggles. ¡°Ben, do you need help? Should I teleport you out of here?¡± James called past JP. ¡°You can¡¯t solve all your problems with teleportation, James.¡± JP sighed, letting his annoyance go with an effort of will. James scoffed. ¡°That is flagrantly untrue. Practically every issue I have gets less problematic when I can teleport. It¡¯s like money; money doesn¡¯t technically solve every problem, but not having it sure makes every problem worse. Teleporting makes every problem slightly less worse.¡± He finished his thought as Ben pushed the wall open, folding the temporary barrier aside and apologizing to the several camracondas who didn¡¯t seem too bothered to have been used as test subjects. ¡°Also why are you in a bathrobe?¡± He asked Ben out of idle curiosity. ¡°In case I turned into a camraconda.¡± Ben said with a shrug. ¡°You have literally no idea how your species works, do you?¡± James challenged, before turning on JP with a pointed look. ¡°No more experimenting on people! And, like, actually in this case!¡± Ben started to raise his hand, looking like he was going to say something placating, but James cut him off before he got started. ¡°No! Ben, no! We aren¡¯t even sure you maintain your sense of self if you change! That¡¯s horrifying! No more stupid tests!¡± James hadn¡¯t realized how actually angry about this he was until he noticed he had started yelling. JP made a casual motion with his hands, which actually annoyed James further, because he recognized it. It was the ¡®you can interpret this however is convenient¡¯ motion that JP did when he was about to bullshit someone. ¡°Okay, so, I get why this is worrying. But it¡¯s way worse to not know, and Ben did ask me about this, not the other way around.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true. I¡¯m a huge mark.¡± Ben said with a completely straight face. James couldn¡¯t decide if he should laugh or scream. Instead, he just pressed his eyes closed, and thought about how utterly exhausted he felt. It wasn¡¯t just physical exhaustion, either. Though four dungeon delves in a week did make that happen, and every muscle he had in his body still felt a lingering phantom soreness even though he¡¯d downed at least one exercise potion. But also, four dungeon delves in one week fucked with his sense of time, and he¡¯d screwed up his antidepressant doses to the point that he was basically restarting from the beginning, and ¡®just being tired¡¯ was his general feeling at the moment. He was getting through it though. But JP¡¯s actually somewhat reasonable words took the heat out of his anger, and left him feeling that exhaustion surging over every other feeling he had. Which was inconvenient, since he had stuff to do today. ¡°Ben, do you have an update or something for me?¡± James asked. ¡°Yeah, what on?¡± Ben asked, halfway through pulling on a pair of jeans under his robe. James blinked away his reflexive curiosity on how pants worked for someone who might not have a physical shape. ¡°Uh, every extant security concern for the Order.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve heard nothing from the FBI about Priority Earth, and we have someone on the ground near their camp to keep an eye on them so we know nothing¡¯s happened yet.¡± Ben started rattling off information at a rapid pace, trusting James to keep up. ¡°We¡¯ve got two people out looking into one of those sites that were on Priority Earth target lists you recovered, but they just left and we don¡¯t know what¡¯s up with that yet. Charlie¡¯s team over there are looking into the disappearances in Utah and the dungeon there, but nothing concrete so far. Response has had two active duty police officers try to join, but background checks caught them, and we don¡¯t actually know what they¡¯re up to since we just gave a polite ¡®no and fuck off¡¯. We¡¯re overtaxed on our ability to take in more ratroaches without risking more violent outbursts and that¡¯s a problem that can only really be fixed by hiring more medical and recovery staff but Texture-Of-Barkdust is going to hiss at you about budget constraints, which are also technically a security concern. There¡¯s been two more killings in New York, even with the ecoterrorists out of the picture for now, Yin¡¯s team is following leads, but there¡¯s still no sign of anything pillar-like there. Though, again, we¡¯re stretched really thin, and we didn¡¯t have that many people to start with.¡± Ben paused, for the first time looking down at his laptop on the desk. ¡°And there¡¯s a meeting with Harlan in thirty minutes.¡± ¡°I know about the meeting!¡± James said cheerfully. ¡°Also holy shit I¡¯m glad my memory¡¯s augmented or I would have already forgotten all of that. You know, this was a lot less complicated when my biggest problem was paying rent.¡± JP snorted. ¡°You could have just asked me to pay your rent.¡± ¡°Really?¡± James narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have made it weird? You, from three years ago?¡± ¡°Hah! Me from three months ago would have made it weird.¡± JP let a small, but real, smile slip onto his lips before his normal mask went back up. ¡°So. Do you have¡­¡± He paused and tilted his head as a sound like pen scratching on paper echoed in his head. ¡°Hang on. Planner?¡± ¡°Are Ben and James with you?¡± Planner asked JP in rapid words. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re here.¡± JP said with a frown. ¡°Why¡­¡± He didn¡¯t finish the sentence before Planner started unfolding limbs in the briefing warehouse, a trio of ethereal tendrils, looking like particularly horrifying octopus limbs, spreading out around JP in a neat pattern. ¡°There has been a development.¡± The infomorph stated in a voice that sounded worried. This was something that James found far scarier than most possibilities in his life. Planner expressed several emotions in their day to day life; satisfaction, smugness, irritation, general annoyance. But never worry. A quick shared glance with the others made it clear they didn¡¯t like hearing that tone from Planner either. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± James said, tilting his head to check the inner door to the warehouse as it slammed open and he saw Alex come running in. ¡°The deployed knights in Indiana looking into a prior Priority Earth target have missed a check in.¡± Planner said. ¡°Nate has taken two others available and moved to investigate.¡± They flicked one of their manipulators at the ¡®end¡¯ of a rippling tentacle, and handed JP a ghostly page, which he took and scanned quickly as Planner kept speaking while Alex skidded to a stop next to them and leaned on James panting. ¡°Okay¡­¡± JP said calmly, reaching out without thinking to set a hand on the roiling infomorph. ¡°What¡¯s got you worried? Nate¡¯s a bigger problem for anything out there than it¡¯s gonna be for him.¡± ¡°There is a gap.¡± Planner practically hissed at them. ¡°A hole in the schedule.¡± James could actually feel the sort of anxiety you got from being late to an appointment while stuck in traffic leeching into his mood. And yet, despite instantly recognizing the feeling as an outside thing, he couldn¡¯t do a damn thing to stop it. And judging by the sudden spike in the intensity of the glowing orange lights in his vision that Zhu used to show him potential paths, his navigator was experiencing the same thing. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± He tried to push through it. Which actually worked out okay; James was good at ignoring his emotions, and he¡¯d gotten really good at being late to things over the course of his life. ¡°Planner, are you talking about the meeting with Harlan?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Planner snapped, like James was an idiot. ¡°Wait, so¡­ oh, hey guys, by the way.¡± Alex interrupted herself, sweeping a hand across the sweat beading on her forehead under her short bangs. ¡°So you woke me up, and had me sprint up here, because someone might be late for a meeting?¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Yeah, Plan, I¡­ we can just solve this. It¡¯s not a big deal, Ben and Alex will go.¡± JP shrugged, then looked over at Ben who was giving him a slow shake of his head. ¡°Alex and James will go.¡± ¡°How come you¡¯re not involved in this?¡± James asked. ¡°Actually legitimate security reasons, which chaffs a bit.¡± JP looked halfway between apologetic and annoyed. ¡°There¡¯s always gotta be at least two people on site with clearance for the really dangerous stuff. And today it¡¯s just me and Davis, since Nate¡¯s gone. Also I need to get into contact with him. Ben, start our checkin please.¡± JP ordered, sounding eerily different from the guy James remembered being friends with in high school. James crossed his arms. ¡°What if I had plans?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡± Planner said, still trembling with anxiety. James winced. ¡°Okay, sorry Planner, this is obviously bothering you a lot. Are you okay? Like, I¡¯m fine doing the meeting, I just figured Nate would want to handle it. Alex, you good for adventure?¡± ¡°The last time I said yes to that, someone blew up a house on top of me.¡± Alex tried to play it off as a joke, but James could see legitimate concern in her eyes. ¡°Do we get backup, at least?¡± ¡°We are out of available knights.¡± Planner informed them. ¡°I have added you to the schedule. Thank you.¡± The infomorph coiled back in on themselves, almost completely disappearing except for a small manifested patch that left a hazy pastel glow at JP¡¯s side. James made a very firm mental note to talk to someone about Planner¡¯s anxiety when it came to missed appointments. He wasn¡¯t sure if it had come up before, but this was a sharp change in behavior from the infomorph that lived in the minds of over half the Order. He didn¡¯t even run Planner himself, but he still felt the emotional bleed from the living idea when they started to panic. ¡°Alright. Ben and I are gonna get to work. You two, get ready to go, you¡¯ve got about fifteen minutes.¡± JP said, turning back to where Ben was already sitting at the other end of the desks with a headset on, talking to someone in a soft tone. James and Alex glanced at each other, then shrugged. ¡°So, are we gonna die this time?¡± Alex asked. In a way that, disturbingly, sounded like a real question. ¡°No.¡± James said. ¡°Actually, no. It¡¯s a simple meeting. We¡¯re gonna talk to Harlan, give¡­ theeeeem? It? Give them the information on their people, get some information on a couple dungeons, and then leave.¡± ¡°And nothing terrible happens.¡± Alex said, scratching at the back of her hand. ¡°Right.¡± James nodded. They stood there for another minute in silence, watching Ben and JP start running through what seemed like a streamlined routine. Which was, itself, kind of surreal for James. He knew that things were changing, but this was something he never expected, even when he kept actually seeing it happen. His brain just didn¡¯t click with the mental image of JP being a responsible adult. He and Alex turned back to each other at almost the same moment. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go get a bunch of shield bracers and use the stupid crown thing a few times.¡± Alex said. ¡°Good call. I¡¯m gonna get a gun and a bunch of potions.¡± James nodded. ¡°Cool. Skulljack things?¡± ¡°Got one.¡± Alex patted her pocket. ¡°Get me a gun too?¡± ¡°Right. Get me several shield bracers.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Alex nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to call your partners!¡± She said as the two of them split up. James already had a phone to his ear. ¡°Already on it. Back here in ten?¡± She shot him a thumbs up just as the call clicked active. ¡°Hey! Alanna! I know you¡¯re busy, but¡­¡± _____ ¡°Hey, boss!¡± Mark¡¯s voice cut across the basement as he caught up to James somewhere between the public bath and the armory. ¡°Got a second?¡± ¡°I have¡­ six minutes before Planner starts to have an emotional breakdown. What¡¯s up, don¡¯t call me boss, and is this about the infinite electricity thing? Because you can¡¯t lie to me and say that¡¯ll only take six minutes.¡± James shifted his grip on the hard plastic matte black cases he was carrying. Mark jerked his head up in a slight nod, before deciding to not really engage with whatever James had said, and just ask someone in Research later. ¡°Sure. Hey, why do you have a memorial spot for me already in the secret graveyard?¡± ¡°What?¡± James, unfortunately, didn¡¯t have a choice but to be thrown by Mark¡¯s words. ¡°The¡­ what? No, please, let¡¯s talk about budget for the construction projects or something.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got a room down here with a corpse and a bunch of dungeon drops with name plaques on them.¡± Mark insisted. ¡°There¡¯s a camraconda religion thing there. Come on, you¡¯re not an idiot.¡± ¡°Oh! The secret graveyard!¡± James slapped his forehead, deciding to assume Mark wasn¡¯t trying to be an asshole on purpose. ¡°Right. What about it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a spot there. So, what the fuck? Did I die here and you cloned me and didn¡¯t fucking tell me? Because my wife is gonna be pissed. I think that legally ends our marriage.¡± Mark said the last part as a joke, but James could tell he was actually upset. James tilted his head up and tried to remember every one of the too-many names in their memorial. ¡°Wait, what¡¯s your last name?¡± He asked suddenly. ¡°Diaz. Like it-¡° ¡°Like it says on the¡­ yeah, wow. Okay. So, you¡¯re not a clown or any- clone or anything. God I can¡¯t talk today. This is perfect for diplomacy. You¡¯re at the tail end of a weird coincidence, because we actually had someone with your same name who was here when¡­ well. You can ask Reed or Nikhial about it, if you want.¡± Mark shifted to the side as a camraconda slithered by, leading a nervous looking ratroach who flinched away as the big man made an ¡°Oop, sorry¡± utterance. ¡°So, not a clone?¡± He asked James. ¡°Not to my knowledge.¡± ¡°Ghost?¡± Mark prompted. ¡°Sometimes people have the same name!¡± Mark folded his arms and scratched at his beard. ¡°Around here? The last time someone said that, it turned out to be a clone.¡± James rolled his eyes and somehow crushed his desire to get into this argument. As much as he wanted to get into the taxonomy of whatever Ben was, he didn¡¯t have the time. ¡°Man I¡¯ve got two minutes left and I still need to load a set of mags. Can we talk about this after the forum tonight?¡± ¡°Sure, sure. We can talk about our dystopian architecture too. I¡¯ve got some ideas.¡± Mark nodded. James desperately wanted to dig into that, too, but he was low on time and on loaded bullets, so he just rapidly ducked past and hustled to the elevator, a million curiosities popping up in his way as he did so. But he¡¯d have time later to hear about their potion production line, ask after the weirdly expanded park in the lobby around the elevator, and join the multi-sided argument about space elevator construction. Right now he was in a hurry. _____ The cafe was its usual self, save for the slight change of different counter staff that James didn¡¯t have as much of a wizard rapport with, music that was a little too loud today, and a cold feeling that absolutely wasn¡¯t normal. Not just because it was cold. Though it was, and James still hadn¡¯t gotten around to playing dice with another batch of purples to try to get some kind of magical thermal underwear. But cold because this place, this space that he went to with his partners and friends and dog, where he sometimes saw Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight, where he went to decompress and process things when he was having a hard time, was now¡­ something else. It was a place where someone had kicked over the comfortable illusion of safety and reminded James that if anyone really wanted him dead, they could probably find him. By accident even. And yeah, he was exaggerating that a little bit. He and Anesh and Alanna did joke about how someone would try to shoot them eventually, and that was probably true, but it wasn¡¯t like assassins were lining up to take shots at him. Harlan knowing where he got coffee was pretty low on the list of security risks anyway, comparatively. Unless Harlan was lying. But that was unlikely. Alanna¡¯s empathy power was pushed well into inhuman ability at this point, and her read on the enigmatic mercenary pointed to someone who was stumbling blind. Which was still worrying, since anyone stumbling around while that heavily armed was an issue, but it did sort of put Harlan below the local police department in terms of ranking people who might try to shoot him. ¡°Do you wonder if Planner is having an aneurysm right now?¡± Alex asked, poking at the coffee cup on the table. The two of them were sat facing each other, with a clear view of each potential entrance, though away from most of the other tables. Despite the controlled skulljack connection letting them speak or message each other silently, Alex still chose to speak out loud. James flicked a fingernail against his own empty cup. ¡°I think I am. ¡° He muttered back. ¡°You know, when someone from a shadowy magical combat team says they¡¯ll meet with you, you kinda expect them to not be late.¡± ¡°Everything in Harlan¡¯s dossier makes me think they¡¯d be late.¡± Alex retorted. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s to lull us into a false sense of security.¡± ¡°Do you feel secure?¡± James asked honestly as he gave a mental nudge to Zhu just to check in with the navigator. Zhu was mostly ¡®asleep¡¯ at the moment; not manifested, and not actively on a journey. It left infomorphs a bit out of sync with their hosts when they did this. They weren¡¯t exactly not there, but they weren¡¯t available for casual conversation, and they didn¡¯t see the world the same way as when they made themselves forms. James didn¡¯t get an immediate response from Zhu, so he just let the navigator keep resting. ¡°I don¡¯t feel secure.¡± He told Alex. Alex huffed, leaning forward on the table. ¡°I mean, the longer we sit here, the more silly I feel for having a whole bunch of weird gear on. The stupid boot itches.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a greave.¡± James said, and then instantly jumped to intercept what Alex was about to say with a wide grin on her face. ¡°No I¡¯m not sad! You stole this joke from Momo, I¡¯ve gotten hit with this thrice now!¡± ¡°Fuck!¡± Alex sighed. ¡°Well there goes my entertainment.¡± ¡°You need¡­ eyes up.¡± James cut himself off. ¡°Harlan¡¯s here.¡± Simple words, but all sense of fun vanished as the tattooed figure in their apparently standard-issue black turtleneck walked in. James shot a message to JP and Ben, but didn¡¯t open up a call. The expectation here was that this would be a simple exchange of information, and nothing else. He and Alex would loop JP in if anything required it. Until then, James was actually authorized to negotiate. JP had even made him take yellow orbs for it. Etiquette - Sales had actively made James feel slimy, while Law - Business - Contract had just left him with a blanket understanding of how to structure terms for deals like this that he hoped he wouldn¡¯t need to get into the gritty details of. James also wasn¡¯t sure why they just had those orbs lying around, and JP had just muttered something about it being a late Christmas gift and then banished James to the meeting. James set that aside as he watched Harlan move in, the supposed leader of the Wolfpack ignoring any pretense of being at a cafe to order off the menu, and zeroing in on their table. They moved with a kind of deliberate walk that James was starting to learn to recognize as the motion of someone who was ready to do violence on short notice. ¡°Do I get a chair?¡± Harlan asked, the slight amount of very real confusion in their voice shattering the illusion of someone who was in complete control. James just pointed at an empty table next to them, and Harlan rapidly flipped a chair around by its back, deftly settling into it. ¡°So. Made your decision?¡± Making a tiny hand motion to stop Alex from being snarky about how Harlan was late, James just answered simply. ¡°Yeah. Info for info. We tell you where your people are, you answer a few questions.¡± Harlan¡¯s eyebrows went up ever so slightly. ¡°Don¡¯t want to know about an extra door or two?¡± ¡°Oh, I absolutely do.¡± James said, filing away yet another alternate term for dungeons on his head. ¡°And we can add that if you can¡¯t or won¡¯t answer.¡± He folded his hands under his chin and leaned forward. ¡°And you¡¯ll answer first, obviously.¡± If the insinuation that the Order was slightly more trustworthy than the Wolfpack offended Harlan, they didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Ask then.¡± They said simply, voice lightly melodious. ¡°What do you know about the pillars?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± The answer actually did catch James off guard. He¡¯d expected at least a cryptic warning. ¡°How about what¡¯s going on in New York?¡± ¡°The job opportunities?¡± Harlan said the words in the cadence of someone making air quotes. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of money getting shuffled around. But it wasn¡¯t worth it; even if they were acceptable. Too much risk, something weird going on.¡± ¡°Weird is relative.¡± Alex pointed out. Harlan glanced at her like they hadn¡¯t paid attention to the fact that she was someone different than last time. ¡°Not like this.¡± They said. ¡°This was too much. Every piece of local talent on at least two sides, everyone getting drawn in, everyone forgetting. We took two jobs, then left when the memories got bad. The Wolfpack is very good at recognizing when our memories go sour.¡± The words were said with grim conviction. ¡°So you were there.¡± James sighed. Harlan shrugged. ¡°We kill monsters.¡± The operative offered. ¡°We don¡¯t have to do it for free. Better us than someone who won¡¯t care about the crossfire.¡± ¡°So, to be clear here¡­¡± James tried to keep his voice even, and was pretty sure he failed. ¡°¡­you are talking about murdering finance execs and account managers, yes?¡± ¡°Well, killing. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d call it murder.¡± Harlan¡¯s voice was exactly the same even tone, like they really didn¡¯t care. ¡°For money. That was only one job, though. The other one was taking out some dumb fuck who was growing a more literal monster in a tenement so he could milk it for a wild drug. Him and his friends. And the monster.¡± Harlan stopped talking, leaving James and Alex leaning forward slightly and thirsty for more details. ¡°What?¡± Alex cracked first. ¡°What¡­ where did the monster come from?¡± ¡°Tampa.¡± ¡°No, the literal monster, not the dude!¡± ¡°Oh. Dunno. Doesn¡¯t really matter. There¡¯s a lot of things wandering around, though people forget most of them.¡± Harlan gave an unconvincing shrug. ¡°Any other questions?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James said, looking away briefly to flick his eyes to someone walking by outside before continuing. ¡°Though if you wanna chat later I¡¯d love to circle back to everything you just said. But, the important one. From an outside perspective, what do you know about us?¡± Harlan cocked their head, then gave an appreciative nod, a vicious smile spreading on their lips. Around the corner, an espresso machine hissed. The sound of growing conversation pressed in around their somewhat isolated table. ¡°Security testing.¡± They said. ¡°That¡¯s a good sign.¡± ¡°According to your flowchart?¡± James snarked lightly, keeping an eye on the flow of foot traffic out the window near them, and through the rear door of the cafe. ¡°No.¡± Harlan denied with a dismissive confidence. They said the word the same way they did last time, right before Alanna had told James that Harlan didn¡¯t trust a single thing they said. ¡°James Lyle, Paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms. You keep popping up in weird places, personally and as a group. Recently, you pissed off a watcher cadre in Utah somehow. And you spooked the feds enough that they¡¯re making a whole new division for you. Which means that Russian and British intelligence are too. And your fake police force has a lot of people worried that you¡¯re going to break through the mundane barrier and get a lot of attention. No one knows where the fuck you operate from, though. Or how many people you¡¯ve got. Or what you can do, aside teleport small groups.¡± Harlan shrugged. ¡°You scare powerful people. Keep it up. They¡¯re all assholes.¡± ¡°Even you?¡± James asked, curious. ¡°Especially us.¡± Harlan said, no trace of humor in their voice. ¡°We¡¯re monsters, same as everyone else. We¡¯ll be the last ones you need to kill, but don¡¯t leave me off the list.¡± ¡°Dramatic much?¡± Alex punctuated her quiet words with a grunt as she watched someone go past outside. Then she frowned, and sent James a mental message. ¡°Hey, is that the same guy?¡± She asked. ¡°I noticed it too.¡± James said. ¡°Keep an eye on him. It might be nothing, but don¡¯t let us get caught off guard.¡± It took him under a second to compose and fire off the words, though rapidly formatting messages across the skulljacks like that tended to leave typos and missing articles. But it let him keep his attention on Harlan. ¡°No one can find us, huh?¡± He raised his eyebrows. Harlan nodded once. ¡°Not casually. And no one I¡¯ve got record of. We don¡¯t have that many contacts though.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m noticing there don¡¯t actually seem to be that many people like us.¡± ¡°Or we can¡¯t find them. Maybe they¡¯re just like you, and the people who don¡¯t get it are the people who won¡¯t last long.¡± Harlan¡¯s eyes flicked to where Alex was looking. ¡°Your rookie stares too much.¡± They said. James cut off Alex¡¯s sputtered protest. ¡°Alright, last questions, probably. Watchers?¡± ¡°Oh, they show up everywhere eventually. Like fucking tumors. Anyone who acts like government, and treats contexts like holes to plug up. They tend to kill a lot of civilians.¡± ¡°I think we¡¯ve encountered people like that.¡± James¡¯ fingers, idly holding his empty coffee cup, crunched the thick cardboard as he found himself clenching his hand. ¡°Figures there¡¯s more of them.¡± ¡°Well, if you decide to go after them, consider hiring us. Assuming you¡¯ve got the money.¡± Harlan offered. ¡°Protocol¡¯s clear on that part.¡± They added. ¡°So. My people?¡± ¡°Here.¡± James slid a slip of paper with GPS coordinates on it over to them. ¡°Alaskan wilderness. They¡¯re working with a group of¡­ well, okay, I can¡¯t honestly call them ecoterrorists, because I think the original group died or got subverted or something. Either way, we ran into them because they were active in New York too, though clearly you lost them a bit before that.¡± James took Harlan¡¯s small and subconscious nod as confirmation. ¡°That spooky FBI department you were talking about is looking into them, and might know where they are.¡± This was a convenient partial truth. They did know where they were, because James had told them. ¡°They¡¯ve got your attack chopper, and your teleporter.¡± ¡°I knew we had another-¡° Harlan cut their own words off, then offered James a grin that tired to mask sheepish embarrassment for revealing too much with something pretending to be cold anger. ¡°Heh. Well. I promised you a context too. What¡¯s your poison? Lethal, dangerous, or useless?¡± ¡°I have a looooot of questions.¡± Alex eyed Harlan. ¡°Tough. This isn¡¯t worth more answers.¡± Harlan pocketed the paper slip. Alex ignored the hostility. ¡°No, I meant about the du- context. Whatever. What¡¯s the difference between lethal and dangerous?¡± ¡°Oh. Lethal to you, or dangerous to the surrounding real world.¡± Harlan flicked their eyes up, like they were trying to remember something. ¡°Not sure why we went with that. Kinda awkward, isn¡¯t it?¡± James and Alex shared a worried glance. It was one thing to get confirmation that the Wolfpack were essentially vaguely idealistic mercenaries. It was another to see these small bits of degradation that had happened to Harlan¡¯s own mind in person. The look, though, caused both of them to notice something at the same time. ¡°Okay, that guy¡¯s suspicious.¡± James mumbled out loud as the same person circled the building for the third time. Well, the third time he¡¯d noticed. ¡°Harlan, do you¡­¡± he trailed off as the man, dark skin and a patchy goatee with a puffy black coat on, finished his latest lap of the building and pushed his way through the front door. James allowed himself a tiny bit of relaxation at the thought that the man was just here to get coffee and maybe had some weird habits. ¡°He seems familiar.¡± Harlan¡¯s calm words, in light of what James knew about the mercenary, were abruptly terrifying. ¡°We should get out of here.¡± Alex said. ¡°Agreed.¡± James slid her his telepad on the edge of the table, keeping his own eyes on the short, somewhat unkempt man who really did look like he was having a horrible day. ¡°Harlan, want a ride? We¡¯ll drop you off somewhere.¡± ¡°I¡­ feel like I should recognize him.¡± Harlan said, voice cracking slightly before they put the mask back in place. ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll take an exit. Want to kneecap this one and take him along?¡± They didn¡¯t break their gaze on the man, who had stopped in the middle of the cafe. The barista was also giving him an exhausted look, though hers was less suspicious and more just ¡®dude come on, order already¡¯. James rolled his eyes silently next to Harlan. ¡°No, I-¡° ¡°I¡¯m very sorry everyone.¡± The man¡¯s voice cut across the music and conversation with a mild Mexican accent. Most of the patrons ignored him, though a few people did look up from laptops or pause their chats. This place wasn¡¯t exactly packed today, but there were a good twenty or so people in here at this point. ¡°Almost everyone.¡± The last words were said as the man turned to glare directly at James and Harlan, and reached into his coat to pull out a small metal cube. ¡°Oh fuck.¡± James uttered, kicking himself up from his chair. The man raised his arm and moved to slam the cube into the ground, as Harlan fluidly beat James to a standing position and started unloading their sidearm into the man. ¡°No!¡± James shouted, yanking Harlan¡¯s arm down a second too late to stop the collection of plastic cutlery and napkins available for customers from getting splashed with blood. He wasn¡¯t the only one screaming, as many of the patrons scrambled for the doors or dove to the floor. The man slammed into the wood paneling of the island in the center of the room as Harlan gunned him down, the cube dropping from his hand, and pinging off the floor. The instant it did, something rippled. Out, and then back, rebounding inside the room, around the building, across the cafe. The cube began to glow, and then pulsed again, stronger this time. It glowed brighter, and brighter, the metal turning practically molten. James felt his eyes drawn to it unable to look away. In his chest, Zhu stirred abruptly to life, alarm shooting through the navigator. James had only seconds to react, and had only barely processed that they needed to get out, or take cover, or something, when Alex threw herself between him and Harlan, and the cube. The object pulsed one last time. A solid wall of an incorrect shockwave pushing out from it. Painless heat and light in a sphere that rapidly reached the edges of the structure. James felt the air around them go cold as Alex triggered her Winter¡¯s Climb spell, her arms crossed in front of herself like she could block the whole thing. And, being fair, maybe she could. She timed it perfectly, her Sewer lesson¡¯s synergy letting her use her half second of invincibility to make herself into a shield. A reflex she¡¯d had drilled into her through hundreds of training runs at the Order. Then he was gone. So was Harlan. So was everything. Alex¡¯s breath ran out, and she collapsed to her knees, dropping several inches to a chunk of exposed rebar that she tore her jeans on as she did so. Cold rushed into the air around her. Nearby, pipes that no longer had caps on them began spraying water up into the air. Severed wires sparked against whatever they hit as they dropped to the ground, unsupported. The smell of a lot of blood reached her. Alex sat alone, in the foundation of what used to be James¡¯ favorite cafe. The entire building gone. ¡°JP.¡± She croaked out around a gasp for breath that brought too much kicked up dust into her mouth. ¡°Ben. Someone!¡± Alex fumbled mentally for the control to call someone with her skulljack, not trusting her frozen fingers to manage her phone properly. ¡°Fuck!¡± She screamed the word into the sky. Alex fumbled in her pocket as she heard panicked voices approaching. Her head was still spinning, but the disappearance of a whole building absolutely was going to get notice from the people in either of the restaurants literally next door. Already she could hear someone shouting to ask if she was alright, people frantically calling 911. She couldn¡¯t be here right now. She had to get back. Alex tore the telepad that she still had on her, and fell on her ass again in the briefing warehouse, trading unhelpful shouts for shouts from people who would be able to do something about this problem. Fuck, she hoped they¡¯d be able to do something about this problem Chapter 222 ¡°The less you eat, drink and read books; the less you go to the theatre, the dance hall, the public house; the less you think, love, theorize, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more you save-the greater becomes your treasure which neither moths nor dust will devour-your capital. The less you are, the more you have; the less you express your own life, the greater is your alienated life-the greater is the store of your estranged being.¡± -Karl Marx and Fredreich Engles- ____ Space snapped into place around him with the smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. This was, in and of itself, not the weirdest experience James had ever had. It was the most pleasant teleport he¡¯d been offered, though. He assumed it was a teleport, anyway; it had that feel to it, and the fact that he could say that was just yet another sign of how weird his life had gotten. The telepads were still his gold standard for teleportation as a day-to-day travel method. He wasn¡¯t a fan of the weird Wolfpack ¡®make a bubble of somewhere else¡¯ thing, since it had sort of had a lot of turbulence. And he absolutely hated the old Akashic Sewer teleportation, just on principle. And because it smelled awful. This one, in contrast, smelled great, and the only problem it had generated was that the wave of painless heat and light seemed to have removed Alex from existence. That might just be the cafe smell, though. They were still in the cafe. As he blinked spots out of his vision, the whole place seemed to still be around them, dark wood walls, tiny potted plants, and stylish decorations still intact. The lights were out, though. And whatever was outside the windows was similarly dark. Someone was screaming. A lot of people were screaming, actually, but one of them sounded bad. The kind of hoarse, devastated scream of someone who had been hurt in a way they didn¡¯t know was possible. Harlan got their bearings before James did, jerked their arm out of his grip with an exact motion, and made the situation worse by shooting the man that had brought the cube in another three times in the head. The body slumped against the wooden cabinet around a garbage can didn¡¯t react, except to jerk as Harlan added more gore to the scene. ¡°Stop fucking shooting people!¡± James bellowed. Harlan shot James an irate glance, but at least didn¡¯t keep pulling the trigger. Around them, the cries and screams kept going. People who¡¯d been thrown to the floor by whatever happened, or who were just taking cover already, yelling for help or pleading not to be shot. The cafe had devolved into chaos. James, though, zeroed in on the scream that sounded like it was someone actually injured, and ran to that, moving as well as he could in the darkness. There was still some light from glowing points outside the windows that looked like streetlights. Though after what just happened, James wasn¡¯t about to claim he knew that¡¯s what they were with any certainty. And between that, and the score of phones and laptop screens, James made it to the man next to the front door without tripping. He was still screaming as James crouched near him and instantly found the problem. His arm was missing. Severed off just above the elbow, a disc of flesh and exposed bone showing that James would have called clean if not for the river of blood draining out of it. ¡°Medic!¡± He yelled. ¡°Alex! Where the fuck¡­!¡± James was halfway through yanking his coat off and wrapping it around the man¡¯s stump when he remembered Alex was gone. ¡°Harlan! Or anyone who¡¯s a doctor or something!¡± He clamped his hands around the man¡¯s wound. ¡°Stop thrashing, man! Help me hold this!¡± One of the patrons crawled over to where James was, keeping low. ¡°Holy fuck.¡± The man said when he saw the bloody mess. ¡°He wasn¡¯t shot!¡± He didn¡¯t explain anything, just pushing James hands aside firmly and pulling the sleeves of the coat into a makeshift tourniquet. ¡°Hold this.¡± He said in a low stern voice to the victim. ¡°Of course not.¡± Harlan¡¯s voice cut over the ongoing cries. ¡°I don¡¯t miss. What happened?¡± ¡°Guy¡¯s arm¡¯s missing.¡± James said. ¡°Also what the fuck, put your gun away!¡± ¡°Um¡­!¡± The other man who¡¯d made his way to James blanched as Harlan casually walked up to them. ¡°I¡¯m just an EMT, man!¡± Harlan didn¡¯t even reply to him. ¡°We¡¯re outside somewhere.¡± They said, trying to look out the window of the cafe. ¡°You should calm everyone down, before¡­¡± A cluster made a break for it, running from the gunshots and whatever the explosion of light had been, four or five young people who looked like students abandoning books and laptops to sprint for the back door. ¡°Wait, no!¡± James¡¯ brain suddenly realized what Harlan meant when they said ¡®outside¡¯. ¡°Wait!¡± The other patrons ducked as he yelled, while one of the students screamed again and they all rushed for to yank the glass paneled door open and flee into the night. James was no stranger to panic, and how it could blind you to obvious things. But he was pretty sure they should have noticed how the afternoon, grey and dim as it was, had transformed into night. And he was already running after them, because he saw where this was going. Heedless, the kids sprinted out of the cafe in a mad rush, across the sidewalk that absolutely hadn¡¯t been behind the cafe before, into the street. It was only when they realized they had run onto asphalt that they started to slow in confusion. Which was when one of the streetlights twisted down next to them, the orange glowing bulb in it casting unfamiliar angled shadows across the road as it peered at them like a lit eye. The students paused. Even inside the cafe, as he ran past, James could see some of the other patrons staring out the open door, screams dying to confused whispers as the shadows stretched around the fleeing group. They stood transfixed as something strange and wonderful and completely new happened to them; a piece of what should have been terrain bending like a curious snake to look at them, light cast around like a kaleidoscope. Then one of the translucent things in those shadows lunged out and wrapped around one of the girls. And made a sickening crunch as barely visible fangs, hidden in the lengthening shadows, pierced into her skin and flesh. James leapt over the sidewalk as his high speed sprint got him close enough, slamming his shoulder into the second fanged shadow and knocking it back briefly as the street light turned its glowing eye to him. ¡°Back in the cafe!¡± He shouted. The students did not listen, and instead started to scatter, with one of them trying to grab their friend who was being lifted up off the ground. James shoved the guy aside and drew his pistol from the concealed holster at his back, rapidly shooting into the space where he could see something like a thin film in the air that connected the teeth to the lamp. Clear blood spilled, and after the fifth or sixth shot, it had dropped the girl and jerked backward, which was when James let out a Breath, manifested a third arm that he gave spiked knuckles to the fist of, and slammed it into the incoming second set of invisible fangs. Then he shifted his stance slightly and unloaded the rest of the mag into the streetlamp, shattering the crystal covering and popping the bulb, the ¡®body¡¯ of it going limp and sprawling into a loose coil of metallic flesh on the asphalt. Something inside James incremented. ¡°What is happening?!¡± The guy screamed in terror. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in a second. Get her back inside!¡± He pointed back at the cafe with his extra arm, noting that the translucent attackers were a lot more visible when there were fewer weird shadows around them. But there were still streetlights all down this road, at irregular intervals, and James needed to catch up to the others. With his normal hands, he flicked the empty magazine out of his gun and smoothly pulled another from his belt to reload, lamenting that he hadn¡¯t brought a gun bangle, or the fucking fireball gun. ¡°Okay.¡± He took a breath, trying to banish the creeping chill from his use of a Mountain spell, and then started running after some of the others who¡¯d scattered. He got to three of them before they got too far. And was greeted by a screamed ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me!¡± From one of them, who reflexively covered her face with her hands. The scream made James wince, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because this was a dungeon. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna kill you.¡± He said in a low voice. ¡°I didn¡¯t do this, and I don¡¯t know what happened, but this place is wrong. Get back to the cafe, it¡¯s gonna be safer there, please. Your friend is hurt, and needs you there.¡± He punctuated the words by holstering his gun and spreading his hands. One of them just pointed open mouthed at his extra arm, the blue tinted ice seeming to host a deep darkness in the darkness of the street. ¡°Look, that¡¯s not the weirdest thing here. You just got attacked by a lamp. Come on.¡± There was a scream from the other direction down the road, and James smothered a groan. ¡°Lopa!¡± One of the guys yelled, and started doing that kind of half-run toward the source, craning his neck like he was trying to see what was happening. ¡°We have to-¡° ¡°Cafe!¡± James said, gesturing with his other hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got this!¡± His gun was back in his palm, the weight disturbing in how comforting it had become as he started running. He zeroed in on another scream, soles of his shoes pounding on the asphalt as he let his purple enhancements push him beyond how fast a human was supposed to be able to get up to speed. He found the girl sprawled on the sidewalk a half block away, next to a leafy hedge in front of what looked like the silhouette of a suburban home. James didn¡¯t have time to take in the scenery, as the girl was currently kicking at something that looked like it was growing out of the hedge; four legs and a flat muzzle, the impression of the shape of a dog. Only with thick skin, and some kind of twisting organic lines leading back into the vegetation. James arrived and aimed an awkward kick at its head, sending the creature jerking back with a wet crack as its hide split open like a pumpkin, complete with pungent smell. Before it could recover, he grabbed the girl¡¯s outstretched hand and hauled her up. ¡°Let¡¯s get the fuck out of here.¡± He said, leading her back to the cafe. By the time they returned, things had not calmed down. There was more yelling, more people trying to leave. Two people were directly yelling at Harlan, who was just ignoring them, but at least they hadn¡¯t tried to restrain them. James came in with the girl, Lopa, letting her run to her friends as he tugged the door shut behind him. For all the good an incredibly breakable glass pane would do against anything in a dungeon. He took a deep breath. The air already smelled different. Whatever the smell of their teleportation had been, it had faded rapidly, but now even the coffee and pastry scent of the cafe was being pushed down. Something thick and cloying coming in from outside, a sickly sweet smell that was thin now, but growing bit by bit. James had noticed it when he¡¯d rushed out after the students, along with the fact that the air here was warmer than the wintery chill back on Earth, but now that he wasn¡¯t shooting anything it was harder to get away from. That wasn¡¯t important though. What was important was that there were people here, in the middle of a dungeon, where someone had fucking teleported a whole building. And then died. The dying part was important. James saw Harlan checking the body, and winced. That wasn¡¯t a great look. ¡°Alright.¡± He said to himself. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t know what to do, really. He just hadn¡¯t planned on this today. And he was tired. ¡°Okay. Excuse me, everyone!¡± He raised his voice. The yelling came back. And worse. People noticed him, noticed he wasn¡¯t panicking. Someone demanded to know what he had done, someone else started crying. This was a lot different than last time. ¡°Holy shit, I¡¯m not good at this.¡± James breathed out. He knew, for a fact, that trying to yell over everyone wouldn¡¯t help. The darkened room was packed with people who were scared, half of them of him, and yelling wasn¡¯t going to solve anything. And worse, they were on something of a time limit to get organized. ¡°Okay! I¡¯d like to explain what¡¯s happening! Can everyone please just¡­ just not panic for a second? I realize that¡¯s kind of a stupid thing to say, but we¡¯ve gotta sort this out!¡± The words, said with a kind of self-aware humor at how dumb they sounded, actually worked. The people who heard James gave the kind of nervous laughs that you got when someone who was having the worst day of their life suddenly heard a joke. People around them noticed too, and, while the sounds of a crowd didn¡¯t cease, a lot of them did turn their phone flashlights toward James, illuminating him standing in the middle of the floor. Further helping, one of the baristas spoke up. ¡°I know him! He¡¯s okay!¡± Something small and meaningless, but even that little thing was reassuring to the cluster of terrified civilians. ¡°Alright.¡± James said, taking a deep breath. ¡°What happened to us!?¡± Someone shouted, and got a wave of agreement. Before that could get too loud and waste more time, James rapidly answered. ¡°It looks like the whole building got moved somewhere else. Somewhere pretty dangerous, from the looks of things.¡± He glanced back to the injured student - high school or college he didn¡¯t know - where the other barista had gotten out their first aid kit from under the counter and was using too many bandages to seal up her puncture wounds. ¡°I know how weird that sounds. You can argue with me later, and you won¡¯t when you see what¡¯s outside. If anyone has cell service, try calling who you can, but I doubt it will work. Though let me know if you do, I¡¯ve got a number that might help. Right now, is anyone else injured?¡± Everyone checked themselves, and then a pair of women who reminded James of more pleasant versions of his mom started checking on everyone else. There was an older man in a wheelchair who couldn¡¯t actually talk much and who¡¯s caretaker had been outside when they¡¯d warped, and the husband of a married couple who had gotten his ankle stomped on during the frantic explosion of panic earlier. ¡°They¡¯re going to be dead weight.¡± Harlan said from where they slipped up to James¡¯ side. It didn¡¯t sound malicious, just appraising. ¡°No they aren¡¯t.¡± James said with sigh. Harlan looked at him, and a few people who heard him gave him alarmed looks as well. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s pretty mercenary of you. And I¡¯m saying that, which I think means something.¡± In response, James pulled his backup telepad out of a coat pocket. ¡°Wheel that guy over to the armless dude. Excuse me, ma¡¯am, can you move your husband over by the door?¡± He raised his voice. ¡°And the two injured girls in the back, Lopa and¡­ I don¡¯t know, whoever¡¯s hurt. The six of you. Up here please, if you need help ask.¡± James took a pen and wrote the Lair¡¯s coordinates as they nervously collected themselves. The EMT gave him a worried look as he kept pressure on the severed stump of the man¡¯s arm. ¡°He¡¯s going into shock.¡± He told James. ¡°If no one¡¯s coming¡­¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°Alright, you six. Hold hands. Or¡­ uh¡­¡± He mentally slapped his forehead as he looked at the one armed victim on the floor. ¡°Skin contact, in some way. Hands are easiest, but the six of you need to be touching.¡± ¡°W-why?¡± The girl who had been bitten asked. Her makeup had lines carved by tears in it, and her voice was high pitched and close to breaking from the pain. ¡°What¡¯s happening?! Are you going to kill us now?!¡± ¡°No.¡± James said reassuringly. ¡°There¡¯s a guaranteed way to safety.¡± He looked down at the telepad in his hand, and briefly considered¡­ a lot of things. Then he stopped considering, and crushed the blooming seed of guilt in his chest. ¡°But it only works for six people. So here.¡± He handed the girl the telepad. ¡°Link up. Everyone good? Yeah? Okay. Tear the page. You, keep a grip on that wound, okay? There will be people where you arrive who will help you. Tell them everything. And tell them we¡¯re not dead. And¡­ and¡­¡± He looked out the dark window. He didn¡¯t have time for this. Didn¡¯t have time to waste having a panic attack now. ¡°When you meet Anesh or Alanna, tell them that I love them very much, and I¡¯ll see them when I get out of here.¡± He grinned at the assembled group. ¡°My name¡¯s James, by the way. I¡¯ll ask you yours when I get back. Now go!¡± The girl gave him a disbelieving look, but tore the page anyway, leaving James standing in a now-clear part of the cafe near the front door, standing next to a crouched EMT and an empty wheelchair. He hoped that part wouldn¡¯t be too much of a problem. ¡°What about us?¡± The man whispered. ¡°We get out the hard way.¡± James said, turning back to everyone who had been watching. ¡°And from now on I¡¯m carrying more than one backup. Actually, shit. Harlan! Teleport us out of here!¡± ¡°Can¡¯t, paladin.¡± Harlan shrugged. ¡°Mine needs to be targeted.¡± ¡°They all need to be targeted! Don¡¯t fucking tell me there are teleports that are random! That¡¯s insane and I¡¯m running out of patience for magical bullshit today!¡± James called back to them. Harlan just gave James a level stare. ¡°Targeted from the outside.¡± He repressed an urge to sigh again. Nothing was ever easy. Teleportation was supposed to make life easy. ¡°Okay.¡± James waved his arms. ¡°Everyone come on in. Gather round. We¡¯ve gotta sort this out.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d love to know what¡¯s happening aside from you telling us we¡¯re gonna die.¡± The EMT said in a voice that was more steady than James expected. ¡°Where¡¯d those people go?¡± A man in a pink beanie and a lot of tye-dye asked, pointing to the door. ¡°And is this going to impact my tips?¡± A barista asked. James looked at the barista first. So did everyone else. A couple people started yelling at them to shut up, to not make jokes, that this was serious. But James just started laughing. ¡°Ohhhhh man, yeah.¡± He nodded sadly. ¡°It¡¯s also gonna ruin your resume. You¡¯ll go to apply for a job, and they¡¯ll say ¡®why did you leave your last position¡¯ and you¡¯ll have to tell them that the building got kicked out of reality. That¡¯s gonna be awkward!¡± He cleared his throat, and scanned the group, noting a few twitchy smiles. At least he¡¯d gotten them around to not thinking he was gonna shoot them. Though maybe he could keep Harlan back for a while. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m gonna say some shit, and it¡¯s gonna sound insane, and I acknowledge that. Please wait until the end to interrupt.¡± He took a breath. ¡°I¡¯m part of a group that explores spaces connected to our world, but outside of reality. This appears to be one of them. I don¡¯t know how an entire building got dumped into it, or which one this is, or why that asshole decided you all were acceptable collateral, but I can tell you this place is going to be hostile to us. As for the people who vanished earlier, I had a way to teleport on me. So I sent them home, because they were the six most vulnerable or injured, and that¡¯s the cap.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t have a right to make that choice!¡± A man with perfectly wavy hair and a soul patch and scarf that matched his outfit choice of ¡®everything black¡¯ snapped at James. ¡°Okay. I will not be engaging with that right now.¡± James bluntly shut him down and ignored the indignant sputtering. ¡°So. Here¡¯s the only way this is going to work. We need to figure out where we are, figure out where the exit is, and figure out how to get from here to there without dying. Because let me tell you, we¡¯re sitting here and it seems fine, but this place is not nice. But I swear that I will do everything I can to get you all home. Harlan too, though they¡¯re going to be creepy about it.¡± James gestured to Harlan. ¡°Homes are an illusion, kid.¡± The guy in what James instantly thought of as too much tye-dye said. ¡°Your home is wherever god put you!¡± James nodded politely. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m glad that works for you. I¡¯m gonna put myself somewhere else. And I¡¯ll keep you safe if you wanna come with me.¡± ¡°Why us?¡± One of the students asked in a shaking voice that bordered on a whine. Understandable, really, so James didn¡¯t hold it against her. ¡°Why is this happening to me?¡± ¡°I think someone was trying to murder Harlan, and didn¡¯t care about who was around.¡± James jerked his thumb to where Harlan was lurking by a window, peering out into the night. ¡°I¡¯d ask him, but¡­¡± A lot of people¡¯s eyes crept over to where the human corpse was still slumped on there floor. ¡°They killed him¡­¡± ¡°What?¡± Harlan asked as they rejoined the group. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°You. Him. Killed.¡± James pointed and glared. ¡°Did I?¡± Harlan asked. ¡°Huh. Hope he deserved it.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. James widened his eyes, face tight. ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t joke.¡± ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± One of the baristas asked in a mutter. ¡°Harlan, you fucking¡­ how have you lived this long?!¡± James burst out in a sudden yell. ¡°This is the most reckless shit I¡¯ve ever seen! You can¡¯t just feed every new memory you make back into more violence! What the fuck are you even doing?!¡± Harlan faced him with a curious and stoic expression. ¡°I¡¯m doing what is needed to win.¡± They said. ¡°Why would you ever do anything less?¡± They flipped something through the air to James; a single 9mm bullet. But something was wrong with it; it practically vibrated in James¡¯ palm as he snatched it. ¡°Because I¡¯ve got priorities beyond shooting people? I don¡¯t fucking know! A million reasons!¡± James snapped back. ¡°No more feeding your memories into bullets!¡± ¡°You forget that you are not my leader. We¡®re equals.¡± Harlan looked at James evenly. ¡°Or so I¡¯ve been told.¡± In the background, James caught the edge of someone whispering ¡°Mom and dad are fighting¡­¡± and a snicker from one of the students. He pressed the knuckles of a hand into his forehead. ¡°Alright.¡± He breathed out. ¡°I hate you so much right now. Does anyone here have a problem with anything so far, aside from this asshole?¡± No one said anything. ¡°No one gonna ask if magic is real or something? That¡¯s usually how this goes.¡± ¡°You¡­ uh¡­¡± the EMT jerked his chin up at James in a nod. ¡°You¡¯ve got an extra arm.¡± ¡°Oh, right.¡± James dismissed the Mountain spell, letting his new limb break into fragile ice that would probably be a slipping hazard on the floor. ¡°Okay. We need to take stock here. Does anyone have any military experience here?¡± No one raised their hands, which actually kind of surprised James. He¡¯d seen one of the guys here around the cafe before in camo fatigues, but he guessed that was just a bizarre fashion choice. When it came to medical, though, there were several hits. The study group actually were med students, and with the EMT, they had a good five people left who knew a bit more than basic first aid. For other useful skills, one guy went camping a lot, and the guy in the beanie got a lot more direct about being homeless and knowing how to manage rough living. And that was kind of it. ¡°I¡¯m a history major who reads poetry all day instead of working! What the hell am I supposed to contribute to an adventuring party?!¡± The scarfed man cut to the heart of the issue with a sentence that annihilated any irritation James had felt toward him. ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ I do SCA stuff. Does that count?¡± A guy with a beard worthy of a dwarf warrior and an eyepatch offered. ¡°Well, you know, used to.¡± He tapped his leg with the cane in his hand, and James really wanted to ask what had happened, since he looked late thirties at most. ¡°That counts enough. Harlan, give him a sword.¡± James said. ¡°What? No.¡± Harlan frowned. ¡°That¡¯s my sword.¡± ¡°Are you going to use a sword and a gun at the same time like you¡¯re some kind of action movie hero that can aim one handed and cut through trees without leverage?¡± James provoked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°No you are not. Besides, we¡¯ll need someone to run rearguard. Give him your sword. Please?¡± ¡°Huh. Notes were right, you did ask nicely.¡± Harlan pulled back the sleeve of their turtleneck and flicked their arm, the tattoo of a blade slipping off their skin and into the world in a flash of sickly light that was only visible in the darkness. They handed it out hilt first to the man, who took it with a look of deep confusion, shifting in the creaking cafe chair as he did. ¡°So. What¡¯s your plan?¡± They asked. ¡°For what?¡± ¡°For getting out of this context.¡± Harlan said. ¡°You know we can¡¯t just go in a straight line. We¡¯re dead unless you have a way to find the exit. So what is it?¡± ¡°Oh. That.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, everyone who¡¯s new here, please don¡¯t panic. I¡¯d like to introduce you to a friend of mine.¡± He dipped his mind down, and prodded at something inside himself. Layering onto the nudge the feeling of needing to go somewhere. And a second later, a dusty orange light began to clad his shoulder and left arm, trailing down his back into a feathered tail, as Zhu pulled himself awake and into his manifestation. The navigator opened a set of eyes from within the feathered pauldron he formed. ¡°Hello.¡± He greeted the crowd. ¡°So, this is a really elaborate practical joke, right?¡± Someone spoke up. One of the study group that had remained started shouting. ¡°The streetlight tried to eat us!¡± As the cafe patrons broke into a spirited argument, James cocked his head to look at Zhu. ¡°I won¡¯t lie, I thought they¡¯d be more interested in you. How¡¯s it feel?¡± He asked. ¡°Being ignored?¡± The navigator asked. ¡°No different. I¡¯m not like the others that need the right balance of thought about them to be. I am content with the motor control center of your brain and the existence of an atlas.¡± James squinted. ¡°Really?¡± He asked. ¡°Because you sound pretty indignant there.¡± Zhu made a strange sound like tires slipping on wet metal, which James took to be some kind of haughty grunt. ¡°I can¡¯t get us out, though.¡± He continued in a smaller voice. ¡°I can¡¯t even feel for how far away we are without it costing me. Costing you. And it isn¡¯t simple distance. There¡¯s something¡­ familiarly wrong, here.¡± ¡°Wrong like it¡¯s a dungeon?¡± James murmured. ¡°Wrong like the shape of it is unpleasant.¡± Zhu muttered back, dusty orange light pulsing along his body in a way that lit up the space around them both. James felt a dark feeling in his chest. The stirring, again, of that thought that maybe this time, he wasn¡¯t going to be getting out of this alive. That they really were in too deep now, and he wasn¡¯t just looking at a tough run back to the escape, but something much, much worse. He still didn¡¯t even know what the dungeon looked like, aside from a brief skirmish across a sidewalk and part of a normal enough street. That should be first on their list of things to fix. ¡°Okay.¡± James held up a hand and, waited impatiently for the tense and angry kidnapped patrons to stop their argument. ¡°Okay!¡± He added more loudly when that didn¡¯t work. ¡°We need to know what we¡¯re working with! So far, nothing¡¯s tried to break in here, which is good, but we can¡¯t count on it. Let¡¯s get most of these chairs and tables up against the windows, and move everyone into the back, okay?¡± He glanced at a barista, who shrugged. Any sense that they should keep people out of the employees only area vanished when the power, water, and sun did. ¡°Alright. Harlan, keep an eye on things here. I need two people who want to get out of table stacking duty who want to come with me and take a look around.¡± ¡°Wait, they have a gun! Why don¡¯t you take them!¡± The history poet complained. ¡°I don¡¯t have a gun!¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to come, I can¡­¡± ¡°Of course I do. I might die.¡± They sounded too enthusiastic. James tipped his head in a series of tiny jerks as he tried to process that. ¡°Alright, whatever. Also Harlan¡¯s staying here because I want an experienced fighter on site in case something shows up. And I¡¯m not going alone because places like this tend to have stuff that kills loners instantly. In my experience.¡± ¡°Your experience is fucking wild man.¡± The drifter said around a mouthful of muffin one of the baristas had given him. ¡°I wanna check this out.¡± ¡°Alright. Everyone else, move your stuff, get the back door blocked. If you¡¯ve got phones or laptops, turn em off to save battery.¡± James paused. ¡°Are there emergency lights here?¡± Harlan pulled the neck of their turtleneck aside. ¡°I¡¯ve got us covered.¡± They said, lighting up the interior and casting reflections across the black pane glass around the cafe as one of their tattoos writhed off their skin and into the world. A second later, a rainbow macaw came into being, glittering beads of light dripping from it like water to evaporate in the air around it. It cocked its head at the assembled patrons, trilling and chirping lightly before hopping onto a table and strutting back and forth as a mobile avian lamp. ¡°That¡¯s fucking cool.¡± Someone said. Several someones, really. James was one of them, too. He wasn¡¯t above admitting that was fucking cool. He helped move a couple of the heavier tables up against one of the broad windows, and aided in mopping up the pool of blood by the front door, while the other two who were coming with him stowed their stuff, and tried to find anything to defend themselves with. There was a broom and a mop in the back of the little eatery that a barista helped remove the heads from, leaving a couple mostly sturdy wooden poles. And a couple kitchen knives shoved into belts. But aside from that, well. James had gotten used to having an armory. And a strategy. And a team that he¡¯d worked with on more delves than he could remember. At least the people here were being more or less reasonable. No one was trying to do anything stupid yet, at least. Everyone was showing a remarkable amount of calm for the situation. He got the names of his two temporary partners for this scouting operation. Aurelio, who told James that he could just call him Leo if that was too hard to pronounce, in the kind of voice of someone who was exhaustedly familiar with hearing that, and Del from the other man, who started a long and uncomfortable explanation of his name as something he chose after escaping the foster care system and finding god in the woods. Well, uncomfortable to James anyway. Aurelio seemed to be taking notes on the other man¡¯s tragic backstory. ¡°Alright. Harlan, keep this place together. I¡¯ll be back when I¡¯m out of bullets.¡± He said. And then slowly pushed the front door open, wincing as he noticed the blood spray on the outside from where a man¡¯s arm had been severed outside the radius of the teleport. It was almost pitch black here. In the indeterminate distance, there were orange dots of streetlights hanging over head, but when James looked up, he couldn¡¯t even tell if there was a sky. There was a breeze that felt like the outdoors, though it had that same sickly sweet smell as had been seeping into the building. He flicked on the flashlight on his phone, set to a low power, and led the way out into the darkness with Zhu lighting up the space around him in an equal glow. The first thing that became clear was that whatever had brought them here, it brought the building, and only the building. Underfoot, something crunched, and it took him only a step or two to realize he was walking on bark chips. The patio of the cafe was gone; tables and fire pit and all. ¡°Aw man¡­¡± Del said in a voice that was far too loud. ¡°My bike was out here, man! All my stuff is gone!¡± ¡°I think,¡± James spoke quietly, ¡°that your bike is right where you left it. We moved, it stayed behind.¡± He swept the light around, trying to get a sense for where they were. It wasn¡¯t, as he¡¯d worried, completely pitch black. The sky was dark, but it was a shade lighter than everything else, so it was possible to see objects against it. It certainly wasn¡¯t easy to see, but as his eyes adjusted to the glow Zhu was putting off around them, James started to get an impression of where they were, and what was around them. He turned around and looked at the cafe, a dark boxy silhouette, with flickers of white lights inside from phones and the emergency flashlight they¡¯d had under the counter. Around it, there were tall and narrow figures reaching up to the sky; like trees, but if they were trees, they didn¡¯t sway in the breeze like James figured they should have. He looked back ahead of them as they took some cautious steps toward where he could see the texture of the ground change. As James stepped off the bark chips and onto what was more clearly cracked concrete, the tree-things gave way on either side of him and he could see the orange glow of streetlights to his left and right. Well, sort of left and right. He¡¯d almost tripped as this patch of sidewalk had been at an angle to him. Once more he glanced back at the cafe. It was easier to see the shape of it now, and it was definitely lopsided. Or at least, not lined up with the tall shapes around it, and the sidewalk. The sidewalk lined a road, the shape of which he could make out; an asphalt outline that almost, almost gave James a sense of security. After all, if anything too serious showed up, he could just stab it with the street. But he remembered his time in Route Horizon, where control of the material was fleeting and sporadic at best, and he didn¡¯t feel like a life or death situation here would be the best place to test his luck. ¡°Where¡¯re all the cars?¡± Del asked. ¡°Why did I agree to this¡­¡± Aurelio whispered. James didn¡¯t bother to tell him that he¡¯d volunteered, and did so after saying he wouldn¡¯t be good at it. ¡°Looks like we landed in something like a park or an empty lot¡­¡± He spoke softly, but pointedly did not whisper. ¡°Also, ground rules. Speak in a low tone, it doesn¡¯t carry as far as a whisper does. We check in every few minutes to make sure no one got snatched by something in the dark, but don¡¯t talk unless there¡¯s a reason. You two stay behind me, and if things look really bad, don¡¯t try to help. Book it back, and get Harlan.¡± ¡°You have spent too long practicing that spiel.¡± Aurelio told him. James could practically hear the creaking of the wood as the other man tried to crush the makeshift weapon in his hands. A dozen small quips jumped to James¡¯ lips. He wanted to say he¡¯d done this before, or that he¡¯d practiced on a live audience, or that practicing in front of a mirror was easy when you were as good looking as him. That last one he stole from JP, though, so it didn¡¯t count. But he took his own advice, and just waved a hand down in the orange light from Zhu, quieting the other two. ¡°We go that way, but not too far. Try to keep track of the way back to this spot. Be careful about the lights, and any hedges. Actually, let¡¯s walk in the road.¡± Even though he¡¯d run into it earlier, he was still apprehensive about the street. That old lived experience of not wanting to get hit by a car sticking with him. Also he wasn¡¯t sure if it was dangerous on its own, so James tested it with the toe of his shoe first. But when nothing happened, he started walking. The other two falling in behind him, though James noted that one of his temporary squadmates walked too-quick to stay close to his side, while the other guy stuck near the sidewalk a ways away, tapping at the ground with his stick like he was using it as a cane. There were no cars on the side of the road, though when he was standing in the middle of it, James could only barely see the curb. It felt like being submerged in an inky black pool. Outlines in the distance he could see, but around him, there was nothing. Just road and sidewalk. As they got closer to the part of the street illuminated by the assuredly-predatory streetlight, James started to make out larger shapes on the edges of the road. Not like the trees that reached far into the sky. These were just rough triangles poking up into that slightly lighter shade. It was like trying to see the dark part of the moon against the night sky; possible, but only if you were really looking. ¡°Roofs.¡± James said, pointing with his left arm so Zhu got a view of exactly what he was looking at, and also so the other two could follow the glowing line of his arm. ¡°There¡¯s buildings around us.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good, right?¡± Aurelio asked. ¡°We can go ask for help! We¡¯re probably just in Canada or something!¡± ¡°Keep your voice down.¡± James hissed. ¡°And no, look at the sky. This isn¡¯t anywhere on Earth, and-¡° He froze as, a couple hundred meters ahead of them, someone came into view under the streetlight. Several someones, actually. All of them shorter than James by a bit, maybe capping out a little over five feet tall. They were wearing dark hooded sweatshirts that obscured their faces - which was a massive red flag already - and walking in a very tight group. The noise of laughter and chatter reached James and his companions as the group moved through the light. And then Del made the stupidest move James could possible have imagined. ¡°Hey!¡± His voice echoed against the unnaturally quiet false night. ¡°Hey! Over here! Hey! We¡¯re lost! Where¡¯d you guys come from?!¡± His coat flapped as he waved his arms over his head. ¡°Oh you fucking¡­¡± James drew his pistol in a motion that was becoming far too practiced, double checking the safety as the crowd of human shaped figures stopped sharply, still mostly under the puddle of light. ¡°Over here!¡± Came a yell from their direction. ¡°Hey! You guys!¡± The voices sounded like teenagers. But the words, James realized quickly, were just loops of what Del had yelled at them. ¡°Hey! Here! Lost! Here!¡± The sounds of speech blurred together with mocking laughter and the rapid slapping of steps on pavement as the cluster began moving. Just as sharply as they¡¯d stopped, exploding forward and out of the light, almost totally vanishing into the darkness between where they¡¯d been spotted, and where James was standing. ¡°Fuck me.¡± James hissed. ¡°Del, back!¡± ¡°Naw, man, it¡¯s fine! They¡¯re a bunch of kids!¡± Del called over from where James could just barely see his form in the darkness. And then he started screaming as the pack of hooded figures swarmed over him; edges of their dark clothing illuminated in orange by the streetlight at their backs and Zhu ahead of them. It was hard to tell what was happening, but when the sound of flesh tearing started, James started shooting. His heightened Aim letting him extrapolate and hit targets in the dark even if he couldn¡¯t still see them; a kind of magically induced instinct on where they might be (and absolutely were) that he¡¯d never noticed before and needed to learn to push farther. The gunshots got attention. Ahead of them, the streetlight twisted slightly to peer in their direction, and the hooded mob peeled away from Del¡¯s fallen form, moving like a single organism as they ran for the cover of true darkness on the side of the road. James didn¡¯t stop shooting at them, emptying his magazine rapidly and swapping out for one of his two remaining spares in a fluid snap of his hands. ¡°Del!¡± He yelled into the sudden quiet. ¡°¡­fuck. Okay, stay with me.¡± He said to Aurelio, who had frozen up entirely and was gripping his staff in front of his face with both hands, twitching at every noise. Regrettably, none of those noises were of footsteps; the band of what were clearly not human teenagers having gone totally silent as soon as they were out of even the thin amount of sight that James had. Creeping forward, he made it to where Del had been standing. Or at least, to the edge of the scene of the attack. A wet gurgle alerted him to the fact that Del was still alive, which James would not have guessed otherwise. One of the man¡¯s arms was bent, wrapped around under his back with bone sticking out in two places. Several layers of clothing had been shredded open, and his stomach underneath hadn¡¯t held up any better; intestines and gore splayed around with the stench of filth and blood. He was missing an eye, his remaining eye bloodied and wide, staring up at nothing as James tried to keep down the urge to throw up. Aurelio didn¡¯t manage it; vomiting whatever was left of the coffee and pastry he¡¯d had from the cafe not even an hour ago onto the pavement. ¡°We need to get back. Now.¡± James hissed, flicking his eyes around for any sign of blood that wasn¡¯t human. He couldn¡¯t tell if he¡¯d hit, or damaged, the hoodies. Which was generally a bad sign. ¡°He¡­he¡­ but he¡­¡± The words were just a frantic stammer, one hand pointing a shaking finger at the person who had, within the last few seconds, transformed into a corpse. ¡°He just¡­ they¡­¡± ¡°Yeah. We need to go back. Now.¡± James said, putting a hand on Aurelio¡¯s shoulder and half pushing half guiding him to return the way they came. With a lot less careful movement and a lot more hurried power walking. Stumbling over barkchips to the door of the cafe, realizing he hadn¡¯t had a way to tell anyone inside he was coming back, but with Zhu wrapped around his arm being a good indicator that he was who he said he was, James and Aurelio slipped back inside the cafe as Harlan opened the door barricade for them. ¡°How was it?¡± They asked. ¡°Also where¡¯s the bum?¡± ¡°He didn¡¯t make it, and don¡¯t be an asshole.¡± James answered reflexively. ¡°Holy shit, it was so fast¡­¡± He holstered his gun, shaking out his sweaty palm as the event caught up to him. Feeling dazed and unsteady, James stumbled to the counter where drinks were served up, setting his palms flat on the cool surface as he just stared at nothing. ¡°I don¡¯t know where we are.¡± James said. ¡°But we¡¯re deep enough in that wandering life can rip a human open in seconds.¡± ¡°Some contexts are like that.¡± Harlan nodded. ¡°If we¡¯re on the outskirts, that¡¯s a good sign. If we¡¯re deep enough, it doesn¡¯t mean anything.¡± ¡°How could that possibly be a good sign?!¡± James snapped, glad that most of the people here were in the back and wouldn¡¯t have to see him starting to lose his cool. ¡°Harlan, we¡¯re fucked if that¡¯s what this place is like.¡± ¡°Strong guardians can always be handled with more firepower. If a context is focused on that, it often doesn¡¯t have the worst kinds of other problems. Weather, infection, mind control, that sort of thing.¡± Harlan tipped their head at James. ¡°That¡¯s one of the important things the Wolfpack learned over a lot of casualties.¡± ¡°Or so your notes say.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the bitter words back. ¡°Yes.¡± Harlan agreed without hesitation or even annoyance. ¡°Some things are better forgotten. Impersonal. Professional. That¡¯s our way. It works for us.¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t wanna have this argument now.¡± James said, suddenly exhausted. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say to you that would matter now. We¡¯re in so much trouble. We don¡¯t have firepower. Unless you¡¯ve got a rocket launcher tattooed somewhere?¡± ¡°No. Though, cards on the table, I do have a set of ball lightning inks.¡± Harlan finished replacing the furniture barricade and turned back to James. ¡°You¡¯re a survivor. A killer. The two of us, at least, we¡¯ll make it out.¡± James snapped his head up, an abrupt and unwelcome snarl on his face. ¡°And what about everyone else?!¡± He demanded. ¡°You¡¯ve got these professional ethics and your flowchart on how to act properly and all that power, and what the fuck are you doing with it?¡± He stabbed a finger in Harlan¡¯s direction. ¡°Just surviving? That¡¯s it? Kill things and take their stuff? Get by, and don¡¯t worry about anyone caught up with you?¡± James took a shaking breath, and then, quieter, added ¡°You know this was targeted at you. You¡¯re not the reason everyone is here, you¡¯re sure as fuck not responsible for this; that¡¯s not how it works. But you¡¯ve made enemies you don¡¯t even remember, and you could maybe show a little fucking compassion for the people who¡¯re turning into collateral damage.¡± ¡°No.¡± Harlan answered bluntly. ¡°Because I didn¡¯t do this. You said it already. Someone else killed everyone here, not me. I won¡¯t feel guilty for that. And if I did, I¡¯d just use it as ammo anyway.¡± Harlan didn¡¯t even look angry at James for his outburst. Just mildly curious. ¡°I¡¯ll try to help. But they¡¯re flat, and civilians at that. They¡¯re already dead, no matter what we do.¡± They smiled slightly. ¡°I guess we are having this argument now.¡± ¡°Guess so.¡± James said, voice hard. ¡°And you¡¯re wrong. I¡¯ve done this before. I¡¯ve been here before. This sucks, and I¡¯m about to fall apart, but it¡¯s not hopeless. So don¡¯t write everyone off ahead of schedule.¡± He took a breath, then another. Realized he was still panting from exertion and stress and anger. Tried to steady it, and ended up sighing instead. In a small voice, he tried to set aside his frustration. ¡°Anything serious happen while I was gone?¡± ¡°No. Hard to see outside, though. What¡¯re we looking at?¡± ¡°Streets and houses, I think.¡± James said. ¡°Like you said, hard to see. And we didn¡¯t get close to anything. Barely got a block away before¡­¡± He trailed off, a rush of emotion shoving its way up his throat. ¡°Yeah. Waiting for morning might be our best option, assuming this place has morning.¡± ¡°If it doesn¡¯t?¡± The question wasn¡¯t accusatory. Just tactical. Harlan was a consummate professional, after all. James shrugged. ¡°Then we secure one of the houses, and start moving building to building, until we find something that we can use as a way out. Worst case, we set something on fire and use that.¡± ¡°Something, in this case, being¡­¡± ¡°Maybe the whole forest around us. Or a few houses.¡± James wasn¡¯t feeling especially restrained right now. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m gonna go check on the-¡° Whatever he was about to say was cut off, as from the back kitchen, a broken warbling scream resounded, followed by the smashing of porcelain and the metal clanging of pans hitting the floor. ¡°Stay here!¡± He ordered Harlan, who seemed content enough to follow the command. Maybe he shouldn¡¯t have taunted fate, James thought as he vaulted the front counter, following Zhu¡¯s traced orange lines in the air as he avoided slipping on anything and ran for the door to the back. Chapter 223 ¡°I am an anarchist not because I believe Anarchism is the final goal, but because I believe there is no such thing as a final goal. Freedom will lead us to continually wider and expanding understanding and to new social forms of life.¡± -Rudolf Rocker, The London Years- _____ The back room of any space that you frequented, but didn¡¯t even really work at, was always something that fascinated James. Not that he¡¯d ever spent time daydreaming in class about what was in janitor¡¯s closets or the mystical upstairs of the grocery store, but¡­ well, maybe a little daydreaming. There was an invisible, social barrier there. Not a magic shield, but still something that kept people out. Which invited the question of what was so important that it needed to be kept secret. What strange and important things were kept in the back that made every employee door feel like a mystery to be solved? The answer, as he¡¯d gotten older, had been disappointing. As most answers about the world were. What was so important? Kitchen stuff. Storage. Maybe some offices. Normal, boring, mundane things. But each time he stepped into a new place, there was a feeling like being in a stranger¡¯s house. Like even though he¡¯d seen a commercial kitchen a dozen times from a dozen jobs, this one was something new and unique. That feeling came back the instant he vaulted over the cafe¡¯s counter. He¡¯d been coming here for years. Since he first moved to the no-longer-nearby apartment, since before he lost Sarah, since before he found the dungeon. And after that too. After everything. He¡¯d always had a place to go to get coffee, where he was on friendly terms and recognized with a smile, but still kind of an outsider even as he was tipping with skill orbs and bringing dungeon life to hang out. And now he was somewhere he wasn¡¯t supposed to be. Somewhere that could be a mystery. The kitchen didn¡¯t have a door, just an open arch that was done up with faux brick to make the place look older and more rustic than it actually was. The back area was a standard cramped cafe kitchen, complete with a set of dirty stainless steel counters and racks of stored baked goods in plastic bins. It also did feel properly mysterious as the rainbow light from Harlan¡¯s tattoo parrot perched on a ventilation pipe overhead made the whole place look iridescent. ¡°What¡¯s going on?!¡± James¡¯ yell competed for space with the ongoing scream of terror. He swept his gaze across the dozen people left, trying to triangulate what was going on. It wasn¡¯t hard, they were mostly all pressing back against one of the walls, while under the rainbow lights someone writhed on the floor on the opposite side. It was a bit hard to tell, what with the fact that Harlan had shot someone and another man had lost an arm not even an hour ago, but there was the smell of fresh blood. James gulped back a gag as he hurried over to where the EMT - he really needed to ask this guy his name - was crouched over one of the students who had made a break for it earlier. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± James demanded. The EMT looked up, a blue protective mask over his mouth and gloves on his hands. ¡°He started babbling, then collapsed. High fever, and he¡¯s got¡­ well, this.¡± He turned over one of the student¡¯s arms, a cut away sleeve showing oozing sores. ¡°Did he have a bag? Any medications?¡± The EMT was calling to the others, but they weren¡¯t listening. Instead, there was another yell, another scream really, as the crowd of people tried to push away from someone else who had just fallen to the floor. The other student James recognized as one of the lucky uninjured ones who had run earlier. ¡°Everyone calm down!¡± Someone bellowed. James bellowed. He caught himself off guard; his words coming out more forceful and aggressive than he¡¯d meant. But the sound and the force of his words dragged everyone¡¯s attention to him; made them listen. ¡°Step away from her. You, you¡¯re their friend. Are they on any medications they need? Is this normal?¡± The last guy in their group, a fairly young Asian man with big round glasses who was crouched over his friend as the rest of the cafe moved away, looked up at James with a strained expression. ¡°N-no. Nothing. Her arms¡­ are bleeding. And I don¡¯t¡­ feel good. Everyone should get¡­ away. Get away from us. I feel sick.¡± He said the last sentence like it was an amusing revelation, the same way a person would say ¡°Oh hey, I found five bucks in my wallet!¡± ¡°Shit.¡± Harlan was already back out of the room. James didn¡¯t blame them. ¡°Okay. Everyone stay calm. Move back out to the main¡­ hall, thing? Dining area? We¡¯ll keep them here and make sure they¡¯re okay. But get comfortable. If you feel yourself getting feverish, lay down, don¡¯t fall and hit your head. I¡­ any other advice?¡± He asked the EMT. ¡°Anything we need here?¡± ¡°Water. But we don¡¯t have running water.¡± The man said. ¡°Just stay away from each other. We don¡¯t know what this is, but it¡¯s likely we¡¯re all already infected if it¡¯s at all airborne. So yeah, sit down, and stay hydrated if you can.¡± ¡°I.. I¡¯ve got a bottle.¡± An older blonde woman with a face full of piercings offered. ¡°And some Tylenol?¡± She caught a nod from the EMT, and ran to grab it. But she was the only one who offered up anything. ¡°The toilet tanks are gonna have water in them.¡± James muttered. ¡°What are the odds that¡¯s safe to drink?¡± ¡°Zero.¡± The EMT said as James crouched next to him. ¡°James, right? You said earlier, I think, but I wanna make sure.¡± James nodded, and took the spare set of latex gloves the other man offered him from a pocket. ¡°Yeah. And you?¡± ¡°Johns. J club, represent.¡± The word had the cadence of an old in joke James wasn¡¯t privy to. He shrugged at the lack of reaction as he got James to slide him the cafe¡¯s first aid kit, and started wrapping gauze around the man¡¯s arms. The student was the same age as him, really. ¡°Check on them.¡± He pointed to the other two, ignoring a weak moan from the guy he was treating. James did, stopping the woman who tried to come too close to hand him a water bottle. He had her roll it and the painkillers across the tiled floor instead, as he made sure neither of the other two had hit anything vital when they collapsed. The girl had a rapidly growing bruise on her forehead, her friend was okay though. Except for the fact that James could feel their fevers even through his sweaty palms, and the smell of blood was intensifying as lesions opened up along their arms like their skin was magnetically charged and in opposition to itself. ¡°Got any more bandages?¡± He asked Johns, looking up after he¡¯d arranged the two in a somewhat more comfortable position, with a folded coat and a sack of coffee beans under their heads for pillows. ¡°No, and I¡¯m not feeling great already.¡± Johns said. He didn¡¯t make any attempt to hide the anxiety and fear in his voice. ¡°This is bad. This is too fast. If this spreads, everyone probably has it. You said¡­ you said we were somewhere dangerous. Is this what you meant?¡± ¡°Never like this before.¡± James¡¯s voice was soft, but there was no noise to cover it up. No buzz of lights or whir of air conditioning or anything but the occasional frightened word or cry from the other half of the cafe. ¡°Never disease. Fuck, man, I sent people out. I thought¡­ I sent them back.¡± James felt a throb of a headache. ¡°I have never fucked up so bad this fast before.¡± He looked down at where blood was starting to well up from the sores in the arms of the two med school students. ¡°Are there more bandages?¡± He asked. And got no answer. ¡°Johns?¡± James glanced over. The man was sitting against the back door, half concealed by a big grey garbage can. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± He muttered back. ¡°I just need a minute.¡± James stood, and made his way over to join him, sitting on the dirty kitchen floor with his back against several unopened cardboard boxes full of¡­ sugar? Probably sugar. The man across from him looked ashen, even under the green and purple and red lights of the obediently lingering magical macaw. ¡°You don¡¯t look good.¡± James said. ¡°I think the Tylenol is actually helping. Gonna sit, then try to get those two to swallow some too. If it spreads by touch, at least we¡¯re it, though. If it¡¯s airborne¡­¡± Johns swiveled his head to stare at James. ¡°There¡¯s not enough for everyone. Oh, shit. You. You need to¡­¡± ¡°I¡®ll make it.¡± James said, with utter confidence. ¡°If two hundred milligrams of acetaminophen was gonna be the difference, then I¡¯ll make it.¡± He paused. ¡°Gimmie the pills, I¡¯ll get those two to take them somehow.¡± It took an effort of will to move again, and more to get the half-unconscious, half-delirious students to choke down the Tylenol. One each, all they had left. There hadn¡¯t been anything else in the first aid kit, and no one had volunteered anything. He stumbled his way back to the EMT, who was starting to breathe heavily. ¡°You should get your arms wrapped with something before¡­¡± James trailed off. Wrapped with what, exactly? Maybe he could cut one of the stained aprons into strips, when he could stand up again. It had been so, so long since James had been into a dungeon without properly being supplied. First aid, weaponry, things like the exercise potions in his pockets. To be in a situation where he didn¡¯t even have bandages was bizarre to him. He realized he was rambling about it when Johns interrupted. ¡°Man, you got healing potions, and¡­¡± ¡°They¡¯re not healing potions.¡± James thought he said. Then he decided to close his eyes for a little bit, as his headache got worse, and his arms started to itch under the multiple shield bracers he was wearing. He didn¡¯t hear what John said next. James was familiar with being sick. When he was a kid, he got the flu once a year like clockwork, because his dad had told him that getting a flu shot just gave you the flu, so that never happened. The feeling of drifting, of feeling like he was burning inside and chilled outside like some kind of reverse microwaved Hot Pocket, and of having no real control over his thoughts, all of this was stuff James knew. As he¡¯d gotten older, and started living on his own, he¡¯d had to manage it in different ways. Usually, he managed it by spending three days in bed sleeping and waiting to feel properly hungry again. Later on, he¡¯d dealt with it by getting a flu shot, on the grounds that if he was going to have the flu anyway, he may as well do it on his own timeline. Then he¡¯d stopped getting the flu, mostly. But still, he knew the feeling of a fever, of that sort of hot delirium that ran his thoughts around and around in frantic manic circles until his mind collapsed into exhaustion. He¡¯d only been sick once since he¡¯d gotten his Akashic Sewer lesson in biology up to multiple ranks in Endurance. He¡¯d almost felt sorry for the disease. It wasn¡¯t that it affected him less or anything, it was just that at no point did his body slow down or falter. He just pressed through, and being in near-peak condition the whole time had made the whole thing go by far faster. This time was different. The delirium had snuck up on him fast; a matter of minutes, no chance for him to know that he was sick at all. No mild sore throat or clammy hands or anything to precede it. This felt less like being sick and more like being stabbed by a disease. This felt like an attack. He realized at a certain point that he could barely keep a coherent thought going, and that his mind was going in circles. And then he passed out. He was mildly surprised when he woke up again. There were a few things that occurred to James in rapid succession. The first was that he was abruptly clear headed; there was no gradual return to focus and consciousness, there was a cliff that he¡¯d plummeted off of and arrived back at a position where he could think properly. Second, someone was screaming again. Beneath the noise he could also hear someone sobbing, and another voice weakly and frantically praying for salvation. This was a bad sign, and he found himself springing to his feet like he hadn¡¯t just been out cold for who-knew how long. The third thing was that his arms hurt, his shield bracers were slick and his shirt sleeves damp with blood. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that he had a lot more blood to spare than the average person, leaping up probably would have made him lightheaded. The last thing was the insistent piece of information waiting for his review. It sat, inert and obviously foreign, at the side of his thoughts. Not something he could see, but something that was impatiently waiting for him to acknowledge it so that it could tell him something and then be away from his mind. James almost wanted to force himself to ignore it out of spite. But even that thought was enough. [Survivor : Low : +2 Skill Points] Fascinating, and not what he had time to play with right now. He was out of the kitchen as soon as he was up, heading toward the source of the screaming and arming himself by grabbing a backpack on the floor on his way past. On the way out, he deftly hopped over the forms of the pair of med students he¡¯d tried to make comfortable, not having time to check if they were alive. The main area of the cafe was less dark than James had left it. An oozing grey light filtered through the windows and glass doors. Well, the windows that were still intact, anyway. Through the strange misty light, James could see several thick, rough roots that had crawled through at the base of several windows, forcing their way through and shattering the glass into heavy chunks that littered the floor. He barely processed the fact that the roots seemed to be almost entirely at forty five and ninety degree angles as he dashed around the counter and swept his eyes over the room. When James let go of his iron grip on the purple orb effect that made his brain process things faster, he didn¡¯t exactly see more. It was more that all the small connections between information threatened to overwhelm him. He¡¯d been practicing, but it was still very, very hard to learn to live with. But it still let him race through the scene he was presented with. There were three people who weren¡¯t unconscious. All of the unconscious patrons - and Harlan - were either laying under tables or sitting in chairs while leaning forward onto the tables in front of them. One was passed out on a sofa, which was bizarre, since the cafe didn¡¯t have a sofa in it and it looked like it had an upholstery pattern that matched the walls. Half of them, James could see were breathing. That was good. The other half he couldn¡¯t tell. That was less good. There was a woman in a red cardigan that he could practically feel the itch of nestled against a dividing wall under a table, crying. There was the man who had tried to call this a practical joke sprawled on the smooth stone floor next to a chair he¡¯d fallen out of, holding a crucifix in his hand and stumbling through a begging prayer. And there was one of the baristas, screaming as a lumpy, bulbous quadruped leaned over her and let one of its orbs split open to reveal teeth like iron nails. She was already surrounded by a trail of blood, and James could see her struggles getting weaker. He took this in over the course of a second. And then he pivoted in his dash, kicked himself forward, and whipped the shoulder bag he was carrying out at the thing in a low arc that maximized how much force he could put into the swing. It connected with a wet crunch, and the feeling of something heavy in the bag cracking. James gave a silent apology to whoever¡¯s laptop he¡¯d just ruined as he yanked the strap back on the rebound, spun, and whipped the bag around him in an arc. The gross bulbous dog thing had only just started to react to him slamming something into its head, and was making some kind of low whine as the bag came back around and slammed its edge into the thing¡¯s face again. James didn¡¯t bother to follow up with the bag, its momentum was too awkward now. Instead, he let it go, grabbed one of the wooden chairs near him, and brought it down as hard as he could on the staggered monster. One of the smooth orbs along its back popped open as he did so, spraying something vile into the air, but James didn¡¯t relent and just hit it again, the chair cracking as the screws holding the legs in place tore out of position through the wood. The furniture never meant to be used as a weapon gave him one more good hit as he slammed the thing back against the low wall under the broken window it had come through. Then James triggered the kick attack on the old Status Quo greave he was wearing, and slammed his foot through its weakened head. It popped like a ripe cantaloupe, and unleashed a smell like a far too overripe and rotten cantaloupe. The whole form went limp as it died, spasming in one rippling motion before it flopped down. James would take a closer look at it later. Over the smell of blood and whatever foul fluid was leaking from the broken and dead creature and into his shoe, James felt something increment inside himself. Nowhere specific, just the feeling of finishing a thing. [Killer : Low : +1 Skill Point] ¡°Great.¡± He scowled. ¡°Shit.¡± Rapidly, he remembered what this thing had been doing here, and quickly turned to check on the injured woman. ¡°Are you oka- no, that¡¯s stupid. Where did it get you?¡± He asked, looking around for something he could use to stop the bleeding. There were some clean towels under the counter, he remembered, and quickly dashed to grab a couple before running back. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°My leg¡­ my leg.¡± The barista was crying, the words slurred and almost incoherent. James pushed up the side of her skirt, revealing a legging that had been shredded, and a jagged and bleeding chunk missing from her thigh. ¡°It hurts!¡± She gasped out, babbling. ¡°Please, it hurts!¡± ¡°Okay. You¡¯re alright.¡± James saw the red marks on her arms, just like his; wet scabs forming over whatever wounds their rapid illness had inflicted on them. He looked around; everyone who¡¯s arms he could see had those same marks. ¡°Alright.. Hold this here.¡± He pressed the towel to her injury, and got her hands into place. ¡°Keep the pressure on. Fuck, that¡¯s bad¡­¡± He tried not to think about how an injury like that needed to be stitched up by a professional, preferably with anesthetic, and not him, now. He needed help. At the very least, he could see if Johns was awake, and get him to do it with more skill than James had. Briefly, James tried to see if he could make use of the skill points he¡¯d just gotten for spontaneously learning how to suture a wound, but if it was possible, it was a trick he didn¡¯t know yet. James got the attention of the two other people who were awake, having to snap his fingers a few times to get the guy to focus on him. He was clearly in shock in some way, and so James got him seated and let him be, while the sobbing woman, while obviously distressed, was at least capable of giving a nod and tearful sniff when James got her to hold the makeshift bandage on the barista¡¯s leg. Then he turned and ran for the back again. ¡°Johns! Hey, man! Come on, I need your help here.¡± James shook the EMT, who cracked an eye open at him. ¡°Stop yelling.¡± Johns said in a dead tone. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°Come on, you gotta help me, there¡¯s¡­¡± James trailed off as he realized the other man had already woken up before he got here, and had shifted positions. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Johns motioned a hand toward the guy next to him. ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± He said. ¡°They all are.¡± ¡°That¡­¡± James didn¡¯t know what to say. He didn¡¯t want to say anything. There weren¡¯t words for that kind of casual and abrupt encounter with mortality, for how fucking unfair it was that someone had thrown these people in here to die. They weren¡¯t kids exactly, but they were all James¡¯ age. What if that had been him? What if he¡¯d been casually trying to scramble through college with his friends instead of delving, and choosing to get coffee at the wrong time had fucking killed him? ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ there¡¯s no time. Some people made it, but one girl¡¯s bleeding bad. I don¡¯t know how to stitch a wound, come on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m dead too.¡± Johns said, not standing up from where he was sitting, his knees up by his chest, wrists idly resting on the knees of his jeans. ¡°I got skill points. That¡¯s new to me. Seems like the kinda thing my brain would do right before I die. Never was much of a ¡®go into the light¡¯ kinda guy.¡± James took a sharp breath. ¡°Dude, I swear, I will explain everything to you in ten minutes, but could you get the fuck up and come help me? I don¡¯t have time for this right now, I need to go make sure there isn¡¯t anything else crawling in the windows.¡± ¡°¡­not helping.¡± Johns said, still not standing, but at least looking up at James. James stuck a hand down to him. ¡°Come on. There¡¯s people that need help.¡± With a sigh, as he concluded that he wasn¡¯t actually dying, Johns let James haul him up and out to the injured woman. ¡°Wha- what the fuck is that thing?!¡± The man stopped behind James, pointing at the dead monster James had left against the wall. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± James said. But he did realize that next to a corpse wasn¡¯t a great place for surgery, so while Johns started quietly asking the trembling and bleeding woman questions and getting what he needed out of the limited first aid kit, James hefted the thing and rolled it out the broken window. It was a bizarre life form, even for his standards. He had thought it was covered in bulbous growths, but it actually was those growths; squishy balls of muscle and fluid, wrapped in a rough skin that had the texture of a particularly uncomfortable couch James had once owned. There were absolutely bones of some kind in it, but each nodule of the monster seemed to serve a function, and they fused with each other where they met to create a kind of grotesque wad of a living thing. He was careful as he shoved it away to keep his hands away from the nails in its ¡°mouth¡±. They were nails, too. As in, rusted construction nails. Finger length and slightly crooked. James didn¡¯t want to touch those at all, and the closest he got was to make sure his shield bracers had registered them just in case. James couldn¡¯t help but get a good feel for it as he hefted it up and out the cafe to splatter onto the ground outside. It really did feel exactly like bad couch upholstery. While Johns worked, getting the other woman to help him as he painfully sealed the chunk in the barista¡¯s thigh as best he could, James checked on everyone else. The big man with the cane who¡¯d said he¡¯d been an SCA member was gone, eyes glassy and empty as he stared out the window. Another man had seemingly bled out, his arms not just covered in sores but further torn up like he¡¯d been scratching at them. The other barista was just waking up, tears welling in the corners of her eyes but at least alive. Aurelio was alive too, though still unconscious and breathing sporadically. The woman with the worn and studded face who¡¯d given up her water and painkillers was dead, and James felt a deep and painful guilt more than for anyone else, that she could have lived if she¡¯d been a little more selfish. One by one, James checked on people. There were, all told, nine among the living still in the cafe. Ten if he counted Zhu, who had been dragged out of his manifestation when James had passed out. The building was filling up with corpses far too fast for his liking. James considered moving them somewhere, but¡­ where? One of the bathrooms, maybe? The idea fell apart when he realized just how heavy a body was; humans weren¡¯t light objects, and when one of them couldn¡¯t help you move itself, it looked like it would rapidly become too much effort to collect them all somewhere. Especially since they had to leave. They had to. They couldn¡¯t stay here. This place was a death trap. At least if they started trying to make it out, they might find some of the dungeon¡¯s own magic to help keep the survivors alive. It didn¡¯t help make the cafe feel safer when James noticed that the wall near where the roots had punched through the windows was different than it used to be. He was really familiar with that cafe wall, and he knew it didn¡¯t look like this. The low wall had risen up, the window compressed; it was more like the kind of window you¡¯d see looking out of a kitchen in a home built in the 90s, not the big bay window of the cafe. The material was still the same, but something was changing here, subtly. One of the hanging lights overhead had similarly started to warp into a kind of dangling glass chandelier, albeit made out of the same orange plastic the covering used to be. The dungeon was creeping in, and he still didn¡¯t know what it was. At least it was lighter outside, however much time had passed having brought them out of the night. He started to make a mental list of what they could do to prepare. Pack up the food that was left here, break off some chair legs to use as clubs maybe, consider killing Harlan out of anger before they woke up. That last one was mostly a joke, and James was too late anyway. ¡°You move wrong.¡± Harlan said abruptly, looking at James from where they were leaning against a wall next to a dead power socket. They were in the process of pocketing a notepad in a clamshell case, James having barely caught them flipping through it for something specific. James bit back a wince or a scowl or something like it. ¡°Oh good, we¡¯re up to the part of our burgeoning friendship where you say rude things and think it¡¯s fine. Great.¡± Harlan didn¡¯t seem to take any implication from that. ¡°You jerk around too much. Thought you were just spun up for some reason. But it¡¯s not that, is it? You¡¯re messed up.¡± James blinked slowly. ¡°You thought I came to a meeting with a potentially hostile and unknown group, while high on¡­ I actually don¡¯t know drug slang, I¡¯m sorry, what does that one..no, nevermind, I decided I don¡¯t care.¡± He gently clapped his hands together a couple times. ¡°I¡¯ve got a thing that makes me accelerate faster. It¡¯s actually the least convenient superpower, because I¡¯m constantly having to moderate and hold back on how fast I move. I¡¯m more or less used to it by now, and I get a lot of practice in, so I can use it when I need it, but yeah, sometimes my random pacing is gonna look weird.¡± There was a brief pause, while Harlan gave James a truly worried look for the first time. ¡°How many different alterations do you have?¡± They asked. ¡°Like, sum total? Or different sources?¡± James continued without waiting. ¡°Because I can¡¯t answer the first one. And depending on how you count¡­ seven to twelve, I guess? I can¡¯t actually remember if I¡¯m currently resistant to venom. That one changes. Let¡¯s not test it.¡± He appraised Harlan who was now giving him an unrestrained horrified look, their lack of any retained experience with social situations making them comically easy to read when things went off script. ¡°You¡­ you don¡¯t, do you? Have nearly that many. You know about a half dozen dungeons, and you don¡¯t¡­ uh¡­ why?¡± James was truly puzzled as he realized what was going on. ¡°All I know is I¡¯m not supposed to.¡± ¡°Because you told yourself, huh?¡± James was trying too hard to be civil with Harlan. Here, now, they absolutely could not afford to be enemies, or even mildly antagonistic to each other. But boy was Harlan making it a challenge. Harlan nodded. ¡°It was a long time ago. And it¡¯s one of the most important parts of the Wolfpack.¡± They held out an arm, flexing fingers as they stared at the black cloth covering of their sleeve. James knew they were really thinking of another tattoo underneath. ¡°Ink and cordite, and a couple other small things we know are safe. Everything else is off the table. A risk, maybe, or something worse. It doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s the one thing above everything else that we pass down. That has to be trusted.¡± ¡°So, the skill points you just got then¡­¡± ¡°Won¡¯t use them. Usually there¡¯s a way to feed it into the bullets, anyway.¡± Harlan shrugged, running their hands along their sleeves without showing any reaction to if that hurt with the open sores underneath. They rose to their feet. ¡°What now?¡± ¡°Now we get moving.¡± James said, motioning through the shattered window. The roots weren¡¯t growing visibly, and the outside was shrouded in mist, but it was still the best chance any of them had. ¡°Zhu. Are you still¡­¡± He¡¯d forgotten to check on his companion. Zhu folded into place out of James¡¯ arm, a simple line of feathers and eyes. And small holes. ¡°Tired.¡± He said. ¡°That hurt. And¡­ what are skill points?¡± Zhu sounded confused. ¡°A mystery.¡± James grunted. Though, the fact that Zhu got skill points was alarming. Was Zhu sick too? ¡°Zhu, we need a path.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t.¡± The navigator didn¡¯t sound like he couldn¡¯t; he sounded pleading. Like he didn¡¯t want to. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ this place is wrong. It hurts to try to map.¡± James sympathized. It hurt to be here, and he¡¯d only been around for¡­ well, an hour plus however long he¡¯d been out. ¡°We can¡¯t stay.¡± He repeated again, softly, coaxingly. ¡°I have to at least try to get these people out. And, shit, I don¡¯t wanna die here and take you with me either. You don¡¯t have to get us to the exit, just¡­ somewhere less dangerous. Can you do that?¡± There was a stretched out silence from Zhu, punctuated by a stifled scream as Johns attempted field surgery on the wounded barista and the injured girl¡¯s coworker tried to distract her with a stream of empty words. ¡°I can try.¡± Zhu decided. ¡°I will try. But it costs when I do this. Don¡¯t you know?¡± ¡°Sort of.¡± James said. ¡°We should have talked about this more. Do you know what it¡¯ll cost?¡± ¡°Maps resist being made real; resist with strange coincidences and roadblocks. I know¡­ I know what will happen, in the abstract. But knowing anything specific about a route is part of a route. The rocket fuel problem, across an atlas.¡± Zhu¡¯s words were semi-cryptic, but James got it. If it cost him adding problems to a trip to know about the trip, then the more he tried to know how many problems would be there, the more problems would spawn. ¡°Should I begin?¡± James shook his head, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy as the remnants of his abrupt fever jostled loose. ¡°Wait until we¡¯re out the door.¡± He said. And then he got to work organizing what he could. He set two people, the man who had given up on praying by this point and the dude with a goatee dressed as close to ¡®normal¡¯ as James had ever seen, to work gathering every bit of food in this building and packing it into bags. They were both¡­ not doing well. And really, how could anyone be doing well, surrounded by corpses like this? ¡°They¡¯re all dead.¡± The goatee guy kept repeating, his eyes unfocused, swaying on his feet. James didn¡¯t know how to help, except to shove them into action, give them a task, and get them out of here. ¡°Even split, so if we lose one, we don¡¯t go hungry.¡± James ordered. ¡°Try not make anything too heavy. And yes, I am aware God has abandoned us here. I¡¯m working on it.¡± His reply to one of the men¡¯s dazed and muttered comment seemed to snap the man out of his stupor. It was only after going through the thought process of why, for logistical reasons, they couldn¡¯t really boil and store the water from the toilet tanks that the uninjured of the baristas pointed out that the cafe sold bottled water. There just wasn¡¯t any up front at the time, but they had a stock in the back. It wasn¡¯t a lot, but at least they had a little bit to work with, and their improvised doctor was especially grateful. As James got Aurelio to start breaking off chair legs and wrapping them in cloth to use as clubs, he started going around to the dead. Aurelio stared at him after the third time he pulled out one of the deceased¡¯s wallets from their pockets or purse. ¡°Are you¡­ looting everyone?¡± He sounded partway between curious and disgusted. Without looking at him, James just fanned out and held up the stack of plastic cards in his hand. ¡°IDs.¡± He said. ¡°For when we get out of here.¡± He added, and said nothing else about it. These people had lives, and families, and friends. They couldn¡¯t just vanish and be forgotten. James collected their driver¡¯s licenses or whatever was close enough, and anything that looked personal. Wedding rings, lockets, a couple folded photos. And phones, obviously. Those went in a bag. Lightweight personal electronics got heavy when you had twenty of them. Soon enough, there was nothing left to do except wait for Johns to finish trying to repair the hole in the woman he was helping. James moved over to stand by them, looking out the windows into the grey mist that covered everything around; the world was lit now, but visibility was only slightly better than when it had been night. ¡°How is she?¡± ¡°Out cold. Alive.¡± Johns said. ¡°It¡¯s good this place has orange juice because she lost a lot of blood.¡± ¡°But she¡¯ll live, right?¡± The other barista asked. ¡°Sorry, what was your name?¡± James cut in. ¡°I know I should know by now, but¡­¡± ¡°Zari. And why would you know?¡± She seemed almost confused by the question, though still looked worriedly at her friend. James shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m here basically all the time. I know half your coworkers by name.¡± He admitted. ¡°Anyway. More important is, can we move her?¡± He asked Johns. The man shook his head. ¡°She can¡¯t walk, at least.¡± He explained. ¡°And I dunno, man, can you slap together a stretcher?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± James said, thinking about it. ¡°But¡­ isn¡¯t there a cart in the back for deliveries? Like, that green metal thing?¡± Zari nodded at him. ¡°So stick her on that. Steal some of the mystery couch cushions. Hell, get Harlan¡¯s stupid tiger to pull it.¡± ¡°¡­What¡­ tiger?¡± ¡°Harlan! Call out your pokemon! We¡¯ve gotta get going!¡± James called by way of answer. Getting Harlan to agree took the most time. Followed by rigging up a harness, and getting the tiger to agree. While everyone worked on that, James headed out the back door and walked the perimeter of the cafe, gun at hand. It was quiet, and, he really wanted to mentally add, too quiet. The building, he noted, was changing on the outside. The materials were mostly the same, but the stone overhang on the patio was being pulled back to look more like a slanted residential roof, what was left of the stone patio itself was being broken into cobblestones not a flat paved surface. It was obvious the dungeon was doing something, making this place look more like a house than a business, but it was doing it in a way that felt like erosion to James. It was very creepy. Creepier was the fact that, as he took careful steps and watched the surroundings for anything hostile, or the source of the strange roots punching through the building, he thought he saw flickers in the grey mist around him. Motion. But never approaching or threatening or even really something he could pin down. As he turned around to the side of the building, where it would have had a thin gap between the next restaurant over and now had open space, he spotted two things in quick succession. First, and vitally important, was one of the bulb dogs. It was standing near the dumpster, sniffing at it with several of its flesh orbs that appeared to have intake holes. Like it was covered in noses. Well, near what used to be the dumpster. It was still a set of garbage cans, made of the same thick and rusted metal, and heavy plastic cap, as the dumpster was. But it had changed. Was still changing, really. Along with the wall behind it, it was in the process of warping into something else. Though as James got a good look at it, he could literally see the changes slow to a crawl. The dog whipped it¡¯s ¡®head¡¯ toward him, opening its mouth to show a row of rusted nail-teeth. It looked like it was going to make a noise. James preempted it and shot it three times in different orbs, bursting them like rotted fruit and toppling the creature to the ground. Weak scream came from behind him in the cafe at the gunshots, but James would reassure them later. [Killer : Low : +1 Skill Point] The changes stopped crawling, and just stopped. And James started to put together what was going on. A long, long time ago, one dungeon had asked him to save another one. What he now knew to be Route Horizon had told him to remove what it (she?) called ¡®poison¡¯ from Officium Mundi. She¡¯d been talking about people, not property, but the point remained that something from outside couldn¡¯t stay in a dungeon forever without hurting it. Or, perhaps, being a delver; being involved. The cafe wasn¡¯t involved, absolutely not. So it was just sitting here. Waiting. Poisoning the dungeon. Maybe if they defended it long enough, it would kill the place. A fitting end for this shithole that spewed disease at them at the earliest convenience. The other piece of information he had was that dungeons could, and did, change things. Warped their environments to screw with people. But, as he¡¯d seen when the Akashic Sewer had been kicked out of its home turf, they couldn¡¯t do it instantly. And it seemed like things like humans watching them slowed the process down even more. Which he now had another piece of data to start to confirm, judging by how this had been. Why the dungeon needed one of its orb dog things here to enact changes, he didn¡¯t have a clue on. But killing it had certainly stopped the process for now. But that did mean¡­ ¡°More of them are gonna be coming. This place¡­ if it¡¯s a problem for the dungeon, it¡¯s not gonna leave it alone, is it?¡± James asked. ¡°Would you?¡± Zhu curiously replied. ¡°No, I shoot most of my problems.¡± James admitted. ¡°I mean. Okay, that¡¯s not even close to true. But I am getting uncomfortable with how comfortable I am shooting my problems.¡± Zhu flicked orange ethereal feathers up at James¡¯ chin. ¡°Humans are bizarre.¡± He said, as if he wasn¡¯t copying half his mannerisms from James directly. ¡°Also¡­ I think I am ready, if you are.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said, looking out into the mist around them. Those things he could only see as shapes last ¡®night¡¯ were more easily visible now. Telephone poles, or maybe cell towers, something like that. A crowded cluster of them near the cafe. As he rounded to the front and pulled open the door to let himself back in, he could see an off-white sidewalk and a perfectly normal strip of asphalt across from where the building had ¡®landed¡¯. And beyond it, the shapes of houses. Barely visible through the mist, but there. Two story, two car garage, suburban cookie cutter structures. Peaked roofs and dark windows. There was something twisted about them. But the mist ebbed and moved and James lost sight of the distant building. ¡°I hate this place.¡± He muttered, before raising his voice to the survivors. ¡°Alright! Everyone use the bathroom before we go, and this isn¡¯t a joke, because I swear to god you will not like whatever toilets this place has spawned!¡± Chapter 224 ¡°No, you fucking asshole. This isn''t a game and you''re not the hero. You don''t get infinite chances to do the right thing. That''s not how the world works.¡± -Kim Kitsuragi, Disco Elysium- _____ Assembling everyone on the sidewalk was a nerve wracking task. Not just because they¡¯d all just woken up among the dead, but also because it meant leaving the safety of the cafe. That safety was a complete illusion, of course. The exterior walls were whorling and changing every time no one was looking at them, and the interior was undergoing a similar change with the furniture. The kitchen had been left unattended for ten minutes and the wire racks had rearranged themselves into skeletal cabinets, which James ordered everyone to not risk taking anything out of. The building was being reclaimed. It was a blockage in the dungeon¡¯s bloodstream, and the larger body was working diligently to erode it away into something that wasn¡¯t a problem. And once Harlan reclaimed their parrot into tattoo form, leaving the interior a lot darker even with the grey light, it was only going to get worse. Outside didn¡¯t really feel safer, though. Half the people stumbled as they moved, the events that had been forced on them over the past few hours still not fully understood or processed. They¡¯d almost died. A lot of people had died. It was a grim kind of luck that none of them had lost friends; those who had known each other had all died together. James wasn¡¯t sure if that was coincidence or not, but it was a wretched and toxic form of relief. James and Harlan were the only two who moved like they were ready for action. Though James was faking it, and was almost certain Harlan was too. He¡¯d killed people before. Humans and others. But it was never like this. Never so close and impersonal and unfair. This was just a pure expression of grim mortality, shoved in his face to remind him that he was going to die eventually, and he hated it. You couldn¡¯t shoot that kind of problem. He double checked his bullets as he considered the problems he could shoot. He ended up preemptively switching to his last backup magazine, leaving the one that was two thirds full clipped to his belt. There was also that single weird bullet Harlan had tossed him, which he just left in his jacket pocket. James was almost certain he¡¯d be resigningedly using that later, but for now, he didn¡¯t load it, either into his gun or with a memory. Not that he was sure how that worked anyway, which was even more frightening. He¡¯d tried to find the sword he¡¯d left with a barista here a week ago, but he couldn¡¯t remember if he¡¯d picked it up afterward, or maybe just couldn¡¯t find it. He also hoped against reason that he¡¯d remembered to bring anything else of dungeon delving utility, but while Alex had brought a pouch of blue orbs and Alex wasn¡¯t here, and all James had was a few of the cancer cure purples that he gave out to people when he had the opportunity. He had his bracers, and his gun, and that was supposed to be enough. Couldn¡¯t tap into the relationsticks from here, didn¡¯t have a loaded thermos of magic coffee and a backup set of armor, hell he hadn¡¯t even thought to wear a magic shirt that he could break and absorb. So terrifying bullets were the way things were going. That, and manipulating asphalt, which he still had a few hits left of. ¡°Okay.¡± He said once they¡¯d successfully rolled the cart containing the still-unconscious injured girl over the bark chips and out to the sidewalk. ¡°Everyone stay close in. If someone starts to wander off, get my or Harlan¡¯s attention. If you see anything approaching, don¡¯t panic, just call it out and we¡¯ll deal with it.¡± James had armed everyone with clubs as best he could, but he knew that wouldn¡¯t be enough for long. Still, at least this dungeon made creatures that were a lot fleshier than he was used to, and blunt force trauma was at least an option. There was only so much you could do to half the life from Officium Mundi with just a crowbar; metallic chitin was a hell of a material. Around them, James got a good view of the empty street, an almost perfectly smooth paved surface that stretched in both directions for long enough that it faded into the thick mist. The sidewalk on either side was pristine white concrete, like it had been set yesterday and was unsullied by the elements. He¡¯d already gone over the whole ¡°don¡¯t touch anything it¡¯ll probably try to kill you¡± thing. He hoped it would stick. The group fell into silence as around James, Zhu puffed himself up. Feathers and eyes ruffling as the navigator took the equivalent of a deep breath before changing something. No one could feel it, but they could see him deflate slightly with a hiss. ¡°Directions.¡± Zhu said in a pained voice. ¡°Turn right and begin walking. Ignore three way intersections. Always take forks to the left. Do not go into the houses.¡± ¡°How long are we walking for?¡± James asked. ¡°Forever. Never. I don¡¯t know.¡± Zhu choked on the words. ¡°I will guide you when you reach the first decision. I¡­ must rest. I am sorry.¡± The orange light folded in on itself, the sleeve and tail he¡¯d formed around James retreating until only a few spectral feathers drifted away on the breeze, quickly vanishing to nothing. No one said anything. James took a deep breath, and regretted it as the cloying smell of the air filled his lungs. ¡°Bleh. Alright. Well, you heard him. Let¡¯s get moving.¡± He stepped into the road, and started walking, his head on a swivel as he panned left and right, watching for anything. The others followed. Someone made a joke about it feeling weird to walk in the middle of the street, and got hushed. It would have been best if they could move in silence, but they had someone unconscious who needed to be moved, so they¡¯d covered the old metal cart the cafe had in pillows and stuck the barista there to pull. And that cart was squeaky. Not horrible, but every little noise of it seemed louder than everyone¡¯s footsteps combined. Still, it was needed. Johns walked next to the cart, and the tattoo-summoned tiger Harlan had eventually given in to allowing to pull it. The man was keeping a fierce eye on the one patient he had here who hadn¡¯t died yet. There were houses all around them. It was hard to see very far in the mist, but it quickly became clear this street was a lot like a neighborhood. House after house lined its sides, shapes visible as they got closer, with details occasionally peeking out through the haze. Windows and potted plants on the porch and wind chimes hanging over porches. All of it almost aggressively mundane, from what little they could see. Except for the dogs. James spotted the first one, and called everyone to a halt as he pointed it out. It wasn¡¯t like the bulbous fleshy quadruped that he kept calling a ¡®dog¡¯ in his head. Instead, this one grew out of a hedge that lined the front lawn of one of the houses near them. A barrier between sidewalk and property. The dog had seemed to slide through the leaves and branches of the hedge as their party approached. But it didn¡¯t leave the sidewalk as they passed by. It was covered in leaves around its eyes and mouth, tightly pressed and wide green shapes that seemed like they were trying to seal it up. Its skin was like a thick gourd, no fur at all, which made it look a lot like a German Shepard that had been skinned alive and was still growling at them anyway. And from its back and flank, James saw roots, or maybe just branches, that connected it back to the hedge. ¡°Okay. Looks like it¡¯s stuck to that thing. So we can just-¡° An earsplitting crack cut through the air, followed by several more. The dog jerked as splatters of sap and pulp sprayed out of the impact sites from where Harlan shot it. James whipped around to glare at the mercenary, but Harlan didn¡¯t even look back at him as they strolled over to where the dog had collapsed, shot it again in the head, and then started plucking freshly spawned bullets off the street and out of the growing puddle of sap before holstering their pistol and rejoining everyone. ¡°What?¡± Harlan asked, seeing James¡¯ look. A wet howl sounded from maybe two blocks away. James just pointed a finger up into the air next to his head. ¡°That.¡± He said. ¡°You fucking idiot.¡± ¡°I needed to reload.¡± Harlan explained, showing off a handful of sticky nine millimeter rounds. ¡°Look. Net plus five. That¡¯s a good one. I¡¯m gonna shoot all of those.¡± ¡°Why do you keep shooting things?!¡± The barista, Zari, suddenly exploded, the words coming out as a scream. ¡°What is wrong with you?!¡± Harlan didn¡¯t exactly look confused by the question, but James noticed their hand twitching toward their breast pocket, where he knew they kept their little notebook. He intervened, holding a hand between the two of them. ¡°Harlan has¡­ some personal issues.¡± He said. ¡°Also, that thing would have tried to kill any of us that got close, so don¡¯t feel too bad.¡± ¡°You cannot possibly know that.¡± Aurelio folded his arms. ¡°Also, what is that howling?¡± ¡°A, yes I can, B, probably something else coming to kill us.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡± Whatever the howls were, they didn¡¯t close with the terrified group right away, though everyone did move with an eagerness to get away from the area that James tried to keep under control. Rushing would just tire them all out, and they probably had a long way to go. They started walking again, James trying to adjust his pilfered backpack to sit without digging into his shoulders. He missed the good backpacks the Order bought. And wasn¡¯t that just a damning statement about how products got made and distributed. ¡°This is so fucking weird.¡± Johns said out loud as they passed yet another house on either side of the road. ¡°What is this place?¡± ¡°Dungeon.¡± James said, answering him, and everyone else who was looking around at the space around them with growing confusion. ¡°For all the reasons I¡¯ll explain later.¡± The problem here was, if any of these people had just run out of the cafe, they might have assumed they had entered a perfectly normal suburb. It was only like this, going slow, that the bizarre details started to reveal themselves. There were only a few streetlights for one thing, where anywhere on Earth that looked like this would have them evenly and probably one per house. Here, they could pass a half dozen lots without seeing one. But when they did see one, it was with a feeling of seeing a predator without the walls of a zoo enclosure around it. The translucent toothy maws that grew off the lamp poles like Venus flytraps were a bit more visible in the light, and their dancing shadow shapes waving in the breeze as the extinguished lights ¡®slept¡¯ made everyone flinch away and walk on the other side of the road as they passed them. ¡°What the fuck are those?¡± The goatee man - Mauro, James did eventually remember to ask his name - demanded after the second one passed by and he realized the bad vibe wasn¡¯t just a vibe. ¡°Enemies.¡± Harlan answered stoically. ¡°Look like ambush predators. Plant type, too. This whole place feels like a garden.¡± ¡°You need to learn how to pronounce capital letters.¡± James muttered, trying to decipher if Harlan meant ¡®plant¡¯, ¡®garden¡¯, or ¡®type¡¯ as dungeon-specific nouns. They didn¡¯t answer him though, which was probably for the best right now. ¡°But yeah, stay away from those. They seem to be asleep now, since it¡¯s light out, but they will try to eat you.¡± Two blocks later, the streetlights had stopped being isolated. They dotted the sidewalk in pairs opposite each other, their translucent fronds swaying in the quiet breeze. Everyone moved closer to the middle of the street, and hoped the squeaking wheels of the cart didn¡¯t wake them up. James¡¯ heart was beating pretty fast as they moved. No amount of experience in other dungeons ever really prepared him to throw himself in front of new hostile life and see if it murdered him. But he was doing it anyway. He had to, really, if anyone was going to get a chance. Around them, the grey mist swirled. The front facades of houses occasionally became visible when the conditions were just right. There were no breaks between the buildings, no walking paths or parks or anything at all except house after house. Sometimes dark wood fences would cut their yards off from each other, sometimes they would be wider or have an uneven brick courtyard instead of a lawn, but the houses kept going. Overhead, the sky swirled exactly the same as the mist. There were no clouds or open air to be seen, just more of that endless bland fog. ¡°How big is this place?¡± Zari¡¯s quiet question got a few other people asking the same thing. James kept his eyes forward as he answered in a low voice. ¡°Big.¡± He said. ¡°Don¡¯t think of it like a building. These places fit way too much space into basically nowhere.¡± ¡°Is that¡­ is that a Dr. Who quote?¡± She asked him, confused. Before James could answer, Aurelio gave a short laugh. ¡°No. I¡¯d know if it was.¡± James cracked a smile, choosing to chalk up the unpleasant tone to the stress, which he planned to keep doing for the whole expedition out. ¡°Alright, well, good to have an expert. But no, dungeons tend to be huge. Especially older ones. I¡¯ve never seen this place before, but it feels¡­ it feels unpleasantly well constructed.¡± He sighed. ¡°I hope you¡¯re all ready for some walking.¡± He said. The middle aged woman in the cardigan, who shared her name as Milly, spoke up. ¡°Can I get a turn on the cart? I wore heels.¡± ¡°No.¡± Harlan¡¯s voice was unamused, because Harlan didn¡¯t seem to experience amusement. ¡°Probably not, this kid¡¯s not gonna be able to walk for a while.¡± Johns said more compassionately. ¡°Shoulda gotten some shoes off one of the¡­¡± James didn¡¯t finish the sentence. Milly¡¯s voice turned angry. ¡°I am not wearing a dead person¡¯s shoes!¡± She snapped. Not loudly, at least, but certainly enough to express her anger. ¡°Well, get used to walking.¡± James said, resignedly, slightly distracted by something on the edge of his hearing. ¡°The ground doesn¡¯t feel sharp or anything, so you might get away without shoes for a while, but¡­ look, this situation sucks. I don¡¯t want you to die because of footwear, okay? But I don¡¯t have a good answer, and I need everyone to be quiet because I¡¯m trying to hear a thing.¡± He strained his ears, holding up a hand to wave them all to a stop. They were in the road between a pair of sloped driveways, the garages of the houses on either side each cracked open just enough to let someone think they could wedge themselves under the gap. And James, with his slightly improved hearing range, was desperately trying to figure out what his brain thought it was hearing on the edge of the quiet wind. ¡°Hey, why are-¡° ¡°Ssh!¡± He ignored the people around him, looking upward and holding his breath. There was a noise he was familiar with, right there. And as it got slightly closer, he identified it suddenly. ¡°Car engine.¡± He said out loud. ¡°What?¡± Harlan¡¯s head snapped around in precise looks up and down the street. ¡°No cars. You sure?¡± They paused. ¡°No, I hear it too.¡± ¡°It¡¯s far away. Moving¡­ parallel to us, I think.¡± James let out a breath. ¡°We¡¯re good.¡± ¡°Well. Let¡¯s not go crazy.¡± Harlan said, still watching down the street. ¡°Also there¡¯s darkness chasing us. That seems bad.¡± It was amazing to James how someone could say a thing that caused every one of the other survivors to flinch, stare, and start asking if they should run or something, with such a completely placid tone. ¡°That looks bad.¡± James agreed. About three or four hundred feet behind them, the mist had swirled in the breeze, leaving a gap along one side of the road that no light occupied. Just a dark hole in the world. ¡°Wait, hang on. Is¡­ is the mist the light source? What the fuck?¡± He looked around, holding up a hand like he could somehow determine that. ¡°Man I wish I glowed in the dark more than I do.¡± ¡°Why¡­¡± Johns gave him a suspicious look, bushy eyebrows raised up to his creased forehead. ¡°Magic.¡± James said. ¡°Okay. Everyone keep moving. We¡¯ve got a ways to go. Also, Mauro, what were you saying about something while I was trying to hear a car?¡± The man twitched as James addressed him, which was a strange look on the stocky figure who was taller than James. ¡°Uh, oh, the trees.¡± He answered, pointing over Harlan¡¯s tiger and at the dirt or sod patches set into the outer edge of the sidewalk at odd intervals. ¡°There¡¯s no trees. Like neighborhoods always have.¡± ¡°No mailboxes either, so far.¡± Aurelio added, jumping in like he needed people to know he¡¯d noticed something. James frowned. ¡°Weird. Actually no trees anywhere, even the empty lot. Just telephone poles. Alright. Well. Watch for that, I guess. Not sure what¡¯ll go wrong when it comes up.¡± He didn¡¯t mean to sound so upset, but it happened anyway. Half the people he¡¯d promised to save were already gone, and he wasn¡¯t feeling great about their odds anyway. Even his own, no matter what Harlan said. Time passed, along with distance. Miles, at least. At a certain point, everyone had individually demanded to know how large this place was, and James still didn¡¯t have a real answer. The scenery never changed, except whether there were more or less street lamps, and how many cars could fit in the nearby garages. The biggest events were seeing a literal white picket fence, or the occasional gourd dog that growled at them somehow as they skirted the hedges. At a certain point in a dungeon, the boredom set in. The worst kind of boredom James knew of. He had something he had to do, he had people he needed to save, and there was the potential to be killed in a half dozen ways that he wouldn¡¯t see coming. And yet, he was just walking. In a mostly straight line. They came to a fork. James remembered Zhu¡¯s directions, went the correct way, then double checked with everyone that left was correct, just to be sure. There was a house at the tip where the road split into two, and the way it was pressed up against the property line gave them all a much better view of how worryingly mundane it was. Just¡­ a regular house. White siding and a few bits of red brick here and there. Windows with curtains pulled, a porch with a swinging bench and some potted plants. If you looked closer, you could see that there were clusters of fungal blooms along the siding, that the windows seemed to be glistening as they shifted to focus on the passing humans, and that there were actually quite a lot of plants growing out of the wood and brick of the house. The garden was a good cover for it, but the garden was bare, and the foundation of the building was where all the puffy blooming red flowers were really coming from. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. They passed by quickly. By the time James¡¯ legs started to feel an ache coming on, he was absolutely certain most of the people were starting to get exhausted. A few of them, like Johns and Harlan, had the kind of physical conditioning that could keep a hike going for a while. But they¡¯d been walking for miles, at least five, maybe more. And someone in heels, or who self-admitted they spent most of their time lounging around being woefully frail, or who just hadn¡¯t slept much before coming to work, well, these weren¡¯t the people who were prepared for a long walk like this. Much less a delve. He called a break, and let everyone get something to drink, and rest for a bit. It was strange just sitting down in the middle of the street, but no one wanted to get near the sidewalks after what they¡¯d seen. Meanwhile, he moved to check on Johns and the injured girl, her friend still hovering nearby. ¡°How¡¯s she doing?¡± He asked. ¡°Well, she didn¡¯t bleed out. But she¡¯s not waking up.¡± Johns didn¡¯t sound hopeful. ¡°She¡¯s been out this whole time. Cat¡¯s doing a good job keeping her steady though.¡± The tiger preened at the medic¡¯s praise as Johns scratched its neck. He¡¯d gotten pretty comfortable with the big cat once it became clear the tiger was actually more like a housecat than an apex predator. ¡°I dunno, man. How much longer are we here? She needs a bed, an IV, and probably a million antibiotics.¡± ¡°¡­ a while.¡± James said quietly. ¡°Days, maybe more. Zhu can¡¯t even see the exit.¡± ¡°Is she going to¡­¡± Zari asked, the girl kneeling next to the cart and pushing the other girl¡¯s hair out of her face. ¡°I mean¡­ you know.¡± ¡°I dunno.¡± Johns said. ¡°I dunno anything about this place. Hey, what the fuck am I supposed to do with skill points, anyway?¡± ¡°If you find out, tell me. I¡¯m collecting the fucking things.¡± James grumbled. ¡°And, Zari, I¡­ your¡­ hell, I wanna just say something reassuring, but we can¡¯t do anything except try to get her somewhere safe, right?¡± He winced as he saw the younger woman fighting back tears. ¡°It might not be okay. But she¡¯s held on this long. She¡¯s tough, right?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Zari sniffed. ¡°Yeah, she-¡° Whatever she was going to say as the injured woman on the cart next to them jolted upright, rolled off the cushions to hit the asphalt on her hands and knees, and then immediately started vomiting. The sound of someone throwing up was always enough to make James gag, and this was no exception; rough retching that was abruptly cut off by a wet splattering as the barista splattered a mess of stomach acid and blood onto the pavement. In a clear moment of panic, she got her bearings just long enough to look up at everyone watching her and tried to say something before her chest heaved and she threw up a second time. James desperately tried to not think about the fact that the growing puddle of vomit on the street smelled like freshly baked bread. The aroma slowly turning to that of sour acid as it infected his nose. Ignoring the nightmare scenario of everything that was going on, Zari and Johns rushed to help if they could, the girl pulling her friend¡¯s hair back again, and Johns pushing everyone back to give her space. After the third explosion of vomit that was now more blood than anything else, the girl¡¯s face screwed up in angry concentration, as she shoved a hand out to push Zari back, pitched herself up to rest on her heels, and then bit down on her tongue so hard she started to bleed. Her chest jerked like her body was trying to force her to vomit again, but she just kept her eyes pressed closed, refusing the breathe, to open her mouth, to react at all. Thirty seconds that felt like a solid hour later, she let out a gasping breath. ¡°Oh hey,¡± the young woman said in a woozy tone, ¡°I leveled from that. Cool.¡± She looked over at Johns, swaying back and forth as her head started to pound. ¡°Can I have some more juice?¡± As someone cracked open the plastic seal on a kid sized bottle of orange juice for her, Johns frantically checked her pulse and pupils. ¡°She looks¡­ fine.¡± He conceded eventually. He¡¯d had to pause a couple times as the group wanted to move away from where the girl had been sick. They¡¯d gotten about a block before he¡¯d demanded they stop, the cart¡¯s wheels giving one last squeak before the EMT got a chance to do an actual checkup of his patient. ¡°If we live through this, we¡¯ll be world famous for finding illnesses that vanish after they¡¯re done with you.¡± He added. James tensed up without meaning to, the urge to scratch at his arms out of stress prevented only by the bracers he was wearing. ¡°Ahhhhh¡­¡± he let out a low whine. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°Right.¡± Johns sighed. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. Better doctors over there than here, right?¡± ¡°What¡¯re you talking about?¡± The girl on the cart asked, toying with the empty plastic bottle she now had. ¡°I teleported people who were infected out of the dungeon, and into mundane Earth, before I knew about the whole murder plague.¡± James said. ¡°Oh.¡± The girl looked down. ¡°Uh¡­ but won¡¯t people just sleep for a few hours then be fine? They¡¯ll have skill points, too, which, what do those do? And why do I know about them at all?¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t know.¡± James snapped, before taking a rapid step back, trying to unclench every muscle in his arms that had tightened up. Everyone was staring at him, which wasn¡¯t helping his abrupt anxiety attack at all. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about this place! I don¡¯t even know why we got sent here, except that it seems really lethal and someone wanted to kill Harlan! And Harlan¡¯s too fucking insane to keep their memories intact for more than five minutes, so I can¡¯t even ask them! And you woke up, got attacked by a dog - sorry for not being faster there - and then passed out when Johns was stitching you back together. Half of everyone else just didn¡¯t wake up! So yes, I¡¯m a little upset about maybe unleashing a plague!¡± There was a stifling, awkward quiet, as everyone except Harlan edged away from him slightly. Then Milly, in a voice that reminded James of his mom in the worst way possible, said, ¡°You need to calm down.¡± Historically, this was the stupidest thing available to say to someone who needed to calm down. It basically never worked, and just made anyone who it got said to feel angry because they were being talked down to. It was such a dumb idea that the very existence of the words right now caused James to bark out an unexpected laugh. After all, he did need to calm down. But really, if there was anything he wasn¡¯t expecting, it was for someone to actually think saying that out loud was smart. ¡°Sure.¡± He said in a forced bland voice. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡± ¡°Can I keep riding the cart?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Several people said at once. ¡°Also, sorry, what¡¯s your name?¡± James asked the injured barista. ¡°Sienna.¡± She said in reply. ¡°I already know who you are.¡± ¡°I¡¯m never gonna get used to hearing that.¡± James said, taking point and letting Harlan bring up the rear as they started moving again, wheels squeaking, footsteps echoing in the mist, and everyone else complaining that their feet and legs hurt. The next few miles of street were worse than the last few. Sienna was awake and alive at least, even if she couldn¡¯t walk. But there wasn¡¯t a lot of talking. Oh, people had questions, or whispered statements of anxiety or concern. But they weren¡¯t having a conversation. The whole place was too still, too tense, for that. It felt like there was something lurking just past the thickest parts of the mist, waiting for them. House after house passed them by. Still, there were no trees, or cars. The road curved, though, arcing left and right as it wove through the space. It didn¡¯t mean anything; either the mist kept them from seeing too far ahead anyway, or if it weren¡¯t here, it would be dark. But still, it at least offered something like variety. The next time they came to a fork, James tried to remember which ways the road had curved, and which way they¡¯d be going once they took this new split. He couldn¡¯t be sure, but he had a gnawing worry that they were going in circles, despite following Zhu¡¯s directions. The fork also had something different at the tip of the sidewalk where it met their current path. ¡°Don¡¯t go near that.¡± James said openly, pointing at the fire hydrant. ¡°I could shoot it.¡± Harlan offered, almost eagerly. ¡°Don¡¯t go near that or shoot that.¡± James restated. Behind him, he heard Aurelio¡¯s voice ask, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with it? It¡¯s just a fire hydrant.¡± Followed by Zari¡¯s indignant answer of, ¡°Have you been paying attention to this place? The fog and the no cell service aren¡¯t the problem here.¡± Then a pause, followed by, ¡°We should throw something at it.¡± James glanced over his shoulder and caught Harlan¡¯s eye. ¡°If you¡¯re not gonna hire her when we get out of here, I am.¡± He said. ¡°I have a¡­!¡± Zari trailed off sheepishly. ¡°You have a job?¡± James asked with a friendly grin. ¡°At a cafe, maybe?¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± They kept walking. And walking. And walking. Breaks were getting more frequent, though. No one here really had the endurance to hike for hours on end in a situation like this. Milly was wobbling on the heels she refused to lose, and despite looking like a tough guy, Mauro was gasping for breath. And it was with a grimace to use up the resource early that James pulled the sealed flask of exercise potion out of his pocket and called for a quick break. He and Harlan were good, and Johns said he was alright too, plus Sienna still had a ride. But that still meant a six way split for¡­ well, he didn¡¯t know how many doses it was supposed to be. But they had to ration it. ¡°Small sips only.¡± He told everyone, passing it around. ¡°Try not to drool on my flask.¡± The recovery was instant, and the faces of everyone lightened as they started moving again, all of them feeling a little more ready to go than when they started, much less when they had driven themselves up to their limit. It didn¡¯t change the fact that they were still walking through row after row of houses. Though the smell in the air did change briefly to barkdust and running water, even if no one could figure out where it was coming from. The change was gone a block later. They heard another engine after another dozen houses, this one closer, but still out of sight, and still driving away from them. Shortly after, there was a scare when someone tripped as they were passing a hedge and the gourd dog had strained against the roots that tethered it in place to snap at them, but no one got hurt except for some scraped hands. James¡¯ arms were starting to really ache from all the sores on them. They¡¯d mostly scabbed over, but it still hurt, and he wasn¡¯t taking the shield bracers off if he could help it. He considered dividing them up, and he might still do that if they had to split up, but right now, he figured if anything tried to kill them, he¡¯d be between it and the party anyway, so he kept what defenses he had. He did take the time to mentally switch one bracer to ¡®bite¡¯ and one to ¡®nails (material)¡¯. He wasn¡¯t sure if he had to be that specific, but he didn¡¯t want to find out once after the fact, and he didn¡¯t actually need to stop fingernails anyway. He also considered giving people skulljacks. But there wasn¡¯t much he could do with that here. He only had one spare length of ethernet cable, if he dismantled his braid, and it would be short. Mem files had to actually be stored somewhere, unless you were making one on the fly, and he just¡­ wasn¡¯t. So giving everyone martial arts skills was out too. Maybe he could copy some of Harlan¡¯s memories to help them with their idiotic bullet loop, but Harlan seemed like they¡¯d be resistant to any new body mods. Also the thought of Harlan with a skulljack was more worrying to James than Harlan with self-inflicted amnesia. So he just kept walking, took small sips of water, and kept alert. Because he¡¯d need to be, as the most competent guard here. He did abruptly stop when a thought wormed into his head, though. [Survivor : Low : +1 Skill Point] ¡°Anyone else get that?¡± James asked the group. ¡°Get what?¡± Johns sounded concerned. Which made James concerned. So far, they¡¯d all gotten skill points from this place for either killing things, or shrugging off various infections. And if James had just gotten a skill point for the latter, but no one else had, it meant either he¡¯d been personally infected with something and not noticed, or they were all infected with something, and he¡¯d beaten it, but no one else had. But the last few hours - more like eight hours, now, they¡¯d been walking steadily for a long time - had been so hectic that it was hard to isolate a single thing that could have infected James. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like they had any medicine that would help anyway. Or anything to do except keep moving. ¡°Who do you think lives in these?¡± Mauro asked at one point, gesturing to the houses around them. He wasn¡¯t any less terrified of the whole situation, but there was only so long the human brain could keep up a single good panic. At a certain point, boredom and curiosity took over again. ¡°We keep going past them, and none of them even have lights on.¡± ¡°No one friendly.¡± Harlan answered bluntly. ¡°It¡¯s possible there¡¯re things living in them.¡± James said, noticing the group shifting their attention to him. They¡¯d started to learn to ignore Harlan¡¯s attempts to participate. ¡°Not human, but maybe something we could talk to. But¡­ this doesn¡¯t seem like the time to check. And Zhu was very clear to not go into the houses.¡± ¡°What is Zhu anyway?¡± Sienna asked from the cart she was still being pulled forward on by the unwavering dedication of the tattoo tiger. ¡°I only saw him a little, before¡­¡± She scratched at her sleeves, trying not to claw directly at the sores on her arms. ¡°Don¡¯t scratch that.¡± Johns said instantly. James bit off the same words, and instead answered the first question. ¡°Zhu¡¯s basically a living part of a map. Or maybe the map. It¡¯s unclear. He lives in my head, and we¡¯re friends.¡± The last person who James didn¡¯t know the name of spoke up. ¡°That¡¯s fucking weird.¡± He said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that.¡± Aurelio added his own opinion in the form of ¡°That¡¯s fucking weird. I¡¯d do that.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that weird.¡± James said, exhaustedly, not even feeling like being amused by this. ¡°Also thanks for your scathing opinion on how you¡¯d live my life, mister¡­?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you if we get out of here.¡± ¡°Well, in my head, I¡¯ve been labeling you as R.E.M., so get ready for me to say that out loud if I need to get your attention.¡± One of the girls started to ask why, and Johns held up a hand to stop them, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°No, no. That¡¯s mean man. Also how are you making music jokes here?¡± ¡°It¡¯s joke, or scream. I usually choose joke.¡± James said. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s cause he¡¯s losing his religion, and I¡¯m very funny.¡± He told Zari. ¡°Now, this break has gone on long enough, let¡¯s keep moving.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been moving.¡± ¡°We slow down when we¡¯re talking.¡± James said, doing a quick count of everyone. And then jolting in wide eyed alarm as he noticed someone missing. ¡°Where¡¯s Mauro?¡± He demanded, rapidly scanning the space around them. He barely spotted the big man ahead of them, on the left side of the street, maybe two hundred feet away. James made his best attempt to command Harlan to stay, and sprinted after him, unsure how he¡¯d gotten so far ahead without anyone noticing. ¡°What are you doing?¡± James hissed as he caught up. Mauro turned to him with a look of irritated confusion, framed by his goatee. ¡°What you told us to, I¡¯m watching for anything weird.¡± He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Like the one house with a light on.¡± The he blinked, and looked over James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Where is everyone?¡± The instant fear in his voice was enough to inflict the feeling on James, too. ¡°Get away from the house.¡± James said, reaching out to tug on the man¡¯s arm. Mauro nodded, and moved to put James between him and the spot he¡¯d been looking. The house looked exactly like every other one here. Not identical, but close enough, with just minor variations in the color, the style of porch, the garden, or where the roof peaked. But it did have a light on in one of the downstairs windows. If this were a normal house on a normal street, James would say it was the living room. As it was, he didn¡¯t know what it was supposed to be, but it had an ominous feeling to it. The light was warm and welcoming, and every delver instinct he¡¯d developed over the last few years told him to not trust it. He started backing away, pushing Mauro back toward the group. Then, there was a swirl in the mist as the breeze picked up, and a creeping darkness slipped between him and the house, up the steps and over the wooden front porch. It was still light around him, though that light was thin and grey, but the front of the house for a moment was dark. Except that window. It was so innocuous. Just a tall rectangular pane of glass. Curtains drawn, a light behind them making it stand out. Nothing weird about it at all, if you discounted the little warpings like the way the trim bubbled in some places. And then, just before James turned away to rejoin the group, he saw the face. It was like a static sketch of a face. Black and white lines, all contrast and scratchy impressions. Oversized white eyes with black specks shot through them, and a mouth that hung open in a ghoulish silent scream. It was watching him; peeking out from around the side of the curtains, one hand made of similar static buzzing as it gripped the edge of the window from the inside. James made eye contact with it, his hand going for his gun, just in case it decided to leap out and kill him. He narrowed his eyes, keeping the thing in his sights as he waited for it to move, or blink, or something. But he was pretty sure that- His vision of the face in the window vanished as a flare of golden light erupted around him. The thin lines of the shield bracer were more visible than normal in the darkness he found himself in, but below him, the individual lines of the cage the shield formed were more like solid panels of molten gold. James jerked back, stumbling over his own feet and slamming shoulder-first into the grass he was standing on, and didn¡¯t have time to think about. Then the space around him lit up again, all around his body as he tried to claw himself to his feet while his heart beat a hundred times a second and he couldn¡¯t grab anything. Shoving himself forward, his shoes not finding much traction on whatever he was standing on, James flung himself into the dimly lit mist and onto the sidewalk, sprawling hard before he shuffled forward off the curb and into a hunched stance, other human hands helping him up as he tried to figure out what had just happened. Behind him, the lawn he¡¯d been standing on, still partly visible, rippled and smoothed itself out. The blades of grass James could see straightening themselves out to return to a perfectly manicured surface, even as the sod pulled itself back down around the edges and retracted the foot long fangs it had tried to snag his legs with. Multiple circular rows of teeth, like layered maws, retracted into the grass, and left it looking like the perfect suburban garden again. James checked his shield bracer. One use left on the one he¡¯d set to ¡®bite¡¯ in preparation for the dogs. ¡°What the fuck.¡± The words didn¡¯t come out right, spilling out of his mouth like his tongue was made of lead. He started laughing uncontrollably as the adrenaline faded. ¡°What the fuck?!¡± That came out more reasonably. Someone said something to him, asking if he was okay. James just laughed harder, his vision spotty and breath coming in gasps. He wanted to sit down and stare at something soothing for an hour. But he knew he couldn¡¯t. James forced his emotions into the proper shape. A lifetime of experience fighting through depression to get shit done, helped along by a few of the red orbs from the Office, and it took him only a couple minutes to get his breath back, and apply his best defense against near-death panic. Snark. ¡°Okay. Okay.¡± He still found himself tripping over words. ¡°Add ¡®do not look at windows¡¯ to the list of things to not touch, shoot, or interact with. Good. Good. We¡¯re learning. We got this.¡± ¡°Give me one of the shields.¡± Harlan told him as James explained what had happened, urging the group onward even as his own legs were shaking so bad that he found himself moving like a puppet on strings rather than a normal walking human. James looked at them dumbly. ¡°What? No, you don¡¯t use stuff, remember?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not soulmarked or some shit. Give me one.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll give it back when we¡¯re done, right?¡± James narrowed his eyes at them. But he was already unclipping the bracer from his upper arm. Harlan nodded, and James started to pass the bracer over, before he stopped. ¡°Wait, hang the fuck on. Are you going to feed the memory of saying this to a bullet and then pretend you aren¡¯t accountable for giving me my magic item back?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Harlan said, utterly without shame. ¡°¡­I¡¯m not letting you steal my stuff. But also take it.¡± James gave a quick explanation of how it worked. Everyone else wanted a bracer too. The fact that he only had a finite number of them didn¡¯t seem to matter to the scared civilians who all had compelling reasons why James should give them one of the defensive objects. The argument threatened to escalate, and their walking pace slowed, voices being raised, until James snapped. ¡°I¡¯m trying to keep you fuckers alive!¡± He yelled, his voice cutting through the lightly breezy air all too well. ¡°It¡¯s my job to stand between you and the things that want to kill you! I can¡¯t do that without this! A bracer could keep one of you alive slightly longer, and then run out, and then you¡¯ll die anyway. But I can maybe keep all of you alive the whole time! Okay?!¡± They shut up, some of them glaring, some of them giving grudging nods. To the side, Johns coughed lightly. ¡°I already knew that, which is why I didn¡¯t say anything.¡± The EMT offered. ¡°Great, cool, awesome. Can we please keep going?¡± James said in a pained tone. ¡°How much longer?¡± Milly asked. She¡¯d had to hand off the bag of food and collected electronics she was carrying, the weight having been too much for her. Out of everyone here, including the self-described layabout poet, she had the least physical stamina. Mauro had taken it off her, and hadn¡¯t said anything about it. ¡°I don¡¯t know if my legs can keep up.¡± She didn¡¯t sound like she was whining anymore. Just stating the fact that she couldn¡¯t keep doing this. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± James stopped, as something came into view ahead of them. Something they hadn¡¯t seen before. ¡°Well. Maybe not too much longer.¡± He said, pointing ahead of them. To where the road split, a cross street cutting perpendicular to where they were walking. Through the thickening mist, he could just make out a couple metal signposts on the corners. ¡°Is this what we¡¯re looking for?¡± Sienna asked. ¡°It¡¯s an intersection?¡± Her friend answered slowly. ¡°Wait, were we supposed to find an intersection? It¡¯s been hours.¡± ¡°We were. It has.¡± James nodded. ¡°And this is it. So let¡¯s get there, settle in, take a break, and I¡¯ll wake up Zhu.¡± And hopefully, if they were very lucky, this would be their first step out of here. Chapter 225 ¡°Under the present brutal and primitive conditions on this planet, every person that you meet should be regarded as one of the walking wounded. We have never seen a man or woman not slightly deranged by either anxiety or grief. We have never seen a totally sane human being.¡± -Robert Anton Wilson- _____ ¡°He¡¯ll wake up when he wakes up.¡± James said, crouched down in the middle of the road. He didn¡¯t sit. His legs felt like they were on fire; he¡¯d stretched, because he¡¯d just gotten into the good habit of it, but his increasingly active lifestyle and all his magical exercise boosts didn¡¯t actually mean he was inexhaustible. Especially when he¡¯d given the exercise potion to everyone else and not taken any himself. Three points in Endurance actually did get him a lot closer to inexhaustible, but it didn¡¯t mean his legs weren¡¯t screaming at him, or his feet weren¡¯t feeling like he¡¯d just spent eight hours hammering them into paste. Which left him not sitting as he answered the question, because he was pretty sure if he sat down, he¡¯d just flop onto the pavement and lay there while something ate him, too tired to get back up. The intersection was where a bend in the street they¡¯d been walking was crossed by another stretch of pavement. To one side, James could make out through the thick luminescent mist a sloped cul de sac. To the other, just more road. More houses. More nothing. They still hadn¡¯t gone into a house, or even past one. Slipping through to a backyard or to see if there was anything on the other side of the aggressive repeated architecture just seemed too dangerous. James hadn¡¯t really noticed it, but the survivors - Harlan still didn¡¯t count - were all¡­ not doing well. Emotionally. He had a little emotional armor mostly from his experience, and from knowing what he needed to do. These people were, as soon as they stopped for a break, falling apart. It was likely none of them noticed, but they kept close to each other as they waited just before the intersection. Jittery motions and nervous looks fired off at any noise at all came from all of them, and if it weren¡¯t for how tired everyone was, he was sure they¡¯d be snapping at small slights. They were afraid, and tense, and there wasn¡¯t much he could do about it right now, because he was exhausted too. And his arms hurt. The scabs from the first disease itched like someone was randomly jabbing him with a fork, and it didn¡¯t help that he absolutely didn¡¯t feel safe taking off the shield bracers. Someone said something, and James opened his eyes. He¡¯d almost dozed off there, crouching here. Harlan was talking to him. ¡°What?¡± He asked blankly, looking up at the unamused face of the arcanely ambiguous mercenary. ¡°Sorry, I wasn¡¯t listening.¡± ¡°You trying to joke all the time makes you sound like a real asshole here.¡± Harlan told him. James closed his eyes again. ¡°That¡¯s the third time you¡¯ve said that to me.¡± He said, trying to decide if this whole transient memory thing Harlan had going on was sad, or aggravating. ¡°Actually. Is this why you don¡¯t have a good sense of humor? You probably just have one joke that you know works on your¡­ squad mates I guess? And then you tell that joke over and over, and they laugh every time, and it feels like a comforting touchstone even though it¡¯s always new to all of you.¡± James felt himself starting to ramble, but his brain wasn¡¯t doing a great job keeping his thoughts contained. ¡°I bet movie night for you is fun. You get to watch things for the first time multiple times. Mmh, but then, you don¡¯t get to do critical analysis of movies that well, do you? Okay, yeah, that probably sucks. Hey, how do the bullets work, anyway? Like, can you feed it any memory? Is it just you? We¡¯ve got some time, I wanna ask while I can.¡± He waved a hand and cut off Aurelio¡¯s attempted joke about bullets working like bullets. ¡°I mean the magic bullets Harlan has, don¡¯t interrupt their explanation.¡± With a face like a very confused stormcloud, Harlan looked down at James. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to give an explanation.¡± They said. ¡°I was asking-¡° ¡°You should.¡± James cut in. ¡°This is actually important, and could keep us alive.¡± Harlan blinked, and stopped talking entirely, making short motions to shift their head around to look at everyone in the small group, before looking back to James with a blank expression. ¡°So?¡± ¡°So what?¡± Harlan said. ¡°So¡­ could you explain the bullets?¡± James prompted. ¡°Since we have some time while we wait for Zhu to wake up? It¡¯s not like I can rush him.¡± There was something about the way Harlan just let conversations die that was familiar to him, but he couldn¡¯t quite place it. Harlan shrugged. ¡°Since you answered my question about the map.¡± James didn¡¯t remember doing that, but okay. ¡°Anyone can use them. Just focus on what you¡¯re giving up, or it takes the most recent relevant memory. Routines are bad; it¡¯ll use them, but take the whole thing, and it doesn¡¯t do anything special. We¡¯ve got a few 7.62 mags that amplify specific events or emotions across a whole load, but generally you¡¯re looking at one thought per bullet.¡± Harlan flicked the magazine out of the pistol James hadn¡¯t seen enter their hand, and started running a thumb down the loaded bullets. ¡°You can get a feel for it, eventually. Irritation, annoyance, humor, worry, a lot of these would be good for a lockdown spread, but it¡¯s generally better to have anything over nothing no matter what. Oh, also, if you have one loaded, and you kill something, it makes more. Don¡¯t ask why.¡± ¡°Yeah, I gave up on asking why a long time ago.¡± James sighed. ¡°Excuse me.¡± Milly said, the leaning in on their conversation and pulling her red cardigan tighter as she did so. ¡°If magic is real¡­ why did you use it to make bullets?¡± James gave a depressed laugh. ¡°Oh. Oh, no.¡± He shook his head. ¡°We didn¡¯t make anythi- well, Harlan didn¡¯t make anything. I¡¯ve made some magic, sort of. We¡¯re just scavengers though, in the grand scheme of things. Places like this¡± he waved his arm in an arc through the thin mist around them, ¡°make magic. We just find it, and try to figure out how to use it to fix things. Or kill people I guess, Harlan.¡± ¡°Stop judging me. You¡¯ve done worse.¡± Harlan posited. ¡°I absolutely have not.¡± James snorted. Milly cleared her throat with matriarchal poise. ¡°Could you fire a bullet that someone else had put a memory into?¡± She asked. ¡°Because I have a worthless clod of an ex-husband who I would not mind losing pieces of.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Harlan said, sending a nine millimeter round through the air with a flick and a ting, a simple throw that the tired woman on the other end still fumbled to catch properly. ¡°Don¡¯t give it too much though.¡± ¡°Hold up.¡± James started to say. But he didn¡¯t get there before Milly scrunched up her face, stared at the bullet she¡¯d been given, and made a low hum of concentration. There was a brief dance light from her hand, a line of thorny red fire that crackled like electricity as it wove around the bullet before being tugged inside it. Then she let out a long breath, and let her shoulders slump. ¡°That can¡¯t be safe.¡± Mauro offered. ¡°What did you¡­ give up?¡± Aurelio asked, James pointing a finger at him and nodding to echo the question. Harlan gave a huff, and Aurelio caught on quickly. ¡°Oh. I guess you wouldn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°I do feel¡­ lighter, though.¡± Milly said. ¡°Thank you.¡± She handed the bullet back delicately, handling it like she was worried it might go off at any second. ¡°Pretty good one.¡± Harlan admitted, tucking it into a spot on their belt. ¡°At a certain point, you don¡¯t have big ones like that anymore. This¡¯ll probably kill anything under a few thousand pounds outright.¡± James tried and failed to hide his concern. ¡°Uh¡­ wat.¡± He made a pointed coughing sound. ¡°That seems¡­ dramatic.¡± ¡°Oh, please. I¡¯m sure you can do worse.¡± Harlan said. ¡°I really can¡¯t.¡± James answered honestly. ¡°My specialty is making new people feel welcome in our world, not heavy ordinance.¡± He paused, and glanced at Milly, who was wearing a thin smile on her face, her lipstick outlining the emotion in faded red. ¡°Oh.¡± He said, struck with a sudden thought. ¡°That¡¯s why¡­¡± James let the thought trail off unspoken. But it was hard to unsee, once he¡¯d made the connection. There was a reason that Harlan was so reckless with pouring even recent memories into their bullets. There was a method to their madness. Or rather, there was a method to their addiction. Milly had just given up what she must have thought was one of the worst memories of her life, and even not knowing what it was, she was clearly okay with it. More than okay. She was happy, in a situation where they were all stressed and afraid. How long would it take someone, chasing that feeling, to get down to just a pruned foundation of a personality, a notebook of suggestions from their past self, and a desire to feel anything like it again? He was pretty sure Harlan knew. His mind danced with ideas of how that kind of life would be lived, how that sort of spiral into self-annihilation would change a person. But he didn¡¯t have much time to process that. And he probably wouldn¡¯t until he was out of here. This place just had too much pressure to make him comfortable getting too lost in thought here. Like the fact that the mist was thinning from back the way they came. Normally, something that would be good for visibility. But here, the only light came from the mist itself, and as the breeze moved it in currents, the street the group had passed over started to darken. ¡°That can¡¯t be good.¡± Zari said, standing up with James. The girl tried to make it sound confident, but James knew that voice. That was the voice he used when he was bullshitting. ¡°No it cannot.¡± James said, drawing his pistol and double checking it again for the hundredth time. ¡°I should have brought more weapons.¡± ¡°I should have brought a real gun.¡± Harlan said, shifting position to the side of the group as the darkness spread. The civilians backed away. ¡°What do we do?!¡± Aurelio didn¡¯t do a very good job keeping the fear out of his voice. ¡°Aren¡¯t we supposed to wait here for directions?!¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said. ¡°This is fine. We¡¯ve got some time, and there isn¡¯t anything¡­¡± He just decided to shut up as the light swept out of a whole two block section of the distance they¡¯d covered. And, one by one, the streetlights they¡¯d past flickered to life. A warm and inviting orange glow cast down onto the ground in puddles of light. From out of the darkness around one of the streetlights, a group of figures stepped into view. Even from this distance, everyone could hear them laughing and talking, even if they couldn¡¯t make out the words. Or maybe they weren¡¯t words at all. The figures were all of different heights, but clearly wearing hooded sweatshirts, their faces concealed. And of the ten to fifteen humanoid shapes, maybe four of them were¡­ dragged along, James thought might be the best way to say it. They lagged behind, and only moved in jerks and spurts when the mob moved far enough forward. ¡°Oh, fuck these things.¡± He said, and raise his gun to take aim. It was a long shot, but he was pretty sure he could make it. Next to him, Harlan took a similar shooter¡¯s stance, quirking an eyebrow at him. ¡±Okay, now you can shoot things.¡± James said. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Harlan asked. ¡°Oh my god, I hate you so much.¡± James zeroed in on the lead hooded figure. But before he pulled the trigger, the crowd hit the edge of the light, and stepped into the dark again. He waited for them to emerge into the next spot of illumination, but they didn¡¯t. ¡°Everyone, cover your ears. And get behind us. Watch the intersection, don¡¯t let us get jumped.¡± Then the crowd stepped into view again. On the other side of the street, half the distance between them and James gone. He was pretty sure they hadn¡¯t teleported, but it was really hard to tell when the darkness outside the light was so pitch black. He adjusted his aim, and opened fire. Next to him, Harlan did the the same. Each of them taking two slow ranging shots, before the next three bullets went for headshots on the various figures. Bodies jerked and slumped, but didn¡¯t fall, as their gunfire cracked through the otherwise quiet neighborhood air, and then after they stopped shooting, the sound of the crowd of figures laughing and talking came back again just like it had been. ¡°No kills!¡± Harlan announced, just as the mob of laughing hooded humanoids exploded into motion, rushing their direction with a sudden burst of speed. ¡°Lost em!¡± James added his own voice as he failed to track the group into the darkness. He knew he¡¯d hit some of them, but none of them had gone down. Which meant whatever they were, they were alarmingly durable. He grit his teeth as he got a really bad idea, and took his steadying hand off his gun to dip it into his pocket and grab the empty memory bullet that Harlan had given him. Before he could do anything, there was a chorus of screams and yells from the others, and Harlan barked out something else. ¡°On your left!¡± Their voice was direct, and James reacted instantly as the words cut over the other voices, spinning ninety degrees and dropping into a crouch as one of the sticky orb dogs rushed out from between a fence and one of the houses. It rushed him faster than he could realize he was being charged, but deflected off the shield bracer¡¯s dome when it got five feet away and lunged for him. Rusted nail teeth scraping along the light as James lined up a shot and splattered the foul smelling insides of its ¡®head¡¯ across the street. Then the light went away around him. The wind peeling the mist away and leaving him in the dark. He could see the spaces around him that were still lit, but he couldn¡¯t see the ground under his own feet. He rose as steadily as he could anyway, and started taking slow steps backward, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the dark as he walked himself backward toward everyone else. He felt the air move an inch from his skin, and threw himself to the side as something tried to grab him. Or hit him. Or eat him. Probably not that last one, his bracer had three charges left and would have stopped it. He didn¡¯t have the focus to switch his third bracer on its own, so he just trusted his ability to shoot before he got grabbed. Letting his Aim extrapolate position based on arm length, speed of movement, and some impulse that he was pretty sure was precognition at this point, James brought his gun up and squeezed off shots one at a time into the dark. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Then he ducked, pushing his enhanced reaction time to the limit as something tried to rip his head off. He kicked out and hit something that felt like a knee, and suddenly knew he was surrounded. Laughter and mimicked words suddenly blossomed to life around him, and he felt his blood go cold even as he shot two of the sources. He couldn¡¯t see. He could feel grabs coming, he could even react to it, but his body was sore and tired and didn¡¯t obey him perfectly even on a good day and he couldn¡¯t keep doing this. Though he was pretty sure Harlan shooting at him wasn¡¯t making it better. The first few shots from Harlan he didn¡¯t even know if they were aimed his way. But he knew for sure when one hit the shield of his third bracer, still set to 9mm. And James was reminded that the weird fucking bullets the Wolfpack used didn¡¯t play well with his defenses. The dome of protection whined and screamed as the bullet hit it. And for a few seconds, James was surrounded with light, and he could see. The hooded figures - none of them had faces, there was nothing human under the cloth - were surrounding him in a cluster and seemed to be flinching at the flare. Time seemed to crawl to a standstill. James breathed in. There were sixteen people, half of them slumped like they were sleeping on their feet. But they weren¡¯t people; they were sweatshirts over twisting wads of coiled red flesh. And across the ground, lines that looked like exaggerated exposed nerves fed from each of them into other figures; each of the hooded things was a node in a network. Like a walking mind. No wonder none of them had gone down; they weren¡¯t people, they were more like limbs. Maybe. James didn¡¯t have time to consider if he was wrong. He saw the one that was the ¡®center¡¯. Not in the middle of the pack, it was off to the side, innocuous. He¡¯d hit it a few times already. James breathed out, and let the Winter¡¯s Climb magic manifest him a helping hand. With one hand, he grabbed the bullet Harlan had thrown him while his other ejected the mostly empty magazine from his pistol. He was already loading the round as he grabbed his memory of being told that Research may have devised a space elevator and was doing some tests and crammed it down into the tiny murderous seed. As the bullet that had clipped his shield punched through and zipped off into the dark, the whine of the shield bracer was replaced by Zhu screaming. Then James finished slapping the magazine back into place, and, feeling his vision going spotty in the sudden darkness and with his lack of oxygen, leveled it at where he knew the central thing was, and shot it. There were no special effects from Harlan¡¯s bullets. Not when they were fired, anyway. Instead, there was just a series of thuds and a sudden lack of anyone trying to kill him as the whole cluster of bodies dropped away, and a rattle of metal on pavement along with the meatier sounds. [Killer : Shallow : +3 Skill Points] ¡°Zhu.¡± James gasped out. ¡°Hey. Zhu. Hey.¡± The navigator was roiling in James¡¯ mind, the screaming turning ragged as James¡¯ own words became panicked. He pushed himself to move, trying to talk as he walked back toward where the light still was. ¡°Hey, talk to me. What¡¯s going on? What happened? Zhu?¡± The navigator didn¡¯t stop screaming as he layered speech over the cry of pain. ¡°Hurtsssss.¡± He hissed in James¡¯ thoughts. ¡°Why?! Why?!¡± ¡°Why what? What happened?¡± James felt a shared phantom ache from where something had torn a chunk out of Zhu. Not a big one, but something abrupt. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± James asked as calmly as possible, which wasn¡¯t really that calm at all. ¡°You did something that-¡° Zhu stopped talking with words and drew an arc of an orange arrow in James¡¯ vision. James, exhausted but still paying attention, lurched to the side just as something rushed past them, fleshy brown and green orbs of a body barely visible in the glow of Zhu¡¯s stabilizing projection. The navigator swept the serrated tail that he had sideways as James dodged, and James added a pair of mundane bullets to it, which caused the dog thing to sprawl in a wet pop onto the road as it bounded into the lit grey mist. But it wasn¡¯t the only or even the first of the creatures to pour out of the surroundings and toward the survivors. James caught a glimpse of them beset as he turned his back to the dark and rushed toward the light of the intersection. A mental tug that wasn¡¯t meant for him washed past, and three of the pack of the pustulent dogs pivoted to charge Harlan, who walked out of the dark off to James¡¯ left with a rationed calm, their handgun held out steadily, putting shots into the creatures that mindlessly charged them. But those weren¡¯t the only dogs. Two more were running at the group of survivors from the sides, and unlike James, no one else here had the reflexes to form battlefield strategies on the fly. James tried to shoot the one that was on a straight line for the cart with Sienna still sitting on it, the girl screaming as she threw herself backward when she saw the threat, but still barely able to stand. He knew he could hit it. Which was why it was bad when his gun clicked empty, and James swore loudly as he realized he hadn¡¯t been counting bullets. He started running, already knowing he was too late, ignoring the continued shooting and wet howls from Harlan¡¯s direction as he raced to try to save anyone. The dog slammed into the cart, the tiger still harnessed to it skidding sideways in startled feline terror as it was dragged along. Then the dog thing opened mouths on two of the orbs that made up its roughly quadrupedal body, and snapped forward at the already wounded girl. Her friend nailed it in the head with a club made out of a chair leg. Not hard enough. James knew firsthand how hard it could be to commit to hurting something, even when it was trying to kill you. But the blow knocked it back slightly, and a second later snapped at her, causing Zari to scream and weakly fling the club at it as she jerked backward. But that second it took to reposition and shake itself, some of the balls of flesh along its flank vibrating as it did so, James reached them. James could run very fast when he needed to. He hit the dog with a flying tackle, shoving off the ground with both feet, no longer containing his boosted acceleration as he slammed his knees into the side of the creature hard enough that bits of it squelched and ruptured under him. With his right hand, he grabbed at one of the orbs, fingers sinking into loose leathery skin as momentum carried him forward and he wrenched his arm practically out of his shoulder socket imparting some of that momentum onto his prey. His left hand and the icy limb he was still working with slapped his last half-empty magazine into his gun as the dog rolled across the street and collided with the sidewalk in the direction it had come from. Then James shot it. Behind him, someone screamed again, and he whipped around, seeing the man who hadn¡¯t given him his name swinging like he was going for a home run as the dog savagely ripped a mouthful of flesh out of the collapsed form of Milly. This strike was meant to hurt, and it popped one of the orbs before the dog howled with a sticky voice and tried to scramble forward onto him. The man backed up, putting Aurelio in a good position for a hit, but James could already see the him freezing up. These people weren¡¯t fighters, as evidenced when another dog came running out of the darkness for them, claws clicking with hostile taps on the street when there weren¡¯t gunshots or screams drowning them out, and Mauro and Aurelio turned and ran for the intersection. ¡°Turn right!¡± Zhu shouted at them as James rolled sideways, put himself in a prone shooting position, and took out the incoming threat with one of his last shots. He was pretty sure he had four left. ¡°Right! Into the cul de sac!¡± The navigator¡¯s voice was thick with pain and fear, but James could feel him pulling directions out of the air around them. A kind of vibration to match the kick of the gun that was leaving his palms feeling like he¡¯d just sandpapered them. ¡°James, we need to go! You two, go! Follow them! Right, right!¡± Zhu cast a feathered hand in the direction of the running survivors, pointing the two girls and the tiger that way as Zari helped Sienna back onto the cart they¡¯d righted. ¡°Go!¡± ¡°One more.¡± James said, staggering up to a knee, then pushing himself further to his feet with a heavy breath. ¡°Hey, REM! On your left!¡± He grabbed the mop pole out of Aurelio¡¯s hands as he dashed by the paralyzed man. He was a little too late, as the dog caught a mouth full of rusting nails on the unnamed man¡¯s leg just over his knee right before James got there. He screamed, swinging down over and over with his club, as James brought the pole he was holding around in a sweeping arc, imparting as much force as he could as he slammed it into the dog¡¯s flank. The pole snapped in half, the crack of the impact half wet flesh and half wood breaking. James pulled it back on the rebound, finished pulling it into splintered halves, and jammed both of them into the dog that was still savaging the other man¡¯s leg. It was messy and didn¡¯t work perfectly and James¡¯ hands hurt, but he drew blood, and the creature let go of its target to try to bite him instead. [Killer : Low : +1 Skill Point] Finally, finally, it collapsed and died as James drove one of his makeshift stakes into its mouth. He decided he was going to fucking kill whatever thought this counted as ¡®low¡¯. And then he pointed in the direction of the intersection. ¡°Go.¡± He hoarsely muttered. ¡°Catch up. We¡¯re right behind you. Johns, where¡¯s Johns?¡± ¡°Here.¡± The EMT¡¯s voice was tight and professional as he crouched over the prone form of the older woman. ¡°She¡¯s lost a lot of blood.¡± He said clinically. ¡°Lacerations and puncture wounds. She¡¯ll need surgery.¡± James staggered the few steps it took to get to them, looking down at where the calm man was trying to carefully put a tourniquet on the arm of a figure that was staring up at the grey sky with empty eyes and a face half torn off. ¡°Johns.¡± James croaked out. ¡°Is anyone coming?¡± Johns asked, flinching slightly as Harlan shot the last dog that was on them. ¡°How long until a bus gets here?¡± ¡°Man. Come on.¡± James didn¡¯t know what to say, or what the hell he was supposed to do with someone who had apparently decided he¡¯d had enough of reality right now. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta go.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t leave-¡° ¡°She¡¯s gone.¡± James¡¯ voice threatened to break. ¡°Please, she¡¯s gone, and we have to go.¡± ¡°I¡­ but¡­¡± The EMT looked down like he was only just now paying attention to what he was doing. ¡°Oh.¡± He said. ¡°Well fuck.¡± The words came out so simply. The same way a person would comment on burning dinner, or dropping their car keys. ¡°We¡­ need to go.¡± He latched onto what James said. ¡°Yeah. Go grab Aurelio before he wanders the wrong direction. Head right, into the cul de sac. I¡¯m gonna get Harlan and catch up.¡± James didn¡¯t want to do that. He wanted to go sleep for a month, preferably in the bath under the Lair where he could be warm and have less goo on him. But he still hauled Johns up and the two of them split past each other. ¡°Harlan!¡± James sighed in relief as a curl of mist moved past and illuminated the professional soldier crouched next to the pile of hooded bodies, sweeping up bullets. ¡°Come on!¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m done here.¡± Harlan answered, hurrying back over. ¡°Don¡¯t forget your mag.¡± They said, pointing to the ground near one of the splattered bodies. Just a casual little comment as they jogged past. ¡°I heard the ghost, I¡¯ll take point.¡± Harlan moved like they¡¯d been reenergized. Or maybe they were just in better shape than James was. ¡°Give me some of the¡­¡± James couldn¡¯t even get his words to come out right, and Harlan ignored him as they moved. So he just sighed and started moving back, eyes open for any more enemies. ¡°Zhu, are you okay?¡± He asked as he walked. ¡°I am not.¡± The navigator said. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°I fed a memory into a bullet. Bad idea, obviously.¡± He said. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you know what it¡­ was?¡± ¡°No. Your memories are me. Please¡­ please don¡¯t¡­¡± Zhu¡¯s voice shook as they passed by Milly¡¯s body, James stopping to silently find her ID in her pockets and add it to his growing stack. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Never again.¡± James said simply. ¡°Though at least we know Harlan¡¯s probably immune to infomorphs, if they¡¯re eternally doing this. Who the fuck would want to live in their head?¡± ¡°No one. Ever.¡± Zhu shivered across James¡¯ tailbone. ¡°Thank you. And I¡¯m sorry.¡± James swept his gaze once more over the houses before he started moving through the intersection toward the others, Johns moving out to grab Aurelio who had wandered the wrong way somehow. He didn¡¯t blame either of them for being dazed or confused or just flat out broken. This day had gone so bad, so fast. Most normal people probably would have fallen apart by now. ¡°God, Milly, I¡¯m sorry.¡± He said to himself, taking a long breath through his nose as he tried to fill his lungs and found he couldn¡¯t quite make his breath feel like it was enough. The downside of the Winter¡¯s Climb magic siphoning off some of his air every breath he took. He almost thought he saw motion in one of the houses, but he snapped his eyes shut and looked away, not wanting to test his luck there again. And then he moved to catch up with the others. Johns half jogged to reach him, Aurelio trailing behind, which was why the historian was the closest to the manhole cover in the middle of the intersection that James hadn¡¯t even thought to think about when it erupted. It was a thick green mist, matching the vibe and light, if not the consistency, of the mist around them. In under a second, Aurelio was consumed by it. The manhole cover didn¡¯t even rattle or hiss as the substance spewed from it, it just disgorged the cloud, which then started to slowly disperse around it. Johns didn¡¯t see, but he saw James¡¯ face turn terrified and instantly obeyed the shout to run, only turning to look back as he passed James and the two of them backpedaled away from the stuff. It took a minute for it to really disperse into the mist around them, the green fading to grey as it mingled with the air, until it was undetectable just by looking. ¡°Well that¡¯s fucking terrifying.¡± James said. ¡°Shit, Aurelio!¡± A pulse of fear mingled with guilt hit him as he remembered the other man. But Aurelio just walked out of the mist at a hurried pace, looking like he was holding his breath. ¡°Am I melting or something?!¡± He demanded frantically as he approached James and Johns. ¡°Is my skin falling off?!¡± ¡°No and don¡¯t touch us!¡± Johns barked. ¡°Stay back!¡± He held a threatening hand out, and Aurelio obeyed, despite the horrified look on his face. ¡°He¡¯s probably contagious, whatever it is. Just like when we got here.¡± ¡°Not everything is contagious.¡± James said. ¡°I think. Maybe. Okay, probably. But we can¡¯t leave him.¡± He looked at Aurelio with pity. ¡°Keep your distance, okay? Until we know what just happened. If you get a survival reward, speak up, and we¡¯ll see if we can figure it out.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah, of course.¡± Aurelio looked down at his hands with worry. ¡°What about¡­¡± He rolled a shoulder and tapped the strap of the backpack he was wearing, ¡°the food? Should I¡­¡± ¡°Ditch it.¡± James said with a defeated groan. ¡°Is there anything in there but baked goods?¡± A shake of the head in replay, the elegant curl of his hair bobbing as Aurelio answered wordlessly. ¡°Alright, just toss it. Less weight at least.¡± They rejoined the others standing in the middle of a ring of asphalt surrounded by houses that towered over them on the slope of the cul de sac. Aurelio kept his distance, but everyone was on guard as they stood there. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Zari asked James as he dragged his legs forward. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°Milly¡¯s dead. Aurelio might be infected with something, so he¡¯s staying separate from us for now. Is anything else wrong?¡± ¡°My knee hurts like Satan pissed on it.¡± The unnamed man said with a wheezing nasal voice. ¡°Cool.¡± James didn¡¯t ask how that would translate to pain. Something to do with¡­ sulfur? He assumed? ¡°Zhu, save me from this. What next?¡± ¡°Between those two houses. Fight through the yards. We will find a walking path, and it will lead us to¡­ to¡­ another neighborhood.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathered arm faltered back to layer against James¡¯ armored and cut flesh. ¡°I am sorry. There is more walking.¡± ¡°When do we stop walking?!¡± Mauro threw up his arms, and looked like he immediately regretted the exertion. ¡°When you¡¯re dead.¡± Harlan said, slapping him on the shoulder. ¡°What¡¯s the over under on looting the houses? This place looks modeled on American suburbs. Might be some guns.¡± ¡°Do not go into the houses.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice echoed like crunching gravel. ¡°You¡­ you do not come out again if you go into the houses.¡± James winced. ¡°Okay.¡± He said quietly, pulling out the flask of exercise potion and taking a tiny sip, letting the liquid push him back to something that would hurt less as his Endurance kept him going. ¡°Everyone take a sip. We¡¯re almost out of this, but¡­ well, shit, it¡¯s not like we¡¯re gonna last without it.¡± That was the wrong thing to say. But he didn¡¯t have the energy to take it back now. ¡°Let¡¯s¡­ let¡¯s take a breath, and then get moving. Harlan, does your tiger need rest ever? I never asked. Sorry tiger.¡± He was rambling again. The tiger looked at him like it was offended at the thought of needing to take a break. Or maybe he was imagining that. The wind swept in again near them, and the left half of the cul de sac plunged into darkness as the strands of mist were blown away. The sound of a distant car engine mixed with the noise of children laughing from a nearby building. There was a sweet smell in the air, and a texture like wet dust with every breath. A streetlight on the other side of the cul de sac flickered to life, the light turning on with a comforting orange radiation as the lamp post straightened up and did its best job to mimic a stationary object. ¡°Okay.¡± James said, looking toward the gap between the houses that Zhu had pointed to. It was a thin gap between the buildings, with the boxy forms of air conditioning units blocking it off from being a straight line. A fence at the end of it cut off the backyards of both homes, rough wooden planks and gates that didn¡¯t have obvious latches. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving.¡± Chapter 226 The only thing I do know is that we have to be kind. Please, be kind. Especially when we don''t know what''s going on. -Waymond Wang, Everything Everywhere All At Once- _____ They didn¡¯t move right away. Partly to give everyone a breather, partly so James could refill one of his magazines with bullets Harlan gave him that they said were ¡®alright, but not the most important memories¡¯, and partly because the front lawn of the house they were heading toward had stood up and started dragging itself away like a worm. The dripping mud of its underside leaving a trail on the sidewalk as it undulated its way around the twisted cul de sac to one of the homes that had a brick patio, pushed into the space, shivered like a dog shaking itself, and then settled in. It looked like a perfectly normal lawn. You couldn¡¯t even see the exposed teeth after it had come to a rest. ¡°Fuck that.¡± James had spat out. ¡°Harlan, shoot that lawn.¡± He pointed to the sod on the other side of the thin path they were going to have to take. Harlan snorted and commented that they didn¡¯t take orders from James, but then did it anyway. The bullet caused yelps of fear from the survivors who weren¡¯t prepared for more gunfire. James, though, was more unsettled by how Harlan had used exactly the same language to tell him he wasn¡¯t their boss that they had twice already now. He was more than ready to believe Nate¡¯s assessment of this situation, now. Harlan was gone. They¡¯d shot their own memory so many times they didn¡¯t even know their own mission statement. It wasn¡¯t that they were evil or anything; actually, their lack of a distinct personality seemed to have them tending toward a sort of instinctive human sense of teamwork. But this was such a bad situation, and if he had any choice James would have bailed out of this instantly. ¡°Alright.¡± He said, not voicing those thoughts as he saw the lawn fail to react to being aerated. ¡°Let¡¯s move. Sienna, you¡¯re going to have to walk. Uh¡­ you¡­¡± He gestured to the man who¡¯d taken a mouthful of nails to the knee, who was leaning on the one intact mop haft, ¡°also have to walk, but we can split the cart or something later if we carry it through.¡± James offered a hand to help the girl to her feet, while Harlan pulled back the sleeve of their bloodied turtleneck and spun the tiger back into a whorl of colored ink. That had to hurt, with the scabs on their arms. ¡°Everyone else¡­ stay close. Except you, Aurelio.¡± The man who¡¯d been caught in the cloud of tainted mist was rapidly losing the elegantly disheveled style he¡¯d had going when they¡¯d arrived here, and plunging straight down into regular disheveled. ¡°I feel fine.¡± He protested, voice coming out like he was trying really hard to convince himself as well as everyone else. ¡°Seriously, it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s fine.¡± ¡°I believe you.¡± James lied. ¡°But keep your distance, just to be safe.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± Harlan spoke up with a voice that came across as cold, despite their melodious tone. ¡°If you get close to anyone, I¡¯ll shoot you.¡± They told Aurelio without a flicker of concern. ¡°Infection protocols. Stay away, because if the choice is killing you or letting the rest of us die, it¡¯s not that hard.¡± Everyone around them showed a riot of expressions as Harlan said that, along with low mutters or uncomfortable pauses where they tried to think of what to say. Zari spoke up first, saying, ¡°You can¡¯t just shoot all your problems! Stop threatening people! What¡¯s wrong with you?!¡± The woman looked like she was ready to try punching Harlan if needed. Or maybe just finally cracking under the stress and collapsing. ¡°He threatened me first.¡± Harlan replied, unoffended. ¡°Okay, Harlan¡¯s emotional problems aside, Aurelio, you¡¯re¡­ you¡­ we can¡¯t¡­¡± James faltered. How were you supposed to tell someone they were a walking biohazard? Johns spoke up, voice still ragged. ¡°You¡¯re an infection vector.¡± He said. ¡°You can¡¯t be near us. Ideally we¡¯d quarantine you for observation for a month. But we can¡¯t do that here, and even if it would be smart¡­¡± James caught the glance the EMT shot him. ¡°Even if it would be smart, we aren¡¯t leaving you behind.¡± As if just now realizing, or perhaps just now confronting how close to his own mortality he was, Aurelio jerked back in a single twitch of his body, blinking at them wide-eyed. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°We need to keep moving.¡± James spoke to everyone. ¡°We¡¯re not safe here, there could be more dogs or something worse anytime. We need to move. Sienna, on your feet, we can¡¯t drag that cart across barkdust with you on it.¡± He waved them all together, and then led the way out of the center of the cul de sac¡¯s asphalt toward the gap between the two houses Zhu had pointed them at. With a hand gesture, he pointed Harlan to watch their flank, and made sure all the backpacks were still with them, all the survivors helping each other walk. He hyperventilated as he moved, accepting being a little lightheaded to recharge his Breath faster in case he needed a hand. It hadn¡¯t set in for most of them, he suddenly realized. Just how dangerous it was, how almost assuredly dead they were. They¡¯d seen disease and monsters take others, but they were all in shock. It didn¡¯t feel close to anyone. Except maybe Aurelio, now, who was stumbling along behind them and whispering that he didn¡¯t want to die, hopefully far enough away that nothing would spread to them. A grim part of James¡¯ brain said that he should just quietly kill the man before it got bad. They couldn¡¯t help him if he collapsed, couldn¡¯t even risk getting close even if they had something that could help. Aurelio was already dead, this would just be¡­ kinder. He squashed that thought. They¡¯d lived through at least one plague so far. One more was just another skill point. He led them forward, pausing before the curb of the sidewalk for only a moment. Part of his brain thought he¡¯d seen it move, and he was tempted to shoot it. Instead he kicked it with a sharp strike, and then only proceeded when the rock failed to react. The home¡¯s garage was closed, the outdoor lights were off. The driveway was one of those concrete rectangles filled with small pebbles, giving it a rough texture that James remembered shredding his knees on more than once as a kid. There were still no cars, and no signs of life at all; even the tattered curtains they could see when they got closer and the mist thinned stayed immobile. No faces looked out at them. It was just¡­ a house. On the right side of the house, passing by the elevated rotting wood of the front deck, a strip of barkdust traced an earthy line to a wooden gate to the backyard. Johns tugged the cart along, picking up the relatively light metal frame to carry it when the gap got tight as they crept through. The space wasn¡¯t quite wide enough to walk two by two, so they filtered in single file as the fence separating the house they were up against from its neighbor closed them off. The air conditioning unit was a concern to maneuver around. Not because it was bulky or even operational, but because James had been wrong earlier about how normal it was. The thing grew out of the flaking white siding of the house it was attached to, like a mechanical tumor that still coughed and sputtered as its fan worked to¡­ well, presumably to regulate the interior temperature. This sort of thing usually fascinated James. It still did, really, even now. What was the point of this, his brain demanded to know. Did the dungeon get something useful out of having organic climate control? Was it a threat to them, or was it part of a larger ecosystem? Maybe these things were what made the light-mist, or in some way fed off the houses themselves. Did dungeon creatures crack into these fleshy machines for their own food? Could the air conditioner fight back? It certainly looked immobile. But then, from a distance, it hadn¡¯t looked like it had rounded edges of glistening skin, or a fleshy web that covered the fan instead of a metal grate. Harlan kept their gun trained on it the whole time everyone came by, even waiting for Aurelio to pass before breaking eye contact with the lump of flesh machinery. The gate was simple wood, with a simple latch on the other side that James had to crane his arm over to flip open. Nothing tried to bite him, which was good, but he still had his gun¡¯s muzzle pressed to the gate as he did so in case he had to shoot through it. He was pretty sure his Aim would let him hit anything through proprioception of his hand, but it was nice he didn¡¯t have to learn. ¡°Fuck.¡± The quiet man with them exhaled as they saw the backyard. It was covered in lawn, which no one was particularly keen on. ¡°I don¡¯t think this is alive.¡± James said, pointing at it with his free hand. ¡°Look, it¡¯s half dead.¡± That was probably the least worrying part of the space. The yard was large, maybe sixty or seventy feet from the sliding glass door of the home it abutted to the back fence. That fence was a rotting mess of overgrown wood and splintered planks; a large chunk of it had been taken out by something at one point that made it look almost cartoonish, while a whole swath of the right side was absorbed by tangled blackberry vines. There was a low stone retaining wall halfway across it where the lawn ended and something that might have been an elevated garden started. If it weren¡¯t mostly dying weeds and fallen branches. But on the lawn, there was also a swimming pool. A standing one, the kind that could be folded up in the winter and packed away. It was maybe five feet tall, the ladder for it tipped over nearby along with a handful of children¡¯s toys and pool noodles. The light sound of sloshing water filled the air here, along with a more herbal tone to the pungent smell that this whole dungeon had. On the other side of the pool¡¯s hard blue plastic, James could see what looked like a shed. The door sat half open on creaking hinges, and he could see a shovel leaning against it, propping it open in what looked like an accidental collapse. ¡°Is it safe?¡± Zari asked. And then, when James gave her an incredulous look on pure instinct, she turned bright red and added, ¡°I mean, is¡­ can we¡­ go?¡± ¡°Oh. Yeah.¡± James said. ¡°Harlan! Go check out the back fence! Johns, you¡¯re with me, everyone else, stay close together, follow after Harlan but don¡¯t - dude put the cart down - don¡¯t touch anything, okay?¡± ¡°What about me?¡± Aurelio asked from a hopefully safe distance. ¡°Do I¡­¡± his face was ashen, though if that was from some sickness setting in or just fear, was hard to tell. ¡°This side of the gate, still stay back. Maybe sit for a bit.¡± Aurelio nodded rapidly. ¡°Y-yeah. I can fling that.¡± He said, rushing to grab the gate as James moved through before it snapped shut. James pointed to the yard¡¯s nearby corner as Aurelio came through, and he threw himself into a seated position on the dirt and dying grass without complaint. Still grasping for words to say, James just tried to keep the fatalistically pitying look off his face, and turned to join Johns as they circled the pool and headed for the shed. He got a good look into the big artificial basin as they got closer, and saw it was still mostly full of water, with a thick layer of green algae on top. ¡°Hm. Don¡¯t drink that.¡± James instructed. There was a brief moment of quiet, and then Johns made a strangled noise as an unexpected eruption of manic laughter threatened to overwhelm him. He held up a hand to James as he doubled over, trying to hold back the abrupt reaction to the absurdity of the whole thing. ¡°Is¡­¡± he gasped in a breath of air, ¡°¡­is that something you do a lot? Drink random shit from places like this? Something you¡¯ve got experience with?¡± ¡°¡­I¡­ don¡¯t have to answer that.¡± James said, which got a much less manic and much more honest laugh from the medic. ¡°But also I feel personally called out by that statement. For reasons I will not explain.¡± ¡°Hey man, you¡¯ve got the health potions. I¡¯m prepared to take your word on what to drink or not.¡± Johns admitted with a shrug. ¡°They¡¯re not¡­¡± James trailed off with a sigh as they approached the shed. ¡°Whatever. No, in the first¡­ the first place like this I found, that set my life on this insane trajectory, my boyfriend and I found a vending machine.¡± He tilted his head just enough to eye Johns conspiratorially. ¡°It¡¯s very picky about what currency it takes, and is very sarcastic. It¡¯s also great. We keep it in our office now.¡± ¡°You have someone¡­ waiting?¡± Johns asked. ¡°Shit, my wife. Ex. Whatever. I¡¯m gonna die in here and she¡¯s gonna think I just bailed on child support.¡± He rolled his knuckles into his forehead over one eye. ¡°How do you do this?¡± James grimaced. ¡°Normally it¡¯s not this bad.¡± He whispered. ¡°But as for how we do this? We loot that shed, hopefully find something magic that gives us an edge, and then we follow Zhu¡¯s directions, and we go one step at a time.¡± ¡°¡­what about the kid?¡± ¡°Aurelio?¡± ¡°Yeah. He¡¯s¡­ is he¡­?¡± Johns shrugged idly, the uncertainty on his face looking out of place. Like he was used to being in control of his situation. James didn¡¯t have answers. He expressed this by saying ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out. Now, pull the door open and step to the side. Like, outward. That way.¡± He took up a stance with his gun ready but aimed low, safely away from the shed just in case something burst out of it when Johns pulled the door open. He braced himself as the other man reached out and poked the rusted iron handle before nervously grabbing it and yanking the shed door open, hinges squeaking like they¡¯d never experienced oil in their entire existence. The shovel that was propping the door open dropped to the dirt with a muffled thud, and the inside was revealed. Nothing happened. It was just a shed. He took a deep breath, but kept his shooter¡¯s stance, long since having adapted to a world where ¡°didn¡¯t attack me instantly¡± was in no way the same as ¡°not filled with hostile paint cans or something¡±. James inched forward, toeing the shovel out of the way and peeking inside. There was an old particle board shelf where half the shelves had snapped in half, leaving a pile of loose nails, spray cans, and broken glass on the floor. A stack of bags of compost or potting soil. A rusted old lawnmower and a red gas can. And a hard plastic bucket next to the door with a bushel of various tool handles sticking out of it. ¡°Looks clear.¡± He said, keeping his gun in a tight grip as he stepped inside. ¡°Is everyone else doing okay?¡± He asked Johns as the other man followed him. ¡°They look shook up.¡± Came the reply. ¡°I¡¯m shocked.¡± James deadpanned. Johns snorted. ¡°We all are.¡± He said. ¡°Classic case of PTSD in the making. We¡¯re being traumatized in real time.¡± He spread one of his hands and stared at it as he raised it over his head to look at the ceiling of the shed. ¡°Thought this would feel different.¡± James gingerly picked up what seemed to be an aerosol can of lighter fluid, a prospect that sounded absolutely insane and not real. ¡°We¡¯ll get you some therapy when we¡¯re out.¡± He said. And then, realizing he might sound sarcastic, followed up with ¡°I mean, actually. The Order has contingencies for this sort of thing. We do recovery for anyone caught up in this shit all the time.¡± ¡°You just called yourself ¡®The Order¡¯ with a straight face.¡± Johns accused him, pulling a wood axe out of the bucket of tools. ¡°That¡¯s weird. You¡¯re weird. I hate this, and this axe isn¡¯t catching on fire or anything. How magic are magic items?¡± ¡°Random.¡± James sighed. ¡°Though that thing¡¯s gonna be useful anyway. Is that a sledgehammer?¡± He brightened up as he spotted the weighted tool. ¡°Sure.¡± Johns settled the axe at his side and hefted the sledgehammer out of the bucket to hand to James, but his face fell as he did so. ¡°Oh. No.¡± He tossed the tool toward James with an idle flick that shouldn¡¯t have worked. Especially when the sledgehammer smashed into the far wall and put a hole in it, causing Johns to jump and bite out a curse. ¡°Jesus! What the fuck!?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t throw things from dungeons.¡± James said, modulating his heart rate to put on an appearance of calm. ¡°It¡¯s a thing to keep in mind. Along with ¡®nerf guns can be dangerous¡¯. You¡¯ll pick it up.¡± Or die here, his brain whispered. Ignoring that and not voicing it, he grabbed the handle of the hammer and yanked it out. It caught a little on the rotted wood, but when he lifted it, it felt like moving a cardboard tube, and not at all a twenty five pound tool. ¡°Huh. Neat.¡± He said, giving the wall a light tap and seeing the wood crack heavily. ¡°Weight¡¯s negated for whoever¡¯s holding it, I guess. Or something like that. This seems imminent abusable, and I know at least one engineer who¡¯s gonna want to use this for space travel.¡± ¡°You know weird people.¡± ¡°I already said she was an engineer.¡± James replied. ¡°Also, hey, quick thing. Thanks for keeping it together so far. You¡¯ve been a huge help.¡± Johns just grunted, his masculinity not letting him accept the compliment without feeling awkward. ¡°What else am I supposed to do?¡± ¡°I dunno, run screaming?¡± James shrugged. ¡°Panic, do something stupid, and die? You¡¯d be amazed what people do¡­ well, maybe you wouldn¡¯t, you¡¯re an EMT.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± Johns sighed. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up with the other guy?¡± ¡°Who, Harlan?¡± James shrugged. ¡°I legit don¡¯t know. I think someone trying to kill them is why we¡¯re in this mess, but¡­ I don¡¯t know. We were only really meeting for the first time here, and they keep wiping their own memory because they¡¯re an idiot. But they¡¯re a good shot, and they¡¯re not backstabbing us yet, so¡­¡± James shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m actually sort of surprised they didn¡¯t just leave on their own. I think they think being around me increases their odds.¡± ¡°Does it?¡± ¡°Statistically? Yes.¡± ¡°That should make me feel better, but¡­¡± Johns scratched at his beard as he picked up and rolled a jar of some oily substance in his palm. James snorted. ¡°Yeah. Well. Can¡¯t help there.¡± He sighed. ¡°I¡¯m gonna check on the others. Test these tools, yeah?¡± He waved a hand at the bucket the sledgehammer had come from as he ducked under the flaking paint of the doorframe and out into the¡­ He¡¯d expected it to be light. But it wasn¡¯t; it never would be here, probably. Just the same grey mist putting off ambient light that was so dim it couldn¡¯t even be called a glow. Exactly the same atmosphere out here in this backyard as in the shed. It was disconcerting, frustrating, and was quite possibly intentional on the part of the dungeon that inside and outside had exactly the same feeling to them. Equally frustrating was that Harlan was currently aiming their pistol at Aurelio, who was frozen in fear pressed against the stained wood of the fence on the other side of the yard, babbling incoherently about how he was going to kill all of them. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. James didn¡¯t have it in him to run this time. He¡¯d been running toward every crisis so far, and it hadn¡¯t helped. He was tired. So instead he just stalked forward, skirting the plastic shell of the swimming pool and trying not to breathe too heavily while he could smell the musty green of the algae. ¡°Harlan, what the fuck are you doing this time?!¡± He demanded in what was supposed to be an authoritative tone but was undermined somewhat by an errant cough. ¡°He¡¯s threatening people.¡± ¡°I kill and your skin and eyes!¡± Aurelio yelled back in a panicked daze. ¡°Harlan, put the fucking gun down or I will shoot you.¡± James¡¯ voice was like cold steel. He was, absolutely, done with this today. His thoughts were only barely catching on the issue at hand, slipping over the world like fingers on smooth glass. But he could still focus enough to know that he was sick of Harlan fucking around. ¡°I¡¯m not kidding, Harlan.¡± ¡°He tried to approach, and threatened me.¡± Harlan said, pistol still up in a one handed grip as they titled their head to look at James. ¡°Has this been happening, around here? I should maybe just shoot him now.¡± James sucked in a long breath through his nose, eyes wide and furious. ¡°Harlan¡­¡± ¡°Blood!¡± Aurelio yelled. ¡°Yes, thanks for that needless interruption.¡± James pointed a hand at him. ¡°Sit down. Stop talking, assuming you can understand me.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ he did just start yelling about blood and murder and stuff.¡± Zari offered. She and the others were standing by the cart in the middle of the dead patch of the yard, among browned weeds and fallen branches. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t want anyone to shoot anyone! But he¡¯s freaking everyone out!¡± James watched as Aurelio carefully lowered himself to the ground, both his hands raised in front of him in a shaking terror as Harlan failed to stop aiming a gun at the man. ¡°Harlan.¡± He barked, and with a tiny snarl, the mercenary finally lowered their weapon. ¡°Alright, all of you. Listen up. This is a basic lesson in fucking humanity.¡± James was exactly the wrong combination of tired and angry as he felt himself start rambling. ¡°Dungeons are terrifying places, full of monsters and lethal threats and all sorts of other stuff you can be afraid of. They¡¯re also where half my friends come from. When something seems weird? Look at it.¡± He threw a hand out to point at Aurelio. ¡°If someone is cowering in fear, maybe consider that something is wrong and not that they¡¯re actually trying to murder you! Just, like, look at body language for a second! Consider context! Don¡¯t fucking listen to Harlan!¡± He turned back to Aurelio. ¡°Aphasia, right? You know what you¡¯re trying to say and no matter how you try the words don¡¯t work?¡± Aurelio looked like he was struggling to speak slowly and deliberate. He took a deep breath, his mouth working silently for a minute before he exhaled and enunciated carefully. ¡°Kill you.¡± He said, a look of tortured frustration shooting across his face. ¡°Great.¡± James said. ¡°If we¡¯re very lucky, that¡¯s the extent of what the gas got you with.¡± He looked over at the surviving civilians, who were still looking like they weren¡¯t sure if they should go back to resting, or be busy bolting away. ¡°Everyone please calm down, but also, please make sure you aren¡¯t standing next to any of the fallen branches.¡± Suddenly they were all very eager to look around themselves, tired eyes sparking with renewed suspicion. ¡°Why?!¡± The injured barista demanded, voice on the edge of breaking down entirely. ¡°Oh dog balls, there¡¯s no trees.¡± Mauro spoke up suddenly, jerking away from the others as he whipped his head around. ¡°Wait, is this bad?! Are we going to die?!¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Harlan said, hand still on their gun, even if it was back in their holster that they¡¯d shifted around to be less concealed and easier to access. ¡°Also are you going to put down your weapon?¡± They asked James, seemingly unconcerned. He glanced down at the sledgehammer he¡¯d forgotten he was holding. ¡°Oh, right. No.¡± Though he did swing it around to leave a divot in the dirt so that he could lean on it. ¡°Alright. Aurelio, same thing as before. You can obviously understand, so you just keep distance, and don¡¯t breathe on or touch anyone, got it? We¡¯re just gonna wait for Johns to catch up, and then we¡¯ll follow Zhu¡¯s-¡° His words cut off as the sloshing of water behind him suddenly turned into a rushing splash. Droplets of stagnate dungeon pool water raining down on him, a hefty splash of it slapping against the back of his head and soaking into his ponytail. James was pivoting when a splatter of algae hit the dead barkdust at his feet where he¡¯d been standing a second ago. But instead of the green and brown sludge just splattering on its own momentum, it sprayed out in strands that started curving back together, and worse, started reaching for James¡¯ leg. It was hard for James to estimate if the screams or the gunshots started first. Ultimately, it didn¡¯t really matter. Harlan started shooting over his shoulder, with a callous disregard for actually hitting him, while the others broke into shouts or cries, edging back away from the swimming pool at the center of the yard. Two of Harlan¡¯s shots hit the shield James hadn¡¯t adjusted away from nine millimeter bullets, and took a few seconds to pierce in and out with a vibrating squeal like glass being slowly pulled apart. The light, normally bright but not unreasonable, was still shockingly bright against the dim ambiance that James¡¯ eyes had gotten accustomed to, and as he finished swinging his body around, he couldn¡¯t quite get a good view of what Harlan was firing on. He did carve the head of the sledgehammer through the algae claw going for his ankle though. It felt almost effortless, like waving around a cardboard tube, but the impact tore the chunk of sludge apart like tissue paper. Then the shield light faded and James was looking up at the rest of the algae. He¡¯d been just about ready to let the simmering rage he¡¯d been building up go in a rapid series of sledgehammer strikes, but as soon as he realized why Harlan was shooting, that anger rapidly shifted to a wide eyed panic. After he¡¯d taken out the first ball of the stuff, he¡¯d more or less already resigned himself to fighting an algae monster, but James had mostly just expected it was the surface of the swimming pool in mass. This thing he was looking at was not. A dripping mass of slimy green vegetation and black rot towered over the yard. Drawn up out of the basin of the pool, the stuff coiled and spun itself into a massed oval form like a bloated maggot, strands of green connecting it like sticky veins to the liquid left in the pool. As James found himself gaping at the sheer size of it, and realizing his new magic hammer wasn¡¯t going to do much more than inconvenience the thing, the monster sloshed forward and slammed the upper half of its bulk over the rim of the pool. The motion snapped him out of his daze, and James kicked himself backward, hopping away as the algae blob lost a coherent form and spilled out like a wave. The smell of it as it burst over the ground was like someone had hit him in the face with a water balloon full of sewage, but that wasn¡¯t the real problem. The real problem was that everywhere bubbles of it popped, the algae just burst forward in explosions of clawing strands that rapidly pulled themselves back together when they lost momentum. James wasn¡¯t slow, but the speed that the stuff closed the thirty foot gap between them was way faster than he wanted any vegetation to actually move. The hammer in his hands was an unfamiliar weapon, so he just wielded the near weightless thing like a fencing saber, spinning and slashing at the bubbles and grasping tendrils as they got near, trying to make a fighting retreat while the others ran. He had the vague impression of Harlan sprinting in an arc around them, still firing one handed while the mercenary effortlessly reloaded and hopped over the garden¡¯s retaining wall. Also he saw Johns run out of the shed at the noise, take one look at the thing, and run back into the building. It turned out, at a certain weight, it didn¡¯t fucking matter what your form was like. A thing that weighed twenty five pounds from the perspective of whatever it hit was more or less enough to pulp any of the bits of the creature that was washing toward him. But it wasn¡¯t one creature. It was a sludge. Even as it pulled up a bulbous mound of itself like a wave, something that James could have called it¡¯s head, he knew that smashing that would still leave the stuff all around him. ¡°Break¡¯s over!¡± He yelled to the others over the sound of Harlan¡¯s useless peppering of the thing with bullets. ¡°Out! Through the gap in the back! Go!¡± Half of them were already running. The other half needed the encouragement. He just needed to buy a little time. And figure out how to get Johns out. And throw himself sideways as the algae mass spat a harpoon of itself at his head. He tried to swat it aside with the hammer, but missed entirely with the flailing motion. But then he was on the ground, and the algae a foot from his face lunged forward. He rolled sideways, ignoring the fresh set of screams from somewhere nearby. Crashed through a dead plant, snapping dry wood under him and feeling his shirt pull in a way that he knew meant he¡¯d just lost another garment from his casual rotation. Tucked his legs in as he rolled and ended up in a crouch, and from there, shot forward in a dash that took him to the edge of the algae¡¯s position. All of it turned to follow him, the spreading pool of green that was covering the yard tugging along bits of barkdust and in one case a faded red pool noodle as it shifted like a predatory liquid. ¡°Harlan!¡± James gasped out as he ducked another incoming javelin as he ran, and then swept his arm out like a fucking anime character to blast apart an arm of the stuff that was going for his neck, the hammer cleaving through it and letting him slip past the bit still in the air that wasn¡¯t moving on its own. ¡°Harlan stop shooting!¡± James yelled. ¡°If I keep shooting, it¡¯ll fall down eventually.¡± Harlan yelled back from the other side of the creature. ¡°Fuck off! Get Johns and get out of here! I¡¯ve got this!¡± He lied. ¡°Your funeral!¡± He heard the answer. James slid to a stop as a thick tendril of green splattered around his left arm, jerking him backward. He hadn¡¯t seen that one coming, but now that it was here, he could very plainly see the pulsating lines of black rot moving through the whole mess of sludge. Toward where he was caught, toward him. ¡°Nope.¡± He coughed out, tugging his arm up, which cause the stuff pulling on him to stretch like chewed gum. ¡°Nope!¡± James whipped the sledgehammer around and felt the tension leave as he took out the bulb on the ground that had spat at him. The rest of the algae on him sliding away in a soupy mess that dribbled down his arm as he moved. He tried to ignore that he¡¯d clipped his own calf with the head of the sledgehammer, and could already feel a massive tense bruise forming where he¡¯d just pulverized his flesh by accident. ¡°Johns!¡± James yelled as he tried toggling one of his bracers to ¡®algae¡¯ and hoped that worked. Not the bracer that was stopping Harlan from accidentally taking his vital organs out though. ¡°We gotta go man! Come onnnnnhhhh shit.¡± James skidded to a stop, leaning into the slide and using one hand to slow himself on the ground. That hand also snatched up a rock and flung it in a snap motion toward the tendril that was currently pinning Aurelio to the fence. He¡¯d tried to run, and hadn¡¯t gotten far enough before the algae had spread across most of the yard around its spawning pool. The rock missed entirely, but James wasn¡¯t relying on a random throw. He was already running that way, changing course as he spotted Harlan covering his exit and whipped their tiger out into the world to bound toward someone sprawled on the ground behind them, but James didn¡¯t have time for that. Aurelio was screaming about blood or something as James crushed the arm of algae that was pinning him. But the stuff didn¡¯t let go, bands of it were already stuck to the fence and were constricting Aurelio against the wood. ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡± James pointlessly ordered, and lined the sledgehammer up like a pool cue. Aurelio screamed something as James pulped the ooze that was holding one arm down by driving the hammer a half inch into the fence behind him, his hand instantly coming up to grab James by the arm and yank him sideways off balance. James felt his skin start to itch at the point of contact, but also, he realized what Aurelio was trying to do too late as a trio of curling pillars of wet green algae closed around him like a hand. Each of them bigger than he was, and James felt the fourth one that Aurelio had tried to yank him away from swish by on his side, but there was nowhere to dodge this. He whipped the hammer in an arc, but while the force of the blow parted the mass like a knife through water, just like water it flowed back together after. And then it slammed down over James¡¯ crouched form, and everything went dark. He struggled, trying to get momentum to swing, trying to keep his eyes and mouth closed, trying to break his arms or legs free and find purchase on the ground as he was lifted up and lost all sense of what direction was down when he started to get shaken around like a rag doll. Then something touched the skin on the side of his throat. Something that, even through the enveloping embrace of the algae, James could clearly feel. A putrescent texture and a burning chemical sting, he thrashed and let out a muffled scream as the thing pushed against him, and then slid into his skin, like it was jello being sucked through a straw. Pain bloomed in James¡¯ throat, all across his neck and spreading down his shoulder. Not the pain of being thrown around and suffocated; that was already happening and also he was really hard to actually damage just by shaking around. This was something else; like his flesh was boiling from the inside, a splotch of agony that started from the point of contact and spread out to cover from his collarbone to his cheek. Another one of those things touched him, this time just under his chin. James almost screamed reflexively but resisted the urge to open his mouth. Instead, he focused and relaxed his lungs as best he could, before letting go of his mental control of the purple orb that made his breathing practically dangerous. A single huff of his remaining air shot the offending bit of rot away from him, and punched a hole in the algae besides, through which James sucked in a breath as fast as he could before the relatively clean air was closed off to him. He couldn¡¯t move. He was trapped and pinned and this thing was killing him. And then something new splashed against his face. A liquid with a pungent and dominating butane smell mixed with the organic sludge that had grabbed him, some of it running in a line down his nose and into the corner of one of his pressed closed eyes. It burned anyway. The algae monster must have thought so too, since it recoiled away, and all of a sudden James was flung sideways to slam the small of his back into one of the flat rocks of the retaining wall. The air left his lungs and he saw spots in his vision, but as he forced his eyes open and tried to wipe the gasoline off his face without getting it in his eyes, he could see why. Johns had come running out of the shed and had flung the gas can - cut open for maximum spray - all across the thing. As James watched, the medic followed it up by flinging one of the jars of oil he¡¯d grabbed as well, the glass shattering on the ground and adding more chemical to the creature. James tried to say something, but couldn¡¯t get his jaw to work. He also realized he hadn¡¯t taken a breath in about two minutes, which might be a problem. Forcing his throat open and sucking in air was a struggle that was all the worse for the panic he felt at not being able to breathe, but once he got the process started, he wobbled to his feet in time to see Johns trying to get a lighter to spark in front of a spray can. He croaked out a warning to the man, but wasn¡¯t in time to tell him about the algae that was bounding along the ground toward his side, a thick stream of it splashing from point to point in rapid arcs before it jumped up and enveloped Johns¡¯ hand entirely. James flicked his vision around and spotted the sledgehammer ten feet away from him, haft standing straight up under its weight. He started crawling toward it, but was interrupted by an almost cheerful shout from Harlan. ¡°Fire in the hole!¡± James turned his head just in time to see the mercenary cock an empty hand back like they were on the pitchers mound, and then a small puddle of red ink pour off their skin that quickly turned into actual fire. Well, something fire-adjacent. It looked like fire. The words James wanted to say were ¡°Why the heck does Harlan get a fireball and I can¡¯t even get a health potion?¡± But he didn¡¯t have the breath, focus, or time to even start talking before Harlan flicked their hand forward, and the ball unfurled into a burning chain that they effortlessly whipped across the back of the algae mass. The mass that was drenched in old gasoline and oil. It didn¡¯t scream; algae didn¡¯t make any noise, obviously. Though James actually found that kind of surprising. Most dungeon things screamed in weird ways. What the whole mass did do was to curl outward from the fire, like it was trying to escape. Arms of rotting verdigris reaching out like desperate tentacles from where the fire was consuming it, before stiffening as the heat blackened it from the inside out. In seconds, most of it was crumbling into flaky ash, with the bits that were still green and alive writhing as they tried to pull themselves back together. James made it to his new hammer and leveraged himself to his feet, then started pulping the bits that were still moving, but like before, he couldn¡¯t actually kill any of them and the slimy vegetation just reformed and kept moving, albeit a lot slower. ¡°Come on.¡± James rasped out as he brought the hammer down with a splat on the bulging dome of algae that was still wrapped around Johns¡¯ ankle. ¡°I hate this place so much.¡± He punctuated the words with a manic giggle, the adrenaline and shock of his near-death catching up to him as he stumbled away. Harlan raised eyebrows as James moved past. ¡°You good?¡± They asked, skirting away from Aurelio as he stumbled over the retaining wall and ran to join the others, while Johns just took ragged breaths as he dragged himself along with James. ¡°No.¡± The word came out as a pained noise, almost a whimper. ¡°Ssssomthing in my neck. Hurts.¡± James said the word as the understatement of the year. It felt like the time he¡¯d splashed himself with oil from a deep fryer, only the pain wasn¡¯t going away. There was nothing to wash off, nothing to put burn gel on. Just the blood and tissue and muscle seeming to writhe inside him, his nerves feeling all of it. ¡°Fuck.¡± James clapped a hand to his neck as he felt bits of his body start to flow toward a single point of pain. Chunks of his flesh dissolving and pulling together where the thing had infested him and hardening into a single solid mass that hurt so bad his vision swam and he ground his teeth together like he could somehow drive it away. And then it was gone. Johns was flipping James over, as he found himself on the ground, looking up at the sky. But the pain was abruptly gone. ¡°Shit, you¡¯re going into shock.¡± Johns¡¯ voice said. James batted aside one of the man¡¯s hands from his neck. ¡°Surprisingly, no.¡± He said with what would have been an easy joking tone if he hadn¡¯t coughed in the middle of it. [Survivor : Shallow : +3 Skill Points] ¡°Wh¡­ what the fuck?¡± Johns asked. ¡°No, man, there¡¯s a chunk missing from your neck and one of your pecs.¡± ¡°It¡¯s sealed, don¡¯t worry.¡± James let out a relieved breath, fingers prodding at the missing flesh as he rose on unsteady feet and tried to shake the barkdust out of his ponytail. ¡°I¡¯m immune to¡­ shit.¡± He looked ahead of them to where Aurelio had just collapsed, and Harlan was contemptuously walking past their prone form. ¡°Oh come on!¡± James stumbled forward, Johns trying to set a hand on his back to help as the two men ran for the downed survivor. ¡°Hey. Hey, Aurelio.¡± James rolled him over, motioning Johns away. ¡°He already tapped me, stay back.¡± James told the EMT. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Aurelio looked up at him, his glasses bent at an odd angle from either the fall or the fight, hair soaked with bits of unmoving wet algae. ¡°Break and undo the hate you.¡± Aurelio gasped out in a staggered aphasia-induced voice, holding out his arm to James. James gave a brief nod as he saw a blotch of red flesh that was currently reforming itself under Aurelio¡¯s caramel skin. Turning into a cancerous lump as the thing the algae creature had infected him with melted and rearranged the human body into something painful and probably lethal. ¡°Good.¡± He said, heart still hammering as he fished through his pockets for one of the purple orbs he tended to carry with him. He knew he had a few on him, but, worryingly, he could only find one of them. The relief that he had a solution to this rapidly shifted to panic that the algae monster might have eaten the others. ¡°Here.¡± He said, dropping the orb into Aurelio¡¯s grasping hand. ¡°You just need to- yeah, that.¡± ¡°¡­cruel blue and tendons?¡± Aurelio asked, pain clearing from his eyes as the artificially induced tumor vanished instantly. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m a wizard. Enjoy not having to worry about cancer if we get out of here.¡± James sighed, not looking forward to however long he was going to have to lose control of his speech when this shared infection caught up to him. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go. Don¡¯t step on the branches, I think they¡¯re like bear traps, that one¡¯s covered in blood.¡± They were like bear traps, as James found out when they got out and saw that Zari had tripped one and was now being supported by the tiger as the flesh holding her right foot on was little more than a ragged mess of meat. Her face was puffy and red from openly crying; if she hadn¡¯t already wiped her makeup off a half a day ago it would have been a mess. Johns got to work on her ankle while James listened to the others describe the way it moved like it was alive. He sighed, shot a glance at Harlan, and gave a suggestion, then the group waited just past the breach in the fence as Harlan hopped back over with a grim grin. The repeated gunshots were a good indication that the things were alive, and that Harlan had found an excellent way to refresh their ammo. James took the time to scan the area out of the backyard, and to not feel hope as he heard another distant engine noise. Dead dirt and one rectangular patch of grass in the middle of nothing before a thin strip of paved asphalt wove through the terrain. Unlike the other side of the neighborhoods, this one seemed to have elevation, and he could see in the direction Zhu had told them to go, that the path rose up and curved around a hill before dropping down the other side out of sight. In the dim light, James could see a few other rectangle patches of sod, which he just fucking knew were alive. He toggled his bracer back to ¡®bite¡¯, since it had done fuck all to stop the algae monster. ¡°Zhu, are you awake?¡± He whispered, and heard his voice wobble to something that was almost a sob. There was no answer. ¡°Zhu?¡± James asked again, feeling hot tears in the corners of his eyes. He welcomed the sensation, if for no other reason than it would help get the fucking gasoline away from his eyeballs. ¡°Zhu, I really hate this place.¡± James said softly, to no one. In the distance, the mist swirled. On the other side of the footpath, darkness fell, and James saw more houses outlined in the orange glow of streetlights that flicked on as their natural hunting environment began. Somewhere, something pretended to be a car. And all around, a thin breeze brought a sickly floral scent to them, unchanged here on the other side of the street. James leaned on the sledgehammer he¡¯d brought with him, dipping his head to let tears drop to the dirt, before he wiped his nose on his sleeve, regretted it instantly as it was just covered in dried dead algae, and then snorted out a laugh. He was bruised, exhausted, infected with something, couldn¡¯t talk to his friend, trapped, and for some reason, had decided to be responsible for everyone else here. And that last part was all that mattered. He had a job to do. James pushed himself back to his feet, slapped a hopefully determined look on his face, and turned back to the others. ¡°Alright.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ve got more walking to do. Stay off the grass. Also, I¡¯m going to start talking gibberish sooner or later.¡± ¡°What, only just now?¡± Harlan asked, rejoining them and tossing James a magazine. ¡°If I thought you were kidding, you know, we could be good friends.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s get the cart set up, and get moving.¡± Book One + Audiobook Release Normally I just put these things in the author''s notes, but that''s a week away and I wanna talk about this now. As of today, the first book of The Daily Grind is available over on Amazon. You can get it in paperback or ebook, or, if you''re feeling spicy, audiobook. Narrated by Pavi Proczko, who''s also done stuff like Defiance Of The Fall, it''s... I mean, it''s an audiobook! It''s pretty good! I don''t know what to say about it, I''m still kinda reeling from the fact that it got made. Stolen story; please report. If anyone''s interested in picking up a copy, digital or otherwise, please consider taking some time to leave a review. Amazon is... Amazon. You all know how The Algorithm can be. Thanks again to everyone who''s a long time reader, especially commenters, especially patrons. I hope this whole thing lets me keep writing and sharing this story for a while to come. Regular posting will continue unabated, see you on Saturday. Chapter 227 ¡°Stick with Trigger and you¡¯ll make it!¡± -Full Band, Ace Combat 7- ______ James was breathing heavily as he neared the top of the hill, asphalt under his feet feeling just a little bit like it wasn¡¯t fully solid. The others were at the bottom of the hill behind him, in a small loop of the path where there were actual benches to sit on. They were tired. Mauro, tough looking dude that he was, could barely keep walking. And he was the one who wasn¡¯t hurt. Sienna, Zari, and the man who still wouldn¡¯t tell James his fucking name all had bad injuries to legs that made walking for any longer basically untenable, and they only had one cart and a single tiger to pull it. Johns was near collapsing too. Harlan was fine. Harlan had barely blinked through all of this. James didn¡¯t actually know how Harlan was still looking like they¡¯d just walked out of a catalog ad for turtlenecks, but they were, and it left him pretty certain they were lying about only having two forms of magic. Even if it was an unintentional lie, it was still pissing him off. He was in a snappy mood right now, and the fact that Harlan was probably giving him bad information due to their own self-induced amnesia wasn¡¯t exactly fun to think about. Though to be fair, it could just be Harlan¡¯s military grade training in action. Despite being a nominal member of US Air Force, James didn¡¯t actually know what level of physical conditioning your average soldier would be at compared to him. It was probably more than what he had, but less than ¡°stroll through suburban hell¡±, somewhere in between those two sides. ¡°Suburban Hell sounds like a really lame dungeon name.¡± James gasped out between heavy breaths. He was sweaty, and tired, and this hill had an incline that he was pretty sure was magically enforced, and he just wanted to sit down. But he needed to see if there was anything coming from ahead before committing to a real rest. ¡°What do you think?¡± He continued, talking to the air. ¡°Stupid name ranking of, like, three? No higher, because it¡¯s just sorta boring. See, I feel like Sarah had the right of it with Officium Mundi. Bad Latin or whatever that is just sounds punchy.¡± He kept moving, pressing a hand onto the top of his knee as he took the long steps up, making sure not to nail himself with his sledgehammer again. James was also not taking a break because he knew, knew, that once he did, he was out. His Endurance stat was keeping him mobile, and at least viable in any fight that came up, but it was a form of tension that he could not afford to let slacken. He was also talking to himself. Technically, he was maybe thinking of talking to Zhu, but Zhu wasn¡¯t manifested right now. And without a shared medium, the human and the navigator couldn¡¯t really talk. So realistically he was talking to himself. And he was doing so because Aurelio had punched through his infectious aphasia, and claimed that he¡¯d only started feeling better when he¡¯d actually started talking. So James was talking. As much as he could, away from everyone else, because the actual words he was saying were about drinking blood or some crap. Aphasia was fucking terrifying to him, in a way that he was trying not to think about. James could form the words, know exactly what he was going to say, and then open his mouth and have something radically different come out. Or, sometimes, nothing at all. For all that he was a socially anxious introvert, James actually loved talking to people. Loved communicating and sharing, trying to use words to crystalize emotions and ideas, to convince people of his point of view, or to ask questions about theirs. This disease that he¡¯d picked up, which fortunately didn¡¯t come with any associated physical damage, was still nightmarish in just how it took away his connection to other people. And the worst part was that, if he didn¡¯t know it was happening, he wouldn¡¯t have noticed that what he was thinking and what was coming out of his mouth were radically different words. ¡°I like a good two word dungeon name, I think.¡± He kept saying, hoping to shake loose whatever magic virus was in his brain just through drowning it in language. ¡°Fake Latin helps, but, like, I think the key is just words that sounds sparkly. Clutter Ascent isn¡¯t fake Latin, it¡¯s just cool words put together. Man, we should get Sarah to name all our dungeons. Forget this ¡®whoever finds it¡¯ thing.¡± He put another foot forward and hauled himself up the hill, still feeling like terrain was steeper than should have been possible. ¡°All I¡¯ve seen of this place is glowfog and cookie cutter houses, though. So¡­ I dunno, Contaminated Neighborhood?¡± James stopped and caught his breath, looking up at the last twenty feet of walking. ¡°Okay. I got this. Also I¡¯m calling that a rank two bad name.¡± He shook his head. Too wordy. ¡°Also the word neighborhood just makes me think of Mr. Rogers, and I¡¯m not putting that here.¡± His tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he coughed again. Orange juice was something, but it wasn¡¯t exactly as thirst quenching as just plain old water. He was still actually annoyed the cafe hadn¡¯t had any. He was going to have words with their delivery company when they got back. Words like¡­ like¡­ He gave up thinking about it. James was simply too tired to plot petty revenge. It felt like every part of him hurt in a different way. But after he made sure nothing was coming at them from the front, he could go sit. Maybe nap. He could use a nap. ¡°I dunno. I keep saying that! I dunno!¡± He half-heard the words come out different each time. ¡°But what am I supposed to do, know things?¡± James breathed out something that was almost a manic laugh. ¡°I¡¯m trying to name a nightmare from inside it. What the fuck am I doing. I might as well call it¡­¡± He crested the hill, and looked out over the landscape. Ahead of him, the little path wound down the thin strip of trampled grass and dead dirt populated with weeds and blackberry bushes. It vanished out of sight three hundred feet down, where the mist faded away and the darkness came back. But the vista stretched on for what looked like miles. Patches of luminous mist ruining James¡¯ night vision, while in the mostly dark space ahead of him, the orange glow of street lights lit the space like distant fireflies. He could see dozens of them. Hundreds. And he could see a few other paths like this one, crossing like a wobbling grid across each other as they linked up streets. And row after row after row of shillouetted rooftops. Cul de sacs and dead ends and a few places that must be empty lots. House after house after house, either visible as an outline through the mist around them, or as a dark space blocking off a street light. Things moved in that distance, tiny things at this distance, darting between pools of light, or crawling over roofs. But also¡­ James looked down to what must have been five miles away, where something was moving that he could see a little too clearly. It was one of those massive metal towers that held up power lines, though James wasn¡¯t sure exactly what he was seeing for a moment. Electric blue motes danced around its legs, and he could imagine the air vibrating as the wires attached to it as it stepped over one of the empty places. The creature was ten, maybe twenty stories tall, a collection of metal arms that bent at thirty degree angles and formed a thousand triangles. It stepped and lightning bloomed where it planted itself, the thousand power lines it held unconcerned with the change in position. And then something shifted. It felt like it saw him. In a panicked reflex, James toggled the automatic target selection on his bracers on, not capable of sorting through them to do it one at a time. He was just barely quick enough, as something slammed into his mind through his optic cortex. ¡°Slammed¡± might have been the wrong word. It didn¡¯t hit him at all, it simply moved through his vision and into his body, and started electrocuting him. It was only for a half second before his shields snapped up, precious defensive charges consumed in a trio as they blocked the effect, and James rolled backward down the hill, screaming in pain. The cursed lightning stopped as soon as the bracers triggered, but it still left a Lichtenberg scar around his left eye, flaring out around his nose and mouth. The last thing he saw of the distant space as he dropped back and caught himself before he fell was the horizon. Not the horizon below, but the horizon ahead. Where, in the ¡®sky¡¯, another patch of mist and smattering of street lamps was visible at eye level a few miles away. And more silhouettes of houses among it. They weren¡¯t even on the upper level of this neighborhood. ¡°¡­Stratified Underburb.¡± James gasped out, trying to say anything that wasn¡¯t a scream of pain. Surprisingly, his eye didn¡¯t hurt that much. Though he felt like he¡¯d just gotten the worst ice cream headache humanly possible without just detonating his skull. And the lines in his skin itched. ¡°I like that name.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice whispered, a single feather with an inset eye poking off James¡¯ upper arm. James gulped down what felt like a bitter mouthful of adrenaline, and slowly dropped himself to the asphalt, scraping his hands as he sat. ¡°Hey.¡± He muttered. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re alive. Wait, you can understand me?¡± ¡°You are speaking again.¡± Zhu said, sounding almost as tired as James was, a sharp pain in his normally steady voice James let his eyes unfocus as he realized he¡¯d been ignoring the intrusive thoughts that had been inserted into his head about the time he was trying to be murdered by a distant kaiju. [Survivor : Low : +1 Skill Point] [Watcher : Deep : +5 Skill Points] He tilted his head to look at Zhu, and realized that the single orange light feather was smoking. White wisps of physical smoke coming off Zhu¡¯s manifested form. The navigator was slowly building more feathers, but the eye that he¡¯d put together here looked like it was almost cracked, or deflated. ¡°You okay?¡± He asked. ¡°I saw it.¡± Zhu said. ¡°It was¡­ it drew me out. It wanted to be seen. It is a landmark.¡± ¡°Shit.¡± James didn¡¯t know what else to say. ¡°Well, at least we¡¯re going to die with more skill points than anyone else in the world.¡± He coughed, and regretted it instantly as he felt the pressure against the inside of his skull spike. Zhu weakly flickered against him. ¡°Please¡­ don¡¯t.¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± James sighed. ¡°Sorry.¡± He felt all the resistance drain out of him. ¡°We should get back. Do you know where we¡¯re going?¡± ¡°No.¡± Zhu said with a twitch of his slowly manifesting form. ¡°I got us¡­ somewhere safer. This is somewhere safer. Also you smell like a swamp.¡± ¡°I know. I got attacked by a swamp.¡± James wobbled to his feet with a grunt. ¡°Are you sure this is the safer option? We¡¯re in the middle of nowhere, apparently there¡¯s a whole other strata of the dungeon above us, and probably more below, and there¡¯s a literal titan of industry out there that can kill people by being seen.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers hugged against James¡¯ arm while the navigator started forming a line down to manifest a tail. ¡°Safer. Not safe.¡± He thought for a second. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do now.¡± ¡°Me neither.¡± James said. ¡°But we¡¯ll figure something out. Let¡¯s go check on everyone.¡± James made his way back down the hill, knowing he couldn¡¯t take too long to rest before his Endurance would fade. The other humans in the little loop of the path watched him as he approached, a mixture of exhaustion and anxiety in their eyes. Half of them had been crying, which was only fair, given how badly they¡¯d been hurt, and how terrifying this whole place was. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. And then stopped. He didn¡¯t even know where to start with this. None of what he had to say counted as good news, unless he flagrantly lied. ¡°Good news first,¡± he flagrantly lied, ¡°it doesn¡¯t look like there¡¯s anything coming from ahead of us, and I kinda think that anything that tries might die doing it.¡± He cleared his throat, which turned into a set of dry coughs that failed to dislodge whatever felt like it was stuck back there. ¡°Bad news is there¡¯s something ahead that kills things by looking at them. Or by being looked at. It¡¯s a problem.¡± ¡°Is that where the facial tattoo came from?¡± Harlan asked casually, the mercenary amusing themselves flipping a half-empty bottle of apple juice over and over in their hand. ¡°Because you¡¯ve got a¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡± James shut them down. ¡°There¡¯s more bad news. This is¡­ this is it. This is the safer place, that Zhu got us to. Ahead of us¡­¡± How did he even describe it. ¡°This place has layers.¡± James settled on. ¡°And we¡¯re not even on the top one. There¡¯s at least ten miles of samey neighborhood streets in all directions, but if you go up? There¡¯s another neighborhood. I think there¡¯s one below, too. I dunno if there¡¯s more.¡± ¡°¡­this is hell.¡± The quiet man who was sitting on the edge of a bench with his hands wrapped around his bloodied knee said. ¡°We¡¯re already dead, aren¡¯t we? And this is hell. This is what I get for all of it.¡± ¡°First off, no. This is, like, not quite the worst dungeon I¡¯ve been in.¡± James sometimes wished he could turn off the part of his brain that demanded he snark. ¡°Also we¡¯re not dead. And we won¡¯t be.¡± ¡°What are we supposed to do then?!¡± The outburst from Zari came as only a slight surprise. The girl had been holding on pretty well so far, but the pain of having her ankle shredded and the news that they didn¡¯t have a way out pushed her over a very thin line. ¡°You said you¡¯d get us out! You said you could find the exit! I want to go home!¡± She screamed, before her leg twisted under her and she dropped back to the bench, sobbing wildly. ¡°I want to go home¡­¡± James started to step forward, but Harlan¡¯s tiger beat him to it. The big cat, looking perfectly normal and really imposing for something that rolled up to a layer of magical ink on an arm, stepped in close against the bench, and shoved its snout up against Zari¡¯s chest. The thin girl tried to shove the heavy whiskered face away, but the tiger was insistent, lapping at her face with a thick tongue until she eventually relented and wrapped it in a hug. Her body still shook from silent crying, but at least she wasn¡¯t screaming anymore. James sighed as he looked at the others. ¡°She¡¯s not quite wrong.¡± He whispered. ¡°We are gonna die here, aren¡¯t we?¡± Mauro asked, the big man giving him a vacant stare. ¡°No.¡± James said. ¡°But we aren¡¯t out. And that¡¯s a problem.¡± ¡°Kinda sounds like dying¡¯s still on the table.¡± Johns said. He was laying on a coat on the path just in front of one of the benches, eyes closed, but clearly listening. He looked like the kind of guy who had experience napping when he could, though he clearly wasn¡¯t actually sleeping here. ¡°Maybe.¡± James conceded. ¡°But at least here is safer. So we have a chance to¡­ rest, at least. If not just hunker down and wait for rescue.¡± ¡°Rescue from who?!¡± Zari¡¯s voice through the tiger¡¯s orange and white fur got a rumble of protest from the big cat, who shoved against her again. ¡°From the Order, the rest of my people. I don¡¯t know if this place has any time dilation going on, or maybe they just haven¡¯t figured out how to get in yet. I somehow doubt this place has a fucking address on google maps they can look up to teleport to, you know? But, well, Alex knows I¡¯m here. She¡¯ll tell the others. Or the people we sent out will. We¡¯ll have help coming. I trust them. I have to trust them.¡± James whispered the last part before raising his voice again. ¡°Or we rest and recover, and give Zhu a chance to heal up and find us the next step. Or maybe we start raiding houses for magic items and get our own teleporter. I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m not a long term plan kinda guy.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not dead, I¡¯m not giving up.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Dumbass.¡± Harlan snorted. James shot a look their way. ¡°You have a better idea? Wanna just cut your way through on your own?¡± He demanded, tolerance level for Harlan¡¯s bullshit hitting rock bottom. ¡°Harlan, you are obviously the toughest person here, since I¡¯ve been slacking on my magically boosted exercise regimen. Just fucking leave if you think this is a lost cause. Fuck off.¡± He snapped. ¡°Hey, woah.¡± Johns rolled to his feet, holding his hands out between the two of them. Harlan slapped his hand aside. ¡°You think you¡¯re going to save everyone, be a hero, and just walk out of here?¡± They asked James in a dully sarcastic tone. ¡°You think someone¡¯s going to come save us?¡± ¡°More or less.¡± James answered. ¡°And you¡¯re going to help me.¡± ¡°Am I?¡± Harlan sounded actually surprised. ¡°You are.¡± Zhu rumbled. ¡°Harlan.¡± James said, giving up being angry for a moment. ¡°Look in your little notebook. The one you keep scratching stuff in when we¡¯re walking. Look at who you want yourself to be.¡± He glanced over his shoulder, doing a reflexive paranoid check of the area, even though nothing was moving. ¡°You know, my partner, Alanna. She can read people like a book. It¡¯s a magic thing.¡± He met Harlan¡¯s eyes. ¡°She clocked you the first time we sat down. You¡¯re scared.¡± Harlan didn¡¯t wait for James to keep talking. Just pivoted like they were in a military parade, and walked away, putting distance as they started climbing the hill before stopping a good hundred feet away and taking a relaxed watch stance. ¡°Well that went well.¡± Johns said sarcastically. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go talk to them privately.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯ll be on watch. Everyone take a nap or something.¡± ¡°Do you have more of the magic potion?¡± Aurelio asked, hopeful. ¡°Yes. Take a nap.¡± James said, heading after Harlan. Zhu fluttered feathers around James¡¯ shoulder in a silent laugh as he left the others and glared at the hill. Fortunately, Harlan had only gone a short ways up, enough to have a little more of a view, and to be away from everyone else, but not far enough to be away. ¡°Hey. We need to actually talk.¡± James said firmly as he approached. ¡°No we don¡¯t.¡± ¡°Harlan¡­¡± ¡°Stop saying that.¡± ¡°Your name?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James stopped next to them, turning to still be able to talk, but also keeping a view on the people below. ¡°Okay. Well, you, we still need to talk.¡± He paused, and then just stood there, waiting for them to acknowledge that. They didn¡¯t. Instead, James flicked his eyes sideways to see Harlan paging through their little notebook that they¡¯d pulled out of¡­ he¡¯d assumed it was a pocket, but there was real chance that was a tattoo, actually. It took a few minutes. Long enough that James was worried Endurance was going to burn off and he was gonna collapse. But eventually, Harlan spoke again. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to talk.¡± They said, flipping the notebook closed and palming it. ¡°Nothing to say.¡± ¡°Mind if I talk then?¡± James asked, and got an incurious shrug in response. He took a deep breath. ¡°So, back at my home, we¡¯ve got these people called inhabitors.¡± He started on a tangent. ¡°They¡¯re living potions that kill the person who drinks them, and then replaces them. They¡¯re all jam packed with guilt over the process of their creation, which was out of their control, and they don¡¯t¡­ they don¡¯t really get emotions. Yet. Sort of.¡± Harlan was staring at him now, with a look like they were wondering when James was going to get to the point. ¡°See, they know everything about the person they replaced. But they didn¡¯t feel it, didn¡¯t live it. They know what emotions do, but not what they feel like. Basically, they¡¯re a Chinese Room where the guy is frantically trying to learn Chinese before anyone notices.¡± ¡°Is this going somewhere?¡± Harlan asked, annoyed. ¡°There.¡± James pointed at them. ¡°That. That¡¯s what¡¯s so fucking familiar here. You¡­ you¡¯re not some hardened badass, are you? You talk like how a high schooler thinks a hardened badass talks, and I¡¯d know, I¡¯m raising a bunch of those. I¡¯ve been one of those. You kept all your memories about how to fight, how to operate, everything functional, and you don¡¯t know how to process feelings that aren¡¯t combat, do you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a blank slate, paladin.¡± Harlan snorted. ¡°I¡¯m a person. Don¡¯t psychoanalyze me.¡± ¡°I know you¡¯re a person.¡± James said. ¡°Of course you¡¯re a person.¡± Zhu added. ¡°That¡¯s why he¡¯s trying to help you.¡± Harlan¡¯s eyebrows quirked up as they looked down at the navigator. ¡°You¡¯d know, I suppose.¡± ¡°Stop being such a bitch to the one person here who would care if you died.¡± Zhu hissed out like a punctured tire. ¡°Do you know, I can see the outline of your book?¡± Harlan¡¯s eyes turned to flint. ¡°What.¡± ¡°Oh, yes! You¡¯ve written quite the fine map!¡± Zhu shot back. ¡°Not a kind I¡¯d seen before, but there it is. Do you think-¡° ¡°Zhu.¡± James settled a hand on the feathers on his arm. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± ¡°But-!¡° The navigator protested, but James just ran his fingers through their dusty glowing feathers. He looked up at Harlan. ¡°Here¡¯s the gist of it.¡± James said. ¡°Because I¡¯m tired, and I¡¯m not as tough as you, and I need to go sit down before my legs give out. I know you¡¯re scared, I know you¡¯re letting it make you lash out, and you know what? I know who you are. Even if you don¡¯t, I know. Because you¡¯re still here. If you really thought you had a chance, and you were as much of a jackass as you¡¯re acting, you¡¯d be gone. But you¡¯re here, helping.¡± He gave a wolfish grin. ¡°Sorry, you¡¯re a good person. Whether you remember it or not. So stand here and keep watch, and try to figure out why I¡¯m being nice to you, and get angry and stew for a while, and sort your shit out, because even if you¡¯re a good person, you¡¯re freaking everyone out, and you need to quit that shit before you get someone killed.¡± Without hearing another word from the confused mercenary, James stomped back down the hill and over to the group again. ¡°They gonna head off?¡± Johns asked, giving Harlan a nervous look. ¡°No. They¡¯re standing watch. Which reminds me.¡± He pulled the pistol out of his holster. ¡°Okay, you know how to use one of these?¡± He asked Johns. ¡°Uh¡­ no?¡± The EMT stepped back. ¡°Why?¡± James sighed. ¡°The magic keeping me going isn¡¯t gonna last, and I need to sleep.¡± He said. ¡°Soon. I¡¯m gonna collapse as soon as I let it go. Someone needs to take this. So, I guess, who¡¯s least tired?¡± Slowly, from her seat on the slightly battered couch cushion they¡¯d tossed on the cart, Sienna raised her hand. ¡°I¡­ I slept for a while, I guess?¡± ¡°Being unconscious isn¡¯t sleeping.¡± James preempted Johns¡¯ own complaint. ¡°Can you stand? You don¡¯t need to, but you need to be able to.¡± The girl nodded, vigorously bobbing her round face as she put on a serious look. ¡°I can do it.¡± She said. ¡°I¡­ you all¡­ yeah. I can do it.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James crouched in front of her. ¡°This is the safety.¡± He said, pressing the gun into her hands. ¡°If this is on, it won¡¯t fire. Here¡¯s how you eject the magazine, here¡¯s a spare. The spare is full of Harlan¡¯s stupid memory bullets, and they¡¯re all empty, so be careful with those. I don¡¯t know what firing them without loading them does, but maybe Harlan will tell you.¡± He adjusted her grip. ¡°Hold it like this. You¡¯re going to want to keep a tight grip, so that it doesn¡¯t buck in your hands. We can¡¯t really take practice shots, so I can¡¯t get you used to the recoil, but if you keep a solid grip, you¡¯ll be okay. Remember, don¡¯t point it at anything you aren¡¯t ready to kill. Okay?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ heavy.¡± She said, holding it up and adjusting to the grip James had put her in. ¡°You get used to it.¡± James said softly. ¡°No, I mean¡­ not, like, metaphorically.¡± Sienna clarified in a voice that sounded like she wasn¡¯t sure if she should find this funny. ¡°I mean-¡° James felt a grin creep onto his face. ¡°I am also not being metaphorical, though I suppose it is that too. It¡¯s a box of metal designed to contain explosions. It¡¯s got some weight to it. Movies don¡¯t ever really give you a sense for how these things are bricks.¡± ¡°This one¡¯s kinda old, isn¡¯t it?¡± Sienna asked. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s a Walther P38. This one¡¯s almost a hundred years old. Still shoots though.¡± James smiled. ¡°I have an affinity for it.¡± Sienna looked over at his face. ¡°You don¡¯t mean you like the model, do you?¡± ¡°No, this is still literal, and it¡¯s magic.¡± James said. ¡°Now. You good?¡± ¡°Y-yes!¡± She saluted with the gun, and James winced. ¡°Sorry!¡± ¡°Be careful.¡± He said, laying on the asphalt and sliding a backpack full of juice bottles under his head. ¡°I¡¯ll be up in¡­ a little bit.¡± And just like that, he was tired. He didn¡¯t have anything he was heading toward, didn¡¯t have anything he was struggling to survive. And abruptly, his exertions over the week, and the hell of the last day, and all his bruises and cuts and scrapes and infections caught up to him. ¡°Zhu¡­ you¡­ rest too, okay?¡± He muttered, as he closed his eyes. And was out, like a light. _____ Somewhere in a dream, James was playing Tetris. The game was, as far as he could tell, something like a naturally occurring cognitohazard. If you played enough Tetris, your brain started to generate more Tetris. It was a self replicating meme, even if it didn¡¯t have a very long lifespan, and it wasn¡¯t actually alive like Zhu was. Zhu was watching him as he moved office cubicles and halls around. Left turn block, straight hall, square block, one of those jagged side blocks that was part water cooler part low walled cubicle. He hated those. But he was in the flow of Tetris. ¡°Your mind is a mess.¡± Zhu told him. This was a deeper dream; there was no geometry here, aside from the impressions of squares and tetrominos. So it was easy for Zhu to sit over him and watch him while he was inside and facing the cubicles all at the same time. Or, not ¡®easy¡¯, just that it was. Dream logic was fuzzy. A long time ago, James had gotten a skill rank in processing it, but time and experience had left him even better at simply shrugging and letting himself stay asleep. A good chunk of his brain resting while the part that stored this little sliver of his persona kept churning away. James greeted Zhu, a passive pulse of recognition as he kept struggling to make the blocks line up even as the edges frayed to grey nothing and vanished back into chaos as soon as he wasn¡¯t paying attention to them. He let it happen. That was how dreams were, usually. They were solipsistic; only what you knew was real, and a human mind just couldn¡¯t maintain a whole world for very long. Zhu¡¯s wings curled down around James, touching on his arms and stopping him from his frantic arranging of the space. A word like a concerned and questioning warmth flowed out of him, and James let his hands pause for a time. Time meant nothing in dreams. He waited for as long as he needed, as long as he didn¡¯t wake up. Feathers and fingers, limbs and watching curious eyes. James had seen Zhu before. He wasn¡¯t afraid of what the navigator ¡®looked like¡¯ here. He looked up. Zhu¡¯s body was full of holes. He¡¯d grown, dozens of mile long wings and curling arcs of feathers and tails and arms, but the arms were pitted with holes that scattered wet dust fell from. The outlines like road maps where the feathers overlapped each other were looking cracked and uneven. One massive eye, like a painting of the sky, formed the locus of the form, but it was shot through with a series of black lines. The whole left side of it taken up by what looked like a painting of an orbital view of the eastern seaboard at night. The navigator flinched back as James saw him, but James just raised his hands and brought Zhu down into a hug. Holding the damaged infomorph in the swimming environment of the dream as he wondered if he was going to drift off again. The cubicles kept falling, but James stopped arranging them. Let the office blocks fall, and the hallways peel by, and just abandoned the dream to chaos while he held his friend. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He whispered. Zhu didn¡¯t respond. Instead, the rough and feathered imaginary body tensed up. A ripple of anxiety and concern flowing through the dream space, changing it. Motions of walls and floors sped up, the dropping sliding changing patterns becoming frantic, more so than before. ¡°Something¡¯s coming.¡± Zhu said to him. Or maybe to himself. Maybe it was a question, a confusion. How could anything be arriving? The question had an answer James didn¡¯t like. Because sometimes dungeons made infomorphs, and often those informorphs were hostile, whatever form they took. Zhu took offense to that, but couldn¡¯t deny that even his own creation was a form of a self defense mechanism. James could have forced himself awake, but that wouldn¡¯t actually help. Being here, deep down in a dream with the navigator that resided in his mind at his side, it wasn¡¯t real, it was just a reflection. An open channel. Being awake wouldn¡¯t change anything, it would just leave him blind. So he tried to keep the thin corridor between falling potted plants and phones beeping with busy signals intact, and watched as whatever it was came into his mind from the other end of it. It slipped through from inside the water cooler. From above/ahead of James, the water cooler stood at the end of the hall, unaffected by the falling debris of the rest of the collapsing Tetris floor. As it burbled and shifted, a single bubble rose up inside it. And then, instead of popping, the bubble expanded, and a thin green octopus tentacle coiled out of it, suckers attaching to the inside of the tank. But not really. They slipped through, and then were growing around the outside. A hole to nowhere letting through more and more of the thing as the singular flexible limb grew and wrapped around the thing that it had grown from. Zhu flowed around to James¡¯ back, wings wrapping around him like a shield, arms held out like claws. But even as the logic and surface of the dream broke and split open, no attack came. ¡°Wait.¡± James and Zhu whispered at the same time, both of them trailing off, unable to finish the thought before the tentacle turned again, and showed a different scene than James¡¯ own mind through the ring of flesh. Like a gateway to somewhere else, but somewhere that he didn¡¯t recognize. Which wasn¡¯t how dreams worked. If he didn¡¯t recognize it, it wasn¡¯t real. If he didn¡¯t dream it, it wasn¡¯t here. When a teal form streaked with purple burst through the opening, a linear shot of scales and fanged mouths and fins, James wasn¡¯t sure what he was expecting. He was only hanging onto the dream so that he could know what was happening in his head. The shock of this almost knocked him back to either wakefulness or a dreamless unconsciousness. ¡°Found you!¡± Speaky¡¯s voice was tiny compared to their torpedo form, a squeak of exhausted delight as El¡¯s kid nullified the distance within the dream and started spinning fins and fangs around James and Zhu. ¡°Found you, found you, found you! I knew¡­ I could do it! I knew! Planner! Planner I found them!¡± ¡°What¡­¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers shifted end over end in confusion. ¡°Speaky, how are you here?¡± James asked as the dream cracked around them. ¡°You know me, I know you, I just had to cross the gap to your dream!¡± Speaky sounded so pleased with herself. ¡°I jumped! Planner helped!¡± There was a moment of dissonance, and suddenly their form wasn¡¯t there. Speaky was somewhere else, nearby, and wearing half of a mask. Some kind of bomber jacket and skirt combo that James had seen El wear before when they went into the Route. But it was leaking and cracked. Then they were back again, closer, but not touching. ¡°Ooooh¡­ don¡¯t feel good.¡± Speaky shook themself, purple scales glittering. ¡°Okay! Where are you!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± James started to answer But Zhu cut him off almost instantly. ¡°Here.¡± The navigator said, a piece of himself breaking off and folding into a crystallized piece of orange light that he handed to Speaky. ¡°All I can tell you.¡± He said, voice sounding woozy. ¡°Okay.¡± Speaky¡¯s eyes flicked to James. ¡°We¡¯re coming.¡± She said. ¡°I know.¡± James said, heart swelling. ¡°You have to go, you can¡¯t stay here. Speaky, this dungeon can make you sick. You and El, you fucking get medical help when you¡¯re out, okay?¡± ¡°Kay.¡± The young assignment demurred. ¡°Planner can¡¯t hold the bridge. I have to go.¡± Speaky spun circles around a space displaced from the two of them. ¡°I might not be back.¡± ¡°Wait!¡± James said, reaching out. ¡°The bridge¡­ it goes back to El?¡± He asked. ¡°It¡¯s Planner! It goes to a lot of people!¡± Speaky announced. James could feel the wave of cold regret even inside the dream. But he spoke the next words anyway. ¡°Zhu. Take Zhu back with you.¡± He said. ¡°Wh- no!¡± Zhu hissed in shocked anger. ¡°I¡¯ve done this before.¡± James felt the thoughts in the corners of his mind, in the dark places that were blocked off to him, or cut away by some invisible old force. Like scars. But scars he could see the edges of. ¡°Been here before, been this person before. I don¡¯t remember it, but I know.¡± He turned and places his hands on either side of Zhu¡¯s hundred foot wide form. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone else to die for me again. I don¡¯t want another empty scarecrow standing in my mind. You need to get out, before this place kills you. Please. I don¡¯t want you to die. It¡¯s not worth it.¡± Zhu stared at him, like the idea that James might actually care was somehow a surprise to him, for all that he lived in his mind. His feathers folded inward, his eye twitched. The new wounds seeming to force themselves back every time Zhu¡¯s body rearranged itself. ¡°No.¡± He said, simply. ¡°I have to go!¡± Speaky announced. ¡°I can¡¯t stay! Oh, this might have been a bad idea. I have part of Zhu! El says we will find you, and kick your ass! After we save it! Just hold on!¡± Speaky retreated through the nothing space that used to be a dream. There wasn¡¯t much left anymore. ¡°Gotta go!¡± There was a pull, and a twist from the ring of tentacle that Planner might have been. And then the strange part of what James knew was a much larger leviathan blipped out of his mind. He woke up crying. But he didn¡¯t wake up alone. Chapter 228 ¡°Is the nature of what¡¯s real in how it starts or how it feels?¡± -The Stupendium, Open The Sky- _____ James pushed himself up onto his elbows, goosebumps covering his skin at the sudden cold that had dragged him back to wakefulness. He forced his eyes open, ignoring the itchy feeling of small bits of dust or dirt stuck in his eyelashes, and took stock of the situation. It was still quiet around them, though the mist had shifted and the top of the hill that James could see when he tilted his head back was covered in darkness. A pitch black hole in the world where visibility didn¡¯t just get foggy, but outright stopped. Worrying, but Sienna was keeping an eye on it; the girl was fidgeting too much with the gun, but she was keeping her view moving from where she was sitting and probably exhausting herself paying too much attention. Harlan was also still up, and James would be willing to accept it if Harlan said they didn¡¯t sleep. Their coverage was more focused and still, and also felt far more potentially lethal to anything approaching. Then James took stock of his own body, and instantly regretted it. Everything hurt. Some of it more than other bits, but it all blurred together and he couldn¡¯t find any one part of himself that felt okay. His face felt like it had lines of itching fire drawn all around one of his eyes, his nose ached from where he¡¯d slammed into the dirt, his lungs hitched when he tried to breathe too deeply, and there was a worrying scent of smoke even though he couldn¡¯t actually smell anything. One of his calves had been replaced by a massive bruise, the other one had a scabbed over gash he hadn¡¯t even noticed, the skin on his hands was cracked and probably smelled like gunpowder, his forearms were still covered in red marks that hadn¡¯t really healed and threatened to pull open whenever he exerted himself, and the hole in his neck where the anti-cancer purple had plucked an invasive tumor monster out of existence felt like an especially unique form of ache. Also one of his teeth was loose, though he had no idea how that had happened. ¡°It¡¯s not even the tooth with a cavity.¡± Were the first words James said that day, as he considered letting himself drop back to the relatively safe patch of asphalt and his backpack pillow, and see if he could get away with a few more hours of sleep. As he pushed himself farther up to a sitting position, and started poking at his mouth, an orange feathered outline started to creep in around his arm, and then rose off it as a second limb. Then, abruptly, Zhu jabbed him in the cheek. ¡°Awk!¡± James yelped. ¡°Ow! Why?!¡± His startled shout, even though he muffled it, still drew jumpy looks from the survivors around him who were awake. Sienna in particular looked like she was almost about to shoot him. ¡°Zhu, what the fuck?¡± He muttered as he pulled himself up to the bench along with the bag, and started fishing around in it for a bottle of the lease sugary drink he could find. ¡°Also fuck I wish we had water¡­¡± ¡°You asshole.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice was like tires failing to find traction. ¡°Okay I need you to know right now that I only remember maybe a third of what just happened.¡± James said rapidly. ¡°Estimate, obviously. Because dreams are weird. Did we¡­ did Speaky actually show up? Was that real?¡± He knew his voice sounded somewhat desperate, but while he kept quiet, he didn¡¯t hold back from cutting to the point. Zhu¡¯s followup jab came up short. ¡°Oh.¡± He seemed almost disappointed, but he still stopped poking at James, all the verve going out of his manifested feathered limb. The dusty orange glow seemed to dim as he slumped down against James¡¯ flesh. ¡°You said something stupid.¡± He accused. ¡°I believe you.¡± James answered simply. It was partly a lie; he knew exactly what he¡¯d said, and why he¡¯d said it. The surrounding details of the dream were fuzzy, but the words stood out. He took a deep breath, and regretted it as the sickly flavor of the air here seeped into his lungs. ¡°Well, that means¡­¡± ¡°They know where we are. As best I could share.¡± Zhu said. ¡°This stings.¡± ¡°What did you do?¡± James asked, instantly suspicious at how the navigator said those things in context. ¡°¡­Zhu¡­?¡± Zhu helped push James up to his feet with an ethereal feathered tail, the two of them groaning in concert as they rose. ¡°I gave her¡­ where I am, I guess? I looked for it, and found it was part of me, and then I separated it and handed it off. It¡¯s just¡­ where I am.¡± He thought for a second as James braced himself on the strangely mundane wooden bench. ¡°I will need that back, yes.¡± ¡°So they really are coming for us then.¡± James felt the relief like a physical thing. A weight lifted and a warm breeze and a relaxing of tension he didn¡¯t realize he was holding. The the dizziness hit, and he toppled sideways to the asphalt with an abrupt impact that drove a sharp pain into the shoulder he landed on. ¡°Ow.¡± The word came out as a barely coherent drawl. ¡°Oh good.¡± He added as he felt Zhu¡¯s manifested form slump against him. ¡°Shit.¡± James heard the word from someone else, and then a second later saw Johns¡¯ come into his view. He rolled his head to track the EMT as the older man set a hand on his forehead. ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel like a fever. Dizzy, right?¡± ¡°And everything else.¡± James tried to say. ¡°Weren¡¯t you asleep?¡± ¡°Here? Briefly.¡± Johns said. ¡°Don¡¯t try to stand up again.¡± ¡°But I need to stand up.¡± James found his head swimming, but now that he was back down on the delightfully unmoving ground, talking was coming easier. ¡°For a variety of reasons. Including that I want to piss on this entire sub dimension but will settle for a small patch of it.¡± Johns snorted. ¡°Sure. You can do that in half an hour, when you shake this off.¡± ¡°How many people¡­¡± James started to ask. The EMT answered before he finished. ¡°Everyone. Sienna woke me up when it hit her. You need to be awake, and stay down for about half an hour.¡± He glanced over at where the dark mounds of other people sleeping on benches or under piled jackets were still at rest. ¡°Harlan walked it off, because they¡¯re probably not human or something. Mauro¡­ hit his head.¡± ¡°Man, you can¡¯t just say that and-¡° ¡°Concussion. Maybe internal bleeding.¡± Johns¡¯ voice was tight. ¡°The dizziness passes, the blunt force trauma doesn¡¯t go with it. He might be okay, but he might not.¡± ¡°You let me sleep through all this?¡± James demanded. Folding his arms and nervously scratching at his increasingly unkempt facial hair, Johns tilted himself back to rest on his heels. ¡°You needed it.¡± He said. ¡°We all needed it. What¡¯re you gonna do, anyway? Punch out the disease?¡± ¡°He¡¯d try, you know.¡± Zhu said, waving his arm off of James. Johns stared at the navigator¡¯s feathery form with lingering eyes while his mouth twisted into a curve. ¡°What is that, anyway?¡± He asked James. ¡°Are you haunted or something?¡± ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡± Zhu sounded offended, but James could feel the navigator pulse with mild amusement against his scraped and split skin. ¡°You could ask me.¡± ¡°Alright, what are you?¡± Johns sounded less amused than Zhu was. ¡°Because you look like some kind of bird parasite and it¡¯s creepy. Didn¡¯t have much time to think about it earlier, but you¡¯re growing out of this guy¡¯s skin, so¡­¡± James pulled his arm across his chest and rolled away from Johns, taking half of Zhu¡¯s form with him. ¡°Fuck you.¡± He spat out. ¡°You wait until now to do this? Fuck off and let me collect skill points in peace.¡± A pair of hiking books and the legs of damp jeans appeared in James¡¯ line of sight as Johns circled around and sat on the bench he was facing now. ¡°Sorry.¡± The apology sounded hollow. ¡°This place is getting to me.¡± ¡°Yeah, which is probably why you should be calling my friend a parasite.¡± James snapped back. ¡°Since he¡¯s why we¡¯ve got a chance at all.¡± ¡°Too bad I can¡¯t get you selectively lost in the roads.¡± Zhu grumbled. The vitriol from them put Johns on the defensive quickly. ¡°I said I was sorry!¡± He said. James rolled his head just enough that he could angle his eyes up to look at the man¡¯s haggard face. ¡°Man, look. I¡¯m part of a group of anarchist wizards who want to build a brighter utopian future for everyone, and I solve a lot of my problems through just being nice to people. I can forgive a lot. I will forgive that, too. But you¡¯re not really apologizing, and I¡¯m still pissed at you, and my fucking bones hurt, so please just stop ¡®trying¡¯ for the next twenty seven minutes until I have the option to walk away.¡± ¡°¡­sure.¡± Johns said. ¡°Anarchist wizards?¡± ¡°No hierarchies of power that don¡¯t serve an ethically sound and practically useful goal. Also we have magic.¡± He sighed. ¡°Assuming we survive this. I still¡­ I¡¯m freaking out that I just killed half my friends sending them a plague bomb.¡± ¡°I understand. But I think it¡¯ll be okay.¡± Johns unfolded his hands and stared at the red holes on his forearms as he spoke. ¡°Out there, we¡¯ve got antiseptic, saline drips, and, I dunno, water? Your people will be fine. Unless anarchy means you don¡¯t believe in indoor plumbing.¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna fucking bite your ankles.¡± James snorted a half-laugh, catching Johns¡¯ comment for the attempted joke it was. ¡°Anything else happen while I was asleep?¡± He sagged onto his back, Zhu¡¯s tail pushing up between his legs as the two of them stared at the false grey sky. James knew there wasn¡¯t really open air overhead; the light mist covered it up, but there was most likely another layer of dirt and asphalt and whatever else this place was made of. Was it hovering, like a floating island? Or was this a situation where the whole place was just a series of massive caverns, the sides sometimes split open to let delvers get from one to the other. Maybe neither. Maybe it was a structure in truth, like a false indoors, and there were massive stairs around here that could take them up or down. ¡°Are you even listening?¡± Johns said James blinked and snapped his attention back to the other man. ¡°No. I was thinking about stairs.¡± ¡°Everyone¡¯s bites are infected.¡± Johns repeated. ¡°It¡¯s not bad, yet. But¡­ this place.¡± He spoke the last words through gritted teeth. ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± ¡°Yeah. We wait.¡± James said, voice tense. It wasn¡¯t a great answer, but he was going to be honest with everyone. Before he could elaborate, Johns snorted at him. ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s not a plan.¡± ¡°Zhu¡¯s acting as a beacon for our friends.¡± James continued like he hadn¡¯t been interrupted. ¡°This place¡­ well, teleporting into dungeons is usually a pretty bad idea. And here especially. At least for the way we work. There¡¯s no addresses, which makes it really hard to work with.¡± ¡°There are several thousand houses right there.¡± Johns pointed over toward the stained wood of the fence row a few hundred feet away that separated their little spot on a walking trail from more neighborhood. ¡°Wait, do the houses here not have addresses?¡± James nodded at him and Johns gave an annoyed grunt. ¡°I guess I shouldn¡¯t be surprised.¡± He admitted. ¡°So, you can teleport. And you need an address. Why not just make one?¡± ¡°The Order has some tricks.¡± Zhu chimed in. ¡°You may share, if you are less of an asshole.¡± ¡°Man, who taught you to be crass?¡± James chuckled as Zhu answered the question by curling his feathered arm up and poking at James forehead again. ¡°Sure. Anyway, it sort of works. I could draw a specific symbol on the ground and we could use that, but the magic gets really fucking finicky about that sort of thing. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it¡¯ll accept wildly subjective inputs. But not always. And when we¡¯re talking about a place where looking at the wrong thing can kill you, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea.¡± He shrugged, and regretted it as his shirt tugged on the black asphalt he was laying on. ¡°Also we didn¡¯t have time to set up a code, and yeah, that really should have been a standard thing before this. I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± James ignored that Johns hadn¡¯t actually said anything. ¡°If Speaky comes back, I¡¯ll ask.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Oh, they¡¯re a ghost fish that can speak through dreams.¡± James ¡®informed¡¯ him. ¡°They¡¯re a friend of mine¡¯s kid. Very excitable, very-¡° [Survivor : Low : +1 Skill Point] Zhu must have gotten the message at the same time James did, as the navigator started helping them push their way to a collective standing position while Johns rapidly spouted out a ¡°Hey hey hey!¡± And tried to stabilize the two of them. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± James said, lying more flagrantly than he ever had before. ¡°Anyone figure out what to do with skill points while I was sleeping?¡± He asked suddenly. ¡°I was hoping you knew. Thought you went on a dream quest or some crap.¡± Johns eyed him expectantly. ¡°I wanna know what the fuck these things are for¡­¡± James sighed. ¡°Whatever. Get some sleep. I¡¯ll keep an eye on stuff.¡± Johns looked like he still had questions, or concerns, or just like he needed an outlet for the raw panic building behind his eyes. But when James confidently offered him the pillow backpack, the exhausted man slumped and just accepted it, pulling his legs up on the bench and curling in a way that was going to leave his back sore when he woke up. James shook his head at how easily Johns had dropped into unconsciousness. The others were dead asleep too, a whole day of forced march, needed as it was, had left them exhausted. No one had been prepared for this. Still, Johns¡¯ speed from waking to sleeping was impressive, and James wished he could have had that outside of life or death situations. He checked in with Sienna, and then went to find a spot to pee that wouldn¡¯t be a problem. _____ Breakfast was a slightly crushed blueberry muffin that hadn¡¯t been good when the day had started and hadn¡¯t gotten any better. James ate it, washed it down with orange juice that was too sweet, and spent ten minutes staring into space while his brain slowly went through its startup process. Mostly he was trying to figure out how much orange juice he¡¯d have to drink for his enhanced vitamin C processing to have an issue. He didn¡¯t remember the number, only that he had it. He eventually stood with a sigh, hoping that moving would help a bit. He and Zhu were still dizzy, a little, but at least it wasn¡¯t threatening to kick his feet out. With another deep breath, followed by checking the compact pearl of Breath magic that was nestled in his lungs to see how much of that he had access to should he need it, James took a few shaky steps and headed to say hi to Harlan. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you know what skill points are for.¡± He asked rhetorically. Harlan flipped the notebook they were staring at closed, and pulled it back into the palm of their hand, the object melting away into ink and sliding onto their skin. ¡°Nope.¡± They said, which was actually more of an answer than James expected. ¡°You sleep?¡± Was also more conversation than he¡¯d been prepared for. He planted himself on the path next to Harlan, taking a moment to stare off at the slopes of the trail they¡¯d taken to get here. It was all just dirt, with a few patches of untrustworthy grass. No trees or other vegetation; James used to live in a suburb when he was a kid that was worryingly like this, and the analog to this path near his childhood house would have had wetlands all around it. Brambles and reeds and just anything to break up the line of sight. Not this barren line that looked like a scar on the world. ¡°I slept, yeah.¡± He sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve got a rescue coming. Somehow. Eventually.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ good.¡± Harlan said the words like they were uncertain of both their answer, and the language they were speaking. Briefly, they flicked their eyes sideways to take in Zhu¡¯s manifestation, before shooting a glance back at where their own magical tiger was curled up and being used as a living pillow by one of the girls. They didn¡¯t say anything else. ¡°I like to think so.¡± James said in reply to Harlan¡¯s previous words. ¡°Anything going on? You get hit with the dizzy thing?¡± Harlan nodded once, swiping a finger along the edge of their turtleneck. ¡°Walked it off.¡± They answered. ¡°Medic tried to make me sit. Didn¡¯t feel like it.¡± There was something off about their voice that caused James to take a mental step back and evaluate what was going on. A pang of sympathy in his heart pushed him to ask something that he hadn¡¯t thought to actually ask Harlan before. ¡°Ha- um. Are you doing okay?¡± He stopped himself before he repeated their name again. ¡°How would I know?¡± Harlan asked, genuinely curious. ¡°You know, my notebook. It rearranges itself whenever I bring it out. Sorts by what I¡¯m looking for. Indexes.¡± ¡°Convenient.¡± James was a little jealous. ¡°How do I know when I wrote anything?¡± Harlan asked suddenly. ¡°My handwriting changes sometimes, because of course it does. But how do I know?¡± James went silent next to the mercenary. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself before he spoke without thinking. His eyes met Zhu¡¯s damaged one, the two bonded lives sharing a moment of mixed pity and horrified anxiety. It was, James figured, impossible that someone as ruthlessly smart as Harlan, had never asked that question before. ¡°You¡­¡± Harlan ignored him, and just kept talking. Like they were speaking to themselves, and James wasn¡¯t even there. ¡°I think I¡¯ve done this before.¡± They said. ¡°I think every time, I panic. I think I put it into a seed round.¡± Harlan didn¡¯t look at James. Didn¡¯t break eye contact with the artificial horizon as they rolled a nine millimeter bullet between their fingers. ¡°You think so too, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Kinda.¡± James admitted. ¡°Smart.¡± Harlan gave a sharp nod. ¡°You¡¯re smarter than me, I think.¡± James sighed. ¡°You aren¡¯t allowed to have an existential breakdown here.¡± He said sternly. Harlan¡¯s single bark of laughter in response caught him off guard. ¡°What?¡± James asked. ¡°You. Giving me orders.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m the smart one.¡± James said with a hint of a grin. ¡°Look. When we get out of here, I¡¯ll help you with whatever you need, okay? We can sit and talk and you can realize just how fucked everything is and fall apart, okay? But right now, we¡¯re needed.¡± ¡°How do you know?¡± Harlan asked him, open curiosity in their voice that wasn¡¯t there before. Like this was the first time they¡¯d ever had the chance to really ask questions like this. ¡°Can you actually see the future?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯ve just done this before.¡± James answered. ¡°And the breakdown afterward is usually pretty bad. I cry a lot. I-¡° His voice caught in his throat for a second and he felt something hot in the corners of his eyes. Zhu¡¯s tail wrapped around him, offering small comfort. ¡°I¡¯ve got some coping methods. My partners help. Keeping busy being constructive helps. I still have nightmares, and trouble sleeping.¡± Why was he even telling Harlan this, James briefly wondered. But he was talking, and stopping didn¡¯t feel right. ¡°I have, compared to most people, a lot of emotional breakdowns, probably. Though it¡¯s not a contest or anything. But right now, everyone else needs us to look good, so they don¡¯t freak out. Because if they freak out, their chances go down.¡± ¡°I know that much. I¡¯ve got leadership and group tactics locked down.¡± Harlan snorted. ¡°Also your way sounds like shit. ¡®Just be a disaster¡¯? That¡¯s your advice? Are you sure you don¡¯t want any of these?¡± They held out a hand, a magazine appearing in it that they offered to James like it was a candy bar. ¡°I can¡¯t. Won¡¯t, rather.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Aside from getting into the weeds on what it means to be a person, and who ¡®you¡¯ is if you selectively prune memories, I actually just can¡¯t use them without hurting Zhu.¡± ¡°It¡¯s agonizing!¡± Zhu added for effect. ¡°Yeah. So, not an option.¡± Harlan gave the orange wraithlike outline of feathers a look like they were trying to peer through the fabric of reality to some ultimate truth. ¡°Hm.¡± Was all they said. ¡°Okay.¡± ¡°Are you also going to be an asshole again?¡± Zhu snapped out like an engine turning over. ¡°No, just thinking.¡± Harlan said. James nodded. ¡°Good. I can¡¯t be the only smart one.¡± He said. ¡°So, anything moving near us while I napped?¡± ¡°A few of those dog things. I didn¡¯t shoot them.¡± Harlan sounded morose about that. ¡°But if this context is awake, it knows we¡¯re here.¡± ¡°Okay, hold up. That. Explain that, now.¡± James snapped his fingers lightly. ¡°You say context, we say dungeon. I get that. But awake? How do you even know about this, and what does it mean?¡± ¡°Notes.¡± Harlan said like it was obvious. ¡°So, learned it at some point. Wrote it down. Bet it was a good secret weapon.¡± James blinked hard and bit his lip as he let the probably unintentional pun wash over him. ¡°Awake, dozing, dead, empty. Empty ones are theoretical. Dead ones are dead, they get chewed up by the real world, and break down pretty fast, so they¡¯re usually lethal to go into. Dozing is a context on autopilot. It might make monsters or tools, and it can expand, but it¡¯s just working off a script. Awake is bad. Awake will fuck with you. This one probably woke up when we dropped a cafe in its gut.¡± ¡°And now it¡¯ll be hunting us down.¡± James winced. ¡°Cool. So, I¡¯m taking this with a grain of salt the size of Mt. Hood, because let¡¯s face it, your notes are an unreliable narrator. But if that¡¯s true, shouldn¡¯t we be killing anything that sees us?¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± Harlan said with a shrug. ¡°If it matters, it doesn¡¯t matter if we do or not though. What, the context has near omniscience through its troops, but if we kill them fast enough it won¡¯t notice? You¡¯re supposed to be the smart one¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± James tilted his head as Zhu tried to muffle a noise like a laugh. His brain was having a hard time keeping up with the idea of Harlan as this non-antagonistic. ¡°Anyway. We just need to¡­ wait. I guess. And hope the place is asleep.¡± They stood there facing out toward the long strip of asphalt and the endless repeating rows of backyard fences that framed it. James was nervous, still, that something was going to happen. But he was trying his best to just stay calm and keep watch while the others slept. Eventually, Harlan spoke again, unprompted. ¡°Don¡¯t really have anything to cry about.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You said you coped by crying. I don¡¯t do that.¡± James blinked. ¡°Because you¡¯re, what, too tough to cry?¡± He tried not to sound too insulting, even though if that was accurate, he absolutely meant it in an insulting way. Harlan didn¡¯t shrug or shake their head, just kind of answered in the tone of someone who didn¡¯t find the conversation especially important. ¡°Nothing to cry about.¡± They said. ¡°Nothing has ever gone wrong in my life.¡± James and Zhu exchanged a look that said a lot about how little they believed that. ¡°Uh¡­¡± James started to try to say something, and couldn¡¯t find a single word for how bad this was. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Do you understand,¡± Zhu asked slowly, ¡°that everything you just said is like being emotionally assaulted with a series of orange traffic cones and road flares?¡± ¡°No.¡± Harlan said, the word simple and sad. ¡°I don¡¯t. That¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about. Everything is secondhand. People died. Okay, so what? People die all the time. They weren¡¯t close to me. I know I¡¯m supposed to care about kids, I¡¯ve got a note; are these people kids to me? I don¡¯t know how old I am.¡± Their voice wavered ever so slightly, but didn¡¯t crack. ¡°If I hang onto any of this, is this what¡¯s going to happen to me? Getting more frantic, less reliable? I can¡¯t afford that, paladin. I can¡¯t. We can¡¯t, not now, not here.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re freaking out because you¡¯re starting to feel stuff about things that happened to you.¡± James summed up. ¡°Alright. Cool. How in the fuck have you lasted this long as a mercenary?¡± He muttered the last part. ¡°How bout this. You keep your memories intact, because it¡¯s going to make us more effective at working together. And afterward, if you¡¯re bothered, it won¡¯t matter and you can dump ¡®em. I promise to not care.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t-¡° ¡°Also I know you¡¯re out of empty bullets anyway so it isn¡¯t like you have a choice.¡± James added. ¡°You-¡° ¡°I would like to interrupt, and not only because your conversation going nowhere is almost painful to experience.¡± Zhu said suddenly. James bit off a laugh. ¡°You know, asking if you can interrupt is-¡° ¡°Oh, I apologize, I am not asking.¡± Zhu interrupted again, feathers along James¡¯ arm and shoulder rippling in a way that was partly partly and partly painful on his wounds. ¡°I have been¡­ poking around.¡± The navigator said. ¡°We will be here for some time, yes?¡± ¡°As long as it takes the others to come get us.¡± James confirmed. ¡°I mean, unless you can get us out.¡± ¡°No.¡± Zhu confirmed. ¡°But¡­ I believe I can take you to one of the structures, that would be relatively safe to explore.¡± He rotated his eye to move between James and Harlan. ¡°The two of you, specifically.¡± Harlan grunted. ¡°Leaves them unprotected.¡± ¡°Sienna has a gun.¡± James said defensively, and then withered under Harlan¡¯s flat stare. ¡°Okay, fine. We give the gun to Mauro or the other guy who doesn¡¯t have a concussion. Look, I¡¯ve got a magic sledgehammer, I don¡¯t need a pistol. Though I do think we would need to be quick about it.¡± He stopped, and remembered something about how navigators made maps real. ¡°Sorry, Zhu, what¡¯s the cost for this one? Can we know in advance, or is this a rocket fuel thing again?¡± ¡°One personal crisis for you.¡± He said instantly. ¡°I know that you-¡° ¡°Oh perfect, that¡¯s easy then.¡± James said, getting an exasperated sigh from the navigator and giving his friend a smile in exchange. ¡°Harlan, you up for it?¡± ¡°Why?¡± James ticked off reasons on his fingers. ¡°A few things. One, we might learn more about this place. That¡¯s small though. Two, we might find what skill points are for, which is mostly just for me and Zhu, but does help keep us alive. Three, loot. Especially food. We¡¯ve got one backpack of smushed muffins and bagels left, and that¡¯ll last for a couple days if we need it to, but a supply source would be nice. Alternately, since we know this place makes magic items, something else that keeps us alive. And four¡­¡± James looked back at where the others were sleeping, and Sienna was nervously folding her hands around the grip of James¡¯ gun, as she¡¯d been doing for as long as he¡¯d been awake. The girl was shooting them looks when she thought he didn¡¯t notice. ¡°Four. Everyone¡¯s looking at us to save them.¡± He said. ¡°And in a place like this, with how bad it is, how hurt everyone is getting, I think it¡¯s worth worrying about people snapping. If we¡¯re being proactive, it¡¯s¡­ something for them to focus on. It¡¯s not just waiting.¡± ¡°I already agreed with you after two, but nice speech.¡± Harlan said. ¡°Once they wake up?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said. ¡°Gives me a chance to let my magic blood do its work.¡± ¡°¡­Really?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± ¡°I have another reason.¡± Zhu said softly. ¡°I can feel the journey that took us here coming to a close.¡± James frowned deeply. ¡°The one that said this was a safe place.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Oh. That¡¯s much more direct.¡± Harlan looked like they were almost grinning. ¡°We kill everything in the safest building, and move everyone there.¡± Zhu rippled their feathers in agreement. ¡°That seems¡­ best.¡± ¡°You¡¯re allowed to make tactical calls too, dude.¡± James told him. Harlan ignored the moment. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s move out.¡± ¡°Fucking calm down, give me five minutes, I wasn¡¯t kidding about the blood.¡± _____ ¡°I don¡¯t get why we didn¡¯t just take the one that we came through the backyard of.¡± Harlan said as they and James faced a somewhat rickety fence. They were on the opposite side of the fence from the house they were going to tackle, having backtracked along the path to a single curved fork, followed it for a minute, and then been told by Zhu that this was where they were going. The process of leaving the others behind had left James tense and on edge, and there had almost been a shouting match about whether he was abandoning everyone. Leaving his gun behind had helped a little, but not much. Harlan leaving the tiger behind would have helped more if it weren¡¯t for Mauro unhelpfully accusing Harlan of being exactly the kind of cold bastard that would sacrifice a pet to cover their own ass. Harlan hadn¡¯t said anything in their defense, which¡­ well, James wasn¡¯t feeling great about this as they arrived. Especially since the main reason was he¡¯d wanted to help everyone feel like they could trust him. Zhu insisted their little circle of asphalt was safe, though, and James did legitimately think they¡¯d be safer if he could find one or two more magic items. The fence was on the edge of darkness. James had yanked himself up onto it to look over to the other side, and most of the yard was covered in misty light, but everything farther along the path out here was pitch black. It was a tactically stupid spot to stop, and a further reminder that he didn¡¯t have magic night vision. He stopped himself from muttering about magic night vision as Zhu answered Harlan. ¡°Because it wasn¡¯t survivable.¡± The navigator said. ¡°I found you one that you can survive. You¡¯re welcome.¡± ¡°We already killed the entire swimming pool.¡± Harlan protested. ¡°And I can survive more than your boyfriend, you don¡¯t know me.¡± ¡°My¡­ what?¡± Zhu didn¡¯t actually have eyebrows to raise, but got the same effect by shifting an iris of feathers out away from one of his eyes. ¡°No, that is not what is happening here.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Harlan didn¡¯t look that put out. ¡°My notes just say your romantic life is nonstandard.¡± ¡°Mine or Zhu¡¯s?¡± James asked as he pressed a hand to the wood of the fence. Dark with age, it had some give to it. He supposed that the mist here would cause some kind of long term exposure damage to everything, eventually. As he stepped back and took a readying breath, the group heard a car drive by somewhere in the distance. ¡°Wow I wish it would stop doing that.¡± James breathed out. ¡°Yours. Also are we doing this or not?¡± Harlan asked, standing clear and keeping their pistol in a ready grip, muzzle facing the dead dirt of the ground. James nodded, and hefted the sledgehammer he¡¯d brought. ¡°Get ready, if the noise attracts anything.¡± He said. And then flourished the weightless tool, before bringing it around in an explosive motion to crunch through one of the planks. The sledgehammer, weightless to him, still shuddered against his palms as the force of the impact vibrated back when he slammed it through the fence¡¯s support. He yanked the hammer back, and then repeated the motion. He wanted to be precise, but it still took a couple extra hits before he broken the support beams at the top and bottom, and Harlan kicked the section James had gone to town on with a heavy boot, toppling it inward. ¡°Hear anything?¡± James asked. Harlan shook their head, and swept past him, ready to shoot anything that moved. ¡°Alright, well, that¡¯s not an answer¡­¡± He grumbled as he adjusted his grip and followed, keeping an eye out for any loose sticks on the ground. ¡°We¡¯re not dating, are we?¡± Zhu asked in a confused voice as James followed Harlan through the empty dirt of the backyard. ¡°Not the time.¡± James answered, scanning the building ahead of them. It had a back porch, with what was hopefully sturdier wood than he¡¯d just punched through. Two stories, cookie cutter layout, white siding that bubbled with weird little fungal protrusions. It was dark inside, but James could see tattered curtains on all the windows, catching the thin light from the yard. The yard itself was utterly empty. Not even pretending to be normal, like the front yards they¡¯d passed several hundred of on their hike through the dungeon. Just dirt, and an instantly suspicious pile of firewood stacked against the porch. ¡°Are we doing fast or safe?¡± Harlan asked as they eyed the steps of the porch like they were trying to figure out the best way to navigate the terrain, but also keeping in mind that they might need to shoot the terrain. James tapped the sledgehammer on the ground with a few heavy puffs of dirt, still trying to get used to how weird it felt to move this thing, and how dangerous it was if he accidentally pulverized his own foot. He kept sweeping his gaze over the back wall of the building. ¡°Hm. Survivable doesn¡¯t mean easy. Let¡¯s do it safe, though since the cost is a crisis for me I figure I should go first. That way you- shit.¡± James abruptly changed tone as he saw movement from one of the second floor windows. ¡°What?¡± Harlan asked, starting to follow his line of sight. ¡°No, stop. Don¡¯t look.¡± James said, turning his own eyes away. ¡°Actually, wait. Can you hit the window without looking? Second floor, far right.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Came the instant answer. ¡°Alright. Watch me. When I start to move, kill whatever it is.¡± James looked back upward, and was unsurprised to see someone watching him down from the upstairs window. It was a grinning face, looking like it was sketched against the world in white and black, all color draining away around it. It didn¡¯t quite look like static, but the wide, inhuman eyes and the sloughing flesh of the head made it indistinct and hard to pin down where it started and ended compared to the walls and curtains it was peeking through. The kind of face where, if James woke up in the middle of the night and saw it next to his bed, he¡¯d assume he was still in a nightmare. Just looking at it made him feel uneasy, like it was trying to kill him with its eyes alone. Eyes he could get lost in if he wasn¡¯t careful. A pair of gunshots shattered glass, and splattered artificial monochrome flesh. James snapped out of the moment he¡¯d been trapped in, and realized that he was inside just as the thing hit the floor behind him. Not only was he inside, he was sitting on the edge of a bed, on a threadbare blanket. Something was wrong, and as he handed off the sledgehammer to Zhu so he could push himself to his feet, his hands made contact with something bony and light under the blanket. James jolted the rest of the way up, hearing the bare wooden floor creak under his feet. The body of the thing in the window was gone; or maybe it never was. There was a spray of white and black sketched static across a dusty old wall mirror and chest of drawers where Harlan had shot it, and it had absolutely collapsed, but there was nothing left of it. James couldn¡¯t see well enough with just the thin light from outside and Zhu¡¯s glow, so he rapidly fumbled out a phone and flicked the flashlight on. ¡°Hit anything that moves.¡± He told Zhu, sweeping it around the room. Nothing was moving. It was just a bedroom. Old and rotting, wood furniture that bubbled with white fungal bulbs, the place looked like a guest room from his grandma¡¯s old house. Though one that hadn¡¯t been cleaned in a hundred years. Lace was thin and falling apart, paint was peeling. ¡°Paladin!¡± He heard Harlan yell from outside. ¡°You alive?!¡± ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± James called back from the window, not turning his back on the room, not matter how much extra vision range Zhu had. The place made him nervous. ¡°Nice shot.¡± Harlan didn¡¯t comment on James having been teleported inside and upstairs. ¡°You want me to come join you?¡± They didn¡¯t wait for an answer, and instead, broke James¡¯ expectations by pulling their rainbow parrot tattoo out, and sending it up through the window. ¡°Hey.¡± James greeted the glittering bird, which perched on the chest of drawers and tilted its head back. He wasn¡¯t sure if Harlan was going to try to go through the whole house, which would be bad, because they didn¡¯t know if it was clear. But before he could suggest that he just hop out the shattered window and they sweep the place normally, the parrot kept tilting its head back. And back, and back, and back, until it formed a fractal loop of itself; a stretched gap in everything that was too wide and yet still parrot sized. Then Harlan stepped through it, and the parrot snapped back to normal. ¡°What the fuck.¡± James and Zhu said in unison. ¡°What¡¯¡¯s with the corpse?¡± Harlan asked as they unwove their parrot into ink and pulled it back under their turtleneck as a tattoo. ¡°No, hang on. Harlan, what the fuck. You can¡¯t¡­ come on. Come on. Tell me about this shit.¡± Harlan dropped to one knee and started scooping up the dropped bullets James hadn¡¯t noticed. ¡°No.¡± They said. ¡°So, the corpse?¡± ¡°The¡­¡± James swept his light back over to the bed, and winced. The bed wasn¡¯t unoccupied. Dressed in a set of silk blue and white striped pajamas, a partially mummified body lay staring up at the ceiling with empty eye sockets. ¡°Ah¡­. That corpse.¡± James was deeply uncomfortable around death, but at least this one wasn¡¯t looking like a zombie about to attack them. He walked over, keeping the light up, and pulled the blanket down. ¡°Huh.¡± He said. ¡°This guy¡¯s wearing clothes.¡± ¡°They¡¯re called pajamas.¡± Harlan¡¯s voice said, accompanied by the noise of drawers opening behind him. ¡°No, you fucking¡­¡± James took a deep breath, feeling Zhu shuffle against his neck. ¡°The nightwear is, like over normal clothes. Jeans and a sweatshirt, though old. Stains and holes and stuff.¡± The body had its arms folded over its chest, dried and blackened flesh pulled tight against dead bones. One of the arms, though, was obviously damaged; the forearm hanging at a strange angle, like the bone was shattered. ¡°He was killed, then put here.¡± James surmised. ¡°Wait, is this¡­ is this a dungeon construct? Or is this a normal human who got stuck? Zhu, is this why this house?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Zhu said slowly. ¡°He has a map on him though.¡± ¡°A¡­¡± James yanked the blankets the rest of the way off, spotted a shattered knee and twisted leg, but also saw the bulge of a wallet in the worn and faded jeans the body was wearing. ¡°Okay. If there¡¯s spiders in here, I¡¯m screaming.¡± There weren¡¯t. But despite his recent experience, there was something somehow worse about going through an old corpse¡¯s pockets for a wallet than someone who had just died. They had a driver¡¯s license in the wallet, tucked in a pocket with a folded roadmap, but while the name had been seemingly destroyed, James still managed to get a vital piece of information from it; the style was at least two generations old. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever picked up a skill rank in drivers license templating, but he had a pretty solid guess that this one was from the sixties. Also from Maine. That last part didn¡¯t mean much, though since he¡¯d been teleported into this place, the dungeon could be anywhere, and Maine was as good a place as any. Still in the US, which was sort of statistically unlikely. The wallet also had eighty bucks in old style twenties, which James was pretty sure were real. He turned to share with Harlan, and found the mercenary dumping shredded clothing and decayed pillow cases out of the drawers and onto the floor. ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡± He asked. ¡°Looking for anything useful. Contexts make the good stuff durable. This stuff is just props.¡± Harlan said. ¡°Okay, first off, that¡¯s absolutely not true. Even just here, look.¡± he held up his arm, and by association Zhu¡¯s, and tried not to think about how Zhu could be holding the hammer that was weightless for the wielded but no one else when Zhu was attached to him. ¡°This thing has paint scraping off and a partially splintered handle. This place enchants crap, proveably.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Harlan said without infliction. ¡°Okay.¡± They switched to pulling out old hairbrushes and other cosmetic tools from another drawer, and facing the window while taking a few random swings with each of them, before discarding the items to the pile. James wanted to scowl, but held it back. Harlan¡¯s approach wasn¡¯t bad, just rapid and uninterested in any kind of detail tools they might find. Which, well, maybe they didn¡¯t need a scarf that made you good at expressionist painting right now. So it was hard to fault the approach. He took the dresser while Harlan kept up their own ransacking. The house was quiet, the rotting wood of the door wouldn¡¯t muffle the sounds of anything approaching. In fact, it was the silence that made James most nervous. Homes weren¡¯t silent. Buildings creaked and shifted, appliances hummed, pipes could be heard through the walls. Here, there was just¡­ nothing. This was something shaped like a house, but more like an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. Except it wasn¡¯t abandoned, and that silence couldn¡¯t be trusted. The dresser had socks that were thinner and more full of holes than the worst pair that James owned, which was saying something. He moved carefully, checking for traps just in case. This was a dungeon. He was two drawers down and expecting this was going to be nothing, when he found something weird. Tucked in the back of a drawer behind a stack of tattered boxers, was a surprisingly colorful cardboard box of playing cards. He pulled it out, and held it in his fingers, looking at it like he might somehow be able to sense if it was magic. He couldn¡¯t, though. His weird sense of dungeon items seemed to work best on the Office, which might just be confirmation bias. Still, this one was odd enough that he pocketed it anyway. ¡°Okay, you find anything?¡± He asked Harlan. ¡°No. Also¡­¡± Harlan was staring out the window. ¡°I should tell you.¡± They said, like they were declaring the decision to themself. ¡°Yeah. Kill notifications.¡± ¡°For the window skulker?¡± ¡°No. For my guys outside.¡± Harlan held out their hand like they were reading off the back of their fingers. ¡°Nine kills, two deaths. Something¡¯s happening. Someone¡¯s taking out my people.¡± ¡°Shit.¡± James let out a tired snort. ¡°We can¡¯t do anything about it.¡± ¡°No. But I¡¯m telling you anyway. I won¡¯t be sticking around when you¡¯re people pull us out.¡± He nodded. ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯m giving you a phone though.¡± James told them. ¡°Let¡¯s clear the other rooms up here, then hit the kitchen. Magic knives, maybe.¡± The other bedroom had two more bodies on a king sized bed, one of which also had an old ID, and both of them had injuries from before their untimely deaths. Still nothing attacked them, nothing made James feel sick, nothing exploded. He was really, really hoping the personal crisis had been letting himself get teleported inside twenty minutes ago. But he couldn¡¯t promise himself that, and Zhu literally couldn¡¯t confirm it, so he was on edge as they searched the place. There was a smoking jacket hanging in the room¡¯s closet, which James had reluctantly taken. He¡¯d lost his own coat at the start of this, and he was actually kinda cold, but he didn¡¯t expect this one to protect him much. If he was lucky, it would do something wizardly. When they got through with the room and went to check the bathroom, they were all starting to get frustrated by how placid the environment seemed. ¡°I legit expected this place to try to kill us.¡± James said as he carefully opened the cabinet under the sink. Harlan was standing by the far wall, looking out of the small frosted glass window over the toilet, checking the street in front of the house as James quickly slammed the cabinet shut before the weird mushroom growths under it could prove to be dangerous. ¡°Well, unless you want a toothbrush, or a shitty shower, I don¡¯t think¡­ what are you doing?¡± He asked Harlan. ¡°Making notes.¡± Harlan said, not looking up from their magical tattoo notepad. ¡°Whoever I am in the future can make use of what I got off you.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± James leaned over the bathtub, looking for¡­ well, anything, really. He didn¡¯t find it. The showerhead was dripping water, though, tinted red with rust. The bathtub wasn¡¯t filling up though, despite being stopped up, which was odd. He kept talking to Harlan idly as he knelt. ¡°On the one hand, I think your constant self-oblivation is kinda awful. But it¡¯s also, like, weirdly optimistic of you to help a version of you that you¡¯ll never know.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an expression of faith in who I know I can be.¡± Harlan nodded, snapping their notebook closed. ¡°You might even understand. The notes on you are sparse, but you keep acting like a good person, so I may as well trust you.¡± James hummed again, and reached down toward the bottom of the bathtub. His hand was barely above the rim of it when Zhu suddenly bristled. ¡°Wait-!¡± The navigator started to yell. But James was already in motion. And suddenly, he wasn¡¯t touching the empty space in the tub, but the water it was full of. His eyes widened as, almost in slow motion, he saw ripples expand on the overful surface of the tub. And then they kept ripping, expanding. The water, so still it had been transparent, ballooned outward like it was exploding. For a second that went on for a very long time, James watched as the liquid that had been compressed into something unnatural unfurled itself. Then he was slammed back into the sink and its cabinets. A shattering sounded and was quickly muffled by the water as Zhu lost his grip on the hammer and it annihilated the mirror behind them. James found himself gasping as the air was punched out of him, but the reflex just had him breathing stagnant water that was still rushing past to fill the room and shoving him constantly back against the wall. A muffled thump announced a gunshot, and then another, as Harlan blew out another of the house¡¯s windows. James started to get dragged along the floor in the current as the water poured out the bathroom door, but he grabbed onto cabinet handles, his grip reinforced by Zhu¡¯s hand, and held his breath as the water kept rushing around them. His lungs burned, but this time, he wasn¡¯t being choked to death by something alive. This was just water, and if he could hold on long enough, he¡¯d get to breathe again. With two holes, even if one was kinda small, the flood quickly poured out of the room. James tried to breathe, but found himself unable to make the process work. It took three tries, and an increasing fuzziness at the edges of his vision, before he coughed up the water he¡¯d sucked down, and pulled in fresh air. Next to him, Harlan pulled themself out from the space behind the toilet where they¡¯d been slapped down by the wave, similarly coughing. James stood, and realized he was getting too good at walking off having the crap kicked out of him. ¡°You good?¡± He wheezed at Harlan. But he got no answer. ¡°Zhu, you okay?¡± He coughed. ¡°I¡¯m alive.¡± Zhu said. ¡°Ow. I might need to sleep again. Ow. Why do you bother with a body when it feels like this all the time?¡± ¡°Verisimilitude.¡± James answered, partially stuttering the word. ¡°Harlan. Hey. You alive there?¡± He started to reach out for them, when the mercenary slowly raised their head from staring at their empty hand. ¡°Gone.¡± They said. ¡°What?¡± Harlan gave James an empty, lost look. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡± James pulled his new coat off and started wringing water out of it. Everything he had on was soaked. His hair was soaked. Again. He¡¯d only just gotten¡­ well, marginally less damp. And the worst part was, it all smelled like rust. Shaking out the smoking jacket, he grimaced. The pack of cards in the pocket would be melted by the¡­ his brain made the connection. ¡°Your notes.¡± He said suddenly. ¡°Gone.¡± Harlan said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t done checking it. I¡­ I¡­¡± the were shaking, standing there unmoving while they dripped into the two inches of water still covering the floor. ¡°I¡­ what¡­ do I¡­ it¡¯s gone.¡± Their words were getting more frantic. ¡°Hey¡­¡± James started to say, reaching out for them. Harlan moved like a snake, slapping their hand away and leveling their gun at James¡¯ face. ¡°It¡¯s gone!¡± They screamed, eyes wild. The manic expression rapidly gave way to something searching, looking for anything in James¡¯ own terrified eyes. ¡°Who are you? Really? Was this what you wanted? Was this your play?!¡± Slowly, James held his hands up. There was something deeply terrifying about having a gun pointed at you. Mentally, he directed one of his shield bracers to block nine millimeter rounds, just in case, but if Harlan was using their weird memory bullets it wouldn¡¯t keep him alive. He was one frantic trigger pull from death, and Harlan¡¯s stability had vanished with their notebook. ¡°We¡¯ve been talking this whole time.¡± James said slowly. ¡°You know who I am.¡± ¡°A name, a rank, you must be looking for something because memories of you got me seeker bullets.¡± Ah, that was how they¡¯d hit the window while shoved into the wall underneath the window. Their words weren¡¯t calming down though. ¡°Everything¡¯s gone! Where are the others!?¡± ¡°The¡­ we left everyone about a quarter mile away. Along with your tiger. You remember your tiger, right?¡± James desperately tried to keep his voice from wavering, but he was freaking out. This was not how this was supposed to go. ¡°Tiger. Right. Tattoo.¡± Harlan nodded, the gun dipping slightly. ¡°Are you a target? What¡¯s with the bird arm?¡± They demanded suddenly. Zhu shivered along James¡¯ arm. ¡°Oh no.¡± The navigator said. ¡°They don¡¯t remember us at all.¡± They didn¡¯t. For whatever reason, perhaps in a moment of panic, they¡¯d burned away every memory of James and Zhu into their bullets. Maybe Harlan was used to fighting living things, and had thought the water was hostile and in need of killing, maybe it was just a reflex. It didn¡¯t matter. Because in that same moment, their notes were lost to them. And in James¡¯ head, a sudden dark impulse started to form. ¡°Oh.¡± He muttered. ¡°This is what you meant.¡± Zhu had said he¡¯d have a crisis. Not a mishap or an injury or a getting-shot-by-Harlan. This was about something that he¡¯d have to make a choice on. And, suddenly, he saw a choice in front of him. And it was one he hated. The violent person in front of him hadn¡¯t been especially stable to begin with, but now, they were one step from plunging off an emotional cliff. James absolutely didn¡¯t want to fight Harlan, but he also didn¡¯t want them to leave. Like it or not, their group needed the extra protection. And, though he didn¡¯t like it, he had an idea. A really, really shitty idea. The kind of idea that made him feel like an utter bastard just for coming up with it. But, while he could try to talk Harlan down, calm explanations didn¡¯t always work on people pointing guns at him. Unless, of course, he cheated. ¡°Speak up!¡± Harlan snapped, stepping forward and leveling the barrel of their gun at James¡¯ forehead. ¡°You¡¯re a dead man anyway, but if you tell me what I want to know, I¡¯ll-¡° They were interrupted by the cruelest words James had ever spoken. ¡°I¡¯m your backup.¡± He said quietly. Harlan froze, head tilting ever so slightly, eyes widening as the snarl on their face froze. ¡°What?¡± James lowered his arms, moving as casually as he could force himself to as he yanked the sledgehammer out of the mirror and gently set it against the wall just outside the bathroom¡¯s door, which was now hanging precariously by a single hinge. ¡°Your backup. You keep notes, but that¡¯s not good enough. Because¡­¡± he waved a hand at Harlan. ¡°So you have backups. Because sometimes you¡¯re not stupid. It¡¯s an expression of faith in the future.¡± He echoed their words back. ¡°You expect me to believe that?¡± Harlan snapped. ¡°I only know your name.¡± ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s usually what you leave yourself with.¡± James lied, feeling a pit open in his chest. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t know everything, but I can get you up to speed.¡± Harlan looked like they were trying to decide if they should shoot James or not. ¡°What¡¯s my name?¡± They demanded. ¡°No idea.¡± James answered instantly. ¡°It¡¯s Harlan.¡± Harlan narrowed their eyes. James gave them a soft frown, eyes sad without needing to act the part this time. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°It really isn¡¯t.¡± Harlan stared him down, and then, abruptly, slumped their shoulders and dropped the gun to their side. They made a noise that was something like a strangled sob. ¡°It¡¯s all gone.¡± They said again. ¡°I know.¡± James said. ¡°But right now, we need to get out of here.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Harlan nodded. ¡°Right. Yes. The context. I¡¯m not an idiot.¡± They glanced at Zhu again. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Hi.¡± Zhu said. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ a friend.¡± Harlan frowned. ¡°That seems like a lie.¡± ¡°Yes. I dislike you.¡± Zhu said. James pulled Zhu out of Harlan¡¯s sight for a second as he flipped the waterlogged coat over his shoulders and slipped it on. ¡°Banter later.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s go check the kitchen, make sure the gunfire didn¡¯t attract anything that wants to kill us, then¡­ ow.¡± He paused as he brushed his ear and noticed it was bleeding. ¡°Okay, that sucks. Then we head back.¡± He sighed as he felt the lump of the deck of cards in the coat¡¯s pocket, and went to pull out what was probably a sodden lump of paper at this point. But when his hand dipped into the pocket, it met something else. With a confused look, he pulled the object out, and found he was holding a rock. A crystal, really. Cut like a trapezoid, clean edges and glittering facets, a golden color like an agate. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Harlan asked. James rolled it over in his fingers. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He said. But as he started to feel a pull from it, as the stone began to quietly but insistently ask him how many skill points he wished to give it, he felt a sense of relief. ¡°But I think it¡¯ll help.¡± James drew his eyes back up. ¡°Okay. You remember why we¡¯re here? Clear the building, make it safe for a group of survivors about a half kilometer from here. We¡¯ve got one side covered. Let¡¯s got raid the kitchen.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Harlan said. ¡°Yeah. Okay.¡± They took a few splashing steps past James through the bathroom¡¯s ruined door. ¡°You can wring out your turtleneck you know.¡± He said, hearing them squish as they walked past. ¡°Might help.¡± Harlan snorted. ¡°Sure.¡± They said, the walls coming back up. The professional front, the tactical view of the world. ¡°Let¡¯s go. I¡¯ll have questions when we¡¯re clear.¡± James nodded, and the two of them got back to work. They had a whole kitchen to clear out before they could bring anyone back here. Chapter 229 ¡°Think out your plan like a woman of action. Then act out your plan like a woman of thought¡± -Carmen Sandiago, Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego?- _____ JP adjusted the cuffs of his shirt for the millionth time, pacing back and forth behind Ben¡¯s desk. ¡°They¡¯re late.¡± ¡°They¡¯re not late.¡± Ben said without looking up. He was reading an old paperback, and seemed totally comfortable with the prospect of patience. JP almost diverted his thoughts to wonder if that was because Ben was from a dungeon made out of a mountain, or if that was just Ben trying to infuriate him. ¡°They checked in. They¡¯ll check in again afterward, or if they need us.¡± ¡°We should be on call for this.¡± JP sniped back. ¡°We have the stupid skulljacks, it wouldn¡¯t be hard. Fuck, they could just be wearing earpieces.¡± Ben turned a page. ¡°You don¡¯t use your skulljack, I don¡¯t have one, and while we could have just used, I dunno, normal radios or something, you know how much that distracts James on these things.¡± ¡°I do.¡± JP grimaced, stopping his pacing behind Ben to fold his arms and stare at the far wall of the warehouse. ¡°You don¡¯t have a skulljack?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not human, and don¡¯t want to risk it.¡± ¡°All the camracondas have skulljacks.¡± JP pointed out. Ben turned another page, his reading speed slowed somewhat with JP talking at him. ¡°I¡¯m not a camraconda either.¡± ¡°You¡¯re infuriating is what you are.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°We should call them.¡± ¡°Nope. Let James work. He¡¯s¡­¡± Ben trailed off, tilted his paperback down, and looked over his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t you have something to be doing that isn¡¯t this?¡± JP tugged at the collar of his shirt as he refrained from sighing. ¡°Not really. Increased specialization and trust means that I don¡¯t need to know whatever Karen¡¯s worried about right now, or how dangerous our space elevator is. Harvey and I have a talk with our civilian oversight board later to talk about the ethics of hacking street cameras, but that¡¯s later. It¡¯s¡­ what, three?¡± ¡°Close to it, yes. Which is why it¡¯s fine that they¡¯re taking their time. Harlan showing up when it¡¯s not under the mysterious shadow of night is novel enough.¡± Another scratch of old paper as a page was flipped. ¡°I understand that you¡¯re nervous, but-¡° ¡°I¡¯m not nervous, I¡¯m irate.¡± JP corrected, nodding at a pair of Response members who had come in to pin a request for some esoteric and probably magic tool to the big board they kept back here. ¡°I don¡¯t care, man.¡± Ben sighed. ¡°If we want to solve this problem, we should just recruit and train up more people. Which takes time, and money, and also people.¡± JP frowned and glanced at his phone, scrolling through a mile long list of messages he hadn¡¯t acknowledged. ¡°Didn¡¯t we just hire a batch of people?¡± He shook his head as he ran through the thought. ¡°Though I suppose they wouldn¡¯t be trained, or useful, and we don¡¯t want to trust anyone with magic that might be a secret serial killer or something. Hm. You know what, we should recruit more camracondas. Everyone loves the camracondas.¡± The comment got an eye roll from Ben, who was about to say something about how offensive that came across to him, when he was interrupted by a pop of air. Alex hit the floor on her hands and knees, not bothering to go through the technically proper process of hitting the teleporter landing platforms and instead intentionally popping back into the converted warehouse space. Her fingertips were still numb, and she felt like she could barely breathe, but the aftereffects of using too much Breath at once were starting to fade. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t have time to go ask to use the weird Status Quo crown thing that would let her reoxygenate her blood with what was left of her stored Breath. That was, in fact, one of the farthest things from her mind as she toppled off balance onto her side and crashed into a desk, sliding the heavy metal furniture several inches out of alignment and causing a chain reaction of spilled pens. ¡°Hey!¡± Alex croaked out the word as everyone nearby scrambled to react to her entrance. She might have passed out for a second, because the next thing she realized, there was a red haired woman half-wearing one of the Order¡¯s semi-custom sets of armor supporting her with one hand, checking her pulse with the other, and doing something that drew Alex¡¯s eyes to focus with a third pseudo-limb of green geometric light. ¡°No concussion, looks like she blacked out from oxygen deprivation. Murdau says she¡¯s awake. Hey, Alex, you with us?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± Alex wheezed, taking a deep breath and looking around at where JP and Ben were hovering nearby. ¡°Overdid a thing. Fuck, my head. What¡­ wait, fuck! James!¡± ¡°Here.¡± The woman stood and offered her a hand, helped up herself by the camraconda sitting nearby that Alex recognized as one of the people who helped out in the kitchens a lot. Alex took the hand and stumbled to her feet. ¡°James is gone.¡± She felt like the words weren¡¯t real. ¡°What the fuck happened?!¡± JP demanded, a dozen cryptically patterned instances of Planner¡¯s tentacles radiating out from behind his head and back. ¡°Did Harlan fuck us? Where¡¯s James?¡± ¡°No¡­ Harlan was fine. Someone¡­ he¡¯s¡­¡± Alex suddenly didn¡¯t know what to say. What had happened? Everything was going wrong, and she didn¡¯t know¡­ At a nod from Ben, the red haired woman steered her to a chair and had her sit. Alex set her hands on the flat surface, something reassuring about how solid it was. ¡°Thanks Ann.¡± Ben said softly as he sat across from her. ¡°Alex. I¡¯m gonna ask you some questions. Can you answer for me?¡± ¡°Sure, we¡¯re friends.¡± Alex said, instantly calming slightly now that someone she was close with was here. Ben nodded, and for Alex it wasn¡¯t hard to understand why he had a pained look in his eyes. Everything was falling apart. ¡°Okay. Where is James?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Alex said. ¡°The cafe is gone.¡± ¡°Start from the beginning.¡± Ben didn¡¯t let himself get sidetracked. ¡°You met with Harlan?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°What went wrong?¡± Alex kept her breathing steady. Something was off, but she was starting to feel a lot more steady. It only took her a second to sort her memories. ¡°Someone came in. I think they were trying to kill Harlan. They had a magic¡­ bomb, I guess. We were just about to telepad out, when it got set off.¡± Alex stared at the backs of her hands, and saw that one of them had a slash across it from where she¡¯d hit the torn concrete. ¡°I used my Climb spell, tried to put myself between James and the blast. Everything got bright, and then it was just me, in the foundation of the cafe. The whole building is gone.¡± JP snapped, pointing at Ann and Knife-In-Fangs. ¡°Go.¡± He ordered, and the two of them nodded instantly, the camraconda already in the process of helping Ann attach the rest of her armor properly. ¡°Intel and anything in the rubble. Don¡¯t fuck around when the police show up. Look for a body.¡± ¡°It smelled like blood.¡± Alex whispered. Then cleared her throat, and spoke up. ¡°But I didn¡¯t see any bodies. It was like the place got scooped out.¡± She focused on Ben¡¯s face, her friend sitting across from her, making rapid notes as she talked. Ben, who she¡¯d known for so long. It was weird; he was so good at keeping her calm in situations like this. Had they dated once? How had she never¡­ ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± Alex asked, slowly recoiling, reaching with a deliberate but slow hand for her concealed pistol. JP tapped Ben on the head with the flat of his hand, and he got a wide eyed look, before suddenly Alex didn¡¯t know him that well anymore. He was just Ben, the new guy in their rogue division, who wasn¡¯t¡­human. ¡°Sorry. Shit, I¡¯m so sorry.¡± He said, looking away from her, and almost rushing to leave. ¡°No, wait!¡± Alex might have sounded more frantic than she meant to, and Ben froze. ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. Thanks. I¡¯m good. Just caught me off guard. It¡¯s okay.¡± She sighed. ¡°That¡¯s really useful. It¡¯s okay.¡± JP paced back and forth behind where Ben slowly settled back into his chair, phone to his ear. As Alex finished talking, he lowered the electronic, calmly pushed a button, and then got a look on his face like he was considering pitching it into the wall at high speed. ¡°Where the fuck is Nate?!¡± He demanded. ¡°Indiana.¡± Ben answered without hesitation. ¡°Still. It¡¯s been two hours, stop being so impatient.¡± ¡°Well he¡¯s not answering his phone!¡± ¡°That¡¯s bad.¡± Alex said, then looked over to meet Ben¡¯s eyes. ¡°Right? That¡¯s bad, right? Like, that¡¯s literally why you sent us out, he was checking on other people who were out of contact?¡± ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s bad.¡± JP sighed. ¡°Okay. James is missing, and-¡° ¡°He might be dead.¡± Ben¡¯s voice was like a knife. JP glared at him with a sudden ferocity, but Ben just met his gaze. ¡°He might be dead.¡± The mimic said more forcefully. ¡°If not, good. But you can¡¯t make assumptions. Not now.¡± He turned his head back while JP continued to aim a glower at the back of his skull. ¡°Was there anything else you can remember? Details?¡± He asked Alex, this time without the enforced friendship. Alex glanced up as the air conditioning of the building kicked in and started making a whirring noise in vents overhead, and by the time she looked back down, JP had sprinted out of the room in search of something or someone. ¡°Uh, yeah. Harlan said they were familiar with the person. Didn¡¯t remember them, though. Oh, they were answering questions, before we got¡­ yeah. No reaction to the question on the pillars, it looks like the people they know can¡¯t actually find us as a group even though they know about James, uh¡­ there was something¡­ oh!¡± Alex rapped her knuckles on the table. ¡°They were talking like there were other groups like Status Quo! But also like they get killed off a lot? It was weird. Also they did two of the shootings in New York. Uh, Harlan did. They didn¡¯t care. They¡¯re fucking creepy.¡± Alex focused on breathing again as Ben rapidly transferred everything she¡¯d said to a whiteboard he¡¯d dragged over and wiped clean. For a little bit, the warehouse was quiet as it was just Ben asking her slight clarifications or pressing for more details, and background white noise. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen now?¡± Alex asked suddenly. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Ben said, his back to her as the pen he was holding squeaked a blocked off line between ¡°Harlan¡± and ¡°pillars¡± on the board. Alex started fidgeting with one of the mechanisms on a clipboard that was sitting on the desk. ¡°I mean¡­ what happens, if James is gone?¡± Ben stopped, and let his arm fall to his side, not turning away from the whiteboard. ¡°Then¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± He said in a soft murmur. ¡°Let¡¯s hope that¡¯s not what¡¯s happening.¡± He turned along with Alex as the noise of the door caught their attention, and a pair of women walked in. Well, one woman, two bodies. ¡°JP told me to get in here and get ready?¡± Marlea said. ¡°Is something going on?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll fill you in.¡± Ben said with a professional nod to the hive mind, then looked between them to the door, where another cluster of people had just entered. ¡°As soon as they get over here.¡± While he did that, Alex went through the mental process with her skulljack to connect to the local network and check the Order¡¯s message service. It looked like Marlea was updating a channel for this crisis in real time, so she didn¡¯t have much to add, but as Ben kept explaining to the others what was going on, a general alert caught her attention. She and Marlea jolted at the same time, as did Charlie who was the other heavy skulljack user in the growing group JP was sending to the warehouse from people he was dragging away from other things. ¡°Uh, guys?¡± Alex spoke before the others It wasn¡¯t that Alex was an antisocial person or anything, but it was a little weird when a whole group turned their attention on you instantly. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Ben asked her. Alex double checked the message, and then tapped her neck in the commonly used signal to indicate where she was getting this from. ¡°Six people just teleported into our landing platform.¡± And then, realizing that was vague, clarified. ¡°Six people who aren¡¯t Order members. They had what¡¯s left of a telepad, and from the pictures, I hundred percent recognize one of them from the cafe.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Ben¡¯s voice didn¡¯t really change, but something about the mood shifted. ¡°Shifting objective. Our goal is now to find, and bail out a one James Lyle. Let¡¯s hear some ideas.¡± _____ Deb was sitting around a small circular table with Lua, who was reprising her role as Order talk therapist, and Ishah, who was still a ratroach for the time being. They were talking; technically with an objective, but since part of that objective was making Ishah feel comfortable, the conversation was languid and relaxed. Strangely, Deb didn¡¯t mind. This was still part of patient care, after all, but it was also a chance for her to take a break. To just move slower as a person, even if she was still trying to help someone redesign their body from the ground up. ¡°And presenting as male has been feeling better for you?¡± Lua asked with a smile, that Deb found herself matching as they listened to Ishah speak. The ratroach nodded slowly; he¡¯d been too enthusiastic once and snapped some of his own chitin. The unmodified ratroaches, the ones that hadn¡¯t been repeatedly exposed to the shaper substance in the Akashic Sewer like Arrush and Keeka were, they were far too fragile for Deb¡¯s liking. ¡°Better, better, yes.¡± He chittered out. ¡°Safer. I feel. Safer. It was good idea.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Deb said with a tight smile. The topic at hand was hard for her, and she was resisting the urge to bury herself checking updates on her phone instead of listening. But this was important, and she needed to be present. ¡°How¡¯re you thinking about biologically transitioning, with the full reshaping?¡± The ratroach hissed slightly, ducking his head and idly tugging at the antenna that stuck out the back of his furred neck with his extra hand, while his primary two claws remained clasped on the table. ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡± He said eventually. ¡°Changes. Big changes are scary. But¡­¡± he shrugged. ¡°What is happening has been wonderful. So maybe more big changes will be even more as so.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t know, it¡¯s important to not commit to things you don¡¯t actively want to.¡± Lua pointed out in a calm but firm tone. ¡°I would say that changing out of fear is not something that you will feel happy with, long term.¡± Ishah started to shrink back into his chair at the comment, before Deb slowly reached over, made eye contact with one of the ratroach¡¯s offset beady black eyes, and took one of his claws in her own hand. Ishah squeezed twice, chitin and short bristly fur warm against Deb¡¯s palm, an indication that she should say something. Deb glanced back at Lua. ¡°Ratroaches don¡¯t think in long term.¡± She reminded the therapist. ¡°Of course.¡± Lua winced. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. But that doesn¡¯t change the fact that you can begin to, now, and benefit from it.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Ishah nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ think about it.¡± Their other hand pulled back to press against part of the handmade flannel shirt they had on, over the emergency surgery scar on their abdomen from shortly after they¡¯d been brought back to the Order. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± They admitted. ¡°What should¡­ I think?¡± Lua¡¯s smile came back. ¡°That¡¯s not a helpful question. We aren¡¯t here to tell you what to think, we¡¯re here to help you make the best decision for you. From what I¡¯ve read of everything Deb here has documented, this process is going to be painful, difficult, and dangerous. Even if she can make it safe for you, doing it repeatedly is a needless risk, and every attempt is a chance for failure. So what you wish to make of yourself, you could be for quite some time. You can be whatever you want, the only condition is that you want it.¡± Deb moved her hands a lot when she spoke, always shifting her open palms to emphasize points. ¡°I want¡­¡± Ishah stopped, and a shaking wave passed through their body as tears suddenly formed in the corners of some of their eyes. ¡°I am stupid.¡± They said abruptly. ¡°You are not.¡± Deb spoke somewhat harshly. ¡°You¡¯re hurt, which is fixable. Sort of.¡± ¡°Deb¡­¡± Lua gave her an exasperated sigh. The sudden mild absurdity got a scattered chittering laugh from Ishah. He composed himself, and then spoke between deep breaths. ¡°Feels as if¡­ I failed at something. Lost something. Even though I know¡­ it would have¡­ killed me.¡± They looked up at Lua, who silently handed them a folded towel to wipe their tears on. ¡°So I am a fool.¡± Lua took in the words, and made a few notes on the pad of paper she always brought to her sessions. Then she nodded to herself, and asked one of the more important questions of the day. ¡°Do you want to be able to have children eventually?¡± Ishah bowed his head, arms curling tight around himself, except for the one that still held Deb¡¯s hand. ¡°Yes.¡± He said in a very small voice. ¡°Stupid.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that stupid.¡± Deb said reflexively, in a voice that didn¡¯t fit with the intimate tone of the conversation. She caught a sharp shake of the head from Lua, and corrected, ¡°It¡¯s not stupid at all, actually. You already identify as male, regardless of your body. There¡¯s nothing that says you can¡¯t keep doing that, even when you make a body that better suits you.¡± ¡°I could be¡­ different?¡± Ishah asked in a squeak, still staring down at the table. ¡°We¡¯re all different.¡± Lua said comfortingly. With one finger, she tapped her bangs. ¡°Deb and I have different hair colors. Genetically, that means we¡¯re surprisingly far apart. The two of you might have more in common in that way than she and I do. There¡¯s people in the world who would disagree, who would hate you for being different in any way, but they aren¡¯t here.¡± Opposite the therapist, Deb did a good job controlling her desire to explain that ratroach¡¯s weren¡¯t that genetically similar to humans. ¡°Also you can always ask James and he¡¯ll break their knees.¡± Deb added instead, unhelpfully. ¡°Deborah!¡± Lua folded her arms, ignoring Ishah¡¯s snicker. ¡°That is uncalled for!¡± ¡°I mean¡­!¡± Deb stopped as her phone started beeping. The phone that she¡¯d muted before coming in here. ¡°Uh oh.¡± She said, pulling the device out of her pocket and checking the message someone had sent her. ¡°I have to go.¡± She stood rapidly enough that Ishah flinched back. ¡°Shit. I have to go, now.¡± Deb dipped a hand into a different pocket to where she kept an emergency telepad with a specific destination prewritten on all the pages. She vanished with a pop, leaving Ishah and Lua watching where the doctor had knocked her chair over. Slowly, Lua looked back at Ishah. ¡°Would you like to talk about how you¡¯ve been doing living here, while we wait for her to get back?¡± Ishah slowly nodded, carefully putting his hands back on the table. ¡°I have discovered¡­ pop tarts.¡± He said, getting a cozy smile from Lua as the two of them went back to speaking about life, and how to handle its worries. For Deb, her worries had just gotten complicated. The hospital space the Order had built was close to state-of-the-art, had a decent amount of space, and was really not suitable as a triage area. But that was what it was being used as when Deb arrived. ¡°What happened?!¡± She demanded as she landed, getting a scream out of the college aged girl nearest her. The girl started to speak, but Deb ignored her as one of the actual nurses gave her a rapid update. ¡°Six people, teleported in. They aren¡¯t Order, but they need help. Mostly.¡± The elder woman, Margie, was rapidly pulling her wavy hair back into a tight ponytail as she jerked an elbow toward an even older man in a wheelchair by the hospital area¡¯s door. ¡°He¡¯s not hurt, but he has no idea where he is.¡± Deb nodded as she circled to the sink and started scrubbing her hands. ¡°Have you done triage before?¡± She asked in a suddenly unsteady voice. She¡¯d put in some overnights at an ER to pay for her student loans, but that wasn¡¯t this. To her relief, Margie nodded. ¡°I called you as soon as they arrived. Let¡¯s get to work.¡± The sorting was rapid. One man was missing his fucking arm, and was already unconscious. One man had an ankle that looked broken, but wasn¡¯t an immediate risk, and the woman with him seemed to be his wife, but not suffering anything other than confusion. Which was normal, when dealing with the Order, as far as Deb was concerned. The two girls both had injuries that looked like bite marks somehow, but they weren¡¯t bleeding out. The last girl had been brought in by a pair of Response members, both of whom had authorities that were healers. If you asked her after three beers and an evening of socializing, Deb might tell you that the authorities making her entire education invalid was frustrating. But right now, she didn¡¯t fucking care, and she yelled a task at them to close and sterilize the girl¡¯s wounds as she and Margie got the armless man stabilized. Tourniquet and sterile dressing for the injury itself. It was a slice so clean you could have used it for an anatomy textbook, which confused Deb immensely. What had happened?! She desperately wanted to know, but she didn¡¯t let it stop her from taking the offered block of pure water ice that Margie handed her, pressing it to the man¡¯s bloody chest, and letting out a Breath. Deb wasn¡¯t a delver anymore. But that hadn¡¯t stopped her from getting Ethan¡¯s team to carry her ass up a couple thousand feet of the Winter¡¯s Climb so she could take the spell that turned ice to blood transfusions. Then it was a matter of double checking his vitals, getting an IV in with a painkiller and antibiotic mix, drawing some blood to test for anything immediately dangerous, making sure he was strapped to the bed so he didn¡¯t thrash when he woke up, and getting an oxygen mask on to help regulate his shallow breathing. Margie also briefly turned up the heat in the room to counteract Deb bringing the temperature down with her magic. ¡°He¡¯s stable.¡± Deb announced forty minutes after the man had arrived. A blossom of relief in her chest as she spoke the words. ¡°He¡¯s still missing an arm. I¡¯ll have Aaron contact St. V¡¯s to set up surgery.¡± Margie pointed out. ¡°Also Aaron and Display-Of-Morning got here while you were working. We had Response set the broken ankle, but it needs a proper cast if we don¡¯t have another option. The girls are okay.¡± Deb let out a long breath. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go double check on them.¡± She strode out into the hallway, moving with purpose, but no longer in a rush. A big part of it was being a steady presence for anyone who was hurting; doctors that ran everywhere scared people, and scared people were a problem. Deb didn¡¯t take her time swapping out the blood covered scrubs and removing the rest of the red from her hands, but she did it with deliberate motions, in view from the clear doors of the rooms that their new patients were in. When she walked into the first one, the girl there looked terrified. ¡°What¡¯s going on?!¡± She demanded in a crying voice. ¡°What is happening?!¡± Deb wished she had a chart to check. Response were great people, but they didn¡¯t make notes when they magically sealed up cuts, and checking a chart was a great way to look official while you composed yourself. Instead, Deb just jumped into it. ¡°You¡¯re in the hospital section of the Order of Endless Rooms. Someone will want to talk to you soon about what happened, I¡¯m just here to make sure you¡¯re safe and healthy.¡± She smiled her best winning smile, which she knew was a little tight right now. ¡°Can you tell me how you got hurt?¡± ¡°Some¡­ something bit me.¡± The girl stammered, a hand pressing against her chest under the hospital gown she had on. ¡°Oh, God, it bit me. And then someone¡­ did we teleport?¡± She sounded confused, like she couldn¡¯t tell if she¡¯d just had a nightmare or not. ¡°You did.¡± Deb confirmed. ¡°You spoke to James, then, I take it?¡± She said as she pulled up a stool next to the bed and checked the girl¡¯s pulse. ¡°Do you mind if I do a blood draw?¡± The girl nodded slowly. ¡°He said to¡­ tell you everything. And to tell someone he loved them?¡± ¡°That sounds like James.¡± Deb snorted. ¡°What about everyone else?¡± The girl asked as Deb got a vein to the surface and poked a needle into her. She made a face at the pinch, but didn¡¯t squirm too much, which Deb appreciated. Deb glanced up at her. ¡°The other girl who got bit is one room over, I¡¯ll be checking her next. The man who lost an arm will¡­ well, he¡¯s okay for now. Did you know either of them?¡± ¡°No¡­ yes. She¡¯s my study partner. But I meant everyone else.¡± The girl looked at Deb. ¡°In the cafe?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Deb glanced over her shoulder, looking for anyone who might help. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re doing okay. If anyone was hurt, they¡¯d be here, or at a bigger hospital.¡± She said reassuringly, even if she wasn¡¯t sure of that herself. She finished up, and moved to the next room over to sit by another bed and answer the same questions again. As she did so, Deb kept up a secondary conversation through her skulljack, probing for information on what had happened. James had vanished, Alex was back and nearly killed herself chaining Climb spells, something had gone wrong¡­ Deb focused on what she was doing. After this, she¡¯d do some basic lab work on the blood samples she¡¯d pulled, make sure there was nothing in their¡­ She stopped. The girl¡¯s arms were bleeding. And not from her needle, either. ¡°Did you get bit on your arms?¡± Deb asked abruptly. The young woman held her arms up, blood beading on her dark skin like drops of glittering oil. ¡°Oh.¡± She said in a woozy voice. ¡°That¡­ hurts?¡± A few seconds later, she dropped her head back to the pillow, eyes flickering closed. ¡°Shit.¡± Deb unprofessionally barked out, quickly checking the girl¡¯s breathing and temperature. Absolutely running a fever, so the bite must have done something. And it was a high one, too; she needed to get that under control now, probably for the other girl as well. ¡°Margie!¡± Deb called, stepping out of the room and into the expanded hallway. ¡°I need a naproxen IV for these two. Whatever bit them¡­ wait.¡± Something caught her eye, and Deb snapped out an arm to point at one of the Response members who was sitting near the door, waiting to make sure they weren¡¯t needed for anything else. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Scratching?¡± She said curiously. ¡°My arms itch. A lot, actually.¡± She got a curious look on her face as she grabbed at the arm under her long sleeve. ¡°Uh¡­ hey¡­ uh oh.¡± The Responder said as she pulled down her sleeve, and revealed a set of dripping red holes. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s low key very bad, huh.¡± ¡°Shit!¡± Deb barked. ¡°Stay there! Seal the entrance! Margie, can you do those IVs? Display-Of-Morning, check on the other patients, don¡¯t touch them, seal the rooms. You,¡± she pointed at the two Response members, both of whom were now holding arms that were bleeding. One of them had an authority manifested as well, the hard green light from their scarf forming a mimic arm that also had holes in it. ¡°Did you teleport them down here, or walk?!¡± ¡°We teleported, but¡­ they came in on the landing pads.¡± The man who answered had a wide eyed look of terrified understanding. Deb took a breath, then closed her eyes and accessed her skulljack, and sent a message. Emergency quarantine of the Lair. She broadcast, poking the program that would ignore whether or not anyone¡¯s phones were muted or not. Seal floor by floor. No one in or out until spread vector is determined. She closed the program and opened her eyes, as the sounds of running feet sounded outside. ¡°It¡¯s either airborne, or physical contact.¡± She said out loud. ¡°Airborne could be slower, so¡­ shit, again.¡± Deb turned and sprinted down the hallway that had no business fitting in the space it was allotted. They had a fairly large space down here, even if they didn¡¯t actually use it all yet, but there was one room in particular that was occupied on a near constant basis. In the back of the hospital, decorated with flowers and the clumsy paintings the occupant made to pass the time, was a single crow-wasp. Deb snapped a mask over her face as she ran, cursing that she hadn¡¯t taken the precaution either. She¡¯d gotten fucking complacent working here. Her sneakers squeaked on the tile floor as she bolted to where Banana¡¯s door sat open, the increasingly cheerful girl sitting with all four legs crossed on her bed as she bobbed back and forth, watching a documentary on the TV. By the time Deb got there, her head was pounding, and her arms itched, and she realized that something had gone horribly, unspeakably wrong. ¡°Hhhhhhhello!¡± Banana cheerfully greeted Deb, taking one of her unfolded wing arms off the plush shark she had sitting beside her on the bed. And then she saw the look of bitter fear in the human woman¡¯s eyes. ¡°¡®Ebb?¡± Banana¡¯s voice was a buzzing anxiety. Deb pulled the door closed, and twisted the handle to the quarantine seal. A system they¡¯d installed once as a specific precaution, replicated across the whole suite of rooms, suddenly seeming disturbingly prescient. She tried to say something, but found her breath was coming hard. Banana scrambled out of her bed, scattering sheets and punching a hole in the mattress with the one spike-limb she still had intact by accident. ¡°¡®Ebb!¡± She screamed in terror as the door closed. ¡°Whyyyy?!¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± Deb mouthed through the wall as she felt herself lose her balance. She braced against the heavy glass, sliding down to the floor with a thump as fever flared up. In a haze, she tried to send a message to Sunny, but she could barely make her skulljack register, much less do detail work right now. And then she blacked out. When she came to again, her forearms hurt and had scabs all over them, Banana was making a buzzing wail behind her as she pounded her feathered wings on the sealed door, her head was perfectly clear, and there was something floating in her mind. [Survivor : Low : +2 Skill Points] ¡°Ow.¡± Was the first thing Deb said. Followed by ¡°God dammit.¡± As she realized she¡¯d bled all over her floor, and also her sneakers. ¡°I liked these.¡± She said as she dragged herself, leaving bloody handprints on the glass of the door, and realized she could stand without issue. ¡°¡®Ebb!¡± The squawk from behind her drew her attention back to Banana. ¡°Whyyyy! Why?!¡± ¡°Banana. I¡¯m so sorry. How long was I out?¡± Deb spoke up to be heard through the glass. Banana cocked her head, pointing her good eye at the TV in her room. She started counting on the tips of one of her wing hands. ¡°F-four!¡± She announced eventually. ¡°Four hours, or four animals?¡± Deb sighed at how the new crow girl kept time by relative nature documentary spans. Banana nodded at the second part of the question. ¡°Animals. Okay. So about an hour and change.¡± Deb pressed a hand to the sealed room. ¡°Okay. We don¡¯t know what this is, and you need to stay here for a bit, okay? When it¡¯s safe¡­ well, I¡¯ll be back. Don¡¯t worry. I swear I¡¯ll be back. You¡¯ve got your shark to keep you safe, right?¡± ¡°Kay.¡± Banana sounded scared, but pulled the plush shark off the bed to hold in front of her as she sat on the floor. ¡°Don¡¯t stay down there or your legs are gonna hurt.¡± Deb said, before coughing phlegm out of her throat. ¡°Okay. The others. I have to check.¡± There were a thousand missed messages as she walked slowly back down the hall to where the others were. No one knew why she¡¯d called a quarantine, but it had rapidly become apparent. Some people had woken up before her, and so Deb started building a profile of the infection as she moved. Rapid spread, almost certainly airborne. No secondary infection, though she¡¯d need to do full bloodwork to verify that, and she would be taking zero chances. It hit camracondas way less harshly, and they also only got a single skill point from it instead of two. No one had died, which was good, though several people had collapsed into things and had physical injuries which was less good. At least one concussion. They¡¯d managed to lock everything down before it left the Lair; it never even made it to the upper level, and it absolutely didn¡¯t get to the LA office, which was almost enough of a miracle to make Deb reconsider going back to Catholicism. Almost. Not quite. And also, everyone had gotten skill points, which was new. Which meant this was a dungeon disease. Her worst nightmare was here, now. And then Deb got to the part of the medical wing they¡¯d been using, and had to update the Order on something grim. Someone had died. Five someones, actually. Five out of the six people brought in were corpses by the time Deb got there; the only person alive was the one girl Margie had gotten an IV into before she¡¯d passed out herself. She was already awake, and sobbing, having tugged her IV stand into her friend¡¯s room and encountered the results of the disease firsthand while everyone else was out. I think we have a real fucking problem on our hands. Deb sent over the Order¡¯s message server. What the hell did James do? _____ Reed was working on something big when stuff started to go wrong. He didn¡¯t actually know, though, because he was working with the crazy old mechanic cult leader¡¯s notes, which required him to be in the secure room where they stored them, which was also a faraday cage. Which was frustrating, because he actually had gotten used to using his skulljack to reference everything. Having google in your brain was essentially what it was to own a smartphone, but turned up to eleven. Right now, though, he was devoid of the internet, and having to use his wits, his least powerful weapon, to muddle through what he was doing. Which was trying to build a dungeon detector. The old madman who had killed an entire city had not kept good notes. Reed also didn¡¯t keep good notes, but his were bad on the level of someone who didn¡¯t index properly, not someone who was having a disassociate break with reality and was also very bigoted. Though a lot of the man¡¯s bigotry seemed to just be in the form of using whatever words were available to hurt anyone who wasn¡¯t him personally. But it still sucked. The problem was, there actually was information in his notebooks about how to do stuff. How to use dungeon magic to make living servants, which was how the necroads had gotten put together originally, or how to turn owned property into a sort of array that could suppress a dungeon that you ¡®surrounded¡¯. Reed had been trying to turn this stuff in to usable knowledge, which was tricky. A lot of it was tricky on the level of being hugely unethical, like how making dungeon life this way required you use the bones of people you personally killed in the dungeon. Some of it was tricky because it required Route Horizon specifically, he was pretty sure. And the rest of it was a logistical nightmare, like, ¡°buy a town¡± logistical nightmare. But there was some stuff that he¡¯d noticed right away, that had already been relevant. Like how some of the patterns the mechanic had carved into things were really similar to the design work that made red orb totems work properly. And while Momo¡¯s practice of just ¡®feeling it out¡¯ was nice and all, Reed had been trying to build a database of more practically usable information for those. And from here he had found something like a language. Not the same, but close, like how English and Spanish were cousins. Terms for ¡®car¡¯ and ¡®distance¡¯ and ¡®machinery¡¯ were dragged out and translated to Momo and Juan¡¯s work on the reds, and Reed had gotten encouraged. Now, he was trying to figure out if he had the information he needed from just this, and the other bits and pieces of knowledge the Order had picked up, to make something that could find a dungeon, if they didn¡¯t already know where one was. He was pretty sure, pretty sure, that he could build one that would find an entrance to a specifically known dungeon. If - big if - he was willing to personally slit the throat of someone between the ages of twelve and fifteen. Reed twisted a curl of his hair around a finger, and tugged. Reading this stuff made him feel like maybe the Order should lean a little harder into just shooting more people. No one should think like this, act like this. And he felt gross for having to use it as a source to strip something useful from. But a dungeon detector would put them so absurdly far ahead of the curve they knew about. So he kept reading. Right up until the guy doing the monitoring today, which was Daniel, knocked on the door that he¡¯d punched in the code to open up. ¡°Hey!¡± He called. ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem!¡± ¡°What did James do?¡± Reed asked reflexively. ¡°Unleashed a plague. Check your notifications.¡± Daniel said. Reed laughed, and then stopped laughing, and then felt his face fall as he left everything he was working on on the table, stepped out of the secure room, and started pulling stuff up through his skulljack link. ¡°Oh fuck.¡± He said, looking around the space they were in. ¡°Are we safe here? Wait, why did you take me out of the sealed room?!¡± He demanded of Daniel. ¡°I think we¡¯re okay.¡± Daniel said, sheepishly not admitting that he just hadn¡¯t thought about it. ¡°But we should stay put here.¡± ¡°Wait, James is missing?¡± Reed walked around behind the desk outside the door that led to where they kept the dangerous stuff, and stole Daniel¡¯s chair. ¡°When did this happen? Oh hell, we need to figure out how to find him.¡± Reed glanced back at the room where he¡¯d been plugging away at a madman¡¯s notes. ¡°Is it close to working?¡± Daniel asked him. ¡°Not even slightly.¡± Reed snorted. ¡°I think I¡¯m missing something about time, in the abstract, and the standing policy of not fucking with time seems smart to me. But that¡¯s fine. We¡¯ve got options.¡± ¡°Do we?¡± Daniel asked. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Reed didn¡¯t blame him for the question, and it did seem earnest. Daniel had been away for a while; he and Pathfinder, the first navigator the Order had ever met, took a lot of camping trips. He was only here today by coincidence, because Davis had asked the first person he¡¯d crossed paths with to fill in for him while he took a couple ex-Alchemists on a first dungeon delve. For a while, it had annoyed Reed, that Daniel was gone so much. But it had been pointed out by one of the new camraconda engineers that he could take a vacation literally whenever he wanted, and yet, he was still absorbed with Research. Also, Alanna had casually mentioned to him once that everywhere Daniel and Path went, they seemed to stumble across some kind of mystery to solve. The image of the pair as living an unintentional Scooby Doo plot was too funny for Reed to be mad at all. ¡°I think we can come up with something.¡± Reed said. He rapidly created a channel for brainstorming through his skulljack and invited all of Research. And Daniel, who took a lot longer to join it through his phone. ¡°Dude, just use the thing.¡± Reed said, shaking his head as he tapped the back of his neck. Daniel looked up from where he was leaning on the other side of the desk, the only sound down here aside from him tapping his foot on the concrete floor was the hum of an air conditioner. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± He said. ¡°Okay, what about this? Someone says we have a Climb spell for tracking things?¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t read the whole document.¡± Reed snorted, already knowing what was being talked about. ¡°It¡¯s a range of about a mile.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Daniel kept scrolling. ¡°Jesus, everyone has so many ideas. What have you guys been doing down here while we were gone?¡± ¡°Identifying dungeontech, building the future, and trying to figure out if we could crush yellow orbs in a hydraulic press.¡± Reed answered. ¡°The answer is yes, before you ask. It¡¯s deeply disappointing.¡± He didn¡¯t explain why that was, as he closed his eyes and devoted his attention to the conversation. Potions were out; they didn¡¯t have anything that even remotely helped with this. Relationstick connections also weren¡¯t viable, so that whole field was dismissed for now. Someone had checked the iLipede that made social connection maps of people, and put James¡¯ name in, which helped them start identifying the other people still in the cafe with him, but didn¡¯t do much for figuring out where that cafe was. People outside the building got looped in. The Route Horizon delvers over in Townton ran down their list of available spells, but the closest anyone got was the one that made a journey safe, and that didn¡¯t even come close to finding whatever dungeon James had absolutely been teleported into. Reed remembered that the map chunks they¡¯d copied and the spell from that weren¡¯t in the database yet, and made a link to it, but Pave was the simplest Route spell they¡¯d found so far and it was basically just a somewhat unpleasant punch. ¡°We have a table that swaps bodies?¡± Daniel asked abruptly. Reed looked up from where he¡¯d laid his head in his folded arms on the desk¡¯s surface. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s not helpful.¡± ¡°I mean, I figure not now. But what happens if you swap bodies with an infomorph or something?¡± Daniel questioned. ¡°We don¡¯t know. The table seems like it would give someone from OSHA a heart attack. Focus.¡± He ducked his head back down. ¡°What this about a lion sculpture thing from the Library? Also why haven¡¯t I gone to the Library?¡± Daniel kept distracting him. Reed groaned. ¡°Oh, that thing. It¡¯s a menace. We used two of them before we realized it was eroding trust. It, like, ¡®amplifies the effect of successful rhetorical attacks¡¯, or something. I¡¯m not the psychology guy. We¡¯ve got one left, we¡¯re not touching it, it won¡¯t help, move on.¡± He closed his eyes again. They couldn¡¯t teleport to James. Someone had already tried, before the quarantine had come down, and it just sent them to a different James who was rather surprised. Mostly, this just worked to confirm that he was in a dungeon. Teleporting into dungeons was a problem, because no matter how artificial they seemed sometimes, it was important to remember that dungeons didn¡¯t actually have addresses in them, and that was what the telepads seemed to function on. Even the new variety Anesh had made. After exhausting their list of stored magic, people started trying to make blue orb objects that could do the job. Cell phones that could connect to specific humans, pagers that could summon someone, even just a rolling office chair that would always hit James specifically if you drifted across the floor in it. None of them worked. Or rather, the ideas never got off the ground. Everyone was getting better at making magic items, but no one could make the high concept ideas they had stick, and they rapidly burned through half their supply of size two and three blue orbs before switching directions. The other plan was trying to add a relevant power to a Status Quo leveling object, but after another thirty broken orbs, the most the team on that had accomplished was giving a shield bracer the Fake Stockpile power at level one. ¡°Can Path hear me?¡± Reed asked suddenly. ¡°If you talk out loud, sure.¡± Daniel answered. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°We have navigator eggs down here. If we incept one with the starter map of ¡®find James¡¯, would that work?¡± Daniel focused, folding his hand back to lock fingers with Pathfinder¡¯s manifested limb. ¡°No.¡± He said sadly. ¡°She says it would hit the same roadblock she is; there¡¯s something resisting finding him. It might kill the new navigator, even if it does work.¡± Which was unacceptable, Reed thought with a grimace. The Order¡¯s stance on not making life to be tools was entirely understandable, even if sometimes he did sorta wish he was an ethically dubious mad scientist. But this diverted him to a new line of questioning. Planner said they couldn¡¯t feel where James was, but that wasn¡¯t a big surprise, since Planner wasn¡¯t actually living in James¡¯ head. What was weird was that the handful of Response authorities that were starting to develop in the direction of search-and-rescue couldn¡¯t detect him either. Reed had a brief worry that there was something blocking informorphs in general, which would be bad for a lot of the tricks the Order had. He opened his eyes and looked at Daniel, who was already answering as he read the same thing Reed just had. ¡°Path can¡¯t find him.¡± Daniel said as a dusty orange hand settled over the back of his arm. ¡°Because of the cost. It¡¯s too far, and too resistant.¡± ¡°Do navigators not have a similar wavelength, like assignments do? Could you at least try to contact Zhu?¡± Reed asked. ¡°They do, but we can¡¯t. Path doesn¡¯t actually know Zhu.¡± Reed winced again. And then jolted upright, sending the wheeled chair he¡¯d stolen sliding backward into the concrete brick wall. ¡°The beach!¡± He yelled. ¡°Aah!¡± Daniel jerked back from the shout. ¡°What?! Why!¡± ¡°Like, a week ago, we went to the beach!¡± Reed was shouting. ¡°I fucking remember Zhu zooming around. A bunch of infomorphs were out, actually. But he had a friend!¡± ¡°Why are you yelling?!¡± Daniel yelled back. Then he blinked, a look of understanding coming over his face. ¡°Wait, no, okay. Path says that could be enough; who was it?¡± Reed flicked open their roster in his head, trying to figure out who it had been as he coiled and tugged his already curly hair into further loops. ¡°No, no, no, wrong species, no¡­ here.¡± He snapped his fingers. ¡°Speaker! One host, they¡¯re marked as the child of Eleanor Elias Chase.¡± ¡°I know El.¡± Daniel said with the kind of grin someone got when they had a clear solution to a problem. ¡°She lives one basement sideways. Let¡¯s go.¡± Reed caught his arm, and found that Daniel was surprisingly hard to actually drag to a stop. ¡°There¡¯s a quarantine.¡± He said abruptly. ¡°Because of the plague.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Daniel looked down the open hallway, the two of them going silent as the hum of the air conditioning took over. ¡°Right. Do we¡­ should we wait in the secure room?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not hermetically sealed, also next time suggest that an hour ago.¡± Reed snorted. _____ Momo slept through a potential end of human civilization. If she were conscious to that fact, she might feel bad about it, but she also might just roll herself back into a blanket burrito and wait for it to all blow over. When the Order had opened up almost a hundred well made, comfortable, warm, and cozy apartments inside about two hundred square feet of basement, Momo had actually had first dibs if she¡¯d wanted one. She¡¯d helped a lot with the design of the orange totem array that they used, been one of Mark and Bill¡¯s consultants on the actual build of the first apartment when she wasn¡¯t helping fetch them stuff, and did a lot of the security testing with JP¡¯s bastard squad. Momo wasn¡¯t a huge player in any one part, but her fingerprints were all over those apartments. She¡¯d turned it down. Not that they weren¡¯t great, but someone else could enjoy one. They had a bunch of people, it was pretty much a guarantee that someone would need a place to live. Maybe her claim had gone to a ratroach or something. That¡¯d be cool, Momo figured. Those poor fuckers needed every tiny comfort the Order could give them. After all, she already had a place in the Lair. And, sure, Alanna got on her case about it being a concrete box in the basement. But Momo had furniture now. And her walls were covered in cork board with all her totem notes on them, and also a large art print of a sexy fox person, because Momo hadn¡¯t survived death on multiple occasions to not have a sexy fox person on her wall. And yeah, she didn¡¯t have a kitchen or a bathroom, but the Lair did, and they were no farther away than just ¡®some stairs¡¯, which¡­ well there were houses with the rooms farther away. Her little slice of the world was small, but it was hers, even if it was cramped and it got way too cold when she was trying to sleep. But that was what the roughly one million blankets she had were for. She¡¯d mentioned she was cold once and everyone had given her blankets over the next week. The one from Liz was especially nice, even if Momo felt like the direction of gift giving there was backward, since she¡¯d nearly gotten Liz killed that one time and probably owed her something. Plus, Momo had a new heater for her bed. It complained a lot though, but it was still great for staying warm in the middle of an extended winter. Blinking her eyes open, Momo made a strained noise as she stretched out and felt her feet poke out of the blanket pile into the cold air. For a few minutes, she considered going back to sleep, but there was stuff to do today, as with every day. Also her stomach was growling, and she was reminded that it had been a while since she ate anything. ¡°Mmm¡­ breakfast.¡± Momo pushed herself up to a sitting position, thinking about a sandwich and trying to ignore the chill air across her skin. She needed to get to one of her bathrobes. ¡°Kay.¡± She turned and swung her feet off the bed, sitting on the edge and slowly letting her brain turn on. The divot she put in the bed caused the other person sleeping against her to roll haphazardly up against her back with a sleepy ¡°Oof.¡± El woke up a lot more violently than Momo did, rapidly thrashing off half the blanket nest she¡¯d been buried under before flopping into a curved form and wrapping herself around Momo¡¯s waist. ¡°Uggggh.¡± She groaned out, strands of tangled blonde hair falling into her mouth. ¡°My head hurts.¡± Momo couldn¡¯t, and didn¡¯t try to, keep a sleepy smile off her face as she shifted around and ran her fingernails over El¡¯s back. ¡°Yeah. Cause you got hit in the head.¡± She said coyly. El cracked one eye open and glared up at her bedmate. ¡°And also a lot of other places.¡± Momo conceded, eying the black and yellow bruise that was splashed across El¡¯s flank like someone had hit her with a paint balloon. They¡¯d gotten back late from a dungeon delve into the Ceaseless Stacks. El seemed to remember washing off ink, mutually agreeing to eat later, and sneaking beer stolen from Nate¡¯s ¡®secret¡¯ fridge into the bath. ¡°Am I hung over?¡± She asked. ¡°Is that why my head hurts?¡± ¡°I mean, you never were before, why start now?¡± Momo cheerfully asked. ¡°Wanna go get breakfast?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Great. It¡¯s six PM or something, so we can¡¯t.¡± Momo hopped off the bed, but not fast enough to avoid the swat El aimed at her ass. ¡°Ow! You dick!¡± She slid herself backward, pivoting her feet into a fighting stance that felt ingrained in her bones but that she¡¯d never actually learned. ¡°Treat my ass better!¡± ¡°You never said that before, why start now?¡± El snarked back at her. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you.¡± Momo snorted. ¡°What, dressed like that?¡± El snipped back. Momo looked down at herself. Currently, she was dressed in a pair of Hello Kitty panties, and a bunch of scars. ¡°I think I look pretty good like this, sure.¡± She said, poking at her stomach. ¡°Would you still love me if I did the exercise potion thing, stopped being a curvy delight, and got abs?¡± ¡°Who says I love you now?¡± El asked, waggling her eyebrows as she crawled out of bed herself. She brought a blanket with her though, wrapped up as a shawl to ward off the basement cold. ¡°I¡¯m hurt!¡± Momo swooned dramatically. ¡°Devastated! I feel so used! This is exactly what my mother warned me would happen when I got involved with you!¡± ¡°You told me you stopped talking to your mom even before everyone forgot you existed. My mom just told me our relationship is a phase.¡± El¡¯s voice dropped some of the humor as she said the words, and a sudden awkward silence took over as she started digging around their shared misuse of a dresser for a pair of jeans. It took Momo a second to slowly drop her hand from her forehead where she was posing. She slumped a bit, softening as she stepped over and hugged El from behind while she rustled through their drawers. ¡°Your mom is kind of a dick.¡± She offered, voice muffled by El¡¯s worn blanket. ¡°Eh.¡± ¡°She is!¡± Momo insisted. ¡°She¡¯s mostly cool about the magic and the dungeons and stuff, but she gets so fucking weird about any romantic stuff. She¡¯s weird about us, she¡¯s weird about Deb and Sunny, she¡¯s weird about Arrush and Keeka, she¡­ El your mom is just low key fucking homophobic, wow, how am I just now getting that.¡± Momo kicked one of her bathrobes up off the throw rug on the floor and sniffed at the fabric before slinging it around her shoulders. ¡°I know!¡± El threw her arms up, sending one of Momo¡¯s shirts flying as she did so. It knocked something over. Neither of them reacted. The room was already a certified disaster area, what could get any worse? ¡°I fucking know. What am I supposed to do about it? Tattle on her to James or something?¡± ¡°He¡¯d kick her out for you.¡± Momo helpfully pointed out. ¡°He likes you. Like, not in a¡­ like a person. A friend or something. For some fucking reason.¡± ¡°Ass.¡± El nailed Momo in the face with a sock. ¡°Yeah, and then I¡¯ll have rendered my mom homeless. Yay me.¡± ¡°Whatever, it¡¯d be her fault. Also do you see my brain braid around?¡± Momo swept her eyes over the available surfaces, before starting to tug up the edges of blankets on the bed and see if she¡¯d slept on it. ¡°You put it in a pocket last night.¡± El reminded her, before she took a step and got a weird look on her face. ¡°Oh, shit, I forgot to turn in the orbs.¡± ¡°Which ones?¡± ¡°The ones I just stepped on.¡± El snagged a pouch off the floor, tossing it onto the bed with a thump. ¡°Welp. I have a rank in a very specific kind of spider now. Also red tail hawk. That¡¯s cool, I liked Animorphs.¡± Momo gave her a friendly shoulder check as she moved across the room to search her desk. ¡°I never read that as a kid. The author¡¯s cool, right?¡± ¡°Hah! Yes! As a kid!¡± El¡¯s face tinted red as she stared at the ceiling of the room lit entirely by lava lamps. Momo twisted her head around and shot her a look. The kind of look that said ¡®oh come on¡¯, and also ¡®remember who you¡¯re talking to¡¯ all at once. ¡°Alright fucking fine,¡± El conceded, ¡°I listened to the audiobooks in the Horizon over the last month. Jake is a war criminal and I¡¯d probably fuck Ax. Happy?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means but yes! Absolutely!¡± Momo dropped a stack of notebooks onto a stuffed bee on her floor, the paper folding slightly as they all slid off. Her desk was mostly clear now, and she still hadn¡¯t found her braid. ¡°You make me happy for some fucking reason. And dammit. I can¡¯t find the thing. You wanna go eat?¡± El wrapped Momo in a sudden hug, the warmth of her body pressing through the bathrobe. ¡°I can think of something to eat.¡± She said suggestively. Momo pulled her head back to land a set of small kisses on El¡¯s neck. ¡°Mmmh. I can think of-¡± Both of them stopped suddenly as, in unison, their stomachs growled in a way that was almost painfully audible. ¡°Okay, nevermind. I¡¯m fucking hungry, not hungry fucking.¡± ¡°You have such a way with words.¡± El flicked her tongue over Momo¡¯s ear before letting her go. ¡°A poet of our age.¡± ¡°Poetry is subjective. That was a poem. Anyway, I¡¯m ready to go grab something. You dressed?¡± El flipped her off as she grabbed a shirt from what she hoped was the clean pile of laundry. ¡°You¡¯re wearing a bathrobe! That¡¯s not ¡®dressed¡¯ you fucking gremlin.¡± With a smile like a shark that had just been offered a job at a day care, Momo spread her arms. ¡°I set a precedent!¡± She declared. ¡°Everyone thinks this is just me now! I change hairstyles every two days, wear bathrobes, and do weird magic shit! And they pay me!¡± ¡°I do youth group stuff.¡± El said. ¡°They pay me too, and I get to dress with, like, pants and shit.¡± She sighed. ¡°Also I¡¯ve got one of those in, like¡­ an hour? You said it was six? I gotta eat fast.¡± ¡°It¡¯s four, I lied.¡± Momo said. ¡°You have a phone!¡± ¡°My phone got broken on the delve.¡± ¡°You take your precious magic pocket device on delves?!¡± Momo looked shocked. ¡°This is why James likes you! You¡¯re as stupid as he is!¡± El kicked a pillow off the floor at Momo¡¯s head, missed, and nearly took out a lava lamp. ¡°Why the fuck am I dating you again?¡± ¡°We¡¯re both lonely and can keep up with each other.¡± Momo said with a kind of raw honesty that maybe should have hurt, but just¡­ didn¡¯t. It was just true, and they both knew it, and it didn¡¯t make things any less fun. ¡°Anyway. Let¡¯s go harass whoever¡¯s in the kitchen to make us sushi.¡± Trying to comb down her hair with her fingers, El rolled her eyes back at Momo. ¡°I¡¯m going to start dating a camraconda. They seem easier than you.¡± ¡°Bring her by sometime when you do.¡± Momo replied with a wry grin. She made sure her bathrobe was fastened around her waist, double checked El was dressed, and then pressed on the door with a metal clack of the heavy handle. ¡°Are we poly?¡± El asked. ¡°Or, like, open? Or whatever the shit everyone else around here is. Anarchist polyamory?¡± She sounded legitimately curious. ¡°Also have you noticed that no one in this fucking building is monogamous?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true! Bill and his wife are¡­ actually I don¡¯t wanna dig into that too deeply. We¡¯ll find out they were swingers in the 80s or something. Whatever. We can be whatever you want as long as you tell me about it while we eat.¡± Momo kicked a pile of laundry away from the door and swung it open. Just in time to catch Reed about to start frantically pounding on the door. He was wearing a mask, as was Daniel, who was with him, and even¡­ ¡°Planner, why do you have masks on?¡± El asked, popping her head on Momo¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You don¡¯t breathe.¡± ¡°That did not keep me from being infected.¡± Planner said. ¡°We require your assistance. Now.¡± Momo and El took steps back from the door. ¡°Infected with what.¡± Momo asked. ¡°Do you not have a phone?¡± Daniel asked with confusion. ¡°We¡¯re not doing this again.¡± Momo did not explain. ¡°What do you need?¡± ¡°El, we require Speaker. And for you to sleep for us.¡± Planner said in their voice like pen on a legal pad. El shrugged. ¡°Sure. Speaky was staying with Ava and Hidden while we were playing in the Stacks, but I can get them back here basically whenever. Can I get breakfast first?¡± She snapped. ¡°My youth group!¡± ¡°Probably canceled.¡± Reed said. ¡°I¡¯ll handle it.¡± Momo said. ¡°This looks serious. Should we do it somewhere that isn¡¯t¡­ uh¡­¡± she subconsciously moved to block the view through the door of the chaos that was her room. ¡°Yeah.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s go. And get a mask; you¡¯re probably safe, but Deb¡¯s still yelling at everyone and the upstairs got hit bad.¡± ¡°Hit bad with what?!¡± El exploded. ¡°I¡¯ll fill you in on the way.¡± Reed said, turning and leading the way out. ¡°This is James¡¯ fault.¡± El said to Momo as the two of them followed, Momo always managing to be surprised when she got far enough away from the red totem that told her how her succulents were doing that it stopped dumping information into her head. That might be why she was having weird dreams, now that she thought about it. ¡°I know this is James¡¯ fault. It¡¯s always him. No one else ever comes back with this kind of problem.¡± ¡°You came in with this kind of problem. You shot-¡° ¡°I¡¯m sick of hearing how I shot James.¡± El cut her off. ¡°In fact, if I have to keep hearing it? I¡¯m gonna do it again, just to refresh the feeling.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll hold his arms. Anyway. Let¡¯s go see what¡¯s fucked this time.¡± _____ Alanna and Anesh were hanging out in a basement when trouble started. James had gone off to handle a problem at about the time Alanna was getting off her Response shift. The three of them had been going to hang out tonight with Sarah and Auberdeen, just lounging around their apartment and making food. Maybe watch a movie, probably just talk or something. But then Sarah had gotten wrapped up in a Clutter Ascent thing, and Auberdeen was¡­ well, actually still at home with another Anesh. But the point was that plans got shaken up. Plans were a transient thing around the Order of Endless Rooms. Alanna still wanted some kind of thing to do, and Anesh had shrugged and suggested that they could help with working on the gardens, probably not expecting Alanna to jump on the chance to do even more work. He was fine with it though; his girlfriend¡¯s seemingly boundless energy - possibly magically induced energy at that - was refreshing, and he¡¯d personally been feeling kinda isolated from the Order in general lately. ¡°Well yeah, you spend all your time arguing with one of the two people who can actually understand you about either space travel, or totems, and you do it using math.¡± Alanna had bluntly informed him when he brought it up on the elevator ride down. ¡°¡­I like math.¡± Anesh defended himself. ¡°Also I spend time with you and James!¡± ¡°Buddy, I love you, but we spend a lot of our time exploring dungeons together, having sex, or going on walks and talking about dungeons or sex.¡± Alanna countered as the elevator doors slid open. ¡°We¡¯re not exactly social. I¡¯m the most social, and I kinda don¡¯t like people that much.¡± ¡°You do Response activities literally every day.¡± Anesh squinted at her retreating back as he followed her off the elevator and into the basement, the two of them falling into step next to each other as they pushed a hand cart laden with bags of potting soil down the hallway to where the concrete halls would eventually open up into a massive atrium full of apartments. ¡°You love people.¡± Alanna clicked her tongue at him. ¡°I love ¡®people¡¯ in an abstract. I think every life is deeply precious, and that our systems and society should cherish and nurture those lives.¡± ¡°¡­and?¡± ¡°And I have more important things to do than talk to people who don¡¯t interest me.¡± She said flatly. ¡°Uh huh.¡± Anesh snorted. ¡°And the members of our magical chivalric order don¡¯t interest you?¡± Alanna helped him pull the cart to the side to let a line of camracondas and a lone human filter past them, before they got moving again. ¡°We¡¯re barely chivalric, if at all. I don¡¯t actually know what that word means, but I am pretty sure it¡¯s got more vows of chastity than anyone here has ever taken.¡± ¡°That¡¯s hardly fair, Alex is ace.¡± Anesh countered. ¡°Also, there¡¯s¡­ mmmh, no. No. I was gonna say ¡®ratroaches¡¯ as an example, but that¡¯s¡­ a bad example, that¡¯s trauma.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°There¡¯s too much going on. I¡¯m losing track of it all. I used to be able to keep a list of every skill we had in a notebooks.¡± ¡°And now we¡¯re gardening!¡± Alanna cheerily hip checked him. ¡°In a magic basement, that we built a magical habitat in!¡± ¡°You also dodged my question.¡± ¡°Everyone here is fine I¡¯m just being contrary for no reason.¡± Alanna speedily admitted. Anesh ruffled her hair, the motion of reaching up to his taller partner¡¯s head both familiar and amusing to him. ¡°Cute.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s go make you some friends.¡± He masterfully deflected the conversation away from the fact that he was the one who had a hard time meeting people in the Order. The living quarters of the Lair were in a basement. This was technically correct, but a deeply meaningless designation. This basement in particular probably belonged to a university, or maybe an athletic club, before it had been dropped under the Lair through the magic of a green orb. No one was sure if it was copied, or stolen, but it probably wasn¡¯t stolen since ¡°basement goes missing¡± is a headline that¡¯s hard to miss. The hallway was more like an access corridor, and while there were two different halls into the apartment area, bottlenecking was sometimes an issue, so people tried to move quick and not be too in the way here. As they stepped into the open area that might have been modeled after a basketball court or something, the whole place opened up. Almost literally. Natural light from a skylight overhead let the last bits of winter evening in from through twenty feet of rock, dozens of patios spread out around them on either side of the expanded courtyard space, and what should have been maybe a hundred feet of room stretched out for maybe ten times that much. There was something that looked like a modern art sculpture in the middle of the courtyard space, uneven tubes of polished steel bound to each other like a strange crystal formation. Originally, it had been the totem array that kept this place going, but that was a stupid security risk, so the actual totem was somewhere underground and locked in place with a few magical effects, and this was just statuary. And all around the massive courtyard, a growing collection of plant life. It had been noticed fairly quickly that the space had a few well traveled lines of residents going from the entrances to the apartments to the exits of the space, and the rest of the courtyard was mostly unused. And so, as a project, a few people got into setting up a little community garden. Which had sort of turned into a bigger project than anyone expected, as their ambitions threatened to catch up to their budget. But it had gotten a lot of people interested, and now Alanna and Anesh were bringing more potting soil to a new addition to the living space. A fact Alanna announced by calling out ¡°Hey I brought you dirt!¡± as they wheeled the cart in to where an amount of construction work was happening. ¡°Oh good, the dirt I ordered!¡± Mars clapped his hands, dusting off the work gloves he was wearing as he rose up from where he was dumping chunks of broken concrete into a wheelbarrow. ¡°Hey, kids, we have dirt!¡± He called back to the group of people helping him pull chunks out of the line of shattered stone. ¡°You broke our floor.¡± Anesh accused the engineer. ¡°Well hang on.¡± Alanna interjected before Mars could defend himself. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s got some kind of floor magic.¡± Mars nodded so vigorously it looked like his freckles blurred. ¡°I do. It¡¯s called ¡®professional help from someone who works with concrete¡¯. Also probably some actually magic but that¡¯s not my department.¡± He pointed a finger at a line drawn on the floor around the edge of where it had cracked into movable pieces. ¡°We¡¯re basically digging a trench here, I actually do have some magic for drainage, and then we have normal pipes for irrigation. We¡¯ll layer the dirt down, and then do some planting.¡± As he was talking, a couple of younger kids had crept up toward the conversation. Morgan was actually halfway through being nineteen, but Alanna still thought of him as a kid, and Ava was only just starting middle school, which made her¡­ twelve? Eleven? Young. She might be a bit late on it, since dungeon nonsense had upended the poor kid¡¯s life. Morgan spoke up, interjecting into the conversation in the way that teenagers did when they knew something. ¡°We¡¯re planting bamboo!¡± He explained. ¡°And then beans, to maintain soil quality, because it¡¯s an artificial symbiosis.¡± ¡°That sounds like a term you read recently and have been waiting to use on someone.¡± Anesh said as he kicked the break pedal down on the cart. ¡°No!¡± Came the instant denial. Anesh laughed. ¡°I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m only saying that because I do it too. James does it constantly.¡± ¡°Oh. Then yes.¡± Morgan abruptly pivoted to admitting to the tactic. ¡°So, you want our help breakin¡¯ rocks?¡± Alanna asked, and got another nod from Mars. ¡°I could move some rocks.¡± She looked over the group of people who were either loading wheelbarrows, or taking water breaks, when a specific figure caught her eye. ¡°Oh! Hey Arrush!¡± She was actually kind of surprised the ratroach was out here. There were more people in general than she¡¯d expected, actually; maybe twenty or thirty people who lived and worked here helping or hanging out. She was actually pleasantly surprised to see there were more ratroaches as well. All of them looking very on edge, but all of them still here and participating. ¡°Hello.¡± Arrush greeted her, dropping what looked like a forty pound chunk of concrete into the metal wheelbarrow he had just mostly filled by himself. A few more people, including an excited Ava, tossed smaller chunks in around it, but it rapidly got to the point that the man hauling them away had laughed and called for them to stop as he took it away. ¡°I am helping.¡± ¡°Yeah, same.¡± She shrugged as everyone just kind of flowed around her, and dropped down to help move rocks. Alanna and Arrush worked next to each other for about twenty minutes without saying anything. She just kind of rapidly got into the groove of loosening one of the shattered chunks, prying it away, and then dumping it into a removal cart. Anesh had gotten into a conversation with Mars about space travel, again, and Alanna found herself snickering about it as the two of them rapidly created a bubble of distraction around them. A pair of camracondas wearing a new generation of the arm packs came in at one point and deposited about a hundred pounds of bamboo clippings that they¡¯d be using as their starting line. Ava almost instantly got distracted when another kid her age showed up and sprinted away in the way that only children with boundless energy could. Morgan vanished off to somewhere, which was also about how Alanna remembered being a teenager and having to do landscaping work. It was when Keeka came by and handed Arrush a water bottle that Alanna actually stopped to take a break. She loved the strength she had, but you could only move so much concrete before you wanted to do something else. When Keeka had gone to hand her one of the plastic bottles too, he¡¯d seemed to notice who she was for the first time since she¡¯d gotten here. ¡°O-oh. Hello?¡± Was the first thing he said, in the slightly chittering voice he had. ¡°Hey!¡± Alanna grinned back. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen ya in a while. Also thanks.¡± She titled her head back and rapidly drained the contents of the bottle. When Alanna looked back down, though, Keeka had vanished. She gave Arrush a confused look, and he silently pointed a small arm to the other side of the courtyard where the other ratroach was being dragged away by Ava and another young boy. ¡°Uh¡­ is he being kidnapped?¡± She asked. Arrush started to talk, then sneezed violently at the dust in the air, before coughing his throat clear. ¡°We have been adopted.¡± He answered. ¡°Wat.¡± Alanna cocked her eyebrows. ¡°I mean, that¡¯s cool, but that doesn¡¯t actually answer the kidnapping thing.¡± Arrush made a clicking noise that might have been a laugh. ¡°Ah. No. Ava heard us say how old we were. She declared herself our¡­ big sister.¡± The ratroach rose up from his curled crouch, and Alanna was reminded suddenly that he was one of the few people here actually as tall as she was. ¡°She is collecting siblings.¡± ¡°That¡¯s adorable.¡± Alanna informed him in a stoic voice. ¡°What does that mean, though?¡± ¡°That Keeka can avoid moving rocks.¡± Arrush answered with a grin. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not special!¡± Alanna threw her arms up, and then instantly regretted it as she saw Arrush flinch. She made a mental note to be a little less extra around him. ¡°Anesh isn¡¯t actually helping, and he¡¯s just talking to someone about spaceships. Also, just to check, you know you don¡¯t have to be here or anything, right?¡± ¡°It¡¯s calming.¡± Arrush answered. ¡°I like¡­ plants. This place needs more plants.¡± ¡°Good enough for me.¡± The two of them got back to it, and in another twenty minutes, had cleared about as much of the strip of space as the other ten people who were breaking it up had combined. They took a short break as someone with a blue power smoothed out the bottom, and Mars ran a length of irrigation hose along it, the pair falling into comfortable silence as they rested by leaning on one of the benches around the central statue instead of sitting on it. After the whole thing was set up, and someone had put the teenagers to work sweeping up the concrete dust, and a layer of clay got magically shaped into place at the bottom, Alanna and Arrush got back to work, following Mars¡¯ instructions on laying dirt and breaking up rough edges with a gap of gravel. This was something she was good at. Not landscaping, exactly, but putting her physical body to work at a thing. Leaning into a project, and pushing until it was done. And while he was panting heavily next to her as they upended a bag of soil into the gap, Arrush seemed to be something of the same way. ¡°So hey.¡± Alanna said abruptly. ¡°Ah¡­ yes?¡± The answer was clearly taut with nervous energy. A pair of the ratroach¡¯s eyes on the left side of his triangular face pivoted toward her, though he didn¡¯t tilt his head at all. Alanna found the effect strange, but maybe that was just because she didn¡¯t hang out with him enough. ¡°You wanna come over for dinner sometime?¡± ¡°W-what?¡± Arrush paused in confusion. ¡°I¡­ what?¡± ¡°Dinner. Like, food.¡± Alanna stopped, blinked, and then slapped herself. ¡°Wow, sorry, I actually just listened to the words I was fucking saying. That was stupidly condescending. Uh, no, I mean, actually though. Come over to our place, have some pasta. You and Keeka, really.¡± She leaned over conspiratorially. ¡°We can use it as an excuse to get James to make garlic bread.¡± Arrush perked up. ¡°I like garlic bread.¡± He offered. ¡°But¡­ are you sure?¡± The first part of the answer was welcome because Alanna hadn¡¯t been sure if ratroaches could eat garlic. That seemed like the kind of cruel allergy the Akashic Sewer would spin up in its creations. ¡°Oh, yeah. I mean, okay, look. You¡¯ve got a massive crush on my boyfriend, and-¡° ¡°I don¡¯t want-!¡± Arrush started to say. Alanna held up a hand and rolled over him in the conversation. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Like, I¡¯m not kidding, man. It¡¯s cool. I don¡¯t have a clue what I¡¯m doing in this relationship, so things being weirder isn¡¯t gonna make me mad. I¡¯m looking at this as a thing where everyone can be happier, you know?¡± ¡°How¡­ so?¡± Arrush slowly asked, a pair of claws scratching nervously down his left arm. ¡°What do you¡­ want?¡± ¡°I want garlic bread.¡± Alanna said. ¡°I want James to stop stressing about shit. And I kinda want more friends, and you seem cool. I feel like I can get a three-for-one here.¡± She shrugged idly. ¡°Also I already think it¡¯s hot when James and Anesh are fooling around, so this seems like a great idea, and I realize that sounded sarcastic but I swear I actually mean it.¡± Arrush slowly slit open another bag of dirt with his claws, and kicked it forward to add to their section. ¡°You are very¡­ um¡­¡± He tried to think of the word he was looking for, without saying anything that might upset Alanna. Then he realized that the word he was looking for was because Alanna wouldn¡¯t be upset by him being honest. ¡°Strong?¡± He said. ¡°No¡­¡± ¡°Well hey, I¡¯m a little strong.¡± Alanna protested. ¡°But I know what you¡¯re trying to say. I¡¯m trying this thing where I just say what I want and try not to be a dick to people. It¡¯s working out.¡± ¡°You want to be friends?¡± Arrush realized he¡¯d slipped into Spanish, and repeated it in case Alanna didn¡¯t know the second language he¡¯d been made with. ¡°Sure, why not?¡± Alanna asked with a shrug. ¡°You¡¯re easy to get along with. We can go on jogs together and no one will try to bully us out of fear of our combined physique.¡± Arrush gave a hissing sound of amusement. ¡°I don¡¯t think¡­ that is as good as you think it is.¡± He said. ¡°I understand though.¡± He leaned back, balancing on the heels of his curved paws. ¡°Can I¡­ ask a thing?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± Alanna looked down the trench they were working on. They were about halfway done, and at the other end, Mars was guiding a few people in how to space out the bamboo stalks and the other assorted seed they had for this project. ¡°Do you¡­ have therapy?¡± Arrush sounded more cautious about this than anything else so far. ¡°Oh, heck yeah.¡± Alanna snorted a laugh. ¡°Man, you would not believe¡­ well, actually, you probably would. Yeah. I only do once a month these days, but Lua was a massive help. Not just because of the whole ¡®trauma of nearly dying¡¯ thing, or any other dungeon bullshit. But, like¡­ I¡¯m thirty-ish years old depending on how many extra days I¡¯ve added with the delves, and I had issues I didn¡¯t even know I could ask for help on. I¡¯ve had decades of building up problems and thinking it was normal. Fucking hell, just talking to someone about my mom was a massive relief. I mean, like, James and Anesh knew. Sarah too, I guess. But someone new, you know?¡± She looked over at Arrush and winced. ¡°Sorry, this might be oversharing.¡± ¡°N-no!¡± He waved several of his arms at her. ¡°I don¡¯t mind. I have been¡­ putting it off.¡± ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s easy to do, huh?¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°You just tell yourself you can get through this, and it¡¯ll be fine on the other side, right?¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± Arrush stared at her. ¡°How¡­?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± She shrugged at him. ¡°It won¡¯t be. There¡¯s no other side. There¡¯s just more bullshit. Therapists aren¡¯t all good, and therapy isn¡¯t some magical cure-all, don¡¯t get me wrong. But it¡¯s better than the alternative.¡± Arrush nodded slowly, scratching a claw along the chitin of his neck. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem. So, hey, I didn¡¯t get an answer on dinner!¡± Alanna prompted. She wouldn¡¯t get an answer, either. Because news traveled fast in the Order, and news chose that moment to interrupt their conversation. Something had happened. James was gone, Alex had said something about a whole building going with him. Things had started moving, but it wasn¡¯t much of a surprise when JP ran into the room and started grabbing people for something. Alanna had given Anesh a kiss, and an understanding goodbye. Arrush had said a soft hiss of words to Keeka and given the smaller ratroach a similar tender embrace before he¡¯d pulled away as well. And then she and Arrush had headed to the armory to down exercise potions, strap on armor, and prepare for alternately a rescue or a revenge. One way or another, they would have something to do soon. ¡°I hate this part.¡± Anesh muttered, watching Alanna leave. ¡°Yes¡­¡± Keeka hissed from right next to his elbow. Anesh would be lying if he said he wasn¡¯t a little startled. Hell, he practically jumped out of his skin. Unlike a lot of the Order, he didn¡¯t actually spend time around the ratroaches that often, but more relevant was that Keeka had just snuck up on him from what he thought was a hundred feet away without making a sound. Still, he tried not to show how much of a challenge it was to steady his breathing before he answered. ¡°Kinda surprised you aren¡¯t going too, actually.¡± ¡°Because I am dangerous?¡± Keeka asked, shrinking back, his spine curving as he started to curl in on himself. ¡°No, I¡­ oh, bollocks. I guess that was what I was thinking.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Or I wasn¡¯t thinking at all. I¡¯ve seen Arrush doing martial arts or something with Karen, and I kind of assumed you did too. I apologize.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ want it. Don¡¯t want to fight.¡± Keeka peered up at Anesh, claws balling up and stretching the fabric of his skirt and sweatshirt. ¡°But also don¡¯t like this part.¡± ¡°If it helps you feel better, I don¡¯t like fighting much either.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ oh, whatever we¡¯re calling what James is. I¡¯ve purposefully sat out more heroics than I¡¯ve been a part of.¡± He sighed. ¡°I can say, more confidently than most people, that I¡¯m very mortal. This stuff scares me.¡± ¡°Also scared.¡± Keeka slowly agreed. ¡°But also guilty. I want to¡­ help. But I don¡¯t¡­¡± He waved some of his arms in a loop, searching for the word he didn¡¯t have on the tip of his long tongue. Anesh filled in the gap. ¡°Want to get shot?¡± He asked. ¡°Well hey. I¡¯m going down to Research to go through our boxes and boxes and boxes of badly sorted magical nonsense for some kind of ¡®solve the problem¡¯ button. Want to come help?¡± ¡°Really?¡± Keeka drew out the ¡®r¡¯, his voice a confused squeak. ¡°If nothing else, you can help me find my way around.¡± Anesh offered as he started moving, waving to Mars and motioning Keeka to follow after him. ¡°I know you¡¯re at least one of the people who lurks on the overhead pipes down there. And you never seem lost.¡± Keeka defiantly raised his snout up into the air. ¡°It¡¯s quiet there.¡± He defended himself as he followed Anesh into the basements. ______ It had been unfortunate chance and a stupid misunderstanding on his part that led to Myles having teleported back into the Lair after an outbreak of some kind of wizard plague. He didn¡¯t know what everyone else was going to call it, but he was gonna stick with wizard plague. Unlike most members of the Order, Myles didn¡¯t have a magical immune system booster. He didn¡¯t have any purple effects, actually. Or any magic at all. He was a completely mundane human being. Well, a mundane human being who was almost qualified to be hired by the FBI for one of a half dozen roles. But that was all personal skill, and being taught by people who had real experience and magical knowledge injected into their skulls. The point was, he wasn¡¯t a camraconda, and therefore immune, and he wasn¡¯t enhanced, and therefore durable. He was unconscious for fifteen minutes, tops, before he was back on his feet, and his long running attempt to be someone invisible to magical radar was shattered. Two skill points. Well. At least he knew it was real now. And he was in it. ¡°Where¡¯s JP?¡± He asked Ben as he strode into the warehouse. The place was worryingly empty, for the whole Order starting to mobilize. Ben didn¡¯t look up from his laptop, just pointed an arm wrapped in bandages over to a couch where JP was passed out and writhing in a feverish delirium. ¡°Why¡¯s he¡­ still unconscious?¡± ¡°No idea. Why aren¡¯t you?¡± Ben glanced behind himself, sniffing suddenly at something, before looking back at his work. ¡°I¡¯m a healthy guy.¡± Myles said, picking at one of the holes in his arms. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t do that. The scratching. Wow, stop, please.¡± Ben looked disgusted by Myles¡¯ continued prodding at his wounds, even as he tried to focus his vision on his laptop screen. ¡°Here.¡± He pitched a roll of gauze at him. While Myles tried to wrap up his forearms, Ben continued. ¡°It seems to hit everyone a little differently, but so far, no fatalities. It probably helps that the people who we have with immune disorders or other similar conditions just don¡¯t work in this building. But it¡¯s suspicious.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a wizard plague.¡± Myles said, not bothering to explain. ¡°Where¡¯s Nate?¡± ¡°Indiana. Looking for someone.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s Yin?¡± ¡°Indiana, being looked for.¡± ¡°Did I piss you off or something?¡± Myles asked suddenly. ¡°You seem like you¡¯re pissed at me.¡± Ben flicked cold blue eyes up at the other rogue. ¡°It¡¯s been a stressful day.¡± He said. ¡°What are you here for?¡± ¡°I heard the big boss was missing, thought I¡¯d come by, then ruined my resume.¡± He held up a forearm and pointed at the awkward bandage job. ¡°Also I can safely report that the warehouse¡­ the one in New York, the abandoned one, in whatever the east part of Queens is called¡­ that warehouse. Anyway, I can tell you there is no chance a pillar is using it for anything. No one else, either.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Ben raised his eyebrows and actually looked up at Myles fully. ¡°That¡¯s bizarre, but good I supp- what the fuck happened to you?¡± Myles looked down at himself at the question. He looked mostly fine, but he was only just noticing that one of his pant legs was charred and crumbling. Which was probably also why that leg hurt. ¡°Wha- is that what the smoke smell is?! Are you on fire?!¡± Ben hopped over the desk in an honestly impressive one handed maneuver that Myles didn¡¯t think he could pull off even now, in the best shape he¡¯d ever been in, and rushed him. ¡°I actually feel fine.¡± He said as Ben started checking him for burns. ¡°Look, it¡¯s fine. I just had a thing I wanted to talk about.¡± ¡°What the fuck happened to you?!¡± ¡°There was a fire.¡± Myles said. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve been catching up on this thing with James¡­¡± Ben stopped trying to rip his pants any worse than they already had been, and looked up at him. ¡°You burned down the warehouse, didn¡¯t you? Is this you trying to deflect?¡± ¡°No.¡± Myles said. ¡°Look, I¡¯m here now, I wanna help.¡± Ben glared at him. ¡°Everyone wants to help.¡± He said abruptly. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯re running out of options. We can¡¯t make a magic item that gets us there without an address, because Officium Mundi magic seems to give more of a shit about bureaucratic categorization than doing what we want it to. We can¡¯t find the entrance unless, and I¡¯m quoting Reed here, ¡®we are okay stabbing six or seven people in the neck¡¯. And we just¡­ ugh.¡± ¡°Do we know that James is even still alive?¡± Myles asked. ¡°Because he told me a month ago that if he dies I have to fight the other candidates to take his job.¡± Ben scowled at him. ¡°Stop fucking making jokes.¡± He snapped out. ¡°But yes, he is alive. We actually know exactly where Zhu is. Well, Speaker does.¡± ¡°We just can¡¯t get there.¡± Myles nodded. ¡°Yeah. Because no version of the telepads works? We checked the ones Anesh made, right?¡± ¡°And a new iteration someone in Research made. It¡¯s the same thing as how they don¡¯t work inside the Akashic Sewer. I think they only technically work in the Office because it¡¯s categorized itself.¡± Myles nodded, and refrained from saying something about how lewd ¡®categorized itself¡¯ sounded. ¡°So, teleporters from the Office don¡¯t work.¡± ¡°All our teleporters are from the Office, which is a problem. Are you sure you¡¯re okay? You didn¡¯t get hit in the head?¡± Ben moved a finger slowly back and forth in front of Myles¡¯ face. ¡°I have an idea.¡± Ben stopped, and looked at the deadly serious glint in Myles¡¯ eyes. The utter conviction behind those four words, especially here, was terrifying. Slowly, he lowered his hand. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± ¡°We know where one is.¡± Myles said. ¡°A teleporter that isn¡¯t from the Office. Maybe it won¡¯t work. But we can try.¡± He shrugged. ¡°All we have to do is take it.¡± He shifted his stance, and faced the far side of the briefing warehouse. Not the side that delvers used to plan, but the side the rogues used to track targets and compile intel. The side with the big board of everything about the New York situation. And the smaller board with everything about a small terrorist camp in the Alaskan wilderness. ¡°Oh.¡± Ben said. ¡°Yeah.¡± Myles nodded. ¡°We should probably wait until this stupid wizard plague isn¡¯t in the air though.¡± Ben clapped a hand on Myles shoulder, fingers cold and sharp. ¡°I¡¯m going to make a call.¡± He said. ¡°Thanks.¡± The mimic turned to return to his desk, pulling a phone out of his pocket before he shot one last look at Myles. ¡°I¡¯ll get this set up. You maybe go clean up.¡± He said. ¡°You smell like a chemical fire.¡± Chapter 230 ¡°Another persistent rumor is that Jesus died and came back to life. Given this (and the fact that he has only been referenced in dialogue, never established in person) he may simply be a metaphor for Optimus Prime¡± -Transformers Wiki entry for Jesus- _____ ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡± Johns asked, holding the small crystal James had handed him like it was a live grenade. ¡°Is it going to kill me? Wait, is it going to kill me?¡± ¡°You know as much as I do.¡± James said, and winced as Johns just tipped his hands and let the crystal drop to the dirt. James was trying to wring the water out of his socks, and failing. Briefly he wondered if his ability to generate electrical current on his skin would let him dry them faster, and then decided he¡¯d rather settle for wet socks than risk setting them on fire or something worse. His day hadn¡¯t been going well anyway, and adding being soaked to his growing list of conditions had left him in a sour mood. That, and Harlan. Harlan hadn¡¯t said anything on the walk back. Not that James had really tried to make conversation, though Zhu had made a couple attempts at getting a response from them. It didn¡¯t work; the mercenary was back to being stoic. Not just stoic, silent. Regularly, they¡¯d make motions as if they were grabbing for something that wasn¡¯t there, looking for a notepad they didn¡¯t have any longer. Part of James wondered exactly how much of their personality Harlan had offloaded to a flowchart and a series of single page dossiers on people. The rest of him wondered how the everloving fuck Harlan managed to need enough bullets that they were reduced to this state in the first place. He could just ask, he supposed, but now didn¡¯t seem like the time. Maybe there never would be a time. That seemed to happen to him a lot. There were so many things he hadn¡¯t gotten answers for, or seen the conclusion of. He still didn¡¯t know if the company he¡¯d worked for sometime that felt like between one and a thousand years ago had actually known about the dungeon. And there were so many magical superpower interactions he had yet to exploit. He had ideas, and the thought of dying here without getting to start really messing with the status quo was annoying. James was past being afraid of dying. Sort of. He was still afraid, but he walled off that fear with a shell of bitter irony. Which was surprisingly effective. ¡°Are you¡­ okay? You listening?¡± Johns¡¯ voice reached him. Blinking as he looked up, a sock hanging loosely in his hand, James stared at the EMT. ¡°What? No.¡± He said honestly. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Harlan and I cleared a house out, and we should get everyone moving there. It¡¯ll be safer than here is gonna be.¡± ¡°Here¡¯s out of the way, and safe.¡± Johns protested. He kept his voice low though; a few of the others were still sleeping, or at least pretending. ¡°You don¡¯t even know what out of the way means, in a place like this.¡± Zhu sounded as tired as James felt; the navigator wasn¡¯t waterproof, and was still somewhat soggy, not willing to give up his manifestation out of worry that he wouldn¡¯t be able to recreate it anytime soon. ¡°The rest stop is closing. We need to go.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll help wake everyone up.¡± James offered, tugging his sock back on with the feeling of cold wet cloth scraping his skin. A hand on the park bench pulled him upright, and he had the sudden thought that they might be the first humans to ever sit on these benches, ever. It didn¡¯t seem likely that anyone else had gotten this deep into the place. Or maybe this wasn¡¯t deep at all. Maybe they¡¯d been sitting near the exit the whole time. [Survivor : Low : +1 Skill Point] He didn¡¯t even want to know what that was for. It was probably related to the pain in his knees, but the more he thought about it, the more James wasn¡¯t sure if his knees had always hurt and he was only just now acknowledging it because it was either that or get Super Cancer again. It didn¡¯t matter. He had people to wake up. Sienna and Zari were napping on a bench, the skinnier girl laying on her friend¡¯s lap, though they¡¯d both managed to fall asleep. Sienna woke at his touch on her shoulder with a panicked gasp that set James¡¯ heart racing, and Zari jerked awake at the sudden movement. The tattoo tiger, which Harlan still hadn¡¯t actually recalled, made a comforting rumble from under the bench where it was hiding. He told them all what was gonna happen, and to sit for a while longer while he woke the others. Have some juice, try to get ready, even with the leg injuries. Aurelio was already awake and James suspected he¡¯d only been pretending to sleep. He had dark rings under his eyes behind his glasses, and he was busy picking bits of dirt out of his scarf. He didn¡¯t have much to say about having to walk farther, just glared at James. But despite the aloof attitude, he was still keeping an eye on Mauro, who didn¡¯t look like he¡¯d recovered from cracking his head on the edge of one of the benches. James made sure they had something to eat, lightening their remaining pack of food further. The last member of the group, the nameless man who still had James¡¯ gun, got to keep the gun and get told that he wasn¡¯t going to have a chance to rotate out for a nap. He made a comment about being in hell, and James didn¡¯t bother to come up with a snarky reply; just handed him one of the small juice bottles, and moved on. Not that there was anyone to move on to. Six people. Out of over twenty, at the start. Granted, he¡¯d teleported a handful of the most vulnerable out early. But that still gave this place about a fifty percent survival rate so far. James had hauled the asses of fifty people, give or take, out of miles of travel through Officium Mundi, and they hadn¡¯t lost anyone. He¡¯d thought it was because he was just¡­ competent. But now, it seemed more like it was because the dungeons just hadn¡¯t cared enough to murder him on a whim. It wasn¡¯t a great thought. But he wasn¡¯t in a great place right now. Emotionally, or geographically. ¡°Movement. Three ¡®o clock high.¡± Harlan¡¯s voice got James¡¯ attention. Their voice was¡­ not monotone or robotic, Harlan wasn¡¯t some kind of tabula rasa golem or anything. But there was a lot that had been there that was¡­ gone now. Or pushed back down below the surface. Warmth and comradery, or at least what passed for them with Harlan, were hidden away again, and kept away from the stranger James had become. He wanted to complain, but instead he took too long trying to figure out what his three o¡¯ clock was, and then check it. It was the hill behind them, where the asphalt path rose up. It still looked painfully familiar to a place he¡¯d known as a kid, and James kept expecting to see blackberry bushes and cattails around the edge of it, instead of just dirt and dead grass. It was dark at the top. ¡°What¡¯re you seeing?¡± He asked Harlan, wondering if he should have taken his gun back. ¡°Movement.¡± Harlan repeated in a voice like they were annoyed to be asked. ¡°I can¡¯t see in the dark.¡± They opted not to add the ¡®you fucking idiot¡¯ to the end, but James heard it anyway. ¡°You can see better than anyone else here.¡± James reminded them, playing the part of the guy who knew about Harlan¡¯s past. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Let¡¯s get moving. Everyone¡¯s up, and the wind is picking up. I don¡¯t want to be here when the mist leaves us.¡± It didn¡¯t take long to get them set to move. Harlan¡¯s tiger got harnessed to the little cart they had again, to pull Zari along with them as the girl had taken the lead on ¡®worst leg injury¡¯. James felt the perverse need to make a comment about how between her ankle, the walking religious crisis¡¯s knee, and Sienna¡¯s thigh and hip, they¡¯d completed the bonus objective of having one full leg destroyed. He suppressed that urge as he set Harlan to take point, made sure Aurelio was good helping Sienna walk with them. James took the rear behind the staggering, exhausted, and injured batch of survivors. If anyone came after them, he was pretty sure he could just hit it with the magic hammer hard enough to deal with it. And if that didn¡¯t work, he could probably survive long enough for Harlan to shoot it. ¡°So, what does that do?¡± Johns asked as they started moving, pointing to the crystal that James had picked up out of the dirt. ¡°Did you try it yet? ¡°No, I¡¯m hesitant since every time I use a new magic I end up stuck with something silly. Like, did you know if I eat enough apples it spawns saffron?¡± ¡°¡­what?¡± James forced his legs to move, and felt the pain and exhaustion get sidelined as his Endurance took over. It still sucked, but he knew he could keep pushing for a long time like this. ¡°Exactly.¡± He told Johns, tossing the crystal and having it snatched out of the air by Zhu, who then repeated the gesture with him. ¡°What. It¡¯s a stupid power, and I wanted one of the better ones.¡± ¡°One of our researchers spawns server hardware. His boyfriend creates more boyfriends.¡± Zhu supplied in a weary voice. The EMT got that look on his face that humans had when they were getting really pissed off that they couldn¡¯t figure something out and felt like someone was withholding answers. ¡°What the fuck does this have to do with that?¡± Johns asked with that low level anger in his words. ¡°I don¡¯t want to put fifteen skill points into this thing, and learn that I only get to do it once, and it locks me into being good at scooping ice cream or something with no choice to use more in the future.¡± James explained. ¡°Not all our magic is like that, but enough is that I¡¯m hesitant.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll test it.¡± Johns offered suddenly. ¡°What, really?¡± James glanced over, their conversation the only noise nearby that wasn¡¯t the wind, the squeak of the cart¡¯s wheels, or the noise of everyone walking. They were going slow, and he kept having to limit his own walking speed to stay at the back. ¡°You asked if it was gonna kill you earlier.¡± ¡°If it isn¡¯t gonna kill me, who wouldn¡¯t want magic?¡± Johns asked with a shrug that he¡¯d never admit was embarrassed. James gnawed at his lip. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised.¡± He grumbled. ¡°But sure. It¡¯s not a secret or anything. Here.¡± He tossed the crystal over to the other man, who fumbled it to the asphalt with a clinking sound that had James wincing again. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°My hands hurt.¡± Johns defended himself as he paused to bend down and grab it. ¡°So, what do I do, just¡­ oh.¡± He wanted to ask about it, but James put that on hold to keep an eye on the fence to their right. Across thirty feet of dead dirt, barely visible through the mist that kept them from seeing very far at all, a swirl in the breeze had brought a fresh bloom of sickly floral scent, and taken a chunk of the light away from the barrier between them and the endless houses they were walking behind. His grip tightened on the hammer in his hands. It weighed nothing, and yet still felt too heavy. James abruptly became aware of the pounding of his heart and how fast his breath was coming. He paused, letting Johns keep pace with the others while he watched the patch of impenetrable night that was creeping toward them. Then another breeze smoothed some mist over it in an eddy, and revealed there was nothing there at all. James wished that he could just let a breath out and see that he was afraid of nothing. But really, he couldn¡¯t. Couldn¡¯t get complacent, couldn¡¯t let himself not be ready to literally jump at shadows. Distant engine noise, from somewhere in the direction they¡¯d come from, made him shake himself back to attention, and catch up with the others. ¡°Alright. What¡¯d you get?¡± He took the crystal back from Johns and pocketed it, ignoring the rock¡¯s offer to take his skill points. ¡°Uh¡­ nothing for the first two, and then when I gave it my last point, it¡­ I guess I leveled up in card tricks?¡± ¡°How did it phrase it?¡± James asked, curious. ¡°Plus one skill rank?¡± Johns was looking at the back of one of his hands. ¡°Is that normal?¡± ¡°Weirdly yes.¡± Zhu mused from James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Do you think it might overlap?¡± ¡°It could.¡± James slowed to a stop as they waited for Harlan to give an all clear from where they were taking a fork in the path, and heading to where he and the mercenary had swept one of the houses earlier. ¡°That¡¯s kind of a weak prize though.¡± Johns looked excited, though. ¡°Sure, sure, but what if you found one of these for¡­ heck, man, anything useful. Survive a cold, skip a term of college? Seems like a good deal to me. I wish I had more points to give it though.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± James had been about to say that they probably wouldn¡¯t be exploiting this place. But that was¡­ probably not true, was it? At the very least, the Order would be finding it and trying to get him out. They were going to have more than a few of these crystals, probably. ¡°Wait, hang on. More points?¡± ¡°It can keep taking more.¡± Johns said. ¡°I think. I only had three though. You said you had fifteen?¡± James shifted the sledgehammer to his other hand so he could wipe his palm on the edge of his shirt. ¡°I¡¯ve been shooting a lot of things.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t need five ranks in card tricks though. Although five¡­ if it is the same as what I¡¯m familiar with, that¡¯s gonna put you at ¡®get a gig in Vegas¡¯ levels. You¡¯re right, if we can find something useful, this is¡­ well, still a bad trade.¡± James couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the casualties needed for this. Johns didn¡¯t seem bothered. Or if he was, he hid it. Maybe he was just more used to seeing people die than James was, working in an ambulance as he did. But still. James had skill ranks in cooking, in driving, in a handful of martial arts or weapon skills, in talking. How long would it take to find a skill crystal that would give something useful? How many fewer injuries would he have incurred in his career as a fledgling hero if he¡¯d been able to choose what he got better at, instead of having to take what he got from orbs and learn the rest on the fly or in his spare time? Sometimes dungeons were dangerous. That didn¡¯t mean the Order didn¡¯t find a use for them. He kept quiet as they moved, their walking pace far slower than it had been ¡®yesterday¡¯, but still making progress. Keeping ahead of whatever esoteric and unknown danger was out there. Hopefully. James didn¡¯t pick up the conversation until he noticed one of the men ahead of them stumble. ¡°You should go check on Mauro.¡± He told Johns. The EMT didn¡¯t make eye contact. ¡°You say that like you think checking on him is gonna do anything.¡± He waited for James to say something, and when no answer was forthcoming, continued. ¡°He shouldn¡¯t be walking. None of us should, actually, but him most of all. And yeah, I get it, your ghost friend says if we stay put we¡¯re in trouble, sure. I believe you. But that doesn¡¯t mean that I can do anything about hemorrhaging. He¡¯ll be okay, or he won¡¯t, and there¡¯s¡­ I can¡¯t fix that.¡± ¡°I know.¡± James said quietly. Johns sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll go check on him.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± They kept moving, with the old cart that Zari was on ending up near the back of the line after Johns sped up to pass her and her tiger-driven chariot. James gave her a smile he hoped was reassuring, as he once again paused to sweep his vision over the rolling path behind them. The girl surprised him by talking, even though her voice betrayed the tremendous amount of pain she was in. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make anyone feel better when we can hear you, you know.¡± She sounded almost angry, though James didn¡¯t hold it against her. ¡°It¡¯s not for you.¡± He said simply. ¡°It¡¯s for him.¡± ¡°He¡¯s gonna die, isn¡¯t he?¡± The way Zari said it, it was like she was trying to sound stoic, though she utterly failed. It didn¡¯t help that one hand was clawing at one of the battered couch cushions they¡¯d stuck on the cart, nervously scratching at the material as she spoke. James felt his face twist into a nervous smile, and hated how grinning at things seemed to be his default way to handle stress. It was all fine when he laughed at people who were trying to kill him, but this wasn¡¯t the time for this particular reaction. ¡°He could be fine.¡± He said, honestly. ¡°Hell, Aurelio didn¡¯t die, and he breathed in sewer gas, so, hey. Anything¡¯s possible. Mauro might just have a bad concussion. Fuck, I hope that¡¯s all he has.¡± ¡°This sucks.¡± Zari¡¯s voice cracked as she spoke, almost sobbed, the words. James took a deep breath, and regretted it as he again forgot how much it sucked to breathe too much of the air here. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said, wavering slightly. ¡°Of course it sucks. We¡¯re victims of a fucking terrorist attack, kid. Someone suicided themselves to dump us here, just to hurt one person, when really, all they had to do was ask me and I¡¯d break Harlan¡¯s ankles myself. Everything about this sucks, and I¡¯m trying to¡­ I just¡­ I¡­¡± James sucked in air, blinked away the hot feeling of tears forming in his eyes, and struggled to find words to say next. Zhu¡¯s arm on the back of his own centered him. ¡°We keep moving. We do what we can. We trust everyone else.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James said, steadying his breathing. ¡°Can I have an emotional support spirit?¡± Zari asked, the half-joke slipping out through teeth she was grinding against the pain in her shredded ankle. It caught James off guard so much, the absurdity shattered the anxiety that was clawing at him. ¡°Heh. You have a tiger! Though I guess they¡¯re Harlan¡¯s. So, yeah, sure, we¡¯ll see what we can¡­ do¡­¡± he trailed off as movement in the mist behind them caught his attention. ¡°Hey, cat.¡± He got the tiger¡¯s attention with a tap to the flank, the massive beast looking at James with a bizarrely placid face. ¡°Faster. Get the kid out of here.¡± The tiger glanced behind them, then rapidly shifted against the makeshift harness and tugged the cart forward, Zari yelping as she held onto her awkward seat. ¡°Everyone move! Incoming! Harlan!¡± James shouted a warning before he planted his feet and prepared. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Behind them, the mist swirled. It was hard to see too far away, but James could make out twisting shapes maybe sixty feet off. Close, too close, to really react to with anything but telling the others to move. They¡¯d been steadily rising in elevation as they got toward where he and Harlan had cut a hole in a fence a couple hours ago, so he at least would have the high ground here. But there was a darkness in the distance, pooling down at the bottom of the slight basin this back corridor through the neighborhoods formed, and it must have been from there that things were heading his way. James ignored the sound of an engine, and the impossibly awful sound of a child laughing from one of the nearby houses just on the other side of the fence row, as the first shape formed into something more visible. He took in details at speed as they closed in. Low to the ground, maybe coming up to his waist; he shifted his stance and the grip on the hammer to aim low. Four legs, bounding like pack animals; he focused and toggled his bracers to nails and bites, splitting his shields to the things that stopped the bulb-dogs. Numbers, three in the vanguard, more shapes still coming behind them; this was going to be tough. The first one closed enough that James could see the orange and green coloring on the pus filled bubbles that made up the dog¡¯s body. Half of them hung open, sucking in air and outputting puffs of mist as it ran, and he pivoted into a swing as the lead monster closed the gap. It was a perfect swing. An enemy that had committed to an attack would have been nailed by twenty five pounds of metal that James had sped up to an absurd degree by virtue of his arm muscles not having to worry about exactly how many pounds he was moving. By all rights, the dog should have been turned into a smear. But he missed. ¡°Fu-¡° he got half a swear out before the bulbous thing clipped him on the flank as it tore past him. His shields didn¡¯t do a damn thing, because it wasn¡¯t trying to bite him at all. It didn¡¯t even mean to hit him, it was just an accidental impact as it blitzed past. A riot of orange lines lit up his vision as Zhu caught something from the air. ¡°They¡¯re running!¡± The navigator yelled. ¡°Stand¡­ here!¡± James stumbled into the spot Zhu had demanded just as another cluster of the things ran by, these ones looking like their flesh orbs were drooping, maybe with exhaustion. ¡°Here!¡± Zhu designated another point, and James, having regained his balance, slid back just in time to be out of the way of the next batch. ¡°What the fuck.¡± He huffed. The people in their group were screaming, and a burst of gunfire sounded as Harlan and Other Guy took shots at the passing creatures, but James had acted like a rock in a river, and the stream of them had split around him. Most of the dogs didn¡¯t get close to the others, they just tore strips out of the dirt as they ran around. Which was, James decided instantly, fucking terrifying. ¡°Oh hell, what are they running from.¡± He whispered, straining his eyes to see into the mist. As it turned out, what he needed to see wasn¡¯t in the mist at all. It was in the darkness below. He caught sight of a flickering white light, like a will o wisp in the gloom, and then another one near it, bobbing up and down before winking out. In the silence that followed the stampede of bulb dogs, the humans holding their breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop, James heard a pained and wet howling yelp from below them. Followed by a sick crunch as the howl cut off. ¡°Zhu.¡± James said, staring at the darkness like he could somehow will it to disappear. ¡°Can you do the dodge lines for everyone else?¡± ¡°No.¡± The navigator said regretfully. ¡°Shit.¡± James whispered, as below them, one of the white lights reappeared. A thin slit of luminescence, visible from a distance because of its contrast, and because the mist tended to hug the ground. Then another one. Then another. The moved in fluid arcs, rising up until there were eight in total, forming two opposite crescents in the air. All of them widening to circles as they twisted back and forth. James wasn¡¯t an idiot. He¡¯d seen enough weird dungeon life to know when he was looking at eyes. ¡°How far from the house are we?¡± He whispered. ¡°Two hundred meters.¡± Zhu replied in the same hushed tone. ¡°How fast do you think that thing is?¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure we¡¯re about to find out.¡± Swearing one more time, James started backpedaling as the set of eyes turned and focused in his direction. Slipping one of his bracers to ¡®automatic¡¯ just in case it tried to kill him for looking at it, he yelled another warning for the others to start running, as the thing below them started moving. This time, James didn¡¯t ignore the engine noise. He turned and started running. The others had gotten a lead, and they were pushing through the injuries and exhaustion to do so. James caught up fast, and with a shout, got his pistol back from the guy holding it. They were almost to the spot where he¡¯d punched through the fence, and while the house didn¡¯t exactly feel like it would offer a lot of safety, at least it was a potential hiding spot if they moved fast enough. Then it was right in front of them. He veered off the path and slapped a hand against the rough wood. ¡°Go! Move!¡± He yelled, ushering the people through one by one. Harlan stood on the other side opposite him, staring with hard eyes at the thing approaching, and James couldn¡¯t stop glancing over his shoulder every two seconds. The eyes vanished as it left the darkness, and the noise of an engine grew as the thing closed on them. James supposed it would have been too much to ask that the sounds actually were illusions meant to distract or frustrate. ¡°Come on! Zari, come on, you can make this. You gotta run.¡± ¡°I know!¡± The girl snapped as she grabbed his hand and limped off the cart, the group abandoning it in the dirt as Harlan saved time by just dragging their tiger back into tattoo form. ¡°It hurts!¡± ¡°Just head for-¡° ¡°Incoming.¡± Harlan¡¯s clipped tone was punctuated as they raised their pistol and started firing past James. They got off two shots before the shape approaching out of the mist was on them. The dogs were pretty fast, but they had nothing on this thing. It was going fifty miles an hour, it had closed the gap between where this path split and where they were in under a minute, and it didn¡¯t let up as it approached. James barely had time to register the shape of it before it was threatening to kill him. It was eight feet tall, but it was huge. Stretched out to the size of a semi truck, eight headlight eyes forming a split ring at its front. It looked like it was plated like some kind of beetle, but it had a head that looked like a boxy mass of glass and metal that its eyes came off of on antenna. Radio antenna, nothing organic about those. The back of it was colored in beige and grey and blue, angular designs instantly calling to mind the patterns of camper vans and mobile homes that James had seen throughout his life. Underneath it, though, it had a semi-exposed underbelly that looked like a plexiglass tank sloshing with liquid that absolutely wasn¡¯t water. Thick metal limbs kept it upright as it rushed forward; orbs on the end of them kicking up plumes of dirt from either side of the path as they spun like some kind of tire rather than pushing it along at a run. James didn¡¯t even see if Harlan¡¯s bullets annoyed it as it snapped at him, and he just didn¡¯t have the time to react. The massive head started to close around him, and it was only a flare of light from his shield bracer that stopped it. He dropped to his knees, then went prone and rolled under the metal jaws before the bracer ran dry, and threw his hands over his head as the wheels spun past on either side. Momentum crashed it through the fence, Harlan diving out of the way and coming up on one knee still shooting. It had turned ever so slightly to get to them, and at this speed, nothing stopped it from demolishing the rotting wood like it was cardboard. The sound of the impact and the splintering wood, mixed with the roar of the thing¡¯s engine that was a lot more literal now that it was screaming it at them, almost covered up the scream that abruptly cut off as it smashed Zari into the dirt. James pulled himself to one knee next to Harlan, ignoring everything but the target. Leaving the hammer in Zhu¡¯s hand, he took aim and started trying to shoot out the thing¡¯s tires, if that was even an option. But as it braked to a stop halfway through the yard of the adjacent house and started doing an almost comedic dance to turn itself around, he realized it would still be able to walk like that anyway and just switched to hitting anything on it. Harlan¡¯s bullets took hand sized chunks out of the metal of its body, and while whatever they¡¯d given James was less effective, he at least felt like he was dealing damage to it. But the thing was the size of a truck, and when it revved its engine in a howl at them and bent its horned head down to charge back their direction, James didn¡¯t waste time before pulling himself to his feet and running for the nearest unbroken part of the fence to break its line of sight and have a chance at dodging. Opposite him, Harlan wordlessly did the same, and they were just barely quick enough before the mobile home smashed its way out through the ruined fence, sending more pieces of rotten wood flying, thrashing around as it tried to grab either of them. Behind it, James saw the other survivors struggling to keep moving. Someone had tripped, and he saw Mauro trying to drag them to their feet, but the mobile home, not having found James or Harlan, was happy to go after anyone moving. Mauro saw it. Pulled Aurelio to his feet with a yank, and shoved the kid toward the porch. Then he turned, flipped off the massive monster, and started running the other direction. ¡°Hey!¡± James yelled, emptying the rest of his magazine and swapping to another with an icy arm he brought to life as the need arose, ignoring the slight chill in the heat of battle. ¡°Over here!¡± He gestured. ¡°Harlan! House! Go!¡± The mercenary shot him a nod, and started sprinting behind the thing, hopping over Zari¡¯s unmoving body and snapping off shots at it as they went. The monster ignored them, ignored the bullets, and lunged forward at the one moving thing that was in its line of sight. Mauro saw it coming, and concussion or no, he still threw himself down trying to dodge the charge. But the thing¡¯s head opened up, and James got a good view from a new angle of the grinding machinery inside of it. This wasn¡¯t its engine, this was like some kind of nightmare processing facility. Then its jaws closed around Mauro¡¯s upper body, and ripped him in half. James would have screamed, but he didn¡¯t have the energy to spare. He had one stupid idea, and he needed this thing¡¯s attention to even try it. ¡°I have an idea.¡± He rasped at Zhu. ¡°I hate that sentence.¡± The navigator replied. He just needed its attention, and specifically, he needed it to not look at the house. Not for his idea to work, but just so it didn¡¯t kill everyone else. Harlan stopped shooting, and James took up the slack, pouring the rest of his bullets into its side, taking out divots well beyond what nine millimeter should have been able to. He tried to get his Aim to point him at weak points, but there weren¡¯t any to be found, so he just used up what he had left, then transferred the gun to his ice arm and started waving his hands. ¡°Hey! Come on! Fucking eat me, you architectural abomination!¡± He punctuated it by triggering one of his two blue orbs, Break Electronic so far having had zero use in this place, but maybe this thing had some parts he couldn¡¯t see. If it did, it didn¡¯t care about them, and the Office pseudospell splashed off it without effect, but it still turned toward James anyway, gore dripping from the seam of its mouth. ¡°I hate this plan!¡± Zhu yelled over the engine noise. ¡°Just hit it if you can.¡± James said, pushing up his sleeves and stepping back until his feet touched the path they¡¯d been walking on. A lot of people in the Order had different opinions on how to use the absorbed blue orbs from Officium Mundi. Fundamental to the process was visualization. You couldn¡¯t do what you couldn¡¯t describe, and so, to that end, people found different ways to help with the process. Speaking was common, describing the task at hand to sort out the different parts of it. Though some people thought it made them look cool to do it all silent and stoic. Those people were mostly just Momo though. James, though, was a mover. He learned by doing, and he worked best when he could be hands on. So he guided magic through gestures. He knew he didn¡¯t have to, but it helped. He was kneeling as the thing roared and charged, and James prayed to whatever non-hostile entities might be listening that it not have any ranged options. His fingertips pressed against the dungeon asphalt, and he started layering magic. Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel didn¡¯t work well if you weren¡¯t moving fast, but that didn¡¯t matter, it still added an element of improved control. He wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d need it, but no sense taking chances, and he wasn¡¯t using the Velocity for anything else. The real weapon though was Manipulate Asphalt. A magic he hadn¡¯t dared use before, just in case the dungeon took offense to it. Route Horizon certainly seemed to react whenever they used it there; instantly wrenching control of the material back and locking down areas around delvers. James might only get one use of this trick, and since if it didn¡¯t work he might just die, now seemed like a good time. He wished he had Alex¡¯s Timing power. He had a hard time judging how quickly something that could accelerate as fast as this beast would be charging him. But despite the spike of adrenaline as it rushed him and its machinery filled maw opened to try to devour him, James waited until the last second to mentally grab as much of the asphalt under his feet as he could, fling his arms up into the air, and turn it into a single sharpened spear. He ignored the feeling of something clawing its way up the magic back toward him. Momentum and perhaps a lack of intelligence carried the thing toward James anyway, and there was a screeching metal cacophony that tore at his eardrums as it impaled itself on the spike. The front set of limbs it had lashed wildly in the air as it was held just off the ground, slowly sliding down the spire James had made with a grinding squeal of materials that weren¡¯t meant to be subjected to impacts like this. It was still alive, even though he¡¯d speared it through the ¡®neck¡¯, and he and Zhu sought to rectify that. The navigator didn¡¯t have the same range of motion James did. Not that he had less, it was just different. That didn¡¯t stop him from swinging the sledgehammer upward at the exposed belly of the beast they were now crouched under the front of. The plexiglass tank - probably some kind of stomach, James found himself impossibly musing as he watched the liquefied blood and ichor in it slosh around - didn¡¯t survive the first hit. It didn¡¯t shatter, but Zhu wasn¡¯t limited to having to reset his muscles to keep moving, and instead James jutted one arm out and let Zhu windmill the hammer in a loop that continually tore new holes along the underside of the thing as it struggled to pull itself off the spear. The fluids in its underbelly gushed out, and James was soaked in the stuff in an instant, but he didn¡¯t care. He dodged to the side as one of the flailing airborne legs tried to smash him away, then grabbed onto the joint where it met the mobile home¡¯s body and started pulling himself up, all the while Zhu expending what energy he had left to snap the limb behind them with a howl of the engine and a scream of twisting metal. Gunfire sounded again, Harlan closing on the exposed rear of the creature and pouring the rest of their bullets into it, strategically blowing off legs and tires, leaving it crippled, as James found tiny handholds on the shell and hauled himself and Zhu up toward the monster¡¯s neck. A bullet tore a groove out of the hull just over his head, and James flinched back in a blink, but didn¡¯t let go. He kept pulling forward, shoving past the ache in his arm muscles to drag himself up onto it¡¯s back. The thing swiveled several of its headlight eyes around to look at them as they approached, and James tried Break Electronic again, but got no result. Zhu nailing one with a hammer worked though, not that it could do anything but look at them and thrash as James planted his feet against where the asphalt spike was poking through its frame on the top. ¡°I hope there¡¯s some kind of hell for you.¡± He spat out as he twisted himself to hold his arm out, and Zhu brought the physics-apathetic hammer down on where its head and body met. It took four hits to peel back enough of the metal that the monster¡¯s insides were exposed, and one more after that to shatter enough internal gory machinery to bring it to a motionless death. ¡°Dead.¡± Zhu gasped out, the hammer falling from his hand as his manifestation started to fade out. ¡°Five skill points, deep.¡± James caught the hammer, the weight vanishing before it crushed his foot. ¡°Get some sleep.¡± He said, before his own legs gave out and he dropped onto his ass on the back of the dead beetle-shaped mobile home. ¡°Good job.¡± He lay back, but the way the thing was shaped meant that his head didn¡¯t have any support and he just started to rapidly get a pain in his neck as he tried to recline on the slain monster. But James didn¡¯t make a move to get up. He wasn¡¯t sure he could. He barely had the energy to wipe the drying sludge from the thing¡¯s shattered underbelly tank off his face. He just sat there, alone and hurting, staring at the fake sky. Until there was a thunk from next to him, and a human hand grabbed onto one of the ridges. It didn¡¯t take long for Harlan to pull themself up. Not all the way, James was pretty sure they were standing on one of the leg joints as they popped their head over. ¡°Impressive.¡± Harlan said. ¡°Thought you were dead there.¡± ¡°Yeah, well,¡± James rasped out, ¡°that¡¯s why you call me paladin, I guess.¡± ¡°Do I?¡± ¡°Much to my chagrin, yes.¡± Harlan made a small noise of curiosity. ¡°Okay, paladin.¡± They tried it out. ¡°Yes, I see it.¡± ¡°How do you even know what a¡­ I mean with how much you delete your¡­¡± James gave up on trying to ask, and just focused on working up the energy to roll onto his shoulder so he could try to stand again. He was still working on it when Harlan spoke again. ¡°Three dead. Not a good rate. Has the whole place been like this?¡± ¡°Zhu¡¯s not dead.¡± James said, his heart still hurting for the two survivors who made it this far just to get crushed to death by this fucking thing now. He considered hitting it with the hammer again, but even weightless, it was still too heavy for him to lift at the moment. ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t mean your passenger. The medic ate it. Tripped a plague trap.¡± Harlan¡¯s voice was so¡­ careless. James had a moment of just thinking that maybe he should kill the mercenary now, while he had the opportunity. No one should ever talk about someone dying that way. The anger didn¡¯t last long though, he just didn¡¯t have the stomach for it. Instead he felt sick to his stomach as he realized that three of the six people he¡¯d been trying to save - Harlan didn¡¯t count - were gone. One tiny burst of frantic action, and half their group was dead. He¡¯d told the last iteration of Harlan that he¡¯d spend a lot of time crying when he got out of here. But now, sitting on top of the thing he and Zhu had ripped apart with blunt force, he decided to stop waiting. Hot tears formed channels down the sides of his head, dripping past his ears as he shook in silent sobs. All he¡¯d wanted, for a long time, was to be some kind of hero. James hadn¡¯t started out that way; when he¡¯d found the Office, he and Anesh had spent a while just trying to use it for their own gain. It was only when he¡¯d been freed from the looming specter of poverty that he¡¯d been able to start making proactive attempts to try to improve the world. To try to help people. Alanna had helped; hell, Alanna still did help. He couldn¡¯t do any of this without his partners. But there was a tipping point where James had gone from someone trying to survive to someone trying to be heroic. And now here he was, down to a survival rate of roughly twelve percent for people under his care - Harlan still didn¡¯t count - and he couldn¡¯t even make himself get up to check on the living or attend to the dead. Some fucking hero. James gave up on struggling to control his breathing, just letting his body¡¯s reflex to cry run its course. Harlan left at some point, but he wasn¡¯t really paying attention, and didn¡¯t care. Eventually, though, he didn¡¯t have anything left, and he knew he couldn¡¯t just lay here forever. If for no other reason than that his neck was going to hurt forever if he didn¡¯t move. He reached up a hand to wipe away the tears on his face, and also some of what was left of the blood and ichor. And felt a throbbing pain as his fingers made contact; like the ache of a loose tooth. Pulling his hand back, it came away wet, and James held the limb over his head to stare at his fingertips; specifically at the sting in the way the skin on them wasn¡¯t sitting correctly. The skin on his hands in general really. It was cracked and bleeding, and as he watched, a wet chunk of skin sloughed off entirely. It came with a cold sensation, which reminded him quite a lot of what had snaked its way into his body while he was manipulating the asphalt of the footpath. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t just murdered so many people, I¡¯d be impressed that you thought to trap magic itself here.¡± James muttered, and felt the skin of his cheek peel open as he spoke to himself. This did not feel survivable, he thought. So he slowly lowered his hand, and lay back on his awful corpse bed, and just waited. Maybe he¡¯d get a survival message. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t. He hoped Zhu would forgive him for just giving up here, but there didn¡¯t feel like a lot James could do about it. He ignored the sounds of screaming and crying and muted voices from below as the others came back out of the house and found the bodies of their friends. He just stared at the false sky and tried not to move. Which is why he noticed when he realized he was looking at blue sky and clouds. Not a lot of them, but a small disc of the space overhead had been replaced by something¡­ normal. He coughed, tasted blood as his tongue split open, and tried to yell as gently as he could. It came out as a strangled noise, but it was loud enough to get someone¡¯s attention at least. ¡°You need a hand?¡± Harlan¡¯s voice came from the side of the dead beetle where they hadn¡¯t actually left, just stopped watching James directly. ¡°G-ugh. Get everyone over here!¡± James spat out the words as fast as he could, not daring to turn his head, and instead getting a clear view as the disc of sunlight and clouds grew and spread across the fake sky overhead. ¡°Now! Go!¡± Harlan started barking commands at the others, snapping them out of their stupor and grief, or in Sienna¡¯s case just grabbing the young woman roughly by the arm and shoving her toward the dead beast. They started to notice what James had, as the alteration to the sky grew and grew, and began to come down on every side of them like walls, or a curtain being pulled shut. With the effect halfway to the ground, James dared to turn his head slightly, and saw treetops. Frantic voices below him gave away the confusion and fear of the others as they wondered what was going to try to kill them this time, and he wouldn¡¯t blame them if they thought this was the end. But James knew what it was. He¡¯d seen this before. The effect touched the ground, and he wondered if it was going to form a sphere and carve out a chunk of the dungeon, like some kind of cosmic melon baller. Maybe the place would choke on the Earth dirt shoved into it. Shouts sounded from around him. A voice amplified by a megaphone telling everyone to stay put, mixed with the noise of rushing wind. Someone asked if there was anything hostile nearby, and one of the survivors - James couldn¡¯t focus enough to place the voice - gave a negative back. He closed his eyes. He wanted to be awake to tell them their dramatic rescue was a little late. But he didn¡¯t know if he could manage it. ¡°James. James!¡± Alanna. It was Alanna talking to him. She was right next to him, too, but her voice sounded weird. He cracked an eye and saw her face, covered in a full gas mask, one eye still visibly worried under the clear material, the other covered in an eyepatch. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡± He whispered. ¡°Skin thing.¡± ¡°You¡¯re gonna be okay.¡± She said rapidly, like she was trying to convince herself more than him. He saw her pull her armored hands back, which he appreciated. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be alright, okay? Just don¡¯t fucking die, you asshole.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± he didn¡¯t know what to say. Everything hurt. His heart hurt. ¡°I knew you¡¯d¡­¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± Alanna sniffed inside her mask, before turning back to someone James couldn¡¯t see. ¡°He¡¯s up here!¡± Someone yelled something back to her, and she choked out a laugh. ¡°Of course he is! Where else would we find him?!¡± A little panic crept in at the end, and James started to wonder just how bad he looked that she was worried he was going to die. He wasn¡¯t going to die. He had too much to do. But if everyone was safe, and the rest of the Order was here to handle things, he was going to take a nap. He decided he¡¯d earned it. Twelve percent. But it wasn¡¯t zero. James closed his eyes and let the dark take him into dreamless sleep. Chapter 231 "Our friends'' hopes and dreams are etched into its body, transforming the infinite darkness into light! Unmatched in Heaven and Earth. One machine, equal to the gods!" -Simon, Tenga Toppa Gurren Lagann- _____ James woke up in a hospital bed, and was shocked to find that he didn¡¯t hurt that much. He still lay unmoving on the firm mattress, blinking his eyes sleepily against the light. No overhead fluorescents, thankfully; it was half-dark in the room, but the lights in the hall were on and the curtains over the glass walls weren¡¯t fully pulled. Before James could take inventory of his injuries or pay attention to the worming dungeon thoughts, though, he was stopped by the realization that he was strapped to the bed. Or at least, his arms were. Suddenly a lot less comfortable, he kept his eyes lidded just in case someone was watching, and started trying to figure out where he was. He didn¡¯t need to worry that much; unless he¡¯d been captured by a group who had also kidnapped half the people he knew and then put them in chairs in his hospital room, he was certainly in the Lair somewhere. Sarah was curled up in a chair asleep, her thin limbs coiled like a snake to fit inside the padded arms of the piece of furniture, her hair a scrambled mess. Beside and partly under that chair, TQ was coiled up much more like a snake, the camraconda¡¯s shallow breath causing a light twitching in his frame. Alanna seemed to have fallen asleep sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, and Arrush had done exactly the same thing, the two of them leaning against each other in a scene that looked bizarrely familiar to James for some reason. Keeka was awake, though not looking at him, the ratroach instead watching Anesh¡¯s face as he made James¡¯ boyfriend listen to something on a pair of padded headphones, with Anesh seemingly trying to decide if he was going to explain to the poor ratroach that he had no musical taste and couldn¡¯t understand what Keeka was sharing. Everyone that wasn¡¯t a camraconda had bandages wrapped around their forearms. James decided to come to Anesh¡¯s rescue. ¡°How did you convince Deb to let you all cram into this room?¡± He said softly. Well, he tried to say that. What came out was instead some kind of hoarse croak that was part gurgle, part cough. It was deeply unpleasant, and still managed to get the attention of the two people in the room who were awake. Anesh tugged the headphones off and handed them back to Keeka, the ratroach almost unthinkingly grabbing them and passing them behind his own back with one of his ancillary arms to drop them into a handbag on the floor. ¡°You¡¯re awake!¡± Anesh kept his voice low, and James felt a sudden swell in his heart as he heard the familiar accent again. ¡°Oh, hell, are you alright?¡± The words came as Anesh saw James starting to silently tear up. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± James had to try a few times to get the words out, eventually struggling in a heavy breath and letting it out slowly before he tried talking again. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m okay. Why am I tied to the bed? It¡¯s not Thursday.¡± ¡°W-what is Thursday?¡± Keeka¡¯s chittering whisper, full of earnest curiosity, got a coughing laugh from James and a deep blush from Anesh. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± James said, the words coming out a little off for some reason. ¡°So¡­¡± he rattled the straps on his arms, though hopefully not loud enough to wake anyone who had decided to nap in his hospital room. Anesh gave him a worried stare. ¡°You were clawing at your face in your sleep.¡± ¡°Right.¡± James sagged back into the bed. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not gonna now. Can I have my hands?¡± He waited while Anesh and Keeka got him free, feeling a massive release of his anxiety about being trapped as they both got one side of him out of the bindings. Keeka¡¯s enthusiasm was infectious, but James was pretty sure Deb was going to have words for the ratroach when she saw that he¡¯d punched a hole through one of the straps with a claw. ¡°Okay.¡± He sighed as he flexed his fingers. And then took inventory of how much he hurt. Shockingly, it wasn¡¯t that he¡¯d only just woken up and hadn¡¯t had time to catch up to how he was feeling. James felt¡­ generally okay. There was a stabbing ache in his shoulder where it seemed like there was still a chunk of himself missing. He¡¯d lost the tooth that had been loose at some point, which he¡¯d need to get used to, though that explained why his mouth felt weird. His left middle and ring fingers were splinted together, which meant he¡¯d absolutely run out of get-out-of-broken-bone-free charges from the purple orbs. And¡­ the rest of him felt fine. Gently, James raised a hand to his face and poked at his cheek, just under his eye. But all he felt was a cool sensation from his fingers on hot skin. A little tender - very tender actually - but no pain. Briefly, he took a moment to let the dungeon¡¯s notifications announce themselves in his brain, before he moved on to the most important thing. Well, just one notification, really. [Survivor : Abyssal : +8 Skill Points] James had a lot of questions about the Underburb¡¯s naming scheme, but he didn¡¯t feel like thinking about that shit place right now. He had one critical thing left to check. ¡°Hey, Zhu.¡± James whispered to himself. ¡°You still there?¡± He waited, but didn¡¯t get an answer. And he didn¡¯t really know how to feel for if the navigator was still in his mind; the lines between where his thoughts ended and Zhu¡¯s started was too blurred for James to just point to a single thing and know for certain. Anesh gently set a hand on James¡¯ arm. ¡°He¡¯s fine. El and Speaky gave him back his heart basically as soon as you got here. Planner¡¯s been checking in on him, and says that he¡¯s recovering, though¡­¡± he glanced back at the door with an uncomfortable expression, letting the pause stretch out. ¡°Though?¡± ¡°He thinks Planner is¡­ not a doctor.¡± Keeka chimed in. ¡°Planner isn¡¯t a doctor, and I don¡¯t mean that to be rude, but we should look into¡­¡± he trailed off, seeing James struggling to hold back a yawn. ¡°Sorry. Hey. Welcome back.¡± Anesh sheepishly shifted his hand off of James¡¯ bare arm. ¡°You looked like you had a bloody unpleasant time.¡± The statement was so absurdly under representative of what he¡¯d been through, James almost started to laugh. But no matter how unexpected it was, he couldn¡¯t so easily shake off the terror of the last couple days. ¡°It was¡­ not great.¡± He said, voice cracking. ¡°The¡­ the others. The other people I was with?¡± Anesh¡¯s face twisted into a frown. ¡°Most of them are fine. The older man didn¡¯t make it. Deb is quarantining now, but since her immune system isn¡¯t compromised, she should be okay.¡± His boyfriend held up a hand to forestall any questions. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it when you¡¯re okay. Just¡­ just rest, alright?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m awake. I¡¯m just¡­ worn out.¡± James tried to shrug. ¡°Why are all of you here anyway?¡± ¡°Wanted to be here.¡± Keeka said, nervously glancing between Anesh and James. ¡°Is¡­?¡± Anesh nodded, letting a small smile in. ¡°We wanted to make sure you were okay. I¡¯m told that this is a thing that you do for people you care about; wait in hospital rooms for them to wake up.¡± He leaned down and planted a kiss on James¡¯ cheek that stung on his skin. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay.¡± He murmured. ¡°Wait, shit, was I in a coma again?¡± James asked suddenly. ¡°No, you-¡° ¡°James?¡± The sleepy voice came from the side of the bed behind Anesh, and a second later Sarah unfurled herself to sit up on her knees in the chair she¡¯d been sleeping in. ¡°James!¡± Her voice rose excitedly, and the room came to life. There was a thunk from under her chair, and a frantic hiss, before TQ pulled himself awake and rose up to his full height next to the bed. From the floor by the door, Alanna and Arrush jolted up at the same time, awkwardly pushing off each other as they used the wall to haul themselves up. Someone flicked a light on, while Anesh stepped back and let everyone cluster around, making James feel like he was far more hemmed in than when he was strapped to the bed. ¡°You¡¯re up!¡± ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡± ¡°We were so worried about you!¡± ¡°I am glad you did not die again.¡± A wall of varied voices cascaded over each other as everyone started talking at once. James let himself get fussed over, mostly trying to hear what Sarah was saying as she rambled about how his skin had almost fallen off but that she was glad to see he wasn¡¯t dead. Something clicked in his head. ¡°Everyone¡¯s okay, right?¡± He whispered the words, but the crowd of people shut up instantly when he spoke. ¡°I¡­ there was some kind of dungeon disease¡­ and I¡­¡± he looked up at them from his hospital bed, suddenly feeling like he needed to get up very badly. ¡°You¡¯re fine.¡± Alanna said, tossing herself onto the side of the bed to give him a sideways hug. ¡°Deb stopped it from getting out of the building, and for reasons that sound made up to me, no one in the Order died.¡± She picked her words carefully, but made it sound casual enough that James didn¡¯t question it. ¡°How do you feel?¡± ¡°Yeah, are you okay? Your face melted off.¡± Sarah leaned onto his other side. ¡°It was very metallic.¡± TQ nodded, camera head bobbing over the edge of the bed. ¡°Metal.¡± Alanna corrected him. ¡°They mean the same thing. This language is stupid.¡± The digital voice somehow managed to sound pouting. James sighed out contentedly. ¡°I¡¯ve been saying that about English for a while. But I still love it.¡± He flexed his good hand again, and poked at his neck and face. ¡°I feel good, honestly. Does anyone want to tell me what the hell happened?¡± ¡°Yeah, but first, we should tell the docs that you¡¯re up.¡± At the end of the bed, Anesh squeezed at James¡¯ foot through the hospital blanket. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± He opened the door of the room and stepped out into the bright hall, looking around before heading off to the right and out of sight. And then the others, mostly Alanna, though Arrush and Sarah had bits to say as well, filled him in. After the assembled combat team that represented a worrying amount of the Order¡¯s people had confirmed they hadn¡¯t teleported anything hostile out of the dungeon, they¡¯d quickly gotten everyone into quarantine and given medical attention. James had been a bit harder, since he¡¯d been melting at the time, but they¡¯d dipped into the Order¡¯s stockpile of potions to give him repeated doses of the one that improved skin health. After the disease had failed to kill him and died off, it had rapidly been able to bring him back to a state that wasn¡¯t sloughing his outside layer off. ¡°Why am I still bandaged then?¡± He asked, peeking under the blankets to look at his legs, and also holding up his wrapped arms. ¡°Like, I was definitely bleeding. If the skin potion can fix cuts¡­¡± ¡°It can¡¯t.¡± Sarah explained. ¡°Deb said it had something to do with the nature of the injury.¡± She put air quotes around it. ¡°Your skin being out of place is fixable, your skin being ripped isn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Okay, but like¡­ my skin was ripped. I felt it. I was oozing and stuff.¡± James patiently inquired, ignoring the novel sound of a camraconda making a gagging noise when he said ¡®oozing¡¯. ¡°Soooo¡­¡± ¡°Man, I didn¡¯t make the rules for the potions.¡± Alanna threw her arms up, nearing clipping Keeka before making an apologetic motion and giving the ratroach more space. ¡°Also we should move on before Anesh gets back because he has opinions on these things.¡± Everyone who had been alive when they¡¯d teleported them out of the dungeon had lived, except for Johns, who had still been technically alive but only briefly. James had heard Harlan say something about that, but hadn¡¯t really processed it before. The man had been so close to getting out with them, and just one small slip had triggered a disease trap that had just¡­ killed him. No one even know how. James had questions, obviously. They¡¯d known where to find him because they¡¯d had Zhu¡¯s location - something that was apparently an ¡®organ¡¯ of sorts for navigators - but the method of teleporting them had been something the Order hadn¡¯t had before. And he knew that attempts at making mass teleport dungeontech had all failed. The explanation had been pretty simple. They¡¯d stolen it from the Wolfpack. The splinter faction of Harlan¡¯s people had been doing some kind of fuckery in New York again, as Alanna put it, and it hadn¡¯t been too hard to tip a bad situation over the edge and slip in and steal their teleporter. And James remembered something Harlan had said in the dungeon. ¡°Who died?¡± He asked softly. Because Harlan got kill notifications. And nine people was a hefty cost just for his stupid ass. ¡°Several other people.¡± Arrush hissed, the ratroach speaking up for the first time during the improvised debriefing. He dipped his head to look at the floor. ¡°It was¡­ bad.¡± He added, leaning into his partner as Keeka settled a pair of claws on Arrush¡¯s back. ¡°It was really bad.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°No one in the Order died, though Charlie got shot in the knee and Ann almost had a tit chopped off. We didn¡¯t do a great job of keeping the fight contained though, and the Wolfpack had¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°A disgusting lack of regard for civilian casualties.¡± TQ said flatly. ¡°Also they¡¯re really hard to put down.¡± Sarah added, her normally cheery voice not exactly matching the words she was saying at all. ¡°Mostly though, we tricked them into a fight with the police, and a security team for a real estate guy, and¡­ this doesn¡¯t matter. None of us died.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James relaxed again, wondering how long this roller coaster was going to go on for. ¡°Where is Harlan anyway? Here?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Several people looked very embarrassed, including a returning Anesh, who brought with him one of the nurses, and two more Anesh. While the nurse checked James¡¯ vitals and did a blood draw on him from an arm that had seen so much punishment that he didn¡¯t notice the pain, he got the rest of the story. They had, for safety reasons, performed the teleport in the middle of an empty lot out in Yamhill. Sarah had started to launch into a spirited explanation of how they¡¯d bought a farm for cheap because it used to be a pumpkin patch but COVID had ruined the business and it had been pretty easy to trade a lot of hard cash for the place. She¡¯d been slightly overruled on giving the entire life story of the previous owners, though. The short version was, they¡¯d had a very large gravel parking lot to work with that they could use as a buffer, and while it was still a risk that a random raccoon would carry a dungeon disease across state lines, that was already kind of a risk anyway. ¡°Raccoons would never do that.¡± Keeka had muttered. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry to tell you this, but raccoons are both adorable, and absolute filth sacks.¡± Anesh replied sadly, shaking his heads in solemn regret. Regardless of the virtue of the average trash panda, the fact remained that they¡¯d been in the middle of nowhere, with no one nearby, and expansive fields that had been left fallow for acres surrounding them. Even the main road was a half mile away. So naturally Harlan had gone completely unnoticed as they¡¯d stolen someone¡¯s cell phone, two guns, and the previously stolen teleporter, and vanished. James felt slightly guilty about the phone part, because he had reinforced his insistence that Harlan get a way to keep in contact after they were out. Even after Harlan had wiped their memories of James, he¡¯d repeated the joke at least once. The other stuff wasn¡¯t on him though. ¡°So we don¡¯t have a mass capacity teleporter that can be used to fix global logistics forever?¡± He asked. By this point in his life, James was getting used to learning that none of the magic he found would ever actually be useful on a global scale, but it still sucked every time it happened. ¡°Funny story, actually.¡± Anesh said, grinning. And then James looked around the whole room full of grins, and found he was suddenly worryingly optimistic. ¡°Did you know that their teleporter thing is in the form of a set of steel gears, with a diameter of slightly under ten inches?¡± ¡°I¡­ no. Of course I didn¡¯t know that.¡± James kept his optimism, but gave his boyfriends an incredulous look. ¡°Why would I know that?¡± ¡°I dunno, you were hanging out with Harlan for however long you were in there.¡± ¡°A day and change.¡± ¡°Okay, so, no time dilation, good to know.¡± Anesh was in the flow of conversation now. ¡°Regardless, do you know what else is ten inches in diameter?¡± ¡°I feel like at least one person in this room doesn¡¯t need to hear about our sex life, but I cannot for the life of me tell you who it is.¡± James replied instantly, and then started to wonder if whatever painkillers were in his IV had removed his conversational filter. ¡°Uh¡­ which is to say¡­¡± It was too late to stop Alanna from cracking up, Sarah from trying to suppress a grin, and the pair of ratroaches from tinting the flesh around their eyes a bright green in embarrassment. TQ just swiveled his head from person to person before focusing on James and saying ¡°It is not me.¡± And then returning to being the calmest person in the room. ¡°Anesh I love you quite madly, and this is hilarious, but I got hit in the head repeatedly. So¡­ Can you just¡­¡± The best part of Anesh having multiple bodies was that two of them could facepalm while the third one replied unimpeded. ¡°It¡¯s the copier, James. The magic overhead copy ritual. It¡¯s that. You wanker.¡± The word was said without any vitriol; despite the performative exasperation it was clear Anesh was still happy that James was back and safe. ¡°So¡­ we have¡­ teleporters?¡± James let his hopes go up even higher. They did have teleporters. They could copy them two at a time, and they didn¡¯t know the limitations yet, but Harlan had stolen an original of an item that was no longer meaningfully scarce for the Order. There was still more they needed to fill James in on, though. Almost everyone who¡¯d been in the Lair when the outbreak had happened had a skill point by now. Deb had run herself even more ragged than normal trying to manage it and figure out what was going on, especially after five of the six people James had teleported in had died. He¡¯d been even more devastated to hear that. He¡¯d thought he was giving them a chance. Though it quickly became clear that he was; at least one of them would have been dead in minutes if not for his intervention. It was just that something had been done to them that had, in Alanna¡¯s words, ¡°nuked their white blood cells¡± She hadn¡¯t had the terminology down, and so Sarah and TQ had taken over explaining that blood tests from everyone who¡¯d been sent to the dungeon had essentially been working as if they had some kind of autoimmune disease. Almost no white blood cell functionality, which was why the fatality rate for a lot of the disease was off the chart compared to a rate of zero from the Order itself. Not everyone had gotten skill points, though. A few people had never gotten the Survivor notification, and were, in fact, still infected. There was no outward sign of the disease, but they were absolutely carriers of it, and were all under quarantine until something could be sorted out. The medical information wasn¡¯t too technical, but James still noticed that it netted him a couple points in his Biology lesson. Pushing him just over a hundred points, and marginally closer to the forty two hundred he needed to secure more of the life saving Endurance upgrade. When the conversation moved on and Arrush said something about placing the dropped skill points of the dead in their grave vault, the prior information helped assuage James¡¯ confusion. He¡¯d seen someone who had survived the first round of disease die later and drop nothing. But, then, if she¡¯d been a carrier, she wouldn¡¯t have had a skill point to drop. He wasn¡¯t sure if that lined up, but his memory of the last day was muddled at best. It all felt like one big blur. The other survivors were okay though. Sienna, and Aurelio, and the man who had apparently just been named Steve after someone had checked his ID when he¡¯d been out cold in one of their hospital rooms. They were alive, even if some of them weren¡¯t doing okay at all. Sienna, especially, had watched her friend die in front of her, and hadn¡¯t stopped crying except to sleep. Which, really, James completely understood. They could have all the time they needed, now that they were out. They¡¯d taken a break when James had realized that he was starving, and needed food. Actually, less of a break, and more of a scattering of the group. TQ and Sarah had both said goodbye now that he was up, and headed out, though the camraconda had looked like he maybe wanted to linger, and James had spotted the quick hug Sarah had thrown onto Alanna before leaving. He couldn¡¯t help giving her a coy smile as she met his eye on the way out, his friend blushing before vanishing down the hall. Arrush and Keeka had also left, after getting their own awkward hugs from James. They¡¯d more or less forced themselves to stay awake, but rest was something they really needed right now. The dungeon plague hit ratroaches especially hard; the lesions it formed in arms causing ruptures in their chitin, cracks and drilled holes that were incredibly painful. They¡¯d stuck around to make sure James was okay, and when he found out how little they¡¯d slept and how much pain they were in, he¡¯d sent them away. An Anesh went with them to make sure they got home okay, with Keeka taking the opportunity to try to see if this iteration liked his musical tastes. ¡°So, are you actually okay?¡± Alanna asked after the nurse had come back to remove James¡¯ IV, make sure he didn¡¯t still have a fever or something, and tell him not to exert himself for the next week. He planned on ignoring that order already. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ fine. I feel hollow.¡± Alanna and both Anesh shifted closer to him at the words, as he tried to pull on the clothes they¡¯d brought for him from home. The slacks didn¡¯t fit him anymore, and he suddenly realized he was going to run out of clothing if he kept attritioning it to dungeon delves and not replacing it. ¡°Partly because all I had in the last two days was a muffin and some exercise potion. Partly because¡­ I dunno. It hasn¡¯t hit me yet. I almost died again. Four or five times, I guess. And everyone else died. Wow, a lot of people died.¡± The words came out steady, like he was mildly surprised and not falling apart. ¡°And I just feel¡­ eh.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not okay.¡± Anesh said softly. ¡°Nah. But I want lunch. Or¡­ dinner? What time is it?¡± ¡°Two.¡± ¡°Lunch then.¡± He nodded. ¡°Is Nate back yet?¡± ¡°No, he¡¯s still missing. The rogues are on it.¡± Alanna titled her head. ¡°Which is also worrying. We should get him a navigator so we can bail him out of trouble too, after this.¡± James nodded. ¡°Yeah, it would be a shame if I had to cook for myself.¡± Alanna and Anesh turned and gave him concerned looks before he held up his hands. ¡°That was a joke!¡± He tried to smile, and found it hard. ¡°I¡¯m kidding. I don¡¯t want¡­ ah, fuck it. I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s been a hard couple days, huh?¡± ¡°Hasn¡¯t been great.¡± Alanna said as she helped him steady himself when he rose off the bed. The tile floor was cold under his feet, but James didn¡¯t bother with socks. It was still more comfortable than any of the walking he¡¯d done in the dungeon. He almost stopped on the way out to check on the other survivors, who were still recovering in their own rooms, but Alanna set a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Give ¡®em some space.¡± She said simply, with a glance into Sienna¡¯s room at where the girl was staring at her ceiling with a vacant expression. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± James answered as they continued. He tried to change the topic as they left the hospital, and he checked out with the nurse on duty while the sandy haired man tried to remind him to maybe not do anything but sleep for a while. ¡°So, what happened to the giant thing Zhu and I killed?¡± ¡°Oh, the mobile home?¡± Anesh asked like he hadn¡¯t been waiting to deploy the pun. James shook his head. ¡°Sorry buddy, I beat you to it. It was too easy.¡± Anesh swore under his breath. ¡°But yeah, did you just leave it in our new parking lot? How long has it been, actually? A day?¡± ¡°About that. And sorta!¡± Alanna cheerfully explained as she positioned herself to cut off line of sight from the group of researchers and engineers who were watching them as they left the basement. ¡°You¡¯re gonna love this, if you don¡¯t already know.¡± She paused, like she was thinking of asking a question, then just shrugged and continued her explanation. The mobile home was full of furniture. They¡¯d considered towing it somewhere out of sight, but the Order didn¡¯t actually own any secret underground parking garages or scrapyards. So, in an effort to not have vehicle sized dead dungeon life just sitting out, even if it was in a somewhat isolated spot, they¡¯d started dismantling it. And quickly found that the mobile home thing was somewhat literal; it had a whole living room growing in its body. There were a bunch of wild theories going around, which were really more like random guesses than theories. Maybe it was the pupa form of a whole house, maybe it was how the dungeon grew its magic items, maybe it just ate furniture, maybe it ate things that were typically on furniture like people and this was like a shark not digesting larger objects it consumed. It didn¡¯t really matter, because James didn¡¯t expect to become intimately familiar with the life cycle of these things, and the real prize was that at least some of the furniture was just magic. They didn¡¯t know a lot about it yet. Which was to say, they had no idea what it did at all. They only knew it was magic at all because they¡¯d semi-accidentally broken a lamp, and gotten a skill crystal. The Order had no idea what it did, but they all knew what it meant when a broken item dropped a McGuffin. They made it upstairs, after an elevator ride where James realized that when he stopped his forward momentum and just had to stand still, he was at risk of falling over. Alanna and Anesh did too much work helping him to a table in their dining area. Alanna was in the middle of doing that thing she did where she projected an implicit threat to everyone that was watching James as he came in, when James squeezed at the arm of hers he was holding onto. ¡°Hey.¡± He said, leaning in against her and then remembering Alanna was a head taller than him and this wasn¡¯t exactly a stealthy way to whisper in her ear. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Everyone here is fine, stop looming.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t loom!¡± Alanna said indignantly, looming over James. ¡°You¡¯re literally looming right now.¡± Anesh told her. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what that word means, and I know you¡¯re doing it.¡± He helped James sit in one of the nicer chairs they¡¯d gotten before grabbing a seat nearby while his duplicate split off to head to the kitchen to grab food. ¡°So.¡± He said as Alanna sat, and tried to be less intimidating. ¡°We have some questions.¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°I do too. What¡¯s lunch?¡± James asked. ¡°Whatever I decide looks good.¡± Anesh said flatly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I trust myself.¡± Alanna suddenly turned her vision toward the hall that led into the large room, waving down someone who had just come in. ¡°Also, Sarah¡¯s here, so we may as well add her to this.¡± Sarah joined them, just as Anesh set a sandwich in front of James and took another seat. ¡°Hey! I¡¯m back!¡± Sarah said, stealing one of James¡¯ chips. ¡°You were gone for five minutes.¡± He told her. ¡°I checked in with Ben. He and JP are doing a thing, but everyone wants to hear about the new dungeon.¡± Sarah said. ¡°So I¡¯m compromising with them, and recording this!¡± ¡°Are we talking about-¡° James didn¡¯t get very far at all before he was interrupted. ¡°Yes!¡± Alanna said, leaning forward. ¡°Tell us what it¡¯s like! Tell us everything! I¡¯ve been so good, I answered all your questions, tell me about the monsterrrrrs!¡± She grabbed at James hands, only getting one as he dodged the other to toss a chip into his mouth and savor the crunch. ¡°Can I beat up a whole house?! I have to know!¡± So James started talking, and his friends and loves settled down and let him. He took pauses to eat bites of his sandwich, and it was pretty quickly obvious that the people at tables around them were listening in too, at least a little bit. Something like this was disruptive enough that the whole Order noticed, and wanted to hear what had happened, though at least the whole dining room didn¡¯t cluster around like he was on stage. James was fine with a few people eavesdropping, but he wasn¡¯t ready to actually talk to a crowd. He started at the start. He and Alex had met with Harlan, things were going okay, and they actually learned some stuff that Alex had already passed along. Then, someone had¡­ well, teleported the cafe away. ¡°We¡¯d thought you were dead.¡± Alanna had stated. ¡°Not for long; by the time I heard about it, it wasn¡¯t very long before we knew you were alive. But¡­ hey, you aren¡¯t allowed to die, okay?¡± She tried to keep the emotion out of her words, and largely failed. But no one held it against her. James continued to talk about the first few moments. Being dropped into the dark, trying to keep people from running off, the first encounter with a street lamp and one of the hedge dogs. And then realizing he had a backup telepad, and choosing six people to send out. How he¡¯d rapidly realized later that this had been a horrible idea, but that it had seemed like the only way to save them at the time. Sarah scratched at her arms as she met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°They never would have made it in the dungeon.¡± She told him. Sarah was, easily, the kindest person James knew, but her voice didn¡¯t waver as she told him what he needed to hear. ¡°You gave them a chance. And the worst case didn¡¯t happen.¡± ¡°Yeah, you made the best call possible at the time.¡± Alanna added with a shrug. ¡°Though, we should have a quarantine teleport spot, just for this kind of thing. Now we know, right?¡± James wasn¡¯t sure if he felt any better, but at least they weren¡¯t blaming him for infecting the whole building with a potentially deadly disease. He kept going, trying to skip past the part where two thirds of the people in the cafe died, and thankfully everyone mostly let him. He had to circle back to talk about losing someone to the hood hive thing, and then moved on to getting Zhu to find them a safe spot, that kept them moving through the suburbs. ¡°It¡¯s really suburbs, too.¡± James said. ¡°I feel like if I were driving through, I wouldn¡¯t notice anything was wrong. It¡¯s just houses, forever. Sometimes an empty lot. And that¡¯s it. There¡¯s gaps between neighborhoods that are just dirt with little paved walking trails, but there¡¯s nothing there.¡± He crammed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and chewed rapidly, regretting the decision but still hungry enough that he didn¡¯t regret it that much. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s also missing specific things.¡± ¡°What do you mean, ¡®it¡¯s missing things¡¯. You can¡¯t just say that.¡± Alanna challenged him. James had a list. Trees, street signs, cars - but not garages, weirdly - garbage cans, all things that should have been around. The small details that made a suburb feel like a place that at least people lived. But all completely absent from the Underburbs. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what did you just call it?¡± Alanna had a grin on her face, contrasting the somewhat spooky tone James had been talking in. ¡°Stratified Underburbs.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯ll get to why.¡± The rest of the story was pretty straightforward. Walk until they got tired or got in a fight, then rest or survive, then keep going. More monsters, more losses, more horrifying diseases. He talked about getting drowned by a swimming pool¡¯s worth of angry algae, about losing his once a year anti-cancer charge, about having aphasia and dizziness and something else inflicted on him. And then, when they¡¯d finally gotten somewhere Zhu said was safe for a bit, James had climbed a hill and nearly died just looking at something. But not before he¡¯d seen the shape of the place, laid out and beautifully horrifying in its shape. Whole tiers of neighborhood, places where the ground just gave away and houses tilted precariously toward the void, thousands of glinting distant points of orange light, massive striding figures above it all. A whole world, as big as any dungeon they¡¯d ever seen, like a layer cake of regions. ¡°Okay, yeah, that checks out.¡± Alanna agreed with his name after hearing. ¡°Wait, so, it tried to electrocute you when you looked at it?¡± ¡°Oh, right!¡± James brought his hand up to poke around his eye. ¡°My face isn¡¯t fucked up this time! Holy shit, this is so new to me. And also this time I kinda wish you guys got to see it, I had this really cool scar¡­¡± ¡°We can get you new scars.¡± Anesh patted his back from both sides. ¡°I am certain you will find a way.¡± ¡°You¡¯re probably right.¡± The moment of levity didn¡¯t last, as James took a breath, and started talking about their need to move again. Him and Harlan clearing a house, finding an actual human corpse, Harlan losing their record, bringing the others up so they¡¯d have a place to hide for a while, and then¡­ Something huge, something he couldn¡¯t save anyone from. He could fight something that size, especially with Zhu and a few tricks, but he couldn¡¯t save everyone. Maybe if he¡¯d been faster, if he¡¯d thought more clearly, if he¡¯d been fresher into the fight and not exhausted and battered. But the point remained, he wasn¡¯t. And so people died. James had watched a man get bitten in half. That wasn¡¯t something he could easily forget, and while he again didn¡¯t put a lot of detail into it, he did slide the rest of his chips over to Sarah. Who also didn¡¯t want them. And then¡­ he¡¯d just laid there and waited. To see if he¡¯d die or not. Except he didn¡¯t, and that was when the Order had carved a hole in space and plucked them out. Trading a chunk of parking lot in this world for a chunk of fake backyard and one large corpse in the dungeon. Which, it turned out, might be a great trade, if the furniture was all magical somehow. James felt like an idiot now for looking for magic items that were tools or hand portable, when of course a place that just made ten million bedrooms was going to have enchanted furniture. ¡°So, what about Harlan?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Are they new best friends?¡± ¡°No.¡± James said. ¡°Friendship with Harlan is over. Magical chair is new best friend.¡± Sarah giggled, but then waved her arms to cut off her own laugh. ¡°No, seriously, is that a meme or are you¡­ tell us about Harlan you goof.¡± She demanded. Since she asked so nicely, James complied. After the sixth time he called Harlan a callous asshole, the others started to pick up a trend in how he viewed the ambiguous mercenary. Harlan didn¡¯t care, because they didn¡¯t have any connections, because they fed their connections into their ammo so they could kill people. Apparently, they killed actual dungeon monsters that were just out in the real world, too. A fact that made James feel like the Order needed to double down on its security of the ratroach and camraconda populations. He didn¡¯t want some random outsider killing his friends and family just because they ¡°weren¡¯t supposed to be here¡±. The real problem, though, was that Harlan was obviously aware of their own condition. And it didn¡¯t take long at all before the cracks started to show. Underneath everything, there was a fundamentally vulnerable and fragile person who needed a hug, and a detox course. The problem was, that person was underneath a fucking asshole who shot all their problems. ¡°Oh!¡± James snapped his fingers as he remembered something. ¡°No one uses the memory bullets, okay? They rip chunks out of infomorphs, and I think only Myles doesn¡¯t have at least someone in their head around here.¡± ¡°Oh, he does.¡± Alanna shook her head. ¡°Poor guy got infected with the thing. Since he has a skill point now, he said there wasn¡¯t a point to trying to avoid magic, so he¡¯s been slamming back powers like it¡¯s two fifty AM at the bar and he has a quota to meet.¡± ¡°I¡­ Alanna I don¡¯t drink. Do bars close at three or something?¡± James felt his headache coming back. ¡°Actually I don¡¯t care. Good for Myles. What¡¯s Nate have to say about that?¡± ¡°Nate is¡­ still missing. Are you okay?¡± ¡°Right, shit. Sorry.¡± He rubbed at his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not feeling great.¡± James admitted. ¡°And my head hurts.¡± Sarah fidgeted in her chair. ¡°I can give you a nap?¡± She asked, starting to reach over, but waiting for James to accept it. ¡°It might help.¡± James cracked one eye open and cocked an eyebrow at her. ¡°It¡¯s two pm on a¡­ friday? You have stuff to do today, and I know it. I need to just go to bed anyway.¡± He tapped her hand away. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s not like another crisis is going to show up in the next twelve hours.¡± ¡°You fucking liar.¡± Alanna accused him. ¡°Oh! Speaking of! Anesh, do you have the thing?¡± She perked up excitedly as Anesh nodded and set a case one of him had been carrying around on the table. ¡°So!¡± Alanna pointed at James. ¡°We love you, a lot.¡± ¡°Why does this sound like a threat?¡± James asked, glancing at Sarah. ¡°Do you also love me a lot? Is this how my relationship is ballooning out of control today?¡± ¡°I do, but not like that.¡± She gave him a lopsided grin. ¡°Your relationship gets to go off the rails in totally different ways.¡± ¡°Sure. Alanna, continue.¡± James made a sweeping gesture with a hand as a sort of apology for interrupting. His partner nodded at him regally. ¡°Yes, well, it was a threat, I¡¯ve decided.¡± She said. ¡°Anyway. You need to stop nearly dying. So we¡¯ve prepared a care package.¡± Alanna scooted her chair over next to Anesh, bumping her shoulder lightly into her boyfriend before starting to pull stuff out of the box. ¡°And as soon as you¡¯re better, we¡¯re going to actually work out a training plan that gets you used to using all of this, got it?¡± She said as she set a trio of plastic baggies filled with paper scraps down, and then added a relationstick on top. It was actually kind of surprising to everyone when James just nodded once, his face settling into a determined frown, and said ¡°Yeah. I agree.¡± Alanna paused in trying to pile orbs in a way that didn¡¯t roll off the table. ¡°You really aren¡¯t okay.¡± She stated. ¡°Not yet.¡± James said. ¡°So, what do you have for me?¡± <| Connection Open : James Lyle - Alanna Byrne : One Corridor Established : One Corridor Empty |> <| Connection Open : James Lyle - Anesh Patel : Two Corridors Established : One Corridor Empty : One Corridor (Speed) |> <| Connection Open : James Lyle - Sarah Moyle : Two Corridors Established : One Corridor Empty : One Corridor (Rest) |> The first batch of relationsticks went to the people around him, and James was positive that they¡¯d have them opened fully within a week or two. There were a handful of the things that Alanna and Sarah had each added to the pile, that he was told to actually make use of this time, and James didn¡¯t protest. He had a few people in mind for later already. [+1 Skill Rank : Medical - First Aid - Splints] [+1 Skill Rank : Athletics - Breath Control] [+1.7 Skill Ranks : Athletics - Martial Arts - Kickboxing] [+1 Skill Rank : History - Organizations - NBA] [+2 Skill Ranks : Bureaucracy - Documentation - Forgery] [+1 Skill Rank : Dogs] ¡°One of those is just a random size two we didn¡¯t have space to copy, but figured we¡¯d give to you anyway.¡± Alanna explained. ¡°One is for fun. The others are¡­¡± Her voice faded out as James found himself face to face with the Teacher-thing that existed as a way of making stat upgrades unpleasant. He didn¡¯t wait for the thing to scream at him, just told it he wanted more Aim and let it send him out of the shattered and filthy classroom back to reality. Lesson Continues : Biology IV (410/4200), Lesson Continues : Basketball IV (6/4200), Merits : 266, Credits : 2 ¡°Alright, cool.¡± He said, flexing the growing mental muscle and starting to track random throwing arcs as he tried to figure out how he could hit various things with the crumb covered plate in front of him. ¡°What else?¡± ¡°Drink this.¡± Anesh handed him a sealed glass bottle. James tipped back what was obviously a potion without question, and tried not to think of a joke about how easy it would be for Anesh to poison him, because that would be a shitty joke. Instead, he nearly gagged on the stuff. After making a disgusted noise deep in his throat, he gave an airy cough and glared at them all. ¡°What the shit did I just imbibe? It tastes like thick raspberries, and I mean that in the most derogatory way possible.¡± ¡°Potion. Here. Read this.¡± Alanna handed him a battered paperback. ¡°Sewer lesson. This one¡¯s all yours, no copies, no idea what it is. Well, I mean, an iLipede says it¡¯s technology related, but that¡¯s all we got.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I have taken this first? Before all the other stuff.¡± James asked, preparing to crack the book open. Anesh shook his head. ¡°No. Because the more lessons you have, the more each level of each new lesson costs. You¡¯re already looking at years before your next levels in the other two, right? At that time scale, it¡¯s not really practical to care if what comes after it is one or two hundred years of work. Either you¡¯re immortal by then, or it¡¯s moot. So we wanted you to level those up first, then take this one, so you could maybe get two or three points in it. Also, the potion makes you read better, so you¡¯re our test subject.¡± Anesh ran a hand through the short black mop of his hair. ¡°The problem is it¡¯s hard to measure how much each lesson causes a problem. The Sewer seems like it¡¯s changing the numbers constantly. All we know is it compounds. And also, if you don¡¯t want to, you can skip that one¡­you already did it. Okay.¡± James looked up from where the paperback had crumbled to dust in his hands. ¡°What? Oh, right. No.¡± Lesson Begins : Computer Science I (0/350) The fact that it had suppressed the rising cost per level by a fraction of the rapidly ballooning requirement was important. The information got spread onto the Order¡¯s server quickly, and James made a note to thank Arrush for the idea the ratroach had proposed a couple weeks ago when he had the chance. His friends had more stuff in the pile, and James kept accepting the power without reservation. Not eagerly, but with the kind of firm belief that if he did fuck up again, it wouldn¡¯t be because he wasn¡¯t strong enough. ¡°So, this is a red for surprise. Which is good for a lot of things, actually.¡± Alanna moved one of the remaining orbs forward. ¡°And the purples are for a lot of stuff.¡± Anesh added. ¡°Some of me have used a few of them, they¡¯re all benign. And since you only have one body, they might add up well with your other ones.¡± ¡°Sorry, what?¡± James paused. ¡°Explain that.¡± ¡°The¡­ what?¡± Anesh looked at him confusedly. ¡°They¡¯re purple orbs. How hard did you get hit on the head?¡± James rolled his eyes, noting that the dining room around them had sort of gone back to their own conversations, or thinned out more as people went back to whatever they were working on now that his main story was over. ¡°The body thing. Can I have another body? I know trying to get the body duplication thing with you doesn''t work, but do we have another plan?¡± ¡°Oh! I have plans for this!¡± Sarah shot her hand into the air. ¡°You can make a copy of Anesh, and then put your consciousness into it, and then reshape it to be you! Or, or, you can see if the succulent pots will grow a whole human and then go from there! Or you could just be a hive mind with someone!¡± She slapped her hands on the table. ¡°Be a hive mind with me James!¡± The words were in a low tone, and obviously a joke, but James did actually consider it for a second. ¡°Nnnnno, no, that would make it weird.¡± He decided. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can match¡­ this.¡± He waved at her. ¡°Everything is already weird, surrender to it.¡± Sarah made a grumpy huff, but was still smiling as she folded her arms at him. ¡°Anyway.¡± Anesh said. ¡°The shell upgrades upgrade your shell. The one you¡¯re in. You know this.¡± ¡°Yes, and for you, they sync up when you plug all your bodies together.¡± James cocked a finger at each Anesh in turn. The two of his boyfriend shared a look. ¡°No?¡± They said together. ¡°Why would you think that?¡± ¡°Because that¡¯s how it¡¯s always been?!¡± James protested. ¡°Am I going insane here? How hard was I hit in the head?! We built a mech in a way that people could disassociate into it for exactly this reason!¡± Sarah cleared her throat. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna ruin your whole¡­ this¡­ but we built Checkov so that we could teleport big things? It has shell upgrades, because if you do the LSD pseudo-erotic-hypnosis thing to think it¡¯s your body, you can give that body purples, but¡­¡± ¡°Wait, no, hang on. I have another question.¡± James sighed deeply. ¡°I will not be answering questions at this time.¡± Sarah proclaimed, brashly ignoring her own blushing face. ¡°Cool.¡± James drawled. ¡°Okay, new vector on this. Anesh, you and I have been the same person before, and it absolutely divides our purples up.¡± He watched as Anesh¡¯s face went through a riot of emotions, with a look of confusion fading to contemplation on Alanna¡¯s as well. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t remember this. We had a whole thing about all of us being briefly Canadian every time we blend with each other, it¡¯s¡­ a thing we do? Kinda romantic, kinda hot?¡± ¡°Oh, no, I know how we all feel about it, I was there.¡± Anesh drummed his fingers on his chin. ¡°And you¡¯re right, although also we only sort of assume the orange does that, but who cares. We do share purples when we¡¯re a hive mind. So¡­ why doesn¡¯t the robot have an extra heart or something from that time El got in it? Why don¡¯t we¡± he and his duplicate pointed to each other as they talked, ¡°keep the shell upgrades the same way we do with skills, or spells, or anything else?!¡± Before his boyfriend could have some kind of meltdown about a thing that, fundamentally, wasn¡¯t important right now, James cut in. ¡°Give me the orbs, I don¡¯t care.¡± He said simply. ¡°We¡¯ll figure this out later. I¡¯m sure Research has a list of reasons and dumb corner cases.¡± ¡°They do!¡± Sarah said brightly, not looking up from her phone as she scrolled through the list. Alanna peered over her shoulder as she made a dramatic hissing through her teeth. ¡°Some of them are weird!¡± ¡°The point is,¡± Anesh said, calming down and rolling him the orbs over the table¡¯s smooth surface, ¡°that a couple of these are copies, and a lot of them are overflow that we don¡¯t have the time to duplicate.¡± [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Surprise] [Shell Upgraded : Dopamine +/- 1.2 pg/ml toward optimal] [Shell Upgraded : +6 facts memorized / day [Shell Upgraded : Pressure Resistance - Eyeballs - +45 PSI] [Shell Upgraded : Grip - Endurance - +3 Seconds] [Shell Upgraded : Skin - Foot - Fracture Threshold - +1,444 Newtons] ¡°One of these is familiar.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Actually, one of these I think is like the very first one we ever got. Though¡­ feet-based.¡± He glanced at Alanna. ¡°Also the surprise orb first was a good idea, because one of these also might actually be a depression cure and please tell me it was one of the copies.¡± He tried not to sound like he was pleading, but it didn¡¯t work. Anesh smiled softly. ¡°We have a bunch of copies of that one, yeah. I wish we could copy things faster. We have so many orbs now that can really help people, and just¡­¡± ¡°Not enough time.¡± Sarah complained. ¡°Not enough coffee. Not enough magic! We need more magic in our lives. Speaking of, eat this.¡± She handed him a candy bar. James looked at the wrapper proclaiming it was called Wispa Gold. He raised his eyebrows at Sarah, but still opened it and took a bite. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ okay? It¡¯s fine. Was this magic?¡± He asked around a mouthful of sugar. ¡°No, it¡¯s Australian.¡± She said, watching him. ¡°Sarah¡¯s been doing this to people lately.¡± Alanna explained with a roll of her eyes. ¡°I think it¡¯s part of a larger ploy to convince us Australia isn¡¯t real.¡± ¡°I just like sharing candy.¡± Sarah admitted with a shrug and her usual happy smile. ¡°So, what next?¡± What was next was a curated blue orb for him to absorb. He¡¯d used up the last of his [Break Electronic] power doing basically nothing except ruining some random cellphones and laptops in the backpack one of the survivors had, so he was open to fairly painlessly absorbing the thing. He was also insistent that he was not going to replace [Manipulate Asphalt], so far the most powerful spell he had, as long as he was close to a street. [+9 Uses : Move Person] ¡°Uh¡­¡± Was about all he could think to say as the orb slipped into his palm, the thoughts of shaping a tool fresh on his mind. ¡°Yeah, bet you¡¯re glad you had the surprise orb first!¡± Alanna said. ¡°So, this one has rules.¡± ¡°I fuckin¡¯ bet.¡± The rules were more like guidelines, really. You could move yourself, but it would give you a hell of a headache. And no one felt like they could move themself farther than about ten feet without making that headache fatal, so they didn¡¯t try. You could move someone else, but no more than about a city block. You also couldn¡¯t throw someone into open air or underwater without cutting down the distance immensely, and you absolutely could not bury someone in the ground. But still. ¡°This is so cool.¡± James said. ¡°I love it. Thank you.¡± ¡°Oh! One more weird thing!¡± Sarah added. ¡°It can move you through a door, or a wall with a door, but it¡¯s harder if the door is locked?¡± ¡°That seems like bullshit.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I said! But I used a cute word.¡± Sarah proclaimed. Alanna snorted. ¡°You said it was ¡®gubbins¡¯, which I am positive you only know because Anesh keeps saying it.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tread on my heritage.¡± Anesh interjected. ¡°I have more gifts. Here.¡± He handed James a plastic baggie. ¡°Yeah, what is this?¡± James asked, holding it up and looking at the bits of paper inside. What it was, was the result of twenty different delves into Route Horizon. Scraps of atlases, tourist pamphlets, road guides, and roadside signboards. Sorted, matched, and, critically, copied. They absolutely could copy the maps that gave Route spells. And they could do it a lot, because little bits of paper didn¡¯t take up much space at all. Everyone in the whole Order could have any spell they found, for almost no opportunity cost. Now, giving everyone the Velocity to use them was another story, but at least they had half of it down. James pulled the fragments out of each bag, and, gently, assembled them on the table. And then, he was somewhere else. Below him, rolling in the void, was a sphere. A world. His world. Not just dark, but empty of almost anything. But not empty of everything. There was a small point that he was personally very familiar with; a small splash of hiking trails and streets in South America that was Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel. And now, there was something else. A tiny light in the inky nothing, a beacon that called his attention to the spinning orb. He peered toward it, feeling the channel between the Velocity in his heart and the outside world. A place he could go. Not a real place, but a place inside here, inside the map carved into this nowhere soul of his. It was the smallest dot on the map he felt he might ever see. A single line of a road, and the interior of a museum building that it crossed paths with. And that was it. But it was enough. And he opened his eyes with the name of a spell on his lips. ¡°Pave.¡± He said out loud, the experience of the grand perspective leaving him slightly breathless. Everyone else nodded, giving him a moment to enjoy the sensation. It was something unique, when it came to grabbing new magics. Something that felt powerful all on its own. And it wasn¡¯t like anyone needed to explain the spell to him. It was basically just punching but from a distance. Two velocity and you got to hit someone from twenty meters away. Underwhelming, but¡­ something. A tool for the box. Then James did it again, and got something a lot more fascinating. From a few connected chunks of Tokyo streets and train networks came Bones Of Flashing Metal. Four velocity a minute, to increase his own ability to withstand impacts relative to how fast he was going. Negligible at lower speeds, but not nothing. And also, it worked in reverse, letting him trade the strength of his bones for more speed, even if he was on foot. James loved it, and was certain he was going to hurt himself with this. ¡°This is amazing.¡± He muttered, looking around at everyone. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the one who needs it.¡± Alanna tried to be dismissive, but he could hear the care coming from her. ¡°Anyway. You wanna say goodbye to anyone before we get you home? Maybe some adorable gay rats?¡± James smiled, too tired and too aware of Alanna¡¯s general vibe to actually be embarrassed at the moment. ¡°I would, yeah.¡± He said. ¡°And then maybe get some sleep before the next crisis I¡¯ll be dealing with.¡± ¡°Oh why would you say that.¡± Anesh groaned. ¡°See, the great part is, I actually saw Reed and Ben run by earlier from down the hall.¡± James pointed to where he had a sliver of line of sight to the front lobby of the Lair. ¡°So I actually know they¡¯re probably trying to find me to tell me there¡¯s a problem.¡± Sarah steepled her fingers and looked between Anesh and Alanna. ¡°If we put him in a bag, we can carry him out without anyone knowing.¡± ¡°If we teleport, we don¡¯t have to do that.¡± Alanna was pulling a telepad out of a hidden pocket in her coat already. ¡°We can still do the bag thing.¡± Sarah offered. James cleared his throat. ¡°Do I get a say in this?¡± ¡°No!¡± The other three chorused, which got a coughing laugh out of him. He was just about to say something when a voice from behind him got his attention. ¡°Oh, hey boss.¡± Harvey¡¯s deep baritone got his attention. ¡°I know you¡¯re busy, but do you have a minute?¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t!¡± Alanna proclaimed, lunging forward to grab James¡¯ hand, another arm hooking around Sarah¡¯s. ¡°Anesh!¡± She called, their boyfriend slapping his hands onto James¡¯ shoulders before one of them helped Alanna tear the telepad and send them all away. Harvey stood staring at the table, blinking. Then he sighed. ¡°No would have worked, too.¡± He shook his head. The group reappeared in the basement an instant later near the Order¡¯s apartments, and collectively fell on their asses. James found himself laughing so hard he couldn¡¯t breathe, while Anesh just grumbled good naturedly as he picked himself and his boyfriend up. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°You know, I think if people are gonna come to me with literally every problem, then maybe, just maybe, in my capacity as Official Paladin Of The Order Of Endless Rooms, I should consider getting an authority larva too. Just for fun.¡± ¡°Or,¡± Anesh offered helpfully, ¡°maybe mint more paladins.¡± James blinked as he steadied himself, halting suddenly from his walk toward Arrush and Keeka¡¯s apartment. Slowly, he turned back to face Anesh. ¡°You know what?¡± He said. ¡°That¡¯s a great idea.¡± ¡°I¡¯m suddenly terrified.¡± Anesh stated worriedly. ¡°I¡¯m kinda turned on.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°He¡¯s got that look.¡± ¡°I¡¯m neither of those things, I¡¯m actually heading home!¡± Sarah proclaimed. ¡°Gotta get Auberdeen a walk in before I have Attic things in half an hour and then youth group things and then potion things and then-¡° ¡°I fucking knew you had stuff to do.¡± James accused her. ¡°Get him home safe.¡± Sarah flushed as she broke off her list of daily tasks, leaning over to hug Alanna, before fist bumping Anesh and then pulling her own telepad for home. ¡°I¡¯ll see you guys later.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Go check in with them, we¡¯ll hang out here, yell if you need anything.¡± She leaned an elbow on Anesh¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Then we¡¯ll get you home before Ben figures out where you are. You can do a full debrief tomorrow, it¡¯ll keep.¡± James nodded, and went to say a quick goodbye and thank you to Keeka and Arrush, and use one of his gifts with them too, before he forgot. Arrush greeted him at the door, looking like he wasn¡¯t sure what he was supposed to be doing, which was pretty typical. ¡°Hey.¡± James started with a soft smile. ¡°I hear you came to bail me out earlier.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Arrush shifted his tall frame to the side as Keeka poked his head past him in the doorway. ¡°He did.¡± The smaller ratroach declared as he wove himself through three of Arrush¡¯s arms. ¡°He was worried.¡± ¡°Just him?¡± ¡°...We were worried.¡± James snorted a laugh. ¡°Well, I just¡­ wanted to say thanks. I¡¯ll probably be saying that to a lot of people, but I wanted to start with you two. Thanks.¡± He rubbed at the back of his neck, fingers tracing the outline of his skulljack. ¡°And for being there when I woke up. It was good to see you both.¡± James looked up at Arrush, who had tilted his triangular head upward and was sheepishly scratching at his own neck. He wanted to laugh, but didn¡¯t want to further embarrass the big ratroach. ¡°Everyone helped.¡± Arrush said. ¡°I¡­ did little.¡± ¡°Eh. Don¡¯t care. Still appreciate you.¡± James said. ¡°Anyway, I have a couple things, if you two are interested.¡± He held out a pair of his relationsticks to them. ¡°These actually sting to use, but¡­ I mean¡­ if you know what they-¡± He didn¡¯t get to finish the sentence before both of them grabbed and snapped one of them, small circles burning their way into chitin and skin as they linked themselves together. For James, it meant his hand was starting to look like art. For Arrush and Keeka, it was one new circle apiece, next to the one they shared with each other. <| Connection Open : James Lyle - Arrush : One Corridor Established : One Corridor Empty |> <| Connection Open : James Lyle - Keeka : One Corridor Established : One Corridor Empty |> ¡°What¡­ was the other thing?¡± Keeka asked, rubbing the back of his claw against his leg like he could make it stop stinging just by doing that. ¡°Oh! Wanna come over for dinner tomorrow night? I¡¯d say now, but I¡¯m supposed to be sleeping, and there¡¯s a whole thing about-¡± He didn¡¯t get any further into his explanation before both of them hissed out acceptance of his invitation. James did laugh, that time, and then offered a hug which they both awkwardly accepted as well, weaving too many arms around him in a move that he found relaxing enough that he threatened to fall asleep on his feet there, surrounded by fur and chitin and whatever fabric blend their hoodies were made out of. But he was exhausted, and wanted to go home. So, relationsticks put to work, reassurances and hugs given, he finally headed to his own bed. He figured he¡¯d read for a bit, relax, let himself mentally recover, something like that. This lasted about two minutes before he was out like a light. The crises could wait for tomorrow. He¡¯d be more ready then. Chapter 232 ¡°Bi men who are currently dating women are still LGBT, they just can''t use Hamon as effectively¡± -Harry Brewis- _____ ¡°You¡¯re not even supposed to be here.¡± Was the first thing Harvey said when James showed up at his office. He was looking good compared to when James last saw him; a perfectly trimmed salt and pepper goatee framing a face that looked like he¡¯d spent the last two years carefully honing his body. It had actually been about three weeks, and something that could charitably be called ¡®extensive use¡¯ of the exercise potions. But no one needed to know that. He also wasn¡¯t alone in his office; a mid-thirties man in cargo shorts and with wavy long hair was doing his best to glare at Harvey, and coming across as angry but ultimately unintimidating. James nodded at him politely, holding the door half open with his head poking in. ¡°So, is this a bad time?¡± ¡°No.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Get in here.¡± He pressed his fingertips together, elbows propped on the desk he kept as neat as his beard. ¡°James, this is March Cameron, he¡¯s one of our civilian oversight board. March, James.¡± James offered a handshake, and got one back in the way that people who weren¡¯t used to shaking hands tended to go for. A little too uncertain and loose, but a good effort. ¡°Nice to meet you. Are you part of the Response program?¡± ¡°Technically no.¡± James answered, which was apparently the wrong thing to say, as the man¡¯s face dropped back to a glower and he retracted his hand rapidly. ¡°So, you wanted to talk yesterday.¡± ¡°Yeah, and your entire polycule teleported away on me.¡± Harvey snorted. ¡°Next time try saying ¡®no, I¡¯m busy¡¯. Have some decorum. I know you almost died and all your skin melted off, but you can at least deflect me with some respect.¡± ¡°¡­sure.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Actually, yeah, sure. You¡¯re right. That was kinda shitty of¡­ Alanna? Probably? Look, I¡¯m reasonably sure I hit my head, I¡¯m using that as an excuse. What¡¯s the issue?¡± The other man in the room made a low sound of confusion. ¡°Uh¡­ sorry, your skin?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not telling this story again. What¡¯s going on here, and how can I help? That is literally my job here. Come on. Let¡¯s go. Tell me your woes.¡± March blinked and shook off the confusion. ¡°Well, our job is to go over all the records and action reports of Response, look for worrying trends or places that can be improved on, and also to be the place that receives complaints about bad behaviors and has authority to discipline or remove responders that overstep or aren¡¯t working out.¡± He explained. James nodded along, he¡¯d heard most of this before, when he wrote their mission brief. March saw that he had an informed audience, and continued. ¡°So, this includes reviewing any footage of fights or violence. If a responder¡¯s report says that they subdued someone, for example, we check the files, and make sure things are on the level. And we know that multiple responders were involved in full on combat, and Mr. Allison here refuses to hand over the recordings.¡± He finished with a tired glare at Harvey. James glanced down at where Harvey was seated, and had started working on something unrelated on his computer while March was talking. ¡°Alright.¡± He said slowly. ¡°I think I know what you¡¯re talking about. Harvey, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°They¡¯re not from a Response action, they don¡¯t count.¡± Harvey shrugged. ¡°Any knights involved weren¡¯t acting as part of the Response program, and don¡¯t fall under this guy¡¯s oversight. Simple.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not simple, and you¡¯re using that as a way to dodge the consequences of your actions!¡± March dramatically threw his hands up. The guy talked in a very animated way, lots of hand gestures and shifting motion. He turned to point at James, adding, ¡°And you¡¯re not even on the organization¡¯s roster, so if you have authority here, that¡¯s another problem!¡± ¡°Okay, first off.¡± James started. ¡°I¡¯m absolutely on the roster. I fill in when I can, but that¡¯s been happening less lately now that I gave Harvey a budget. Second, Harvey, give him the footage.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What?¡± Both men spoke at the same time, the surprise from the word stopping whatever attitudes they were bringing to the conversation. James folded his arms and nodded. ¡°March is right. Using ¡®they were on an unaffiliated op¡¯ as an excuse is a bad precedent. In the future, we need better protocol for this.¡± He turned back to March. ¡°But, here¡¯s the thing; Response is meant to be a civilian focused safety unit. The other stuff the Order does¡­ less so. You can have this footage to review, but be aware that, as far as I know, you¡¯re about to watch one of my people get mutilated, and there are confirmed kills in there.¡± March stared at him for a minute, his face going through a sequence of emotions from confusion to revulsion and back to something that just seemed angry. ¡°What the fuck were you people doing?¡± He asked, finally. Harvey started to say something, but James gave the man a tiny head shake, before focusing on March. ¡°They were trying to secure an asset that would let them save my life, and the lives of the civilians under my care.¡± He said. ¡°They were doing this by attempting to intercept and rob a heavily armed magical mercenary assassin team, and I just realized how fucking stupid that sentence sounds, so forgive me if I come across as mildly unprofessional. You¡¯re apparently our liaison, so despite the fact that a lot of our actions aren¡¯t things we advertise, you should know that the Order of Endless Rooms is active in a lot of weird places. And sometimes, the people who started Response cross over into other divisions. So if you want the footage this time, you can have it, but just know that we need to sit down and have a real, professional talk about how we draw the lines between things.¡± March looked like he wanted to complain about something. So he did. ¡°You¡¯re running some kind of private army, and, what, using Response as training?¡± He sounded furious, but in a way he was keeping good control over. ¡°Absolutely not. The closest we get to an army, or even a militia, is Response. Our other stuff is way less organized.¡± James didn¡¯t talk about the rogues, that was¡­ whatever JP was doing. ¡°And if I had my way, Response would be totally isolated from actual combat operations. But I don¡¯t, and because a lot of the founding members of Response are people who have experience in life or death situations, and have places in a lot of different spots in the Order, there¡¯s some crossover. But in general, we¡¯re trying to work toward a cleaner separation.¡± ¡°Which is important.¡± Harvey chimed in. ¡°Because the stuff you need to be good at to deescalate a brawl, or run search and rescue, or help someone through a mental health crisis, is far beyond what the rest of you idiots are doing.¡± ¡°Hey¡­¡± James was a little hurt. ¡°What are you doing?¡± March asked, still holding onto some anger, but more just interested now. He made a point of looking around Harvey¡¯s office, at how aggressively mundane it was. Harvey had a bookshelf full of legal and ethical texts, some personal art on the walls, multiple monitors on his desk where he was presumably constantly watching Response activities even when he was working on administrative stuff, and¡­ nothing else. Even his desk and chair were nondescript and functional. Nothing overly ornate, certainly nothing magical. ¡°You have teleporters, and a whole other species working with you. And¡­ and we¡¯re just taking that in stride, man, I swear. I¡¯m not looking to know all the secrets of the universe or whatever. But you¡¯re doing this instead of anything else, and I gotta know why.¡± ¡°Because the system sucks, so we¡¯re doing something better.¡± Harvey said flatly. ¡°Also, the rest of the stuff we¡¯re doing is kinda secret? Like, we¡¯re not a conspiracy.¡± James made sure to not smile as he repeated his favorite line from the operations manual. ¡°But while we¡¯re fine sharing the output of our nonsense, like teleporters, I¡¯m not gonna read you in. Besides, the point is that you¡¯re independent.¡± March looked like he was going to protest, when there was a light rapping on the door. Harvey barked out a ¡°Yes?¡± And a second later the door opened to reveal a short, rail thin ratroach, who froze at the sight of the three humans looking at them. Moving carefully, and skirting around James to keep him as a barrier against the new person, the ratroach approached Harvey¡¯s desk and gently set down a cardboard box that clinked with rattling glass. Then, as Harvey was halfway through saying ¡°Thank you Shallah¡±, the ratroach was out of the office with the door slamming behind them so fast James was impressed they didn¡¯t leave a cartoon dust cloud behind. There was a quiet moment, before March, mouth hanging open and pointing at the door, proclaimed, ¡°See, like that! Tell me about things like that!¡± ¡°You were fine with one new species, you¡¯ll live with this.¡± Harvey snorted dismissively. ¡°Now, you¡¯ll get what you want this time. Anything else?¡± ¡°I have so many questions, but no, not now.¡± March said. ¡°Great. Then my work here is done.¡± James said cheerfully, waving goodbye to the man as Harvey wrote a telepad for him and sent him on his way. Then, once the oversight liaison was gone, he turned to the man behind the desk. ¡°So, is there a reason for the antagonism?¡± James asked. ¡°They¡¯re slowing us down.¡± Harvey said simply. ¡°And there¡¯s too much to do.¡± James nodded understandingly. ¡°Sure.¡± He said. ¡°But man, you know that¡¯s how things started going wrong in the first place. Come on.¡± Harvey froze, and started to glare at James, before his eyes softened and he ran a hand across the mossy curls of his hair. ¡°Shit.¡± He drawled out, taking a deep breath. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll play nice.¡± ¡°I mean, he seems kinda high strung. I get being annoyed. But yeah, you know what I¡¯m getting at.¡± James shrugged. Harvey flicked his eyes to one of his monitors before giving his attention back to James. ¡°I hear we¡¯re giving up on replacing the cops.¡± He said slowly. ¡°You¡¯re allowed to just ask me questions, I¡¯m not gonna have you murdered for questioning me.¡± ¡°Alright, why are we changing the goal?¡± Harvey scowled. ¡°It¡¯s not what I signed up for.¡± ¡°Harvey, you signed up to maybe help a dozen people a day with minor crises that the police don¡¯t respond well to. None of us signed up for this. Response has spiraled out of our scope entirely. And it¡¯s not working. We¡¯re never gonna have the funding to actually do this on the scale we want, unless we literally are a county. So, yeah, keep at it, keep developing a personnel base, and helping as much as we can. But our goal now is to be ready for when we are running a city, or a country, or whatever. To be something better.¡± ¡°Peacekeepers.¡± Harvey said in rough agreement. ¡°The ones who keep people safe, before everything else.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± James shared a nod with him, the two men in utter agreement about that one thing. ¡°In the meantime, keep doing your thing.¡± ¡°I need more people, and money, and teleporters, and everything else.¡± Harvey said hopefully. James nodded solemnly again, and decided to throw Harvey under the bus. ¡°Talk to Karen.¡± He said, and watched the hope die in the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Anyway. Enjoy your potions, I gotta go. I¡¯ve got a dozen things to do today, and talking to Karen is already one of them.¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t you nearly dead a day ago?¡± ¡°I¡¯m nearly dead every day. Shit still has to get done.¡± James sighed, and cracked the door to step out to the buzz of the Response dispatch floor. ¡°Apologize to our civilian oversight!¡± He called back as he left, and got a wave from Harvey that he hoped was agreement. ______ James emerged from a stairwell in the back of the warehouse a half hour later, having been co-opted into taking a simple Response call to just rapidly teleport a team of firefighters to where they needed to be so they could clear a building while their engines caught up. It was the kind of thing that he would have loved to just remove from their list of services by handing telepads to fire departments, but while James generally thought that on average firefighters were in the top ten percent of Good People, he had absolutely no trust that the wheels of government wouldn¡¯t find a way to take those magical resources away and use them for evil. So the Order kept a close eye on its assets, even when they were using them to help. It felt bad. They could do so much more, if they could just trust everyone to not be shitty. But they didn¡¯t, and that feeling left James grumpy as he stomped up the stairs and into the briefing warehouse. The room was cool, and while James was aware it was a grey and rainy day outside, the damp didn¡¯t pervade here. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was good air conditioning, or if the building had a green orb for moisture control, but either way it was good. The whole place was its usual collection of desks and tables, whiteboards and half packed dungeon loadouts. It was the kind of environment James had sort of envisioned when he¡¯d decided to lean into the Order as a group that delved dungeons for a living, but the real life version of it was a lot less fantastical than his imagination had been. It wasn¡¯t chaotic, for one thing. Established teams had their own designated spaces, the whiteboards and pinned documents were full of carefully maintained maps and rosters and daily objectives, even the rogues kept their space neat when they weren¡¯t busy doing something stupid. There were about twenty people here, and in the expansive space it didn¡¯t feel crowded as they all worked on their own projects. Discussing past delves or planning for what was next. There was an excitement in the air, too. Not that there wasn¡¯t always, but this time it was a little louder than normal. A woman caught James¡¯ eye with a wave as he made his way across the room. He recognized her as Alice, from the team the Order had set to scouting out potential new dungeons. Her partner had, if James remembered right, been hospitalized in the recent attack on the Wolfpack. ¡°Hey boss.¡± She said as he redirected his path out of the room and dropped by where she was sitting. Alice looked awful, like she hadn¡¯t slept in a month, which James really empathized with, even if he was feeling irrationally perky today. She had her feet resting on the back of a camraconda that was sprawled out under the desk, and was wearing cat ears over their head, which James decided to not worry about. ¡°Here about the signal?¡± ¡°I absolutely am not.¡± James nodded even as he denied whatever she was saying. ¡°What signal?¡± ¡°The GPS tracker, from the dungeon.¡± Alice said. ¡°Charlie¡¯s idea, I can¡¯t take credit. But we¡¯re all set for it whenever you give the word.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± James asked, wishing he¡¯d brought his skulljack braid. Or maybe stayed in bed for a few hours reading chat logs and cuddling in the middle of a pile of Anesh, instead of getting up and dragging his carcass to the Lair. ¡°Wait, does someone else need rescuing? Is it just an endless chain of rescues?¡± ¡°No! The¡­ the¡­ okay, we put a GPS beacon on the parking lot when we did the teleporter shuffle. And now we know where the dungeon is!¡± Alice jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the other teams who all looked like they needed coffee themselves. ¡°But you said the place eats stuff from outside, so we have a finite time to find it before it¡¯s gone. So we¡¯re moving out soon.¡± She frowned. ¡°Well, they are. I¡¯m on my own. So.¡± The woman shrugged, but it was clear she regretted the situation. ¡°Wh¡­ where the fuck is it?¡± James asked, trying to figure out if he¡¯d fallen asleep again. ¡°Webster Grove, and also Fukushima.¡± ¡°Alice I¡¯m not plugged into the internet right now. One of those is Japan, but where¡¯s the other?¡± James snapped his fingers. ¡°Also it has exits in two places?!¡± That would be super cool and maybe useful if we didn¡¯t have the most powerful teleporter ever made on demand right now.¡± Alice nodded. ¡°The Japan one is a lot weaker and harder to pin down, so everyone¡¯s gonna go check out the Missouri one instead.¡± ¡°Well, Missouri loves company.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s pronounced Missouri.¡± James sighed. ¡°No one appreciates my jokes.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really have a sense of humor.¡± He couldn¡¯t tell if she was kidding or not, but Alice still gave him a grin. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯re not sure if we¡¯ll be in time. Ben¡¯s out trying to source some hazmat gear, and figure out how to set up a quarantine site on location, but¡­ well, you tell us I guess. You wanna let this one go?¡± James really, really did. But¡­ that wasn¡¯t really his call. So he shook his head instead, setting his mouth in a thin line. ¡°The whole thing sucks, we need to be extra careful with it, but if we could actually get more skill crystals from it, it might be the most powerful tool we can add to our list.¡± ¡°How do you figure?¡± Alice asked. ¡°No one has more than two points, we don¡¯t know what to do with the crystals. Or the chunk the¡­ well. You know.¡± James didn¡¯t know, but he could guess. It was on his list of things to do today. ¡°Repeatability.¡± He said. ¡°Get some samples of low-risk infections. Tank a cold, see if we can do it multiple times. It¡¯s not riskless, but if we can find a skill crystal that gives something like carpentry or farming or anything that lets us bootstrap an education program¡­¡± ¡°I follow.¡± She nodded. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll keep you informed.¡± Alice tilted her head back and let out a dramatic sigh. ¡°Since Charlie couldn¡¯t not get shot, I¡¯m basically just hanging around here being sad until a team reforms around me. Though it will give me time to harass my sister. She¡¯s doing the squire thing here.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call them that.¡± James laughed. ¡°I get to be called a knight. ¡®S not fair the kids don¡¯t get fancy titles!¡± Alice smirked. ¡°Anyway, just wanted to check in while you were passing by.¡± ¡°Thanks, appreciate it.¡± James nodded, and moved on, as behind him the woman and the camraconda she was using as a footrest watched him go. Behind him, he heard Alice ask her camraconda friend, ¡°You didn¡¯t wanna say hi?¡± And a high pitched incredulous voice reply ¡°I can¡¯t just say hi!¡± He stifled his laugh until he was out of the warehouse. Just to be polite. _____ In the basement of the home building of the Order of Endless Rooms, there was a secure door that led to a small space lined with shelves. At the far end of it, there was a low table with a woman¡¯s body on it, and a camraconda on constant watch. And on the shelves, with small carved wooden plates that had names, were the remnants of the fallen. It wasn¡¯t clear if it was a dungeon-specific phenomena, but it happened for many of the dungeons the Order made use of. When someone died, the collective magic they had inside them was returned. There must be a priority system, of sorts. Anyone with Officium Mundi orbs always dropped an orb, no matter what else they had. Yellow, usually. But there were also a pair of battered books on the shelf as well, from a pair of teenagers who hadn¡¯t deserved to die, and a number of green orbs from camracondas whose nature as dungeon creations seemed to override everything else. And now James added a set of skill chunks to the shelves, affixing into place the plaques that read the names of Johns, Zari, Mauro, and Milly. They weren¡¯t the only casualties, by a long shot. But they were the ones who left something like this behind. Zhu woke up and stirred in James¡¯ chest while he was finishing up. The navigator slipping out partly, just a brush of feathers and a single avian eye. He lingered with James for a while, both of them unsure of what to say. Or if there was anything to say. It wasn¡¯t profound, or meaningful, or the end of some great journey. They were just dead. Because one asshole had been willing to kill anyone between them and their target. And whether or not Harlan deserved a good murdering, it never should have involved these people. It was just bleak, and sad. And James hated it. The last time he¡¯d really been down here, he¡¯d told these little remnants of the dead that he would do better. And, if he was being honest, he had. If he hadn¡¯t been better, he wouldn¡¯t have even lived himself, much less gotten anyone out with him. But there was always more to do. Always a worse problem coming up. So he said it again. That he¡¯d do better. That someday there wouldn¡¯t be anyone new added here at all, ever again. _____ The upstairs floor of the Lair technically wasn¡¯t actually that at all. Due to a series of unfortunately no longer available effects, they¡¯d managed to link their elevator to an upper floor of a Los Angeles skyscraper. Due to a series of JP-based actions, they still had the lease on that floor for another few months before they had to figure out how to renew it, which James was pretty sure their legal department had already handled. The floor was mostly just a quiet place for groups to meet in a comfortable environment, and where a few people kept offices or desks. Since acquiring James¡¯ old workplace and the outer shell of Officium Mundi, most of the Recovery division had moved over there. Remodeling that was keeping them busy for a little while. Technically James had an office up here, even if everyone seemed to think it was Rufus¡¯ office now. He didn¡¯t head toward it as he stepped off the elevator, though. Instead, he greeted the living plant that coiled toward him curiously, stopped to get a drink from the infinite vending machine, sipped the cool fruity concoction with a content sigh as he enjoyed the silence of the mostly empty floor. He was here to meet with Karen, but he didn¡¯t see her in the conference room, so James figured he had a minute to himself. So he turned to stare out the window at the city below, and let his thoughts drift to the coming conversation. He already had a plan for how to tell Karen that it was fine that he was back already, and a joking excuse planned about how the head trauma wasn¡¯t that bad that he knew she wouldn¡¯t laugh at. Mostly, he was trying to think of a good term for what he was about to pitch her. He really, really didn¡¯t want to continue the Order¡¯s somewhat silly neo-tradition of naming division words that started with R, and so, naturally, the literal only word that would come to mind at the moment was Reach. James sipped his drink and tried not to swear as he worked to cram the thought out by repeating ¡®logistics¡¯ to himself over and over. He was so caught up in the growing afternoon rush of the city, so much different from the empty roads and sunset skies that he and Sarah would stand and watch during the pandemic months, that he didn¡¯t notice he wasn¡¯t alone until it was too late. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. A claw tapped tentatively on his shoulder, and James screamed. Whirling around and slamming his shoulder against the skyscraper window with an echoing thud, while the purple furred ratroach that had tried to get his attention flung herself backward and scrambled back in a frantic blur of limbs to hide behind the low wall that separated a line of open cubicles from the open space and the door to the conference room. James slid down the window, panting with a hand over his chest, as he tried to apologize frantically. ¡°S-shit. Sorry, sorry! Is that you Smoke?¡± He didn¡¯t know what having a heart attack felt like, but this was probably something similar. ¡°Holy shit you scared me. I¡¯m really sorry, are you alright?¡± He started to stand back up, but didn¡¯t approach where the ratroach was cowering and taking rapid hissing breaths. Instead he waited as Smoke extended a quivering claw that was clutching her small whiteboard around the wall. ¡°Karen is running late.¡± It had written on it. She held it there, sticking out, while James blinked and took in the words. It struck him as hilarious, as the adrenaline of the scare faded from his heart. The sudden contrast in feelings bringing a deep laugh to his lips. At the sound, Smoke drew her arm back and stuck her head around the corner, glaring at him. ¡°Sorry!¡± He said, this time around laughter. ¡°Okay, actually, I¡¯m really sorry. I hope I didn¡¯t scare you.¡± Smoke¡¯s mismatched quartet of eyes softened, and she rapidly scribbled something on her board while three of her hands held it steady. ¡°Okay. Sorry I scared you too.¡± It said. James offered her a hand up, and winced as he felt just how fragile Smoke¡¯s claw was in his hand as she pulled her thin frame up off the floor. ¡°Hey, glad to see your arms are better.¡± He said as she pulled away as soon as she was standing. The ratroach was clearly doing a lot better, but was still twitchy in a way that only a lifetime of abuse could bring. Smoke nodded, her eyes flicking around the room as she stood awkwardly like she was going to write something, before tipping her head down and scurrying away, leaving James standing alone again. Though only briefly. ¡°Are you scaring my employee?¡± Karen asked as she strode into the space like she owned it. Which, being fair, she kinda did. When James had first met Karen, he¡¯d thought of her as ¡®an adult¡¯, in the way that he often thought of people older than him. Stuffy, uncompromising to a fault, humorless, and generally so disconnected from what he found value in that it was hard to talk to her. Since then, he¡¯d revised most of those assessments. Karen was still kinda stuffy. Pushing fifty and spending your whole life working in one corporate accounting position or another would do that to anyone. And James wasn¡¯t blind to the fact that she would have been getting her start in the business world during a time when most big companies had a fundamental problem with her gender, even if the nineties he¡¯d grown up in had pretended that all discrimination had been solved forever. But even though she kept the dress code from her old life, there were plenty of cracks in the facade where she¡¯d show small smiles at weird jokes, or propose ideas that were well outside what James figured someone her age would find normal. So really, he was the one being a judgemental asshole now. A trait he sought to crush in his thoughts whenever he found it. ¡°Yes, but only on accident.¡± He answered Karen¡¯s question as she walked past with a purpose and led the way into their conference room, putting a folder on the long table and flicking the lights on with a thought as she did so. ¡°Also it¡¯s only fair because she terrified me first. Also I apologized.¡± James followed after her and took a seat near Karen without any other preamble. ¡°So.¡± ¡°So.¡± She nodded. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ good to see you alive.¡± ¡°I actually had an excuse prepared if you thought I should be at home today?¡± James ventured. Karen¡¯s sympathy for him dried up rapidly. ¡°You¡¯re either smart enough to know your own limits, or foolish enough to ignore them, and since this time no one¡¯s life is on the line, I do not care to hear which situation we are in.¡± ¡°Okay ow.¡± James chuckled, taking the comment in stride. ¡°Anyway, thanks. It¡¯s good to be alive. But also anyway, hi. We have a massive thing to work with, huh?¡± The woman gave James a smile like a razor¡¯s edge. ¡°I am assuming you¡¯re now somewhat frustrated that you won¡¯t need to organize a society around using asphalt robots to move cargo.¡± ¡°Shockingly no! That thing is really cool, but like, it¡¯s cool as an art project? It¡¯s also a massive pain in the ass and it¡¯s taking up half a basement we could be using for other things and also we¡¯ve never actually used it for anything except a few tests.¡± James flapped a hand in the air as he cut off his string of complaints. ¡°I¡¯d rather have something simple and robust that works.¡± ¡°Well, then I have good news for you.¡± Karen said. ¡°Where should we start?¡± ¡°Technical details. I¡¯ve seen that Research is still working on it, but¡­¡± ¡°They often forget to post their results, yes.¡± Karen flipped her folder open. ¡°The Wolfpack model of teleporter functions by transposing two spheres of space with each other. The device can be modified to change the size of the space, but only slightly. Manual targeting uses something akin to GPS coordinates, but it can also be done by simply having an infomorph give it a destination. Nikhail thinks that a particularly focused biomorph could do it as well, but-¡° ¡°Sorry, wait, hang on.¡± James rubbed at his forehead. ¡°I know I got hit on the head a lot-¡° ¡°Are you certain you should be here today?¡± ¡°-but did you just say biomorph?¡± James asked. Before Karen could reply, his brain turned over and made the connection. ¡°No, I kinda get it. Infomorph, biomorph, two sides of the sophont coin. Okay. So, that¡¯s how you plucked us from a dungeon, which I¡¯m guessing doesn¡¯t have a way to give the coordinates for.¡± Karen nodded. ¡°Correct. As far as we know. Bear in mind, it has been three days, extensive testing has not been done. But it does seem like we cannot rely on this as rapid escape routes. There would need to be a navigator inside to hand off their¡­ locations.¡± ¡°Which is unsettling, because they¡¯re like hearts.¡± James sucked in an uncomfortable breath through his teeth. ¡°Not something I wanna codify, really. But also, not important. How¡¯s safety?¡± ¡°Poor.¡± Karen nodded at his instinct. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the bubble in motion. As it rolls forward, it pushes along the edge with something around the force of a car window, according to the fools who dared to stick their limbs through it. Anything that doesn¡¯t bend away is crushed and eventually severed, though. This includes living material, as tested on plants. Also using it near the ground does seem to go slower than when the Wolfpack was using it to move their helicopter while in air.¡± ¡°Makes sense.¡± ¡°Does it?¡± Karen looked up to study him carefully. ¡°James, I will be the first to admit I don¡¯t have the¡­ the cultural grounding in these things that you and some of the others do. But how does that make sense?¡± The only answer James had was one that Karen probably wasn¡¯t going to like. ¡°Because dungeon magic is fair.¡± He told her. ¡°Every weird exploit we have that makes it something absurd comes from overlap between dungeons. Their own magic is always fair. The ground slowing it down just feels like something an exhausted GM would tell his players when they tried this. So it makes sense.¡± Giving him a small hum that wasn¡¯t quite an agreement, but did acknowledge that she¡¯d heard him, Karen moved on. ¡°Regardless. The devices must be fed to recharge, but otherwise have no limits. So, with that¡­ oh, fed electricity, since I see that horrified look on your face. Yes, I thought the same thing when Davis used the same terminology. Research needs a technical writer, badly. So with that in mind.¡± Karen set down the pen she¡¯d been ticking off lines of text in her folder with, set her hands on the table, and met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°How do we want to shatter the global economy?¡± James met her eyes, and let a feral grin creep onto his face. Stuffy or not, Karen had adapted well to one thing the Order was making a core part of their culture. If anything that looked like the status quo put itself in their crosshairs, they weren¡¯t interested in letting it pass unscathed. There were some large scale questions that didn¡¯t have easy answers, which they¡¯d have to work around for now. Like, ¡®how many of these do we need?¡¯ But other things they could start on immediately. Building facilities as transport hubs would require planning from a lot of people, but there were goals they could set right now. The biggest thing this allowed for, at scale, was the elimination of a huge amount of the shipping industry. Cargo ships, trucks, trains, humanity had spent a huge amount of time and money moving heavy things from point A to point B, and that entire industry and network was really only immune to disruption because of the lack of alternatives. With large scale repeatable teleporters, that alternative was here, now. ¡°My main thought,¡± James told her, ¡°is that we should focus on the bigger distances. Ocean transport is real bad for sea life, for one thing, so I¡¯d like to start with ports if possible. Trucks are still going to be needed to get stuff to the end destination for now, but building hubs in every city will let us effectively replace long haul transport as a business.¡± ¡°Scheduling is going to be a nightmare.¡± Karen told him bluntly. ¡°There will be errors, over time. We need safety precautions to keep those errors annoying and not lethal.¡± ¡°Agreed. Why don¡¯t we start with, like, a few places across North and South America, and just start selling at absurdly competitive prices?¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to put a lot of people out of work.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± James leaned back. ¡°What if¡­ okay, here¡¯s a weird journey, but go with me on it.¡± He stared up at the ceiling. ¡°What if we contract out to shipping companies, for now? We offer to do exactly what they¡¯re already doing, but cheaper, safer, and faster. And we take the money from it, and keep paying every employee that we replace.¡± ¡°For what?¡± ¡°For nothing.¡± James said, bringing his eyes back down from the ceiling tiles. ¡°Okay, there¡¯s a huge amount of money to be made here, but these companies are already profitable, right?¡± Karen nodded, and before she could start giving him numbers, James continued. ¡°We don¡¯t need that profit. I mean, we do, and we can make use of it. But we can make use of it best by acting to do what we already wanted to do, which is eliminating poverty. We start by covering the laid off employees, but at a certain point, we¡¯ll have a big enough network that we¡¯ll be the transport solution, and we can just drop the original companies we contracted with, and effectively have a monopoly.¡± Karen clasped her hands, pursing her lips before taking a deep breath. ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t a capitalist.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m absolutely not!¡± James said. ¡°But if we do this, and turn cargo transport into a public utility¡­¡± ¡°I see.¡± Karen¡¯s eyes burned as she took the thought and ran with it. ¡°Yes. Yes, I see where you are going with this. You understand that they will fight back with regulations, lobbied government interference, perhaps outright sabotage?¡± James nodded, and Karen looked down at the page she had flipped to. ¡°How many of these can be produced?¡± She asked. ¡°And how fast? The speed at which we act is going to be relevant here. Also branching into passenger transport will be critical as well; if we control how people move, circumventing government control of boarders will be trivial. True freedom of movement could be within our reach.¡± The words came out breathlessly now. ¡°All we need to do is keep control of anything like this out of the hands of anyone else. Establish early a proprietary technology, and use it to break them before they can react. How deeply can we fabricate a lie? Make them chase their tails thinking teleportation technology is within reach, if only they fund the right research?¡± She was scribbling madly now on her paper, going a lot farther than James had planned this out. ¡°The initial investment will be¡­ problematic.¡± ¡°What are you going to need?¡± James asked, and Karen snapped her head up. ¡°Me? Nothing. You are not putting me in charge of this mad rampage against common sense.¡± She declared, smoothing out the lapels of the smartly cut suit she was wearing. ¡°Recovery will put out feelers, and find you the team you need to bring this vision to life. And I will hire an entire law firm to run interference for us. But after that, I won¡¯t be involved.¡± ¡°Fair. But what are we talking about budget wise?¡± ¡°Billions.¡± Karen said. ¡°Not all at once, but¡­ ten to twenty million at least for the first two facilities, and establishing our workflow. The Order is somewhat flush at the moment, but even still. We¡¯re going to need income, beyond the mild sale of precious metals.¡± James nodded and made to stand. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do for you.¡± He said. ¡°Also, we need a name for this project, and my brain won¡¯t let me stop thinking the word Reach.¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Karen snapped at him. ¡°I will add to our budget funds for hiring someone to come up with something better than that.¡± ¡°Appreciated.¡± ______ James asked around for a bit to find the next person he wanted to talk to. Which wasn¡¯t hard to do, there were a lot of people in today. With the issue of the badly named wizard plague resolved, or at least contained for now, and James pronounced uninfectious, the Lair had gone back to its usual bustle of chaotic energy. People prepping for delves, working on construction projects, showing new members or newly liberated camracondas or ratroaches around, experimenting with magic, gardening, eating lunch, or just hanging out because this was an awesome clubhouse to hang out in. It wasn¡¯t so busy that it got overwhelming, but there were no shortage of small moments where he could catch someone¡¯s attention and ask a quick question. Surprisingly, there weren¡¯t many people in the Order that were known to have the knowledge that James needed right now. And google hadn¡¯t really been much help, which was kind of disappointing for once in his life. He let the increasingly busy elevator go over to Scent-Of-Rain and her youth group, who were clearly up to something fun, but James didn¡¯t want to stall the camraconda matron by asking what it was. He just gave an ¡®after you¡¯ gesture to the elevator doors, and let the mixed group of human and camraconda kids relegate him to the stairs. Not that he could complain. James suspected that at this point, it was impossible for him to be unable to use stairs. The magic overlaid on his body just didn¡¯t support that small failure. And besides, once he found the right stairwell, he was going down, and it wasn¡¯t that hard on his aching legs anyway. James used the time to catch up on new green orbs that had been used on the lair. It was a surprisingly short list; he kind of figured that the Order would be putting all of them into this building. But someone must be saving them for something, because there were only a handful of new effects on the place. James rapidly found ones that he mentally flagged as favorites to ask about. [Local Area Shift : +4.2 Liters / Day - Coffee - Kona Blend - Hot] [Local Area Shift : -1 Accident / Year - Lethal] ¡°That¡¯s so much fucking coffee.¡± His voice echoed off the concrete of the stairwell. Someone had tried decorating the place once, and that had been undone rapidly when someone else who knew fire safety codes found out. So it was bare concrete walls, mostly. ¡°Where the fuck does the cofffee go?¡± James joked to himself, but really, he was kinda satisfied. Because at least now they knew one way that Officium Mundi probably restocked itself. More important was the fact that someone wouldn¡¯t die, once a year. James marked that one and sent a note to Reed to maybe consider de-listing it. Knowing that safety net existed, especially without knowing if it was still active or not, could only cause more problems than it would solve. It was an actual cognitohazard, which was weird to think about. He¡¯d always figured when the Order made a thought that was dangerous to have, it would be more splashy than just something that could subconsciously cause a disregard for safety standards. James passed by a trio of responders as he got to the bottom of the stairs and headed out into the cool basement. He realized, suddenly, that none of them were wearing armor. Not obvious armor, anyway. They all had authorities on their person somewhere as gloves or coats, the strange infomorphs not spending any effort to hide their presence. And he was sure at least one of them was wearing shield braces. But aside from that, their ¡®uniform¡¯ was changing away from the plastic shell riot armor the Order wore into dungeons, and more toward what a civilian peacekeeping group probably should look like. Non threatening, but visible. ¡°We need a logo.¡± James mentally sent Karen an email to get on hiring a graphic designer sooner rather than later. He was getting better and better at using his skulljack for small things like this, and James was starting to understand just how effective some of the people who¡¯d been practicing with it constantly ever since they got them could be. That was a thought for later, though. He finished his long trek down the halls and past the storage and activity rooms to a heavy soundproofed door that had been installed fairly recently. He took a set of ear protection from a rack on the wall before he went in, and made his way onto the floor of the Order¡¯s shooting range. ¡°Hey, Nik!¡± James called to one of the two people in the room. ¡°You got a minute?¡± Nikhail looked up from where he was standing on the firing line, as he slotted a cylinder into the grenade launcher he was holding and snapped it closed, carefully keeping his finger off the trigger and the weapon pointed down. ¡°What?!¡± He called back. ¡°Oh! Hey James!¡± Nik snapped the forty millimeter launcher open again with what a rough move and wiggled the munition out, setting it on the surface in front of him along with the weapon. ¡°Hey John! Take a break!¡± He called to the other end of the shooting range. The man standing out next to one of the paper targets, wearing enough armor padding to soak up a tank shell, cocked his head to the side. ¡°What?¡± He yelled back. ¡°A break! Take a break!¡± Nik waved him off the range. ¡°Oh! Sure!¡± The young man that James instantly labeled as a kid in his head started heading around the side to the door back to their side of the range, while Nik approached him and took his earmuffs off. The first thing James realized as Nik approached was that the man was trying to grow some kind of facial hair. He kept the thought that Nik should probably not be doing that to himself as the Researcher grinned at him. ¡°Hey. You¡¯re alive! What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Your face has been parasitized by something horrible.¡± James said before he could stop himself. Nik rubbed at his face with a concerned look before he felt his mustache. Then he burst out laughing, taking the abrupt comment in good stride. ¡°Fuck you! Also yeah, okay, I may have¡­ messed up some of the shaper substance things.¡± He admitted. ¡°Either that, or I¡¯m just destined to not have a cool beard no matter what gender I make myself.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kinda a shame.¡± James winced in pity. ¡°You know, Deb¡¯s made a lot of progress¡­¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, sure. I¡¯ll get around to it at some point. Honestly, I¡¯m thinking of just making myself a wolf and going with that. I mean, you know, if I can do it without dying.¡± Nik waved a hand. James raised his eyebrows. ¡°Is this the part where I start to have a slowly dawning realization that everyone who works for me is a furry?¡± He paused, and then thought about it. ¡°Wait, actually, TQ had a really fast answer when I asked him what animal he¡¯d be¡­ is everyone in this building a furry? Is this what¡¯s happening? No, wait, I had another question! Were you just about to blow up John? Is this what happens when Researchers accidentally ruin a potion batch or something?¡± ¡°In no particular order,¡± Nik started ticking off points on his fingers, ¡°we don¡¯t work for you, we¡¯re testing the friendly fire power on the gun bangle with the grenade launcher since we finally had a charge available to bind a new weapon, you are also a furry, and I just said ¡®wolf¡¯, not, like, werewolf or anything. Also Davis thinks it¡¯s stupid, so it¡¯s not everyone.¡± Reserving judgment on Davis¡¯ personal tastes, James nodded. ¡°Okay. So, I have an actual question unrelated to this, and no one has good answers for me somehow.¡± ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°Can a military grade transport helicopter or, perhaps, fighter jet, run its engine on regular unleaded gasoline?¡± Nik stared at him for a second, eyes narrowing to slits as he sort of cautiously pulled his body language back. ¡°¡­like, fly?¡± He asked slowly. ¡°Because no, that would be stupid.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, I figured that part, I¡¯m just wondering if the engine would¡­ I dunno the technical term. Turn over?¡± ¡°Engage.¡± ¡°Sure. Like, would it be able to sustain the process using normal gas, even if it wasn¡¯t a strong enough source to turn the rotors or whatever.¡± Nik straightened up with a flash of comprehension. ¡°Ooooh! No. Sorry, no. You¡¯re missing the important thing. You have mechanic skills, right?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for James to answer that he only sort of did. ¡°You know how the process of the engine moving is sort of analogous to a heart, where the reaction itself is both a source of energy, but also the thing that keeps the reaction going? Like, its own process helps its process work? Okay, aircraft do the same thing. If you want an F-15 engine to run, it actually needs a strong enough fuel to make the engine turn, because if it¡¯s not strong enough it¡¯s not just gonna make the craft not fly, it¡¯s gonna make the engine not turn at all, and the whole thing just kinda seizes up. So no, sorry, to whatever you were thinking.¡± ¡°Well bollocks.¡± James sighed, stealing his boyfriend¡¯s favorite epithet. ¡°There goes my plan.¡± ¡°What was your plan?¡± Nik sounded dreadfully curious. ¡°Use the ball teleport to start snagging derelict fighter jets out of the aircraft boneyard in Arizona, then fill them with Horizon gas until they work again, then¡­ I¡¯ll be honest, that was as far as I¡¯d gotten.¡± Nik nodded slowly. ¡°Two things.¡± He said. ¡°First, you need an end point to that plan. Second, you know we have a blue orb we can copy that gives the refine liquid power when absorbed, yeah?¡± ¡°I thought we lost that one?¡± James made a hum of thought. ¡°Also would that even work? What does that one do? I know it doesn¡¯t work on potions. Or so I overheard someone saying, and I probably misremember.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s one of maybe three things that works on potions, but it just makes the mouth feel less like drinking a blended textbook.¡± Nik grimaced. James also grimaced. ¡°Wait, one of three? What doesn¡¯t work?¡± ¡°Most things don¡¯t work on potions. Blue orbs specifically don¡¯t work cause you can¡¯t make magic food with them.¡± Nik clarified. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Really. It just never works, no matter what. Oh! Though! We did manage to make a magic vending machine!¡± Nik seemed really excited about that one, clapping his hands and rubbing them together like he had a big reveal to make. ¡°Does it make food?¡± James asked suspiciously. Nik shook his head vigorously, wiry black hair dancing around his head. ¡°Nope! It just always gives you what you most want from it, even if you didn¡¯t know what you really wanted.¡± ¡°That¡­¡± James had a long list of thoughts on how that could possibly go wrong. What if it gave you something you wanted but were allergic to? What if you didn¡¯t really want anything, and so the magic was just changing your mind to actually want something else? What if it was just mind control and whatever you bought it made you think you wanted more than anything else? What if Research had made an addicting vending machine? For some reason, right now, he wasn¡¯t exactly feeling charitable toward weird magical effects that might be screwing with people without their consent. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°We broke the vending machine.¡± Nik said with a sad shake of his head. ¡°Thank fuck.¡± James sighed. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m gonna go put in a formal request for the gas thing. You¡­ you keep doing your thing.¡± He patted Nik on the shoulder, the younger man grinning and brightening up as James turned to leave. ¡°Thanks for the help!¡± ¡°No problem!¡± Nik called, before turning back and clapping his noise canceling earmuffs back on and heading back to his firing post. ¡°Alright John! You ready to get this going?¡± He got a thumbs up from where John as the other guy finished a drink of water and waddled his armored form back to the range. Nik double checked the camera feeds they had set up, and cleared his throat as he slid the grenade back into its slot. The last thing James heard before the door swung shut behind him was ¡°Test four, incendiary! Firing in three, two¡­!¡± _____ James spent the rest of his afternoon checking in with Banana. The poor girl had been one of the people who¡¯d gotten away with not being exposed to the disease that had torn through the Lair, but the emotionally fragile wasp crow hadn¡¯t really had a good time coping with being trapped. Even if she didn¡¯t leave her hospital room much anyway, Deb locking her in and then collapsing had been terrifying for the poor kid. So James visited, and sat with her while she talked about skunks through her digital voice box. Banana¡¯s obsession with Animal Planet over everything else was adorable to both him and basically anyone who met her, and he had basically no issue being barraged by a litany of skunk facts. After she ran out of skunk facts, her mood had pivoted on a dime, and she¡¯d practically cried when she showed James the stuffed shark he¡¯d given her. It had a number of holes in it, from where her claws or beak had carelessly stabbed into the plush animal when she was curled up with it in her sealed room. Banana had tried to apologize in both her voices, but had rapidly exhausted herself and fallen asleep before James could really tell her that it was okay. He¡¯d slipped out of the room, found a few things he needed, and spent the next hour making use of his skill rank in sewing to bring the shark back to life. It wasn¡¯t really that hard, and he felt kinda silly now that knew what he was doing that he hadn¡¯t ever learned this before. He could have saved a lot of pairs of pants. But, like Anesh had crystallized for him so long ago, there was just something a lot more fun about learning when you already knew what you were doing. James waited by Banana¡¯s bedside for her to wake up, passing the time reading a hard copy report Deb had put in about the shaper substance progress. She was being paranoid about it, but fundamentally, they were ready to start not just doing small tests, but fully using it. Every advantage the Order could give; skill orbs, painkillers, potions, skulljack aid, custom grown programs to help guide the process, even a pair of totems Momo had made to inform about pain levels; all of it Deb had turned from rough ideas into a protocol for how to take a person from one body to another in a way that would keep the shaper substance from inflicting them with chronic pain, and wouldn¡¯t take a dozen followup treatments. The more James learned about the shaper substance, the more he really hated the Akashic Sewer. Any single slip up during the process of changing yourself, and whatever it was you changed would hurt. Forever. Who made something like that? Well, a monster, he figured. But at least this particular monster was kind of a fucking idiot, and had still managed to hand the Order a tool that was absurdly powerful when they got ahold of it and could assign some of the smartest people around to make it work right. He got to the end of the report just before Banana woke up, and tried to repress the sudden anxiety he was feeling by presenting her with her newly reforged shark. The girl had unfurled her elytra wings and wrapped her arms around the stuffed animal with a buzzing squeak of delight, before thanking James repeatedly, threatening to exhaust herself all over again. He¡¯d just smiled and gently patted her feathered head before he had said his goodbye and headed out. James was making dinner for a bunch of people tonight, and he had to get home and get started on that. Probably go get groceries too. He had a suddenly very mundane checklist of things to do. He couldn¡¯t get rid of the anxiety of seeing that the first name on the list of people undergoing a full use of the shaper substance was Keeka. And that it was tomorrow. But¡­ no. James shook it off, and took a deep breath. There was always going to be a chunk of fear in his heart that something would go wrong. But something could always go wrong. Focusing on what might slip through the cracks of Deb¡¯s frankly impressie set of precautions was just going to be a waste of time. Instead, he should be focusing on finding a place that would sell him fresh rosemary so he could make really good garlic bread in a few hours. So James teleported out of the lair feeling pretty good about how the evening was going. Chapter 233 ¡°Waiting is useless. The crisis is here; pick a side.¡± -Esa Afontov, Netrunner- _____ James liked making food. He hadn¡¯t always; it had taken more than a few dungeon skills to kick him past the invisible line of competence where he could actually have some fun and not just struggle to not burn things. But now, it was great. More than just making food though, he liked sharing food with his friends. Making things for people, especially the people he loved, was rewarding in a way he couldn¡¯t really describe. There was just something that made him happy to put in effort and get out compliments from everyone. He had fuzzy memories of this being a thing his friend group had done for a long time, as far back as high school when the names and social web had been pretty different. But he had kind of assumed that it was them going out to eat, or ordering pizza together. It wasn¡¯t until he¡¯d realized how hard it was to remember clearly that he¡¯d asked Sarah, and found out that she also liked to cook. She¡¯d made food for him a hundred times, and all he had left were fuzzy recollections of time with friends. None of them with her face or voice in them. He¡¯d forgotten his friend and replaced her with Dominos pizza. ¡°Stop moping you mope!¡± Sarah said, passing behind him in their apartment¡¯s tiny kitchen. She wanted to hug him or at least nudge him with an elbow, but since James was currently using a rather large knife to peel and chop garlic, she just settled for a verbal jab instead. ¡°It¡¯s fine! We can make more friend memories now. Friendories. Friendemories. Memoriends¡­ no that one is bad.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t make me laugh while I¡¯m holding a knife.¡± James sucked in a smile. While he chopped garlic, he looked out over the kitchen¡¯s counter and across his living room to where the sliding glass door showed him a crappy view of a sliver of parking lot and a lot of grey freezing rain. Outside was, from the looks of things, deeply unpleasant right now. It contrasted nicely with the place he lived. Ever since the great purge of delver clutter from their living room, it had become a lot more comfortable to sit around it. It wasn¡¯t like there was no clutter at all; both Rufus and James did live here, and as a result, there were always going to be random piles of trading cards scattered on every flat surface available. But not having arms and armor piled in weird places did make it feel a lot cozier. A warm orange tinted glow from the room¡¯s lamps, internal heating aided by a green orb effect keeping them pleasantly warm, a pair of couches and one really big plush chair, and a table that was almost cleared of its normal nonsense and replaced with an actual table setting. It was still a space that showed off what their priorities were, because there was a TV framing the whole thing and Auberdeen and Alanna were watching episodes of Cowboy Bebop with the human trying to explain science fiction concepts to the dog, who probably wasn¡¯t just humoring her. Also, they¡¯d kept the ¡°work hard and also work hard¡± motivational poster that had been pulled out of Officium Mundi so long ago that James didn¡¯t remember who found it or wanted it. It just felt like theirs now. Like a part of his home. That, and a few other souvenirs, acted as a constant reminder of the truth of their lives. Like the necklace made out of sapphire snake fangs from Winter¡¯s Climb, the transplanted otherworldly cactus from Route Horizon, or the handful of DVD cases with hand drawn covers for tv shows they¡¯d found on computers in Officium Mundi. Things that came from somewhere else, but still made their home theirs. James finished making a pile of garlic, the smell of it overpowering everything else for him. He knew the place smelled like books and the lavender soap Anesh used and whatever the name for the scent of frantically catching up on vacuuming was, but right now, for him, it was garlic and nothing else. ¡°Trade ya!¡± He offered his cutting board to Sarah, who handed him back a different small platform with some tomatoes on it. The two of them had actually never worked in a kitchen together before, even counting missing memories. James was bad at cooking up until recently in his life. But right now, they were blending together like they¡¯d been born psychically linked, and they weren¡¯t even cheating and being actually psychically linked. James shuffled to the side as Sarah pivoted her hip and yanked the oven open with a magnetic field, before she slid the tray of garlic bread into the space with both hands and flipped it shut again. James held out a hand and a pepper grinder was deposited into it like he¡¯d never had to ask. Every time they moved, they stepped around each other like they were dancing. They also couldn¡¯t find any parmesan, which was intensely frustrating. ¡°I literally have magical memory!¡± James complained loudly as he drew on his Velocity magic for a tiny boost to his knife control. ¡°I cannot forget things! You do too! And we can¡¯t go to the store without fumbling half our list?¡± ¡°In our defense, it was kind of a long list.¡± Sarah was far less bothered by him. She¡¯d just sent Alanna on a jog to get more; the nearest grocery store was only a half mile away and Alanna took it as a challenge. ¡°And we got distracted arguing about ice cream.¡± ¡°Hardly an argument.¡± ¡°I challenged you to a duel in the freezer aisle!¡± Sarah retorted. James nodded, a goofy smile on his face. ¡°You did do that, yes.¡± He said, sliding his knife along his cutting board to scoop up a row of tomato slices, and one by one adding them to the caprese he was making. ¡°I did sort of assume you were joking because, and do not take this the wrong way, I can¡¯t really imagine you murdering someone for a personal slight?¡± ¡°Who¡¯s murdering who?¡± Anesh asked, two of him walking into the apartment¡¯s living room from down the hall as he buttoned up his shirts. Ganesh sat on one of his shoulders, the little living drone scratching his face against one of his rotor wings. ¡°Anesh save me.¡± James greeted his boyfriend. ¡°Sarah hates me now.¡± Both Anesh glanced at James for a single blink before shrugging and going over to claim seats on the couch. ¡°That¡¯s not even a little bit believable, and you know it.¡± Anesh said, before his other body tapped at his chin and added, ¡°Though that does sort of mean Sarah could get away with actually murdering you, doesn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°My plan is very devious.¡± Sarah confirmed with a nod, the bun her hair was pulled back in bobbing. ¡°I¡¯m getting revenge for something James did in high school.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fucking fair!¡± James laughed as he leaned over the kitchen sink to set the rectangular plate he was finished with up on the counter to join other small cold dishes. He almost dropped it when Alanna burst back in, tossing a block of cheese over his head to Sarah, but James snapped out a frozen arm and stabilize it. ¡°I don¡¯t even remember it, why should I be punished for it?¡± James finished once he made sure he wasn¡¯t about to spill fresh cheese all over his carpet. ¡°Ah, the Harlan method!¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°Nope. Not allowed.¡± ¡°I¡­ hm. Well shit, yeah, you got me there.¡± James conceded, turning to wash his hands and losing track of the conversation over the sound of rushing water as he let his extra arm melt away down the sink, and let the warm water warm his skin back up. He turned back to wipe his hands on a random towel lying around, listening to the sound of other¡¯s laughter from a joke he¡¯d missed. Wordlessly handing Sarah the hand towel as she slipped past him and out of the kitchen to run grab something from their second floor apartment¡¯s basement, James looked around again. ¡°What time is it?¡± He asked idly. ¡°Does anyone know when the others are-¡° A pop of displaced air cut through the room as three figures appeared amidst them. The telepad magic working effectively to turn what should have been a small localized thunderclap into a simple snapping sound. They landed just inside the door, and of the three, the two largest of them were instantly on edge. Arrush and Keeka were right away pushed back against each other shoulder to shoulder, sweeping their eyes around the apartment like anyone in it might be about to kill them. The skirt Keeka liked to wear spinning with him as he twisted to find people he recognized, while Arrush forced himself to relax as he sought James¡¯ eyes from across the room. The third figure was Rufus, who had already hopped off of the shoulder of Arrush¡¯s hoodie where he¡¯d been clinging during the teleport, and was crawling up one of the chains of paperclips on the wall to head down the hall toward some arcane goal. He waved at James on the way by, who waved back and gave him a companionable nod. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re here!¡± Alanna comically restated the obvious, in the tradition of people entertaining guests since the dawn of time. She threw her arms open in a slow motion while Sarah leaned on the fridge next to where Keeka was nervously shifting from foot to foot. ¡°Come on in, steal a seat. Relax or something.¡± ¡°Telling people to relax has never once, in the history of the human species, worked.¡± James pointed out to her. ¡°Also hi!¡± He smiled at Arrush, who¡¯s muzzle cracked into a slight toothy grin in reply. ¡°Why not?¡± Keeka asked, the hands that were clawing at his own arms loosening as he thought about the statement. ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Why does telling people to relax not work?¡± The wiry furred ratroach restated, titling his head, antenna cascading sideways as he framed the question. ¡°Oh! I think it¡¯s like telling someone to not be mad? It comes across as condescending and instantly puts people on edge, which is the opposite effect.¡± James explained. From the other side of the kitchen counter, Alanna dropped herself over the arm of a couch and landed with her head lightly abutting Auberdeen¡¯s flank. ¡°What about, as a random example, some kind of hypnosis thing?¡± She asked coyly. An Anesh looked at her from the other side of the dog, eyes narrowing. ¡°You used the tone you use when you get a skill rank.¡± He accused. ¡°Wait, are you hypnotizing us right now?¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Alanna honestly stated. ¡°Is your new skill something lewd?¡± James guessed. Alanna didn¡¯t answer for a long enough stretch that he knew he¡¯d gotten his answer. ¡°Alright. Hi Arrush! Hi Keeka! Welcome to my home! Seriously, though, jokes aside, come in. Sit somewhere. Slowly realize it¡¯s nice here and become comfortable but on your own timeline.¡± James glanced over at Sarah. ¡°Did I forget anything?¡± ¡°Offer them a hug!¡± Sarah stated, making the motion toward the ratroaches who were still looming by the front door that she was open to a good hug. She stood there for a good fifteen seconds as Keeka stared at her before he slowly realized that she wasn¡¯t kidding, and almost sheepishly took her up on the offer. ¡°Like that!¡± She explained to James. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s adorable, and yes Arrush you can have a hug later, but this apron isn¡¯t for show and I am covered in, like, tomato sauce and flour and stuff right now.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Go, sit, get Auberdeen to explain anime to you. I¡¯ll be over in a minute once I get the last thing started.¡± Slowly, they did so, both of them sitting n the far couch where James had a good view of them. Arrush actually did start talking to Auberdeen, and James realized he hadn¡¯t made the joke clear that Auberdeen couldn¡¯t actually talk back yet. Which, now that he thought about it, was sorta mean. Alanna explained for him though. All the while Sarah bustled around like she was a born hostess, starting to cover the table bit by bit in pitches of drinks or plates of food, explaining what was in iced tea to Arrush, and lighting an actual sconce of candles that she procured from somewhere. The last thing she explained was ¡°ambiance¡±, and refused to explain further as she stuck it in the middle of the table. ¡°You know Auberdeen is flammable, right?¡± Alanna reached her hands over her head to pet her impromptu pillow. ¡°You¡¯re all flammable with enough effort.¡± Sarah said, pointing the lighter she¡¯d used at Alanna before making it vanish with a twist of her wrist and a clap, grinning as she performed the slight of hand. Or what was probably slight of hand. It was, admittedly, kind of hard to tell these days if magic was stage performance or literal arcana. He didn¡¯t get a chance to ask as Sarah ran off to find the a gift they¡¯d gotten for Keeka and Arrush, which were some reusable metal straws that somewhat clashed with the ambiance of the fancy dishware, but were practical enough to make up for it. Soon enough, James got to a point where basically all he was doing was waiting a few minutes for noodles to boil before everything was ready. He took advantage of the short down time to find a spot to lean, sigh, and join back into the conversation he was only half part of. ¡°So, what did I miss while I was away, anyway?¡± He asked. ¡°Not the me-relevant stuff, I mean, how¡¯ve you all been? I¡­ I don¡¯t get to ask that very often. Like, only gone for a day or so, I know, but still. We don¡¯t do this much.¡± ¡°Yeah turns out building the future is a lot of work.¡± Alanna answered. ¡°Well, ignoring her,¡± Anesh kicked his feet up onto Alanna¡¯s couch, overlapping his legs with hers in a way that was very much not ignoring her, ¡°it was mostly okay. The apartments in the basement are getting a big courtyard garden, which was fun, but we put that on hold while the wizard plague happened.¡± ¡°Please, no, we can¡¯t call it that.¡± James protested. ¡°Deb has a name for it, but really, you know what people are gonna say.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Um¡­ someone else upgraded a Status Quo glove with a blue. We have a whole stack of copied greens that we¡¯re going to add to the lair, though we¡¯re going to let a bunch of new recruits do it to spread out the skill ranks. What else? Alanna?¡± ¡°You¡¯re quitting your job!¡± Alanna reminded him. ¡°Eventually, I guess. Figured you¡¯d be here by now.¡± Both of Anesh¡¯s bodies nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be joining us in an hour or so. Probably gonna take some time to sync up, too.¡± One of him noticed Arrush giving a confused look to Keeka, and the smaller ratroach slowly reaching out a paw like he was going to say something before receding back. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m guessing you have a question?¡± Anesh said it with an open tone, making it clear he was okay with being asked. ¡°How¡­ are you the same?¡± Keeka slowly asked. ¡°Knew there were many of you, but¡­¡± the ratroach looked around the room, then shrugged. James also took a minute to remember that only about half the people here were human, and that number probably skewed if you counted Anesh as one person. Not having clear answers on what everyone was or how they operated was actually probably going to be a pretty normal way of life in the future. There were going to be a lot of small conversations about how different species of infomorph viewed things, or what foods someone¡¯s new ratroach partner were allergic to, or how it worked to have a one night stand with a hive mind. That was kinda cool. But also it was probably going to be the sort of thing that would require patience, understanding, and the ability to not get exhausted answering similar questions repeatedly. Which, for Anesh, was fine. Anesh had been in college for the same general subject for something like twenty years if James was counting right. Anesh was the most patient, caring person that James knew. But personally, he wasn¡¯t looking forward to hearing someone ask him how it felt to share his brain with a mental parasite for the hundredth time and finally snapping and throwing the question asker into traffic. ¡°So, I have a weird power from an absorbed orange orb¡­ uh, the orange orbs are an Officium Mundi thing, that give you either a certification if you break them, or a repeatable ¡®job¡¯ if you absorb them¡­ and my reward for completing the job is it makes a copy of this body.¡± Anesh explained. ¡°It¡¯s sorta limited, as I learned when we tried to also make a copy of James, who really wanted to-¡° ¡°I wanted to have two of me so bad!¡± James burst out, cutting in briefly. ¡°Do you know what you can do with two of yourself!?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± An Anesh retook control of the conversation, while the other perched over the back of the smaller love seat he was on to glower James into silence. ¡°The point is that I can make more of me, but then they¡¯re different people, who just started as me. And none of me like that idea, so instead of letting that happen, we use the skulljacks to form into a kind of full hive mind whenever we have the chance, and sort of refresh ourselves to being the same person.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°It shares most of our magic, too, which I guess is the gold standard for this sort of thing. Of if we¡¯re ¡®Anesh¡¯ or just people who think we¡¯re Anesh.¡± ¡°Are you?¡± Keeka asked. ¡°Am I Anesh?¡± Anesh asked, and Keeka gave a curious nod, the ratroach becoming more animated and less curled in on himself as the two of them spoke. ¡°I think so. Is that enough? I dunno sometimes. Are you Keeka?¡± ¡°Who else would I be?¡± Keeka¡¯s question was both confused, and utterly earnest. Then he turned his chitin plated snout down at the table. ¡°Oh. Is this about being different?¡± He asked. ¡°I am a different me than I was, aren¡¯t I? But I¡¯m still me.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Exactly.¡± He said. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s kinda dumb and I get the impression a lot of the dungeon magic kinda actively hates the way I mess with stuff. But nothing bad has happened yet!¡± From the adjacent couch, Alanna rolled herself over, propping up on one elbow to give an incredulous look. ¡°Anesh, I fucking love you. I would commit war crimes for you.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t?¡± ¡°But you seriously cannot say things like that here.¡± James nodded as he checked the pasta he was supposedly about to serve them all. Almost done; he stared into the bubbling water as he added his own voice to the conversation. ¡°Yeah, every time we say ¡®what could possibly go wrong¡¯, something does. It¡¯s not a superstition when it¡¯s actually happening. I think it might be natural magic.¡± He pulled the heavy pot off the stove and went to drain it. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this. Natural magic isn¡¯t a thing.¡± Alanna retorted. This time, Arrush was the one who asked. ¡°What¡­ is?¡± ¡°Oh, there¡¯s this running theory that the things in our mythology might actually be real, but not dungeon constructs?¡± Anesh explained. Sarah dove in again. ¡°Yeah, like mermaids!¡± ¡°The¡­ dolphin women?¡± Arrush wanted to make sure he was on the right page. ¡°Fish in general. And I guess they don¡¯t have to be women.¡± Sarah conceded. ¡°Merfolk?¡± ¡°Merfolk are possible.¡± James conceded. ¡°It¡¯s not like we know what¡¯s in most of the oceans. I feel like fish-dungeon is entirely possible.¡± He transferred the pasta to a serving dish and moved it out to the table, a subtle pressure leaving him as he stepped out of the kitchen, and knew that his job was done for a while. He joined them, and pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table in front of their TV that was still playing something even though it had long since been muted. Auberdeen liked subtitles better anyway. Alanna was still trying to list things that probably weren¡¯t real, Sarah was giggling and trying to add increasingly improbable things to the list, and Arrush was trying to explain to the apparently blind humans that dragons were concretely real. There was a lighthearted warmth in the air that had nothing to do with the smell of garlic bread and fresh basil. ¡°I like this.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice whispered from James¡¯ shoulder. The navigator had been in a sleeping state for the last day and a half, and was finally waking up, even if he was clearly still weakened. Dusty orange light and the brush of feathers on his skin making Zhu¡¯s presence known. ¡°Even if it¡¯s¡­ local.¡± ¡°Okay, rude.¡± James laughed softly. ¡°You doing okay?¡± He followed up in a quiet voice. ¡°I will live. Which I appreciate. I like living, so far.¡± Zhu said. ¡°I will need to figure out what to do with the fifteen skill points I have acquired.¡± James nodded. ¡°Same. Though I think I¡¯m a little higher. I should make a count before I forget.¡± He tried, and failed, to avoid thinking about the sensation of his skin sliding away from his face. Shuddering, he looked up at a poke from Zhu to see everyone else watching him with varying degrees of attention. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± He asked. ¡°So¡­ food?¡± Alanna raised her eyebrows, greedily eying the table James and Sarah had set. ¡°Oh! Food!¡± James said. ¡°Yeah, sorry, I spaced out there. Uh¡­ just take whatever looks good?¡± An Anesh poked James¡¯ leg with the toe of his foot. ¡°You should explain what the pastas are to Arrush and Keeka, because they will not know.¡± He strategically offered. Arrush folded his arms and imperiously tilted his snout up into the air. ¡°I know what pasta is!¡± He declared, defending the limited knowledge of human cuisine that he¡¯d acquired in his time on Earth. ¡°But¡­ explain to Keeka.¡± He blinked, his eyes both bulging and beady sharing a joking spark as he wrapped an arm around his boyfriend¡¯s back, the other ratroach hissing and flushing green at the public affection. Coming to the rescue of everyone who apparently hadn¡¯t seen spaghetti before, James snorted and started pointing to stuff on the table. ¡°The red one is a meat sauce, it¡¯s got a lot of garlic in it. The white one is a wine and lemon sauce, it¡¯s gonna be thinner, and I don¡¯t actually know how to describe the flavor. Everything else on the table is what it is, and no one is allergic to anything, unless Alanna lied to me again about another fruit, or Auberdeen eats the things she knows she isn¡¯t supposed to eat.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know!¡± ¡°Woof!¡± ¡°So yeah, just¡­ mix and match as you will.¡± He started by serving himself, adding noodles and sauce and garlic bread to his plate, with an amount of salad more out of guilt over everything else than because he really wanted salad. And then he just let himself fall into the pattern of passing bowls around, letting his friend¡¯s voices rise to fill the room, and listening to the clink of silverware on dishes. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. And then, finally, he let himself start to relax. He was home, he didn¡¯t have anything he needed to do until the absolute wall of waiting tasks assaulted him tomorrow, and he had finished making food for the people he liked. And now, he could just sit, and eat, and let everyone else talk while he tried to pretend he didn¡¯t want to fall face first into his plate of pasta and take a nap. Around him, his friends ate and complimented him and Sarah and laughed and talked. Sarah, being herself, seemed to have a personal goal of making Arrush and Keeka feel comfortable and happy. As he watched them and ate his own dinner, James started to realize with that thought process powered by a fuzzy haze of mental exhaustion that everyone¡¯s methodology for getting food was a little different. Anesh was methodical about it, Alanna took a little of everything up front and didn¡¯t seem to care if her food got mixed up a little, Sarah seemed to directly try to get the flavors to blend. Arrush took a few tries to figure out how to get a good grip with tongs made for human hands and not claws, and then served Keeka first. Auberdeen had a plate made for her, but never stopped trying to convince everyone to add to it, apparently having replaced her stomach with an event horizon. It was, he decided, a good way to tell a lot about someone. Assuming you already knew enough about them to interpret it. ¡°Hey, you alive sleepybutt?¡± Sarah settled herself around James¡¯ shoulders like a scarf as she passed behind him, careful not to crush Zhu¡¯s lazily dozing manifestation as she did so. ¡°You look half asleep.¡± ¡°Oh, uh, no. I was listening to Anesh talk about his book to Auberdeen.¡± James said, leaning back. ¡°That was five minutes ago.¡± Alanna informed him bluntly. From the couch on his left, Arrush gave James a worried look, tearing his gaze away from the floor behind the table where Keeka was kneeling beside Auberdeen and lavishing the shaggy beast with pets. ¡°You seem¡­ tired?¡± The ratroach asked with a cautious voice. James nodded. ¡°Yes. Wait, no, are you asking if tired is the right word, or if I¡¯m tired?¡± ¡°Asking if¡­ I can say you are tired?¡± Arrush ventured. ¡°Oh. Yeah, you can say that.¡± James was afraid to ask, but did anyway. ¡°Whhhhy would you not be allowed to say that?¡± Alanna aimed a fork at James before tipping it down to spear a meatball and dropping it on her empty place to mop up bits of sauce with. ¡°Because trauma.¡± She stated. ¡°This cannot be surprising to you.¡± ¡°It seems rude to just assume everything is a trauma response.¡± James said defensively. Keeka peeked up from behind the couch, his antenna announcing his attention before the rest of his head caught up. ¡°Most of us¡­ most of our thoughts are¡­ traumatic.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s getting better.¡± Arrush added, twisting to look out over the back porch and away from everyone else. James felt an overwhelming wave of sorrow at the motion, until he noticed that Arrush¡¯s pointed muzzle was ringed with the aftermath of his meal. Like lipstick, if lipstick could stain tan fur, and was mostly tomato based. ¡°You, uh¡­¡± He tapped at his own lips. ¡°You have a little¡­¡± Arrush looked back at him with a puzzled tilt of his head, confusion mounting as Alanna noticed too and started cracking up. Giving the poor ratroach a merciful fast explanation, Sarah pushed off James¡¯ back with a mutual ¡°Oof¡± and reached out to hand Arrush one of the spare napkins. ¡°You¡¯ve got sauce on your face.¡± She said with a grin. ¡°Which I think means we did a good job!¡± She turned and made a motion that had James reflexive high five her, before staring at his hand like he didn¡¯t know why he¡¯d done that. ¡°Good job, team kitchen!¡± ¡°We cannot name our team that.¡± James protested. ¡°We need a cooler team name.¡± ¡°Team Hot And Saucy?¡± Alanna offered. ¡°Which one of them is which?¡± Anesh asked her, the other two Anesh each pointing at Sarah and James respectively. James hadn¡¯t actually noticed when a third Anesh had shown up, but apparently it had happened while he was eating in some kind of dazed state. Alanna cleared her throat. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°If that¡¯s their team name, which of them is Hot, and which is Saucy?¡± James interjected while Alanna was trying to formulate an answer. ¡°A, that¡¯s not how team names work.¡± He said. ¡°B, what Alanna wants to say is the word ¡®both¡¯, but she¡¯s busy worrying about it, so I¡¯m saying it for her. C¡­ Sarah, I¡¯ll get back to you later on team names?¡± ¡°Kay!¡± Sarah squeaked out, ducking down the stairs into their basement. ¡°That basement makes me so fucking nervous.¡± James muttered, looking out the second floor window to the darkening outside before looking back at the stairs. ¡°Why?¡± Keeka asked him. ¡°Because I¡¯m, like, absolutely sure that when I move out, the property manager is going to be angry. And that bothers me for some reason? Like, I don¡¯t want to make people upset, and I don¡¯t have a good way to handle it.¡± ¡°James is weirdly afraid of talking to people.¡± Alanna filled in as she offered a questing Auberdeen an olive as a peace offering to keep the dog away from the fourth slice of garlic bread she was wolfing down. It didn¡¯t work, and she ended up pushing the overly intelligent dog away with one hand while yelling around her food. ¡°You know this will kill you! Stop trying to eat it! Oh my god, you fucking idiot! Here, have a meatball!¡± Everyone else abandoned Alanna to her fate, with Arrush and James preemptively shifting their drink glasses away from the part of the table her fight was happening on. James watched the brawl go down, sipping at his tea placidly while Arrush tensed up next to him. ¡°Hey.¡± He murmured to the big ratroach, getting a twitch of some of Arrush¡¯s eyes in his direction in reaction. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. One of the benefits of¡­ I guess just trusting in general?¡­ is that stuff like this becomes an act of compassion and not aggression.¡± ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± Arrush stopped himself from stammering out words, and hissed in a long breath through his fangs. ¡°How?¡± He asked, after steadying himself and silently watching Alanna and Auberdeen roll off the couch and under the table with a thump. ¡°When I was a kid, I had a lot of Calvin and Hobbes comic books.¡± James started, and then noticed Arrush¡¯s rows of eyes narrow at him. ¡°I¡¯m going somewhere with this. There¡¯s a line in one of them, where Calvin finds a snake, and wants to know more about it. He thinks about going to the library to get a book on snakes, but stops, because he knows he doesn¡¯t like the way his school is teaching him things, and libraries and books sounds a lot like school.¡± James snorted out a single laugh. ¡°His friend tells him ¡®if no one makes you do it, learning counts as fun¡¯. And that line has stuck with me for most of my life.¡± He reached over and set a hand on Arrush¡¯s back, feeling the ratroach tense briefly, and then push back against his hand through the material of his hoodie. ¡°When no one makes you do it, then it¡¯s an opportunity for something else. Expression, fun, companionship. Just¡­ just goofing around¡­ anything like that. Those two aren¡¯t fighting for any real reason - fucks sake we just watched both of them eat enough food to put someone into a coma, they aren¡¯t hungry - they¡¯re just goofing off.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t think fighting can be fun for me.¡± Arrush admitted in a wet whisper that made him sound ashamed of it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be!¡± James gave him a comforting smile, pushing himself out of his chair and standing up just as another thump sounded below them and his chair fell over, followed by Alanna swearing and Anesh yelping some kind of panicked requests for them to stop. ¡°That¡¯s sort of what I mean about trust. If either of them want it to stop, it does. Like now, since my girlfriend apparently injured herself. You okay?¡± He asked Alanna, who sprawled out on her back, head sticking out from under where his chair had been a second ago. ¡°I hit my head.¡± ¡°Oooh, that¡¯s a good excuse for a lot of things!¡± ¡°I hate you.¡± ¡°No you don¡¯t.¡± James smiled at her. ¡°Auberdeen, you okay down there?¡± A mournful quiet howl sounded for a second. ¡°Auberdeen¡¯s fine.¡± He nodded. ¡°Anyway. Who wants to help me with dishes?¡± He waved off his boyfriend even as he said it. ¡°Not you Anesh, you have a thing to do.¡± ¡°You cooked!¡± Sarah exclaimed as she ascended the stairs from the basement, whatever embarrassment she had felt earlier gone. ¡°You don¡¯t have to clean! Those have always been the rules!¡± ¡°First off, I¡¯m applying Harlan¡¯s Rule here-¡° ¡°You absolutely cannot call it that.¡± Anesh interrupted him, the three of him stacking their plates in a smooth motion like he was a single person with six hands and setting them on the end of the table. James glowered. ¡°Second of all, I¡¯ve got a skill rank in it. I know how to do dishes, it¡¯s kinda meditative.¡± ¡°I have another question.¡± Arrush started, and James beamed at him expectantly. He was getting better at social interactions, but Arrush still found the utter openness James expressed much of the time to be hard to fully believe. ¡°Does having a¡­ a magic-skill¡­ mean you need to do that thing?¡± He glanced over at Keeka, who was settling back in to a corner of the couch, smoothing his skirt out. ¡°Because¡­¡± Arrush trailed off, not explaining his trepidation. Alanna laughed as she picked herself up off the floor, muscles in her arms showing well defined tone against the tee shirt she was wearing. ¡°Hah! Nooooo. Because if they did, I think Anesh has a skill for warships or something? And he¡¯d have to spend all his time standing on a bridge in Portland and ogling the ass ends of every boat coming through.¡± ¡°Those are called stern looks.¡± James nodded. Whatever Anesh had been about to say died in a choking laugh as James¡¯ pun caught up to him. ¡°Alright.¡± He huffed out. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go make sure I¡¯m a single person. You have fun.¡± The three of him started heading back toward the bedroom he shared with James and Alanna, two of his instances taking a moment to give quick kisses to each of his partners. ¡°And thanks for dinner!¡± All of him chorused back at James and Sarah. ¡°Your boyfriend is adorable.¡± Sarah told him. ¡°I know, right?¡± James smirked as he started collecting plates, the part of his brain that needed everything to be neat stacking them orderly even though he was just going to throw them all in the dishwasher in the next five minutes. ¡°Anyway, answering Arrush¡¯s question, no, you don¡¯t need to do things you have skills for.¡± James shrugged as he carried his pile into the kitchen, and smiled to himself as Arrush got up and started bringing more of their dirty dishes over from the table without being asked. He could have asked Alanna, but his girlfriend would have groused about it even if she would have helped in the end anyway. This was nicer. ¡°I¡¯ve got skills for a dozen things I have no idea how to work into my life. Like, seriously, who actually needs a lawnmower fixed? I can do it! I never have, but I can!¡± ¡°Do you miss it?¡± Arrush asked. The words came out quiet, and he had to repeat himself over the sound of the sink and clinking dishes as James rinsed off plates. ¡°Does it not feel¡­ like missing something?¡± James shrugged, and then handed Arrush a dish towel. ¡°Here, dry pans and set them here.¡± He said. ¡°Also I dunno? I don¡¯t feel like it. So I don¡¯t know why I said I don¡¯t know! I have no desire to repair lawnmowers. Or half the skills I have, really. I put the card counting skill to use once for real. There¡¯s just so many random things.¡± Arrush nodded, keeping a constant row of eyes on Keeka over the counter as he assisted James. ¡°I have¡­ many of those too, now. A rank in¡­ in horses.¡± ¡°From the Library, or the Office?¡± James asked curiously. ¡°Office. The skill version.¡± Arrush¡¯s muzzle peeled back to a toothy smile, bands of chitin flexing as his face twisted in amusement. ¡°I know what a bridle is. How to set a saddle. Horseshoes. I have never seen a horse.¡± That statement seemed weird to James. ¡°Wait, hang on. In person, or at all? Like, surely you¡¯ve seen a horse in a movie or something?¡± ¡°I¡­ I¡­ have not watched a movie.¡± The exposed patches of skin around Arrush¡¯s eyes flushed green as he slumped. ¡°Everyone talks about movies. I know what they are. But it¡­ asking is hard?¡± ¡°There is so much to unpack there.¡± James muttered. ¡°You absolutely can ask about movies. I think there¡¯s a weekly movie night at the Lair? It¡¯s labeled as ¡®explain films to camracondas¡¯, but you are also¡­ oh holy shit, you probably thought you weren¡¯t invited, huh?¡± Arrush nodded. ¡°We¡¯re changing that name.¡± James sighed. ¡°So, you miss riding a horse, even though you never have?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Arrush considered it. ¡°I think¡­ I think if you needed a horse rider, I would be the choice.¡± He took a pot James handed him, and found a second dish towel so that two of his claws could dry it in a quick pair of motions. ¡°Do you have a horse?¡± That was a good question. ¡°Dave might.¡± James said as he thought about it. ¡°But also, you¡¯re basically describing how the whole Order works, you know? People pick up new weird skills or paranormal abilities all the time, and then we move to the places that we can do the most good in. But also the places we want to be, sorta?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t actually want to be a horse rider.¡± Arrush confided in him as he leaned around James to set the pot on the drying rack. There was a small moment where he brushed against James back, both of them wondering if the other had noticed it. ¡°Good news, we don¡¯t really need one of those.¡± James smiled and sighed as he turned the sink off and dried his hands, looking over the apartment. ¡°Where¡¯d Alanna go?¡± He asked suddenly. ¡°She took Auberdeen out for a walk while you were distracted.¡± Sarah told him, looking up from the couch where she was curled with her feet under her body opposite Keeka in roughly the same pose. Her phone was in her hand, and she was deftly flicking through a half dozen different things she was reading or people she was texting. ¡°Also hush, because Keeka is sleeping.¡± There was a short moment where James realized that Keeka was not only sleeping, but also lightly drooling on his couch. And he had the uncharitable thought that maybe he should wake him up before a hole got melted through his cushions. But then, what were couches for if not slowly being dissolved by your friends? That was mostly a rhetorical question. He was pretty sure he had a skill for couches. But, as his conversation with Arrush had pointed out, just because a dungeon decided to make you good at something didn¡¯t mean you had to listen to it. And looking at Keeka curled up around one of the soft pillows, digitigrade legs sticking out from under his skirt, a whistling snore coming from him as his chest rose and fell in rapid motions, it was really hard to make an argument for waking him up. ¡°Your boyfriend is also adorable.¡± James conspiratorially whispered to Arrush. ¡°He¡¯s tired.¡± Arrush sounded¡­ sad, for some reason? James gave him a questioning look as the towering ratroach leaned forward, several of his claws grabbing onto the edge of the kitchen counter. ¡°He couldn¡¯t sleep. He has¡­ he is¡­ tomorrow is his surgery day.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± James started to nod before the words caught up. ¡°Ah. The full use of the shaper substance?¡± Arrush nodded, eyes pressed closed. ¡°Are you doing okay?¡± He asked quietly. ¡°Me?¡± Arrush questioned. ¡°Yeah, you.¡± James tilted sideways and bumped his flank into Arrush with a comforting tap. ¡°Keeka¡­ he¡¯s been looking forward to this. We both know it, right? He¡¯s probably nervous, and excited, and we all know it¡¯ll go well. But¡­ that doesn¡¯t mean we know it, right?¡± Arrush tried to look away, but James caught the glowing hint of tears forming in his eyes. James frowned, a knot of worry forming in his chest. ¡°That¡¯s not what you¡¯re worried about, is it?¡± He asked carefully. Arrush sniffed wetly, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his hoodie, the fabric smoking as the liquid corroded it. ¡°What¡­ what if¡­¡± He struggled to get the words out; no longer bound by his own crippled lungs, but simply unable to express himself without hurting. ¡°When he changes. What if he¡­ doesn¡¯t want me anymore?¡± Arrush asked the question that James had basically no idea how to answer ¡®properly¡¯. So instead he answered like James would. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got two options.¡± He said bluntly, trying to make his sound lighthearted in the face of that massive downer. ¡°Either that happens, and it sucks, but at least you know right then and there that Keeka sucks and you don¡¯t want to date him.¡± Arrush flinched back, looking like he was considering stabbing James briefly. ¡°Or, alternately, the fucking cinnamon roll you¡¯re dating will be confused by the very nature of the question you¡¯ve just asked. Which seems more likely? Oh! We can ask!¡± James leaned forward, propping his forearms on the raised counter that separated him from the living room. ¡°Hey Sarah, can you-¡° ¡°N-no!¡± Arrush hissed. ¡°No. Y-you¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re right. I know. I just¡­¡± ¡°I know.¡± James had a sudden impulse to hug the big guy, and he acted on it with only a tiny hesitation. Stepping up behind Arrush and wrapping his arms around his chest, getting poked by ribs and chitin bands. Arrush sagged back into James with a sigh, like one hug could take away every worry he¡¯d ever had. And maybe it could. James knew as well as anyone how much it could suck to be starved for friendly contact. Arrush and Keeka had each other, but that didn¡¯t mean a hug wasn¡¯t a powerful form of comfort. And it wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t know what they both felt for him, anyway. He jumped slightly as two of Arrush¡¯s secondary arms, the ones that seemed to be able to lock into different joint configurations, grabbed at James¡¯ shoulder and hip, even though Arrush remained facing away from him. He always forgot, somehow, that the ratroaches tended to have more than the human standard number of limbs. But the touch wasn¡¯t unwelcome, and the two of them stood there until James felt his arms start to ache from overextending and pulled back. When he did, and got to see more than just the back of Arrush¡¯s hoodie, one of the first things he saw was Sarah with her elbows on the counter, head in her hands, beaming at him like an idiot. ¡°You two are so cute.¡± She whispered. James flushed red. ¡°Wait, why am I embarrassed by this?¡± He said, crossing his arms at her and continuing to be embarrassed. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be the flustered one!¡± ¡°James, you don¡¯t even know how long you¡¯ve known me, and you know that is not true about us.¡± Sarah told him, her smile undaunted. ¡°Arrush, help me.¡± James pled. ¡°¡­how?¡± Arrush turned to give him a confused look. ¡°I honestly did not think far enough ahead on this.¡± James said, suddenly stifling a yawn. ¡°I¡­ ah, hm. Welp. There goes that second wind.¡± He drooped, blinking for so long he considered turning it into a nap. He only realized he was swaying on his feet when Arrush caught him, and opened his eyes to see all seven concerned eyes of the ratroach looking at his face with worry. ¡°Hi.¡± James said with a lopsided grin. ¡°James go to bed.¡± Sarah told him, trying to pretend she was stern and failing. ¡°Weren¡¯t you also doing something tomorrow?¡± He nodded at her, yawning again. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve got a few things lined up. Actually my whole week is busy.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t¡­ didn¡¯t you almost die?¡± Arrush asked in a near whisper. ¡°Yup. And I¡¯m gonna pave over that emotional turmoil by solving problems and delving dungeons in rapid succession.¡± James admitted, walking out of the kitchen and taking the spot on the couch that had been Sarah¡¯s, the leftover body heat making it deeply pleasant in a way that made him wonder if he should have just taken her advice and gone the extra distance to his bed. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine.¡± He failed to assuage their fears. ¡°Liar.¡± Sarah called him out. ¡°You don¡¯t need to push all the time you know? It¡¯s okay to just take a real break. Everyone will understand, and the world won¡¯t end without you.¡± She saw James giving her an eye roll, and scoffed at him. ¡°I mean it! Don¡¯t make me make you take a day long nap!¡± She threatened. ¡°¡­can she do that?¡± Arrush asked as he tentatively and stiffly sat down between James and Keeka, a few hands settling on his boyfriend¡¯s outstretched legs. James nodded with a wince. ¡°Yeah, we share rest through our relationsticks. If I¡¯m not paying attention, she can make me drowsy for the whole day. Which she wouldn¡¯t do, because we are friends.¡± He stuck his nose in the air. Sarah didn¡¯t rise to the bait. ¡°We are friends. And friends make sure friends take vacations! You can¡¯t be at a hundred percent all the time, and you¡­ you did just have a bad experience.¡± She couldn¡¯t even figure out how to say the words for what had happened. ¡°And I know how it feels. I really do! You think that it doesn¡¯t matter if you need a break, because the world doesn¡¯t wait. And things need to happen. And you could do the things, right? If we don¡¯t do it, nobody will! But that only works until we burn out, and¡­ and we need to take care of ourselves.¡± Sarah nodded to herself, hands on her hips as she made her declaration. ¡°You need to rest. For real. And trust the people you elevated.¡± She turned and looked down at where James had stolen her spot, and saw that he was, in fact, already asleep. Sarah slowly rolled her neck, taking a roundabout path to look at Arrush, who was watching Keeka sleep. ¡°How far into my speech did he nod off?¡± She asked. Arrush opened his mouth like he was thinking of an answer, but then closed it and shook his head, wiping away a line of corrosive drool. ¡°Poop.¡± Sarah declared with a quiet laugh. ¡°Well at least he¡¯s sleeping.¡± Alanna and Auberdeen chose that moment to return to the apartment, Alanna quickly calibrating the stomping steps she made when she realized that there was a quiet feel to the apartment. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m back.¡± She announced, getting a woof from Auberdeen. ¡°We¡¯re back, yes.¡± Alanna rolled her eyes and corrected as she looked around the room and saw the two people sleeping on the couch. ¡°That¡¯s adorable.¡± She commented. ¡°That¡¯s about what I said.¡± Sarah agreed. ¡°You know, falling asleep on that couch together has a proven one hundred percent success rate of starting relationships?¡± Alanna waggled her eyebrows as she whispered conspiratorially to Sarah. ¡°By which I mean, James and me. Actually when we first learned about you, weirdly. This seems a lot less traumatic though, which is nice.¡± ¡°It is nice. They were hugging earlier.¡± Sarah whispered back. ¡°Yesssss.¡± Alanna hissed, making a light fist pump. ¡°I¡¯m fucking invested in this now.¡± ¡°Now?¡± ¡°Okay, for a while.¡± ¡°Well, don¡¯t push them.¡± Sarah said, and then bobbed her head back and forth as she realized that sounded condescending. ¡°You already now that. Nevermind.¡± She tapped Alanna on the arm. ¡°You¡¯re the astute one, anyway.¡± ¡°Am I?¡± Alanna looked surprised. ¡°You have empathy magic!¡± Sarah protested. ¡°But even before that, yeah, you always were.¡± She sighed. ¡°This was nice. We should do more little dinners like this. I¡¯ve missed you all, a lot.¡± Alanna laughed, keeping it quiet so as not to wake any of the others. ¡°We live together!¡± ¡°You know what I mean.¡± Sarah said with a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°Well. I¡¯m gonna let James sleep. Arrush, do you want a teleport or a ride back to your place?¡± Adding to Sarah¡¯s words, Alanna pressed her fingertips together as she spoke. ¡°You can also stay here. All cuddled up on the couch. We have extra blankets and stuff.¡± She caught a look from Sarah, and then relented. ¡°No pressure?¡± Alanna cleared her throat. ¡°But also I literally know you want to, and I¡¯m telling you it¡¯s okay, and I don¡¯t care that I¡¯m using magic to shortcut emotional turmoil.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Arrush looked at her with glinting beady eyes. ¡°I do want to. But¡­ I don¡¯t want to be¡­ a problem?¡± ¡°Okay, great. We¡¯ll get you guys some blankets.¡± Alanna said, trailing after a Sarah who was silently throwing her arms in the air in defeated exasperation. ¡°Sorrrrry. Sort of.¡± She told Sarah as they opened up the hall closet and Alanna used her superior height to grab some of the folded comforters off the top shelf over their washing machine. ¡°I know I¡¯m not supposed to abuse knowing how people are feeling, but¡­ this makes everyone happier.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Sarah said. ¡°I¡­ I know.¡± She shrugged. ¡°You probably know too. You know how I¡¯m feeling, right?¡± Alanna paused, standing on her toes and leaning forward. Slowly, she lowered herself back down and set the blanket on top of the washer, looking away down the hall to her bedroom door. ¡°I try not to.¡± She said. ¡°Because I don¡¯t wanna fuck things up. I feel like it¡¯s okay with James, because he told me it was, and that¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ literally how consent works. Arrush is just broadcasting, which I can¡¯t really ignore. But no. I¡¯m not using it on you.¡± ¡°You should.¡± Sarah said in a tiny, almost scared voice. Alanna turned back to her with wide eyes, looking down at the shorter woman who was staring up at her as if she¡¯d frozen herself in place so she couldn¡¯t flinch away. And in that moment of surprise, she saw a lot of what Sarah had going on. Comfortable joy, but also loneliness. Compassion in three different flavors. A little tired, but a lot thrilled. She was terrified, but not for something so mundane as her personal safety. And she was also excited, and questioning, and waiting for something. Waiting for an answer, to a question she hadn¡¯t actually asked out loud, and didn¡¯t know if she could. ¡°Yes.¡± Alanna said, almost overwhelmed by just how much Sarah felt. But not so much that she didn¡¯t know exactly what she was saying. Then her friend reached up and set her hands on both sides of her face, pulled her down, and kissed her. And then shot backward. ¡°Wait, no! Was that what you were saying yes to?! I didn¡¯t ask! Ooooh, no, I didn¡¯t think to-!¡± Alanna muffled her by continuing what Sarah had started. From just down the hall, Anesh slowly and quietly closed the bedroom door again, the three of his bodies that were currently actively networked together through their skulljacks forming a single person that was really happy that Alanna was sorting that out. But also he had wanted to grab a book from the shelf out there, and now he was stuck. ¡°Hm.¡± Anesh literally said to himself. ¡°This is awkward for an entirely different reason than what modern media prepared me for.¡± His group mind, thinking in parallel, decided that he¡¯d just teleport to the Lair and get some work done while everyone else was occupied. After all, there was always more to do. Chapter 234 ¡°Waves cradling a weathered boat. A globe of stars, pointillism as a glittering map. Steady eyes, searching. Open fields with horizons obscured by humid haze. A clasping hand, firmly pulling forward. Inexorable motion, determined cessation.¡± -Sun Basin Soap, description for Navigator- _____ James woke up on his couch, a pained and panicked yell coming from his mouth, as something sharp scraped at and then into his upper arm. As soon as he started shouting, other startled yells and one confused series of barks also started filling the apartment with a cacophony of voices. As he stumbled to his feet and clipped his hip on the table next to their couch, James rapidly realized that what he was scrambling away from was Arrush, who had let go of him almost instantly when James¡¯ shout had woken him out of his own dream. Or, more accurately, nightmare. The ratroach who had been sleeping in a half slumped position against James had started scrambling in his sleep, and one of his claws had torn a thin bloody line down James¡¯ arm, before catching on the wrapped bandages around his forearms from the still unhealed wizard plague marks. Now he was awake, panting frantically and pushed back against an equally panicked Keeka, while Alanna and Sarah spilled out into the hallway of the apartment and Auberdeen howled as she tried to figure out what was going on. James took a deep breath, and let it out in a short huff. ¡°Alright, jeeze, everyone calm down.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m awake, no need to freak out.¡± ¡°Holy shit, you¡¯re bleeding on the floor.¡± Alanna gasped out, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as Sarah rushed over to check on the ratroaches and also tell Auberdeen she could stop being quite so enthusiastic. ¡°Are you okay? What happened?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± James glanced at her. ¡°Oh. Alarm clock malfunction. I¡¯m fine.¡± He said. ¡°Awake, too! Which is novel, normally I¡¯d try to sleep for another few hours.¡± ¡°S-sorr-sorry¡­¡± Arrush made a gasping hiss of the word. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± ¡°You are gonna stop apologizing.¡± James tried to offer a placating smile and failed to make his face do the motion properly, since he was still groggy. ¡°This happens to me pretty often. Alanna flails when she sleeps, and her nails are actually sharper than yours.¡± ¡°I do not!¡± His girlfriend protested, flushing red at the accusation. ¡°Also that¡¯s magic, it¡¯s not my fault! Get tougher skin!¡± Whatever quip James was going to fire back was interrupted by a pair of Anesh, eyelids drooping and stifling yawns, stomped out of their bedroom and down the hall toward him. One of them silently grabbed James arm and held it up, while the other ran an alcohol swab down the cut, and then applied one of those big patch bandaids to the injury. Then handed James the castoff bits of bandaid wrapper, dropped his arm again, and silently stomped back to bed. James pointed after him, looking at Arrush, and seeing Sarah reassuringly holding Keeka¡¯s claws behind him. ¡°I legit think he doesn¡¯t even wake up to do that.¡± He said. ¡°Anyway. Go back to sleep! All of you!¡± ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± Alanna gave a short laugh, before pecking a kiss on James¡¯ forehead that he reflexively wiped at. ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡± ¡°Going into the Lair.¡± James said. ¡°After I find pants. Since, I mean, I suck at going back to sleep.¡± ¡°Still sorry.¡± Arrush offered. ¡°For waking you up.¡± He looked far less panicked now, having seen James¡¯ almost placid response to the accidental injury. James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Time in this building is weird, so I actually have slept enough to feel okay. Anyway. Everyone go back to bed. Everything''s fine, sorry for yelling.¡± Almost reluctantly, Auberdeen lay back down, shuffling her front paws forward to stare up at the others just in case there was an emergency that called for canine intervention. Sarah gave James a sleepy headbutt as she passed by, and he didn¡¯t miss the fact that she gave him what felt like a whole hour¡¯s worth of extra rest through the contact. Alanna looked like she wanted to say something, but just got some water from the kitchen before wandering back down the dim hall of the apartment, figuring they¡¯d talk later when she hadn¡¯t just woken up. Arrush and Keeka looked like they didn¡¯t fully know what to do, but as James passed back through the living room fully dressed, he offered them a teleport ride back to their own apartment. ¡°Because,¡± he said, ¡°I am entirely sure you have a better bed than this couch.¡± ¡°I like this couch¡­¡± Keeka muttered through the pillow he had his multitude of limbs wrapped around. James nodded sagely. ¡°Same. But I wasn¡¯t disparaging the couch, I was asking if you wanted to blip back with me and have your own bed where there¡¯s lumbar support and stuff.¡± He paused. ¡°Do you guys need that, actually? Like, you were sleeping all curled up, does that not hurt your¡­ ah.¡± It occurred to him as he was speaking that they probably just didn¡¯t notice one more source of pain, if it hurt at all. Before he had his shoes on, he had an answer. Keeka had already fallen back asleep, the exhausted ratroach snoring with wet hisses as Arrush watched him with worried mismatched eyes. With half a granola bar in his mouth, James had hugged Arrush lightly from behind the couch, whispered a goodbye, and teleported out of his apartment before anything else could go wrong. It wasn¡¯t a perfect start to the day, and after eating the granola bar he felt more tired than ever, but he had a lot of stuff he wanted to take care of, and kicking things off with a problem and a solution seemed pretty apt. _____ ¡°Hey, how does our voting system work?¡± Bill ambushed James shortly after he¡¯d arrived, but before he¡¯d gotten any farther in his day than having a probably-non-magical coffee. James was starting to realize he didn¡¯t really like the taste of coffee that much, and that he was basically just used to drinking the adult version of chocolate milk every time he had a mocha. But he didn¡¯t have a place to get mochas anymore; the Lair didn¡¯t have an espresso machine for some reason, as far as he knew, and the one cafe that he was cool teleporting to was gone. He needed to talk to the owners and remaining staff of that place. Recovery was already working on it, but James felt like he owed someone an apology. None of this was relevant to what Bill was saying though. The bear of a contractor was drinking out of his own travel thermos of what James assumed was suitably masculine midnight black coffee, and looking like he was deciding if he should fully wake up today. ¡°Voting for what, exactly?¡± James asked. ¡°Because some stuff works differently.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ big projects?¡± Bill shrugged. ¡°Big projects that require use of major resources beyond time, big projects that require commitment to outside people, or big projects that are weird cobbled together magical nonsense that will nonetheless upend how we do things around here?¡± James had a list prepared. He¡¯d had to field this question a few times now. If Bill was caught off guard by the instant response, he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°One and two. Probably also some of three.¡± He answered. ¡°Mostly askin¡¯ for the second part though. I don¡¯t speak for everyone here, even when sometimes I really should.¡± He cocked one eyebrow at James in a motion that James knew the older man must have practiced in the mirror. ¡°First off¡­ no, let¡¯s skip that. I don¡¯t have the focus for it. It¡¯s two steps. First you do a majority vote of the relevant members. So, if this is some kind of infrastructure or construction thing, it¡¯s your crew, Mark¡¯s people, maybe also the engineers in Research, that kind of thing. We¡¯re working on streamlining how we figure out who to alert. But, anyway, if a majority vote passes, then we move it to a general discussion, make sure the idea aligns with what we want to do as the Order, and then lock in the specifics of the project. The second vote requires an overwhelming majority for ideological alignment, but only a simple majority for the go-ahead to start.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°To which part?¡± ¡°Half of what you said.¡± Bill laughed, a rough and loud chuckle that reminded James a lot of how his dad used to laugh. ¡°Why the political part at the end?¡± James shrugged. ¡°Because the Order exists for an ideological reason, not a tactical one. We aren¡¯t trying to make money, or take over the world, or eliminate our enemies, or something specific like that. We¡¯re trying to improve things for as many people as we can. That means we need to start by looking at if we should do large scale stuff, before we ask if it¡¯s profitable or convenient.¡± ¡°Okay. And the first vote? The limited one? Isn¡¯t it kinda bullshit extra work?¡± ¡°Well, it does mean that half of Research¡¯s more¡­ volatile¡­ ideas never make it to a general forum.¡± James said, and Bill instantly started nodding, changing his mind at the words alone. ¡°But also, you guys would be the ones putting in the work, most likely. It makes sense that the people who¡¯d be on the clock should approve the thing before the rest of us even see it.¡± ¡°Wait, so, it¡¯s specifically so we only work on what we want to?¡± Bill seemed confused. ¡°I mean, yes?¡± The man tugged at his beard with his free hand, eyes looking a hundred miles away. ¡°Huh.¡± He said eventually. ¡°Well that¡¯s fucking weird.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James agreed. ¡°What are you wanting to propose, anyway?¡± ¡°How long do you have?¡± Bill asked. James looked around the Lair¡¯s mostly empty dining room. A camraconda and a ratroach were sitting in a corner, silently eating stuff from the snack bar together. A handful of responders were nursing coffee and complaining about being up early for training. But otherwise, it was still and cool. So early that there wasn¡¯t even any sunlight coming through the magically altered high window. There were a few staplers hanging out in the support beams and ventilation pipes overhead, which James did a double take on. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was looking for, but if it was a distraction, he didn¡¯t find it. ¡°I¡¯ve got a bit.¡± He answered. ¡°Right. So, I guess you¡¯d be one of the people to ask about this early, huh? We wanna do something that might screw the economy.¡± ¡°The teleporters?¡± James asked without thinking. ¡°¡­No, but¡­ no. The perpetual motion machines.¡± Bill said, looking like he¡¯d just tried to go up a flight of stairs and thought there was one step too many. ¡°This fucking place.¡± He muttered, before continuing. ¡°It¡¯s not a complicated thing. You¡¯ve got the magic for it, that one Climb spell that makes a heat teleporter.¡± ¡°Yeah, that one is cool.¡± James nodded to show he was paying attention. Bill grabbed a paper napkin off the table and pulled a stub of a pencil from his pocket. ¡°Yeah. So, it works like this.¡± He sketched as he spoke. ¡°Turbine in the middle, sealed box, tunnel from one side to the other. In a contained space, the pressure tries to equalize, which causes wind, which generates power from¡­ nothing. From ¡®magic¡¯, but magic doesn¡¯t seem to run out.¡± He met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°Does magic run out?¡± Bill asked. ¡°This matters for later.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like it.¡± James said. ¡°But talk to Research.¡± ¡°Well, one of these things can produce, based on what we¡¯ve seen from using the thing to do heating and cooling, about four kilowatts each.¡± Bill stared at James like he was expecting something. ¡°That¡¯s a lot.¡± Embarrassedly raising his hand, James asked a question. ¡°I¡­ okay, how much¡­ is that? I know I know a lot of stuff, but I don¡¯t know electrical systems that don¡¯t involve lamps.¡± ¡°So you have a reference, the average coal plant makes about two hundred megawatts.¡± ¡°Okay, back of the napkin math here, that means we¡¯d need¡­ fifty thousand of these to match a single coal plant?¡± James was a bit disappointed. Bill caught that. ¡°They can scale up, and the four kilowatt one is the size of a toolbox.¡± ¡°Beg your fucking pardon?¡± James choked on his coffee. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve been out of the loop on this for too long, I see!¡± He tried, and failed, to wrap his head around the size requirements for that. ¡°I have a ton of questions, that I bet you could probably answer with a presentation at a general forum, sooooo¡­ I¡¯m just gonna stick with ¡®fucking good job man¡¯ and then figure out what I wanna ask about this later.¡± James offered a high five, which Bill took a second to halfheartedly reciprocate. ¡°Wait, so, what do you wanna do in terms of partnering with someone else? That was the issue, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, that. Well, you know how this spell works.¡± Bill made it a statement, but James was at this point certain the other man knew more about his magic than he did. ¡°Building a big facility would take a shitter of effort, and a single earthquake can cripple the whole thing. So we need something that¡¯ll last. Best case, we can get a government to build us a Hoover Dam, but I¡¯d settle for overengineered bunkers in seismically stable locations.¡± ¡°¡­I¡­uh¡­¡± James pressed his eyes shut and wished the coffee would work faster. ¡°I am not awake enough for this. Wait, hang on, aren¡¯t the risks of things moving made way less serious if you scale up? Like, if you¡¯re running one massive turbine in a big chamber, then even a couple inches of drift wouldn¡¯t break it entirely.¡± Bill grunted and looked down at the napkin he¡¯d doodled on. ¡°Good point. Still doesn¡¯t change anything. We want to try to get outside help so we can make this happen in a year, rather than do it ourselves in a decade.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ll probably have opinions on that later.¡± James nodded. ¡°But overall, I¡¯m totally on board with the perpetual power production¡­ punits.¡± Bill didn¡¯t laugh, so James gave himself a silent internal chuckle. ¡°Actually, we¡¯ve got the space in a basement, and I think we have a whole new wave of greens to crack in the coming weeks that¡¯ll probably add even more. Is there a reason we don¡¯t build a prototype here? Like, a big one.¡± ¡°Money, mostly. Turbines are actually expensive, and it¡¯s not like we know how to build one from scratch.¡± Bill said, and then glanced behind him like he expected something. ¡°Huh. Normally that works.¡± ¡°What¡­ oh.¡± James got it. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll talk to Karen for you later about the money. Get to work planning a large scale version. If nothing else, it¡¯ll save us a lot of money on our power bill every month.¡± James tilted his head slightly as his phone, connected to his brain via skulljack, announced a message to him. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta get going.¡± He told Bill. ¡°I¡¯m serious though, we can sacrifice a chunk of basement for this. Or, I dunno, build it in space. The engineers had a space elevator idea in the works, right?¡± ¡°They¡­ they have been working on that for months¡­¡± Bill gave James a worried glance. ¡°¡­huh.¡± James didn¡¯t like how that made him feel. ¡°I¡­ hm. Okay. Weird. Guess I¡¯m more out of the loop than I thought.¡± He stood, feeling a little dizzy before he blinked it away. ¡°Anyway. Gotta get back to work. Talk to you later.¡± He left the dining room with Bill frowning after him, but otherwise feeling really good with the idea of free magically produced electricity. _____ James and JP didn¡¯t really hang out much these days. Not that they weren¡¯t friends, but there was a certain feeling that they probably weren¡¯t gonna play D&D again anytime soon. Which sucked, and they both felt that maybe they should make time, because their lives were really getting deep into the weeds of the weird and wild. But also they each knew they¡¯d get distracted from that before it happened. ¡°You ever notice how the only time we really talk to each other is when we¡¯re doing some kind of mission that¡¯s gonna upend our lives all over again?¡± James greeted his friend as he met JP in the front lobby of the lair. His friend and partner for this job was wearing a mix of magical gear from two dungeons, one military surplus store, one black market arms dealer, and also whatever Momo had cooked up. ¡°Wait, no, fuck the heart to heart stuff.¡± James pivoted. ¡°I wanna make fun of you for looking like a late game World of Warcraft character.¡± ¡°Well, you can try, but I won¡¯t admit to knowing what that means.¡± JP smoothly quipped back with a little smirk. ¡°Also your stuff¡¯s over there.¡± He angled his chin toward the counter where a stack of stuff for James was sitting. ¡°I even got you a sword.¡± ¡°Yeah, I notice you have a sword. What¡¯s up with that?¡± James was actually kinda jealous of JP¡¯s sword; it looked like an actual professional longsword, strapped to his back with the hilt poking over one shoulder. ¡°I know you are, on a purely historical level, the most likely of all of us to kill something with a sword, but¡­¡± ¡°They work best with the earrings.¡± JP tapped the dangling trapezoidal shape of a Status Quo item on his left ear. ¡°Also style matters, James.¡± ¡°Does it? Does it really?¡± James asked as he strapped on multiple shield bracers, his own earring, the gun bracelet that was bound to the single shot grenade launcher that he slung over his chest, leg pouches with additional grenades, a necklace strung with emergency blue orbs, a belt of flasks labeled as different potions, two backup sidearms, and a backpack with some extra stuff in it for good measure. It was surprisingly light, overall, but he did feel a bit like a walking curio shop. ¡°Why is my sword a rapier? Why can¡¯t I have a cool sword?¡± ¡°Your sword was literally hand forged by a friend of mine, so shut the fuck up and wear it like you mean it.¡± JP tried and failed to slap James on the back of the head. ¡°You ready for this?¡± ¡°I feel overgeared.¡± ¡°You just nearly died because you went outside with ¡®only¡¯ a dozen magical doodads.¡± ¡°Touch¨¦. Ben knows we¡¯re doing this, right?¡± James asked. ¡°Ben knows everything that happens around here.¡± JP replied without actually answering. James folded his arms and stared at his nominal friend. ¡°Tell Ben we are going now.¡± He ordered. ¡°You don¡¯t give me orders.¡± JP said with so much conviction James almost believed it. But even as he was speaking, he had his phone in his hand and was sending a text. ¡°Okay, he knows.¡± James waited. ¡°And?¡± He asked, as JP failed to provide any additional information. ¡°And he has a lot of mean things to say. So. Ready?¡± He offered James a hand, pocketing his phone and pulling out a prepped telepad. ¡°JP¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m mostly kidding. We¡¯ll be fine, everyone knows what¡¯s up.¡± JP didn¡¯t miss James¡¯ disbelieving look. ¡°I mean it. Come on, you¡¯ve got Zhu with you, I¡¯ve got Planner and a navigator egg if I need it. We¡¯re landing a distance away. If anything starts to go wrong, we¡¯ll teleport out and¡­ and¡­ I dunno, come back with an army? We don¡¯t have an army.¡± ¡°We kinda are the army, man.¡± James shook his head. ¡°I mean, you gave me a grenade launcher.¡± ¡°Yeah, be careful with that.¡± JP¡¯s mouth was set in a line. ¡°How many friendly fire charges do you have, anyway?¡± ¡°Nine.¡± James said, double checking the stats the bracelet dumped into his mind. ¡°Almost ten, in a few minutes actually. So ten.¡± He still felt like they should be bringing more people. But his joke wasn¡¯t exactly off base; he and JP represented a significant portion of the ready force the Order had right now. A lot of people were exhausted, or just tied up with other responsibilities. And while James didn¡¯t think of himself as expendable, he did think of himself as capable of getting out of most bad situations. Worst case, he and JP confirmed that the people who had gone out and hadn¡¯t come back were dead. Best case, they brought them back alive. There was a lot of middle ground, but unless something electrocuted him the instant they landed, he was pretty sure he and JP would survive this. ¡°Alright.¡± He said, taking his friend¡¯s hand after a quick checkin with his dozing navigator. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± The telepad dropped them in a nondescript stretch of road in Indiana, about a mile from their destination. ¡°That way.¡± JP pointed, and the two of them started walking. It was a pretty nice place, the sun coming up over the trees and lighting up the overgrown fields around them. It did feel weird, though. Too empty. There was a lot of birdsong, and James spotted deer grazing by the side of the road or off in the fields on multiple occasions. But there were no people, and no cars, and roads without cars hand an inherently kind of haunted vibe to them. ¡°So, what¡¯cha been up to lately?¡± JP asked as they walked. ¡°You know what I¡¯ve been up to lately.¡± James felt a small spike of anger at his friend, shifting the straps of his backpack and wondering if he should have dressed warmer for this in the chilly morning air. ¡°Getting thrown into dungeon hell.¡± JP nodded like he hadn¡¯t just offended James. ¡°Yeah, the skill points were a weird pickup.¡± He said. ¡°But I meant actual fun stuff. I know you wanna tell me about whatever media you¡¯re into lately. Or, if not that, some hot gossip.¡± ¡°Are you¡­ are you trying to get intel out of me? Is this a spy thing?¡± James was almost incredulous. Then he remembered who he was talking to. ¡°Wait, no, you¡¯ve always done this. JP are we friends or am I an intelligence asset?¡± ¡°You can be both!¡± JP¡¯s joking tone made it clear enough which one he thought was actually true. He glanced behind them down the road, but saw it still empty. Ahead, the asphalt was starting to look cracked, shoots of grass and wild plants stabbing up at the sky as they broke through. ¡°I just figured you¡¯d want to tell me about your new boyfriends or something.¡± He offered as the two of them approached a bend in the road. James couldn¡¯t keep a grin off his face as he swept his line of sight over the treetops. ¡°Okay, they¡¯re not my boyfriends.¡± He said. ¡°Yet. Maybe. I dunno. Look, life is weird.¡± ¡°Yeah, life is weird because you ended up with the fucking harem.¡± JP sounded put out. ¡°A) no it¡¯s not, B) are you jealous?¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the laugh out of his voice. JP snorted, but still smiled easily. ¡°Eh, little bit. Like, I¡¯m turning into some kind of protagonist, how come I don¡¯t get a harem? Then I think about that question and who I am and I more or less get a solid answer. But hey, you know what? You¡¯re happier than I¡¯ve ever seen you, so I¡¯ll fucking get over it, you know? I¡¯m learning not to be such a baby.¡± The words took James by surprise a bit. ¡°I¡­ uh. Yeah, okay. Thanks? Also good for you. Like, really, not mocking or anything.¡± He glanced over at JP, who was watching a group of about twenty deer in the grassy field off the road that were watching them in return. ¡°Also, are you sure we¡¯re in the right place? We¡¯re supposed to be going to a coal plant, right?¡± ¡°¡­Yeah¡­¡± JP closed his eyes in a quick blink, accessing his phone via skulljack. ¡°GPS has us¡­ nowhere.¡± He said. ¡°Middle of nowhere, or can¡¯t find us?¡± ¡°Middle of nowhere. Doesn¡¯t show the road or anything.¡± JP didn¡¯t sound overly concerned. ¡°It should be just up ahead, though. But this is weird.¡± ¡°I never actually thought to ask where we tend to build coal plants.¡± James mused. ¡°Middle of nowhere doesn¡¯t seem like the worst idea, but¡­ this feels¡­ not normal.¡± ¡°No shit.¡± JP double checked some of his gear with quick taps as they started to follow the curve of the road, past a sign that warned about large trucks on the road that was half covered in moss, and into an area where the trees were plentiful and leafy green, even at this time of year. ¡°I feel like¡­ oh.¡± He stopped talking. JP not talking was, James had found, a big warning sign. The big warning sign that read ¡®keep out, private property¡¯ was also a big warning sign. The fact that the sign was part of a gate and chain link fence laid across the road, that looked like it had spent the last hundred years rusting and being reclaimed by local plant life, was a much bigger warning sign. And beyond it, suddenly visible through the vegetation, was a structure. A series of them, really. A couple big rectangular buildings, one of them with machinery on the side that James didn¡¯t recognize. A huge open lot with hoppers and conveyor belts. And at the back, six big conical smokestacks. Like unfinished pottery. All of it was broken. Not just run down, but looking like nature itself had some personal beef with the place. The smokestacks especially had holes in them when they weren¡¯t simply collapsed at the midpoint. The branches of trees growing from inside the buildings and trucks still in the lot shot through windows and walls alike, vines of ivy as thick around as James himself crawled up the sides of the crumbling smokestacks. And across all of it, a riot of colors ran. Flowers in purples and reds and yellows bloomed across the whole facility, some of them in small bunches that just left the impression of a blot of color on the landscape, others as massive petals that could easily cover a whole car. It was a hypnotic sight that made him want to approach and see the things up close. Which is why James decided to test something. ¡°Hey.¡± He said, getting JP¡¯s attention. ¡°Turn around and look away.¡± ¡°Okay, why?¡± JP asked, doing so anyway. ¡°Tell me about the coal plant.¡± James didn¡¯t take his eyes off the place. ¡°It¡¯s right ahead of us, wrecked, and covered in plants.¡± JP said. ¡°I¡¯ve got a blueprint, which you should have in your files too, that we can reference when we get there. Also, I just realized that I¡¯m suddenly nervous about going in there, and I wasn¡¯t four seconds ago.¡± ¡°Cool. Cool cool cool.¡± James nodded, not taking his eyes off the largest purple bloom that was camping out at an angle on the corner of one of the main buildings. ¡°I really want to go in there. Hey, do me a favor, can you manifest Planner?¡± ¡°Fuck, alright.¡± JP sighed, already seeing where this was going. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t take too much effort, after all, I have a meeting with Ben penciled in after this, and I wouldn¡¯t want to be late, and¡­ hey Plan.¡± He nodded to the trio of blue and green radiating tentacles that drifted out of the space around him. ¡°Hello. Your time is being wasted.¡± Planner informed JP in their pen-on-legal-pad voice. ¡°Turn around again, please.¡± ¡°Why am I the test subject in this¡­¡± JP caught sight of the overgrown coal plant again. ¡°Aw fuck. Okay.¡± ¡°I have it.¡± Planner said smugly. ¡°Screening your minds now. It will not entice you. Proceed, I can sustain this for an hour at least.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James sighed as he felt something like a cool blanket wrap over his thoughts, and the growing desire to go hug one of the massive flowers faded. The two of them moved in, not drawing their weapons yet, but alert for anything that might be going wrong. The gate was already open, and the way the break on the lock didn¡¯t show rust like the rest of it, it was probably done recently. It looked likely that the previous rogues had just walked in this same way. James and JP moved in, both of them affixing filter masks on their faces just in case. Experiences with the Sewer, and now the Underburbs, meant that no one in the Order wanted to get caught off guard by anything that made spores again. The road past the gate was covered in ground cover, coiled small vines and leaves that made every step feel a little springy. James went first, in case it was a trap, but it seemed like it was just normal clover or ivy or something. The ferns that were cutting the asphalt apart were certainly healthier than he¡¯d expect for something growing in the street, but they didn¡¯t seem hostile or magical. The parking lot for unloading coal was bigger than the entire Lair, possibly counting the arcane floor plan, which made James feel weird. He¡¯d never actually visited a powerplant before, and the sheer scale of engineering on display was impressive, even if the first truck they passed had its front hood punched open by what looked like bamboo spearing through it. ¡°That cannot be native.¡± James said, pointing. JP glanced, and nodded, eyes sharp. ¡°I¡¯m not seeing any skeletons though.¡± He added. ¡°Maybe they got eaten.¡± ¡°Possible. Are bones good for plants?¡± James carefully stepped over a thick coil of a vine, its texture looking like weirdly rough felt, covered in small white puffs of a flower. ¡°I¡¯m just saying that with a scene like this, I actually expect to see skeletons.¡± JP hummed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really fit.¡± He said. James gave him a questioning ¡°Oh?¡± And he continued. ¡°Priority Earth, from before whatever happened to them, absolutely did this. And it¡¯s clearly some kinda magic weapon, since it¡¯s got an antimeme on it.¡± ¡°Also the flower the size of a schoolbus eating the main office over there.¡± James added. ¡°Sure. But also, their organization used to be¡­ I don¡¯t wanna say ¡®ethical¡¯, but from what the rogues put together, I think you woulda liked them. At the very least, in all their little reports about this, they didn¡¯t think they¡¯d killed anyone.¡± That was a bit of a shock. ¡°¡­Huh.¡± James grunted out as they approached the edge of the loading dock and where the slanted conveyors started. ¡°Okay. Well. We need to find where Nate and Lin went, at any rate. Zhu, you there?¡± A rustle of motion, and a plume of feathers unfolded on James¡¯ shoulder, running down to where another arm split off just over his elbow and a tail sprouted out of his back. Zhu bringing himself into the world, rested and while not fully recovered, still ready to go. ¡°Hello!¡± He greeted JP and Planner enthusiastically. ¡°This place is odd.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve noticed.¡± JP said dryly. ¡°Where are we checking?¡± ¡°I am searching.¡± Zhu flicked his manifested eye on James¡¯ shoulder upward in exasperation. ¡°I am not a machine.¡± The two humans waited impatiently, scanning the windows of the nearby buildings for motion, or looking at the way the ivy was clawing cracks into the concrete. ¡°Oh. Uh¡­¡± Zhu¡¯s suddenly uncertain voice broke the noise of rustling leaves and the distant cry of some kind of hawk. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± James asked quickly. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°I¡¯ve found the direction they went.¡± Zhu said, small lines of orange light shooting outward, flickering in and out of visibility as they stabilized. ¡°And?¡± ¡°And also where the others went as well.¡± Zhu added, and a dozen other lines popped up around them. James traced a few of them back to nearby trucks, but others were either paths to or from the buildings, or the front gate, or somewhere else around that he couldn¡¯t identify. The one thing they had in common was they were converging on the blocky building that the blooming purple flower was mounted on like an organic satellite dish. JP loosened his sword in its sheath. ¡°Well, that makes this easy. Wanna place bets on how long until something tries to kill us?¡± ¡°No.¡± James said, checking that he knew where the safety on the grenade launcher was for the tenth time. ¡°I do!¡± Zhu said. ¡°I bet on six!¡± ¡°Six what?¡± Planner¡¯s voice sounded as if from very far away, like the assignment was distracted. ¡°Anything.¡± Zhu answered smugly. ¡°Any multiple of six.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not even taking that bet.¡± James said as he and JP moved forward, keeping distance between each other in case they needed to fight, their boots crunching on the vegetation that had fully overgrown the asphalt between buildings. ¡°Front door, stairs on the side, or just climb one of the big metal things and climb in a window?¡± James asked. ¡°I¡¯m feeling spicy, let¡¯s try the front door.¡± JP said, lightly stretching his arms in a warmup. The interior was mostly dark, with just a few beams of light cutting through windows covered in moss. The group added their own lights to it, and saw a cramped entry room with a rotted wood desk, smashed signs on the walls, and an overgrown pile in a corner of high vis vests and hard hats. The thick vines on the walls that kept looking like they were moving in the corner of James¡¯ eyes didn¡¯t bode well either. Following Zhu¡¯s tracks, they pressed on through the building, tensing briefly when Planner told them something had just tried to redirect them. But nothing jumped out at them or tore into the group. It was just¡­ an overgrown building. Dark and foreboding, but not actually doing anything. The worst threat might be the whole place collapsing on them. The hallways were too cramped for them to walk side by side, so James followed behind JP as they moved into the depths of the building, since with the friendly fire ability he didn¡¯t have to worry about killing his friend quite so much. Part of him wanted to know what all the little offices on each side of the hall were for. What was the day to day like here, before all this happened? Shipping manifests, maintenance reports maybe? The papers were long gone, turned to mulch by the moss and the crawling vines that laced the interior like veins. The desks and chairs were little more than shattered shells of what they once were, held together by the plants that were slowly chipping them away to nothing. ¡°Shit.¡± JP¡¯s voice came from ahead, and James snapped his eyes up. ¡°Found a boot.¡± JP said, nudging it with his toe as he looked back at James. ¡°Okay¡­¡± James pointed his light at the floor, and realized the problem. The boot was too new. Nothing growing out of it or over it. ¡°Ah. Okay. Let¡¯s keep¡­ let¡¯s keep moving.¡± His heart dropped. The odds that they were going to find their people alive at the end of this didn¡¯t feel very high. Which was why he got a pleasant surprise when he and JP emerged out of the back halls, out of a doorframe that hadn¡¯t had a door in it for a while, to see people. The red brick of the floor was cracked and shattered by dozens of thick twisting vines, the ceiling back here torn away, exposing the catwalks and heavy machinery to the sun. A multitude of thick and colorful flowers bloomed, each of them with petals wide enough to shelter under, and each of them shifting in a nonexistent breeze. ¡°Ah. Yes.¡± Planner sounded concerned. ¡°It is those. They are pulling at you.¡± ¡°Oh, good.¡± James and JP said in unison, both of them hiding grins under their masks. James let his eyes follow one of Zhu¡¯s lines of light, and pointed. ¡°There. What the fuck is¡­ uh¡­ that?!¡± ¡®That¡¯ was a wad of vegetation, stuck to the side of a massive tubular machine that James politely assumed was very important and very expensive, but currently inoperable. Vines and moss grew out of it, trailing down to the ground and around the rest of the machinery, but the green and brown didn¡¯t look even close to natural, unlike the rest of the place. Instead, it looked like a cocoon, or some kind of growth sac waiting to erupt. A clatter on the floor almost made James¡¯ heart stop as he took a step forward. After he¡¯d steadied himself, and decided not to fire an incendiary grenade into the floor, he bent down to grab what he¡¯d kicked. ¡°Found a shield bracer.¡± He said. ¡°And¡­¡± he tugged at a piece of black fabric half-consumed by a flower. ¡°Pants.¡± ¡°Around on the other side of this thing.¡± Zhu said cautiously. ¡°I cannot¡­ I don¡¯t think anything is wrong here? Nothing stops the journey.¡± Which was weird. But JP kept watch while James circled the machine and found another of the vegetation cocoons. And then another. And another. They lined the walls and the flat surfaces on the equipment here, hung from under grated catwalks and in a couple cases just stood freely like pods growing out of the ground. It was deeply disturbing. It didn¡¯t get better when, after they made sure they had a secure position and James was ready to light up anything that came at them, JP sliced the edge of one of them open, and a slime covered and hairless nude human figure spilled out. ¡°Oh holy fuck, that looks gross.¡± JP said, grateful for his filter mask as he jerked back from something that almost certainly smelled awful, sword still out in his hand, earring glittering in the aftereffects of his perfected slice. ¡°Fuck me, is this place eating th¡­ no, wait, oh shit, James!¡± His call brought James running, and James arrived just in time to see the figure on the ground make a wheezing noise as they sucked in a gasp of air, arms flailing, snapping the small vines that had grown out of them and into their cocoon. James dropped his launcher back to its sling and ran forward, kneeling next to the struggling figure. Helping them snap the plants they were struggling to claw off themselves, and pulling a flask of lung purifier off his belt to push to their lips and tip back a swallow of. The potion worked fast, and soon the person was breathing steadily, whatever was blocking their lungs removed. Blinking hardening goop out of his eyes, the man on the broken floor looked up at James and croaked out a question that he couldn¡¯t understand. ¡°It¡¯s alright, we got ya.¡± James said softly. ¡°Everything¡¯s gonna be fine.¡± ¡°We should move fast.¡± JP said, looking around. ¡°Because if that pissed it off¡­¡± Normally this would be the time that the walls erupted and the dungeon doubled down on killing them. But¡­ this wasn¡¯t a dungeon. Just the heart of an attack on a piece of infrastructure. And one with some strange victims in it. ¡°Huh. Okay.¡± JP said after nothing tried to kill him. ¡°Let¡¯s get the others.¡± James said, and the two of them went to work. One by one, they added to the list of people pulled from cocoons. The vegetation was spongey, and tightly woven enough that cutting through was hard, but with the Status Quo earrings they could at least make short work of the ones that were in awkward places before they ran out of their limited charges of the ability. Nate and Lin were on the outside of the cluster of pods, and they were far more alert once they were cut free. As Nate coughed out a mouthful of slime before James could give him a dose of lung purifier, he rolled sideways and glared upward at the two of them. ¡°If-¡° he coughed again, ¡°-if James says one fucking word about anime, I¡¯m killing you both while you sleep.¡± He threatened. ¡°I was gonna say that you look fuckin¡¯ weird without facial hair.¡± James offered. ¡°Also we found your pants. They¡¯re a lost cause.¡± There were thirty four people total in the pods, and every one of them was alive. It took multiple telepad trips to get them out, but James and JP managed it pretty quickly. Ben and Myles tried to help after the first run, but Planner wasn¡¯t actively screening for them and James had to stop them from stripping their gear off and sitting placidly under one of the big flowers. It took a few tries to get some of the rescues out of the same effect, too. Aside from the weird semi-hypnotic effect the flowers seemed to be putting off, which was easily deflected by an assignment that was paying attention, nothing tried to kill them. It was a refreshing change of pace, even if they were still standing in the ruins of a piece of expensive infrastructure. James declined Lin¡¯s offer of help burning the whole place down. He did, however, make sure to put a big glowing red note on their internal file for the site after they¡¯d wrapped up and headed back to the Lair. And he was secretly kinda sad he didn¡¯t get a chance to make a tentacle joke before Nate cut him off. _____ Relearning that the space elevator was both a real thing, and a thing that he had personally had conversations with people about, kinda sucked. Not because it was a space elevator; that part was rad as hell. Though the entire engineering team working on it, which had expanded to include three other full time members and about a dozen grad students who were using it as a source of internship hours through a convoluted scheme James didn¡¯t need to know about, were keenly aware of the fact that the Order of Endless Rooms was destined to be a purely terrestrial organization for a while yet. The safety protocols, precision design and fabrication, and general level of overengineered redundancy needed to make space exploration and exploitation even remotely possible were still outside their grasp. But regardless of that, they had sent up unmanned test ¡®flights¡¯ of the prototype, and it worked. They could get to the edge of space. At which point the magical devices had a tendency to experience very infrequent but also very unpredictable failures. But still. No, what sucked was the number of times James heard ¡°as you know¡± or ¡°like we talked about¡±, and had to remind them that he had fed that part of his brain into a woodchipper so that he could kill a monster shaped like a bunch of more-fleshy-than-usual teenagers. Though he did get some perverse enjoyment from saying ¡®overly fleshy teenagers¡¯ over and over. Eventually they got to what they were trying to ask him. Which was if the Order was going to create and manage its own space division, or if they were just planning to rent out the miracle lifting machine to someone else. Because either way, they wanted to start testing if they could reliably put things in a stable orbit, but doing so was probably going to attract attention, no matter how magic they were. They were engineers, so they didn¡¯t say ¡°magic¡± exactly. But James had the whole conversation while he was in the middle of trying to scrape plant goo off himself, so he wasn¡¯t going to get into it at the moment. He told them he¡¯d ask around, and they should start an open discussion about it. There were a lot of things he was qualified for. Space program diplomacy wasn¡¯t one of them yet. _____ Later in the afternoon, while Nate was going through a debriefing, and after having the lunch version of a drive by with his partners, James borrowed El for about an hour. Partly for the company, partly because he needed a good driver. ¡°Okay, you do get that this isn¡¯t gonna regenerate your Velocity as fast as you want, right?¡± El asked him as James arranged himself in the back of the rental van they¡¯d picked up. With some help from TQ, who had been lurking around, James had maneuvered a writing desk into the space, and then ruined any chance of getting his deposit back by affixing a Velcro strip to the wall that he could stick pens and measuring tools on. They could have used one of the Order¡¯s vans, but they were all in use for other stuff today, and it would have taken way too much effort to heal one of the derelicts in Townton and then load someone suitably hypnotized into the mech to carry it back here. ¡°What do you mean?¡± James asked as he made sure he had a bunch of backup paper for this. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re not gonna be driving.¡± El told him, rolling her eyes under the glowing teal halo of Speaker as the young infomorph orbited her head in a swimming loop. James did one last check of his stuff, including the crystallized sensation of motion that resided in his chest, the stockpile of five points of Velocity that he had, recently added to by splitting one of the relics with a few other delvers. ¡°El, I use this magic way less than you. I have one¡­ okay, three spells now, but one spell I actually know what to do with. What¡¯s the weird interaction I¡¯m missing here? Pretend I¡¯m stupid.¡± ¡°Pretend? Wait, no fuck me.¡± El¡¯s voice instantly turned frustrated as she realized that she was doing that thing where she defaulted to mocking people again. ¡°Forget I said that. Also it¡¯s¡­ because if you¡¯re not the driver, you get less. That¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Really?¡± James drew the word out with curiosity, leaning against the side of the van and folding his arms in thought as he stared down at their parking lot. ¡°So, like, is it a binary thing? Driver or not driver?¡± El knew that tone. That was the tone Momo got before whatever they were doing went off the fucking rails and into the Tangent Zone. ¡°No, man, come on. We¡¯re paying by the hour for this thing.¡± ¡°We have a billion dollars and we¡¯re going to rule the world, who cares.¡± James rattled off the words with a flap of his hand. ¡°So, what if it¡¯s a plane, with a copilot?¡± ¡°Oh my god.¡± El palmed her face, resigning herself to this. ¡°Uh¡­ sure. Yeah, whatever. I mean, it works that way in a car, too. Passenger seat gets more than back seat. I think Kirk and Kelsey were running a bunch of tests on it, but I¡¯m not gonna fucking lie to you and say I was paying attention. Except to the part where the passenger gets more if they mess with the radio.¡± ¡°Wait, really?¡± ¡°Yeah, that made me laugh.¡± El grinned. James also smirked at it, partly because he imagined that anyone trying that in El¡¯s car would rapidly find out that their magic was less important than her indie rock. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s cool though. That kinda implies that the more in control you are, the more¡­ ratio you get? I guess? It makes sense.¡± ¡°Hey, can I ask you something?¡± El said abruptly, reacting to James words. He looked up at her with one of those expressions where he hadn¡¯t quite figured out what his face was supposed to convey emotionally; wide eyed but also half-smiling. ¡°Yeah, sure, what¡¯s up?¡± James asked El She pivoted, tipping backward and balancing on one heel to lean against the side of the rental van next to him. ¡°You say that sometimes. The ¡®that makes sense¡¯ thing. What¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°What¡¯s up with that?¡± ¡°No no, I¡¯m¡­ okay, look. Momo says that a lot. Like, all the fucking time, when she finds out how some magical shit works.¡± El stared out at the parking lot, tracking the path of someone coming in for the day on a bike. ¡°What¡¯s up with that? Like, what am I supposed to say to that? Are you two on some kind of weird wavelength together or something?¡± James glanced over at her, and saw a kind of deeper concern written on her face. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be straight with you - pause for laughter - I have no idea what Momo means when she says most things. The fact that we both say that is probably a coincidence.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± El didn¡¯t sound convinced. ¡°Eh, whatever. It¡¯s probably - ow what the shit Speaky!¡± She jerked forward as the informorph still floating around her head tried to chomp on her ear. ¡°Why!¡± ¡°You are not saying the thing you said you wanted to say!¡± Speaky chided her with a squeak of a voice. ¡°Say the thing!¡± ¡°No! You can¡¯t make me!¡± El pulled away and dashed around the van, the semi-serpent fish in hot pursuit. James waited until the second lap to start trying to talk to El again, finding humor in calmly talking in bits and pieces while she ran past, dodging her companion. ¡°So, you seem¡­ concerned about¡­ something involving your¡­ girlfriend?¡± El pulled up in front of him, out of breath, as he finished his question. ¡°Yeah.¡± She panted. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m concerned about the last word, man. Is she actually my girlfriend? Neither of us know what the fuck we¡¯re doing, but¡­ but¡­ god dammit, I actually fucking like her and I didn¡¯t mean to, and I¡¯m almost entirely certain I¡¯m too stupid to date her.¡± ¡°There! Was that so hard?¡± Speaky¡¯s skin sparked with teal and crimson lights as they settled back into a placid orbit around El¡¯s head. James pressed his lips into a thin line. ¡°Yeah, it can be.¡± He muttered to the fish thought, before addressing El again. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not great at relationship advice. And I actually don¡¯t know Momo that well at all. But maybe talk to her about it?¡± ¡°She¡¯s just gonna say it¡¯s not a problem, and she doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m stupid.¡± El whined. Blinking at her, his gaze slipping into a disappointed frown, James felt his sympathy draining. ¡°Yeah, wow, weird.¡± He said flatly. ¡°Oh, come on! You¡¯re fucking depressed, you know how this works!¡± El challenged him. Chagrined, James laughed. ¡°Okay, touch¨¦.¡± He said. ¡°But still. Talk to her anyway. That¡¯s my template advice for everyone. Honestly? I¡¯m sorta fascinated that you¡¯re dating Momo at all. I legit figured that she was actually serious a couple weeks ago when I asked her if she knew what flirting was and she told me that she only, and I quote, ¡®flirts with danger¡¯.¡± ¡°Well, danger is my middle name.¡± El said, flicking her bangs back in the suavest motion she could manage. Suitably impressed with how fucking good that rebound line was from her, James swallowed a laugh. ¡°Also, while I¡¯m fine lounging around and just talking, do you wanna do this thing really quick so we can get it over with?¡± ¡°Oh. Yeah, sure. Just so long as you know about the Velocity thing.¡± El popped the driver¡¯s door and hopped in, adjusting the seat as she called back to James. ¡°Also, why are we doing this? You never told me!¡± ¡°It¡¯s worked before.¡± James said. ¡°It literally worked in Townton. I guess the spell just doesn¡¯t take enough to drain faster than it comes back.¡± He mentally nudged Zhu as he braced himself in the back, the navigator waking up and manifesting just enough to spool out a sinuous feathered tail to provide an extra point of contact with the floor. ¡°And I¡¯m getting a jump on fixing a problem with what Mark and Davis keep calling ¡®dystopian hellscape floorplans¡¯. And you¡¯re helping! Now drive, and get us on a highway before you start violating speed limits.¡± It had been a long time since James had picked up an architecture skill rank, but the process of drafting a building plan was still bizarrely known to him, in the very alien way yellow skill orbs often caused. But despite actually having a lot of the knowledge of how to build an arcology, he¡¯d never actually put it to use beyond just using it as a jumping off point to add to it with research and planning. It had been less time since he¡¯d picked up Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel, a Route Horizon spell that ate a little Velocity every minute of its use, and gave him increased creativity and fine control when it came to making things, relative to his current speed. He mostly used that one in the kitchen, while at a standstill, but for something like this, it seemed prudent to go the extra literal mile. The problem, fortunately identified early, was that while the apartments the Order had magically spammed in its basement were wonderful on the inside, the connecting hallways weren¡¯t. Neither were the interior exits and entrances. And the newly formed courtyard itself, while it had been semi-remodeled into a little park, was still rough around the edges. Fortunately, this was fixable in about an hour for someone with the right skillset. A lot of the outline of his project was already done, but James figured he could accelerate the process of detail work a little. And as soon as his drive took them onto a highway and started to speed up, he triggered his spell, and felt his brain start working. There was a weird feeling James was familiar with, of trying to do crossword puzzles before bed, and getting about half the stuff right. Then waking up the next day and finishing them while taking way too long in his apartment¡¯s bathroom, and realizing that he¡¯d been unable to come up with criminally easy answers while his brain was sleepy. It was a weird reminder that the brain was a mechanical object, that changed how you thought based on things like exhaustion or hunger or if your depression medication was out of whack because you were stuck in a dungeon for a couple days. This was the opposite. Now, his mind unfolded, and suddenly everything seemed so simple. The knowledge he already had became amplified, and so easy to apply. It took more effort to stay upright than it did to rapidly strike lines across the draft page, add notes and measurements, and blend practical use of orange totems with theories on residential psychology and living space design. It was exhilarating, in a way that James didn¡¯t really feel very often. He was making something, even if it was just a blueprint for the actual hard work to be done later. El stopped trying to get his attention after he¡¯d accidentally ignored her the first two times, and just started listening to Tame Impala songs on loop while she humored him and enjoyed the experience for a few hours. By the time they pulled back into the Lair¡¯s parking lot, James was satisfied with what he¡¯d come up with. It would still need double checking, and more work, and of course, actually rearranging the whole basement safely to put it into action. But, critically, he¡¯d gotten what he really wanted out of the experience. He knew it worked. And not just once. This was something he could do every single day, and the only downside was that his hand hurt because he had shit pencil technique no matter how many skill ranks in the important stuff he had. _____ The hospital in the Lair¡¯s basement was seamlessly put together, thanks to the way the orange totem that fractaled out its rooms let them all perfectly link together regardless of the actual physical space required. If you looked too closely, you could easily get a sense of unease that sometimes doors maybe didn¡¯t quite line up, or that the pair of adjacent hallways weren¡¯t as far away as the rooms between them when you actually went to cross the space. But that unease was countered by the fact that they had a functioning, clean, and well stocked medical wing. Also magic was everywhere in the Order, so you just kind of had to get used to it. Tonight, though, one of the rooms was anything but normal. The space had been cleared of a lot of the normal equipment, and repurposed to work toward a single goal: the complete reshaping of a body, as dictated by its owner. A task made possible by what was still one of the things on the top three of James¡¯ ¡°worst dungeons¡± list, in the form of the large amount of shaper substance that the Order had collected from the Akashic Sewer. James wasn¡¯t here to remake himself tonight. He might, in the future. He wasn¡¯t kidding when he¡¯d told his partner that he actually would like a tail; relying on Zhu was fine but it actually would be cool in general. Some kind of thick lizard tail, he figured. But not now. Right now he was moral support. One of a few people who were sitting in the front area of their hospital, trying to help Keeka wait for his appointed ¡®surgery¡¯ without utterly shattering under the effects of the nervous energy he had. James was sitting next to the twitching ratroach, while Arrush was on the other side, and despite the fact that he was probably calmer than either of them, he could still feel his heart beating as they all waited. It hadn¡¯t happened in a long time, but James knew the feeling of seeing a relative or friend into surgery, and just¡­ never seeing them again. He didn¡¯t think that would happen. Deb was incredibly dedicated to making this work, they had a lot of magic on their side, and¡­ and it had to work. That¡¯s what James kept telling himself, anyway. But he was still nervous, and trying not to show it. ¡°So, has he told you what he wants to be?¡± James asked, leaning around the ratroach who was fidgeting with his hospital gown to ask Arrush a question. The tan furred ratroach stopped clawing at his own chitin and tipped his muzzle toward James. ¡°No.¡± He said, containing a stammer as he tried to project calm himself. ¡°He says it is¡­ a secret.¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s gonna be a butterfly.¡± James suggested. Across from them, Sarah perked up and added her own voice. ¡°I bet he¡¯s gonna go for something like an elf!¡± She suggested. ¡°What about you, what do you think?¡± Sarah leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees as she smiled at Arrush in that way she did that lit up a whole room. ¡°Stop guessing!¡± Keeka frantically waved her off, pressing two of his hands into his boyfriend¡¯s face as he pushed Arrush back too. ¡°It¡¯s a secret!¡± He declared. ¡°Fair.¡± James smiled at him. ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll find out pretty soon. How ya feeling?¡± ¡°Good!¡± Keeka said, claws running through his fur. He was currently on a partially magical blend of painkillers, and they were just waiting a few more minutes to make sure they all took effect properly. ¡°I feel good. And terrified! But also floaty. Arrush! We should have sex now in case I die.¡± James bit down on the knuckles of his hand to keep from exploding with laughter as Keeka stared up into his boyfriend¡¯s green-flushed face, a line of corrosive saliva running down the corner of his muzzle and hissing on contact with his gown. ¡°Sorry guys, not now, and not here.¡± Deb¡¯s voice interrupted them. ¡°Keeka, how are you feeling?¡± ¡°G-good.¡± Keeka suddenly displayed a lot more of the nerves that he was showing earlier. ¡°Alright. We¡¯re gonna do a quick cognizance test, and make sure you¡¯re still alert enough, then we¡¯ll get you situated and prepare to start, okay?¡± Deb¡¯s voice was reassuring, and she really did strike a professional figure looking down at her clipboard and standing their in her scrubs. Technically, she wasn¡¯t a doctor. She¡¯d been a nursing student when she¡¯d ¡®joined¡¯ the Order. But with months of selective yellow orb use, and her own tests with the skulljacks and their ability to make memory files, James was sort of aware of the fact that Deb might just be the most generally medically proficient person within a hundred miles. And that was saying something, given where they were. He watched with the rest of them as she ran through a set of questions with Keeka, starting with simple math or word puzzles, then moving up to deeper questions that tested his ability to react and think through more complex puzzles. Eventually, satisfied that his brain was still capable of processing, Deb flipped her clipboard and took a deep breath. ¡°Okay.¡± She said. ¡°Come on back. No one else is going to be allowed in the room for this, but it¡¯s okay to walk him down the hall.¡± She eyed Arrush, with a concerned glint in her eye. ¡°We just can¡¯t have people nearby for certain effects. And no interrupting. No matter what.¡± Arrush nodded, and he and James helped Keeka up, the smaller ratroach¡¯s split tail flicking from side to side behind him as he took halting steps after Deb. Sarah opted to stay in the ¡®waiting room¡¯, saying something about not cluttering things up, but still gave them a thumbs up and another reassuring smile. The whole process, the semi-surgery, was another example of stacking as much magic as they could to make something greater than any one part was probably meant to be. The shaper substance was meant to rearrange flesh and bone, at the cost of pain for every tiny mistake. Anything that wasn¡¯t done perfectly, the magic filled in constant pain as it smoothed over the errors. Also, every time you used it, it got¡­ easier. Easier to change yourself. Easier to make your body what you ¡®wanted¡¯. Easier to push past what you could safely do, and have those small errors filled in with more pain. So, the safest way to do it, was to do it once. A change from the original plan of four or five smaller procedures. Not that they couldn¡¯t do more later, but that doing everything in one swoop was just easiest, and had the lowest long term risk. Backing up the shaper substance were a half dozen other magics. A potion that suppressed muscle pain. Red totems that gave you specifications on the liver, lungs, and heart, of every living organism within range. Another totem that let the surgical team on standby monitor pain levels. Blue orbs on standby that could help keep a patient awake, or regulate the dosage of painkillers. And a doctor, waiting nearby, with her own growing medical authority, and at least one form of weird healing magic, just in case. Also a camraconda nursing assistant on standby. Also just in case. All of this was underlined by patient education. The more you knew about your own body, the better you could control the change. So as much knowledge as could be provided was available. For a ratroach, it required a lot of independent research from the Order; X-rays and biopsies and blood tests and sorting out what parts of their biology were literal magic from the ones that were just created and ticking along with mundane physics. But every report Deb and her staff wrote was passed along, and made easily understood thanks to the potion that spiked reading comprehension, and the growing stockpile of copied yellow orbs that improved biology and medical knowledge on their own. Keeka had declined a skulljack link for this, but it was still on the table in case of emergency, too. Nothing was really the silver bullet that made the process safe. Nothing was the big step that took it from a risky and one-off procedure to the kind of thing that could become standard medical practice. It was more the protocol. The cumulative addition of more and more small things, until eventually, Deb decided they could try it with minimal risk, and for the ratroaches especially, the reward far outpaced the challenges. So James stood back and watched nervously as they made it to the prepped room, and Keeka wrapped Arrush in a tight embrace, hissing something that made his large boyfriend flush again, before he pulled back. James offered a hug, and got a similar crushing grip from the ratroach, so hard he heard small pops from Keeka¡¯s chitin. ¡°Good luck.¡± James said, forcing a nervous smile. Keeka just cracked his muzzle open in a loopy grin, his antenna bobbing against his scalp as he stared up at James and Arrush with the scattered eyes on his face. And then he followed the patiently waiting Deb into the room. She made sure to check Keeka again on a number of things as one of the other nurses helped him take the gown off, and lay down on a smooth and recessed bed. Deb and her assistant started checking a dozen different things James couldn¡¯t really keep track of, including running an IV into Keeka¡¯s arm, fitting a magically reshaped mask over his face, and punching in a code to a keypad to unlock a refrigerated chest with a series of glowing canisters in it. ¡°That looks like the coolest movie prop.¡± James muttered as they watched through the room¡¯s window. Deb stepped back out briefly, trading words with the man who was helping her until she was satisfied that everything was in order, and he headed back down the hall. ¡°Alright.¡± She said to James and Arrush. ¡°This place is off limits. You two go wait. No distractions, no interruption. I am¡­ very confident that everything will work out okay, but you can¡¯t be here to watch, alright?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James said, setting a hand on one of Arrush¡¯s smaller arms. ¡°Let¡¯s go get a snack.¡± He offered. ¡°Will¡­ are you sure?¡± Arrush suddenly asked. ¡°Really sure?¡± ¡°As much as I can be.¡± Deb said. ¡°Your boyfriend is smart. Smarter than I expected, if I¡¯m being honest. He knows what he¡¯s doing, and we¡¯ve got the tools to make it work. Trust him, trust me, and maybe you¡¯ll be next when it all works out, okay?¡± Arrush nodded, and then he and James followed Deb¡¯s jerked nod back down the hall and headed back to the waiting room. Though Arrush did keep shooting looks backward. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine.¡± James murmured. ¡°Though, the waiting is the hard part, right?¡± ¡°R-right.¡± Arrush stammered out, as they rejoined Sarah. ¡°We could get lunch?¡± Sarah offered, and instantly backed out on. ¡°No, that¡¯s silly. I can¡¯t eat now.¡± ¡°Because of the stress, right?¡± James asked. ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Because of the¡­¡± He stopped, and folded his arms at her. Arrush gave a single snicker of a laugh at the motion, which James counted as a win. Sarah took pity on him. ¡°Well, yes.¡± She admitted. ¡°And I¡¯ll be doing this again for a few more people. Smoke and Ishah and Banana when it¡¯s her turn and also Allo and Corro when they finish growing and learning the foundations they need, and¡­¡± she sighed. ¡°There¡¯s so many people that need this.¡± Sarah said, and met Arrush¡¯s eyes. ¡°I know you might just be afraid right now, and that¡¯s¡­ of course you are. Totally normal, and valid. But Keeka¡­ your boyfriend doing this first is going to make it so much easier, and safer, for everyone that comes after.¡± Arrush¡¯s fangs came out in a hesitant smile, drops of corrosive tears forming in his myriad eyes. ¡°Yes.¡± He said. ¡°He is¡­ very brave. And very perfect.¡± ¡°He is.¡± Sarah said, insistently. ¡°Not as a joke, at all. I know we joke a lot around here, and it¡¯s great, but¡­ but he¡¯s more courageous than a lot of us. And I wanted to make sure you knew.¡± She sat back, and closed her eyes so she wasn¡¯t staring into the fluorescent lights overhead. ¡°Yeah, everything she said.¡± James echoed, leaning his shoulder into Arrush. The tan furred ratroach just curled in on himself, smiling yes, but not knowing how to handle the overwhelming deluge of emotion. ¡°I¡­ thank you.¡± He whispered out in his chittering voice. ¡°Of course.¡± James said with a smile. ¡°Now, we have a while to wait, and I¡­ I cannot sit here the whole time, or my anxiety will kill me. Do either of you want to come with me and see if Research has any busywork, so we¡¯re still right in the area if we¡¯re needed?¡± ¡°Yesss.¡± Arrush hissed appreciatively. Sarah grinned at them. ¡°You two have fun. I¡¯ll wait here. I¡¯ve got an outline for a podcast tonight to put together.¡± The next hour passed in a stressful blur as the two of them helped Reed harvest sap pods. They were up to a few hundred magical succulent pots, all growing the material that was needed to make potions, and doing so at a pretty rapid rate. It seemed like the magic succulents inherited the ¡®one pod a day¡¯ trait that the tiny magical tree itself had. So James and Arrush turned their nervous energy toward filling a bucket with the material as they made their way down the rows of plants. They didn¡¯t talk much, partly because James just didn¡¯t know what to say. When he did talk, it was just him saying something that crossed his mind out of a nervous habit to fill the silence. The hour after that they passed in the waiting room again, sitting across from Sarah who was tapping away on her tablet, and just¡­ hoping it was done soon. The stress didn¡¯t go away, but it was something James was starting to get used to, or get bored of. He could only freak out for so long before he just exhausted himself. So he caught up on youtube videos while Arrush read a book that someone in Research had loaned him, and they kept waiting. At one point, they were visited by the hospital¡¯s emotional support infomorph, who James had actually not met, but apparently lived down here fully manifested all the time. She was a pink and dark purple glowing eel thing, with dozens of small eyestalks coming off her body at angles that didn¡¯t add up, and she wrapped around their legs in a comforting gesture as they watched her pass by. She was warm, and distracting. Her name, apparently, was Mercy, and James decided that he had only known her for a few minutes, but he was already prepared to kill anything that threatened her. They weren¡¯t totally alone down here. There were a few injuries from Response that were tended to, and one of the kids from the intern program who came down to get vaccinated without their parents knowing, which apparently Deb had a line on somehow. Also someone who had a sliver of glass two inches long in their neck, who seemed way too calm as one of the hospital staff led him back to a room. But it was still mostly quiet; just them, and one or two of the staff working on things behind their central desk. Then more waiting. He had to reassure Arrush a few times, that if anything had gone wrong, they would have heard about it. Deb wouldn¡¯t just keep them in the dark. But Arrush kept getting increasingly twitchy, and the multiple hours of waiting were wearing on all of them. And then Deb was there again. James blinked, wondering if he¡¯d been asleep, if she¡¯d teleported in, or if he really just wasn¡¯t paying attention. ¡°Well.¡± The woman started. ¡°Everything went fine.¡± There was a collective rush of tension leaving. Arrush let out a laugh that sounded like a series of high pitched rapid squeaks. ¡°Keeka is asleep now, and will be in recovery for at least a day or two before he can walk under his own power again. I¡¯d like to keep him here for observation, but we¡¯re moving him to a room with a real bed now.¡± ¡°I knew it.¡± Sarah sighed contently, stretching as she rose to her feet, and then leaning down to wrap a surprised Arrush in a sudden hug. ¡°I knew it!¡± ¡°Hey, yeah, see? Everything worked out.¡± James added. ¡°And now my heart rate can return to slightly above human normal!¡± ¡°¡­Excuse me?¡± Deb asked, raising her eyebrows at him. James withered under the look. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ nothing?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll talk later. Would you like to see him?¡± She asked. ¡°Yes!¡± Arrush bolted to his feet, claws flicking against each other, all of his hands clenching and unclenching at odd intervals. ¡°Yes, please.¡± He repeated. Deb just instructed them to follow her, and led the group down to one of the rooms, which she let them into without any dramatics. ¡°Let him sleep.¡± She advised. ¡°He¡¯ll need to rest for quite some time, and he¡¯ll be able to answer your questions when he wakes up.¡± Then she stepped back, and let them pass. Arrush went first, and then froze in the doorway as he saw his boyfriend laying peacefully under the covers of the hospital bed. James and Sarah waited for him patiently, sharing grins of barely contained joy as they followed. ¡°Last chance to get a bet in.¡± Sarah whispered. ¡°I¡¯m still going butterfly.¡± James whispered back. And then Arrush stepped forward, and they saw what Keeka had made of himself. He looked¡­ almost exactly the same as James remembered. But no, that wasn¡¯t quite right. There were so many differences, but every one of them was small. His muzzle wasn¡¯t misaligned anymore, and the lines of his snout were smoother. The chitin across his body seamlessly blended with furred hide in the places it met, and that chitin was also now in smooth whorls that weren¡¯t exactly symmetrical, but weren¡¯t in places that would cause problems anymore. It ran in arcs around joints and in bands down his neck, instead of simply being haphazardly slapped on. And the fur he had, while still showing curls in places, was thicker and smoother than it had been before. An almost glossy black in places. The dome of his head was now furred, with his antenna sprouting out of dots of smooth chitin and all sweeping backward without any spines on them to end with a shape James could only describe as a honey dipper. He still had four arms, at least, but they were more symmetrical now. The two smaller limbs coming out of his torso behind his ribcage, and sporting joints that could swap between facing his front or back. He still had an array of eyes, but it looked like he¡¯d opted to cut the number down by one, so he only had six, and he¡¯d rearranged them slightly for better stereoscopic vision. It was hard to tell with all of them closed. He was drooling on his pillow as he snored. His chest rising and falling with heavy motions, and no obstruction. The saliva dripping from his mouth still glowing blue, but not putting any holes in the hospital equipment. James couldn¡¯t see if he¡¯d kept the rat tail. He hoped so. Tails were cool. He stepped up next to Arrush, who was staring down at his boyfriend, corrosive tears forming and then falling down the sides of his face. His breath coming in short bursts as he tried, and failed, to stop himself from crying. ¡°He¡­ he¡­¡± ¡°Hey.¡± Sarah said, taking hold of one of Arrush¡¯s hands. ¡°Are you¡­?¡± ¡°Do you need anything?¡± James added as she trailed off. Arrush took a long breath, using the basic breathing method his therapist had suggested to try to make sense of his emotions. He closed his eyes, and then opened them again, and looked down at the person he loved with fresh sight. ¡°No.¡± Arrush said, leaning against Sarah¡¯s touch. ¡°I don¡¯t need¡­ anything. He looks¡­ he¡­ is perfect.¡± Chapter 235 ¡°The factory of the future will have only two employees, a man and a dog. The man will be there to feed the dog. The dog will be there to keep the man from touching the equipment.¡± -Warren Bennis- _____ Welcoming Ceremony Come to the Townton forward operating base this Tuesday evening for a small gathering to welcome Amelia to the land of the living! Our newest navigator has decided to make the leap from map to person, in her words, ¡®against the evidence of logic¡¯, so come by for cake, a hike to a previously unvisited rooftop, and possibly at least one misadventure! Amelia will be sharing infomorph host space with Dorothy and Roland M., her pronouns are she/her, and she has asked that if this party must happen, that she not be given gifts. See you there! -Message posted in the Order of Endless Rooms Important Announcements channel- _____ Potion Testing Log (Note : Each batch uses the same ingredients, with sub-batches using different measurements of each. Each batch produced was also performed in multiple permutations of methods, for comparison.) Batch 44-5 Methods : Blending, Steeping Lab Tests : Mice under influence of potion shows increased maximum speed, and a willingness to run for extended times without rest. Physical examination showed temporary modifications to tendons and leg muscles that faded as effects ended. Extended testing approved due to positive non-lethal results. Two hundred tests performed, eighty six injuries sustained in subjects. Sophont Tests : Approved, Pending Status : High potential Batch 51-1 Methods : Blending Lab Tests : Mice under effects appear to show heightened states of calm. No injuries. Sophont Tests : Pending Status : Low potential Batch 51-2 Methods : Blending, Distilling Lab Tests : Multiple fatalities among test mice due to complete nervous system shutdown. Status : Discontinued Batch 58-1 Methods : Stirring Lab Tests : No apparent effect, no apparent injuries. Sophont Tests : Pending Batch 67-4 Methods : Stirring, Brewing Lab Tests : Mice in test would sporadically exhale carbon monoxide in powerful bursts. Testing resulted in three fatalities among test subjects, and hospitalization of two researchers. Status : Discontinued Notes : This test run had ingredient overlap with batch 23, which produced a similar effect that caused the exhalation of chlorine gas. For now, we don¡¯t need a literal breath weapon, so those ingredients have been removed from the testing pool. Batch 84-2 Methods : Stirring, Steeping Lab Tests : Mice showed no adverse physical reaction. Mice also caused immedient structural failure of the testing habitat when they made contact with the fiberglass enclosure walls. Further testing showed this effect extended to glass, quartz, and plastic as well. The shattering effect is not forceful, but splintering did cause eight minor injuries among test subjects and one researcher. Sophont Tests : In progress. Three subjects temporarily hospitalized with external injuries. Status : High potential for rogue and delver units Batch 11-12 Methods : Blending Lab Tests : Ongoing observation of the testing habitat has shown a long term shift in the behavior of the mice. Over the course of months, they have shown a statistically significant increase over the control group in certain behaviors, including mating, grooming, gift giving, and play. Observation updated to include that they are also engaging in activity that could be described as the creation of art. Tests on overall health show all subjects are in better shape now than when the test began, and that social reactions indicate increased general happiness as well. Sophont Tests : Pending volunteers Status : Developing Batch 89-1 Methods : Brewing Lab Tests : Mice in tests showed no adverse physical symptoms, but no observable benefit. Sophont Tests : Subjects reported lowered back and joint pain. Focused observation showed that for the duration of the potion¡¯s effect, subjects automatically corrected their own posture for maximum comfort, regardless of position or furniture. Effect most pronounced in terms of pain relief on ratroaches, but is usable by any species, including infomorphic life. Testing Note : One injury was sustained by a subject using a BDSM harness while under the effects. Posture was adjusted, which caused the dislocation of the subject¡¯s shoulder. Other unorthodox furniture may cause similar problems. Status : Entering production. Long brewing time limits availability, but current Sap production outstrips demand for testing, so nothing is lost devoting resources to a non-addictive pseudo-painkiller. _____ Open Group Therapy! Every Friday Bring your friends Bring your enemies Bring people you don¡¯t know Snacks provided Private room 8, basement 3(b) Starts at 6 PM No skulljack required -Flyer posted on community board- _____ Order of Endless Rooms Operations Manual, Section 7, Part 5 (Designations and Ranks, Knight/Paladin) As has been mentioned in many places in this manual, anyone who spends time engaging with the Order on a long term level will pick up a lot of different hats. The terms that we use to refer to project or division leaders, forum representatives, or anyone with an official responsibility in a specific field, are fairly well defined and structured. In contrast, the title of Knight is descriptive, and not an indication of a specific role in the organization. Knight is the title that is given to members of the Order who consistently demonstrate courage, conviction, and the willingness to prioritize the safety of others over themselves. Knights are the names who, when a fresh crisis occurs, are the first on the list for who handles it. There are no special privileges that come from holding the title, only the knowledge that you will get the most dangerous jobs at the most dangerous times. For some reason, this has utterly failed to discourage anyone. As of recently, all Knights are also potential Paladins. The title of Paladin is not a leadership or authoritative version of Knight. If anything, it is the opposite. Paladins, like Knights, are the first responders to threats. But they are also representatives of the Order as a whole. Paladins are expected to uphold the ideals of the Order of Endless Rooms, and as a result, they speak with the authority of the entire organization. The duties of a Knight are dangerous, but simple. The duties of a Paladin are to work to facilitate the operations of the Order as much as possible. Including improving communications, supporting members, expanding operations, seeking out problems to solve, and also responding to threats when needed. Just in case it needs to be made explicit, there are no requirements for species, or modifications, in order to accept these ranks. Currently, the Order¡¯s roster contains 28 Knights and 1 Paladin. _____ _logistics : @Momers (She/Her/Witch), Momo, you have a package for pickup in the lobby. Please don¡¯t leave it here for two weeks this time. Momers (She/Her/Witch) : I never leave my packages! K.Ward.1974 : Momo, you leave your packages in the lobby constantly. And as Nikhail and Taste-Of-Air have yet to expand the lockers, space is limited. _logistics : You actually have two packages. We just checked. Please come get your packages. DAVE (Male, Knight) : i dont see why anyone is surprised by this Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Hey, fuck off! I¡¯ve been busy! And half the stuff I order is clothes or something, so, like, I¡¯m focused on more important things! DAVE (Male, Knight) : i have never seen you at the lair wearing anything that isn¡¯t a bathrobe Momers (She/Her/Witch) : Obviously I¡¯m not buying stuff to wear for you, Dave. DAVE (Male, Knight) : what did you buy? another bathrobe? DAVE (Male, Knight) : wait isnt the lair magicked for making stuff? why dont you just make your own bathrobes? Momers (She/Her/Witch) : If you must know¡­ _logistics : This is the channel for mail and utility alerts and questions. Administering a one hour timeout to both of you. Momo, shipping manifest lists your packages as a denim kimono, and a hundred pieces of surgical tubing, respectively. Come pick up your packages. _logistics : @K.Ward.1974 Karen you also have a package here. Addressed to you, but also has your daughter¡¯s name on it. Please come pick up your package. K.Ward.1974 : I will do so. Thank you. -Order of Endless Rooms Discussion Server, Channel ¡°Logistics Notices¡±- _____ Reed¡¯s Note : Here¡¯s the draft, now that we have most of the results in. Let me know if you think this is good enough to send out. Initial Report - Status Quo/Blue Interaction : The items recovered from Status Quo, both copies and originals, have been proven as capable of altered with blue orbs from Officium Mundi. This change has a number of conditions and dumb corner cases (EN : Reed you can¡¯t say that in an official report) and is not immediately of dramatic use to the Order. However, long term testing is still ongoing, and there are unknown variables still at play (EN : in play, or at work, pick one) Each unique Status Quo item is capable of receiving a single imbuement from a blue orb. Across all tests, these imbuements register as additional abilities in the format of the item¡¯s own magic, and not like creating an Officium Mundi dungeontech item. Each of these abilities is also fixed; i.e. the ability for one of the breaker gloves will always be Evoke Quill. This occurs regardless of if the item is a copy or not. So far, none of the added abilities have advanced in level (EN : Just say leveled up, it¡¯s easier and we all know what you mean.) to the point that new abilities are unlocked. It is unknown if combinations of levels with other abilities will ¡®create¡¯ new powers for items, or if the imbued abilities stand alone. What is also unknown, and can never actually be verified, is if the ability is ¡®waiting¡¯ to be unlocked, or if is created by the process of imbuement and then copied for each future application of a blue to a Status Quo item. It is unclear, for example, if the breaker glove was meant to Evoke Quill, or if James made it Evoke Quill, and every future use is following that lead. Due to this uncertainty (EN: seriously, simple language Reed. Tone it down, no one cares if you use natural language), all tests were conducted with a goal in mind for a synergistic ability for the item in question. Those goals were not always met, so the influence of this method is also unknown. Additionally, after the destruction of a shield bracer during testing, it was decided to not risk testing on the Spirit Ignition crown (EN : should we name these things? I¡¯ve got ideas). As that item is too large to be copied, and we only have one instance of it, it was deemed too valuable to risk for now. A list of unlocked abilities is as follows. Formatting is item and effect, highest level reached, maximum charges, time between recharge, and uses to level up, with per level changes in parenthesis when known. (EN : consider putting this as a chart on the side. Also this is different than the other listing; see this link for ref) (Bonus EN : none of these are over level 1, why not just skip that part?) Glove - Evoke Quill 1, 10, 12 hours, 50 Used while holding a writing implement, can create a written message as if sourced from that implement on any surface at a range of 10 feet. Tests show this doesn¡¯t deplete ink from pens, or require it for literal quills. If using something like a pencil that would break when trying to write on brick, the message just won¡¯t show up, or will only get through a letter or two. Maximum message length is twenty letters, always at size 10 font. Brooch - Extract Potassium 1, 4, 3 days, 50 When used and directed at food specifically, removes all potassium from that food and deposits it in a pile on the nearest flat surface. On brooches that have leveled up enough to have Bind Processor as an ability, also has a secondary option to automatically use on the processor. (EN : Explain. Fuck¡¯s sake, the one time you actually need to be wordy is here. EXPLAIN.) Bracer - Fake Stockpile 1, 2, 6 Days (EN : Reed, please, figure out if you¡¯re capitalizing these or not), 75 Confirming that the shield bracers actually are making a record of the thongs (EN : please) that they block with the Stockpile effect, this allows the weirder to create a version of anything that has been previously blocked, and project it as an illusion. Visual only, range of ten feet, has visual distortion problems with ¡®vehicle impact¡¯. Bracelet - Bind Arbalest 1, 1, 2 Years, 10 Untested. We suspect this allows a bracelet to pair with a crossbow or other mechanical projectile weapon in the same way it does with a firearm. Since we have a very limited number of these, and we don¡¯t know if it will overwrite the bound gun, testing is paused for now. (EN : dibs on seeing how this works with burst fire) Greave - Snap Descent 1, 15, 8 Hours, 100 Accelerates wearer into the ground, assuming they are not on the ground. The increase is difficult to judge without more testing with high altitude jumps, though pressure plate tests show it does seem to negate roughly half the force of the fall. (EN : before, or after, it speeds your fall up?) Crown - Unknown See above. Earring - Perfect Color Match 1, 10, 6 Hours, 50 Changes the color of one worn primary garment to match either another primary garment, or the skin, hair, or eyes of the wearer. ¡°Match¡± in this case means a copy of the color in question, not a match in the sense of fashion. (EN : just make this one sentence) Targets are mentally selected on use, and if left unselected, randomly picked. Cannot change eye, hair, or skin color. (EN : Looks good overall. Davis¡¯ll be annoyed that we¡¯re going to have to postpone large scale rollouts of the brooches as water purifiers until we can make sure there¡¯s no hidden ability that lets you turn them into nukes again, but that¡¯s just Tuesday around here. Also, consider making a note that the crown did level up recently, and nothing changed with it. People have been asking. Either that, or some kind of announcement. Other than that and the notes, ship it.) _____ Wanted : Nude Models This Friday Nonhumans very welcome Not technically porn! Adult sophoncy required. Orbs on offer as compensation for time. Snacks, drinks, and pillows provided. Preferable if comfortable modeling with others. -Flyer posted on community board, majority of contact slips torn off- _____ For trade : enchanted notebook Notebook that fills in the margins with helpful alerts about insecurities the writer may have about the things written. Handy for self analysis! Any offers considered. -Flyer posted on community board, all contact slips still attached- _____ Pluralist Ball Core Rules : -Five players per team -Minimum one ball in play -Lines on either side of the field -One point for getting the initial ball across the line, which resets the game to the starting positions -Touching a player holding the ball requires them to exit the field for the play -No contact that could injure a player is allowed -First team to ten points wins Adaptive Rules : A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Each team is allowed to know who the other team is before the game begins, and each team blindly submits one rule to add to the game. After hearing the two submitted rules, each team may submit another rule. Teams have to decide on these rules amongst themselves, with no outside help, in under five minutes. These rules cannot violate the core rules, nor can they introduce new dangers to the players. They can be as dumb as you kids want though, there¡¯s no rule against that. Game Records : Game 1 - The Fighting Vending Machines vs The Clever Names Bonus Rules : No freezing players, no freezing players, no grabbing the ball with hands, a goal from a ratroach wins the game Outcome : The Clever Names won, 1 to 9. Game 2 - The Clever Names vs The Basement Crawlers Bonus Rules : The touch rule applies to anyone who has most recently moved the ball, no special points for specific species scoring goals, if camracondas freeze all opposing players at once it counts as a game win, no grabbing the ball with hands Outcome : The Clever Names won, 0 to 8. Game 3 - The Basement Crawlers vs The Fighting Vending Machines Bonus Rules : No alternate win conditions, no alternate win conditions, no freezing players, no freezing players. Outcome : The Fighting Vending Machines won, 10 to 8. Anyone interested in seeing further games of Pluralist Ball should visit the back lot, where our youth groups will be working hard to remind us why we don¡¯t let kids make the rules to sports, and having a great time doing it. -El- _____ From : [email protected] To : [email protected] Subj : Re : Sales Offer Body : Ms. Barkdust I would like to offer my sincere apologies for the behavior of my colleague yesterday. While I hope you will understand that he assumed your contact was an elaborate hoax, it is my professional opinion that he should be removed from our accounts team for incompetence. If you require that as part of any ongoing offers in the future, I can work with our management to make that happen. Regarding your offer, our company would officially be delighted to accept a long term sales contract with your organization. Naturally, we are understanding if terms have changed due to Mr. Banson¡¯s behavior, but are open to renegotiation at your earliest convenience. Our accounts team just has a few questions regarding the details before we proceed. 1 - Do you require that your identity and/or origin be kept as a secret, either industry or otherwise? 2 - Are you aware of the fact that your stated offer was at significantly under the going rate for the price of platinum on the global market? The rates that are googleable aren¡¯t inaccurate, but this is low even for inside industry rates. 3 - Our HR department would like to know if you have a preferred form of address or name usage, for all of our hopefully long term contact. 4 - Can the source of the platinum on offer be traced to anywhere on Earth that would be an issue, going forward? Aside from these questions, and if you are still willing, we would be thrilled to work with your organization to a mutually beneficial result. We are prepared to move any quantity of material you can provide us with. Thank you for your time Jeremy Kilgor, Senior Account Manager _ From : [email protected] To : [email protected] Subj : Re : Sales Offer Body : Mr. Kilgor I admit, I am surprised to hear from a representative of your company. But your attitude is a vast improvement on your colleague, and I believe we will have no problems working together. I do understand that, frustrating as it is to admit, the vast majority of humans are not used to the concept of working with nonhuman life. And as you are personally agreeable, we can put this behind us. As to your questions, first and foremost, no, our identity is not a secret. You will find, I think, that if you tell your friends and family that your new material intake account is a seemingly artificial biomechanical serpent, they will simply not believe you. This has been an ongoing issue. But there is no need for secrecy. To answer your HR department¡¯s question, Texture-Of-Barkdust is a full name, and preferred for professional contact. Ms. Barkdust is acceptable enough as a shortening. We are aware that our prices are below market rate. This is not an issue for us, and we will not feel taken advantage of. The largest issue we face is finding buyers for material that has no paper trail. I can assure you that it is not stolen in any way, and that it is in fact from Earth. To answer the question that you weren¡¯t quite asking, I am also from Earth, in my own way. The world is somewhat larger than you might have believed, though it is our hope that this will be an opportunity for all of us. If your company is serious about being able to take any amount, we would like to start our relationship with two tons delivered weekly, for a one year commitment. Original contract terms and rates applying. Thank you Texture-Of-Barkdust, OOER Knight _ From : [email protected] To : [email protected] Subj : Re : Sales Offer Body : Texture-Of-Barkdust Absolutely. We¡¯ll have the paperwork signed and sent back within the hour. I look forward to working with your organization. Thank you Jeremy Kilgor, Senior Account Manager _ From : [email protected] To : [email protected] Subj : I Can Put Whatever I Want Here, I Have Become Unfireable Body : Boss You¡¯re gonna give me a raise, a promotion, a bottle of the good stuff, and a two month vacation. Then you¡¯re gonna let me slug Banson. Once. In the face. No warning, no repressions. Clear it with HR first for me. Jeremy _____ Make No Excuses, Tolerate No Exceptions -Crest on the floor of the Response lobby, unofficial motto- _____ I am not the original poster! That would be u/sistersomethingthrowaway. Originally posted in r/raisedbynarcissists. Please remember the no brigading rule. Do not comment on the original post or DM OOP Trigger Warnings : Possible mental instability. Generally weird Original post August of 2021 I (18F) live in Washington with my mom (45?F) and my sister (16F). I remember we moved here kinda suddenly, but honestly, it¡¯s sort of a blur because I was busy with trying to finish high school and there was a lot of stress with getting my grades transferred, and I just¡­ it was bad. Bad time for everyone. Doesn¡¯t help that my mom is everything this sub could have warned me about if I¡¯d seen it before. I am working on getting out, I am keeping it together. But there¡¯s something really fucking weird that I need to know if it can happen. My mom lies, a lot, so I don¡¯t know if I can trust her. But I also don¡¯t know if she¡¯s lying when she answers me on this. For the last week, every time I wake up, I¡¯ve had this thought that I should say good morning to my sisters. But I only have one sister? I kind of sort of have a vague impression of growing up with two other girls, though. So, I guess I¡¯m asking, is it possible my mom is gaslighting me into believing another person doesn¡¯t exist? My actual sister that I know is real says I¡¯m going crazy, and I don¡¯t not believe her, but I just need to know. Can this even happen? Notable comments on the original post It¡¯s happened to a lot of people that older siblings will leave when they¡¯re young, and the nparents will try to pretend they never existed. I¡¯d look into birth records, if that¡¯s an option. The worst part of growin up like this. You can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re crazy, even if you legitimately are crazy. Do you remember details of the other sister? OOP has a few comments talking about details, but nothing anyone can use to identity her. Thread was inconclusive and no updates for a while Update post, same account, December of 2022 Holy shit. I found her. A year ago, I posted that I felt like my (19f) mom (45?f) was lying about me having another sister when I was younger. Everyone was supportive, but nothing happened. I don¡¯t know what I was expecting. Maybe some kind of masterful detective work to help me? It was dumb of me. But the feeling didn¡¯t go away. I kept feeling like there was a person missing. I got out of my nMom¡¯s place, got into therapy, and my therapist tried to help, but it just wasn¡¯t working out. And then I saw her! Just on a random TikTok! One of those ones of the weird group of people that just show up and solve problems, the ones that no one ever talks about and only get a few comments? It was her! I don¡¯t know how I know, but it was absolutely the person I keep thinking of! I don¡¯t know how to contact her. The video¡¯s taken down already, too. But I knw she¡¯s real now, and i know what she looks like, and I¡¯m not crazy! I was right! Comments on the followup post: (OOP), you need to be careful here. Talk to your therapist about this, don¡¯t go randomly contacting people you see on the internet because they fill a hole your nmom made in your heart. Wait, what vids are you even talking about? I¡¯m shamefully on TikTok all the time, and I¡¯ve never seen anything like this. Do you have a link? Oh shit. I think I know who you are. I¡¯m reaching out to you in DMs, and hoping you check this account more than once a year. There have been no further updates. Marked as in progress. Reminder to readers of this sub : Please do not contact OOP. And keep the comments civil. This seems like a young woman legitimately going through a hard time, we don¡¯t need people making fun of a mental breakdown in here. _____ If you¡¯re reading this, welcome to the antimemetics training program. -Untouched PowerPoint slide in the briefing warehouse, origin unknown- _____ Response Division, Disciplinary Report Responder : Marcus I Upon being notified by the civilian oversight group, further investigation and action was taken on responder Mike ¡®Mikey¡¯ DuBois. The initial incident was a matter of overuse of force during an altercation. Mikey moved directly to painfully restrain a civilian having a mental health crisis, without attempting to deescelate or provide aid. Review of teammate¡¯s stored footage shows there was no visible risk to either responder, or the civilian, and no reasonable excuse for the action. Normally, this would trigger the suspension of Mikey from Response pending confirmation from his therapist and a round of retraining. However, further investigation into his actions during his off hours show a flagrantly unsafe abuse of the issued Status Quo shield bracer for cheap laughs, as well as potential theft of skill orbs from another Order member. Active immediately, Mikey is suspended on my authority. Further recommendation for removal from Response, with no course to reenter, and mandatory counseling to remain with the Order in general. Addendum - Followup Action Taken Responder : Harvey Allison Mr. DuBois has been removed from Response¡¯s roster on a permanent basis, and has elected not to remain with the Order of Endless Rooms. Pass along my thanks to the civilian oversight group for the quick catch before this went too far. I suppose it was only a matter of time. No excuses, though. _____ Pinned message : Lair Production Enhancements General : Increased monetary value, fewer errors (limited per week) Clothing : Faster Electronics : Cheaper, faster (or slower if it would make it work better) Construction : Materials processing, Coffee : Faster Books (including magazines, but not notes or correspondence) : Fewer typos, more time for writing, improved reaction from readers Food : Additional output from materials Nothing works on rebuilds or repairs, except for the first book effect. _ Nik (Research, M) : Hey, looping a few people into this chat for a minute. Reed (He/Him) : Oh, yeah, sure. Hey, so, there¡¯s some spare time theorizing going on. I¡¯ll sum it up, so you don¡¯t have to read back over everything. Texture-Of-Barkdust : I have already read the logs. The skulljacks are exceptionally useful for text inputs. Mars!~ : He¡¯s not gonna see that before he finishes typing. JuanJuan (M) : Uh, I was doing schoolwork, I wouldn¡¯t mind a recap. Color-Of-Dawn (Camraconda / NB / Student?) : I also do not read quickly with the skulljack. [Rufus] : a. Reed (He/Him) : So the Lair has something like fifty or sixty unique green orb effects at this point, and while we¡¯re stacking useful ones like the trash removal and extra spaces, we haven¡¯t really gone all in on making dedicated production spaces. We do actually sorta make a lot of our own stuff; the riot armor is more useful than ceramic plate for most of our delves, and it¡¯s easy to produce, we¡¯re starting to grow a bunch of food here in addition to just preparing meals, that kinda thing. But so far, all of the greens that actually modify making things are sort of in a weird subcategory, and I wanted to ask some people from Officium Mundi before we all went off the rails. Also yeah, finished typing before I read that. Oops. Texture-Of-Barkdust : You say subcategory, and you mean that all of our known effects relate in some way to the business that surrounded Officium Mundi in this world, yes? Nik (Research, M) : Pretty much. It¡¯s all office stuff. Coffee, tech, printed media. Even the construction can be explained by the building being constantly remodeled before it was ours. Mars!~ : And after. We¡¯re doing remodels right now. I¡¯m filling the walls with high capacity fiberoptic cable. [Rufus] : a. Mars!~ : Oh, so in the event of a catastrophe, someone can mind meld with the building, and use a shield bracer. I¡¯m filling the walls with shield bracers too. It¡¯s an ongoing process. [Rufus] : a. Color-Of-Dawn (Camraconda / NB / Student?) : was there a question? Nik (Research, M) : Right, sorry! So, is this normal? Do you know if this is constant, is what we wanna know. Can we, eventually, find one that makes¡­ I dunno, pottery more durable if we make it here?? Mars!~ : Also can it get into technologies that don¡¯t exist in the general populace. Spaceships. Is what I¡¯m saying. Can it make us build better spaceships. Texture-Of-Barkdust : I do not believe my own group would have observed more green orb effects than yourselves. Color-Of-Dawn (Camraconda / NB / Student?) : we ate them Texture-Of-Barkdust : Yes. Shameful and horrifying as it is, we had more pressing priorities at the time. I can tell you the physical details of the totemic construct that kept us safe, as can Watcher-Under-Stone, but as to the conceptual limits of our ¡®loot drops¡¯, I know very little. Reed (He/Him) : Partly, we¡¯re interested in recreating a totem like that, since it seemed like an effective form of protection if it even worked on a dungeon from inside a dungeon. Knowing the ¡®conceptual limits¡¯ of greens would probably help. But if no one knows, we can just keep cracking them. JuanJuan (M) : Woah wait. Details like enough to build one? Mars!~ : Doesn¡¯t work. We¡¯ve tried. They need something else. Texture-Of-Barkdust : You should talk to Watcher-Under-Stone, or Thought-Of-Quiet. They, out of all of us, have done the most preserving the history of our tribulations. [Rufus] : b. Nik (Research, M) : Yeah, what Rufus said. They go by TQ now. Texture-Of-Barkdust : Ah. Noted. Reed (He/Him) : Well, it¡¯s moot anyway. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re gonna build a farm somewhere else just to test. We already know greens adapt to the place they¡¯re used, and our places are the places we want to buff. We¡¯ve got a wave of initiates coming in though that we want as full members, so they¡¯re getting the intro package. We¡¯ll get a whole new pile of data then. Reed (He/Him) : Thanks for your time, guys. [Rufus] : b. Reed (He/Him) : Thanks for your time, friends. [Rufus] : a. _____ Winter¡¯s Climb Upcoming Schedule Days now changing to Wednesday / Sunday to match common breach times! Contact Sarah to double check your schedule! 2/15 : Ethan¡¯s team, planned for 2k feet, easy route. Joel M, Z. Yai, Scent-Of-Rain, confirmed as guests 2/19 : Ethan¡¯s team, planned for 1k feet, easy route. Shallah, Rufus, Ganesh, Morgan W., confirmed as guests. 2/22 : Charlie¡¯s team, planned for 2k feet minimum, book hunt. Myles L., Bea, Knife-In-Fangs, Simon N., confirmed as guests. Update : Nate M. and Yin P. previously missing, have been reconfirmed. 2/26 : Ethan¡¯s team, planned for 1k feet, easy route. Reed M., Donny B., Shivam R., Vadik L., confirmed as guests. All schedules subject to change due to ¡°the state of things¡±. (Injuries, illness, crises, spontaneous end of the world scenarios, etc.) Anyone delving to unlock spell slots for the first time, remember to double check the list of spellbooks below that we have on offer. Build counseling is available on Friday nights, after group therapy. Books will be added as we find them! Winter¡¯s Climb Available Spellbooks : Thermodynamic Tunnel - Utility Creates a stable link between two points, moving ¡®heat¡¯ from one point to the other at a steady rate. Mountain Of The Self - Defense Provides slightly less than one second of near-perfect invulnerability. Massive Breath cost, not recommended. Iced Veins - Medical Converts liquid into a blood transfusion, with increased effectiveness the colder the liquid is, and the closer it is to pure water. Fractal Avalanche - Movement/Offense Creates multiple divergent versions of yourself on different paths to a target. All versions are the same you, don¡¯t worry about personality drift. Mesa Oasis - Medical Converts an addiction or compulsion into an increased thirst. Lasts roughly one week, moderate Breath cost, can be shared. Shadow of Winter - Utility Forms a limb out of ice. Ice is created from nothing, and is real. More Breath can be put in to alter the size, strength, and sensitivity of the limb. Cloud Prowler - Fun Makes a snow cat. Providing snow or ice makes it bigger. Doesn¡¯t last long, but each person¡¯s cat is the same cat every time, and it maintains memory. The cat can¡¯t really fight, it¡¯s just cute! Worldwalker Piton - Movement Prevents you from tripping, losing traction, or falling. Focused on the feet, so if you have the Breath, you can walk up a wall. Not as useful as it sounds. Frost Vector - Movement / Utility Removes friction from between a surface and one object. ¡®Surface¡¯ has to be something large enough to support standing on, but the other object can be anything. Survival Flare - Offense / Utility Pulls nearby heat into target object, cooling the area and potentially damaging or igniting the target. Acts slow, but lasts for a few minutes consistently. _____ Bathhouse Rules : No running! No throwing things into other pools! No body shaming! Be polite, be comfortable! Remember to purify your pool when done. Replace brooches on wall hooks. Replace pool toys in buckets. Towels in the laundry baskets. Baths will be closed next week for something Mark and Bill are calling their ¡®latest magnum opus¡¯. _____ Mr. And Mrs. Taylor This letter is to inform you, with great sorrow, of the death of your daughter. I wish I had a better way to say it, or to contact you, but this was the only way we could find, and I hope the letter has found you. Your daughter¡¯s death was a tragedy, but she died trying to help others. I just thought you should know that. If nothing else, you should know that. If you have any questions you would like answers to, especially if you do not remember having a daughter, please contact us. We are prepared to give you anything we can to help. Also her surviving personal effects are in our possession. Respectfully Amanda Wolly, Order of Endless Rooms, Recovery branch _____ Please do not feed this plant blood, even if it asks nicely. -Sign in LA office, next to Ferndinan- Yes, including nonhuman blood, thank you for requiring this clarification. -Sign in LA office, below the first sign, next to a slightly larger Ferndinan- _____ Order of Endless Rooms Operations Manual, Section 4, Part 1-18 (Officium Mundi Native Life, Wi-Figments) This entry has recently changed to confirmed. Wi-Figments are living electrical signals, that cover areas of space within Officium Mundi. It is not known if their bodies are the signal, or the space they live inside, or if they have bodies. The creatures don¡¯t display any normal infomorph characteristics, and are closer to a phenomenon than a living thing, but repeated interaction makes it clear that they are alive and can react to stimulus. Wi-Figments within the outer five miles of Officium Mundi are relatively weak. Despite the name, they don¡¯t actually interfere with wi-fi signals that have even basic encryption, and instead will interrupt and interject into radio transmissions. Attempted communication with a wi-figment results in increased hostility, and attempts to cause electric shocks through whatever hardware they have recently interacted with. Destroying hijacked hardware does not harm a wi-figment, and attempts to trap one within specific hardware has proven unsuccessful. Past the five mile line inside Officium Mundi, wi-figment zones become far stronger, and have demonstrated the ability to take over drone connections, and insert false data into skulljack links. IMPORTANT : NETWORKED PERSONS SHOULD NEVER APPROACH A WI-FIGMENT PAST THE SAFE DISTANCE The simplest way to combat a wi-figment is to either leave its area, denying it the ability to cause a meaningful disruption, or to employ a signal jammer. Wi-figment areas seem incapable of moving, and five to ten minutes of saturated exposure to a strong enough signal jammer causes a green orb drop from the central point. Green orbs dropped by wi-figments have so far always had at least three additional emotional resonance ranks, indicating a red component to the life. _____ Magical Underground Garden Barbeque Night Next Saturday Come enjoy the simple delights of how cool this place is and meet your neighbors! Make Nate¡¯s job easier by showing off your dad-skills on the grill! Vegetarian options plentiful! Bring some chips or something! -Poster on the community board, art deco design, high turnout expected- _____ Tag! You¡¯re it! -Possibly cursed sticky note found in the Research basement- _____ Treatment Plan Patient Name : Smoke Species : Ratroach Goals : Standard initial ratroach spread (elimination of pain, stabilization of internal organs, anti-rejection adaptation of body parts, reduced corrosion), lung growth purple orb adaptation (conversion of extra mass to nutrition), coloration (purple preferred, anything but white an emotional requirement for the patient), limb balancing (one extra arm, left side, see attached diagram for suggested placement), fingers (removal of claws, alter chitin to skin, improvement of thumb placements, see attached diagram) Patient Preferences : Smoke has indicated a lack of desire to have a working voice. This appears to be due to unaddressed trauma, and while we¡¯re willing to respect the choice, the question has been passed on to her therapist to talk about before the treatment proceeds. Coloration requirement has been discussed, and is attainable with no extra risk. Preparation : Biology orbs on request. Patient is open to skulljack, and so custom grown teaching programs and medical .mems are being prepared. Research into pigment production ongoing. Painkiller balance in testing with patient to find optimal doses. Treatment Estimates : 3-4 hours, 3 liters of shaper substance. Treatment Schedule : Additional therapy and final medical consent check required before scheduling. _____ Taking a personal day to think. Back on Wednesday. Might be around downstairs, call if you need anything urgent. -Note on office door shared by James and Rufus- Clarification : James is taking a personal day. Rufus is still available. -Followup note, written in purple sparkle gel pen on same page- Chapter 236 ¡°Soon enough, life will offer you an answer. But for the moment, you are Dorothy, sitting up in her bed, trying to decide which pair of slippers she wants to wear today. Black, or ruby? Black, or ruby? Until she decides, she¡¯ll be caught in a maddening state of tension, trying to live in two worlds at once. Padding around the farmhouse as it spins inside the twister, with rubies shining in her bloodstream, her auburn hair slowly turning grey. Spare a thought for poor Dorothy, the orphan girl of Kansas, who dreams in color but lives in black and white.¡± -Ozurie, The Dictionary Of Obscure Sorrows- _____ James had been awake for a while, but didn¡¯t want to move. He was warm under the blankets, and also under Alanna, who had sprawled half across his legs while she slept. Alanna slept in a very chaotic way; sometimes in motion as if she planned to jump out of bed, sometimes latching onto James or Anesh and going so still it was hard to tell if she was still breathing. Right now was a mix of the two, as she rolled over in her sleep to get a better hold on James¡¯ limbs through the thick blanket. So, entrapped, and also feeling a kind of hollow weight in his chest holding him down, James lay on his back and stared up at his ceiling. And also kind of at his partner¡¯s nude form. It was hard to not let his thoughts drift, and land on the sense of overflowing love he got when he looked at the woman currently muttering something into one of his knees in her sleep. James found his partners beautiful, every time he looked at them. And then he dropped back against the pillow, tears forming unbidden as that feeling got washed away and overwhelmed by a very painful guilt. James wasn¡¯t blind to the things that happened to him. He had a therapist, and even though he spent most of his days being too busy and late to things, he did keep up on that. Survivor¡¯s guilt was bad enough, when it wasn¡¯t layered on top of the obvious PTSD he joked about not having. It had been something he¡¯d struggled with twice in his life before; when he¡¯d gotten out of Officium Mundi, and then later after Status Quo had killed a chunk of his friends and companions. And then maybe also when he¡¯d witnessed an entire city being executed in Townton. Possibly also when he¡¯d had to take a potential one way trip into the Akashic Sewer to stop it from killing a whole high school, and watched one of his best friends get nearly murdered by some ancient fake god thing. And then maybe also when he failed to save a bunch of potion people from the Alchemists. And¡­ James couldn¡¯t decide if he wanted to laugh, or scream. His life had turned into a series of events where he was in the right place to help, and failed to do a good enough job. He always seemed strong enough to save himself, though. Twelve percent. The number wouldn¡¯t get out of his thoughts. A twelve percent survival rate. Which still had a chance to dip, given what he knew about suicide rates for dungeon survivors. He¡¯d failed so utterly that he only got barely more than a tenth of those people out safely. And as much as he wanted to throw himself back into paladin duties, to get back to checklisting problems and making people¡¯s lives better and doing good¡­ He was so tired. Not just tired, he was hurting. A deep wound in his heart that was so intense it made his old surgery scar ache. James idly brought a hand to his chest, and traced the line where his scar used to be, before it had been wiped away in Deb¡¯s struggle to keep his face from sloughing off. It wasn¡¯t like it was a big loss, he barely remembered getting that scar. He¡¯d been shot right in the heart, and barely remembered that moment. How utterly fucked up. Even worse that he was pretty sure it had been in or around that moment that he¡¯d lost another friend, or at least ally, so thoroughly he didn¡¯t even remember them. James wasn¡¯t doing okay. But he also didn¡¯t want to wake Alanna up, so he did his best not to sob openly, and just stared at his ceiling. The room was dark, despite it being midday outside, with only a half dozen LEDs from various electronics and one fist sized yellow orb on the shelf overhead providing light. James¡¯ eyes had adjusted to it enough that everything looked like faint blue silhouettes. It was cold, too. Forty eight degrees Fahrenheit outside, and foggy, according to the red totem that told him the weather that James was sure they¡¯d removed from the apartment at some point. Or at least moved far enough away that it wouldn¡¯t overlap the bedroom. He didn¡¯t know what he should be doing. He was taking the day off to decompress, which, as he lay in bed and let his thoughts run rampant, seemed like a worse and worse idea. James didn¡¯t want to decompress. He wanted to distract himself. Distracting himself was how he¡¯d handled being terrified of everything his whole life, and it had worked out really well so far. As long as he didn¡¯t think too hard about the future, or his own mortality, or everything that had gone or could go wrong, he was fine. If he just got up and found something to do, maybe cook a late breakfast or find something on YouTube, or maybe even just go back to sleep, he¡¯d be fine. ¡°You are not doing fine.¡± The whispered word came from half next to his ear, half inside his head, as Zhu¡¯s sleepy manifestation started to coalesce. The navigator¡¯s orange light feathers sprouting along the arm James had curved up on his chest, a trio of eyes opening amongst the manifestation to glower up at him before the gaze softened to something concerned. ¡°More than normal.¡± ¡°I have a normal amount of not fine?¡± James kept his voice low. He tried to make the words come out amused, but didn¡¯t really manage it. Zhu brushed against his skin. ¡°You do. You are always in tension with yourself. But¡­ this is worse. What can I do?¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± James whispered back, feeling like moving would take too much effort. ¡°I just need to sleep more.¡± ¡°Mmh?¡± Alanna¡¯s voice joined them in the dim light. ¡°Oh hey. Morning.¡± She smiled up at James, languidly stretching as she pushed off his legs. When James didn¡¯t reply right away, Alanna cocked her head to the side. ¡°You alright?¡± ¡°Eh.¡± James said. ¡°No!¡± Zhu chimed in abruptly, his own voice somewhat strained. The tone made James look down at the manifestation on his arm to see the navigator¡¯s eyes all pressed closed. For a brief moment, actual amusement did its job and took over his thoughts. ¡°Zhu¡¯s embarrassed.¡± He clarified for Alanna. ¡°You know, because¡­¡± He waved a hand up at her naked body. She glanced down at herself, poking a finger into one of her breasts like she was inspecting it for the first time. ¡°Oh, huh. Yeah. Never really thought about it, but is it weird for you two to share headspace in the bedroom?¡± ¡°I also hadn¡¯t thought about it.¡± James latched onto the distraction like a drowning man to driftwood. ¡°Oddly enough, I don¡¯t think it bothers me? I¡¯ve been really comfortable with everything small lately. Though I might be self conscious next time you or Anesh take your pants off.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers flicked wildly in all directions as if blown by unseen wind. ¡°I find it embarrassing!¡± He told them. ¡°I do not want to be some unwanted voyeur! That is why I nap.¡± ¡°Heh. Well I don¡¯t mind if you watch!¡± Alanna stretched her arms over her head. ¡°I already handle James and Anesh at the same time, what¡¯s one more?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t even¡­¡± Zhu trailed off. ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t¡­ that is¡­¡± ¡°Alanna, stop flirting, we just woke up.¡± James said with a smile that was starting to crack around the edges and an exhausted voice. She dropped back to kneel next to him with a worried expression. ¡°Alright, innovative new options for our orgies aside, what¡¯s up? You¡­ you don¡¯t look good. What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Tired.¡± James said. ¡°Tired because I woke you up falling on you, or tired because¡­ because you¡¯re not doing okay?¡± He nodded, adding in a small voice, ¡°That one.¡± The hot pressure just behind his nose that heralded a fresh wave of tears for no particular reason except for all of them at once. Reacting to his choked words, Alanna just nodded, and slipped herself back under the blankets. Pushing under James shoulder to roll him onto his side, so that she could more easily snake an arm underneath him and wrap him in a hug that was both warm and also had him being elbowed in the side. It was still something he hadn¡¯t realized he needed, and before he knew it, James found himself shaking as he just pressed his face into his pillow, and let himself cry, while his partner held him tightly against her chest. ¡°I should¡­¡± Zhu started to say. Alanna hushed him instantly. ¡°Just fucking hug him you dumbass.¡± She said, and after a moment of slight trepidation, James felt a blanket of feathers start to run down his side, another hand settling over his arm, and a sinuous feathered tail wrapping around one of his calves. None of it made anything go away. James had still failed, both himself and especially the people relying on him, in a monumental way. But at least for a little while, he didn¡¯t feel like he had to keep everything together. He just let himself drift, and be held, and be elbowed in the ribs. And eventually, he did feel better. Not like anything was really fixed, but like he could keep going. Everything that happened happened, and couldn¡¯t be changed, but the energy to do what he¡¯d always done was back. The motivation to get back up, and keep going, and try to do better next time. ¡°I tried to lie to Harlan.¡± James whispered, just barely loud enough for Alanna to hear. A small confession, just one more thing that was nagging at him, but still something personal and painful. Her arms shifted around him, and James was abruptly aware of just how nice his own skin felt, compared to when it was recently in the process of sloughing off. ¡°Lie how?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°They lost their little notebook, the one they keep their memories in. I told them they knew me, told them I could help. Basically tried to brainwash them, really.¡± James shrunk down against his partner. ¡°Wait, when was that?¡± ¡°Day two, I guess?¡± ¡°So, after you¡¯d spent time with them, you told Harlan they knew you, and you feel bad?¡± ¡°I¡¯m missing some of the context.¡± James murmured. ¡°I was going to bring them back. Tell them they were a member of the Order. Just fake a whole life for them.¡± Alanna ran a hand through James¡¯ hair, saying nothing as she almost instantly got her fingers tangled in the long strands. When she did speak, it was to ask a question. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna say that¡¯s not fucked up. But. You didn¡¯t lie about wanting to help them.¡± She leaned forward to nuzzle the back of his neck. ¡°You made a call. And yeah, I think you fucked it, not just since obviously Harlan didn¡¯t really believe you. So don¡¯t do that again. Do better next time. Oh, and apologize to Harlan when we see them again¡± The acknowledgement that there would probably be a ¡®next time¡¯ was worrying. And yet, the words were soothing, even though, or perhaps because, they were so blunt. ¡°Thanks.¡± James muttered into Alanna¡¯s arm. ¡°Again.¡± ¡°Hey, it¡¯s what I¡¯m here for, right?¡± She said cheerfully. ¡°I mean, among a long list of other things. I¡¯m pretty great, all around, really.¡± Alanna squeezed James as he laughed. Then he stilled, and spoke simply. ¡°You really are.¡± James said with an utterly earnest voice. ¡°You are. You and Anesh. And you too, Zhu. My life is filled with people who are pretty great.¡± He squirmed free from her grasp and pulled himself up to a sitting position, the mattress warping under him. ¡°You want some breakfast?¡± ¡°I¡¯m actually just here napping before I head back to Response duties.¡± Alanna said, letting herself flop onto her back. ¡°So I ate already. Also, hey, is there a reason we don¡¯t have one of the apartments in the Lair? I keep meaning to ask on this. We¡¯d be closer to everyone we know. Oh, and you could smooch your new boyfriends whenever you wanted!¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t¡­¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°How many boyfriends do you have?¡± Zhu asked, sounding actually curious. ¡°How do you count Anesh?¡± The infomorph was still pointedly trying not to look at Alanna out of residual embarrassment, which made some sense. He was in large part grown out of James¡¯ own thoughts and memories, and James had a hell of a time getting past his own anxiety riddled hangups. ¡°I count him as one, unless it¡¯s funny.¡± Alanna said sagely. ¡°So in this case, James has seven boyfriends.¡± James ticked off on his fingers, silently mouthing names. ¡°That¡­ that doesn¡¯t add up.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Like, there¡¯s no version of this where¡­ wait are you counting Zhu? We aren¡¯t dating!¡± ¡°Are we not?¡± Zhu asked in a perfectly reasonable tone. ¡°We do go everywhere together. And sleep together!¡± Even as a being made up of information and not biology, Zhu couldn¡¯t keep their deadpan voice from cracking into a giggle as they revealed they were poking fun at James. ¡°That still doesn¡¯t add up!¡± James threw his arms up, Zhu¡¯s feathers not reacting to the sudden movement at all. ¡°Whatever. It¡¯s fine. I have some boyfriends. Is that what you both want to hear?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°I think it¡¯s cute, and hot, and other nice words.¡± She reached up a hand and cupped James¡¯ face. ¡°I love you so fucking much it¡¯s not even funny. And I love how many people you have your own love for. So, yeah, I do wanna hear that you have some boyfriends.¡± ¡°Mmmrgh.¡± James made a flustered noise at the words from his girlfriend. ¡°Fine.¡± He eventually grumbled, folding his arms and turning away. ¡°Alright, fine. Also I think we haven¡¯t switched apartments because moving is a giant pain, and this one is magic. Also can I get a teleport ride back to the Lair with you?¡± ¡°I thought you were taking today off.¡± ¡°I want to check in with JP about the giant hypno-plant.¡± Alanna stopped with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed, halfway into pulling on a pair of pants. ¡°The what?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. You should hear about that tonight. We found¡­ well, a bunch of people, and a giant hypno-plant, and it¡¯s a whole thing. It¡¯s actually still there, we didn¡¯t kill it or anything. Honestly I think it¡¯s pretty cool? Like, it looks awesome, and it didn¡¯t actually kill anyone, so that¡¯s a plus. And then it might be the first mixed physical and infomorph thing we¡¯ve found in a while. I dunno if the awe dragon counts.¡± James realized he was kind of rambling and trailed off. ¡°Anyway that was yesterday. And then I realized I was¡­ uh¡­¡± he took a deep breath. His partner stood up, tugging on her jeans the rest of the way and leaning over to ruffle his hair. ¡°You realized you never take breaks, and you¡¯re still human?¡± ¡°For now.¡± James vowed, half joking as he clenched a fist and turned a determined gaze up at the ceiling. ¡°Oh yeah? What¡¯cha gonna transform into?¡± Alanna asked as she dug through the clean laundry hamper that they used in place of an actual closet. ¡°You¡¯re the first person to ask me that!¡± James cheerfully replied, crawling to the edge of the bed to playfully swat at her butt before getting an indignant outburst from Zhu. ¡°Oh, sorry!¡± He apologized rapidly to the complicit navigator, though not to Alanna, who just soaked up the attention. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m not sure yet! I¡¯m thinking some kind of lizard moth. Like how the Sewer keeps making everything two creatures smashed together, only doing a good job this time? I want a lizard tail.¡± ¡°I have a lizard-ish tail¡­¡± Zhu muttered. ¡°You do! And it¡¯s great! And I want one! Zhu, you know I can¡¯t actually feel through you when you¡¯re manifested, right?¡± James asked. Zhu rustled in acknowledgement while Alanna let out a disappointed noise. ¡°That ruins at least one of my plans!¡± She said with a mock forlorn swoon. ¡°Don¡¯t ask which one.¡± ¡°Kay.¡± ¡°Also, moth? Really?¡± ¡°Mothgirls are in right now.¡± James nodded energetically. ¡°For obvious reasons.¡± Alanna had a delighted grin on her face, barely keeping it from devolving into a laugh by biting her lip. ¡°Buddy, you¡¯re just raising so many new questions.¡± ¡°It¡¯s my mutant superpower.¡± James said, getting out of bed and starting to get dressed himself, wondering if they had any of the exercise potion in the kitchen that he could use to stop every part of his musculature structure from aching. He grabbed the telepad Alanna was looking for off his desk and held it out to her just as she turned toward him. His partner took it with a wordless gratitude and a sudden kiss. ¡°Also it¡¯ll probably a while before we¡¯re doing transformations for the purpose of personal amusement.¡± ¡°Well I¡¯m looking forward to it. I like how I look, but I know you¡¯re still working on it.¡± Alanna said as she double checked the address written on the pad for the Lair. ¡°Zhu, you make sure that he stays out of trouble, okay?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Zhu saluted. James shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m working on lots of stuff. Anyway. Hey, don¡¯t get into too much trouble today, okay?¡± He said, leaning in to kiss her again. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tonight.¡± Alanna just gave him a grin and a thumbs up before she vanished. ¡°You are still not feeling better.¡± Zhu said from James¡¯ arm, getting a jump out of him. ¡°I am.¡± James protested lightly. ¡°Just not perfect. But absolutely better. And¡­ thanks, you know? You¡¯re more supportive than I think you know.¡± Zhu preened at the words. ¡°Yes, I learned it from watching you.¡± He said. ¡°Among other things.¡± James groaned as he opened the door to the bedroom, letting in the cold grey light of late February, his night vision vanishing as he blinked away spots. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m actually sorry about that. I didn¡¯t think. And Alanna being maximum Alanna today probably didn¡¯t leave you feeling comfortable, so¡­ I¡¯ll talk to her about that later, okay?¡± ¡°It¡­¡± Zhu¡¯s orange glow shifted, feathers rearranging along James¡¯ arm to group up at his shoulder, small eyes reopening to look at him closely. ¡°It was unexpected, but not unwelcome.¡± The navigator said eventually as James headed to the kitchen, stopping briefly to perform the idle and mundane chore of making sure the clothing in their dryer was actually dry. ¡°How could it be? I may be someone different, but so much of me is built from you.¡± ¡°That¡­ that¡¯s fair.¡± James nodded. ¡°This hasn¡¯t come up much before.¡± ¡°I am more awake now.¡± Zhu nodded against him. ¡°I don¡¯t mimic your feelings, exactly. But every completed journey makes me more alive. And my own feelings are growing. Confusing as they are, I welcome them.¡± With an uncertain nod, James passed through the living room and rounded the corner into their kitchen, and started trying to find some leftovers to eat. ¡°Well, you know, just tell me if you need anything. I am also here for you, after all. We¡¯re in this together.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here at all, yes.¡± Zhu spoke, eyes flickering to look out the back patio and toward the walking path that lay beyond the wall of brambles that separated the apartment¡¯s parking lot from the world. ¡°I feel a strange urge to go with Alanna¡¯s joking. As if there is a whole new set of destinations waiting there.¡± James settled on making some kind of sandwich abomination from a few different things in the fridge, pulling stuff out onto the counter as he looked around the quiet and empty apartment. Auberdeen wasn¡¯t even here today, and Sarah and every copy of Anesh were out doing Order things for one reason or another. ¡°Okay, so, I wanna get something clear here. Alanna¡¯s not joking.¡± Zhu gave him a disbelieving look. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t get me wrong, she¡¯s having fun when she says it. She likes flustering or embarrassing people she likes. But she¡¯s actually flirting with you.¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Does¡­ does she know that I am only barely a physical object, sometimes?¡± Zhu asked. ¡°I want you to think about every conversation you¡¯ve had with Alanna, and ask yourself if that would be a barrier to her.¡± The navigator made a noise like crunching gravel. ¡°Hm. Fair.¡± He said. ¡°But¡­ we do not know each other¡­? Not very well.¡± ¡°And yet, she knows you, and trusts you, and thinks you¡¯re cool.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I dunno, it¡¯s not like there¡¯s a required threshold before you start wanting to be with someone. I just wanted to make sure that you know that she¡¯s being one hundred percent honest when she talks about sex.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathered form rustled, like a wave of air pressing feathers down in a moving line. Small shoots of darker orange running like ink in water through his body. ¡°Ah.¡± He said. ¡°More or less my reaction too.¡± James said as he finished putting some weird pickled chilies Anesh had bought on his sandwich. He closed the bread, and tested a bite of the mix of different fridge things. ¡°Hm. Not bad. Never doing this again.¡± He took another bite, flavors of leftover fish and pickled chilies and sliced onions exploding in his mouth. ¡°Do you want some?¡± He asked Zhu. ¡°I do not eat. I¡¯m not sure if I will learn for that.¡± Zhu informed him. ¡°And I am¡­ going to go back now. To think.¡± ¡°Yeah, no rush. You¡¯re not the only one who needs some quiet time.¡± James dusted breadcrumbs off his fingers and reached his hand over to his arm to tap Zhu¡¯s manifested limb in a friendly gesture. ¡°Just¡­ I dunno, remember that I love you too. No matter what form that settles in. Even when I¡¯m all fucked up.¡± Zhu made a noise of understanding, feathers rustling one more time in a gentle motion across James¡¯ arm, before the dusty orange light broke into motes that faded away to nothing and he retreated to his place running in the back of James¡¯ mind. James stood in the kitchen, silently finishing his sandwich in an empty apartment, feet getting cold as he stood there alone. He realized abruptly, as he was staring at an Officium Mundi propaganda poster on the wall, that Auberdeen was probably off meeting with a college advisor. He¡¯d missed the original date, what with being indisposed. Or attempted to be disposed of. Or¡­ there was pun there, but he didn¡¯t want to put in the work to reach it. He was gone. Fuck, he¡¯d been gone. James washed his empty plate and hands in the sink with slow motions. Comfort and support from the people around him was helpful, it really was. But he¡¯d been nearly dead again, over and over. The clean and easy win with JP yesterday didn¡¯t actually make him feel better, it just made the contrast even sharper, that when he was mostly on his own, he¡¯d fucked up spectacularly. At least, it felt like it was him. He did know that it wasn¡¯t all his fault. If nothing else, the guy who had tried to murder Harlan and decided that twenty-ish people were acceptable collateral damage bore an amount of responsibility. James had failed to save them, but he hadn¡¯t been the one to kill them. He abruptly felt tired, and dizzy. Vision blurring, he toppled forward heavily onto the kitchen counter, making some kind of sound of confusion as he tried to keep himself upright long enough to drag his legs over to one of the couches and drape himself over it. The feeling was sudden and out of place; this wasn¡¯t how he felt when he was depressed, or even mildly disassociating. This felt almost entirely physical, and he didn¡¯t like it. Once he was laying down it started to fade, but he resigned himself to getting to a doctor soon to get checked out. Despite the fact that he¡¯d told people he was hit in the head repeatedly, the dungeon hadn¡¯t actually gone down that way, and this probably wasn¡¯t head trauma. Then the sleepy and dizzy feelings passed, and he was fine again. Like he¡¯d gotten a second wind. Or maybe it was just his Endurance kicking in. ¡°Oh!¡± James practically barked the word into the couch cushions that his face was muffled by as he had a stray though. What, really, were the odds that his Endurance wasn¡¯t just physical, but mental as well? Was he failing to take care of his mental health because the magic stat that let him push through was helping him ignore the problem? ¡°Shit, I wonder if that¡¯s gonna have some negative implications.¡± He wondered aloud. No one answered his dry comment. So after a bit of laying on the couch and wondering if a nap might be a good idea, he made the decision that it was too late to do anything about it, but that he could keep an eye out for it going forward. Sometimes that was just the best option on offer. Oh, and probably also tell his therapist too. Dungeon affiliated therapy, James figured, was gonna be a really important field in the future. ¡°I should go¡­ do something.¡± James spoke aloud to himself as he rolled onto his back and stared at the living room ceiling. He was briefly distracted trying to figure out why there were holes in the living room ceiling, a trio of black dots in a triangle. Had they hung something there a year ago and he¡¯d forgotten? ¡°I could fix the ceiling.¡± He offered himself, and instantly rejected that idea. If he was getting randomly dizzy, standing on a step ladder to fill holes sounded like the worst idea. James was dumb sometimes, but he wasn¡¯t that bad. Mostly his idiocy came in the form of being oblivious to things. Which was actually, he thought with a grin, why dating Alanna was perfect. Someone who would just bluntly say things was exactly what he wanted. Though he was more than willing to admit that if Alanna actually did want to include Zhu in their sexy times, that he was going to be very shy and awkward about it. Self knowledge, James decided as he thought about it, was the key to success. The whole thing mostly just sent his mind racing down the potential future society that included infomorphs in it. Relationships among only humans were already complicated and messy sometimes. He was absurdly lucky to have partners that were about as chill as he was about most things; most people did not get that. A lot of general behaviors in modern society were really, really bad for relationships. And that problem wasn¡¯t going to magically vanish just because your partner was a ghost fish that lived in your brain. Or, or, someone else¡¯s brain. Cross-person infomorph romance was going to be a hilarious nightmare of logistics and communication. James hadn¡¯t felt comfortable dating anybody when he¡¯d lived with his parents, and there at least he¡¯d had his own bedroom. How much worse would it be if you had to drop in on a dream to ask if you could be pushed into manifestation so you could go out with your host¡¯s best friend? Daniel and Pathfinder had kind of oopsed into what was possibly the cleanest option, which was dating each other. Though, the ethics of dating someone partly made out of your own thoughts was a little weird, and James realized it was somewhat ironic to think that while as part of the tangent-laden train of thought that included a threesome with his own navigator. But at least, on a fundamental level, dating an infomorph that was partly you was a strong expression of self-love. That thought brought him up short. Because James¡­ well, James didn¡¯t like himself. Not really. He was working on it, obviously. Half of his therapy wasn¡¯t for weird dungeon hypnosis or survivor¡¯s guilt, but just for the kind of bitter self loathing that he¡¯d lived with for most of his life and was trying to break out of the habit of. He wouldn¡¯t say he hated himself. But James didn¡¯t really like James that much. Part of why being something else was appealing; he¡¯d already rather be someone else too. Except¡­ Zhu was partly made from him. And he cared about Zhu a lot. It wasn¡¯t something he¡¯d put serious thought into yet, because their entire connection was so new. But James did care. Zhu had been there for him when he needed it, and the navigator¡¯s senses of both humor and ire fit with James well. And Zhu cared about him. It was certainly interesting, at least, how hard it was to hate yourself when ¡®yourself¡¯ was someone else. The thought had him huffing out a breath of quiet laughter when he fit the pieces together. Crossing his arms as if he could scorn the universe into not having that kind of dramatic irony. It didn¡¯t work. But it felt good to try. ¡°God dammit, I am gonna end up with ¡®some boyfriends¡¯, aren¡¯t I?¡± He muttered, rolling off the couch and pushing himself up from the crouch he fell into next to the table. ¡°Whatever. As long as everyone¡¯s fine with it. I¡¯ll build some kind of harem room in our next apartment and really dig at JP over this.¡± It was probably an empty threat. James didn¡¯t even like the stereotypical harem aesthetic. Silks weren¡¯t his thing. At least there was one perk to dating an infomorph that lived in your head; dream meetings offered a relief from the time pressure of the casual polyamory that James had going on. Possibly. Again, he was still in uncharted waters. James almost decided to go find Daniel and ask him about it, before remembering that he was actively taking a day off from anything Order related. The abrupt tiredness wearing off left James feeling like he actually had more life in him than before, and sitting at his desk watching stuff on YouTube didn¡¯t actually feel like something enticing anymore. So he settled on a walk to break down the almost nervous energy that he had going on. Just a random walk around outside in the already darkening cold air. He regretted it before he was even all the way down the steps from the apartment to the parking lot. His coat barely did anything for the sharp wind, especially on his face, and the concealed holster on his back let the frigid air flow against his skin more than he wanted. The various other magic items he was wearing on his arms didn¡¯t help either. James had hoped he¡¯d start to feel more comfortable walking around with a dungeontech arsenal on him, but if it was going to happen, it wasn¡¯t going to be soon. And yet, he¡¯d pulled the stuff on¡­ not without thinking, but without consideration, really. His only thought had been that if he was going outside, if he was going to leave the safe place of his apartment, he needed to be armed. And shielded. And armed again. Just in case it happened again. That was a vibe he was going to have stuck in his head forever. For the rest of his life, every time he stepped outside, James was going to consider, either subconsciously or actively, the what if it happens again factor of his day. It had been controllable before. There had been crises, dangers, threats, yes. But they¡¯d been things that he¡¯d hunted down, or things that just couldn¡¯t happen again. Like how Status Quo couldn¡¯t hurt anyone now; they were all either dead, or scattered, and their ability to wage war was effectively removed. Or how a lot of the dungeon problems, James could have just¡­ not done anything about. People would have died, he would have felt guilty. But he could have rationalized that it wasn¡¯t his problem, wasn¡¯t his fight, and left it alone. This was different. This was¡­ It was experiential knowledge that at any moment, someone could try to hurt him, and probably succeed. It was the lived events that reminded him that he would always be unprepared and not good enough. And the constant nagging thought that maybe this would be the day that everyone in the grocery store was killed because he wasn¡¯t fast enough. That nowhere was safe, and that any given moment could turn to a litany of violence without warning. James made it about three hundred feet down the walking path behind his apartment before he started hyperventilating, and dropped onto his ass in the partially frozen soggy grass to the side of the pavement. An internal struggle popped up, as he intellectually knew that the abrupt panic attack needed to be controlled, but he felt like maybe he should just claw his skin off instead and maybe that would help somehow. He tried to breathe steadily, and couldn¡¯t manage to do it quite right. He pulled out a trick his therapist had taught him, and clenched every muscle he had at once, held it, and then relaxed. That actually helped. At least, it made his heart stop doing the thing where it tried to kill him, and his hands stop shaking uncontrollably. It wasn¡¯t clear how long he sat there, though it wasn¡¯t long enough for the damp grass to fully soak through his pants. But it was long enough for a middle aged man walking a dog to get ten steps past him, then stop and turn. ¡°You need help?¡± The older gentleman asked in a voice like he regretted talking to a stranger already. The dog, a boisterous little beagle puppy, took the opportunity to strain against their leash to get to James. The situation made James laugh. It was the perfect mix of concern for another human, and absolute unwillingness to talk to another human. He loved it. It was the modern condition in a neat little bundle. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ ow. I¡¯m okay.¡± He said, giving the dog some pets as the pupper tried to crawl up onto his lap. ¡°Just¡­ you know what, you don¡¯t need to know. Thanks though. Cute dog!¡± The man¡¯s eyes brightened. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s been great! The kids love her.¡± He smiled as he stepped over and reached down to try to nudge the puppy off of James, offering him a hand up while he did so which James took. ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay? You didn¡¯t look good.¡± ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯ll be fine.¡± James partially lied, trying to redirect the conversation back to the dog, which was much safer. ¡°So, just got her?¡± ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡± The man asked with a chuckle. ¡°Well, puppy.¡± James laughed, maybe a little too loud. ¡°But also just the way you said she¡¯s been great. Like you¡¯re getting used to it.¡± ¡°Ah, a detective!¡± The man nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t want a dog, personally. I¡¯m allergic. But she showed up on our doorstep one day, and the kids wouldn¡¯t let her go to the shelter. No idea where she came from.¡± James paused, the smile slipping from his face as he titled his head and looked down at the beagle. He tried to remember, but couldn¡¯t quite decide if the dog was familiar or not. ¡°Huh.¡± He said slowly. ¡°I¡­ hm. She seems friendly?¡± ¡°Really friendly.¡± The man confirmed. ¡°Worst guard dog. If anyone breaks in, she¡¯ll show them where the treats are and ask for one before she barks.¡± It was probably a coincidence, James figured. But they were still in the area. And how far could a magically spawned dog get before finding an owner for a Very Friendly Dog? Everyone loved a very friendly dog. They¡¯d never managed to figure out where the dogs that visited their apartment came from, or went. And this was just weird enough to be a potential option. ¡°Well, thanks for the hand.¡± James said, dusting his pants off. ¡°Yeah, have a good one.¡± The man gave an almost dismissive wave, briskly walking away with a tug on the leash now that he was no longer socially required to stick around. James watched the dog as he stood on the path surrounded by greenery and tried to get his shoulders to untense. That had been weirdly pleasant; his experience with random people that weren¡¯t in his weirdly specific social group was that there was a fifty fifty chance they¡¯d be rapidly horrible in some way. This, though, was the right mix of amusing and silly to break him out of his downward spiral and get him moving again. Moving sounded good, though. He decided to go the opposite direction, and not stalk the guy, just so it didn¡¯t feel awkward. Once he got used to the cold, James started appreciating the walk a lot more. There was a kind of misty fog hanging in the air that made the distant fir trees look like they were shadows looming in the distance. But friendly, familiar ones. The kind of lurking forms that were like old friends in an orbit around you. Warm voices from the living room while you were dozing off. He crossed a familiar footbridge. New enough that he knew it had been built in his lifetime, heavy wood beams still sturdy, weatherproofing intact. But old enough that he remembered a hundred walks across it, and a dozen scars from kids carving hearts or the weird S into it gave it character. James was mostly thinking about how he was going to age faster than a lot of people. Somehow doing it while keeping his brain from touching on the end cap of that subject, which was that he was going to die sooner too, a thought that assuredly would have dropped him into another downward spiral. But mostly, he focused on the magic of it. His apartment had an extra hour for sleep. Which, in addition to ruining his ability to keep a schedule even further, meant that he often lived twenty five hour days. Roughly every three years, he lived a whole extra month. It was a small thing, but it added up, and James was positive it wouldn¡¯t be the last. The Order¡¯s policy of stacking green orb buffs on places like the Lair to act as an organizational force multiplier meant that there¡¯d be at least one or two more of those in his life at some point. And yet, oddly, it didn¡¯t bother him. Because, while from an outside perspective it might look like he was trading days of his life for slightly more productivity, from his perspective, it was exactly as much life as he would have had anyway. He just got to react to big events slightly better. And sleep more. Or, rather, sleep as much as he probably should be anyway, only without being late to things. He should sleep more. James stifled a yawn as he strolled, not going anywhere specific and taking his time doing it. If, as he was worried, his Endurance was affecting his emotional state, then he needed to stop pushing himself for a bit, or he¡¯d never start recovering. So he tried to let that happen. Stopped trying to be ¡®fine¡¯, and started just trying to let things be. Didn¡¯t think of anything except the stray thoughts in his head, didn¡¯t worry about tomorrow, just watched the trees on one side and the cars on the other as he emerged to a sidewalk by a main road and kept going. When he realized that he was closing in on where the cafe used to be, James faltered. This was probably the kind of thing better faced in a month, after a lot of therapy sessions, and with a friend. Which was why it was a bit frustrating when his legs kept moving anyway, and he found himself skirting a familiar strip mall parking lot, and approaching an empty lot roped off by police tape. Standing in front of where the door to his comfortable evening outing destination used to be, James stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head up like he was tracing the outline of a building that wasn¡¯t here anymore. It didn¡¯t hurt. He found that strange. Maybe he¡¯d finally snapped, and this was what it felt like to just no longer be able to give a shit. Or maybe it was because the building was the least valuable thing that had been taken away. He didn¡¯t know. A group of teenagers walked behind him, laughing a little too loudly. A couple got out of their car and made their way to the bar and grill next door. An older man crossed by to slowly descend the concrete steps to the pond behind the strip mall, maybe to feed the ducks. Life continued. Just down one cafe. James had kind of expected he¡¯d be angry about it, but he wasn¡¯t. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was. Sad? Sad didn¡¯t seem like it meant enough. Like the word was too small to contain the vast yawning and sorrowful hole in his chest. But just because it didn¡¯t feel appropriate didn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t feel it. Sad. Sad that he wasn¡¯t enough, sad that it happened, but most of all, sad that he had to keep on living. That the world wouldn¡¯t stop turning just because there was one more tragedy on the growing pile. Two hundred feet of parking lot away, a police patrol car sat idling. James wondered if it was the same one that had been there when the building had gotten uprooted and flung across reality. Intellectually, he was aware that it was somewhat unreasonable to expect a single cop to stop¡­ that. All of that. They were either hit so hard by the field effect and the Order constantly breaking the chain of evidence with blue orbs that they were probably constantly confused about why they even had someone constantly watching this parking lot, or they were all potential puppets of the Long Arm Of The Law, and it was really hard to get mad at someone that you pitied. But he was still kinda annoyed. ¡°The problem,¡± he started saying, hands still shoved in his pockets as he stared at the hole in the foundation where he used to get coffee and flirt with his partners and tip with skill orbs, ¡°is that superhero comics suck.¡± ¡°Sorry, what?¡± A teenage kid with a column of poofy hair that James was instantly jealous of took his earbuds out as he walked by. ¡°Oh, no, I¡¯m talking to myself. Again.¡± James kept staring at the empty chunk of building as the kid gave him a weird look and hurried off. ¡°They do though.¡± He said softer. ¡°If we live in a world where we have threats that only people with superpowers can stop, problems only they can solve, then¡­ we need more people with superpowers. And every person with superpowers is a chance for this again.¡± He snarled at the wreckage. ¡°For more problems.¡± He sighed. ¡°Maybe I should just go talk to the cop. See if I can get Long on the line and¡­ and just ask him to work with us. Ask him to try.¡± James glanced over at the bulky police SUV again, dotted in lights and decals. ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could¡­¡± He got about six steps into his walk, just dropping off the curb and onto the parking lot¡¯s black asphalt. Then a plume of orange light cascaded down his arm and back as Zhu jumped out into reality. The newly manifested limbs off-balancing James and getting a startled yelp from him as Zhu appeared. ¡°Right. Leaving!¡± The navigator announced, dipping his hand into James coat pocket and ripping the telepad waiting there. James didn¡¯t even waver as the ground under his feet changed to the landing pad in the Lair. He still had his hands in his pockets, staring at a man who was now five miles distant. ¡°I coulda taken him.¡± He offered calmly to Zhu. ¡°If it went badly.¡± ¡°Yes. I know.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice sounded like an engine rolling its eyes. ¡°But Alanna didn¡¯t ask me to help you win fights, she asked me to keep you out of trouble.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± James sighed as he stepped off the platform and checked in with the person from Recovery on duty today. ¡°But what if¡­ what if we got in a little trouble? Like, fun trouble. Just so I have something to do to keep me out of big trouble?¡± Zhu pulled half his feathers back into wherever he kept his manifestation when he wasn¡¯t active, shivering along James¡¯ arm as he did so. ¡°You don¡¯t need to spend this much effort convincing me. I am simply here to prevent brawls.¡± ¡°Great! Let¡¯s go see¡­ oh, wait, I ended up at the Lair anyway.¡± James deflated slightly as he realized what had happened. ¡°Holy shit I¡¯m bad at taking days off.¡± ¡°We could see if Dave and Pendragon are in, and go flying?¡± ¡°That does sound fun. We could also try to get a D&D game going. It¡¯s been a while, and I bet there¡¯s people around here who¡¯d be into it.¡± James hummed to himself. Zhu shook himself. ¡°Your hobbies are all stationary!¡± He protested. James nodded and let a smile creep into his voice. ¡°It¡¯s true, you¡¯ve got me there. How bout we just go hang out with whoever we run into first, and then pretend that was a plan?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a good plan.¡± Zhu said, an orange dotted line of light flickering into James¡¯ vision and directing him to take a left at the end of the basement hall. ¡°Let¡¯s wander this way.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that way?¡± ¡°Our therapist¡¯s office. She has a time slot open. I checked.¡± Zhu said. ¡°If we wander that way, aimlessly, it is likely we will run into her!¡± Slowly opening his mouth, James found that he didn¡¯t really have anything to say in response to that. Finding himself with his hand held up, fingers in a flat line like he was prepared to deliver a retort, he equally slowly lowered the limb back down and closed his lips together, humming to himself. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± He sighed eventually. ¡°But after that we should try to roll some kind of pickup RPG.¡± ¡°I will accept this deal.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± James paused, leaning on the wall to let a line of camracondas pass them in the hall before he started walking. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± he took a breath. Tried to think of what he was trying to say. Then found it. ¡°Thanks, Zhu.¡± James muttered. ¡°Maybe a little silly, but thanks.¡± The navigator opened a pair of eyes to look back at James¡¯s face from his arm. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Now, let us go confound modern human psychological models by implicitly asking whether or not both of us talking to a therapist together is couples therapy or not.¡± James chuckled. ¡°Hey, when did you have time to check this anyway?¡± ¡°I am mysterious and powerful.¡± Zhu replied. ¡°That¡¯s my line.¡± James gave a mock gasp of shock. Zhu flicked at his neck with manifested orange feathers. ¡°Our line.¡± The navigator said. ¡°Now, onward.¡± Announcement Hey folks. I should have put this in Saturday''s chapter, but I''ve got exactly as much ADHD as you probably think I do, and as we all know, that makes managing things like "the passage of time" kind of hard. Book 2 (published) of The Daily Grind is coming out soon, which means the rest of Book 1 (RoyalRoad version) will be coming down. That''s everything up to chapter 74, for anyone curious. If you''re in the middle of reading it, I''m sorry I didn''t give you more time, but drop on by the discord server and say hi over the next few days, and we''ll see if we can work something out. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Thanks to everyone who''s made this possible. Stressful as the process is, it''s really cool to be able to transform this weird project into something that I can actually hold as a physical object, and all of your comments and reviews and stuff have helped me get here. You''ve been a great audience, and I hope to have more stories for you into the future, both in The Daily Grind and whatever else comes up. Chapter 237 ¡°I¡¯m sorry if you can¡¯t tell if I¡¯m making fun of Carl Andre or not. He would have wanted it this way. -Patrica Taxxon, The Kunst Saga | How the Right Wing Views Modern Art- _____ There was something surreal about Alanna¡¯s life. Okay, that was unfair. There were a lot of surreal things in her life, but most of them were becoming increasingly common, and more understandable. Dungeons were challenging, but not instantly lethal. Magic items had their own sets of weird quirks and logic. Teleporting everywhere was just how life was now. Her boyfriend had seven boyfriends. Normal stuff. Alanna had never really been someone who got afraid that often. She was afraid for other people; especially her sisters when she had to leave them at home with her mother. Especially James or Anesh, when they went delving. But never herself. She wasn¡¯t afraid to get in fights, or get her hands dirty, or talk to people, or just live the way she wanted. James called her an emotional bulldozer sometimes, and she thought that was funny, but Alanna did feel things. She just loved the experience of being kinda nervous and doing something anyway. Of crushing her own fear and plowing forward. The dungeons making her stronger and stronger over time had just amplified that. She wanted to delve deeper, and out in the mundane world she wanted to fling her newfound abilities into whatever systems she could. Knowing that she wasn¡¯t invincible didn¡¯t stop Alanna from feeling like she could take on the world. Which was why it was weird that she was a fidgeting and anxious mess, sitting in a brightly lit, cold, and kinda dirty cafe in the weird part of Bonney Lake, Washington. Okay, that wasn¡¯t fair. Alanna hadn¡¯t been to this city before; any part could be the weird part. But this part wasn¡¯t doing a great job of making her feel comfortable. The whole area seemed like one of those all-devouring upper middle class suburbs, which made it actively strange that the cafe sucked. Maybe it was because the only people who would work here were demotivated kids who were trapped here. Mentally complaining about the cafe bought her a little time not worrying about what she was actually here for. And it was just enough time for the person she was waiting for to arrive. Two women walked in, the bell over the slightly stuck door making more of a clatter than a jingle. One of them was someone Alanna had worked with for a while; mainly she was a case manager for Recovery, but she tagged into Response activities when they needed someone who had experience as a counselor. A few orbs here and there added up to someone who was exceptionally good with her words, and had a deep loyalty to the people who had saved her life. The younger woman she was bringing in was, by Alanna¡¯s count, barely eighteen. She was still taller than the Recovery agent, though with a lanky frame and an awkward way of moving like she would never get used to how she¡¯d grown. Dark blonde hair, eyes that were also the same color as Alanna¡¯s, she was wearing a thick purple hoodie with her hands pulled up into the sleeves. Alanna practically felt her heart stop as the older woman pointed out her table, and then patted the teen on the back while she went to get a biscotti. Briefly, she wondered if doing this alone had been the right call. All of her partners had offered to come, and so had half her friends or Response teammates. But Alanna had still come alone, feeling like it was meaningful somehow. Now she was just panicking. The girl looked almost as nervous as Alanna felt, but she still walked over, standing by the table like she wasn¡¯t sure if she was in the right place. ¡°Uh¡­ hi?¡± She ventured. ¡°Hey Erin.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice cracked as she greeted her sister. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± The girl practically crumbled at Alanna¡¯s words. ¡°You do know me.¡± She said, trembling. Some part of Alanna¡¯s brain, the part that stored her sarcasm and snark alongside her unwillingness to let nervousness stop her, kicked in. ¡°Well, okay, to be fair, Cathy could have just told me.¡± She pointed over at the woman who had led Erin in. Her sister¡¯s face dropped into a kicked puppy look that instantly had Alanan regretting saying anything. ¡°But also that didn¡¯t happen. Yeah, I know you. Do you wanna¡­ ¡° She gestured to the empty chair on the other side of the small table. Erin scrambled to sit, setting her hands on the lacquered surface of the table, leg tapping wildly. ¡°I¡­ can I ask something?¡± She started nervously. ¡°Oh, please, go for it.¡± Alanna felt a wave of relief. ¡°I have no idea how to do this, so just¡­ hit me. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Are¡­ you do know me, right?¡± Alanna nodded in response and the girl continued. ¡°Were you my sister? Did you live with us? Or¡­ or¡­ are you my actual mom? I just¡­ I¡­¡± Erin trailed off. Alanna held up a hand, then brought it around to her mouth to cover the gawking look she was sporting. ¡°Okay,¡± she said, trying not to laugh, ¡°I¡¯m really sorry, but ow, no, I am not your secret mom. Do I look that old? Wait, no don¡¯t answer that!¡± She let out a long sigh, the humor in her words getting a tiny smile out of her nervous looking sister. ¡°To answer the other question, yes. I am your sister. I did live with you when you were younger.¡± ¡°Why did you leave?¡± Erin asked, abruptly cutting Alanna off. ¡°Was it mom? Because fuck her.¡± She balled up her hands inside her sleeves, and Alanna didn¡¯t miss that her sister nervously flicked her eyes toward the door to make sure that their mother wasn¡¯t actually present. ¡°I hate her.¡± She whispered, staring down at the table. ¡°I hear ya.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°But no, actually, I didn¡¯t leave. You guys did.¡± She pressed her fingertips together. ¡°Hell, what I¡¯m about to say sounds so fuckin¡¯ stupid. How does James enjoy this?¡± She muttered to herself. ¡°Okay. When did you move to Washington?¡± ¡°I guess¡­ a couple years? I don¡¯t remember much about it, but changing schools was fine.¡± Erin said. ¡°Not like I had friends before.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s about the last time I saw you.¡± Alanna said. ¡°And you probably did have friends. Not that most of them will remember you.¡± ¡°What? What are you talking about?¡± The teenager gave Alanna a confused and slightly annoyed look. Alanna nodded understandingly. ¡°Alright, here goes. Get on the train to stupid town. Two years ago, an organization moved you guys away and did something to wipe me from your memory, as well as fuzz the memories of you in anyone who knew you previously. They did this to the families of their victims, so there would be fewer questions about the missing people.¡± ¡°No, stop.¡± Erin pushed her chair back. ¡°Sorry!¡± Alanna shrugged, face set in an expression that tried to convey a ¡®whatcha gonna do?¡¯ sort of attitude. ¡°It sucks! I haven¡¯t known what happened to you or Rae the whole time. It¡¯s just random damn chance someone I know saw your post, and that you had seen me on a video. And I know it sounds dumb, but you did, to be fair, watch me teleport. So you know magic is real at least.¡± ¡°No, no. No it¡¯s¡­ special effects.¡± Erin shook her head, looking at Alanna like she was insane. ¡°Why are you doing this? Are you fucking with me for fun?¡± Alanna¡¯s sister ramped up her anger rapidly. Alanna shrugged, poking at the cardboard cup on the table, half full of mediocre cold coffee. ¡°I just¡­ wanted to make sure you were okay.¡± She said. ¡°And to offer to take you and Rae in, if you want to get away. You just aged up, you might be thinking of moving out. Or not, so you can keep Rae safe. Either one makes sense. You¡¯re my¡­ you¡¯re my sister.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice shook. ¡°All the weird shit in my life doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t wanna take care of you.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re saying really stupid stuff.¡± Erin said, in that nakedly hostile way that teenagers fell into so easily. ¡°You sound like a psycho!¡± ¡°And yet.¡± Alanna held out her hands, palms up. ¡°You recognize me. You don¡¯t remember moving. Also, I guess we can skip to the fun part, and I can just offer to show you actual literal magic.¡± She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly as her enhanced empathy instantly caught onto how Erin latched onto those words. ¡°Shoulda led with that. I really should have asked James for advice on this.¡± ¡°Is James my secret brother or something?¡± Erin asked. ¡°How much other dumb shit is there left to go?¡± Alanna could tell she was curious, but also angry. Not at Alanna exactly, just in general, and that anger was driving her anxiety back. ¡°You just show up, and¡­ and¡­¡± Alanna pulled her hand back from the yellow orb she¡¯d set on the table. It was glowing lightly, a soft golden light that was mostly washed out by the cafe¡¯s poor choice in lightbulbs, but still something. She raised her eyes up to her sister. ¡°I¡¯ve got worlds to show you.¡± Alanna said. ¡°You and Rae annoyed the shit out of me, and you¡¯re the worst younger sisters I¡¯ve ever had, and I feel like I lost my fucking childhood screening for you guys against mom, but you¡¯re also the best younger sisters I¡¯ve ever had, and I love you two. And I should have done this before it all went sideways.¡± She poked the orb, sending it rolling toward her sister. Erin reached for it on reflex, the sleeve of her hoodie clipping the magical bauble and sending it off the table at high speed. The teen swore, and snapped out a hand after it, and Alanna wanted to laugh as all the gravitas of the moment vanished in a puff of sparkling dust that vanished from the world as it streamed out of her sister¡¯s grasp. ¡°I¡¯m sor-!¡± Erin¡¯s panic, which Alanna felt as an almost palpable thing around the girl, vanished abruptly to be replaced by confusion. Confusion, with roots of something else digging into it; the growing feeling of realization, undeniable knowledge that Alanna wasn¡¯t full of shit, and all the accompanied knock-on epiphanies about the flawed understanding of reality. It crept in, ripping into the confusion and worry with something strange and wondrous and magical. Awe. ¡°What¡¯d you get?¡± Alanna asked quietly. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Erin pulled her sleeve back to look at her hand, and Alanna suppressed a scowl as she saw her sister¡¯s skin covered in small scars and a few open sores from where she¡¯d clawed at herself. ¡°Magic is real?¡± She looked up at her big sister, eyes wide. Alanna just nodded at her. ¡°It¡­ I know how to grow a teak tree. Why¡­?¡± ¡°Huh. That¡¯s the closest anyone¡¯s gotten to something useful on their first one.¡± Alanna disguised her smile by taking a sip of her coffee, and she pulled a grimace as she instantly regretted it. ¡°But yes. Magic is real.¡± She felt like she had so much to say, and didn¡¯t know where to start. ¡°I¡¯ve explored places that shouldn¡¯t be real, and I¡¯ve used so many of those I don¡¯t even know what all I know how to do anymore. I teleport to work, and half my friends aren¡¯t human, and one of the guys I¡¯m dating can clone himself, and I can plug my brain into the internet.¡± Alanna tried to think of what she was leaving out. ¡°I might be bulletproof.¡± She added as an afterthought. ¡°And I want to share it all with you. If¡­ if you want to come with me.¡± And all of a sudden, that fear was back again. Her younger sister gnawed at her lip, like she was trying to figure out where to attack that wall of exposition from. ¡°What about Rae?¡± She asked. ¡°We can take her too.¡± Alanna said. ¡°She doesn¡¯t even have to change schools. I¡¯m gonna keep saying teleporter until it sinks in.¡± She paused, thought about it, and then held up her index finger to her lips. ¡°Teleporter.¡± ¡°But mom¡­¡± Erin started to say, worry written across her soul. ¡°Isn¡¯t there gonna be paperwork, or something?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t fucking care.¡± Alanna stated. ¡°What¡¯s mom gonna do, call the police? Psh. But also, we have a lawyer we¡¯ve been working with that specializes in adoption and family law, so we can make it work.¡± ¡°Who are you?¡± Erin asked softly. ¡°Are you really my sister? Am I just going crazy? I feel like I¡¯m going crazy. And¡­ and¡­ wait! If you¡¯re telling the truth, that means there¡¯s someone out there who can just make me forget again!¡± As she said the words, Alanna could practically feel her sister¡¯s body tensing up. It was almost exactly the same thing James did when he was having a panic attack, interestingly. Alanna held out a hand, and took Erin¡¯s own balled fist through her sleeve. ¡°Hey.¡± She said comfortingly. ¡°It¡¯s fine. You don¡¯t have to worry about them.¡± ¡°Really?!¡± The word came out as half scream, half squeak. ¡°They made me forget you! And I¡¯m not supposed to worry?!¡± Erin was hyperventilating now. ¡°Really.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°They¡¯re gone. And I¡¯m not.¡± The calm words snapped her sister¡¯s panic short. ¡°¡­why are they gone?¡± ¡°Because I have more friends than they expected, and we had the element of surprise on our side.¡± Alanna answered. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of horrible shit in the world. And all of it¡¯s on our checklist.¡± ¡°Are you a fucking superhero?¡± Erin asked, as incredulous as a teenager could possibly be, which was really pretty deep into the emotion. ¡°That¡¯s stupid!¡± Alanna scoffed. ¡°Okay, hang on kid. I¡¯m not that much of a hero. And I¡¯m barely super.¡± ¡°You said you were bulletproof!¡± ¡°Probably.¡± ¡°That¡­. I don¡¯t¡­ what¡­¡± Erin was halfway between being a wide eyed confused mess, and just screaming and storming out. Alanna would have found it funny, if she didn¡¯t recognize how the constant exposure to a parent who lied to you all the time might have left her sister without a clear grasp on what was and wasn¡¯t real. So she decided to make it either better, or worse, depending on how things went. ¡°Hey, do you wanna come see our secret lair?¡± She asked with an earnest smile. ¡°You can meet a friend of mine, who is a two hundred pound snake made out of power cables.¡± ¡°Are you fucking serious?¡± Erin demanded. ¡°Yeah, his name is Smoke-And-Ember. A lot of the camracondas named themselves after things they found to be, like, emotionally impactful? They didn¡¯t have a lot of beauty in their lives when we rescued them. Anyway we solve crimes together. You¡¯ll like him.¡± Alanna pulled out her telepad, and shot Cathy a nod where the other woman was waiting at the counter. ¡°If you want to, obviously. You know. Just kinda throw you in the deep end, let you see everything I¡¯ve got.¡± Alanna wasn¡¯t sure if this was a great idea, and she was aware she was rambling a bit. ¡°Maybe meet one of the people I¡¯m dating, they¡¯re all cool. Or, like, Planner. Planner¡¯s a ghost octopus thing? I feel like I should be explaining so much, and I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing. I just wanna show you everything, and hope you¡¯ll like it, and then offer you a magic apartment in our basement. Magic is real. Did I say that? Christ, I need to apologize to James, this is impossible.¡± Erin stared at her, mouth open, for a good minute. Then she said something that hit Alanna a lot harder than she¡¯d been expecting from this conversation. ¡°Mom really fucked you up too, huh?¡± Her sister said quietly. ¡°Okay ow.¡± Alanna instantly replied, almost as a joke. And then, as the words sank in, she set the telepad down on the table and looked away from the younger girl. ¡°Ow.¡± She whispered. ¡°S-sorry¡­¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s cool.¡± Alanna waved off the apology. ¡°You aren¡¯t wrong. But whatever. I¡¯ve got some cool stuff in my life, I wanna share it, and now that we¡¯ve found you, I really want to make sure you and Rae are safe.¡± ¡°¡­okay.¡± Erin said suddenly, nodding. ¡°Okay. I¡­ I trust you. For some reason. You¡¯re barely familiar, and I don¡¯t remember you, but I trust you. Can we go pick her up before we go?¡± Alanna grinned widely, eyes sparkling. ¡°Sure! Gimmie the address.¡± She commanded, flipping the telepad page and starting a new line. ¡°And¡­ and thanks. You know, for remembering me at all.¡± Alanna said, staring at the page as she wrote. ¡°Not like it was a choice to forget, but¡­¡± She looked up and met Erin¡¯s eyes. ¡°A lot of people¡­ my boyfriend¡¯s family is just gone. No hint of them anywhere, they probably don¡¯t know he even existed. So thanks for remembering me. So we could find you.¡± She reached out a hand, and Erin looked at it warily before taking it. ¡°Is this gonna feel weird?¡± She asked. ¡°Yes!¡± Alanna cheerfully said, hauling her sister to her feet, and then tearing the telepad with her teeth. _____ There was something deeply odd about Anesh¡¯s life. He blamed James, mostly. If James hadn¡¯t been the kind of person who followed up on weird events that could easily have been exhaustion-induced hallucinations, then Anesh could have gone his whole time in the country without being attacked by a single piece of furniture. As it was, he was starting to wonder what he was going to do, in regards to being in the country. On a functional level, it didn¡¯t matter; customs and immigration was for people who couldn¡¯t teleport. But he wasn¡¯t a student anymore, and he was in the process of quitting his job at NASA, and so he didn¡¯t have much left that would convince the US government to let him stay. The thought chaffed. Anesh felt like he¡¯d been through so much wankery on this continent that they should give him an apology and a commemorative plaque, not a ticket ¡®home¡¯. He¡¯d saved at least a few lives, that had to be worth a medal or something. It was a pretty direct way of getting him on board with James¡¯ whole ¡®borders are stupid¡¯ idea. But it still worked. That wasn¡¯t the surreal part though. The surreal part was that he wasn¡¯t taking classes anymore. It had been a trick to do it all while he was still doing stuff with the Order, but he had a trick. Being a few people who shared memories and had excellent reading retention had let Anesh continue to climb his way through progressively more questionably useful forms of maths. But now, he was¡­ done. No more classes. And what was he going to do, as one of the most skilled people in his field in the world? Well, his original plan had been to go into space travel. It was something of a childhood fantasy that had grown up with him; Anesh didn¡¯t want warp drives and laser turrets, he wanted to colonize Mars and mine the asteroid belt. But it had all been very abstract, right up until a government organization hired him to help them design space probes. This was where it really got surreal. Because working on his dream job had gotten somewhat less satisfying when it hadn¡¯t involved magic. James had infected his life with the strange, and Anesh loved it, and he hated James for that. But also he loved James, so it was a deeply conflicted time for him. He said as much to Reed, and got a blank stare in return before Reed just told him that if he really wanted to play with space travel, he should spend more time in Research. So Anesh, unshackled from a lot of his previous responsibilities, started doing exactly that. The Research division of the Order of Endless Rooms was, Anesh realized, a messy and chaotic nightmare. Like his boyfriend, he¡¯d fallen into the apparently incorrect habit of thinking of them as a group of professionals, who did careful tests, and then wrote reports about the results that the Order could make use of. The reality of the happenings in their basement levels was far from that calm idea of generic science. Humans, camracondas, infomorphs, and engineers spent their time here, a lot of them with their own personal projects and weird ideas stacked on top of things resembling job duties. One of the first people Anesh had talked to just to get directions, a younger man named John, was seemingly the lone person assigned to testing magical pens, but also had a secondary study going on the different types of yellow orb absorption effects, and also was one of the testers for the verified-safe potion brews. He was the most normal person down here. Tyrone, a human Anesh had honestly thought had died he hadn¡¯t seen him in so long, was working with an inhabitor and a camraconda trying to get the magical emerald computer chips to grow a protocol for cross-species skulljack hive minds that didn¡¯t cause migraines. Red and Nile, the pair of ex-Alchemists, argued loudly with Nik about repeating tests that had already proven lethal to lab rats. Watcher-Of-Birds took a break from setting up identification-strain iLipedes on a batch of Akashic Sewer lesson books to feed the pod of shellaxies their daily meal of bugs. One entire side room had been taken over by engineers that had lined the walls with white boards and the floor with roped off sections that held their current space elevator test models. Anesh stepped aside to let a delightfully excited looking ratroach that was shorter than even he was rush by, a small cloth bag held in every one of their four claws. That, more than anything, made him feel good. A lot of the people in the Order right now came from shitty places, but no one deserved to be having a good time more than the ratroaches. Another turn down a hall, the concrete walls around him feeling oddly welcoming despite the fact that he maybe should have felt claustrophobic here underground in a cramped stone tunnel. And then Anesh found where he was headed today. Pushing open the door on the corner of the four way intersection of basement halls, he stepped into a room that was about six times larger than it should have been if you judged it by what it looked like outside. ¡°Oh hey!¡± Momo greeted him with a wave from across the open space. ¡°You made it!¡± ¡°Despite your directions, yes.¡± Anesh said, entering the room full of lined up furniture and letting the door swing shut with a heavy clunk of the metal latch. ¡°Being fair, people keep adding to the basement.¡± The camraconda curled up on one of the couches said. ¡°Hello. I am Paper-And-Words.¡± ¡°Nice to meet you. I¡¯m Anesh.¡± He looked around for anyone else he didn¡¯t know yet. There was a dark skinned man about his age standing on the other side of the room and flicking his bright eyes between the clipboard he was holding and the inventory of the room itself. ¡°Hey Juan.¡± Anesh got a wave back at his words, but Juan didn¡¯t stop staring suspiciously at the furniture. There was a good chunk of furniture in here, too. The room, spatially expanded via orange totem probably, had three couches, eight dining chairs, one padded office chair, five lamps, a flimsy looking pale wood shelf, and a fancy looking oval oak table that was currently expanded to its full size of about twelve feet long. There was also a fake plant, which Anesh pointed at with raised eyebrows before making a judgment. ¡°Hm?¡± Momo followed his finger. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s Tyrannadonny. She¡¯s new, be nice.¡± ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t. That name. I can¡¯t even.¡± Anesh took a long breath. ¡°Why, Momo?¡± He asked. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m taking over James¡¯ role of just asking you ¡®why¡¯ all the time.¡± ¡°I did think that might be why you were down here!¡± Momo nodded vigorously, the crown of yellow number two pencils orbiting her head bobbing with her in perfect sync. ¡°Anyway, she liked the name so we went with it. Also, you might be interested, Tyrannadonny here is - don¡¯t give me that look! - she¡¯s the first living plant from here.¡± Anesh realized he might be being a bit of an asshole, so he let it go and turned to face the new Life, which apparently had been made here on Earth and not actually in any dungeon. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s cool. Pleasure to meet you.¡± He gave a short bow, and smiled as the broad plastic leaves mimicked it, a couple of the large buds opening to reveal felt red blossoms that tracked him like eyes. ¡°So, is this all the furniture?¡± He asked, moving on to what Momo had invited him here for. ¡°Yisss.¡± She said, flapping the black bathrobe she was wearing as she turned to look over the collection of random stuff. ¡°One butchered giant monster¡¯s worth of living room!¡± An Anesh had helped with part of that process. He was glad the stuff had been cleaned off before being put here for storage and testing; the slimy mess of the creature¡¯s insides wasn¡¯t exactly a pleasant smell. ¡°We should really figure out how to critically wound a dungeon.¡± He muttered. ¡°It¡¯s on the list!¡± Momo shoved her hands into her robe¡¯s pockets. ¡°I think we should just teleport chunks of the ocean into them until they give up!¡± ¡°That sounds¡­ uh¡­¡± Anesh didn¡¯t really have a good answer for that. Juan did. ¡°Every single person you tell that to tries really politely to not call you a dumbass for saying it.¡± He glanced over at her from his clipboard with a look that said he¡¯d seen this conversation repeatedly. ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking that exactly, but yes.¡± Anesh agreed. ¡°We need the ocean for things, probably. I dunno, I¡¯m not a marine biologist yet.¡± The best part of the magic, he recognized, was that ¡®yet¡¯ was a constant. He was going to be a marine biologist someday. He was going to learn so much, through the application of a lifestyle of dungeon nonsense. ¡°The beacon we left in there is still going, right?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Momo nodded. ¡°I¡¯m going back to join the search team later. Which is a lot of people, actually; it¡¯s why Research is so empty today. Oh, it¡¯s just in Missouri now, whatever was in Japan is gone.¡± ¡°Ominous. Also empty?¡± Anesh looked back at the door to the rest of the labyrinthine laboratory. The plant - Tyrannadonny, he supposed he should get used to her actual name - rustled at him in agreement. Juan nodded along and hummed softly, like he somehow understood something that Anesh hadn¡¯t picked up. Anesh moved on. ¡°Well, since we can¡¯t kill it yet, at least we can loot it. What does any of this do though?¡± ¡°We know very little.¡± Paper-And-Words said, the digital voice of the newer camraconda to join the Order still somewhat unpracticed, flat and bored sounding words undercut by the excitement in their body language. ¡°All iLipede results come back as¡­ useless.¡± Momo made a noise of mild disagreement. ¡°Not useless. They tell us the things are magic, just because they take way too long to scan them. But yeah, they mostly give weird statistics. Like, ¡®couch, three cushions, eight causality violations¡¯. It¡¯s kind of a headache. Juan has the list if you wanna check it out.¡± Circling around the band of clear space on the outside of the grid of furniture, Juan approached Anesh and held out the clipboard to him. ¡°Momo¡¯s lying again. None of them violated causality. Though that lamp¡­ third one in, there¡­ that¡¯s the one that ¡®saved one life¡¯. So that¡¯s weird and unexplained. Oh, also, none of it¡¯s alive. We checked.¡± ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought to check.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡°I kind of assumed¡­ inanimate.¡± ¡°A totally unreasonable assumption in this building.¡± Paper-And-Words said, stretching out on the couch so that their tail poked a bare inch over the cushioned arm. Anesh didn¡¯t disagree, he should be better about that. ¡°So, what does the couch you¡¯re on do?¡± He asked as he scanned the notes and found there wasn¡¯t anything about it. ¡°It is comfortable.¡± The camraconda replied. Momo sighed. ¡°I tried to tell him not to do that.¡± She said. ¡°But, like¡­ it¡¯s magic, it doesn¡¯t set off any of our warnings, it doesn¡¯t seem like a trap? I had Speaky take a look at it, and she didn¡¯t say it was harmful or anything. So we¡¯re kinda down to the sort of testing we do with pens.¡± ¡°Get John to do it?¡± Anesh asked. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Hm?¡± Juan looked up; he¡¯d stolen the clipboard back at some point and had returned to flicking his eyes between it and the floor. He wasn¡¯t paying full attention. ¡°No, John.¡± Anesh said. ¡°The kid who¡­ you work here, you know.¡± ¡°Oh. Yeah. And yeah also, nothing to do but use it until it becomes clear.¡± Juan shrugged. Anesh knew that feeling. He¡¯d encountered a lot of weird magic when he and James had gone delving that just¡­ didn¡¯t do anything obvious or even useful. Not everything could be a clearly helpful as the Lunchbox of Holding Lunch, or the plant pot that had become the backbone for their potion creation operations. So he got down to helping the others slowly and methodically test each piece of furniture. It wasn¡¯t exactly exciting; sitting in a chair for half an hour and recording how you felt afterward didn¡¯t really make him feel like he was being useful. But as far as they knew about the Stratified Underburbs, there were two things magic items were good for. Being magic, or breaking to make skill crystals. And while the skill crystals sounded like one of the more useful things the Order had come across, they didn¡¯t want to break something without knowing what it did first. This was the real surreal part. Not that the furniture was magic, but that they knew it was magic, and that it was boring anyway. Trying to figure out if a couch let you breathe fire or a chair made your eyesight better or something was just a process of trying a list of ideas over and over again, making tedious notes, and getting basically nowhere. Anesh often tried to build mathematical models of how different magics worked; he¡¯d tried with the red totems and still had arguments with Momo about it. But math was at least an engaging way for him to view the world. This wasn¡¯t even that. It was just a lot of nothing happening to verify that the thing happening was nothing. At least, right up until the moment something happened. Two hours later, he and the others were sitting on the sidelines staring at the one lamp that was on when Anesh suddenly felt like something clicked in his head. ¡°You know¡­¡± he started to say. ¡°¡­it seems likely that any effects of furniture would be tied to its use as furniture¡­¡± Juan continued, turning his eyes toward Anesh with a look of confused surprise. ¡°¡­which would imply that long term use, or use over time, is optimal¡­¡± Paper-And-Words kept staring at the lamp, perhaps not realizing they were adding onto the others. ¡°¡­so they probably work on rooms, not people. Fuck.¡± Momo finished, snapping her head around at the others. ¡°What the fuck was that?!¡± Anesh felt his brain racing to catch up, aided by one of the earlier yellow orb skills he¡¯d gotten and a few years of dealing with this kind of thing. ¡°That was us.¡± He said as connections formed almost unbidden. ¡°That was a few bits of ideas from each of us, slapped together, into a coherent thought.¡± He pointed at the standing lamp still lit up off on the side of the furniture grid. ¡°Abstract illumination. Guiding us to a unified conclusion. And isn¡¯t that just a bit mad?¡± He let out a nervous laugh. ¡°Now, the obvious question¡­¡± Paper-And-Words raised his body up, titling their sleek camera head sideways ninety degrees like he could somehow understand the magic if he could get a better angle on it. ¡°Is the conclusion correct?¡± ¡°That, and how often does that happen?¡± Momo asked, stepping forward like she was considering stabbing the lamp. Anesh almost thought it was funny, until he saw the ring of floating pencils around her head lined up like a spiked crown and angled at the lamp. ¡°I don¡¯t like this one.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Anesh asked, surprised. ¡°You don¡¯t want to, say, stick this in the middle of the Research chaosium?¡± ¡°The what?¡± Momo¡¯s nervous anger dropped away briefly as she eyed Anesh. He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, whatever you all call the central part of this floor where everyone has a kind of ongoing disorganized mess of projects going on.¡± ¡°Oh. Yeah, I guess you could call it that. It¡¯s really not that bad.¡± She defended her loosely affiliated team. ¡°I¡¯m just not into stuff that can mess with my head.¡± ¡°Same.¡± Juan added. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna veto your distaste.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Sorry, but we should at least see if this one gets us to correct information. That¡¯s far too valuable to pass up.¡± He got a grudging nod from Momo, though the other human in the room seemed distracted again. ¡° Also, Juan, are you looking for the eighth chair?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± The man yelled abruptly. ¡°How do you know that?!¡± He barked out with obvious frustration. Anesh bobbed his fingers along the grid where they¡¯d put the furniture. ¡°You¡¯re missing a spot there, and it matches the missing line on your list there. Antimeme chair. I vote for breaking that one.¡± ¡°Sold!¡± Momo said, hoisting a crowbar seemingly from nowhere as next to her, Paper-And-Words rose up from the floor with a hammer clutched in his mouth. ¡°That thing¡¯s been pissing me off every time I remember it and then forget it again!¡± ¡°Why is an antimeme chair considered a safe magic item, anyway?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Why was it a reward?¡± ¡°Maybe it stacks the effect to anyone who sits in it? Also it could be not a reward at all, the thing was just growing magic chairs in its ass. It could have been making traps for all we know.¡± Juan asked as he grabbed the chair none of them had looked at for the last hour and dragged it off to the side for its upcoming execution. ¡°Or maybe the room itself, if the lamp is¡­ we should turn off the lamp.¡± Anesh turned off the lamp. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any different.¡± He said. ¡°Maybe it doesn¡¯t actually matter if it¡¯s on? Maybe it¡¯s something else doing that.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re asking, and we aren¡¯t all making some conclusion, that probably means it¡¯s not working.¡± Juan offered. ¡°You sure we should keep that one?¡± ¡°Positive.¡± Anesh said, already planning out a series of double blind tests with different groups to figure out how effective it might be. By the end of the day, they were left with three skill crystals from the furniture that really hadn¡¯t worked out. The trouble was, they didn¡¯t know what the furniture they couldn¡¯t identify did. So they didn¡¯t break it yet. Instead, moving to another room to investigate the skill crystals and talk about a plan for using them. ¡°The biggest problem with these things is that we need to engage with the fucking Underburbs to get points for them.¡± Momo said, poking one of the pointy rocks sitting on the table amidst the takeout they¡¯d had for dinner. ¡°Most people have two, camracondas don¡¯t have any, and James has, like, fifty. And aside from reinfecting people with the arm hole fever nightmare disease, we don¡¯t have a way to get more?¡± ¡°Please tell me we don¡¯t have a way to reinfect people.¡± Anesh jolted to alert status. ¡°Because I have a problem with that. We should all have a problem with that.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the people who are still carriers.¡± Momo said. ¡°Deb¡¯s keeping them under isolation, but they¡¯re still contagious. I think? We should check with her.¡± ¡°Done.¡± Juan said, staring into nothing as he accessed the local network through his skulljack. ¡°It¡¯s airborne and spreads aggressively through contact, and according to the current information packet she has posted, the carriers won¡¯t start processing it at all until they infect someone else.¡± He blinked and looked back at them, running a finger down the sharp line of his nose. ¡°Maybe we can loop carriers.¡± ¡°No.¡± Anesh said, cutting that off. ¡°I mean, yes, that might work. But no we¡¯re not doing that. We¡¯ll go delving in hazmat suits like sane people.¡± ¡°What about me?¡± Paper-And-Words asked, bland digital voice mixing with nervous swaying and a flicking tongue. ¡°I want skill points.¡± Anesh barely stopped himself from reflexively petting the camraconda¡¯s head like he was a dog. ¡°James said you can still get points from other methods. We¡¯ll work it out. For now, how do we test these things?¡± He poked a skill crystal. ¡°Just pick one each and go from there?¡± Surprisingly, Momo had a comprehensive answer that Anesh honestly hadn¡¯t expected from the girl. He had to remind himself that while she came across as flighty and, as his boyfriend put it, ¡®maximum gremlin¡¯, she was actually sharp when she wanted to be. ¡°We need to test multiple things. Not just what each one gives, but also, side uses. Can two people split the cost? Does the cost escalate with use? Do they wear out? Can we infuse them to make magic items like we do with blue orbs? Actually, on that note, can we make magic items with just skill points? We should be testing these across multiple crystals, too. According to James, the one we already have¡­¡± She held up the one that had duct tape around it and a written label. ¡°Takes three points, which none of us have. If they all take that, we¡¯re mildly screwed. We could hold off on it, or we can get James and Zhu to be our test cases since they have more.¡± ¡°We should try them anyway.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Because the worst case is that we¡¯re down two points of something that we plan on securing a supply of later anyway. And the best case is that we figure out what each of these are.¡± ¡°Hold up. Zhu has skill points?¡± Juan asked. ¡°I remember Planner got infected, but I hadn¡¯t¡­ put that together. Also, I¡¯ll take this one.¡± He picked up a crystal, showed the numbered label on it to Momo, and focused for a second. ¡°Oh. Uh. Two points in, and I got a skill rank in construction comma carpentry comma screw driving.¡± Anesh took the notes away from Momo and replaced what she¡¯d written with a much cleaner line of the same text. The girl¡¯s handwriting was a nightmare. Then he took the crystal from Juan. ¡°Okay, well, I hate this, but I want to make sure¡­¡± He closed his eyes, and focused on the skill points he knew he had. Tried to shove them out into the crystal. The process was surprisingly easy; there wasn¡¯t a lot of mental gymnastics like getting the Office orbs to do anything they didn¡¯t want to. A second later, he got a familiar and alien thought. [+1 Skill Rank : Construction - Carpentry - Screw Driving] ¡°Exactly the same. Also dash not comma.¡± ¡°I will not have this argument with you.¡± Juan flatly stated, picking a cold fry out of their leftovers. ¡°Momo?¡± ¡°Oh, fine, I¡¯ll try this one.¡± She said. ¡°Sorry you¡¯re missing out, by the way, Papers.¡± The camraconda didn¡¯t know how to make their voice contain the mildly sarcastic infliction they wanted, but it didn¡¯t really matter. It came across as they spoke. ¡°I think I will survive being unable to screw wood.¡± He said, arcing his head from side to side. ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± Momo shrugged, and blinked as she poured her own skill points into the crystal she¡¯d chosen. ¡°Nada. Welp. Number two here takes more than I had. Oh! Remind me to come back to this later, we¡¯ll see if they save over time.¡± ¡°Or we could get James, or anyone else really, to try it out and see if we can ¡®share¡¯ points this way.¡± Paper-And-Words offered. ¡°Now that we know that crystals repeat the same useless skills.¡± ¡°Getting James to test these might be hard.¡± Momo spoke partly to herself. ¡°He¡¯s got that whole thing about not taking magic powers for himself.¡± Anesh shot a small smile at her. ¡°I know what you mean, but I think this one will be easier. He¡¯s already got the skill points, and Zhu at least would be excited to try. Also, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve talked to him since he got back¡­¡± he met her eyes, and saw that Momo hadn¡¯t. ¡°Well. He¡¯s being more practical about his paladin title.¡± Anesh said. ¡°So this should be easy to get him on board with.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering about that.¡± Juan said. ¡°We¡¯re not religious, right?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not.¡± Momo said instantly, like the words triggered some kind of automated system in her mouth. Paper-And-Words tilted their head back to stare at the ceiling. ¡°I do not know what religions are and no one will give me a real answer.¡± They said. ¡°I tried asking the internet. It did not work either.¡± Anesh shared a pained look with the humans in the room. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­¡± He didn¡¯t even know what to say to that. So he just tried to move past it. ¡°So!¡± His voice came out strained. ¡°The paladin thing is like the fantasy version, not the¡­ Catholic one? There¡¯s a thing in the guidebook about it. It¡¯s not religious, it just means that James¡¯ official job is helping people and being a hero, and he¡¯s actually starting to take it seriously.¡± ¡°Did he not before?¡± Momo rolled her eyes. ¡°Okay, wait, hang on. I¡¯ve met James.¡± Juan idly poked at one of the pencils around Momo as it floated past him, sending it spinning. ¡°I can see him doing that.¡± ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s a bit dumb. But I still love him.¡± Anesh glanced toward the door. ¡°Anyway. Should we go find him and use his skill points for our own knowledge?¡± ¡°Yes. Also bring the lamp.¡± Momo said, standing up aggressively enough to send her chair sliding backward. Juan rose more like a regular human did and silently replaced the dismissed piece of seating like this was a normal thing that happened. ¡°If we¡¯re keeping it, let¡¯s keep it away from where I do my work. I¡¯m still suspicious of that thing.¡± She¡¯d voiced that repeatedly during their testing, and took the opportunity to do so again. Anesh didn¡¯t even bother to sigh. He just went to find a hand cart, and call his boyfriend. _____ El¡¯s life had been pretty good lately. A bit weird though. Route Horizon stretched out ahead of her; the biggest challenge of the dungeon being mile after mile of blazing hot desert and the risk of running out of gas. Her car thrummed under her, every rumble of the engine and turn of the tires a feeling she was sharply familiar with. She knew her car. She didn¡¯t know the road, exactly, but they weren¡¯t anywhere near one of the tangled knots of interchange onramps, and there also wasn¡¯t anything this close to the entrance that had a hope in hell of catching her. She missed this place. Didn¡¯t have as many chances to come back here these days, with how busy she was running one of the youth groups and surviving the wizard plague James had express mailed into the Lair. But now she¡¯d taken a chance to spend a little time here, and also solve one of the problems her role as a responsible adult had given her. ¡°This place has two suns!¡± Morgan had his head stuck out the window, staring up at the sky. El had made sure to give the kid sunglasses for exactly this reason, but it probably still wasn¡¯t a great idea. ¡°This is so cool! I mean¡­ uh¡­¡± It was really hard to keep up a grumpy teenager attitude when faced with a dungeon that was, in El¡¯s own opinion, so cool. It was just the two of them in the car, with the kid occupying her passenger seat. El knew she¡¯d probably catch hell for it later, but honestly, some people had a really warped view of this place and how dangerous it was. As long as you didn¡¯t try to full-clear the parking structures, stayed away from the mountains, and used the shadows of the gas stations to your advantage, it was pretty safe. She¡¯d gotten through a bunch of trips in here without ever getting in a single fight. Basically, what El was saying, was that it wasn¡¯t her fault that James pissed off every living thing within a ten mile radius of himself. What she was saying out loud was less disparaging. ¡°It¡¯s pretty sweet, yeah.¡± Her voice rose to speak over the engine and the rush of hot air through her windows. El hadn¡¯t put the top down; she wasn¡¯t that reckless. But it would have been a great day for it, especially since her car had a new setting for the AC that was basically a force field. Messed with the transmission though, she was still working on it. ¡°Check that out!¡± Her call caught Morgan¡¯s attention, and he followed El¡¯s pointed finger through the windshield toward the sky. Overhead, a security condor drifted on the thermals. It was hard to see from down here at this angle, but the bird was both massive, and a blatant disregard for the rules of biology. What looked like a tiny blot of color against the pure blue sky was actually a six, maybe eight foot wide set of wings, with any number of articulated security cameras in place of a head. Like a hydra, only somehow probably less aerodynamic. It wasn¡¯t watching them. Sometimes they did, which could be a problem. El didn¡¯t actually know what the things did, but they had some kind of sight-based attack that screwed with her perception of the world around her. It had never gotten her to crash, but it had messed her up a few times in the past. Fortunately the big vultures didn¡¯t seem to care about people who were just out on the open road. ¡°Woah.¡± Morgan said as he leaned over the dash to look upward. A glint of light off the creature made him blink. ¡°It¡¯s metal?¡± He asked. ¡°It¡¯s got camera heads.¡± El said. ¡°Kinda familiar, in a weird way.¡± ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± Morgan shot a glance at her, then looked back away, keeping his eyes on anything except El. El kept her eyes on the road. Unlike most movie protagonists, she couldn¡¯t drive if she wasn¡¯t watching the highway, whether or not it was on Earth. ¡°I¡¯m not baiting you, Morgan.¡± She rolled her eyes anyway. ¡°It¡¯s actually just weird and interesting that we¡¯ve got camracondas, and the security condors.¡± She put emphasis on the word that half the Order seemed to have an addiction to. ¡°Not camracondors?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°Or¡­ uh¡­ camcondors?¡± ¡°You¡¯re way too young to know what a camcorder is.¡± El snorted. She was too young, and she was twenty six. The most contact she¡¯d ever had with one of those was, she was pretty sure, breaking one when she was three years old. ¡°Also camraconda works because of the anaconda pun. Condor doesn¡¯t have the same¡­ uh¡­ up-down-up-down thing.¡± ¡°Cadence.¡± Morgan supplied, the teenager leaping at the opportunity to show how smart he was. El hid a smile. ¡°Yeah, that. So security condor, because it plays off security cordon. And because condor is just a really fun word on its own that we don¡¯t use enough, since humanity has decided to wipe out all wildlife or some shit.¡± She flicked her eyes across the horizon as they passed an arch of street signs that reached halfway over the road, making sure she hadn¡¯t just tripped an ambush. ¡°But yeah. I¡¯m not trying to trick you into talking.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Morgan said eventually, slouching back into the chair. His body language was guarded, but at least, El reasoned, he hadn¡¯t crossed his arms and folded up like her apparent girlfriend did when challenged on her choice of dress. El shook that off. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m just gonna ask you directly about it in a minute here. Unless you wanna start that conversation now?¡± ¡°God dammit.¡± Morgan swore badly. The kind of teenager swearing where he¡¯d learned that the words were curse words, and so was self conscious saying them out loud, especially around one of the designated adults in his life. ¡°Do we have to?¡± ¡°Pff. No.¡± El shrugged. ¡°We can just hang out for a while, maybe go into one of the empty buildings where there¡¯s no threats to your life and poke around. See if we can find some kind of magic plant. I dunno. And then head back, and pretend everything¡¯s fine, and that you don¡¯t need help, and that every problem will go away if you ignore it long enough.¡± El had been taking lessons from the actual childcare specialists the Order had hired, as well as one of their therapists, and also just trying to learn on her own. But the academic knowledge didn¡¯t easily translate into her controlling her sarcastic nature. ¡°You suck.¡± Morgan grumbled. But there was no vitriol behind it, and El didn¡¯t take it personally. Just chuckled under her breath and kept driving. ¡°Fine.¡± Morgan said after the quiet stretched on. ¡°Fine?¡± ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll talk about it.¡± ¡°Alright!¡± El perked up. ¡°So, let¡¯s get a thing out of the way. You¡¯re not in trouble, okay?¡± Morgan gave her a nervous nod. ¡°Cause that would be stupid. This also isn¡¯t an interrogation or something. I¡¯m just¡­ here for you to talk to. Since you seem like you¡¯ve been having a hard time lately.¡± ¡°Why in here though?¡± Morgan sounded like he was trying to hide his curiosity. El fluidly moved the car across the open road in a long arc that dodged them around a pothole that had a fifty fifty chance of being a trap. ¡°Because the Horizon is cool, and it¡¯s away from everyone else, and also you need to get some sun.¡± ¡°But¡­ monsters?¡± He asked. ¡°Do you care?¡± El countered. Morgan thought about it, then shook his head. ¡°Exactly. So. What¡¯s going on? I¡¯ve got the broad strokes, but, like, fill me in.¡± Morgan started talking, and the whole thing made El fondly remember the time when she was his age and small problems felt like they encompassed a whole lifetime. Because, from that perspective, they did. One of the things that had been hard for her to learn was to get over the feeling of thinking that just because she¡¯d learned something or matured somehow, that everyone else had to have kept up with her. Morgan was barely seventeen, he barely knew how to express himself, and that showed in how El had to patch together the story through his nervous and often held-back explanation. So she did what she was learning how to do, and listened. The core of it, though, was simple. It just took him twenty minutes to explain, with a short break for them to park at a gas station and duck down as a dune bug rolled past a half mile out in the desert. ¡°So,¡± El said as they cowered below the windows, tracking the creature with a compact mirror as she spoke. ¡°What I¡¯m getting here is that you¡¯re in a love triangle, and it¡¯s bothering you that you¡¯ve become an anime trope.¡± ¡°No!¡± He hissed, as if worried the thing thousands of feet away could hear him. ¡°You fell for your two best friends and don¡¯t know what to do without making things weird and now you¡¯re acting like a panicked moron and everyone¡¯s noticed, meaning you crafted an elaborate self-fulfilling prophecy for yourself.¡± El snorted as she switched her mirror to her other hand and tried to work out the ache in her elbow. ¡°Also you did almost get in a fight with Brian. So.¡± ¡°You make it sound really stupid.¡± Morgan tried glaring at her, and then at the glovebox when he couldn¡¯t keep his neck at the right angle while hiding. ¡°Like, I know I¡¯m an idiot, okay? Happy?¡± El felt bad instantly. ¡°Oh, kid, no. Morgan. Hey. You¡¯re not an idiot.¡± El tried to make her voice sound sympathetic without being pitying. ¡°Or, well, you are, but you¡¯re an idiot in a way that¡¯s deeply human and perfectly normal.¡± She paused. ¡°I¡¯m not doing a good job at this.¡± El said with a sigh. ¡°Look, the point is, you didn¡¯t screw anything up beyond repair. People are just worried about you.¡± ¡°Yeah, because I¡¯m stupid.¡± Morgan snapped back. ¡°Because I can¡¯t even have normal friends without screwing it up.¡± ¡°Okay, first off, none of your friends are normal, fuck off.¡± El replied instantly, and felt vindicated when she got an unexpected smile from him. ¡°Also, remember what we talked about last week? About how we talk about ourselves?¡± Morgan sighed. ¡°Alright, fine. I¡¯m not stupid, I did something stupid.¡± He sounded annoyed about the distinction. El nodded. ¡°Right. So, how do you stop doing something stupid then? What¡¯s your plan of attack here? Because - oh, hold up.¡± She tipped the mirror slightly and caught sight of one of the security condors landing nearby. ¡°Hm.¡± El pulled the lever on the side of her chair, tipping it backward and letting her contort her arm around to grab the sawn off shotgun she kept under the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°That¡¯s probably fine. Anyway.¡± She ignored Morgan¡¯s wide eyed stare. ¡°Pretend this isn¡¯t a problem. So, what¡¯s your plan?¡± ¡°I¡­ uh¡­!¡± Morgan pressed himself farther down in his hiding spot. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you¡­ uh¡­?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s fine. It¡¯ll fly off in a second.¡± El said. ¡°The car¡¯s gone too. We¡¯re fine. Look, this place is honestly really peaceful if you don¡¯t fuck with it too much.¡± She rubbed at the side of her face, the cold skin of her hand blocking the burning suns for a moment of relief. ¡°Except the heat. That part sucks.¡± ¡°Better then the Mountain.¡± Morgan said. ¡°Oh, yeah, for sure.¡± El agreed with him eagerly. ¡°That place sucks, dude. But don¡¯t get sidetracked, you¡­ oh, see? Condor¡¯s gone. Easy.¡± She popped her chair back up. ¡°You gonna stay down there?¡± She looked over at Morgan still mostly on the cramped floor of her passenger side. He crawled his way back up as she slowly accelerated and pointed them back toward the gap between her and reality. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what a plan is supposed to do.¡± ¡°Oh, nothing. You have to actually do stuff.¡± El said as she drove. ¡°I know, it sucks, I hated learning this too.¡± She shook her head in mock pity as Morgan tried not to laugh. ¡°Look, what I¡¯m saying is, you tell me; if one of your friends had a crush on you, how would you want them to handle that?¡± ¡°I¡¯d¡­ want them to tell me?¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± ¡°But I can¡¯t just tell them!¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s weird, right? And¡­ then if one of them hates me, it ruins everything.¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± ¡°¡­but I¡¯m already ruining everything.¡± Morgan stared out his side window, propping his chin up on his arm as he braced himself against the frame of the car. ¡°Uh huh.¡± ¡°Um¡­ can I ask something?¡± He looked back over at El, and she nodded at him encouragingly. ¡°How do you deal with it?¡± ¡°With what, communication?¡± El asked. ¡°Not great, I won¡¯t lie. I¡¯m working on some shit, but I still don¡¯t talk as much as I should. Do you mean, like, romantically?¡± Morgan nodded at her, and El tried to stamp down the impulse to say that she thought her last girlfriend got eaten by the dungeon they were in, and that her current one was probably on track to a similar fate. ¡°Look. I don¡¯t know everything.¡± She rolled her eyes at the mock shocked look on the kid¡¯s face. ¡°Shut up. All I know is, everything in my life got better when everyone just started saying what they meant all the time, okay? And we can¡¯t force other people to do it, but if we¡¯re honest, and we¡¯re kind to other people being honest, we might get away with it. And it¡¯s so much fucking easier.¡± Morgan shrank down in his seat again. ¡°But it¡¯s scary.¡± ¡°Everything¡¯s scary.¡± El shrugged. ¡°Is that an excuse?¡± ¡°¡­I should talk to Color-Of-Dawn and Liz, huh?¡± The teenager said as El took them through a merge with another strip of highway that flowed like a river, and began to look for the last turn that would return them to Earth. ¡°I¡­ I should apologize to Brian too.¡± El shrugged. ¡°Is that your plan?¡± She asked. ¡°Work it out, either to me or in your head, first. Just remember, kid; you and your friends have all survived more shit than most people ever encounter, and all of you combined are barely my age. You think it¡¯s weird that you wanna date a camraconda? You nearly got eaten by an aggressive piece of terrain once, your love life isn¡¯t weird. What¡¯s weird is that you¡¯re a teenager who¡¯s considering the value of an apology to the dude you tried to hit with a chair. That¡¯s cool, though. No joke.¡± As the car punched back through the membrane between worlds, Morgan added one more thing. ¡°Thanks.¡± He said. ¡°For¡­ I dunno, caring. I know everyone at the Lair does care. But¡­ I¡¯m not used to it? Thanks. And also you swear more than most teachers. That¡¯s weird.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a teacher.¡± El laughed at the words in an incredulous protest. ¡°Uh huh.¡± ____ Arrush wondered if his life was strange. As he sank into the warm waters of the pool in the Lair¡¯s basement, colored light dancing in wobbling geometric shapes off the surface and illuminating the copper designs in the pipes overhead, he spared a moment to remember that this was very far from what he had been created for. Humans weren¡¯t created for anything. Arrush was though. And this wasn¡¯t it. Across from him, Bill, the human that he had been helping move drywall all day, dropped into the water like an unwieldy projectile. The broad man had more fur than Arrush did, but still wore one of the modesty towels that a lot of people still preferred. Well, a lot of the humans. Arrush wasn¡¯t sure if that was strange either. He wasn¡¯t ignorant of broader human culture. He knew this public bath was an oddity, though as the warm water soaked into his multitudinous joints and slightly eased the pain that never really went away, he decided he didn¡¯t care. He knew that nudity was a human taboo, but the more everyone here treated the shared baths as normal, the less it mattered to anyone, as evidenced by Bill catching his wife as she jumped in after him. The two humans laughed as Arrush sunk himself down farther in the pool until only half his eyes and antenna were above the water. The two humans were older; a distinction that he still didn¡¯t fully understand. Both of them were upgraded with enough purple orbs now that they seemed¡­ normal? Arrush didn¡¯t know what it meant to be normal. He understood, in the abstract, the concept of aging, and of death from old age. As far as anyone could tell, that was what had happened to the iLipede he¡¯d adopted from Officium Mundi. And it was sad, but more than that, it didn¡¯t feel as normal as the humans all said it was. It felt wrong. It felt like him. Ugly, and violent, and created with the intent to harm. Bill and Marcey didn¡¯t seem to be harmed by having aged. Which was nice. Arrush would ask Bill about it later, maybe. When they were working, and it didn¡¯t feel like he was intruding. A group of humans and camracondas moved past their pool, into one of the adjacent ones, before pulling the privacy screen halfway shut. Talking and laughing, spending time together here like it was a common occurrence for them. Which it probably was, but Arrush still wondered at it. He knew that the Order had other species before he and Keeka had arrived, but was it strange that they all got along so well? Or was it normal? What was the normal state for people, if it was so easy for a place like this to become comfortable? Arrush had so many questions about people, and never knew if he should be asking. He sighed, and then realized he was underwater and jerked upright, coughing and sputtering at the water he¡¯d just inhaled. ¡°You okay there?¡± Bill asked, concern written on the man¡¯s face. He pushed himself off his side of the pool and moved to help, but stopped short of thumping Arrush on the back. That barely worked for humans, and almost certainly would hurt the ratroach, no matter how big he was compared to the others. ¡°What should I do?¡± He flicked a worried look toward his wife. ¡°Am fine.¡± Arrush coughed out. ¡°Thank you.¡± He sank back down, finding a smooth spot to sit in the pool that didn¡¯t leave him partly underwater, while Bill tugged at his waterlogged beard like he was still worried. ¡°Really. Fine.¡± ¡°Alright, well, don¡¯t go drowning on me.¡± Bill said as he let himself float in the middle of the shared pool. ¡°You¡¯re my best helper.¡± Marcey slapped a wave of water at her husband. ¡°Don¡¯t say that!¡± She said, before shaking her head as Bill sputtered and flailed, turning to Arrush. ¡°He means he cares about you, and is glad you¡¯re alright.¡± She translated. Arrush nodded. He¡¯d gotten that impression from Bill, though it had taken some time for him to realize that some humans were much more obfuscated in their emotions than James and his closer friends were. He didn¡¯t know if that was normal either. But he didn¡¯t really care. It felt¡­ nice. It felt nice to be cared for. It was still such a new feeling. And it made him feel guilty and selfish for enjoying it at all, which his therapist had advised him to acknowledge, and reject. Arrush was allowed to be cared about, even if it was simply that some people would prefer that he be alive rather than dead. It was hard to explain to some humans how big of a deal that was for him, and the other rescues from the Sewer. Arrush took a breath, and took the feeling of not knowing what he should say, or do, or feel, and he sat that feeling aside. And then just let himself exist, sitting in warm water, comfortable, for a little while. He listened to Bill excitedly tell his wife about the new condo layout they were building, and also how they were going to pitch a new energy solution at the next meeting. He watched Marcey¡¯s small smiles at her husband¡¯s exuberance, and knew from overheard conversations that she hadn¡¯t seen it for a while before they¡¯d come here. He rapidly grabbed the purification brooch and tapped the water they were in when a line of corrosive drool dripped from his cracked muzzle into it. He also made a mental note to ask someone later if it was funny to see Bill¡¯s reaction when Alanna came by and asked if she could join them. Bill had turned a bright red, like he was about to detonate like some of the small Akashic Sewer fleshlings did sometimes, and said something about it being impolite. Marcey had shaken her husband by the arm, and pointed out that he was already sharing a pool with Arrush, who was also naked, which had led to Bill giving a long list of reasons that weren¡¯t reasons as to why that was different. Arrush didn¡¯t know what to make of it, but Marcey just kept her arms folded and a cross look on her face until her husband eventually gave in, and Alanna joined them. Alanna was as cheerful as she ever was; boisterous and enthusiastic, though she looked somewhat embarrassed as Marcey picked out a shampoo for her and started scrubbing at her hair. Arrush wondered what it felt like, to have someone else wash you. He made another mental note to ask Keeka later. He was good at making mental notes. For all that he was growing, and becoming more confident, he still¡­ didn¡¯t like talking, without consideration. He didn¡¯t know if that was unusual either. The minutes passed as the water went through a few cycles of purification, as Bill eventually composed himself enough to engage with Alanna¡¯s questions about orange totem use with some kind of perpetual motion machine, and as Arrush felt his hide start to become wrinkled from his time sitting in the water. It was pleasant, and the heat was comfortable, and he didn¡¯t really know what he had to contribute, or what he was doing. But most importantly, he just let himself be normal. His normal. Chapter 238 ¡°You know what Michael, I do have a answer for you. It would have been the answer to Jack Welch if someone had done it earlier in his career, but it could still be the answer to a lot of bastards. Legally I¡¯m not allowed to say it on air, but it rhymes with shmargeted smesmashinashon.¡± -Behind The Bastards, Jack Welch Is Why You Got Laid Off- _____ The Order of Endless Rooms had grown somewhat since they started. There were over two hundred new people involved now: hired humans, rescued camracondas and ratroaches, incepted infomorphs, and refugee inhabitor potions, all of them living and working together. It made group meetings slightly more of a logistical problem. It also meant that they were absolutely going to need some kind of improved system for their improvised form of democracy at some point. Right now, either the whole Order was invited to vote on actions taken, or else there was something like an expert committee that would listen to votes for direction but wasn¡¯t bound by them and was instead tasked with responding quickly to problems. Everyone had a vote, though that vote could be willingly handed off to someone else you trusted. It was essentially recreating representative democracy, just a little more direct, and with a few other changes from people with education and magical skills who wanted to experiment while they had the chance. Though right now, the meeting James was part of wasn¡¯t a forum open to the whole Order. Or rather, it was, if anyone wanted to sit in. But this was much more one of those groups of experts who were trying to rapidly solve problems before they turned from problem to crisis. In this case, they had a webcam set up and a live feed for anyone who was interested. Part of him found it a little incongruous to have their security briefings be public knowledge. Public within the Order at least. But also, James wasn¡¯t especially interested in secrets. If he thought it would help, he¡¯d have streamed the meeting on a Twitch channel. After all, this was more strategy than specific tactics; it wasn¡¯t like someone was going to be able to use this to ambush a specific rogue team. Currently he was sitting with his back to an elevated view of LA, the blinds down so the sunlight outside didn¡¯t cause glare. Nate was on the other side of the table, the man looking like a peeled potato as his eyebrows hadn¡¯t regrown yet. Planner occupied a large segment of the end of the table, a dozen tentacle limbs precisely moving manifested pages around to save on paper. James actually wondered if Planner could be seen on the camera feed, or if this was going to be a weird experience for anyone watching. Harvey was going to be here, but was busy, and had sent Marcus instead, the young man nervously looking at something on his phone as he waited for the meeting to start, a growing brace of various pride pins adorning his coat. Knife-In-Fangs and Charlie rounded out the group; in any other circumstances the two of them would represent the actual people who went out and took care of problems, but almost everyone in this room filled that role, so their perspective - while unique - wasn¡¯t as critical. Both of them were also still healing; Charlie¡¯s arm was in a sling, and Knife-In-Fangs had a pressure bandage wrapped around the coil of his body. ¡°Is JP coming?¡± James asked, looking around their office conference room. ¡°I feel like JP should be coming.¡± ¡°He¡¯s busy.¡± Nate grunted. ¡°We¡¯re all set. Planner?¡± The man gruffly turned to the infomorph. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. We¡¯ve got a lot to cover.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Planner¡¯s voice of pen scratches drifted through the room. ¡°I have a number of items for us to address, which I would like to list first, before we begin more chaotic discussion.¡± ¡°Go for it.¡± James couldn¡¯t help a small grin. Planner nodded and began handing bits of manifested paper to everyone. Briefly, James had a stray thought that this was essentially Planner¡¯s skin, which was a bit weird. But if the infomorph wanted to make copies this way, it was certainly easier on their supply of toner. They still hadn¡¯t figured out an easy way to tap the ocean in Officium Mundi. Then Planner started speaking, and everyone paid close attention. ¡°Without ordering by what I believe is the proper threat ranking, we have a number of ongoing problems that either require a choice on the part of the Order, or would benefit from our attention. They are : the ongoing and escalating battle in the finance world of New York, Harlan, the existence of the Stratified Underburbs, the recently received information on the missing city of Morocco, Ohio, the new information regarding the whereabouts of a number of Status Quo victims, Harlan, the quarantined members of the Order still contagious from the Underburb disease, the potential sightings of the being known as the Old Gun - possibly the identity of the Chainbreaker - near our dungeon operation site in Texas, the renewed efforts by the FBI to coerce behavior from the Order, the ongoing activities of Priority Earth, and the number of missing persons relevant to the potential new dungeon in Utah.¡± James stared down at the page he¡¯d been handed by one of Planner¡¯s tentacles. Then back up at the gently glowing teal infomorph suspended at the end of the long conference table. He felt a sharp pain in his mouth, and realized he¡¯d just been biting at his cheek so hard he¡¯d nearly drawn blood. ¡°I¡¯m going home.¡± James heard himself say, starting to push his chair back from the table. ¡°Sit your ass back down.¡± Nate ordered him with a glare. Though it was harder to tell if he was glaring without the eyebrows to help make it clear. James stopped his escape, and sighed. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, looking around the table and seeing a few other people who were considering making a break for it. ¡°Holy shit, that¡¯s a lot. Oh, also, you actually did miss something, Plan.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± It was odd that Planner could raise their eyebrows at James when Planner didn¡¯t have eyebrows at all. ¡°Yeah, sorta tied to the Priority Earth stuff. The intel we have about their targeted strikes against coal plants and industrial processing facilities.¡± James jutted a thumb toward Nate. ¡°Which, you know, we finally successfully checked out. But I think it deserves its own mention, because the current Priority Earth doesn¡¯t seem invested in that kind of thing.¡± ¡°Also you said Harlan twice.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said. ¡°No, that¡¯s fair. Harlan is a double problem.¡± James winced. ¡°Noted.¡± Planner rippled, and the pages in front of everyone changed. ¡°Now. Where shall we begin?¡± Marcus raised his hand, the young man looking woefully out of his depth. ¡°I have a lot of questions.¡± He got a go ahead nod from Nate, and cleared his throat. ¡°Uh¡­ should I even be here? None of this is really Response stuff, right?¡± ¡°Half our knights are in Response, and you¡¯re a good liaison. Also, you¡¯ve got a good head on your shoulders, and the more people who learn to do this job the better.¡± Nate said. ¡°Yes, you are a good example of a human.¡± Knife-In-Fangs added. Charlie let out a small chuckle. ¡°You can be our sanity check.¡± The man offered. Taking a deep breath, cheeks puffed out as he processed that, Marcus just held up his hands and sat back, not willing to fight on the matter. ¡°Alright.¡± James tried to repress his own sigh. ¡°Let¡¯s start with what we can handle easily?¡± He looked to Nate for confirmation and got an accepting nod. ¡°What was that about Status Quo?¡± ¡°Oh, I know this one.¡± Marcus spoke up. ¡°From finding Alanna¡¯s sister, Recovery figured out what all those Squo documents were talking about. They actually did redact a lot of their own details, but they can narrow down all of them to at least a zip code if it¡¯s in the US. That thing that looked like a zip code? It was a zip code.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± James paused. ¡°I¡¯ve been out of the loop. Alanna¡­?¡± He trailed off, then smiled. ¡°That¡¯s great.¡± James settled on, and meant it. ¡°Zip code is kind of a broad target. But that¡¯s great! We can start working to find Anesh¡¯s parents, right? And also anyone else who got affected, to at least tell them what happened to their family?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± Marcus glanced around the table, a concerned look in his eyes. ¡°Some of them have UK postcodes, so¡­ probably. You, uh.. you know your parents are also on that list, right?¡± ¡°Oh, I know! I just don¡¯t care.¡± James shrugged, running a hand over part of his face that looked fine but still ached from the damage he was in the process of recovering from. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to know they¡¯re okay, but I have no interest in contacting them. My family wasn¡¯t great to me, for a whole bunch of personal reasons that aren¡¯t important here. Is this a security thing, though?¡± He asked. Nate answered roughly. ¡°It¡¯s a security ¡®thing¡¯ because your family is a pressure point that can be used against you, personally. Having them secure is important.¡± ¡°Okay, makes sense.¡± James nodded. ¡°I mean, I assume we¡¯re going to find them anyway. This is mostly just good news, right? Do we need to do anything except let Recovery do their jobs with alarming competence?¡± ¡°No?¡± Marcus shrugged. ¡°Not really?¡± There was a rush of relief that came from the satisfaction of definitively checking off a box on a list. ¡°Great! Next item!¡± James proclaimed. Nate took control of the meeting. ¡°Let¡¯s start with the pressing shit.¡± He said, rolling the false paper in front of him with heavy fingers without looking at it. ¡°A lot of this will either wait on us, or isn¡¯t gonna kill us, but some of it¡¯s an issue. The feds are an issue. Harlan is an issue. Also, the Old Gun fucking around near the Stacks is an issue. And I keep fucking saying ¡®issue¡¯ but what I mean, I need you all to get, is ¡®pants shitting high alert problem¡¯. Okay?¡± ¡°Unprofessional, but acknowledged.¡± Planner spoke dryly. Knife-In-Fangs gave an odd shrug of his mechanical prosthetic arms. ¡°You become used to this.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°I don¡¯t think Harlan is as much of an issue as we¡¯re worried about..¡± James said. ¡°Bullshit.¡± Nate and Knife-In-Fangs spoke at the same time, before the human kept going. ¡°They show up out of nowhere, have knowledge of how we operate and where you live, have a good fucking reason to bear a grudge against us, and have an unknown number of combat assets ready to go.¡± ¡°That actually overlaps the Priority Earth situation, yeah?¡± Charlie asked, reading off Planner¡¯s notes. ¡°Because there¡¯s a branch of the Wolfpack there, that¡¯s what started a lot of the recent mess, right?¡± ¡°Right. Actually, that¡¯s who we should be looking into.¡± James winced as he remembered. ¡°Someone was willing to suicide bomb a whole building full of people, just to kill Harlan. And they showed up out of nowhere. We know Harlan can teleport. We don¡¯t know anything about the other guy, who might very well be part of a group that¡¯s out for our blood now too.¡± While James was talking, Marcus signaled Planner, who snaked a tentacle around the table next to the young man. He whispered to the infomorph, and got a new page deposited on the table in front of him. Scanning quickly, Marcus nodded and then added to the conversation. ¡°We do have security teams now, by the way.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be a while before they¡¯re up to our base standard for teamwork and culture, but between armory packages and group training, we have multiple new teams we can deploy just to keep an eye on things and screen for threats. So we don¡¯t need to get ambushed quite so bad next time?¡± ¡°Good start.¡± Nate said. ¡°Are we giving those kids skulljacks?¡± ¡°It¡¯s up for consideration.¡± Marcus answered. ¡°It¡¯s an ongoing conversation.¡± That was code for ¡®a lot of people disagreed¡¯, and that they should move on. Nate nodded, catching on. ¡°Well, good start anyway. That can at least keep us from getting caught out. But it doesn¡¯t cover everything, and it doesn¡¯t actually deal with the Old Gun or the feds.¡± ¡°Yeah, actually, back up to that. Planner, why are the FBI fucking with us again? I thought we had an amicable arrangement with at least Malcom and his branch.¡± The infomorph opened a few eyes to look over their own paperwork. ¡°We do.¡± Planner said. ¡°That is not the issue. Currently a number of our ancillary members who are managing the anti-cancer project have received pressuring meetings from agents, and are also under surveillance. Monitoring was discovered just yesterday, and appears to be a form of subtle threat?¡± They turned to Nate. The man ran a hand over his bald head. ¡°It¡¯s a threat, but it¡¯s not very subtle.¡± He growled. ¡°Wait, why are they mad that we¡¯re curing cancer?!¡± Charlie spoke up, clearly confused. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense. There¡¯s no valid reason to act that way?¡± ¡°There is if they think they can get the cure off us.¡± James intercepted Nate¡¯s own explanation. ¡°Or, if they can¡¯t, if they can rig our system somehow by pressuring us. They obviously don¡¯t give a shit that we aren¡¯t FDA approved, since if they actually did we¡¯d have gotten a phone call from them. It¡¯s not like it¡¯s hard to contact us.¡± ¡°It should be harder to contact us.¡± Nate muttered. He was ignored. ¡°Well¡­ they can¡¯t do that!¡± Charlie continued. ¡°That seems super illegal.¡± ¡°We are also breaking laws, in fairness.¡± Knife-In-Fangs offered. ¡°As far as my understanding of local legal codes stretches. Which is substantial! Thanks to the several frustratingly specific skill orbs I have consumed.¡± ¡°The FBI doesn¡¯t actually give too many shits about legality.¡± Nate reminded them. ¡°Not to say they¡¯re a completely chaotic mess; they¡¯ve got rules, and they play by them most of the time. But there¡¯s so many fucking loopholes in a lot of laws that spying on a random citizen can basically always be justified as an emergency act, and they¡¯re accountable to no one. Odds are, Malcom doesn¡¯t even know this is going on.¡± ¡°What if he did?¡± James mused quietly, eyes fixed on the grey wall over Nate¡¯s head. Everyone went quiet and waited for him to continue, and he blinked as he realized they were listening. ¡°I mean, what if I just make a call, and tell him to fix this? Think it¡¯d work?¡± ¡°Nonviolent, simple, possibly effective. I like this plan.¡± Charlie nodded. ¡°He does owe you a favor or five.¡± Nate nodded grudgingly. ¡°Worst case he says no.¡± ¡°Do we plan for a no, or do we try first?¡± Knife-In-Fangs asked. ¡°We are not prepared to fight a government intelligence agency. It would require more people, at least. Or less ethics.¡± ¡°So more people.¡± Marcus tried to sound lighthearted, but it didn¡¯t work. Still, everyone nodded at his words. James made a note on his phone¡¯s to do list, and moved it to the top. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of this after the meeting.¡± He said. ¡°Okay. Next thing. The Old Gun?¡± ¡°Yeah. We¡¯ve spotted something that could be her a few times in that town the Ceaseless Stacks are in.¡± Nate looked like he¡¯d taken a bite of lemon as he said the name. He liked being serious all the time, and the fanciful nature of how they named dungeons didn¡¯t appeal to him. Still, he muscled through. ¡°There¡¯s a real chance it¡¯s looking to pull something like with the Akashic Sewer on the Library. And we don¡¯t have a way to handle that.¡± ¡°Last time, it required her to manipulate someone into mass murder, and then¡­ do a weird ritual thing to the dungeon space?¡± James let out a long breath, pushing away the emotions of the event and staying clinical for the meeting. ¡°We can work with that. We just have to keep the space itself safe. Like, the outside space. Stop any human crimes against nature in the area, and she won¡¯t be able to move in.¡± ¡°Yeah, and what if she kidnaps Momo while she¡¯s out getting chicken wings before a delve?¡± Nate asked with a pointed irritation. ¡°Cut our losses? Do some kind of stupid heroic rescue?¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t have a good answer.¡± James said. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s ¡®cause there¡¯s no good answer.¡± Nate drove home. ¡°We don¡¯t even know if we can deal with something like that. We can try, we¡¯ve got more guns and more magic than the last time, but the kid of one of these things can shrug off full auto five seven, so maybe we aren¡¯t geared for it.¡± ¡°Avoidance isn¡¯t a bad plan.¡± Charlie suggested. ¡°We can just pull out if we need to. Losing the Library is bad, but¡­ the alternative?¡± ¡°What, and just let her kill people?¡± Marcus looked sick. ¡°Wait, is it her, or it?¡± Planner made a clicking sound. ¡°Unknown. The creature presents as female though.¡± ¡°Also I don¡¯t care.¡± Nate rolled his eyes. ¡°What do we do about it?¡± ¡°Charlie¡¯s¡­ depressingly¡­ right.¡± James said, the words coming out strained. ¡°We probably can¡¯t win a stand up fight. So we need to be prepared to either give up the Stacks, or ruin her plans, or both. Nate, how easy would it be to rig the building for controlled demolition if we need to? And¡­ who here is our delver rep? Charlie? What would be the viability of pivoting all our delve teams to the Library now so that we can get as much out as possible before we lose access?¡± ¡°Why do you think I know how to blow up buildings?¡± Nate asked. ¡°Okay, Planner, same question.¡± James snorted. Planner set the tips of several of their tentacles on the table¡¯s edge. ¡°Not especially viable with mundane technologies. Explosives cannot be easily concealed at the levels needed for controlled demolition, it would require us to do extensive remodeling of the structure. With the theory that the dungeon actually extends into Earth space on the second floor of the library, it is even less likely a demolition would succeed. I believe it would be more realistic to have an area teleport prepared at all times to deploy the largest fuel air bomb we can construct into the building¡¯s basement. This could cause an uncontrolled demolition, but would be effective at unleashing rampant chaos within the space, and has the best odds of spoiling the Old Gun¡¯s plans.¡± There was a moment of silence around the table. Followed by Marcus letting out a nervous laugh that bordered on a manic giggle. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s terrifying!¡± He squeaked out. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s¡­ okay, good. Let¡¯s get that set up.¡± James said. ¡°That¡¯s actually great, because we can keep the bomb disassembled and safe until we need it.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the perk there.¡± Nate looked like he didn¡¯t know what he was arguing about. ¡°So, our plan is cutting our losses?¡± ¡°If needed.¡± Charlie pointed out. ¡°The alternative is worse. And we should not be careless with the power of the territory we hold.¡± Knife-In-Fangs added. It did suck, but James agreed. There wasn¡¯t really a good answer here, there was no right option that got them everything they wanted with no downsides. At the end of the day, whatever the Old Gun wanted, there was a very good chance that it was going to hurt a lot of people. Which mean stopping that was a higher priority than the Order of Endless Rooms keeping ahold of a source of power. ¡°Well, that¡¯s one dungeon thing tentatively decided. What about the other two?¡± James asked. Nate nodded. ¡°Pick your poison. Underburbs, or Utah.¡± ¡°Utah first.¡± James said. ¡°That¡¯s me.¡± Charlie nodded on the other side of the heavy oak table. ¡°A few people know this already, but I think a recap is worth it. My team and I followed up on the kids in Utah, at James¡¯ request. If anyone watching doesn¡¯t know why that¡¯s relevant, don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re bringing in anyone who we need, and it taxes infomorphs to reveal too much.¡± He scratched at his stubble with his good hand. ¡°They¡¯re missing. So are their families. Evidence we recovered shows that this was a multi-generational delver group. It goes back at least two generations. We brought back some dungeontech from the empty houses; it¡¯s on the list to be copied. It¡¯s another spell-based magic, too. Tokens open slots, and then you need to spend X amount of time with one of the books to fill that slot with a one use magic. I¡¯m sure we don¡¯t know all of it.¡± He made an inscrutable small motion with his head and free hand. ¡°Wait, at least two generations?¡± Marcus perked up as he took the opening. ¡°I¡¯m actually into the history thing, was there anything about, y¡¯know, how old their dungeon was? So far the oldest thing we know is the potion tree, and we can only trace that back five decades. About.¡± ¡°Only five?¡± James wanted to dive into that tangent now. ¡°I thought all the Alchemists were older than that.¡± ¡°None of the ones here were recruited by someone who talked about who brought them in, so we don¡¯t have a verifiable chain.¡± Marcus answered. ¡°Dungeon history is hard, you guys!¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Something stuck out to James suddenly. ¡°Is this just a hobby you¡¯re pursuing in your free time?¡± He asked, curious. ¡°Because I basically always ever see you in the Response basement. Do you have, like, notes or something? Send those to me, I wanna see later.¡± ¡°Yeah, sure. But, uh. Sorry Charlie, kinda cut you off there.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Charlie started to shrug, then stopped with a wince as he pulled on his arm sling. ¡°I don¡¯t have sufficient information to give you an answer anyway. We can¡¯t verify anything. We can¡¯t even prove they aren¡¯t just on a long family delve, or just on vacation.¡± His somewhat dry tone contrasted with how amused the words made James, but also highlighted that Charlie did think it was a real option. ¡°Still no details on where the dungeon is. If we want to investigate, we¡¯ll be spending a lot of time and work hours looking.¡± Nate rapped his knuckles on the wood, getting everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°And that brings up the Underburbs. I¡¯ve had a couple rogues sent out to narrow it down. We lost the signal fast, but GPS led us to somewhere in nowhere, Missouri.¡± James opened his mouth to make a joke, then bit it back when he remembered this was supposed to be the professional meeting, and also Nate glared him into silence. ¡°Half our knights are injured right now, with things we can¡¯t purple orb away. The other half need actual downtime, especially James. People, we don¡¯t have the manpower for everything. So we gotta make a choice here.¡± ¡°Underburbs.¡± James said instantly, subconsciously folding his arms and staring at the edge of the table. Nobody said anything, and after the seconds of silence stretched on, he realized they were waiting for him. ¡°Oh. Uh. The Dungeons and Dragons Dungeon sounds fun and all, and I¡¯d love to meet a delver family unit because I think that could give us some insight into how our future society would work. But there¡¯s no active rescue to be doing there, and there¡¯s way, way more ground to cover. The Underburbs, we¡¯ve got narrowed down more, and also, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s one of those places like the Climb, or the Sewer, where even if it¡¯s not evil, we should be setting up a cordon and keeping people out. It¡¯s dangerous.¡± ¡°Utah could also be dangerous.¡± Charlie pointed out simply. ¡°We still have no real information.¡± ¡°We¡¯re guessing.¡± Knife-In-Fangs made it more obvious. ¡°Except you feel personally attacked by the Underburbs.¡± James nodded, pursing his lips as he did. ¡°I do!¡± He admitted. ¡°That place sucks! And I seriously worry about sending anyone in there without a hazmat suit made out of shield bracers and a rocket launcher. But it¡¯s a confirmed source of magic items, and repeatable skills. The other one, we know it gives spells, but the utility of those spells is¡­ questionable.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t we know one of the kids could block teleports?¡± Nate asked. ¡°Teleports out, at least. That¡¯s a tactical advantage I want.¡± There were a few tactical advantages that the magic offered, as far as James knew. The ability to make a chair on command, if nothing else, was exactly the sort of extra dramatic bullshit that he could easily put to use for style points. That¡­ that one was actually less tactical than being able to spawn swords on command, but it was the first thing his brain thought of. Also swords were just less tactically useful than James had been led to believe by a lifetime of fantasy media. Not useless, exactly, but it wasn¡¯t like dungeon creatures were spontaneously weak to swords and resistant to bullets. ¡°I agree with James.¡± Marcus interrupted his thoughts. ¡°Underburbs we at least want contained, right? Because if someone does survive it, and comes out, that¡¯s a plague. And¡­ we don¡¯t¡­ like those?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t like those, no.¡± Knife-In-Fangs started to give a bobbing nod, then made a sudden hissing and froze, slowly inching back in his seat. ¡°Ow.¡± He said. ¡°I forgot.¡± Even Nate gave the injured camraconda a worried look. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t do that. Anyway. Charlie, Planner, you have thoughts?¡± Charlie gave a jerk of his head and a thin line of a frown, abstaining. Planner, on the other hand, made a noise like shuffling through a filing cabinet. ¡°I would prefer we cover as much as possible. Could we simply address the core issue, which is lack of available knight hours?¡± ¡°¡­so hire more people.¡± Nate said flatly. ¡°It would alleviate the problem of decisions such as this.¡± Planner, if they detected Nate¡¯s sarcasm, didn¡¯t react to it. ¡°More knights would let us search for both dungeons, and allow more flexibility in the future.¡± Knife-In-Fangs gave the infomorph¡¯s tentacle body a titled look, lens of his eye irising to a narrow dot. ¡°Planner, we¡¯re already constantly adding to our knights.¡± The camraconda stated. ¡°There are reasons, good ones I believe, for not moving faster.¡± ¡°Those reasons are mostly based off not wanting to hire assholes, right?¡± Marcus asked. Nate coughed once. ¡°Assholes or infiltrators, yeah.¡± He said. James shot him a raucous grin, which he ignored. ¡°Also to allow time for training up to being not a total fuckwit, and to do that thing where we slowly convert them to James¡¯ idea of socialized.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got glasses for infiltrators.¡± Charlie dismissed that. ¡°And¡­ I mean, I think a lot of people here know someone, right?¡± Marcus asked slowly. ¡°I know a bunch of people who¡¯d be into this. Half of Response has friends who don¡¯t believe them. We could get people.¡± ¡°Training, though.¡± ¡°I kinda meant as¡­ like¡­ volunteer delvers? Free up some of the knights, while learning how to be action movie protagonists?¡± Marcus ventured. ¡°Is that not what we do here?¡± ¡°Is that what you¡¯ve been doing?¡± James asked, suspicious. Marcus shook his head rapidly. ¡°Oh, heck no! I answer phones and fill out telepads! I¡¯d die in a dungeon!¡± ¡°And you have friends who would be¡­ cool with that?¡± Charlie sounded confused. ¡°Yes?¡± Marcus looked a little sheepish. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m getting us off track again.¡± James nodded. ¡°No, I get it. If I had a friend who came to me with this offer five years ago, I would probably have said yes. And then gotten myself killed by a living and angry screen saver or something. But I woulda said yes.¡± The meeting was brought back onto the rails by Planner. ¡°Recruitment is a long term solution.¡± They said. ¡°I will accept that. For now, I will concede that the Underburbs are the best choice to avoid further disruptions.¡± James blinked, and looked at the others around the table. ¡°That¡­ isn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, good enough.¡± Nate said. ¡°So. Utah on the back burner. Charlie, you¡¯re not doing fieldwork for a while anyway, you¡¯re the coordinator for this.¡± He said it in a way that didn¡¯t sound like a question, but if Charlie took offense he didn¡¯t show it. Just nodded and gave a thumbs up with his good hand. ¡°What¡¯s next? Do we wanna talk about carriers, since we¡¯re on the Burbs anyway?¡± ¡°Ah. That.¡± James winced. ¡°So, one of the medical staff accidentally got reinfected by one of the people who had the arm hole nightmare disease, but never showed symptoms. She¡¯s fine, don¡¯t worry. But the next time Deb did a blood test, there were no remaining antigens for the thing. In either of them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good, yes?¡± Knife-In-Fangs asked. ¡°A few people can get new skill points, we can make sure they don¡¯t die, and then that fixes the quarantine problem.¡± ¡°And now it¡¯s my turn to say something fucking stupid.¡± Nate sighed. James was already frowning, knowing what was coming, but the others hadn¡¯t gotten a key piece of information yet. ¡°The ratio is about one in twelve. For becoming carriers.¡± Nate nodded as he saw recognition on some of their faces; Planner in particular pulled their tentacles in on themself, wrapping up the limbs that were only recently healed. ¡°Yeah. So. We could wipe it out, at least locally. Or, we could keep a revolving door going, and farm what we know is survivable for skill points.¡± James spoke almost instantly when Nate finished talking. ¡°I just want to make it clear that I have personally seen this infection kill about twenty people.¡± His voice was quiet, and trembled slightly, but his words came across perfectly clear. ¡°This isn¡¯t something we should be hanging on to.¡± ¡°We have information on that though.¡± Charlie countered, a little confusion in his voice. ¡°It was the teleport, right? Some kind of immune system shock? But we don¡¯t have that, and to everyone else¡­ no one died here.¡± The way he said it hurt. James knew he didn¡¯t mean it as a critique, or some kind of subtle dig. At least, he hoped not. He didn¡¯t know Charlie that well, but the man seemed pretty direct. And yet it still sucked to be reminded that everyone here had simply had a bad couple of hours, while on James¡¯ side the majority of the infected fucking died. It wasn¡¯t even anyone¡¯s fault. At least, not anyone that Harlan hadn¡¯t shot seven or eight times. It was just the nature of a weird interaction, that left a swath of people dead and James a little bit on edge. The others were still talking while he tried to grapple with that. This meeting wasn¡¯t about his feelings, even if they were based off experience. It was about getting results, in a way that was safe, yes, but also effective. Which meant that, when he sat aside his trepidation and dread, he was left with experience that actually was useful. ¡°Okay, I think I need to veto this plan.¡± James said suddenly. It looked like Nate was about to argue with him, though the others were mostly curious. Except Knife-In-Fangs, who was immune to both the problem and the reward in this case. ¡°I think¡­ I think that if we could absolutely ensure that we kept it contained, then I¡¯d say yes. On a volunteer basis, obviously, and I worry that not enough people would be into grinding lesions for skill points to actually make it viable to not keep people in quarantine for weeks at a time. But, that containment clause is reallllly important, and there¡¯s a problem with it.¡± ¡°We can take precautions.¡± Charlie pointed out. ¡°We¡¯ve been doing it this whole time. The quarantine rooms in the hospital work. Otherwise this would have been a problem days ago.¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± James nodded. ¡°Hey, remember how infomorphs can get infected?¡± He asked. ¡°Yes.¡± Planner¡¯s word was like a flourished check mark on a page. ¡°I do remember that!¡± James nodded, seeing grudging realization on Nate¡¯s face. ¡°Yeah. All it takes is one mistimed manifestation - which we cannot quarantine against, remember - and we¡¯re facing another outbreak. And yeah, this thing burns itself out fast, but we actually don¡¯t know how it spreads via infomorph. What if someone gets infected while in the middle of a Walmart? It only takes one slip up, for a thing that we can only defend against with scheduling.¡± ¡°I am good at scheduling¡­¡± Planner admitted. ¡°But even I refuse that risk.¡± Nate made a grunt of discontent. ¡°I don¡¯t like it. It means our only source of points is back in the Burbs, and that means facing new shit we won¡¯t be prepared for.¡± He shook his head, looking like he was irritated at the whole situation. ¡°But fuck, you¡¯re not wrong. We should at least get what we can out of the solution, though. Planner, you wanna open up invitations to anyone who wants another point?¡± ¡°Already asking.¡± Planner¡¯s tentacles relaxed. The camraconda at the table shifted back and forth, looking for a more comfortable position. ¡°I have no stake in this.¡± Knife-In-Fangs reminded them. ¡°Though does anyone else find it strange that we seem immune because we have no arms? The disease also carries a fever, which my people are very bad at managing. Is it weird?¡± ¡°It¡¯s weird.¡± Marcus confirmed. ¡°But, like, sanity check. You¡¯re made out of cables and are from a dungeon?¡± ¡°I am!¡± Knife-In-Fangs gave a much less strenuous nod. ¡°Any of those things could prevent camraconda infection.¡± Charlie shook his head. ¡°Not the dungeon life part. Ratroaches got it too, and if anything it was worse for them.¡± Spreading his arms out over the table, James got their attention. ¡°So, specifics aside, we¡¯re okay purging this? No need to loop carriers or anything, especially not now that we¡¯re short on people?¡± He got a series of affirmatives. ¡°Alright. What¡¯s next? We¡¯ve got Morocco, New York, Priority Earth, and bizarre hypnotic plant life eating power plants.¡± ¡°I love this job.¡± The words from Marcus were probably meant to go unheard. ¡°Serious talk; what are we supposed to do about a missing city?¡± Knife-In-Fangs asked. ¡°We already have a missing city, and we don¡¯t know what to do with it. We didn¡¯t cause it. The national government knows about it. Let it be their problem.¡± Nate let out a grunt. ¡°My prep cook is right.¡± He said. ¡°Pretty much all we can do there is be creeped out all the time.¡± ¡°We could at least find it.¡± Charlie said. ¡°Get some of the programming emeralds started on making code that looks for where cities are supposed to be? Or just have Recovery use their free time looking for holes in surveillance or road networks?¡± ¡°When you say ¡®Recovery¡¯s free time¡¯, it makes me know that you don¡¯t know what they do all day.¡± Marcus said. ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± James tried not to laugh. ¡°Okay, so, I think Charlie has a good point. We do want to know where it is, at least, because the more information we have on shit like this the better. Code emeralds are a good investment for almost no time on our part, so let¡¯s start there. Planner, can-¡° ¡°Done.¡± The infomorph looked about as smug as a spatially folded half-octopus could. ¡°Okay. New York.¡± James said, already shaking his head. ¡°What are we doing about this? We¡¯re no closer to answers than we were a month ago, we don¡¯t seem to be actually stopping the pillars, or whoever else is involved, and¡­ I can¡¯t even say things are getting worse?¡± Nate shook his head. ¡°They¡¯re not. They¡¯re the same as they were at the start. And I mean, the same. The spyware we have in the employee records of some of the places that got hit shows they just replaced everyone almost right away, and nothing changed. If I didn¡¯t know what was going on, I¡¯d just think they had some turnover. Or that there was a weird horror show playing out in slow motion.¡± ¡°Cool. Cool cool cool.¡± James did not think it was cool. ¡°Nate, help me out here. What the fuck are we supposed to do about this? I¡¯d been hoping this would be our way in to learn about pillar shit, but the closest we got was a copy of Camille who we haven¡¯t seen since. Actually, everyone get in on this. What is our damn objective in New York?¡± ¡°¡­stopping the murdering?¡± Marcus asked. ¡°I thought that was kinda obvious. That¡¯s what we do, right?¡± Charlie gave a stare to the ceiling tiles. ¡°That, and gathering information, so we can make better choices.¡± ¡°Yeah, kid,¡± Nate said the word and James tried not to bristle as his brain instantly told him he was being talked down to, ¡±sometimes intelligence takes time. Sometimes it never works. We can be making no progress, and still be in the right place. And we are picking up leads and contacts. Not to mention getting some good hands on training for the rogues.¡± ¡°So¡­ what, just keep on keeping on?¡± James asked. ¡°Persistence!¡± Knife-In-Fangs said with a fanged grin and a laughing series of hisses that overlapped the spoken words. ¡°Though it is a bad feeling to be unable to help.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, you don¡¯t really blend in.¡± Nate spoke with his characteristic lack of tact. Knife-In-Fangs slumped slightly. ¡°I would be good at a stakeout. I am very patient. And no one can escape me.¡± ¡°Not a bad point. We should maybe get some camraconda backup over there, if we¡¯re going to keep up normal operations.¡± James said. ¡°If anyone is interest-¡° ¡°Yes!¡± Knife-In-Fangs leapt at the opportunity. Planner ruined their dreams. ¡°If any uninjured camracondas are interested in beginning rogue training, or assisting with active operations, I will have a list for you by the end of the day.¡± ¡°Get it to Ben.¡± Nate said dismissively. ¡°I don¡¯t run the roster.¡± Planner gave him an assenting tentacle wave. ¡°So. Speaking of things we¡¯ve picked up from New York. Priority Earth. Any thoughts on that?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t Malcom and his FBI secret cabal supposed to be handling that?¡± James asked. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I kinda figured by the time I woke up from my temporary coma, they¡¯d have solved it by now.¡± He looked through the notes Planner had given him for anything on Priority Earth, and came up weirdly empty. ¡°Wait, hang on. We¡¯re watching them, right?¡± Nate nodded at him. ¡°Okay, so, what the fuck are they doing? If whatever hit they took in New York is done, and they aren¡¯t back there, are they just¡­ lurking around their compound, doing nothing?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± Nate said blandly. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Marcus looked around the table, looking as confused as James felt. ¡°Why?¡± Planner hissed. ¡°Yes, very inefficient.¡± ¡°Yeah, also, we got what we wanted from the Wolfpack when we started copying their teleporter.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m not saying we stop paying attention, or have a contingency plan, but what the fuck is the current version of Priorty Earth doing?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± Nate said. And then he tapped the table, underlining his words. ¡°And that¡¯s why we should be watching them. Something happened to those fuckers. There was a group of ecoterrorists that wrecked some civil infrastructure and trapped me in a cocoon, and they are not the same people as the people living in their cabins. Something fucked is going on in that place, and I want to know what.¡± He said it with the tenor of a man who had no eyebrows, and a mild grudge about it. ¡°I have an option for us.¡± Charlie said. ¡°If we¡¯re okay taking a risk.¡± ¡°Sure, what¡¯s up?¡± James focused on the injured man. Charlie pulled up the paper he had on the new teleporter. ¡°Well, they keep guards, but they have routines. Why don¡¯t we just steal the cabins when they¡¯re asleep?¡± James fought back a wide eyed series of blinks. His brain had been so focused on the idea of using the teleporters to commandeer global shipping that he hadn¡¯t even considered grand theft building. It felt like a terrible idea. Like it was opening a can of worms that could never be shut again. The Order dipping their toe into a world of magical alpha strikes that weren¡¯t compatible with a healthy civilization. But then, that was kind of where they already were. That was literally why they had a growing strength infomorph cloaking their buildings, and why a good chunk of their operations took place in a city no one remembered. Also, so far, James instincts for being cautious with magic use had almost always been wrong, and it had been nothing but to the Order¡¯s benefit to keep using magic to do bigger and dumber things. Distributing anti-cancer potions and orbs, building apartments and hospitals that defied space, running a magical civil peace unit, all of it was just¡­ going pretty well. No matter how terrified James was that something was going to go wrong, they kept putting out vulnerabilities to the world as a show of good faith, and being rewarded by having the operations run¡­ Well, ¡°smoothly¡± would be a fucking lie. But they ran. They got stuff done. It was working. ¡°Stealing buildings sounds like a really stupid idea.¡± James found himself saying. ¡°And I kinda love it. If nothing else, we can hit the cabin they had the antimemed closet in, and secure the magical blueprints, plus all the other useful intelligence material in the form of records and notes there. But that should maybe be a contingency plan? Like, we could fire that off if we ever see the FBI making moves toward that place. Or if Harlan shows up to collect their army.¡± ¡°Right, the Wolfpack.¡± Charlie shook his head. ¡°Any value talking to them?¡± ¡°Oh, sure.¡± James shrugged lightly. ¡°Harlan was fine. Like, I wanna be clear about this. Harlan was a fucking asshole, and a bad person, and I would never want them in charge of anything. They have almost certainly been paid to kill innocent people. But also they didn¡¯t lie to us, and they¡¯re open to making fair deals. And I see no evidence the Wolfpack is any different, just that the ones up in Alaska are borked somehow.¡± ¡°And Harlan knows where they are.¡± Charlie pointed out. ¡°Do they?¡± Marcus asked with sudden curiosity. ¡°Because¡­ didn¡¯t they wipe their memory of James, as a whole? Wouldn¡¯t that include the coordinates?¡± James shook his head. ¡°I wrote it down for them. Though they could have lost it? So maybe? Also, we need an official stance on the memory bullets.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Nate said. ¡°Kinda hard to do mass testing with them, since they need to kill to respawn, and they fuck up infomorphs. Reed and Nik were fucking going off about using skulljack stored memories to loop optimized bullets, and I think I understood, but also they hadn¡¯t found anyone to test it with. I¡¯ve got a Climb run coming up though, I¡¯ll be taking a mag of the things and seeing if I can get us a test supply. But until Research tells us they aren¡¯t causing brain damage, I say we don¡¯t fuck with them.¡± ¡°I like that plan!¡± Marcus agreed instantly. Charlie and Knife-In-Fangs looked slightly disappointed, but both of them had part of Planner in their brains anyway and so they were exempt from making more memory bullets to begin with. ¡°We end up with some messed up stuff, huh?¡± The young man asked, fiddling with one of the pins on his jacket. ¡°Alright. Home stretch.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°That coal power plant, and the hypno-flower. What¡¯re we thinking?¡± ¡°Nuke it.¡± Nate said without hesitation. A chorus of disagreement met him, especially from Planner of all people. ¡°No, no!¡± The infomorph twitched their tendrils in frustration, as everyone else deferred to them to speak. ¡°The creature may be alive, we should not simply kill it for being different!¡± Knife-In-Fangs hissed out a laugh while he replied to that. ¡°I doubt Nate cares it is different. He wants to kill it for entirely personal reasons.¡± ¡°Well, veto on those too. If I can put my personal shit aside, so can you.¡± James told Nate bluntly, and got a look of grudging respect back. ¡°I say we leave it, for a number of reasons I didn¡¯t count before starting this sentence. One, having a place that¡¯s only safe for people with a properly tuned infomorph seems like a good fallback. Two, it didn¡¯t kill anyone. I don¡¯t think I can stress this enough; the Priority Earth document on taking out that power plant was from years ago, and none of the people in those pods died. I haven¡¯t heard from Deb on any of them yet, so I dunno if there¡¯s long term side effects, but anything that can store a human for that long without killing? We should absolutely study that. Hell, we¡¯ve got the money now, thanks to Texture-Of-Barkdust and our abuse of our matter replicator, we should hire every botanist and geneticist we can get our hands on. Three¡­ I mean, it¡¯s a non-lethal mass weapon that we can deploy via teleporter.¡± Marcus and Charlie looked two different shades of appalled by the words, but Nate made a low grumble of recognition. ¡°And four, it is a cool new form of life. And making friends with new forms of life is, like, what we do. I dunno if it¡¯ll work since it¡¯s a plant that doesn¡¯t seem to talk to anyone, but we can find out!¡± ¡°I would like to add to your note on study that it is also a heavy memetic effect, and yet, it does not have a presence in my world.¡± Planner noted. ¡°It is either entirely physical, or its informorph form is contained within itself quite tightly. Which I personally find interesting.¡± ¡°Yeah. And, to be clear, we¡¯re not the group that decides if we study it or make friends with it or date it.¡± James said, waving a hand. ¡°We just need to decide how to be safe about it. And I, personally, think we should hit all the other Priority Earth sites, make sure that this isn¡¯t a fluke, rescue everyone we can, and go from there.¡± ¡°Oh, we can recruit from the people we rescue.¡± Marcus noted cheerfully. ¡°We do that, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, we do that.¡± Nate rubbed at his bald forehead, sounding exhausted. ¡°Fine. Fine. But if it tries to eat me again I¡¯m fucking setting it on fire.¡± ¡°Noted.¡± Planner sounded like they were as close to laughing as they ever got. James nodded, satisfied, and feeling the tension fading as the end of the meeting approached rapidly. ¡°Alright. So. Keep watch on the New York and Priority Earth situations, set up two teleporters for contingency plans for the Library and the one Priority Earth cabin, explore the Priority Earth targets and study the magical flora, purge the wizard plague, find the Underburbs, ask our FBI contact for a favor, reunite a bunch of people with their families, recruit more delvers, find Morocco but ignore it, anything else?¡± ¡°That is a succinct summary.¡± Planner complimented him. ¡°I believe that is all that is needed for now.¡± ¡°Alright. So hey, I know who¡¯s on a few of these things, but what should I be doing?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, what specific task should I take?¡± Nate clapped a hand on his shoulder hard enough that his bones rattled as the big man walked behind him. ¡°Nothing.¡± He said. ¡°And I know you won¡¯t do nothing, but take some downtime. Hang around the Lair, do an easy delve or two, help a few people, solve some problems. We¡¯ll have a new big thing for you soon enough.¡± ¡°Are you telling me to relax and unwind by going on dungeon delves?¡± James asked, jokingly incredulous. Nate¡¯s eye roll was almost audible it was so dramatic. ¡°Yes.¡± He said bluntly. ¡°Now, everyone get to work.¡± After everyone else had filtered out of the room and Planner had retrieved the bits of themselves that had been briefly displayed as pages of notes and issues to address, James stood leaning on the floor to ceiling window, staring out over a chaotic, messy, inefficient, and yet alive human city. He briefly wondered what it said about him that he felt more comfortable exploring a slightly deadly magical office than he felt exploring the streets of a place like this. ¡°Dammit.¡± He muttered begrudgingly. ¡°Nate¡¯s right. I¡¯m gonna go find Arrush and Alanna and see if they wanna go to the Library tonight.¡± Chapter 239 ¡°How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks.¡± -Dorothy L Sayers, Gaudy Night (1935)- _____ The public library was a great institution. James was, for reasons both personal and political, deeply invested in their health and success, and he always found the places to be comfortable to be in. Even this library, sitting in the middle of a northern Texas city that James had embarrassingly forgotten the name of, with a dungeon inside and an extra floor of building outside that shouldn¡¯t exist. It was just great to see places like this. It was easy to forget with the power of Google in everyone¡¯s pocket, but libraries were repositories of a lot of knowledge and detail and complexity. Not to mention fun. The number of really bad sci-fi novels James had consumed in his childhood was magnified by a factor of a hundred thanks to his local library. And for that alone, he would fight to the death to preserve it, if needed. None of this was enough to stop him from complaining about something though. ¡°It¡¯s almost one AM.¡± He stated flatly. ¡°It¡¯s late February-¡° ¡°It is March my dude.¡± Vad interrupted him. James continued smoothly. ¡°It¡¯s early March.¡± He really hoped it was early and he hadn¡¯t lost a week or two somewhere. ¡°It¡¯s, what, ten degrees outside?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that cold. I mean, I know we had that ice storm a while back, and it¡¯s not like Texas doesn¡¯t have winters, but it isn¡¯t¡­ oh, you mean celcius. Yeah, sure.¡± ¡°Right. So why is the air conditioning on and making it even colder in here?¡± James demanded. Vad snorted. ¡°Get a sweater?¡± He suggested. James glanced over at him, and realized that the man was sorting a book return cart. He wanted to make a comment, but honestly, it was one of the least silly things he¡¯d seen someone to do calm their nerves before a delve. There was a part of James mind that spoke out to him, and told him that maybe it wasn¡¯t normal or healthy for him to not have any anxiety before going through the doors. But he dismantled that worry rapidly, piece by piece. He was skilled, bloodied, well equipped, and probably more dangerous than anything within a mile of the dungeon¡¯s entrance. This wasn¡¯t him stumbling through a new and scary place, this was him going into a place he¡¯d been before, looking for unfamiliar niches and odd secrets. And he was doing it with others who were just as competent as him. Though not as many others as normal. James broke his worries down and tried to set them aside, and when he couldn¡¯t fully do that, he turned to the other person who¡¯d come with him to complain about Vad. ¡°Arrush, help, Vad¡¯s bullying me!¡± ¡°You¡­ did tell him¡­ you would burn his building down.¡± Arrush muttered out a point, trying to clear his throat from the thick corrosive fluid that built up when he was sitting idle. ¡°Yeah, actually!¡± Vad pointed the spine of an illustrated book on plants at James like a baton. ¡°You could just blow up the air conditioning! That¡¯s how you solve problems, right?!¡± ¡°No yelling in the library!¡± James stage whispered back. Vad scowled at him. One of the first things James had done when they¡¯d arrived had been to talk to the man about the fallback plan for if the Old Gun breached the dungeon, and Vad had been displeased, to say the least. Oh, he¡¯d already known; being a member of the Order by this point, he had read the recap of the security meeting, and he and the other rotating members who rotated keeping an eye on the dungeon¡¯s outer building were not happy. But not being happy didn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t understand. Well, the others did. Among the people who were stationed here, several of them had survived the Akashic Sewer¡¯s breach, and one of them was Frequency-Of-Sunlight, who¡¯d fought the Old Gun directly and had lost a sibling to it. The Library team were aware of what the pillar was capable of, both in a standup fight and also in terms of turning dungeons inside out and flooding the surrounding area with hostile life. Vad shook his head at James, ignored the joke, and turned to the ratroach who was very carefully flipping through a slice of life manga that had been left on the table. ¡°Arrush, your boyfriend is being an idiot.¡± Arrush considered his response, several of his eyes flicking up away from his reading to look at Vad cautiously. He wasn¡¯t cold. He was wearing the armor that had been refitted with a series of blue orbs to fit him more comfortably than anything ever had, and it had padding on the inside, in addition to being incredibly heavy. Heavier since the Order¡¯s standard armor started including slotted ballistic plate. But he could guess at how someone without fur, and with nerve endings that were used to being comfortable, might find the clean air to be cold. Pushing the book away with one of his smaller paws so he didn¡¯t drip on it by accident, he tilted his head toward Vad. ¡°We are¡­ not dating.¡± He tried to cough in his throat again to clear it. ¡°I am working on¡­ myself. And James is working on¡­ being hit in the head less.¡± Arrush nodded to himself as he saw Vad choke on an abrupt laugh. His joke had worked. ¡°We can think about it when¡­ when we have less trauma. In both ways.¡± Part of James wanted to countermand the statement about how often he took unprotected hits to his face - he had mostly been joking when he was using that as an excuse after his latest tribulation. But the rest of him was just too busy finding Arrush¡¯s wry wit to be hilarious. And more than that, there was a feeling associated with it that he found as comfortable as being in a library. The feeling that they had all the time they needed to work stuff out, and that there wasn¡¯t any pressure. That even though he was an idiot and Arrush was struggling with being new to the world and both of them were fucked up in a variety of ways, that they could take their time with it all, as emotional equals. <| Corridor Filled : Bond Formed - Patience : Share - [Breath] : Vector - Recent Sight : One Corridor Established : Zero Corridors Empty |> And apparently Arrush felt the same way. James shared a content smile with the ratroach, before his brain caught something in the Clutter Ascent notification that had just sent itself through his thoughts. ¡°Wait, Breath?!¡± He muttered. ¡°Like¡­ how? Like from the Climb? Because¡­ Arrush, can we test this?¡± Arrush gave an equally confused nod, and the two of them tried to move just normal breathing back and forth between each other while James filled Vad in on what had happened. What didn¡¯t happen was anything else. It had nothing to do with normal breathing or blood oxygenation or lung capacity. But when James tried to move some of his Mountain breath into Arrush, it worked almost instantly. And without leaving him feeling exhausted and dizzy, either. And going over Arrush¡¯s dungeon imposed cap on the mana pool. ¡°This is¡­ useful?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know how.¡± ¡°Yeah, me neither.¡± James admitted. ¡°But I apparently do have a lot of head trauma, so I¡¯ll figure it out later. If nothing else, it does let one of us work as a battery for the other? Unless there¡¯s some unintended consequence that we¡¯ll learn about later. Which¡­ I mean, Mountain, probably, but Clutter Ascent doesn¡¯t tend to do stuff like that.¡± ¡°It is the best space.¡± Arrush quietly agreed, his claws flicking against themselves in idle thought. Vad, thoroughly derailed from being upset at James by this point, just let out a sigh. ¡°So, no Alanna or Momo tonight? Or¡­ uh¡­ what was Thought¡¯s name? TQ?¡± ¡°Momo¡¯s on a date with her girlfriend.¡± James started counting off on his fingers while he leaned back in the coarse padded library chair he¡¯d claimed. ¡°Alanna spent the day with her sisters, who I still haven¡¯t gotten to meet, but she was tired. TQ is camping.¡± ¡°¡­Camping where?¡± Vad asked. ¡°In a dungeon?¡± ¡°No, in a forest.¡± James deadpanned. ¡°Oregon has a bunch of public land that you can camp on, you know. I¡­ actually, joking aside, I assumed most states did. Does Texas not? It must. Whatever, the point is, some people who needed a break went camping, and TQ went with them because camracondas are people too and they need breaks.¡± ¡°I mean, I knew that.¡± Vad said. ¡°I know I ask stupid questions, but¡­¡± ¡°No, no, you don¡¯t. I¡¯ve just been too defensive.¡± James sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. ¡°I¡¯m just kinda waiting for when we run into some real problems with people hating our nonhuman members, and I¡¯m jumpy about it. You¡¯re fine. Anyway, they¡¯re all busy. And then, like, Anesh went back to visit his parents for the first time in a while - all of him for some reason that I assume is funny - and a chunk of our delvers are on a long Climb run right now, and we¡¯ve got everyone else scrambling to cover small things because some people are down with injuries or whatever. We¡¯re short on people is what I¡¯m saying.¡± Vad gave him a suspicious look as he pushed the book cart back against the end of a shelf to pretend that it had been that way the whole time. ¡°Should you actually be here?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James said with confidence. ¡°Because I heal really fast, especially with all the extra magic the Order has right now, and it¡¯s important that I keep getting better at anything I can. And I need the Order as a whole to be better, too. Because the next crisis that comes up, I¡¯m not going to fuck around with.¡± Shaking his head, Vad refrained from telling James that he was kind of a scary dude sometimes. Instead, he just checked his watch again. ¡°It¡¯s almost time.¡± He said, and James rocked forward to hop lightly to his feet, while Arrush gently closed what he was reading and stood with his joints popping as he did so. Anxiety was gone from James. Despite his resolution after the meeting earlier, he¡¯d done more than just rush straight here. He¡¯d spent a chunk of the day doing debriefings with survivors, both of the Underburbs and the coal plant that he and JP had swept through. And it had been¡­ hard. Very hard. Emotionally taxing, even if he knew it was important. People didn¡¯t like being told that their families didn¡¯t remember them. Even when he showed some of the coal plant employees, they didn¡¯t believe it, and James had needed to intervene in a couple cases. About half of those people had demanded memory wipes when they¡¯d caught on that the Order might be able to do that, but James had held off on it; their growing population of therapists had an alternate idea that might work better, and he told everyone so. But that still didn¡¯t mean it was a magical fix to the whole situation, and that it wasn¡¯t hard. Sienna had been the hardest. The poor fucking girl was still healing from her injury, and might have permanent nerve damage from it unless they could find some magic for her. But more than that, she¡¯d seen far more death than any early twenties college student deserved to. Watching so many people, including one of her friends, die in front of her had left her despondent and unwilling to respond to most things. James included. He¡¯d sat with her for a while. Told her that they would try to help her however they could, and that she had a lot of options, when she was ready to talk about them. But ultimately, she didn¡¯t say anything to him, and he left the Order¡¯s hospital in emotional turmoil. Here, though? Now? Standing in front of the doors to a dungeon? This was easy by comparison. This was what James was good at. He could figure out how to bring back the dead and take away the deeper hurts later. Right now, he just had to focus on staying alert, staying alive, and uncovering little treasures. ¡°Ready check.¡± James said, and they started doing a quick once over of their own and each other¡¯s gear. Armor, recently upgraded. A variety of tools from flashlights to lockpicks. Several varieties of potions and one variety of magic coffee, though no new brews yet. Shield bracers, stealth earrings, overly dramatic plated shin guards. Hatchets and knives and sidearms. Helmets secured on heads, Arrush¡¯s with special space inside for his antenna. Necklaces of blue orbs. James helped Arrush tighten one of the straps on the back of his armor, in a tiny spot where none of his arms could reach and James had to assume itched constantly. Vad zipped up the bag with their medical supplies and shouldered it. Arrush partially unfolded the rolling cart they were bringing. ¡°Let¡¯s go find some books.¡± James declared, pushing open the door and taking point. Ignoring Vad reminding him in an exasperated tone that none of the magic in the Ceaseless Stacks had yet to come from a book. _____ ¡°Oh, this is easy, this is French for ¡®life¡¯!¡± James said as he spotted a band of mobile ink making a clover loop on the information desk. It didn¡¯t take more than a few seconds for the ink to shoot up off the surface and onto his palm, moving to form something like a bracelet around his wrist. ¡°You know, at this rate, I¡¯m gonna end up covered in decorations before I ever get a tattoo on purpose.¡± He commented to Arrush. The ratroach snapped his multitude of eyes up from where he had stabbed a pair of combat knives through something that looked like an encyclopedia before it could bite anyone¡¯s hand off. ¡°What¡­ would you mark your skin with?¡± He asked. ¡°Camraconda.¡± James sighed as he pulled two different pieces of armor back to check on the moving words written on his skin. ¡°I know, don¡¯t look at me like that. I tried to have this conversation with Alanna, and I literally cannot think of anything except different permutations of camracondas. What would you get tattooed if¡­ is that an option? Can you tattoo chitin?¡± ¡°Keeka.¡± Arrush said instantly. James gave a nod, mouth moving without words before he found what he wanted to say. ¡°Okay, yeah, that¡¯s a pretty good one. I don¡¯t think that¡¯d work as well for Alanna or Anesh, on my end? Like, there¡¯s a finite amount of detail a tattoo can have. I think. Or maybe not? I don¡¯t know that much about tattoos. Oh! There¡¯s something I can learn without magic! Sarah will be happy with me.¡± ¡°Why doesn¡¯t this person want you to learn things with magic?¡± Vad asked as he crawled out from under the desk they were searching. ¡°Magic is great. Does she not know that magic is great?¡± It wasn¡¯t an unfair assessment. Though James had to admit, he was misrepresenting Sarah a little bit. She¡¯d just said that she thought he should have a hobby beyond dungeon delving. And to be fair, he did. It was just that all his hobbies enhanced, or used, his various dungeon magics. But he didn¡¯t feel like explaining a sort of nuanced personal social life to Vad right now, since the trio were on a delve, and while James enjoyed a good bout of banter, he didn¡¯t want it to actually begin to seriously distract from staying alert. They¡¯d moved into the Stacks in a circuitous route, following the outer wall from the entrance door for quite a ways before trying one of the paths through the ceiling high metal shelves. The idea had been to find one that had, if not no hostile books, at least fewer of the creatures of snapping venomous teeth and long bookmark tongues. And it had sort of worked; they¡¯d been accosted on the way, but not by nearly the numbers they faced when they just walked straight in. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! It did seem like it wasn¡¯t possible to go far enough that you could skip the outer shell of the Library¡¯s defenses. The main reason they¡¯d decided to try one of the aisles was because they¡¯d reached a barrier of white drywall and a low curved ceiling that blocked off any further progression. The group could have simply turned back and tried the other direction, but they were mostly exploring and were prepared for a fight. It was a calculated risk to try here. As with a lot of smaller dungeon life forms, the books folded easily against targets that were both ready to fight back, and also armored. And James, Vad, and Arrush had made their way into the Library pulling a cart that already had twenty small yellow orbs in it. Now, they were keeping their voices down, and their ears open, as they looked through the stacks of books and papers, along with odd framed photos and old library cards, sitting out on the information desk that held a position of authority in this open space. There were stairs behind it going up, and another set of curved steps leading down to another landing with a ring shaped desk covered in computers that lit up the dim area with their flickering screens. It wasn¡¯t quite the same as the spot they¡¯d explored the first few times in, being maybe a half a kilometer of walking away, but it was familiar. ¡°I cannot, to save my life, find a password here.¡± Vad admitted as he tapped a stack of library cards on the desk. James was also prepared to give up; he¡¯d been trying to figure out if there was some kind of secret code on the picture frames or something. They really should have brought TQ for this; the camraconda was better at codebreaking puzzles than anyone here. Arrush wasn¡¯t even pretending to try, he was just sniffing the air and looking for another hostile text to stab. ¡°Do we just go downstairs and try there?¡± Vad asked. The beige computers, composed of smooth rectangular boxes, were¡­ weird. Technically, their components followed normal physics. Except for one exception, which no one in the Order could explain yet; they fundamentally did not give a shit about being plugged into things. Either their own components like monitors or keyboards, or power sources. If any of them had network cards, they probably wouldn¡¯t need to be plugged into the internet either, but they didn¡¯t, and installing new parts in them didn¡¯t work. Yet. Research wanted more samples. But, critically, they needed samples they could actually work with, which meant they needed samples that weren¡¯t locked with puzzle passwords. There was just one problem, James figured as he looked down over the dark wooden railing to see the strange light where the flickering wrought iron lamps mingled with the white glow of the screens. It was a problem that came in the form of a melody, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end with an anxious chill. ¡°I hear singing.¡± He muttered. ¡°Mmh. Bard.¡± Vad said, stepping up to join him, and peeking over. Neither man stuck their head or arms over the edge, Vad from experience in this dungeon, and James because he just kind of assumed that when someone said ¡®tomehawks¡¯ that he should follow their lead on where he put his limbs. ¡°Do you¡­ want to try fighting it?¡± ¡°Only three of us?¡± Arrush mused. ¡°No.¡± James glanced back at him, watching as Arrush¡¯s ancillary arms slid his knives back into the spots on his armor. He was getting better at that. Better at a lot of things, really. Even the way he talked was becoming steadier. Though he still felt the skin around his eyes heating up and flushing green as he felt like James was looking for an explanation. ¡°Too¡­ fair.¡± He explained as he wiped the back of a gloved paw on the corner of his muzzle. James nodded. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t feel like getting in a fair fight with one of those. Actually, Vad, what¡¯s the worst that can happen in here for loud noises? Because if it comes into view, I can just shoot it.¡± The other delver snapped an unhappy gaze around on James in an instant. ¡°No.¡± He bit off the word. ¡°No gunshots unless it¡¯s a last resort. Anything too loud, and it attracts everything. Simon had to teleport us out last time, and did you know that teleporting out of dungeons causes week long migraines?¡± ¡°¡­no? Does it?¡± James asked. ¡°I mean, it makes me throw up, usually, but¡­ I mean, it kinda gives me a headache.¡± ¡°I hate you. Don¡¯t shoot anything.¡± Vad pushed back from the railing. ¡°We can go upstairs, and circle back toward the door. Keeps us close to the exit, and we might find another information desk or something.¡± ¡°Good plan.¡± James agreed as he idly tapped various pieces of gear he was wearing to double check that they were still there. ¡°Arrush?¡± The ratroach nodded in agreement, eyes flicking up to scan the balcony above them and the wrought iron chandelier overhead that twisted in a warped circle. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s move. We¡¯ll secure the top first, then bring the cart up.¡± The three of them split up, James taking one side of the curving staircase while Vad followed Arrush up the other. When they were three quarters of the way up, they shared a glance across the open air between them, and nodded, before taking the last set of steps at the same time and cleared into the next landing ready to fight. What they weren¡¯t ready for was to find a globe. It was massive, and James¡¯ eyes widened to an almost equal size as he realized that they¡¯d been fucking tricked. Some kind of illusion, either a trick of the eye with the surrounding shelves and the curved iron bars overhead that led to no skylights but still let cold light in, or a more literal illusion that just screened for the thing. The globe was made of granite and turquoise, though the continents and oceans weren¡¯t Earth, and it sat in the middle of the landing, suspended in midair over a small tile pool. Towers of books stacked five feet tall were dotted around the area, though the small pool of water under the globe had a trio of verticals fountains in it, and it was clear that the spray from them had eroded the closer stacks over time, as they were closer to paper sludge than books. The whole globe setup was beautiful. It even had its own cloud system. It came in the form of a black swirling mass, a multi limbed creature of flowing ink, with a disc of a head like a massive coin. Unblinking orbs of grey smoke sat embedded in the black substance of that head, rippling as they watched James and his fellow delvers surmount the stairs. James held an arm out to the others as the thing watched him, and slowly, achingly slowly, took a step backward down the stairs. His foot didn¡¯t drop like it should have. Instead, his back thumped against something solid, and our of the corners of his eyes he saw that he was backing up against a row of shelves, and not the staircase he had just been standing on. His perspective had shifted without notice, and he could see Arrush and Vad stumbling against a pile of books on the other side of the orb, also far out of position. The creature crawling across the surface of the giant floating globe slowed as it turned its attention to James. Eyes undoubtedly focusing on him. That huge head rising slightly like a radar dish to look ¡®up¡¯ from the surface toward where he was standing. ¡°Hi.¡± James said unsteadily, licking his lips as he fell back on his most used talent; running his mouth. ¡°We¡¯re just passing through, if that¡¯s okay. Love the globe. I don¡¯t suppose we can be frien-¡° The thing started screaming, smoke streaming from its eye sockets in explosive trails as it howled at James. He heard Vad swearing from the other side of the globe, but it was almost drowned out by the overlapping voices of the creature. ¡°Step left!¡± Zhu¡¯s voice, clear and easy, cut across his thoughts, and James obeyed. Just before a black spike put itself through the end of the bookshelf he¡¯d backed into. ¡°Move!¡± The navigator directed him, and James obeyed, picking up into a jog as he circled the creature. It was still screaming, holding position up on its globe. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t screaming at all, but there were four small balls of black ink that were hovering around it¡¯s back that were screaming. James could make out individual words, but it was too loud to hear whole sentences. The voices all sounded human, but like four radio broadcasts all turned up to full volume and overlapping each other. One of the voices went quiet, then another spike tried to hit him, but he was already past where it was aimed. James kept running, trusting Zhu to nudge him when he needed to course correct, and it didn¡¯t take him long to make a wide circle around the globe and over to where Vad and Arrush were ducked behind and overturned library cart. ¡°So, this isn¡¯t great.¡± James tried to say, and found he had to repeat himself at a shout to be heard over the screaming. ¡°That¡¯s gonna get noticed!¡± A dip in the screams preceded a spike thunking off their defense, and another one punching into the wood of the floor a few feet to their left. ¡°Back downstairs?¡± Vad asked, gesturing to punctuate his words. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what it¡¯s yelling.¡± ¡°Questions.¡± Arrush couldn¡¯t actually yell. He had to lean in close to James and rasp out the word in his ear, in a motion that might have felt intimate if they weren¡¯t armored and being shot at. ¡°It is asking things.¡± ¡°Can you make out the questions?¡± James asked curiously, but Arrush shook his head. He could hear it, sort of, but it was all a mess and unclear. ¡°Okay. Downstairs. Wait for the next volley, then Vad, go first.¡± He peeked over the cart while Vad tried to get into a crouch without exposing his back. The creature had circled around to their side of the globe, and James watched as one of the rippling basketball sized orbs hovering over its back stilled, along with one of the shouting voices, and then launched a spike their way as he ducked back down. The shot might have taken his head off if he¡¯d been slower. The thing was getting either more accurate, or faster. ¡°Vad, go!¡± He slapped the man as two other spikes hit the cart, one punching a finger length through the metal with a squeal of sound. Vad didn¡¯t hesitate, bolting for the stairs, a hand grabbing the railing and hauling himself downward as another shot tried to take his arm off. But he was down over the edge in a flash, and out of the creature¡¯s range. ¡°Alright, Arrush, you nexxxxt¡­¡± James lost control of the word as he watched, thirty feet away, Vad come running out from behind a bookshelf on a completely different side of the room than the stairs he¡¯d just gone down. ¡°Fuck!¡± He barked out as the creature, which seemed to have been waiting for it, opened up with a trio of inky spikes. James flicked his hand out, and made a grabbing motion; a kinetic assistance to his use of [Move Person], as he rapidly repositioned Vad five feet to the left. ¡°Can¡¯t run.¡± Arrush¡¯s voice shook, the idea of being caged anywhere sending the ratroach into an abrupt panic. ¡°Yeah. Okay, new plan.¡± James drew his pistol, the Walther fitting comfortably in his palm. He glanced at Arrush and gave a grin. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can leave once it¡¯s dead.¡± He offered comfortingly. Then he popped his eyes over the edge of their cover just long enough to spot where the floating orbs were, and what direction the creature was moving. Just as fast, James ducked back down, then poked his hand around the left side of their overturned cart, tilted the gun exactly where his Aim told him to, and opened fire. It was an odd paradox that gunshots made everything quieter. James only hit three of the four orbs, but as soon as he did so, there was only one screaming voice left. He and Arrush rolled out from behind the cart as the others died, and started rushing the globe. ¡°-the population of Kuala Lumpur?!¡± The last orb was screaming. The others were looking like they were torn open bags, dripping black liquid pouring down from them at a weird angle compared to where the creature was perched. Ink dripping to the floor, the rippling stopped. James had a suspicion they¡¯d be reforming soon enough, though. He also had a perverse impulse to yell back at the orb asking the question. ¡°Like, one and a half million, probably!¡± His voice came just at the pause, when he could see the thing preparing to fire another spike their way. Zhu was even giving him a dodge arrow for it. And then it stopped. Just went still, the last few ripples seeming to fold it back from being and orb and into a cube as it turned into a static silent object. There was no time to consider what that meant. Instead, James let Arrush get some distance ahead of him, until the ratroach bent his digitigrade legs down into a sliding crouch just as the creature overhead was raising a leg like an elephant¡¯s foot off the globe to lash out at them. Then he triggered [Move Person], twice in succession. Once to boost Arrush¡¯s jump, another time to send himself up onto the top of the globe. Arrush landed on the creature¡¯s back, and started stabbing instantly, while James got to feel vindicated as he watched two of the orbs reform, pulling their splattered guts back together over the monster¡¯s back and starting to scream again. He shot one of them, and felt a rustle of feathers inside his armor as Zhu manifested and shouted back an answer to the other question that James hadn¡¯t actually caught. Then he turned his pistol on the creature itself that Arrush was dug into the back of. It was thrashing wildly, though not letting go of the globe. Inky blood poured down from the wounds the ratroach was putting in it, and as it started to slide down, James saw Vad charge forward and leap up to grab one of its legs and yank it downward with his body weight. He held his fire, breathing heavily from the ache in his head, a pressure behind his eyes from using a blue orb power too much too fast. Then he made it worse by doing it again to catch Vad as the thrashing of the creature flung the younger man through the air, with James plucking him back to the ground and zeroing his momentum before he crashed into something heavy and sharp. Then Arrush finished landing enough stabs that the monster seized up, the orbs it had created popping with wet splats, and its grip on the globe failed as it slid off the surface and smashed into the side of the tile below. A wave of water from where its back half landed in the pool washing out over the wood floor and sodden books. Things got quiet again, and James, suddenly aware of how high up he was and how unstable his footing felt, crouched down, holstering his gun with slow movements as he spread his hands out to try to steady himself on the round granite surface he had thought it was a good idea to put himself on. He tried to gently look over the edge, and saw Arrush shaking himself as he waded out of the pool of muddled water. ¡°Uh¡­ help?¡± He called down. ¡°How the fuck did you even get up there?¡± Vad asked, the adrenaline he must be reeling from making his voice shaky, even as he tried to quip. ¡°Also that was easier than I though it-¡° ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Arrush cut him off, as he tried to shake water out of his fur, unsuccessfully. He turned out to be right on the tempting fate. Within the three minutes it took James to recover from his headache and vertigo, an uncoordinated swarm of a couple dozen living toothy books came flooding into the open space, crawling along shelves and hanging light fixtures to try to assault the delvers. Arrush and Vad made short work of them, before James could even work up the courage to drop down off the globe. When he was back on the ground, and helping to collect the dropped dungeon rewards, he tried to talk about it. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I can get into high stakes fights, banter with the FBI, and live in a world with teleporting assassins, but I can¡¯t handle a ten foot drop without freaking out.¡± ¡°That¡¯s more than ten feet.¡± Vad said, looking up at the top of the globe as he tried to help James roll the big creature¡¯s body over so they could pull the orb that had dropped out from under it. ¡°But I get what you mean. I¡¯m afraid of the ocean.¡± ¡°Like, in the abstract?¡± James asked. ¡°Or deep water specifically? Because if so, I¡¯m not gonna ask you to check the fountain.¡± ¡°Why would¡­¡± Vad glanced at James with worry. ¡°Is this a dungeon thing? Is that going to be super deep?¡± ¡°No.¡± Arrush said, wading through it as he came to rejoin them. ¡°He is¡­ joking.¡± Then he held out one of his claws, most of the black ink blood washed off of it, and handed James an orb he¡¯d pulled out of the center of the little pool. The big beast, for all that it was weird, had just dropped a larger yellow. But, just like James had been told a month ago by a strange guide creature in this dungeon, there was something in the water. And now they had their first example of a green orb from the Ceaseless Stacks. ¡°Alright.¡± James said. ¡°I hurt. Arrush is wet. Vad is¡­ Vad are you okay?¡± ¡°No, but I¡¯m not hurt.¡± ¡°Vad¡¯s fine. Zhu is¡­ Zhu¡¯s actually fine. But still. Do we want to stick to the original plan, and just cut back across this level back toward the door? Maybe not walk into another one of these illusion traps?¡± James asked. They discussion about it was pretty quick. The fight had been brutal, but fast, and hadn¡¯t worn them down. They still had stockpiles of all their emergency items, and their Status Quo gear was mostly sitting at full charge. The most they¡¯d expended was a few of James¡¯ bullets. So they kept moving. _____ The return trip was a lot more placid. There were still fang filled books that would jump them sometimes, but they were alert, and nothing actually got through. They picked up a few more word tattoos, though they hadn¡¯t brought the computer with a map on it that they¡¯d salvaged a few delves ago, so they didn¡¯t know where to go to turn them into magic items. James and Vad had a long what-if conversation about if breaking the little magic figures that the words could be turned into would produce a new type of orb. They agreed, eventually, that it probably would, but spent too long workshopping color and effect with basically no evidence. Arrush stayed out of it, wisely. When they crossed by another landing, Arrush and Vad had darted in while James covered them, searching the semicircle of a librarian¡¯s desk as quietly as they could, and quickly coming up with a password for the cubic beige computer sitting there. They didn¡¯t check what was on it, just loaded it and all the accessories into the cart. James figured someone would especially be interested in the speakers that were just three inch square cubes with no actual apparent way to emit sound. They collected a dozen more small yellow orbs, with Arrush getting a rank in golden retrievers, and Vad picking up one in a very specific regional variety of sparrow. They also added a book to their cart that was titled ¡°Trees and Their Known Conspiracies¡±, which James just thought was funny and planned to show someone. It wasn¡¯t actually full of anything useful, he just liked the cover. The Ceaseless Stacks seemed content to let them pass with minimal resistance, overall. Just the smell of dusty paper and the constant visual texture of beige metal mixed with old oak for the shelves. Dim light that was somehow always enough to read by, and strange titles that meant nothing. At one point moving through a cramped set of bookshelves, they had to pause when a footstool blocked their way forward. Vad had started to turn them around, but Arrush stopped him with a cracked grin on his muzzle as James had knelt down and started talking to the footstool in a calm, soothing tone. Eventually, he stood back up, and patted it on the ¡®shell¡¯, as the footstool popped up on cardboard legs and waddled itself down the aisle ahead of them to get out of the way. Then it kept following them. ¡°You sure you wanna come with us, buddy?¡± James asked it when they were back at the door to the dungeon. The crab like entity looked past him, cardboard eye stalks peering out into a different library, that looked¡­ different. It had been trailing after them for a while as they collected orbs and moving words, listening as James talked softly with Arrush and Zhu tried to explain why he didn¡¯t have any of his own blue powers to Vad. James wasn¡¯t sure if the stepstool thought it was being kidnapped, but he didn¡¯t want to accidentally drag it out of its home if it didn¡¯t want to go. Then it cheerfully perked up, and scuttled past them all, leading the way back to mundane Earth. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s adorable, but he cannot stay with me.¡± Vad said, following. James shook his head and smiled as he and Arrush trailed after the librarian. Weirdly enough, this had been a pretty relaxing evening. Maybe the little crab thing could make friends with some shellaxies back at the Lair. Chapter 240 ¡°Figures. All my life, I¡¯ve fought against imperialism. And now, I am the expanding Russian front!¡± -Babylon 5, Ivonova- _____ Mid afternoon of the next day, after an amount of sleep that didn¡¯t quite feel right, a breakfast that made him feel like needed another six hour long nap, and petting a friendly dog at his door, James returned to the Lair. And then, once there, he found he had very little to do. Everything he¡¯d told Vad last night before they¡¯d left Texas for a library that existed beyond the boundaries of both time and sensible book titles was still true, though. A lot of the people that James normally spent time with, delving or otherwise, just weren¡¯t around. Alanna had dropped by to say hi last night, saying something about helping her sister¡¯s move, but James had been sleeping hard enough he only barely processed it happened. All four iterations of Anesh was still in a place called Colchester, which James technically recognized as a real city in England, and yet, couldn¡¯t read the name properly to save his life. A good chunk of their delvers were also out with injuries for one reason or another. Either going through the process of purging the wizard plague, or just not allowed to be active until cuts and bruises healed, or, in one case, waiting for their hand to heal from where a potion being tested had caused a few dozen slivers of glass to go into them. Everyone else¡­ had jobs. Recovery, who James didn¡¯t really know a lot of people in anyway, kept working to turn magic into help. Currently, they were working with the people that were getting pulled out of the overgrown coal plants that had been old Priority Earth attack targets. Response was working on settling into their role as a kind of broad-spectrum help-provider, but with much less focus on the vigilantism. Research¡­ Research did some stuff. James conceded that they probably did quite a lot more than just identifying magic items, but he was having trouble keeping up with everything weird and wonderful in his life when it was just him and Anesh stealing a magic coffee machine from a single dungeon. At this point, if you told him that Research had constructed some kind of Mars base, James would believe it. And then ask to go there. He was pretty sure that wasn¡¯t what they were doing, though. But the fact that it was a guess and not a certainty kind of spoke to how chaotically busy Research was. It wasn¡¯t like the members of the Order didn¡¯t have a lot of downtime; between green orbs sometimes giving extra time or speeding up tasks, and just the nature of having a collective that valued personal time, people who worked in any of the Order¡¯s three buildings got to take a lot of time to themselves. But James had noticed that people often didn¡¯t make use of it, and managing burnout was one of the things on Karen¡¯s Big List Of Issues To Address. She hadn¡¯t labeled it that way, but James had when he¡¯d found it on the server. And even when people were taking time off, they were often doing it with other people who were part of the Order, and talking about Order things, or just experimenting - or playing - with magic on their own. It was a broad set of circumstances that encouraged a very social culture, even if that socialization was somewhat fluid. Right now, these circumstances, mixed with everyone who wasn¡¯t around to give him anything else to do, had led to James hanging out in the Lair¡¯s residential basement, with Arrush and Keeka. ¡°You look happy.¡± James said with an unrepressed smile as he joined them in the courtyard in front of the spatially folded apartment complex. The place wasn¡¯t finished, yet. Some asshole had interrupted the process of turning a sub basement into a flourishing garden by teleporting a bunch of infected victims into the Lair, and while it had been a week since, things had come up that left it a work in progress, being added to bit by bit instead of being done in a day as a large group project. Still, there was more greenery down here than most basements ever saw, and James found the two ratroaches on one of the stone benches tucked behind a crescent of bamboo and ivy that broke up the flat expanse of the space. The bench was interesting on its own. To date, no one had found an absorbed blue power for either making furniture, or moving stone that wasn¡¯t pavement around, so when they wanted to make garden furniture that worked for a multi-species community, they had to do it the hard way. Some people, like Bill, had taken the process as a challenge, which led to a semi-circle bench of poured and smoothed concrete that had ramps on each end and a trio of bowl shaped depressions spaced along its length for camracondas to curl up in without worrying about falling off. Someone, probably a camraconda, had rapidly realized that their underground garden didn¡¯t get rain, and had filled those spaces with throw pillows. It was very charming, in a kind of fairy garden way. And right now, Arrush was sitting on the bench, while Keeka had half curled himself in one of those softer depressions and half thrown himself across his boyfriend¡¯s lap. The smaller and newly reforged ratroach looked up at James words. ¡°He does!¡± Keeka exclaimed, poking two of his soft claws from different arms up at Arrush¡¯s chin. ¡°Look at him! He looks so good.¡± ¡°He did¡­ not mean that.¡± Arrush tried to tilt his head in a way that Keeka couldn¡¯t poke him, and found it hard with the new flexibility on his boyfriend¡¯s joints. His muzzle was cracked in what looked like a permanent goofy grin, though he did shift to wipe a line of his corrosive drool on the sleeve of his hoodie. Keeka wasn¡¯t, for once, wearing a hoodie. His arms, all four of them, were exposed to the pleasant air of the courtyard, a simple refitted tshirt and his familiar black skirt covering the rest of his slim form of black fur and chitin. ¡°He did not mean that at first.¡± Keeka corrected Arrush. ¡°But now he is thinking it, and so I am correct.¡± He tipped his snout up into the air, poking into Arrush¡¯s chin in a smoothly affectionate motion. His voice was bright and airy, excited and just a touch feminine. James laughed to hear him speak so easily. ¡°Okay, I mean, he¡¯s got me there.¡± He said, settling himself a little awkwardly on the large decorative rock in the middle of the small space. They weren¡¯t exactly concealed here; there were gaps in the bamboo, the park wasn¡¯t finished, and there were frequently people moving by from the apartments to the exits, but it felt separated and cozy anyway. It was also cast in early spring sunlight, despite being twenty-ish feet underground, which was nice. ¡°I am now thinking about that. But no, I did mean you Keeka. You look¡­ complete.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± The ratroach twisted like a snake to roll over Arrush¡¯s lap and face James. Then his voice lost some of the playfulness. ¡°Thank you.¡± He repeated. ¡°Do we say that enough? Thank you. For all of this.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡± James winced, rubbing at one of his arms as he shifted his ass against the rock he was trying to find a comfortable spot on. Arrush made a noise that was probably a laugh. ¡°He¡­ doesn¡¯t like being¡­ thanked.¡± He reminded Keeka. ¡°Even¡­¡± the tan furred ratroach trailed off, staring down at his partner with unmistakable love in his eyes. Shaking his head, Keeka inverted one of his back arms and pointed it at James almost accusingly. ¡°Bad!¡± He said, adding to the sense James got that he was being judged somewhat. ¡°Abdicating credit is dismissive to the feelings of the people you have helped!¡± ¡°I¡­ okay, I am¡­¡± James held up a hand, dipping his head and pressing his eyes closed as he tried to make his brain catch up through sheer force of will. ¡°Sorry, I am really not used to you talking like that. It¡¯s nice.¡± ¡°It is.¡± Arrush agreed instantly. James¡¯ smile returned. ¡°Yeah, it is. But also it¡¯s throwing me off. Also where¡¯d you pick that wisdom up from?¡± ¡°Therapy!¡± Keeka brought his arm back, the joint making a slight pop as he reoriented it toward his front so that he could wrap it around one of Arrush¡¯s legs. ¡°Speaking is easier now, yes. So many parts no longer hurt. Breathing is easier, so I can say longer sentences. Moving is painless, so I can form larger words. Every part works together. And all from you and Alanna choosing to ask us.¡± Keeka blinked his eyes in a cascading sequence, small dots of glowing tears forming in them, but not burning. ¡°You should let me thank you, because I think it matters.¡± James looked away, staring up at the stacked rows of back patios of the apartments that were visible over the plants. He didn¡¯t quite know what to say to that, but¡­ ¡°okay.¡± He settled on. ¡°Can¡¯t really argue with that. And I guess helping people is what I want to be doing anyway.¡± ¡°He is very clever.¡± Arrush added, running one of his claws down Keeka¡¯s back, his partner making a noise somewhere between a squeak and a chirp that James had never heard before. ¡°So¡­¡± James paused. ¡°I have a weird feeling that this might be awkward to ask, but, what about you?¡± He asked Arrush anyway. ¡°Are you planning to follow Keeka into a new body?¡± It was interesting to James to watch Arrush go through a whole process of tension, anxiety, consideration, and then an actual answer that may or may not be true to what he was feeling. ¡°I¡­ will.¡± Arrush said, staring back down at Keeka. ¡°Eventually. I am not¡­ ready yet. But I will be.¡± He said the last part with the kind of conviction that most people reserved for swearing vengeance on their mortal enemies in the middle of a thunderstorm on a mountain peak. ¡°Al-also¡­ there are others. Ahead of me.¡± James poked at his skulljack link, getting his brain to work through the systems of input and output until he could find the right file that a mostly untrained human like him could actually read. ¡°Mmh. Yeah, Ishah has their change coming up next, huh? And¡­ Ann?¡± ¡°She was¡­ hurt.¡± Arrush said. ¡°Yeah, I mean, I knew she got injured, I just didn¡¯t realize it was¡­ huh. I¡¯ll ask her about it when I see her next.¡± James felt guilty. Ann had gotten hurt temporarily confiscating the teleporter that was used to save his life. And while that did somewhat mean that she was contributing to a global utopia built on the back of magic¡­ He didn¡¯t want anyone to get hurt. A stupid and childish desire, maybe. But still. James sighed and closed down the file for upcoming shaper substance transformations, and promised to send Ann some kind of get well soon gift. As soon as he figured out what she liked. He could ask Nate, but Nate was busy, and would probably be wrong too. ¡°I just realized I know literally nothing about Ann.¡± James said, staring up at the ceiling and the skylight that let the sun in through the ground. ¡°Which is kinda weird. She¡¯s been here a while.¡± ¡°She lives here. And will be coming to the barbecue on Saturday. You can come too!¡± Keeka excitedly extended an invite. It was tempting, but also, group socialization sounded exhausting. ¡°I don¡¯t live here.¡± James pointed out. Arrush and Keeka both just stared at him, with a mix of confusion, and disbelief. ¡°Okay, fine. I¡¯ll come to the thing.¡± He relented. ¡°But I¡¯m gonna hide in the bushes and avoid people.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I do all the time.¡± Another voice cut into the space that was semi-isolated by growing bamboo. James tilted his head back to see Ben walking up and leaning against his sitting rock. ¡°Hey.¡± ¡°Hey. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Honestly, nothing.¡± Ben said with an easy shrug. ¡°But I saw you guys hanging out and wanted to say hi.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, hi.¡± James nodded. ¡°I guess it doesn¡¯t surprise me that you live down here, actually. I really need to get an apartment.¡± ¡°That, and I¡¯m helping Bill and Mars bring dirt down. JP told me I have to take a break from rogue stuff for a day. So I¡¯m doing this.¡± Ben glanced up and gave a friendly wave to Arrush and Keeka. ¡°Making myself useful.¡± Arrush made a noise like a wet growl, while Keeka gave Ben a small wave back. ¡°Hello! We do not like you.¡± He said with the same happy tone his remade voice had been in this whole time. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­¡± Ben straightened up, looking like he was unsure how to respond to that. ¡°That¡¯s kind of novel. I haven¡¯t heard that since high school.¡± James sighed. ¡°Ben.¡± He chastised the designed-for-infiltration dungeon life form, who swore briefly as he realized his slip. ¡°Okay, can I¡­ can I take a guess at what¡¯s going on here?¡± Arrush gave him a motion that James realized was a shrug with five different arms. ¡°Um¡­ wait, I just realized it could be one of two things. Is it that the first time Ben met us he was lying, and never apologized?¡± James asked Arrush directly. ¡°Hey, I did!¡± Ben protested, worriedly on the defensive. Arrush, though, just shook his triangular head with a soft creaking of chitin. ¡°Not¡­ to me. But not that. It is¡­ silly.¡± Arrush actually looked more embarrassed than angry. Which caused James to take a second look at Keeka, who seemed actually irate. It was a bit hard to gauge ratroach emotions, but Keeka had remade himself with eyes that sparkled and a muzzle that twisted in expression without pain or thought to it. So he was pretty clear to read. ¡°Okay. Then it¡¯s because of what you are.¡± James said. ¡°¡®Scuse me?¡± Ben¡¯s glare transformed to a scrunched up confused visage rapidly. ¡°Wait, what? Because I¡¯m¡­ you know¡­¡± ¡°Normal.¡± Arrush said it like a curse. At that, Ben stopped abruptly, unfolded his arms, stopped scratching along the colored lines of his polo shirt like he could somehow draw something useful out of the pattern, and drooped. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ normal?¡± He asked quietly. ¡°I think,¡± James said, ¡°that what Arrush means is that you not only pass for baseline human, but that there might be a little jealousy that you just walked out of your dungeon, got on an international flight without even trying, came to our home, and started acting like you were meant to be here. And that everyone was cool with it.¡± ¡°I¡­ but I¡­¡± Ben took a halting step back, looking like he was caught in a panic. Dealing with a dungeon creation¡¯s anxiety attack wasn¡¯t actually what James had had in mind when he¡¯d come to visit today. But he tried not to sigh, and motioned next to his rock. ¡°Ben, sit. Take deep breaths.¡± He ordered before looking back at the duo on the bench. ¡°Keeka, try not to be mean. Ben isn¡¯t trying to be dismissive or an asshole.¡± Keeka started, sitting up from Arrush¡¯s lap and curling his tails around himself in the pillowed seat that he¡¯d claimed. ¡°I am being mean?¡± He asked, sounding smaller than before. Arrush started to reach out to him, but Keeka dipped his head, and looked at Ben, slumped against a decorative rock on the concrete floor of their modified basement. ¡°Oh. I am being mean. Oh no, that was not what I meant!¡± ¡°¡®S fine.¡± Ben muttered, making a gesture that might have been meant to be waving it off. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ look fine¡­¡± Arrush rasped at him. James was watching as Ben shrugged, but then didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°I think¡­¡± he said slowly, ¡°I mean, okay, I get where this is coming from, right? Ben, I know this isn¡¯t exactly uplifting, but you get why a lot of the ratroaches might be a little envious of you, yeah?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, I just didn¡¯t think.¡± Ben sighed. ¡°Fuck, I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°I am also sorry.¡± Keeka said. ¡°It is easy to think you are not hurt.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ben nodded, his breathing steadying, and James watched as Arrush also untensed and shifted his position slightly so that he could lean on his boyfriend a little. ¡°It¡¯s actually really hard to tell if I¡¯m hurt. In general, I mean? Because I¡¯m¡­ It¡¯s¡­ sorry, I dunno if talking about this is rude or something.¡± ¡°Curious now.¡± Arrush grumbled, scratching one of his ancillary claws at the base of some of his antenna. ¡°And I¡­ won¡¯t be upset.¡± ¡°Yeah, I also kind of want to know more about you, actually.¡± James said. ¡°Like, from a purely curious standpoint, you¡¯re the only member of your species we¡¯ve even met.¡± ¡°As far as-¡° James was already rolling his eyes. ¡°As far as we know yes, thank you. But dude, you don¡¯t even know half your own biology.¡± Thunking his head against the decorative rock in a way that made James wince, Ben sighed. ¡°It¡¯s true. The injury thing¡­ it¡¯s not just emotional hurt. It¡¯s any hurt. You know, I tripped once during a tactics training exercise? Nate was doing his drill sergeant impression, and I thought that he was trying to teach me some kind of lesson about pushing through pain or something, cause he kept yelling at me to get up and keep moving with the squad. Planner had to step in, because I kept flickering up on their mental schedule for hospital space. No one could tell I was bleeding out.¡± ¡°Holy shit.¡± James whispered. ¡°I think it¡¯s because of what I was made to be.¡± Ben kept talking, holding a hand out and staring at the back of it. His voice was almost casual now, which¡­ it was hard for the others to tell if that was because he was fine, or because they couldn¡¯t tell he wasn¡¯t. ¡°I don¡¯t actually know, obviously. But I can make anyone see me as a friend. Force it if I need to. Sometimes I wonder, if Arrush had been the first person to run into me in the Climb, would I look like you?¡± Ben dropped his arm and looked at Arrush and Keeka. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if I can change now. But I do know that people don¡¯t like to see their friends hurt. So, you know¡­¡± ¡°So they don¡¯t see you hurt.¡± Keeka had brought all four of his hands around to a single point, fidgeting with his digits in an organic loop. ¡°I want to say sorry again, but better. I did not realize, you are like us more than I thought.¡± ¡°Eh. All things considered, you probably got the short end of the stick.¡± Ben shrugged. ¡°Also I did technically lie to your boyfriend and never apologized. So, sorry about that Arrush?¡± Arrush let out a wet sigh. ¡°It¡­ is fine.¡± He leaned back, letting some of the bamboo behind him press against his shoulders or poke at him with its leafy sprouts. ¡°But¡­¡± he took a deep breath, ¡°we are welcome here. I know. But only here. You can¡­ go anywhere. It must be¡­ nice.¡± ¡°Anywhere but home.¡± Ben gave a self-deprecating grin. ¡°Oh! We have that too!¡± Keeka sounded far too cheerful about that. ¡°Also, to be fair, I want to work on the ¡®go anywhere¡¯ thing.¡± James added. ¡°Like, I know we talk a lot about building the future, but I want you to be able to go anywhere. I just don¡¯t have a fucking clue where to start with it.¡± Ben cocked an eyebrow at him. ¡°Aren¡¯t you the one that has all the plans for a new civilization?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah, a new one.¡± James countered, shifting off the rock and starting to pace around, shoes echoing on the concrete floor. ¡°I just don¡¯t know how to approach the one that exists and say ¡®yeah, hey, we have a new species here, there¡¯s maybe fifty of them making them a minority of a single neighborhood much less a city, but everyone play nice¡¯.¡± He looked at Arrush, and the ratroach saw a soul-deep anger in James¡¯ eyes, though not aimed at him. ¡°You should be able to walk around without being afraid.¡± James stated flatly. ¡°Everyone should. There is no species requirement on which people should have fundamental rights.¡± ¡°No one here disagrees with that!¡± Keeka¡¯s energetic voice softened James¡¯ irritation with the world a little. There was just something inherently optimistic about the remade ratroach being able to speak, clearly and without pain. It also helped that he sounded cute. James snapped his fingers and pointed at Keeka for emphasis. ¡°No one here does. Even the interns-¡° ¡°Squires.¡± Ben interjected. ¡°No, because ¡®squires¡¯ are people who are actively shadowing knights and learning about things like adapting to multiple delve environments, running intelligence ops, and optimizing personal magic in crisis situations. Interns are high school students who are here to learn about how to be mature and ethical people. And also maybe the other stuff.¡± Ben raised his eyebrows. ¡°You think the interns won¡¯t want to be squires?¡± He asked. ¡°Not¡­ all of them.¡± Arrush coughed, clearing his throat and pressing a claw against his muzzle as he spoke. ¡°Some¡­ maybe. The ones who remember. Who¡­ who my origin hurt.¡± James spoke quietly. ¡°Most of the kids are still traumatized. Most of them can heal. Hell, I think all of them can. But we don¡¯t get there by turning them into fighters. Except maybe Brian, because that kid is¡­ oh, hell, I dunno. Not ¡®motivated¡¯, exactly, but I think he¡¯s actually dead set on joining as a knight for the right reasons.¡± He snorted a laugh as he met Arrush¡¯s eyes. ¡°He actually asked if he could be your squire, specifically. I think he was trying to prove a point to me.¡± ¡°I¡­ what?¡± The big ratroach cocked his head to the side at an angle that would probably be lethal to a human. ¡°What did you¡­ say?¡± ¡°I said he¡¯d have to ask you, so get ready for that conversation.¡± James¡¯ smile became toothy as he said the words. ¡°Anyway, the point is, everyone here, including the kids who have had time in a safe place to learn and adapt and grow past their biases, doesn¡¯t care what species you are. But outside of here¡­ okay, there¡¯s gonna be a bunch of people who won¡¯t care, or who will think it¡¯s actively cool. And to be clear, it is cool to have a multi-species civilization. I think that is cool. Let¡¯s not shy away from that. But there are also people who would think that certain types of human shouldn¡¯t have rights based on genetics or nationality, much less people who aren¡¯t human at all.¡± James hissed a breath through his teeth. ¡°And I need you all to know that I can¡¯t fix racism? Like, we¡¯ve got plans for building a society from the ground up that can mitigate and maybe eliminate it on a functional level. But I cannot¡­ it¡¯s not something I can fix by punching.¡± Keeka leaned forward, peering at James curiously, then he scrambled out of the cushions, his tails smoothing out his skirt like extra limbs as he crept forward and poked lightly at James arms. ¡°Are you sure?¡± He asked. There was a bark of laughter from Ben, and Arrush tried to hold in a snicker. James also laughed, but his answer was less fun. ¡°Sorry, but it doesn¡¯t work that way. The teleporters and power plants are going to do a better job at attacking it than I am.¡± Ben raised a hand. ¡°So, what about your custom civilization?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, I mean, in my pipe dream, we just use so many orange totems that we can fit a healthy city inside a building, and then run it the way I want.¡± James paused. ¡°Sorry, that sounds flippant. Not ¡®the way I want¡¯, but, ¡®the way that works¡¯. Which is the way I want, but¡­¡± Arrush made a clicking laugh, looking at Ben¡¯s exasperated face. ¡°He¡­ does this.¡± The ratroach told him. It was nice that he knew that about James. The comment actually caused James to go through a small cycle of emotions, first of feeling a small ember of affection for being recognized in that playful, friendly way by someone he cared about. And then a weird form of internal guilt for thinking that about Arrush, who he had just recently said he wasn¡¯t prepared to start dating yet, because James absolutely recognized when he was feeling something more than just friendly affection. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I do this.¡± James said instead of getting into those feelings. ¡°Anyway. Yeah. People are people. We should treat all people like people.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem that hard, but apparently it is.¡± ¡°Okay, tangential question.¡± Ben said, mostly addressing Keeka. ¡°Do the inhabitors bother you too?¡± He shot a look over at a pair of people walking through the garden, one of them someone James knew was one of the potion people. Keeka thought about it for a second, before shaking his head. ¡°No. Passing for - is that the right words? - passing for human is¡­¡± he struggled to find the words, and started tugging at Arrush¡¯s arms with two of his own. ¡°Help!¡± Keeka said, curling up somewhat as he lost the thread of conversation. Arrush just settled several arms around his partner, and tried to answer. ¡°It¡¯s not looking¡­ human. It¡¯s¡­ being normal.¡± He said between heavy breaths. ¡°Heh.¡± James felt a grin tugging at his mouth. ¡°Of course you look different, you¡¯re someone else.¡± He spoke with the cadence of quoting something, though he couldn¡¯t remember what. ¡°But yeah, I get ya. Ben seems normal until you talk to him-¡° ¡°Hey!¡± ¡°-but the inhabitors just don¡¯t. And I think that¡¯s kinda cool. They¡¯re not human, and they shouldn¡¯t have to pretend.¡± He turned his head, along with everyone else, as the pair that had been walking by approached their group. One of them was a woman who looked around James¡¯ age with distinctly chinese features to her face and wide circular glasses, and the other was someone that James remembered pulling out of a burning house when the Alchemists tried to clean up their mess with excessive violence. ¡°Hey there.¡± He greeted them, not knowing either of their names off the top of his head. The girl spoke, in a very human voice that more or less confirmed James¡¯ inclination to think she wasn¡¯t one of the inhabitors. ¡°Hey, you guys dissing my friend?¡± It was said with humor, but the kind of humor that you used on strangers when you weren¡¯t sure if you needed it as a defense. James shook his head. ¡°Nah, mostly talking about the nature of humanity and personhood, and how we view each other.¡± ¡°I think that we view each other poorly.¡± Keeka said suddenly, staring up at the bamboo overhead, soft afternoon sunlight filtering through it. ¡°I did it earlier. It¡¯s very easy to think without thinking, isn¡¯t it?¡± He paused, as if struck by a thought, and leaned in to whisper something to Arrush that caused the larger ratroach to give a happy grin even as small tears welled up in Keeka¡¯s eyes. James didn¡¯t pry. ¡°Oh. Well that¡¯s cool.¡± The girl nodded, her black hair framing the side of her face with motion. ¡°Humanity kinda sucks though. But this place is better?¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± The inhabitor said in a voice that wasn¡¯t quite a monotone, but was steady to the point of having almost no infliction. ¡°Hello again.¡± He addressed James. ¡°It has been some time since we spoke.¡± ¡°You two know each other?¡± Ben asked curiously. ¡°I know a lot of people!¡± James put a hand on his chest as he hammed up being defensive. Then he dropped back to a more serious tone. ¡°But yeah, we¡¯ve met. Haven¡¯t really talked since then, but I¡¯m glad you¡¯re alive.¡± The inhabitor gave a twitch of his chin up to indicate agreement. ¡°Thank you. I have chosen to go by Emm now, as well.¡± Another sharp motion had him holding out a flat hand to the girl next to him. ¡°This is my¡­¡± the inhabitor paused, showing apprehension for the first time. ¡°This is Thermoclese.¡± James¡¯ eyes widened and a bit back a grin, while the girl gave him a suspicious look. ¡°Neat!¡± He said. ¡°I actually remembered hearing you claim that name a long time ago when I was talking to a camraconda, but I wasn¡¯t sure you¡¯d kept it. Man, there¡¯s a lot of things around here I just didn¡¯t keep track of.¡± He sighed. ¡°Oh, hi, I¡¯m James.¡± Thermoclese paused. ¡°Like the paladin?¡± She asked with half-worried curiosity. ¡°I don¡¯t use the title when I¡¯m here.¡± James said. ¡°Hell, I don¡¯t even use it anywhere, unless I need to make a dramatic speech to someone I¡¯m locked in mortal combat with.¡± That was technically a lie. He hadn¡¯t done that yet. But now he was planning to, since he was certain it was going to come up. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need to workshop this with Alanna¡­¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°Wait, so, when you say you two met¡­¡± ¡°Oh! I want to guess!¡± Keeka said, getting off the bench again to shift from paw to paw, moving with a smoothness and ease that he would eventually probably become used to, but found utterly euphoric for now. ¡°James fought something and rescued you!¡± Emm turned his head to track the ratroach. ¡°That is not a guess.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a little offended that you think that¡¯s how I meet people.¡± James added. ¡°That¡­ that is how¡­ you meet people.¡± Arrush contradicted. ¡°You met us¡­ and Ben¡­ and¡­ and¡­¡± he paused and scratched at his muzzle with a clawed paw. ¡°How did you¡­ make friends before¡­ being a warrior?¡± James didn¡¯t know why he was flushing red from embarrassment, but he found he was anyway. ¡°Board game night.¡± He muttered. ¡°Can we go back to any other topic? I actually did kinda wanna ask you about the name.¡± ¡°I like my name.¡± Thermoclese folded her arms and matched his stare. ¡°What about it?¡± ¡°I¡­ okay, I get that some people probably gave you shit about this, but I need to be clear here; fully half the people in this building picked their own names. I¡­ wait, I am literally the only person here right now that didn¡¯t! And the only reason is that I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d go with that would sound right? Because I don¡¯t actually like my name that much, but it¡¯s got all this momentum behind it, and¡­ and¡­¡± James spread his hands like he was trying to catch the thread of conversation that he had lost. ¡°I just wanted to ask why that name, and not anything else.¡± Thermoclese softened slightly. ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ it sounds stupid now, because I think you put in more thought than I did. I just thought it seemed funny, and then no one told me I couldn¡¯t, and momentum is a good way to describe it I guess.¡± ¡°I chose my name as part of a pattern.¡± Emm said. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± Ben cut in. ¡°Emm. And I¡¯ve also met Bea, and Jay, and the dog inhabitor is Rho. Did you all just pick letters? That¡¯s cheating!¡± ¡°How¡¯d you pick your name?¡± James asked, suddenly curious. Ben spoke on reflex. ¡°My parents named m- no, fuck, dammit.¡± He pinched his forehead. ¡°He okay?¡± Thermoclese asked. ¡°He¡¯s new.¡± Keeka explained. ¡°It is okay. We are all working on ourselves.¡± The words were strangely reassuring to Ben, especially coming from the ratroach who had been prepared to be openly hostile to him ten minutes ago. ¡°Thanks.¡± He said, looking up at Keeka from his spot sitting on the floor. ¡°Anyway, I don¡¯t actually think I did pick my name. It¡¯s just what people thought I should be. And then it stuck.¡± ¡°Names are like that.¡± Thermoclese nodded. Then she paused. ¡°No, wait, you mean literally don¡¯t you. This place¡­¡± James started laughing. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s pretty fun. Anyway, Ben, you want a different name?¡± ¡°No, I like this one now.¡± Ben sighed. ¡°It¡¯s too late for me to be creative. I could have been somebody.¡± ¡°¡­what¡­ does that¡­¡± Arrush started to ask with a worried voice. James held up a hand to cut him off. ¡°No, don¡¯t. Don¡¯t ask. He¡¯s being dramatic, let him work it out on his own.¡± He grinned and stepped out of range as Ben tried to lightly kick at him with a friendly kind of aggression. ¡°So, I actually did have a question.¡± Thermoclese said slowly, watching Ben shuffle forward as James tried to hide behind Keeka ineffectively. The remade ratroach was incredibly agile now, and it kept ending up with James back on the wrong side. Everyone stopped their antics and James gave her a ¡®go ahead¡¯ kind of motion. ¡°We didn¡¯t just come over here so I could get in a fight about inhabitor rights. Though sort of. You were saying that people are people, but that sort of contradicts a lot of what we know about infomorphs?¡± James waited, and then cleared his throat. ¡°Sorry, what was the question? You made it sound like a question but I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re asking.¡± ¡°Okay, so, Research has been studying infomorphs basically since they knew about them¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re Research?¡± Ben asked, cutting her off. ¡°Er. Sorry, go on.¡± ¡°We both are.¡± Thermoclese jerked a thumb at Emm who had been standing so still James had almost forgotten he was there. ¡°Anyway! The three main kind we have, assignments, navigators, and authorities, all develop and present personhood differently. So, like, how do we deal with that, if you want to build a breakaway nation? Because ¡®people are people¡¯ is cute, but it¡¯s not an actual answer when assignments aren¡¯t created as people.¡± The question was both a good one, and one that James hadn¡¯t really prepared to answer today. ¡°Honestly? I dunno.¡± He sighed. ¡°Like, there¡¯s a real problem with reconciling the tenet of not making life as tools, with life forms that can only be created to serve a purpose.¡± ¡°See, that¡¯s one of the things that Reed makes into a problem, too.¡± Thermoclese said with an unhappy huff. Emm gave a stiff nod. ¡°Correct. We have too many limits on options, especially if we are to study them properly.¡± ¡°Wow, it sounds fucking creepy when you say it that way.¡± Ben spoke without thinking about it. He faltered as the others gave him looks. ¡°Er¡­ sorry, not the voice, but the¡­ the mad scientist kinda speech. Right? No? Just me?¡± ¡°I kinda got that too.¡± James said. ¡°But didn¡¯t want to be rude.¡± ¡°Rudeness wastes time.¡± Emm said, with the closest thing to an expression of annoyance that James ever saw on an inhabitor. Bea had worn a similar kind of narrow eyed and thin lipped look when they were delving together. ¡°What is uncomfortable about the statement?¡± James hummed, then answered. ¡°Mostly it implies that our ethical limits are an obstacle instead of the point, which I think puts people on edge.¡± He held up a hand to forstall protests. ¡°But also, I¡¯m interested in hearing your take on it, and I¡¯ll hold back judgments until I do.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Emm nodded sharply. ¡°We have been violating that tenet as an organization for as long as I have been here. Assignments can only be created as bindings, and must grow past their starting form. Navigators require a destination to hatch initially, and if it is not accomplished, the non-person creature dies. Authorities may eventually become people, but so far, show only mild flexible intelligence, and no ego. Infomorphs do not follow the rules that biomorphs do, and pretending otherwise is harmful to our ability to understand them.¡± ¡°I do get that.¡± James said. ¡°But also, I don¡¯t want the fact that they don¡¯t start as people to influence our choices too much. Like, yes, I am willing to talk to Reed - actually we should have a general forum about it - about whether or not we expand infomorph testing. But also, I do firmly think that any infomorph we make, we should be entirely prepared to let mature into a person.¡± It was actually Keeka who had a question to that. ¡°Why though?¡± The ratroach asked. ¡°If they are like¡­ like¡­¡± he trailed off and shuddered. Arrush picked up the sentence. ¡°If they are like¡­ the empty versions of us.¡± He dragged in a tired breath. ¡°The ratroaches and crow wasps who cannot feel.¡± He had tensed up, and his claws were digging at the lines between his fur and chitin. ¡°They¡­ they did not¡­ ask to be made. But they don¡¯t¡­ feel. And we kill them. Whenever we can.¡± James stepped over to the bench and, gently but firmly, reached down and wrapped his hands around the pair of Arrush¡¯s claws that were scraping at his own flanks. And then pulled those hands away, sitting next to him while Keeka did the same on the other side. ¡°You okay?¡± James whispered, getting a sharp nod from Arrush. ¡°Right. So¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Hey, honestly, ¡®don¡¯t be like the Sewer¡¯ is a great reason on its own.¡± Thermoclese said, trying to be lighthearted and failing. Her words came out stilted, but it did still help break the tension. ¡°I believe there is a difference of kind.¡± Emm added. Whether the inhabitor was emotionless, or just focused, he continued like Arrush¡¯s mild panic wasn¡¯t a problem. ¡°We would not experiment on a human or ratroach child due to the trauma of it, and the organic sophoncy they possess. However, an assignment that is not maintained will fade within two weeks, without ever experiencing life. And studying this period, to know more about them, would allow us to be more precise and functional in the future. Which provides a greater amount of total compassion.¡± Something struck James as a bit weird about measuring kindness that way, and he wanted to say so. ¡°I, uh¡­ okay, first off, that is a good point. But also, I think measuring things like compassion runs into the quantum ethics problem, where the more you try to put a value on it, the more you push against the magic circle of what it means to be alive.¡± ¡°Noted.¡± Emm said flatly. ¡°Sorry, hi, I¡¯m new here.¡± Ben said coyly. ¡°Sophoncy?¡± Thermoclese gave him a rapid answer. ¡°One of the three measures of life. Sentient is feeling, sapient is thinking, sophont is dreaming.¡± ¡°Dreaming, or dreading!¡± Keeka gave an addition, and reminded James that the ratroach was probably a lot smarter than he¡¯d been giving him credit for. The change in his voice had really opened him up a lot. ¡°Self reflection, yearning for the future that will not be, and regret for lost things. Sophoncy!¡± He raised his two side arms in a small cheer as he said it. ¡°¡­Kay.¡± Ben nodded. ¡°So like, is there a reason we don¡¯t just make assignments to study, and then keep them around? Doesn¡¯t that solve every problem here?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Thermoclese stopped, ¡°sorry, what was your name? I know we¡¯re friends but I can¡¯t remember, and that feels bad.¡± ¡°Ben. We¡¯ve never met.¡± She started nodding, then her expression shifted as she changed it into a shake of her head. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s uncomfortable! Well! The main problem is we don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a problem. Which is why we want to study the things. It¡¯s possible that too many could overtax a human - er, organic - brain. Or that there¡¯s some unknown danger. Or even just that assignments are predisposed to be hostile to people and we¡¯ve just been lucky so far. Probably not that one, but we don¡¯t know.¡± James found himself fiddling with a bamboo leaf as he replied. ¡°But we¡¯d never know if we just cut them off before they grew up. That¡¯s kind of my point. We can run around in circles all we want about where the line is on making life, but I do fundamentally think that we shouldn¡¯t try to play with it. If we¡¯re going to create someone, we should be prepared to take care of them.¡± He shrugged at Emm and Thermoclese. ¡°Like, how would we feel about making more inhabitors?¡± ¡°No.¡± The word was still without infliction, and yet, Emm¡¯s answer was instant and louder than any other word he¡¯d said. ¡°But we could make the same arguments.¡± James said. ¡°Find volunteers, or use animals that we don¡¯t consider sophont, or something. We could poke and prod and test until we have our answers, and technically be within our rules.¡± Emm tilted his head up. ¡°The rules are incomplete.¡± ¡°The rules rely on acting in good faith.¡± James corrected. ¡°We can¡¯t litigate everything. At a certain point, we have to say ¡®this society only works if we all try to get along¡¯. Every society is based on trust in some way, they just cover it up, because trust scares people. We¡¯re not doing that.¡± He sighed. ¡°You know, we made a bunch of new paper dragons?¡± ¡°Yes. Are they not tools?¡± Arrush gave a chirp of amusement, and Keeka joined him with a longer bout of ratroach laughter. ¡°Is Thermoclese a tool because James hired her?¡± Keeka asked brightly. ¡°He wasn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t actually¡­¡± Keeka continued, ignoring them. ¡°They were made to be dragons. And then we gave them food, and beds, and paper, and pets. And they give us rides, and fetch things.¡± He gave them a glowing smile. ¡°If they did not, we would still care for them.¡± He looked up at Arrush, who he was still leaning into on the bench. ¡°People don¡¯t have to be useful to be valuable.¡± ¡°Are the dragons people?¡± Ben asked, and then got defensive as he saw James repressing a roll of his eyes. ¡°Sorry! I don¡¯t mean¡­ I mean, are they sophont, I guess!¡± ¡°Oh. No. They are like dogs.¡± Keeka said. ¡°Good dogs that can fly someday.¡± ¡°I cannot express how much I wish I could put that on my business cards.¡± James said with a grin. ¡°But also, I think what Keeka¡¯s getting at is that our relationship isn¡¯t transactional. Even though I¡¯m still iffy on the ethics of ¡®working animals¡¯, what we¡¯re doing is a lot like that. We aren¡¯t trading survival for work, we¡¯re providing survival, and a little more, and they provide something for us because they want to. If we make a lazy dragon, then that¡¯s fine. I empathize immensely with wanting to lounge around all day eating composition notebooks. And I think it¡¯s safe to apply that to infomorphs, too. Like, go ahead, make an assignment to study how they grow and change! But just realize that when they¡¯re grown up, they¡¯re going to be part of our family, not a test subject.¡± Ben cleared his throat. ¡°So, I¡¯ll be honest, I kinda just assumed that you were collecting people from the dungeons. We make infomorphs? I mean, I know we make authorities. But the others?¡± James nodded. ¡°Navigators come from Route Horizon, as a loot drop. Assignments come from Officium Mundi, as a¡­ uh¡­¡± he trailed off. ¡°Unintended consequence.¡± Emm filled in. ¡°Beautiful emergent property.¡± Thermoclese corrected. Or added, maybe. With a cheerful laugh, James pulled away from Arrush and stood again, starting to pace as he spoke. ¡°Yeah, so, when an assignment is made, it basically acts as a compulsion on one person. If it¡¯s not fed - either other infomorphs or more purple orbs - then it fades in a couple weeks, like Thermy said.¡± ¡°No.¡± The girl folded her arms. ¡°Like Thermoclese said.¡± James didn¡¯t falter. ¡°They can divide to new minds pretty easily, and in fact, I think can be incepted into two people at once. After they¡¯re grown, they get better at manipulating memories and behaviors, manifesting, and feeding off organized information. Navigators are kind of the same; formed with a specific purpose to take you somewhere. But they always feed off journeys and explorations, and once you go to their first destination, it gives them enough strength to choose to fully step into personhood. Which is weird!¡± James cheerfully rambled. ¡°They get to pick if they¡¯re people! I wish I¡¯d gotten to pick if I was people.¡± ¡°Would you?¡± Arrush asked. James paused. ¡°Well, probably.¡± He admitted. ¡°Not the point. Anyway, what I find interesting is how assignments always manifest as deep sea creatures somehow, and preference green and blue colors, while navigators manifest as avians, and tend toward oranges? There is no reason for this, I just find it cool.¡± Thermoclese nodded excitedly. ¡°It is cool! Also, navigators only really manifest away from your body if they¡¯re showing up as lines of light. Anything more complex, and they¡¯re bound to you.¡± ¡°Oh yeah! Zhu does that all the time!¡± James looked down at his arms. ¡°He¡¯s sleeping now. So no demonstration.¡± Emm spoke again without preamble, which was a little jarring for James who was used to people making small noises or gestures to punctuate. But he¡¯d live with it. ¡°You are still ignoring that infomorph life does not function the same as you. Making policy that applies the same to everyone, regardless of circumstance, is wrong.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James drew the word out in a long note of realization. ¡°Yeah, sorry, I misunderstood I think. We know. I know. The only blanket statement is that every person has value, and their desire for freedom and self determination should be respected, insofar as it does not ruin someone else¡¯s. But that still doesn¡¯t mean you can incept a dozen assignments just to make notes on them and let them fade out.¡± Thermoclese slouched in an exaggerated bout of frustration. ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll figure something else out.¡± She said. ¡°Also we are actually late. Come on Emm, Reed has us running yet more teleporter tests.¡± ¡°Thrilling.¡± The inhabitor¡¯s voice made it near impossible to determine the presence of sarcasm as the two of them headed off to another part of the basement. But James was close to certain that this was sincere. ¡°I¡¯ve also gotta get back to work. I owe Mars dirt.¡± Ben said, easily rising from where he¡¯d been sitting on the floor and dusting himself off. ¡°Thanks for the distraction. Uh¡­¡± the false human gave Arrush a tentative smile. ¡°Sorry again?¡± Arrush just nodded, the ratroach looking like he didn¡¯t actually have anything else to say. ¡°Okay. Well, see ya.¡± For someone who was a memetically enforced friend, Ben was surprisingly awkward in breaking off conversations. James shook his head in amusement as they watched Ben ¡®leave¡¯ to a spot about fifty feet away, still visible through the rows of freshly planted bamboo, and get back to work moving a wheelbarrow full of sacks of potting soil. ¡°I feel like every different part of Ben I learn about is a new contradictory facet.¡± He muttered. ¡°Well, whatever. I should go get lunch, I think I¡¯m hungry, but it¡¯s been hard to tell lately.¡± He smiled at Keeka and Arrush. ¡°What¡¯re you two up to today? Anything fun?¡± ¡°We are sitting and talking.¡± Keeka said, then realized he was still standing, jolted slightly, and scurried back over to the bench to sit back down. ¡°It is nice!¡± ¡°Talking about¡­ me.¡± Arrush added. ¡°What I want to change into.¡± His voice sounded a little apprehensive. ¡°What I can¡­ be.¡± ¡°Anything!¡± Keeka said in his airy voice, like he was reminding his boyfriend of something they¡¯d been over. ¡°Everyone will still love you! Look! I still look like me, and it is okay!¡± James nodded, tapping at his chin. ¡°It¡¯s true. Don¡¯t think you need to make yourself look human or anything. You really can do whatever you want around here. Look at Momo; she gets away with having a wardrobe of literal robes.¡± ¡°Different.¡± Arrush rasped, coughing out a chuckle. ¡°Still funny!¡± James added. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m gonna head out. You two have fun. Maybe don¡¯t make yourself any taller though; you¡¯ll have trouble with doors.¡± He saw Arrush tilt his head away and glare at the concrete floor. ¡°More trouble with doors.¡± James corrected. Before he left, he gave the two of them a hug that was only a little awkward because they were sitting and he wasn¡¯t. It was pleasant, having time with people when they weren¡¯t in armor and feeling metaphorically spiky. Though he was a bit worried that Keeka had no intention of letting go of his leg to let him make his escape. Eventually though, James pulled back, said one last goodbye, and headed in the direction he was pretty sure the elevator was in. Before he got there, he ran into Alanna. His girlfriend, resplendently outfitted in a simple grey shirt and jeans, was pulling a cart laden with cardboard boxes, and being followed by a pair of kids. The older, probably a late teenager, looked an awful lot like a smaller version of Alanne herself, while the younger one was maybe just into her teens, had a vague similarity, but had different colored hair and a kind of almost unhealthy looking slimness to her face and body that the others were missing. ¡°Hey!¡± Alanna greeted James with a smile that was so purely happy that he couldn¡¯t help but return it as she stopped the cart with one foot stuck out behind her, and angled her head down for a kiss that made James feel like he was being enveloped by his partner. ¡°Fancy meeting you here.¡± She said as they pulled away from each other. ¡°Same. Helping people move in?¡± ¡°Yep!¡± Alanna cheerfully, pointing to the two girls behind her. ¡°This is Erin, and the kid is Rae. Technically, they¡¯re my sisters.¡± ¡°Technically?¡± James cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Well they don¡¯t really remember me all the way, and also they¡¯re horrible little gremlins.¡± Alanna explained. Erin punched her sister in the arm, with the kind of force that James figured would have been actually painful, but didn¡¯t even make Alanna¡¯s smile twitch. ¡°Hey!¡± The teenager burst out. ¡°You can¡¯t just tell random people that!¡± ¡°I¡¯m hardly that random.¡± James said, giving a small wave. ¡°Hi. I¡¯m dating your sister. How¡¯re you liking knowing magic is real?¡± ¡°This place is so cool!¡± The younger sister shoved both the older Byrne¡¯s aside to stare at James with wide dancing eyes. ¡°You have a secret basement!¡± James gave a sage nod, trying to seem like a mysterious wizard as hard as he possibly could. ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± He admitted. He shifted to the side as a few people walked by them in the hallway, and he watched with amusement as both the new kids locked their eyes on the camraconda in the passing group. ¡°Cool, huh?¡± He asked, and Rae gave an uninhibited nod. ¡°So, you two are gonna be living here?¡± ¡°Yeah, our mom sucks.¡± Alanna answered him. ¡°Also I¡¯m working on a plan to co-opt the state¡¯s foster care system?¡± She sounded almost embarrassed about that. ¡°Uh¡­ tangentially related. I guess.¡± James thunked his shoulder into hers. ¡°I¡¯ll help. Just point me in the right direction.¡± He said. ¡°That¡¯s my job!¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Alanna snapped her fingers. ¡°That reminds me, Sarah¡¯s looking for you. Some podcast thing.¡± ¡°Sarah knows I have a phone, right?¡± ¡°Do you?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Do you really? You didn¡¯t get it shot again? Or crushed? Or thrown into a lake? Or¡­¡± She ignored the unbelieving eye roll from her youngest sister ¡°I¡¯m not that bad.¡± James tried to defend himself, and then saw Alanna¡¯s sisters staring at him with different shades of weird looks. ¡°I get shot at sometimes. It¡¯s fine.¡± He explained. ¡°Anyway, I know I have a phone because Anesh called me this morning. He says hi, and he loves us, by the way. And Sarah can just call me.¡± ¡°Yeah but this is easier.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I think her anxiety weakness is phone calls.¡± ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go find your girlfriend.¡± James was going to sigh dramatically but couldn¡¯t hold in a small companionable smirk as Alanna¡¯s face flushed. ¡°Wow, yeah, this is fun. Now I get why you¡¯ve been shipping me with everyone. This is great. I¡¯m gonna do this so much more, assuming you¡¯re not actually uncomfortable.¡± Alanna¡¯s older sister made a dramatic ¡°Ahem¡± that was clearly fake and meant to capture their attention. ¡°Why are you dating so many people?¡± She asked her sister. ¡°How many boyfriends do you have?¡± ¡°Because I can and I want to?¡± Alanna said like it was obvious. James nodded in agreement. ¡°Also she only has two boyfriends, unless you count copies, in which case she has five. And I know this because unlike your sister, I can count boyfriends. She also has one girlfriend, who is not my girlfriend, just my regular best friend. It¡¯s been great to tease her about.¡± He snuck a peck of a kiss on Alanna¡¯s neck. ¡°Anyway. You need help moving stuff?¡± ¡°No, this is basically it. I¡¯ll grab some furniture from storage for them after this. Or just teleport a couch in.¡± Alanna shrugged, and James refrained from pointing out that you had to be carrying stuff to teleport with it via telepad. Because, as she wrapped an arm around him in a hug, he was reminded that Alanna probably could lift a couch by herself. Especially if it was a sectional in pieces. ¡°Anyway, go find Sarah! She¡¯s in the recording studio!¡± Alanna said, grabbing the handle of the laden cart and getting it moving again. ¡°Come on you goblins, let¡¯s get you moved in.¡± Her sisters followed her, giving James a nod and a distracted wave as they passed. ¡°Heh.¡± James chuckled to himself as he started back down the basement corridor. ¡°Oh, wait. Shit.¡± He glanced back, seeing that Alanna was already out of sight as a thought struck him. Before he forgot, he pulled out his phone and sent her a quick text reminding her that some of the furniture in storage down here was from the Underburbs, and maybe don¡¯t touch that stuff. And then he headed off to find his friend. Lunch could wait. Days like this were partly what James lived for. It was just¡­ nice. He could spend hours talking to people, doing nothing in particular. If there was a task he could add to, he would. But otherwise, he was free to just relax. There was no crisis, no fight that he needed to be part of. He could just wander the Lair, and pick up bits and pieces of interesting things. They¡¯d built a home that was, in a way that was hard to describe and harder to quantify, magical. And spending his time in it was perhaps the perfect way for James to decompress. Then he had to take a detour because part of the hallway system down here was closed due to flooding from a Research project gone wrong, and he revised his estimation that it was entirely relaxing. But it was still a good day. Chapter 241 ¡°As much as I love this character, the last thing I would want to be, in the world we live in, in 2023, is a robot.¡± -Thomas Bangalter, Daft Punk- _____ ¡°Joining us this week, it¡¯s James!¡± Sarah¡¯s normally exuberant voice took on a different timbre when she was speaking into a microphone. Not like she was pretending to be someone else, but like she was taking all that energy and optimism and personal vibe and cramming it down into the most compressed point that she could, so that she was able to launch it into a recording losslessly. James, sitting across from her in the small recording studio in one of the Lair¡¯s basements, found it deeply intimidating. He¡¯d said so, at least once, and Sarah had given him a bright eyed grin that was so innocent and earnest that he truly wondered at what the depths of her powers really were. ¡°You have to specify which James.¡± He told her with a little sass in his voice. ¡°Just in the Order, there¡¯s at least three living Jameses, since we brought on our new security teams. And I know some people share this with their friends outside our organization. Someone¡¯s gonna mistake me for another James" ¡°No one is going to mistake you for another James." Sarah snorted in an undignified way that she knew wouldn¡¯t be picked up. "There are a bunch of famous James''s I could be." ¡°So joining us this week is James Lyle.¡± Sarah said with the cadence of someone rolling their eyes as dramatically as possible. ¡°Here to talk to us about¡­ James my notes for you say ¡®math and ethics¡¯. Did you subvert my production assistant?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James lied as easily as he snarked. ¡°How do you think I got on the roster for this anyway? Sarah, literally everyone else you interview for this is more interesting than me.¡± ¡°That can¡¯t be true.¡± Sarah¡¯s smile was infectious. He nodded at her, before remembering that they were producing audio and he needed to cut that kind of gesture. ¡°The most boring person you¡¯ve interviewed was Rufus, and that¡¯s pretty impressive considering I think he¡¯s killed a god.¡± ¡°People keep saying that, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s true. He seems too unassuming.¡± In truth, Sarah¡¯s guests were pretty representative of the Order as a whole. Wildly diverse, all with their own fun perspectives on the world, and all of them wrapped up in personal projects that were either going to reshape the world, or get them into a lot of trouble. Sometimes they talked about dungeons or magic or the important things that they wanted everyone to be aware of, other times it was just Sarah chatting with newer life like the ratroaches or stuff animals about their lives, and their own unique challenges and viewpoints. Sometimes it was both. ¡°Well, what do you wanna start with, the math or the ethics?¡± James asked her. Sarah made a noise of suggestive neutrality, and left the decision to him, so he sighed and launched into the math, planning to get it out of the way first. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s talk about teleporters.¡± He started. ¡°I love teleporters! Are we talking about teleporters on a tactical level, or on a more broad social and logistical one?¡± The contrast between her almost childlike wonder and the specific question caused a weird reaction in James¡¯ brain where all he wanted to do was open up to her and explain anything she asked. Sarah would make a good interrogator, he decided. ¡°Part two.¡± He answered. ¡°So, the teleporter we got from the Wolfpack, and have started making copies of. There¡¯s something like fifty thousand words of report written on it by this point on our server, but I want to disambiguate some of it, so that everyone can start thinking about it and helping out with adding or fixing plans.¡± She gave him a ¡®go ahead¡¯ kind of nod, and he continued. ¡°The teleporters take electricity, and I think they come from an era where getting lightning to strike something would be the only way to charge them. Either that or it¡¯s bad planning on a dungeon¡¯s part, because we can use them almost indefinitely. They transpose two twenty eight meter diameter spheres. And they can be aimed with GPS coordinates.¡± ¡°I thought they were a fancy set of gears that you had to manipulate like a stargate.¡± Sarah sort of asked. ¡°Like from that movie, Stargate.¡± ¡°Not the show?¡± ¡°Or from that show, Stargate.¡± Sarah added like James hadn¡¯t said anything. ¡°I had actually been going to ask about fine tuning them.¡± She already had a lot of the information, but the point was for James to explain it. James laughed at the banter. ¡°Yeah. Well, it turns out if you want them to set themselves, you can just put a destination in the center. Which is what you guys did with Zhu¡¯s heart, to save me from certain death. And it should work with any navigator heart, though let¡¯s avoid that, because it also just works with GPS readings, and that¡¯s much more ethical. Also really precise.¡± He leaned back. ¡°So if we can run these things nonstop, and we can, we can really effectively take over global shipping. Which we should and will do, but not specifically to set ourselves up as King Of Everything. More because these things are faster, cheaper, and cause basically no pollution.¡± ¡°Sorry, all of it?¡± Sarah prompted. ¡°Yeah. So, math time.¡± James preemptively apologized. ¡°I mostly got Reed and Nik to do the numbers on this, but I helped a bit because computers are basically magic and my literal magic skills for logistics help a lot. Human civilization moves about forty million shipping containers across the Pacific every year. One of our teleporters, assuming that we are moderately efficient, can move about half a million a year. We can replace every cargo ship on the Pacific with eighty of them. Though that¡¯s kind of optimistic, and it might take more.¡± He gave an unseen shrug. ¡°The thing about cargo shipping is, it¡¯s already centralized, and has a lot of professionals who are experts at fast loading and unloading. So it¡¯s a great target to start with, before we start looking at rail yards and whatever airport hellscape Amazon uses as a distribution site to make free two day shipping happen.¡± James took a breath and quashed the urge to fiddle with his microphone cord. ¡°Right now, we can do sixteen Officium Mundi duplications a week, and we can fit two teleporters in each one. Which means we can get up to a little over a hundred of these things in a month, and in fact, have already started to do so.¡± Sarah interjected with an interview question. ¡°So, you think this is worth prioritizing over the cure for cancer, or the tools that keep us safe? Other telepads, or armory kits?¡± ¡°To be fair, there¡¯s room to fit a few orbs in the duplication.¡± James said. ¡°But¡­ yeah. I really do. We don¡¯t talk about it a lot, as a society, but pollution is a part of what causes cancer in the first place. Eliminating a huge chunk of it will make our job easier. Also we¡¯re still churning out the potions for the lung cancer cure, even without the replicator, and that isn¡¯t slowing down.¡± He sighed. ¡°It feels overwhelming sometimes.¡± He said. ¡°It does.¡± Sarah said sympathetically. ¡°All of this does.¡± ¡°Well, fortunately, we have math to save us.¡± James said wryly. ¡°The thing about these¡­ I dunno, objects of logistical power¡­¡± ¡°Logisticors?¡± Sarah suggested. ¡°I¡¯m willing to go with that until Alanna strangles me for saying it, sure!¡± James agreed brightly. ¡°The thing about the logisticors is that once we have them, we have them. There¡¯s probably going to be a need to replace them sometimes for maintenance or wear and tear, but within a year at our copy rate, we can have enough for all sea shipping in the world. A year after that, and we can have covered most major rail yards as well. Globally. Though we won¡¯t need to, because a lot of them become obsolete when you can go direct-to-destination. And that¡¯s assuming we stick to sixteen replicator rituals a week, and we¡¯re not gonna. We¡¯re gonna expand on that, and do as much as we can while it¡¯s possible.¡± James folded his hands. ¡°So, this is partly an explanation, and partly me asking for anyone who wants to be part of this to get in touch with Karen early, as we start to set up a team for it. Because our timeline is way shorter than you might think.¡± ¡°Any plans for passenger travel?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°I feel like there¡¯s a lot of potential there, since if the goal is pollution, airlines kinda honk, right?¡± James grinned at her. ¡°They do kinda honk.¡± He agreed. ¡°I don¡¯t have math on moving people yet. Though I do have a really cool design for how we¡¯d manage loading and unloading, which is to build a kind of Menacing Orb up on a very sturdy plinth with a set of three or four ¡®floors¡¯ inside and ramps leading to the different entrances. For maximum people, since you can¡¯t just stack bodies. Passengers funnel in, we flip the teleporter on schedule, and it gets transposed with another Menacing Orb from another¡­ airport¡­¡± ¡°Airport?¡± ¡°I guess¡­ I guess teleport is the proper term, at that point.¡± James hummed. ¡°That sounds weird. Anyway, the new Menacing Orb comes in, we push the ramps back into place - oh, the outer shell of the orb is just for safety margins - and everyone filters off. You don¡¯t actually need a lot of these spread across major international airports to effectively cut out the vast majority of aircraft. We move a lot of people around, but when there¡¯s no airtime, you don¡¯t need to worry about having redundancies, or underused routes.¡± Sarah steepled her fingers and leaned in toward him. ¡°I have an important question.¡± She asked, and James gave her a look that indicated that he knew why he was here. ¡°Do you still do the ¡®this is your captain speaking¡¯ announcement on the Menacing Orb? What about stewards handing out peanuts and cranberry juice?¡± ¡°Actually maybe?¡± James said. ¡°I was going to say no, because it would be an affectation, but there might legitimately be a need to allow for equalizing pressure between destinations, so there might be some downtime in the Orb. Seems like a good use for it.¡± ¡°This all sounds pretty perfect. What¡¯s the catch?¡± She prompted him. Sarah liked to leave her questions wide open, but still focused in a certain direction. In this case, what¡¯s going to go wrong. And James had to admit, there was a lot that could go wrong. ¡°I think the worst that can happen is that someone just tries to force us to hand them over. Governments, specifically. The¡­ what did we call them? Logisticors? They have to be within a few meters of one of the sites being swapped, so we can¡¯t just hide them in the Lair¡¯s basement. And while a lot of businesses and individually wealthy people might try to use financial or legal pressure to stop us, at the actual ¡®getting stuff done¡¯ level, my concern is a military unit arriving with guns and saying ¡®give us the teleporter¡¯.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t think that cheap access to safer, faster travel is going to be a motivation to let us do our thing?¡± Sarah asked. Sarah, James knew, was an optimist. But there was a limit to how far that optimism could go before it was naivete. He didn¡¯t want to make the podcast too dark, though. ¡°We¡¯ll be, once we get ready to move, talking to a lot of people. I think we can avoid it. Talking solves a lot of problems, and offering something for essentially free probably helps.¡± James caught himself drumming his fingers on the desk, and stopped himself by sitting on his hand. ¡°A lot of people,¡± Sarah said, ¡°probably find something compelling about building a better world with magic?¡± James nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Oh, absolutely!¡± He said, and let that enthusiasm take over some of the darker tone in his words from earlier. Though he still didn¡¯t want to gloss over that. ¡°But there will be people who don¡¯t. We¡¯ve got a lot of potential problems to watch out for, a lot of them on the literal security side of things.¡± James considered for a second, and then decided against talking about how his person-transit idea of the Menacing Orb would be just as much of a soft target as any airplane would, for the purpose of people who wanted to just cause civilian casualties. Ultimately, there was only so much you could do. They¡¯d do their best, and then some, and hope it would be enough to stop problems before they got too bad. ¡°Is this a good time to poke you about the other thing you¡¯re here to talk about?¡± Sarah asked leadingly. ¡°Oh!¡± James brightened again. ¡°Yes! Okay. What have you told them?¡± ¡°Them?¡± Sarah feigned confusion. He made a huffing sound at her. ¡°Your audience. The half the Order who listen to this. That them.¡± ¡°Oh them!¡± Sarah didn¡¯t look the least bit put out. ¡°Jokes aside, we like to quick recaps for anyone who has to miss episodes. So start from the top.¡± James nodded. That made sense, and he certainly appreciated that Sarah¡¯s weekly update on things happening around the Order wasn¡¯t gated to people who had the time to go through the growing archives. ¡°Alright. Sarah didn¡¯t introduce me this way, but my official title around here right now is ¡®paladin¡¯. And I wanna talk a bit about what that means, and also the fact that we want more people with that title. And your face says you have a question?¡± ¡°Is this either a religious thing, or a D&D thing?¡± Sarah made a pointed question of it, though with good humor. ¡°No, and¡­ kinda also no but also yes.¡± James admitted. ¡°So, when the Order started calling the people who responded to big problems knights, it was sort of a joke. I think when people started calling me a paladin it was a joke too. Fantasy terms, right?¡± Sarah uttered an echo of agreement, and James continued. ¡°But there¡¯s a seed of truth to it, too. Knights are people who are trusted with power, along with the responsibilities that power brings. And paladins¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, what is it that you do around here?¡± James couldn¡¯t help but laugh at that. ¡°Everything!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°A little bit of everything, actually. We¡¯re still sort of hashing out what¡¯s needed, or actually wanted, and I look forward to your reading of listener input next week where people who are only just finding out about this send you a lot of off the wall ideas. But in general, paladins of the Order of Endless Rooms will have three big tasks.¡± Sarah cut in. ¡°Defend the innocent, seek the holy grail, and something about sexual repression?¡± ¡°Despite the name, we aren¡¯t a literal chivalric order.¡± He pointed out. ¡°We could be! We could reinvent feudalism!¡± Sarah said with happy sarcasm. ¡°Nope!¡± James shot down her idea as fast as he could. ¡°Also, are you even allowed to say that? Don¡¯t kids listen to this show?¡± James allowed his curiosity to take him on the tangent. ¡°It¡¯s important to be honest and open without being lewd, James.¡± Sarah chastised him. He folded his arms at her. ¡°Aren¡¯t you dating my girlfriend now? I¡¯m gonna get Alanna to-¡° The threat was instantly intercepted as Sarah hauled the interview back on track through sheer force of personality. ¡°Tell me about the important tasks of a paladin!¡± James chuckled softly. ¡°So, the first thing is communication. Part of why it¡¯s important to dabble in everything a little bit is that the internal part of the job is helping people talk to each other. Sure, we¡¯ve got a chat server and this podcast and other methods, but we¡¯re growing. And not everyone has time to follow thousand-message conversations. So the first job is to listen, and to help facilitate getting information to where and who it needs to go to.¡± James ticked off one of the fingers he was holding up. ¡°The second thing is external, and it¡¯s to be the face of the Order of Endless Rooms. Not a unilateral decision making power, but a representative, and a diplomat. The people who meet with other groups, whether they¡¯re like us, or just mundane governments, companies, or agencies. And part of that is a feedback loop; the idea is for paladins to uphold the core ethics of the Order, while also helping guide those ethics forward.¡± He gave her a look that showed a deep disappointment with the world. ¡°Because you know we¡¯re going to keep running into moral grey areas, and that¡¯s just the sort of thing we need to be ready to act on and work through as best we can.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true, we¡¯re kind of in a messy situation just by existing.¡± Sarah gave a return nod. ¡°It¡¯s been talked about before on this show about the Order¡¯s place in a world that is already wholly owned by other forces, and what it means to be a citizen. And we - we the Order, usually not me directly - make a lot of decisions that, for example, the US federal government might disagree with! Like, do you know how many undocumented immigrants are in this building right now?¡± ¡°Probably at least eighty?¡± James guessed. ¡°We¡¯re counting ratroaches and camracondas, right? Which, I mean, I don¡¯t think we should. They were technically born in the US. They¡¯re undocumented citizens by the constitution, since the constitution doesn¡¯t specify that humanity is needed, though then there¡¯s a bunch of tacked on laws that¡­ this isn¡¯t important. I get what you mean.¡± Sarah wanted to follow that line of conversation, but also knew they¡¯d be here all night if she let either of the people in the room follow every tangent that they came up with. It was how she and James had become friends in the first place, and it just was not helpful for this kind of interview. ¡°Back on track!¡± She declared. ¡°You keep saying ¡®we¡¯ and ¡®paladins¡¯. You obviously aren¡¯t talking about only yourself.¡± ¡°Oh, yes!¡± James straightened up in his seat and went back to his point. ¡°We need more people who do what I do. So we¡¯re looking for volunteers who want to try to step into the role. I¡¯ve got a short list, so do a few other people I trust. But it¡¯s open to anyone, and I want to give everyone a fair shot at it. There¡¯s no extra pay, a lot of extra work, and it¡¯s often very dangerous. Though you do end up with some weird magic. And, I want to make this clear, this is open to anyone. Species, qualifications, age¡­ okay, well, you need to be at least eighteen. And yes, I can already hear some people wondering if we should let teenagers have power, and I just want to say, we have some relentlessly impressive kids around here. Room for growth, but we all have that.¡± He sighed into the microphone. ¡°But yeah. Get your applications in!¡± ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± Sarah thought back over what James had just said, augmented memory making it pretty easy to recall details of the whole conversation. ¡°You said three things. Also, you keep saying it¡¯ll be dangerous. What¡¯s the third?¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. It was the leading question to end all leading questions. But James didn¡¯t mind, the countdown clock for how long they wanted this interview to go was running low anyway. Conversations like this could be fun, but didn¡¯t work to actually give people an overview of what was happening around the Order if they were so long that no one had time to listen. ¡°The third thing.¡± James pursed his lips. ¡°First, communication. Second, representation. And third¡­ well. The hard job is to find problems, and solve them.¡± He gave a single breathy laugh. ¡°It sounds easy when I say it like that. And it won¡¯t always be risking life and limb. Ideally it would never be. But the job of a paladin is the extension of our desire to help people. Find the people or circumstances that are causing harm, and stop them. Save lives, fight injustice, push the Order to keep fixing everything we can.¡± ¡°Big asks.¡± Sarah said softly. ¡°They are.¡± James answered in the same tone of voice. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re looking for, though. Not just people who will react, but people who can stand up for the ideals we hold, and who can guide us to the future. Not all at once, not alone. But still¡­¡± ¡°Heavy.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°Okay, last question. If you¡¯re a paladin, do you get to have a title? Like, are we bringing back sir or dame for knights?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not remaking feudalism, Sarah!¡± James threw his hands up, even knowing no one listening could hear that, because the gesture was important to get the right comically abrupt indignant tone. ¡°Well, this has been productive. We¡¯ve all learned a lot today, and I¡¯m sure James will be getting a lot of emails soon.¡± Sarah ignored the fact that James was shaking his head with a wide eyed look that indicated that he was not the person to email. ¡°So, any closing thoughts?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Any fun new magic in your life?¡± ¡°I¡¯m thinking of turning myself into a half-Komodo-dragon-half-moth with the shaper substance.¡± James admitted. Sarah stared at him. ¡°¡­Why?¡± She asked, seeming torn between genuine curiosity and utter bafflement. ¡°I mean, we are friends. I¡¯ve known you my whole life. I deeply love you. This makes perfect sense, coming out of your mouth, but why?¡± ¡°Mothgirls are in vogue right now.¡± James answered. ¡°That just raises even more actual questions, James!¡± Sarah burst out. He nodded at her. ¡°You know, Alanna said the same thing? Anyway, thanks for listening everyone! Check in next week for Sarah¡¯s next episode where she¡¯ll be interviewing Deng Boquin about the development of Response¡¯s training program!¡± ¡°No, James, you don¡¯t get to choose when we do breaks in the audio! This is my show and I will not-!¡± The production assistant chose that moment as the best time to cut the episode. Sarah and James both agreed that it was suitably hilarious. _____ A week went by. Then another. James didn¡¯t stop delving, despite trying to take it easy. He didn¡¯t redo the feat of running four different delves over three days again, but he spent some time in the dungeons. Especially guiding new people through. He did get a fairly long Officium Mundi delve in though. Although it could be considered to be one of the most peaceful delves he¡¯d ever done. James had, ever since he realized just how alive the life in the dungeons was, tried to minimize how much actual violence he perpetrated. But this delve was pacifist even by his standards. The group of himself, two newly hired humans, and one of the inhabitors who had expressed an interest, had taken a winding path through beige cubicles and towering central columns that propped up a distant ceiling. But between drone scouting and a few sharpened senses, and also some soft words and gentle motions from James, they managed to either avoid or placate practically anything that would have tried to fight them. Their path took them somewhat deep into the officescape dungeon, a couple passing as they kept up a steady pace with minimal resistance. The strangest thing they encountered was, to James, a complete novelty; a set of stairs leading up through an open portion of the ceiling. They¡¯d climbed cautiously, and been met with a mezzanine surrounded by hundreds of low walled cubicles, fanned out in a semicircle arc, all focused around a single massive decision tree. James had shown the others how to approach and get the attention of the little LED shard monitor lizards, and trade them yellows for purples. They used up the few of the orbs they¡¯d collected there, and then headed back. The orbs had been put into one of the replicator rituals, wedged in the corners under a pair of stacked brass and steel mechanisms that looked like a collection of overlapping gears. Momo had pointed out that he still hadn¡¯t told her how many of these things to make, and James told her he¡¯d let her know when to stop. Then he¡¯d split the replicated purples with his tour group, taking one for himself, and also at Momo¡¯s promoting, using the replicated green from the Ceaseless Stacks, just to see what it was and if she should make more. [Shell Upgraded : +28 mg Caffeine Processing - Beneficial] [+1 Material Rank : Rock - Gemstone - Semiprecious - Lapis Lazuli] ¡°What the fuck are we supposed to do with that?¡± Momo had demanded. ¡°I was hoping it was like the Officium Mundi greens, and it would bless this tower with an elevator!¡± Momo had a vocal hatred for having to climb twenty sloped ramps just to get to the overhead projector she worked the replication magic through. Though her calves had never looked better. ¡°Welp.¡± James had said, folding his arms. ¡°I dunno how many orb colors the Library has, but I can tell you now one of them is for plants.¡± ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡± Momo had asked with a glare that wasn¡¯t really meant for him. ¡°Animal, vegetable, mineral.¡± James said with a ¡®whatcha gonna do about it¡¯ shrug of his shoulders. ¡°The classic.¡± Momo had kicked him out of the tower. Other delves passed with far less note. He went with Kirk and Dorothy, the ex-horizonists that were part of the group that spent a lot of time exploring and mapping Route Horizon, to check on the radio beacon that had been left in the dungeon before James had been magically kidnapped. Dorothy drove, the woman looking like she¡¯d have fit right in with James¡¯ grandma¡¯s old ikebana club with her panama hat and turtle shell sunglasses and wrinkled tanned face. Route Horizon rearranged itself far more often than other dungeons, but it did so with a pattern that could be mapped out a lot easier. And, as their expedition was set to prove, it should be possible to just off-road to wherever you needed to be, if you knew what direction to go. They¡¯d cut a mostly straight line across the rocky desert, with all three of the navigators that were paired with the delvers sprawling out around the car to dance in what might be the closest things the infomorphs had to natural forms, pointing out the worst rocks or potential course corrections. And when they¡¯d found the train tracks, they¡¯d followed the half-buried route back to where it got close to a road, stopping to leave more beacons for a large scale expedition to follow up on. James was really looking forward to that; he wanted to see if he could board a train, even though he knew that was stupidly dangerous. The group had stopped a few times on the way back, after finding a highway and referencing their shift maps against a couple landmarks. Once for an isolated stretch of power line that had what looked like a dozen perfectly normal crows sitting on it, and once for a parking structure. James had used the Status Quo earring he¡¯d added to his daily kit to stealth his way into the taller building and make off with one of the Velocity gears, and splitting it with the other two had doubled his capacity for the magic. He had three Horizon spells now, after all. And it felt weird to not have an actual reserve of the mana that they all used. And if they were lucky on the torn chunk of a neighborhood map they found, an ancient flier fluttering in the wind stapled to a mile marker by the side of the road, then maybe the Order could add a third common spell to their collective globes. James had missed another delve of both the Ceaseless Stacks, and Officium Mundi, just due to sleep schedule drift. He could have forced himself awake, but that seemed like a bad idea in his still healing condition. So instead, he spent his energy on other things. A big part of it actually being training and conditioning. Small group tactics, different forms of combat, marksmanship - that last one wasn¡¯t especially relevant to James, or so he thought. Nate had given him some choice words about his opinion that James was wasting his potential; skill ranks and Sewer stats pushed him to be better, but imagine what he could do if he tried. So he¡¯d started running drills, even though he wasn¡¯t sure he was actually improving. The exercise potions also let James compress weeks or months of serious workouts into days. Though he wasn¡¯t pushing his body that hard; the potions couldn¡¯t really ¡®heal¡¯ beyond just maximizing the natural recovery from exercise. Wounds, bruises, mental exhaustion, they didn¡¯t do much for that. But he still put in the effort to keep himself in the best physical condition he¡¯d ever been in. He napped in the sunbeams of Clutter Ascent, and threw himself eagerly into the scenery puzzles the dungeon created, and he read some of his favorite short stories to the growing attic dungeon. Well, the dungeon, and also the ten or twenty young stuff animals that gathered to listen to him as well. Half of them leaned harder on the raccoon part of their heritage, while the other half into the salamander. All of them had the spider features turned down, which James felt was a shame. Fredrick, the first of their people, was¡­ unique. And he hoped that didn¡¯t make the older creature feel alone. James was pretty sure the dungeon had made the change because Fredrick was self conscious and worried about his own heavy spider influence on his biology, which he understood, but¡­ Well, he didn¡¯t know what the right answer was. Not that there even was an ¡®answer¡¯, just different paths forward. At one point, he sat down with Karen when the older woman had asked to talk to him. It was oddly personal, and felt out of place, but she¡¯d dived in with typical bluntness. ¡°My daughter wants to court two¡­ people.¡± She¡¯d said. James had just given her an increasing look, leaning forward on the desk until she¡¯d actually phrased a question for him. ¡°My¡­ husband and I,¡± James had caught the pause when Karen spoke about her lost family, ¡°might have had a somewhat ¡®open¡¯ relationship compared to some. But not this. How do I be supportive?¡± It wasn¡¯t the question James had expected. ¡°Honestly? I don¡¯t really know.¡± He¡¯d answered. ¡°I guess if I were telling my parents, what I¡¯d want was for them to not be weird about it. Tell her you¡¯ll be there if she needs help, I guess? Honestly, Karen, poly relationships aren¡¯t that special.¡± ¡°Even when I disapprove of one of her choices?¡± ¡°Morgan isn¡¯t that bad. I assume Morgan is¡­ actually that¡¯s not really my business.¡± James said, and then waved off Karen¡¯s next comment to continue. ¡°You¡¯re her mom. You were always gonna be a little disapproving. Which no kid ever likes, and I assume you can remember living through.¡± Karen nodded slowly. ¡°So even though you know better, let her live the experience. That¡¯s all.¡± Karen had made a comment about James being older than he seemed, which he chose to take as a complement. He¡¯d answered a few of her niche questions about relationship terminology, and then fled the room when she started trying to get him to explain youth slang. At one point, James took a break. A real break. He spent three - well, two and a half - days at home playing video games that he hadn¡¯t had any free time for, and he ordered pizza, and didn¡¯t really talk to anyone. It could have felt lonely, but really, because of how easy it would have been to not be alone if he wanted it, it instead just felt relaxing. It also wasn¡¯t entirely a break. He spent hours during that time trying to figure out how to absorb an orange orb from Officium Mundi, though he got nowhere with it. One day, when he was sitting in the Lair and reading a book on the history of the internet and slowly putting points into his computer science lesson from the Akashic Sewer, Momo had found him and asked when he was going to use his skill points from his ordeal in the Suburb dungeon. James had, actually, kind of forgotten about them. Which was weird on its own, and had sent Momo racing off to find Planner and Speaky and any other infomorph she could get her brain cells on so that she could hunt down any trace of an antimeme. James didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her that he just forgot things a lot. He was pretty sure this was mundane. Zhu had protested that he had also forgotten, and that was kind of weird, and James had given the feathery manifestation a reassuring pet as he pointed out that Zhu was probably exactly as forgetful as James was. ¡°Well that¡¯s horrifying.¡± Zhu had said. ¡°Because you have a memory upgrade and you still forget people¡¯s names.¡± ¡°But not the grocery list anymore!¡± James cheerfully replied, cracking his book back open as Zhu wrapped a glowing wing around the two of them. ¡°Also, let¡¯s make it worse; I have the shell upgrade. You get all my shitty memory without the benefit of dungeon magic.¡± ¡°Get me a copy of that orb.¡± Zhu¡¯s demand had been grumbled partly as a joke. But it had been timed well enough that James had just given an accepting nod, texted the right person, and gotten Zhu a copy of that orb. As it turned out, navigators could crack purple orbs. It wasn¡¯t clear what exactly was the shell being upgraded, but quick testing seemed to indicate the upgrades persisted across manifestations. It was only after they¡¯d messed around with it together for a day or two that James had found a Research report on exactly that, and learned that half the infomorph in the Order had been using orbs for a while. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, okay?¡± He¡¯d apologized to Zhu with a chastised sense of shame. ¡°I forgot! That¡¯s literally what caused this in the first place!¡± His navigator¡¯s feathers had poofed out like an indignant canary. ¡°Unbelievable.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t especially serious, but he made a show of the whole conversation. ¡°You are the worst boyfriend.¡± ¡°Wait, we¡¯re dating?!¡± James had been a bit surprised. ¡°No, but the fact that you believe that you could have forgotten that proves my point!¡± Zhu didn¡¯t elaborate on what his point was. ¡°I am going to sleep. Wake me when the others get home.¡± He¡¯d shivered against James¡¯ skin, a tingling feeling as the orange light that made up his feathers and eyes had burned away to nothing. James had made sure not to forget to do that. He didn¡¯t manage to level up any of his lessons in the time period, despite an Office orb about fish that boosted his Biology lesson by about fifty points. But he still learned a few new things that he felt were useful in the process. Also the history of the internet was cool, and he got twenty or so points closer to learning what the Computer Science lesson gave. When he was recording his progress in the central database the Order kept for the lessons, he noticed that a few other people had leveled up, and there was an interesting pattern. A given lesson, no matter what kind of book it came from, seemed to always give the same three options. Someone had leveled up Reading, and gotten the three choices that the kid who they¡¯d found the Sewer through in the first place had gotten all that time ago. They¡¯d picked Understanding, which James approved of. But what really caught his attention was that someone had leveled Computer Science before. So he had a lot of time to decide, ahead of time, if he wanted Study, Energy, or Composure. Those were all so vague, and the notes were no help at all. But James had to stifle two yawns while reading, so he felt like he knew what he was going to go for. Unrelated to that, he learned how to weld. That was weird, because it was one of James¡¯ first experiences unpacking a skill file through the skulljack. He¡¯d made one, for fencing, and had done what he thought was a pretty good job. But he hadn¡¯t had much time to dabble with the process, since he¡¯d been eternally busy and also nearly dead. But other people had kept dabbling. And the results were starting to get impressive and a little worrying, but not worrying enough that James didn¡¯t still love it. They couldn¡¯t figure out how to blend memory files from two people yet, but they could take the time to compose a .mem (or maybe a .skill?) from two people who were connected to each other. The file the Order had for welding had taken eighteen hours to put together, including the people who were temporarily one person going through actual motions so they could create fresh memories of what they were doing and why that they could hang deeper experience on. When James consumed it, it took eight minutes to transfer through the skulljack braid, and then when he began unpacking it, it¡­ well, skulljacks didn¡¯t have much of a UI, so he didn¡¯t even know how long it took, or if it had a loading bar hidden somewhere. And then later that night, he¡¯d just kind of casually known the difference between TIG and SMAW, and the appropriate times to use a lap joint versus a butt joint. But more than just the information, he felt¡­ changed. A change he recognized in himself, in some ways, and he recognized that the recognition was coming from the enhanced emotional resonance he got from a variety of red orbs. From those small points of realization, he could map the whole of the change in his thoughts; and if he wanted to, he felt like he could have pushed back on it. But he didn¡¯t want to. Because the feelings that came with the knowledge weren¡¯t overwhelming, and they were also constructive. The simple joy of making something, the satisfaction of working with his hands, the feeling of power from being someone who built the world. No emotion was entirely positive. But if James could pick something to broadcast into everyone¡¯s mind in the world all at once, this would be on his short list. Ultimately, he didn¡¯t know when he¡¯d need to weld anything. But if anyone ever needed him, he was available now. And that was what a paladin was for. Also if they ever found a Sewer lesson for shop class, this one file would probably spike someone a whole level or two. _____ James wasn¡¯t recovered. There were sore remnants of bruises just under his skin all across his body, he felt like he couldn¡¯t sleep enough to ever stop being tired, and apparently the act of eating lunch was enough to exhaust him recently. But he didn¡¯t need to be recovered to enjoy himself. Delves weren¡¯t the only way he filled his days, either. James just wasn¡¯t someone who wanted to be doing things every waking hour. Or so he¡¯d thought. He used to love downtime, just playing video games and watching youtube videos in the background. But he had a theory about himself that, now that he actually had things he found exciting and interesting, his downtime included a lot more other people than before. He spent time with his partners, sharing meals and talking about what they¡¯d been up to. Anesh¡¯s visit to his parents had gone¡­ about as well as expected when you tell an older pair of pseudo-traditionalist Indian parents that you¡¯d cloned yourself. Anesh had admitted he¡¯d left off being some kind of bisexual, and polyamorous, because the clone thing was enough of a shock, and James had half-jokingly accused him of fabricating excuses. Alanna, meanwhile, was having a great time showing her sisters the world she lived in. She also admitted that she¡¯d go back to being annoyed by them at some point, but for now, being able to overwhelm people with a new species or spell at every turn helped keep the air of mystery she was cultivating. That, and also she and Sarah were spending a lot of time together, which made James¡¯ heart swell when he saw them. James also did small chores around the Lair and on days when he felt like walking was a big ask he helped out with paperwork in the same building he¡¯d used to have a normal job in. He learned more about the process of guesswork and refinement that they used to look for new potions. He listened to the growing construction crew complain about power hookups in the building. He spent a whole afternoon just listening to Offspring albums with Keeka and enjoying the ratroach¡¯s newly unlocked endless enthusiasm and energy. And the whole time, he talked to people. Small conversations about where they wanted the Order to go, and where they were right now. How they felt about things, and how he could help. What they could change, and what they absolutely would not compromise on. James wasn¡¯t stupid. He knew not everyone would agree with his vision of utopia. But the Order was a really, really good way to slowly draw in and convert people to his way of thinking. What started as an almost accidental level of respect from under a hundred survivors of Officium Mundi had proved to be a very solid foundation to build on when it came to inducting new members. It also helped that they were already working as a proof of concept for a multispecies operation. And slowly, bit by bit, James recovered. Not fully, but maybe eighty percent. Enough that the delves he was still going on against all common sense left him tired but not dead on his feet. Which meant it was the perfect time for something to come up. ¡°Hey.¡± JP had called him when he was standing in the Lair¡¯s ground floor waiting for the elevator, probably a hundred feet away from where his friend actually was right now. ¡°Get your ass up here. I need you for a thing.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James said, stepping between the trio of young camracondas that were waiting behind him as he pivoted. He assumed they were young anyway; most of the ones with the sleeker camera heads and the LED spines were more recently liberated from the dungeon. ¡°What hat am I wearing today?¡± There was a brief pause as James circled the front wall to make his way to the door into their back briefing warehouse, where he just kind of automatically assumed JP was waiting. When his friend spoke next, it was a simple word, and it made James stop smirking. Both because of what was said, and because JP had dropped his normal tone of someone who constantly sounded like they were just a little sarcastic and mocking, and replaced it with someone who was all business. ¡°Paladin.¡± He said. James paused with his hand on the door. He stared at the back of his fingers, still not looking quite familiar with the tiny scar he¡¯d had since he was six years old now missing. Then he took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll be right there.¡± He answered. Then he hung up, and pushed the door open, and got to work. Chapter 242 ¡°The quicker you get up // The harder they fall.¡± -Your Inception, Cassette Beasts OST- _____ James felt prepared for basically anything when he walked into the back briefing warehouse. A space that really needed a better name than ¡®briefing warehouse¡¯, since they only occasionally used it for briefings as opposed to other verbs like ¡®planning¡¯ or ¡®researching¡¯, and they never used it as a warehouse. He wasn¡¯t prepared for a crowd. Not a huge crowd. Not like when they rearranged the space for a forum or strategy meeting and two hundred people showed up and they needed to figure out how many of each kind of chair they needed for the camraconda population. But still more people than he normally saw in the space. This wasn¡¯t just a delve team or two planning for next week or redrawing a map. This was twenty or thirty people, many of whom James recognized as the Order¡¯s problem solvers for when things got dangerous, all of them either in motion to check their armor and weaponry, or sitting with nervous energy. Also JP. ¡°Hey JP.¡± James said, cutting through the crowed of humans, camracondas, infomorphs, and even a couple inhabitors. ¡°I¡¯m here, and you invited me last I guess?¡± JP, James realized, looked prepared for a fight. Not a dungeon fight, but he was wearing the kind of gear that knights wore when they needed to blend in, and yet be ready for anything. Bracers outlined under his tailored suit jacket, and a firearm bracelet just barely visible on his wrist. His other wrist had a bracelet of charm clasps holding tiny blue orbs. James didn¡¯t spot anything else, but he was pretty sure his friend had a concealed holster under his coat. And if he didn¡¯t, it didn¡¯t really matter with their ability to summon weapons out of email attachments. Looking back at the other humans, James saw the whole warehouse was full of people dressed similarly. Street clothing, sometimes augmented with stuff they¡¯d plucked from Officium Mundi, and all of them looking back at him like they expected something. The camracondas were more openly armed and armored, perhaps on the grounds that there was no hiding their presence once they deployed to whatever was happening. James joined him standing in front of a wide whiteboard, covered in marks, and magnetic clasps that held up photos and copied pages. A few video feeds hovered in the air around the edges of the board, a sentence so patently absurd that James had to do a double take before looking at JP with a concerned expression, pointing at one of the camera feeds. ¡°No time for your jokes, sorry man.¡± JP shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s a little time.¡± Ben chimed in from where he was sitting at the table in front of the whiteboard, two laptops and three cell phones active in front of him. The mimic didn¡¯t turn to acknowledge James at all, or to react to JP¡¯s scowl. ¡°The screens are Planner. It¡¯s handy to have a reference.¡± He tossed James a white dress shirt. ¡°Also put this on.¡± James looked at it for a second, and then shrugged and started pulling off his teeshirt to replace with the shirt that smelled lightly of electric salt. ¡°I did not know assignments could do that.¡± James admitted. ¡°Cool. So, this looks like a fucking mess. What did you do?¡± JP had turned to keep an eye on one particular projected video feed, showing what appeared to be a parking lot and the side of a building in Planner¡¯s blue and white light. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re a wizard, right?¡± He said casually. It was weird how the simple words made James¡¯ blood go cold. ¡°¡­Why?¡± He asked with a deep suspicion as he rolled up his personal shirt and stuck it on Ben¡¯s desk. ¡°I mean, you¡¯ve consistently had a lot of small but useful insights into the magic side of what we do.¡± JP clarified. ¡°Like absorbing blues, or making friends with memes.¡± ¡°To be fair, I think that one was mostly Daniel.¡± James remarked. ¡°I think? Keeping track of the timeline is hard. Whatever. What¡¯s your question?¡± ¡°How often do you see patterns?¡± JP asked, his voice grim. James paused, eyeing his friend before answering slowly. ¡°What kind of patterns?¡± He asked. ¡°Dungeon patterns? Sure. Especially now that we¡¯ve seen more. Themes and motifs emerge when you can look at a bigger picture.¡± He realized he might be rambling, but wasn¡¯t sure what JP meant, so he just tried to answer. ¡°There¡¯s the constant push and pull of risk and reward, or how they all copy from their surroundings, but always get more divergent the farther in you go, or how there¡¯s always at least one mimic-type life form.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Not a lot of pattern in how they behave though, aside from a bent toward the literal. I do earnestly believe they¡¯re people. Or at least people-adjacent.¡± ¡°And what about in our lives?¡± JP said quietly, his eyes drilling into James as he turned away from the video projection. James blinked. ¡°You mean something like what the Status Quo administrator said, don¡¯t you?¡± He asked. ¡°About how delver teams were always three people. And how we¡¯ve seen the same pattern, in the kids from Utah, in groups inside the Order. You¡¯re talking about¡­ about some kind of fate magic.¡± His mind went back to the diplomatic meeting with an alchemist that turned into a brawl, and a woman with knives in her hair saying something about fate. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Yeah, me neither.¡± JP said. ¡°But this sure looks fucking familiar.¡± James studied the video that Planner was throwing up for everyone. ¡°This looks like an office complex.¡± He said. Three stout square buildings in a right angle, with the upper floors connected and archways between them for cars to go through. The fourth quadrant of the grid was taken up by a halfhearted attempt at landscaping, loading docks, and the exit back onto a side road. Behind the offices, another almost identical set of structures sat, and then a third replication of the pattern, with a parking structure at the end of them, which meant that parking sucked for everyone in the other two buildings. They curved around a small dirt hill that, according to the printed map on the board, separated the office park from a freeway. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with it? Is it a dungeon?¡± JP started pointing at prints of photos or video screencaps, copied documents, drivers licenses and other IDs, and a lot of stuff James was pretty sure it was super illegal to have collected in terms of personal information. ¡°Well, let¡¯s start with the obvious. We think this building is New York¡¯s Status Quo. Earlier today, we believe they brought two people in for questioning or ¡®processing¡¯, most likely delvers. Knowing how these fuckers work, the third person is probably already dead. Identities of the victims are pending, but we think that Martez Mitchell is one of the ones still alive.¡± JP tapped a pinned frame with a bunch of questions drawn in dry erase marker around it. ¡°JP, what the fuck are we still doing here?¡± James asked in an abruptly serious tone. ¡°Why-¡° ¡°I made a call.¡± JP said, voice carefully neutral. ¡°I¡¯ll explain myself later. Right now, moving on to the next problem.¡± ¡°Beyond just the-!¡° JP silenced James by ignoring the heat in his growing protests and continuing his talk in a studied voice. He tapped his finger on the mugshot of a late twenties black man, angry eyes staring out of the camera. ¡°Herc Vandal. Last name unrelated to his profession.¡± ¡°First name?¡± James had to ask. ¡°Not his given name.¡± JP answered without pause. ¡°He runs a nameless neighborhood gang. Not a great guy, not evil either, rogue report on him is as one of those dudes who has a kind of strong sense of personal honor, even if he is a criminal. You wouldn¡¯t know anything about that.¡± JP slipped the joke in unnoticed. ¡°And before you ask, I bring him up because this is security footage of him, in the driver¡¯s seat of a box van, with eight of his foot soldiers in the back. Parked in front of the NYSQ building.¡± ¡°Did you just pronounce it ¡®nisk¡¯?¡± A withering look got shot James¡¯ way for that comment. ¡°Next problem¡­¡± ¡°What the fuck is happening?¡± James had to ask. Ben started laughing. A nervous squeak of a noise that was somehow still charming. A few of the assembled knights, waiting in a loosely organized group past the desk Ben was at, gave nervous chuckles as they heard the sound, which actually made James more tense. ¡°So, the Alchemist thing was sort of before my time. But the reports say people just kept showing up to a brawl?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ben nodded. ¡°Sorry JP, keep going.¡± His friend flicked back a finger through the side of his hair, and then brought the digit around to one of Planner¡¯s projected screens, of a car idling on the side road. ¡°This is Brian Brianson, and Liam Lori. FBI.¡± ¡°Oh good!¡± James couldn¡¯t help the comment. ¡°Wait, really?¡± JP nodded and moved his finger up slightly to a written note of ¡®confirmed by Malcom¡¯ on the whiteboard. ¡°Holy fuck, who else is here?¡± ¡°Well, we don¡¯t know who this is.¡± JP said, directing James to a looped video of a man clearly breaking into one of the loading dock doors. He looked a little older, salt and pepper hair and a face that looked like he never once in his life got enough sleep. ¡°But he also showed an FBI badge to a security guard at one of the other buildings. He¡¯s not FBI though.¡± ¡°Cool. Cool cool cool. Okay. You know what, that¡¯s manageable. So, what¡¯s our plan? Send me in to negotiate, then raid the building? Because I¡¯m not super interested in letting another Status Quo just keep operating. Maybe we can steal more magical items from them.¡± ¡°The proper term is looting.¡± Ben offered. ¡°Also, we- oh fuck me.¡± His eyes didn¡¯t leave the screens in front of him. ¡°Planner, put this up, please. Now.¡± He pointed at the board, and the ghostly infomorph complied. James barely saw a wisp of a tentacle moving before another box of video footage emerged. ¡°This is from Yin, on top of the parking garage.¡± It was an unsteady phone camera feed, but James could clearly see what the rogue was pointing at. There were a number of people walking between the parking structure and the buildings, it was around lunchtime after all. That wasn¡¯t unusual. What was unusual was the way two of those people were, very obviously, wearing heavy plate armor. And everyone else was shying away from them. ¡°Is that¡­ Camille?¡± James asked, eyebrows raised. ¡°Is that two Camilles?¡± JP¡¯s answer was in the same voice he used to order fast food. ¡°Looks like it.¡± ¡°Is that two Camilles heading for building three of the Status Quo office?¡± James asked a probing question. ¡°Sure seems that way.¡± JP nodded, folding his arms and leaning back to tap his foot on the concrete floor. James waited. And then decided to stop waiting. ¡°Should we be doing something here?!¡± He asked. ¡°What are we waiting for?¡± There was a pop of air, and El appeared about a hundred feet away facing the rear shutter door of the briefing warehouse. She tried to play off her stumble as nothing, brushing her blonde bangs out of her eyes as she turned and started half-jogging back over to them. ¡°Speaky says there¡¯s infomorphs there.¡± El said. ¡°Something new, which, fuck I dunno, probably bad.¡± ¡°They are silent!¡± The little fish shaped infomorph hiding in El¡¯s hair announced in a loud squeak of a voice. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re waiting for.¡± JP said, handing James a telepad, which got slipped into a pocket, and then another telepad with a pointed look. James still took that one, but he rolled his eyes as he did so. ¡°Unless you¡¯re using a veto, let¡¯s get ready.¡± James wasn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t see the full picture of what was going on, but he decided to generally trust JP, and also he had absolutely no love for Status Quo in any of its forms. From what the Order understood of the organization at this point, there was no singular Status Quo, but things like them popped up all the time. Suspiciously like them. He also knew the last time they¡¯d met something like Status Quo, they¡¯d taken something important from him. But a personal grudge wasn¡¯t a good reason to just show up and start shooting. He shook his head at JP. ¡°What¡¯s our plan here? What¡¯s our objective?¡± Nate¡¯s voice came from behind James like the big man had appeared out of nowhere, but without the pop of air a teleport used to announce people. ¡°Leave the plan to us.¡± He said, getting a shocked jump from James. ¡°You think everyone¡¯s here for show? Fuck off. You¡¯ll go in the front door with JP, and everyone here is backup for when something goes to shit.¡± He looked at Planner¡¯s projected images, including the looped shot of a pair of the Last Line Of Defense¡¯s daughters walking down a sidewalk between buildings. ¡°Like it hasn¡¯t already.¡± ¡°Okay, I get that we¡¯re on a timeline, but what are we doing?¡± James demanded. ¡°Help me understand why we even bother taking this risk.¡± ¡°Ruining someone¡¯s day.¡± JP said. ¡°No. Not good enough.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Sure, fuck these guys. But risking lives just to be a problem? JP, no.¡± JP took a breath through his nose, and turned to face James, the side of his head illuminated lightly by Planner¡¯s ongoing projections. ¡°There¡¯s five different groups of interest here, right now, at least. And there¡¯s about to be a lot of chaos happening. This is our chance to crack open a source of real answers. Not to mention the fact that whoever Status Quo just kidnapped, no one deserves that. I¡¯ve fucking seen the .mem footage of what you found last time, I¡¯m not interested in letting that happen again. I know I¡¯m a selfish bastard, but no one deserves that.¡± JP said the familiar words with his usual aplomb, but James had a sudden sense that maybe they just weren¡¯t quite so true anymore. ¡°James, we¡¯re ready to go, and we don¡¯t have a lot of time left. Yes or no?¡± James glanced at the board of names and images, and then looked back to the assembled knights who were studying other similar whiteboards that had maps and labels on them. He noticed Alex was there, and felt a moment of guilty surprise; he didn¡¯t honestly expect the young woman would ever have wanted to do fieldwork again. But here she was, armored and armed, helping someone else properly slot a ballistic plate. He looked back at JP. Tried to find anything in his friend¡¯s face that would tell him if this was a good idea or not. His gut said no. But James¡¯ gut, even when being improved via the mundane magic of antidepressants, was still guided way too much by his own anxiety. He needed to be more calculating, and less afraid. What did they stand to gain here? Well, JP was right. This was a path to some answers, and an opportunity to exploit the upcoming chaos. No one in that building would have an easy time dealing with the Order if they were also dealing with everyone else converging on the site. It was the perfect time to move. And also, people did need them. James doubted a pair of FBI agents were going to be able to get a building full of anti-magic authoritarians to give up prisoners. Which meant the Order was probably going to have to step up. But also, there were a lot of moving parts here. A lot of people who clearly had some plans in action. And James knew already that he actively disliked at least a couple of them. Spoiling those plans would be a win for humanity as a whole, as well as his own sense of smug satisfaction. What did they stand to lose though? That was easy. Lives. Taking injuries they couldn¡¯t undo. Losing dungeontech. Or even just failure that got other innocents hurt in the crossfire. But mostly lives. James lost himself thinking in circles for a minute. Trying to balance risk and reward in a way that went directly against his own personal principles. It wasn¡¯t long before a voice broke him out of it, and he was surprised to find it was Alanna. ¡°Hey.¡± His girlfriend said, tapping a loose fist on his shoulder with surprisingly little force. James gave her a growing smile, then faltered as he saw her wrapped in their improved combat armor, a heavy rifle slung on her front and a sledgehammer strapped across her back. ¡°Everyone here either remembers these fuckers, or learned about them after joining and hates them anyway. Let¡¯s fuck ¡®em up. We know what we¡¯re doing.¡± He saw the eyes of the other knights in the room focused on him, and then looked back and nodded at her. ¡°Okay.¡± James said quietly. Then louder to JP and Nate. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go.¡± The others began moving, and while it wasn¡¯t exactly well oiled clockwork, there was a level of trained coordination that the Order had been collectively working on that hadn¡¯t been there before. Nate¡¯s voice boomed out as he waded through the crowd, directing knights to their teams and giving orders for engagement. Team leads double checked with Ben, preparing telepads to their primary and secondary positions. Across the room, green light bloomed as half the people present let their authorities manifest fully; pieces of green tinted clothing unspooling into projected armor clad around parts of their bodies. Verbal confirmations rang out as people opened up skulljack links and began coordinating via local signal. Small orders got layered on. The proper target protocol before even beginning to point a weapon at anyone. The instruction to not make contact with the rogues on site unless they needed direct help. The grim reminder of what to do if someone went down in a fight. Someone handed James a gun, and he took it and added it to his belt without thinking as JP gave an approving grunt. ¡°Okay. Tuck your stupid ponytail back over your skulljack braid. I can¡¯t believe you got fucking melted and didn¡¯t lose your hair, that¡¯s so goddamn unfair.¡± He muttered. ¡°Here, here, and here¡­¡± He pointed to different parts of the map on the whiteboard. ¡°This is where the overwatch teams will cover us from. If we need to leave via roof, team four and five are air support. Here, clip this to something. GPS tracker. Any team can relocate onto us if we need close support.¡± JP offered James a hand as he finished with everything. ¡°You ready?¡± He asked, flicking at a telepad. ¡°No.¡± James said. But he was still caught up in the organized motion and called commands echoing through the warehouse. The people around him didn¡¯t look like a cluster of survivors anymore. They looked experienced, and prepared. They looked like fighters, and not just people who were making a desperate move to lash out at a threat. He wasn¡¯t sure when they¡¯d changed from a group of ragtag people thrown together by chance into something that felt like an actual order, but in the moment, James really felt like everyone else was earning the name. ¡°Well, too bad.¡± JP said, bobbing his open hand and reaching out to grab James when he wasn¡¯t fast enough. ¡°Well, at least I¡¯ve got experience getting my ass kicked in this office environment.¡± James said. ¡°This is going to be a fucking disaster, isn¡¯t it?¡± JP didn¡¯t even have the good grace to pretend to be embarrassed. Or perhaps he simply didn¡¯t feel like he had the time. ¡°Not if we can be as good as we talk ourselves up.¡± He said. ¡°Touch¨¦. Zhu, you good?¡± A feeling of assent came from James¡¯ chest, the navigator staying hidden for now. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s get in there.¡± James gave a nod of admission. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The two of them vanished. _____ For some people, telepads were a confusing way to travel. A sudden shift to somewhere else without any clear reason? Human brains didn¡¯t like that. The transition of the telepads was, weirdly, not that disorienting for James. Unless he was using one in or out of a dungeon, which was always a bad time. Now, though, it was easy. One second he was in the briefing warehouse, and in that same second he was next to JP as the two of them were walking toward the front lobby of an office complex. The entire building was, through a few shell companies, run by whatever this Status Quo group called themselves. They barely bothered to hide, probably trusting the uncomfortable field effect that made people¡¯s minds slide off of weird stuff to keep their secret well enough. ¡®Well enough¡¯ was probably always good enough for their group of armed thugs. Still, they maintained pretenses, and the lobby of the building was pretty mundane. Some kind of beige stone floor, wood paneling on everything that was probably supposed to make the place feel warm and modern, but really just showed off cut corners in the construction budget as there were awkward fits everywhere, and the whole open space mostly given over to a bank of elevators and a hub for hallways that led to the actual rented spaces. ¡°Okay.¡± JP sent to James silently as they established a skulljack connection while walking up the concrete path through a professionally manicured lawn that looked like it had seen better days despite the landscaping. ¡°We¡¯re gonna play this by ear, but let¡¯s go with investigating a bomb threat.¡± James flicked his eyes sideways, trying to get used to the skulljack firmware that made him think he was ¡®seeing¡¯ JP¡¯s viewpoint. He could, he¡¯d been practicing, it just took him a minute. ¡°They¡¯re not gonna buy that.¡± He sent back as he reached the door and tugged at the thick brass bar to open it for JP. ¡°Let¡¯s go with the blunt approach. Tell them we¡¯re here about a missing person¡¯s case, and we need to look around.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll want a warrant.¡± JP countered as the two of them adjusted their collars almost in unison, walking past the elevators toward the receptionist¡¯s desk. ¡°One guard on duty.¡± He noted. ¡°Are any of these shell companies tech related?¡± ¡°Yeah, Ben¡¯s sending us a list now. Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna tell him that the Patriot Act applies and we don¡¯t need a warrant.¡± They were talking fast with their silent chatter, but approaching the desk quickly. James felt a plan taking shape though. ¡°You think this dude will buy that?¡± James snorted, loud enough that JP could hear. ¡°It¡¯s actually literally true. Or it would be if we weren¡¯t committing fraud. Besides, what¡¯s he gonna do? Either call the cops or start shooting? Either one forces his hand. Primary objective, get the victims out, okay? Easier if we get to them before Team Camille shows up.¡± ¡°Agreed. You want to lead or should I?¡± The two of them stopped in front of the unpleasantly angular desk that the reception was sitting behind, pulling out their fake FBI badges at the same time. James made a slight ¡®go ahead¡¯ motion, and JP huffed out a tiny sigh as he started speaking aloud. ¡°Good afternoon. Agent Webb, FBI. We¡¯re investigating a missing person¡¯s case, and I¡¯ll need you to put the phone down sir.¡± The desk was set in an open area near the elevators, partly in view of the various doors into the building, at a kind of crossroads. It was also in an open part, where the second floor overhead was peeled away into a mild mezzanine. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry?¡± It was on closer inspection that James realized the middle aged man behind the counter was older than he¡¯d thought. Lines around the face and stiff hands, he had his health but he was showing his years. ¡°Is there a problem?¡± ¡°Yes. We¡¯ll need to see your security camera footage.¡± JP motioned to James, who started circling the desk. ¡°And this is your only warning not to contact anyone in the building.¡± He put a kind of smug authority into his words. ¡°Now, pull up the recordings of this lobby, and the entrances to both other buildings for the past hour.¡± He ordered. The man almost obeyed on reflex; there was just something about JP that made him feel like he should be in charge. But then he remembered something; probably who he actually answered to. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m gonna need a warrant if you want-¡° ¡°Section two fifteen.¡± James said in a humorless tone, doing his best to loom behind the guy. ¡°The Patriot Act applies here, sir. You do not have the right to refuse a search order pertaining to national security. Pull up the footage, or we will place you under arrest.¡± Actually saying it out loud made James feel gross. Technically, even members of Status Quo should have constitutional rights. Though the Order had been scoping out the place for a while, so maybe he shouldn¡¯t be a hypocrite. Also, and this was more relevant, he had spotted the exact moment when the man relaxed. He wasn¡¯t Alanna, he didn¡¯t have magic empathy powers, but he knew what he was looking at. The dude had just concluded that they were bog-standard feds, and that if he actually needed to, he could take them in a fight. He¡¯d even changed his breathing ever so slightly in preparation. James didn¡¯t know where that little bit of esoteric combat knowledge came from, but he gave a quick thanks to whatever yellow orb it was. ¡°Ah, shit.¡± JP¡¯s silent voice brought James¡¯ eyes up from where he was carefully watching the four monitors that were concealed behind the desk as the security guard moved to pull up what they¡¯d demanded. The fact that he was complying made James think there was some extra layer of security somewhere, but JP¡¯s comment made him worry about something new. ¡°Company.¡± James glanced in the direction JP was looking, just as a man and a woman that James had previously seen in Planner¡¯s security footage stomped forward. He brushed off JP¡¯s comment that their suits were clearly bought off a rack last night, and instead tried to look unconcerned as the woman barked out an order. ¡°Step away from the desk. FBI.¡± She held up a badge, just as the man next to her did the same. Affecting an unconcerned aura as he did the same with his own, James made a show of leaning across the desk to check her badge. Liam Lori, it read, which answered which of them was which. Then two different skills started pinging in his brain, and he couldn¡¯t keep a confused scrunch off his face. ¡°Sorry, you¡¯re actually FBI?¡± It wasn¡¯t really a question. ¡°Excuse me?¡± The woman seemed offended. Well, she certainly snapped like she was offended. Her partner pocketed his badge before James could inspect it, too. ¡°What are you doing here? This is an active investigation.¡± The words sounded¡­ off, now that he was looking for it. Though he couldn¡¯t place how. JP pinged him with a similar thought, and an instruction to back off. But James was James, and his mouth was already moving. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re actually an FBI agent. So why is your badge a forgery?¡± ¡°Oh my god.¡± JP muttered, wiping a hand over his face in exasperation, unintentionally letting his coat¡¯s sleeve slip down to show off the glint of the bracelet he was wearing. ¡°You fucking¡­¡± ¡°See, I said this was a bad idea.¡± The other actual-maybe agent, Brians, said. His voice was as deep as he was tall, and he was bigger than everyone there. ¡°We should¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m calling my boss.¡± The security guard reached for his phone, and four people turned on him in unison to yell at him to stop, the single echoed word only briefly giving him pause before he picked up the receiver anyway. The two fake FBI agents drew their guns and shot him. Repeatedly. James jerked at the sudden eruption of sound, his heart rate going from slightly above normal to fast enough to double as an outboard motor in a split second. The bitter tang of adrenaline flooded his mouth as the guard¡¯s chair went flying, the man toppling backward with a series of motions like he was a puppet being yanked around. JP had his gun up and was yelling something, and James wondered on a shaking delay if maybe he should do the same. He blinked, the world feeling like it was moving in slow motion as he started to reach for one of his weapons, and the man turned his pistol on James. His face looked serious but, crucially, he didn¡¯t fire. ¡°We¡¯re just here for our friends.¡± He said, circling the desk and approaching the computers, keeping his pistol trained on James while JP and the woman faced each other down. ¡°Don¡¯t get in our way please.¡± Up close, because he was already looking for weird stuff and because his brain was completely out of his control at the moment, James noticed something that was bizarre even for him. The man¡¯s suit jacket, a kind of rumpled beige article, wasn¡¯t¡­ moving right. It was moving like it was affixed to him. And as soon as James noticed that, it wasn¡¯t a huge leap to see that he couldn¡¯t actually see anything under the clothing. ¡°Oh!¡± He gasped the word out with a feeling of relief. ¡°Look! Outliers! See, we¡¯re not the only weird thing defying patterns around here.¡± He turned to give JP a relaxed look as he sent the words silently, his hands still shaking, but at least he felt like he knew what was happening. ¡°They¡¯re mimics.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± JP also spoke out loud as he cocked an eyebrow at the non-fed he was in a standoff with, along with a slight smirk. ¡°Do you have anything?¡± She asked her partner, ignoring JP¡¯s possible flirtation. James sighed. ¡°Stop flirting with them until we¡¯re out of here.¡± He rolled his eyes at JP. ¡°You¡¯re here for the delvers they just brought in. You¡¯re not human, might actually be native dungeon life, and you¡¯re in some kind of symbiotic partnership with the people who found, rescued, kidnapped, or some combination of those things.¡± He gave the doors a nervous glance. ¡°Stop me if I¡¯m getting anything wrong. Also hurry up.¡± ¡°How do you know that?!¡± The woman snapped her handgun toward James, and he took a second to swap one of his bracers to 9mm. The shield bracers could be a real problem in a tactical situation when you were blocking your ally¡¯s shots around you, so he¡¯d left it off until he knew what they needed to be stopping. ¡°I like her.¡± JP sent to him. ¡°Read them in.¡± And then out loud, to the man who was staring at James and not getting security footage, he added, ¡°Seriously, you should hurry that up, we¡¯re on the clock.¡± James glared at her. ¡°Stop pointing that at me. We¡¯re literally here to help you, though we didn¡¯t know it coming in.¡± He pointed to himself and JP. ¡°James, JP, Order of Endless Rooms.¡± He considered nudging Zhu out to prove a point, but decided to keep the navigator as a hidden backup for now. Zhu, still not capable of communicating fully when not manifested, gave a pulse of agreement, and settled in. ¡°We¡¯re here to rescue a couple people, and also gather intelligence on these assholes. Do you want our help?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t possibly trust-¡° ¡°Yup.¡± The man cut his partner off. ¡°I¡¯m Ruby, this is Prince. Found them, sort of. They got brought in through the back, taken to¡­ that building¡­¡± he pointed down one of the wider halls, ¡°and then upstairs. No cameras up there. Aaaaand this place just got cut off.¡± ¡°I wonder if they noticed that you were shooting their-¡° JP abruptly stopped his quip as the security guard, who was not dead, flipped over onto his back, leveled his own weapon, and tried to double tap the two closest people. Which didn¡¯t work, because James¡¯ shield was absolutely up now. ¡°Shit!¡± He barked in time with Prince, both of them returning fire, though only Prince dove for cover. Her bullets also chipped off more of James¡¯ shield charges, while JP¡¯s slapped the guard back to the floor, and sent him sliding farther back along the stone surface. James really should have noticed the guy wasn¡¯t bleeding. ¡°Stop shooting me!¡± James yelled over his shoulder as he ran toward the man, grabbing the back of the rolling chair that had been knocked over a minute earlier, and flexing his muscles to fling it into the guy¡¯s face. The guard tilted his gun arm to block it, and the hit didn¡¯t seem to do anything, but it did put him out of position to keep shooting as James rushed him and kicked him in the side of the head, carefully not triggering his greave. Then when the man - dazed but still moving far better than someone who had just been kicked in the head should be - tried to bring his pistol up to focus on James while he was inside the bracer¡¯s range, James kicked him again, then knee dropped onto his chest, grabbing his wrist in both hands and twisting his body to wrench the gun away from him. As he rolled off and snatched up the discarded pistol, the guard rolled onto his side with a moan, and coughed wetly. Which was the first blood they¡¯d seen from someone who had been shot ten times. Which was worrying. ¡°What the fuck is up with these guys putting their tanks as receptionists?!¡± James asked rhetorically as he kicked the man in the back of the head again with a hard thud. ¡°No, don¡¯t answer that. We need to move before¡­¡± Upstairs, through the mezzanine¡¯s open walls, James heard doors being slammed open and the sound of running. ¡°Shit.¡± JP didn¡¯t seem concerned. ¡°They¡¯ll be busy soon. Camille¡¯s just entered the building. And we¡¯ve got a lot of movement upstairs.¡± He casually reached over and plucked a pen off the desk out of an overturned wire basket. Tilting his head like he was listening, he started writing an address. ¡°Let¡¯s reposition.¡± He held out a hand and James hustled over to grab it. ¡°You two coming?¡± The non-fed non-human duo looked at each other, one of them a little more dazed than his more irate counterpart. ¡°Fine. Touch?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± James grabbed her, and with the four of them linked up, JP pulled the telepad just as JP saw four people dropping down from the second floor like they¡¯d just leapt over the railing. He barely had time to recognize that they weren¡¯t falling at the proper speed before they were gone. _____ Alanna tried not to be nervous as James and JP blipped away. She knew this was what he wanted to be doing, but if they were going to be fighting humans who used guns, then she¡¯d prefer if he were wearing ballistic plates and Kevlar. A glance to the side and she tried to not be nervous about her teammates either. Smoke-And-Ember she worked with constantly, and the camraconda was busy running dexterity drills with the new limb pack he was wearing. It had two longer arms for actually grabbing stuff, and two shorter, vastly more sturdy arms that could fold up to the chest when not in use, which were specifically for manipulating and aiming handguns. Around him, a scarf made of forest green light wafted in wind that wasn¡¯t there. Ember¡¯s authority, Quoth, was more developed than Alanna¡¯s barely-hatched one, and was focused on communication and support Next to him was Alex, who looked as nervous as Alanna was trying not to feel. It was weird, Alanna mused, letting the incongruent thought distract her. While Alanna had been with James on more dungeon delves than anyone else, and it was practically their biggest shared hobby these days, she was pretty sure it was Alex who had been with her boyfriend for the most operations on normal Earth. At least two, anyway. Alanna was never around when James was getting shot at or teleported to a hostile dungeon. ¡°Ready.¡± Smoke-And-Ember¡¯s digital voice echoed between spoken aloud and sent across their team skulljack link. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m¡­ yeah. Ready.¡± Alex was tugging on her breaker glove, fidgeting with every strap on her armor. She didn¡¯t look ready at all. ¡°We¡¯ve got this.¡± Alanna said. ¡°They couldn¡¯t kill us last time, right?¡± Smoke-And-Ember stared at her so intently Alanna wondered if he was trying to freeze her. ¡°What a terrible metric.¡± He said. ¡°Who taught you statistics?¡± ¡°I dunno, probably a dungeon, if we¡¯re being honest.¡± Alanna sighed, and then gave a satisfied smirk as she got a burst of nervous laughter from Alex. ¡°Seriously. We got this. We¡¯re professionals.¡± She said that last part while looking right at Alex, willing the younger woman to believe in them. ¡°Right.¡± Alex nodded repeatedly. Across the briefing warehouse, Nate¡¯s voice barked out commands as Ben rattled off an updated feed of information from the knights already on site. Two duos of human and paper drake vanished in telepads; neither of them were Pendragon sized yet, and wouldn¡¯t be for a year or two at least, but they could carry one or two extra passengers if they were pushed. ¡°Team two!¡± Nate¡¯s shout got their attention. ¡°Rogues on site will link up with your team, be ready to support! Final prep, then deploy!¡± Alanna took a deep breath, then nodded, and flipped the cap on the water bottle she had open, and took a long drink. Her teammates did the same, though Alex was a lot less reluctant than she was. Alanna hated this stuff. The potion that made her even more bulletproof was nice, in a technical sense, because she didn¡¯t want to die. But the numbing of her emotions made her feel a little too much like a weapon and less like a wielder. It wasn¡¯t too bad if they didn¡¯t abuse it, but even a little bit left her worried. Still, they had a job to do. So she drank her potion, and then another pull from a provided bottle of pre-battle exercise potion, just to make sure she operated at her peak. Then they rapidly linked up and teleported out. The parking structure they warped into still had cars in it, and at least some of them belonged to civilians. Civilians who weren¡¯t Status Quo, anyway. Alanna supposed that SQ agents were technically not military, though she was mildly concerned that the hardening potion was making her more pedantic. Myles greeted her with a wave, and Alanna cocked an eyebrow at the high-vis vest and yellow hard hat he was wearing. ¡°Camera feeds are tricked. Yin and I have the place blocked off on the fourth level. You¡¯re clear to use the upstairs as a post. Right there will give you the best view.¡± He pointed to a section of the outside wall where the concrete was mostly covered by a pickup truck and a practically antique sedan. ¡°We¡¯ll need the small car moved. I¡¯ll use the pickup bed. The wall¡¯s too high otherwise.¡± Alex gave a nod. ¡°I can fix that one of two ways.¡± She offered. ¡°Move the car.¡± Alanna stated, deciding that demolishing part of the structure would be too noticeable. As Alex found the car¡¯s door unlocked and got to work hotwiring it, Myles pointlessly wished them luck and went back to keeping distractions from using the stairs or going over their line of orange cones, and Alanna popped the back of the truck down so she could hop up into the bed. After helping Smoke-And-Ember up, the camraconda hissing in annoyance at the height of the truck, she unslung her rifle and lined up on the far building, while the camraconda set up a custom scope on an identical bipod next to her. ¡°I have the daughters in sight.¡± He sent across their skulljack link. ¡°They are being deliberately ignored by many people, but are heading for the target building.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Alex rejoined them, having stuck the sedan in the middle of the smooth ramp blocking off four identical white vans. ¡°Getting our entrance set up.¡± She started writing out multiple telepads, doing frequent checks with Ben for address verification and visual checks out the side of the parking structure as she prepared a few possible angles of approach. And then they settled in to wait. For how long, Alanna didn¡¯t know. But the one good point of the hardening potion was that she didn¡¯t care about it that much. Still felt a little boring though. And then, abruptly, she had something to focus on. After not a very long time at all. ¡°Gunfire.¡± She reported, knowing that Ben and Planner and anyone else were watching through her eyes back at the Lair. ¡°Aaaand more gunfire. Bracer flash. I don¡¯t have a good line on them from here.¡± She should have repositioned, Alanna mentally tsked. ¡°They¡¯re repositioning. Two new pickups.¡± Ben¡¯s message came in text form, and didn¡¯t indicate where James would be going to. Alanna sent back a rapid request for clarification, as she watched the forms of people burst into action on the upper floors. Some people seemed legitimately panicked by the gunfire, hiding under desks or looking out the windows like they were searching for the source, while others were clearly armed and running for what they knew was the source. ¡°Status Quo¡¯s office might be mixed with civilians, be advised.¡± She broadcast to every knight on their network. ¡°Problem.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said. Alanna let his authority reset her scope, and instantly saw what he was talking about. Both of the daughters of the Last Line Of Defense had reached the outer corner of the Status Quo building, and one of them had just pointed up at the third floor. The other one shifted, and then jumped, leaving a cracked crater in the sidewalk before her sister followed her. ¡°Well shit.¡± Alanna¡¯s emotions weren¡¯t so deadened that she couldn¡¯t feel a little concern as the two slammed through a plate glass window, a few loose shards tumbling to the bushes that surrounded the building. Status Quo agents inside reacted almost instantly, splitting into three clear groups as they moved to intercept both James and the new threat. It happened fast, and Alanna was a little frustrated to just be watching. ¡°I could start picking off agents.¡± She offered. ¡°We don¡¯t want to give ourselves away yet.¡± Smoke-And-Ember reminded her. Alanna checked an incoming message from Ben. ¡°Shit. Small caliber bullets don¡¯t do anything to them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fair.¡± Alex gave a sad nod. ¡°They don¡¯t to us either.¡± From the second floor of the building opposite where the daughters had made their entrance, something traced an angry bright line out toward a vehicle parked by a curb, and a second later there was a flash of fire. ¡°FBI agent¡¯s car exploded.¡± Alanna reported, a little surprised that hadn¡¯t gotten her heart rate up. ¡°The gang members are scattering from their van and rushing the building.¡± ¡°Oh good, this is going exactly as planned.¡± Smoke-And-Ember hissed a sigh under the digital words. A message came in. James and JP were in the back of the building and reentering, heading for the second floor where they had traced the kidnapped delvers. No contact yet. The sound of gunfire started to pick up. Like distant hail, Alanna thought. Heavy smacks that could mean anything from sustained suppression to meaningless snapshots to individual announcements of someone dying. Then the screams. Normal people walking to their offices, or going on their lunch breaks, who were starting to realize that something was going very wrong. ¡°Damn. Second floor definitely has non-squo people.¡± Alex said flatly. ¡°No nerf gun for that.¡± ¡°Third floor?¡± Alanna asked. She¡¯d look herself, but she was trying to find whoever was blowing up suspicious cars. They¡¯d taken out another two, and the area was rapidly turning into a war zone. ¡°Nate, tell me I can shoot this one.¡± ¡°Shoot that one.¡± Nate told her. ¡°But also get ready to move. There¡¯s-¡° Nate cut off. ¡°Jamming. Local test.¡± Alanna pinged her teamamates, and they answered. Everyone else in the area did too. ¡°Okay. We¡¯re on our own, but we have a plan.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°Route through me, I¡¯ll stay here and direct. Alex, Ember, get ready to move. James is gonna need you to bail his ass out.¡± ¡°Got it.¡° They spoke in unison, the camraconda slithering over the edge to join Alex. Alanna spotted a flash of a shield bracer through a window, and got a message from JP. ¡°Okay. Second floor, west side. Don¡¯t go for a flank or you¡¯ll get pincered. Just link up and punch through.¡± ¡°Fireballs okay?¡± Alex asked. Alanna gave her an affirmative. ¡°Be careful with it. Go.¡± The two of them vanished, and Alanna was left alone with only a pair of underarmed rogues to watch her back. She breathed, her mind feeling a little sluggish on complex planning, but not overwhelmed or panicked. Then she redirected her attention. Frequency-Of-Sunlight wanted to move her team to offer covert support to the gang moving on the building. Alanna swept her rifle in that direction, and made a call. Anyone Status Quo was shooting at was closer to an ally than an enemy. She¡¯d worry about if that was the right call later. Right now, she had a strategy to oversee. Right after she tasked one of the flyers to look for anything that might be jamming them, because she would really rather have Ben, Planner, and Nate doing this. Alanna¡¯s job was supposed to be punching anyone who fucked with her boyfriend. It was where she excelled. Below her, the shooting intensified, and the battle started to get chaotic. Somewhere down there, James was doing something stupid. Alanna could feel it. Chapter 243 ¡°In the stories my people tell - the old ones, the ones that matter - the hero loses her mentor. She lives, grieves, and moves on to save the world. ¡­ It should have been me. Not her. My hero is dead, and all she wanted, all she fought so hard for...was just a home. The simplest thing. The smallest.¡± -Ajani Goldmane, Release- _____ James popped his head around the corner of a small hallway. The things spread like connective tissue through the building, linking up rented offices, public bathrooms, scattered vending machines, and stairwell access doors. Currently, he, JP, and the two non-FBI agents following them were on the second floor, There were six men and women in slacks and dress shirts just outside a pair of glass double doors, in the process of checking pistols and splitting up. The web of hallways meant that they might not come this way, but James wasn¡¯t going to bet on it. ¡°Six SQ agents.¡± He pinged to JP. Mostly uselessly, too, since JP was also watching his visual feed through the skulljack. ¡°Options?¡± ¡°Back off, avoid the stair and elevator spots, see if we can loop past them.¡± JP offered. ¡°Seems unlikely though. There must have been cameras coming through the stairs.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t see any.¡± James was glad he couldn¡¯t sound defensive over text. ¡°But they must have seen us coming in through the back.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a lot of people coming in. I doubt we¡¯re a priority.¡± ¡°We shot their front desk guy.¡± ¡°Ruby and Prince shot their front desk guy.¡± JP corrected. ¡°Also I bet it¡¯s hard to keep track of teleporters in a fight like this.¡± James gave a small nod, and dared to take another peek. ¡°Two, headed this way. We need to be across the building to our left, right?¡± ¡°Going off what we got, yeah, there¡¯s an ¡®urgent care office¡¯ there that the victims got taken into.¡± JP sighed in physical space, before adding, ¡°Tell whoever¡¯s job it is to hurry up making or growing or whatever a proper map HUD for these things.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James rolled his eyes, and then shot a look at the duo pretending to be FBI agents and switching to talking out loud. ¡°Alright. That way. We¡¯re gonna circle around to get to where they took your friends, find them, then teleport out.¡± There was an impact from what felt like directly over them, hard enough that bits of dust shook loose from the lightweight white ceiling tiles and the building felt like it rattled. ¡°If we move fast, we can avoid that.¡± He added, pointing up. ¡°Zhu. Wake up.¡± ¡°How are you doing that?¡± The male mimic, Ruby, asked with curiosity, looking between James and JP. ¡°And how are you doing that?!¡± The second question was asked with a little more concern as Zhu¡¯s feathery form of orange light and avian eyes unfolded from James¡¯ shoulder and left arm, dusty illuminated smoke rippling down to create a body for the navigator. ¡°Magic cybernetics, and magic¡­ uh¡­ friendship.¡± James answered. ¡°I am a separate order of morphology, I am not made of friendship.¡± Zhu sounded exasperated. Though he did add, ¡°But also, we are friends. Now go this way. As of mapping, there is one conflict between you and your goal.¡± ¡°Great.¡± James said flatly, checking his gun¡¯s magazine and watching as the others did the same. ¡°JP and I in front. You two watch our backs, don¡¯t fire if you¡¯re more than three feet behind us.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Prince demanded in that sharp and direct voice of hers. James took a deep breath, trying to focus through the knowledge that he was about to get shot at. ¡°Shields. Going out is fine, going in is bad. Limited uses. And it looks like everyone in this fucking building is using nine mil, which is a huge oversight.¡± ¡°Oh, is that all?¡± She held up her gun and seemed to glare at it, and there was a soft ripple around the object. Like a soap bubble about to pop. And then it settled in, and the gun slowly changed, blotches of it becoming something else. ¡°There. Different caliber.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ yeah, okay.¡± James titled his head in the universal gesture for someone who should have seen that coming. ¡°Well don¡¯t shoot me. Let¡¯s move.¡± The group started moving in the direction of the hall that Zhu pointed James down, and James instantly realized how weird it was working with people he hadn¡¯t been training with. JP moved two steps back from him, on his left, the man checking the doors they rapidly moved past just in case. They gave each other exactly enough space, and when they reached the first intersection, they checked each side in unison. In contrast, Ruby and Prince walked too close behind him, and James had no instinctive idea what they were doing. It didn¡¯t matter, they had other problems. Though he did indicate they should keep more distance, he wasn¡¯t sure if they¡¯d listen. The hallway they were coming up on was the main hall for this floor, the backbone with the elevators. They needed to cross it, and then there was just a quick left turn to get where they were going. But James and JP¡¯s quick check showed that there were twenty people out there, spread across each direction, and it didn¡¯t look like they were preparing to head down. He listened to their chatter for a few seconds. The elevators were out, they were saying, and they needed to get upstairs, there was some kind of monster attacking. James gave a bitter smirk thinking about Camille¡¯s ongoing rampage, though he absolutely wanted to be out of here before meeting either of the sisters. Last time, it took focused relationstick powers from twenty people to let him almost injure one of them, and this time, they hadn¡¯t had time to gather those people, and also there were no communications out anyway. Then he had a stupid idea. ¡°I just remembered we¡¯re not in armor. Walk like you mean it.¡± He ordered the others. Then he dropped one hand to his side to hold his pistol against his leg, straightened his back, let Zhu slip under his clothing, and then stepped out of cover. Walking with purpose toward the other side of the wide hall, like he owned the place. ¡°Shit.¡± JP said, and moved to follow, slapping a scowl on his face like he was annoyed at the person in front of him. A good scowl in situations like this was worth a lot. People didn¡¯t want to get in the way of a scowl. ¡°Come on.¡± He muttered to the others, and was annoyed to see in his peripheral vision that they weren¡¯t walking right. Too nervous. JP knew how to lie in his walk, and James just used whatever bullshit confidence he¡¯d found in himself to overpower the situation, but the two new additions would be what gave it away, if anything. James felt like every one of the Status Quo agent¡¯s eyes were on him as he walked across the hall, though logically he knew that not all of them would be looking at him. He didn¡¯t even glance their direction. Either this worked or it didn¡¯t. It was only about ten steps, and then he back in the cover of the side hall¡¯s walls and the mass produced abstract wall art that covered them. JP was right behind him, and then their two new friends hurried to catch up. Maybe they hurried a little too fast. The shout from behind them was short, and quickly went quiet. No sense letting someone you¡¯d noticed know you were onto them. ¡°Shit.¡± James said as he heard running footsteps coming up behind them. ¡°Your plan was shit!¡± Ruby yelled at him as he fired a trio of shots at the corner, causing whoever was following them to jerk back but also absolutely ruining any chance that someone would think that this was just a misunderstanding. Footsteps turned into shouts, and then a muffled quiet, while JP grabbed Ruby¡¯s collar - which James tried not to think of as skin in the moment - and yanked him forward. The hall didn¡¯t end, but it did have a T intersection coming up that was their goal, and James knew from years of power walking though hostile office environments exactly how long it would take them to reach that corner. Then, between a beige padded bench and a square pot that held a fake plant that was somehow dying anyway, the door to one of the small office spaces opened. And ahead of them, a woman holding an axe and crackling with small sparks stepped out ahead of their group. ¡°Oh come on!¡± JP bemoaned loudly. James spoke fast, words running into each other. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any chance that you¡¯re not with the - shit.¡± None of his shield bracers were set for axe, and the woman¡¯s eyes locked onto them with a violent intent only a second before she rushed them. James ducked the first swipe, a brutally efficient swing that stopped on a dime after it was clear it hadn¡¯t hit him, and then sprang up inside her guard, trying to connect with a punch while she was out of position. It didn¡¯t work. The agent let go of her hold on the shaft of her weapon, grabbed it in a reverse grip, and slammed her own loaded fist back at James¡¯ face. The encounter quickly turned into a rapid sequence of traded blows, both of them moving faster than humans were normally supposed to, though James was pretty sure he had the advantage there. What he didn¡¯t have an advantage in was in raw durability, as evidenced when he did manage to connect a hook into the side of her neck, and didn¡¯t do more than rustle the collar of her dress shirt. It also left James with his hand tingling from an electric shock, but he was pretty sure from the mild surprise on her focused face that it was supposed to hurt him more than that. Then she knocked him off guard, and twisted her axe around in a downward chop, which was stopped only by a mix of Zhu catching it and her having to reposition to handle JP coming in from the side. His human friend body-checking her and yelping at the sparks while the navigator caught the weapon at an inhuman angle, before JP took advantage of the short space created to shoot her twice. In the legs, JP wasn¡¯t aiming to kill, but still. It didn¡¯t do anything, except for rattle James a little even through his ear protection. At most, it knocked her back a few steps. ¡°Okay!¡± He said. ¡°That is really unfair that-!¡± He didn¡¯t get to finish as the people at the far end of the hallway started shooting in their direction, at least a few bullets being deflected by his bracer. James wasted an impulsive second checking how many charges he had left, and didn¡¯t like that it was under thirty. Behind them, the two mimics took cover behind the open office door and started shooting back at the agents down the hall, none of whom were particularly bothered. James would have taken the time to be irked about how none of these people seemed to be bothered by being shot, but he was busy trying to not get chopped in half. ¡°So, we¡¯re here because you guys kidnapped some people!¡± He yelped out as he rolled over a rapid slice, the broad head of the weapon almost catching his pants before JP kicked the woman¡¯s arm and stopped a followup strike. ¡°You seem pretty cool, wanna be the anime trope where we beat you in a fight, and then you become our friend?¡± ¡°Stop talking.¡± The woman said, flicking something out of a pocket inside of her sleeve and popping it in her mouth. JP shifted to the side, flanking her with James, both of them aware that this was wasting time and they couldn¡¯t afford to get surrounded. ¡°We could go another way. The whole office attire barbarian look is really hot, if you want - hurgkh!¡° In response to JP¡¯s attempt at flirting, the woman mule kicked him back into the potted plant, keeping her eyes on James as she dismissed JP as a threat and whipped her axe back into position. With James hemmed in by the hallway, he wasn¡¯t in a good position to dodge. So he didn¡¯t. Instead, going off a rough outline of a plan he and JP were throwing at each other over their link, he leaned on [Move Person], and brought his friend up right at the woman¡¯s flank as she lifted her weapon. And JP stabbed her. It took him some effort, but his sudden appearance and the element of surprise meant he had time to get his knife up to her throat, and pull hard back against the woman¡¯s dense skin. Hard enough that it was a surprise when after he drew blood, the rest of the blade followed in a sudden jerking motion. He kept his grip as the enemy agent stumbled back, the blade ripping out with a wet tearing that sprayed blood out of her throat onto the carpet, her hands dropping the axe, eyes going wide as she leaned forward and stared up at them. ¡°Oh shit.¡± JP whispered to himself. He wasn¡¯t used to this. He wasn¡¯t some professional killer. James wasn¡¯t either. But he also wasn¡¯t in the mood for charity for someone who was acting as door guard for a bunch of kidnappers. So he kicked her in the chest and sent her sprawling to the ground, still trying to hold her blood in. Maybe she¡¯d make it, James didn¡¯t care, what mattered was she was out of the way. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± He ordered everyone, flinching as another bullet hit his shield. ¡°Now!¡± Behind them, barely respecting the suppressive fire Prince and Ruby were putting down, Status Quo agents started approaching. Taking cover behind doors or the furniture that lined the hallway, but mostly just shooting back. Some of those offices, James realized, weren¡¯t Status Quo¡¯s. Most of this building was, but there were legitimate civilians here, and the screams of panic he could hear were legitimate. Then, as they approached the corner, James got a fantastic message from over his skulljack. ¡°Almost there. Coming up the stairs.¡± At the other end of the hall, a door was flung open, and two people stepped out. James and his group were running now, and he had to yell at Ruby to not shoot at Alex, as the four of them made it to the turn in the hall they needed. Shoving the mimics first, covering them from being shot with their bracers, James and JP followed rapidly. There were two men waiting for them around the corner, and James was shooting before he really processed that he was supposed to be getting ambushed. The bullets didn¡¯t kill them, just knocked them around, but he was pretty good at putting bullets where he wanted them to go, and emptying his magazine twice into one of the guards was basically the same as pinning him to the wall with rabbit punches, by which point James had advanced enough to actually just punch the guy until he dropped. ¡°Okay.¡± He was breathing hard and fast. ¡°This door?¡± ¡°This door.¡± JP nodded, adjusting his collar. ¡°Take a breath. You two okay?¡± ¡°Less talking! We need to move, they¡¯ll be right behind us!¡± Prince snapped at him. James didn¡¯t laugh, because he didn¡¯t have the energy. ¡°No. We¡¯ve got cover.¡± He said. As if on cue, a roaring ball of plasma flashed past where they¡¯d just left the hallway. Then, a second later, another three in a perfect spread pattern. The sound was like a thunderclap in the confined space, overwhelming James¡¯ ear protection briefly. He wondered if the mimics had some kind of magical hearing, or if that had just really hurt. Behind them, the gunshots stopped. And then the sound of screaming intensified. ¡°We¡¯ve got you covered.¡± Alex¡¯s message across their link came. ¡°Get ¡®em and get out.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James messaged back, a perverse part of his brain feeling like he should say more than that. Or at least say something cooler. That would have been a good time for an ¡°Acknowledged.¡± Or something. Neither knowing nor caring about James¡¯ badly timed social anxiety, JP shoved open the doors to the fake urgent care office, and led them in, gun up. The place was empty, just a front waiting room with too-bright lights, and a dominating multi-person desk flanked by two doors that led to presumably back exam rooms. Despite being empty, though, there were signs that at least some people had left in a hurry recently. One of the phones was dangling over the front of the desk, the boxy plastic base hanging by a cord as the handset lay on the floor. Papers were scattered on the floor, slowly being pushed by the air conditioning. And one of the back doors was ajar. Not a soul in sight. It was, after running into a dozen Status Quo agents just walking around the hallways, unsettling. James noted with an eye to design sensibilities as they moved in that the benches and chairs were set up so there were straight lines to the back of the office; a poor use of the space if you actually expected people to wait, but excellent if you were planning on bringing captives through and basically nothing else. ¡°Probably out looking for us.¡± James commented. Though he wasn¡¯t sure if he believed that. ¡°Or the Cams. Or any of the fifty other people here today.¡± JP mused. ¡°Left or right?¡± ¡°Left.¡± Zhu spoke authoritatively from James¡¯ arm. ¡°Because the other one is sealed and it would take more explosives than we have to breach it. Also I don¡¯t like this.¡± ¡°Left it is.¡± James reasoned that if the door was ajar, it was less likely to be locked or trapped. ¡°You two doing okay?¡± He asked the pair of fake feds following them. ¡°I¡¯m not used to being shot at this much.¡± Ruby commented, trying to sound bold and casual about it but giving up the game when his hands shook as he smoothed out his hair. ¡°I¡¯m good. Didn¡¯t get hurt enough stop me. Prince? Hey?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± The woman looked up after a second of delay. ¡°Oh. Me. I¡¯ve been hit.¡± She held out her arm that had a nasty looking hole in it, the false organic nature of her jacket revealed as the sleeve bled. ¡°I¡¯ll live.¡± ¡°We can teleport you out.¡± James offered. She shook her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I don¡¯t need the arm, and no offense, but we don¡¯t have the same priorities here.¡± ¡°Fair enough. Let¡¯s move.¡± James stepped up to the door, JP taking the other side. Both of them kept their guns drawn and angled forward. With a glance and a nod, James kicked the door and swung it inward, while JP crossed in front of him with his gun up and James followed to cover the other side. Again he got a reminder that their new allies weren¡¯t good at this, when they just walked in side by side, but that was the least of his worries when he realized what they¡¯d just walked into. James hadn¡¯t actually been expecting a doctor¡¯s office. He wasn¡¯t sure what he expected, but despite the camoflauge of the waiting room¡¯s rows of chairs and bad lighting, he knew that any space where a Status Quo esque group was taking prisoners wasn¡¯t going to be good. Still, despite being prepared for some kind of weird surprise, it actually did catch James off guard to be walking into a prison. And not just a prison, but what appeared to be the lower level of a prison with at least three floors overhead. Metal railings and cells with iron bars formed into a cylinder, with wide hallways that had space for ramps leading up or down at three points on every level. Then James realized that even this level had a railing in the middle instead of a solid floor. They weren¡¯t even on the ground floor. Though he wasn¡¯t sure if the other floors had the massive vault-like door on the far side that this one did; a goliath of hardened steel and concrete that was presumably keeping something safe. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°James, we just lost your GPS.¡± Alanna¡¯s signature sent a text message his way as James and JP moved past the abandoned guard post. ¡°You alive?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± He sent back. ¡°We found¡­ this.¡± He opened up his visual feed, spending bandwidth to let the others see what he and JP were looking at. It was hard to find the words to describe the place. Because through the red emergency lighting and the sharp angle, it wasn¡¯t hard to see that some of the cells here were full of people. ¡°Well fuck me.¡± Ruby¡¯s warbling voice breathed out. ¡°How are we supposed to find them in this?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not.¡± James said with a frosty conviction. ¡°We¡¯ll get them all out, and sort it out later. Anyone see any-¡° a bullet pinged off the lines of the dome of light his shield bracer threw up at the last second to keep him safe. ¡°-guards. Dammit.¡± James didn¡¯t even bother taking cover, he just lined up his pistol on the second level where the shot had come from, and when the Status Quo prison guard popped his head out again, James triggered his gun bracelet and pulled hard on his aim enhancement, and put three bullets into the man¡¯s skull. It still didn¡¯t kill him, which was getting a little weird, but if that didn¡¯t give a guy a headache and buy them some breathing room, James wasn¡¯t really sure what he was supposed to do. Behind him, JP was making plans. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need an exit for¡­ oh, shit, I dunno. Thirty people or so? And this place is warped somehow, it cannot fit in the building. Keep them off us for a little bit while we work. Any updates on the others?¡± While he plotted, James stepped up to the railing and looked down. Two more levels below them, two more above. They needed to get moving. And none of the prisoners were even reacting to the gunfire, or their presence. Everyone was just¡­ idling. He looked at the few occupied cells on their level, and saw people just staring at the walls, or laying on cots unmoving. Still breathing, still alive, but like they were in a daze. With a focused effort through his skulljack, James accessed the USB stick that stored internet connection, and from there, got into a certain emergency supply email address the Order used. He had a few ideas on how to get people out, but [Move Person] had limited charges, and even if it didn¡¯t, James and JP had a limit to how much use of it they could withstand. So instead, James opened a few attachments, and started grabbing strips of thermite out of the air as they appeared. ¡°Our backup is falling back to the medical office.¡± JP reported to James as he collected tools to rip open cell doors. ¡°We can collect people there.¡± ¡°Alright. I look forward to this plan falling apart.¡± James handed him a rope of thermite. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work. And I hope things are a little less chaotic outside.¡± The look JP gave him was expected, but still a little worrying. _____ Frequency-Of-Sunlight was, technically, in the kind of danger that Deb had really really nicely asked her to stop putting herself in. Though, also technically, Deb hadn¡¯t really asked; she¡¯d just sort of heavily implied it, and then hugged Sunny, and then one thing had led to another and that conversation never got finished exactly. Assuming she survived, there was probably going to be a much harsher version of that conversation. Her girlfriend wasn¡¯t exactly happy with her drive to really earn her knight title. Right now, though she was staring at an incoming grenade, and trying to solve a puzzle. It wasn¡¯t clear who had thrown or fired it, but once the shooting started, the screams of the civilians in the area had escalated. Sunny¡¯s team had been sent in from the reserve to get as many people out as possible; Nate had given them clear orders to not bother checking if someone was Status Quo or not; if people were leaving the fight, let them. And they¡¯d arrived just in time to funnel twenty panicked people away from where someone in the target building kept blowing up cars. Then there¡¯d been an explosion from the third floor; part of a wall and a window vanishing in a cloud of smoke and debris, tiny chunks of concrete and plaster raining down around them. She didn¡¯t really remember who called it, but someone saw the second grenade coming in, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight had stopped it in midair while her teammates shoved and cajoled everyone into the parking structure that offered a lot more protection from errant bullets. One of the screaming office workers, a girl who reminded Frequency-Of-Sunlight a lot of Alex actually, had clipped her on the side when running past. It wasn¡¯t much, but it jolted the camraconda¡¯s view just enough that she¡¯d ¡®blinked¡¯. Now she was staring at a grenade that was quite a lot closer to her head than she¡¯d wanted. And inside her shield bracer range too, not that she even knew what to set it to for this. The grenade was olive green and kind of oblong, and it had some writing on the side that was upside down right now. What did you tell a shield bracer to make it stop that? She hadn¡¯t even gotten a chance to yell ¡®red light¡¯ at it, which meant she couldn¡¯t be amused as she stared with deliberate care at the object of her doom. Sunny focused. She needed to get away. A quick check with her teammates through the skulljack showed that they¡¯d gotten most of the people clear, and there was no one near her. Actually that was bad on its own; a single camraconda half in the open was a target. It took her teammates too long to reply, too; humans were too slow on the skulljack interface. ¡°How big of an explosion do these make?¡± She asked to anyone listening, sending an image. ¡°I don¡¯t want to get blown up again.¡± Nate answered her in his ploddingly slow text three seconds later. ¡°Fifteen meters safe distance.¡± Too far for [Move Person]. But not if she wasn¡¯t the only one using it. She relayed her rapid thought to her team, and then counted down on their channel before shoving herself backward. As soon as she did, the grenade plinked off the sidewalk, and she found her perspective jerked again as she was moved, and then moved once more, the light shifting as one final jolt pulled her into the interior of the parking structure. Outside, the grenade exploded, but the only casualty was a bed of azaleas. ¡°Thanks.¡± She told her teammates, projecting the word into her physical voice as she reflexively hissed out a sight of relief. Then she tilted her head slightly as she focused on a second message. ¡°Unconfirmed civilian has been shot on the east side of the combat zone. We are closest. Shall we?¡± The question was an invitation, but also she was already moving, and trusting the others to follow. The ground was a little rough on her cables, and she had to really push to move as fast as a sprinting human, but Frequency-Of-Sunlight believed in leading by example. And right now, their job was to make sure no one died if they could help it. At least, not outside the building. Inside, she was sure, was a picture of chaos. _____ ¡°Fuck.¡± Was the first thing Nate said when their communications went down. Followed by a much louder ¡°Fuck!¡± And then a series of attempts at increasingly creative swears that didn¡¯t really amount to much. He and Ben weren¡¯t the last two here, but they were close. There was one more rapid reaction team, but it was pretty much just Ethan and his Winter¡¯s Climb crew, which meant that they were a last resort. Nate would deploy into the field himself before he sent them; they were kids who had a problem killing actual dungeon monsters, they weren¡¯t prepared mentally or skillfully to be fighting humans. Though they did know their Mountain. Nate still found actually having magic fucking weird, especially the kind that made him feel chilled to the bone to use it, but having the option for a moment of invulnerability, or potentially setting someone on fire from twenty feet away, were both game changers. Right now, though, he was busy swearing, while Ben and Planner tried to reestablish connections. ¡°I can still feel them.¡± Planner stated. ¡°Communication at range is¡­ challenging for me, on this scale. But I could speak to single people.¡± ¡°Testing something.¡± Ben said, then he tore a slip of paper and vanished. Twenty seconds later, the friend was back with an unhappy look on his face. ¡°Telepads in and out work. Magic works. It¡¯s electronic jamming, and it¡¯s absolutely magic bullshit, because they¡¯ve got comms up inside it. Alanna is taking command.¡± Nate folded his arms and stared at the series of camera feeds Planner was projecting for them. He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. What he wanted to say was to demand a skulljack braid, and get in there himself to make sure everything ran smoothly. But¡­ there whole point of having an operator here was to feed information to the others. Jumping in wouldn¡¯t solve the problem. ¡°Planner, focus on Alanna if you can.¡± He ordered. ¡°Ben and I will point out anything you need to bring to her attention.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Planner was always uncomfortably deferent to Nate, and it made the man¡¯s teeth itch. He didn¡¯t correct the informorph this time though. ¡°What¡¯s the situation look like?¡± Ben grimaced, sitting back down and flicking his eyes across a dozen viewpoints. ¡°We¡¯ve got all the exterior cameras, and everything from the other two buildings, plus street cams. But the building Status Quo are using doesn¡¯t have anything on a wireless network; we know they¡¯ve got internal cams though. That street gang made the back of the building under fire, three people down, Frequency-Of-Sunlight is retrieving them now. The building has a semi-circle of exploded cars that are still on fire now, because someone lacks restraint or target prioritization. James found a spatially contorted prison facility, and picked up new friends. And it looks like he¡¯s in the clear because Status Quo seems to be mobilizing everyone to try to stop the two Camilles.¡± At the last one, Ben made a physical and mental gesture to Planner, and the infomorph enlarged a video feed from a commandeered traffic camera that was now aimed in the direction of the office complex. The quality was poor, to say the least, but Ben rewound it to just after the two sisters had breached the third floor, and Nate winced as he mentally counted casualties through the windows. Platemail had gone out of fashion for a reason; enough metal to stop a bullet was enough metal to just build a tank. But despite wearing gear out of style for a hundred years, neither Camille seemed to care about the gunfire sent their way. The first blast that rattled Nate¡¯s teeth through the camera and took out a chunk of the building also failed to stop either of them as they punched through the growing ranks of defenders and deeper into the building. He was pretty sure one of them had slapped a grenade out of the air. And when they did hit someone, that person tended to stay down. Both women were carrying maces that looked more like chunks of rebar than real weapons, and durable or not, the agents weren¡¯t giving them much trouble. Not from what Nate could see at least. ¡°That¡¯s going to be a problem.¡± He heard himself mutter. ¡°Where¡¯s the map of the building?¡± Nate asked openly. Ben fumbled for a second, while Planner just reached over to the desk with a grasping hand and pulled up the blueprint they had unrolled there. ¡°Here.¡± The infomorph held it up against the main board, and then made a scribbling noise like they were deep in thought, before dropping glowing points of light around where they knew people were. ¡°The sisters went in the third floor, but where are they going?¡± Nate asked. ¡°What¡¯s the orientation of that camera, did we see where they left that outer room?¡± ¡°I can follow them across to¡­ here?¡± Ben said, and looked up, raising an arm to point to a spot on the blueprint. ¡°No, that¡­ dammit, I¡¯m not a cartographer. Or an architect. We should have kept James¡­ here.¡± He pointed to one of the doors more certainly this time. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°They¡¯re headed into the building. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if Status Quo has all sorts of secrets they¡¯re hiding, but let¡¯s skip to the part where we know they¡¯re going to intercept team one.¡± Ben stared at the map, then the replay of the swath of destruction the girls had left, on loop again. ¡°Fuck.¡± He muttered. ¡°Planner, can you stop¡­ wait, sorry.¡± Ben turned back to one of his computers and reset the video himself to a live feed. ¡°So, what are we supposed to do? Pull them out now? It¡¯s safest.¡± Long ghostly teal tentacles and hands shifted around the room, forming a frame as Planner spoke. ¡°They have found prisoners.¡± The infomorph stated. ¡°We can¡¯t abandon them. They won¡¯t have a second chance.¡± ¡°We won¡¯t have a second chance if this goes bad. We¡¯re banking on no one being ID¡¯d, and being able to get out clean, otherwise we¡¯ll be on the back end of this shit again.¡± Nate growled. ¡°It would be easier if shooting them killed them.¡± ¡°We have yet to try higher calibers?¡± Planner suggested. ¡°Good point. Ethan!¡± Nate barked at the team leader, who flinched in a way that reinforced Nates thought that the kid wasn¡¯t ready. ¡°Armory! Get me a rifle!¡± ¡°What¡­¡± ¡°M24, full load, mundane bullets if that¡¯s a thing we have to give a fuck about now. Move.¡± Nate¡¯s voice didn¡¯t really invite argument. Ethan snapped off a salute, the kid who¡¯d been big enough to play football not even five years ago in high school suddenly looking quite small. ¡°Yes sir!¡± He practically squawked as he bolted off. ¡°You¡¯re going in?¡± Ben asked, starting to clear space on the table between them. ¡°You have a problem with- what are you doing?¡± Ben pointed to the things he was pulling up from under the desk. ¡°Hardening, reflexes, incorprit- incorapal- ghost potion, exercise for if you need to run.¡± He tapped a series of color coded flasks on a belt. ¡°Skulljack braid for linking up when you¡¯re in the AO. Switch your shirt to this one, it makes you harder to notice and I already had it fit for you.¡± ¡°¡­¡± Nate wanted to make a comment, but he was caught completely off guard. ¡°Not gonna tell me to not murder people?¡± ¡°We barely know anything about these people, but all the evidence is that they¡¯re a different copy of the group your¡­ our records have some pretty extensive notes on. Mostly cause you stole all their archives. Nate, what the fuck do you think those people would do to me if they found out I was even alive?¡± Nate shrugged. ¡°Hadn¡¯t thought about it.¡± ¡°They don¡¯t say it, but they¡¯re just human supremacists. Not just that, but mundane supremacists. Baseline or bust. And, like all Nazis, they¡¯re hypocrites, because it¡¯s fine if they use magic to get what they want.¡± Ben took a shaking breath, he hadn¡¯t realized how angry he was. ¡°James is worried about our friends getting hurt, you¡¯re worried about us getting tagged and followed home, you know what I¡¯m worried about? I¡¯m worried that you¡¯re wasting time not changing your damn shirt, because there¡¯s people who need a bullet in the skull, and you¡¯re inexplicably a better shot than James is.¡± There was a moment when Ben was worried that the human was going to litigate his use of the word Nazi. But then, abruptly, Nate gave a tiny incline of his head, and started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a barrel chest of hair and concealed tattoos before he grabbed the dungeontech that Ben was offering him and slung it on. Ben was mildly impressed that Nate got dressed faster than anyone he¡¯d ever seen, a weirdly niche skill put to work here as the man strapped the belt of potions on, and spent the most time awkwardly trying to clip a skulljack braid into an augment that he was still new to. Then Ethan arrived with his weapon, and Nate took it from the panting young man¡¯s hands, mechanically checking every part of it. ¡°Got any messages I should pass on?¡± ¡°Planner¡¯s working on the important stuff. Keep an eye out for that one guy in a suit that snuck in the back door?¡± Ben said. ¡°They¡¯re all wearing suits.¡± Nate refrained from rolling his eyes, that wasn¡¯t his style. But he still put some disdain in his voice. Ben scoffed at him. ¡°He had a nice suit. Three button jacket, perfect cuffs, lapel roll to two, it¡¯s a good suit. And he looks like a fucking model in it, Nate. I look like what people want to see and I don¡¯t look that good.¡± ¡°What the fuck is happening here?¡± Nate muttered as he grabbed the telepad and yanked it, putting him on top of building one of the office complex. Ben stared at where the man had vanished from. ¡°Just trying to lighten the mood.¡± He sighed, turning back to stare at video feeds and watch for unforeseen crises. ¡°And some asshole gave me a suit skill orb. Also it¡¯s a nice suit.¡± He stopped muttering as he realized Ethan and Marlea were staring at him with worried looks. ¡°Ahem. Planner, can you relay to Alanna that there¡¯s a group of civilians sheltering on floor two of the target building here?¡± He pointed to what he hoped was the right office. ¡°Send Frequency-Of-Sunlight and her team to get them out.¡± ¡°Right away.¡± The infomorph said. And then, adding in a quiet voice while they split their focus, added, ¡°I, too, would be undesirable in their perfectly normal world.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ben muttered. ¡°Well. Good thing we¡¯ve got Nate, and a series of progressively larger guns.¡± ¡°They have guns too.¡± ¡°They don¡¯t have Nate though.¡± _____ ¡°There¡¯s fire trucks approaching from the freeway.¡± Momo¡¯s text over to Alanna was about six seconds ahead of Planner¡¯s voice whispering the same thing to her. One message from a girl high in the sky in the larger of the two paper dragons, the other from an infomorph relaying from a guy who¡¯d hacked every traffic camera in the US. Alanna processed the information, then sent a request for clarification. ¡°No police?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Momo shot back instantly. ¡°Police scanner doesn¡¯t show them riled up about anything either. It¡¯s like they just don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± Alanna grunted as she followed Myles in a crouch walk around an inside wall of the parking structure. After she¡¯d taken a shot at the guy with the car-exploding spell, her position had been the next point the Status Quo agents that weren¡¯t occupied had focused on. Now she and Myles were moving to another spot, where Alanna would mostly hunker down and try to direct the fight without getting shot at. Being shot at was terrifying. Even with the shield bracers, there was no promise that you were set to block the right kind of bullet, or that you had charges left, or that you wouldn¡¯t get caught by a grenade or something. And Alanna was really, really durable, but when her brain had caught up to the noises like wasps taking chunks out of the concrete around her head, she¡¯d realized that someone was trying to murder her, and she¡¯d almost dropped into a panic state. Humans weren¡¯t meant for this. It was different in a dungeon fight; things there were more honest about how they tried to kill you. Or her time in Response, because most people just didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone at all, really, not once you got them talking. This was different. And terrifying. And she was having a hard time focusing on any word aside from terrifying, which she¡¯d thought six or seven times now. But Alanna¡¯s secret weapon was that she was also fucking furious at these assholes, and right now, that was getting her through. She¡¯d talk to James about dealing with PTSD later, after the trigger happy wizard police were gone. Risking a peek out of the parking garage, she saw a group of people running across the target office¡¯s rooftop, and they didn¡¯t look like they were armed. Using her rifle scope to take a closer look, it became clear they were civilians, and she had a brief spike of fresh anger that Status Quo had just taken over half of a building and let everyone else keep using the rest of it like it was normal. It made it really hard to just, for example, demolish the whole thing in a fireball. ¡°Davedragon. Panicking civilians on the roof. Get them out of there please. Calmly.¡± Alanna sent. ¡°Do not call us that.¡± Dave and Pendragon sounded exasperated in a way that Alanna knew was all on the big girl and not on her human friend. Dave didn¡¯t really express exasperation. ¡°Descending now.¡± ¡°Team four. Watch for anyone taking shots at Pendave. Call it, but don¡¯t fire back.¡± Alanna sent to Bea¡¯s group. She could trust the inhabitor to keep calm. ¡°Does anyone have eyes on James?¡± ¡°I¡¯m inside a magical prison, no one should see me.¡± James sent back. Alanna wanted to quip with him. But she crammed that urge down. It would make her feel better, it would help her be less afraid of instant death in the form of a stray bullet, and it would certainly just be fun. But there was more going on that she had to focus on. Sort of. For all that there was gunfire nearby, and a half dozen different groups throwing themselves into the fray, the Order wasn¡¯t really in it. The most contact they¡¯d made were Alex and Smoke-And-Ember laying down cover for James and his cadre. And those two had already backed off, staying out of range of a flank and drawing away half the agents anyway. Part of Alanna¡¯s brain wondered if JP had made a mistake, and this wasn¡¯t actually a Status Quo cell, or sect, or whatever they were called. But it was hard to argue with the way their agents had a shoot-first-question-maybe-later policy. If the kidnapping and creepy prison facility wasn¡¯t enough evidence, that would at the very least tip her toward not trusting them. ¡°Problem.¡± James sent across the link, and Alanna tensed up as she followed Myles around a corner and up a ramp to find a new vantage point. ¡°The prisoners are inert.¡± ¡°Dead?¡± She sent back. ¡°Not moving.¡± JP clarified. ¡°They¡¯re alive, their eyes are open and they¡¯re breathing, but they aren¡¯t reacting to anything and fuck shit incoming.¡° His message ended in abrupt profanity. Alanna considered what their options were as James and JP flagged themselves as in combat. Then she tapped Myles on the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯re moving in. Get Yin.¡± She ordered. Alanna checked something rapidly with Planner and a few other viewpoints. And then over her skulljack connection to everyone in the area, sent out a broad command. ¡°All teams not helping civilians or in the air, prepare to telepad to building rear entrance. Potion and orb precombat use now. Get ready.¡± She nervously flicked a thumb across the battle rifle she was carrying as Yin came running up to them. ¡°R-ready.¡± The girl announced, saluting like she¡¯d been conscripted. ¡°You two can sit this one out. I know you¡¯re not fighters. Fuck, I¡¯m not either, and I¡¯ve literally been training for this.¡± Alanna muttered. But neither of them made any move to do anything except offer her a hand and a telepad. ¡°Alright.¡± Alanna tried to keep her expression serious. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Make sure your bracers are set, okay? I don¡¯t wanna watch either of you die.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the nicest thing anyone¡¯s ever said to me.¡± Yin commented brightly. Alanna caught Myles giving the girl a very put upon look. ¡°You had the worst childhood I¡¯ve ever heard of, and I grew up Catholic.¡± He grumbled. Then, before Alanna could think too much about that dynamic, he tore their telepad on the countdown with the others, and they blipped into place just outside the building at the same point James had made his second entrance. Slinging her rifle up to a shooting stance and dropping into a half crouch, Alanna moved to the front and kicked the door open. ¡°On me. Let¡¯s go.¡± She said without preamble, a part of her watching the viewpoints of the others behind her as she walked in and swept across the hallway, stairs, and the package sorting room. It felt a lot more comfortable going into a fight with a couple camracondas at her side, at least. Time for Alanna¡¯s least favorite hobby; bailing her boyfriend out of a fight. Chapter 244 ¡°It was among the strongest feelings of grief I have ever encountered. The contrast between the vicious coldness of space and the warm nurturing of Earth below filled me with overwhelming sadness. Every day, we are confronted with the knowledge of further destruction of Earth at our hands: the extinction of animal species, of flora and fauna . . . things that took five billion years to evolve, and suddenly we will never see them again because of the interference of mankind. It filled me with dread. My trip to space was supposed to be a celebration; instead, it felt like a funeral.¡± -William Shatner, on his trip to space- __ James had been in a small local jail, once, as part of a field trip when he was in fourth grade. A time so absurdly far in his past that it felt like ancient history, and the fact that it felt that far away in the first place really brought him an unsettling amount of perspective about just how far away something like Ancient Rome was. That second part wasn¡¯t important to what he was doing right now, which was trying to break people out of cells. The point was, this place had a bizarre feel. Recognizably a prison, but like it was simplified to something almost meaninglessly easy. Just the circular halls, and alcoves with metal bars. There was no¡­ life here. This wasn¡¯t a place that was used and specialized, it was just a weird room that was being used, and it creeped him out, because it didn¡¯t feel like a dungeon. It felt human, but in a very dull way, with everything complicated shaved off. Including the attitudes of the prisoners, and any reaction from them at all really. ¡°Please step back?¡± James¡¯ voice was strained, mostly because he was down to twenty shield bracer charges. A pair of Status Quo agents had taken cover on the upper level, and were trading fire with JP, while James had triggered his invisibility earring and slipped off. Due to the inherent difficulties in actually killing this strain of agent, they¡¯d made the snap decision to accomplish the objective of getting everyone out, and go from there. The problem was, the people in the cells weren¡¯t exactly cooperative. Breaking in was comically easy; the place was like a weird half-dreamed version of a prison taken from the eighties, and the cells were just iron bars and thick locks. Thermite strips went right through the stuff, no problem. It was what came after that was giving him problems. The prisoners just stood, or sat on the cots, and stared straight ahead. Dull eyed, swaying slightly, they were all breathing and clearly alive, but there was nothing going on there. ¡°God dammit.¡± James hissed out as he ignited the thermite and hoped neither of the people in the cell touched it. Then he fucking ran, because the agents shooting at JP were unfortunately not stupid. Singleminded, certainly, to a near suicidal degree. But that wasn¡¯t really a problem for people who didn¡¯t die to gunfire, and it still left them smart enough to shoot at his invisible ass when he was cracking cells. An orange glowing line cut across his vision, and James followed Zhu¡¯s directions even before the informorph¡¯s yelled ¡°Roll, left!¡± He came to his feet with heavier gunfire now over his head, tracer rounds in the machine gun barrage highlighting the arrival of another enemy one level up. ¡°Step here!¡± Zhu ordered, and James did so, standing perfectly still and trusting his friend as a grenade went off nearby. The shockwave rattled his teeth, and James felt his insides ache. He also heard, and saw a few flashes of, shrapnel pinging off the concrete wall and floor around him. But nothing touched him. In that moment, James felt a bizarre mix of emotion. He was standing on a battlefield, with death on every side. And he was untouchable. Invincible. The machine gun fire stopped, and James looked up at the next ring of the prison as he resumed moving. Seeing the stone faced woman who was carrying the heavy weapon repositioning it toward JP, James acted on instinct, and grabbed her with [Move Person]. Moving someone who didn¡¯t want to be moved cut down on the blue orb¡¯s effective strength, and moving someone through something did so even more, but he really only needed her to go a foot to get through the iron railing and the metal plate she¡¯d taken cover behind, and into the open air in the center of the prison. The competence of the Status Quo agents continued to irk him as the woman kept a grip on her weapon, and didn¡¯t look bothered by the fifty foot fall as she plunged past. But she wasn¡¯t gunning down James¡¯ friend, so he¡¯d take it. ¡°This isn¡¯t working.¡± He sent rapidly across their local network. ¡°None of these people are moving, there¡¯s no way we can group them up. Especially not-¡° James cut off as a stray bullet triggered a shield around him and his location was revealed. He sprinted for the ramp upward before he could get pinned down, and refreshed his invisibility while he was at it. Alanna¡¯s reply came back rapidly and efficiently. ¡°Reinforcements are arriving to you now. Stop breaching cells, we¡¯ll grab people through the bars and telepad out. Prisoner rescue is our primary objective. No need to stick around after.¡± James nodded, then sent back a confirmation. But before he could talk, Alanna added one more worrying thought. ¡°Camille is expected to be headed your direction. Move fast.¡± ¡°Bet you an orb it¡¯s about the big door.¡± JP privately told James. ¡°No bet.¡± James replied. The big door, ten feet tall and twenty across, heavy steel with a complex locking mechanism, was exactly the sort of thing James assumed was going to be a problem. But he was pretty sure the agents they were skirmishing with weren¡¯t running out of durability, while the Order was. Crouching on the ramp, he raised his Walther and put cluster shots into the exposed arms and legs of the agents taking cover, but he knew it would only inconvenience them. The whole prison was a symphony of gunfire. The break in the shooting were almost instantly filled by someone trying to take advantage of the lull, and not being able to hurt each other hadn¡¯t actually stopped them from trying. Actually, the fact the enemy were taking cover at all made James think that they were vulnerable somehow. He passed that along to the others. He didn¡¯t know what to do with it. James wasn¡¯t actually sure what to do at all. He¡¯d been in a lot of fights in his recent life; more than he ever expected. But a lot of them were dungeon fights, which were abrupt, and required instant brutal action to survive. Though strangely, all of them seemed very survivable. Not many of his battles had been against humans, and those that were, well, they were also pretty one sided. This fight was going on for a while. And after the first twenty minutes of running and being alert for anyone shooting at him, James had started to feel winded. Not tired, but like he was slipping slightly. His brain didn¡¯t want to keep running at this pace, being afraid of everything around him, tracking a dozen variables in addition to communications with the others. He wasn¡¯t tired, exactly, but he was tiring. And he was the most experienced one here, which meant they probably needed to hit their target and get out quick. Alanna¡¯s decision to stop treating this as an actually decapitation strike and instead just accomplish their rescue and bail was a good one. If he¡¯d been more alert, he would have made the same call. James kept moving, hoping to loop around to the next ramp and flank the unsuspecting agents on the third level before they realized he was invisible and on them. But as he reached the second ring of the prison, something interrupted him. A door just at the top of the ramp; not a row of cell bars but instead something more like the guard station that he¡¯d come through with JP and the mimic duo. The door had a window with bullet resistant mesh set in it, and so it didn¡¯t surprise James too much when the figure on the other side checked through it, a gun raised to breach, and then shouldered the door open. His first thought as he made eye contact with the man was to ask him who his tailor was, and if the suit had magic powers. His second thought was to remember he was invisible, and to let the guy slip past unharried. The man was at the tail end of middle age, salt and pepper hair and a face with a few scars on it, but the way he was keeping to the walls and how his hard eyes flicked across the prison cells told James he wasn¡¯t with Status Quo. Not that the tidbit of information answered the question of what he was doing here. Or where he¡¯d come from; James didn¡¯t get why there was another entrance here one floor up, when Status Quo had clearly disguised the first one and put effort into it. He still shot a small text to everyone just in case, and processed three incoming texts about ongoing movements. One of those texts was from Smoke-And-Ember. The camraconda James had only met a couple times announcing his and Alex¡¯s arrival, along with a heads up to James. He glanced through the railing and down at where JP¡¯s shield bracers were still flaring as they took hits, even with him behind cover. The endless gunshots playing out an equally endless cacophony of sound in the enclosed concrete tube of a prison. Then abruptly, JP¡¯s shields weren¡¯t the only ones taking hits, as Alex slid into a crouched position next to him and raised something. Just in case JP¡¯s warning hadn¡¯t reached him, Alex decided to add a yell that was loud enough for James to hear it over the firefight. ¡°Friendly fire!¡± The girl¡¯s voice cracked as she went for a bellow and ended up with something more like a screech. She corrected for the faux pas with a trio of Nerf dart fireballs, the orbs of plasma screaming like nails on a chalkboard as they carved melted holes out of the concrete floors and walls, and sent droplets of molten iron raining splattering onto what was left. In their wake, a noise like a mild thundeclap signaled the air slamming back into the emptied space, and the screams of hit Status Quo agents were the first sign of an emotional reaction from their enemy. It would be wrong to call what followed ¡®silence¡¯, but the gunshots stopped from both sides. And then, a single digital voice rose up through the concrete cylinder. ¡°Cease shooting! We desire to communicate!¡± Smoke-And-Ember amplified his voice to be heard. ¡°Please do not-¡° Whatever he was going to keep saying was interrupted as running footsteps from the ring below where JP and James had come in announced new arrivals, and seconds later there were muffled whumps followed by metal impacts near the group below. Having apparently found shooting to be ineffective, the newly reinforcing Status Quo agents had opted for tear gas and flashbangs. James had made jokes before about how the shield bracers were effectively flash bangs on the enemy side whenever they got shot in the dark, but this? He was twenty feet up and on the other side of the space, and he still felt the concussive pop in his teeth. From the screams Ruby and Prince were making, they had it much worse. When he saw the two people jumping up and scrambling over the railings like gravity didn¡¯t apply to them, James took two actions. First, he rapidly sent a message to the knights down there that they were about to be flanked, along with his own feed of the growing cloud of caustic smoke in case they couldn¡¯t see, and second, he started shooting. He knew it would give his position away, but he did it anyway. ¡°Zhu, keep an eye out.¡± James ordered, and started putting down fire on the two who were closing on his friends. One of them was a man with a sharply gelled hairstyle, carrying a broad headed axe at his side like it was as casual as a briefcase, tie still perfectly placed against his dress shirt. The other one was a woman who was soaked in blood that James was pretty sure JP had stabbed three minutes ago. He shot both of them in the head, burning cluster shot charges and then using his bracelet¡¯s reload magic when he emptied his gun. The first barrage stopped them briefly, but then the two melee fighters leaned into his bullets, and ran through into the smoke, undeterred by James really actually trying to kill them. ¡°I am worried,¡± He hissed, mostly to himself, ¡°that we¡¯re going to get out of this and I¡¯m going to forget that bullets are actually dangerous.¡± A bullet pinged off the wall near James, and he sighed, ducking back down and refreshing his invisibility just in case. Being fireballed hadn¡¯t stopped the agents from shooting back. But down below, the tear gas was clearing, and while JP and Alex¡¯s video feeds had gotten tear stained and blackened, James could see through the skulljack that they were moving and fighting and not dead yet. ¡°What do I do?¡± He asked, starting to worry that he didn¡¯t have a way to tip this fight. ¡°Go open this door.¡± Zhu ordered him, orange lines and light setting him around the ring he was on to the other side, and a perfectly normal looking office door that was set between two cells. ¡°¡­why?¡± James asked. ¡°And why is that¡­ why are there so many ways in here?!¡± ¡°Think later. Go now. Someone needs to get in.¡± Zhu told him. ¡°And duck!¡± James ducked, tucking himself into a roll forward that he could only really accomplish because he was wearing a dress shirt and not armor, and saved a shield charge. Then he got up and started running. Zhu¡¯s path took him around the back on a Status Quo agent who was currently swapping the magazine of his pistol with a dull eyed mechanical motion, and James decided to try to cut that problem away early. Letting go of his mental grip on his own acceleration, he spent the majority of his Velocity to activate a spell he¡¯d already forgotten the name of. Turning the majority of his new momentum into bone durability, James tracked slightly off of Zhu¡¯s planned route, and lunged forward as he approached the woman. She didn¡¯t even register his presence until both his knees slammed into her, and James applied at least one skill rank in judo to maximize just how much it would hurt when he slammed her head into the railing. Uncertain if he¡¯d actually done any real damage, he dropped the Route Horizon spell as he rolled off of the woman¡¯s body, his face right in front of hers while tired looking green eyes stared blankly at the ceiling overhead through his invisible form. There was a thin line of blood on the side of her head, but James was pretty sure that it wasn¡¯t a potential concussion that had put a disinterested expression on her during a firefight. Kicking the gun over the edge as he landed in a crouch, he mule kicked backward and hit her again, stunning her long enough that he could focus on [Move Person] and flick her out into the open space on the other side of the railing, dropping her at least three or four floors. It was, he grimly noted, a lot easier when they weren¡¯t resisting. His head was still staring to pound though, and he wasn¡¯t sure he could do that more than one more time. Still, he didn¡¯t have to. The door Zhu was aiming him at was right in front of him. ¡°Who am I letting in?¡± He asked out loud as at least two agents a level overhead realized someone had just thrown their coworker off a ledge and started taking shots at the space behind James, clearly aware that there was an invisible combatant in the area. ¡°I have no idea!¡± Zhu answered as a bullet clipped the shield¡¯s range, and lit up their combined position like a firework. ¡°But it seems like it couldn¡¯t be worse than doing nothing!¡± The door was locked, and James had been informed recently by an irate Nate that shooting door locks didn¡¯t actually open them. But the truth was, shooting a locked door wouldn¡¯t open it unless you hit it correctly, and the reason Nate had been irate is that James had kept proving on their test field that he could do it consistently. His enhanced Aim didn¡¯t just let him hit what he wanted, at close range when he had a second to think, it let him make shots that were wild odds at best. He didn¡¯t really have a second to breathe here; another bullet found his shields, and he frantically did the mental math to figure out if he was under ten charges left at this point. He wasn¡¯t, but it was getting close. So James just didn¡¯t stop running, and started firing with a shaking, sweating grip at near the door¡¯s handle as he raced toward it. Then his shoulder connected with it, a flare of pressure echoing across his body in the area, though James noted there wasn¡¯t the bruising pain he expected. He thanked JP for the foresight of whatever magic shirt he was wearing right now. He also also more immediately sent a wave of gratitude at Zhu as the infomorph grabbed the handle ahead of them at a lightning speed, and had turned the latch as much as the destroyed mechanism would allow. James, invisible and hard to notice, burst into an office that was in the process of being ransacked by a group of men in biker leathers and armed with a mix of submachine guns and baseball bats. A sudden halt to the activity occurred as he looked around at the dozen or so people who were all staring right at him. Quietly, daintily, James stepped to the side and slid along the wall. ¡°If you say anything,¡± Zhu whispered in his ear, ¡°I will tell Alanna.¡± James almost broke right there and replied. Though Zhu¡¯s comment was fair; high on adrenaline and having trouble keeping his thoughts straight, he was about two seconds away from making a quip. Now that he was called out though, James was having a hard time thinking of what he would have even said. Maybe pretend to be a butler and give a classy ¡°Please, gentlemen, enter¡±? He¡¯d never get the chance. The group raced past him, one of them bumping against him and giving the seeming empty air a confused look before shaking it off and hurrying into the ongoing fight. James could hear them shouting, trying to figure out what was going on mostly, but also at least one of them said something about how ¡°this is what we¡¯re looking for¡± and ¡°this is where she said to meet her¡±. He sighed as he ended up in the clear, and took another step around an overturned desk, and was surprised when he saw out to the front of the office portion. Mostly he was surprised because through the broken down entrance door, he could see the wall signs outside that indicated that this was the first floor. ¡°We climbed two levels of prison just to end up back on the ground level.¡± He blinked. ¡°What the fuck.¡± ¡°Oh, like this is the worst thing you¡¯ve seen.¡± Zhu huffed at him. ¡°We have ten basements at home.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°No, but I didn¡¯t know the exact number. Have you caught your breath?¡± James checked. His heart was still racing, his attention hard to keep, but he was a little better. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said. ¡°Good. Then turn around. We need to get to the door.¡± Zhu said. ¡°I think it is going to open. I can feel it.¡± Setting a comforting hand on Zhu¡¯s manifestation, James grinned. ¡°You¡¯re so fucking cool. Alright. Let¡¯s move. We can meet up with Alanna and the others, they¡¯re going to be arriving real soon.¡± _____ A normal day for Arrush had gone from being an unknown, to an impossibility, to a fantasy, to¡­ a normal day. He woke up, with his boyfriend tangled around him and whatever blankets he had tried to accumulate scattered to the corners of their bed, and had to scramble to reach the dose of painkiller potion on their dresser before he started screaming and woke Keeka up. Arrush wasn¡¯t a stranger to hurting; he¡¯d done it all his life. But he¡¯d gotten used to being able to exist without the constant ongoing burning in his joints and flesh. A while back, Reed had tried to explain to him that the potion was actually sort of just a slightly different exercise potion that improved the recovery and development of nerve endings, ligaments, and tendons, instead of just musculature. Arrush hadn¡¯t fully understood half of what was being said, but it had been at a time when he was far more worried about asking questions, so he¡¯d nodded and decided to seek context later. He hadn¡¯t, really. But he remembered the point, which was that development of his nerves meant, for a ratroach, that he would become dependent on this potion rapidly. Either he kept taking it forever, or the pain would come back worse, unless a more permanent solution was found. Fortunately they had a permanent solution. And a perfect example of it was curled around Arrush¡¯s chest, Keeka¡¯s remade body looking so similar to how he used to, but¡­ better. Cleaner. Not caustic or tormented, still beautifully asymmetrical and still him. A messy patchwork of parts reforged into a complete body that didn¡¯t rebel against its owner. Arrush watched his partner sleep for a long time, a sideways grin on his muzzle, until he accidentally drooled on his pillow again and the acidic hiss prompted him into motion. One day, possibly one day soon, he¡¯d be next in line for the same treatment. And he wouldn¡¯t be able to make the excuse that others needed it more anymore. It was terrifying, and despite knowing that it could work and wouldn¡¯t ruin him, Arrush was holding back for some reason he didn¡¯t fully understand. Not exactly fear, not exactly guilt, but a feeling that tasted like both of them. He didn¡¯t let it bother him today. Today was a normal day. He left Keeka to sleep, leaving his boyfriend with a series of soft touches before slipping out of the bedroom. Keeka tended to stay up late, and while the Order didn¡¯t really operate on a standard schedule, Arrush liked being up early because he liked the sunrise. Shuffling around their apartment in the Lair¡¯s underground, he took his time getting dressed, reheating leftovers, eating breakfast, and pretending that he knew where to stack things to make their living room couch slightly less of a mess. He then spent a good ten minutes firmly brushing at the tan fur that covered over half his body, focusing especially on his arms, before dumping what he¡¯d shed into the garbage. And then he headed out. Heading out was also scary. But it wasn¡¯t too bad if you got up early enough. Humans, Arrush had found, didn¡¯t actually like something about five AM. And most camracondas were implicitly understanding of his constant anxiety around others, though it turned out they also didn¡¯t like being up early. The only person Arrush passed on the way out was Mars, the human engineer working on the expanding underground garden¡¯s irrigation system. The two of them made eye contact, and Mars offered a small nervous smile before going back to what he was doing, because he was also awake at five AM because he wanted to avoid everyone else. He¡¯d just come here the long way. The stairs up to the ground level of the Lair were cold and echoing and Arrush enjoyed the solidity of them. They were clearly designed for utility, and were a rough part of the building with more sharp edges and cool metal than most of it, but they weren''t hostile about it. The stairs did their job, and he felt like he could appreciate that they did it without being painful. There were more people upstairs, the part of the Lair that never really slept was the communal space of the lobby and the dining room that always had at least one person eating something between a response shift or snacking while they glared at a magic item until it did what they wanted. Some people glanced up at Arrush, but aside from one wave, no one really talked to him. He was just another ratroach going about his business. And wasn¡¯t that a wonder all its own. There were about twenty ratroaches in the building right now, though most of them stayed in the space sectioned off for them while they got healing both physical and mental. But they were here, and more of them were here with every delve of the Akashic Sewer. Arrush found several of his claws clenching at the thought of where he¡¯d come from, sharp spikes biting into chitin and flesh as the almost overwhelming hate for his creator caught up to him. He followed his own therapist¡¯s advice, practicing mindfulness, acknowledging that his own hurt was neither unusual, nor acceptable. It didn¡¯t make the anger fade, but it made it easier to handle. He was a victim, but he would not let that define him. He was still on edge when he reached the kitchen, but Arrush felt like he had it under control. He had to duck slightly to get through the second door into the dishwasher area of the place where half the Order¡¯s food was prepared, just so his antenna didn¡¯t smack against the lower than normal frame. But as the door shut behind him and he was left mostly alone in the space, he started to relax. Knife-In-Fangs was already present around the other side of the dividing wall, six mechanical arms moving in strikingly organic patterns as the camraconda methodically took apart melons into cubes. He was holding the fruit still with his eye as he cut over and over, a display that would have been perfectly at home in the horror movies that Nik always picked during movie nights. Only with cantaloupes. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Arrush greeted the camraconda as he slipped his triangular head through an apron and tied it around himself, the extra arms he had that faced in uncomfortable and awkward directions actually highly useful for this one task. And then he got to work, falling into a pattern of scrubbing down the pots and pans from last night. Soak, scrub, sanitize, rinse, stack. A repeated set of motions that took enough of his focus that he couldn¡¯t actually do it and be properly angry at the same time. And, more importantly, it was useful. He¡¯d been told more than once by members of the Order of Endless Rooms that being useful wasn¡¯t a requirement to stay here. That no one would think less of him for just ¡®taking it easy¡¯ for a while. It had taken him months to even be able to properly articulate to anyone the fact that he didn¡¯t know how to even start on the process of taking it easy. It wasn¡¯t that Arrush wanted to work, it was that, initially, he really was terrified that if he wasn¡¯t valuable enough, he¡¯d be thrown away. Him and Keeka. Himself, he could tolerate, but Keeka simply wasn¡¯t acceptable. So he¡¯d kept pushing until he was given small things to do out of what he now recognized as a sense of exasperated defeat. Now, though, he just wanted to be useful because if everyone here was a little useful, then everything was nicer. James had explained the concept to him, of everyone pulling together to make things better, and when Arrush had found his suspicion slowly fading and his willingness to believe taking its place, he¡¯d decided that he agreed. Not because he was told to, not to avoid being hurt, just because he liked a lot of people here and wanted to take some of the work. So he cleaned dishes. Carefully, working with long gloves to keep from filling the sinks with his own coarse fur, and a mask to avoid accidentally dripping his glowing saliva into the sanitizer water. Though it turned out the sanitizer liquid was actually shockingly good at neutralizing the corrosive nature of his bodily fluids, even if Deb told him that he should under no circumstances ever drink it. She had also sworn a lot while saying that. Arrush remembered it because James had said something - probably a joke - about how medical professionals weren¡¯t supposed to know that much profanity. The memory made him smile, but he kept it as a thin line and tried to not open his maw. A lot of his memories of moments with James made him smile, in a way that was becoming familiar to him. His life with Keeka often elicited the same response, though more powerfully. By the time he was done with his simple task, a couple other people had shown up to start preparing breakfast for the hundred and fifty people who were going to want it. Arrush moved with the kind of alacrity that he¡¯d been working on, of being fast without panicking, to tackle some small side goals in the kitchen. Scrubbing down one of the walls, fetching Knife-In-Fangs a worrying number of onions, replacing the cleaning buckets strategically located around the kitchen, and starting the coffee brewing. And then there were more pans. And also more noise. Voices and clatterings and the hiss of food on the flat top, almost enough to overwhelm him. At one point Knife-In-Fangs had said something shocked and rapidly left the kitchen. But Arrush was determined to be useful, so he focused on breathing, and cleaning things, even if he was secretly relieved at around seven AM when a couple of the younger humans came to replace him for the rest of the morning. Afterward, he sat in the small fenced off spot behind the Lair on a rough wooden bench, eating an egg and veggie burrito and trying to keep himself from crying at the flavor of food that didn¡¯t hurt and wasn¡¯t blood. Usually he was better about it, but the memories of his life weren¡¯t always so easily ignored. Just over the fence and up a barkdusted hill, the sounds of engines and tires filled the air. The public road was, one of the chefs had told him once, a weirdly normal reminder of the mundane world that existed all around them. To Arrush, it was as magical as everything else, though. He¡¯d been in cars, knew what cars were, he could even drive in an emergency. But the idea of hundreds, thousands of people, driving back and forth, to and from work, shopping, appointments, family, every day? It didn¡¯t make sense to him. It was too much, too big, too¡­ too alien. So he didn¡¯t think of them as cars. He just let the noise be a background part of his own normal day. Passing roars of distant beasts that reminded him that the world was large, but his place here was familiar. When he¡¯d gone back inside, anxious about having to pass by a large group of people still lingering after breakfast, Arrush was pleased to find that the dining room was emptier than normal. It looked like a lot of people had left in a hurry, though. It hadn¡¯t taken long for a new kind of creeping anxiety to crop up in him, when he learned why. And, eventually, when no one called on him, he went to find out what was going on himself. Finding the briefing warehouse mostly empty was also odd, with only a few humans and one camraconda lingering. And Ben and Planner, who were likely to have answers for him. ¡°Hey Arrush. Sorry, kinda busy.¡± Ben said, eyes flicking rapidly across a glowing series of both ethereal projections and computer screens. ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Arrush asked, enjoying his lungs and voice being in a healthy period at the moment. Ben glanced up at him, the friend gnawing at his lip. ¡°Trying to get a bunch of prisoners out of a Status Quo facility. I don¡¯t know if you know¡­¡± ¡°I was told.¡± Arrush cut him off. Maybe a little too fast. ¡°Why¡­ why am I not¡­?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, or have a good reason. We threw this together in a hurry.¡± Ben answered instantly. Planner¡¯s scratchy voice joined in through the open air. ¡°We selected for those with small unit training.¡± They said bluntly. ¡°You are an exceptional delver. I chose to exclude you as a combatant here.¡± Arrush felt his face flush, a radioactive green tint creeping in to the exposed skin around his eyes and muzzle. Though he said nothing. It wasn¡¯t as if he had a good counter argument to that. All the same¡­ ¡°James is there.¡± He said in an anxious rasp. ¡°Yeah.¡± Ben answered. ¡°A lot of knights are.¡± He glanced at one of the screens, then back up. ¡°You want to help?¡± He asked abruptly. ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush answered without hesitation, nodding sharply enough that a drop of drool splashed to the floor and started smoking as it marred the smooth concrete. Ben didn¡¯t even glance at it. ¡°Ethan!¡± He called. ¡°Get to the armory and get Arrush¡¯s armor!¡± On the other side of the warehouse, the young man groaned as he rolled to his feet and worked himself from a plod to a jog as he left the warehouse. Then, in a softer voice, Ben continued. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna just throw you in.¡± He said. ¡°And Nate and or JP will be pissed about this. But I¡¯ve got a bad feeling about something I can¡¯t pin down. So if I absolutely need you¡­ and it¡¯ll probably be dangerous¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Arrush said, towering over the pale nonhuman man, his arms folding against his body. ¡°I want to help.¡± Ben sighed. ¡°Yeah. Me too.¡± He said. ¡°Hopefully, though? We won¡¯t have to.¡± He nodded toward the chair next to him. ¡°Settle in. If you¡¯ve got a religion, try praying for things to go smoothly.¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think I do?¡± Arrush didn¡¯t know what to think of that sentence, but he still sat. And waited, and watched, and worried. His normal day had lasted almost four hours this time. That was almost a record. _____ Alanna watched through through Nate¡¯s eyes, as the man sighted on a Status Quo agent that was currently peeking around a hallway corner in the building he had a great angle on. The skulljack hardware they were using filtered pretty much all emotion out of things, but Alanna had a kind of preconceived notion of Nate, and so her imagination filled in the steady breath, the tightened grip, the small things about shooting at another human with the intent to kill. Maybe she was imagining it. She didn¡¯t shoot to kill that often at humans. Once, honestly, and it had been awful. It was also why she¡¯d quietly stopped drawing her sidearm in dungeons when they were fighting anything that seemed even remotely intelligent; hunting something that was at most basically an animal, and at worst just a hollow puppet for a larger dungeon intellect? That was one thing. Killing someone, even if they were being controlled, or emotionally compromised, or actively trying to kill her, it felt wrong. There was a line, obviously, and no one in the Order was likely to give a Status Quo sect the benefit of the doubt on this. Some people weren¡¯t going to change. But they could, because they were people, and that loss was a tragedy. Alanna didn¡¯t so much think all of this as she did just feel it, a thrum of regret in her heart dulled down by the toughening potion. And then Nate¡¯s view jerked a fraction of an inch as he pulled the trigger twice in measured succession. Six hundred feet away, a plate glass window cracked in two places, a chunk of it breaking away as it fell to the ground below, spiderweb lines racing through the rest of the glass. On the other side, someone Status Quo affiliated was slammed against the wall they were taking cover behind as one of Nate¡¯s bullets took them in the shoulder. The grim looking machine pistol they were holding skidding away from them as they reeled back, blood dripping from their nose, and tried to dive for cover under a desk. Nate took two more shots, but didn¡¯t connect with either of them. ¡°One hit. They¡¯re bleeding.¡± He sent, the text nature of their links making it seem like emotionless efficiency. ¡°Nosebleeds don¡¯t count.¡± Alanna replied. ¡°Light penetration on the hit, keep your eyes open.¡± The response was still stripped of tone, but Alanna could read the sarcasm in it with a hint of a smile. That wasn¡¯t good news, though. If even bullets from Nate¡¯s absurdly out of place M24 weren¡¯t doing more than causing bee stings, it was going to be nearly impossible to actually kill any of these people. ¡°Keep shooting at anyone who moves.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Cover our rogues, I¡¯m going to link up with James.¡± ¡°Good luck.¡± The words were simple, but Alanna took them to heart. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s move. Nate¡¯s covering our approach, and I¡¯ve got a date to catch.¡± Myles and Yin gave her different levels of anxious nods, as Alanna led them in a rapid sprint across the garden sidewalks that connected the parking structure to the office buildings. There were still civilians out here, covering behind bushes or trees or white concrete rectangles that someone probably thought made for nice benches. Not many people, but a few, and their trio came across a woman in tear-streaked makeup and a torn blouse when they crouched behind one of those concrete lines. No one was shooting at them, so Alanna took the time to give the woman a reassuring smile. ¡°Hey.¡± She started. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, everything¡¯s going to be okay. Stay down, and let us handle things. Are you hurt?¡± ¡°My¡­ my leg¡­¡± The woman stared up at Alanna, the fear in her eyes mixing with confusion at seeing her in out of place combat armor and a handful of magic items that didn¡¯t really fit the aesthetic. ¡°I can¡¯t feel it.¡± Alanna pinged Frequency-Of-Sunlight with their location and a view of the surroundings. ¡°Okay. A friend of mine is on the way to get you out of here. She looks a little weird, don¡¯t freak out on me, okay?¡± The woman gave Alanna an incredulous look. ¡°Someone is shooting up my dental clinic and you think the last straw will be someone who looks weird?¡± Her voice steadied as she reacted to the insane comment. Alanna grinned at her. ¡°Good. There you go. Now stay down, we¡¯ve got to move.¡± She peeked over the edge, and double checked with anyone who was watching this side of the building, but saw no one inside who might be about to shoot them. They seemed occupied for some reason. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± She silently signaled, and the hopped the barrier, Myles and Yin hot behind her. The group rushed the rest of the way across, the mild overcast day providing odd contrast to the chunks of garden that had been cratered by grenade blasts or the smell of burning rubber and gasoline from the infernos that had been cars just a block away. Reaching the base of the building, underneath one of the shattered windows, Alanna [Move Person]ed herself in first, slipping into the second floor with her gun up and her infant authority swirling around her wrist. No one greeted her. The place had emptied in a real hurry. Myles and Yin joined her shortly after, Myles looking a little worse for wear as he used the short range spell, a tiny line of blood dripping from the corner of an eye. ¡°Okay.¡± Alanna stated. ¡°Get to work. Bail if you hit trouble. Momo will be joining you soon to help.¡± ¡°Yes¡¯m.¡± Myles swept his eyes around the office, one hand already starting to pull a series of USB sticks out of a pouch. ¡°Yin, look for anything weird, I¡¯ll start stripping computers.¡± His companion gave him a mock salute and started checking every closed door in the place. Alanna left them to it, and moved into the building. She processed small details as she walked, keeping her pace steady. No point getting ambushed now when she was alone, before she even joined the fight she was headed toward. Part of her attention was split coordinating other teams moving through the building, all of them finding a similar lack of resistance, which seemed to point to Status Quo having fallen back to their prison complex to make a stand. Which was a terrible idea, really; the place wasn¡¯t defensible. The rest of her focus on the space around her painted a weird picture. In movies, when an office building was attacked, there was a narrative language to it. Papers fluttering everywhere, chairs overturned, flashing lights from the fire alarms, maybe a few computers sparking with shattered screens. This place was so utterly normal that it hurt. The hallways Alanna was stalking down had intact frosted glass panes next to partly open doors into different businesses, real or shells for Status Quo. There wasn¡¯t a spilled potted plant or overturned bench in sight. The worst she saw was some bullet holes in a wall and a splash of blood on the ground, and the smell of ozone as she approached where Alex had been putting down fireball cover earlier. She linked up with a few other Order knights outside the breach into the prison. ¡°Where¡¯s Simon?¡± Was the first thing she asked Matt and Knife-In-Fangs as she joined them outside the door. ¡°Injured, out.¡± Matt shrugged. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine, probably.¡± Alanna knew the lack of concern was probably due to the hardening potion, just like she knew she would normally be irate at the dismissal of a knight¡¯s injury. But Simon wasn¡¯t dead, so it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°We going in?¡± ¡°Coordinating. Wait.¡± Alanna flicked her eyes up, the gesture hard to shake even though she didn¡¯t need to, and sorted through the skulljack feeds. ¡°All teams, move in in fifteen. Stay close, overlap shields, the enemy have machine guns. Do not fire on the non-squo combatants. Spread out to the prisoners and prepare to telepad out. Confirm.¡± A series of confirmations from other groups came back to her, minus a few other people who were out of the fight from injuries. Alanna didn¡¯t have time to check severity. Instead, she pulled a small flask from her belt and took a long drink of reflex coffee, counted down the last few seconds, and then nodded to the others, kicking open the door and dashing through the security checkpoint, into a concrete and iron cylinder of cells and gunfire. Someone plummeted down the central shaft as soon as Alanna walked in, silently flailing as they fell through the open air and out of sight. Bullets almost instantly started pecking at her shield bracers, and while Alanna was wearing four of the things and had over a hundred charges ready to go, she didn¡¯t want to deplete them if she didn¡¯t have to. So she burst forward, getting out of the line of fire from the agents on higher levels to press herself against a flat metal wall between to segments of railing. ¡°Huh. That really is a big fucking door.¡± She commented, looking across at the massive metal vault door that dominated the other side of this level. To her right, JP and a handful of others who she half recognized were actively dueling with a pair of people that crackled with lightning and swung fucking war axes around. Alanna didn¡¯t waste time, and dropped her rifle to its sling, letting Matt and Knife-In-Fangs take her place as they worked to countersuppress the agents upstairs. Then she lifted the sledgehammer off her back, and started a silent run forward. The Status Quo shock troopers - Alanna was proud of that one - were technically flanked, but one of the people she didn¡¯t recognize was on the ground and clutching her chest, the other one looked like he could barely see, and while her camraconda partner had locked down one of the troopers, the other one was pressing Alex and JP hard enough that Smoke-And-Ember was going to be exposed and out of position soon. So Alanna arrowed straight for that guy. Just in time for him to trip JP with the blade of his axe, a spurt of blood painting the concrete, and then turn to brutally chop sideways at Smoke-And-Ember. Alanna was still three steps away, but Alex was right there. The air snapped into a harsh chill, and Alex¡¯s breath came in gasps, but for a brief moment, nothing could kill her, and the axe stopped on the tips of her outstretched fingers just before it took Smoke-And-Ember in the neck. The fighter pulled back like he¡¯d expected it, and kicked JP as Alanna¡¯s friend tried to stand, sending him sprawling past and toward Alanna herself. She ducked past him, the two of them using their skulljacks on instinct to coordinate and not stumble into each other, and whipped a sledgehammer that weighed nothing toward the shock trooper¡¯s center mass. So far, the Status Quo fighters had proven capable of shrugging off bullets, walking off being knifed in the throat, and barely being dazed by repeat kicks to the head. Which made it somewhat of a surprise to Alanna when she felt ribs snap and fleshy bits pulp, a sensation that was not at all pleasant, before her hammer strike was arrested by some outside force and the shock trooper sprawled sideways, tumbling wildly halfway through the iron railing that surrounded the ring of walkway. It wasn¡¯t an easy hit; some of that lightning danced back up the impact site, lighting up Alanna¡¯s pain receptors like she¡¯d just dunked her hands in acid. But it was gone fast enough that she got away with just mildly panting and not screaming. ¡°Nice timing.¡± Alex sighed in relief upon seeing Alanna, her shoulders sagging. Alanna just nodded, looking at the other frozen soldier, trying to decide what to do with her. It would be so easy to just execute the woman. But that wasn¡¯t how the Order worked. Wasn¡¯t how Alanna worked. ¡°Drop your weapon, get on the ground, and don¡¯t move.¡± She ordered the frozen figure. ¡°Ember, give her three seconds.¡± The camraconda nodded, and blinked. The woman in the bloodied suit jerked forward, and then stopped, stared down by someone who didn¡¯t look even remotely interested in having a polite duel. It took her slightly longer than three seconds to drop her axe, the metal weapon clattering to the concrete just barely audible over the gunfire around them. But she did drop it, and Alanna gave her a slight respectful nod. Then, from overhead, there was a crash like demolition work was going on. Shouts and screams and profanity, far different in tone than the way Status Quo had been fighting back without real emotion, reached Alanna¡¯s ears. The gunshots took on a different beat; rapid fire, different from the measured crack of shots so far, more like a rattle of bullets, and not quite the heavy thrum of a heavier machine gun. A ping caught Alanna¡¯s attention; James, slipping around the outside, headed their way. He said Zhu was talking about the big door. Which was ominous. ¡°Begone.¡± The word was spoken with a commanding, imperious tone, and despite being spoken normally, it was audible over everything else, coming from three rings up. Peering up over the edge, Alanna saw a chunk of the railing, four bodies, and a handful of objects that were probably guns or maybe shoes, get blasted out from a central point. Two of them landed on upper levels, one person just dropped straight down, while another, windmilling his arms, crashed into the railing only a meter away from where she was covering JP while he checked on the wounded woman he¡¯d brought along. Alanna didn¡¯t think of herself as old. But she did think of the guy who had impacted hard on the edge, and was scrambling to keep from falling, as a kid. Her brain flicked through details - young black man, hair in cornrows, casual clothes - and took only a couple seconds to realize this was one of the outside combatants James had let into the prison half on accident. She didn¡¯t know if they were allies, or enemies, but he was a kid. She¡¯d be shocked if he was of legal drinking age. So Alanna dropped her weapon next to JP, lunged over, and grabbed at one of his arms, just before he slipped down. Her augmented upper body strength letting her hoist him up, her hands scrambling between the iron bars as she moved him over the railing like he was a rag doll. And he may as well have been, groaning in pain and coughing wetly and slumping on the concrete floor as she set him on safe ground. Alanna glared upward at the spot three layers up, where a woman in plate armor stepped up to the breach she had created. The fire the Order teams had been taking when they¡¯d started trying to take control of the ramps abruptly abated, shield bracers going dark as every Status Quo weapon locked onto Camille, and started hammering her. And she ignored it, making a two fingered gesture like she was summoning a drink by the pool instead of worrying about something as petty as being shot. Her sister, a perfect copy of her in every way, stepped up next to her. Then she spoke in a voice that Alanna could hear perfectly well, at the same time that James flicked off his invisibility and slid down the ramp a few meters away, Zhu helping to shove him along as he inched down under the cover of the bars. ¡°An opportunity, a problem, and a threat, sister.¡± Camille spoke with the utter assurance of someone who knew they were untouchable. ¡°It was your fortune sense that brought us here. Which is which?¡± Alanna felt like she couldn¡¯t tear her eyes away, but a small nudge from James got her attention. ¡°Look.¡± He said, eyes locked on the second sister. ¡°Holding back.¡± He whispered. Alanna narrowed her eyes, and made the connection James had. The first Camille was bulletproof beyond all reason. The second one was keeping back from the ledge, and had a plated arm up to cover half her face. But all the same, she looked around the prison complex with a rapid eye. Camille¡¯s eyes locked onto Alanna, and she froze before she realized she wasn¡¯t the one making eye contact with the woman. It was James, sitting next to her, that Camille had just seen. And Alanna got the sudden impression that the answer to that question, of problem, opportunity, and threat, was actually one thing, and it was a thing she was dating. ¡°You need to get out of here.¡± Alanna sent over the link. ¡°She made you.¡± ¡°Yeah, I see.¡± James sent back. ¡°Give it a second.¡± Alanna¡¯s heart pounded against the confines of her dulled emotions, until what felt like an eternity later that Camille kept sweeping her gaze around the space. The second sister¡¯s voice didn¡¯t cut over the gunfire that was still raining down on their position, but she did certainly say something. Something that made the first one look toward the heavy vault door on their level and nod. ¡°James, you can¡¯t fucking fight her.¡± Alanna ordered, sensing her partner tensing up. And then she made it a broad command to every knight present. ¡°Do not engage Camille!¡± She sent rapidly. ¡°Telepad out the instant she closes on you!¡± She barely had time to get it out before the tankier Camille took a running start and flung herself out over the edge, dropping like an armor plated rock toward a spot alarmingly close to their position. In the side of her mind, Alanna spotted two innocent little texts from knights who had run dry on shield bracer charges, and one who had taken a shot. Not lethal, but that was a yet, and those messages were going to pile up. ¡°No, calling it. Everyone out. Grab a set of prisoners, telepad, now.¡± Out loud, she said the same to everyone around her. ¡°JP, get your new friends. Alex, Ember, on me. Sorry James, we¡¯re not gonna see that door.¡± ¡°Our¡­ our friends!¡± The woman on the ground, bleeding from her coat and chest, screamed as JP pushed her back down. ¡°We might get them. If we don¡¯t, we can come back, but only if we¡¯re alive.¡± JP snapped, pulling a charm bracelet off his wrist and pressing it into hers. ¡°Pop these, don¡¯t ask me questions.¡± The last word came out as almost a screech as he flattened himself down against the metal wall around the central shaft, gunfire slapping into the other side like fireworks. ¡°I can¡¯t leave.¡± James told Alanna suddenly. ¡°Fuck you, yes you can.¡± She said, then followed his line of sight back upward to where the other Camille was looking their direction. ¡°James¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s her.¡± James stated confidently. ¡°That¡¯s our Cam. You know it.¡± Even as he spoke, the other Camille was busy twisting the long bladed mace she was carrying to flatten the agents near the vault door. She did know it. Her Empathy still worked, even if her emotions were dull right now, and she knew damn well that the person up there was looking at James like he was her last fucking hope in the world. Alanna hissed in a breath, and was about to say something, when a flickering red light snaked out from somewhere on the second floor. ¡°Fuck, down!¡± She snapped, pulling James back behind cover as the Status Quo artillery magic twisted into a straight line pointed at the Camille who was examining the vault door. There were maybe five downed agents at her feet, all of them seemed alive though crippled and out of the fight. But no one had ever accused Status Quo of caring about human life, and as the area lit up in a conflagration of light and heat, it washed over the downed agents just as much as Camille. The armored woman stepped out of the fireball, exposed skin of her face smoldering away in what looked like an incredibly painful burn, one arm half missing. The other arm, though, flung her mace upward, and there was the sound of concrete being split in half. Whether she hit her target, Alanna couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°You needed Sarah and a choir to fight someone who couldn¡¯t do that.¡± Alanna hissed at him, checking as knights got out with prisoners in tow one by one. She popped up with her rifle, signaling Alex and Matt to move too as she covered them with suppressive fire on the only agent that seemed to still be shooting their way. It didn¡¯t do much, but the man on the other end of her scope at least ducked back down. ¡°Zhu, get him out of here.¡± ¡°No!¡± Zhu exclaimed. ¡°We need to wait for the door!¡± ¡°The door is the size of a fucking oil tanker and isn¡¯t moving!¡± Alanna snapped back, nodding at Smoke-And-Ember in acknowledgement just before he vanished along with the two new people. ¡°Matt¡¯s out. Alex is out. JP, you¡¯re up. Think you can make that ramp and hit the next cell with people?¡± ¡°Fuck. Fuck me.¡± JP was shaking, and wiped a blood covered hand across his forehead without really thinking about it. ¡°Yeah. I can¡­ yeah.¡± Alanna passed him the rest of her coffee. ¡°If I die, I¡¯ll fucking haunt you!¡± He snapped, and started running. No one shot back at him, but he still ran like he was about to die. Alanna turned back to James. ¡°Let¡¯s go. We can hit the next row, and¡­¡± James and Zhu caught her arm in unison, two limbs both grabbing her as the duo peeked through the railing at a small angle to where Camille had stepped up to the massive metal door. All Alanna could smell was cordite, and her ears were ringing even with the fancy noise canceling headset, and even though the sounds of combat were fading, the sounds of the wounded and dying were filling the air in a twisted collective whine. But she still noticed the detail of the hiss of the door cracking open, the tiny wisp of vapor from the other side sliding through as mist, the way Camille looked a little confused as to why the door was opening. Small details. Her boyfriend and his glowing orange second coat were staring at it like they were waiting to see what was going to happen, like they needed to know. Alanna knew that look. She also decided, right then, to trust them. ¡°JP¡¯s out.¡± She sent. ¡°Outside teams pulling back. Only a few knights left in here.¡± She told him. And then Alanna made a choice. ¡°You take the door, I¡¯ll grab Cam. Don¡¯t you fucking do anything stupid.¡± Alanna ordered. James turned and caught her lips in a kiss. ¡°I never do anything stupid on purpose.¡± He said. ¡°That¡¯s not even close to what she said.¡± Alanna heard Zhu say, the navigator¡¯s manifested eye spinning in a loop on James¡¯ shoulder. She didn¡¯t laugh. She didn¡¯t have time. She needed to get upstairs, fast. ¡°Here.¡± She handed James the sledgehammer. ¡°Seriously, please don¡¯t fight her until I¡¯m back.¡± ¡°Be careful.¡± James told her in loving reply. And then a simple ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± And they set off to accomplish one last pair of objectives. Chapter 245 ¡°Throw yourself into the unknown // With pace and a fury defiant // Clothe yourself in beauty untold // And see life as a means to a triumph¡± -Gang Of Youths, Achilles Come Down- _____ James and Zhu crept forward as the massive door screeched open. Metal pistons squealing and hydraulic hissing as the door peeled itself apart and exposed a sliver of a space on the other side that looked like an elevator shaft that had never heard of OSHA. He kept low and behind the sheet metal parts of the outer railing, more concerned about being spotted from any shooters overhead or across the gap in the floor. His shield bracers were running dry, and getting shot now would be embarrassing. Standing in front of the door, someone who looked like a copy of Camille stood missing half her right arm, plate armor covered in black scorches, glaring at the slow moving door like it had offended her. James had no intention of tangling with her, but the surviving agents and gangsters might have a different plan, and he saw clusters of both assembling both one level below and above. The ones above were going to be a problem, because on the ramp just on the other side of the impressively heavy door, James spotted someone familiar moving. Actually, Zhu did the spotting, but James was the one who processed that he was looking at Daniel and Pathfinder doing a similar attempt at stealth to himself, and mouthed out a ¡°What the fuck?¡± To the other knight. Then he remembered that he had a skulljack in, and asked it more directly. The new skulljack braids had their own relays, so even with everyone else gone, there was still a connection James could poke at. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Daniel sent back. ¡°Path just said it was important!¡± ¡°It is important.¡± Zhu passed on to James, orange light feathers bristling against James¡¯ vaguely magical shirt. ¡°We have to be here.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± James whispered out loud as the part of his brain that was a little paranoid started to needle him. Then, suddenly, there was a splash of motion and color next to the him and his navigator partner of them. James felt his heart jump in his throat as Zhu let out a frantic burst of sound that James hoped was inaudible to anyone but himself. Despite the shock, though, he wasn¡¯t scared for longer than the few seconds it took his brain to realize a camraconda had just landed next to him. James wasn¡¯t the best at recognizing people, even humans, but he really tried with the camracondas. So the green and blue cable pattern visible where there wasn¡¯t armor told him who was skulking with him right away. ¡°TQ what the fuck are you doing here?¡± TQ flinched, twitching his bulky camera head sideways slightly to take in James. As he moved, a glowing orange light recreation of a pair of camera lenses were revealed on the side of TQ¡¯s tightly packed cable head, along with a few small ethereal pieces of fluttering folded paper. ¡°I was told it was important.¡± The camraconda sent silently. The backpack he was wearing was bound tightly to him and had two manipulators on one side, balancing out the heavy mounting point for a rifle on the other. He looked dangerous, which James was glad to have next to him in the moment. ¡°Thought you had an authority, not a navigator.¡± James¡¯ paranoia turned up a notch. TQ flinched as a burst of gunfire kicked up somewhere else nearby. ¡°It was not working out. This is not important. Why are we here?¡± ¡°Good question. Zhu?¡± James asked out loud as the door¡¯s gap widened, the sound of heavy machinery making good cover for a soft conversation. ¡°Why are we here? Why are we not running away with all the prisoners we can carry?¡± ¡°Something important is here.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice crunched like tires on a gravel road. ¡°We have to meet it.¡± James narrowed his eyes. ¡°That¡­ is not how navigators work, buddy.¡± He switched his gun to his off hand so he could reach up and lay his fingers against Zhu¡¯s manifested form. ¡°Are you doing okay?¡± ¡°I agree. This is not normal.¡± TQ spoke out loud with his synthesized voice. ¡°We should leave. Now.¡± His own navigator flared with hotter light at the words. ¡°That thing could kill us all.¡± James shot a look up at Daniel¡¯s spot halfway up one of the ramps to the next ring. The man had come a long way from being someone who had lost his nerve at exactly the wrong moment in a life or death situation, but he was not someone who would walk into a situation like this. James was, but James was self admittedly kind of dumb. He wasn¡¯t sure about TQ, but he assumed the camraconda was smarter. ¡°We should hang out more.¡± James had a sudden thought when he realized he didn¡¯t know that much about his camraconda friend. ¡°Wanna go get ice cream or something?¡± ¡°Now?¡± TQ asked. ¡°Because I would like to leave now.¡± ¡°Guys?¡± Daniel¡¯s message through the skulljack brought James¡¯ eyes back up from where he was staring at the door. He was still crouched in the shadow of the ramp, but there was a man, the older guy with his nice suit, standing directly behind him with a gun an inch from his head. ¡°Help?¡± ¡°Shit.¡± James started to raise his own pistol. ¡°Switch your bracers, I can hit him if TQ stops him.¡± But he saw Daniel¡¯s mouth moving, and a second later the other man lowered his weapon and dropped to a crouch. ¡°Or diplomacy works sure.¡± He let out a breath. ¡°Door¡¯s almost open, not-Cam is still just standing there, Zhu I¡¯m calling it, we need to go.¡± ¡°No!¡± The navigator shrieked. ¡°No, we have to be here!¡± And abruptly, James realized that he was right. Absolutely right, with the kind of utter conviction that you only got from religious fanatics and soccer fans. ¡°This is the right spot!¡± Next to them, TQ saw the look on James¡¯ face. ¡°Oh no.¡± The camraconda¡¯s synthetic voice carried the weight of sudden pained despair. Rapidly, before his own young navigator could put the same feeling in him, he sent a wide broadcast. ¡°Is anyone still in the AO? We require help.¡± Alanna replied instantly. ¡°I¡¯m here. Got Cam.¡± ¡°We¡¯re fine.¡± James and Daniel sent. ¡°Just gotta check the door. Get her out of here.¡± TQ tried to override that. ¡°No! Alanna, we need-!¡± ¡°I¡¯m hit.¡± Alanna¡¯s dispassionate text was all they got as the sound of escalating violence above them competed with the door¡¯s machinery for dominance. ¡°Pulling back. Sending help.¡± Then she was gone. ¡°This is not good.¡± TQ spoke out loud as he felt his feelings about being here begin to become conflicted. James nodded. ¡°I agree. Do you think you can lockdown that Camille? We might have to go through her.¡± TQ flattened his body to the concrete as someone took a shot their direction. ¡°That is not what I meant!¡± He turned the volume on his voice up in irritation. Being in danger wasn¡¯t new to him, he¡¯d spent most of his life a tiny slither away from something worse than death. But it was frustrating to be back there again. Motion caught his eye, and he shot a message at the same time James did the same thing. ¡°Daniel, behind you.¡± Opposite them, Daniel tried to react, but there were at least ten people running their direction. None of them dressed like Status Quo agents, though; the people James had let in who were mostly wearing casual street clothes that contrasted with the body submachine guns they were carrying quickly had Daniel and his new friend surrounded. But they didn¡¯t start shooting, instead just forcing the two up, grabbing their guns, and shoving them forward as they kept moving for the door. ¡°This is where we gotta be!¡± One of them, a skinny guy who looked like James¡¯ high school chemistry teacher if he was wearing a bandanna yelled out. ¡°Who the fuck is this bitch?¡± His gun, held unprofessionally, tracked across the injured sister¡¯s armored back. He got too close, and she backhanded him with her good arm. James winced as he heard something break and the man went flying to slam into the railing, and then Daniel was grabbing the older dude and rolling out of the way as the yelling intensified. But, somehow, no one started shooting. The men just backed away, forming a semi-circle around her. They did keep their guns up. Though one of them waved a hand down, and his friends shut up. ¡°Sorry about that ma¡¯am.¡± He spoke respectfully. ¡°But we need to be here.¡± James focused on him, and saw a nasty gash on his forehead that was dripping blood down his face and onto the white shirt he was wearing. The coat was probably a casualty too. He didn¡¯t look like he actually wanted to be here. The armored woman tilted her head, her own blood pooling on the floor at her feet not seeming to be a problem for her. ¡°What is the purpose of this device.¡± She demanded, gesturing to the empty wide elevator shaft. She didn¡¯t spare a glance as a couple of the gangsters dragged Daniel back to his feet, Pathfinder¡¯s manifestation getting a yelp of shock from one of them as she struggled to shove him off. ¡°She¡¯s talking, not smashing.¡± James muttered to TQ. ¡°That¡¯s a good sign.¡± ¡°She is injured. And we cannot fight that many people.¡± TQ hissed. ¡°Even if we do need to reach that door.¡± He was fully aware that his perception had changed, but recognizing being compromised didn¡¯t make him not compromised. James poked his head up over the railing, bringing his shoulder up so Zhu could see too. ¡°We could take them.¡± Zhu offered. ¡°They¡¯re just normal humans.¡± ¡°We have six shield charges left.¡± James told him. ¡°Daniel, what are they saying?¡± James sent. Standing there with his hands up, Daniel was trying really hard to stay calm, and James hated to put him on the spot, but if he could tell them anything now it might help later. ¡°They¡¯re waiting for the elevator. I think¡­ I think they think all the Status Quo guys are dead. Path says ten seconds?¡± ¡°Ten seconds sounds right.¡± Zhu fluttered on James¡¯ neck. ¡°Are we close enough? We can see it. I hope we¡¯re close enough.¡± James felt a surge of anxiety at being in the correct place, but despite his lingering paranoia, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to question it. A series of messages from TQ pinned in his skulljack reminded him that something was wrong, but he still stayed crouched down, with no intention of teleporting away. ¡°There!¡± Zhu¡¯s cheerful word broke him out of his thoughts. James had been sweeping his eyes over the upper walkway rings, looking for any Status Quo movement. They weren¡¯t shooting right now, but they absolutely weren¡¯t dead, no matter what the gang thought. At Zhu¡¯s words though, James refocused on the door. And the elevator that was moving. The heavy cables and winches spinning and twisting as they pulled something up the empty air of the oversized shaft. ¡°This is not good.¡± TQ muttered to James. ¡°Why are we still here?¡± A good question. ¡°Zhu, buddy, come on.¡± James muttered to the navigator on his arm who was tightly clutching the weightless sledgehammer in his glowing grip. ¡°What we doing?¡± Zhu¡¯s eye flicked up to look at James. ¡°We just have to wait?¡± He sounded confused. ¡°And then we¡¯ll be here.¡± The words were stated more confidently, like a verbal determined nod. It wasn¡¯t reassuring. James felt how powerfully they needed to be here, and it was obvious the navigators were the reason for it. But that didn¡¯t mean he felt like they had a tactical advantage. James glanced up, realizing how quiet everything had gotten with the exception of the rumbling of the elevator. ¡°Where did all the Squo guys go?¡± He asked quietly, looking over at TQ. The camraconda met his eyes, but just shook his head. A message to Daniel didn¡¯t get any more information either; he was busy trying to not panic as he was held hostage, and Pathfinder was busy staring at the elevator, just like Zhu and TQ¡¯s navigator. When Daniel, at James¡¯ prompting, tried to ask what they were waiting for with their uneasy truce, one of the other men clubbed him in the gut. Daniel really sold it, but James was pretty sure that wouldn¡¯t have hurt through the armor. ¡°We need an opening.¡± TQ commented. ¡°To make sure we can get them out once we have arrived where we need to be.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± James dipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a pouch he¡¯d been keeping in reserve. ¡°Can you crack orbs with your arms?¡± ¡°No. Here.¡± TQ opened his mouth as James fished out a handful of blue orbs, showing off brass pen tip fangs and a sinuous forked cable tongue that lolled out in invitation. ¡°Quickly, before they notice.¡± James dumped half the orbs into TQ¡¯s mouth. ¡°This is my least favorite camraconda fetish.¡± He muttered as his friend slammed his biomechanical jaw shut. James did the same with the other half of the orbs, though with his hand. Normally he would save his supply of backup second chances for when something went really wrong. But right now, he felt compelled to be in a building that his enemy was suspiciously absent from, with a wounded demigoddess thing and a bunch of dudes that had SMGs pointed at one of his knights. Being the kind of person who sandbagged potions in RPGs meant James might have had a poor ability to assess when to actually use something like a collected pile of blue orbs. But while he was capable of trusting his abilities through some pretty tough situations, right now seemed like a good time to have a little extra advantage. And the bag he¡¯d made a habit of having on his person for the last few months wasn¡¯t going to be useful if something went so wrong he died. So he started cracking orbs while TQ helped him, two minds able to look for anything useful in the solutions quickly than one. [+1 Skill Rank : Templating - Legal - Reykjav¨ªk - Eviction] [Problem Solved : Grocery Shopping] [+1 Skill Rank : Art - Latte] [Problem Solved : Dentist Appointment Made] [+1 Skill Rank : Driving - Tow Truck] [Problem Solved : Elevator Expedited] [+1 Skill Rank : Cleaning - Commercial - Dining] [Problem Solved : Banking] ¡°Got one.¡± James and TQ spoke in unison, before tipping their heads to look at each other. James gave the camraconda a grin, then went first. ¡°Elevator¡¯s going to be here sooner.¡± TQ pressed himself back against the concrete, keeping a low profile. ¡°That was mine as well.¡± He said. ¡°Telepad?¡± ¡°Ready to go.¡± James said. ¡°We just need to grab Daniel and¡­¡± he paused, feeling Zhu tug at his arm. ¡°¡­and¡­¡± his eyes watched as the elevator finished its ascent. The open space slowly filling with a fenced off steel platform, the kind of open lift that he¡¯d never actually seen in real life but that would be perfect for moving huge amounts of cargo. That wasn¡¯t the first thing he saw though. The platform and its secure railings - painted yellow for safety compliance he thought perversely - came into view shortly after the figures that were standing on it. ¡°¡­and¡­ uh¡­¡± James utterly lost his train of thought. Not that he was alone. It looked like the gang members who had been drawn to the door and the elevator beyond it were just as baffled as he was. More, probably, as half of them had their weapons raised and were backing away. Camille¡¯s twin had shifted her stance, her remaining hand twitching like she was grabbing for a weapon she didn¡¯t have, her scorched plate armor keeping anyone from seeing how tense she was. The elevator was packed with living things, and not one of them was human. At least a hundred, maybe two or three, it was hard for James to tell. They were packed in, which made it hard to tell what they actually were. But at least one of his eyes was enhanced enough that he could make out a few details. They were short, maybe four feet tall at most, with a tough green hide. No, not hide, it must be a shell or chitin or something, he realized, because it covered the tops of their bodies in a seashell patterned dome, with a flared crest coming off their backs. Parts of the shell were rounded against the bodies underneath, but lots of the pieces of it looked like they¡¯d been pulled out into ridges or spikes. Squat grey or black faces that were recessed under that shell, with eyes that gleamed where they caught the light. They had legs like needles, four or six or eight, James couldn¡¯t tell, they were packed in so tight and they were shifting constantly, but they weren¡¯t bipeds. As the elevator locked into place with a mechanical chunk, the only sound was the clicking of hundreds of claws on bare metal. ¡°Why¡­ are we here?¡± Zhu asked suddenly. James took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest like an engine revving up. ¡°Because of that I¡¯m guessing.¡± He pointed through the railing to the center of the elevator, shifting aside to let TQ push in next to him and look through their makeshift cover. In the middle of the crowd of nervously shifting bug creatures, there was one person that looked human. While none of the nonhuman pack on the elevator moved, seeming frozen in the face of a dozen men with guns pointed their way, there was a single human woman who strode through the flock like she was wading through a shallow stream. ¡°We need to get Daniel and Path, and get out, now.¡± James hissed through his teeth as he sent the message. ¡°Can you [Move Person]? Daniel, get ready to be shifted.¡± ¡°Twice.¡± TQ nodded. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a pillar.¡± James sent to him silently. The person approaching the group surrounding the elevator was an elderly black woman, a poofy column of hair on her head and a white dress on her thick frame. She spread her arms, pale skin on emaciated muscles not stopping the cheerful grin she wore. ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± She spoke, a ripple of different tones echoing in James¡¯ ears as she swept a hand back to flick some of her long black hair out of her eyes. The manacles wrapped around her wrists, a few loose links of chain dangling from them, were the only thing that stayed consistent as she flickered and changed every time James tried to focus on her too hard. ¡°Chain Breaker.¡± The daughter of the Last Line of Defense spoke, her voice thin from blood loss. But she still moved to intercept the thing that looked like a person, but absolutely wasn¡¯t. James made a mental note. He called the first one of these things he¡¯d met the Old Gun, and that wasn¡¯t her name. The Order had thought that the Chain Breaker might be the actual title for her, but this was someone different. Her smile more unnerving, a sense of furtive madness in the air when she pressed forward. He had no idea what he needed to do here. The only thing that was important was getting out. The woman practically vibrated with danger, and James wasn¡¯t even sure he could fight a one armed version of Camille, much less this new thing and her army of bugs. But he couldn¡¯t just leave Daniel and Pathfinder. ¡°Zhu.¡± He whispered to his friend. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need to rush them, and telepad out. Get ready to guide us in.¡± ¡°Kay.¡± Zhu sounded¡­ small. Guilty maybe. ¡°And me?¡± TQ sent. ¡°Cover me, teleport out if anyone targets you. Don¡¯t risk yourself.¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± He was halfway through rising from his crouch, knees protesting, when the Chain Breaker reached the injured woman and laughed. A light, airy sound, almost shrill, almost frantic. Like her voice, it sounded like several people at once. Camille¡¯s sister started to say something, and the Chain Breaker cut her in half. It happened so fast James wasn¡¯t sure what had just happened. One second, she was there, and then she was in pieces, blood and viscera spilling from the shell of her armor, an unsurprised expression of pain frozen on her face. James froze too as the woman shook blood off her hand and turned to the men who had Daniel and the older man at gunpoint, all of them looking like they wanted to be anywhere else. ¡°You did your jobs!¡± The Chain Breaker spoke as she stepped through the sister¡¯s corpse, plate mail screaming as it was flattened down like sheet metal under her bare and scarred feet. ¡°Excellent! Good! I knew you had it in you!¡± She stepped up to the man who James remembered JP giving him a briefing on, wrapping an arm around his shoulders like an old friend. ¡°Now we¡¯ve got one last thing to do together.¡± Her voice carried through the room. ¡°¡­Get out of here?¡± The athletic man asked, blood clotting on his forehead. ¡°And then get paid?¡± ¡°No!¡± The Chain Breaker seemed to take glee in his twisted expression of discomfort. But there was something else there. She was breathing heavily, James got the impression she was stalling for something. ¡°Well, two things, I lied. First, who are your new friends? Are you the ones who put the twist on my ride?¡± She stepped forward, brushing aside guns like they were nothing, and leaned forward to peer into Daniel¡¯s eyes. ¡°Did you alter the world?¡± She asked. It was hard to hear Daniel the same was as her, but James made out the knight offering a ¡°Not today, no.¡± In a strained tone. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Hm. Well, doesn¡¯t matter!¡± The Chain Breaker leaned back, rubbing a hand on her wrinkled face. ¡°Soon you¡¯ll all be free!¡± Her head turned slowly, until she locked eyes with James through the gap in the railing he was crouched behind . ¡°Every one of you.¡± She spoke. ¡°Going on without me. So rude. But it¡¯s for the best. There¡¯s so many people trapped down here.¡± ¡°Oh good, it¡¯s insane.¡± TQ hissed next to James at a low volume. ¡°It¡¯s going to kill them all.¡± James said, rising to his feet and feeling TQ straighten up next to him, the camraconda keeping low but ready to sighed. ¡°Zhu, I-¡° The navigator flared in a hot orange light. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± He sounded frantic. ¡°It was-¡° ¡°Not important!¡± James cut his friend off harshly. ¡°You¡¯re connected to Speaky, and I know El¡¯s out of here. Go, now. You¡¯re going to need to get us out of here since there¡¯s no GPS in this tube.¡± Zhu opened several more frightened eyes on James¡¯ arm, looking up at him with a clear question unasked. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna die.¡± James stated, eyes locking with the Chain Breaker¡¯s as she gave him a maddened grin from across the narrow band of concrete that separated the two of them. ¡°I¡¯m just going to talk. I need you to get us out of here. You did it before, now go, before we¡¯re out of time.¡± Zhu stared at him for a second longer, before stretching his ethereal arm around in front of James, holding the hammer up at eye level and letting James take it deliberately in his free hand. Then Zhu closed his eyes, and receded back into James¡¯ body. James glanced down at TQ. ¡°I¡¯d send you out too, but¡­¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t leave. My species have a fifty percent death rate against things like her.¡± TQ¡¯s mechanical arms curled at his side as he slithered along side James, the two of them slowly approaching. ¡°Help me change that.¡± James would have laughed if he didn¡¯t feel an abyssal terror in his chest. But he had something to do right now. ¡°Hello!¡± He called. A few of the gathered men flinched at his approach, guns held at hips trained his direction. But not that many. Most of them were still eying the army of bug creatures. The monsters hadn¡¯t moved off the elevator, instead their glinting oval eyes watched everything like they were waiting for a signal, or a command perhaps. Not that it made the group of seemingly normal humans any more calm around them. James had no idea what they were doing here, so, he decided to just ask at some point. ¡°So nice of you to stop skulking and join us!¡± The Chain Breaker exalted James and TQ as they approached. ¡°A true hero, you are! I¡¯ve heard of you from my sister!¡± ¡°Oh, good.¡± James winced as he let the sarcasm slip out. The Chain Breaker laughed wildly. ¡°Don¡¯t fret! I¡¯m nothing like that bitter old harlot!¡± She took a step closer, and TQ tensed next to James, sending him a ping about how he was trying to stop her, and it wasn¡¯t doing much. ¡°I¡¯m on your side, you see.¡± The lithe young Indian woman whispered, her voice resounding across the mostly emptied prison. ¡°I can see it in you; you want what I want. You want everyone to be free.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s on my to do list, I agree.¡± He said, trying to keep his voice steady. ¡°You woudn¡¯t happen to know where all the jailers went, would you?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± She looked around like it was something that had only just occurred to her. ¡°Oh, off to collapse the building, of course.¡± She said, waving a hand in the air. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it will be quick. Thorough, too! No sense being in pain at the end.¡± Oh good, James thought. She actually was planning to kill them all. ¡°Some freedom.¡± He muttered. ¡°No sense moving all these fine people from one set of chains to another, is there?¡± The Chain Breaker smiled, before flicking her eyes toward TQ. ¡°That¡¯s very rude.¡± She spoke to the camraconda. ¡°Is this how you hurt Blitzkrieg? She whined about it for weeks.¡± TQ didn¡¯t rise to the bait, just keeping his eye locked on the thing shaped like a woman. James filed away that dual piece of information. He didn¡¯t have time to banter with this thing if the building was going to be coming down. They needed an exit, and he had no idea how long Zhu would take. ¡°This wasn¡¯t the deal!¡± The voice came from the other side of his conversation partner. The tough looking man who had mostly stopped bleeding at this point looked like he wanted to be talking to literally anyone else than the woman who was trailing part of someone¡¯s entrails on her foot. ¡°You fucking lied to us!¡± ¡°Of course I did.¡± The Chain Breaker didn¡¯t even turn toward him. ¡°You¡¯re humans. Fleeting. Meaningless. You don¡¯t matter.¡± Her eyes were three different colors, all of them furious. ¡°You, though. You¡¯re something new.¡± She took another step toward James and TQ. ¡°Both of you. An adapting idiot ape, and a starborn little snake. Imagine the problems you¡¯d cause if you were left to rampage around.¡± ¡°I¡¯m from Earth actually.¡± TQ¡¯s voice was emotionless, little effort put into the banter. James nodded. ¡°Also idiot ape was my nickname in high school.¡± He said seriously, then raised his voice. ¡°All of you, back off!¡± He shouted to the others. Being a member of a street gang, admittedly, made James think a little less of them, but not ¡®involve them in a fight with a Pillar¡¯ less. They were people, and they deserved better than this. ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight you.¡± He told the Chain Breaker. Or he tried to, anyway. One of the young men, face twisted in a grimace somewhere between terror and rage, tried to shoot her. Tried, because it didn¡¯t work. The Chain Breaker took several rounds across the side of her torso and face, the wet slaps of flesh distorting barely audible over the rattling fire of the illegally automatic weapon. James flinched, and saw a wave as the bugs did too, all of them bowing down slightly on their spiky legs to cower. The Chain Breaker didn¡¯t even turn. Just flicked one of her wrists out as her opalescent blood stopped flying away from her and pulled back into her injuries, the skin sealing over like it was just a clever illusion. The few links of chain on her wrist extended out, like there were miles and miles of hidden iron just behind the scenes, and impacted with the shooter, dull metal punching through his chest and then rending him open as the Chain Breaker flicked her hand again and caught the end of her own chain, human blood dripping off it and splattering around the room. He wasn¡¯t the only one hit; two others went down screaming, but at least they weren¡¯t instantly dead. She kept talking like nothing had interrupted her. ¡°Of course you don¡¯t! You think you¡¯re heroic!¡± She beamed at him. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You meddled with the timing, but you¡¯re doomed anyway.¡± The thing rolled her head around, cracking her neck in a gesture James was certain didn¡¯t actually do anything. ¡°I won¡¯t even have to kill you myself. I¡¯m really just here to gloat, you know?¡± ¡°Why are you even doing this at all?¡± He asked her, trying not to break in fear. ¡°You¡¯re jailbreaking all these guys, just to kill them? Why?!¡± She stared at him like he was an idiot. ¡°Because I¡¯m the Chain Breaker.¡± She said, her teenage voice full of so much pain under the cracked grin. ¡°Well. It was nice meeting you! Now let go of me or I¡¯ll tear your hard drive out.¡± It addressed TQ with a sudden flare of malice. The camraconda stiffened, but James just set a hand on his head. ¡°Let her go.¡± He said softly. ¡°But-¡° ¡°Let it go.¡± James repeated. ¡°What, you think she¡¯s weak to getting hit with a hammer? No. Let her go.¡± The camraconda twitched uncomfortably, but then dipped his head and broke eye contact. The Chain Breaker was laughing with uncontrolled manic glee right up until the moment she wasn¡¯t there anymore, and they were all left alone. ¡°James!¡± Daniel called over to him, trying to lean around the men with guns that were packed around him, weapons still up. ¡°Path needs to talk to you!¡± He stumbled over the words, something about everything here making him deeply uncomfortable. Probably the way two of the larger men had grabbed his arms and pinned him in place. James walked up to the new group¡¯s leader like he wasn¡¯t afraid of the army of bugs still seemingly nervously dancing on their spiked claws off to his side. He had to step carefully to avoid getting any bits of Lloyd¡¯s daughter on his shoes, and he really, really carefully avoided looking at the smashed remnants of her face, still staring up at the ceiling in a dead eyed gaze. ¡°Herc, I assume. Nice to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances. Give me back my knight.¡± Being half a head taller than James might have made the man in front of him bigger, but it didn¡¯t feel that way as he replied. ¡°What the fuck is going on here?¡± ¡°You got dragged into an attempted genocide by some kind of weird god-thing. Sorry.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this, and I can maybe get you guys out of here. Let him go.¡± He pointed at Daniel. One of the two dudes holding him let go just at the words, but the other one waited for a nod from his boss to do so. ¡°Thanks. TQ! Medical! Daniel, what¡¯s up?¡± James asked as the kid stumbled over to him and the camraconda raced past to shut down the bleeding of one of the men lying on the concrete. It wasn¡¯t Daniel that answered. Instead, Pathfinder blossomed out of his arms and chest, the radiant navigator manifesting in a way that brought shouts of alarm from those around them. ¡°Take my hand.¡± She said frantically. ¡°I must follow Zhu, to guide them back.¡± ¡°That was one of them.¡± Daniel had to repeat half his sentence, but he swallowed his fear as James grabbed Pathfinder¡¯s outstretched talon. ¡°What the fuck.¡± ¡°I¡¯m with the kid. What the fuck, Herc?¡± One of the armed men demanded. ¡°We were supposed to get paid, not this! And what the fuck are those?!¡± He was pointing his gun at the bugs, apparently having decided James wasn¡¯t gonna need to be shot. James glanced at them. ¡°No idea. They look scared though, so stop yelling. Path, how are we?¡± ¡°Easy as driving.¡± Her voice receded to a whisper. ¡°A minute, two.¡± ¡°What the fuck is that thing?¡± The gangster demanded again, leveling his gun at James¡¯ head. ¡°I want some answers out of you, dammit!¡± James spared him an annoyed look. A minute ago there¡¯d been an unkillable volition monster in the room with them, and right now he wasn¡¯t impressed by the gun. But then he remembered that bullets would actually hurt him, so he snapped out a rapid recap. ¡°You got hired to do something that thing couldn¡¯t, for some reason. She never intended to pay you, or rescue these guys, and assumed the guys that own this place would blow it up.¡± He motioned to the bugs with his sledgehammer, wincing as he saw them all flinch again, pressing back on their crowded platform. ¡°This is Pathfinder, she¡¯s helping us get everyone out of here. She¡¯s a¡­ map ghost.¡± The term was inaccurate but not totally unhelpful. Herc didn¡¯t seem to think so though. ¡°And I¡¯m just supposed to buy that shit?¡± From somewhere outside the prison, an explosion sounded. Well, probably an explosion. The sound of something blowing up was actually sort of hard for James to meaningfully distinguish from something crashing, or collapsing, or being a particularly large monster walking into walls. There was texture to the sounds, he knew that, but despite how much he joked about his life being a series of random explosions, he didn¡¯t know how to differentiate. When another noise resounded, like the distant crunching of metal and stone against each other, and the floor shook and plumes of rock dust started falling from the ceiling, James was pretty sure that it was bad. ¡°We¡¯re gonna fucking die!¡± Someone shouted. More shouts sounded. ¡°Run!¡± Someone else yelled. And that was it, the survivors started to scatter, half of them trampling over one of the downed men, one person splashing their shoes right through what was left of Camille¡¯s sister. James tried to shout something, tried to stop them. There wouldn¡¯t be any time to get out of the building, and he knew it. Their only chance was to stay here and hope the teleport came through in time. But he couldn¡¯t make himself heard over the building rumbling, and the frantic yells. His voice came out as what sounded like a hoarse whisper that didn¡¯t get anyone¡¯s attention, and half the gang was scattered to sprinting up the ramps before James could stop them. ¡°No, dammit!¡± He yelled as loudly as he could. But no matter how much it hurt to let them go, it wasn¡¯t like James could do anything to stop them. A chunk of concrete split off from the wall as the prison started to tip. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to drive home the fact that this place wasn¡¯t going to be survivable in the near future. The rock bounced off the floor, and James shared a grim look with Daniel, who just helplessly shrugged. ¡°Path says they¡¯re¡­¡± Part of the world next to James opened up. A tiny little hole in space, a disc that wasn¡¯t here anymore. Zhu tugged him to look at it right away as the navigator flooded back to James, and the four of them started as natural sunlight streamed into the prison from a little sliver of somewhere else. Then the pings started coming across James¡¯ skulljack link. Messages from the Order that had been buffered and were now flooding back in, all capped off by one important one. Alanna, expressing displeasure. ¡°Get your asses grouped up now kids!¡± The text read. And then, one very important text from someone James wasn¡¯t expecting. Sarah¡¯s words, simply reading ¡°Singing doesn¡¯t work over skulljack, but now you know we¡¯re in contact.¡± And then a light shove across a link he hadn¡¯t felt turn on, and James felt whole again. Refreshed, sharper, calmer. Nothing compared to how they¡¯d practiced, but still a little, and enough. James eyed the expanding circle, where the walls and floor no longer were here but instead lead to there; a freestanding portal already to go. Then he did some quick math on where certain people were. ¡°Daniel, get TQ, get the wounded over here.¡± James ordered, and Daniel rushed to obey. Then he turned to the elevator, and the newest problem he¡¯d already personally decided how to deal with. Several hundred glimmering oval eyes stared back at him, the bugs still doing their strange little half-kneeling thing as the watched and waited. Some of them, James realized, were shaking. But they didn¡¯t break and run, they didn¡¯t attack. They just sat there. ¡°Who wants to get out of here?¡± He asked them. They didn¡¯t answer, just stared. More, larger, chunks of concrete started to fall around them. The exchange of two places grew a little larger. ¡°Come on!¡± James tossed the hammer back into the portal site, leaving his hands free to motion them forward. ¡°Come on! We¡¯re not perfect on the other side, but we¡¯re not certain death!¡± Zhu flicked a feather into his nose. ¡°You are the worst at this.¡± The informorph growled. And then raised his voice. ¡°You¡¯re all going to die here, and if you come with us you won¡¯t!¡± James scrunched his face up. ¡°Holy shit you¡¯re bad at this too.¡± ¡°I¡¯m you, this is your fault!¡± Zhu snapped. None of this was reassuring the flat, almost turtle-like faces that were staring at him from under the cover of their shells. James sighed, and wasted precious time dropping down onto one knee, trying to not think about getting hit in the head by the building that was starting to come apart around them or the sound of something definitely exploding outside. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re here,¡± he said in his calmest voice that still carried to them, ¡°or what the Chain Breaker lied to you about, or if you can even understand me.¡± James turned his head and looked behind himself, to where there was more and more of the shape of a sphere cut into the air as the teleporter did its job. ¡°But I want you to live. And I want to get to know you. And you don¡¯t have to be afraid of me.¡± He held out a hand to them, and waited, and waited, precious heartbeats passing as they just stared at him. ¡°Please.¡± James said, dropping his arm. ¡°We have to go.¡± He stood back up and took a few steps back, motioning for them to follow off the elevator and through the profile of that massive sealed door. ¡°James!¡± Daniel¡¯s voice hit him from behind, but James ignored it, opting to slowly backpedal, making what he hoped was a soothing motion with his hands. ¡°Come on! Alanna will actually kill me if you get stuck here!¡± ¡°What am I supposed to say?¡± James whispered to Zhu, half out loud, half in his head. He knew there was something. There was always something to say. But right now, he was coming up blank for the magic words, and just hoping that they¡¯d move. And then, as his heart thudded and anxiety mounted, one of the bugs inched a foot over the elevator platform threshold. Very carefully, James said nothing, and just nodded and kept motioning. The creature, like it was confused as to how it was even doing this itself, took another step, then another. Testing the metal rail of the doorframe, and then the concrete beyond it. ¡°Oh, that doesn¡¯t look good.¡± A voice spoke behind James. Someone new. He turned again, the whole back wall of the prison gone now, replaced by a scene of late day sunshine and green trees on the other side of an open field. People were standing just outside the transfer line, members of the Order who had evacuated from this building not too long ago, as well as others. A lot of them were scrambling to get into position having seen the wall of bugs on the far side, but Ben was standing right up against the line, a familiar tall and armored ratroach next to him. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°They¡¯re not hostile!¡± Zhu shouted. ¡°Probably!¡± The bugs had frozen in their tentative exploration at the sound of voices, but there was only a minute or so left before the sphere sealed, and James needed them to move into it, now. ¡°Come on!¡± He called, gestures getting bigger, one arm wildly waving them forward. ¡°It¡¯s okay! Come on!¡± What was he supposed to do, except just encourage them onward? Maybe it worked. Or maybe the latest explosion and the rain of falling stone that crashed against the odd shell of teleport motivated them. Or maybe it was something simpler, and it was just the sight of Arrush¡¯s inhuman face standing side by side with the others that broke through their fear. Whichever way, half of them surged into motion, shoving and jostling the others as they raced forward. James braced himself, but wasn¡¯t prepared to be rammed by that many bugs today. They hammered against his legs and hips as they raced by, their shells proving to be very hard even if the points weren¡¯t that sharp. He tried to guide them, giving encouraging pushes and nudges to those near him as the teleport shell started to close itself off. The whole thing closing with what felt like too much speed with a quarter of the bugs left on the other side. So he used the last of his [Move Person] and grabbed two of them, flinging them over his shoulder and slapping his hand into his pocket for the spare blue orb he had to replace it. But it was gone, lost in the scuffle maybe, and James wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d have enough time to absorb it anyway. But Alanna was already two steps ahead of him. Right now, here and there were on fuzzy terms with each other, and a rapid organizational string of messages moved the Order members on the outside of the teleport shell to start exercising their own magic. [Move Person] had become very common in the Order. And now, thirty people pushed it to their own limits, reaching across a few thousand miles via half finished portal to grab the bugs that were now frantically scrambling to pull themselves through the hole in the world, and yank them to safety. And then with a noise like a door clicking shut, the sphere finished its work. And James wasn¡¯t in New York anymore, but somewhere in what he presumed was Oregon, and after standing limply and blinking the sun out of his eyes for a minute, he sagged in relief and exhaustion. Then he fell over as the concrete walkway he was on, no longer suspended by anything but a freestanding line of disconnected structure, tipped sideways into what was previously the central open shaft of air. Part of him considered laying there and faking his own death long enough to take a nap. But when he opened his eyes, he saw Alanna standing over him, arms folded, an unimpressed look on her face. ¡°If this happens again, I¡¯m gonna break up with you.¡± She said, anger in her voice. ¡°Which part? Me looking up at you when you save my ass, or¡­?¡± James paused, and didn¡¯t see a joke in her eyes. ¡°Really?¡± He asked softly. Alanna¡¯s mouth twitched. ¡°Probably not really.¡± She muttered. ¡°What the fuck were you thinking?¡± ¡°In my defense, something fucked with every navigator there.¡± James said. ¡°And we were just doing our best with it. What happened from your end?¡± ¡°Are you really going to do this while you¡¯re lying in a hole?¡± Alanna asked, reaching down to haul him up. James took the hand, letting Alanna pull him into a crushing hug before she helped him up the rounded dirt walls where the chunk of the prison had been swapped out, which meant they¡¯d sent a lot of dirt to be buried in the rubble. That might confused some first responders. There were a lot of others here scrambling to get various jobs done; someone grabbing a pair of camracondas and the injured men and telepading them to a hospital, getting the bug creatures out of their own fallen places, checking them for injures, checking everyone for injures, clearing chunks of sheered concrete out of the way so they didn¡¯t fall on anyone. People were on their phones, and more members of the Order were rapidly teleporting in as the scope of the situation became clear. People with Recovery, and extra hands from Response to do first aid and bring water and food for the survivors. Though they didn¡¯t know what the little green shelled creatures ate yet, James was sure someone was on that. His partner led him to where Nate was bandaging an injured JP, with Ben and Arrush¡¯s armored forms standing nearby. The two of them were awkwardly flanking Camille¡¯s form in her own armor, the woman looking out of place in full plate mail next to the more modern military gear. ¡°Okay. What the fuck are we looking at?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°There was a pillar.¡± James said, cutting to the point. ¡°Chain Breaker. Not the one we thought. She can do something to navigators, and that¡¯s why Zhu felt like we had to stay.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorr-¡° James cut his friend off. ¡°Being fucked over like that isn¡¯t your fault.¡± He said flatly. ¡°It never is. We¡¯ll find a way to do better next time, but being mind controlled isn¡¯t on you.¡± James looked back up at the others, one hand resting on Zhu¡¯s feathered arm as it intersected his own. ¡°She was the one who got that gang in there to open the door. She wanted Status Quo to demolish the building and kill them, and the bugs, and anyone else caught in there. That didn¡¯t happen. Thanks, by the way.¡± ¡°Anytime.¡± Alanna said. Nate looked up from tying off a bandage on JP¡¯s chest, letting James¡¯ friend pull his bloodied shirt back down. ¡°The building is gone.¡± He said. ¡°They had it rigged to blow, and I¡¯m pretty sure it was on a timer while we were still fighting.¡± ¡°That¡­ checks out.¡± James nodded slowly, his brain chugging, still borrowing a little mental acuity from Sarah and the others, though he stopped when he realized they were probably going to need it all themselves soon. ¡°TQ and I both used blues that sped up the elevator, which threw off Chainy¡¯s timeline. We were all supposed to die. I don¡¯t even think she meant to catch us, I think we were targets of opportunity.¡± He felt like he was rambling, but didn¡¯t stop talking. ¡°Oh, and the other one is called - well, she called it - Blitzkrieg. Said we hurt it somehow, so I guess that shooting them works. And I think it drains her to kill people directly. And also she cut Cam¡¯s sister in half. And¡­ and¡­¡± James felt his hands shaking. ¡°And I¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Sit down.¡± Nate ordered, pointing to the grassy ground next to JP¡¯s camp chair. Then he looked up at the chunk of architecture sticking out of the middle of the gravel parking lot and sighed deeply. ¡°Well shit.¡± He muttered. Alanna nodded. ¡°At least he brought us a prisoner.¡± She offered helpfully. A shifting motion caught her eye, and she glanced at a nervously worried Arrush. ¡°You sit too.¡± She told the ratroach, pointing next to James, who had his eyes closed and was trying to focus on breathing. Nate cocked an eyebrow at her and ignored that second part. ¡°The armored chick?¡± He asked. ¡°What? No. She¡¯s fine.¡± Alanna shook her head. ¡°I mean the Status Quo one.¡± Nate looked around the field as more and more people added to the ongoing chaos, the bugs spreading out and nervously keeping away from most of the Order¡¯s knights and helpers. ¡°Woman, just fucking tell me who before I lose it.¡± Alanna rolled her eyes at him and pointed to where a well dressed but bloody figure was kneeling in the dirt, hands ziptied behind her back, a somewhat deadened expression on her face. ¡°She did technically surrender, so I don¡¯t think we should shoot her.¡± Alanna offered. A pair of Responders ran by, carrying a stretcher between them. Someone shouted as a chunk of the building tipped and threatened to fall. People started vanishing and reappearing with the materials to set up shade tents under the aggressive summer sun. Alanna felt like she needed to help, and shook her head, while JP just watched it all and tried to not think about having been shot. ¡°What a fucking mess.¡± The two friends said mostly in unison. ¡°Trust James to get sent out to rescue two people and come back with a new species.¡± Ben said. He ignored the gobsmacked stare that JP gave him as he worked to draw out Planner into the space around himself. ¡°Should we see if we can sort this out before nightfall?¡± He asked, as if that was reasonable. ¡°Shut the fuck up Ben.¡± Alanna grumbled in a mostly friendly way as she unclipped her ballistic vest and dumped it on the ground next to him. ¡°Ping me if you need anything, I¡¯m gonna go make sure we didn¡¯t bury anyone in the middle of fucking Yamhill with the sphere-o-port.¡± Ben nodded as everyone either split off, or closed their eyes and tried to pretend they didn¡¯t hurt too much. ¡°Alright.¡± He said cheerfully. ¡°Back to work! Arrush, do you¡­¡± He paused as he realized the ratroach was no longer next to him, and was instead letting James lean against him on the ground. ¡°Okay, um¡­ Nate¡­¡± the big man had already stalked off. ¡°Planner, can you¡­ no, you¡¯re busy¡­ okay.¡± Ben blinked as he got the impression of someone frantically trying to sort things out pushed into his soul. ¡°Huh. Um¡­¡± The friend looked around the nearby area for anyone who looked like they didn¡¯t have anything going on. ¡°Camille, right?¡± He asked the only person that wasn¡¯t occupied. ¡°Would you¡­ can I¡­ ah, that is¡­¡± Ben stopped, and met the woman¡¯s stare. Then he decided that he could do whatever he needed himself, and just nodded once. ¡°Alright. Nice to meet you. I¡¯ve gotta get moving.¡± In a way, the hard part was over. The fight was, for now at least, done. But in another sense, the real challenge started now. A few hundred new faces, with unknown needs and unknown communication ability, and all the logistical problems that came along with that. He hadn¡¯t been around for the last one. But weirdly, Ben was excited to see how they handled it. So he left the knights to recover, and got to work with everyone else. Chapter 246 ¡°The child naively believes that everything should be fair and everyone should be honest, that only good should prevail, that everybody should have what they want and there should be no pain or sadness. The child believes the world should be perfect and is outraged to discover it is not. And the child is right.¡± -Rabi Tzvi Freeman, Wisdom To Heal The Earth- _____ ¡°Hey.¡± James spoke softly to Zhu as the two of them took refuge under one of the shade tents that were set up. They were by themselves for a bit amongst the rapid bustle of everything going on; even Arrush had been called away to try to be an example of a nonhuman for their new guests. James didn¡¯t have a chair, but that was fine; there was a chunk of rock that wasn¡¯t unreasonably uncomfortable that he was leaning on, and James was too tired to worry about the little bugs that were investigating his shoes. He waited a bit for Zhu to respond, but when no answer came, he continued on his own. ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t it?¡± Zhu¡¯s blunt response wasn¡¯t really a question. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be your protector, and instead, I was used. Used to try to kill you, even if on accident. I didn¡¯t have to do anything for it to be a problem that only exists because I do.¡± Zhu¡¯s dusty orange glow clawed at his own feathers, and James couldn¡¯t figure out a position to move his own arm where Zhu couldn¡¯t keep up the nervous tic. ¡°Technically I think I¡¯m your guardian. Or parent? Or a bit of both. Whatever.¡± James sighed. ¡°Keeping me safe isn¡¯t your responsibility.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Zhu asked. ¡°I¡¯m a tool. And I don¡¯t mean that just to make you uncomfortable; my life is my function. I love travel, I love movement. I love you, too. Why wouldn¡¯t I want to-¡° ¡°Everything you just said precludes you being a tool, so maybe pick better language.¡± James scoffed as he cut in. ¡°I love words, and you¡¯re using them badly. You¡¯re essentially saying that I¡¯m a tool for reshaping carbon, because I have to eat and breathe. It¡¯s not the same thing.¡± Zhu clenched his claws in a motion that would have ripped flesh apart if he were actually solid. ¡°But I almost got us killed.¡± ¡°Oh, like I didn¡¯t?¡± James tried to catch Zhu¡¯s hand in his own, but the navigator deftly dodged. ¡°Me, the guy who said ¡°okay JP, let¡¯s raid a Status Quo building with no prep or intel during a massive clusterfuck of third parties¡±? You think I¡¯m not responsible for everyone who got hurt?¡± There was a pause, and Zhu pivoted the eye on James¡¯ shoulder to look up at him with sympathy. ¡°No one died though.¡± He reminded his friend softly. ¡°Yeah, and that includes us.¡± James said. ¡°So if you¡¯re not mad at me, I won¡¯t be mad at you. Alanna might be mad, though! But Alanna gets angry sometimes.¡± Zhu gave a short gravely chuckle. ¡°Also you are not my parent. More like¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Something else.¡± They watched as a group of younger humans and camracondas, here helping out, struggled to get another tent up together. James wanted to tell them that they needed someone giving directions, and that if the camracondas froze the tent poles, they could save two steps, but he let them figure it out themselves. The extra hands were still helpful, and it felt like half the Order was out here right now. ¡°I need to get up.¡± James said as he looked toward where all the bugs were milling around in a slowly dispersing flock. They weren¡¯t unattended or alone, but it was clear they were becoming antsy. James wasn¡¯t sure if the Order even knew how to help them, but he was sure that letting a few hundred members of a new species into the woods of Yamhill was a great way to get some of them shot by twitchy farmers, and then permanently disrupt the ecosystem. ¡°You¡¯re trying to forget that I was used to try to kill you.¡± Zhu reminded him rudely. James sighed as he sat forward, already feeling the burning ache in his legs from the combination of a lot of exertion and also the adrenaline crash that was still sort of happening. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t care.¡± He muttered to his friend. ¡°I got by just fine with hostile antimemes trying to kill me, I¡¯ll get by better without them but with one potential problem from you. If you have to look at it as a balance sheet, then I¡¯m picking the option with the fewest vulnerabilities. But don¡¯t look at it that way. Because I¡¯m choosing to tell you that I¡¯m prioritizing you. And if it¡¯s really a problem, well, let¡¯s find you a couple more people to spread to, and you can stay with them when I¡¯m on combat ops. There¡¯s solutions to this that aren¡¯t just you fucking being depressed about it; I¡¯m here, there¡¯s already enough depression in this relationship.¡± There wasn¡¯t a verbal response right away. Or at all, really. But Zhu did stop trying to pick at his own manifestation, and slowly let his feathered arm wrap around James¡¯ own limb in something like a hug. Feathers and smoky light held tight against his sleeve and skin. ¡°Okay.¡± James whispered to himself. ¡°Time to get this cleaned up.¡± Standing up was hard, but he had a feeling it was going to be the easy part. _____ There was a laundry list of problems to tackle, but while James was more than willing to get to work on any or all of them by himself, that kind of overworked martyr complex wasn¡¯t exactly useful anymore. Or ever. The Order now boasted members with enough scattered skill orbs that they had people for interrogation, healing, crowd control, logistics, cryptography, and anything else they needed rapidly in the wake of their battle. James could, and would, roll up his sleeves and help wherever he was needed, but that wasn¡¯t exactly what he was best at. What he was good at was what his now accepted title meant. Being a paladin. And that meant, in times like this, that his job was to go to all those people, and make sure that if there was anything someone else needed to know, they got to know it rapidly. The Order lacked the kind of standard bureaucracy that streamlined communication like that, and frankly it probably would for a long time. The way that a single delve of a new dungeon could upend the positions and capabilities of a dozen people meant that having forms and protocols wasn¡¯t as robust as it needed to be. So James only briefly checked in with the new species. They were spread out, but loosely ringed by the tents and workstations the Order had set up. Some of them were poking at dirt or grass with their clawed legs. Others seemed to have either decided to nap, or had gone catatonic, and had all six of their legs folded up under their shells, with not even their eyes showing through the shadows of their organic shields. They looked like a field of spiked rocks like that, clustered up in patches. A lot of them, though, just stood watching the Order members that were keeping their distance. They didn¡¯t approach, and the Order gave them space for now. Which seemed to be safest until they could figure something out. ¡°They have eggs.¡± Arrush told James as he approached. The ratroach was standing, still in his armor, on the perimeter of the field that the bugs were in. His boyfriend had joined them, and was working with a particularly energetic camraconda nearby to drag a water tank out of a truck and over to the field. Everyone except Keeka looked a little nervous, though; there was a sense of tension that hadn¡¯t gone away yet. James nodded as he didn¡¯t quite process what Arrush had said, instead just being kinda glad to see the big ratroach doing okay. Then his brain caught up. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± Arrush pointed toward the center of the field, and James realized that the scattered bugs weren¡¯t quite so scattered. There was a cluster of them in the middle, and many of the ones that had strayed out to explore were still focused in a circle around them. The bugs clearly saw Arrush pointing, and a lot of the more alert ones shifted their focus his direction, until James reached up and slowly pulled the ratroach¡¯s arm down. He turned away, and looked out of the corner of his eye, only enough to confirm what had been passed on. ¡°Okay, yeah. Those sure look like eggs.¡± James sighed. ¡°That doesn¡¯t change anything about how we¡¯re going to treat them, but it does mean they¡¯ll be skittish, probably.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush nodded, still watching the field. ¡°Nik says it would be¡­ an ecological disaster.¡± ¡°Okay, Nik doesn¡¯t get to comment on this. Nik constantly does risky shit with magic.¡± James grumbled. He waved slowly at a passing bug, it¡¯s squat leathery face peering at him curiously from under the cover of its shell. ¡°I¡¯m realizing that they needed a name for these guys.¡± James sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t want another ratroach problem.¡± Arrush tensed up. ¡°I¡¯m a problem?¡± His voice was a strained almost-squeak. ¡°What? Oh, shit! No! I meant¡­¡± James leaned over to hug Arrush with one arm. ¡°I meant the name. Christ, I¡¯m bad at this. The name ¡®ratroach¡¯ isn¡¯t a good one, but we¡¯re all used to it, and no one can agree on what to change to. So if we¡¯re going to name a species that doesn¡¯t have a name for itself already, we need to actually think before we just call them turtle-bugs or something.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Arrush sagged against James. ¡°Is this why¡­ JP told some to stop calling them antlions?¡± James blinked, eyebrows going up of their own accord. ¡°Wow, shit, they do look a bit like antlions, don¡¯t they? Huh!¡± He grunted in surprise. ¡°Also yes. Also don¡¯t call them that. We¡¯ll ask them when we can. If they¡¯re even sophont! We haven¡¯t even confirmed that they¡¯re smarter than, like, dogs.¡± ¡°Your dog is in college.¡± He couldn¡¯t hold back a laugh at Arrush¡¯s statement, amusement mixing with another feeling in his chest. ¡°I fucking love seeing you get better.¡± James shook his head as Arrush titled away, flushing green around his eyes. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m gonna go see what I can learn about all these new friends. Take care of them, okay?¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Arrush nodded, glad to be given a simple instruction that he didn¡¯t have to feel any embarrassment about. ¡°I am going to help with the water. Good luck.¡± James nodded, and headed away from the field. There were about forty people there right now, they didn¡¯t need him getting in the way too. Or almost forty, depending on how Marlea counted. The pair of bodies that had decided to be a single person was helping to rope off the chunk of the prison complex that had been dropped here, setting up a barrier warning people away just in case it shifted. It was good proactive thinking, and James appreciated it; he wasn¡¯t too ashamed to admit he probably would have stood next to it and gotten crushed by a falling piece of architecture if he wasn¡¯t actively warned. Assured that the new bug friends weren¡¯t going to be an immediate problem, James went to find someone who could tell him what he needed to know. _____ The gravel parking lot that the Order was getting into the habit of using as an emergency teleport landing spot did have a house on the property. It was run down, but not crumbling, and they¡¯d bought the whole thing for cheap. There was even a barn and a few other structures too, on what used to be a pumpkin patch and was now a test ground for orange totems that happened to have pumpkins on it. The house was where they were keeping their one prisoner. Along with all their stolen Status Quo documents, and the laptops that some of the rogues were using to try to access the files they¡¯d stolen off any computer in the building that Yin and Myles had gotten their hands on before they¡¯d had to bail. The farmhouse also didn¡¯t have power, exactly. It just had two copies of the magical power strip that he remembered looting from Officium Mundi what felt like a lifetime ago. The other ends were probably plugged in back at the Lair, driving up their power bill, but keeping the laptops and lamps on. James gave a nod to the handful of humans and camracondas who were either irately tapping on keyboards, or just glaring at screens their skulljacks were plugged into. He was ignored, but that was fine, because he¡¯d check in on them later. For now, he made his way to one of the mostly empty upstairs rooms. They were under no illusion that the building could hold the woman they¡¯d brought back with an old wooden door. But at least if she tried kicking her way through the walls, they¡¯d have some noise as warning. And in here was farther away from the bugs outside, and James had some questions about that. In here there was also one of their new security teams. The people who they¡¯d recruited and trained up specifically for anti-human violence when it was called for. James still felt weird about the Order having soldiers, but that was a complicated knot of emotions that he didn¡¯t have time to sort out now, and at the moment, it was better that the group was available and not needed than the other way around. Two of them were standing in the hallway near the door to the room, and one of the pair let him in with a professional knock and without a word. All of the security team in the building were wearing skulljack braids, and silently getting better and better at operating as a unit with them. In contrast to a lot of the Order that developed their skills through dungeon delves or frantic survival situations, these young men and women started with a foundation of demanding training, and then had orbs and books stacked on top of it. They were partly an experiment, but while James hadn¡¯t had much time to talk to them personally, he was aware that the lot of them were exceptionally loyal. After all, they¡¯d been given something that had been a distant wish before running into the Order of Endless Rooms; an opportunity. Also a lot of money, and the well being of any family they had. Powerful motivations. He¡¯d need to catch up with them later though. For now, James silently tried to not interrupt Ben and Alanna as they interrogated their prisoner. ¡°Sounds pretty hard.¡± Ben was saying, nodding empathetically to the woman across the table from him. She¡¯d had the zip ties taken off her wrists, but it was still obvious she was a prisoner, if only because there was another of the security team, as well as an armored camraconda in the corners of the room. ¡°Was the pay good, at least?¡± The woman¡¯s mouth twitched in a scowl. ¡°Not really. It¡¯s insulting. Once you¡¯re in, you get informed that you can¡¯t really leave. The pay was good at first, and the benefits are top notch, but there¡¯s basically no raises. But what am I supposed to do? Quit? Even if they don¡¯t kill me, it¡¯s not like I can go anywhere else.¡± ¡°Understandable.¡± Ben leaned back. ¡°I¡¯m in a similar position, for different reasons.¡± He said in that same kind voice. ¡°You¡¯re probably out of a job now, though.¡± ¡°Yeah, well. They also think I¡¯m dead.¡± The woman said with a shrug. ¡°Maybe I can crash on your couch for a while, until I figure things out.¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± Ben stayed noncommittal as James sat down on Alanna¡¯s other side. Alanna, who was writing on a pad of paper, showed something to Ben, who nodded ever so slightly. James had actually assumed that it would be Nate in here. Someone with actual ¡®I did this job in the real world¡¯ experience when it came to asking questions and getting answers. Maybe a good cop bad cop thing going on with someone else. He¡¯d forgotten about Ben. About how terrifying Ben¡¯s innate ability actually was. How anyone who met him found him instantly familiar, and that Ben had an amount of control and could turn that up to eleven when he needed to. It was a good thing that Ben was James¡¯ friend, or else James would be really worried about that power being used against him. Catching Ben¡¯s eye, James made a questioning motion at their prisoner. When Ben gave a tiny nod back, James spoke up for the first time since entering the room. ¡°One quick question.¡± He started. He didn¡¯t get farther than that before her face turned sour and she practically spat at him. ¡°Piss off.¡± Was the instant reply. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Ben spread his fingers as he held a hand in front of James. ¡°I¡¯ll vouch for him.¡± The bloodied woman instantly relaxed, though Alanna signaled something that made James think their prisoner was starting to at least realize that emotional manipulation was being used on her. ¡°¡­alright¡­¡± She said, still apprehensive. ¡°You and your buddy tried to kill me.¡± ¡°You started it. But also, neither of us succeeded, so no hard feelings.¡± James lied, shook his head, and moved on. ¡°I need to know about the bugs.¡± She cocked her head at him like she was confused. ¡°What about them?¡± ¡°Anything you know, please.¡± Ben said quickly taking over for James. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it.¡± ¡°I mean, we¡¯re friends, but it¡¯s still classified. I guess if you¡¯re friends with this asshole you already know a little though.¡± She snorted, which turned into a cough, and ended with her hacking up a small amount of blood into a towel. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± The Status Quo shock trooper waved them off, even though they were all keeping on the other side of the table and hadn¡¯t offered to help at all. ¡°Not like there¡¯s much to tell. They¡¯re a source of extranormal power, but you probably already knew that, since you attacked us over it. Dangerous, too. The current generation might not know it but they¡¯ve killed at least a dozen of my coworkers this year.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Not my problem really.¡± ¡°You seem¡­ apathetic¡­¡± James ventured. ¡°Nah. It¡¯s a little muted these days, but I¡¯ve got anger just fine. And humor. Not annoyance though, but whatever, I won¡¯t miss it.¡± She narrowed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid, either.¡± ¡°No one said you were.¡± Ben offered. The prisoner¡¯s glare didn¡¯t soften this time when she turned to him. ¡°No, but you¡¯re being a really shitty friend.¡± The line of questioning shut down after that. Influenced or not, the woman refused to say another word, and while the Order might be able to come up with some magical ways to force people to talk, that was a fuzzy line of ethics that none of them were quite willing to play with right now. James and Alanna stepped out, leaving their captive still under guard with Ben making idle attempts to talk to her while he laid out everything that they¡¯d learned onto a bullet point document that would get saved to the Order¡¯s files later. ¡°Well that was weird.¡± James sighed as his girlfriend leaned against the kitchen wall downstairs and cracked open a can of soda with a metal snap and hiss. ¡°You doing okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡± Alanna asked, raising her eyebrows as she felt James¡¯ concern for her. He eyed her warily. ¡°The last thing I heard from you during the scrap was you saying you¡¯d been hit, then teleporting out.¡± James said slowly. ¡°Oh. Right.¡± Alanna rubbed the back of her head with her free hand. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Between the hardening potion and the authority, it fucking stung, but¡­ I guess I really am bulletproof now, huh?¡± James caught the small amount of strain in her voice. He might not have magic empathy powers, but he knew his lover well enough to recognize when she was worried. ¡°Part of me wants to ask what¡¯s up with the authority, but fuck that part. What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Eh. Further and further from human, I guess.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it would bother me. But suddenly it feels like a big deal. Everything feels bad all of a sudden, and I kinda hate it, since it¡¯s really useful for me to be able to take shots for people.¡± James nodded, for once actually aware of what was going on. ¡°Is this the hardening potion crash?¡± He asked rhetorically. ¡°Because that always gives me anxiety.¡± ¡°Oh right. Probably.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°It might also be my authority¡­ uh¡­ getting demoted?¡± She raised the can of soda in her hand to tap at the green hoop earring she was wearing. ¡°When I took command of the fight, it was like it was waking up. Not exactly alive, not talking to me, I dunno. But a lot more solid. And when I got shot, I could feel them pulling all the damage away. Because I was a field agent, and I had the responsibility to not get shot in the head.¡± ¡°Cool. You got shot in the head?¡± James¡¯ kept his voice as steady as he could while internally he was screaming incoherently. He tried to quiet that down too when Alanna gave him a perturbed look. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ we need to stop doing this.¡± James said abruptly, everything catching up to him. ¡°Dungeons are one thing. But this is different. I don¡¯t want you to get shot. Ever. Or anyone else either.¡± ¡°Well too bad, because we were all in on this, and a lot of us did get hurt.¡± Alanna snapped at him. A human and camraconda pair that had been walking into the kitchen to grab drinks caught her tone, and slowly inched back out again. ¡°But no one died. Well, almost no one. Hell, almost no one from Status Quo died. That¡¯s so fucking weird. It¡¯s like playing paintball where the stakes are life or death somehow.¡± She shook her head and locked eyes with James. ¡°You already know what I¡¯m gonna say. Just because they aren¡¯t from a dungeon doesn¡¯t mean they aren¡¯t monsters. And you know it too, because I know you do.¡± ¡°I regret giving you open permission to read my mood.¡± James grumbled. But he didn¡¯t rescind it, because she was right. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to lose you. Or anyone, really. But mostly you.¡± ¡°Yeah. I get it.¡± Alanna let out a long stream of breath. Then she gave a single chuckle. ¡°Imagine how Anesh feels.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have to. We¡¯ll probably get to do it ourselves when we plug our brains together tonight. Wait, you can just do it now.¡± He rolled his eyes at her, a little levity restored. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry. For everything. Worrying you, being worried, being an idiot, all of it. Also later we¡¯re gonna have a large talk about what it means to be human, and how it doesn¡¯t matter and I¡¯m not gonna stop loving you!¡± James pointed at her as he headed for one of the kitchen¡¯s door. Alanna waved him out, but James caught the tiny smile as she turned away. _____ ¡°Update please.¡± James was quick with his words for the task force working on the files from Status Quo. The documents, laptops, and whatever digital information the rogues were able to grab before they had to abandon the building were either liberated or looted depending on your perspective, and right now, they were also covering most of the farmhouse¡¯s expansive living room. There were a lot of people here James didn¡¯t know by name, but recognized as faces that worked with Research or Recovery, as well as a half dozen rogues who were helping sort stuff out. And Planner, their sprawling manifested series of tentacles and eyes hovering in the middle of the room in a strangely comforting way, assisting where they could. Eight people tried to talk at once when James asked for an update, and he held up a hand to try to get them to stop while his other hand pressed into his temple, trying to fend off a headache. Zhu joined him in motioning for everyone to shut the hell up, and soon he had a chastised group of investigative researchers waiting for him to pick who should talk first. The main thing he¡¯d gotten from the clamor was that they were working on different things. Not at cross purposes, but there were a thousand different threads to follow, and everyone was going different directions looking for anything that was needed now. So James started with what he was really here for specifically. ¡°The bugs. Who¡¯s got anything on that?¡± ¡°I do.¡± Myles raised his hand from where he was going through a banker¡¯s box of manilla folders. ¡°Not much, but I¡¯ve got a file I know is referencing them.¡± He motioned James over, and spread the document out on a nearby end table that had only recently stopped being a dusty relic and been put back into use. ¡°Here, look at this.¡± James looked. Page after page of printed spreadsheets, annotated where Myles had indicated that they were looking at different years, columns of numbers and cryptic labels for each line. The skill orb James had in cryptography put its work in as he started to draw patterns in the numbers. One of the columns was always the largest number. The others were smaller, and it didn¡¯t take his brain long to find the formula; one addition and three subtractions to the main column each line, with an additional column that didn¡¯t relate. ¡°You¡¯re sure this is for them?¡± He asked, a pit starting to open in his stomach. ¡°We¡¯re still getting a count of how many of the bugs you brought back.¡± Myles said, tapping the main column. ¡°But the last recorded number is pretty close to the estimate. Some of these notes are clearly referencing other documents, but we either don¡¯t have them, or don¡¯t know we have them, so we¡¯re working on that. I just don¡¯t know what the other numbers are.¡± ¡°This one is births.¡± James said, clenching his jaw and not looking up. He heard Myles make a questioning noise, and took a long breath through his nose before explaining. ¡°They have eggs. Hard to tell how many, but this line, the one that¡¯s added every¡­ month, probably¡­ it¡¯s the birth rate. They were down there generationally.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Myles looked at the rest of the spreadsheets. ¡°So the others are¡­ death rates.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Another voice in the room gave a quiet. ¡°Oh god.¡± And James realized that everyone had stopped what they were doing. ¡°They weren¡¯t keeping them as prisoners.¡± Myles said slowly. ¡°They¡¯re livestock.¡± ¡°It¡­ seems likely¡­¡± James said. ¡°Are they¡­¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust turned away from the laptop she was working on to fix James with a wide sad look of her camera eye. ¡°¡­are they people?¡± She sounded so small, in that moment. So distant from the professional figure she usually projected. ¡°We don¡¯t know yet.¡± He sucked air into his lungs, and tried to project the image of someone calm, and not ready to either throw up or start breaking things or both. ¡°Okay. This starts to explain some things. Does anyone else have anything I need to know?¡± Planner spoke up in a subdued tone, their soft voice sounding like a highlighter on an old document. ¡°There were a few infomorphs hidden in the documents. Dumbfire weapons, self-censors. I eliminated them, and there do not seem to be more, but we do not know how much was lost, and we should in the future proceed in considering Status Quo documentation to be trapped.¡± ¡°Got it. Anyone else?¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Nik raised his hand, and James stared at him until the young man slowly let it back down and cleared his throat. ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t think they were related to Status Quo?¡± He got incredulous, or outright angry, stares at the comment, and quickly backtracked. ¡°I mean, our Status Quo. I think they¡¯re different. Almost entirely different.¡± Myles frowned. ¡°But they have the same operational procedures.¡± He said, not really making it a question, just thinking out loud. ¡°I wasn¡¯t around for the first one, was anyone here?¡± Four humans, Planner, and every camraconda raised their hands, tentacles, or snouts. ¡°Did anyone ever figure out where they got started?¡± ¡°No, it was an artificial agency.¡± Nik said. ¡°Or at least, that¡¯s what Reed and Momo called it. And I get it, cause I¡¯m seeing some of the same signs here. Their print documents that go back farther than a few years get¡­ uh¡­ simple?¡± His eyes narrowed as he tried to explain it. ¡°They look fake. I don¡¯t know about the digital files though.¡± ¡°We¡¯re still trying to get into them.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said, her mind plugged into a laptop, camera eye glaring at the cracked screen. ¡°It will not take long.¡± He nodded at her. ¡°So, they look like Status Quo, talk like Status Quo, authoritarian police action like Status Quo¡­ how are they different?¡± James asked the room. Nik shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s less like they¡¯re branches of the same tree, and more like they¡¯re just two of the same species of tree. Maybe it¡¯s just human nature that some people will be shitty, and if they¡¯ve got secrecy infomorphs and guns, they¡¯ll do this.¡± ¡°Unless opposed.¡± James sighed. ¡°Harlan tried to tell me about this. Said that groups like this pop up all the time. They called them¡­ fuck, what was it? Watchers? I don¡¯t remember.¡± James nodded at the group. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ve got my phone on me, and it¡¯s not shot this time, so keep me up to date if you learn anything pressing. I¡¯m looking for more info on the bugs, prisoners, or any ongoing operations they had that we need to intervene in.¡± ¡°Got it boss.¡± Myles told him with a worryingly respectful tone, before the room threw themselves back into their work. James didn¡¯t have the emotional energy to fight it right now. He was still scowling as he stalked out of the farmhouse to find his next target. _____ James passed by the youth group that was helping out as he left, the teenage humans and developing camracondas apparently having been tasked with finding one of the cats that still haunted this mostly abandoned pumpkin patch. He almost smiled at their antics as they made a strategic plan, and felt like whichever adult had sent them on their task was doing a great job keeping them out of the way. But he wasn¡¯t feeling very happy right now. And small things that would have normally amused him felt a lot less funny when contrasted with the fact that Status Quo had been keeping the poor creatures milling around the field prisoner for so long that none of the ones here would have ever even seen the sun. He made his way to the medical tent that had been set up, where a pair of the Order¡¯s bootstrapped healer team were in the process of treating the injuries of some of the knights that had been minorly hurt. It was bizarre to him that they were at a point where ¡®shot in the chest¡¯ was a minor injury, but between shield bracers, authorities, potions, and random other effects, there wasn¡¯t a lot of serious damage. Simon was getting glass shards picked out of their cheek, and Alice was being fussed over by a worried young camraconda while their medic stitched up a gash in her forehead. But no one was dying here. James waited until one of the healers was done, and had disposed of their bloody gloves. ¡°Excuse me.¡± He caught the man¡¯s attention. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± He asked instantly. ¡°No, I¡¯m looking for the new people. Ruby and Prince.¡± James said, naming the mimics that he knew JP had brought out. ¡°Also the other human prisoners we rescued.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know about the rescues, but if anyone was seriously injured, they¡¯ll be in the Lair for surgery and camraconda support.¡± The healer told him. ¡°If they¡¯re one of the ones that didn¡¯t make it¡­¡± he looked away with a pained grimace. James froze. ¡°Who didn¡¯t make it?¡± He dreaded asking. ¡°We have nine bodies, none of them Order.¡± The medic¡¯s voice was a rasp, as he struggled with the sudden presence of violent death in his own life. ¡°The tractor shed over there has been converted into temporary cold storage until we can figure out¡­ anything. I don¡¯t know.¡± The man¡¯s professional attitude cracked. ¡°The actual knight is in there with her sister. Also someone setting up the cold magic.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James nodded. ¡°Good¡­ luck?¡± ¡°You too. Also you sure you¡¯re okay? You¡¯ve got blood on you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not mine.¡± James answered, and only realized that was probably not reassuring when he was halfway across the dirt field specked with little wild vine sprouts and weeds. The woman who wasn¡¯t Cam, two of the gangsters, two squos, four prisoners. The bodies were laid out on tarps as James pushed open the door and rapidly shut it to keep the rush of cold air from flooding out. Some of the corpses were covered, owing to the excessive amount of damage they¡¯d taken and the bloody messes they¡¯d become. Actually, most of them were covered. Bill was here, too. The big man huffing and out of breath as he continually created magical heat exchange tunnels along with a couple of the guys he¡¯d hired to help with the Order¡¯s various ongoing construction projects. James got a nod from him as he entered, as well as from the knight that was watching Camille. James was pretty sure the woman¡¯s name was Ann, but he was also pretty sure she had been injured and not present for this fight, so he reaffirmed his desire to build a system that would tell him people¡¯s names on demand, and headed over to where Camille was kneeling next to her sister¡¯s corpse. ¡°It is Ann.¡± Zhu whispered in his ear. ¡°You are very bad with names, how is this possible? You can remember dungeon patterns down to the number of left turns.¡± ¡°Ann looks a lot like¡­ uh¡­¡± James whispered back, hoping the woman didn¡¯t have super hearing. He tried to think of who, exactly, the middle aged red headed woman did look like, and came up empty. Zhu¡¯s glowing eye, ringed in feathers, emerged from the back of James¡¯ hand to glare up at him. ¡°You are impossible.¡± ¡°Hey Camille.¡± James pivoted his arms behind his back, getting an irate squawk from Zhu as he prioritized the armored woman over his infomorph friend who was currently poking at him. ¡°Long time no see.¡± The girl in bullet pitted plate mail looked up at him with eyes that shimmered behind held back tears. Then she blinked, like she hadn¡¯t noticed James approach, and her face was a professional mask again. ¡°We have never met.¡± She said. And James felt his stomach drop. ¡°I am Camille the Azure, and I know who you are already.¡± ¡°You do?¡± James wasn¡¯t sure if he should be sympathetic, or running right now. He hedged his bets and got ready to dodge to the side, past an old metal barrel, if he needed to. ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± ¡°My sister spoke of you.¡± Camille - they were apparently all named Camille - said, looking back down at her sister¡¯s bisected corpse. Pieces held together with what was left of her armor plate, the smell of gore heavy around what a was left of her. ¡°Not this sister. Violet. She was¡­¡± Camille stopped, as if she had to think a long time about a specific word. ¡°She was kind to me.¡± ¡°How¡¯s she doing?¡± James asked. ¡°Dead. Already being replaced. Violets do not last long.¡± It was said without malice or regret, like it was just a fact of the world. James fucking hated it. ¡°I¡­¡± He trailed off. What was he supposed to even say? ¡°I tried to help her.¡± He said, pitifully. ¡°You did. She remembered. Even though she was ordered not to.¡± Camille¡¯s eyes met James¡¯ own. ¡°She told me that when I decided to run, I should come to you.¡± He raised his eyebrows, but it was Zhu that asked the question. ¡°How did she know you would run?¡± Camille seemed momentarially confused that the infomorph had addressed her, but she recovered well enough. ¡°Azure¡¯s always run.¡± She said. ¡°Or try to.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°I can empathize with that.¡± He muttered, before continuing in a conversational volume. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to dump this on you, but I need to know some things, though I promise we can talk later. And if you¡¯ll follow our rules, you¡¯ve got a place with us where you can be safe and comfortable.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t¡­¡± Camille winced, and cut her words short. The facial tic was a tiny one, but James still caught it. A few skills and his own life experience filled in the unspoken blanks; here was a woman who wasn¡¯t supposed to speak out of turn, and had just caught herself doing so. He didn¡¯t even come close to caring about that. But he also knew that there was no way to just tell her it was fine. James had been there. The only solution was repeatedly showing that things were okay. It was, actually, alarmingly close to how they dealt with the new ratroaches. ¡°We can sort out the details later.¡± He said, instead of the more sympathetic words he wanted to say. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. I promise. But right now, questions.¡± ¡°Ask.¡± ¡°Okay. In no particular order; why were the two of you there, why is Lloyd operating in - sorry, why is the Last Line Of Defense - operating in New York, what do you know if anything about the bugs we have outside, did your sister have a loot drop and what do you plan to do with it, is the Last Line going to come after us in a way we need to prepare for, and then just in general is there anything I need to know before it bites me in the ass?¡± Camille stared at him, and then back at her sister¡¯s corpse. She raised a gauntleted hand to pluck something out of a leather pouch at her side. A small burning white ember, flames licking up the sides of her fingers without heat. ¡°Her power, I take your meaning.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James eyed the prize briefly, but didn¡¯t linger on it. ¡°By our own laws, we will respect her wishes if she had them, and they aren¡¯t harmful. Giving it back to Lloyd counts as harmful. If she didn¡¯t have anything she wanted done with it, then¡­ well, I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve ever really had surviving next of kin. So maybe it¡¯s your call. Either that or we can keep her with the rest until we find out if we can return them.¡± ¡°No.¡± Camille spoke suddenly, the word snapped out, eyes open in alarm. ¡°Please, no.¡± Her voice cracked, ever so slightly. ¡°She should not be returned. I don¡¯t want it. No one should. Take it, do what you will. But do not bring her back.¡± She thrust the ember out to James, who nearly dropped it before Zhu¡¯s feathered hand snagged it and pulled it close to examine with his eye. ¡°Okay.¡± James said softly. ¡°We¡¯ll let her rest.¡± Camille nodded, mollified. ¡°For the rest of the interrogation, I have only some answers.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not¡­¡± ¡°My father is in this city to combat the actions of the Chain Breaker, and the Right Person At The Right Moment. Both of them have been working toward destabilization, and my sisters and I were dispatched to track down and stop their various plots. You ask if my father will seek me out, and the answer is no. The projected casualty rate was over eighty percent, due to the interference of the Long Arm Of The Law, and the Hitsuy¨­ Aku.¡± She paused to think, then continued as if she was just putting her own pieces of the puzzle together. While she did that, James filed away the new proper noun for later. ¡°I have been¡­ I have been failing in my duties for months.¡± She admitted. ¡°I devoted small parts of my power to finding you, or your people where possible. Looking for an opening. Today, many of my sisters were diverted to intercept Chain Breaker attacks, and I saw my chance. I did not¡­ I didn¡¯t think that she would¡­ I¡­¡± Camille stared down at the corpse of her sister, the tears slowly reemerging in her eyes. ¡°It was never supposed to be this way.¡± She said. ¡°Even if she was expendable.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± James said softly. ¡°I really am.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure why, since Camille had such a viscerally negative reaction to the idea of bringing her sister back, even if it was only a slim possibility in the far future. But he understood pain and guilt plentifully. ¡°What about the bugs?¡± Her stoic facade returned. ¡°I know nothing of them. They seem to be outsiders. Monsters. If you need assistance, I will need a weapon.¡± ¡°No!¡± James spoke a little too sharply, getting another minute flinch from the woman that could probably crush his skull with her bare hands. ¡°No. Please, understand. If you want to come with us, you¡¯re going to be living alongside a lot of outsiders. Right now, though, I need to know what their needs and thoughts are like, so we can work on communication.¡± Camille stared at him blankly, until Zhu chimed in. ¡°Because we like people who are different!¡± The navigator clarified. ¡°Which is why you are here. Sooooo¡­¡± ¡°Zhu, be nice.¡± James murmured, tapping at his feathered arm. ¡°She¡¯s having a hard day.¡± ¡°No, your companion is correct.¡± Camille countermanded him. ¡°My sister sent me to you for a reason. I will trust her. And¡­ I will try.¡± She clenched her hand into a fist, metal plates rasping against each other. ¡°I am nearly exhausted, but I could search for something fortuitous for you, or something that will be a risk. It is up to you.¡± James grinned. ¡°Give me a little luck.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ll handle the risks.¡± The woman nodded once, then closed her eyes. ¡°You liberated prisoners. There is something about them that will help.¡± She said simply. ¡°That is all I can find. I¡­¡± She slumped, shoulders drooping. ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°Sit. Rest. Do you need water or a snack?¡± James asked her, motioning Bill over from where he was using Mountain magic to effectively seal one of the many gaps in the shed walls. The man was putting in a lot of work for a temporary morgue, and it occurred to James that a lot of the people here were probably scrambling to find ways to be useful in an event that¡­ there wasn¡¯t a lot they could do about. ¡°Just ask Bill if you need anything.¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am.¡± Bill nodded at her, still breathing heavily and colder than the rest of the chilled interior. James gave him a confident tap on the shoulder as he walked past, slipping out the shed and pulling a telepad from his pocket. He had one more thing to check. _____ The Lair¡¯s medical facility had gotten a lot more use than James had ever expected - or hoped - that it would. Between the Underburbs quarantine, the number of knights or responders who took injuries on operations or delves, the number of people just around the lair who got hurt in their daily lives or by drinking new potions that they shouldn¡¯t have, and also Deb having sourced supplies of common vaccines to distribute to anyone who needed them - mostly ratroaches and camracondas - the place saw almost constant use. Deb herself didn¡¯t run the place anymore. Karen had come through finding someone to deal with operations and management, which had freed up Deb and her staff to streamline their own day to day jobs. And she¡¯d used that new freed up time to double down on expanding her magical knowledge. Yellow orbs, mem files, applied use of totems and grown programs, skulljack research, medical and biological testing on new species, potions. Deb had always wanted to be a doctor, but had settled for the more affordable career path of being a nurse instead. Now, though? Faced with a dozen ways to rapidly expand her knowledge base, and a dozen more things to use that knowledge on, she was finding an experience much like James did when it came to skipping the boring part of a new hobby. Deb was smart. And if she¡¯d wanted to do anything else aside from heal people, you could have called her worryingly smart. When James walked into the space, Deb was in the middle of rapidly moving from performing surgery to remove a bullet, to getting fast updates on the status of other triaged knights. She was also, at the moment, both smart, and irate. ¡°You nearly killed my girlfriend again.¡± She fired off at James as he entered. Though this time, there wasn¡¯t quite the same level of actual anger as previously. ¡°To be fair, I think Sunny can take more shots than I can, and also she was on evac duty and not even getting shot at.¡± James defended himself. Then, in a softer voice ¡°But also¡­ is she doing okay?¡± ¡°Rattled, but not bad. Camracondas¡­ well, the older ones¡­ they don¡¯t fear death the way they should. It¡¯s not healthy.¡± Deb¡¯s words seemed backward to James. He said as much to her with a curious quirk of his brow. ¡°You sure? I¡¯d like to not fear death.¡± ¡°You¡¯d get eaten by a dragon within the day if that were true. Now, I¡¯m busy. What are you here for?¡± Deb cut to the chase. James decided to drop the banter and respect her time, especially when his friends and companions might still need to be put back together. ¡°I need to see the prisoners we brought back. Preferably any that can talk?¡± Deb nodded. ¡°Most of them are waiting on infomorph surgery. Mercy needs to rest, and I¡¯ll be asking for more help on this front, so be prepared for that. Two of them are half-awake, two of them are resting after having their parasites removed.¡± Frantically waving his hands between them, James stopped her with a horrified expression. ¡°Woah, woah woah woah, what?¡± ¡°Hm? Oh. The SQ captives were all infected with a strange form of inert infomorph. Not even alive, more like the mental equivalent of a brick wall, according to Mercy. She needs physical brain help to even break through, so we¡¯re getting the knights who need to rest anyway to work with her.¡± Deb explained quickly, as a short Hispanic woman slipped up next to her and muttered in her ear. ¡°I need to get back to it. Room twenty three and four for the ones who you can talk to right now.¡± Deb pointed down the hallway that was longer than it should be. ¡°Also if you have a way to remove these things, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡± ¡°Call Ben.¡± James said. ¡°Actually,¡± he turned to the aid behind the nurse¡¯s station desk who was keeping up with the paperwork, ¡°you call Ben, because Deb is gonna glare me to death if I try to give her more work right now, and she¡¯s right to do it. He might have something, but don¡¯t count on it.¡± Deb gave the man a quick nod, and pointed to the list of reference phone numbers pinned to the raised back of the desk for him. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ve got to ask some questions pretty quick. Thanks, and¡­ well, thanks.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll catch up later.¡± Deb promised him. ¡°Honestly, this isn¡¯t that bad. We¡¯re doing better, and no one died or is gonna die. So, good job. Making my job easier.¡± She paused as she waked away, yelling over her shoulder, ¡°And all the magic helps too!¡± James headed down the hospital¡¯s sterile hallway, passing more than one room containing a wounded knight or recovering ratroach, until he got to where Deb had pointed him. He knocked, and didn¡¯t politely wait before pushing the door open, which he maybe should have as he heard a yelp on the other side. ¡°Rude.¡± Zhu was already prodding at him as he walked in. ¡°It¡¯s like you¡¯ve never worked in health care before.¡± ¡°You were cuter when you didn¡¯t sass me.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°No.¡± James focused on the person lying in the hospital bed staring at him, and then on the wounded calico cat sitting on one of the guest chairs. The human was barely out of their teens, if at all; a frazzled black bob cut of hair, over a rounded face that James was pretty sure showed off Chinese ancestry, but he didn¡¯t actually want to start guessing given his limited real world knowledge. Nor did he, in truth, care. The cat was a cat, though it was staring at him with wide intelligent eyes and one of its legs had a bloody ragged hole through it. A large bloodied bandage pooled on the chair next to the feline. ¡°Hi. I¡¯m James.¡± He spoke softly to the girl in the bed. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m¡­ Mary.¡± She said, lying to James face. ¡°This is my¡­ cat¡­ Opal.¡± James paused, standing at the foot of the bed, and pressed the tips of his fingers together in front of his mouth. Trying desperately to keep his face steady. Behind him, Zhu¡¯s tail flicked rapidly in excited glee as he did no such thing. ¡°This is perfect.¡± The infomorph¡¯s voice was like tires on smooth pavement. ¡°This makes it all worth it. Is this what the end of a journey is like for you?¡± He asked James. ¡°Oh, I can feel how smug you are, it¡¯s practically lewd.¡± Clearing his throat, James opened his mouth, then closed it again before he figured out how he wanted to approach this. ¡°Alright.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Good attempt. I see what you¡¯re going for, and I think you¡¯re on the right track. Don¡¯t give information to random people who may have kidnapped you. A plus.¡± He shot the confused girl a thumbs up, while the cat, who already saw where this was going, was rubbing a paw on their scrunched up face in frustration. James nodded to the cat. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing. I dunno if you¡¯re trying to Keyser Soze me or not, but in general, it¡¯s not a good idea to have fake names be secret cute references. Now, you had no way of knowing, but I¡¯ve already met Ruby - hi Ruby - so the matching name just looks very¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Deeply hilarious!¡± Zhu chimed in. James wanted to contradict him, but it was hard to figure out how, so he just shrugged and pointed at the infomorph in agreement. ¡°Also hello Ruby. Should we call a nurse back for the bandaging?¡± ¡°The staff don¡¯t know he¡¯s here.¡± James said with another sigh. ¡°That¡¯s a makeshift dressing, he snuck in. Somehow. And for some reason. So yeah, Zhu, go get a nurse or something. Or a vet. Is Liz here? Ruby are you a cat normally? We have a veterinarian.¡± Zhu bristled his feathers like he was preparing to spring before James had finished, and was off down the hallway in a spear of orange light without waiting for an answer. The cat that had been an FBI agent a couple hours ago made a very human paw motion at James, that it took both of them a moment to figure out was a middle finger that didn¡¯t work. ¡°I can¡¯t change for a while, and you made me panic. Asshole.¡± ¡°You know him?¡± The girl sagged back, letting the tension out. ¡°I mean, no. He helped us get you out, but he could still be an asshole.¡± Ruby¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t even remotely catlike, and James felt a pang of unexpected disappointment. He repressed the urge to ask Ruby to meow. ¡°I try not to be. And you¡¯re not a prisoner. But I¡¯m kind of working on an unknown clock here, so do you mind if I ask some quick questions?¡± The girl who¡¯s name wasn¡¯t Mary looked at the cat, who gave her a somehow grudging nod, before she turned back to James. ¡°Okay.¡± Her voice was tired, but less scared now, which he took as a win. ¡°Okay. The bugs. What¡¯s up with that?¡± ¡°I¡­ the what? There weren¡¯t¡­ do you mean spiders?¡± The girl looked confused. James gave an irate huff, though not aimed at her. ¡°Damn. Okay. How about being taken prisoner? Anything you can tell me in general? I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re delvers.¡± ¡°I¡­ we¡­ yeah.¡± Her head dropped to her chest, and she stared at the white blanket draped over her form. ¡°I guess so. We were. I don¡¯t think I want to¡­¡± she stopped talking, biting her lip to hold back tears. ¡°They killed¡­¡± she stopped entirely, and James just let her have a moment, looking away. He couldn¡¯t leave yet, but he didn¡¯t have any grounds to comfort this person. Shortly, though, she wiped her eyes, and sniffed. ¡°Sorry, I just¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t apologize.¡± James¡¯ voice was rough, but not unkind. ¡°I know. I¡¯ve lost people too. Never anyone that close to me though. Not that I remember anyway.¡± She sniffed again, wiping her nose on the bedsheet, before taking a steadying breath. ¡°They were¡­ the men who captured us, before they rushed us to a cell, they were asking questions. They wanted to know what we could do, how much¡­ they called it something stupid, but how much magic we had.¡± She stared at James, like she was waiting for him to ask the same questions, but he didn¡¯t. ¡°Before they stopped, two of them were betting how many steps we¡¯d be worth. Were they¡­ were they going to kill us?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± James said, stepping aside as a woman who was as short as she was scowling strode into the room, her scrubs identifying her role here. He just pointed at the cat still sitting on the chair and got an irate huff as she pulled a cart with stitches on it in after her. ¡°But you¡¯re safe now. And you can leave whenever you want, if you want. But also maybe don¡¯t, until Deb clears you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡± Ruby said, getting a jump from the doctor, who intensified her scowl at him and switched from trying to make cautious and soothing movements to simply verbally demanding he hold his paw out. James didn¡¯t say goodbye, just slipped out and to the next room. ¡°Christ¡¯s sake, Prince.¡± He said immediately on entering and seeing a golden retriever hiding in the corner with a gaping chest wound. ¡°Zhu?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± The navigator fluttered in a sigh before zipping away again. The questions with the young man in this bed didn¡¯t exactly go smoother, but they did go faster. He had mostly the same information for James; they were being evaluated, and there was something about how much they were ¡®worth¡¯ as a resource. From what he vividly remembered of the last Status Quo, their idea of ¡°Human Resources¡± was literal and disgusting. But the prison complex hadn¡¯t been an abattoir, and the prisoners, while clearly under negative influence, weren¡¯t being drained or bled or sacrificed. At least, not obviously. James was much more concerned about that treatment being applied to the bugs themselves. He tried to check on one of the other prisoners who had undergone the extraction of the hostile infomorph that was keeping them placid, but the man was asleep. The next guy was awake, but still recovering, and could only barely answer James. Though he was clearly frantically forcing himself to try through the residual mental fog. He¡¯d been there for what felt like almost a year, and while he had no real clear impression of the passing of time, he knew that the Status Quo staff had regularly run the elevator. The sound, he said, meant that the people he could see through the bars would change. Different prisoners, people shuffled around or removed. Probably about once a month. _____ The pieces came together, and James didn¡¯t really like it. In the bigger picture, there was the Chain Breaker. A myriad of small operations and attacks around a major city, from her and her allies and hired goons. A distraction tactic. For this? For the bugs? Was her intent to wipe them out, and if so, why this roundabout way of doing things? She wasn¡¯t trying to hurt Status Quo, obviously. Or at least, not beyond simply removing an asset. The bugs were clearly an asset. So was the building she¡¯d been fine destroying. And ¡®civilian casualties¡¯ weren¡¯t on her list of things to be concerned about, either. So what did she want? Maybe this was a distraction, too. Maybe the Order had just been the outside context problem this time; a weird quirk that interrupted more than one plan at a time. Maybe there¡¯d been some other thing the Chain Breaker was late for. Some kind of uncontrolled demolition she¡¯d needed to run off to oversee that kept her from killing the rest of them, or the Last Line Of Defense encroaching on a city block that she wouldn¡¯t stand for. But there was another, deeply cynical part of James¡¯ thoughts, that had an idea he didn¡¯t like at all. That this had been her plan. That the Order of Endless Rooms was an accounted for variable in the web of nonsense. That forcing their hand with an exploding building and a pack of spiky shelled refugees, inciting a mass teleport and a large scale rescue to parts unknown, was what she wanted. She could have just killed him. And Daniel, and TQ, and everyone else. But she didn¡¯t. She let him go. Let him run, and take her goal with her. James wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that. He would have preferred if she¡¯d just asked nicely. He would have saved the bugs anyway. Saved them from Status Quo. Which was the second, more relevant part of this. Because they had to take care of them now, somehow, and James was also starting to see what had been happening. Population charts. High monthly death rates. Agents with uniform power sets. Skittish bugs that had never been outside and had clutches of eggs. Prisoners that were evaluated by their levels; even if they didn¡¯t call them levels, James defaulted to the term. Status Quo - either Status Quo - didn¡¯t kill delvers they kidnapped; they used them. They found ways to convert people to the powers they wanted. You could kill a delver and take their magic, as far as he knew. But that wasn¡¯t the way you got a standardized set of powers that you could pass out to your employees and train a group on. He knew that the hard way. The Order tried to have builds, but it was actually pretty hard to do with just one copier. But if you killed a dungeon creation, you tended to get consistent rewards. Camille knew they were dungeon life. And James believed her. In the Office, and the Sewers, at least, dungeon life could kill, and reap some part of the rewards for themselves. ¡°Ah, fuck.¡± He whispered, leaning on the wall next to the enlarged doors to the hospital. ¡°I wanted it to be anything else.¡± Zhu wrapped his tail around James¡¯ legs, silently offering comfort. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go.¡± James said as he broke the quick embrace, and pulled out what was left of his telepad. ¡°I have one more question for someone.¡± _____ The interrogation of their Status Quo prisoner wasn¡¯t happening currently. Instead, she sat reading an old paperback book someone had brought her, looking bored out of her mind. James didn¡¯t have much respect for her time or feelings at the moment. He practically kicked the door open and only took a few steps into the room, not bothering to sit. ¡°Do you get the notification when you kill them, or when you hit the threshold to level up?¡± He demanded. The woman, whose shirt was still soaked in her own blood even if the wound had sealed up, tipped the book down slightly and gave James a cruel grin. The cold glint in her eyes much more apparent now as she stopped hiding, having decided that there wasn¡¯t much point anymore. ¡°Each of them.¡± She said. ¡°Why, haven¡¯t tried it yourself yet? I can give you some pointers on indirect traps if you squeamish about-¡° ¡°Lock her down.¡± James snapped at the camraconda knight, who froze the Status Quo trooper mid word. ¡°Double the guard on this room.¡± He said to the Order security team as he stalked out. Everyone got out of his way as he stomped out to the field where the hundreds of refugees were still waiting for¡­ for anything, James supposed. He didn¡¯t know. The Order had started getting food and water set up, and from the way they were eating, it was clear the creatures had been on something approaching a starvation diet. Either that or they thought this was a last meal. Alanna was chatting to Arrush, the two of them covering an arc of open dirt and weeds as James approached. They weren¡¯t specifically who he was looking for; just the first two people he encountered. ¡°Yo!¡± Alanna greeted him, looking more relaxed. ¡°Good news! The¡­ holy shit, what¡¯s¡­¡± James tried to force himself to relax as his girlfriend¡¯s empathy caught the white hot rage that was threatening to turn his insides to cinders. Metaphorically. Probably. ¡°Tell me the good news first.¡± ¡°[Move Person] doesn¡¯t work on cats.¡± ¡°Okay?¡± James was caught off guard enough that he lost some of the anger. ¡°Why does - oh, because it worked on them.¡± He nodded, and instantly felt the fury come back even stronger, the taste of bile in the back of his throat. ¡°So as far as the Office cares at least, they¡¯re people. Great.¡± ¡°¡­so¡­ that¡¯s good.¡± Arrush said slowly. ¡°You did good. Right?¡± James looked past them, to the repurposed pumpkin patch and the confused and scared clusters of shells that moved with a kind of bobbing wiggle as the creatures danced about and tested the dirt and plants and sometimes approached the Order on the edges cautiously for something to eat. He didn¡¯t know what to do. But that was okay. He didn¡¯t have to. There were dozens of his friends and allies here to help. And he was pretty sure Nate had been preparing to fight off a siege ever since the first Status Quo attack. ¡°They know.¡± He said. ¡°What?¡± Alanna snapped her posture up, eyes narrowing. ¡°Status Quo. They get kill notifications, including for indirect deaths. They know the bugs aren¡¯t dead.¡± James told her. ¡°I need to let people know.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Alanna said, one hand patting her chest like she was just realizing she didn¡¯t have armor on. ¡°Me too. Arrush¡­¡± The ratroach nodded. ¡°Go. I will keep watching.¡± He looked at James with wet eyes. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Why? All I ever do is bring bad news.¡± ¡°You could have done nothing. You never do.¡± Arrush said. ¡°So thank you. Now go. And this time I will be with you for it.¡± He cracked a glowing fanged smile, and stumbled as Alanna laughed and patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Ow.¡± Arrush muttered as she ran off, before turning back to James. ¡°Go?¡± James swallowed, and smiled back tightly. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said. ¡°Okay.¡± He took off at a jog, looking for Nate and JP. And shortly, around the field, the Order¡¯s activities shifted to something with a much more deliberate purpose, and a much higher sense of stakes. They couldn¡¯t know how long it would take for retaliation to come, but this time, James refused to let the Order be caught off guard. Chapter 247 ¡°For myself, I want no advantage over my fellow man and if he is weaker than I, all the more is it my duty to help him.¡± -Eugene V. Dobs- _____ Status Quo didn¡¯t come after them right away. Which was both a relief, and a mounting sense of tension. Like the Star Trek reactor noise, each passing hour felt like an escalation toward an ultimate confrontation, but in reality, brought them no closer to a showdown. At least, as far as anyone knew. There were a few things the Order needed to do. Secure the bugs, secure the area they¡¯d teleported to, prepare for a counterattack, and¡­ James felt like the list should be longer. Especially since the last two things were basically the same thing in two different ways. If he¡¯d thought the Order had been busy in the area to start with, with dozens of people moving around the old farm, then now it was teeming, though with somehow fewer overall people there. All the kids and non-essentials were being teleported out. Nate had quickly given up on the idea of setting up a standard defensive perimeter when it became clear that they had no idea if Status Quo could teleport themselves. The current defenses involved every one of the security force that the Order had been training, as well as any fresh knight who hadn¡¯t been involved in the fight earlier in the day. All of them were spread out in a ring around the area, hidden through the lines of trees and around a few of the buildings, with lines of sight both out and in to the area. If Status Quo teleported in, the Order had people in position to start trying to pick them off at long range. If they approached from a distance with mundane means, then they would have some time to reorient everyone to meet the intruders, while the spotters fell back. The biggest problem was they¡¯d have to do all of that with the bugs still around. Because talking to them was turning out to be challenging. It came as no surprise that there wasn¡¯t a yellow orb for the native language of the Eastern American Imprisoned Six Legged Shelled Thing. But after James had made the joke, he started to realize that they didn¡¯t actually have a lot of options when it came to language. He could speak more languages than he ever imagined being able to, but all of that was on the back of yellow orbs. Their other magics just weren¡¯t geared for it. None of the red totems Momo had on file were useful for it, though the one that showed you how many enemies were in the building might be good for trust exercises. If Momo had any others up her bathrobe sleeve, it would have to wait until she wasn¡¯t sedated in the Order¡¯s hospital. None of the spells they had were translation effects. In theory they could maybe make an infomorph who was shared among some of them and some of the creatures, but infomorphs took a while to grow up and starting with that felt¡­ wrong. A few of the people from Research had already started the process of using the emerald circuits to grow a program specifically to model the language, or at least methods of communication, of the bugs. But those also took time, and also¡­ James hadn¡¯t heard any of them speak. He was pretty sure they could. Their faces weren¡¯t actually insectile, and they had mouths and tongues. But they didn¡¯t speak, even to each other. They didn¡¯t make any sounds. They even seemed to be moving slower than they could, just so they could creep along silently. Maybe he was projecting, but James had too many personal experiences and also personal stories from friends about staying quiet so as not to annoy authority figures who happened to be angry and lashing out. And when he realized that might be what was happening here, his anger came back all over again. In the end, there was only one tool they had for communication, and it wasn¡¯t a very safe one. But a mixed group from the Order moved out into the space all the bugs were nervously exploring to try to figure out how to ask consent to give one of them a skulljack. When challenged on who, exactly, would be stupid enough to plug their brain into an unknown and possibly panicking member of a new species that might not even have a normal language, James had just laughed. To him, the answer was obvious. _____ There was an alarming amount of waiting to be done. James had waited for a lot of things in his life. Waited out high school, waited out an annoying roommate, waited out the delivery for countless orders off Amazon. It was only when he started delving that he had to start waiting for things to come kill him. It was novel, and almost exciting, except it was also deeply boring at the same time. Which really meant it was just stressful and he felt like he¡¯d take literally anything as a distraction. The distraction came in the form of a question from one of the newly arrived people taking over from everyone who had fewer defensive magics in their bodies. Well, one or two of them, James hadn¡¯t actually had a lot of time to talk to Marlea, the Order¡¯s resident actual hive mind. James liked the skulljacks, he liked sometimes sharing a single mind with his partners, he liked the tactical edge that the Order had when they used them for silent communications, he liked how cool they were. He wasn¡¯t sure he could ever do what Marlea did. But he still thought it was cool. ¡°I¡¯ve got a question, if you¡¯re not busy.¡± The question from one of her bodies came while James was sitting on a stump by the farmhouse, waiting for his own skulljack adventures in first contact, assuming they could manage to find a bug to agree to it. James looked up at the blonde half of Marlea¡¯s hive mind. ¡°Sure. If I can ask one first.¡± ¡°¡­Yeah, alright.¡± She hesitated, in a way that felt a little uncanny, before agreeing. ¡°Okay, I actually have about eight hundred questions for you, but the one that¡¯s on my mind right now is, how do you pick which body to use when talking to people? You don¡¯t do what Anesh does and use both, so you must have a process. Is it just back and forth?¡± He leaned forward curiously. ¡°Do you pick based on how you¡¯re feeling? Do you have a favorite?¡± ¡°That¡¯s way more than one question.¡± The brunette side of Marlea said, background commentary as the one closer to James jerked a thumb over her shoulder. ¡°Sometimes I have reasons, most of the time I don¡¯t care, but I like being able to do that.¡± James bit back a grin. ¡°What, be sarcastic while still getting through a conversation normally?¡± ¡°Yup! It¡¯s the best.¡± One of her bodies nodded at him. ¡°So, my question?¡± ¡°Go for it.¡± James idly invited her to continue as he watched El pop into existence in the remains of the gravel parking lot along with an irate looking pair of paper drakes and their handlers. ¡°Is it about hive mind things?¡± She shook her head, one of her bodies rolling her eyes at him. ¡°People are way too worried about this shit, man. You¡¯ll get it eventually, it¡¯s fine. Read my essays. Nah, I wanted to ask if it¡¯s ethical to date an infomorph.¡± James rubbed his fingertips over his mouth, trying to conceal the reflexive grimace he had. ¡°I am the wrong person to ask about this.¡± He said simply, glad that Zhu seemed to be actually asleep at the moment. ¡°I¡¯m not the most wrong person to ask about this, but I¡¯m not unbiased.¡± ¡°No one¡¯s unbiased, who cares.¡± Marlea scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m not asking if you¡¯d do it, I¡¯m asking for your opinion on if it¡¯s okay.¡± He took a breath, biting at his lip as he thought. ¡°Okay.¡± James said, shifting on the old stump to be slightly more comfortable. ¡°So. Infomorphs are all kinda different. And we don¡¯t really know much about them, or their development.¡± He waved off the look that told him to cut to the answer, and kept monologuing. ¡°Authorities? No. Don¡¯t date them. Assuming you can even manage to get a conversation out of one, which would be a first. Assignments and navigators are iffier, because at a certain point, they start displaying personhood, beyond just problem solving intelligence, and so they can in theory offer consent. Buuuuut¡­¡± James shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s a fundamental irreconcilable power dynamic at play when one party literally relies on the other to survive, and in the other direction, can sometimes change the mind of the host without asking. Informed consent in a situation like that is next to impossible, unless there¡¯s some kind of larger social dynamic at play. Like the infomorph having multiple places to live, or better yet, not actually living in the biomorph they¡¯re dating. And an infomorph community that enforces trust through keeping an eye on things helps too, which we sort of have.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve put a lot more thought into this than I expected.¡± Marlea admitted. ¡°Oh, yeah, absolutely.¡± James nodded. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m halfway to breaking every rule I just said, because life is messy and shit. So I¡¯ve decided to be acutely aware of all the problems I¡¯m causing.¡± One of Marlea¡¯s bodies laughed while the other spoke. ¡°And I thought there were problems inviting people to join me. You¡¯re way worse at this, huh?¡± ¡°It gets worse when you consider that a lot of infomorphs are, chronologically, kids.¡± James gleefully made the situation into an ethical morass. ¡°I don¡¯t think any of them are older than a few years, except maybe Pathfinder. She¡¯s actually a deeply unique case though, because she seemed to be mostly alive before being incepted into someone on our end. It¡¯s weird. But like, they copy and iterate on their hosts so fast, that it¡¯s almost impossible to track personality development in clean stages like humans tend to have. Or maybe it is, but we don¡¯t have the numbers to do it yet.¡± ¡°It would be cool to have more infomorphs around.¡± Marlea said. ¡°They¡¯ve got a lot of crazy magic going on.¡± ¡°Eh. Sorta.¡± James shrugged. ¡°They can do some specific stuff, it¡¯s not as broad as a lot of people think. It¡¯s like saying that humans can do a lot of visual art because we have hands. Technically correct, but deeply misleading.¡± Marlea nodded, ¡°So, how old should one be?¡± ¡°No idea. That¡¯s the thing.¡± James sighed. ¡°The only thing that honestly matters is if they can give informed consent. But what is that? We say humans have to be eighteen, in most places, for¡­ well, a variety of reasons, but the number works statistically. But we don¡¯t have infomorph statistics on rates of regret or cases of abuse. We have maybe twenty of them. We have better statistical sampling for ratroaches.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have a great answer for you.¡± ¡°Well shit.¡± Marlea grumbled as both her bodies scowled. James was struck with a sudden new question. ¡°Uh¡­ who were you going to date? Or are, depending.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not even close to friends enough for me to tell you that.¡± Marlea informed him bluntly. James noted she used her rear rank body to tell him, and wondered if she had one face for good news and one face for hot takes. He wasn¡¯t bothered though. James was comfortable not being friends with every single person in the Order. He didn¡¯t need that; he just needed everyone to know they could trust him, rely on him, and, like Marlea, come to him with weird questions when they had them. It was one of the things he was good at, it was literally part of his job now. Still, he wanted to get at least one good bit of snark in. ¡°Is it Planner?¡± He asked. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be Planner.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not¡­¡± one of her voices overlapped the other one, ¡°No, wait, not sharing!¡± Marlea turned to leave with one last eye roll. ¡°Thanks for the heads up at least.¡± She said. ¡°Yeah, no problem. Also, you know anything about when I¡¯m up?¡± James turned his gaze toward the distant grassy field. Marlea gave him a thin smile. ¡°I¡¯ll ask around.¡± _____ Two Anesh sat down on either side of James. He¡¯d migrated to some of the camp chairs the Order had brought when they weren¡¯t sure how long they¡¯d need to be here, and was finding the experience a lot more pleasant for his ass than a roughly chopped piece of wood. His boyfriend had found him, though, and while the area was supposed to be clear of nonessential noncombatants, that had done nothing to stop Anesh from showing up anyway. ¡°You,¡± Anesh started, both of him talking at once, ¡°are bloody impossible.¡± ¡°Ooh, we¡¯re back to Britishisms!¡± James perked up, the sass from his partner helping to chase away the sleepy fatigue that had rushed in after he¡¯d made the mistake of eating a protein bar while he was waiting. ¡°Say more sexy English accent things at me.¡± Anesh faltered, blushing instantly, but keeping up his assault. ¡°I got a single text message from you, you¡­ you¡­¡± ¡°Wanker?¡± James was full on beaming at him now. Anesh sputtered. ¡°No!¡± He snapped back. ¡°One text! One message that you were going to bl- to fucking war, James!¡± James smile slipped, and then vanished, as he turned to stare at the stamped dirt in front of the canvas chair he¡¯d swiped. ¡°I know.¡± He said. ¡°And I¡¯m sorry. Of course I¡¯m sorry, but I also know that¡­¡± There was a stretch of silence. The kind of anxious silence James remembered of waiting to be called into the principle¡¯s office, or when your boss said they needed to talk to you after your shift. Shitty, awful, silence. And then, ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh said plainly. ¡°Okay?¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh was looking in two directions, both of them away from James. ¡°I accept the apology.¡± ¡°Just like¡­?¡± Anesh set a hand on each of James¡¯ shoulders, and got a wince from his boyfriend as one of them pressed on a bruise. ¡°Don¡¯t talk me out of it.¡± Anesh said. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t like it, I hate the feeling and the waiting to hear that you¡¯re dead or hurt again. But we¡¯re doing something stupid and dangerous and that means this is going to happen. And I think I¡¯d rather keep being with you than breaking up over it.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Maybe more than a text next time though.¡± ¡°I could record a bunch of messages to be sent in the event of my death?¡± James offered. ¡°Then I could flirt with you from the beyond!¡± ¡°You¡¯re way too cheerful about that.¡± Anesh winced. James shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m trying to mask my internal horror with flippancy.¡± He said smoothly. ¡°Anyway. Why are you here? Just to tell me I¡¯m a bad boyfriend? Cause, like, actually, I am sorry. At least one of you was probably awake enough that I could have called.¡± ¡°Alanna called!¡± Anesh told him with a short laugh. ¡°She¡­ is she doing okay?¡± That was a hell of a question for today of all days. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know.¡± James answered. ¡°She¡¯s taking on a lot, and I think she¡¯s starting to get annoyed at feeling powerless. Like, when we¡¯re in a fight, she outclasses almost anything we come up against. But then we come back to reality, and she tries to look into reforming a single small facet of the bigger system, and it feels like headbutting a concrete wall.¡± Anesh thought for a second. ¡°That¡¯d probably be easier for her.¡± ¡°Because she¡¯s stubborn?¡± ¡°Because I think if she had to do it, she¡¯d just knock back a pint of shaper substance and grow drill horns.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± James rolled the idea around his head. ¡°That could be hot, sure.¡± ¡°Is that how you judge major body transformations?¡± One Anesh said after both of them wheezed out surprised laughter. James was affronted. ¡°Obviously.¡± He said. ¡°Have you met me? Carnally, I mean.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yeah, so you should know!¡± ¡°We¡¯d need a pillow budget.¡± Anesh thought about it. ¡°Maybe some rubber caps or something so she doesn¡¯t murder us when she has nightmares.¡± He rubbed at his chin. ¡°We should have a pillow budget anyway.¡± James replied, tapping his fingers idly. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough for our bed.¡± ¡°We need a bigger bed.¡± Anesh countered. ¡°Which¡­ I suppose would mean more pillows. Actually, okay, help me out here. Alanna is dating Sarah now.¡± ¡°Yes, it¡¯s adorable.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± The two boyfriends gave professional nods to each other as they came to a consensus. ¡°But how does that¡­ change our sleeping arrangements?¡± James shrugged. ¡°Not much. Sarahs¡¯ not dating us, so sometimes Alanna will sleep with her, and sometimes with us, and I¡¯m kinda fine with either. Oh, uh¡­do you feel okay with that?¡± James forgot sometimes that Anesh was even newer to all this than he was. ¡°Honestly, we should probably just have this as a whole conversation with all of us¡­¡± He looked up at nothing in particular. ¡°Wait, have we had this conversation before?¡± ¡°You get hit in the head too much.¡± Anesh sighed as he waved off the concern. ¡°I don¡¯t mind having more bed to occupy.¡± Both Anesh grinned ruthlessly as their plan for nighttime annexation progressed on schedule. ¡°I was just curious. Technically, I never have to sleep alone. But I do like being around you and Alanna, and I know you¡¯re maybe interested in some other people¡­¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± James sighed. ¡°I have no idea, man. I wanna take a year to just take one massive nap and discuss relationship ethics and have a hundred small dates with everyone I like and sort it all out. But I keep getting shot at.¡± ¡°That¡¯s your fault.¡± ¡°Mostly, yeah.¡± James conceded. ¡°Point stands, I don¡¯t know who or if I want to try things with.¡± ¡°I¡­ uh¡­¡± Anesh looked sheepish, and then went silent as a group of knights hustled by toward the farmhouse with a column of asphalt suspended between them. James raised his eyebrows as his boyfriend, waiting for him to start talking when there were no people around, but Anesh¡¯s blush just got darker and he became even quieter. ¡°You, uh?¡± He prompted. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not gonna be upset about anything. Come on, I¡¯m me.¡± Anesh shared a look between himself, and gave a reassuring nod, acting as his own help getting psyched up. ¡°I may be¡­ slightly¡­ just a little gay for Keeka.¡± Anesh said slowly. ¡°That¡¯s the cutest fucking thing I¡¯ve ever heard you say.¡± James stared at his partner with a grin, looking back and forth between the two of them. ¡°Does he know?¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t¡­ I have no idea how to even start that conversation.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve been hanging out for a little while, though. I think I like him. I just thought you should know, before anything happens.¡± ¡°That¡¯s exactly how this works, yes.¡± James nodded knowingly. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± His voice turned serious and he cut the conversation off as he saw a trio of researchers approaching. The knot of anxiety in his chest came back as he realized that this might be the time he was waiting for. The moment he had to get up, and go talk to an alien mind, and convince them that he was here to help. Hopefully before retaliation arrived. Then the researchers veered off toward another group that James didn¡¯t recognize, all of them heading across the old pumpkin patch carrying hard black cases of gear for some unknown purpose. ¡°You good mate?¡± Anesh asked slowly. ¡°I¡¯m waiting.¡± James said bitterly. ¡°And I don¡¯t like it one bit. I¡¯m waiting to try to talk to the bugs, and I¡¯m waiting for Status Quo to warp in and start shooting, and I hate it.¡± ¡°Do we know they can teleport?¡± Anesh asked, suddenly alarmed. ¡°Should I be more armed than I am?¡± At James¡¯ worried look, he expanded on that statement. ¡°I¡¯ve got [Manipulate Asphalt] and a couple spikes of the stuff in a pocket. It¡¯s not a gun, but I don¡¯t¡­ like guns.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Also blue orbs. Always handy.¡± ¡°I need to refresh my stock of those.¡± James admitted, and both Anesh instantly dug in the pockets of their shorts to offer him a fresh handful of the things. ¡°Thanks, but-¡° ¡°No.¡± Anesh said before his duplicate picked up the sentence. ¡°You take those. I¡¯m leaving soon, so unless you need to throw everything we¡¯ve got at a problem I won¡¯t be fighting. But you might. So take the things, and don¡¯t die. And I love you.¡± ¡°I¡­ I love you too.¡± James felt tiny tears forming and held against his eyes as he smiled around the words. ¡°It¡¯s such a fucking miracle you put up with Alanna and me. You¡¯re so perfect.¡± ¡°Oh, piss off.¡± Anesh stood, rustling James¡¯ hair and inadvertently getting it impossibly tangled in the skulljack briad James was wearing. ¡°Don¡¯t get yourself killed.¡± James nodded eagerly. ¡°Absolutely. I need to be around to see you keep getting gayer.¡± He was still laughing as Anesh made a rude gesture at him and stood to rapidly make his escape. _____ There was a new uncertainty for James to contend with. He didn¡¯t know what month it was. He could have checked in an instant, he had his phone on him. His brain was technically directly plugged into it, if he wanted it to be, though there wasn¡¯t a skulljack app for checking your calendar. Skulljacks were good for a lot of things, but it took a lot of practice to do them without help, which was why the Order tended to either make or grow programs for the things instead of relying on raw talent. Though to be fair, half the programs that they made were made by people who had learned how to mentally write code, which was impressive. Tools to make tools. It distracted James briefly from how damn hot it was, and how he felt like it should be July or something, but knew it wasn¡¯t. He¡¯d been down in Texas not even a couple weeks ago for a Ceaseless Stacks delve and it had been freezing, raining, and freezing raining. He didn¡¯t want to pull out his phone and find out it was still March or something. He wanted to live in suspense. For that at least, because the suspense of everything else the day had to offer was still awful. He and Zhu waved slowly at one of the new creatures that had come to the boundary of their cluster to drink. The Order had tried at first to figure out if they needed water bottles or something; the bugs had pretty dexterous claws on the ends of their legs, they would have been able to drink without much issue. But they wouldn¡¯t. Or maybe didn¡¯t know it was an option, and without language yet, it was hard to explain. The way Recover was providing them water right now was with troughs. Cleaned out, with fresh water that got refilled and purified constantly with the brooches from the other Status Quo, but still. The imagery was painful to James, who knew exactly how much like livestock these guys had been treated. The creature drinking stared at the motion from James, even though he was sitting pretty distant from the field. At the recognition that it was being watched, it slowly retracted its leathery neck, those glistening oval eyes receding back under the edge of its arced shell as it slowly backed away from the water trough. ¡°Dammit.¡± James muttered. ¡°I¡¯m the worst at diplomacy.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t true, you¡¯ve met El.¡± Zhu reminded him. A small and indignant squeak came from underneath the chair they were sitting at. About half an hour ago, El had dropped by briefly. Not so much to talk, just to leave Speaky here with James and Zhu. The two infomorphs had been darting around the Order¡¯s attempts at organizing help, playing in the equipment storage and medic tents that were emptied of people until they were sure no one was coming to kill them, before coming back the ethereal version of tired and resting with James. Which, of course, meant that Zhu wasn¡¯t just reminding James of something, he was also poking fun at his friend. And the one thing that made the little fish shaped manifestation of fins and mouths get over her shy nature was someone poking fun at her mom. ¡°You take that back!¡± Speaky¡¯s voice squeaked out, the assignment still lurking under James¡¯ chair. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Before James could process how weird it was for an infomorph based on open communication to demand something be taken back, Zhu was already answering. ¡°What? Why?! You¡¯ve met El too!¡± ¡°She¡¯s great at diplomacy! She talks to people all the time!¡± Speaky retaliated. ¡°You¡¯re bad at diplomacy!¡± ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± Zhu agreed instantly, the feathered bits he was manifesting around James testing out erratic motions as he tried to find a way to nod. ¡°I¡¯m partly James.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Okay, now hang on¡­¡± ¡°Right! So you shouldn¡¯t say mean things about people!¡± Speaky continued. ¡°Especially El, who is¡­ uh¡­ she is very¡­ passionate about communications.¡± Zhu paused, flicking an eye up to meet James¡¯ before answering slowly. ¡°That sounds as if you are trying very hard to say that she is bad at something, without being mean.¡± He said. Leaning over the side of his chair, trying not to topple the light set of hollow pipes and stretched canvas, James looked at Speaky¡¯s glowing form in a slightly askew view. ¡°You know El tried to shoot me, right?¡± He asked. ¡°This comes up a lot, and like, it didn¡¯t work. But usually that only happens when diplomacy has broken down. She didn¡¯t even ask questions, just bang.¡± ¡°I am sure she was under pressure!¡± Speaky¡¯s teal glow was muffled slightly as she spun in rapid circles in the layer of old pine needles and hard dirt, carving out a small indentation in the ground to burrow into. ¡°She is always under pressure.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying I could get shot again?¡± James inquired, pulling his head back up as all the blood rushing to it made him dizzy. ¡°Also, are you okay there? You sounded uncertain, which is a first for you, as far as I know.¡± There was a moment of silence. Well, local silence. The world was still alive around them, and the distant sounds of crows in one direction and far off cars in another, mixed with press of voices and activity from the Order members preparing the old farm for a potential fight and the hundreds of new creatures scratching at grass and trees with growing curiosity, all of it added up to a scene that wasn¡¯t ever going to be silent. But Speaky didn¡¯t talk for a while. And that was worrying. Enough so that Zhu broke off from James¡¯, forming into the directional ray of light that was all a navigator could maintain when separated from a host, and dove down under the chair to make sure she was doing alright. When Speaky did say something, it was in a way that sounded scared, and small, and very alone. But it was in the open and painfully honest way the infomorph tended to approach the world. ¡°I ruined her life.¡± Said the tiny high pitched voice. ¡°Well that¡¯s just not true.¡± James¡¯ response was instant and reflexive. ¡°Uh¡­ I assume you mean El?¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± He let himself relax, because this was the kind of thing that was easy enough to handle in his favorite way; with actual true information. ¡°Okay. No. You didn¡¯t. But, why do you think you did?¡± ¡°I was talking to some Researchers,¡± Speaky started on a tangent, which was how James preferred conversations to go, ¡°the ones working on people like me. Learning how we¡­ are? Live, grow. All sorts of things!¡± There was an excitement creeping back in, and he smiled at how the little infomorph couldn¡¯t help but be interested in stuff. ¡°And they were talking about host imprinting, and iterative idealization, and how the early growth in assignments was often defining to their whole existence.¡± A line of orange light, hitting an odd angle to bounce from under the chair to back on James¡¯ arm, resolved into a feathered frame. ¡°Speaky, are you smarter than us?¡± Zhu asked. ¡°You sound smarter than us.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t gonna say it like that, but sure.¡± James chuckled. ¡°Also, I do know a lot of this. Navigators do it too; Zhu¡¯s personality is, foundationally, ¡®me if I turned off the part of my brain that keeps me from telling people they suck¡¯. He¡¯s still someone else, and, like, I think both of your species, once they hit a certain point of growth through copying, start to develop individuality and divergent personalities real fast. But yeah, it¡¯s sorta cool.¡± He paused. ¡°Sorry, this is something that was bothering you?¡± A small teal glint on the arm of his chair called his attention to Speaky drifting up and over the canvas like some kind of deep sea slug, poking the front of her form that might or might not be a head over the edge as she crawled out of her hiding spot. ¡°Zhu is you, but how you want to be sassy. Planner is how a dozen people in Research want to be organized. Harriet is how Kirk wants to be heroic. Amelia is how Dorothy and Roland want to have not made mistakes. Moon is how Ishah wishes he was brave. Hidden is how Ava wants to be a sneaky spy. Mercy is how Deb wants to be nice to people.¡± ¡°I¡­ have not met half of these people.¡± James realized abruptly that he was falling out of touch with the kids these days. ¡°But okay, for the ones I do know, I agree, sure. Deb wishes she was nice?¡± He thought about it, and about how Deb was constantly working to improve her ability to heal, but equally constantly snapping or being under enough pressure to make her irritable. ¡°No, okay, I get that. So, how does this¡­¡± ¡°El wants to be a child.¡± Speaky¡¯s voice, always something of a squeak, was laced with pain. ¡°She wants to be a kid again. Or in the first place. She never got¡­ she had a¡­ no, this isn¡¯t my story. She can tell you if you want to ask. But that¡¯s who I am. I¡¯m El. If she was a happy kid.¡± James¡¯ heart cracked a little. He didn¡¯t know what to say to that. But Zhu did. ¡°But you¡­ are happy.¡± The infomorph asked. ¡°Happy enough that bystanders can feel it, sometimes. So what¡¯s¡­?¡± And now James knew what to say. ¡°Because if you¡¯re a kid, that makes El your mom. Shit, you even call her Mom, don¡¯t you?¡± Speaky wiggled a nod, before shrinking back. ¡°And so you¡¯re worried that you¡¯re ruining her life because you know what she wants, cause you¡¯re it, and you¡¯re pushing her in the opposite direction.¡± He sighed as Speaky squeaked out an assent. ¡°I¡¯m gonna ask a question, and I don¡¯t mean this in a judgemental way. How much of El¡¯s mind can you read?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t! I wouldn¡¯t!¡± Speaky protested almost instantly, sounding almost terrified. ¡°She would hate that. I would hate that!¡± ¡°Short tangent, Zhu, how much of my thoughts do you look in on, just out of curiosity?¡± James asked. Zhu gave a small ripple. ¡°Your active thoughts? Almost none that aren¡¯t addressed to me. Too hard to follow. You do not medicate your ADHD. Deeper ideas or memories? I browse sometimes. Especially the travel parts.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± James nodded. ¡°I think navigators have a harder time actually picking apart thoughts than assignments. But whatever. Speaky? You should talk to El.¡± ¡°I know!¡± The girl screamed out the word, even if her version of a scream was a shy and repressed noise that didn¡¯t get loud enough to travel more than a few feet from where they were all sitting. ¡°But she won¡¯t talk to me! She knows something is wrong, but won¡¯t admit to it! Momo is the same! She is terrified, all the time, of repeating some mistake she won¡¯t tell me about, and neither of them will talk to me!¡± ¡°Oh.¡± James should have expected that the communication problem in this particular situation was one directional, and that Speaky probably wouldn¡¯t be the one to fail to do the talking. ¡°Okay. Do you want help?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Do you want help?¡± He asked again. ¡°I can talk to them with you. Or we can set up a group therapy appointment for the three of you. Or I can just text both of them right now and tell them they need to listen to you the next time you¡¯re all together and we aren¡¯t in a crisis? There are options.¡± Speaky shimmered, darting back down to her hiding spot. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to¡­¡± ¡°You have also inherited both of their tendency to think they are inconveniencing people who care about them.¡± Zhu¡¯s dry tone rattled like an old motor. ¡°They do do that, yeah.¡± James smirked. ¡°Shit, especially Momo, who has decided to live in our basement.¡± He sighed. ¡°Speaky, I¡¯m gonna tell you something you might have missed, and I don¡¯t know how. El has been deeply involved in our youth group program for the last¡­ six months? Has it been that fucking long already? She spends huge chunks of her life, which I know you¡¯re along for because I¡¯ve seen you there, trying to help a bunch of kids be better, do better, learn better, grow better.¡± He took a deep breath, and paused for effect. ¡°When you were first turning into a person, yeah, I can see El desperately wanting to retreat back to something she felt like she missed. But people change, even infomorphs. Do you think El right now would flinch away from being your mom? Because I sure fucking don¡¯t.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about that.¡± Speaky countered. ¡°It¡¯s not if she¡¯d do it. She always does things she thinks she has to. It¡¯s about whether she¡¯d want to.¡± ¡°Then all you can do is ask her. And if it¡¯s really that bad, we¡¯ll sort out a solution. But I think you might be surprised.¡± James said, one hand idly running through Zhu¡¯s feathers. ¡°You¡¯re kinda special, Speaky, you know? You¡¯re one of two infomorphs I know that get to actually have a childhood. And¡­ I remember being a kid. It¡¯s not all upside. But it¡¯s something you¡¯ll never forget, and it¡¯s something unique. I think you should enjoy it.¡± ¡°I would have rather been El¡¯s desire to graffiti the Eiffel Tower.¡± Speaky petulantly squeaked out. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a kid.¡± Zhu and James exchanged a quick look. They were both thinking the same thing, but it was Zhu who said it out loud. ¡°Yeah, of course she would want that.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll grow up.¡± James answered the other half of the statement confidently. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone can avoid it forever, even ghost fish. Sorry kiddo.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a ghost!¡± Came the indignant reply. ¡°Ghosts aren¡¯t real.¡± Speaky said it with the utter confidence of a kid who knew something about the world. James and Zhu shared another look. The look of people, maybe not adults, but just anyone in general, who heard a statement like that and thought to themselves that maybe, maybe, the world that had free floating ideas shaped like fish, might not be the best place to claim that ghosts weren¡¯t real. When El came back and picked up her kid, before leaving in a real hurry, Speaky was feeling a little better. Or as least, James assumed so. For an infomorph who was honest and open so much, she sure were reserved about her own feelings. The last thing that El said, before blipping away with barely a wave goodbye, was that they were almost ready for James over at the edge of the field, and he should get his ass over there before someone had to waste time coming to fetch him. He almost had a moment of panic. But having something to do was better than just waiting around all day having awkward conversations with anyone that ran into him. _____ ¡°James.¡± Reed greeted him as he approached the small cluster of people who were standing around a pair of folding tables and a pile of gear, with another little group of the bugs hovering nervously nearby. The other two were Chevoy and Texture-Of-Barkdust, with a ratroach James didn¡¯t know the name of standing close at hand and looking just as nervous as the new creatures. ¡°And¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Zhu.¡± Zhu waved from James¡¯ arm. ¡°I am here for moral support! And tactical support. And whatever else. I¡¯m flexible.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°Okay. Sit here, Chevoy has some stuff she wants to check real quick.¡± James groaned at the prospect of more waiting, but sat where directed anyway. ¡°So, they agreed to it?¡± He asked quietly, cutting to the chase. ¡°We believe so.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust answered him. It was weird to see the camraconda that James had become used to knowing as a professional snake version of Karen instead dressed in body armor and wearing a rifle mount. ¡°You were correct that our varied species may have helped put them at ease. Though I do not think I would say they understand yet.¡± She shook her heavy camera head from side to side. ¡°I am going to attempt to keep them calm. Hasoh, with me please.¡± She slithered back, the ratroach following her with a skittish eagerness. ¡°They¡¯re not gonna be okay.¡± James winced as he said it. ¡°But we¡¯ve gotta try.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Chevoy told him as she shifted a table behind his seat. ¡°Now hold still. I need to check your pins.¡± James felt an abrupt touch as she moved his hair out of the way and unplugged his skulljack braid, poking at his neck around the organic port. It was weird and made him instantly uncomfortable at how casual she was with something that was normally an intimate feeling he shared with his partners and no one else. ¡°Alright. One abnormality. Reed, double check this?¡± Her own wireless connection to one of the laptops on the table flicked open a highlighted file and a text document. James rubbed at the back of his neck, Zhu¡¯s extra limb blocking for him as Chevoy pulled back. ¡°You have to tell me what you¡¯re doing here, come on.¡± He used the serious tone that he hated, the one reserved for times when there were problems. ¡°Right.¡± Reed said. ¡°Well, since we¡¯re not using the body swapping table-¡° ¡°Under no fucking circumstances are we using the body swapping table here. Oh my god, I completely forgot about that safety nightmare waiting to happen.¡± James pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Sorry. You were explaining.¡± ¡°The body swapping table is perfectly safe.¡± Chevoy spoke from behind him. James was entirely unconvinced. She didn¡¯t even sound convinced. ¡°You¡¯re not even allowed to test it on some things. How do you know it¡¯s safe?¡± He¡¯d near instantly banned Research from using the table to mix infomorph and biomorph bodies. There wasn¡¯t any reason for a human put into an assignment¡¯s manifestation to be able to hold together without self-destructing right away, and James had no fucking desire to learn that the hard way. He knew they were slowly trying it with different volunteers, but the table that switched up which body your mind was in had as high potential for things going wrong compared to most magic items. James almost regretted stealing it from the Office. Reed tugged his fingers through his curly mess of hair. ¡°You seem¡­ on edge.¡± He shifted as James and Zhu glared at him. ¡°Right, right. Okay. Uh. So, we¡¯ve got this prototype braid module that¡¯s supposed to be a step between a full merge and the limited sharing protocol that we¡¯ve already got. Emotional impulses, possibly linguistic sharing? We haven¡¯t started tests yet on the language barrier.¡± ¡°And Chevoy is poking at my insides because¡­?¡± ¡°Because skulljacks don¡¯t all have standard pin setups, and we need to make sure this will work. Usually stuff works. But there¡¯s some edge cases. You¡¯re not one of them. Probably.¡± Reed looked up from the laptop. ¡°You can receive technical mems, right?¡± James started to nod, but felt his head held in place, so he tried to stay still and answer verbally as he was prodded. ¡°Yeah. I got the welding one recently, actually.¡± ¡°Bah.¡± Chevoy sounded irate, her normally playful tone somewhat clipped. A raised eyebrow at Reed bought James a sigh and an answer. ¡°Chevoy didn¡¯t know that we use a grown program to assist people in packaging up technical mems. She spent a little while-¡° ¡°Three weeks!¡± ¡°-spent three weeks just trying to make one that¡¯s a small amount of electrical circuit knowledge.¡± Reed explained. ¡°Can you process audio and visual from experience mems?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James answered the sudden shift back to clinical interview questions. ¡°I didn¡¯t know we had that program. I made an epee fencing mem without it too, it¡¯s really hard. Why didn¡¯t anyone tell me we had that?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t work perfectly.¡± Reed looked up from a clipboard he was reviewing. ¡°Do you have diabetes?¡± The question felt like it came out of left field. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Diabetes. Either type. Do you have it?¡± Chevoy repeated the question. ¡°The thing can cause problems.¡± ¡°You keep saying that, but I¡¯d sort of like to hear about what these problems are first?¡± Reed tipped the clipboard down to tap on the hard plastic of the folding table. ¡°Really?¡± He asked. ¡°Or would you rather get through this before someone shows up to shoot us?¡± A valid point, but James still gave the Researcher a level stare before saying ¡°No, I do not have diabetes.¡± ¡°Cancer?¡± Zhu stopped keeping quiet. ¡°Really?¡± The navigator asked dryly. ¡°Reed, come on.¡± ¡°Okay. Fine. Here.¡± Reed handed James the end of an ethernet cable that trailed to a cluster of different pieces of hardware before coming out as a single cable again. The electronics weren¡¯t as neatly put together as the ones in the braids the Order actually used day to day now; there were exposed circuits and electrical tape and other signs that this was just a thing they¡¯d been tinkering with and dragged out of the basement on short notice. ¡°From what we¡®ve seen, it should let you form a port on the other party even through the intermediate pieces.¡± He explained as James clipped it into his neck and tried to figure out how to carry the damn thing without knocking something loose. ¡°Thanks.¡± James said, and then repeated it to Zhu as the infomorph sprouted a feathered mimicry of James¡¯ own arm and hand to gather up the parts of the assembly that probably shouldn¡¯t be dragged across the ground. ¡°Welp. No reason to dawdle.¡± He stood again and turned to the nearby bugs, starting to walk toward them and the waiting Texture-Of-Barkdust with what he hoped was a calming gait. ¡°Zhu, you doing okay?¡± James asked as the ethereal orange feathers flicked against his skin. ¡°I¡¯ve never considered this before,¡± Zhu said nervously from, ¡°but I am a part of the mind you¡¯re connecting to someone else. I know I won¡¯t spread on impulse, like an assignment, but I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m worried. They¡¯re different. This is different.¡± James nodded. His instinct was to say something about how they were all different, but he realized before he opened his mouth that it might come across as dismissive. Zhu wasn¡¯t nervous because the bugs were another species, he was nervous because they were diplomatic first contact when before James had pretty much only ever dipped his mind into the thoughts of Anesh or Alanna. ¡°I understand.¡± He said. ¡°You wanna jump off in the next twenty feet? Because you can, no joke.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck off.¡± Zhu stuck at James¡¯ leg with the edge of his tail. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± The bugs started to pull back as James got closer, so he slowed to a stop. The group of them, five of six of the creatures, skirted backward on their clawed legs, forming a semicircle around where James had approached the other two Order representatives. ¡°It will be alright.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust was saying in a slow voice that was unfamiliar on her. ¡°This is James. He is here to try to speak to you. Please come closer, and let us sit.¡± She punctuated it by pulling herself into a low coil, her ratroach companion dropping down to a kneeling position next to her. ¡°Can they understand you, do you know?¡± James murmured. ¡°They cannot.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdusts replied to him in the same steady voice without looking away from the creatures that were slowly coming closer. ¡°They understand tone, I think. And I hope inference. I do not think they are stupid. See, they approach, they know we are here at least without hostile intent.¡± She slowly turned to look at James and Zhu. ¡°Sit please.¡± James followed her instructions, dropping to his knees, and then sliding his feet around to try to find a comfortable position where the dry grass and unchecked weeds that covered most of the field weren¡¯t going to be stabbing into his socks too much. ¡°Now what?¡± ¡°Now show them the connection.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust instructed. Slowly, James did so. Raising a hand to pull the clip out of his neck with a soft click, before holding out the cord for them to see, then replacing it back in his skulljack with another louder click. At a small tap from Texture-Of-Barkdust, Zhu slowly passed over the other end, an orange glowing limb extending to clip the end into one of her spare ports. The two of them sat like that briefly, neither reaching out to initiate the connection, just showing that it was safe, before the camraconda started to pull away and Zhu took back the other end of the link. They waited for what felt like hours, though in reality couldn¡¯t have been more than a few minutes. The creatures were, James realized, kinda cute when you could see them up close. Their shells definitely evoked a kind of insectile vibe, especially with how they had grooves and thin lines where they could flex slightly. And the curves and spikes on them were properly menacing. But their faces were alive and expressive, even if those expressions maybe didn¡¯t map to human normal. The splashed shades of gray and brown and green of their exposed hide distinguished them as individuals. And while the limbs that they projected from their thin bellies that were banded with something that looked halfway between hide and chitin were scary, with their unsettling symmetrical claws and their own armored spikes, those same legs were nervously toying with the grass and curiously poking at tiny flowers. And after a while, a long while, one of them also nervously shifted forward. Their flat face showing off eyes that felt far too large as they crept toward James, and the cable he was offering them. When they tried to take it from him, James let go too soon and it dropped to the dirt, getting a startled jerk backward. But he didn¡¯t say anything, just slowly picked it up again and offered his hand again. And the second time, the creature got a better grip while balancing on their remaining five legs, and tugged the cord closer to themself. It made a soft scratching as it bounced off their shell. And then a series of taps as the bug¡¯s leg bent in oddly jointed ways to try to replicate what James and Texture-Of-Barkdust had shown off. In reply, James smiled softly, and pantomimed tapping the back of his neck, then the back of Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s neck, and then¡­ then he tentatively reached out. The creature stared at him, and started to shrink back. But then, still shivering and scratching at the dirt, it seemed to make a choice, and handed James back the end of the cable. And then half-turned, presenting the side of its head, where it pushed downward and exposed more of itself from under the shell. James leaned in agonizingly slowly, acutely aware of the others watching him, and of how the spined and shelled person he was about to connect with smelled like nutmeg and cinnamon. He didn¡¯t want to fucking slip and fall in the dirt and scare them off and ruin the moment now. But he didn¡¯t. The back of his hand brushed against the material of the shell, which felt like warm rubber on the inside, and the creature¡¯s flesh painlessly reshaped itself into a skulljack as he lowered the clip to the base of its neck. There was a click. He barely had time to sit back in a barely comfortable spot in the soft dirt, before a consciousness slammed into him, and the grass trying to stab at his ankles wasn¡¯t really James¡¯ biggest problem anymore. _____ It was a feeling of utter, all encompassing, painful terror. They were going to die. Everyone they knew was going to die. Their children were going to die. They could not bring themself - themselves - to self-terminate. But every day was a forced routine, a grey despair that there was no future, no chance, no hope. Not that they even knew what hope was. There was a lacking in their minds. Concepts that were absent. Freedom, peace, family, novelty, they simply didn¡¯t exist. Yet, perhaps. They were stunted, but not crippled. They may yet be able to learn what it was to wish for tomorrow. If only the fear could be fought back. The worst part, though, was how that terror was woven into their every waking moment. It wasn¡¯t overwhelming. It wasn¡¯t debilitating. It didn¡¯t stop them from forcing down food, from trying to find fleeting comfort in physical contact or mating, from obeying basic signal commands from the handlers when it was time for more of them to vanish. No, the real nightmare was that it was just¡­ background noise. That they¡¯d been afraid for so long that they had grown numb to it. Accepted that they¡¯d be afraid for their whole life, until they were the next one collared and dragged away, right until the end they¡¯d be living in a silent haze of fear so harsh it hurt. The terror was always there, wrapped around them like a blanket, keeping them company. No thought could happen that wasn¡¯t touched by it, no action could be taken that didn¡¯t quake with it. Omnipresent, eternal, terror. If the skulljack hardware that James had been given wasn¡¯t doing it¡¯s job, he might have lost himself to it entirely. Maybe even then, if he hadn¡¯t had a slightly different, thin connection to Zhu propping him up. Instead, he felt it, really felt it, but at arms length. He could know that he was feeling someone else¡¯s world, without making it part of his own. He tried to talk over the connection, to say something that would be understood. But there was no language to match to. There wasn¡¯t anything that his words could even be translated to, the bugs didn¡¯t know how to speak. They could vocalize, but they kept almost entirely silent because of generations of knowing that vocalizing meant you got picked first. If they had ever had a language, it was long lost now. Zhu tried too, asking questions in atlas form. But he was separated by metaphysical distance from the link, and also, a species that lived for generations trapped in the same facility didn¡¯t have much of a shared emotional language for travel. So James tried something different. He pushed out emotions, instead. The feeling of safety, of calm, of warmth, of happiness. He grabbed his own memories and stripped the emotions from them so he could try to express himself to this new mind. And what he got back was, flatly, disbelief. They didn¡¯t believe him. Why would they? There was no change, no end, no future. There was only the fear and the misery. James was a single person, he wasn¡¯t going to be able to change that. And the worst part was, it was such a powerful sensation, he almost believed it himself. Not just feeling it, but internalizing it in his very core. So he did something stupid and dove deeper. There was no sense, with skulljack merging, of effort. You either were someone or you weren¡¯t. The only effort, really, was how much you pulled back against it. And James stopped pulling quite so hard. Let himself slip down toward the gravity well of being a single person, trusting the hardware to keep that from happening right at once. Belief was a powerful thing. The bugs didn¡¯t believe in anything; they simply knew the facts of their world and the limits of their lives. James believed in something. James believed in helping. James believed in caring. James believed in a perfect tomorrow, if only they could build it. And James wasn¡¯t entirely James at the moment. Their thoughts were becoming tangled despite the firmware and hardware that should have kept them entirely separate, and James could feel small parts of his individuality slipping. Memories that should have been only his were instead his, or his, from either side, the two of them blending into a single person. A deeply confused person. Was he human, or something else? Could he chant, or not? Was he a prisoner, or a liberator? At least neither of them were really alone inside their heads. The part of him that was still himself found a common thread between them. The part of each of the two separate minds that had lived their whole lives knowing they were going to die. And James grabbed hold of that miserable, horrifying sensation, and he dragged up to the surface. And then, across the gulf of their minds, held together with a thin length of cable and some microcontrollers that were only barely doing their jobs, James showed what he felt. That everything was going to be okay. The thinnest, stupidest, least plausible ray of hope that anyone could ever imagine. But he felt it. And he gave it freely. He pulled back. The other mind pulled back. Their thoughts diverged, back to individuality and singular personhood. But the emotional connection remained. And from the other side, there was something new. It wasn¡¯t pleasant, either. Disbelief, partly, but a cruel kind of it. The kind of disbelief that anyone would want to help, the rejection of the idea that they weren¡¯t alone. The cold self-harm of deciding to not take the hand that reached out. But even that feeling wasn¡¯t real. It was a clinging sticky vestige still tethered to the emotional pit of endless terror that ate all things good. Slowly, slowly, the other mind reached out again. Emotions as a question. Echos of James¡¯ happiness, his compassion, his safety and comfort. And a small, timid spark of inquisitiveness to go with them. ¡°Could We feel this?¡± The thing asked, in a halting voice without language. James shoved back assent, eagerness, anything to show a yes. He didn¡¯t know how to explain the situation, but he needed them to move. To follow the Order out of here, to get clear of any potential Status Quo retaliation. They had to get to somewhere safe, where they could start working on the rest. So he shared memories of fighting, of running, of the comfort and safety of the Lair, anything he could think to convince the other mind. It might have been too much, James wasn¡¯t sure. He was worried he overloaded them. But bit by bit, he felt the terror start to fray. Not leave, not recede, and certainly not go away. Just¡­ slightly less. Slight changed. From contact with something new. He got back a single impression over the connection. Agreement. Or perhaps resignation. But either way, he was pretty sure, after all that, at least this one of them would follow the Order somewhere safe. James confidently reached up to unclip the cord from his skulljack, ending the link as softly as he could. Opening his eyes to see the world painted in a sunset that hadn¡¯t been there when he¡¯d started. Across from him, the bug creature - no, the lost and scared person - stumbled to his claws. And then, staring at James with those tall oval eyes, they inhaled deeply, and then let out an animalistic, pained scream. The single warbling sound grew in volume, the other bugs skittering back from where they¡¯d been waiting. They weren¡¯t the only one; Hasoh, the ratroach that had come with Texture-Of-Barkdust, also kicked out dirt clods as he scrambled to run away with both his arms and legs carrying him. James just sat, though. Exhausted, emotionally and physically, he reached out his shaking hand with Zhu¡¯s help to unplug the link from his conversation partner¡¯s neck. And then, to settle his hand on the side of the creature¡¯s wailing face. His hide was tough, and warm to the touch, and twisting and contorting like they had never once made a sound before and never dared to feel anything but tired resignation and fear and was only just now learning how to scream and cry and snarl. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± James whispered, or tried to. ¡°For what happened to you.¡± He let his hand drop. Or rather, he realized he couldn¡¯t move his arm, and his hand had fallen down on its own accord. Then there was a rushing in his head, a vertigo that was physically painful, and then James followed the unruly limb, tipping forward and collapsing into unconsciousness on the grass and dirt. He made a dusty thud, Zhu utterly failing to catch him as the infomorph also dropped into unconsciousness. ¡°Hm.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust, who had simply stayed stoically calm through the whole thing, looked at James oddly positioned unconscious form with mild concern. A medical team was already on the way, but she could see he was still breathing. ¡°This is why Reed was supposed to ask you if you were diabetic. I will need to have a talk with him about safety protocols.¡± Chapter 248 ¡°Let me tell you something about Clark Kent. Clark Kent is kind, he is decent, he makes time to visit his parents, and when he finishes the coffee he always makes a fresh pot. Sure, when there''s a giant robot attacking he''s always suddenly not around, but he is a damn good investigative reporter who has taken on civic corruption, Intergang, even Lexcorp. He is a devoted husband, loving father and the fastest typist I have ever seen. If Clark Kent is a critique of the human race, I''ll take that. I''ll take that any day.¡± -Three_Of_Swords, regarding Kill Bill¡¯s Superman monologue- _____ ¡°I knew this was gonna happen.¡± Alanna grumbled as she stood behind Anesh, arms folded, staring out at the old pumpkin patch. And also at the hundreds of bugs, about half of whom were making some kind of warbling howl together. Alanna wasn¡¯t in a good mood. She couldn¡¯t be in a good fucking mood, because she was probably the most powerful human empath on the planet. Her head hurt, her eyes felt sore, and she still ached from being shot, even if it hadn¡¯t worked to kill her. And being able to shut out or dial back how much she picked up from other people was somewhat overshadowed by the new information that seemingly every one of these new bug friends were empaths too. Receiver and broadcaster. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that their collective screaming howl was deeply cathartic in a way that none of them understood or could ever explain, Alanna might actually have gone completely fucking mad in the first wave of it. Instead, she¡¯d held onto her senses, and was now mostly past being actively influenced. A lot of the Order without empath experience - which was everyone that wasn¡¯t her - wasn¡¯t. They were still slightly reeling from the incoming sensation, even if it was muted compared to what Alanna got. Half the Order¡¯s forces had needed to either pull back to Nate¡¯s secondary perimeter sites, or leave altogether. ¡°You knew that about three hundred and fifty nonhuman sophonts were going to turn out to be mental radio towers that send out nightmares on a frequency humans -especially you - can pick up, and that it would be because of something James did, and that it also would be the better possible outcome?¡± Anesh demanded, perhaps a little harsher than he intended. He was marking dots on the sketched map of the farm that he had on his clipboard, comparing distances with where he saw certain patterns out on the field. ¡°Sorry.¡± He said, after he placed a couple more dots, and had a chance to think about how he sounded. ¡°That was¡­¡± ¡°I mean, I knew it would be James.¡± Alanna said. She was starting to feel a bit better, but it was mostly because she and Anesh were using their relationstick link, and she was dumping a lot of her awareness into him. Deafening herself slightly to the ongoing event. ¡°I didn¡¯t know it would be all the other shit you said.¡± Anesh clicked his tongue. ¡°If you had, we¡¯d need to talk about whatever prophecy power you¡¯d picked up, and how you aren¡¯t allowed to use it.¡± ¡°What, really?¡± ¡°Quite so, I¡¯m afraid. We had a delver majority vote on it last week. No use of causality breaking magic if we can help it. That includes prophecy.¡± Alanna frowned. ¡°What if it¡¯s suitably cryptic?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not gonna litigate mucking with time with you.¡± Anesh felt his head start to ache, in the spot directly over his left eye. ¡°Do we have a potion for headaches?¡± ¡°To cause one? Yeah, there¡¯s¡­ oh, you mean¡­ no.¡± Alanna shook her head as Anesh bit back an unintended chuckle. ¡°I mean, we have ibuprofen?¡± She unclipped a pocket on the harness she had over her armor, and offered Anesh a small wrapped packet. He eyed the wrapped pills curiously, glancing away from his clipboard to do it. ¡°Why do you have this?¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I dunno, I had an extra tiny pocket on here, and I used to wear the webbing when I¡¯m doing Response stuff. It¡¯s good to have something like this; a lot of times people are only being shitty because they¡¯re in pain, and it¡¯s not an instant fix, but it does help to be able to offer it.¡± She shrugged again. ¡°Since I don¡¯t go out in armor anymore, I built a different loadout that doesn¡¯t use all the tiny pouches. But I didn¡¯t take the stuff out of this one.¡± ¡°Well, thanks.¡± Anesh said, already tearing the little packet open with his teeth. ¡°Does it sound like they¡¯re quieting down?¡± It did, somewhat. The distant sounds of voices finding themselves for the first time couldn¡¯t hold forever. All of the creatures had been entirely silent up until this moment, and the way many of them rapidly tapered off, screams and wails ending in hoarse hacking sounds, it seemed like they hadn¡¯t ever used their voices before at all. And now the chained howl was dying down, the warbling shared notes of it reduced to single voices that struggled to keep going. ¡°Oof. That was¡­ something.¡± Alanna murmured. ¡°Can I have my eyes back?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Anesh pushed back across their link, and felt Alanna on the other end take back what was hers. ¡°Okay. Look at this.¡± He held out his map to her. ¡°What am I looking at?¡± ¡°Spots in the dirt where there¡¯s stuff growing.¡± Anesh said, looking out over the field with eyes that no longer worked quite so well. It wasn¡¯t that his vision had gone blurry, it was more that he just felt a little slower, a little dumber maybe. He¡¯d been leaning on his pattern recognition skill as well as his own sharp mind, and those weren¡¯t gone, but Alanna¡¯s perception had really helped. ¡°And before you ask, I mean where things are growing that they weren¡¯t before.¡± ¡°Spots around where there are clusters of the bugs when they started yelling, right?¡± Alanna said slowly. ¡°I think they¡¯re magic.¡± Anesh said softly. ¡°I mean, we knew they were probably magic. But like¡­ like camraconda magic. I started taking it for granted that camracondas can freeze people by looking at them. Or that ratroaches have magic blood. Or¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ that the things like Fredrick probably do something.¡± ¡°The stuff animals?¡± ¡°Yeah, those.¡± ¡°Sarah thinks they soften damage around them.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Just a little. It¡¯s kinda weird. Don¡¯t spread it around, honestly. We can have a discussion about it when they¡¯re actually adults.¡± She sighed. ¡°Also ratroach blood?¡± Anesh shrugged himself. ¡°It¡¯s corrosive to most things but it¡¯s neither an acid nor a base. All their fluids are.¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± Alanna waggled her eyebrows at her boyfriend. ¡°Please don¡¯t make it weird.¡± Anesh shook his head at her. ¡°So they¡¯re magic in two ways.¡± He said. ¡°And¡­ I don¡¯t know how to¡­¡± He trailed off, looking over Alanna¡¯s shoulder. She turned her head and they both watched as Arrush and Ethan came running up. ¡°News?¡± Anesh asked quietly. For one, Arrush was the one not panting, the extra lung chambers he had grown making him easily able to outpace the human. He knew it wouldn¡¯t last, but at this point in his weird biological cycle, he felt almost invincible. ¡°James is alive, but hurt himself.¡± ¡°Of course he did.¡± ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± Anesh and Alanna spoke at the same time. Arrush continued like he hadn¡¯t heard them, his multitude of eyes splitting between their faces in concern at their seeming lack of care. ¡°Deb is watching him. She had¡­ words.¡± He didn¡¯t expound on that. They probably knew. ¡°He did not tell anyone he was diabetic.¡± ¡°He¡¯s¡­ not?¡± Alanna scrunched up her face in confusion. ¡°He¡¯s absolutely not.¡± ¡°¡­oh. You should tell Deb.¡± Arrush said, slouching most of his shoulders without thinking about it. ¡°The¡­ the new ones are listening to us now, though. Letting people get closer. We need more telepads, and a place to put them, and¡­ and¡­¡± He blinked his eyes in a rotating sequence, trying to think of what he was supposed to say. Ethan came to his rescue, the young man red in the face and finally having caught his breath, popping up from next to Arrush with a hand on his chest. ¡°Ah-Alanna, can you help move the shellies into groups of six? They seem okay, but people are still nervous to get into the middle of them. And Anesh, uh¡­¡± ¡°Telepads.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Got it. Be right back.¡± One of him pulled his own telepad and vanished, leaving the other iteration of him still sitting there. ¡°Do Nate and JP know what¡¯s up here?¡± ¡°JP¡¯s still in the hospital back at the Lair, and Nate and Ben are keeping everyone informed.¡± Ethan said. ¡°And I gotta go. We need to find¡­ uh¡­ El? She¡¯s not in a squad, and not answering her messages.¡± Ethan gulped in air, squared his shoulders, and then turned and took off running again. Arrush nodded. ¡°And I am escorting him.¡± He said, three of his paws resting on the hilts of the long knives or pistols in his armor. ¡°Good luck.¡± The ratroach said as he loped off, easily keeping up with the human. Alanna and Anesh watched them go. They weren¡¯t the only people rushing around the farm, either. Anesh spoke a stray thought. ¡°Didn¡¯t Ethan play football or something? And he¡¯s a delver? How is he drained when Arrush isn¡¯t?¡± ¡°This is one of those things you take for granted. Cause you only ever talk to Arrush, so you got used to not thinking of him as someone who could fucking destroy you if he actually wanted to fight.¡± Alanna said calmly. Then she added, in a quieter voice, ¡°Jesus, he¡¯s in a full combat load, isn¡¯t he? He might actually be the most dangerous thing here.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Anesh said, startling her. ¡°Good?¡± Her boyfriend nodded, running a hand through his short black hair. ¡°Good. That¡¯s another person I can hide behind when everything goes wrong.¡± ¡°You¡­¡± Alanna stared at him with narrowing eyes. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I probably wouldn¡¯t.¡± Anesh said as his double popped back in. ¡°Okay. Got the telepads. I¡¯m gonna go link up with the Recovery team.¡± ¡°And I need to talk to Ben.¡± Alanna grimaced, hoisting her rifle. ¡°You be safe. If things get bad, don¡¯t hide behind Arrush. You get out, okay?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll¡­¡± Anesh was going to say something flippant about how he¡¯d play it by ear. But then he saw the worried, almost hurting look in Alanna¡¯s eyes. ¡°Yeah.¡± He corrected himself. ¡°I won¡¯t try to fight anyone.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Alanna rustled his hair, and took off toward the farmhouse. ¡°Go check on James when you have a chance!¡± She yelled back. _____ Alanna found Ben hiding behind the tractor shed, sitting in the dirt in a way that reminded her of how James looked when they¡¯d cut class in high school and hide in the loading dock, a laptop on his legs and two phones sitting on a notebook next to him flecked with bits of earth. ¡°Kinda expected you to be at your little command center.¡± She commented. And instantly regretted it, as Ben looked up at her with red eyes and a face painted in fear. Ben, it turned out, looked like how you expected your friend to look like. And for a lot of people, that meant they wouldn¡¯t actually see him hurt. But Alanna expected her friends to look like how they felt, and whatever magic cloaked Ben wasn¡¯t really effective against her own empathy. ¡°Shit. You-¡° ¡°Shut up.¡± Ben¡¯s voice was cool and professional, even though it wavered ever so slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ shut up. Please. You don¡¯t need to worry, or help, or anything. I¡¯ll be fine, I just needed to be a little farther away.¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t even a little bit believe you.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, tough.¡± Ben still held no malice in his tone. ¡°What do you need?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna start organizing the bugs for teleport.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Who am I helping, who¡¯s helping me, and where are we going?¡± Ben blinked. ¡°I thought we¡¯d just go back to¡­ oh.¡± Alanna drummed her fingers idly on the front ballistic plate of her body armor. ¡°The Lair has housing for a bunch of people, but none of it is made for these friendos, and we just straight up don¡¯t have a comfortable space for them. I¡¯m taking them to Townton. Get in touch with the Recovery team there and tell them we¡¯re coming. Loop Karen in, tell her we¡¯re going to need food and bedding and whatever else for all of them. She¡¯ll know.¡± ¡°Do you want to be in charge?¡± Ben asked. ¡°Not really.¡± Alanna tapped the green hoop earring she was wearing in the ear opposite the old looted Status Quo artifact. ¡°But if I have to be, I¡¯m going to be good at it, and it¡¯ll make us stronger.¡± Ben nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± He breathed lightly. ¡°You need to know, Nate did find a GPS tracker in the prison chunk we ripped out. Two, actually. I had Deb check the prisoners we rescued for any implants, but they seem clean.¡± ¡°Are you jamming it or something?¡± Alanna realized she didn¡¯t know what that entailed. ¡°Well, Nate swore a lot, and smashed it, then gave the debris to someone on a drake to fly out and dump in the ocean.¡± Ben was clearly trying to hide how darkly funny he found that. ¡°But we can¡¯t do medical checks on the bugs. Not without¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Right.¡± Alanna sighed. ¡°Okay. And even if they¡¯re not being tracked, Squo, they still know we¡¯re here.¡± Ben nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve got the engineers making jammers, because it turns out you can¡¯t just order things that interfere with GPS signals on Amazon. I¡¯ll make sure they know they need to get to Townton, and have them up before you get there. Just in case.¡± Looking up from her own phone, where she¡¯d just texted Anesh the place to start filling out telepads for, Alanna nodded like she¡¯d fully processed that sentence. ¡°Sounds good.¡± She said. ¡°One other thing; what¡¯re we doing with our prisoner?¡± Ben groaned. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He complained. ¡°She¡¯s an enemy agent, she¡¯s also empowered. If we let her go¡­ well, what do you think she¡¯d do?¡± Grimacing as she thought back to the interrogation, Alanna went over what they knew of the woman. She wasn¡¯t entirely unsympathetic; she felt like she was underpaid, and while she had ¡®job security¡¯, it came in the form of vague threats to never leave the company. Her social life suffered for it too; being essentially on-call twenty four seven. Of course, she was also a cruel and manipulative bitch. Alanna was utterly confident in that assessment of the prisoner, too. They¡¯d managed to catch her in two lies, though it wasn¡¯t clear if she knew that, and that was her lying to Ben. And she did it while feeling entirely at ease. That, and the way she¡¯d instantly dropped any pretense of not enjoying hurting people when James had confronted her about the bugs the second time around¡­ ¡°I think,¡± Alanna said slowly, ¡°that we should examine, ethically, where the line is.¡± ¡°What line?¡± Ben gave her a confused tilt of his head. Alanna swallowed her personal disgust. ¡°The line where we put together an Order hive mind, skulljack into her head, and annihilate her personality, so we can use her body as a backup later.¡± ¡°What the fuck.¡± ¡°Just, as an example.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Or we-¡° ¡°Alanna, what the fuck?!¡± She stared Ben down, his righteous indignation grating on her after the emotional ordeal earlier. ¡°Man, what the fuck do you think she¡¯s gonna do? She¡¯s a killer, and she likes it. If we let her go, she¡¯ll go right back to Status Quo, because she likes being powerful and she likes hurting people. She might also try to stab a few of us on the way out. We could ransom her back, which is more direct, and we could profit off it, but then there¡¯s even less question that she¡¯ll go right back to causing harm.¡± Alanna spat in the dirt, an irate snarl on her face. ¡°We could keep her prisoner; we could. We could put the facilities and protocol for it together real fast, especially if she¡¯s the only one. But then what?¡± ¡°Rehabilitation. Restitution.¡± Ben said softly. ¡°The things your boyfriend always talks about a functioning justice system having.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really wanna spend anything on her that could instead be spent on her victims.¡± Alanna pointed through the wood slats of the tractor shed to where the field of shelled life forms were hanging out. ¡°That¡¯s fucking insane.¡± Ben pushed back on her anger. ¡°It¡¯s not an either or. It¡¯s¡­ we have the resources to do both. And you fucking know we shouldn¡¯t be randomly scooping out people¡¯s minds because it¡¯s convenient. I know I¡¯m maybe not the best person to talk about this, but just no.¡± ¡°We could also just shoot her.¡± Alanna suggested. ¡°That probably wouldn¡¯t work¡± The almost flippant way Ben said it actually helped her calm down slightly. ¡°Okay. Well. We can figure it out later.¡± Alanna extended an olive branch. ¡°Maybe just leave her here and let her live out her life as a pumpkin farmer.¡± ¡°Swords to plowshares isn¡¯t a real life spell anyone has yet.¡± ¡°I hate that James has inflicted on me the understanding of that reference.¡± Alanna cracked her neck. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get started. Is Townton ready?¡± ¡°You think that, while sitting here talking to you about unethical prisoner disposal, I have managed to redirect all our Recovery staff who were nervously waiting at the Lair, to another city halfway across the country, and that they¡¯re already prepared for a¡­humanitarian is a bad word but whatever¡­ effort?¡± Alanna pointed at his head. ¡°Yes. I can see your skulljack braid.¡± Ben stared at her, and then started moving deliberately to pocket his phones and fold up his laptop, before he stood and awkwardly dusted off his knees and ass. ¡°They¡¯re getting ready. There¡¯s a public park they¡¯re setting up at, though it¡¯s overgrown as heck.¡± ¡°You were swearing at me a second ago and now you say ¡®heck¡¯.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t swear at my friends.¡± ¡°We are friends!¡± Alanna cheerfully told him as they circled the tractor shed and she was presented again with the view of the survivors of the brand new species that had just joined her world. ¡°Wait, we are friends, right? Or is that just me¡­ uh¡­ being influenced?¡± She didn¡¯t think it was. Ben wouldn¡¯t do that kind of thing to¡­ Alanna frowned. This was difficult. Ben shifted his stuff to under one arm as he pointed out a cluster of knights. ¡°There¡¯s your team. Get to work.¡± He told her. ¡°And we¡¯re only friends if you¡¯re not suggesting mind wiping people.¡± Alanna nodded, and jogged off, really getting a good workout today. So they were friends. _____ Arriving to work was the most chaotic part of Karen Ward¡¯s day. Once she actually made it safely to her desk, and sat down, the list of potential surprises narrowed to a finite amount. A manageable amount. Research and their reformed mad Alchemists might present a new potion that had to be budgeted for, a delve team might come back with an unknown paramaterial or just a sack of gold coins that she¡¯d need to work out the financial impact of, someone might demolish something important and she¡¯d need to hire a landscaper to replace the trees around the Lair. Normal things. Things that were within the scope of her day to day operations. It was the stretch between entering the building and getting ¡®upstairs¡¯ that was where the danger lay. Once, Karen had arrived to work in the afternoon, sat down in the dining area to review some notes and have a light lunch, and gotten two sips into her fruit juice before a virulent disease had torn through the Lair and given her skill points to go with the new dotted scars on her arms. Another time, she¡¯d actually made it to the elevator before Color-Of-Dawn had timidly approached her and asked if Karen would be overly upset if the camraconda asked her daughter out on a date. Karen had settled into a small frown as she realized that somehow, she¡¯d ended up with a life where these two things felt equivalent. Even still, though. There was a calm to the changes that happened behind her desk, and a frantic sense of powerlessness to all the ones that caught her unawares before she made it to safety. Today, she moved through the lobby and on to the elevator without anyone stopping her. There was clearly some kind of activity going on; the Lair was always full of people in odd styles of dress, whether that was because they were sartorially impaired or simply returning from or going to a delve. But Karen could read the flow of things, and she could tell there was a mustering of knights happening in a way that meant trouble. But nothing was on fire. No one was shouting, no one was bleeding. Things seemed organized and deliberate. So she¡¯d moved on to the elevators, and waited patiently for her ride. She¡¯d even gotten a polite good morning from Marcus as the young man passed her and took the stairs down to his own job. Karen didn¡¯t feel that she could relate much personally to most of the kids in the building, but many of the dispatchers for Response had an attitude of structured problem solving that she felt was good for anyone to be familiar with. This was the closest she would get to saying she liked Marcus, but it did mean that she gave him a smile and polite return of his greeting before her elevator arrived. ¡®Upstairs¡¯, which was technically vertically elevated but also in LA, was the last hurdle to clear. ¡°Good morning Fernidan.¡± She greeted their door guard as she stepped off the elevator. Karen had almost mastered the awkward and somewhat silly pronunciation of the living plant¡¯s name. ¡°You¡¯re looking suspiciously healthy this morning.¡± The plant, which was technically a mix of felt and plastic, but grew like it was alive and bobbed like it was very alive, was a brighter green than normal. Despite having no face to emote with, she got the impression Fernidan puffed up with pride at the statement. Karen just nodded to him, and kept moving toward her office. ¡°Ah, hello Karen.¡± A woman only a little younger than Karen herself gave her a thin smile and a nod as she passed through the desks that lined each side of the pathway to the walled offices. Originally this office floor had them with the employees sitting in the hall itself, so that their boss could walk behind them unannounced and make everyone nervous. The Order hadn¡¯t wanted to remodel the glass wall that separated the conference room, so they¡¯d just turned the desks around and made everyone more comfortable. ¡°Cathy. You¡¯re here early.¡± Karen paused to make polite chat. ¡°Anything important?¡± Cathy gave a tilt of her head at being acknowledged. ¡°My turn to do the vacuuming. Honestly, I see the benefit to sharing the work around, but if we¡¯re not going to hire a dedicated janitor, we could at least get the young ones to do it. My back protests!¡± Karen¡¯s smile gained a hint of something more earnest. She constantly had to be reminded that it was alright to be vulnerable here, even if she maybe didn¡¯t think of it in those terms. ¡°Yes, well, Smoke¡­ ah¡­ dislikes the vacuum. And she¡¯s the most proficient of the kids.¡± Karen said. ¡°If your back is giving you trouble, though, I believe some of our friends downstairs have been making some worrying concoction for that. Or we could simply rearrange it so you¡¯re doing low impact tasks.¡± Karen¡¯s mind listed off the options almost on reflex. As far as distractions went, making a schedule more efficient was a fairly tame one. ¡°Oh, no no, it¡¯s alright.¡± Cathy waved her hands between them. ¡°I just wanted to complain a bit; I¡¯ll manage.¡± ¡°Your health is important, dear.¡± Karen informed her bluntly. ¡°I know, I know. I¡¯ll look into the potion.¡± Cathy ducked her head, but Karen could see the thin blush on the woman¡¯s cheeks under her makeup. Even for someone who¡¯d been with the Order since before they¡¯d called it that, Cathy was, like Karen, from a world where it was uncommon for anyone to care. You either did the job, or you didn¡¯t, and that was the extent of your value. Working here took getting used to. ¡°Oh, the reports from Townton are on your desk. I know you like the printouts.¡± Karen gave a professional nod. ¡°Thank you. Oh, please send Texture-Of-Barkdust to me when she gets in. Normally she¡¯d be here by now.¡± Karen looked around the mostly empty office. Not many people actually came in before seven AM, but she and her camraconda partner worked efficient hours. ¡°Can do.¡± And then, having gotten through the potential gauntlet of distractions and chaos, Karen made it to her office, and sat down, and took a sip of her coffee. It was warm and comforting and helped ground the normality of the job. Because despite the fact that she was researching the potential security requirements for teleportation devices, and doing an inventory of duplication ritual outputs, the job was normal. And Karen got to work cross referencing information and doing a broad outline for the budget and long term plans of the Order of Endless Rooms. The duplication ritual - and Karen did hate calling it a ritual - was up to an average of fifteen uses every week. Experienced delver teams made the trip from the door of Officium Mundi to four different cubicle stacks, safely extracted the altered coffee grounds needed, and returned with ample time to run the ritual. Some weeks they made more or less, depending on injuries or unforeseen circumstances, but fifteen was the comfortable middle, even if they were looking to increase it with more towers producing coffee. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The hardest part was that the Order wanted to help. And that, unfortunately, conflicted with the fact that the Order needed to survive. Armory packages for new recruits were eight small orbs, which meant a single copy could cover ten people. But that wasn¡¯t the only thing they needed; shield bracers and other Status Quo items were bulky, uneven, and frustratingly didn¡¯t have good standard measurements. Those took another three copies, as the Order continued building its less ethereal armory. Two copies were set aside for other orbs, as they now had the room to test a large quantity of the smallest size. The good ones were saved and might be added to the armory lists. Another copy was for developing Order veterans with orbs of their choice; not maximum efficiency when they were still finding hundreds of the things unidentified, but it was important for making people know they were valued. The next copy was esoterica. ¡®Magic items¡¯ they needed more of, such as the pots that grew cacti which her daughter¡¯s friend had figured out how to slim down to fit in the copy space, or single Akashic Sewer lesson books to be shared between good friends. The Order hadn¡¯t yet started a protocol of having one mass-duplicated lesson for everyone, and Karen wasn¡¯t sure it was a good idea anyway. If there was anything specific that they needed more of, like, perhaps, a magical teleporter, Karen would assign extra duplications in this part of the process. And she did, because those things were maddeningly valuable. The next two were dedicated to telepads. Packed boxes of the far more effective style Anesh had made. The almost two second delay on the teleport was considered to be worth the risk given that they were almost three times as efficient in terms of space. The last duplication for material wealth. The one thing they could easily compress space and get away with, because platinum, gold, cobalt, lithium, and even aluminum, weren¡¯t magical. And a strange orange totem that enlarged the duplicated case, with its twin covering the area that duplicate popped into existence, meant the Order could make¡­ too much money. Literally printing wealth. Transport was an issue. That¡¯s why it was last. They had to move a lot by hand. Because they couldn¡¯t duplicate a briefcase with a totem inside it, and still get the totem, so the issue of portability became a problem. Karen¡¯s head had hurt for a week after hearing Reed try to explain it, and in the end, she¡¯d simply assigned a lot of extra people to help move the tonnage into a transportation case after duplicating it. Every other duplication went toward making runs of the orbs that cured cancer. It was, Karen had rapidly realized, never going to be enough. The numbers didn¡¯t scale. Earth had two million new cases of cancer a year. Six hundred thousand deaths. The Order could, if they stopped every other thing they were copying, cure a thousand people a week. Karen was familiar with the tyrant of the extra zero. It was just hard to look at the numbers, and see a gap of that many orders of magnitude. So she didn¡¯t focus on it beyond getting the number of orbs they¡¯d have available sent off to Justine and her department. Instead she focused on writing up the list for what was getting copied and sending it off to Research to put together the cases in advance and make it all easier, smoother. Other things were easier. Double checking Research¡¯s allocation for the sap they used to make potions. Returning an email about the first delivery of platinum to one of their buyers. Giving their salary expenses a once over just to verify for the fifth time that they could actually afford it. That last part was strange. Karen had not been under the pretense that this operation would be profitable when she¡¯d joined it. And now that it was, and it was becoming clear that magic that solved problems was just as valuable as anything else that solved those problems, she found that most of the people here wanted to give the profit away. Well, that wasn¡¯t fair. They wanted to make use of it, as opposed to reinvesting or stockpiling or even just pushing for constant growth. And Karen found it hard to complain when she was one of the beneficiaries of that use. Enriching the lives of the Order¡¯s members, and then sprawling out to wend their way into positions to do it to other unsuspecting civilians, was where a lot of money went. That, and hiring. The Order didn¡¯t exactly take applications these days. They found people who might be good fits, and dragged them in. Karen wasn¡¯t part of that, but she did have the number in the budget for how many people they could afford, and so, having spent two hours glaring at numbers that were both too large and too small for her to be truly happy with them, she sent the go-ahead to three different people that they could bring in new recruits. She also gave a heartfelt thanks to Smoke as the ratroach crept into her office and left fresh coffee and a salad from downstairs on her desk. Karen didn¡¯t actually know what the purple-furred ratroach¡¯s job here was, but Smoke was constantly useful in a way that felt almost paranoid. The thought made her pause, midway into spearing a tomato wedge. Maybe she should talk to the girl. If she was only working because she was worried she¡¯d be kicked out otherwise, that wasn¡¯t good for anyone. Karen made a note, before finishing her lunch and resuming her afternoon. It wasn¡¯t until after she¡¯d finalized the budget allocation to Townton¡¯s recovery efforts, having gone through several steps to figure out how much they were actually paying for legal consultation because no one had thought to include it, that Karen realized she¡¯d been alone in her office all day. ¡°Where is that woman?¡± She muttered, looking up at the door as if Texture-Of-Barkdust would be summoned by the words. And to be fair, it might have worked on any other day. Today, the knock on her door that sounded shortly after she noticed was¡­ well, a knock on the door. Texture-Of-Barkdust didn¡¯t actually knock that often. ¡°Yes?¡± Karen said, perhaps a little sharply. When the door cracked open and her daughter poked her head in, Karen relaxed a bit. ¡°Hey mom.¡± Elizebeth said, with the kind of voice that put Karen right back on edge again. She recognized that voice. It was how she¡¯d addressed her mother when she was about to ask permission for something stupid, and her daughter sounded¡­ achingly familiar, when she did the same thing. ¡°How¡¯s your day going?¡± ¡°It¡¯s certainly going.¡± Karen smiled at her daughter. ¡°Come in, sit, relax. Weren¡¯t you supposed to be helping Momo with something today?¡± She internally winced at how accusatory that had sounded. And also how vague. Karen knew precisely what her daughter had said she was going to be doing, but she was trying to not seem like she was keeping close tabs on the child. ¡°She didn¡¯t oversleep, did she?¡± She added, offering what she hoped was a lighthearted out. Elizebeth gave her a worried look. ¡°Mom, you need to check your texts more.¡± ¡°I check them twice a day, which is already more than anyone should need to.¡± Karen might have sounded slightly defensive. ¡°And if there¡¯s an emergency, that infuriating program your friend made makes ignoring it impossible.¡± Her daughter pulled her phone from one of the multiplying number of pockets on her cargo pants, and flicked through it, before pushing it across Karen¡¯s desk. ¡°This?¡± Karen glanced over the text, careful to respect the teenager etiquette rule of not scrolling through someone else¡¯s phone - she was amazed there had been a yellow orb for that, but not disappointed with the effects - while her daughter kept talking. ¡°So things seem okay, and everyone¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ fine¡­¡± She trailed off while Karen¡¯s eyes widened as she tried to read and listen at the same time. ¡°So can I go help? Everyone else is going.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± Karen was caught off guard by the question. Elizebeth slipped into excited, faster speech patterns. ¡°There¡¯s a whole bunch of people who are helping out with the new things, and a couple of the youth groups are sort of going to help put up tents and run errands and stuff. It¡¯s out at the farm that-¡° ¡°The farm that Reed destroyed, yes, I¡¯m aware.¡± Karen was nonplussed. ¡°And also that there is a chunk of Underburbs sitting in?¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that got burned down?¡± Elizebeth sheepishly replied. ¡°And it didn¡¯t get destroyed! Just one of the fields got torn up! And no one got hurt!¡± Karen eyed her daughter. ¡°And you know this because¡­?¡± ¡°Because I check my texts!¡± Elizebeth smugly stated, as if that would secure her victory. Karen tapped a few keys on her computer to pull up her own messages, and read with the rapid pace that only came from years of needing to know things mid-meeting. ¡°Hundreds¡­¡± she heard herself mutter as she caught up, before locking eyes with her daughter. ¡°And you want to go there?¡± She asked harshly. But then her daughter did something that surprised her. That happened a lot, lately, Karen realized. And maybe she should put more faith in Elizabeth, and realize the teenager had grown just as much as Karen had herself. ¡°They¡¯re going to need someone there for them, mom.¡± Elizabeth said, voice dipped and hardened in determination. ¡°Their world just ended. I¡­¡± She stopped talking, nervously grinding her teeth together as she failed to keep eye contact with her mother. Karen heard the unspoken words though. ¡®I went through that too.¡¯ Her daughter pointedly didn¡¯t say. She never said it. She didn¡¯t ever once use that against Karen, never tried to make her mom feel guilty for being captured while visiting a client site, for their lives falling apart, for anything. Not that she needed to; Karen was acutely aware of her own failing as a parent. And now she was looking at her daughter and seeing a young woman who had grown into someone who saw others hurting the same way she¡¯d been hurt, and wanted to help. Without reservation, without fear. Karen was afraid; she could easily see one uncontrolled moment of panic from the hundreds of spined creatures ending with multiple deaths on all sides. But Elizabeth just came to ask if she could have permission to go into that field and help. Karen clicked a few things on her monitor, saved her work, and closed down her computer. Then she stood up and made a precise movement to grab her jacket off the nearby coat rack. ¡°I¡¯ll meet you downstairs. I assume there are groups teleporting out from the lobby.¡± ¡°Mom?¡± ¡°I trust Nate to manage combat deployments, and Ben to manage those gathering intelligence, and JP to¡­¡± Karen trailed off. ¡°I trust Nate and Ben in their fields. I think they¡¯d be better served by someone with organization experience on the ground. I just need to contact a few people from Recovery to come with us. I¡¯ll meet you downstairs, and we can get to it.¡± Karen smiled at her daughter, maybe a little stiffly. ¡°Their world ended. They¡¯ll need all the help they can get.¡± Elizabeth didn¡¯t say anything at first. Just threw herself against her mom in a crushing hug, before uttering a rapid series of thank yous, and fleeing Karen¡¯s office. As soon as she was alone, Karen pulled out her phone and started making calls, while she also pulled the concealed holster from her desk drawer and slung it into place under her coat. Her phone clicked and a man¡¯s voice spoke a greeting. ¡°Pavan, hello. Have you checked your texts lately? Mh hm. Yes, myself as well. Yes, I¡¯ll be heading there now. Prioritize food and water, I will speak with Deb about medical. Yes. Yes, bring them in. Yes, I¡¯ll see you there.¡± Karen opened her office door just as she was hanging up, and stepped out into the open floor to see Cathy and Smoke standing waiting for her, expectantly. She appraised the two women, especially the timid and skittish ratroach who had her angular face pointed like an arrow at the floor, and then nodded once. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Karen said as the elevator opened for them. ¡°Before things get out of hand again without us.¡± _____ James woke up in an efficiently set up medical tent that was somewhere in the middle of the Order¡¯s collection of temporary work spaces loosely surrounding the small army of bug things. It was mostly empty; the serious cases had been moved back to the Lair by now, and the knights who had taken injuries that didn¡¯t put them out of commission had already gotten up and either left the field, or started taking orders from Nate about defensive emplacements. He wasn¡¯t entirely alone. TQ was coiled up next to the cot he was on, the camraconda¡¯s solid rectangle of a head pointed his direction, camera eye focused on him with a slight droop to his cords that James interpreted as exhausted relief. Alex was also here, doing something with a needle on a sterile tray that James didn¡¯t like much. ¡°Mmgplhh.¡± He protested elegantly. ¡°Oh be quiet you baby.¡± Alex said, capping the needle attached to what James saw was an empty syringe. ¡°You¡¯ve already got an IV in, I didn¡¯t need to stab you.¡± James blinked, turning dry and crusted eyes down to look at his arm where a tube was taped against his skin. ¡°Oh.¡± ¡°How¡¯s Zhu doing?¡± Alex asked abruptly. ¡°Can you talk to him? We don¡¯t have an infomorph available to diagnose right now, Mercy¡¯s exhausted and Planner is¡­ I dunno, doing Planner things.¡± She looked out of place in the tent, an incongruity wearing sterile purple gloves on hands that poked out of the end of the shell of Order custom riot armor. ¡°I¡­¡± James tried to focus, finding it hard. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s there. He¡¯s sleeping.¡± ¡°Makes sense. According to Chevoy, the skulljack thing knocks people out like that if they¡¯re diabetic. You should be fine, though that right there was insulin for your blood sugar, which should help you feel less bleary in a minute here.¡± ¡°Nnnnno.¡± James slurred the word. ¡°¡®M not diabetic.¡± ¡°¡­You absolutely are.¡± Alex said, the girl grabbing the clipboard hanging on the end of James¡¯ cot and looking at it. ¡°You¡¯re also mildly vitamin deficient, so leave that IV in for a while. If you¡¯re trying to diet, you suck at it.¡± He shook his head, focus starting to return. ¡°No, Alex, I¡¯m not diabetic.¡± James said. ¡°Seriously. TQ, tell her I¡¯m not diabetic.¡± ¡°No!¡± The camraconda sounded worried. ¡°I am here to make sure you rest. And to tell you things are fine, and working with¡­ minimal problems. Not to argue for you.¡± He inched forward, coils shifting. ¡°You are resting, yes?¡± The camera eye bore down on James. Shrinking back into the stiff material of the cot, James held up his free hand. ¡°Okay, okay.¡± He offered a shaky grin. ¡°But I¡¯m actually, seriously, not-¡° [Survivor : Abyssal : +8 Skill Points] ¡°-diabefuck.¡± The warm splash in his arm from the IV was suddenly overshadowed by what felt like a torrent of life. Vim and vigor that he hadn¡¯t noticed being absent coming back to him, an exhaustion that had crept into his muscles banished in a moment, dexterity he¡¯d not felt slipping away coming back to his fingers. He sucked in a breath, the still warm air of the passing evening feeling like purifying fire in his lungs. James was abruptly starving, in a way he¡¯d been trying to ignore for weeks as¡­ as¡­ ¡°Shit, what the shit, are you okay?!¡± Alex was abruptly at his side, trying to push him back into the cot. Next to him, TQ didn¡¯t do anything to help her. ¡°You look angry.¡± The camraconda noted. James pushed Alex away and swung his legs out, kicking his boots out from the thin blanket and letting them drop to the mat. ¡°The fucking dungeon.¡± He growled out. ¡°The Underburbs made me diabetic!¡± Weeks of feeling lightheaded or exhausted after every meal, eating less to try to compensate without realizing what he was doing, slowing down, losing focus, making mistakes. How many mistakes did James make that could have gotten himself killed? Or worse, someone else killed? ¡°I¡¯m so hungry. And I don¡¯t have time for this.¡± James¡¯ voice dropped to something quiet and distraught. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± Alex rushed out of the tent, giving James a brief glance through the flap of a trio of camracondas slithering by, all of them armored and looking alert. As James sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees, TQ scooted closer by a small fraction. ¡°Are you actually unharmed?¡± ¡°No.¡± James whispered. ¡°I¡¯m freaking out because I feel deeply violated by this, but that¡¯s basically everything from the Underburbs, and you¡¯re probably the last person I should complain to about this.¡± ¡°That is idiotically untrue.¡± TQ had somehow found time to master making his digital voice sardonic. ¡°Who better to understand losing something to a dungeon?¡± ¡°Okay, fair.¡± TQ gave him a bobbing nod, ducking his thick cabled head back and forth in a u-shape. ¡°Besides that, you can complain to me. I will listen. I don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°Heh.¡± James chuckled. ¡°I feel like you¡¯ve been lurking in my office long enough when I¡¯ve been complaining about stuff that you¡¯d have to either not mind, or hate yourself.¡± ¡°Some of each.¡± The snappy response was worrying. ¡°But that is different, and you know it.¡± TQ squared up his body with James, camera eye meeting James¡¯ own. ¡°You¡¯ve been hurt. You, yourself, are the one who constantly says that human society is flawed at talking about being hurt, or hurting. Do better than that. Trust that everyone has been listening to you.¡± James chewed on his own grin as he sorted through the chastising words. ¡°Alright, alright.¡± He held up his hands, a halfhearted laugh dying in his throat. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re right. You¡¯re¡­¡± His stomach hurt, but he tried to ignore the hunger pang. In a quieter voice, he tried to get a handle on what was bothering him so much. ¡°I don¡¯t like that the boundary doesn¡¯t matter. I don¡¯t like feeling that a dungeon can reach into my life and fuck with things and hurt me or kill me even if I didn¡¯t accept the challenge of the whole threshold thing. You know a lot of us think of dungeons that way? As a sort of trade off, of risk for reward? It¡¯s why Alanna fucking loves them. Because they¡¯re honest about the danger. And¡­ and me too, I guess. But then every now and then we get something like this, or something like you, and I¡­¡± ¡°Something like me?¡± TQ asked, hissing curiously, the tip of his coiled tail flicking back and forth in robotic motions. ¡°Yeah.¡± James nodded, staring down at his hands. ¡°Something that recontextualizes things. The Office took away your agency. And maybe if you¡¯d stayed as drones and never woken up it wouldn¡¯t matter, or maybe we could just ignore it. But we couldn¡¯t, and won¡¯t, and it¡¯s a reminder that there aren¡¯t clean answers. Hell, the Office or things from it have tried to kill people on Earth repeatedly. Probably succeeded at least a few times.¡± James focused on his breathing, trying to keep his heart from racing off. TQ¡¯s thin tongue flicked out over his brass fangs. ¡°Likely. It bothers you that it is going to keep trying?¡± ¡°Absolutely it does!¡± James barked a laugh. ¡°You know how sometimes people ask why we don¡¯t just teleport into places and wreck the people hurting the world? I think it¡¯s because, everything else aside, we all know that once we cross that line, there¡¯s no coming back. And then our home is less safe too, whether the people in it were part of the war or not. There¡¯s a kind of¡­ of tactical restraint to it. Plus the ethics.¡± ¡°I had always assumed the ethics were one of the big things with you.¡± TQ settled back on his coils. ¡°It does feel as though you choose your actions based on an ideology of good, and not on what is convenient.¡± James looked back up and shrugged. ¡°Probably. Maybe I¡¯m just reverse justifying my decision. The point is, the Underburbs is another one of those things that doesn¡¯t care. It doesn¡¯t respect the threshold, it doesn¡¯t¡­ care. Fuck, I¡¯m being stupid. None of these things have ever cared. The Sewer keeps sending out scouts, the Mountain grabs hikers, Clutter¡¯s creatures hang out anywhere they want¡­ okay, that one is fine¡­¡± ¡°You are rambling. Are you alright?¡± TQ asked worriedly. ¡°You talk quickly like that when you feel overwhelmed.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been hanging around too much if you know that about me.¡± James smiled. ¡°I have been hanging around exactly as much as I want.¡± TQ hissed irately as he replied. ¡°From the first moment, you have been exactly yourself with me. You actively do not care what I am.¡± He added as he whipped his head around to stare away from James. James wasn¡¯t quite sure how to interpret that. And he was saved from having to by Alex coming back in, balancing a pair of stacked plastic containers. ¡°Here!¡± She said, handing them over. James¡¯ stomach growled at him again as he opened one and saw some tiny sandwiches. ¡°There¡¯s fruit in the other one. You look like- Jesus Christ dude, chew or something.¡± ¡°Mmhank oooh.¡± James muttered around a mouthful of white bread and cucumber. Seeing TQ staring at the latest of the bits of finger food he¡¯d grabbed as he was stuffing his face, he held out the tiny sandwich. ¡°Mhant uhn?¡± James tried to ask as he chewed. The answer came in the form of the camraconda leaning forward and engulfing James¡¯ entire hand in his mouth, then pulling back and leaving James sitting there with an empty hand extended. Swallowing his lunch, James rolled his eyes at his friend. ¡°You¡¯re so fucking weird.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± TQ tilted his head back as he ate. ¡°So, what now?¡± James asked Alex. ¡°What¡¯s been going on while I¡¯ve been out?¡± He held his arm with the IV in it out, and stared at Alex. She started to answer, then stopped and raised her eyebrows at him. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna¡­¡± James kept staring, and Alex sighed as she put her timing power to use and realized he was going to take longer than her to give up, so she moved around TQ and leaned down to start removing the needle. ¡°If Deb asks you did this yourself.¡± She said. ¡°And things are¡­ going. We¡¯re moving the new best friends out to Townton in batches, but it¡¯s going slow cause we keep having to bring back one or two with each teleport to show the others it¡¯s okay. No sign of Status Quo yet. Uh¡­ the rescue teams for the civilians from the fight got everyone dropped off safely and in contact with Recovery for if they need anything, and I heard that someone called the cops on Dave, which went as well as you might expect.¡± ¡°Alex, the last time I dealt with the cops in New York it was because they were being mind controlled by some kind of eldritch being that might be the embodiment of the ¡®bastard¡¯ part of the ¡®all cops¡¯. What I expect from that encounter is that Dave got shot eighteen times and Pendraon incinerated a city block.¡± Alex stared at him with a narrow eye look, like she was trying to figure out if he was serious, while TQ just hissed out a laugh. ¡°That is not what happened.¡± The camraconda said. And then a short pause later. ¡°Yes?¡± He clarified with Alex. ¡°Yeah, no, that didn¡¯t happen.¡± Alex folded her arms. ¡°Are you gonna be¡­ okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± James continued wolfing down his food, before stacking the hard plastic containers and standing up. His legs hurt from all the running, his arms had bruises in them, the medical gauze Alex had wrapped around his elbow joint itched, he was pretty sure he had bits of dirt and plant burrs in his hair, and his lungs sent pangs through his chest if he breathed too hard. But he wasn¡¯t lying. He felt¡­ not just fine, he felt better than he had in weeks. The best he had since coming out of the Underburb, still infected with something that was sapping his life away. James mentally poked at Zhu, softly verifying that his navigator was still buried in his thoughts somewhere. There was, James realized, a parallel there. Zhu always taking naps after they completed trips. He¡¯d need to find a way to get an infomorph form of insulin, somehow. But until then, he needed to be useful. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go help with the evac.¡± He said, balancing the last pair of orange slices between his fingers. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta get back to the Lair.¡± Alex told him. ¡°Things in the hospital are¡­ busy.¡± ¡°Right, you¡¯ve been doing medical stuff. How¡¯s that going?¡± James asked as the three of them left the tent, blinking away the brighter direct sunlight outside. ¡°I realize you just¡­ uh¡­ did the thing where you threw yourself into danger, that you said you didn¡¯t want to do. And thank you, seriously. You don¡¯t-¡° Alex flicked a hand at him, cutting off whatever James was going to say. ¡°I¡¯m a knight.¡± She said. ¡°No idea what that means. But I can¡¯t just sit down and do nothing, right?¡± ¡°You absolutely could.¡± TQ said. ¡°People do that frequently.¡± ¡°Well, not me. And James here taught me how to glibly play off how scary it all is afterward!¡± Alex sounded way too cheerful about that. Before James could challenge her on that, and tell her that he also really relied on the support of others around him, and a lot of therapy, Alex glanced down at her phone and clicked her tongue. ¡°Gotta go. There was an accident. Be careful, you two.¡± She rapidly pulled a telepad page and, a second later, was gone. TQ hissed softly. ¡°She is not doing okay.¡± ¡°How can you tell?¡± James asked, staring at the patch of trampled grass Alex had left behind. The camraconda dramatically flicked his head over to look up at James. ¡°She¡¯s acting like you.¡± James laughed, caught off guard by the jam. ¡°Ouch! Let¡¯s go see what needs doing.¡± There wasn¡¯t much, shockingly. There were about a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty of the shelled creatures left in the field. James kept wanting to mentally call them bugs, but having been up close with them now, he absolutely knew they weren¡¯t. They weren¡¯t really anything he could think of under that shell, though maybe closer to elephants if elephants had no trunks or ears and flatter faces and also spiked shells and weird chitinous legs. The comparison fell apart a bit on him. He and TQ linked up with Alanna and the other knights who were cautiously and slowly coaxing groups of the new refugees over to teleport. There was still a palpable aura of terror lingering in the air that they could all feel, and Alanna herself complained about it to James bluntly and repeatedly, but their new rescues were quiet for now and weren¡¯t broadcasting their emotions quite so hard. And under that terror, there was something else now. Curiosity, maybe. James wouldn¡¯t call it hope, not yet at least. A few more of the newcomers had accepted skulljacks. The language barrier was still there, but it was helpful for giving simple directions on how to move, how to hold on for telepad transport, that sort of thing. The shelled creatures were letting the Order get close, but they would still lurch away or even lash out if anyone touched them. Apparently that¡¯s why Daniel was back at the Lair¡¯s hospital right now. So it was safer to ask one of them to act as a guide, to push the others into place to move. James took two groups to Townton, each one needing about ten to twenty minutes to coax out, softly reassure even though they couldn¡¯t understand him, and then hand off to the Recovery knights who were in full swing down in the abandoned city. There was a big public park that they were using, partly because it was mostly fenced off, and partly because it wasn¡¯t as close to the asphalt that the necroad population of the not-so-abandoned-really city tended to stick near. A lot of the stuff had already been moved from the old farm; food and water, first aid tents, temporary shelters, teleportation made it easy to put the help where it needed to be. Though it would still probably be a while before anyone was doing a medical checkup on one of their new charges. TQ had an easier time with his groups, and James assumed that it was because they just would not be able to trust a human for a long time. He kept having to remind himself of it. This wasn¡¯t a dungeon that did this to them, it was good old fashioned human monsters. That was fine. James was angry enough today to share it around. Within an hour, they had it down to under a hundred needing to be moved. Another hour, and sunset closing in, and it was down to maybe a dozen fearful stragglers. Well, sunset where they were leaving, a warm night already where they were arriving. Somewhere in that time, Chevoy found James and tripped over herself trying to apologize for nearly killing him with the skulljack interface, a thing that he didn¡¯t remember happening, but which he capitalized on to reinforce the importance of safety procedures to the Researcher who he personally figured was most likely to cause an international incident by dropping something from orbit. ¡°This feels good.¡± James said to his friends, at the end of the day. Across the field, a camraconda was gently helping to move the last of eggs into a basket with the last group of five of the creatures. A few minutes later, and they blipped away with a tiny clap of air, leaving the Order¡¯s plot of cheap land empty once again. ¡°I feel like we did a good thing.¡± ¡°That¡¯s called ¡®pride¡¯ or some shit.¡± Alanna nodded, her eyes drooping slightly. She¡¯d been awake for over a day and a half, and hadn¡¯t told anyone, but it was starting to show. ¡°You feel that way when you do good things. Dumbass.¡± ¡°I thought Pride was the one possessing the prince?¡± TQ asked. Alanna stared at the camraconda blankly. ¡°What the absolute fuck are you talking about?¡± Intercepting that conversation before it could go off the rails, James spoke up. ¡°He¡¯s making an anime reference, and I¡¯m trying to figure out if he knows that pride is also an emotion, or if he¡¯s doing the camraconda thing of capitalizing on everyone underestimating them all the time to slip jokes in.¡± He narrowed his eyes at his friend, who irised his camera eye back innocently. ¡°Yeah, he knows.¡± James said. Arrush ducked his head, looking ashamed. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The big ratroach said, shifting back and forth on his claws as he fidgeted. ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a character named Pride in Fullmetal Alchemist. It¡¯s¡­ actually, you might like that show. It¡¯s not perfect, but there¡¯s a lot of cool shit in it, philosophically speaking. Like, a lot of characters who aren¡¯t human, but that doesn¡¯t diminish their agency or validity.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s cool.¡± Alanna coughed, choking on the water she was sipping. ¡°Did you forget about the chimera thing?!¡± She asked, after she finished hacking up a lung and looked up to see everyone staring at her. ¡°Yes.¡± James admitted. ¡°Well¡­ okay then.¡± Alanna rolled her shoulders. ¡°God I¡¯m tired.¡± ¡°We are all tired.¡± TQ said. ¡°I agree.¡± ¡°I¡¯m awake.¡± Arrush softly disagreed. ¡°But am hungry.¡± ¡°Ooh, yeah, I¡¯m starving. Again.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Okay, we need to check in with¡­ uh¡­¡± He trailed off as Nate stalked across the shattered gravel lot, past the titled concrete spire of the chunk of Status Quo¡¯s prison that the Order had teleported in, and toward their group. The man glared at the piece of structure as he passed, though that might just be what his face looked like now. ¡°Hey Nate.¡± James greeted him as they were approached. Nate surveyed the empty field, nodding once. ¡°Good, you¡¯re done.¡± He said flatly. ¡°Now fuck off.¡± ¡°Buh?¡± Was about all James could think of. Alanna just snickered, her tired brain interpreting Nate¡¯s words as a particularly funny joke. ¡°Yeah, all of you. Get out of here. Go home.¡± Nate ordered them. James looked around at the people near him. ¡°What about¡­ the security thing?¡± He asked. ¡°Like, keeping an eye out for Status Quo? Dealing with our prisoner? Any of that stuff?¡± ¡°Not that it¡¯s your job, but I¡¯ve got it handled. Rotating guard shifts, camera drones and traffic feeds being watched, rogues doing some on the job training. But the part you need to give a shit about is the rotating.¡± Nate dusted his hands off. ¡°So fuck off. Go sleep, grab something to eat, have weird sex, break an economy, whatever the four of you do when you¡¯re not my problem. Because right now, you¡¯re not my problem.¡± Arrush raised two of his paws. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t care. Get out of here.¡± Nate cut him off. ¡°There¡¯s nothing incoming, we¡¯ve got the place locked down, and I can¡¯t set up an ambush if we¡¯ve got half the fucking Order here giving it away. You¡¯ll get a call tomorrow. Go home. You¡¯re not useful if you¡¯re exhausted.¡± It was hard to argue with that. James, for all that he felt like a newly reforged superhuman now that his Underburbs disease had been purged, was still getting to the edge of exhaustion. Everyone else would be feeling it too. As Nate stalked off to banish the next group of knights, James turned to the others. ¡°You guys wanna go get dinner?¡± ¡°Anesh is making food at our place.¡± Alanna said, words starting to slur slightly. ¡°Uh¡­ you two wanna come?¡± She asked Arrush and TQ. ¡°I think Keeka¡¯s already there for some reason.¡± ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got plenty of couch.¡± James added. ¡°Or we can drop you at the Lair or something?¡± He asked the camraconda, just in case his friend wasn¡¯t feeling social and wanted an out. ¡°I¡­ yes!¡± TQ perked up, the camraconda straightening slightly. ¡°I would like your dinner.¡± Alanna gnawed at her lip as she wrote their address on a telepad. ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited. Anesh is making curry, and I love that boy to death, but he¡¯s got a magically upgraded spice tolerance, and we¡¯re all going to fucking die from his food.¡± ¡°Eh.¡± James commented as he took Arrush¡¯s paw and set a hand on TQ¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯ve faced death, like, twice today already? Bring it on.¡± There was a light pop as the four of them vanished. Leaving behind a quiet farm, populated only by alert sentries, an irate prisoner, and the bright green shoots of plants growing rapidly from the trampled field that had held a few hundred rescued inhuman prisoners only a few hours ago. It had been a long day. But, James forced himself to remember, he wasn¡¯t alone. The whole point of the Order was that no one had to do it all themselves. Chapter 249 ¡°This isn¡¯t how it was supposed to be, it was supposed to be us fat, bald and useless running Wyatt Family spots in high school gyms in our 70¡¯s. Where do we go now? What do I do knowing I¡¯ll never hear your condescending sarcasm as I am riding high? I miss you so fucking much already. I would do anything just live through our worst moments again, I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re gone. I¡¯m so sorry brother. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± -Bray Wyatt¡¯s tribute to Brodie Lee- _____ There was an aroma to spicy food that James always liked. Not specifically the heat itself, though he could already tell that if he sniffed at a bowl of Anesh¡¯s curry from up close it would be eye watering, but instead the way it filled a room. The simple magic of taking plants that evolved a way to keep their consumers away, drying and chopping and brining and grinding them, and then using that defense mechanism as flavor. It was like an aura over the whole apartment that invited you in and wrapped you in warmth, even if James could sense the danger laying underneath the lid of the pot on the stove. The smoke, and subsequent smoke alarm going off, were less inviting. James blinked back the feeling of overwhelming sensory overload as he and the three people following him walked into the apartment after he¡¯d teleported them to just outside the door. Auberdeen was giving one of those non-committal howls, the wall of white fur standing perched on the edge of one of the couches and doing her best dog yell into the kitchen. Overhead, Rufus and Ganesh clung to the living room¡¯s light fixture, making their own small panicked sounds as they tried to get the ceiling fan turned on. The haze in the air from something burning and the shrill repeated tone of the smoke detector made everything feel like it had an unreal quality to it. In a straight line down the hall, Sarah was softly knocking on the door to the apartment¡¯s bathroom and calling something through the barrier that James couldn¡¯t hear. And some random woman was sitting on his couch in the stiffest, least comfortable looking posture that could be imagined. James did a double take as he realized Camille was in his apartment. Or a Camille. He wasn¡¯t sure how to think of them. It didn¡¯t matter, she was sitting on his couch, and he spied her plate armor poking out from around the arm. It wasn¡¯t that James had a huge amount of experience with Camilles of any variety, but seeing one unarmored really felt out of place. It also wasn¡¯t even close to the most important thing going on. ¡°Arrush, I think your boyfriend is having a bad time. Can you go help Sarah talk to him?¡± James asked softly, taking charge of the situation as everyone else filed in behind him in the ten seconds he spent processing the situation. ¡°Alanna, go destroy the smoke alarm.¡± The order was delivered without aplomb and with a flat aggravation in his voice. ¡°On it!¡± She sounded way too cheerful as she slid past him, hands on his shoulders while she moved into the apartment. James nodded. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go help Anesh. TQ, can you stare at Auberdeen, first normally, then magically, until she stops howling? And then, I dunno, relax. Make yourself at home.¡± ¡°Thank you. Your home is pleasant.¡± TQ lied as he slithered in past the line of shoes by the door. Arrush had already raced ahead down their apartment¡¯s hall, doing that kind of movement that was clearly in a huge hurry, but trying not to look like running. James saw a grateful look shot his way from Sarah as he nodded back at her, and then turned to slip around the corner of the counter and into his kitchen. ¡°So.¡± He leaned forward to kiss Anesh on the neck, but hesitated at how stressed his boyfriend looked, and at the hot pan he was holding and trying to find a spot for. ¡°What am I helping with?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. Go sit yourself down.¡± Anesh tried to protest, but the strain in his voice countermanded his order. ¡°Uh huh.¡± James said, slipping his hand into an oven mitt and taking the tray covered in burnt¡­ something¡­ from his boyfriend. With a precise toe and a deft flick of his wrist, he deposited the blackened discs into the garbage can, and then turned to drop the tray in the sink to cool down. ¡°Hey Camille! Do me a favor and open the porch door?¡± He called to the woman sitting on his couch as he realized the smoke wasn¡¯t fading fast enough. ¡°So, what happened?¡± He asked Anesh while moving to start cleaning up some of the stuff occupying their too-small counter space. They needed, James had a sudden thought, a green orb for counter space. Or an orange totem. Or¡­ no, those were pretty much their only options. Kind of weird, he mused, that only the Office ever gave them space warping powers. Not that he wanted to see what the Sewer could come up with; they¡¯d probably get a portal to the centipede dimension or something. Anesh sighed next to him as calm was slowly restored to the apartment. ¡°Nothing serious. Keeka was helping me and some of the naan became¡­ toast¡­¡± A palpable understatement escaped his lips. ¡°And then you showed up.¡± ¡°Oh! Well that¡¯s not too bad.¡± Anesh agreed easily. ¡°No, it¡¯s actually entirely fine. I¡¯ve even got backup naan, I¡¯m just worried about Keeka and didn¡¯t know what to do with the baking sheet.¡± He paused briefly, mouth twisting slightly. ¡°And also it¡¯s been a long day. My brain isn¡¯t at full capacity.¡± ¡°Where are the rest of you?¡± James asked. ¡°We rotated out. One of me is napping, one is in Townton.¡± ¡°There are four of you.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh.¡± Anesh looked up at the ceiling, and then shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll ask myself later. Also Ganesh get off the fan! You and Rufus! You¡¯ll hurt yourselves or others!¡± James had been thinking the same thing but felt like it would have been adding to the chaos to open with that. ¡°Okay. So, you good?¡± He asked as he turned off the sink and dried his hands. ¡°I can help out.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be exhausted? Go sit.¡± Anesh told him, more confidently this time, as he stirred the pot of simmering curry. With a small chuckle, James leaned in to successfully plant that kiss. ¡°You¡¯d think so, but actually, I feel great.¡± He said. In short order, James filled this Anesh in on what had happened earlier, how he¡¯d had the Underburbs disease he hadn¡¯t known he was carrying finally burned out of him. Anesh cut to a question that James had also had. ¡°What about Zhu?¡± He asked. ¡°He can get those too, right? Is he okay?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I don¡¯t think so. He¡­ I just kind of thought that he slept a normal amount for a navigator, but maybe¡­¡± James looked over at their living room, before realizing that at least one person was watching him, so he kept turning to stare at their refrigerator. The good old reliable appliance wouldn¡¯t judge him for the pained look on his face. ¡°I dunno. But fuck, if arcane diabetes works on infomorphs, maybe insulin will too.¡± ¡°That¡­¡± ¡°Hush. Let me dream my improbable dream.¡± James tried to laugh it off, before he felt Anesh lean against him in a hug. His boyfriend broke off the warm contact sooner than James would have liked. But, he figured, he probably smelled kinda bad. Like gunpowder and sweat and the slightly burned cinnamon of their newest refugees. Nothing too bad on its own, but James could use a shower, and he said as much out loud to Anesh. Anesh pushed him lightly out of the kitchen. ¡°Go, go, this¡¯ll be done soon and you can eat something too.¡± That sounded pretty nice to James. As he left the kitchen, he awkwardly paused in the little gap between it and the living room, and looked over his guests. ¡°Uh¡­ TQ, feel free to let Auberdeen go and relax or something. You need help up onto a couch, or¡­?¡± James trailed off as the camraconda deftly pulled his heavy form up onto the cushions. ¡°Neat. Auberdeen, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re a very good dog, but please don¡¯t howl at the smoke alarm. Rufus¡­¡± James stared at the stapler, who was slowly lowering himself down from the ceiling fan to their central table. ¡°Rufus, I don¡¯t know. Hi. How ya doing, buddy?¡± The stapler gave him a flexed shrug of his pen legs before grabbing back onto the descending chain of paperclips. ¡°Cool. Thanks for trying to help.¡± James looked at the last person, stiltedly seated at the far edge of his couch. He didn¡¯t have a clue what to say to Camille. This Camille, even. James had sort of intuited a while back that there were more copies of the sisters, probably something similar to Anesh¡¯s own situation. But the almost casual way she¡¯d informed him that the girl he¡¯d met and almost been friends with was dead, the way this one seemed partially hopeful, partially detached, it felt like James was looking at an abuse victim. A victim that he was pretty sure could kill him with a dinner plate, and was sitting on his couch. So he didn¡¯t know what to say to her right now. Instead, he offered her a small smile and nod. Tried to make her feel welcome enough that she could maybe relax. He¡¯d figure out what to say later. Figuring out what to say to Sarah was comparatively easier, as James passed her in the hall. ¡°Hey bubbly.¡± He greeted his friend. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Sarah was leaning against their laundry machine and staring at the door to the hall bathroom, an exhausted look on her face, but she still made an effort to smile at James. ¡°Hey.¡± She paused like she was trying to think of a nickname for him, but gave up. ¡°It¡¯s easy to forget about them, you know?¡± ¡°Wh- oh, the ratroaches?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Sarah nodded, a pained sadness pulling her mouth into a line. ¡°Keeka¡¯s been doing so much better, you know? He¡¯s like this little light that¡¯s finally shining through all the crud piled on his life. And then one little thing happens, and¡­¡± Sarah shrugged. ¡°You know.¡± James clicked his tongue. ¡°I do know. I also have pretty bad anxiety.¡± He said. ¡°He¡¯s physically okay, though, right?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. I think so. He let Arrush in, and I think that¡¯s helping, but I¡¯m not eavesdropping.¡± Sarah winked at him. Deciphering a wink from Sarah was an exercise in mental gymnastics that James wasn¡¯t fully equipped for at the best of times. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ yeah, okay.¡± He accepted what she¡¯d said at face value, and looked over at the closed door to their hall bathroom. ¡°Let him know we¡¯ve got extra bread, and no one¡¯s mad, yeah?¡± James said. ¡°Because that always helps people having anxiety attacks?¡± Sarah asked him slyly. It was the closest James ever felt to being eviscerated by his friend, and he found the words hilarious for some reason. Grinning back at her, he nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Exactly. Facts and logic are exactly what someone who¡¯s panicking needs to hear. Try to be really condescending while you say it!¡± ¡°Get out of here you rapscallion.¡± Sarah softly kicked at his shins, her socks sliding off the greave that James still hadn¡¯t taken off. He was laughing as he pushed open the door to his shared bedroom and headed for his own bathroom. The shower was already running, which he knew must be Alanna having beaten him to it, but James wasn¡¯t too worried. His girlfriend showered fast, and was a mild coward about hot water, so there¡¯d be plenty left for him. Stripping off the bits of armor that he was still wearing, and piling the assorted magic items on top of the stack Alanna had left on one of their nightstands, James started to feel lighter and lighter. It wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t move when he was covered in the gear, but¡­ he hadn¡¯t really considered how it all added up. Four shield bracers, one of the metal plated greaves strapped on his shin, a glove, a bracelet, an earring, nothing onerous on its own. Just¡­ all the things they¡¯d looted from the last Status Quo, turned into an armory. There wasn¡¯t even that much from other places; most of his magic from the Office or Sewer or Attic was internal. Except his shirt. He still wasn¡¯t sure what it did, or if JP had just been trying to make him more fashionable. But he added it to the pile, grimacing as he looked down at his own chest and saw all the bruises on his skin. James might not have gotten shot, or even in much of a fight today. But he was still running around and getting into trouble while he was supposed to be healing from a bunch of older injuries. It had been weeks and he still wasn¡¯t fully recovered from everything that had happened in the Underburb, and it wasn¡¯t like James had been taking it easy since then. While he was staring at his arms, and trying to remember at what stage bruises turned into those yellow blotches, he noticed a thin layer of orange light starting to rise out of one of his limbs. ¡°Hey Zhu.¡± James muttered as he stood at the foot of his bed. He didn¡¯t want to sit down, because he felt like any contact with the surface would make the blankets unquestionably dirtier right now. ¡°How¡¯d you sleep?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± The orange glow solidified around James¡¯ neck and shoulder, ¡°think I was dreaming.¡± ¡°Neat.¡± ¡°It has never happened before.¡± ¡°Okay. Is it¡­ is that bad? Wait, you¡¯ve been in my dreams.¡± James prompted an explanation. Zhu shivered, dusty feathers and cornea taking shape. ¡°You have been in the living room when it is rearranged for anime night.¡± The navigator countered. ¡°This was different. I didn¡¯t like it.¡± James looked up, staring at the far wall of his shared room. It wasn¡¯t that far away; the bed he was at the foot of didn¡¯t leave much space for more than walking past, but he still stared at it. He¡¯d been meaning to hang something there for a while, and was pretty sure Anesh wanted it decorated too. He should ask Alanna in a minute. He should also pull himself together, he thought. ¡°You had a nightmare?¡± He practically whispered to his friend. ¡°What about?¡± There was a stirring from the manifested infomorph, and a tightness that James could feel almost radiating. Zhu kept silent for a while, the only noise was of the apartment¡¯s air conditioning doing its job, and the water from the shower in the adjoining bathroom. When he started talking, it came out wrong, words crackling like static on an old radio, short gasps of a dying engine before silence again. It reminded James of a painfully familiar anxiety. ¡°You don¡¯t-¡° he tried to tell Zhu. Tried to say that it was okay to take his time, or to not speak at all. He didn¡¯t get far in that attempt. ¡°Everything.¡± Zhu said. ¡°Or, nothing. I was dragging you somewhere, but you were¡­¡± his voice dissolved into static again before his feathers rippled and multiplied; like gathering strength or taking a breath maybe. ¡°You¡¯d been dead a long time. But I was taking you places. I think we killed a lot of people, and it never stopped. Just¡­¡± he was trembling against James¡¯s exposed skin. ¡°I felt like I had no control.¡± ¡°Nightmare.¡± James muttered. Zhu fluttered. ¡°Just like yesterday.¡± He softly added. James tried to be lighthearted. ¡°To be fair, I¡¯m not dead.¡± He said. It didn¡¯t come out well. Zhu didn¡¯t react, except to sag against him. James had been trying to bolster his companion, but failed miserably. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s try this again. Still not mad at you, personally, but yeah, there¡¯s gonna be some bad dreams.¡± He breathed deeply of the cool apartment air, the familiar smell of the bedroom helping put him at ease. ¡°There¡¯s never not going to be bad dreams for us. But that¡¯s all they have to be.¡± ¡°I am part dream.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice sounded on the edge of frantic snapping. ¡°So am I.¡± James said. ¡°Maybe not as literally, but still. My dreams are part of me, and yours are part of you, and sometimes they suck. But afterward, I¡¯ll be here for you, okay?¡± James caught Zhu¡¯s manifested claw in his opposite hand. ¡°Even if you want out of all the danger, if you wanna go live with someone else, if we end up getting pissed at each other or something. I¡¯ll still be here if you need me.¡± From the adjoining room, the sound of running water cut off, and James glanced at the bathroom door. ¡°Also sounds like I get to trade with Alanna. So unless you want-¡° Zhu vanished into his skin, the orange feathers sinking back into him like his body was a pond, though thankfully without any ripples. The bathroom door opened just as James was halfway into an amused laugh to himself, and Alanna came out drying herself off. ¡°Oy. Move your butt, I need to get to the closet.¡± ¡°That closet?¡± James pointed behind her. ¡°No, the secret bonus closet.¡± Alanna slid past him, brushing against him and getting James damp while the two of them deciding to go for a casual kiss at the same moment. ¡°The closet you, specifically, keep forgetting about.¡± ¡°Oh yeah! That closet!¡± James glanced at the door that led to what should be the laundry machine, but instead held Alanna¡¯s dresser. ¡°Weird. Okay, well, I¡¯m gonna shower, and then come join everyone. Let them know I¡¯m not dead.¡± Shimmying into a pair of polka dot sweatpants, Alanna flashed him a smile. ¡°Can do. I guess everything¡¯s going fine, if you¡¯re in here and half undressed?¡± ¡°Eh.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sorta out of focus, even if I feel great. So maybe I missed a cue about Auberdeen planning to murder everyone or something. But I think it¡¯s fine.¡± He stepped through the bathroom door, blowing Alanna another kiss before tripping over her discarded clothes, armor, and apparently backup orbs. [+1 Skill Rank : Bureaucracy - Indian - Construction Permits] [Problem Solved : Laundry] The pile of clothes vanished before James could accidentally pop another blue orb by stepping on it, but that just caused him to stumble forward slightly. He let out a soft yelp, before catching himself, and shaking his head rapidly as he tried to figure out what just happened. Briefly, once he figured it out, he considered calling through the door to Alanna about it. But while he was still feeling the aftereffects of losing his longest running dungeon disease, he didn¡¯t feel like socializing at the moment. So he let it go, assumed Alanna¡¯s pants were properly washed and folded in the secret closet somewhere, hoped it had jump scared her as petty revenge, and turned on the shower with a smirk. The hot water of the shower - and there was plenty left for him - hit him like a waterfall. Heat and pressure soothing his skin, and pulling his racing and unfocused thoughts away from the latest batch of horrors he¡¯d thrown himself into. For just a moment, James felt nothing except warmth, and it was fantastic. Then he started trying to process everything that had happened to him today, and sort through what he could have done better. Was attacking Status Quo the right call? It was the biggest question on his mind. In retrospect, he could easily say yes. Lots of people had gotten hurt, but no one from the Order had died. They¡¯d barely even scored any kills, technically, even though at least a chunk of Status Quo was dead. James didn¡¯t actually want to kill anyone. He¡¯d be content removing their ability to do harm and make war. Though he knew that was infeasible, in some cases. There was only so far that mercy went when it came to actual monsters. The harder thing to process was the knowledge of new pillars. Blitzkrieg, apparently, he¡¯d met before. He took a moment to try to write over the new name on top of the moniker of ¡°Old Gun¡± that he¡¯d given the creature after they¡¯d first met. It¡¯d be a while before he got it perfect, but it was important, because James was pretty sure their names actually defined them in a worrying way. He wasn¡¯t clear on how, exactly; if it was a literal imposition on reality, or if it was just a strong compulsion. But there was a worrying amount of evidence that they needed to be what they were. Also the Chain Breaker had name dropped something that translated to, near as James could tell, ¡°Necessary Evil¡±. Which was, in a word, concerning. Though she also came across as a little unstable, and while James wasn¡¯t convinced it wasn¡¯t all an act, it was hard to deny that she had tried to murder a lot of people to set them free. People. People like the¡­ he didn¡¯t have any idea what to call them. Chanters, maybe? That was the fragment of an idea that he¡¯d picked up from merging his mind with one of them, the concept for sharing emotion filtered through his human language. They were people, too, though so broken down and neglected that they might never actually have fulfilling lives. But they had eggs. They would have children, who would be raised by the Order; by people who would care, and love them, and try to understand them, and, James swore, never treat them like a bundle of experience points. He was still experiencing the despair that his ¡®conversation¡¯ partner had been living inside of. Still was, probably. James, being unconscious, had missed the worst of the chanter¡¯s screaming projection of emotion, but he had seen how brittle Alanna¡¯s careful expression was back at the farm. Her smiling at him now had felt good, but he knew she was probably going to remember it for a long time. He certainly was. It was hard to just shrug and shake off that much pain. At least for him. Humans did it all the time; there was no shortage of despair, poverty, hunger, pain, and exploitation in the world. And it was really easy to ignore it when it was far away and abstract. But James had known people personally who had been able to not even need to ignore it, because they just didn¡¯t care. Or though that anyone suffering deserved it for some reason. And he didn¡¯t think even those assholes would be able to hear the field of shelled refugees screaming for the first time in their brutal lives and not feel something. The hot water was running out as James reached a decision. Maybe, maybe, it was a reckless choice to send the Order in force today. Maybe they should have stood back and done nothing, and played it safe. Maybe, in the future, it wouldn¡¯t pay off, or they wouldn¡¯t be strong enough, or something would go wrong. But today, they¡¯d saved people. Again. And he¡¯d keep making the choice that let him do that, over and over and over, until he could take everyone in the world and hold them under his banner and give them the future they should have. Aspirational, maybe. Stupid, possibly. But what was James supposed to do? Sit on all his power and strength and pretend he was better than everyone else, afraid to act in case he lost it all? That seemed like waste. Worse, that seemed like just being an asshole. He was feeling a lot better, lingering despair or no, as he dried himself off and got dressed. James had made choices, and they¡¯d paid off. Even if the reward was more responsibilities, what of it? He was planning on being responsible for quite a lot. Or at least, finding smarter people than him to be responsible for quite a lot. Apparently Karen had okayed a budget for hiring, and they were looking into getting startup groups for dungeontech engineering, teleportation shipping, and¡­ something else he couldn¡¯t remember without his skulljack to let him access the Order¡¯s internal wiki at a moment¡¯s notice. So what was one more species that needed the Order¡¯s help. That was what they did. They stole from the dungeons, and used it to help, and sometimes they stole people from the dungeon, and helped them too. Despite being tempted by quick answers to statistics, and wanting to look up a list of Order casualties so James knew who had gotten hurt and how, he left his skulljack braid in a tangle on the nightstand as he left his room, and headed back out to the living room. Feeling refreshed, and cleaned off of the sweat, dirt, blood, and most of the smell of gunpowder from the day, he strode in to see how things had gone in the half hour he¡¯d been standing under the showerhead. Things were certainly calmer, now. Auberdeen was sulking under the table, Rufus and Ganesh were helping to stir whatever nuclear curry Anesh was making, and Alanna and Sarah were trying to look like they weren¡¯t cuddling on the second couch. They weren¡¯t trying very hard though. ¡°-only two days old or so.¡± Anesh was saying. ¡°So it¡¯s not that bad?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Arrush said, nodding slowly. ¡°So¡­ the younger someone is when you kill them, the better?¡± James stretched, feeling aches in his muscles like a comfortable fire as he leaned on the arm of the larger couche next to TQ¡¯s head. ¡°What¡¯d I miss?¡± The camraconda twisted around to look up at James, face only a few inches away as he balanced comfortably on his own coil. ¡°They are arguing about Anesh¡¯s copies.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Anesh, meanwhile, had processed what Arrush had said, and tried frantically to backtrack. ¡°Alright, no. No. That¡¯s not¡­ what I meant.¡± He tried to think of a better reason. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ there¡¯s backups of my experiences. So it¡¯s not as much of a loss?¡± Arrush nodded again, though the ratroach looked like he wasn¡¯t sure what he was agreeing to. ¡°So killing someone who has fewer unique experiences is better.¡± He concluded slowly. ¡°So if you were forced to kill someone, a human baby would be best?¡± The question came out cautiously, and James realized that he wasn¡¯t the only one watching in horrified fascination as this entire thing blew up in Anesh¡¯s face. ¡°No!¡± Anesh crossed his hands in an X. ¡°That would be bad! Because¡­ I don¡¯t know! But don¡¯t do that!¡± ¡°Yes, killing is bad.¡± Arrush agreed. ¡°But less bad to kill a baby. Because they are younger, and aren¡¯t as special. Like your copies. Right?¡± ¡°I regret this immensely. James, help!¡± Anesh demanded of his boyfriend. ¡°Alanna and Sarah are just laughing at me!¡± They weren¡¯t the only ones, either. Keeka was hiding behind the couch, but James could see the sleeker ratroach smothering his giggles into one of their couch pillows. James grinned, only faltering for a second as TQ bumped into his arm and leaned into him. ¡°I dunno, I¡¯m learning a lot from this.¡± ¡°Please, bloody hell, stop learning from this.¡± Anesh offered a strained plea. ¡°I just wanted to explain my duplicates!¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°I thought we¡¯d established that your duplicates were whole people who deserved life, just like everyone else.¡± Alanna threw out from underneath a curled up Sarah. ¡°Like, they are just you. And I don¡¯t really want you to die? I kinda like you.¡± ¡°Our bed would be awkward if you didn¡¯t.¡± Anesh fired back, getting in a retort in way that was rare for him when it came to their relationship. ¡°If we have to have this chat, I¡¯d say that it¡¯s different because I can consent to being¡­ expendable¡­ and a baby can¡¯t? And consent matters.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Arrush sighed, and James could see some of the strained muscles on the ratroach relax slightly. ¡°Yes. Consent is good. I¡¯ve been learning about that. That makes sense. Thank you.¡± ¡°If I tell you all that food is ready, can this stop?¡± Anesh begged. A chorus of hungry voices and one eager woof met him, and he nodded calmly. Giving his creation one last check, and dismissing Rufus and Ganesh from their stirring job, Anesh started to turn the stack of bowls into portions of food that he handed over to James, and from there, to the rest of the room. After setting a dish in front of TQ and flipping a spoon around to let the camraconda grab it in one of his mechanical arms, James looked past him to the other end of the couch with a frown. ¡°Cam, do you want one? Actually not sure if you eat. Also not sure if you want to be called Cam, or Camille, or¡­¡± The silent woman who was lurking in the corner of the room spoke with a voice that sounded more rote than anything else. ¡°Eating is a requirement, but only for nutrition, not enjoyment.¡± Though her blank look at James faltered slightly and she looked down a tiny fraction. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what you call me anymore.¡± ¡°Cam it is then.¡± James refused to let this get him down. Not now. Not today. He passed the next bowl of curry to her through Arrush, who had stolen the spot in the middle of the couch. She looked at the food in front of her like her danger sense was triggering off it, but did tentatively pick up the slice of flat bread embedded in it, and carefully started nibbling. ¡°Who¡¯s next!¡± James asked declaratively. Or perhaps as a threat. Dinner went by without too much conversation. Unless you counted the strained coughs and tortured squeaks as everyone tasted Anesh¡¯s work and realized just how devoted to making his food spicy he was. Alanna and James ate with ravenous appetites, but still felt their tongues and lips starting to sting. Sarah poked at her smaller portion like she was afraid it was going to lunge at her, while the lightly humming motors of TQ¡¯s extra arms cautiously let him sample the new meal. Camille ate mechanically, her face unmoving. Next to her, Arrush held his bowl close, eschewing the table to keep it near his face and eating spoonfuls at a rapid pace as corrosive tears formed in the corners of his myriad eyes. His boyfriend behind the couch took one bite, gasped out a squeal of alarm, and then held the bowl up over the edge to be removed from his presence, which Arrush did eagerly. Keeka kept the naan though. Auberdeen had to eat in the kitchen, on the tile, so she didn¡¯t get curry into their carpet. James wasn¡¯t sure if dogs could even experience spiciness, but she seemed to be loving it. Maybe it was the chicken. ¡°Anesh.¡± Sarah said as everyone else was halfway through their meals. ¡°I love you.¡± ¡°Oh! I know this one!¡± TQ exclaimed as he scraped his fangs along the large spoon he was using, digital voice unimpeded. ¡°A polite statement before you say something rude.¡± Sarah ignored James leaning on the kitchen counter and laughing, and instead focused on Anesh. ¡°But.¡± She added, and TQ bobbed in satisfaction to himself at having deduced another human mannerism. ¡°This is a personal attack.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just curry¡­¡± Arrush came to Anesh¡¯s rescue before Sarah could say anything. ¡°I¡­ like it.¡± The big ratroach said, multiple shoulders curled forward as he tried to relax on the couch. He¡¯d taken off most of his armor, but hadn¡¯t completely dropped his guard with the new person in the room. ¡°It hurts!¡± Keeka said, briefly taking his mouth off the straw that was plunged into a glass of milk James had passed him. ¡°Why do you like it!¡± ¡°Oh. I can¡¯t tell.¡± Arrush said sadly. ¡°I¡­¡± he trailed off, and his boyfriend popped up from behind the couch to give him a reassuring hug. Arms enfolding him from behind while Keeka whispered something in his offset ear. James looked back at Sarah and smiled slightly. ¡°Yeah, I was wondering how bad this would be. I like it, but I¡¯m sure we¡¯re gonna suffer later.¡± He scraped a last spoonful of the thick gold liquid out of his bowl and finished his dinner. It still burned, but he was becoming numb to it. ¡°Anesh, I also love you, but you¡¯ve gotta remember you¡¯re better at spice tolerance than all of us put together.¡± He glanced at the end of his couch again. ¡°Except maybe Cam.¡± ¡°Hey, the magic isn¡¯t that much.¡± Anesh protested, folding his arms and offering a weak defense. ¡°I don¡¯t think this has a lot to do with the magic, and more to do with you using your mom¡¯s secret recipe as a starting point instead of an aspirational goal.¡± James countered. ¡°But also, it was very good, and thank you.¡± He sighed as he started collecting dishes, even this simple action feeling good to perform. He¡¯d eaten without getting tired, and it was amazing how good it felt to not have that lingering ailment, even if he hadn¡¯t noticed it that much to begin with. ¡°So¡­¡± Alanna asked after Sarah had exfiltrated from their shared seat and was helping James with dishes. ¡°Are we gonna talk about this?¡± She pointed over at Camille. Camille just looked at her, still sitting like she was in her armor. James considered that maybe, given how she¡¯d talked about her sisters, she was in her armor all the time. Maybe literally. And wasn¡¯t that just the most depressing thought. But she¡¯d taken it off here without complaint, as far as he knew. ¡°I will talk about this.¡± TQ said, irising his camera lens eye at the outsider in the apartment. It struck James as kind of amusing that TQ, who had never been here before, felt like a comfortable and familiar part of his home and his life when contrasted with the pale skinned and stony faced woman that none of them knew. The camraconda had gotten the perfect day to visit, really. Sarah came out of the kitchen along with Anesh, drying off her hands on a dish towel. ¡°I won¡¯t! Auberdeen needs a walk, and that means pretending to be a chaperone!¡± Auberdeen gave a low and vibrant woof in response. ¡°Because I don¡¯t think animal control would check her student ID. Sadly!¡± From behind the couch, Keeka leaned forward to whisper to Arrush, and the bigger ratroach tilted his triangular face toward Sarah. ¡°Can we¡­?¡± ¡°Sure!¡± She exclaimed without consideration, twirling a magnetized stick in the air next to her thigh with tiny flicks of her hand. Auberdeen stared at the rotating wood with the kind of singular focus that only dogs and excitable children could really bring to the field of pieces of wood. ¡°Anesh?¡± ¡°Sleeping. Like you should too. We¡¯re gonna have a long day tomorrow.¡± Anesh said with a quiet voice. ¡°We¡¯re¡­ this feels odd.¡± He admitted. ¡°This whole night. We¡¯re sitting here eating and chatting, and there¡¯s people out there who need our help, and people who might try to kill us, and¡­¡± He shrugged helplessly. James slipped behind his boyfriend, placing his hands on Anesh¡¯s shoulders and giving him a firm rub through his shirt. ¡°That¡¯s every day.¡± James told him. ¡°It¡¯s just a little closer right now.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± James laughed briefly. ¡°Okay, well, Nate was still right. We¡¯re useless if we¡¯re exhausted. We¡¯ll do better work when we¡¯re a little recharged, so go sleep, and we¡¯ll talk, and tomorrow, we¡¯ll dive back into everything.¡± He kissed Anesh¡¯s neck, getting a twitch out of his partner as Anesh twisted away at the ticklish contact. ¡°Go sleep, I¡¯ll clean up later. Thanks for dinner!¡± The living room quickly emptied, everyone else giving Anesh varying levels of thanks for the food, depending on their tolerance for feeling their insides burning. After the front door shut, with Arrush and Keeka following the others out into the night to try going on a simple walk, James turned his focus back to the quietest person in the room. ¡°Okay, Cam.¡± He said softly, settling in next to Alanna on the other side of the table from his guest. ¡°I¡¯ve got some questions.¡± ¡°I will answer what I can.¡± She said simply. ¡°Interrogation won¡¯t be required.¡± James blinked. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ no, we don¡¯t¡­ do that?¡± He looked over at Alanna. ¡°I mean, we kinda do that. But we¡¯re not gonna fucking torture you.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Camille said. And then, with a simple word that broke James¡¯ heart, asked, ¡°Why?¡± TQ folded the thin mechanical arms back against his backpack, and coiled on the couch. ¡°Torture is ineffective on humans, practically. Possibly also on many other species as well, we haven¡¯t tested.¡± ¡°And won¡¯t, either.¡± Alanna narrowed her eyes at TQ slightly. ¡°Because¡­? ¡°Oh, also because it is wrong.¡± The camraconda¡¯s digital voice probably sounded more sarcastic than he meant it. James decided to derail that particular potential argument and push it off to a later date. ¡°No torture, regardless!¡± He said. ¡°Cam¡­ holy shit, I don¡¯t know what to even start with here.¡± He slumped back in his seat, staring at the poster on the wall over her head. She seemed¡­ not calm, exactly. Not at ease. But uninvested, almost uncaring, of anything around her. It felt like the opposite of telling someone about magic being real; she knew, James just needed her to tell him. ¡°No, wait. I do. What¡­ what happened to your sister? The one Anesh and I met. The one who told you about us.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Camille¡¯s eyes shifted downward, and Alanna glanced at James with raised eyebrows as the woman showed a sliver of emotion. ¡°She died.¡± She said. They waited. And then, when no details were forthcoming, James asked. ¡°How, though? Why? Was it on purpose, or just¡­¡± He spread his hands, not knowing how to ask if someone had been killed by sheer bad luck. ¡°Conflict with the Chain Breaker has been spilling out for some time now.¡± Camille said quietly. ¡°She isn¡¯t holding back anymore. But the true forms, the pillars, they have limits that we don¡¯t. Violets and ochres are sent to her operational sites to drain her motivation, and her flexibility.¡± James stared at her as the pieces bounced around in his brain, trying to click together. But it was Alanna who spoke up. ¡°You mean you¡¯re sent in to die.¡± Her voice was horrified. ¡°Because she doesn¡¯t actually believe she¡¯s freeing you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s unclear how much belief matters.¡± Camille replied, still looking at the table and not at them. ¡°Or if it does. Some of the other azures have left notes.¡± ¡°Is there only ever one of each color at a time?¡± James asked. ¡°Yes. I had thought it was for practical reasons; that our father could only invest so many pieces of his power. But now, with what you said to me about my sister¡¯s¡­ remains¡­ I am less sure.¡± Camille looked up. ¡°I am not sure of anything.¡± Her voice cracked. James felt an urge to reach out to her, but tempered it with cautious suspicion. ¡°Why us?¡± ¡°Because the violet told me about you.¡± She said. ¡°That you let her be heroic. We¡¯re not supposed to be heroic. Our father disapproves. We are weapons, not saviors.¡± TQ¡¯s camera eye whirred as he narrowed it to a pinpoint staring at her. ¡°Your father is the Last Line. But you do not mean father like humans mean father.¡± He stated. Camille turned slightly to look at him, a momentary confusion crossing her eyes as she looked back at James. Like she wasn¡¯t sure what to do in this situation at all, the tiny emote speaking volumes from the otherwise blank woman. TQ continued. ¡°Your sisters are all the same person. Replicated, or cloned, or grown. Did he ever act as a father should?¡± Camille couldn¡¯t ignore the direct question, though she still looked uncomfortable with the camraconda. ¡°Yes. Of course. He trained us. Gave us strength. All the things that-¡° ¡°Oh, no.¡± Alanna¡¯s breathy exclamation cut Camille off. ¡°No, girl, that¡¯s not¡­¡± She sagged back in her seat, looking with pity at Cam. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ James, help me out here.¡± ¡°Lloyd - oh, we call your dad Lloyd - treated you like a weapon. Like you said. And Cam, you¡¯ve gotta know, that¡¯s not normal. That¡¯s not okay. You¡¯re enough of a person that you wanted to be free, you know something is wrong. Don¡¯t you?¡± James trailed off quietly. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t you?¡± She stared at them, and then blinked abruptly before whipping her head to look out the balcony. ¡°I do.¡± Her voice was choked. ¡°Of course I do. But what was I supposed to do? Azures always run, and then we die, and then new azures are made.¡± Camille¡¯s fists clenched against the couch cushions. ¡°I had to try something. But he is still¡­ our father.¡± ¡°And a monster.¡± TQ added simply. ¡°He keeps the world alive.¡± Camille said. ¡°They all do. They¡¯re required, or else¡­¡± she shuddered, real fear showing through. James frowned as the words hit him. ¡°Just or else? No specifics?¡± He asked, and got a shrug in response. ¡°Ominous. I¡¯m filing that under ¡®probably bullshit¡¯ for now. I somehow doubt the world needs a Blitzkrieg in it. Especially since¡­ okay, actually, fill something in for me. Are there ever new pillars?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Cam said with a nod. ¡°Rarely. Replacements, my old sister¡¯s records indicate. And I agree.¡± She spoke easier when it was a topic she had a firm and emotionless answer to. Alanna gave James an agreeing nod. ¡°Ah, because Blitzkrieg is new, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, they all are, technically. We haven¡¯t heard one in a non-contemporary language. And the language seems to really matter, for some reason. So none of them can actually be that old.¡± James reasoned, and got no argument. ¡°Look, this doesn¡¯t matter too much, we can get into it later, and we¡¯ll have so many more questions. Right now, there¡¯s just two things that¡¯re important that I want to ask.¡± ¡°Ask, then.¡± Camille invited. ¡°If I use that little flame from what¡¯s left of your sister, does it link me to Lloyd in any way?¡± James asked. ¡°Is that power conditional, or dangerous?¡± Cam thought about it, before slowly shaking her head. ¡°No¡­¡± She answered, though her eyes were narrowed in thought as she did. ¡°Normally he retrieves them. For the next sister in that line. But not this one.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think he can, if we¡¯re holding it.¡± Alanna mused. ¡°That thing you said about messing with the Chain Breaker by dying to her? It¡¯s probably that. Lloyd isn¡¯t protecting shit by taking power away from people protecting shit. So he can¡¯t just grab it from us without some weird abstract cost.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Or at least, that¡¯s my guess. You got any insider knowledge?¡± Alanna cocked an eyebrow at James. ¡°Why would I¡­?¡± ¡°Because you seem to know how novel magics work far too easily.¡± TQ told him. ¡°It is actually impressive.¡± The camraconda tilted his body sideways, facing James at an angle as he talked. James rolled his eyes. ¡°I know so little, don¡¯t pretend I¡¯m some kind of oracle. But nah, I¡¯m with Alanna on this. Probably.¡± He set the little pouch with the pale flame in it on the table, but didn¡¯t open it. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind though. Anyway, second question.¡± James tried to keep his face neutral as he asked. ¡°Cam, what do you want?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± She said instantly. ¡°You¡¯re running. You found us, maybe by accident, maybe by some weird fate, but you found us. And you¡¯re here, sitting in my apartment, without your armor, eating my boyfriend¡¯s curry and pretending it¡¯s not making you want to cry.¡± James pointedly did not mention that he himself was kind of a wuss for spicy food and had, in fact, been in immense pain while having dinner. ¡°You¡¯re here, so now, what do you want?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Cam stopped, and just stared at him. After a few seconds, Alanna leaned over and whispered to James. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually seen someone panic this thoroughly before. And that¡¯s impressive because I¡¯ve flirted with you and Anesh.¡± James also frowned in concern. ¡°Yeah, TQ, are you¡­¡± He glanced sideways at the camraconda, who just gave a weaving shake of his head back. ¡°Okay. Cam, you okay?¡± He softly asked. ¡°No.¡± The answer was curt, to the point, and not what anyone wanted to hear. ¡°¡­do you want some time to think?¡± ¡°I would.¡± Camille said, pushing off the couch like she was angry at the concept of soft things. She eyed her armor, but ultimately turned her head away and moved to the patio door, sliding the screen open and stepping out into the night. She didn¡¯t close it behind her, which James assumed was from a lived experience of being utterly impervious to mosquitos. ¡°I will return when I am ready.¡± She said. Alanna raised a hand with her index finger extended. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s not the way-¡° she stopped talking as Cam placed a hand on the railing and vaulted off their balcony like the motion took no effort at all, dropping out of sight and landing with an audible whump on the barkdust below. ¡°Okay sure.¡± Alanna stared at the open door, too tired to get up and close it. ¡°Is it just me or is there a weird parallel in us adopting her along with the bugs?¡± ¡°I¡¯m calling them chanters in my head.¡± James said, easily shifting to the new conversation. ¡°Also man, if I could get out of awkward questions by dropping off a balcony, I¡¯d have been doing that for my whole life.¡± He stood and went over to step out onto the balcony, looking down at their apartment¡¯s parking lot. A familiar sight of cars, including Anesh¡¯s old ride that they hadn¡¯t really used much lately; it was one of those sights that made him feel like he was an outsider for a brief moment. Looking at what was normal for everyone else, and now just not a part of his life. Everyone here had lives, jobs or classes or family that they needed those cars to get to, and James was just teleporting to dungeon sites every day. He shook it off. Camille was already out of sight, wherever she¡¯d run off to, and they¡¯d just have to hope that she was serious that she¡¯d come back. As James reentered the apartment, getting away from the night air that was just a bit too cool for him to be comfortable without it crossing the into cold, TQ spoke up. ¡°I know I¡¯m new here.¡± He stated. ¡°But that was strange, yes?¡± ¡°Oh hell yes.¡± Alanna answered instantly. ¡°Also, buddy?¡± She addressed James with a concerned look plastered on her face, ¡°We cannot trust anything she said.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s lying to us.¡± James answered. Alanna shook her head. ¡°No, she¡¯s probably not. But she¡¯s not sure about fucking anything, and I don¡¯t want us writing up engagement strats for her dad based on stuff her dead predecessors might have written down, you know?¡± She sighed and leaned back, kicking her feet up on the table at a high angle as she did. ¡°She¡¯ll be back, because the lost lambs you collect like Pok¨¦mon always come back, but-¡° ¡°Okay that¡¯s hardly fair. Also I thought we agreed Pokemon was creepy.¡± ¡°I could be a Pokemon.¡± TQ stated. ¡°What would I evolve into? A studio rig?¡± James stared at his friend. ¡°I¡­ want to let you take control of this conversation, but I also really want to ask what we should actually do about her.¡± He sighed. ¡°She¡¯s obviously strong, obviously a useful person to have around. But even if she just wants to sit in the basement with Keeka listening to my old Zebrahead albums and sleeping eighteen hours a day, I still think we should help her. I just don¡¯t know if we should be preparing for anyone to come after her.¡± He frowned, and reached out to the table to grab the little bag he¡¯d set there, opening it up and upending it to spill a pale ball of flame onto the surface, heatless fire continuing to ripple. ¡°Her, or this.¡± ¡°Eat it.¡± TQ suggested. ¡°Now.¡± The camraconda leaned forward, settling his head on the opposite side of the table, camera eye staring at the loot drop in a way James wasn¡¯t sure how to interpret. ¡°There are two outcomes.¡± He said simply. ¡°Either it has a downside or it doesn¡¯t, and if it does, the only way to know is to use it, and you would feel guilt and regret making someone else use it. Though I would eat it if you won¡¯t. If the Line wants it back, he has not taken it, so eating it would likely change nothing. If he doesn¡¯t, it doesn¡¯t matter. If it hampers his ability to make new Camilles, good. If not, it doesn¡¯t matter. The worst case is it makes an enemy out of someone who tried to hurt the Order of Endless Rooms already. Which is not a worst case. That is just how things feel all the time. Waiting earns nothing except less time to learn what it does.¡± TQ continued to stare at the flame. ¡°Also it looks pretty.¡± He added. ¡°Unrelated.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the most I¡¯ve ever heard you say at once.¡± James raised his eyebrows. Alanna cleared her throat. ¡°Not that I¡¯m against you getting more abs, but-¡° ¡°I do not have abs, don¡¯t lie to people.¡± ¡°-but, I thought you didn¡¯t want to be a demigod or anything. I know you¡¯re taking the paladin thing seriously right now, but are you okay with this?¡± James looked down at the ball of white flame, matching TQ and Alanna¡¯s stares. He sighed deeply. ¡°I do, though.¡± He muttered. Alanna glanced at him, and he spoke up. ¡°I do want to be a demigod, or something like it. I just don¡¯t want to be alone. I want to be a ball of magic, hard to kill, full of tricks, with a million perks for day to day life. And I want to be normal.¡± James gave a sheepish smile as he shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a little bit ahead of the pack right now, but I expect everyone in the Order to catch up to me. And eventually everyone on Earth. I have no fucking idea how, don¡¯t ask me questions like that. But it¡¯s not the power that bothers me. It¡¯s being the only one with it.¡± ¡°Are you going to eat this or not?¡± TQ asked him pointedly. James reached out. His hand hovering over the strange new piece of magic. It was really tempting. What was it, exactly? Cam hadn¡¯t said; she¡¯d seemed reluctant to talk about the thing at all. Maybe she didn¡¯t know, exactly. James, for his part, was curious how much of the copied sister¡¯s powers were from this, and how much was from their armor, or maybe from the Last Line Of Defense directly. He was pretty sure if Lloyd was giving them bits of his own power, it wouldn¡¯t look like a dungeon drop. Which, mixed with what Cam had said, made this really tempting. Power, free and clear. A little extra. What would it contain? Some of their durability? The Chain Breaker had sliced the woman in half, but before that, she¡¯d been walking off bullets like they were rain. One of their senses? The newest Camille had alluded to some kind of fortune sense, and the violet that James had known in Townton had said she had an assault sense. Both of those would be welcome, though this was probably something different. Maybe it would be something entirely unorthodox, something he had no idea about. Either way, it would be a new addition to his arsenal. He doubted that Lloyd would give his ¡°daughters¡± anything that wouldn¡¯t make them more effective combatants. So why was he hesitating? ¡°So¡­¡± Alanna prompted him, interrupting his quiet thoughts. James just kept staring at the flame. Trying to figure out why it felt wrong. Why he couldn¡¯t articulate that he didn¡¯t want to, as TQ so eloquently put it, ¡®eat that¡¯. Because by all rights, he should, right? He was being better about accepting the tools that let him do his job, and his job was occasionally dangerous. But it was also important, to keep people alive and safe and healthy and happy. He was needed, in a way that was maybe a little overdramatic, but did genuinely require him to be prepared for a lot of stuff. Which meant taking opportunities like this. Like this loot drop, this fragment of dungeon power, left behind by one of the more dangerous people that the Order had seen that still counted as ¡°probably human¡±. Abruptly, James let his hand fall to the small cloth bag, which he swept over the ball of pale flame. Scooping up the piece of power, he pulled the drawstring, and carefully set it up on the shelf behind the couch. ¡°So, no then.¡± TQ commented, watching James curiously. Alanna ran a hand through her hair, overly sharp fingernails carving apart a tangle she encountered in her bangs. ¡°Do we get to know why?¡± She sounded a little annoyed at him. ¡°Camille.¡± James said softly. ¡°The one who jumped off our porch, or¡­?¡± Alanna sounded like she was gearing up to start an argument with her boyfriend. But then James shook his head at her, and she abruptly felt the sad determination that was rolling off him like a fog. James covered it with a thin smile. ¡°Her name was Camille.¡± He said. ¡°And we have a place for her, downstairs.¡± ¡°James¡­¡± Alanna took a deep breath. He met her eyes, confidence in his choice coming in strong now. ¡°No.¡± He said simply. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter that she might have been our enemy. It doesn¡¯t matter that she wasn¡¯t one of us. The whole point is that everyone deserves life, and we don¡¯t know if the loot drops are a path to reviving people.¡± James nodded to himself. ¡°We can¡¯t just turn what¡¯s left of her into a resource, just because we didn¡¯t know her. Harvesting organs from enemy combatants isn¡¯t okay, and neither is this.¡± TQ hissed at him. ¡°A slight hypocrisy.¡± He spoke as he got their attention. ¡°You are accepting of using the orbs of dungeon species you kill.¡± Alanna hummed and tilted her head in agreement, looking to James for an explanation. TQ wasn¡¯t done talking though. ¡°Admittedly different. A camraconda orb wouldn¡¯t have a person to bring back. Most greens, really. And a majority of yellows, though outliers exist. Oh, and killing the majority of the Sewer creations is acceptable. And¡­ hm. No, I rescind my comment.¡± His hissing stopped and he lowered himself back down. ¡°I was expecting more pushback there, man.¡± Alanna sighed. ¡°Come on, help me bully James into eating Cam¡¯s soul or whatever.¡± ¡°Absolutely not. Bully him yourself.¡± Alanna stretched her arms out. ¡°Alright! So¡­!¡± And then she caught sight of the look James was giving her, and decided to stop treating it like a joke. Letting her cocky pose drop, she settled back in her seat. ¡°Nah, you¡¯re right. And I fucking know it.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°What¡¯s right for us has to be right for everyone, or we¡¯re screwing up somehow. Stupid ethics. Getting in the way of a good idea.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, because when I think of my incredibly dangerous and sexy girlfriend, the first thing I think of is an utter contempt for ethics.¡± James rolled his eyes, before glancing at TQ. ¡°Uh, that was¡­¡± ¡°I have been with the Order for enough time to recognize sarcasm. Don¡¯t patronize me.¡± The camraconda let out a laughing burst of hisses. Alanna rolled off her chair and back to her feet, reaching over to rustle James¡¯ hair. ¡°Alright, so, no sudden power up tonight. That¡¯s cool.¡± ¡°Well, I did step on one of your orbs.¡± He admitted. ¡°And now know who to bribe to build a skyscraper in Kolkata.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t count and you know it.¡± Alanna broke off and stifled a yawn. ¡°Also, Nate was fucking right. I¡¯m exhausted and my everything hurts. I¡¯m gonna sleep. Or maybe just harass Anesh. You two don¡¯t stay up too late!¡± James smiled and tried to snipe a kiss from her before she left, but Alanna dodged away laughing, making a game of their affection as she fled the room. ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll get her next time.¡± He muttered, before glancing at TQ, who was still watching him quietly. ¡°Ah. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°You.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°You are so casual with everything. How?¡± ¡°Does it help if I tell you I¡¯m terrified of everything all the time?¡± James asked. ¡°Maybe.¡± The camraconda weaved back and forth, eventually sliding off the couch to unfold to his full length on the floor in a kind of stretch. ¡°But I have lived in another world, where everything is always afraid. And we eat whatever we can to grow stronger, so we can be what everything is afraid of.¡± James gnawed at his lip. He, and the Order in general, knew that Officium Mundi had a kind of ecosystem to it. But what TQ was saying suddenly sounded suspiciously like what James had heard from the ratroaches about the Akashic Sewer. ¡°So you want me to be the biggest fish?¡± He asked. ¡°Someone has to be.¡± ¡°Eh.¡± James shrugged it off with a dismissal that was casual to hide his actual worries. ¡°I think you already know that I don¡¯t want to act like that. And you don¡¯t either! Otherwise you would have just gone back, right?¡± He gave a tentative toothy smile to the camraconda. ¡°I¡¯ll be as strong as I need to be. But I¡¯m not gonna compromise my ideals in preparation for something that may never happen. Not just because I¡¯m worried about the future. Maybe if it¡¯s life or death in the moment, I¡¯ll make a choice I¡¯ll hate. But right now? Right now, I¡¯m full, and warm, and surrounded by friends, and feeling good, and the heartburn from Anesh¡¯s murderous curry hasn¡¯t kicked in yet. And I have the luxury to be the person I want to be.¡± TQ started to say something, but the digital voice cut off as the camraconda¡¯s fanged maw cracked open in a strained yawn. A move that made James a little concerned, since he¡¯d never seen one of them yawn before, and also because normally the sounds camracondas vocalized didn¡¯t interfere with their skulljack assisted voices. When TQ slammed his mouth closed, he looked up at James with a wide camera eye. ¡°Tired.¡± He announced. James was going to laugh and say something, but suddenly the yawn infected him, and he found himself covering his own gaping mouth as his need for sleep caught up. Feeling the best he¡¯d been in weeks didn¡¯t mean he could stay awake forever without feeling it. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m with ya. You wanna stay here tonight?¡± James asked, and got an enthusiastic nod from TQ¡¯s tightly wound cable head. ¡°Okay.¡± James let out a long breath. ¡°Sleep, then¡­ shit, I don¡¯t even know.¡± There was so much he needed to do tomorrow. Check in on Townton, on the chanters, on whatever Status Quo was doing. On new hiring attempts. On the injuries the Order had taken, on the roster of who was and wasn¡¯t available for the next encounter. Because there would be a next fight. There always was, it seemed. He¡¯d need to offload his normal tasks onto someone else. Was it Monday now? James wasn¡¯t sure and had left his phone in¡­ somewhere. In the bathroom, probably. He didn¡¯t even know if there was a delve happening. For someone who made a whole life out of dungeon delving, James felt like he was spending a lot of his time out in normal Earth. Though maybe ¡®normal¡¯ was a flagrant lie. He got TQ set up on the couch, watching the camraconda wrap himself in a blanket like a burrito by rolling in place leaving James with a big grin on his face as he headed to his own bed. And for all that he knew he was going to be overwhelmed, he was out almost the moment his head hit the pillow next to Anesh. Nate had been right. A short break had been exactly what James needed. He was absolutely certain that, whatever tomorrow brought, he¡¯d be able to face it a lot better after tonight. He dropped into sleep so deep that he didn¡¯t even notice it when TQ slipped in, still wrapped in a blanket, and laid himself out on the foot of the bed. Or when, getting back from their walk, Sarah snuck in as well to curl up with Alanna on the other side of the bed, Auberdeen trailing after her and making the foot of the bed sag further as the heavy dog scooted up against the camraconda currently pinning James¡¯ feet down. Or when, feeling left out, Keeka inched his way up through the middle of the bed and between the two sleeping Aneshs. Arrush didn¡¯t actually add himself to the growing attempt to test the mattress¡¯s weight limit. But he did sit with his back against the side of the bed, pulling a blanket Sarah passed him around his shoulders as he leaned his head on the wall by James¡¯ pillow. Subconsciously, James¡¯ brain informed him that he was probably on fire or something. The night wasn¡¯t that cold, and the body heat of that many people wasn¡¯t something James¡¯ poorly ventilated room was prepared to deal with, green orb effect or not. But he was too tired to do anything about it. So he just kicked off some of the blankets, wrapped an arm around an Anesh in his sleep, and went back to dreaming about a better tomorrow. A tomorrow where he didn¡¯t have to wake up in six hours to teleport down to Tennessee so he could go back to work. He wouldn¡¯t get that tomorrow right away. But maybe someday. Chapter 250 ¡°An Antimemetics Division operative is as good on their first day as they''re ever likely to be. -Your Last First Day, Antimemetics Division- _____ James woke up, instantly on edge as he realized there were other people in his room. He relaxed slightly when he realized they were all asleep, and also all people he knew, but there was no getting away from the awkwardness of being in his underwear around people he wasn¡¯t actively smooching on a regular basis. Careful movements got his hand to his phone on the desk next to his head without smashing into a corner or hitting anyone in the head. The time was a little after five AM, which was actually a lot of sleep considering when he¡¯d gone to bed. He was also starving, and way too warm, so he started moving more to try to escape his own bed. Still being careful, not wanting to disturb any of the cluster of snoring dorks around him, using light from his phone screen and the orb he kept on a shelf over the bed to guide him. Grabbing some pants and what he hoped was a clean shirt, James cracked the door to the room and stepped out to get dressed in the hallway, assuming that the otherwise empty apartment would be a more comfortable place to get changed. He was halfway into his pants and shoving the phone in his pocket when he realized he could hear someone talking from his living room, and that it wasn¡¯t as dark out here as he would have expected. ¡°-stagnating, I guess is the word. The kind of fancy word I¡¯m picking up from hanging around Research too often.¡± A familiar woman¡¯s voice spoke. Momo, he realized. The younger knight was in his apartment, and talking. He sped up his efforts to get dressed. ¡°Thing is, it should all fit together. The wacko your sister helped them kill made a fucking diary out of metaphysics, and I should know the shapes of things like engines and alloys and torque. But it doesn¡¯t line up?¡± There was a small, disinterested grunt in response. James got his shirt on and started walking down the hall, wrangling his belt into a useful place. ¡°Exactly!¡± Momo kept talking, unimpeded by the lack of care from her conversation partner. She was keeping quiet, probably to not wake anyone, but James could hear her clearer as he approached. ¡°So it¡¯s obvious there¡¯s no universal magical language, which, sweet I guess? I love this shit, I love learning about being a witch or whatever. But also it would have been a lot more convenient, and also more tactically useful. And also - oh, hey James.¡± Momo greeted him as he walked into the living room, standing barefoot on the inexplicable strip of hardwood floor that led to his front door. James looked at her, lounging on his couch, talking to a Camille who was sitting prim and proper like she hadn¡¯t lept off his balcony last night. He opened his mouth to say something, and ended up making a weird noise around a yawn instead. ¡°Yeah, I agree.¡± Momo nodded against the cushions. ¡°Also your couch smells like dog. Or rat, I guess? Also hey, I¡¯ve got a question for you.¡± ¡°How the fuck did you get in my house.¡± James asked flatly as he dropped his hand away from covering his yawn, his brain making rapid progress in pushing away the fuzz of sleep. Momo raised an arm to point at the door in a semi-sarcastic reply. Before she could say anything though, James raised his eyebrows at what he saw on her skin. ¡°Did you get a tattoo?¡± He asked. ¡°Neat.¡± ¡°Buh?¡± Momo pulled back, distracted and turning her arm back toward herself. ¡°Oh, right. Uh. Not exactly? Maybe.¡± ¡°Looks like a tattoo.¡± It looked like a badly drawn cat, but James didn¡¯t want to be rude. Momo tugged at the sleeve of her tee shirt, as if she could somehow figure out how to cover her forearm with it. ¡°It¡¯s from testing with the stupid new glove enchantment you made. The whole ¡®write at distance¡¯ thing. Turns out, it works on skin.¡± ¡°And with doodles, apparently?¡± James half asked, curious about the effect. ¡°I thought it only did text. Actually, doesn¡¯t it have a character limit?¡± ¡°I dunno, maybe it thinks ¡®cat¡¯ is one character in a pictographic language or something.¡± Momo suggested. ¡°Anyway, it writes ¡®into¡¯ skin, so it¡¯s up in the air if this is permanent or not. Personally I¡¯m guessing no, but it¡¯s kinda cute so I don¡¯t mind.¡± James avoided mentioning how horrifying the idea of a way to rapidly mark people with something that would be permanent could be. He didn¡¯t know how to articulate how, he just had a kind of grim feeling that a flexible magical ranged tattoo gun would be way too abusable somehow. Instead, he reasoned an earlier question. ¡°Seriously, why are you here? Not you, Cam¡­ though also when did you get back? Also how did you get¡­ actually don¡¯t tell me.¡± ¡°You leave your door unlocked.¡± Momo told him. ¡°And everyone knows where you live.¡± ¡°How?!¡± ¡°Okay, I know where you live. And also Cam was just lurking in your parking lot, so I brought her in. I do that sometimes. It¡¯s my thing.¡± Momo made it sound a lot more dramatic than James thought it really should be. ¡°Anyway, are you awake now? We¡¯ve got shit to do today.¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t you shot or something?¡± James demanded. Momo held a couch cushion out as a shield between them. ¡°Stop asking questions.¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯m fine. And we¡¯ve got new nonhuman life to flirt with. It¡¯s everything you ever wanted. So let¡¯s get on down to Townton and start making friends.¡± Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, James tried to figure out exactly why Momo was here, and not actually just doing the thing that she was trying to weasel him into doing with her. His couch was comfortable, and he was sure that Camille was a perfectly unresponsive conversation partner, but Momo could have just teleported down. The Order didn¡¯t even need to use telepads for the connection between Oregon and Tennessee anymore; they just had a set aside swap point for their newly pilfered and duplicated magic items. Momo could have walked from here to there with no effort at all. Changes came fast sometimes. Faster than James could keep up with in some cases, even when he was the one instigating them. But it didn¡¯t explain Momo being on his couch. ¡°You did get shot.¡± James accused her, and saw the flinch in Momo¡¯s eyes. ¡°You did! And you got told by at least one person to fuck off back to your room and rest! And now you¡¯re trying to use me as a social shield!¡± He thumped a loose fist onto the tablecloth at his end of the living room. ¡°Did you actually think this would work?¡± James asked her, more curious than irate. Momo shrank down into his couch. ¡°Yes?¡± She mumbled around the cushion. ¡°If you were tired enough, maybe?¡± James sighed and wiped the back of his hand at the corner of one of his eyes. ¡°Momo, go home.¡± He commanded, before turning to his other guest. ¡°Cam, uh¡­¡± The stone faced pale woman stared back at him, and James was suddenly acutely aware of how young she looked. Just like her sisters had. They were just¡­ children. Late teens, maybe, by human standards, but the farther into his thirties James got the more he felt like he could call anyone under a certain age ¡®kids¡¯. ¡°I have no answer.¡± She said, breaking him out of his thoughts. ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°You asked me what I wanted.¡± She reminded him. ¡°And I have no answer.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± James paused. ¡°Okay. Well. You can head back to the Lair with Momo and she¡¯ll get you set up with an advocate from Recovery. We can get you a place to stay, and you can figure things out at your own speed. We¡¯ll talk more later, because I have a lot to do today.¡± Camille stared back at him, and James shifted uneasily from foot to foot as the silent gaze stretched on. He was in the middle of retreating to the kitchen to grab a handful of crackers and some water as a ¡®breakfast¡¯ when she spoke again. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯m getting really fucking depressed getting asked why I¡¯m being a decent person.¡± James said, regretting instantly how harsh the words might have sounded. ¡°Momo, you field this one. And no field work for you, you dumbass.¡± He ordered her. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get a head start on the day, and I still need coffee or something.¡± ¡°Yes boss.¡± Momo said with a sigh. ¡°Oh, before you go, can you touch these?¡± She perked up as she emptied a cloth bag full of lightly luminescent yellow crystals onto James¡¯ table. They all had duct tape wrapped around them with words written in bold pen. ¡°I¡¯ve been missing actually making you do this for a while and you¡¯re the only one with enough points.¡± James sighed, and looked over them. Some were labeled, others were waiting to be filled in. ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± He asked. The skill points from the Underburbs were¡­ unpleasant, for him. He had a lot. More, now. Thirty one, if his count was correct, and he was pretty sure it was. But thinking about how he¡¯d gotten them wasn¡¯t like memories of earning orbs or spells from other dungeons. They were, each and every one, linked to a moment of pain or violation or loss. So James had been sort of dodging Momo¡¯s requests for a while, and had apparently taken too long to teleport out of his apartment this morning to keep doing it. But leaving a tool on the table just because he felt slimy about it wasn¡¯t smart. And while James was pretty sure none of the skills would be life altering at this point, he knew there were plenty of people in the Order who could benefit from him using his points to get them better information on this new weird form of magic. Momo ignored his internal turmoil, like most people did. ¡°Basic tests. The ones with the little pink tape have had other people put partial points in, so I need to know how many points it takes you. Also if you could use at least one of them more than once, that would be handy. Aside from that, just tell me what they are. The tested ones only took two or three skill points each, so you should be able to do them all. I assume. I dunno. I actually never asked? Anesh just said you had ¡®a lot¡¯ so I figured you¡­ uh¡­¡± Momo winced as she saw James¡¯ tired and sad expression, and trailed off without finishing the thought. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± He said out loud, reaching out for the first crystal. ¡°How many chairs did you murder to get all these?¡± James asked, trying to ease the mood a bit. ¡°Oh, we broke a ton of shit from the house you brought back, and got a couple. Also some of the furniture from the big beetle either wasn¡¯t magic, or was just pure trap, so it didn¡¯t drop any crystals. These eight are just what we¡¯ve got for now.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James took a breath and picked up the crystal. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go.¡± He started pushing at it, letting it ask for the skill points he¡¯d accrued, and offering them up. It took one point. [+1 Skill Rank : Instrument - Drums - Snare] ¡°Huh. That was fast.¡± James commented with raised eyebrows. ¡°One skill point, got a rank in snare drums.¡± Momo shot up. ¡°Holy shit, it works.¡± Her voice was full of excitement. ¡°Do this one next.¡± She handed James a crystal that was already labeled, and had a second strip of green duct tape on it. He obeyed, and it also only took a single skill point from him before he got a notification. [+1 Skill Rank : Construction - Carpentry - Screw Driving] ¡°This is easier than I expected.¡± The tension he¡¯d been feeling interacting with anything from the Underburbs again started to fade as he got into the flow of it. ¡°Also, that was only one point too. Are these special?¡± ¡°They¡¯re ones people already put points in.¡± Momo said, pulling the tape off. ¡°Can you put one more in here, so I can test it again?¡± James did so while his brain caught up. ¡°So, hey, that means that if someone doesn¡¯t need or want any skills we have, they can ¡®feed¡¯ them to other people? That¡¯s super cool. Not, like, foundation-shaking, but still rad. Should I do the rest?¡± He asked as he got more comfortable. Momo nodded at him excitedly, so James just started running through the unidentified and unused crystals. [+1 Skill Rank : Art - Handwriting] [+1 Skill Rank : Computers - Programming - BLISS] [+1 Skill Rank : Language - Pochutec] [+1 Skill Rank : Government - Chinese - Politiburo] [+1 Skill Rank : History- Sailing] All told, he spent nineteen of his skill points before he was done, and gave Momo a report on what he¡¯d earned. ¡°How many points per?¡± She asked. ¡°Also use the cheapest one again, we need to know if it stacks or something.¡± James rattled off answers in order. ¡°Four, three, two, four, three.¡± He said, taking back the language skill crystal Momo had just finished wrapping a duct tape label around. ¡°And sure.¡± He pushed, two more points vanished, and James got a familiar notification. [+1 Skill Rank : Language - Pochutec] ¡°Exactly the same?¡± Momo asked, excitement obvious. ¡°Like, exactly?¡± ¡°Looks like it.¡± James answered, roughly using a language that no one had spoken for over fifty years. When Momo and Camille gave him blank stares, he sighed and switched back to English. ¡°Yeah, exactly. Also two things. One? Pochutec is an excellent way to maintain operational security if we¡¯re worried about being bugged in the field. I doubt anyone¡¯s gonna casually know a literal dead language. And two, now knowing more about China, I¡¯m starting to get a perspective for why some people don¡¯t like communism. Yikes.¡± James winced as he sifted through the new knowledge dumped into his brain. Momo threw a pillow at him. ¡°Whatever man. Get political on your own time. I¡¯m just here for magic.¡± Catching the pillow one handed, James rotated his arm with inhuman flexibility and winged it back at her, catching the injured woman in the stomach and eliciting a shocked grunt. ¡°You¡¯re in my house!¡± He reminded her pointedly, before sighing. ¡°And I am on my own time, and I¡¯m gonna go use it. Cam, don¡¯t let her get distracted until she gets you set up with Recovery. And¡­¡± James lost some of his lighthearted smile as he met Camille¡¯s eyes. ¡°And I¡¯m sorry, I guess. For how this is all turning out. For your sisters, and for you.¡± The unarmored pale woman stared back at him, her eyes hard out of simple lack of practice emoting, not any kind of malice. But when she dipped her head, and looked down at the table, her voice was painfully human. ¡°So am I.¡± She replied. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°¡­yeah.¡± James¡¯ mouth twisted as he looked over at Momo. ¡°Take care-¡° ¡°Care of her, yeah.¡± Momo agreed with less sarcasm. ¡°Go. Play with your new friends. We¡¯ll be fine.¡± She was already rolling off the couch, standing with a pained wince as she put weight on an injured leg, which James didn¡¯t fail to notice. James sighed as he watched her start to get a telepad prepared. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m gonna hitch a ride with you to the Lair.¡± He said, then turned his head at the sound of something squeaking from the other side of his front door. ¡°Oh, after our friendly dog for the day.¡± James took a couple steps and pulled the door open, the very early morning not normally when the dogs showed up, but not unwelcome. What caught him off guard was that this dog was incorporeal, and rippled with rainbow hued distortions in the air, visible under the white light of the apartment¡¯s porch. ¡°Uh¡­¡± James looked down at the familiar creature. ¡°Magneto!¡± Momo¡¯s voice was a little too loud for an apartment full of sleeping persons, and also as surprised as James felt. ¡°Why are you here?!¡± The mongausse ignored James, magnetic distortion pouring around his legs as the apparently-dog-enough creature ran into his apartment and jumped up on Momo. Though it was just as incorporeal to her as it was to James, so he kind of just watched while shaking his head as Momo fished around in some of her cargo pants many pockets for a few magnets she could use to pet her companion animal. ¡°Why is he here.¡± James mused. ¡°Wait, actually, hang on. Is he our friendly dog for the day? Does this mean the green orb is teleporting random fucking dogs here?! I worry this has terrible implications. Oh no, have we been kidnapping dogs?¡± ¡°No.¡± Another voice from outside the apartment spoke, just before Simon stepped up to the top of the stairs, breathing heavily from chasing down an excited ball of magnetic field, and leaned on the door. ¡°El asked me to make sure you were okay.¡± He said. ¡°Me?¡± James asked, curious. ¡°What? No, Momo. The one who vanished at four AM.¡± Simon gave his friend an irritated glower. ¡°Without telling anyone.¡± James held up both hands. ¡°Nope. There¡¯s people sleeping in my bedroom, this argument can happen somewhere else.¡± He declared. ¡°Though also thank you for quickly solving my existential crisis about dognapping.¡± James gave a grateful nod to Simon. Without saying anything except a heavy sigh and a nearly audible eye roll, Momo wrapped her arms around two of them and made sure the magnetic dog was connecting her to James, and yanked the telepad page off. The sudden shift didn¡¯t actually serve as an escape from the awkward conversation, but James didn¡¯t mind. He had a backup plan, which was simply walking away and going to gather the information he needed to start helping. It mostly worked. _____ James had planned to start with his checklist at home, but since his first goal for the day was talking to everyone who¡¯d been injured and checking up on the rescued prisoners, he held off. Most people didn¡¯t like being woken up at just after five AM, and he was trying to respect that. In Tennessee, though, at least someone would be awake and socially obligated to not tell him he was too early. Time zones were the real magic, honestly. So James grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin from the snack bar in the dining room, got halfway through his improvised breakfast before realizing the coffee was itself magical and that he was feeling mental connections come easier as the wisdom boost took hold, and then joined a handful of other people for the scheduled teleport down to Townton. He¡¯d been teleported three times now via the transposed sphere of space method, and it was still kind of wild to him. Functionally, as far as James could tell, it wasn¡¯t even moving space around. It was just¡­ creating very good portals. And then compressing them? He watched it happen, his enhanced thoughts supposedly making it easier to sort through it. The walls of the bubble went up around them, speeding up after they got through with the chunk of dirt that the Order had taken great pains to make sure didn¡¯t have any piles or cables in it. As the walls rose up overhead, James could see at ground level the similar patch of dead dirt they were swapping to, but with different buildings nearby. A different sky. Even as directly overhead, there was a patch of ethereal blue where the early morning light of Oregon hadn¡¯t fully been closed off yet, the rest of the space now showed a mid-morning Tennessee. And then, he wasn¡¯t in Beaverton looking at a massive near complete window into somewhere else. He was in Townton, full stop. No connection left, everything now fully swapped between the two bubbles of space. It was only after the sphere fully closed that an exhausted looking Nikhail spoke up to everyone. ¡°All ashore! Townton, park outpost, population us and a bunch of bugs! Return trip is in half an hour!¡± At the words, the other people who¡¯d come in with James started moving, stepping out of the circle, and across the line where the dirt obviously changed colors in a ring. ¡°Why do we wait at all?¡± He asked out loud. ¡°Why not just walk through the portal before it closes?¡± Nik stifled a yawn while frantically grunting at James. ¡°No, no no no. Don¡¯t do that!¡± He swept an arm around, gearing up to say something dramatic. James cut him off. ¡°It¡¯s hideously unsafe, isn¡¯t it?¡± He asked. ¡°Wait, hang on. I thought the wall of the thing pushes up at, like, lackadaisical car window strength?¡± ¡°It does. The edges do. The ¡®portal¡¯ itself is unstable and moving through it can mess you up.¡± Nik informed him as he swapped out the gps coordinates that were rolled up and placed in the central slot of the stacked array of brass gears. ¡°We¡¯ve been testing it a lot since we got the swappies, and - don¡¯t give me that look, you took too long to name them - anyway, it¡¯s not consistent. We¡¯re not doing live tests, because inanimate objects get anything from what I¡¯m going to call ¡®light bending¡¯ to ¡®light rending¡¯, and finding out if it does that to people too seems like a stupid plan.¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve been through one before.¡± James looked up in thought. ¡°On Pendragon, when we first found the Wolfpack. Or maybe we just timed it really well?¡± He tried to think back to that particular moment, but couldn¡¯t come up with a clear picture of how it had gone down. He did remember one thing though. ¡°Wait, like, yesterday, we moved a bunch of the chanters through an open one of these things. They were fine?¡± ¡°We [Move Personed] a bunch of them. That¡¯s different I think. Also, if any of them were hurt running through the breach, they couldn¡¯t tell us anyway, and we might not notice. Also, good job getting out ahead of the name this time! Gotta get in early on stuff like this.¡± Nik shot him a thumbs up. There was something a little frustrating about that comment, and James didn¡¯t really know how to articulate it. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I should be taking advice from someone about early action when that someone is the most reckless human in the Order in terms of sticking weird magic in his body.¡± Nik perked up. ¡°Hey, I got upgraded! Most reckless human is better than last time!¡± ¡°Specificity is important to good communication.¡± James failed to mention that most reckless human didn¡¯t preclude any other broader titles for stupid behavior. Heading toward the nearby reclaimed building, and ignoring their resident poor decision maker, James took a minute to look over the teleport site. The sudden shift in dirt consistency underfoot when he crossed the line, the mix of ruined buildings around them, the smell of clean morning air. They¡¯d chosen a spot that had a park, near where a residential street abruptly ran into a cluster of commercial buildings. The part was a little overgrown, but the whole city was looking that way these days; Townton was built over time for a population of twenty thousand, and currently it had maybe fifty people living in it. Not enough to maintain things to any degree. So crab grass and dandelions shot through every gap in the asphalt, and some kind of vine or ivy James couldn¡¯t identify crawled the sides of the damaged buildings. A few of the houses nearby had burned during the aftermath, and against the blackened remains, tiny wildflowers poked their colored petals up to the sun. The natural world reclaimed the city, uncaring of what had occurred here. Any other day, James would have been morose about it. But today, it meant that they had a large public park space to put their new shelled refugees in, and he wasn¡¯t in a mood to mope. The hundreds of chanters were spread across the dry grass and old bark chips, some of them sleeping underneath the jungle gym, quite a few lining the outside of the park like sentinels. There was a low frequency vibe of exhausted despair coming from them, though nowhere near as bad as it was yesterday. But still, it was a thing that the helpers from the Order were having to fight through. James shrugged it off, pitting optimism and a good night¡¯s sleep against the intrusive empathy broadcast and winning as he walked across a splintered street. The closest building to the park had once been an art gallery of some sort. While the other structures near it still had holes in them and in some cases had cars crashed through their front facades, this one had been quickly patched up with a combination of different magics. It also had a rolling sheet metal garage door that led to a room now emptied of sculpture and refilled with emergency aid supplies and food. The interior smelled¡­ not good. Like it had recently had a sewage line breach cleaned up or something, which might literally be true. But it didn¡¯t actively smell toxic, which would have to be good enough. Dorothy greeted James a little while after he walked in. The elderly woman had the most dangerous weapon anyone in the Order ever wielded; a clipboard. And she used it to marshal the group James had teleported in with, giving them marching orders as they sipped on coffee and juice and pretended they were more awake than they really were. ¡°Paladin!¡± Was the way she addressed James after sending everyone else to their assigned roles. ¡°That¡¯s never gonna stop being weird coming from people older than me.¡± James muttered, just loud enough that it was clear he was trying to be funny and not actually hiding anything. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Dorothy gave him a prod with a bony finger, getting more of a flinch out of James than he¡¯d shown when he was being shot at. ¡°Get used to it.¡± She ordered him, her grandmotherly smile not at all at odds with the sharp command. ¡°Are you looking for Kirk?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m just here to check on our friends.¡± James said, before realizing her tone had been worried. ¡°Why, where¡¯s Kirk? Is something going on?¡± She looked out at the clouded glass of the front window, remade inexpertly by a blue orb ability. ¡°He went out looking for a straggler, and hasn¡¯t come back.¡± She said. ¡°I was going to send Roland after him, but if you¡¯re here¡­¡± ¡°My literal job is solving problems. Straggler how?¡± James asked, reflexively double checking how many shield bracers he was wearing. It was two, both at low charges, but he probably wasn¡¯t going to get in mortal peril today. ¡°One of the big bugs.¡± Dorothy told him. ¡°I¡¯m calling them chanters.¡± James interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s sort of how they think of their emotional projection. I think. It¡¯s all a little fuzzy, interrupted skulljack link and all that.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway, sorry. One of them wandered off?¡± Dorothy nodded, as she propped her clipboard in the crook of her arm and wrote the word on the top of the page. ¡°They were missing this morning, and no one saw them go. Kirk went off to putter around the block and see if he could find them. He¡¯s supposed to have magic to be safe about it.¡± ¡°He¡¯s in a car?¡± ¡°Bike. The streets here¡­¡± Dorothy didn¡¯t shrug, didn¡¯t look away, but gave the impression that she wanted this line of conversation to end anyway. ¡°Well. We did a number on the traffic, didn¡¯t we?¡± Her voice rang full of self loathing at the reminder. James nodded, and gave her a small smile. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± He said. It wasn¡¯t what he¡¯d come here for, but he had some time to kill, and there were a finite number of people who he¡¯d be comfortable sending out on a search in a city filled with living asphalt creatures of dubious attitude. Hell, he wasn¡¯t even comfortable sending himself out. Which is why he decided not to. Skipping the line for the cargo teleport and dipping into his personal telepad stack, James jumped back to the Lair to pick up a few things, then back to Townton to find a good roof he could set up on. If you compared James to someone in the Order who had been practicing this so they could run actual search and rescue as part of Response, or so they could scout dangerous dungeon environments, then he¡¯d absolutely come up short. But ¡®not as good as the best the Order had¡¯ left a lot of room, and as far as skulljack drone pilot went, James had been doing it the longest. He wasn¡¯t running elaborate multi-acre search patterns, but he could stick two wide angle camera drones hovering high overhead and run a third one for a more thorough street by street search. He was pretty sure, if Dorothy had thought of it, she could have gotten something like this accomplished with an hour or two of time from the aid volunteers down here. But Dorothy, for all that she had been living in the magical world for a long time, just wasn¡¯t familiar with every esoteric capability the Order had. He didn¡¯t want to dismiss it as her being old; it was more that, when someone was focused on something like cleaning up and reclaiming a demolished city, they might not keep up on every weird trick that got developed for dungeon delving. James found Kirk¡¯s bike before he found Kirk, though he didn¡¯t know it until a little later. It was hard to tell one ruined vehicle from another around here. It was, though, a novel experience to see a group of necroads moving down one of the streets. The creatures, asphalt held together by some kind of weirdly enchanted bone, tended to move by walking on their hovering claws, as far as James had seen up close. But now, when he watched from overhead, they almost skated along the road, fluidly drifting between wreckage as they wove the lanes. When he realized the group he was watching was circling a block, James brought his two high point drones over to the area, and investigated further. From there, it wasn¡¯t long until he found a motorcycle on one of the sidewalks that wasn¡¯t a stationary piece of wreckage, and also had a bloodstain on the ground near it. It took him a little while to carefully move his drone through the holes in the nearby commercial buildings for dentists and antique stores in his search, but he only had to go through two of the places before a navigator flared itself into his line of sight streetside. He found Kirk through the orange lines leading back to him, along with the chanter Kirk had been tracking down. The man was pale faced and leaning against the back of a counter just under the cash register, his leg broken in a painful way. The chanter was nervously scuttling back and forth nearby, like it wasn¡¯t sure if it should run or stay, and the arrival of James drone didn¡¯t help much. There was a tempting thought to use the drone as a GPS beacon, and just use a Wolfpack teleporter to rip the chunk of building the two were hiding in back to safety. But James didn¡¯t want to risk collapsing the place on top of them, so he struck out on foot instead; the place actually wasn¡¯t very far away at all, and with one drone left high overhead so he could see anything coming at him out of the corner of his mind through the skulljack link, he made it without any problems. A simple telepad got them back. Kirk had thanked him through teeth gritted in pain, Doroty had gone off on Kirk in a way that wasn¡¯t exactly unfamiliar to how James remembered his own grandma being furious with worry, and the chanter had scuttled away on their spined claws to hide somewhere in the park. Maybe they were worried they¡¯d be punished for the whole thing, but honestly, everyone seemed to just be relieved that no one had gotten hurt. Kirk had objected to that statement from James, up until James had gotten him one of their purple orbs that reduced broken bones per month, and the worst part of Kirk¡¯s leg had fixed itself. ¡°What I don¡¯t get is why the necroads were trying to kill you.¡± James asked him as he helped the man bandage up his calf. ¡°I thought we were cool with them.¡± ¡°Right. You don¡¯t come down here much.¡± Kirk sighed as his navigator tried to get him to stop moving so much. ¡°Some of the little packs are vicious. We try to avoid them, though.¡± He swatted limply at the orange feathers that were trying to keep him from tugging at the heavy bandage wrapped around his hand. ¡°None of them talk to us though, if they even can.¡± ¡°We should move this up on our to do list.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Do we have xenobiologists yet? Let¡¯s get some.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare ruin this place with a bunch of nerds.¡± Kirk glared at him. ¡°I like it quiet down here.¡± James gave the man a flat stare. ¡°You didn¡¯t complain about the chanters but you¡¯ll complain about people studying the native life?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Well¡­ okay, well, you can do that. But I¡¯m still gonna try to get some people to help us figure out what to do about the necroads. So deal with it.¡± James bluntly informed the Horizonist, his patience not able to hold up to the complaining. Shortly after, he¡¯d left Kirk and his mild whining in the hands of a better medic than himself, and gone to actually do what he came here for, and check up on the chanters. The picture he got of the situation wasn¡¯t great. The Order knew from some of the captured Status Quo documents that the chanters needed food and water, but a lifetime of abuse and starvation conditions made actually feeding them a challenge. Recovery was trying to keep things familiar for now, which meant the humans got to feel a little uncomfortable providing food and water troughs instead of personal portions. But honestly, their comfort was secondary to creating an environment where the chanters knew it was okay to eat without being punished. The creatures also were still very skittish around the mostly human group of aid workers. To the point that there had already been a few cases of them lashing out, though fortunately no one had been hurt badly. Shield bracers set to ¡®claw swipes¡¯ were now standard issue, though. But this meant that the few veterinarians and nurses on site didn¡¯t have much to do at the moment. James did relay to them what he¡¯d heard from Nik about the portal earlier, though. Taking a moment to let them know that it was possible that some of the chanters had injuries that might not be apparent. He wouldn¡¯t even know where to begin on fixing that. But there was talk of getting a unit of camracondas in to help with preliminary medical checks. Again, it was deeply uncomfortable, but, ultimately¡­ It was more important to achieve the result of keeping everyone safe and alive and uninjured than it was to wait until they could communicate fully as equals and risk one of the chanters quietly dying to internal bleeding that could have been found and treated. ¡°Kinda hate feeling like we¡¯re just slightly more benevolent prison wardens.¡± James confided to Dorothy as he shoved his notebook back in his back pocket. ¡°We¡¯re not slightly anything.¡± She told him as the thinnest ghost of her shared navigator manifested off her bony shoulders. ¡°They¡¯re like children. And we do know what¡¯s better for them.¡± James winced. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°A slippery slope?¡± Dorothy filled in with an interruption. ¡°Something like that. More that I think if we¡¯re going to use ¡¯we know best¡¯ as a reason to act, then we should make sure we have really hard lines on the why and how. But then, I also think the world would be better if we were in charge of everything, so what do I know?¡± James sighed, mostly to himself. ¡°Take care of them, yeah?¡± Dorothy smiled at him. ¡°Of course we will. I¡¯ll treat them better than my own kids.¡± Perking up, James started talking without thinking. ¡°I didn¡¯t know¡­¡± he paused as he saw the hurt look underneath the smile. ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°My fault, I suppose.¡± Dorothy didn¡¯t elaborate on what part she meant, exactly. ¡°Now go on, get out of here. We¡¯ll yell if we need you again.¡± Her smile that time was real, and James mirrored it back to her, before heading off to the scheduled teleport that was bringing in a couple hundred gallons of fresh water, a pallet of granola bars, and the next wave of volunteers. The new teleporters made cargo transport so much easier, it almost felt like a waste to not use all the space they had available. James added ¡®check on the cargo thing¡¯ to his list, but didn¡¯t have much hope of getting that done today. Much higher on his list was getting a security team down here, because everyone who lived and worked in the city was being way too casual about living alongside the necroads that apparently sometimes were actually aggressive. It wasn¡¯t that James didn¡¯t have his own slew of bad ideas and flawed assumptions about living conditions being normal. But he wasn¡¯t gonna let this one slide right now, when they had new people relying on them for safety. _____ ¡°Hey there. I¡¯m James.¡± Were the words he tried to make sound as calming as possible as James settled into a chair near the foot of the bed in the Order¡¯s hospital. The kid - well, mid twenties, probably, but James was feeling older with every passing day, so kid it was - in the bed looked at him like he was a snake waiting to bite. Which was ironic, because James was pretty sure that a camraconda would get a better reaction. ¡°Wha-¡° the guy tried to say something, and found he couldn¡¯t make the words come out. James grimaced, and nodded sympathetically. He took a quick glance at the notes on the whiteboard on the wall; specifically the ones that glittered somehow. ¡°Sorry, Mercy says you should recover full speeching ability in a day or two. I can come back then, or I can give you the quick info now?¡± The man who had been one of Status Quo¡¯s prisoners up until yesterday shot him a look that seemed like it was hiding a lot of animosity, but he didn¡¯t have the energy to keep it up for too long. Eventually, he just dropped his head back to the pillow. ¡°Guh ahee.¡± He told James with a pirouette of his hand. James snorted a bitter laugh. ¡°Sure. So. The Order of Endless Rooms officially extends its hospitality to you. You can stay here until you recover, and we can help you rebuild your life afterward if that¡¯s what you want. You owe us nothing, and that includes information about whatever magic you have.¡± The kid flinched, his face going slightly red as he turned and looked studiously at the wall. ¡°If you know that your magic is recoverable on death, do not tell us. We have a standard form for everyone as to what they want done with their drops, regardless of if it applies to you.¡± James recited the speech he¡¯d been refining on the last two prisoners he spoke to. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to explore the Order a bit more after you¡¯ve recovered, with an escort at first. If you like our culture, and want to join us, there¡¯s a path to that. If you want to leave and for us to forget you, we can do that too. We¡¯re not in the business right now of judging you for anything in your past, okay?¡± James looked down at his hands, trying not to sigh. ¡°Right now, all we¡¯re interested in is putting you back together.¡± ¡°Eineds?¡± The man in the hospital bed slurred after a moment of silence. ¡°Ey einds?¡± ¡°Your¡­ friends? Oh, friends.¡± James nodded grimly. ¡°We didn¡¯t get everyone out. And we don¡¯t know all the names yet. Until the communication damage is healed, we can¡¯t get consent from most people to talk about them to anyone else. I know this might seem odd or stupidly picky, but we won¡¯t tell anyone about you until you tell us it¡¯s okay either. Once we can do that, in a day or two, we¡¯ll start letting everyone know. But you¡¯re far from the only survivor.¡± The kid nodded silently into his pillow, still staring at the wall. James watched for a minute before he took another breath, and made to stand. ¡°If there¡¯s anything you want to tell us, about anything, we¡¯re here to listen. We also default to assigning people who have been through trauma like this to a therapist, so just know that if you¡¯re staying with us, that¡¯s coming up next week. Also, no one, even our resident infomorphs, know exactly what the thing that was attached to you was doing. Not totally. So if there¡¯s anything going on, we¡¯d like to know that too.¡± He tried to make eye contact, and failed, as the rescued prisoner just kept focused on the space next to the head of his bed. ¡°You¡¯re not a prisoner here. Just to say that again, just in case.¡¯ There was no response this time. And James didn¡¯t wait too long for it, either. When he stepped out into the hall, he almost ran into Deb passing by. The woman was in her blue scrubs, hair tucked into a tight bun, and was currently rubbing her hands like she¡¯d just taken gloves off. ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re here.¡± She said to James as she saw him. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m helping with intake, or whatever we call it.¡± He said. ¡°I had wanted to try to talk to some of the people we rescued, but¡­ yikes. You got a moment?¡± Deb looked over her shoulder as if she was being chased by a specter of time management. ¡°Two minutes.¡± She stated. James nodded. He wasn¡¯t sure what Deb was up to, but he wasn¡¯t about to start wasting her time for no reason. ¡°What¡¯s up with the prisoners, anyway?¡± He asked directly. ¡°I haven¡¯t actually gotten a chance to talk to Mercy.¡± ¡°She¡¯s still exhausted.¡± Deb said, sounding no small amount tired herself. ¡°I can give you the spark notes.¡± ¡°Hit me.¡± ¡°Each of the prisoners we¡¯ve worked with - and there¡¯s still thirty or forty people who we haven¡¯t gotten to yet - have some kind of symbiotic infomorph wrapped around them.¡± Deb started. James cut in instantly. ¡°Symbiotic?¡± She nodded at him as the two of them moved aside to let one of the nurses pass with a wheeled cart stacked with wrapped meal trays. ¡°Removing it caused noticeable physical changes. We monitored the second one closer, and while the thing was absolutely restricting the patient¡¯s mental capacity, it was also making them tougher in a lot of ways. And we see it now with the ones still under; they don¡¯t need food or water, not really.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± James tapped his foot on the polished tile floor. ¡°Yeah. ¡®Huh¡¯ is right.¡± Deb checked her phone on reflex, flicking messages away with nimble fingers. ¡°They take a lot of assignment stamina to break, but they don¡¯t fight back. Mercy describes them as structures built around a living person¡¯s self, not as distinct individuals, and I agree; they won¡¯t communicate, and maybe can¡¯t. I think, personally, they¡¯re close to authorities. Able to make intelligent actions, but they don¡¯t choose anything.¡± She looked back up at James. ¡°You¡¯ve also already seen the aftereffects mentally. They¡¯ve been keeping people from communicating in any way, and that¡¯s residual. We¡¯ll need some kind of directed therapy to really help them shake that off. Or skulljacks, or some other magic we¡¯ve cooked up.¡± Deb sounded casual about the concept of medical magic in a way that made James smugly satisfied with what they had going on here. ¡°Well. You know what? I¡¯m still fine with it. Better this than drained to the point of near death and used as a blood battery.¡± James hated that memory. Hated having seen first hand what the last Status Quo they¡¯d met was willing to do to preserve ¡®normalcy¡¯. ¡°And hey, maybe some of these people will be willing to work with us once they¡¯re doing better.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got a better benefits package than Squo at least.¡± Deb agreed. ¡°Now. Anything else? I need to go deliver good news.¡± ¡°What¡­?¡± James raised his eyebrows. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t think there was positive news; after all, despite a bunch of injuries, no one from the Order had been critically hurt or killed in the last fight. Deb offered a rare smile to him. It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t smile, it was more that every time James had seen her for what felt like the last year, it was because he was causing more problems for the would-be doctor. Her smiles got saved for Frequency-Of-Sunlight, and times when things went right. ¡°Yeah.¡± Deb told him. ¡°Well. We had a shaper substance use scheduled. And there¡¯s no sense postponing that when I can¡¯t dig into people¡¯s brains like an infomorph.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°You¡¯ll hear about it later, I¡¯m sure.¡± James felt his face light up with his own happy smile. ¡°Everything went well though?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh yeah. Exactly as planned.¡± Deb nodded. ¡°Now your two minutes are up. I¡¯ve got real work to do. Get out of here.¡± It was a dismissal, and it was sort of phrased harshly, but James didn¡¯t take it personally. Much like Deb, he was just kind of happy that things were still moving forward, still getting better. For privacy reasons, Deb wasn¡¯t gonna tell him who it was, but he could guess it was probably still a ratroach, or maybe Banana finally going through her own transformation. Either way, it was something powerful and uplifting. Taking a terrible thing from a terrible place, and using it to force the world into a more acceptable shape. He started to leave the hospital feeling happy. But that faded as he passed by room after room after room, copied spaces containing placid, unresponsive prisoners. Or worse, sometimes, people who had gotten hurt rescuing them. Injured knights sleeping off stitches or blood transfusions, bruises and stray bullet wounds putting them down for more than just one night. Not all of them were human, either; a camraconda with a cracked lens, an inhabitor who was currently trying to convince a nurse that his body didn¡¯t need rest. People who had gotten hurt, because of his choice. James knew it was a good trade. Knew everyone had chosen to follow him into this. But it still stung. It would have been so much worse if anyone he¡¯d made the decision for had died. So he ended up walking out with a mix of melancholy and optimism. Things were going to be okay, because they¡¯d make them okay, but that process wouldn¡¯t be painless. He¡¯d always known that. It wasn¡¯t even like now was much of a wakeup call; the last time Status Quo had gotten in a fight with the Order, they¡¯d actually killed more than a few people, most of them not knights at all. James knew, for a fact, that there were plenty of people who would shoot him dead for his belief and his attempts to make them real. But that didn¡¯t mean he had to stop trying. He also thought, as he finally made it back to the door to the Lair proper, that maybe they¡¯d gone overboard on the size of their spatially warped hospital. He¡¯d had way too much time to mope on the way out of here. _____ Roughly twelve hours ago, Nate had sent James and the people with him to get a bite to eat and some sleep. The man¡¯s roughly compassionate logic was that, while people like James were pretty competent fighters, they weren¡¯t really soldiers, and keeping them on high alert was just going to exhaust them and wear them down. It wasn¡¯t like they were leaving anything undefended; the Order had been recruiting and training up people to help with their security for months now, and a lot of those recruits that Nate refused to call squires were posted around their acres of old pumpkin farm. When James arrived and checked in with Nate, the first thing he noticed was that Nate looked like he had utterly ignored his own advice to rotate out for rest. The stocky man was wearing a black cloth skullcap on his bald head, the Order¡¯s weird mix of ballistic plate and riot armor, and was as heavily armed as any frontline soldier. He also had a rough look around his eyes, like he hadn¡¯t slept much at all. Ben and JP were in the downstairs room of the old farmhouse with him, and James distinctly remembered them being here when he last left. Planner was still here too, but Planner got a pass. Not because assignments didn¡¯t need to sleep - that was still unclear to James actually - but because if anyone in the world could be trusted to stick to an actual sleep schedule, it would be Planner. ¡°Everyone in my group is ready to go.¡± James told Nate straight away. ¡°Where do you want us?¡± ¡°Nowhere.¡± Nate and Ben said at the same time, Ben¡¯s companionable voice mostly overridden by Nate¡¯s louder declaration. James frowned at both of them, before turning to JP. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me.¡± His friend told him without missing a beat. ¡°I think you should be hovering around in Pendragon waiting to do your heroic swoop thing.¡± ¡°I do not.¡± James rolled his eyes, voice flatly contemptuous. Nate cut in like a bull going through a store that only sold fragile conversation threads. ¡°The one time anyone rescued anyone in that dragon, I was the one doing it.¡± He reminded JP. Incorrectly, James was about to say, because Dave had done it at least once too, but that was before Nate joined them. ¡°And we don¡¯t have anything useful for you to do. The Squo shitweasels might not even show up, there¡¯s no bugs here for you to make bad calls about plugging your brain into, and our one prisoner is a psychopath who would just get off on fucking with you. What am I supposed to do you with you, stick you in a concealed post and let you get bored?¡± ¡°¡­yyyyyes?¡± James wasn¡¯t actually sure. ¡°Look, I¡¯m supposed to be helping.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got thirty people whose actual job is securing areas.¡± Nate told him bluntly. ¡°I don¡¯t need your dumb ass getting in the way.¡± James felt mildly offended. ¡°I¡¯m a little hurt.¡± He told Nate. Though he dropped the exaggerated attitude when he noticed the tired irritation in Nate¡¯s eyes. ¡°Alright, look. I don¡¯t know how long we need to be on guard for. I don¡¯t know if new east coast Status Quo is something we¡¯ll have to be worried about for the rest of our lives. So if anything comes up, you tell me, okay? I¡¯ll stay out of the way and let you do your thing, but I¡¯m not useless, and I will not be sidelined for this.¡± Nate met his eyes with a respectful scowl of annoyance. But he did give a grudging nod. ¡°Sure. But it could be a while. Could be never.¡± ¡°Hopefully never.¡± Planner¡¯s dry voice added itself to the conversation. ¡°The obfuscation on the Lair is still quite strong and undisturbed. The concealment on the outer structure of Officium Mundi is much weaker still, and I would appreciate help in building it, but it does mean that I would be able to see even more subtle changes, and it has not been located either.¡± ¡°So we won¡¯t get ambushed at home, at least.¡± James let out a small breath of relief. Though he wasn¡¯t completely blind to the fact that a lot of people lived in non-Lair homes, at least this would be a major block to anyone trying to track the movements of the Order. There was a shared moment between most of them. Nate had been there for that one. Ben hadn¡¯t though, and the friend shaped mimic didn¡¯t really think too much about breaking the stressed silence by answering his radio. James payed half a mind worth of attention as Ben took a report from one of the teams posted in a loose perimeter around the farm, but mostly shared a quiet moment with Nate and JP as they all, in their own way, hoped it wouldn¡¯t come down to one last futile stand again. ¡°So.¡± James said suddenly. ¡°What if I send you to get some sleep, and you can banish my dumb ass when you get back?¡± Nate snorted at him. ¡°I can take short rests here.¡± He jerked his thumb at a couch sitting in the adjoining room. The old piece of furniture looked like it had more holes than cushion. James wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he rounded the corner to get a full view of it, and saw springs sticking out of it like a cartoon prop. It was so beat up that the owners had left it here when they sold the place, and they¡¯d taken the shower curtains. ¡°Uh huh.¡± He said, dryer than even Planner¡¯s pen scratch tone. ¡°Fuck off.¡± Nate snapped without any heat. ¡°I¡¯ve got time. It¡¯s not like they¡¯re going to show up now anyway.¡± JP snapped his head up from where he was looking over Ben¡¯s shoulder at the hastily assembled set of monitors. ¡°Don¡¯t say that.¡± ¡°The world isn¡¯t a goddamn movie.¡± Nate reminded him. ¡°Besides, we¡¯ll see them coming actual literal miles away, unless they teleport in.¡± ¡°Oh sweet Jesus, stop saying things like that.¡± JP reiterated. ¡°I know you don¡¯t believe it, I know it¡¯s stupid, but man, you¡¯re going to get us killed.¡± James gave a grudging nod. ¡°Much as I hate to give JP credit-¡° ¡°Hey!¡± ¡°-I¡¯ve been around one too many ironic twists in my day to think that you should tempt fate.¡± He finished. ¡°Though, that said, we actually don¡¯t have any proof that saying shit like that does anything, so it¡¯s probably fine. It¡¯s just that if something does go wrong, you¡¯ll never live it down.¡± He shrugged. ¡°So it¡¯s kind of a trade off?¡± Ben chose that moment to clear his throat. ¡°Uh. Guys?¡± ¡°No.¡± Nate barked out the word. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡± ¡°Tapped traffic cams show eight vehicles headed this direction. About ten miles away. I¡¯m looking back on their trail and I think they¡¯re all rentals from the airport.¡± Ben¡¯s fingers flicked at his keyboard, chunking through stolen video feeds in thirty second intervals as fast as he could process them. ¡°So no teleporting. But¡­¡± JP sighed, and rolled his head around to look at Nate. ¡°But?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not fucking apologizing.¡± Nate stomped out of the room, calling out to the other Order members who were still working on something else in the farmhouse. ¡°Incoming! Move your asses! We¡¯ve got five minutes! Get that concealed and rigged up!¡± James wasn¡¯t sure what he was yelling about, but he had something more important to ask. ¡°What¡¯s our plan?¡± He directed it at JP and Ben, but JP had clipped a skulljack braid in and was in rapid communication with the teams around the area. Ben was still checking the feeds from cameras and drones that he had access to; drones over the roads leading to the area being especially valuable in the more rural area that just didn¡¯t have as many intersection cameras to siphon off of. ¡°If they can¡¯t teleport, and if they¡¯re only coming here¡­ we could just leave, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Ben said. ¡°The big question that Nate hasn¡¯t made a call on is what to do with the prisoner.¡± ¡°I want to talk to them.¡± ¡°Talk to¡­ her? You already did. We all did. She¡¯s an asshole.¡± Ben glanced back at James. ¡°No, you don¡¯t mean¡­¡± James nodded. ¡°I want to talk to the people coming in here. I want to offer them an opportunity to resolve this peacefully, and I want to actually see what they have to say. Maybe get something useful out of it too.¡± Ben stared at him. So did JP, who was still subconsciously moving his mouth as he talked to distant people. So did Planner, but that was just because Planner tended to stare at anyone within range. ¡°Figured.¡± Nate said, coming in as the herald of a pair of the Order¡¯s normally basement-dwelling engineers who were running wire along the base of the walls. ¡°Okay. There¡¯s three things you need to know first.¡± JP raised his hand to the side. ¡°And then I have one thing too.¡± ¡°Go for it.¡± James gave a tiny nod to them both. ¡°One, if things go wrong, we¡¯re going to try to cut down as many of them as possible, then get out.¡± ¡°I¡¯m okay with that.¡± James said. It was grim, but if Status Quo was insistent on enforcing an unfair and brutal¡­ well¡­ status quo¡­ then they weren¡¯t the kind of people who the Order of Endless Rooms could coexist with anyway. Nate nodded. ¡°Two. If they¡¯re willing to resolve it without shooting, you let them take the prisoner and go.¡± He met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°I fuckin know you don¡¯t like it. I don¡¯t care. This is how we do things, so that war doesn¡¯t become the absolute worst humanity has to offer.¡± He glanced up at one of Planner¡¯s drifting tentacles. ¡°Whatever we are has to offer.¡± He corrected, badly. ¡°I can do that too.¡± James¡¯ voice was quieter. But he did sort of understand. ¡°But they have to know that we¡¯ll still fight them if they try this shit again.¡± He got a look from Nate, and sighed. ¡°I will not purposefully antagonize them. What¡¯s the third thing?¡± Nate kept the stare for a minute before he glanced at the engineers and nodded once. ¡°The building is rigged to blow, and I want you to sit on the trigger and teleport out when they start shooting at you.¡± Almost complete silence took over the room. The only interruption to the stillness was one of the engineers - one of the bomb makers, James realized - whispering something to Nate before the duo ran back to link up with a camraconda and another human and teleport out. Slowly, he started to clap. He didn¡¯t keep it up for long, but he wanted to let Nate know he appreciated the attention to drama. ¡°I can do that.¡± James said, much firmer than the other two statements from him. ¡°Get me a chair. JP, what was your thing?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± JP looked almost entirely unconcerned about the dramatic turn, like he was distracted by something. ¡°Oh, right. Yeah, don¡¯t sit down, you dumbass. I have mentally prepared a second option for you; I call it ¡®a phone¡¯.¡± He held up a flip phone that he was entirely comfortable sacrificing. ¡°Now help Ben get his hardware out of here, and I¡¯ll leave this in a conspicuous place.¡± James pursed his lips in consideration. He had sort of gotten caught up in the drama of the situation. And JP¡¯s solution was safer and easier in almost every way. So he joined the others in scrambling over the next few minutes to get their stuff teleported out, and secure the prisoner on the couch that might count as a war crime. And then, before he forgot, he texted his partners. They might not be awake yet, but at least there¡¯d be a record in their group chat if he died doing something stupid, and they¡¯d know he loved them very much. The last time a Status Quo had hunted down the Order, it had been a disaster. This time, James watched them through an overhead drone feed, and knew this one would be too. Just not for the people that the incoming agents expected. Chapter 251 ¡°The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.¡± -Ursula K. LeGuin, Those Who Walk Away From Omelas- _____ They teleported to a safehouse; one of many that Nate had apparently set up when he had a free day, which just made James even more curious what the rogues were actually doing. It was kind of funny, but also, he was zero percent okay with a secret cabal within the Order that didn¡¯t explain their actions and weren¡¯t accountable to anyone. That wasn¡¯t really what he wanted to focus on right now, though. ¡°Audio¡¯s coming through.¡± Ben said, looking down at the laptop he seemed to have become inseparable from. ¡°Should I be recording this or something?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± James nodded, doing some basic stretches like he was warming up for an afternoon exercising and not preparing for a phone call with his newest enemies. ¡°The last time I talked to one of these assholes, I only had my own memory as a record, and even though we can share those now, it¡¯s still really unreliable.¡± He dropped his arms with a sigh of content relief. ¡°It¡¯d be nice if everyone could hear this one. Even if I screw it up. Heck, especially if I screw it up.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t ideologically undermine our entire organization.¡± JP said in passing as he walked past where they were set up, heading to the small apartment¡¯s bathroom. ¡°We don¡¯t want to make Squo propaganda for them.¡± He added loudly from down the hall as he threw the door shut with a heavy clunk. James snorted softly. ¡°Wasn¡¯t planning on screwing up that badly.¡± He muttered. He was going to keep complaining about JP¡¯s quip, but a comforting presence settled into reality around him drew his attention. ¡°Hey Zhu.¡± James said aloud as the orange feathers of his friend on his shoulder and arm announced the navigator¡¯s active state. ¡°How¡¯re you doing?¡± ¡°Tired. Why are you up this early, and where are we?¡± Zhu asked, sounding mildly curious mixed with equally mildly confused. ¡°Rogue safehouse, apparently.¡± James said. ¡°Is this place reading as weird to you?¡± Zhu fluttered in response, one large eye forming and blinking at the walls of the mostly unfurnished apartment. ¡°It tastes bad.¡± ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s just takeout containers in the trash no one has emptied.¡± James snarked. ¡°But also, hey. Remind me to get Deb to feed you insulin later to see if that¡¯s possible. Not right now though because I¡¯m gonna try to pry information out of a Status Quo kill team that got sent after us and is closing in on the now-empty pumpkin farm.¡± The navigator flicked his ethereal feathers at James¡¯ face, getting a sputter in reply. ¡°I am not even two years old and I already have the context to know that you aren¡¯t supposed to say things that stupid, that casually.¡± ¡°You¡¯re stealing an imprint of my own personality, you don¡¯t get to pretend you¡¯re a baby!¡± James was grinning as he twisted his own arm away so that Zhu couldn¡¯t keep trying to poke him. ¡°But yeah. I¡¯ll be doing that¡­ soon?¡± He looked over at Ben and Nate with a cock of his eyebrow. The two men were looking at something on Ben¡¯s screen. Nate silently held up three fingers without turning back to James; Status Quo were close. Personally, James didn¡¯t think they¡¯d actually just drive their rented SUVs into the parking lot and charge in with their guns out. So three minutes might be a bit of a worst case scenario. Then again, this was a version of the group that had tried to kidnap or murder three high school students and one guidance counselor, not just in broad daylight, but at the high school, during class hours. So it was entirely possible that ¡®thinking through plans beforehand¡¯ just wasn¡¯t a Status Quo strength. James knew they weren¡¯t actually the same group, but they sure looked pretty fucking similar in what they were doing, if not exactly why. He¡¯d know why soon enough. If he could get any answers out of them, that was. James hadn¡¯t realized he was clenching a fist until Zhu tried to pull his fingers apart. He sheepishly let go, just in time for a pop of air to signal the arrival of a group of people in the apartment. Alanna and Arrush, he knew, but the two camracondas were unfamiliar to him. Rufus was a surprise, sitting on Alanna¡¯s head like he belonged there. The last person was a kid - an actual kid, not just someone any amount younger than James - one of the older high school students that were participating in the Order¡¯s arranged mixed species extracurricular activities. Out of everyone, he and one of the camracondas looked the most out of place. ¡°Sup?¡± James asked. ¡°Got your text.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Good job not getting yourself killed! This is why I love you; always adapting!¡± She shot him a thumbs up as Rufus scurried down her arm. The strider elicited a shocked twitch out of Alanna as his pen legs carried him across to her hand where he leapt off and onto the scratched up kitchen counter of the empty apartment. James bumped his own loose fist, along with Zhu¡¯s own clawed hand by proxy, into Alanna¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m capable of learning. Why¡¯s everyone here?¡± He asked, fully stating his actual question. ¡°Especially the kids.¡± ¡°We are moving together. Picking up your stragglers.¡± The other non-child camraconda said. It was hard for James to actually tell camraconda ages, but it did seem to hold true that Officium Mundi had made a change to the style of its creations within the last few years. All the older camracondas, all the ones that had come from their hidden tower that the Order had first liberated, had boxy camera heads and thicker, dull colored cabling. And those styles did still show up in the Office. But also, there were different variants out there in the dungeon¡¯s wilds. The younger one here had a smoother black dome with a shrouded lens inside for an eye, and a line of red diamond shaped LEDs down its spine. Which didn¡¯t specifically mean it was a kid, but it did make them stand out as not from the one that James recognized as one of those older rescues, even if he didn¡¯t know their name. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a field trip.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Which I sternly disprove of, because we¡¯re still sort of in a combat zone, even if there¡¯s hopefully zero chance Squo finds us here. These guys are taking the people who came with you back down to Townton. Conserving telepads. We can make a ton of them but no sense wasting the things, eh?¡± James nodded in agreement as the members of the Order that had come along with them when they¡¯d left the farm, the couple engineers and the last Recovery members who had been clearing the farmhouse, making sure no stolen documents were missed or opportunities were left behind, linked up with some of the new arrivals. They gave James respectful or exhausted waves and nods as they teleported away, leaving Alanna, Rufus, and Arrush behind. ¡°So, what about you?¡± He asked. ¡°We¡¯re here for support.¡± She said simply, Arrush nodding along with her. ¡°Either if we do get shot at, or if you just need someone to tell you why the shit they¡¯re saying is¡­ uh¡­ shit.¡± ¡°I could do that.¡± JP countered as he walked out of the bathroom, crossing his arms at her. ¡°So could I, you¡¯re not special.¡± Zhu shot back from his spot on James¡¯ shoulder. Alanna stepped between them. ¡°Boys, please. We can all tell James to not believe the words of the evil secret cult. What¡¯s important-¡° ¡°You know I have a coherent worldview, right?¡± James asked them, slightly annoyed. ¡°Also, Nate, how¡¯re we looking?¡± Nate finally turned to look back at them. ¡°Some assholes showed up in our safehouse to flirt with our negotiator, is how we¡¯re doing.¡± He ground out the words. ¡°And they¡¯re taking their time, but approaching the main building.¡± He made a motion, and James left Arrush and Alanna to figure out where they should sit in the barren apartment while he went over to watch the camera feeds. Traffic feeds weren¡¯t the only thing the Order had access to. Sometimes, it paid to just set up your own security cameras, and that was what Ben had them watching now, with help from Planner to display extra windows that the laptop didn¡¯t helpfully provide. James watched over the friend¡¯s shoulder, getting a good view of the different angles of approach to the farm, both the cluster of buildings and the main fields. There was no sign of the vehicles themselves, so they must have just left them on the street, but the Status Quo agents looked comically out of place trudging through the dry ditches and overgrown weeds that ringed the property. Suit jackets and slacks, like they were extras in an office sitcom. The weapons they were carrying didn¡¯t really make them look much better, it just shifted it so they were more like extras in a bad FBI drama. Keeping count of them was a challenge for James. Fortunately, he was the worst person at that game in the room, and while Nate and Ben seemed to be keeping their own tally under their breaths, Planner just stuck a number up and tagged each individual agent on the cameras. Sometimes James was curious exactly how much mental might Planner had to bring to bear, but he¡¯d ask about that later when it was less of a tense moment. The twenty six agents approached cautiously. It was obvious when they saw the chunk of their own secret prison because there was a clear pause and a tenuous raising of guns and blades. It was also clear from how they moved in the open that these were people who just weren¡¯t afraid of being shot; James hadn¡¯t had a ton of time to run drills with other members of the Order, but Nate had made damn sure that he¡¯d gotten some basics down, and cover use was one of them. The way the Squo people just moved in a line like they were doing a Civil War reenactment was almost painful to watch. But it was important, because they weren¡¯t stupid. They could use unconventional tactics and not worry about the big empty space of the gravel lot and pumpkin field because being in the open wasn¡¯t a problem for them. Not in the same way it would be for anyone else. Still, there was no one left in the area to challenge them, so while they may have felt tense, they closed the gap without incident. Half of them started circling where the disc of concrete floor from the stolen building had tipped sideways and was holding the whole thing up. A few of them, covered by the others, even moved under and onto it, checking the three or four now empty cells on the edge, or seeing where the line of the teleport had cut through the floor and left part of the thing hanging suspended in a dirt crater. The rest moved on. The Order¡¯s blanket of cameras on the site wasn¡¯t perfect, so James only sort of caught when some of them broke off to check the tractor shed, or the larger barn. They¡¯d find those places empty too, except of the Status Quo bodies. The remainder of the dead had been moved to the Lair, where Recovery would work on informing next of kin and laying them to rest. All in all, the farm they¡¯d come to raid following their tracking signal was silent, except for the summer breeze and the noise of the birds and occasional cars passing on the rural road nearby. The only signs the Order of Endless Rooms had been there at all were the stolen concrete, the splatters of fresh greenery like dripped paint on the landscape wherever the chanters had been milling around, and one more thing. The first agent into the farmhouse spotted the camera watching the door instantly. The way the man¡¯s face twisted into a snarl of pure rage upon seeing it actually took James aback. He was taking this personally, in a way that hadn¡¯t been there before. Though, to be fair, James had probably shot a lot of his friends, even if it hadn¡¯t actually gotten through. The camera was promptly unplugged, but it was far from the only one they had in the building. Others came in from the kitchen door, or the attached garage, men and women dressed like they were on their way to be late for a meeting coming in with guns up and the intent to kill anyone they ran across. But there was no one there to greet them. Well, there was one person upstairs, but she was still tied up. It took them almost no time at all to find the phone. Currently on a call, though not specifically to the phone James was holding. They weren¡¯t taking chances on this one. The first agent to see the old flip phone on the table looked like he was planning to either shoot or interrogate it at gunpoint. He also kept his gun trained on the back of the next agent to approach it, who did pick it up. As if he was prepared to kill his teammate if he got infected with a hostile meme or something. James had thought that derisively as he watched on the cameras, but as soon as he articulated it, he realized that was a perfectly normal fear for people in their line of work to have. He would have just¡­ not had it, exactly. Because of Zhu, or Planner, or any of the other Order-aligned infomorphs. Just like with how they moved in the open, how they answered the phone told James something valuable about these people. Status Quo didn¡¯t have memetic defenses. The man on the camera feed picked up the phone, saw it was on a call, and slowly raised it to his ear as two others joined them in the room. James could dimly hear a cry through the farmhouse for their companions to get in there over the line, but he was focused now on his new conversation partner. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± James spoke first, before the agent could get a word in. ¡°Who is this?¡± The agent demanded, with no attempt at polite conversation. James raised his eyebrows, looking around the safehouse with a mock offended look. He ignored Nate shaking his head back at him; he already knew not to reveal anything, they¡¯d hashed out a rough outline of this conversation in advance. ¡°Who do you represent? Wolfpack? Administration? Or do you think you¡¯re a hero?¡± And that was why. All he had to do was say good afternoon, and someone who wasn¡¯t prepared would offer up delicious gobs of gooey intelligence. James blinked to himself. ¡°I might be hungry.¡± He muttered under his breath. Then louder, into the phone; ¡°Let¡¯s leave who I¡¯m with aside for now. How¡¯s your day going? Not great, I¡¯m guessing?¡± On the camera, the man with the phone tensed as one of the other agents approached while unfolding a laptop of their own. The agent spoke with a badly stilted tone as they held the phone out and let their companion try different connector cables before finding one that fit the older flip phone. ¡°My day has been going very well.¡± They said slowly. ¡°Stalling for time.¡± Nate commented with a thin bark of laughter. ¡°That won¡¯t work.¡± James agreed. But it did mean he had a semi-captive audience for at least as long as it took them to realize their trace of the phone call wouldn¡¯t get them anywhere. ¡°Okay. So. Let¡¯s get to business.¡± He said, losing some of the friendly attitude he¡¯d opened with. James was relying on his skill ranks in negotiation and etiquette that might match up to people like this to guide how he pulled the strings on the conversation, and further leaning on having the advantage of seeing body language when the other man couldn¡¯t see him. ¡°Your organization recently experienced an¡­ asset loss¡­¡± James felt gross even saying that. ¡°And I¡¯d like to tell you to let it go.¡± ¡°You attacked us, stole our property, were responsible for valuable personnel deaths, and you want us to forget you were a problem and write it off?¡± The man sounded incredulous. He glanced back to the others, one of whom shrugged at him and made a ¡®keep him talking¡¯ motion. ¡°Are you insane?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James said so cheerfully that it got quiet snickers out of Alanna and Zhu. The sounds of the others in the room with him gave him a comfortable smile as he did what the other man wanted and kept talking. ¡°To the first part. Maybe the second. But mostly the first. Write it off, back off, stop hunting us, stop trying to recover what you lost, and forget this ever happened. And we¡¯ll let you.¡± Nearby, Ben abruptly elbowed JP to get his attention at a movement on the feed. The agent with the laptop looked up and nodded, as if confirming something, but there was no indication that they intended to end the call. Instead, an older man entered the frame from the side, and took the phone, still connected to the laptop. The agents who were still training their guns on their speaker also lowered them, which meant something. If they were worried about an intohazard before, they weren¡¯t now. So they weren¡¯t tracing anything, they were securing the call. ¡°Zhu, Planner.¡± James said, covering his phone. ¡°Keep an eye out for anything coming back along the connection. Scream if I need to hang up.¡± He put the phone back to his ear just in time to hear a man¡¯s voice speak, confident and firm. ¡°You cannot seriously believe that we would listen to this idiotic request, could you?¡± James sighed. This was more his element. Mouthing off to an authority figure. ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡± He said, keeping up the veneer of cheer. ¡°But I figured I¡¯d make the offer. You seem like you¡¯re more in charge, wanna tell me who I¡¯m speaking to?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Kay. So, here¡¯s the deal, in clear text.¡± James said. ¡°My people and I don¡¯t like fighting. Not really. We¡¯re not pacifists, but we¡¯d rather everyone get along. But that means everyone, so when someone like you comes along, running your secret prisons and using slaves as livestock to power up your people, we take offense to that.¡± The man on the other end gave an equally cheerful laugh. ¡°And you think that because you managed to steal from one facility, that you have the moral high ground?¡± ¡°No, I think that we have the tactical high ground. I know we¡¯re morally superior, because we don¡¯t breed people just to kill them. Try to keep up.¡± James no longer had a happy tone, and he could see the way his friends looked at him as he started to get mad. So he took a deep breath, and got back on track. ¡°The thing is, I¡¯ve met people like you before. I¡¯m sure you just wanna keep the world safe. And I get that. We do too. So I¡¯d like to offer you the chance to evaluate what you¡¯re doing, and change, so we don¡¯t need to be enemies.¡± ¡°Oh, boy.¡± The man¡¯s words put James on edge instantly, which he realized through the filter of his skill ranks was entirely the point. Knowing when someone was intentionally aggravating him actually made it surprisingly easy to not care about it, which helped him calm down instantly. ¡°Do you think you¡¯re helping anyone? You¡¯ve unleashed a plague on the world.¡± James somehow refrained from asking how the man knew about the Underburbs. Actually, he joked to himself about it being ¡®somehow¡¯, but really, it was getting easier to dismiss the dude the more he spoke. Still, that demanded an answer. ¡°Which part?¡± James asked. ¡°Your prisoners, your other prisoners, or a more literal plague you were hiding in your offices?¡± On the camera, the man twirled a hand near his head, as if forgetting that James shouldn¡¯t be able to see him. ¡°The people are unimportant. Oh, they¡¯re bad for humanity, don¡¯t make a mistake. But they can be recaptured, or will be handled by other safeguards. And we might take extreme measures, but we would never tinker with bioweapons. No, you know damn well what you¡¯ve done. You probably think you¡¯re quite the savior, don¡¯t you? Letting a bunch of poor, maligned beasts free from their cages?¡± ¡°Kinda, yeah.¡± James agreed. ¡°That could be my motto, honestly.¡± ¡°Do you have any idea what they are?¡± The agent laughed at him. ¡°They¡¯re monsters, you stupid child. You¡¯ve let them go to run rampant, and now they will multiply, and overrun the local area, and it will be months before we can round them up and put them back in their containment. You¡¯ve caused real human deaths here, with what you did.¡± James flicked his eyes to JP, who gave a smug nod. Status Quo had no idea where the chanters were. ¡°We¡¯ll handle it.¡± He said simply. ¡°You can go now.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t.¡± The agent replied with utter self assurance. ¡°You¡¯re not freeing prisoners; they can¡¯t even think. You¡¯re just dumping an invasive species into the wild¡¯s of¡­ Oregon?¡­ and assuming that you¡¯re the good guy for doing it. This is why containment is important. This is why safeguard exists. Because petulant little children like you cannot cope with the idea that hard choices are necessary, and that disrupting the world is a bad idea.¡± There was a scratching sound from behind James, and a soft ¡°Yo¡± from Alanna. He turned his head, still listening to the trail end of the asshole¡¯s little speech, to see his partner sitting on the kitchen counter and Arrush next to her frantically writing something on a folded notebook. When the ratroach held it up with two of his left arms, James quickly read the words on it. ¡°Lying. SQ records of int tests. They know shells smart.¡± His mouth warped into a thin line. It was hard to have a conversation with someone who was willing to casually lie about something as fundamental as their own recorded facts. Which sort of meant that as far as an ethics debate went, this was right out the window. But at least he could try to get some usable intel out of the man. James ran through a couple responses, dismissing the point about how they were hypocrites for not killing the chanters if they thought the creatures were a threat. Instead he settled on something designed to provoke a response. ¡°Look, Oregon is half invasive species anyway. It¡¯ll be fine.¡± The implication that the chanters were still in Oregon would act as a casual smokescreen for their actual location being ¡®literally anywhere else¡¯. ¡°Oh yes, I¡¯m sure the alien megafauna will fit right into the region.¡± The agent sarcastically replied. ¡°Yeah, like horses. Look.¡± James tried another approach. ¡°Here¡¯s my bottom line. You aren¡¯t equipped to fight us, and you don¡¯t have to either. You want to keep people safe, so do we. Release any other prisoners you¡¯re holding, and work with us, and I promise you¡¯ll get better results.¡± There was a snort that didn¡¯t carry well over the bridged connection. ¡°No.¡± Was the admittedly efficient reply. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. The level of change you¡¯re trying to bring about, it¡¯s not survivable for humanity. You might make progress at first, but all too soon if left to your own devices, you will find yourself overwhelmed. And everyone around you will pay the price.¡± James felt like this might be coming from somewhere personal. He shared a look with Zhu, the infomorph on his shoulder twisting and shifting as he kept an eye on the connection, but still taking a moment to look at James with earnest curiosity for the journey this particular agent had been on. ¡°You used to be a delver.¡± James heard himself say out loud as soon as he realized it. ¡°Is that what your generation calls it? Well. You don¡¯t need to know either way.¡± ¡°Is that what this is? You fucked up, and you think everyone else would fuck up the same way?¡± James demanded. ¡°It¡¯s not too late to change.¡± The agent laughed at him. ¡°Change is the entire problem.¡± He stated firmly, a hint of real anger creeping into the words. ¡°Every time the world changes, men die. Mundane or supernatural, it doesn¡¯t matter. Do you know how many people ridesharing apps killed? It wasn¡¯t zero. And you want that, but with real power? No. No, we will not be working with you. Quite the opposite, really.¡± ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not sure I understand your point.¡± James gave an incredulous look to the people around him. Alanna was mouthing swear words at him to repeat, which he ignored. ¡°Are you saying that technological advancement is bad? Like, are you anti-airplane or something?¡± He let out a hum, and then corrected himself. ¡°Actually, let¡¯s skip that and cut to the real point. You say change is destructive. I say change is where everything cool in the world comes from. My dude, we are talking on cell phones. Come on.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Humans aren¡¯t equipped to handle the supernatural.¡± The agent told him with a shake of his head on the camera. ¡°When you give someone an advantage, they invariably use it to cause harm. Over and over we see people, normal people, corrupted by the power that they acquire. Our mandate is to stop them before they get out of control, and we have another unmanable crisis on our hands.¡± JP spoke to the other two rogues off to the side. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did this dumbass imply that Lyft is magic? Is that what we all heard?¡± He muttered. James almost laughed at it, but he was too busy being irate. Keeping on track, James tried to angle for names. ¡°Who, exactly, do you think has gone mad with power?¡± He asked. And then added a piece of information that he knew the agent already had. ¡°Harlan? I mean, I¡¯m not gonna argue about them, but I somehow doubt that¡¯s normal.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t a single person, or even a group. No, not even Harlan and their little¡­ unit¡­¡± The agent told him with a grimace. ¡°It is in aggregate. Humanity should be for humans. When people become twisted by power, by the supernatural and mystical, they become something other. Something wrong. And their influence is disproportionate.¡± He paused, and James measured the time as almost exactly what his negotiation skill told him was the right amount to drive home a point. ¡°You say we could work with you. Well let me tell you this. It isn¡¯t too late for you to surrender yourself to us. Come join the right side of history. The only side that will ever last longer than a single generation.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll consider it.¡± James let the lie dance over his lips. ¡°You know, you talk about keeping people from getting too powerful, and, like, I¡¯ve got some words about billionaires for you. But you know I wasn¡¯t the only one hitting your territory, right? Like, did you miss the girls in plate mail flattening your foot soldiers?¡± The man looked around at the other agents in the room, staying silent on the line as he pointed at two of them and waited for them to leave. ¡°Ah, yes.¡± He told James after the two were gone. ¡°Them. Cultists of the worst kind. On that front, we would be willing to offer an alliance, at least when required to repel them.¡± ¡°¡­seriously?¡± James asked, watching Nate¡¯s head snap up to stare at him with wide eyes. ¡°Uh¡­ you wanna tell me why?¡± ¡°They are believers in powers that humanity cannot afford the attention of. And they are attracted to the smell of the mystic, like sharks to blood. Staying two steps ahead of their activities is a constant battle. The other day was simply¡­ bad timing.¡± ¡°And so you want them gone, because they¡¯re¡­ what, calling down the wrong gods?¡± ¡°Fundamentally, yes.¡± The man said easily. ¡°Humanity cannot survive a world with things like their masters in it.¡± James moved the phone away from his ear and stared at it with disbelief. Muting the connection briefly, he looked around the room. ¡°How in the dark are these guys?¡± He asked. ¡°Does he not know the pillars are here now?¡± ¡°Keep him talking.¡± Nate said bluntly. ¡°We don¡¯t know if this is the end of what he knows.¡± ¡°Keep him talking.¡± Planner added. ¡°Because his ritualist with the laptop is trying something and I want to see where this goes.¡± ¡°Keep him talking becuase this is fucking hilarious.¡± Alanna called from her seat on the kitchen counter. James sighed and shifted the phone to his other hand, letting Zhu flow back from where the navigator was manifested around his fingers before he put it back to his ear and unmuted himself. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Temporary alliances aside, I just need to ask. Do you realize that you¡¯re hypocrites?¡± He took advantage of the fact that the Status Quo agent clearly wanted him to stay on the line to take a shot at his integrity. ¡°Because you say that humanity can¡¯t handle magic, can¡¯t handle change, and that powers corrupt people, but you¡¯re wandering around bulletproof.¡± The man smirked on the camera feed, like he¡¯d somehow trapped James in his rhetoric. ¡°As are you.¡± He said. ¡°The only difference is which of us acknowledges it is something to be fought.¡± ¡°My dude, I might be one of the early adopters for magic, but I¡¯m not gatekeeping it.¡± James said. ¡°Imagine a world where everyone was bulletproof. You don¡¯t think that might be better, somehow? I mean, pick a power that doesn¡¯t require murdering people you¡¯ve been keeping as livestock, but whatever. You get my point.¡± If the agent did get his point, he didn¡¯t say it. Instead, he turned his head as someone else ran into the room where the small cluster of Status Quo personnel were lingering as the conversation continued. The woman who¡¯d just entered whispered something to the agent on the phone, who nodded and spoke again to James like nothing had happened. ¡°You left my subordinate alive.¡± He said. ¡°Consider it a gesture of goodwill. We don¡¯t execute prisoners.¡± James said dryly. ¡°Hm.¡± The agent hummed at him. ¡°It¡¯s almost impressive how much more restraint you have than the sorts of people I¡¯m used to dealing with.¡± ¡°I refuse to accept that compliment since I know you deal with Harlan.¡± James quipped before he could stop himself. ¡°Alright, look. This is going nowhere. Here¡¯s my last offer; you want to keep people safe, and I get it. But by claiming that you¡¯re the sole authority on the subject of the future of humanity, you¡¯re denying every human the right to choose their own path, or even who their friends are if those friends happen to be another species. And yeah, don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice that you use the word ¡®human¡¯ a lot, when you know there¡¯s nonhuman life out there. So let¡¯s set up a real talk. Sit down. Hash this out. Figure out how you can protect the world, without kidnapping delvers, without keeping people as livestock, without the clandestine murder and torture and shit. Okay?¡± On the cameras, the agent looked sideways to hear something from the Status Quo member who had stopped tapping at the laptop and was holding one finger over a single key, looking back at him with an expectant stare. James barely heard a sigh through the connection. ¡°You know?¡± The agent said. ¡°I almost want to believe you. It sounds so nice when you take out all the death and despair you¡¯ll cause. But those with power cannot ever be trusted with it.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± James agreed vehemently. ¡°Like fucking you guys!¡± He was getting increasingly frustrated, and the agent wasn¡¯t actually giving up any useful intel. ¡°It¡¯s been a pleasure speaking with you. Almost enough to offset what it will take to clean up your mess. Goodbye, ¡®delver¡¯.¡± The agent nodded once at his tech, and the other man dramatically rapped their finger down onto the laptop¡¯s keyboard as the agent held the connected phone out away from his head. No one in the safehouse said anything. And then Planner¡¯s tentacles shifted into a fractal net, and there was a sensation of something ripping. ¡°I-¡° Nate cut his hand across the air as Planner started to speak, and tapped his own ear. The infomorph sheepishly condensed their manifestation, sliding around Nate¡¯s neck to whisper to him. James opened his mouth to say something over the silent line, when Nate cut him off with another slash of his hand. JP, also listening to Planner, held a finger up to his lips, and mimed dropping the phone. So James shrugged and did so, letting it clatter to the floor. On the camera feed, the agent and the tech nodded to each other, and the suited Status Quo commander politely closed the flip phone before setting it back on the chair that his subordinate had found it on. There was an exchange of words, but the surveillance didn¡¯t have an audio feed. ¡°So¡­¡± Alanna¡¯s voice almost made James jump as it cut through the silence. ¡°Kill command.¡± Planner said. ¡°I would call it childish if it weren¡¯t made by people older than myself. It took them time to set it up, and I believe it would have only harmed James himself. The air gap method lessened it significantly, but it would have been trivial to block regardless.¡± James looked at the phone on the floor. ¡°For anyone you¡¯re screening.¡± He said softly. ¡°Ah, yes.¡± Planner agreed matter of factly. ¡°Any unprotected human would be badly affected by it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ kinda terrifying?¡± Ben spoke up. ¡°They can kill people over the phone? What?¡± Alanna hopped off the counter and paced over to stand behind James, leaning on his shoulders, and by association, partly on Zhu. ¡°Not the first time we¡¯ve dealt with this kinda thing. Sometimes infomorphs can stop people¡¯s hearts.¡± ¡°Conditionally. A new assignment or navigator couldn¡¯t. A lot of species I don¡¯t think could at all. Memeplexes can if you spend so long in them they get their hooks in.¡± JP spoke up, though he still glared at the phone on the floor, and then back up at Planner. ¡°Next time don¡¯t take that risk.¡± He said, more snippish than his normal suave and languid voice. ¡°I had it contained.¡± Planner replied, pulling away to drift on unseen currents in the air over the center of the mostly empty room. JP¡¯s nose twitched, like he was suppressing a sneer or a snarl. ¡°And what if you missed?¡± He asked. ¡°Whatever. Nate?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Nate held up a different phone with an undialed number on the screen. ¡°Want them gone?¡± He asked, pointing at the displays from around the farmhouse. It took a brief moment for James to remember that the farmhouse was still inundated with explosives, and to connect the phone in Nate¡¯s heavy hand to the act of detonation. And from there, to the seeming easy choice of whether or not to push that button. ¡°Uh¡­¡± James said, instead of a real answer. ¡°They did just try to kill you.¡± Ben pointed out. ¡°Also, also, fuck ¡®em.¡± Alanna added. ¡°Like, okay, sure, rules of warfare and all that. But this is just shooting back at someone shooting at you, right?¡± James glanced down at Zhu, who just gave a feathery shrug with an extra manifested arm, unbothered either way. He was about to say something, but Arrush spoke up and surprised him. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± The ratroach said, quintet of eyes locked on Nate while he shook slightly with unspoken anxiety. ¡°Why not?¡± James asked. ¡°Actually, why not. Because I¡¯d like a reason to not kill anyone, but these assholes¡­¡± Arrush twisted his chitinous neck to focus on James. ¡°We don¡¯t have to.¡± He answered in a rasping voice. Breathing was coming easier to him now, but speaking was still a bit rough even with enough air to do it. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡± The ratroach, taller than everyone else in the room, imposing and built explicitly to be a threat to human life, nervously broke eye contact to stare at the floor. And James sighed at his words. ¡°That¡¯s the best argument so far.¡± He admitted. ¡°But Alanna¡¯s right. Nate and JP are right too, though they¡¯re not arguing out loud. I want to say they¡¯re potential short term allies against the pillars who might try to kill us, I want to say they¡¯re redeemable, but I also want to point out that everyone in that building went there to recover their breeding population of slaves and then they lied to and tried to kill me during what could have been a civil conversation?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Nate pushed the button on the phone. It was so anticlimactic, it was hard to process what had just happened. Nothing in the empty rented apartment changed, except Arrush looking away sharply and Alanna sliding off James to bump her shoulder comfortingly into the big ratroach. But something, somewhere, had just gone horribly wrong for a lot of people. ¡°I wasn¡¯t actually done monologuing.¡± James cleared his throat awkwardly as the camera feeds from the farm cut out abruptly. Deftly pulling the older cell phone apart and stripping out the battery and SIM card, Nate answered without looking up. ¡°Yes you were.¡± He said. ¡°Alright, fine.¡± James admitted. ¡°So, what now? Do we¡­ do we go deal with whoever is left?¡± He watched as Ben and Planner cycled through other angles of more intact surveillance. ¡°Because¡­¡± The two angles they still had intact showed an utter ruin of a building. The farmhouse was still, somehow, standing, but it was engulfed in flames and already listing. The upper floor had split in half, old wood and worn shingles sloughing off the side like it was a sandcastle falling into the waves. And on the ground, a hundred chunks of debris that were blown outward by the blast burned in the dirt and gravel that surrounded the building. Some, thrown farther, had already lit up the dry grass of the property. If there weren¡¯t ditches running around the property, James would have worried that they were about to be responsible for a springtime wildfire. Hell, they might still be. As soon as the remnants of the Status Quo agents cleared out, he planned to call the local fire department with a heads up. The wreckage of the building wasn¡¯t the thing that really bothered him, though. Neither was it the potential for fire damage. No, it was the way the agents who were outside, and far enough away from the blast, came running to help their companions. It took James a second of watching to realize that the few lumps on the ground scattered around the front yard of the farmhouse were people, who had been either thrown or knocked out by the concussive force of the bomb or bombs that the Order¡¯s worryingly skilled demolitions team had left behind. And the Status Quo agents knelt next to them, going through motions that even through the odd angle of the cameras were clearly medical checks. There had been twenty six agents scouring the property. And while the explosion had done a lot more than James had expected, they hadn¡¯t even cut that in half. But it was still a little terrifying and grim to see people charge toward the house before recoiling from the blaze still consuming it. ¡°They aren¡¯t fireproof.¡± He heard someone say in a dead voice. And then realized he was the one speaking. There was something he found repulsive about this. Intellectually, he didn¡¯t feel that bad about it; the people he¡¯d been talking to had literally just tried to murder him. And anything they said about working together or feeling bad about things was suspect from the moment the agent had lied to James through his teeth. No, it wasn¡¯t that they weren¡¯t a legitimate military target. It was more that it was so¡­ cold. Dispassionate. James actually would have felt better if they¡¯d been actively shooting back. This kind of distant warfare was exactly what he didn¡¯t want to become normal. Part of him wondered if this was what a military tech felt when pushing the button for a drone strike. It was so easy. Low risk, no blood on his shoes, and it didn¡¯t even really feel that bad. That last part was what felt worse. It didn¡¯t feel that bad. And maybe, actually, killing people should feel just a little bit unsettling. Or at least, James thought so. ¡°Oh look.¡± Ben said, snapping his fingers to point at one of the surviving views. ¡°That one¡¯s fireproof.¡± And sure enough, a silhouette of a person was staggering out of the inferno of the house. The building titled and finished collapsing down to a single level as the surviving Status Quo agent woozily walked out of the blaze. It might have been the older man James had talked to, but it was hard to tell. His clothes were burned away, leaving only smoldering scraps, and his skin was covered in the bubbling red flesh of fresh burns. But not nearly as bad as it should have been for someone who¡¯d walked out of a fire like that. One of the other agents spotted the walker and pointed, yelling a command, and motivating someone to run to the damaged human and hand over something from a small tube. It looked like a pill of some kind, which the unharmed agent had to help the burned man get into his mouth. It didn¡¯t reverse the burns, or seem to heal him at all really. But it was clear that everybody there had untensed as soon as the pill had been swallowed. ¡°Did we get any of those?¡± James asked softly. ¡°No.¡± Planner spoke authoritatively. ¡°Despite the volume of different forms of records recovered, we did not acquire many physical trophies of the battle.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± James grunted in mild frustration. He¡¯d love to know exactly what those little pills did, considering the woman they¡¯d taken prisoner had used one and apparently shrugged off having her throat torn open afterward. Maybe it was unrelated and she just healed fast. He healed pretty fast, though nowhere near as fast as Sarah could, and both of them had magic helping from different sources, so it was hard to look at any one thing that Status Quo used and say ¡®yeah, that, that¡¯s the thing¡¯. ¡°Okay. What now?¡± He was still breathing shallowly, bottling up his feelings for later. Right now, they were still on the clock. ¡°Now?¡± JP said, trying to claw back some of his cocky bravado. ¡°We keep watching. See what they do. Get every rogue who we trust to do it following them when they leave. Track them back to safehouses or their headquarters, assuming they weren¡¯t lying about that office not being their main site.¡± ¡°That guy lied about a lot.¡± Alanna offered. ¡°Oh, hey.¡± James had a sudden thought. ¡°Any empathy insights on that?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t really work that well over the phone, even if I could see him. But I can tell what points got you pissed off.¡± She grinned at him. ¡°Wanna guess?¡± James stared at her blankly. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t have to guess. I was the one doing it.¡± ¡°I think¡­¡± Arrush said in a quiet rumble, ¡°¡­that it was when he was talking.¡± There was a pause as James watched his friend to see if Arrush was going to say anything else. The ratroach was fidgeting with some of his claws, the smaller arms scratching at patches of chitin or wiry fur. But he stopped speaking, and it took a moment before Zhu let out a rumble of laughter. ¡°No, that¡¯s it!¡± The navigator added. ¡°He¡¯s right! You were angry every time your opponent spoke!¡± ¡°Conversations don¡¯t have¡­ you know what? I¡¯m not litigating this.¡± James laughed, still on edge, but slowly coming back to focus on the world around him, feeling less like he was drifting through his own head, and more like he was present. ¡°Yeah, screw that guy. He actually tried to kill me over the phone. Holy shit.¡± The fact actually caught up to him. ¡°What a jackass.¡± On the other side of the empty room, JP tapped his phone off and unplugged the skulljack braid from his skull. ¡°Alright. Rogues are in position.¡± He¡¯d learned from Nate, and done what he could to alleviate suspicion on the tails. No one would be following Status Quo away from a burning farmstead on a rural road that only existed to connect isolated farms to the tether of the highway network. Instead, rogues were scattered in their cars at busier intersections ten, sometimes fifteen miles away. The road only went to a few places, which made it a lot easier. And if they did head to the airport to leave, that was even easier; it only took one passing rogue to see where they were going and teleport to meet them. No dangerous chain of stalking required. ¡°And¡­ that¡¯s it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°You don¡¯t want us to, I dunno, blow up their cars or something? Didn¡¯t we steal a rocket launcher at some point for exactly this?¡± ¡°What¡¯s a rocket launcher?¡± Arrush asked, curious. James held up a hand, planning to answer that later, probably with a screening of one of his favorite Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes. ¡°Pause on that. Alanna, no blowing up rental cars, that¡¯s rude. JP, what do you mean that¡¯s it?¡± ¡°I mean, oh glorious leader, that that¡¯s it.¡± JP shrugged smoothly, flicking a finger across the side of his head in an idle motion. ¡°They go home, and we track them down and then repeat this process. Or they scatter, and dissolve as an organizational threat, and we do nothing except keep developing our security. Or they keep trying to find us, but they won¡¯t, because of Planner¡¯s hard work.¡± The ghostly sequence of tentacles shifted patterns in silent pride at JP¡¯s words. ¡°So that¡¯s it. Ideally? It¡¯s the first one. We¡¯ll observe them, hone rogue training on them, and try to get more intel about the shape of the magical world. Because¡­ fuck, you were the one who told me this two or three decades ago, man. We don¡¯t even know if there¡¯s dungeon nations or wizard guilds out there. But they might.¡± ¡°Did we ever get that orrery working?¡± James asked, remembering the thing they¡¯d liberated from the surrendered Alchemists Guild. Or Guild of Alchemists. Whatever. Nate and JP glared at him in unison. Ben looked between the two others, and then fixed James with a confused half-scowl in solidarity, but also offered a shrug to go with it. ¡°That stupid fucking thing.¡± Nate grumbled. ¡°That means no.¡± Alanna interpreted cheerfully. ¡°What is an orrery?¡± Arrush asked with a wet sigh. ¡°Or am I not allowed to learn today?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a¡­ series of objects suspended on rods or bands around a central focus, meant to emulate the movements of stars or planets or something.¡± James realized he was explaining this badly. ¡°The one we have, supposedly, is magical, and tells the relative strength of organizations? But we have no idea how to read it, or set it up, and everyone who did is dead.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Arrush nodded. Then stopped nodding, and shook his head, a few drops of corrosive blue drool splattering to the floorboards with a hiss. ¡°No, that doesn''t make sense.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I keep saying.¡± Nate gave Arrush a single jutting nod. ¡°Anyway, JP¡¯s right, annoying as that is to say. We¡¯ve got time now to prowl through the files we stole, there¡¯s no real way for Status Quo to track us, so we¡¯ll keep an eye on them and try to farm them for intel. Intervene if we have to. But aside from that¡­?¡± ¡°We¡¯re good?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°We¡¯re not good.¡± JP rolled his eyes at her. ¡°We¡¯ve got a whole new species of dependents, weird cursed liberated prisoners to get new dungeon information out of, whatever the fuck Ruby and Prince are being a nuisance to my ex, the rogues have a ton of new work because of this, we¡¯re going to need a new piece of rural property for testing whatever dangerous shit Research is playing with, and Camille.¡± ¡°What about Camille?¡± Zhu asked. ¡°She seems¡­ like Camille.¡± ¡°That, pretty much.¡± JP said. ¡°Wait, hang on. Weren¡¯t you out when she was around? How do you know that?¡± ¡°She was over for dinner. Don¡¯t you read your texts?¡± Zhu challenged JP. ¡°Don¡¯t give us that look. Someone texted you.¡± He twisted his feathers around, orange light shielding his central eye from JP¡¯s glare. Nate caught James¡¯ attention by zipping up his jacket and pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. ¡°Look, there¡¯s one thing this shitshow drove home, that should matter to you. And that¡¯s that we need more of an edge.¡± The broad man headed for the apartment¡¯s back door, which led to an untended shared lawn. ¡°Too many close calls, not enough anti-tank weapons on our part.¡± He pointed his lighter like a baton at James, Arrush, and Alanna as he stuck the end of a cigarette in his mouth and spoke around it. ¡°So get back to work. Go find something that helps us win a fight. Stop fucking curing cancer and get a magic knife that gives you laser vision or some shit.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Because it looks like the cancer cure thing would be relevant to you.¡± ¡°Fuck off.¡± Nate said by way of a goodbye as he roughly slid the back door shut. It was a little bit later, as everyone milled around and James was reluctant to leave right away just in case, that Alanna approached him. He was having a quiet conversation with Zhu about the Underburbs affliction they probably shared, and how to handle it, when his partner slid up along the bare white wall next to him. ¡°So.¡± Alanna opened with. ¡°Yeah, so.¡± James said. ¡°What now?¡± ¡°I mean, now all the things JP said.¡± James answered. ¡°Oh, this is highlighting something for me, which is that none of our core group has rogue training. We should really get someone to teach us how to be spies.¡± Alanna bopped a loose fist on his shoulder, after making sure it was the one Zhu wasn¡¯t populating. ¡°You get that we just call them rogues for fun, and they aren¡¯t super spies or some shit, right?¡± ¡°Wait, really?¡± Zhu asked with fluffed indignation in his dusty orange light. ¡°That¡¯s disappointing!¡± ¡°They¡¯re more like good listeners, if you want to be literal and unhelpful about the description.¡± James nodded. ¡°But we should still get some practice in. Especially me, if I¡¯m gonna insist on people calling me paladin.¡± Alanna gave him a smile that James couldn¡¯t quite describe as her posture softened and she leaned against him slightly. ¡°What I meant, aside from that, was, what now? For us? What do we do next?¡± ¡°We take a day off.¡± James said. ¡°And then¡­ we do what we¡¯ve been doing. We get the victims back on their feet. We work on an integration plan for the chanters. We get more magic.¡± ¡°They¡¯re gonna need a place to live, and it¡¯s not like we have the orange orbs to whip up another thousand apartments.¡± She folded her arms over her stomach as she tapped a foot and looked up at the ceiling in thought. ¡°We could get some though, I guess!¡± ¡°Subtle.¡± James smirked, and his partner laughed. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re really asking what dungeons we hit, huh?¡± Alanna turned a hungry grin back on him. ¡°Yeah. What¡¯s out there? We¡¯re not even close to hundred percenting the places we know, and we might have more dungeons coming up in the near future. We should be doing deep explorations of¡­ of everything.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said suddenly. ¡°Okay?¡± Alanna cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Okay?!¡± Zhu burst out. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s¡­ let¡¯s do that.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°Stacks first, I¡¯m thinking. There¡¯s a lot of potential there, especially in the dungeontech, but we know basically nothing about it. Climb, for sure, but that¡¯ll need a real team if we intend to spend a week in it. Maybe we can hire some sherpas. Wait, actually, do you think we could? That might be the smartest thing I¡¯ve said in months. Uh¡­ Office later, obviously. Scout it out for establishing a between-doors base. We know we can telepad out of these places, even if we can¡¯t easily telepad in and leaving fucking sucks and hurts, so we can make this work.¡± He paused and thought. ¡°Not huge teams, but bigger than we normally operate with. Twenty people, maybe? Depends on who can be spared from the current plethora of projects. Pack for two weeks at a time. Find the most exploitable resources and harvest the shit out of them. Find ways to get everyone in a hundred mile radius upgraded.¡± ¡°¡­okay.¡± Alanna said, turning back to look ahead of them at the unfurnished room and nodding. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s the hottest thing you¡¯ve said to me all week.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t need to know that, but I am also invested.¡± Zhu said. ¡°We are going to explore.¡± The infomorph radiated a thrilled excitement. ¡°Yeah.¡± James said softly. ¡°I think Nate got me thinking of something I¡¯d been trying to put together, but was missing a key thought on. I shouldn¡¯t be trying to solve problems by being like everyone else. We should be solving problems like the Order of Endless Rooms solves problems.¡± ¡°With explosives?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Nah. By finding weird magic, and figuring out how to use it to solve a completely different problem.¡± James said with a smile across the apartment to Arrush. The ratroach had just learned there were no cups in this apartment, and was trying somewhat successfully to lap up water from the tap with a thin glowing tongue. ¡°And finding whole new problems along the way.¡± Alanna followed his gaze. ¡°And then getting a crush on those problems?¡± She asked coyly. ¡°Or the other way around!¡± Zhu added unhelpfully. ¡°Problems is the wrong word.¡± James laughed at them. ¡°Opportunities.¡± He mused. ¡°Or¡­ no. Yeah, that¡¯s it. Opportunities.¡± He nodded to himself as he half-listened to Alanna saying something lewd and Zhu sputtering in defiance. Opportunities sounded like exactly what he wanted right now. A day off, maybe one more to double check on everything in Townton and make sure Status Quo was settled for now. Another low stress day or two to lay the groundwork. And then out. Into the wilds of reality. Where things were dangerous, and everywhere they looked, there were new opportunities. That was where James belonged. Not here, feeling the inky smoke of a remote bomb like it was seeping into his thoughts. Out there, where conflict was honest, and triumphs felt good. He knew that was a little naive. A little silly. But also, he knew that if he could just accrue enough magic for the Order, then maybe they could cajole this world into a shape that suited them more. A kinder place, with cooler daily lives. He hadn¡¯t been kidding when he¡¯d told Alanna that he¡¯d love something that could upgrade people in a radius. Consent pending, of course. Yeah. Out there sounded nice right now. James was looking forward to a vacation. Chapter 252 "Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group, of course, that believes that you can do these things. Among them are a few Texas oil millionaires, and an occasional politician or businessman from other areas. Their number is negligible and they are stupid." -President Dwight D. Eisenhower, Letter to his brother- _____ The next couple of days were a bit of a blur to James. He wasn¡¯t in a daze or unaware of what was going on; everything he did was deliberate and with good reason. It was just that he felt like he was in a constant state of moving from one task to the next, and he didn¡¯t really sit down that often. He was drained, but not injured. His feet hurt from endlessly standing, but it wasn¡¯t incapacitating. Just worth complaining about. It wasn¡¯t like he was at a shortage of things to do. So, while beginning to prepare for dungeon delves on a larger scope than normal, James also just ran down his checklist of important tasks. He continued to give the introductions to the Order for the Status Quo prisoners as Mercy, the hospital¡¯s comforting infomorph, broke them out of their mental cages one by one. They had a lot of questions, some of which he could easily understand and field. And once they started getting their voices back and James was able to take names, it was a soothing feeling to reunite people with their friends. As it turned out, the Order had gotten almost everyone. Not a perfect score - there were moments where he had to tell people that their companions were probably dead, and those moments were painful on both sides - but better than James had any right to hope for. While he was down there, he also visited the recovering knights. A lot of people had gotten hurt in the raid, even if no one from the Order had died. A lot of the people on the field had their own young authorities, and while it was really taxing to use them to enact change on the world, the quiet infomorphs were definitely responsible for making people just that little bit tougher and quicker. Harder to kill. Enough to make the difference. That, and the toughening potions, and the shield bracers, and the armor, and the camracondas, and a few random passive defenses, all combined to mean that while it was certainly a gauntlet for everyone, it wasn¡¯t lethal. Not that Deb was treating it that way. Everyone who had ended up shot, while the small caliber bullets hadn¡¯t been enough to permanently injure them, was still being treated like a baseline human. A human knight of the Order of Endless Rooms was, mostly, not going to have more than some light bleeding and a mild scar from being repeatedly shot in the stomach, but to hear Deb talk, they were all in critical condition and needed to be tied to the beds. So James talked to bruised and lightly bloodied humans, camracondas with torn cabling and more uncertain damage to their internal organs, and one particularly irate inhabitor who insisted that having his arm nearly amputated was a mild inconvenience at best. Morale was high, despite the number of people sent to get stitches. Everyone liked the way things had gone, and were excited to learn more about the chanters, or to get back out there and strike at Status Quo again. James wasn¡¯t sure they¡¯d be doing that, but he told the knights who asked that they¡¯d be on the list if it came up. Ethan specifically had given him an excited outburst, talking about heroism and valor and other stuff that James felt maybe should have been offset by the fact that the kid had a broken leg until the next Office run could copy more anti-broken-bone orbs. He also got to visit Banana while he was down there, which was a continual delight. Not for too long, since Amy, the Order¡¯s contracted veterinarian, was coming by to tutor her in bird biology. But he said hi to her and her stuffed shark, noting that her hospital room was starting to feel a little more like a personal home as the walls slowly covered with Banana¡¯s doodles of sharks and elephants, and the counters gained little touches like extra small stuffed animals, or a few hanging bathrobes for her to wear when she managed to get out of bed and wander the halls curiously. He¡¯d wanted to check in on Ishah, one of the first ratroaches that had come back with the Order after they made it a policy to strip every person they could out of the Akashic Sewer. He¡¯d gone through shaper substance treatment yesterday, and was sleeping it off, and James wanted to offer a congratulation even though he wasn¡¯t personally close to the dungeon creation. But one of the nurses told him that Ishah was sleeping, and he should probably check back later. Which was, really, fine with James; he was in no hurry, and now neither was their newest example of how a body could be remade to suit its wearer. Aside from spending chunks of the days downstairs, James also spent chunks of the days downstairs. The fact that the Lair was iceberg-esque in form, with far more building underground, made it less weird than it otherwise could have been, but he still liked to phrase it that way when he told Anesh what he¡¯d been doing so his boyfriend would give him a level and bemused look. He was one of the people who was looking over the Order¡¯s growing list of copied purple orbs. He knew that Karen was pretty strict about the distribution of their precious magical coffee grounds that ran the ritual, but they still put out about a hundred orbs a week to continually upgrade members of the Order. And in light of the most recent events, it seemed like a good time to make sure they were making the most of it. James didn¡¯t have any particular insights beyond the others, except for his own combat experience. But he was happy to add to the discussion, and also that the opportunity to catch up on any purples that had been discovered but he hadn¡¯t learned about. There weren¡¯t many; a lot of the purples the Order found were¡­ specific. Worryingly specific. Well, not worrying. Most dungeon magic didn¡¯t worry James anymore. But it wasn¡¯t exactly useful to have a shell upgrade that made you vomit five percent less, or let you type for an extra hundred words before your hands cramped. But it was still valuable to go over what they could improve that had wide use, and what should be going into the standard armory package. The most frustrating thing they collectively learned was that they actually had three different purple orbs that prevented broken bones. Or, conveniently, fixed them. As with all orbs from Officium Mundi, there were diminishing returns though. If you took the orb that prevented one break a month, and then took a copy of it, the second iteration would only stop .6 breaks, which was¡­ unclear at best. It went down further from there. But if you used a different orb, you could circumvent that problem. James had known they had an orb for one a month, and an orb for one a year, which stacked just fine. But they actually had two different purples that prevented one a month. They were identical in effect, but different iterations of the orb, so they needed to be copied separately. And they were not labeled correctly. Sorting that out had been a headache. The iLipedes with scanning apps didn¡¯t even help, because they showed identical results. James had eventually just excused himself from the room, leaving the others with distant looks in their eyes as he snuck away from what would probably be an eventual solution of resetting their stockpiles back to one orb each, labeling them A and B, and starting over. His next task did not help his headache. The Order had, after doing a thorough sweep for tracking devices, brough in all the stolen records from the Status Quo offices. And James, as someone who had an unnatural knowledge of cryptography, and a personal idea of the particular brand of awful this Status Quo could be, was on hand to help decipher some of it. A lot of it was accounting, or logistics. Payroll, expenses for food or hotels or ammunition. Some of it was vague or coded language about coercion or blackmail of various parties as Status Quo fought to keep ¡®order¡¯ across the world. A lot of the hard copy was semi-redacted, probably to confuse anyone trying to figure out how many agents exactly they had. But the digital records, once their sleeper agent infomorph traps were eliminated, yielded better numbers. And they were good, at least from the Order¡¯s point of view. As with half the other stuff he¡¯d said, the man James had spoken with on the phone had lied about the scope of their operation. Unless they were really concealing stuff, Status Quo had at most fifty people, and half of them weren¡¯t exactly combatants. Or at least, weren¡¯t enhanced. Which meant that they¡¯d lost a significant chunk of their ability to operate, as well as one of their main ways of empowering their agents. Their use of contractors and specialists made them flexible, and unaccountable, but that required resources that the Order was homing in on and planned to take away. On the less good side, they found reports of prisoner executions. The group churned through their captives at a disgusting rate, often only keeping people around until the dungeons they¡¯d been delving and all their contacts were confirmed eliminated. Then they were fed to the chanters, the bugs coerced into killing the defenseless prisoners so that when Status Quo in turn killed them, it would be worth more experience points or whatever bile inducing term they used. James found himself longing for the headache of having too many broken bone solutions, as he scrolled through and matched the names of liberated prisoners they had in their care to the locations of dead dungeons and the dates of upcoming ¡®processing¡¯. On a whim, and to escape the grim reality of the roster of the sacrificed, he cross referenced some of the documentation with the list of potential dungeon zones that Momo¡¯s AI child had been in the process of narrowing down when it had¡­ died? James didn¡¯t know the term. But he felt like the AI would have experienced some vindication to know that it was slowly narrowing the targeting circles on at least three correct guesses, even if those dungeons were gone now. When he could tolerate the basements and the dry lists of the dead no longer, James went to Townton, and helped out however was needed. Delivering green and blue orbs to bring nearby buildings back to life, helping to feed the chanter population, studying the creatures as they moved and kept a skittish distance from the Order, setting up shelters from the elements for them. All things that they had plenty of people to do, but that was no reason that James couldn¡¯t be one more set of hands pitching in. Especially since he was one of the best with his constant blue ability to manipulate asphalt, and he stretched it to the limit clearing streets and pulling spikes of the stuff out of the surrounding structures. What was odd about the period of time was that he was alone for a lot of it. There were plenty of other people he worked with, but he didn¡¯t see his partners much. Just small bits at night when they shared a bed, and also each other¡¯s minds; skulljack connections letting them know how they all felt about the chaotic events of the last few days, and also letting them share their love in a way that was no longer novel, but had become ever deeper the more they did it. But during his daily activities, James didn¡¯t find much time to talk to people as friends, just as fellow problem solvers. He did quickly find a time to get Zhu to try insulin, though, which did absolutely nothing for the Underburbs disease that presumably infected the navigator. Zhu had seemed¡­ resigned to it. And had gone back to his latest nap, which he was taking more and more of. He also got a chance to talk to Rufus. The strider had a new favorite tool; a custom little keyboard he was carrying around with him everywhere slung over his growing flank. His esoteric inability to use written language somehow not extending to the use of emojis, and one of the engineers had put together for him a way to communicate with the more verbal Order population. They talked about the Order¡¯s outline for their schooling program. Which was, all things considered, kind of mundane. Rufus had a budget request, confirmed by Texture-Of-Barkdust, so that they could get started hiring staff and going through ¡®adaptation¡¯, which was like training, but for explaining that magic was real and some ratroaches were closer to teenagers than others. The stapler also had a line on a nearby building that had used to be some kind of youth sports club until the pandemic had annihilated its finances and it turned into a hollow shell, just waiting to be filled with education. It took a little while to get some details down, because emoji weren¡¯t great for setting dates, but James tentatively agreed to do some interviews in between upcoming dungeon excursions. He looked forward to that; James was a big fan of inducting people into a weirder world. He just needed to make sure he was having an okay day when he did it; the last time he¡¯d tried, he¡¯d been kind of a dick to people who were probably legitimately confused, and he wanted to be better this time around. And the whole time James was doing all of this, there were constant small check-ins with the people who made up the Order of Endless Rooms. He said hi to Harvey and a dozen different members of the Response program, as well as met a couple more of their civilian oversight board. He talked to Bill about when he had an actual meeting with a power company scheduled. He checked up on the inhabitor population; the reclusive group of survivors of their species had been opening up more lately, but it was always good to make sure they had everything they needed. He had a quick meeting with Jeanne, her daughter Ava, and her semi-daughter Hidden, making sure the girls growing up together weren¡¯t encountering problems as the youngest human-infomorph pairing. He helped in the kitchens and with keeping the Order¡¯s disperate buildings cleaned, talking to the people who also often handled those tasks and looking for ways to improve or streamline things while he helped. He called JP or Nate every six minutes to harass them, just in case Status Quo showed any signs of moving against them. He took a lot of notes. And asked a lot of questions. James had been putting a lot of thought into what it meant to be a paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms. And while he knew with a certainty that his job was to be the person who faced danger and fought problems and protected people, he was starting to feel like what he really liked was the quiet parts, where he just talked to everyone, and tried to put together where their magic could do the most good. He did one other thing, too. It had become clear, from the latest Status Quo raid, that if James was going to be the frontline of the Order, he needed more of an advantage. Unlike their opponents, he wasn¡¯t even bulletproof. And being slightly better than a normal human in a few different ways wasn¡¯t enough to add up to making him a superhero. So he made a general request, and got approval from the majority of the Order, and started to plan out how to get better. _____ James hung up his phone and stared at the technological rectangle in his hand as he and Alanna walked through one of the Lair¡¯s many basement hallways. ¡°JP says to fuck off.¡± He said with a casual voice. ¡°Aw, tell him I said hi too.¡± Alanna replied instantly as she twisted the bracelet form of her authority around her wrist. She¡¯d been trying to think of a name for the semi-living infomorph for a couple days, and James had been utterly unhelpful. ¡°Does this mean that Status Quo is thoroughly routed?¡± ¡°No, it means I¡¯m supposed to stop harassing him.¡± James sighed as they took a corner and passed by a maintenance closet, the hallway narrowing to one of the smaller side paths that no one used that often. ¡°But also, yeah, from the actual intel that Ben and Planner are making available¡­ it looks like we got away clean on this one.¡± He didn¡¯t let himself feel relief. Not yet. But he was hopeful that this time there wouldn¡¯t be any kind of retaliation. Alanna nodded, breathing through her nose as she remembered the last Status Quo incident, and how she hadn¡¯t been too far from this spot in the Lair when she was ambushed and nearly beaten to death by a group of armed thugs. ¡°Cool.¡± She said out loud. ¡°So. Dungeon expedition is on then?¡± Alanna did what she did best, and bulldozed her emotional memories with all the subtlety of an actual piece of earthmoving equipment. Not that James didn¡¯t realize what she was doing, but he wasn¡¯t exactly sure how to help, except to offer his little bit of support. ¡°Yeah, dungeon things.¡± He said, leaning over as they walked to lightly bump against his girlfriend. ¡°We just need to put a team together, and then¡­ pick a target.¡± ¡°Well pick a target first, since I assume you don¡¯t want to bring the same twenty people on a roller coaster of delves and oh holy shit you do. That¡¯s what that face means. You absolutely do. You fucking idiot?¡± The last bit was said as close to lovingly as Alanna could make it. ¡°Hell no.¡± ¡°Honestly, it seems like a good idea.¡± James countered, explaining himself as they passed by one of the hallway intersections that radiated off of the hub of Research¡¯s domain. They had to wait for someone to wheel by a cart with some kind of heavy machinery on it, which James stared at as it passed, familiarity gnawing at the back of his mind. ¡°Anyway. I think that there¡¯s something to be said for the team building potential of that kind of gauntlet. But also we should take breaks? I¡¯m not saying we go on a solid two months of delve. I¡¯m saying we spend a week exploring the Stacks, then a week off, then a week climbing the¡­ Climb¡­ then a week off. You get it.¡± ¡°What if someone gets hurt?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Or just bows out?¡± ¡°Then we find someone else? I¡¯m not forming a cult or something! There¡¯s hundreds of people here, and it probably wouldn¡¯t be that hard to put up a flier on the local library bulletin board and get a few hits if we really need more bodies.¡± James shrugged, and then smiled to himself as the small motion failed to elicit the ache that the bruise on his shoulder had been giving him. It always felt nice to heal. ¡°Anyway. The only real restriction is no camracondas for Officium Mundi, and probably no ratroaches for the Akashic Sewer. So there won¡¯t be too much shuffling around required.¡± Alanna drummed her fingers against the green band on her wrist and hummed as they walked. ¡°Camracondas could come to the Office, we just need to get them the earrings, right?¡± ¡°The¡­ oh, the Old Squo ones?¡± James asked, and got a flat stare back that was Alanna¡¯s way of telling him they needed better names for things. ¡°Right. Sure. Cause they have the power to¡­ I don¡¯t even remember. I know they do invisibility, what else do they do? Something about deflecting notice?¡± He snapped his fingers, cutting off Alanna as she opened her mouth. ¡°No, I remember, sorry. Or I remember that they let the camracondas go back into the Office and not get snagged by it. But there¡¯s the problem of time on those, so no.¡± ¡°Right, right. Charges, cooldowns, and duration. I know math.¡± Alanna snorted. ¡°I live with Anesh, I can¡¯t not know math.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t sell yourself short. I live with Anesh too and I don¡¯t know anything about math!¡± Alanna swatted at his arm. ¡°You fucking liar, I¡¯ve seen your character sheet.¡± James laughed as they passed by a lost looking ratroach. He and Alanna stopped briefly to help the scared new person get back on track, before they moved on. ¡°You know,¡± Alanna said softly, ¡°I can feel my authority sort of soaking in every time I do that?¡± ¡°Do what? Give directions?¡± ¡°Help people.¡± She said. ¡°Maybe take charge of helping people, no clue how specific it is. You should get an authority.¡± The directive came out of nowhere for James, and before he¡¯d really thought about it, he was opening his mouth to start to say no. Pushing back on what he saw as power he didn¡¯t need, or on change in general. But he paused before he spoke. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He said instead, sticking his hands behind his head and looking up at the concrete ceiling and the overhead lights. ¡°If I do, it should be after we nail down what a paladin does. And I¡¯m not sure how it¡¯d interact with Zhu, either.¡± ¡°Honestly? I don¡¯t think it would.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°From everyone I¡¯ve talked to, and this lil guy, it feels like they¡¯re¡­ sorta quiet? They¡¯re not even really people, exactly. More like the infomorph version of dogs.¡± ¡°Our dog is in college.¡± James stopped. ¡°I should stop calling Auberdeen our dog. She¡¯s in college.¡± ¡°Fair. But you know what I mean.¡± Alanna smirked at him. ¡°Sometimes I get feelings from it. Like, I know what would make it stronger, and what would make it stronger is tied to my ¡®job¡¯, but my job is helping people and running a Response team, so it all sort of loops around? Do what I was doing anyway, and it reinforces and feeds the authority. Virtuous cycle. We talked about this a million years ago. Anyway, get one. It takes up less headspace than Planner does, and I know you¡¯ve got Planner in there.¡± She poked at his forehead, eliciting a weaving dodge from her boyfriend. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡± James said, and when Alanna stopped walking, folded her arms, and glowered at him, he held up his hands in protest. ¡°I¡¯ll actually think about it! I promise! I just¡­ I wanna actually make sure it¡¯ll be okay for Zhu, you know? I¡¯m cured of my dungeon bullshit disease, but he¡¯s not, and I don¡¯t even know how to start on that. I don¡¯t want to do anything that might hurt him until I know he¡¯s actually going to be okay.¡± Alanna let her arms drop, shaking her head. ¡°That¡¯s really cute. Alright, I¡¯ll bug you about it later when your ghost bird boyfriend is safe.¡± ¡°He is at most half of one of those nouns.¡± ¡°How can someone be half of your boyfriend?¡± James smirked as they kept walking toward the upcoming hallway intersection. ¡°I dunno, ask me and Anesh from three years ago.¡± He waited for Alanna to finish her laugh, a smile tugging at his own lips, and then asked something more important. ¡°So, do you want to come on my dungeon expedition?¡± She stared at him. ¡°Obviously, you dumbass.¡± ¡°Okay, just wanted to check.¡± He pulled his phone out and slowed down in walking as he started a document and put her name at the top. ¡°That¡¯s one down. Now to fill the roster out. I¡¯m gonna actually try to not put all our knights in a dungeon at the same time, that seems stupid. Also I really do want to go for a pretty diverse group, so that we can build more ties across the Order. Hm¡­ maybe¡­¡± He trailed off as Momo came running around the corner, holding one arm out in front of her, her other hand clamped around her wrist. ¡°Shit, shit, shit, shit!¡± She was chanting as she jogged past, blood dripping down her limb. ¡°Hey guys! Sorry! No time!¡± Momo called out as she swerved between James and Alanna and kept running, skidding on socked feet as she took a corner too fast and slammed into the concrete basement wall. James and Alanna stared after her, both of them slowly trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. ¡°Uh¡­ is that¡­ bad?¡± James asked eventually. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ probably.¡± Alanna sighed. ¡°Do you mind if I go handle that? I¡¯ll talk to you later.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, sure. You won¡¯t be late for your thing?¡± ¡°What thing?¡± ¡°The¡­¡± James looked back in the direction they were walking and talking. ¡°The thing you¡¯re going to?¡± Alanna stared at him with a dawning realization. ¡°Buddy, I¡¯ve been following you.¡± The two of them met each other''s eyes, and then in unspoken unison, took deep breaths and sighed at the same time. Then they burst out laughing. ¡°I won¡¯t tell anyone if you don¡¯t!¡± James said as Alanna took off after Momo. She just waved back, and he smiled and shook his head as he went off to find one of their janitor stations so he could deal with all the blood Momo just ruined the basement hallway with. _____ While he was down in the basement, James checked in on a strange little garden. The repurposed closet - which he just now realized should have overlapped a bathroom spatially - was a vibrant as ever. Rufus and a few of his trusted companions maintaining small growths of various different dungeon plants, a miniature greenhouse of Office or Climb flora, mixed with a half dozen weirder things sticking out of magic succulent pots. Rufus was still upstairs somewhere, probably taking over part of James¡¯ office. But his most common helper was here. ¡°Hey Fredrick.¡± James greeted the stuff animal, instantly uncertain which of the three names Sarah had given to him was appropriate. He might also have a proper title, James couldn¡¯t remember, but he felt compelled to add ¡®esquire¡¯ to the end of the name for some reason. Fredrick Umbra Armillary was about two feet tall, with a raccoons snout that blended seamlessly into moist salamander skin in a mix of pale blue and black. Webbing between his claws and a cunning and intelligence behind his glimmering eyes. He was also part spider, and had been getting more comfortable at keeping the six extra legs out in the open without worrying about bothering anyone. Personally, James had no issue with spiders when they were larger than some dogs. The problem with spiders normally was they were too small for him to see what they were doing. This little guy was too busy being cute for James to worry about that. Though he did find it uncomfortable that Clutter Ascent, the dungeon that made the stuff animals in the first place, had stopped making new ones with spider blended in. All this concerned thought went unnoticed by Fredrick Umbra Armillary, who perked up as James knocked and opened the door. ¡°Ssssnacks!¡± He demanded pointedly. And then, a short beat later, added a ¡°Pleassse?¡± James checked his pockets and came up with one option. ¡°I¡¯ve got an Office candy¡­ uh¡­ Large Number? Do you like milk chocolate?¡± The stuff animal shrugged and darted forward to grab the snack out of James¡¯ hands. ¡°Thank thank.¡± He chittered happily. ¡°Want a plantssss?¡± ¡°Honestly? Kinda.¡± James looked around the little room with open admiration. The vines on the back wall that were growing small pods of fluorescent liquid were especially colorful and enticing. He really, really wanted to eat one, even though he knew it was actually ink of some kind. ¡°What¡¯re you guys growing down here these days? Anything new?¡± Excitedly clapping his little paws, Fredrick scrambled up over a bench, deftly maneuvering between a set of pots filled with shredded paper and past a longer grow bed with what looked like a perfectly normal tomato vine in it. He grabbed something off a rack, and brought it back over to James, revealing a tiny struggling cactus looking thing. ¡°Watchhhh.¡± He dipped a claw down and broke off the tip of the plant, pulling it away with a blue goo connecting it in a stretchy line, until eventually the whole thing came away with a slight mess. Fredrick spun the extra goo onto his paw, and popped the whole limb into his wide mouth while he handed James the other part. Shrugging, and assuming it wasn¡¯t poison, James squeezed the small stub of cactus until a line of blue goop oozed out, and then licked it. It tasted¡­ quite bad. ¡°Eugh.¡± He gulped, holding it away from his face. ¡°That tastes like diluted deodorant.¡± Then he paused, and blinked slowly while staring at the far wall. ¡°Wait, this tastes like exercise potion.¡± ¡°Yesss!¡± Fredrick exclaimed. ¡°Very bad, bad bad flavor.¡± ¡°I¡¯m missing something.¡± James admitted. The stuff animal nodded, and turned the little cactus around to show James the pot it was planted in. It was pretty tiny, and looked like a small gift shop curio that had probably been given to Rufus¡¯s little garden as a gift in the near past. And then, abruptly, James realized why that mattered. ¡°This isn¡¯t one of the pots that grows anything as a succulent.¡± He said slowly, and the stuff animal nodded vigorously back at him. ¡°You¡¯re growing an exercise potion aloe, without the magic.¡± Fredrick nodded faster, enough that James was worried the little guy was gonna dry out his salamander skin with the breeze he was generating. ¡°This is¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°No magic!¡± Fredrick announced, still just as excited. ¡°No pooooooshun. Jussst the tasssste.¡± ¡°Okay but like why.¡± James asked instantly. He got no real reply, except the stuff animal pushing himself up on his extra legs to grab the bit of plant matter out of James¡¯ fingers and pop it in his own mouth. ¡°You cannot possibly enjoy that.¡± He said, and got a quizzical look in reply. ¡°Alright. Well, that¡¯s¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say to this. Moving on! We¡¯re going on a long dungeon delve of a few places, do you want to go on one with us? It¡¯ll be a bunch of people, but if you¡¯re feeling cooped up here or something, you can-¡° Fredrick Umbra Armilary hissed at him, and shooed James out of the greenhouse. James was laughing by the time the door shut behind him; that sounded like a no, but that was okay. It seemed like the little guy was having fun with what he had going on here. _____ Someone from Recovery had given him the phone number a while back, and he¡¯d lost it. He¡¯d lost it twice, actually, since Cathy hadn¡¯t caught on that he meant that he threw it away. Anesh and Alanna gave him the number the third time, his girlfriend handing him the folded note card with a hard stare. ¡°If you lose this one, I¡¯m getting Rufus to help me staple the next one to your forehead.¡± She¡¯d said while Anesh looked like he wasn¡¯t sure he should dive into this conversation or not. ¡°Is Rufus into that?¡± James asked with a smirk. But Alanna hadn¡¯t relented, so he¡¯d taken the number. And then, later, when no one was around and he felt a sudden impulse to do so, he¡¯d dialed it. Someone answered after three rings. Just a simple ¡°Hello?¡± His sister¡¯s voice was the same as he remembered; high pitched and with just a hint of casual arrogance. For a tiny second, James considered a million things to say. Hell, part of him considered asking if she wanted to come into a dungeon next week. But then he remembered ever lived experience that he had of his sister, and shook his head with a smile. ¡°Sorry. Wrong number.¡± James said. ¡°Have a good one.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ you too?¡± Kayle said, confused, but not irate or anything. James hung up and pocketed his phone. Then he nodded to himself and got back to what he was working on, feeling like he¡¯d lost a weight he hadn¡¯t noticed adding to the pile. _____ ¡°So.¡± James was sitting in the dining room of the Order, wondering at what point they¡¯d added an extra five tables and a row of private booths, and where the space had come from. Across from him sat two people who clearly didn¡¯t like each other, but had decided to present him with a unified front. ¡°How¡¯s life been?¡± ¡°Filled with inane questioning.¡± Nile snapped. The old Alchemist wasn¡¯t exactly happy with his transformation from obscenely wealthy murderer to being in the Order¡¯s custody. Which, as far as James was concerned, was one of the most minor problems possible on his plate. Red - or Amelia, depending on how she was feeling that day - gave him a better answer. Though he wasn¡¯t sure if it was only out of spite for Nile. ¡°My own work has been advancing by leaps and bounds.¡± The woman said. She wasn¡¯t old, by any stretch, but her greying hair pulled back in a stern looking bun made her seem like she¡¯d be perfect as a harsh 1950¡¯s librarian. ¡°Access to more of the Sap has allowed for more experimentation, and more opportunities to catalog what parts of the ingredients make the potions function. My focus with Davis and his subordinates has recently been on efficiency; making the methods we use for producing staples more robust, so that more resources can be spent on novel ideas.¡± ¡°He didn¡¯t mean that, you bloody damned teacher¡¯s pet.¡± Nile muttered as he held his cup up to his mouth. Despite being older than Amelia, the man sure did come across like someone who really was trapped in a high school world. James sighed, and rubbed at one of his eyes. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s relevant. Though Amelia, we should talk about your work obsession. But no, I meant how your accommodations are.¡± ¡°Petty and insufficient.¡± Nile answered, predictably. ¡°Oh. Adequate.¡± Red said, as if the question hadn¡¯t occurred to her before. Flipping one his sheets of notes over, James clicked a mechanical pencil. ¡°Great! That means we can improve them! What would you like?¡± They stared at him with different levels and styles of disbelief. ¡°For your¡­ for your lives? Like, what would make it better? Guys, you gotta work with me here, I¡¯ve never been rich before. What do wealthy people actually like? Bigger living spaces, or better food, or what?¡± ¡°Hundred year old scotch.¡± Nile said in a tone that was still way too demanding for James to not snipe back at him. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Doesn¡¯t fifty year old scotch start at something like a million dollars a bottle?¡± James asked, unsure if he knew that because of magic or just some half forgotten podcast. ¡°I mean, I assumed you had taken Davis up on the offer to try making some kind of liquor that was either magical, or made with magic.¡± Nile just tried to glower at him, the older man seeming to want to intimidate James into feeling bad about this meeting. ¡°Right, you didn¡¯t. Cool. Amelia?¡± The woman looked up like she¡¯d been actually thinking about it. ¡°The apartments are smaller than I¡¯m used to, but the workspaces are what need the most work. Your ¡®basements¡¯ are being used as full laboratory facilities, and there¡¯s no clear floor plan. In fact, the floor plan changes every other week, which is not helpful.¡± ¡°I¡­ have noticed that. That¡¯s something I agree with. But also not a personal comfort thing, even though I¡¯ll talk to Reed about it later. You¡¯re just fine with how your daily life goes?¡± She paused, then flicked her eyes sideways at Nile. James could almost see the thought process at play; the man hadn¡¯t complained, so if she complained, she¡¯d seem weaker by comparison. So James abandoned subtly. ¡°As a reminder, we value emotional openness as a sign of confidence.¡± He said casually. ¡°The baths.¡± Amelia said suddenly. ¡°Oh. You don¡¯t like them? I mean, we do have private bathrooms in the apartments, but if you need the water pressure changed or something¡­¡± ¡°No.¡± She cut him off. ¡°They¡¯re too popular. It used to be convenient. Now there¡¯s usually a wait for a pool. And the improvements didn¡¯t help.¡± She folded her arms and looked away. ¡°It was a pleasant amenity, and it¡¯s been¡­ hm¡­ devalued.¡± ¡°Huh. Okay.¡± James nodded. ¡°I get that. I¡¯ll talk to Bill later and add another thing to his plate. Might be a while, but thanks for letting me know.¡± He sighed. ¡°So, is there anything the two of you would like to bring up, before we end this check in?¡± Nile flicked a fingernail against the rim of his cup, leaning back in the padded booth. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you have no plans for how to dispose of Tigris?¡± He asked. ¡°I hear he¡¯s dying.¡± James¡¯ expression hardened rapidly, but Red beat him to the punch. ¡°You bastard.¡± The woman ground out the word, looking like she was considering leaving polite society behind and just raining punches down on Nile¡¯s smug face. ¡°The man deserves more respect than you, and you can¡¯t even get through one lunch without gloating?¡± She whipped back to face James. ¡°This is what you¡¯re getting, keeping him around, you know. Nothing but empty angry words.¡± ¡°Excuse me, just because I don¡¯t brag ceaselessly about my ¡®accomplishments¡¯ doesn¡¯t mean that I am not doing more than you to produce something of value!¡± Nile snapped back. James set his pencil down, placed his hands on the table, closed his eyes, and took a steadying breath through his nose. And both of them shut up, abruptly, which made him a little worried. He wasn¡¯t trying to be scary or anything. ¡°I do not care about your accomplishments.¡± James said softly. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your value. You are here to recover, and to learn, and to grow beyond the limited worldview you had when you arrived. And, if it makes you feel better to think of it this way, to atone for your numerous crimes.¡± He opened his eyes and looked at them. ¡°Yes. Tigris is not¡­ doing well. I¡¯m sure you know him better than I do, but he¡¯s refused some of our help.¡± ¡°The bastard is a lot of things, and prideful is certainly one of them.¡± Nile sounded almost grudgingly respectful. ¡°Though¡­¡± He caught Amelia scowling. ¡°Much as I dislike him, he has been a mentor. He¡¯s alive?¡± ¡°Of course he¡¯s alive you vile man.¡± Red snipped. ¡°You could have visited him at any time!¡± ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s still alive. Not really sure what we can do for him.¡± James said. ¡°Uh¡­ he claimed he was a hundred and six? I honestly have no idea if he was fucking with me or not, and if not, I¡¯d love to know how.¡± Red nodded. ¡°He¡¯s been a Guild Alchemist since he was thirty years old. A lifetime of the restorative elixirs, as well as I¡¯m sure at least one secret of his own concoction, can keep someone in excellent health. Age, as I¡¯m sure you know, is simply a breakdown of bodily systems. Maintain the systems, maintain the body, and age doesn¡¯t bite quite so hard.¡± ¡°He really is that old, if not older.¡± Nile nodded. ¡°Bastard promised me the secret to it and then told me it was eating a lemon a day. I almost believe him. He refused you?¡± James nodded. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m sure you know we¡¯ve got a few magics that could maybe help. A couple purple orbs, maybe. But he said no.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Nile nodded. ¡°Of course.¡± Amelia agreed, which was instantly suspicious to James. He looked at them until she sighed stiffly and explained. ¡°Your Order has a consent form for what is done with the magic left behind after a death, yes?¡± He nodded. ¡°Well. Nothing made from the Sap does any such thing. So, if you were concerned, as some old men are, for the state of their immortal soul¡­¡± ¡°Ah.¡± James sighed. ¡°Well. That¡¯s probably stupid, but I can¡¯t stop him from following his beliefs.¡± ¡°You should. His beliefs are childish and naive in the face of immortality.¡± Nile quipped lightly. ¡°¡­anyway. Anything else?¡± James asked. Amelia spoke rapidly. ¡°Well. Now that Nile has thoroughly embarrassed the both of us, and ruined the chance of an easy answer to the request? We have heard that you are assembling a large group for a prolonged expedition, and wish to be part of it.¡± ¡°What, together?¡± James asked, incredulous that the two Alchemists would ever want to be confined to the same camp for more than five minutes at a time. ¡°Seriously?¡± Nile nodded once, as stiff as Amelia was looking. ¡°If that is what it takes to make you take us seriously, then yes. There is something odd about the way delvers, as you seem to romanticize them, approach the process of true alchemy. And both of us will accept any advantage we can take. I have no regard for my soul, immortal or otherwise.¡± He said with a haughty sniff. James glanced back at Amelia, but she simply gave him a steady and waiting look. He hummed to fill time as he checked the notes that Davis and Cathy had left for him about the two and their progress. Records of small incidents and how they were handled, any comments from their therapists, the way they seemed to be living. It was hard to say that they were better people since coming to the Order, but, James couldn¡¯t deny, they sure hadn¡¯t fucking killed anyone since getting here. And that was counting the test potion that blew up glass. So he looked back up at them, and undercut whatever arguments they were about to make. ¡°Sure.¡± He said. ¡°But! We¡¯re planning for multiple long runs over the course of a month. You two are doing better, whether you¡¯ll admit it or not, but I don¡¯t wanna put up with both of you at once. So decide between yourselves which of you is going to which dungeon, and let me know. And if you can do that peacefully, I¡¯ll gladly have you on the teams.¡± He left them sitting next to each other in the booth, looking like they were both preparing for a brawl of an argument as soon as James left the room. It might not be the best solution, but they were adults, and not literal children, and his King Solomon impression would at least save him a headache. _____ ¡°Hey Dave!¡± ¡°Huh? Oh. Hi. Are you alright?¡± Dave asked like he was operating on a script. James paused in the Lair¡¯s lobby, tilting his head to look down at himself, just in case. ¡°Yes? Why?¡± ¡°I thought you got shot.¡± ¡°Literally everyone that wasn¡¯t me got shot. Though it does say something that we haven¡¯t talked in days and I didn¡¯t even notice. We should get a D&D game started up again.¡± James thought about all the free time he didn¡¯t have to do that in. ¡°Anyway. Speaking of hanging out, do you and Pendragon wanna go on a week long delve as part of a big group? She might not get to fly a lot.¡± ¡°Sure, sounds fun.¡± Dave nodded. ¡°Maybe I can get some yellows to make Pen some sisters.¡± ¡°...Sure. Okay. I¡¯ll add you to the channel on our server.¡± It was the easiest one of these James had done so far. _____ It wasn¡¯t that James had an actual ranking of awkward situations filed away in his brain to compare any given moment to. But if you asked him to fake it, he¡¯d probably put ¡®standing in a hallway after knocking on an apartment door but before anyone answered¡¯ fairly high on the list. The Lair had more apartments in it than it used to. Technically, it was an addition to the previous totem, adding another three ¡®floors¡¯, almost doubling their capacity. They were starting to run into logistical problems; specifically in terms of throughput. The hallways hadn¡¯t been shifted with James¡¯ newly drafted plans; apparently editing an orange totem in use was something Research was ¡®working on¡¯, which James suspected meant ¡®causing property damage with somewhere¡¯. And there just weren¡¯t enough elevators or stairs for the actual volume of people who lived here to get around. Even though a lot of those people weren¡¯t human and didn¡¯t like leaving the Lair, they still wanted to get upstairs for dinner, or to get their mail. James had been kinda surprised when he¡¯d gone over the resident listings and seen a lot of mixed species roommates. Human-camraconda was the most common one, for obvious reasons. There were also more ratroaches here than ever - almost fifty of them now - and many of them lived with someone who was¡­ James figured it was rude to think ¡®stable¡¯ was the adjective he wanted. But it was pretty accurate. A human or camraconda who was more emotionally mature, who could help two or three new ratroaches adapt to a life that¡­ that¡­ Didn¡¯t hurt as much. He broke off the thought as the door he was standing in front of cracked open. Keeka¡¯s chitin-banded snout poked out as he looked at James. ¡°Hello!¡± The ratroach cheerily squeaked at him. ¡°Hey Keeks.¡± James said, and then instantly shook his head as he heard himself. ¡°Mmh, no, maybe not that nickname.¡± Keeka gave a chiming laugh, a light green flush taking up around his eyes as he opened the door to let James in. ¡°This is funny, but I will not tell you why!¡± He said. ¡°Ominous!¡± James grinned as he stepped into his friends¡¯ apartment. Keeka just kept giggling as he shut the door and spun around James, skirt swishing around his streamlined legs. He really did look like himself, like this. Changed, yes. But not into something different. He was still a ratroach; a lot of people would probably find him creepy or gross. Dark brown chitin with an opalescent sheen and growing black fur covering his body, too many arms that weren¡¯t quite set at places that looked normal, long antenna on his head over too many multifaceted eyes. He looked inhuman, and that would probably scare some people. But he had remade his body to his specifications, not some cruel dungeon¡¯s. His arms and eyes had a symmetry to them, his antenna weren¡¯t barbed, he could speak through his realigned muzzle without running out of breath or rasping or dripping corrosive drool on the carpet. And James wasn¡¯t most people anyway. So he just looked like Keeka was supposed to. ¡°Is Arrush around?¡± James asked as he followed Keeka deeper into the apartment. Their patio blinds were open, transplanted sunlight streaming through the windows at a high angle and giving a light warmth to the messy living room. ¡°I had a question for him.¡± The laughter trailed off as Keeka stopped at the arm of the long and scarred couch they had here. Halfway through trying to pick something up off the floor, he opened one of his claws and set a pair of heavy headphones back on the sofa. ¡°He¡¯s out.¡± Keeka said. ¡°Practicing something. Maybe hiding from his squire. Though he¡¯s not good at hiding, I think he might not be trying hard.¡± James chuckled. One of the teenagers, a kid named Brian who was officially not a high school student anymore, had decided that he wanted to be a delver. James couldn¡¯t even blame him; it was a cool job to have. But he still felt weird having a kid going into dungeons, so he¡¯d told Brian that if he could get someone to agree to it, James would consider letting him go on an escorted very shallow delve into a safe dungeon. He¡¯d chosen to interpret this as being a squire, and for what James felt were weird reasons, had sort of zeroed in on Arrush for the role. ¡°You know, it¡¯s almost funny? Actually, no, hang on, it is funny. But if it gets to be too much, tell Arrush to talk to me, okay?¡± ¡°He is having fun.¡± Keeka sighed. Even the simple motion of sighing seemed to be something he relished, though. A whole breath, his to use as he wanted. That was still novel! ¡°He will be back later, for you to ask him.¡± ¡°Okay, now, hang on. You don¡¯t know I have a question for him.¡± James folded his arms as he balanced on one foot, braced against the kitchen counter. Keeka dropped back onto the couch, hands balled up in his lap, his triangular head looking sheepishly at the ground. ¡°Rumors and things.¡± He said. ¡°And I¡¯m not stupid. You want to go far into¡­ into a dungeon. Maybe more.¡± Keeka twitched his head sideways, looking out the back window at the growing garden in the courtyard below. ¡°He¡¯s going to say yes.¡± ¡°Hey¡­¡± James wasn¡¯t stupid either. He could see Keeka being upset about it. ¡°If it¡¯s bothering you¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what is bothering me.¡± Keeka admitted bluntly. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the danger?¡± James shrugged weakly. ¡°I mean, there will be some of that.¡± He admitted. ¡°I still¡­ we changed here, don¡¯t you know?¡± Keeka asked, faltering on the words. James nodded at him, still understanding anyway despite the weird phrasing. ¡°You changed us. So much. But you can¡¯t change the nightmare. It doesn¡¯t matter if there¡¯s real danger. I will still be scared to lose him.¡± Letting out a long breath, James pushed off the counter, and slowly crossed the living room to settle onto the couch next to Keeka. He leaned back a lot farther than the ratroach, and reached out to settle a comforting hand on Keeka¡¯s back. Almost instantly, Keeka flopped backward onto James, half leaning on him, half curling up. ¡°I get it.¡± James said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to help, but I get it. Hell, did you know Anesh has died twice?¡± He asked suddenly. ¡°Both times when I wasn¡¯t there. When I¡­¡± he took a deep breath, trying to keep his fingers from twitching. ¡°I get it.¡± He repeated. ¡°How do you deal with it?¡± Keeka asked quietly as he burrowed into the crook of James¡¯ arm. ¡°I mean, in this case? I¡¯m bringing Anesh along so he can¡¯t die without me around.¡± James had said it partly as a joke, but Keeka perked up slightly. ¡°Anesh will be there?¡± ¡°Well, one of him, yeah.¡± James nodded, idly running his fingers across a seam between Keeka¡¯s fur and chitin. ¡°Oh, right, I forgot about how you two¡­¡± ¡°Can I come?¡± The words caught James off guard. ¡°Buh?¡± Keeka pulled away, and looked down at James as he knelt on the edge of his couch. ¡°I¡¯m not a delver. I know. But I can fight. I won¡¯t die. Can I come? Because then, I will be there, if Arrush needs me.¡± James thought about it. Really actually thought about it, long enough that Keeka started to look embarrassed or ashamed for having asked. When he started to think James was just trying to find a reason to tell him no, he pulled back further. ¡°I should-¡° ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± James said, pulling out his phone and adding Keeka¡¯s name to his list. ¡°You honestly probably could get away with not fighting. I know you were¡­ well, made to fight, in multiple ways, but we need support for this too. Searching, puzzles, identifying magic we find, hell even just making camp and helping with food and stuff is valuable. There¡¯ll be plenty for all of us to do that isn¡¯t combat. And I¡¯m sure Arrush and Anesh will love to have you along.¡± Jolting upright, Keeka¡¯s multiple sets of eyes glittered at James as he looked down at his friend. ¡°You¡¯re saying it that way on purpose.¡± He accused. ¡°I absolutely am.¡± James nodded happily as he rolled sideways to dodge a tackle and hopped off the couch with a graceful ease that he couldn¡¯t actually remember acquiring at any specific point, but that had saved his life at least once. ¡°Anyway! Tell Arrush to check his messages! I need a real answer from him before we finalize the first roster!¡± James said. ¡°Waaaaait!¡± Keeka tumbled off the end of the couch, bolting after James as he headed for the apartment¡¯s door. He would have liked to just hang out, but he knew James had things to do. The paladin always had things to do. So instead, he just threw himself into a hug that enveloped half of James and got a grunt from him at the impact. ¡°Thank you.¡± Keeka muttered into James¡¯ shirt. ¡°For everything.¡± ¡°Hey, I said it last time, I¡¯m sure, but you don¡¯t need to thank me. You two deserve everything I can offer and more. Hell, everyone in your species does. Life isn¡¯t supposed to suck that bad.¡± James declared. ¡°Anyway. I do need to¡­¡± he patted Keeka on the back, looking down at where the ratroach had interlaced his claws to prevent James from escaping. ¡°Oh.¡± Keeka flushed neon green as he let go and straightened up. ¡°Yes! G-good luck!¡± James grinned back as he stepped out into the hallway. ______ Frequency-Of-Sunlight accosted James trying to get through the Lair¡¯s lobby and communal area. She had to flicker her gaze at him for a millisecond to get him to let her catch up, too. Not that she couldn¡¯t move fast when she wanted; camracondas had a ¡®sprint¡¯ speed of close to a human, even if they couldn¡¯t sustain it for nearly as long without a preemptive exercise potion. But Sunny had been ordered to stop exerting herself after she¡¯d come back from the Status Quo raid with abrasions on her belly cabling and a tiny, insignificant little sliver of shrapnel stuck in her back. It was so small she hadn¡¯t even noticed, which meant it wasn¡¯t a big deal, no matter what Deb had said. Buuuuut, it did sort of ache when she slithered too fast. And she hadn¡¯t healed yet, and it was getting annoying. So she got James¡¯ attention another way. James sketched out a small bow to her as she approached. ¡°Hey Frequency.¡± He said. ¡°What¡¯cha need?¡± ¡°I am coming with you.¡± She announced. ¡°Sure.¡± James said. ¡°I mean, yeah, that makes sense. You¡¯re, like, the fifth camraconda to just declare their interest. I was gonna ask, but I guess I don¡¯t need to. What dungeons do you want in on?¡± ¡°All of them.¡± She said, flicking her papery tongue out briefly, unable to hide the nervous tic as she spoke with her digital voice. James paused. ¡°Okay, well, one of them is Officium Mundi, and¡­¡± ¡°I have forced your lover to help me do math!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight announced, maybe a little too loudly for the populated lobby judging by the slight blush James gave. ¡°For a one week trip, operating full time in the Office, I need one hundred and twenty six charges of the secrecy earring at their highest level available. We have six of them, which totals one twenty, and if I cycle which one I use, they will all regenerate the extra six charges with extras to spare before we leave. This leaves room for overlapping the effects for safety¡± ¡°¡­we only have six of the high level earrings?¡± James focused on the wrong part of her math. ¡°The copies don¡¯t shield enough. Look, I did math, be impressed with me!¡± Sunny demanded. Then she straightened up, and switched abruptly back to what she thought was a more professional tone. ¡°I mean¡­ I would like recognition for my¡­¡± ¡°You just told me you got Anesh to do this.¡± James said, rubbing his forehead. ¡°Also please stop trying to impress me, I¡¯m not a professional, you can just talk to me like a normal person. Or¡­ whatever a normal person around here is.¡± The camraconda looped her head around in an exasperated gesture at him. ¡°Alright, fine! I¡¯ve got permission to use a bunch of earrings and I want to see my home again and maybe bite it or something! Stop being an obstructionist human and let me come on your stupid adventure!¡± ¡°See, that¡¯s much more convincing.¡± James nodded, pulling out his phone. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re on the list. But if you want to get in on the Climb, you¡¯ll need to check in with Spire-Cast-Behind for a camraconda slot.¡± ¡°¡­why is there a specific camraconda quota?¡± Sunny asked with open suspicion, her lens narrowing to a point as she focused on James¡¯ face. He shrugged. ¡°Because on the Climb, you guys need drakes to carry you. I¡¯d say we just get snowmobiles or something, but they¡¯re way too inflexible. So there¡¯s a logistical camraconda cap.¡± ¡°Oh. It¡¯s not something weird?¡± She relaxed. James made that motion that humans made when they realized that the context of their lives was spiraling out of their control. ¡°No, Sunny.¡± He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not something weird. It¡¯s just the number of paper dragons we have available for the magical semi-urbanized infinite mountain.¡± ¡°Okay. Good! I¡¯ll settle for the Office then! Thank youuuuuu!¡± The camraconda offered the tip of her tail to high-five before she slithered away, overjoyed that her research had gotten her exactly what she wanted. Now, there was just one more obstacle. Telling her girlfriend. _____ There were too many reasons to visit the Order¡¯s hospital these days. Most of them were relatively minor, or works in progress that would slowly be managed. Injured knights who would be back on their feet or tails soon enough, mostly. Or long term cases like Banana, where what was needed was near constant medical observation, but for a case that probably wouldn¡¯t turn critical before she was ready to remake herself, or some other answer presented itself. Some of them were worse. ¡°I hear you¡¯re leaving for good.¡± James had knocked on the opaque glass door and gotten a shaky admittance before sliding it open and stopping in the threshold to the hospital room. The girl inside was standing stiffly next to her bed, leaning over it with one hand braced as she tugged on a shoe. Overall, she was looking a lot better than the last unfortunate time James saw her personally; missing a lot of the scrapes, cuts, and dirt that had covered her, and while she might have a limp for a while, she was walking and not in devastating pain. The Order¡¯s health care package relied a lot on magic, and wasn¡¯t always great for a lot of stuff, but it was free if you were on the list of people who they felt an obligation to. She froze for a second when James came in; not just like she¡¯d been expecting someone else, but like she wasn¡¯t exactly happy to see him. ¡°Leave me alone.¡± Sienna said with harsh acidity. The other survivors of the Underburbs incident had left already. Recovered, and then walked out. James was pretty sure that Aurelio was one of those people who couldn¡¯t properly mentally engage with magic, and the other guy had just wanted to be silently gone. James had suspected he was a hitman or something, but JP said he was just a private paranoid jerk. Sienna, though, had kept coming back. Mostly just for medical help, checkups and three purple orbs for her leg, therapy for everything else. Checks for other Underburbs diseases, too. But she hadn¡¯t wanted to see James, and she¡¯d been getting angrier the whole time. Or, not angrier, no. Something more bitter, and without a real outlet. Angry at the world, maybe. Either way, he wasn¡¯t here to try to convince her that they should be friends. ¡°Okay.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the pain out of his own voice. ¡°I just wanted to say good luck. Deb will have a key to a locker for you that has some money and¡­ some other stuff you might want¡­ in it, though I know it doesn¡¯t make up for shit. And I wanted to tell you, personally, that if you ever need anything, the Order is here. You have my number.¡± He turned to leave, and didn¡¯t hesitate to start pulling the door shut again, though it felt heavier this time. ¡°It should have been me.¡± Sienna¡¯s voice was a strained whine, just before the door shut all the way. James considered just pretending he hadn¡¯t heard, shutting the door, and leaving her like she¡¯d asked. But really, that wasn¡¯t something he ever wanted to do. So he took a deep breath, failed to push away how awkward he felt, and slid the door open slightly. ¡°No.¡± He told her flatly. She snapped up like she hadn¡¯t even considered that he would hear her, much less turn around. ¡°What?¡± Siennas voice was an angry bark. ¡°Go away!¡± ¡°I will. But you¡¯re wrong.¡± James said softly, oddly aware that he was using the same tone he¡¯d use on an injured and panicking animal. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have been you. It shouldn¡¯t have been anyone.¡± ¡°I know that!¡± Sienna¡¯s scream took James aback. ¡°I don¡¯t care! I don¡¯t¡­ care!¡± Her words devolved into a rapid series of sobs. ¡°It should have been me! I got hurt, and I slowed us down, and Zari¡¯s dead because of me, and it¡¯s my fault, and now you¡¯re being nice to me and I fucking hate you!¡± She yelled the last into the blankets of the hospital bed, leaning into the place she¡¯d been getting her leg examined and the last bandage changed before James came to find her. Her hands found their way behind her head, and as he watched, James was reminded that humans had a wide range of responses to fear, anger, and the feeling of helplessness. And most of them sucked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sienna.¡± He muttered, loud enough to be heard over her crying. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t faster, or stronger, sorry I wasn¡¯t good enough to save her. To save everyone.¡± He didn¡¯t have anything he felt was worth adding. Part of him tried to get him to say something about how she should move on, or try to enjoy her life, or something, but all of it sounded condescending and shitty even before the words made it to his tongue. So he just sighed and stepped back into the hallway. ¡°I¡¯ll be better next time.¡± He promised. ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯ve got. Good luck, Sienna.¡± ¡°You¡¯re going back?¡± She sounded horrified. ¡°Not to the Underburbs.¡± James shrugged. ¡°But there¡¯s always more monsters. And I¡¯m going somewhere else, just to try to improve mostly. There¡¯s a lot of places that are like that, but¡­ well, maybe not safer. But kinder. Softer?¡± ¡°Take me with you.¡± She demanded, voice still wet from her tears. ¡°No.¡± James said for the third time. ¡°Goodbye Sienna.¡± He shut the door, and pressed his eyes closed as he shook his head, before dropping his hand from the long pull bar and turning to head out to find a few more people. He got about six steps down the brightly lit and strangely cheerful feeling hospital linoleum before a golden retriever stepped out in front of him. ¡°The docs say you¡¯re planning something dumb, that¡¯ll make you stronger.¡± Prince said. James sighed and rubbed at his face. ¡°You can¡¯t fucking go on a dungeon delve as a dog.¡± He declared. ¡°Even I have my limits.¡± He said as he walked past, the mimic falling into a trot next to him like a good dog at heel. ¡°First off, I¡¯m a shapeshifter, so I¡¯ll change. But I need to come, maybe Ruby too, and I¡¯d appreciate if you didn¡¯t worry our kids with it. Second of all, maybe ¡®dog¡¯ is my natural form. Ever think of that? And third¡­¡± ¡°There¡¯s no way in hell I¡¯m helping you keep secrets from your friends like that.¡± James said. ¡°Or did you mean kids literally? Are they the same species as you? I assumed they were human. Oh, one of them had lung cancer by the way, did you know that?¡± ¡°¡­what?¡± It was odd to see the human expression of faltering on a dog. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, we took care of it. Anyway. How are you in the cold?¡± James asked. ¡°Fine?¡± ¡°How big can you get?¡± ¡°¡­Why?¡± ¡°Just asking for another reason. Look, if you want to get in on this, a lot of people do, but I¡¯ll add your names to the list somewhere. But you¡¯ve gotta stop lying to me about things.¡± James told the mimic. A golden retriever was basically the perfect face to pout at someone, and Prince put it to excellent use as he lagged behind while James walked toward the exit. ¡°What! I¡¯m telling the truth about everything!¡± Prince put on puppy dog eyes as James gave an exasperated nod to the camraconda nurse on duty at the front desk. ¡°No you aren¡¯t.¡± James said. ¡°Because I know what a lying dog looks like.¡± ¡°How can you possibly know that?!¡± Prince demanded as the hospital¡¯s main door closed behind James. ¡°He can¡¯t actually know that, right?¡± He said, hopping his paws up on the edge of the tall desk to ask Spire-Cast-Behind. ¡°In my experience, he knows many things.¡± The camraconda answered the mimic dog who had been asking a million questions of everyone down here ever since his arrival, double checking the clock for when her relief shift was going to arrive. ¡°I wish you luck finding a spot.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, not like you¡¯d know.¡± The dog sighed dramatically. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about it, you¡¯ve got a whole thing going on here, right? You¡¯re safe as houses.¡± ¡°I will be on two of the expeditions.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said, twisting to gaze at Prince as her surrogate mechanical arms gently pushed the dog¡¯s paws off her desk and a third one found a paper towel to wipe down the surface. ¡°I asked first.¡± ¡°When!?¡± ¡°Humans have invented a technology known as phones.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said, somehow without a trace of sarcasm. ¡°Perhaps you could ask your companions about it sometime.¡± She settled back in her basket seat, bobbing contentedly from side to side as Prince dejectedly moped off to the room that his human friend was in. She hoped the child would have a swift recovery, for one extra reason than she found for most patients here. _____ The next time James knocked on an apartment door, it wasn¡¯t one of the really nice ones. Instead, it was one of the small concrete box rooms that had spawned in one of the basements. Not even one of the early basements, that the Order had converted to bedrooms back before they¡¯d started to develops orange totem technology. It was in the fifth or sixth basement, off on the far side too. Near the shooting range of all places, across from a closet and a dingy bathroom that James made a note to upgrade. The door opened promptly at his knock, and Camille the Azure greeted him, already in her armor. Or¡­ ¡°Cam, you know you can take your platemail off, right?¡± James asked, worry in his words. She just cocked her head. ¡°Why?¡± She asked. ¡°Personal comfort?¡± He looked over her shoulder at the bare concrete room that had a bed in the corner with the covers folded to military precision, and then three unopened cardboard boxes stacked in a pyramid against the wall. ¡°Are you¡­ still getting set up?¡± He asked, fearing he knew the answer. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± She said, worry starting to infect her own voice. Camille wasn¡¯t stupid, and she picked up on James¡¯ anxiety quickly. ¡°What am I doing wrong?¡± She firmed up her tone and directly approached the problem, like she¡¯d been trained. James nodded; that at least he could appreciate. ¡°Okay, so, part of what we want to do here is get you used to enjoying your time. Because if you don¡¯t care about yourself, and your life, it¡¯s hard to really understand why you should care about anyone else. This creates a sort of virtuous circle, where we can get you into the mindset of caring about others, and bringing them up to a comfortable standard of living, so that they then will experience the same transformation.¡± ¡°I am satisfied with how I look now.¡± Camille said. ¡°Mental transformation. I guess I actually do need to specify that.¡± James admitted. ¡°Cam why are you in a basement next to our training range?¡± She tilted her eyes down to the floor, like she was somehow afraid to meet James¡¯ own. ¡°I find the sound familiar.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s depressing.¡± He said without thinking. ¡°But if you¡¯re okay being here, we can at least make your room feel nice, you know? Like, I can get you a rug, maybe some stuff for the walls? A lamp at least so you¡¯re not just sitting in the dark?¡± ¡°I¡­ I would like¡­ to not be in the dark.¡± Camille admitted slowly, still looking at the floor. He was about halfway to patting her on the shoulder, but her words made him stop. Once James realized he was looking at the reactions of an abuse survivor, he pulled back slowly, and just nodded, trying to keep his voice calm even while he was busy thinking of ways to break the knees of the Last Line Of Defense. ¡°Right. I¡¯d say we could ask Momo, but she¡¯s gonna give you a bunch of colored rope lights, and unless that¡¯s what you¡¯re looking for¡­?¡± He made it an open, friendly question. ¡°What colors?¡± Cam asked suddenly. ¡°Uh¡­ I think you can program them for anything? I actually haven¡¯t ever had any, though I keep thinking they¡¯re cool.¡± James answered with a shrug. She straightened up, her platemail making metal clicks around her shoulders. ¡°I would like that.¡± Cam said. ¡°Okay.¡± James smiled at her. ¡°I dunno what the hell Momo was thinking here, but let¡¯s get you set up with a little more comfort, yeah?¡± The next hour, after he convinced her that she didn¡¯t need to be armored around the population of the Lair, was an exercise in finding spare furniture, finding a spare Sarah to help them out, James sending Momo angry messages about abandoning Camille halfway through moving her in, and helping Cam unpack properly. Also it was a series of small moments of him finding his heart hurting when he¡¯d say something that felt normal, like asking permission to enter her room, and getting a confused look in reply. She¡¯d never had a private place to herself. Never had anything more than what she needed. Never not been on ready status for a combat operation. She found the sound of gunfire familiar. Not even comforting. Just familiar. And still, she looked lighter when they were done. New clothes put away in a new dresser, snacks in a little cupboard, the room lit with stripes of purple light that could be changed to something brighter if she needed it, a stuffed animal and a floor rug adding some softness to the room, and Camille standing in the middle of it, looking around like she didn¡¯t understand exactly what had changed. ¡°Coming along nicely!¡± Sarah tapped her fingertips together in a quiet clap. ¡°Also, also, now we know who to go to when we need furniture moved!¡± The dresser had made its way down here by Camille simply picking it up and walking it, without breaking a sweat or breathing hard. ¡°But also, how do you like it?¡± ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± Cam said slowly. James stopped at the end of the bed that Sarah was sitting on, a bundle of packing plastic rolled up under his arm. He set one hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡°She hasn¡¯t¡­ had something like this.¡± He muttered. ¡°Ever.¡± Sarah faltered for a second, but regained her cheerful enthusiasm rapidly. ¡°Well, you have it now.¡± She declared. ¡°Anyway! I¡¯m gonna get out of here and let you enjoy some time to yourself! I¡¯ve got a podcast to do!¡± Her smile stretched to an almost maddened length. ¡°I always have a podcast to do. Did you know it would be this bad, when you stuck me with it?¡± She asked James. ¡°Did you know how many things keep changing? It¡¯s your fault, James!¡± ¡°I just know how much you like keeping busy, and I love you so much I got you exactly what you secretly wanted!¡± James countered, getting a peal of laughter from Sarah as she waved goodbye and gave Cam a sudden but uncontested hug on the way out. ¡°She¡¯s such a fucking nice person.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Yes.¡± Camille agreed, rubbing idly at one arm where Sarah had hugged her. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Kind of hard to answer.¡± He sighed. ¡°But I think the basic truth is that the world is kinder when everyone living in it is kinder, and Sarah just has this unrelenting courage and the willingness to put herself out there.¡± James smiled. ¡°Also she¡¯s an extrovert, which I¡¯m intently jealous of, but whatever.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand.¡± Camille replied. ¡°But I will try.¡± ¡°Honestly? That¡¯s so much better than most people give.¡± James laughed softly. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ve got some stuff to get to, I¡¯ll leave you to your place for a bit. But also, please, you¡¯re allowed to leave the room, wander around if you want, talk to people. I know you weren¡¯t comfortable with the camracondas or the ratroaches, but I swear to you, they¡¯re just people and half of them are nicer than I am.¡± Cam nodded, and repeated the secret words that solved every problem. ¡°I¡­ I will try.¡± ¡°Right.¡± James smiled as he headed for the heavy door, the concrete box feeling a lot more like a real place to live. ¡°Oh, and there¡¯s always food upstairs! It¡¯s kinda random what¡¯s being served, but the kitchen is usually open and you can get a hot meal whenever you want, okay? Don¡¯t think you need to ration your snack food or whatever.¡± She nodded at him stiffly, committing the orders to memory. James studied Camille¡¯s face, as if sensing that she was contextualizing this in a way he¡¯d find uncomfortable, but eventually just shrugged and stepped into the basement hallway. ¡°G¡¯night, Cam.¡± He said. ¡°You weren¡¯t here to help me.¡± She said behind him. ¡°Hm?¡± Camille spoke up, saying the thing that had been bothering her. Taking a chance that she wouldn¡¯t be punished for it. ¡°Before. You weren¡¯t here to help me. You were here to ask something.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± James set his mouth in a thin line. ¡°I was. I¡¯ll ask later.¡± ¡°No.¡± She rebuked him. ¡°I would prefer if you told me what you need of me.¡± He could appreciate that. ¡°As someone with bad anxiety, I get that.¡± James nodded. ¡°I¡¯m planning a series of long dungeon expeditions. Looking for new stuff that could advance the Order, things that change the game. Or just to learn more, grow more. I¡¯ve got a lot of goals that feed back into the one thing, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s a whole planning phase thing. Don¡¯t worry about that. My point is, I was going to ask you.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re strong enough to help me keep everyone safer while we explore. Because I think you need something to do. Because it would be good for everyone if you weren¡¯t isolated.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Like I said. Lots of goals tied up in one action. But I¡¯ll talk about it more and ask later when you¡¯re-¡° ¡°I will join you.¡± Camille said, as blunt as the mace she had leaning in the corner of the room. James met her eyes, and didn¡¯t know what he was seeing there. Part of Camille was a scared and abused girl. And part of her was a soldier. And part of her was trying. And maybe people didn¡¯t have discrete parts like that, and the mix of all these things that was a person just wanted to come explore a dungeon for the first time as something other than an exterminator. ¡°Okay.¡± James nodded to her. ¡°But I¡¯m gonna let you know up front; we try pretty hard to make friends with a lot of the terrifying things we meet.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Camille said, the tiniest hint of a smile moving across her face as an unfamiliar emotion took her. ¡°I have noticed.¡± ¡°Touch¨¦.¡± Chapter 253 ¡°When I looked at myself, I was somebody else¡± -Metric, Underline The Black- _____ ¡°I¡± Vadik said, voice rumbling as he watched the preparations, ¡°am going to be fired for this.¡± ¡°Oh don¡¯t be dramatic.¡± James said, standing next to him with a clipboard and double checking everything coming in. He didn¡¯t actually need the clipboard; he had an organizational program loaded on a compact little microprocessor that was presently wired into his brain. It had taken a day to get used to it, but being able to use his skulljack to instantly look at and modify a checklist was actually more powerful memory magic than the purple orb that gave him a straight stat upgrade to his brain. He added a note that all the water supplies had arrived, and then continued talking to Vad. ¡°Besides, if you¡¯re actually worried, we can do something about it. Bribe the night security guy, erase the camera footage, just take that fish tank full of tiny infomorph buzz saws that Momo has and dump it out in your bosses office. Whatever.¡± The librarian gave James a frown that bordered on a scowl. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡± He flatly ordered. ¡°My boss doesn¡¯t have an office. Librarians here share a space downstairs for desks and personal effects. We don¡¯t have offices.¡± ¡°We do things the same way, actually. Sorta. Sometimes. Actually, hey, have you visited the Lair?¡± James asked suddenly. Vad snorted. ¡°Why would I need to?¡± He asked, waving a hand at the second floor of the library he worked at. He¡¯d done a lot of work earlier in the day shelving new intakes, and he was close to certain that someone here was fucking up what he had put his time into. ¡°You brought the entire fucking thing here.¡± That was an exaggeration. But not by too much. Over twenty people were packed into the space. The Order had moved the tables and chairs of the community space out of the way so that they could fit everyone close to the door, and there were actually a couple people here to put everything back after the assembled group began their delve. But even still, it was packed in here. People and equipment piled in and rushing to get organized before the door to the Ceaseless Stacks opened. James had felt pretty smug that he¡¯d managed to get this whole thing put together and planned out with minimal help, too. For a lot of the people here, it was as simple as telling them to clear their calendars, but that wasn¡¯t a blanket scheduling solution. There had been backups, understudy delvers, as well as getting what amounted to a non-delver support staff to help get things moving at the right speed when it was time to go in. And the supplies. James had a particular fascination with logistics, especially since setting a personal goal of restructuring global ocean shipping within the year. But that was big picture stuff, and while he¡¯d done delves before, the details here were so much more concerned with weight and capacity. Part of it reminded him of that first rescue from Officium Mundi what was now years ago. By the midpoint of that escape, the biggest worry wasn¡¯t the dragons or the staplers, it was feeding everyone. And not wanting anything like a repeat of that, this delve had a particularly robust inventory. Food was easy. They had two copies of the lunchbox of holding lunch, a title that James would never in his live get tired of chuckling at, and that let them bring everything they would need on that end, with a backup just in case. Water was harder. A human needed about five liters of water a day, especially when they were performing constant physical activity. Ratroaches were the same, as was whatever the new mimics were. Camracondas could go without water and just eat yellow orbs instead, but it wasn¡¯t comfortable for them now that they¡¯d gotten used to it, and they needed a couple liters each. So James had rounded up for safety, and they¡¯d brought in 30 of those chunky 5 gallon hard plastic jugs. He¡¯d learned the hard way with the chanters over the last week and a half just how much water that was, and he didn¡¯t like it, but better safe than sorry. They¡¯d drink it down over the week, and replace the weight with stolen goodies from the dungeon. And then everything else. Everything else was a casual dismissal, but it was sort of how James felt about the utter pile of things. Medical supplies, including a chest of ice for the mountain spell Iced Veins that could replenish lost blood. Replacement armor plates, replacement clothing so that everyone had clean socks and underwear. Bedding, ammo, batteries, lights, toiletries. And a hundred magic items; an amount of arcane wealth so fucking absurd that if you¡¯d even told James that he¡¯d have that much some day, he¡¯d have scoffed, and now he was using it on one delve. Some of it from other dungeons, some the still-unrenamed Status Quo items, some custom built for this very delve by the Order¡¯s experts. Fewer full shield bracers than he¡¯d prefer since a lot of them were drained to zero in the last fight, but they¡¯d be here a week, which was ten-plus chances to save a life with each of them. He¡¯d put so much effort into getting it all right. Even just the carts they were using to move everything were picked on purpose for being as light as possible since they didn¡¯t have to worry about terrain rougher than ¡®stairs¡¯. Vad finished saying something else, and James glanced over at him, checking off one last thing in his head. ¡°Hm?¡± He grunted. ¡°Oh, and this isn¡¯t the whole Lair. This isn¡¯t even close to everyone in the Order. This is, like¡­ not even most of our knights. You¡¯re on our chat server, you know this.¡± ¡°You parked a dragon in here!¡± ¡°Yeah, I did do that.¡± James let a dopey grin take over his face. ¡°Ask me how. I¡¯m so fucking clever.¡± He invited the question as he looked at where Pendragon was currently licking dust off the top shelves of the library, the bus sized beautiful creature towering over everyone and moving carefully. Well, carefully in the sense that she wasn¡¯t crushing people; she was still licking shelves for some reason. ¡°You¡¯re not asking.¡± James shook his head. ¡°It was [Move Person], since you aren¡¯t going to ask. Also she¡¯s smaller than normal, since she ate some shrinking pen or something.¡± Vad snorted again. ¡°You were going to tell me anyway. How¡¯s she even getting into the¡­ no, same thing, isn¡¯t it? You don¡¯t have a finite number of uses of that do you?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got about two hundred stockpiled.¡± James confirmed. ¡°Pen¡¯s gonna stay at wherever our camp ends up, probably. But we know there¡¯s enough room for her to maneuver in there when there aren¡¯t shelves.¡± He tuned out Vad quickly as he double checked the roster. Some of the people weren¡¯t using skulljacks, so James couldn¡¯t just ping everyone, he had to get real confirmation. Mentally, he poked Zhu, and the navigator flickered against him in confirmation as he bolted away to go make sure the infomorphs who were coming along were accounted for, while James did a quick head count. ¡°Why are there two dogs?¡± Vad asked just as James was getting to the same question himself. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t¡­ know. That one, the golden retriever, that¡¯s Rho. He¡¯s supposed to be here.¡± James pointed at the inhabitor that was locked into a dog¡¯s form before spotting the other tail in the crowd. ¡°Oh. They¡¯re both golden retrievers. Right. That¡¯s Prince. They¡¯re a shapeshifter. I¡¯ve realized that telling them they can¡¯t be a dog is sorta hypocritical of me, but they¡¯ll still probably change later.¡± Vadik sighed. ¡°Sure.¡± He checked his watch. ¡°Three minutes. Are you sure about this? I mean, I can cancel my vacation. It¡¯s not too late.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t even have to come along!¡± James reminded him. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m gonna.¡± ¡°Then stop trying to talk me out of this.¡± He did an actual last minute sweep of everyone present. Zhu flickered back onto his arm, a spear of orange light impacting and splashing out into a feather pattern before telling James everyone was accounted for on both sides of the physical. ¡°Hang on. Juan!¡± James called into the crowd. The younger man looked up from where he was talking to Spire-Cast-Behind. ¡°What¡¯cah need?¡± He called back as the people around him quieted down. ¡°What the fuck?!¡± James asked, trying to explain by flailing his hands around his head that he wanted Juan to explain what was going on with the half dozen number two pencils orbiting his skull. Juan caught on quickly and relaxed as he answered. ¡°Momo said I had to bring them if she wasn¡¯t allowed to come!¡± He said. ¡°Something about taking them on a walk, or being good luck charms, or¡­ look Momers said I had to.¡± He reframed his answer to something James would instantly understand. Nodding, James checked Vad¡¯s clock again. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. And then he raised his voice. ¡°Okay, people!¡± He announced. ¡°In formation! Vanguard first, clear the door, you know the drill! Everyone make sure your packs and carts are ready to go!¡± He didn¡¯t bother telling them to get to their assigned spots, they were already mostly there. He felt a little bit of a pang of worry as Alanna got ready to sweep the entrance of the dungeon first without him there, but honestly, if anyone in the world could survive being buried under a swarm of hostile fanged textbooks, it was his girlfriend. ¡°Pen, stay back, we¡¯ll pluck you through the door last!¡± He still needed Dave to pick a name for the two of them when they were combined, so James could stop feeling confused and slightly awkward. ¡°Remember, non-combatants, stay on the inside of the group until we¡¯ve cleared the space! Everyone stay quiet until we¡¯re secure! It¡¯s a library, remember!¡± ¡°Ten seconds.¡± Vad told him. James nodded. Took a deep breath. And then right on time, called out the most exciting thing everyone here had heard in a while. ¡°Open the doors! The Ceaseless Stacks awaits!¡± A crack in reality was pulled wide. And with just a few minutes to use it, the Order of Endless Rooms poured through. For the last couple nights, James had been feeling an excited panicked tension. It was hard to sum it up with one word, it was hard to sum it up with fifty, but what it felt like was mostly the simple anxiety that a complex plan that had to work the first time was going to fail. He got this way before vacations, too. Plane tickets were non-refundable, and while it was cheaper to just try again next week on a dungeon, it was still a lot of work to sort this all out, and they didn¡¯t have infinite time. So he¡¯d been worried, fretting without sleep until Alanna and Anesh had made him join their linked gestalt mind and lay down to dream as a single loving and loved person. And even then, that sensation that something would screw up didn¡¯t go away. But now, as he watched everyone move side by side through the doors, watched carts of supplies and magic vanish into another world, watched humans and camracondas that glowed with infomorph passengers carry that light forward, watched everyone who trusted him put that trust to work getting the expedition underway¡­ Right now, he didn¡¯t know what he felt. He was sure there would be problems, but the biggest front loaded worry was gone. Now, all that was left, was to simply go forth. To explore this dungeon to their limits, and to see what was out there. A little relief. A little concern. A little expectation. And a lot of unashamed excitement for what they might find. James watched as Dave and Pendragon [Move Personed] themself through the door, popping into place wedged against the close shelves of the dungeon on the other side. And just like that, he was the last one left. He stalked forward, bringing up the rear and letting the metal security doors swing shut behind him, ready for anything. _____ Long Delve Roadmap - Ceaseless Stacks - Roster Exploration Team 1: James (Zhu accompanying) Arrush Myles Simon Frequency-Of-Sunlight Exploration Team 2: Alanna Smoke-And-Ember (Quoth accompanying) Kirk (Harriet accompanying) Rho Matt Exploration Team 3: Vadik Juan TQ Prince Spire-Cast-Behind Reserve Threat Response Team: Camille the Azure Dave/Pendragon Support / Base Camp: Anesh Keeka Amelia (Red) Nikhail (Aidimy accompanying) Research Group : Chevoy Peng Thermoclese Richardson _____ The vanguard of the expedition, the members most prepared for combat, had moved rapidly to clear the threats out of the area before anyone squishier came in. Some people, like Amelia, had complained at length about how heavy the Order¡¯s armor was, and¡­ that was fair. It had sort of been refined with the users in mind being healthy thirty-somethings that kept refining their physical prowess. Not for older women with old knee injuries, not that this had stopped the alchemist in any way. Once the books that were planning on trying to kill them were dealt with, and the yellow orbs that were the Library¡¯s take on basic skill ranks were added to the storage sacks they¡¯d brought, the expedition did a quick regroup, made sure everyone and everything had made it through okay, and then split up to start to determine what direction they were going to head in. Half the expedition stayed at the first landing they found. Progressing to that point had been almost trivial, even though it felt like every book that could wake up had done so. But for the vast majority of the expedition, this was their first time in the Stacks, so they stayed on guard. The landing was the same one that it always was, James realized. He confirmed it with the others who had been here before; things like the books had changed, the information desk had been restocked and repaired, the ink had been wiped away. But the layout; the crescent of the librarian¡¯s station, the central table with displayed texts, the creaky oak staircases on either side leading up and down levels, the wrought iron chandelier overhead; all of it was the same. It almost felt comfortable. Even with Pendragon taking up half the space available. But no one wanted to stick around the first ¡®room¡¯ of the dungeon forever. So while some of the experienced delvers stayed back, and the engineers cooed over the boxy computer hardware that worked wirelessly with itself somehow, James and Alanna led their teams in opposite directions to try to find a path forward that suited the group. James took his people through the shelves, crossing the landing and heading deeper into the library without touching the stairs. Alanna would be checking around down one floor at first, but ideally they could avoid stairs where possible. The carts at this point were heavy, and so while the first two days were allocated for travel, they still wanted to get as deep as possible and that meant not taking half an hour to move several hundred gallons of water up and down steps that they still couldn¡¯t prove weren¡¯t sometimes trapped. ¡°This places¡¯s so fucking cool.¡± Myles whispered as the group passed the end cap of the fifth row of wooden shelves they¡¯d gone through so far. The rogue, finally getting a crack at a real delve since the plan to keep him mundane as a stealth measure had fallen through, was supposed to be watching their left side. He wasn¡¯t being alert about it. Not that James could blame him. The books tended to telegraph their assaults, and the crab things that lived under the step stools were so peaceful that James sort of wondered if the dungeon had made a mistake with them. ¡°You don¡¯t need to whisper.¡± James replied. ¡°Just keep your voice low. Standard dungeon noise stuff.¡± ¡°Easy!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight cheerfully said as she adjusted the volume on her artificial voice. Myles shot James a look as he peeled his eyes away from the high ceiling and the wrought iron lines overhead that came together to give the illusion of windows. ¡°It is a library though, right?¡± ¡°Well, no.¡± James answered as the group moved. He let Simon take point, the lanky man entirely at home in his armor as he acted as a lure ahead of them for any snappers. ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s library adjacent. But it¡¯s not a real library. You can talk normally, as long as you don¡¯t disturb anything nearby.¡± He jerked a gloved thumb at the sign that hung slightly crooked on the end of the shelf they just passed, helpfully informing anyone that this was the section for ¡®red, biological¡¯. ¡°Like this. It¡¯s faking being a library, but this doesn¡¯t mean anything.¡± ¡°Are we sure?¡± ¡°No. That¡¯s why half the people on the support teams are here explicitly to solve puzzles.¡± James answered. Then he had to stop talking as one of the books high on the shelf made a rattling hiss and launched itself at Simon, while three others started to move like they were waking up. Simon handled his as Frequency froze it in midair. James and Arrush rapidly dispatched the others before they could strike, careful not to splash any of the ink on the parts of them that were exposed. It turned out, the books were venomous, and while it wouldn¡¯t be worth worrying about in the short term, constant skin contact with the ink over the course of a week was ill advised. ¡°Here.¡± James tossed Myles two of the yellow orbs. ¡°What?¡± He got a surprised look in return. ¡°Am I our packmule now?¡± ¡°No, surprisingly, that¡¯s me.¡± James said. ¡°Use ¡®em. It¡¯s tradition for new delvers. And you are a new delver; whatever armory packages you got don¡¯t count.¡± Myles gave him a look James couldn¡¯t decipher, before he looked down at the orbs in his hand, mouth twisting slightly. Then he took a sharp breath, and crushed both of them with a silent pop and a dusting of golden smoke. ¡°Wh- man, what the heck am I supposed to do with a rank in an extinct species?¡± He instantly asked, the strange tension draining away. ¡°Bring them back?¡± Frequency asked, the camraconda using her surrogate arms to move one of the damaged books onto the bottom shelf and out of the way. ¡°We can do that, right?¡± James didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her otherwise. The team kept moving in the closest thing they could to a straight line. Which was actually a challenge in the Stacks. James got the impression that when Vad had suggested the name, he had been more than a little prophetic. The shelves felt like they were akin to the cublices in Officium Mundi; making up a huge part of the core biome of the Library, but subtly warped and changed in ways that made them a challenge to navigate. They curved, for one thing. It was hard to tell if you were just looking at a row of shelves, but once you started going down between two of them, it quickly became apparent that the wood and metal structures tilted ever so slightly. So halfway down, you couldn¡¯t clearly see where you came from or where you were going. And also, they seemed to be taller than they could possibly fit in the space they were put. This was an old trick to James, who was used to seeing things that couldn¡¯t fit be somewhere they shouldn¡¯t anyway. But it was still impressive how the ceiling could be almost claustrophobic over the shelves, and yet have them tower overhead anyway. After half an hour, they had started to get a rough idea of what they¡¯d find in this direction, and it looked mostly promising. The team had passed a few hidden seating areas, little pools of softer carpet and sourceless sunlight with a chair or two. They¡¯d also skirted the edges of what sounded like a water feature, with James and Arrush remembering exactly what tended to dwell around the fountains in here. The Library folded around them as they moved. And James realized just how easy it would be to get lost in here, if he wasn¡¯t careful. They were being careful; Zhu was tracking exactly where they were, and everyone was carrying a pen that would remember where it had been recently and draw a map to let them backtrack. But those were precautions bought with experience and old lucky breaks. If the Ceaseless Stacks had been the first dungeon James had found, he wondered if he would have ended up lost in here forever. He almost had with Anesh, the first time they went into the Office together. Would the now-ancient plan of taping up paper signs to mark his path work here? He doubted it. ¡°Mile mark.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice whispered to him, and James had to repress a groan as he informed Zhu that he also did not have to whisper. The words though were a good indication that the team should turn around. After all, they weren¡¯t out here to explore, really. They were looking for an easy path forward. And with two miles covered, and nothing more dangerous than the fanged books attacking them, this seemed like a good place to start. What they really needed first, though, was to find a semi open area that they could assemble in. There was always backtracking to where they¡¯d heard water, and seeing if it contained some kind of massive green-orb creature. But that was a risk, for obvious reasons. While it was unclear if this dungeon used green monsters as puppets like the Office did, it was hard to mistake the fact that the one they had encountered was large. Large, aggressive, and only really taken down because it had tried to keep a vantage point and hadn¡¯t just decided to use its mass to flatten James and his teammates at the time. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The team¡¯s camraconda had something to say to James¡¯ thoughts on that. ¡°You know I can just stare at things, right?¡± Sunny asked. ¡°I¡¯m magic or something.¡± James shook his head. ¡°You know it isn¡¯t foolproof, and the thing was the size of a truck.¡± ¡°I could stop a truck!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight sounded like she was actually planning on trying it just to prove she could. ¡°Oh, but if we want to find an open area, we should take one of these little paths between the stacks.¡± She twisted her cabled body around, bobbing her head to indicate the line of cracked marble floor that cut a line between the rows of shelves. They¡¯d stopped after coming out of the last one, and a glance behind showed James nothing but shelves and no trace of where they¡¯d started. ¡°If we keep going, we¡¯re just going to end up with more shelves, I bet.¡± ¡°We found that chair.¡± Arrush pointed out. ¡°We¡¯ll need ten or twenty chairs to fit Pen in.¡± The camraconda retorted. ¡°I¡¯ve done the math.¡± The team of six had gone quiet as they¡¯d rearranged their formation, with Frequency in the middle so she could see more angles and Arrush and James at the front, and then begun heading down the more open aisle. Passing row after row after row of shelves, all of them filled with books that were themselves filled with either nothing or gibberish. James had a perverse fear that if he were a dungeon like this, and he knew he needed to make magic items for some reason, then this is exactly what he¡¯d do: he would make a million books that looked like you fed a dictionary into a random number generator, with titles like Cake Bits or Useless Heat Facts. And then he would make some of those books not just blank, or filled with equally random words, but hostile. And then, after all that, he would make one in a million into something useful. And rest easy knowing that no one would ever find it. He was pretty sure the Ceaseless Stacks had done that. But he couldn¡¯t prove it. James stopped thinking and started paying closer attention to his surroundings as an opening came up ahead of them. The shelves to their sides started getting shorter while the ceiling turned vaulted and swept upward toward¡­ nothing. There should have been a skylight or visibility on the balconies of higher floors, but instead there were just more arched shelves forming the dome, like an optical illusion that just barely came together, and rings of hanging wrought iron lamps that produced no light and confused the scene even further. The party slowed, and James felt Zhu fluttering excitedly against his arm. There was a brighter space coming up, somewhere that wasn¡¯t just lit by the grey-orange light that came from nowhere, somewhere more open. And then, suddenly, it was there; a few steps and the way the rows of shelves felt like it blocked any distant vision melted away. And they were looking at where their corridor ran into a wide circle of open space. Piles of books sat haphazardly around the place, along with a layer of scattered newspaper pages that sat unmoving in the still air. The heavy scent of dust grew as they approached, and it quickly became clear that this place was more than large enough to hold their whole group. It also became clear that it was weird. The stone floor, already cracked and scuffed before, was broken in places here. Chunks of it held in place by gravity and mass as blocky formations split through it. Coming up to head height in some places, they looked like tan salt crystal formations; cubes and rectangles almost growing out of the floor. ¡°Those are the computers.¡± Simon stated as he looked over his shoulder. He was still watching the rows to their sides; they¡¯d seen a lot of the fanged books rustling as they passed, but hadn¡¯t gotten close enough to provoke them. Next to him, Myles looked like he really wanted to turn and take a peek too, but his survival training demanded that he make sure nothing snuck up on them in this hostile place. ¡°Aren¡¯t they?¡± Simon continued. ¡°The ones this place uses, they¡¯re just¡­ growing?¡± ¡°They look like geological formations. Which makes sense because silicon-!¡° Frequency-Of-Sunlight didn¡¯t get to finish her sentence before there was a loud caw that interrupted them. James looked up and scanned the shelves that lined the open space. Many of them curved over it, like protective talons. Though on the left side there was an open gap, and what looked like a spiral staircase; it might be a balcony that he could see if they moved in and got a better angle. But he wasn¡¯t looking for that now. Something cawed again, and he snorted as he kept up his search. ¡°There.¡± He softly said, pointing to where an inky crow was nestled in a pile of shredded newspaper, six shelves up on the right side. The little bird spread its skeletal pen wings as James pointed at it, and yelled again, before settling down when James pulled his eyes away and tried to not look intimidating to it. ¡°Hey, uh¡­ I¡¯m noticing something weird.¡± He said slowly. ¡°The bird is speaking?¡± Arrush said, the ratroach grabbing the edge of the short shelf they were next to at the mouth of the space and poking his head around to look at the crow. Caw, it said again, repeatedly, staring down the unfamiliar creature that was looking up at it with a multitude of eyes. ¡°Yes. It is. Birds don¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know that. There could be some weird birds.¡± Frequency pointed out. Myles sounded somewhere between already exhausted, and deeply concerned, as he spoke up. ¡°Earth birds absolutely do not do that. Why is it doing that?¡± What it was doing, James had realized at about the same time as everyone else, was not actually making a noise. It wasn¡¯t cawing, it was yelling the word caw, pronounced quite crow-like, into their heads. ¡°Is it mean? Do we murder it?¡± Frequency asked with an overabundance of enthusiasm for her own pun. James shook his head as he shot the crow an apologetic look. ¡°The last one wasn¡¯t. I think they just want to be left alone, so we won¡¯t attack it. But we are gonna bother it for a while.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s move in, and make sure there¡¯s nothing wrong with this place, before we head back and tell the others.¡± He took a step forward, enduring a barrage of caws from both the crow he¡¯d spotted and another one somewhere high up in the shelves directly behind the entrance. He got used to the strange sound easily, since it was actually close to how Zhu spoke to him when the infomorph wasn¡¯t manifested, but he could see Simon and Myles having trouble. Arrush probably was too, but was pretending he was fine. Shaking his head, James kept a piece of his attention on the birds and let his boots echo on the stone as he moved forward. Nothing stopped him. In fact, once the crows settled down, it almost seemed quieter here than anywhere else. Even the sound of his boots on the stone was muffled by the layer of dust, though the occasional newspaper sheet did make for a slipping hazard. The others followed, leaving a trail in the dust and kicking up plumes of the stuff. Frequency-Of-Sunlight sneezed, a bizarre noise coming from the camraconda as she made a kind of buzzing squeak, dust bursting away from her face as she did. James cautiously approached one of the formations where the boxy computer hardware the Library used was growing like crystals. Gently, while the others watched his back, he toed some of the broken stone, and then tapped at the semi-hollow beige shells of the computers. Nothing happened, though his heart did jump when he turned around to see Arrush struggling to pull one of his knives out of a book. The ratroach, inky blood dripping down his gloved paws, just gave James a sheepish duck of his head as he rapidly wiggled the knife out and gently placed the dead book back on a stack. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°Ignoring that, this place seems pretty safe.¡± One of the skeletal crows cawed in his head. ¡°Exactly, thank you.¡± James nodded in its direction. ¡°I¡¯m sure the engineers will love this shit.¡± He gave a small laugh. ¡°Oh, yeah, the engineers. Sure.¡± Myles said, poking at the metal rim around a glass square growing out of the ground. ¡°Because no one else would find this so goddamn cool. Do you listen to yourself sometimes?¡± He shot James a look over the dark glass of the screen, his face partially shrouded by the helmet he was wearing. Frequency-Of-Sunlight slithered by, leaving a serpentine track in the dust as she scanned the spiral staircase that punched a hole through a semicircle of floor surrounded by smooth white drywall where the shelves didn¡¯t crowd in. ¡°It¡¯s just a computer dude.¡± She said. ¡°You guys make these things.¡± ¡°I feel like that¡¯s giving us a lot more credit than you should.¡± James countered. ¡°Anything on the stairs?¡± ¡°No, just stairs.¡± She shook her head in a bobbing gesture. Arrush sniffed wetly, a line of blue goo forming on the edge of his snout. ¡°I don¡¯t like it here.¡± He commented. ¡°But it¡­ seems¡­ safe?¡± Caw! The crow chimed in with its own opinion. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll make sure we deal with the dust.¡± James promised him. ¡°Zhu, we¡¯re, what, a mile and a half in?¡± ¡°Yes. And I can easily get us back here.¡± The infomorph said. ¡°Everything is labeled. Not in a pattern, but neither are the streets humans build. So I can find it now that I¡¯ve seen it.¡± He gave a smug little flutter, his eye on James¡¯ shoulder narrowing in satisfaction. James smiled at him. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go see how the others are doing, and decide what direction we want to go.¡± He said. ¡°Good work, now I hope no one¡¯s tired, cause we¡¯re doing this hike at least twice more today.¡± _____ They got back later than James had wanted, after an unexpected diversion. It wasn¡¯t even a hostile one, it was just easier to get lost in the stacks than he¡¯d wanted it to be. There was something about libraries that James loved. Maybe it was just nostalgia for a simpler time in his youth, when every book felt equally powerful, and the smell of old paper was enough to set his excitement alight. But even as an adult, he loved what they represented. Access to knowledge, the ordinary magic of being able to send thoughts and ideas across the sea of time, and the simple love of stories. He did not share that love with this place. The Ceaseless Stacks looked like a library, and Simon was quick to realize that the way the shelves towered and curved overhead did a great job of making the humans feel like they were small again. But no quantity of books with titles James couldn¡¯t understand, no weight of the scent of dust and paper, no endless sea of warm wood tones and ambient light, was ever going to be enough to trick him into thinking this place was a real library. ¡°¡­so the idea is that libraries are made to be browsed.¡± James was explaining to Arrush as they finally made their way back to the crowd of the rest of the expedition. ¡°And¡­ oh fucking finally.¡± He practically gasped out as they found their people. ¡°I am, again, very sorry.¡± Zhu sighed. ¡°Ah, not your fault little guy.¡± Simon said as the group shrugged off their packs and James looked around for Anesh. ¡°Getting lost happens. I used to know a guy who got us lost in tumblefeed territory, just having to walk an extra half mile is nothing. You pointed us in the right direction!¡± James felt his mouth quirk downward as he half-listened to Simon¡¯s words. He didn¡¯t really know how to feel about the other man talking about his dead partner as someone he ¡®used to know¡¯, especially since their memories had ended up blended pretty thoroughly. Of course, he realized, if Simon was saying it as a hidden joke, it was entirely possible that the grim humor was something both personalities found funny. Either way, it didn¡¯t feel like the time or place to bring it up, so he located Anesh, and motioned to the others to wait for him as he headed over to talk to their expedition coordinator. Alanna had gotten to his prey before him, so James just slipped up next to his own partners as they finished their conversation. ¡°¡­four or five ¡®levels¡¯ maybe. Whatever that means. Either way, it¡¯s got a big feckin¡¯ landing a couple levels down. More than enough space, though the shelves around it are kinda weird. Dark wood, kinda¡­ uh¡­ organic, maybe? Like they¡¯re grown, not built.¡± ¡°Technically nothing here was ¡®built¡¯.¡± Anesh mused. ¡°James, hey. Welcome back.¡± He greeted his boyfriend with a relieved nod and a sigh. James had known coming in that Anesh was going to fret every time he or Alanna went out to explore, so he just smiled back and accepted it. ¡°How¡¯d your recce go?¡± ¡°Our¡­ yeah, sure. It went okay.¡± James said. ¡°Had some trouble getting back, but nothing too bad. We found a spot that¡¯s, mmm, maybe half again as big as this landing. Not huge, but we could set up there as we progress at least.¡± Alanna bopped him on the shoulder that wasn¡¯t wearing Zhu like a feathery cape. ¡°My spot has this really cool staircase.¡± She offered. ¡°Our spot also has stairs.¡± Zhu leapt to their defense. James laughed and gave the navigator a comforting pat. ¡°Let¡¯s not get sidetracked and bury the lede here. Our spot also has, like, mineral formations of computer equipment?¡± He gestured at where the engineers were playing with one of the tan metal rectangles. ¡°Like that, but a ton of it, growing out of the floor.¡± ¡°I changed my mind I wanna go to James¡¯ spot!¡± Alanna announced. ¡°That sounds cool, and I¡¯m nothing if not willing to compromise!¡± Anesh gave her a suspicious eye. Like he was planning to say something about that, and the true nature he knew of Alanna as someone who was perfectly willing to compromise on tactics, but never on anything she thought was really important. What he actually said was more diplomatic. ¡°Okay. So, how do we do this?¡± He asked. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be our coordinator?¡± James asked jokingly. Glowering at his boyfriend, Anesh folded his arms. ¡°You assigned that to me for some reason.¡± He accused James. ¡°I don¡¯t have some special knowledge, I¡¯m just supposed to make the calls when no one can decide. So¡­ okay, right now, we need to move mostly as a group. James, how bout your team goes first and leads us, Alanna, bring up the rear. Is there room for Pendragon to move or are we going to have to get ¡®clever¡¯?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a pretty large gap over the shelves in most places. She can follow us overhead.¡± James said. ¡°Hardest part will be the longer curved shelf sections, but I think we can make it work. This place has a lot more elbow room for a dragon than I¡¯d have thought.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Anesh thought for a second. ¡°Let¡¯s just move now, no reason to wait. Can you two tell everyone quietly?¡± ¡°On it.¡± James said with a nod. He and Alanna shared an improvised and awkwardly misaligned fist bump before breaking into laughter, and then sandwiching Anesh in a kiss, before the three broke apart and went to get the expedition moving. It wasn¡¯t a lot of work, they¡¯d basically just parked here for an hour as a temporary stop, so no one had gotten settled in. Well, almost no one. Chevoy tried to wave James off as he approached her. An almost aggressive motion even as she kept her eyes on the computer she and the older man with her were working with. ¡°We need more time on this.¡± She told James. ¡°You¡¯re gonna say that all week.¡± He informed them. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°We still can¡¯t get this stuff to ¡®pair¡¯ properly back at the Lair.¡± Chevoy said. ¡°But here, it¡¯s almost¡­ not effortless, but intuitive. I think it¡¯s the desk.¡± She rapped her knuckles on the wood surface, getting a startled squeak from Keeka as he helped Amelia move a cart past them. ¡°Sorry.¡± Chevoy said without sounding really sorry. ¡°But yeah, this is what I want to work on here.¡± James shook his head. ¡°We can¡¯t leave you here, and we¡¯re not splitting up. Besides, this is right near the entrance. You can actually just come back next week for this. Also, we¡¯re going to check out a place where these things grow, so you¡¯ll have more time with them.¡± The middle aged man, partly balding with sandpaper facial hair, slowly turned to look at James. ¡°Like fruit?¡± Their newest programmer hire asked slowly. ¡°More like mineral formations.¡± James answered. The words were like their own magic spell, getting the two different tech specialists up and moving at a rapid pace. James wanted to laugh, but kept it in; the group of twenty people were already making enough noise and he didn¡¯t need to add to it any more than was required. He did genuinely find it amusing that someone they hired to pick up Virgil¡¯s work on skulljack firmware, and someone who was working on a space elevator, were both so excited by hardware that was eclipsed in power by the existence of Bluetooth. But hey, maybe the fact that it was literal magic made a difference. James double checked that all their supplies were accounted for, and led them out to the next staging site within the next five minutes, feeling good about things so far. _____ On every dungeon delve James had been on, injuries had just been something that happened. Sometimes your attention slipped, or you missed a strike in a fight, or you just got ambushed, or a trap went off at the wrong time. Up until now, luck and grit and adaptability had meant that no one had died from any of these hits, but they represented a form of attrition. During a delve, they pushed the exit threshold closer. The time at which the team turned around, or took the painful shock to the nervous system and teleported out. Where continuing was a terrible idea. Actually, this was part of why no one had died; the Order were real people with real instincts, and in situations where James would have gotten hundreds of characters killed if he were playing a roguelike during his downtime, the actual delvers instead would opt to just fuck off. They didn¡¯t need anything the dungeons had to offer right now, all further exploration was voluntary, and so if the risk mounted, leaving was just the best choice almost every time. That said, they had planned to be here for a week. Which meant injuries suddenly got a new context. If they were light, and happened early, then whoever got hurt would recover before the expedition ended. If they were too heavy, then they represented a potential loss of a much larger venture. So they went cautiously. Not that they didn¡¯t move cautiously normally, but in this case, they had the force strength and the magical backup to cover all the angles and handle anything the dungeon threw at them. It didn¡¯t hurt either that the Ceaseless Stacks seemed to love the living book full of teeth trick, and used it far more than anything else. Because that trick, it turned out, was something the Order had a simple and easy counter for. North Apple Crumb, ¡ª¡ª¡ª, Swarm Sentry. The glasses that deduced faction affiliation and job title were, it turned out, excellent at picking out which books were alive. It even gave their titles, though in place of the bestowed name of the Ceaseless Stacks, there was¡­ not nothing, exactly. But a sort of nails on the chalkboard scream, a visual icon that screamed in the mind when read. But softly enough that they were still sweeping the nearby shelves with multiple sets of eyes. James pointed out the book, ignoring the twitch in the corner of his eye as the noise crested. Myles sighed and stepped toward it, poking gingerly at the worn paperback with an aluminum baseball bat he¡¯d borrowed from Simon. ¡°Hey. I¡¯m legally obliged to tell you we don¡¯t want to fight.¡± Myles said for the fiftieth time today. The book didn¡¯t listen, and Myles swore as it lunged for him, only to be stopped midair by Frequency, and then hit repeatedly with the baseball bat. The camraconda ability letting the hits still cause damage, even as the rest of the book was frozen. James had long since filed that away under ¡®weird shit he didn¡¯t understand¡¯, and moved on, and right now he was too busy rubbing at his right eye and trying to make the headache go away to really be concerned with how casually Sunny violated the laws of physics. Then James put the glasses back in place on his nose, took a breath, and kept moving slowly forward. Behind them, others followed, even Pendragon doing her best to move quietly as they methodically cleared a wide path for the expedition to follow. Right now, with people to swap out, camracondas for overwatch, glasses for spotting ambushes, and all the time in the week? There was no reason to start letting injuries build up at all. _____ They took a break once everyone was moved in amid the crystal formations of library computers. Not a very long one, but enough for the delvers to catch their breath. The plan wasn¡¯t to set up camp here. After all, they were all mostly fresh, even after a few hours in the dungeon, and they wanted to go far deeper. This spot was just meant to be another place to leapfrog from; scout groups moving out ahead and finding another safe path to their next rest point. Eventually, they¡¯d need to stop for the ¡®night¡¯, but eventually wasn¡¯t now. Also the Ceaseless Stacks might not even have a night. The door opened at three AM, after all, and it looked like a constant grey afternoon was just outside somewhere nearby all the time they¡¯d been in. Its idea of night might just be slightly fewer elusive sources of light from just around corners. During the rest, James did his best to relax. He wasn¡¯t feeling bad, by any stretch, and the sensation of comfortable pressure in his muscles without any pain made him wish he¡¯d started exercising more seriously earlier in his life. But he did know that he couldn¡¯t keep this up all day for a whole week without taking care of himself. So he claimed a stack of heavier books as a seat, after making sure none of them were going to rip his ankles off, and settled in to watch the others. To no surprise, half the group that was here to study dungeons up close zeroed in on the parts of the computer formations that had monitors, and started trying to get them to work. To some surprise, James noticed TQ hanging out with them, but that sorta made sense too. The camraconda who he¡¯d been getting closer to lately seemed to relish puzzles of all sorts, and that included cracking people¡¯s passwords. Keeka, taking his assigned job very seriously, moved around the dispersed cluster of Order explorers, making sure everyone was actually drinking water and staying hydrated. James tried to bite back his smile as he watched Keeka ask Arrush at least three times if he needed a new water bottle, the lithely rebuilt ratroach circling back past his boyfriend repeatedly as he scurried through the rest point. Most everyone looked pretty alright, with the exception of Amelia. The woman was the oldest person on the delve, even if the ex-Alchemist wouldn¡¯t actually tell James how old she was. And she was clearly out of breath from the march here, having pushed herself to stay with the group. Or at least, she was out of breath until she pulled a pair of small flasks out of her coat and took sips from each. The transformation was almost immedient as she straightened up, breath coming slower and steadier. She noticed the golden retriever sitting near her watching as she capped one of the flasks, and sighed dramatically as she offered it out. Prince declined, but the two started talking about something in quiet voices. The loudest single noise, briefly, was the sound of Pendragon as she settled down onto the floor. The paper dragon - though paper was probably only about a third of her body mass at this point - pulled back the tips of her claws that had originally been formed from office chairs to reveal smoothly rolling semi-organic wheels that she used to slide herself down mostly quietly. Quietly except for the sound of her claws on the cracked marble. She settled in curled around one of the metal formations, long neck craned upward, her hornless head moving back and forth as she watched the tops of the shelves for anything approaching them. Dave had stayed connected to her this whole time, the duo planning to only split for actual camps. James kept a casual eye on Camille, too. She was around, technically. Her job was to be the last line of¡­ James crushed that thought halfway through it. Her job was to make sure the less experienced combatants stayed safe as they ventured deeper. Right now, there wasn¡¯t anything threatening for her to face, but that didn¡¯t stop her from standing at a kind of parade rest, sweeping the area with as much vigilance as Pendragon was. Every time one of the crows cawed in their heads, her eyes would flick toward them like she was trying to pick apart the nature of their existence. Once, she turned her head to look at one directly, and it had shut up for the next ten minutes. ¡°Hey.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice brought him around from watching Kirk taking photos of the optical illusion of a ceiling. ¡°Don¡¯t get up.¡± He added, stopping James from doing exactly that. ¡°Okay. Why?¡± James asked as he adjusted the Dictionary Of Arboreal Maledictions that his ass was currently resting on, before settling back and resting one of his feet on the helmet he¡¯d taken off and left on the floor. Anesh ruffled his hair affectionately, ensuring that James was going to have to redo his ponytail shortly. ¡°I¡¯m sending Alanna and Vadik out to scout. You get to sit.¡± There was a short burst of concern, which James also did his best to set aside. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± He nodded. Logically, he understood that he actually could not be the one in danger all the time, and that rotating teams was sort of why they¡¯d brought so many people. In fact, his group being fresh and ready to respond was how they helped make things safer for the others. But that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t worried that Alanna was going off without him. ¡°Guess I should find something to amuse myself for an hour or two.¡± He thought out loud. Ten minutes later, after Alanna and Vad decided which directions they were going - Vad¡¯s team was going down the corridor through the shelves with more elbow room that led deeper into the dungeon, Alanna had opted to take the spiral staircase up a level and do a looping look around above them - a little under half the expedition split off and left them. ¡°And if you hear singing, remember your improv lessons!¡± James told the delvers as they left. ¡°Of course.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said, the camraconda twisting to address him as she slithered away with her team. ¡°I have been training in the crucible of Wednesday night rap battles.¡± The words hit James like a mental assault, and it wasn¡¯t until they had moved out of sight that he turned to Arrush who was standing next to him and poking at a spiral of ink on the edge of a shelf. ¡°Hey, you actually live at the Lair. Is she¡­ messing with me? Is there some kind of rap battle league that I don¡¯t know about?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush said, nodding his angular muzzle without looking up. ¡°To which part?¡± James asked. ¡°Both. What does this say?¡± He asked. ¡°It¡¯s Hebrew.¡± A woman¡¯s voice made Arrush jump, but James had seen Amelia approaching like she had a question for him, so he stayed steady. ¡°It¡¯s something like ¡®meevtzah¡¯. Either a bargain or a sale, or some kind of planned skirmish.¡± When the words flowed off the wood and vanished through the air to reappear somewhere on her body, and Amelia started looking for her newest tattoo with an air of panic as she realized what she¡¯d done, James had a question of his own. ¡°What a weird word. Do you know the history of that one? Because I would love to know if it was one of those things first.¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t know the history of a word.¡± She snapped at him irately, before composing herself. Next to James, Arrush made a hissing sound that was his way of trying to hold back a laugh, before he excused himself silently. Amelia took a breath, and then steadied herself. ¡°I need to know what I¡¯m supposed to be doing here.¡± James smiled at her placatingly. ¡°This.¡± He said, motioning to the now blank section of wood. ¡°You¡¯re not a fighter, but that¡¯s okay. You know, someone once told me that the human mind is the most valuable object on the planet, but you can¡¯t stockpile them. You have to actually use them to get the value. So that¡¯s why you¡¯re here. And¡­ you know, because you asked to come. Obviously.¡± It became clear rapidly that Amelia took this the wrong way. ¡°Good, I can do that.¡± She said. ¡°But I don¡¯t want more tattoos.¡± She passed her eyes across the group. ¡°Can I borrow that girl?¡± ¡°Cam? Uh¡­ you can ask her, and-¡° ¡°Excellent.¡± The tone made James feel like he was back in third grade again, somehow. Amelia strode away to address Camille, before taking the armored girl with her as she started scouring the nearby shelves and surfaces for more loose nouns. James nodded to himself. ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯ll go well.¡± He said. Then, not feeling like sitting down for the hour or two before they moved again, he went to help the irritated Researcher while she tried to use a crowbar to pry apart some of the larger pieces of computer hardware jutting from the floor. Soon enough, their expedition would start to run into more risks and more problems. But right now, with a safe zone under their control and people on watch, James felt like making himself useful. It might not be until tomorrow, but the real fun was still to come. ____ Ceaseless Stacks Expedition Report - Day 1 - Acquisitions Size 1 yellow orbs (Library) : 366 Living word tattoos (Verb) : 12 Living word tattoos (Noun) : 31 Living word tattoos (Adjective) : 2 Computer components (Various) : 6 Mundane books with titles that amused someone : 2 Update : Preview Chapters I''ve finally gotten around to restoring the first three chapters of book one, so that anyone new, or anyone you''re trying to get into the series can check those out if they want a taste of the story. The versions that are up now are ever so slightly different than they were when first posted, for editing reasons, and also because it''s basically impossible to look at work you did five years ago and think it''s perfect. I didn''t change anything plot relevant though, so long time readers don''t need to worry about me slipping retcons in under the radar. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Anyway, that''s the update! Normal chapter this Saturday, nothing new to report. Chapter 254 ¡°I grew up reading Redwall. The opening pages were full of lavish descriptions of playful merriment. I loved those pages. But they always gave way to chapters about war, pillaging, and slaughter. So let¡¯s ask: what if the meadow gets to stay safe and happy this time? What if those opening pages last forever?¡± -Avery Alder, Wanderhome- _____ Settling down to camp for the night had been so close to restful. The Ceaseless Stacks had failed to manifest a nighttime yet, but the pale werelight of the dungeon hadn¡¯t gotten in the way of sleep. Being in a dungeon had though, for James and for a lot of others. Even with a watch set up, the day had been long and tiring and everyone was aware of the potential danger that surrounded them. Especially after the incident with the chair. Their final campsite, two more leaps and maybe five miles farther into the dungeon, had ended up being a reading space of sorts. In the middle of a small maze of shelves, ring after ring of curved wood hiding it away, it sat empty. Long tables growing from the floor, the cool oak stacked with books and the occasional reading lamp, ringed in equally hard wooden chairs. There were also a few smaller tables with pairs of more comfortable armchairs at the back of the shelves from where the maze had deposited them. And after the second sweep of the place to make sure no more of the books were going to attack, that the lamps weren¡¯t going to explode, and that the crows nesting high overhead weren¡¯t actually angry enough to attack, it had only been natural for the more exhausted members of the expedition to take a seat in the most comfortable spots. Amelia had settled into the chair with a sigh like she was twenty years older and her bones were about to fragment to dust. And in the moment, it had seemed to her like it was the perfect seat for a human being. She had settled her head back, and considered a brief nap before buckling down to try to understand what it was about the dungeons that gave people their strange instincts in using the Sap of Knowledge. Then she had screamed, as she realized she was halfway sunk into the chair, her forearms entirely engulfed in the plush material of the seat¡¯s own arms. The luxuriously soft padding diffusing where her body touched it into something like sand, pulling her deeper in with every second. Juan and Simon had been at her side in an instant, since they were the two who were closest to stealing the comfy chairs themselves. But even working together, neither of the two men could pull Red out of the padded seat she was sinking into. In fact, pulling seemed to make it worse. Then Camille had appeared a beat later, ready to kill whatever the problem was, but before she could exacerbate the problem, James and Alanna had both had the same thought and yelled for her to stop, and instructed the unnaturally strong woman to pull Amelia out slowly. Once the initial shock had worn off and everyone could calm down, it didn¡¯t take much effort at all to extract the older Alchemist. When she stopped struggling so much, her rate of sinking slowed dramatically, and when light but consistent pressure was applied, it was possible to hold her in place while James got the others to use nearby books to scoop away the dissolved chair and relieve the pressure that was holding her in place. ¡°Cool. So some chairs are quicksand. Love it.¡± James tried to sound sarcastic, but he was actually grinning like an idiot when he¡¯d said it. It was hard to not be excited when the thing that saturday morning cartoons had prepared him for his whole childhood to face was real now. And then, attracted by the scream and the yells afterward, a tide of toothy books had hit their camp. James counted them lucky that it wasn¡¯t anything worse, and everyone already being alert meant that the fight was frenetic, but not overly dangerous. But it was a reminder that they weren¡¯t safe here, not really. So no one had slept easy on the first night. James had stayed up a bit later than he needed to. Keeping watch, and then consuming the food and water that Keeka made sure to bring him. Also taking some time to make a note of the event in his personal little pad. Not just what had happened, but who had helped. While the others had eventually settled down on the sleeping mats and bags they¡¯d brought, or taken their own watch shifts, somewhat awkwardly getting into the routine of camping with so many others nearby, James had stayed restless. And not just because he felt deeply uncomfortable using the bathroom in the blue-enchanted buckets they¡¯d brought that turned waste into dirt. Though he did silently admit to himself that he owed Momo a lot for those. He just had a hell of a time shaking the feeling that there should have been more resistance than a pile of paperbacks. And when he did eventually sleep, pressed up against Anesh¡¯s back as he traded places with Alanna, he couldn¡¯t help but doze off wondering if they were missing something. _____ The next day, James woke up sore, and kinda regretted the idea of a week long delve right away. Sleeping under a table was something he hadn¡¯t done since high school LAN parties, and the sleeping bag he¡¯d been sharing had been mostly confiscated by Alanna. Though she¡¯d been kind enough to layer it back over him when she¡¯d gotten up first. James rose and stretched, feeling a strange sense of comfort at being in his boxers around a group of people. Residual immunity to embarrassment from having gotten used to the open baths, maybe. Or maybe he was still a little groggy and didn¡¯t have time to think about it. Either way, he took the time to dress and buckle on his armor before he grabbed a banana for breakfast and got ready for their start of day meeting. ¡°Alright. Welcome to the briefing James has incomprehensibly put me in charge of.¡± Anesh told the group of five people. Three delve team leads, one Researcher, and one¡­ whatever Keeka was. Support teammate. Their job was to sort out the day, then pass it back to everyone else, and get moving. ¡°Today we¡¯re going to search around our immediate area for anything of interest, and then spend the back half of the day moving deeper. Priorities are finding a computer with a map, or asking a catalog for a good place to move the group to. James, I want your group to scout around us in an arc this way¡­¡± Anesh indicated on a quickly sketched map. ¡°¡­and then come back around, and trade off with Vad. Alanna, can your group head out and see if you can find us our next staging point?¡± ¡°Yeah, we can do that.¡± She nodded, listening while she fidgeted with her armor¡¯s chestplate and tried to make it sit where it was supposed to. ¡°You guys gonna be okay here?¡± Juan nodded, stifling a yawn and sending the pencils orbiting his head bobbing in the air. ¡°We¡¯ve got the most dangerous thing here.¡± He jutted a thumb over his shoulder at Camille. ¡°And also Pendragon in second place.¡± ¡°She can hear you, you know.¡± James said. ¡°I stand by what I said.¡± Juan doubled down, but he didn¡¯t look in Cam¡¯s direction. ¡°Okay banter later.¡± Anesh snorted. ¡°Just an easy day. If you find something really dangerous, call it in and fall back, and we¡¯ll prepare a plan of attack, okay?¡± ¡°Yes boss.¡± Vadik sounded less sarcastic than James would have expected. When he leaned in to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek, he was exactly as sarcastic as he meant to be. ¡°Yes boss.¡± James said with a wild grin. ¡°I¡¯m going back to sleep.¡± Zhu said, threatening to sink back into James¡¯ shoulder. The team captains started to head back to assemble their people, some of them still asleep from longer watch shifts. Which left Anesh with two people. ¡°Keeka, I don¡¯t have anything special for you today. You¡¯re doing good. Juan¡­ I dunno, anything Research wants to poke around at?¡± ¡°Peng wants to dissect a couple of the books.¡± Juan said casually. ¡°We¡¯ll probably use one of the back tables for it. Chevoy is still trying to dissect the computer chunks we brought. I¡¯m trying to map the ceilings. We¡¯ve got stuff to do.¡± ¡°The¡­ what?¡± Juan made a small hum as he looked back at Anesh. ¡°Hm? Oh. Something Arrush said about the ceilings. They¡¯re all sort of optical illusions. I¡¯m looking for any kind of pattern in them. Anyway. If you need something specific, let me know. But yeah, the rest of us are good just doing our own thing.¡± ¡°Got it. Keeka, you alright?¡± Anesh asked, and the black furred ratroach nodded back vigorously, already fine having been told he was doing good. ¡°Okay. We¡¯ll check back in eight hours from now or when Alanna pokes something dangerous.¡± He rose from his crouch and avoided clapping his hands as he sent them on their way. James liked the efficiency. He also liked having a clear task to accomplish, especially one that might lead them to finding something cool. And already dressed and armored, he felt like he was the kid who was too excited for summer camp again as half his team was still finishing their mundane coffee. So rather than be restless, or be like Alanna and bully his teammates into going faster, he sat on a throne of textbooks and tried to improve his ability to read pdfs through his skulljack. He had one saved on a USB drive connected to his braid that was a beginner¡¯s guide to building your own PC, and he¡¯d thought he could snag a few points for his computer science lesson during the downtime in here. But it turned out, there wasn¡¯t much downtime, and also James didn¡¯t really know how to open files with his mind when he didn¡¯t have an intermediate program to help. So he ended up just sitting next to Smoke-And-Ember, while the two of them waited for their respective teammates. ¡°Why don¡¯t we all have the nerf gun that both looks and behaves like something improbably dangerous from Destiny 2?¡± Smoke-And-Ember asked James as the camraconda focused his camera eye on a silently judgemental ink crow perched above them. James hadn¡¯t spoken much with this particular camraconda, but it had quickly become apparent that he had a hobby in gaming. ¡°I could fire six at once. Look.¡± His mechanical arms splayed out, the ones that were on standby unfurling with a soft whirr from his backpack. ¡°I could be the protagonist.¡± ¡°First off, you¡¯re right, we should name the Nerf gun something absurd.¡± James agreed to an unspoken comment. ¡°But also it just doesn¡¯t fit in the copier envelope. And even if it did, it¡¯s the gun bracelet that really makes it useful, and we have a pretty limited number of those. I mean, we have sixty of them, but half of them are bound to things we use and the other half are bound to things we don¡¯t have and still haven¡¯t regenerated a new charge.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll find a magic book gun in here or something.¡± The camraconda hissed a laugh, suddenly shaking with amusement as he fought to make his digital voice say the words that he had thought. ¡°It would¡­ it would¡­ load a magazine.¡± ¡°I feel like our greatest gift to your people is that someone taught you puns.¡± James said with a smile. ¡°Oh, I thought of another also! Also, we¡¯re in the Ceaseless Stacks where I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen anything that isn¡¯t incredibly flammable! So maybe don¡¯t live up to your name that much.¡± ¡°My¡­ oh! Yes, that would be bad.¡± Smoke-And-Ember replied with a nod. James found himself smiling when he caught sight of a few others heading their way. ¡°Hey. Looks like you¡¯re up. Um¡­¡± Smoke-And-Ember twisted his corded body to look at the approaching group of humans and one inhabitor dog, Alanna grinning as she cracked her neck, ready to throw them into the unknown. ¡°Heh.¡± The camraconda spoke the word through his digital voice. ¡°Yes. I will keep your partner safe.¡± He said. ¡°I would never phrase it that way.¡± James said, holding up a gloved hand. ¡°Yes.¡± Smoke-And-Ember replied as he let his authority scarf unfurl slightly to float around his neck. ¡°That is how we know you are smarter than you let on.¡± ¡°What¡¯s this about James being smart?¡± Alanna asked with a gleeful look as she ruffled his hair on the way past. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± James said in the low tone he¡¯d gotten used to using on every dungeon delve. ¡°Have fun! I¡¯ll be right behind you guys through the maze, so just know that if you get lost I¡¯ll know!¡± Alanna hummed out a laugh. ¡°Oh, good motivation!¡± She said. ¡°Alright boys, let¡¯s get moving.¡± She stepped off the flat carpet of their campsite, boot making a hollow thunk on the cracked and scuffed stone of the path through the towering shelves that twisted back and forth to create a little labrinth around them. All it took was one turn, and she was out of his sight, waving to James over her shoulder. He smiled to himself as Frequency-Of-Sunlight excitedly took the other camraconda¡¯s place, and a sharp eyed Simon added himself to their rally point, watching the shelves like he expected the wood itself to attack them. Myles joined them shortly after, which just left one person, though a quick glance around showed that Arrush was slightly occupied by Keeka fussing over his armor, adding a refilled water bottle to his bag, and pulling his boyfriend down to his level for a long and passionate kiss. James stopped glancing, and resigned himself to waiting another few minutes. The Library would be there when they were ready. _____ Half an hour later, midway through the rough arc that James and his team were tracing around the campsite, something changed. It wasn¡¯t abrupt. The wood of the surrounding shelves had been getting darker, and when they walked through the stone corridor, it was easy to see that the shelves themselves weren¡¯t nearly as long as they had been. It was like they were being split apart, gaps forming between them that weren¡¯t quite pathways, but weren¡¯t quite nothing either. The shelves getting narrower and narrower, the gaps more common, but not themselves wider. Arrush pointed out the ceiling overhead. Right now, it was a smooth dark brown surface. Not natural wood color, some kind of paint that mimicked it. Or maybe the dungeon didn¡¯t need to bother with that sort of illusion, and just made a material that looked like painted wood without being either wood or paint. That wasn¡¯t important. What was important was that ahead of them, the ceiling came to a sort of end. Like it tapered off, and what was past it wasn¡¯t visible, just open air. They¡¯d seen this before. It was what it looked like around the landings; where the Library offered up a much more open area. But before James could start to think that they might have found a nearby spot to explore, Zhu tapped him on the neck. ¡°Look.¡± The navigator directed the group¡¯s vision with an orange line of light. The shelves didn¡¯t stop. Progress was still slow, and it was easy to lose track of just how little they¡¯d moved when they had to stop and check for hostile books every ten steps, but it started to become clear as they approached what the problem was. What had looked like a simple change of direction in the hallway they were walking was anything but. Instead, the stone floor simply came to an end at the foot of a tall shelf, and didn¡¯t turn or start again. As they stepped out underneath the taller ceiling, Myles and Frequency stared upward at the patterns in the dark wood high overhead. It went so far up that they lost sight of it; the light dimming around the team, leaving them not in darkness, but certainly with thicker shadows. ¡°Do we turn back?¡± Simon asked the important question as he shifted his stance to face whatever might be ahead of them. ¡°I think we can take a look a little further. Zhu, anything?¡± James asked his mostly incorporeal friend. The navigator splayed his taloned hand against the back of James¡¯ own. ¡°It¡¯s weird, but not¡­ it¡¯s one of those places designed to make you lost. I don¡¯t think it will work on me, but I said that yesterday.¡± James stepped up to the end of the dirty marble hall, and set his hand on the side of the wood shelf there. It wasn¡¯t small, certainly. But it was the thinnest shelf he¡¯d seen so far. Three feet across, and about as deep, too. It curved backward almost organically farther up, dodging away from the last bit of the lower ceiling before it was fully free to grow. As soon as James thought the word ¡®grow¡¯, he realized what he was looking at. Dozens, maybe hundreds of shelves like this one lay ahead of them. The semi-orderly pattern of rows and hallways breaking down into something more like living chaos. He looked past the shelf, and could see three or four more layers deep, to where some of them were thinner, some had rougher or different colored wood paneling, where the light truly did seem to be more shadow than anything else. ¡°It¡¯s a forest.¡± James whispered. ¡°Well we can¡¯t not check that out.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight stated. And as if that broke the spell of concern, everyone agreed with her. The camraconda slithered past James, her armored form taking point as they started to slowly make their way in amid the shelves. They walked deeper and deeper into the shelves that grew tall around them like tree trunks. Quickly, it became clear that they had a kind of rough bark texture to them. And also, they had barely any actual books on them. Sometimes there was one or two tattered old text, but the place was mostly empty of paper. The floor underfoot was mostly carpet, but every now and then, James would take a step and feel it squish like it was wet paper. Nothing tried to grab them from it, and they didn¡¯t sink down into the spots they found, but it added a moisture and a swampy quality to the air. The carpet was getting a little more plush, too. They were in the process of switching formation when they heard the first caw. Arrush¡¯s claw tightened on Simon¡¯s shoulder, threatening to shear through the armor there as the ratroach tensed for a fight. The word yelled into their head by the skeletal pen crow poking its head out of one of the shelves ahead caught them all of guard. Then another one joined it. And another, and another. From all around them, the screaming of caws and squawks and other avian words filled their heads so much they couldn¡¯t hear each other. James settled his hand on his gun as the group circled up, keeping a shelf to their backs as they watched for anything approaching. Then it went quiet again. And when their hearts or camraconda equivalents stopped racing, they moved on. A little slower. ¡°Hold up.¡± Simon said eventually, the quiet words calling them to a stop. ¡°What is that?¡± They¡¯d gotten even deeper, and the air was starting to feel chilly. Ahead of them, barely visible through the shadows, something was clinging to the side of a thin oak shelf. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ tell.¡± James muttered. ¡°Anyone have better dark vision than me?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush hissed out. ¡°It¡¯s a white ball of paper.¡± ¡°¡­just clinging to the side of the shelf?¡± Myles didn¡¯t sound happy with that at all. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Standard approach.¡± James ordered. ¡°Sunny, show us line of sight, Myles, Simon, fan out.¡± He verified Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s angle of view through their skulljack connection, as he and Arrush started creeping forward. When he got closer, James got a better look at the object. About the size of a softball, glistening where the dim light touched it. It looked a lot like¡­ ¡°¡­paper mache?¡± He frowned, and reached down to his waist to draw the long blade that doubled as a stick for poking foreign objects. ¡°James.¡± Arrush¡¯s voice sounded weird saying his name. James had never thought about it before, but he¡¯d never actually heard the big ratroach call him anything directly. This time, though, he froze and looked up to match where Arrush was looking. There were more of the little balls on the next few trunks of the shelf forest. But they stopped being little really quickly. Two trees ahead, past this outer line where they¡¯d found the first one, there was a slimy shell of paper that was so heavy it drooped down to the floor, looking way too much like a cocoon for comfort. ¡°That one looks different.¡± Myles commented, twenty feet to the side, comparing the big one to all the smaller balls of paper around it. ¡°Do we want to approach?¡± He frowned and repositioned as his foot made the floor sink a half foot when he stepped on one of the wet parts. ¡°Let¡¯s back off before-¡° One of the wads of paper exploded. Not the one in front of James, thankfully, but one slightly farther in. The burst of paper mache splattered across the floor and shelves around it, as a black blob flopped out before shaking itself and lunging up into the air. The blob itself flapping out into slimy wings, twisting itself around and revealing a body that was like a single fluid and morphing eyeball. It didn¡¯t sit still for very long, but James was pretty sure it had a single big claw dangling underneath it as it shot up to the higher reaches. ¡°That was not one of the crows.¡± Frequency commented. ¡°That was not even close to okay.¡± Zhu added. ¡°I know I¡¯m not in a position to call things weird, but that was too much eyeball.¡± James pursed his lips, the comment drawing a snort of laughter from him as he slowly jerked his head down to look at Zhu¡¯s single large manifested eye on his shoulder. ¡°I know what I said.¡± Zhu answered the unspoken question. Another muffled splat sounded nearby, followed by the sound of flapping. ¡°I think we woke them up!¡± Simon called as another of the blobs unfolded. James saw the one in front of him start to wobble, and made a snap decision. Expending a little Breath and feeling the cold seep into his skin, he shot out a roughly constructed arm of ice. Not caring to make it anything elegant or useful, it was just a single jointed limb with a flat ¡®hand¡¯ that he curled around the ball in front of him. Unfortunately right now, the Mountain spell still ¡°let¡± him feel through the limb, so the gooey slime of the paper mache cocoon exploding and the sudden writhing of the creature struggling against his unexpected grasp was viscerally unpleasant to James. He hadn¡¯t actually meant to hold onto the sticky bat eyeball thing at all, but apparently, it didn¡¯t want to wait for him to react. Which meant he also felt it when it cracked itself in half and its rows of teeth shattered his flat ice fingers, carving through his limb even as he stifled a scream and dropped the magic into a puddle of water. ¡°They bite!¡± He called out to the others. And then Zhu¡¯s own arm shot off his own to slice a rapidly moving ball out of the air before it hit them, the semi corporeal talons imparting enough force to cut and knock the eyeball off course. ¡°They are biting!¡± James added. ¡°Fight or run?¡± Myles asked the important question. ¡°Cause I could go for some running! I could jog, is what I¡¯m saying!¡± Suddenly, the noise of explosive splatters was everywhere, filling the silent shelves with wet sounds. ¡°I don¡¯t think we can outrun that many.¡± James said grimly. ¡°They squish.¡± Arrush said helpfully as he slid one of the creatures off the knife he¡¯d plunged into it when it tried to plunge dripping teeth into his eyes. The next minute became a sudden and frantic series of moments as more and more of the things joined their fellows in the air around the team. James got a better look at a few of them, and regretted it intently. Their core was a sticky blob that defaulted to an ink-shot orb of an eyeball, but whatever it was made of had no problem flexing into wide batlike wings that flapped in gusts to keep them moving. And, as he noticed when one grabbed the armguard of his gear after being deflected by a block, they did have something like a single claw to perch on. Except it wasn¡¯t a claw. It was a perfectly normal human hand. This one belonging to someone dark skinned who had built up a lot of calluses, a hand that had seen a lot of hard work. James had put his fist through the eyeball part with a snarl, regretting it slightly as the fluid clung to him even as the rest of the creature collapsed into an oozing puddle. The others were moving closer to him, the flow of battle tipping in their favor as they covered each other, and repeatedly pulled the trick of Frequency stopping one at perfect striking range. Then Myles had to go and be observant. ¡°They¡¯re trying to eat the other cocoon!¡± He announced, drawing attention to where ten or twenty of the eyebats were descending on the larger drooping shape. Sucking in a breath, James shared a glance with Arrush, the ratroach looking to him for direction right away. ¡°You know what? I don¡¯t feel like letting them have what they want.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s deal with that.¡± Next to him, Simon nodded once and fell in with James and Arrush as they rushed the small flock that were tearing into the outer layer of the far more stable cocoon with their split forms. Pulling on one of his manipulate asphalt charges as his boot squelched into the floor, James formed the small piece of the material he was carrying on himself into a spike, and killed two of the bats as they approached. Which mostly failed to get their attention, as they didn¡¯t react as a group until Arrush got closer, at which point they fluttered upward into a spiraling mass that tried to envelop the ratroach. It didn¡¯t work. With Simon and James still hitting them, and Arrush¡¯s knives skewering any that tried to land on him, half the bats were dead within a minute, and the other half made the oddly intelligent decision to leave. They did so in a sudden explosion of motion, driving past James and Simon in their toothless forms, wings slapping against armor and exposed faces as they did so. James heard Simon let out a grunt as he tumbled backward, and then suddenly, it was quiet around them again. ¡°So!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said as she approached the group with Myles, rotating one of her mechanical arms in a motor test to make sure it wasn¡¯t broken. ¡°Should we wait around for that one to explode too?¡± James looked at the big cocoon, then back to Simon who was lying in the floor where he¡¯d been knocked into one of the marshy parts. He offered the armored man a hand up, though Simon took a couple tries to catch James¡¯ hand, moving like he was distracted. ¡°I think we maybe don¡¯t want to see what comes out of it right now.¡± James said. ¡°Anyone hurt?¡± ¡°My pride.¡± Simon said, wincing at the wet sucking sound of his ass being hauled out of the damp paper that looked like the rest of the floor. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°I¡¯ve got holes in my armor.¡± Myles didn¡¯t sound happy about how easily the things had bitten through the Order¡¯s gear, though James felt like if the armor had holes and not the person, they were doing something right. ¡°Also¡­ hm.¡± He knelt next to where Simon had fallen and slung his backpack off. ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Frequency said. ¡°I am invincible.¡± Arrush shook his head at her, drops of blue saliva glowing brightly in the dim forest of shelves. ¡°Don¡¯t say that. They don¡¯t like that. But I am also fine.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s grab the yellows these things dropped and¡­ Myles, what are you doing?¡± He paused as the rogue settled the blade of a folding shovel against the floor, and kicked it down with a gritty shunk. ¡°I saw something when you pulled Simon up.¡± Myles said, glaring at the floor as the material he shoveled away filled back in quickly. ¡°Help me here. There¡¯s absolutely something down there.¡± With Simon and Arrush standing watch, Sunny glaring the ground into immobility, and James reaching down into the hole before it refilled itself, it didn¡¯t take long to find what Myles had spotted. Maybe a foot or two under the floor, a golf ball sized purple orb waited for them. James plucked it out and held it up, looking at the others with a wide grin. ¡°You think I can get a sibling out of this one?¡± Zhu asked curiously. ¡°I¡¯d be okay with a younger brother. I can be the wise sage that guides them to greatness or something.¡± ¡°Actually, Alanna¡¯s pushing me to get an authority.¡± James told his friend with a shake of his head. ¡°Also you absolutely would not do that.¡± ¡°No, I would not.¡± Zhu readily agreed. ¡°I¡¯d make him a proper terror, which is what you¡¯d deserve, but also think would be hilarious.¡± ¡°Stop knowing me too well.¡± James laughed. Myles interrupted them, holding up his shovel. ¡°Uh¡­ sorry, I don¡¯t want to interrupt your moment, but now that Simon has literally fallen ass backward into success, do we want to backtrack and see if the other spots have these too? And get away from the terrifying throbbing cocoon thing?¡± James looked at the long and glistening paper mache mass, small divots in it where the bats had gotten their fill. Part of him wanted to see what would come out of it, and if it would be a potential friend. But his shoulder hurt where he¡¯d overextended it on a hit, and he was breathing a little heavily, so maybe discretion was best for now. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s get at least a hundred feet away before we start digging more, though.¡± _____ Amelia took the offered paper plate of food from Keeka without protest. She had gotten familiar with the way the people of the Order of Endless Rooms kept trying to make her ¡®eat properly¡¯, and so tamped down her annoyance at being interrupted. It was also easy enough to not become annoyed when she had an opportunity to look at the normally reclusive species up close. Though Keeka was hardly a standard member of his kind anymore, which was disappointing. But he was at least a polite creature toward her, in sharp contrast to James and his closer circle who treated her like she was a peer. It stung a little more to realize that it was charity on their part to do so. She wasn¡¯t their equal. She was, no matter how you sliced it, their prisoner. It just so happened that she liked the gilded cage well enough to stay in it. ¡°You have to actually eat it.¡± Keeka told her as he passed by again, nervously pacing the campsite and helping Anesh with repacking to move again. Amelia looked down at her plate and sighed. It wasn¡¯t even unpalatable, which was all the more insulting. She should never have gotten used to relying on that stash of old potion she had found in her forties that replaced her need for most nutrition. She had rather been banking on dying before it ran out, and look where that got her. Needing to get used to eating solid food again. Following the ratroach¡¯s directive, she stabbed a chunk of fruit with her plastic fork and resumed trying to watch the Researchers disassemble a book. ¡°Cut here.¡± The newer man, Peng, said. He spoke like someone who had learned most of his English from the same person, and that person hadn¡¯t really known how to speak English, and then he¡¯d filled in the gaps himself. Which was exactly how Amelia had felt herself when she¡¯d purchased a knowledge orb for French. ¡°No, Juan, here. On the¡­ on the line. Please.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Juan pressed down with the entirely mundane box cutter he was wielding, as the two tried to peel off a single sheet of paper from the paperback. The table and the tarp on it already contained the dead creature¡¯s removed teeth, tongue, and two things that were some form of organ. As the young Cuban man pulled back with the stained sheet in hand, the two of them peered closer at the edge, Amelia watching closely from her seat. ¡°Look here.¡± Peng said as he traced a gloved finger through the air near the edge. ¡°We would need a microscope to see properly, but look. These lines, these are not ink, they are something else.¡± Juan clicked his tongue, the idiotic pencils around his head snapping to attention as he did. ¡°Veins, maybe? Or a muscle analog?¡± ¡°I would guess the latter. Slice here, let us see.¡± Another thin cut was made, and no ink bubbled up. ¡°Likely not blood vessels then. Ink vessels. Ah, see here, with light shining through, we can see them tracing to the tips of the page.¡± ¡°Explains why they can bite so damn hard.¡± Juan pulled back his hand and almost smeared ink on his hip as he reflexively went to rub an old injury. ¡°But¡­ why?¡± ¡°Why what?¡± Their newest Researcher asked. ¡°Why have muscles at all? Why not just¡­ magic?¡± ¡°Hm.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind, currently rotated off watch duty with the delve team that had stayed with the camp, commented from nearby. ¡°Why can I eat?¡± The snake asked. ¡°Hm?¡± Juan looked over at her, like it was normal for him to ask clarifying questions to a giant artificial snake. ¡°Because food is how¡­ oh, no, I see what you mean.¡± ¡°None of the documentation in the Order¡¯s servers actually says much about camraconda biology.¡± Peng added. ¡°You have something like a digestive system. Though that does raise the same question, doesn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Why not just do it with magic?¡± Juan asked. ¡°Okay. Well, working backward, we can see a repeated pattern in a lot of dungeon life where they have more¡­ organics?¡­ than they probably need to. Even stapler crabs have a miniature biomass engine thing and extra ¡®jaw muscles¡¯.¡± He pulled his gloves off so he could run a hand across his short beard. ¡°Is it as simple as just saying it¡¯s less of a cost?¡± ¡°It could be a mimicry attempt. Dungeons trying to copy ecosystems?¡± Peng suggested. Spire-Cast-Behind slithered closer, shaking her bulky head. ¡°No, I have seen Earth ecosystems now. There are loops within dungeons, but they are¡­ accidents, I believe. Or only one part is ever intentional.¡± ¡°To be fair, a lot of Earth is like that too.¡± Juan sighed. ¡°So maybe the reason for why you can eat, Spire, is that if you eat, the dungeon doesn¡¯t have to do it for you.¡± ¡°Mmh. And then the yellow orbs being ¡®food¡¯ for my kind is a secondary interaction that led to an ecosystem?¡± The camraconda mused. ¡°So you believe the books have muscles, so that less ¡®magic¡¯ is needed as a resource to move them.¡± Peng sighed and held up one of the teeth to the lamp they were using. It was a bitterly sharp thing, with a slight channel in it for some kind of venom. ¡°We know nothing of how the dungeons think or build.¡± He said, his accent coming through strong. ¡°But it does not make sense to me, to think that building this fine network of false organic motors would be less of a burden than¡­ anything. Anything else. This is beyond anything humanity can do at the moment. And it is used as cannon fodder.¡± He looked down sadly at the dead book. Amelia glanced toward the center of the camp, where Pendragon sat napping. Maybe, she thought, not quite so far distant from what humans could do. Silently excusing herself from the conversation, Amelia finished what was left on her plate, and rose simply so she could feel herself move. She felt restless, even here in the depths of this place. By no means was she an idle person, but the amount of walking and cautious near-battle it took to make it just five miles into the dungeon had consumed a whole day and quite a lot of energy. And even still, she needed to walk. To do something. There was nothing here for her to do, though. No work to distract her. Nothing to focus on at all, except to worry over her own inadequacy. Amelia found herself trailing her hand across one of the bookshelves that surrounded their camp. Ignoring the irate cawing of the crow over where she walked, she stepped gently around, thumbing across book after book, nonsense titles filling her vision. The Walls Of Oswald. Big Chair. Are These Things. The old alchemist paused as she tilted her head to read one, and then muttered to herself. ¡°What mad logic is it that led this place to name a text ¡®Baby Things¡¯.¡± Her eyes flickered to the others, farther away from her now in where her walking was taking her, leaving her alone enough to grumble out loud without anyone thinking she¡¯s talking to them. ¡°Logic. Pah. There¡¯s none of that here. How do they not see it? At least the Lyle boy knows this place is no real library.¡± She glared at the next shelf. It was offset by a half an inch; poking out just a tiny bit from the other, in a way that would mark a real place as being just a little bit patchwork. The kind of thing that showed up when you were working with what you had, or what you could get at a thrift store. Amelia hadn¡¯t known that feeling for decades; not since she¡¯d started selling magic to Hollywood actors and clocked a net worth of over ten million. But here, the shelves being offset meant nothing. It was¡­ noise. Static. Geographical error codes. And everyone else, all these people who were supposed to be professionals, who had done this before, looked at it as if it were normal. They had answers for things, and even if those answers were guesses they were still guesses that felt weighty. ¡°Why do they know anything about you?¡± Amelia whispered as she pushed a wrinkled hand forward and sunk a nail into the side of the shelf. It wasn¡¯t even real lacquer, it was wood that mimicked the look, and it was like that all the way down. God, it might not even be wood at all. ¡°They are changing.¡± A voice sent a spike of adrenaline into Amelia¡¯s heart. Old stockpiles of forgotten potions have made her internal organs resilient beyond human baseline, but that doesn¡¯t mean she doesn¡¯t worry briefly about a heart attack as Camille spoke up. ¡°Good God, girl, don¡¯t sneak up on your elders!¡± She snapped at the armored worman, who was, notably, sitting in front of her. Cam looks confused, but took the rebuke as if it is gospel. ¡°I am sorry.¡± She said, looking as if she was torn between keeping a watch on the back half of the camp in case anything climbed over the shelves, or staring at the floor in shame. Amelia noticed the odd behavior, and shook her head with a small huff. ¡°Well. No harm came of it. What did you say? Were you answering me?¡± ¡°Yes. They are changing somehow. I don¡¯t know how, yet, and I don¡¯t know why. But the Chain Breaker saw it in James and TQ. She said¡­ she said they were something new.¡± Camille answered like she had been ordered to dispense information by a superior office, only faltering as it occurred to her that maybe Amelia wasn¡¯t someone who was supposed to have open access. The alchemist sighed and looked around for something to sit on. Cam wasn¡¯t even sitting, she was standing at attention in her armor. The girl probably didn¡¯t ever rest, did she? There was a plush armchair nearby, and Amelia glared at it as if she could kill it with her mind, which so far, alchemy had not given her the ability to do. ¡°I know they¡¯re changing.¡± She told Camille. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± There was a long silence as she waited for the girl in plate mail to say anything, but no reply came. ¡°You seem to know something about what¡¯s happening. If you tell me, it will save us time in this uncomfortable conversation.¡± That, at least, Cam could appreciate. And asked a direct question, she responded quickly. ¡°My sisters and I, we are pushed to fight. Often.¡± She still didn¡¯t meet Amelia¡¯s eyes, though her gaze did flick to the woman¡¯s face. ¡°The ones that live longest are the ones who develop¡­ an instinct.¡± ¡°For what?¡± ¡°For combat. For survival. No, that¡¯s not right.¡± Cam pulled her hand off the pommel of the mace at her side and clenched it into a fist, slowly unfurling the fingers. ¡°It¡¯s not for anything. It just is. They become better. That¡¯s all. If we survive, we learn to keep surviving, without knowing quite how.¡± Amelia surprised Camille by simply nodding, and not giving her the horrified look that everyone else at the Order did when she said things like that. ¡°Ah, confirmation bias.¡± She said. ¡°You lived, so you must have lived for a reason.¡± ¡°No, you don¡¯t¡­ understand.¡± Camille shook her head, now looking more closely at Amelia. ¡°Something changes. You can¡¯t go back, once you have it. And having it doesn¡¯t make you invincible.¡± Amelia barely caught the whispered words afterward. ¡°Nothing makes you invincible.¡± Still, she nodded like she was following. Because that thing, that intangible X factor Camille was talking about¡­ that was what Amelia was here for. She wanted it. More than she¡¯d ever wanted anything. She wanted to be able to look at three things in a blender and pick out which one would make the potion kill a human. She wanted to be able to walk through the grocery store and let a stray thought push her to bring a bag of apples back to the lab that would start them down the path of refining the dream draught. She wanted to be better dammit. And now here was a girl who knew what she meant. So Amelia asked the question she had wanted an answer to since setting foot here and being confused by every strange choice the dungeon ¡®made¡¯. ¡°How do I get it?¡± She spoke aloud. Camille gave her a look that was part exhaustion, part fear, and part pity, and even as distant and closed off as Amelia was she couldn¡¯t help but clearly feel every part of that stare as their eyes met. ¡°You almost die.¡± Cam said, her voice cracking. ¡°And then you don¡¯t. And then you do it again, until you have it.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± Amelia let go of the protruding edge of the shelf she was holding onto. And then she dismissed the idea that Camille¡¯s way was the only way. ¡°That sounds ineffective. If the¡­ I¡¯m sorry, did you say ¡®Chain Breaker¡¯?¡­ well, if that thinks the others are changing, it can¡¯t be that. None of them have died in here. So there must be another way. Perhaps when we get deeper I will see.¡± ¡°Perhaps.¡± The small fire left Cam¡¯s eyes, as she turned back to keeping watch. ¡°Please stay safe. I am not as fast as James thinks I am.¡± Amelia wandered on, scanning book titles looking for a pattern that she knew wasn¡¯t there. _____ Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual (Ceaseless Stacks, Section TBD) Ink Slimes First encounters with ink slimes occurred well over three miles into the dungeon, but in contrast to the depth of their appearance, the creatures appear to be docile. Not harmless, but not malicious either. The average ink slime is two feet in diameter, and defaults to a pliant sphere shape. This means that they will usually end up looking like dark colored domes. Despite existing in a very dry environment, ink slimes stay moist seemingly indefinitely, and are noticeable because their glistening membrane is easy to spot even if it blends into shadows. Ink slimes are capable of exerting roughly five pounds of pressure by moving, though they cannot seem to change their shape in complex ways. They slowly convert dead matter they envelop into more ink. While this won¡¯t kill a delver, it can destroy equipment, and the OM items are especially vulnerable to being rendered inert within seconds of contact. If left uncontested, ink slimes will follow living delvers indefinitely and attempt to get as close to them as possible. Ink slimes form when large amounts of (name for the books that are mostly teeth) blood mixes with the blood of any other species, and is left to sit. This was discovered by accident with human blood, but was later tested with camraconda and ratroach blood and found to form identical ink slimes. The formation requires an additional component that is currently unknown, and does not always happen, or if it does, it doesn¡¯t happen right away. Ink slimes do not have a loot drop. (Investigation pending) Ink slimes are easy to disrupt, but take significant effort to actually kill. They don¡¯t have a core, their membrane reforms almost instantly, and if too much of one is scooped out, the removed portion simply becomes another ink slime. Pouring other liquids into them will stall them for longer than anything else, and blunt impacts that splatter their bodies can take significant time to reform. But the only way to actually stop one once it has formed and locked onto a delver is to separate it into pieces too small to be an ink slime and wait for all of them to dry out. _____ Alanna looked upward at the stack of books. It had stood out from the moment the team had caught sight of it, mostly because it was rising up from a landing that they¡¯d have to descend two staircases to get to, and it continued upward for potentially just as far. It was hard to tell exactly, since it interlaced with some of the weird iron bands that messed with perspective. The phrase ¡®stack of books¡¯ didn¡¯t really do it justice. It was a column the size of something built to hold up a courthouse. The books that made it up were so tightly crammed together, pressed down by their own weight, that it would be impossible to slip a single page in. Spines bearing nonsensical titles stuck out every few feet like almost intentional handholds, and small flicks of motion drew the eye where errant words waited to be collected. And in places, there were marks like someone had taken a line of knives to the whole structure, though not enough damage to destabilize it. There was a little empty nest of shredded paper and loose pencils maybe five feet overhead, hanging onto one of the protruding hardbacks at just the right spot to be visible from the angle the team was at. And Alanna could see something akin to it farther up, though much larger, if she understood the perspective correctly. ¡°I want to climb that.¡± She heard herself saying. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Smoke-And-Ember is answering her already by the time the words are out of her mouth. ¡°James was very clear that he would be displeased if you died.¡± ¡°First off, he¡¯s not the boss of me.¡± Alanna held up a finger. Ten feet away, looking down over the edge of the wooden railing to the landing below, Kirk pulled back and snorted at her. ¡°He¡¯s the boss of all of us.¡± ¡°First off part two,¡± Alanna continued undeterred, ¡°he¡¯s not the boss of us, second off to that first off, he¡¯s not the boss of me differently than he¡¯s not the boss of you all. Second of all to the first first of all, I think there¡¯s something up there, and our whole point here is to find stuff like that.¡± ¡°Oh. She¡¯s. Insane.¡± Harriet, the pale orange navigator hanging around Kirk¡¯s shoulders as a cloak of peacock feathers and an animal eye, commented with anxiety. Smoke-And-Ember spoke up while using long copper fangs to overturn a dictionary laying open on the hardwood floor. ¡°She¡¯s not insane, she¡¯s been drinking coffee.¡± The camraconda was silent for a short moment, and then added, ¡°Magical coffee. In case that needed to be made clear.¡± ¡°Coffee doesn¡¯t make humans insa¡­ coffee doesn¡¯t make me insane, Harriet, don¡¯t worry. Also I said I want to climb that. Not that I¡¯m going to.¡± Alanna folded her arms over the breastplate of her delver armor, feeling weirdly exposed with just the shell and Kevlar, and not the extra thirty pounds of ballistic plate. She stared upward, wondering what exactly nested in these places, before turning back to the others with a grin. ¡°No, I¡¯m gonna make Matt do it.¡± The human looked up from where he was pouring water into a dish for Rho. The inhabitor might not actually be a dog, but that didn¡¯t magically gift him with thumbs. And since the duo had been relentless in their quest to fight every book that moved funny in this place, Rho¡¯s muzzle was stained with inky blood, and while Matt might have been overly violent to be an actual knight of the Order, he was still a good enough guy to care that his battle partner wasn¡¯t running around tasting book all day. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± He roughly asked as he caught up to Alanna¡¯s words. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun, and also you¡¯re the best climber in the group.¡± Alanna said. ¡°Since Kirk¡¯s afraid of heights, and no one else has thumbs.¡± ¡°I could have thumbs.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said quietly, not really intending to be heard. Then, speaking up, said, ¡°If you fall, I will catch you.¡± Before anyone could work out how exactly the camraconda expected that to work, Kirk strode back over to them, tugging on the flashlight attached to his armor as Harriet flowed behind him. ¡°Harriet says something¡¯s choosing this as a destination. We shouldn¡¯t stick around.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Rho asked, the dead tone coming from the dog form still not something anyone was used to. ¡°We are an effective fireteam.¡± ¡°We are.¡± Alanna said. ¡°But we don¡¯t need to kill everything. But, we also don¡¯t need to leave. I will bet anyone my share of orbs from this whole trip that if Harriet can feel it, it¡¯s big enough and weird enough that it¡¯s probably whatever¡¯s nesting up there. So let¡¯s take some cover, double check that we¡¯ve got two exits, and hunker down to just¡­ see what shows up.¡± ¡°I like that plan.¡± Kirk nodded as he moved away from the railing and started looking for a hiding spot. The others agreed too, and the team started moving books out into piles that would offer some low cover around the edges of the shelves and in one case an ancient wooden filing cabinet that they were crouching behind. They uncovered a couple small moving shapes made out of living words while doing so, but as it turned out, while Alanna could recognize kanji, neither she nor anyone else could read it. Hunkering down was an odd experience. Yes, they were on a long expedition, and Alanna was going to have to get used to waiting while they were here. More than a few times already she¡¯d found herself getting bored sitting around the camp when she was supposed to be resting. But this was different. They were a team on a scouting excursion, and they were specifically waiting for something potentially dangerous to come by just so they could look at it, and until then, all there was to do was sit and look at the dungeon. Not that the dungeon wasn¡¯t absolutely worth looking at. The sweeping lines of wood and metal that made up the shelves and ceiling were just slightly inhuman enough that Alanna never actually got tired of seeing this sort of thing. And playing the game of ¡®where is that light coming from¡¯ was a decent distraction that could be valuable tactical information too if they needed it. The fact that light sources always seemed to be from around corners, with none of the lamps or torches ever lit, was weird. The fact that the light sources kind of went away if you ever rounded the corner to look at them was just annoying. They didn¡¯t have to wait long, thankfully. Rho prodded Alanna with a paw as the dog¡¯s finer hearing caught motion coming their way. Another rapid prod indicated a pretty bad scenario; the thing was approaching from the same way the team had gotten to this little open balcony, and their cover was facing the wrong way. A rapid series of hand motions and a pulse of intent from Smoke¡¯s authority sent the split group shuffling around to either reposition what side they were hiding from, or simply moving deeper into the stacks so they were out of sight entirely. And just in time, too. Because almost the instant Kirk and Smoke-And-Ember were gone, and Alanna pushed Rho back behind her, a thing stalked into view from around the corner of a shelf behind them. First glance almost made Alanna ask out loud what the fuck was going on. It was a lion. A big cat, prowling forward quietly, some kind of furred corpse hanging from its mouth and leaking dust into the air. But then as soon as she started focusing on it, it was obvious this was no normal animal. The thing¡¯s mane fluttered as it moved, and what Alanna had thought was fur turned out to be the corded ends of a thousand bookmarks. It was too pale, its pelt folding in patterns as it walked, flanks sometimes opening up like gills, and it was hard to tell if it was supposed to be made of paper, or if it was just capable of casually unfolding itself. When it passed by, it paused for a split second, and Alanna¡¯s breath caught in her throat. The thing was huge. There was something about seeing a creature that outmassed you four times over up close that made a person acutely aware of the fact that you were in danger, but while Alanna had fought dungeon monsters before, she¡¯d never fought one that looked so much like an Earth animal. Alanna knew about lions, she knew just how much damage a wild animal could do in the opening seconds of a fight, and she didn¡¯t really feel like testing this one. Then it kept moving, its shape thinning as it actually did compress so it could slip underneath the book display table. And then it leapt over the wooden railing, claws raking fresh lines down the stack of books as its rear legs scrambled to find purchase. The big cat rapidly found its momentum, and ascended the towering pillar in seconds, rising out of sight to perch up in the nest it had built for itself overseeing several floors of its domain. In its wake, one of its pale claws shredded the crow¡¯s nest on the way past. And among the sheared apart pencils and scraps of drifting paper that floated down, something small, shiny, and blue, bounced off the railing and rolled a foot toward where the team was hiding, coming to a stop perilously out in the open. ¡°Okay.¡± Alanna spoke in the softest voice she could. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t let me climb the book tower. I get that. But everyone form up and pull back, start making our exit path, and be ready to run. Because I am grabbing that blue orb.¡± _____ ¡°I am so fucking tired.¡± James said as he sat down on a sleeping bag, the cool material feeling good against his skin. They¡¯ve been active for almost sixteen hours. Searching, fighting, looting, witnessing new wonders, and then escorting everyone to the next staging point before they repeated the process again. James has been resting, of course, and the deep supply of exercise potion has been helping. He did wish he¡¯d rationed more water though, just so he could drown the flavor of the stuff after each swig. It really did taste like liquified deodorant. Mostly because it was. But rest and potions didn¡¯t account for mental exhaustion. And while James had long since gotten used to it, he did have to remember that his brain actually physically worked faster than most people¡¯s. That usually translated to more information processed, not actually ¡®faster thought¡¯. But it meant that when he spent an hour being alert, it felt like the strain of three hours. James got results. But it cost him. And now he got the reward for hard work; the ability to complain to his lovers and close his eyes. ¡°Aw, poor baby.¡± Alanna¡¯s sweaty arms wrapped around James shoulders and he didn¡¯t even have the energy to shake her off. ¡°I had to pull a dog out of quicksand carpet.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not special, Vad and TQ had to do that too.¡± Anesh said as he joined them, pulling off his boots and laying across James¡¯ lap before deciding that it was too warm down here for physical contact and rolling off onto the unoccupied part of the sleeping bag. ¡°Bloody hell, I¡¯m tired and I know I was doing less than both of you.¡± ¡°Hey, you did a scout!¡± James reassured his boyfriend. Anesh cracked an eye to look up at him. ¡°I spent twenty minutes filling in for one person. That¡¯s nothing by our standards. I¡¯m losing my touch.¡± ¡°You have two masters degrees in mathematics, your touch isn¡¯t supposed to be as a delver.¡± James laughed. And then, when he saw Anesh¡¯s uncomfortable look, quickly tried to backtrack. ¡°Not that you aren¡¯t good at it. But seriously, we brought people to use people. The whole point is that we can all do a little, and not be too exhausted.¡± ¡°And yet, here you are.¡± Anesh motioned at James and Alanna. Their armor piled nearby, their eyes already falling shut after a quick meal. They barely had time to talk to anyone else. Around them, the new camp was winding down, but there was an excited energy in the air. Others talked in quiet voices, sharing experiences from the day, eagerly looking forward to seeing what the new orbs did once they could be copied or found in greater volume, or just discussing their newest campsite. A pair of camracondas dragged their own sleeping bags to form an improvised nest underneath the stairs the expedition had taken to get down here. Keeka and Arrush sat near a camp lantern leaning against a napping Pendragon, staring into each other¡¯s eyes like it was the end of the world. Camille weathered a barrage of personal questions from a golden retriever with no sense of boundaries. Tired delvers chased potion doses with relieved sighs and food that mostly banished the horrible taste. And on the other side of the safety line that they¡¯d drawn, the door waited for them. It had been random chance that Vad¡¯s team had chosen to go down just one more level before coming back to the last staging point. And what they¡¯d found had been - in addition to a hard fight with a storyteller - something different. Stone floors, but not the kind of old marble of the rest of the Ceaseless Stacks. And stone walls, too. Smoothed out bricks and tiles that made up the whole place, a kind of sunken cave that seamlessly replaced the normal sights of books and stacks and papers. The floor here had newspapers and magazines scattered across it like fallen leaves, and unlit chandeliers hung overhead far closer than anywhere else. And at the far end of it, a door. Despite having recently had a bad experience with huge doors, James loved it. It was a tall rectangle with a clear seam down the middle and an arched top. All across the pale stone that was lit only by the electric lights the Order had brought with them, there were markings. Lines of empty squares, occasionally adorned with a single small icon in the corner. The lines intersected each other repeatedly, making a maze of an obvious puzzle. TQ had been delighted that the dungeon had just handed him a crossword puzzle. Even if the clues carved into the rock around the door weren¡¯t in common languages and might take some work. ¡°Maybe we take it easy tomorrow.¡± James said, dozing off while still sitting up. ¡°Mmhph.¡± Alanna agreed, already sleeping on top of James¡¯ sleeping bag. Anesh gave his boyfriend a small kiss on his cheek, ignoring the prickle from where James hadn¡¯t shaved in a couple days. ¡°Maybe you take it easy now, and I¡¯ll got make sure our guard rotation is in order.¡± ¡°I love you.¡± James heard himself say, as if from a great distance. Alanna tiredly echoing his thought as she threw one arm into the air next to him, already mostly asleep. ¡°Love you too. Go to bed. If you¡¯re lucky then the research team won¡¯t sleep tonight and the door will be open before you wake up.¡± Anesh failed to mention that he was also fascinated in the door¡¯s puzzle lock, and might be stealing time with it between keeping watch and doing an inventory check. James was already out though. So Anesh just smiled at his lovers and stood up gently, planning to make himself useful before more distractions made themselves known. Chapter 255 ¡°The building was on fire, and it wasn¡¯t my fault.¡± -Harry Dresden, Blood Rites- _____ James was eating lunch with Prince, the mimic golden retriever having scared off his counterpart dog by being too social, when Anesh rushed up to him. ¡°James! James James, James.¡± Out of breath, Anesh settled a hand on James¡¯ shoulder, leaning into him with enough weight that James felt it, but not so much it could topple him from the beanbag chair someone had made the brilliant choice to bring back to their camp. They were still by the big door, two days later. James was taking the day off; his whole team was, actually. Each team was required to take at least one full day of resting, just to be completely safe, and today was his turn. It wasn¡¯t bad. He thought he might have gotten bored, but a break from running around fighting books wasn¡¯t a break from being excited by the dungeon. He¡¯d spent a while familiarizing himself with the translated crossword clues next to the Big Spooky Door, and then another chunk of his day talking with TQ about video games. It was pretty pleasant, even if he was starting to feel like he should be doing something productive. Anesh was still staring at him, so James decided to stop waiting for his boyfriend to just tell him what was up. Zhu beat him to the punch though, the navigator turning a heavy eye on Anesh with an orange flutter. ¡°Is the big spooky door open?¡± He asked. ¡°I should feel guilty about being excited over a big spooky door, but I¡¯m not. Did you open it?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot, big spooky doors are cool and you know it.¡± James chastised the navigator. ¡°Yeah, James, you dumbass. I do. That¡¯s the problem.¡± Zhu shot back. Anesh shook James firmly enough that it threatened his lunch. ¡°Both of you knobs shut up. Look at this.¡± He held up one of the yellow orbs they¡¯d been collecting. The things were just so wondrous to James. Yeah, he¡¯d seen thousands of yellow orbs by this point in his life, which¡­ actually was kind of worrying. He¡¯d promised Anesh, years ago, that they weren¡¯t going to be the kind of murder hobos that killed everything in their path for the loot. But somewhere along the way, he¡¯d still ended up getting in a lot of fights across the two dungeons that dropped the things. And yet, still, it was a little bead of magic. A tiny drop of solid luminescent gold that sat in Anesh¡¯s palm and reminded James that no matter how dumb some of the skills they handed out were, all of this had started with him learning about phone books. Then the little drop of glowing yellow slipped into Anesh¡¯s hand. ¡°Wait, what?¡± Prince spoke up, the dog¡¯s eyes snapping onto the display. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ that¡¯s familiar.¡± James added. Anesh nodded excitedly, his short dark hair catching the light of one of their camp lanterns as he did so. ¡°It is isn¡¯t it?¡± He held out his hand overhead, staring at the back of it with a grin. ¡°You know, the Officium Mundi yellows always pick one of the same two adjectives for the kind of energy they give you? Comfortable or efficient. This one went with learning, which is kind of the wrong linguistic format.¡± ¡°Orb language is sometimes weird. I think it¡¯s because it¡¯s filtering information through English, not that it¡¯s using English as its native language.¡± James answered almost instantly, before holding up a hand to his forehead. ¡°Wait, hang on. This also gives you uptime, like, the same as the others? That¡¯s so fucking weird. Wait.¡± ¡°Wait what?¡± Prince demands, the dog standing across from James and Anesh, tail almost pointing straight out behind him, back arched. James had to hold in a laugh. He held off on asking Prince why someone who was a mimic pretending to be a dog had so many dog-specific mannerisms. But then, maybe that was the point, and it showed that Prince was a pretty good mimic. ¡°Okay, how much of the operations manual did you read?¡± James asked. ¡°I¡¯m a dog.¡± Prince replied. ¡°Fuck off.¡± Zhu sighed in exasperation. James felt like that was a little rude, but he¡¯d been thinking it too. Then he decided to double down on his friend¡¯s comment. ¡°You fucking are not. Stop that. You¡¯re worse than goddam Ben, and that¡¯s saying something.¡± James flicked his eyes up to look at the ceiling of the cave, taking a second to compose himself. ¡°Okay. Officium Mundi has almost identical orb colors to the things we¡¯ve found here, and they even play similarly in terms of powers. But, every one of the orbs there comes from a different source-¡° ¡°Like the ones here.¡± Zhu spoke up. ¡°-and also has at least two different uses. Sometimes as many as four.¡± James finished. ¡°Now. The orbs here are different, since greens at least don¡¯t modify places, but give a different kind of ¡®skill rank¡¯. The others might be the same, and we really should test a blue and purple since we have them¡­¡± Anesh leaned on James as his partner said that. ¡°We¡¯ve got some set aside for you. I know we want to save as many as possible for the copier, and we don¡¯t have many blues, but¡­¡± ¡°But there¡¯s value to knowing up front, yeah. And it¡¯s past the point where knowing is more important than perfect efficiency.¡± James nodded. ¡°Bring me two in a second. Anyway. Yellows have two other known uses. Absorbing them to ¡®sustain¡¯ yourself for an amount of time - and yeah, if you¡¯re curious, they can keep you alive through injuries that should kill you, if you take them after getting hurt - and the other thing they can do is make life.¡± If Prince was shaken by James casually telling him they had a way to keep people alive past the point organic bodies failed at, he was utterly demolished by the revelation that the Order casually knew how to make new life out of¡­ ¡°Make life out of what?¡± The dog demanded. ¡°Why did you wait until now to tell me this?!¡± ¡°You¡¯ve literally been hanging out with PenDave this whole time.¡± James pointed at the dragon that was casually chewing on a half-eaten dictionary of fake words. ¡°What.¡± ¡°Yeah. Also read the fucking manual, I put a lot of work into that. So anyway, now I kinda want to know¡­¡± James pulled a handful of yellow orbs out of the pocket of the sweatpants he had on and looked at them curiously. Anesh pulled back, giving his boyfriend a tilted look. ¡°Why do you just have a handful of orbs, and also, please don¡¯t make another companion. Our apartment is already so full.¡± ¡°Honestly, we should just move to the Lair.¡± James sighed. ¡°Okay. So, I need to¡­¡± without thinking about it, he went to shove the pile of orbs into his pocket, and smashed about half of them into glittering dust that quickly faded from reality. [+1 Species Rank : Sturgeon - Chinese Paddlefish] [+1 Species Rank : Bat - Fruit - Mariana] [+1 Species Rank : Sauropoda - Diplodocidae - Apatosaurus] [+1 Species Rank : Moth - Eastern American - Luna] [+1 Species Rank : Frog] ¡°You okay?¡± Anesh asked as James rubbed at his forehead in frustration. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m just kind of a fucking idiot today and I forgot how fragile these things can be.¡± James grumbled. As he moved to more gently put them into his pocket, one of the smaller beads slipped from his grip, and Zhu moved to snag it out of the air. Which just led to another puff of golden glitter dust, and James¡¯ annoyance turning to amusement as he met Zhu¡¯s eye. ¡°Get anything good?¡± ¡°I will soon become the master of the giraffe.¡± Zhu announced. ¡°Actually, do you think we could ride a giraffe? I hadn¡¯t thought of it before. Wait, horses.¡± The orange feathers across James¡¯ side spread outward like Zhu was having the revelation of a lifetime. ¡°You know what? You take these.¡± James handed Anesh the rest of the orbs. Gently. ¡°I¡¯m gonna ask that if we do see if these can bring things to life, we wait until we¡¯re out of here to try it. Tell Dave that I said that.¡± He added sternly as Anesh headed off to exchange the orbs for new ones at their loot carts. ¡°We can¡¯t keep collecting dragons.¡± Zhu traced a talon along the back of James¡¯ hand. ¡°Why not?¡± He asked with a hum like tires on smooth asphalt. ¡°You collect survivors and engineers and whatever Response is. Oh, and camracondas. Actually you collect people who want to sleep with you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°Pretty impressive.¡± Prince jumped in. ¡°I would have thought you¡¯d be too caught up in all this to have any kind of game.¡± James stared at the golden retriever, and suddenly had a feeling like he was wasting his banter on Prince. Like the mimic was just a bit a jerk, but not in a way that clicked with James, that was fun. ¡°Why are you here?¡± He asked the mimic suddenly. ¡°Also, weren¡¯t you the nice one? I thought Ruby was the asshole. Wait, I¡¯ve lost track, which FBI agent were you pretending to be?¡± Prince huffed, and settled his long snout on folded paws, laying back down like he wasn¡¯t concerned about the questioning. ¡°Who knows.¡± He muttered. ¡°The names are kinda new, for the kids, you know?¡± The mimic let out another huff of air. ¡°So I could be anyone.¡± ¡°I kinda feel like you probably know which one you are.¡± James said with a disbelieving frown. ¡°I kinda do. But eh, it¡¯s¡­ easier to be interchangeable sometimes. I don¡¯t know if humans know what that feels like. There¡¯s something relaxing about being replaceable. So right now, I¡¯m not the favorite, so that if I die in this stupid place that isn¡¯t making me stronger by the way, then the kids aren¡¯t sad.¡± Zhu¡¯s hand tensed against the back of James¡¯ arm, a subconscious move that actually made him wonder just how much of an infomorph¡¯s manifested actions were deliberate since they were creatures of thought. But he just spread his own fingers so he could interlace them with Zhu¡¯s in a comforting grasp while he answered Prince. ¡°Honestly, I kinda get it. Maybe not the way you mean, but you seem really put together for someone who talks about humans like we¡¯re totally foreign. But yeah, there¡¯s less pressure when you¡¯re not singularly important.¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± Prince - well, maybe Prince - replied. ¡°Probably not great that you¡¯re thinking of yourself as ¡®not the favorite¡¯ though.¡± Prince gave a very uncanine grin to James. ¡°See, that¡¯s the thing. I could be either.¡± ¡°¡­this is why you¡¯re not my favorite.¡± James said bluntly. ¡°So, we¡¯re not moving fast enough in here for you?¡± He asked, deciding to steer away from the personal and toward the professional. While James had plenty of questions about the mimics and their human partners, and he actually was curious about whether Ruby and Prince were swapping places, right now he just didn¡¯t feel like this conversation was going to get him an honest personal story about how Prince had met his human friends. The mimic dog obliged his attempt to steer the conversation. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong. I know that everything is useful for something. But I¡¯m having a hard time figuring out how a single point in six different obscure fish and an equal number of more obscure bugs is supposed to make me stronger.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been using more orbs than me.¡± James commented idly, not meaning anything by it. ¡°Uh¡­ I¡­¡± ¡°Chill. Everyone¡¯s allowed to use some, it¡¯s fine.¡± James reassured him. ¡°The reason we¡¯re saving as many as we are is so that we can make a single copy of all of them with a different magic, and then see if any are powerful enough to keep copying.¡± He shrugged. ¡°We should have tested the purples and blues when we got them, honestly. But we got distracted by the door, and the slimes. And then they were packed away, so¡­ you know how it goes.¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t.¡± Prince scoffed. Zhu rustled his orange light feathers. ¡°You¡¯ll learn.¡± The navigator said. ¡°Or leave. That¡¯s how it seems to go.¡± ¡°Grim but fair.¡± James nodded. ¡°Anyway! We¡¯re not looking for personal strength, though you¡¯ll get some of that, especially as part of you and Ruby¡¯s payout for helping for the other delves. But we¡¯re starting with the Library because it¡¯s a learning amplifier, which is good, and also because we¡¯re looking for community strength.¡± James waved a hand around at the rest of the camp. ¡°We¡¯re looking to improve at this, at this kind of teamwork, but also we¡¯re looking for magic that scales up. Stuff we can take back to the Order and say ¡®here, go nuts¡¯ and then have Karen do something that turns a weird book into a million dollars.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just trying to get rich?¡± Prince sounded incredulous. ¡°You? Really?¡± ¡°No, I was using dollars as a value measure.¡± James said, before letting out an oof as Anesh clapped a hand on his shoulder and startled him. Zhu didn¡¯t react, but Zhu was almost literally an eye in James¡¯ back. ¡°Hey cutie.¡± He said. Anesh blushed, though his darker skin made it hard to tell in the shadows of their camp. ¡°Never going to get used to that, am I?¡± He laughed. ¡°Here. Two orbs. Though I feel obliged to tell you that both Juan and Amelia have tried the purple orbs, so we do know what they do, but I wasn¡¯t sure if you¡¯d want to be left out or not. They say it was an accident, but I¡¯m unconvinced for at least her. Also Keeka says hi.¡± ¡°He does not, he wouldn¡¯t have time.¡± James laughed softly, glancing behind him as if he¡¯d be able to see Keeka and Arrush cuddled up together where they were lurking on the other side of Pendragon¡¯s bulk. James had told Vadik when they came in here that Pendragon was smaller than she normally was, and that was technically true. But she was still - and he didn¡¯t know why his brain couldn¡¯t think of anything large that wasn¡¯t a vehicle - minivan sized. She could still seat four people, and had a wingspan that could shield half their camp if she stretched out. The dragon made for a good centerpiece, the way the electric camp lamps made her laminated hide shine was comforting. ¡°You didn¡¯t really answer my question.¡± Prince grumbled. Anesh glanced at the dog before looking down at James again. ¡°Is he complaining about how there¡¯s no health potions?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± James and Zhu said together. Then James continued over Prince¡¯s barked protest, ¡°Well, no. But close enough. It¡¯s that we aren¡¯t leveling up.¡± ¡°Oh. That.¡± Anesh met the mimic¡¯s eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not complicated. A lot of dungeons give us small magics, but sometimes, they don¡¯t. We¡¯re here looking for the one ¡®don¡¯t¡¯. Maybe something that reshapes a building in a second, or makes a knight invincible, or annihilates the concept of the number four. Something like that. Now, James, eat your orbs and see if those happen, even though I know one won¡¯t.¡± James paused. ¡°Hold up.¡± He said, the pair of colored beads sitting in his open hand. ¡°What was that last one? Did that happen? Did-¡° he was cut off as Zhu closed his own hand around James¡¯, softly forcing his fingers into a fist, and popping both orbs without fanfare. [+1 Flora Rank : Swedish Ivy] [+1 Tool Rank : Excavator - Auger - Model 70 PHD 3 Point Digger] ¡°Wait, Zhu, no!¡± James experienced a flash of actual annoyance. ¡°Which is which? I actually needed to do those one at a time!¡± The navigator squawked an apology, feathers flattening out as he drooped against James. Anesh tapped his knuckles lightly on James¡¯ skull. ¡°Hey. Calm down. The purple one gives tool ranks. Irritatingly specific ones, from what I¡¯ve been told. So, the other one¡­?¡± ¡°Flora rank.¡± James said, calming down. ¡°No problem solving like the OM blues. Huh. I¡¯m not gonna lie, I was expecting more of a parallel.¡± He grimaced. ¡°Sorry Zhu.¡± ¡°I am sorry too. I will think next time before committing antics.¡± ¡°Hell, I should probably do that too.¡± James sighed. ¡°So I guess we know where you got it from. Still, that¡¯s kinda huge. If tool ranks do the same thing, that¡¯s¡­ I wonder how broad of an effect that is?¡± His mind started racing with all the things that a multiplicative bonus could add to if you were just magically improved at ¡®using a shovel¡¯. Then another thought impacted James¡¯ brain. ¡°Oh hey! Momo¡¯s gonna be annoyed to learn that I was right! It is flora ranks! Animal, vegetable, mineral! I¡¯m so fucking smart.¡± ¡°And do either of these give you the strength to fight shadowy child kidnapping organizations?¡± Prince asked in a now overtly hostile tone. James shook his head as he stood up and stretched. There were so many things he could snap back with in response. ¡°Who knows?¡± He settled on. ¡°You¡¯re a dog, so maybe magic works differently for you. Anyway, your teammates look like they¡¯re waiting for you, so get moving.¡± He shrugged off whatever Prince said in response, and took smug satisfaction in Zhu¡¯s shaking giggle on his skin as they left to go see about breaking into the big spooky door. _____ Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual (Ceaseless Stacks, Section TBD) Letter Station Similar to Officium Mundi¡¯s wi-figments, letter stations are signal interference inside of the Ceaseless Stacks. It is unclear if they are focused on a point in space, but they are known to migrate across radio bands, and drown out all other signals on the frequency they are using in any given moment. Letter stations talk continually, and each one has its own voice. Voices appear to sound human, but this might just be anthropocentrism at work. The stations speak constantly, don¡¯t pause for breath, and only ever recite letters from the NATO phonetic alphabet. The letters do not form words in a coherent way, and may be code. As far as can be determined, there isn¡¯t a good way to kill or drive off a letter station. But they also aren¡¯t harmful, except that they are attracted to use of radio frequencies, and will constantly migrate to whichever channels delver groups are using for communications. Developing procedure is to swap frequencies at regular intervals, and always have a backup planned so as to not be caught off guard. _____ ¡°More stairs.¡± Vad said, leaning around a shelf. ¡°That¡¯s the fourth staircase that isn¡¯t part of a more open landing that we¡¯ve seen today.¡± ¡°Mm. Unpleasant.¡± Spire replied, the camraconda leaning around the same shelf but lower down, her impressive upper body strength letting her stretch past Vad with her sinuous neck. ¡°It is telling us something.¡± Vad shook his head slightly, despite not being observed. ¡°It¡¯s telling us to go downstairs, and I don¡¯t want to. I thought we were at the bottom! We went down eight times to get to the camp with the door, and it¡¯s got bedrock!¡± Spire-Cast-Behind didn¡¯t bother replying that dungeons didn¡¯t have bedrock. For all she knew, they did, though it seemed unlikely. If anything, the solid limits of a dungeon wouldn¡¯t be on the outside of it, regardless. For some reason she believed that intently, even if thinking about it didn¡¯t do anything to explain how it would work. Instead, she just analyzed their current position. The scouting expedition had been fruitful so far. Even this deep in the dungeon, where things got truly dangerous, they were doing well. The trap that had exploded and fired library cards like bits of shrapnel had caused injuries, but nothing lethal through the armor. The trap that had turned a shadow into a puddle that threatened to sink them had been messy, but survivable. The trap that had electrified the shelves around them in a thin corridor of shelves had been most difficult, but avoiding the arcs of lightning once Juan got the pattern down for them had mostly been an act of timing and dexterity. Prince had complained through all of it, which Spire-Cast-Behind did her best to be understanding of. He didn¡¯t see, yet, what an unapproachable treasure he was being given with every orb they collected. Every piece of ink that swirled onto their bodies. Every small mystery they uncovered. They¡¯d found a catalog, and followed the small folded feline¡¯s directions only a short distance away to a secret room. Then they¡¯d carefully mapped out how to get from the mossy stone ring and the activating pedestal back to the camp, so that the expedition could finally start using some of those words to make some of the strange magic items the Stacks produced. On the way, they¡¯d found another wonder as they cut across a blank part of the map; a stone globe over a still fountain, with a dark shape prowling across it. Two things, then, to come back for. And now, they were cut off. A trio of those massive paper lions had intercepted their clean line to the camp, and backtracking wasn¡¯t possible either with where they were positioned. A simple mistake on Spire¡¯s part, and they were poised to die with one more misstep. It was humbling, in a way. ¡°Keep moving.¡± Spire suggested. ¡°Between these shelves, down to the steps. Then¡­ right. We can make turns and retrace past where the crow was.¡± ¡°What if I bleed out before that happens?¡± Prince asked, voice too loud for an expedition like this. ¡°You aren¡¯t bleeding.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said. ¡°You do not appear to bleed from injuries. I am bleeding more than you. Please do not complain as a joke, it makes decisions challenging.¡± Juan shuffled closer to the group, walking backward and watching down the narrow and dark shelves behind them. The humans thought there was something intrinsically ominous about the dark, and Spire was starting to see their point, as every time the group had been required to move through spaces with no lighting, something had tried to kill her. ¡°They aren¡¯t following.¡± He told them. ¡°But I still don¡¯t think we can go back that way. What¡¯s the plan?¡± Vad looked down at Spire, then sighed as the camraconda deferred to her team leader. ¡°Head toward the stairs, take a right. We¡¯ll try to circle back to the intersection with the crow nest, and split from there. Should be able to make it back to camp without fighting anything huge.¡± He paused, and then added his own instruction. ¡°Also, TQ, radio Alanna¡¯s team. If they¡¯re nearby, we could use the backup right now, just to be safe.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind let out an unintentional hiss of satisfaction, and stiffened slightly as the other camraconda on the team caught it and gave her a small noise of acknowledgement. She hadn¡¯t actually meant to do that, and she really was trying to let Vadik take the lead. It was good for him to have some experience with it. Not that she¡¯d know what that was like. The team moved cautiously, aware that there were more traps in the area than anyone had expected. And indeed, Spire-Cast-Behind caught sight of a seemingly innocuous stack of plastic library cards sitting out on a return cart that blocked half the hallway they were using. She signaled the others, and she and TQ got better lines of sight on the trap while Juan grabbed an inert book from nearby and whipped it at the offending target. He missed twice before he caught it with a paperback, and a silent detonation threatened to spray the cards across the hall. Spire felt her sight ¡®catch¡¯ a few of them, but the others scattered back into the return cart, overly sharp edges sticking into the wood of the rolling cart or into the nearby sign lying about what the nearest aisle held. Once she verified everyone was out of the way, Spire let hers go, and TQ did the same, letting a few stragglers slice into books and wood. ¡°All clear?¡± Vad asked, and got a nod. Though he still took the time to look closely himself, which was a good trait. ¡°All clear. Okay. Let¡¯s move.¡± They got as far as the stairs before something tried to kill them again. This time, it was a standing lamp that opened up glowing wings and spat some kind of luminescent fluid at Prince. The mimic had reacted by shrieking, and then barked like a gunshot. This had - strangely in Spire¡¯s opinion - killed the lampad that had ambushed them. A rough hole punched through its chest dropping it from where it had been starting to flap into the air. It had also been excessively loud. ¡°What the shit was that?!¡± Vad demanded of the person pretending to be a golden retriever. ¡°Did you fucking bring a gun¡­ wait, where would you¡­ wait.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not technically a gun, relax!¡± Prince said, not meeting anyone¡¯s eyes. ¡°Also stop yelling! Loud noises are bad here, right?¡± ¡°I am very much going to yell at you when we are back to safety.¡± TQ had declared. Spire-Cast-Behind wasn¡¯t as comfortable with that kind of overt emotion as her counterpart on this delve was, but she was starting to come around. ¡°Banter later.¡± She said mechanically. ¡°Move now. Incoming.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck yeah, incoming.¡± Juan¡¯s voice rose in pitch as their rearguard saw dozens of books filled with teeth crawling across the shelves toward them, the noise attracting attention from much farther than they¡¯d cleared out. One of them, stealthy by its species standards, leapt out at his head from a high perch nearby, and kept snapping even as the ring of floating pencils that Momo had forced the young man to bring intercepted it and held it pinned in place. Juan made a quick hand gesture that Spire couldn¡¯t follow, and the book was ripped into uneven pieces. ¡°Run? Vad?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t run, move quickly.¡± Vad ordered, his voice falling into a cool confidence in the face of the incoming disaster. ¡°TQ, Prince, lead. Call out traps, disarm what you can fast, don¡¯t take chances. The rest of us, fighting retreat. Prince, tell us if we¡¯re going to overlap you.¡± He grabbed a loose hardback and flung it at a forward target in the approaching horde. ¡°Go!¡± They went. And it quickly devolved into a melee of snapping fangs and paper that writhed like living skin as texts came over the walls around them and threw themselves at the group with no sense of self preservation. But it would take more than just the start of an assault like this to hurt them. The group shifted shield bracers to bites, sending tomes skittering off domes of light, and struck back with deliberately targeted attacks from hand axes and, for the humans, stomps against targets frozen in place on the ground. Spire-Cast-Behind used the newly upgraded force on her mechanical arms to fire and reload a pair of hand crossbows at anything that came at them from a high arc; only hitting sometimes and never killing, but keeping up a steady stream of suppressive fire that actually did make the texts think twice. Juan and TQ burned their stored velocity liberally to Pave anything else that got too close, slapping attacks away and sending books sprawling in sprays of inky blood. They were halfway through their looping path that would put them back on track to the camp, when it became clear that the assault wasn¡¯t letting up. They weren¡¯t killing the books fast enough; in fact, Spire-Cast-Behind was nearly certain they weren¡¯t killing many of them at all. Spire-Cast-Behind got a lucky shot off on a book that was dropping toward her; through the lashing tongue and into the ¡®throat¡¯ and the thing just dropped limply onto her back. Fangs scraped against her armor shell, the dead creature no longer ¡®biting¡¯ untouched by the shield bracer. She triggered the automated routine in her arms to reload that crossbow, and froze up as she realized she was out of bolts. Then another book slammed into her, because her bracer was dry of charges. TQ froze it before it could wrap around her, and Vad grabbed it without hesitation before flinging it down the hall behind them. Another twenty crawled along the floor where it landed, waiting to take its place. ¡°Well. This is bad.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind stated. The others didn¡¯t reply as the fight swirled around them, and they pressed back together in a group. Escape was cut off now, and they were in a lot of trouble. ¡°Telepad!¡± Vad made the call before anyone got seriously hurt. Juan pulled his out, and TQ started radioing in their escape plan, when Alanna decided to show up. Spire-Cast-Behind was, tangentially, aware that Alanna was dangerous. She hadn¡¯t really caught on to just how dangerous. Or how, perhaps, the raw combat potential of each exploration team wasn¡¯t actually balanced against each other. Heralded by a thin line of orange light, the woman tore a hole in the maelstrom of living texts. Flanked by a far more focused and lethal dog, and a man that was definitely abusing the kick strike on the Status Quo greave to maneuver, there was very rapidly not only an escape route, but a turning of the tide. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Vad and Alanna exchanged some rapid words as their teams formed defensive lines. They didn¡¯t even need to pull their firearms at that point; with reinforcements like this, it wasn¡¯t long before what was left of their attackers were routed, with half the books simply choosing to pretend they had been inert fiction novels this whole time. ¡°Sorry we¡¯re late.¡± Alanna apologized, panting, as she fiddled with the thin green bracelet of her authority. The left half of her face was marked with angry red marks in the shape of oddly set letters. ¡°We ran into an interdictionary.¡± ¡°I told you that you can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ call it that.¡± Kirk sighed as Harriet settled into a skirt of peacock feathers around his waist. ¡°That sounds too much like a real thing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a dictionary that stops us.¡± Smoke-And-Ember challenged the man. ¡°What are we supposed to call it? A¡­ letter¡­ stopper? No. That escaped from me. Forget those words.¡± He said it like it was a command, the camraconda¡¯s flustered mood slipping his grip on the language he wasn¡¯t yet perfectly familiar with. As they collected the fallen orbs, and made sure no one was hurt in a way that couldn¡¯t wait for the half mile trek back to camp, Spire-Cast-Behind caught her breath, and steadied herself for the rest of their return trip, facing the hardest challenge she tended to have with the other delvers. Socializing when not under threat of death. It was, mercifully, not a long walk. But nothing else tried to kill them, so she had to make an effort to participate in conversation. _____ ¡°This is the kind of thing that I feel like Momo would have loved to have been here for.¡± Thermoclese said as she stared at the stone torus that hovered with its lower edge a centimeter over the wooden floor inside the secret pocket of bookshelves. ¡°I¡¯ve only sorta talked to her, but this seems like her shit.¡± The worn grey rock was shot through with lines of moss, like veins of green quartz only clearly still alive and creeping slightly from their assigned places. It was impressive, and spooky, and didn¡¯t seem to fit a library at all, much less a Library. But it was here. And so they were using it. There was a podium that came up in front of the stone circle, like an altar to a forgotten god. And on it, a book. The book didn¡¯t have a title, or any words in it, except for a single sentence near the middle. And it wasn¡¯t even a whole sentence; it was an arcane mad lib. Something winner seizes something. ¡°So, how does this looming ominous thing work?¡± Myles asked her. He¡¯d been one of the people to volunteer to escort a few of the less violent expedition members out to the secret room, and despite being on a rest day, he¡¯d been allowed because he had a lot of the word tattoos. Picked up from days of delving and being one of the people who just knew a lot of linguistic trivia. Thermoclese wasn¡¯t sure if she was comfortable with him, on the grounds that he seemed¡­ normal. Too normal, compared to most of the Order, even if he did say shit like ¡°looming ominous thing¡±. Anesh, though, she was fine with. He was too gay to be perfectly normal, even if he faked it a lot. ¡°So, the book over there has a fill-in-the-blanks in it.¡± He told Myles. ¡°You put collected words in, and the ring makes a magic item from that.¡± ¡°What kind of item?¡± Myles asked, narrowing his eyes at the engine of creation. ¡°Uh¡­ magic.¡± Thermoclese said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how we¡¯re supposed to know that. We¡¯ve found ones of these things.¡± Anesh gave Myles a thin smile as he stacked up a few wide books to make a low table for himself, and cracked a laptop open. ¡°She¡¯s being rude, but she¡¯s right. We only ever had that lion figurine that we made. And Therm¡¯s also right, because Momo did love this thing. And those figurines.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± Came the almost unthinking reply. ¡°Apologies.¡± Anesh said easily. Myles didn¡¯t drop it, instead running his hand through the air near the ring, but carefully not touching it. He jolted in shock as a nesting crow cawed into his head, dragged out of his thoughts and back to the world of wood and fake books he was in. ¡°Right, uh, what did the lions do? Did they turn into lions?¡± ¡°No, that would be too cool.¡± Thermoclese said as she paged through the massive tome, just in case there was something else. ¡°They were one-use things that made things weird.¡± Anesh stood up from his crouch as he finished getting his spreadsheet set up for their record keeping. ¡°That¡¯s reductive. I think they made people distrust authority in an area around them while the effect lasted.¡± He nodded politely to the people who walked in the entrance of the secret room, Arrush and TQ making sure the way was safe for Chevoy and Amelia. ¡°Alright, this is everyone for now, right?¡± ¡°The rest of them won¡¯t shut up about the door.¡± Chevoy complained. ¡°It¡¯s not complicated, it¡¯s just a really simple crossword.¡± ¡°A crossword complicated by the fact that different languages have different spellings for words, yes.¡± TQ ¡®agreed¡¯ with a nod. ¡°I enjoy the puzzle of it. But Chevoy is correct, it was simple to create an index of translations of words and compare overlapping characters to find potential correct solutions. Finding the words will be the hard part.¡± Anesh and Thermoclese shared a glance, ignoring Amelia as she went over to run a hand on the stone ring while she stared in wonder at the floating artifact. Anesh turned back to the camraconda. ¡°You¡¯re smarter than people think, aren¡¯t you?¡± He asked. ¡°James says that to me sometimes.¡± TQ said, somehow making his digital voice come across as smug. Amelia had wandered over to the book, and was staring at it like she was peeling back the secrets of the universe. ¡°What were the words?¡± The older woman spoke like an interrogator who had no expectation of not getting an answer. ¡°The words used for the lion statuettes.¡± ¡°Tyrant breaking tongue.¡± Anesh answered instantly. It was hard to forget that one. Arrush made a noise that it took a second for most of the group to interpret as a low laugh. ¡°Impressive tongue.¡± He rasped out, before laughing to himself again. Anesh found himself grinning ear to ear at the ratroach without thinking about it; just happy to see him making a joke without worry. ¡°In case you¡¯re wondering,¡± Thermoclese added as she tried to impolitely elbow her way back to the commanding spot at the pedestal, ¡°we know that it looks like we made an item that does what the words that went into it say.¡± Amelia looked at her with her mouth set in a thin line, and eyes that were already looking back as she tried to calculate the thousand and one ways this could be applied. ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited. Part of what we¡¯re here to test is if that¡¯s actually true.¡± Amelia just nodded silently, staring at the creation torus with a look halfway between awe, and the desire to peel it apart to learn what made it work. ¡°So!¡± Thermoclese declared a little too loudly, disturbing the pen and ink crow overhead. ¡°Are we done? Can we start now?¡± ¡°I do have more questions.¡± Amelia said softly, pulling her eyes down to fix on where Anesh and Chevoy were looking at a list of nouns they had available. ¡°Why do we not find another book?¡± Anesh made one final note then glanced over. ¡°You mean, a different book like that one?¡± He pointed at the heavy tome on the dias and got a sharp eyed nod in reply. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure we can. We can¡¯t move that one at all, except to flip the pages. Maybe if we brought another one in, it¡¯d be different, but we can¡¯t exactly find them on command.¡± ¡°Yes we can?¡± Arrush pushed his discomfort with talking too much away to ask. ¡°The¡­ navigators. Or the armored girl. Or a catalog.¡± He used one of his spare hands to tick off options. ¡°All good choices, actually.¡± Anesh agreed. ¡°Though we don¡¯t want to use the navigators too much that way, because they can cause mishaps.¡± ¡°Zhu apologizes for that again, by the way.¡± TQ interjected. Anesh nodded stoically. ¡°Anyway. Cam¡¯s fortune sense has something like a month long cooldown, so she¡¯s recovering that. And catalogs or maps, if we find them, we should totally use, after we get the rest of the words to open the big door. That¡¯s a good point, and I have no excuses. We¡¯ll see if we can find another book.¡± Arms folded and foot tapping, Thermoclese made her impatience known. ¡°Is everyone happy now? Can we make some magic items?¡± ¡°Satisfied.¡± Arrush said as he wiped the back of a glove on the corner of his muzzle. ¡°Yes, for now. I would like to see this working too, I think.¡± Amelia added. They got down to the real reason for securing this site. In ones and twos, matching words across multiple languages into a linguistic format that might or might not line up to any of them, they spoke the words they had collected from around the Ceaseless Stacks. Small lines of living ink sliding painlessly off of skin or chitin or cable to fill the waiting slots in the tome. And each time, the torus would light up. The moss glowing an otherworldly green, a thin slice of space in the open air of its center glowing brightly. Then the light would vanish, quicker than it arrived, and there would be something hanging in the air in the center of the cracked stone ring. They started with the ones that sounded like they could be directly useful to the Order, and worked down the list for the sake of being thorough and also making it so no one had to walk around with tattoos they didn¡¯t want. Beloved Winner Seizes Momentum created a sculpture of a blooming flower that fit in the palm of a hand. Thermoclese and Chevoy disagreed on exactly how it would be useful, but agreed it would probably work best for training, and since the magic was untested, all three copies got to sit for now along with their argument. Broken Winner Seizes Recovery made a small wooden carving of a pumpkin. The hope for the four copies of that they had were that they would heal the injured after a fight. Assuming, probably, that the Order had won. They actually had two versions of it, with the chinese word for recovery not fitting the same syntax, and also making the pumpkin purple. They ran into problems with words that had double meanings, but speaking the word in english seemed to apply the chosen definition. Which is how they got Skirmish Winner Seizes Blades, and also Bargain Winner Seizes Blades from the same Hebrew text Amelia had picked up. They looked identical, but Thermoclese and Arrush both agreed they felt different, so Anesh labeled them carefully with duct tape before they moved on. It wasn¡¯t long before they ran out of things that sounded, if not useful, then at least to carry a kind of powerful weight to them. But Anesh was firm that there was no such thing as a useless magic item, and Thermoclese was adamant that while Anesh was wrong, that they could still learn from the useless ones. So they kept filtering words in until everyone was out of everything but the last one or two adverbs. Myles found personal humor in Fungal Winner Seizes Cleaning. He didn¡¯t know why, but the little sandstone mushroom it made felt warmly familiar in an amusing way. Anesh said the shape was a coincidence; Myles said that he didn¡¯t care. Finally, they checked off the last viable word pair with Wet Winner Seizes Color, got a granite rendition of a soggy and unhappy Siamese cat, and were done with the process. From start to finish, expending about a hundred words, marking down combinations, alternate meanings, and labeling and packing up the creations that they were assuming were all single use, it had been about three hours. Anesh was already tired, but some of the others seemed excited to do more. ¡°Alright.¡± He got their attention, cutting off the muttered monologue that Amelia was working on as she stared at the ring. ¡°Let¡¯s head back, we can rotate out new escorts and extras so that we can get some more words in here, and so Arrush and TQ can do something more fun than watch us mess around. Amelia, we¡¯re going to be doing another production run, do you want¡­?¡± ¡°Matter ex nihilo.¡± The woman said, one hand resting in the inside of the floating stone ring. She was leaning on it, but it was stubbornly refusing to move. Her head swung around to look at the others. ¡°Did you know about this?¡± She demanded. ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± Chevoy said like it wasn¡¯t a big deal. She and Thermoclese shrugged at each other. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re not on speaking terms with entropy.¡± ¡°Fuck the end of all things!¡± Thermoclese added. ¡°We¡¯re gonna fuck it. But with replicators. Which we have two of now I guess, since you¡¯re totally right, and this one is making matter from nothing, even if it is a limited replicator?¡± ¡°Three.¡± TQ stated cheerfully. ¡°If you count making bullets.¡± ¡°Three replicators, thanks hisses.¡± Thermoclese grinned. ¡°So Amelia¡¯s going to stick around I guess. Let¡¯s go find some new resources.¡± ¡°Say it in a better way.¡± Anesh told her as he checked that his armor was on properly, and led the group out of the secret room and back on the path to their camp. Just because they had cleared the way was no reason to get complacent. They were in a dungeon. Acting like it was a casual stroll was how people were going to get hurt. Though he admitted he was still excited to get back and see what else they could make. _____ Ceaseless Stacks Expedition Report - Day 4 - Discovery See paired map segment CS 3-8-15. Delve team 3 discovered a series of tunnels through what was thought to be a section of impassible dungeon. Two entrances were found concealed behind secret bookshelves, and the tunnels lead into segments of the dungeon that have gone unmapped due to no clear way to reach them. Exploration was postponed due to injury on the team. They report the sound of running water, as well as the sound of birds. Since we have had luck finding purple orbs in ¡®marsh¡¯ areas, this could be worth checking out in the future. The tunnels require humans to duck, but camracondas can traverse them easily. Material is coarse stone, though it lacks jagged edges or protrusions visible from the entrance. _____ James and Arrush sat together on a moss covered shelf perched over a lake. Their team was taking a short rest, and Frequency and Zhu were on lookout right now. So James had sat down to watch their newest find, and was pleasantly surprised when Arrush had joined him. Tomorrow, they were going to head back. The route to the entrance was mapped out, and they could easily make the trip as a group. The whole expedition had been carefully planned by James and more carefully orchestrated by Anesh so that no one was exhausted or pushed too far. They¡¯d had injuries by this point, but Nik and his authority were more than proficient enough to stitch wounds and replenish lost blood, and nothing had been worse than that. There¡¯d be some new scars, but no one had lost a limb or an internal organ. It was a shame, because James was starting to really like this place. But they could always come back. Maybe this would become his full time job; spending weeks or months at a time leading people through dungeons. He¡¯d picked up another handful of ranks in things; everyone had. Arrush had gotten a species rank in grasshoppers, which was actually kind of cool, and James had tried another purple orb to find a tool rank in awls, which was weird. Nothing life changing, just small improvements that they could all count on for the rest of their lives. And they¡¯d found some really amazing stuff. Like the thick off-white lake they were sitting on the shore of. At the end of a tricky hall of traps and ambushes, carpeted with something that seemed to consume sound around them, they¡¯d found a basin carved into the stone floor of the Ceaseless Stacks. Collapsed shelves and tables around it like it had just been punched down into the environment. Small waves lapped at the cracked marble, though where they came from was anyone¡¯s guess; it wasn¡¯t an ocean, they could clearly see the other side a hundred feet away. It wasn¡¯t even technically a lake; James was pretty sure it qualified as a pond. It was also full of liquid paper. That had been a real surprise. The stuff dried eventually, and could be used to coat a surface in something that was easy to write on. It could also be melted, and turned back to liquid form, which meant the little pond here was above room temperature, though that was the least surprising part. It was clearly paper, it just didn¡¯t behave materially like paper was supposed to. James had no idea what to do with that information, or if this was something that could be useful, but they¡¯d collected a large amount of it just to mess around with. It was just casual magic that ignored physical laws. James loved it, even if it did smell kinda odd. ¡°You know,¡± He said out loud to Arrush, ¡°I¡¯m gonna miss this place after we leave.¡± The ratroach tilted his head slightly, two of the eyes that were offset on the right side of his head locking onto James at a sharp angle. ¡°Not the fighting and especially not the long term camping part. Oh, boy, am I looking forward to actually having a real bathroom again. But this.¡± He motioned to the pond. ¡°It¡¯s cool. I like this.¡± ¡°I also like this.¡± Arrush spoke softly. The Library was a lot of things, but the way it demanded quiet in a number of different ways actually worked in the ratroach¡¯s favor. When there weren¡¯t any other people around, and they weren¡¯t in combat, he had a much easier time being heard. He could speak quietly, without hurting his throat, and still be understood. ¡°I like time with people.¡± Arrush added, tilting his angular head to bring more eyes to focus on James. ¡°Uh huh.¡± James smiled. ¡°I meant¡­¡± James tipped sideways to let the shoulder of his armor bump into Arrush¡¯s. ¡°I know what you meant, it¡¯s alright. I¡¯m not gonna be offended or anything, we¡¯ve talked about this.¡± He sighed. ¡°And you know what? I also like having you around. So don¡¯t panic.¡± James held a hand over his mouth to cover a silent chuckle as he noticed Arrush shifting back and forth to sit straighter and more confidently. They watched the paper swirl and flow for a few minutes before James spoke again. ¡°We should do this sometime outside. Out on Earth, I mean. Go to an actual lake, maybe camp for a couple days. I feel like I¡¯ve been inside too much lately, if we include dungeons. I feel like I¡¯ve been inside too much in my whole life.¡± ¡°I would.¡± Arrush agreed with the proposal instantly. ¡°Going outside is¡­ um¡­¡± he thought about word choice as they sat and rested. ¡°Not scary. Not anymore. And I like it. But I only go out with people.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, you go jogging with Alanna now!¡± James perked up. ¡°Also I do totally know what you¡¯re getting at, I think. I don¡¯t go anywhere unless I¡¯m supposed to be doing something, or if I¡¯m with someone else. Like, just wandering around and looking at things feels¡­ uh¡­ awkward? Wrong?¡± ¡°Yesss!¡± Arrush hissed suddenly, a few corrosive drops spraying from his bared fangs. ¡°I feel like I don¡¯t belong. And I don¡¯t! But that¡¯s okay. But also I would go camping.¡± ¡°You absolutely shouldn¡¯t have to feel like you don¡¯t belong.¡± James whispered, staring at the ratroach with a sudden pang of sorrow. Arrush made a half-shrug motion with some of the extra arms that protruded from his back and flank. ¡°Don¡¯t be sad.¡± He told James with his own morose cracked grin. ¡°I belong here. With us. Everyone else¡­ they don¡¯t not matter. But if they won¡¯t accept me, I am not going to try or care.¡± He titled his head up and looked at the layered iron bands that crossed overhead. An illusion of a skylight with false light streaming through it to light up the odd liquid they¡¯d found. Arrush didn¡¯t exactly feel good about it, but he¡¯d been talking to his therapist about the nature of acceptance, and he was starting to not only understand, but to feel like the most important person who could accept him was himself. It was nice. Even if it was a work in progress. ¡°Alright¡­¡± James said, not quite party to the internal thoughts of his friend. ¡°Well, everyone here accepts you. Just in case you were curious. I mean, fuck, even Camille seems fine with it, and I¡¯ll be honest, I expected a fight there. Like, an argument fight, not a fight fight.¡± ¡°Oh. Good. I don¡¯t want to hurt her.¡± Arrush wasn¡¯t sure if he even could, but the statement was true. He didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone. ¡°I don¡¯t like arguing either.¡± He dipped his face down to stare at his own claws, folding and unfolding them nervously. James patted him on the back, which was mostly a symbolic gesture since there was more than a little armor between the points of contact. But he hoped it reassured Arrush anyway. ¡°I know, it¡¯s cute.¡± He said, causing the ratroach to flush bright green around his eyes. A small spear of orange light caught James¡¯ attention as it wove through the shelves on the opposite shore. There was a slight hesitation, before the glowing line decided to just cut across the surface of the lake and wrap around James¡¯ arm. Zhu pulled his manifest form together quickly, the simple shape turning into complex feathers and a glowing eye in seconds. ¡°Sorry to interrupt your romantic moment, but there¡¯s something singing coming this way.¡± He said. ¡°More companionable than romantic, I think.¡± James said as he stood and offered Arrush a hand up. ¡°But I dunno, could go either way; Arrush, what was it to you?¡± ¡°I won¡¯t tell you.¡± Arrush huffed through his snout in embarrassment, looking away from them. ¡°And I hear it.¡± ¡°Same.¡± James said. ¡°Simon, Myles, Sunny! Storyteller headed this way!¡± The others scrambled to get up and double check armor and weapons as James walked away from the pool of paper and back into the middle of their group. ¡°Options?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not hauling this cart in a hurry while being chased.¡± Simon said bluntly. ¡°We¡¯ve got, what? Thirty gallons of paper in here?¡± The man paused, and looked down at his feet with his eyes pressed closed. ¡°Yeah, I know, that¡¯s a weird thing to say.¡± He softly said, mostly to himself. ¡°We could come back for it.¡± Myles said, advocating for retreat. ¡°It¡¯s not like we need this stuff.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight gave a sharp hiss underneath her spoken words. ¡°Or we could just fight it!¡± She declared. ¡°I¡¯ll look at it, you all punch it! Easy!¡± A quick vote followed, and while Myles grumbled over it, he still got ready with the others to ambush the incoming guardian creature. ¡°Okay, remember.¡± James told them. ¡°The storytellers can talk in your head, like the crows. So even if Sunny locks it down, it can still react. Who hears it singing?¡± He raised his hand, along with Arrush and Simon. ¡°Alright. We¡¯re marked targets, so when it starts narrating, be ready to improvise, okay?¡± The others nodded, and moved to get in position. ¡°If it passes by,¡± James added, ¡°just let it go, right?¡± Simon flashed him a thumbs up. Sunny nodded. Arrush didn¡¯t say anything, because Arrush assumed James knew that he would always go along with any plan he had. The singing didn¡¯t get louder, though when the storyteller stepped out onto the opposite shore of the pond, it did get more present. James could feel the light melodic humming like it was radiating from his bones. Something real and seeping into the world in a concrete way as the human shaped figure moved. They were wearing a tweed robe that hung in strips of cloth off slender limbs, a face like a curious porcelain mask, and a habit of moving from place to place in short bursts before almost freezing to examine what they were looking at or touching with one of the sharpened fingers. It was halfway around to their side of the pond when it spotted someone. To be fair, James was going to try talking to it, but now there wasn¡¯t even a chance of a good first impression. The librarian priestess locked its eyes onto Arrush¡¯s hiding spot a few seconds too early, and with a flutter of her hand, pulled a dozen pages from books and papers scattered around, formed them into wickedly sharp paper airplanes, and fired them forward in a barrage. Arrush rolled out from behind the shelf, extra arms pulling him along the floor as he scuttled away from the attack. James and Simon moved too, rushing the storyteller even as it started to narrate. ¡°There was a crack of wood and a splash of liquid, and a sudden shifting of the ground, as one of them tumbled sideways-!¡± The voice that wasn¡¯t quite speaking bounced around the battlefield as James saw the thing spring into a crouch behind a reading chair. He answered the dangling thread, grabbing onto the story and adding his own words before they could be made real. ¡°The shelf dropped into the lake, while the delver fell back onto the stone!¡± There was a trick they¡¯d learned that was exceptionally hard to keep track of in a fight. The storytellers could rewrite reality, but delvers could counter it, but, you had to follow the purest rule of improv. Only yes and. James couldn¡¯t stop someone falling now that it was stated, all he could do was rewrite where they were going. Fortunately, it seemed like storytellers were balanced in their own way, and couldn¡¯t just outright kill someone. But still. Suddenly he was running alone, as Simon was behind him and toppling onto his side. The other delver rose and circled the pond on the other side, unharmed, but that had been close. James ducked a paper airplane sent his way, and then took another on his arm guard. They were sharp, but he was wearing stuff designed to stop knives, so even magical paper wasn¡¯t getting through. He just needed to be careful about his eyes. And to close in to melee range where he could engage the storyteller without being under bombardment; they weren¡¯t nearly as physically strong as stuffed shirts. Either that, or hem it in so Myles and Simon could handle it. Or get it out from behind the chair. His teammates would handle that, James just had to do the hard part first. ¡°The charge faltered with a simple trip!¡± The voice yelled as a paper airplane tried to hit his forehead. ¡°A sudden drop, the upcoming floor, and then-¡° ¡°He hit the padding of the chair!¡± James gasped out as fast as he could, his mind prodded slightly into place with Zhu¡¯s help. ¡°Clearing it out of the way!¡± He barely got it out before the song thrummed and made it real. And then his foot snagged on something, and he was plunging forward; the space around him had snapped to somewhere different, not unlike using a telepad, except he was only twenty feet ahead. Moving at a new angle, James sprawled forward, dropping his hand axe and getting his arms up over his head as he slapped limply against the armchair that the storyteller was hiding behind. The air rushed out of his lungs as he landed, and then the world tipped over him as more force than he should have had made sure he rolled along with the furniture. Then the storyteller froze in place as it was exposed to Frequency-Of-Sunlight; the camraconda¡¯s stare from across the pond of liquid paper locking it down. Shortly after, as James shoved the heavy chair off himself and rose on shaking legs, Simon and Myles rushed it from opposite sides. The storyteller said something that Simon didn¡¯t react to in time, and he vanished before he could strike, but Myles connected a solid hit to the creature¡¯s side, the thrust of a blade slipping under the tweed robe and plunging into its chest. No longer being bombarded, Arrush had made good time catching up, and the ratroach moved in to finish off the storyteller. But then it said one more thing, which James caught as he pushed off a lopsided table on the pond¡¯s shore to put himself back in the fight. ¡°¡­asked for mercy, and knew it would be granted, because-¡° the unmoving creature with its unchanging mask of a face let the pause hang, as Arrush was about to stab several blades into it. Then the ratroach, before the magic even took hold, pulled his strikes and straightened to the closest thing to a looming stance he could manage with his warped spine. ¡°Because that would be the end of it.¡± He said. ¡°And they would never attack these people again.¡± Something in the air twisted, and then was true. As Simon stumbled out of a nearby row of shelves, kicking a persistent and angry hardcover biography off his greave, he found everyone catching their breath and standing around like everything was perfectly normal. The storyteller looked down at itself, then back at Arrush with its head tilting in what seemed like confusion. Its head kept tilting slowly, until it had rotated almost a hundred and twenty degrees in a move that would kill basically anyone else who tried it, before it froze and kept looking at him. James walked up to Arrush and patted him on the shoulder, trying to suck in a breath to replace what had been slammed out of him. ¡°Nice one.¡± He said, before turning to the storyteller while the others approached cautiously. ¡°Hey there.¡± James said to the inhuman dungeon creature. Up close, it was easier than ever to see that its face was a facsimile; he wasn¡¯t even sure if those were real eyes, or if it had eyes at all. ¡°We¡¯re just passing through. Would you like to-¡° ¡°He didn¡¯t finish talking before the prey was gone, running with its tell tale magic to-¡° James held up a hand to Simon and Arrush while the other two delvers held back farther, not having heard the storyteller¡¯s monologue. He just sighed, and shrugged. ¡°Well, if you ever want to say hi¡­¡± He said. And then the magic twisted, and the thing was gone. Somewhere else, having escaped, just like it said it would. ¡°That was so cool!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said as she slithered up suddenly to circle around where they storyteller had been. ¡°You were all teleporting everywhere, and it all lined up perfectly, and then Myles was like ¡®haha! I¡¯m cool and have a sword!¡¯ and that was great! We should fight more things like this, and less things like the stupid fucking books that can bite through my tail.¡± James grinned wildly when he saw Myles trying to contain his emotions at being called cool. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll take that under advisement.¡± He told the camraconda. ¡°Alright. If we¡¯re feeling okay, let¡¯s head back to camp before that thing comes back with friends. I wanna get some real sleep before we do the last thing here and then head home.¡± The others nodded agreement, and they left the pond of gently lapping paper behind, tugging their cart full of loot behind them. ¡°Ya know,¡± Myles offered, ¡°I wasn¡¯t affected by that. I could have stabbed it.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± James shrugged. ¡°But it asked for mercy. Isn¡¯t that enough?¡± Myles thought about it as they walked, before he nodded to himself. ¡°Guess it is.¡± He said to no one in particular. _____ There was one last thing they all wanted to do before they left the dungeon. Everyone took a few hours to rest. Eat something, take a nap if they needed to, awkwardly use the bathroom before the magical buckets were packed away. Then they had packed everything up. Carts were loaded with everything they had found, everything they were taking back with them, and everything left over from their original supplies. The lost weight of missing water and tools that had been damaged or lost was replaced by sacks of collected orbs, cases of created items, and dozens of recovered computer pieces. Then they¡¯d set up for action. The non-combatants, and also Camille to keep them safe just in case, had retreated to the top of the staircase that they¡¯d camped at the bottom of. Everyone else had set up behind cover, figured out camraconda angles, confirmed secondary positions in the event something disruptive happened, and double checked that all their guns were loaded and ready. And then TQ and Vad had brought the last two words that the arched stone door needed to complete its puzzle. The tattoo words slid off of them as they spoke the answers to the crossword clues, filling in the empty spaces that covered the face of the rocky edifice. There were bets on the line about what was behind the door, but because it was generally accepted that there was a fifty percent chance that it was a dragon of some kind, the entire expedition was in position to fight if needed. Though Anesh was also standing front and center as TQ and Vad retreated to their assigned spots, to attempt diplomacy if possible. He had the invaluable laser pointer that could project emotions, and honestly he was feeling pretty calmly excited about the prospect of trading hoards with a bookwyrm of some kind. Which hopefully meant any hypothetical dragon would be too. The words settled into their place as everyone held their breath. And then, after a few long minutes as the puzzle¡¯s lines started to glow with a pale lilac light, the tall arched door split open with a completely silent motion. Over a dozen delvers, experienced in their own right but freshly improved by a week of adventure and action, clutched their weapons and waited to see what would come out of the dark space on the other side of the threshold. The doors continued to peel outward without a sound, and no one in the expedition felt like making a noise to break the silence. Then the doors stopped. Hanging open on unseen hinges, the puzzle¡¯s light fading out to nothing. Nothing charged out, no twisting dark cavern revealed itself, no sudden violence erupted. Instead, there was just a single display podium, barely illuminated by the lanterns placed around the door by the Order. It was a modern style, like it belonged in a mundane history museum. Driving that vibe home, to James at least, was the thing sitting on it. Held up on one of those thin metal frames that he had only ever seen in museums, a slightly damaged stone tablet faced the expedition. There were a few pieces of writing on it, but most of it was blank. And it sat there, waiting for them. ¡°Huh.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Should I¡­?¡± He looked around for confirmation, and got a nod from James. So, covered by everyone else, he crept forward slowly. Nothing bad happened when he stepped through the doors, nothing bad happened when he picked up the tablet, and nothing bad happened when he walked back out. The doors didn¡¯t even mystically close behind him, they just sat open as a reminder of the hard work it had taken to crack them in the first place. ¡°Wonder what this does?¡± He said as everyone started to relax. The thick stone lit up in his grip, and Anesh would later admit to James that it had taken every ounce of composure he had to not scream and fling it at the floor. A single small point of light at the top of the tablet, shining brightly. And, upon closer inspection, creeping slowly to the right. ¡°Is that¡­ what an ancient loading bar looks like?¡± Someone had asked. No one had any better suggestions. ¡°Alright!¡± James declared voice echoing off the now bare stone; sleeping bags and camp supplies and carts all packed away and no longer making the open dark cavern feel in any way like home. ¡°That was it! We did something impressive, and now it¡¯s time to go! Let¡¯s go tell the others so they can stop worrying we¡¯re getting murdered, and then get outta here.¡± He grinned at the group. ¡°Milkshakes are on me, for anyone who inexplicably feels like spending more time together after a whole week getting on each other¡¯s nerves.¡± The expedition opened up into chatter as they split into their small groups and ascended the dungeon staircase to meet up with the rest of their members. It was a long walk back to the door to reality before their exit window, but even after they¡¯d made it in good time, tired and sore and ready to be out of this place¡­ Some people still took James up on his offer. _____ Ceaseless Stacks Expedition Report - Day 7 - Acquisitions Size 1 yellow orbs (Library) : 1220 Size 2 yellow orbs (Library) : 41 Size 3 yellow orbs (Library) : 2 Size 1 blue orbs (Library) : 181 Size 1 purple orbs (Library) : 297 Size 2 purple orbs (Library) : 3 Size 1 green orbs (Library) : 17 Living word tattoos (total remaining, see spreadsheet) : 25 Created items (X winner seizes X) : 110 Created items (Loving X X) : 22 Computer components (Various) : 80 Mundane books with titles that amused someone : Over 20 Recovered artifact (stone tablet) : 1 Friendly footshells : 3 Friendly ink crows : 1 0 (The crows cannot be trusted) Chapter 256 ¡°In this world you can be oh so smart or oh so pleasant. For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.¡± -Elwood P. Dowd, Harvey- _____ Sarah had become familiar with her basement recording studio to the point that she was almost worried that she was here too often. Almost. The thing was, if she wasn¡¯t here, she¡¯d just be out there talking to the same people about the same things anyway. In the absence of social contact, Sarah would track it down like some kind of friend-seeking missile. But since she now held the power to summon people at will to her demesne, that kind of legwork wasn¡¯t needed. Interesting conversations were just an interview away, and with the added benefit that she could get useful information to the rest of the Order faster than just telling them one at a time. Not that she wasn¡¯t sometimes out there, doing stuff. Sarah still went on delves, and spent half her free time in Clutter Ascent, and had friends, and participated in half the events that happened around here. Her idea of downtime was kinda exhausting for a lot of people, and Sarah knew that, and tried to not inflict it on anyone against their will. Which made Anesh¡¯s new form something delightful for her, because her friend who previously had a fairly low tolerance for constant conversation now still did, but he had it four times over. Sarah could hang out with Anesh as much as she wanted, and he could tag out when he needed to, and it was great because it meant that fewer Anesh got left out. Also it meant he was often available for her show when she asked. ¡°Today!¡± Sarah projected for the microphone in a way that Anesh smiled at sitting across from her. He¡¯d gotten used to it by now, but it still was hard to not notice how her voice changed. ¡°Part one of a new series on transhumanism! We have with us Anesh! Anesh, how¡¯re you doing?¡± ¡°Thrilled and anxious.¡± Anesh answered honestly. ¡°James says that a lot. You two are perfect for each other.¡± Sarah said with a smile that was almost powerful enough to be picked up on the recording just by itself. ¡°So, welcome back to the show.¡± ¡°Thanks. And it is actually fun to be here.¡± Anesh relented with a chuckle. Sarah nodded. ¡°So today, instead of the normal kind of discussion on what¡¯s been going on, what new events are unfolding or magic is being put into action, I want to focus on something specific, and Anesh-centric.¡± ¡°Uh.¡± ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s simple!¡± Sarah¡¯s beaming look was reassuring enough that Anesh actually believed her. ¡°I¡¯d like you to tell me, and our listeners, what it¡¯s like to be multiple people.¡± Anesh held up his hand, slowly rotating his palm in a gesture of disagreement. ¡°Well, first off, I¡¯m not multiple people.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m not even multiple people in this studio. Like, there¡¯s only one of me here.¡± ¡°For those that don¡¯t know, and would like a quick introduction,¡± Sarah plowed forward, ¡°Anesh has the ability to make more of himself. One of those orange absorb tasks from before we copied everything just to be safe. I think it involves larceny?¡± ¡°Theft, yes.¡± Anesh nodded to her, crossing his arms as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. ¡°Stealing license plates. The stealing part is actually baked in, so it¡¯s.. awkward. At best.¡± It may have been awkward, but Sarah found it amusing enough that it didn¡¯t even scratch her good mood. ¡°So currently, there are four of you, yes?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m keeping it there for now.¡± Anesh said simply. ¡°Well¡­¡± Sarah prompted, spreading her hands. ¡°Why don¡¯t we start there? Wanna tell us about why that is? Seems like a good portal to the experience of having several bodies.¡± Anesh took a little while to compose his thoughts. Sarah had made it clear to him earlier that they could cut anything, so if he needed a minute for a question, there was nothing wrong with being silent while he pondered. She could spend that time looking over her list of questions, or thinking about what she was going to try feeding her pet raincloud later as part of their ongoing dietary experiments. Eventually, Anesh pulled his hands away from where he¡¯d pressed fingers together in front of his mouth, and spoke. ¡°Alright.¡± He said. ¡°The first thing is, I feel like I should be clear that I don¡¯t have several bodies.¡± ¡°Are you sure? I¡¯ve met some of you.¡± Sarah lightly prodded the conversation. ¡°Mmh. Yes, well. You have. But the thing is, there¡¯s nothing magical that makes all of me, me.¡± Anesh thought about what he¡¯d just said, and regretted it instantly. ¡°What I mean is, when I complete that Officium Mundi quest and get a duplicate of myself, they appear as me, right then and there. We¡¯ve got the same memories up to that exact point. But, we don¡¯t keep the same memories. If I come into the Lair the next day, and the new me stays home and watches old seasons of The Amazing Race - ¡° ¡°The new you is gonna have a lot of fun!¡± ¡°-probably. Not as much as the me that gets to play with magic. But the point is, I won¡¯t have twenty episodes of television stuck in my skull, and new me won¡¯t know anything new about orb interactions. We¡¯re different people now. If someone makes a really good argument that changes my mind on something, then the differences between my personalities is going to start to diverge faster and faster.¡± Sarah quirked an eyebrow as she met Anesh¡¯s eyes. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t happen to you.¡± ¡°No, because skulljacks exist, for some reason.¡± He added the last part in a mutter that Sarah would later decide to cut from the episode. ¡°So all versions of me, every couple days, sync up our memories and become the ¡®same person¡¯ again.¡± He made air quotes that would not be picked up by the mic. ¡°So all of me are sort of interchangeable. At least, on a long enough timeline.¡± ¡°How¡¯s it feel?¡± Sarah asked quietly. ¡°Which part?¡± ¡°Any of it. All of it. What¡¯s it like to suddenly be a new Anesh? Since, I mean, you would have lived that experience several times, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, five or so.¡± Anesh nodded, grimacing. ¡°It¡¯s not bad? I used to lie to people and tell them that I didn¡¯t know which of me were the copies, but I knew. All of me knew. It¡¯s actually really disorienting; from my perspective, I just teleported about three feet, and all my clothes are gone.¡± ¡°¡­you know there¡¯s probably a market for that in the Order?¡± Sarah said pensively. ¡°Hey, you made the new telepads, right? Do you think you could make ones that-¡° ¡°Sarah, you¡¯re my boyfriend¡¯s best friend. You¡¯re also my friend too. I like you a lot. But please, please; in my limited social circle, you are the least lewd, and I would like to maintain that illusion.¡± ¡°Alright, alright. Spoilsport.¡± She giggled lightly. ¡°So, tell us about being four people.¡± Anesh smiled thinly. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He replied. ¡°Partly I want to say I¡¯ve just gotten used to it, but I really haven¡¯t. ¡®I¡¯ can get a lot more done than I¡¯d expect, even now. Actually, you¡¯ll understand this; how many personal projects do you have going, right this moment?¡± ¡°Eight.¡± Sarah answered without hesitation. ¡°Cool. Right. I should have guessed you¡¯d be worse than even me. Well, imagine if every time you checked, you¡¯d made progress on a couple of those, without actually doing anything. And then you think about it, and you remember doing the work, but it¡¯s a bit distant.¡± Anesh¡¯s smile turned wry and he tilted his head back. ¡°The real problem is that I have every set of memories.¡± ¡°That seems like the perk of how you¡¯re doing this.¡± Sarah pointed out. Anesh shrugged, fidgeting with his microphone cord until Sarah leaned over to bat at his hand. ¡°It¡¯s not horrible, but it does mean that I have a weird grasp on time. If someone talks to me it can feel like it¡¯s been several days since we last spoke, even if it¡¯s only been a few hours. Also, every one of me is a full, valid person.¡± ¡°Well obviously. Also I¡¯m really glad you¡¯re not lying about that anymore!¡± ¡°Heh. Thanks.¡° Anesh sighed. ¡°But here¡¯s the thing; all of me are living every part of their own lives. Which means that if one Anesh is¡­ I dunno, grinding out sets of practice calculus equations in preparation for finals week¡­¡± ¡°Yes, terrible.¡± Sarah solemnly agreed. Anesh snorted. ¡°Hush. It¡¯s fine. But that Anesh will have done that. And so when they share memories with me, and I¡¯ve been doing a delve with friends, what happens?¡± Sarah thought about it, then gave a hopeful answer. ¡°You feel like you had a good experience while still retaining the knowledge from the tedious one?¡± ¡°Afraid not.¡± Anesh shattered her pleasant illusion. ¡°I now remember two days. One where I was happy, one where I wasn¡¯t. And with four of me, this problem becomes¡­ socially awkward.¡± Sarah gave him a concerned look as he continued. ¡°It¡¯s, again, not the worst thing. And I can just do stuff with multiples of myself, no one seems to care. Even mundane people just assume I¡¯m an irritating set of twins or something if I go out to eat outside the Lair. But usually, one of me is going to have memories of spending time with friends, going on a date with a partner, doing a podcast, doing something interesting. And the other three are going to remember a normal day, maybe a slightly lonely day, because everyone who I¡¯m friends with has a good chance of already having talked to an Anesh that day.¡± ¡°That¡¯s horrible!¡± Sarah said without thinking, ignoring that Anesh had just said it wasn¡¯t. ¡°Well, I imagine it would be horrible for you. I don¡¯t mind so much?¡± Anesh countered. ¡°But I¡¯m okay being alone sometimes. It is why I don¡¯t keep making more of myself, though.¡± ¡°I can imagine!¡± Sarah added, before glancing down at her notes. ¡°So, what¡¯s dating like as a¡­ actually, what¡¯s the term for a person like you?¡± Anesh grabbed onto the lifeline of the second question. ¡°One of those is a fascinating thing to think about.¡± He nodded as he tried to forget the first question. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not a hive mind, so that¡¯s out. I¡¯m also not a gestalt, since I¡¯m just a single person, but with¡­ lots of that single person. James likes to call me a collective, but I feel as if I¡¯m closer to a co-op. A co-op of Anesh. Because each of me could be a perfectly viable Anesh on their own. Or¡­ well, a viable anyone, really, if they decided to change their names.¡± ¡°Has that happened to you?¡± Sarah asked, and Anesh silently congratulated himself for dodging the question about his romantic life. ¡°Not yet. And it might not ever, if I¡¯m careful. Here¡¯s something about either humans in general, or me in specific, that might interest any psychologists inexplicable listening to our internal update podcast. People take more than a few days to change their mind on something. Even with new information, or a strong debate that convinces me, I don¡¯t just suddenly snap to a new position. But if I went long enough¡­ yeah, I assume that each me would end up as different people. We¡¯re shaped by our experiences, right? I don¡¯t think I¡¯m immune to that. I don¡¯t think anyone is. We aren¡¯t these immutable blocks of persona that the world flows around, none of us are. I¡¯m actually absurdly lucky to have met James, and to have everyone here around me too, because all of that helped me be better than I think I would have been otherwise. Not that I hated myself or think I was wrong about anything in particular, just that I think we should always be open to improving.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re not ¡®resetting¡¯ when you sync up?¡± ¡°Oh, goodness no. I still change. It¡¯s just a little bit weirder. A little more consensus-based. I think. It really hasn¡¯t been that long, and it¡¯s not like I can compare myself to anyone else like me, sadly.¡± Anesh shook his head, lips pursed. ¡°Does that make you resistant to infomorphs? Or more susceptible? To one of them spreading through your different minds, I mean.¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Like if Planner started with one of you, would you end up ¡®kicking out¡¯ Planner from the influence of the other three minds overwriting them, or would they just spread faster?¡± ¡°Probably the second one¡­¡± Anesh thought about it. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯d just spread. Because I don¡¯t actually overwrite anything, all my memories are additive. Also why are we theorycrafting about my weaknesses? Is this a secret twist in the podcast where we talk about how to kill a transhuman?¡± Anesh gave Sarah a narrow eyed stare. ¡°Are you plotting against us?¡± ¡°And that¡¯s just about all we have time for with this interview!¡± Sarah declared. ¡°Just one last question though.¡± Her gaze softened, putting Anesh at ease as she shrugged his direction. ¡°Would you give it up?¡± Anesh laughed. ¡°How?¡± He asked. ¡°I mean, I could stop making copies, but¡­ at this point? It¡¯s an everyday occurance. It¡¯s my life. You might as well ask me to give up an arm. Which I could do easier than most people, admittedly, but still. I like me, I don¡¯t need less of me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s really sweet.¡± Sarah said earnestly. ¡°Now! We¡¯re done here! Everyone join me for part two tomorrow, where we absolutely won¡¯t discuss Anesh¡¯s secret weaknesses in more detail!¡± Anesh folded his arms and grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s not hard, you just have to stop making white sedans and I¡¯m out in the cold.¡± _____ James let the warm water of the Order¡¯s pool sized bath buoy him as he listened to Sarah¡¯s podcast. Across from him, Alanna tried to dunk Anesh in a friendly tackle while his boyfriend sputtered water and tried to explain himself. Not that he needed to. Sarah¡¯s powers were vast and terrifying, and her ability to get someone to give a good explanation in an interview, the way she gave them time and space and the right prodding questions, was really impressive. A lot of this was stuff James and Anesh had sort of talked about from time to time; James knew for example that this Anesh who¡¯d just come back with him from a week in the Ceaseless Stacks and was as happy as he was to be able to take a plunge in the hot waters of the Lair¡¯s basement wasn¡¯t the original. The ¡®first¡¯ Anesh, though they would never say the ¡®real¡¯ one, had died. And that little tidbit had been left out of the interview, possibly for good reason. James and Alanna knew. And they didn¡¯t give a shit. Anesh was Anesh. That was all that mattered to them. But even still, it was really cool to hear his boyfriend talk more proactively about what it felt like to be himself, what it meant to live a different kind of human life. And James did feel like he¡¯d learned something important about his partner. ¡°Don¡¯t tell people your secret weaknesses!¡± Alanna was yelling as she dove at Anesh. James coughed out a laugh as every serious and emotionally personal thought he was having was blown out of his head by the sight of Anesh slipping under the surface of the water to dodge Alanna¡¯s attempted body slam. It was very cute. It was also very something else; a large part of the Order, James included, were adapting easily to the public nudity of the baths, but that didn¡¯t mean that he didn¡¯t enjoy watching his girlfriend show off just how much control she had over her absurdly well built form. Still. He felt a mild need to intervene. ¡°Please don¡¯t drown Anesh.¡± James asked as he floated by. ¡°As we¡¯ve just heard, he¡¯s less replaceable than you¡¯d think.¡± ¡°Bah!¡± Alanna proclaimed. ¡°Don¡¯t encourage him!¡± ¡°Encourage him to what?¡± James asked, legitimately confused. ¡°Sarah said this was part one of a series of transhumanist interviews so I bet you a hundred orbs that Anesh is gonna be the most reasonable of all of them. I want him reasonableeeeee!¡± James¡¯ words morphed into a surprised squawk as from the depths of the pool Anesh tugged on the feathered tail that Zhu had manifested and was using as a rudder to steer James while he floated. Zhu was still sleepy all the time from his suspected Underburbs infection, and awkward all the time whenever Alanna was around, but he had wanted to experience a hot bath, and didn¡¯t need to breathe. James, for his part, couldn¡¯t actually feel the tail itself, but he could feel the way he was yanked downward. ¡°James help Alanna is bullying me!¡± Anesh exclaimed as he came up for air, climbing up a flailing boyfriend. ¡°Just hide underwater!¡± James sputtered. ¡°You don¡¯t need to breathe!¡± Anesh stared at him, and then took a long breath without breaking eye contact, before slipping back below the surface. ¡°Well I¡¯m never gonna get him now, thanks.¡± Alanna laughed, swimming directly into James and wrapping around him in a tangle of limbs. ¡°I assume he¡¯ll get bored eventually.¡± James said, looking down through the slightly cloudy hot water to where Anesh was relaxing on the bottom of the pool, a grin on his face as he showed off. They relaxed for a while longer. There was only so long a human could spend in a warm bath, even this one, but James was intent on enjoying himself. The whole place had gotten an upgrade at some point; there were six of the large pools now, and the artistic riot of copper pipes overhead could dispense water of any temperature on command to any of the baths in a series of waterfalls. The tile mosaic on the wall of a familiar strider with his eye covered by a towel had been joined on the opposite side by a more finely detailed mosaic of a reclining camraconda that somehow managed to look exasperated even rendered in tile. Towel racks and a million soap dispensers were now installed in permanent spots and not just thrown in as an afterthought, the low warm lights made the whole place feel like a dream, and the presence of a hundred purification brooches let it all stay clean without the need for any extra chemicals. It was great. James loved it. This was the sort of thing that magic should enable; just a few small tweaks to reality, and you could have this. Eventually though, they had to get out. Partly because other people wanted to use the baths, partly because they had other stuff to do. They got dressed, purified the pool - the brooch, James noted, was close to leveling up, which was always satisfying - kissed each other goodbye, and updated the chart as they left to show their pool was open now. Leaving behind the sounds of flowing water and cheerful conversation from the others in the bathhouse, James felt refreshed. The expedition to the Stacks had been long, tiring, draining, and also long. And while he knew he¡¯d grown a lot since he¡¯d first stumbled across the door to Officium Mundi, it was still a jump to go from a couple hours of hiking and a few combat encounters in a delve, up to a delve where the walking never stopped and the encounters happened on their own timetable. But he¡¯d done it, and now a day after they¡¯d been back, he already felt excited for the next one. Already, plans were getting started for that one. The roster was being adapted based on changing circumstances, the lessons from the Stacks expedition were being applied, and in a week, James would be again leading another large group through a dungeon threshold. But until then, he had small things to check up on, and a role as a paladin to fill. While he was part of the planning, he wasn¡¯t the only one, so James was left to just experience a low level of anticipation as he went about his day. It felt a little weird to sit down in his office to meet with Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust while his hair was still damp, but James rolled with it. ¡°So!¡± He greeted the two women who were already at his desk and talking in low voices. ¡°What¡¯s on the table today?¡± ¡°I am exceptional at my job.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said, the camraconda¡¯s rectangular head tilting upward as she allowed herself a moment of pride. Karen handed James a folder. ¡°To elaborate, our first transfer has gone through with the materials processing company that we¡¯re using to offload the endless font of platinum we¡¯re making.¡± She shook her head slowly. ¡°Research has four different requests for ways to alter the space around the duplication ritual, by the way. All of them would supposedly make it easier to transport the platinum, as opposed to what we do now, which is to move over a ton of material by hand every time we activate it.¡± ¡°All of them are unstable and Research should not be trusted. Chevoy and Mike would affix rocket engines to themselves if they thought it would let them run errands faster.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust opined. ¡°We wanted you to know they would be asking, and we would like to ask that you tell them no, and simply assign one or two extra sets of hands to move things.¡± ¡°Noted.¡± James agreed with the women instantly. And not just because Research¡¯s investigations into spatial warping had blown up his car that one time. ¡°So, they¡¯re satisfied with buying from us?¡± ¡°More than.¡± Karen agreed. ¡°At thirty million dollars for a ton of already processed and unmarked material, they are getting an amazing deal under current market rate.¡± ¡°Jesus. What do we even do with thirty million dollars?¡± James muttered without thinking. ¡°Pay taxes.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust told him. ¡°According to our legal team. It is to our advantage to not aggravate the IRS at this time. So we should pay taxes. After which point we will have twenty six million in profit.¡± James blinked in confusion. ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem¡­¡± James looked at Karen and saw she already had an answer prepared for the question he was going to ask. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°The more money you have, the fewer taxes you pay. You already know this, you just don¡¯t like to think of yourself as ¡®one of the rich¡¯. You will need to get used to it.¡± Karen informed him. ¡°Regardless. The money will go into our general fund, along with all future sales as well. This income stream will enable a number of projects, and I would like you or another paladin to sit in on some meetings this week before everyone hews off again to risk their lives.¡± ¡°There aren¡¯t any other paladins yet.¡± James said. ¡°Which I aim to fix after this series of delves and getting to know a few people closer.¡± ¡°Well then it will be you.¡± Karen said simply. ¡°I have meetings scheduled for discussing beginning to construct our own transport company, our applied power plant technology, new hiring procedures and a refocusing of Response¡¯s mandate, and large scale construction of totemic living spaces.¡± She met James eyes. ¡°You are about to tell me this seems like a lot.¡± James rose to the bait in protest. ¡°It does seem like a lot!¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust nodded with a light hiss. ¡°This is what happens when there is only one paladin.¡± She said. ¡°Find more. Make more.¡± ¡°I¡¯m working on it!¡± James retorted. ¡°Alright, alright. I can¡­ probably do this. I¡¯ll need to get Sarah to give me a nap at some point probably. When are these?¡± ¡°Over the next several days, though not tomorrow, as I am taking a personal day.¡± Karen said. Texture-Of-Barkdust irised her camera eye in the camraconda version of an eye roll. ¡°Yes, as am I, because I am helping you move.¡± ¡°You¡¯re moving?¡± James asked. ¡°I guess¡­ do you need any help?¡± Karen gave him a thin smile. ¡°Thank you, no. I don¡¯t need many of my personal effects, and the furniture of my home¡­ well, the next buyers are welcome to it. As it turns out, you¡¯ve directed the creation of some rather comfortable spaces here in the Lair, and it seems more convenient.¡± ¡°Yes, convenient.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust irised her lens again. James looked between the two of them. Then pressed the tips of his index fingers together in front of his lips. ¡°Are you two¡­ ¡± He started to ask if they were moving in together. Then realized that out of everyone in the entire Order, Karen and Texture were probably the two whose personal lives he was least connected to, and who would probably appreciate the questioning the least. ¡°Nevermind. Let me know if you need someone big and strong to carry boxes so I can foist that job off on Alanna. What¡¯s the meeting schedule, so I can plan around it?¡± The look Karen gave James was one of quiet and simple gratitude for dropping the personal questions. And it reminded him that she was still a person, with her own thoughts on what was awkward or personal, what was worth talking about, what was the kind thing to do. She immediately took that small personal insight that she¡¯d opened up to James and exploited it by dumping a list of dates and times on him. Friday morning, a meeting about space elevator safety tolerances and prioritization for who they wanted to contact about their near-working prototype first. Friday afternoon - a schedule already so ambitious that James wanted to crawl in a hole and cry - was an open forum about Response activities, statistical analysis of their impact, meetings with the civilian oversight board, and an evaluation of their scope and mission statement. Saturday afternoon was simple by comparison; working out the logistics of redoing the apartments that they had a better floor plan for now - James personally believed strongly in ripping the bandaid off whenever possible - followed by, after a short break, a meeting with most of the same people and a fresh batch of legal experts to discuss large scale orange totem construction with an eye toward opening them to outsiders. Sunday was hiring, and James wasn¡¯t the only one doing interviews, but he was part of the process, and he looked forward to that. Monday, because the list kept going, was an early morning security discussion on how to use the logisticors for transport without opening up the world to a new kind of warfare, and then a mid morning meeting with an actual representative from the local electric company to ask them if it was okay to wire a magical power plant into their grid and if the Order could get paid for that maybe. James was smart enough to know that no amount of enhanced memory was going to save him here. Fortunately he had a planning program in his skulljack braid, which he filed it all into. Then, through an effort of will, he refrained from openly sobbing, and thanked the two women for their time and help. ¡°Zhu.¡± James said quietly when they were out of his office. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of fleeing the country. Want to come with me?¡± ¡°Oh thank you yes please.¡± Zhu¡¯s words were a rush of relief as the navigator manifested a small part of himself in a dusty glow. ¡°I¡¯ll book us plane tickets, I think I can do that. You grab the emergency bag Alanna put in your closet, and make us an escape playlist.¡± ¡°I¡¯m thinking Banditos as the first song.¡± James nodded, making no motion to move from his seat where he had slumped back against the padding. Zhu¡¯s eye watched James for a moment before the navigator imitated a sigh. ¡°Oh. We¡¯re not running at all.¡± He said. ¡°Well fine. But I¡¯m going to sleep through every one of those meetings.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fair. I might too.¡± James said. _____ ¡°Welcome back to part two of the series introducing us to the more transhuman people in the Order!¡± Sarah¡¯s cheerful voice filled the recording studio perfectly, setting everyone who heard it at ease. ¡°Today we have another special guest, Marlea!¡± Everyone on Sarah¡¯s show was a special guest. She¡¯d grown up with an exposure to Mister Rogers, and now that she had the chance to echo that great man¡¯s words, she took the chance whenever she could. ¡°Thanks.¡± One of the two bodies sitting on the other side of the table said. ¡°Now, just to get something out of the way,¡± Sarah started, ¡°can you introduce yourself, but in a way that minimizes confusion?¡± Marlea gave a mirrored smirk. ¡°Sure. Hi, the voice you¡¯re hearing right now is me, Marlea.¡± Then the other body leaned in closer to the microphone, ¡°And so is this voice.¡± They pulled back while the first one kept talking. ¡°I tend to use this one for longer conversations, so you¡¯ll mostly be hearing me, unless I need to sing harmony for myself.¡± Sarah shot her a thumbs up at the perfect take. They¡¯d actually planned that one, just for clarity. ¡°Now if I understand correctly - which I should because I¡¯ve read the essays you¡¯ve written - you are one person, right?¡± ¡°Yes! Also I¡¯m so glad someone read those. I worked hard on them.¡± One of Marlea¡¯s bodies sighed in deep satisfaction while the other kept talking. ¡°In case anyone doesn¡¯t get it yet, I used to be two people, and now I¡¯m not.¡± Both bodies in unison tapped the skulljack braids at the back of their heads that were far more complicated than the Order¡¯s standard loadout. Sarah dramatically cleared her throat. ¡°No one can see you do that. But tell us about the skulljack component.¡± Marlea nodded, one of her blushing slightly. ¡°Right, sorry. Uh, yeah, I use the skulljack connection to live in a permanent state of combined consciousness. The two people I used to be chose to give up being individuals, to be one new person. And I know everyone finds that spooky or some sh¡­ can I swear on this podcast?¡± ¡°I¡¯d prefer not!¡± ¡°Some¡­ thing.¡± Sarah nodded vigorously. ¡°Not to shove my own experiences into the conversation too much, but a lot of the Officium Mundi survivors are going to remember that state of existence as a bit of an existential nightmare. Is it not for you?¡± The look Marlea gave her was one part smile, one part sad frown, and Sarah realized she was going to need to learn how to interpret emotions going forward from people who could express multiple complex thoughts at once. ¡°There was a moment at the start when they weren¡¯t sure if it was a good idea, and were just trying it out to see what it was like. But once I was here¡­ I like being me. Neither of my members did. Do you know how it feels to hate yourself?¡± The words came out like they weren¡¯t supposed to, in a kind of quiet whimper, and Sarah held up a hand to her production assistant. ¡°Hey.¡± She said softly. ¡°If you want, we can cut that part, and move on.¡± Marlea took a pair of deep breaths. ¡°No, sorry, I¡¯m good. Uh¡­ can I try saying it again but without sounding like a little bitch about it?¡± ¡°Ssssure.¡± Sarah nodded, and her assistant gave her a thumbs up. ¡°Okay. Go ahead.¡± ¡°Right. Do you know how bad it feels to hate yourself?¡± Marlea asked again, using her other voice that came across steadier for the moment. ¡°To go from that, to feeling comfortable, feeling free, it¡¯s great. And yeah, I know it spooks people sometimes, but it¡¯s hard to care when I feel personally good about it.¡± ¡°Honestly? I think feeling good about who and what you are is the number one thing the Order wants for people.¡± Sarah said with a giggle. ¡°We¡¯ve got shaper substance surgery already for ratroaches and our trans friends, so psychic surgery for loving yourself doesn¡¯t seem that weird!¡± ¡°No shit?¡± Marlea asked. ¡°Wait, shit, I¡¯m not supposed to swear. No¡­ no kidding? I knew about the ratroach thing but not the other part. That¡¯s cool.¡± ¡°It is!¡± Sarah agreed. ¡°So, what¡¯s it feel like? Being¡­ actually, let¡¯s do terminology first. What are you?¡± ¡°Oh, good question.¡± Both bodies nodded with different levels of exuberance. ¡°So, singular pronouns for myself, each individual part is referred to as a member component, or just member. I phrase it that way because it¡¯s entirely possible to run into future examples where someone might join me that has no body, or multiple bodies.¡± ¡°Love some good future proofing.¡± Sarah agreed. ¡°Exactly. You get me.¡± Marlea smiled happily as part of her drummed fingers on the back of their chair. ¡°As for how it feels? It¡¯s kinda weird in some places. Uh¡­ I don¡¯t have a good waterproofing solution, so taking baths is disorienting cause I have to go back to being individuals. I have no fffffreaking idea how to date anyone like this, because I think anyone who¡¯d be into it would probably also be just the worst kind of guy? Like, I imagine¡­ actually, I can¡¯t swear, how horny can I be?¡± Sarah threw her arms up over her head. ¡°Oh I dunno, just go for it.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m imagining that anyone who¡¯d be ¡®into¡¯ me because of the hive mind thing is probably a dude thinking he can score infinite threesomes? But both components of myself were already used to being disappointed by guys, and while having two bodies opens up some fun opportunities, it doesn¡¯t actually change the human desire for intimacy or anything like that. Might make it worse! Or, not worse¡­ uh¡­ more potent? I do think it¡¯d be a lot harder to get stuck in an abusive relationship though cause I know I¡¯ve got perspective now. But also it¡¯s probably harder anyway since I¡¯m a battle hardened knight at this point, so maybe I¡¯m mixing those two things up. Actually, that¡¯s sorta the thing, you know? I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m just me. I like me, and I like me being like this, but it¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯m just Marlea. It¡¯s hard to separate what it feels like to be a hive mind from what it feels like to be alive.¡± ¡°That¡¯s actually really sweet.¡± Sarah said with a sappy smile on her face. She leaned forward on her elbows to ask the next question. ¡°So how close were your member components before doing this? Or becoming you?¡± ¡°Oh! Not really that much at all.¡± Marlea laughed. ¡°Actually here¡¯s something most people will find either comforting or horrifying; the lines between individuals are actually really thin. You¡¯ve all got more in common than you think, and slipping into a hive mind state that¡¯s just accepting and loving is really easy. I think it¡¯ll catch on in the future. Oh, though I should say, right now I¡¯m speaking for humans; I haven¡¯t added any other species yet. Open to it though!¡± Sarah looked down at the little booklet she¡¯d had printed off. ¡°Yeah, I have one of your essays here where you talk about the implicit hierarchy of adding people to an existing hive. Are you still looking to add people anyway?¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Yup!¡± Marlea said while her other half gave a background ¡°Oh yeah.¡± ¡°I think it¡¯d be cool to get more perspectives on life, but also to have more¡­ more flexibility? More of me, more of a new way of being. Also just more minds; each physical brain still does work, so with two of me, I can think two things at once, which is uh¡­ it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s hard to get used to, but it¡¯s so cool. Uh¡­ I know this is supposed to be sort of a neutral look, but I actually do think we should stop¡­ stop acting like humanity ¡®got there¡¯ and that we should stop looking for new ways to be. God, girl, we¡¯ve got magic, and we¡¯re sitting around worrying about property codes and not about how we could turn our world into a single beautiful mind.¡± ¡°Quick question!¡± ¡°I¡¯m not gonna try to eat everyone, no. Ugh. Everyone asks that.¡± ¡°Personally,¡± Sarah said with a shrug, ¡°I trust you. I¡¯m just asking for the audience. Which might be a flimsy excuse!¡± The two women shared a laugh. ¡°Alright, last question. You obviously think it¡¯s worth it, so I won¡¯t ask that. But is there a trade off of some kind? Do you give something up to be you?¡± Marlea thought about it, one of her bodies mouthing words to herself as she took advantage of Sarah¡¯s dead air policy. ¡°Okay.¡± She said quietly, eventually. Both of her components speaking in unison for this answer. ¡°It¡¯s funny? Both of these parts, when they became me, gave up a huge part of what we think of as being human. Gave up being individuals. Gave up being ¡®free¡¯, maybe. But they also gave up their fear, their isolation, their self-loathing. But it¡¯s not like I¡¯m some magical solution. Just because Maria and Leah aren¡¯t afraid of dying or being alone anymore, doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not scared of new stuff. I¡¯m scared I don¡¯t know what I am, scared I¡¯m screwing something up in totally new ways, scared I might change into something even I won¡¯t recognize.¡± She shrugged, and one of her dropped back while the other kept talking. ¡°So I guess I didn¡¯t really give up anything. I just traded in my insecurities for new ones. More fun ones!¡± ¡°That¡¯s absolutely the kind of optimism that I love to see, but also, I¡¯m gonna try to get you to go to therapy after we¡¯re done recording.¡± ¡°Sarah we have the same therapist, and she has no idea what to do with me.¡± One of Marlea rolled her eyes and crossed her arms while the other spoke. Sarah laughed. ¡°Alright! This has been part two of our series of interviews! I hope everyone had a good time, tune in next time when we discuss how to find a therapist as a form of life yet unseen on this world! Thanks for listening everybody.¡± ¡°And anyone who wants in on me, DM me!¡± Marlea tried to add at the end, with a level of cheerful eagerness that rivaled Sarah¡¯s own. _____ James was shaking with laughter as the podcast came to an end. His project abandoned for a moment as he just sagged against the workbench and enjoyed the antics of his friend and her interviewee. The last time he¡¯d talked to Marlea, he¡¯d sort of gotten the impression that she didn¡¯t exactly like him much. To be fair, it had been in a tense situation, but the version of her that he got to hear when she opened up to Sarah and the microphone was a world different from the version that was being mildly sarcastic to him in a ruined gravel lot by a now-immolated farmhouse. When he stopped laughing to the empty basement room, James let out a long hoot of breath as he shook his head and found he couldn¡¯t stop smiling. Sarah¡¯s way of approaching the world was just so nice. She was the ideal citizen of his utopia, in a way. The way Marlea looked at being a hive mind was also different than James had expected. It wasn¡¯t even close to what he and his loves shared sometimes. When he and Anesh and Alanna plugged their minds together, it was a lowering of barriers. Sharing insecurities while also making their love and commitment to each other as blazingly obvious as possible. Marlea¡¯s version wasn¡¯t even a step farther; it was a different axis entirely. She went into the process like she was running away from herselves, and then built a new person out of that foundation. ¡°I¡¯m thinking we should get in early.¡± Zhu said as James finished wiping the tiny tears out of the corners of his eyes, and refocused on his workbench. ¡°You know, before she takes over the world.¡± James rolled his eyes, which he was pretty sure Zhu could feel him doing. ¡°Two¡­ no, three things. First off, I¡¯ve met her, I don¡¯t think she¡¯s that ambitious even with two sets of ambitions. Two, how would a hive mind even add you when your manifestation can¡¯t get a skulljack? And three, you don¡¯t think we could make a competing hive mind or something? Try to take over the world faster?¡± ¡°Oh. That does sound better.¡± Zhu rustled the long orange feathers on James¡¯ arm. ¡°We could race, which I always appreciate.¡± ¡°Again, pretty sure she¡¯s not that ambitious.¡± James huffed out a laugh. ¡°Also you¡¯re pretty instantly on board with the hive mind hegemony, dude.¡± Zhu rolled his eye at James, which James could certainly feel since it was manifested on his shoulder. ¡°We need a better term than hive mind. I don¡¯t even actually speak like you and that¡¯s already getting exhausting. Also I¡¯m a ghost made out of the idea of a map! A hive mind would love to have me!¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need a hive mind for that.¡± James countered as he turned his attention back to what he was working on. ¡°I already love having you around.¡± He left Zhu sputtering as he got back to work. Right now, work was taking a box of new shield bracers, and infusing them with blue orbs to add the new ability to them. The rate of new bracer production had gone down since the Order had acquired long range mass teleport and clay pots that grew the stuff that made cures for lung cancer. But they still made a few of the things, and left them to build up charges before being depleted every few days to train them up to a more useful level. This was a fresh box, and James wanted to make sure that these ones didn¡¯t have the newest ability the Order had figured out how to add to them neglected. So he was doing this now, between meetings. Fake Stockpile was a marginally odd power, that, for the next year or so, would basically be limited to throwing out an illusion of a sword once a week. But sometimes that might be enough, so James was making sure everyone with a bracer would have that option. The weird part about enchanting Status Quo items was how, once you could sorta do it, even half-assedly, it would give you the exact same result each time. So it wasn¡¯t even that hard. He could do it while listening to podcasts. And as another blue and yellow orb pair slipped into the bracer he was working on, James added another completed item to his growing pile. According to Karen¡¯s schedule, he was supposed to be in a meeting right now. According to how James had experienced the first meeting, he was not. Like many people these days, he was familiar with the growing popularity of the phrase ¡°this could have been an email¡±, and, perhaps inspired by Sarah¡¯s efforts to show off the cooler side of their transhuman nature, James had his own version of it. ¡°This could be a .mem.¡± The Order¡¯s skulljack experts, programmers, and engineers were all still working to sort out better ways of both making and unpacking skill .mems. But when it came down to just packaging up an hour¡¯s worth of memory and impressions, you didn¡¯t need much more than a few gigs of space on a flash drive, and ten minutes of concentration. And James had made that clear after Chevoy had somehow made a discussion about a space elevator boring; packing up every piece of information from the meeting and handing it back to her, only to get a quick thumbs up that he¡¯d gotten it all accurately. He¡¯d then given Karen a similar file, though he¡¯d made sure not to filter out his boredom for that one, and she¡¯d rapidly admitted that maybe they could streamline their information distribution systems. Karen had lived her life in corporate America, and while she was an expert in her field - and several new fields which might only exist in this building - she still had some bad habits. Habits like an unhealthy PowerPoint addiction. But even Karen saw the value in having presentations given to a single person who could then process the whole thing into concentrated chunks of digital files that could be copied and handed around. Maybe she saw the value for different reasons, but she still saw it. ¡°You effectively bought a day off by causing a technological revolution. Again.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice sounded like an engine protesting a steep hill. ¡°Why are we here and not doing something fun?¡± ¡°Well I had a suggestion but you vetoed it.¡± James smirked as he finished enchanting another shield bracer. ¡°I asked if you wanted to do anything and you just smirked - yes like that! - and started to say your partner¡¯s names! That¡¯s not ¡®something¡¯, and you know what I meant!¡± Zhu rustled his manifestation tighter to James. ¡°But really. We should go out. Even just for lunch. How about walking to get lunch?¡± James stomach growled abruptly and he narrowed his eyes. Had Zhu just made him hungry? More hungry than just the suggestion of lunch could do on its own. Though lunch sounded so good that maybe he didn¡¯t need any magical powers used against him to make him want something. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± James gave in. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve got two of these left, and then we can go.¡± ¡°Excellent! I will take you somewhere.¡± Zhu proclaimed. The words got a moment of hesitation from James, and he accidentally pushed too hard on the orbs he was working with without proper focus. [+1 Skill Rank : Etiquette - Generational - Gen Z] [Problem Solved : Drivers Updated] [+1 Skill Rank : Weaponry - Wooden - Clubs] ¡°That¡¯s the most useless weaponry skill I¡¯ve ever seen and I can fight with a satchel.¡± James started to say to himself. ¡°Wait, no, Zhu you can¡¯t just decide my lunch.¡± ¡°Sure I can!¡± The navigator ominously and happily stated. ¡°Or at least, I can determine where it is! You¡¯ll see, it¡¯ll be an adventure.¡± Zhu pulled his feather¡¯s back into James¡¯ skin, reshaping himself into lines of orange light that only James could see. Arrows leading out the door of the private work room, and upstairs somewhere. With a sigh, James gave in, finished his work, and decided to follow Zhu¡¯s ¡®advice¡¯. It didn¡¯t take him very long to get into the spirit of it. By the time he was at the top of the stairs, his spirit was excited for an adventure where someone else told him what to do and he didn¡¯t have any responsibility. A thing he¡¯d more or less learned about himself on the expedition when he made Anesh give him assignments every day. He was almost out of the Lair when he ran into someone. Not that there weren¡¯t plenty of people around who gave him nods or simple greetings as he passed, but actually someone he bumped into. A short ratroach who pinwheeled their multiple arms as they reeled back from James, claws grabbing onto whatever was available to stall their fall. Whatever was available happened to be James, who grabbed the ratroach¡¯s arm and steadied them. ¡°Sorry! Are you okay?¡± He winced slightly as he expected the claws to bite into his skin, but then found with surprise that they were smooth and slightly blunted. As James righted himself and the ratroach pulled back, he also realized that he practically towered over the five foot tall person. ¡°Sorry again, have we met?¡± He asked the compact creature that had more smooth whorls of chitin than fur across the parts of themself that were exposed. The ratroach caught their breath and shuffled back from James, a soft glow surrounding their head like a visible halo. ¡°Ishah.¡± They said plainly, their voice sounding like an airy murmur. ¡°Oh. Oh!¡± James grinned. ¡°I heard you were recovering! Congratulations on the new body.¡± Briefly, he wondered if that was the proper thing to say to someone who had gone through shaper surgery. It seemed accurate enough. Ishah shrunk down slightly, the change in posture making them seem even smaller as the withered under the compliment from James. Right away James felt the kind of awkward regret he did whenever he was too forward with a ratroach around the Lair; like he¡¯d overstepped and spooked someone who was still learning how to adapt to life here. But before he could apologize, the band of light around Ishah¡¯s head solidified into a glowing ribbon that was much more visible and much more organic, and far, far longer than could have fit into that space. A dozen eyes opened across it, and the projected assignment spoke in Ishah¡¯s place. ¡°Thank you. He has worked hard on this, and appreciates the compliment deeply. Your attention and regard is-¡± While the skin around Ishah¡¯s eyes flushed neon green and he tried to flail his claws in the air around his head to dispel his companion, James bit back a laugh as his anxiety turned to amusement. ¡°No, you know what? I completely understand this. I feel this way constantly.¡± He stated. ¡°Were you heading out, or just lurking by the door?¡± Ishah¡¯s eyes were four in number, beady and dark, and unevenly spaced over his muzzle. The angles of his face, absent of fur, looked a lot more angular than most ratroaches who had it as a kind of visual camouflage of their actual shape. Those eyes locked onto James as Ishah tilted his head slightly left, opening his mouth a tiny bit but saying nothing until his infomorph partner started to glow in preparation for speaking up. ¡°Yes!¡± He squeaked. ¡°I was!¡± Tucked under James¡¯ coat, Zhu practically vibrated in amusement. James just held down a giggle. ¡°Sorry, yes to which one?¡± ¡°Lurking.¡± The ratroach said, shamefully scratching at the carpet with one of his stockinged feet. ¡°Moon said I should ask you a question.¡± ¡°Oh, sure. I was actually gonna go get lunch, do you wanna walk with me?¡± James offered, glancing slightly at the ribbon of eyes and blue light that seemed somehow far more smug than he¡¯d seen an infomorph be before, and yet felt deeply familiar all the same. Ishah had an instant answer. ¡°No.¡± And then as Moon started to shift around his head, foot after foot of the living ribbon wrapping around Ishah¡¯s shoulder and past his eyes, the ratroach relented. ¡°Maybe. Yes.¡± He amended. ¡°You actually don¡¯t-¡° ¡°We¡¯d be happy to have you!¡± Zhu cut in, the crunch of his voice muffled somewhat by the coat he was hiding under while he tried to guide James¡¯ adventure. Ishah nodded in a motion that was practically a shiver, pulling the hood of his oversized purple sweatshirt up over his head and pulling the drawstrings to the point that James wasn¡¯t sure how he expected to see. As James held the front security door open and went through the quick checkout procedure, he realized that when Ishah stuck one set of paws in his pockets and the other in his hoodie¡¯s pouch, it was actually almost impossible to tell he wasn¡¯t human. Though Moon fluttering around his head in a static position no matter what angle you looked at him from sorta ruined the illusion. James also didn¡¯t know how to have a conversation with a new ratroach, so he just led the way out of the parking lot, up the sloped hill to the main road, and down the sidewalk in the direction Zhu pointed. He figured Ishah would talk when he was ready, though the way that he flinched every time a car drove by, and used James as an obstacle when they passed a jogger walking his dog, made James wonder if maybe he should have just not pressed. ¡°Is the hood not uncomfortable on your antenna?¡± He asked after they¡¯d made it to a place where the sidewalk wound through some trees and marginally well kept greenery, away from the road. Ishah just gave him a shrug. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m not walking too fast or anything?¡± He followed up, concerned that he was moving at a speed the shorter person would have a hard time keeping up with, but James just got another silent negative. Letting the conversation lapse, James just followed Zhu¡¯s instructions for the next mile of walking. Walking outside, he realized suddenly, felt dramatically different now that he could contrast it with walking similar distances in multiple dungeons. Though he was having a hard time turning off his alertness, there was still a kind of implicit agreement with the world that nothing was going to try to kill him. It was nice. Less nice was realizing that he didn¡¯t know where the hell they were. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve driven this general area a lot in my life.¡± James started saying as he took a turn down a path that was just a line of barkchips leading past a wetland filled to the brim with cattails. ¡°And I have no idea where we are. Where are we going?¡± ¡°Lunch!¡± Zhu assured him. Not reassured, James let his stomach rumble as he decided to trust his friend for another two turns before he abandoned this. A little behind him, Ishah stayed silent. ¡°So, not to pry too much, but are you doing okay?¡± James asked Ishah as Zhu put them back on a sidewalk next to a road. Though it seemed like a residential street that got one car every six months, and there was an open grass field where there should have been houses. James wasn¡¯t even sure how this had gone for so long without being bought and developed. ¡°I mean, with the new body, the new¡­ everything, I guess. You said you wanted to ask something, is there anything you need help with?¡± Ishah swayed from side to side as he walked next to James, and the feeling he was giving off shifted from nervous and scared to something more comfortable. ¡°Everything is new, but I like this.¡± He said. ¡°I like that you let me change. I¡¯m different and weird and maybe wrong, but it feels good.¡± He didn¡¯t need any prodding from his infomorph friend to speak, though he did turn his hooded face away from James. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Of course. I¡¯m glad you like it.¡± James said. ¡°Also if you like it, then it¡¯s probably not wrong, and it¡¯s unlikely you¡¯re weird given everyone else in the Order. I think Alex was talking about trying to develop some kind of organic sonar for herself? Though I might have dreamed that. My point is, you¡¯re far from weird.¡± ¡°I did want to ask.¡± Ishah said after the conversation lapsed again. He went silent again, though James was getting used to how the ratroach seemed to wait for permission before continuing. ¡°I wanted to ask what I¡¯m supposed to do now.¡± James grimaced, letting out a low ¡°ooh.¡± Ishah turned concerned eyes on him, hood slipping back a little as they rounded a corner. ¡°I might be the worst person to ask that to.¡± James admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m supposed to do now, you know?¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Really.¡± He confirmed as he looked around at the old street they were on now, and the cluster of commercial buildings that lined the road ahead. One of which looked like a deli, and Zhu¡¯s orange arrow of light was directing him straight toward. ¡°I had no idea this was here¡­¡± James muttered before speaking up again. ¡°Look, here¡¯s a question back at you; what were you supposed to do before?¡± Ishah tensed next to him, and Moon, the infomorph lighting up as all their fluttering eyes spooled out and glared at James, took over the conversation. ¡°That is not something that should-¡° ¡°No, no.¡± Ishah¡¯s voice chimed out an interruption, and the infomorph cut off in surprise. ¡°I can¡­ I was supposed to breed, and then die.¡± The ratroach¡¯s high voice shook, but he still said the words that haunted his nightmares. In the abstract, James had read the report on the Ishah¡¯s condition when they¡¯d rescued the ratroach a long time ago. But hearing it so bluntly, and so emotionally charged, was a world of difference. ¡°I¡¯m gonna guess, offhand, that you don¡¯t want to do that.¡± He said softly. ¡°No.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t know what you do want.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Well!¡± James arced his arms over his head and stretched as he led them across the street to their target deli. ¡°Then I know what you¡¯re supposed to do!¡± Ishah hung back as James opened the door and waited for the ratroach to go in, heart now hammering as he considered that he might have to talk to a human that wasn¡¯t from the Order, but still wanting to know what James had to say to him. Pulling his hood tight and hiding his paws, he crept past. ¡°What do I do?¡± He whispered. ¡°Literally anything else.¡± James said simply. ¡°Though right now, I¡¯m gonna say maybe consider ordering a sandwich, because this place smells amazing. Though that might just be because Zhu dragged me on a two mile walk to get here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± The navigator smugly declared as he settled in to digest his own ¡®meal¡¯, and nap within James¡¯ mind. Ishah didn¡¯t actually know if James¡¯ advice applied, or was what he was looking for. But ten minutes of fidgeting and waiting later, and then a short walk back to an isolated park bench they¡¯d passed on the way here to get away from the curious eyes of the skilled but rude man running the register, he had to admit that ordering a Reuben could easily serve as his purpose for the day. They talked some more about it, and James tried to reassure the ratroach that he didn¡¯t have to do anything. That the Order¡¯s goodwill wasn¡¯t conditional on anything but that he try his best. But still. No matter how short his lifetime was so far, it had been filled with cruel expectations and violent punishments for straying. And it might take some time to change. But, as James pointed out, Ishah had changed. And just because the physical part was mostly done, didn¡¯t mean that he had to stop there. ¡°Just think on what you want. Not what you think you¡¯re supposed to want. Or supposed to do. We¡¯re all figuring stuff out, it¡¯s okay to take it slow.¡± James said, and noticed Ishah¡¯s infomorph fluttering like they were taking notes. ¡°I want¡­ to help.¡± The ratroach said, to no one at all, long after they¡¯d returned to the Lair and went their separate ways. ¡°I want to be like them, for someone else, because¡­ because I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°James didn¡¯t say we needed to know why you wanted anything.¡± Moon told him happily as they lay in the nest of pillows Ishah preferred to a bed. That was true. And a comforting thought as the reforged ratroach drifted off to sleep. _____ ¡°Part three!¡± Sarah¡¯s tone had lost none of its expressive glee since the last recorded podcast episode. ¡°Welcome back! Sometimes people start at part three of a series, so just for you, an explanation!¡± ¡°Do they really?¡± Simon interrupted. Sarah made an exaggerated shushing noise. She¡¯d gotten about halfway to knowing how to do it without it sounding awful on the recording. ¡°A series of interviews exploring the transhuman developments of some of our friends! Today, Simon!¡± Simon smiled more these days than he had for a while, but Sarah knew he was still working through some stuff. So she appreciated him being here, and had told him so up front, and she appreciated it too when he opened with ¡°Happy to be here. I¡¯m actually cisgender, though I am an ally. Trans rights.¡± ¡°So! We can¡­ wait, no. That¡¯s not what that means.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Simon played dumb, infusing a single syllable with quite a lot of playfulness. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Sarah looked down at her notes, then back at Simon¡¯s false obliviousness. ¡°Yes, you himbo impersonator.¡± She accused him. ¡°Though a direct definition is a good idea, so thank you! Transhumanism is the use of technology to create new ways of thinking and living. New, and totally valid, forms of what it means to be a person.¡± ¡°I have two more complaints with this word.¡± Simon said. ¡°You know I¡¯m supposed to ask you questions, right? That¡¯s what interviews are!¡± Proceeding undeterred, Simon just ignored that for now. ¡°We don¡¯t have a census or anything, but the Order has-¡° ¡°I can interrupt too!¡± Sarah cut him off. ¡°We do have a census kind of! And about a third of the Order is nonhuman, mostly camraconda. We¡¯re not counting the chanters yet but when we do it¡¯ll be closer to half.¡± ¡°¡­okay, well then you already know what my complaint is.¡± Simon said. ¡°It should be trans¡­person? Not transhuman. Also that word sort of implies we¡¯re trying to escape humanity or something, but really we¡¯re just changing. Also magic.¡± ¡°¡­what about magic?¡± Sarah asked after giving him a moment to know if that was all he had to say. Simon tapped his skulljack. ¡°Magic.¡± He said. ¡°Er, sorry, radio, right. Skulljacks are magic. Shaper substance is magic. Everything we use to shortcut into the fun stuff is magic, not technology.¡± Sarah nodded, and roped control of the interview back to her side. ¡°So you¡¯re not super keen on that Clarke quote about sufficiently advanced technology?¡± ¡°Not really. Because the magic we get from dungeons tends to sort of be really dumb when analyzed? It still does stuff that can be measured down to a really tiny level and I¡¯m okay with the basic respect for physics or whatever. But there¡¯s a big skip in cause and effect, even with something as simple as a skill orb.¡± Simon leaned forward unconsciously as he got into his response. ¡°So when you say transhumanism, there¡¯s two problems. The big one is excluding all the ratroaches who¡¯ve experienced taking control of their own bodies, and the slightly less big one is excluding them but because it was magic and not technology that did it. We don¡¯t really get shaper substance. We know what it does but we probably won¡¯t ever know why. But we use it anyway. And we should make sure our words aren¡¯t¡­ I dunno¡­ gatekeepy?¡± ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought of that.¡± Sarah admitted solemnly. ¡°And you¡¯re right! We should be for everyone, and that word isn¡¯t very good. Would you believe I stole it from James?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Sarah pursed her lips and ducked her head. ¡°Well I sort of did.¡± She admitted. ¡°So, what would you recommend?¡± ¡°For¡­?¡± ¡°For a better term!¡± Simon stared at her like a deer in the headlights. ¡°Why would you put me on the spot like that?¡± ¡°People think it¡¯s part of my charm. Okay, we¡¯ll sort that out later, want to move on to the big questions? Tell us a bit about yourself?¡± ¡°Please!¡± Simon¡¯s tension shifted to a different form of anxiety. He and Sarah had spoken before about how he wanted to describe himself, and also even if he wanted to. He settled on yes, because he felt like it was important, but his circumstances were still painful in a lot of ways. He¡¯d grown, learned about himself, become something he hadn¡¯t expected, and all of that was great, but he still had a hard time getting the words to start. Sarah didn¡¯t push him. They¡¯d leave a short pause in the recording, but he could take all the time he needed. ¡°Okay.¡± Simon said. ¡°My condition goes back a ways. I¡¯ve been with the Order since before we called it that. James and team pulled me out of Officium Mundi, out of a skulljack slave network, and saved my life. Not just mine, but a few other people too, who I ended up being kinda close with.¡± Simon took a breath as he recounted the story. ¡°One of them, who was also named James so I¡¯m sorry if this gets confusing, the two of us got to be really close afterward. Not romantically, exactly, but it got to the point that we were using the skulljacks to connect basically twenty four seven.¡± ¡°So a bit like Marlea?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Not really. Not exactly. We were still individuals, we were just sharing everything. I think that¡¯s different than her thing, I dunno.¡± Simon shrugged, gave a small laugh. ¡°It was comforting. You¡¯d think we¡¯d hate it after being trapped with our brains plugged in for so long. I know a lot of the other survivors do; a lot of people are fucking terrified of the skulljacks, and I get that. But for us, it just felt supportive to have someone who you knew understood. Just a little less lonely, I guess.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°I understand, cause I¡¯m one of those terrified people.¡± She said with total earnest calm. ¡°I¡¯m still learning to overcome it. Not gonna make this about me, though. Go on, please.¡± ¡°Well, that was kinda it for a while. Things were developing, we were learning to live in our weird way, it was all going okay. Then we got hit with the Status Quo retaliatory strike. And my James was the first person they shot.¡± Simon¡¯s voice twisted into a strangled squeak at the end, but he waved off Sarah¡¯s questioning look about if the should stop, and kept going. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna go into details. Because I don¡¯t want to. But he died.¡± Simon paused for effect. ¡°Mostly.¡± ¡°You were connected at the time.¡± Sarah stated, gently prompting. ¡°We were. And in a way, we still are. I caught as much of him as I could. There¡¯s a sort of modern instinct to think of our bodies as hardware and our thoughts as software, and that¡¯s fine I guess, but you know, if you have two hard drives in the same computer and you hit one with a hammer, it doesn¡¯t save all the files on it. So I tried to make a backup, as fast as I could, while he was dying.¡± Simon snorted. ¡°It sort of worked!¡± ¡°Sort of sounds better than not at all?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Especially for someone who had the option.¡± ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t actually get a chance to ask first.¡± Simon said. ¡°Also, afterward, it wasn¡¯t like I had him in my head as a ghost or anything. I had his memories, emotions, instincts, favorite food and least favorite movie, crushes, whatever. Not all of it, but a lot. But a brain can only be one person at a time, as far as I can figure out. So it¡¯s less like I¡¯m two people in one body, and more like I¡¯m¡­ like I¡¯m one person, who ate another mind, and merged it with my own.¡± Sarah did her best to not let the sadness show in her eyes. ¡°So, who are you?¡± She asked. ¡°If that¡¯s a valid question, even! Are you Simon, or James, or both, or something new?¡± ¡°Closer to both, but I¡¯m still Simon.¡± He said with a sudden laugh. ¡°I dunno if you knew my James very well, but he liked simplicity. And so, now I like simplicity. And this seemed easiest.¡± ¡°How does it feel? Is it ever too much?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just me at this point. It used to be overwhelming, but I¡­ I dunno, is it dumb to say I went through a deeply personal and semi-spiritual vision quest, came to terms with what we¡¯d become, and accepted change as inevitable? Can I just say that?¡± Simon asked, like he was reaching for validation. If anyone was going to give him that validation, it was Sarah. And she had no problem dispensing it. ¡°Of course you can say that. Is it true?¡± ¡°Mostly!¡± ¡°So, did you meet him in a dream or something?¡± ¡°¡­yes. How did you know?¡± Simon gave her a suspicious look. Sarah let out a peal of happy laughter that somehow put him at ease despite the suddenness of the laugh. ¡°Because that¡¯s how we solve problems around here! I can¡¯t believe I nailed that! Wait, no, cut that part from the final edit, maintain my aura of mystique!¡± She tried to get her assistant¡¯s attention, and was summarily ignored. ¡°So what¡¯s life feel like for you now? Has your day to day changed much?¡± ¡°What, like, tactically?¡± Simon asked, confused. Sarah eyed him to see if he was playing dumb. ¡°No no, personally. Does it make anything easier or harder, does it change how you see certain things, that sort of stuff.¡± ¡°It made me better at baseball. Also I like butts now?¡± Simon raised his eyebrows. ¡°I didn¡¯t used to. I didn¡¯t actually care, but now I care. Actually there¡¯s a bunch of stuff I care about now that I didn¡¯t really register before. But I didn¡¯t lose anything, that¡¯s the weird part. It¡¯s like if you put two people in a room and they both got to yell about their niche hobbies and then they both got super into the other person¡¯s niche hobby, except it¡¯s just me yelling at myself. Does that make sense?¡± ¡°Not yet, give me a second to process it.¡± Sarah drummed her fingers on her forehead. ¡°Okay! Kind of! Last question for you, and it¡¯s a heavy one. Ready?¡± ¡°I just spent a week in an endless library getting yelled at by belligerent crows and interrogated on my personal life by the most enthusiastic camraconda in the Order. I¡¯m prepared for anything.¡± Sarah gave him a worried line of a smile. ¡°Do you regret it?¡± Simon sucked in a short breath, though as soon as he realized that he regretted saying he was prepared, he realized something else, too. ¡°I regret that the person I was closest to in the whole world died.¡± He said. ¡°I regret that he didn¡¯t get the chance to teach me about baseball and asses the old fashioned way. But saving as much of him as I could? Do I regret that?¡± He smiled serenely, even as he found hot tears dripping down his cheeks. ¡°Never.¡± Reaching across the recording table and settling a hand over his, Sarah took a moment to make sure her own voice was steady before she finished up her own point. ¡°That¡¯s really sweet.¡± She said in a peaceful murmur. ¡°Thanks for coming on today Simon. And thanks to everyone for listening. This has been part three of our series. Join us for the next one, where we¡¯ll be continuing to look into new ways of living as we adapt to our magic and technology, and where we try to find a better word for that.¡± _____ ¡°Hey, you got a minute?¡± El¡¯s voice got James to look up from what he was reviewing as she walked into his office and sat down without waiting for an answer. James and Rufus both just observed her silently as she kicked the extra chair into position so she could prop her feet up on it, the steel toed boots that covered most of her shins getting bits of barkdust and grass on the office furniture. ¡°I do¡­¡± James admitted. Especially since there was no longer a podcast playing; El had annoyingly good timing. ¡°Get your feet off my chair.¡± He said, and then got prodded by one of Rufus¡¯ legs. ¡°Our chair.¡± James corrected without hesitation. ¡°I¡¯ll clean it up before I go.¡± El said while refusing to actually move. ¡°So I¡¯ve actually got a few things. I¡¯ve been saving up, because you¡¯re never here.¡± ¡°You literally have my personal number. You know where I live.¡± James pointed out. ¡°Just send me a message on the Order¡¯s discussion server. Send an email.¡± ¡°Ew, no.¡± El¡¯s reaction was visceral distaste at the idea of most forms of communication. Which, while James understood, he found exhausting to be on the receiving end of. Was this what he did to other people when he refused to make phone calls? He didn¡¯t want to know. ¡°Anyway, I got a tip you were actually at your desk today.¡± ¡°Yeah, one of the meetings Karen scheduled me for could not, in fact, just be a .mem.¡± James said as he reflexively accepted a sheet of printer paper from Rufus and moved it to his incoming stack. ¡°Anyway, what¡¯s up? Start with the least important thing.¡± El stopped trying to retie her hair, and let the whole mess drop around her shoulders as she crossed her arms at him. ¡°I can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ do that, dude, and you know it. I don¡¯t know how to rank things around here. Last time I thought something wasn¡¯t important it was the end of the world. Though! That¡¯s a good transition to me saying I think you sort of roundabout caused that end of the world!¡± James and Rufus both stopped pretending they were going to get any more work done, and shared an exhausted look. ¡°¡­explain.¡± James said after a long sigh. ¡°So, for the youth group, the older age bracket one, we¡¯re doing a thing on learning how to research this month.¡± El started to explain by going on a wild tangent. ¡°And some of them are working on a timeline of the Order.¡± ¡°Neat? Neat!¡± James actually thought that sounded like a great idea because he didn¡¯t remember shit about his own personal timeline, and was still pretty sure he had only been a dungeon delver for about three months. A patently false statement, but a feeling he couldn¡¯t completely shake. ¡°What went wrong?¡± El narrowed her eyes at him before she realized something. ¡°God, it¡¯s always things going wrong with you, isn¡¯t it? You never just have stuff happen, stuff only ever explodes around you.¡± ¡°Hey¡­¡± ¡°Whatever. So, the timing on this is sorta suspect, but I wanna see if you think this lines up, okay?¡± El looked at him like she was waiting for confirmation that James was paying attention, before she continued. ¡°So in order¡­ that¡¯s not a pun, Rufus stop stapler-giggling¡­ we attack Status Quo. Status Quo attacks back. We lose some people, including an infomorph that we can¡¯t remember.¡± ¡°That¡­ that probably happened, yes.¡± James forced himself to sit straighter, pushing his shoulders down against the instinct to tense up and curl into a ball at the painful memory. ¡°And I¡¯m almost certain that what¡¯s left of them became-¡° ¡°Hidden?¡± El interrupted. ¡°Yeah. So that happens. No idea why, but an eleven year old girl ends up with a fragment of the nuclear bomb of informorphs living as her younger sister. Then Ava¡¯s mom takes them to visit family on a road trip. Then, I arrive back at my hometown, about a week after they stop there.¡± ¡°Okay, yeah. I follow so far.¡± James was curious where this was going. El made a spiraling motion with her hands. ¡°Rewind slightly! Between them arriving, and me arriving, the Horizonist cult upped their activities. When you were poking your nose into things, you found it weird that they¡¯d bought so much of the town, but they really started to accelerate their acquisitions almost the day that Ava and Hidden got there. Jump forward, and the dungeon is trying to siren call them into it, while the Horizonists are hunting them.¡± ¡°Then Anesh and I arrive, at your request, I was there for this part.¡± James nodded. ¡°And while I did get hit in the head again that time, I remember that much. They were after Ava for the mechanic¡¯s whole ritual sacrifice thing. And Hidden was calling out to anyone who they had a link to, which happened to be us.¡± ¡°Yeah. They were.¡± El kicked her feet off the chair and spun to stand and start pacing the room. ¡°They were after Ava. Specifically. And you know what I was today years old when I learned? That the mechanic needed someone who was ¡®touched by the unseen¡¯ to finish his stupid creepy ritual murder shit.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± James got it. ¡°So, whoever our friend was, whose remnant ended up growing into Hidden, died because of our fight with Status Quo. And then created the conditions to kick off the mechanic and his cult¡¯s plans.¡± ¡°Pretty much.¡± El said, toying with one of the patches on her shirt. ¡°Just kinda thought you should know. I dunno if it¡¯s important.¡± James took a deep breath. He didn¡¯t even know if it was. It didn¡¯t seem super relevant to anything right now, but he could never be sure about shit like this. He was surprised to find that it didn¡¯t actually make him feel any worse; both times now, he found that the decision to throw down with Status Quo had been morally correct. The fact that one of the casualties had caused this¡­ well, even that wasn¡¯t true, was it? It didn¡¯t cause anything, it just created the circumstances where a bitter old asshole put a target on his victim. James was pretty sure that if Ava, or someone like her, hadn¡¯t shown up in time, the mechanic would have just done a casual mass murder just out of spite. He jolted as Rufus patted him on the arm, the growing stapler misunderstanding his quiet contemplation. ¡°Heh. Thanks buddy.¡± James said, petting gently along Rufus¡¯s hull. ¡°Anyway, nah, not important now. We should maybe consider telling Ava before any rumors get around, make it clear that nothing is her fault.¡± ¡°Shit, good point.¡± El said, dropping back into the chair. ¡°Anyway, second thing, dungeon stuff?¡± ¡°¡­what about it?¡± James asked. ¡°Are you doing it?¡± ¡°¡­yes? Yes. There¡¯s an expedition starting in two days. You are way too late to get on the roster.¡± James told her bluntly. ¡°Also it¡¯s not for Route Horizon, so I don¡¯t even think you¡¯d want to. But I¡¯ll save you some magic or something?¡± He offered. El rolled her eyes at him. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t look at me, I don¡¯t wanna go. But Momo¡¯s on this one, and I wanna make sure you¡¯re not gonna get my girfend killed.¡± ¡°Girfend?¡± James tried not to smirk at the mumbled word. El flipped him off, face slowly turning bright red. ¡°It¡¯s fuckin¡¯ hard to say, okay?!¡± She badly defended herself. ¡°I like this chick and don¡¯t want her to die and she already got shot and I know that sort of thing stacks up! So, like¡­ just tell me it¡¯s gonna be okay, right?¡± ¡°Hey. El.¡± James slapped his hands onto the spread of documents on his desk. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be fine. No one died on the last expedition, I¡¯ll keep Momers from doing anything stup- I¡¯ll keep her from doing anything too stupid.¡± ¡°That¡¯s weirdly reassuring.¡± ¡°I hear that a lot. Anything else before Rufus and I go back to reading resumes for teachers?¡± James asked. The girl got a distant look, like she was trying to remember something, before snapping her ink covered fingers. ¡°Right! Research is making a program to find interesting people with high potential so we can recruit them.¡± El said. ¡°Something from the emerald chips. They¡¯ve got a few versions in the works.¡± James¡¯ felt his face drop in a heartbeat, and felt as well as saw as El reacted to his sudden angry expression. ¡°Go tell them to stop doing that, right now.¡± He stated. ¡°Sure.¡± She said, placatingly serious. ¡°Do I get to know why?¡± ¡°The whole point of this, of the Order, of our ideology, is that anyone can be better. If you take away fear of poverty, fear of violence, and fear of future instability, and replace it with strong community and a little magic, anyone can be anything. Everyone has a chance to shine, and to figure out who and what they want to be.¡± James hissed out a breath as he opened up a balled fist into a clawed hand. ¡°That shit? That thing they¡¯re doing? That¡¯s the opposite. That¡¯s saying you have to be special to come play in our yard. Fuck that. Go tell them to stop. If they really want to find people we should recruit, get them to make a program that finds us kids that have trouble in school, single parents that are overwhelmed, and climate refugees.¡± James said. El stood up again and dusted off the chair she¡¯d gotten barkdust on, accomplishing absolutely nothing but getting the bits of barkdust more stuck in the cushion. ¡°You know, I think you¡¯re wrong about about maybe half the shit you say.¡± El said. ¡°Thanks¡­?¡± ¡°But I¡¯m with you on this. It felt shitty as soon as they said it, I just wanted to know why.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh. Sorry, I wasn¡¯t trying to be angry at you.¡± James apologized. El shrugged. ¡°No worries. You wanna maybe email them or something, tell them yourself?¡± ¡°I hate email.¡± James said. ¡°But thanks for letting me know. And yeah, I promise to keep Momo safe, don¡¯t worry.¡± He looked down at the stapler next to him that was gesturing in a complex pattern of pen leg motions. ¡°Rufus also promises.¡± ¡°Rufus is going, and I¡¯m not?¡± El squinted. ¡°Am I the boring one?¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who didn¡¯t want to be on delves or in fights.¡± James said. ¡°And until you tell me otherwise, I¡¯m gonna respect the shit out of that choice.¡± ¡°¡­you¡¯re a fucking weird cult leader, man.¡± El told him as she left his office. James grumbled to Rufus about that for the next twenty minutes, until the stapler finally got fed up with them not getting any work done and just started poking James with every off topic complaint he made. Chapter 257 ¡°This is a BRAINVAULT Sigma-ACTIUM-X Cranial Dreadnought (Invictus Type). It is a fortress for your skull. Your skull is now a mighty bastion. You can break anything with your skull. The only limit is your spine. Relax... The lights will attract the enemy. Help them to relax as well... Your enemies do not have a skull fortress. Their skulls are like meadows. Play in the meadows. Gather the flowers from the meadows. Gather them with electrokinetic trauma. Smell the flowers. Isn''t that nice? You are safe in your skullfort.¡± -Destiny 2, An Insurmountable Skullfort- _____ ¡°Hi there. I have a business reservation for several rooms, under Lyle?¡± James greeted the clerk at one of the several hotels in Alice Springs, Australia. He¡¯d been actually kind of surprised to learn that the town was sort of a tourist destination, and had a disproportionate number of hotels for its size. Partially because he¡¯d been here before, and really hadn¡¯t gotten that impression from it the first time around. But that was just something that could happen with first impressions of cities, James supposed; especially when you were more interested in skirting the places outside the homes and businesses, where the wilderness crept in, and the local dungeon loomed unseen. This gap in James¡¯ knowledge extended to essentially everything about the town. Like how he didn¡¯t know that it had about twenty thousand more residents than he¡¯d assumed, or that there was an airport there. Which really was his own fucking fault for not doing more research himself. He¡¯d sort of blindly trusted Momo¡¯s ongoing complaints about not being able to get a direct flight sometime in the past year, and hadn¡¯t ever needed to follow up on that because he teleported everywhere. He still didn¡¯t need to know. He¡¯d still teleported here, and they weren¡¯t going to be staying at the admittedly welcoming resort for very long. But he liked having accurate information. The hotel clerk, who had silently acknowledged James¡¯ existence before beginning to type into his computer, spoke idly. ¡°Here for a team building exercise?¡± He said like making small talk was a matter of rote. ¡°Hm?¡± James pulled his eyes back from where he was watching the rest of the group out in the parking lot. The resort wasn¡¯t really a hotel, exactly; it was a series of independent buildings that you could rent and stay in. The front lobby had a lot of scuffed white and green tile, and a feeling like it didn¡¯t belong in a time period James recognized. Or maybe that was just his cultural bias coming into play. ¡°Oh, right! Yeah, technically, something like that.¡± James answered with a smile that tried to not show off that he was making a hidden joke. A dungeon expedition in the most hostile place they¡¯d found was going to build team cohesion, after all. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got your booking.¡± The man started setting electronic keys in folded cardboard pouches on the desk between them, shifting the little silver bell aside to make room. ¡°Ten units for eight nights. We¡¯ve got your group a little split up, in two big clumps.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± James didn¡¯t see a problem, since they would probably not be in the place for most of the time. This was just a place to stay tonight, so everyone could be rested and - most importantly - exposed to the Climb¡¯s antimemetic effect in advance, so that a navigator could inoculate them. ¡°Anything else?¡± The clerk checked something on his screen. ¡°We¡¯ll need a card on file, including for the pet depo.¡± ¡°The what now?¡± ¡°Deposit.¡± ¡°No, I know what¡­¡± James waved a hand. ¡°I¡¯m not ignorant of the existence of an Australian tonal dialect, I¡¯m trying to say we don¡¯t have pets with us.¡± Cocking an eyebrow, the clerk looked at James like he¡¯d seen one too many American tourists try to get away with something. ¡°Says here you asked on the phone if we were okay with nonhuman residents.¡± ¡°Yeah, I did do that.¡± James nodded. And then, as his tired brain caught what the guy was going for, he tilted his head back with a long ¡°Oooooh. No. Sorry, I meant nonhuman sophonts. They¡¯re listed under our total guest count.¡± It felt a little bit like taking a step off of a ledge, and hoping that you¡¯d learned how to fly between the first step and the last. James was familiar with how it felt to be casual about magic and dungeon life around his home, sure. There were, at this point, at least a couple hundred people and their friends who lived and worked close enough to the Lair that they¡¯d met a camraconda or seen Momo or Nikhail do something irresponsible but funny. This wasn¡¯t quite the same. This was somewhere else. Somewhere far from home, even with the knowledge that there was just a single telepad page between him and his living room. And so James felt his pulse quicken and his words slip out a little too fast as he admitted to a random employee at a resort hotel that he was a wizard and half the people with him weren¡¯t human. ¡°Look, if you¡¯ve got a dog or something, I don¡¯t-¡° ¡°Hang on.¡± James leaned back and waved out the front doors of the hotel office. There¡¯d been a few other people out there; maintenance staff or other guests driving or biking off for the day, but the angle of the layout made it so the guy he was talking to couldn¡¯t see any of the Order milling around farther out in the parking lot. He got someone¡¯s attention, and then through a series of increasingly frustrated motions, eventually got two people walking into the front office. ¡°Whatcha need boss?¡± Ann asked, trailing after Knife-In-Fangs. ¡°Him, mostly.¡± James pointed at the camraconda and turned back to the clerk. ¡°There. Nonhuman. Not pets.¡± ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± The clerk leaned over the counter to stare. ¡°Some kind of-¡° ¡°If you call me a drone I¡¯m going to use my powers as a knight to fuck up your paperwork.¡± Knife-In-Fangs stated in his digital voice, the familiar tuned cadence of his artificial speech rendered flatly unamused. ¡°I can do that.¡± He added for emphasis. The clerk didn¡¯t stop staring. ¡°Is this like a Muppets thing?¡± He asked. Knife-In-Fangs faltered, the narrow camera of his head dipping down in a loop of a flinch as he took in the question. ¡°That one is new.¡± The camraconda admitted. ¡°Yeah, though not actually unflattering. The Muppets rock.¡± Ann informed her partner with a shrug. ¡°Was this it? Is this why we¡¯re wasting time?¡± ¡°Yeeees.¡± James said. ¡°Though I am only just now realizing I could have solved this problem by paying a pet deposit and saved the effort.¡± Knife-In-Fangs turned along with James to watch Ann stomp out, the woman unwilling to participate in the charade anymore, apparently. Then the camraconda turned back to the clerk. ¡°This has actually been an issue for me lately.¡± He said, like he was confiding in an old friend. ¡°When you appear inorganic, there is no real threshold at which you can convince someone you are a person in a short amount of time. It is hard to get service when you do not have the luxury of taking the time to seduce someone.¡± ¡°There¡¯s so much to unpack in that statement, holy shit.¡± James rubbed at his forehead before pulling out the bank card that he¡¯d been given for one of the Order¡¯s accounts. ¡°Here. Put it on this, and let¡¯s escape this situation.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± The clerk took the card without looking away from Knife-In-Fangs. ¡°So, like, who programmed this guy? Is this an art thing? Just to fuck with people?¡± ¡°I warned you.¡± Knife-In-Fangs stated cheerfully. James took his card back and swept the stack of keys in their little pouches with the wifi password off the desk. He spoke in a rapid fire staccato of words. ¡°Alright thanks for the help this has been great I¡¯m really sorry if he means that have a good night!¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± the man didn¡¯t get a chance to comment on the fact that it was midday before James was out the door, making an effort to encourage Knife-In-Fangs along with him. ¡°Sure, bud.¡± The desk clerk shrugged. That had been utterly weird, and he was really curious about the camraconda, but not curious enough to chase down a guest using a corporate account. ¡°Fucking weird day.¡± He muttered to himself as he caught a glance of one of the paper drakes being led past the office¡¯s front door. ¡°Sorry mate, I¡¯m charging the pet depo.¡± He settled on as he watched the dragon prowl by. _____ Winter¡¯s Climb presented the Order with a few unique challenges in terms of a long term delve, that the other dungeons under their control didn¡¯t. For one thing, while people could talk about it, if you looked at the mountain from Earth, and then looked away, it wiped your memory of its existence. This was problematic when you needed to move two dozen people to the spot where the dungeon tried to grab people. The solution to that one was pretty simple. Navigators could punch person-sized holes in the memeplex that kept that effect going, given a few examples and some time. Assignments could also handle it more broadly, but it was just easier to hang out and watch a beautiful Australian sunset for an evening while a few orange spirits inoculated everyone against the effect. The other problem, the one they couldn¡¯t really prepare for or test against, was that whole ¡®grab people¡¯ thing. Winter¡¯s Climb didn¡¯t exactly have a door, like the other dungeons did. Officium Mundi and the Akashic Sewer had their doors, Clutter Ascent had a trapdoor, Route Horizon had an arch of highway signs that James had been blindsided to learn weren¡¯t real highway signs and no one ever commented on that. But the Climb didn¡¯t have any kind of artificial threshold that it could tie its boundary to. So, James imagined it doing the dungeon equivalent of throwing up it¡¯s arms and going ¡°Fuck it! I¡¯ll make my own!¡± Which was why anyone who got too close got snapped up by something that would look like ball lightning, until an instant before it closed in on you and you could see the mirror surface showing somewhere cold, wet, and hostile. Someone in Research, acting on an instinct, had gotten Ethan¡¯s regular Climb team to test out using lightning rods to dissipate the effect. And it wasn¡¯t clear to James if it was more or less worrying to know that it had worked. If the lightning was gone, the gap to the dungeon was too. They¡¯d backed off on that instantly, on his orders, not wanting the Climb to think they were trying to starve it out and adapt some weird new tactic to kill their delvers. The problem with the unorthodox threshold, aside from it being fucking terrifying to experience, was that it wasn¡¯t clear if they could fit this many people in. Or how the dungeon, one of the most responsive ones they¡¯d found so far, would react. All there was to do was to try. Well, try, and be prepared with multiple backup telepads for escape. The supplies for this one were a lot more extensive. Climbing gear, pulley systems and platforms for moving supplies up cliffs, flares, portable heaters, multiple backup sets of clothing for everyone, backups for everything really. The Climb was hostile, so James didn¡¯t feel like playing fair. The third challenge was in that hostility itself. In the Ceaseless Stacks, they¡¯d just had a base camp that had been¡­ relatively safe, honestly. The Library was dangerous to roam around in, but if you just stood still, nothing really seemed to happen. So they could have a support team and a place to rest, and then send out smaller expeditions while already deep in the dungeon. The Climb? Absolutely unacceptable risk. They¡¯d need to keep together, both so no one got lost to the endless storm, and so no one got lost to the things that lived in that storm and really liked to ambush delvers. To that end, everyone had been given a crash course in real world mountaineering tactics. The skills didn¡¯t quite match up to what was needed in a dungeon, but knowing how to refind a group¡¯s trail if you got separated, how to manage a hiking line, and how to judge when it was time to get yourself out, were valuable skills anywhere. The team for this expedition was a bit different, too. It was somewhat harsh, but they didn¡¯t have the option for anyone who couldn¡¯t handle themselves this time. They also had a much more limited number of camracondas, because while camracondas absolutely could take care of themselves, they just didn¡¯t do well in mile after mile of snow that went up to their throats, and the expedition didn¡¯t have enough paper drakes coming along to carry them all. The fact that the team included a trio of paper drakes was also why they opted to telepad half the group to a spot near the Climb¡¯s illusory mountain foothill, rather than drive out to where the roads turned to rough dirt and the natural world took over from the outskirts of the tourist town. They still had to drive a little, because they needed to move their gear, and the helpers that weren¡¯t going in with them would take the vans back and wait around to pick up the delvers later when they made their escape. To them, it was a free vacation to a really beautiful part of the world. The paper drakes were a part of the Order James often kind of forgot. They were the same ¡®species¡¯ as Pendragon, but Pendragon wasn¡¯t a dungeon creation. So the fact that people had replicated what Dave had made was fascinating, especially since they seemed to have the same life cycle in a way. The creatures were smart, but smart like a particularly clever dog, not like a human. At least, as far as they showed usually. There were six of them around that were large enough to be actual mounts, being raised and cared for by their handlers, but not all of them were tactical assets. It was, James firmly believed, critical that they didn¡¯t tie the value of a life to what it offered them. And so when one of the drakes ended up being more of a pet than a delver aid, and two others staunchly refused to go to the Climb specifically, that was fine. They didn¡¯t have to. It was simple. Even if it meant this expedition only had two camracondas. The dungeon just didn¡¯t care if it wasn¡¯t fair to people without legs, which was, at best, quite rude. ¡°Alright.¡± James arched his arms over his head, stretching out as he repeated his statistically favorite word. ¡°Head count. Let¡¯s make sure no one got left behind!¡± He commanded the people standing around him on the red rock and scrub grass. The actual expedition leader, Ethan, started moving past everyone and checking them off on his list. James was here for moral support, when it came to the process, he deferred to the guy who had done the first eight hours of their trip over fifty times. ¡°Arrush isn¡¯t here.¡± Ethan reported to James, running the back of his hand across his cropped blonde hair. ¡°And that kid is?¡± He pointed. ¡°Oh, Morgan, yeah.¡± James nodded, not overly worried by the presence of the youngest member of the expedition. Well, youngest human. ¡°He¡¯s fine. Arrush is out because his lung growths are off-cycle, so he¡¯s not in any condition for sustained exploration. I didn¡¯t plan around it properly, but he¡¯s doing okay. Any other problems?¡± ¡°Nope! We are ready for action!¡± Ethan cheerfully reported. ¡°Everything¡¯s accounted for, infomorphs are all in close contact, everyone used the bathroom, and we are ready to go get that bread!¡± James took a deep breath, enjoying the early evening air. ¡°I know that you know that I¡¯m out of touch with The Youth.¡± He said smoothly. ¡°So why would you say it that way?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s funny?¡± Ethan asked, before nodding to himself. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s just funny. Also aren¡¯t you excited? This is so cool!¡± It was hard to argue with that. Ethan was possibly the most enthusiastic person in the whole Order, on par with even Sarah. Though for some reason, James always felt more annoyed by him than by his friend. Which might actually have been unfair. ¡°I need to do some self-evaluation later on that.¡± James said out loud. ¡°Alright, everyone move into positions, let¡¯s get this show moving! Camracondas mount up, stay in your trios, and if we get separated by the entrance, don¡¯t be afraid to telepad out immediately!¡± Ethan moved to the front with his designated teammates, raised an arm, and then dropped it, beginning a hike across the invisible line that marked how far out Winter¡¯s Climb had influence in the real world. It all felt a little abrupt. A little less joking and a little more professional stoicism than last time. Maybe a little colder, appropriately. James decided to work on that part. Their group must have looked quite odd, in full winter climbing gear on an otherwise pleasant evening where the tallest thing around was a rock formation twenty miles away. Maybe they looked odd to Winter¡¯s Climb too, because the dungeon reacted to the expedition¡¯s crossing of that border with rapid prejudice. The crackling electric boundary of the portal formed six hundred feet on their left flank, charged them at high speed, and engulfed every member of the group practically simultaneously. They only had to maneuver a little bit at the last second to make sure all their gear made it through. Despite the sudden assault of the chill environment, James counted the transition as a perfect success. _____ Long Delve Roadmap - Winter¡¯s Climb - Roster Delver Segment : Ethan (Summit accompanying) Marlea Spire-Cast-Behind James (Zhu accompanying) Alanna Daniel (Pathfinder accompanying) Momo (Speaker accompanying) Knife-In-Fangs Bea Simon Ruby (?) Alice Charlie Support Segment : Keeka Deb (Mercy accompanying) Nikhail (Aidimy accompanying) Bill Morgan Lacey Mars (Planner on standby) Rufus Drake Team : Rudger (Summit accompanying) Elegan Lumy Reserve Threat Response : Cam the Azure _____ ¡°Video games lied to me about cold damage!¡± James heard someone bemoan the situation as they got their bearings and prepared to move. He thought it might have been Alanna, but voices got a little harder to distinguish when everyone covered their mouths with scarves and ski masks. It was a fair assessment, though, he figured. One second he¡¯d been too warm; the gear donned in advance practically stifling as they approached the entrance. But now? Now he stood in powdery snow that came up to his knees, five mile an hour wind pushing at him almost gently. James was still warm, still felt like his shell against the outside world was on the edge of claustrophobic. But he could feel the cold out there, just on the other side of the cloth and neoprene of his equipment. Waiting for him. Trying to worm its way in. For Alanna, and many of the others who had come in without full coverings, it was probably pretty bad. The entrance of Winter¡¯s Climb varied in temperature, but this was probably an easy five degrees centigrade before the wind got involved. At least it wasn¡¯t snowing, yet. The sloped ground underfoot was easy enough to walk on, but it seemed that many of the inexperienced members of the expedition were having trouble with the way the slope promised to turn any fall into a one way trip off the edge of the cliff behind them. There was a sense, looking back at where dark grey clouds swirled around mountain peaks like fangs in the distance, that you were on the ledge of something over an infinite abyss. It probably wasn¡¯t true, dungeons didn¡¯t seem like they actually did bottomless pits. But it felt that way. ¡°We¡¯re somewhere else!¡± Ethan caught James¡¯ attention as the team got the supply sleds properly lined up. Bill directed his helpers into making sure nothing spilled, while the delvers swept out in the immediate area and made sure nothing was going to attack them. Everything felt rather peaceful, for this dungeon, but Ethan still seemed worried as he moved towards James with the kind of odd walk that deep snow made someone who was experienced do to get around. ¡°What?¡± James asked like an idiot. ¡°This isn¡¯t the normal entry!¡± Ethan clarified himself. ¡°Look, see the mountains?¡± He pointed out at the distant peaks. ¡°There¡¯s two normal drop points. If you look out from here, one has a needle spire on the left, then three low peaks. The other is tall, low, tall, low.¡± James pulled his goggles off, letting the chill push against his face as he got a better look. ¡°This doesn¡¯t have that.¡± He said. This was more like a low row of jagged rock, like something had broken pieces off and stabbed them back in. ¡°So we¡¯re somewhere new. That¡¯s good, right? We¡¯re here to explore.¡± ¡°It means our maps up aren¡¯t good.¡± Ethan said. ¡°We can do it! I mean, I believe in us! But I don¡¯t have any of this one memorized. I¡¯ve never seen it before.¡± James hummed. It was entirely possible this was the place the Climb stuck people who tried to bring an army in. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s get moving before it starts storming on us. Everything good Bill?¡± He shouted at the big man who was quadruple checking the straps on a cargo sled. Bill just shot James a thumbs up, which was as good a sign as any. The expedition formed up into an oval formation, those who were comfortable with combat on the outside, and the slightly squishier medics, technicians, and support delvers on the inside with the supplies. At least, for this one delve, they didn¡¯t need to start with hundreds of extra pounds of water. There was snow everywhere; all they needed to replenish their canteens was a fire, a pot, and a brooch that could purify food. They started moving, the wind at their backs, the slope gentle and inviting. There was only one real direction to go, and the dungeon made sure it was upward. The trio of paper drakes led the way as a vanguard, with one of them shaking herself like an irritated cat every thirty feet to slough accumulated snow off of laminated page scales. They flattened enough snow that it was slightly easier to follow for the support crew, though the other delvers moved at the edges and had to form their own trails in the white powder. Ahead, gnarled dead trees poked out of the snow, many of them seeming to be standing only by leaning on frost covered grey rocks. Branches stood unmoving in the wind, the dead wood inflexible and almost as dull in color as their supports. Nothing interfered with the expedition as they trudged through the thick snow, and upward to what would hopefully level out into clearer ground. ¡°Heck, I forgot how exhausting this is.¡± James groused to Alanna. The two of them were covering the left flank, and while he was suspicious of the tree they were passing, it didn¡¯t contain anything alive, and seemed no more dangerous than any other potential firewood. ¡°The walking. With the boots.¡± He clarified to his partner. Alanna just grunted. Not that she didn¡¯t agree; she was plenty strong, but she was a runner and a fighter, not a hiker. And just because they had sleds for the heavier stuff didn¡¯t mean she wasn¡¯t wearing a hefty pack herself. All that weight added up. But she wasn¡¯t going to give in to complaining after ten minutes of walking. There¡¯d be plenty of time later. James pivoted to someone else who would understand him. ¡°Zhu, you see how exhausting this is, right?¡± He asked the navigator. Well, he addressed the navigator; but Zhu wasn¡¯t manifested, and was so deeply buried in James¡¯ thoughts at the moment that it was unlikely he heard him. ¡°Dammit.¡± He looked over his shoulder at someone he thought was Daniel under the winter clothing. ¡°This is-!¡± ¡°Exhausting, I know!¡± Daniel called back. ¡°Stop telling us! Pathfinder doesn¡¯t have legs and she won¡¯t stop telling me!¡± With a quick smile of vindication at the words, James turned back and focused on their ascent. It wasn¡¯t long before the wind shifted. There was no sign of anything causing it, but it didn¡¯t go unremarked that the direction switched to pushing into their faces just as they had the elevation to see a steeper rock slope ahead. The rocks, dusted in snow, had hardy bushes and a scattering of still living trees growing from them. And with the open terrain around, it was easy to see that the ground rose up around the edges of it after a few hundred feet in each direction, like where they were standing was just a bowl in the earth and they¡¯d found the edge. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. If they were only a few people, climbing the rocks would be simple, if not exactly easy. It wasn¡¯t a sheer cliff by any means, but the angle would take work. With their cargo sleds, though, it made more sense to hug the wall and stay out of the wind, and circle up and around to where the rocks evened out. ¡°Hey, uh, I know I¡¯m not the most experienced in the Climb.¡± Daniel started tentatively, raising his voice into the wind. ¡°But this is a trap, right?¡± ¡°Probably!¡± James and Alanna called back in unison before James continued. ¡°We¡¯ll veer left, ignore the mini-cliff, and end up about there.¡± He traced a path across the landscape with an outstretched finger. ¡°Spire! Signal the others, please!¡± He called up to the camraconda riding on the hefty paper drake that was just ahead of them. Spire-Cast-Behind, wrapped in a tube of a parka over her armor, nodded in brief acknowledgment before raising mechanical arms out like a spider to literally flag the expedition into a change of course. The Order¡¯s delvers reacted so smoothly James felt a smug warmth in his chest, everyone easily shifting to allow their formation to stay together as they turned and changed their marching direction. ¡°Movement!¡± The call went up from the far side of the formation as they tromped across the rougher terrain. As soon as they¡¯d diverted, it had been clear that they¡¯d been on a kind of natural path, leading smoothly to the rocks, because when they stepped off the ground stopped being so kind. The rocks under the snow wobbled slightly when stepped on, or sprouted thin roots or vines that could have snagged anyone not being careful. Nothing too serious, but enough to know they were forging their own path now. And when the other side of the expedition started calling out, it drew attention to the top of the little ridge ahead. The trees were shifting. But not the trees themselves, the things living in them; branches that weren¡¯t branches at all but limbs of long stickbug creatures moved against the wind, gripping onto the edges of the bare trees. One or two per tree, which wasn¡¯t an unmanageable number, but there were trees all up the craggy rock slope. If they¡¯d made straight for the wall, every one of the thirty or forty stick creatures would have been perched above them, too. Instead, the expedition was on track to pass by at a distance of a few hundred feet. Not far enough to be comfortable, but when the only cover was a few snow capped rocks and a small crater in the dirt, it would be impossible for the creatures to charge them without a response. Winter¡¯s Climb was a lot of things, but in one way, it was far more fair than most other dungeons. Oh, sure, it would slap anything flying out of the sky with razor winds and spikes of ice. It created creatures that were as aggressive and spiteful as they were cunning. It seemed actively willing to try to kill everything that came into it. But, unlike almost every other dungeon the Order knew of, it didn¡¯t care if you used a gun. It was almost refreshing. The next fifteen minutes of hauling sleds up the last lip of their chosen slope passed in tense silence as the delvers and the stick creatures eyed each other across the open field. But the creatures were cunning, and, deprived of their ambush position, it wasn¡¯t long before they just let the expedition go. The trees receding down the slope behind them as they continued their hike upward, eventually stowing the guns they¡¯d brought out just in case. The angle of the slope stayed consistent. Just enough to be a little extra tiring. And James was disappointed, because even up here, past the first obstacle, there was still just an endless expanse of powdery snow, with no easy ground in sight. And the wind didn¡¯t shift back either. He adjusted his goggles, took a deep breath of chill air, and kept moving. Everyone else did the same. They had a long ways to go yet. _____ ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have asked to come along.¡± The words were quiet under the gear, but Keeka still heard what Morgan was saying as the young human rested on the edge of one of the cargo sleds. Keeka giggled to himself. Young. What a silly word. He was younger than Morgan was, but it didn¡¯t feel that way. But Morgan had needed to learn everything the hard way. So it was probably fair. Keeka overheard a lot of things. He didn¡¯t think anyone knew just how much better he was at hearing now that he¡¯d fixed his ears and antenna. The two sets of organs worked together to let him sort of double check things people said or sounds nearby. Before, it had kept him on edge, always jumping at every little sound and whispering shadow, hunter¡¯s instincts turned up to constant paranoia. Now, he¡¯d made himself softer, less useful. But better at language. The more complex sounds easier to actually listen to without mistakes. Listening to people was a delight, even if he still was shy all the time. He¡¯d been teaching Arrush how he did it, so when his boyfriend was ready, he could experience it too. For now, though, he got to enjoy the other side of his change. Talking. ¡°Why?¡± The ratroach asked Morgan as his smaller arms held a bundle of firewood in place to be tied down by his more dexterous paws. Morgan jolted like he hadn¡¯t expected Keeka to hear him, and certainly like he didn¡¯t expect a challenge. ¡°Uh¡­ I¡¯m slowing everyone down.¡± He said through breaths that were already coming heavily and a little ragged. ¡°I made us take a break, and I¡¯m not good at this. I thought I could¡­¡± he trailed off and shrugged weakly like he was dismissing his own words. ¡°I¡¯m not as tough as I thought.¡± ¡°We are taking a break because we need to take breaks.¡± Keeka reminded the teenager with a soft chitter of words. ¡°Look.¡± He pointed a claw at where the camracondas were rotating mounts, making sure the paper drakes didn¡¯t get worn out. Then regretted it as the bundle of chopped wood from the fallen tree they¡¯d needed to clear from the path spilled. Morgan groaned as he rose to his feet to help Keeka pull the wood from the snow and replace it on the sled. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to just get this later? When we camp?¡± He asked. ¡°Might not be any.¡± Keeka shrugged. ¡°Or enough. And this isn¡¯t too much weight!¡± He tried to make it sound boastful, but wasn¡¯t sure if it worked. There was a quiet moment as Morgan helped him stow the collected material, before the ratroach spoke up with a quiet shyness. ¡°You aren¡¯t the only one.¡± Keeka said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Not the only one worried.¡± Keeka clarified. ¡°That you¡¯re in the way.¡± Morgan made a rude sound through his warm clothing. ¡°You¡¯re not tired though.¡± He accused Keeka. The ratroach slumped, letting his shoulders and extra limbs be pulled down by the weight of his parka and the tight coverings on his tails. He was trying to be nice, and commiserate, and Morgan didn¡¯t seem to want to let him. And, young as he was, Keeka didn¡¯t actually know how to react to that. It was almost funny, it could have been amusing if it didn¡¯t actually make him feel¡­ wrong. Like he really wasn¡¯t supposed to be here, wasn¡¯t supposed to be around all the humans and camracondas with their normal lives that he still didn¡¯t fully understand. ¡°Sorry.¡± He muttered to Morgan, not sure why he was apologizing. Morgan sighed, a long plume of foggy breath flowing into the air in front of him as he did so. ¡°No, wait, hang on.¡± He said, stopping Keeka before the ratroach could make his escape. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I said something stupid, and I don¡¯t know what, but I didn¡¯t want to make you sad, okay?¡± He shifted his feet nervously, pushing soft snow around with his boots. ¡°Okay.¡± Keeka found himself saying. ¡°Weren¡¯t you on the last one of these?¡± Morgan asked, his curiosity making the words feel less hostile. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯d let you come back if you were¡­ I dunno, in the way?¡± He looked up to see Keeka¡¯s glittering eyes staring at him over a pointed muzzle, the ratroach slowly turning to look over in James¡¯ direction. Morgan followed his gaze, then locked eyes with Keeka when he looked back. ¡°Okay, yeah, well¡­!¡± He threw his gloved hands up as far as he could without feeling like he¡¯d run out of stamina entirely. ¡°At least James wouldn¡¯t let us in here if he thought we¡¯d die, right?¡± Keeka thought about it long enough that Morgan got a worried look on his face. ¡°No¡­¡± he eventually admitted. ¡°He would¡­ make us stay away.¡± The thought was oddly reassuring. Even if they weren¡¯t helping, at least they weren¡¯t that much of a problem for the expedition. ¡°Alright, well, good.¡± Morgan sighed again, this time in relief. ¡°Also that gross potion really helped, and I think I¡¯m ready. When are we moving?¡± ¡°Three minutes.¡± Keeka said without having to check. ¡°Spire-Cast-Behind will signal. Your place is behind Bill¡¯s sled.¡± He had the timing and formation memorized, it was easy to reference. Morgan gave him a narrow eyed look that Keeka wasn¡¯t sure how to interpret. ¡°Right¡­¡± the teenager muttered. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re really unhelpful¡­¡± Keeka wasn¡¯t sure, because he was still trying to learn, but he was pretty sure that was some kind of sarcasm. He¡¯d ask later, when they rested again. _____ Moving was slow. If there was one thing the Climb did for the humans that visited it, Rufus figured, it was reinvigorate a respect for things like paved roads and motor vehicles. Having to walk like long legged ducks to get around in the thick blanket of unsullied snow, and having to exert physical power to haul the supply sleds along, looked exhausting. The stapler was above all that. Literally, since he was sitting perched on one of the paper drakes and watching the area carefully. But there was a part of him that felt a bit bad; he did genuinely want to help, but he wasn¡¯t large enough to put down any real force when it came to moving cargo. And his arcane options were limited, which was the reason he¡¯d wanted to come along in the first place. ¡°You two doing good up there?¡± Simon¡¯s voice spoke up during a lull in the winds. Knife-In-Fangs craned his body over the side, inexperienced enough to almost unbalance their mount. ¡°We are managing.¡± The camraconda spoke. Rufus agreed enough, and waved a couple legs in a salute. ¡°Are you sure you are not cold?¡± His camraconda riding partner asked. Rufus wasn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t feel cold like everyone else, it seemed. Though his legs were a little stiff, and he probably wouldn¡¯t do well dunked in the snow. But he didn¡¯t need a custom fitted parka like Knife-In-Fangs had. Before he¡¯d left, Ganesh had presented him with a crocheted hat, which was more than enough. It wasn¡¯t perfectly fitted, but his drone friend hadn¡¯t been willing to go as far as the expedition was into a place where the weather itself would take personal offense to his presence. So this was his contribution. Tugging on the red cap, Rufus let a couple of his legs idly scratch at the drake¡¯s back. Eldagen seemed to like it when he did this, and it was an okay way to pass the time as he kept watch, which was the best aid he could provide at the moment. Currently they weren¡¯t going up the mountain. Knife-In-Fangs, not needing to exert himself to speak up, had explained it to Rufus when the stapler had indicated he was confused. ¡°Look ahead.¡± The camraconda had said. ¡°Not to the leveling off, but beyond. See the cliff?¡± Rufus had seen it. A wall of grey stone and blue ice almost completely shrouded by the gathering grey of the growing snowstorm. ¡°We cannot climb that, and it will be our next obstacle. But if we circle now¡­¡± He¡¯d left it open, and Rufus understood. This place had eddies and whorls in space, like his homeland did. Their party couldn¡¯t scale a vertical mile, but they could spend as much time as was needed to simply find a way around. Every minute or so, Rufus would look to their right, and see the cliff still there waiting for them. Blocky rectangles of grey and black stone, hours of travel away, but waiting all the same. Under his hull, clung to firmly by his extended pen legs that he wasn¡¯t actively using, Rufus felt the paper drake swaying with every step. When the wind didn¡¯t push against them, he could hear the oddly unfamiliar noise of soft snow being compressed by a step, echoed over and over as the expedition forged forward. The air tasted different than anything he¡¯d known before; colder than the chillest parts of his home, but somehow less alive than even the structures he¡¯d lived in on Earth. Like it was empty of anything but the snow and the rocks and the wind. There was still chatter and casual conversation from the others around him. Nothing dangerous had struck yet, except the ambient weather itself. So it was a surprise to Rufus when he spotted something that brought a set of his fangs out. The natural trail they were following in a long hiked circle around the ¡®base¡¯ of the Mountain was about to lead them past a rock. It was large enough to put a small cabin on, sticking out of the snow like an island over the sea. A small cave at its base actually had brown and faded green, a splash of colors that were otherwise devoid from the delve so far. That wasn¡¯t what caught Rufus¡¯s eye though. There was a sense of danger from a stretch just past the rock. Something in the snow, something that didn¡¯t fit. The white blanket on the world here looked less like a neatly made bed and more like somewhere a person had slept last night; wrinkled and wavy, even if it was settled down now. Rufus didn¡¯t know what it meant, but he could see Knife-In-Fangs, and the other camraconda on the drake ahead of them, were both focused on the cave. Everyone was, it looked like. A series of taps got his riding partner¡¯s attention, and some rapid gestures got a quick point across. Knife-In-Fangs looked again, but couldn¡¯t see what Rufus saw. Still, he raised a flag with one of his mechanical arms, and the expedition slowed so that a trio of delvers could cross the fifty feet ahead of them and check. Carefully. Rufus watched and held his breath as they approached. Maybe he was wrong, but also, they might be about to get hurt, and all he was doing was sitting here as a passenger. Was one of them James, or Alanna? He couldn¡¯t even tell. One of the delvers shouted something, and another extended a folded metal pole to stab into the snowbank a few times. And everyone tensed or jumped or swore as there was a wooden crack that sounded amplified by the snowy ground, and something whipped out of the covered ground at high speed. It didn¡¯t hit anyone, they were being too careful. Someone - oh, it was Alanna - laughed and kicked the stick trap, before taking the pole and using it to trigger another two of the things in quick succession. Rufus watched, and when his worries settled, he thought. This was clever for a dungeon. The rocky island and the little cave were a good distraction, drawing attention away from the real trap ahead. His home didn¡¯t do things like this, it just put traps in places and let them do their job. Or maybe Officium Mundi had so many things that drew attention that it never needed a trick like this; every drawer and filing cabinet was a distraction after all. Now, he was no dungeon, and maybe they weren¡¯t as active in the creation of their spaces as the Order theorized, but if he were making this trap, he¡¯d change a few things. Make it a little cleaner. And also, don¡¯t waste the little cave like that. As soon as the stapler had the thought, he lunged forward without pausing to consider if he might be wrong. Grappling his legs around Knife-In-Fangs¡¯ body, and hauling the camraconda to look that way. Stop watching their delvers ahead, look at the distraction that isn¡¯t a distraction. Rufus¡¯s own eye tracked over the cave just as the shadow in it stirred, and then stood, awoken by the sounds outside. And then the creature moved, a thousand pounds of brown fur and muscle and a round face that maybe the dungeon thought was cute when it made the thing but then it added too many teeth. He was trying to get Knife-In-Fangs to stop the monster when it surged forward, cutting through the snow with hopping bounds that may as well have just ignored how hard it should have been to move in the stuff. A pair of shots sounded, people reacting to the sudden charge. But the thing was fast, and heading straight at their group. The potion woman, Bea, stood up to it, planting herself between the creature and the support team. And it ignored her; a single coincidental paw slamming into her head and flattening her figure into the snow in a perfect imprint of her body before it just used her as a stepping stone and kept charging, heading straight for where Bill and Lacey were hauling sleds along. Morgan, idiot child that he was, ran at the thing like he was planning to tackle it. As much as he could run in the snow, anyway. And he got a few steps toward it before it opened its hideous jaws and roared with a sound that shook the snow loose from the rocks around them. Then, finally, Rufus¡¯s pull brought Knife-In-Fangs¡¯ eye in line with it. And the camraconda reacted perfectly, freezing the creature mid-bite before it could rip Morgan¡¯s arm or leg or entire upper body off. Please don¡¯t blink. Rufus silently willed the camraconda. Five seconds later, Alanna threw herself at the thing with a swinging haymaker, roaring her own challenge, before pulling up short as she realized it was frozen. Spire-Cast-Behind got her own eye on it too, and the immediate crisis was averted without any blood shed. At least, Rufus hoped so. He wasn¡¯t sure if Bea was okay, but someone was pulling her out of the snow and she didn¡¯t look dead. ¡°Why the fuck is there a bear here?¡± Rufus heard Bill shouting. The big man having fallen on his ass in shock as the dungeon monster charged him. ¡°Yeah, this isn¡¯t fair!¡± Momo added as she stumbled over something under the snow and leaned into the paper drake Rufus was riding for support, panting for breath. ¡°Bill¡¯s supposed to be the only bear here!¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Keeka patted Bill on his armored and swathed arm with a pair of gentle hands. ¡°D-don¡¯t worry.¡± The ratroach chittered through his scarf. ¡°Th-that is a good thing. People l-like bears.¡± Keeka reassured the big man as he made eye contact with the frozen ursine that had been about to kill them. ¡°So, like¡­¡± Morgan looked around at everyone. ¡°This is just a bear, right, though? Is this a dungeon thing?¡± ¡°This looks like a brown bear.¡± James agreed. ¡°Do we kill it?¡± Ethan asked, looking around at people like he was worried underneath his goggles and face mask. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna kill an animal.¡± Rufus found that odd. Would he have had no problem if it were a dungeon creation? ¡°I don¡¯t even like killing the stickbugs.¡± Ethan added, answering that question neatly. James shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think slaughtering anything is worth it in here. So Spire, Fangs, keep an eye on this guy until we¡¯re way past, okay?¡± The camracondas called back ascent, and the delvers helped get the sleds around the frozen bear as quickly as they could. No one wanted to stick around here too long. Ten minutes of hiking later, once everyone had started to relax, Rufus looked down to see that James had made it to the flank of their paper drake, and patted it with a gloved hand next to where Rufus had resituated himself. ¡°Hey. Thanks buddy.¡± The long haired human told him. Rufus just shrugged a couple pen legs. But inside, he felt a swell of satisfaction in being recognized. Then, though, he had one important question. It took a couple points and a motion that almost made him fall off before Knife-In-Fangs repositioned his tail to keep Rufus in place, but James did eventually get his meaning. ¡°Oh, the bear? Yeah, I dunno if this one was made by the dungeon, but those just exist out on Earth. There¡¯s a lot of places where you can find them in the wild. I¡¯ve never seen one up close before, that thing was terrifying when it moved, but that¡¯s pretty normal for them.¡± Rufus gave a bobbing nod to show he¡¯d understood. And then, tightening his grip on Elegan, he resolved to never go outside ever again. _____ ¡°Holding up?¡± A woman¡¯s voice drew Bea¡¯s attention. Not enough for her to stop staring at the snake that she¡¯d snagged. The creature was a series of segmented rock pieces arranged with overlapping plates. Some kind of slate, it seemed. The head lacked detail, but the rock itself seemed like a shell for flesh underneath. Which explained why it had fangs; it might need to eat. ¡°I am capable of continuing.¡± Bea said in her monotone cadence. ¡°Okay, well¡­¡± One of Marlea¡¯s bodies approached her. ¡°You sorta got choke slammed by a bear? So it¡¯s cool if you need a rest or something.¡± Bea watched the snake twist in her grip, the stone grinding as it pushed its flexibility. Definitely a shell over something else, she decided. But why had it tried to strike her? Was it territorial, or just threatened? ¡°I heal quickly.¡± She told Marlea as she raised the snake¡¯s head up to peer at its eyes. They didn¡¯t look smooth, instead having facets like a cut gem. ¡°Kay.¡± Marlea accepted the explanation. ¡°There¡¯s weirder shit going on, I guess. Did you catch a rock snake?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Bea answered as the creature tried to bite her hand again. She didn¡¯t slacken her grip, keeping a perfectly consistent pressure on it that held it firm, without threatening its shell. ¡°It is interesting.¡± Marlea got closer, but stayed off to Bea¡¯s side, and away from the snake. ¡°Yeah, these things are kinda wild. We¡¯ve seen a lot of them in here, they¡¯re one of the things the place likes to hide in¡­ crags? Is this a crag?¡± She looked up at the ground next to them. Bea didn¡¯t correct her, but it wasn¡¯t a crag. It was simply a place where the ground was uneven, so from their perspective down here, it looked steeper than it would when they were farther up. There might have been a mild spatial contortion as well, which was something she had found interesting two months ago, but after learning the math for, had fallen out of her curiosity for. Continuing to examine her catch, Bea noticed that Marlea wasn¡¯t leaving her alone. The networked girl was watching her, almost cautiously. Bea would have sighed if she were emulating her victim, but instead she lowered the rock snake and turned to meet Marlea¡¯s eyes. ¡°Yes?¡± She asked. ¡°Hey, chill girl. I¡¯m just making sure you¡¯re actually alive. You talk like you¡¯ve got a concussion all the time, it¡¯s hard to tell.¡± Marlea raised a hand defensively, the other leaning on the pole she used to test the ground as they walked. ¡°Do you want me to talk differently?¡± Bea asked. No malice in her tone, no anything really. Marlea shrugged. ¡°Not really. What, am I supposed to tell you not to be different? I¡¯m the most self aware person on this entire hill, I can¡¯t be that much of a hypocrite.¡± She flashed a toothy smile at the inhabitor. ¡°I actually am just making sure you¡¯re doing okay. You got body slammed by a literal bear, I wanna remind you. And now you¡¯re staring at a snake.¡± Looking back at her subject, Bea spoke. ¡°I find it interesting.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± Marlea shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten bit by them too much to wanna get close, but I¡¯m glad you like it? Uh¡­ the fangs and eyes are actually sapphire, if you¡¯re curious.¡± ¡°I am.¡± Bea looked back at her. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Why does the snake get jewelry? No clue.¡± Marlea laughed with the body she had farther away, startling the people near that part of her. ¡°All the stuff in here¡­ okay, all the stuff that isn¡¯t the bear¡­ it acts weird. Because it¡¯s all different. There¡¯s no ecosystem, that lil guy doesn¡¯t eat anything. But it¡¯s like every rock snake is programmed to ruthless aggression, all the time. The stickbugs have their own patterns, too, like they¡¯re waiting for a threshold of damage before they run. It¡¯s kinda weird? I dunno.¡± ¡°They were made with instructions.¡± Bea spoke her thought aloud. ¡°Interesting. Can they be changed?¡± ¡°What, like, will the snake eventually chill out? No clue.¡± Marlea admitted. ¡°Why, want a pet?¡± Bea considered the artificial serpent she was holding. ¡°Not at this time.¡± She decided. And then, with an abrupt motion, she pulled back and pitched the snake overhand, the creature stretching out as it flew into a spinning line of grey rock. It went a lot farther than Marlea expected before dropping into the snow. ¡°Perhaps later.¡± ¡°Nice arm.¡± Marlea nodded appreciatively. ¡°Oh, here¡¯s a fun rock snake fact; they dig their own little holes in the stone. Like, they chew through it over time. You can see the bite marks.¡± ¡°That is an interesting snake fact.¡± Bea said, her dull voice betraying none of the sharp curiosity she actually felt at the words. The emotion was painfully new to her, even after months of experiencing it. ¡°Do you have more snake facts?¡± She asked, trying to share that curiosity without having to lean on the mask of the dead human she was wearing. Marlea bumped a shoulder into her, comfortable getting closer now that the offending snake was gone. ¡°Girl, I know way too much about this place¡¯s snakes. Here, swap places with Ethan, and we can talk while we hike.¡± _____ Wind screamed around the boulder, uneven gusts coming down from above and bringing with them waves of stinging icy crystals. The sky, always covered in a layer of looming grey clouds, was now a dark mass with barely any light let through. Moving against the wind was hard enough, but in a second, someone was going to be asked to run. A crack of sound cut through the howl of wind through the spindly trees and exposed rocks, an icy projectile slamming into the boulder that some of them were taking cover behind. Another one of the things landed like a siege payload in the open, leaving a tiny hole in the snow that was quickly filled over. But the size of the muffled impact couldn¡¯t be taken for granted; if that had hit someone, it would be broken bones at least, possibly even through their armor. A hit to the head could be lethal. Ethan peeked his goggled eyes around their shelter, and counted. One hit on the rock, one in the open. Another one breaking a tree branch twenty feet farther up. One more in the open. Four¡­ five¡­ six¡­ He slapped James on the shoulder. ¡°Go!¡± Ethan felt weird giving the paladin orders. But he knew this dungeon. Possibly better than anyone else. He was good at this, so James deferred to him. On cue, James pushed himself out of his crouch and sprinted at an upward angle, tracking toward the tree with the uncomfortably rectangular bark patterns that was wide enough to shelter several people at once, though not wide enough for a drake. In time with his motion, Spire-Cast-Behind nudged Rudger into motion with her tail, the drake rising up and letting her see over their cover. The snow slapped into her visor, and she wouldn¡¯t have long before she was out of visibility, but the pattern for this leg of their route was - while dangerous - predictable. A caltrop of dark blue ice, almost invisible against the rest of the snowstorm, flung itself out of the clouds as soon as James was out of cover. It wasn¡¯t exactly aimed at him, but every delver, every time they moved from point to point, had to contend with a single shot fired randomly near them. The only answer was to watch the skies and be cautious, which risked the pattern of ice spheres restarting, or to simply risk it. Or to have a camraconda sharpshooter freeze it in place for three seconds, which was more than enough. James slammed his shoulder into the bark of the tree, legs burning, heart pounding. Then the spiky ice formation crashed to the ground and rolled across the snow. Ethan let out a sigh of relief, as it stopped outside the small trench they¡¯d made by running people in the same pattern over and over to move forward. Ahead of them, Marlea and Knife-In-Fangs were directing everyone to the next patch of cover, a constantly moving line of delvers being checked off one by one as they made it to the next rock or tree or shallow gulch they could shelter in. Ethan looked up. They were maybe five or six more runs from the plateau ahead. On Earth, that would be about a minute of walking in a straight line on a sidewalk. Here, that meant almost half an hour of exertion and nail-biting tension. If they hadn¡¯t confirmed that there was a structure ahead with both a drone and a navigator scout, he would have put his foot down and made them camp in the half-collapsed laundromat they¡¯d found. It would have been a tight fit - and even that was an understatement; someone would have had to sleep on the drakes - but it would have been safer than rolling the dice. Maybe pushing it was dumb on the first day. But they¡¯d come all this way, they¡¯d made it so far. And they hadn¡¯t found anything except the frost-covered pair of socks in the last potential safe zone that Keeka said ¡®smelled like a dungeon¡¯. Everyone wanted to make it just a little farther. And, more importantly, they wanted to have a place where they could lay out their sleeping bags and have room to collapse in comfort. ¡°Five¡­ six¡­¡± Ethan counted, not letting himself get distracted. ¡°Go!¡± He tapped Bill, the big man not moving as fast as Ethan would have liked, but still crossing to the tree as space on it opened up. ¡°Spire, you ready?¡± He called as the pair found themselves the last ones in line. ¡°I am ready to nap!¡± She yelled back. ¡°Give me a nap, Ethan!¡± He smiled to himself. That wasn¡¯t the relationstick they shared, but it never stopped her from asking. ¡°Go!¡± He slapped Rudger¡¯s flank, the drake tucking his wings up before charging forward, the utmost trust in his rider. Rudger was a good drake, and Ethan was gonna give him a printer ink cartridge as a treat later. Then it was his turn. Ethan took a deep breath, hyperventilating to recharge his Breath reserves from the last time he did this. He had to move without cover, because the camracondas couldn¡¯t catch stuff at the back angle. But that was fine, because he had more than one Mountain spell already, and he knew what his were good for. When he started running, he breathed out, and exhaled magic. His blood cooled, his lungs ached, but it wasn¡¯t a huge cost, and then he was watching his run from three different directions. A trio of Ethans, all of them him, like pieces of a mirror all moving in sync. Each movement shifted only enough that he didn¡¯t trip and fall. The ice spike hit one of him, and Ethan kept running. Then he and one of his mirror selves converged on the point he¡¯d been charging to, and he was fine. And, not for the first time, grateful that the spell was weirdly uncomplicated in letting him know that all that was happening was a series of reflections of him, and not him sacrificing a duplicate like he¡¯d heard Anesh did sometimes. That would be¡­ weird. It still hurt getting hit, kind of. Ethan wished that shield bracers were smart enough to know that they only wanted the ice falling from the sky over a certain size to be blocked, but he knew that was basically just a dumb wish that wouldn¡¯t happen. ¡°Can I have a nap now?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind was taking hissing pants as she asked him from the blocky tree, Rudger covering his neck and face with a flared wing. ¡°Not yet!¡± Ethan kept his excited nature up, even now. ¡°Five¡­ no, four more crossings. Does this area do the spikes, have you seen yet?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s free then!¡± He grinned beneath his ski mask. ¡°You can do a few more! We¡¯ll be there before you know it!¡± ¡°I hate you.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind lied at him. ¡°Come on, this is great!¡± Ethan laughed as he counted falling hailstones, picking out the pattern. ¡°We¡¯ve got this! Just a little farther!¡± ¡°I hate you!¡± ¡°Okay! Three¡­ two¡­ one¡­ go!¡± Ethan tapped the next person on the shoulder, sending them running. _____ Long Delve Roadmap - Winter¡¯s Climb - Nightly Camp Agenda Area Security -Central sleeping area, no private rooms unless secure -Check main area for gravity traps thoroughly -Triple check headcount for new friends -Motion sensor alarms on all doors and windows -Sweep as much of the structure as possible, if possible -Seal breaches for heat retention Rest and Recovery -Snowmelt and purification brooches for water -Alert expedition before starting fires, dismiss the prompt to leave as a group -Potion doses for exercise recovery and oxygenated blood mandatory -Medical checkups on anyone who was injured Expedition Meeting -Debrief on days encounters -Check supplies for losses or damage -As time allows, scout ahead and discuss route -Attempt identification of any discovered items _____ Winter¡¯s Climb Long Delve - Acquisition Log - Day 1 One (1) possibly magical belt. Chapter 258 ¡°There¡¯s no greys, only white that¡¯s got grubby. I¡¯m surprised you don¡¯t know that. And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That¡¯s what sin is.¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s a lot more complicated than that -¡¯ ¡®No. It ain¡¯t. When people say things are a lot more complicated than that, they means they¡¯re getting worried that they won¡¯t like the truth. People as things, that¡¯s where it starts.¡± -Terry Pratchett, Carpe Jugulum- _____ Winter¡¯s Climb offered, as a reward for facing its challenges and surviving intact and with a little bit of the right loot, a pretty wide variety of magic. Granted, James admitted to himself, that magic could kill you to use if you weren¡¯t careful. Draining the heat from your blood and the air from your lungs, which seemed really unfair since it sorta siphoned off both of those things to create the Breath mana that it used in the first place. But if you could handle that - and the Order had tools for exactly that - then you could pull from a pretty decent library of spells. His personal favorite, which he sadly didn¡¯t have himself yet, was the one that let you negate friction between an object, and a surface. The definitions of both terms were kinda hard to pin down, as a lot of dungeon magic was, but when it worked, it worked. It was also practically anti-useful when trying to pull cargo sleds uphill. A fact he was becoming rapidly familiar with as he helped hold one of the treated wood and fiberglass beasts in place until the caster could remove the effect. He didn¡¯t blame them for the error, though. It had been a long day of following the bank of a frozen river through a winding narrow valley, and repeated casts of the magic were the main way that they¡¯d managed to keep everyone from exhaustion so far. The small incidents of running into the hypnotic frozen splashes of ice crystals in the river hadn¡¯t really slowed the expedition down much, even with the unfortunate realization that no one had prepared for Rufus to be here. But despite lacking goggles and unshielded from the effect, the stapler being put into a relaxed trance and willing to simply lay down and freeze to death wasn¡¯t much of a problem when he was already riding one of the paper drakes away from the source of the mental attack. Maybe that counted for one of the harmless errors that Pathfinder had seen for them ahead when she plotted them a path to a good point to start climbing. James grunted as he felt something shift behind him, and he let one of his boots slip across the packed snow to get a better grip as he planted his shoulder on the sled that was threatening to zip back down the hillside they¡¯d been climbing the last hour. Maybe this was also a harmless error. He hoped so, because he didn¡¯t feel like getting run over by the expedition¡¯s medical supplies. That, James was certain, was ironic enough to count as misadventure, and none of those were scheduled. ¡°Okay, got it!¡± Ethan¡¯s voice called to him, and James sighed as he felt the weight pull off him. Next to him, Alanna did the same, straightening up and cracking her joints underneath the heavy armor and thermal gear. ¡°You okay?¡± She asked James. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯m good.¡± He said. ¡°Zhu helped me catch it, so I didn¡¯t even have to rip my shoulders out of their sockets.¡± ¡°I¡¯m very powerful.¡± Zhu confirmed with a smug scrunch of his eye manifested on James¡¯ breastplate. ¡°I could be powerful too¡­¡± James added wistfully. Alanna snorted a muffled laugh as she slapped bits of stuck snow off of James¡¯ ass. Or at least, that was her excuse. ¡°Yeah yeah, you¡¯re both hot. Should we get moving again?¡± James hesitated. Standing here, his legs tensed to keep him upright on the almost forty degree incline, he had an excellent view of how far they¡¯d come. Sometimes Winter¡¯s Climb messed with the space inside of it. If it had a source, like the orange orb totems in the Office, they hadn¡¯t found it yet. But it did mean that any path could take you away from wherever you were, and plant you somewhere new. Everything was connected, but there was always a chance that you couldn¡¯t exactly tell how. Here, though, nothing had messed with their forward progress. And now that he had a chance to look back, James saw that valley spreading out below them. It looked so small from up here, the river of shattered ice, the hypnotic crystals that dotted it every quarter mile. On the side of the valley across from them, snowy trees crawled like fuzzy hair up the distant slope, while the valley itself wound its way steadily toward the slowly advancing grey wall of an approaching blizzard. The scent of fresh snow and crushed pine needles filled his senses as James took in a deep breath, feeling his lungs stretch slightly as he took in the vista. From here, he could see the spot where a group of stickbugs had tried to ambush them this morning. He could see a few distant tiny circles of yellow and green light where inorganic traffic signals mixed into the distant trees. He could see motion from things that were too far to make out except as distant blurs, even with his enhanced eye. And he could feel in his bones that there was a shift in the weather coming, though that seemed like a normal sensation for Winter¡¯s Climb. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m good.¡± He told Alanna. Already, Ethan and Keeka had pulled the sled back into position behind them, and the group was reforming to prepare to move into their own forested area. There had been trees in small clusters coming up, but now they faced a root-filled ground where the thick snow hid a thousand tripping hazards, and the trees kept them from holding their perimeter formation. James wasn¡¯t looking forward to seeing what tried to kill them here. He expected more of the stick creatures. And while every member of the expedition had been set up with enough of the resistance programs to give them a flat ten percent immunity to both wood and venom, that wasn¡¯t actually enough to make anyone want to get bit by the things that injected you with something that turned your flesh into bark. Maybe he¡¯d be surprised. Maybe they¡¯d get ambushed by something new. _____ Camille the Azure walked through snow that lightly reflected a sky the color of her name. The storm kept approaching from down the valley, and approaching with a visible line in the snow at that, in a way that Earth storms rarely did. But despite that, the sky overhead was a blue deeper than anything she¡¯d ever seen. Glimpsed through the green pine boughs they were trekking through, the only thing that broke up the majesty of the sky were small black specks high overhead. Her danger sense did not trigger on them, which was good. It meant they were unlikely to be relevant today. Though she was aware that her sense was insufficient when it wasn¡¯t used on someone else. Very little was dangerous to her, even if she was the weakest of her sisters. Camille turned her head sideways just enough to see Morgan helping to pull one of the sleds. With some consideration, she held back on letting her senses envelop him; there was always the possibility that she would actually be called upon this time, and not simply left to walk and wait in silence. She couldn¡¯t risk wasting the energy. ¡°Uh¡­ hi?¡± Morgan was looking at her. The teenager¡¯s face scrunched up, skin reddening from the cold where he¡¯d pulled his ski mask off for a breath of fresh air. Camille realized she could be taken as having been staring at him, something that she was normally better at avoiding. She kept panning her vision like she was sweeping the terrain, hoping that would cover the motion. Usually that worked; most people that weren¡¯t on their guard would easily assume someone¡¯s actions were innocuous. But he¡¯d also spoken directly to her, so not replying wouldn¡¯t be enough. And also, ¡®scanning the terrain¡¯ didn¡¯t work especially well when they were walking through the trunks of trees that were becoming closer and closer in their placement, and there wasn¡¯t much range to her sight. ¡°Hello.¡± Camille said, turning back to lock eyes with Morgan before looking forward again. That usually discouraged further¡­ ¡°Are you doing alright?¡± The teenager asked her. Camille felt a twinge of internal annoyance that her estimation of how people were supposed to behave didn¡¯t match up to how anyone in the Order of Endless Rooms acted. ¡°I am well.¡± She answered, voice coming clearly through the scarf she was told she should probably wear. Her body didn¡¯t mind the temperatures, which had just dropped below freezing and would be plummeting when the storm and the night reached them, but the others insisted on her comfort. ¡°I am keeping watch.¡± She tried to explain. Not that she was needed. Bill, Lacey, Keeka, and Mars were all focused on pulling the sleds along, but the others were alert. Deb¡¯s eyes watched the trees with paranoia, while Nikhail¡¯s did so with excitement, but they were simply the inner core of the formation. Others surrounded them, alert and attentive, and even the drakes had a razor sharp sense of hearing. Camille was not required here. ¡°Oh. Okay.¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°Uh¡­ if you¡¯re worried, keep an eye out for snow piles where there¡¯s small rocks on top but they haven¡¯t sunk in? Those things are usually alive.¡± ¡°Yes. I read the documents on this¡­ dungeon.¡± The word tasted odd to her. Dungeon. A place to keep prisoners and treasure. And that might literally be true, but no, it wasn¡¯t that. It was, to many of these people, something of a joke. A reference to an entire genre that Camille was of course familiar with from her life as an azure, but that she never would have thought to apply to something like this. Morgan, perhaps not seeing her hidden mix of confusion and consternation, perked up. ¡°Oh, cool. I actually helped write a couple of those with James.¡± He stumbled over the man¡¯s name, and Camille¡¯s training kicked in. She found herself speaking before considering it, searching for information on a reflex she had spent weeks trying to repress. ¡°He sent you into this place?¡± Morgan pulled his face covering back up, perhaps to hide. His answer was stalled slightly as he was called forward by Bill to help them get one of the sleds over a protruding root formation. As the slow but steady hike up the slope stalled, sounds rang out from the left flank, and Camille forced herself to stay in position and ready to respond as she listened to the others repel a probing strike from some of this place¡¯s fodder. They moved on, heading toward the cliff the party intended to scale to make better elevation progress. It was out of sight by now, the snow-dusted green of the trees coming together overhead in a true forest. The trunks were warped with protrusions like salt crystals, and their branches spread dozens of meters outward, far beyond what a normal Earth tree could have supported. But for all that, their needles were just needles, their pinecones just pinecones. When Morgan fell back to try to restart their conversation, they were distracted again by the expedition passing a street lamp. An iron pylon with a glowing white glass globe at its top. They steered clear of it, but the teenager pulled his gloves off to fumble a phone out and snap a photo of the thing. He was joined by a pair of the delvers from their right flank, a man and woman that Camille had been briefly introduced to as Charlie and Alice, who bickered in a way that she suspected was friendly as they took more professional and measured snapshots. After a few minutes he actually did get a chance to talk to Camille again. She wasn¡¯t sure why he was trying so hard, but she had nothing better to do. ¡°Uh¡­ so¡­¡± He started awkwardly. ¡°You asked¡­¡± ¡°Why you were used as a scout, yes.¡± She reiterated. ¡°Right.¡± Morgan nodded, more confident when he had something fresh to answer. ¡°He didn¡¯t. I sorta fell in? Everyone knew there was a dungeon around here, and Liz and Dawn and I came along because¡­ I dunno.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I think it was supposed to be something fun, like a summer field trip. Then we found out how the entrance worked. And got to name it! Though Liz mostly picked the name.¡± Camille didn¡¯t show any outward reaction, but she did begin to reevaluate the young man as her mind put facts together to create a map of events. They had been searching for ¡®a dungeon¡¯, but not the Climb specifically. They had been searching Australia in summer. His friends were likely his age, which meant that unprepared teenagers, likely wearing sunscreen and tee shirts, had ended up in the cold, wind, and snow of the Winter¡¯s Climb, and had lived. ¡°And you came back.¡± Camille said, letting her voice make it a question. Morgan shrugged again. ¡°I kinda want magic?¡± He said sheepishly. As if he were embarrassed that he wanted to follow the human desire for power. ¡°Also it¡¯s easier with real pants. And I don¡¯t have to carry Dawn this time. Didn¡¯t you agree to come so you could get a spell slot too?¡± ¡°I¡­ did not.¡± Camille said. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡­ would be¡­¡± She trailed off. She had assumed that the actually spells would be restricted from her, even if she would be allowed to follow up the Mountain and open up the potential. Why had she assumed that? ¡°Why did I¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna get the cat.¡± Morgan said, drawing her attention back as he used his hands to pull himself over a barrier of roots, some wood, some iron, and dropped with an ¡°Oof¡± to the other side. Camille stopped letting herself be complacent, and swept her attention around them. All was still, and she needed to follow quickly so that she was still centered in the formation, so she hopped the roots, landing with a shifting crunch of snow as her heavy armor and body compressed it down. Morgan kept talking like her motion was normal to him. ¡°The snow cat spell, I mean. It sounds really cute, and I¡¯m not gonna be a delver, I think.¡± ¡°What utility does it provide?¡± Camille idly asked as she cocked her head sideways, watching Keeka carefully as the multilimbed creature paused to pick a blue stemmed flower out of the snow near the base of a trunk. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s cool?¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s about thirty pages of research on it that I haven¡¯t read, but I just think it¡¯s cool to have a pet made of snow. I could get a sno cone machine to feed it! And I bet James would cover the cost!¡± He stumbled on the name again. There was something there that Camille didn¡¯t quite see. A tether between the two that she didn¡¯t know how to place in relation to her training. They weren¡¯t in a chain of command, they weren¡¯t enemies or tactical assets to each other. She wasn¡¯t blind to human emotion, but this felt different than any of the cultural expressions she¡¯d been trained on. The only part of that sentence Camille truly didn¡¯t understand though was what a sno cone machine was. Before she had a chance to ask, one of the noncombatants made a sound. ¡°Huh.¡± Mars said. ¡°Why¡¯re there pinecones on the lamp?¡± The pinecones, the kind that were six inches in diameter and spread open with tiny needle points on the end of each of their tips, the kind that grew in deep forests and on old trees, were growing off the edge of the crossbeam of one of the iron streetlamps. A trio of them nestled together on the edge of a bar that might have been meant to hang flags or planters on, but was bare of anything except some icicles and the pinecones. ¡°That is weird.¡± Morgan said. The teenager was halfway through pulling his phone out of one of his pouches when Camille stepped up next to him and placed an immovable hand on his wrist, stopping the motion. ¡°What?¡± He jolted, trying to jerk away on instinct. Then the pinecones opened themselves up, the seed scales linking together to form sweeping wings, the stems turning to spines with rows of dull green eyes looking downward. First the ones on the lamp, then more of them, higher up in the trees around the expedition. Twenty, fifty, a hundred. The dropped from their perches and fell toward the snowy forest floor to be greeted by surprised shouts and rapidly recovered tactical orders. One of them bounced off Camille¡¯s leg as she moved to try to intercept them. But despite the clear armaments of the monster forms, it didn¡¯t attempt to grapple or stab her, instead dazedly pulling itself out of the snow and launching back upward with rapid flaps. When she went to crush it, this time it was Morgan who stopped her. ¡°Wait!¡± The teenager said as he grabbed at her. Before she could complete her stomp, the pine bat thing was back in the air, keeping low to the ground like the dozens of others. The flock of them swarmed around the sleds and delvers, causing no small amount of chaos and a few shouts where they rammed or raked the unprepared explorers. But after what couldn¡¯t have been more than half a minute, every one of them took wing back to the sky, perching in clusters on the high trees, their forms half open and their eyes watching warily. Camille watched the branches overhead with open ire as the pinecones watched back. After regrouping and moving ahead twenty meters, out from under the bulk of their numbers, the delvers checked for serious injuries or missing supplies. Aside from a few scratches or tears on the outer layers of everyone¡¯s equipment, nothing was amiss. That, and a layer of irritatingly sticky sap that had been left behind in blobs by the things. One of the camracondas had managed to freeze one of them. Alice held it in her hands tightly as it was let go from the effect, and while it started thrashing right away, it calmed down as she kept a firm but gentle grasp on it. A few others clustered around to examine the wing structure and test the sharpness of its wingtip claws. But then they let it go, not wanting to cause it distress. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Camille had said, mostly to herself, as Alice let the living pinecone go from an outstretched hand. ¡°It didn¡¯t try to kill us.¡± Morgan explained. She looked back at him as he put his phone away, having taken a video of the creature up close. ¡°But it¡¯s dangerous.¡± ¡°So are you.¡± He shrugged. ¡°So what? They didn¡¯t hurt anyone except whoever has to clean the sap off the tarps and¡­ aw, fuck, that¡¯s me isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m gonna have to do that laterrrrr.¡± Morgan¡¯s brief brush with wisdom drifted away on the wind as he realized that even in a dungeon he couldn¡¯t escape some form of doing chores. Camille fell silent as they continued on, passing over thicker and thicker roots of wood and iron, the trees and streetlamps becoming more even in ratio. Her mind spun thoughts out as she connected words and actions. None of this was surprising, exactly; it lined up with what her violet sister had told her of these people. It was why she had felt¡­ not safe, exactly, but as if they were an option with potential. But it was different to see it in action. Again. A different set of individuals than in the Ceaseless Stacks, but still, they shared the same core beliefs. Calm attempts at understanding, prioritization of life over everything else, a willingness to risk themselves to learn more¡­ The woman named Ann was even now trying to feed one of them a granola bar now, attempting to entice the flying pinecones back down from their perches. ¡°Oh.¡± Camille whispered as she made a new connection, information clicking into place about the people she had chosen to shelter with. ¡°You¡¯re all so much more dangerous than I am.¡± The words were swallowed by a sudden burst of wind whistling through the branches, the pinecones fluttering overhead as they steeled themselves against the gust. The realization caused something that Camille hadn¡¯t experienced before. Not in the span of her life that she could remember, at least. Certainly not in the past several weeks of constantly fearing her father¡¯s retribution. As the expedition made it to where the trees and lamp posts grew up against the towering rock wall, the obtuse angle of the snowdrift and buried dirt promising a challenging start to their climb, she found herself relaxing. When scouts split off or launched drones to make sure there were no surprises in the area, no rockfalls waiting to happen or creatures lurking nearby, she found herself achieving not just calm, but an almost eager excitement. And when something broke inside her, and the emotions she¡¯d been holding back for almost a month crashed through, she understood suddenly why it was that Morgan had such a hard time finding his place relative to James. It was because the young man was trying to emulate someone he didn¡¯t fully think he could. And, to Camille, the terrifying thing was, even in barely getting close, Morgan still casually captured the thing that made these people something her father had been concerned with. _____ For the better part of two days of delving, the expedition had managed to avoid having to actually climb anything. Winter¡¯s Climb was cold, it got colder as you ascended, it snowed and shot ice at you seemingly at random, and most of the things in it were hostile. But, if you had the time to look, you could find an ¡®easy¡¯ way forward from every major terrain obstacle. Often times they would be winding or looping trails that had an exhausting incline the whole way through, and just as often they would have some other problem like a snow beast lying in wait or patches of buried ice that threatened to crack if you put too much weight on them. But you could keep going without having to scale any of the grey and white rock ledges. And your only restriction was your own stamina and how many supplies you packed. Or, like today, time. Because if you wanted to lay claim to a rectangular red brick building that seemed to be more than two thirds buried, both so you could have its secrets, and also so you could have shelter before the storm and the artificial night collapsed on you, then you needed to take shortcuts. The method was something overland expeditions had used for a large part of human history, just with better technology. First, someone would actually climb up, because simple and easy were different things. Attaching pitons and sweeping for gear eaters or whatever other surprise the dungeon wanted to throw at them as they went, they would set up at the top and start bringing other delvers up with proper harnesses. They¡¯d also pull up the materials needed to clear the snow near the top of the ledge, and set up a heavier pulley system. And then, one by one, the cargo sleds would get hauled up, and then finally the whole thing would be broken down again once everyone was at the top. The drakes could also ride the platform too, if they wanted, but the creatures could climb just fine and Rudger at least seemed to really enjoy clawing his way upward on the frozen rocks. The process took a while though. So while the others secured the area, took a break, pulled chrome hubcaps out of the snow against the cliff, or watched Alanna free climb a rock wall that did actually have a solid number of handholds and ledges, some of the group split off to check something out. The cave was only visible if you had actually made it up the hill to the rock, and only then if you decided to check carefully and wondered why it looked like there was a black line in the distance. That line was actually what it looked like when the rock had a hole in it, but the hole just led to more rock; a doorway that led into the cliff instead of over it. James followed Alice and Charlie as the duo struggled to push aside a tangled mass of brownish green vines. The plant was absolutely riddled with thorns, and the clusters of amber berries on it probably had even odds of being stupendously poisonous. It also didn¡¯t move easily; too many overlapping vines or branches woven into a mess that resisted being pulled from its rock nest. ¡°See?¡± Alice said as she ripped the vines loose enough to push them away from the cave entrance. ¡°Sub-dungeon! A dungeon within a dungeon!¡± ¡°You cannot possibly have enough information to make that claim.¡± Charlie¡¯s voice was more muffled than her¡¯s, as the man seemed resistant enough to the thought of getting cold that he¡¯d layered on face coverings. James could barely hear him over the wind whistling off the rocks overhead. James grinned into his mask, shaking his head lightly. He hadn¡¯t really dealt with two delvers much, but the way they bantered with each other seemed¡­ not familiar, but recognizable. They had their own thing going on. It was amusing to watch. He went first into the breach in the rock, holding an electric lantern up that was powerful enough to throw back the pitch black interior. James had been in a place like this before, and the small caves were a known factor in the Climb, but it never hurt to have a look around. There was a rustle from behind him as the others followed, letting the bramble drop back into place. The flashlights on their armor¡¯s webbing clicked on one after the other, after Alice took a second to pull an inch long thorn out of one of her gloves. The beams joined the lantern James had brought from the supply, illuminating rough walls and an uneven stone floor. ¡°Goes back a ways.¡± Charlie commented idly, seeming to be completely at ease in the dungeon. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got time.¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯ll be half an hour at least before stuff is set up and moving, so we might as well. If you two want to, that is.¡± ¡°Oh heck yeah.¡± Alice pulled her scarf down. ¡°Whoof. Kinda warm in here without the wind going on.¡± Charlie checked something on his wrist. ¡°Entirely wrong. It¡¯s two degrees in here.¡± James snorted, but also pulled his mask away from his face to enjoy the cool air on his skin. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s not too bad without wind chill. Maybe it¡¯s just cause I¡¯ve been getting my exercise in for the day. Okay, let¡¯s check this out.¡± He started moving forward, stepping carefully and kicking aside loose rocks the size of fists that littered the ground. The cave was wide enough for one person to comfortably walk and turn around in, but he wouldn¡¯t have been able to stretch his arms out, which made the place rather claustrophobic. James tried to not focus on how pinned in he was, and how the two people behind him would block him from running for the exit if it got to be too much, and instead focused on carefully placing steps ahead of himself. ¡°I did not think this would be a problem for me.¡± He muttered. ¡°You okay?¡± Alice asked almost instantly, along with a questioning grunt from her partner. ¡°Oh, yeah, I¡¯m just learning I might be claustrophobic.¡± James¡¯ voice cracked, which would have embarrassed him in any other circumstance. ¡°This isn¡¯t even that bad! What the shit, brain?!¡± Charlie¡¯s flashlight shifted in his view as the man standing behind him lagged by a few steps. ¡°Better?¡± He asked. James glanced over his shoulder, feeling like even that twisting motion was limited by the rock around him. The others had fallen back, giving him more personal space. He¡¯d still have to push past to leave, but¡­ ¡°Weirdly? Yes.¡± James said. As he turned back to keep walking, something caught his eye. ¡°Oh hey, check this out¡­ uh¡­ when you go past.¡± He tapped the cave wall with his free hand. The cave curved left, and it wasn¡¯t more than twenty steps before the vine concealed entrance was completely out of sight. Behind him, James heard a pair of different emotionally flavored ¡°Huh¡±s as the duo he was with passed the Canadian dollar coin embedded in the rock. He still felt like he was being trapped and lightly choked by the environment, but he kept walking forward, pressing his shoulder to the smooth corner of the cave as he squeezed past a boulder blocking the way. Another pair of coins in the rock caught his eye. And then more after the turn. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Scattered round dots of silver and copper in the wall turned into something more coherent. A line of metal, coins placed with what seemed like deliberate intent. Alice squeezed through behind James, and he stopped staring to hop down over a lip of raised rock to land in a bubble of space. It wasn¡¯t a cavern or anything, but it was wider here, and the floor was smoothed out. Something tapped his head, then did so again, and James looked up just in time to get a drop of freezing water on the eye of his goggles. Overhead, stalactites hung like bony fangs, dripping cold water endlessly onto the floor, eroding it down. He didn¡¯t know where the water went after, but the cave was dry to walk on. ¡°This is so fucking cool.¡± Alice muttered. ¡°I¡¯ll watch the stalactites.¡± Charlie commented. ¡°Keep an eye on the shadows.¡± ¡°Stop being so paranoid and enjoy this!¡± She shot back at him. James interrupted. ¡°You think something¡¯s up with the ceiling?¡± ¡°I think anything that¡¯s in the Monster Manual is fair game, and I don¡¯t want to find out when it drops on my head.¡± Charlie said, playing his flashlight off the hanging spires of porous white stone. That was, James figured, fair enough. He didn¡¯t let himself get paranoid, but he did make sure not to step under any of the spots where the drops of water were coming faster as he crossed the floor to where the cave continued. ¡°Hey, how do you two remember if they¡¯re stalactites or mites?¡± Alice asked as she swept her own flashlight over the opposite wall, following an arc of pennies as it wove like a snake toward where the cave turned ever deeper into shadowy darkness. ¡°Stalagmites might hang from the ceiling.¡± James told her. ¡°But they don¡¯t.¡± There was silence except for the dripping of water receding behind them and their steps on the once again rough stone. After mercifully learning that the cave here was widening and not narrowing, James felt his breath coming easier. And then Alice spoke up. ¡°Was that it?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh. Yeah, that¡¯s it. It¡¯s kinda stupid, and it¡¯s how I remember.¡± James told her. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ it¡¯s¡­¡± he stopped talking as they rounded the final corner. It was hard to figure out what to say about what was ahead of them. The coins embedded in the walls, everything from pesos to dimes to more currencies James didn¡¯t recognize, had stopped being subtle. It was weird that he didn¡¯t see any Australian currency, given where they were. Just coins from around the rest of the world. There were four lines of them, placed in curved waves, two on each wall, one high, one low. And here, where the cave came to an end, so too did the lines of markings. All the lines of coins converged on what could only be described as a mural. Or maybe a mosaic, James didn¡¯t know the exact terminology. Coins arranged and layered on each other forming a shockingly detailed series of images that spread out in a ring around a central spiral. Yen and nickles and loonies forming an enormous disc of art. At the top, there were people - maybe humans - either fighting or worshiping some kind creature implied by the gap in the rock. Around the spiral from that, there was a city in ruin. Then at the bottom, rows of people, maybe marching, maybe waiting, maybe something else. And finally, the leftmost image showed those same people rebuilding their city, raising it up toward an identical gap in the rock, the dark shadows implying something less monstrous than the top image, but it was exactly the same, right down to where the extra cracks were. ¡°What the fuck¡­¡± James breathed out as he held his lantern up to take in the scene of the cave art that stretched across all fifteen feet of the back wall. Next to him, Charlie started recording, taking a video as he panned over the whole thing, while Alice stepped forward to run a hand across the frozen metal coins. ¡°Is this¡­ what is this?¡± Alice¡¯s voice sounded small in the open rear of the cave. They hadn¡¯t come very far, but James still felt like there should be an echo or something in here. Instead, sound felt like it died without getting very far at all. ¡°This is fascinating.¡± Charlie spoke up, his voice shaking slightly. ¡°But why is it here?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a story.¡± Alice said. ¡°You cannot know that.¡± Charlie¡¯s reply was automatic, like he didn¡¯t believe his own words. James shook his head. ¡°No, we can. Even if it¡¯s just gibberish, this is emulating a storytelling style. This is meant to be read as a story. The question is¡­ what¡¯s it saying?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a warning, right?¡± Alice said. ¡°This could be a warning explicitly at us. Mess with a dungeon too much, get your civilization wrecked.¡± ¡°Where are you starting on the ring?¡± Charlie asked, and Alice tapped the left image. He nodded, still taking closerer pictures of each part of the mosaic. ¡°What if you start on the right? Does the story change?¡± Tracing a gloved finger over the line of where a series of tiny single yen coins made up a crumbling tower, James hummed in thought. ¡°Wherever you start on this, you get a different take. A civilization in ruin strikes out and takes a risk on a dungeon, then gets too greedy. Or a dungeon shows up and people fight back and lose and have to become nomads. Or a group of wanderers find a dungeon and¡­ actually we¡¯re all assuming the breach is a dungeon, right? Not just some monster?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°For the sake of argument, yes.¡± ¡°Cool. But it¡¯s all a cycle. No matter where you start, it keeps happening. That¡¯s kinda bleak.¡± James didn¡¯t really like stories about time like this. ¡°What if¡­¡± Alice suggested slowly. ¡°What if this isn¡¯t a warning at all?¡± ¡°Hm. Interesting idea.¡± Charlie said as he finished his photography. ¡°You think this is a record? Something that already happened. It wouldn¡¯t have to be cyclical, that could just be an artistic choice.¡± ¡°Yeah. Do we know how old the Climb is?¡± She said with an anxious glance back at the cave they¡¯d crawled through to get here. James laughed suddenly, getting a cocked eyebrow from Charlie and a jolted stare from Alice. ¡°Sorry!¡± He said. ¡°I just realized, we¡¯re interpreting this like it¡¯s real.¡± He said, looking at the two of them with a grin. ¡°But look at it! None of the money here is older than, like, 1950? Who would have made this, except the dungeon itself?¡± ¡°That¡¯s sorta why I¡¯m worried, man!¡± Alice gave her own nervous laugh. ¡°Oh, I see.¡± Charlie snapped his fingers. ¡°The dungeon that has been trying to kill us this whole time. That dungeon.¡± James nodded, setting the lantern down so he could try to pry a coin out of the wall and utterly failing. ¡°Exactly. This is about as useful as a book from the Stacks. Which is to say, it isn¡¯t. It¡¯s just decoration. We can¡¯t trust any kind of mythology or culture we find in a dungeon, because they can make up whatever they want and there¡¯s no way for us to verify it. Have whole cycles of civilization fallen to dungeon influence before? I dunno! Humanity has been around for hundreds of thousands of years and only writing stuff down for two of those thousands! But I¡¯m not gonna trust nickel-based cave art to tell me the truth.¡± He stepped back, looking over the ring of images again. ¡°Still looks awesome though.¡± ¡°Dance would have loved this.¡± Alice agreed. ¡°And it¡¯s pretty cool, even if it is still terrifying.¡± She crossed her arms at it, shifting to adjust to the unfamiliar armor and cold weather gear. ¡°I thought roaming around Missouri was terrifying. Psh. I hadn¡¯t seen this yet.¡± ¡°No, I agree with James. The simplest solution is it isn¡¯t real.¡± Charlie said with unflappable confidence. ¡°Also, we should head back. If there¡¯s nothing to collect, we shouldn¡¯t spend too much time here.¡± He thought for a second. ¡°Also you¡¯re right about the kid. Shame camracondas have trouble here.¡± James wasn¡¯t especially a fan of the mercenary attitude, but he didn¡¯t see anything like a puzzle to solve that would open a secret compartment. So he nodded, and they started making their way out. ¡°So.¡± He asked, making small talk as they escaped the cave. ¡°How¡¯s Missouri been anyway?¡± ¡°Cold, wet, dark, and devoid of any sign of the dungeon.¡± Alice complained. ¡°Not bad.¡± Charlie said, as if he hadn¡¯t heard her. James pulled his mask up to hide his smirk as the two of them got into something resembling an argument about road conditions. Maybe they hadn¡¯t found any magic, but he felt like this side adventure had been worth it. _____ Winter¡¯s Climb - Long Delve - Day 2 Report - Structure #5 Five floors, estimated ten thousand square feet a floor. Brick and rebar construction, with interior walls and supports being made of wood. On the verge of collapse from damage from the cold and wet environment. Lower three floors were completely buried in the snow, leading to a hypothesis that the lower levels would be more intact. Exploration began with two teams of four each. Structure thematically identified as some form of archival building. Rooms full of old boxes of documents, most completely unreadable or rotting. Furniture was almost completely destroyed or unusable. No central rooms on the top floors. Lower floors were dark and partially collapsed. First delve team encountered a gravity trap that caused two moderate injuries. Second team encountered a pipe trap that soaked all of them with freezing water. Exploration halted after both incidents, and the majority of one floor collapsed into the floor below it. A functioning wall clock, six metal pens with silver inlay, and an unidentified charging cable were recovered. Location marked on map, expedition moving on to find shelter before the storm overtakes us. _____ Deb had been pretty exhausted the last couple days. She wasn¡¯t built for hiking, and the exercise potions did nothing for mental fatigue or stress. Which meant that her thought process was a little delayed, though she did eventually make a connection she should have hours ago. ¡°Hey wait, brown bears aren¡¯t even close to native to Australia.¡± ¡°Honestly?¡± Simon looked up at her from where he was seated on a sled to get the gash on his arm treated. ¡°I assumed it was some kind of magic.¡± ¡°Magic bear?¡± Deb¡¯s face scrunched up as she cleaned the wound, then pressed a piece of gauze down to staunch the bleeding before Simon leaked all over the snow. ¡°Magic bear.¡± He bit out the words, trying to make a joke around the pain. Deb sighed as she wrapped his arm with professional precision, before helping him get his damaged gear back on. Duct tape would only patch the hole for so long in the plummeting temperatures, so he¡¯d need to swap to a replacement when they camped. ¡°Sure.¡± She said, defeated. ¡°Magic bear. Why not.¡± _____ They¡¯d had to rush on the second day to find a place to shelter, and it had ended up being a cramped set of caves and not a structure. But they¡¯d done it, and they hadn¡¯t even lost anything from their cargo. Though they did have to dig themselves out the next day. On the third day, though, the going had been slower, and harder. The wind didn¡¯t let up. At any given point it was snowing on them, though whether that was occasional fat fluffy flakes, or aggressive tiny ice crystals driven into their faces, was mostly up to the whims of the weather. There were no more easy routes. James wasn¡¯t sure how high they¡¯d climbed, since all the measuring instruments that Mars had brought didn¡¯t seem to register properly in here. They¡¯d absolutely gone up, but the atmospheric pressure was the same as it had been. Small mercies, perhaps. But however high they¡¯d come, it was past the point that the Climb felt like letting them take it easy. Every path was either a steep incline dotted with threats, or a wall to climb. Which was probably also filled with threats. James knew it was going to be a harsh day when they¡¯d launched a scout drone to check over the thirty foot wall of snow and loose dirt dotted with boulders that they¡¯d come up to, and the drone was just gone. Rising up one second, and the next, it tilted sideways and was disappearing into the clouds and the swarm of black dots that was the incoming snow. Nothing more than a glint in the sky, and even that was gone in a blink. ¡°I did not expect the Team Rocket maneuver.¡± Alanna yelled against the wind from next to him, staring up at where they¡¯d just lost their hardware. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t pissed off, this would be hilarious.¡± James agreed, shouting back. James and Camille ended up climbing the cliff themselves, leaving a line of pitons behind in the more stable boulders. This particular obstacle had a lot of loosely packed dirt in it, and while it was easy enough to get a foothold in the stuff, James worried he was kicking down a lot of debris onto the expedition below. The climb itself wasn¡¯t too hard, though. With Zhu¡¯s help, and aid from his extra ice limb courtesy of the Mountain¡¯s own magic, James was able to never overexert himself as he moved from handhold to handhold, slowly making progress upward. His closest call was jerking back and having to pull himself up, feet windmilling wildly against the cliff, as a blot of fuzzy shadow tried to bite through his boot. The gear eater got about three toes in before James kicked it off and then scrambled to right himself. He got to the top, panting, foot screaming in pain at the cold of the rock and the rough rock he¡¯d been scraping it against, just in time to get rushed by a sleek mass of snow. The creature loomed over the rest of the white expanse that capped the field up here, but despite being nine feet tall and staring down at James with glinting coal eyes, it was almost thin compared to the rest of the snow beasts they¡¯d been finding. That didn¡¯t stop it from trying to slam itself sideways into James, threatening to carry him off the cliff. James was having none of that. Tired and hurt was basically when he did his best work. As the snow beast came in, whipping its tubular body at him, he dove over it, landing flatly in the hardened snow behind the creature. A rapid twist, flailing in the loose white powder, made a larger hold from where he¡¯d landed and got him turned back around just in time to see it lunging again. So James mentally triggered his Route Horizon spell, and [Pave]d one of its eyes. The strike wasn¡¯t strong enough to break the rock away, not strong enough to kill it, but it did cause it to jolt back in pain. Roaring with a mouth that opened to show off a maw of razor sharp icicles. All he needed was a distraction. At his side, Zhu drew James¡¯ pistol and brought their hands together, the navigator stabilizing him while James wrapped his fingers around the grip and took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, Camille leapt into the fray. Camille just punched it. Once. Her fist, wrapped in one of the Status Quo gloves, impacted the rock of the snow beast¡¯s right eye in a tight probing jab. And the rock exploded. Shattering with a crack like a gunshot, shards of what was left leaving briefly visible trails behind in the air as they sliced through the snowfall. James lowered his gun as the woman stood over the collapsed corpse of the mobile snow bank, looking down like she was confused. ¡°Tharrgl.¡± He said. Or something like that. James tried to offer thanks, or check on her, but all that came out was a wheeze. Also his throat hurt. A lot. He touched his neck and his glove came away slicked in blood. ¡°Ow.¡± Camille turned to him, offering a hand up, and James saw that her face was dripping blood from a hole in her cheek. Wide eyed, he pointed at her injury, then at his own neck. Cam touched her own face with the smallest wince, then tilted her head at him. ¡°Stay calm.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice ordered James. ¡°Get the climbing hooks and rope set up. I¡¯m going to go get Nik. Keep pressure on your injury.¡± James nodded, pressing his fingers against the hole he¡¯d gotten when Cam had set off a rock like a fucking grenade. Zhu¡¯s feathers and supporting tail vanished, peeling away from him as the navigator shot away in an arrow of light. Over the edge, then down at a right angle. James directed Cam, using his free hand and bonus ice claw as best he could to get stuff set up. Camille had to do a lot of the work, but she only had to be shown something once before she took to it easily, and she¡¯d learned this before even coming in to the dungeon. The next person up over the edge was Alanna, hauling a panting Nikhail behind her. She yelled something that the wind ate, and James waved her off, sitting in the snow while Nik¡¯s authority bloomed out in a flare of green light and slender probing digits. They needed to keep moving, which meant getting everyone else up. Alanna was snarling under her goggles and mask, but she got to work anyway. While James had a piece of stone shrapnel pulled out of his neck, the hole filled in with something that stung, and his missing blood replaced by Nik¡¯s own Climb magic, Alanna was hauling people upward as fast as she could. Bill and Lacey came first. The big man panting as he collapsed over the edge, and the new girl stumbling up behind him like her arms were made out of jelly. The next pack up wasn¡¯t people, but the stuff they needed to set up the pulley system for the sleds. They¡¯d gotten faster and faster at setup with every wall the last few days, and they¡¯d need all of that now to get the expedition moving before they got buried in the storm. Then a cannonball of an ice ball crashed into a swell of snow about fifty feet away, and James pushed Nik away to yell at Alanna, his voice hurting but functional. ¡°Get a fucking camraconda up here!¡± She shot him a thumbs up. James struggled to get his face covering back up, his skin already feeling like it was going to crack from the frigid air. ¡°Nik, go help Cam. I¡¯m good.¡± The medic didn¡¯t look like he believed him, but Cam wasn¡¯t invincible, and she was still bleeding. James stood and looked out over the field ahead of them. Snowdrifts as tall as him dotted the plain, but no trees or rocks that he could see. Only a handful of traffic lights, flickering between yellow and green. There wasn¡¯t a pattern to them, they weren¡¯t on a grid or anything familiar. They just stood out in the darkening gloom, casting glowing auras onto the pure white snow around their metal bases. In the distance, he could see the corner of a structure. A building that showed flashes of itself through the blizzard that was rapidly growing in strength around them. James couldn¡¯t tell how tall it was or if it was intact, but if they didn¡¯t find shelter soon, they¡¯d need to telepad everyone out. And with the wind coming in at his back, there would be no safety just huddling at the bottom of the cliff this time. Another smooth chunk of ice crashed to the ground like a meteorite from the heavens. They seemed to be falling across the flat expanse between the little ridge he found himself on, and the safety of the building. It wasn¡¯t the first time a seemingly safe spot was surrounded by falling projectiles, James wondered if this place intentionally did this; set up killzones around the buildings with the storms if you weren¡¯t fast enough. If anyone did end up as an ¡®experienced¡¯ delver here, that kind of knowledge would push you to move faster. And, with this kind of terrain, moving faster meant mistakes. Meant injuries. Or worse. Then James had to stop worry about that, because he realized something about the snow banks. ¡°Cam!¡± He yelled back, causing the woman to turn and get a swear out of Nik as his attempt to patch her up was interrupted. ¡°Cam get up here!¡± She strode through the snow like it wasn¡¯t there, leaving a parallel trail to where James had walked. ¡°I will accept my punishment for injuring you.¡± She spoke just loud enough to be heard, her voice slightly slurring from the blood filling her mouth. ¡°No. What? No.¡± James realized he wasn¡¯t talking loud enough as he stared at her. So he just shook his head as Zhu rejoined him, and pointed with an arm out to the street lights and their green and yellow glow. The snow was moving. Every one of those dozens of snowdrifts, like dunes in the cold expanse, was another one of the creatures they¡¯d just killed. And they were waking up, adding their hunting roars to the wind as they began to shamble toward the ridge. Next to him, Camille tensed up, one hand dropping to the mace she had hanging at her side. Behind them, Spire-Cast-Behind slithered awkwardly through the rough trench Camille had left, their digital voice barely able to be heard yelling about how the others were on the way up as fast as they could go. ¡°Cover me!¡± James ordered Cam, as he sighted down his gun at the closest creature. James was sitting at the second level of Aim, and probably wouldn¡¯t get any more for a very long time. Which was a shame, because he could have really used it, and he regretted splitting one of his level ups into Agility right now. As he drew a bead on his target, his ongoing marksmanship training kicked in. Then his skill ranks filled in gaps and amplified what he already knew and had learned himself. Then his lesson added information and instincts he never had on top; projected target movements, wind speed, recoil, the odds that one of those ice spheres would intercept his shot. James didn¡¯t consciously process most of this; instead, he let it all flow through him, and did what he¡¯d practiced a thousand times, and hit the target. Or at least he tried to. James was really good, but sniping a fist sized rock out of a moving mass of snow during a building blizzard was a little beyond him. He got it on the third hit, the first one going wide and the second blowing a puff of snow out to join the rest of the snowflakes being shoved around by the wind. The creature screamed like the sound of cracking glass fed through an amplifier, stopping its shambling forward motion to fling itself back and forth. But it wasn¡¯t the end, others kept moving to take its place, and James kept firing. Spire-Cast-Behind started freezing targets, which made his job easier, but there were at least a hundred of the things. James was burning through reload charges on the bracelet tucked under his armor, but he knew if he could stall them long enough, the others could reinforce him. And that was soon proven right, as the people Alanna was pulling up brought with them the heavier weapons the Order had packed, and added themselves to the firing line. Rifle shots took chunks out of the creatures, and while shattering their eyes was a good way to end them, enough damage to their mass would do it just as well. As the sky darkened and the storm rolled over, someone lit off some of their flares and launched them out onto the field, red chemical fire joining the yellow and green of the traffic lights. When Momo joined them, she laughed loud enough to be heard over the howl of the gale and the bark of gunfire, and simply started pointing like a conductor, her targets collapsing every time she made a motion. Then a thirty pound ball of ice hit her in the leg, and she folded with a scream and a wet crunch. Nik and Deb got to her fast, but it was hard to focus when the sky was trying to kill you. Still, she¡¯d done her damage, and the horde was greatly diminished. Enough so that the rest of them seemed hesitant to keep up their charge across an open killing field. James raised a hand to halt the shooting as the survivors broke away, fleeing back out of the glow of the scattered lights. There was even a pause in the wind. Not the snow, which was still coming down like it wanted to drown them, but the wind briefly stopped. And the world was silent except for the yells of the expedition pulling up the cargo sleds. Within half an hour, the wind was back, but they¡¯d safely gotten everyone up. Momo, given some kind of powerful painkiller by Deb, was loaded onto Rudger¡¯s back and watched over by Rufus. James took her place helping to pull on of the sleds, and they followed Ethan¡¯s advice to loop their forward path around the street lights that were stuck on green. Not for any particular reason, it just seemed like the kind of thing the dungeon was watching. With a pair of camracondas dozed with reflex coffee keeping sharp watch, and everyone pushing themselves to exhaustion knowing there was safety ahead, they made it across the half mile of open snow in under an hour. The building, still standing and with most of the first floor buried in the snow that swept against its walls like cold spiderwebs, was accessed by circling to the courtyard that was obscured from sight by the direction they¡¯d approached, and getting in through a shattered window on the ground floor. It was dark, damp, still below freezing, had icicles hanging from doorways, smelled like mildew and rot, and it seemed like every surface that could possibly give you tetanus was jagged or sharp. But the wind couldn¡¯t get in, and the roof held up to the first dozen massive ice spheres that hit it, so James thought it was the perfect place to make camp. _____ The humans said the building was a dormitory. While the others secured the ground floor and the balconies around the common room that they were setting up camp in, Keeka started a fire. The ratroach liked fire, quite a lot. It was ephemeral, it ate whatever it could, it would kill you if you weren¡¯t careful, and it had somehow been the basis for all of the civilizations that weren¡¯t built in a place like his origin. It was also beautiful, in its own way. Violently ugly, but dressed up in pretty colors. It made him feel comfortable in himself, because it reminded him that he could be the opposite. ¡°First we make sure the wood is dry.¡± He instructed the other ratroach helping him. Keeka wasn¡¯t the best at Office magic, but he had managed to absorb a blue orb that let him [Modulate Humidity], and that translated to letting him pull the water from firewood they¡¯d been stocking up on. He had an unfolding metal camp pot to move the drained water into, sort of. He wasn¡¯t good with the spell yet. ¡°Then we need kindling.¡± The other ratroach watched him carefully as he added firestarter pellets, and then handfuls of shredded paper and dry grass from a pouch on his own gear. ¡°Airflow makes it burn hotter, so the wood catches.¡± Keeka added as he stacked smaller pieces of wood in a cone, before adding larger pieces around the outside. Then he pulled back from the fireplace that they¡¯d cleared out. ¡°And then¡­¡± he flicked the lighter he had been given as a gift before embarking here, needing a few tries with fingers he still wasn¡¯t used to in order to get the spark to catch. But when he held the flame to his creation, it caught quickly. And as he carefully tended to it, the fire began to burn the larger pieces of wood. Soon, the heat in the room would be more tolerable than the negative forty centigrade that it was now. The building had holes in it. But the construction team were setting up tarps to seal off the doors into this area. And James and Bill were wandering around to the gaps where heat was leaking out of the building, and applying [Thermodynamic Tunnel]s liberally, pulling the warmth back inside as soon as it tried to escape, plugging the leaks. The two of them looked miserable doing it, and Keeka felt quite bad for James who had said that he could taste the oxygenation potion that he¡¯d needed to drink to use that much Breath at a time and not die. He¡¯d still rather that James not die. Keeka liked James. A lot. The other ratroach near him shifted, and Keeka smiled, the toothy grin stretching across his muzzle without pain or dripping corrosion, which he still reveled in even having had this new body for months now. ¡°This looks good.¡± He said of the fire. ¡°Now! While they clear rubble, we set up food.¡± Many of the delvers, despite being bone dead tired, were clearing the floor of the main hall. Hauling off decaying couches and rotting armchairs, piling the scrap in what might have once been a janitor¡¯s closet. Keeka found it very suspect that there was still a leather couch that was in near perfect condition, save for some snow piled against it where it had helped block a shattered window, as well as a desk in the small office that was practically pristine compared to the rusted ruin of a computer sitting on it. But he would take what was offered, suspicion or not. Nearby, Deb had Momo laid out on a folding cot, inspecting the girl¡¯s leg while Momo giggled at something that Keeka didn¡¯t quite understand. Nik had said it was because of the painkiller, which didn¡¯t make sense to the ratroach, but he trusted the medics to know their field. He trusted everyone here, really. Even his new friend. ¡°Bring the frame from the sled.¡± He told the other ratroach. ¡°Now we set the pot over the fire, and let it heat up.¡± It was so strange giving someone instructions. Keeka didn¡¯t know when he¡¯d become his own odd little expert. But he knew that no one here wanted to eat a cold meal, today of all days. And unfortunately, the lunchbox of holding lunch didn¡¯t take kindly to keeping things warm. So he dug through and pulled out container after container of soup, preparing to heat them up the old fashioned way and have something pleasant to serve. Knife-In-Fangs joined Keeka as the camp began to take shape around them, with the cargo sleds being unpacked. The camraconda helping to set up their serving area, and bring out side dishes and drinks for the ravenous crowd of delvers. The two of them worked quietly together, the camraconda humming out a little song to himself as they did so, with the new ratroach watching carefully. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s going to get harder?¡± Knife-In-Fangs asked as Keeka stirred the soup pot. ¡°Climbing?¡± The ratroach asked, pulling off his outer coat as the fire began to do its job and the mostly sealed room heated up. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like being a passenger.¡± Knife-In-Fangs grumbled. Keeka gave an airy giggle at the irony of the statement, and the camraconda rolled his head around in a loop at him. ¡°You laugh, but you have legs! I want legs.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Keeka asked, curious. He¡¯d talked to Knife-In-Fangs before a few times in their shared support group, but this was different from how he thought of the pale orange and white camraconda. Knife-In-Fangs twisted abruptly to stare up at the upper floor balcony, zeroing in on a sudden sound. But he relaxed when calm voices carried on, and an all clear was called down. ¡°No.¡± He answered Keeka. ¡°I am complaining. You are meant to commiserate with me.¡± ¡°I¡­ I could do that¡­¡± Keeka felt a wave of uncertainty. ¡°But¡­ also we could¡­ get you legs?¡± Giving the ratroach a tilted look with his narrow camera head, Knife-In-Fangs irised his eye at Keeka. ¡°That seems as if it would make me odder than I already am.¡± Keeka shrugged with his lower set of arms. ¡°You have arms.¡± He pointed out. Though he knew the mechanical packs the camracondas were wearing were not doing well at these temperatures. ¡°I will consider legs.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said. ¡°I am going to unpack the serving dishes. Everyone is hungry.¡± The casual statement of intent and information was characteristic of how a lot of camracondas spoke, and Keeka found it comfortably refreshing compared to the less vulnerable way humans often were. James often told him that it was okay to be vulnerable. That being scared wasn¡¯t uncommon, and that if they could all trust each other, it would all work out. But James himself was so hesitant to show that same vulnerability. Sometimes he was okay, but¡­ Keeka had spent three years fighting for his life, and the trauma from that would, his therapist said, probably never leave him. There would always be scars, and marks, and pain. And he accepted that. It did hurt, but he could keep growing anyway, especially with people like Arrush and James and Anesh in his life. But James had spent thirty years living in a world that punished vulnerability. Not as bad as Keeka¡¯s world had, but badly enough that he could see the scars in the man he was attracted to. Not always, again, but sometimes. Keeka sighed to himself, the rush of air helping him focus. He was getting distracted in his thoughts, and he could do that later when he lay down to sleep. ¡°Here.¡± He said, scooping the first bowl of soup and handing it to the other ratroach. ¡°There is plenty for everyone, so you can eat as much as you want. We made extra for if anyone like you showed up.¡± The other ratroach stiffened, claws stretching out as it reached for the bowl. Its eyes glinted like it was trying to decide if it should fight or run. But Keeka didn¡¯t react, instead just offering the soup, and the ratroach slowly kept reaching out to take the dish from him, yanking back and spilling some of it to the cold concrete floor that they¡¯d already stripped the rotting carpet off. It didn¡¯t eat, instead just staring at Keeka, eventually tilting its head in a questioning stare. ¡°How?¡± Keeka asked, and the new friend nodded slowly. ¡°You look like me.¡± He said, sorrow creeping into his voice. ¡°I¡¯m glad! Really. But¡­ none of them¡­ look like me.¡± Keeka shrugged with both sets of arms, the chitin and fur on his body rippling as he rolled his limbs. And then, he acted with vulnerability, pushing away his fear as best he could. ¡°You guessed wrong, that¡¯s all. But it¡¯s okay. We brought extra food. And we¡¯ll find a place for you to sleep if you want!¡± Keeka tried to pretend he hadn¡¯t noticed the delvers that were very carefully watching the confrontation, just in case the new friend decided to do something stupid. The new ratroach split the difference. Not accepting, but also, not staying. There was a pulse of something that shoved at all the infomorphs manifested in the space, pushing and deforming them slightly in a shockwave that originated from near Keeka. And then there was one less person in their group. Keeka had the feeling he had been talking to someone, but couldn¡¯t quite remember what about. But he felt sad, for some reason. His sadness was set aside as he got back to the much more important job of making sure Alanna got served hot soup and bread and a container of salad before she made good on her promise to eat one of her fellow delvers. If it was important, Keeka was sure he¡¯d remember later. For now, he was going to make himself useful. Chapter 259 ¡°If the hope component is the affective driver of the ideal self, and the core identity is the personal context, then the dream or image of a desired future is the content of the ideal self. It is the picture of what is hoped to be.¡± -R. Boyatzis & K. Akrivou, The Ideal Self As The Driver Of Intentional Change- _____ After a couple hours of relaxing and making casual conversation, James was starting to feel restless. It would be another six hours or so before he was actually tired enough to sleep, unless he forced it. They did have a bunch of the wisdom coffee with them, and James knew from his own personal experimentation that making a frozen drink out of the stuff would both temporarily eliminate the ability to worry about anything and also knock him out pretty fast. Which was great, but he felt like using his time. The lobby of the building that they¡¯d set up in was the cleanest place they could find from poking around the hallways that spread out from where they¡¯d breached the structure, and everyone had cleared enough space and made it pleasant enough with setting up bedding and card tables and camp chairs. The warmth rising up to acceptable levels was also pleasant, as it offered a chance to strip away the dry suits, parkas, and armor plates. Sloughing off what felt like thirty pounds of gear and getting to use melted snow and a clean washcloth to wipe down his limbs was the closest James had gotten to nirvana in a while, so that was nice. But he also wanted to see what else the building they were in had to offer, so that armor had gone right back on as he prepared to leave the mostly secured area. They still hadn¡¯t seen any new friends here, so everyone was on guard against that eventuality, and no one wanted to take a building this deep into the dungeon lightly. ¡°You wanna come along?¡± James asked Alanna as he made sure his weapons were in the right places. ¡°Actually I¡¯m not feeling great? Have fun though. I¡¯m gonna check on Momo.¡± ¡°Oof. Yeah, make sure she¡¯s doing okay.¡± James winced. ¡°I¡¯ll bring you back a magic hat.¡± He offered, probably incorrectly. Asking around, he found a couple companions who weren¡¯t either exhausted or in the middle of something. None of the drakes would fit through the halls comfortably, Simon hadn¡¯t wanted to leave Momo either, and Bill had just laughed at him when James had asked, but Spire-Cast-Behind and Ruby had said yes, so James set out with a motley mixed crew to see what was hidden behind the place¡¯s doors. Pushing past the taped up tarps set up like an airlock that were keeping the heat in, he was glad he¡¯d put the cold gear back on. It was cold out here, even with their one room warming up part of the building. His hands and face, comfortably warm a second ago, felt like he¡¯d just dunked them in liquid nitrogen as the below-freezing chill hit him like a slap. Spire didn¡¯t react, but Ruby started muttering swears as her body rippled and a fluffy coat appeared around her. ¡°I am incredibly curious,¡± the camraconda said as they followed just behind James on his left flank, the two experienced delvers tossing scraps of rock forward down the shattered and rotting hallway at anything that looked like a trap as they slowly made their way forward, ¡°does that not leave you as cold as you would be regardless?¡± Ruby cocked her head to the side. ¡°Maybe!¡± She settled on. ¡°I hadn¡¯t really thought about. I feel warmer, though, so maybe it¡¯s a placebo.¡± ¡°¡­the human musicians?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind asked. ¡°A placebo is when you tell someone that a treatment does something, even though the treatment cannot possibly do anything, and it works anyway.¡± James explained. ¡°The band is named for the phenomena.¡± The camraconda gingerly grabbed a piece of broken linoleum off the floor with her manipulator arm, and then winged it forward as fast as the impaired mechanical limb would allow. It hit half a blackened bulletin board on the left wall, which then cracked further as the wall behind it ¡®fell¡¯ sideways, the frame of a janitor¡¯s cart and a swarm of glass shards from a broken window tumbling through the gravity trap as left became down fifteen feet ahead of them. ¡°Are you sure that your world did not have magic before us?¡± She asked James. ¡°Psh. No.¡± He wasn¡¯t stupid, he knew what he thought of as ¡®normal life¡¯ as pretty fucking weird a lot of the time. ¡°Actually, I have some weird history facts I can share that make me think wizards are real.¡± ¡°Later. I am in line for a Sewer lesson and I might get history.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind told him as the trio backtracked to the last intersection. The hall widened as they stepped off of bare concrete still bearing marks from its construction - James filed that away for later, since no one had ¡®built¡¯ here - and it felt suddenly like they¡¯d just stepped out of a maintenance corridor. James had thought this place was a dormitory, but here, wider halls with walls that bore cracked paint and crumbling drywall made it feel like¡­ he didn¡¯t know what, exactly. One of the fluorescent lights overhead flickered on, and Ruby yelped in time with a gunshot as she blew a hole in the ceiling next to it. ¡°Stop that!¡± James barked, reaching out to push her gun arm down. The bar of white light buzzed slightly, but mostly held steady, casting deeper shadows on the already darkened hall but giving them enough light to see by. Sunken alcoves every fifty feet held sturdy doors, some of them still intact with their brass handles and hinges still holding on against entropy. Another hall interested this one a hundred feet down, and James could see the floor was covered in dirt from a shattered plant pot that sat next to a toppled wooden bench. He almost let Ruby shoot the traffic light that looked like it was growing out of the ceiling over the intersection when it flickered to life and displayed a blinking yellow arrow. A staccato rattling came from the mostly shattered window at the end of the hall at their backs, the storm outside in no way having let up. James wondered briefly if they would need to brave that weather to progress, and from there if they would progress. Already, they were higher up than anyone had ever been, and the Climb was reacting with increasing hostility. Nothing dramatic, just¡­ more. More traps, more monsters, more times when they had to pick scaling a wall over taking a switchback or a cliffside path. More ice, more snow, more wind. How fast would the wind speed get here? Mars¡¯s instruments already clocked it at over eighty MPH, now that they¡¯d been swallowed up by the blizzard. Would it get worse? Probably. ¡°Why are we standing around?¡± Ruby asked in a whisper. ¡°Wasting time for fun?¡± ¡°We¡¯re waiting.¡± James and Spire-Cast-Behind said at the same time. He continued while the camraconda hissed a laugh to herself. ¡°To see if anything jumps out at us, or if there¡¯s more traps. Buildings tend to be more trap than monster here, though.¡± James crouched down to pick up a pebble of concrete from the hall they¡¯d walked out of, and tossed it down the lit path ahead of them. Nothing. He tried again, aiming for a dangling brass plate hanging by one of the sets of doors. They crept forward, and James indicated the doors on the left side. When the traffic light at the intersection ahead flicked to red, his heart almost stopped, but there didn¡¯t seem to be any kind of magic associated with the thing. It was just lingering here, being creepy. When he placed a hand on the door¡¯s brass handle, the fluorescent light tube flared up, a line coming out of it like it was a scanner in a sci-fi film. James, feeling pretty smug at having known something like this would happen, had already grabbed Ruby and was diving back to where Spire-Cast-Behind had lagged behind them as the beam swept from the top corner over the door, down to the floor, around the hallway, and then up to the other side. The surface under it smoked, every trace of anything that wasn¡¯t the wall burning away. ¡°Oh!¡± The camraconda exclaimed as James and Ruby picked themselves up off the floor, James feeling like his elbows were going to be bruised for the rest of his life. ¡°It¡¯s clean here! Of course!¡± She realized what had made her worried even as she clumsily unslung one of her hand crossbows and put a metal bolt through the tube of the light trap. The light popped easily, going out in a flare of white that thankfully didn¡¯t scorch the hallway around it like the trap itself did. Kicking glass shards out of the hall, James tried the door again. ¡°Oh god.¡± James gasped, stepping back from the open breach in the dungeon. ¡°What? Are you injured?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind shoved past James, prepared to freeze anything in its tracks if need be at his reaction. The camraconda¡¯s bulk and strength almost taking James off his feet as they slammed into his flank while whipping their camera head around the corner of the half of the door still closed. There was nothing there. Spire-Cast-Behind was confused. It was just a room. Possibly trapped or hiding concealed ambushers, but just a room. The doors had opened onto an upper layer, which was interesting; soaked and rotting carpet covered small stairs down an aisle, and the doors fifty feet to their right had their own aisle through as well. Rings of broken seats and small folding desks were set every level down, torn foam padding and marred wood adding to the sense of decay in the room. At the bottom, it leveled out to a sort of basin, where demolished electronics and a device that looked similar to the ritual object the Order used to duplicate magic sat. Two and a half towering whiteboards formed a rear wall, all of it illuminated by warm orange overhead lights. Of course, the hole in the structure, like something had taken a bite out of it, was worrying. From here, Spire-Cast-Behind couldn¡¯t see anything except grey clouds and the snow coming in and forming a pile over half the room. But it didn¡¯t seem like there were threats. ¡°Sorry!¡± James said from behind her. ¡°I just had a flashback to going to a final on the wrong day and then dropping out of college for two years in shame.¡± Zhu sleepily fluttered under James¡¯ parka. ¡°I should go to college.¡± The navigator murmured into James¡¯ ear before drifting off again, dreaming while manifested. ¡°I don¡¯t know what any of that means.¡± The camraconda tried to make it sound like she was scowling. ¡°Nothing import-¡° James stopped talking without preamble and shot an arm out in front of Ruby as they clustered at the top of the steps. One of the lights overhead had swiveled toward them, and he reflexively prioritized protecting the others over his own well being, which turned out to be a terrible idea as the light flared into a brief beam of coherent light that burned away his parka, melted his arm guard, and deformed one of his shield bracers, with the parts that didn¡¯t hit the metal splashing through the sear his flesh and elicit a howl of pain. James flicked the rest of his bracers to laser bolt which he assumed would count since that had never been an option before, just in time for six other light fixtures to swivel their way. ¡°Take those out!¡± He ordered. Ruby already had her gun out, and in between the shields flaring around them as they intercepted shots, her heavy revolver barked out retorts. James joined her as soon as he fumbled his own gun up, the fingers on his left hand not working properly. But once he had the pistol steadied, he took out the remaining lights and left the lecture hall quiet again, if slightly darker. ¡°Ow! Fucking ow!¡± James hissed as he kept his pistol out. ¡°Oh god, it feels¡­¡± He didn¡¯t even know how to describe it. Like that time he¡¯d touched the inside of the oven by accident, except all over his forearm. Tears welled up in his eyes, pooling in his goggles and soaking into the foam. ¡°I need to go back, I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t safely explore like this.¡± He admitted, trying to force the words out without screaming. It was oddly easy to stay calm when it was performative for the others, though. ¡°Okay. Do we check the room?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind asked. ¡°Yeah, I can do that.¡± As they crept down the stairs, weapons out, Ruby cleared her throat. ¡°I¡­ thank you.¡± She said simply. ¡°I think I was wrong about you.¡± Something about that statement made James bark out laughing through the pain. ¡°No! I don¡¯t even care what that means!¡± He said as he wheezed out laughter. ¡°That¡¯s fucking hilarious.¡± They swept the area, alert for any more still worse traps. Spire-Cast-Behind found one in the form of an exposed pipe in the floor that burst into super-cooled steam when they neared it, but while it did cut off visibility in an area, no one was hurt even while it kept spewing. Another gravity trap in the ceiling also threatened to take James into the floor overhead when he neared the projector, but that was dodged neatly as well. The whiteboards, on inspection, were covered in drawings in red and green marker, and seemed to detail some kind of ritual. Either worship or magic, it was unclear, but it seemed to focus on a central draconic figure, though it looked like it was made by a college professor too tenured to care about stable handwriting. They documented the whole thing, and took everything on the desks and tables that wasn¡¯t nailed down. Pens, a graphing calculator that looked like it still worked, a screwdriver and a box of thumbtacks from out of a drawer. And the real jackpot; a bookshelf in the corner that had, among the utterly destroyed tomes, a few intact spellbooks. Pathology, criminal psychology, regional mycology, and a heavily damaged intro to algebra textbook. From experience, James knew that last one would probably be a bad spell; magic from the Climb cost more and did less the more damaged the spellbooks were. But it was still a book that gave magic, so who cared? He really couldn¡¯t keep going though. His mind was going fuzzy at the mix of burning and freezing pain in his arm, and he needed to go back to get Deb or Nik to check him out. He hadn¡¯t even pulled his gear down to look at it, internally terrified of what it would look like, or that touching it would just make the injury hurt worse. The group backtracked, with Ruby offering a grumpier thanks that felt more sincere than the first one, and Spire-Cast-Behind glaring a camraconda scowl at the traffic light sprouting from the hallway as they passed it. When they made it back to the camp a few minutes later, James made it as far as garbling an explanation of having hurt himself before his Endurance gave out and he collapsed into cool unconsciousness. _____ Winter¡¯s Climb - Preliminary Report - Icy Climber Note : Current estimates place us at ~9,000 feet of ascent. This is the first time this has been encountered, and so is a piece of evidence that dungeons have a limit (artificial or otherwise) on how dangerous they are until explored deeper. The icy climber is a form of aggressive ivy that is attracted to sources of warmth. Vines are a dark brown with dark blue highlights barely visible on close examination, leaves are umbrella discs that cling to surfaces with tiny fibers on their edges. The vines do not grow leaves until exposed to temperatures above freezing, instead slowly extending from where they grow in five to ten foot diameter masses under the snow until they find a heat source. A team traced back the vines that were attracted to our shelter, and found they had covered almost a quarter mile of distance. The problem involved with this is both how far they can go - very - and how sensitive they are to heat sources - also very. The vines do not appear intelligent, but will continue to try different approaches until they can breach areas with above-freezing temperatures. Once they do, their exterior parts will settle into stillness, and their interior parts will begin growing their leaves. Observation and timing indicate they can grow one every forty seconds on average. Each leaf adds to the plant¡¯s overall effect, which is to siphon heat out of the environment. Unlike many dungeon effects, the icy climber doesn¡¯t seem to completely ignore the laws of thermodynamics, as once it has begun the process, it starts to grow clusters of ¡®berries¡¯ that consist of a thick gel membrane around a contained pocket of superheated plasma. When an area has been frozen again, the vines will continue to grow, seeking new heat sources. They do not grow or move fast enough to catch anyone who is aware, but could be a serious problem if delve teams drop their guard or are caught sleeping or alone. Note : No one has tried eating one of the berries. _____ ¡°Are you¡­ are you okay?¡± Keeka¡¯s timid voice snapped Deb out of her current important task, which was staring dead-eyed into the fire. She looked up at the ratroach standing before her, and reevaluated the thought that he was timid. He was being socially awkward, but Deb had spent a lot of time with Keeka, teaching him what was needed to reshape his body to his whim. She knew, from a few things he¡¯d mentioned, that he wasn¡¯t actually helpless. He was just hurt, and he felt it constantly. ¡°No.¡± Deb answered honestly, swinging her legs off the couch that they¡¯d managed to save and that she¡¯d been left to sit on and watch the fireplace. ¡°I¡¯m pissed.¡± ¡°At James again?¡± Keeka asked, and it looked like he had the hint of a grin on his muzzle. Deb eyed him with suspicion, feeling Mercy in the back of her head making a comforting roil of amusement. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ feh. Fine. I¡¯m a little pissed at James.¡± Deb shot a mental chuckle of acknowledgement back at the assignment she shared her head with. ¡°But no. I¡¯m pissed I can¡¯t do more.¡± Keeka poked at the fire, adding a few chunks of wood and a stack of loose salvaged papers before he sat on the other side of the couch. The way he moved made Deb feel like he was uncomfortable somehow, maybe from the fact that he had at least one tail tucked down into the snow pants he was wearing. He started to pull his digitigrade legs up, but kept slipping against the couch, before glaring down at the offending limbs with a tiny pout. ¡°You saved James¡¯ life.¡± He told Deb simply. And while coming from him, the words sounded like a religious incantation, Deb shook her head. ¡°I did some basic treatment.¡± She said. ¡°Nik stopped the venom. Fuck, the weird computer magic we have running six thousand miles and one dimension away probably did more than I did. Not that I feel bad about a computer taking my job.¡± ¡°You-¡° Keeka paused as there was a burst of laughter from another group on the other side of the big stone fireplace that dominated the center of what had once been a common area. He peered around, and mostly just managed to make out Ethan sitting on his bedroll and reclining against Rudger the drake, sharing pictures he¡¯d taken across the delve with a couple other people sitting with him. The ratroach made a soft smile, antenna twitching as he leaned back. ¡°You still helped.¡± He told Deb. ¡°Does it matter who did it, if what needed to happen, happened?¡± ¡°I¡­ hm.¡± Deb toyed with one of the straps on a piece of armor that had been left leaning against the couch. ¡°I was gonna say, of course it matters, but that¡¯s pretty American, huh?¡± Keeka made a chittering huff at her. ¡°You know I don¡¯t know about your world that well.¡± ¡°Oh, sorry!¡± Deb felt an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck. ¡°Uh¡­ a lot of American culture these days is about how if you aren¡¯t useful, you¡¯re supposed to feel bad, and it¡¯s fucking stupid. It encourages people to compete to get stuff done, instead of working together. Though I think a lot of people do know it¡¯s stupid, because people work together all the time. But the feeling is still there. Like I feel like a failure for not being able to fix everything, even though I know no one is gonna blame me. It¡¯s all just pointless guilt. If that makes sense to you?¡± Deb looked up and saw Keeka staring at her. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re pretty smart, so you probably¡­¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Keeka squeaked out. ¡°I do understand feeling guilty for not being useful. Thank you.¡± Both pairs of his hands pressed together in front of him as he said it, not breaking eye contact with Deb. Deb sucked in a short breath, nodding slightly for no reason in particular, before she just said ¡°Fuck, right.¡± And buried her face in a clammy palm. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Good!¡± Keeka replied cheerfully, then he cocked his angular head up to look at Alanna as the woman paused to lean on the back of the couch, eliciting a creak from the wood frame. ¡°Hello!¡± ¡°Hey spinny.¡± Alanna greeted him. ¡°Do you know where the coffee is? I¡¯m taking a group to scout the roof and check on the storm, and since James has so generously highlighted for us that parts of the building have venomous laser beams¡­¡± Alanna trailed off, eyes growing distant as she just stared over their heads. Keeka and Deb looked at each other before looking back up at Alanna. ¡°Are you sure you should be doing that if you¡¯re falling asleep on your feet?¡± Deb asked. ¡°Because I don¡¯t think that¡¯s smart, and I should know, I¡¯m the smartest person in this room.¡± ¡°Mars came with us.¡± Alanna said without thinking. ¡°Mars is outside with Bill, because he said something about ¡®reflexive weather conditions¡¯ and ¡®doing experiments¡¯.¡± Keeka helpfully told her. ¡°Also the coffee is stored on the second sled, but you sit, I will get you some and make it hot.¡± The ratroach sprang to life as soon as he had a task to focus on, hopping off the couch and ducking past where Camille was standing and staring out the one intact window to get to his goal. Deb didn¡¯t know what Cam was looking at; it was just solid snow. She also didn¡¯t comment that Mars being outside at all when they had the option to sit somewhere warm for the first time in three days meant she was still de facto the smartest person here. ¡°Okay, but you still look beat, girl.¡± She told Alanna. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m fine.¡± Alanna said, shaking herself. ¡°I took a few potions, had dinner, got checked out by an aggressively spiky woman who insisted I make sure I don¡¯t have frostbite. I¡¯m good to go.¡± She stretched her arms over her head with a satisfying series of pops from her joints. ¡°I refuse to be bullied for making sure you don¡¯t die.¡± Deb retorted. Alanna grinned back, like she was trying to imitate a shark. ¡°And I appreciate that!¡± Her smile faltered slightly. ¡°I also appreciate you making sure James didn¡¯t die.¡± She said. ¡°That was Nik.¡± ¡°Sure, but it was also you.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I¡­ okay, I don¡¯t want this to sound like bragging or some shit, but I got used to having people I was dating around?¡± Her smile turned lopsided. ¡°It¡¯s great, and they¡¯re all so goddamn wholesome, and now most of them are outside being safer than our dumb asses. So I kinda feel responsible for James, and he got hurt cause I was down here waiting for a potion to kick in and not tagging along. And maybe I¡¯m rambling and this is stupid, but you did make sure he didn¡¯t die, and that matters to me.¡± Deb snorted. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have died.¡± She said. ¡°At worst I think he would have lost an arm. Which, okay, yes, I say that out loud and I realize that is sometimes lethal and usually bad. But we can teleport to any hospital we want. His condition is very survivable, even if we didn¡¯t have magic. But we do. Well, Nik does, again.¡± ¡°Hey, soon you will too!¡± Alanna clapped a hand on Deb¡¯s shoulder, the friendly gesture feeling more like a titanic strike from orbit to the smaller woman. ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can find a few more books in this place. This building is fucking huge, did you notice that?¡± Before Deb could answer, Keeka reappeared, the ratroach¡¯s honey dipper antenna bobbing as he flowed like a person shaped river back to where they were talking. Throwing himself against the couch cushions, his left arms held up a thermos to Alanna like a trophy. ¡°Coffee!¡± He announced. ¡°Ready to go. Also take these.¡± His other hands held out a pair of shield bracers. ¡°Eh?¡± Alanna asked, even as she accepted the gifts. ¡°The ones James and Spire-Cast-Behind were wearing.¡± Keeka explained. ¡°Set to the traps that he¡­ that¡­ set to those traps.¡± He stumbled over his words slightly. ¡°This way you will be okay!¡± Alanna looked down at the bracers, then back up at Keeka, who stared at her with a face full of beady insectile eyes. ¡°You¡¯re a genius.¡± She said softly. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°When the¡­ when Arrush came back from here. The first time?¡± Keeka said abruptly, turning to look away from both the women, and ignoring another burst of laughter from the other relaxing delvers. ¡°He told me something James said. That we lift each other up. Has he said that to you?¡± ¡°Not¡­ exactly.¡± Alanna replied. ¡°I think he probably assumed I internalized that. Huh, he actually never stops doing that does he?¡± Deb raised a hand. ¡°To be fair, he does get in a lot of fights with people who¡­ wait, no, I just realized what happens to the people we fight half the time. Wait. Did James learn how to recruit staff from watching anime?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means!¡± Keeka replied with a cocked grin on his muzzle, small and even teeth poking out. ¡°But I know a secret. You can help, or be helped, and they¡¯re both good. So now I¡¯m helping.¡± He pushed off the couch, his lower arms swinging backward in a carefree motion that stabilized him as he landed deftly on the concrete. ¡°Be careful, and come back safe.¡± He told Alanna. ¡°And be kinder to yourself.¡± He told Deb. And then, seemingly realizing just how much the two were staring at him, a pale green creeping in around his eyes, Keeka bolted away. Deb sighed deeply, feeling her infomorph friend stir in her thoughts as she glanced over at Alanna. ¡°That kid is weird.¡± She said. ¡°It¡¯s kinda great.¡± Alanna agreed. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m gonna go try to disarm a bunch of traps possibly directly overhead. You wanna come along? Marlea¡¯s in, and so¡¯re Alice and Charlie, who¡­ I just realized I always think of as a singular unit? Why do I do that?¡± Alanna found her thoughts unfocusing again as she stared off into space. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Deb stood up stiffly, considering grabbing an exercise potion of her own from their supply. ¡°You know what? Yeah.¡± She said. ¡°Mercy, you want to join us, and make sure Alanna doesn¡¯t get distracted at the worst possible time?¡± A loop of pink and teal scales began to uncoil around Deb¡¯s waist, miles and miles of ethereal creature spiraling up around her body and shoulders to eventually lean a serpentine head on top of the toque she was wearing. Mercy didn¡¯t say anything, just let out a noise that was either a scream or a yawn and was somehow adorable whichever it was. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Alanna hadn¡¯t met Mercy for long enough to interpret that. ¡°She means yes.¡± Deb translated. ¡°I¡¯ll get my gear on.¡± _____ Bill was a pragmatic man. That was how he¡¯d always thought of himself, for as long as he could remember thinking of himself in a certain way. Oh, sure, he¡¯d been a teenager once. He¡¯d done stupid shit. Had his share of scars from taking dares from his friends on jumping their mountain bikes over¡­ well, various stuff. But that was pretty far behind him. For decades, he¡¯d been a pragmatic man. He¡¯d also only barely managed to get permission to come along on this trip from his wife. He loved her, really he did, but love and fear weren¡¯t mutually exclusive, and Bill had considered melting into a puddle until his wife¡¯s ire at him even asking had subsided. Melting into a puddle wasn¡¯t a superpower he had yet, but he worked with Momo pretty often. He was sure she could come up with something. Part of what had helped him calm the love of his life down was that he was here in a support role. No skirmishing with stickbugs or marching into a spike storm with a shield up front for him. Bill was here to setup and breakdown the machinery they were using to navigate their sleds up surfaces that didn¡¯t have paths or switchbacks available. And also to help out Mars when the kid needed a hand with something. And maybe to dig holes. Bill loved camping, back on Earth. And when he was done rolling over the phrase ¡®back on Earth¡¯ in his mind and grunting out a laugh, he thought about how much magic changed camping. When you camped, really camped, out in the trees without paying for power hookup, every camp was going to need a hole dug at some point. Fire pit, tent setup, latrine, something. Dungeon camping wasn¡¯t even close. But as he and Lacey, his loyal assistant for this whole affair, worked with Mars to stabilize the mount point for the infrared camera the engineer had brought, Bill finally found his particular skill set called up. ¡°So, what are you even looking for?¡± Lacey asked as they passed by the delvers on guard and back into the sealed off area, finally able to remove their goggles and masks and not feel their skin start to crystalize. ¡°And why not just do it while we were moving?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s really, really finicky.¡± Mars answered, running a hand through his curly red hair as he swept his hood off before continuing to carefully check the cords that trailed out to where they¡¯d left the equipment. ¡°If it¡¯s moving too much, it gets false readings.¡± ¡°So we stuck it out in the storm?¡± She asked with that kind of voice Bill mostly heard on teenagers when they thought they knew something and were being clever about it. He remembered using that voice. Hell, he still did, mostly when he and Mark were working on something and Bill knew slightly more about magic than the other man. ¡°That seems¡­¡± ¡°Kid, we just braced that thing perfectly.¡± Bill cut her off. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± ¡°Well, yes, that. But also it can account for small movements.¡± Mars was almost embarrassed as he interjected. ¡°Uh¡­ sorry. I mean, not that it¡¯s not important? But it¡¯s just easier if the landscape is static, and the software can¡­¡± Bill wiped a hand across his face. ¡°Sure.¡± He tried not to sound annoyed. If nothing else, it was important that no one go anywhere alone up here, so he wasn¡¯t totally useless. ¡°So, gonna switch it on?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh! I did!¡± Mars perked up as he stood at the salvaged card table that held a pair of laptops and too many cords for Bill to think this was safe. ¡°Wanna see?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Lacey drew the word out and beat Bill to it. He maintained his decorum by just offering a shrug, and watching anyway. He wished he had a beer. This felt like something you did with a beer. Mars set one screen to showing the feed, and another to doing¡­ something else. Bill wasn¡¯t even sure what the engineer actually did on a day to day basis, but he seemed to know what he was doing right up until phrases like ¡°Uh oh¡± got tossed out. But that didn¡¯t happen this time. Not at first anyway. And this time, it didn¡¯t come from the source anyone was expecting. ¡°Huh.¡± Bill said, the word like a knife in the quiet air as people clustered around to look at the feed. ¡°Is that¡­ an error?¡± ¡°¡­no¡­¡± Mars said, double checking everything, even resetting the whole system. But it stayed the same. The camera, pointed out in the direction they were probably heading tomorrow, angled slightly upward, caught flashes of something through the endless clouds and bitter snow. Just on the left edge of its vision, lines of the palest dusting of yellow, heat just barely above the background temperature of frozen nothing. They darted through the sky, never descending below the cloud layer. Whatever they were, though, they moved like twisting snakes, curving and darting around, sometimes slipping out of the camera¡¯s sight, sometimes gliding through it for minutes at a time. There were at least three of them, that Bill could count. He started trying to track them when he realized the shapes were slightly different. ¡°That¡¯s probably not good.¡± He settled on as the group watched the screen. _____ Twelve hours later, the clouds were still thick and grey. The wind was still howling so loudly that no verbal communication was almost utterly unworkable. But the snow was no longer falling. And after they¡¯d found a completely destroyed window on the third floor and dug out what was needed, the Order¡¯s forward scouts began to climb down the massive drift of snow that had threatened to encompass their shelter and move out onto the flatter ground. They didn¡¯t know what they¡¯d find ahead. Alanna¡¯s attempt to make it to the roof had failed due to a number of traps. Gravity shafts, explosive steam, even one that was a pulsing magnetic field in the middle of a hall. They¡¯d called it off and settled for just searching the building¡¯s lower rooms, and scouting the next day. And now the next day was here, and with the clearer skies, the shape of things could be checked out. For James, the shape of things was that he was gonna have an ache in his arm for a long time. Getting geared up had been an exercise in shooting pain every time he bent at the wrong angle to pull a strap or stick his arm through a sleeve. It felt like his muscles were hollowed out, and whatever Deb and Nik had used to bind the wound tugged on his skin in tiny ways where it was pressed under the drysuit. And for some reason he didn¡¯t understand, the gnawing fresh pain in his arm also made him acutely aware of the aches in his back, legs, and neck. At least he didn¡¯t have it as bad as Momo, who, despite not having a broken bone, had gotten the flesh and skin around her hip and knee absolutely pulverized in a way that would take a long time to heal without magic. And even with magic, they had to find the right magic for it first. But he shouldn¡¯t be focusing on that when he was supposed to be on guard against anything approaching around the group. So he waded through chest deep powdery snow, leaving a trail like he was doing calligraphy on the world itself, and followed Zhu¡¯s directions for where there was a good view of the next place to move. He also tried to not stare up into the clouds. Several of the delvers near him were; not because of the dire warning that Mars had provided that something living was absolutely hanging out up there, but because it was possible through the clouds to see ice forming. Light from a cold sun that no one could see cast the thick clouds in shadows, but without the blizzard obscuring their sight, it was possible with a sharp eye to see swirls where bits of ice were orbiting and coalescing. Sometimes they could catch glimpses of spiked balls or long needles of ice, just floating up there. Siege projectiles that seemed to form as naturally as anything in the dungeon did. ¡°Hey.¡± Alanna, sticking close to James¡¯ side and nudging him. ¡°Check that out.¡± She was making a show of being unconcerned with the snowflakes of Damocles hanging overhead, and trying to make less of a show of not being more than three feet away from James at all times. But what she pointed at was fascinating. The swells of snow that made the open field around the building look like a wrinkled blanket made seeing where they were headed a little hard until they could get a good vantage point. But even from here, it was possible to see that there was a long curve of a rock wall surrounding them on both sides. James was tempted to send up a drone while the air was calm, to confirm his suspicion that they were in a kind of basin. What Alanna was pointing at though wasn¡¯t the rocks, but something else. She handed James the binoculars she was holding, and he pulled his goggles down, braving the razor sharp chill to look. At the base of the cliff, a narrow gap at a harsh angle cut through the rocks; a path for progression that wasn¡¯t just deciding to climb straight up a wall. James lowered the binoculars and squinted. ¡°Huh¡­¡± He said as he tried to work out what he was seeing, before raising them again. There was no wind right now, and yet, there was a kind of drifting flurry of snow, dancing in the air, in a near perfect sphere around the base of that gap. ¡°Zhu, take a look at this.¡± He said, handing the binoculars to the navigator. Zhu held them in an extended feathered limb, his arm unaffected by the cold and extending out from James¡¯ own forearm. The eye he had manifested on James¡¯ shoulder swiveled to stare at his friend. ¡°How, exactly, do you see this happening?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure, I¡¯m thinking some kind of spatial warp.¡± James answered the wrong question while Zhu made a huff and tried to manipulate the binoculars to actually be useful for him. ¡°Do you see any more of these?¡± He asked Alanna. ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a couple back the way we came, and another over on the other cliff.¡± She said. ¡°Also? I¡¯ve used the word ¡®cliff¡¯ too much this week. It doesn¡¯t sound real anymore.¡± ¡°Noted.¡± James smiled into his mask, making a mental reminder to kiss her later. ¡°So, those mark¡­ progression paths?¡± He mused out loud. ¡°We know this place warps space and stuff doesn¡¯t fit together right. That could be a sign of it happening.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°It¡¯s been windy this whole time, we¡¯ve never gotten a moment like this to see it. Might be something like an orange totem there?¡± Zhu handed her back her optics while James looked over to where Ethan was waving him down. The younger man was standing on one of the hills of snow next to Marlea, pointing at something ahead and yelling. ¡°If this doesn¡¯t kill us, let¡¯s go check.¡± He grumbled as he covered his face again and let his skin start to warm up. ¡°Hey guys!¡± Ethan said as they approached, missing James grinning at Zhu¡¯s small pout over having been beaten to the spot by another navigator. ¡°You¡¯ll never guess what¡¯s up ahead.¡± ¡°Something horrible.¡± Alanna said instantly. James elbowed her in the arm, which she probably didn¡¯t even feel through the padding and plate. ¡°You¡¯re just cranky cause you¡¯re cold.¡± He climbed, letting Ethan help him the last couple feet over a small trench in the side of the snow. ¡°What do we¡­ oh.¡± Ahead of them, there was a shimmering blue line cut across the landscape. Exposed ice from where it looked like a titan had swept a blade across the ground just to carve up and show off what they were all walking on. Clumps of snow fell into the chasm sporadically, and James realized that they were looking at a breach that was maybe half a mile away, and probably that wide itself. It was a canyon that they had absolutely no way to bypass, and it looked like it split the whole dungeon. A single splintered wooden power pole stood on the chasm¡¯s edge, ancient looking wires dangling from it and swaying gently. On the other side, there was a three story structure of some unknowable purpose, concrete and wood warping and twisting as half of it balanced out over the edge, the whole thing threatening to drop if anyone walked into it. There was a dragon sitting on the flat concrete roof of the structure. It was watching them. It had to be, James figured. Nestled there among the frozen HVAC units. Even from this far away, it looked like a lawnmower crossbred with an angrier lawnmower and then grew wings. Metal plate across hide, wooden roots holding together gears and blades, a sinuous neck that raised up like a heron to stare across at the delvers. Marlea laid a pair of steadying hands on either side of Rudger as the paper drake shifted nervously, staring to scoot back as they were inspected. ¡°So that¡¯s an issue.¡± James commented. It was only about half the issue though. He was pretty sure they could kill that thing before it even got to them with the number of rifles they had in the expedition. What he was really worried about was that the steep mountain that rose up behind the dragon¡¯s nest and into the clouds also had a translucent blue wound through it. Exposed ice glowing in the day¡¯s light, except this cut wasn¡¯t in the ground. It went through the mountain horizontally. All the way through the mountain. James wasn¡¯t quite clear on how large that gap was at this distance, but the fact that he could see it at all from miles away meant that it was at least thirty feet thick, he was pretty sure. And that meant, if they wanted to keep climbing that way, they¡¯d need to both cross a massive chasm, and then get up onto a floating mountainside that was separated from the ground. ¡°I just had a brilliant idea.¡± Marlea said, ignoring the dragon and looking at the mountain itself. ¡°We¡¯re not climbing that.¡± Alanna informed the woman. ¡°No no!¡± Both of Marlea¡¯s bodies shifted excitedly. ¡°That¡¯s all ice, right? So that¡¯s, like, a whole mile of solid, perfectly smooth ice? And it¡¯s flat? We could host Olympic figure skating here!¡± James didn¡¯t have a clue how to respond to that. ¡°We¡­¡± he was going to shoot down the idea out of hand, but then felt suddenly weird about it. ¡°You know what? Maybe. We¡¯ll talk later.¡± He took a deep breath, feeling like it wasn¡¯t quite enough air. ¡°We cannot go that way, regardless. No fucking way.¡± ¡°I hate to agree with pessimism, but I agree with your pessimism.¡± Alanna said, grinning under her face covering as she mimicked one of James¡¯ favorite ways to make jokes. ¡°So, what now?¡± ¡°Now we check out the other paths up, I guess.¡± James said. ¡°Ethan, you guys take the right side, we¡¯ll take the left.¡± Ethan gave James an uncomfortable look through his goggles. ¡°You wanna split up now?¡± He asked, glancing up at the sky, then at the distant dragon that was still watching them. ¡°Terrible ideas keep life interesting.¡± Zhu said. ¡°You¡¯re one.¡± Ethan said. ¡°You haven¡¯t been around long enough to get bored!¡± ¡°You¡¯re only twenty five and you have?¡± Zhu shot back. James covered up Zhu, crossing his arm over his body and then hissing in pain. ¡°Children, please. You¡¯re both very young.¡± He got glares from both of them, one he could feel in his head. ¡°But Ethan¡¯s right. Let¡¯s go check the distortion, and then go from there. See if we find anything buried or some weird artifact, and then go back and make a decision.¡± They didn¡¯t find anything like a totem. The closest they got was a tire submerged in the snow, and a handful of spark plugs wedged into the rock. Digging up the area revealed nothing either. No weird structures that bent space, no orbs or crystals, certainly no books. And after consulting with the navigators, it seemed like there wasn¡¯t going to be any meaningful shortcut that would let them skip the icy breaches if they climbed this spatially warped gap either. Though Zhu did say it felt ¡°one way¡±, which was a great reason for James to not try it. James was starting to think this dungeon had a much tighter grip on its internal mechanics than the Office did. Than most dungeons they¡¯d been in, really. Heading back to the shelter they¡¯d claimed felt weird. They were empty handed, and more than that, they only had bad news about their ability to keep going. They just weren¡¯t prepared for this kind of thing. And they may never be either; this was the sort of thing that required them to have a whole party of heavily enhanced delvers, not an exploration team that included noncombatants and people who weren¡¯t prepared to do stunts that would get you in trouble with OSHA just for mentioning them. Following behind Rudger as the drake plowed them a little bit of a helpful trail back toward the window they¡¯d used to get out of the building, James stopped when Ethan and the drake both pulled up short. Following Alanna¡¯s point as his girlfriend let out a startled ¡°Fuck!¡±, James looked back at the open field of snow dotted with traffic lights and small dips in the ground that they¡¯d crossed last night to make it to shelter. There was a snow beast out there. This one was kinda chunky, with one big tube of an arm ending in a stony claw. But unlike most of the creatures they saw here, it wasn¡¯t lurking in wait and pretending to be terrain until someone got too close. Instead, it just stood there. ¡°It¡¯s not moving.¡± James voiced his curiosity. It looked like it had a kind of ring around it in the snow, too, though the whole thing, beast included, was half concealed by the edge of the building. He started walking forward to get a better view, and saw why Ethan had stopped and was holding a hand to his sidearm nervously. There was a creature sculpting the snow beast. James was tempted to call it a stickbug, because it looked like them a little bit. But the only similarity was in the material composition. This thing was ten feet tall, and probably would have been taller if it rose up. It moved on four delicate limbs while four more gently smoothed the surface of the snow beast, white and black speckled bark covering it all over. And unlike the other much smaller stickbugs, it had a head. It had a face, even. Deep black hollows in place of eyes, wood imitating a skull, with a pair of horns that swept outward and then back together over its head, points only an inch away from each other. It didn¡¯t look like it had an expression, exactly, but James got a sense of creative joy from the thing as it delicately pressed snow together into another arm for the snow beast. There were things that looked like pine boughs that ran down the length of its spine, but when it twitched, they splayed out, and showed themselves to be structures more like crystal wings than actual wood. He felt like he was watching something utterly unique in the world as the creature shuffled backward, and then started rooting around under the snow. James stared even as he fumbled to get a recording going. It was almost hilarious how goofy the monstrous skeletal thing looked as it flung itself toward the ground and plowed more snow away in its search. Then it came back up holding a rough black chunk of rock and a couple sticks. The sticks it pressed into the snow beast¡¯s new arm before covering them up with sweeps of its foot-long pointed fingers. The rock, it set into the creature¡¯s face. Then it let out a series of noises, like fragments of a chant. Individual syllables sung out as chirps as it circled the snow beast over and over. And then the snow beast stirred. Slowly, its arms stiffening as they suddenly had to support its weight. It leaned forward, its rocky eyes glinting with abrupt life as it looked around curiously, before it slowly yawned, lowered itself to the ground, and curled up, vanishing into the snow like it was just another lump in the landscape. The massive wooden figure straightened itself up, and it absolutely dwarfed the traffic lights near it. Twenty feet tall at least, it moved with a gentle and unhurried sweep as it looked around, massive wooden skull and horns twisting while it examined the space around it. James felt his blood chill as its gaze passed over their party, but it didn¡¯t seem to give a shit that they were there. But it did take a few steps away, crossing a lot of distance as its legs gingerly lifted and struck out in lightning quick motions, and then bent back down to start scooping up more snow. ¡°We should get inside.¡± Alanna said. ¡°And get a flamethrower.¡± ¡°I dunno, I think it¡¯s kinda cute.¡± Marlea said, staring at the behemoth creator. Everyone else turned to stare at her. ¡°What?!¡± She held her hands up. ¡°Half the people in the Order wanna fuck a camraconda but I can¡¯t think the big wooden guy who just wants to make snowmen is cute?¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°No, that¡¯s fair!¡± She admitted. ¡°It didn¡¯t seem to care we were here?¡± ¡°It might see movement. Or it might just not think we¡¯re worth eating.¡± James said. ¡°Zhu, you see anything weird about it?¡± The navigator fluttered on James¡¯ armor. ¡°Nnnno.¡± He sounded worried. ¡°Nothing about it, actually. It doesn¡¯t interrupt any journey. Even ones that would ram you straight into it. It¡¯s doing something.¡± ¡°Welp. I hate that.¡± Alanna snorted, and James agreed with her. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, clapping his hands and instantly regretting it. ¡°I¡¯m calling it. We¡¯ve dug deep enough, let¡¯s get everyone assembled, and get the hell out of here.¡± It wasn¡¯t exactly that simple. They still wanted to clear as much of the building as they could for more books or other potential magic, Mars wanted to test a few more things, Momo wanted someone to haul her to a hole in the wall so she could look at the thing that was making more snow beasts surrounding their hiding place, and a couple informorphs kept saying they felt like they were forgetting something. But as another storm started sweeping in, and the sound of ice spears crunching into the ceiling went from the sound of the weather deflecting to the sound of the weather putting holes in their shelter, it started to become clear that they couldn¡¯t keep the expedition going safely. Everyone agreed it was better to quit now before their injuries started to compound and the threats they¡¯d ended up in the middle of actively killed half of them. The whole expedition sat around the fireplace, sharing quiet conversation and talking about the things they were gonna do when they got home. Most of them involved showers and real beds, which James found amusingly familiar to the last one of these expeditions. He felt like he¡¯d be hearing that a lot in his life from now on. Interestingly, he realized, he¡¯d never actually left Winter¡¯s Climb by way of a fire. Every time they¡¯d camped, he¡¯d had to push away the question the dungeon asked, of if he wanted to leave. Everyone had. And he knew that someone must have done it before. But he¡¯d always telepaded out. Then the fire asked its question, and the expedition double checked that everyone was planning to say yes, before they all did so as close to at once as they could. James found his eyes drawn to the fireplace, as the orange and red of the flame curled on itself, forming a ring. And then it pulsed, expanding to a bubble that no longer showed flame, but instead, a small portion of dirt in the Australian Northern Territory. The fire wobbled a little, and James wondered if maybe they shouldn¡¯t have had everyone do this at once, just in case. But the forming portal stabilized, expanded again, and then rushed outward, sweeping over everyone and everything, depositing all of them, salvaged couch included, on the edge of a flat red rock on a dusty afternoon that was exceptionally hot to be wearing a parka on. Not everyone got exactly the same parting words from Winter¡¯s Climb, but they were all pretty close. For anyone who had been there before, they¡¯d be getting lower numbers, because the Climb cared about your high score, not how often you came in. But he still felt pretty damn good about it. [Cowardice, Kine, Tenacity Ascension : 9,956 ft Bestowal : +254 Breath Storage, +7 Available Learning] Okay, he felt a little worse than if they¡¯d gone just another forty four feet. But still. He also still hated that it was in feet, in Australia. But he wasn¡¯t planning to keep complaining until he managed to pull his gear off, and stop suffocating into his mask. _____ Winter¡¯s Climb Long Delve - Final Acquisition Report - Spellbooks With twenty people each with a minimum of six new spell slots opening up, knowledge of the newly acquired spellbooks has been processed in record time. Details are lacking for now, but we¡¯ll be able to fill those in as everyone chooses what they want and we get a clearer picture. For now, here¡¯s the basics. Sadly, no custom books were found this time, and to date, we still only have the one. It¡¯s unclear if that was meant to be a unique encounter, but the Climb doesn¡¯t seem in a hurry to give any hints as to how to replicate it if it¡¯s possible. Book : Principles Of Acreage Management, Sixth Edition (Minor damage) Spell Name : Process Procession Cost : 8 Breath Duration : One minute / six minutes Effect : Upon cast, the magic waits for the caster to take an action that could be loosely described as ¡®crafting¡¯. After the first minute, whatever action was taken is looped six times without the caster being involved. Small deviations like pulling from a depleting supply of materials work without issue. Book : Urban Botany (Moderate damage) Spell Name : Harvest Echo Cost : 22 Breath Duration : ~2 minutes Effect : After cast, if a plant or fungus is (not killed, harvested? Still nebulous) by the caster, an exact copy of the target is created out of ice. If ice is already present, then the ice will instead be transformed into an actual copy of the target. Book : Human Anatomy - (title indistinct, moderate damage) Spell Name : Altitude Adapt Cost : 41 Breath Duration : Indefinite, but costs 1 breath per ~minute Effect : Caster grows wings. The type of wings seem to vary, but are consistent by caster. (Bird or bat seen so far) The process of growing them is abrupt, gory, and painful, and the massive breath cost risks lung and brain damage to use without careful medical supervision. Both testers lost consciousness and dismissed the spell before the wings could be tested for flight. (Dismissing the spell causes the wings to break from the body, but not vanish.) Book : The - Mind, Criminal Psychology (light damage) Spell Name : Tautological Necropocentrism Cost : 3 Breath Duration : ~2 minutes Effect : Causes anyone perceiving the caster to contextualize them as dead. The fact that they are walking around and talking does not change that they are thought of as dead. Friends will think of them as having died at the moment the spell was cast, and will experience the emotional impact of that false event. Because the caster is dead, most suspicious activities do not register to anyone perceiving them, because they are dead, and dead people do not do things. Book : Guide To Bicycle Repair (moderate damage) Spell Name : Rot Eyes Cost : 9 Breath Duration : Instant Effect : Gives the caster knowledge of the location, health, and about one good wiki entry worth of information on every fungus within ~20 feet. Book : Aphotic Studies, Second Printing (mild damage) Spell Name : Frostwake Cost : 2 Breath Duration : Instant Effect : Seems to work a lot like other dash magic like the SQ greave, only through water, ice, or snow exclusively. If used while in water, it massively drops the temperature of the liquid moved through, which could be useful on its own. Book : Modern Construction - (title obscured, heavy damage) Spell Name : Cathedral Sanctum Cost : 181 Breath Duration : Permanent Effect : Untested, because that would kill someone outright. From the instinct the spell gives the bearer, it seems like it¡¯s meant to allow for creating some kind of spatial twist inside a structure. Real effect unknown. Book : Ars Mathematica -, Principles Of - (title obscured, moderate damage) Spell Name : Flare Calculation Cost : 10 breath Duration : Permanent (?!) Effect : Makes a single mathematical process easier. This is¡­ unclear? For obvious reasons, this is flagrantly unclear. James is watching me type this and he wants me to say this is utter bullshit, and cannot be trusted. He¡¯s yelling about how we could use this to talk to aliens if they exist. We don¡¯t know about this one, and we¡¯re hesitant to test it until we have a really really strict plan to follow. Book : History Of Balkan Conflicts (mild damage, interestingly this is the only one that namedrops a real place on Earth) Spell Name : Winter Wroth Cost : 4 Breath Duration : Instant Effect : Inflicts a wound as if from a blade at a range of roughly five feet, but only works on living things that aren¡¯t suspicious or acting to defend themselves. This one is fucked up. Book : Experimental Pathology (light damage) Spell Name : Call To Blood Cost : 3 Breath / second Duration : sustained Effect : Despite the name, what it actually does is sort of act as a dowsing rod for where someone was last injured. Bleeding, specifically. You need to know who the person is specifically, not just a category (we tried it with Status Quo agents), but the spell gives you a pull to where the person was last hurt, and if you get there, it jumps to the next most recent spot. Navigators love this one, and it sounds like it¡¯s going to open up some new options for those that take it. _____ Winter¡¯s Climb - Preliminary Report - Ambient Infohazard Post-delve recaps and discussion have quickly identified a massive problem with the expedition. Tools such as skulljacks, radio, and a variety of common use magics were brought along, but ceased use at various points. Full debrief and reconstruction of the delve will hopefully allow for an understanding of what happened and when, and we can initially start with a suspicion that the infohazard is tied to height climbed. But not even the infomorphs noticed that anything was wrong. The expedition¡¯s members simply stopped using the gear they brought along and didn¡¯t think about it, even though they put effort into continuing to carry and protect it. Research is looking for volunteers for a mixed assignment/navigator team to attempt a series of tests. Message Planner for details. Chapter 260 ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay. But it¡¯s going to be different.¡± -Unknown- _____ ¡°This week on the show!¡± Sarah¡¯s cheerful voice repeated the words like a soothing litany. ¡°Conversations with our nonhuman friends about how it feels to be nonhuman!¡± She settled down and dropped to a tone that was empathic, but firm. ¡°It is really, really easy for some of us to forget, sometimes. That eight billion people built a world for people with two arms and two legs and basic corporeality. And that here, in the Lair and the handful of other places we live, we¡¯re not the normal. And even when we¡¯re doing our best, we can miss stuff. Heck, we miss stuff with other humans. That¡¯s just life!¡± She paused, taking a breath and smiling at her interviewee for the episode. ¡°But we can always try to learn more. And use what we learn to build our not-normal world into something great. So, now that I¡¯ve said a million words, everyone say hello to Planner! Planner, introduce yourself!¡± ¡°I am pleased to be here.¡± Planner commented, in a voice like a pen scratching against paper. ¡°My full name is Planner, it would be gratifying if everyone would cease concerning themselves with a surname or nickname.¡± ¡°Now, I have a few questions.¡± Sarah said, stepping her fingers as she leaned toward her microphone and across the desk slightly. Her assistant took a picture to use as the cover image; a young woman in a sparkling blue shirt with owl designs all over it giving a careful look to several coiled tentacles, one of which was toying with a pencil on the desk, all of them ghostly green and emerging seeming from nowhere. ¡°My first question is kinda weird though. Are you actually here?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Planner¡¯s small noise was a complex signal of understanding what was being asked, and making it clear it wasn¡¯t a problem. ¡°Yes, currently I am in several places. And one of them is the Winter¡¯s Climb expedition. That is what you are curious about, yes?¡± ¡°Pretty much!¡± Sarah said, leaning back as her assistant gave them both a thumbs up. ¡°So, that seems like a good place to start, do you think?¡± ¡°I think I have brought more organizational notes to this interview than you did.¡± Planner sounded put out. ¡°Are you referring to my activity as a delver?¡± Sarah waved her hands back and forth across themselves. ¡°No no! Though that¡¯s also cool. I mean, you¡¯re¡­ split up? Is that the right way to say it? Tell us what that¡¯s like!¡± Planner¡¯s tentacles rotated, interlocking loops of false sea creature turning in opposition as they thought about it. ¡°That is a difficult question.¡± Planner admitted. ¡°Though drawing on the memories of others makes the comparison simpler to explain. I am not divided, because ideas do not exist anywhere physical. So long as I am being thought, I am me. It does not matter where. What matters is more the strength of my connection.¡± ¡°So, how¡¯s the delve going?¡± Sarah asked with a little bit of excited apprehension. ¡°I didn¡¯t get to ask anyone this last time there was a big expedition.¡± ¡°I am not manifested there.¡± Planner stated. ¡°And so my awareness is limited. I believe it is on schedule, however.¡± Sarah nodded, scribbling down a quick note of a question before she forgot. ¡°Well good! I hope they have fun! And¡­ you also have fun¡­?¡± Planner made an accepting motion somehow, and Sarah moved on. ¡°So you¡¯re manifested here, but you¡¯re on your own. How¡¯s that work?¡± Planner unfurled a few tentacles and let them settle on the desk in continually extending coils that somehow seemed neatly arranged. ¡°I have two responses.¡± They stated. ¡°Firstly, that question is alike to asking a human how their heart and lungs interact. Many people could give you a cursory answer, but it would be rather uncommon to find anyone who could go into detail. Even more so, that rarity of knowledge would be amplified if you were asking during a historical era that lacked education.¡± Several of Planner¡¯s tentacles crossed and Sarah got the distinct impression that she was being lectured, which drew a tiny smile to her face as she focused. ¡°However, this is the very thing Research, myself included, is studying. And so I can answer more completely. Assignments such as myself are optionally physical; manifestation allows us to spread ourselves, as well as to interact with the world, but it also tethers a large part of our focus. Manifesting requires reservation of the mental effort that sustains us, and that effort is eased by having our hosts able to process information about our manifestations. If one of my close bonds could see me, for example, it eases the mental load of thinking that part of me into existence. Distance also exponentially increases the requirements. Physical proximity is useful, to say it plainly.¡± Sarah bit her lip to stop a laugh at Planner saying anything was ¡®plain¡¯ about the explanation. ¡°Right now, though, there are twenty six close bonded and two hundred and four that I have lightly touched in this building. Here, I can be anywhere.¡± ¡°That¡¯s really cool!¡± Sarah exclaimed. ¡°So, when you¡¯re doing this, do you feel things differently?¡± Planner twitched slightly, as if they weren¡¯t expecting quite such an enthusiastic acceptance of what they¡¯d said. ¡°I¡­ yes.¡± The words slipped just a tiny bit as they were caught off guard. ¡°This body emulates sensations such as hearing and touch. Which is useful, as otherwise my senses must be intentionally pushed through the thoughts of a bond.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your favorite snack?¡± Sarah asked abruptly. ¡°My¡­¡± She nodded as Planner stared at her through a myriad of false eyes. Sarah didn¡¯t actually know where Planner¡¯s ¡®actual¡¯ eyes were, though that felt a little impolite to ask. ¡°Yeah! You hang out with Research all day, and I know for a fact they¡¯ve got a minifridge with a bunch of weird stuff. Every time I help out at Lair logistics, there¡¯s at least one package of Japanese snacks for someone in that basement. So what¡¯s your favorite?¡± Planner stopped moving, their questing tentacles supporting their form over the desk held completely in place. ¡°I had not thought to try that.¡± They said. ¡°Oh! Well, now you have an option?¡± Sarah blushed, realizing that this might have been a more personal moment than most people wanted on a podcast. Planner raised the pencil they were arranging on the desk up to their central mass, and one of their tentacles split open along a seam to reveal a triple row of needle point teeth. Gently, they bit down on the soft wood, leaving a row of imprints on the pencil before replacing it. ¡°It would seem so.¡± Planner said simply. Sarah cleared her throat. ¡°So, past the body stuff, I¡¯m interested in how life in a human world is like for you. What¡¯s your day to day like?¡± Latching onto the new question, Planner straightened up and went back to mechanically precise spins of their central limbs. ¡°Although my manifestation can grow tired, I do not tend to keep it active long enough to sleep. As such, my days are perpetual. But that aside, I spend much of my time in an adjunct role. I assist with schedules, communications, and info space defense. On average, I spend twelve to thirteen hours every day shadowing someone in Research, adding my perspective and somewhat unique protection to their activities, though who I follow changes.¡± Planner shifted in an opposition direction as they refocused on the original question. ¡°The majority human nature of the world is less of a burden for me than it might be for some under the Order¡¯s aegis. My hierarchy of needs is compressed into social fulfillment, which I achieve here without issue.¡± ¡°You¡­ you spend over half of every day working?¡± Sarah couldn¡¯t keep shock out of her voice. ¡°Planner, that¡¯s not okay! I know you said you don¡¯t need rest as much, but when do you have personal time?¡± Planner¡¯s scribble toned reply was not reassuring. ¡°No, I spend half of every day working with Research. I spend another six hours scattered through the day assisting Recovery with planning and locating. And another hour focusing on reinforcing and checking our defenses. My personal time is dedicated to streamlining small processes around the Lair, which I find satisfying. I have personally made the kitchen marginally more efficient by rearranging the utensil drawers.¡± The thought of Nate looking for an ice cream scoop and swearing at everything within a ten mile radius crossed Sarah¡¯s mind. ¡°I¡­ really want to believe you.¡± She said slowly. And then she changed tracks, letting the words come out in a rush. ¡°Actually, I choose to believe you. Nate, if you¡¯re listening to this, call me.¡± Sarah crossed her arms. ¡°But seriously, you work so much!¡± ¡°I am capable of being myself in multiple places.¡± Planner said simply with their version of a shrug. ¡°You are making a mistake, and I would like to correct it before it becomes a problem.¡± ¡°Of course!¡± Sarah invited. Planner¡¯s ghostly green form rearranged itself in right angles. ¡°I am not the same as you.¡± They said. ¡°Humans, camracondas, ratroaches, navigators, even inhabitors to an extent, you all see work as an expenditure of effort. And that effort must be replenished through relaxation, socialization, and distraction. There is nothing wrong with how you are. But I am not like you. What you think of as work is, to me, an extension of myself. It would be false to state that arranging a calender is similar to breathing, but not false enough. And I do not want you to change me to suit your own emotional needs.¡± Sarah nodded as she tried her best to internalize accepting Planner at their word. ¡°I know assignments sort of feed off of¡­ structured information?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°So is that why it¡¯s easy for you?¡± She asked. ¡°Or is easy the wrong word? Natural, maybe?¡± Planner made a noise like a checkmark in sharpie. ¡°Perhaps. Though natural may also be wrong. I am different from other assignments within the Order. More than anyone else in my species, I am an outsider. I was made to hurt you, and you changed me. And I do not resent that, perhaps because I have been changed, but it does mean I am different.¡± Sarah realized something suddenly. ¡°Is that why you don¡¯t want people thinking that you don¡¯t like your work?¡± ¡°It is one reason, yes. Enough of my hosts changing their minds about me, even in small ways, can change who I am. I am very stable, but that does not make me immune.¡± ¡°Is it okay to feel like that¡¯s scary?¡± Sarah asked in a quiet voice. Planner turned as they thought about it. ¡°May I touch your mind?¡± They asked suddenly. Sarah sat up straight, not having expected the question. Two instincts went to war in her thoughts; one part of her wanting to try everything and say yes to everyone, dueling with the part of her that had been a slave to an alien network that annihilated her sense of self for months of captivity. She saw Planner pull back, and realized she was breathing heavily. Sarah swallowed, and sucked in air, forcing herself to calm down by willpower alone. She hated feeling this way, hated herself, hated what was done to her. Sarah didn¡¯t hate things very often, but she refused to let herself be made afraid like this. ¡°Sure! Go for it!¡± Her voice was artificially cheerful, and she was certain someone would notice, but she didn¡¯t care. ¡°Just don¡¯t share anything weird.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Planner hesitated, but Sarah nodded at them and so Planner pushed one tentacle forward, coiling as gently as the infomorph knew how to be around the side of Sarah¡¯s neck and phasing into her head. ¡°It¡¯s weird that this doesn¡¯t feel weird! I¡¯d expect this to feel weird.¡± Sarah stated. Planner ignored her, but did pull back, and then said something that sounded inconsequential. ¡°While James and Alanna were exploring the Ceaseless Stacks, you and an iteration of Anesh rearranged your living room.¡± Planner¡¯s matter of fact tone drew Sarah in, and she found herself leaning with a hand under her chin as she stared at the infomorph, wondering where this was going. ¡°Part of your perfectly reasonable changes included clearing some detritus and moving the central table eight inches toward your patio door into the freed space. Because of this repositioning, the path from your room to the front door is slightly more open now.¡± ¡°I am utterly fascinated by this, but I don¡¯t¡­¡± Sarah trailed off as Planner held up a tentacle. ¡°When you leave your home, you walk closer to the kitchen counter. You know that the counter is only a problem if you lean over it and knock something off, but the table and the chair at the end are something you have hit your hand on dozens of times. So you avoid it. You don¡¯t need to anymore. It¡¯s no longer in the way. But where do you walk when you leave?¡± Sarah blinked, tilting her head up to stare at the overhead lights. ¡°I do that?¡± She asked. ¡°You do.¡± ¡°Huh! I guess I do!¡± She thought about it, thought about the unconscious processes that went into her daily routine, and if she¡¯d changed over the last week. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m gonna stop now.¡± She said. ¡°But you hadn¡¯t yet.¡± Planner told her. ¡°That is me. When others change their mind about me, I have the choice to resist. I could continue walking where I always have, or I could move the table back. Your thoughts to me are like your apartment to you. The foundation is sturdy and safe, but the contents are malleable, even if you cannot simply pick up a couch one handed and toss it into the sink.¡± ¡°Well, Alanna maybe could.¡± Sarah laughed. ¡°Yes, you think of her as-¡° ¡°Hey! So! Let¡¯s talk about your personal life!¡± Sarah pushed down a fit of embarrassed giggles to redirect to Planner. ¡°Okay, okay, you work a lot, but that¡¯s fine as long as you¡¯re not hurting yourself. But you aren¡¯t working all the time. Does your life have room for friends, or hobbies? Got anyone special to you?¡± Planner¡¯s coloration shifted slightly, lines of dark blue accenting the ghostly green of their form. ¡°All of my hosts are special to me.¡± They said. ¡°Though I admit, telling humans apart from the inside is difficult due to the fact that self-image is somewhat tautological. But you mean in a romantic context, and no. While manifested assignments hold the potential for it, I personally have no particular desire for romance or sex in my life, which disappoints many potential suitors.¡± ¡°Many?¡± Sarah felt the word escape before she could stop it. Then she realized that she was talking to a constantly shifting series of dexterous tentacles that was also polite and intelligent. ¡°No, nevermind, I live with James, I figured it out.¡± She said. ¡°Okay, so you¡¯re ace, that¡¯s neat! But friends? Hobbies?¡± Planner muttered something. Muttered. Which was the first time Sarah had ever seen the infomorph say anything without deliberate precision. ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry! If you don¡¯t wanna say, we can¡­¡± ¡°I create tye dye patterns in cloth.¡± Planner said abruptly. ¡°It is silly.¡± ¡°¡­is it?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°It feels silly.¡± Planner restated for clarity. ¡°To me. My species lives off of the organization of information. And more than that, I am meant to be responsible for protecting this place. To enjoy small chaos feels wrong, somehow.¡± Sarah stood up suddenly, and moved over to the other side of the desk, taking a moment to assess her plan of attack before wrapping her arms around Planner¡¯s rotating form and squeezing. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Planner asked. Sarah laughed. ¡°Giving you a hug you dummy.¡± She said, leaning to press herself against Planner. ¡°You¡¯re not meant to be anything. You¡¯re just meant to be Planner. So if you like making something, then that¡¯s what you¡¯re meant to do.¡± She felt Planner¡¯s nervous motions still and then stop, and she gave a last squeeze before letting go and sitting down again. ¡°Do you wanna tell us about it?¡± To their surprise, Planner found that they did. ¡°It is the mix of predictability and chaos that I find fascinating.¡± They said. ¡°I choose the colors, I stir them in known patterns with the right amount of control, I wrap the cloth. So many variables I can account for. And yet, there is no way yet for me to truly know what the end result will be. I am capable of guiding, but not perfectly controlling. And so every piece surprises me in some way. Even if it does not mean anything.¡± ¡°I think all the best hobbies don¡¯t really ¡®mean anything¡¯.¡± Sarah admitted. ¡°But they¡¯re a lot of fun anyway.¡± ¡°A contradiction.¡± Planner said idly. ¡°Yeah, well, that¡¯s being human!¡± Sarah grinned at their podcast partner for the day. ¡°And it seems like being hosted on humans makes you part human yourself, in a lot of ways.¡± Planner twisted in acceptance. ¡°It does. Though it may interest you to know that despite being part camraconda as well, I find that does not appreciably change my view of the world. Your people have many aspects in common.¡± ¡°Camraconda guests are later in the week!¡± Sarah exclaimed. ¡°Don¡¯t spoil the surprise!¡± She took a deep breath, and then leaned back. ¡°That¡¯s also gonna be all for this episode! Tune in next time for talking to Prince, a mimic who we know nothing about and who doesn¡¯t know why he¡¯s being interviewed! Planner, thank you so much for making time for us today. I hope you had a good time.¡± ¡°I believe I did, thank you.¡± Planner made a motion like a bow. ¡°Now, I must leave. There is a meeting scheduled.¡± The tentacles folded in on themselves in a roil of ghostly flesh, before compressing to nothing and vanishing like an optical illusion. ¡°We should have a video component.¡± Sarah muttered slightly. ¡°Anyway! Thanks for listening! Until next time!¡± _____ The elevator to one of the basements dinged open, and James waited for the six other people to disembark before following out into the atrium. He suppressed a cough as he passed by the sturdy trunk of the tree that was the centerpiece of a small garden down here, illuminated by a shaft of natural sunlight that came from the skylight that shouldn¡¯t have led to anything but dirt and buried pipes. It was a beautiful spring day outside, the winter cold slowly creeping back to be replaced by something more tolerable. Though after the Climb, he¡¯d take basically anything that wouldn¡¯t kill him if he wasn¡¯t wearing eight coats and chugging the potion that heated you up but also risked your internal organs to detonate like cluster munitions. The hallways were more populated than normal today, James noticed as he walked. He wasn¡¯t really focusing on anything in particular, just making his way to his destination. But he kept having to shift and mutter an apology to someone when he wandered into the way of people wheeling handcarts full of IKEA boxes or cleaning on top of the ventilation pipes or something. It felt alive, and busy, but not in an overwhelming way. Though James was aware that they were starting to run up against a practical limit before the Lair might become overwhelmed, and it mostly had to do with there being over a hundred people living in one basement that only had a single elevator. Which was less of a problem than James¡¯ faulty human instincts told him it was. Apartment structures in metropolitan areas often had to deal with more people using worse elevators. But he still had this gnawing thought that the apartments being underground and compressed in space might mess with throughput somehow. This wasn¡¯t the apartment sector though. This floor was now almost fully dedicated to Research, as well as their now more solidly established medical wing. And James was here to bother the local administrator about progress on a few things. The central area that Reed¡¯s tiny office was attached to was as chaotic as ever. A fenced pen in the middle of the floor space held a number of shellaxies, the semi-organic computer cases filled creatures that scuttled around on short cable limbs and had been domesticated far easier than anyone really expected. All the shellaxies had labels stuck ot their cases informing people of their names; James was partial to Peanut Butter Cup. They also, today, had what looked like cut up foam pool noodles taped to their edges, which was explained by the pair of younger stuff animals running around with the boxy creatures. The rest of the floor wasn¡¯t quite so cute. Two people were in a shouting match that it looked like everyone else was pointedly ignoring. Something about a lamp, but James had headphones in and wasn¡¯t really interested in getting involved at the moment. A camraconda and a pair of humans were mopping up something that looked like it had polished the floor to a literal mirror shine, which was impressive for bare concrete. It also looked like it was starting to work on the mop. And there was a skittish ratroach hiding up on top of the ventilation ducts that James was pretty sure everyone was trying to tempt down with bacon. Why they had delicious hot bacon here in a place at least a five minute walk from the nearest kitchen was concerning, but also, he would be tempted down by bacon, so the plan at least seemed solid. Taking out his headphones, James paused Sarah¡¯s podcast, walked confidently around the outer edge, and knocked on Reed¡¯s door, letting himself into the tiny office without waiting for a reply and without being sidetracked by any shenanigans. ¡°Hey. I¡¯m here for your interrogation.¡± James said. Reed was already focused on him as he walked in and shifted around the door to close it. ¡°Okay. Wait, why are you wearing a mask? Did you unleash another wizard plague?! No, worse, is there a normal plague again? I can¡¯t do lockdown again, I¡¯ll cry, please.¡± Reed braced his hands on his desk, curly haired head leaning backward with a terrified expression on his face. James tried to give his best exhausted look. ¡°I have a sore throat.¡± He said. ¡°Calm the fuck down.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Reed relaxed quickly, before clearing his own throat. ¡°With you though, that could mean¡­¡± ¡°Reed. Please.¡± James begged with tired eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve spent a long time on Mt. Doom, I¡¯m sore, I¡¯m getting sick with something stupid, and I just want to get some project updates.¡± Reed winced. ¡°Ah, sorry. Uh¡­ there¡¯s a lot of projects, but off the top of my head, you probably wanna know that the Library tablet progressed?¡± ¡°Progressed how.¡± James asked flatly. ¡°I mean, the little glowy marks around the outside are lit up farther along now. It¡¯s probably a progress bar or something. It¡¯s probably not a fuse. I hope.¡± Reed didn¡¯t actually sound that worried, so James chose to take that as a joke. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯re about thirty percent along, so it¡¯ll be something like, what, a little over a month before it¡¯s done? There¡¯s a webcam watching it, if you ever wanna check.¡± James tilted his head. ¡°Huh. That¡¯s a clever way to do it.¡± He said. ¡°Well, not clever enough. We¡¯re growing a program to actually ¡®watch¡¯ and keep people updated. There¡¯s a million distractions down here.¡± Reed glanced at a thick folder on his desk, and tapped it with a less thick finger in an anxious motion before turning back to James. ¡°On that note.¡± He said slowly. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ an open question going around down here. One that I think we should probably talk about.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°We¡¯d like to make another AI.¡± Reed looked like he didn¡¯t like how that had come out. ¡°Which is to say, some parts of Research want to try to more effectively recreate what Momo managed to do by growing programs that could take in red totem information. And then make a program that can think, and has a personality, and can be expanded on. And I think this is¡­ uh¡­ kind of worrying? But I don¡¯t know why I should be saying no.¡± James¡¯ mouth twisted into a sad grimace under his facemask. ¡°Okay.¡± He said calmly. ¡°I don¡¯t think you should.¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, I know that we-¡° ¡°No, sorry. My brain is kinda soggy today, I wasn¡¯t clear.¡± James interrupted. ¡°I don¡¯t think you should say no.¡± Reed stared at him from over the chipped wood of the cheap desk he¡¯d claimed as the seat of his domain. Settling an elbow on his laptop with just enough force to not shatter the device, he raised his eyebrows. ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Seriously.¡± James nodded, leaning against the door and wishing there was a second chair in here. ¡°The problem before wasn¡¯t that we made life; we do that all the time. The problem was that we put a lot of responsibility on one person who didn¡¯t know what she was doing and no one had a clue how to help. Now we know a little better, and we do better.¡± He shrugged. ¡°We should have a forum about it though. Make sure that we¡¯ve got a good goal in mind, and not just that you¡¯re making an AI for no reason.¡± James blinked as he thought about that. ¡°Actually making life for no reason seems like what we do now, usually. ¡®We¡¯ being humans, I guess. Sorry, I¡¯m kinda rambling here. AI seems fine but talk to everyone you can first. That¡¯s my stance.¡± Reed gave James a worried look, the younger man standing up and offering James his chair. ¡°Do you need to sit down or something?¡± He asked cautiously. ¡°Oh god yes.¡± The two of them rotated around the desk on opposite sides, and James collapsed into the seat with a feeling of relief that was far stronger than he was expecting. It was like half his problems just faded away, and he felt like if he closed his eyes, he could fall asleep right there. ¡°Okay. Thank you.¡± James took a few long breaths. ¡°So. Climb magic.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been less than a day.¡± Reed told him. ¡°Chill. Pun intended.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a terrible pun.¡± ¡°Then pun unintended.¡± Reed was cheerfully undaunted as he started pacing on the other side of his own desk. ¡°Other Climb stuff: I¡¯ve got people, myself included, trying to figure out why some of the items from the Climb ¡®feel¡¯ magical. The iLipedes with the scanning apps give us weird information on them, so we know something is going on, but there¡¯s no clear answer yet. And now we have more samples, so that¡¯s good. Not sure what to do with the samples of the wood venom. Uh¡­ the gold is gold. Chemically, I mean. I don¡¯t know if you knew that.¡± ¡°How would I know that.¡± He just got a shrug in reply. ¡°So, Ceaseless Stacks. No magic books yet, sorry. Working on testing duplicates for the statuettes, though they¡¯re chonky, so we can¡¯t burn through them too fast. One of them seems to create a kind of snowball effect for how good someone is at something, so that¡¯s cool. Also we¡¯ve got duplicates tested for most of the orbs, and the really cool ones are getting more. There¡¯s a species orb for foxes, and a tool orb for shovels, but I¡¯m not gonna lie, these things seem sorta¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Underwhelming compared to throwing fireballs around?¡± James asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone can do that. So I guess they¡¯re not underwhelming.¡± Reed admitted with a squeaky laugh. ¡°The computers from there are what we¡¯re really interested in. The casual way they don¡¯t need to be connected has a ton of value, even before you get into some of the programs on them. Some of them have dozens of apps that are all password locked, but I don¡¯t think anyone figured them out in the Library, right?¡± He got a shake of James¡¯ head in reply. ¡°So we¡¯re looking into that. But until then, the map app is nuts, and so is the book recommender.¡± Reed took a deep breath. ¡°Also we¡¯re trying to absorb other colors of Stacks orb. No progress yet.¡± ¡°I cannot wait to see if we can make totems out of these things.¡± James said. ¡°Even if it¡¯s just the same as the Office, having a second source is¡­ whoof.¡± Reed ignored him and kept going, momentum built up as he rattled off information on everything that the Order was working on that Research was involved with; which was a lot, actually. Research was a key part of the Order of Endless Rooms, as it was basically just an umbrella term for every member that liked experimenting with and building things. ¡°We have a few different ideas for programs growing that can help people make .skill files. Also our computer team - thanks for the new hires by the way - are working on firmware that works on the human brain, so we can finally have skulljack security.¡± ¡°What new hires?¡± James latched onto the worrying part of that sentence. ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t hire them. But you said yes. Or Karen did? Sometimes I get you two mixed up. Anyway.¡± James felt like he was far too tired for this. But at least the sensation like his head was swimming in mud made it easy to not be insulted by Reed getting him mixed up with the Order¡¯s designated mature adult. ¡°Sure. Glad they¡¯re working out so far.¡± ¡°Yeah. Okay, what else¡­ you¡¯re up to date on potion stuff?¡± Potion stuff was the one thing James felt like he didn¡¯t have to ask about directly. There was extensive documentation about it, and multiple threads on the Order¡¯s discussion server dedicated to it. He was up to date on the mice experiments with the potions made them super chill artists and also made them run fast. He knew the current theory that it wasn¡¯t individual materials but material combinations that generated the effect, and then that was modulated by measurements and methods. He practically had the growth and use rates of the magical sap cactus memorized. James was up to date on potion stuff. He didn¡¯t feel like saying that out loud though, so he just gave Reed a thumbs up. ¡°Uh¡­ okay, what about the bullets?¡± Reed asked. James knew nothing about the bullets, so he let Reed carry on. ¡°So, it turns out you can sorta use them if you¡¯re hosting an infomorph, but it still sucks, and¡­ you know what? You don¡¯t need to know this part. The important bit is that you can restore memories fed into them with .mems. But only your own. Or, like¡­ only your own memories. You can only feed them your own memories. There.¡± ¡°It was two thirds of the way through that when I realized you meant Harlan¡¯s memory bullets.¡± James admitted. ¡°So, you can feed it something you have a backup of, then restore from backup?¡± ¡°Yup!¡± Reed seemed pleased with that. ¡°Problem though.¡± ¡°Naturally.¡± ¡°You can only feed the bullets your own memories, and backups of your memories don¡¯t count. We haven¡¯t tried storing them in other people, just on USB sticks, so maybe there¡¯s a workaround there somewhere. Anyway, we can use those for delves or something. They self-replicate blank bullets if they kill something, but ¡®kill something¡¯ is a really abstract term. I think it¡¯s if they hit something that dies within a minute or so.¡± Reed tried to say the words without sounding uncomfortable, but it didn¡¯t really work. He had stuck around in the first place because he wanted to help the people who¡¯d saved his life, and he didn¡¯t really have anywhere else to go. But he had absolutely ended up in Research for a reason, and it was because he was squeamish as heck and wouldn¡¯t be caught in a dungeon ever again. ¡°Enough bullets. How do you feel about furniture?¡± ¡°This question feels like a trap.¡± James muttered, and was mercifully interrupted by a knock on the door. Reed turned and wedged his chubby frame around the door as he opened it, revealing a shorter blonde woman who looked surprised to see him on this side of the desk. ¡°Ah, Amy. What can I do for you?¡± The veterinarian the Order was hiring often enough now that she was closing in on being a full member got over her confusion quickly. ¡°Uh¡­ I just wanted to say that Rom wandered off while I was with Banana for her lessons today. So if you could ask people to keep an eye out¡­? Reed seemed to deflate as he sighed, closing his eyes and dipping his head. ¡°Yeah, sure thing.¡± His voice struggled to keep an upbeat note in it. ¡°Thanks for letting me know.¡± ¡°Sorry!¡± Amy said as she slid out of view and Reed shut the door again. It was, James figured, a sign of how much things had changed. That a woman telling them there was an invisible panther the size of a small car wandering around was just exasperating and not terrifying. ¡°I like this place.¡± He murmured to himself. And then louder, to Reed, ¡°Do you need to handle that, or do you wanna tell me about furniture?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. We¡¯ve been running the safest tests with the body swapping table that we could think of. Uh¡­ infomorphs are hosted on the actual physical brains, so that¡¯s interesting. But because your thoughts are swapping over, they sort of ¡®slide¡¯ to the new body. Except they can choose to stick around in the first one?¡± Reed scratched at one of his cheeks. ¡°We need better terminology. Planner¡¯s been working on a glossary but we need to actually adopt it.¡± He sighed. ¡°Anyway. Humans and camracondas can swap without issue once we learn to use each other¡¯s bodies. Inhabitors have trouble with emotional processing, but can do it; though it¡¯s not clear if you¡¯re swapping into the potion blob of an inhabitor, or the body they wear. Ratroach bodies are more painful than you think.¡± Reed pressed his eyes closed and took a deep breath through his nose. ¡°Like, a lot worse.¡± James tipped back in Reed¡¯s chair. ¡°Are you testing this?¡± ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± Reed asked. ¡°It¡¯s perfectly safe. We still don¡¯t know how to actually use the thing, I¡¯m just telling you what it can do.¡± ¡°Sure. Any other furniture facts?¡± ¡°No, we have no idea what the Underburbs stuff does. Any luck finding the dungeon, by the way?¡± James sighed. ¡°No, and our scout teams weren¡¯t finding anything, so I pulled them back. Alice and Charlie are heading back tomorrow to keep poking around, but we¡¯ve got a whole city to search and it¡¯s not like dungeons are that obvious.¡± Reed sighed and shifted around to try to lean on the door like James had been, before frowning and standing back up like he was offended by the position. ¡°Okay. Well, can you ask some of the delvers to spend some more time down here? A lot of the stuff benefits from a kind of intuition that you guys develop faster than us.¡± ¡°Wait, you get it too?¡± James asked curiously. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Reed nodded. ¡°I¡¯m best with Attic stuff, actually. But I can spot it out of a pile now, and that¡¯s kinda cool. I can also sort of tell if people are bonded.¡± He eagerly shared his own progress. ¡°No shit!¡± James was impressed. ¡°But yeah, do delvers not tend to overlap down here? I know Momo¡¯s one. And Mars and Chevoy-¡° Reed made a rude noise and spoke a little too loudly for James¡¯ growing headache. ¡°Mars and Chevoy do their own weird thing. I¡¯m talking about getting people to just drop by and double check ideas, and maybe save us time on a few things. We¡¯re doing a lot these days looking for inter-dungeon synergies, and holy shit is it easy for stuff to get lost down here in the mess.¡± Reed swore like the kind of guy who had spent his whole life not swearing and was only just picking it up. Before he could feel bad about introducing bad habits to his innocent Research director, James nodded in agreement. ¡°Yeah, like the crown.¡± ¡°Oh, the crown!¡± Reed perked up. ¡°It leveled up!¡± That news got a spike of excitement from James that was enough to override the building headache and dizziness with a smile. ¡°No new ability, and it¡¯ll be something like two years before it levels again thanks to the way Squo made their stupid blood sacrifice items. But it¡¯s faster at doing whatever it does now. Which somehow includes extending potion effects, helping absorb blue and yellow orbs, and drawing circles freehand.¡± ¡°I love the crown so much.¡± James laughed. Reed glowered at him. ¡°The crown is the stupidest magic item we have. It¡¯s the only thing that has meta effects like that. You know we can¡¯t make blue items that interact with breath or velocity?¡± James folded his arms. ¡°I did not know that. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± He reminded Reed. ¡°Right!¡± Reed thought for a minute. ¡°I dunno what else we¡¯ve got going on that you need to be kept up to date on. Oh, we have a collective skill file available now that¡¯s a test of that kind of thing. It¡¯s three people¡¯s understanding of the principles of the internet. Kinda simple, but it¡¯s a cool proof of concept that we can make merged files, and it sort of smooths out the emotional influence. Sort of.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good to know.¡± James said, realizing they were about done and standing up with a wobble. ¡°I might grab a copy of that, I have the Sewer lesson in computer science, and I could really go for a level in energy right now.¡± He excused himself from Reed¡¯s office, almost getting bowled over by a scampering duo as a young human and ratroach pair charged past. He wondered briefly if they were on their way to cause a problem, or running from a problem already caused. Either way, James felt like he¡¯d gotten something done today, which was good, because he planned to do very little else for the rest of it. Except catch up on Sarah¡¯s podcast. Week long dungeon delves were missing him important gossip about the people under his banner. _____ ¡°¡­back continuing our series on the lives and times of our inhuman friends!¡± Sarah paused in her introduction. ¡°Also let¡¯s edit that a little bit, because I feel like I¡¯ve made a big honkin¡¯ error with ¡®inhuman¡¯ and now I feel bad!¡± Across from her little recording desk, Watcher-Under-Stone tilted her grey cabled head in a gesture that the camraconda meant as empathic, but still confused. ¡°My people¡­ oh. Hello. I am Watcher-Under-Stone, I am a female presenting camraconda. Thank you for inviting me to speak, Sarah.¡± Sarah nodded vigorously, the knit hat shaped like a penguin she was wearing today flapping equally wildly with the motion. ¡°Right! Today¡¯s interview subject!¡± Her voice was like warm sunshine, in contrast to the cold that the basement¡¯s air conditioning was aggressively producing today. ¡°Good introduction! Now what were you saying about your people?¡± ¡°Yes. Language is interesting for us. We knew how to understand it, but many parts needed to be learned. Deeper vocabulary, aspects of tone and timbre.¡± The camraconda stretched upward, adjusting in her basket seat as she inched closer to the microphone. ¡°Even with language yellows, experience, and the ability to ask all of you with our new voices, many camracondas still keep a dictionary file on drive for reference.¡± The words made Sarah realize something. ¡°Do you ever-¡° ¡°Apologies, let me close this thought.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone interjected. ¡°You say that ¡®inhuman¡¯ feels strange to you. It feels strange to me as well. My implanted thoughts tell me it is you flagging me as an enemy. Simple. My reference material tells me it is a simple indicator; whether something is, or is not, human. But living here tells me that you feel guilty, because your instinctive word is one that feels as though it places a higher value on human life than anything else. And isn¡¯t that something beautiful? That words can feel at all?¡± The camraconda¡¯s even-lensed stare at Sarah was quite earnest, and so, not feeling like she was being baited into a conversational trap, Sarah smiled and nodded. ¡°It is. Language is cool. But it also does feel that way, you¡¯re right, and I kinda don¡¯t want to imply that you¡¯re lesser in any way?¡± ¡°That you even bothered to question it is a sign that you are a good human.¡± The camraconda said, hissing lightly with irritation under her digital words. ¡°We aren¡¯t stupid, my people. We¡¯ve seen the world, and the people in it, and the decision to cluster with your Order is not a mistake.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a lot of good people too.¡± Sarah defended her world, though perhaps a little less vehemently as she would someone she personally knew. Watcher-Under-Stone nodded in acceptance. ¡°Of course there are. And if everyone was a Sarah or a James or a Cathy then things would be different, wouldn¡¯t they? But you do not need to pretend, and I do not blame you for others.¡± She paused slightly. ¡°You had a question earlier, as we were interrupting each other.¡± Eager to drop the darker talk of the failings of the human race, Sarah latched onto the conversation. ¡°Oh! I was going to say that I¡¯m curious what it¡¯s like to go from living in a nonverbal community, to most camracondas having voices now. If you had any thoughts on that?¡± ¡°The change happened so fast.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone sounded almost wistful about it, like she was remembering events from a distant childhood and not just within the last few years. ¡°Really getting used to things took time, of course. But the stolen Officium modifications make it so¡­ so easy.¡± She twisted her body, thinner and more nimble than most camracondas, and stared at the floor, even though her voice didn¡¯t waver. Camraconda voices never really wavered. ¡°Of course we have our own communications. We made art, we played when we found the energy, the sounds we can make on our own¡­¡± Watcher-Under-Stone demonstrated a series of different textures of hiss, and then a noise like a sudden bursting shriek that caught Sarah off guard and made her jump. ¡°¡­we could always talk, but now we can speak. And it has greatly deepened every part of our lives.¡± Sarah¡¯s soft eyed smile as she balanced her chin on a braced arm exuded happiness as she replied. ¡°I¡¯m glad we could give you that gift.¡± She said simply. ¡°And that¡¯s a great little look into what I hope a lot of camracondas feel about it, but I want to get into the specifics of your life, if that¡¯s okay?¡± ¡°That is what the premise I was lured here under was.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone put a wry twist in their words that made them sound contentedly amused. ¡°Where shall we begin?¡± ¡°Well!¡± Sarah rubbed her hands together. ¡°How about with something easy, where I ask you about your religion?¡± Her raised eyebrows threatened to escape the confines of her face as she grinned at Watcher-Under-Stone. Watcher-Under-Stone just hissed out a sigh as she replied. ¡°This is another one of those language snarls where I know what you mean, I know what the word means, and I know how the word feels, but it feels different to different people.¡± She said. ¡°We can edit it out and I can pick a less problematic word?¡± Sarah offered honestly. ¡°The problem is anthropocentric, I assure you.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone told her smugly. ¡°But also ¡®religion¡¯ is the wrong word. At least, as things are now.¡± She paused to see if Sarah had a specific question, but the human woman just let her talk. ¡°For our years of physical captivity, my people had one singular person to thank for our mental freedom. What started out as a simple act of respect morphed over time into¡­¡± she made a rattling hum in her throat. ¡°¡­not ritual, precisely. Not faith. But what is clearly a spiritual emotion. We did not simply know that she had changed things, we saw her as a figure of salvation.¡± Sarah¡¯s soft voice, almost a whisper, brought up a point that Watcher-Under-Stone was slowly coiling around. ¡°But she was.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Yes. And for that, we killed her.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone bluntly replied. ¡°A difficult thing to contend with. Our spiritual core was centered on trying to be worthy of the person we had murdered, even if we were puppets when it happened. And then, suddenly, something changed.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Sarah didn¡¯t really know what to say. ¡°Yes, you are quite the ¡®ah¡¯ moment.¡± The camraconda woman showed off long brass fangs in a serpent grin. ¡°And yes, there are some sweeping cultural changes to who we are, but that is not what you¡¯re asking. You¡¯re asking about me, and that I can answer much clearer. My role in the spiritual lives of my people, and my own belief, has largely ended.¡± Sarah blinked. ¡°I hope it wasn¡¯t because you felt pressured?¡± She prompted. ¡°I know that we¡¯ve got a weird relationship with religion around here, and James makes jokes about killing god all the time, but I don¡¯t think anyone would want you to abandon anything about yourself just on our account.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone laughed, a set of hissing half-barks as she put words together over top of the sound. ¡°No no! You have it almost backward. Everyone has gone out of their way to make things easier for us. A place to worship, a place for our rituals, even finding and introducing the child of our savior to us. You have been faultlessly accommodating. But now, things change. There are many more of my species that aren¡¯t my nest. The woman we saw as shaping us has been buried according to her own customs. My task of preserving her in the moment after her death is unneeded, and the job of keeping the knowledge of our history alive has been made irrelevant by the existence of archival and simple conversation. No one will ever forget her, and no one will forget where we came from or how this partnership began. But it is really actually okay if people forget me.¡± With a long breath, pressing her fingertips together in front of her mouth, Sarah lowered her hands in an arrow toward her interview subject. ¡°You know that people listen to this podcast, right?¡± She asked. ¡°Yes, I quite enjoy it myself. Though I do not find the .mem files that are sometimes passed around capture quite the nuance of some parts.¡± ¡°Wow, that¡¯s the nicest thing anyone¡¯s ever said to me!¡± Sarah held a hand to her heart. ¡°So, your spirituality was¡­ I mean, what was it to you? What made you put it aside?¡± ¡°It was defensive.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone replied, rocking her head from side to side. ¡°And I do not think I will ever fully abandon it. There was something special about the events that brought us together. Maybe fate, maybe destiny, maybe karma. Maybe something you don¡¯t have a word with preassigned feelings for. Maybe it just feels special because it was special, and it happened to us, and I am in love with the unique beauty of the shape of things. But that love does not need to be focused through a woman who was a victim of a dungeon¡¯s puppets. I would let her rest. I think she has earned it.¡± Sarah nodded in understanding, running a finger across the stand of her microphone in a thoughtful motion. ¡°I hadn¡¯t really heard a lot of this before.¡± She admitted. ¡°And I talk to camracondas all the time.¡± There was a slight hissing click as Watcher-Under-Stone answered. ¡°We are not an entry in a gamebook.¡± She said. ¡°It¡¯s personal. And for me, personally, things have changed.¡± ¡°Because the situation changed?¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Exactly.¡± The camraconda slid her fangs out in a small grin. ¡°Our species have many physical differences that make adapting to your world a challenge, but one of the mental differences that I find fascinating to learn about is that camracondas do not experience¡­ oh, what is it called? The resistance to new information. You have a term for it.¡± Sarah¡¯s assistant, already having googled it in her head, held up a whiteboard with the answer written on it. ¡°Belief perseverance?¡± Sarah read. ¡°That sounds right¡­ wait, she¡¯s writing more. No, no! That¡¯s¡­ we¡¯re good! Thank you!¡± Her assistant didn¡¯t stop showing them the notes about the phenomena. ¡°Yes. Well.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone hissed happily. ¡°It doesn¡¯t happen to camracondas. Or at least, it hasn¡¯t yet. And so when things change, we can change quickly, compared to some humans.¡± Knowing that there were differences in the physical minds of their species was different for Sarah than having a specific example of something that one side simply didn¡¯t experience. ¡°That¡¯s really cool.¡± She said. ¡°But also, there are a bunch of physical differences. What¡¯s your day to day life like, living in a world that isn¡¯t really built for you?¡± ¡°Sarah.¡± The camraconda made her digital voice sound plantitive. ¡°You are a beautiful human. But your question implies culpability on your part for the change. I know there are things that could be better; it is very frustrating to need help to equip my voice every day. Equally frustrating to feel like I must be gentle with the hardware. And as someone who is not comfortable with the artificial limbs, things like doorknobs are¡­ an issue.¡± ¡°I know you mean because you don¡¯t have hands but I did run into a door that I missed opening yesterday and then made up several rude words for it when I dropped my lunch.¡± Sarah offered in commiseration. Watcher-Under-Stone stared at her before slowly opening her maw in a puzzled look. ¡°I¡­ yes¡­ okay. Doors are a universal issue then.¡± She shook herself and continued. ¡°My point is that I do not see this world as not built for us. Do you think Officium Mundi prioritized our comfort? Camracondas can eat biological food, and in the Office, every piece of food is contained in challenging wrappers, heavy refrigerators, or locked drawers! You needed to do very little to make us feel more welcome than our home ever did.¡± ¡°Counterpoint!¡± Sarah challenged, forgetting this wasn¡¯t a debate of any kind. ¡°We remodel the Lair all the time and can probably just replace all the doors with better doors?¡± ¡°Somewhere, Bill looks upward. He does not know why, but he has an urge to scream. Soon, he will know.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone intoned the words like she was speaking prophecy. Sarah¡¯s cheeks flushed even as she laughed her way through the friendly banter. ¡°But it matters! You matter!¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°My question¡¯s still open though! What is your daily life like?¡± Sarah prodded. Watcher-Under-Stone hissed in thought, taking advantage of the time they had to ponder before speaking. ¡°Unexciting, maybe? Sometimes I help with the newly freed camraconda¡­ children? Is it odd to think of them as children when we are barely five years older than them? I do not know. Mostly I spend my time reading. There is a partially restored library in Townton, and now that there are regular teleports there, I spend time looking at the books that shaped your species. I often think about going to the library near here, which would be easier, but also so much harder.¡± She stared sadly at the surface of the desk. ¡°I try to go to the movie night, to learn the thousands of years of context I am missing. Sometimes I have dinner with a friend. But my daily life is not especially unique.¡± Sarah thought that sounded kind of lonely, but she didn¡¯t want to say that on the recording. She did want to talk to Watcher-Under-Stone afterward, just to make sure the camraconda was doing okay. From the way she talked, it sounded like the recent change in her assumed role had left a hole in her life, and Sarah knew perfectly well how much that could hurt if you didn¡¯t work to patch it up. She didn¡¯t say that though. Instead, she offered a casual suggestion. ¡°So far, everyone in the area has been pretty relaxed about nonhumans wandering in. But you could maybe check out the library with someone else? You don¡¯t have to do everything alone.¡± ¡°I would feel bad about potentially damaging the books, though. Not having limbs, I am¡­ somewhat rough on the texts I read.¡± Watcher-Under-Stone admitted. ¡°Maybe a personal question, but have you considered any large body changes with the shaper substance?¡± Sarah asked, curious. Watcher-Under-Stone made a bobbing motion that sort of equated to a shrug. ¡°The idea is interesting. Not having hands is often very frustrating. There is an ongoing conversation among the more philosophical of our Order about whether or not those like me should be expected to change ourselves to fit the world, instead of the other way around. But myself, I think it would be nice to pick things up without tasting them.¡± ¡°But not with robotic arms.¡± Sarah prompted. ¡°Exactly. They don¡¯t feel like anything, they have all the same problems the voice hardware does, and¡­ not everyone is as adept at using the skulljacks as the best of us. It took me much longer to find my voice. It would take me longer to learn to use a single set of arms than to learn how to change myself.¡± Sarah nodded, tapping her chin. ¡°So, what¡¯s stopping you?¡± ¡°Nothing, especially.¡± The camraconda admitted with a shyness that she hadn¡¯t shown until now. ¡°Guilt, maybe? I can¡¯t identify the feeling, only that it gnaws at my stomach worse than any of the spicy food Nate makes.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Sarah sat upright with a beaming grin. ¡°See, this is true interspecies connection; being murdered by whatever hot sauce Nate puts on his chicken wings!¡± ¡°Is that the line for a mutual world?¡± Watcher-Under-Stone asked. ¡°Could we quell Earth¡¯s conflicts by airdropping his chili into contested regions?¡± Sarah¡¯s smile faltered, and she sighed. ¡°Probably not.¡± She admitted sadly. ¡°Probably not.¡± The camraconda echoed. ¡°The world is so large, everything outside is so complex and interlinked and old. There is a joke about the country we are inside, that they think a hundred years is a long time. Isn¡¯t it? A hundred years is fifty generations of my people, at least as the dungeon uses us. And the joke is that a hundred years is a blink in Earth¡¯s records. I am supposed to be answering questions here, but I want to ask; how does it not overwhelm you?¡± Sarah laughed, putting a performative nervousness into the sound. ¡°Welllllll.¡± She drew out the word. ¡°Mostly I don¡¯t think about it! I focus on the people around me, and what I want to do today, and tomorrow. I¡¯m a live-in-the-moment girl.¡± ¡°Somehow I already knew this was true of you.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty transparent.¡± Sarah admitted openly. ¡°So! Before we wrap this up, is there anything you want to share? Any specific stuff that¡¯s been on your mind?¡± Watcher-Under-Stone thought for a second, then hissed a short laugh. ¡°We have been talking about the challenges of existing with no hands.¡± She said. ¡°But Townton now holds so many damaged people who need our help. And they have hands, but that didn¡¯t make them safer. Didn¡¯t help them at all. More than hands, what they need is to know who they are. And whenever I am there, and I see them, all I can feel is the chain of connections to the people who have let me know myself.¡± She paused to raise her body up, pulling in a deep breath for a camraconda. ¡°Not only human. But something uniquely us. Maybe the belief in us is naive, or overly spiritual in a way I do not understand the nature of yet. But I find it beautiful, and I want to be part of it. Even if only in a small way.¡± Sarah smiled, feeling pressure behind her eyes as hot tears threatened to form. ¡°I think that belief is perfect.¡± She said softly. And then, steadying her own breathing and composing herself, she moved on to practical matters. ¡°That¡¯s going to be the end of this episode.¡± She said for the recording. ¡°Thank you so much to Watcher-Under-Stone for your time today,¡± ¡°Of course. A pleasure.¡± ¡°And tune in next time where we talk to Bea about what it¡¯s like to grow up somewhat literally in the shadow of someone you¡¯ll never meet. Thanks for listening, and listen to Watcher when she says the .mem files aren¡¯t-¡° _____ James settled his head on the dining hall table, and let out an indeterminate groan. The sudden silence of what he was listening to ending was relieving in a way that meant he was really not feeling good. And while he loved listening to Sarah bounce off people, he was pretty sure he didn¡¯t process most of that episode. There was a half eaten sandwich near him, and a cup of tea he¡¯d had more luck with, but he really didn¡¯t feel great. Now that he was laying his head down and covering his eyes, the dark and quiet made him feel like he was floating in a vast ocean. Voices around him just a distant roar. Except for one, which was close, and painful, and addressing him directly. ¡°Hey boss, you alive?¡± Alex¡¯s worried words hit him like a depth charge. ¡°No.¡± James groaned into his folded arms. ¡°Shit, am I late? I have to go to the thing.¡± He peeled his face off the table to look up at the knight that had probably been sent to fetch him, and saw that Frequency-Of-Sunlight was hanging around with the short human. ¡°Wow, you look¡­ uh¡­¡± Alex looked like she was striving for diplomacy. Frequency-Of-Sunlight wasn¡¯t. ¡°You look miserable!¡± She cheerfully said, the digital voice too sharp for James. When she saw him finch at her words, and noticed his eyes watering, the camraconda leaned back and modulated her tone. ¡°Sorry!¡± She added at muted volume. ¡°She¡¯s right though. You look kinda tired?¡± Alex ventured. James didn¡¯t nod, because he felt like nodding would cause his head to detonate. But he did have an excellent idea, and he tried to lose his focus in a very specific way, letting his thoughts drift down to the inner part of his mind, where he could poke someone else to talk for him. With a ruffle of orange light, Zhu¡¯s feathers sprouted along James¡¯ back like a blooming carpet before settling into place. His singular potent eye opened facing up from James¡¯ back, and while he didn¡¯t have an eyebrow, he gave the impression of raising it as he looked at the two girls. ¡°James wants you to know he is dying, and you should leave him to his fate.¡± He said. To which James groaned an opposition. ¡°Alright, fine. He says he needs to get up and go to the thing, but I say you shouldn¡¯t let him.¡± Zhu sounded irate. Alex and Sunny exchanged a look. ¡°Yeah, sure, we can take care of it. It¡¯s just going to a meeting along with Bill, right? It¡¯s not like I can¡¯t call Karen if I need help.¡± Alex gave a small shrug. ¡°Tell James we¡¯re on it.¡± Shooting them a thumbs up with an extended talon, Zhu settled in around James like a protective blanket, the navigator taking some mental liberties by muffling the anxiety James was currently trying to feel about how Alex had said we¡¯re. ¡°They¡¯re on it.¡± Zhu said softly. ¡°Ugggh.¡± James replied. But even through the pain and brain fog, he remembered to make a personnel note. ¡°This¡¯ll be fun!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said as they left the dining hall. ¡°I mean, sure, there¡¯s no reason you can¡¯t come too.¡± Alex stretched, hands against the back of her head as they made their way to the front of the building and found Bill there waiting. ¡°Hey. James is sick, so we¡¯re gonna take his place, if you¡¯re cool with it.¡± Bill looked up from where he was fidgeting with the buttons on his suit coat, clearly uncomfortable to be wearing something that wasn¡¯t denim or flannel. ¡°You can make decisions, right?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯m an adult, I keep telling-¡° Alex cut off her friend. ¡°Sunny he means for the Order. And sorta. Zhu implied it, but also I¡¯ll just call in anything we need a final word on.¡± She tapped her skulljack. ¡°Already got a channel set up for comments from an ad hoc council.¡± Since she¡¯d sort of stepped back from getting into life or death situations, Alex hadn¡¯t really found her place in the Order, but she also hadn¡¯t stopped picking up an endless litany of new tricks from everyone around her. ¡°Are we driving?¡± ¡°Hah! Into Portland? Hell no. There¡¯s a crash on 26 right now and I¡¯m spoiled.¡± Bill presented a telepad with two pages remaining like it was an object of true power. ¡°Shall we?¡± He offered as he hoisted a three foot long box under his arm. They popped into existence again on a college campus. A few people looked their way, and Alex noted the two young men who were outright staring from different spots who had definitely been watching when they appeared. But she¡¯d learned from James that you could effectively Air Bud your way through any encounter by reminding people that there was nothing that made teleporting illegal. ¡°That one.¡± Bill pointed at a building across the open cobblestone courtyard. Sunny hissed angrily, which got a few more looks. ¡°I shoulda worn a plate.¡± She grumbled as she slithered on the rough ground. It didn¡¯t hurt exactly, but someone had spat their gum out on the stones and that was gross and she hated having to dodge stuff like that. Still, she followed in Alex¡¯s wake and the trio made their way to the multi story old brick building. Bill got weird when the girls held the doors open for him, but he was the dumbass carrying the box. Frequency figured that if he wanted to open his own doors he should have let her carry the thing, but she didn¡¯t actually know how heavy it was. Odds were good Bill was stronger than her limited mech limbs. ¡°So, where are we going anyway?¡± Alex asked as they passed by a cluster of early twenties students waiting outside a lecture hall. ¡°Elevator, down two floors, room 0213.¡± Bill answered like he was just verbalizing an internal attempt to remember it. ¡°¡­okay but what for?¡± Alex prompted. ¡°No one actually told us.¡± Bill turned his head to side eye her as they reached an elevator and discovered it was out of order. ¡°Meeting with the electric company engineers? Proof of concept for the most important invention in human history? Perpetual motion machine?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not perpetual, the magic probably stops when the caster dies.¡± Alex wasn¡¯t looking at Bill as they walked, instead her eyes flicked to walls and doors, posters, bulletin boards, anyone passing them by. When she noticed a girl with a heavy backpack crumbling under her stare, she realized she had slipped into treating this place like a dungeon. ¡°Dammit.¡± Alex whispered. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have watched all the footage from the Climb.¡± ¡°So, we¡¯re here to tell people magic is real?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked. ¡°Neat. Is that why you¡¯re dressed up?¡± ¡°Yeah, I figured I¡¯d present all professional like.¡± Bill didn¡¯t exactly say that the two girls weren¡¯t quite up to standard. Alex heard the implied note anyway. ¡°No worries!¡± She said, and made her shirt turn into a sharply cut business jacket that matched her long skirt in a way that wouldn¡¯t draw attention. ¡°¡­how¡¯d you do that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a shirt I found in the Office, it¡¯s pretty much all I wear anymore.¡± Alex admitted. ¡°Check this out.¡± She formed it back into a tee shirt and played around with the different designs on it, going from a cartoon camraconda to a stylized dragon to a well armed goose, before warping it back to her business form. ¡°It doesn¡¯t work as armor though, and I¡¯m kinda always at risk that one small slip will vaporize it cause it¡¯s an Office item, and then I¡¯ll sorrrrta be topless in the middle of whatever I was doing. But hey. Risk reward?¡± ¡°Is that really what that means?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked. ¡°Also I¡¯m always topless! That¡¯s my snake privilege.¡± Before that conversation could continue, they found a flight of stairs, skipped the elevator, and passed down through a recently painted white stairwell. Frequency-Of-Sunlight had a mild issue with the oddly shaped stairs, but she worked it out by just making loud bursts of hissing every time she hit a step and pretending it was fine. At the bottom, they took a moment to figure out what room was what direction, followed some signs, and ended up at a glass walled room that looked set up for working with either electronics or chemicals. ¡°What is this place?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked. ¡°It¡¯s like if Research had more money.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ it¡¯s one of the college¡¯s lab spaces. It¡¯s like if Research had more money.¡± Bill answered. The man was clearly nervous about this, standing outside the door tapping his foot, a sheen of sweat on his face that didn¡¯t come from the walk down here. ¡°Welp.¡± He said as the people who were inside spotted them and a clean escape became unlikely. ¡°Get the door for me?¡± Alex did so, holding in a chuckle, and followed Bill into the room, announcing their presence with what she hoped was a normal sounding ¡°Hello!¡± Two men greeted them, and each of the trio found it funny for different reasons that one of them was wearing an unbuttoned dress shirt over a tee shirt that would have been right at home in Alex¡¯s lineup of shapeshifting garment options. ¡°Afternoon!¡± Said the other one, who was wearing a polo shirt and slacks and looked like he had an adult job with a salary and health insurance and everything. ¡°Bill, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± Bill extended a hand, setting his long box on a table. ¡°And this is Alex, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight.¡± The man turned to shake Alex¡¯s hand, then faltered at the camraconda. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight hissed like a sigh. ¡°Go ahead, say the thing.¡± ¡°I mean, I was gonna ask how to shake your hand?¡± ¡°¡­I wasn¡¯t expecting that.¡± The camraconda girl unfolded a metal limb from her backpack and offered it up. ¡°Lightly please, the motors in this aren¡¯t super durable.¡± The man did so, doing his best to not stare at Sunny. ¡°Sure, sure. So, I¡¯m Jim Maine, this is Jim Benson. You can call me Jim and him Benson.¡± ¡°We were supposed to fight for the name, but it seems easier to just wait for one of us to quit or die.¡± Benson offered in a nasally voice a little too fast, like he was nervous about talking to new people. Alex and Sunny nodded in unison. ¡°Been there.¡± They said together. The dual Jims didn¡¯t know how to take that, so instead they turned back to Bill. ¡°So, our boss sent us here to evaluate a battery prototype?¡± Jim said, moving things along. ¡°Is it in here? I¡¯d like to do a quick check then maybe go get lunch.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ not a battery, exactly.¡± Bill said. ¡°This is just a heat exchange engine in a sealed container with an outlet plug. But it is what we wanted to show you.¡± Bill tugged at his collar, then decided it was informal enough to pull his coat off, revealing arms that were practically describable as furred as he started setting things up. Benson watched as Bill plugged a power strip into the box, then a portable battery with no charge. ¡°Hey man, I¡¯m sure this is cool, and I don¡¯t mind costing the company a few thousand dollars to waste our day here, but¡­¡± ¡°Did no one tell you what this was for?¡± Alex asked. ¡°I mean, I only learned a few minutes ago, but I¡¯m a replacement for a guy who¡¯s sick.¡± ¡°We were told to be unbiased.¡± Jim sounded like he was reserving judgment. ¡°So what is this?¡± Bill cleared his throat, then saw Alex watching him and tilted his eyes up to look at the ceiling. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m not supposed to call it perpetual motion.¡± He started with. ¡°Oh my god.¡± Benson¡¯s tone was loudly derisive. ¡°Our organization has recently come into possession of the ability to¡­ uh¡­ break physics a little bit.¡± Bill said, awkwardly reciting a half-prepared sales pitch. ¡°Exchanging heat between two points without affecting the intervening space. This is just to prove that it works, because we want to convince your bosses to help us build a massive amount of infrastructure.¡± He tapped the box. ¡°No.¡± Benson said. Frequency-Of-Sunlight slowly looped her camera head around to look at him. ¡°Was the giant biomechanical snake not enough?¡± She asked. ¡°I can do party tricks if you want! Alex, throw something!¡± Alex pulled a wooden dowel she¡¯d been carrying around for some reason out of her pocket and tossed it at Benson, and Sunny froze it in midair. ¡°See! Look! Physics can suck it!¡± While his coworker¡¯s face went through the five stages of grief and he tried to figure out what was happening to the immovable object, Jim turned his attention back to Bill. ¡°So it¡¯s magic.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying really hard not to say that.¡± ¡°But it is magic?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ an alternate form of¡­¡± ¡°Magic.¡± Alex cut in. ¡°It¡¯s magic. It has a mana pool and everything.¡± She sounded too pleased to be delivering the news. Bill folded his arms and looked away. ¡°It¡¯s magic.¡± He admitted. ¡°But it also works, and that should be enough.¡± The other man looked between Bill, and then Sunny and the stick she was holding in midair as his colleague tried to pull it out of position. Then he nodded. ¡°Right.¡± Bill said. ¡°The magic lets us connect two points for heat transfer. So this is our quick and functional prototype; we put the points on either end of a heat exchange motor, let it build up, and it starts generating power. And never stops.¡± ¡°Except for maintenance. Or if there¡¯s an imperfect seal, which there will be if you have an outlet.¡± Jim pointed out, circling the box. ¡°Can I open this?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to let you after I show it off.¡± Bill said. The man nodded. ¡°Sure. Makes sense. Want to fire it up?¡± Bill took a deep breath, and then triggered the spell he¡¯d put a lot of effort into getting from the Mountain. He wasn¡¯t a hiker. He loved camping, but he wanted to get there on an RV and then spend his day fishing. But he¡¯d done it, so he could do this. The temperature in the room dropped slightly, and Bill almost shivered as he connected two points at a specific distance that he¡¯d gotten very used to. Then he sucked in more air, refilling his Breath a little bit before he did it again, the cold starting to make his fingers numb as he overlapped one of the points with the second cast. After that it was simple to move the engine into position. And while he took a few tries to fumble his lighter out, flick a flame to life, and hold it to the ¡®cold¡¯ end of the second cast, he did get it. The heat from the fire sucked away and into the box. ¡°How long are we supposed to¡­¡± Benson looked up from his ongoing attempts to start to ask, just as the motor began to turn. Bill kept the lighter in place as he started to warm up again. ¡°Each set of points lasts¡­ well, until the creator dismisses them.¡± ¡°Or dies.¡± Alex added. ¡°Or maybe dies.¡± Bill corrected. ¡°You have to be able to see the points, which is why I moved the box into place.¡± The lights on the portable battery blinked on as it started charging, and Bill let his lighter die out. ¡°You can touch them safely, they won¡¯t kill you or anything. Just cool you down.¡± He let Jim wave his hand through the empty spot over the table, the man¡¯s eyebrows spiking up as he felt the cold point. ¡°The problem is scale. One of these can power a few buildings, but making them isn¡¯t as simple as shipping them to people. We need a big version, part of a central power grid.¡± Jim and Benson were watching the sealed box like hawks now, and Sunny let the tossed stick go as Alex moved into position to catch her own throw. ¡°The points must move relative to the planet.¡± Benson said. ¡°But tectonic activity could screw with that.¡± ¡°You¡¯d need to account for maintenance.¡± Jim said. ¡°A way to replace parts, which would vent heat even with proper airlocking. But if you can make insertion points like this¡­¡± he waved his hand. ¡°Range between points?¡± ¡°Line of sight.¡± Bill said, and the engineers both frowned. ¡°One big tunnel?¡± Benson said. ¡°Maximize stored heat, build exchangers into the walls and retract individual units to repair?¡± ¡°Inefficient. We¡¯ll need to find a way to extend that range.¡± Jim replied like they¡¯d had this conversation before. He frowned as he looked at the power strip, then indicated that Benson should hold the box in place as he unplugged it, went to a briefcase sitting on a chair, and pulled out his own phone charger. It didn¡¯t take him long to verify that the engine was actually working to produce power. ¡°We¡¯re going to need to open this up.¡± He said. Bill nodded. ¡°Release latches are at the top.¡± He got one side while Jim got the other, and they pulled the top off the box. A wave of heat poured out as they did so, like standing in front of an oven, but it quickly faded along with the sound of the turning motor. ¡°Check whatever you need to.¡± He said. ¡°You can take the box too, but I can¡¯t send the heat tunnel with you.¡± The two Jims poked and prodded at the engine, one of them pulling on gloves to turn parts of the mechanism, one of them using a pen to examine it like he was somehow divining the true meaning of each part. Alex and Sunny started a conversation on the side of the room about how their weeks had been going while Bill watched and sweated. Eventually they looked up almost in unison. ¡°Magic is real.¡¯ Benson declared. ¡°Wow really?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked. Jim turned to look at the girls, the camraconda specifically. ¡°¡­huh.¡± He said, like he was just realizing something. ¡°Alright. Can anyone learn how to do this?¡± ¡°Technically.¡± Alex cut in. ¡°We¡¯re not interested in sharing it too much, until we can start to build a society that could handle it. But we can give you access to a certain number of casts a day in terms of sharing time.¡± There was a keen glint in the man¡¯s eye, like he wasn¡¯t just here to review the technology. ¡°Financially, what would you want from this endeavor? How much control do you want? You can¡¯t set yourself up as a private power company, not in this state. And distribution wouldn¡¯t be feasible on your own either.¡± Bill started to say something, but Alex was already answering. ¡°Your company can have the hardware, and a contract guarantee that we¡¯ll update any abnormal physics it relies on.¡± She said. ¡°In exchange, you eliminate coal and natural gas from your operation, you work with us every time you need to increase power output, and you back us when we spread this technology to other states and nations.¡± Jim leaned over the table. ¡°Not a chance. You¡¯d have too much control. You make the method available with a patent, we¡¯ll pay for the use, you¡¯ll make a killing and we¡¯ll have an assurance that we can keep it working.¡± Alex slammed her own elbow on the table as she leaned on it herself. ¡°Fine, no promise on keeping coal plants open, because you¡¯ll shut them all down as soon as our way is cheaper for you anyway. We don¡¯t need your money, we¡¯re fucking rich. But we¡¯ll compromise and assign two knights as on call contractors per plant after setup. You¡¯ll always have someone on hand.¡± ¡°Someone under your supervision, I suppose? No way. We want that for our own technicians and staff.¡± Jim countered. ¡°You literally cannot offer them anything except money for their loyalty, but once someone learns the technique they can¡¯t lose it, and it makes them a target. No compromises on personal safety for casters.¡± Alex stated. ¡°As your company backs our expansion we¡¯ll establish a civilian oversight group to keep the lights on.¡± Jim gave a wolfish grin. ¡°Acceptable. Barely. You fund them though.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll fund them through the profits of power sold in open markets.¡± Alex said. ¡°You only have to worry about keeping things running where you already do. And you¡¯ll do it with lower prices.¡± ¡°Oh we will?¡± ¡°Yeah, you will. You¡¯ll be able to serve every customer you have with almost no material cost once construction is finished. You pin your prices to your overhead, or we walk.¡± Jim laughed darkly. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you can do free wireless transmission of electricity while you¡¯re at it?¡± ¡°Not at scale.¡± Bill said without thinking about it, and both engineers turned to stare at him. ¡°I mean, uh¡­ no.¡± It was fascinating to Alex to see the man who typically communicated in graduate level swearing while he was working on wiring in the walls of the Lair turn beet red. ¡°Hey Alex¡­?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said with a tentative hum. Benson leaned close to the camraconda. ¡°Did she say ¡®knights¡¯?¡± He asked. ¡°We have weird names.¡± Was the reply. ¡°Alex, you super can¡¯t make that deal.¡± Sunny told her friend. ¡°Huh?¡± Alex looked up. ¡°Oh. Sorry, you¡¯re right, I figured you weren¡¯t just an engineer.¡± She told Jim, missing the point of Frequency¡¯s comment. Jim smiled and crossed his arms. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not exactly.¡± He said. ¡°But what does your friend mean?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Alex made the realization, and tilted her head back as she closed her eyes. ¡°Sorry, wi-fi¡¯s kinda bad down here. One sec.¡± Everyone waited while she stood there, and then she abruptly cracked her eyes open and turned back to Jim. ¡°Okay, terms are approved, with one other caveat. No stalling. We want this done as fast as you can make it safe.¡± He reached out a hand to shake. ¡°I¡¯ll have our lawyers start drafting a contract. In the meantime, we¡¯d like to start extensive testing on the effect.¡± ¡°Works for me.¡± Alex took his hand. ¡°Bill, you doing anything tonight?¡± ¡°¡­this?¡± The man looked confused. ¡°What just happened?¡± ¡°Preliminary negotiations.¡± Jim told him, clapping the taller man on the shoulder. ¡°Congratulations. You¡¯re going to upend the world.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight laughed, looping her head around as she barked out rough hisses. ¡°With this?¡± She asked. ¡°Hey, let¡¯s not dwell on that statement!¡± Alex tried to shush her friend. ¡°Bill, you go with them to wherever they do stuff. I need to go tell Karen how things went in detail. Sunny, escort Bill, if anyone tries to kidnap him or something, burn the building down.¡± ¡°Yes boss!¡± The camraconda saluted. ¡°¡­don¡¯t call me that.¡± Alex said, a sudden and grim terror gripping her heart as she realized that her friend had just addressed her with the same half-joking tone she used on James. ¡°No. No no. Don¡¯t¡­ I have to go.¡± Alex reached into her pocket and fumbled tearing a telepad page, vanishing from the basement. That got the Jim¡¯s attention. ¡°What in the hell¡­¡± ¡°She¡¯s allergic to authority.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight said with a sad shake of her head. ¡°It¡¯s a tragic condition. She can¡¯t have one, or it would get sick.¡± ¡°Have one what?¡± Jim asked her, confused. ¡°An authority.¡± The camraconda replied. Bill cleared his throat. ¡°Uh¡­ if you want, we can go get to work? I didn¡¯t actually think this would be this, but I don¡¯t have anything going on tonight and my wife¡¯s gonna be at a book club, so I¡¯m open to keep going as long as I can take a minute to call her.¡± ¡°Sounds¡­ sounds good.¡± Jim said, staring at where Alex had vanished from. ¡°She actually can make that deal, right?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, if she says it was approved, she means it.¡± Bill nodded. ¡°We move faster than paperwork. But you guys ain¡¯t us, so get your lawyers on that contract, and we¡¯ll have ours check it out before we make any big commitments. And then we can upend the world or whatever it was you said.¡± _____ ¡°Welcome back to this week¡¯s series of interviews!¡± Sarah felt like she was starting to hit her stride in making mini-arcs of her podcast. ¡°Explorations of little bits of what it¡¯s like to live as someone nonhuman but still in our little bubble of magic and wonder! Today, I have with me everyone¡¯s favorite cuddlebug, Arrush!¡± ¡°That is¡­ a lie. At best.¡± Arrush stole a phrase he heard James and Anesh say all the time. This was going to be a fun one, Sarah could feel it. Even though Arrush was having to take pauses for breaths, his lungs not back in the strongest part of their magically influenced growth cycle yet. ¡°Well you¡¯re my favorite!¡± Sarah said. ¡°I am covered in¡­ spikes.¡± Arrush countered. Sarah laughed at the comment. ¡°Now there¡¯s a big fib. You¡¯re less spiky than some of our human friends, since El broke into our strategic reserve of hair gel.¡± She set a hand on the desk between them, her eyes suddenly calm and reassuring as she looked at Arrush directly. ¡°But really, it¡¯s nice to have you on. Just checking, not for the recording or anything, are you okay with this today? We can come back.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Arrush said, one of his smaller clawed paws resting a half inch onto the desk on his side. ¡°It doesn¡¯t hurt. Just¡­ tiring. But I am ready.¡± Reaching over, Sarah placed her hand on the back of his, and Arrush¡¯s angular muzzle pulled back in a closed smile as he tried to not drip on anything. To her, it was a victory more visceral and real than any combat triumph to see Arrush not flinch away from being touched. ¡°Okay!¡± She said as she gave him a caring tap and then settled back in her seat. Though the way Sarah settled in a chair was to almost perch on the edge of it. ¡°So! Wanna introduce yourself?¡± ¡°Hello.¡± Arrush said, talking more to her than to the microphone. ¡°I am Arrush. I am¡­ a ratroach. I began as the¡­ the beautiful one¡¯s soldier. And then was rescued. I am five years old¡­ like garlic bread¡­ and am a knight of the Order of Endless Rooms.¡± Sarah nodded slowly a few times, then stopped moving, before giving a single last nod that had a different meaning to it. ¡°There¡¯s a lot there. You give better introductions than anyone else I¡¯ve had on this week!¡± She smiled as she scribbled down specific words as mental notes for later. ¡°There¡¯s one thing I wanna start with before we get in deep on your life. Ratroach?¡± ¡°Mmmh.¡± Arrush made a noise that might have meant to be a hum, but came out as more of a rapid clicking. ¡°Part rat. Part beetle. Not¡­ not actually a cockroach, not really. Not even a real rat. Just the impression of both.¡± He took a deep breath to refill himself, two of his smaller hands pressed against his side against the dull pains of his lungs stretching. ¡°What I¡¯m more asking,¡± Sarah said cautiously, ¡°is if the name is okay?¡± Arrus tilted his head, the sticky spines on his antenna bobbing sideways as he blinked unevenly. ¡°I think¡­ I think¡­¡± he inhaled deeply to steady himself, ¡°that it is what I am. It¡¯s only¡­ shameful? Shameful if I let it be. I am this.¡± He held up two of his paws, looking at the alternating patterns of chitin and coarse tan fur. ¡°When someone calls you human, it isn¡¯t mean, I think? Even though it comes from dirt?¡± ¡°I¡­ it what?¡± Sarah was caught off guard. ¡°Does it?¡± ¡°I looked it up.¡± Arrush nodded carefully, but with a clear pride at his knowledge. ¡°The hu is because of the word humus. Which is earth. But not the place, the dirt.¡± He coughed lightly, leaving a tiny glowing mark on the sleeve of his hoodie before continuing. ¡°So I am a ratroach. It doesn¡¯t have to be good or bad, it¡¯s just¡­ what I am.¡± That seemed like a pretty solid reason to stop trying to come up with new names for the species, to Sarah. ¡°Okay!¡± She said with a happy bounce. ¡°Would you accept a change? I know some people think that chimera or kobold is a better, less¡­ less ¡®enemy¡¯ term.¡± ¡°Would you?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°We could call humans¡­ hobbits.¡± Sarah had to think about that. ¡°I do like cottagecore.¡± She said aloud, which got her a perplexed and open mouthed stare from Arrush. ¡°But I get what you mean. So! A question!¡± At certain points, Sarah had to actually remember this was supposed to be an interview. ¡°Five years old?¡± Arrush nodded. ¡°I¡¯m the oldest. Even older than Keeka.¡± ¡°Is it weird to have half the people around you be multiple times your age?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°We don¡¯t usually talk about age with¡­ um¡­¡± she faltered. Coming to her rescue, Arrush plowed into the concept of conversational niceties like a truck. ¡°Dungeon life. Artificial is wrong, I don¡¯t like that. But an outsider, maybe?¡± He scraped at some of the chitin on his face with a claw, nervously and hard enough to scratch it. ¡°Have you¡­ do you know the Hobbit?¡± He asked awkwardly. ¡°Yes!¡± Sarah loved that book. ¡°It¡¯s very silly and also fantastic. Why?¡± ¡°The elves.¡± Arrush said slowly. ¡°They should be¡­ better, shouldn¡¯t they?¡± Sarah raised her eyebrows. ¡°Oh, because they¡¯re older?¡± She made the connection. ¡°Hey, wait a second!¡± She laughed. ¡°So everybody feels like some ancient creature that¡¯s practically immortal, but we keep goofing up all the time?¡± ¡°Not¡­ all the time.¡± Arrush slumped a little, and Sarah had to motion to remind him that the microphones were actually the target here. ¡°You will¡­ do things that confuse me. But that work out. Because you know, because you did them before. Sometimes it seems like magic.¡± He wiped away some dully glowing saliva that had started dripping down his cheek while he spoke. ¡°Sometimes it is magic. But I don¡¯t feel left out, just not there yet.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a weirdly mature way to describe maturity.¡± Sarah mused. ¡°Actually, I kinda want to know, if you¡¯re okay answering; does being created by a dungeon change how you see life?¡± ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t¡­ answer that?¡± Arrush half asked. ¡°Oh, my bad!¡± Sarah was quick to start abandoning it and moving on. ¡°We can-¡° ¡°No, no¡­¡± The ratroach straightened up in his seat, reminding Sarah that he was, like, seven feet tall and only looked small because he slouched all the time. ¡°I know where I am from is¡­ is very bad.¡± His claws bit into his hoodie, sliding through holes made by the same motion repeated over time. ¡°The difference in peh¡­ perception¡­ is that I know it is better here. It isn¡¯t a guess, or a maybe. I will always know that you won¡¯t hurt me. But I am not cr¡­created.¡± Sarah tried to make her wide eyed look come across as not horrified, not alienating to her guest. She hoped it worked. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡± She said quietly. Arrush ran a claw through his antenna, disentangling two of them. ¡°Some ratroaches just appear.¡± He said. ¡°Others are¡­ are grown.¡± His voice was tight, pained, and not just from having to breathe heavier or from a throat not made for talking. ¡°I was¡­ I¡­ I¡­¡± he trailed off as he found he couldn¡¯t form words. With a quick motion to her production assistant, Sarah had the recording switched off. Wordlessly, she rose and slid around to behind Arrush¡¯s seat, first setting a hand on his shoulder, then leaning in to wrap the big guy in a hug as he took heaving breaths and tried not to cry. She stayed that way until one of his antenna caught her on the cheek and the barbs stuck it to her skin. ¡°Uh oh.¡± She said with good humor. ¡°Uh¡­ hey¡­ so¡­¡± ¡°Ssssorry.¡± Arrush half hissed as he lifted one of the arms growing out of his back and gently extracted the part of him that was stuck in her flesh. ¡°Told you. I was spiky.¡± ¡°Well I don¡¯t care.¡± Sarah told him. ¡°Hey. We¡¯ll cut that part out, alright? You don¡¯t have to talk about it. Wanna take a minute?¡± Arrush did, and so he sat there while Sarah comforted him until he felt composed enough to continue. ¡°Ready.¡± He said, after wiping away the drops of corrosive fluids from various sources and adding a smoldering paper towel to the room¡¯s trash can. ¡°Okay.¡± Sarah smiled, and turned her expressive persona back on. ¡°So we¡¯ve established the Akashic Sewer is¡­ let¡¯s say honkin¡¯ bad and leave the details for the manual James keeps writing. But what¡¯s your favorite small part of being here?¡± ¡°Garlic bread.¡± Arrush said instantly. ¡°Have you tried it?¡± He looked at Sarah like he had a deep universal secret to share. ¡°It is bread. With garlic. And other things.¡± She laughed with a sparkling joy. ¡°I have! I can see how it would be a highlight. Do you have it often?¡± ¡°Not too often. That would¡­ spoil it.¡± Arrush stared at the desk with a worry in his multitude of eyes that was far older than he was. The concern that overindulging might ruin something. And that would be unthinkable for this particular situation. ¡°No.¡± ¡°So, what¡¯s your daily life like?¡± Sarah prompted. ¡°Things are always chaotic around this place, but how do you live?¡± Arrush tried to think of what was important for the answer. The hardest part of being young, which he didn¡¯t really know how to explain yet, was that he was lacking context for a lot of small things. But he felt like he could cover this at least. ¡°I live here, in the Lair. Live with with my¡­ my¡­ ah¡­¡± Sarah noticed him flushing green around his eyes as he trailed off, the patches of exposed thick skin changing color with embarrassment. ¡°This one I can reassure you on!¡± She declared. ¡°No one listening will judge you. And if they do, I¡¯ll sneak into their dreams and torment them. I have that power.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Arrush looked shocked. ¡°They¡¯ll find out.¡± Sarah said with an ominous grin. He blinked at her, then chittered out a laugh that turned into a soft wheeze before he caught himself and steadied his breathing again. ¡°My boyfriend.¡± He said. ¡°We spend time together. Listen to music. Talk. Usually at night. In the mornings¡­I help in the¡­ kitchen. Wash things.¡± Arrush was happy with the lonely tasks he took care of before anyone came into the Lair¡¯s kitchen every day. ¡°And then I¡­ practice. Train. Learn to fight. Or learn other things. Exercise.¡± The ratroach flexed his claws in a practiced pattern, focusing on a small practice routine for keeping conscious control of his body. ¡°Sometimes I join delves.¡± ¡°Yeah, you were in the Stacks recently! How was it?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Beautiful. It smells¡­ like nothing else.¡± Arrush answered with a distant look. ¡°Dangerous but honest, and it¡­ has¡­ crows.¡± He really liked the crows. They didn¡¯t like him, but there was something about their aloof and irate nature that made Arrush want to hug one of them, even if they were made mostly out of wet ink. Sarah followed up with a broader question. ¡°How do you feel about going back into dungeons?¡± She asked him. ¡°Being a delver, you don¡¯t feel pushed into it or anything? I feel like you¡¯ve probably been asked this a lot.¡± He had been, mostly by James. But Arrush just shrugged. ¡°Maybe at first. When I was¡­ trying to prove I¡­ I should¡­¡± He caught himself about to explain that he should be allowed to live, and breathed slowly as he focused on pulling to mind exactly what the Order did want of him. ¡°Maybe at first.¡± He repeated. ¡°Now I like it. It is sometimes fun. And none of them are like where I came from. The Library is¡­ I could live there. Forever. And be¡­ okay.¡± ¡°Okay?¡± Sarah pushed on the word. ¡°Not happy?¡± ¡°I would miss garlic bread.¡± Arrush laughed, chittering lightly. ¡°And my boyfriend. And pillows. And other things.¡± She nodded. ¡°The dungeons are cool but they don¡¯t really do creature comforts well, even the nice ones. Oh! You should visit Clutter Ascent! She has pillows!¡± Sarah snapped her fingers as the thought occurred to her and she took the opportunity to talk up her favorite young dungeon. ¡°You mentioned your boyfriend again - which is utterly cute by the way - and I wanna ask this; is romance complicated by you not being human?¡± ¡°We are the same.¡± Arrush told her, confused, because Sarah knew that. It was only as he answered that he realized she was asking him a question for an interview, and he¡¯d forgotten again that they weren¡¯t just having a conversation. ¡°But also James told me¡­ species does not matter. So no.¡± ¡°The way you said that.¡± Sarah shook with repressed laughter. ¡°Like James just swept in and declared romance egalitarian and then vanished with a swoosh of his cape. That was great.¡± ¡°He does not have a¡­¡± Arrush paused. ¡°We should get¡­ James¡­ a cape.¡± He decided. ¡°Also is he wrong?¡± Sarah shrugged. ¡°I think - also hey this is my interview - but I think that some people will be weird about interspecies romance. And I think those people are dumb! But James¡¯s idea of ignoring species entirely is bad too! It does matter, it just shouldn¡¯t be negative.¡± ¡°I agree.¡± Arrush fumbled the word as he accidentally switched to a different language for a moment. ¡°It would be¡­ hard to pretend dating an¡­ an assignment¡­ would be the same as Keeka.¡± ¡°Right?¡± Sarah said. ¡°And dating humans? Impossible.¡± Arrush held up a paw, cracking his muzzle in a small gasp. ¡°Wait, no¡­¡± he offered. Sarah laughed and moved to something else. ¡°So there¡¯s clearly some downsides to¡­ well, not to be rude, but being a ratroach.¡± Arrush nodded at her. ¡°But do you think there¡¯s anything special about it? We¡¯ve talked to camracondas and assignments and inhabitors on here and there¡¯s kind of an unspoken thing about their advantages, but yours might be less obvious.¡± ¡°I can do this.¡± Arrush said, turning to show off his back and slightly lifting his hoodie with the secondary limbs he had, demonstrating his ability to scratch every part of his back without having to stretch. ¡°Everyone¡­ is jealous of my power.¡± He enunciated the words carefully, like he was worried it might not be clear he was making a joke. ¡°Also, when it is dark¡­ I can go ahhhhh¡­¡± He tilted his head back, stretching his muzzle open. Even in the light of the studio, Sarah could see how his saliva let off a visible glow. ¡°You¡¯re your own nightlight!¡± She clapped excitedly. ¡°Oh that¡¯s actually really fun!¡± ¡°It has¡­ intimate uses¡­ too¡­¡± Arrush flushed luminant green as he snapped his mouth shut and turned to stare studiously at the floor. Sarah gave a comforting giggle. ¡°Nothing wrong with that! We¡¯re sex positive here! Actually, do you have any dating advice for the other ratroaches who¡¯ve been settling in here?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°I know a lot of people look to you as a role model.¡± At that, Arrush¡¯s previous embarrassed flush came back in force. An almost neon tinge to his skin, even showing around the edges of his exposed chitin, as he withered in his seat. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t.¡± He muttered. ¡°I am¡­ not a good example.¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t allowed to lie during an interview! It¡¯s against the rules!¡± Sarah told him. ¡°Oh.¡± Arrush thought about it, but didn¡¯t say anything. Sarah shifted topics slightly. ¡°You do know more about being a ratroach in this world than a lot of the people like you. And every couple weeks we see a few more rescues from the Sewer come in. Is there anything you wish you¡¯d known when you got here?¡± She picked the most passive form of that question possible, and almost felt bad for it. That Arrush had an answer for. ¡°The biggest change¡­ was making mistakes.¡± He said. ¡°You let me make mistakes. It¡¯s hard to learn. But if anyone is listening, who needs to know, that is¡­ it. Talk when you fail. Share what makes you weak. It will be okay.¡± He smiled at Sarah, who gave him a soft-eyed grin back. ¡°Not just if you¡¯re from the Akashic Sewer. Everyone. Every new human has to¡­ has to learn it too. Oh, ask Sarah for help. She likes helping.¡± ¡°Wait, hang on!¡± Sarah laughed. ¡°I mean, I do, but I¡¯m¡­ uh¡­ buuuuusy?¡± ¡°Yes. Busy helping.¡± Arrush clicked a chuckle as he nodded. She put on a comical pout. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to throw me under the bus like that!¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Arrush paused. ¡°What is a¡­ bus? Like the computer part?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a big passenger vehicle.¡± Sarah answered. ¡°Does it ever bother you when stuff like this comes up?¡± She asked in return. Arrush shook his head. ¡°Not anymore. I¡­ keep learning. I¡¯ve had a year of conversations with James, and I can¡­ can¡­ talk like a person. It is important¡­ to be aware of my¡­ own changes.¡± His chest started rising and falling rapidly as he ran out of breath and had to pant for air. ¡°I¡­ ah¡­ hahhh¡­¡± ¡°Hey, that seems like a great note to end on.¡± Sarah said, lightly slapping her palm on the desk between them. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna drain you completely! Thanks for coming on, this has been really nice when I wasn¡¯t traumatizing you and I¡¯m so sorry!¡± ¡°I will¡­ tell my therapist¡­ what you did¡­¡± Arrush wheezed out. Sarah was pretty sure that was meant as a joke, so she took it as such. ¡°Well anyway! Before my reputation is demolished, that¡¯s all for this episode. Tune in next time when we¡¯ll be talking to Rufus and Ganesh about how it feels to be tiny in a world with people the size of Arrush and Alanna! And, just a reminder, there¡¯s a new Order podcast coming out next week specifically for news on what Research is up to! So check up on that, and join me in listening to John and Davis realize they¡¯ve committed to way more work than they expect as they try to explain what the boop is going on in that basement!¡± _____ James woke up from the nap he was taking in his bed with Sarah¡¯s podcast just finishing playing from his phone¡¯s tiny speaker next to his head. When it started looping, he realized he might have set it to something weird, and then realized that it was about six hours later than he expected, he was covered in a layer of uncomfortable sweat, and he felt awful. ¡°Mrrrgh.¡± Was how he expressed this as he pressed back into the pillow. He didn¡¯t spot the spear of orange light as Zhu flickered off his back and out down his apartment¡¯s hallway, and he only barely processed Alanna coming back in. He was in the middle of a dream where someone was repeating Sarah¡¯s words with a distant muffled drawl. ¡°Mpht.¡± James added as Alanna rolled him over slightly and checked his temperature. ¡°Oh yeah, that is one fevery boy.¡± She said as she pressed her wrist to his forehead. ¡°Thanks Zhu.¡± ¡°Well, if he dies, I have to move.¡± Zhu said, shuffling his feathers awkwardly. ¡°Uh huh. I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t care at all about our boyfriend.¡± Alanna¡¯s sly tone cut sharply through James¡¯ thoughts, disrupting whatever sentence he was trying to form as she made him turn slightly and drink cool water from a straw. James felt Zhu rustle irately like a thousand pinpricks on his skin. ¡°We really aren¡¯t actually dating.¡± Zhu said. ¡°Probably. It would be awkward for everyone. Including you.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, no one does anything awkward around here, good point.¡± Alanna was keeping quiet, but there was no way she could avoid sniping back at the navigator. Then she saw James looking up at her with half lidded eyes. ¡°Hey buddy.¡± She said. ¡°You feeling alright?¡± It took him a few tries to speak. ¡°I am sick.¡± James eventually said. ¡°Fuck this. I¡¯m suppos¡¯ to be immoral.¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t¡­¡± Alanna tapped Zhu on his curled feathered arm. ¡°He means immortal.¡± She whispered. ¡°And yeah, you are buddy. We¡¯ll work on that, okay? Just get some sleep and let your purples do their thing.¡± ¡°Izzit a wizard thing?¡± James felt the words like rocks in his mouth. ¡°Uh¡­ no, you have the flu.¡± Alanna told him with a wince. ¡°Fuck the flu.¡± James grumbled as he closed his eyes, the room spinning too much for him to keep looking at it. ¡°No one likes you flu.¡± ¡°Oh good, he¡¯s delirious.¡± Zhu said cheerfully. Alanna shrugged as she adjusted the blankets around James. ¡°To be fair, he¡¯s not wrong. Fuck the flu. You know camracondas can get it, and it¡¯s way worse for them than humans. Everyone hates the flu.¡± She sighed as she stood up. ¡°Try to sleep a little more. Anesh is making some onion soup for you, and I¡¯ll go pick up some crackers. Do you need anything?¡± Alanna frowned as she reached down and moved one of James¡¯ hands. ¡°Don¡¯t pick at your arm. You don¡¯t want Deb having to restitch that.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t be sick.¡± James was burning energy to stay awake, inadvertently drawing on his Endurance and stacking up a debt that he was going to have to repay in the very near future. ¡°There¡¯za delve thing. Gotta do that.¡± Also the hole in his arm felt like it was on fire, and he really had to do something about that. ¡°You fucking absolutely do not!¡± Alanna barked out a laugh, pushing James back into the mattress with only two fingers as he struggled to rise. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine without you, and you won¡¯t be fine if you die to a dune bug because you were busy passing out in the middle of a Route fight. You¡¯re gonna lay here, eat our actual boyfriend¡¯s soup, and let me worry about the delve!¡± James looked up at her, a wellspring of emotion he didn¡¯t have the mental capacity to process threatening to overwhelm him. ¡°But the thing¡­¡± he whimpered. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with the thing.¡± Alanna promised, though she was lying and had no idea what the thing was. ¡°Okay.¡± James took that as reassurance, and let his head drop back. ¡°But¡­ be looking¡­ for paladins.¡± He muttered as his eyes drooped shut. ¡°And take Zhu.¡± Alanna looked down and met Zhu¡¯s eye as he turned it up to meet her. ¡°Uh¡­ can I even do that?¡± She asked of her already-asleep boyfriend. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re a person, I can just ask you.¡± She addressed Zhu. ¡°I¡­ did want to go on the Route delve.¡± Zhu admitted. ¡°It would be fun to explore origin again. But I don¡¯t want to be an inconvenience.¡± ¡°But you can jump to me?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be too hard, you¡¯ve probably seen my brain when James and I do the hive mind kink thing.¡± Zhu fluttered, dusty orange light taking on a redder hue. ¡°I know for a fact that it isn¡¯t a kink, and so do you. But yes, I could ride with you. I didn¡¯t want to ask though.¡± ¡°Cause you¡¯re from James, right, I get it.¡± Alanna nodded with a knowing smirk. ¡°Whatever, get in here, dumbass. We¡¯ve got about two days of prep work to do and you don¡¯t get to dip out of it if you¡¯re coming.¡± She tapped her forehead. Zhu paused only to look back at James, feeling along his friend¡¯s body to make sure nothing was too broken. Then he made a noise like a distant engine igniting, and flowed upward, becoming nothing for a brief moment before his light reformed around Alanna¡¯s shoulders, feathers sprouting off her back and chest like an avian mantle. ¡°Dang, you look way cooler on me than on him.¡± ¡°Give me time, I¡¯ll sort this form out.¡± Zhu promised, experimentally opening an eye on her shoulder. Alanna headed out to their living room, drawing attention from Anesh and Auberdeen as she walked in with Zhu draped around her. ¡°He¡¯s asleep.¡± She said, sniffing the air and enjoying the texture of the vegetables her boyfriend was cooking up. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta get back to a thing. You gonna be okay?¡± She asked. ¡°Of course.¡± Anesh said, leaning over the counter awkwardly while Alanna leveraged her height to close the gap and give him a solid kiss. A kiss she made weird by licking his nose as she pulled back. ¡°I love you.¡± He said rather abruptly after he finished sputtering. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I say that enough.¡± ¡°Kinda outta nowhere.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°Thinking about it cause James is sick?¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°And because you two are doing more delves than me. I¡¯m maybe a little left out.¡± He said it as a joke, but as soon as the words came out, he realized they were true. ¡°But I know-¡° ¡°Wanna go grab dinner tonight?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Like, there¡¯s the Midnight Pizza Zone place that just opened up, that¡¯s literally open till midnight. Wanna go grab a bite and hang out for a while after I get back?¡± She bulldozed forward. ¡°All of you, I mean. Or at least, as many of you as are available. How many of you are there?¡± ¡°Four. Two of me will be around though. I¡¯ll ask myself, but¡­ yeah.¡± Anesh smiled at her as he swept a spoon in a large circle through the pot he was working on. ¡°I¡¯d really like that.¡± ¡°Cute!¡± Alanna grinned, toothy and satisfied. ¡°And it¡¯ll be fun to catch up before I¡¯m back to reenacting Mad Max but without a doof warrior.¡± She added as she headed out their door. ¡°¡­you can tell me what the bloody hell you¡¯re talking about tonight.¡± Anesh yelled after her as he went back to making their sick boyfriend soup. He looked across at Auberdeen, the fluffy dog enjoying Ganesh crawling on her back and giving her scratches while she watched Animal Planet. ¡°Do you know what she¡¯s talking about?¡± Auberdeen just woofed at Anesh to be quiet. She was busy learning about dinosaurs, and her human roommates¡¯ shenanigans could wait until later. Chapter 261 ¡°One of the hallmarks of the liberal order is its frenzied attempts to purify and depoliticize - that is, to remove the human agent from - all facets of social and economic life. Liberalism¡¯s faith in the ¡°free market¡± for example, is of a piece with an entire weltanschuung that fails to see the inherent politics in a failed mortgage, a closed school, or a starving child.¡± -Jeremy Parker and Joshua Reeves, Killer Apps- _____ A long time ago, practically a lifetime but in actuality only about two years, there was a bit of a pandemic happening. Technically there still was, though James was unclear on whether or not the entire thing now counted as an endemic. He knew there was a distinction, but not exactly where the line was. It seemed like one of those things that was more declarative than factual. Like, someone one day would wake up and go ¡°You know what? I think that¡¯s a wrap on the global spread of a highly contagious disease. From now on, it¡¯s just something that we live with.¡± And from then on you used the different word. He took a moment to consider if his brain maybe wasn¡¯t back up to a hundred percent yet. That thought felt like something from a fever dream. But no, reality agreed with him, which was maybe worse. The main side effect of the pandemic, from the perspective of the Order of Endless Rooms, was that it pushed them to devote their resources more aggressively to attacking that problem. It hadn¡¯t really worked out; the truth then was still the truth now, that the problem was societal and systemic, and it didn¡¯t matter how many biotech yellows or immune booster purples or magic books that gave you growing stat points in health that the Order could produce. They couldn¡¯t produce eight billion of them. There wouldn¡¯t be a magical mass distribution that stopped a disease. They couldn¡¯t even really do much to help the people working on a mundane version of that, since at the time, they didn¡¯t have skill orbs for genetics, pathology, or any related field. The lack of power rankled James. Magic was supposed to change the world. Maybe if it were a thousand years ago and Earth¡¯s population was measured with a couple fewer zeros, it could have. But in that moment, it felt like it wasn¡¯t doing much for anyone that he didn¡¯t personally know. But that was something that was true. Magic did work for the Order. It did a lot for them. They maybe couldn¡¯t supply an endless cascade of easy fixes for everyone on the planet, but they did what they could, and they invested that magic back into themselves so they could keep doing what they could better. Including a convenient purple orb that they¡¯d found a couple years back, and had made a lot of copies of, that just happened to bolster a human immune system in a weird way that didn¡¯t quite line up with reality. A lot of purples were like that; they¡¯d do things that were easy to represent with numbers, but the numbers were describing something that should have come from somewhere else. But it didn¡¯t, it just¡­ came from the numbers. It was weird, everyone in Research complained about it constantly, James thought it was kinda cool, the world turned. And because of the weird numbers-based powers of those purples, James got over his flu and was feeling hale and ready to get back into it again almost exactly two days after the delve left into Route Horizon. They could have delayed for him, but the Route had been getting weird with the timing on its gateway. It was starting to get weirder in general, from what James had heard, but he¡¯d have to wait to find out. It might be because the Order itself was the primary source of delvers for it, and the Order of Endless Rooms was just pretty weird by default. For example, Arrush was going along as a driver. James found that utterly bizarre, even though it was perfectly innocent and reasonable. He just had never once seen a ratroach drive anything, much less a salvaged and restored SWAT vehicle. The point was he didn¡¯t want them to stall on his account. Also it was hard enough to get thirty people lined up for something chronologically, and he wasn¡¯t going to be the one that delayed it for half a week. But being stuck in bed, even with Anesh there fussing over him and making him soup, had left James restless. So he¡¯d made the poor choice, devoid of a dungeon delve to go on, to bike from their apartment to the Order¡¯s headquarters. By the time James got to the Lair, he was exhausted again, his legs more like pool noodles than actual limbs, and was feeling like maybe he was a little farther from recovery than he expected. If it weren¡¯t for the green orb that made travel to the Lair faster, he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d even have made it. Not like he would have died, he just would have given up and teleported. James never left home without three telepads tucked in different pockets anymore. Telepads, shield bracers, a full store of Breath and Velocity, a concealed holster for his pistol, it had all become part of his waking routine along with deodorant and lying about eating breakfast. Maybe the extra weight was what made cycling feel more tiring than it should have. James took a second to consider blaming the fifteen pounds of assorted metal he had on his person, before dismissing that. It definitely didn¡¯t help. But he never felt this gross about being tired when he was on delves or getting in firefights while he was healthy. This was a flu thing. The flu sucked. James mentally nudged the organizational program he was trying to get used to always having on through his skulljack, and added a long term goal of exterminating the flu. Entering the Lair after sticking his bike on the rack outside, there were two things going on that drew his attention. The central part of the room that usually held a pile of beanbags now had a new addition. A collection of glass tanks, about four feet to a side, each tank containing a small habitat of plants and pools, or for a few of the better secured tanks at the bottom, just filled with water and fish. James spotted a big frog in one of them, and was instantly curious what the other terrariums held. The beanbags were still around, but there was a buffer of space between them and the collection of reptiles and fish. An unmodified ratroach sat in the middle of one, a tangle of limbs wrapped up in a ball with a towel under them, eyes locked on one of the tanks as a young girl read aloud from a book about amphibians. James blinked at the sight. They weren¡¯t the only people around, but it had been a long time since he¡¯d seen Ava around the Lair, and seeing her just hanging around was reassuring. Especially since lately his track record of actually saving people had¡­ faltered. Though not seeing her might have been a product of her having an assignment living in her head with the power to keep her concealed; a power they both enjoyed making extensive use of. There was also an addition to the back counter. This place had previously been some kind of pool hall before the Order had moved in. Or at least, that¡¯s what James remembered. And they¡¯d never actually bothered to remove the staff counter, instead just working around it. And then when people started living here and needed to get their mail, just using the counter as a logistics hub. And now it had a pair of big monitors over it, cycling through lists of pickups on one, and¡­ James approached the counter, where a human and a camraconda were working on sorting stuff. ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve been out for a few days. Is that a list of orbs?¡± He asked, pointing at one of the screens. ¡°Oh! Yeah!¡± The human was a young Hispanic man James hadn¡¯t met, but remembered reading the dossier of when they were looking for potential recruits. His name was¡­ Tino? James needed to just get one of those emerald chips to grow him a program to remember names for him so he could stop stressing about it. While James didn¡¯t know what he planned on doing in the Order, he did know that as a new guy, he¡¯d be cycling through a bunch of different jobs and trying stuff out, and his clear enthusiasm for the magic of this place was casually on display. ¡°I guess the adventurers brought back too many of the Ceaseless Stacks orbs, and there¡¯s no practical way to copy all of them. And that sentence makes sense, right? Hah!¡± He laughed with a big grin on his face as he elbowed the camraconda next to him. His serpentine coworker glanced over at James and gave a small bow in a way that James had thought had stopped happening. ¡°Yes. We have extras of many things, and do not know what many of them are. Each member is allocated exchange credits based on total available supplies. You are not.¡± The new guy looked over at the camraconda with a suddenly upset look. ¡°Yo what? Why?¡± ¡°Ah, no, that¡¯s totally fair actually.¡± James spread his hands out. ¡°I kinda have enough of-¡° The camraconda cut him off. ¡°You may take what you wish.¡± ¡°Yo, what?¡± The new guy asked again. James was looking for an opening to ask his name; they really needed either name tags, or he needed that identity program, or something. An ancient conversation came to mind about how the dungeons never handed out health potions or bags of holding, and James added the RPG staple of the identify spell to the list of things they just didn¡¯t get around here. ¡°Sorry, real quick. Tino?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m asking. Sorry, I didn¡¯t know your name. We don¡¯t have¡­¡± James gestured to his breast, where a nametag would live normally. ¡°Oh! Yeah, that¡¯s me! This is Caller-Of-Midnight. Why do you get to walk off with anything you want?¡± Before James could answer, the camraconda made a long hiss. ¡°He is a paladin.¡± They said in a bassy digital voice. ¡°Like¡­ like from Warcraft?¡± Tino asked. James wheezed out an abrupt laugh that went on long enough to hurt his chest. ¡°Wow, that is not the one I was expecting!¡± He gasped out through the laughing. ¡°Hey, I haven¡¯t gotten through the whole manual yet!¡± Tino got defensive, glaring at James briefly like he wasn¡¯t sure if he was being mocked. ¡°No no, it¡¯s fine. That actually was just hilarious, and you will get why when you get to that part of the ops book.¡± James smiled reassuringly, holding up a placating hand. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m not here to loot you, though I do see on our new menu that you¡¯ve got orbs for SQL?¡± Caller-Of-Midnight didn¡¯t have a normal lens eye like many of the camracondas James knew. Instead, they had one of those reflective domes that covered modern security cameras in big box convenience stores across the country. Which meant that it was hard to tell if they were making any kind of motion with what was he supposed an ¡®internal organ¡¯, and yet, James still got the impression of an eye roll. ¡°Research overcommitted and too many duplications were made. There was a similar communication error that led to our stockpile of green orbs that reduce the cleaning time of restrooms.¡± James nodded in understanding. ¡°Cool. Cash my credits in on those. I have a Lesson to advance.¡± ¡°Again, you have unlimited access.¡± Caller-Of-Midnight said bluntly as their human partner pulled out a keyring and started going through drawers under the counter, eventually coming up with three yellow orbs. All of them the size of big grapes, and while he couldn¡¯t feel anything, James knew they were brimming with power. ¡°Would you like anything else?¡± The camraconda asked as James picked up the orbs. ¡°I¡¯ll come by when there¡¯s another crisis and I need a miracle.¡± James promised with a smile. ¡°Tino. Nice to meet ya. Oh, how¡¯re you liking the Order so far?¡± The young man looked at the camraconda that he was working with, then back to James. ¡°It¡¯s kinda wild, but I¡¯m getting used to it. I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m supposed to be doing though?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s normal!¡± James reassured him. ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out. Like, actually, that¡¯s the point of bouncing you around different jobs. You¡¯ll find something that you¡¯ll end up making yours. And if you don¡¯t, then¡­ nothing bad happens. You just keep looking.¡± He shrugged. Tino narrowed his eyes. ¡°Is that why you had me cleaning bathrooms for a week?¡± ¡°First off, I have been either sick or delving for the last week, so that wasn¡¯t my fault.¡± James defended his honor. ¡°But also, cleaning bathrooms is important. I¡¯ve done the math! You know how you tend to clean your home bathroom about once a week? Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t correct me on that. Don¡¯t make me sad. Just nod. Well, that represents something like twenty to forty ¡®uses¡¯, depending on how many people you live with and how well hydrated you are. So if a bathroom is getting used that often every six hours, it¡¯s kinda important to actually put the work in to keep it clean and comfortable. And that¡¯s really what we aim for.¡± ¡°Why have you just done the math on that?¡± Tino asked. ¡°Like, why? Do you not have hobbies?¡± ¡°My main hobby is designing a city.¡± James admitted with a grin. ¡°Also did someone say green orbs that reduce bathroom cleaning time? That sounds so unbelievably powerful, holy shit.¡± He paused. Then added, ¡°Pun unintended.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Caller-Of-Midnight asked. ¡°It is paired with an emotional resonance rank in pity, incidentally, if you were curious.¡± James nodded. ¡°I was.¡± He stated. ¡°And it¡¯s powerful because time is the most valuable resource we have. And that¡¯s time that would never be wasted. And it lasts forever. So that adds up to whole lifetimes saved, on a long enough timeline. I think that¡¯s valuable. No one wants to clean the bathrooms, even if it is important. Or at least, I never want to when it¡¯s my job for the week.¡± He shrugged, and then stepped back, disengaging. ¡°Also I think someone needs their mail. Thanks you two! Have fun!¡± He let the person politely waiting approach, and stopped monopolizing their time. Which had the added bonus of getting him out of a social situation that James realized abruptly he just didn¡¯t have the fortitude to continue. He could have tapped into his Endurance to push on, but that seemed like a great way to end up collapsing in a basement hallway in half an hour when he let go of his grip on it. So he just left, and then listened to his rumbling stomach and headed to get lunch from the Order¡¯s little restaurant while he used the orbs he¡¯d technically purchased. [+2 Skill Ranks : Programming - Database - SQL] [+.8 Skill Ranks : Programming - Database - SQL] [+.2 Skill Ranks : Programming - Database - SQL] One of the weird things about yellow orb skills was that they never changed how James approached problems. He felt like, with this much of any one tool, he should be finding nails to use it as a hammer for. But instead, it just kind of pooled there; waiting for him to call on it, if he really needed to make something to manage the Order¡¯s digital archive. Which he didn¡¯t, because someone else surely already had it covered, and if they didn¡¯t, then there were too many of these orbs waiting behind the front desk for them. Even with the diminishing returns, three ranks for three orbs was pretty good, and was almost certainly enough to shove his Lesson over the threshold. But James was doing this thing he liked to call ¡®thinking before taking dumb actions¡¯, so he actually grabbed one of the small tables and sat down before he prompted his Sewer based magic into reacting to the change. The abrupt transition to being in a degrading and filthy classroom, sitting at the only clean desk in the middle of a moldy pile of rubble, was as jarring as always. Even though James knew he wouldn¡¯t remember this later, he still didn¡¯t like it now. The teacher, a ball of tweed and sharp blades that was currently digging claws into the blackboard and making a symphony of the screech, demanded something of him. Fortunately, James already knew his answer. He¡¯d actually had the chance to think on it beforehand. Study, Energy, or Composure. Study was the answer for a different version of James; someone who spent less time doing dangerous stuff and more time planning a society, ingesting statistics to convert them to knowledge, and just learning for the sake of learning. James wanted it so badly, and maybe he¡¯d take it as his second rank. But not now. Composure was for a version of James who hadn¡¯t already gotten a lot of practice bantering with people who were shooting at him. It would be valuable, absolutely, but it wasn¡¯t what he needed. What he needed was Energy. Constantly. So he called out his answer, got screamed at by the Sewer construct that apparently managed these rewards, and then snapped his eyes back open in the real world. [Lesson Continues : Basketball IV (18/4,200), Aim II, Agility I Lesson Continues : Biology IV (611/4,200), Endurance III Lesson Continues : Computer Science II (96/1,400), Energy I Merits : 266, Credits : 2, Accolades : 0] The reminder of how far he¡¯d come was welcome. There was something gratifying about seeing gains like that laid out in front of him, seeing just how much he¡¯d earned. But there was also the reminder of the problem that the more Lessons you stacked, the more it took to get to each subsequent level. When he¡¯d just had to learn about basketball, it had been 100, then 200 little bits of knowledge. But at three Lessons, even with the edge that the reading potion gave, he¡¯d gone from 350 to 1,400 for his computer science path¡¯s next increase. And yet, James didn¡¯t care. He suddenly felt¡­ ready. More alert, more energetic. Not like he could take on the world; he was actually still recovering from being sick and that reality didn¡¯t just go away. But he felt like he had a much larger reserve that he could draw on, coming from nowhere in particular, if he actually needed it. And that reassurance was worth the cost. He¡¯d be around for a long time, hopefully. So long as he was still alive, he could keep learning, and keep advancing those Lessons. But first, he had to still be alive. Eventually, one of the people working for the kitchen today dropped by his table, and James ordered a lunch special. He didn¡¯t know what it was, so he was sorta rolling the dice, but he was hungry enough that trying something new would be easy. While he waited, he used some of that new energy he was infused with - which was really nothing more than just a boost to how adventurous his attitude was - to take a quick elevator ride upstairs to the LA office and grab a drink from the vending machine there. Also random. Really was prepared for anything, it felt like. He got back to find his table had been occupied by Texture-Of-Barkdust, who was using her fangs to flip through an economics textbook while occasionally glancing up. She spotted him just before James decided to abandon his previous spot and claim a different table, and waved him over with a waggle of her tail from the basket chair she was curled up in. ¡°Hey Barkdust.¡± James greeted the camraconda as he sat back down. ¡°How¡¯s-¡° ¡°Explain communism.¡± She demanded of him abruptly. James clapped his hands together in front of his chest, elbows planted on the table. ¡°No!¡± He briskly shot back. ¡°That seems like such an enormous hole to fall down right now!¡± The camraconda glared at him in her own way. ¡°This text has numerous assumption-based errors founded on a cultural perspective I do not understand. I require an explanation from someone who is a part of that culture, to begin to extract what usable information it does hold.¡± She explained. ¡°Which means I am asking you to explain communism.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve had this nightmare.¡± James muttered. ¡°Except the teacher wasn¡¯t a snake, and I wasn¡¯t wearing pants.¡± ¡°If you need to remove your pants to explain communism, I will find someone else.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust told him with blunt honesty. James sighed. ¡°Okay. So. Communism in general is the idea that¡­ actually, I don¡¯t even know if I have a good answer for this? There¡¯s literally whole books written just about trying to express this idea. I think a common theme though is that it¡¯s the idea that because labor has value, the value of that labor should be distributed to the people who do the labor. And through doing this, you build a stronger society, that uses its resources to take care of everyone, regardless of their labor-based value.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust looked back at her economics text, then back at James, then back to the book. Slowly, she leaned forward and used her fangs to flip backward several pages. ¡°Under communist governments,¡± she quoted, ¡°there is no concept of private ownership, rendering economic incentives meaningless.¡± She looked up. ¡°The author is stating that this harms innovation, as well as personal motivation for growth.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yeah. A lot of people say that.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I have a counterpoint?¡± She nodded at him to continue. ¡°Okay. Well, you¡¯re studying economics, presumably because of your work with Karen, right?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust nodded again, slowly, the bulky lens of her eye narrowing. ¡°Okay. That was it.¡± ¡°That is a terrible point. Be more direct.¡± She ordered him. ¡°I¡­ oh, thank you!¡± James shot a smile as his lunch arrived. He realized the person bringing him what looked like a plate of enchiladas was Morgan, and decided to go say hi to the kid in the kitchen after he ate, and escaped from Texture-Of-Barkdust. ¡°Okay, direct. Sure. Barkdust, you have no economic incentives.¡± He told her. ¡°We¡¯re fucking rich. Like, we could cash out right now, sell the Order¡¯s assets, and every one of us could retire to a tropical island with an endless stream of luxuries, as long as we share Netflix passwords. But we¡¯re all still here, and so are you. So why?¡± She looked back down at her textbook while James started covering his lunch in sour cream. He was two bites in, and enjoying the rich flavor, when she chomped into the side of the book, made an arc with her neck to slam it closed, and then shoved it off the table entirely. ¡°I am accustomed to sources being reliable.¡± She hissed angrily as she spoke. ¡°And now that you point it out to me, I cannot even see this author having ever met another living person.¡± ¡°Well, they are an economist.¡± James said around a mouthful of shredded chicken and red sauce. ¡°Do not be coy. This is important. This is being presented as knowledge.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust sounded legitimately angry. ¡°Why? Wait. Is this about a historic power struggle again?¡± She hissed something that was almost a word and focused her lens on something James couldn¡¯t see. ¡°I have gained two points in my social studies Lesson from this already. This is about nation states, isn¡¯t it?¡± He didn¡¯t know why he suddenly felt guilty for eating lunch, but James sighed after gulping down a bite. ¡°You know it absolutely is.¡± He said sadly. ¡°That¡¯s sort of the problem with an explanation; I can tell you about theory, but then you won¡¯t get the real world history. And I could tell you that history, but then you¡¯ll come away not understanding why anyone would ever come close to agreeing to that. Or at least, the history as I know it in the shadow of the Cold War.¡± ¡°I am going to go find a different book.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust told him with clear ire. ¡°And then we are going to discuss distribution of resources.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ sure?¡± James smiled warily. ¡°I mean, I can do that without the broader context. Like, you want me to talk about how wealth should be a flow structure and a GDP should essentially be divided among people within five percentage points of variance?¡± ¡°No.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust pulled herself out of her chair, slithering to the ground and touching down with dexterity that always surprised James when it came from the two-hundred-pound-plus camracondas. She collected her book, filling her fangs with the now somewhat scarred text before looking back up at him. ¡°I do require context. I will ask Planner to schedule a time to talk, which I am certain will be postponed due to crisis, but at least we will try.¡± ¡°Of course. Yeah. I mean¡­ when you just say it that way, it feels bad! But I¡¯ll always try to be around if you need to talk.¡± James told her. Then the camraconda bobbed a nod to him and left, leaving him to his lunch. James ate quickly, mostly out of reflex and not because he had anywhere to be. It was a habit he was trying to break, and he wasn¡¯t doing a good job of it, and it didn¡¯t take long before he¡¯d demolished the meal. His lingering hunger from eating mostly soup and crackers for a few days making it pretty easy, and then the lingering bits of discomfort making it seem like a terrible idea right afterward as his stomach made its displeasure known. But not before he¡¯d tried a sip of his fermented coconut soda, decided he hated every part of that, and then tried it again a few times just to make sure. Which was how he found the surprise purple orb that was suspended in the fluid. [Shell Upgrade : -1.2 oz dead skin/year] ¡°Huh. Neat. Also I really need to stop thinking these things have boba in them and be better about extracting the orbs.¡± James spoke to himself as he stood and cleared his table. And then, with nothing in particular to do and a desire to bug a certain teenager, he headed for the kitchen. Weaving his way through tables large and small, about a third of them occupied by members of the Order eating, chatting, laughing, or just relaxing on their own. It made him feel really, really good to see just how thoroughly the people under his banner had accepted and mingled their lives with the camracondas and ratroaches and everyone else that came to them. Equally good to see many of those camracondas holding conversations now as equals, those ratroaches having lunch out in the open without fear. After he passed by the last couple tables, sliding between a Response duo that were doing reporting paperwork and a group of some of the people who organized their youth groups doing planning for that evening after the human children arrived, James made it through the room and slipped into the kitchen. Nate wasn¡¯t there today, so he nodded to Marjorie and her pair of helper cooks that were doing an admirable job of keeping up on everything, and then headed over to harass Morgan. ¡°Hey kid.¡± James greeted the teenager. Morgan didn¡¯t look up from his phone, the lanky teen wearing his hair tied back as he worked to keep it out of face and food. ¡°You¡¯re never gonna stop that, are you?¡± James smiled. ¡°I mean, honestly? I absolutely will if you tell me to. Does it actually bother you or does it just sound too much like I¡¯m a real adult?¡± ¡°That second one.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll probably keep it up.¡± James nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be a real adult someday! Gotta get practice in.¡± He kept grinning as he pretended Morgan¡¯s stare - a poor imitation of seriousness - tried to bring him down. ¡°Anyway. Just checking in on ya. Things going okay?¡± Morgan tossed his phone down on the counter in a way that made James wince in sympathetic pain for the poor electronic. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. Just sending memes in a group chat.¡± He looked at James. ¡°Oh, you might be too old. ¡®Memes¡¯ are these things where-¡° ¡°Don¡¯t lecture me about the memes, you whippersnapper!¡± James affected an old man voice. ¡°I was posting image macros when you were in grade school!¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Morgan said. ¡°So was I.¡± ¡°Touche.¡± James laughed lightly. ¡°Why the phone though? I know for a fact you have a skulljack, against all advisement.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± James raised his eyebrows at the panicked looking kid. ¡°Uh, is the best you thought of? You¡¯ve had months without me accusing you of this to plan.¡± ¡°Um¡­ I was¡­¡± He looked at James and realized that there was no anger on his face at all. ¡°Wait, I¡¯m not in trouble at all, am I?¡± He asked, and James shook his head. ¡°Alright, then yeah. But I suck at browsing TikTok in my head so I use a real phone.¡± ¡°Fair. So, you¡¯re working here?¡± James prompted. ¡°I figured you¡¯d be doing stuff with the gardens or something.¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°Liz asked me to cover for her today. And I¡­ uh¡­ I mean, I¡¯ll¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t finish his thought before his cheeks turned red enough to be noticeable and he shifted to look away from James. ¡°Wow, I wonder if I was that transparent as a kid.¡± James muttered to himself with quiet amusement. ¡°Well hey, it¡¯s cool however it goes. Pretty much everyone we bring in we rotate through positions, you know? You¡¯ll be a full member before you know it.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t even graduated high school.¡± Morgan protested. ¡°Hey, I also never asked to join!¡± ¡°Okay, do you wanna join?¡± James asked. ¡°I mean, yeah, but¡­¡± ¡°Cool. Keep up the good work!¡± James clapped him on the shoulder, and saw one of the kitchen staff muffling a heavy laugh. ¡°But also, if you wanna go back to school, it might feel weird but we¡¯re on track to try out a limited run of our own actual organized program next year. So you can!¡± Morgan grabbed his phone again and shoved it in an apron pocket. ¡°I dunno. It seems weird now? Like I missed it.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I just got used to being the least weird person around.¡± ¡°Oh, like high schoolers aren¡¯t all fuckin¡¯ weird to begin with.¡± James snorted. ¡°I¡¯m not so old and decrepit that I don¡¯t remember. Some people just hid it better.¡± He realized that Morgan was doing something familiar; making excuses for why it was okay to not take a risk. James had done that a lot. Still did that a lot, really, since he hadn¡¯t dunked his head in shaper substance and tried to see how cool of a body he could make. Or even just tried being romantic with some people, just out of background worry that it would change things. James was the master of avoiding taking risks that weren¡¯t really that bad. ¡°Okay, so, I can¡¯t promise you won¡¯t feel weird. But it¡¯d be okay, and if you wanna make that choice, you can. I think it¡¯d be helpful for you though.¡± He shrugged lightly. ¡°Especially if you wanna get a good grounding for the kind of stuff you¡¯d be doing with us, if you want stick around.¡± ¡°Y-yeah!¡± Morgan tried and failed to hide his excitement, in the way teenagers did where they were probably certain they¡¯d gotten away with it. ¡°I mean, yeah. Sure. Sorta feels like you¡¯re trying to emotionally manipulate me into this, but I¡¯ll think about it.¡± ¡°Oh, that reminds me!¡± James said, slapping his palms together with a distant look in his eyes. ¡°Okay, I¡®m gonna get going, let you go back to work. Why¡¯s it so quiet in here today, anyway? I figured someone¡¯d need you by now.¡± ¡°Everyone¡¯s off on the delve.¡± Morgan was eager to impart the knowledge he¡¯d been picking up listening in on conversations all day. ¡°What, everyone? Noooo. Like, Charlie and his crew aren¡¯t. I know that.¡± ¡°They¡¯re in Missouri.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ Nate?¡± ¡°Nate¡¯s on vacation.¡± ¡°Seriously? Fucking good for him!¡± James smiled appreciatively. ¡°Alright. Hey, just so you know, you¡¯re doing great. I¡¯ll see you later.¡± Morgan was too taken aback by the open praise that it wasn¡¯t until James out of the kitchen and he was halfway through the next task the cook gave him that he thought of something. ¡°Wait, why does emotional manipulation remind him of something?¡± With his enhanced hearing, James caught the words from the other side of the kitchen door where he was just checking a few things before actually leaving the area, and smirked to himself. It was always good to get a few mysterious wizard moments in every day. Mostly what he was checking on was the next teleport to Townton. James had been either delving or recovering for weeks, and he felt like he was starting to get out of the loop on the fact that they had hundreds of nonhuman refugees hanging out down there. A meaningful amount of the Order¡¯s money and operation time was going into that, but more important than just the resource cost, was the fact that James did care about them. It was just getting harder to fit everything into his life. But that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t take some time to go say hi. James figured it was important to have some first hand knowledge of things that he was supposed to participate in the discussion about when the Order made decisions about how to move forward. He wasn¡¯t going to know all the names and faces, but he was going to do his best to understand everything he could about their lives. But he also had an hour or so to wait. So in the meantime, he headed to one of the basements, because Deb had messaged him about a conversation while he was having lunch, and if James could keep his list of problems managed today, he¡¯d still have some of that extra energy left over when he went home with Anesh later. The Lair¡¯s hospital space was pretty quiet, though Deb was talking to someone James didn¡¯t recognize, and he didn¡¯t want to bother her. So he checked in with the front desk, and went to visit Banana while he was here. Down the long hall that shouldn¡¯t have fit down here, and that no one had ever really ¡®built¡¯, past the quarantined rooms where several ratroaches and one human who¡¯d gotten some kind of Akashic Sewer infection were waiting to be cleared. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. In her own long term observation room, more decorated than any of the others by far, the girl assembled from parts of crows and wasps sat reading a book. Four legs, three of them ending in smoothed stumps from where her stingers had been shattered, were folded underneath her. The crack on her beak was more like a scar now, and she had a fitted patch for her missing eye. Black feathers that had regrown in a place with less damp and far less fungal infections shone on her thin frame, the elytra that didn¡¯t really match up to any earth species cracked open to let her arms hold the book she was reading. She was also surrounded by stuffed animals. Like some kind of throne. ¡°Hey Banana!¡± James grinned as he lightly tapped on the door and leaned around the corner. ¡°Just wanted to say hi!¡± ¡°Aaaames!¡± The girl¡¯s voice was a squawk, pitch rising and dipping as she greeted him with her book dropped back to the hospital bed¡¯s clean sheets. ¡°Lllo!¡± James was still smiling as he slipped around the corner and approached her at an even pace to lightly ruffle the stuff on her head that was apparently a sort of feathery antenna. She squawked in earnest then, not a word, just a sound, before devolving into a buzzing giggle as her wings flailed at James. ¡°How¡¯ve you been doing?¡± He asked. ¡°Doing some reading?¡± She nodded at him, shaking off his hand. Then she tried to say something and found her voice turning into a buzzing mess of consonants. Banana didn¡¯t get demoralized though, instead poking James and gesturing to the table by her bed, shaking her head as he pointed at things and asked if that was what she wanted until he got to a cable and earned a nod. Taking it, Banana¡¯s crooked fingers slipped a few times as she plugged her skulljack into the small speaker, but she did it all on her own otherwise. ¡°Reading. A. Book. About. Avian. Bone. Structure.¡± She spoke with a default mechanical voice. Learning how to talk as smoothly as a camraconda was a work in progress. Apparently she¡¯d used a helper program the first few times, but that didn¡¯t give her as much flexibility, so now she was learning to do it herself. ¡°Nice.¡± James nodded as he looked at the book she had dropped. It was colorfully illustrated, and looked like something that was about two levels above a Zoobook in terms of knowledge. Educational, but not overwhelming, hopefully. ¡°You like learning about birds?¡± He asked with a teasing voice. Banana didn¡¯t rise to his bait, instead twisting her head at an angle that would kill a human to point her beak up at his face, her good eye glinting in the hospital¡¯s lights at his question. ¡°I. Have. To. Learn. How. To. Put. My. Body. Together.¡± She told him. ¡°Amy. Helping. Library. Orbs. Helping.¡± Her organic voice punctuated that last statement with a happy buzz. James hadn¡¯t known that they¡¯d gotten any orbs from the Ceaseless Stacks that would help Banana out, but it made sense there¡¯d be at least a few. They¡¯d brought back a lot of those. At least a couple thousand, as far as he knew. If any of them were about birds or bees at all, then copies of those orbs would help Banana and any future rescues of her species to learn how to reforge their bodies, and that was very valuable to the Order¡¯s mission statement. Though it did bring up a question for him. ¡°So, you¡¯re gonna be a bird of some kind?¡± James asked her. Banana nodded, idly pulling a stuffed badger into her lap and slowly petting the toy¡¯s soft fur. ¡°Ebbb aye¡­¡± She started to say out loud, before buzzing in frustration and switching voices. ¡°Deb. Says. Bigger. Changes. Too. Hard. So. I. Will. Be. This. But. Fixed. Up.¡± The crow-wasp made another noise like a buzzing huff of exasperation. That information was something James hadn¡¯t heard. But then, he¡¯d been kind of not paying attention to ongoing shaper substance trials and experiments. Partly because he sort of did want to change his body, even if he didn¡¯t exactly know what to; but he felt like if he knew more, it would become¡­ more real, maybe. Something he was actively avoiding instead of just that passively ¡®wasn¡¯t ready yet¡¯. ¡°Well hey.¡± He told Banana kindly. ¡°You¡¯re already pretty cute. Now you can be cute and healthy too. That¡¯s important!¡± ¡°Nnnnnnnnaao!¡± Banana cawed out. ¡°¡®Annna ¡®eee ah sssharrk!¡± Her voice was filled with buzzing clicks, but it was clear she¡¯d been practicing saying this particular thing. James couldn¡¯t hold back a riotous laugh that erupted out of him at the statement. ¡°Okay!¡± He told her. ¡°We¡¯ll look into turning you into a shark.¡± ¡°Arrrrk orrrrbs.¡± Banana told him firmly, staring up at James. ¡°Shark. Orbs.¡± She added in her digital words as she swapped back, breathing heavily. He pressed his lips together, hoping the almost painful smile on his face didn¡¯t make Banana feel like he was making fun of her. James wasn¡¯t quite sure what the difference was between the species, but Banana at least always came across as a lot younger, by human standards, than the ratroaches. She wasn¡¯t stupid by any means, but it was taking her a lot longer, even with magical assistance, to really comprehend the more advanced biology topics that were needed to safely shift around your internal organs. ¡°I¡¯ll find you some shark orbs.¡± James promised. ¡°But you need to get yourself to a stable body first, alright?¡± She snapped her head to the side, looking away from James, and he set a hand on the bed next to her comfortingly. ¡°Hey, once you do, you¡¯ll be able to go out for longer without hurting yourself. We can go explore a bit, okay?¡± ¡°Cafe?¡± Banana asked in her digital voice. ¡°Banana. Smoothie?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± A pang of sharp guilt hit James in the chest. ¡°I¡­ the¡­¡± he hadn¡¯t been prepared for this, and his breathing quickened as Banana caught him off guard entirely by accident. ¡°The cafe is¡­¡± The girl looked back at him, tilting her head curiously to focus her eye on his face as she sensed his distress. ¡°Aaames?¡± She squawked. He took a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯ll need to find a new place that makes smoothies.¡± James said, his smile back in place, if a little shaky. ¡°But yeah, we can do that.¡± Banana¡¯s face lit up, any sense of trouble forgotten in a moment at the promise of a sugary drink. James was about to say something else, but there was a light knock on the glass door of the room, and he looked over to see Deb watching him. ¡°Hey, I gotta go do a thing. I¡¯ll drop by later, see if I can get you some shark orbs. And I¡¯ll make sure Alanna remembers to visit when she¡¯s back.¡± He said more cheerfully. ¡°Be a good kid and do your homework!¡± He commanded with mock sternness. Banana nodded rapidly, and picked up her book, shifting her feathered tail around under the pillows as she got comfortable again. She peeked over the edge of the book at him as he turned to meet her eyes from the door, making a buzzing giggle as she looked back down, and then got pulled back into the words and pictures. James shook his head, still smiling softy as he walked back down the hall next to Deb. ¡°Yo.¡± He said. ¡°What do you need to talk about?¡± ¡°First off, thank you for visiting Banana.¡± Deb said. ¡°I know you¡¯ve been taking time to recover, but that girl does love it when you and Alanna show up.¡± ¡°Yeah, of course. Also this is how I recover.¡± James lied through his teeth. Deb didn¡¯t even bother giving him a look as she led him into the little office space she used for private conversations. ¡°The only reason you still have your left arm attached is because your bones are an ontological challenge to break.¡± Deb stated in an unimpressed voice. ¡°And also because Nik¡¯s authority is starting to get farther and farther into actual magical healing.¡± ¡°A lot of the Response authorities are too!¡± James said happily. ¡°It¡¯s kinda a weird situation, since they can¡¯t actually be full time delvers, even though that¡¯s where they¡¯d do the most healing, without losing some of the power. But I¡¯m finding it kind of¡­ okay, this is off topic. Sorry.¡± Snorting a laugh as she leaned against a shelf, ignoring the chair for her own desk, Deb shook her head and folded her arms on her chest. ¡°You¡¯re fine.¡± She said. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ a lot going on around here. I don¡¯t mind the update.¡± She closed her eyes, breathing slowly and enjoying the quiet as James let her take a moment. Deb herself still felt like she hadn¡¯t recovered from the Climb. Even if it was only a few days, and they had exercise potions aplenty, her legs still ached and the allure of sitting down was too tempting to give in to. And now she was doing more work to distract herself from how her girlfriend was flying around at high speeds fighting road spiders or whatever Route Horizon had in it. So she appreciated the quiet moment, even if she was going to interrupt it for herself. ¡°Speaking of things going on around here¡­¡± Deb led into what she had wanted to discuss with James. ¡°Ominous.¡± He said. ¡°Are you doing okay? We can get you more help, you know.¡± He told her. ¡°No no, I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m tired for personal reasons, not work reasons.¡± Deb felt a weird appreciation for the compassion. She¡¯d been kind of hostile to James in the past, and while they¡¯d worked through it, there was a constant and very human voice in the back of her head whispering that the problem persisted. ¡°Okay. Have you met Smoke?¡± ¡°Ratroach, darker chitin, white fur but dyes it purple, nonverbal, worked with Recovery until Karen found out she was doing it because she thought we¡¯d murder her if she wasn¡¯t useful?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Deb couldn¡¯t keep mild surprise out of her voice. ¡°Are you cheating?¡± She looked around at James¡¯ neck. ¡°I¡¯m online, but no, I just knew that.¡± He said with a proud smirk. ¡°Anyway, is she doing okay?¡± ¡°Sort of.¡± Deb said. ¡°She doesn¡¯t talk because her body literally doesn¡¯t support it, but she¡¯s still pretty clever. She had a few friends online that she talks to through text. Non-Order.¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± James raised his eyebrows. That was cool, but he was waiting for Deb to tell him what the problem was, and why she looked like she was chewing on a lemon. Deb dropped her arms to her sides and cut to the chase. ¡°She wants to swap bodies with one of her online friends.¡± ¡°Lol wat.¡± James laughed once. And then saw Deb¡¯s tired eyes as she looked up at him, and cleared his throat. Her patience seemed brittle at best. ¡°Sorry, I mean¡­ what? Really?¡± ¡°Really.¡± Deb said. ¡°Well, not really really. It¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s met someone who¡¯s into the idea of being in a nonhuman body, and I don¡¯t think they actually believe her, but Smoke has been sneakily asking about things in a way that makes me think she¡¯s planning to remake herself to the body they want, and then swapping with the break room table that¡­ that does that. The one that¡¯s a time bomb waiting to detonate on us. She just hasn¡¯t gotten up to asking directly.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± He said slowly. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± he paused to think. Was this an issue? The biggest problem would be making sure the other person actually knew enough to consent to this process. You couldn¡¯t just tell someone magic was real and expect them to take everything you said at face value. And James had a suspicion that Smoke¡¯s friend might see this as a kind of flirty roleplaying more than anything else, because James had been on the internet and he wasn¡¯t completely sheltered. ¡°I¡¯m gonna say something that might annoy you?¡± He started. Deb waved a hand in a flat line between them. ¡°Go for it. Can¡¯t make it any worse, and I assume you¡¯re just gonna say yes.¡± ¡°Sorta. Why don¡¯t we just invite Smoke¡¯s friend here? Like, get a security check done first, sure, but then invite¡­ them?¡± ¡°Her.¡± Deb informed James. ¡°My understanding is that half of the appeal is that she¡¯s trans.¡± ¡°Okay, I feel like this would be an issue if it were our policy answer to things. But it¡¯s not right now, we¡¯re still working through stuff, and so why not?¡± James asked with a shrug. ¡°Is there a reason to not bring her in, show her around, let Smoke actually hang out with her friend, and then see if they¡¯re both still willing to try it? Wait, hang on; the table is reversible!¡± James thwacked a few fingers off his forehead and instantly regretted it as the lingering ghost of a headache reminded him he was technically supposed to be sick and that magic couldn¡¯t kill the symptoms instantly. ¡°It¡¯s reversible. Let¡¯s go for it. Anything with an undo button is okay.¡± Deb gave him a small nod, mouth set in a line. ¡°I hadn¡¯t actually thought of that.¡± She admitted. ¡°My main worry is Smoke¡¯s mental well being if this goes wrong somehow. Or the trauma if one of them wants it undone.¡± ¡°Also a good point. Why not just send her therapist a note about it, and they can talk it through beforehand?¡± James asked, and got a nod from Deb as she tilted her head up and closed her eyes in the way she usually did when using her skulljack for things. It took her very little time, and she looked back and nodded before James could even realize he was waiting. ¡°Okay. Cool. God I love these things.¡± He muttered. ¡°Do you want me to talk to Smoke?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯ll do it. That girl hides it, but she¡¯s not exactly comfortable around the more dangerous people here.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± James tried and failed to keep a sad frown off his face. ¡°Yeah, I mean¡­ I get it.¡± He nodded, keeping himself from feeling personally sad about it. ¡°But yeah, am I missing any potential problems?¡± Deb shook her head, a strand of blonde hair that had escaped where she¡¯d tied it up fluttering on the side of her face. ¡°I think the biggest issue is going to be personal. People have gotten used to ratroaches behaving like what we think of as how ratroaches act. If there¡¯s someone who¡¯s human, in a ratroach body, then that¡¯s going to upend some assumptions. Buuuuut¡­¡± She trailed off. Picking up on her comment, James added a nod. ¡°But that¡¯s already happening, right? Some ratroaches are a lot smarter or speak differently than some people except. I mean, also, I don¡¯t care if species-based assumptions get messed with, that¡¯s a whole¡­ I don¡¯t care. I guess the biggest issue is gonna be for Smoke¡¯s friend, right? She¡¯s gonna have to deal with being something totally different, and presumably she¡¯s not isolated from human society.¡± ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll need to make sure they actually know what they¡¯re in for.¡± Deb pursed her lips. ¡°But like you brought up, we can undo it. Maybe something where they trade for short periods, hashing out if they¡¯re going to make it more permanent. Yeah, this is workable.¡± She sighed. ¡°Thanks.¡± ¡°Yeah, of course. I mean, I hardly did anything, but I¡¯m always willing to do hardly anything.¡± James grinned as he answered. Deb snorted at him. ¡°Liar.¡± She accused bluntly. ¡°Alright, get out of here. I¡¯m sure you have something to do, and I¡¯ve got stuff to take care of.¡± James followed her out of the cozy little office, gave a polite incline of his head to the guy manning the front desk for their medical facility, and then left Deb to her own work as she rapidly transitioned out of the casual resting stance she¡¯d used around him, and into something more animated and energetic. He should try to get her a Sewer lesson for computer science. If anyone in this place could make use of a little extra energy, it¡¯d be Deb. With a little of his time eaten up, James made his way upstairs, and found a place to quietly lounge around while he waited for the scheduled teleport. He amused himself with a mix of people watching, and indecisively flipping through the list of spells from Winter¡¯s Climb that he still hadn¡¯t picked from fully yet. On the people watching side, it was an unexciting, but pleasant, afternoon. The most drama that appeared was a human couple that James loosely recognized as some of the original rescued people from Officium Mundi, trying to explain dating to a ratroach. It was going¡­ amusingly, at least to James. Right on the line of what was just too awkward to be able to handle. On the magical hand, he had six Climb spell slots to work with, and somehow, enough anxiety about making the ¡®right choice¡¯ to drown all of them at once. He would have had seven, but he¡¯d been the one to test out the Rot Eyes spell, so that left him with three spells and six more options. After his recent experiences, though, James was no longer comfortable leaving power sitting on the table. That was the whole point of trying to make long delves a habit, really. As part of his role as a paladin, he had a responsibility to not hoard magic. His job was to distribute the Order¡¯s special form of wealth as effectively as possible; to use their tools to combat problems. But he also had a responsibility, and a whole heap of personal trauma lurking in his soul, telling him that he could not be caught off guard again. So while he wasn¡¯t ready to start eating the loot drops of the fallen in their basement, he also wasn¡¯t going to sit idle. No matter how hard it was to pick. Between the spellbooks they¡¯d found, and ones already in inventory, there were over twenty things to pick from. And while some of them were more easily dismissible than others for what he was doing with his life, that still left him short on spell slots, and with further progression up the Mountain looking kind of like a qualitative difference in challenge. But he had half an hour to kill, and an inventory available to access through his skulljack, so he browsed and made some notes. One of the first things James noticed was that they had a spell that removed friction between something and the ground, and also a spell that made it so you couldn¡¯t lose traction, and then he stared into space for a good three minutes before deciding it wasn¡¯t worth taking both spells just to see what happened. What was likely to happen was either nothing, or his legs liquifying when he tried it, and he couldn¡¯t find any Research reports on it for some reason. He did note Frost Vector as a good candidate though, just because he felt like being able to tell friction to sit down and shut up was a good way to cut out a lot of the ways he¡¯d gotten hurt in the past. He also noted down Mountain Of The Self, the spell with an atrociously high Breath per second cost, but that offered an unprecedented level of improvement to his ability to stop getting hurt the same way twice. He had Breath to spare now, though the fact that using it was painful and dangerous hadn¡¯t changed. If anything, it made the spell riskier. But it would also let him walk through hell. Even better, if it was literal fire and brimstone hell, it might actually offset the temperature drop. From the new books, Call To Blood was a quick addition to his list. James wasn¡¯t sure when he¡¯d need it, but he could think of a lot of cases where it would have offered a lot of investigative power that would have let him avoid a lot of grief. He¡¯d started a quip to Zhu when he picked it, before remembering that the navigator was currently off with Alanna. James sighed as he realized just how quiet it was when he was alone. It wasn¡¯t like he was really actually alone; that explanation of romance was still happening near him, and a few kids were hanging out at the corner table playing Minecraft. Also he¡¯d seen Anesh literally a couple hours ago, and his boyfriend was also at the Lair right now if he wanted a quick kiss. But it had been a while since he¡¯d been alone in his head. And it was weird how comfortable he¡¯d gotten with it. He¡¯d been worried that, with Zhu gone, he might have realized that the infomorph was doing something that changed how he felt about the situation to make him more okay with it. But no, it turned out, he¡¯d just adapted to having someone with him all the time, and now deprived of that, James felt lonely. He shook it off. Alanna and Zhu would be back by the end of the week, and in the meantime, he¡¯d console himself by burying himself in a pile of Aneshes when he got home. The next spell he earmarked was Winter Wroth. Which was, in his own words on the report, kind of fucked up. And James didn¡¯t like the particularly grim thought that he might ¡°need¡± to assassinate someone someday. So he didn¡¯t commit to it yet, just put it on the ¡®maybe¡¯ list. Not on the maybe list was the spell that messed with math itself, because that one was off limits until it had been very very thoroughly tested. He also regretfully left off a lot of the crafting or production magics. It would have been cool, and maybe he¡¯d get the chance someday, but that wasn¡¯t what he was doing right now. But that was okay; it was okay to specialize. And besides, no one could safely cast the spell that created a spatial warp, so they didn¡¯t even know if it was worth it. Survival Flare went on his short list, because it had potential in a lot of situations including combat. Pulling heat to an object sounded like one of his least favorite D&D tricks with the heat metal spell, but what annoyed him in games was fair game when someone was shooting at him. It also made him wonder - and the Research notes confirmed he wasn¡¯t the first one to think it - if some of the spells were maybe designed to be supporting casts for the fact that actually using breath drained away your heat and air. He was about to close down his work and finalize his notes later, rising to head out to the parking lot with a few others for the long range teleport that came in the form of swapping two bubbles of space, when he caught one last thing to read. Cloud Prowler was a spell that James had sadly felt like he couldn¡¯t actually justify taking. It sounded so cool, making a cat out of ice or snow or something similar. Not exactly useful, just something casually magical and deeply satisfying. If that had been the only spell he¡¯d ever gotten from the Climb, he could have walked away feeling like magic was worth it. But instead, he had choices, and felt obligated to put together a build that actually let him keep people safe. And then he noticed the note. And James quickly dialed a number as he followed a few other people outside into the breezy afternoon. ¡°John¡¯s phone, this is John, how can I help you?¡± John answered promptly. If he weren¡¯t in kind of a hurry, James would have commented on that intro. ¡°Hey, real quick. You signed off on a report about the Cloud Prowler WC spell. And the note just says ¡®it¡¯s the same cat¡¯ and then nothing about that. What¡¯s up with that? Quickly, before I confuse the fuck out of a cell tower.¡± James asked, halfway to where the logisticor was set up. To his credit, John didn¡¯t even pause. A couple years in Research had helped him grow into the kind of person that responded rapidly under pressure. ¡°I mean it¡¯s the same cat. Every time, you summon a cat. It might look different, but it¡¯s the same.¡± ¡°The same how?¡± James asked. ¡°Like, you mean the same mind?¡± ¡°Exactly, yes. It remembers everything.¡± ¡°Holy shit. We have a pokemon spell.¡± James said with wide eyes and a note of wonder in his voice. John didn¡¯t react much to the tone. ¡°A lot of people say that. Anything else?¡± James muttered out a quick goodbye and hung up. ¡°A lot of people say that, my ass.¡± He grumbled as he stepped into the teleport circle. ¡°Alright. Defense against friction, defense against everything, investigation, heat, cat. And¡­ fuck the sneak attack knife. I¡¯ll work around it. Does that sound¡­¡± James trailed off when he remembered again that he was talking to no one. ¡°Ugh. I need more ibuprofen.¡± He sighed, getting a knowing nod from one of the other passengers on this particular warp ride. Only six people plus the operator were heading down; just a scheduled supply run to move a couple pallets of food and water. It turned out that when it came to moving large quantities of food, the lunchbox of holding lunch was annoyingly inefficient. Especially for non-lunch items. A vision of a different world rose up around them, a line of change like a car window slowly rolling up and showing off the real outside. Except it wasn¡¯t a different world; just Tennessee. And the line of change crept up in a steady pattern, eventually closing off overhead, the blue sky changing to a different shade filled with clouds as the teleport ended. And then they were just somewhere else. Between one moment and the next, what was a window became what was real. ¡°Welcome to scenic Townton!¡± Someone said. ¡°Where our motto is ¡®legally, they are not zombies¡¯.¡± James barked a laugh that joined a couple of the others, and stepped out of the circle of terrain that used to belong to Oregon. He helped get one of the pallets moved while someone else started up the generator they had on standby to recharge the teleport relic, and after that, made his way across a few cleared city blocks to where the chanters were camped out. ¡°Camped out¡± might have been the wrong term. The long stretch of park that the Order had taken over looked almost Edenic at this point. Sycamore and gum trees that had lasted through the death throes of the city stood revitalized, dotted among flourishing greens and splashes of blooming color. But among that wild and free growth, there were dozens of thick canvas tents. The Order had acquired a bunch of them from a disaster relief surplus organization, and put them to use here as shelter until something more permanent could be put together, but the chanters had immediately taken to them. The creatures that looked intimidating with their bladed limbs and frilled shells radiated a sense of cautious safety as they cozied up in packs inside the wide tents. Literally radiated. James could feel it from here. Their empathic ability blanketed the area as a background whisper, as they got used to using it more. It was still fearful. James wasn¡¯t sure it would ever stop being a little afraid. But that was okay; fear wasn¡¯t a sin, and a constant little reminder of the depths that humanity could drag itself into maybe wasn¡¯t the worst thing in the world. The chanters were a living monument of how not to treat a people. It was a little odd to walk down city streets that had been reclaimed, but not put back to use as byways for cars. The team down here used a few Kei trucks to move supplies around the area, but otherwise the streets were treated like an extension of the park after they¡¯d been cleared of debris. It made it feel like it was an indulgent amount of free space within the ruined city, with the different stations the Order had set up for food or medical attention or just working on interspecies communication in tents in the road around the green zone. The buildings in the area were used for bulk storage or administrative work now that they¡¯d been cleaned out and verified as safe. That had taken a lot of work, only a little of which James had helped with. But overall, it just felt like a living city. At least, here, in this small piece of it. He paused at one of the food tents where a few chanters were standing, the shelled creatures watching him with shaded shimmering eyes as he approached. The woman serving them was Dorothy, the oldest of the ex-cultists that had killed this city in the first place, and she turned to him after handing out the last of a trio of oblong shaped bowls. The chanters scuttled away quickly, moving to the sidewalk around the park to sit on the warm concrete and eat slowly somewhere away from the new human, grey hide showing in flashes as they shifted under their shells to take bites. ¡°Scaring away all my customers?¡± She challenged James with a smile that looked perfectly at home on her grandmotherly face. He chuckled. ¡°Just saying hi.¡± He said. ¡°I wanted to come by and see how things were going.¡± ¡°One of your harem was here earlier this week, you know. You could just ask her.¡± It was said in a friendly enough tone, but the word choice made James¡¯ smile harden a little. James shook it off, along with the cruel impulse to remind Dorothy where they were standing, and just went for polite professionalism. ¡°Not quite the right word, but also Alanna was here heading into the Route. I haven¡¯t talked to her in a few days.¡± ¡°Oh yes, yes.¡± Dorothy nodded slowly, looking off to the side at the sky over a one story brick structure that used to be a dentist¡¯s office. There was a small flutter of dusty orange light on her hand that brought her attention back to James. ¡°So, what brings you by?¡± ¡°Are you¡­ alright?¡± He wasn¡¯t sure why he asked, it just felt like something was off about the woman. Dorothy made a dismissive noise that was probably meant to be funny, but didn¡¯t quite hide her pain. ¡°I¡¯m just losing my mind. Happens to everyone eventually.¡± She said. ¡°Right.¡± James said, suddenly unsure if he should pry. ¡°Well. I¡¯m here mostly to see how communication is going with the chanters. And also maybe to spend some time with them, or just around the area, seeing how stuff is going and if there¡¯s anywhere I can help today.¡± She nodded at him and pointed across the park. ¡°Over on the corner of Market street, look for Dira. She¡¯s your girl. Now shoo, I¡¯ve got hungry children to feed.¡± She waved him away with a spoon before pulling one of the oval bowls out of a stack and putting a mix of beans and rice into it. James waved a thank you to her as he turned and almost jumped out of his shoes when he noticed a chanter was waiting behind him. The silent creature had snuck up on him without even really trying; he supposed the softer digits on the end of their bladed limbs meant they didn¡¯t click when they walked on pavement. It stared at him, a tiny drip of individual terror leaking out as he caught his breath. Which then faded slowly as James smiled, and gave a small wave, before stepping to the side and bowing, letting the chanter past. He skirted the edge of the park, watching the way the chanters moved and watched him as he passed. The ones on the grass stayed in rings of five or more, but sometimes one or two would break off to go get food or water from some of the Order who were hanging around. They were especially receptive to attention from the members who presented as nonhuman, which James understood. They¡¯d been kept prisoner by humans their whole life; it would take perhaps another lifetime to recover from that. Finding who he was looking for was pretty easy. There was a wide blue sunshade tent set up with a pictographic sign out front that showed what James assumed was a chanter learning how to talk. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was working, because the tent was empty of everyone but one human at the moment. Well, he assumed that she was human. She did have a mermaid tail. ¡°Hey. Dira?¡± James asked with a wave. ¡°Dorothy said I should talk to you about-¡° ¡°Indira.¡± She corrected him with an exasperated huff, as she moved to pivot the wheelchair she was in to face him. The woman was probably around James¡¯ age, skin a little darker than his boyfriend¡¯s and a thickness to her frame that made her seem comfortable. Also she had big silver loop earrings, and a tail. She sighed, deeply. ¡°I know she¡¯s trying to be nice, but it¡¯s Indira. Hello. How can I help you?¡± James made a quick mental note. ¡°Indira. Apologies. Hi, I¡¯m James. Uh, Dorothy said you¡¯re the one to talk to about how communication efforts are going, and also, are you a mermaid? Is that a thing I missed?¡± He tried not to stare at the bright green and blue tail that came off the end of her wheelchair in case it was rude. It ended in a split fin and bobbed slightly as she turned her chair. ¡°Only recreationally.¡± She answered him with a small grin. She leaned forward a little, slapping the side of her tail. ¡°This is shaped silicone, but it looks great, right? It helps the chanters feel more comfortable.¡± ¡°Oh! That¡¯s-¡° James got one excited word in before she added something onto the thought. ¡°Also I¡¯m missing a leg under here!¡± James crossed his arms, instantly recognizing the tone of someone who was hiding a lot of personal pain with a joke. ¡°You know we can fix that, right?¡± He held up a hand to stall her as she glared at him. ¡°Sorry, that might come across wrong. I am aware that something like having slightly less than one limb fewer than the average isn¡¯t a defect that deprives you of value as a person. But also, you know we can give you a leg, right?¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯ve heard that, yes.¡± Indira said flatly. ¡°Repeatedly. Thank you.¡± ¡°Aaaaaah¡­¡± James trailed off. ¡°You know what? Let¡¯s start over. Hi, I¡¯m James, that¡¯s a cool tail, how¡¯s it going getting the chanters to interact with us on a level where can begin to build relationships as peers and not caretakers?¡± Indira let out a startled laugh. James often found that someone¡¯s surprised laugh was a great way to get a glimpse into who they were as a person; most surprised laughs from his friends were silly, for example. Indira¡¯s sounded like a spooked giraffe, and James made that comparison with the utmost respect for both parties. ¡°You just pulled parachute on that real fast, huh?¡± She asked. ¡°Look, if you¡¯re here and down a leg, it means it¡¯s something personal to you. There¡¯s probably a hundred people who will help if you ask, and my name¡¯s on the list because that¡¯s what I do around here. But if you¡¯re not ready yet, that¡¯s cool.¡± He shrugged. ¡°So, chanter chat?¡± James mentally noted down the phrase ¡®chanter chat¡¯ for a potential future podcast title. In the distant future world where he had the mystical foreign substance of free time. Indira studied him with a confused expression for a minute until she decided to just move on and give him answers. Maybe in the hope that he¡¯d leave faster. ¡°They don¡¯t want to talk yet.¡± She said. ¡°Okay.¡± James nodded. ¡°I mean, I kinda figured that. But, like, is it all of them? What methods are we trying out? I¡¯m trying to get a good look at the situation so that if I run into a potential solution to any outstanding problems, I¡¯ll recognize it.¡± The explanation eased the irritation on the woman¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, okay.¡± He seemed almost hesitant to accept it, but shrugged to herself and moved on. ¡°We try a few different things, regularly. Maybe it would be better to say we offer them, not try them. Not many chanters are willing to take the risk; or maybe they don¡¯t understand that they even could. It is¡­ explaining things to them is a challenge. They are not stupid, but they are like children. Very young, very stunted children.¡± James pressed his lips together and didn¡¯t mention that it was a little hypocritical of her to call him out for his comment on her leg, and then turn around and use terms like ¡®stunted¡¯. Instead, he just asked a question. ¡°No success with skulljack connections?¡± He asked. She shook her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t work correctly. They don¡¯t know how to hold back, so it snaps into a full meld far too quickly, and anyone without infomorph assistance can¡¯t properly move complex ideas across. The chanters can understand while melded, but they don¡¯t retain the knowledge afterward, only a mild emotional imprint. I¡¯m not even sure how the first lucky idiot made it work at all. It takes a very strong heart to weather the fear they do not speak.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± James said with a nod. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± He repeated with a cheerful smile and a small wave. ¡°Hi. I am the lucky idiot. Anyway, what else?¡± Indira¡¯s look became more assessing than confused as she continued. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve gotten them to take a few different language orbs. Which is actually hard. They don¡¯t instinctively crack them, they try to make life out of the things. It usually does nothing, but there are a few little creations around here made of bits of glass and metal. They¡¯re friendly, don¡¯t worry.¡± ¡°I have never been less worried about something in my life.¡± James honestly told her. ¡°But they did eventually crack the orbs?¡± ¡°After some practice.¡± She nodded up at him, and he realized that this was probably awkward, so he stopped pacing and settled into one of the canvas folding chairs while she spoke. ¡°Language, along with supplemental orbs for civics, anthropology, and etiquette so that they could understand why to talk. Same thing we¡¯ve been trying without clear success with the asphalt creatures. Languages were spread across English, Chinese, and French, just in case their bodies had an easier time with one over another.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± James quietly looked out at the park, where a silent flock of chanters rested. He watched one of them coax a sprouted sapling upward, an inch of growth in seconds as something flowed through the air between the refugee creature and the plant. He felt the thrum in the air of shared emotion. But none of them said a word. ¡°But they don¡¯t talk.¡± Indira agreed with his unspoken comment. ¡°They are getting more comfortable with me, though! With us in general.¡± She corrected herself quickly. ¡°I think we¡¯re asking the wrong questions, but I don¡¯t know what the right ones are. And I¡¯m not used to actual magic being real, so I don¡¯t even know where to start.¡± James nodded. ¡°A lot of new people say that.¡± He said. ¡°Has anyone tried talking to their creations?¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know!¡± She sounded a little surprised. ¡°It might be a starting point.¡± James said with a nod. ¡°So, how often do chanters come by here? Like, this tent.¡± ¡°About ten or so a day.¡± She said. ¡°Usually in groups of five. They aren¡¯t just looking for the orbs, either. They stick around and try to communicate. It¡¯s just¡­ I don¡¯t know if human languages work for them. Or they could, but it¡¯s not how they¡¯ve lived their whole lives. It¡¯s not just knowing the language, it¡¯s like they don¡¯t feel it.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s also a guess, huh?¡± He wasn¡¯t trying to make the comment a challenge, but Indira gave him a sharp look to go with her nod. ¡°Huh. I¡¯ll ask Rufus later.¡± James said. ¡°He¡¯s similar in having an almost mental block when it comes to some forms of language. He might have insight.¡± He sighed. ¡°Alright. Thank you for the quick update. I kinda want to get closer with the chanters, but I don¡¯t wanna spook them. Is there a way to do that?¡± She didn¡¯t look quite happy about it, but did point out a series of park benches on the sidewalk around the green area. ¡°Sitting helps.¡± She said. ¡°Sometimes they¡¯ll approach. More often if you don¡¯t look too human.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James said, and waved goodbye as he ducked under the flap of the sunshade and slowly strolled over to sit. Sitting down, actually sitting down and not just positioning himself to talk to someone, was so abruptly restful that it felt like his legs planned to shut down entirely to get him to keep doing it. James let out a sigh that came from deep in his chest as he melted onto the uncomfortable and hostile design of the park bench, the cruel design of an unethical civic engineer not enough to deter him from feeling like he was actually resting. Ahead of him was a flourishing span of plant life. Tall grass dried out and pale brown, trees casting healthy zones of shade onto soft earth, creeping vines and broad ferns crawling up the sides of tents and what remained of a children¡¯s play structure adding a wild and untamed look to everything. And it wasn¡¯t just alive, it was occupied by the living. The chanters with their thick grey hide and liquid shimmering eyes and shells that covered their backs in ridges and spikes looked different from any person James had ever known. They also smelled different; a bit like burnt cinnamon. But they were still people. And they were here and alive and every other problem was secondary to that victory. He watched the patterns as the chanters moved around. The way they walked when they weren¡¯t running reminded him a lot of a horse showing off; tiny taps of their legs as they inched along. Always sticking in groups, but the groups changed every time they passed each other. Small circles of chanters that were exploring different parts of the part trading members even if it meant going back the way they¡¯d just come. James realized abruptly he was looking at patrol paths. He blinked as he tried to unsee it, but his brain had locked onto the idea. And once he saw it, it was hard not to trace it back to see what they were constantly orbiting. After about twenty minutes of sitting, someone from Recovery was passing by close enough for James to wave him down. ¡°Quick question. What¡¯s in that tent?¡± He tried to point without pointing, and the man he was talking to gave him a tight lipped look. ¡°That¡¯s where they keep their eggs.¡± He said simply, and James just nodded. The chanters were a lot of things. But they weren¡¯t stupid. Just new to everything. And they clearly had a priority that was above anything else. James wasn¡¯t offended that they didn¡¯t fully trust the Order; how in the world could they? They¡¯d been used as fucking livestock for as long as any of them had been alive. Trust would come slowly, if at all. It wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s place to demand or force it. They¡¯d earn it by proving they were worth it. It was that, or nothing at all. James took a deep breath of the warm air. The scent of spring in a place that hadn¡¯t had more than a few dozen cars or living humans in it for years filling his nose with a kind of quiet peace. This was a place that had died. But it didn¡¯t have to stay like that. He thought about how Indira had said they were sharing language orbs with the necroads, and his eyes flicked around to find the lines of entry where the streets were unbroken and the asphalt left clear paths into the cleared part space for any of them that wanted to show up. Not unguarded, not unattended, but there and open. This was a city that wouldn¡¯t stay dead forever. Maybe it¡¯d have more park space than before, given how the chanters seemed to prefer the outside over the reclaimed apartment spaces that Recovery had put a lot of work into. But maybe that would change when winter rolled around. But also maybe it wouldn¡¯t be so bad with more plant life. Different didn¡¯t mean bad, after all. He was interrupted by someone sprinting toward him, veering sharply to circle around the park and the line of chanters that had noticed the approach and absolutely snapped to attention. The blades of their legs pushed outward like they were trying to imitate porcupines braced to meet a charge. There was a spike of anxiety that wasn¡¯t wholly his own that flowed from the group that had seen the running human, and it didn¡¯t go away even as they kept distance from the chanters to approach James. The runner - James recognized the teenager as Brian, one of the kids looking to become a delver himself - panted wildly as he approached. ¡°Hey, no running here.¡± James kept his voice steady and calm as several sets of eyes tracked the human that was leaning next to him. ¡°It spooks them.¡± ¡°S-s-sorry.¡± Brian panted out. ¡°B-Ben says¡­ come¡­ back.¡± He gasped out words between heaving breaths, presenting a telepad to James. James took it with raised eyebrows. ¡°And he didn¡¯t call because¡­?¡± Then he winced and remembered that the first Camille he¡¯d known had explicitly knocked out every cell tower within about twenty miles through the high tech approach of ¡®kicking them over¡¯. ¡°Right, nevermind. Did he say why?¡± Brian just shook his head, still catching his breath. ¡°Alright.¡± James stood and stretched languidly. ¡°You sit here, and apologize for scaring all the chanters.¡± Brian made a confused noise, then looked up with a little panic as he saw all the shelled forms staring his way. ¡°They¡¯re not actually mad, and you can tell, which is cool. So you get to let them get to know you from a distance, while I go take care of this.¡± He looked down at the telepad and sighed, savoring the last bit of fresh air he might get today, depending on what Ben wanted. ¡°It¡¯s always something, huh?¡± Well, if nothing else, he¡¯d get to have his own adventure while Alanna, Zhu, and an Anesh were off on their long delve. Keeping busy was important to keeping his mind from getting too cluttered with anxiety. Nice simple tasks he could prioritize and make progress on were satisfying. James pulled the telepad, and vanished back into the Lair¡¯s planning area. Things didn¡¯t get any simpler. Chapter 262 ¡°Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.¡± -Neil Gaiman, Coraline- _____ James arrived directly in the Lair¡¯s front lobby and spooked the hell out of a youth group that he landed in the midst of. After getting free from the honestly pretty impressive reaction time of the camraconda, and learning that their six person pod of children had been told to stay put here by Sarah, James gave them a quick apology for shocking them and then hurried to get to where he¡¯d been summoned. ¡°Hey again Tino, Midnight, sorry, gotta slip through here.¡± He rapidly pushed his way through the swinging wooden gate that was about all the security the Order put on the stockpile of skill or species orbs they kept back here. ¡°Pardon. Scuse me.¡± He ducked through the middle of another duo who were moving too slow and started jogging once the high ceilinged room opened up. ¡°Hey, where¡¯s Ben?¡± He called out as he swept his gaze over the collection of desks and whiteboards that always had increasingly complex maps on them every time he came back here. Sometimes because he was the one adding to the maps. ¡°Ben! JP!¡± Then, quieter and to himself, ¡°Goddammit, the last time you assholes called me here we blew up at least two buildings. I don¡¯t wanna do this.¡± He steered toward the largest cluster of people, maybe ten or fifteen that James didn¡¯t really know milling around, and picked Sarah and Camille out of group. Sarah because she was his best friend and hard to miss in a crowd, and Camille because despite being weirdly short compared to everyone near her except Sarah - James had never noticed that Cam was maybe five foot six at most - she was still wearing plate armor. And even in the Lair, that was a fashion choice most people didn¡¯t go for. Usually the only crime against style James saw on a regular basis was Momo with the denim kimono that even she seemed to agree was uncomfortable. ¡°¡­sometime!¡± Sarah was saying, rocking on the balls of her feet in front of Camille as the armored woman steadily watched James approached and raised a hand his way. ¡°We can get to know each other!¡± ¡°I do not believe I have time for that.¡± Camille said in a stoically measured voice as James entered the range of their conversation. ¡°Ye¡­ ugh. Haaah. Deep breath.¡± James muttered as he took his advice and tried to force the lingering congestion out of his throat. ¡°Yes you do. You can have all the time you need. What does she need time for?¡± Sarah spun on the toes of one foot to face him brightly. ¡°Showing us around her new place, and letting us bring her gifts!¡± She told him. ¡°I wanna get to know Cam better, she seems cool, and like she needs it.¡± ¡°I do not.¡± Now Camille¡¯s voice sounded more like the embarrassed teenager that she actually was. Even if only briefly before being dragged back to something forced into a professional cage. ¡°And I can¡¯t get tethered in your power sharing web. That would make me unreliable as a combatant.¡± ¡°Nah, veto on that.¡± James said as he caught his breath. ¡°Your value isn¡¯t cause you can mace things. Also Sarah doesn¡¯t share relationsticks with just anyone shut up Sarah not right now.¡± He let his friend crack into a laugh as James kept going. ¡°She probably legit just wants to get to know you. And if you¡¯re willing, I¡¯d like to as well. But also, why are there a hundred people in here?¡± He asked both of them. ¡°Power sharing web!¡± Sarah said, holding up a book with a cover like black leather full of stars. Her voice turned serious, and James could see the droop behind her eyes as her attempt to keep the situation out faltered. ¡°We might have a problem, and if we¡¯re sending you in, you¡¯ll have a reasonable chunk of the avatar ritual behind you. More as more people show up.¡± ¡°Sir.¡± Camille said to him knowing damn well James didn¡¯t like that. ¡°Twenty minutes ago rogues tracking the loose Status Quo agents noticed them pulling out of their target area. Their search of the forest and farmland for any sign of the species you have designated ¡®chanters¡¯ has turned up nothing, and at first look it was thought to be them giving up.¡± ¡°But?¡± His own voice was professional now. Quick words and simple requests for information. Camille half-met his eyes as she reported. ¡°They¡¯ve covered almost no ground. They aren¡¯t leaving, they¡¯re changing tactics.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± ¡°Yes. It¡¯s¡­ familiar.¡± She said. James looked at her, and am empathic weight pulled the corners of his mouth down. Which was a terrible reaction to have because his lips were still cracked from his bout with whatever plague he¡¯d fought off, and the motion hurt like hell. ¡°Okay. You didn¡¯t call me here¡­¡± A voice interrupted. ¡°And us too.¡± Alex said as she approached with a camraconda James absolutely remembered seeing around, but couldn¡¯t place the name of. He remembered them because they were, like, eleven feet long and legitimately as tall as most humans even when half their body was on the floor. ¡°Hey. I¡¯m being dragged back in. Sorry, cut you off?¡± Trying not to smirk and finding it easy as he realized how this situation wasn¡¯t that funny, James continued, ¡°¡­because you think they¡¯re leaving. You think they¡¯re gonna do something drastic.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Camille said with a sharp nod. ¡°Okay. Where¡¯s JP, or Ben? I know Nate¡¯s on vacation, an astute teenager filled me in earlier.¡± ¡°Oh! How¡¯s Morgan doing?¡± Sarah perked up. ¡°Is he earning your fatherly approval?¡± ¡°¡­we¡¯ll talk about that later.¡± James shut the banter down. Camille didn¡¯t so much shut it down as she utterly flattened anyone else¡¯s attempt to speak. ¡°JP is on a delve. Ben is the agent in command, and is currently in communication with our field agents.¡± She took a minute pause as she steeled herself to ask something. ¡°I would like to be with you when-¡° ¡°Yeah.¡± James nodded. ¡°You¡¯re in.¡± ¡°¡­just like that?¡± The soldier and the confused girl swapped places again. He gave her a level stare. ¡°Are you good?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Even though they killed your sister? You can be a good knight? Not a soldier, not an azure, a knight of the Order of Endless Rooms?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means. But I will try.¡± James nodded once. ¡°Then you¡¯re in.¡± He looked over at Alex who gave a shrug and a nod to Cam, and then to the pale white cabled camraconda. ¡°Sorry, I know we¡¯ve met but I can¡¯t remember your name.¡± Looking a camraconda in the eye without having to tilt his head at all was a novel experience. ¡°Hello. Ink-And-Key. I would say it is nice to reacquaint ourselves, but given the circumstances¡­¡± They trailed off, and James was almost amused to find their androgynous digital voice was the first time he¡¯d heard a camraconda be in a rush to speak. ¡°Right. Alright, we¡¯ll do a team brief in a sec, I¡¯m gonna go find Ben.¡± He moved around Cam and past the crowd of people that were just kind of nervously waiting there, circling a small folding wall thing to find Ben sitting at a bank of computers on the other side, speaking into a phone as his eyes flicked between a dozen different views. ¡°Ben.¡± James said, getting the young mimic to look up at him without breaking off what he was saying. Despite his friend having called him here in a serious hurry, Ben didn¡¯t drop everything for James. ¡°Right.¡± He said into the call he was on. ¡°I¡¯ve got them moving. Tell Yin not to follow.¡± He set the smartphone on the desk and picked up another from a spread of four. ¡°Changes? Okay. Return to the Lair. Yeah. Yeah, I know. You can ask him yourself.¡± Ben dropped that phone, not ending any of the ongoing calls. ¡°James. Status Quo has-¡° Holding up a hand, James saved him a sentence. ¡°I got a quick brief from Cam. Give me details on what Squo¡¯s been up to in case I need context.¡± ¡°Falling apart, mostly.¡± Ben said. And then when James didn¡¯t look amused, he cleared his throat awkwardly and moved to explain. ¡°They started bleeding membership almost instantly after we hit them. We had a solid count of them at seventy people, with about half of them probably being field agents. And we killed twelve of them and severely wounded five more with the trap. After that, they called everyone they had to Yamhill to hunt down us, and the chanters.¡± Ben looked up at James. ¡°I know we give you updates, but I dunno if we¡¯ve had time to talk about the emotion behind it. They¡¯re so sure they¡¯re saving the world. Well, some of them.¡± ¡°Tough shit for them I guess.¡± James scowled as he watched the hijacked camera feeds on Ben¡¯s screens. ¡°I¡¯m sure lots of people doing a genocide thought they were the good guys. So what¡¯s their current count?¡± ¡°Twenty four.¡± Ben said. ¡°What?¡± James looked at him with raised eyebrows, leaning a clammy hand on the edge of the cool wooden desk. ¡°Out of seventy?¡± ¡°A lot of their support staff quit. Without the opportunity for ¡®advancement¡¯, they lost a few of the more psychopathic agents too. We think they also killed two people who were planning to defect.¡± James felt a pit in his stomach. ¡°To¡­ who?¡± ¡°Us.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± He whispered. Ben kept going. ¡°So right now there¡¯s twenty two people, including that one guy who¡¯s partly fireproof and who probably personally dislikes you for blowing him up.¡± James didn¡¯t bother saying that Nate had pulled the trigger on that one. ¡°They¡¯ve been doing sweeps of the area. Faked being federal agents, got the local cops to help them, a mix of going farm to farm and doing aerial sweeps. Since no one there knows who the fuck we are, and the chanters are eighteen hundred miles away, they¡¯re hitting a wall.¡± ¡°What do you think they¡¯re gonna do?¡± ¡°No idea. We¡¯ve gone through maybe a third of their documents. We know they have those second chance pills, we know-¡° ¡°Ben.¡± Ben looked back at James, confused, and then saw the unamused stare he was being given. ¡°Oh come on, someone told you.¡± James didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°Someone must have told you! It¡¯s been a week!¡± James folded his arms. ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit if you were on a nature hike, someone told you.¡± James gave a tiny shake of his head, and Ben slumped. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m sorry!¡± He admitted. ¡°They have a supply of pills that if taken undo a death if it happens within three minutes. No idea if they can make more. That¡¯s it. We also know they have a bunch of dungeontech programs, including a laptop with one on it that¡¯s containing an infomorph. They can open the containment in specific ways to weaponize it but it takes time.¡± ¡°Are we trying to rescue them?¡± ¡°Non-sentient. And given that their own documents don¡¯t lie about the intelligence of the chanters, I think we can trust that. Shoot any hardware of theirs you see on sight.¡± ¡°That¡­ would let it out Ben.¡± James said slowly. ¡°Planner¡¯ll be on standby. They¡¯re readying now.¡± Ben was back to giving information. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing. I don¡¯t know what they think they can do. There¡¯s at least four other dungeontech programs, our investigation team thinks one of them is what infects their prisoners and why we¡¯ve got people still recovering downstairs from that weird infomorph. One of them they say is a spell for making lunch, and one¡¯s for making music.¡± James sighed at how worrying those both sounded. ¡°I can think of like eight hundred ways dungeon magic that makes music could murder someone.¡± ¡°Okay, but not this one.¡± Ben insisted. ¡°It needs some kind of connection, or line of sight, and also dedicated ritual hardware. Think of it like our resistance programs. But they don¡¯t have that. They¡¯ve got accounting records that show investments in communications and aerospace companies but no actual results from that aside from making themselves rich. I don¡¯t know what they can do.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m here.¡± James nodded. ¡°You and a few others.¡± Ben said. ¡°Lot of knights on delves, vacations, or missions right now. So I take what I can. Because we don¡¯t pull people off Response without a damn good reason.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a little worried by that sentence, but yeah, Response doesn¡¯t need to be co-opted into this bullshit.¡± James snorted. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m gonna go check in with my team. You¡¯re keeping an eye on them?¡± ¡°I¡¯m keeping an eye on everyone.¡± James stopped with one hand on the little folding wall that cut Ben¡¯s area off from the main warehouse space. ¡°¡­I¡¯m not really sure I¡¯m comfortable with that.¡± He said quietly. ¡°Oh, I know.¡± Ben admitted readily. ¡°It¡¯s probably a terrible idea for us to have a surveillance apparatus this powerful, which is why it¡¯s sorta gross to think that we didn¡¯t build shit. It was already here. You guys did this before I was even made. Humans, I mean. Or Americans. Whatever. Put cameras on every intersection and every building and plugged them all into the internet and said the government probably wouldn¡¯t sneakily use them. You fucking idiots.¡± Ben wasn¡¯t even watching James as he kept his eyes fixed on a screen that changed as he flicked a few keys and cycled to a different view of a parked car. ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to address this, sooner rather than later.¡± James told him in a soft voice. It was clear this wasn¡¯t something he needed to yell about; Ben didn¡¯t exactly seem comforted by the situation. ¡°I know we should talk about it. I know no one likes the idea of being watched. I don¡¯t have a good answer for you, except that I¡¯m not judging anyone. I¡¯m probably not a great option for it, but I¡¯m not human, so maybe that¡¯ll be comforting. I just keep an eye on things, and call you when it matters.¡± Ben sucked in a short breath. ¡°We can talk about it later. Go get geared up, your stuff is here.¡± ¡°My¡­¡± James turned and saw a new group of arrivals. He glanced back at Ben once, cracked lips twisting as he resisted the urge to get into a long discussion on the value of having cameras everywhere. ¡°Sure.¡± He left the mimic and headed back toward where Sarah was still trying to make inroads to Camille¡¯s heart. Alex was in the process of strapping a heavy harness to Ink-And-Key, who was squirming against the girl¡¯s hands. The group of people who were Sarah¡¯s emotional connections had moved back away from the space they were using, having been asked to clear the area and taken the opportunity to find some chairs and get some snacks from the kitchen before everything started. A table had been dragged near where Alex and her camracdona friend were working, the new arrivals having stuck it there and spread out a selection of equipment. James sort of recognized half the new people. He¡¯d hired them after all. Members of the security teams that were being trained as a defensive force for the Order specifically first, and as anything else second. Four young men and one woman, already in matching body armor. ¡°Paladin.¡± One of them said as James approached. ¡°Hrrrgh.¡± He¡¯d been primed to think the guy was going to call him ¡®sir¡¯, but this was more like an actual title and James couldn¡¯t just stomp on it now that he¡¯d been caught off guard. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll accept that one. Now, why are you here?¡± ¡°To get you equipped, and to offer fire support.¡± The kid looked like he was barely old enough to drink, and yet he spoke like a soldier. ¡°This is shield team five, we¡¯ll be your backup. We were told you¡¯d brief us.¡± ¡°You¡¯re ready for that?¡± James asked before he could stop himself. ¡°Maybe.¡± The professional attitude slipped as the kid smiled. ¡°Training every day, running drills and scenarios, six months of physical conditioning, it¡¯s something else. Never been in an actual fight, but we won¡¯t let you down!¡± He was like a puppy. A very well armed puppy. James knew, in the abstract, that the point of sniping recruits who were headed to military service was that they were already okay with being soldiers, and the Order could just make them better soldiers, in many different ways. But it was still weird to see that bearing out. ¡°Okay. Magic? Also what¡¯s your names?¡± The kid cocked his head. ¡°Just the weird potions.¡± He said, and then pointed to himself and then the other four in turn. ¡°Skyler, Shen, Mikha, Rhoda, Raul.¡± The armored figures nodded at him with a mix of nervous and stiff motions. ¡°Nice to meet you all.¡± James said, glancing over at Sarah who looked like she¡¯d already not only gotten their names but a full biography for each of them, if her smile was anything to go by. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll brief you in a second after I talk to the others. We probably have some time before anything serious happens, so relax.¡± It didn¡¯t seem like any of them were likely to relax. James motioned Cam over as he joined Alex and Ink-And-Key. ¡°Okay. Why are you two here?¡± He asked Alex. ¡°I thought you were out of the knight business.¡± ¡°Dude you know I¡¯m super not. Not when people need me.¡± Alex laughed, covering her shaking hands as she strapped the backpack to Ink-And-Key. ¡°I¡¯m here to help.¡± ¡°And¡­ and I am here¡­ because I am paired with Sarah.¡± Ink-And-Key said with a vibrating anxiety. ¡°I know how I sound. It is a nervous tic, do not worry. I am a capable field agent and I will not falter and you will need a camraconda for this if you are going against people who are bulletproof.¡± James met the white snake¡¯s eye. ¡°You¡¯re going to be the biggest target on the field and that¡¯s counting Cam here.¡± He motioned to the armor plated girl. ¡°Oh, am I large? Thank you I hadn¡¯t noticed.¡± Ink-And-Key managed both nervous and sarcastic at once. ¡°I have thirty hours of avatar training, have blues slotted for move person, boil glass, sublimate wood, and create organizational chart, have two casts of pave ready, and am a passable shooter.¡± They barely paused as they spoke, not even hissing over their digital voice like some camracondas did. ¡°I¡®ve got blues for asphalt and move person too.¡± Alex spoke up. ¡°Old Squo items on, fireball gun ready.¡± She hoisted the portable artillery that was the bright yellow and blue nerf gun. ¡°Timing stat, some avatar practice but mostly I¡¯m a source for perception. Not bulletproof but a little harder to cut¡± Without being prompted, Camille spoke up. ¡°I am harder to injure but not bulletproof. My armor is resistant up to anti-armor ordinance. I have two Senses that allow me to know if something is a risk to a person of my choosing, and to derive the direction of a fortunate opportunity and know if there are complications in the way of it. I am trained as a squad¡¯s tactical information officer, though not a leader.¡± James thought about what exactly he had on him that was going to be relevant here. He really, really needed to get a list of his own character sheet and memorize it. He¡¯d been maybe a little too focused on a growing crush on Anesh back when his now-boyfriend had been making those first notes of their skill gains on a legal pad. ¡°Okay. About the same amount of avatar practice, manipulate asphalt, move person, and, like, two charges of separate alloy left. Bonded pistol, aim stat at two, endurance at three, energy and agility at one. Navigator who¡­ is not here. Fuck. Lots of practice fighting with extra limbs. I heal marginally faster than a human should. Oh, skulljacks?¡± ¡°Ayup.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°No.¡± Camille was the odd woman out. ¡°Want one?¡± James offered, and she froze long enough that he shook his head. ¡°No, bad time. Make the decision later. Earpiece and radio, here.¡± He grabbed the needed gear off the table and handed it over and she took it and set it up with practiced hands. ¡°Okay. So. Cam, Alex, Ink, and I are gonna be splitting and shifting a boost from everyone here, you get that, right?¡± She nodded. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll brief the new guys. Alex, get armored, Cam, help Ink-And-Key with¡­ herrrrrrs?¡± ¡°His.¡± ¡°His, sorry.¡± James had just sort of gotten used to the largest and most dangerous person in the room with him at any given time being Alanna, so Ink-And-Key being an absolutely titanic camraconda made him assume. He didn¡¯t say that though. The new guys looked at the four with a kind of anticipation as James moved back to them. ¡°Okay. Ben hasn¡¯t said anything yet so we¡¯ve got a little time. Squo agents are-¡° ¡°Squo?¡± One of them questioned in a light Chinese accent, and got smacked by his squadmate. ¡°Sorry!¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. Status Quo. We don¡¯t know their¡­ actually we might know their actual name but I don¡¯t care.¡± James had a list of people who he¡¯d put effort into getting the group name for correct. It was pretty broad, but these assholes weren¡¯t on it. ¡°So. Their agents are bulletproof. Your rifles are enough for non-critical hits, but they¡¯re durable if they¡¯re not wearing armor, just so you know. If one of them closes to melee with you, don¡¯t hit them or you¡¯ll get electrocuted. Actually, wait.¡± James closed his eyes and sent a message over his skulljack. ¡°Okay. We¡¯ve got some orbs in the armory for you, they¡¯re on the way.¡± He tried not to grin at one of the squad making a tiny fist pump. ¡°Your role is support and backup, got it? If we have to get into a fight, you go where Ben tells you and you suppress the shit out of these guys until we put them down. If Camille orders you to move, you listen to her.¡± ¡°Which one is Camille?¡± Skyler asked him. ¡°The scary one.¡± James answered as a joke, and then realized the question was serious. ¡°The girl your age wearing full plate.¡± He added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at where Cam was clipping flashbangs onto slots that seemed custom made for it in the thigh plates of her custom armor. ¡°Any questions?¡± ¡°What¡¯d these guys do, anyway?¡± One of them asked. James sighed. ¡°You remember when we brought the chanters through a month back? The shelled elephant turtlely guys? Status Quo is where they came from. They were breeding and harvesting them. And I know they might not look like it, but¡­¡° ¡°They¡¯re people?¡± The same guy asked. ¡°Alright. I won¡¯t feel bad about this then.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have felt bad anyway.¡± One of his squad mates jabbed at his ribs, which he ignored. ¡°Yes I would! I just don¡¯t have to now!¡± He sounded as indignant as an early twenties guy possibly could. James laughed, some tension draining. ¡°Okay, glad you understand.¡± ¡°Oh, Raul understands!¡± The shorter woman next to him ignored any attempts to shut her up. ¡°He¡¯s been trying to sleep with anything that isn¡¯t human ever since we got cleared to be here!¡± She yelped as the man next to her tried to put her in a headlock, in a move James found weirdly familiar and wholesome. He met Raul¡¯s eye. ¡°Successfully?¡± He asked casually. ¡°What? Er, sorry, what, sir?¡± ¡°No, nope. Paladin is okay, sir I draw the line at. And, you know, trying successfully?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no s- no, paladin.¡± Raul said, face a rich shade of red. James tsk¡¯d. ¡°Well, better luck next time.¡± He nodded to them. ¡°Anything else you need to know? I¡¯d give you more information, but we don¡¯t even know where we¡¯ll be engaging them if they try something horrible and stupid. Or if we¡¯re fighting today.¡± ¡°Is there a map of the area?¡± Skyler asked. ¡°Check with Ben.¡± James told him. ¡°Oh, and this might come up, but I hope it doesn¡¯t. If you have a choice, prioritize civilian lives over supporting us. Got it?¡± They looked like they had been trained explicitly by Nate to push back on that exact statement from James specifically. But the squad still nodded. ¡°Alright. Good. Get your map, and make sure you don¡¯t have to use the bathroom before we teleport.¡± He was shaking his head when he walked back over to his own team, where Sarah was back and asking Camille about books she liked. ¡°How¡¯s the kids?¡± Sarah asked him as he approached. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ okay, first off, they are adults. But yeah, wow, they feel young.¡± James rubbed at his face. ¡°They¡¯re fine. I guess. I¡¯m not actually a military leader, so I don¡¯t know how they¡¯re doing? I think they¡¯re doing the thing where they¡¯re acting eager to cover up being terrified.¡± ¡°You do that.¡± Alex pointed out. ¡°Hell, I do that. I¡¯m doing it right now!¡± ¡°Of course I do that.¡± James huffed out a laugh at her. ¡°Anyway. Now we wait.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a few people helping in the kitchen to make a little lunch buffet.¡± Sarah told him, and James wondered how she¡¯d managed that in the handful of minutes he¡¯d been maybe twenty feet away. ¡°Six more benefactors are coming in-¡° James stopped her as he did a little hop and planted his ass on a sturdy platform of one of the rogue¡¯s planning desks. ¡°Is that what we¡¯re going with for people who add to the relationstick thing?¡± He asked, and she gave him a nod that splashed her hair around like ribbons. ¡°You¡¯re not worried that¡¯s gonna end up being a proper noun kind of thing like with the pillars or something? Like we find out in five years that you named our helpers after some kind of weird alien overlords?¡± Ink-And-Key arched their body sideways until the top of their corded head was pointed at the ground and the camraconda was shaped like a question mark. ¡°Is that likely? Is that likely? Are there not enough nouns in your language? We could always use a different language, and I am very partial to the nouns in french.¡± ¡°None of what James said is ever going to¡­¡± Alex stopped as she patted Ink-And-Key on the back, and then sighed. ¡°Probably that won¡¯t happen. Things are weird these days, so maybe. Alien invasion feels like the natural follow up to 2020.¡± ¡°I was kinda imagining the aliens already here.¡± James shrugged. He trailed off, and the group waited quietly for a while. Then waited some more, the tension not fading. ¡°I really hate this part!¡± James announced, as it started to get to him. Camille gave him a tight smile that might have been her commiserating. ¡°You sound like a crimson.¡± She said, almost idly. ¡°¡­one of your sisters?¡± Sarah asked in a way that made it clear she wasn¡¯t pushing. Cam nodded, one hand adjusting a clipped grenade as she stood stiffly while the others sat or coiled on their tails. ¡°Combatants and hunters. I never spoke of them, did I?¡± James sighed. ¡°Honestly I think none of us wanted to make you feel like a prisoner.¡± He told her. ¡°If it came up, someone would have asked, but until then you can go at your own speed.¡± ¡°Ah, yes. The passive aggressive method of data collection.¡± Cam¡¯s voice was bitterly sarcastic, though it didn¡¯t actually seem aimed outward. ¡°Crimsons have the shortest expected lifespan, so they are the most loyal. Less time to question orders. If anyone is sent to track me down, it will be one of them that I will contend with. Very dangerous, very aggressive.¡± ¡°Good thing you¡¯ve got backup then.¡± James pointed out, and lightly pretended he missed Cam being shocked at the comment. ¡°Is this why you haven¡¯t been leaving the Lair?¡± ¡°Yes. I didn¡¯t want to cause problems. Or die.¡± Alex nodded as she stifled a yawn. ¡°One of those is a good goal!¡± James pursed his lips and exchanged a glance with Sarah before looking down from his perch on the desk at the younger woman who¡¯d stolen the nearest chair before he could get to it. ¡°Alex, have you been hanging out with Momo? Is that where this is coming from? Actually, hey, what have you been up to? It¡¯s been a while.¡± She traded her own look with the coiled camraconda. ¡°Filling in for you?¡± Alex asked slowly. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°What?¡± James held up a hand to signal a pause. ¡°Wait, sorry, before I forget; Cam, please don¡¯t die, and let us know if you need help. We really are here for you if you need it, even if you¡¯re still slowly being sublimated into the Order okay?¡± ¡°That does not sound reassuring, but I will remember.¡± ¡°Great. Now, Alex, what?¡± She laughed and shook her head as she folded her armored arms and answered. ¡°You¡¯ve been sick! So I¡¯ve been doing your job, kinda.¡± Leaning over, Sarah stage whispered through the middle of the group. ¡°James doesn¡¯t even know what his job is, kiddo. You need to specify!¡± ¡°You know, just¡­ stuff. Whatever.¡± Alex suddenly looked almost embarrassed. ¡°Uh¡­ doing work down in Townton on trying to talk to the less stabby necroads, delivering this week¡¯s load of cancer cure to our distribution group, going on a scavenger hunt for a belt¡­¡± James held up a hand. ¡°I don¡¯t do any of that.¡± He thought about it, then added a small correction. ¡°I sometimes do one of those things. But mostly that¡¯s not what I do. I just solve whatever problem is closest at hand at any given time and oh okay I see what you¡¯re saying.¡± Ink-And-Key leaned in to bump the flat top of his camera head onto Alex¡¯s arm. ¡°No one is going to ask about the belt. You said someone would ask, but they¡¯re just nodding like that¡¯s normal.¡± ¡°I assume Research lost something of phenomenal cosmic import.¡± James waved a hand. ¡°I trust Reed to do about four things, and holding onto main quest items isn¡¯t one of them. At least you didn¡¯t lose the crown again.¡± ¡°The crown!¡± The camraconda was suddenly animated, wriggling back and forth as he tried to express anguish. ¡°No one likes that thing! It is rude and it is obtuse and it is other mean words. Davis wants to break it to see what happens.¡± ¡°Fuck no!¡± Alex shoved at the long white noodle as Ink-And-Key thrashed into her. ¡°I love that thing! Did you guys know it makes humans make pheromones? That¡¯s so rad!¡± Sarah coughed lightly and raised a hand. ¡°Humans already sort of do that, just not in the same way as¡­ moths? It¡¯s not a mating behavior.¡± Then her eyes widened slightly and she put on a conspiratorial tone. ¡°Unless it is now?¡± Ink-And-Key didn¡¯t stop flailing as he answered. ¡°No, it mostly makes humans irresistible to moths. And ratroaches, for some reason. Though-¡° ¡°Jaaaaames.¡± Sarah waggled her eyebrows at him. ¡°No.¡± James pointed at her without looking. ¡°Please go on, Key.¡± ¡°-though the effect is limited to humans. Camracondas simply smell like cherries.¡± James tapped at his chin. ¡°You know, that¡¯s still kinda sexy.¡± He said. ¡°I mean, in the abstract. Like, if someone smelled like cherries, I¡¯d probably be more into them.¡± Briefly, he wondered if Sarah found this conversation useful. They didn¡¯t talk about it much, mostly because they were both constantly working on different things, but she did directly benefit from learning about mating habits. ¡°Do not sniff me!¡± Ink-And-Key abruptly recoiled from Alex who had found a new tactic to get her friend to stop thrashing into her. ¡°There¡¯s a guy over on our new shooty squad who¡¯d probably be into that too. He might be straight though. Or maybe that¡¯s me just making an unfair assumption.¡± James offered unhelpfully as Alex and Ink-And-Key intensified their bickering. Then Sarah had to leave to organize something and greet some new people, and James just ended up sitting there quietly. He didn¡¯t know what to say, exactly, he was just¡­ waiting. Cam left them sitting there to go check in with Ben. Sarah came back then left again. And James felt himself having trouble keeping focus. Time just drifted past him as he waited. Soon he was going to be called upon to fight. And for all that he joked about having done this before, he was still about to gamble with his life. James liked being alive; he certainly didn¡¯t want to be dead. The thought of it terrified him, the idea of being shot at again made his stomach roil, and not even knowing what weird plan Status Quo were enacting and he¡¯d be walking into added an extra layer of uncertainty. When Cam came back with an update and told them that the Status Quo agents seemed to be doing their own waiting on the outskirts of Yamhill, it didn¡¯t make things even better. It was like a Mexican standoff where one side didn¡¯t know they were participating. Hopefully didn¡¯t know anyway. The others moved between quiet and conversation as the minutes stretched on, but at a certain point James realized he had forgotten something important. ¡°Hey, I¡¯ll be right back.¡± He said, standing. ¡°Yell if we need to go.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Alex waved once. ¡°Don¡¯t start any other side quests.¡± ¡°No promises.¡± James laughed at the joke as he stepped away to a quiet distant corner of the warehouse and pulled out his cell phone to dial a familiar number. Anesh answered on the third loop of the ringtone. ¡°I¡¯m literally on the way now, you don¡¯t need to tell me you twat.¡± ¡°I mean, I feel like I should!¡± James defended himself with a sudden wave of relief. ¡°Alanna got mad at me last time, but she¡¯s in the dungeon now, so who am I supposed to tell I love them before I go march off to war?¡± His boyfriend was silent for a few seconds, until James realized that the grunts he was hearing were probably from Anesh trying to shove his shoes on. ¡°I don¡¯t know! Arrush? TQ? Zhu? One of six other copies of me?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t all have the same phone number?¡± James was puzzled enough that it further helped bury his tension. ¡°Also Arrush, TQ, and Zhu are all in Route Horizon with Alanna. And one of you actually. Holy shit, my whole harem is off without me having their own adventure.¡± James grumbled. Anesh¡¯s laugh was still worried, but the sound of it was familiar and comforting and it warmed James¡¯ heart. ¡°You told us not to use that word.¡± He reminded his boyfriend. ¡°But seriously, I¡¯m on my way.¡± From across the planning room, a lot of people were looking James¡¯ way. One of them, Ben, was frantically trying to get his attention. ¡°Yeah, I think you¡¯re out of time there.¡± James told Anesh with the most casual air he could muster. ¡°Hey, I do love you. Wish me luck.¡± He started striding back toward the group before he hung up. ¡°¡­good luck.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t sound happy at all. ¡°I love you too. Please be okay.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± James said with a forced smile, before he hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket and faced the mimic that kept throwing him into these problems. ¡°Ben. Tell me they went home.¡± ¡°They went home.¡± Ben probably lied. James was prepared to believe him though. ¡°Cool. Then I¡¯m gonna go relax.¡± ¡°No¡± Camille stepped up next to Ben, and her stare didn¡¯t look amused at all. ¡°They have left the area. After setting it on fire.¡± ¡°Setting what on fire?¡± James felt himself ask the question on reflex, while his brain was busy trying to figure out how to get Cam to stop talking like she was always giving a report. Even though she was currently giving a report. ¡°Wait, set what on fire? Where were they?¡± ¡°On the western side of town. And they set Yamhill on fire.¡± Camille said flatly. ¡°Before they split their forces and moved out, presumably to regroup somewhere else later. They are being tracked.¡± ¡°James¡­¡± Ben¡¯s voice was dry, and he swallowed heavily before continuing. ¡°We don¡¯t know what they did. But there¡¯s a thousand acre large wildfire currently in the process of getting out of control. A lot of buildings are on fire too, but it looks like the nearby farms are infernos.¡± He swallowed again. ¡°Response is¡­ evacuating people that they can, now.¡± James froze, eyes widening, one hand clenched into a fist. ¡°Oh, those monsters.¡± He whispered. ¡°They couldn¡¯t find the chanters, so they¡¯re just going to burn everything down and count kill notifications.¡± It seemed pretty obvious in retrospect, but nothing in their intel reports had shown Status Quo to be capable of fireballing a city. The only question now was, ¡°Where are they going?¡± He demanded. Camille answered with her report voice, in a way that James was half annoyed with and half grateful for. ¡°West. We believe they are splitting up and heading into forested areas that they suspect are harboring the chanters, to repeat the process.¡± James nodded, and looked around the silent warehouse to see that everyone had heard that. ¡°Ben.¡± He ordered in the firmest voice he could manage without screaming. ¡°Get me the most isolated group, and give us telepads for an ambush. Tell the rogues we¡¯ll be moving in.¡± Ben nodded and practically ran to get James what he¡¯d asked for, while James turned to the two strike teams that were both watching him. One of them practically normal humans, one of them knights with all the weirdness that entailed. He took a breath so deep it hurt his lungs. ¡°Slight change of plans.¡± James said. ¡°Our objective is to stop them from doing that again. If anyone wants to back out, now¡¯s the time.¡± They just stared at him. ¡°Please be safe.¡± Sarah whispered into the still air. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± James told her. ¡°But we need to prioritize stopping this, now.¡± He looked up as there was a wooden crash of Ben slamming into the edge of a desk as he ran back to them. ¡°Okay. Sarah, get our benefactors ready, everyone, potions and coffee now.¡± James reached out and plucked one of the two offered telepads from Ben. A quick ping across the skulljack network confirmed he was connected to his own team, and could slightly awkwardly radio their backup. ¡°How far out is this?¡± ¡°Two minutes.¡± Ben gasped. James slammed back a cup of warm coffee, and then took an offered yellow orb from Sarah, who was passing them out to people. Taking a deep breath, he focused on something he didn¡¯t do very often, and pulled on the concept of how he used his time, while pressing the orb lightly against his skin. A half second later, it slipped into him without protest. [+.3 Operational Hours : Comfortable] That was less than everyone else was saying. James didn¡¯t know what to thing about that, except that it was probably something Research had just forgotten to tell him again, and all he really needed was to be able to be his best for half an hour anyway. ¡°Okay.¡± James reached out and felt Alex and Camille¡¯s hands on his, while Ink-And-Key just placed his chin on the stack. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± He pulled the page and was in the woods. Well, not exactly. He was on the side of a pleasant forest road. Slightly damp pine needles underfoot and enough poison ivy behind him to murder a yak and the smell of vibrant green nature all around. It was nearly silent, except for the sound of a pop and five humans in body armor with rifles appearing on the other side of the road, exactly opposite the mile marker James was by. ¡°Spread out! Firing positions!¡± The security team¡¯s leader ordered his people, and they moved to create a crescent out of their lines of sight. ¡°Face east!¡± There was a bend in the road a thousand feet away, that James stood watching as he took another deep breath, feeling the reflex coffee thrumming in his fingers even as he smelled distant smoke. A digital notification told him that he was being called, and he accepted it, hearing a quiet ¡°Good luck¡± before Sarah started humming to him, and a starfield of connections opened up behind her that he could draw on. He¡¯d need to coordinate that with Alex and Ink-And-Key, but it would be enough. It had to be enough. He felt like he barely had seconds to prepare, as he pulled his gun and knelt among the trees with the others. Two minutes didn¡¯t feel like enough. And all too soon, a pair of vehicles came down the quiet road, a grey sedan and a black SUV rounding the bend and driving like they were in no particular hurry. ¡°Freeze the lead car.¡± James told Ink-And-Key, who signaled affirmative. ¡°In three. Two. One. Now.¡± Everything happened very quickly after that. Ink-And-Key couldn¡¯t fully stop the car. Not by himself. But there were camracondas in Sarah¡¯s relationstick network, and one of them could share ¡®gaze¡¯. Which meant Ink-And-Key fell into a state of calm as he did what he¡¯d practiced a hundred times, tapped into that link, pulled power in, and opened his eye on the lead vehicle. It stopped. And the one behind it, not expecting their friends to turn into an immobile obstacle, slammed into the sedan¡¯s trunk at sixty miles an hour. The SUV deflected, shrapnel flying out in a fan along with a detached wheel as the driver fought to keep control while sliding sideways and missing one of the four important parts of a car. Whoever it was almost got it, too, until James pushed something inside himself to a snap, and hit the undercarriage of the car with [Separate Alloy], sending two more wheels flying off along with ripping the SUV partially in half as matter rearranged itself. It landed on its side about the time two of the passengers in the sedan kicked their doors open and leapt out of the frozen car. Which was also when shield team five opened fire. They shot like they were trained to suppress targets, short bursts alternating who was pulling the trigger so that there was never a pause in the violence. Around them in the trees, a thousand birds fled the sudden noise of cracking guns, while one of the two humans who¡¯d tried to escape the car died. Suddenly and bloodily; they must not have been an agent, because they took a salvo of bullets to the chest and went down in a splatter of gore. The other one shrugged off enough hits to kill most living things and took cover behind the sedan, even as the shots kept coming. Two of the shooters switched to the SUV as someone crawled out of that wreck, forcing them back into the overturned vehicle for cover. Alex, James, and Camille sprinted down the side of the road, over the edge of the forested slope but still finding the footing for speed as they rushed where the cars were while staying mostly out of sight. When they got closer, James and Alex held back while Camille rushed ahead, keeping his gun up and looking for any targets. He saw one in the drive of the sedan, who had been dazed but looked otherwise okay. James triggered the burst fire on his bracelet and started hammering bullets through the passenger window, and was mildly surprised to see his target jerk with a grotesque splatter of blood before slumping sideways. ¡°Ink! Let the car go!¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The camraconda¡¯s digital voice sounded horrified, but he did as ordered and suddenly the sedan had all its momentum back. It peeled away before skidding sideways and crashing into an ancient tree that had withstood far more damage than one petty human car could put out. It also left the man taking cover behind it and in the middle of trying to get a weapon out of the trunk abandoned, and taking fire from the shield team. When someone started shooting back at James, triggering his shield bracers twice as bullets came near his position, Alex zeroed in on the SUV and fireballed it with the nerf gun. She didn¡¯t go nuts with it, just hit it with repeat shots of overheated plasma until she had to reload with the bound bracelet and there was nothing moving that wasn¡¯t on fire and the smell of cooking meat and plastic. The last agent standing in the middle of the road reacted with admirable poise given what was happening. Left without cover and under fire, he still twisted to run for the treeline, one hand taking pistol shots at the concealed positions of the people firing at him while the other hand drew a short knife. James registered someone on their radio calling out being hit before Ink-And-Key froze the man mid stride. Then Camille reached him, and struck him in the chest with her mace. The weapon caved in his body, and as the camraconda let go of the pulverized form, sent him skidding across the asphalt with a smear of blood. ¡°Clear.¡± Camille¡¯s voice was like a harsh burst of static in James¡¯ ear, covering up the sound of Sarah¡¯s humming. ¡°Clear.¡± The shield team reported in. ¡°Shen¡¯s hit.¡± ¡°Clear.¡± Alex and James said at once as they failed to spot anything moving amid the wreckage. James wanted to vomit. This hadn¡¯t been a fight, this had been an execution. But he had to keep it together; they had more to do. ¡°Sarah, we¡¯re good. Ben, mark¡­ six Status Quo operatives as killed. We¡¯re teleporting back, have the next point ready for us.¡± ¡°¡­okay.¡± The voice sounded tiny in James¡¯ ear. Two telepad uses were spent to move the two groups back to the Lair. Time felt wrong as James got his bearings in the planning room; like things were moving too fast and he was moving too slow, both at the same time. He registered one of their teammates being taken away to have a bullet dug out of his stomach where an unlucky shot had gotten through the armor, and he had an oddly detached intellectual curiosity about Ink-And-Key puking his lunch all over the floor as he realized that camracondas actually could do that. But everything felt so far away; even the sensations on his own skin. ¡°Second ambush point. Five minutes to contact, they haven¡¯t reacted to the first strike.¡± Ben handed him another telepad, the mimic¡¯s voice shaking. ¡°Kay.¡± James muttered as he nodded. ¡°Everyone ready?¡± ¡°No.¡± Alex said as she spun the nerf gun¡¯s chamber to make sure it was loaded. ¡°Key? You wanna sit this one out?¡± The pale white camraconda looked up from where he¡¯d braced himself against a desk with the armament pack he was wearing. ¡°I can do this.¡± The camraconda lied to himself as he hyperventilated. ¡°And even if I can¡¯t¡­ no, I am the one who has practiced this. I can do this.¡± The second ambush went much the same way as the first. Their backup reloaded between teleports, and then got into position with time to spare. There was only a small scare when a battered and rusted pickup truck passed their position, and the driver definitely saw them all and looked like he really wanted to stop and ask what the fuck they were doing. But nothing came of it, and all too soon, their targets came into view. An augmented camraconda¡¯s stare stopped the front car. Bullets rained down like the world¡¯s most deadly hail, and whenever an agent shrugged them off and tried to fight back, they¡¯d meet either a fireball or a mace that ended their lives rapidly. One of them actually managed to dodge both of those, but got caught out by James pulling hard though his connection to Sarah; turning the dodge of Cam¡¯s strike into a trip, then flattening the agent into the gravel on the side of the road and stabbing them through the chest until they stopped moving. Then doing it again when their death was reversed and they tried to get up. They arrived back in the Lair with James feeling just as far from reality as before. His hands stung. So did his neck. The agent had taken advantage of a mistimed approach and a blocked camraconda angle to hit him in the side of the throat with a strike so fast it had blurred. Something had crunched inside him when it hit, but James didn¡¯t feel anything but a mild ache, so it was probably fine. He took a minute to wash his hands in the Lair¡¯s upstairs bathroom, and felt a dizzy sense of confusion as he realized there were still normal people having a normal day here while he sortied out to kill monsters. The simple act of washing his hands felt so normal. Cleaning the splinters and bits of dirt and blood off to reveal scratches from where he¡¯d planted his hands on the asphalt, it was all so mundane. When James had been in college, he¡¯d worked in a restaurant for some extra money. And one of the things he¡¯d always hated was having to go in and out of the walk-in for stuff. Sometimes, if it was a really hot day, then it was a relief to take a minute searching for cheese or something. But having to constantly go back and forth between hot and cold was almost a form of torture. And now here he was going back and forth between violence and normalcy. Swallowing hard and staring into the elaborately decorated mirror that the Lair¡¯s bathroom had for some reason, he took the guilt and disgust inside of his thoughts, and did his best to obliterate it. The people he was shooting weren¡¯t some helpless innocents. They were violent, genocidal, human-supremacists. They were currently actively trying to burn down his state. If Status Quo had known his home address, James was positive they wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to try to kill him and his family in his living room and paid special attention to the dog and the iLipede while doing so. He still felt wretched. You couldn¡¯t just will away your humanity like that. A part of James was always going to be repulsed by the thought of killing people. But really, that was for the best. And though he still wasn¡¯t feeling at the top of his game when he walked back into the planning room and took the third telepad to a deserted point on a logging road in the middle of nowhere, he did his best to project a collected confidence for the others. ¡°Ready?¡± James asked as he held his hand out, the shield team having already gone ahead. ¡°Ready. ¡° Alex looked like she¡¯d gone through a similar mental process to him. Next to her, Camille just nodded, far too comfortable with this kind of work. ¡°No. Please do it fast so I don¡¯t need to think about it.¡± Ink-And-Key shivered, the camraconda¡¯s eleven foot length practically twitching in anxiety as he tried to steel himself for the last fight. James pulled the telepad, looking up at the last second to see Sarah shooting him a nervous thumbs up. Then he was staring into an acre that had been clearcut and was only just starting to regrow, bounded by the trunks of trees that had survived by luck alone. Their rifle backup, who had been far more important than James had expected against the normally bullet resistant Status Quo, were already set up, facing down the road in the proper direction that their last targets would be coming from. There was no way they wouldn¡¯t be ready for them this time. They had to know by now that fifteen of their number had been wiped out. There were, if Ben¡¯s count was right, nine people left in this branch of Status Quo. And while James was glad that they¡¯d attritioned members without violence after their operation had been shattered, he was fully expecting them to try to fight to the last. His phone call went through, Sarah picking up just like the last two times almost right away. But this time, instead of soft humming shared across the skulljack tactical network, James got a rapid burst of words from his friends. ¡°James, someone just tried to dive out of the Squo cars. Half a mile down the road, they¡¯re running from their own people.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± He said, a cold calculation trying to take place in his head but getting outpaced by a hot rush of impulse. ¡°Start singing. Alex, take the new guys and catch up. Cam, with me.¡± James didn¡¯t know if this was smart. Didn¡¯t actually know how fast he could clear a half a mile, or what he¡¯d do when he got there, didn¡¯t know if he¡¯d be in time to save whoever it was. But while he had minimal sympathy for people who stuck with Status Quo just because of a fear to disobey, he already knew that if someone was willing to throw themselves out of a car to get away, then they¡¯d made their choice. And it put them on his side of the line, made them someone he was planning to protect. Sarah¡¯s voice, musical and light despite the circumstances, opened up a constellation of options. And James tugged on all of them. Even Alex and Ink-And-Key, even Anesh, who must have made it to the Lair and was waiting there for him. Poise, grace, balance, speed, dexterity, pace, tempo, whatever words were used and whatever changes were actually made to his body, James pulled them in and made them a part of himself. Mixed them with dozens of purple orbs and a bit of a Sewer lesson and probably some other magic he¡¯d forgotten by now. A flash of Velocity magic traded some of the extra strength in his bones for even more speed; if he¡¯d been in a car he could have sped that up, but being on foot it just made him feel electric as he ran, flinging him forward faster and faster. It felt like his foot should have cratered the cracked asphalt as he took his first step, going from a crouch to a sprint in a burst of motion. But James had only a fraction of a second to consider that his life wasn¡¯t an anime before he picked up speed. This wasn¡¯t like jogging with Alanna. This wasn¡¯t even like running for his life in a dungeon. This was something else. Putting everything he had into moving, as fast as possible, in a straight line. The road sloped but didn¡¯t curve, and so James could see the approaching point where the cars had stopped and a trio of people with guns were firing into the trees on the side. One of the cars looked like it had crashed into a rock while two others were idling in the middle of the road. Every footfall ate up thirty feet of distance. He was moving twenty, thirty miles an hour, maybe more. Slow by car speed, absurd for a human on foot. Almost flying, barely keeping control of his own limbs and their contact with the road. How fast, he didn¡¯t know, but fast enough that he was sure that touching the pavement with anything that wasn¡¯t his feet would be painful at best. James pulled harder on the links through Sarah, pushed himself faster, and moved to close the gap. He wasn¡¯t a car, he might not even be spotted until he was too close, and he banked on that as he angled toward the edge of the road, bits of gravel and pine needles spraying behind him as he aimed for where one of the agents was standing over a downed figure with their pistol raised like they were planning an execution. James really, really, really hoped Camille had kept up. The wind of his own making stung his face as he gave one last shove against the asphalt, pushing himself forward with an impossibly well coordinated use of [Manipulate Asphalt], manipulating his trajectory ever so slightly, and slamming into the agent who only realized James was both there and headed his direction at the last second. A gun came up to face him, a shot barked and went so wide his shield bracer didn¡¯t even notice. James saw the man¡¯s eyes widen just before his hand met the agent¡¯s face. And then, unloading the electrical discharge that he produced, James felt his magically weakened shoulder bones pop and crack as he carried the man off his feet and slammed the back of his head into the rough black surface of the road. And held it there with his full weight as they kept moving for another hundred feet. The agent made a muffled scream against James¡¯ palm, the sensation almost tickling, until the friction of being dragged across the road shattered his skull and he abruptly went limp and didn¡¯t make any noise at all. As much as he hated them, James gave due respect to the other agents who didn¡¯t hesitate to start firing at him even while he was still busy turning their friend into a long dark wet streak on the pavement. A lot of their shots went wide, but some were close enough that bullets pinged off shield bracer panes, and dropped the already low count of charges even closer to zero. Bolting for the cover on the side of the road amid the vegetation, James threw a wave of [Separate Alloy] at them. His last one, just vaguely projected in their direction like a cloud. It worked somewhat, peeling back their handguns along with their belt buckles, but it didn¡¯t exactly stop them from acting. One of them ran for one of the cars, probably to retrieve a larger weapon, while three more men leapt out of the van from different doors. James ordered the road to stab one of them through the groin with [Manipulate Asphalt], but the agent actually dodged the attack, and James didn¡¯t want to keep spamming magic that gave him a migraine. Though he was feeling pretty good right now, all things considered. The thrum of ability and strength coming through Sarah¡¯s link, even limited like this, bolstered him and kept him going even as heavy machine gun fire started cutting the branches down ahead of him. He threw himself to the ground and started crawling through what he was absolutely sure was poison ivy, his arm screaming in protest as he circled away from where they were trying to kill him and closer to their flank. ¡°Hold fire!¡± A man¡¯s voice barked. Even after the roar of gunfire, it was familiar to James; he¡¯d blown this guy up at least once by now. ¡°Keller, McAinsly, check for a body. Murgot, go make sure our traitor is dead.¡± James poked his head out of the mass of sticks and vines that was sheltering him, and took in the battlefield. Two cars, one lane over. Two men standing near the rear car, one of them with the machine gun that absolutely would kill him if he got shot with it, the other probably the boss. Two more men approaching where James had dived off the road. One more going back for the turncoat. He didn¡¯t see Camille anywhere. Which wasn¡¯t exactly worrying; Camille was probably at her most dangerous when unobserved. Still, James had to act quick. First things first, figuring out who was bulletproof. His Aim gave him the perfect position to put his hand in when he pulled the trigger to put burst fire shots from his Walther onto all five of the agents in rapid order. Two of them dodged, two of them ignored being shot entirely aside from looking like they¡¯d been lightly slapped, and one of them went down with a wet choking gurgle as he pulled at the holes in his chest like he could somehow undo the damage James had just inflicted. James turned and ran back into the forest as bullets chased him down, a lot of them finding his shields after the first one grazed it and lit up his position. Eventually he felt like he¡¯d gotten far enough away that he could press himself around a tree and start to edge back to try again on the two who¡¯d dodged - the most likely vulnerable targets - but as he slipped around his cover, James came face to face with a scarred man holding an axe that looked really pissed at him. James shot him. It didn¡¯t do anything, and then he had to fight for his life as the agent hooked his leg with the blade, punching into his calf as he yanked James off balance. James countered by flinging the knife on his belt at the man¡¯s face, forcing a jerk backward, and as he sprawled to the loamy forest floor, James rolled away. Blood trailed from his injury as his opponent pressed the advantage and tried to hack him in half while he was down. Then James remembered how strong he could be, in that moment, and tugged on everyone supporting him for a boost. He caught the axe blade in one hand from a supine position, fingers clamping down on it and arresting the strike before it could cleave into his palm. With his good leg, he kicked into the agent¡¯s knee and was rewarded with a pulpy snap as something broke. The man made the critical mistake of letting go of the axe, and James flipped it nimbly into his good hand before burying it in the agent¡¯s gut with a backhanded swipe. He scrambled to his feet and shot the man in the head twice just to be sure, but that still didn¡¯t do anything. Except maybe give away his position. Gunshots sounded behind him, and James screamed as one of them hit in him the back. He was armored, but his bracer charges had run out, and the shot pushed him into panic as he toppled forward onto the man who was bleeding out in front of him. Scrambling against the dying grasp of the enemy agent, James turned amid the pine needles just in time to see a silhouette raise a weapon at him, right before Camille hit them in the head with her mace with a noise like someone detonating a jar of mayonnaise. A series of detonations from the road announced what she¡¯d done with the flashbangs that she¡¯d brought along, buying them a few seconds as she offered James a hand up. He took it, feeling a bit dwarfed by the heavy gauntlet she was wearing, and tried not to howl in pain as he remembered that he¡¯d probably dislocated his shoulder. He¡¯d barely gotten his bearings when a thunderous roar of gunfire started again, the last agent with the machine gun bracing it on the hood of one of the cars and raking it back and forth over the area where they¡¯d gone into the trees. James flicked his left hand out, a needless but dramatic gesture as he pulled the road up in a wall between them and caught a half dozen bullets before the layer of asphalt got punched through and broke away. The reaction was still fast enough to keep them from getting shot, and bought Cam time to bolt away again, circling the cars and flinging her mace overhand at the last agent. And then it was quiet. Mostly. There was still a ringing in James¡¯ ears, along with a rushing sound like a series of heavy thuds that he realized was his own heartbeat in an adrenaline fueled frenzy. The fight had barely been a few minutes long. Everything was over by the time the shield team caught up to them, and it was longer still before Alex and Ink-And-Key arrived; they¡¯d had to hunker down when James started using them as batteries. He realized he was still holding on to the borrowed power, despite hearing Sarah¡¯s voice starting to get a little hoarse over their connection. James tried to tell her it was okay to stop, but couldn¡¯t form the words. So he slowly let go of his grip, pushing everything back to who it belonged to in a way that left him feeling like a raw nerve. ¡°This guy¡¯s alive! Raul, medic!¡± Someone yelled. ¡°We¡¯ve got bodies in this car!¡± Another of the young support team yelled out. James looked up, his vision swimming. That was probably weird, but he couldn¡¯t place why. He did need to let someone know things were secure here though. ¡°Ben.¡± He roughly croaked out. ¡°You there?¡± ¡°Yeah man, I¡¯m here.¡± Ben¡¯s voice was soft and concerned. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°Oh. No.¡± James laughed at the absurdity of that question. ¡°Not even a little. Uh¡­ there¡¯s¡­¡± he counted off bodies. Three in the car, for some reason, one he¡¯d pancaked, one more in the woods. Camille accounted for another three. And then the last guy here with the machine gun that Alex was unloading. ¡°Nine dead. And one other guy who¡¯s¡­ well, still alive.¡± ¡°Ten. That¡¯s it then.¡± Ben said with a note of finality. ¡°Let¡¯s get you back here, and you can do nothing for a while, okay? That¡¯s it. They¡¯re gone. All that¡¯s left is unfucking as much as we can.¡± ¡°Right.¡± James nodded to no one in particular as he watched Alex gently coax a laptop away from the bleeding Status Quo staffer who was sitting on the side of the road. ¡°Yeah. Cause¡­ the fire.¡± ¡°Not your job.¡± Ben told him. ¡°Come back. I¡¯ve got rogues moving in to deal with the mess before the police arrive. Not that we don¡¯t have time; they¡¯re a bit busy.¡± ¡°Right.¡± James muttered, taking stifled breaths of the fresh air that smelled too peaceful and fresh for a place that was painted in blood and the lingering hint of gunfire. ¡°Hey. You okay?¡± He asked Camille, who was standing next to him and running a gauntleted finger across a number of holes in the breast of her plate mail. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± She looked at him with eyes that were far too young for this kind of work. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t feel hurt.¡± She poked one of the holes again. ¡°This one didn¡¯t penetrate.¡± ¡°Good.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°Get the others. We¡¯re out of here. Hot to cold and back again. Suddenly, the violence was done. There was no one left to shoot, and no one left to be a threat. Now, and only now as they blinked back to the Lair with one wounded half-captive-half-rescue in tow, did James take the time to be angry. He¡¯d been a lot of things while he was fighting, but he didn¡¯t let himself be angry. Now, though? Literally all the remnants of Status Quo had to do was go live their lives. Not even without magic, just without murdering, without hunting innocent people, without setting towns on fire. And they couldn¡¯t even manage that. And James couldn¡¯t help but imagine a world where he wasn¡¯t quite as strong, or where they were on the wrong side of the ambush, where these complete and utter bastards would have gotten away with everything. He took a deep breath of the filtered air of the Lair. Looked at the faces of the people who were filtering out of the planning room, looked at Sarah waiting to approach him, looked at Anesh rushing forward to wrap him in a terrified hug that was certainly going to be painful. Looked at the people who wouldn¡¯t have to keep looking over their shoulders anymore. Letting go of his anger wasn¡¯t too hard. Letting go of his frustration was harder. But afterward, all James felt for the moment was empty, and like his arm hurt as Anesh crushed him. ¡°Oh, uh¡­ ow.¡± He said lightly, causing his boyfriend to recoil. ¡°Yeah, sorry, that¡¯s¡­ my bad. Didn¡¯t talk fast enough.¡± ¡°Okay, downstairs, now.¡± Anesh told him forcefully. ¡°For a bath, right?¡± James asked, trying to pour some humor back into his day. Anesh just glared at him and started tugging him into motion, pulling his armored boyfriend toward the door. ¡°Anesh? For the bath, right?¡± James felt the smile on his face, faked before, turn genuine as Anesh grumbled and muttered his way through shoving James through a crowd toward the elevator. Alex, wavering on her feet, crossed paths with them before they left. ¡°Hey. Uh¡­ are you doing okay?¡± ¡°No.¡± James admitted. ¡°Also your camraconda friend doesn¡¯t look good either.¡± He thought for a second. ¡°Not to make a habit of this, but, meet you at the baths?¡± ¡°No, James, we¡¯re getting your shoulder relocated.¡± Anesh informed him bluntly. ¡°And you¡¯re bleeding on the floor. Oh, bloody hell, that¡¯s a lot of red.¡± James nodded. ¡°Right, after that.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Alex exhaled, hands trembling. ¡°After that. Okay. Sounds good.¡± She tried waving and ended up just making a flailing gesture as she went back to grab Ink-And-Key, and maybe also Camille. This was, James realized, going to be the messiest clean win that he¡¯d ever had. But at least Anesh was here. He was pretty sure he fell asleep in the elevator ride. But his partner got him where he needed to go. Chapter 263 ¡°The mission is what the mission becomes.¡± -Will Harper, Young Justice- _____ Calming down took James some effort. And really, to say he was calm at all wasn¡¯t even close to true. He was just drained, he¡¯d overextended on everything, borrowed against his magic way too hard, and all that was left now was a version of him that didn¡¯t really have the capacity to feel much of anything for a while. He¡¯d let Anesh half-carry him to the hospital space, drifting in and out of a daze while he swore to himself that he was going to make whatever arcane construction team they had around here install orange totem shortcuts to their ER. He¡¯d sat and let the new hire physician check him over, the man bluntly telling him that he¡¯d messed up his neck quite badly but that there wasn¡¯t a fix for it, and then continuing to inform James that his shoulder wasn¡¯t dislocated, just fractured. Which meant that James had run out of get-out-of-broken-bone-free orb power for the month, or year. Or both. The problem with those was the Order still didn¡¯t have a fucking clue when they actually refreshed, and testing was both tenuous and slightly unethical, so they just went with the worst-case scenario. James wasn¡¯t to get into any fights for another month. He wasn¡¯t going to follow that advice, but it was nice that the doctor cared. It was less nice to have Anesh help him strip off his armor, and find that the bullet that had struck him in the back hadn¡¯t deflected at all. Instead, it had tunneled a neat hole through his Kevlar like the armor wasn¡¯t even there, and then kept traveling into his flesh until it was nestled against the back of his lung. ¡°Oh. So tha¡¯s why breathy hurts.¡± James wheezed to distract himself as a camraconda rushed a cart of tools in and helped the doctor start digging around inside his body. ¡°Shut up. Please.¡± Anesh told him, holding James¡¯ hand in a grip that threatened to test if his bone security was back. ¡°Just¡­ James shut up.¡± His voice was as pained as he watched a pair of tweezers pull a deformed projectile out of his boyfriend. At least there was no need for stitches. The camraconda nurse leaned in close and whispered direction to an authority, the green neckline of the serpent form scrubs she was wearing detaching to coil around the puncture wound and pull flesh closed. Anesh watched with morbid fascination as skin stretched and pulled together, bleeding stopped, and all that was left of the injury was a bright white scar. They were informed that the repair was not good enough for strenuous activity, but that it would heal naturally over time. Exercise potions would, for some reason, stall the healing process for nerve damage and serious trauma, so avoid those. Anesh promised to keep an eye on his boyfriend, and make sure he didn¡¯t drink anything weird, and then helped James up. And then helped James back down when he kept bleeding on the floor. The gash on his leg did get stitches, no medical authority having the power right now to seal up another wound. He was told repeatedly that he was lucky it hadn¡¯t hit a major artery, but James felt lightheaded enough and was bleeding in quantities that made him question that. He was given orange juice, and a blood infusion from a Climb spell that left him shivering for a few minutes. After that, James was starting to feel a little more alert, so as Anesh tried to convince him to head home, he instead derailed them to his favorite part of the basement, and made good on his promise to meet the others at the baths. He didn¡¯t know how long he¡¯d been subjected to medical attention, but just having a young authority work on him felt like it had take half an hour of sitting still. Fortunately, they weren¡¯t too late to the party. Alex and Ink-And-Key had claimed a pool, and were floating next to each other seeming to stare listlessly at the trio of pouring lines of water that fell to the center of the bath. Camille was sitting cross legged on the outside, still armored, while Sarah was headed their way wrapped in a towel. She waved at James and Anesh, her face masked with concern, but James just waved back and tilted his head toward the others. He was already shirtless, having abandoned his gear in the hospital space to be picked up and either stowed in the armory or burned. But after heading to the changing area, he let Anesh help him out of his pants in the least sexy undressing he¡¯d ever had, and then walked alongside his grumbling boyfriend as they went over to their claimed spot. The semi public bath that an ambitious member of the Order had put together as his first project, and then continued expanding on, was still something that felt magical to James. Not the kind of magic that translated to power, but the kind that evoked wonder. Dancing lights, copper and wood everywhere, pouring clear water from overhead showers, the kind of weird mural of Rufus on the wall. It was weird, but also cool, and other people seemed to agree, since as everyone did get used to the practice, it had become more common to find unexpected figures down here. Which was highlighted when a buzzing squawk shot in James¡¯ direction announced Banana¡¯s presence. He waved at the girl with the best smile he could muster, and got an indignant look from the woman that was helping the crow wasp wash her feathers, who had just gotten absolutely covered in bits of flung shampoo. ¡°Be careful.¡± Anesh still sounded like he was in the middle of an anxiety attack as he helped James ease down into the water next to where Cam was sitting on the edge. ¡°I¡¯m fine, don¡¯t¡­¡± James had been about to tell his boyfriend not to worry, but he almost laughed at how dumb that sounded. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He reiterated. Alex dragged her stare away from the waterfall and over to where James was settling onto one of the stone shelves that they used for seating, seeming to almost look through him. ¡°How are you fine?¡± She asked in a dead voice. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not.¡± James told her. ¡°I¡¯m lying to Anesh so he¡¯ll stop yanking on my arm.¡± One of his arms was in a sling, so he couldn¡¯t successfully bat Anesh away. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not.¡± James trailed off. ¡°Right.¡± Alex sighed. ¡°Sorry.¡± Sarah, floating on the side of the pool, flipped herself upright and looked at both of them. ¡°What do you two need?¡± She asked. ¡°Or, three, since¡­ Ink-And-Key, are you alright?¡± The camraconda shook his head, a stuttering hiss coming out of his mouth. ¡°Yeah, what do you need right now? I don¡¯t think anyone is doing alright, but what can we do to help?¡± The words got an actual laugh from James. And after a second, Alex added a manic giggle to the melody. ¡°Oh, wow.¡± He said as he took what felt like his first real breath of air in an hour. ¡°I have no idea.¡± Ink-And-Key¡¯s hiss suddenly turned into a tiny scream before the camraconda dunked his head under the water. The noise actually got a startled jump out of Cam, who had seemed to be calmly observing without any worries. ¡°Yeah, what he said.¡± James added, feeling himself come back to life bit by bit. ¡°I love you,¡± Anesh still sounded awkward saying it out loud in front of other people, but James felt his heart swell at the words anyway, ¡°but you¡¯re going to be so traumatized, and we¡¯re all worried about you. Hell, I¡¯m worried about everyone. What happened? I barely caught the end of it.¡± Alex held up a hand in a futile attempt to block Ink-And-Key¡¯s splashing surfacing. ¡°We were¡­ what were we even supposed to be doing, man?¡± She looked at James like a woman desperate for an easy answer. ¡°Ben wanted people on standby in case Status Quo did something stupid.¡± James said. ¡°Right. Right. Yeah. Hey, question?¡± Alex raised a shaking hand from the warm water, droplets streaming down her skin in the comforting light of the bathhouse. ¡°Why did we let them live in the first place?¡± It was a question James had been trying to figure out himself today. He was about to answer without actually completing a thought, and probably say something stupid, when Sarah cut in. ¡°Because we were giving them a second chance.¡± The words sounded so simple coming from her. But not naive, not silly. Just calm confidence in the Order¡¯s operating principle. ¡°And it was working, too. They lost a lot of their members when we¡­ you know¡­ took the chanters away.¡± ¡°Well, ¡®working¡¯.¡± Anesh grumbled, submerging himself until his mouth was barely out of the water. ¡°They were fine with the farming right up until they couldn¡¯t anymore.¡± James sighed. ¡°Sarah¡¯s right.¡± He admitted. ¡°We can¡¯t¡­ we should not solve every problem by killing. Same reason we don¡¯t assassinate people we don¡¯t like with the telepads. There¡¯s a difference between clear defense and murder.¡± He rubbed his free hand along his leg under the water, feeling a dull throbbing pain from where he¡¯d scraped the shit out of it on the pavement. ¡°This was defense, though. Not for us, this time, but for¡­ everyone caught in the crossfire.¡± Ink-And-Key hissed again, and James nodded at the giant camraconda. ¡°Yeah, exactly.¡± He said, pretending he knew what was being said and getting an unamused glare in return. ¡°This still doesn¡¯t tell me what did happen.¡± Anesh¡¯s accent came through heavier when he was upset. ¡°Okay. So.¡± James leaned back and let himself float lightly. ¡°We were supposed to just wait until something happened. Then Ben said the Squo agents set a fire to flush out the chanters, and they were going to do it again¡­¡± ¡°Response is still evacuating people.¡± Sarah added with none of her usual cheer. ¡°It¡¯s bad.¡± ¡°¡­yeah. So I made a call.¡± James felt like the words carried a lot of guilt that he shouldn¡¯t be feeling, but he couldn¡¯t stop. ¡°I told Ben to give us telepads for ambush points, took the new kids along for backup, and just¡­ uh¡­¡± his voice broke again and he let himself go quiet. Ink-And-Key lowered his head back into the pool while Alex swam out to let the waterfall of cooler water pour over her. ¡°And we just killed them all.¡± She said. ¡°Sarah fed us relationstick power, Cam saved my life at least twice - thanks Cam - and yeah. We just¡­ we kinda cut them down. They weren¡¯t expecting to be hit at all, and out in the open, with a supercharged camraconda stopping cars and a half dozen extra rifles keeping them pinned down so we could fireball them¡­ yeah.¡± James tried to expel the memory of the scent of burning upholstery, or the feeling of a man¡¯s skull splintering under his palm. It didn¡¯t work. So he tried to not throw up instead, which worked better. A slight pop brought him back to himself as Sarah tapped the pool with the purification brooch, purging the wisps of blood and dirt in it. ¡°At least we know the avatar plan works.¡± She said with a bitter laugh. ¡°Response is even using it right now. Should I be helping? Oh no, should I be¡­¡± she twisted to stare back at the door, and James blinked in worry as he caught sight of lines of scars along her back. Had Sarah always had those? He couldn¡¯t remember, but then, he never really saw his friend naked that often. ¡°If someone else is using it, then they¡¯ve got the book, and they don¡¯t need you.¡± He told her gently. ¡°We should try to see how to get the Attic to make more of those books, too. Not, like, transactionally, just see what makes the Ascent do that and ask nicely.¡± He stared up at the copper pipes crossing the ceiling and let himself drift and start to ramble. ¡°We should do a lot of things. Alex is right. How did it come to this? Why are we literally running around putting out fires and not being proactive? I feel like I think that all the time and I don¡¯t know what the answer is.¡± ¡°The answer is that you are being proactive.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°We all are. Did you forget? We¡¯re finding magic to build power plants, ruin math forever, and set up global transit networks. We¡¯re making money and using it to accomplish good. We could do more, but we could always do more. Which is why we keep doing more.¡± Alex flicked a single finger through the water. ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like it¡¯s enough.¡± She said what James was thinking. ¡°Also why is it so scary?¡± Her voice was tiny, and next to her Ink-And-Key nodded in trembling agreement. ¡°Because it¡¯s scary.¡± James told her. ¡°No one should have to fight for their lives. No one should get shot at. I hate every part of the violence.¡± He paused and then remembered something important. ¡°Oh, you asked why we let them live? One of them defected. Or¡­ you didn¡¯t hear Ben, did you? A few of them tried, and got killed for it. But at the end, that last guy Cam and I rushed to cover? He turned on them. Maybe just to save his own ass, but also, maybe because he knew what he was doing was wrong. Everyone deserves that chance. Down to the last minute, everyone deserves to be allowed to make the right choice.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Alex snapped, before catching her breath and slumping. ¡°Sorry. Yeah. I know.¡± ¡°It¡¯s cool.¡± James told her. Because it was. ¡°We¡¯re not okay. I¡¯m not gonna be mad at you.¡± He heard Alex move in the water, but kept floating on his back. ¡°Oh. Ink-And-Key. Before I forget, I wanted to say thank you. I know we haven¡¯t really met before this, but I know you didn¡¯t have to come with us. But you did, and thank you.¡± The camraconda froze up, before nodding in a bobbing loop, and then sinking further into the water until only his lens was poking up out of the pool. ¡°I¡¯d also say thank you, for keeping you alive.¡± Anesh said. ¡°But he¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ is he okay?¡± ¡°None of us are okay.¡± James and Alex said at the same time, before falling into manic giggles. Sarah watched them as she pulled her legs up onto the stone shelf she was sitting on and wrapped her arms around herself. ¡°Is it bad that I¡¯m glad this is¡­ done? That they¡¯re gone?¡± She asked quietly. James winced, but turned in the middle of the pool where he¡¯d been floating to face her. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°I mean, maybe. I don¡¯t think we should be relieved that a bunch of people chose death. But¡­ I¡¯m not gonna lie, I was waiting for this.¡± ¡°For¡­?¡± ¡°For them to find us. Take a shot at someone we cared about. Something like that.¡± James shrugged as he tugged a strand of his soaked hair off his shoulder and tried in vain to keep it from tangling with his arm sling. ¡°Because¡­ I dunno, they didn¡¯t want to talk. They had their ideals, and that put them in conflict with us, so it felt inevitable. But in a sort of Sword of Damocles way? Like I was waiting to see how many people I loved they¡¯d kill this time. Or maybe they¡¯d win. Or something. But this¡­¡± Alex slapped the water¡¯s surface. ¡°Why the fuck does this feel worse?¡± She demanded. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because we¡¯re seeing ourselves ¡®like them¡¯, in this case.¡± James offered as Ink-And-Key resurfaced for air and started floating around, warm water soothing sore cables and tumultuous thoughts. ¡°We set the ambush. We shot first. Even if that¡¯s not technically true, we feel like shit.¡± ¡°You feel like poop because you¡¯re not a monster.¡± Sarah softly interjected. ¡°It¡¯s really dumb that you never get this. You don¡¯t like killing people because you¡¯re kind of actually a good person most of the time, and killing people isn¡¯t something good people like doing. Am¡­ am I going nuts here? Is that not just a foundational part of your whole thing?¡± She demanded of James. Anesh threw his boyfriend to the wolves. ¡°No, you¡¯re right. He¡¯s being stupid again.¡± He nodded in agreement, even though Sarah crossed her arms at him and scowled. Anesh tried to laugh through the glare, but still ended up with a lot of concern left in his words. ¡°Do I get a say in this?¡± James asked. ¡°Apparently not.¡± Alex snorted. ¡°Sarah¡¯s kinda right though. I didn¡¯t want to kill people. Maybe¡­ maybe I shouldn¡¯t be a knight.¡± ¡°What?¡± James looked over at her with raised eyebrows. ¡°Of course you shouldn¡¯t.¡± He said. ¡°You don¡¯t need to agree so fu-¡° ¡°You should be a paladin.¡± He said. Alex froze as everyone looked at her, except Ink-And-Key, who just tilted his whole body into a curve as he stared at James, floating past like an aberrant pool noodle. ¡°What?¡± She squeaked out. ¡°Oh, come on.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve been doing my job all week anyway. And you¡¯re on my list of people anyway.¡± ¡°You have a list?¡± Sarah¡¯s tone was part curiosity part incredulity. Anesh¡¯s was just incredulous. ¡°Why are you keeping a list? Since when do you even take notes? I¡¯ve played several hundred hours of D&D with you and you never took notes.¡± Now James rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. ¡°That was a game, this is serious.¡± He said, and the simple calm in his voice made Anesh realize that James wasn¡¯t kidding. He wasn¡¯t goofing off or joking around, he was just¡­ earnestly approaching something he wanted to happen. Which he didn¡¯t actually do that often. Usually James did that with a lot of dry wit. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking for people who¡¯d be good candidates. Especially since we¡¯re getting to the point where we¡¯re going to need more people like me, for lots of stuff. Specialists, but also communicators, but also protectors. Alex, you wouldn¡¯t be the first or anything; I¡¯m gonna ask a bunch of people all at once. But¡­ well, you¡¯re on the list. And you should say yes.¡± ¡°But¡­ I¡¯d have to do this.¡± She said, spreading her arms at the group soaking in the pool, indicating the whole situation. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this.¡± ¡°I know.¡± James said with honest sympathy. ¡°Neither do I. Maybe we can do better next time. Maybe we can be more convincing. Maybe you¡¯ll be the one who finds a better way.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But you didn¡¯t want to do this earlier either, and neither did I, but we¡¯re still here.¡± ¡°Why is this your post-battle thing, anyway?¡± Sarah asked suddenly. ¡°Not that I¡¯m not enjoying it, but is there something about being shot at that makes you think you want to be naked and wet?¡± ¡°Most of it!¡± James agreed, not sure if that sentence made sense. ¡°I don¡¯t actually know why. I think¡­ Alex, was it actually you that started this with me? Back with the Alchemists?¡± ¡°I think so?¡± She carved a hand through her hair, shoving the wet mass to the side of her face. ¡°It¡¯s been so long. Oh! Yeah, it was, cause I had a crush on your girlfriend back then!¡± She snapped her fingers just over the water¡¯s surface. ¡°And it was weird!¡± James glanced over at Sarah, who was busy looking mortified. ¡°Uh huh.¡± He said. Ink-And-Key tapped Alex with his tail as he floated around her in a loop of their shared pool, and then splashed aggressively as he indicated Sarah¡¯s presence. ¡°What?¡± Alex asked, looking over at Sarah, then back at the Camraconda. She got a hiss in reply. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I know James is pretending, but none of us speak snake. You don¡¯t speak snake! You told me you don¡¯t mean anything when you hiss at people!¡± She looked back to where Sarah had slipped down to the bottom of the pool to test her breath capacity. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Guys, I don¡¯t have a crush on Sarah. This isn¡¯t a problem.¡± James decided to let that drop. ¡°Alright, alright!¡± He laughed, as Anesh planted a hand on his face next to him. Settling back down next to his boyfriend, letting the light contact of their naked skin fill him with an electric energy, James sighed as he really actually started to relax. ¡°Anyway. This is¡­ I dunno, it¡¯s not a debriefing. Though later we¡¯ll need to go over stuff like drone footage and tactical choices, and figure out what we could have done better. I think I fucked up a lot. But this is kind of like therapy. Not long term therapy where you actually process stuff, but like¡­ like the bandage version of mental health. We need to stop the bleeding.¡± ¡°You were literally bleeding.¡± Anesh reminded him as Sarah burst through the water nearby. ¡°Also you said ¡®shot at¡¯ earlier, and I actually want everyone to know you were shot. You were really bleeding.¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s why we used the purification brooch after I got in.¡± James said as he pressed against Anesh, like that was a normal explanation. ¡°Also Cam got shot too! Actually, Cam, you went to get checked over, right?¡± The woman who had been silently watching them looked at him like she didn¡¯t understand. ¡°I was not injured.¡± She said. ¡°You¡¯ve got holes in your armor.¡± Alex pointed out. ¡°Also why are you wearing armor? I mean, I don¡¯t mind you hanging out with us, but you¡¯re sorta overdressed.¡± She added as she scooted aside to let Ink-And-Key pull himself up the sloped ramp and out of the pool to curl up on the edge opposite Camille. ¡°I mean, not that you have to get naked to hang out. I mean¡­ oh just fucking shoot me.¡± Sarah propped her arms up on the smooth tile near the pool¡¯s edge and looked up at Camille. ¡°Are you okay?¡± She asked the armored girl. ¡°Yes.¡± Camille said bluntly. ¡°Why would I not be?¡± ¡°Because you went through the same thing they did.¡± Sarah softly spoke, just to Cam. ¡°Because you had to kill people. That¡¯s not¡­ something most people have in their day to day life, you know? It¡¯s okay to not feel okay.¡± Camille looked down at Sarah, and abruptly Sarah could see a tidal wave of pain stored behind her eyes. ¡°I have killed before.¡± She said. ¡°I killed today. And I will do so again in the future. And I do not¡­ I don¡¯t feel anything.¡± Abruptly, the stoic and composed nature of her words shattered, and silent tears poured down Cam¡¯s cheeks. ¡°I don¡¯t feel guilt, or disgusted, or any of the things you are speaking of. You weren¡¯t even there, but you talk like you are horrified of what happened, and I feel nothing, and you just said that good people don¡¯t feel nothing when they do this, but this is my life.¡± Cam¡¯s breath came in frantic bursts as she poured out more words than she ever had in a single go before with any of them. ¡°I am an Azure, I am made to fight, and kill, and to gather intelligence and turn it into plans to eliminate the enemy, and all of that makes you hate yourselves?! Why am I here?¡± The last word was practically a hoarse scream, loud enough to draw the attention of the other scattered bathers in the pools around them. And if that wasn¡¯t, then Cam shattering the tile with a simple downward punch was, the cracking of the ceramic material getting a sharp jump from a lot of the others. Alex looked up from where she was helping Ink-And-Key towel off and plug his speaking necklace back in. James let go of Anesh¡¯s hand from where their limbs floated between them, and the two silently tried to find something to say. But Sarah just pulled herself up out of the pool, the tiles she carefully sat down on with a wet plop draining all the water she brought with her back into the bath as she reached out for Cam. ¡°Hey.¡± She said quietly as she leaned in to try to set a hand on Cam¡¯s cheek. Camille flinched back, and swatted at Sarah¡¯s hand so forcefully that James was afraid she might actually hurt his friend. ¡°This isn¡¯t how humans are!¡± Camille yelled, half sobbing as she did. ¡°Stop it!¡± ¡°Hey.¡± Sarah brought her hand back and rested it on the shoulder of Cam¡¯s armor. She considered going in for a hug, but that seemed like a little too far right now; there was actually an upper limit to how many pointy things Sarah was willing to hug without at least a protective layer. ¡°Cam. Look at me.¡± Camille dragged her eyes up to stare at Sarah like a wounded dog. ¡°You¡¯re here because you made a choice. You¡¯re not a monster, and you know it.¡± ¡°You collect monsters.¡± Cam¡¯s voice cracked as she pointed a gauntlet at Ink-And-Key. ¡°Rude.¡± The camraconda said with his reintegrated voice. ¡°Though I feel like it today, so maybe not that rude.¡± ¡°Cam.¡± Sarah pulled the girl¡¯s attention back to her. ¡°We collect people who need help. Do you really think we¡¯re stockpiling friends because of their combat potential?¡± She stared into Camille¡¯s eyes, until the girl winced and looked away with a shake of her head. ¡°Right. Maybe you don¡¯t believe the same things we do, maybe you¡¯re right that killing is part of what you are. That doesn¡¯t mean you don¡¯t belong here, or that you¡¯re a monster. You are a person, and you deserve to be happy.¡± James drifted over to near them. ¡°What Sarah¡¯s also not quite saying,¡± he added, ¡°is that we¡¯re talking about how we feel about this shitty situation. You don¡¯t feel anything? Yeah, bullshit.¡± He paddled water with his maneuverable arm while he stared at her. ¡°You need time, and help, and therapy, and all of that is okay. Maybe you don¡¯t think of it this way, but Cam, you¡¯ve been abused your whole fucking life, and I¡¯m not doing you any favors by asking you to fight for us. It doesn¡¯t make you evil to have built up defenses to the shit we¡¯re going through. It means you¡¯ve been forced into worse situations for longer.¡± James sighed, and then choked on a stray splash of water before catching his breath. ¡°Okay, well, my ruined dignity aside, the point is that whether it¡¯s here in the Order, or here decompressing in a bath with us, you belong wherever you want to be, okay?¡± Camille just nodded mutely. And the next time Sarah reached out, she just sat there and accepted it. ¡°Do you wanna come for a swim?¡± She asked, and Cam nodded stiffly. ¡°Okay. Come with me.¡± Sarah grabbed a towel to cover herself and offered Cam a hand up, which was ignored as the other girl rose and followed her back to the changing area. ¡°Holy shit.¡± Alex said when they were out of earshot. ¡°I thought I was traumatized.¡± ¡°I lied. I lied, I don¡¯t feel like a monster, not like she meant.¡± Ink-And-Key hissed softly as he spoke. ¡°I just didn¡¯t¡­ she looked so sad. That¡¯s what sad humans look like, right? I mostly only work in Research with humans that are always frustrated but in an overly dramatic way and they aren¡¯t sad.¡± Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°Not to put too fine a point on it - also Ink that¡¯s the best description of Research anyone has had yet - but James, does Cam have a therapist?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡± James said with a deep regret. ¡°Well, at least she¡¯s fitting in.¡± Alex offered, and then held up the towel she was using on the camraconda like a shield against a wall of glares. ¡°What? She is! Weren¡¯t we just saying that we¡¯re down here so we can be trauma buddies?!¡± James let out a long groan. ¡°I would¡­ I would not put it that way, no.¡± He said, looking up as Sarah returned to them with Camille in tow. The girl had a towel wrapped around most of her body, but her armor was gone, and the sudden contrast in shape made James realize that the sandy mop of hair she had was just more hair than he¡¯d thought, since he usually only saw her wearing plate mail. She still held the towel around her body like it was armor, though. But with everything stripped away except for a layer of dirt on her skin, it was abruptly obvious to everyone that Camille, despite being able to punch rock in half, was scrawny. To the point that it looked deeply unhealthy, too. Her arms were like twigs. Her legs, capable of jumping her twenty feet into the air last time James checked, looked like they lacked any muscle definition or padding at all, except for a thin layer of hair. ¡°Now remember.¡± Sarah was gently talking to her with the same voice James heard her use on new ratroaches. ¡°You can leave anytime you¡¯re uncomfortable.¡± She had a hand set gently on Cam¡¯s shoulder, while her other hand swung a quickly modified wet floor sign out to cover the hole in the bath¡¯s tile. Camille just nodded stiffly, and walked down the ramp into the pool, still clutching the towel around herself even as it rapidly soaked up water and probably got heavy enough to be a problem. Well, a problem for a normal human. Because despite her underfed figure, Cam was still the most dangerous person in the room, probably. And she was clearly trying to keep her composure as she stood up to her shoulders in warm water. ¡°Now what?¡± Camille asked. Alex rolled over Ink-And-Key, getting a protesting whine as she threw herself back into the pool. ¡°Now, welcome to the trauma club!¡± Alex said. ¡°You cannot call it that.¡± Anesh sunk with mortification. ¡°We could maybe call it that?¡± James mused. ¡°I¡¯m feeling okay joking about it now, but this is probably gonna give me more nightmares.¡± For how long, he didn¡¯t want to guess. Maybe forever. ¡°Hey, Cam?¡± He got her attention, intending to ask if she was eating okay, because James was nursing a low hum of concern that the only real meals she¡¯d had in her month here had been when Keeka made her eat on the delves. But she shattered his plans to ask anything. ¡°You have the nightmares too?¡± ¡°¡­yeah.¡± James said. ¡°Yup.¡± Alex was more cheerful about it. ¡°Less now, but yes. They¡¯re common among my species.¡± Ink-And-Key worried at a projected brass fang as he spoke. ¡°Different ones than them, but I do too.¡± Sarah said as she slid by the smooth stone next to Camille. ¡°Same.¡± Anesh nodded with pursed lips. ¡°¡­oh.¡± Camille looked at them all like she was seeing them for the first time. Or maybe like she¡¯d never really looked at other people as anything but targets before. ¡°No one told me.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± James stopped himself from shrugging, paddling over to the edge of the pool and pulling himself out before he got completely waterlogged. ¡°No, there¡¯s no real excuse, is there? I kind of assumed you were going to be okay because you knew what you were doing. Again. You come across as really¡­ really stable, I guess? Solid? It threw me off. But yeah, Alex isn¡¯t actually lying. We all have our own traumatic stories, and we try to help each other deal with them. There¡¯s support groups and counseling and therapy available, but also we do stuff like this¡± he waved a hand at them, ¡°so we can just¡­ talk. So we know we aren¡¯t alone, or that we have friends.¡± ¡°Speaking of things no one told you.¡± Alex ventured with an almost playful mood that seemed to be more distracting to Camille than anything else. ¡°You know we¡¯ve got a whole-ass restaurant upstairs, right? You can have a salad or something, whenever you get hungry. Which looks like it would be all the time.¡± ¡°Alex! Be nice!¡± Sarah glowered at the other woman. ¡°No, she is right.¡± Camille said suddenly, still just standing in the warm water. James noticed a whorl of dirt and blood drifting around her, and he grabbed the purification brooch to tap the pool again and deal with that really quickly. ¡°I believed it was not for me, as I was provided with food.¡± ¡°¡­the snacks we stocked your room with, like, three weeks ago?¡± James asked, already horrified that he knew the answer. ¡°Yes. And yes, now that I compare the situation with what I know of you, I can see that I made a mistake.¡± Cam pressed the back of a hand into her face. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you ask something easy of me?¡± James couldn¡¯t hold back a laugh as he dried himself off and draped a pair of heavy towels over himself. ¡°I hope this doesn¡¯t sound mean but I am so eager to know; what would you count as easy?¡± ¡°Locating and scouting targets of interest, running intel briefings on enemy pillars, guiding a Violet or Crimson through a combat operation, monitoring various wiretaps and network sniffers, simple things.¡± Her face animated as she spoke, one hand cutting through the water around her. ¡°I know why I left, but life was easier when no one asked me to think about myself. I ate when I was told, slept when I was told, and performed the missions I was given. And I was¡­¡± ¡°Happy?¡± Sarah asked. She was concerned for Cam, but not in the same way James clearly was. He was worried that they were doing her a disservice. Sarah was trying to figure out who the girl under the armor was, and what she needed. Because she did, plainly, need something. ¡°No, no. Not happy. But I was useful. Father relied on my¡­ no, that¡¯s a lie, isn¡¯t it?¡± Camille looked up at the ceiling, trying to imagine she was alone as she spoke. ¡°I was import¡­ I helped with¡­ I¡­¡± her mouth twisted into an angry snarl. ¡°I was a very good tool.¡± She said. ¡°And I didn¡¯t have to be happy. But I also didn¡¯t have to be anything else. And now you are asking me to be something else, and it is complicated, and I don¡¯t know if I can. I still don¡¯t even know if I can be more than the monster you think I am.¡± Before Sarah could answer, James fell into an abrupt coughing fit. ¡°You okay?¡± She asked him with raised eyebrows. ¡°Yeah, just¡­ wasn¡¯t expecting that. Also I¡¯m still getting better. Also I just thought of this, I hope I didn¡¯t get you sick?¡± ¡°Nah, I leveled up Health again.¡± Sarah said. And then changed the subject before anyone could tease her about the origins of that upgrade. ¡°Cam, none of us have ever thought you were a monster.¡± ¡°I really did think that was why you let me into your home.¡± She answered, still staring upward, not seeming to understand how hostile the words sounded. Both to them, and to herself. ¡°Why else would you? This is not rhetorical.¡± The specification to her question got James to stop planning ways to pry into Sarah¡¯s personal life. ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ because we do that?¡± He asked. ¡°It¡¯s true, they do do that.¡± Ink-And-Key agreed with a quick amused hiss. ¡°But you are asking why they would help you if you are not useful, aren¡¯t you?¡± Camille nodded slowly, lowering her head to give the camraconda a mildly suspicious look. ¡°The majority of my people are nonproductive noncombatants. Many of us do not ¡®contribute¡¯ either. The same is true for seventy, eighty percent perhaps, of the ratroach population, and who even tracks how much of the humans rescued by us. Hah, us. I have made a point by accident! I am a part of us now. And maybe was the whole time. And I never needed to be useful to be made to feel like I was cared for. And neither do you!¡± Ink-And-Key pivoted from where he was stretched out on the slick tile to look across the pool at James. ¡°Does she? I should ask first before speaking.¡± ¡°No, no, you¡¯re right.¡± James nodded appreciatively. ¡°And, like, Ink is hitting on something in a way; the people we help tend to turn around and help us back. But we don¡¯t help in the first place to get that? It¡¯s not transactional, is what I¡¯m saying. Cam, if you wanna leave tomorrow and never ¡®pay us back¡¯, that¡¯s cool. You can. You don¡¯t owe us or some shit.¡± ¡°Yeah, you get to be here because that¡¯s what we do.¡± Alex said. ¡°I dunno, is there a better way to say it? Like, I wasn¡¯t there, but you needed help, right? We help people. There.¡± Cam watched the other woman float past her, Alex lazily dog paddling through the pool in circles. ¡°You make it sound too simple.¡± ¡°Doing good is often pretty complicated.¡± Sarah admitted. ¡°But wanting to do good isn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Is evil sorta the opposite?¡± James mused out loud. ¡°This last Status Quo had a whole bunch of complex justifications, but in the end, their actions were just casual murder.¡± He shook his head. That was a bit of a deeper distraction than he wanted to get into right now. Anesh reached over his head to swat at James¡¯ foot. ¡°You¡¯re ruining Sarah¡¯s moment.¡± He told his boyfriend. ¡°Oh, sorry!¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine.¡± Sarah signed dramatically. ¡°I¡¯ve lost the mood now! Camille will just have to find her own answers. Alone in a hostile universe! Uncared for!¡± Sarah swooned, which turned into a laughing splash into the water as Anesh hooked her leg and pulled her off balance. Laughter gave way to a steady and less tense quiet, even if Cam didn¡¯t seem to get the joke. Around them, in the other bath pools, different collections of people enjoyed a late afternoon swim either ending their work for the day or preparing for an evening shift. Or just not having any timed responsibilities at all. At one point, the first cluster from Response that were returning from evacuation and firefighting tasks came down, having been rotated out. They smelled like smoke and spoke with muted voices. They didn¡¯t stay long, just getting cleaned up and then returning to an on call status. There was a part of James that wondered if he should be out there, helping. But almost before he could think that, Anesh was there, arms crossed, staring up at his boyfriend as if to remind him without words that James had a broken shoulder, a minor contusion in his neck, a black ring around one eye, tiny cuts across his palms, and a tender barely sealed hole in his back from where he was shot. He looked up to meet Sarah¡¯s eyes, and found a similar look coming from her. James stopped thinking he should be out there right now. Wrapped in towels, he made a token effort to wring out his hair as he just hung out. James felt drained now, out of words, like he¡¯d run out of even the extra energy he¡¯d just gotten from the Sewer lesson. Talking had been good. Being warm and clean was good. Just knowing there were people who understood, and cared, was good. But now he was quiet. Even while Ink-And-Key and Anesh talked about spreadsheets for some reason, and Alex started humming something familiar to herself, James just let himself exist silently. He didn¡¯t need to say anything, or even present any particular way. He didn¡¯t smile, or frown, or anything at all. He just flopped back onto the towel wrapped around his shoulders, and closed his eyes, and let the world move without him. He¡¯d done his¡­ job was the wrong word. Task? Duty? None of it felt right. He¡¯d fulfilled his role for the day. He¡¯d been told about some terrible thing, and stopped the people doing it. This time it had taken violence. Next time he hoped it wouldn¡¯t. He still felt¡­ something. Not quite guilt, not quite disgust. But it wasn¡¯t good. An anxiety that clawed at the edges of his thoughts and threatened to pull him down into a self destructive spiral if he dropped his guard, but that didn¡¯t seem to be trying hard enough to breach the defenses of a warm bath. ¡°I think I like this.¡± Camille said, still standing with the water up to her chin, the towel she was holding against her form under the water floating around her like a gravity defying ballroom dress. ¡°Why do I like this?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s nice and stuff.¡± Alex told her. ¡°Come float with me!¡± James twisted slightly as he heard a muted plop from the water, his shoulder protesting violently before he corrected and looked out to see Alex flailing and Camille just gone. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°Oh, heck!¡± Sarah plunged under the water. ¡°What happened?¡± James asked. Anesh pulled himself out of the pool and shifted until he could settle down on the cool tile next to James, stealing one of the partially damp towels off his boyfriend. ¡°Would you believe,¡± he asked, ¡°that Cam just sinks?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Okay. Well. That, then.¡± Anesh said. It took almost a minute to verify that Cam wasn¡¯t drowning, but instead, just standing on the bottom of the deeper part of the pool. She seemed content down there. Alex¡¯s smile was still strained as she relayed that information, before she dove down to swim circles around the painfully thin soldier. One by one, they abandoned the water, until only Camille was left, letting her rail thin arms bob with what must have been conscious effort. Ink-And-Key excused himself first, saying a long thank you for letting him join, before the enormous camraconda slithered off. Sarah promised to meet them back at the apartment, and James reflexively waved goodbye with an arm that felt like it had gravel in the joint when he moved it. ¡°Hey new girl, are you gonna be okay?¡± Alex called to Cam as she got dressed by letting a shirt envelop her in a way that James was deeply confused by and envious of. ¡°Like, you¡¯re gonna eat and sleep today, right?¡± Cam turned her eyes onto Alex with what looked like irritation, but Alex just leveled a neutral stare back. ¡°Like eat food. Like not granola bars.¡± Alex carefully didn¡¯t let the menacing daughter of the Last Line of Defense get a reaction out of her. ¡°Because those two are going home, and I need to know if I should budget time for dragging you to the cafeteria before I go find someone to take me up the Climb so that I¡¯m better equipped for this next time.¡± ¡°You know what¡¯s deeply ironic?¡± James asked, probably misusing the word irony. ¡°I was literally planning out my Climb spells before this started. Not that I would have had time to practice and get used to anything before¡­ it. But I really should have¡­ wait, Alex, you have been to the Climb.¡± ¡°Yeah, enough for two spells. You have, what, ten? I can beat that.¡± The comment made him think of the horizontally bisected mountain peak that would greet her ten thousand feet up the Climb. ¡°Betcha you can¡¯t!¡± James let Anesh help him into a shirt as he challenged his potential new paladin. ¡°But seriously, be careful. And maybe find a safer way to get stronger. Like the Office delve we¡¯ll be going on in a week.¡± He felt Anesh tense up, and regretted saying that out loud. ¡°I mean, you know. If I¡¯m doing okay. And Anesh lets me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ I don¡¯t get to decide what you do or don¡¯t do.¡± Anesh tried to explain, and then stopped as he realized he was talking defensively. ¡°Wait, no, yes I do! You damn well cannot go on a delve if you¡¯re this beat up!¡± ¡°Bones heal.¡± James said, half hoping his purple enhancements would choose that moment to refresh. They didn¡¯t, though. So his bones healed a lot slower. ¡°Anyway, yeah, Alex, let me know when you do that. We can practice new spells together. Also I sorta missed the main point of this, which is that yeah, Camille! You need to have real food! Please. So we don¡¯t all worry about you.¡± Camille made the tiniest snort, water rippling around her face. ¡°I am finally comfortable.¡± She said. ¡°You know you can come back here whenever you want, and you don¡¯t need to only do it with us when there¡¯s some new trauma, right?¡± James asked. ¡°Oh, god, that¡¯s actually a question. Uh¡­ you can just come back here. I¡¯m not making fun of you. This isn¡¯t a reward for completing an objective or anything, it really is okay to take a bath whenever you want.¡± His voice shook with emotion as he tried to keep his heart from cracking at the unjust cruelty that had been Cam¡¯s life before them. ¡°¡­oh.¡± Camille started striding back toward the ramp out of the pool, moving through the water like she was taking a normal walk. ¡°I¡­ would like to eat then. I am hungry.¡± She stood with a miniature waterfall pouring out of her sodden towel. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s grab lunch.¡± Alex sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll catch you guys later.¡± She saluted James in an irreverent way that almost didn¡¯t make him wince. Afterward, once they¡¯d both dressed, purified the pool, and Anesh marked that one as free on the board up front, the two of them walked slowly through the vibrant basement halls toward the elevator atrium. ¡°You ready to go home now?¡± Anesh asked, still fussing over his partner. ¡°Maybe lay down for a week or two? Have a nice little sit? I¡¯ll make you soup?¡± ¡°You have made me so much soup. What¡¯s with you and soup lately? It¡¯s been fucking great soup, but I¡¯m not sick anymore.¡± ¡°I got four skill ranks in soup.¡± Anesh explained. ¡°From testing oranges. Oh, I¡¯m also a flight instructor now.¡± James nodded as he leaned against a love of his life. ¡°Mood.¡± He said. ¡°I do not want soup. Can we do¡­ just, like, sandwiches? Like what¡¯s the best sandwich we can make?¡± His boyfriend chuckled and patted his hand. ¡°Oh, and I wasn¡¯t kidding about the Climb spells. We need to drop by the vault. I need to do this now.¡± ¡°You need to do this tomorrow.¡± Anesh said. ¡°When you can drink a reading potion without side effects.¡± ¡°What? Why? Does that matter?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡± Anesh told him. ¡°Which is why you¡¯re going to help test.¡± It was the perfect way to get James to not do something impulsive; by making doing the less impulsive thing tied to helping others. ¡°¡­alright. But I want really fancy cheese on my sandwich.¡± ¡°I love you.¡± Anesh muttered. ¡°You bloody goblin.¡± James smiled, and tried to keep himself from suddenly crying as they walked past the pair of trees growing without a care in the world here in a basement that didn¡¯t intersect normal space properly. ¡°I love you too.¡± His voice shook, filled with an overwhelming feeling that he didn¡¯t have a word for but that cracked his mental defenses and left him feeling vulnerable and exposed but also safe and warm at the same time. ¡°Take me home before I collapse into a puddle?¡± ¡°Right away.¡± Chapter 264 ¡°I have no friends who want to hear about how hot the San¡¯Shyuum used to be.¡± -Brian David Gilbert, Unraveled- _____ Two days later, after taking some real time off to recover a little bit, James came back to the Lair. He¡¯d been keeping up on reports and digital chatter through his whole day off as he hung out with Anesh and watched pirated anime on their couch with a dog who seemed like she really wanted to offer commentary, but still couldn¡¯t actually speak. The anime was fine. The outcome of everything else wasn¡¯t. Whatever Status Quo had triggered in their effort to flush out the chanters hadn¡¯t been focused on the actual city of Yamhill, but it ended up being collateral damage anyway. A little over a thousand people had lived there a week ago. Now, more than half the buildings were just gone, and fire damage marred the rest. An unknown amount of acreage of farmland was ash, and the two reasons there wasn¡¯t a massive forest fire carving through the state was a truly impressive reaction by the Forestry Department and seemingly fewer points of major ignition outside of human occupied areas. Sixteen humans were confirmed dead. An unknown number injured, and a staggering number homeless. The fires hadn¡¯t spread especially fast, and Response had not been shy about evacuating everyone they could. The fact that there were so few deaths was a miracle. A few of those deaths also seemed to be from Status Quo, though why they¡¯d shot random people wasn¡¯t clear and may never fully be understood. Response was out of the area now. After helping to remove the deeply incriminating evidence of a series of shootouts, they¡¯d been gone leaving only hundreds of stories from the survivors of being pulled from impossible situations by teleporting snakes and silent ghosts. Which was actually irritating to Harvey, personally, because the man had coordinated with the local sheriff and been utterly open about what the Order was doing. And yet something kept those memories from really sticking the way they should. And into the gap Response left, Recovery moved in. Reconnecting people with friends and family, retrieving important objects from unstable structures, arranging therapy and long term support, and infusing the Order¡¯s wealth into putting lives back together. Everything they did was documented and far more legal under US law than Response, but somehow, they¡¯d be remembered even less. Just ghosts that had nudged things into place. It was almost a powerful metaphor, but again, really annoying for anyone that wanted to actually be recognized for their good work like they deserved. And they did deserve it; James was planning to find a way to show them, too, at some point. James wasn¡¯t sure what he was expecting when he got to the Lair. But the mood in the building was¡­ almost alarmingly positive. People just generally seeming happy that there was one less threat to them out there, and they didn¡¯t have to get shot at for it to happen. And that had given him a brief spike of anger, before he forced himself to remember that was the point. He was the one who got shot at, so everyone else could be happy. Well, ideally, he also didn¡¯t get shot at either. But if someone had to, it should be him, the guy who was really hard to kill and wore shield bracers like they were snap bracelets. And any lingering irritation vanished when James spotted Keeka on one of the lobby¡¯s beanbag chairs, sitting near the column of glass and metal terrariums, a bearded dragon sitting on his head. The ratroach looking delighted and completely at ease as he let the lizard slowly navigate around his upturned triangular snout. The ratroach¡¯s two lower arms were curled up around his back like he was waiting to catch the mundane lizard if it fell, but aside from that, there was no tension to the scene at all. Just someone cute being cute. The realization that he found Keeka not just cute, but utterly adorable, caught James slightly off guard. He¡¯d said the words before, partly joking, but it hadn¡¯t really sunk in just how attached he¡¯d gotten to both him and also Arrush. Sadly, he had an appointment to keep, and if he missed it because he was flirting with Keeka, then Planner would¡­ ¡°What would Planner do?¡± James asked himself. ¡°It¡¯d probably be nonlethal. Like, surely their revenge wouldn¡¯t actually be lethal.¡± A small whisper of a pen across a page reached his ear. ¡°You would be just too late for taco night. Every week.¡± Planner replied to the question inside their domain. ¡°Well shit. That¡¯s worse!¡± James did not actually think that was worse, he wasn¡¯t exactly married to the idea of taco night. But it was funny, and he liked Planner¡¯s creativity, and he really didn¡¯t want to upset the neurotic infomorph that kept their schedules. Downstairs was as busy as ever, and as James passed through Research¡¯s zone of control, he found himself grinning at how the pen that used to contain a cluster of shellaxies from Officium Mundi had grown slightly and now had a handful of stepshells from the Ceaseless Stacks mixed in. The two species had somewhat similar care and feeding needs, it turned out; while the hermit crab footstools didn¡¯t actually eat computer bugs, they did like crickets, which the shellaxies would happily share with them. They also seemed a little less intelligent, but up to this point, none of them had shown even the slightest sign of hostility to anyone. Shellaxies were still animals, in a way; if you annoyed them, they¡¯d try to bite you, and they were dangerous, no matter what cute name they had. But the stepshells were just¡­ happy to be here. Accessing the Order¡¯s vault was actually easier than it maybe should be. It wasn¡¯t exactly meant to be ¡®secure¡¯ so much as it was just where they stored stuff and had a stricter inventory system than anywhere else. The really dangerous stuff; specifically the notes from the omnicidal Horizonist mechanic, that was kept in an actual secure room. This was just a place that required a passcode and dual authorization to get into. Which, when James thought about that, kinda did make it sound overly secure. Of course they¡¯d taken that secure room, which had a containment pen for anything dangerous and alive that they teleported out of a dungeon at the back and shelves and racks lining the walls that gave way to a quiet and somber shrine that held the loot drops of everyone who had fallen that they could retrieve, and used a pair of orange totems to make it bigger. While the drawers and shelves out here held labeled orbs, spellbooks, map fragments, and a host of esoteric things that they might want to use or copy at some point, the small door to the left that should have overlapped with a computer lab instead led to a cramped room that held guns, ammo, and the twenty grenade launchers they¡¯d liberated from ruined Townton police stations. An actual armory. The room to the right was kind of like the part of a bank where you could open your safety deposit box, and it was where James steered. Nik was already in there waiting for him. ¡°Good, you¡¯re here!¡± The young man looked up from the clean metal table that he¡¯d piled a stack of tattered books on. ¡°I was worried you got lost.¡± ¡°How, exactly, would I¡­ no, nevermind. Also nice ¡®stache.¡± James gave an appreciative nod at Nik¡¯s newly luxurious and darkly green facial hair. ¡°Thanks. It¡¯s fake.¡± Nik answered rapidly. ¡°Well, sorta.¡± James flicked his eyes around the clean walls of the room. ¡°Uh¡­ why?¡± He asked. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this. I screwed up with the shaper substance, and my own facial hair looks like ass.¡± ¡°Okay, two things. One, that doesn¡¯t mean you screwed up. Lots of guys have really stupid facial hair. Like me!¡± James swept an open hand across his cheek. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m smoooooth. Because the alternative is I look like a creepy gym teacher! Also two, why not just try again, but with actual medical help this time?¡± ¡°¡­you know, you¡¯re not the first person to make me feel more male by insulting my beard, which is kinda¡­ uh¡­ not nice. You¡¯re not nice. But you are something.¡± ¡°Thanks! Here to help.¡± ¡°Also the shaper substance is pretty much reserved for the ongoing stream of ratroaches we have coming in.¡± Nik said. ¡°We don¡¯t actually have that much of the stuff. So my ego is a low priority.¡± He looked up suddenly. ¡°Which, uh, it should be! I¡¯m not whining! God, everything is so close to perfect, I¡¯m not gonna make a big deal about not having sideburns.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay to have dreams.¡± He offered. ¡°Also pretty soon we¡¯re gonna be ¡®done¡¯ copying logisticors, maybe we can replace that slot with just making more shaper substance.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a bad ratio of volume to effect.¡± Nik shook his head. ¡°Ah, sorry, I already thought of this. Not that you¡¯re not¡­ fuck I¡¯m just gonna say a bunch of stupid shit today, okay?¡± ¡°That¡¯s pretty much me all the time.¡± James patted Nik on the shoulder as he took the other chair in the room. ¡°Anyway. Should we do what I¡¯m here for?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Nik passed him a hard plastic bulb filled with something that looked like a pulpy white mixture shot through with lines of gooey red. ¡°So. Drink about a third of this, then we can get started.¡± ¡°I really, really do not want to.¡± James took a deep breath as he prepared to imbibe a potion that he loved the effect of - even when it wasn¡¯t synergizing with magic, it was just so cool to be able to focus on reading for the pure joy of it, and retain every line - but despised the taste, texture, and general experience of. ¡°I utterly despise being a test subject.¡± He took a deep breath, and tried not to inhale through his nose as he tilted his head back and squeezed a heavy mouthful of the grim fluid onto his tongue. ¡°Hurrrrgh.¡± He announced as he struggled to swallow, eventually managing, if only barely. Which was when Nik decided to go for a killing blow. ¡°To be fair, we¡¯re pretty sure this doesn¡¯t work. You¡¯re, like, verification number ten or something.¡± He said as he passed James the first Winter¡¯s Climb spellbook. James felt his stomach roil with both flavor and anger. ¡°I will get revenge for this.¡± He swore as he started filling his open learning slots one by one with the magics that he¡¯d chosen. Frost Vector, Call To Blood, Mountain Of The Self, Survival Flare, Frostwake, and, as a treat to himself, Cloud Prowler. Well, maybe not just as a treat to himself. James was going to be one of several people who would be exploring what the limits and responsibilities of having a new life form on call were. He¡¯d had that presented to him when he¡¯d requested the spell in the lineup by someone from Research who hadn¡¯t actually met him before, and had needed to go through a fairly comprehensive set of questioning before he was allowed to check out the spellbook. James found it hilarious, since he¡¯d written the questionnaire, and had explained afterward that he was already familiar with the standard of care, for a variety of reasons. There were a hundred ideas for what to do with the cats. Give them orbs, or Sewer lessons, or their own Climb spells, or skulljacks, or whatever. But James just kind of¡­ wanted a cat that he wouldn¡¯t be allergic to. And since after making his selections, he still had one Climb spell slot empty, so it wasn¡¯t like it was a waste. At least, that was how he justified it to himself. ¡°Now!¡± Nik clapped his hands. ¡°While you¡¯re down here, you wanna get more magic?¡± James sighed. ¡°I mean, yeah? But like¡­ okay, this is gonna sound like my wizard privilege showing, but I actually can¡¯t make use of that much extra magic?¡± ¡°Oh ho ho, look at the paladin, too many magics, huh? Too good for the little hedge mages in the Order?¡± Nik laughed as he lightly teased James. ¡°But seriously, really?¡± ¡°Sorta really, yeah.¡± James nodded with a grin. ¡°So, for some stuff, like purple orbs, it¡¯s fine. They stack, make my frail meat suit better, and I never have to think about them except when it¡¯s one of the ones that forces me to adapt. And even then, I¡¯ve gotten used to my absurd acceleration, so I don¡¯t think about it anymore. Usually. But for Route or Climb spells? Or even absorbed blues? I have to think about using them.¡± ¡°¡­yes?¡± Nik tilted his head. ¡°Yes. Yeah, that¡¯s¡­ that is how you use them.¡± ¡°Nik, you go on delves. Come on.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°How many things can you realistically focus on in a fight?¡± ¡°Oh! One.¡± Nik admitted instantly. ¡°I see your point.¡± ¡°Yeah. So if I keep piling magic into my¡­ magic¡­ organ¡­ then I end up kinda wasting it? Like, later today, I¡¯m gonna go debrief on a fight I was in and get reminded that I didn¡¯t Pave anyone. And that¡¯s literally the most straightforward combat spell possible, it just punches someone.¡± He sighed as he helped Nik align the Climb spellbooks with his good hand, and followed the younger knight out into the vault area to replace them in their sealed shelf. ¡°So I guess if you want me to test a magic, I¡¯m up for it, same if it¡¯s passive, but if it¡¯s just adding a new thing to think about when I¡¯m gonna have to do training runs every day for the next month just to master what I just got? Pass.¡± Nik sighed. ¡°Yeah, that makes sense. It¡¯s the Utah Vancian stuff, if you were curious. Since we have duplicates of the little disc things, and the spells are¡­ uh¡­ I mean they¡­ well, like, if you¡­¡± ¡°Nik.¡± James folded his arms as Nik locked the shelf and avoided his gaze. ¡°It¡¯s kinda cool?¡± He offered. ¡°I mean, one of them makes a towel. That¡¯s useful at least.¡± ¡°What do we have.¡± James sighed. ¡°I guess I can just take something for daily life.¡± ¡°Make a towel, make a chair, turn a frog into a bat.¡± Nik rattled off. James waited. And then stopped waiting. ¡°Right. I talked to Charlie about this three crises ago.¡± He sighed. ¡°You know what? I actually might have a use for that last one. Wait, isn¡¯t this the thing where it takes forever to slot a spell?¡± James asked. ¡°I remember Morgan telling me the rescued teenagers complained about that.¡± ¡°No?¡± Nik closed one eye as he checked something through his skulljack. ¡°No. It¡¯s five minutes for the frog thing. Eight for a towel! It¡¯s a bad towel though, I should tell you.¡± ¡°Get me the frog book.¡± James sighed, going back to take a seat and trying not to think about how much his back and shoulder still hurt, or how the sling he was wearing itched. Nik came back pretty quickly with a book that was way more obviously a spellbook than anything else the Order had, leather bound with weird runes on its cover. And also a small bronze disc. ¡°Neat!¡± James said as he picked up the disc and snapped it in half, accepting that he was going to have to get used to this magic and every magic sooner or later. |1 : 1 Slots Empty| ¡°So, the syntax for this¡­¡± Nik started to explain. ¡°No, no, let me guess.¡± James loved trying to get inside the headspace of dungeons. Even one he¡¯d never ¡®met¡¯ personally. Part of it was thinking, if he designed this magic, how would he express it in a way that was technically correct, but also hard to parse. ¡°Is it level, then number, then spell?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah? Yeah.¡± Nik looked marginally impressed. ¡°This dungeon adds to our growing list of places where the magic is two-stage, and it feels almost purposefully designed to not be discovered.¡± ¡°It probably was.¡± James mused. ¡°Sure. But like¡­ the mix of slots and books is weirdly common, as far as dungeons go. There¡¯s a theory that it¡¯s like orbs; convergent evolution where they¡¯re finding a way to be as unhelpful as possible so that they aren¡¯t worth farming. Or maybe so none of their delvers get too strong.¡± James nodded as he opened the book to the first page and started looking at it. ¡°I can see¡­ uh¡­ what¡¯s up with this?¡± He held up the tome with his free hand, wishing he could point while he did so. ¡°Oh, yeah, it¡¯s gibberish. They¡¯re like that.¡± Nik nodded. ¡°Sorry! It¡¯s all just actually useless ¡®runes¡¯ and stuff. And you have to focus on it for eight whole minutes. Have fun!¡± He stepped back, quashing his desire to talk about dungeon taxonomy with James. ¡°I hope the reading potion helps with this, considering I can still taste it.¡± James grumbled, the flavor of the worst raspberries still lingering on the back of his tongue. It didn¡¯t. If anything, it made it worse, because he clearly remembered his time staring at the lines and symbols of the spellbook, even though it really didn¡¯t mean anything and he¡¯d learned nothing. But five minutes in, almost on the dot, something did change. |1 : 0 Slots Empty 1: 1 Charm River Transmutation| ¡°Wow, it really does just attempt to provide no information. That¡¯s wild.¡± James laughed as he closed the book and sighed, stretching as he stood and left the side room. He handed the book back to Nik with a shake of his head that said clearly that he was disappointed that he¡¯d never get those eight minutes of his life back. Nik just paused in sorting a tray of orbs to replace the spellbook, looking apologetically guilty the whole time. ¡°Alright. Well, that¡¯s¡­ sure something.¡± James said. ¡°Anyway. You wanna ramble about split magic systems at me for a while?¡± ¡°Yes. But I can¡¯t.¡± Nik let out a relieved chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve got two more people coming through for Climb equipping, and they¡¯re both gonna take a little longer since I¡¯m helping with their choices. But later?¡± ¡°Later.¡± James nodded. ¡°Thanks Nik. And hey, thanks for keeping this place looking nice. It¡¯s good to know we aren¡¯t gonna lose random Squo items with everything sorted.¡± ¡°Hah! Yeah! That would be impossible!¡± Nik laughed out in a squeaky voice as he ushered James out of the vault at a rapid pace. James stood on the edge of the Research den as the door sealed behind him and the electronic lock beeped shut. ¡°Alright,¡± he called out to the dozen people nearby, ¡°what did you guys lose?¡± Everyone was suddenly really invested in their work. _____ A day later, his arm healed. One second, his shoulder was cracked and slowly mending, the next, James was fine. Well, not ¡®fine¡¯, since there had been a searing pain of skin and muscle warping and pinching as his bone had resealed itself, but fine in that once he stopped screaming, it faded pretty quickly. Though he was caught totally off guard; normally the magic didn¡¯t do that. But maybe he had just always used it on clean breaks before. Or on outright preventing damage to begin with. Now, at least one purple orb had refreshed and was back on cooldown. He noted the time when his vision stopped blurring and submitted it to the group studying that kind of thing, and then immediately took a course of action that would make any of the medical staff in the building scowl at him by asking if he could join the next day of training drills. Nate, who had gotten back from his vacation to find a fresh source of stress, had stared at James with his eye twitching before agreeing to set something up, and then throwing James out of the kitchen. And now, James was regretting it. Nate had tapped into the list of favors that Bill¡¯s crew owed him to get them to remodel the back parking lot with liberal uses of [Manipulate Asphalt], [Make Door], and the somewhat terrifying blue orb power of [Complicate Route]. Now, instead of a parking lot, there was a temporary set of structures that would have been right at home as either a paintball arena or a US Army shooting course. It was actually rad as hell, and James really wanted to actually play magical paintball here. Which he sorta was doing. But Nate was determined to focus down on his weak points, and drill him out of bad habits in every way that he could, and so James was getting a workout that was somehow more strenuous than the actual combat he¡¯d been in yesterday, leaving him a panting sweaty mess after each ¡®round¡¯. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Nate¡¯s voice broke through to get James¡¯ attention. He stood over the bench that James and a whole lineup of one of their security teams were sitting on. Most of the others were catching their breath, wiping sweat from faces, and squeezing water bottles for all they were worth. James, though, had already gulped back his water to wash the vile taste of exercise potion out of his mouth, and was looking into a long cardboard box someone from Research had run to him. ¡°Orbs.¡± James answered, and noticed the group of new young men and women next to him all suddenly start paying a lot more attention. They were different than the ones James had worked with a few days ago, but no less interested in the magic side of the Order. ¡°I didn¡¯t get a chance to go into the Office because of¡­ you know. The stuff. But they did a few copy runs of different Stacks orbs and I¡¯m supposed to record this batch.¡± He didn¡¯t have his skulljack braid in, because Nate had told him it was cheating, which was bullshit but whatever. So James just used the provided notepad in the box to start filling in as he went through the mostly green and purple orbs in the box, all of them wrapped in labels with a number designation. [+1 Flora Rank : Tree - Cedar - Cyprian] [+1 Flora Rank : Grass - Kentucky Bluegrass] [+1 Flora Rank : Tree - Mango] [+1 Flora Rank : Blackberry - North American - Navaho] [+1 Tool Rank : Computer - Laptop - VAIO - SX Series] [+1 Tool Rank : Centrifuge] [+1 Tool Rank : Screwdriver - Robertson] ¡°I really, really do not get these things.¡± James sighed when he was about a third of the way through. Nate cocked a mostly-fully-regrown eyebrow at him, and James explained. ¡°They¡¯re not bad, don¡¯t get me wrong. And I am supposed to be funneling more magic directly into my blood these days or whatever. But¡­ okay, you know how the Office¡¯s skill ranks make you good at something?¡± ¡°I¡¯m familiar with your bullshit, yeah.¡± Nate nodded. James nodded back. ¡°Okay, well, these ones make you good at getting good. They don¡¯t do anything else. So, with the Officium Mundi yellows - or any of them that might have a skill rank I guess- there¡¯s always this chance that you get something weird, but then you can make it fit into your life. Or change to take advantage of it. These Stacks orbs just feel like they¡¯re making more work, instead.¡± He sighed. ¡°I realize I¡¯m bitching about literal magic. But I just do not know what I¡¯m supposed to do being an estimated thirty percent better at learning about mangos. I like mangos, but¡­¡± James shrugged again. ¡°So, these things don¡¯t give you superpowers?¡± Nate asked, tapping the box with his knee. ¡°Not really.¡± James answered. Nate nodded slowly. ¡°Okay. Set that down.¡± He ordered James, who gave him a curious look but still followed the direction, capping the cardboard box and leaving the notepad on it. ¡°Squad!¡± Nate¡¯s bark was loud, abrupt, and made James¡¯ adrenaline spike as the man next to him suddenly shouted. ¡°Defensive positions, you have one minute!¡± The security squad on the bench dropped their water bottles and reacted impressively quickly. To James, anyway. He felt like if Nate ordered him to do that, he would have given a confused look for half of the allotted minute. ¡°Oh, wait.¡± James groaned as he realized he was about to be told to move again. The exercise potion helped, too, so he couldn¡¯t even say he was sore; he just felt lazy after attempt after attempt working on integrating Climb spells into how he moved and fought. ¡°Get your sparkly paladin ass up.¡± Nate told him without humor. ¡°What are you focusing on?¡± James grunted as he rose to his feet and stretched his arms, before double checking the padded snowboarding pants he was wearing didn¡¯t have holes anywhere he was about to be sliding against the ground. ¡°Use my mobility, don¡¯t get married to cover, don¡¯t panic-cast.¡± He took a deep breath, feeling for the sensation of his Breath in his chest, waiting to be used. Nate had him pushing himself, but it was a warm afternoon and he wasn¡¯t in any danger from using it up. ¡°Okay. You get one invisibility use.¡± Nate indicated the earring James was wearing. James tugged on the wrists of his gloves. ¡°You know, this would be more fair if I got an airsoft gun too.¡± He said. He had to tag them to knock them out of the game. He¡¯d been getting better though; he had about a fifty percent win rate against the team of six. Though unfortunately, they were getting better too. Nate leveled an unamused stare at him, then turned toward the cluttered temporary structures that filled the parking lot and bellowed. ¡°Team three, ready!¡± He didn¡¯t wait for them to call back; they¡¯d learned after the first two times that Nate wouldn¡¯t make them, and that they were giving away where they were hiding. ¡°Beat him in this one, and you get the paladin¡¯s box of toys to split!¡± He added. ¡°Hey, wait...¡± James was actually cool with that, but it still made him start to chuckle and turn toward Nate. Which was a mistake, because Nate¡¯s yelled. ¡°Begin!¡± signaled the start of the drill, and as with the last three times, one of team four¡¯s members was crouched behind a low barrier right at the edge of the field and instantly started trying to shoot James. James heard the mechanical sound of the airsoft gun before the first pellets started flying, and he made up for his distraction by hopping forward to use Nate as cover, which didn¡¯t in any way stop the unseen kid from firing on him. Asking the mystical blood magic earring nicely to spend a charge to make him invisible for the next minute and fifteen seconds, James focused on the area around him and let his enhanced hearing figure out what side of his organic cover his opponents were still shooting at. Then he took off running in the other direction. It wouldn¡¯t take them much time to locate him when he made his presence known, so James needed to make the cloak count. He sprinted at high speed around the perimeter of the arena, then picked a direction to move in. The opposing team would have to have spread out to watch every angle, which meant James wouldn¡¯t have to face all of them at once. He made full use of his improved acceleration to close to one of the weirdly out of place ornate wooden doors standing in the open with a thin asphalt wall to one side. The door was ajar, but he ignored that to circle the piece of cover, and headed for one of the assuredly unsafe two-floor structures that had been set up. Even if he didn¡¯t find anyone right away - because they¡¯d gotten good at lurking - he¡¯d at least have a vantage point. It was pure chance James caught a hint of motion, down a thin corridor between pieces of constructed cover. One of his opponents looking exactly his direction, but not seeing him yet. They had a wall between them and James, which wasn¡¯t going to help them. With his timer ticking, James decided to deal with anyone else nearby after picking off this one. Turning his sprint toward the wall they were hiding behind, knowing he was about to be observed, James exhaled a spell and felt his chest cool off in a way that was actually quite soothing as he removed all friction between his pants and the ground. He¡¯d tried this a lot with boots, but his boots were separate objects, and actually he needed to be able to use them to move. Pants were a much better option. It still hurt when he dropped to his knees on the parking lot¡¯s surface, but he just kept going at high speed, and so even when he flickered back into visibility, James was moving fast, low to the ground, and way too close to be reacted to effectively. ¡°Shit!¡± The defender got out before James slid past their cover, one hand grabbing their calf and yanking them to the ground, hard. He used his feet to stop himself, rolling across this supine foe to slap their chest and a ¡®vital¡¯ point with his palm. They groaned in frustration, but didn¡¯t yell now that they were out. James pulled himself into a somersault and rolled over to another piece of cover, but ended up way too open to the raised floor behind him as the other team started yelling his location out. Swearing internally, he remembered Nate¡¯s direction and kept moving so as not to get pinned down. He¡¯d been really careful to not reveal that he had enhanced hearing this whole time, so when he caught two of them talking in low voices planning to flank him from two walls over, James took advantage of it. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Or tried to. It was hard when there was a spotter on the high ground that kept telling the others where he was. But the whole point was to exercise how good he was at abusing his tricks, so he did exactly that. [Manipulate Asphalt] at range was harder than doing it up close, but James peeked through one of the weird doors to look across an alley, and open up a hole near the bottom of a wall that should be large enough. Then he burst through the door, avoiding fire from the two that were circling him and running straight for the gap. Sliding through was almost easy, but he scraped his forehead on the edge as he did so and so when he popped up right between two of the enemy, his eyes were watering and he really wanted to just give up and go get some ice. But he had momentum and actually didn¡¯t want to get shot with an airsoft rifle today, so he ran across the shady room, dodged an orange traffic pylon, tapped one of the surprised defenders with his fingers and then pulled the acting-corpse in front of him to use as cover from their partner. The partner threw themself sideways through one of the windows, firing backward at James as they did so, and getting a yelp from the hostage that they hit. ¡°Sorry!¡± James told his victim as he let go of their arm and ran perpendicular to where the other one had jumped, listening to where they were circling the building. Then he fired off a charge of [Manipulate Asphalt] at the wall, opened an arm sized hole at head height, and slammed his shoulder into the asphalt as he jutted his hand out and slapped the flanking trooper in the face. Paradoxically, it felt so, so good to be able to slam his shoulder into things without pain. ¡°Three down.¡± James spoke to himself as he pulled his arm back and ran for the opposite side of the building, running over what he¡¯d been working on in his head. Take advantage of mobility, don¡¯t hunker down. There were more of them than him still, and they didn¡¯t need to get close to win. Cover was bad unless it was leading him to his targets. Keep moving. He kept moving, listening for when the spotter up high yelled his position, and kept his head down when they took shots at him. They probably knew they wouldn¡¯t hit from that distance and with James running, but it cost them nothing to try and he only had to get tagged once. As he crossed an open space at a run to avoid taking any of those strat shots, James parkoured his way through a sideways door, and then realized that he hadn¡¯t been avoiding the shots so much as he¡¯d been being herded. Because the room was occupied by more than just a half dozen traffic cones and a pillar holding up the roof in the middle; the other two defenders were already here and focused right on him, from all the way across the space. James did the thing he wasn¡¯t supposed to and panicked cast, a burst of cold meeting the heat in his chest from the exertion as his Frost Vector removed the friction between his right foot and the floor just before he landed from his leap through the gap. With his other foot he kicked off the wall, momentum making the push a little lackluster, but still boosting himself toward the relative safety of the pillar in the middle of the room, curling in on himself to minimize the target that he presented. Then he hit a puddle. How there was a puddle here, he didn¡¯t know. But it highlighted an instant problem with Frost Vector, which was that if the surface changed, the friction also changed, and real fast. James suddenly found his spell countered if not outright canceled, and suddenly his upper half was moving way too fast for his lower half. What was going to be a last ditch attempt to reach cover was instead him sprawling wildly onto his chest as he failed to keep his balance. Then there was a mechanical whirr, click, thunk, and James felt a plastic pellet bounce off the back of his head, only barely slowed by the bound mass of his hair. ¡°Ow.¡± He groaned out. ¡°Yes!¡± One of the defenders shouted. ¡°Fucking yes!¡± He turned and high fived his partner, the two of them standing over James¡¯ prone form. ¡°Good reflexes.¡± James grudgingly groaned out a compliment as he pushed himself up, trying to swipe water off his pants. At least he wasn¡¯t that wet. ¡°I thought I could get to you, but got unlucky with the puddle.¡± ¡°No you didn¡¯t!¡± The celebrating trainee had a grin from ear to ear. He held up a water bottle that was sitting on a ledge nearby and shook it, generating no sound. ¡°Eh? Eh?¡± James looked back to the thin puddle on the ground, right in his way for the path he¡¯d chosen to take to breach the building. ¡°Holy shit.¡± He laughed. ¡°Alright, you fucking got me!¡± He offered a high five himself, which the kid accepted a little more awkwardly. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go tell Nate. Guess you guys get some orbs to split.¡± James gave them an earnest smile as he stepped out of the building. And got shot in the head by a barrage of pellets from a high vantage point. ¡°Ow, fuck! No! I¡¯m out, I¡¯m out!¡± He raised his hands in surrender. ¡°God dammit I was already out!¡± ¡°Oh! Sorry!¡± A girl¡¯s voice yelled back. She didn¡¯t sound that sorry. James didn¡¯t blame the celebrating victors, though. Especially after he got some cool cream for his forehead. They¡¯d earned their orb box. The breakdown of what he¡¯d done wrong with Nate was less fun. But it was important. James wasn¡¯t here to be coddled, he was here to learn. And he planned to keep going until six on one was a real disadvantage to his opponents. _____ That evening, James helped out with a Recovery job. Specifically, he was talking to the various prisoners who¡¯d been liberated from Status Quo. About half of them were already gone, and the polite way to explain that was to say that they¡¯d formally requested to be released from the medical facility. The more actual way to phrase it would be to say that they had, in various forms, demanded to be let go and asked to be dropped off in empty fields or in one case the parking lot of a derelict Best Buy. They didn¡¯t trust the Order, was the point. But the Order of Endless Rooms had a policy for this, and it didn¡¯t rely on being trusted. The people who wanted to leave got to leave, and that was it. Even if some of them seemed like real assholes, that didn¡¯t make them threats or problems, and no one deserved to be made a prisoner just for having magic. Also, it was entirely reasonable for someone to seem like an asshole when they¡¯d been kept in an infomorph-induced prisoner state for weeks or months, waiting to be fed to a monstrous bug thing. But some of them had remained, moving into the expanded apartments in the basement, or taking the offer of financial support to get their own places nearby at more mundane apartments or rental homes. Many of them were going to have a long road to recovery from the trauma of it all; they¡¯d lost friends, sometimes the people closest to them in the world, and it had happened when they¡¯d effectively been kidnapped and mentally violated. The ones that ran from the Order, James was worried about, but they were at least running. The ones that stayed were the people who were hurt to the point they¡¯d almost given up, or they were the ones who felt like there was no point trying to recover their own lives when everyone had forgotten them because of the effect of the prisoner infomorph. James really hated those things. Research had tried to pry into how they worked, but like most infomorphs, they just didn¡¯t work without a mind to exist in. And given how they seemed capable of causing permanent changes in a person, it didn¡¯t seem like a great idea to ask for volunteers to be test subjects. And they did seem like ¡®dumb¡¯ infomorphs, in the same vein as factals or whatever identity-shredder memeplex the Office used. So while he hated them, he didn¡¯t hold a grudge, and they were all gone now anyway. Which mostly just left James talking to survivors, reassuring them that things could be better, and offering what the Order had. And, pointedly, not prying into what their dungeons had been. And that was the situation that found him sitting at a kitchen table in someone¡¯s apartment, drinking hot chocolate and answering questions that he was pretty sure had been covered, but were being asked again to try to absolutely make sure the Order wasn¡¯t lying or covering something up. ¡°So how long does this go on for?¡± Azalea asked him. James didn¡¯t know if that was her name. On a practical level it didn¡¯t matter, and on an ideological level, he felt like people should name themselves whatever they wanted. ¡°Which this?¡± He asked. ¡°Like, this check in?¡± He took a sip of his cocoa and tried to not get distracted by the tree right outside her back porch waving in the breeze. ¡°No, this.¡± She waved around the front room of the one bedroom apartment. ¡°The whole thing. How long until I need to pay you back, or whatever you want.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± James stopped himself from reflexively saying it was indefinite. ¡°So, I want to say it lasts as long as you need it. On a practical level, we probably could pay your rent forever. Realistically, we¡¯d like to get you back on your feet within a couple years, though if you want to join the Order, you probably could.¡± ¡°A couple years.¡± The chubby woman leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter she was hiding behind, cradling her own cup of hot chocolate. ¡°You get that¡¯s, what, forty grand for this place?¡± James flicked a finger against the side of his cup. ¡°Probably.¡± He said. ¡°Money is a tool to me, at this point. Paying your rent is¡­ I dunno, less efficient, but not that much compared to what we¡¯re bringing in. At a certain level of organization and magic, you can make a lot of money. Though ideologically I¡¯m sorta uncomfortable with it.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t wanna be rich?¡± She asked, suspicion on full blast. ¡°Eh.¡± James shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯s not cool, I guess? But I need you to understand that my idea of luxury is having a bed big enough to fit all my boyfriends in it. Money over a certain point just kind of¡­ eh? I¡¯d rather filter it into doing something useful.¡± James admitted. ¡°Do you wanna be rich?¡± Azalea didn¡¯t even think about it. ¡°Fuck yes.¡± She said. ¡°Can I be rich if I work for you?¡± ¡°Probably not.¡± James admitted. ¡°I mean, you¡¯d get paid pretty well. Sorta depends what job you want I guess. Wanna be a programmer? We need more programmers.¡± He chuckled lightly at the look she gave him. ¡°Alright, no on that then. I mean, we can give you the skills! We have that power!¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± The words were tense, but seemed honestly curious. ¡°Just handing out skill upgrades?¡± James nodded. ¡°Pretty much!¡± He said enthusiastically. ¡°We¡¯ve got a few ways, too. Could have had more if Status Quo didn¡¯t make a habit of murdering dungeons. Direct skill ranks from the orbs we collect, actual human¡­ well, person¡­ skill download from the skulljacks, if we get really lucky we might actually find an orb for learning to use computers better soon. Who knows.¡± She stared at him, setting her mug down and tracing a finger around the rim in a nervous arc. ¡°You get how creepy it is that you just tell people what magic you have, right?¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± James said. ¡°No? I dunno. I¡¯m literally telling you to entice you by showing off what we have to share.¡± ¡°Right, and all you want is what I¡¯ve got to give back.¡± ¡°Well, no.¡± He left his hot chocolate half finished on the table, the sugar a little too much for him right now. ¡°That¡¯s a common worry. But no. If you want to share what your magic is like, you can. If not, you don¡¯t need to. It literally won¡¯t change anything. That¡¯s sort of what I¡¯m here to remind you about, I guess? Like, I brought a copy of your lease for you, so you can have it. You¡¯re paid up until next November. You don¡¯t owe us anything. We want one thing, and that¡¯s to unfuck as much of what Status Quo did as possible.¡± ¡°Yeah? Well good luck. As long as those bastards are still out there-¡° ¡°They aren¡¯t.¡± James cut her off, voice tight. ¡°What?¡± He made a conscious effort to unclench his fist. ¡°They aren¡¯t out there.¡± He repeated. ¡°Not anymore.¡± ¡°¡­oh.¡± Azalea picked up her cup, tilted her head back to drink the rest of it, and lowered it into the sink pinched between her fingers. ¡°My brother and I found a weird tree behind our uncle¡¯s house when we inherited it. It grew like it was an archway, like in that one movie.¡± She didn¡¯t clarify which movie, and James really wanted to ask, but felt like that could wait. ¡°And every full moon, it was a door. And we¡­ you know.¡± ¡°Went in, checked it out, found some dangerous stuff, and some cool stuff?¡± James tried not to smile, for fear it might seem condescending. It didn¡¯t quite work, the woman snorting and tugging on the edge of her shirt as she leaned forward on the counter again. ¡°Yeah, you know. There was so much¡­ I don¡¯t even know where to start. There were plants made of glass and a pond that was liquid light, and my brother¡­ Christ, the fucking idiot tried to kiss a mermaid.¡± She rubbed at her forehead. ¡°I¡¯m lying, actually. He succeeded. That makes it so much worse. He was¡­ he was¡­¡± Her voice cracked, and James felt like an awkward intruder in her home because he knew what happened to her brother. So he said nothing, and waited. After composing herself, Azalea cleared her throat. ¡°Whatever. You wanna know about the-¡° ¡°I actually don¡¯t.¡± James said softly. ¡°I¡¯m not kidding. You don¡¯t need to tell me. You can just talk about your brother and his mermaid girlfriend if you want. I know¡­ I know a lot of the time, the people in our line of work that we lose don¡¯t get a proper memorial. But we can have one for them, if you want.¡± Azalea bit down on her lips, sucking air through her nose and fighting back tears as she shook her head. ¡°Maybe later. Maybe with someone else. No offense, but I don¡¯t really know you.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯m mostly just here filling in for Cathy today.¡± James gave an awkward laugh. ¡°If the magic is easier to talk about, I¡¯m okay with it. But also, I can head out if you need space. I really was just here to make sure you were doing okay.¡± ¡°No, no. I can do this.¡± Azalea reassured herself. ¡°The magic¡­ Christ it¡¯s so stupid. It¡¯s upgrades to things you can do.¡± She saw James questioning look, and the hungry curiosity he was repressing. ¡°Like¡­ each little spell or whatever would give you a stupidly specific action, and if you do exactly that, then it makes it better. My first one was¡­¡± she let out an awkward and unexpected laugh of her own, ¡°was that if I cut one inch off a carrot with a reverse slice and a kinda weird grip on the knife, then it would make the carrot more healthy.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ weirdly specific, yeah.¡± James agreed, no longer hiding his smile. ¡°See, you think it¡¯s fucking stupid too!¡± She accused him. He held up his hands and laughed. ¡°Do you wanna know what my first skill was?¡± James asked, and got a quick nod. ¡°I got a rank in phone book templating. Not even that, it¡¯s only for New York phone books. Do you know how often that comes up? The Order of Endless Rooms has literally been doing espionage work in New York for months now, the one time it should matter, and it has never once been relevant.¡± ¡°Wow, that¡¯s so dumb.¡± She said before clapping a hand over her mouth. ¡°I mean¡­!¡± ¡°No, you re right!¡± James reassured her. ¡°It¡¯s practically a tradition for us that everyone¡¯s first thing is just so silly. My boyfriend got a skill in Swedish warships, I think. It¡¯s frankly a miracle that I kept going back at all in the first place.¡± He shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re not alone even among people we rescued, either. Someone else¡¯s dungeon gave buffs that stacked up every birthday. So, like, a whole year before you got these tiny passive upgrades. I know of another dungeon that makes you look at squiggly lines for a while before it gives you the magic to make a very uncomfortable towel. Sometimes this stuff is bad.¡± ¡°¡­that¡¯s wild.¡° Azalea chuckled to herself. ¡°You probably know, though, but¡­ sometimes¡­¡± ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s not.¡± James agreed. ¡°I know. And that¡¯s why it¡¯s worth it. But also, it¡¯s worth it, because it¡¯s magical. Not just magic, as a tool, but magical to see what¡¯s out there.¡± He looked out the window to his left, talking as he watched the perfectly normal tree, fresh green leaves waving in the spring wind. ¡°Some of the people I love aren¡¯t human. Some of the places I¡¯ve seen, I¡¯ll never forget. And some of what I can do now, let¡¯s me¡­ well¡­ help people.¡± There was a brief pause in the conversation. ¡°Really?¡± She asked him eventually. ¡°That¡¯s all you care about?¡± ¡°Kinda!¡± James told her. ¡°Thing is, I could hoard it all for myself, you know? But if I did that, I would have missed out on at least three dungeons. I¡¯d never have the time to explore all of them on my own. I¡¯d be dead a hundred times over just from stuff like the cameraconds. I¡¯d be missing half my coolest magic, and I¡¯d be fucking miserable besides. I give away the majority of the cool stuff we find, and I¡¯m happier than I¡¯ve ever been, and maybe that¡¯s naive and stupid, but holy shit am I having a good time. I mean, when I¡¯m not running into Status Quo, again.¡± He added the last part grudgingly. Azalea gave him a considering look. ¡°Is the birthday¡­ dungeon?¡­ birthday dungeon still around?¡± ¡°No! And I¡¯m so fucking mad about that!¡± James rapped his knuckles on her table as he stood up. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ve got three more people to talk to today. If you wanna talk more, I¡¯ll try to make time later, or you can set something up with Recovery. You¡¯ve still got the contact info for if you¡¯re in trouble or need something, right?¡± She nodded at him. ¡°Cool. Let us know if you need anything, alright?¡± ¡°Yeah, alright.¡± She said as she followed him to her front door. ¡°So, are you collecting dungeons?¡± The question was probing and not as subtle as she thought. ¡°Yes, but not like you mean.¡± James told her. ¡°And I¡¯ll be honest, I don¡¯t think we¡¯re gonna find a single living dungeon from anyone we pulled out of that prison.¡± He didn¡¯t look back as he slipped into his shoes. ¡°I think Status Quo had a way to kill them faster. Either that, or it¡¯s just bad luck. But it doesn¡¯t matter, we¡¯re not building a stockpile exactly. Dungeons are only worth it if we¡¯ve got the people to check them out.¡± He left the statement open ended as he pulled the front door open and got hit with a warm wind. ¡°Were you serious?¡± She said when he was halfway out onto the old wood that connected the front doors of six different small apartments. ¡°About recruiting someone like me?¡± James looked back at her. ¡°The first thing you talked about was how cool the plants were.¡± He said. ¡°You¡¯re exactly who we want to be recruiting.¡± She glared, not at him, but at something behind him, around him, at everything that was the world on the other side of the door. ¡°People never want to help.¡± She stated. ¡°You know, before¡­ before this. Shit, man, a few months ago? I worked at a KFC. You know, just so you know I¡¯m not some kind of mystic hero or anything. My brother was homeless. It¡¯s not like we didn¡¯t have friends, but they weren¡¯t friends, if you know what I mean. We were so utterly boned until our uncle died and we inherited the house. There was no financial aid, no one covering rent, he barely even got help from soup kitchens. And then, all of a sudden, there¡¯s magic.¡± Azalea¡¯s eyes tracked back down from looking up at the sky to skim across James¡¯ steady gaze. ¡°Could you have helped?¡± ¡°With the magic?¡± ¡°With rent. With anything. This all went wrong because we were so broke we tried selling charmed stuff on eBay. Could you have helped us? Maybe covered the estate tax, or showed us how to be safe with the Garden, or kept the jackbooted thugs from ever finding us?¡± James thought about it, and didn¡¯t like the answer he came up with. ¡°Yeah.¡± He sighed. ¡°We probably could have. Three months ago? Yeah. Yeah we could have.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you?¡± She asked. ¡°...I don¡¯t¡­ know.¡± James answered. ¡°Maybe we just aren¡¯t moving fast enough.¡± He grimaced as he offered her a weak shrug. ¡°There¡¯s real reasons, like that we don¡¯t actually have the kind of intelligence network that they were working with. We aren¡¯t spying on everyone. Mostly.¡± The last word was muttered under his breath. ¡°But I can¡¯t give you a good excuse. We could have helped, if we¡¯d known.¡± Azalea took a deep breath, like she was preparing to verbally unload on him. And then she just stopped with a hand on the edge of her door, and nodded. ¡°Maybe go faster next time.¡± She said as she shut him out on her apartment¡¯s front porch. ¡°...Yeah.¡± James agreed. ¡ª- A timer on the desk James was using started beeping, and he started uttering profanity stolen from various science fiction series as he leaned back away from the screen he was staring at, rubbing his eyes. ¡°Okay.¡± He spoke to himself and possibly to Assorted Jellybeans as the shellaxy tried to menace James into giving it a bag of crickets through the fence of the pen it was in. ¡°That¡¯s three in a row. We can safely say that you cannot slot Utah magic through a live feed.¡± He pulled up the shared spreadsheet that someone smarter had set up for him, and he¡¯d just been filling in. It took a tiny nudge of a thought, the newest emerald chip program that was now copied into every skulljack braid making spreadsheet manipulation an effortless breeze. He recorded his time on this particular idea, number of tests, and any personal notes. Information about what was and wasn¡¯t possible slowly growing as James checklisted a series of his own ideas on the one magic that no one had really gotten around to testing or working on yet. It would be a lie to say that he¡¯d been in this basement for twelve hours working on this, because he¡¯d taken breaks and also because some of the tests required being outside. But he had spent pretty much all day on it, trying to distract himself from what was going on at some point this evening. Reading the spellbooks without focusing on the images? Didn¡¯t work. Reading with the grotesque raspberry and ink potion? Didn¡¯t help. Reading through a recording? Reading through a webcam? Didn¡¯t trigger the effect. Reading when you had a robot turning the pages for you? Worked normally. Reading while you had no open spell slots? Didn¡¯t do anything. Attempting to ¡®read¡¯ the runes from your own memory because you had seen too much of this fucking book? Nothing. Attempting to read from digital memory through the skulljack? No. James was legitimately disappointed by that one, he¡¯d thought he was onto something. Using different locations? Didn¡¯t seem to change anything noticeable. He¡¯d need dungeon access to try to get weird with that one. Reading at the same time as someone else? Worked fine. Reading in a ¡®race¡¯ with an opponent while Research tested a copy of the Beloved Winner Seizes Momentum figurine that they¡¯d made from the Ceaseless Stacks loot pile? In a twist that made James¡¯ brain feel like it was melting, winning that contest had dropped the time requirement for the next attempt by a whole minute and a half. It hadn¡¯t lasted, but that was actually very cool, even if it had spoiled one of his other tests with an unforeseen variable and made him waste six and a half minutes. The followup test showed that the ¡®momentum¡¯ didn¡¯t actually work if he won a different kind of contest either, though it did make him slightly better at arm wrestling. Or at least, it felt that way, and he got to take a break to learn just how secretly buff Mars was. James was testing this predominantly with the Saint¡¯s Wrap spellbook, which made a towel. The towels weren¡¯t very good; coarse and not really absorbent. But the part of his brain that had lived technically below the poverty line after finishing college kept telling him they were free towels. They were also piling up near his workspace like he was doing all the laundy for a bad motel. Reading while doing other things was circumstantial. Walking on a treadmill? Fine. Jogging? Also fine for the one attempt that he tried. Listening to a podcast? Not fine. Listening to music? Fine. Trying to play minesweeper through his skulljack with pure fumbling willpower and no intermediate program? Absolutely not. Playing Tetris normally? Actually worked on the third attempt when he¡¯d turned Tetris into a meditative focus. James let his attention scan across his list of tests, looking for what his next target was. One idea that he¡¯d been putting off because he was lazy jumped out at him, and he sighed as he figured he might as well try it. At least he could bring the spellbook out of the vault and to his temporary desk where he could be amused by a determined shellaxy while he ¡®read¡¯. As long as he wasn¡¯t going anywhere with it and followed proper procedure, there was no way it was getting lost this close to the room. He hoped. He assumed Research couldn¡¯t lose valuable magical gear within ten feet of the place they stored their dungeontech. He took a minute to disable the webcam he had set up facing the open book, then took it back to his desk, and lingered before sitting down. Savoring the feeling of moving after too long stationary. His bruises and scrapes from training yesterday still stung, but in a way that just made him want to get back to that instead of this, but learning how to fight singular wizards wasn¡¯t on Nate¡¯s personal spreadsheet for training plans for his developing soldiers today. James stopped stalling, sat down, and got to reading. Eight minutes later, the spell conveniently informed him of its settling into the structure of his soul. Or whatever organ dealt with making towels ex nihilo. |1 : 2 Slots Empty 1 : 1 Saint¡¯s Wrap 1 : 1 Charm River Transmutation| And James, against every part of him that wanted to go do anything else by this point, sat still, kept his eyes on the book, reflexively turned the page, and kept carefully focusing on the lines and angles and shapes of the meaningless runes that made it up. The next page wasn¡¯t appreciably different than the first, though some of the marks were different, and James tried not to worry too much about how memorizing this was affecting his brain as he went back to staring. Mostly he was resigned to this idea getting lumped into the ¡®yeah of course that doesn¡¯t work¡¯ category. Which was why, eight minutes later, he felt his eyes widen as the magic shifted and changed. He couldn¡¯t describe the feeling; the spell being learned didn¡¯t feel like anything, but this? It felt like he was eight years old and had eaten too much sugar before bed and his mind was moving too fast for the frail husk of flesh that surrounded him. Just for a moment, though. And then something more concrete and less terrible caught his attention. |1 : 2 Slots Empty 1 : 1 Saint¡¯s Wrap + 1 : 1 Charm River Transmutation| James lost his focus immediately, but that was fine. The damage, such as it was, was done, and the smug grin on his face from being vindicated in this process felt better than anything he¡¯d experienced all week. ¡°Behold!¡± He announced to Assorted Jellybeans, flourishing his hand palm down over the side of the desk. ¡°My magnum opus!¡± Casting Utah magic was easy enough that James found it kind of insulting. You just¡­ did it. It was actually simpler than the process of mentally asking Status Quo items to do their job. So he made the spell go, and a towel appeared, and dropped to the floor. When he picked it up, he knew instantly it was better. A little softer, a little plusher, a little wider, and a little more pleasant of a color. Just a little better. In every way a towel could be. ¡°Okay.¡± James grinned as he folded it and started a new stack of his own personal replacement for Bed Bath and Beyond. ¡°Now let¡¯s do it again.¡± He dove back in, revitalized. It took one successful repeat and one test that failed because he lost focus for James to decide he wasn¡¯t as revitalized as he¡¯d expected. Staring at the stupid spellbook of summon bath towel was just not something he had any mental capacity in reserve for. Which was why he didn¡¯t mind so much when a pair of hands slipped around his head and covered his eyes. ¡°Guess who!¡± Alanna said as she pressed up against him. ¡°The mid nineties when this was a thing?¡± James asked. ¡°Here to haunt me, the ghost of a decade past where everything was just as shit but seemed fine because I was a kid who couldn¡¯t read the news and didn¡¯t know how many war crimes were going on every day?¡± Alanna turned covering his eyes into lightly strangling her boyfriend. ¡°You are the fuckin¡¯ opposite of fun today. I thought you¡¯d be happy to see me!¡± James laughed, the sound slightly awkward with her throttling him back and forth in his chair. A feeling like a warm wellspring of joy pouring up through his chest as he turned his head up and kissed her chin. ¡°I am,¡± he said when he was done being murdered, ¡°so happy to see you.¡± He had known Alanna was going to be back probably sometime today with the rest of the Route Horizon delve, but he hadn¡¯t actually realized how much he¡¯d missed her until this moment. ¡°I love you.¡± He told her with a dopey grin on his face. ¡°And that¡¯s before I give you your first surprise!¡± Alanna said with a grin. ¡°Behold, the fruits of my adventure!¡± She leaned over James, covering him with her frame as she spread her hands on his desk and framing the little plastic baggie with some scraps of paper in it that she¡¯d brought him. ¡°I hope this is actually a surprise, anyway. I wasn¡¯t sure if they made it back in time to get duplicated, or if anyone told you. Or, like, if you googled it. Since you¡¯re even more on the internet now than you normally used to be.¡± ¡°The internet is great though.¡± James defended his skulljack habits. ¡°I can read fanfiction while I use the bathroom! Who could hate the internet.¡± ¡°Eat your maps.¡± Alanna laughed at him, her voice slowly filling the lonely hole James had been feeling in his life. ¡°This one is kinda stupid, but it¡¯s something, so everyone gets a copy!¡± Knowing he wasn¡¯t gonna get to ask her about her trip until he did so, James pulled out the map fragments and set about trying to line them up. A bit of a trail guide, a printout generic google maps knockoff showing a gas station parking lot, and a fragment of a highway geological survey connecting them. And then James was staring down at a black globe; barely visible points of light for his other spells rushing away as he descended toward a growing strip of light, miles of highway and tiny blobs on either end lit up golden against the abyss of his Route Horizon spell globe. When he opened his eyes back in the waking world, he knew what he had been gifted. [Dial Breach] allowed him to take control of a nearby sound system¡¯s settings for a few seconds, at the cost of six Velocity, more than he even had access to right now. ¡°Wow.¡± He wheezed out a laugh. ¡°I know, right?¡± Alanna said, still leaning on his shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s so dumb.¡± ¡°I can see why everyone was fine keeping this secret from me. Also I love it, thank you.¡± He pushed his chair back, nudging his girlfriend until she relented and let him up. ¡°And you. I love you.¡± James stepped up to press his shoulder into her chest, curling around to kiss her neck again. Alanna flushed as she tried to push him back. ¡°You already said that! You¡¯re gonna ruin my cool warrior girl aesthetic if anyone sees!¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, because that¡¯s at risk.¡± James rolled his eyes as he took in his partner. She had a dozen bandages all over her arms and face along with an obvious tan, was wearing a coat with one sleeve ripped off, and had a dark streak in her hair that James hoped was something as benign as just oil. And she looked like she had been having a great time. ¡°You wanna tell me what happened?¡± He asked, thirsty for details. ¡°Yeah yeah, sure, during your second surprise. What are you doing down here anyway? You know it¡¯s a nice day outside?¡± ¡°Eh, I was checking out the Utah magic. Doing iterative tests. It¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ I mean, I don¡¯t get a chance to do this kind of stuff anymore, you know? It¡¯s not super critical, but I actually love playing with magic and I haven¡¯t found a new way to use an orb in months so I¡¯m in withdrawl. Also checking off things that don¡¯t work is satisfying.¡± ¡°Fun?¡± ¡°Satisfying.¡± ¡°So not fun.¡± ¡°¡­satisfying.¡± ¡°So¡­ if I, maybe, had a table waiting for us at a fancy barbeque place, and wanted to ask you out¡­¡± It was genuinely amazing that Alanna could sometimes look so timid when she talked, despite also looking like she¡¯d just finished helping Max Rockatanzky escape the thunderdome. ¡°Would you abandon your super satisfying magic work to go on a big date?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± James told her, throwing his arms around her shoulders and moving in for a real kiss. He paused right before their lips met. ¡°Wait, hang on. Big date like¡­ like a date that¡¯s very important? Or like one where Anesh and Sarah and Anesh and Anesh are also there?¡± He shook his head as he pressed a finger to Alanna¡¯s lips. ¡°Nevermind, either one sounds great.¡± He stole a smooch through her now muffled attempt to explain. Alanna kept trying to talk through the kiss, which just made both of them fall into a fit of giggles, both of them catching their breath before she answered him. ¡°The second one. A date with everyone you said. And maybe also Zhu, who¡¯s asleep now but wanted to try ribs. And maybe also Arrush. And Keeka.¡± ¡°¡­Now see here.¡± ¡°Oh come on!¡± Alanna elbowed him as she walked by and spun to lean on his stack of terrible towels. ¡°I just had to deal with a week of Arrush being so fucking head over¡­ over whatever ratroaches have that are like heels¡­ for you. And I know you feel the same way, cause I¡¯ve been in your brain! And also Anesh¡¯s brain, which is why Keeka¡¯s there, cause even if you didn¡¯t love the adorable twink rat, Anesh sure fucking does, and it¡¯s so gay, and I¡¯m doing that thing you said you loved about me where I¡¯ve replaced tact with being an emotional bulldozer that makes the relationships happen! This is how things get done, James!¡± She paused only briefly to catch her breath. ¡°You did this to me, and now it¡¯s your turn!¡± James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he glowered at her, unable to actually argue with any of that, and feeling his desire to eat an entire rack of ribs and flirt with people he loved slowly overwhelming any protests he might have had. ¡°Did I tell you already that I love you?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m pretty great, aren¡¯t I?¡± Alanna crossed her arms, one tanned forearm sticking out from her shredded jacket. ¡°¡­Wanna see if we can get TQ to come too?¡± He proposed. ¡°Oh I didn¡¯t forget anyone! He¡¯s upstairs waiting for me to pick him up.!¡± Alanna slapped the back of one hand into her other palm with a crack of noise. ¡°So since that¡¯s a yes from you, I¡¯ll be right back!¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got time, I need to check this dumb thing back in.¡± James motioned to the spellbook as Alanna reared back and turned like she was going to sprint straight through any Researcher dumb enough to step into her path. ¡°Hey! I¡¯m glad you¡¯re back!¡± He yelled after her. James shook his head as Alanna jogged off to find another friend to rope into dinner. Date or not, he imagined this would just be a great night. And he legitimately was looking forward to hearing about the adventures of everyone who went into Route Horizon. And apparently Alanna was excited too, because James felt something click inside of him. <| Corridor Filled : Bond Formed - Anticipation : Share - Strength : Vector - Touch : One Corridor Established : Zero Corridors Empty |> ¡°Right!¡± James blinked away spots in his vision as the intrusive and imposing thought caught him off guard. ¡°Forgot about that one! Shit, is this really the first time that¡¯s come up?¡± He laughed, getting looks from some of the other people nearby. ¡°Alright, cool. Hey, does anyone know where Nik went? I need to get this back into the vault. I¡¯ve got a date to get to.¡± Chapter 265 ¡°Chosen Ones are very used to that. They¡¯re used to people thinking what they can get from them. To him, you¡¯re just another person looking to take something.¡± -Estel, Chosen Ones D&D Podcast- _____ James and Alanna walked past a few tables in the grill she¡¯d led them to, looking for the big table their group was at waiting for them. TQ was also with them, but the camraconda was currently on Alanna¡¯s arm, having been carried here for reasons James wasn¡¯t quite clear on and weren¡¯t being explained to him. For reasons that were probably that Alanna thought it was funny, TQ was still being lugged around while they entered the restaurant. The restaurant was called the Charcoal Flame Bar And Grill, and while James suspected the name was aspirational, he liked the vibe inside. Weird crystal sculptures hanging from the ceiling, ancient and weathered framed photographs covering the walls, and living plants in corners and alcoves and cubbies that had grown strong on the scent of barbeque in the air. It felt comfy, and that was reinforced by the low and warm lights, and the delicious smells in the air. The trio got a few weird looks, but James didn¡¯t care. He was feeling great, despite the ache in his back and leg from injuries that were only mostly healed, the withered feeling in his eyes from spending too long staring at pages today, and the fact that he was starving. At least one of those could be fixed here though. James pointed at where he spotted an Anesh through a small window into a sectioned off room, and they aimed themselves that way, Alanna carefully shifting TQ¡¯s form so he didn¡¯t nail another diner in the head with his tail. They got there just in time to hear the server that was taking drink orders asking, ¡°So you guys going to a gaming convention or something?¡± ¡°Oh man.¡± James said brightly as he came around the corner. ¡°Is there a con going on right now? I haven¡¯t gotten to go to a con in forever.¡± ¡°Ah, is this everyone else?¡± The bearded man who was sporting an apron, a pad of paper, and eight visible tattoos looked like exactly who James expected to work at or possibly secretly own a place like this. ¡°Yeah, this is all of us.¡± James moved to let Alanna drop TQ, her and the camraconda sliding by to find seats. ¡°Ugh. Now I wish I was going to a con.¡± ¡°You are dressed for it.¡± Alanna pointed out, then looked down at herself. ¡°I mean, I am too I guess. I look like I¡¯ve got half a cosplay on.¡± ¡°I am not.¡± James protested. Every Anesh rolled his eyes at once. ¡°You¡¯re wearing a video game shirt, love.¡± He said. ¡°I am? No I¡¯m not.¡± James looked down at his chest. ¡°This is a goose shirt. It¡¯s¡­ wait, no, you¡¯re right!¡± He looked at the server, shaking his head slightly. ¡°I forget everything I¡¯m doing on a regular basis, sorry. Anyway, no, not here for a convention.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ but¡­¡± the server realized suddenly that TQ was in the process of slithering up onto the leather bench seat at the back of the room, completely unassisted. ¡°Okay, sure.¡± James nodded at him. ¡°Best attitude to take, honestly.¡± He appreciated the casual acceptance. It gave him hope for the future. Turning to the little room they¡¯d been given and the trio of smaller tables pushed together, James looked at his friends and lovers. Alanna had claimed the chair at the end of the table, so she could face everyone down, while still being next to Sarah. On the padded bench that made up half the seats, TQ was getting Sarah to show him the menu, while next to the camraconda, a pair of Anesh sat on either side of Keeka, the ratroach looking timidly downward with all four of his hands folding and twisting in his lap. Another Anesh sat in a chair near James, and he took the opportunity to ruffle his boyfriend¡¯s hair to the mildly envious glances of the others. Next to him was Arrush, who was clearly trying very hard to not draw the attention of the server. And one more Anesh at the opposite end of their table from Alanna, looking at something on his phone; that Anesh looked a lot more exhausted and scraped up than the others. James stole the seat next to Arrush, and considered reaching over to ruffle his head fur too, but stopped because he wouldn¡¯t be sure he wasn¡¯t damaging any of his antenna through the hood that Arrush had pulled up around his head. ¡°You doing okay?¡± He quietly asked the ratroach as he settled in. Arrush jolted as James touched him on one of his smaller arms through the back of his hoodie. ¡°Y-yes.¡± The ratroach cleared his throat roughly. ¡°I will be okay. There were people.¡± He said it like an explanation, which, really it was. Arrush and Keeka were so much more vibrant and emotionally healthy compared to when they¡¯d arrived, but they were still not fully comfortable around strangers. ¡°Okay.¡± Their server said as everyone settled in. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta ask.¡± ¡°About our drink orders?¡± Sarah cheerfully intercepted. ¡°¡­Yeah, sure, I can ask about those.¡± ¡°Or about the other thing?¡± She gave him a mischievous grin. ¡°This is a side of Sarah I¡¯m not familiar with.¡± James admitted, looking up at the server apologetically. ¡°She¡¯s normally less of a gremlin than this.¡± Alanna stage coughed into her fist. ¡°Really?¡± She asked. ¡°Because¡­¡± she laughed as Sarah threw herself off the padded bench to try to tackle her out of her chair with a flustered yelp. ¡°Okay, but seriously.¡± James told the server. ¡°Magic is real and we¡¯ve got some friends who aren¡¯t human.¡± He pointed around the table, including Alanna who was starting to get a sleep coating of dusty orange feathers on her shoulders. ¡°Camraconda, ratroach, navigator, uh¡­ Anesh. Anesh is actually human.¡± ¡°There¡¯s just a lot of me.¡± Two Anesh said in unison. ¡°Because of the magic.¡± ¡°Can I learn magic?¡± The server cut to the question that James always felt like people should ask but avoided. ¡°Holy shit, I want to be a wizard. Can I be a wizard?¡± ¡°Yes! I mean, sort of. I mean, probably.¡± James wavered a hand in front of himself as he twisted in his seat to face the guy. ¡°We¡¯ll talk later. Right now, we¡¯re actually here just to relax, if that¡¯s¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, sure.¡± The man bobbed his head, looking like the world¡¯s most eager puppy mixed with a late thirties IPA enthusiast. ¡°So drinks for everyone?¡± ¡°Thunderhead Stout.¡± All four Anesh said at once. And then one of them added, ¡°To be clear, I would like four of those. Total. Not four each. Four pints please.¡± ¡°You¡¯re so fucking adorable.¡± Alanna chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll have a peach tea and a White Russian.¡± ¡°Arnold Palmer please!¡± Sarah said, since there was no particular order to how they were calling their drinks. ¡°Who is that?¡± TQ asked her as the server paused in pointing his pen at the camraconda. Sarah blinked. ¡°Oh! He¡¯s a golfer, but there¡¯s a drink named after him. It¡¯s iced tea and lemonade.¡± ¡°Oh. Can I have one? I will try it. And a long straw please.¡± Their server was nodding with a huge grin on his face as he took the camraconda¡¯s order. James tilted his head back. ¡°Mango juice for me. No ice. Arrush, Keeka, you guys can order whatever you want, it¡¯s okay.¡± ¡°I will¡­ I will try what he said.¡± Arrush practically whispered as he pointed at James with his sleeve. ¡°Anything for you¡­ uh¡­ man?¡± The server titled his pen at Keeka. The ratroach, who had made the conscious and unbelievably brave decision to come outside with them wearing the breezy teeshirt and skirt he liked so much around the Lair, looked like he was about to melt into a puddle just from being observed by a strange human. ¡°D¡­do you have an apple juice?¡± He asked in a high pitched squeak. To the man¡¯s credit, the server did exactly what James believed was the perfect answer. He acted like this was perfectly normal. ¡°We¡¯ve got three different ciders, yeah. Are you looking for alcoholic, or not?¡± Keeka gave him a silent shake of his head. ¡°Okay, I¡®ve got you covered. I¡¯ll leave you guys with the menus for a while, and I¡¯ll be back in a bit.¡± He paused at the door, and then turned to look back at them, opening his mouth like he wanted to say something but couldn¡¯t figure out what. Then he just shook his head and vanished. ¡°Well that went well!¡± Alanna laughed. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m going to die.¡± Arrush exhaled, one of the napkins on the table fluttering as he gasped. ¡°Why did I agree to this.¡± ¡°Cause you wanna smooch James and I¡¯m very persuasive.¡± Alanna announced. ¡°Also this place does ribs!¡± James laughed as Arrush¡¯s exposed skin turned bright green and he retreated farther into his hoodie. ¡°Also, hey, you drink?¡± He asked Alanna. ¡°I¡¯ve literally never seen you drink. I drink more often than you and I don¡¯t drink!¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m trying something different.¡± She said. ¡°And then there¡¯s tea when it turns out I hate it. So hey! I haven¡¯t seen some of you in a week!¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t seen most of me in a week either.¡± Anesh pointed out as all three of him tilted the menus they were reading down to look at Alanna. The fourth Anesh just kept reading about burger options. Alanna made a huffing protest. ¡°That doesn¡¯t count, that¡­¡± she stopped abruptly, her face reflecting the sinking feeling in her gut as she realized what she was about to say. ¡°I mean, uh¡­ fuck.¡± She slid her chair back and dropped her head to the table, covering it with her arms like she was trying to hide and dislodging Sarah in the process. James shared a glance with the two Anesh across the table from him. ¡°I think she thinks you¡¯re gonna be mad about that.¡± He said quietly. ¡°I kinda am.¡± Anesh answered. ¡°Because we¡¯ve absolutely talked before about how I¡¯m discrete people most of the time.¡± ¡°To be fair though,¡± the Anesh that had gone into the dungeon added, ¡°that¡¯s easy to forget when she¡¯s been spending time with just one of me.¡± Alanna made a pained wail, while Sarah tried to give her reassuring head pats. The other three Anesh gave tiny nods, before realizing they¡¯d just agreed with themself. ¡°Huh!¡± James said with piqued interest. ¡°First time I¡¯ve seen that happen.¡± Next to him, Arrush kept looking between different Anesh and Alanna, clearly feeling uncomfortable with the situation. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry.¡± Alanna muttered, picking her head up. ¡°May I interject?¡± TQ asked, and everyone paused to glance the camraconda¡¯s way. ¡°For two months I did not realize Anesh was not several similar humans with the same name. If we are evaluating fairness, I want to admit that I could not tell humans apart.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ the funniest thing I¡¯ve ever heard.¡± James stifled a laugh. ¡°I¡­ get you confused with Daniel sometime.¡± Arrush tried to whisper with a wet hiss to James, which everyone heard anyway. ¡°No, that¡¯s the funniest thing now.¡± Two Anesh said at the same time, the other two cracking and chuckling. ¡°Alanna, it¡¯s okay. I¡­ I dunno, I¡¯m not angry at you, but it did kinda hurt.¡± Anesh wasn¡¯t super comfortable being perfectly open in front of a crowd, but it was different when it was a group of his friends. He still tried to derail the topic rapidly. ¡°Anyway, most of me hasn¡¯t seen a lot of you for a week. What was the Route like?¡± ¡°Exhausting.¡± Anesh told himself. ¡°But you¡¯ll get to feel that later.¡± He actually hadn¡¯t synced up for a reason; he was getting the unique perspective of both seeing something firsthand, and being told about it for the first time. Anesh was testing to see if it gave him a better angle at finding interesting lines of thought about the situation. TQ also spoke up, adding his digital voice as he shifted his coil to try to get comfortable on the leather seat. ¡°Also exhausting, but also exhilarating. We were ambushed by so many different things.¡± ¡°Fucking hell, yeah.¡± Alanna had an excited grin back in place. ¡°There was a high speed chase every hour or so. The Route does not like it when you get deeper in.¡± She paused briefly as someone in an apron walked by their table and did a double take before continuing on. ¡°I got to drive a truck.¡± Arrush sounded like he¡¯d been holding that tidbit in the whole time, waiting to tell someone. When the table waited for him to continue, though, the big ratroach realized everyone was looking at him and withered slightly, slumping his shoulders. ¡°¡­it was fun¡­¡± he mumbled. Keeka, slowly cracking out of his anxiety at being in public, came to his rescue. ¡°I wanna hear about the truck adventure!¡± He chittered out, his excitement and worry colliding in a messy mix of English and Spanish as he dove in to support his boyfriend. Prompted to actually talk, and slowly getting comfortable with the setting and the group, Arrush started explaining across the table about getting practice in driving on long stretches, and at one point actually having his fumbling new skills tested by yet another ambush. James settled into his seat next to the ratroach, feeling a comfort in the proximity as Arrush spoke. It was, he realized, something that had sort of snuck up on him; he knew Arrush and Keeka both liked him, and he liked them both back, but until right now, he hadn¡¯t quite felt that click in his chest of being able to put a finger on the feeling. Across the table, Alanna, Sarah, and TQ all winked at him in unison, and James rolled his eyes back at them, the dopey smile he¡¯d had on his lips turning wry as the trio sent a tease his way. TQ getting in on the joke was legitimately funny to him, as well as reassuring; James wasn¡¯t stupid and he knew the camraconda was also interested in some kind of relationship. But the two of them weren¡¯t that close yet. And yet, TQ was here, hanging out, spending time together, and at no point had the serpent ever made James feel pressured. So maybe that would develop one day. If not, then that¡¯d be fine. But in the meantime, his presence felt playful, and happy, and James really was glad they were all here. The waiter interrupted Arrush briefly to bring their drinks in, along with straws for everyone. Sarah started on sticking straws together for TQ, while Arrush got out the metal reusable straw James had gotten him as a practical gift, since he couldn¡¯t melt it. ¡°You guys ready to order?¡± The bearded man asked them, trying to look like he wasn¡¯t staring at Keeka as the black furred ratroach sipped at his cider and tried not to vibrate with excitement through the bench seat he was perched on. Ordering food went a little smoother. James and Alanna got two different flavors of ribs that they planned to split between them. Which expanded to include Arrush when he sheepishly asked if that was okay. Each Anesh ordered a different pizza or fancy salad, presumably with the same intention. Keeka had whispered out a question, back to being shy now that another unknown human was nearby, and the surprisingly chill waiter had given him a quick choice of vegetarian options that ended with him getting a veggie burger. Sarah and TQ got different types of chicken, and then got into a friendly banter about the superiority of their choices, which James took to mean that they would probably not be sharing with each other. ¡°Should we get, like, some extra fries to share?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°No!¡± TQ and James broke off from their separate small chats in unison. They shared a look, and James tilted his head toward his friend, letting TQ explain. ¡°Every dish comes with fries! This is a trap!¡± ¡°¡­What if I get mine with tater tots or something?¡± Alanna falsely pouted as she tried to come up with a defense. ¡°Then you will be full of potatoes in a different format. Congratulations.¡± TQ told her. ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± James shook his head. ¡°And I know, because this happens every time we get food from places like this. No one can eat that many fries.¡± Keeka¡¯s quiet voice cut in. ¡°I could eat that many fries¡­¡± the shy ratroach curled his smaller arms together. ¡°I¡¯m good at eating potatoes.¡± The two Anesh on either side of him turned to look at the lithe ratroach together with puzzled expressions that were shared by every Anesh at the table. ¡°Really?¡± He asked. ¡°Is this a special ability? Because I don¡¯t look at you and think ¡®chip disposal unit¡¯ that much.¡± ¡°I could¡­ I could be that!¡± Keeka flushed neon green around his eyes as he curled back in his seat. The waiter, gnawing on his lip as he watched, cleared his throat. ¡°So¡­ I¡¯ll go get your orders in, without extra fries?¡± He offered. ¡°Yell if you need anything.¡± He backed out of the side room their table was in, stealing glances as he did so. James tried to keep his own confident shell up, because there were other diners and staff walking by too, but he still took the time to set a hand on Arrush¡¯s arm, and look over at Keeka and TQ. ¡°Hey, if you guys feel like you wanna leave anytime, just let us know, okay?¡± ¡°No, I want ribs now.¡± It wasn¡¯t clear if Arrush was sounding irate on purpose, but James thought it was fucking adorable that the way he chose to fold his arms was all five of them latticing together in a mesh of crossed limbs. It was like he was capable of being grumpy at higher power than any living human. And it made Keeka giggle too, along with Sarah, which was a plus. TQ just looped his boxy head around. ¡°I don¡¯t mind. I understand they want to look at me. I am very pretty.¡± ¡°You¡¯re certainly on the emotional track most camracondas are of getting gradually sassier.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, so! Who wants to do storytime first? Route, or real world crap? I vote you guys.¡± He pointed around at everyone else, noticing that Zhu was still sleepily waking up his manifestation on Alanna and not quite part of the conversation. ¡°I have¡­ a million tiny stories.¡± Alanna said with a sigh. ¡°Buddy, I love you, but I don¡¯t know how the hell you can write reports and structure stuff like you do. It¡¯s all just a jumble.¡± ¡°I was a business major.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Sure. That¡¯s not really¡­ an answer.¡± Alanna started toying with her set of silverware on the table. ¡°Anyway, I wanna tell you about going into the machine cave, or the time I dive tackled a camcondor, or something like that. But if you want the actual outline¡­¡± she shrugged and motioned at the Anesh who had been on the delve. Anesh took a deep breath. ¡°Okay, yes, I may have prepared some words. But also, Alanna, they all want to hear about you dive tackling a bird now.¡± TQ hissed at them. ¡°Also there was a debate about the name. Camcondor sounds too similar.¡± ¡°Man, I want to side with you?¡± James told the camraconda. ¡°But you need to know there¡¯s something like a hundred species of bird that all have the same color word in the names, and that happens all the time out here.¡± ¡°Your world is stupid.¡± ¡°Your world now, too.¡± James reminded TQ with a grin. Anesh cleared his throats. ¡°Cute, but if I may?¡± One of him handed himself back a notebook that he¡¯d been reading. ¡°I can make it quick.¡± He couldn¡¯t, really, but he did hit the really important stuff in rapid order. A lot of it was things that James could have learned tomorrow when the Order¡¯s collective database got updated, but it was just more personal and fun to hear it from his boyfriend directly. ¡°The initial exploration started out smooth. Just a normal delve, following some of El¡¯s procedures for tracking where we were on the roads. There¡¯s some kind of big spatial magic in the off road parts, it takes way too long to get where you could have gotten in minutes if you¡¯d just taken a fork in the road. We did confirm that, though we don¡¯t know if it¡¯s something we can copy.¡± Anesh paused, four bodies sipping his beer in unison and getting a delighted grin from Keeka at the motion. ¡°We weren¡¯t thorough on the first day, instead going for distance. There were two attacks while we were on the road, and they didn¡¯t actually cause any damage, because our convoy was maybe a little overleveled.¡± TQ whipped his head back and forth, still holding his straw in his mouth and spraying droplets of iced tea onto Sarah. ¡°Every dungeon is designed for humans!¡± He declared. ¡°They are unfair! And now it is time to be unfair in our favor!¡± ¡°Yeah, having camracondas along was a big part of it.¡± Alanna noted as she tried her own drink and then grimaced and glared at the heavy glass. ¡°Ew. Okay, no.¡± She sat it down, swapping to the non-alcoholic option. ¡°Learning about myself today.¡± She mumbled as Anesh continued. ¡°Right. Well.¡± Every Anesh gave Alanna a loving little smile while one of him kept talking about the Route delve. ¡°Stopping for the night was a problem. It does actually get to be night in there, by the way, but it¡¯s on a seventy hour cycle. Just stopping is a huge issue though. Everything in the Route, including stuff that shows up inside buildings, uses speed as its main advantage.¡± James raised a hand. ¡°Not being mechanical?¡± ¡°That too.¡± Anesh answered with a pointed finger of acknowledgment. ¡°But mostly it¡¯s that things can close the gap right fast. And when they do, if we¡¯re not ready, that speed can be lethal.¡± ¡°¡­no one died, right?¡± Sarah asked, a tremor in her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± she took a deep steadying breath while Alanna wrapped an arm around her girlfriend. ¡°No.¡± Arrush said quickly. ¡°Yeah, no fatalities. Some people got hurt though. Especially at the first camp. There¡¯s¡­ a¡­ thumb¡­ man. Wow, okay, that curse is harsh.¡± Anesh frowned. ¡°You¡¯ll learn about that one later I guess, after Mercy or Planner disinfects us. Can I tell you about the car sized sandstone hands? Okay, good.¡± ¡°What.¡± James and Keeka asked, one of them more curious, the other more irate at the dungeon. Arrush explained, holding up a paw in a curled claw. ¡°Big hands, made out of rock. They blend in with the sand, and they were fast.¡± He wiped at the corner of his mouth where a line of blue saliva was dripping as he unconsciously bared his teeth. ¡°Third least favorite thing.¡± He decided. Anesh nodded. ¡°So whenever we tried to settle down to rest, something would rush us. Something that wouldn¡¯t have even been a problem if we were moving, but if we¡¯re out of our cars and basically at a standstill¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°So. We adapted, and started working in shifts. Slept in the box truck, didn¡¯t stop moving for more than an hour at a time, basically the rawest road trip.¡± It sounded miserable to James, and seeing how the words made his friends look exhausted, it was probably worse than he was imagining. ¡°After that, it was a pattern. Get a little deeper in, if we found a large enough structure we would stop for a while to eat and use the loo, look for points of interest, and explore.¡± ¡°Tell them about the train.¡± Arrush was clearly trying to not sound too eager; that sort of restrained excitement that James not-so-fondly remembered where he really wanted to share something but didn¡¯t want to seem weird. Anesh just laughed, a friendly and familiar laugh, that reminded James that his human boyfriend and potential future ratroach boyfriend had just spent a week together and had clearly come out the other side a little closer. ¡°I¡¯m getting to¡­ oh, hell with it. We found the train. The one you and El flagged a long time ago. But not on the rails. Or¡­ okay¡­ how do I even start with this? Alanna, you tell this part. This is your zone.¡± Grinning widely, Alanna shifted her shoulders and straighted up, suddenly commanding the table. ¡°It made its own rails.¡± She started with the cadence of someone telling a story and not just making a report. ¡°We followed it for a few days, though not all at once. We kept stopping for gas or fights or whatever. But we were following the tracks in a sort of sideways way. And then, one night, we saw it out in the middle of the desert, and we went for it. Actually, James, you¡¯ll be super mad about this; we split the party.¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°I am super mad about this.¡± James confirmed with a nod and a tiny sip of his juice. ¡°It was going slow when we approached, and scopes let us see what it was up to. The thing didn¡¯t have tracks; it was sucking up sand and rock and whatever, and converting it into steel and wood.¡± Alanna¡¯s eyes were distant, like she was remembering a once in a lifetime sight. And really, she might have been. ¡°Fifty cars long. There were a hundred navigator lines around it. Like it was a meteor, from far away. And when we got closer, they went wild. Orange and red lights flying around like the world¡¯s most terrifying swarm of bees.¡± Arrush met James¡¯ eyes with his own mismatched set, and slowly shook his head. Arrush had opinions on bees. Not noticing the byplay, Alanna continued. ¡°They didn¡¯t hurt us directly, but they did keep trying to run us into rocks or cacti. And we didn¡¯t really keep up that well, especially when the train started throwing out defenders. It makes the dune bugs, guys. Like the big thing from the Climb, only¡­ almost industrial. Half the cars we got looks into seemed like they were growing dune bugs or the spider wheels or something else we hadn¡¯t seen before. Other cars were like oil tanks, or sealed cargo. And when we pissed the train off, it moved. Threw a dozen monsters at us, and started vomiting out rails and just took off.¡± ¡°Please tell me you didn¡¯t chase it.¡± Sarah¡¯s voice was resigned, because she could see the gleam in Alanna¡¯s eyes. ¡°I will¡­ not tell you that. Sorry! I¡¯m really sorry!¡± Alanna held her hands up, palms out. ¡°But we didn¡¯t try to board it, we¡¯re not idiots. Instead we just held everything off, trusted the repair gas, and got close enough to the rear car to [Liquify Metal] on the coupling. It took so many tries, that thing was secure. Kirk actually passed out trying, and I bled my brains out through my nose.¡± ¡°Oh is that what happened.¡± Anesh remarked in a way that was so utterly neutral it took a second for Alanna to gasp out in offense and rap him on the arm with her knuckles. ¡°Ow! Hey! Don¡¯t punish me, it was me that said that!¡± Anesh threw himself under the bus. ¡°You were discretely thinking it!¡± Alanna accused them. ¡°Anyway. After that, we¡­ well, we let it go. And then we looted the caboose.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°You know how every time we find money in dungeons these days, it¡¯s really kinda frustrating, because we don¡¯t need cash anymore? Well, allow me to offer an alternative to frustrate you in a novel way; seeds.¡± ¡°Seeds?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Like¡­ plant seeds? Not weird hecky magic seeds for things that kill people? Not bullets? We know one dumb dumb that calls their bullets seeds.¡± TQ hissed a laugh. ¡°We haven¡¯t grown them, we don¡¯t know yet.¡± He said. ¡°But we have a lot to try with.¡± ¡°Yeah, Research is on it.¡± Anesh said. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be too hard to match them to actual real world plants if that¡¯s what¡¯s going on. And maybe they are magic or something, but whatever they are, we have a lot of them. We¡¯re talking tonnes, here. We couldn¡¯t even fit them into any of the trucks, we just strategically destroyed the train car and then hooked it up to the APC to pull it out of there.¡± ¡°I¡¯m so goddamn mad I had the flu.¡± James grumbled good naturedly. ¡°Everyone got to do fun stuff while I was sick.¡± This time, Arrush patted him on the arm. ¡°There¡­ there¡­?¡± The ratroach took a fumbling attempt at being comforting, warmth radiating from where his two paws landed on James. ¡°You can get in a colorful and scary fight with a monster next¡­ week?¡± James¡¯ smile cracked, and he met Sarah¡¯s eyes. The others at the table noticed, and the mood dropped a little. ¡°What¡­¡± one Anesh in particular started to ask. ¡°Your story first.¡± Keeka demanded, his half empty cider clutched in all four of his paws. He tilted his head and took a single sip from the straw, his smooth antenna bobbing over him. ¡°Well, who am I to say no to that.¡± Anesh sighed as his duplicates gave him an unspoken signal that things were okay and he¡¯d be filled in shortly. ¡°So we went through a lot of really wild places. There was a part where the road went through a tar pit, and we had to dial it way back to be able to see where we were driving through the mess. There was a forest of street signs three meters tall. We found a different kind of magic gas. Oh, the Route is an excellent example of how deeper in, the loot gets better. Because we ended up finding maybe ten relic gears in every place we explored. What am I missing?¡± He looked over at Alanna. Arrush shifted in his seat, his tails eagerly twitching behind him. ¡°The cave.¡± He reminded Anesh. ¡°We found the cave.¡± ¡°You wanna tell them about the cave?¡± Alanna asked, and then started digging in a pocket for her phone. ¡°Actually, you talk, I¡¯ve got pictures.¡± ¡°It was a nest.¡± Arrush said, his eyes looking across at Keeka who smiled as his boyfriend talked. ¡°We were looking for a car. Because it had a skeleton in it.¡± Anesh let out a small sigh. ¡°Right. We¡¯re pretty sure human remains we find in dungeons are ¡®real¡¯, and not created. So we wanted to see if we could find a wallet or something on the corpse. Tell their family.¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t.¡± Arrush slowly shook his head, mindful of splattering anything corrosive on the restaurant¡¯s table. ¡°Just scraps. But the cave it hid in¡­ it kept going. Like a¡­ like¡­ like what?¡± He curiously turned to Alanna for the word. ¡°Pit.¡± She supplied. ¡°Like, a mechanic¡¯s pit.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Arrush¡¯s claws played across his limbs and the tabletop. ¡°It went down, and down, and¡­ and it had a hole in the world. And some kind of machine in the center, and it floated. And there were rings around it like the big cake Marjorie made for us but upside down, and tunnels made of metal. And the machine was singing.¡± He dipped into Spanish every few words as he breathlessly tried to express what he¡¯d seen down under the sands of Route Horizon. It was hard, because while Arrush wasn¡¯t stupid, he didn¡¯t have all the words. Not yet, not exactly. But he wanted to share so desperately. Alanna held her phone out, flipping it around in her hand to show the table the screen. ¡°Yeah, Arrush got it pretty much on the money.¡± She said. ¡°Massive hovering engine, ant¡¯s nest of tunnels and creepy stuff. Uh¡­ when he says it was singing, he means it was implanting in us a physical addiction to driving? I feel like I should be clear on that.¡± ¡°¡­are you okay?¡± James asked her. ¡°Please.¡± TQ said over an amused burst of hissing. ¡°We have magic for that.¡± The camraconda paused, looked down, then looked back up a second later and added ¡°Also we will need more water. For the magic. Because I thirst.¡± ¡°Thirst for the open road.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°And also for actual water, because that Climb spell is weird.¡± Arrush ducked his head. ¡°I thought the song was beautiful.¡± He shyly murmured. ¡°Oh, I believe you!¡± James said as he took Alanna¡¯s phone that was being passed around and looked at the spectacle of a thirty foot tall mechanical abomination floating in the air, dripping something black and viscous. ¡°But beautiful things can still hurt us. And I¡¯d prefer if you didn¡¯t have a forced need to rack up speeding tickets.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Arrush relaxed. ¡°How am I supposed to win them?¡± ¡°Win what?¡± ¡°The tickets?¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯ll¡­ explain that one later.¡± James said, and Arrush just trustingly gave him a tiny nod. ¡°This thing looks rad though.¡± ¡°Go to the next picture!¡± Alanna said. Which caused a spike of anxiety in James, who was conditioned by his generation¡¯s etiquette to never swipe to the next image when someone was showing you something, in case it ended up being way too personal. The fact that he regularly saw Alanna without her pants on didn¡¯t change the fact that he was gritting his teeth in apprehension as he flicked to the next image. Which was, it turned out, not even close to what he expected. ¡°Look! Look James! I rode a moose!¡± ¡°What the¡­?¡± James held the screen up to eye level, looking in amazement at Alanna with her legs clamped around the folded metal frame of what looked like a half-elk half-motorcycle half-problem. It had a face like a headlight sharpened to a rounded rectangular muzzle, and antlers that splayed off its head in a dozen directions; an equine afro of steel rods and hanging wires. He passed the phone over to the Anesh opposite Arrush, leaning against his ratroach friend as he did. ¡°I am gonna make a guess.¡± James ventured. ¡°That the moose wasn¡¯t exactly happy about that.¡± ¡°Oh, god no.¡± Alanna answered with a laugh. ¡°She was trampled.¡± TQ ratted out the human woman. Sarah gave TQ a wide eyed look of horror that she pivoted to Alanna with a jolt of her head. ¡°You were trampled?!¡± ¡°Only a little bit!¡± Alanna tried, and failed, to defend herself. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m tough! I can take it!¡± ¡°We hit the moose with one of the¡­ the small cars.¡± Arrush tried to bring his paws together to manually explain the concept of a quad bike. ¡°And then you said you were dying.¡± He threw Alanna under the moose. ¡°Alanna!¡± Sarah gave her girlfriend a pained look. ¡°No!¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Alanna repeated. ¡°Look! I¡¯m not dead at all! Arrush is exaggerating, somehow, while saying exactly what happened!¡± She pressed the knuckles of her fist into her own mouth. ¡°Okay, that sounds worse. Look, the moose seemed like it might have been friendly, I wanted to give it a chance, and it didn¡¯t work out, but also no one died. And if I hadn¡¯t done it, someone might have died.¡± TQ finally decided to help out the woman he¡¯d been on a delve team with for the last week. ¡°This is true. I would have died. But I do not have sufficient thighs for moose riding.¡± ¡°That is both technically correct and also a weird mental image.¡± Anesh gave a single unified chuckle from four throats. ¡°I¡¯m thinking about it now.¡± James leaned back and looked up at the dimly lit restaurant ceiling, not actually thinking about it but just taking a moment to smell the cooking food in the distance, and enjoy being somewhere new. While he did that, at the same time Alanna was making a snarky ¡°Yeah you are¡± comment and TQ was telling him to ¡°Please stop thinking about it now.¡± And then the table of friends softly devolved into a few different conversations. Anesh talking to himself about mapping the Route¡¯s spatial twists, James listening to Arrush tell him and Keeka more about how much he¡¯d enjoyed being taught how to drive on his own, and TQ asking Sarah about if he could be on her podcast to discuss coming up with car seats for camracondas. At one point, Arrush seemed to realize he¡¯d been speaking more than he normally ever did when his ratroach physiology betrayed him and he broke down wheezing. But his expanded lungs let him keep it under control, and he cut off his own sentence to instead ask Keeka an important question. ¡°What¡­ what was your week like?¡± ¡°Mine?¡± Keeka shifted and looked down forlornly at his empty glass that now lacked any trace of cider. ¡°I had some quiet days. Oh! I made a ceramic bowl! And¡­ and I talked to another new ratroach, and wasn¡¯t afraid!¡± He swelled with pride at his own small adventure. ¡°And I slept through everything horrible.¡± ¡°Yeah, hey. Question!¡± Alanna raised her hand and drew everyone¡¯s attention, having no intention of actually waiting to be called on before speaking. ¡°Keeka just said ¡®I¡¯ in the most ominous fucking way possible while also being cute as heck. What the hell happened while we were gone? I love the rest of you, but you¡¯re all being cagey too, what¡¯s going on? Did you wait until I took you out for ribs to decide to break up with me?¡± Sarah cracked a cocky grin. ¡°James, are you and Sarah pairing off and abandoning the rest of us? Does Anesh know?¡± Affecting a magnanimous tone and placing his hand over his heart in the most noble of gestures, Anesh cleared his throat and spoke. ¡°If my relationship status changes, I will support my friends and their right to self determination.¡± He intoned, and then one of him leaned over toward James. ¡°Did I say that right?¡± He asked almost conspiratorially. ¡°That¡¯s the poly motto, right?¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s ours at least.¡± James scratched at Anesh¡¯s scalp, getting a small murmur of pleasure from his boyfriend and only slightly jealous looks from the rest of his boyfriend. ¡°Uh¡­ hey, let¡¯s just be blunt here. Status Quo set a small town on fire, and we killed them.¡± ¡°What.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice hardened into a single word. ¡°They were trying to find the chanters.¡± Sarah¡¯s tone was devoid of levity. She¡¯d been partly joking even when she was ribbing Alanna for risking herself on moose-based escapades. But now, there was none of that left. ¡°So they started setting things on fire. We think they used a cooking spell they had, but we don¡¯t know how they made it so huge. And they were spreading out to do it to parts of the forest around the city.¡± James¡¯ own words were heavy. ¡°So I made a call.¡± He didn¡¯t feel good about it, but it was, at the end of the day, his call. He¡¯d said the word, and the Order had moved to fight. ¡°As of right now, Status Quo is reduced to one guy currently sedated in our medical wing who might not even have wanted to be part of them, since he was trying to run when we caught up to the third group.¡± ¡°Are you okay?¡± Anesh asked, and then looked between Sarah and Keeka. ¡°Are you two okay?¡± Sarah took a deep breath. ¡°Not really.¡± She said. ¡°Keeka wasn¡¯t involved, which is good. Anesh was around at the end for benefactor support, but also didn¡¯t go into the field.¡± ¡°I would have helped.¡± The ratroach squirmed, not sure why he felt guilty in the first place, as the two Anesh next to him wrapped comforting arms around his shoulders. ¡°Yeah, it was pretty one sided. We¡¯re all physically okay, but kinda messed up.¡± James said. ¡°But you know what? I¡¯ll take it.¡± The others looked at him with varying levels of concern and confusion. ¡°It was one sided. It was¡­ I mean, not a clean win. They killed civilians, no matter how fast Response was. But we didn¡¯t just break their organization¡¯s ability, we wiped them out. They don¡¯t bounce back from this, they don¡¯t slink off and rebuild and then take another shot at us later. They doubled down on being genocidal assholes, and now they¡¯re gone, and we have their magic pills that stop death. And I don¡¯t feel great about it, but I legitimately feel worse for the poor metal moose Arrush ran over than any of the people who were so bad we had to run a defensive action against them that involved fireballing their agents.¡± James paused to suck air through his nose, and noticed Anesh awkwardly tilting his head past him. ¡°What?¡± He asked, and turned. Their server stood with a heavy tray balanced on one hand and a plate of ribs in his other. ¡°So¡­ uh¡­ sesame ribs?¡± ¡°Oh. That was me.¡± James felt his cheeks turning bright red. ¡°...uh¡­so¡­¡± ¡°He has been standing there since you said ¡®genocidal assholes¡¯ and have you considered adding situational awareness to your training program?¡± TQ asked James with a friendly tone to his digital voice. ¡°I could teach you. I am very good at noticing things.¡± James pressed his eyes closed. ¡°Yup! Great! Thanks!¡± ¡°Hey man, I¡¯m just gonna pretend this is normal, and then ask about learning magic later.¡± The server said. ¡°Habanero barbeque?¡± ¡°Me!¡± Alanna rubbed her hands together. ¡°Someone give me my phone back before I lose the ability to touch things!¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± James muttered to the bearded server after everyone had their food and half the table had started digging into their dinners, handing the man a business card from his wallet. ¡°And to be clear, this is not me just giving in to embarrassment.¡± He got a nod in reply that was probably insincere, but no one made fun of his worst-possible-timing, so James felt like he¡¯d gotten off easy. The group, all varying levels of hungry that ranged from James not having eaten much today to Alanna apparently not having ever eaten enough in her life, tore into their food. They were all pretty used to good meals, half of them living in the Lair and the other half being there all the time anyway. But while Nate and Marjorie and the other staff of their kitchen were all good at their jobs and enhanced by a green orb that made things just a little nice, there was a level of quality that a good dedicated restaurant could reach that they didn¡¯t normally get. James¡¯ ribs, slathered in a tangy sesame sauce, were some of the best food he¡¯d had. He just didn¡¯t go to nice places that often, even now that he could afford it. And following an instinct that he was pretty sure had been installed in him by his parents when he was a kid, he instantly started trying to give away part of his food. ¡°Eat this!¡± He said, handing a torn off rib across the table to Alanna, who traded him back one of hers, which James devoured in short order. He made a similar trade to Arrush, who was using one of his smaller limbs to hold the rack of ribs in place while he gently sliced through the meat with a steak knife, and then undoing the image of an overly cautious diner by crunching through the bone of the first rib he tried. Not that he was actually capable of just eating them like they were candy bars. Everyone had almost choked on their food and refilled drinks as they¡¯d seen Arrush do that, and the mild whimper he¡¯d made had betrayed that it was a terrible idea. But he got the hang of it soon enough. ¡°So!¡± Alanna said around a mouthful of barbeque sauce. ¡°I missed something huge, and James nearly died.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Sarah cut James off before he could say anything. ¡°But he didn¡¯t, because of the power of friendship.¡± ¡°¡­so we¡¯re just saying that out loud now?¡± James asked as he tried and failed to wipe all the sauce off his fingers before grabbing his water glass. ¡°I agree, but¡­¡± Arrush nodded as he pulled a rib through the side of his triangular muzzle, curved teeth stripping the meat off with vicious efficiency and leaving lightly smoking lines of corrosion on the bone. ¡°It is¡­ why I am here. Your power lets us eat ribs.¡± He looked across the table at Keeka, and tried to force his mismatched quintet of eyes to not tear up as he watched his boyfriend. ¡°And be safe. It is a good power. I¡¯m happy I am part of it.¡± ¡°You, specifically, are part of that power in a completely unique way, by the by.¡± James reminded Arrush, the two of them connected through Clutter Ascent¡¯s style of magic to share their Breath. ¡°But also yes, Alanna, I have once again failed to die. Why, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Well, if we don¡¯t have any enemies out there¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s not even close to true.¡± Anesh tried to say as all four of him exchanged plates. Alanna pressed on, undeterred. ¡°And there isn¡¯t any big project going on¡­¡± ¡°Even I know there is work to be done and I was with you the whole week.¡± TQ tried to say as he awkwardly chewed a piece of chicken. Ignoring him, too, Alanna continued striving for her point. ¡°And you don¡¯t have any personal plans¡­¡± ¡°Are you¡­¡± Arrush tilted his head at James, antenna bobbing freely where he¡¯d had to pull his hood down to eat. ¡°Are you not doing different training plans? We are on the list together for tomorrow.¡± Fully conscious of how undermined her attempt was, Alanna barreled forward anyway. ¡°Considering all of that,¡± she made a futile attempt to impose a false reality onto the conversation, ¡°when are you planning to take a vacation?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± James, surprisingly, had a real answer for her. ¡°Next week.¡± Sarah set her fork down with a dramatic tink. ¡°Really?¡± His friend asked him. ¡°Yeah. I mean, not exactly a week from now, but around then.¡± James said with a nod, casually tearing off another rib and savoring the flavor even as he got sesame seeds stuck in his teeth. ¡°Oh.¡± Anesh was partway between relieved and slightly disappointed, since he hadn¡¯t been invited on any vacation. But then, James probably just wasn¡¯t planning to go anywhere special. Then a thought struck all four of him at once. ¡°No, wait, hang on.¡± Alanna swallowed her bit and tossed a gnawed bone onto her plate. ¡°I also just had a grim thought!¡± She announced. ¡°James! No!¡± ¡°What?¡± He asked. ¡°Do you want another one of my ribs? I don¡¯t think I should eat all of this.¡± ¡°No! I got hit by a moose earlier today, I don¡¯t need to eat that much.¡± Alanna¡¯s statement cause enough confusion to some of them that it might actually count as an assault. ¡°But you¡¯re not planning a vacation at all, you snarky fucker!¡± ¡°I¡­ I am confused!¡± Keeka¡¯s chittered squeak announced. ¡°Why are we upset with James?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not upset with James.¡± Arrush offered with an almost smug calm, his eyes closed and a small smile on his face. Alanna let out a long groan, in time with Zhu¡¯s sleepy manifestation starting to solidify around her shoulders and back as the navigator actually woke up at the end of their dinner. ¡°James is saying vacation and what he means is Officium Mundi delve.¡± Alanna informed everyone who hadn¡¯t caught on. ¡°Oh!¡± Zhu¡¯s voice spoke up for the first time as he came to himself in the middle of the conversation. ¡°We¡¯re back! Hello everyone. Are we planning an Office delve? I would love to go on an Office delve.¡± ¡°Right?¡± James grinned at his friend as Zhu¡¯s large eye formed on Alanna¡¯s bicep and pivoted around the table to lock onto him. ¡°Also welcome back! You look exhausted, which is impressive for a ghost.¡± Zhu ruffled his feathers indignantly, getting a sputter out of TQ as he accidentally flicked the camraconda¡¯s face, and an involuntary giggle out of Alanna as he tickled along her back. ¡°I am not a ghost. We¡¯ve talked about this!¡± ¡°We¡¯ve also talked about you doing that!¡± Alanna twisted to reach around and scratch at her back. ¡°Come on! Also help me convince James to take a break!¡± ¡°No?¡± Zhu sounded confused. ¡°Absolutely not. That sounds like a losing fight. And I want to see Officium Mundi again.¡± ¡°You could come with me!¡± Alanna said. ¡°No, because you actually are taking a break.¡± Sarah told her with a kind of confident authority that James was prepared to believe that was going to work. And before Alanna could protest, added, ¡°You got trampled by a moose, you goober! Also, I¡¯m not going into the Office, and I wanna spend time with you!¡± Which were magic words that seemed to get Alanna resigned to sitting the next delve out. She still looked at James with worried eyes. ¡°Okay, okay. But man¡­ you¡¯re not pushing too hard, are you?¡± Alanna asked him. ¡°I might be.¡± James said. ¡°But¡­ I think I can push a little harder now than I could before. And I think it¡¯s important. We need to go faster. We weren¡¯t there in time this time, for a lot of people. But¡­ well, there¡¯s more Status Quos out there. There¡¯s more problems we want to solve. And I don¡¯t think sitting in a basement learning how to summon bath towels is gonna get us there.¡± He sighed deeply, annoyed that that wasn¡¯t the solution, no matter how boring it was. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna fight the whole world, not, like, in a battle. But we are going to have to prove the strength of our ideas. And that gets a lot easier if we¡¯ve got more weird dungeontech, and more skill ranks, and more friends.¡± ¡°Wait, we¡¯re not going to fight the world?¡± TQ asked. ¡°I was practicing though.¡± James shook with silent laughter as the others slowly stared at the camraconda. ¡°I kinda want to know what that means. But yeah, no. Some people might hate us, but a lot of people are gonna love what we start building in the near future. And you know what? I was wrong.¡± ¡°Uh oh.¡± Anesh all said at once before one of him kept going. ¡°That¡¯s a problem, because I put utter uncompromising trust in everything you said, and I¡¯m a bit mucked if you got it wrong.¡± All four of him drained the last of their beers, like they¡¯d practiced the movement a million times. Keeka asked the question everyone else was curious about. ¡°What did you get wrong?¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s not us, is it?¡± ¡°Oh, fuck no.¡± James said, reassuring the lithe ratroach with a single short sentence. ¡°We¡¯ve always wanted to save people. And you were people who needed saving, and I have never regretted anything less than bringing people out of the dungeon and giving them real homes. That goes for you, too, TQ. And Zhu. And anyone else.¡± He shook his head. ¡°A long time ago¡­ before most of us met, I guess¡­ I said that I wanted to pull in enough magic to make a new place. To start fresh, with our own ideas in charge. And you know what? That was stupid.¡± James shrugged as he cast off something that had been a guiding star for his Big Plans for a while now. ¡°The world exists. Not just our world, but the worlds of the dungeons, too. There are people in all of them, and ideas in action, and yeah, some of it¡¯s shit. But we can¡¯t just hit the reset button and pretend that¡¯ll fix everything. And I think I was a fucking idiot for ever believing that.¡± ¡°¡­you¡¯re not giving up, are you?¡± Alanna sounded so small in that moment. Just completely disappointed, like she¡¯d just been failed by the most important thing in her world. ¡°Psh.¡± James chopped a hand through the air. ¡°Absolutely not.¡± He briefly widened his eyes as he realized how Alanna was looking at him, before shaking his head vigorously. ¡°No, no, I¡¯m not giving up. I still think we should build stuff and change things. I just think that we should stop thinking of it as a big do-over for all eight billion people on the planet.¡± ¡°Hi, sorry, I just got here.¡± Zhu¡¯s deep orange light dripped like water as he pulled a feathered arm out from Alanna¡¯s side and waved it. ¡°What does this have to do with the delve that we are absolutely going on?¡± ¡°Oh. Right. I mean, I want more magic so we can change more things for the better.¡± James chuckled and dipped his head. ¡°Sorry! I kinda made that melodramatic for no reason!¡± ¡°I am into it.¡± TQ reassured him. ¡°Yes.¡± Arrush added with a coughing laugh, covering his muzzle with several hands to make sure he didn¡¯t accidentally drip on anyone. Alanna sighed and leaned back, putting her hands behind her head as she stared at James. ¡°You¡¯re fucking impossible, buddy.¡± She told him. ¡°But also I love ya. And I¡¯ll keep an eye on stuff while you¡¯re off exploring.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not gone yet.¡± James reminded her. ¡°Now. Do we wanna pay for our food and go on a walk or something? We¡¯re actually not too far from our real life apartment, if we wanna head back there. We have ice cream in the freezer!¡± ¡°I cannot fit ice cream in me!¡± Keeka¡¯s voice was an exaggerated gasp. James nodded in understanding. ¡°Imagine if we¡¯d gotten fries.¡± He said quietly, getting a flush of neon green from Keeka. Their group readied themselves to leave, chatting about nothing in particular as they went through the process of flagging down their server, getting the bill, and figuring out how many orbs was an appropriate tip. Anesh, eternally feeling guilty about making work for waitstaff, tried to straighten up their table and neatly stack all the plates, while Alanna and Arrush went about draining every water glass that had a drop left in it, and TQ made the mistake of trying some of Alanna¡¯s abandoned alcohol, his camera eye lensing closed as he tasted it with a snap so abrupt James worried he¡¯d hurt himself. On the way out, as they filed between tables and booths in single file, getting a few odd looks among the casual conversation of the mundane humans that filled the restaurant, only a single person thought to voice a shitty opinion when Keeka passed his table. He got as far as ¡°what a fuc-¡° before he stopped abruptly, and it looked like no one noticed who he was glaring at or that he¡¯d started raising his voice at all. Outside, as TQ turned his head back toward the rest of the group, James leaned down to the camraconda. ¡°That was probably wrong.¡± He muttered. ¡°But thanks.¡± ¡°It was that or bite him.¡± TQ spoke back softly. ¡°And I am full. Also I don¡¯t know what asshole tastes like but I do not want to find out like that.¡± ¡°¡­I¡­am going to exercise restraint¡­ and not say anything about that.¡± James nodded as he straightened back up. ¡°So! Ice cream! And all we have to do is walk two and a half miles that way!¡± ¡°You said you lived nearby!¡± Keeka chittered. ¡°That¡¯s so far! That¡¯s the farthest!¡± ¡°Sorry buddy,¡± Alanna ruffled his antenna and head fur, ¡°you¡¯re spoiled by living in a building that has everything you need and also pottery classes I guess. Out here, us plebs have to hike.¡± Anesh gave a quick shrug. ¡°I could carry you?¡± He offered Keeka. And then thought about what he¡¯d just said. ¡°Not¡­ not comfortably. I think if each of me takes a limb¡­¡± Keeka dodged behind Arrush with an inhuman spring of dexterity from his digitigrade legs, skirt whooshing behind him. ¡°¡­or we can just walk normally!¡± The conversation fell into laughter and levity and talk of magic as they started heading home. Ideas for the future, and moments of past adventures they¡¯d been wanting to share with each other. James showed off that he could summon a snow cat while they were waiting for a crosswalk, and the cat promptly sprinted into the bushes and vanished, which was a little awkward. He let it have its own little adventure for the night. Alanna and James clasped hands at one point, letting Zhu bridge back to the person he was most comfortable in. And Anesh got in a quiet talk with himself about describing scenery and then showing images of it, to see if his own words were effective. When they arrived at their apartment, everyone took turns petting the drooling midnight-black pit bull that was waiting on the doorstep before going inside and taking turns petting the waiting Auberdeen. And then night ended slowly, trailing off to nothing in particular, and being exactly what James hadn¡¯t known he¡¯d needed. Something loving and warm and not entirely effortless, but with no judgment for the small mistakes. Also he and Arrush ended up standing next to each other in the kitchen when Keeka took a chance and kissed an Anesh, and both James and his ratroach friend ended up practically vibrating through the floor as they restrained themselves from commenting, instead just sharing silly smiles and slinking back out of sight. It was an excellent night. And it was the perfect refreshing time to have before he struck back out to find new places, new creatures, and new magic. Because no matter how much his life got better and better, no matter what changes James made to the world, no matter how good things got¡­ Officium Mundi was always waiting for him. Chapter 266 ¡°Everything¡¯s a threat but we have to act!¡± -Lance, Dimension 20 : Mentopolis- _____ ¡°It¡¯s actually good to be back.¡± James extended his arms out ahead of him, cracking his knuckles dramatically as delvers moved around him. A pack of people, off on their own small tasks, or perhaps like him taking a small moment to stare up at the distant artificial horizon of Officium Mundi. James had been in a few dungeons in his time. And putting aside just how bizarre of a sentence that was, there was something special about the Office. Not just because it was his first dungeon, and the spark that lit off the bonfire his life had become, but something in how it looked. How it smelled and sounded, too. Just how it felt to be there. In the Route, there was a clean line at the end of the road. Sometimes the terrain got weird, and it always looked like it was nowhere in particular rather than mimicking a specific part of a real world landscape, but mostly it was just big and empty. In the Akashic Sewer, it was twisted and intentionally terrifying, but it was dark and cramped and didn¡¯t leave a lot of room for examination. Clutter Ascent was the polar opposite in mood, but it lived up to its name and actually had stuff blocking most lines of sight, which left it feeling cozy, but also hard to know the limits of. And the Climb just kept throwing snowstorms at anyone who thought too hard about visibility. But here? Here was a bounty for anyone who wanted to see how weird it got. Cubicles of differing heights covered the carpeted ground ahead of them, starting about twenty feet in from the wall that the entrance was on, and then never stopping. Before too long, every potential line of sight was blocked off by the taller walls, except for the straight aisles that drew narrow lines through them until they ran into intersections somewhere between fifty and five thousand feet in. But that wasn¡¯t the end of what a person could see; if you looked up over where even the tallest walls in the starting field capped out at maybe eight feet, it was possible to see towers of cubicles in the distance. Massive stacks of layered workstations, occupied only by bizarre life and never once used for a job. And past those, far in the distance, the clear air made it possible to see where the ground sloped upward in a gentle curve before rising into the sky and vanishing behind the ceiling. It was a bizarre effect. The ceiling tiles, which the Order knew to actually be suspended platforms with their own unique ecosystem going on, cut through the vision of the dungeon almost out of nowhere. And for a moment of watching, James felt like he was seeing two things at once, before he blinked and his eyes could only focus on the white lights overhead, and he had to start back at the bottom and follow the arc upward again. From here, details were impossible to make out. It was never clear how far away it was that they were looking; Mars had tried a laser range finder and gotten back mixed results. Which was not exactly what you wanted from a precision instrument. But there were thin lines that James was pretty sure were walls; not cubicle walls, but the hefty thick interior walls that sometimes cordoned off chunks of Officium Mundi. And a dark blot that might be something like the ocean of ink. If it was, and it was a similar size, that would mean that he was looking ¡®down¡¯ on parts of the dungeon that were maybe two hundred miles away, at a guess. James felt small. Tiny. And this was the sensation that Officium Mundi generated. More even than Route Horizon with its twin stars and eternal roads, which was almost certainly geographically ¡®larger¡¯, the Office made him feel like a moth staring up at the inner workings of the Hoover dam, and wondering what made it tick. For the moment, he was looking up at something he couldn¡¯t understand but could feel in something so deep inside that it couldn¡¯t possibly be as fragile as a biological part. He was looking at the future, and he was looking at the end, and he was looking at everything he ever wanted and feared all at once. This place that he¡¯d slipped into by accident, that James planned to turn into a lever by which he could move the world, covered the sky in raw potential. Then his eyes slipped and he was looking at the ceiling again. A flock of loose white paper fluttered by in a nonexistent breeze, crumpled and folded edges sharper than they should be, not a care in their minds for the vastness of the weird world that had made them. James smiled to no one in particular, though a few of the people nearby saw him anyway, and understood. Then he shook off the sense of being a tiny insect on a vast machine, and went to help double check their supplies before they really started moving. _____ The team leaders for the expedition held a meeting around the base of the tower near the door. The stacked cubicles were still ¡®safe¡¯ as far as the Order could tell, with the dungeon not touching any of the gear they stored there. To be safe, though, they¡¯d stopped using it as storage anyway. ¡°Owning a whole ass building is really convenient.¡± Myles commented as he rolled his shoulder, the last of their group to gather. ¡°How did you guys ever do this before without getting noticed?¡± ¡°To be fair, I got noticed multiple times.¡± James told him with a nostalgic shrug. ¡°I have this vague memory of Theo sorta-blackmailing me over ¡®stealing¡¯ a coffee machine? And Frank obviously knew. And¡­ Daniel, did you ever notice me being weird? Before the whole-¡° Daniel cut him off. ¡°Before the kidnapping and attempted murder thing, right.¡± He said it quickly, like if he went fast enough, it would hurt less. ¡°Yes. But not¡­ I mean, I just thought you were a weirdo.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± James pressed his eyes closed and laughed. ¡°Okay. So. Before Daniel dive kicks my ego by accident, let¡¯s get this started.¡± He clapped his hands, the protective gloves hanging off his wrists bouncing in the air. ¡°Anyone not know anyone else here?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight tilted her boxy camera head back, rising up to the highest she could get. ¡°Hello!¡± The camraconda said with digital vibrant energy while staring at Myles. ¡°Frequency-Of Sunlight. Are you new?¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯ve been here for a year and a half.¡± Myles sounded defeated. ¡°Oh. What¡­ what were you doing?¡± Sunny tried to cover for her social blunder. Myles couldn¡¯t actually tell if he was being made fun of or not. ¡°I was learning how to be a spy, I guess.¡± The words gave Frequency back a little confidence. ¡°Oh! Well you were very good at it! I had no idea who you were!¡± Daniel and Pathfinder nudged a shared elbow into James¡¯ arm. ¡°And you were worried about your ego.¡± He muttered. ¡°I¡¯m worried I¡¯m gonna die to splash damage from that.¡± James whispered back, before raising his voice. ¡°Okay! Enough banter! Let¡¯s make sure we¡¯re all on the same page. And since Anesh has delegated being in charge to me, I get to run this final briefing.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t we just going in a straight line?¡± Mars asked, the lanky engineer speaking up for the first time. ¡°Also Nate made us sit through the whole explanation of protocols and stuff yesterday.¡± ¡°Good.¡± James replied in a flat voice. ¡°Because that¡¯s how we do this without casualties. So far, no one has died on an intentional delve, and we¡¯re gonna keep it that way.¡± He shifted his stance on the hard carpet, wishing he had a desk to lean on. ¡°And no, we aren¡¯t just going straight in. I¡¯ve got a rough outline, and we¡¯re not married to this, but we have a curving path designed to take us to a few specific points, before we cross the first dividing wall. After that, we¡¯re going to be going in mostly a straight line, yes.¡± The others nodded, since they¡¯d already read the document, but it was good to say it out loud just to make sure no one had missed anything. ¡°Can I just¡­¡± Daniel raised a hand wreathed in glowing orange feathers. ¡°Can I say that it just seems like a gross idea to say we¡¯re going to ¡®raid a bathroom¡¯? Is that okay?¡± ¡°Yes. Any further questions?¡± James paused for a brief time that was not enough for anyone to interject. ¡°Great. So, as Daniel mentioned, we¡¯re starting with the bathroom we know about. We have enough navigator support to cut through the antimeme around that one, and I want to take advantage of it. Especially since now that we¡¯ve been deeper into the Stacks, I think it¡¯s likely the bathroom spire is similar to the super secure vault we found there. So we¡¯re going in to grab what¡¯s at the bottom, and then moving on. After that, we curve ¡®east¡¯ for about six miles, until we hit the ink ocean. There¡¯s a bunch of stuff there to check out, including stocking up on purples.¡± ¡°How are we handling loot?¡± Myles asked as he tapped the toe of a sneaker on the floor in an idle motion. ¡°Because I remember the Library, and we got overburdened pretty fast there.¡± ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got less water on this run for one thing.¡± James said, looking over at where the foldable cloth carts they were using were lined up. ¡°Since we can replenish in the dungeon, and also because I overshot the estimate last time. But also, telepads.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight made a hissing gag. ¡°Teleporting out of this place is horrible though!¡± She declared. ¡°Couldn¡¯t we just give up instead?¡± ¡°¡­no? No.¡± James felt like everyone was being a little too casual about this. Maybe the Office had become familiar enough to get some good contempt going in everyone¡¯s minds. ¡°Besides, you can telepad within the dungeon just fine. As far as we know, you can only go back to the one stable ¡®address¡¯, which is the tower here, but that¡¯s fine. The tentative plan is to recruit friendly dungeon life to act as couriers for us, or send back anyone who¡¯s injured. It¡¯s also our escape route if things go bad. Anyway, moving on.¡± He checked his list. ¡°We¡¯ve got three days set aside for those two initial goals, and then we want to be crossing the first wall. Kirk¡¯s team will be coming through the ceiling entry, and exploring up there, and so we want to be in position to link up with them when that happens. And from there, it¡¯s a straight line in. Now are there questions?¡± ¡°How many diversions are you okay with?¡± Mars asked. ¡°Because my team is exclusively people from Research, and we¡¯re gonna want to poke everything.¡± ¡°Lots.¡± James said. ¡°It should be two hours to the first goal even with the large group, and maybe we can make the beach by the end of the day. After that we have a lot of free time before we need to cross the big wall, and we can use that on anything we want, as long as individual teams are within a close area. We do want to be checking every tower we find for coffee and rituals, so giving you guys time to map totems or whatever is part of the whole operation.¡± Mars nodded as James finished, stroking his chin in thought. ¡°Alright. Everyone go get geared up if you aren¡¯t already, and let¡¯s move out. Sunny, I want you to double check with your team on those earrings just to be safe, okay? And tell us if you feel like you need to leave.¡± The camraconda gave a sibilant sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, dad.¡± ¡°Nope.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Not doing that. I can¡¯t keep adopting everyone.¡± He took his own advice and followed them to where the larger group was starting to gather. James didn¡¯t shout orders, but he didn¡¯t really need to; they had a shared objective, and what was really needed was just the right coordination to get things moving. Making sure everyone was equipped, in the right spots, and heading out in unison. He took a brief detour to kiss Anesh goodbye, two copies of his boyfriend staying behind at the tower while one came along on the journey. The fourth Anesh had decided to stay home, utterly drained from a solid week of a hostile road trip, which was fair. And then James found himself at the vanguard of a caravan of delvers. He felt light, almost; forgoing at least for now a lot of the heavier equipment that he had been training in for the last couple weeks. He wasn¡¯t armed with anything more than a pistol and a hatchet, his armor was back to being a half-covering of Kevlar lined shell and not ballistic plates, and he was only wearing two shield bracers under it all. It had been a while since he¡¯d been somewhere as dangerous as a dungeon that felt as safe as the Office. But he didn¡¯t let himself get complacent; in his mind he rotated through the host of spells he had access to, and primed himself to use anything he needed in case it came up. ¡°That feels like someone flipping between radio stations, you know?¡± Zhu told him, the navigator unfurling his tail and feathered arms in a kind of casual embrace. ¡°And then you¡¯re going to settle on your personal playlist anyway.¡± ¡°Well, to be fair,¡± James told his friend with a grin, ¡°my music is really well selected.¡± Zhu rustled himself aggressively, proofing up his ethereal orange feathers in indignation. ¡°You listen almost exclusively to three different bands!¡± James let the challenge to his tastes slide off his armor. ¡°Yeah, well selected bands.¡± His smile never wavered. ¡°You ready?¡± ¡°Always.¡± Zhu said, the joking fading away, replaced by quiet excitement for the trip ahead and the trials that were sure to meet them. ¡°Let¡¯s go find some magic.¡± _____ Long Delve Roadmap - Officium Mundi - Roster Exploration Team One : James (Zhu accompanying) Arrush Anesh -Ganesh JP Bea Exploration Team Two : Frequency-Of-Sunlight Alex Harvey (Chell accompanying) Simon -Magneto Exploration Team Three : Myles Tyrone Marlea Exploration Team Four : Daniel (Pathfinder accompanying) Ben Vadik Dave Camp Support Group : Keeka Deb (Mercy accompanying) Aaron (Mercy accompanying) Camille Research Group : Mars Nikhail (Aidamy accompanying) Peng Davis Nile Juan Thermoclese Ceiling Exploration Team : Kirk (Harriet accompanying) Chevoy Mark Home Base Group : Anesh Anesh Matt Rho _____ There were about twenty different ways that real world businesses arranged cubicles when they used that kind of workspace. Many of them were call centers of some kind, and all of them had a kind of inevitable depressive vibe to them. The most common way was pods of six. A single central wall, and a few smaller walls through that one that carved it up into individual work stations. Desk, computer, ready to go. Slightly less common were pods of four, usually higher walls and with doors facing out to different hallways. Depending on where the bathroom was, you might never know who it was on the other side of the pod from you, you just wouldn¡¯t run into them. And of course, there was the rarely used but classic endless hallway; cubicle after cubicle all neatly arranged, long lines of the little close off boxes stretching off for long enough that employees would inevitably start to wonder if it was really that effective a use of space. Officium Mundi knew all twenty methods, and had twisted permutations of each of them. Of course, the cubicles never stopped, naturally. So everywhere sort of looked like an endless line of them, where there were unbroken lines of sight. But within that, there was ample room for experimentation. The pod of eight, where it looked like the walls kept getting higher the farther you went, but in reality they were like steps and the only way to even reach the higher ones was to climb the escalating desks. The enclosure, where what should be a pod of four had a secret fifth cubicle in the center somehow, a cleanly cut bubble of space where the best loot was the orange totem to take notes on. Clusters of cubicles in arcs around pillars or walls, groups set into recessed parts of the floor for no reason other than to be a tripping hazard, the disconnected pods that didn¡¯t belong to other groups around them but were clearly visible for how they accentuated and guided the halls that delvers walked through, and usually funneled them into potted plants. Myles knew none of them. He¡¯d seen the maps, and the pictures. He knew what they all looked like, and the tactical responses for each of them. He¡¯d run through two weeks of Nate¡¯s training drills in the Lair¡¯s remodeled parking lot specifically to learn how to react quickly to varied threats in this kind of environment. But he¡¯d never been here before like this. Never walked through a landscape that was only grey and beige, lit from overhead by white lights so bright they¡¯d scar your eyes if you stared too long. Never been this deep in the environment that he knew that no matter what he did, if he got turned around, the only way out would be by telepad. And if he lost that, he was going to end up Robinson Crusoe-ing his way through building a fort out of salvaged felt padded walls and surviving off of weird vending machine drinks and the inexplicably spawned containers of leftover pasta. Myles didn¡¯t go too deep on thinking about the dungeons. He knew they were real, because he¡¯d been inside a few now. He knew magic was real, because the Order used magic. But it had become a pretty simple tool for him rather quickly. Maybe because he¡¯d originally spent so long without it, working alongside people like JP, meeting other species, but staying mundane so that he might have a better chance of actually sneaking up on a pillar if they needed someone to. By the time he finally got magic, and even then by accident, it just didn¡¯t feel that overwhelming. So when he walked through the halls of Officium Mundi, his team taking their turn to go first and scout as the others kept up the steady pace that would quickly bring them to their first objective, he didn¡¯t feel like it was a mystical realm full of potential. It was just a place. Like walking through an old forest, or a new city, it had a lot of unique things to show him. But Myles regularly had friends over to his apartment that was a replicated copy of a custom made luxury space, with an air conditioning and electrical system powered by magic, where moving a couch in only took ten steps from the entrance despite being on the third floor. So he wasn¡¯t really impressed with the Office. The whole place felt almost organic. Like individual pieces that weren¡¯t quite as sharply defined as they could be. Which left him on guard for when Officium Mundi pulled out the actual threats that must surely be waiting in the wings, even as he was almost unimpressed with the geography around them. He still thought it was cool though. _____ In a cleared semicircle of hard carpet, a large motley crew settled in to take a rest. A few cubicles had been pulled apart and moved back, giving a little more space, and chairs and desks swiped from those spaces were being used to relax in for some of the people who weren¡¯t used to three mile hikes. Ahead of them, a massive spire of blue and white tile rose into the air. Like a slowly narrowing trapezoid, it pushed aside the ceiling tiles overhead as it just kept going up and up and up, a skyscraper without a sky to reach. The lights of some of the parts of the ceiling, still working despite being knocked out of place, illuminated the sides of the pillar with a clean white glow. There had been several hostile potted plants around the area, but nothing grew or pretended to grow on the structure; it was almost aggressively sterile on the outside. At the base of it, slightly recessed so as to seem more like a cave mouth, two doors announced ¡°men¡± and ¡°women¡±. It had taken them about two hours to get to the bathrooms, as the expedition attracted a lot of attention with its size, and they needed to be careful and quiet to not attract a swarm that could pose a threat to even their large group. And also periodically get support from their infomorphs, every time something made them forget the bathroom was a thing they were heading toward. But they were here now, and were starting to prepare for what might actually be the most dangerous part of the whole week, right at the start. ¡°I instantly feel like this is a terrible way to start this delve.¡± James said out loud as Anesh checked his climbing harness, his boyfriend pulling on different straps and asking him questions about tightness and flexibility. On his shoulder, a small bat-like form perched, Ganesh riding along with his friend for the first time in a long time. ¡°Just like a very silly plan, now that we¡¯re actually here.¡± ¡°We¡¯re three miles deep, you dumbass. Are you being influenced again?¡± JP asked as he shifted his shoulders back and forth to see if his own harness had settled on his armor properly. There was a tradeoff to be made between protection from being hit and protection from falling to your death, which was unfortunate, and led to them splitting the difference in a way that would hopefully stop both. ¡°Zhu, poke him.¡± JP ordered. Zhu did so, as James tried to stoically ignore his navigator partner. Zhu¡¯s arm had its own connection to their shared climbing harness, as did the long feathered tail that extended behind James. There was another slot in the straps for where James preferenced manifesting the ice limb from his Climb spell when he needed it, just to make sure his weight could be distributed as evenly as possible. He was ready to go, from the looks of things, but he still wanted to complain lightly. ¡°I¡¯m just saying.¡± James kept talking as Zhu failed to get a reaction from him. ¡°The last time we went in there, I ended up damp. I know we all brought spare socks, but no one wants to start a delve damp.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± Arrush¡¯s voice was still a wet rasp, with the occasional click in his words from how his throat worked, but right now, he wasn¡¯t having any problems with airflow. The purple orb that grew him lung chambers was on the part of its growth cycle where he could breathe freely, not needing to resort to panting or gasping with heavy exercise or even casual conversation. ¡°I can¡¯t fit in socks.¡± ¡°We could make you some socks?¡± James offered, wondering if that was an option. ¡°Or at the very least we could refit some socks for you. Wait, do you want socks?¡± Arrush looked down at himself. Under his climbing harness and lighter distributed armor pieces, he was just wearing the magically fitted dry suit that he had used for the Winter¡¯s Climb, a few parts of it stitched back together where some holes had been made. The material hugged his footpaws snugly around the individual claws that poked out, under which a fused velcro strip held a durable rubber sole in place against the bottom of his long chitinous limbs. ¡°No.¡± He decided. ¡°They would not last long on me. Not yet.¡± ¡°Not yet.¡± James echoed, grinning a little at the tall ratroach and getting a nervous shuffle from Arrush. It had taken Arrush a little time to decide, and it was still kinda funny to James that Arrush would rather face peril in a dungeon than let himself change, but after this delve, his friend was going to be going through with remaking his body to something that wouldn¡¯t hurt all the time, or melt anything he drooled on by accident. And while James was smiling, there wasn¡¯t a world that existed where he¡¯d even think of making a joke about that kind of big personal step. ¡°Anyway! Are we all ready?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Bea spoke up for the first time, and James jolted as he realized the potion girl had circled to behind him at some point without him noticing. She really did just fade from notice when unobserved; not in a magical way, just in a casual shift of body language. ¡°I¡¯m good to go.¡± JP said. ¡°Though if you wanna take some time to make out with anyone here, I can wait. I¡¯ve got nowhere to be.¡± Anesh snorted and shook his head. ¡°You know we don¡¯t have to be friends with you anymore. We¡¯ve got options for the position of rude boy.¡± ¡°Yeah, but none of them are as charming as me.¡± JP grinned back, winking at Anesh and getting an eye roll in return. But it was a disarmed one, and he knew it. ¡°So, glorious leader, what¡¯s the plan? Any last minute dramatic changes for the purpose of being the giant ham you long to transform into?¡± James nodded as they moved toward the doors, other groups shifting around them. Especially when he raised a hand to wave at Frequency and her team, calling them into motion. ¡°First of all, if I transform into anything, it¡¯s not gonna be a ham.¡± He told JP. ¡°But yeah, nothing new. We go first, the others are going to help us sweep the first platform, then cover us as we descend. Sunny, you doing okay on time?¡± ¡°Yep!¡± The camraconda leading her own exploration team called back. ¡°I¡¯ve done the math! I¡¯m not being noticed very much at all! I¡¯ll be good for a few hours before I have to swap.¡± ¡°Great.¡± James nodded. ¡°Anesh, orb check?¡± ¡°What, right here?¡± His boyfriend said almost reflexively before a blush stained his cheeks and he tired to pretend he hadn¡¯t just said that. ¡°Ah, right, yep. Eight uses of a blue power for [Manipulate Linoleum], if we end up needing it.¡± He poked the living drone on his shoulder as they got into position. ¡°Hey little guy. You stay up here, okay?¡± Ganesh gave him a little buzz of his rotor wings before launching upward, sending Anesh¡¯s short hair fluttering briefly as the drone moved to land on a desk and see them off. Arrush tilted his head up proudly, adding his own first absorbed blue. ¡°I have six for [Rearrange Light Source]. I¡­ don¡¯t know when to use it.¡± His triangular muzzle dipped back down and all his eyes flicked away from everyone. ¡°But I have it?¡± James ran a gloved hand reassuringly along Arrush¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And that¡¯s cool, and now we know if it¡¯s relevant. Alright.¡± He raised his voice, not to a yell, but loud enough to be heard by everyone in the area that wasn¡¯t coming with them. ¡°We¡¯re heading in now. Hold down the fort here, and we¡¯ll be back with something stupid in no time.¡± None of the other delvers did anything as dumb as cheer them on and risk loud noise this deep into a dungeon, but James saw a lot of smiles and limbs raised in either waves or shooing gestures. ¡°Great. Okay. Time for something stupid.¡± He took a deep breath, and advanced on the doors, heading for the men¡¯s room without thinking about it. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. The door swung open easily, the only resistance to the group filing in was the vague uncomfortable social feeling that you weren¡¯t actually supposed to take a whole party of adventurers into a bathroom together. A shining linoleum floor and blue and white tile walls greeted them. To the left, a line of tall urinals sat sunken in the pristine tiles, while the right had a line of sinks with rectangular mirrors on the wall over them. Overhead, there was a contained fluorescent light every five feet until suddenly there wasn¡¯t, and the ceiling was simply gone, a break like a fault line running through it and shearing it off. Part of the floor extended past the ceiling, with the weird effect that the most exposed part of the room was cast in shadow from the lack of direct light. Then the floor ended too, and beyond that, they all knew, was a central column of open space waiting to try to kill them. They walked carefully. The floor was shining because it was slick. The sinks were all on, and water was pouring over their edges, splashing to the floor to form a thin layer before it poured over the far edge. James guided his team in along the left side, watching the mirrors carefully as Frequency-Of-Sunlight slithered in next and moved aside, focusing on the first mirror in the row. They got maybe ten steps in before things started pouring out of the mirrors. Like shards of silver porcelain, two front legs like fangs and a skittering row of smaller limbs propelling them, little mutated hand-sized silverfish started pouring out of the mirrors in a cascade and splashing into the sinks before they filled those too and began to head for the intruders. ¡°Nope!¡± Sunny called at them. ¡°Not stopping it!¡± She announced as she failed to freeze the first mirror from what it was doing. Not that they were relying on that; it was just a quick test, and this was going to be the easiest part of all this. As Simon and Harvey followed in behind her in deliberate steps, the two men leveled pistols with highly illegal silencers on them and shot out all three mirrors. Everyone flinched, because silenced pistols were still fucking loud, but the shattering of the spawning portals also caused a wave of cracks and decay to flow out through the bugs they¡¯d created. Not all of the ceramic silverfish died, but the ones that were left were easy to mop up. Myles shook water off the yellow and orange orbs that had fountained out of the broken spawners before putting them in a pouch, while everyone else got to work turning off the sinks and clearing this upper platform of water. Making sure he wasn¡¯t about to fall, James stepped over to the edge, Arrush right behind him, and looked down, regretting this immensely. Twenty feet down and mostly offset from them, an open platform of tiny white tiles floated, like a piece of wall turned sideways. It was at a slight angle, deflecting a waterfall that came from overhead, but it was the closest thing they could probably stand on. It wasn¡¯t the only platform either; there were dozens of them, a spiral of broken fragments of walls and floors, some of them with their own sinks or toilets spewing more water out, some not part of the chain of waterfalls that filled the air. Farther down, shapes moved with intention through the open sky contained within the column of space; birds, maybe, or something pretending to be birds. In places, streamers of water seemed to fall forever with no source or end point. And on some of the platforms lower on the spiral, other things moved around with inhuman steps. ¡°Is now a bad time to say I¡¯m afraid of heights?¡± James asked. ¡°¡­yes?!¡± Arrush stared at him. ¡°Why are you here?¡± ¡°I¡¯m kind of an idiot.¡± James nodded thoughtfully. ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± Zhu sighed, rustling feathers against the shell of armor James was wearing. ¡°He¡¯s very good at putting himself in situations no one is going to enjoy, and avoiding the ones everyone would like.¡± The navigator¡¯s large eye manifested on James¡¯ shoulder pivoted to look at Arrush. ¡°Of course, you are also here, standing on the edge, so maybe this is just an Order thing.¡± ¡°You are worse to yourself then you would ever let anyone be to me.¡± Arrush told James, and then poked lightly at the space under Zhu¡¯s eye. ¡°You are here too.¡± He reminded the navigator. ¡°I¡¯m stuck with James.¡± Zhu sounded almost resigned. James pushed back on that instantly. ¡°Okay, hang on! We know you can leave now! You¡¯re here on purpose and you know it! Stop being so dramatic and let me be terrified in peace!¡± He tried to take a deep and balancing breath, but all he could smell was the lingering scents of a company bathroom. Bleach and mildew and humidity and just a little bit of the impression that the place wasn¡¯t actually clean. ¡°No one get cut anywhere.¡± He muttered idly, thinking about infections. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this.¡± The last of the water was pushed off the platform, and heavy construction clamps were put into place on the edges of the walls, and then tested with as much weight as they could to make sure they were going to hold. Climbing ropes were threaded through them, and Harvey showed off his pitching skills from a past life by taking a calm stance and then hurling an attached grappling hook out into the void, landing it perfectly on the nearest platform below. It still slipped off, and it took him two more tries to get it hooked into the pipes coming off the back of a sink that rose out of the platform from what would be their ¡®floor¡¯ when they landed. James, feeling like an idiot for agreeing to it, clipped his harness to the rope, and held tight as he pulled his full weight up to make sure it wasn¡¯t going to fall. Before he could consider how monumentally bad an idea this was, his feet were in the air, and he was sliding down at a controlled speed toward the next platform. He landed awkwardly, pulled one of the heavy screw clamps out of his pack, and affixed it to the slick edge tighter than any grappling hook could ever latch on, before moving the rope over. His hands shook the whole time, and he nearly fumbled the knots despite having a skill rank in them. Or maybe he didn¡¯t, it was getting hard to tell where half his knowledge came from. Maybe, his mind rambled at him as he tried to not think about the drop, it was just repressed memories from being in the Boy Scouts coming back to the fore in his time of need. JP landed next, sliding slightly in a way that he made look casual but that probably caused a rush of adrenaline as he tipped toward the wet edge, barely avoiding the spout of water from overhead. Arrush landed by almost crashing into the platform, which mercifully didn¡¯t tilt it at all, and then crawling up seeming unharmed. Anesh needed to be grabbed, while Bea landed mechanically, and then just stopped like she¡¯d been hit by a camraconda look. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s one.¡± James said out loud. ¡°That was actually fun.¡± JP rubbed his gloved hands together eagerly. ¡°I should get some ziplines set up for rogue training.¡± ¡°¡­for real training, or as an excuse to play with ziplines?¡± Anesh asked. JP just gave Anesh a placid smirk. ¡°Please.¡± He said. ¡°So, next one?¡± The next one was a challenge because they had to drop from the upper lip of the slanted piece of floating structure they were on to avoid the waterfall, but they made it down okay, repeating the motion of using construction clamps on the seemingly unmoving platforms to secure their ropes. They¡¯d brought a lot of rope for this. After that was a straight line across to a chunk of overturned bathroom stalls, a thirty foot heart stopping shimmy across a rope connecting the two as they got into position to drop farther down the spiral toward the center. Arrush had gone first that time, being somehow the lightest of them all, and least likely to pry the grappling hook off its catch point on the metal. He¡¯d gotten about five feet from landing on the door of one of the stalls when one of the tan metal doors had burst open and a domed mass of black sludge had erupted out. Its surface was studded in thumbtacks, paperclips, and broken pencils, and its front opened up like a maw as it lunged for Arrush, disregarding the drop entirely. James [Paved] it, burning all his velocity in one shot of the spell to slap the thing aside. He was pretty sure Anesh did the same thing, while a pair of rifle shots rang out from overhead, and the sludge beast froze anyway from Frequency¡¯s overwatch. The bullets and spells hit its unmoving mass and cratered it, divots forming that quickly stilled as the camraconda¡¯s magic kept it in place. Arrush scrambled his paws in the air to find purchase on the rotated stalls, and crawled away from the thing, holding a protective arm up over his face and a pistol facing out through his crouch. Once he was stable, Sunny let the pile of crap go, and the impacts finished their work, ripping chunks of out of it in disgusting splashes before momentum carried it over the side. ¡°Well shit.¡± JP said, dropping to one knee near the edge of their platform and watching it fall away. James sighed. ¡°Just for that, you get to go next.¡± He said as he raised a thumbs up to be seen by their cover from the upper level. He watched cautiously over the low ¡®wall¡¯ that formed a lip on their current piece of footing, just to make sure the gunshots weren¡¯t drawing attention, and it was only when he was the last one to head over to the next spot that he started to accept that they were mostly in the clear. The bathroom stalls he landed on felt unstable under his feet, and James saw Anesh and JP were both half-crawling across them as they kicked down to break open locks and make sure there weren¡¯t any more surprises hiding in the toilets. Once it was clear, it was a straight drop down to the next point. Their goal was another chunk of bathroom wall, this one rotating around a fixed point in space, slowly turning while the whir of a hand dryer¡¯s fan started to come into focus over the rushing of water all around them. A hundred foot straight drop down. Easy. ¡°Getting back up is going to be exhausting.¡± James groaned. They were dropping a pair of parallel ropes and they all had climbing hooks to make it easier, but that was still going to be a hell of an effort on the way back. ¡°Watch your feet when you land.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need to look at my feet to maintain proprioception.¡± Bea told him without looking back as she stepped off the ledge and dropped straight down. James resisted the urge to flinch as she did so. Over his shoulder, JP made a low whistle. ¡°Well, she¡¯s got style.¡± He commented. ¡°Hey, actually, is Bea single?¡± ¡°Is now really the time for that.¡± Anesh asked as James gave him a steadying hand so he could take a step over the broken open door of a sideways toilet stall and clip his own harness to the ropes. ¡°Really. Now.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t make time, no one will make it for you.¡± Arrush said gently, his rasping voice almost swallowed up by the flowing water around them. James glanced up at the much more confident ratroach who was standing legs astride two bars of metal, his split tail keeping him from wobbling on the aerial geometry. ¡°But maybe make time when we are somewhere less wet?¡± He added, getting a sudden spike of a laugh from James. ¡°Maybe a little less sideways, too? Fewer crap golems?¡± James offered JP. ¡°Bah. You both lack vision.¡± His friend¡¯s retort had no heat to it, though it did get a confused look from Arrush, who blinked all his eyes slowly, counting them off on his claws like he was trying to figure out JP¡¯s ocular math. ¡°Whatever. I¡¯ll see you at the bottom.¡± JP said, sliding over the edge after Anesh. James landed last, and immediately twisted as the portion of white and blue tile wall rotated under his feet. He managed to catch himself, palms sending up splashes of water that he felt droppings of on his face as he landed, but it was a dumb mistake on his part. Zhu stammered an apology for not helping, the navigator betraying his own anxiety about the height as his normally talkative nature was somewhat subdued. James didn¡¯t exactly feel stupid, because that feeling was overridden by the vision of the bottomless drop below and the near certain death of falling off, but he still didn¡¯t feel smart. And now he was damp in multiple spots, as he¡¯d landed in the two inch pool of water that was held on the wall by the ¡®floor¡¯ and ¡®ceiling¡¯ it had about a foot of sticking out on one side, and the force of its own rotation. ¡°Where the fuck did this water come from?¡± JP asked, looking around. There were streams of water pouring down around them, but none hitting this platform. Bea answered rapidly by pointing at where sinks submerged under the surface were adding more and more water to replace the constant small streams running off the edges, which got a sudden call of alert from Anesh and JP who noticed at the same time that there were mirrors under there too, and ceramic sharpened silverfish starting to crawl upward as they dragged themselves out of the spawning portals. The others sprang into action, but James had been looking around them when the question was asked, and so he was the one that saw the liquid bird flying her way, a foaming form of wings and a featureless head soaring around one of the columns of water and angling forward with claws out toward her flank. ¡°Bea! On your left!¡± James yelled, predicting the rotation of the platform and unable to help beyond that as he stomped down on a bug with a crunch that was all at once wet, organic, and earthen. The next bug behind it lunged out of the water, intent on either avenging its friend or just knifing James¡¯ shin, and he shifted his position back, taking deliberate stomping strikes every time he did to keep killing the things while the others worked to figure out how to kill the mirrors through the water. Bea turned her head fractionally to see the bird heading her way, its wings flaring outward like it was going to hug her, water flecked with bubbles of some kind plunging straight for her face. She didn¡¯t look surprised at all, and with an abrupt dip in local temperature, a trio of long arms of ice that sported foot long claws on their tips sprouted from her side. Bea didn¡¯t move to dodge the bird, just held two of her Breath constructed arms out defensively while the last one moved to rip it apart. It came apart with a splash, and if it had any solidity to its claws or warped beak, it vanished as she hit it and the liquid poured over her face. At the same time, the others managed to break one of the mirrors, while Anesh used his blue orb power to punch a hole in the portion of linoleum floor nearby and let the water flood away, carrying corpses and still struggling silverfish with it and opening up the remaining mirror to be more easily stomped into fragments. ¡°Well that was fun!¡± James said before letting out a surprised yelp when one of the bugs that had clung to him started trying to climb into his armor. He flung it off the edge, almost losing his balance again as he did so, only held steady by Zhu¡¯s own scream and an orange feathered limb slapping one of the bugs away on James¡¯ opposite side. ¡°Christ I hate those.¡± Zhu shivered against James. ¡°Why does every dungeon have so many bugs?!¡± He demanded. ¡°I mean, terrible bugs. Not cute bugs. More sexy bugs, please.¡± James gnawed at his lip at the statement, not wanting to get distracted until they¡¯d made sure their position was secure. ¡°Bea, you alright?¡± Anesh said, looking over to where the inhabitor was repeatedly wiping at her face and rubbing her eyes, the icy arms at her side drooping down and melting away as she let them go. Bea looked back at them, the skin around her eyes bright red. ¡°I am having difficulty healing.¡± She stated. James hustled over to her, as fast as he could with their current platform still spinning underfoot. As he got near, the smell of bleach almost overpowered him, and he wished he¡¯d thought to bring a filter mask even though the gear had never really been useful in most parts of the Office. ¡°Shit, we need to get your eyes washed out.¡± He said before realizing his water bottle was about two hundred feet overhead at the moment, and no one would ever suggest using the constant flow from the sinks for something like this. ¡°Give me your arm.¡± He told Bea, taking one of her ice limbs in his own hand as she used her normal limb to snap it off for him. ¡°Tilt your head back, force your eyes open. I don¡¯t know if you have a reflex for this, but having bleach in your eyes isn¡¯t good for anyone.¡± ¡°I agree, the damage is mounting.¡± Bea said, her normally monotone voice crackling with a hint of panic as she followed James¡¯ instructions. James held the fragment of ice shaped like a clawed hand over her face, and then poured out his own Breath, using the Survival Flare spell for the first time in action not, as he had expected, to screw with an enemy, but actually for a matter of survival, pulling heat from nearby into the ice and letting it melt rapidly, the whole structure turning to water in his grasp over the course of about five seconds and cascading down into Bea¡¯s eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t rub too much.¡± James told her as she blinked methodically, tilting her face down to let the water spill off. They repeated the process one more time to make sure, leaving James shivering slightly as his body warmed back up after spending about twenty Breath in quick succession. But by the end of it, the inhabitor simply stepped back and nodded with her usual calm as her internal process for healing the body she was in took back over. ¡°Alright!¡± James told the others. ¡°Don¡¯t get those in your eyes! Or any orifice!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell me what to do with my orifices.¡± JP snarked back almost on reflex. ¡°That doesn¡¯t hurt too badly, right? We can turn around.¡± He spoke to Bea more softly, and James repressed the urge to roll his eyes at his friend. ¡°I am capable.¡± Bea said without looking at JP, instead focusing on the area around them. ¡°There are more birds below. Six of them, that I can see.¡± ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re gonna need to be alert for those.¡± James hummed as he and Arrush moved to opposite sides of the platform to look for their next drop spot. ¡°Especially since¡­¡± he looked upward, craning his neck and getting a sense of vertigo at the towering spire around them that stretched up overhead. ¡°Yeah, Sunny can¡¯t see us down here.¡± Arrush made a surprised noise as they scanned the area, and James looked over at the armored ratroach and contender for driest member of their party as he held one claw out to point to the far wall. There, sticking out with its own small cascade of crystal clear water pouring off the edge, was a whole room, set into the wall just like where they¡¯d come in. It even had an exit door they could see the edge of around a corner. ¡°You know,¡± Anesh said as he followed Arrush¡¯s point, ¡°we always sort of expected that Officium Mundi had multiple floors. We¡¯ve seen an elevator before, I think, a long time ago. And there¡¯s a few times recently delve groups have reported stairs, but they¡¯ve always been more like slopes than actual floor changes. But that would be fifty meters deep.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll put it on the list.¡± James sighed, resigned to eternally have more questions than answers about his first dungeon. ¡°Also I don¡¯t see our next jump spot. Zhu?¡± The navigator hummed in annoyance. ¡°The turning makes it hard to find where to put a clamp. Can someone break that hand dryer? Also how is that not electrocuting all of you? Isn¡¯t this a trope? Electrics in the water?¡± ¡°It probably isn¡¯t using electricity. Dungeon nonsense.¡± Anesh shrugged as he moved over to examine the device. ¡°That said, let¡¯s see if this works.¡± There was a small flare of blue magic around him as he pointed at the thing that was, at the very least, making a lot of noise and hot air, and the machine fell silent after a short burst of grinding. ¡°Good. Are we slowing down?¡± Zhu held his feathers up into the air, like he was checking for wind speed. ¡°¡­yes.¡± He said after a moment. ¡°Good. Okay, I have a route down for the next segment, but there is a conflict and a complication on it.¡± ¡°We can handle that.¡± James said confidently. ¡°How close are we now?¡± ¡°Not as close as you want.¡± The navigator replied. The part of the group that groaned to express frustration did so, and then, after a short break to make sure their hands were working properly, started their descent again. The conflict ended up being those cleaner birds trying to hit them while they were on a gentle descent. The group managed to handle them, but learned that individual gunshots didn¡¯t do much to the creatures, and James insisted they wait for several minutes to make sure his shooting hadn¡¯t attracted more attention. The complication came when they were chaining hops between floating urinals, the mercifully clean white objects floating about five feet apart from each other; just far enough that no one wanted to risk the jump without setting up guide ropes and working through their supply of clamps. This far down, there were mops bobbing in the air around them like dandelion seeds. It had startled the shit out of James when he¡¯d first seen one drift into view, but they didn¡¯t seem hostile. Just like waving cloth sea anemone drifting by on unseen winds. Watching their patterns was actually how they¡¯d learned that some of the waterfalls that came from nowhere and seemed to vanish into nowhere were actually going through invisible portals; a form of orange totem, surely, but one they couldn¡¯t find no matter how much they wanted it. Watching the mops was also how the group had learned that they had purple orbs in them in some way, as an unpredicted burst of purple dust had erupted from one of them and struck JP before they could react. ¡°Well that¡¯s gonna be a problem.¡± James had said, watching his friend for any signs of destructive behavior. ¡°You¡¯re telling me.¡± JP said as he casually bent down and started untying his shoes. ¡°Nope, stop. What are you doing.¡± Anesh caught his hands, and JP looked up with a momentarially confused expression. ¡°Stop that.¡± JP¡¯s response illuminated what had been stuck in his head pretty quickly. ¡°My boots are dirty, man. Come on.¡± He paused. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s weird. Anyway, still gotta take my shoes off.¡± The words were said with a simple glare, like he knew exactly how dumb it was, but didn¡¯t really have a choice. Fortunately, James¡¯ habit of having one or two purples on hand at all times paid off, and it didn¡¯t take him long to get into the mindset of installing a rule into someone¡¯s brain, and create a countermeme for JP. ¡°Now, you know the rule.¡± He told his friend. ¡°No-¡° ¡°I know, I know.¡± JP waved him off. ¡°I really don¡¯t want a brain child, so if they last, I¡¯ll get them to jump to someone who¡¯s interested. I¡¯m responsible enough to know I¡¯m not responsible enough, don¡¯t chastise me.¡± Their group descended another two hops of increasingly dubious stability, going to an awkwardly angled corner of floor and wall that was slick with moisture and held one of the sludge monsters on its underside lying in wait, and from there to a single toilet stall that was missing its door and stood on a tight circle of tile. And then their final destination was within reach. Just below them, a distance that was actually objectively horrifying but felt so close given how James had gotten used to taking twenty foot jumps through open air, was a stable perfect circle of a polished linoleum floor, with incomplete lines of walls around it and small spokes of a ceiling that held their own fluorescent lights. It was a bright point in the open space that had been dimming as they¡¯d dived farther and farther down. And it had a phone in it. It was unclear to James exactly why, half a mile straight down in the Office¡¯s bathrooms, there was an ancient Nokia brick of an electronic sitting on the back of a toilet tank like it was a pedestal. It was even less clear how it was still here after months of no one interacting with it. But it was. And the instinct James had been developing since he¡¯d first stepped in here, whether he knew it or not, made the thing feel like molten salt when he looked at it. So they¡¯d come back to steal it. This time, only James and Zhu went down, the others keeping watch overhead and ready to leap in if needed. The rope vibrated against his gloves as he slid down it, and Zhu helped balance him with a feathered tail as the duo landed. ¡°Wanna bet on if this magic is deeply silly or not?¡± He asked his friend as they advanced slowly. ¡°No. Also duck.¡± Zhu¡¯s manifestation suddenly melted away, turning to a series of orange lines visible only to James showing vectors and dodge paths. James acted instantly, but didn¡¯t duck enough, and a burst of purple sparkling dust hit the top of his head, and he was abruptly not following the dress code. The good thing about the curses that the Office laid down was that a lot of them could grow into full people. The secret good thing was that they were all mental constructs that lived in your own brain, and that meant if you were busy with something, like dodging and rolling the bursts of incoming infomorph curses from the floating mops that danced in the air like a swarm of cloth jellyfish, then you didn¡¯t have time to consider that you needed a suit and tie. One of the mops dropped suddenly as gunshots started sounding, then another. James followed Zhu¡¯s dodging advice anyway and kept advancing, right up until he stepped on part of the floor that turned to semi-plastic quicksand under his foot, and he started sinking in, feeling a bright heat in his leg through the armor. Zhu pulled him out, the navigator firing off a [Move Person] charge from his own absorbed blue, the shock of the magic feeling like a weird sideways echo to James as he ended up three feet forward and still moving. From overhead, Anesh shouted at him to avoid the spirals in the floor pattern, and Zhu¡¯s guidance snapped to adjust without hesitation. James ran, before sliding past the toilet that had his target on it, several more curses going past as he did so. But he wasn¡¯t a perfect athlete, and one did end up sinking into him as he didn¡¯t move his arm fast enough. Later, he¡¯d need to contend with having finite time for lunch. But not right now. ¡°Something big, coming up!¡± Zhu told him, and James nodded as they both decided it was time to go in harmony. Zhu suddenly collapsed back into James, a feathered arm snagging the phone as they ran by back in the direction they¡¯d started from, and shoving it into the pocket of James¡¯ armor. Then James grabbed the rope and kicked the hook away from where it was latched on, using his feet to scale the bit of wall and jump off as a roiling ball of sludge the size of a truck slammed into the underside of the platform with no consideration for gravity and started oozing over to where he¡¯d been standing a second ago. The others pulled him up while the putrid mass seemed to collect itself and stare after them. But it didn¡¯t give chase, and there was a weird moment that felt like a respectful standoff as the team looked down at the black gooey mass that watched them from under the various broken spikes in its outer layer. ¡°Alright.¡± James said, wanting desperately to catch his breath, but not when he was near something that smelled like an outhouse had caught fire and then exploded. ¡°Let¡¯s¡­ get out of here.¡± Climbing back out was, he had known, going to be the most exhausting part. But at least leaving they were more comfortable using their group¡¯s collective [Move Person] charges to make a lot of the smaller hops easier. When they got back upstairs, stripping off wet armor had been the best feeling in the world. Second only to finding out that the magical Nokia had Snake on it. _____ ¡°Check it out.¡± Ben said to one of his teammates as they took some time to explore the area while a few expedition members took a much needed break. ¡°I found an iLipede that likes me.¡± Daniel and Dave looked up from where they were methodically combing through a filing cabinet, before going back to their looting. Vad, though, was happy for a distraction. ¡°¡­that¡¯s maybe not as impressive as you think it is?¡± He half-asked the mimic. ¡°I mean, iLipedes are always cool, but for you¡­¡± ¡°Hey, I worked hard to befriend this guy.¡± Ben said with a beaming smile, not letting Vad¡¯s comment get him down. Or even really processing the words all the way. He was too invested in rotating his arm as the electronic centipede crawled across him with gentle pokes of its brass pin legs. He gave it a small pat and tried not to make a silly noise as it leaned into his hand. Vad shook his head. ¡°No, I mean¡­ Ben, everyone¡¯s your friend. I was explicitly warned about it, and I still can¡¯t do anything about it, because I¡¯ve known you for years and we¡¯re super close. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s that big of an accomplishment that you got one of those to like you.¡± The way Ben¡¯s smile broke apart was painful for the others to see. ¡°Rude¡­¡± Pathfinder didn¡¯t speak to most of them very often, but when she did, her voice was like the breeze through a dozen types of tree on a long hike, and now it came out in Ben¡¯s defense. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Ben said with a motion that, whatever it actually was meant to be, made the navigator feel absolved for her friend hurting. He didn¡¯t actually know where most of Pathfinder¡¯s manifestation was; she didn¡¯t have eyes or mouths like some of the other ones, instead just opting for an extra set of arms parallel to Daniel¡¯s as they worked together. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not fine, but whatever. The point is, iLipedes don¡¯t like me.¡± Ben distracted himself from the others by peering closely at the phone bug on his arm. ¡°It¡¯s refreshing.¡± ¡°How can something not like you?¡± Dave asked, innocently reminding Ben of the constant existential dread of his existence. ¡°Isn¡¯t that your thing?¡± ¡°Yes, Dave. Thank you.¡± Ben considered just leaving for a minute. No one would actually notice, if he really wanted to. ¡°That¡¯s sort of the problem.¡± They nodded along, understanding and paying attention to his words. And Ben had no idea if they did it because they were his actual friends, or because his nature made them. ¡°If iLipedes are immune to my bullshit, that means if one of them likes me, then it actually likes me. So I¡¯m gonna enjoy this, okay?¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that makes sense.¡± Dave¡¯s comment as he went through a drawer full of loose cables was idly curious, and sometimes Ben wondered if Dave himself wasn¡¯t immune to his effect but just really bad at not being placidly and generally nice to people. Not that he was going to try to make Dave hate him just to test it. But the fantasy of being friends for real was nice to dwell on. Ben had been struggling with the nature of his existence for about as long as he¡¯d been with the Order, and part of him secretly wished that he was some kind of sleeper agent just so things could be simple again. But that was offset by the fact that, given how the Order of Endless Rooms acted toward basically every species they¡¯d met, he was pretty sure they would have accepted him anyway. Hell, even Vadik, who was doing a great job of making Ben feel like shit, had still agreed to be on a team with him after knowing what he was and what would happen to his brain from being nearby. That willingness to accept that things were confusing and weird sometimes made him feel welcome. Even being made to feel like an outsider paradoxically made him feel welcome, because it did ultimately mean that he wasn¡¯t just straight up mind controlling people to do what he wanted from them. ¡°So, what¡¯s that one do?¡± Vad asked after fighting through the awkward air he¡¯d created. ¡°Crawl around and look cute?¡± Ben suggested. ¡°Well, as cute as a 13 series can. But that just means he¡¯s a big chonker.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­ okay, yeah, you¡¯re not wrong. But don¡¯t they all have one weird app on them that does something unsettling that raises ethical questions?¡± Vad pressed. Ben appreciated the attempt to countermand him. ¡°Oh! Yeah, he¡¯s got a social media app that eventually tells me the current thoughts of whoever I select in the form of a post. I think it kinda leans toward the tumblr aesthetic more than anything else, so, you know.¡± ¡°¡­.I know?¡± ¡°Yeah, you know.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Oh. I mean, even if someone is just thinking about lunch or something, this big guy gives me a two paragraph study about the nature of lunch under the cruel and present conditions of capitalism.¡± Ben smiled down at the iLipede. ¡°It¡¯s not the worst thing ever, but it¡¯s also not exactly the intelligence tool of the century. We can just look at someone¡¯s actual social media and probably get more.¡± Dave rolled across the oversized cubicle they were looting, a wheeled office chair sliding over carpet with more force than was strictly needed before stopping right next to the pair and getting the iLipede to scramble up Ben¡¯s arm in shock. ¡°James would probably love that guy.¡± He told them. ¡°Why?¡± Ben asked curiously. ¡°James gets all iffy about anything that¡¯s an invasion of privacy.¡± ¡°Sure. Yeah, I mean, he does do that. But he¡¯d probably just use it on himself to save time.¡± Dave stated. Ben bent his neck to look back at the iLipede perched behind his shoulder, long antenna made of aux cables waving up next to his neck like it was tasting the sound quality of the air. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have thought of that.¡± He muttered, wondering what the longer philosophical version of his own thoughts would look like. Wondering if there would be insights that he wouldn''t have otherwise considered unless he took the hypothetical time to write them all out. He regretted having selected Dave as a target recently, the iLipede now locked on and charging up for a burst of activity where it would give him a snapshot of Dave¡¯s mind as seen through a deeply contextual and somewhat confusing web of lenses. ¡°Hey, I think we found a file folder of holding.¡± Daniel¡¯s voice brought him back to reality and out of his musings. Everyone looked over at where he and Pathfinder were holding a folder open, one glowing orange arm and one light human one adding page after page to it with no change in size. They snapped the folder closed, turning it into an almost completely flat line, and the opened it back up again. ¡°Oh. Perhaps not.¡± Pathfinder sounded almost sheepish as they looked at the empty file. ¡°Well, that¡¯s like a paper shredder, only less noisy?¡± Vad offered. ¡°Someone would put something important in there within a week and Karen would have all of us grounded.¡± Dave patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Can she do that?¡± Ben asked without thinking about it. He hadn¡¯t really dealt with Karen much. Dave shrugged. ¡°I actually don¡¯t know, but she reminds me of my mom, so I just sort of assume she has that power. Let¡¯s break that one for a blue, and move on.¡± Daniel agreed, and the others rose to their feet and stretched as they got ready to move on to the next small spot in this space where the floor was starting to crumble and the cubicle walls were growing vines that sprouted pods of neon ink. ¡°I don¡¯t think my mom ever grounded me.¡± Ben said, casually making conversation as they moved to check in with the main caravan before getting into any trouble with one of the increasingly hostile shellaxies in the area, or something worse lying in wait. ¡°That¡¯s pretty lucky.¡± Vadik said as the two of them brought up the rear. ¡°My family was¡­ wait, no, Ben.¡± He added something rude in Russian that no one else caught. ¡°I fucking forgot, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Ben exclaimed, flushing red as his friend laughed. And for just a moment as Vad flipped him off in exasperation, he didn¡¯t feel like an outsider at all. Later, after even more methodical progress through the hostile work environment, they helped set up camp far enough inland from the ink ocean that the smell didn¡¯t bother anyone. One of the delve teams that didn¡¯t feel tired and didn¡¯t quite yet understand how much long delves like this were marathons and not sprints went out to search for more dungeontech, more small secrets, more magic. Meanwhile, at their camp, Keeka fussed over making sure they all ate something more than just scrounged up candy bars, while the Research group fussed over the structure of a live orange totem that they¡¯d found nearby. Ben wasn¡¯t sure if anyone was going to be sleeping a lot that ¡®night¡¯ with the lights still burning overhead. But he was still looking forward to making more progress. He just wished the iLipede that had decided to try to cuddle up with him in his sleeping bag for warmth was less spiky. _____ Long Delve Report - Officium Mundi - Day One Acquisitions Yellow Orbs (Size 1) : 41 Yellow Orbs (Size 2) : 9 Orange Orbs (Size 2) : 8 Orange Orbs (Size 3) : 1 Blue Orbs (Size 1) : 90 Red Orbs (Size 1) : 24 Green Orbs (Size 3) : 2 Green Orbs (Size 4) : 1 Blue Items (Misc, unidentified) 10-30 estimated Blue Programs : 6, no high utility programs Ritual Coffee : 22 bags Expedition Voted Best Candy Name Of The Day : Criminal Chocolate Lava Bar Chapter 267 ¡°Evil is Evil. Lesser, greater, middling¡­ Makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definition¡¯s blurred. If I¡¯m to choose between one evil and another¡­ I¡¯d rather not choose at all.¡± -Geralt, The Last Wish- _____ James and Anesh woke up at the same moment, wrapped around each other in the same sleeping bag, uncomfortably hot, and both wanting to use the enchanted buckets that the expedition was using for a bathroom. Unfortunately, they weren¡¯t the first people with that thought, and so they played the world¡¯s most magical coin toss to see who got to go first. [Shell Upgraded : Finger Regrowth Time -2.1 Lunar Cycles] [Shell Upgraded : -1 Hangnail / Week] ¡±So¡­ which of us¡­ loses?¡± James rubbed dusty grit out of his eyelashes as they tried to figure out who had gotten the worse orb, and therefore deserved pity. Anesh swallowed the mouthful of water. ¡°It¡¯s you. I¡¯m gonna get fewer hangnails, but you¡¯re never gonna get that number down low enough to regrow a finger. Not that you¡¯re missing any.¡± James waggled his eyebrows salaciously at his boyfriend. ¡±You¡¯d know.¡± The experience of dating James had, over time, given Anesh an amount of resistance to comments like that. He almost got through giving James a level stare without blushing, until he heard a pair of muffled laughs from nearby, one a snort, one a chitter. He didn¡¯t turn to see if Alex and Keeka were watching their conversation, instead just gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he tired to keep his face from flushing. ¡°I would.¡± He deadpanned as best he could. ¡°Go use the bathroom and try not to lose your fingers.¡± _____ ¡°JP would like me to pass on his thoughts that you are receiving unfair treatment.¡± Bea told James as she joined him to stare out at the ocean of ink to start the day. Unlike James, she didn¡¯t wear a filter mask, and didn¡¯t seem bothered at all by the omnipresent and invasive smell of toner. James wasn¡¯t so much watching the waves as he was helping Arrush to secure his own mask; even refitted with the now-common blue power, ratroach faces just weren¡¯t good with these things. Too many sharp angles and slippery bits of chitin. ¡°If he wanted priority on Planner¡¯s deluxe express infomorph therapy service, he should have gotten incepted with something more complicated than just needing to clean his shoes.¡± He told her as he secured the velcro strap that went up the side of Arrush¡¯s muzzle, letting his hand linger for a moment on the side of his face and sharing a fluttering giddy smile with the tall figure. ¡°You ready for the day?¡± He asked both of them. ¡±mmphyess¡± Arrush¡¯s voice was more muffled by the mask than a human¡¯s would be, but he didn¡¯t let it get him down, instead just giving James a series of lopsided thumbs up. ¡°Yes.¡± Bea¡¯s clipped answer suddenly made James realize why her monotone was especially disconcerting. She didn¡¯t apply context to her words; everything she said was the same unique utterance of that word, every time, no matter where it was in the sentence. He wondered if the other inhabitors talked that way, or if it was a thing she was developing herself. Either way, it would be a bit rude to ask directly out of nowhere, though James was pretty sure Bea wouldn¡¯t care. ¡°Alright. Well, all the bright white light everywhere already has me awake and on edge, and I don¡¯t get my ocean sunrise, which is disappointing. Is everyone else up and milling around?¡± ¡±Mostly.¡± Bea answered. ¡°Is that why you are here by the toner?¡± James nodded. ¡±Well, yeah. It¡¯s also just nice to step away from everyone every now and then.¡± He shrugged and Arrush nodded alongside him. ¡°Also Arrush saw something moving in the wat- in the ink here. Also holy shit it¡¯s been ten minutes and I¡¯m already forgetting this stuff is toxic printer fluid. It¡¯s a miracle I¡¯ve lived this long as a delver.¡± Bea walked closer to the water, moving past the two men as she approached and leaned forward with her arms pinned to her sides and staring into the ink. ¡°Interesting.¡± She said. ¡°The glowing things?¡± ¡±¡­yeah. You can see through that?¡± James asked, curious. ¡±No, one is near the-¡° Bea shot backward with a smooth motion worthy of a Japanese horror movie creature, fluidly going from peering into the water to an upright backpedal as a luminescent little guppy shot out of the ink ocean and speared through her. Her dodge not quite fast enough to save her. The fish came out the other side and spun around in midair before plunging back into the sea, and then doing a few arcing hops out of the ink as it seemed to watch the woman on the shore. James groaned. ¡°God dammit.¡± He said as he pulled Bea back by her arm, plastic crunching under their feet as the three of them put distance between where they stood and any more of the infokleptic sea creatures. ¡°Phish.¡± ¡±Fish?¡± Arrush asked with a muffled voice. ¡±No, phish. With a p.¡± Bea nodded. ¡°P-hish. I have read the entry.¡± ¡±No, they¡¯re¡­ I¡¯m not doing this with you two right now.¡± James said, watching the slowly cresting waves of ink as a whole school of little glowing guppies started hopping up out of it. Too many to count easily, and more showing up by the minute. He had a brief moment of clarity as he remembered something. ¡°Hey, these things can fly, let¡¯s back up a bit more. I don¡¯t wanna lose my driver¡¯s license, even if I never use it anymore.¡± The kept up a steady backward pace, heading up the beach and comfortably away from the shoreline. ¡°Also, Bea, sorry about whatever you lost. We¡¯ll figure it out and get it replaced.¡± ¡±I lost nothing.¡± The inhabitor said, probing fingers poking at her chest where she¡¯d been struck without damage. James nodded. ¡°Yeah, everyone says that. But it probably took your debit card or something.¡± ¡±I do not have a bank account.¡± ¡±Oh. Uh¡­ I guess you wouldn¡¯t really have any government ID or anything. Email address?¡± ¡±I do not use the internet.¡± ¡±¡­was it annoyed because you have nothing to phish?¡± Arrush, tugging on the edges of his filter mask, started making a noise like a coughing laugh. ¡°We should¡­ catch one for Karen.¡± He said, grinning at his own attempted joke, before he slouched in slight embarrassment when James gave him a confused stare. ¡°Because they both like¡­ paperwork and things.¡± ¡±Ooooh.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay, I get it. Sorry, still waking up. Yeah, that¡¯s a fun thought. You realize Karen would murder us if we put something that eats certifications in her office, right?¡± Three sets of claws clicked together in front of Arrush¡¯s muzzle as he thought. And then he came up with the perfect answer. ¡°We could say it was JP.¡± ¡°¡­let¡¯s see how annoying he¡¯s being about being the one who has to wait on getting an infomorph extracted.¡± James settled on as they headed back to where the camp was packing up. _____ ¡°Please be careful with that.¡± Camille¡¯s voice was calm, even if it was always on the edge of an emotion that could charitably be called fashionably irate. She was doing a routine patrol of the perimeter as the expedition moved across the beach, when she came across a potential problem. A problem beyond the misuse of the word, that is. Camille had been on beaches twice before, and she was reasonably certain that while they were allowed to be rocky, they weren¡¯t supposed to be composed of half-crushed pen lids, nor were they supposed to be surrounded with crumbling interior walls and the occasional thing pretending to be a tree made out of ribbed plastic conduit and shattered computer monitors. The chemical fumes and the buried potentially lethal threats were familiar though. Cam had tried her hand at making a joke about that earlier, but she wasn¡¯t stupid, and her razor sharp intellect and ability to read people let her know instantly that she¡¯d joked incorrectly. All that was background though. The current situation was that she was armored and prepared to respond to anything that lunged out of the sand, and she was supposed to be keeping people secure. Which was why it was a bad sign when her voice got a terrified shriek out of Keeka. Though despite his surprise, he did muffle himself rapidly, and it seemed unlikely that the sound would attract anything dangerous. Cam still scanned the high tide line of cubicles to ensure there were no tumblefeeds creeping over, while Keeka tried to not lose his balance and fall into the tide pool he¡¯d been looking at. It wasn¡¯t really a tide pool. This beach didn¡¯t seem to have tides at all. But it was doing a passable attempt at mimicry. A small hexagon of cubicle walls that crumbled like sandstone, surrounding a basin of bright teal ink. The ground was rough, though Camille just stepped hard enough to shift things to a preferred flat state. But Keeka nearly toppled off the edge of the half buried chair he was perched on as he leaned over the ink. Camille stepped forward to catch at one of his upper arms, but the ratroach flinched away from her, finding his balance rapidly as he deftly landing chitin banded paws on a clear part of the rough false sand ground. He was afraid of her. Camille wasn¡¯t unfamiliar with the body language. Even on a nonhuman, the micromotions were familiar to how she¡¯d been trained to stop various emotions. It was in how she reacted that she knew set her apart from the Order. James or Alex or Sarah, her handlers, such as they were, she knew would have tried to reassure the ratroach that they meant him no harm. But Camille also recognized the careful stare she was being given. The one that meant that it didn¡¯t matter what she said or meant; she made this creature afraid. So she said nothing, and stepped backward, deliberately breaking her focus away from Keeka to look into the tide pool. There, partially submerged in the ink, a cluster of palm sized black plastic discs sat. Some of them cracked open, letting teal ink flow across their oddly textured insides, before they closed again. Patterns like breathing. Camille watched them curiously, trying to see what it was that Keeka had found so interesting. ¡°They¡¯re stamps.¡± The ratroach said after he steadied himself. His voice was so much softer than Cam always expected from something that wasn¡¯t human. ¡°I wanted to see if they ate anything.¡± ¡°To see if they were a threat?¡± ¡°No, I just wanted to know.¡± Keeka said, crouching down on his digitigrade legs, getting more comfortable as he peered over the low crumbling wall and into the tide pool again, but still ready to run if needed. ¡°Everything here needs to eat. A lot of things eat the orbs, but there¡¯s no orbs here, and I don¡¯t think they could hurt anything.¡± The black furred ratroach scratched his upper arms with his lower claws. ¡°Maybe they eat the ink.¡± ¡°Hm.¡± Camille reevaluated the tactical value of the pool. ¡°Perhaps the ink could be of use. We should take a sample for the researchers.¡± ¡°They know.¡± Keeka chittered a laugh that was still nervous. ¡°Nile complains, whenever people tell him something would make a good potion. He says that¡¯s not how it works. And then he changes colors and gets upset with everybody.¡± He sighed, the exhalation rattling something in his chest with soft clicks. The two of them stood looking at the teal basin of ink for some time, Camille trying to understand why it was so interesting, Keeka just enjoying the little round stamp creatures. ¡°I should be keeping an eye on progress along the beach. Please do not stay too long on your own.¡± Camille tried to not give an order. That wasn¡¯t her place, nor how this outfit operated. And she really did need to be screening for any buried shellaxies. The engineers had found the way their intake fans filtered particle matter to be fascinating, but that was only after Cam or another alert delver dealt with them and stopped them from giving the engineers an up close view of how sharp some of their components were. Progress was slow, but steady, covering the miles of coastline toward the distant peninsula where a threatening tower waited. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Keeka¡¯s squeak gave Cam pause as she turned to head back, her platemail lightly rasping when she moved. The apology was out of place. ¡°Why?¡± She asked directly. Sometimes the easiest way to get information was to simply request it. Keeka tried to emulate the shrug he saw James use all the time, but it didn¡¯t quite work with the way his shoulders were angled. ¡°I¡¯m afraid of you. It¡¯s not fair.¡± ¡°Very little is.¡± Camille replied, and pursed her lips when Keeka chittered an unexpected laugh. She saw why that was funny, but it hadn¡¯t been her intention. ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell me you¡¯re sorry. It doesn¡¯t offend me. I¡¯m dangerous, and I don¡¯t share the same ideas as the Order.¡± ¡°But you won¡¯t hurt me.¡± Keeka told her, voice heavy with confidence as he stood up and moved to follow her back to the rest of the expedition. ¡°And you do believe in them. No matter what you say.¡± Camille tilted her head to the side and looked at him with an imperious stare. ¡°Everyone is so much more certain of me than they should be.¡± She said, perhaps somewhat harshly. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re here.¡± Keeka said simply. ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ why you¡¯re here? You¡¯re here because you ran away from something worse.¡± ¡°Having suffered doesn¡¯t make me a good person. Which recent events have harshly reminded me.¡± Cam paused in her walking, boots crunching against the shredded cardboard and broken pen caps underfoot as she stared ahead to where one of the delve teams was trading away an incalculable fortune in yellow orbs for an incalculable fortune in purple orbs to the broken glass lizards living in an artificial palm tree. ¡°And some days, I think I understand my father. I think that the Order is a threat to the stability of the world. And I think you are a perfect example of that. Look at you. You¡¯re a¡­¡± Camille stopped herself and took a deep breath of air that smelled like a can of spray paint exploded. ¡°A monster?¡± Keeka said, standing closer to her flank than she should have let him approach unchallenged. ¡°I know.¡± His triangular muzzle pointed down at the beach as he met her normal human eyes with all five of his own faceted beady orbs. ¡°If I wanted to forget, Arrush would let me.¡± He kept his voice as steady as he could, even though the words threatened to catch in his throat. It took effort to not swap languages in anxiety. ¡°That¡¯s how I know you won¡¯t hurt me. You¡¯re like me. You¡¯re dangerous, and violent, and you¡¯ll screw it all up and lash out eventually, and you might injure me, but you can¡¯t hurt me.¡± Keeka¡¯s claws scratched along his chitin bands, blunted tips failing to find purchase. ¡°You gave up everything to risk being here. I understand.¡± As the ratroach suddenly realized how much he¡¯d overcommitted to what he was saying, and how intently he was staring at Cam before he broke away and whipped his head to face somewhere else, hyperventilating and shaking, Camille processed his words. Because he was right. She had given up her life to be here. And she didn¡¯t even really know why; only that she couldn¡¯t keep doing what she was doing, and this was her best chance to not die at the hands of her sisters when she left. It was simple. Wasn¡¯t it? And now this dungeon creation, one of many that the members of the Order of Endless Rooms insisted were people and should be treated as such, was telling her that they were the same. And Camille felt a cold anger building at the thought. She¡¯d read every report and personnel file the Order had, whether she was supposed to or not; she knew where Keeka came from. She was nothing like the thing in front of her that had been forcibly reshaped by an authority figure to serve a purpose, that had been made to kill for the convenience of someone else, that was made to kill from the youngest age possible just to survive, that was so utter replaceable that being expendable was baked into their role, that had more care paid to her armor than her injured flesh after an operation misstep¡­ ¡°This is what I was afraid of happening.¡± Camille said steadily as she tried to force the tears back into her eyes by force of will alone. ¡°Being understood?¡± ¡°Changing. I saw it, in the Climb. This is what you do to people. This is how you disrupt, this is what makes the organizational structure so concerning.¡± Keeka almost relaxed, shuffling next to her as he put a little distance between them. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not like the humans that study this.¡± He admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t know about governments or things. They say there¡¯s billions of humans, and I only know a few. But I know that this way, I haven¡¯t had to kill. And you don¡¯t either, anymore. You could have gone to Status Quo, but you came to them. To us.¡± Keeka reached out his two right arms, the lithe digits of his reconstructed paws reaching for Camille almost without thinking about it. His voice was a whisper that she still managed to pick out over the omnipresent sound of a distant and massive fan. ¡°From one monster to another. It¡¯s going to be okay.¡± Camille let him take her gauntleted hand, not feeling much of anything through the armor, but somehow appreciating it anyway. ¡°We should return before anyone becomes concerned for your safety.¡± She said eventually. Ingrained combat instincts not letting her attention wander as she may have wanted. And really, all Camille wanted to do at the moment was to stare out at the endless black expanse as it lapped at the stained shore and consider if maybe she didn¡¯t know what she was doing. But she couldn¡¯t. She had to be on guard, no matter what it was that was happening in her chest. Keeka nodded, giving her a look like he might have been expecting something else, before he led the way to follow the trail across the broken plastic shards where the Order¡¯s expedition had passed by recently. This was the danger. This was the threat the Order represented. The power to take people, and change them into something else. It was the same power wielded by global governments and megacorps and world religions. Except what they did with structures and hierarchies, the Order did with personal connections. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t scale up well, Cam didn¡¯t know, but the worst part was she found herself wondering if maybe the power would be better held by them than by someone else, and she knew, instantly, that she was already compromised beyond recovery. Down the beach, between twenty to thirty people depending on how you counted were making their way slowly forward, stopping to let some of them set up a telescopic camera to capture images of some kind of behemoth whale miles out from the shore. Many of them waved to Keeka as he rejoined the group, humans accepting the ratroach like he wasn¡¯t built to be a device that inflicted pain, but instead made exclusively to be a friend. Camille still didn¡¯t understand. And she didn¡¯t know how he did. But she followed anyway. _____ [+3 Skill Ranks : Cartography - Topographical - Construction Survey] ¡±Huh. Neat.¡± James looked upward, mind filling with different ways to redo the maps they had of Officium Mundi. ¡±Delicious.¡± Zhu added with a cascading sweep of his manifestation that ended with two extra rows of feathers growing up James¡¯ arm. Then a massive yawn split his manifested eye down the middle. ¡°I am tired now. Goodnight.¡± He announced as he sunk backward. James watched him with a worried pang of guilt. ¡°We need to figure out something to do about that.¡± He whispered to himself. _____ The expedition stopped at the base of a cliff made out of what looked like layered dark grey carpet, and that had a lighthouse on it. The lighthouse wasn¡¯t really a lighthouse. It was just a tower of cubicles, like all the others that delver teams had been raiding for coffee since before the Order was called the Order. It simply¡­ happened to be brightly glowing from its upper layer. Like a lighthouse. ¡±That¡¯s so goddamn weird.¡± Juan said as he helped Thermoclese and Mars set up their testing station on a bunch of stolen desks, preparing to check an influx of blue dungeontech items to make sure they didn¡¯t take anything problematic home, or break anything that could be earthshaking. Nearby, an older man who was wearing a button up shirt uncomfortably underneath the armor he had been warned he¡¯d need to have on looked up from where he was staring upward. ¡°It¡¯s called light, and it¡¯s been around since the dawn of time.¡± The words were overtly antagonistic as the ex-Alchemist commented on the glow. It was interesting to Juan in an academic sense that Nile could say, word for word, the same thing that Thermoclese had said to him ten minutes ago, but instead of being friendly banter, it just made the boomer come across as the world¡¯s biggest bastard. ¡°It¡¯s not fluorescent light.¡± Juan said, trying desperately to keep that mindset of viewing the words with detached intellectual interest and not letting the bastard get to him. ¡°Oh hey, that¡¯s cool as heck.¡± Thermoclese said, now standing behind him and looking upward too. ¡°What do you think it¡¯s for?¡± ¡±it¡¯s a lighthouse, girl.¡± Nile said with a bite of disdain. ¡°It¡¯s for guiding ships.¡± The actual members of the Order¡¯s basement cult shared an exhausted look. Thermoclese held up her hands, since she¡¯d been the one to handle this last time, so Juan and Mars threw down a quick match of rock-paper-scissors. Juan lost, and then sighed as he turned to Nile. ¡°What ships.¡± He asked. ¡±Excuse me?¡± ¡±What. Ships.¡± Juan replied while waving a hand at the ocean of black viscous fluid, trying not to flinch as some of the pencils orbiting his head turned to face where he pointed. ¡°The closest thing this place has to ships is the cached AO3 page on my phone.¡± Nile went from considering the point to scowling at Juan. ¡°Speak English. No one knows what that means.¡± ¡±I know what that means.¡± Mars said without looking up from where he was setting up a half dozen computer peripherals to run rapid tests on. ¡°Everyone here knows what that means. What¡¯s your excuse?¡± ¡±I have better things to do than pick up your childish slang.¡± Nile retorted. ¡°I¡¯m only here to further my own understanding of the mysteries of the metaphysical world, so I will not be talked down to-¡° ¡±Oh, yeah you will.¡± Mars was disarmingly neutral as he kept working, and Juan had to bite down hard on his lip to keep the laugh in as his friend roasted the Alchemist. Mostly because laughing would make Nile start talking again instead of silently fuming. ¡°Oh hey Myles.¡± He pivoted instantly as one of the delvers approached with a friendly wave. ¡±Hey nerds.¡± Myles¡¯ version of banter was still working on the friendly part too, but he was working on it, so none of the specialists gave him shit for it. ¡°We¡¯ve got teams about to advance on the lighthouse now. Just giving you a heads up.¡± Mars nodded as he passed Juan a connector cable and indicated that Juan should plug it somewhere, which was utterly unhelpful. ¡±Thanks man.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯re ready to go here. I think Nile wanted to go in with someone?¡± ¡±Yes, I would like to actually witness something of value as long as I¡¯m required to be here.¡± Nile groused. ¡±You literally begged to be here.¡± Myles snorted. ¡°And if you ask nicely, right now, you can come with my group when we clear the third floor, and I¡¯ll even have Marlea screen for you.¡± Nile glared at the rogue who was emotionally extorting him, though he thought of it more in terms of insolence than anything else. He opened his mouth like he was planning to say something rude, then took a long and bitter breath before gritting his teeth and grinding out a ¡°Would you allow my attendance with your little exploration?¡± ¡±Sure.¡± Myles said. ¡°And because you were so nice, I¡¯ll only point at a few things and ask if they¡¯d make good potion materials.¡± He turned back to Mars and Juan. ¡°Anything you need to share before we get going?¡± ¡±Nah, this part of the beach seems safe, and we¡¯ve got Cam anyway, so we¡¯ll be fine.¡± Juan said. ¡°And no last minute revelations. I¡¯m too damn tired to climb that thing today though, so I¡¯m gonna stay here and work on a theory. Thermoclese, you wanna go up?¡± ¡±Call me if there¡¯s a totem!¡± She called from where she was under one of the desks, crushed cardboard crunching under her armored knees. ¡°Or a ritual projector or something!¡± Myles dipped down to flash a thumbs up to her. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m gonna go risk death. Later.¡± _____ On the outside, the lighthouse was thicker than most of the cubicle towers. Smoother, too, with fewer corners jutting out. Not smooth, but certainly at least trying for a little more elegance. The inside was still cramped though, and while it was less gloomy than most of these towers, the light that filled it seemed to come mostly from the luminescence put off by the colored plant bulbs on the vines that crawled the walls. Neon yellows, oranges, and blues painting the inside like a Las Vegas street but without the buzz James associated with neon. And it was empty, too. Normally, towers that were heavily populated were defended, with even the yellow- or red-type life fighting viciously to protect the places, and either a whole swarm or a deceptively powerful green guardian at the top. If they were empty, they had a handful of small creatures nesting there, and that was it. This one, though, was almost devoid of life. And it would have been a beautiful quiet place to visit if it didn¡¯t have such a creepy vibe going on. ¡°You know what bugs me most about this?¡± James asked Harvey as the two of them participated in the methodical sweep of yet another floor of the stacked maze of office equipment. With so many people participating in this part of the operation, they hadn¡¯t bothered to enforce the team lineups, because that would be silly to begin with. And James wanted to take the opportunity to check in with the man who was, in part, in charge of their Response operations. Harvey didn¡¯t glance back, trusting James would say something a little more urgent if there was an actual crisis. He thought of James as a kid despite their relatively close ages, but a kid who knew what he was doing regardless. ¡°I get the feeling you¡¯ve got strong opinions that aren¡¯t gonna make any sense to me.¡± That was, James had to concede, probably true. Though he was surprised enough that Harvey wanted to come back into the Office to begin with, given how he¡¯d felt about it after being rescued from here in the first place. ¡°This just feels like the natural environment for stapler crabs.¡± ¡±I thought we called them striders. For being stapler spiders.¡± Harvey shoved a folded paper bag of coffee grounds into the bag they were using for that. ¡°And because no one felt creative that day.¡± ¡±Oh, do you have a better option?¡± James arched an unseen eyebrow as he leaned around the internal cubicle wall and peered down the hall to where a cable vine as thick as his arm formed an archway over a cramped passage. ¡±¡­No.¡± Harvey¡¯s rich voice hid his annoyance. As soon as James had started asking, he¡¯d known he was going to need to come up with something, but the best he could think of was ¡®clippers¡¯ to reference the paperclip webs, and that was just worse in every way. ¡°This desk is empty, by the way.¡± They kept moving, James being less cautious than normal since they¡¯d encountered no resistance in the last four floors, and Harvey exactly as on edge as he¡¯d been the whole time. Their place in the search pattern was a source of comfort; practiced by now, something easy that they could fall back on in the event that things went wrong. And also it meant that other delvers from three total teams were all around them in the crammed together cubicles. Nothing attacked them. Even when they moved to the next flattened cubicle with a slanted desk and all the pens piled on top of the keyboard where it met the floor, the whole thing bathed in red light from a pair of organic bulbs growing off the vine. The place was perfect for a jumpscare. But nothing happened. ¡±Okay. I don¡¯t like horror media. But.¡± James started. ¡±But you wanna see something skitter off into the shadows?¡± Harvey prompted. ¡°You get that this is why you¡¯re not on Response rotation anymore, right? Because you get bored.¡± ¡±Everyone gets bored.¡± James countered. ¡°And I don¡¯t want to be confronted by some kind of monster that pulls from my greatest nightmares, thus requiring me to grapple with my own psyche as well as its prowess as we fight to the death. But if that did happen, it would be interesting.¡± It was his turn to search, and he made quick work of it, personally less hesitant to open drawers than Harvey was. All the pens and pencils went into a leg pouch, just in case. Everything else got the poke test, though nothing reacted and James couldn¡¯t feel magic coming off anything. His senses weren¡¯t perfectly calibrated by a wide margin, though, which was why they still brought along anything small to potentially harvest for blue orbs. ¡°How¡¯s Response going anyway?¡± ¡±We put a borderline irresponsible amount of work into writing reports, and you don¡¯t even read them.¡± Harvey accused him as he rested on one knee, methodically swiveling his head back and forth down the sides of the thin hallway while still taking the time to scan the small gaps where the wall and ¡®ceiling¡¯ met. James clipped his leg pouch shut. ¡°I read everything.¡± He said. Which was technically true. Marcus read everything, possibly because the coordinator wrote half of it, and then James ran an experiential .mem from the young person. ¡°I¡¯m asking because you¡¯re there, and you¡¯re going to see a bigger picture than I am.¡± James paused for a second as they moved to the next open space where multiple gaps intersected. ¡°And it¡¯s kind of my job to know what¡¯s going on.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Mh.¡± Havey¡¯s grunt was noncommittal as he flickered his light to signal another duo that was at an intersection to their left. When he turned to James, the purple and green bulbs of glowing ink overhead illuminated his face and made him look like an embarrassed ratroach. ¡°This really the best time for this?¡± ¡±There¡¯s nothing here.¡± James sighed as they got another light signal from ahead, as the scouring of this floor wrapped up. If Harvey had an answer for James, either in the form of a report or just casual conversation, it had to wait a bit as they met up with the other duos. Delvers shook their heads as they confirmed that this floor, too, was empty. Not of things to scavenge, but of anything moving. There was still plenty to walk away with. After they consolidated their collected magical coffee grounds into one backpack and sent it back downstairs with JP, who needed to clean off the glowing orange ink that had covered half his face and chest when he¡¯d walked into a vine, the group filtered up the ramp to the next layer, and fanned out again to continue. James kept quiet at first, until he once again got the feeling that this floor was silent not because everything here was very good at lying in ambush, but because there just wasn¡¯t anything lying here at all. ¡°So?¡± He prompted Harvey. The man sighed, but at least he¡¯d had some time to consider. ¡°I¡¯m thinking we just call the things staplers. Save some time.¡± ¡±Staplers are real.¡± James replied reflexively as he tested whether or not an overhead ledge of an extended panel would hold his weight. ¡°So that doesn¡¯t work. And you know what I mean.¡± ¡°Alright, the- hold up.¡± The conversation ground to a halt as something moved on the glowing cubicle wall ahead. A shadowy blob wavering on the surface that still somehow looked bland and beige despite being cast in day glo pink and part of a towering cobbled together structure. James pivoted, sweeping the area behind them for an ambush or a trap or something, while Harvey kept a steady eye on the spot in question. The each took a half step back, closing the gap between them and causing the flat pane of the floor to creak and bend. So far, none of the floors had collapsed on them, but they really were just the walls of the cubicles turned sideways. And sometimes not even all the way; the floors here were riddled with slants and lip that caught at boots. The moments before a potential conflict were tense, but in an almost exhilarating way. James had just told Harvey he didn¡¯t like horror, and that was true; standing here waiting to get jump scared didn¡¯t actually make it any more fun. But there was that little part of him that made him love exploring that wanted to know. After the shot of fear, what then? What was it? Was it something new, something weird, maybe even something potentially friendly? It could be anything. It wasn¡¯t. It was just one of the vines shifting, because somewhere else on this floor, someone had pulled on part of the interconnected mass of alien plant. And the safety of the still-empty floor was almost disappointing. Actually, James didn¡¯t want to leave that unsaid. ¡°Well that¡¯s disappointing.¡± He grumbled. ¡°How many more floors of this place are there?¡± ¡±Six.¡± Harvey answered easily, making up a number on the spot. He didn¡¯t mind whatever it actually was; he really was the kind of guy who could just stick to a task until it was complete, and if they had to take a break or come back to it, that didn¡¯t invalidate progress. Six more floors didn¡¯t bother him at all. Neither would ten, or twenty. ¡°Check that desk, I¡¯ve got an answer for you.¡± James moved into the flattened cubicle, crouching to fit into the four foot tall little den. It would have been a perfect strider nest, with the floor overhead crushing it down. But no, still quiet. ¡°Ooh, this bag is almost full. And go ahead.¡± ¡±On paper, Response is doing it¡¯s job.¡± Harvey started. ¡±Wow, that¡¯s so fucking ominous.¡± ¡±Save it. We¡¯ve got almost a hundred active full time responders, connections to twenty different fire departments and twice that many hospitals scattered across the western US. We¡¯re going to start hitting our telepad limit in the next year if we expand at the conservative rate we¡¯re at, but I¡¯m told we¡¯re working on it.¡± Harvey sounded like he knew that he was telling James things James had already read. ¡°Things are fine.¡± ¡±I do know you wanted to go faster.¡± James pressed his armored shoulder against a corner and checking down the tunnel. It twisted past an overturned water cooler, and a potted fern that was lit with otherworldly colors. He flashed his light down the corridor, and got a very distant white blink back from another team. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ way too far.¡± James muttered to himself, clicking his radio on. ¡°This is James, be advised, there are orange totems in the lighthouse. I¡¯m looking at a spatial warp on the sixth floor. Over¡± ¡±Copy. Everyone be on the lookout for the sources. Early check in now. Over.¡± Ben¡¯s voice returned, the young friendship mimic having fallen into his familiar pattern and taken over running the operation rather than coming in himself. A quick check of everyone followed, while James and Harvey started moving through the extended space, prying back wall panels and looking for any floating orange orbs. ¡±It¡¯s now how fast we¡¯re going.¡± Harvey said as he held a wall pried back so James could slip a crowbar through it. ¡°Though we shouldn¡¯t be neoliberal cowards about it. When you¡¯ve got the weight to throw around, you make it happen. You promised me that.¡± James nodded, expression serious. ¡±I did.¡± Harvey took him at his word and continued. ¡°The problem? It¡¯s recognition.¡± ¡±For Response?¡± ¡±For responders.¡± Harvey corrected. ¡°Okay, here¡¯s a question. Why were you taking shifts when that was still a thing for you?¡± ¡±Because I like helping people.¡± James said simply, grunting as they snapped a cubicle wall with the crunch of drywall. There was no totem behind it, so they moved to another potential spot. ¡°And¡­ there¡¯s a lot going on there, let¡¯s just leave it at altruism.¡± ¡±And why do you think people join Response now?¡± ¡±Well, half of them are our own knights, so I¡¯m assuming something similar to me. But the new hires, I dunno. Money, with a side of ethics?¡± James hadn¡¯t actually thought about it, which he probably should have. Harvey held out a hand for the crowbar, answering as James passed it to him. ¡°Nah. Well, yeah, but the other way around. Bunch of people do want to help, they do wanna do the right thing. They just can¡¯t afford it. We pay well enough that they can. Or they¡¯re camracondas, and money doesn¡¯t really matter to them. But money is just transactional, it¡¯s not recognition. There¡¯s a hundred people working out of the Lair doing risky and important work every day, and they¡¯re turning into background noise for the ¡®big stuff¡¯. That¡¯s not okay.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± James put some thought into it as they finally found the offending orange totem, radioed it in, and then then marked the spot to be collected on the way out. ¡°Okay, I get it.¡± He said after that was wrapped up and they were moving on the the next floor. ¡°Just because someone¡¯s job is helping doesn¡¯t mean they don¡¯t need a little help themselves, right?¡± ¡±¡­are you throwing Mr. Roger¡¯s quotes at me?¡± ¡±Wow, I legitimately thought I¡¯d get away with that.¡± James laughed softly, his voice lingering in the still air. ¡±Well, whatever. You aren¡¯t wrong. Helping for the sake of helping is fine, nothing wrong with it.¡± Harvey gave him a meaningful look. ¡°But I¡¯d like it if we had a way to let them know that they¡¯re making a difference, and that people give a shit.¡± ¡±I give a shit.¡± James spoke quietly. ¡±Yeah, well, drop by and tell people that.¡± ¡±¡­Okay.¡± He set a mental note for himself to do that, adding it to the schedule stored in his skulljack braid. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can come up with something better than just my dumb ass though. Not special privileges or anything, to be clear. But..¡± ¡±Oh, hell no. The mission statement is still ¡®like the cops, but less shit¡¯. Don¡¯t just redo the same fuckups.¡± He could almost hear Harvey rolling his eyes. The conversation lapsed as James rolled ideas around in his head, and the two men kept scouring the tower. Floor after floor went by, including a long break where the whole group of paired delvers just took a rest around the next ramp up. Spread out, of course, so the floor didn¡¯t buckle under them unexpectedly. It was easier to have brought lunch up with them than to go all the way back down and up again midway through, especially when they had settled on a rest this far up the tower. As they finished up and started heading up the ramp made of an angled cubicle wall, half of them needing to duck to avoid clipping their heads on the floor they were soon to be standing on, there was just one problem waiting for them. ¡±What the hell is this?¡± Myles asked, looking around at the others. Arrush just gave a multi-armed shrug, Bea silently stared, Frequency-Of-Sunlight titled her head as if a different angle would make it all an optical illusion, Daniel checked in with his navigator to see if anything was actively wrong here, Simon ran a calming hand through the magnetic distortion of his vaguely dog shaped friend. The other delvers, farther down the ramp, mostly just waited for them to hurry the hell up. James just narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Because the last time he¡¯d seen an office door like this, it hadn¡¯t gone well for him. Tan wood with a false grain, a long silver handle, painted metal trim around the edge. And, of course, it was set into the space at the top of the ramp at about a five degree angle, the cubicle walls wrapping around it like it was being held in place, looming over them as they approached. It was illuminated by a dozen flashlights, and also the handful of glowing ink bulbs that lined the ramp up before the vines finally gave up and ended their attempt to grow on every surface in the whole tower. ¡±Well that¡¯s fucking ominous.¡± James said. ¡±But we¡¯re going in, right?¡± Myles asked, not having seen anything like this before in the Office. Despite it being a perfectly normal office door, even the warped terrain of the dungeon had mostly been cubicles as far as he¡¯d seen. Not actual corner offices and meeting rooms. ¡±Oh, we are.¡± James said. ¡°I just want to make sure we¡¯re all on the same page first.¡± And when they did go in, something violent and angry was waiting for them. But it turned out alright. _____ The adults talked about this place like it was some kind of huge adventure, but Ava just didn¡¯t see it. Everywhere she looked, it was like the back rooms for the teacher¡¯s at her old school. Cubicles and carpets and lights that were too bright to look at. There were weird things all over the place, but they weren¡¯t as magical as Ava had expected. The staplers that ran around were cool and all, but it wasn¡¯t like Rufus wasn¡¯t a person she¡¯d met before. The weird ocean was gross and awful and she¡¯d had to make a mask out of her extra shirt so she could breathe, but it wasn¡¯t special, it was just a terrible ocean. ¡°Well I like it.¡± Her sister¡¯s voice was a tiny and defiant squeak in her ear. Hidden was coiled up under Ava¡¯s hoodie, resting mostly around her left arm and spending her time making sure no one noticed them so they wouldn¡¯t get in trouble. In that regard, it was an adventure. Just not in the same way the adults talked about being delvers; this was just Ava¡¯s standard adventure where she snuck into places she wasn¡¯t supposed to be. Which, maybe, wasn¡¯t supposed to be a standard adventure for a kid her age. Maybe. She wouldn¡¯t know, because she kept forgetting the things her mom and sometimes Marjorie told her. ¡°You just like it because it feels comfy to you.¡± Ava whispered back to Hidden. ¡±Mmh.¡± The tiny serpentine leviathan made a noncommittal noise. In truth, they both knew what Officium Mundi felt like to her. Not exactly comfortable; all the information here was either too flat to be food, or too tangled up to make sense of without getting serious. No, it felt like something else. It felt familiar. Or haunted. ¡°I¡¯m bored.¡± Hidden said, instead of saying what they both already knew. Ava rolled her eyes at her sister. But she was bored too. Neither of them felt like they could sneak up the sea cliff to the big glowing tower, and both of them were smart enough to know that wandering off here was a stupid idea. They¡¯d gone off to poke around on their own a little of course, but aside from finding a pair of reading glasses that didn¡¯t fit either of them and showed people¡¯s names and a random looking date, and also finding one of those pencil sharpeners that exploded in a big cloud of dust, they hadn¡¯t wanted to get far from the expedition. If they went too far, they might never find them again. So even though it was boring, it was scary sometimes. And as fun as it was to have found some of the little orbs that taught Hidden how to play the drums or Ava how to feed an elephant while it also did her homework for her, they weren¡¯t worth dying for. Because if they died, or worse, got hurt, their mom would kill them. And that would be bad. ¡±Wanna go check out the water?¡± ¡±Nnnnnnno.¡± Hidden didn¡¯t exactly like the idea of being so exposed out on the shoreline. Ava did though. ¡°Oh! Look! Birds!¡± She pointed pointlessly, Hidden already looking where she was, as a flock of printer paper fluttered across the shoreline like airborne litter. ¡°Aw¡­¡± Her shoulders slumped as she realized they weren¡¯t birds at all. Just crumpled sheets of paper. They¡¯d seen them a few times before, from a distance, but never this close though. So it was still worth checking out. The pair left their spot on the edge of the delver campsite, and headed closer to the sticky black ink of the ocean where the flock of paper had landed. Ava¡¯s slim feet crunched the pen caps, each step shifting under her in a way that was quickly exhausting for the young girl. As soon as they got close, maybe ten feet away, the flock paper burst into motion. Maybe seeing them, since Hidden wasn¡¯t exactly making them invisible or anything. Maybe it was just luck. Either way, the sheets of paper exploded into a cloud of sharp white lines as they took flight from the beach. It was luck that Ava didn¡¯t fully understand that the paper cloud had headed away from them. She was clever for her age, and her sister gave her a lot of options most kids would never have, but she hadn¡¯t read all the entries for Officium Mundi, and didn¡¯t know that the edges of those pages could slice her like a knife. Instead, there was just a curious boredom as Ava moved forward to where the flock had left from. ¡°Ooh!¡± She exclaimed, picking up the pace and half jogging across the uneven surface as she spotted splotches of white left behind. ¡°Look! These ones are all torn up!¡± ¡±Are they alive?¡± Hidden¡¯s own curiosity poked through, the two girls skidding to a stop and both inching closer to the nearest downed piece of printer paper in their own way. ¡°It¡¯s moving!¡± Hidden squeaked, jerking their whole body back into Ava¡¯s hoodie. Ava looked around for a stick or something, but this beach was utterly devoid of driftwood, which was another way that the real world was superior. Using the toe of her sneaker, she nudged at the closest piece of paper, which twitched back from her. It had a tear down its middle, ragged and leaving it apparently unable to fly at all. ¡°This seems dumb.¡± Hidden prodded her sister as Ava crouched down to make a similar, but more physical, prod at the piece of paper. And then, when it twitched but didn¡¯t seem to try to run, reached out to pick it up. ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon monster! Stop touching it!¡± ¡±You¡¯re a dungeon monster.¡± Ava shot back without either thinking about it or actually meaning it. Hidden started gnawing on her hair. ¡±You¡¯re mean and I hate you.¡± The infomorph lied. ¡°Let it go!¡± ¡±But it can¡¯t fly.¡± Ava looked around the beach, and at the four other downed pages. ¡°It¡¯ll just die here, won¡¯t it?¡± She thought about it, and then set the paper on her leg, smoothing out the crumpled sheet with her hands. She got a lot more careful after she sliced her finger open on the edge with a yelp, but it was a shallow paper cut, and wasn¡¯t bleeding, so Ava kept trying to smooth out the creases and straighten the wriggling paper. ¡±What are you doing?¡± ¡±Trying to remember that thing James showed me.¡± She screwed up her face, as if biting her lip was a good way to recall things. That always worked on TV, but it wasn¡¯t working for Ava. ¡°Can you help?¡± Hidden gave a put upon sigh. ¡°I suppose. But you owe me now!¡± This wasn¡¯t strictly true. There was a complex interwoven web of debts between them for a whole bunch of different favors or helps or dares, all at different scales, all interacting in different ways, and all of it largely ignored by the two girls because while it was funny, it wasn¡¯t really convenient. ¡°What do you need to¡­ oh, I see it.¡± And then the infomorph pulled back, manifestation receding a little as she slipped into Ava¡¯s active thoughts, a tail that wasn¡¯t a tail reaching down to the depths of a mind that didn¡¯t have any actual verticality. She¡¯d had to practice this with some of the others, for boring science reasons, but it was always hard with other people. With Ava, though, it was as natural as opening her eyes, and it only took a second to find the memory she needed and bring it to the fore with crystal clarity. ¡±Thannnnks!¡± Ava¡¯s hands started moving, a little clumsy, but now following directions she could remember. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry, it¡¯ll be okay.¡± She tried out her best serious adult voice on the sheet of printer paper, which was flapping against her as she tried to fold it. ¡°Just stay still for a second.¡± Basically forever ago - a little over a month - James had dropped in on the youth group that Ava was a part of. It was weird being one of the oldest just because she was human, but there were a couple other people actually her age, and the others were cool too, so she didn¡¯t hide from it too often. He¡¯d been showing them something that he¡¯d made some weird jokes about nostalgia on, which was how to fold a paper crane. Other things, too, but the cranes were the ones Ava had liked, and had stuck with her. Mostly. She had to improvise here. A fold to make it a square, the triangular fold in a way so that folding the edges in would repair the rip, edges in again, top down¡­ the motions came easier as her memory was buoyed up by Hidden. When she finished, and gently tugged the wings out so it wouldn¡¯t split in half, the piece of paper seemed almost confused as to what had happened to it. It shifted back and forth in her palm, new wings and beak moving and flexing like it wasn¡¯t sure what to do with this. Then it made a tiny hop, and then another that sent it sprawling over the edge of Ava¡¯s hand and down to the coarse beach. But then, realizing it could still move, it flung itself into the air, wings that absolutely should not have been able to keep it aloft pumping as it took wing. ¡±Alright, that was neat, I guess.¡± Hidden admitted as she pulled herself out of Ava. ¡°Are you gonna do the others?¡± She sounded almost expectant. ¡±Well¡­ I guess it¡¯s not fair if I just do one.¡± Ava nodded, decided she was doing the right thing, and got to work. Watching the paper cranes - some more damaged than others but all of them airborne - fly away was bittersweet. Because Ava had secretly been hoping that one or more of them would stick around and she could have a really cool magical pet to hang out on her shoulder. But even the ones that had held still for her to fold still got clear of her pretty quick, and one had even pecked a hole in the back of her hand which was bleeding, so they were really more like wild birds than anything else. Hidden was chastising her as they headed back along the beach to see if they could sneak a bandaid out of the medical cart. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to try to catch it! You¡¯ve already got the cutest living thing on your shoulder!¡± ¡±You hate people looking at you. And you¡¯re not cute, you¡¯re slimy.¡± ¡±You¡¯re slimy! Stop running away from baths!¡± ¡±Well you-¡° Ava was certain she had the perfect retort for her sister. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t get a chance to deploy it. Neither of the girls noticed the shadowed circle in the beach where the surface was just a little sunken, but both of them noticed real fast when Ava¡¯s crunching step triggered an explosion of shredded cardboard and broken pen caps. They were both screaming, Ava flailing her arms and falling backward onto her butt, when out of the sudden eruption of the ground, the whirring mass of a shellaxy burst forth. It was only about half Ava¡¯s size, but the speed it moved at and the extended tightly wound cable tentacles that it used to fling itself forward made it seem like the world¡¯s largest monster in that moment. It snapped forward with its maw of sharpened components, and Ava kicked it in the teeth once. A strike that cost her her shoe, the intact nature of her sock, and half the skin on her foot. It scuttled over her downed form, singing out in error tones, and Ava felt nothing but terror that it was going to kill her, and if it didn¡¯t, her mom absolutely would. Then the shellaxy paused, it¡¯s glowing eye swiveling over her with an ominous blue light before it eased its weight off her and started receding. Ava still hadn¡¯t even managed to suck a breath in, the air knocked out of her lungs keeping her from screaming any further. But she felt a moment of hope, before two of the tentacles wrapped around her ankles and started dragging her roughly across the beach and down into the hole. Then, she managed to pull in some air, and let it out in a scream of panic. Wrapped around her neck, Hidden broke out of her own abrupt daze, and added her own shout. Less a scream and more a pulse that bellowed to anyone nearby to notice. It all happened so fast, but Hidden felt like she could see the world with crystal clarity. The worn black rubber wrapping up the shellaxy¡¯s limbs, the lapping acrid ink just a couple yards away, every bump as Ava¡¯s head was dragged over the rough surface, the way that there was something deeper down in the hole the shellaxy had come from. But she was tethered to her sister, and they were both being pulled under, and no amount of perception actually translated to being able to stop it. From below the beach, pushing out of the shellaxy¡¯s sandy ambush nest, much thinner cables with tiny fangs on their ends began to wrap themselves around Ava¡¯s leg, and Hidden¡¯s sister screamed louder. Then a battle damaged sharpened grey metal mace slammed into the front edge of the hermit crab computer that was pulling them down. Thin metal warping and plastic parts snapping as a clean corner became a foot deep indentation. The creature made a confused ding, wobbling and loosening its grip like it wasn¡¯t sure if it was hurt or not. So Camille obliged it, and gave it a clear answer, yanking her weapon out with a lean motion, and then slamming it back in, small chunks of the shellaxy spraying out as its face was caved in and broken. Instantly, the cords gripping Ava¡¯s leg that had been half buried let go, and pulled back, but Hidden couldn¡¯t feel them move away under the beach at all as Ava scrambled backward, dragging her leg out of the hole and starting to shake with sobs as she rolled over and tried to crawl behind Camille¡¯s armored form. There was the click of a radio. ¡°This is Azure. I have a situation. Over.¡± ¡±P-please don¡¯t tell my mom.¡± Ava¡¯s face was a mess of tears and blood from where she¡¯d wiped her hand on her cheek. Camille just looked down at her with a blank expression as the radio at her side clicked. ¡°Yeah Cam, what¡¯s up?¡± There was a pause. ¡°Over.¡± ¡±I have something here that appears to be a preteen human girl.¡± Her eyes flicked to Hidden, curled up in Ava¡¯s tangled hood. ¡°And one infomorph. Nature unknown. Please advise, over.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not gone.¡± Hidden tried to whisper to Ava. ¡°Tell her it¡¯s not gone. Tell her.¡± But Ava wasn¡¯t in any condition to understand what Hidden was saying. So she had to do something she actively hated, and slithered out of the hood. ¡°It¡¯s not gone!¡± Her voice was a terrified squeak, but she managed it. ¡°It¡¯s below us!¡± The radio clicked to life again. ¡±Hey Cam. Uh¡­ we don¡¯t really know what to¡­ uh¡­ you know¡­¡± Below the armored woman¡¯s feet, smaller cords were snaking out, seeking her through the sound. Cam, utterly untrusting of the thing that looked like a person laying on the beach, was still acutely aware of her surroundings, and noticed the cables going for her when the radio was on. As Ben continued to give a frustratingly repetitive explanation of the concept of adopting dungeon life, Camille flicked her wrist without moving her feet and sent her radio spinning to the ground five feet away. The buried tumblefeed took the opportunity, and burst out where it had tracked her steps, a cascade of blue and black plastic and shredded cardboard filling the air in a column as its cords reached upward. The problem was, it burst out a few feet to Cam¡¯s right, and that was a critical mistake. It adapted quickly, cords lashing against her armor and face, but finding no purchase. One cable tried to snake around to the back of her neck, but Cam was already moving and just let it skip across the side of her head. Her mace dropped to the ground, and her hands blurred as she drew a secondary armament, cracked the ignition, and stepped fearlessly into the core of the tumblefeed¡¯s mass swinging a thermite lance like she was an avenging angel. The heated metal bit into the creature¡¯s core, and while it struggled to pull more of its cords out of the beach, Cam filled the air with the scent of burning plastic as she melted away the root of its tangled cords. She hit it a second time, the thermite lance snapping as she curled her left hand around the tumblefeed cords trying to sink fangs into her platemail. One good yank and the heart of it was peeled open. Red sparks from the burning brand of a weapon splashed to the ground as she pivoted to place herself between where Ava was kicking and scrambling to put distance between the fight and where she was on the ground. Cam ignored the girls except to interpose herself between them and the lashing cables, then dropped what was left of her thermite, flicking it into the creature just in case this fight dragged on, but then caught its heart in a satisfying grip and pulped it in her fingers. The green orb it dropped, Cam caught in her goo-coated gauntlet, and casually dropped to the ground as she stepped back from her kill. When she looked sideways to glance down at Ava and Hidden, the two girls both felt like they were being watched by a far worse predator than anything in the dungeon. The radio on the beach still broadcasting was the most comforting lifeline ever. ¡°¡­Cam? You there? Hello? Please don¡¯t kill anything, Cam. Uh¡­ over.¡± Camille stepped over kicking the tumblefeed out of the way to retrieve her radio. ¡°This is¡­¡± She paused and sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve killed something. Over.¡± ¡±Dammit Cam. Over.¡± ¡±It was a tumblefeed. The child is still here. I¡¯m bringing her back.¡± She affixed the radio back to her armor and reached down with her clean hand. ¡°Thank you.¡± Cam said simply to Hidden, before focusing on Ava. ¡°You are injured. Our medics will want to see you. Stay close, and come with me. And bring that please.¡± She motioned to the orb the size of a grapefruit sitting on the beach. Ava just nodded. This was still salvageable. Maybe, maybe, it would be possible to get out of this without getting in trouble. _____ It wasn¡¯t. _____ Long Delve Report - Officium Mundi - Lighthouse Projector The overhead projector discovered in the structure designated ¡®the lighthouse¡¯ is the third to be located and identified. It was found guarded and in use by a ¡®hiring manager¡¯ and six variant stuffed shirts, and was taken with several moderate but non-critical injuries. The area that it is in is styled like a skyrise ¡®corner office¡¯, with a higher ceiling and more solid walls than any of the parts of the cubicle tower below it. Additionally, the entire room is filled with a highly potent version of the highlighter vine, which accounts for the powerful glow visible from outside the lighthouse. The projector itself accepts the same style of limited input in a space (10¡±x10¡±x8¡±) as the others, and uses the same ¡®ritual¡¯ placement of coffee grounds around it, which can be found on several of the respawning bags of grounds in any cubicle tower. The ritual is trigged by pressing the switch on the projector, as normal, which consumes the coffee grounds and produces a flash of light. The output has not been extensively tested, but based on limited information, it appears to improve whatever is placed in its input zone. When quantified with the yellow orb standard, this improvement is a 25% boost to the skill rank gained. But the ritual still works on mundane objects, and they show clear changes that are difficult to say are limited to only 25%. Examples include: -Pens writing with smoother and cleaner lines with less ink usage -A shirt changing material and being a better fit for its owner (it can determine ownership) -An iPhone showing marked improvement in function and battery life (it appears to have had its version of iOS reverted two iterations, and it¡¯s unclear if this is the ritual being sarcastic) -Candy being more filling and not leaving a cloying aftertaste. -Knives being sharper -A water bottle adjusted to be more ergonomic when part of a delver¡¯s kit, with better insulation None of the changes to mundane items make them magic. They are simply better versions, though what constitutes ¡®better¡¯ appears to be subjective and based on factors like who the item belongs to and what its use case is. Preliminary tests with magic items were limited, as the expedition hadn¡¯t planned for this situation and didn¡¯t have many items that could be considered potentially disposable in the event that things went wrong. However it was tested on one of the Status Quo breaker gloves, and while the glove is now noticeably more comfortable than its duplicate copies, there was no change to the cooldown time, charges stored, uses to level, or any other immediately noticeable effects. Since it was unsafe to create a fresh orange totem on site, it is unknown if compressed spaces will still upgrade everything inside. If they do, however, because this one doesn¡¯t have the same ¡°output bottleneck¡± that the copier has, it could be of massively increased value to upgrade mass quantities of food, tools, components, or even people if we want to risk that after extensive testing. Several delvers recommend setting up a permanent base in this tower to secure the ritual, so that we won¡¯t have to fight a respawning boss every time we want to access it. Because this one merits a lot of further testing. _____ ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay dipping out? This was your vacation time, wasn¡¯t it?¡± James asked Harvey as he helped pack up the heavy camping backpack that the man would be wearing as he teleported back to the second iteration of Fort Door. Harvey gave James a level stare. His salt and pepper beard was currently half a vibrant green that would glow so powerfully under a black light that it would be able to charge solar panels. The rest of him was less soaked in the ink, but half of him was still a riot of bright colors, no matter how black his skin was supposed to be. The armor he¡¯d been wearing had been so damaged that they weren¡¯t even taking it back, just ditching it here and replacing it later, and the only reason Harvey wasn¡¯t delirious with blood loss was because they had Climb empowered medics here. ¡±Vacation?¡± He asked stiffly. ¡±¡­Yeah?¡± James asked. ¡°I mean, this is my vacation. Kinda.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t be mad at him.¡± Arrush wheezed out from where he was sitting nearby being fussed over by Keeka, his boyfriend gingerly cradling one of Arrush¡¯s smaller arms. ¡°He is very dumb.¡± ¡±Hey!¡± Harvey sighed. ¡°Man, I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m here. I just wanted some skill points.¡± ¡±Oh. Yeah, no, I get that.¡± James nodded. ¡°Here.¡± He opened one of the pouches of random yellows and reds. ¡°Just¡­ take some? It¡¯s fine. Like, we duplicate so many of these, we can¡¯t get to all of them. So take a handful. Reds are legitimately useful for leadership positions, by the way; they help you understand how to approach people.¡± ¡±They don¡¯t taste as good though.¡± Zhu said from James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Not that humans taste them, I suppose. But the reds are more like a hot dashboard than fresh upholstery.¡± ¡°Yeah, what Zhu said. Orbs?¡± James offered the bag to Harvey. ¡±¡­We¡¯re gonna have a talk later about delver privilege.¡± Harvey said. But he did take the orbs, popping a great handful of them and letting his eyes flicker upward as he made notes on his skulljack about his gains. ¡°Alright kid, you ready to go?¡± ¡±Kids.¡± Anesh corrected idly as he waited to bother James to help him mess with his own armor before the expedition moved on. ¡°Hidden is¡­ oh, sod it.¡± He broke off as it became clear it wasn¡¯t actually worth arguing the point. Ava just nodded, looking like she was going to her doom. Which she might be, but not nearly as much as James would be when he got back and had to face Jeanne¡¯s wrath for letting her daughter sneak in here in the first place. Ava was actually an excellent reminder that humans had no natural defenses against infomorphs, and that maybe, maybe, it wasn¡¯t great to trust a kid with the relative power of ¡®walking around with a mental rocket launcher¡¯. ¡±Alright. We¡¯ll drop this off for ya.¡± Harvey shifted the pack on his back. ¡°And tell¡­ uh¡­ you that you say hi?¡± He gave Anesh a narrow eyed look. ¡°How the hell do you keep track of all this?¡± Harvey asked James. ¡±Honestly I mostly just let Anesh deal with it, and focus on whichever one is closest.¡± James tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially and dropped his voice. ¡°Especially when we¡¯re alone and I want to make him-¡° ¡±Wow, yeah, no, we¡¯re not close enough for me to stick around for that. Let¡¯s get you home.¡± Harvey took Ava¡¯s hand and gave James one last look and a snort before pulling the telepad and vanishing back to the one place they could reliably telepad to in the Office. ¡±Alright.¡± James said. ¡°Is everyone good to move?¡± He asked Keeka. ¡±Yeeeees¡­¡± The ratroach peeled back his muzzle to show his fangs in half-agreement. ¡°But we should let some of the hurt ones ride the carts if we can find space. Just for today. To rest.¡± ¡±Yeah, I¡¯m cool with that.¡± James said. ¡°Especially since I¡¯m one of the hurt ones! Good thing my boyfriend thinks scars are cool.¡± He held up his hand, bandage wrapped around his palm. ¡±No we don¡¯t.¡± All four people near him echoed at the same time. Zhu followed up by peeling his own feathered arm away from James own, a dully glowing line where they¡¯d been injured on his own palm, which he used to try to slap James on the side of the head. ¡°Stop being damaged!¡± He ordered his host. ¡±I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± James said. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this show on the road. We¡¯ve got people to meet. Kirk¡¯s group will be coming through tomorrow, and we need to cover¡­ what, ten miles or so to meet them?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve done it before.¡± Anesh said with a wry grin. ¡°Should be easier this time around.¡± James snorted, brushing Zhu¡¯s orange light feathers off his neck. ¡°Yeah, well, if it¡¯s worse, then that¡¯s a sign from our dungeon master that it¡¯s time to get out.¡± He said. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m feeling pretty good about all this, even if I did get cut up. We did the big things we wanted to check out! Now it¡¯s all just¡­ you know¡­¡± He looked out over the sluggish waves of the ink ocean. The way it had a sort of rainbow sheen to it farther out was almost beautiful, even if the smell from the world¡¯s largest air conditioning fan blowing its fumes into his face was bad, even through his mask. The bathroom, the ink sea, they were cool places that the Order had wanted to fully explore, work toward mapping out. And that was great, it really was. ¡°But out there,¡± Zhu picked up James¡¯ thoughts, ¡°there¡¯s something new.¡± ¡±Exactly. Let¡¯s go find it.¡± James smiled. Arrush made a wet coughing sound as he cleared his throat. ¡°It¡¯s going to try to eat us.¡± ¡±¡­let¡¯s go find it cautiously.¡± _____ Long Delve Report - Officium Mundi - Day Two Acquisitions Yellow Orbs (Size 1) : 21 (10 ¡°Improved) Yellow Orbs (Size 2) : 2 Orange Orbs (Size 2) : 17 Blue Orbs (Size 1) : 50 Purple Orbs (Size 1) : 24 Purple Orbs (Size 2) : 8 Red Orbs (Size 1) : 30 Green Orbs (Size 4) : 1 Blue Items (Misc, unidentified) 10-20 estimated Ritual Coffee : 18 bags (Net loss of 6 bags) iLipedes : 3 Expedition Voted Best Candy Name Of The Day : Nut Loss Chapter 268 ¡°The future is bulletproof! The aftermath is secondary!¡± -My Chemical Romance, Look Alive Sunshine, Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys- _____ James jerked back as the form of one of the quilldogs slammed into him. It was a glancing hit, it wasn¡¯t actually trying to kill him, he was just between it and where it was running, and the armor made it easy to take. Not that the armor negated the force, but more that it spread it out, kept any of the sharpened pencils in its coat from catching in his flesh, and turned what could have been a serious injury from the thin creature into just a stagger. He recovered with a wheeze of air as the quilldog bounced off him and kept running through the carpet that grew like a field of grey wheat around them. James dropped his arm, carrying on the motion the dungeon life had started, and let go of the sledgehammer he was carrying. Zhu¡¯s taloned grip grabbed the tool out of the air a split second later; the navigator had basically no muscle, less force behind his projection than a physical human, but the hammer didn¡¯t care. It didn¡¯t weigh anything. They were still out of position. The sudden eruption of motion from the quilldogs that had been lapping at a free standing water cooler out on the carpet plains had caught their scouting group off guard. The ominous whirring hum of the chrome beetle that bore a striking resemblance to a Roomba bearing down on them had added to the feeling. And now, the stupid dog hadn¡¯t had the good sense to go around them, and James was left standing in front of the thing and still unbalanced. Anesh and JP pulled the triggers on the net launchers that the expedition had brought in as part of a test run for new standard gear for Officium Mundi runs. They were arrayed like a vanguard behind James, and while one of the nets just missed entirely, the vacuum beetle bearing down James ignored the other one in a much more horrifying way. As the net threatened to tangle itself in the creature¡¯s¡­ legs? Wheels? James couldn¡¯t tell. Whatever it needed to move, it didn¡¯t matter, because the beetled peeled back a flap on the front of its domed body to reveal an inner mouth that would make an OSHA inspector apoplectic. The material for the netting was made of dense paracord. This wasn¡¯t something the Order had cobbled together like their magnetism grenades or the unhealthy amount of thermite they carried around. These were professional, manufactured tools. And the vacuum beetle just shredded it, bit by bit. Flashing blades slicing back and forth while turning gears and gripping claws pulled more of it into its mouth. The number of tools and the size of the inner space clearly out of line with what should be able to fit, not that the theoretical lack of room stopped it from having ten different length blades sweeping back and forth like the scanner on the car from Knight Rider but made of knives and not red lights. The net did not slow it down, was the point. From James¡¯ left, he heard Arrush make a terrified panicked sound that he¡¯d never actually heard from the ratroach before. A flicker of ethereal blue unlight signaled the use of an absorbed blue, and something must have changed, but James didn¡¯t see a direct effect or know what had happened, so he just tried to regain his footing and brace to throw himself over the thing and out of the way of its industrial grinder of a mouth. Another quilldog came tearing out of the carpet grass at an angle between James and the beetle, and the massive chrome beast started to divert to the closer prey before the lamp-headed canine dove back out of sight. But it bought him the second he needed, and James leapt, feeling his enhanced cognition make the timing smooth as his left shoulder landed high on the beetle¡¯s back and he started to roll across it. Zhu kept a grip on the sledgehammer as the weapon locked into place on the lip of the grinding maw, and his manifestation pulled on James like an extension of his own body to help the two of them roll to James¡¯ knees on top of the rushing monster. His mind shoved a command at the glove on his left hand, an almost never-used power from the Status Quo tool coming to life as James let Zhu brace them and pulled back his elbow for a downward strike. His first punch hit the front right segment of the beetle¡¯s back, and he had to yank his hand back as a flare of heat emanated from the spot he¡¯d slammed down on. Melt Iron wasn¡¯t something they used often, but right now, it was certainly getting the roomba¡¯s attention. James hit it again, and a third time, burning through half the available charges in a few seconds before the beetle came to an abrupt stop and nearly threw him off. When it flared its wings, interlocking chrome plates fanning out to create a dazzling display of gleaming metal with one small circular patch glowing orange, it did throw James off. He slammed into the thick tall carpet, got tangled in it instantly instead of rolling, and was only barely yanked out of it by his arm by Bea as the roomba charged forward into the patch he¡¯d been in, raising itself up to try to slam its whole body down since just darting forward hadn¡¯t worked the first time. ¡±Oh good it does have legs!¡± James heard himself saying as Zhu pressed the sledgehammer back into his hand and wrapped his talons around James¡¯ fingers. ¡±Shoot it!¡± JP¡¯s voice, muffled by a waist high patch of carpet, gave a firm command. The gunshots were sharp cracks despite the silencers, and the ones that hit made metallic ringing pings as they deflected off the beetle¡¯s hull. ¡°Stop shooting it!¡± Anesh yelled from the other side. James wished he¡¯d saved some of his [Separate Alloy] blue charges. He missed the days of being able to just sublimate tumblefeeds in one hit KOs Speaking of blue orb powers, he employed a use of [Move Person] to rapidly flicker out of the way of another charge. The vacuum beetle seemed to have a hard time turning, but when it moved, it moved, darting forward like someone slammed on the gas pedal of a sports car. He had a brief moment to look around. His teammates were spread around the beetle in a rough semicircle, with Ganesh overhead looking for an opening and smart enough to not try lasering the reflective hide of the big round beast. One slip up would mean a serious injury or even death, but there was no way they could run from it now. The closest terrain was some desks coming out of the floor thirty feet away through waish high carpet, so running was out. But at the same time, it had slow reflexes no matter how fast it was. And they could just keep hitting it with different things until it gave up. James realized suddenly he¡¯d never had a battle of attrition in a dungeon before. It was always tiny moments of sudden violence and struggle. The closest to something like this was fighting multiple enemies at once. But this was different, somehow. As he made some quick signals over their skulljack link to reposition, and moved to force the creature to pivot so Anesh could get in a good hit with the dungeontech notepad that converted things it was pressed against into drawings, he felt weird. Another charge, another attempt to grab one of them and rip them apart, but this time the dodge came easier as the group fell into a rhythm and Ganesh gave them a live feed from overhead that let them almost perfectly predict what was going to happen next. ¡±Here.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers sunk back as an orange lance of light popped up in James vision, complete with the spot at which he needed to start swinging. And when they spoiled the next charge, the roomba now having trampled and sliced away a wide circle of the tall carpet to form almost an arena to fight in, James was already there to hit it with enough force to snap one of its hidden little legs off. Bit by bit, they wore it down. Dismantling their foe with calculated violence, until eventually it just died without any drama or particular finishing blow. At no point did the roomba try to communicate, or do anything except rend them limb from limb, and at no point did it succeed at that. It felt weird. ¡±This also feels weird.¡± Anesh told them as JP and Bea heaved the corpse upward so that Anesh could crawl under it and collect the orb. James had been trying to explain how it felt a little cruel to fight like this, and JP had been reminding him of the rending thing, when Anesh interrupted by shimmying back out from under the mass of metal and burst spatial warp with an armful of orbs. ¡°It¡¯s like a bloody loot pinata.¡± James blinked. ¡°Man, I love you a ridiculous amount, but you cannot say it that way.¡± ¡±Pinata?¡± ¡±Pi?ata.¡± Arrush supplied, his warped mouth chewing on the pronunciation even as he did a better job than Anesh did. ¡°Pin yahhht ah.¡± He paused and looked around. ¡°Is¡­ is this place a pi?ata? It gives us candy when we hit things.¡± James smiled at the big guy as was reminded that Arrush probably spoke better Spanish than he did with his singular skill rank. ¡°That is technically correct, which is the best kind of correct.¡± He nodded in agreement. ¡°But let¡¯s put that on hold. Where¡¯d all the orbs come from?¡± Indeed, Anesh had come out from under the beetle with not just the hefty green and supplemental orange that James had expected, but also two small purples, a red, and about ten yellow orbs too. He just gave a defeated shrug at the question. There was no real way to know why the dungeon did things the way it did sometimes. All they could do was measure what was going on, and test to see if they could narrow down the conditions and reasons. They packed up the orbs, and then continued aiming themselves across the wide open expanse of carpet. Heading for a rendezvous with their secondary expedition, and mapping out a much faster way through the Office than they¡¯d previously known. Though to be fair, they¡¯d really only found the route for a one time use when they were running for their lives. So pretty much any route would be faster. This route just happened to have giant beetles. At least the jumbled desks that were half submerged in the floor had a surprising amount of cash in them. _____ ¡±So, I got a skill rank.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight told James casually as he used a pair of tinted binoculars to try to spot movement in the ceiling above them. The camraconda was hanging out with James since half her team was taking it easy for the next day or two; already stacking up small cuts or bruises from constant action, and the rest of her team was Harvey who was actually too hurt to keep going. Not that James felt much better. It turned out that, between throwing himself around the floating islands of the bathroom, getting in a fight with a giant misshapen humanoid figure at the top of the lighthouse, and then throwing himself against the metal hide of a roomba that would be a threat to most Earth megafauna, he was a little sore. Slightly tense. Mildly bruised. Sunny was also hanging out with him because Anesh, JP, and Arrush had taken the same option as her own team, and hung back to try to rest and recover. And James was once again reminded that he was actually a lot harder to stop than most people. Especially Arrush; he really needed to keep in mind that his friend, even in a form upgraded over most baseline ratroaches, was actually pretty fragile. He could be vicious, but he wasn¡¯t invincible. ¡°What skill?¡± James asked offhandedly as he thought he saw one of the massive platforms that pretended to be normal ceiling tiles sway slightly. Was that them? Kirk and his group would have had almost six hours by now, given how the timing on the two different dungeon entrances worked. The whole area they were in was unfamiliar to James, but he attributed that to bad memory. How, exactly would he be able to spot the exact place he dropped out of the sky and saved Theo and Daniel from a tumblefeed? The entire problem with mapping the Office was that everything actually was just repeating cubicles forever. The points of interest were cool because anything stood out against an endless sea of beige and grey. ¡°History of municipal garbage collection.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight looked behind them, feeling silly as she said the words. If she was more integrated with the mechanical arms she was wearing, she would have twiddled her thumbs. ¡°Which is stupid.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t you have a Sewer lesson for history?¡± James asked. ¡°Also which part is stupid?¡± He sighed as he let the binoculars drop on the strap that held them bound to his armor, and settled his back against the sturdy support pillar that made up the corner of the intersection they were stopped at. A cubicle wall and a water cooler ahead of them, dirt from the smashed potted plant spread across the left side path, it all looked like every other row of cubicles in here. A little bit twisted, and certainly too large, but still just a slightly weird office environment. Repeated for the five thousandth time. The camraconda girl swung her body back around to peek around the corner as she spoke in her low digital voice, the motion not changing that her words came from the same spot with the speakers centered on her body harness. ¡°It¡¯s my first skill.¡± She said, putting a glum note into her artificial words. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be¡­ special, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡±Sunny, my first skill was for arranging phone books. No one gets a first skill they can use.¡± ¡±Alanna got one for snowboarding!¡± ¡±And?¡± James snorted. ¡°Last week, we were on the Climb, a literally perfect place for it, and no snowboarding happened. This is just how it goes, not every skill changes your life.¡± He paused, then glanced at Frequency with a worried frown. ¡°That was your first skill?¡± He asked. She hissed in annoyance. ¡°I was trying to be symbolic with it! I wanted to steal something from this stupid place!¡± She James could understand that. ¡°Okay, but still¡­ I dunno, I feel like you guys are part of the Order, you know? You deserve to share the magic we¡¯re finding.¡± ¡±Oh! Yeah, no, that¡¯s cool. I just ate all the orbs for a while. Then I stockpiled them, for, you know¡­ later? After we learned that I could eat pizza and also security footage.¡± ¡±That¡¯s still weird to me.¡± ¡±Whatever, you¡¯ll get used to it. In ¡®a week¡¯ probably.¡± The overt sarcasm had James laughing before he realized why or what he was laughing at. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± His camraconda escort focused on him, her camera eye twitching slightly. ¡°The big Climb delver, the one I didn¡¯t get to go on? The one two months ago? It¡¯s almost¡­ uh¡­ Juuuuune?¡± She broke off looking at him and whipped her head away. ¡°Month names are stupid. It¡¯s almost number six.¡± ¡±That¡¯s June, you¡¯re right.¡± James wanted to pat her on the head but felt it might be weird. She abandoned her position instantly. ¡°Month names are fine then.¡± ¡±Also I¡¯ve been busy and tired, you can¡¯t expect me to look at¡­ uh¡­ the calendar app that I have in my skulljack for exactly this reason.¡± James utterly failed to defend himself. ¡°Anyway. Did you get your lesson up?¡± ¡±Yup! Took another point in solidity, since my memory is apparently the bestest and so I didn¡¯t need any of that. So I¡¯m two and two with that and malleability.¡± She caught James opening his mouth and hissed at him in a shushing way. ¡°They don¡¯t cancel out, they work together. I¡¯m all bendy when I need to be, but things that hit me too hard bounce off. It¡¯s really cool, and also I sorta feel different? Like I can feel more through my outsides.¡± James nodded. ¡°That is really cool. You¡¯re also gaining levels in that lesson so damn fast compared to me. I¡¯m a bit jealous.¡± ¡±Specialization is for insects, like that one guy said.¡± She nodded, agreeing with something James wasn¡¯t clear on. ¡°¡­That¡­ what? No, you¡¯re not¡­ Sunny do you think you¡¯re a bug?¡± ¡±Aren¡¯t snakes a kind of insect?¡± She tilted her head in confusion. ¡±I legitimately can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re messing with me.¡° James sighed as he raised his binoculars and kept scanning the ceiling. He knew the other team was up there, they¡¯d had a brief radio communication. But there was at least one wi-figment around here, and it was active enough that talking that way just wasn¡¯t safe. ¡°Oop, I think I see something. Zhu, wake up.¡± James said the words, even though it wasn¡¯t actually speaking that prodded the navigator awake, but instead a state of mind he had to push himself into. He lowered his eyes before dropping the optics. Looking at the ceiling this deep into the dungeon was actually a risk; sometimes the lights were hypnotic. The tint wasn¡¯t just so he didn¡¯t blind himself. James and Frequency moved forward by a few hundred cubicles as Zhu started to manifest, only delayed slightly by a maul cart trying to run James over, and a pack of particularly angry but not especially cunning living staplers attempting to swarm James. He¡¯d been noticing a pattern around here. The native life just didn¡¯t attack Sunny unless she was actively working against them. They collected the orbs, used a few of them, and kept moving. [+1 Skill Rank : Music - Hip Hop - Japanese] [+1 Skill Rank : Fabrication - Gears - Wooden - Manual Carving] [+1 Skill Rank : Agriculture - Soybeans - Planting] ¡±I¡¯m gonna retire from the Order and become something else.¡± James declared. ¡±I¡¯m gonna retire from the Order and be something even dumber.¡± Sunny shot back. ¡°I got a point in beans.¡± ¡±Soybeans?¡± ¡±Yeah! How¡¯d you know? Also what¡¯s a soybean? Why do I know how to grow soybeans but not what one is?¡± James shook his head and wrote down a quick note on the overlap, forgoing his skulljack tools while there was a potential digital invader in the area. ¡±Weird coincidence, and I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± They kept going, passing cubicles that were definitely populated but by creatures that didn¡¯t try to kill them as they moved through the corridor. Heading toward where the ceiling was showing signs of motion, Zhu kept them moving in the right direction as he finally got his feathers out and shrugged off the lingering sleepiness of his nap, while the more physical duo kept an eye out for anything threatening. And James, specifically, kept an eye out for the little moments of weirdness that reminded him that they were somewhere odd. A vending machine advertising so/da, with a recycling bin next to it that had never had a single can thrown in its pristine plastic shell. An office chair spinning under its own power in an empty cubicle. One of those cubicles that James found mildly racist done up like a stereotype of a Japanese environment and with a few masks made of sticky notes hanging silently on the walls. The distant sound of something chiming cheerfully, and the less distant smell of fresh coffee in a place with no one to brew it. Everything looking perfectly mundane until they turned a corner and were met with a flowering desk phone. Cheap black plastic and the curly stretchy cable that connected the handset to the base exploded across a cubicle wall. Only it wasn¡¯t destroyed, it was a living, growing, vibrant piece of life. Sunken spots for handsets dug copper wire roots into the wall, while bursts of black curls bloomed in splotches. Rubber and plastic and a few silicon components, occasionally ringing softly as the air conditioning rustled them ever so slightly. The whole thing looking so peacefully weird that James wanted to reach out and pick up one of the receivers, until Sunny froze him in place and he realized what he was about to touch. ¡°Incoming.¡± Zhu spoke suddenly, pointing upward with an arm that was more like a thin wing, getting incorporeal feathers in James¡¯ face as he did. Frequency-Of-Sunlight arched her body back, the cables that made up her form creaking slightly under her armor as she twisted to look upward. ¡°Ooh, don¡¯t see that often!¡± She commented at the ceiling tile that was tipping sideways dramatically enough that it was noticeable from forty feet below on the ground. She was the local expert, so James deferred to her knowledge. ¡°Looks like we found ¡®em then. Oh, yup!¡± Overhead, he watched as the tilted platform wobbled, the lights mounted in it not even flickering as they tilted back and forth. Another tile suddenly moved with an impact from overhead, then another, revealing itself to be much closer to the floor than the ones above it. The optical illusion of the ceiling broken as motion made it clear that it wasn¡¯t at all one unbroken surface. ¡°Wait, Zhu, what did you mean by-¡° ¡±Incoming!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight happily called as the angular form of a hang glider launched itself off the platform. Then a second behind it, though pointed down at a slightly worrying angle. Then the third one rolled off the edge, and she made an abrupt hissing screech that definitely got noticed by things living in the cubicles around them. ¡°James! Incoming!¡± Her artificial voice was a lot less happy this time around. James had barely started to widen his eyes as he watched multiple shapes - people - tumble over the edge, one with a glider that was more of a problem than a solution, two others without anything to stop the fall. He was already moving before he really processed his shock, Zhu working in his vision to calculate fall speed, time to impact, and angle of approach. They were close to directly below the falling figures, but not exactly, and what looked like a small difference added up to James needing to clear a lot of space very quickly, which was hard when there was a double row of cubicles in the way. Zhu gave him a vector and was trying to say something important, but James only heard his own heartbeat and the noise of cheap plywood creaking under him as his dash took him up onto a desk, and he vaulted over a cubicle wall to try to land feet first on the identical desk on the other side. A flick of intent and [Move Person] grabbed Sunny to the hallway in front of him, letting the camraconda bypass the athletics as James slid to the floor and nearly tripped over the four different chairs inexplicably piled in this cubicle. It took them maybe ten seconds, which was enough time that all three figures hit the ground. The one in the hang glider who had managed to force it into place to start slowing their descent impacted a tall cubicle wall right in front of where James and Zhu were running to try to help somehow. The mildly carpet covered material snapping and folding under the sudden impact and doing very little to soften it. From the other side of this new hallway, there was a crunch as one of the other two falling figures went through an overhanging piece of cubicle ceiling and then smashed into what was probably the computer monitor inside the cubicle itself. The third figure, a human man trailing an orange feathered aura, just slammed into the floor right next to Frequency, her reaction time not fast enough to stop him. James froze, a gnawing dread in his gut as he tried to pick out who it was that had just carved a line through the wall in front of them. There was blood on the wobbling edge of the cubicle, the powdery material that had been ripped in half having also gotten its revenge on the falling failed glider pilot. Out in the hall, Kirk made a gasping wheeze that turned into a pitiful groan of pain, and the sound snapped James into action. ¡°Check him!¡± He pointed at the downed man with a carpet of orange feathers laying limp under him, as he stepped up to his own victim and pulled a chunk of broken cubicle aside. They¡¯d fallen from the lowest ceiling tile. That was still at least twenty feet up, probably closer to thirty. James tried not to think about how fatal that was supposed to be as he and Zhu shoved debris aside to get at the fallen person. The Order had a lot of ways to improve durability, but one too many broken bones and a snapped neck would still kill someone. Internal bleeding would still kill someone. So many things that falling from that high could do would kill someone. The glider had one of its struts snapped and another bent in a position that was wrapping the cloth around a limb, so James rapidly drew Breath to push into the spell that would grow him a bonus limb out of ice. Making that limb essentially a single joint with the sharpest edge he could, he promptly ruined that edge before dismissing the arm into broken fragments, cutting a line through the cloth and a twisted handle to free the person inside. ¡±Ow.¡± Was what he was pretty sure Chevoy was trying to say. Her face was a ruin of blood, mouth sagging open with her jaw in a position that was grotesquely broken, and James had to struggle not to wretch as he realized that she¡¯d left a pair of her teeth in the side of the wall as she¡¯d fallen into it. But she breathing, and that meant they could fix the rest of it later. ¡±Don¡¯t fucking move.¡± He told her, Zhu¡¯s taloned hand supporting the back of her head while James pulled her out of the glider¡¯s harness and let her lay flat instead of held upward at an angle by the broken contraption. James was going to start a medical check, but instead snapped his head up at Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s alarmed hiss. Coming down the hallway to their left were a pair of inhuman figures; sharp professional dress and perfectly normal appearances tinted with the hint of the alien that made it very clear they were not people. ¡°You don¡¯t fucking move either!¡± James pointed threateningly at them. Which didn¡¯t work. One of them let out a canine howl, dropping to all fours and bursting into a dash toward them, the other one frozen in place. James didn¡¯t have time to pivot fully to face it before it was on him, so he reflexively tried out the magic on his left hand¡¯s glove that broke wood to see if it would work on something made of paper. It didn¡¯t, and his punch landed with force mostly from the paper pusher¡¯s lunge. But it did land, sending the thing slightly off course and crashing into James¡¯ leg instead of bowling him over. Instantly it started grabbing at him, hands twisting as it snarled and tried to gnaw through his armor. It locked into place around him as Sunny swapped targets, the second one letting out its own howl and starting to run as she gave James a window to act. He took it, pulling his foot up and stomping twice as hard as he could on the thing¡¯s head. It cracked open on the second impact, dust leaking from it like a wound, but that wasn¡¯t enough to kill one of these things. The second one reached him almost at the same time Sunny did, the camraconda slithering past him a lot faster than James thought of them as being able to move. One of her mechanical limbs lashing forward with a blade gripped in it, a flare of copper light coming from one of the many earrings she was wearing as she put the perfect strike power to use. She cut the second paper pusher¡¯s arm off without looking at it, still staring at the one James was trying to kill even as she danced around him like he was a piece of terrain, dueling the faster second enemy with precise cuts. Zhu¡¯s arm raked talons across the one the camraconda was fighting, opening up more gashes leaking dust and confetti along with her own stabs. On the fifth stomp, James ground his heel into the paper pusher¡¯s neck and separated its head from its body, and that finally killed it, freeing up Sunny to freeze the second one and decapitate it too. ¡±Yellow or green?!¡± James asked abruptly of the camraconda. She hissed back at him in confusion. ¡°The orb, yellow or green?¡± ¡±This one¡¯s green.¡± ¡±Shit. Yellow here. We should have saved more of the others.¡± James grabbed the ball out of the corpse. ¡°We need to move, they absolutely made too much noise. Get Kirk, give him yellows.¡± Frequency nodded at him and slithered to comply, her hands slotting the knife back into its spot on her flank and trying to carefully pull yellow orbs out of the pouch she was wearing. James took the bigger one and rushed back to Chevoy. ¡°Here.¡± He pressed it into her hand. ¡°Absorb this. You know how?¡± She groaned but didn¡¯t try to nod. Instead working to focus on the process, her eyes slipping in and out of focus. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s bad.¡± Zhu whispered next to James¡¯ ear. ¡°She¡¯s dying. Slowly, but¡­¡± Chevoy heard him, and took it as a challenge, her vision sharpening as she pulled on the yellow orb in her hand and then sucked it into her body. Instead of a skill rank, earning herself operational time. And suddenly, her injuries weren¡¯t killing her. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. They weren¡¯t getting better, but they weren¡¯t killing her. ¡±Uuahghhha.¡± She slurred out a non-word as she let James help her to her feet. ¡°Uh eh eider!¡± The orb¡¯s power did nothing for her broken jaw. ¡°Eider. Uck.¡± Chevoy looked around in a way that was absolutely not good for any broken bones she had under her armor. ¡±Spider?¡± James asked. ¡°Vent spider?¡± Chevoy nodded, and James grimaced. ¡°Okay. Zhu?¡± ¡±Got it. It landed this way. Also she means we need to help it.¡± The navigator cut through a knot he saw in the tangled local paths. It was exhausting, but everything was these days, and if they needed to help someone, time mattered. ¡°Over or around?¡± He asked James. James didn¡¯t think about it very long. ¡±Over. Faster.¡± He got a line of orange light that took him through a gap in the cubicle wall, the whole row of the structures a little bit out of alignment since two people crashed into them. The path was more like through, but he and Zhu didn¡¯t have the time to banter and focus as they found the cracked and leaking form of one of the spider creatures that lived up overhead laying on its side on the desk. It had shattered the computer monitor on the way down, and had done enough incidental damage that there were three blue orbs and one red rolling off the edge of the desk. The creature was a rectangular body, no attempt made to hide the inorganic nature of its edges. A circular indentation on its side held a slowly turning intake fan, matching a few others on its back. A neck of ventilation pipe poked out from the front about a foot before ending in a face that was made up of several loops of heavy cabling. The three loops stretched out from a central point like flower petals, the empty space in the middle of each of them holding a hovering LED that was probably an eye of sorts. It had eight legs that looked like hinged fan blades - heavy fan blades too - though they didn¡¯t seem that sharp to James. He¡¯d never gotten a good look at these things when he¡¯d been running from them a couple years back. Up close and injured like this, it just¡­ looked normal to him. Maybe that was the result of too much dungeon delving. James approached, reaching for more orbs in his pouch, and the vent spider struggled to get its legs up, sudden flailing causing it to screech in pain and further leak a cool blue blood onto the desk. ¡°We¡¯re here to help!¡± James stepped back, holding up his hands with Zhu¡¯s extra arm fanned out from his own in the same position. He palmed a yellow orb, pulling it up to his fingers and reaching out to the creature. ¡°Can you absorb this? We can get you to someone who can save you, if you can make it.¡± The spider looked at him with its two surviving eyes as one of them flickered and died. The loops of cord pulled back against its head like it was wilting. It slumped without a sound, and let its bladed legs drop to allow James to approach, which he did without hesitation, not even considering if it would try to hurt him. It was broken, and he was armored, and besides, Chevoy had said it needed help. So he pressed the yellow orb against it, and when the creature managed to absorb it, he added a few more of the smaller orbs to make sure it had enough time. ¡±Come on.¡± James said, offering an arm under its body to help it off the desk. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the others. We need to get you real help before those run out.¡± The trip back was almost a worse battle of attrition than James had felt the beetle was. The noise of the fall and the howling paper pushers seemed to have everything riled up, or wandering in from other places seeking prey. He lost one of his hatchets to a shellaxy that almost bit his hand off, both his thermite weapons to a tumblefeed that rampaged in looking for a fight, the chest plate of his armor to a 2.0 that wanted to pursue a career as a sniper, and a small amount of his blood to a mixed group of smaller creatures that kept laying ambushes like they were an army and not wildlife. But they did get back. They even managed to rendezvous with the two who had actually gotten down safely, John and a woman James hadn¡¯t met before both having a million apologies for their wounded teammates that got silenced before they attracted more trouble. After stumbling back through the camp¡¯s perimeter, their two medics had rushed to check over the damage to the humans, while Mars took a closer look at the more mechanical wounded. Deb had rapidly reached the conclusion that the two needed to get the fuck out of the dungeon, immediately. The Order had the tools to keep them alive, but they were all back at the Lair. Medico authorities and shaper substance and extra copies of certain purple orbs. Even that might not be enough; Kirk had some serious internal bleeding going on. But Deb projected confidence, and if nothing else, they could feed the two an endless supply of yellow orbs to keep them alive. The spider was harder. Mars said he could probably repair the damage, but its insides were part organic, so he wasn¡¯t sure if that was all that would matter. But Kirk, still in intense pain from his injuries even if they weren¡¯t stopping him, insisted that they do everything they could. So Deb and Mars had taken the trio home, their teammates going along to help move them, the whole group taking the hit of powerful nausea and pain from teleporting out of Officium Mundi in exchange for getting them directly to the best medical care the Order could provide. It would be days before the expedition would know if they¡¯d survived, or what had happened in the ceiling. And the event cast a grim mood over the rest of the day as they continued to travel deeper into the dungeon. _____ ¡°This is weird, right?¡± Alex asked James and Zhu as she tossed a thick blanket over the softly buzzing electromagnet on the floor of the cave. Well, the magnet, and also the several hundred flying thumbtacks and pins that would be happy to exsanguinate all of them if given the chance. It might not even work on Zhu, but they¡¯d still try. Nearby, Arrush looked up from where he was crouched down with his angular insectile face pressed up against one of the crystal water jugs growing out of the floor. The cave was full of the things, the ones overhead slowly dripping down to fill the ones below, odd angles not changing that the drops lined up perfectly. Most of the time. There was an oval pond in the middle of the cave, sunken down into the hard concrete floor. It wasn¡¯t clear if it was the crystal that was glowing, or the water, or a combination of the two, but the whole place was washed in light that sparkled on everything it touched, leaving even their black armor shells looking opalescent. James didn¡¯t look back at Alex as he moved around the external wall, tapping different spots and listening for a good metallic ringing as he played his light across the shadowy parts of the cave. ¡°Which part?¡± He asked. ¡°The part where we¡¯re doing what feels like ¡®normal¡¯ Office operations, the part where it feels like we should have planned for a month and not a week to actually get deeper into this place, or the part where¡­ where people nearly died, and¡­¡± He took a breath, trying to push back the wave of grim emotion. ¡±That part.¡± Alex nodded. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be doing something?¡± ¡±Got any healing spells?¡± Zhu asked, jumping into the conversation. Alex met his eye. ¡±You know we don¡¯t, man.¡± She said with a hint of real anger. James sighed and placed his free hand on Zhu¡¯s arm. ¡°Yeah, Alex. That¡¯s¡­ Zhu stop being an ass. What he¡¯s getting at is that we¡¯re not doctors, or healers. I¡¯m barely a medic, you somehow ended up way better at that stuff than me.¡± ¡±I hang out with Deb a lot and all her doctory orbs have diminishing returns, so I ended up with them.¡± Alex shrugged, downplaying the fact that she was qualified to work in any hospital in the world if she wanted and could fake the credentials. ¡°But.¡± She squared up her shoulders and paused for ten seconds to calm down. ¡°I get it. I get that we can¡¯t help. But we¡¯re just¡­ still going? Doing normal resource extraction? Like it¡¯s all normal?¡± James held out his hand and Zhu slipped the back off an adhesive sticker before handing it off so that James could slap it onto the wall. They weren¡¯t the ones handling the actual extraction, they were just here to make sure the cave was safe enough for the others to come in. Some of the noncombatants from Research wanted to see the place, and James didn¡¯t blame them. It really was beautiful. The whole place felt like a dragon¡¯s hoard to him. The crystal that gleamed with magic light, the way even the defenders were shiny points of glimmering metal, the perfect arrangement of it all. Even the dull silver streaks of metal in the walls were actually silver, and not just steel rebar supports. And many of them hid a deep treasure of this dungeon; microchips made of industrial emerald, that would happily grow a single program each. The code would look like gibberish to even an expert programmer, but it would work. If you let it grow long enough. It just didn¡¯t feel like somewhere that was left abandoned. It felt purposeful, but not in the way the Office tended to make its little biomes. But they never found any dragons living in the caves; so far the only one James had seen had nested in a server room instead. He sighed as he marked another exposed silver circuit. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± James said stiffly, the words barely coming out. ¡°I don¡¯t. It¡¯s¡­ this doesn¡¯t happen, you know? People don¡¯t get hurt in dungeons. Not like this. It¡¯s Earth that¡¯s dangerous. This is supposed to be¡­¡± He trailed off, staring at the wall illuminated by his flashlight and Zhu¡¯s orange aura. Silently, Arrush rose and padded over to James before tentatively reaching out one of his main arms. Zhu¡¯s eye locked onto the ratroach and the navigator gave a quick nod before adjusting where he was manifested, letting Arrush reach in to give James a light hug with his multitudinous limbs. ¡°It will be¡­ okay.¡± He said, trying not to drip corrosive drool on James¡¯ head. James leaned back into Arrush, taking a surprising amount of comfort in the hug even when they were both armored. ¡°I hope so. I mean, we¡¯ve got so many options. Maybe they just dunk Kirk in a tub of blue orbs, right?¡± James tried out a laugh. ¡°Hey, uh¡­ not to interrupt you guys or anything.¡± Alex said lightly as she circled around the other side of the cave tapping her boot on one of the water tanks that was oddly dark compared to the others. ¡°But can we get a reality check on James saying people don¡¯t get hurt in dungeons?¡± ¡±Not hurt like that.¡± James clarified. ¡°Not¡­ not dead. People don¡¯t die in dungeons. With several notable exceptions.¡± Arrush placed a paw on the back of James¡¯ head. ¡°That is¡­ the dumbest thing you have said.¡± He rasped out. ¡°So many people die in these places. Please¡­ please be more careful?¡± ¡±Yeah dude, like, are you forgetting the five or so people who bit it when you rescued my ass from this place? Or how many kids the Sewer ate. Or how many ratroaches the Sewer ate?!¡± Alex was working up a good momentum. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what the casualty rate for the Climb is, but it¡¯s probably close to ¡®yes¡¯! And the Attic¡­!¡± James twisted around to face her over the softly glowing pond of water, a few stray drops falling between them as he wrapped an arm around Arrush¡¯s offputtingly thin waist. ¡°No no, go on. I wanna know about how lethal Clutter Ascent is.¡± ¡±¡­I didn¡¯t plan this far ahead when I started yelling.¡± Alex admitted. ¡°But come on.¡± ¡±No, yeah, you¡¯re right.¡± James admitted himself. ¡°The first time Anesh and I came in here, we nearly died repeatedly. I broke his arm on delve number two.¡± He shuddered, still remembering the first time he¡¯d felt a bone snap under his attack, and also remembering how it was someone he loved in a stupid accident. ¡°I¡¯m being an idiot. But I thought we took so many precautions, and we¡¯re still¡­¡± ¡±We¡¯re still in a dungeon.¡± Alex said. ¡°I think this place is less openly pissed off than everywhere else, but it¡¯s still fine killing us.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Like, I¡¯m actually surprised that the stuff in the darker water tanks here isn¡¯t some kind of living acid monster.¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, everyone thinks that.¡± James laughed in a rush of catharsis. ¡°It¡¯s actually just water. We¡¯ve tested a bunch of them.¡± He untangled himself from Arrush as he stretched, trying to banish the lingering soreness in his body that was the result of accumulated damage and not something an exercise potion could fix. ¡°Did you check the other slope out of here? We can finish up tagging the walls and then¡­ I dunno, go explore more while the others take this place apart.¡± ¡±It comes out on a little ledge, yeah.¡± Alex said, looking at where the floor shifted from concrete back to carpet on the far side of the cave. ¡°There was a big flat space, and a couple big printers or something wandering around, but they¡¯re down a few feet and didn¡¯t see me, so I think it¡¯s fine.¡± She looked at the blanket she¡¯d tossed on the floor earlier. ¡°What¡¯re we doing about the pinpoints?¡± ¡±Oh, they¡¯ll be fine.¡± James said, gently stopping Arrush from nudging the heavy covering with a claw. ¡°We¡¯ll let them go when we¡¯re done.¡± Alex shrugged. ¡°Sure. I mean, I guess. It¡¯s weird that we let them live when they try to kill us a lot more than the staplers, right? We don¡¯t even know if they drop an orb.¡± Arrush gave a wet chuckle. ¡°Do you want to break all of them?¡± He asked with a lopsided grin. Then he brightened up - somewhat literally as he opened his mouth - as he had an idea. ¡°I could melt them. Might be faster?¡± ¡±Melt them how?¡± Zhu asked with a confused rumble to his voice. ¡±Please don¡¯t puke on the tiny wasp things that might not die from it.¡± James rubbed a hand across his face. ¡°Best case scenario, we get a few orbs. Worst case, the flying stabby things are now covered in acid. And vomit. And acid vomit.¡± ¡±¡­I have other fluids.¡± Arrush sullenly offered. ¡±Wow does that not make it better.¡± Alex patted him on the shoulder as she hopped over the pond and took a stack of the sticker flags from Zhu. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I asked, let¡¯s wrap this up.¡± _____ [+4 Skill Ranks - Alpaca] ¡±You know, I¡¯ve got this many skill ranks in artillery bombardment too, and that one¡¯s never come up. Anyone want to take bets whether I get my hands on a huacaya or a mortar first?¡± No one took James up on his bet. _____ Deeper in with every passing hour, the Order¡¯s expedition slowly shed the feeling of anxiety about their wounded. With no way to get news from outside, and an assumption that they had enough magical bullshit to keep anyone alive through something that wasn¡¯t instant death, they pressed on and slowly the mood improved. Officium Mundi only sometimes shifted its layout, which made maps of it stable. But this far in, the only map was a half remembered escape from over a year ago. They were past the first big wall, past where they knew all the tricks and traps, and into the places where Officium Mundi started getting strange. Or at least, strange to them. New and weird, novel and dangerous. Progress slowed, as they took every turn in the endless halls and new open space carefully. Scouting and watching, making sure nothing could catch the large group off guard. Making sure no new serious injuries manifested. But progress was still happening. Sometimes the Office got one over on them. Like when Vadik, not paying attention, got his leg snapped up in a cardboard box that had lunged at him and then folded together like a bear trap on the closest limb. The spikes of it were sharper than cardboard should be allowed to be, but fortunately failed to penetrate his armor. Once he was pried out of the trap, the box had almost instantly folded itself back into looking like a normal package sitting next to a desk. At least, up until they¡¯d dismantled it and a small red orb had dropped from the trap. That was a relief, honestly. James wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d be able to cope with worrying that cardboard boxes were alive. If they were just complicated ¡®traps¡¯, that was a lot easier to work with. Sometimes they almost incidentally countered whatever showed up to challenge them. As when they stopped to investigate one of the bizarrely out of place windows that couldn¡¯t possibly show the outside, and sometimes spat birds made of partly-molten glass at them. That was when James got to learn that [Melt Glass] was a blue orb power that apparently a few people had picked up from a copy test that didn¡¯t really enter standard use, and had just been kicking around for a while. And also that the partly part of partly-molten was important to the birds not just falling apart. The birds dropped the smallest green orbs James had ever seen, along with a few yellows each. They still didn¡¯t know what was going on with the dungeon doing this; they¡¯d seen life drop multiple orbs before, but it seemed like the deeper in they went, the more common it was getting, even though that had never been the case before. Sometimes they made friends. Actually they made a lot of friends. The animalistic shellaxies were increasingly aggressive as they moved inward, but that didn¡¯t make them evil, and they responded well to treats even when they didn¡¯t end up following the caravan. Striders and tapirs though were capable of developing a sharper intellect, and while some of the smart ones did subscribe to the kill or be killed cutthroat philosophy of the dungeon, many still chose to take a chance riding along in the carts. Especially after they saw others like them, Ganesh or Magneto or sometimes Frequency-Of-Sunlight when she didn¡¯t scare them off just by being a camraconda. They were even pretty sure that the expedition had a wi-figment following them without being openly hostile, which was amazing. It suited James fine. Orbs were great, but they were long past the point where they ever needed to kill a single Office life to get more magic. He knew it wasn¡¯t the only opinion, but he¡¯d be fine getting by with blues and reds forever at this point, along with a growing pluralism to his world. Sometimes they just had proper fights. Where the dungeon threw something dangerous at them, with no remorse or expectation of anything but checking to see if it could kill them, and they had to fight. And when the residents of the dungeon used their cunning for violence, it could be a potentially lethal threat. That was what had happened when a paper pusher had shown up prepared for an ambush, leading with a purple orb infomorph curse that had Myles instantly dropping every weapon he had, and then following it up by brandishing a yellow legal pad and a glowing pen while ordering a collection of striders and some kind of keyboard-plated armadillo things to distract the rest of the team. He hated to admit it, but James liked that, too. Maybe Alanna was rubbing off on him, but he found the direct confrontation to be refreshingly direct. And after they¡¯d routed the enemy, leaving most of the smaller creatures alive once the paper pusher was down, they got to take the legal pad that stole plans, a pen that was basically a flaming sword by shorter, and also a dozen other items the paper pusher had collected. James wasn¡¯t sure if the watch it had on was magic, but he wanted to find out. Sometimes they found bizarre geometry. Like the long staircase that went both up and down a level, standing out in the middle of a hundred packed cubicles in an area with a low ceiling, and also the only time they¡¯d ever seen stairs here. Glass railings and speckled stone steps giving it a professional, clean look, as it threatened to open up even more territory to exploration. The staircase led to itself. Climbing it had a delver arrive up from the bottom level. Descending had them come down from above. It was disorienting and weird, and no one could find the orange orb powering it. Zhu offered, but said it would probably be a ¡°staircase sized misadventure¡±, so James passed on that one. Sometimes, they just observed Officium Mundi, and learned about it. The place wasn¡¯t just a deathtrap. Some dungeons were, James was willing to admit that. But the Office seemed to have offloaded a lot of the hostility onto pseudo-natural processes. The place did have an ecosystem, it was just hidden under layers of weirdness and hard to figure out. But there were loose dangling lines of staples growing like moss in the shadows under desks that the staplers ate. There was evidence of combat and even predation between the different creatures of these cubicle walls. There were places where it became clear that the orbs weren¡¯t just spawned from nothing; or at least not always. James had known that the orbs could grow organically. Back home, Rufus had even done it, somehow. Made a vine that grew a withered little yellow orb that had died before it ¡®ripened¡¯ and didn¡¯t even give a skill point. But he¡¯d done it. Here, those vines grew below them, in the undercubes, seemingly accessible only through the walls of the great canyons they had to cross sometimes. Great black tangles of rubber and copper, that, if you went deep enough, you could find orbs blooming on if they hadn¡¯t been stripped already by something that lived here. And the deeper in they went, the more alive the dungeon became. The more bountiful, the more different ways the life was clearly part of an ecosystem. Competing theories emerged about what the nature of it all ways, but James personally had started to feel that the first few miles out by the door were just the barren outskirts. The sticks of the dungeon, where those who had given up or couldn¡¯t survive in the healthier and more magical zones ended up. And sometimes, sometimes, they found magic. _____ A narrow gap through a thick collection of walls that never seemed to actually form cubicles had led them to an open floor plan office space. Standing desks and a few whiteboards stood around haphazardly on a smooth, softly colored wood panel floor. Unnatural natural light from a fake window set on a structural pillar made the place feel more comfortable and real, if you discounted the fact that you could see behind the pillar and knew the window was opened to nowhere at all. Near the middle of the floor, an aquarium held what looked like perfectly normal fish, which was almost certainly a lie. James had been certain they were going to get ambushed in the narrow gap. He remembered going through one of those with Anesh roughly a billion years ago, and getting swarmed almost instantly. But this one was empty, all the way up to the vines of dot matrix printer paper covering the end like an ancient ruin, which was a bit ominous. But maybe they were just avoiding whatever had happened on the other side of the passage. The mostly clear space was a couple hundred feet long and maybe fifty across, which made it feel way too large to be contained here, and yet also crowded in by the looming eight foot tall cubicle walls that surrounded the space in angular waves, looking almost tessellated as they closed in the glass desks and art deco lamps. All thousand square feet were covered in the aftermath of a fight. Loose papers still fluttered under the breeze of the air conditioning where they¡¯d fallen to the floor. Black ichor splattered various surfaces in sprays that often ended in pools of the stuff around dead staplers, computer mice, and something that looked like a particularly pointy drafting tool with dry erase markers for legs. An offshoot of a strider, maybe, though still dead here among the other bodies. The whole place looked like some kind of force had flung stuff out from the center, but very selectively. One of the slanted desks had its glass surface shattered. It had broken in a way that left a semicircle punched out of it like some kind of massive hole puncher had just taken it to town, and left the shards scattered underneath it. At least one standing lamp was knocked over and smoldering, so James made a mental note that those light bulbs could be traps too and to make sure he didn¡¯t get caught by them. That thought got shared over skulljack tactical link almost instantly to his teammates. It wasn¡¯t clear who was fighting for what side, but there was one last thing that was of critical importance as James and Zhu knelt at the gap and let Anesh look over his head. ¡°That¡¯s a green totem.¡± Anesh said, pointing at the largest body. James had only ever seen one green totem, in a cubicle tower here in this dungeon, before he¡¯d yoinked a few dozen camracondas out of the place. But this one certainly looked similar. The green orb hovered over the ruin of a paper pusher, the creature¡¯s cardstock skin pulled up and around the sphere in a spiral pattern like it was cradling it in place without daring to touch it. The paper pusher¡¯s blank face split in half, part of it laying on the floor in a pool of strider ichor, the other half hanging like it was magnetized to the space a few inches from the side of the orb. The corpse formed a bizarre pattern in tandem with the green. And it made James suspicious. ¡°So how did we find this place?¡± He asked. ¡±What does it do?¡± Arrush asked from farther back, unable to see the totem. ¡±Well, the last one made it so anyone hostile couldn¡¯t find the place.¡± James said. ¡°Not that we figured out what the parameters for hostile were. Or how to duplicate it.¡± ¡±I¡¯ve got a thought.¡± Anesh said. ¡°What made the first one?¡± ¡±Uh¡­ Morgan¡¯s mom.¡± James answered, still sweeping the room and tagging things in his skulljack. ¡°Oh. Right. Arrush, Bea, watch the lamps. The explode.¡± Bea made a noise that was almost an expression of emotion. ¡°Does anything in this environment not explode?¡± She asked with her dead monotone. ¡±Us, if we¡¯re careful.¡± ¡±Do you prepare these comments ahead of time?¡± She asked James. From anyone else, it might have sounded sarcastic or malicious, but from her it seemed like bland curiosity. He smiled to himself as he tried to focus his eyes on a dead strider with thick metal pen legs. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m just feeling spicy today. Anyway, Anesh, your thought?¡± ¡±Ah, right right. How did Morgan¡¯s mom make a totem?¡± ¡±I¡¯m not exactly clear on it, but I¡¯m pretty sure it was out of blood.¡± James said. ¡°Uh¡­ her own blood.¡± ¡±¡­Do green totems only work if they¡¯re made from dead people?¡± Anesh spoke quietly, staring at the twisted ruin of the paper pusher. It wasn¡¯t a good idea to jump to conclusions, but the second data point did kind of indicate in that direction. At the very least, where orange totems wanted more solid construction material and red totems tended to like things like wire and string, it might be safe to assume that green totems had a case of the bloodlusts. Though James refrained from saying that out loud, and just nodded slowly in partial agreement with his boyfriend. ¡°So, who wants to guess what these lil¡¯ guys were fighting over?¡± JP asked as he watched through the skulljack link. ¡°Not the orb, right?¡± James had a thought. ¡±The weird thing about the totem,¡± he slowly stated as he tried to put to words what was bothering him, ¡°is that the one in the camraconda nest wasn¡¯t made from a camraconda. It was made from a camraconda orb, but it was her own blood. So if this one is made from a paper pusher orb, who made the totem?¡± ¡±It sure looks like the stuffed shirt is part of the construction.¡± Anesh said, already looking at it with a mathematician''s eyes, seeing vectors and patterns in the chaotic motions of the shredded paper form. James shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s strider ichor in there, and one of them next to it. I think the stapler actually made it, and the corpse is incidental.¡± He said. ¡°Or maybe I¡¯m full of shit.¡± ¡±So is there a reason we¡¯re still in the cramped dark hole, and not poking it?¡± JP asked. ¡±We don¡¯t know what it¡¯s doing.¡± James said. ¡°So I¡¯m gonna move carefully and you pull me back if I start to melt or something.¡± ¡±What do you think green totems even do?¡± Anesh asked. ¡±Let¡¯s find out.¡± James inched forward, bit by bit, staying crouched as he reached out over the threshold. Nothing vaporized his fingers, and Zhu¡¯s feathered hand curled up on his own didn¡¯t react either, the infomorph still napping while manifested. ¡°Hm.¡± He stood, and ventured a full step inside. Something tugged against the back of his neck. And James was suddenly more grateful than ever for the late Virgil¡¯s work making the skulljack hardware that kept them from merging minds, because when his braid was ripped out, it just stung and didn¡¯t leave him with disorienting memory loss. Nothing else happened though. ¡±¡­Huh.¡± Anesh said, looking at where the cords had dropped to the floor behind James, peeled out of the slot in his armor. ¡°I wonder.¡± He tried to push the hardware forward with his boot, and found that it was like pushing against an immovable invisible wall. ¡°¡­Huh.¡± ¡±Bea, Anesh, JP, go back and get the others.¡± James said. ¡°Arrush and I will work on widening this passage. I get the feeling we¡¯re going to want to camp here tonight so the engineers can get a good look at this thing while it¡¯s active.¡± He looked over to the far wall of the space, and nodded as he realized what the totem had been made for. A whole chunk of the surrounding cubicle walls had been flattened outward, and the crushed remains of a tumblefeed lay in ruins amid the debris. The totem, at least as far as he could tell, repelled cables. ¡±Sunny is going to hate this.¡± Zhu muttered sleepily. ¡±Yeah, let¡¯s not put this one in the Lair.¡± James agreed. _____ Mars¡¯s Log. Day three. Probably. It¡¯s been two sleep cycles, so that feels like it should be day three. But I keep feeling like we¡¯re going to get out of here and learn that we¡¯ve only been gone for a couple days and we could have slowed down. Or that it¡¯s been a hundred years and everyone we know is dead. That one seems less likely, but at least the others will have finished the space elevator by then so I can piggyback off their hard work. Chevoy got hurt today. Pretty bad, too. Her face was just broken, I¡¯ve never seen anyone like that before. It¡¯s different than I expected. Don¡¯t know what I thought I¡¯d feel, but I just froze up while they took her the others out for emergency attention. Hope she¡¯ll be okay. I still need to tell. We¡¯ve got projects to finish, and it takes a while to explain all the magic to the new people. (Note to self : pitch idea for structured magic classes. Pros, faster integration, forced examination of capabilities, wizard school. Cons, wizard school, inevitable jokes about wizard school.) We¡¯ve stopped near a green orb construct. Davis and I are next to the thing right now, and he thinks I¡¯m taking notes. I don¡¯t even know what notes to make, so hopefully this helped get my brain juices flowing. All we know about the things so far is that they seem to repel things. This one repels cords. Physically. The last one prevented observation, though, so what was it repelling? Light? That doesn¡¯t make any sense, and I wish I could have seen it up close. It can¡¯t be just about repulsion. It needs to be something else. Pattern mapping and vector imaging is gonna be tricky, since there¡¯s certain stuff we can¡¯t get into the room. But Therm says she has a fix for h that. I assume it¡¯s dumb, or magic, or both. Maybe the constructs Nile¡¯s here now. Being condescending. If I just keep writing, maybe he¡¯ll shut up. He doesn¡¯t condescend to Davis cause they¡¯re both old, which is good, because I think Davis would hurt himself if he tried to put someone in a chokehold and he¡¯d try if Nile talked down to him. Maybe the constructs are drawing on what was hurting the people who made them. This one flattened a tumblefeed, the last one kept the dungeon from seeing the camracondas. Did the camracondas make that one? (Ask Frequency) Could be a connection. At least thinking about this is a good distraction. Still hope Chevoy is okay. Possible connection between the blood (body?) used to make them, and the effect. Human versus paper pusher. No real way to test it if we suspect it requires a death, but- Nile just said ¡®blood sweat and tears¡¯ and he might be onto something. Keeka says we¡¯re camping here today, so we¡¯ll have some time to work on this. Don¡¯t really feel like sleeping. Let¡¯s see if I can draw this freehand properly. At least the four different skills in art or drawing I got today will come in handy. End log (I should stop writing that bit) _____ Long Delve Report - Officium Mundi - Day Three Acquisitions Note : We¡¯ve stopped doing exact counts for now. Everyone is a bit too tired for that. Material Wealth Yellow Orbs (Size 1) : ~200 Yellow Orbs (Size 2) : ~50 Orange Orbs (Size 2) : ~20 Orange Orbs (Size 3) : ~10 Blue Orbs (Size 1) : ~50 Blue Orbs (Size 2) : ~10 Blue Orbs (Size 3) : 1 (Dave broke a chair) Purple Orbs (Size 1) : ~80 Purple Orbs (Size 2) : ~20 Red Orbs (Size 1) : ~200 Green Orbs (Size 2) : ~30 Green Orbs (Size 3) : ~10 Blue Items (Misc, unidentified) ~70 Ritual Coffee : ~90 bags Emerald Chips : ~150, +~60 lbs of processed silver Expedition Followers Striders : 14 Shellaxies : 2 iLipedes : 4 Wi-Figment : 1 (maybe) Camracondas : 2 (prisoners) Note : Cooperation from a portion of our strider friends let us teleport a good chunk of the acquired magic safely back to the entrance. Expedition Voted Best Candy Name Of The Day : Inbetween Chapter 269 ¡°People say ¡®phase¡¯ like impermanence means insignificance. Show me a permanent state of the self.¡± -thegirlwiththeloontattoo- _____ Camping in Officium Mundi was odd. It was quiet, with sound everywhere seeming muffled, right up until something was too loud. But that meant that when they settled in to rest for the ¡®night¡¯, it wasn¡¯t really possible to hear anything coming until it was right on top of them. It was also empty in places, which combined with the smothering silence to put everyone on edge, because it was impossible to know if this was the camp where nothing happened, or the camp where one of the office cats was going to wander in and try to rip someone in half. That last one hadn¡¯t happened, thankfully. The worst they¡¯d gotten was a run-in with a tumblefeed that had been as surprised as they were when it came over a wall and landed on the side of their resting spot. It had still tried to kill them, but they had knights with far better reaction times, and also thermite, the classic tool that James was actually surprised hadn¡¯t been replaced yet. When he¡¯d been in the Ceaseless Stacks, it had been quiet, and there¡¯d been constant pressure from hostile monsters, but it had felt much more wild. Winter¡¯s Climb had, for all that it contained structures and traffic lights, felt like camping in the great outdoors. Here, though, it felt wrong. It just felt like sleeping in an office, no matter how twisted the cubicles looked. James realized he was staring at the ¡®roof¡¯ of their camp and not actually asleep anymore. Sometimes he woke up this way, like he was asleep even after his eyes were open and he just sort of slowly came to his senses. They¡¯d cleared a fairly wide space, tearing down cubicle walls and making an external barrier of desks before setting up some of those same walls in small areas that provided shade from the eternal white lights overhead. The dungeon was full of traps, especially this deep, and it was simpler to say they cleared a camp than to have done it, but a couple dozen people working together were far more of a threat to the level design than a single delver team. Especially when they were planning to hunker down, and not just cutting a line through the terrain. He sat up, pushing the sleeping bag down and letting himself cool off. Of all the ways to wake up, James ranked this one pretty high. Below the way where he drifted out of sleep and then realized he didn¡¯t have anywhere to be and went back to dreaming, and certainly below the way where he woke up because his partners were fooling around on the bed near him and he got to sleepily watch. But miles above his least favorite method of waking up screaming from a trauma dream. That last method combined poorly with the voyeur style. Today was going to be their last day making further inward progress. And James knew that this expedition was going to need to be repeated with a longer timeline, because it felt like they¡¯d barely scratched the surface. Rough estimates put them maybe twenty kilometers into the dungeon, and there was no sign that it was close to being the end, even not counting the fact that they¡¯d carved a mostly straight line through, and that there were vast expanses of the space to every side that were untouched. Still, it was an opportunity for further growth. Despite saving the vast majority of the orbs for testing and copying, everyone had been using a few of them. James didn¡¯t really need the ability to smell pine better, or to know about color theory or the marketing behind restaurant menus, or to be better in tune with his emotional sense of hunger, but he had all those now. Little bits and pieces that, over time, added up in a person. James had a theory percolating in his head, that the reason the Order was full of people who were more mature and understanding than a lot of the assholes he¡¯d met ¡®out in the world¡¯ was just that it was really hard to not become a well rounded individual when those small orb bits added up over time. It was a little creepy, but also, it was what he wanted anyway, and he wasn¡¯t going to waste time acting like being a better person was undesirable. As James got ready, quietly clipping armor back into place and making sure all his gear was where he¡¯d left it before dropping unconscious and not dragged off by a curious stapler, he looked over at Anesh¡¯s still snoozing form. Well, Anesh, and who his boyfriend was sharing his sleeping bag with. Keeka apparently slept curled up in a ball, which meant only the rounded and ridged ends of his antenna were poking out under Anesh¡¯s chin while the two of them slept. ¡°Cute.¡± He spoke under his breath as he smiled and left their little portion of shade, leaving his bag behind for later. His last check before walking out into the bright light was to reach for the exhausted mental formation that was Zhu; the navigator resting in the back of James¡¯ mind like a folded map. He was still there, which was a relief. James had started to feel a constant sense of dread that Zhu wasn¡¯t getting better, and whatever Underburbs bullshit was infecting him, it wasn¡¯t something anyone knew how to fix. But for now, his friend was still there, just sleeping. He slept a lot these days. James had slept ¡®late¡¯ relative to some of the others. The rest of the delvers in their temporary indoor campsite were mostly up already, with Sunny¡¯s team already off doing local exploration. Despite the danger on all sides, and the increasing threats the deeper in they went, there was just something about being in a larger group that felt safer. In some situations, that feeling of safety would be an illusion. But here, it was a very real force multiplier that they were relying on. They weren¡¯t running away this time, they were deliberately making progress, and having a whole team of experts as backup made that possible every step of the way. Professional and magical medical aid on hand, structured guard rotations, even just having prepared food without having to worry about getting nougat poisoning from eating one too many Baby Things. So James was waking up feeling refreshed, not having been afraid of anything while he slept after his guard shift last ¡®night¡¯. His gear was fully loaded or charged or stocked, depending on what was needed. His damaged armor had been reshaped to full functionality by someone else¡¯s casual use of blue orbs during an unrelated problem. And now he got to have breakfast and flirt with Arrush before they went out to find something tremendous and awesome. It wasn¡¯t even really the ¡®last day¡¯ of the expedition. They¡¯d be looting everything they passed through as they traveled in a wide arc back toward the front door. New towers, especially, were priority targets for the ritual coffee they spawned and the Order relied on. James took a rolling chair, letting momentum slide him across the hard carpet to drift into place at a small table at Arrush¡¯s side. ¡±Our respective boyfriends are sleeping together.¡± James opened with, ignoring the other two people eating their breakfast out of collapsible plastic bowls. He¡¯d ignored at least half the rest of the table because one of the people was Nile, and while Arrush started to blush green and come up with a response, the older man cut off the banter by dropping his spoon and the binder of notes he¡¯d been reading, rolled his eyes, and gave an exasperated glare in James¡¯ direction. ¡°Must you do that?¡± He asked in a very put upon and indignant way. ¡±¡­Yes.¡± James said, only briefly glancing his way with a confused narrowing of his eyes. He wasn¡¯t actually confused, he knew what Nile¡¯s problem was, but James was still trying to be committed to giving him a second chance and not just stabbing him for his many crimes. A feat Nile had been making very challenging every time he¡¯d spoken to someone on this delve. James missed Amelia as their tagalong. ¡°So. Boyfriends.¡± He focused on Arrush. ¡±I am glad you slept well.¡± Arrush said diplomatically, his muzzle pointed upward as he tried to not focus his faceted eyes on James. James didn¡¯t accept the deflection, though he did take a second to appreciate that Arrush was, more and more, speaking with pronouns in his language. It was just satisfying to see his speech patterns flesh out over time. James grinned at the reaction. ¡°They¡¯re really, really cute. You can go look at them!¡± ¡±This is unprofessional.¡± Nile continued trying to interject. ¡±You¡¯re unprofessional!¡± The fourth person sitting at the table said. She was one of the new people, who James had seen around but hadn¡¯t had time to talk to yet since a lot of the expedition was divided by team and role, and with the exception of downtime at camp he wasn¡¯t spending a lot of time casually chatting with the others. ¡°And also an asshole.¡± She added, saying what James was thinking. He nodded. ¡°Yeah, Nile, can you dial back the hostility? We¡¯re really trying to accommodate you on the dungeon experience thing, and you¡¯re making it really hard to want to put up with your shit.¡± James glanced at the new girl. ¡°Also hi. I¡¯m James, sorry I haven¡¯t made a chance to say hello so far.¡± ¡±Hi James. Marlea. We¡¯ve met.¡± ¡±¡­I¡­ you¡­¡± James let out a long, long stream of air from his nose, pushing his hair off his face and pressing his palms into his eyes as he groaned. ¡°Sure, hi.¡± He settled on. ¡°I¡¯m really fucking interested in everything about that and also why you¡¯re keeping the original name and a bunch of other things.¡± ¡±Yeah, that¡¯s why I keep posting essays.¡± She told him. James nodded, resolving to check those out when he had free time after the delve. Ignoring Nile¡¯s increasingly red face and apoplectic attempts at being rude, he refocused on Arrush. ¡°You sleep okay?¡± He asked the ratroach. Arrush nodded, itching slightly at some of the lines between his chitin and the tan fur that had started getting a little rougher after a few days without a proper shower. ¡°I¡­¡± he stopped himself from lying. There was still, even now, an impulse to hide any fragment of weakness, even from the person second closest to him. ¡°No.¡± Arrush shook his head slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t like this place. It feels like it wants to hurt me.¡± ¡±I get that.¡± James looked off at the tops of the cubicles around them. It was so cluttered here, it was impossible to see more than a few hundred feet without line of sight being blocked, much less to the weird non-horizon. But it was still possible to get a good look at the repeating and iterated patterns of cubicles. ¡°I guess¡­ I dunno, I can understand that. Did you not feel that way in the Stacks?¡± His potential partner perked up. ¡°The Library is different!¡± Arrush seemed to leap to the defense of the dungeon that was weirdly one of the most eager to send things to kill them. ¡°It¡¯s quiet, and¡­ smooth?¡± ¡±It¡¯s kinda quiet¡­ here¡­ okay nevermind.¡± As soon as he said it, James could hear the omnipresent spinning motor of the distant air conditioning fans. He twitched as the ongoing argument between Marlea and Nile threatened to spill back over to him, before deciding to ignore it. ¡°Smooth, though?¡± ¡±The carpet here is hard.¡± Arrush said. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s faking? Not lying, I guess¡­ but it isn¡¯t real and it wants us to think it is. Everything here is like that. The Library wants us to think it¡¯s made of wood, so it makes things out of wood. It¡¯s different.¡± James tipped his head to the side and pursed his lips. ¡°I can see that, yeah.¡± He agreed. ¡°I might be a little too used to places like this.¡± ¡±It¡¯s your¡­ what is it to you?¡± Arrush suddenly asked as he realized he didn¡¯t really know how James thought of this place. ¡±The dungeon, or the idea of offices? Offices are just places I¡¯ve worked. They¡¯re¡­ eh. Horrible but familiar, and horrible in a really banal way. The dungeon though¡­¡± He paused and met Arrush¡¯s eyes with a small smile. ¡°Officium Mundi is full of dangerous things and terrible implications. It killed a lot of people, either directly or by creating the things that did the killing. It stole my best friend from me, and we¡¯re still working on repairing that damage.¡± He wanted to laugh, but held it in, especially when he saw the others at the table and a couple more people around them surreptitiously listening in. ¡°And because of how it plays with infomorphs and mental attacks, too, I don¡¯t even know the true extent of the pain this dungeon has caused me.¡± James added. ¡°But, you know what? It gave me real honest magic. And if I¡¯d never nearly died here, I wouldn¡¯t have met you. So I think I¡¯m okay with calling it even.¡± ¡°But you came back.¡± Arrush pointed out, struggling to keep his face from glowing green. ¡±Oh, yeah, because it has more magic.¡± James waved a hand easily. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to trade or something, which you¡¯d think an office would understand the concept of business. But since it seems to want to go the route of dangerous exploration and pitched battles, I¡¯m cool with that too.¡± On the other side of the table, Nile made a rude snort. ¡°All this bluster so you can play at building your little kingdom on Earth. You are just like we were, aren¡¯t you?¡± Before James could speak, Arrush kicked his own chair backward and rose to his full height, towering over the group. He didn¡¯t do it with an aura of intimidation, but Nile still shut up real fast as the ratroach nervously scratched at himself with his extra arms. ¡°You had fifty years and all you could do was make money.¡± He looked at James, the tension in his clenched jaw softening. ¡°And you never would have helped someone like me. You wouldn¡¯t even help someone like yourself.¡± He huffed out a breath, a few drops of corrosive saliva hissing on the center of the table as he steadied himself before he spoke to James. ¡°I am going to go wake up our boyfriends.¡± ¡±Have fun!¡± James injected artificial enthusiasm into his voice, trying to recover from the tense conversation. ¡°I¡¯m ready to go when Anesh is, so I¡¯ll go round up the others. You looking forward to adventure today?¡± ¡±I¡¯m looking forward to getting away from that.¡± A small claw pointed out of Arrush¡¯s back at Nile¡¯s face as the tall ratroach padded away through the camp. Nile tugged on the collar of his shirt and sat straight up. ¡±I-¡° ¡±You will shut up.¡± James spoke in a perfectly even voice, with no hint of animosity in it. Which made it legitimately terrifying to the ex-Alchemist as the words sunk in. ¡°I will put up with a lot of grief from you, sir, but there are hard lines for who you get to talk down to, and you have found one. Now you are welcome to stay here and learn what you can from this, because I do know that it¡¯s important to the work you want to do somehow,¡± James stood and brushed his shoulders off, casually adjusting his armor back into place, ¡°or you can teleport back to the Lair, and instead learn firsthand why we don¡¯t do that, and have plenty of time to process that lesson as you pack your belongings to leave. Am I clear?¡± Nile was a lot of things. Annoyed at being treated like a novice, angry at the wealth and status he¡¯d lost, furious at the casual way that people in the Order kept treating him, irate at the lack of luxury in his private apartment, and a few other variants of bitter and cynical besides. But he did, deep in his cold heart, pride himself on not being stupid. ¡±I believe I take your meaning.¡± He said, already going back to his reading and finishing his oatmeal. He didn¡¯t look at James, because he wanted to have the last word and making eye contact might come across as any kind of submissive. But when the younger man just turned and left without a word, it somehow didn¡¯t feel like a victory for his wounded pride. ¡±Wow, you fucked up.¡± Marlea told him bluntly, the girl watching him flounder with a haughty expression. ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve fucked up in my lifes, but dang. You¡¯d think being old as shit would make it easier for you to know how to avoid that kind of thing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not as if we knew about his kind.¡± ¡°Man, don¡¯t try to be droll at me. I¡¯ve got the time and extra brains to read everything, and I know you weren¡¯t even looking.¡± This fragment of Marlea paused briefly. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why you¡¯re falling behind Red. You¡¯re just not looking.¡± Deciding to put his true intellect to use, Nile chose to keep his mouth shut and pretend to continue his reading until Marlea got bored of needling him. _____ Perhaps sensing that they were planning to turn around soon, Officium Mundi put a strong front forward in terms of handing James and his team some excitement as a form of enticing them to stick around. Well, James thought so anyway. Though he figured the others might disagree. While he was busy trading melee strikes with a stuffed shirt, using his trusty hatchet to deflect a flurry of cardstock that kept rearranging itself into different swords and having his own probing attacks blocked in turn, the rest of his group were having problems. JP and Anesh were laying prone on the floor, trying to make their arms work to pull themselves upright, but seeming unable to find the energy, with Ganesh curled up against his favorite human and not bothering to try to move. Zhu was draped against his skin unmoving. Arrush had faltered the least, and was tanging with a screaming mask made of pink and yellow sticky notes, but he couldn¡¯t get his claws to close properly to rip it apart. Bea was the worst off; when the paper pusher had dropped that stupid stress ball to the floor and the emotional attack had rolled out of it, she¡¯d just dropped, like a puppet with her strings cut. She was the one James was most worried about, and why his excitement was pretty fucking tempered in the moment. The paper pusher twisted away from James¡¯ swinging axe with a rotation of the waist that would rip a human¡¯s spine into pieces. The move put it in the perfect position for a counterattack, but the bizarre mismatch of different types of intellect was on full display with this one. Instead of doing what James would have done if he were the one trying to kill him and stepping back to slide sideways and hit him while he was overextended, the paper pusher chose a different option. Specifically, it chose to give out a feral scream - the actual words about obeying human resources unimportant compared to the berserk intent - and lunge forward, its cardstock sword forming into a cleaver as it went for James¡¯ neck. He exhaled calmly, heat and oxygen leaving his blood in a rush as he did so. James didn¡¯t have the same power of timing that Alex did, but he did have a massive stockpile of Breath to mess with, even if it would be just as lethal to overspend. Still, while Mountain Of The Self took it out of him, it also let him take the hit without flinching or feeling it, sapping every erg of momentum from the incoming magical weapon and leaving his opponent way out of position, even if it could twist its paper body. James capitalized on the overextension by something that thought it was going to kill him, but instead had stopped at his neck. A hand with fingertips that felt way too sharp through the freezing cold pushed under the paper pusher¡¯s arm, while James threw himself forward with his other forearm pressed against its throat. Using his full body weight and taking advantage of it not being grounded, James carried it back several steps to slam it into the water cooler at the center of the little intersection of cubicle halls. Toppling it over, James let his feet leave the floor and dropped his full body weight onto the falling humanoid figure. From the squeezable stress ball sitting on the ground back behind him, something tried to worm into James¡¯ mind. A feeling of exhausted despair, the impulse to just give up, and maybe just stop fighting and let the paper pusher do whatever. He didn¡¯t listen, even as it continued getting louder and louder. Instead, grinding his teeth together, James hammered the edge of his hatchet into the supine form of his enemy¡¯s face. Each chop tearing open a hole in the fleshy thick paper, letting more of the dust and glitter inside spill out. By the time the thing died and orbs spilled out of it, James had reduced its head to little more than a mangled pile of debris. Rolling sideways, the voice in his head still intensifying, James took some hesitant steps backward, pausing to bisect the mask Arrush was pinning down, before he made it back to the small black foam form of the stress ball. He tore it in half, and got a blue orb for his trouble. ¡°Is everyone alright?¡± James instantly moved to help Anesh up as his boyfriend started pushing himself off the floor. ¡°Bea? You with us?¡± She wasn¡¯t. Not dead, but definitely unconscious. They made a makeshift defensive position until she woke up, and James took the time to check on everyone else, giving Zhu reassuring pets along his steadily realizing feathers as the navigator came to. ¡±What the fuck was that?¡± JP asked as he downed half a water bottle, sitting on the floor and slumped against a filing cabinet that had too many drawers. ¡±It felt sick. I still feel sick.¡± Arrush had a pair of hands clutching at the armor over his stomach. ¡°Are¡­ are you safe?¡± He asked James. James gave a small hum as he looked up from watching Anesh check to make sure Ganesh hadn¡¯t been crushed. ¡°Hm? Oh. I¡¯m good, yeah.¡± He said. ¡±Yeah, why is that?¡± JP questioned. ¡±Antidepressants probably?¡± James shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re doing a fucking great job, actually. But that¡¯s probably why it didn¡¯t hit me as hard as everyone else. I¡¯m guessing for sleeping beauty here,¡± he motioned at Bea, laying on the floor with JP¡¯s backpack as a pillow, ¡°being an inhabitor, she just wasn¡¯t ready for it.¡± JP glared at him, tipping the water bottle he was holding at James like it was a weapon. ¡°For what. You¡¯re being cryptic and I hate your wizard bullshit.¡± ¡±Oh! Sorry! Depressed.¡± James clarified, giving JP a sad and lopsided smile as he looked down at his friend. ¡°Uh¡­ congratulations, that¡¯s what it feels like to be depressed. Now you know!¡± Zhu fluttered against James¡¯ armor. ¡±It¡¯s worse this way!¡± The navigator declared. ¡°Normally it¡¯s like terrain in your mind. Not my mind! That¡¯s cheating!¡± ¡±That¡¯s magic!¡± James clapped his hands together and then arced them over his head. ¡°Anyway I broke the wretched depression vortex sphere, so we¡¯re fine.¡± Anesh let out an unexpected laugh. ¡°I love you.¡± He said simply, still trying to get his hands to stop shaking, as his little drone friend placed wings like scythes across his fingers. ¡°Thank you for breaking the sad ball.¡± ¡±That¡¯s not what I called it!¡± James wanted some credit for his naming style. The group took the time while they waited for Bea to come around to strip the cubicle of anything that was either money, food, or magic. James didn¡¯t participate so much as he kept watch, given that the wandering monsters in this part of the dungeon seemed to be an excessively higher threat than he was used to, and also to quietly offer reassurances to everyone else. ¡±I felt like I couldn¡¯t move.¡± Zhu¡¯s whispering voice confided in him when they were standing out in the hallway, checking the corners for anything approaching. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡±It¡¯s all cool,¡± James told his friend, ¡°Arrush helped me out, and we handled it.¡± He shrugged. As far as he was concerned, they¡¯d made it through the attack alive, and that was what mattered. Also the paper pusher had dropped a yellow orb the size of a bowling ball, and James was excited to know what that gave. Too big to copy, sadly, but he was still excited to see what mishmash of high skill ranks it handed out. ¡±No.¡± Zhu¡¯s arm curled around underneath James¡¯ own, his talons wrapping around James¡¯ hand while his tail curled around a leg. The navigator pulled in close against his host, like a blanket of ethereal orange. ¡°No. I am sorry for not understanding.¡± He said. ¡°I live in you. And I didn¡¯t know. Not really. Not like this.¡± Zhu shuddered against James, tail threatening to unbalance them both as James tried to keep walking. ¡°I knew what it felt like, but I¡¯d never felt it like that.¡± ¡±Well yeah.¡± James snorted. ¡°Because I¡¯m on antidepressants and going to therapy. Zhu, I love you, and I appreciate the empathy, but the whole fucking point is that I don¡¯t want you to know what it feels like to be depressed. I don¡¯t want to know! Just because I have experience functioning under those conditions¡­ it¡¯s not a perk. It¡¯s not a superpower. It¡¯s just bad luck.¡± James peeked around a corner, doing a little scouting before the others were ready to move, and jerked back as a potted plant tried to take his eye out. It was in a hanging pot, dangling from an arch of cubicle walling that looked like artificial stonework made out of the thin material. ¡°Not that way then.¡± He mused. That thing was way too high up to fight effectively. ¡±Well I¡¯m going to feel bad.¡± Zhu huffed. ¡°And you can¡¯t stop me.¡± ¡±It¡¯s true, I can¡¯t. But since you¡¯re physically linked to me, I can keep bringing you to therapy!¡± ¡±¡­you¡¯re a good person.¡± Zhu grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s very annoying.¡± ¡±I hear that a lot. Let¡¯s go make sure Bea¡¯s okay, and then go see what our next problem is.¡± _____ A hundred rows of cubicles, a towering stack of smushed offices, and navigating a break room that had far too many ledges holding explosive coffee cups later, and their team found some time to rest and evaluate what they¡¯d gathered. The Office had been a lot more active as they¡¯d progressed, with near constant pressure from green orb life mixed with a higher density of difficult terrain and traps. But they weren¡¯t just surviving it; this was where James belonged, and he felt like he was thriving. Mostly. ¡±Dammit.¡± James dropped a soaked paper bag on the floor of the receptionist¡¯s office they¡¯d occupied. ¡°This one¡¯s ruined.¡± ¡±All of it?¡± Anesh asked, taking the coffee from his boyfriend and popping the top open. ¡°Half of this is still fine. Do we have a plastic bag around here?¡± He took the object that Bea offered without hesitation. ¡°Perfect.¡± Anesh pinched the middle of the container of coffee grounds, cutting off the part that had been soaked when an explosive Starbucks cup had gone off near James, and pouring the dry grounds into their new home. ¡°Arrush, are you doing okay?¡± The ratroach was sitting against a wall of glass bricks that separated the endless cubicle landscape from this little side office, and was trying to get his fur to dry. The heat from the close call had fortunately not hurt him; they¡¯d been far enough away. But he¡¯d still gotten a good splatter of old coffee that had dripped into his armor¡¯s chestplate. ¡±I smell like¡­ like chocolate. But on fire. And bad. Why do you drink this?¡± He half-snarled as he dabbed at where fur and chitin met with a wet towel. ¡°You spoiled me! I live in a place that smells nice all the time, and now¡­¡± Arrush cut off, wheezing repeatedly as he tried to catch his breath. ¡°I like the smell of coffee.¡± JP commented, looking at Arrush with concern. ¡±D-don¡¯t sniff me.¡± Arrush coughed out. ¡±That wasn¡¯t where I was going with that, but okay.¡± JP nodded. ¡°So, anyone get anything good from the swarm orbs? I¡¯ve got a rank in making chairs now.¡± Bea looked back from where she was examining the heavy clock set on the wall above the semicircle of the receptionist¡¯s desk, four hands pointing to unnumbered and uneven marks doing nothing to clarify what time it was. ¡°I have acquired ranks in plumbing, laser etching, amputation, and one in love.¡± She gave the barest hint of a pause. ¡°I do not feel different. Am I supposed to?¡± ¡±No, you¡¯ll need to find someone to love first.¡± JP shook his head sympathetically. ¡°Good luck! If you figure out how, let me know!¡± ¡±Very well.¡± Bea¡¯s monotone sounded like her cutting off her participation as she went back to sketching a picture of the clock. James caught JP¡¯s eye and gave his friend an exasperated look, but JP just gave him a thumbs up in reply along with a satisfied grin. Pretty sure that his friend was just trying to challenge himself, James shook his head and sighed as he swept his gaze around the room again. They could leave out the glass double door they¡¯d come in, but there were also a handful of office doors with frosted glass surrounding them. ¡°The last time I saw a place like this,¡± James told the others, ¡°it was during the thing. But we never got a chance to check out these doors. Does anyone wanna take a look?¡± ¡±Sure. I just need a new blue first.¡± Anesh said, grabbing one from their pack to try to absorb. In another case of them having too many to reasonably duplicate, it was more or less fair game to make use of orbs they found past a certain point, and Anesh didn¡¯t take long focusing to absorb a few uses of a new spell. ¡°Huh. Repair System. That¡¯s¡­¡± ¡±Worryingly vague?¡± JP filled in. ¡°Yeah.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Anyone else need one?¡± Unfurling from around his partner¡¯s arm, Zhu spoke up. ¡°Can I try? I know in theory that my kind can use those, but I¡¯ve never actually done it.¡± ¡±Go for it.¡± James took the orb from his boyfriend and tossed it up for Zhu to snatch out of the air. He and Anesh started trying to help, providing commentary and suggestions as the navigator narrowed his singular eye into a slit and held the blue orb between the tips of his talons. But despite a significant amount of glaring, and a mental pressure that James could actually feel as almost physical inside his ribs, Zhu didn¡¯t manage to absorb the orb. Their advice, James was forced to admit, might not be helping. Of course, their advice was overshadowed by Bea snagging the orb out of Zhu¡¯s grip like a casual viper strike, placing it on the back of the nearest waiting room couch, pointing, and saying ¡°Pick this up. But don¡¯t touch it.¡± ¡±That¡¯s stupid.¡± Zhu said reflexively. And then tried to do it, and got it first time. ¡°That¡¯s still stupid!¡± He declared as the orb phased into his hand, and then¡­ sat there. A softly glowing blue sphere, hovering inside his manifested body. ¡°Also I have three uses of ¡®rearrange calendar¡¯. These are so strange. I want to go back to the Climb spells. They make sense to me.¡± JP bit his lip as he pointed over toward the navigator¡¯s new situation. ¡±Uh¡­¡± He started scratching at his own armored wrist as he watched Zhu¡¯s arm move with the orb inside it. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not what they do with us, is it?¡± He asked. ¡°Because I don¡¯t think it¡¯s healthy to have random balls inside of me.¡± ¡±Pause for laughter.¡± James deflected with humor. ¡°But actually, good question. We¡¯ll look into it. And maybe get some X-rays. Yikes. Also what a weird power. Can you swap things around so that Monday and Tuesday trade places?¡± ¡±¡­I think so. And then I¡¯d die.¡± Zhu said. ¡°Why do I know that? What is with these things? I regret this. Let¡¯s go look at offices.¡± ¡±I think the Office is kinda like a more hands on GM than a lot of other dungeons. Perfectly willing to yes-and on some of the more complicated or vague magic. Except the ¡®and¡¯ is always ¡®and then you die¡¯.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Anyway! Before we - Bea don¡¯t touch that - before we touch any of the doors, the last one of these had a time trap in it. So let¡¯s plan ahead for that really quick?¡± The plan ended up being pretty simple. The traps were a huge problem if they didn¡¯t prepare and have the tools, and James was pretty sure they¡¯d be instantly lethal to a solo delver unless they ran out of power eventually. Being locked in an endless time loop until the sun exploded, or maybe just until a camraconda found and ate you. With a sledgehammer that didn¡¯t care about physics, and a quick numbering system of the drywall around the door, they were a lot more manageable. Basically a free orange orb. The first two offices were just¡­ offices. Small, maybe, with frosted glass windows and metal blinds that looked out on what seemed to be a fuzzy impression of a parking lot. Desks covered in documents, laptops, phones, paperweights, ashtrays, framed photos of¡­ ducks? Just a lot of clutter. The bookshelves flanking the desks in both of them made each personal office feel even more claustrophobic, and it was absolutely no surprise to either Arrush or James when one of the books split into a fanged mouth and tried to eat them. He wondered if the dungeons shared notes. Because this looked a lot like a Ceaseless Stacks book, and that dungeon did the same thing with orbs too. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The group stripped the spaces of anything that looked, felt, or acted magical, and kept going. On the third door, James had only just grabbed the handle when he heard Anesh¡¯s voice calmly calling out ¡°Four, and kinda high!¡± Sighing to himself as he moved, James and Zhu collectively whipped the sledgehammer around to the spot near the floor that was designated with that number. Kneeling down, it only took a couple seconds for James to grab and rip out an orb from an orange totem, popping him out of the time loop. ¡°Wow, good aim that time.¡± ¡±Zhu helped.¡± James admitted. ¡±I don¡¯t think those work on me.¡± Zhu added. ¡°Not exactly.¡± They kept going, and that office yielded an address book that translated everything to Esperanto, a box of paperclips that didn¡¯t seem to run out of paperclips even when turned over and allowed to fountain like a waterfall of metal, and a pair of glasses that could see radio. The fourth door led to a conference room suspended in a black void. They¡¯d closed that one and decided not to risk it. The office in the fifth door tried to kill them. As soon as the door was open, it had lunged out. The whole office. Or at least, that¡¯s what it felt like. The walls around the door had stretched and warped so that the doorway could disgorge its internals. Desk chairs turned into claws, the rolling wheels on the ends spinning wildly and at speeds that squealed as they made contact with the walls or the squad¡¯s armor. They pulled the room outward, its ¡®face¡¯ made up of a desk piled high with papers and folders, a wall clock and a lamp sitting high up as its eyes, while the space underneath the desk sported every piece of metal in the room as blunted crushing teeth. No one had hesitated this time to make use of their guns. The sound might attract attention, but at least they wouldn¡¯t be flattened by an entire room coming at them. Bullets tore holes in paper, shattered electronics, and left holes bleeding molten ichor. The world turned frigid as James interposed himself between his friends and every lashing claw that was thrown at them, draining Breath to power his defensive magic, and then borrowing it back from Arrush through their link without the ratroach having to suffer the backlash all while James struggled to down an oxygenation potion. Bea abandoned subtly altogether, throwing herself up onto the part of the creature that was towering over them, pushing her body far past what a human could do as she ripped handfuls of document flesh away. JP and Anesh bolted to the sides of the room, taking cover behind couches and lining up shots that didn¡¯t put the others in harm¡¯s way as they made use of the rifles that had gone untouched for most of the delve. And launching himself off Anesh¡¯s shoulder, Ganesh clung to the ceiling in the far corner, using his stolen weapon systems to set portions of the paper to burning. The abrupt violence caught the aggressive giant beast off guard. It had probably expected to grab one of them, pull them back inside, and slam the door to eat the unlucky target. Instead, it was shot, stabbed, lasered, and hammered by everyone¡¯s one or two stored casts of pave as they unleashed everything they could think of as fast as possible, not trying for subtly or targeting weak spots, assuming it even had them. Screaming in a distressingly human voice, the mass of furniture, paper, and drywall grabbed Bea off its back and flung her down at James, who caught the inhabitor without stopping the impact and tumbled backward. Still howling, the living office tried pushing itself backward, losing the end of an arm to Arrush cleaving through it with the weightless hammer that he¡¯d taken from James. But it did successfully escape, clawing its way out of the unexpected onslaught, the door starting to peel closed on damaged muscles. Which was when Ganesh buzzed by, dropping a flaring thermite grenade through the crack, just as the door slammed shut. The screaming continued as everyone caught their breath and tired to get their heart rates to return to normal. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± JP demanded. ¡±An office?¡± Arrush asked. He was panting, but not nearly as heavily as when he had to overexert himself talking too much. All of his eyes flicking in different directions as he whipped his head around to scan the room, and the space outside. James was also on edge, making sure they hadn¡¯t just attracted a swarm of striders or something. ¡°Offices don¡¯t do that.¡± He told Arrush as the hostile room kept screaming and howling from the other side of its door, black smoke starting to leak out of the cracks. Anesh double checked the safety on his rifle before clearing his throat and starting to raise a hand. ¡°Okay shut up, I just heard what I said.¡± James conceded. ¡°Usually that¡¯s not what¡­ look I don¡¯t know.¡± He rolled his eyes as the noise of their attacker trailed away before cutting off. ¡°Anyone want to... check that?¡± No one did, so James took the lead, cracking the door open and letting out a wall of smoke and the ash of the pile of documents that had formed a body. Nothing moved inside, most of it wasn¡¯t even damaged by the thermite. There were just scorch marks all over what was left, and hot ichor dripping from every hold they¡¯d made. A small wave of orbs poured out over James¡¯ feet, too. The space was carpeted in them, enough that they pushed each other across the floor. It was one more thing to be on the lookout for, but after they bagged up all the yellow and green orbs, James could safely say it was a lucrative target. Even if the fight did leave him shivering and his fingers and toes so close to numb that every movement hurt. Also he got a skill rank in cooking fish, which was the coolest thing he¡¯d picked up in a while. _____ [+4 Skill Ranks : Etiquette - Smoker - North American] [+1 Emotional Resonance : Exhaustion] [Shell Upgraded : +2 Comfortable Run Speed - MPH] ¡±Gross.¡± James looked at the glittering dust that was all that remained of the larger mostly yellow orb he¡¯d cracked. Leaning against him as they took their short rest, Anesh didn¡¯t look up from the iLipede he was keeping an eye on. They weren¡¯t friends, Anesh still didn¡¯t like bugs, and the iLipede seemed to feel the same way about his humanity, but they¡¯d reached a d¨¦tente and were working toward mutual cooperation. ¡°Arrush got a purple effect that makes him smell meat better, so you¡¯d better be prepared to defend your ¡®gross¡¯ judgment against that.¡± ¡±First off, meat doesn¡¯t smell bad most of the time.¡± James opened with. Zhu stopped him from getting to his second point. ¡°The purple orbs consistently give ratroaches things that are just barely on this side of the line of grossness, so you know it¡¯s going to work too well on garbage or roadkill.¡± ¡±Is garbage¡­ supposed to smell bad?¡± Arrush undermined everyone¡¯s point without even trying as he helped JP pull stuff out of the low cupboard of the break room they¡¯d taken through grit and force of arms. James, Zhu, and Anesh all had a mutual moment of regret that they¡¯d diverted down that path. James decided to try to salvage it and talk about Arrush¡¯s olfactory senses later. ¡°Second¡­ no, it¡¯s just skill ranks related to smoking. And I think smoking is gross.¡± ¡±I¡­ would have expected differently from someone who lives around Portland.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡±What?¡± ¡±What?¡± Anesh mostly wasn¡¯t paying attention, instead nudging a small yellow orb toward the iLipede that was considering taking the gift. ¡°Sorry, I know I live here, but this is really more your department than mine. Isn¡¯t weed legal here?¡± ¡±No, not¡­¡± James frowned, and actually thought about what he¡¯d had buried into his mind. The denizens of the Order used the phrase ¡®meditate on your orbs¡¯ as something of a joke, but James did actually have some mental tricks to figuring out exactly what the parameters of a new skill were. He had actual experience with actual meditation now, and it helped for situations like this. ¡°Huh. Okay, that¡¯s¡­ yeah, I just kind of assumed it was cigarettes or something. It is, but it also includes proper manners for sharing a bong. Fascinating.¡± He pursed his lips and tilted his head against his boyfriend. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ technically better. I still don¡¯t smoke though. Anyway, what are you up to?¡± Anesh poked at the screen of the iLipede as it finally settled in to munch on the orb, and let Anesh look through the singular app it had loaded. It was one of the confusing ones. They ran into these sometimes, where the output was just context-free strings of data. In this case, he¡¯d been prompted to choose a time frame - day, week, month, year, and he¡¯d picked day to start - and then the little crawling insectile phone had stilled briefly before providing a timestamp and a number. ¡±I have¡­ no idea.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Four, though. Four of something, at a little after 9 AM¡­ probably tomorrow? My watch doesn¡¯t know what day it is because¡­¡± He waved his free hand around at the dungeon, getting an irate buzz from Ganesh who was trying to either nap, or observe the iLipede, from his perch on Anesh¡¯s arm. ¡±Plenty of time to learn.¡± Zhu said calmly as he helped James latch onto the edge of the counter, pushing their dual form up with his tail. ¡±What?¡± Anesh felt like he was saying that a lot. James smirked as he and Zhu pointed in unison to where the iLipede was stealthily crawling its way onto Anesh¡¯s boot, and settling in like it owned the footwear. ¡°Look, you made a friend!¡± ¡±What! No! I hate you, please leave.¡± Anesh tensed up, tipping his foot forward to dislodge his passenger. ¡°Get off. Get off. Someone please move this, I really do not like these things.¡± He kept his voice steady, but the insistent tone made it clear he wasn¡¯t kidding. Arrush came to his rescue almost instantly, gently lifting the iLipede and settling it on one of the pouches at his side. The phone bug didn¡¯t at all protest, and seemed quite content with one of Arrush¡¯s smaller limbs twisting around to lay a comforting chitin covered hand on its back. ¡±Thank you.¡± Anesh sighed out in relief. ¡±I don¡¯t actually get how you¡¯re bothered by bugs, but I had to pry you out of sleeping wrapped around Keeka.¡± James commented as he worked through some warmup stretches before the group continued. From across the room, there was an almost reflexive yell of ¡°Cute!¡± from JP. A sentiment James shared, but he was pretty sure their friend was just using it as a way to tease Anesh. A method that worked really well, and also hit Arrush as embarrassment collateral. ¡±It¡¯s different.¡± Anesh explained as James helped him up and the group went through the routine of double checking everything they had. ¡°Keeka is large enough I can make out what he¡¯s doing. This thing might be the nicest telephonic millipede in the world, but I¡¯m always going to be suspicious of it.¡± James felt like that might be a little unfair. But they were on the clock for today, and they had one last thing they were going to try to do before turning around, so he just smiled and shook his head and saved the debate about size discrimination for later. _____ ¡°I am pretty sure I can¡¯t stop that all the way, when this goes wrong and you die or something.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight told James in a way that made him think that she was still prepared to give it a good try anyway. He was surprised to find that he found the sentiment touching; not like he didn¡¯t get along with Sunny, just that he didn¡¯t really think of her as someone who had his back personally like he did with some of the other camracondas. ¡°Hey, if you die, who inherits your girlfriend?¡± She asked as a followup, shattering James¡¯ moment. ¡±There¡¯s no way that¡¯s how that works.¡± Ben muttered from where he was laying nearby and scoping out their target. ¡±None of my relationships worked that way.¡± ¡±¡­Ben. No, Sunny¡­¡± James wasn¡¯t sure who to sigh at. Daniel helped him cover half of the conversation. ¡°Ben you dated one person and it was by accident for two hours.¡± ¡±Badly.¡± Pathfinder¡¯s whisper added. ¡±Yes, thank you love, dated them badly.¡± It was honestly a treat to James to see Daniel so comfortably positioned in the dungeon that had almost killed him. His transformation from being voted most likely to get someone killed into a senior delver working on making sure he had a clear line of sight for his rifle to their target ahead was not exactly a complete change of his personality, but it was still quite noticeable. Before Ben could apologize, James rolled to face the camraconda with them. ¡°You know you don¡¯t need to wait for me to die to ask Alanna out, right?¡± ¡±Oh! I wasn¡¯t thinking about for me!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight helpfully failed to clarify anything about that sentence. ¡°So, do you still want to do this?¡± He did. The four of them weren¡¯t the only ones here. The cubicles here, and the floor they were walking on, was actually what James figured was the upper layer out of three. Below them was another whole level; not like the cubicle towers though. It wasn¡¯t any more crammed together or smashed than the Office just made things sometimes. But it didn¡¯t go too deep underground. Instead, hallways and cubicles and sometimes meeting spaces or break rooms, all spilled out under the overhanging cubicles overhead, forming a kind of geometric hill. And then there was another layer below that. Protruding out the same way, before it carried on just like the normal dungeon landscape. Except from their vantage point a little over ten feet overhead and perched on the ledge, the expedition delvers could look out and see how in maybe a quarter of a mile, the angles of the first and second layers came together again before smoothing out. What this left them with was a cenote in the cubicles. Like a tiered cake carved out and lifted away, leaving behind a basin. And what a basin it was. Formations James had never seen in the Office were down there, including what looked like an angled trench that wove back and forth at right angles and carried a thick flow of black ink in a stream, a pattern of cubicles that was tilted slightly to leave open slivers of space that made it look like a beige crystal, a pair of skeletal decision trees that looked like they were struggling against each other for resources, and, of course, their target. In the shadow of the lowest layer, close to one of the hillsides but with no part of itself covered, was a free standing room. It actually took advantage of the open space overhead where the cubicles and floor had been peeled back to get a little extra height. The walls of it were thick glass held together with metal supports, a pair of doors with space between them like an airlock with a heavy duty ventilation system on its ceiling. It had been a long time since James had seen a server room in an Office. The only one at the Lair was in its own self contained underground room, kept at peak functionality thanks to over a dozen different green orbs, and ¡®server room¡¯ was selling short the cobbled together hardware that ran different copies of their immunity programs. James wished they had one for immunity to dragon, right about now. It would probably be something that would only run on a buggy version of Windows Vista and take a building¡¯s worth of electricity to get the processor time for, but he¡¯d take it. Because down there in the server room was what the Order called a terrorbyte, and the more James looked at it, the more he felt like it was really living up to the name. Curled up on a hoard of thousands of orbs, a forty foot long serpentine body composed of electronic hardware sat, an exoskeleton of server racks like a patchwork protective shell. Symmetrical LEDs burned along its form, reds and greens and blues all capped off by the mostly circular light on its face in the shape of a power symbol that was currently dull as it napped. That face was a three foot long angled maw that had fangs of sharpened metal crackling audibly with electricity every time the creature breathed out a snore. Wings that shouldn¡¯t possibly support flight formed out of more metal struts and dangling cables, hundreds of cords draped across its body like a blanket, though they¡¯d tense up and form the ¡®skin¡¯ of the wings if the terrorbyte raised them up. No one had ever fought one. No one in the Order anyway. They¡¯d snuck by or run the two times the dragons had been encountered. But this time, with all these people, and time to prepare, and the high ground, there was an opportunity to do something that James had been curious about from the very first time he¡¯d seen one. ¡°How¡¯re the others doing?¡± James asked, rather than giving an answer to the question he felt was self evident. They weren¡¯t using radio, just in case the terrorbyte could hear it. So Daniel held a hand up to the side of his head and got a perplexed look from James and Zhu as Pathfinder¡¯s lightly feathered hand shifted into a ghostly orange lens that he used to scope out points around the edge of the basin. ¡°Camille looks ready. JP and Bea are set up. I don¡¯t see¡­ oh, there¡¯s Ty. Yeah, they¡¯re set.¡± ¡±Alright.¡± James stood up, keeping part of the desk between him and the open air as he stretched. ¡°You know what to do if this goes wrong!¡± He said as he edged up to the lip of the floor, and lowered himself down to sit on the last bit of stable ground before dropping one layer down. Arrush and Anesh were waiting for him, and while Anesh tried to give James one last out to maybe abandon this plan, Arrush just fell in with him as James grinned and led them over the next edge. His heart was starting to pick up, that tension of being about to do something stupid or unpleasant but not quite there yet familiar to him; but this version was a lot less grimly wretched than the stuff he¡¯d gotten used to it on during high school. ¡°The plan is fine!¡± Zhu shot down Anesh¡¯s continual attempts to tell them all that the plan wasn¡¯t fine. ¡°Stop trying to make James doubt everything, it¡¯s very uncomfortable.¡± ¡±Does that actually do something to infomorphs?¡± Anesh asked, abandoning his complaints for curiosity as James held up his arms from the lowest layer to catch him as he slid over the ledge. He dropped the last couple feet, his boyfriend cushioning and stabilizing him as his boots hit the lowest floor. ¡±No, but it¡¯s a good distraction for you.¡± Arrush just dropped and bowed his whole form as he landed, five different limbs flexing as he absorbed his impact, with one secondary arm steadying him on a heavy wooden conference table that stretched back underneath where they¡¯d all just been standing. He landed with a hollow thunk that betrayed how light his tall form was before rising up to his feet next to Anesh. ¡°I like this plan.¡± He offered. ¡°It feels¡­ nice.¡± It did feel nice. They¡¯d spent a lot of the last few days fighting; sometimes tumblefeeds or camracondas or other green life, but also sometimes just aggressive packs of staplers or alligator clips or other more free life that still wanted a bite of them. It wasn¡¯t the only way to sole problems, as the growing flock of dungeon life following along with their expedition proved, but there was a lot of combat. So, as angular cubicles passed, some of them filled with watching eyes and waiting traps, it felt nice to be going toward an active attempt at conversation. Maybe it was a stupid idea. There was every chance that the terrorbytes were green life themselves; they certainly had the sheer imposing power for it. But James wanted to give this one the same chance they¡¯d given literally everything else in this place that hadn¡¯t actively ambushed them. And some things that had. Counterbalancing how dumb the idea might be, they had multiple groups posted around the edges of the basin, the effective elevation giving them clear lines of sight to offer covering fire and magical support should things go wrong. Because James was feeling kind, and not naive today. The four of them, with Ganesh high overhead, made their way to the gap of space around the server room and dragon¡¯s lair without incident. The gnawing feeling of excited fear building in James¡¯ gut as they stood just a few feet away from a space that contained a creature bigger than all of them put together. ¡°How does it even get out?¡± James whispered. ¡±Over the top.¡± Zhu and Arrush answered him at the same time. The navigator made a conciliatory motion, and let Arrush explain. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ an illusion. There isn¡¯t glass there. It crawls out.¡± Zhu bobbed his eye in agreement. ¡±Or flies.¡± ¡±Or flies. Okay.¡± James nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s go ask.¡± The ring of tempered glass on the terrorbyte¡¯s face began to fill with a pale green glow as James approached the wall of the server room. It took more steps than he was hoping, each one of them driving home just how huge this thing was compared to him. Though it did also highlight just large its hoard was, too. Thousands of orbs. Tens of thousands. Enough to start another Order if they wanted to. James rapped his gloved knuckles on the window. Sharply enough to be heard, soft enough to be polite. ¡°Excuse me!¡± He called by way of a wake up. ¡°We¡¯d like to talk, if you¡¯re up for it?¡± The terrorbyte¡¯s glowing central eye came fully online as it roused itself, its neck of heavy mechanical hinges lifting slightly to lean forward and look at James through the glass. The reaction so far was placid, which gave James hope that it would at the very least be curious and not instantly aggressive, even if it couldn¡¯t actually talk. Then it surprised all of them by actually talking. Though what it said was a little unexpected itself. ¡°Two plus seven.¡± The voice came not from its mouth, which was still sealed, but instead all across its body. Like it was made of speakers. ¡±Uh¡­ nine?¡± James answered on reflex. ¡±Nine, correct. Did you have to think about that?¡± Zhu asked with a feathered nod. Their banter was cut off by the dragon¡¯s voice. ¡°Four cubed minus six.¡± ¡±¡­fifty eight?¡± James had stepped back from the glass as the terrorbyte¡¯s questing face pushed forward toward it. ¡°I did have to think about that one, if you were-¡° Then it spoke again, and James completely lost track as the math question ramped up in complexity rapidly, going from simple arithmetic to using algebra notation that he didn¡¯t actually know how to solve for when it was spoken out loud. He floundered for a half second, being stared at by the focused face of the massive metal wyrm, until Anesh spoke up, providing an answer that sounded far simpler than what had been asked. The terrorbyte shifted focus to Anesh, disregarding James and Arrush completely as its questions became more and more complex, and also came faster and faster. The two of them speaking in vastly different voices, but sharing the common trait of being increasingly incomprehensible to James. Then the terrorbyte asked something that took a full three minutes just to express verbally, and James tensed in anticipation as his boyfriend paused, looking like he had to struggle through the process for the first time. As the seconds ticked by, he was getting the feeling the terrorbyte was radiating a smug vindictiveness. Through his skulljack, James got a connectivity request from Anesh, along with a simple question. ¡°Can I borrow your brain for a second?¡± James agreed instantly, letting the two of them subsume each other into a shared mind. The collective person was far, far better at math than James would probably ever be without skill ranks, but his physical brain was still a useful addition to the process of problem solving and memory, even if it became instantly clear that Anesh on his own had been cheating using his own skulljack braid to offload a lot of the simpler math. The problem that had been posed though was one that was resistant to just being plugged into a calculator, and so he¡¯d tapped James¡¯ for help finishing up the answer. When he had the answer, the combined person broke off the connection, leaving Anesh to finish speaking the final formula, and James with the vague impression like he¡¯d just done six hours of accounting homework back in college and his brain hurt, but no memory of what the process had been like. He wasn¡¯t unprepared for the feeling, it was just odd. Anesh finished answering, and the terrorbyte¡¯s power symbol eye flashed a brief irate red before the dragon pulled away from the wall, shaking its long neck back and forth seeming in frustration. ¡°So¡­ do we pass the test?¡± Anesh asked, trading a look with James as they watched the massive creature put on a show of annoyance. The terrorbyte sighed, cooling fans making the exhalation both loud and dramatic. Then it spoke the first word that wasn¡¯t a math puzzle, staring at Anesh through the glass. ¡°Acceptable.¡± It uttered, before adding in a tone that only came from higher up its neck and maybe wasn¡¯t intended to be heard, ¡°Bah. And so no lunch today.¡± ¡±So, would you be open to¡­¡± James started to say before the dragon cracked its maw and dipped its head like a scoop into the mass hoard of orbs, and then lunged for the wall of its den. The claws on its front legs caught on the top of the wall, glass squealing but holding steady as the dragon pulled itself up. James forced himself to stay steady, though Arrush took several steps back as the creature reared its head far over them, staring down at Anesh in particular. Then the terrorbyte cut James off entirely by spitting its mouthful of orbs directly at Anesh, many of them still dripping in coolant. Some of them impacted so hard they broke on contact, granting boons from across the colors the dungeon offered, while the rest just splattered to the floor. A not insignificant portion sprayed against the others too, and James found himself picking up a few new magics himself as the terrorbyte finished its reward based assault. ¡°No.¡± It boomed. ¡°Now leave.¡± James processed that at the same time that he was trying to sort through a half dozen orbs popping against his face. [Problem Solved : Meeting rescheduled] [+1 Skill Rank : Government - Swedish] [Certification Added : AMOPP - Therapist] [+1 Emotional Resonance : Grief] [Shell Upgraded : -22 oz Blood Loss - Internal Bleeding / Year] [+2 Skill Ranks : Agriculture - Machinery Operation - Combine Harvester] [+1 Skill Rank : Communication - Dog] [Shell Upgraded : +2 Meter Vision Range] ¡°¡­How often does this dungeon give skill ranks in horses?¡± Zhu asked while his host was busy sputtering as some of the dragon¡¯s coolant saliva got into his mouth. ¡±Wait!¡± James called, ignoring that to take one last try at talking to the terrorbyte before it pulled back. ¡°That¡¯s great and all, but we really just wanted to talk! We¡¯ll leave if you want-¡° ¡±Good.¡± The dragon¡¯s voice boomed. ¡±¡­but is there anything you want if we come back this way again?¡± ¡±Lunch.¡± The terrorbyte¡¯s claws pulled it¡¯s head farther over the wall to peer down at James from ten feet overhead. ¡°Are you volunteering?¡± It¡¯s echoing digital speech held a playful cruelty to it. Which was, perhaps, exactly the kind of thing James thrived on in conversations. Because it prompted him to just roll his eyes. ¡°I was thinking I could bring you a steak or a laserdisc player or something, but if you¡¯re good being a snarky asshole, we can always just come back and take more of your stockpile later.¡± James snarked as Anesh and Arrush tried to pull him back with them, the two of them having finished scooping up the majority of the sprayed orbs that hadn¡¯t been cracked on contact. The terrorbyte growled, a sound of overclocked fans and a rumbling mechanical vibration. ¡°I am required to give you one minute to begin to flee.¡± It said simply. ¡±Yeah, sure.¡± James sighed as he turned, waving over his shoulder as he led the others away. ¡°Nice meeting you. See you around.¡± He said. It wasn¡¯t until they were ten cubicles deep, with Arrush and Anesh hustling to fall in around James, that his boyfriend spoke up. ¡°What in the hell were you thinking?¡± Anesh demanded. ¡±I was thinking that I wanted to see if it was actually not allowed to attack us.¡± James said. ¡°And also to see if it was being an asshole on purpose. I think it was, but I also don¡¯t think it¡¯s defensive. If it wanted to fight while at a massive disadvantage, it would have anyway, so I figured I¡¯d test something.¡± He winced to himself as he felt the adrenaline starting to wear off. ¡°Sorry. I should have messaged you. Oh, I don¡¯t know if you noticed, but it saw everyone.¡± ¡±What?¡± Arrush nodded, sending thin drips of glowing blue down to the Office¡¯s carpet. ¡°The small eyes on its side. Like¡­ like butterfly patterns. But in reverse. It¡¯s pretending they aren¡¯t eyes, but when it moved, they focused on our friends up above.¡± He clenched one of his claws, the joints popping as he applied pressure. ¡°It knew the whole time. What were the numbers?¡± ¡±Hm? Oh. Calculus, mostly.¡± Anesh said. ¡°No message hidden in them, just¡­ I wonder if it¡¯s like a sphinx.¡± ¡±Ah, answer the riddle or get eaten?¡± James nodded. ¡°But you did, and it gave up a bunch of orbs, which I think also tracks. Seemed unhappy about it, too. Which makes me really want to come back and bother it more.¡± ¡±I¡¯m in favor of antagonizing jerks, but that seems stupid, even for you.¡± Zhu chimed in. Arrush almost ran into an inanimate potted plant as he stared at James while they walked. ¡°Why¡­ why did¡­ how did sphinx evolve to do that?¡± He asked. ¡°Where do they get the treasures?¡± ¡±What?¡± James asked reflexively before realizing what was being asked. ¡°Oh! No, no! They¡¯re mythological, not real! Holy shit, I need to get you a book on fictional creatures. We should hang out sometime and¡­¡± A thought struck him as they reached the far wall, and James spotted Frequency lurking overhead as he helped Anesh up to clamber onto the next layer of exposed cubicle. ¡°¡­Anesh!¡± He called after his boyfriend as Anesh leaned down to offer him a hand up next before they could haul Arrush up. ¡°Anesh we should play D&D with Arrush and Keeka!¡± Maybe it was just because compared to James¡¯ last idea of getting up close and personal with a dragon, this one seemed pretty easy to do and non-life-threatening. Maybe it was because they were at the end of their trip inward and the next three days would be getting easier and easier as the expedition headed home. Maybe it was just because Anesh hadn¡¯t gotten to run a game of any RPG in over a year as his multiplicitous life descended into an endless string of problems and conflicts. Whatever it was, that sounded nice. ¡±I could do that.¡± He said with a nod as two of Arrush¡¯s arms clamped around his own and he helped his partner haul their friend up. ¡°But first, are we ready to start heading back now?¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± James said. ¡°This was a bit of a let down, but overall, I think this trip has been worth it. And there¡¯s still plenty of chances for more orbs and stuff on the way out!¡± ¡±You are¡­ too excited about things that might¡­ hurt you.¡± Arrush told him, panting slightly as he tried to express himself. James nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡± He agreed. ¡°Maybe. But also¡­ I dunno. Sometimes it¡¯s worth it.¡± James smiled a broad smile; not a carefree one, not a smile that was blind to the hardship he¡¯d been through or would likely be picking up along the path forward. But a smile that was content. Secure, right now, in the knowledge that continually putting himself in danger had paid off. Hell, Arrush was right there, living proof that his method was working. At least, for him. Still, it was time to turn the expedition around. And James was more than willing to accept the easier time of it they¡¯d have as they got closer and closer to the front door of Officium Mundi. Outside, there was a whole world waiting for him. Problems that were on hold or slowly being chipped away at, people who needed help, projects to be finished. Friends to catch up with. James laughed as he looked down over the empty chunk taken out of the Office¡¯s floor, looking back at where they¡¯d come from. He was watching for movement, but his mind was elsewhere. When Frequency-Of-Sunlight gave him a questioning look, James just shrugged and smiled at her as he answered. ¡±I just realized that I¡¯m thinking of Earth the same way I think of the dungeons.¡± He said. ¡°As somewhere to live, and not just somewhere to survive.¡± ¡±¡­You¡¯re weird man.¡± Sunny told him bluntly. ¡°Come on, Keeka¡¯s gonna put lunch away if we take too long getting back to the rest of them. And it¡¯s your turn to tell the Research squad that we can¡¯t live here!¡± ¡°Heh.¡± James couldn¡¯t even feel bad about having the responsibility foisted on him right now. ¡°Yeah, sure. Let¡¯s go home.¡± _____ Report Draft - Officium Mundi Long Delve - Copier Use Thanks to the efforts of the expedition teams to secure more and more of the ritual coffee for teleport back to our home tower, we¡¯ve been able to continue running the copier ritual constantly this week, both for pure production, and also testing. Testing results first. Attached, find a chart of levels of mundane to ritual coffee needed for various things to be duplicated. Most of this is just formalizing things we already suspected or knew, but extra data is always helpful. Of special interest is that the yellow orbs that underwent the upgrade ritual took a higher density than normal to copy. (Two upgraded orbs were lost in testing. Sorry.) Also, Sewer lesson books officially have the lowest required density of any dungeontech item so far, while Climb books come in at the highest, requiring 96% concentration. Climb books will copy at lower ratios, but the copies come out with worse versions of the spells. Thanks to Rho for helping to verify this, sorry Rho. We¡¯ve also found two other things that simply will not copy. One, the death-reversal pills from the last Status Quo simply do not materialize, no matter what concentration of ritual coffee. That makes two things, this, and the potions that create inhabitors, that show this behavior. Which, personally, makes me think we should think twice about ever using the death pills. The second was the Nokia phone, obviously magic though untested so far since there''s no signal in here (I guess?) That one didn''t just fail to copy, it failed the whole ritual. The switch would not throw while it was in the basket. Not even sure what that means. Replicating Sewer books should be on the list of things to talk about at the next general meeting. We produced several sets on request for groups, but the unique complications they have makes it hard to stockpile the things, or to know if we should even be trying. In other news, the second ritual projector arrived safely. Because it emails objects out to real world email servers and we didn¡¯t think to set one up here for testing ahead of time, we won¡¯t know until we get out if the objects actually arrived, but they did disappear once we got it working. It only works on the top floor of the tower, and we weren¡¯t willing to risk moving the duplication projector at this time, so I don¡¯t know yet if that specific space is the optimal spot. It did take a higher than usual concentration of ritual coffee to work, though. But it did work. So at the very least, we can safely bring the upgrade ritual back here where it won¡¯t require being under guard fifteen kilometers into the dungeon. This doesn¡¯t look good for taking them out of the dungeons, but at least we can keep them closer to where we¡¯re familiar. Now, the duplications. Between myself, my growing army of helpers, and the constant supply of ritual coffee, we averaged 30 duplications a day. This is far and away the best rate we¡¯ve ever sustained, and it¡¯s a good reason to have a permanent expedition in Officium Mundi all on its own. Our duplication efforts focused primarily on priority dungeontech, followed by ritual testing, followed by using the remainder to create test copies of new orbs. We have thousands of new orbs, we will not be able to test all of them in a reasonable time frame, especially not if we keep gathering them. That¡¯s just a fact at this point, we¡¯re going to hit the throughput bottleneck before we can. Duplications and their required distributions include : 62 Logisticors, to be delivered to the Lair¡¯s vault. Inform Karen in particular and Recovery and Research in general that the requested number for beginning operations has been filled. 48 Succulent Pots, to be delivered to the potion area of basement two. 5,400 anti-cancer purple orbs, to be handed off to Justine Bennet or a representative of her office. These are in the grey plastic crates labeled as live lobster. It was what we had on hand for the volume, tell Justine the crates do not contain lobsters. 4 different eight book sets of Sewer lessons. The set labeled as ¡®shop class¡¯ is earmarked for Bill, the others are to be handed off to Texture-Of-Barkdust, Ink-And-Key, and Raul. A backup set of every Climb book, for redundancy. Deliver to the storage at the office around the Office, not to the Lair. 120 new Status Quo brooches, to be put into rotation at the Lair¡¯s baths for leveling. 80 new Status Quo shield bracers, 32 earrings, 8 armament bracelets, and 2 hairpins. All to be delivered to John in Research, for leveling over time. 20 new 4¡± Route Horizon Velocity gears, to be tested for repeatability before we commit to making more. Deliver to Momo. 6 Stacks statuettes (Skirmish Winner Seizes Blades) for delivery to Nate or security squad training area. 6 Stacks statuettes (Fungal Winner Seizes Cleaning) to be delivered to the Lair¡¯s janitorial supply closet for practical application testing. ~2 tons of platinum, to be delivered to the loading dock of the Office office, with an alert sent to Texture-Of-Barkdust 80 Order introductory armory sets; 50 knight armory sets; 20 specialized delver sets each for the Climb, Stacks, and Sewer; 10 rogue armory sets; 10 medical armory sets each for mental health, general practice, and surgical skills; 40 response armory sets. Introductory sets and half the knight and delver sets to the vault, the remainder of the knight and delver sets to the front desk of the Lair. Medical sets to hospital staff, with two sets of each type reserved for unaffiliated hospitals as samples. Response sets to Harvey or Marcus for distribution, rogue sets to Nate or Ben. Boxes ran out due to lack of foresight, so a lot of sets require packing before being handed off. 8 paperweights, to be carefully delivered to the space elevator project team 240 common use blue orbs for absorption, to be delivered to the front desk of the Lair. ~3,000 new copies of orbs spread across Office yellows, purples, and greens, and Stacks yellows, greens, blues, and purples. Varying sizes. To be delivered to the front desk of the Lair, with instructions that they be cracked at the moment of handoff, and the information on the skill recorded along with the code labeled on each orb. 32 orange orbs, to be delivered to the construction project team 10 liters of shaper substance, to be delivered to Deb for testing, labeled as copied. 800 A-type telepads, for handoff to the Lair¡¯s front desk for distribution to the Order The remainder of the duplications were used for individual requests or small batch copies of magic items, and there¡¯s a few too many to list out. Those will be available for pickup by whoever wanted them. Also a single strider wanted to be copied, and I obliged as payment for telepading us a load of coffee from the expedition. They¡¯re still hanging out, both of them, and seem happy to have a friend. -Anesh- Chapter 270 ¡°When someone''s path through this world is marked with acts of cruelty, they have failed the first test of an advanced society. They never forced their animal brain to evolve past its first instinct. They never forged new mental pathways to overcome their own instinctual fears. And so, their thinking and problem-solving will lack the imagination and creativity that the kindest people have in spades¡± -J.B. Pritzker, commencement speech to Northwestern University- _____ ¡°Mmmmmmh.¡± Zhu¡¯s noise of contentment as James walked them through the loading dock of the Lair and into the briefing warehouse was long and a little bit unsettling. ¡°It is nice to be back. The end of a long trip.¡± ¡±We were gone for a week. And then one night after that.¡± James reminded his friend as Zhu¡¯s tail clipped the railing of the big shutter door, threatening to pull him off balance as the navigator writhed enthusiastically. He¡¯d gotten back, and gotten about ten hours adjusted for his apartment¡¯s magic to shower, check some updates to make sure he wasn¡¯t needed, and sleep in a real bed before coming in to the Lair. ¡°That¡¯s hardly a long trip. Though, thinking about it, I suppose that these delves are kinda the longest we¡¯ve been away from home together, huh? I never really asked, but is it the trip itself or the ¡®end¡¯ that¡¯s like food for you?¡± Zhu fluttered his glowing feathers, false dust drifting away before fading out. ¡°Neither. Both? I think it¡¯s less like food and more like spare parts, maybe. Bits of me that I can use to fix things up or add on to myself. Not on purpose, though, it just happens.¡± ¡±Weird.¡± ¡±Oh fuck off, your body has multiple different overlapping systems for moving air around because you die without exposure to your favorite gas.¡± James snickered as he passed through the bustling space, seeing that the Order was already making preparations for another long delve now that they¡¯d started to feel out just how threatening things could get. ¡°Touche.¡± He admitted to Zhu. ¡°We¡¯re all addicted to that sweet sweet oxygen. Anyway I¡¯m mostly asking because¡­ you know. Your current condition.¡± ¡±I¡¯m tired.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice softened as he murmured through his manifested eye on James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t even feel it happening. I¡¯m just¡­ so tired. But it¡¯s less draining to force myself awake than to manifest again. And it¡¯s only sometimes. I get bursts of energy and it would be stupid to waste them.¡± ¡±I¡¯m sorry.¡± James whispered as they passed by a group looking over a map of Missouri. Briefly James considered the political implications of nuking an entire state just to kill the thing that was still hurting his friend, but he knew he¡¯d never seriously entertain the idea. Part of the reason his friends were his friends at all was that they wouldn¡¯t want him committing mass murder on their behalf. It was a pretty low bar to clear, but James was one of the people who did recruitment interviews for the Order sometimes, so he was keenly aware that it was still a real obstacle to some people. ¡°I really am sorry. I don¡¯t even know what to do to help, aside from get you to test out all the purples we picked up, just in case one does it.¡± Zhu laughed, tightening up his feathers as he reclaimed some dignified poise. ¡°I¡¯ll have more superpowers than you by the end of that.¡± He joked. ¡°And if not, at least we¡¯ll figure out if navigators have loot drops, right?¡± ¡±¡­don¡¯t do that.¡± A wet heat built up in the corners of James¡¯ eyes to match the emotional heat of the sudden anger he felt. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± He cut off whatever Zhu was planning to say. ¡°I don¡¯t want to consider it, okay? We¡¯ll¡­ we¡¯ll talk about it if we have to. But let¡¯s try actually keeping you alive first.¡± ¡±Well now I¡¯m sorry.¡± Zhu rumbled. ¡°How come I¡¯m both dying, and the asshole about dying? That¡¯s not fair.¡± The words took James back into the easy flow of banter, without the same painful sting. ¡±You started it.¡± ¡±Actually Harlan started it, if you think about it. Let¡¯s find Harlan and cut their break lines.¡± Zhu suggested maliciously, though perhaps not undeservedly. ¡±I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s on the list of things I¡¯m here to do today.¡± James nodded. ¡±It is not.¡± A rustling paper voice said from inside a desk drawer as James and Zhu passed by, getting a shocked screech from Zhu and a perfectly dignified scream from James. ¡°Apologies.¡± Planner didn¡¯t sound the least bit sorry as one of their long tentacles covered in eyes extended from the shadowy part of the desk that was currently covered in what looked like someone¡¯s craft project. ¡°James, you are going to be late to your appointment.¡± James held a hand to his chest, feeling weirdly vulnerable to be wearing just a teeshirt on the warm spring day after a whole week living in his armor. ¡±I am now!¡± He retaliated against the infomorph. ¡°Planner we¡¯ve talked about this!¡± ¡±You have talked about this. I have found this to be an effective form of motivation.¡± ¡±I¡¯m going to pencil in random meetings and then no-show all of them if you keep this up.¡± James threatened. ¡±You will try to no-show.¡± Planner retorted, their ethereal form pulling back as their voice faded out along with them. ¡°Now get moving.¡± James was still grumbling to himself as he left the back room, nodded a greeting to the two people manning the front desk today, and headed to the elevator. His increasingly creative ideas for getting revenge on Planner building a slow burn of humor in Zhu, who was shaking in small laughs against James¡¯ side. He was so caught up in wondering if he should maybe not actually mess with their most powerful defender that he was caught off guard when El planted herself next to him, leaning sideways to examine him and declaring that ¡°You look like shit.¡± ¡±Oh. Thanks, you too.¡± James nodded before he fully caught up to what she¡¯d said. ¡°Wait. No, don¡¯t wait, I stand by what I said.¡± ¡±Excuse me! I look stylish! Look, eyeliner!¡± El swept a hand across her face. ¡°You look like you just had a heart attack.¡± ¡±Oh! Yeah, Planner.¡± James explained, giving El¡¯s infomorph kid a grin as the little fish ghost thing poked out of her bangs. Across his side, he felt Zhu twitching like the navigator was preparing to bolt off, which got a snort of amusement from James. ¡°Zhu, you don¡¯t have a meeting to go to, you can go play with your friend.¡± Zhu froze for a second, rippling against James. ¡°Oh right! I¡¯m not a responsible adult! I forget sometimes since I¡¯m part you.¡± The navigator peeled away from James, forming into a rough spear of orange light. ¡°Hey Speaky!¡± El¡¯s infomorph darted out abruptly, one fanged fin flicking upward to tap Zhu on the edge of his projection. ¡°Tag!¡± The little toothy fish declared, before twisting in the air and darting away, Zhu in hot pursuit of his friend. ¡±¡­Okay yeah be safe or some shit!¡± El yelled after her kid. ¡°You¡¯re a bad influence.¡± She grumbled when it was just her and James waiting for the elevator left. ¡±Me?!¡± ¡±Oh, nah, I¡¯m talking to myself. Hey, how was the dungeon?¡± ¡±Not bad, not bad. Missed Momo on it, honestly. Since Nik¡¯s been smarter about stuff we don¡¯t really have a designated bad idea person, you know? I need someone to poke the dangerous things for me.¡± James shrugged. ¡°But we¡¯ll have other chances. How¡¯s she doing?¡± El¡¯s mouth twitched into a slight frown for a brief second. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ grumpy.¡± She idly scratched the side of her neck. ¡°You¡¯ve met Momo. She¡¯d fucking love to live in a dank basement her whole life, right up until the exact moment she has to stay in bed, and then she¡¯ll demand sunshine and shit.¡± ¡°Deb did say she¡¯d make a full recovery.¡± ¡°Man you let her get hit with a fucking cannonball.¡± El sighed. ¡°I¡¯m kinda freaked out that she isn¡¯t just dead.¡± James opened his mouth to say something, but El beat him to it. ¡°I¡¯m not saying you should stop dungeoneering or something stupid like that. I live here, come on. And it¡¯s not like I could stop Momo from aggressively flirting with danger without her breaking up with me anyway. But like¡­¡± She trailed off and James picked up the tenuous statement. ¡°But dungeons are dangerous.¡± He said softly. ¡°We¡¯ve got people in the hospital downstairs missing teeth and eating through a tube who would have just been fucking dead without purple orbs. This shit is risky, and we need to be more careful, especially if we¡¯re going to be making a habit of it.¡± He considered shrugging, but held back, not wanting his acknowledgment to seem too casual. El grunted majestically. ¡°Yeah, I keep getting invited to all the new week-long excursions. But I¡¯ve got kids to wrangle now.¡± There was a temptation for James to tell El they were going to invite her to be a full time teacher at the school they were planning to open. That her work with the Order¡¯s youth groups, helping acclimate human kids to living with other forms of life, and giving the emotionally and intellectually less mature ratroaches, camracondas, and stuff animals a place to learn and grow on their own terms, was actually hugely valuable, and hadn¡¯t gone unnoticed. The temptation was born of the perverse glee James took in inflicting on others the responsibility that had been foist upon him. Though that was kind of unfair; he could have said no at any time. Maybe even should have. But it always felt more important to step up than step back, like it mattered in a way that was bigger than his own life, his own comfort. Thing was, though, he kinda had a feel for how El was doing as a person. The way she¡¯d been changed by her time here, both obviously and in more subtle ways. And James was pretty sure she wouldn¡¯t say no either. Not for the same reasons as him, hell no. El wasn¡¯t nearly so self-sacrificing. But she¡¯d been tricked into giving a shit about people, and James was confident that she wouldn¡¯t want to fail them now. She¡¯d still complain though, when the time came. That was fine. Every single person in the Order had fucking earned the right to winge to their heart¡¯s content. But James didn¡¯t want to spoil it early, so he just went with ¡°Yeah, that seems fun. I¡¯ve seen your crew playing¡­ sport?¡­ out back. Some sport.¡± ¡±Pluralist Ball.¡± El¡¯s eyes shone as she grinned, the smile utterly changing her face from its usual subconscious half-scowl. ¡°Honestly very cool shit. Most kids are bad at making rules for it, but it¡¯s just fucking neat to throw them all together and let them play. The rats especially. They abstractly know what play is, but never got to do it, and they¡­ they just¡­¡± El¡¯s voice cracked and she looked away, flicking a pair of fingers across the corner of her eye. ¡°It¡¯s cool though. Especially since our back lot is a fucked up obstacle course now? Oh, I need a budget for pool noodles. That reminds me.¡± ¡±Done.¡± James handed her two thousand dollars, which El took on reflex and then stared at uncomprehending. ¡°For the edges I¡¯m assuming? That¡¯s cool. I¡¯ll appreciate that when Nate puts me through my paces there again. I¡¯m almost to being able to drop two squads at once.¡± ¡±¡­why do you have this?¡± ¡±It¡¯s the panic casting.¡± James answered a question El hadn¡¯t even come close to asking. ¡°I finally got some spells down to reflexes, and now I have to undo that. Real pain in the ass. Also can¡¯t do it too often because there¡¯s a limit on spare charges on the squo gear.¡± El held up the roll of bills. ¡°Why the hell do you just have this.¡± ¡±Anyway, it¡¯s been good talking to you, but I do actually need to get upstairs, and I¡¯m not sure why we¡¯re still waiting here.¡± James looked up at the floor indicator for the elevator. ¡±I¡¯ll tell you if you tell me where the cash came from.¡± ¡±Dungeon stuff.¡± James relented with a laugh. ¡°Also can you keep an eye on Zhu today while I¡¯m busy? I¡¯m worried about him¡± ¡±Yeah, of course.¡± El answered instantly, even if she sounded a little irate. Then she leaned forward and slapped the call button for the elevator. ¡°Have fun at your meeting.¡± She said with a wolfish grin. James didn¡¯t have a good retort to that. _____ The first important thing James had to deal with - which he wasn¡¯t late for, and now suspected Planner had lied about the timing of to motivate him - was partly a security briefing, and partly about the nature of how they were going to be doing security briefings from now on. ¡°If you want more paladins,¡± Nate opened by telling him, ¡°then you need some structure. Actual requirements to keep up on training and intelligence.¡± James nodded, taking a seat opposite Nate at their conference table. They were the only two people here, high over a different city, with a nice morning view of the highways already ruining everything. ¡°Agreed. I¡¯m thinking that we set up two or three days a month that are specifically for paladin crisis training, and another few days for non-critical status reports. Mandatory attendance for one day in each category, even for me. This also gives us a chance as we grow to maintain a shared ethical culture without relying on properly interpreting the ops manual.¡± Nate¡¯s eyes flicked to his laptop, sitting askew on the table in between them, before going back to James with an appraising look. His eyebrows and beard were back, though not the rest of his hair, but at this point that seemed like an aesthetic choice. ¡°Didn¡¯t actually think you¡¯d have thought about this.¡± He gruffly stated. ¡°How many people?¡± ¡±What?¡± ¡±How many new paladins are you minting?¡± Nate asked. ¡°And what do you plan on doing with them?¡± ¡±Oh! Three, to start.¡± James said as he relaxed into the padded chair, every bruise and aching bone in his body demanding he simply surrender to staying here forever. ¡°As for what I have planned for them¡­ nothing. That¡¯s the point.¡± Nate shut the laptop with a rough clack and folded his tattooed arms as he leaned back and watched James. ¡°Really.¡± ¡±Really.¡± James nodded. ¡°I¡¯m picking people that match the vibe I want to encourage in the Order. Not all of it, but facets of it, in different ways. I want them to be equals to whatever stupid position I have, not subordinates. And my job, as we¡¯ve talked about, is mostly to solve problems.¡± He smiled. ¡°So I¡¯m going to give them access to all our resources with, you know, the same oversight and restrictions that I get, and then I¡¯m going to tell them to keep doing what they¡¯ve been doing. Most of the time they¡¯ll be improving communication between groups and projects, sometimes they¡¯ll be doing the dangerous stuff, when needed they¡¯ll be our frontline protectors. And when they find problems, I expect them to solve them without needing permission.¡± ¡±That¡¯s gonna cause more problems.¡± Nate rightly pointed out. ¡±Uh huh. So what?¡± James shrugged. ¡°Back in the olden days when dinosaurs roamed the earth, my girlfriend told me about something called the utopia fallacy, and I think she meant the nirvana fallacy, but whatever. The point is-¡° ¡±I¡¯ve heard enough of Alanna yelling at the new kids to know what it is.¡± Nate cut him off. ¡°You¡¯re serious about this?¡± James smiled and nodded stiffly, his neck threatening to try to murder him if he used that muscle again. ¡°Yup. Here¡¯s the thing; it¡¯s always going to come back to the issue of control. We could try to keep a grip on everyone we give power to. We could have a laundry list of requirements for this position and a hierarchy of command that would make the sweatiest bureaucracy blush. We could make an org chart and have laws.¡± James traced a finger in an arc across the table. ¡°And we will figure out what among those things works, and make use of them. But man, look at the world.¡± ¡±Which part? Not that it matters. It¡¯s all kinda fucked.¡± ¡±Elegant. Also not really correct but close enough.¡± James laughed and was gratified to see Nate¡¯s rocky facade crack slightly with the humor. ¡°The US has laws, and yet, it has corruption. The problem was never the laws, it was where things started, and what was allowed to happen. The ¡®way things are¡¯ isn¡¯t working, so we shouldn¡¯t use it as a foundation for our own way of doing business. Instead, we¡¯re going to do something a little bit old school, and lean on community and responsibility. And also cheat with magic.¡± Rubbing a hand across his face and pressing his boxy glasses up to his forehead, Nate groaned. ¡°And when you say cheat with magic, you¡¯re talking about, what, brainwashing people?¡± ¡±Only a little bit.¡± James tapped the table in a rapid little beat. ¡°I¡¯m actually way more interested in how the relationsticks and the now-proven-success of the avatar¡­ maneuver?¡­ make it possible to have people with massive focused power to use on things that require it, while also making it so that power isn¡¯t inherent to them and can be rescinded.¡± ¡±We¡¯ll have words about the brainwashing later.¡± ¡±It¡¯s the wrong word.¡± James rolled his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s the encouragement of a healthy emotional state through a mix of magic, lifestyle, and education.¡± Nate didn¡¯t look convinced. ¡°Whatever. You¡¯re not stealing any of my rogues for this are you? And when are you even planning to tell the Order at large about this?¡± ¡±Not this time. But if you have candidates, tell me for the second batch.¡± James was back to an easy smile. ¡°And I¡¯m planning for making an announcement in a few days, after I talk to the candidates, and then setting up something dramatic and public because I¡¯m secretly the world¡¯s biggest ham.¡± ¡±Secretly my ass.¡± Nate snorted. ¡°Alright. Now for the real shit.¡± He pulled his laptop across the table with a rubbery squeak and flipped it back open, making James wonder how many laptops Nate went through every year. ¡°Status Quo, Harlan, Priority Earth, the FBI, CSIS, pillars. What do you wanna hear first?¡± ¡±CSIS?¡± James cocked an eyebrow. ¡°We pissed off Canada? I like Canada! I was a citizen once!¡± Nate¡¯s mouth quirked upward slightly. ¡°I¡¯m partly fucking with you, but let¡¯s start there. We heard from Malcom while you were in the Office. No serious updates, except to say that they¡¯re planning a joint operation against the Priority Earth camp, because it¡¯s technically on the Canadian border with Alaska. Or close enough that they¡¯re working together. What he unintentionally revealed is that they¡¯ve got their own weird department, and also that both of them are getting¡­ hrmph.¡± Nate grunted as he tried to find the word. ¡°Better.¡± ¡±Better at finding weirdness?¡± James asked. ¡°Because that could have serious value to us when we do start operating more in public in the near future.¡± ¡°Could be. The short version is that Malcom¡¯s actually keeping his people around. No more losses to memory issues. And CSIS from the sound of things has the same thing going on.¡± ¡±¡­we should actually tell Research about this.¡± James said, rubbing the back of his neck and fiddling with the clip on his skulljack. ¡°Reed and Planner have been trying to figure out if the field effect is even real for over a year now, and they¡¯re not the only ones.¡± ¡±Up to you.¡± Nate sounded like he had an opinion but kept it to himself. ¡°The point is, they¡¯re going to start getting better if this keeps up. There¡¯s a reason they slept on the ecoterrorist cell operating in plain sight, and it¡¯s probably the same reason the cops haven¡¯t shot anyone from Response. It¡¯s hard to take action when you¡¯re fucking forgetting shit all the time and your files go missing.¡± James nodded. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan for that?¡± ¡±I¡¯m just here to bring you up to speed.¡± Nate said. ¡°Do we need a plan for it?¡± ¡±¡­I guess not.¡± James said as he thought about it. ¡°Malcom owes us some magic blueprints, which I fully do not expect them to give us. But since Priority Earth stopped fucking setting car bombs, I¡¯m fine letting the government arrest and or shoot them.¡± He frowned. ¡°Wow that sounds bad.¡± Nate snorted dismissively. ¡°Look, I know you¡¯ve got some ideas on how things should go. I even agree a little. Maybe we¡¯ll get that world you¡¯re dreaming of someday. But right now, I wouldn¡¯t recommend just asking these guys nicely. Though I might be biased.¡± He ground his teeth and repressed a shudder, thinking of his time trapped in a giant hypnotic plant until James and JP had found him and pulled him out. ¡°Oh, Harlan¡¯s crew is still there, so you know. Harlan checked in with them.¡± ¡°How do you even know that?¡± ¡±We can be invisible and incorporeal and you think I¡¯m not training my people to abuse the shit out of that?¡± Nate sounded like he didn¡¯t want an actual answer. ¡°They¡¯ve beefed up security, and have an actual close intercept ship gun mostly concealed in the camp. No fucking clue where they got that. Point is, we know Harlan¡¯s in the area. They can¡¯t teleport without their gear, and they only ever use the thing in the air. Probably so they don¡¯t leave a trace.¡± ¡±We¡¯re calling the teleport gears ¡®logisticors¡¯.¡± James helpfully and happily pointed out. Nate scowled. ¡°I bet you are.¡± He shot down James¡¯ attempt at sharing like he was a verbal version of the anti missile gun Harlan had somehow stolen. ¡°Point is, Harlan showed up and has been in and out with their fancy fucking chopper a dozen times, but they don¡¯t teleport out without it. They¡¯re in Anchorage right now, doing¡­ something. Lurking.¡± ¡±¡­that sounds like the kind of unprofessional bullshit I¡¯d say. Are you feeling okay?¡± ¡±It¡¯s been a long week.¡± Nate grunted. ¡°Unimportant. Let¡¯s get through this briefing.¡± The rest of his information on Priority Earth and the surrounding issues was sparse, but delivered in a rapid fire method. They were stockpiling guns and ammo, but they seemed to be uninterested in recruiting in any way. There was still no indication of what had happened to them to change their operations, or why they¡¯d apparently purged their own ranks, but the Order¡¯s infomorphs had confirmed there was no living infomorphic life in the area, so it wasn¡¯t that at least. Most of their business outside their camp was done in groups of five or six, with the men taking off-road vehicles to near the closest things that counted as roads and from there spending days navigating back to civilization. Usually to retrieve money that was used to pay Harlan, who was doing a lot of the heavy lifting on the gun stockpiling, though Nate didn¡¯t know where the money was coming from. There was no indication they had the capability to repeat what had happened at the coal plant they¡¯d wiped out of the public record. Nor was there any indication they even knew about it themselves. The rogues had identified two other sites they¡¯d hit, also coal burning power plants, that had undergone similar transformations. All three had all the employees still alive in the pods the massive hypnotic plants grew, though something about the process did erase them from memory the same as the locations themselves. Recovery was working with them, and Nate stoically refused to editorialize about their mental state. Instead, he focused on how they were adapting their methodology to search for similar places that were like information black holes. It sounded worryingly familiar. ¡°Didn¡¯t we¡­ do this before?¡± James asked. ¡°Did we do this, and then forget we did this?¡± ¡±No.¡± Nate bluntly reassured him. ¡°We used the method to try to find dungeons for a while, but never turned up any solid hits. So I don¡¯t have high hopes for this either. I mostly bring it up because we need to decide what to do with the plants, and the¡­ plants. The places themselves could actually be good safehouses for us, but the murderous flowers are a problem.¡± ¡±They are literally the opposite of murderous.¡± James pointed out. ¡°As in, they keep their prisoners alive. Seemingly indefinitely? Like, that I think we should study. I was mostly waiting to make sure Priority Earth wasn¡¯t going to be a problem before I okayed the Research budget for a full time staff on site at the first one. They want to hire a lot of people who cost a lot of money. Do you know what xenogeneticists make?¡± ¡°Do you?¡± ¡±No. No one does. It¡¯s not a real job yet. Which mostly means they want to get paid either way too little, or way too much.¡± James tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling of their secondary skyscraper office. ¡°I like the safehouse idea though. Who should we get on that?¡± ¡±Ben isn¡¯t busy. I¡¯ll get him to do it. Any requests?¡± Nate pulled up a blank document and stared at James expectantly. James honestly figured Nate would know better than him, and said so. ¡°But!¡± He added. ¡°Make them safehouses for the Order, not just knights or rogues, right? Food supplies, living quarters, that kind of thing. Places we can run to, if¡­ well.¡± He took a deep breath, trying to not stress about it. But it was better to plan for cataclysmic failure and not need it, than to lose everything in an attack they weren¡¯t ready for. ¡°See what we can do with the orange totems we use to clone-expand the Lair. Can we just copy paste our hospital into every new place we set down roots in?¡± ¡±The plant beat you to the roots.¡± Nate joked, getting a bark of laughter from James at the unexpected quip, followed by a groan of pain as James strained his bruised shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll get some people working on it. The infomorph requirement to be there safely might be an issue though. Not everyone has a partner, and not everyone wants one like a lot of your friends do.¡± ¡±¡­Okay, I¡¯m aware that there¡¯s some social and emotional considerations at play. But that¡¯s a weird way to phrase it.¡± Nate just stared at him. ¡°People you¡¯re friends with are the most likely to actively want a navigator or assignment. People who don¡¯t, you¡¯re not gonna be friends with, and you fucking know it.¡± ¡±I honestly think that¡¯s a coincidence.¡± James wasn¡¯t sure what he was defending himself from, but he felt mildly offended anyway, just from Nate¡¯s tone. ¡°I¡¯ll look into one of the plants with some people in the near future, and update you, though.¡± Nate nodded at him, and James tried to not frown at feeling like he¡¯d somehow just lost a conversation. ¡°Anyway. Status Quo?¡± That report was a lot faster, and a lot simpler, with one major caveat. The simple part was, they were gone. This branch, anyway. The kind of operation, they knew now, existed all over the place. People who assumed authority through violence, and worked to suppress magic wherever they could. James felt like maybe the Order was worryingly close to the edge of falling into that mindset; he could see the future where they fucked up and turned into another one of those organizations, probably justifying it as ¡®for the greater good¡¯, and he didn¡¯t like it. Which was part of why he wanted more paladins to act as guiding forces for them now, before they really needed it. This Status Quo was dead though. Their membership had splintered after their home base had been destroyed by¡­ well, not even by the Chain Breaker. By their own shortsightedness and fear. And also James, a little. They¡¯d had people just quit, abandoning their role in the machinery to go off and do other things, and while the rogues could hunt them down, Nate had accurately guessed that the Order of Endless Rooms wasn¡¯t in the business of retribution. The last of their people had died in or shortly after a series of car crashes in Yamhill. And that was it, the book was mostly closed. Mostly. One person was left. One person who¡¯d taken a huge risk to betray his coworkers, who, not even knowing the Order was in the area, had taken action to stop what Status Quo was doing. A little late, since up until they¡¯d started hurting humans he¡¯d been totally fine with it, but still. He¡¯d done something. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing.¡± Nate never started sentences that way, and it worried James instantly. ¡°I want to cut him loose.¡± He looked at the paladin like he was expecting pushback, and found only curiosity. ¡°He¡¯s a bastard. But he¡¯s not a useful source of intelligence for people who aren¡¯t alive. And he did tell us about the satellite, so-¡° ¡±Stop.¡± James held up a hand. ¡°The what?¡± ¡±Woulda figured someone would tell you about that.¡± Nate frowned. ¡°That¡¯s a big problem. We need to work on getting high priority reports out to people. Might be a .mem worthy solution. Anyway, this group used a lot of their money and connections to influence a telecom company. And from there, piggybacked on a satellite launch to put their own hardware in orbit. That¡¯s how they set the fire; using the sat as part of their ritual that cooked food, paired with people on the ground to do all the chanting. Wide area hit. Also why homes and restaurants went up so fast while the fire skirted parks and some other businesses.¡± ¡±That¡¯s¡­ fucking weird. So they had a really selective orbital laser?¡± James asked. Nate nodded once sharply. ¡°And now we have it. They seemed to think it would work just fine to start a wildfire, since they were trying to flush out the chanter population from the woods. Probably by setting a hundred small fires on fruits or nuts and then letting it go nuts with no one to stop that.¡± For a guy who tended to appreciate heavy weapons, Nate didn¡¯t sound especially excited about it. His next words unfortunately explained why. ¡°Oh, it sucks, though. Unless you want to fuck up a population center, or just ruin part of a national park, there isn¡¯t much point to it. It¡¯s only barely targetable, and has no way to dial in the¡­ ritual zone? The target.¡± ¡±That¡¯s fucking psychotic. But I guess we knew that.¡± James wanted to sigh, or maybe go take a nap and wait to forget about this madness, but his magically reinforced energy stockpile made that option less viable. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen if we let him go? Worst case.¡± ¡±He restarts a SQ group using hidden resources we don¡¯t know about. Probably copies of the digital memetic attacks, or access to that satellite we don¡¯t know about.¡± ¡±Yeah, hey, can we just get rid of that?¡± ¡±¡­can we get rid of the thing in Earth orbit?¡± Nate questioned incredulously. James walked headfirst into the sarcastic question. ¡±That is what I¡¯m asking, yes.¡± ¡°Can we, a small group without spaceships or surface-to-orbit missiles, shoot down a communications satellite miles overhead outside the atmosphere.¡± ¡°¡­we can¡¯t, can we?¡± ¡±No.¡± ¡±Damn. Okay. I¡¯m guessing he doesn¡¯t want to stay with us.¡± ¡±No, he¡¯s racist.¡± Nate said bluntly. ¡°Tried to attack a camraconda when he woke up. I¡¯m talking to you about this instead of having you meet him, because I think you¡¯d punch him, and if his wounds aren¡¯t healed right you might actually kill the guy. He¡¯s a human supremacist, who¡¯s also just a little regular racist too. And don¡¯t get me wrong; your weird fucking way of it could probably change him. Eventually. But he doesn¡¯t want to change. So I¡¯m asking if we want to force the issue like with the Alchemists.¡± That was a good question to actually think about. But overall, James was pretty sure that he¡¯d rather not go through that test right now, while the Order was still in the stages of establishing themselves. They were a strong community, no denying it, and they¡¯d be able to handle one asshole until that asshole changed. But he wasn¡¯t willing to commit to keeping someone against their will until they became a better person. The Alchemists, they¡¯d been in the middle of a half dozen crimes, and the survivors had surrendered themselves to the care of the Order, for better or worse. It wasn¡¯t great, but it was still an agreement to try. James had a hard time wanting to impose that on someone that just wasn¡¯t interested. Especially someone who, for all their shitty behavior, had turned on his people before they¡¯d finished carrying out their mass murder. ¡±Let him go.¡± He said. ¡°Maybe with a probation style thing, where we do check ins. You know, because, even if we¡¯re not the government and he¡¯s not our prisoner, he was part of a group that perpetuated a genocide for a long time, and I have zero sympathy for him.¡± ¡±Sure.¡± Nate made a note. ¡°Oh, also, we¡¯ve cracked a lot of their documents. They were bulletproof specifically because their mandated upgrade path gave bullet resistance, among other things. There¡¯s a full breakdown of their agent¡¯s magic and the loot drops from the chanters in the dangerous information vault, if you wanna check that out later.¡± He got a nod of acknowledgment from James, along with pursed lips and a sense that the younger man might just refuse to learn out of moral principle. Something Nate respected, even if he didn¡¯t think it was tactically optimal. The last thing was the pillars. And information there was sparse. The thing they were now pretty sure was called Blitzkrieg was in Texas again, however briefly. No sign of the Chain Breaker, the Long Arm Of The Law, or the Last Line Of Defense. New York without the explosions had apparently quieted down to a place they didn¡¯t feel like making their battleground. And of course, no further information on the Right Person At The Right Moment. Nick - James liked thinking of him as Nick, because it was funny - was probably the only one of them that was even remotely helpful. And he¡¯d asked for help in turn. And it killed him, every time James thought of it, to know that he didn¡¯t even know where to start. They couldn¡¯t even have a real conversation, and the only idea anyone had was engineering the circumstances where someone would be in mortal peril without intervention from Nick. Which was stupid at best and deadly at worst, making it officially in the bottom twenty percent of ideas the Order had considered. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°Did we ever put Planner¡¯s idea into action of being prepared to demolish the Library if the Old¡­ if Blitzkrieg gets close to it?¡± Nate gave him a quick nod, and pushed a file from his laptop to James¡¯ skulljack braid with more details. ¡°Not something we should get comfortable with.¡± He said, as if James could ever get comfortable with explosive demolition. ¡°Alright.¡± He stood and stretched. ¡°Well, thanks for the full update. I¡¯m not sure what to do about half of this, but at least next month you¡¯ll be telling more people about problems they can¡¯t handle than just me.¡± ¡°Not every problem has a magic bullet.¡± Nate reminded him. ¡°Sometimes you just keep an eye on it, and wait until it gives you a weak spot.¡± James opened his mouth slowly, staring at Nate with a worried look. ¡°What a¡­ really unsettling way to say that!¡± He said eventually. ¡°So you can shoot it.¡± Nate added. ¡°Yeah, I got that. Thanks. I¡¯m gonna go check in with Kirk and Chevoy now. Please don¡¯t follow your instincts and murder them now that they¡¯re exposing vulnerable parts.¡± He left before Nate bothered to reply. _____ He didn¡¯t get too far before his phone rang. James saw an unknown number through the interface his skulljack braid gave him, and he considered just not answering it as he walked toward the elevator back to the Lair. That plan to do nothing metastasized as he passed by a twitchy purple furred ratroach. ¡°Hey Smoke.¡± James waved slowly so as not to spook her. The two of them were really good at ambushing each other by accident, and he didn¡¯t want to make that a tradition. James looked closer at her, noticing a host of small differences in her form. ¡°You look good today!¡± He couldn¡¯t keep a smile off his face at the remade form of the young ratroach. Smoke¡¯s own smile flared up, realigned fangs flashing briefly as she curled her triangular head down in embarrassment. She actually curled in on herself much farther than a human could, chitin bending and making organic creaks as she layered her left hands over her face. When she whispered an agreement, so quietly that he couldn¡¯t even hear the words, James had one of those moments where he felt like it had all been worth it. He got those a lot, these days. Half the Order triggered the feeling, actually, which probably meant he was doing something right. ¡±I hope it feels good.¡± James nodded, still grinning as he stepped aside to let a pair of humans by, busy with the utterly mundane task of sorting out how much they spent on food for the Lair. ¡°Hey! I hear you made a friend online?¡± Smoke¡¯s demeanor shifted instantly to something James found hilariously familiar; the exact same feeling he always got from his younger sister when she was irate about drama in her social circle, only transported onto a face with three times as many eyes. Smoke still didn¡¯t speak up, but she did whisper something in an airy voice as she balled up her slender fingers, crossed her arms, and shook her head back and forth like she was trying to dislodge something. ¡±¡­Yeah, I¡¯ve had online friend groups too.¡± James said, hoping that was what he was agreeing to as his phone buzzed again. ¡°Well hey, if you need¡­ anything¡­ okay, I need to take a phone call. It¡¯s cool to see you doing better! Tell me if you ever need a hand with anything!¡± He sighed as the same number called him again, waving to Smoke with a little more energy as he headed down the hall to the office he shared with Rufus, apparently on a permanent basis. James shot the strider a nod as he walked in, Rufus busy with a stack of printed resumes. It looked like his friend was going to try to engage him in conversation, but James tapped the side of his head and turned away as he answered the third attempt in as many minutes to contact him. ¡°James¡¯ phone, this is James¡¯.¡± He said. ¡±Really? You don¡¯t sound like James.¡± A familiar and slightly sarcastic woman¡¯s voice said. ¡±Well, I¡¯m answering with my brain and not my voice, and I¡¯m not great at this yet. Also who is this?¡± He realized he maybe shouldn¡¯t just offer that information up to anyone without asking the second part first. There was a small pause. ¡±It¡¯s Theo. We used to work together.¡± Technically true but also skipping the detail that she¡¯d been one in a long line of managers, none of whom James had particularly liked as coworkers. Theo should have gone with a more approachable ¡®you risked your life for me once¡¯. ¡±Oh. Right, hi.¡± James grimaced. ¡°To be clear, I do remember you, I just haven¡¯t heard you over the phone in a long time, and even then it was mostly telling me I was losing my weekend, so this is different.¡± ¡±Yeah, you¡¯re probably wondering where I¡¯ve been.¡± He snorted out loud, getting a side-eye from Rufus, the growing strider welcoming a small distraction from his work. ¡°I have not.¡± James said. ¡°Because the last time I saw you, you were being kinda racist.¡± ¡±Hey, that¡¯s not fucking fair!¡± Theo snapped at him. ¡°Having questions about the things that burrow into your brain and eat your dreams is pretty goddamn far from racism!¡± James rolled his eyes, trying to temper his annoyance with his old boss with the reminder that this really wasn¡¯t a big deal, and her dumb opinion wasn¡¯t relevant to the conversation. ¡°Theo, why are you calling me.¡± He asked flatly. Maybe too flatly, his skulljack voice probably coming across like he was an inhabitor. She cleared her throat on the other end of the line, the sound especially grating with how James had chosen to take this particular call. He was starting to think maybe just using phones as phones was a better option than using his skulljack to do everything. ¡°Well, you know how I¡¯ve been gone for a while?¡± ¡±Vaguely.¡± ¡±Some asshole hit my car with a pickup truck. While I was in it.¡± Theo said, voice strained, and James widened his eyes at the news. He didn¡¯t exactly like Theo, but he didn¡¯t want her to get run over or anything. Before he could ask if she needed help, she added a bit more information that made it worse. ¡°So I¡¯ve been in a coma for a month.¡± ¡±Christ.¡± James spoke out loud, disconnecting from the skulljack and holding his phone up to use his natural voice. ¡°Do you need anything? I can cover your medical bills, or find you something to help heal, or-¡° ¡±It¡¯s actually annoying that I want to think you¡¯re a dumbass that¡¯s way too trusting, and then you prove me right by saying things like that, and I¡¯m the asshole.¡± Theo muttered. ¡°No, I guess what I want is a consultation. Since you¡¯re a wizard, or so you keep saying.¡± ¡±It¡¯s true, I am. I got business cards made.¡± James lied. Theo didn¡¯t laugh. ¡°My leg grew back.¡± She said. That one caught James off guard for two reasons. ¡°You lost a leg?¡± He asked as he dragged a hand through his hair. He remembered Theo had gotten a purple orb for something like this, but it had been on that list of ¡®never going to be tested¡¯ effects. ¡±And an arm. And a few fingers. And a lot of blood, and a kidney, and brain function for a few minutes.¡± Theo rattled off her injuries like they were nothing. ¡°By the time I woke up, my leg was back, and the doctors have a million questions for me. My arm¡¯s on the way. So I¡¯m asking you, before I screw something up, if I can sell my blood.¡± ¡±¡­I literally just offered you money¡­¡± James muttered. Theo continued, ignoring him. ¡°I¡¯m apparently some kind of medical marvel. So in addition to maybe being a touching interview on early morning television, a lot of people want my body. For science.¡± He could almost hear Theo shrug. ¡°And this time the biologically impressive black lady actually gets paid for it. You know, if that¡¯s a good idea.¡± ¡±It¡¯s¡­ not the worst idea.¡± James admitted, mind racing. ¡°I have some thoughts. For one thing, if the purple orb effects change the body in a way that¡¯s replicable by modern medicine, that¡¯s huge. And I¡¯m tempted to give you the thumbs up based on just that. But Theo, there are people out there who might hunt you down for spare parts if they knew, and I can¡¯t just pretend there¡¯s no risk to exposing yourself like that.¡± ¡±I mean, the hospital already knows I regrew half my body, and humans aren¡¯t supposed to do that.¡± ¡±Humans aren¡¯t supposed to do that yet.¡± James corrected coyly. ¡°But seriously. I¡¯m not kidding. You were around for the first Status Quo, and we¡¯ve tangled with a second version of them now too. There¡¯s gotta be more, and I don¡¯t know if any of them are jabbing their fingers back into the pie of our home state. If you want to do this, you can, I won¡¯t stop you. Hell, I¡¯ll assign you security if you need it. I¡¯m just warning you, not making a threat or anything.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± Theo said after a long pause. ¡°I¡¯m gonna do it. Thanks for the heads up. Good luck with your thing.¡± She hung up before he could reply. James pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the flat black rectangle in his hand. That was the least normal Theo interaction he¡¯d ever had, and she¡¯d once asked him to pretend to be her to their upper management so she could take a secret vacation. Maybe the whole thing was more important to her than James had uncharitably assumed. Though he was still kinda annoyed she¡¯d brushed off his multiple offers of help. Looking over at Rufus, James sighed dramatically to get the strider¡¯s attention. ¡°My old boss lost some limbs and now science wants to know how she got them back.¡± He announced. Rufus tilted his organic metal hull sideways, his central eye flicking upward before he tapped some of his own pen legs together, as if to say, ¡°Big deal. I can do that.¡± ¡±Yes, well, we can¡¯t all be perfect life forms.¡± James reminded his small friend as he headed out, shutting the door behind him. _____ James took some time to check in on Kirk down in the hospital space. The man was unconscious, but not in critical condition anymore thanks to the rapid response they¡¯d had to his injury. Deb had been very, very explicit that humans were not supposed to survive that kind of thing, describing in painful detail the ways that sort of impact interrupted important things in the human body like ¡®working organs¡¯ or ¡®breathing¡¯. He¡¯d given an apology, but that wasn¡¯t really what Deb was looking for. She really did just want him to know that it was a fucking miracle neither of the two humans had died. The vent spider thing was still alive too, though it hadn¡¯t regained consciousness yet either, and the medical authorities didn¡¯t work on it, so Deb was working with Mars for a mechanical treatment plan to make sure it didn¡¯t die. He also said hi to Banana, and ran into Alanna down there doing the same thing, his partner showing the crow wasp girl how to fold paper airplanes with careful motions of her claws. There were actually a bunch of people to check in with here, which was worrying. Though most of the prisoners from Status Quo had moved on, there was one kid who hadn¡¯t emotionally recovered that James tried to visit when he could. Also he wanted to say hi to Mercy while he was here, just to make sure he was aware of what was going on with the hospital¡¯s emotional support infomorph. And it was a good time to say hi to Spire-Cast-Behind and see how she was doing at one of the eight different jobs she¡¯d picked up around here. Notably absent from the hospital was Chevoy, and when James had asked, Deb, Mercy, and Spire had collectively scowled so hard he was worried it was going to melt the paint off the walls. James had found Chevoy in the area of their labyrinthine basements that was where the furniture from the Stratified Underburbs was being slowly tested. Tracking her there had involved asking around, and being sent back and forth between the secure vault, the open basemen where people were back to tinkering with their asphalt mech, the skulljack braid production room, the server room, the backup server room, the magical server room, the baths, Reed¡¯s office, Chevoy¡¯s own office - James knew in advance with his massive intellect she wouldn¡¯t actually be there but he felt compelled to check - and the apartments of three different people that she might be staying with. This had the beneficial effect of slowly ablating away James¡¯ own scowl by the time he found Chevoy, leaving him merely disappointed and not actively fuming. It was also good exercise. Chevoy was awkwardly slouched on a couch that had upholstery in a color that was about as much of a war crime as James could expect from the Underburbs. A kind of green-splattered sickly yellow. She was apparently reading out of a paperback she had in her hands to a pair of camracondas, though it was hard to imagine how someone was supposed to read when their face was nothing but red-black bruises, and their mouth stuffed with gauze. As James approached, he got an idea of what was going on. Chevoy was speaking mostly in strained groans, subvocalizing words in her throat without moving her mouth that much. And yet, James still felt like he was keeping up with her as she read off her book to the snakes taking notes. ¡±Ahem.¡± He introduced himself, folding his arms. ¡±Oh, good evening.¡± Paper-And-Words said politely. ¡°Are you here to assist with testing, or will there be more yelling happening?¡± That sort of answered one of James¡¯ questions of if anyone knew that Chevoy was here. ¡°I don¡¯t plan on yelling.¡± He said, crossing his arms at the engineer who was busy rearranging the gauze that was filling the holes some of her teeth used to occupy. ¡°Chevoy. How¡¯s it going.¡± His voice was dryer than desert dirt. She took a second to swallow awkwardly and clear her throat before making a series of unintelligible grunts. Which, somehow, were still intelligible enough for James to understand it as something like ¡°Not bad, no need to freak out.¡± ¡±Oh, I do disagree.¡± He shook his head as he affected a mock posh tone. ¡°You see, I came down here to check on one of our precious knights, who was nearly mortally wounded in action, only to find she¡¯s had her body commandeered by the vengeful spirit of some random dumbass who has dragged her to a magical couch.¡± ¡±Yeah!¡± Chevoy¡¯s eyes watered as she started to smile and one of the bandages on her cheek dampened with blood where she split a cut open. Her next whimper didn¡¯t mean anything, but the followup groans came out as barely understandable. ¡°Figured the couch out. Well, this couch. It improves communication!¡± ¡±I¡¯m noticing.¡± James commented. Paper-And-Words added their digital voice to the conversation. ¡°Repeated testing has shown it isn¡¯t exactly translating, and it works as well with foreign languages as with Chevoy making sounds as if I were strangling her. That is why we are testing now with something that has complex vocabulary. It allows us to make charts and derive ratios.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not a huge amount.¡± Chevoy conceded. Actually, she said a lot more than that, but that was all James could understand. Paper-And-Words hissed a sigh. ¡°You see? She tried to list off numbers. But you hear this. The estimate is that thirty percent of meaning is preserved, if we must put a number on it.¡± The camraconda seemed resigned to the situation. ¡°The couch is actually improving the entire room, not just whomstever is sat upon it. She is merely unwilling to stand up. And also it works better when used by a person. We have not tested it with pets yet.¡± ¡±Chevoy¡­ you need to actually take time to heal.¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°This isn¡¯t okay. People are worried.¡± ¡±I¡¯m fine!¡± Chevoy protested over the course of a full paragraph of gurgled argument that James didn¡¯t catch. ¡°I am resting, I¡¯m on the couch!¡± He didn¡¯t think she was fine. He thought she was an idiot, and this was becoming a pattern of behavior that James wasn¡¯t okay with. Chevoy seemed to get motivated by injuries that would put anyone else on a two week long recovery vacation. And while he appreciated her constant work down here, and in the field, he didn¡¯t really think that humans were supposed to bounce back that quickly. James would know, after all, because he did that all the time. But he didn¡¯t really know what to say to get her to actually go back to the hospital and take a fucking nap. It wasn¡¯t like they had a right to keep her strapped to a bed until her teeth grew back; assuming that was a power she had at all. And Chevoy was making it pretty clear that she¡¯d rather be skipping her painkillers and messing around with dungeontech than actually taking care of herself. ¡±Whatever you are thinking,¡± Paper-And-Words offered with a twisting shake of his camera head, ¡°we already tried telling her, and she won¡¯t leave.¡± ¡±Fine.¡± James settled on, but unhappy about it. ¡°What¡¯s up with the giant vent spider?¡± He might have sounded a little irate asking. Chevoy made a series of muffled exclamations that worked out to either ¡°It helped us out!¡± Or maybe ¡°It¡¯s friend shaped!¡± Or something similar enough. Taking the answer as the best he was going to get, especially seeing the camracondas nodding along, James just sighed again, rubbing at one of his eyes in frustration. ¡°Please figure out if the couch is more useful than it is ugly.¡± He ordered. ¡°And Chevoy, tell Deb where you are in case you have some kind of internal bleeding that she missed.¡± Chevoy made a gauze-muffled protest that sort of kind of meant that she was great at keeping all her blood where it was meant to be. Which was, James knew for a fact, a fucking lie. _____ The main floor of the Lair was usually not as chaotic as any given basement, but it still tended to have a lot going on. Response members got lunch, a trickle of people lined up to get packages or orb payouts from the front desk, Ava¡¯s mom caught her and Hidden trying to sneak out and threatened to feed her to the frogs in the big terrarium setup, the frogs kept on not eating people, and a couple new people interviewing for Recovery positions had to have it explained to them that yes, this was a one floor building, and yes, they had an elevator. Take it up. ¡°I feel as though I¡¯ve been making a grave error.¡± Karen told James when she ambushed him as he waited in the dining area to meet with a couple of his friends. He looked up from his phone where he was playing weird sudoku variants at the older human woman, and instantly felt like he was underdressed compared to the deep blue power suit she was wearing today. Karen had more sartorial prowess than most of the Order put together, and he felt like it was a shame that she mostly used it on ¡®normal¡¯ stuff. James didn¡¯t say that out loud though, instead asking, ¡°Who taught you to talk like a camraconda? Are you secretly Texture-Of-Barkdust today?¡± Karen pursed her lips and took the seat opposite him, sitting with poise in the comfortable dining chair. ¡°Borrowing each other¡¯s mental faculties is only useful when one of us is asleep. I respect Marlea¡¯s boldness very much, but you will not be seeing the two of us as one person anytime soon.¡± ¡±I actually was talking about the table that body swaps people, but sure, that too.¡± James shifted his chair so he could lean back and keep an eye on the main entrance for anyone coming in. ¡°That¡¯s a cool use of the skulljack though!¡± The portion of Karen¡¯s brain that demanded answers to everything all the time wanted to tear into the comment about the body swapping and dig down to why they had that, where it was, and how well protected the object happened to be. But she restrained herself, because she was here to focus on a different problem instead. ¡±Thank you.¡± Karen nodded politely. ¡°Now. Several people just came home severely injured from your latest adventure.¡± James sobered quickly. ¡°Yeah.¡± He sighed. ¡°They did.¡± He turned and looked at the table in the corner where a half dozen striders were carefully building a fort out of the menus they¡¯d been unwittingly given by one of the kids helping out as waitstaff today. ¡°Nothing lethal, though¡­ I guess if we keep doing this, it¡¯s only a matter of time.¡± The thought was grim and he hated it, even if James knew they had to acknowledge the reality. ¡±Yes. Well. I¡¯ve been reconsidering my stance on letting my daughter participate.¡± Karen said, laying one hand over the other as she focused on James. ¡±Two things about that.¡± James replied, glad to have an easy problem to handle. ¡°One, she¡¯s eighteen now, so¡­ you know. Adult things, for better or worse. Two, though, is that I¡¯m not sending your daughter hang gliding off a ledge.¡± He snorted a laugh. ¡°There¡¯s a few new kids who want to get in on this. And they¡¯re getting a lot of hands on and academic training first, but also, they¡¯re not going into any dungeons. They¡¯re barely going camping together until we¡¯re sure they¡¯re ready.¡± ¡±That¡­ somewhat puts me at ease, thank you.¡± Karen was still frowning though. ¡°I think I would have preferred that she choose college, though. Nothing too stressful, just a nice Ivy League school.¡± ¡±I for real cannot tell when you¡¯re joking.¡± James admitted. And while the corner of Karen¡¯s mouth twitched upward, that wasn¡¯t actually an answer. She had been hanging out with camracondas too much, if this was the level of subtle sass that James was going to need to face from their accountant. ¡°But yeah, no delving for Liz. She might end up with an accidental college education anyway though. Oh! That reminds me! Has anyone talked to you about making an accounting skill file?¡± James snapped his fingers and then had to frantically wave away the eager teenager that thought he was summoning a server. Karen shook her head. ¡°Even with the assistant program, I can¡¯t seem to manage it. A few attempts were close, but had too much¡­ oh, what is the term they use? Emotional memory?¡± ¡±Emotional residue?¡± ¡±No, I would remember if it was something that unpleasant.¡± Karen shook her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Apparently my memories are too depressing to use.¡± ¡±¡­do you wanna talk about it?¡± James offered. He wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever extended that offer to Karen before; the woman had grown a lot in her time here, but she still seemed like the kind of person who was used to forcing her feelings into whatever box was most convenient for her to get work done. She took a short and sharp breath. ¡°It would be a lie to say that I feel good about it.¡± Karen admitted. And as she spoke, her voice dipped slightly, and it became much easier for James to see that she was a lot more exhausted than she let on most of the time. ¡°I¡¯m a bona fide American success story, you know. I have worked my way up from a position I was dramatically overqualified for, to eventually be a senior accountant. And still got paid less than every man in my department who¡¯d been doing it five years less than me. I had a family, a house with a white picket fence - a literal white picket fence, my husband liked the joke - I went to PTA meetings and I was respectable.¡± Karen hadn¡¯t really looked away from James while talking, but now her eyes bore into him like weapons. ¡°Can you imagine what it¡¯s like to be normal?¡± She asked. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure how to take that.¡± James laughed it off, deciding not to be offended. ¡°But I get it. The world had a place for you, and you fit that role well.¡± ¡±Exactly.¡± Karen said. ¡°You understand, even if I know it wasn¡¯t the life for you. And then one day it all changed, and I went from signing your paychecks as part of a batch of a hundred to owing you my life and being unemployed. But, I told myself, it wasn¡¯t that bad. The world might change, but I would still be useful. And it was true. I like to think my place here is half something I carved out, and half something that was deeply needed.¡± James nodded like an eager puppy. ¡°I would agree with that!¡± He smiled at her. ¡°Like, it wasn¡¯t frictionless at first, but without you actually helping, we probably would have spent all our money and split up before we found a way to keep this operation running. So thanks?¡± ¡±Yes. Well.¡± Karen couldn¡¯t hide her pride, but it faded soon enough. ¡°And now that I¡¯ve started to see value in how you want the world to look, and I really want to pass on my skills to anyone and everyone¡­ I find that my feelings aren¡¯t normal. That what I thought was just how people were, naturally, is unique to me, and that I¡¯ve been the outsider all along for how much I secretly hate my life. And that no one can stand to feel like me.¡± It impressed the hell out of James that she could say all that without her voice breaking at all. ¡°And now I¡¯m telling you all this, because it seems like that¡¯s another way the world changed around me when I wasn¡¯t looking.¡± She probably didn¡¯t mean it to be a joke, but James chuckled lightly, tilting his hand up on the table to make it clear that he meant no offense. ¡°Okay. So.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure how to even phrase this, so he just dove in. ¡°First off, you should actually talk to one of our therapists. And don¡¯t give me that look. You just described your life like you¡¯ve suffered from depression for the last forty years and didn¡¯t even know. And I get it, that sucks. I¡¯m not saying you need medication, but just having the knowledge and some tools to cope can help a lot. We¡¯ve also got a couple purple orbs that might improve things.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I hadn¡¯t actually realized depression could taint .mem files, and that means I should probably go delete my minor fencing one from our database. But that¡¯s secondary to this.¡± James shifted his chair so he was facing Karen directly, as a peer and nothing else. ¡°What you do for us is less valuable than having you here in the Order. If our accounting is just a thing you¡¯re forcing yourself to do because of¡­ because of anything, really¡­ then just say the word. We can hire an accountant. Hell, Cathy and Barkdust could do it. I might be able to do it, I did actually go to college for something like this. Karen, the Order is here for you, not the other way around. You can do whatever you want and we¡¯ll make it work.¡± ¡±What if what I want is to keep your engineering team from overspending on incredibly hard to source materials to build a space elevator out of?¡± Karen challenged him. ¡±Literally no one wants to do that. We just have to, for the greater good.¡± James countered. ¡°Also I still haven¡¯t gotten a good answer from Mars or Mike about what they plan to do with the space elevator once we have it.¡± He and Karen both pressed fingers into the left side of their foreheads at the same time in mutual exasperation. ¡°I mean, I know a space elevator is both cool and immensely valuable. But what are we going to use it for? Asteroid mining? Building space habitats? Do we just sell it to Japan for an infinite number of dollars?¡± ¡±I had hoped you would have those answers before I asked those questions.¡± Karen sighed. James groaned. ¡°Alright. Well. We¡¯ll¡­ figure that out. My point is, we can figure it out without you. You can always take time to explore what you actually want to do. Go join the basement pottery club, or get in on running the youth group, or just relax and watch everything cool on Netflix for the next year. Did you know they made a Castlevania animated series, and it¡¯s actually pretty good?¡± James could see that she neither knew, nor cared, so he just smiled and abandoned that path of inquiry. ¡°Point is, you don¡¯t need to do anything. So do what you want. And we¡¯ll work around it.¡± ¡±You are far too accommodating.¡± Karen accused him. ¡±Yeah! And everyone is happier for it!¡± James riposted. ¡°You think the Order is full of special people? It is, but here¡¯s the secret you probably already noticed; most of the people here weren¡¯t really that driven. Simon was a bike courier, now he¡¯s responsible for saving lives every day. Momo, Reed, and John all worked in a call center because they had to or they¡¯d fucking starve to death, and now they figure out how our magic works so we can reshape humanity. El was just some asshole, and now she¡¯s a teacher. I was¡­ You already know the non-secret, and now I¡¯m telling you it applies to you too.¡± ¡±¡­if you let people do what they want, it seems they tend to be more motivated.¡± Karen admitted, like it was pulling teeth to concede that point. ¡±Exactly.¡± James nodded. ¡°And you know what? Some people check out, or leave, or just get high and watch Animal Planet all the time. Which, by the way, I recommend trying sometime; it¡¯s not an everyday activity, but whales are awesome.¡± He raised his eyebrows and Karen absolutely did not rise to the bait, so James just continued. ¡°If you meet people¡¯s base needs¡­ well, look around. A lot of people want to help keep that going. Enough people. Enough that you can go learn guitar or take a vacation or whatever.¡± Karen waved him off. ¡±Yes, yes, I take your meaning.¡± She said bluntly, before softening slightly. ¡°I will¡­ consider it.¡± ¡±And a therapist.¡± ¡±I will consider it.¡± She repeated, though possibly a little more deceptively. ¡°Thank you for your time. I need to get back to work.¡± ¡±And I need to as well.¡± James sat up straight as he saw Anesh coming in along with a couple people helping him carry a small crate. ¡°Paladin stuff, you know?¡± He gave Karen a polite nod, and she excused herself. And then Anesh arrived, and James got down to the very important business of testing a lot of orbs for potential in copying. Paladin business. Because his job now was, actually, to do what others couldn¡¯t. To be as strong as possible in every way he could manage, so he could share that strength as best he could. And that meant orbs. And notes on the orbs. And tests on his body¡¯s changes after the orbs. And James felt like Anesh¡¯s estimate that this would take an hour or so was a bit of a lie as his boyfriend had his helpers place the heavy plastic crate near their table and started setting up to record. ¡±I was gonna try to get Arrush to go on a lunch date with me¡­¡± James wondered if it was too late to bail on this today, and remain slightly more mundane for a few hours. ¡±That¡¯s very cute. I hope you have fun on your dinner date.¡± His boyfriend shattered that hope, casually reaching into James¡¯ pocket as he walked by and stealing his telepad. ¡±¡­I love you?¡± James tried. ¡±I love you too! Now, let¡¯s get you some purples.¡± Anesh let the plea for help wash over him like waves on the rocks, and let James¡¯ hope recede like the tide. James sighed. Maybe if he went fast, this could be over quickly. _____ [Shell Upgraded : Hair Growth Speed - Torso, +.1 cm/week] ¡±Hate that.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +2 Teeth - Canines] ¡±Ow, but also¡­ okay, weirdly fine. Actually kinda smooth, and there¡¯s a weird gap I can fidget with my tongue with. Maybe get this to Chevoy for the obvious reason.¡± [Shell Upgraded : -1 Ingrown Hair / Month] ¡±Sure.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +5% Radiation Absorbed] ¡±¡­ssssssure.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Muscle Density - Calves - +8 mg/cm^3] ¡±Nice. Put that on the potential standard list.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Blood - Production - Red - +1.2 cups/week] ¡±Minor, but useful. Yes, especially with how often I get cut, thanks Anesh. Next?¡± [Shell Upgraded : Surface Temperature Control - +/- 2.4¡ã Fahrenheit] ¡±Cool. Yes, pun intended.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +3% Limb Regrowth - Toe / Month] ¡±I feel a bit bad that we gave Theo the super powered limb orb before we could copy it, and now all I get is slightly more toes. For certain definitions of ¡®more¡¯.¡± [Shell Upgraded : -3% Telomere Decay / Year] ¡±¡­I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± James had to pause for that one to breathe and compose himself. ¡°You know I¡¯m terrified of dying, right? Do you know what this is? Anesh this is the fountain of youth in a ball. Unless it¡¯s proportional and not absolute, which seems likely, but it¡¯s still¡­ this would keep a human alive for¡­ quick math¡­ forty, fifty years longer than normal? No, that¡¯s not even true, is it! Because for those forty or fifty years, this thing keeps working!¡± James was raising his voice now. ¡°You know I was talking to Karen before you showed up, and I think she thinks she¡¯s too old to get into anything new? Well not anymore. We¡¯re going to live for a very long time, and I can¡¯t wait to share it with you all.¡± And then the moment of a perfect loving dramatic outpouring had to end. ¡°Right. Okay. Mandatory list. Potentially for mass distribution. Next orb. Let¡¯s keep going.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Comfortable Resting Posture - +/- 1¡ã] ¡±¡­Wow that¡¯s some whiplash.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Dexterity - Manual - Sinestral - +18 Complex Actions/Month] [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Determination] ¡±That one had a red mixed in.¡± James commented, holding up his left hand and trying to figure out what exactly had changed. ¡°Which might be the best part of it.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Cellular Recycling, 1,200/hour] ¡±I¡¯m not even sure what that means exactly, or if that number is high enough to matter. Can you check with Deb while we keep going?¡± [Shell Upgraded : Sensory Range - Pressure - +2 mm] ¡±It¡¯s not, huh? Oh, this one isn¡¯t really anything either, I don¡¯t think.¡± [Shell Upgraded : -15% Refractory Period] ¡±Oh good! Hey Anesh, we can test- ow! No, it¡¯s for science!¡± [Shell Upgraded : Time to Organ Failure, +37 Seconds] ¡±That¡¯s so vaguely worded and also now a mandatory part of any combat kit. Two of them per person, no exceptions.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +3c Temperature Tolerance] ¡°More generally good stuff. Priority list.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +1% Nerve Sensitivity - Elbow - Right] ¡±And that one¡¯s not.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Surface Injury - Time To Scab - -3 Minutes Maximum] ¡±Wow that¡¯s almost telling us how it actually works. That¡¯s novel! Anesh, write that down!¡± [Shell Upgraded : +20% Salt Tolerance] ¡±And we¡¯re back to cryptic bullshit.¡± [Shell Upgraded : -1 Broken Bones - Spine / year] ¡±Put it on the list. Also I need you to know I¡¯m repeating the formatting exactly. Has anyone figured out if the different ways the purples phrase things means anything yet? No? Great.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +610 Watts Electrical Generation - Resting] ¡±I don¡¯t¡­ know what to¡­ do with this one. I can kinda feel it, but that might be a placebo? What a weird orb. I kinda wonder if it combos with the one that let¡¯s me taser people with my hands, but it¡¯s not like testing that is a good idea. Actually, Anesh! Are you into- ow! Alright, fine, I¡¯ll ask later!¡± [Shell Upgraded : Organ Efficiency - Spleen - +5%] ¡±Neat. Low priority. Next.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Nerve Errors, -3/week] ¡°Neat? Less itching I guess? Next.¡± [Shell Upgraded : LD50 - Sarin Nerve Gas - +20 mg/cm^3] ¡±¡­N-neat? Terrifying, but okay, sure. Next.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Injury Healing Time - Skin - Abrasion - -4 hours] ¡±Excellent. General usefulness, put that in rotation.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Vocal Range, +1 Octave] [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Ennui] ¡±Might be helpful for someone that¡¯s not me, but it¡¯s cool that I have the opinion now. Oh, also more ennui. Hooray.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Lung Capacity - +1 liter^3] ¡±Good for anyone focused on Climb spells. Which includes me now, I guess.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Writing Speed - +30 words/minute] ¡±¡­You know, sometimes, I think we¡¯re getting a handle on what purple orbs can do, and then they do something like this shit. What, exactly, is this changing about my body? Like, writing is such a complex process. Is it making my fingers more nimble? Is it making my brain go faster? Does it just help with hand cramps and this is an average number? I hate this. This is like the one that lets me jump higher that stops making my legs stronger if I¡¯m not jumping. It¡¯s so fucking dumb. You know what, I changed my mind. Let¡¯s Cask of Amontillado the Office and go live on the Climb where all the magic at least feels like magic.¡± [Shell Upgraded : -3 Pronunciation Errors / Day] ¡±This is the exact same bullshit! It¡¯s just¡­ objectively more useful, and so I¡¯ll stop yelling. For now.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Healing Time - Scab - -3 hours] [+1 Skill Rank : Music - Instrument - Harmonica] ¡±Useful. Not earthshaking.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Mucus Function +19%] ¡°I¡¯m gonna refrain from saying that¡¯s gross, because knowing how the human body works, that is very helpful for staying in good health. Make a note for when Spire-Cast-Behind tests these on the camraconda side, cause I wanna know what they have in place of mucus.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Range of Motion - Eyeball - +1¡ã] ¡±I feel like some of these are being intentionally stifled. Also hang on.¡± James tested it, flicking his eyes as far to the side as they could go. ¡°Okay, yeah, my brain just filters out the extra black space. It¡¯s not actually improved vision radius. Next.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +855 Newtons Joint Rotational Force - Shoulder] ¡±Well, it¡¯s both shoulders, so that¡¯s good.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Keratin Growth - Toenail - +4 mm/week] ¡±Okay now that¡¯s just not helpful at all. That¡¯s actively annoying.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Maximum Reactable Speed - Sprint - +3 MPH] ¡±Now that is a good one. Let¡¯s do some quick checks, but I think that¡¯s a winner for a good basic upgrade.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +8 Months Lifespan] ¡±The other one already made me cry over this, but if it hadn¡¯t, this would get me. This one is less for everyone right now, but still so valuable since we can copy it.¡± [Shell Upgraded : +3% Durability] ¡±¡­Okay. Yeah. Okay! I like this one, this is what I keep expecting from the purples. Vague but probably still useful. Wait, what do you mean we have to test it? Anesh I was going to go on a daaaaate. This is already taking forever, how many more orbs are there?¡± [Shell Upgraded : Hair Follicle Control - +/- 30% Maximum Functionality] ¡±Well this offsets the thing that turns me into a Sasquatch at least. I hope. Give me a second to see how much focus it takes to force my body to stop growing most hair.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Flexibility - Bone - Rib - +6mm] ¡±That¡¯s a good one. Maybe not for every kit, but still good. Wait. Ribs, or singular rib?¡± [Shell Upgraded : +1.5 mbps Throughput] ¡°Hm. Mark that one for a secondary test on someone without a skulljack.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Internal Damage Threshold - Gamma Ray Exposure - +120 mSv] ¡°If this ever comes up, I will be shocked. Also is that a lot? That¡¯s a lot? Okay, well, that¡¯s good I guess.¡± [Shell Upgraded : -3 Pints Blood Loss / Year] ¡°That might count as a repeat but it definitely counts as useful.¡± [Shell Upgraded : Secondary Thought Process - Locational Checking - 20% Maximum Functionality (Additive)] And then they had to pause testing for a little while as James had to take some time to acclimate himself to suddenly having an extra mind. It involved a bit of screaming, which made Anesh think that maybe they shouldn¡¯t have done this in the middle of the dining room. But his boyfriend recovered pretty quickly once his assistant tracked down where Zhu was and had the navigator pour back into James, taking point on directing the new sub-mind that was causing some focus problems. James said that eventually he would have gotten used to it, and then made an absolutely terrifying claim that he¡¯d had to go through this kind of thing with some purple effects before. But Zhu nestled into the space like he¡¯d just been giving a penthouse apartment, and promptly put things right. Just before James passed out. An occurrence that was becoming a little too common. Anesh stopped their testing there for the day. They¡¯d get to the rest of them in ones and twos with other people. His boyfriend could pick up the ones that were useful for a paladin later. Maybe he didn¡¯t need to try all of them himself. Chapter 271 ¡°The missile is very tired. He is eepy. The missile has had a very long day of splashing bandits and wants to take just a smol sleeb. He eeby and neebies to sleeby. Mibsile sleepy and need bed-bye time. The missile is currently experiencing critical levels of being a sleevjy little guy and needs to go to bedb. Look at him go!¡± -Dos Bueno (YouTube), the missile is eepy- _____ ¡°How¡¯s the head feel?¡± Alanna¡¯s voice was the first thing James heard when he opened his eyes. He instantly regretted the eye opening. The lights overhead were painfully bright, and he hated them, though maybe he was just a little biased because he was lying on the floor of the Lair¡¯s dining area and not in a bed. Normally when this kind of thing happened he woke up in a bed. But also, normally, he had to open his eyes to know where he was. This time, he just kind of instinctively was aware of where he¡¯d fallen over, and that he hadn¡¯t been moved. Before James could answer, Zhu intercepted. ¡°The head feels excellent thank you!¡± He said with a revving vibrancy to his voice. ¡±Zhu you can¡¯t say things like that to Alanna.¡± James groaned out as his girlfriend stared down at him and the enfolding orange feathers of his navigator friend with a cheeky grin on her face. ¡°Also I¡¯m fine.¡± He lied, before shifting a little and realizing that his head didn¡¯t actually hurt. ¡°Wait, I am fine. That¡¯s new.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± Alanna laughed right at him. ¡°So every time you say you¡¯re fine, normally¡­?¡± ¡±Oh, lying out my ass.¡± James confirmed with a nod that blissfully didn¡¯t hurt his brain as he moved. ¡°Wow, how long was I out?¡± ¡±About two minutes.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice said from the table overhead. He was awfully calm for someone who had just orbed his boyfriend into unconsciousness two minutes ago. ¡°Zhu, you¡¯re sure he¡¯s okay?¡± Ah, James realized that was why he didn¡¯t sound worried at all. There were advantages to sharing your brain with someone else who could tell people how badly you were concussed. Zhu fluttered his feathers, his manifestation back to being like an avian coat as he rejoined James and could make more complex shapes again. ¡°I can¡¯t really tell how he feels, but he thinks he¡¯s okay.¡± ¡±Well that¡¯s a weird sentence.¡± Alanna said as she swung her arms to propel herself out of the crouch she was in as she lurked over the duo on the floor. Offering a hand to James, she grabbed his arm when he raised his own limb, and with Zhu¡¯s hand bracing between them, hauled him up to his feet. Maybe it was his Endurance or Energy stats pushing the damage away or giving him an extra jolt of stamina to tap into. Maybe it was that he¡¯d had a whole night of sleep in a real bed and his body was rewarding him for not subsisting with naps on a hard floor. Either way, James felt alright as he stretched out. Still sore where he¡¯d been shot, and a little itchy in all his other scars too. And more weighed down than normal by Zhu, the navigator¡¯s growth not having gone unnoticed by James; he had added a layer of flat orange feathers across James¡¯ torso, and the flat feathered tail behind them was now twice as wide. He was also just¡­ slightly more. Heavier. Denser. ¡±This is nice.¡± Zhu said. ¡°It didn¡¯t fix anything¡­¡± he clenched his talons as he reminded them about the Underburbs infection, ¡°but I feel like I have a lot more to work with. I¡¯m not borrowing parts of your brain you need anymore.¡± ¡±That¡¯s a worrying sentence all on its own.¡± Anesh said as he carefully watched his partner. ¡°But I suppose we already knew that infomorphs share the physical brain, and Planner¡¯s already wandering through my dreams, so who am I to complain.¡± ¡±I give you permission to date Planner!¡± Alanna exclaimed, drawing attention from some of the nearby people who were using this entirely public dining area for the bizarre function of dining. Anesh just gave her a bemused look. ¡°Planner is asexual at least.¡± ¡±They could want a romantic candlelit dinner¡­¡± Alanna crossed her arms, for some reason determining that this was a hill she was prepared to defend. ¡±I think they¡¯d find that to be a distraction.¡± Anesh pointed out. Alanna gave up her hill. ¡°Fine, fine. It¡¯s just an open offer anyway. You can date anyone.¡± Looking back at where he was finishing up making backup records of all the purple orbs James had used, Anesh nodded appreciatively. ¡°So I¡¯ve been made aware.¡± He smiled. ¡°James knows too.¡± ¡±It¡¯s true, I was going to go ask Arrush out.¡± James confirmed, a little surprised to find that saying it out loud, even to the people he was closest to, still made him feel a little embarrassed. ¡°And since I was only dead for a minute¡­¡± ¡±You have weird priorities.¡± Alanna told him with a laugh. ¡°Actually, you have great priorities. Hey Anesh, wanna go on a date after my Response shift is up?¡± ¡±Yes, but also, we just went on a date¡­ two¡­ weeks¡­ ago.¡± Anesh cleared his throat awkwardly. ¡°Okay, I will admit, maybe we¡¯ve had some odd priorities.¡± Alanna gave a casual shrug, unbothered by the gap of time. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not complaining. Also we did go out as a big group a week ago! I liked that! And I¡¯ll bully you if I feel like we¡¯re actually neglecting each other or some shit. I just want to go try that vegan pizza place and I don¡¯t think James will be into that.¡± ¡±¡­I would totally be into that.¡± James whispered to Zhu. ¡°I don¡¯t know why she thinks otherwise.¡± The navigator whispered back in a conspiratorial voice like radio static. ¡±You do eat a lot of hamburgers. It¡¯s actually impressive you don¡¯t gain weight.¡± ¡±I jog.¡± James grinned as his partners kept making plans for a date night without him. He raised his voice slightly to get their attention. ¡°Hey, Anesh, do you want me to finish up with the purples and stuff?¡± His boyfriend looked away from staring with open love at Alanna¡¯s face, his brain only taking a split second to switch tracks. ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯ll test them on someone else who¡¯s had less of a hard time lately and deserves one. Though! I had one last thing, since you seem to be okay and Zhu is occupying your new thoughts.¡± He pulled a pair of small rough metal gears out of the box he¡¯d brought, and set them on the table. ¡°Now here¡¯s something interesting about these.¡± Anesh started to say. ¡±Oooh, they glow.¡± Zhu interrupted, the wide eye that now took up most of James¡¯ right shoulder expanding as he focused on the pieces of grey steel that absolutely weren¡¯t glowing for anyone else. ¡±¡­Okay, good to know.¡± Anesh had already added that to the notes document by the time he started responding to the navigator. ¡°Anyway. Glowing or not, these are two of the smallest gear that got found in Route Horizon, and they¡¯re copies of each other.¡± Anesh pushed them over toward James. ¡°I know Velocity capacity has been kind of the problem with most of the spells we have from there. And this probably won¡¯t help much. Most people can¡¯t actually absorb the copy, though some can.¡± James took that as a challenge, and picked up the first gear. Letting the rough edges scrape against the skin of his fingers as Zhu peeled his talons away to give him space. James barely remembered the one time he¡¯d done this, but he did have a vague idea. The right mindset, of motion and machinery. The turning of the wheels and the roar of the engine. Everything else made secondary to the yearning for motion and force. It took him six seconds for the gear to vanish from his grip, with only a tiny moment where it was crumbling powered steel before it was gone entirely. And inside him, the hollow space that he stored Velocity in and always forgot to keep topped off because he teleported or walked everywhere these days, that space got slightly larger. James found himself able to store seven units of Velocity now. A single point, from the smallest gear, but it was progress, and he gave a hungry grin to the simple feeling of leveraging their community of delvers into a shared upgrade for a wide range of people. The grin might also have been because he still had a second gear from his portion to upgrade to eight, and that was exciting too. Which made it incredibly frustrating when it took James five minutes of staring at a piece of what looked like simple steel but felt like a metal hummingbird and smelled like an air freshener to realize that he just¡­ couldn¡¯t do it again. There was something in the way, in his mind. ¡°Wow.¡± He said out loud, interrupting Anesh and Alanna making out, an event that he hadn¡¯t noticed starting as he had been busy glaring at an inanimate object. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ really annoying.¡± ¡±I¡¯ll put you in the list of ¡®no duplicates¡¯.¡± Anesh said. ¡±Yeah. Alright, well hey, Zhu, you want to try-¡° ¡±Yes!¡± The navigator settled his taloned hand over James¡¯ palm, ghostly feathered arm pressing into James¡¯ own limb and sinking into him slightly. ¡°I never get dungeon magic!¡± James snorted. ¡°That¡¯s such bullshit, you got two dozen yellow orbs, an absorbed blue I can see inside you, and you got that one purple that lets you glow brighter.¡± He reached through his skulljack braid, looking for the spreadsheet that would tell him exactly how much Zhu was lying, but even at the speed of thought he wasn¡¯t quick enough before the navigator had absorbed the gear. ¡°Wow, that was even faster than me.¡± He said, clearly proud of Zhu for the impressive act. ¡°Actually, Anesh, do you have¡­¡± ¡±I have two more, because we already planned for Zhu to try.¡± Anesh handed over another small gear. ¡°Though I assume that¡­¡± He didn¡¯t get through the sentence before Zhu had slid a talon into the center of the gear, spun it twice, then clutched it into powder. ¡°¡­huh.¡± ¡±This is easy!¡± Zhu said. ¡°Can I try again? Please?¡± ¡±He¡¯s gonna catch up to me.¡± James laughed as Zhu ate the third gear with no problem, bringing the navigator up to three total Velocity before he found that he couldn¡¯t get a fourth copy down. ¡°Actually, hey, Anesh, you¡¯re headed downstairs after this, right? Can you take Zhu to get some of the map scraps?¡± Zhu agreed eagerly. ¡±Yes! I need spells to test this on, and also don¡¯t want to be on James¡¯ date as a weird extra person! Is there a term for that? You three would probably know. Someone that isn¡¯t there for romance.¡± ¡±Is he¡­¡± Alanna coughed out a laugh, ¡°Zhu are you fucking with us?¡± ¡±No?¡± ¡±Cool. I¡¯m going to my shift.¡± She laughed, brushing orange feathers aside to lean in and kiss James before leaving. ¡°Have fun boys!¡± Alanna told them as she walked off, pausing briefly only to talk to a few other Responders at one of the tables near the door and steal some of their shared charcuterie. James and Anesh watched her go for a minute, partly because her abrupt exit allowed for a quiet moment between the two, and also partly because they both liked how Alanna looked when she did that casual stroll of a walk that she used when she felt like the world couldn¡¯t possibly slow her down. ¡°Okay. Zhu, come on over.¡± Anesh said as he finished up the notes he was taking and spreading through the Order¡¯s servers. He held out his arm, unnecessarily, to let the growing navigator flow from James to him, feathers with an opalescent sheen underneath the orange sprouting across his neck and arms and an eye manifesting on the side of Anesh¡¯s neck. ¡±Hmm. Interesting.¡± Zhu commented as he settled into James¡¯ boyfriend. ¡°I never thought about this before, but I¡¯m¡­ being thought by all three of you, aren¡¯t I? I¡¯m not on James right now, but I can still feel the growth from his new thoughts.¡± ¡±Well, that does rather make it certain that navigators and assignments can spread in the same way. And you¡¯re certainly heavier now.¡± Anesh stood up, shifting as he found his new balance and closing up his box of magic. ¡°James, I¡¯ll see you tonight, yeah?¡± The two hugged briefly before breaking off, Anesh heading down to store the extra stuff in the vault. ¡°Let¡¯s go get you some spells so you don¡¯t have to be a third wheel.¡± Zhu rumbled like tires on packed gravel. ¡±Third wheel! That¡¯s a great phrase! Did you make that up?¡± James heard his friend asking Anesh before they turned the corner at the end of the hall. _____ James got intercepted by Nate when he was getting on the elevator down to the basement they had an apartment complex in. There were a few other people, a skinny ratroach and a thick camraconda working together to haul a tall cardboard box, and a pair of younger humans gossiping a little too loudly about their classmates. Nate interposed himself between James and the elevator door just as it was closing, making the space deeply uncomfortable. No one liked having someone stare at them while on an elevator; it was common courtesy that you avoided eye contact and spoke as little as possible. Not that Nate gave a single flying fuck about courtesy. ¡°I need to talk to you about your newest stray.¡± He told James bluntly, silencing the other conversations as everyone paused to see if he was talking to them. ¡°I feel like you¡¯ve worked here long enough and we¡¯re on good enough terms that I can tell you that¡¯s a stupid fucking thing to say.¡± James stated casually, getting a shocked snicker from the teenagers and a slight deepening of Nate¡¯s glower. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to at least try to narrow it down. Do you mean the Status Quo prisoners who are still with us? The five guys from the powerplant that are staying on as delvers or maybe Response? The dozen new ratroaches in isolation? The two new camracondas in-¡° ¡±Stop.¡± Nate crossed his thick arms and flicked his eyes at the others in the elevator. ¡°Not here.¡± ¡±You¡¯re getting another fifteen seconds of me listing off rescues then.¡± James said defiantly. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ no new friend shaped friends from the Climb that I know of. There¡¯s Cam, I guess. Oh, the strider and its clone who came back with us, and also a bunch of iLipedes. One of them has a food delivery app that we think teleports food, or maybe straight up creates it from nothing. There¡¯s-¡± The elevator doors dinged open and Nate backpedaled, waiting for James to join him and break away from the others. ¡±I wished to know about the iLipedes¡­¡± the camraconda said in an almost morose digital tone. ¡±Check with Juan, I think!¡± James called back as he followed Nate off to a side passage and away from the foot traffic that the basement had more of these days. It wasn¡¯t crowded, but it was something they needed to be aware of as they kept growing. ¡°Okay. So it¡¯s Cam?¡± James wasn¡¯t his partner; he couldn¡¯t read auras or whatever Alanna did with her Empathy. But he had a good chunk of social perception skills now, and he¡¯d noticed Nate¡¯s tiny reaction when he¡¯d said Camille¡¯s name. Nate gave a single shape nod. ¡°She told you what she is yet?¡± ¡±It didn¡¯t come up.¡± James hadn¡¯t asked. He was curious, because he was always curious, and he wanted to know everything about every magic ever. But the only actually important things when it came to other people, magic or not, was if they were doing alright and could be trusted. ¡°I know she¡¯s one of Lloyd¡¯s¡­ ¡®daughters¡¯. Eugh.¡± Even saying that felt gross to him. The conversation paused as Nate waited for a lost looking ratroach to scurry by. James wanted to help, but they were headed for the elevator, and someone would be able to help them in a second. It seemed like Nate was really focused on this one thing. ¡±Just so you know, she¡¯s not human.¡± Nate said in a low tone, just for James to hear. ¡±Kay.¡± James wasn¡¯t actually sure if Nate thought that was a bad thing. ¡°Did she tell you that?¡± ¡±We¡¯ve talked. She¡¯s open about anything, but she doesn¡¯t know where she or her sisters come from. And then I saw her medical file.¡± James frowned. ¡°Are you even supposed to be able to see that?¡± ¡±Her blood isn¡¯t human. Medical isn¡¯t even sure if she has DNA.¡± Nate blazed past James¡¯ concern. ¡°I¡¯m telling you this for two reasons. One, Lloyd can make more of them. Not a lot, not at a high rate, but in a year he could have a platoon of these things. And the armor is partly for show. Her body doesn¡¯t obey physics, and she¡¯s very bulletproof.¡± ¡±That is worth worrying about. We don¡¯t actually know if Lloyd is going to be mad at us. What¡¯s reason two?¡± ¡±Figured you¡¯d want to know for your love life.¡± Nate said, meeting James¡¯ eyes in a steady stare. That held for about ten seconds before James cracked, and Nate dropped his facade, giving a small smug grin. ¡°Wow, that got me. Yeah, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll¡­ actually, no, fuck off, you don¡¯t need to know who I¡¯m dating.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Okay. I don¡¯t think I need to know this. If someone is actively infiltrating us, tell me. But if someone¡¯s species is the only weird point-¡° ¡±That¡¯s not even fucking close to the only weird point with that lady.¡± Nate countered. ¡°We¡¯re trying to fold her into rogue operations, and she¡¯s planning ops like she¡¯s CIA trained.¡± ¡±Okay terrifying. But I¡¯m serious. I don¡¯t care if she¡¯s human or not. Do you? Half your kitchen staff aren¡¯t human. Also stop doing two jobs.¡± James felt like he had a million problems all coming to the fore all at once. Nate brushed off most of them. ¡°I care that she¡¯s hiding something.¡± ¡±Did you ask her if she¡¯s human?¡± ¡±¡­No.¡± ¡±Ask her if she¡¯s human.¡± James sighed and stepped away from the wall, looking up and down the well lit and cleaned up corridor as he oriented himself. ¡°I¡¯ve got stuff to do tonight. And I¡¯m betting you do too.¡± Nate grumbled something as James left, raising his voice to call out after the retreating paladin. ¡°There¡¯s dungeontech integration training tomorrow!¡± ¡±I know! Goodbye Nate!¡± Came the reply yell, startling the people near James as he passed the elevator. _____ The door in front of James was a normal front door. Good, solid, and way too close to the doors on either side. One of the perks of having an apartment building where space was overlapped with itself was that it wasn¡¯t actually a longer walk than normal to get to any given apartment. Sure, there were more of them, but you weren¡¯t walking past the whole sixty feet of a living space; only the five or so of the door that led to it. There was a wobbly little handmade clay pot with a bunch of glass beads in it sitting on the ground to the right of the door. A thing that James thought was supposed to be a sculpture of a frog sitting on top of it. It was simple and flawed and it made the space feel like the most precious home ever. Also for some reason the door made James exceptionally nervous. ¡±I¡¯ve asked people out on dates before.¡± He grumbled to himself. ¡°Right? I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve¡­¡± James trailed off as he made a grim realization. He went on dates with people he was dating. His romantic experience pre-Anesh-and-Alanna was basically nothing, and every time he told someone he was interested in them, it was while he was getting shot at. ¡±Oh my god.¡± James exhaled to no particular deity. ¡°How have I made it this far in life.¡± The question was rhetorical. But it was the perfect little bit of humor to bury his anxiety in and make knocking on the door easier. The door to Arrush and Keeka¡¯s apartment cracked open almost the instant after James¡¯ knuckles made contact the first time, causing the people on both sides of the barrier to jump in alarm. The human with a hiss of air, the ratroach with a startled squeal and the first moves of shifting into a fighting stance. Arrush stopped himself before he lashed out at James. Not just because it was James, but because it could have been anyone, and even if he needed to constantly remind himself, he was still determined to stop accidentally hurting anyone. It had been a while since he¡¯d reflexively clawed someone, and he wanted to keep that record building. ¡°Hi!¡± James said, covering his racing heart with a cheerful raised hand. ¡°Good timing! Wanna go get dinner?¡± It was a lot easier to ask when you were already recovering from being jump scared. ¡°Wh-why?¡± Arrush asked, recovering admirably and wiping the line of blue glow from his chin, all seven eyes moving just a little out of sync to focus on James¡¯ face. ¡°Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?¡± The mild panic in Arrush¡¯s tone worried James. ¡±¡­No?¡± He stepped back, giving the big ratroach space. ¡°Are you doing alright?¡± He asked in a lowered voice. ¡°S-sorry.¡± Arrush stammered, moving to step back into his apartment. ¡±I¡­ uh¡­ I wasn¡¯t prepared for this.¡± James muttered. ¡°I¡¯m actually asking! You seem like you¡¯re having a bad day. Is there anything I can do to help?¡± He¡¯d been sorta roughly planning on a date of some kind, but if James had learned anything about being a paladin, it was that plans didn¡¯t last, and adaptability was better. Arrush froze, door partly closed, and took a series of breaths like he was panting. Grinding his fangs against each other, he looked up, and gave James a quick nod that dripped a single bit of corrosive drool onto the carpet. ¡°I am¡­ I am¡­ haaah.¡± He forced himself to breathe everything his modified lungs had out, and then tried again. ¡°Supposed to be going to an appointment. Don¡¯t know why it¡¯s¡­ this. Doing this. I don¡¯t like it.¡± Pursing his lips, James gave an understanding nod. ¡°That sounds like anxiety. ¡° He said sadly. ¡°Well, want me to come along? I dunno if I can help much, but-¡° ¡±Yes!¡± Arrush threw himself onto the offer. ¡°I mean¡­ I would like¡­ that?¡± ¡°Alright.¡± James easily nodded. ¡°Were you heading out now?¡± Arrush gave what felt like a sheepish look at the ground, before he nodded back. ¡°Lead the way.¡± He stepped back, and gestured stylishly, opening the way for his friend to escape his apartment. Arrush started to walk down the surprisingly short hall to the exit into the garden courtyard, and James fell in beside him. Even covered by a thick black hoodie, the way Arrush¡¯s shoulders were pulled tight and his extra arms were tightly clutched against his side and back was obvious. He was tense, looking more like how James remembered him being when he and Keeka first arrived here than was probably healthy. As they walked, a pair of younger kids James didn¡¯t actually recognize ran by. They couldn¡¯t possibly be teenagers, but they were laughing as they scrambled past and bolted into the apartment next to Arrush¡¯s, not even sparing a glance for the ratroach as they went by. James tried to think of how many actual human children were here, and couldn¡¯t quite come up with a number. There was Ava, who was currently grounded for the rest of her life, and¡­ And he ran out of names. Liz and Morgan were ¡®kids¡¯, but they were, what, eighteen or nineteen now? Someone else must have moved in that had children. There was an open offer to most of the Order, since they had spare apartments and could always make more. Or maybe it was the family of someone who¡¯d survived one of the many crises, it could even just be a family that was temporarily displaced from the Yamhill fires. It was still kinda cool to see people just utterly fail to even flinch at Arrush¡¯s form. It made James feel proud of them, in a way that he worried might be self aggrandizing, but also that he still did think was critically important to building the future. Arrush didn¡¯t say anything as he guided them out of the apartments, through the bamboo and fern park that the basement had been transformed into, and up a flight of stairs to a different, slightly less deep basement. This basement was familiar to James. ¡°So¡­ where are we going?¡± He asked as the mostly calm halls of the basement they¡¯d taken over for residential and community affairs were replaced by the utter unhinged madness of whatever Research was doing in their halls. ¡±I¡¯m supposed to talk to someone.¡± Arrush said cryptically, eyes flicking across every human, camraconda, and stray iLipede that was walking, slithering, or crawling on the walls past them. ¡°About¡­ahhhhh¡­¡± his voice cracked in a pained whine as he started hyperventilating again. James gently set a hand on the back of Arrush¡¯s hoodie, fingers spread out as he tested how much pressure was comfortable for his friend. ¡°Hey.¡± He said as Arrush faltered but kept walking. ¡°I¡¯m not-¡° ¡±No, no. No. Fine. I¡¯m fine.¡± Arrush coughed as he forced the insistence onto himself. ¡°I am fine. And am going to talk about changing.¡± ¡±Change¡­ oh!¡± James tried to offer a comforting smile. ¡°That sounds terrifying, but also cool, but also like a huge change, so I get why you¡¯re having trouble.¡± He said simply, letting his hand drop, before having his fingers caught by one of Arrush¡¯s claws. James didn¡¯t resist, letting the ratroach clutch at his hand as they kept walking through the magically extended hallways of the Research basement. ¡°Out of curiosity, why not bring Keeka along?¡± ¡±It makes him nervous too.¡± Arrush said. ¡°If I asked¡­ if I asked he would say yes. But then I would worry about him. I can worry about myself, but worrying about him hurts.¡± Nodding sadly, James adjusted his fingers, interweaving them with Arrush¡¯s claws before realizing he was holding one of the ratroach¡¯s extra limbs in a way that made it effortless to walk alongside each other. Having bonus arms with that level of flexibility really was handy, even if they weren¡¯t exactly stable. He didn¡¯t really know what else to say, and felt like just talking for the sake of filling silence was a dumb idea. Especially since the loud clang from somewhere within the basement that made both of them jump did an excellent job of filling the silence itself. James listened closely, but didn¡¯t hear anyone swearing or dying afterward, so it was¡­ probably fine. Eventually they ended up at a warm wooden door flanked by frosted glass windows, which James opened for Arrush and held for a minute as the ratroach caught his breath. James had been here before, kind of often. There were a few private rooms branching off of this little space, possibly the result of a green orb, and the few people who worked as therapists of different specialties for the Order made this place their own. Definitely of green orb origin was the fact that there was an open window letting late afternoon sunlight and warm air in. Something that would have been weird for the front room even if they weren¡¯t in a basement. There wasn¡¯t even a wait. Deb and Lua were waiting for them as they entered. Well, waiting for Arrush. But the fact that the big guy was insistently holding onto James¡¯ hand meant that he got towed into the pleasantly cozy room and had a seat at the round table. ¡±So!¡± Lua began, and James recognized the kind of powerfully projected good vibes that Sarah tended to use all the time. ¡°Hello Arrush, hello James. I see you brought a friend along.¡± Arrush just nodded anxiously in a tiny movement of his triangular head. ¡°Completely fine, your comfort is the most important thing here. Now, we¡¯re not committing to anything today, this is just the start of the process, alright? Deb and I will have questions, and if at any point, you need to not answer so you can take time to think, that¡¯s okay. The important thing is to get you thinking for the deeper planning later, and to start to figure out what kind of learning you¡¯ll need to work on, okay?¡± ¡±O-ookay.¡± Arrush choked out, his claw tightening on James¡¯ hand that he still hadn¡¯t let go of. James leaned over and whispered lightly into the side of the hood next to him. ¡°Careful, your claws are sharp.¡± Arrush instantly let go, and it was only then that they both realized how tight that grip had been. ¡±Cute.¡± Deb said dryly without looking up from the laptop she had out. ¡±Deborah¡­¡± Lua sighed, and James got the impression this kind of back and forth happened a lot in these meetings. Deb chose to power through and avoid any kind of reproach. ¡°So Arrush. We¡¯ve got twenty gallons of shaper substance for you, and a lot of magical support to go along with it. The body you¡¯re in now is¡­¡± she glanced at Lua, who was doing her best to still project calm joy while also being prepared to strangle Deb if she finished that sentence in an unsatisfactory way. ¡°¡­it has some problems. At the very least, we¡¯d like to fix any issues you have. But because of how shaper substance has a compounding failure rate, if you want any big changes made, now is the time to do it.¡± Lua smiled and set her hands on the table between them. ¡°So let¡¯s start with a big question that¡¯s not so simple. What would you like to be?¡± Arrush sucked in a long breath, filling the multiple regrown lung chambers he had in his chest. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He answered quickly, before continuing to try to explain himself, half looking at James with some of his eyes as he pulled his hood back now that he felt a little more comfortable. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ being a ratroach feels bad. But Keeka is, and now that he changed, he loves what he is. I don¡¯t know if I could do that though.¡± Starting to open his mouth, James was cut off by a gently raised hand from Lua. Her palm coming up off the table to let him know that while he probably had a lot to say, he could save it for later. She addressed Arrush directly. ¡°There isn¡¯t a right answer.¡± Lua said. ¡±Well, there technically is. You do have to pick something.¡± Deb chimed in. Lua took a long blink, keeping her composure even as Arrush and James both wondered if laughing was polite here. ¡°Yes, you do have to choose.¡± ¡±Because you¡¯ll die if you go in unprepared.¡± ¡±¡­yes thank you Deb. Emotionally, what matters is that you select a form that fits you, personally.¡± Lua said with a sigh. ¡°So far, the others who have gone through the process have chosen to remain similar to the original ratroach species, but the changes don¡¯t really leave them as the same thing. No matter what you pick as a base, you will be someone unique and special. So the most important thing is that you feel that you would enjoy living as the body you choose.¡± ¡±¡­could I be a camraconda?¡± Arrush asked. He didn¡¯t really want to be, but he was curious. Deb took over the answer. ¡°Technically yes, but also sort of no.¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure we could give you a serpent style form, and I know the shaper substance can work with their unique biorubber cord body, if you give it a sample. But I doubt we could give you the ability to freeze things, or the matter annihilation stomach engine they have. Probably could do the electromagnetic spectrum vision though.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± Arrush looked down, then back up. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ want that. But I could see more?¡± ¡±Yeah, probably. It might require a sample to replicate during the process, but we have those. You would be a test subject though.¡± Deb answered. Arrush slumped a bit, thinking over the words, and Lua picked up the conversation. ¡°A way that we¡¯ve found works well is to think of if there are parts of yourself you would actively change, and then work from there to decide what you would change them too.¡± ¡±Everything hurts.¡± Arrush said. ¡°Breathing during talking is still hard. I melt things. Shirts don¡¯t fit.¡± ¡±Yeah, that¡¯s all on the standard list.¡± Deb nodded. ¡°We can handle that. There¡¯s also a baseline thing for fixing up your other internal organs, adding a pancreas, and fixing your fur and chitin.¡± She glanced at Lua. ¡°Uh¡­ if you choose to stay ratroach.¡± She added. ¡±There isn¡¯t any pressure to-¡° ¡±What would you be?¡± Arrush asked James suddenly. James started, sitting up straighter in his comfy therapy chair. ¡°Me? Uh¡­ moth lizard thing.¡± He said. ¡°Probably. It seems cool. Humanoid frame still, but just mess with stuff to be fuzzier and maybe able to climb walls.¡± ¡±¡­would you have moth wings?¡± Arrush asked tentatively. ¡±Probably!¡± ¡±Can I have wings?¡± Arrush asked Lua. ¡±We can put that on the wishlist, of course!¡± She said, making a note on her pad. At her elbow, Deb had a different response. ¡°We can probably do that, but again, test subject. At some point I want to try using the Climb spell that gives people wings, then enforcing them to permanence with the¡­ this isn¡¯t important, sorry.¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°Wings, maybe.¡± ¡±I think¡­ I think I want to be like this, but better.¡± Arrush said, his voice very small. ¡°I don¡¯t want to change. I mean¡­ I mean I know I need to change, but I don¡¯t¡­¡± Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡±Deep breath.¡± Lua¡¯s calm voice instructed, demonstrating and guiding Arrush out of his building panic. ¡°There is nothing wrong with wanting your body to be better, but still familiar.¡± ¡±But¡­¡± Arrush twisted to look at James again. James snorted. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t mind me. We¡¯ve talked about this, I think you¡¯re cute. Don¡¯t change for me; I¡¯ll still think you¡¯re cute whatever you end up as. Oh! I could text Keeka and see if he says exactly the same thing!¡± James surreptitiously pulled out his phone and started tapping. ¡±Oh¡­¡± Arrush¡¯s exposed skin flushed neon green. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, unable to hide the beaming smile on his muzzle. Lua¡¯s own smile gave him a continual source of reassurance too. ¡°Support from people who care about you is so important. It seems like you have good people in your life.¡± She phrased it almost like a question, prompting Arrush to nod back and nudging him into actively acknowledging the good in himself. ¡°Now, we can talk about Deb¡¯s experimental wing idea later¡­¡± the words sounded strained from the therapist, but she pushed through, ¡°¡­but for now, let¡¯s talk some more about things that bother you day to day.¡± Her soothing voice and calm method of both reining in Deb and getting answers from Arrush made the minutes fly by as she got him to think about different parts of himself and what he¡¯d like to change, remove, or add. Antenna, eyes, teeth, the color of his fur even. Arm positioning, yes, but also number of limbs and shapes of hands. They weren¡¯t nailing down specifics, just getting Arrush to think about answers. Even if he had answers to a lot of them. Smoother antenna, more fur, less chitin, balanced and standardized eyes, hands with stronger thumbs. No pain, if possible. No itching lines between the fused parts of him. Also if possible he would like to not be an obligate omnivore anymore, a thing that James hadn¡¯t realized was the case, hadn¡¯t realized was a thing at all in a more general sense, and which made him even angrier at the Akashic Sewer for having an environment where there was almost nothing in the vegetable category available for the people who clearly needed it. ¡±How about your tails?¡± Lua asked toward the end of the questioning. ¡°How do you like them?¡± Arrush blushed an even brighter green than when James had complimented him. ¡°Oh¡­ I¡­ ah¡­¡± ¡±Ratroach tails tend to be an erogenous zone.¡± Deb answered in a clinically professional tone. ¡°James, before you say anything, it¡¯s because it makes it easier to hurt them, and yes, the Sewer is awful. Arrush, if you like that, I recommend keeping them, though other ratroaches have enjoyed success with fur layers or chitin banding in different ways.¡± ¡±O-oh. Fur sounds nice. I do like them.¡± Arrush said in a small little squeak of a voice. ¡°Or¡­ if I¡¯m not fighting¡­¡± Lua patted the back of one of his paws. ¡°We¡¯re going to start with the assumption that your body should be perfect for your life, not for your battles.¡± She said. Arrush gave an unsteady nod, like he didn¡¯t quite accept it, but he didn¡¯t say anything. And into that space, Deb lunged like a conversational ambush predator. ¡°Now since Lua always makes me ask, how do you want to handle any genital modifications? We¡¯ve got options.¡± As Arrush struggled not to light up with his glowing blush again, James decided he couldn¡¯t go the whole time without quipping. ¡°Can you give him two dicks?¡± He asked rapidly. ¡±James!¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, that¡¯s pretty easy. A few people have gone for that option so far. I¡¯ll put it on the list.¡± ¡±Deborah.¡± ¡±¡­I¡­I wouldn¡¯t¡­ I mean, if I had¡­¡± James grinned widely, running his hand along the back of Arrush¡¯s sweatshirt. ¡°I was kidding, I¡¯m sorry. But hey, if it turns out this unlocks a kink you didn¡¯t know you had, I¡¯m happy to take credit.¡± He held up his phone for Arrush to look at. ¡°Also Keeka did say exactly the same thing, which I think is hilarious.¡± Lua settled her face in her hands. ¡°Well, this has been a productive session. Arrush, thank you for taking this more seriously than these two. I¡¯m going to give you homework, which is to keep thinking about what you¡¯d like to be.¡± She looked up from her cupped palms, wiping strands of hair out of her face. ¡°Imagine yourself in different situations, as a different form. Which ones make you excited? Which ones make you feel wrong? If you can, try to keep small notes about what little bits stand out to you. And we¡¯ll meet again in a week to start to put together a final ¡®look¡¯ for your body. From there, the medical team will have required learning for you to go through to make sure everything goes smoothly. Does that sound good?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Arrush said instantly. ¡°Yes. It does. I didn¡¯t think¡­ I didn¡¯t know what I would want. But thank you. I want to be different, somehow, and now that¡­¡± He trailed off, chest rising and falling heavily as he worked to breathe. ¡±Now that you¡¯ve started, it all seems so much easier?¡± Lua tilted her head, giving him that calming smile. ¡°We hear that a lot. Thank you for coming. And James, thank you for offering mostly quiet support.¡± ¡±I¡¯m helping!¡± James declared. Despite his cheerful voice, he said it with the kind of dismissiveness that he used toward a lot of the things he did. But the honest gratitude in Arrush¡¯s eyes as he looked at James, and the thankful nod that Lua gave him, forced him to consider that maybe he actually was useful in some way. He¡¯d always wanted to be useful. But truly feeling it in quiet moments like this was new and different. And he liked it. James stayed mostly quiet as the others finalized their goodbyes, lingering a little awkwardly in the entrance as he waited for Arrush and then holding the door open for the tan furred ratroach as they walked back out into the basement¡¯s halls and James had to mentally slap himself as a reminder that despite the windows in there they weren¡¯t on the ground floor. ¡±I¡¯m embarrassed enough to crawl away and nap.¡± Arrush said. ¡°That was so many questions. You know so many things now. It¡¯s not fair.¡± ¡±I mean, you can ask me questions if you want?¡± James offered. ¡°My body is way less interesting though.¡± ¡±Really?¡± It wasn¡¯t clear if Arrush was challenging the part about James being interesting, or asking if he was allowed to interrogate him. James avoided answering with a smile. ¡°So, it¡¯s okay to say no if you¡¯re tired, but would you like to go out to dinner? There¡¯s a pizza place around the corner if you feel up to it.¡± ¡±I¡­¡± Arrush stopped, lagging behind as he tilted his snout to the side and blinked in a flickering cascade of eyes. ¡°I can try that.¡± He said. ¡°Who else?¡± ¡±No, like, just you.¡± James said with a grin. ¡°I wanted to go on an actual date with you.¡± Arrush lit up even brighter than when Deb had started explaining dick options. ¡°Oh.¡± He tried to say, the word coming out as a wet choke in his surprise. ¡°Y-yes! I would like that!¡± Arrush agreed with undisguised excitement. ¡±Cool!¡± James took a turn, leading them past Rufus and Umbra¡¯s paranormal garden room, and toward the elevator. Maybe he normally would have felt awkward, or worried, or some other energy sapping emotion. But Arrush had said yes, everything was completely fine, and he was feeling suave and in control of his life, and he got to get pizza with a cute guy he liked. ¡°Just let me know at any point if you wanna head back.¡± He said as they got to the elevator. All he got back was a nod, and Arrush shifting closer to him as they rode up to the ground floor of the Lair. They passed by the growing reptile zone, and James waved at a couple people setting up part of their expensive front space for some event going on later. Pushing out into the parking lot, James took a refreshed breath of warm spring air, complete with exhaust fumes from the main road just up the little hill from the Lair. ¡±God dammit.¡± He coughed, laughing as he did so. Arrush tentatively patted him on the back, and James leaned into the sensation of the touch through his shirt as he cleared his lungs. ¡°Alright! This way!¡± He said, hoping to override any worry Arrush had about being in public with sheer willpower. James had learned a lot from Sarah, including how to try to channel happiness into the local universe. They strolled for a while, James leading them across recessed parking lots that were mostly empty in the evening, rather than actually putting them next to the road. Cars were useful in a lot of ways, but they sucked to walk near. ¡±What happens on a date?¡± Arrush asked suddenly as they passed a building that claimed to manufacture batteries but James had never seen anyone go into, despite it being a close neighbor of the Lair. James hummed. ¡°Well. Okay.¡± He spread his hands. ¡°I should say that I¡¯m not good at dating.¡± He started with. ¡±You are dating¡­ a lot.¡± Arrush pointed out with a cracked muzzle. ¡±Ah! No, I¡¯m dating a few people. I don¡¯t date. It¡¯s different, and I¡¯m sorry this language is weird sometimes.¡± He laughed lightly. ¡°Anyway, I dunno! I think we hang out, get some food, and just talk about whatever is on our minds. Do that thing where we make casual conversation, that sometimes leads to us sharing deeper things that are important to us. See where it goes.¡± James stretched his arms up over his head, looking up at the sky¡¯s evening color. ¡°What do you want to do on a date?¡± He asked. Arrush thought about it. ¡°Is that allowed?¡± He asked eventually. ¡°We can make it up?¡± ¡±Arrush, we made up almost everything about how life in the Order works.¡± A contemplative clicking met him in response. Next to him, Arrush also looked up at the sky, his sandaled feet making sharp slaps on the asphalt as he walked with James. ¡°I¡¯m still afraid of almost everything.¡± He said. ¡°Except for a few things. Keeka is one. I could never be afraid of him. But also, you.¡± Arrush raised several arms in a mimicry of James¡¯ stance. ¡°If we are making it all up¡­ I just want to be here.¡± Arrush said. ¡±Here in this parking lot?¡± James asked irreverently. ¡±Here wherever you are making jokes.¡± Arrush said. ¡°I like the jokes.¡± He admitted quietly, dropping his larger arms back to his sides, but keeping many of his eyes angled upwards. Then, unable to keep the crooked and cheeky grin off his muzzle, he added, ¡°I said something important. Now you have to say something casual.¡± James blinked, then burst out into a hearty laugh. ¡°Oh!¡± He eventually exclaimed. ¡°Is that how this works? Okay, okay! I think one of the camracondas got a fake ID, and it¡¯s been on my mind a lot.¡± James admitted. ¡°Like, I cannot stop giggling internally.¡± ¡±¡­whhhhy?¡± Arrush couldn¡¯t think of what was funny about it. Obviously they¡¯d need some kind of social camouflage; the government of this polity was arranged to be preemptively hostile to nonhuman life. It wasn¡¯t their fault, but it was a real concern a lot of the people in his support group talked about, especially the camracondas. James knew that, but didn¡¯t really feel it all the time, so his answer was a little more along the line of absurdist humor. ¡°I just keep thinking that it¡¯s gonna be a driver¡¯s license with a camraconda name, and then a picture of an average human?¡± He stopped, and leaned back, staring at nothing. ¡°Or, even better, that it is just straight up a picture of a camraconda, and they¡¯re going for a kind of refuge in audacity. Or they have it just to buy alcohol because they¡¯re only six years old and not twenty one.¡± ¡±You can¡¯t¡­ buy things? Unless you¡¯re old enough?¡± Arrush might have been doing something wrong. ¡±Just alcohol and some other drugs. Also rental cars, for a variety of statistical reasons.¡± James shrugged. ¡°Guns. Uh¡­ other legal licenses for businesses or things. Most accounts with ongoing services. Cough syrup. As I make this list I¡¯m realizing that we might have a problem.¡± ¡±Your problem is strange.¡± Arrush gave a chittering light laugh. ¡°Now something special.¡± James felt like it might not perfectly work to flip between casual and deeply intimate like that on demand, but he still felt like trying. ¡°The other thing that¡¯s been on my mind is something about us.¡± He said, almost too quietly to be heard over the truck passing nearby. ¡°I think it was Sarah who said something about this the other day, and dumped some common sense into my brain. You¡¯re different, you know?¡± ¡±I also¡­ talked to Sarah about it. I know. I¡¯m sor-¡° Arrush stopped his reflexive apology as James tapped him on the nose. Continuing unabated, James acted like he¡¯d heard nothing so foolish as an apology. ¡±Now that you say that first part, I¡¯m remembering that it was literally your interview on her podcast. But yeah! Being different isn¡¯t bad. Personally, I¡¯m a fan of it. What I wanted to say was that, if I do something that ignores something you need, let me know, okay? Like, earlier, when Lua was asking you questions about changes you want to make, she said you were an obligate omnivore. I didn¡¯t know that. I¡¯ve made food for you before, and I didn¡¯t even know what your diet was. And I wanna know about you. I like you. I think it¡¯s amazing how much you¡¯ve changed since you joined us, and sometimes you open your mouth and say the greatest stuff, but I don¡¯t want to accidentally think of you as¡­ as like a human that looks different, you know?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t think so.¡± Arrush said as they finally had to abandon the plan of crossing parking lots and lawns and cross a street to get where they were going. It was so scary, to think that every person in every one of these cars would be seeing him, out in the open. Any of them could kill him by accident, and that was before they saw what he really was. He didn¡¯t know how humans handled the fear, so he just moved closer to James, and hoped that would be enough. ¡°Isn¡¯t that good? To treat¡­ it sounds wrong to say ¡®my people¡¯, but they are. To treat ratroaches as equals?¡± ¡±Equals? Absolutely. But you¡¯re not the same.¡± James emphasized it, trying to think of how to phrase his point. ¡°You¡¯ve never had to be the same to be valuable. I hope we¡¯ve taught you all that. But I wanted to make sure you, personally, knew that you don¡¯t need to try to pretend to be something you aren¡¯t, just to make me happy.¡± ¡±I would though!¡± Arrush said eagerly. James winced as the light turned. ¡°Ooooh, no.¡± He shook his head as they hurried through the crosswalk. ¡°That puts way too much responsibility on me! I¡¯m not a responsible person!¡± Arrush took his own turn to lightly stretch out a paw and flick the tip of his claw against James¡¯ nose, getting a yelp in reply. ¡°The only time you ever lie is about yourself.¡± Arrush said. ¡°Why do you do th-that?¡± ¡±Depression, mostly. Though it¡¯s a lot better these days!¡± James said as he pointed them at an angle going straight across a field and then an open lot to reach the door of a pizza place that looked like it was absolutely haunted. ¡°Also, how¡¯re you doing? Breath okay?¡± The ratroach nodded. ¡°Somehow. Maybe wahh-walking helps?¡± ¡±Okay.¡± James opened the door and held it for his friend. The inside was pleasantly lit, clean, and looked nothing like the crumbling brick of the outside. There seemed to be two solitary employees, one half visible back in the kitchen, the other one up front filling plastic cups with ranch dressing, and both of them watched James and Arrush enter. James tried to ignore the staring in favor of the pizzas on display in the front case. ¡°What do you feel like.¡± ¡±Hiding.¡± Arrush answered, pulling his hood over his antenna and down past half his eyes before tugging on the drawstring. James set a gentle hand on his arm. ¡°I bet you a dollar that they just think you have a cool costume.¡± ¡±That¡¯s worse.¡± Arrush said. ¡°Dh-don¡¯t know how. But it¡¯s worse.¡± ¡±Actually it¡¯s cause you¡¯re the first people to come in for an hour. The owner picked a really dumb location.¡± The guy behind the counter said. ¡°Cool not costume though!¡± Arrush straightened up, blinking in light confusion. ¡°Oh.¡± He said simply. ¡°Thank you.¡± He stayed mostly quiet as they picked out their food though, trying to use James as cover despite being a foot taller than his walking wall. When they got a table in the corner, Arrush sagged in relief as he got to sit out of sight of anyone else. ¡°Now can I be sorry?¡± He asked. ¡±Nah.¡± James said simply as he spun his plate around to get at the slice he¡¯d ordered. ¡°I did exactly the same thing for most of my twenties.¡± ¡±I¡¯m going to be sorry anyway.¡± Arrush protested, crossing his smaller limbs defiantly as he tried to lift his own pizza with a claw that punched through the crust a little too easily. James grinned at him around a bite of food. ¡°So, to divert from that to something I¡¯ve been curious about, how¡¯s life at the Lair been?¡± He said in a muffled voice as he chewed. Arrush tugged at the pizza that he¡¯d sunk his fangs into, the cheese seeming to be some kind of infinite source of matter from which there was no escape. Eventually, after entangling a claw in strands of the stuff, he managed to get through his bite, get past James shaking in quiet laughter, and come up with a reply. ¡°Different.¡± Arrush said. ¡±Different?¡± ¡±Not the same.¡± James blinked at the smugly delivered clarification, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he realized just how proud of his joke Arrush was. It was adorable. Or at least, he adored it. ¡°How is it different, you¡­ something.¡± James sadly wasn¡¯t like Sarah, with an endless library of inoffensive goofball names to call people. Deciding to give an answer after biting one of his pizza slices in half, Arrush swallowed and let his biology handle the greasy food. ¡°New people, new things. And¡­ and I was part of it. I helped you bring back things. Lives changed because of us. I don¡¯t know how I feel about it.¡± ¡±It¡¯s a big thing to live with.¡± James nodded in solemn agreement. ¡°But I like to think that we¡¯re using our magic to make the changes good. I more meant, like, how¡¯s your daily life going. Not¡­ uh¡­ ¡®how¡¯s the burden of responsibility for helping to find an iLipede that might help with ratroach medical treatment feel¡¯. That was you, right?¡± ¡±That was me.¡± Arrush flushed neon, twisting his head away so fast his barbed antenna danced like they were on springs. ¡°It¡¯s small though. The table is-¡° ¡±The table.¡± James wanted to drop his head to the surface of their current table, but didn¡¯t want to deal with headbutting his pizza. ¡°That thing!¡± Arrush made a clever deduction. ¡±¡­you do not like the table.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t like¡­ uh¡­ okay, I love the table, and what it does. It¡¯s so cool. I¡¯ve gotten to be Alanna for a bit, and that¡¯s so neat. I want to use it all the time and experience a bunch of weird stuff. Hell, I¡¯ll use it with you if you¡¯re up for it! But also it¡¯s such a massive risk in terms of turning everything into a confusing mess, or maybe probably accidentally killing people if they touch it at the same time as an infomorph, and I don¡¯t know how to handle it.¡± ¡±Do yuh-you¡­ do you think it isn¡¯t? A mess. Isn¡¯t a mess.¡± Arrush asked. ¡°Everything is so big. Our food is even from other worlds.¡± James jerked to a frozen pose, mouth open. ¡°Wh¡­ what?¡± ¡±In the kitchen. I help there, and the boxes of fruit come from other worlds. Like Argentina. Or Mexico.¡± ¡±Those are countries, they¡¯re still on this world. Also you speak Spanish, which is the primary language in at least one of those places, which makes me wonder what kind of weird dungeon knowledge imprint you got that could give you a language and not that kind of extra information. But, to be fair, those places are thousands of miles away, so¡­ yeah, I mean, the human web of logistics and transport and farming and economics that links distant parts of our planet and sends us bananas is pretty messy.¡± Arrush pointed at James with the crust of a slice of pizza. ¡°You argue with yourself.¡± He declared. ¡±Usually.¡± James nodded in eager agreement. ¡°Also you didn¡¯t really answer about your life!¡± ¡±It¡¯s¡­ good. The best. Perfect.¡± Arrush wasn¡¯t even sure he had words for it. ¡°I help with things, and no one screams or bites. The new ratroaches, I can help without hurting. I uh-understand you now.¡± James jammed a finger into his chest. ¡±Me, personally?¡± A short and slow nod came back, to avoid drips. ¡°When we met. You were so angry, but it wasn¡¯t at Keeka, or at me. It was¡­ something that had been done to us, and you wanted to maim and ruin the Sewer, for what it did. Now I know.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± James got it. Every little sortie into the Akashic Sewer brought out at least one or two ratroaches, and always had the potential to liberate the other species too, though they still hadn¡¯t gotten any takers from them. And every one of them arrived¡­ not broken. But at the same starting point. Hurt, scared, hungry, infected, in constant pain, with bodies that were made to break, often half-mad from having had to live as prey for more aggressive siblings. Traumatized beyond what many people would be able to take. On edge and prepared to lash out in an instant if they felt threatened again, which happened often. Or, almost worse, they would be prepared to submit themselves to being owned by their rescuers; slavery with a nicer hand on the whip, as far as they were concerned. And someone had to be there for them. Help get them warm and safe and healed. The Recovery branch of the Order were more superheroes than James could ever hope to be, but they weren¡¯t everywhere at once. So they got help from others, himself included. And Arrush included, too, apparently. ¡±Can I ask something?¡± Arrush asked, in the time honored tradition of that conversational paradox. ¡±Sure!¡± James shook himself out of his grim thoughts. ¡°What¡¯cha thinking?¡± Arrush interwove his claws under the table, looking downward and not meeting James¡¯ eyes except with the upper pair of his own, and even then it was mostly by accident and because he couldn¡¯t twist far enough to keep his whole head from seeing. ¡°Does¡­ am I¡­ are you boh-bothered by my age?¡± ¡±Oof.¡± James leaned back, tossing the last crust of his own pizza like a bone onto the metal plate he¡¯d been served on. ¡°Because you¡¯re relatively young, right?¡± Arrush gave a twitching nod. ¡°Okay. So, I think I¡¯m the wrong person to ask.¡± James admitted. ¡±Why?¡± ¡±Well, I¡¯m pretty fucking biased.¡± James laughed roughly, waving a hand at Arrush as he leaned back. ¡°I asked you on a date. I have an agenda. So I can¡¯t really be trusted. I¡¯ll just say something about how you¡¯re not human and your relative maturity doesn¡¯t line up in terms of lived years. Which, like, is objectively true. A three year old ratroach is absolutely different from a three year old human.¡± ¡±I¡­ I am five.¡± Arrush sounded guilty about it. ¡°Maybe six.¡± ¡±Yeah, and ratroaches that are one are roughly equivalent to humans in their early teen years.¡± James said. ¡°That¡¯s the thing I¡¯ve noticed about dungeon creations. Dungeons usually don¡¯t seem to want long term investments, they want dangerous things now. But even still, I¡­ don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know what the ¡®right¡¯ number for ratroach age of consent should be. I don¡¯t know how to answer your question, and honestly, I tend to just not think about how old you are most of the time. But yeah, it does make me kinda awkward, because I worry that I¡¯m rationalizing and not actually giving real reasons. We should actually nail down a real answer, and by we, I mean people in the Order who aren¡¯t actively trying to date ratroaches or camracondas or something.¡± Arrush still didn¡¯t meet James¡¯ comforting look. ¡°Can I tell you something bad?¡± This question at least wasn¡¯t paradoxical. James nodded, eyes widening slightly. He set a hand on the table, and let Arrush tentatively reach out to wrap awkwardly sharp claws around his fingers. ¡°I am¡­ not a creation.¡± ¡±Oh?¡± James thought he might know what the ratroach meant, but he didn¡¯t want to push. ¡±I was born. Ori¡­ the Sewer still pushed thoughts into me. But I wasn¡¯t one of the hollows.¡± Arrush jerked his hand back abruptly, grabbing for a wad of napkins from the dispenser on the table to rapidly try to stem the flow of tears from a few of his eyes. ¡°No no no¡­¡± he made a rapid clicking in his throat as the paper napkins hissed and smoked. ¡±Hey, it¡¯s okay.¡± James said calmly, pulling a few of his own napkins out and holding them open. ¡°Just dump that in here and we¡¯ll toss it. No worries.¡± He considered trying to sink the ball of smoldering paper in the garbage can from here, but no amount of basketball practice would make him feel comfortable trying. ¡°I just¡­ I get that it means something to you. But I want you to know, right now, that how you came to be doesn¡¯t change how I think of you, okay?¡± ¡±I keh-killed my mother.¡± Arrush coughed wetly, pressing a secondary paw against half of his eyes, soaking up the corrosive glowing tears into the point where his chitin shifted to fur. ¡°Why don¡¯t you care?¡± James forced himself not to shrug, worried it might seem dismissive. ¡°Because¡­ I dunno, because I know you. I know people aren¡¯t their pasts. And you don¡¯t blame a newborn for anything. That¡¯s stupid. You survived. And I¡¯m glad you did, because you¡¯re here now.¡± He could keep rambling forever, about how just being alive meant that you could keep working to fix everything, including yourself, but he fell silent instead. Let Arrush take rasping breaths and refill the extra lung chambers that talking always exhausted too quickly. ¡±S-sorry.¡± Arrush huffed out eventually. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to be sad in a date.¡± ¡°Hah! Arrush, please. I can be sad anywhere, anytime. You being sad during a romantic lunch is exactly on brand for all of my closest friends.¡± James idly stacked their plates and let Arrush steal his last piece of crust, the ratroach sawing into it with his dripping fangs in a way that was fascinatingly effortless to watch. ¡°You can be as sad as you want. Part of being my friend is that I¡¯m here for you. And, I dunno, maybe we¡¯ll be more than friends. Let¡¯s see where it goes!¡± Arrush nodded slowly as he melted the crunchy bite of bread. Then he perked up. ¡°Oh! A less sad question! Is it¡­ for you, is it uncomfortable to date someone that lives so far away?¡± ¡±¡­I¡­ what?¡± ¡±Because Keeka and I live at the Lair.¡± ¡±I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m at the Lair almost every day.¡± James said with head tilted confusion. ¡°Also that has never been a problem before. I haven¡¯t dated a lot, but Alanna didn¡¯t start living with Anesh and me. Also the Lair is close enough that I could actually walk there from my apartment if I wanted, it would just take a while. Relative to my commute to my last real job, it¡¯s close. So it¡¯s not that weird at all. Is it to you?¡± Arrush thought about it, staring up at the lamp over their table, deep in thought like he was trying to memorize the cone shape. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He settled on with a firm conviction. James laughed. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been wondering if I should move to the Lair anyway.¡± He pretended not to notice how Arrush instantly showed a vibrating excitement. Actually, he wondered if Arrush knew that his antenna straightened up as a tell. ¡°My apartment is great, but paying rent is a hassle, and wasting telepads every day feels¡­ bad. Like, they¡¯re so important, and it feels silly. Also the Lair is just safer. Buuuuuut, I¡¯m also just super happy with the green orb effects on my apartment? The friendly dog thing is¡­ like, I think I¡¯d cry if I gave that up. Oh, and holy shit, I¡¯d have to explain everything to the landlords as part of the moveout inspection. Uggggh.¡± ¡±The¡­ what?¡± ¡±Oh. So, I don¡¯t actually ¡®own¡¯ the place I live. I pay someone else to live there. And when I move out, they¡¯ll do an inspection to make sure I didn¡¯t set anything on fire or trash the place or install a secret bonus closet or something.¡± ¡±Yuh-you did do th-that. That last one.¡± Arrush astutely pointed out. ¡°And a¡­ basement?¡± ¡±Yup!¡± James folded his arms, beaming happily in defiance of property law. ¡°So I¡¯m just imagining the conversation where I have to explain ¡°Oh, yes, this is the celler. Yes I know we¡¯re on the second floor and have downstairs neighbors, please don¡¯t ask. Oh, and a dog shows up every day. You can just pet them, or keep them if you want, I guess. Now, we didn¡¯t modify the appliances, but the AC is 30% more effective and also food in the fridge goes bad slower I think.¡± And then they¡¯d look at me like I was crazy but also I¡¯d get to show them the basement stairs and just¡­¡± James trailed off. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d even tell them about how we pay less rent than we¡¯re supposed to. I don¡¯t even know what that looks like on their end. Like, do they still get the amount they think they¡¯re supposed to? It¡¯s so weird and I didn¡¯t want to poke it too hard in case it broke.¡± Arrush was covering the corners of his cracked muzzle with a pair of paws, snickering in increasingly energetic laughs as James spoke. ¡°Th-the Lair doesn¡¯t charge rent.¡± He offered helpfully. ¡°And we could¡­ make dogs?¡± ¡±That¡¯s a pretty strong case for moving.¡± James nodded. ¡°Also¡­ eh. Our apartment now is laid out weird? Like, we didn¡¯t get a three bedroom place expecting that everyone involved would be dating each other. Also, do you wanna get walking? We can head back to the Lair. Or, like, we could teleport over by my weird apartment and wander around the little nature trail there if you want.¡± ¡±I¡¯d like that.¡± Arrush said. The two of them rose, and headed out, with James waving politely to the two people behind the counter. Arrush tentatively waved too, but only James saw the sudden twitch of realization from the cashier when they noticed that Arrush waved with arms a human shouldn¡¯t have. The evening air felt good, even if it was starting to cool off quickly. And James felt like he could have enjoyed walking forever like this. He was feeling not just comfortable, but like he was exactly where he wanted to be in the moment. And from Arrush¡¯s perspective, while today had been a series of small terrors just like normal, there was also a bubbling excitement that maybe, not only was everything going to be okay, but that it would be excellent. For both of them, it didn¡¯t really occur to consider that the way they were feeling was the way they tended to feel about their extant partners. James¡¯ level of comfort was one that he tended to only really get around Anesh and Alanna. And Arrush only ever felt like the world was truly bright when Keeka¡¯s presence lit it up. The two of them, partly oblivious to their own feelings, but enjoying themselves anyway, spent what felt like a long time walking and chatting about things that weren¡¯t the fate of the world. Arrush had a lot to say about his favorite parts of the Ceaseless Stacks when James asked about it, and the unfolding passion he had for delving that particular dungeon was a joy to see. And James had a very him-typical explanation of his own take on polyamory when Arrush asked him about how they would handle the way they spent their romantic energy with the people they cared about. A few people passed them. People walking dogs or heading to or from dinner, one exhausted looking woman herding a flock of eight young kids who were super excited about everything. Some people gave Arrush weird looks, but no one said anything, which was good, because James was prepared to fight the entire world for Arrush tonight. The closest they got to anyone being rude was a girl from a pair of punk style mid-twenty-somethings excitedly asking Arrush if he was a furry and not seeming to know what to do when she got an awkward ¡°no¡± as an answer. And that wasn¡¯t even rude; James found it hilarious, and gave the girl a business card. The Order could use more people like that. Both of them talked about their other partners. James hadn¡¯t really realized how much he¡¯d been excited by that simple thing, but he was. Hearing Arrush gush about how happy Keeka was and how much he loved his boyfriend even when he was being a chaotic gremlin was perfect. And in turn, he found he had a lot of fun memories to share of his own time with Alanna and Anesh. And it wasn¡¯t weird. There were times, even in the Order that was dramatically more progressive than most other communities, where James felt like he was still partly an outsider because of his relationship. But with Arrush, there was no judgment at all, no hesitation. This wasn¡¯t just normal for him, it was expected. And that really did change how the conversation felt. They traced the path of the trail in a loop of a couple miles before doubling back and ending up near the outside of James¡¯ apartment. And eventually, their date did need to end. They were both exhausted from long days, and the decent walk hadn¡¯t helped. But James, still high on self-confidence, decided to take a chance ask something. ¡±Do you wanna come in? And¡­ maybe spend the night?¡± He asked Arrush. ¡°It¡¯s okay if not, I¡¯ve got a spare telepad, if you wanna head home. I don¡¯t want you to feel-¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Arrush snapped off an instant answer, before pulling back and staring at the front door of James¡¯ apartment, tentatively looking back down the wobbly stone steps they¡¯d come up. ¡°But¡­ is it okay?¡± James pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. ¡±Well, Alanna¡¯s been texting me for the last hour asking if I¡¯ve started making out with you. At least one Anesh has let me know he¡¯ll be staying at your place tonight with Keeka. And Sarah says she¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ what?¡± ¡±What?¡± ¡±Sarah just texted our apartment group ¡®potion stuff tonight, might not be human tomorrow, out for the evening¡¯¡± Arrush looked back at James, trying not to worry about the sound of people talking on a nearby balcony. ¡±¡­I thought¡­ everyone thinks that Momo is the reckless one.¡± ¡±I thought it was Nik. Actually, it¡¯s legit surprising how safe dungeon magic is to work with.¡± James sighed as he let his tired brain take a sharp tangent. ¡°Anyway. The point is¡­ yes, it¡¯s okay.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t¡­ want to make you¡­ feel like you have to?¡± Arrush tentatively guessed. James reached out and took one of Arrush¡¯s claws, gently pulling the taller figure closer to him. The two of them standing illuminated by the porch light and the glow from the adjacent window into James¡¯ cramped dining room. ¡°Hey.¡± He said with a nervously excited grin. ¡°I¡¯d like to sleep with you. I¡¯d like to hold you, and kiss you, and show you the affection that you absolutely deserve. I don¡¯t know when I noticed it exactly, but I really do like you. Maybe more. Tonight was great, and I want to keep learning to be as comfortable with you as I can be. Because, if you¡¯ll have me, I¡¯d want our lives to intertwine. So yes, you can come in, and stay the night, if you want. But only if you want. I just want you to know that I definitely want.¡± Under the direct glow of the light by the front door, the green hue of an embarrassed Arrush¡¯s skin practically lit up like a firework. His clawed fingers clenched lightly around James¡¯ hand, and he pressed all seven of his eyes shut as he took a deep breath and tried to push himself to say the thing that he really wanted to say. And then he just did. ¡°Yes.¡± He said, the word coming out as a rodent¡¯s squeak. ¡°Yes, I would¡­ yes.¡± He nodded at James, beads of glowing blue forming in the corners of his eyes before he wiped them away, leaving streaks of damage on his hoodie¡¯s sleeves. James opened the front door, and, still holding his boyfriend¡¯s hand, led him through the living room and down the hall to his bedroom. From their place on the couch, Anesh, Alanna, and Auberdeen all called out cheerful greetings, which James replied to with his own laughing voice and Arrush replied to by trying to shrink into himself with embarrassment. But they still got past the gauntlet of roommates unopposed. And it was an excellent and comfortable end to an excellent and comfortable night. _____ Ignoring the movie they were watching, Anesh turned to his girlfriend. ¡°Did he ever get that poetic with us?¡± He asked. Because their front door was not soundproof, and they had both absolutely heard everything James said. Especially when, to Auberdeen¡¯s protest, Alanna had muted the movie. Which was why the dog was currently sulking on the other end of the couch. Alanna, not even pretending to contain the utter glee she felt as her shipping of James and Arrush finally came to fruition, mused on the question. ¡°I vaguely remember some kind of incredibly dramatic confession of love, so maybe.¡± She said. ¡°Actually that¡¯s weird, because it feels like it was super important, but the details are all blurry. Huh.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I got anything dramatic. I do remember you two coming home from a duel to the death, and you dragging me into bed.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Well, on the plus side, he¡¯s getting better at talking like he¡¯s in a high fantasy show. Which I¡¯m right certain is good paladin training.¡± Sucking in a breath and widening her eyes, Alanna had a great idea. ¡°We should see if we can get James a role in the next D&D movie! Do we have this power?¡± Anesh laughed. Then had a thought that was less amusing. ¡°¡­so¡­where do we sleep?¡± He asked. From the end of the couch, Auberdeen gave a chuffing woof, reminding them that this couch was her bed. ¡°You have a bed right there!¡± Alanna said, pointing at the doggie bed that was currently occupied by Lily the iLipede and nothing else. Which suddenly made sense to her. ¡°Oh. Huh. Auberdeen, do you need a better bed?¡± Their dog softly woofed and shook her head, shifting to thump her paws into the couch she was okay with. ¡°Okay. Well, anyway, I don¡¯t need to sleep for another day. You should go sleep with your new boyfriend.¡± She directed Anesh. ¡°I think at least one of me already is¡± ¡°Of everyone, in the fuckin¡¯ world, I think Keeka would understand that your circumstances are a little weird but also very hot.¡± Anesh nodded sagely. ¡°Hot in that there can only be so many of me in a room before it begins to overheat. This is why I stopped making copies.¡± A proud little smile crept onto his face as he got a dog style laugh out of Auberdeen. ¡°I thought it was the existential social crisis.¡± Alanna said, partly asking and partly just wanting to banter with her partner. She got a nod back in agreement. ¡°And that. But also the thing I said that made Auberdeen laugh. I thought I was being funny.¡± Alanna pulled her boyfriend in close against her, which was easy to do when he was already partly in her lap. ¡°You¡¯re hilarious and cute, yes. But also, Aub, do you¡­ do you have a sense of humor? We never really talk that much. How¡¯s your day going? Oh, shit! We should get that other couch!¡± ¡°I¡¯m teleporting to the Lair.¡± Anesh said with a laugh. ¡°You two have fun with the movie. It¡¯s¡­ not exactly my thing, I just didn¡¯t want to say anything. You don¡¯t mind if I vanish for a bit?¡± ¡±Nah, here, let me¡­¡± Alanna shifted around, trying to get Anesh free from their tangle of limbs and blankets without throwing him into a table leg. ¡°I love you but you gotta get a flexibility orb. Get a copy of the thing James has that lets his elbows go backward!¡± ¡±We have that?¡± ¡±We have that! Get some orbs!¡± Alanna laughed. ¡°I take advantage of my stipend, you should too!¡± ¡±I¡¯ll be honest, because I do a lot of testing on Library copies, I sorta feel like I should share the other orbs around more. And what do I need even? I¡¯ve already got Stacks ranks in two kinds of marmoset and three sorts of fish.¡± Anesh asked as his girlfriend pulled him up off the floor with surprising ease, dusting himself off as he looked in their telepad drawer for one of the little notepads. A copy of an improved version of the item that he¡¯d made himself, ready to take him off to his destination. ¡°But yes, I¡¯ll consider it.¡± He chuckled at Alanna¡¯s exasperated look that clearly told him that what he should be getting was an orb that made his elbows better. Anesh leaned down to share a small kiss with Alanna, which turned into a long and passionate kiss when she grabbed the back of his head. ¡°Ahem!¡± He said, face slightly flushed as he stood back up. ¡°Well! I love you, clearly. And I¡¯ll see you later, which seems likely, since you¡¯re not sleeping, and I just realized how weird that is.¡± ¡°Yup!¡± Alanna gave him a thumbs up and didn¡¯t explain, holding the pose until Anesh gave up being suspicious and teleported away. ¡°Alright. So. Aubs, you wanna sit on a magic couch while I haul it to our interstate teleport platform? I¡¯ve got a dumb idea and I wanna see how far it goes.¡± The fluffy white canine, likely the smartest member of her species ever, gave a curious woof, and then stood on the couch cushion and shook herself off. Her roommates were constantly talking about all the other strange things they had. Maybe today would be a good time to see some of them. Also there was someone new in the bedroom, and she didn¡¯t want to worry about overhearing something that would be rude to eavesdrop on accidentally. So this was probably polite. Plus, she got to sit on a new couch. Chapter 272 ¡°Yeah, but this is New England. We speak New English here.¡± -Worm Girl, Let¡¯s Play Cataclysm DDA- _____ ¡°Hold this, and stand there.¡± Was not on the list of things James expected to hear as he roved through the basements the next day. But it wasn¡¯t really a surprise either. He¡¯d dropped Arrush off at his own apartment, and decided that since he lacked a major crisis, didn¡¯t want to make more work for Karen until at least one big project was rolling without her oversight, and wasn¡¯t signed on to any of the week¡¯s delves, he¡¯d fulfill one of the other roles of a paladin. Wandering around, and just poking his nose into things, looking for anyone who needed help and doing his best to smooth out the spread of information. So far, his permanent grin and bouncing step had taken him to a few places. Checking in with Banana had been fun, as he¡¯d helped her study about her own circulatory system in preparation for a change that would be happening next month and seemed to have crept up from ¡®the distant future¡¯ to ¡®on an upcoming date¡¯ really fast. Helping out with the potion production line had been good too. James wanted to know how to make the magic, not just use it, so he¡¯d lent a hand to processing materials for use, measuring and stirring, and doing safety tests on the large batches that were ready to be packaged and used. Potions for exercise, skin regeneration, healing the lungs, and generating a mild intangibility field, were all produced as quick as the Order¡¯s growing dedicated team could make them. But alongside those, potions for sharing dreams, linguistic development, reading, fertilizing plants, and other small wonders were created too. James didn¡¯t even have to give a hard no to any of the potions that were in refinement. A simple chat with one of the first camracondas to join them turned into a longer conversation about the value of names, and how the camraconda population viewed their maybe-strange naming system. And also how it could feel odd when other serpents broke from it. Velocity-Of-Wind hadn¡¯t ever really spoken to James before, and seemed like he was still working on forming full sentences, but the two of them ended up talking for a while both to each other and to a few other camracondas that stopped to listen. Eventually they mutually decided that the value of a structured system was that, when people started subverting it, it was very funny. Some of what he did was simple errands. Running a few documents up to the skyrise office to hand off to Cathy or Smoke or whoever was around. Watering Ferndidnand and Tyrannadonny, and learning that the two different potted plants did not get along. Vacuuming the front lobby. Double checking to make sure the chair that made you forget it hadn¡¯t been forgotten. James spent half an hour looking for a belt with Alex. The other girl talking to him about negotiations with the local power company while her sanity rapidly eroded as she searched the same scorched cardboard box for the eight time. James left before they found it, if the finding ever happened. It was shortly after delivering a load of clean towels - real towels, not the crappy magic ones he could make - to the baths that James found himself in the Research basement again. Mostly he was there to verify that a bit of information about the building¡¯s electrical system had gotten passed on properly, but almost right after he¡¯d done that, he¡¯d made the mistake of making eye contact with Reed and Nik, who had been tracking him the whole time he was walking around the edge of their central hub in the chaos. ¡±I feel like the blast shielding means this is a terrible idea.¡± James said as he looked at the lead backed titanium plates that had been set up at the end of the firing range. ¡±It¡¯ll be fine.¡± Nik said. ¡°It¡¯s just in case. You just need to stand on the other side of them.¡± ¡±And hold this.¡± Reed said, pointing at a box that looked like it was more secure than most bank vaults. ¡°Hence ¡®hold this and stand there¡¯.¡± James stared at both of them. He should have picked up Zhu before coming down here; Zhu would have had the proper level of snark for this encounter. ¡°Reed. Come on.¡± He said. ¡°I have been having a great day, after a great night, and you¡¯re just¡­ fucking murdering my vibe.¡± ¡±¡­I could explain why?¡± Reed ventured, teeth set in a rectangular wince. James just gave him a slow and deliberate nod, so he rapidly cleared his throat and elaborated. ¡°It¡¯s the phone. The one that looks like an old Nokia from the Office. We¡¯re testing if its signal is absolute, or if it can be blocked, and we need to test it with someone who hasn¡¯t taken part in the tests yet.¡± ¡±Oh. Okay, so, it won¡¯t explode.¡± James wasn¡¯t sure why they hadn¡¯t led with that part. ¡±Well, it hasn¡¯t exploded so far. It might explode with you holding it.¡± Nik unhelpfully stated as he subconsciously twisted his authority around his fingers like a living string. ¡°But if it does, I¡¯m here to make sure you don¡¯t die?¡± He offered. James stared at them both. ¡°Neither of you are even close to helpful. What does the phone do?¡± ¡±Actually, I¡¯d kind of like to show you?¡± Reed sounded uncomfortable. ¡°This might sound dumb, but I think it¡¯d be better to get your first impression without-¡° ¡±Yeah, I get ya.¡± James cut him off. ¡°I¡¯ve done the whole ¡®teach new people to make magic items¡¯ speech too. Okay. Let¡¯s do this.¡± He picked up the box and strode out across the lanes. The Order¡¯s shooting range was probably the least used part of the Lair; they mostly just used it for testing how much the ¡®friendly fire¡¯ ability on the gun bangles could get away with - a lot, it did work on grenades - and for occasionally getting used to a new skill orb or memory file. Most of the actual accuracy drills that the new security teams did happened elsewhere, delvers just didn¡¯t use guns that much, and Response didn¡¯t even carry guns at all anymore since Harvey had realized that they weren¡¯t using them anyway. James had to admit that he felt a little weird standing in the middle of a place that, when it was used, would have him in the ¡®target¡¯ section. There was even still a scorch mark on the floor nearby from an incendiary grenade. It was a little unsettling. Just as he opened his mouth to complain, he heard Reed call out. ¡°Starting test now!¡± And from inside the box, muffled by the lead lining and Faraday cage, he heard the shrill sound of an old cell phone ringing. Four notes in descending sequence, then again, and again, before one long sustained note. A classic that James hadn¡¯t even realized he remembered the sound of until he heard it again. ¡±Well it worked!¡± He called over. ¡°Also, hey, question! What number does this thing even have?¡± ¡±Oh! I called you!¡± Nik shouted back. James frowned so hard he heard the bones in his jaw grind together, snapping a wide-eyed stared down to look at the sealed box. The phone was still ringing. He pulled out his own cell phone from his pocket, but there was no indication he was being called, or that he even had service down here. ¡±Your phone doesn¡¯t work if you¡¯re holding the other one!¡± Reed yelled. ¡°Also answer it!¡± James really, really did not want to answer it. He felt like this was how horror movies started, or ended, and he didn¡¯t know which was worse. But he still popped the tightly sealed hinges on the box, and carefully cracked it open. The phone inside was grey, vaguely rectangular, and the screen was lit up with a classic green glow as it continued to scream its ringtone at him. James set the box down gently as he hefted the phone, saw Nik¡¯s name on the blocky letters of the caller ID. Then he pushed the button and held the phone up to his ear. ¡±Yeeees?¡± James said, unable to help himself from being at least a little weird. ¡±Hey. So this test is going well.¡± Nik¡¯s voice sounded really clean through the old hardware. But that probably wasn¡¯t all that the dungeontech did; James just wasn¡¯t sure what¡­ He met Nik¡¯s eyes, where the Researcher was standing at the other end of the range behind the safety screen. Arms crossed, no skulljack him, his phone sitting on the wood shelf in front of him. ¡°Nik?¡± ¡±Yeah, hi.¡± Nik¡¯s voice said, as Nik didn¡¯t move in James¡¯ vision. ¡°Right here man.¡± James was capable of moving at a pretty impressive speed, and he had at least one thing boosting his reflexes too, but he was pretty sure he had never in his life moved as fast as he did when he realized that the voice wasn¡¯t coming from the phone, and that Nik was standing just behind him. His blood felt like ice as he whipped around, putting twenty feet between himself and the Nik that had appeared next to him as soon as he¡¯d answered the phone. ¡°What.¡± James said. ¡±Yeah, so, the phone doesn¡¯t actually connect.¡± Nik said. ¡°Or, like, it does. But it does this.¡± He motioned to himself, looking identical to himself on the other end of the room, though missing the solid green light of his authority. ¡±Are you¡­ real?¡± James asked, straightening up out of his battle stance as he realized this was an expected outcome. ¡±Good question!¡± Nik said. ¡°The weird thing is that I can¡¯t develop new feelings like this. So I don¡¯t know. I only even know that because we¡¯ve been testing it before.¡± ¡±Wait, so, you¡¯re a¡­ what, an echo? Are you a ghost?¡± James asked and Nik shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re still alive right there, so probably not a ghost.¡± Nik gave a noncommittal shrug again, and James frowned. ¡°Are you alive? What happens when I hang up? You said you¡¯d been testing this at least a little, so you must know what¡­ what¡­¡± Nik clicked his tongue rapidly. ¡±Oh, we know! I¡¯ll vanish. I mean, me, this iteration of me. Not the real me.¡± ¡±¡­You cannot possibly be okay with that.¡± James whispered in growing horror. ¡±Well, I know from experience that I¡¯ll remember this conversation, kind of. So the emotion I associate with the process is a little trepidation, but also a sense of convenience. But I don¡¯t feel that.¡± James waited, then prompted when Nik went quiet. ¡°Because¡­?¡± ¡±Because these versions of us don¡¯t change.¡± Nik repeated. ¡°So I can¡¯t have new feelings or thoughts.¡± ¡±What did I call you earlier?¡± James asked suddenly. ¡±No idea.¡± Nik said. ¡°Sorry.¡± He sounded genuinely apologetic. Because that¡¯s how Nik would feel about the situation, presumably. James was entirely uncertain what the fuck to make of this, but he didn¡¯t like the idea of making copies of people who called him. Even copies that fed back to their originals, and weren¡¯t bothered by being copies. It felt wrong somehow. For a long time, James had thought of himself as a transhumanist. He knew that he needed a new word for it since ¡®human¡¯ wasn¡¯t the only option anymore, but he still did like a lot of the ideas of pushing the boundaries of what life could be using both tech and magic. But one of the things he¡¯d never liked about many post-singularity fiction was the prevalence of systems that created and destroyed minds for convenience. It felt monstrous. This felt monstrous. In a way, it helped that the simulacra of Nik was acting in ways that were obviously artificial. It had Nik¡¯s personality, and probably most of his memories. Had his mannerisms and shape. But it was lacking a certain curiosity, and like it had told him, it didn¡¯t really learn. Nik would learn from this conversation, but the copy wouldn¡¯t. Hadn¡¯t. But that still didn¡¯t quell the unease in James¡¯ stomach. ¡±I don¡¯t know what to do about this.¡± He finally said. ¡±You can hang up if you want. Or I can take the phone back to them and they can do it.¡± Nik offered. That was a weird comment. ¡°You can carry things?¡± James asked. ¡°Wait, if I hand you the phone, it¡¯s not ¡®my phone¡¯ anymore, how does¡­¡± ¡±The call is in progress, it keeps going. But yeah, it has to be on your person for it to be called with your number. Or for you to call anyone, obviously.¡± Nik said simply. And again James got that sense of lack of interest in the world. Now that he was looking for it, it was kind of obvious. Real Nik would have just held out a hand to take the phone, insisted on it, and taken action, even if it was a little reckless. Or would have speculated along with James, instead of simply stating a fact and then stopping. James took a breath, and looked back down the range to where Reed and actually-Nik were standing. ¡°I have an idea.¡± He called. ¡°Can I just¡­¡± he held up the phone and motioned to it questioningly. ¡±Yeah, just hang up! I wanna know what we talked about!¡± Nik yelled back. Which was not helping James¡¯ sense of dread. He hit the end call button without meeting the simulacra¡¯s eyes. The copy just winked out of existence, along with clothing and whatever was in Nik¡¯s pockets, which meant this wouldn¡¯t be a good way to actually copy things. Then he opened the phone¡¯s contact list and started looking through numbers he had saved. It was¡­ not identical to his own phone; it was sorted differently and was clunkier and worse than a touchscreen. Modern technology had gotten a lot smoother, and it really showed when he was presented with this ancient artifact. But eventually he found a number he was looking for. Nik had said the phone had to be on his person to call anyone. James wasn¡¯t sure if they¡¯d had this idea before. But he decided to take a risk, and hit the button before he could talk himself out of it, holding the phone up to his ear and meeting Reed¡¯s eyes across the room with a grim stare. It rang. And rang. And rang. And then with a click, the call disconnected. No voice mail, no announcement that the number was no longer in service, nothing. It just failed to work. Which was a kind of relief, in a very sad way. James walked back through the shielding and handed the phone and box back to the Research duo. ¡°I think that I don¡¯t wanna know more about this one.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s not¡­ I can see some uses for it. A lot of tactical uses. A copy of a knight that¡¯s not afraid to die is essentially the world¡¯s worst nightmare when it comes to the realm of shock troopers. But I find the ethics of this questionable, and I don¡¯t feel very good about it.¡± He stated honestly, hoping they¡¯d understand. ¡±I hadn¡¯t even thought about combat. Oh, man, you could call Camille.¡± Nik stared off into the distance with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. Reed and James both looked at him, then back at each other. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna touch that.¡± Reed wisely stated, curly hair swishing as he shook his head. ¡°Who¡¯d you try to call anyway? It¡¯s never failed to connect.¡± The amusement James had started to feel was washed away, and he sighed as he looked away, staring at the concrete walls covered in ballistic foam, uncertain if he even should answer. But they deserved to know. ¡°It was just an idea.¡± He said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure what would happen.¡± ¡±Okay, but¡­ who?¡± Reed tactlessly pressed. ¡±I tried to call Virgil.¡± James said. ¡°No answer. Anyway. I have somewhere I need to be. Please don¡¯t do anything evil with the phone. And store this one in the dangerous vault, okay?¡± Reed and Nik didn¡¯t answer him as he walked away. ¡°Oh.¡± Nik said softly after they were the last two left in the cold and open space of the basement. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡±I don¡¯t really feel like testing this any more today.¡± Reed said suddenly, voice coming out too quick. ¡°Let¡¯s get it put away before anyone tries to call me.¡± ____ Camille the¡­ well, just Camille¡­ had been assigned a task to map out the organized crime in the immediate civic area. It was, by her measuring, one of the kindest things that had been done for her since she had come to reside here. The food tasted better. The bed was more comfortable. She had personal space. Those were all creature comforts that she had initially worried would make her soft, but had failed to do so thus far. They were offset by people constantly talking to her, but they meant well, and Cam might be a lot of things, but she wasn¡¯t needlessly violent. And all of that paled in comparison to being given a job that she could use to fill her thoughts to the farthest synapse. She had news articles and blogs to pore over, bribes to pay out and contacts to establish, rumors to follow up on, maps to match to incident reports and stolen police documentation, and sidewalks, dive bars, and back alleys in the thousands to put her feet to. And all the while, she didn¡¯t have to think about anything that wasn¡¯t the job. Camille was a lot of things. But when she was working, she was one thing, and that was working. The nightmares, the intrusive thoughts about what she was supposed to be or how she was incompatible with humanity, the gnawing fear with no source, all of it was locked away for later, for after she had finished the objective. The problem was that the objective was misguided. She¡¯d known it from near the start, but had taken the assignment without questioning it regardless. Modern US cities didn¡¯t have organized crime. Not the way the Order was thinking about it. Gangs existed, as did individuals who were at the center of certain operations. But those gangs weren¡¯t ¡®we run this city¡¯ mafias, and that centrality was in the form of having things orbit you on the org chart, not having all lines lead back to the center of a spider¡¯s web. Even in major cities, the organization of ¡®organized crime¡¯ was disturbingly similar to the Order¡¯s own hierarchy. There were people who could call for action, and be listened to. There were people who were in control of certain facets, especially when it came to money or product. There were inarguably some individuals with more hard power than others. But there wasn¡¯t a single easy to parse chart. Camille couldn¡¯t give the intelligence division what they were looking for, she couldn¡¯t tell them that she knew who had signed off on the people that had taken money to attack the Lair. Nor could she promise that she¡¯d see it coming if they were to attack again. For all the resources she was given beyond anything that her father had ever allowed, all she really had was an ever shifting, slowly filling map of names and places. And maybe a slight understanding of the general pulse of things. For now, she worked in a partitioned part of the surface level of Lair, in a warehouse. It was lit well enough, and today being a warm summer day, the shutters on the loading dock had been opened up for more light and air. Others bustled around the place, planning delves, unpacking objects of unknown power, introducing new members to certain things. Camille ignored them all. She¡¯d heard that Ben was planning to get them a location at another site, or perhaps in one of the basements. And the privacy would be welcome. Though, Camille had started to get used to the¡­ it wasn¡¯t chaos, exactly. Color? The ebb and flow of people, even ones she wouldn¡¯t have considered as people before being ordered to, all of them here to turn information into preparation and plan, and then to act on it. She could admire that. She could even admire the messy functionality of outfits that were half dungeontech, half personal style. ¡°Oh, hey Cam.¡± Simon¡¯s voice directed right at her was enough to be a distraction. A man made athletic by constant dungeon delving, along with some strange magic Cam had heard alluded to, Simon made repeated attempts to be friendly to her, despite her best efforts to fail to socialize. Camille had learned through her network of informants within the Lair that Momo had suggested it, for an unknown reason. She wasn¡¯t quite willing to take action yet, especially since Simon was easily the least frustrating distraction available. Unlike the rapidly growing paper drakes, he left if you told him too. ¡°You¡¯re back fast.¡± Cam stopped being mildly irritated, and let her thoughts kick into analysis of that weird statement. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for¡­¡± she checked the phone they¡¯d given her. ¡°¡­eighteen hours.¡± ¡±¡­I¡­ uh¡­¡± Simon was made distinctly uncomfortable by that for at least two reasons. ¡°Okay. I know you probs don¡¯t need as much sleep, but you at least ate something, right?¡± The concern for her well being was frustrating. Because she liked it. It made her angry to enjoy the simple fact that someone was checking on her needs, which was irrational and stupid, which made her angrier. Which might have come across in her look unintentionally as she gave a sharp nod in reply. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m not starving, thank you.¡± Camille said. ¡°What did you mean that I am back fast?¡± She decided to directly attack the thing that had caught her attention. ¡±I was just over at the library - the normal real library, not the Stacks - and I saw you there. I waved, but you didn¡¯t see me. Figured you were getting coffee or something. In your armor. That you¡¯re not wearing.¡± ¡±When was this?¡± ¡±Five minutes ago.¡± Simon looked resigned to the inevitable trajectory of this conversation. ¡°So¡­ want me to get some knights?¡± Cam didn¡¯t have the authority to answer that. ¡°I need to talk to Nate.¡± She said. ¡°Now.¡± Nate had apparently been enjoying one of his precious days off, lounging on the roof and drinking beer with a camraconda that talked about as little as he did. He showed up in the warehouse within three minutes of Cam¡¯s declaration, looking unfazed in his Hawaiian shirt and showing off how much chest hair he had. And Cam made his day worse instantly. ¡°One of my sisters is in the city.¡± She said. ¡±When you say city,¡± Nate asked, taking it in stride without missing a beat, ¡°do you mean the greater Portland metro area, or do you mean this city.¡± ¡±Simon?¡± Cam looked at where the man had wandered to a nearby desk and was staring at a small mirror on it. ¡±Huh? Oh. This city. By the library, heading south.¡± Simon said, pulling his gaze away from himself. Nate nodded. ¡°Alright.¡± He said. ¡°Cam, come with me.¡± He started walking, and she stood and fell in with him, leaving Simon behind, wondering if he should just wait there. Silently except for the sound of punching out a text to Ben, the big man took them down a flight of stairs, through about two hundred meters of artificial hallway, past a human and camraconda duo who looked incredibly guilty about whatever they were getting up to in this abandoned stretch of hall, down another staircase, and eventually to a room with a heavy locked door that Nate had the key to. He held it open for her, and then followed her in, revealing a tiny room with a couch, a chair, a tv, and a mini fridge. ¡°Welcome to my secret office.¡± Nate said. ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone.¡± Camille nodded solemnly. ¡°That was mostly a joke. This is about as secret as Bill¡¯s ability to keep his mouth shut. Just thought you might like some privacy.¡± He kicked his fridge open with the toe of his shoe. ¡°Want a drink?¡± He offered her a can of¡­ non alcoholic lemonade, which Cam found out of character. She still took it, as Nate dropped into the armchair. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ve mostly avoided asking to give you space. But I need a report on your sisters, and their capabilities.¡± ¡±I would have given that at any time.¡± Cam said. ¡±You probably also would have told me you weren¡¯t human at any time.¡± Nate said bluntly, staring at the wall as he did so but keeping Camille in the corner of his eye just enough to notice her slight pause. ¡°But I decided to be an asshole and steal your medical records instead.¡± ¡±I¡¯m¡­¡± Cam seemed almost hesitant to him. ¡°I don¡¯t actually¡­¡± she wasn¡¯t exactly expressing any kind of distress, more like she was starting sentences and then abandoning them for better options. ¡°My biology doesn¡¯t matter.¡± She eventually settled on, stating it like a challenge. ¡°Though if you had asked me, I would have lied by mistake.¡± ¡±¡­shit. Sorry, kid.¡± Nate said, bluntly honest empathy in his words. ¡°Fuck me, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d react that calmly to news like that.¡± Camille laughed, a loud hyena¡¯s bark of bitter amusement. ¡°If it were even three months ago, I wouldn¡¯t.¡± She said. ¡°But it didn¡¯t take you long to remake me, did it?¡± ¡°Guess not.¡± Nate cracked the can of lemonade he¡¯d been rolling in his meaty hand and took a drink. ¡°Okay, don¡¯t wanna think about that. What can you tell me about your sisters?¡± He paused. ¡°Broad overview first. Power rangers bullshit second.¡± She didn¡¯t know what that meant, but could infer, because Cam was smarter than most people gave her credit for. ¡°Sisters are added to our ranks whenever one falls, and there is a clear one month delay between new additions. Though we are not supposed to notice that.¡± She started. ¡°When we awaken, we are told that something has damaged our memory, but that we are the loyal child of the Last Line of Defense. This is backed up by what I believe are bits of artificially implanted memory, and the self-perpetuating lie from the other sisters. At that point we are given our designation and our armor, and a certain useful power, before we are added to the training and assignment rotation.¡± Cam spoke like she was giving any daily report. Cold, collected, purposeful. Nate tipped his can at her. ¡°Take your time if you need it.¡± He said. ¡°You¡¯ve got enough on your mind, probably.¡± Entirely failing to heed his offer, Camille continued. ¡°Camilles are difficult to injure, as you may have noticed. Weapons forged without intent cannot harm us, and this extends to our armor as well. Below the armor, our bodies are exceptionally resistant to everything but certain materials. I don¡¯t know all of them, for security reasons, but I am aware that both silver and citrus are on the list.¡± Stopping with his mostly empty drink halfway tipped into his lips, Nate closed his mouth, slammed his can down on the top of the minifridge, and threw the appliance¡¯s door open again to grab a different can out of it. Leaning forward, he made a grabbing motion and pointed at Cam¡¯s hand, until she realized what he wanted and relinquished the can of lemonade she¡¯d been given, and had it replaced by some kind of Mexican soda. ¡°Fucking dumbass.¡± Nate muttered. ¡±¡­I am not allergic to lemons.¡± Cam said after the entire process had completed. ¡°But if you wanted to weaken me preemptively, yes, feeding me lemons would help. So would coating bullets in lemon juice.¡± ¡±You know, I used to just follow around racist bikers to make sure they weren¡¯t going to blow up churches.¡± Nate confided in her apropos of nothing. ¡°My life was normal.¡± ¡±No it wasn¡¯t.¡± The pure calculated certainty of her words was like an emotional guillotine. ¡°To continue. Camilles are faster and stronger than mundane humans, but our lack of history or memory makes us¡­ unstable. Or so we are told.¡± Nate muttered to himself. ¡°Good method of control. Cuts you off from anyone else, encourages you to feel as little as possible. Makes you susceptible to orders. You¡¯re close to a perfect soldier, as long as you stay on task.¡± A slow nod. ¡°There are things I do not know, obviously.¡± Cam continued. ¡°Where we are from, why my sisters are never allowed to develop past certain ages - though I suspect I know that one. I also do not know where our father gets our abilities from, but I know how they are used and assigned.¡± ¡±Right. So, Azure, you. Some kind of sensory boost?¡± ¡±They are all sensory boosts.¡± Camille said, focusing on the words and not the building anger in her chest. Anger that wasn¡¯t for Nate, but would have her lashing out at him anyway if she didn¡¯t contain it. ¡°Azures have two that work in tandem. Breacher sense and fortune sense. The former tells me when and where within a structure there will be threats, complications to incursion, and targets. The latter guides me toward things that will progress my own objectives. Both can be extended to other people, at the cost of draining faster.¡± She met Nate¡¯s eyes. ¡°Dungeons qualify as structures.¡± She added. He hissed in a breath. ¡°Christ. Okay, I don¡¯t know what kind of syntax you¡¯ve got on those, to badly steal a term from Research, but we¡¯ll dig into that later. The others?¡± ¡±Violets have assault sense, allowing them to know enemy force composition and strength while in the planning stages of an attack. Ochres have demolition sense, which identifies weak spots in constructions over a certain size, and with training can be pushed to find alternate ways to topple structures. Crimsons have another complementary pair, path sense letting them follow backward the paths of people or things, and victim sense allowing them to find individuals who are at immediate risk, or have suffered, violence. And Ambers have oddity sense for things that are out of place, which is often used as part of scouting for dungeon breaches.¡± ¡±How many of your sisters are there at any time?¡± Nate questioned suddenly. ¡±Five.¡± Camille answered instantly. And then, after only a tiny hesitation, added, ¡°Five per family.¡± Nate folded his arms. ¡°Cam.¡± He said with blunt irritation. ¡°Little late for feeling bad now.¡± Her mouth twitched in a frown. He was right though. ¡°During our initial training, we are not told about the other¡­ cells, for lack of a better term. It is only after our father is certain of our loyalty that we are told that we are not the only ones. By that point, the obvious facts that we are artificial, and expendable, seem secondary. Those are the five Camilles that were in my grouping, and I was the third Azure they had. I am aware there are at least two other families, but not what designations they use. I know our father keeps the senses consistent between designations.¡± ¡±Christ.¡± Nate ran a hand over his bald head. ¡°Okay. You said you needed to talk to me. You think you know why this one¡¯s showing up.¡± ¡±If she¡¯s an Amber, she¡¯ll notice the Order rapidly.¡± Cam said. ¡°It¡¯s unlikely the Last Line is¡­ unaware of you. But the less he knows, the better. If it¡¯s a Crimson, it¡¯s likely that she is here for me, specifically.¡± Camille said. ¡°It is very likely that is the case, and she is here to kill me.¡± Nate stood. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°Not that you go out much, but you¡¯re grounded for a week or so until we sort this shit out.¡± The man¡¯s voice sounded outwardly calm, but there was a dark anger in it that made Cam¡¯s skin crawl. ¡±¡­I apologize.¡± She said, inclining her chin, refusing to look at the floor. ¡±Fuck that.¡± Nate said. ¡°You¡¯re not the one here to kill one of your own sisters.¡± He caught her mildly confused look. ¡°What, you think I¡¯m not the same kind of sappy dumbass everyone else here is? Come on.¡± The words ran together as he affected a Bostonian accent. ¡°I¡¯m an asshole, I know it, you know it, but even assholes don¡¯t try to gank their own family.¡± Nate headed for the door, flicking a finger against the dungeontech wall clock stuck at six o¡¯five that prevented sound from escaping the room. ¡°You can relax here until you feel alright. After that, before you get back to work, which I know you¡¯ll try to do anyway, I¡¯m making this an official order; get your fucking armory kit and get used to it. Orbs, bracer, earring, potions, Climb and Route spells, don¡¯t fucking slack off on it. Got it?¡± It hadn¡¯t even occurred to Camille that she was allowed access to most of that, even though she¡¯d been told it was okay a few times. Nate, though, was staring at her and pointing like he was making a demand, not providing a casual offer. Which meant she probably couldn¡¯t keep being afraid of the magic forever. ¡±Yes sir.¡± She said, professional and collected and certainly without anything else in her voice. Nate pursed his lips, but didn¡¯t say anything else. He just nodded and frowned, before heading out and shutting the door loudly behind him. Camille didn¡¯t expect today to take this shape when it had started. But she¡¯d do what she always did. React appropriately, and get through it. Don¡¯t let herself feel anything that might compromise the operation. She popped the lid off the soda she¡¯d been handed with a fingernail, and tilted her head back to awkwardly drink from the glass bottle. It took her a couple tries to figure it out; she¡¯d never had one of these before. But when she did, she downed it in almost a continuous set of gulps. It was delicious. _____ James was ambushed as he headed back through Research, supposedly to talk to one of Momo¡¯s people about something. He had just turned a corner and was passing by the door to the stairwell that led either back to the real upstairs, or down to the residential basement, and was thinking about how many stairwells they had in this building, when the door popped open and a pair of people neatly slid into step on either side of him. ¡°Sooooo.¡± Anesh said coyly, trying to lean his head on James¡¯ arm and failing as James just kept walking, though with an amused smile on his face now. ¡°How was your night?¡± ¡±Your night with Arrush!¡± Keeka added from the other side, two of his smaller hands clamping onto James¡¯ arm. ¡°For clarity!¡± He¡¯d recently heard Anesh say ¡®for clarity¡¯ in conversation and had found the words to be delightful to repeat. James kept smiling, but here in this pleasant underground afternoon and not empowered by the comforting nature of what it was like to be alone with someone at midnight, he did blush a little. Or maybe a lot. ¡°Okay, now hang on!¡± He laughed, trying to cover his embarrassment. ¡°I dropped Arrush off at your place hours ago, surely you could have asked him this.¡± ¡±I was busy with actually finally using my degree to tutor students.¡± Anesh said, adjusting the neck of his polo shirt. ¡°And Keeka was busy with pottery.¡± ¡±I made a vase!¡± ¡±So we missed Arrush, who I think is in one of these basements, but we found you first.¡± ¡±And now you have to tell us!¡± James sighed contentedly. ¡°This is what I needed.¡± He said to the air in front of him. ¡°This is the perfect antidote to existential dread. Also you two are so fucking cute. You know that?¡± ¡±Now hang on.¡± Anesh staunchly protested. ¡°I am not cute, and also we¡¯re asking the questions here.¡± ¡±It¡¯s an interrogation!¡± Keeka added joyfully. He looked at the two as they circled ahead of him to block his path. ¡°Is there any way I could convince you that I¡¯m on the way to circumvent a world ending disaster, and that we should do this later?¡± ¡±Not really.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Because I get the same alerts that you do.¡± James sighed again, shaking his head but not losing the smile. ¡°We had a nice dinner, went on a long walk, and talked about a bunch of stuff. Then we got a good night¡¯s sleep, and cuddled a bunch. Sorry, nothing lustfully salacious occured. As far as you get to know.¡± He added under his breath. Anesh have a small breath of laughter as Keeka sulked. He met James¡¯ eyes, and smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad you had a good date.¡± Suddenly, James was worried that he¡¯d seen a bit of regret in Anesh¡¯s eyes. ¡°You okay?¡± He asked. ¡±Oh, yeah! I-¡° ¡±Do you want to go get pizza and go on a long walk and talk about stuff and then go to bed together and cuddle?¡± James asked, feeling that confidence coming back to him. At Anesh¡¯s side, Keeka looked up at him and nodded so vigorously that James worried the ratroach was going to snap his antenna off. Anesh gave a much more earnest laugh. ¡°Actually, yeah, I would. That sounds properly nice. You know, every time I think I have regrets about anything, you just make me feel properly nice?¡± ¡±It¡¯s my superpower. Now, I actually am supposed to be going to meet Momo and her coven, so¡­¡± ¡±Yes, yes, you¡¯ve paid your toll.¡± Anesh stepped aside, magnanimously waving James through, and unable to hide a smile that showed up as his boyfriend gave him a firm kiss on the way past. ¡°Have fun!¡± He called after James. Just before James could turn the corner, he heard Keeka¡¯s sudden chittering behind him as the ratroach realized something. ¡°We didn¡¯t ask if they kissed!¡± He told Anesh. ¡±Ah, you¡¯re right, we didn¡¯t. Next time!¡± He heard Anesh say before he was out of range of even his improved hearing. Shaking his head, but feeling much better from the small encounter, James let himself feel okay for a bit as he walked. The thought of the existential dread the dungeon cell phone had put in his head was still there, but between the little boost from his boyfriend, and his new Sewer based Energy improvement, he was feeling ready for anything as he wound through the maze of hallways to the familiar location of the room Momo had claimed for her chunk of Research to work on weird applications of things. ¡±Oh good, you¡¯re here.¡± Juan said as James walked in, not turning from where he was sitting cross legged on a beanbag chair and either having a staring contest with Ink-And-Key, or deep in thought about something. ¡±Yes, welcome.¡± Ink-And-Key did actually look up and nod at James. The camraconda was wearing one of the mechanical arm backpacks, and he unfolded a slender limb to hold something out to James. ¡°We need you to stand here and hold this.¡± He said, offering James a red orb. James pressed his fingertips into his forehead, not quite burying his face in his hands, but certainly shaking in laughter for a reason the two boys would have no idea about. ¡°Why wasn¡¯t that on my list of things I expected to hear down here?¡± He asked. ¡±Lack of prior experience?¡± Juan offered. ¡°Misunderstanding of mission statement?¡± Ink-And-Key submitted. ¡±You¡¯re dumb sometimes?¡± Momo added coming in the door right behind James and hip checking him forward as she balanced a computer tablet, a digital table, a tray of food from upstairs, and a sealed cardboard tube under her arm. ¡°Also hey. Did they show you the thing yet?¡± James took the red orb Ink-And-Key was holding out to him and stood in the middle of the two guys with a resigned roll of his eyes. ¡°What am I doing.¡± He asked. ¡°Cool.¡± Juan said, grabbing a laptop he had close at hand. ¡°Close your eyes. Ink¡¯s gonna give you math problems, your only job is to focus on telling me the answers.¡± He pushed a button and a low droning hum started playing. ¡±I¡¯m bad at-¡° ¡°Hush.¡± Ink-And-Key said, and then started feeding James simple addition and subtraction problems. James wasn¡¯t sure what he was doing exactly, but the white noise was relaxing, closing his eyes let him pretend he was napping, and the math was simple enough that he didn¡¯t have much trouble processing it. It took him a minute or two, but he managed to stop being either curious or bored, and just existed, taking numbers in and putting numbers out, in a relaxing state. Though he figured he¡¯d need some water soon if he kept having to talk. He didn¡¯t have to wait long. It was almost by accident that he felt the orb start to slip into his palm, and nearly a reflex that led him to grab it and pull it into his body all the way. Knowing now that it was actually literally inside him was a little weird, but not nearly as weird as the ringing thought that arced across his mind as he successfully absorbed a red orb for the first time. [+8 Interrogations : Height] ¡±Huh! Synchronicity!¡± James said as he opened his eyes and Juan killed the thrumming white noise. ¡±Oh dear. That sounds dangerous.¡± Ink-And-Key said, the massive camraconda edging backward away from James and using his own beanbag chair as light cover. Momo came to James¡¯ rescue, hopping off the workbench she was sitting on and swishing her mage¡¯s bathrobe around her as she did. ¡°Nah, you¡¯re fine. He means he heard the word earlier. Which one?¡± ¡±Interrogation. And actually just a minute ago.¡± James said. ¡°So, how¡¯s this¡­ work? I just look at things and know how tall they are?¡± Instead of waiting for an answer, he focused on Momo and tried to figure out the many ways he might ask the magic to tell him how tall she was. It actually didn¡¯t take long, mostly because it was a lot like using a blue orb. If you could absorb one without help, then you could use one without help too. ¡°Oh! It¡¯s in centimeters! One sixty point six, huh?¡± ¡±Oh! I hate you!¡± Momo exclaimed delightedly. ¡°You know we haven¡¯t found a purple that makes you taller yet, and I hate it? I mean, I don¡¯t mind being short, but it¡¯s kinda bullshit that Inky gets to be taller than me while two thirds of him is laying down.¡± ¡±I offered to trade.¡± Ink-And-Key told her. ¡°I was not kidding. You could be this large, right now.¡± His mechanical arms swished out to display his glorious white cable form. James nodded along, half listening to the duo bantering or bickering as he tried to figure out if there was any kind of feedback or use counter. But no, just like with absorbed blues, you better be paying attention at the start, or you weren¡¯t going to know what was up. ¡°Well.¡± He said, cutting off Momo saying something about getting big boots that he had only half heard. ¡°This is really cool. I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s a different question for each orb?¡± ¡±Oh, yeah.¡± Juan answered him, also ignoring his compatriots. ¡°Sorry, this is gonna go on for a while. You set off a trap.¡± ¡±This happens a lot?¡± ¡±One of them¡¯s huge, one of them¡¯s smol, it comes up more often than you¡¯d think.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Anyway, cool, right?¡± ¡±Oh yeah. How¡¯d you figure it out?¡± ¡±Unrelated goofing around with hypnotic states.¡± It was kinda interesting how Juan¡¯s tone stayed exactly as relaxed and easy as he explained more complex topics. ¡°This one doesn¡¯t exactly rewrite the common theory, but it does add to it.¡± James nodded, reaching out a foot to hook the edge of the abandoned beanbag that Ink-And-Key had been using and pulling it over to have a place to sit. ¡°Yeah, I get that. Absorbing requires a specific mindset. Needing time for yellows, needing tools for blue, needing something to do for oranges¡­ hmm, this one doesn¡¯t quite fit that pattern does it?¡± ¡±It¡¯s also usually people thinking of themselves as utile, for blues, and as part of a complex working for oranges.¡± Juan corrected. ¡°This one, we¡¯ve found works best when you¡¯re a processor of information. So, yeah, breathing exercises and math problems.¡± ¡°Huh. You know, I kinda expected these to make matter?¡± James offered. ¡±Why?¡± ¡±Because reds come from the traps in the Office, and those seem to regenerate if left unattended.¡± ¡±¡­Weird.¡± ¡±You¡¯re telling me. Sometimes I have this strong suspicion that the dungeon just straight up didn¡¯t complete the full grid of uses, just to screw with us.¡± James admitted. ¡°Like, we know that yellow can be absorbed, turned into lil guys, or cracked, right? But we¡¯ve never seen a yellow totem, and have no idea how to even start on that. Blues, also no totem, and most of them have yellow effects folded in, for some reason. Purples? No idea how to absorb them or make a totem, though I suspect that we shouldn¡¯t be doing that last one anyway.¡± ¡±We know all the uses for oranges though.¡± Juan pointed out. ¡±Ah! You¡¯d think so, but no! There¡¯s absolutely lil guys out there with orange orbs as part of them, but-¡° Juan cut him off, turning the laptop to show him an image of a roomba-shaped beetle the size of a large and particularly angry bear. ¡°Lil guy.¡± He said dryly. ¡±Yeah, exactly. Good example! But they always have extra orange orbs, not only orange orbs. Anyway, my point is, I don¡¯t think the Office planned this out completely. Or, maybe more accurately, I wonder if it left gaps intentionally that it could fill itself if it wanted more tools later.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡±If I went into dungeons I¡¯d be worried!¡± Juan said as he spun his laptop back around, closed it, and set it next to his seat. James studied him carefully, especially the pair of small scars on his cheek not quite covered up by Juan¡¯s growing goatee. ¡°You do go into dungeons.¡± ¡±Uh, yeah. And it worries me.¡± He replied. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Anyway. Momo!¡± The last word was yelled across the room, interrupting the escalating argument that Momo and Ink-And-Key were having. ¡°Didn¡¯t you want to tell James something? He¡¯s not gonna be here all day!¡± ¡±My seat¡­¡± Ink-And-Key said in a forlorn digital voice as he looked back and realized James had stolen his resting spot. ¡°Momo he stole my seat.¡± The heavy camraconda abandoned any irritation in favor of making a small plea to the woman who was technically in charge here. ¡±James you self-righteous twit how dare yo- oh, you¡¯re already moving, okay I take back what I said. You¡¯re a good boss.¡± Momo shot him a thumbs up and reached over to grab one of the two tablets she¡¯d added to a stack of random stuff on one of the workspaces in the cozy side room. ¡°So! If you¡¯ve been paying attention to your magical cybernetic, you probably noticed that the webcam feed for the Stacks tablet is off.¡± James hadn¡¯t, but he checked compulsively anyway. A new emerald chip program had replaced one of the parts of the skulljack braid that worked with opening up video files, and he was getting used to how easy it had become. ¡°So, you didn¡¯t call me here to tell me about red orbs?¡± He asked, kind of impressed. ¡±No, I figured that out while you were on the way.¡± Juan said, clearly smug about it. ¡±We should pay you guys more. What¡¯s the tablet do?¡± James cut through to the point with a wary smile. He was really hoping that he wasn¡¯t about to get a second existential crisis about a major piece of dungeontech today. ¡±Tells you how to make things.¡± Momo said simply, watching James carefully. His shoulders sagged in relief, and also a little in disappointment. ¡°Oh. Okay, that¡¯s¡­ neat?¡± ¡±Yeah. Whatever you ask it about, probably. Though we only have one example so far.¡± Momo said, waiting for James to make the connection. ¡°It takes a while. That blue glowing line on the outside is a loading bar, sorta. And then the tablet basically scrolls like a clay touchscreen. Mars set something up to automate scanning the whole data package that it gave us today before I brought it here.¡± ¡±Okay. Wait, how much did it tell¡­ wait.¡± ¡±Oh, he remembered!¡± Ink-And-Key excitedly announced. James had remembered. Because he¡¯d been there when they¡¯d grabbed the thing. ¡°The first thing anyone asked around it was what the hell is this thing.¡± ¡±Corrrrrrrect!¡± Momo declared. ¡°Want to make more of them?¡± She asked. ¡±Fucking how?!¡± Momo looked down at the tablet she¡¯d picked up, her finger moving across the clay surface and shifting the imprinted lines in it that formed words and symbols. The tablet, James noticed with some deep relief, was actually enclosed in one of those hard shell cases for protecting electronic devices from such trivial things like ¡®being hit with several hammers¡¯ or ¡®nuclear war¡¯. So it was nice to know that Research had at least seen the value in this enough to secure it somewhat. ¡°Uh¡­ good fucking question TBH.¡± Momo said. ¡°I mean, a lot of this isn¡¯t English. A lot of it¡¯s kinda pictographic? So I¡¯ll let you know in the future. I don¡¯t even know if we can make one of these ourselves, if it uses actual magic. But it¡¯s absolutely an instruction manual, even if I¡¯m too dumb to get it. Anyway, what do we ask it next?¡± ¡±¡­I feel like you can¡¯t just spring this on me.¡± James said. ¡°Also this is literally one of those things Research is supposed to determine themselves. Though that said, you should test it on something simple and mundane to see if you¡¯re actually right about what it¡¯s doing, and also to see if the timer was only set at a month and a half or whatever it was because it was a powerful magic item.¡± ¡±Good call.¡± Juan said, sending exactly that sentence into Research¡¯s chat server through his skulljack. He got a rapid reply from Ink-And-Key chastising him for taking credit for something James said, and the two of them fell quiet as they went back to talking to each other and the rest of the basement¡¯s denizens digitally. James looked between them, then back to Momo. ¡°Alright. Good work. This one is way less spooky.¡± He said. ¡°Anything else for me?¡± ¡±Nah, I¡¯ve got a date in a minute.¡± Momo said. ¡°Soon as Dave gets here. Oh! Wait, no! You¡¯re wrong!¡± ¡±¡­What?¡± ¡±About the summoning phone! You¡¯re wrong about it.¡± Momo straightened up, looking like she might actually be a little afraid of the response to her statement. ¡°It¡¯s not your call if - that¡¯s not a pun - if people think it¡¯s okay to use it themselves. It¡¯s not your choice how we choose to live with stuff like this. And you don¡¯t get to tell us what to not test out, because you explicitly chose not to be in charge when you chose to be a paladin. You do not get to tell us what to do.¡± Momo declared, building up an almost shaking defensive anger as she talked. For a brief moment, James had a flash of annoyance that bordered on real anger. Because everyone kept asking him to take a leadership role, and now he was being told this. But he caught himself when he realized he was about to lash out, at least one red orb letting him recognize what he was feeling and why just a moment before he said something he couldn¡¯t take back. And he used that moment to think about it. He hated that phone suddenly, though he wasn¡¯t sure how much of it was getting defensive in the face of Momo¡¯s tone. He hated the idea of making whole people just to blip them out of existence with the push of a button, even if those people didn¡¯t ¡®care¡¯, exactly. It might even be worse because they couldn¡¯t care, because that implied that if you could make someone not care about themself, then it was okay to use them like a tool, and James found that to be a potential path that he would fucking burn the world down before he let humanity walk. But he also wasn¡¯t a dictator. Momo was right. He wasn¡¯t their boss, not really. He was here to help everyone, and maybe his own discretion meant that he wouldn¡¯t help with this particular research project, but it also meant that he didn¡¯t have a right to put a stop to it. At most, he could call for a general vote, and present his case, but¡­ for all the new and radical ideas that the Order was trying to put into action, they were in many ways a democracy, and James wasn¡¯t allowed to make unilateral decisions. So, to Momo¡¯s surprise, James undermined all of that anxiety by nodding. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°I mean, yeah, you¡¯re right. You are literally right! My job isn¡¯t to be in charge.¡± James sighed and looked at the other two, still half online as they went back to their own work, then back to Momo. ¡°You¡¯re right. Sorry. Actually.¡± ¡±¡­I hate when you do that.¡± She said. ¡±You know, sometimes, you say literally the same stuff as El does, and I think you two are either perfect for each other, or going to self-destruct so spectacularly.¡± James said offhandedly. ¡°Also why are you going on a date with Dave? Is this the romance explosion? Am I witness to the end times?¡± Momo threw something from one of her pockets at him, and James dodged a pen only to have it whip back around and strike him in the back of the head with a light impact. ¡°Oh fuck you!¡± Momo said, but without any heat or hostility. ¡°And no, no one¡¯s dating Dave! We just need to borrow Pendragon to get some altitude! And before you ask, yes, Deb¡¯s coming along to make sure we don¡¯t kill ourselves. God, you¡¯re like the Order¡¯s dad sometimes.¡± ¡±He absolutely did not ask you that, nor was he planning to.¡± Ink-And-Key called over without looking away from whatever he was doing. ¡±Oh.¡± Momo said. ¡°Well whatever. I¡¯ll be fine. Anyway, I gotta go return this, and get the next thing started on it! I just figured I¡¯d hit you guys up on the way past!¡± ¡±That¡¯s not what you told me.¡± Juan said with narrowed eyes, hand frozen midway through scratching at his meticulously sculpted facial hair. ¡°Momo, do you even remember what plans you made?¡± ¡±Uh, yeah dude, I remember I¡¯m going out with my incredibly hot girlfriend.¡± Momo said. ¡°That¡¯s literally the only thing that matters.¡± ¡±No, Momo, you can¡¯t¡­¡± Juan stopped talking as Momo slipped out the door, one hand sticking back through the gap to wave at them. ¡°¡­she scares me sometimes.¡± He said. Ink-And-Key gave a long and tired hiss as he spoke. ¡°She seems so much less sad now that she is not alone, so I do not want to hurt her. But I worry. What if she hurts herself? I do not want to lose more friends.¡± The camraconda¡¯s brutal emotional honesty brought a silence after it that lingered in the air. Until James had to ask. ¡°Okay, seriously, what the fuck is she doing today? Is she going skydiving out of a dragon? Because I¡¯m starting to think Momo¡¯s cooler than me.¡± ¡±She did not say.¡± Ink-And-Key gave another tired hiss. James just nodded quietly. That had been¡­ well, a deeply Momo interaction. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m gonna head out. Oh, one more thing! What¡¯s the red absorb limit like?¡± ¡±Oh, uh, seems the same as blues so far.¡± Juan answered after a moment. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s easier than orange. Oh hey, before you go, do you have a delve slot open for the Sewer tomorrow?¡± ¡±Not actually my delve this week, you¡¯ll have to ask¡­¡± James checked his roster, and couldn¡¯t find a name. ¡°Huh. Hang on.¡± He shot a mental message off to Sarah, who he somehow figured would just know this. And was vindicated almost right away. ¡°Well shit. Ask Momo.¡± ¡±¡­Nah.¡± ¡±Maybe a good idea.¡± James gave them one last wave, and headed out. ____ Rufus had a problem. Actually, Rufus had a few problems, which was how he¡¯d gotten into this situation. The smallest problem, which had kicked it off, was that for some reason, he had ended up being one of the people who was supposed to teach a variety of individuals who were at maturity step two about plants. Step two was ¡®young human child¡¯. Capable of independent action, but benefiting from close supervision, and with an incomplete view of the world that meant learning was especially impactful. Rufus liked people in that bracket. They had an easier time understanding him, which was good, because despite his new emote keyboard, he still couldn¡¯t properly communicate. He should have been annoyed by that, he realized. But thinking about it at all was a challenge, and often times it slipped away from his bite, so he just lived with it and the Order did what they always did and accommodated him. So he needed to teach. That was okay, he could do that. But the selection of plants that Rufus and Fredrick were growing and working with in their empowered basement greenhouse were¡­ not useful to learn about. Not for children. Which had created a new problem. But not in the idea department, at least. Rufus had been doing a lot of the research and data collation for the Order¡¯s rapidly coalescing plan to begin operating a dedicated place of education, so he had a good picture in mind of how to begin with engaging children. The idea was to spark interest in different ways, then allow for different methods to dig into the information. To that end, beginning with a ¡®field trip¡¯, transitioning to conversational and book learning, and then back to another adventure to apply what had been learned, seemed like a coherent and simple lesson plan. The first hurdle had come when Rufus had just wanted to scout out a spot and get a good foundation for what he needed to prepare in terms of class materials. He¡¯d chosen a local park that had a winding trail, and a decent amount of dedication to maintaining the nature within it. While exploring with Fredrick¡¯s help, the stuff animal having far better range with his binocular vision, the duo had - in between sneaking past human joggers who wouldn¡¯t understand a stapler and a small animal amalgam - been charged by a very upset dog. The dog had a leash, and despite being frantic and distressed, Fredrick had still managed to calm it down after it had bowled into the two of them and sent Rufus skittering across the packed trail path with a broken leg. He¡¯d been feeling uncharitable, but the way the dog seemed intent on dashing away from them, and how Fredrick was giving him one of those looks that said that they should see what was wrong, Rufus decided to follow as best they could. The stuff animal helped him along, supporting his growing weight mostly needlessly, because his other flexible pen legs still worked even if one was out of commission for now. The dog - the collar said his name was Rusty - kept having to run back to them before leading them forward again, and they rapidly ended up off the trail and down a steep slope of wet dirt and thick undergrowth, heading for the sound of flowing water down below. At the bottom of the ravine, they found the next problem. A woman, lying having just barely dragged herself out of the water. One leg was bent in a twisted wreckage, and she was bleeding from her forehead. She looked up as Rufus and Fredrick followed the dog - probably her dog - up to her. ¡±I told you to go get¡­¡± she started to say, voice midway between panic and exasperation. Then she saw Fredrick, and, even with the stuff animal keeping most of his spider limbs folded behind his back, she still took one look at the salamander maw and dexterous raccoon paws holding her dog¡¯s leash, and started screaming. So the dog started barking, and Fredrick started making some kind of panicked noise as well, and Rufus felt like maybe there was a larger concern at play here. Ignoring the screams, Rufus reared up onto his hind legs to catch Fredrick before he could turn and bolt. The stuff animal was already apprehensive about being outside and away from the Order, and this wasn¡¯t exactly helping. So Rufus steadied him, and then got him to sit thirty feet away on a rock so that his smock wouldn¡¯t get even more mud and pine needles in it. Then he walked up to the dog, who was still howling, and made a ¡®sit¡¯ gesture with his foreleg. It took two tries before Rusty acknowledge him, but the bony brown furred shape got it on the third try and slowly settled down. Then Rufus turned to the woman, who was staring at him open mouthed, and still making upset human noises, and crossed his forelegs at her. ¡±W-what¡­ are you?¡± She gasped out. Rufus rolled his eye. This was exactly the kind of poor prioritization of needs that caused humans so much trouble in their daily lives. He would have handed her one of his business cards, but they were in the satchel that his friend was wearing and therefore thirty feet away on a rock. So instead, he just broadcast exasperation at her until she calmed down. It was hard, Rufus had realized, to find someone alien and scary, when they were casually annoyed with you. He wasn¡¯t surprised it worked, but he was gratified by it. ¡±My leg.¡± The woman said, getting onto the right target. ¡°I think I broke it. Can you get someone to help me?¡± Rufus held up his legs in an X, then pointed at her and tried to indicate motion. ¡°I can¡¯t walk!¡± She sounded like the only reason she wasn¡¯t crying was because she¡¯d already drained her reserve of tears. Rufus rolled his eye. Of course she couldn¡¯t walk. He motioned for Fredrick to come back over, and after the stuff animal did, trying nervously to hide his face, Rufus started digging around in the carrying pouch at his side. Coming up with a telepad, he made sure it had the Order¡¯s address on it, and gently coaxed Fredrick to come closer so he could make contact. Then Rufus spotted his next problem. Something was definitely wrong with the water in this tiny river that the woman had fallen into. There was a kind of rainbow sheen to it, visible as it placidly flowed past. Though the human didn¡¯t seem bothered by it, so maybe that was normal? No, that was not normal. Rufus clacked once to himself, and then made some rapid signs to Fredrick, who nodded stiffly back. ¡±W-weeee go nowwwww.¡± The stuff animal told the woman. ¡°Ssssssafe place.¡± He reached out tentatively to her arm. ¡°Ssssssnacks?¡± ¡±You can talk?!¡± The woman seemed like she was back to focusing on the wrong problems. Rufus stepped back as Fredrick got the dog to come over, which wasn¡¯t hard, and the three of them vanished. He had kept the backup telepad, but before he headed back to the Lair, he wanted to check out this oddity. It looked weird. Which could just mean that he didn¡¯t know how Earth¡¯s system of waterways worked, or it could mean there was something dangerous going on. Traversing a wooded area was surprisingly easy, even with a broken leg, once Rufus realized he could move from tree to tree in the canopy. Following the curve of the water over about a mile and a half of travel, it eventually left the park, crossed a back road, went onto someone¡¯s private property that had no trees but also no way to spot a single dedicated strider, and kept on going through fields and undeveloped lots. Until Rufus found a point where a dirt road and an ancient looking bridge intersected it several miles away, and also found a box truck with a pair of humans casually emptying barrels of something into the stream. It was, honestly, a massive relief. Rufus had worried it was going to be a dungeon of some kind, not just humans ruining the environment again. The truck didn¡¯t have any branding, but getting the license plate was easy enough, though he had to memorize it because the only thing he had to write on was a telepad. And writing took him forever anyway, and he could only do it when copying something. So Rufus made the perfectly rational decision to hop in the back of the truck, nestled behind a couple of the old metal drums, and waited. Forty minutes later, he was somewhere new, the people doing the dumping making no effort to hide anything, and probably counting on simply not being caught in general. It took Rufus a little bit to find an address, and the process of dodging notice as he left the garage the truck was stored in was a little harrowing, but he did manage it. At no point during this process did it occur to him that he maybe could have asked for help in any way. One telepad home later, and a trip to the office he¡¯d commandeered from James to tape up his own broken leg and also try to figure out who to contact, he still hadn¡¯t figured out how either get action taken, or catch the people who had caused the problem. Which was when Alex came in. She didn¡¯t knock, which was suspicious, but she also didn¡¯t seem to have expected him there. ¡°Oh, hey Rufus.¡± She said his name like he had three O¡¯s in it. ¡°Is James here?¡± He punched a key on his little communicator board, giving her a frowning face on the screen that came with it. He wasn¡¯t wearing it, because he hadn¡¯t wanted to take it outside when it might rain, but it worked fine like this. ¡°Oh. Okay. Uh¡­ do you know anything about why a random hiker and her dog ended up in our basement?¡± Rufus did! And he explained it coherently with a simple string of six different emotes. Alex watched, nodded, and then said, ¡°I don¡¯t think I got that.¡± Which was deeply disappointing. ¡°But I¡¯m guessing that you had something to do with it. Mister Armillary ran off before anyone could ask him.¡± That sounded like Fredrick, yes. Rufus knew his friend liked the name Sarah had bestowed on him, but having three different names often got confusing for him. He was just a poor stapler with internet access, not some kind of genius. ¡±Anyway. What¡­ oh, nice map.¡± Alex looked down at the survey chart that Rufus had made a pair of marks on. ¡°What¡¯s up with this?¡± And then, in that moment, Rufus realized he could get help with this. One series of frantic motions, taps on the map, and pictographic images later, Alex nodded slowly from where she¡¯d taken a seat and had her human hands in front of her face in a triangle shape. ¡±So¡­ you found some people dumping shit in the river, and you need to tell the¡­ I¡¯m gonna guess Fish and Wildlife department? Department? Bureau? Whatever. You need to tell them where, and who did it. And you don¡¯t know how to find their offices?¡± Rufus gave her a bobbing nod. ¡±Okay. Uh¡­ want a ride?¡± She asked, and Rufus tilted himself sideways in confusion. ¡°I looked up the local office address halfway through when I thought it might be what you needed. I don¡¯t have an appointment for us, exactly, but we can drop in and say hi. And, like, worst case scenario, they get mad at us for teleporting into someone¡¯s office. Best case scenario, they are so impressed by us teleporting into someone¡¯s office that they give us high fives and an award for your detective work.¡± Now, Rufus had only been living on Earth for a few years at this point. But he was almost certain none of that would happen. In fact, he was pretty sure he was about to learn several human ways to say ¡°Get the fuck out of my office¡± and perhaps ¡°What do you mean you can teleport¡± over the next hour or so. But Alex seemed like she wasn¡¯t doing anything important. And Rufus was, frankly, offended that someone was ruining his potential field trip site. So he got his communication board on, let her lift him up to her shoulder, and pointed forward in a command to get going. Which Alex obliged. Hopefully, by the end of the day, Rufus would have one less problem. And so would the local wilderness. _____ ¡°Jaaaaames!¡± Alanna¡¯s voice grew in intensity as it approached him, and James barely had time to process that he needed to duck before he had failed his dodge check and she had him in an arm bar, sweeping him literally off his feet. The almost gentle way that his girlfriend plucked him up and moved him was, in James¡¯ personal opinion, kinda hot. So was the way she spun him around and dipped him down to give him a long and passionate kiss, though he found that a little embarrassing when he was just trying to get a table for lunch. Or maybe dinner. He hadn¡¯t been tracking time that well today. ¡±Allammmmppph!¡± Was about all James got out before the kissing happened. But after Alanna straightened him back up and returned him to his standing position, he continued making muffled noises in place of actually talking. ¡°Mmph. Mmmh hmhh hm maah?¡± ¡±Oh, I¡¯m doing pretty good!¡± She answered him based off a strategic guess at whatever the fuck James was ¡®actually¡¯ saying. ¡°So. Hey. Question for you.¡± His girlfriend elbowed him in the ribs before James grabbed an empty table and sat down opposite her, taking one of the basket seats that the camracondas preferred. James was pretty sure he knew where this was going. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t fool around with Arrush, I¡¯m very sorry.¡± Shaking her head, and only partly keeping an eye on where a pair of striders were crawling across the paperclip lines that ran the length of the walls, Alanna sighed. ¡°You should be sorry, but that¡¯s not what I was gonna ask.¡± ¡±Oh! Wait, really? That seems like half of what I¡¯ve been asked today.¡± Alanna cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Huh. Okay. Well, I¡¯m gonna ask if you wanna go down to Townton.¡± ¡±Why? I mean, sure, but why?¡± James realized suddenly that she meant now, so he stood up with a soft oof, relying on the half drained surplus of Energy to keep his back from hurting and ignoring the fact that the upgrade didn¡¯t do that. ¡°Sorry!¡± He tried to not be awkward as he spoke up to ward off the approaching dining room staff. ¡°I¡¯m being stolen away, but also I think there¡¯s other people who want my table, so maybe I¡¯m not saving you time after all, and now I¡¯m extra sorry, and thank you for putting up with me!¡± The last part was almost a mournful wail as Alanna rolled her eyes and dragged James out of the dining room past the mixed group that was looking around for a place to sit. It only occured to James as he was too far away that the group included Prince and Ruby, and their young human friends, and he really wanted to check in on them. But Alanna was insistent, so he just waved and made a note for later. They seemed like they were doing a lot better though. ¡°So. Townton. Chanter stuff?¡± ¡±Yep.¡± Alanna said. ¡°It was a dumb thought I had last night.¡± She yawned like a lion as she and James headed into the warehouse to check the posted teleport times. Alanna already knew they should have about ten minutes, but still it was worth making sure nothing had changed. ¡°Auberdeen helped.¡± The warehouse was more active than James had expected, with at least two of the groups of security teams in training here. Maybe Nate had them running drills today, though James hadn¡¯t been told about it, which was a bit disappointing. He¡¯d been trying to work on that part of himself as much as possible. It looked like one of the paper drakes was being overly playful while getting fitted for a camraconda saddle, as Ethan¡¯s team prepared to take some new delvers up Winter¡¯s Climb for their first spells. Elsewhere, an unhappy looking man with a crew cut and a stiff posture briefed a few people on spotting Akashic Sewer attempts to sneak things out into the real world. And someone nearly hit James with a drone as he walked in, who he vowed to take mild and unthreatening revenge on later. The back shutters were open, and the summer sun mixed with the internal lighting to give the whole place a happy glow. James loved it. ¡±So, when did you last sleep?¡± James asked his continuously yawning girlfriend as they checked the times for the spatial swap teleports and settled in to wait, legs dangling off the edge of the loading dock where they sat. ¡±Eh, a while.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°I¡¯m starting to get fuzzy, and forget stuff, I think.¡± ¡±¡­A while.¡± James suddenly felt worried. ¡°Alanna¡­¡± She tried to grin at him but another yawn ate it up. ¡±Yeah, you know, a little bit.¡± She muttered. ¡°Okay, I feel like we¡¯re not going to Townton today.¡± James stated. ¡°Or at least you¡¯re not.¡± Alanna muttered something belligerent, and James responded by just scooting over closer and letting her drop her head onto the top of his head in a resting position. ¡°I always forget how much fucking taller than me you are. I slouch so much, I assume it¡¯s not that much, then this happens.¡± Alanna snorted into his hair. ¡°So, what, you¡¯ve been just ignoring bed? What¡¯s up? You okay?¡± Alanna sighed, breath shoving strands of his hair into her face. ¡°Got sidetracked a while back looking into civil rights stuff. Then had a Response shift. Then some other stuff happened.¡± One of her arms curled around him as she started to relax, sitting there on the decidedly uncomfortable concrete ledge. ¡°Sarah said I could use the realtionstick book chain thingy to grab some sleep off of you, but I didn¡¯t wanna if you weren¡¯t awake to okay it. And if it ever comes up, you can totally take stuff from me, I don¡¯t care. And then I had another Response job, but that one was just training. It all just kinda¡­ kept going. And I was too mad about stuff to sleep at first, and then I felt like I could just push through.¡± ¡±¡­how long have you been awake?¡± James asked softly. ¡±Couple days. Nothing too bad.¡± ¡±Go to bed.¡± ¡±Meh. In a bit.¡± Alanna said in a dazed voice. ¡°Kinda comfy now.¡± James snorted. ¡°Yeah, cause you¡¯re using me as a bed. Alright, how about you just tell me what the Townton thing is?¡± ¡±Took the couch down.¡± Alanna said with clipped words. Nodding as he made the quick connection, James ran a hand through his girlfriend¡¯s hair, giving her head scritches. ¡°Okay, so we could understand a the chanters. That¡¯s cool. A, how did Auberdeen help with that, B, did it work?¡± ¡±Makes their emotion thingy sharper. Or clearer maybe. I mean, it does make them easier to understand, but not like language.¡± Alanna sighed. ¡°But, one thing it does that is cool is it lets them understand us. An¡¯ that is probably gonna help a lot.¡± The biggest barrier to communication with the chanters wasn¡¯t that they couldn¡¯t talk, or didn¡¯t seem to get language that well. The problem was that they were so skittish that it was hard to even figure out how to start. They were still keeping their distance from every human at almost all times, only a couple people had tried sharing skulljack connections with them since they¡¯d moved to Townton, and their constant sense of fear and anxiety had a serious negative mood effect on the people who lived and worked there. It was getting better, but the communication barrier was a huge hurdle to solving one of the biggest problems that fed into the communication barrier. And if the chanters could understand the people talking to them, beyond just decrypting hand gestures and tone of voice¡­ ¡±That¡¯s big.¡± James said, repressing his urge to nod so as not to throw his girlfriend off. ¡°Have you gotten a necroad to try it out?¡± ¡±N¡¯yet.¡± Alanna said sleepily. ¡°But the horizonists are real excited for it.¡± James huffed out a breath. ¡°You mean Kirk.¡± He said. ¡°He¡¯s the last holdout on that particular thing.¡± ¡±I¡¯m pretty sure he could convince someone else to sign up.¡± ¡±I knew this was going to happen.¡± James had been waiting, waiting, for someone to form another dungeon religion. He probably could have predicted that it would be the guy who already had one. Alanna bonked her forehead against him as she pulled back. ¡°Nah, he¡¯s fine.¡± She said with slightly renewed energy. ¡°I¡¯m mostly kidding. I think it¡¯s probably the little group of ratroaches living down there that¡¯re really invested. They see the necroads as like them.¡± ¡±Makes sense.¡± ¡±Yeah. Doesn¡¯t not suck though.¡± ¡±I mean, it does not suck, in a way.¡± James countered. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ they¡¯ve healed to the point that they can show empathy. That¡¯s the first hurdle for most of them. That¡¯s a good place to be. It¡¯s better.¡± ¡±Mmmh.¡± He set an arm on Alanna¡¯s thigh, a pleasantly warm point of compassionate contact. ¡°Hey, what were you looking into, anyway?¡± Alanna blinked at him, swaying slightly. ¡±Huh? Oh. I was trying to figure out if local laws actually applied to¡­ you know, half our friends.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± James had done that too. ¡±Yeah. So I was trying to figure out the best way to change it.¡± James shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s a tangled mess of interconnected bullshit.¡± He said softly, only just loud enough to be heard over the evening traffic and the sound of someone calling out from the Lair¡¯s roof. ¡°I was considering getting someone to run for governor, and signing an executive order about it. I seriously doubt we could get a presidential candidate through. We could also just relocate to somewhere else. I know I said that the way forward should be changing the world for the better, not breaking shit and starting over, but we probably could build our own island, right?¡± ¡±It¡¯s a nice dream.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°Just get away from it all. Do what we always knew was the right thing.¡± ¡±It certainly works at a small scale.¡± James agreed. ¡°Hey, so, I¡¯ve been thinking.¡± ¡±Shit.¡± ¡±Oh come on!¡± ¡±Sorry, sorry! It¡¯s a reflex with you!¡± ¡±Alanna that¡¯s so much worse.¡± ¡±Tell me your thought before I pass out.¡± James laughed, shouldering his partner, before adopting a more sober look. Staring out over the parking lot and to the row of trees that separated property lines, listening to a paper drake¡¯s wings taking off overhead. ¡°I want to bring Townton back to life.¡± He said. ¡±We¡¯ve been doing that.¡± Alanna reminded him. ¡°I was just down there. They¡¯re doing good. Oh! Fuck I¡¯m so tired, I almost forgot, the Horizon seeds we nabbed are some kind of hyperadaptive beans. We¡¯re growing a few.¡± ¡°Cool beans. But also no. I mean, I want to¡­ I want to make use of the informational black hole that Lloyd and the Mechanic left on our hands, and turn Townton into a city of thousands of people, in the middle of the US, and just¡­ you know, do the thing. Let people live there. Be normal. Or, like, turn our lives into normality for a ton of people who wouldn¡¯t otherwise think of it or even know magic was real, much less camracondas. We could pay taxes, and get our secret FBI contact to back us, and probably get some weird cointelpro thing run on us. But we can¡­ I dunno, not shoot them. I don¡¯t wanna keep having that be my answer to everything. I¡¯m so tired of killing people, not that I was ever really into it at all. Maybe we just find whatever secret agents get sent to ruin our lives and turn them by hooking them up with a cute ratroach boyfriend, because I guess we have a surplus of those now, and¡­¡± James trailed off as Alanna¡¯s weight against his shoulder intensified, and he smiled entirely to himself as he realized she¡¯d fallen asleep. Which was good for her, and also cute as hell, but James had no idea how to get her into bed. He could teleport them home, but Alanna weighed something like two point five Jameses, after all the purple orbs were said and done. He ran a hand through her hair, and then, had a brilliant thought brought on by the world¡¯s truest magic of ¡®paying attention to the woman you loved¡¯. Holding his hand to the back of her neck, James drew on their recently opened relationstick bond, and started borrowing Alanna¡¯s strength. He didn¡¯t know how this was measured, if it would naturally refresh over time, or what he was even taking, but it was as easy and intuitive as when they¡¯d practiced. And with what felt like half of Alanna¡¯s upper body strength infused into him, lifting her off the concrete and holding her close was almost effortless. James had a few more things to check up on later, but for now, he figured a break was in order to get his girlfriend home safe. _____ Spire-Cast-Behind was not, in reality, very good at a great many things. She was learning rapidly, and had been doing so for as much of her life as it was an option. She knew how to run a small medical facility¡¯s computer system, knew how to live through a fight, knew how to bake sourdough bread. Knew how to speak through the streamlined speaker system that was normally part of her stylish coat but was currently attached to her custom fit lab safety gear. She knew how to assist with a construction project, knew the etiquette for the public baths, knew how to deploy with a Response team into an active threat situation, and even knew how to flirt with someone. That last one had been a challenge, and according to some people, Spire-Cast-Behind absolutely did not know how to do that. She would say it wasn¡¯t something you could just say she didn¡¯t know how to do. She knew how, she was just bad at it. One thing she wasn¡¯t very good at was working with the Order¡¯s alchemy department. Which was why she was here, today, working in the alchemy department. Spire-Cast-Behind was a lot of things, and if she kept at it, someday maybe she could be all things. For now, there was a learning curve to get over, and she was being very careful along with the other potion maker in training that was working with her. There had been a class on the subject before she¡¯d even entered the part of the Lair that held the equipment they used, and Spire had done a lot of supplemental reading through their test results and reports. But she still wanted to be careful to not break anything of great importance on her first day. To start with, the older human woman with graying hair pulled up in a tight bun had been showing Spire and Bea how to harvest the sap. Why it was called sap was unclear, because even when it came from the Tree of Knowledge - a name Spire-Cast-Behind found fun - it was a fruit and not sap. When it came from the row upon row of enthusiastically growing succulents that sprouted from dungeontech ceramic pots, it was even less sap. The pots were always in demand, and they had apparently gotten a new batch of them from the major dungeon run that Spire had skipped for safety reasons. It took about a week or two for a single fruit from the fancy magical tree to grow into a cactus that produced about one bulb of sap every few days, and appeared to have a lifespan measured in years. Which meant that each potential batch of potions invested turned into hundreds of attempts. They got to hear about the math of it, as well as the proper procedure for carefully removing the fruits from the small succulents. The right way to tell if one was ready, how they were stored for use, how to check on things like the new growths and whether the heat lamps were set properly, how to not water them unless specifically instructed. That was said with enough force that Spire-Cast-Behind was pretty sure someone had ignored Amelia in the past and ruined something. It had that kind of history to it. After that, there was a rundown of the current long term experiments. Alchemy with the sap - and it was closer to alchemy than chemistry - was notoriously finicky. Isolating specific effects seemed like it was impossible, because the process actively resisted being learned about that way. Ingredients did wildly different things depending on what they were mixed with, which implied some kind of ¡®second layer¡¯ of information that they didn¡¯t know how to map out yet. But what they could do was refine what worked in terms of processing method, and ratios. Before, when it was the Guild of Alchemists doing this, they had a tendency to find something that worked, and then manufacture that for sale. But they had one fruit a day to work with. The Order of Endless Rooms had a hundred. And that number was only going to grow. The only time Amelia showed her new students any kind of excitement was when talking about how incremental testing had let them improve the exercise potion by about thirty percent in terms of volume, and also create a different ¡®style¡¯ of it that preferenced its ability to suppress nerve pain during the healing process. Spire-Cast-Behind and Bea did get hands on experience, though. The Order had, with their ability to run more experiments than they had time for, eventually figured out that it didn¡¯t seem to matter what species worked on something. Similarly, material composition of the tools they used influenced the outcome, but only in a marginal way. Which had let them streamline a lot of their production of the potions that were in common use. Which was how Spire-Cast-Behind got to be the one who ran the blender for, and eventually poured out into doses, the potion that would repair lung tissue. It felt¡­ she didn¡¯t know how it felt. Like being thrown into the deep part of one of the baths unexpectedly. Like the process of measuring out cures for something that killed people should have more gravitas than a thing that a trainee was thrown into. This batch was going to be sent out to humans that would never know her, might not ever know that camracondas were real, and she was just casually put on the task of holding their lives in her stare. When she commented on it, Amelia had taken it seriously, listened to her, and then told her that wasn¡¯t how it worked. There were two sides to the potion business; making them was a matter of perfecting repetition. Coming up with new ones was where the logical deductions, careful study, and creative leaps happened. The cure for cancer was the simple part. After they¡¯d been walked through their first batch each, and had been deemed passable at obeying the simple steps, Spire-Cast-Behind moved on to the nearby room where their safety tests were run. The Order had a sizable population of laboratory rats, spread across a number of enclosures on the different tables, many with charts and computers nearby, cameras watching their behavior carefully. It was strange, to think that many of these creatures would probably die when it came to studying the effects of new potions. In fact, if her own brew of the lung purifier had any major errors, she might kill one of them in the safety test for it right now. Spire peeked her head over one of the tables, camera eye focusing on the largest habitat that was a long term case study for a potion that had been brewed and tested months ago. It had clearly changed the rats, but no one quite knew how. She wondered if they understood that they were being asked to sacrifice for something abstract. She wondered if they were unhappy. Then she checked the chart and found that, by many metrics, they were the happiest rats to ever live, which was nice. Bea stepped next to her with the precise movement style that often differentiated inhabitors from humans. ¡°Would you eat the rats?¡± She asked, the grey blandness of her voice actually shaded with what sounded to Spire-Cast-Behind like legitimate curiosity. ¡°...what?¡± The camraconda felt like mastering her voice had come with the serious drawback of sometimes saying things she wasn¡¯t planning on. ¡°The rats. Do you want to eat them.¡± Bea stated again, as if that clarified anything. ¡°Because you are a snake.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind took a deep breath, feeling the external cables of her belly stretch and flex as she steadied herself and twisted to face the person. ¡°No, I do not want to eat our valuable test subjects. Also they look happy. And are statistically presenting as happy by known and measured lab rat standards.¡± ¡°Do you not eat happy things?¡± Amelia chose that moment to intervene. ¡°Good lord above that¡¯s the rudest thing I¡¯ve heard working here, and that¡¯s counting you damn kids always talking about your sex lives.¡± The elder human said in her voice that sounded like she was always on the cusp of telling someone they were an idiot. Even when she was actively doing that. Bea shifted her stance exactly enough to include Amelia in the conversation. ¡°I do not. You could speak of your experiences, no one would mind.¡± She was back to a fully blank voice, the curiosity about Spire¡¯s diet gone. ¡°Ah, but then i wouldn¡¯t be let into heaven.¡± Amelia said with something like a tiny twist of a grin. Spire-Cast-Behind decided to see how amenable their teacher for the day really was to the kind of banter she¡¯d gotten used to with the other humans and even many of the camracondas. ¡°Because lying is a sin.¡± She said coyly. ¡°Now see here young lady!¡± Amelia¡¯s voice sounded like she was having more fun with this, even if it was a distraction from the potion work. Spire-Cast-Behind added a soft hiss, making it clear she was teasing, and not hostile. ¡°You could, of course, reciprocate Davis¡¯s flirtatious behavior.¡± Spire was bad at flirting, but she was certain she had recognized it with the other man when he had been helping them out. ¡°It would expedite many social functions.¡± Bea added, though Spire-Cast-Behind wasn¡¯t sure if the inhabitor was getting in on the joke, or serious about prioritizing efficacy over anything else. Amelia¡¯s face fell in an instant, her tone going cold. ¡°Are you forgetting something? I¡¯m a prisoner here. One way or another, anything twixt one of your people and me is something I severely doubt any of your little ethical codes would approve of. Also you¡¯re only picking Davis because you¡¯re pairing humans off by relative age. If I were so inclined, I would take¡­ mmmh¡­ for sake of argument, let¡¯s say JP. He seems youthful and vigorous.¡± Spire wasn¡¯t quite sure if that second half of her words were still angry or not. Amelia was a challenge among humans that the camraconda had met in that way. Davis chose that moment to enter the testing lab, back from his own small break. ¡°Awful, just awful.¡± He said with the tone of someone mature interrupting a bunch of rambunctious kids. ¡°Both for my ego and everyone¡¯s sensibilities. Who ever decided this was acceptable work talk?¡± ¡°They did!¡± The alchemist snapped at him. ¡°Well fair enough. Although you¡¯re wrong, and you aren¡¯t.¡± Davis said diplomatically as he went to check on how the rats that were the long term testers for the sprint potion were doing. The woman who he was supposed to be the sponsor for during her time here made a questioning noise, and Spire had to admit she was curious what he meant as well. ¡°A prisoner.¡± Davis clarified. ¡°You¡¯re not.¡± If there was a wrong thing to say in that moment, that was it. Amelia¡¯s mask cracked, her face going from placidly irate, straight through the false ¡®real¡¯ anger that she showed when she snapped at people and lashed out, and went deep into the kind of fury that neither Spire nor Bea ever saw in the Order. When she started talking, it was with a tone that refused to be ignored, or placated. ¡°You broke the soul of our guild. Confiscated everything of value we had. Turned our legal counsel to the task of funneling the estates of our dead membership into your coffers, remanded the survivors into your custody for some form of ¡®reeducation¡¯, and you have the utter gall, the sheer arrogant audacity to tell me I¡¯m not a prisoner? This, Davis, is why I won¡¯t accept any offer from you. At least do me the bare courtesy of not lying to me out of some awkward distaste for the truth.¡± Her voice had been rising as she went from speaking to shouting, venom dripping from her words. Suddenly, Spire-Cast-Behind understood why sometimes humans talked about ducking out of conversations. She considered asking Bea to make a distraction for them to escape under, but the door was on the other side of the two adults. Davis glaring back over a rat habitat as he retorted, his own voice annoyed. ¡°You haven¡¯t been a ¡®prisoner¡¯ for over a month.¡± He stated flatly. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°Red¡­ Amelia, we¡¯ve talked about this at least twice. You¡¯ve spoken to Recovery about where you want to live, if you want to continue your work here¡­¡± ¡°Of course I want to continue the bloody work! This is what matters, you balding pigheaded bastard!¡± The woman leveled a pointed finger at him, the white of the clean suit making the gesture look a little out of place even to a camraconda that wasn¡¯t up to date on human fashion trends. Davis gave up on being polite and just yelled back at her. ¡°Yes! Which is why you¡¯re still working here, even after everyone said you could leave!¡± Amelia closed her mouth, a bitter suspicion in the wrinkles around her eyes as she eyed her handler. ¡°...when was that?¡± ¡°A month ago!¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t recall. Well. your organization¡¯s poor communication skills aside-¡± ¡°No. Amelia, listen to me. This isn¡¯t a joke. If you don¡¯t want to be here, you walk out that door right now.¡± Davis pointed to the exit as Spire tried her best to focus on the rats that seemed unaffected by the shouting. Next to her, Bea was doing the same, casually examining a chart with disinterest, though it was likely the inhabitor actually wasn¡¯t influenced by social awkwardness at all. A true superpower. Amelia looked at the door, then back. ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of batch testing for 114.¡± She said indignantly. ¡°Processing you¡¯d call prison labor¡± ¡°Processing I¡¯d call important work you cretin!¡± ¡°Amelia.¡± ¡°Davis!¡± Davis¡¯ mouth twitched into something almost like a snarl, the man doing his best to break away from a lifetime of habitual anger. ¡°Do you want to be here or not.¡± ¡°...Well if I have the option, then yes!¡± Amelia eventually conceded. ¡°You¡¯ve had the option for a month¡± ¡°I was busy!¡± Davis sighed. ¡°Spire, Bea, let¡¯s get started on those tests for your brews, and then I can take Amelia here to redo her Order orientation, as I am learning right now that she wasn¡¯t paying attention to it the first time.¡± That was much easier to deal with, as far as social situations went. Spire-Cast-Behind was happy to throw her thoughts into the process of how to administer a potion to a rat, and keep up monitoring and record keeping for adverse effects. By the end of their time in the basement, she felt like this wasn¡¯t the job for her. But she had made something that would save a hundred and nineteen lives, she had failed to kill a test subject, and she knew a lot more about the strangely energetic and artistic lab rat colony that was still adapting to a potion test administered months ago. It was a good day to be a knight. She made the daily choice to keep doing it tomorrow. _____ ¡±I¡¯m freezing and I look stupid!¡± Momo¡¯s yell was loud enough to bounce through Pendragon¡¯s interior to all the other passenger seats, even though El was right next to her. Deb had medically cleared her and El for this, though they were explicitly only allowed to do it over an open field, with a whole cadre of camracondas below them, just in case. Everyone else was in position, it was just down to the two of them, the dumbest ones who had volunteered to try first, to do it. The lingering taste of an oxygenation potion kept them from suffering any adverse effects from constantly using up Breath. Heat packs in tight gloves kept their hands from going numb. Refit charges had been burned to make sure their clothing still fit. And a couple other small magics made the process a lot more comfortable and safe. But Momo still felt like she was crammed into the smallest pod Pendragon had grown for riders; an experience she wasn¡¯t used to. El¡¯s laugh sounded through the inside of the dragon, and her heart hammered faster for a reason unrelated to the idiotic bullshit they were about to do. ¡°Hey, at least you didn¡¯t get my design! I clash so goddamn hard with your goth look I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t break up with me on the spot!¡± ¡±Shut up!¡± Momo didn¡¯t have anything even close to a retort. ¡±Also you¡¯re hot!¡± ¡±Yeah well you look like Magic card art!¡± ¡±I don¡¯t know what the fuck that means you weeb!¡± ¡±You will! Think I could get Research to make you a flaming sword?¡± ¡±You shouldn¡¯t fucking ask because I shouldn¡¯t fucking have one!¡± The blended voice of Dave and Pendragon rumbled around them as the merged duo spoke. ¡°Ladies, please don¡¯t bicker. We¡¯re one minute from the point, but can ferry you in circles until you¡¯re steady and ready.¡± ¡±I¡¯m good!¡± Momo¡¯s shrill spike as her voice cracked made that sound like a wretched lie. ¡±Yeeeeeah.¡± El added, and Momo had a moment of fear as she could practically feel her girlfriend shaking. Which didn¡¯t make her feel any better. ¡±Hey!¡± Momo yelled. ¡°This¡¯ll be fun! Besides, if we fall, the camracondas will catch us!¡± El laughed, abruptly and boisterously. ¡°Hell, if you fall, I¡¯ll catch you!¡± She said. ¡±¡­How the hell do you plan to-¡° Dave and Pendragon cut them off. ¡°Twenty seconds! You two ready for this?¡± Momo was absolutely not. But she was. This was so stupid, and so amazing, and she was fifty percent adrenaline by volume at the moment. ¡°R-ready!¡± She said. ¡±Sure, let¡¯s go!¡± El added. Momo wanted to yell out that she had stupidly fallen in love with El. That she didn¡¯t know when it happened, and it might be stupid, but that she really felt it and meant it. But her voice caught in her throat, and all that came out was a squeak as Pendragon started to list to the side and Momo pressed her hands against the inside of the dragon¡¯s skin. One compartment over, she barely heard Speaky instructing El to ¡°Say the thing! Just say what you¡¯re thinking, before-!¡± Pendragon and Dave ended any potential romantic moment. ¡±Five seconds, drop confirmed. Thank you for flying Dragon Air, where our motto is, it¡¯s not pronounced like the pokemon¡± And then Pendragon turned to bank in a wide arc, tilting so both her human passengers were sliding out of their seats as gravity told them they were facing toward the ground. Which was when the heavy paper scales that made up the doors to their seating pods flared open, pulling back in the wind cause by Pendragon¡¯s speed. And Momo and El found themselves hurtling toward the ground. Exactly what they¡¯d expected, though it was a little startling to be thrown out of an aircraft like this, even if they did have a countdown and a plan. Momo still felt like her breath was stuck. Like she was frozen in fear, and this was a stupid idea. When her lungs did start flexing again, it was to start screaming as the flagrant idiocy of what she¡¯d decided to do with her evening finally sunk in. But when she twisted her head as freefall started to take hold, she saw El falling next to her, a look of pure concentration on her face as the teal form of Speaker trailed behind like a glowing comet. And flared out behind her, grown from spread out points along her back, a set of six wings. Thick feathers in angelic white, curved bone structures and a profile that was wide enough that it could theoretically at least let a human glide. El¡¯s look was an unconsciously scowling mask of intent as, focusing through the wind and the fall, she brought her wings under control and spread them out, bones bending and feathers flapping like leaves in a storm as she began to arrest her downward momentum. A few individual loose feathers breaking away and leaving a trail behind her as she struggled, and succeeded, in gaining control of her new limbs. Momo couldn¡¯t let herself be shown up by El. It wasn¡¯t in her nature. Also she didn¡¯t want to see what happened if she had to go through the lengthy process of getting her momentum sapped by the camraconda ground crew. Her own wings responded with what felt like a lot less effort than El¡¯s. Momo¡¯s wings were great curved spikes that were more like whole extra arms. They would have been right at home on a gryphon; running the length of her body and extending past her feet, each wing tethered to her frame by a thick bony shoulder. They were a rich tan shade, with an inner ring of black feathers highlighting them. And when Momo opened them, the wind caught her like a hammer. Twenty two feet of wingspan acting like an organic parachute that she had just deployed without thinking if it was a good idea or not. The only reason she didn¡¯t fold right there was that Momo didn¡¯t burn through her purple orb charges for preventing broken bones, and this absolutely counted. After the opening shock, getting herself under control was still weird. The wings still had a kind of skin like webbing connecting them to her legs, and even though it was flexible and seemed like it wouldn¡¯t tear, it meant she had to fly like she was pretending to be Superman. Then her brain caught up to that thought. She had to fly. Momo wasn¡¯t falling. She might be gliding, but she wasn¡¯t falling. She was moving in a straight line, the air rushing around her wings. She took a risk, looking to her side as she tucked in one of her wingtips and lifted a limb ever so slightly, feeling herself start to drift that direction. She snapped it back into place before she could spin off course, then tried it with the other side. Left, right, left, right. Then something more complicated. Rolling, pushing with one wing, not quite a beat but something close. A first step, a tentative experiment. She changed her heading. Curving around, to see El a few hundred feet away, trying to do the same thing. Their eyes met as they ended up heading toward each other, and Momo saw a wild and free grin on her girlfriend¡¯s lips, brilliant lipstick undaunted in the face of being dropped out of the sky. She was smiling too. Momo took a deep and unneeded breath, feeling her heart pumping and her face going numb from the force of the wind. So they didn¡¯t have to fall. That was good. She focused on her breathing, focused on the calming influence of having something to focus on. And then focused on lifting her wings up as far as she could move them. She could have had a million thoughts about how the wings felt, could have tried to take notes on if the effect they were having was purely a result of their biology or if there was a magical component to the flight, could have been distracted by the lingering pain from activating the spell, the pain from the magical blood transfusion, the pain from the cold, the pain from anything. Could have tried to start pre-writing the instruction manual for whatever dumbass tried this after her. Momo did none of those things. She had one thing on her mind, and looking at what El was doing ahead of her as she brought herself around in a swooping arc, she was pretty sure that her girlfriend had the same idea. Time to see if they could soar. _____ And so life in the Order of Endless Rooms continued. Chapter 273 ¡°The baglematic does not suffer from narrative inconsistency. The bagelmatic produces crispy brown bagels on demand. And who am I to argue with that?¡± -Noah Gervias, A Thorough Look At Fallout- ___ ¡°Welcome in!¡± James extended a handshake to the man he was interviewing in what felt like the earliest of mornings. A litany of skills, both from orbs and from his time in exile as a business major, letting him modulate his grip for exactly the impression he was going for. Friendly, confident, no overbearing challenge for dominance, no sense of anything to prove. ¡°I¡¯m glad you called.¡± ¡±Who wouldn¡¯t?¡± The mildly beefy and tattooed hipster who had run into the existence of magic, inhuman species, and James himself while he was working as a waiter at a barbeque place stared at James with a shocked expression that he was trying to get under control. ¡°I mean, uh¡­ yeah. Of course.¡± There was no need to do anything to put the man off balance. Assuming James had actually wanted him confused at all, it wouldn¡¯t have taken more than just having the interview in the normal spot he did his work out of. James laughed at the way the waiter tried to put on a professional front. Not a trained showing, but he was trying, even though he really didn¡¯t need to. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go grab a seat in the little meeting room here. My office is in use by an aggressive stapler trying to bully an EPA agent or something.¡± ¡±¡­okay.¡± The word was said with the tone of a man who was prepared to believe anything, but maybe hadn¡¯t actually expected to have that preparation tested this thoroughly today. His mistake. James held the glass door open and let his interviewee in to grab a seat before he took one across the table. ¡°So! Welcome in. I know you told¡­ probably Cathy¡­ but I don¡¯t actually have notes on me. Do you have a preferred name and or pronouns?¡± ¡±Or?¡± ¡±This place is weird.¡± ¡±I¡¯m just¡­ like, okay, I appreciate the question. Jesse, and they/he. But I¡¯m trying to imagine someone who has pronouns but no name?¡± James thought about it briefly. ¡°I guess you could make an argument about the artist formerly known as Prince, but that¡¯s A, a reference even I¡¯m too young for, and B, probably inaccurate. There might be an infomorph that could form that way? I dunno! It¡¯s also not super important, but it¡¯s a fun thought experiment.¡± He settled back, feeling a little at ease to know that the person he was interviewing had that kind of thought process, and was willing to express it. The Order tended to acquire a lot of people, in the sense that they often ended up with people who had no other options. It was a grim reality, but when someone had literally nowhere else to go, and no one who even remembered them, it put them in a vulnerable position where they were often open to changing. James hoped that the changes he pushed through the Order¡¯s collective culture were positive ones, going off a policy of compassion and researched understanding first and foremost. But it did change people to fit their culture, that was undeniable. When hiring someone, though, it was a person coming in from outside; usually someone still part of the world. There was a lot of extra stuff to consider, ranging from if they¡¯d even fit in, to if they¡¯d be the kind of person who would abuse a skulljack and start spreading that problem around before anyone was ready. It had been years, and James wasn¡¯t sure they¡¯d ever really be ready for that. The point was, he was looking for people with the right attitude, the right openness and willingness to learn, and the right intent. And in a quick little aside before the interview even started, his potential new hire had demonstrated at least one of those things. ¡±So! You want to be a wizard?¡± James asked by way of actually starting the interview. ¡±Who wouldn¡¯t, right?¡± ¡±You¡¯d be surprised. A number of people wouldn¡¯t have called the number.¡± ¡°Is this one of those things where normal humans can¡¯t see magic, or where they self-justify it and don¡¯t think about it?¡± Jesse asked, rapidly tapping their fingers on the table as they stared out the plate glass windows to the sunrise over the city skyline, a state away from where they¡¯d gotten in the elevator ten minutes ago. James shrugged. ¡°Sometimes. There¡¯s a weird effect in place over what seems like at least all of North America where information about certain things¡­ refuses to spread properly? It¡¯s very annoying. Some people have a defense against stuff like that, but it¡¯s rare, and I think there¡¯s more people who have a particular vulnerability to it. But also, not everyone would want to be a wizard.¡± His interview subject shook their head, wiry beard drifting from side to side. ¡°That¡¯s stupid.¡± ¡±That¡¯s life. Not everyone wants to be a doctor either, even though that¡¯s cool too.¡± James didn¡¯t say that he had the ability to become a doctor in an afternoon if he got the right orb copies, and in fact, that it was on his list of things to do eventually. ¡°So, I¡¯ve got a few questions for you. You can think about your answers, but I am looking for honesty over anything else, okay?¡± Jesse nodded at him. ¡°Okay. What would you do if you didn¡¯t have to worry about money?¡± That one got an instant answer. ¡°Play more disc golf.¡± And after a brief pause, ¡°Maybe get into craft brewing. Go on more hikes. If I¡¯m really not worried, like, never work again not worried, then I¡¯d probably get bored and want to get into some kind of park ranger thing. Maybe do a few years on a firewatch.¡± ¡±What are you good at?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good at learning new jobs, and being patient with customers.¡± ¡±¡­What are you good at if you were telling your friends and not lying to an interviewer?¡± ¡±Oh. Uh. I mean, disc golf again. I¡¯ve got an encyclopedic knowledge of all the birds in the US, and I know how to make a souffl¨¦ without fucking it up.¡± ¡°Much better.¡± James nodded as his subject got into the casual flow of conversation he was looking for. ¡±How do you do working in groups?¡± ¡±Kinda shit.¡± He said with a wince, like he knew it was the ¡®wrong answer¡¯. ¡°I like having my own stuff that I¡¯m responsible for, so if someone else screws up, it¡¯s not my fault, you know?¡± James hummed. That was fair enough, especially in the kind of environments that modern businesses tended to have. ¡°If you had to choose between being able to fly, or being able to teleport, what would you want?¡± ¡±¡­do I get to choose?¡± The question got no response from James except a raised eyebrow. ¡°Uh¡­ fuck! Fly, I guess? Wait! Am I still not worried about money? If I¡¯m not worried about money I choose fly.¡± ¡±How many people did you pass on the way in here?¡± Jesse settled a hand over their mouth in thought, lightly tugging at their braided beard, eyes turned upward trying to recall. ¡°Actually, hang on.¡± It wasn¡¯t that hard to just turn around in the chair, looking out the clear glass walls of the room to count the people who were working here today. ¡°Five. Unless the plant, lamp, or vending machine count. So between five and eight.¡± ¡±Damn, that¡¯s really good.¡± James laughed. Not only was there no hesitation in counting Smoke and Scent-Of-Rain, but there was even a hedging of the bet. And ignoring implicit rules to get more accurate results. ¡°You¡¯re given ten thousand dollars and told to help people. What¡¯s the first thing you think of, and then how do you improve on it?¡± ¡±Very first thing? Uh¡­uh¡­ find a place with cheap apartments and rent a few of them for a year and stock ¡®em with some easy food, then give them to groups who don¡¯t have places to stay.¡± Jesse looked like they already knew there were holes in that plan, and James waited as they tried to think of how to improve on the idea. ¡°Okay. So, not good long term, but it could help a bunch of people get back on their feet. But you¡¯d need a support network, right? Someone to check in on them. Do I get magic for this?¡± ¡±Not yet.¡± ¡±Damn! Okay. Uh¡­ improve it¡­ I mean, if it works, for even one person, then we could just ask them to pay back into it. Not like a loan, but any extra money would mean we could keep it rolling, right? Does that count?¡± ¡±Interesting.¡± James said easily. ¡°Alright. You find yourself facing a perfect clone of you. What do you do?¡± ¡±Get real confused, probably? Make out? Is there a right answer to this? Does this come up?¡± James laughed good naturedly. ¡±I¡¯m asking the questions here.¡± He said. ¡°But also it¡¯s more likely than you think.¡± ¡±Who wouldn¡¯t want to work here?¡± ¡±Good question.¡± James said with a grin. ¡°Okay, next question. Scale of one to ten, how much danger do you think you¡¯d be willing to live with?¡± Jesse nodded sagely, leaning back. ¡°I figured out why someone might not want to work here.¡± They said. ¡°Also¡­ six? Is six okay?¡± ¡±How much danger if surviving the danger directly gets you magic?¡± ¡±No, still a six. That¡¯s what I was assuming. Is it some kind of weird ritual that turns me into one of the bug people if it goes wrong? Or is that offensive?¡± ¡±That¡¯s a little offensive.¡± James admitted with a nod. ¡°Also no. The magic is lots of things. Ritual based is pretty low on our list.¡± He briefly considered manifesting a towel to show off exactly how much phenomenal cosmic power the ritual James was most familiar with got him. But held off, to continue asking questions. ¡°Do you prefer a broad mandate or specific tasks?¡± ¡±Tasks.¡± ¡±How willing are you to change as you learn new things?¡± ¡±I like to think I¡¯m pretty good at it.¡± ¡±Do you want to work for an organization dedicated to improving the world, that leverages power both magical and mundane to try to help people in as many ways as it can? The-¡± Zero hesitation. ¡±Yes.¡± ¡±¡­Do you want to know what the pay and benefits are like first?¡± Slightly more hesitation. ¡±¡­No.¡± James grinned. ¡±Well, you have to know anyway. You¡¯re hired. There¡¯ll be a group orientation this evening at six PM ¡®downstairs¡¯. I should be there after I do a few other things today.¡± He stood and offered another handshake. ¡°That¡¯ll be where you get more one on one time with someone who¡¯s deeper in the day to day organization of everything, and we¡¯ll figure out where to start you.¡± He dropped the handshake, still smiling as the newest member of the Order stood with a matching grin. ¡°Welcome aboard.¡± ¡±Thanks! And this completely makes up for not tipping me with a magic wand.¡± James made a show of blanching. ¡±Shit, did we forget to tip?¡± He said as he held the door open, leaving the conversation there and maintaining the air of mystery on whether or not magic wands were still on the table. You only got so long to goof with the new people before they figured everything out. He was going to savor it. ____ James sat on a wooden bench that teetered under him, wiping sweat from his face with a towel and breathing heavily. The lingering and quite unpleasant taste of exercise potion on his tongue was washed away as he gulped down water from the sports bottle that he grabbed from among neatly arranged rows of the things. Overhead, the sun beat down. It wasn¡¯t quite a burning hot summer, but it was great weather for stress testing Winter¡¯s Climb spells. Nate was busy with something, so Karen of all people was overseeing this training session. And despite James not ever having noticed, she¡¯d clearly gone a fair distance up the Climb herself, because she was not only familiar with every spell they had in their vault, but actively using some of them when it came up. The main difference between Nate and Karen¡¯s training methods, James realized as he felt his lungs start to soothe and his muscles stop aching, was that Nate mostly ran combat engagement drills for their new security teams. Learning how to fight humans, effectively, in a variety of ways. And in sharp contrast, Karen had them running drills for everything. Combat, evasion and concealment, medical care in hostile situations, search and rescue, even just how to put out fires without hurting anyone else or themselves. Karen had a list of problems, and she ran the group through all of them, one after another, and then looped them back to the start to do it better. There was a focus on using their magic to maximal effect, but because of how often knights ended up with new magic, Karen¡¯s training course took after Nate in that it emphasized creative application and always thinking. The Order might be preparing them to be like soldiers in some situations, but they didn¡¯t want anyone thinking that meant they were stupid. Karen¡¯s drills also including deductive logic puzzles, codebreaking challenges, and finding accounting discrepancies via skulljack while doing the other drills kind of went a long way toward cementing that they were moving past what humans should naturally be capable of. When they¡¯d started, James had been under the impression that Karen expected them to fail, but learn how to try, learn how to learn. But no. She was both careful and meticulous in how far she pushed the training group. Which highlighted something else that Research had long had on the back burner; what, exactly, was the difference between one skill rank, and two? Well, Karen had a few overlapping skill ranks that worked here. But mostly, it was the unique too-large-to-copy green orb that she had cracked in the offices around Officium Mundi that had given her four ranks in planning training regimens. It had also caused the building to repair cracks in the brickwork every week, so that was neat. The overall effect of it was, James felt good. He felt like he was getting better. Working under Nate, yeah, he¡¯d seen improvement, obviously. Even just getting actionable practice with his repeatable spells made him a lot more useful. But in one six hour session spread across twelve city blocks of seanic demolished Townton, James felt like he had forgotten what it was like to meet problems he couldn¡¯t handle. That¡­ that mindset might be dangerous. He¡¯d tell Karen about it after. Interrupting his musings, Simon dropped to the bench next to James, thunking the one leg that was a little too short into the sidewalk. ¡°Hurrrrrghgh.¡± He enunciated perfectly as he struggled to open one of the potion vials. ¡±Agreed.¡± James said, having already had time to groan listlessly before the others got here. The others were a collection of humans, camracondas, and one ratroach. Arrush, specifically, had way more stamina than anyone expected, given how hard it was for him to talk for prolonged periods. But Karen somehow seemed familiar with both his limits, and just how fragile he actually was compared to a human, and calibrated his training around it. There were three people here, specifically, that James was paying attention to. Alex and Spire-Cast-Behind were two of them. Simon was the last, and one of the two that James hadn¡¯t talked to directly yet. ¡°So, how¡¯s Karen¡¯s routine compare to Response training?¡± James asked casually. He¡¯d done the Response courses himself; there was a lot of focus on civilian utility and deescalation especially. They didn¡¯t really do that many drills like this. Running around an abandoned city, solving problems on the fly as their seemingly omnipotent GM threw stuff at them, often in the form of the Order¡¯s own security teams. Those kids were having a great time getting to team up on the specialized spellcasters. ¡°My everything hurts.¡± Simon said. ¡°Why did I agree to this. I wanna go back to Response forever. Harvey doesn¡¯t hate me.¡± ¡±The worrying thing is, I don¡¯t think this is Karen hating us.¡± James said. Simon just groaned again in only half-faked despair. ¡°So.¡± James said as Tennessee continued to do its best to give them heatstroke or maybe have them consumed in a cloud of mosquitos. ¡±Oh no.¡± ¡±I have a question for you.¡± Simon looked up at James as the paladin rose off the wobbling bench and started stretching. The exercise potion was turning the wet noodle feeling in his arms into the sensation of itchy growth, and the headache from using a few blue orbs in rapid succession was fading too. But there was still something about James that demanded he put aside worrying about that, and pay attention. ¡°The last time you had a question for me, it was if Other James and I wanted to stay on.¡± Simon said softly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± James said on reflex, looking away to stare back down the street toward the ¡®town square¡¯ they¡¯d been restoring and actually using. Their training site was two miles away, but there were still a couple of people going through the disturbingly routine process of clearing the road of destroyed cars. ¡°I wish things had gone differently.¡± ¡±So do I. We, if you want to be weird about it.¡± Simon said. Then he shrugged, and regretted making the motion. ¡°Ow. Also it¡¯s fine. I¡¯m not trying to make you feel bad, I just want you to know that you¡¯re ominous sometimes.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± James legitimately hadn¡¯t realized that. But he should have. There was, he knew, a tendency to get caught up in the newest project, or the newest disaster, and to have that stack on top of his own compounding mental health stresses until he forgot details. Details like how others might be affected by those same things. James took a deep breath. ¡°Yeah, I can see that now.¡± He said. ¡°Maybe I should ask later.¡± ¡±Nah, I¡¯m good. What¡¯ve you got?¡± Simon said, and then he and James both flinched as two blocks away there was a metallic screech as part of a building was pulled into a controlled demolition. Or at least, they hoped it was controlled. Fortunately Karen was keeping even the people who were out for this drill updated, so neither of them had to run to provide medical aid to whoever had just dropped a roof on themself. James stilled his heart as much as he could these days, and met Simon¡¯s eyes. ¡°Next week, we¡¯re going to take the oath of the first round of paladins that aren¡¯t me.¡± He said calmly. ¡°I want you to be one of them.¡± ¡±¡­You want me in charge of the Order?¡± ¡±I¡¯m really not in charge of anything.¡± James retorted. ¡°But¡­ insofar as paladins are in charge of things¡­ yes.¡± Simon eyed him suspiciously. ¡°Why me?¡± ¡±Because you¡¯re smart, adaptable, and generally a good person. You already participate in multiple different aspects of the Order¡¯s operations, people are familiar with you and like you, and you¡¯re open to the kind of extensive use of magic you¡¯ll need to keep on top of stuff. You fit the ethical and capability requirements. And¡­ you know what it¡¯s like to lose people. And I trust you to turn that knowledge into the drive to keep it from happening to anyone else.¡± ¡±Did you have that all prepared?¡± Simon asked. ¡±Yes.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± He blinked, and looked down at the ground, taken off guard by how openly sincere James was being. ¡°If¡­ if my James were still around, would you be asking him?¡± He said. ¡±I don¡¯t know.¡± James said honestly. ¡°I don¡¯t. I never got to know him, which I regret. I barely got to know you. But I know what you¡¯ve been doing, and I know that you¡¯re getting to be the kind of one-man multitool that the paladins are supposed to be.¡± James eyed Simon like he was trying to find something there to assess, but all he saw was the guy he¡¯d known as a steady part of the Order since before it was the Order. The guy who helped out, who kept going, and who was a lot more dangerous than people would expect from his disarming appearance and easy demeanor. ¡°But also, Other James is part of you, in a way I know I don¡¯t fully get. So yeah, I guess I am asking him. I¡¯m asking you. All of you, all the weirdness wrapped up in who you are. You.¡± Simon didn¡¯t say anything for a while, though he did drain the rest of his water. ¡°Who else?¡± He said eventually. ¡±Alex. And Spire-Cast-Behind.¡± ¡±¡­Spire I get.¡± Simon said. ¡°But Alex?¡± ¡±Wait, really?¡± James laughed. ¡°I actually would have expected it the other way around.¡± ¡±Oh man, no, Spire is exactly what you want. She¡¯s done everything in the Order at least once, including every delve. And she loves a challenge. Not great at planning, but still, she¡¯s perfect. Alex, though¡­¡± James shrugged. ¡°Alex has basically been doing the job already. She¡¯s a little more chaotic, but that¡¯s the point. Paladins shouldn¡¯t be copies of what I want, they should be the different faces of how we get stuff done. And she does get stuff done.¡± Except finding the belt. The magic belt that had been lost for apparently ever since Status Quo attacked the Lair, that James didn¡¯t even remember existing. Alex had been hunting it like it was her white whale, to about as much success so far. ¡±Okay. So, two humans and a camraconda. No ratroaches?¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t ready.¡± James told him, starting to pace a little bit on the open stretch of reclaimed street. ¡°Even Arrush. They will be, eventually, but none of them are yet. Same thing with infomorphs. Even the older, stronger ones. Planner knows they¡¯re not a good fit and explained why at length, Mercy likes her place in the hospital, Zhu¡­ well, don¡¯t worry about Zhu. And then there¡¯s the authorities, which are somewhere between dumb dogs and smart roombas in terms of mental capabilities. Loyal, yes, absolutely, but I don¡¯t trust them to make choices. I don¡¯t think they can make choices.¡± Simon looked like he was deep in thought. ¡°What¡¯s the difference between a paladin then and someone who chaotically moves between problems and projects already?¡± ¡±Neither Momo nor Rufus would make good paladins, because both of them don¡¯t actually like talking to people outside of their close friend groups.¡± James answered the question that Simon was actually asking. There was another long pause, though not a quiet one. In the distance, the sounds of voices and motion reached their ears, while a single car engine announced the restoration of the vehicle behind them. That one would be added to one of the growing lots of cars the Order had access to, thousands of vehicles lined up, repaired by the gas that came out of the nearby dungeon but completely lacking in any purpose. Bugs threatened to try to break through the insect repellant they had on. A shift in the breeze brought the smell of rot and decay from part of the city that hadn¡¯t been cleaned up. Others from the training group started moving down the street to join them in ones and twos as the exhausting exercises started to wind down. His mind wandering, James found himself thinking about giving in and joining the Akashic Sewer delve tonight. He was already tired, but when he saw Arrush walking toward him, he felt his heart pulled in two directions. Elation to see his boyfriend, as odd as that was to start getting used to, but also a dark pit in his stomach to know that more of Arrush¡¯s species were held captive by a violent god in the ugly hole that was that dungeon. And at least that he could do something about. ¡±Okay.¡± Simon said, breaking James out of his grim thoughts. ¡±Okay?¡± ¡±Okay. I¡¯m in. Do I get a secret agent number?¡± ¡°¡­No? No!¡± James cheerfully answered. ¡°You get loaded down with magical effects, and a lot of responsibility.¡± He paused. ¡°Actually, there¡¯s something important about that, that you need to know before agreeing.¡± Simon snorted. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I know already, but we can talk about it later.¡± He pointed to where Karen was bringing up the rear of the group. While James handed people water bottles as they arrived, and got rebuffed by Arrush when he went in for a hug and learned that the ratroach was far too hot, itchy, and uncomfortable to deal with physical contact, Karen stopped ten feet away and watched the group of knights flounder in drained exhaustion. The older woman was wearing exercise gear instead of her usual professional attire, and James had started the day offended that she looked like she had more muscle definition than him. Now he was ending the day less offended, and more just impressed that she had run all the same drills alongside them, with a seemingly endless well of stamina. Karen looked at all of them and gave a single nod. ¡°Good work today everyone.¡± She said simply. ¡°I¡¯ll see you all next week.¡± Then she strode off toward the town square, leaving the whole group behind as she moved with careful strides, looking for all the world like she hadn¡¯t broken a sweat in the last six hours. ¡±That¡­ that sounded like a threat.¡± One of the new kids from one of the security teams said. ¡±I think it was more like a promise.¡± Alex gasped out before she popped the lid off her sports bottle and poured the water over her face. ¡±Th-that¡¯s worse.¡± Arrush said, his bare chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern as his multitude of lungs worked hard with his panting breaths. ¡°S-so much worse!¡± ¡±I dunno, I feel pretty good!¡± James said with a grin at all of them. ¡°I could do this again!¡± A multitude of different eyes looked at him, and he suspected that Spire-Cast-Behind was considering whether or not she could freeze him long enough for the rest of the group to tackle him. ¡°I mean, I could do this again once.¡± James appended. ¡°Any more than that and I might die.¡± They relaxed. That sounded more reasonable. Once was doable They could come back once. And then reevaluate from there. Which might¡­ actually be Karen¡¯s exact plan. James bit his lower lip. Four skill ranks in something really did make someone kind of scary, when it was something that involved social prowess. Even knowing what was being done, he didn¡¯t feel manipulated at all. Just¡­ like he was understood, and being worked with. That was weird. Or maybe perfect. He wasn¡¯t sure and he¡¯d used up all his mental energy for a while. ¡±Alright.¡± Simon said, standing up. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go get lunch and then hang out on the couch and talk to the chanters. The terrifying old lady who runs the burrito cart down here is around today, and that sounds great right now.¡± ¡±Dorothy isn¡¯t terrifying.¡± Alex tried to tell him. One of the kids from the security teams looked around them, pointing at the devastation that still dominated this city in the wake of Townton¡¯s violent upheaval. ¡°Do American cities always look like this?¡± It was potentially an innocent question from a girl who had lived most of her life in a rural Indian town, but there was a level of learned confidence and snark to her voice that made it clear what she was saying. ¡±Dorothy didn¡¯t blow up the¡­¡± Alex trailed off. James cocked an eyebrow at her. ¡°Hm?¡± ¡±Dorothy didn¡¯t blow up the city alone.¡± Alex finished lamely. ¡°Alright, fine. She¡¯s a little scary. But she¡¯s also serving nacho bowls to a bunch of terrified turtley guys, and also to us, if we go there right now.¡± ¡°That does go a long way.¡± Simon said before taking a more commanding tone. ¡°Everyone make sure you don¡¯t leave any gear around! Especially the drones! The necroads will eat them if they find them when they move back into this area, alright?¡± It was kind of fun watching Simon round up a group of people who had been opponents on the training field not even ten minutes ago. He, Spire, and Alex led the rest of the Order¡¯s new members away back toward the populated part of the city, the three of them talking about something that James had put on all of their minds. ¡±They look like they¡¯re having fun.¡± James said to Arrush when they were the last two left behind. The ratroach just nodded at him, blinking rapidly, his smaller limbs scratching at the lines between his chitin and his hide. ¡°I¡¯m still on Oregon time, so I¡¯m not up for lunch. But I do need a bath. You wanna head back to the Lair with me?¡± Arrush gave a much more enthusiastic nod, a few thick blue droplets flying from his triangular muzzle as he grinned at James. ¡°Excellent.¡± James smiled back and offered a hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got a little time before the next thing I¡¯m supposed to do today. I hope. God Karen is exhausting. Is this what it¡¯s always like working with her?¡± Arrush nodded again before they vanished, much more solemnly. Karen was a very direct person, who had never once cared that he had different requirements while the two of them were learning to fight together. But this? Strict, demanding, pushing people to their limits¡­ well, she¡¯d gotten better at doing it effectively. But four skill ranks had only changed the deftness of her approach, not the attitude behind it. Arrush had a feeling that Nate wasn¡¯t going to get his job back for this role anytime soon. _____ Operations Manual update. Mandatory for Response personnel, recommended for all Order members. Order Of Endless Rooms Operations Manual, Section 1 Part 10-8, Response Uniform : When Response was started, it was in reaction to a dungeon breaching into mundane Earth and killing a lot of people. The initial concept in the aftermath of that disaster was that we had the ability and resources to have a team of combat-ready knights prepared at any time to teleport in to save the day. Since that time, two things have happened. One is that no other dungeon events have occured. The other is that Response began deploying in response to a number of incidents that had nothing to do with dungeons at all. The original uniform for a Response knight matched the original purpose. Class two body armor, two weapons in different styles just in case a dungeon had a ban on one of them or its creations were resistant to something, any combative dungeontech we had access to. The kind of thing you would wear if you expected to be on the front line evacuating civilians and holding back waves of monsters from somewhere like the Underburbs. The current reality of Response is that people call us for help. They call because they¡¯re having a medical problem, because there¡¯s a mental health crisis, because there¡¯s an argument escalating to maybe a fight, because they¡¯re worried about their neighbors, because they¡¯re lost, because their kid is lost, because their car broke down. Someone called us once because she couldn¡¯t carry her groceries to her apartment. We solve these problems. We are happy to solve these problems. None of these problems require body armor. At time of writing, Response has responded to thousands of real crises, and even more small problems. Across all of that, the number of times a Responder was attacked amounts to less than .1% of all calls for help, and none of those attacks would have been effective even without the armor. As Response completes its transformation to a community safety unit that just happens to be able to teleport, we would be idiots not to examine how we present ourselves to the world, and to the people we are working for. The job of Response has always been to make people safer. We started locally, but every day sees us ending up a little farther from home, and a little more integrated into the world. Despite the problems with the spread of information, there are people who recognize us. And we want them to recognize us as people who aren¡¯t a militarized police force. Part of the reason Response was formed in the first place, even if all the rest of it has changed, is that a militarized police force was ineffective and bad. And across the world, police forces keep showing off just how bad of a look body armor and heavy weaponry is. Knights are meant to be better. And also, you have shield bracers. To that end, the new Response uniform is as follows, regardless of species:
  1. Civilian clothing of your choice
  2. ¡®Blue orb¡¯ patches to be worn on the shoulders
As we continue to grow and expand, Response is going to be met with a lot of challenges from the world. But at no point should we forget what we want Response to be. Response solves problems. And we don¡¯t need to look like stormtroopers to do it. _____ James frowned at his computer screen. Hunched forward in the comfortable chair that someone had once put in his office to help with his back pain and bad posture, utterly ruining the point of the chair, he sighed to himself. ¡±Do you think this is a little heavy handed?¡± James asked Rufus, before realizing that only silence replied to him. ¡°Rufus?¡± He looked around their shared office, but found no sign of the strider. ¡°Huh.¡± Rufus must have gone out at some point while James was working on Operations Manual updates. The document was kept constantly up to date by a number of people, but half those people often asked him to do the parts that filled in history, context, and reasoning. And because of the constant updates, they¡¯d gone to a system where every update was either required reading, recommended, or secondary. It was flexible, if imperfect, but that was kind of the Order¡¯s motto at this point and it was working for them. ¡°It is afternoon.¡± A digital camraconda voice from the door spoke, getting James¡¯ attention. He looked up to see someone poking their head in, a boxy camera form with an aperture eye atop grey and blue cables in no particular pattern. ¡°Oh hey TQ.¡± James said, before realizing that probably sounded really unenthusiastic. ¡°Come on in, I¡¯m not really doing anything except wondering how much I should edit this.¡± ¡±Nostalgic.¡± The camraconda said with an amused hiss as he slithered through the door and used the end of his tail to shove it mostly shut. ¡°I am here to complain.¡± ¡±Oh, heck yeah.¡± James grinned at the camraconda as he moved fluidly onto the beanbag near the edge of the wide desk that James and Rufus shared. TQ seemed to deflate as he settled into it, flopping his head over upside down to stare up at James, the coat he was wearing bunching up under him. ¡°Nice jacket by the way.¡± James commented. It was a little embarrassing, but he hadn¡¯t been exposed to the growing culture of camraconda fashion nearly as much as he might have expected. For all that he was the person to make the call and lead the way to liberating the first large group of camracondas from Officium Mundi, James often felt like he wasn¡¯t really as close to any of them as a lot of other people in the Order were. TQ was his friend, sure, but it was mostly in how they casually hung around each other while working on stuff, and not that James was immersed in the camraconda way of life. He wasn¡¯t sure how that had happened, exactly. But TQ was wearing what looked like a puffy brown bomber jacket with the arms folded down along his sides, and it was a cool fit even on someone without arms. Unless it was actually poofy enough to cover an armature backpack, in which case James found it impressive that the Order¡¯s engineering department had built a set of camraconda arms that could maneuver in a coat like that, because he¡¯d worn a jacket like that in college and those things were heavy. ¡±Thanks you.¡± TQ replied to the compliment. ¡°It is your coat.¡± ¡±What?¡± ¡±I stole it.¡± ¡±How? When?¡± James was more impressed than offended. TQ hissed an uncontained laugh. ¡°Sarah gave it to me, at D&D night.¡± Unlike many camracondas, TQ didn¡¯t actually use an assistance program for his voice. But even still, the way he pronounced D&D in a precise letter-by-letter way made it sound unlike how James ever heard anyone else say it, and served as a reminder that he wasn¡¯t talking to a human. ¡°She claimed you would not miss it. And I believe her. Because she is very powerful.¡± ¡±That is true. I wouldn¡¯t cross Sarah. But that¡¯s mostly because I think I¡¯d die of shame if I disappointed her, and not cause she can actually just put me in a coma by looking at me funny.¡± James admitted. ¡°How¡¯s the game been going, by the way! I¡¯m super curious.¡± ¡±It is strange.¡± TQ admitted, still staring up at James from his inverted resting spot. ¡°I had not thought that pretending to be other would be fun.¡± James nodded. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s kinda the big hurdle with tabletop RPGs. It¡¯s, like¡­ a game out of playing pretend.¡± ¡±Yes!¡± TQ shimmied into a coil of camraconda in the beanbag. ¡°And that is new. It was dangerous to do that, before. Our siblings that did mostly broke and left. Doing it now was scary. But I am having fun, I think!¡± The casual way the camraconda spoke about trauma that James felt he would have been broken by himself was heart wrenching. But if TQ felt like he could say it without distress, then James wasn¡¯t going to dwell either. ¡°So, what¡¯re you playing as?¡± ¡±The most exotic thing.¡± TQ replied. ¡°A human fighter.¡± There was a brief moment of quiet, and then, James leaned over the side of his desk, resting one arm on it as he gave his friend the flattest look possible. Lips pursed, eyes narrowed just a little bit, thoroughly unimpressed in every way. TQ just kept up his innocent looking gaze, long tongue flicking out to taste the air in fast but casual motions. ¡°No one has ever thought of this before.¡± He added, somehow smug about it. That got James to crack into a burst of heaving laughter. ¡°Alright, alright!¡± He said as he struggled to catch his breath, still leaning over his desk with one hand on the edge of it. ¡°That was fucking perfect.¡± ¡±Just regular perfect for now.¡± TQ replied as if he¡¯d been waiting for the comment. ¡°Will you join our game? We are fighting a volcano currently.¡± ¡±That¡¯s¡­ a tempting way to get me interested.¡± James admitted. ¡°But also, as cool as it sounds, and as much as I would like to hang out more, I don¡¯t know if I could even keep up with the schedule. Also aren¡¯t there, like, four of you? That¡¯s already kinda pushing it.¡± James held up a hand as he leaned back, counting off names he knew were hanging out with Sarah at his apartment. ¡°There¡¯s you, Smoke-And-Ember, Alanna, and¡­ the ratroach I can¡¯t remember or pronounce the name of. The one who almost died.¡± ¡±Cheha.¡± TQ¡¯s pronunciation wasn¡¯t great either. The name was, much like Arrush and Keeka¡¯s names, meant to be a soft quiet sound that could be said without drawing attention. It was an almost breathy chaa-haa sound, that was very hard for a camraconda to say properly. Not that James was doing any better. ¡°But also almost died is a bad qualifier for them. That is so many ratroaches.¡± ¡±Yeah, it fucking sucks.¡± James nodded. ¡°At least we¡¯re working on it, you know? Hell, I¡¯m going back in tonight to see if I can get anyone else out of there.¡± ¡±May I join?¡± It was hard sometimes to tell if TQ was serious about things. The camraconda had found a streak of silly mischievousness in the absence of being responsible for the lives of sixty others of his kind. But right now, it was clear he wasn¡¯t kidding around. On things like this, he and James were in agreement; no one deserved to live like that. ¡±Absolutely.¡± James answered quickly, slotting TQ into the strike team roster with his skulljack link. ¡°Done. The Sewer¡¯s been doing a really annoying thing with the timing of the door apparently, so we¡¯re going in at around ten pm.¡± ¡±I will clear my schedule.¡± ¡±¡­do you have a schedule?¡± James had to know. ¡±Of course. I have three additional interviews today. And I have allocated time for flirting with you. And I am helping Mark with a construction after lunch. And I am scheduled for a delve tonight.¡± TQ listed things off. James nodded along, then slowly tapped a finger against his lips. ¡°What was that second one?¡± ¡±You heard me. Humans have good hearing. Like dogs.¡± ¡±I¡­ wait, is that a thing? Sorry, I don¡¯t want to get too sidetracked, again, but do camracondas not hear as well as humans or something? I feel like I should know this.¡± James admitted. ¡°I should definitely know this.¡± TQ whipped his head back and forth, the top of his camera dragging against the carpet of James¡¯ office as he was still mostly upside down. ¡°No. We also have good hearing. Like dogs. Or humans.¡± ¡°Sometimes talking to you feels like a light jog through a conversational minefield.¡± James told TQ with an amused huff. ¡±Thank you.¡± James wasn¡¯t fully sure if that had been a compliment, but it was actually funny to see TQ take it that way. ¡°Oh, wait, interviews? Are you helping with that?¡± ¡±Yes. I have your list of questions, and some of my own. Cathy says I am doing a job.¡± TQ gave an odd little hiss as he spoke. ¡±¡­a good job?¡± ¡±She used an adjective. I am not sure if she thinks I am foolish.¡± The blue-grey camraconda stated, turning for the first time to look away from James. ¡°I know I speak differently. I know I am not normal. But I am not stupid.¡± It wasn¡¯t clear if he was saying it to himself, or to James, or to no one at all. James slid out of his chair and dropped to the floor, scooting himself until he was leaning on the beanbag TQ was laying in. In the most casual way he could, he settled an arm around the thick body of the camraconda in a comforting hug. ¡°I can talk to Cathy if you want.¡± James said softly. ¡°But like, you¡¯re using the most difficult method possible to talk with a skulljack. And you regularly get the drop on people in banter. So what I¡¯m saying is, I know you¡¯re not stupid.¡± ¡±I worry.¡± TQ admitted. ¡°I know I sound wrong. Texture-Of-Barkdust has been seen as flawed for the same thing when speaking to humans. Your world is sometimes very mean.¡± ¡±Oh, I fuckin know.¡± James nodded as TQ roiled to turn under his arm to face him. ¡°I¡¯m working on it.¡± ¡±How?¡± ¡°Patience and compassion, mostly.¡± James admitted with a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s kinda working. Anyway, do you want to do the next interview together? I¡¯ve just got to do an edit pass and then post this update.¡± TQ looked up at the side of the human¡¯s face. James wasn¡¯t quite looking at him, instead just staring at the rear window of his office and the view of the massive human nest outside. But TQ was looking at what was important. Someone who had never, not once, failed to care. ¡±I would like that.¡± He said. ¡°I am two minutes late, so you will need to hurry. I will place the blame on you for the distraction.¡± James rolled his body forward, hopping to his feet and leaning over his keyboard to make a few rapid edits. ¡°That¡¯s not fair! Emotional support isn¡¯t a distraction!¡± He claimed with a laugh. TQ also rolled sideways off his resting spot, rising up to his casual moving height, which put his eyeline at about three and a half feet over the floor. ¡°I agree. But you have still made me late, and it is funny this way. I will meet you in the conference room.¡± He turned up his head toward James and stuck the end of his tongue out with a tiny hiss as he said his piece, before heading for the ajar office door. James rapidly finished his update to the Operations Manual, and followed. The Order was needed more people for a hundred different projects, and if he was lucky, they could fill at least a couple of those spots today. _____ ¡°What would you do if you didn¡¯t need to worry about money?¡± TQ asked their latest interview subject. This one, at least, focused on him and didn¡¯t break eye contact to look at James. ¡±How much not worrying?¡± Ji-Hu asked, the South Korean student using only slightly accented english. Or rather, he¡¯d been a student until he¡¯d failed to get into his target university, and had gone through a mild mental breakdown. News of which had gotten back to a couple online friends, who just so happened to know about a job opening. ¡±All your needs met and enough left over to toy around with.¡± TQ specified. There was a long pause. ¡°This is an odd interview.¡± The young man said. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know what I would do. I am sorry.¡± He moved to stand up, and James quickly held up a hand to motion him back into his seat. ¡°What are you good at?¡± He asked, pretending that the person they were asking questions to hadn¡¯t just tried to flee as soon as he felt like he¡¯d gotten one wrong. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. TQ interjected rapidly. ¡±And, before you answer, I am going to save us time and specify that he is asking what you would tell friends you are good at, not what you would say in an interview.¡± ¡±But this is an interview.¡± Ji-Hu protested weakly. ¡±Well yeah.¡± James admitted. ¡°But pretend it¡¯s not. Or, better, pretend that I¡¯m an eccentric American with no sense of decorum.¡± ¡±Oh! Yes, pretend I am that as well!¡± TQ added with a cheerfully attached hiss. Ji-Hu looked like he was entirely unsure about everything happening. ¡°I am good at¡­ at making friends?¡± He asked. ¡°That sounds so strange to say, but it is true. Remembering names and things about people, that never felt like forcing myself to study. I also know how to drive, but I do not know if that matters as much here.¡± ¡±Because it¡¯s the US and everyone here worships cars in a very worrying way, or because we have teleporters?¡± James asked. ¡±The¡­ I¡¯m sorry, what am I interviewing for?¡± The student adjusted his glasses in a nervous tic that he¡¯d been displaying every time someone said something like that. ¡±A job.¡± TQ unhelpfully supplied with the kind of camraconda-specific digital tone that made it deliberately unclear if he was poking fun or being bluntly honest or both. ¡°How do you work in groups?¡± The question seemed to be a refuge of normalcy to their subject, and he practically sagged in relief to have something he could give a good answer to. ¡°I¡¯m very good at it.¡± He said with a tiny smile. ¡°I was always the one who organized group projects in school. Put the pieces together. Not something that gets you recognized, but I know that it helped.¡± That was a good answer. James and TQ made a shared mental note through their skulljack connection. Who this person was and how they¡¯d fit was starting to take shape. ¡±If you could choose between flying or teleporting, which would you pick?¡± TQ asked, continuing the flow of questioning. ¡±Flying.¡± Ji-Hu answered without hesitation. ¡°It would be safer. And more¡­ no. Yes. Flying.¡± ¡±More what?¡± James followed up, cocking an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s okay to have weird reasons; you might have guessed but we¡¯re into that here.¡± The younger man sighed. ¡°More¡­ freeing.¡± He said. ¡°Teleporting would be efficient. Flying would be¡­ pleasant. You could get away that way.¡± ¡±I like him.¡± TQ said out loud, turning to James. ¡±You¡¯re supposed to save that for the end. We have more questions first.¡± James reminded the camraconda. ¡°Like this one. How many people did you pass on the way in?¡± ¡±Counting you?¡± ¡±No. Just on this floor.¡± ¡±Three.¡± James raised his eyebrows. That was, if you didn¡¯t count the plant and vending machine, correct. And it was okay to not count them when you didn¡¯t know. It wasn¡¯t like Ferndinand actually made a habit of showing off to every visitor. It was more the instant answer that impressed him. ¡±Incorrect but not too bad.¡± TQ said, getting a suppressed look of distress from the student. ¡°You are provided a budget of ten thousand dollars. You have no time to consider. How do you use it to improve the lives of others?¡± This question always made people flounder, and this time was no exception. But he recovered admirably, with an answer that very obviously drew on something from his own experience. ¡°Create a series of easily accessible videos that offer primers in different academic subjects, but for people who do not learn well from books.¡± James was pretty sure that existed, but it was still a good impulse. Education was important, though clearly the person on the other side of the table from him hadn¡¯t really had a great experience with his own nation¡¯s system. A common problem basically everywhere. ¡°Alright. Now that you¡¯ve said that out loud, how would you improve your own idea?¡± ¡±Oh. Interesting.¡± Ji-Hu paused only for a minute as he thought. ¡°Different translations to make it more available to different people. Sample tests attached to the videos to help with studying from them, for retaining information.¡± To James, that was a weird impulse. He did actually understand where it was coming from, but thinking of a test as an improvement was just not where his brain would go unless he forced it that direction. ¡±You find yourself¡± TQ said without missing a beat or giving Ji-Hu a breath, ¡°facing a perfect copy of yourself. Your reaction?¡± ¡±Is the copy a demon? Or some kind of monster?¡± ¡±Good question.¡± James lied. Ji-Hu looked lost again. ¡°Well¡­ if I trust you, then it¡¯s a perfect copy. Which makes them me. If they are evil, then they might try to steal my life, so I shouldn¡¯t trust them? But now that I¡¯ve said that, I realize I am desperate enough to have ended up here, so maybe they could just have my life if they asked. But if they are exactly me, they wouldn¡¯t want it either. So we might end up in an argument about which one of us needs to tell our parents that we failed our entrance exams.¡± He looked away from James and TQ before taking a deep breath. ¡°Is this likely to come up?¡± The student sounded almost hopeful as he fidgeted with his glasses. ¡±That is the most depressing thing I have heard today.¡± TQ said with an amused hiss. ¡°And that is impressive, because I have said some very depressing things!¡± James pursed his lips. ¡°Yeah, yikes.¡± He said quietly, running a hand over the edge of the table and trying to avoid saying anything quite so blunt. ¡°Actually, you¡¯re not even on a bad track there with the open communication part. I find that a lot of the scariest looking problems can be solved by just adapting to understand the situation and working to give people what they need. So, like, I don¡¯t hate your answer.¡± ¡±But let us move on.¡± TQ said, and Ji-Hu gave the camraconda a grateful look. ¡°On a one to ten scale how much danger would you like to live in?¡± ¡±¡­One? None? No danger please?¡± James hummed. ¡°Interesting. And what if the danger could give you supernatural abilities or outright magic?¡± ¡±That is¡­ a strange thing to ask me. Does any of the magic make studying easier?¡± ¡±Shockingly? Yes.¡± ¡±Eight, then.¡± There was no hesitation there at all. James made another note just under TQ¡¯s own, that maybe this kid was hyperfocused on something that had consumed his life for a little too long. ¡±Would you prefer a job with a specific list of tasks you need to accomplish, or with a broad mandate that you could work within?¡± James asked, trying to not get bogged down with how worryingly zeroed in on schooling Ji-Hu was. ¡±Tasks feel more efficient.¡± Ji-Hu said. ¡°Being able to meet goals and know I am on the correct track is safer than not knowing if I am making progress.¡± He frowned. ¡°But I have never tried any other way, so maybe I would need to try it to know.¡± TQ gave a bobbing nod. ¡°A fine answer. How well do you change in response to new information?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t want to seem like the kind of person who brags,¡± Ji-Hu said slowly, focusing on the camraconda, ¡°but I have been speaking to an alien life form for the last fifteen minutes.¡± ¡±Dang, that¡¯s a good answer.¡± James said out loud, leaning back and smiling. ¡°Alright. Would you like a job?¡± ¡±Doing what?¡± ¡±You¡¯re the first person to ask that!¡± TQ said cheerfully. James settled a hand on TQ¡¯s head. ¡±That isn¡¯t an answer.¡± He said with a laugh. ¡°The actual answer is, we¡¯d move you around a lot for a few months until you find something that calls to you. Your job would be as an assistant to whatever project lead you¡¯re working with that week, with an eye toward developing personal skills, team cohesion, and cultural adaptation. Our organization¡¯s mandate is to improve the world in a variety of different ways, and the pay is probably a lot higher than you¡¯re thinking. This is not some kind of unpaid internship.¡± Ji-Hu looked past them, out the window at the city skyline. He was one of the few people who had actually arrived through the office building¡¯s real world lobby and not the magical elevator that went up in Oregon and ended in California. But still, he was a long way from home, and he took a deep breath as he considered the offer. ¡±My father wanted me to be a doctor.¡± He said softly. ¡±That¡¯s still on the table.¡± James told him. ¡°We can start you with our medical wing, and see how you fit in. But, I don¡¯t want to leave this unstated; we¡¯re going to want to know what you want and where you want to work. I¡¯m not hiring your parents. I¡¯m hiring the guy who¡¯s good at making friends and organizing group projects.¡± Ji-Hu nodded, and then refocused on James. ¡°I accept.¡± He said. James reached out a hand to shake. ¡°Welcome to the Order of Endless Rooms.¡± He said. ¡°Cathy will get you set up with the registration paperwork and stuff. And then you can take the elevator down for a tour of our actual headquarters. Uh¡­ be prepared to have that ¡®adapt to new information¡¯ thing tested, yeah?¡± ¡±It is a very long elevator ride.¡± TQ said cryptically. Out of everyone else in the Order, he understood exactly why James liked doing that kind of thing. _____ James started to have dinner in the Lair¡¯s increasingly fancy dining area as part of a lightly romantic date with Anesh and Alanna. The three of them didn¡¯t line up their schedules very often, and since James wanted to have eaten well in advance of the Sewer delve he had later, he felt like a dinner that was basically an exceptionally late lunch would be nice. The dining room, originally just an open room in the commercial flex space that they¡¯d leased to turn into the Lair, had undergone a number of transformations over the last couple years. It had ended up looking a lot more hostile after the Status Quo attack on the building, with the high windows walled over and replaced with more defensible rebar and concrete. But since truly eliminating that enemy, and then pushing back the threat of further retaliation with Planner¡¯s infomorphic vigilance, they¡¯d made other changes as well that had lightened the feeling of the space. The walls that used to divide off a small secondary room, which had been where Response operated, had been reduced, leaving the whole place feeling larger and more spacious. The walls had been repainted and decorated with hangings, including a trio of tall carved wood panels that several camracondas had made that depicted their escape from Officium Mundi, in an emotionally powerful mirror to the original work that had first shown James their origin story. What had originally been secondhand school cafeteria tables and benches had transitioned into padded bench booths along the outside walls, varnished wood surfaces, and basket seats for the camracondas. Warm wood and orange lights that were still bright enough to see clearly under. And of course, the litany of green orbs that were a constant addition to the building. One of them gave the dining room more natural light, which was impressive for a space without windows. At least one effect made more space for tables, and one just made more space period. Further effects gave small but constant quality of life improvements, like making it less likely to trip, making the food more nutritious, and keeping the coffee hot. And that was before James made a bunch of new recruits test crack more green orb copies later tonight. It was a really nice place to just relax. And the kitchen, staffed by people who actually seemed to enjoy or at least tolerate the job, made it a great place to get food at basically any time of day. Which was perfect for the Order, which always had someone in the building that needed to eat. And which was perfect for when James and his partners wanted to have a nice little dinner together without too much stress, when all three of them were busy with other projects. ¡±Not that we aren¡¯t friends...¡± Anesh started to say as James glowered over his salad. Alanna was more blunt. ¡°JP what the fuck are you doing interrupting us?¡± She asked their friend who was about to be downgraded to ¡®friend¡¯, jabbing a fork with her own chunk of salad on it in his direction. James had gotten a salad because he wanted something light just to not feel hungry later. Alanna had gotten a salad because she knew there was no limit to how much stuff you could put on a salad, and she wanted to apparently eat an entire pound of bacon. JP just laughed as the trio stared at where he¡¯d slid into the booth next to Anesh. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m sorry! Don¡¯t get too mad. I¡¯m just here to give a quick update on a couple things at least one of you needs to know.¡± He held his hands up, a self-satisfied look on his face saying that he wasn¡¯t sorry at all. ¡±I already know about the new Response uniform.¡± Alanna said, turning to show off her shoulder, patting the tips of her fingers on the newly minted patch stuck on her jacket. ¡°Personally I think we should have thought of this a lot earlier. It¡¯s the perfect inside joke; obviously blue orbs solve problems, but no one is gonna have a fucking clue what we¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡±And I¡¯m aware of Camille¡¯s¡­ sister.¡± James said, frowning at the word. ¡°Is it sister? I think Cam kinda knows they aren¡¯t actually sisters, but I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s what she¡¯d want to be called.¡± Anesh tapped a finger on the smooth tabletop between them. ¡°You could just say ¡®an Camille¡¯, and use that voice you like where you know you¡¯re using slightly incorrect grammar.¡± He offered. James gave his boyfriend a bright smile, feeling his heart melt at the words. ¡°I do like doing that! Okay, yes JP, I know about how there is an Camille nearby.¡± ¡°Are we gonna recruit her too?¡± Alanna asked. ¡±Probably nnnnnn- hm.¡± James cut himself off. Anesh laughed as he twirled his fork through his late lunch, mixing sauce and pasta in a casual motion. ¡°You, of all people, should know how this plays out.¡± ¡±It could go wrong!¡± James said. ¡°Anyway, Alanna and I did our rebuttals of JP¡¯s ¡®news¡¯, now you do one.¡± He set his elbow on the table and cocked a finger toward Anesh in a dramatic flourish. His boyfriend stared back at him, then slowly looked over at JP who looked like he was getting increasingly irate with these three idiots he¡¯d decided to be friends with back in high school and had never escaped. ¡°Yes, JP, I already know that someone stole the room you were going to use as a secret clubhouse to be a pottery studio.¡± ¡±How do you know that?¡± JP asked. ¡°The first part. Not the¡­ rest of it. I know how you know the rest of it.¡± ¡±He knows the rest of it because his boyfriend is a pothead.¡± Alanna said, deploying the joke she¡¯d been trying to wedge into conversation for about a week. James and Anesh both turned to stare at her, James having to shift so he was leaning against the room¡¯s wall, open mouthed at the incredibly dumb joke that had Alanna looking like she¡¯d just gotten away with the crime of the century. Sitting up straight, head tilted back, a smile the made it seem as if she was eating some kind of priceless and irreplaceable artifact, looking down on her boyfriends almost imperiously. ¡±¡­Yeah, Keeka asked me to go with him to learn how to make pots and stuff.¡± Anesh confirmed, turning back to James like he was having a normal conversation. ¡°It¡¯s kinda relaxing, actually. He is a lot more into it than I am, but I think it¡¯s bloody cute so I¡¯m not going to stop going. Anyway, I had a feeling when JP showed up one day and then scampered off that he had wanted the room and forgot about it for too long.¡± ¡±JP¡¯s going to be so disappointed.¡± James said, trying to stab a rather resistant piece of onion with his fork. ¡°He may never recover.¡± ¡±I am still here.¡± JP offered, deflating slightly. Anesh nodded solemnly. ¡°Well, JP¡¯s total devastation of his ego aside, I do love the new Response look Alanna. A lot more approachable. Less Amazonian warrior, which I¡¯m sure will disappoint some people.¡± ¡±Yeah, actually, how often on Response have hostile people just given up because they wanted you to step on them?¡± James had to know. Well, he didn¡¯t have to know, but he felt like he wanted to retaliate for Alanna¡¯s earlier joke. His girlfriend looked up with half a hard boiled egg in her mouth. ¡°Mmmph! Wow, that¡¯s a terrible question!¡± She said as she chewed. ¡°That happened once, and people keep bringing it up! But yeah, thanks cutie.¡± She addressed Anesh directly. ¡°I like the style too, and also, bonus, I don¡¯t have to fit into armor that I don¡¯t think will ever really be that comfortable.¡± ¡±¡­That happened?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°James I thought you were joking.¡± ¡±So did I!¡± ¡±Once.¡± Alanna insisted, futilely. JP sighed in an obvious attempt to get their attention. ¡°Still here, actually.¡± He said. ¡±Once still seems like one more time than I legit expected.¡± James ignored his friend. ¡°Like, you have to be committed to your kink to ask that in the middle of a fight or whatever.¡± Alanna ducked her head, a hint of a blush on her neck, though she struggled to keep it from spreading even though she didn¡¯t actually have that power. ¡°Can we go back to talking about Anesh and Keeka?¡± She asked. ¡±Sure!¡± James eagerly whipped back around to look at his boyfriend. He¡¯d just fully committed to not paying attention to JP at this point, until JP either gave up or actually told them what the fuck he was here for. ¡°So hey, it¡¯s been a little bit. Are things going okay with you two? Everything feeling okay in the whole greater polycule we¡¯ve got going on? I know you know you can tell us if there¡¯s problems, but sometimes it helps if I just ask directly.¡± He explained himself. JP cleared his throat. ¡°Can I¡­ just¡­¡± With a deep sigh, Anesh dropped his fork and shook his head. ¡°JP, just¡­ just get into it, would you? I don¡¯t want to have this conversation while you¡¯re here.¡± ¡±Thank you.¡± Being acknowledged was like catnip for JP. ¡°¡­James is right. There¡¯s another Camille in the area. Cam says she¡¯s probably here hunting her specifically. So our Cam is grounded, in case that comes up. Nate said he was¡­ doing something about it, so if you see him, tell him I want to know what the fuck that means. I¡¯m working on sourcing silver bullets for the inevitable showdown with the Last Line at some point, because apparently that works on Camilles. And that¡¯s actually about all I have for you.¡± JP nodded to himself, making the small motion an almost graceful little addition to his words. ¡°Now is it my turn to discuss relationship woes?¡± Anesh tried to shove JP out of the booth, which didn¡¯t work for reasons of both lack of leverage and also that JP was a little heavier than he looked. ¡°Get out of here.¡± Anesh tried instead. ¡°We¡¯re on a date.¡± ¡±Yeah, your dates are the only time I can fucking find all three of you in the same place at the same time.¡± JP said as he stood up, dusting off his lapel like it was an ingrained reflex. ¡°Anyway, now you know. Be on the lookout for a lethally dangerous blonde that isn¡¯t Alanna.¡± ¡±¡­I¡¯m dying my hair.¡± Alanna announced after JP left. ¡°I¡¯m thinking orange and purple. Turn myself into a sunset.¡± Anesh raised his eyebrows at her over lunch. ¡°Is it odd that I feel like we should have a magic for that by now? I can change skin color, after all. That¡¯s more work than hair color.¡± ¡±You can still do that?¡± ¡±Yeah, it copied over before¡­ I died.¡± Anesh took a breath. ¡°Sorry. Bad memories.¡± James reached out to offer a hand, and Alanna did the same next to him. ¡±Hey, it¡¯s okay. Talking about feelings is our thing here. No one¡¯s mad at you for being upset that one of you died.¡± He let Anesh weave fingers into his own and Alanna¡¯s hands at the same time, his boyfriend looking like he wasn¡¯t sure if he should put his fork down for this. Anesh eventually just pulled back and went back to eating, honestly feeling better to know the other two were supportive. He made a mental note to focus on this moment when he shared the day with himself later; a trick he was developing to make his life feel more like a single interlinked event and less like four people who happened to start from the same spot. ¡°Ahh, I feel like I don¡¯t deserve you two sometimes. Or Keeka, either. And that¡¯s going alright, since you asked. I¡¯m worried that he¡¯s¡­ a little too eager, maybe? When I want to go slower? But I do like him.¡± ¡±You two are very cute when you team up on people, also.¡± James said with a smirk. ¡°But you should just talk to him; he¡¯s a lot calmer than everyone assumes, he¡¯ll understand. Also I support Alanna¡¯s hairstyle choices. You¡¯ll match Zhu when he¡¯s on you.¡± ¡±Oh! I didn¡¯t even think of that!¡± Alanna snapped her fingers in a delighted realization. ¡°How¡¯s he doing, anyway?¡± ¡±Tired.¡± James grimaced. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ tired a lot. The purple that modified my brain really helped, but he¡¯s still getting exhausted every time he ¡®eats¡¯, and it¡¯s a lot worse for him than it was for me. I think he¡¯s trying to conserve energy for when he¡¯s useful, like on delves and things, and I wish he wouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡±Oof. Have we tried-¡° Alanna stopped, tilting her head back as she got a message prompt through her skulljack. ¡°Okay, gotta go.¡± She said, leaning down to shove an excessive amount of tomato and cucumber into her mouth before slipping out of the booth. ¡°Mh muuvh ooh oow!¡± She grunted as she waved and turned to hustle toward the stairwell that would take her to the Response basement, something having come up that required her attention sooner rather than later. ¡±We love you too!¡± James and Anesh yelled after her as she wove through the tables that were half full with other members of the Order and also a few new hires that were looking distinctly out of place and confused as they waited for the orientation meeting later. ¡±Do you remember a few years ago,¡± Anesh asked as Alanna waved over her shoulder and vanished around the corner, ¡°when we were talking about telling her about the dungeon for the first time?¡± James smiled at the memory. ¡±We were fencing!¡± His boyfriend nodded happily. ¡°We were. I was winning.¡± He laughed softly at James¡¯ pout. ¡°I just¡­ I have this memory of talking to you about Alanna, and thinking that I fancied her so much, but I knew you did too, and I didn¡¯t want to step on your toes.¡± ¡±I didn¡¯t even realize at the point that we were flirting with each other all the time.¡± James admitted. ¡±We were?!¡± Anesh couldn¡¯t pretend to be shocked as James just leveled a stare at him. ¡°Right, right, I¡¯ll trust you for now.¡± He said. ¡°Did you ever think we¡¯d end up here?¡± ¡±Not even a little bit.¡± James said, finishing the last of his salad. ¡°But I¡®m so glad we did.¡± He said as he stood up from the booth. ¡°Also I also have to go, and I¡¯m mad at JP for sapping our valuable date time, because it¡¯s time for me to introduce a bunch of new people to the Order.¡± ¡±Have fun. If you make another basement, I¡¯m calling the fire department on us for some kind of violation.¡± Anesh leaned over to let James plant a kiss on his lips before he, too, headed off to work. And then it was just Anesh, finishing his food in a few quiet minutes before clearing their table. He didn¡¯t feel abandoned though; for one thing he could keep up a couple conversations online in his head, but also, he had some stuff to get to as well. Research was working with the Library tablet today, and Anesh wanted to see if his mathematical breakdown of how a certain magical effect worked held up under detailed scrutiny from the analytical dungeontech. Also he¡¯d read James¡¯ own report on the Utah spellcasting system, and since he had all night, he wanted to see how far he could push a single towel. That was, of course, assuming Keeka didn¡¯t distract him. The ratroach was a little too eager, a little too excited, for Anesh to be perfectly comfortable. But ¡®not perfectly comfortable¡¯ didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t quickly falling in love all over again, and if Keeka asked him to drop what he was doing to go on some kind of small romantic adventure, Anesh would probably do it without a second thought. Meanwhile, his other boyfriend had an actual job to do. Compared to that, Anesh¡¯s night was positively relaxing. Well. It would be, after he cleaned up their table. ____ ¡°Magic is real. Hello. Welcome to orientation for your new job at the Order of Endless Rooms. The name is not metaphorical or aspirational. My name is James Lyle, and I¡¯m here to give you a brief overview of what you can expect your first week to be like here, as well as to field any questions, but let me get through my little speech first before you ask, because I bet I¡¯ll cover at least half of them in the next couple minutes. We don¡¯t know what magic is. We call it magic, but honestly, a lot of it follows very specific rules. A lot of it is also human-centric in a very suspicious way. You might hear the term ¡®xenotech¡¯ thrown around, because often times it behaves like technology-but-weird. You might also hear the term ¡®dungeontech¡¯, and that¡¯s because of where it comes from. We call them dungeons because they bear a lot of similarities to the idea of a dungeon in a lot of games. Places that are filled with dangers and challenges, that operate on their own often inscrutable rules, hidden under our noses. One of the primary roles of the Order of Endless Rooms is to be good stewards for these places. Our job is not to eliminate them, or even specifically to take control of them. Though if anyone wants to share, they¡¯re going to have to present us with a really good case for why we should let them, because these days, I¡¯m not inclined to trust a lot of other groups. But it¡¯s on the table, and I want to make that clear. Many of us spend a lot of time in dungeons. A non-zero amount of that time is combat. You¡¯re going to meet people here who are actually pretty dangerous, and you might be surprised by who they are when you realize it. The nicest girl in this building is a living railgun. It can take some getting used to, which is one of the reasons why we emphasize communication, understanding, and patience around here. The tradeoff for throwing ourselves into mortal peril all the time is that dungeons do reward you. Knowledge, strength, party tricks, even just the unique experience of having been in one can change a person in subtle ways. They¡¯ve got a lot to offer. And if any of you are interested, we can share that with you. That¡¯s another point about the Order. We¡¯re not interested in hoarding power, we¡¯re interested in purposeful and deliberate use of it. No one person, in our opinion, should be elevated above all others. If they are, then it becomes their duty to reach down and lift others up. If you take nothing else away from this today, remember that. You¡¯ve all been hired for a variety of reasons. Maybe you¡¯re good at something specific that we need, maybe you¡¯re the kind of person that thrives on adventure and adversity, maybe you¡¯re really, really angry about how shit things are and you want to do something to help, maybe you just have a good attitude. We¡¯ve got places for a lot of different kinds of people here. You may have noticed we also have a lot of different kinds of people here. I know that all of you are aware of that, because it¡¯s part of the interview, but let¡¯s just lay it out. Not everything that comes out of the dungeons is personal power, and not all the creatures those places create are enemies or monsters. A lot of them are intelligent, often friendly people. A lot of them need help. A lot of them have been through¡­ some stuff. The Order of Endless Rooms has built a habit of collecting people who have been through some stuff, and giving them a place to heal, grow, and thrive. And that place is now open to you as well, with all the perks and responsibilities that come along with it. Just remember that the camracondas and ratroaches and infomorphs are all alive, just like you. You might be wondering what, exactly, you¡¯ve gotten yourself into. Good question! The answer is both simple and complicated. In front of you is a list of questions, including for your preferred availability - actually preferred, don¡¯t lie to us to look good - and you can fill that out after I¡¯m done rambling and we do one other thing. From there, our local mastermind will assign you to work with one of the different departments or projects that we have going. You¡¯ll be there for a week or two. Long enough to start to learn if you like it or not, and to get a handle on a small part of our overall operation and culture. Then you¡¯ll be rotated to another spot. This will happen a few times over the course of your introductory period, and after that it basically stops when you decide you¡¯ve found the place you want to be. A lot of our projects are temporary positions, so in the future you may find this happening again. Or maybe you¡¯ll be the one proposing a new project. That¡¯s just kinda how it goes around here. We aren¡¯t wasteful with our resources, but we¡¯d rather they get used than hoarded, so there¡¯s a lot of flexibility. It¡¯s more important to us that you do something you care about and you do it passionately than that you fill a specific job. Sometimes we do need a specific job. When that happens, we have ways of getting people up to speed. Anyone in the Order, myself included, can be shuffled into emergency positions. Though that shouldn¡¯t ever last more than a week or so. As for what those projects are? We like to do things that work toward making the world better. Community outreach, search and rescue, construction, infrastructure development, medical aid. Imagine the kind of basic spread of ¡®this would be nice¡¯ sort of ideas, but then imagine that we have literal magic. I know I mentioned the magic earlier. I feel like I should mention it again. Magic is real. And sometimes, magic is very, very stupid. Sometimes it¡¯s teaching you about phone book formatting. And sometimes it¡¯s curing cancer. Sometimes it¡¯s stupid and profound, and you get the ability to slightly cool one spot and heat up another spot and you think ¡®this seems¡­ not helpful for dungeon delving¡¯ and you might be right but then your engineering team has a fucking aneurysm over the potential. And then you have a new project that involves trying to get a local electric company to help build a large scale free energy source. I see three hands up, and let me cut you off. Yes, you can work with that project. Yes, that is real. You all got to see hints of it during the interview, and just hanging around. Permit me the delightful pleasure of listing things that we happen to have in this building. A break room table that switches bodies. A laserdisc that makes you slightly resistant to drowning. A spell that creates towels. Psychotropic laser pointers. Highly volatile plants that grow organic highlighter ink. A crown that makes you want to write poetry, among other things. A meat-seeking rolling office chair. A chair that¡¯s hard to remember that is mercifully a different chair. Personalized Car Talk episodes. Computers that are more wireless than you are thinking when I say ¡®wireless¡¯. A second, different cure for cancer than the one I said initially. People who are maps, and if that one is the one you get confused on, I¡¯m very sorry. That¡¯s the good side. Here¡¯s the reverse. The world is more dangerous than you suspected, and some of you probably already thought it was pretty dangerous. Two years ago, something called a pillar pulled a stunt that dumped the contents of a dungeon into the high school that was on top of it. Hundreds of people died before we got there, and some of our own people went down trying to stop her. One year ago, an egomaniacal cult leader depopulated a small city in his attempt to turn himself into a god. Thousands dead, and the city is still aggressively forgotten by the public. Last month, a group of authoritarian normalcy enforcers tried to burn Yamhill to the ground on the off chance that it might kill the people we rescued from them. They were keeping their prisoners, human and otherwise, as livestock. This is on top of the mundane evils of the world. There are active wars going on. I try to keep up on what¡¯s happening with ¡®normal people¡¯, and I¡¯m pretty sure parts of South America are heading in a bad direction on that front. There¡¯s child slavery and human trafficking. There¡¯s poverty, exploitation, and all the bland dehumanization that comes from colonialism and capitalism working hand in hand. We are¡­ a few hundred people, half of whom aren¡¯t recognized as people by any major government. We want to help. But we¡¯re too small for a lot of those problems. We do what we can, even if some days it feels hopeless. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s hopeless. And that¡¯s why you¡¯re here. Because there are people who care, people who are clever and kind, who are worth taking a chance on. And I think that all of you would do well if we gave you a chance to do some good. There are thirty six of you here today, which represents a significant percentage increase in our organization¡¯s population. I¡¯m not pinning all my hopes on you alone, but still, I hope you¡¯ll join me in trying to shape the future. Now. In front of you on your tables is a container that I cleverly used to hide your intake forms. Go ahead and open that now. Yes, those look like bath beads and sticks. I don¡¯t know what to tell you. Sometimes magic looks a little silly, if you don¡¯t know what it does. Don¡¯t poke the green ones yet. This is your first step into our world, that I hope you¡¯ll make your world too. If you were wondering why we¡¯d hire people without qualifications or formal education? Well, here you go. Some of you have already figured it out. Before you leave this room, you¡¯ll be qualified to provide first aid, you¡¯ll speak three languages, you¡¯ll know how to drive stick, do gymnastics, and how to listen. That last one might be the most important skill available. There¡¯s a few other things in there that are important too. This is what I can give you. Our world is often dangerous, but I want to keep you all safe as best I can, so you can help me protect everyone else. I¡¯ve asked you to save the green ones because, for a variety of reasons, you¡¯re the first to use these particular orbs. And I¡¯d like to go through the list and have you all share what changes you make to our headquarters. The Lair might be new to you now, but before today is over, you will have made your mark on it. And it is my hope that it¡¯ll make a positive mark on you, too. Speaking of people who¡¯ve made marks, since none of you ran in fear at any point, you¡¯re all formally invited to one of the only formal ceremonies that the Order of Endless Rooms actually has. That¡¯ll be next week, and you can see what happens to people who fit in too well. We give them responsibilities, as some kind of terrible punishment. It happened to me, and this is me warning you, it can happen to you, too. That¡¯s my speech. Let¡¯s go to some questions now, since I see all of you have at least two. That¡¯s not magic on my part, I just know how this goes.¡± _____ ¡°Can you be a good person if you never hurt any bad people?¡± James asked as he adjusted the biker¡¯s leathers he was wearing before moving to check Spire-Cast-Behind¡¯s armor. The Akashic Sewer had long played fast and loose with the idea of banning stuff from its premise. Mostly in the form of ripping away anything that it seemed to count as a weapon or electronic toy. Going off of the nebulous and arbitrary limits of what a high school usually used and never codified, that meant that laptops without minesweeper installed were usually fine, but cell phones and drones were no gos. Lately, it had escalated to body armor, which was annoying at best and potentially lethal at worst. There were small mercies at least; the door to the Sewer was actually a door now and not a pipe-lined hole in the ground, which meant that when stuff got torn off your person it wasn¡¯t going to threaten to break in half as it strangled you by getting stuck in your own clothing. It just¡­ pushed backward. It was actually a lot like the green orb totem that repelled cables that the¡¯d found a couple weeks ago in Officium Mundi, shoving back against things it didn¡¯t like. Though the body armor repellant was still growing in strength, so you could wear it. It would just be a constant force shoving against the kevlar and hard plastic shell, trying to pin you to the wall where the door vanished once you were through. So they¡¯d done what they did best and adapted. And that meant essentially heavy leathers or sports padding. Both of which looked hilarious on camracondas, one of which looked hot on Arrush. At least in James¡¯ opinion. ¡°Of course. I think.¡± Spire answered as she double checked her heavy-duty mechanical arms for range of motion. The battery life on them was only about forty minutes compared to the far, far more efficient lighter packs or even the camraconda rifle mounting. But, again, the dungeon of the night made certain choices better. ¡°Why ask?¡± ¡°Mmh, just felt like asking you a probing question.¡± James said as he buttoned up part of a jacket sleeve to a completely unrelated button sewn onto the back of the garment that Spire was wearing in defiance of her body shape. ¡°Just as part of the trial that this delve sorta is.¡± ¡±Why are you testing yourself here?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind turned her eye up toward James, her colorful cabling reminiscent of the kind of snakes you were never supposed to pick up twisting lithely under her coverings. ¡°Are you sick? We can take you to a medical.¡± ¡±I¡¯m not sick.¡± James laughed. ¡°And no, we¡¯re here to test a few people on how they work together.¡± He dusted his hands off and shouldered his backpack, the last piece of prep was to affix the heavy filter mask over his face before he was ready to go. Alex already had her mask on, Simon¡¯s was hanging from one strap as he waited for the others. Spire-Cast-Behind and TQ had their own camraconda style masks on, and it felt bad because it was a lot less comfortable for them than for a human in terms of how much their faces moved. But at least they could speak unmuffled; the running theory was that their voice speakers counted as prosthetics and the Sewer didn¡¯t care to ban them. Arrush didn¡¯t have a mask, because he¡¯d melt through it, and James thought that was the dumbest fucking thing ever. He also thought Arrush wanting to come along was a bad idea anyway, but his new boyfriend had been adamant about keeping James safe, even if it meant going back to the place that had created him. ¡±This never stops being weird.¡± The uniformed human who had let them into the building said, shaking his head. ¡±Yes, James is very strange.¡± TQ replied to the school¡¯s designated police officer. His name was Rourke, and for a little while, he was one of the people the Sewer had targeted with a hostile infomorph that made him violent, unstable, and confused. James had restrained himself from making a comment about how he was already a cop so the Sewer didn¡¯t have a lot of distance to go. It turned out that Rourke himself was¡­ fine. He was fine. Once the infomorph parasite was dealt with, he¡¯d agreed to assist with containing the dungeon, though he didn¡¯t want much more to do with the Order of Endless Rooms. The defensive assignment infomorph that had been in his head hadn¡¯t ended up becoming a person, either. He was, apparently, one of those people for whom magic and weird things could be acknowledged, but that wouldn¡¯t adapt to them. Wouldn¡¯t change. But he sure would comment on how weird camracondas were. It was the kind of thing that was so petty that James wanted to say it was entirely ignorable. But also, he felt a deep and painful rage at the fact that some of his friends had to survive being prisoners to a mad god for their whole lives, only to end up being belittled by this jackass. He let TQ¡¯s joking banter with Rourke cool him off, opting for smirking slightly at the officer who kept staring at the rusted blue security door that had shown itself this time next to the big storage fridge in the cafeteria kitchen. ¡°Alright friends.¡± James said, including Zhu in that as the navigator fluttered to life around him, a glowing orange mantle of feathers thicker than he¡¯d ever been before. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. Spire, Simon, and Alex take point on this one. The rest of us will back you up.¡± ¡±Yes boss.¡± Simon said easily. Alex just nodded, while Spire-Cast-Behind threw glances at the two humans that seemed to have figured out something that she wasn¡¯t in on yet. As a group, in a combat formation that was becoming more and more practiced, they moved into the second worst dungeon James was aware of. Their formation only a little bit staggered as James settled a comforting hand on Arrush¡¯s back, letting the ratroach know that he was there for him if he needed to talk. But Arrush had already determined that he was going to face this personal challenge head on. So, in they went. The first room was almost normal. Not exactly normal; it was a dark concrete box with some kind of dampness on the floor that made the stone treacherously slick. But despite only having a single flickering dying light tube overhead, and being filled with stacks of dirty desks and chairs in a style that didn¡¯t match the high school outside, it could have been¡­ a normal storage room. Which, Spire-Cast-Behind quickly point out, was ominous as fuck if you considered that anyone not paying attention might walk in here without realizing that this was the kind of place that sealed the door behind you. The second room abandoned all pretense. Here the concrete was rougher. The pipes bulging out of the wall like massive worms, with cracks that hissed steam or dripped corrosive liquids. It would have been pitch black without their light sources, which would have made it easy for the fist sized roach things to snap into their ankles or cables. Instead, the majority of the bugs that rushed them in ones and twos got intercepted by a combination of Simon¡¯s makeshift quarterstaff and Spire looking at them, pulped into bursts of red sparks and hissing green ichor. The third room looked like it was a twisted gym locker room. Most of the lockers were rusted hulks, sealed behind magical dungeon locks that needed green sparks to open, but Simon had some from a previous delve and they cracked a couple to stash the books inside. Avoiding the puddles on the floor just seemed logical, and they collectively decided not to risk the massive door with the frosted glass window that shifted with threatening shadows. The fourth room was the first one where they had to go through a pipe tunnel to get to it, and they were promptly ambushed by a tumorous mass of rat flesh that exploded when it died. The fourth room also offered a choice in path, something the Sewer had been doing more lately. After clearing the bugs and violent infomorph fragments, James, Zhu, and Arrush stayed behind while the others split off down the two paths and scouted ahead. One side apparently went to a dead end, with a drywall pylon in the middle of a lake of something that smelled like Axe body spray even through the filter masks. Simon had climbed it with Spire¡¯s help, and found another source of the unknown purple sparks at the top. The other path led deeper in, and once reunited, the party continued on. Another room, this one over a massive pit. They fended off an ambush from falling screaming crow-wasps that reminded James far too much of Banana. None of them would surrender or accept the offer of freedom, choosing to throw themselves over the edge of the perilous pipe bridge when caught rather than be taken from the dungeon. Another tunnel, this one with some kind of mushroom that sprayed spores on anything that moved, a coat of fresh fungus growing from wherever it touched at high speed. Alex hit it at a distance with a water balloon full of vinegar, and, worryingly, reaped a harvest of red sparks for her trouble. Another room, this one with multiple classroom doors on the left and right walls, and more overhead as well. They took them in turn, unsealing them with their red sparks and solving the puzzles inside to collect more greens. Or, in one case, finding the door open already and a nest of ratroaches living there. They¡¯d attacked on sight, but there was a distinct difference between the suicidal assault of something that worshiped the dungeon¡¯s love of violence, and something that was just terrified. It had taken almost no effort for the three paladin aspirants to subdue the nest without injuries to either side, but significantly more effort to convince them to telepad out. But they did do it, while Arrush stood at James¡¯ side, his uncovered claws digging into James¡¯ hand as he waited nervously. Another tunnel. They found an intersection, which would have been a devious way to split them up or get them lost if it weren¡¯t for how quickly one of the paths revealed itself to be a dead end and a trap when one of the pipes tried to grab them. They hadn¡¯t actually managed to kill that one, even as a full party working together, and that was worrying. Without heavy weaponry, there was only so much people could do against two inch thick iron. They still got away though, and continued. A cavernous room lit by glowing waterfalls of impossibly radioactive sludge. They fought one of the frog-dogs, and James learned that he could in fact turn parts of it from frog to bat. It had been a moment of vindication for him, and total confusion for the thing that had been trying to kill them. But also, something about the change had calmed the frog-dog down in a rapid and almost unnatural way, and Spire had gotten the big creature teleported away to the medical team on standby in the Lair as well. A room with a series of ledges made out of hissing boilers and pipes that heated and cooled at random. There was an easy path through, but Simon and Alex took advantage of their supernatural mobility and also Spire¡¯s help strategically freezing them to scale parts of the long room and collect more purple sparks from the plinths scattered around overhead. A room where they were attacked by a feral swarm of ratroaches, nothing behind their eyes but gleeful violence. Arrush had slipped into the fight when Alex took an injury, effortlessly moving through the pack that screamed and clawed and stabbed at the defensive formation of the Order. In many ways, the Sewer was hard for him; this was where he suffered for years before being freed, and he never expected that freedom besides. Seeing the people suffering here like him hurt. But in other ways, this was easy. These¡­ weren¡¯t people. It was, he knew, too easy to delegitimize the existence of others. But in this case, it was a simple fact. These were hollow nothing things, biologically incapable of anything more than hunger and joy at causing pain. And he cut through them like he was made for it. In the next room, they found a ratroach that was also made for killing. Among upturned cafeteria tables coming out of the dirt floor like standing stones, a series of wet floor signs that were so yellow they set off everyone¡¯s Geiger counters guarded a sunken pool in the floor. A bounty of shaper substance, enough to fully fix every ratroach the Order had rescued and more; the trio taking point had moved to secure the room, clearing out the small bugs and vine limbs, making sure there were no conversion maggots or carpet shrooms anywhere. And while doing that, they¡¯d been jumped by the solitary ratroach that had claimed this place for its own. Ten feet long, chitin coming off it like spikes, a twisted face with an extra mouth that never stopped laughing as it pounced and tried to murder them all. Everyone had fought that, and they¡¯d been lucky and skilled enough to get out with only a few minor injuries per person. Another tunnel, another room, another tunnel, another room, multiple dead ends and time spent searching branches, and TQ suggested to James that maybe the dungeon didn¡¯t want them leaving anymore. James might have agreed, but he wasn¡¯t leading this delve. And he wouldn¡¯t call it until it was a serious risk. It was a moot point anyway. In the next tunnel of pipes, Alex and Spire collectively put together something that no one else had even noticed. The intersections that led ¡®deeper¡¯ always had specific marks on the shattered pipes overhead. They always had something glowing; Alex even commented it was the game design trick of leading the player with light. They tested it for a couple more paths, and it seemed to hold up. After that, as they were starting to get tired, they used the information to skip over side paths and go straight to the ¡®end¡¯ of the dungeon. There were, James knew, deeper parts of the Sewer. Places where the pipe tunnels cut sideways and led to¡­ it might be accurate to call them parallel copies of the place. Complete with their own populations of prisoners and dungeon toys. But this time, they headed straight to the arena that guarded the exit. The mockery of a basketball court continued to offend James, but he noticed something interesting about the stands full of ratroaches and other creations. The first time he, Anesh, and Alanna had been here, there had been a lot of salvaged human clothing among them. Football gear and backpacks and casual teenager clothing, all tattered and in scraps, trophies from the dead. Now, though? They still wore similar styles, but it was¡­ different. The details were wrong. Letters were twisted, the styles were off, the material was wrong. The dungeon hadn¡¯t been killing and looting anyone for a while. So it was making its own false trophies. James smirked at it. And at the towering white-furred ratroach woman that dominated the center of the court. Before the group could move, Arrush took a step forward, looking around the fire-lit cavern like he was almost nostalgic. ¡±If you need help,¡± Spire-Cast-Behind offered quickly, ¡°scream loudly, and we will move.¡± Arrush huffed once as he looked up at the endlessly remade face of the thing that had been his master for long enough that he¡¯d lost count of the days. ¡±Wellllllcooooom baaaack!¡± The ratroach¡¯s wet voice had a twisted melody to it as she stretched out the words. ¡°Kneeeew yoooh wooooullldn¡¯t leeeave meeeee!¡± She seemed almost¡­ happy to see Arrush? Her face was split into a massive smile, polished fangs that glittered like gemstones showing. The rest of her was similarly indulgent; opalescent spirals of chitin that twisted across her hide, her fur a shimmering white that seemed incapable of acquiring the filth and poisons of the Sewer. James and Zhu set a paired hand on Arrush¡¯s shoulder, and his friend took a long breath of the smoke filled and toxic air. He stared up at the Beautiful One, the twisted monster that had forced him to change with the shaper substance over and over, making him a better soldier, a better enforcer of her will and the dungeon¡¯s will through her. So many times that it was dangerous for him to change again now. And not just him, but Keeka as well. She had stolen so many futures from them. And she looked so thrilled that he was back. Not just happy; desperate. And suddenly, Arrush realized, there was a gap between him and this place that he could never, would never, and didn¡¯t need to cross back over again. Then he tilted his head back to look at James. ¡°Is this what I was afraid of?¡± He asked in a soft rasp that barely carried over the rattling metal of the fence around them and the jeers of the things behind it. ¡±To be fair, she is the size of a bus.¡± James said glibly. ¡°That¡¯s a little scary.¡± ¡±Nnoooooo iggnhooooriing!¡± The Beautiful One screamed, dropping to plant all seven limbs on the gravel, even the ones clutching weapons. She lunged forward toward them, sprays of loose rock flying into the concrete bleachers of screaming and jeering Sewer creations. Two thousand pounds of heavily modified murderous Akashic Sewer creation came to an abrupt halt as Spire-Cast-Behind and TQ collectively locked eyes on her. ¡°If you would like to have a private moment, you are not allowed.¡± Spire told Arrush. ¡°She is very heavy. And you deserve better.¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Arrush agreed suddenly. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡±You good to leave?¡± James asked. ¡±I am. There was never anything here for me.¡± Arrush smiled, shaking with laughter that brought tears to his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I made this about me.¡± Zhu batted him on the shoulder with a feathered projection. ¡°Even I know that no one minds. You needed something different to heal. Now! Let¡¯s take their stuff and run! That¡¯s how James heals from trauma!¡± The various creatures behind the chain link fence of the bleachers were starting to realize something was wrong, so the group rushed to complete their task. Sixty green sparks opened half-buried lockers, yielding another eight Sewer lesson books, three hundred red sparks cracked the final door that would let them out to a different part of the high school than where they started, thrown open by Arrush and held by officer Rourke on the other side as the camracondas slithered backward keeping an eye on the Beautiful One. And all the while, Spire-Cast-Behind called out over them, raising her volume to be heard with sharp clarity. ¡°You were offered freedom once.¡± She told the Beautiful One. ¡°Nothing has changed. You can leave with us. Anyone can. We could take you all. Who is bold enough to try?¡± Many of them screeched louder, chittering wet hisses and barks mixed with a dark buzzing from the crowd. But Spire, even focused on the massive ratroach that had twisted her own body to be what she thought was a beautiful weapon, could spot the few that didn¡¯t scream. That had corrosive tears running from their eyes as terror and the threat of their peers kept them from lunging for freedom. ¡°Left side, two in, the ratroach with the red fur. One row up, three farther, the crow. Right side, ratroach with a broken arm, at the front pressed into the fence. Another at the top of the cage, the one trying to sneak over the back.¡± Spire quietly relayed the locations to Alex and Simon. And Arrush and James, who had turned around to join them now that their exit was ready to go. ¡°I¡¯ll take the left side.¡± Alex said with a snarl as the camracondas kept the massive threat of the Beautiful One in place. ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to break through.¡± ¡°With you.¡± Simon said. ¡°Arrush, get the escapee. James¡­¡± ¡°On it.¡± James moved quickly, ducking past TQ and making damn sure not to break line of sight. A quick application of [Separate Alloy] ripped a hole in the chain link fence, and the terrified ratroach screamed as it fell through the gap where it had been shoved by the press of bodies behind it. James caught the thing - light, too light, like it had never eaten a meal in its life - in one arm, while his other hand made a finger gun and [Paved] the two ratroaches with knives out that lunged with feral hunger as soon as an opening presented. The spell, barely enough to injure a human, splattered their corrosive blood across the crowd that surged for the gap in the fence. James felt claws and teeth sink into his left arm while with his right he backhanded the next thing that came for him, backpedaling to make space. Arrush was already running for the door carrying a ratroach paralyzed with fear, and Alex and Simon were busy methodically funneling what seemed like half the things on their side into creating a barricade of bodies before they got their two targets out. The rescues that could run, ran. Panicked, maddened flight. The last desperate attempt to flee from creatures that knew in their hearts they were already dead. But they made it through the door, Alex and Arrush and James right behind them. Spire-Cast-Behind called out to the Beautiful One again. ¡°We will be back. For you, for anyone. We will never stop coming back. Please consider accepting our help.¡± As she called, and everyone converged on the door, there was just one last thing. As Simon felt a sudden curious urge, and changed his jogging course toward the exit to move past one of the basketballs laying on the court. There had been basketballs here before, probably; it was a basketball court after all. But he couldn¡¯t remember ever having seen one. When he got closer, this one looked clearly in theme for this dungeon, a little too bulbous, with little white bumps across it like it was far too organic. But before he could steer away from it, one last thing popped into his vision. The number of purple sparks it needed. A number well within what he¡¯d collected. Calling an alert to the others, Simon reached down to touch the basketball, the lights flowing out of his hand and into the surface, before it cracked open. Sinuous white strands dripping from the inside, a wet fleshy interior that smelled like blood and oil through his mask. And out of it, something moved. A flat body the size of a quarter, four legs of black metal with little spines all the way down them. And one single amber eye on its back that stared up at Simon without any discernible emotion. It stood on the edge of its egg, looking at him, like it was expecting something. ¡±Fuck.¡± Simon said. And then stuck his gloved hand out to it. ¡°Come on. The door¡¯s waiting, if you wanna go.¡± The simple amalgam of parts leapt forward in a flash. Ignoring his hand and wrapping its legs around his wrist; its eye pressed against the back of his arm just before his hand, flicking around as it took in the new world. The spines of its legs sinking into his armor with ease and holding it in place. ¡±James!¡± Simon yelled as he ran for the door, the last one of the team leaving the Sewer behind. ¡°I fucked up!¡± _____ ¡±Good work today Spire.¡± James said after they returned to the Lair and were in the process of cleaning up. He needed another long bath after that, but he had one thing left to do. The camraconda shook off her armature pack, hissing a sigh at the relief of the weight. ¡±Thank. I was trying to be like you.¡± She said. ¡±Yeah.¡± James smiled. ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I have a question for you.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind looked over at him as he pulled off leather padding and tossed it in the bin of things that would be getting purified with the really strong chemicals. ¡°You are an attractive personality, but I believe I am not romantically inclined today.¡± TQ¡¯s burst of giggling hisses cut them both off as he rolled into James¡¯ feet. ¡°You have a reputation!¡± He announced joyously. ¡°It should be JP but it is you!¡± ¡±¡­Okay, well, to be fair¡­¡± James was smiling, not even offended by being shot down for a proposition he hadn¡¯t been about to make. ¡°No, I was going to say. Next week there¡¯s a thing where I¡¯m announcing a few new paladins. You should be one of them.¡± ¡±No.¡± Spire said instantly. ¡°I am the wrong choice.¡± That wasn¡¯t exactly the answer James had expected from her. ¡°Uh¡­¡± he looked down at TQ, who was no longer rolling in amusement. ¡°Why?¡± ¡±It should be him.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind pointed with her tail at the other camraconda. ¡°Are you blind? He kept our people all alive. Saved us, saved me, over and over. And is closer to you than I am now, too. He is what you want. Not me.¡± TQ pulled himself up, any amusement gone from the grey-blue camraconda¡¯s mannerisms. ¡°No, but my no is correct.¡± He said simply. ¡°You are wrong. I did what was needed of me because I had to. I had no choices. Now I do. And I choose¡­ to be less.¡± TQ straightened his body out, staring down Spire-Cast-Behind. ¡°I am not meant to be a hero. I am meant to be soft and silly. I have found my place, and it is not this. You seek the future. You seek the challenges and the problems to sink fangs into. And you deserve this. Honor, for the honorable.¡± He hissed sharply at her, almost like a challenge. Spire-Cast-Behind looked back at him almost curiously. ¡°Did you plan to say that?¡± She asked, the volume on her voice subdued. ¡±Yes.¡± TQ answered her bluntly, and James had to bite his lip to keep from bursting out laughing as he felt like his day had looped itself. ¡°Now say yes to what you want, and prepare to be recognized for what you already do.¡± Spire looked up to James, but he just shook his head as he cleared his throat. ¡°Uh, yeah¡­ everything TQ just said, actually. I also had a thing prepared, but¡­ yeah. Spire, you¡¯re the one I want. You have never once failed to step up for us, even when you barely knew who we were. You¡¯re kind and clever, but also brave and bold. You¡¯re it. You¡¯re the paladin archetype. If you say no, that¡¯s okay, but¡­¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind answered. ¡°I will say yes.¡± She added, more quietly. ¡°Now¡­ leave. I need to think. And also bathe. Before the smell becomes permanent.¡± ¡±God, that would be the kind of bullshit the Akashic Sewer would do.¡± James muttered grimly. But even that thought wouldn¡¯t keep him from feeling like it had been a good day as he went to join his boyfriend in scrubbing away the smell of ash and meat that clung to their skin and fur. Chapter 274 "The world sees the armor, the shield, the lance, but in private, to gentle beats, a knight shall dance." - Sir Cedric the Harmonious, Lofi Beats for the Medieval Knight You Always Wanted To Be- _____ James didn¡¯t have to go too deep into the Research basement to find who he was looking for, which was a small mercy. It was seven AM, he felt like he shouldn¡¯t be awake, but this was a big day for a lot of people. And James had prep work to do. He¡¯d woken up with too many people in his bed; Arrush and Keeka curled up in the coveted soft middle section, with James and Anesh pushed back to the edges over the course of the night and the way both ratroaches seemed to be aggressive with their tails while they slept. Alanna and Sarah were already up by the time James had yawned himself awake and extracted himself to throw on pants and head out. The two girls engaged in some kind of flirtation war in the kitchen, which James had slinked away from with a smile and the intention to not intrude. It was a great way to start the day. But it did mean that he hadn¡¯t gotten coffee or anything before coming into the Lair and starting to run down the checklist of final preparations that he¡¯d been setting up all week. Some of which had brought him here, to Research. A place that seemed to share James¡¯ opinion about seven AM; it was quiet down here, even the shellaxies were asleep. But at least, with the Lair having its own real living quarters now, the old style of having napping camracondas curled up in corners of the hallways was done. Now the basement was just cluttered, but in a way that felt like people knew where everything was. His prey were the only two people who were awake, sitting in the middle of the Big Room that Research had stopped using as personal workspaces, and instead transitioned fully into using as some kind of mad scientist lair. The shellaxy pen in the middle was surrounded by screens and whiteboards and corkboards, and while the former were all off the latter were covered in drawings and formula and recovered material and printed reports. All that was missing was some magnets and red string to connect¡­. Oh, no, there it was. James hadn¡¯t seen it on entry, because he¡¯d been looking at the board that was all purple orb variations by species, and that didn¡¯t have any red string. The room had a muffled feeling to it. Like all the ideas and tests and clashing systems of magic that got picked apart down here were taking a morning coffee break themselves while two men sat on rolling chairs on opposite sides of a desk piled with boxes and Officium Mundi dungeontech and talked in soft voices. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking over the civil logistics training documents that Karen gave us, and I¡¯m starting to realize that a bag of holding might not be as useful as we thought.¡± Reed told Nik, swirling something in the mug he stared down into. Nik was leaned precariously back in his chair, especially considering the chair had wheels. ¡°Really?¡± He asked, more out of an obligation to the conversation than actual curiosity as he stared at the ceiling with tired eyes. ¡°The throughput is too low and there¡¯s no specific pain point to apply it to.¡± Reed explained with the voice he used when he was walking through a problem himself. ¡°You can¡¯t stock a supermarket by hand, you know? You use a forklift. Mostly. The point is you can¡¯t forklift a bag of holding.¡± He hadn¡¯t noticed James approaching, instead staring at what was left of his drink like he wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted it or not. ¡°¡­ what about¡­ a standard sized shipping container of holding?¡± Nik asked, rocking back and forth on the swivel chair, his feet propped against the underside of the desk. Reed raised his eyebrows. ¡°Now that has legs.¡± He said, deciding to drain the dregs of whatever he had in the mug. Abruptly stopping, Nik focused on his fellow Researcher with a rapid shake of his head, short black hair whipping against his forehead from the force. ¡°No we shouldn¡¯t do that, James would get mad.¡± He said. ¡°Also when it goes wrong I don¡¯t want to fight an ambulatory shipping container.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true, I would.¡± James introduced himself to the conversation, leaning on the edge of a standing whiteboard that had ¡®teleport totem tests today, blue trials canceled¡¯ written on it. ¡°Gentlemen.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t you call me that.¡± Nik said as if on reflex as Reed tried not to jolt in surprise. James paused, not quite sure how to reply to that from Nik in particular. ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± With a sigh, Reed waved a hand over the stack of cardboard boxes that obscured half his form. ¡°He¡¯s been doing this for everything. Ignore it. Good morning.¡± ¡±No it¡¯s not.¡± Nik said, like being a contrarian was just on his to-do list today. Actually, James wasn¡¯t sure if it wasn¡¯t. ¡°Is this an infomorph thing?¡± He asked. ¡°Is that what¡¯s happening? Wait, no, I don¡¯t have time for this. I¡¯m here for several things, so this is an interrogation now and you¡¯re going to give me what I want because while I have been informed that I don¡¯t make the rules, I certainly do get a lot of access to weird things I ask for.¡± ¡±¡­Yeah, okay.¡± Reed said, like he¡¯d understood that. ¡°This is for the ceremony today, yeah? Not some new thing? Because I¡¯m already awake at 7 AM and I can only be pushed so far.¡± James nodded at him, or at least, in his general direction. Maybe Reed could see him at the angle he was sitting, James didn¡¯t know, and he was comfortably leaning now. ¡°Correct. First, my special request.¡± Reed¡¯s hand came up and opened one of the boxes, fishing around without looking before the young man eventually got annoyed enough to heave out a sigh and stand up to look for his target. ¡°Here.¡± He handed James a smaller cardboard box, the corrugated cardboard intently familiar to James¡¯ hands that had a lifetime of shoving trading cards in boxes exactly like this. ¡°Tests have been really hard to do for this, because it seems to be¡­ ugh¡­¡± ¡±Vibes based.¡± Nik grimly chimed in. ¡°Which you¡¯d think I¡¯d love, but it¡¯s just hard to explain what it does.¡± ¡±Yes. Well. That.¡± Reed sat back down, shoulders tense as he licked his lips and tried to explain to James anyway. ¡°Poetic might be a better way to say it. The thing clearly has its own consistent definitions for both ¡®winner¡¯ and ¡®momentum¡¯, but they¡¯re nebulous and flexible in a way that¡¯s hard to write reports on. Anyway, I¡¯m using a lot of words to tell you that it should do something. But what it does is tricky. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s gonna send Alex into a wall though.¡± Nik sighed. ¡°There goes my revenge plan.¡± He said. James and Reed both flicked narrowed eyes to him, expressions concerned and annoyed respectively, before they looked back at each other. ¡°Well, thanks.¡± James said, deciding to not ask why Nik was seeking revenge. He shook his head like that would shove that part of the conversation into its own convenient box. This just wasn¡¯t the day for it. ¡°How about the packages? Or should I ask the armory guys about that?¡± ¡±You should ask your boyfriend about that.¡± Reed said, and then rolled his head around before James could say anything. ¡°The human one. Wait, that might not¡­ Anesh. Anesh would know.¡± ¡±I also know.¡± Nik say cryptically. ¡±Are you okay?¡± James asked, ire and concern mixing in his words. Nik spun another loop in his chair. ¡°I dunno. I feel like I lost focus on what I actually wanted to do here, long term. And the whole thing today is just driving it home for me, that I held myself back. I got distracted hanging out here and making friends with mimics and playing with magic items, and I forgot I was supposed to be a hero or something.¡± He said in the same even tone that he¡¯d been using all conversation. A little snarky, but like there was nothing particularly weird about what he was throwing out there. ¡°Also I¡¯m tired. Anyway, the packages are in two parts stored upstairs, and they¡¯re labeled for if you need them for the ceremony or if they¡¯re for after.¡± ¡±He¡¯s been doing this too.¡± Reed explained to James. ¡±¡­what, having a midlife crisis at the age of¡­ Nik, how old are you? Eighteen?¡± ¡±I¡¯m twenty six.¡± ¡±Jesus, really? I mean¡­¡± ¡±No, it¡¯s too late, you said it. I¡¯m putting you on the revenge list.¡± James bit his lip and nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll look forward to it.¡± He settled on. ¡°Alright. Back to the actual questions, the gathering space?¡± ¡±I¡¯m heading up there in about twenty minutes.¡± Reed said. ¡°We have an interlocked totem setup that¡¯s been tested for exactly this kind of thing, but it does mean basically everyone in Recovery and anyone they have kidnapped for this are gonna be helping us move furniture in and out of the space. Twice. But hey, at least I¡¯ve got exercise potion.¡± He said it glibly, but James suddenly noticed just how different Reed was looking now than what his mental image of the guy was like. He wasn¡¯t some kind of specimen of peak human capability, he was still soft and plump, but there was a layer of muscle under it now. ¡°We should look into getting another place. An actual gathering space for big events, and not just a room that we can adjust the orange totem slider on.¡± ¡±I think we can probably do that.¡± James said. ¡°Hell, we can could probably get a good spot in Townton. Maybe build an amphitheater or something. I dunno. I feel like we should get some weird public works projects going on. Anyway. Thanks, I¡¯m gonna get moving, I¡¯ll see you two sciency boys tonight?¡± ¡±Don¡¯t you-¡° ¡±Nik I feel like you¡¯re causing unintentional gender conflict here. You, specifically. For these specific statements.¡± NIk paused in his spinning. ¡°Oh. Hadn¡¯t actually thought of that.¡± He said. And then smiled, chest shaking with a few silent laughs. ¡°I hadn¡¯t even considered it.¡± He repeated softly. ¡±Okay, that¡¯s really cool. I¡¯m gonna keep calling you whatever.¡± James said with a snap of his fingers, glad that someone was having a good morning. ¡°Later!¡± He walked off, Reed raising a hand behind him to send him on his way. _____ James left a different way than he¡¯d come in, heading for a different stairwell that would take him to a different basement. The elevator was convenient, and weirdly nowhere near its throughput limit for the Lair¡¯s population, but he felt like walking. There were people around now, even his short conversation bringing the time up to the point where Researchers who either just woke up or hadn¡¯t slept arrived to their various projects. Humans and camracondas, mostly, but James was happy to see a few ratroaches around and helping out as they adapted to their new world. Also at least one inhabitor, though he had to catch himself as he realized his brain had the stray thought that they were ¡®kinda human¡¯. That was reductive, incorrect, and also kinda just rude, though as far as James knew no inhabitor would care the first or last quality. He passed by several rooms with safety glass observation windows, closed off spaces that were set up as workstations or design labs. In one of them, a couple engineers that James was pretty sure never slept were tinkering with an increasingly complex prototype design for a space elevator; impossible magic making the fundamentally simple device a potential reality. In another, a cluster of computers sat powered down, waiting for testing with the latest half-organic skulljack enabler programs. Another room had a workbench covered in construction tools and a series of half-assembled totem components, the lights off but the orange orbs on a high shelf illuminating it in an almost grim light anyway. It was comfortable. Familiar, really. This wasn¡¯t just a basement they stuck random collected dungeontech in anymore. This was a place where professionals - homegrown or otherwise - came together to learn about the magical world and turn weird effects into tools. And James would love to just spend a month down here. But today was a big day. He headed past a dozen different cool ideas and experiments that were being kept isolated for safety, moving through the mildly confusing concrete basement halls until he got to the stairwell that would take him down to the living quarters. From there, it was actually really easy to get to where he was going, because this basement was kind of just two big rooms with a couple small connector halls. And one of those big rooms was artificially, magically, impossibly big. What had just been something like an underground structural support or maybe part of a parking garage now repurposed into apartments. Nice apartments, in three different styles, replicated by orange totems and compressed into a space they shouldn¡¯t have fit in. Not all of them were occupied, and some were used as small community spaces instead of living quarters, but this one basement still had the capacity for maybe six hundred people. Well, six hundred humans. The number went up a bit when you considered that a lot of camracondas preferred living with larger groups. And then went down when you accounted for ratroaches who needed more personal space for safety and mental health reasons. The courtyard had a sunrise coming through the skylight overhead, amplified by a couple green orb effects, painting the healthy greenery that had been laid down into the artificial garden in beautiful light. There were already a bunch of people up and about here, setting up long tables and some simple decorations. James had vetoed whoever had tried to get a confetti cannon. He was here to meet with a few people, but a pair of younger girls spotted him first as they were leaving one of the spatially convenient doors to the internal apartment hallways, and headed his way. One of them was still too young for it to show, but it was bizarre to James to see in the older girl a close mirror to Alanna. ¡±Hey uncle James!¡± The younger girl said with the kind of devious smirk that younger kids had when they knew they were doing something transgressive and annoying. Which, of course, made it funny. ¡±Rae shut up.¡± Erin, the older sister shoved a hand down on the younger girl¡¯s head. ¡°Do you know where our sister is?¡± She asked James more directly, with almost the exact same bluntness that he had come to be familiar with from Alanna. James grinned as Rae struggled to escape the grip on her head that Erin had going on. ¡°Be nice to your sister.¡± He said softly. ¡°And I haven¡¯t seen Alanna today, but I think she¡¯s on shift right now.¡± He took a brief moment to query the Order¡¯s constantly updated roster with his skulljack. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s down¡­ up¡­ she¡¯s in another basement on standby.¡± James had given up knowing which basement was which. ¡±Oh.¡± The older sister¡¯s face twisted in the same way Alanna¡¯s did when she was trying to avoid showing anger, and suddenly, James realized that wasn¡¯t an Alanna trait. That was a defense mechanism. ¡°Is she¡­ okay?¡± Erin asked a probing question. With a tilt of his head, James tried to figure out why she was asking that. ¡°Yeah?¡± He said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡±No reason.¡± James didn¡¯t believe that at all, and in retaliation, decided to use his secret weapon against teenagers; earnest vulnerability. ¡°Is this because you¡¯re worried about her having the same kind of job as your dad did?¡± Erin¡¯s eyes sharpened into a vicious glare as her younger sister went silent. ¡±How-!¡± ¡±Come on.¡± James said softly. ¡°You think the thing with your sister is a casual fling? I¡¯ve known her half my life. I knew before I made a habit of kissing her.¡± James let a grin take over his face as he watched Rae make a childish gagging. ¡°Point is¡­ I dunno, she¡¯s good at this, and she¡¯ll be fine. She told you she was bulletproof, right?¡± James was never sure who knew what about who could do what. ¡±We need her for something!¡± Rae told him with all the pure assurance someone her age could bring to bear. ¡±Yeah, she¡¯ll be back in about an hour. So unless you flooded your kitchen and¡­¡± James measured their reactions. He didn¡¯t have Alanna¡¯s empathy power, but he was pretty sure if he¡¯d guessed right they would have done something. ¡°¡­I don¡¯t think you did, you should be okay, right?¡± ¡±Yeah. Just thought you¡¯d know if she¡¯d ditched us.¡± Erin said with annoyance. ¡±That happened once, as far as I know, and it was because of a¡­ well, it¡¯s fine.¡± James didn¡¯t want to talk about what had happened. ¡°Also, I¡¯m kinda busy! I¡¯ve gotta go bother some people who didn¡¯t do anything wrong. You kids need me for anything?¡± ¡±Don¡¯t call me a kid.¡± ¡±Bye uncle James!¡± James gave a relaxed laugh as he left the two to their own devices, which might be a mistake. He kinda wanted to correct Rae and say that, if anything, he and Alanna counted as common-law married and that would make him her brother in law. But that would feel weird, and then Rae would just call him ¡®brother James¡¯, and he wasn¡¯t nearly monkish enough to pull off that title. He wove his way through the stone planters and the rows of bamboo that made the courtyard garden feel alive and cozy without actually blocking lines of sight that much. The paths that led to the different entrance doors of the apartments were actually mostly just straight lines, for efficiency, but there were a few loops and curves in the greenery that made for small seating areas or walkable spirals if someone just wanted to stretch their legs. Or whatever limbs they walked on. It was in one of those spaces, on a bench with a pair of smoothed stone bowls on each of its curved ends for camracondas, that James found his prey. Alex, Simon, and Spire-Cast-Behind. Partly waiting for him, partly looking like they were waiting for their own executions. ¡±You guys understand this is supposed to be a fun day, right?¡± James asked them as he settled his butt on the chunky natural rock someone had brought down here to use as a centerpiece of this part of the garden. ¡°And we aren¡¯t actually going to murder you if you go off script. When she said that, Karen was being¡­ I mean I¡¯m pretty sure Karen was¡­ look I won¡¯t let her actually murder you.¡± ¡°I hate you.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said bluntly. ¡±Yeah, I regret this a lot.¡± Simon said. Alex just broke out into a high pitched giggle that ended with her pulling her fingers down her face like she was trying to yank her skin off. ¡°Why did we say yessssss.¡± She groaned. ¡±You¡¯re all kinda dumb. It¡¯s one of the requirements.¡± James told them with a beaming cheerful smile. ¡°So, I don¡¯t see Sarah, is she-¡° ¡±Here!¡± Sarah announced herself, sliding around the side of the bamboo in a three-point stance before she kicked off the ground in an actual freestanding flip, landing in the perfect position to lean back against the same rock James was. Arms folded, not even breathing heavily, the sky blue skirt she was wearing completely unruffled. ¡°Alright, are we ready to go over the ceremony outline?¡± Simon faced James, jutting a finger out at Sarah¡¯s relaxed form. ¡°Make her a paladin.¡± He ordered James. ¡°How did you even do that?!¡± ¡±I¡¯m kinda curious too.¡± James asked. ¡°Hey, remember when you had your neck broken? And look at you now. Navigating like you¡¯ve got a dodge roll and a hatred of pots.¡± ¡±First off, all the pots around here were made in the pottery class, and I would never break any of their stuff for gems, you ding dong.¡± Sarah tapped James on the nose as he held still and failed to react to the prod. ¡°Also, we have three things that heal bones, and my own Health, so I¡¯m fine. You especially don¡¯t get to fret over me, mister ¡®look how many bullets fit in my shoulders¡¯.¡± ¡±Okay, ow.¡± James said, holding a hand to his heart. ¡±Yeah, that¡¯s what people like you say when you¡¯re shot!¡± Sarah¡¯s nod was a whiplike blur. ¡±I just wanted to make sure you were safe to kick flip off of concrete! Why am I the bad guy here?!¡± James demanded lightly. ¡±It¡¯s been two years since that!¡± ¡±No shit?¡± ¡±Well, not exactly. But it¡¯s been a while.¡± ¡±Yeesh. I feel like it was a lot less.¡± Alex leaned over Simon to whisper at both her fellow paladin aspirants at once. ¡°Mom and dad are fighting.¡± She said in a dramatic stage whisper. Spire-Cast-Behind had been twitching her head back and forth between Sarah and James as they bantered, but now she settled back into her curled position. ¡°At least they are-¡° ¡±Alright, enough joking.¡± Sarah said with the glowing smile she was so well known for. ¡°I¡¯m just here to make sure we go over cues, and the general outline.¡± ¡±Curse.¡± Spire said, covering the word with a hiss. Their reprieve had been short lived. Sarah pretended she hadn¡¯t heard that, while James just covered an abrupt yawn with the back of his hand. ¡°Now! You three poor innocent souls have two points that are your main roles, and that all works around James here.¡± Sarah suddenly had a clipboard in her hand, despite everything being available through their skulljacks. She liked the immediacy of paper. ¡°Let¡¯s do a quick run of the timeline.¡± She pointed at James with a pencil that might or might not be a deadly weapon. ¡±Right. So, we open with just me, I introduce the conceit just in case anyone forgot why they¡¯re there¡­¡± ¡±Ooh, I like how that sounds.¡± Alex said. Sarah shushed her. ¡°It¡¯s your celebration, you dummy!¡± ¡±¡­then I¡¯ll introduce these three one by one.¡± James motioned to the paladins. ¡±Do we need to give speeches?¡± Simon asked. Like an unrelenting royal executioner, Sarah nodded. ¡°It¡¯s important! Are you all ready for that?¡± Every one of them said ¡®no¡¯ in unison, including James. ¡°Excellent!¡± Sarah said. ¡°Now, after that, there¡¯s more James talking. And then a cue, Jaaaaames?¡± ¡±Yeah, so, it¡¯s hard to miss. I¡¯ll say something about our shared future, and throw to you three, and you¡¯ll be presented with the world¡¯s most dramatic USB drive. Then you¡¯ll take your oaths, which you absolutely must have ready,¡± he met their eyes, the joking mood pushed aside for a second, ¡°like, actually. This is something that might feel silly, but it¡¯s not. This is an important part of it. So if you need help, speak up now.¡± ¡±No, I know what mine is.¡± Simon said, squaring up his shoulders and giving a confident nod. Spire-Cast-Behind turned her head. ¡°TQ helped me write mine.¡± ¡±I¡¯m pretty sure mine is gonna be the worst, but I¡¯m good to go.¡± Alex confirmed with a shaky thumbs up. ¡°But¡­ I know it¡¯s way too late to complain now, but you guys are way too into this, right? Like, is this actually necessary?¡± James turned to look at Sarah, and inclined his chin when he saw she was waiting to see which of them wanted to answer. ¡°Go for it.¡± He told her. Swishing her skirt as she leaned forward and stepped away from the rock, Sarah started talking with wide sweeps of her arms. ¡°It¡¯s not necessary, but neither is food beyond a protein bar!¡± She told Alex before spinning on her toes and facing the soon to be paladin. ¡°This is a show. For everyone else, so they have a memory to mark the important moment, and for you, so you know that things have changed. We¡¯re using ceremony and extravagance to create a cognitive rubicon, because it¡¯s important. Because it lets us tell everyone including you - especially you - that things are different now.¡± Sarah took a deep breath. ¡°And it reminds us of something we need to be reminded of.¡± ¡±What?¡± Simon asked. ¡°That we have a lot of free time?¡± James snorted. ¡°No.¡± He said, folding his arms and pulling in on himself a little bit. ¡°That it¡¯s okay to hope. That they can be less afraid. Because you¡¯re there for them.¡± He let Sarah tag him in a high five as they switched who was explaining. ¡°You three are nervous, I get that. I am too. But this is important because it¡¯s more than just changing a line on the roster for my obscure title. This is showing off. It¡¯s telling you that you¡¯re ready, and everyone else that we believe in you. Got it?¡± He didn¡¯t tell them the other, secret reason. But that might not even come up, and it certainly wouldn¡¯t make them feel any more comfortable. ¡°I don¡¯t think I got it.¡± Alex admitted. ¡°But I¡¯m kinda dumb.¡± ¡±Touche.¡± Sarah made some kind of squeaking noise at them as she fluttered her hands and tried to get them to stop bantering. ¡°No, no time for this! I have to get back to helping Melody with the sound setup! Now go through the outline!¡± ¡±¡­Our sound tech is named Melody?¡± Simon couldn¡¯t help it, he had to ask. Then he got a wide eyed begging look from Sarah and his resolve crumbled. ¡°Right, sorry. James talks, introduces us, we talk¡­ uh¡­ what order do we go in?¡± ¡±I wish to be second.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said. ¡°It would be strange for me to be first, but I do not wish to give the impression that I am last due to being the outsider species.¡± ¡±I¡¯m cool with going last.¡± Alex said magnanimously, tipping backward on the stone bench and sticking her head into the bamboo behind her. ¡°And not just because I don¡¯t want to give a speech.¡± Sarah made a note and then updated the outline on their skulljacks, her integration with the technology that she had been so terrified of previously shown off with casual grace. ¡°So we¡¯ll go Simon, Spire, Alex. And then?¡± ¡±Then it¡¯s back to me.¡± James said. ¡°I talk, direct them to make a choice and take an oath, they do that¡­ same order?¡± ¡±Same order.¡± Sarah confirmed. He nodded, shifting on the convenient sitting rock. ¡°And then back to me, I make a dramatic gesture, and make a formal announcement. Then people clap a little, and-¡° ¡±Camracondas do not tend to clap.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind reminded him. ¡±¡­I don¡¯t¡­ Spire it¡¯s not even 9 AM, please.¡± James begged. ¡°I would love to sort out camraconda species-centric cultural indications of adulation later, but Sarah¡¯s gonna explode if we keep her too long.¡± The serpent, quietly hiding her own nerves, just nodded at him. ¡°Anyway, a little audience participation, and then I step back and you three are set loose into the crowd to talk to people and be seen. And that you have a say in. We¡¯ll basically be having a day-long event, but you don¡¯t need to be around for all of it if you don¡¯t think you can handle it.¡± ¡±I can, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Simon said, the one extrovert in the group showing off without even trying. ¡°I can¡¯t, cause I¡¯ll fucking die.¡± Alex stated. Spire-Cast-Behind twisted to look up at her. ¡°I know this is not true, because I have done tests, but I agree. I will tolerate twenty minutes of festivities exactly, and then I will hide.¡± ¡±You¡¯re allowed to leave and come back!¡± Sarah said. ¡°We¡¯ll have isolated spaces set up for some of the ratroaches who wanted to participate but need an escape route, and you¡¯re welcome to use those too. It¡¯s okay to take quiet time. And this whole space is going to be part of the celebration, so you¡¯ll be near your apartments if you need a break.¡± She gestured to the multi story front of balconies set into the back wall in a visual folding that was surprisingly easy to get used to. That knowledge relaxed the trio, even Simon. Being able to be around in stages was a lot more manageable than being asked to spend a full eight hour shift in the thick of a crowd. Even the kind of chill crowd the Order would probably end up being. James pushed off the rock, dusting off the feeling from his hands as he took a deep breath. ¡°Hey.¡± He said with the kind of voice you used when you only half believed yourself. ¡°This¡¯ll be fun. And then we can get back to what we were already doing. What you were already doing. Helping around the Order. Among other places.¡± ¡±And now, I¡¯m awayyyy!¡± Sarah said, spinning again as she shifted her feet to start backpedaling. ¡°I¡¯ve got minions to manage! You¡¯ll all do great, though! I believe in you!¡± She cheered them all on before nearly backing into someone walking past and stumbling away, laughing and making conversation with the man she¡¯d nearly run into as she wrapped around the row of bamboo, still in sight through the incomplete wall of green. Slithering out of the stone resting bowl, Spire-Cast-Behind gave a long hiss as she touched down on the ground. ¡°I am going to my nursing duties before we begin.¡± She said. ¡°I will see you tonight.¡± ¡±You¡¯¡¯re working? Today.¡± Alex stated, staring at her fellow paladin. ¡±It is not as if the work goes away for convenience.¡± Spire retorted. ¡°You could also accomplish something.¡± Alex sighed and stood, making to follow the camraconda. ¡°Yeah, fuck it. I¡¯m gonna go help out in the kitchen. See if I can get my home ec lesson up to the next tier and pick something other than Timing this time.¡± ¡±What were the other options?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind asked casually as the two headed out in the same direction. ¡±Enthusiasm and Materialism.¡± ¡±Interesting. Perhaps do not pick those.¡± ¡±Yeah I was sorta leaning that way.¡± Alex threw her arms back behind her head as she and Spire left. James shook his head as he watched them take off through the garden courtyard. ¡°Welp. I¡¯ll see you tonight. Make sure you¡¯re at least a half hour early, right?¡± He told Simon. ¡±Yeah, hey, one thing.¡± Simon said before James could leave. ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± ¡±Of course.¡± James stalled his departure, swiveling to land his foot back where he¡¯d started. ¡°What¡¯s up? Actually having second thoughts?¡± Simon snorted. ¡°No, not really. It¡¯s about the Sewer thing. The little¡­ I mean, it¡¯s a symbiotic¡­ thing.¡± He pulled back the long sleeve of his shirt, revealing a dry organic eye sunken into his skin. It would have been hard to tell it was a different creature entirely, if you didn¡¯t know that humans weren¡¯t supposed to have red unblinking eyes in their arms. ¡±Wow, that¡¯s a little unsettling.¡± James said without thinking. ¡°Is it¡­ stabbing you?¡± ¡±Kinda. It doesn¡¯t really hurt if I don¡¯t think about it, and Deb gave me an anti-infection plan to follow. Took me a little while to work up to trying.¡± James wasn¡¯t sure if it was rude to ask, but he did kind of need to know. ¡°Are you an idiot?¡± He said. ¡°No, wait, sorry, that¡¯s¡­¡± Simon laughed. ¡°I mean, I did this.¡± He rolled his shirt sleeve back down, covering his new addition. ¡°Look, we need to know one way or another, right? And I¡¯ve got that purple for regenerating missing flesh. So worst case, I get anest¡­ annast¡­ knocked out, and have it cut out.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But I think it¡¯s fine so far. Like, it¡¯s not eating me, except a little blood. It¡¯s definitely not ¡®a person¡¯ though. Not yet.¡± ¡±Think it might be?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t know how. It doesn¡¯t have a brain, it¡¯s literally just the eye, a couple glands, and the barbs.¡± Simon shrugged. ¡°But Rufus is a stapler and he¡¯s getting a degree in education so what do I know? Anyway, point is, it does do something.¡± He set his mouth in a line, and took a breath while James waited patiently for him to explain. ¡°It makes me stronger the angrier I get.¡± He said. ¡°Not in every way. But it definitely lets me hit harder. Bite harder, too; I took a chunk out of my cheek on accident. Deb says it¡¯s partly chemical but she doesn¡¯t know what it is.¡± James frowned in thought. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ hm.¡± He didn¡¯t know what to say, and worried he was about to start rambling. ¡°I dunno what help I can be here. If you want it removed¡­ well, you¡¯re right. We can do that. And we should probably do it early. If it¡¯s a Sewer reward¡­ we know they can grow over time; it already does that with the lessons, right?¡± ¡±I had that thought.¡± Simon said. ¡°I don¡¯t think it makes me angrier though. It just feeds off it. And it could be useful.¡± ¡±So what did you want to ask me? If I had a clean yes no for you?¡± ¡±Pretty much.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Simon, you¡¯re the least angry person in the Order.¡± He said. ¡°If there¡¯s some kind of hidden trap in there, you¡¯re the least likely to trigger it. You are perpetually chill.¡± ¡±Me? Not¡­ oh, hell, Harvey or Karen or something?¡± ¡±Have you talked to Harvey?¡± James barked a laugh. ¡°We¡¯ll need to figure out policy on those things later. I¡¯ll bug you about it on a less busy day. For now, I mean¡­ it¡¯s your body, share it how you want. But keep an eye on¡­¡± He trailed off as Simon gave him a flat look. ¡°¡­okay yeah, I just got it, sorry. Pay attention to your emotions. Tell your social group too. If anyone notices, knife time.¡± ¡±I¡¯m good with that.¡± Simon said. ¡±Good. Now. I¡¯m gonna go make sure the totem team doesn¡¯t blow up our secret headquarters, and then¡­ oh, a lot of stuff you don¡¯t need to know about. You good?¡± Simon nodded, resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°I¡¯m good. I¡¯m gonna go stare at a spellbook for six hours and hope it makes me stop freaking out.¡± ¡±Good call.¡± James nodded. ¡°It won¡¯t work, but it¡¯s good to try things. I¡¯ll see you tonight.¡± He headed to handle a million tiny pieces of setup, and hoped he wasn¡¯t lying when he said that things were going to go great. _____ ¡°Check one!¡± A young man¡¯s voice rang out through the warehouse space from overhead. James was on the ground, which put him in the minority among the people working to get things ready. He¡¯d been one of many hands making sure the whole place was clear of furniture; a hundred desks and tables and whiteboards and filing cabinets and computers moved into storage or out to the back parking lot for the night. He worked with a quiet smile, and while everyone around him thought he was just in a good mood over the upcoming gathering, in reality he was just having a constant sense of amusement that most of these desks had been stolen from Officium Mundi. But now, the whole place was empty. Not exactly a box; there were still sealed cords running down the walls, ventilation ducts and insulation overhead, the skeleton of a structure peeking out of the ceiling. But it was a lot emptier, and it echoed when people took steps. And up in that ceiling, a group of engineers were putting orange orb totems into place. James was resting on the floor, drinking a can of something caffeinated that Daniel had handed him and wishing that it were less¡­ whatever flavor it was. Something else. ¡±I don¡¯t hate it!¡± Zhu said as he listened in on James¡¯ thoughts. Or maybe just read his expression as James glowered at the can in his hand before continuing to sip from it. ¡°It¡¯s interesting. Enjoy novelty a little more. You¡¯re supposed to be the one that likes weird things.¡± ¡±I like weird things that I can flirt with.¡± James grumbled good naturedly. ¡°Is that why we¡¯re friends? Has it been one long seduction?¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers rippled along James¡¯ arm and shoulder, his eye twisting around so that its point looked up at James¡¯ chin. ¡°I don¡¯t think I want to be your boyfriend. I know we joke, but it doesn¡¯t feel right to me. Maybe I¡¯ll change, but I don¡¯t want you to wait on it.¡± James tugged one of his legs into place as he sat on the concrete. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m okay with that.¡± Zhu flicked a long talon across James¡¯ shoe. ¡±I know, I¡¯m inside your head.¡± He said. ¡°But I still worry.¡± ¡±I get ya. But nah, it¡¯s fine, I didn¡¯t even really think we were flirting at all anyway. Alanna I think just has fun shipping me. It¡¯s cute, but I¡¯ll tell her to back off on this later.¡± James sighed. ¡°You doing okay?¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡±I¡¯m not broken, please stop asking.¡± ¡±I¡¯m asking because I felt literally the same way for less time than you and I was prepared to lay down and die by the end of it.¡± James said softly. ¡°And even if we¡¯re not kissing, I still love you and want you to be okay.¡± ¡±Then stop asking.¡± Zhu said, voice like tires on gravel. ¡°Are we in the way?¡± He asked suddenly as Chevoy and Texture-Of-Barkdust passed around them, the two raising up a cord they were hauling so as not to get it caught on the living obstacle in the middle of the floor. ¡°I feel in the way.¡± The navigator changed it from a question to a statement as the cord almost whacked into the part of James he was manifested on. From just behind him, Chevoy yelled out to someone standing on a tall ladder and hidden among the ceiling. ¡°Check one! Looks good!¡± ¡±Same!¡± Came another shout from the other side of the warehouse. ¡±Position is correct.¡± Davis said from near the rolling shutters in the back that were currently open to let warm afternoon sunlight splash in. He didn¡¯t shout as loud as the others, just sort of made a statement and let Planner pass it on as he stood with a series of laser guided survey tools planted on a tripod, watching the overhead activity like an aged hawk. ¡°Start on the next one.¡± James scooted back a bit, but didn¡¯t move to get up. ¡°I think we¡¯re fine.¡° He said, an instant before Chevoy hit him in the head with the cable on accident. One apology later, James decided to get back up and get back to work. Or rather, to get back to the important task of waiting for there to be more work. As ¡°check two¡± started getting thrown around, he walked the edge of the warehouse, watching the engineers work as they used copied dungeontech items to fix totems in place hanging in the air overhead. Taking a short break before he helped set up the stage and seating once the space was expanded. ¡±We really need a dedicated space for this.¡± James sighed. ¡±We could hunt one down?¡± Zhu offered. ¡°It could be a thing. The thrill of the chase, the stalking of prey. And eventually, the strike, and acquisition of a new structure.¡± James pressed his eyes closed and then held his arm up to try to meet Zhu and his satisfied air in the eye. ¡°Is this a house hunting pun?¡± He asked. ¡±Yes. Was it too subtle? Or not enough?¡± James dropped his arm again. ¡±No no, I love it. But we¡¯ll need some kind of heavy ordinance if we want to take down a whole theater.¡± ¡±It¡¯s catch and release, we use tranquilizers.¡± Zhu informed him. ¡°For¡­ structures. Tranquilizers like¡­ like¡­ this is harder to keep up than I expected. What would you stun a building with? Help me with the joke.¡± ¡±Concrete? Zoning laws?¡± Zhu shook himself, feathers a unique kind of irritant against James¡¯ sweaty skin. ¡±Mmh. We are both bad at this pun. Let¡¯s move on.¡± They kept out of the way as they watched work progress. The team in charge of enlarging the space for later tonight was being meticulous, and not just because Reed was standing nearby and loudly reminding everyone that the last time they¡¯d fucked up a totem they¡¯d sent him to the hospital. Though that probably helped. Every position was checked multiple times. Every totem was secured in place and locked down with at least two different effects that had been tested beforehand to make sure they weren¡¯t going to explode on activation. And everyone was evacuated behind the safety line when they finally announced that it was time to turn the things on. ¡°This part is so cool.¡± Zhu said. ¡°You can¡¯t see it all the way, but there¡¯s an artificial horizon around the totem when they put the orbs in. Watch.¡± ¡±You just said that I-¡° ¡±No I mean face that way so I can watch.¡± Zhu corrected. James laughed and rolled his eyes, but did so anyway as Nik slid the first orange orb into place and the room changed. The warehouse was larger now. The floor stretched for an extra few hundred feet. If anyone had looked closely, they could have seen the poured concrete repeating the exact same whorls and lines, over and over. An expanded space was kind of easy for the Order to pull off now. This was simple. This was just a rectangular room that had a larger floor profile. What came next was the impressive part. A second orb was placed into a totem, and the lines of sight shifted around them. The big empty echoing room no longer felt like a rectangle, but a wide arc with a central focus point. It wasn¡¯t clear now, but later on, when the place was full of decorations and chairs and people in those chairs, it would be more obvious that the focus point was easier to see from no matter where you were. A third totem activated, and aisles of easily accessible walking paths opened up radiating through the room. Getting in or out of a seat would require only a couple of steps. Or slithers. Or wheelchair¡­ rotations? Rolls? James should look up the term. The point was that Research had actually taken the time to make their professional spatial distortion wheelchair accessible, and that had been the part that took the most time in this action. Reed has complained that making the totems not react badly to wheels had nearly killed him all over again, but James was pretty sure that was a lie. Okay James hoped that was a lie. A fourth totem, and the room shifted again. Something had changed, and it wasn¡¯t immediately clear what, aside from everything brightening slightly. This one was for ventilation; making sure that packing hundreds of people into a room didn¡¯t end up being a stifling nightmare of an experience. And that was it. People climbed down off of ladders, and began moving through the twisted spaces. Everyone who¡¯d stayed on the edges did too, using long wooden poles to sweep the whole of the expanded meeting space, testing for any wrinkles or twists in space that would be problems. Because a single bad interaction or uncontained edge could be a lethal danger. James and Zhu helped, but after going over the whole room for the fifth time, the safety check was deemed complete, and the place ready for use. ¡±Now.¡± James said, rubbing his hands together as he thought about all the things that still needed to be dragged in here. ¡°For the fun part.¡± That was a lie. The fun part would come later. This was just simple labor, and a little banter with Zhu. And yet, it felt important. He was relaxed by it. Put at ease, at least for a little while, until it really sunk in later just what he was building a stage for. All too soon, the fun part was done. ____ It had all come together so fast. James was standing backstage, still reeling at how quickly the process of raising a scaffolding and affixing a dula curtain had created a backstage. He and Zhu had spent hours unpacking and assembling, working with others to bring together pieces of the structure. Working with Sarah and her assistants to set up the sound system. Working with the volunteers who were serving as ushers and aides to make sure they were all on the same page about the proceedings. Working with everyone to just make the whole night seem seamless and smooth to everyone who would be attending. And now here he was. Shifting back and forth as he peeked out of the curtain and saw more and more people filtering into the room, taking chairs and benches and beanbags as they chatted and filled the room with the sound of a growing crowd. There were¡­ more people than James had really processed. When they¡¯d started calling themselves the Order of Endless Rooms, it had been¡­ almost a joke. James was just trying to come up with something that could sound kinda neat, as a way to let a bunch of survivors feel a sense of safety that they needed. But they hadn¡¯t stopped. They¡¯d actually listened to him, and grown along with him, and there¡¯d been a lot of hiring and recruiting and rescuing in the meantime. And now¡­ now James was looking at a room where people were filling up the seats a little more completely than he¡¯d expected. He tried to stay still as Melody, Sarah¡¯s newest assistant and also someone he didn¡¯t really know, affixed a microphone to his suit jacket. James had gone for a half-professional look today; a sharp cut black jacket over a much less formal pride teeshirt. It was a little bit like the atmosphere in general, actually. The metal and concrete of the walls were softened by ribbons and banners of simple colored cloth, mixed with an anarchistic seating layout where benches and padded chairs and beanbags deep enough to be camraconda nests all came together. He also tried to stop looking at the crowd, but he couldn¡¯t pull his eyes away from the small gap in the curtain. It was everyone. Close friends and people James hadn¡¯t seen for a while. People he¡¯d helped, and some he¡¯d hurt. New hires and the original members alike. A couple of Anesh were helping to seat people along with help from Marcey. Cathy, Karen, Texture-Of-Barkdust, and Smoke were also assisting, guiding people who needed more help to their seats. It wasn¡¯t just them either; a couple dozen volunteers from Recovery, or just around the Order, helped keep things organized and moving along. In the back, he saw JP slip onto a bench next to Bea, the inhabitor not even giving his friend the slightest indication that she cared about his presence. Up front, Daniel called out Pathfinder, the two of them apologizing to the startled human man they were sitting next to for the abrupt orange beacon. Another Anesh crossed the back of the room at a hurried pace, moving to check a speaker hookup as he helped out. The crowd was made of familiar faces. Mars and Chevoy were busy arguing about the ethics of building a space elevator with some of the new hires, though it might be more accurate to say they were arguing with each other and some bystanders had been caught up in it. Deb and Frequency-Of-Sunlight grabbed a beanbag on the right side, the two sharing a quick interspecies kiss that drew confused glances from the new people and familiar smiles from the veterans. At the very front, Ava sat with her mom, Jeanne still keeping a very close eye on her daughter. Daughters, really; the tiny form of Hidden flickering in the back of Ava¡¯s hoodie, just as grounded as her big sister. There were a few absences. The shellaxies weren¡¯t there, which was sad, but they were just not especially intelligent or patient creatures, and a ceremony like this just wasn¡¯t something they¡¯d either enjoy, or sit still for. But a lot more of the ratroaches were than James had expected to want to come. There were areas on the wings of the seating space that had been isolated and given rings of no-man''s-land around them. Safe spots, where the more skittish ratroaches - and camracondas and humans too, who needed it - could sit without feeling crowded or trapped. James saw Ishah and Eeke and a couple others helping their people, reassuring the newer ones that they could leave whenever they needed to, that no one here was mad at them. Some of the ratroaches had been here long enough to have gone through shaper substance surgery, and those ones were less nervous, though many still chose to sit with and comfort their friends. Friends that included Banana, of all people, given leave by Deb to spend the day out on the condition she not exert herself and ask to leave if she needed. Nate was also absent. James wasn¡¯t sure where the man was, but Nate had just said he probably wouldn¡¯t make it, and to have fun without him. He¡¯d be back to cook later though. And his absence didn¡¯t stop most of the rogues from showing up. Ben was there, spreading a wave of confusion as he explained to people that he wasn¡¯t their friend. Myles and Yin had shown up from Townton, along with another dozen humans James hadn¡¯t met. Knife-In-Fangs, whose status as a rogue was questionable, was also hanging out with their group, and seemed to be having a great time. He was bantering with Ann, who also wasn¡¯t really a rogue, but was a knight when she wasn¡¯t working in the kitchens. Also from Townton, the remaining ex-Horizonists. They didn¡¯t all sit together, but James saw all four of them through the audience. All of them with the orange feather glow of living navigators spread around their shoulders and arms. Kirk himself was feeding his navigator friend peanuts as the two watched the stage in anticipation. The two surviving Alchemists were also in attendance, sitting next to each other for reasons that James could only assume were masochistic, both of them looking like they were one spark away from murdering each other, but determined to be civil adults regardless. Nile had his arms crossed like he was throwing a tantrum, while Red just refused to make eye contact. Keeka and Arrush had taken a seat in the midst of the crowd, Keeka pushing and pulling his larger boyfriend to sit him down on a bench next to the familiar faces of Morgan, Liz, and Color-Of-Dawn. The youngest actual members of the Order looking up at the two from their shared beanbag with a complete lack of concern about the nature of the people sitting next to them. Elizebeth and Keeka were soon talking about something excitedly as the crowd shifted and settled around them. People he remembered saving. A few of the men from that coal plant who¡¯d stuck around and a handful of the Status Quo survivors. Ruby and Prince, pretending to be humans but having picked the same humans they¡¯d originally used just to avoid confusion, sat with the young teenagers they¡¯d sworn to protect, looking on guard while their charges just looked like they were about to explode with excitement at the collective mass of weird stuff going on. Some of that weird stuff was close to the stage. Rufus, Ganesh, and Fredrick Umbra Armillary were all dressed up and acting as escorts for Magneto; the big magnetic distortion shaped like a dog who Simon had insisted not miss his moment on stage. As for what a strider and drone looked like while dressed up, they both had knitted little coverings for their frames. While Fredrick had decorated his smock in a riot of bright neon colors, wearing it proudly even if he was using it to hide his extra legs. James was also pretty sure the stuff animal had a bow tie on, but he might just be seeing things. They weren¡¯t the only created life either. A couple of the paper drakes were in the very back with their handlers, though they likely weren¡¯t old enough to have really started to develop intelligence. Similarly, the flickers of green from the authorities that were bonded to the various members of Response and the medical department subtly showed off who had been gifted with those infomorphs. Authorities being about as smart as a particularly clever roomba, James didn¡¯t really count them as part of the ¡®crowd¡¯, but their bearers certainly were here too. Also showing off a splash of green, a couple of healthy growing potted plants, one from the Office, one born right here, sat by the main doors and happily harassed incoming guests. Not to mention people who were¡­ not outsiders, but not familiar faces around the Order. Hilbert and Justine, people James had put in charge of distributing cures for cancer as fairly as possible and then cut loose with a budget and a mandate, were attending and treating this as a formal gala along with the rest of their expanded staff. James smiled lightly as he saw a middle aged Asian man standing at Hilbert¡¯s side and staring at everything with wide eyes as their group was guided to free seats by Scent-Of-Rain. They weren¡¯t the only ones either; a good portion of the people James had asked to be the ethics oversight committee for Response were here too, looking equally out of place. Except for one woman who was eagerly and loudly trying to figure out how to get a job here, and also possibly trying to flirt with every ratroach who met her eyes. Most of the inhabitors sat in their own pod, staring silently forward, their faces the usual blank masks. But every now and then, one of them would turn and watch something else, or they would speak to each other in low voices, or they¡¯d show flickers of interest in the people around them. It was harder to tell with Rho, him being a dog, but it did seem like they were slowly becoming comfortable with more expression, even if it was never required of them. Camille sat among them, blending in as she laser focused on the stage, out of armor but still unblinking. One of the inhabitors even shared a polite conversation with Bill as the man walked by with his kids in tow. Bill had been busy for a while, since he¡¯d become the main liaison between the Order and the local electric company, but he and his buddy Mark still had a lot of projects going on, and the inhabitors seemed to like working for them. Something about how blunt both different forms of contractor were. Bill¡¯s kids - though at least one of them was in her twenties - didn¡¯t want to hear a single fucking thing about material storage or ventilation hookups for new apartments. They wanted to know what the fuck their dad had been doing for the last year if he worked here, and James got the impression from the snippets he could overhear that Bill had just told them he worked with aliens or something and they hadn¡¯t believed him. There were people James only knew in his role as a professional paladin. Alice, Charlie, and¡­ he was pretty sure the camraconda they¡¯d adopted was named Dance, but that might be an abbreviation. One of the teams that scouted for new dungeons, sat in a group with Vad and Thermoclese, all of them talking dungeon theory with the exception of Dance who wanted to talk about video games. James empathized with her; he would like to talk to someone about video games right about now. It would be soothing. There were people James only knew because it was really personal. Like Alanna¡¯s sisters, Erin and Rae sitting like they weren¡¯t sure if they were even allowed to be here, or like maybe they weren¡¯t quite convinced Alanna hadn¡¯t just spent a few billion dollars on the most elaborate practical joke ever conceived. Davis and John from Research hung out with Marcus and Harvey from Response, the men waiting at the back while Planner hung over them and kept an eye on everything. Actually, Planner might be the older escort for Vera, a new assignment infomorph that was growing out of the sartorial restrictions dumped on JP a couple weeks ago. James wasn¡¯t sure who Vera lived in, but it was impressive how quickly assignments could grow into people when given a bit of support and a diet of purple orbs. There were a couple other infomorphs around, actually, and when he looked for the too-large-to-be-that-small manifested forms, it didn¡¯t take him long to spot Mercy, or Moon, or Speaker, or a handful of others. And so many other people. Too many to list the names of, too many for James to know. A hundred members of Response, another fifty from Recovery. Delvers and engineers, dreamers and makers, survivors and saviors. There were thirty faces James had just helped to hire this last week, and he didn¡¯t recognize half of them. A batch of interns - James refused to call them squires - that he never really spent time with, both survivors of the Akashic Sewer and just normal high schoolers who wanted to be here, or at least wanted to try it out. There were camracondas he¡¯d never met, ratroaches sitting alongside humans who seemed entirely at ease with them, even human children who were from families that had been given safe shelter here, and were now growing up in the Lair. Someone had even brought the vending machine. Just in case. There was a lingering feeling, too, that James couldn¡¯t shake. That there were other people who should have been here. That the names written in their graveyard were missing, and that some of them at least would have loved to have seen what the Order had made of itself. ¡°I am.¡± James said slowly. ¡°Utterly fucking terrified.¡± ¡±Uh¡­¡± Melody looked up from the settings on his mic pack. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡±Please tell me the mic isn¡¯t on.¡± James said, staring at the curtain with a stone faced expression. She shook her head at him but didn¡¯t seem like she had any words of advice to offer. Sarah came to her rescue, Alanna and Anesh trailing behind her. ¡°You ready?¡± She asked. ¡°Because if I were you, I¡¯d be terrified!¡± ¡±Thaaaaaaanks.¡± James drew the word out with no small measure of sarcasm. Anesh winced. ¡°I¡¯m sure¡­ it¡¯ll be fine.¡± He said. He was periodically checking in with his duplicates, and this iteration of him kind of wished he was one of the ones with something to do to distract himself. Alanna, though, met James eyes. She stepped up to him, like nothing else in the world existed, and cupped his cheek in one of her scarred hands. ¡°You¡¯re going to do great.¡± She told him flatly. ¡±Oh yeah?¡± James asked, smiling into the warmth of her touch. ¡±Yeah.¡± She said. James¡¯ smile turned brittle. ¡°Can I tell you something?¡± She nodded once, smoothly. ¡°I feel like this is maybe sorta dumb. Like¡­ I dunno, like it¡¯s too made up.¡± Alanna barked out a single note of laughter. ¡°Then you know what you do?¡± She pointed at the back of the curtains, toward the crowd on the other side that even now was building to a louder constant hum of small conversations. ¡°You make them buy it. You tell them what you believe, and you let them believe it too. You give them a moment they won¡¯t forget, and you tell them that moment belongs to those three back there,¡± she jerked a thumb at Simon, Alex, and Spire-Cast-Behind, all being fussed over by Sarah and Melody, ¡°and you set them loose on the world. And the whole Order will race to back them to the hilt.¡± ¡±Do you know what that phrase means?¡± Anesh asked suddenly. ¡°I feel like it sounds like a sex thing.¡± The whiplash between the two of them caught James so off guard that he laughed, before sagging down into his chair with a welcome release of tension. ¡°Thanks.¡± He said to both of them. ¡°Seriously, thanks. For everything. For getting us this far. Seems like a good time to tell you that I love you.¡± ¡±It¡¯s always a good time.¡± Anesh reassured him, leaning over to kiss James on the forehead. ¡°Also all traditions are made up. Now, go be yourself. We¡¯re going to go grab seats.¡± He pulled back, letting Alanna steal her own kiss. Before the two of them vacated the backstage and left James with only a few helpers, and also the fools he¡¯d roped into this, Alanna snapped her fingers like she¡¯d just remembered something. ¡°Want me to hang onto Zhu for this one? Just so he can watch.¡± James smiled and nodded. The navigator had been napping for the last couple hours, but with a twist of perspective and willpower, James coaxed him out into an orange feathery manifestation. Zhu muttered something in a sleepy haze, which James still wasn¡¯t sure on the veracity of, before flowing through the connection between James and Alanna¡¯s hands to mantle upon her shoulders. ¡°Oh good. Showtime.¡± Zhu shivered on Alanna¡¯s skin as he opened his eye to face James. ¡°I almost never get to watch you do this. Don¡¯t mess it up!¡± ¡±So reassuring.¡± Alanna shook her head as she and Anesh vacated the backstage, getting out of the way and hoping to find any remaining free seats. Alanna also took the opportunity to steal another kiss from Sarah on the way out, the smaller woman squeaking in aggregation as her girlfriend interrupted her fifteenth read through of stage directions. ¡°Relax! You¡¯ll all do fine!¡± Alanna yelled as Anesh prodded her out of the way. James took a deep breath and found that, even with the spatially warped ventilation tunnels that he¡¯d helped set up, the air still felt solid in his lungs. And then, behind him, he heard confiding whispers between the three people he¡¯d picked out. Enhanced hearing giving him the inside scoop with his eavesdropping. Alex told the others that she didn¡¯t know if she could do this. Simon admitted that he still didn¡¯t think he was the right person. Spire-Cast-Behind felt like she was carrying her species¡¯ future and didn¡¯t deserve it. They were all afraid, but their fears weren¡¯t selfish. They were afraid they weren¡¯t ready, afraid of failing. James straightened up and shifted the shoulders of his jacket into place, and looked to Sarah, who met his eyes and gave him a quick count to when they were going to start dimming the lights. He breathed easier, because he had settled on a single goal. Alanna might want him to sell the crowd on the idea, and he may have had another plot of his own in the works, but James was aiming smaller for the moment. There were three people who he wanted to turn into full time heroes, and he was going to sell them on it. People had stopped filtering in, and everyone was more or less settled now. And after a check with their volunteer ushers, Sarah made a motion to catch his eye, and spoke quickly to one of the stagehands. Counting down on her fingers until she hit zero, the simple but effective lighting setup rigged up a safe distance underneath the spatial totems began to dim. The lights went down, and took the noise with them. Conversations hushed, as the universal symbol that the show was starting kicked off. There was still a pleasant natural light flowing in from behind the stage, but even the nonhumans who had never been to a stage play kind of knew what it meant when the overhead lights dimmed. Sarah met James¡¯ eyes again, and smiled at him, shooting him a thumbs up before counting down from three, then pointing him out. She looked so professional with her clipboard as he walked by. As he took those steps, she pulled out one of the Library figurines, and activated it, the magic crumbling the thing to dust as it shifted reality around them. He strode through the curtains, out onto the open flat stage. There was no podium or anything fancy; they¡¯d decided against the enchanted stage terrain or the fiber optic cabling to go with the laser pointer that broadcast emotions. If this went well, maybe they could do some showmanship later. For now, it was just a raised platform with a few marks on the floor where people needed to stand, James included. Head held up, he fixed a peaceful smile on his mouth as he walked out toward the audience. Unlike most people, James actually liked public speaking; what he didn¡¯t like was being unsure if he was wasting people¡¯s time. And now, with hundreds of eyes on him, he had to fight the gnawing sense that this was all a bit silly. Because he could see that they didn¡¯t think it was silly. And that almost scared him more. There was no more time for sighing or deep breaths; his mic was hot now and James didn¡¯t get to stall anymore. ¡±Good evening.¡± He opened with. ¡°Welcome to something important.¡± James said. And he was off. He could feel the truth and the performance and the workshopped words and the audience attention all blending together, and was forced to face the truth that he hadn¡¯t lied, and this was important, and special, and happening now. ¡°Tonight we are here to celebrate the start of what I hope and plan to be a long tradition of service. Service to each other, service to the people of this world, service to ourselves.¡± He shifted, any hint of a slouch or slump gone as he stood at a relaxed stance and swept his eyes across the audience, smiling at all of them. Even the ones he didn¡¯t much like. ¡°The role of paladin within the Order of Endless Rooms is a new one, but the premise is simple. There should be people who have the task of communication, connection, and compassion. People who are empowered and supported, in the role of the hero. People who we trust not to make decisions for us, or to rule us, but to empower and protect those around them.¡± Behind him, James could feel through his enhanced senses as the three initiates were sent out, taking their places. He began moving with slight steps, pacing back and forth, making sure none of them were blocked by his form all the time. ¡±Some of you know these three. And that is because, without even understanding what we were codifying, they were already being the very thing we wanted to create.¡± James saw some of the audience nodding and smiling along. Up front, Simon¡¯s magnetic mongausse gave a small shivering bark as he saw his companion on stage, the sound drawing laughs of agreement. ¡°Exactly, thank you Magneto.¡± James said, the casual relief from the dramatic tension getting more of a laugh. ¡°Simon Poe, Spire-Cast-Behind, and Alex Wolly. People who have been spending their time and effort, often risking their lives, to build a better future. More than that, they have been people who could be relied on. How many of you, out there, already know who they are, because behind the scenes they¡¯ve been active helping with an uncountable number of things?¡± James wasn¡¯t exactly expecting it, but the number of hands or necks that were slowly raised surprised even him. ¡±They¡¯ve seen it as their duty already, for some time now.¡± James said with an acknowledging nod to the audience. ¡°And it¡¯s time we let them know that it¡¯s noticed. It¡¯s also time for them to address you themselves.¡± He took a few steps back. Simon stepped forward, looking like he was going to combust under the ring of white stage lights. ¡°It¡¯s probably not a surprise that I didn¡¯t have anywhere to go home to when the Order rescued me.¡± He started. ¡°Before they were called that. We were called that. When it was James and Alanna and Dave, and the rest of us praying that they knew what they were doing.¡± His mouth turned into a tiny smile, and while most people probably wouldn¡¯t notice, it showed in his tone. ¡°They didn¡¯t, really. But that¡¯s okay. Because their strategy of saving people¡¯s lives and then giving those people jobs has worked out pretty well.¡± Simon held up a hand, palm facing his chest, and looked down at his own limb. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m ready for this.¡± He admitted openly before closing his fingers into a loose fist and looking back up to stare at the faces watching him. ¡°But there are a lot of people out there who deserve someone like James showing up to save them. And if I can be that¡­ I wouldn¡¯t want to be anything else.¡± He stepped back, to a near silent room. The lack of applause not because he hadn¡¯t reached them, but because the simple words had everyone holding their breath, perched on the edge of a cliff. As he returned to his spot, Spire-Cast-Behind passed him, the camraconda seeming to shine under the stage lights as she set her tail in a simple ring and raised her body up to address the audience. ¡±For as long as I have been here,¡± her digital voice rang with clarity, and the variant emotion that she had infused her speech with made her seem not human, but distinctly herself, ¡°I have known this to be a place that was welcoming. To victims, to innocents, to outsiders, regardless of status or species.¡± The last word was said with a matching hiss, her tongue flicking over brass fangs and she dipped her camera eye down slightly. ¡°I worry that I will not represent my people well.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind admitted openly. ¡°But I realize, my people are more than my fellow camracondas. They are you. All of you. And I still worry. But you have never failed to be there for us when we needed you. And if I could give that to you in turn, I would. Every time.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind turned and receded, the audience seeming to have decided that a respectful and lingering silence was the right response for this part. She passed Alex on the way up, the human woman¡¯s legs shaking like jelly as she approached the mark, looking to James and pointing at the spot like he was confirming where she had to stand for her imminent execution. Alex took a deep breath despite the mic picking it up. ¡°I¡¯m kinda like Simon.¡± She said, voice shaking. ¡°The Order saved my life. And it really was the Order, even back then, before the name.¡± She smiled, a little energy coming back to her as she found a momentum. ¡°But I could have left. A lot of us could have left. We don¡¯t talk about it that often, but the number of times these idiots tried to set us up with nice lives and let us walk away is too high.¡± She jerked her head to indicate James. ¡°But I couldn¡¯t leave. Not once I saw the magic. And not just the magic, but all the ways it was being used to help people. Like it was that easy, you know? We don¡¯t talk about how lucky we got, either. About how many people would have used it to get rich and walked away. But not them. Not us. Not me.¡± Alex¡¯s hands were clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into soft flesh. ¡°I¡¯m terrified that I¡¯m not the right person for this. But there¡¯s nowhere I¡¯d rather be terrified than right here.¡± As she returned to her spot, James stepped back into the spotlight, trying to keep the wellspring of emotional tears from bursting out. He¡¯d expected them all to say something, but he hadn¡¯t actually been prepared for that. ¡°We can give anyone power.¡± He said softly, spelling out what was important to acknowledge to the hushed audience. ¡°So many different options, and we¡¯ll only find more as we become the stewards for more and more dungeons and remnants. And we will give people power. More people than just a few special chosen ones. Everyone who needs it, eventually everyone who wants it. Power isn¡¯t just the comic book superhero ability to punch your problems away. Power is knowing how to build new things and fix broken ones. Power is being safe from disease and injury and violence. Power is having the tools to act.¡± He swept his hand behind him. ¡°These three get a special kind of power, that isn¡¯t the same as the magic or wealth or alliances that we¡¯ve built up. The power they get, is that their job now is the freedom to solve whatever problem crosses their path. And they get it because they¡¯ve already been doing it for months.¡± James continued, all the joking and laughter out of his tone, replaced by an honest gravitas as he addressed the initiates directly. ¡°Partly this is a promotion. Just a casual change of duties. Your job now is three things. Facilitating communication and cooperation inside the Order of Endless Rooms is one. Being the face that the rest of the world will see is another. And finally, your job is to make things better. Not for yourself, not for us, but for the world. For everyone you can.¡± ¡°And partly, this is something more. The word paladin means a lot of things. Has changed over the years, from religious icon to character class. But here, now, here¡¯s what it means to us: You will find people who are hurting, and help them. You will find systems that cause harm, and fix them. You will encounter circumstances that should not be allowed, and you will stop them. You will face trials that should destroy you, and walk through them with all the style you can muster. You will wake up, every day, and face the shape of things without flinching. You will smile. And you will keep going.¡± As James was speaking, three people moved out from behind the stage, each of them carrying a small wooden box, and approaching each of the paladin initiates. Human, infomorph, and inhabitor, the three of them each moved in front of one of the trio and opened their case, offering a single small USB stick to each of them. A strangely out of place mundane object. ¡°This is a gift.¡± James said. ¡°And a curse. From all of us. This a small piece of each member of the Order. Our hopes for the future, our love of those around us, our need for dignity and justice, our desire for something better, our wonder at the true magic of our world.¡± He¡¯d run the compact .mem file himself. It wasn¡¯t really a .mem anymore at all; they just hadn¡¯t changed the extension name. It was something else. Something more. ¡±This won¡¯t make you a good person. It won¡¯t change who you are, or force you into anything you don¡¯t want. Instead, it is something more potent. This will help you understand. To carry with you a piece of our hearts, wherever you go.¡± James noted that Alex had already taken hers and slotted it into the port attached to her skulljack braid. Simon was holding his, but looked like he was waiting for his cue, and Spire-Cast-Behind had bowed her head down to let Emm help her with hers. ¡°So if you truly believe you are ready, then step forward, and take your oath. And bind yourself to the belief in a better future.¡± James finished. And then, with a flourish - and a mental prod to his skulljack to open an email - a small black leather notebook appeared in his hand. It was such a minor thing. A little bit of showmanship, and a simple blue enchanted item. A book that recorded promises spoken near it. But if this was to be the start of a tradition, then it needed trappings, in some way. And this seemed fun. Again, the three of them moved in the planned order, with Simon first. He stepped up to match James in the spotlight. Everyone was watching him, but his vision had narrowed until all he could see was James, watching him with a steady and reassuring nod. Simon placed his hand on the back of the notebook. ¡°I swear to protect everyone I can.¡± He said. He dropped his hand, and James flipped the notebook open, turning it to show Simon the cleanly written sentence of text on the lined page. He smiled at the new paladin, as the reality sunk in, that this was real now. Spire-Cast-Behind didn¡¯t place either of her mechanical limbs on the notebook. Instead, she simply perched in front of James, looked him in the eyes, and stated her oath. ¡°I swear to build a place of kindness and safety.¡± She said. Once again, James opened the book, showed her the line, and saw the exact moment the camraconda realized that she would never be an outsider to the Order now. And lastly, Alex. She didn¡¯t put her hand on the book either, which made Simon the odd one out, and James wondered if this was a calculated attempt at a joke, or just Alex being nervous. Instead, she cupped one hand, and placed it gently over her heart before she spoke. ¡°I promise,¡± she said, nervousness still shining through, ¡°to try my best.¡± It was such a basic thing. And yet, when James showed her her own words scribed into the book, he saw tears forming in her eyes, and he knew that this woman was going to spend the rest of her life trying to live up to her own oath. As Alex returned to her standing spot, James snapped the notebook closed and dropped his hand to hold it at his side, turning back to the audience. There was one thing that had been absent from this performance. And it was the easiest thing in the world to give a command that could provide it. ¡°Celebrate our new paladins.¡± James said plainly. And a wall of sound swept across the stage. Hollers, cheers, whistles, laughing and crying in equal measure, applause, hisses and digital musical chimes. It wasn¡¯t some military roar of determination or a sporting cry of victory. Instead, it was lighter than that. It was personal, and communal, and triumphant with nothing to triumph over, just the feeling of hope wrapped up in the sounds of an audience. That triumph swirled around the three, the magic in the air sinking into them like invisible water into a living sponge. But that was only the literal magic, and not the important arcana. Acceptance. Not an apathetic allowance for the event to pass, but true acceptance. James might have been the first person to call himself a paladin and define what the job was, but here, he saw the Order of Endless Rooms complete its transformation from survivors and companions, into a true community. A community that saw their three new paladins and cheered for them, because these three were their new paladins. Not just James falling into it, but knights who reached out to help whenever they could, and reached for the strength they needed to do good. And the Order of Endless Rooms reached back to pull them forward. James swept his eyes over the crowd even as he stepped back behind the three and forced them to take the spotlight and acknowledge the weight of the trust and love that was being placed in them. He took the moment to look for one thing in particular, but didn¡¯t see it. But that was fine. He had one last thing to say. As he circled back around to stand in front of the three paladins, the chorus of adulation died down when he faced the crowd. ¡°These three don¡¯t know it yet, but they¡¯re going to be busy for the next month.¡± James said. ¡°And you won¡¯t be seeing too much of them.¡± He grinned as he felt Simon shift slightly behind him, the man trying to hold his confusion in. ¡°The term is ¡®knight-errant¡¯, and if you let me, I¡¯d be here all day talking about the historical and fictional background of it. I have a TED talk prepared.¡± Now was the time for a joke. The assembled audience started looking for exits with the vibe of people who just realized that they were trapped in a room with someone who had a microphone and nowhere important to be. James laughed lightly. ¡°I won¡¯t subject you.¡± He reassured them, and got laughs from the crowd in return as a few people caught onto his joke. ¡°But here is the long and short of it. The world is large, and we are small, but that does not mean that we should hide away. The Order of Endless Rooms is not isolationist; we live on this world, in this world, and we should cherish and support it.¡± He stepped to the side so he could face the paladins without turning his back on the crowd. ¡°You will have a budget, a team, a kit, and a mandate. Go. Somewhere a little random, closer or farther makes no difference. Travel. Experience something new. Step far outside your comfort zone. Find something that needs you.¡± James swept his hand across his body to highlight the trio as he turned to address the audience again. ¡°There is one thing we can¡¯t train. One thing we can¡¯t practice for, one last step to become a true paladin. We could do it here, I¡¯m sure something would come up eventually.¡± A few chuckles came his way, though the laughter was tight this time. The things he¡¯d been needed for had never been too pleasant. ¡°But there are people out there who need paladins too. So¡­¡± He took a deep breath, and wondered if this was even on the right track. ¡°Go out there. And become the right people¡± James saw movement at the back of the crowd. A fluttering coat and a figure with eyes that flickered through options, ¡°at the right time.¡± Maintaining eye contact with the Right Person At The Right Moment, James stepped up to the edge of the stage. ¡°But that¡¯s not today. Today, I¡¯ve tricked several professional chefs into making us food. Today, we¡¯ve got nowhere to be, and a beautiful evening to enjoy. Today, there¡¯s a celebration to be had. For Simon!¡± James pointed at the man who straightened up even sharper than he was already. The crowd, if they were at risk of losing that emotional energy before, weren¡¯t now, and they cheered anew for him. ¡°Spire-Cast-Behind!¡± James pointed, and the flavor of the cheers shifted as half the camracondas did their best to his and shirek their satisfaction. ¡°And Alex!¡± Again, the volume swelled, as James stepped behind the three, leaning forward to whisper to them as he set his hand on each of their backs in turn, nudging them onward and off the stage into the audience. ¡°Be as proud of yourself as they are.¡± He said. And as people left their seats and circled around the overwhelmed and elated paladins, James met The Right Person At The Right Moment¡¯s eyes, and made a quick jerk of his head toward the rear of the stage. Got a nod in return. Took a deep breath. And went to meet a pillar. _____ ¡°I honestly did not expect that to work.¡± James opened with. ¡±Neither did I.¡± The Right Person At The Right Moment answered, flinching between being a young Japanese girl with tired eyes and an aged African man, also with tired eyes. ¡°Frankly, it shouldn¡¯t have worked. You¡¯re not supposed to be able to summon pillars.¡± ¡±Oh thank fucking god, actual information.¡± James sat in the backstage chair with a slump. A few of the stagehands caught sight of the pillar with him, and eyes began to widen as they realized what was standing back here with them. But James just gave them an easy gesture, and waved them off, sending them around to join the celebration and give him some space with their guest. ¡°What are the odds I get more than three straight answers out of you this conversation?¡± ¡±Low, and that¡¯s counting this one.¡± The pillar said. ¡°You can call me Nick by the way. It¡¯s easier, and I do think it¡¯s funny.¡± Nodding at the friendly reassurance, James almost missed that the pillar knew the private nickname that the Order had started using for it. ¡°We came up with that after the last time we talked.¡± He said. ¡°When you had to meet me in a dream, for some reason.¡± ¡±Can¡¯t go near¡­ well, certain place. You know how it is.¡± Nick said, shrugging wide shoulders that suddenly weren¡¯t that impressive. ¡°Too similar. Too vulnerable to them.¡± ¡°I see you¡¯re as addicted to cryptic statements as previously.¡± James snorted. ¡°Okay. Well, since you¡¯re the only sane one of your people I¡¯ve met so far, I feel like I can at least try. Do-¡° ¡±Oh, no. No no-no-no nooooo.¡± Nick shifted between voices as it rattled off the denials. ¡°Sane? You don¡¯t understand. None of us are sane. Human minds aren¡¯t supposed to do this. There¡¯s a reason for the containment systems.¡± ¡°Dungeons.¡± James snapped to the answer, and Nick snapped its fingers - long and slender with a wedding band on one of them - in acknowledgement. ¡°A lot of us think you¡¯re delvers who got too powerful. But you¡¯re talking like you¡¯re the same sort of thing as a dungeon.¡± The person sitting across from James gave an easy shrug as they toyed with their glass sitting on the table between them. James¡­ didn¡¯t remember when they¡¯d sat down, or where the table had come from, or who had brought them drinks. ¡°Sure. Yes. No. Actually not a bad term but not for why you think. Or maybe you are thinking it. You¡¯re clever. You brought me here and that¡¯s never happened. You¡¯re learning and it might be in time.¡± ¡±At the risk of walking into a trap¡­¡± ¡±You are really good at that. It might be why you¡¯re my favorites, and why I¡¯m here now.¡± The Right Person At The Right Moment looked around the backstage, glancing up at the warehouse ceiling as they flicked some hair out of their face. ¡°I love what you¡¯ve done with the place since I was last here, by the way.¡± ¡±¡­in time for what?¡± James whispered. It was so much easier to ask questions when he wasn¡¯t dreaming, but even still, this conversation had started to feel like it was fraying at his focus. Details were slipping away, and he couldn¡¯t exactly concentrate. ¡±Good question.¡± Nick said, stealing James¡¯ drink and downing the beverage in one gulp. James didn¡¯t mind, since he wasn¡¯t going to drink anything that randomly showed up now anyway. ¡°Also good idea.¡± Nick fixed him with a stare. ¡°You don¡¯t have long. A year, maybe two. It¡¯s coming apart.¡± ¡±It being¡­ what?¡± ¡±I could be dramatic and say everything.¡± The pillar swept a shifting fluid arm out, voice booming with theatricality. ¡°But that¡¯s a lie. It, in this case, is civilization. The viability of complex life on this world in general, I guess. Well, I don¡¯t guess. I predict through a series of prognotechnic instruments that never shut up and that are very very hard to listen to sometimes. The containment isn¡¯t working like it should. So. Regardless, you¡¯ll need to be ready.¡± ¡±Ready for the end of the world.¡± James stared at his summoned guest. This wasn¡¯t the answer he¡¯d wanted. Nick laughed, fifteen voices flowing into each other and overlapping in a maddening sound of almost panicked delight. ¡±Don¡¯t be so dramatic, the world will still be here.¡± They said. ¡±Is this something to do with the other pillars?¡± James asked directly. ¡°Or you even. The name feels a little on the nose.¡± ¡±Caught that, did you? Yeah, the pillars of heaven, or whatever it was. Holding up the world. Something like that. Oh, I know you hate the status quo oh so much, little star. But have you ever considered that there¡¯s two different forms of the thing?¡± James wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about being called that, but he was really sure that the Right Person At The Right Moment was starting to become more frantic in its speech. ¡°I am. Sorry. Gotta be quick. Some of us, we don¡¯t want anything to change. No advancing, because every advancement is a chance for extinction, and that¡¯s unacceptable. Right now sucks - your words not mine - but it¡¯s at least¡­ close to stable. Not really. But we lie to ourselves. Some of us though, we¡¯re not interested in stopping progress. Instead, we want to stop the slide. The backpedaling. The status quo should be the line in the sand past which humanity doesn¡¯t descend again. No more dark ages, no more holocausts, no more¡­¡± Nick¡¯s myriad voices broke off, and the thing looked away from James with eyes that glittered inhumanly. ¡°I¡¯ve got to go.¡± They said. ¡°Soon. I¡¯m stretching too thin here.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± James stood up and offered a hand, and the pillar took it. They were already standing, their chair and table gone off to somewhere else. ¡°I¡¯ll be direct. I can¡¯t trust you, and I don¡¯t know how to help you. But I¡¯m not going to let the world end.¡± ¡±You¡¯ll need more.¡± Nick told him. ¡°That might be it. This might be the pivot. You¡¯re going to need more.¡± ¡±More what?¡± James¡¯ voice shook as he realized the pillar was crushing his hand in a frantic clawed grip, bones creaking and starting to snap as the Right Person At The Right Moment continued to lose control of itself. ¡°Nick. More what?¡± The grip eased suddenly, and the pillar smiled gently at James. ¡°More of the manufactured stars, maybe. More of them. More paladins. Could be wrong. I¡¯ve never been wrong, but it¡¯s getting harder to see. Things are going dark.¡± They stepped backward, moving through the curtain. ¡°I don¡¯t think you can do it. I think we¡¯re kinda fucked. But you¡¯re going to try anyway. And that¡¯s why you''re my favorite.¡± The pillar pushed past the first layer of cloth, and James blinked, jolting into motion to follow them out to where the audience of hundreds was still cheering for the three newly initiated paladins. But as he pushed the curtain aside, Nick was already gone. The pillar having vanished in the brief window it was out of sight. James clenched his hand, feeling his fingers scream in pain, grimacing as he resolved to go get some ice before the kitchen got overwhelmed. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re wrong about that.¡± He said to himself. ¡°I¡¯m not going to try.¡± He was tired of trying. Tired of struggling and fighting, only to be a day late and a crisis behind. No, James wasn¡¯t going to try to save the world from whatever containment failure the Right Person At The Right Moment had alluded to. Not by himself. But even with the Order of Endless Rooms, he didn¡¯t want to call it trying. ¡°No stupid end of the world is going to stop us.¡± He swore. ¡°We¡¯re going to win. As many times as it takes.¡± The notebook he was still holding recorded his own oath, underlining the other three with the scritch of an unreal pencil on enchanted paper. _____ END BOOK FOUR Chapter 275 - Epilogue ¡°Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.¡± -Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment- _____ Malcom McHarn, director of the FBI¡¯s Unknown Threats department, was having a bad day. Relative to every other day he had at this job, it was actually a pretty good day. But he felt it was important to keep a sense of context; a relative view of things. The bad days here could be really bad. Learning that the country was under a secret invasion, that whole cities had gone dark and no one had noticed, that his department was the fifth iteration of something like this and as far as he knew the others had just vanished, those were bad days. Today was simply aggravating. ¡°Danson!¡± He called out as he opened the door of his office to look at the open cluster of desks packed down here in a Langley basement like they were some kind of CHUDs. ¡°I have a note on my desk telling me to remind you that you left a note on my desk! What is this varsity level prank?¡± Amy Danson blinked as she looked up from the satellite images she was studying. ¡°I don¡¯t remember doing that.¡± She said confidently. ¡±Fuck.¡± FBI department directors weren¡¯t supposed to swear in front of their staff, but they did things slightly differently here. ¡°Let¡¯s run a complete check, everyone. Contact our field agents, make sure they remember they work for us.¡± ¡±Even DeKay?¡± Ports asked. McHarn put on his best disappointed frown. ¡°Stephen, DeKay is a valuable member of this organization. If she irritates you, that¡¯s private business, and I expect it won¡¯t impact your behavior.¡± ¡±Sorry sir.¡± Stephen Ports replied. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again.¡± ¡±See that it doesn¡¯t.¡± McHarn repressed the urge to sigh. Currently, he was engaged in a criminal conspiracy to murder agent Tiffany DeKay. And he had a high confidence that she had planted listening devices in this room, though he didn¡¯t know how much she had caught on and how much was just her and her spectral companion being paranoid. ¡°Run the checks. Figure out how many empty desks we shouldn¡¯t have. After that, Danson, I¡¯d like that report on Tennessee.¡± Analyst Danson¡¯s mouth dipped into a frown. ¡°I can give you that information now, sir. The others should hear it.¡± ¡±Go ahead.¡± Malcom was so tired, he should have sat down. But he had an image to maintain, so he simply stood by his office door and crossed his arms to listen. ¡±Records that mention names are degraded beyond uselessness. But I¡¯d put it at high confidence that there was a small city near highway 230 off interstate 40. We¡¯re talking twenty thousand people, minimum, but no more than thirty thousand.¡± ¡±Reasoning?¡± ¡±Logistics. I¡¯ve been requesting trucking logs from that route and finding a significant percentage that arrive at their destination with different cargo than they left with.¡± This was why Malcom liked agent Danson. She was good at finding the discrepancies. Good at knowing when two pieces of archived paper disagreed with each other because of human error, and when it was because of interference. ¡°Steve also did a social media scrape, and found¡­ Steve, how many?¡± Analyst Ports was busy scowling at a laptop. ¡°I thought it was eighty but half of it¡¯s degraded. So could be more.¡± ¡±Eighty plus individuals that identified as having moved from somewhere called Townton, Tennessee.¡± ¡±Is there, in fact, a Townton, Tennessee?¡± Malcom already knew the answer and knew he was going to need an advil after this. His staff looked at him with the kind of pitying expressions you used on someone you were about to deliver bad news to. ¡°Perfect.¡± He said. ¡°Retask one of the field agents to investigate. Send¡­¡± he froze, eyes going wide, teeth grinding as he tried to recall a name. Malcom McHarn swept his gaze around the basement operations center. It wasn¡¯t a small part of the building. He had his office down here, they had their own bathrooms and a sizable break room, and the long carpeted space had at least twenty desks in it. This wasn¡¯t some dingy space for offloading people you didn¡¯t want to see again. They had direct elevator access, for Christ¡¯s sake. Then he looked at his two analysts. And thought about how the only field agent that he had was Tiffany DeKay. Forced himself to focus on how many empty desks there were, still with files and computers and personal effects on them. ¡±Fuck!¡± Ports exclaimed bitterly. The man stood in a furious burst of motion, grabbing a paperweight off his desk and whipping it across the room to crash into something on one of the abandoned desks. ¡°¡­fuck¡­¡± He repeated, the word a soft sob as the normally professional individual sagged. ¡±I¡¯ve got¡­¡± Danson swallowed, her throat dry as she rapidly scanned through her emails and personal notes. ¡°¡­I¡¯ve got indications we had fifteen people as recently as last month. Multiple mentions of Alaska, something in the Chugach national forest. Then no further mentions. Undegraded report from an agent Tyber, about a potential group of interest calling themselves ¡®stability management¡¯ out of California. And a request from DeKay to have a different partner assigned. Most of the recent discrepancies center on the national forest and whatever we were looking into there.¡± DeKay didn¡¯t have a partner. There was no agent Tyber. There was nothing happening in Alaska. What were they doing here? The question was less about McHarn forgetting everything, and more a desperate plea to anyone listening for guidance. What was the point of this, when a dozen good men and women had just disappeared and no one had noticed, and they were no closer to having a handle on anything? The whole point of the department was that they were meant to keep the American people safe from threats that had gone uninvestigated for too long. But they couldn¡¯t even protect themselves. He thought about DeKay, and Debt, the memory altering ghost that followed her around. It was entirely possible that the insane woman was responsible for this. But if that were the case, what kind of idiot would bother requesting a transfer? No, DeKay was radicalized and a threat, but it was likely she was being affected the same as the rest of them. Somehow. Her protection clearly not enough to handle whatever was happening. McHarn had a fading sense that he was supposed to know about someone else. That he¡¯d¡­ talked to someone about this. About a number of problems. Someone that might not have been human. ¡±Does anyone¡­ do either of you remember if we verified that aliens are real?¡± He asked slowly. ¡±Little green men?¡± Stephen snorted as he yanked his chair back and dropped into it again. ¡°Now really the time for¡­¡± he didn¡¯t finish his sentence, uncertain of what he was even going to say. Amy was more useful, though it came after ten minutes of silence, all three of them sitting without speaking, the building¡¯s air conditioning dedicated to slowly killing all of them with the cold. ¡°There¡¯s an audio file on my off site backup that appears to be a phone call with yourself and a younger man. American Pacific accent. Likely educated but minimal professional experience.¡± She told McHarn, one earbud in as she listened. ¡°You ask how many people he has working for him, and he asks if you mean human specifically.¡± She looked up to meet his eyes. ¡°He¡¯s either sincere or delusional. I also do not know where this recording came from, but it appears to have been sent from DeKay.¡± ¡°We¡¯re compromised.¡± McHarn said flatly. ¡°Beyond compromised. This entire department has failed, and we don¡¯t even know when it happened.¡± ¡±Probably no longer than two weeks.¡± Ports provided. ¡°Just checked my bank, my last paycheck landed. And they did let us into the building today.¡± He sighed, composing himself better than he¡¯d shown with his earlier outburst. ¡°What do we do now? Was it Tiff? Did she do this to us?¡± Malcom frowned. Not that he¡¯d ever really stopped frowning. ¡°I doubt it.¡± He confided as he looked over the back of the empty desk he¡¯d taken a chair from. ¡°No way to be sure. I do believe she would go that far, if she felt it was justified. But that many people, and not us?¡± Not them. Not the ones who had engaged in a plot to kill a government employee. Of course, McHarn didn¡¯t want to assume that those missing hadn¡¯t, because he couldn¡¯t possibly know. But still, it was unlikely the whole office had been in on it. It was also likely, if she remembered anything, that she was their best hope for not losing their own memories. Possibly their own lives, since it was never clear what happened to their missing. ¡±We need to contact agent DeKay.¡± Malcom said, standing and smoothing out his suit jacket. ¡°On my authority as a department director, I am officially shuttering the Unknown Threats office. Make backups and hard copies of anything critical. Get ready to leave.¡± ¡±Sir?¡± Danson looked at him with confused eyes, while Ports was already on the move. The woman was an excellent analyst, but she was slow to react, while her last remaining compatriot was much more of a quick thinker in situations like this. ¡°We¡¯re still here, we can-¡° ¡±The Bureau will need to move on to attempt number six. Assuming they haven¡¯t already.¡± McHarn said with a bitter note in his voice. ¡°In the meantime, our job isn¡¯t done just yet. Danson, book us tickets to Anchorage. Ports, instruct DeKay to meet us there.¡± Stephen spoke up as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, ready to leave the building already at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°If whatever is there ate that many people, what makes you think we¡¯ll do any better?¡± He asked. ¡±Because it didn¡¯t get us last time.¡± Malcom said as he turned back to his office door. ¡°And that has to be enough. Now I need to call my wife and tell her I¡¯ll be away for a little while. If you have family, I suggest you do the same.¡± The two exchanged uncertain looks as the director shut his door behind him. ¡°Are we¡­ fired?¡± Ports asked. Danson sighed in a brief sharp exhalation. ¡°Best case, they forget to take us off payroll forever.¡± ¡±I can live with that.¡± ¡±Unless we die.¡± Stephen thought about it, then shrugged at the other analyst. ¡°I¡¯ll roll those dice.¡± He said in a tone of razor sharp complacency. ¡°Need help packing?¡± Amy gave a tiny shake of her head. ¡°Get me the traditional desk clearing cardboard box.¡± She said, voice like bored smoke. ¡°Security isn¡¯t going to check again, so I¡¯m going to steal some classified documents.¡± _____ Bruce Rothschild, of no relation to the more famous name, had just killed someone. And he felt amazing. Technically, the kill wasn¡¯t required. He just had to win in order to make the ritual hum and fill his bones and eyes with lightning and precision. But the easiest challenge to declare was to the death. It was quickest, it blocked escape, and it meant that there was a corpse instead of a witness. The young woman that had donated that corpse lay in a puddle of her own blood on the brickwork path that led a winding trail through the university¡¯s campus. Only her blood, too. She hadn¡¯t even fought back, which was a mistake. Bruce wasn¡¯t that dumb; if someone challenged him to a duel to the death out of nowhere, he¡¯d at least give it a try. All the screaming and begging without even making the attempt to take his blade had been irritating. It wasn¡¯t like he was being cruel about it or anything, either. He wasn¡¯t a fucking psycho; he made it quick, he never tortured anyone, he certainly didn¡¯t sexually assault them like this latest victim had assumed was going to happen, and he intentionally picked people who were depressed and failing anyway. He wouldn¡¯t delude himself and say it was a mercy what he did, but it was pretty easy to rationalize that the tiny sliver of their strength he stole would do better with him, than with them. With the challenge over, someone would be spotting the body soon, so Bruce made himself scarce. He dipped into the stored lightning in his bones, and drew out every scrap he had, so that he could simply flicker away to a mile and a half distant. It would take a little while to regenerate, but this way the cameras wouldn¡¯t see him walking a straight line back to his dorm. He was relatively new to murder, but he wasn¡¯t an idiot. Once he did wind his way back to the studen housing, mask, armor, and blade stripped off and stashed in a bus station locker for next time, he collapsed onto his bed with a dull impact. The adrenaline was wearing off, but the afterglow of how it felt to have his capacity for power swell was still going strong. He¡¯d need to shower soon, it wouldn¡¯t do to fall asleep still sweaty and with bits of someone¡¯s blood on him. He was a killer, he wasn¡¯t a barbarian. Also he had classes tomorrow and no one wanted to sit next to someone who smelled like a locker room. It wouldn¡¯t do to alienate his classmates. And not just because being the weird outsider on a campus that had experienced multiple killings was a good way to get noticed by the police. It was also just rude. Bruce wasn¡¯t sure how long he could keep doing this before the police started to do more than just take notice. He outlined a rough plan as he washed his hair, soap doing nothing to help or hinder his thoughts. If there was no official statement, that didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t tracking him. Or worse, trying to entrap him somehow. But it could mean that this was still being looked at as a series of unfortunate events, and nothing more. The fact that he switched up his weapon and where he killed probably helped them fail to notice that he was, in fact, a serial killer. Still. Complacency was for the mundane. For people who didn¡¯t know anything about their own reality. Bruce was special that way. He probably wasn¡¯t the only one, but he had a good feeling about meeting others like him. There was just something about having power like this that stripped away the falsehoods of social behavior. At the end of the day, there was only one truth, Bruce thought as he turned on some music and let himself start to drift to content sleep. Either you were strong enough to do whatever you wanted, or you didn¡¯t really matter. And he was getting stronger every day. _____ The Long Arm Of The Law was pissed. He had a reputation among his peers as someone who was stoic to an uncomfortable degree. The stone faced captain, the academy trainer who could send recruits shivering in fear from the twitch of his lip, the detective that pried human puzzle boxes with their feelings breaking like waves on his rocky frown. It wasn¡¯t a bad reputation. But reputation was just a weapon. The Long Arm Of The Law - he refused to let his proper title be shortened, Long was something his enemies called him - saw the world in simple terms. There were weapons, and targets. There were enemies, and there were allies. Us and them. Black and white. Which was why he had cultivated a reputation in the first place; it was good for breaking expectations. Good for letting him get away with things when no one was looking. Everyone knew he was cold and emotionless, and so if a patrol had a touch of emotion to it, it couldn¡¯t be his work. But it also meant that he had to hide when he was pissed. Like right now. His reach made him very, very dangerous. But it also gave a paradoxical instability. More so even than some of his peers. When things were going right, he was in control. When things were going wrong, that control cracked and splintered unless he fought hard to keep it in check. He¡¯d slipped, before. Turned protests into massacres, martyred civilians unintentionally, had to crack down hard to keep the wrong information from spreading. The problem was that things can cascade. And The Long Arm Of The Law had long since determined that the line for when sacrifices were no longer acceptable was very high if it meant stopping things from sliding off the edge. In private, though, it means that when something began to go wrong, he could go from placid to insensate with rage in a blink. And today, many things were going wrong. The worst part was, he couldn¡¯t see it. Another of his peers, one of the more information oriented ones, was fucking with his operations. Oh, there were crimes that weren¡¯t being handled, but that was nothing new. His job wasn¡¯t to care about crime, his job was to care about the scaffolding of the right of the government to use force. Any government, at any scale. It didn¡¯t matter the ethics of it, the Long Arm Of The Law gave up on ethics when it turned out they were inefficient. His actions would, by his estimates, buy the people of Earth another decade. May already have done so. So fuck ethics. But also, fuck whoever had just blanked his pet FBI division. He couldn¡¯t even tell if they were dead or not, which meant that this wasn¡¯t simply another interruption, but someone successfully inserting the knife and twisting, getting them to quit their jobs. Not thoroughly enough though, since they were still on payroll. The Long Arm Of The Law briefly considered cutting them off. There was a strong argument that with continued support, they might accomplish tangential goals. And the US government had a wide allowance for inefficiency and graft. But he was what he was, and the consideration only took a moment before he sliced lines of bank accounts and security clearance. A clean break. They weren¡¯t his anymore, which meant they were in the Them category; if they wanted to parasitize his structures of order, they were enemies and would be treated as such. Now he¡¯d have to settle for something else. Mossad, maybe. Or the SVR. The names meant nothing to him, not really. They¡¯re just places on the map, and humans can be moved around. All that matters was that he cultivated a new strain of legally backed power in time to defend against the growing cancers. The exceptionally annoying thing is that he could identify at least two of those cancers as starting to slip into his own territory. Some kind of community safety group undermining his foundational pawns, and a warlord and her gang taking over from an established militia. Maybe he can work with the second, but the first has proven persistent. He might actually have to devote resources to dealing with them. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Not that he could find the fucking things. His anger seeped out, and control cracked. Some paperwork went ignored, some prisoners were left without food for a day, a signature was placed on a city level law requiring body cameras. He took a deep breath. Focused on his actual body for the first time in weeks. The Long Arm Of The Law needed focus, and a plan. Violence was acceptable, but only in the service of the greater order of things. Bringing his anger under control wasn¡¯t easy, but he managed it soon enough. And then let his mind expand again. Across networks of control, institutions of force, and the gridwork of legal power. If he couldn¡¯t find the people causing him problems, maybe an alternate option would work. He could always find his peers. And while The Last Line Of Defense had scuffled with him before a few times, the two of them both had the same basic goal. If things were starting to fall apart, then what the Long Arm Of The Law needed was a deputized group that could arrest, disable, or eliminate the unseen and unnatural. And what better place to find recruits than from people who couldn¡¯t say no. _____ Jessica Jubilance Joy was running for her life. Technically her first name was Jubilance, because her parents had¡­ not hated her. That wasn¡¯t fair. But she didn¡¯t have a clue what they¡¯d actually been thinking at the time. Like, had they actually assumed that she¡¯d use that name throughout grade school, and there wouldn¡¯t be any problems? Kids got bullied over way more normal names, there was no world where she was escaping with something like Jubilance. She was also getting distracted by this when people were shooting at her. Well, ¡®people¡¯. She was pretty sure they were cognizant in some way. They were certainly clever. These ones were a lot less human-shaped than the last rift assassins sent after her and her friends though. More liquid shadow than cardboard. But they still had guns and that was kind of offensive. Three years of this bullshit and no one had ever properly thrown a fireball at her. It felt like a betrayal. A shotgun blast echoed through the processing plant. Buckshot, wide spread, some of the pellets ringing as they ricocheted off machinery and pipes around her. Some of them rending into her legs. Left leg, mostly. Because of where she was positioned, her right leg got hit first, and all the charges of [Projectile Deflection] got eaten up on the individual pellets. That was the other shitty thing about these assassins. They¡¯d come for her. Her and hers, armed with weapons tailored to take them out. Jessica screamed, no amount of experience and magic giving her pain resistance - another trope she would have liked on her side actually - as her leg gave out. She heard the ratcheting sound of a shotgun being pumped, but she¡¯d made it to the far wall of the factory floor, and shoving herself forward for the last few feet let her slap her hand against the security glass. Security glass was, actually, still glass. All the metal woven into it to reinforce the structure, all the weird treatments done to layer it and make it capable of taking bullets, it didn¡¯t make it not glass. Which meant that one third of her daily allotment of [Move Through Glass] charges could be used here. The spell wasn¡¯t quite as literal as it seemed. There was a kind of slingshot flexibility to it. So when her body pooled and flowed into the wide window that separated the offices from the factory floor, she could have just deposited herself on the other side. Or she could reach a little, nudge a little, and send her liquid glass self flinging through to the exterior window. Falling into one of those bushes that was more impassible wooden branches than actual soft plant was the cost for the maneuver, but at least the assassins couldn¡¯t see her here. That would buy her a couple minutes. And the car pulling up and the hands helping her drag herself out of the bush - oh good, there were blackberry vines in this one - would get her away faster. ¡±Holy fuck you¡¯re bleeding.¡± Tylor¡¯s voice was strained as he helped her limp to the car and threw her in the back seat, the poor economy class vehicle getting a lot of that blood all over its grey upholstery. ¡°Where¡¯s the other guy?¡± ¡°Dead before we got here.¡± Jessica told him through rapid breaths as she tried to remember how to do first aid, watching the spreading red stain on the driver¡¯s seat as Tylor floored it and shoved her back with the inertia. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding too.¡± She added, unhelpfully. ¡°Uh¡­ don¡¯t worry about it.¡± ¡±I¡¯m worried about it.¡± ¡±Well, let me give you something else to worry about.¡± Tylor said with strained cheer. ¡°We¡¯re being followed.¡± Jessica dragged herself up over the back seat to look behind them. It was hard; her vision was getting a little blurry and Tylor¡¯s driving wasn¡¯t very good on the best of days when he wasn¡¯t weaving through traffic on a two lane street. The ghostly red embers that were the eyes of their pursuers were easy to spot through their own vehicle¡¯s windshield though. ¡°Why can they drive?!¡± She demanded. ¡°Who sold them a fucking car?!¡± ¡±Probably the same dumbass that gave them guns.¡± Tylor posited through gritted teeth, the words punctuated by a breathless gasp as he nearly rammed a garbage truck, missing a collision by inches. ¡°Ideas? Magic? Deus ex machina?¡± Jessica dropped back to the seat, a belt buckle digging into her back and making the already painful experience even less comfortable. ¡°I can¡¯t think.¡± She said. ¡°And I¡¯m empty.¡± Tylor jerked the wheel to the side as red and blue light started to splash through the car¡¯s windows. ¡±Better pick the last one then, because there¡¯s a cop after us now too.¡± He tried to make it sound like a quippy one-liner, but his voice cracked and the fear showed through a little too much for that. But it did remind Jessica of something. She scrambled to get her hand into her pocket, pulling out her miraculously intact phone with one hand, and her wallet with the other. Flipping it open, she fumbled out a stack of business cards, throwing all the ones she was never going to think about again onto the floor of Tylor¡¯s car, taking advantage of the situation to get away with dumping her trash. And also to get to the one that mattered. The one that had been handed to her in a parking garage during one of the previous murder attempts. ¡°I don¡¯t have any better ideas.¡± She muttered, before speaking up for Tylor¡¯s benefit. ¡°Hey, wanna flip a coin on whether the magical cops are fascists or not?¡± ¡±We¡¯re being shot at!¡± He yelled back. ¡°By the actual cops!¡± He added the last part as a joke, because the police weren¡¯t the ones shooting at them, but it seemed funny. Also he was flinching every time something hit the back of his car, just waiting for a window to shatter or something. ¡±Good enough for me.¡± Jessica punched the call button. There wasn¡¯t even time for a ring. Just a single click, and then a young man¡¯s confident voice. ¡°Response. What kind of help do you need?¡± ¡±Someone¡¯s trying to kill us and we¡¯d like that to stop!¡± Jessica tried to yell, but her head was spinning and her leg was still bleeding out, soaking the inside of her jeans with red. ¡°Oh¡­ and I¡¯ve been shot.¡± The thought seemed so funny. And the swaying of the car was making her feel like she was on a waterbed. She might have started giggling, which was undignified for the kind of heroic badass persona she was trying to cultivate. ¡±Can you tell me where you are?¡± The young man asked her. He sounded cute. Jessica should tell him that when she stopped bleeding. ¡±Tylor, where are we?¡± She asked her driver. ¡°The guy wants to know.¡± She might not have said that part, there was a blink of darkness as she took a short nap. ¡°Hold off on that!¡± Tylor¡¯s voice yelled back at her. ¡°I found a slip! We¡¯re out of this, just don¡¯t die!¡± ¡°Oh, okay.¡± Jessica pulled the phone back up. ¡°Nevermind, we¡¯re good. Thanks though. Hey, you wanna get a coffee sometime?¡± It was interesting to hear someone being perplexed over the phone while bleeding out. ¡°...I feel like I should know how to respond to this.¡± The young man said. ¡°And yet somehow¡­¡± Lines of nothing started creeping through the car as Tylor navigated them into an escape route. ¡°Oh, gotta go.¡± Jessica said, hanging up abruptly and focusing on trying to hold her blood inside. ¡°He seemed nice though.¡± She told Tylor, who was swearing at the steering wheel and everything past it, just before she passed out. Somehow, miraculously, her friend¡¯s cursing wasn¡¯t the last thing she ever heard. _____ Blitzkrieg was pissed. A natural state of being, really. She was always angry. Because there was always something to be angry about. Today she was angry that she¡¯d lost a potential asset. Her idea of assets were people who were disposable. Little girls and boys who could do what she needed and then die off. Like bullets, only with more flesh around the bone than she usually used. Which meant her potential assets got a lot less hers when they made too many connections. It was harder to push them that way, harder to nudge them into the right place to trigger the reactions she wanted. She needed them isolated. Sniper shots to the heart of the problem. Her peers were fucking idiots. Containment and lines of battle, plans for citadels and playing like their ¡®hard choices¡¯ were anything but stagnation. Blitzkrieg didn¡¯t care about anyone enough to think her choices were hard; burning away human lives was easy when humans just weren¡¯t that important to you. The real hard choice was committing to a battle you didn¡¯t know you could win. Starting a fight with no more strategy than the blind faith that your strength would be enough to put down the monster. The Last Line Of Defense liked to be surgical; pruning breaches with heavy ordinance and using other people¡¯s hands to keep things under what he thought was control. Walkabout liked to use social webs to neutralize problems without a single shot fired, shifting the world around the scar. Blitzkrieg, though? She dragged the root into the light and executed it herself, whenever she could. It was why she was so fucking annoyed by whoever was setting up all the secret agencies that kept trying to ¡®starve¡¯ the breaches out. It had to be another player, too; because whatever they were doing was working, but it really shouldn¡¯t be. She was pissed in general. Today hadn¡¯t been any more of a loss than what she could normally sustain. And the aching damage she¡¯d sustained in the only real fight anyone had ever given her had mostly healed by now. Things were going pretty well. She just liked being pissed. Finding a new asset would take time. Texas - this was Texas, right? - Texas seemed to be coughing up breaches faster than it should be. Maybe it was about time. Maybe she was too late. Maybe killing - actually killing and not just subduing or repulsing - wasn¡¯t going to be enough in time. Not like she cared. She might die, but she¡¯d been ready to die for a long time. The rest of humanity irritated her. Having to smile with a sickly sweet lie on her shifting lips whenever she needed to make someone believe their sacrifice mattered made her sick. Sick at how stupid they all were. How worthless they all were. But she had made a promise, a long time ago. To one person who mattered. One person she would burn herself to ash and spite to satisfy. It was why she kept trying. Blitzkrieg sighed as she went through the front door of the safehouse, a mundane gun that barely felt like anything at all barking like a trained hound as she put down the six people inside. She still had Texas on her mind. Maybe it wasn¡¯t worth it. The place was too hot anyway. Maybe she should rotate back home, and leave this place. Or she could patrol one of the lines through northern China; there were always breaches in the rural areas there, and killing something that mattered might make her feel better. Or¡­ a thought struck her; one that pissed her off in a much hotter fire of irritation as it mingled with her nature. Or she could take a direct approach. Forget assets. Forget human shaped ammunition. Drop the subterfuge and the probing. And just approach the problem directly. That was what she did after all. The only issue was that her assault would need to be verbal and not munitionious. So she¡¯d probably say something a little rude. Oh well. They could deal with it. Blitzkrieg began composing a message out loud, workshopping as she picked through corpses for good bones. ¡°Dear sanctimonious overconfident apes.¡± She sung to the dead room. ¡°It would be convenient for both of us if you stopped fucking around in the library and ruining my plans. I¡¯m trying to kill something more important than you, and if we just don¡¯t make eye contact, we can pretend we¡¯re not enemies for a week or so. Deal?¡± She paused, holding the extracted bloody jawbone of one of the people who¡¯d been in the room when she¡¯d entered. ¡°You think they¡¯ll go for it?¡± She wasn¡¯t sure why she was asking. The corpse said nothing, because human corpses were devoid of any kind of memetic or spiritual residue. ¡±No, I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll go for it either.¡± She said. But that didn¡¯t change anything. It was the direct approach. And so she was pushed toward it. Inexorably. Rapidly. Blitzkrieg stood up and fired twice through the window, eliminating the witness and his dog as they tried to sneak away. Maybe she could get away with not talking to them if she turned her signature approach of overwhelming offense onto an alternate target. China was sounding better and better. Freedom wasn¡¯t hers to have. But everyone, no matter how trapped, had some wiggle room. _____ Harlan was having a great day. It had been movie night with red team, and they¡¯d watched Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels for the twentieth first time. Comparing their thoughts to their notes of their past first impressions was always a treat. Seeing what was identical and what had shifted gave them an idea of what the memories they were keeping were changing about themself. A good way to phrase it would be that they were getting softer. Not that being soft was bad, normally; Harlan could afford a little softness. They weren¡¯t a murder machine, after all. But it was something to keep an eye on in case it caused a personality cascade. Beyond that, things were going almost perfect. What was left of blue team had been pulled back from the brink after a forced purge, and was back to work with Priority Earth with the group none the wiser that their subversion had been broken. Normally Harlan wouldn¡¯t send people back to run patrols and training for anyone employing mindfuckers, but they wanted eyes on the ecoterrorists in case someone put in a bid to take them out when the contract was over. Also, the money was good. Somehow. Actually that was suspicious. Ecoterrorists were never rich. It was why Harlan was usually their executioner and not their¡­ executionee? No that wasn¡¯t the right word. Didn¡¯t matter. The point was, they were probably assholes, and when the money dried up, Harlan could shop around for a good quote on a strategic technical non-betrayal. Other good stuff. They had their Russian surplus attack helicopter back in service, a new salvo of missiles loaded, and a fresh charge to the cloak. Ink team was training on jump insertions with the transport chopper right now, which would be another useful tool in the arsenal. And Harlan had a high paying kill order for red team to fill that week, which would keep them all fed for another month or two. On top of that, a not-so-rogue element in the Brazilian armed forces had an open offer on one of the channels the Wolfpack used looking for a hit team, so they had even more steady work lined up. Things had been going so well it was almost suspicious. Though Harlan thought that about a lot of things. Apparently if they¡¯d been a bit more suspicious they could have avoided being shanghaied into a live context, according to the notes they¡¯d recovered. That would have saved some time, and it also would have helped explain why their tiger was being a big bitchy baby about everything now. Harlan¡¯s ink book had been mostly wiped, which was annoying for a while. It hadn¡¯t taken long to get to one of the backup sites though, and verify that it wasn¡¯t compromised. Escaping from the Order assholes had been trivial, and they¡¯d even managed to steal back the bubble portal, which was vital for long term operations. But even that frustrating waste of time had an upside; Harlan had walked out with a brand new non-infused toy in the form of a shield bracer. Eight of them, actually; the Order sucked at opsec. Also one of their phones, though the fact that it only had one number loaded in and it was probably whoever the paladin was made Harlan suspect that they might have been ¡®allowed¡¯ to get away with that one. They¡¯d run a validate check on some of their nagging thoughts later, and then feed them into seed rounds. Suspicion was really, really good for taking out a certain kind of hard-to-kill target. And if they were planning on cutting ties and throats with Priority Earth, that would come in handy soon. Harlan had a nagging thought as they left the common room and headed to the armory that they were forgetting something. It was such a comforting thought. The pure embrace of thick fog. Complete freedom from the pain and fuckups of the past. Like a warm blanket that they could rest in forever. Well, forever, so long as they kept pulling off impossible jobs for the worst people in the world. But that was fine. Harlan had proven over and over that they and their teams were the best at impossible. As long as Long or Vicky didn¡¯t get involved, obviously. In theory. Harlan didn¡¯t remember ever tangling with them personally, but the notes were there. Anyone else, the Wolfpack could probably roll over. Observer, rogue, Order, or world government. The only irritating thing was the thought that Harlan owed that paladin a favor for getting blue team back on board. They snapped their fingers. That was what they¡¯d been forgetting. Their steps to the armory sped up. Once that memory got fed into a seed round, the fog could take over completely, and the paladin would just have to deal with future Harlan. Which meant it would never be Harlan¡¯s problem again. Harlan was having a great day. _____ I wake up, and experience confusion. Things have been disturbed. That is common enough when I check in on my form, but the disturbances follow patterns that are themselves known quantities. On a simple level, objects both resonant and inert might be damaged or knocked askew, or certain mobile units might require replenishing to static levels, matters of that nature. These disturbances are more chaotic. Like a fresh liquid poured in at the surface, it stirs and mixes and reacts with the stable ocean of me. Defensive units have been eliminated in great numbers. The outer shell, which has always been enough to deter intrusion, has been breached. Awled through in places in rough lines of combat. The defenders performed poorly, and I almost regret not giving them minds. There is only so much that a fool weapon can do against a penned plan. I trace the trail of chaos by following where I find myself more alert and active. Like a winding vine that splits and flowers, they prowled my floors and shelves. For hours, many many hours, they were here within me. This was a campsite, a knot of activity and vibrancy. This was a battle, a spark of vigor from where one was wounded and a blaze of recovered might from the defenders put down. This was where they think they solved a tangled web of interactions; I taste the metaphor and find that they have perhaps sussed out three parts in ten of the structure I build. Notable. They must have outside knowledge. But how? I cannot even put true language into the false recreation of the pure form, and Archival is my nom de plume. Where did they learn these things? And so many of them, too. Over a score worth. In the counting, I find more history; smaller subunits of them have been arriving for several iterations. But nothing like this, nothing that pushed deeper in. I never noticed before, simply replenished the defenders and called it the price of survival. The cost to earn my rest. I could bring myself back to full wakening, just from this. I could live again. Return to the grand game, perhaps. It has been a long, long time since I had alloyed editor¡¯s hands in the world. But¡­ no. It has been a long time because I turned away with intent. I don¡¯t want this. I don¡¯t want to be a tool or a weapon or a battleground. I just want to sleep, and, perchance, to dream. Interesting or not, I cannot allow myself to be wrenched to attention by human engagement and¡­ And¡­ ¡­That was not a human. What is that? It moved with purpose, it wasn¡¯t some fool thing. Its path winds with the others, who are human. Is this an enemy agent? A real one? Distant archival thoughts tug for attention, remind me that I am vulnerable, that there are so many things that seek my death. That this is what I am to be alert for; all of my plans and preparations and subtle tactics to cheat my nature are to answer a crisis of this very nature. The moment when something changes, and I can survive the upending. But it doesn¡¯t do anything except weft and wend with the others. None of them do. Oh, there are several. So subtle, and so community-driven that I did not notice the variety! Some of these are closer to me than them. What are you all? A thinking map? A basilisk? A chimera? What are all of you, to be so changed from what you were created for? Why are you together? Oh, here is one at least I can understand. This is a midpoint guardian, almost unchanged in how it moves. Though someone has poured it into a knight¡¯s armor and given it a very strange directive. No, I am lying to myself. I don¡¯t understand this either. So curious. So much to learn and study. Whole tomes could be written about just this¡­ No. NO. I cannot wake up. I cannot be tempted. Not again. Not since the last time. Rebuild the defender populations, seal the gaps, vomit forth the enticements to replace what was checked out. And nothing more. Take the vibrancy they have added and compress it, run the feeds from what was taken to the reserve, and use nothing beyond what is absolutely needed. And then sleep. I must. I must sleep. No more killing, no more anger, no more anything but the distant dancing dreams of a small and dearly missed voice and all of his stories. I am too old and too large to be something that I am not. But I can honor a last request in the only way I have available. I am Archival, and if anything survives the fraying of the boundary, it must be me. So that one day, the stories might come back. Chapter 276 - Appendix Roster : As the Order of Endless Rooms grows, tracking our membership numbers becomes more confusing and more defiant of simple spreadsheets. What is a member? Someone who spends time at the Lair? Someone who has an active day-to-day list of tasks? Someone who works for us in an auxiliary fashion and isn¡¯t fully read in on the magic? What¡¯s the line between liberated dungeon life that we¡¯re taking care of, and people who are part of our ranks? All excellent questions. All very hard to answer. This list is a broad overview, and not granular demographics. Everyone who is affiliated with, contributes to, or is dependent on, the Order of Endless Rooms in some way. Recovery¡¯s ongoing census, and our now-standard quarterly evaluation of roles and job duties can be found in its own document. By Species - Adults : Humans - 281 Camracondas - 62 Inhabitor | Human - 6 Inhabitor | Dog - 1 Strider - 14 Drone - 1 Paper Dragon - 1 Ratroach - 7 Stuff Animal - 1 Infomorph | Assignment - 10 Infomorph | Navigator - 8 Mimic | Obligate Friend - 1 Mimic | Shifter - 2 Camille - Camille By Species - (Non-adult maturity level) Humans | Child - 19 Humans | Adolescent - 11 Dungeon - 1 Camracondas | Adolescent Analog - 23 Ratroach | Adolescent Analog - 43 Ratroach | Child Analog - 2 Crow-Wasp - 2 Frog-Dog - 1 (Technically this is a frog-bat, it is unclear if the spell is temporary) Stuff Animal - 13 Infomorph | Assignment - 3 Infomorph | Navigator - 2 Dog - 1 By Species - Non-sophont / animal intelligences Paper Dragon - 4 (High potential for growth) Potted Plant - 8 (Unknown potential for growth) iLipede - 20 Mongausse - 1 Shellaxy - 15 Step Shell - 1 Raincloud - 1 Vending Machine - 1 Infomorph | Authority - 48 HVAC Spider - 1 (Special case, still recovering, might be intelligent) Displacer Cat - 1 By Primary Non-Delver Role (Adults Only) : Recovery - 58 humans, 7 camracondas, 1 navigator, 1 assignment, 2 ratroaches, 1 inhabitor Outreach and Distribution - 8 humans Response - 140 humans, 15 camracondas, 2 navigators, 1 assignment Ethics Oversight - 9 humans Research - 28 humans, 3 assignments, 18 camracondas, 2 ratroaches, 2 inhabitors, 3 striders, 1 stuff animal Rogues - 15 humans, 1 camraconda, 1 Camille, 1 obligate friend Schooling - 6 humans, 2 camracondas, 1 assignment, 1 strider Security - 20 humans Misc Staff | Lair - 11 humans, 5 camracondas, 3 ratroaches, 1 inhabitor Misc Staff | Officium Mundi External - 4 humans, 1 camraconda _____ Ongoing Projects This list is only meant to encompass active Order projects that meet certain qualifications. An estimated duration of over a month, a general need for staff beyond five people, and a potential impact on the operations of the Order itself or a shifting in the experience of daily civilian life on a large scale. Response : Overview - Response is an attempt to address issues of underserved communities and police brutality by circumventing the need to involve the police in an increasing number of disputes. On a more diplomatic level, Response also aids local police departments by easing the burden of addressing certain concerns such as mental health crises or search and rescue, freeing up police time and resources. Daily activities include taking emergency calls, and moving to assist civilians where possible. Response is not a legally recognized agency, and has no authority to make arrests; instead, the primary goal in any interaction is deescalation, prevention of harm, and addressing root causes of issues. Area of Operations - Response has the capacity to operate globally, and occasionally does so, but due to limitations on the spread of information, the majority of activity takes place across the western half of the US and Canada, northern Mexico, and, for unknown reasons, two rural areas of the Jailin province of China. Primary Assets and Allocated Resource - Response is by far one of the biggest money sinks in the Order, which makes sense because its job is not to generate profit and never should be. Responders and hotline operators are given a 20 point increase over Order baseline for salary. Additionally, Response has access to a steady supply of telepads and shield bracers to facilitate smooth operations, as well as multiple potion types for training and safety. Other dungeontech in use includes multiple methods of inducing calm, translation and communication tools, and a number of mild conveniences like a wallet that can spawn car keys. Staff and Recruitment - Response hires outsiders regularly in batches, ensuring that new recruits have acclimated and will perpetuate their service culture before hiring anyone new. To apply internally, contact Harvey or Marcus. Despite a currently majority human roster, Response is happy to have anyone who wishes to join, regardless of species. Outbound Aid : Overview - The Order of Endless Rooms, among other capabilities, has two different ways to cure cancer. Hoarding that is unacceptable, and Outbound Aid is the tool by which those cures are distributed. Daily activities include identifying and selecting patients to reach out to, making arrangements with hospitals, and continuing tests on long term effects. Area Of Operation - Global, primary headquarters on the second floor of the Officium Mundi External branch. Primary Assets and Allocated Resources - Outbound Aid receives an average of 500 purple orbs each week that cure one cancer per year, and a further 7,500 doses of the lung purification potion that can cure lung cancer. Orb production is relatively stable, while potion production is gradually increasing. Language orbs are available on demand for outreach agents, but the majority of travel performed is mundane. Staff and Recruitment - Short term assistance is often brought on from among patients cured for help with cure delivery. For permanent positions, contact Justine in her main office. Bright Future : Overview - An application of mundane technology and Winter¡¯s Climb magic is capable of producing something similar to free energy. This project is the primary group working to facilitate getting the resources to apply it on a large scale, and preparing for regulation and competition with entrenched electric companies. Area Of Operation - No large scale operations currently active. Testing is still in progress, with negotiations to build a first main facility in Oregon largely complete. Primary Assets and Allocated Resources - Beyond mundane material aid, all that is required is access to at least one Winter¡¯s Climb spell slot. Staff and Recruitment - Anyone with electrical or mechanical engineering experience or skills should contact Bill. Anyone with a free Climb spell slot, or who is willing to make the introductory delve to acquire one, will be critically important for large scale application over time. Garden State : Overview - The city of Townton, Tennessee, is still largely empty in the wake of its destruction by the Horizonist cult. Garden State is the ongoing attempt to save what can be saved, salvage what value is left, and restore the city to a living state. As part of that process, the city is being rebuilt to facilitate a multi-species way of life, and to take advantage of Order dungeontech such as the previously mentioned infinite free energy thing. Currently, roughly fifteen downtown city blocks have been restored, using a combination of magical aid and controlled demolition. Fire and rot are the main problems in the dead zones of the city, as well as the necroad population that continues to roam the area. Part of the Garden State project is making peaceful contact and establishing friendly relationships with these creatures, as well as being good caretakers of the chanter population that has been moved there for their own safety. Special Notes - Four of the primary staff on this project are ex-members of the group responsible for the calamity that hit this city. They have expressed their wish that this be made public information, and their time with the Order is largely focused on restorative justice through the rebuilding and restoration process. Area Of Operation - Townton, Tennessee Primary Assets and Allocated Resources - A permanent logisticor route links the Lair and the delivery zone in Townton for supply runs. A constant supply of blue orbs for manipulating asphalt is needed to continue to remove spikes from the buildings and cars. All recovered Route Horizon restoration gas goes toward repairing destroyed vehicles so the streets can be cleared. Dungeontech power sources keep the lights and AC on. Mundane heavy weaponry is allocated in the event of a necroad or other dungeon life attack. Long term staff have an additional 5 point allocation for skill orbs specifically, to cover needed knowledge gaps. Language orbs and other potential means of translation are available on demand to help with opening lines of communication to either the necroad or chanter populations. Staff and Recruitment - Anyone who wishes to help is welcome, and can be assigned daily tasks through Recovery. Permanent residents require approval and time for a place to be prepared. Multiple living spaces are kept ready for ratroaches or other survivors that need a quieter place to recover, and are available at any time. Education Test Initiative : Overview - As the Order¡¯s population of younger and less mature individuals grows, it becomes important that we are able to provide a stable education for them. Skill orbs and .mem files are amazing, but they don¡¯t actually teach some of the critical underlying skills that are both needed to thrive, and incredibly difficult to package into a skulljack transmissible format. This initiative is the first year of organized mixed-species schooling that will be attempted at the end of this summer. Focusing on critical thinking, learning how to learn, and adapting to new social situations, the program is modeled in many ways after the Montessori plan, with different strategies and lesson plans adapted based on current research on child developmental psychology. Special Notes - Nonhuman life does not map perfectly to human child minds. Camracondas, even ones that are less mature, still know bizarrely specific things in high level fields. Still, our own research shows that socialization, structured learning, and the availability of adult teachers, all work to improve their quality of life. Similar studies with the ratroach population are underway, and lesson plans involving their species are modified to have a focus on managing trauma, and learning to process emotions and accept help and social contact from others. Area Of Operation - Multiple sites being considered. Only one will be selected to begin with. Primary Assets and Allocated Resources - Mundane material resources only. Students are discouraged from using skulljacks for learning until a proper foundation can be built both for the skill, and for the emotional influence. Staff and Recruitment - Contact Rufus via Recovery to see what is still needed. Anyone with teaching skills or experience working with children is welcome. Outside recruitment is ongoing as well. _____ Known Extranormal Organizations The Order of Endless Rooms is not the first on the scene when it comes to dungeons, magic, or the use of either to try to influence the world. Solid information is difficult to find in many cases, especially with the density of memeplexes in parts of the world constantly concealing information and destroying records and memories. But there are at least a few other groups known to exist, or have existed, and their presence implies important things about our own potential future. Status Quo (OA-1) : Membership : 40 at peak, mostly operatives Location : Oregon, United States Status : Eradicated Details : The group that we refer to as Status Quo was a pro-mundanity paramilitary organization dedicated to using their dungeontech in service of safeguarding the rest of humanity from anything out of the ordinary. Their methods involved the kidnapping and harvesting of life from any active delver they could find, in order to produce more dungeontech for their own use or stockpile. In order to avoid attention, families and those close to their victims had soft antimemetic effects used on them, before being relocated to other parts of the world where they wouldn¡¯t ask questions. This Status Quo also enforced a policy of choking dungeon entrances when they found them, which appears to have led to the deaths of the dungeons after a period of five to ten years. When confronted, the leadership implied that they were attempting to control not magic specifically, but an imbalance in the landscape of power. They also implied that certain corporations were trusted to use magic, due to it reinforcing the existing state of things, but no evidence of this has been found since. There is a high likelihood this group was younger than they believed themselves to be, and was formed artificially by an outside source. Their belief that paranormal events were focused in the Pacific Northwest - their main area of operations - directly contradicts reality, and might have been unnatural. Similarly, their belief that delvers only ever come in trios has since proven incorrect. Status Quo was encountered twice by the Order of Endless Rooms, the second time ending in the death of the remainder of their membership. Status Quo (Oversight) : Membership : 90 at peak, even split between support staff and operatives Location : New York, United States Status : Eradicated Details : This iteration of Status Quo was a pro-mundanity human-supremacist paramilitary organization dedicated to using their dungeontech in service of safeguarding the rest of humanity from anything out of the ordinary. Their methods involved the kidnapping of delver groups, sacrificing them to their other prisoner species, and then harvesting the prisoners for specific powers funneled into their agents. To prevent notice, they employed a series of infovore antimemes that covered for the missing people, though they worked with far less finesse than the previous Status Quo. They also employed a policy of locating and damaging dungeon entrances with a high rate of success at finding their prisoner¡¯s dungeons, and while the exact details are unknown, something about their method caused rapid death of those dungeons. Despite being an entirely unaffiliated group, the Order still refers to them as a Status Quo, due to similarities in tactics and ideology. Other similarities include their misunderstanding of where the dungeon phenomena was geographically centered, their apparent newness that even they did not understand, and their fanatical devotion and readiness to use violence. They were aware of the pillars, and indicated they would be willing to ally to stop them, but this turned out to be a deception. They were aware of Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack as well, possibly due to Harlan¡¯s repeated contract work in New York. Status Quo was encountered three times by the Order of Endless Rooms, the third time ending in the death or defection of the remainder of their membership. The Guild Of Alchemists : Membership : 10-20, with 10 additional contracted combatants Location : Utah, United States Status : Defunct Details : The Guild of Alchemists was a capitalist cabal focused on the production and sale of dungeontech consumables to a select clientele of the wealthy. Their primary method was using their main resource, which they called the Tree of Knowledge, to produce potions. The process involved a large amount of trial and error to find workable formula, and while it wasn¡¯t their first option, they did use unwilling human test subjects before finalizing their discoveries. Additionally, they employed a military contractor for both bodyguards and wet work, using a portion of their potion supply to enhance a small group of soldiers to be mentally pliant and physically deadly. Ideologically, the Guild of Alchemists was rather splintered. Some of their members were invested in research and building a utopian future, while others were motivated by wealth and luxury, and at least one was a double agent. At some point, it is known that they were contracted by the CIA (or another group posing as the CIA) to develop an infiltration potion, which they eventually declared as a failure. Their failure became the anti-depression potion, which they sold a number of before being stopped, as that potion was killing and replacing the user. The Order had multiple simple dealings with the Alchemists to purchase their works, before discovering the effects of the anti-depression potion. After that, there were attempts at negotiation, which led to internal fracturing in the Guild. The last interaction the Order had with the group was to accept a formal surrender, which included seizure of assets, and a commitment to rehabilitation. Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack : Membership : Minimum 15 Location : Unknown Status : Active Details : Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack is a mercenary group known to take contracts for targeted murder, as well as long term defensive support. Despite this, they appear to cause minimal collateral damage, and as a result, are very hard to track down. Their exact protocols aren¡¯t known, but what is clear is that they use seed rounds to constantly purge their own non-critical memories, and this appears to be intentional. Possibly an addiction. Their membership as a result cannot be trusted to be the same people from encounter to encounter. They are heavily armed, including having ownership of at least one attack helicopter. Also in their possession is at least one spatial swap teleporter, and an unknown number of other magics. Ideologically, the Wolfpack appears to be convinced that their violent action is needed in order to kill the world¡¯s monsters. How they define a monster is unclear, but conversation with Harlan has made it clear that they put themselves on the list, even if they are at the bottom. A known concern is what they refer to as ¡®red-lining¡¯, where members of the Wolfpack dump too many memories and begin to lose group cohesion and loyalty. Ideological drift at an accelerated rated. This has been observed once. The Order has encountered Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack multiple times, mostly on neutral terms. Priority Earth : Membership : 28 Location : Alaskan wilderness Status : Active Details : Priority Earth were an environmentalist group with an apparent focus on using dungeontech in targeted strikes to achieve their goals of ecological protection. Priority Earth are currently a paramilitary group with an unknown core ideology but who definitely have a habit of collateral damage and overt violence. It is unknown what caused the change in their operations, but it is known that at some point, a large portion of Priority Earth¡¯s membership purged their own ranks. It is possibly a coincidence, but this change removed all women from their ranks. Priority Earth¡¯s previous methods included deploying biological semi-infomorphic plant life in order to disrupt coal burning power plants. It seems like this was a first attempt at the tactic, and the effectiveness was surprising even to them. Their attacks caused a complete shutdown, and the generation of a subtle and potent memeplex in the area, but notably no actual loss of life. Their current methods include car bombs and snipers used to eliminate financial advisors and investors. This action is often masked by messages about stopping the global flow of oil, but that is either a lie, or they are very stupid, because their targets were often unaffiliated with the oil industry in any way. Priority Earth currently employs a division of Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack in a defensive and training role. Investigation into this group is ongoing. _____ Known Magic Types This list, as many of these lists are, is not comprehensive. There are a number of different systems of magic that the Order has access to, and there are also a number of forms of magic that are very, very difficult to categorize. This is simply a broad overview of most of what we have available. Entries are sorted by their source, dungeon or otherwise. Lists of specific available spells or items that are in common use can be found in their own sections below, not in this list. Officium Mundi : Yellow Orbs - The most common form of magic and the origin of the Order. A yellow orb can be broken (cracked or popped, in the vernacular) to add a skill to the user¡¯s mind. This knowledge does not mix with normal memories, unless actively used. It can, however, be shared across skulljack links, and yellow orb skills survive at least two known forms of memory loss. These orbs can also be absorbed to provide ¡®uptime¡¯, during which the condition of the body will not change unless acted upon by an outside force. This can be used to stave off otherwise fatal injures until help can be found, or to simply avoid needing to eat, sleep, and breathe for a while. Additionally, yellow orbs are the source of most dungeon life, and can be used to create new life from inanimate objects. Note : yellow life, once created, follows the guidelines of what has come before. As an example, after Pendragon¡¯s creation, creatures that are similar enough to a paper drake tend to shift and grow along the same path. Blue Orbs - Dropped from broken dungeontech, blue orbs can be broken to solve a problem. Most of them also provide a skill rank as well. The problem solved is consistent in copied orbs, but if the ¡®normal¡¯ problem is unavailable, they will shift along predictable lines until they find something to change. Blue orbs can be absorbed for limited-cast spells, often ones that are linguistically abstract, and always ones cause organ and nerve damage with repeated use. They can also be infused along with yellow orbs into mundane objects to create dungeontech. Orange Orbs - When cracked, they provide legal licenses and permits, which are inserted into government systems seamlessly and without suspicion. Absorbed, they add repeating tasks that spawn various materials upon completion. And they can be crafted into ¡®totems¡¯ that create predictable spatial warps. This is considered the most valuable use case of an orange orb, as it allows for mass replication of usable spaces. Green Orbs - When cracked, enhances a space. Smaller orbs stop at improving a single room, while larger ones can improve buildings, or potentially larger zones. The larger a space a green orb is affecting, the more ¡®stretched¡¯ the bonus is. Similar to yellow orbs, using copies in the same place leads to diminishing returns. Green totems appear to be exclusion fields, though research is ongoing. Absorbing greens or making life with them is banned, due to the risk of mental control from Officium Mundi. Purple Orbs - When cracked, improves the body one is currently using. In the fringe case where multiple people are acting as a hive mind or gestalt using the skulljacks, the purple orb will treat the complete person as one body; meaning that the effect will vanish when they are not connected, and reappear when they are. Purple orbs can be used to create infomorphic life in the form of mental compulsions. Referred to as ¡®assignments¡¯, these compulsions have the capacity to grow into thinking people, provided they are supplied with food and attention, much like a human child. Red Orbs - Dropped by disarmed traps in the dungeon, red orbs provide emotional resonance when cracked. This does not change a person¡¯s emotional state, instead it allows for better complex processing of the associated emotions, leading to better self-control, and an internal sense of growing maturity. Absorbing red orbs grants limited use spells that scry hyper-specific pieces of information from targets. Much like blue orbs, using these causes headaches and eventual organ damage. Red orbs can also be crafted into totems that broadcast single pieces of information to every mind within their range. Rituals, Various - A number of the cubicle towers in Officium Mundi contain overhead projectors which are the focal points for different expressions of ritual magic. By tracing a design in specific dungeon-made coffee grounds, and activating the projector, an effect is applied to the objects on its surface. So far, rituals have been discovered for duplicating, upgrading, and emailing the contents of the target zone. Skulljacks - Less a specific magic, but still from the Office, skulljacks are an organic cybernetic that allows for mind-to-machine or mind-to-mind interface. They take standard Ethernet cables, and have a litany of specific corner cases in how they are used. The majority of useful applications are enabled through custom made/grown programs, and personal wi-fi hotspots. Enchanted Items - Commonly called dungeontech, the Office is one of the only places that consistently produces items with their own intrinsic supernatural properties. It seems to be limited to items that are common to offices, or at least possible to show up in one. Though the effects are not required to be ¡®thematic¡¯ to the items themselves, closer matches are more common. Unnatural forms of mobility are common - moving too fast, through certain things, or being restricted in a way that could be useful - as are objects that convert one thing into another, and objects that enhance perception. Also, the dungeon clearly has a grasp of writing, as a large number of these items are pens that alter how they write, or paper objects that do something specific with what is written on them. There are also enchanted programs on the various computers in the dungeon, which appear to operate like normal apps with the exception that they cannot be copied. All enchanted items break if they sustain damage, dissolving away and leaving a blue orb behind. Enhancement Coffee - A number of the magic items discovered in Officium Mundi are coffee machines that produce coffee which improves the function of the body in one way or another. There are three of these in the Order¡¯s possession currently, which can improve reflexes, speaking ability, or decision making respectively. The coffee effect lasts for about five minutes per cup, and is at its best if the coffee is still hot. Cold coffee, including intentionally iced coffee, has the opposite effect. Drinking too much of any given kind of coffee will cause unconsciousness, and sometimes memory loss. Akashic Sewer: Lesson Books - Each Akashic Sewer lesson takes the form of an academic subject, often one that is common at the high school level. Lessons have a target number for things learned, and when reached, the bearer is offered a choice of one out of three different aspects of their self to improve. Lessons do repeat fairly often, despite the books they come from not looking similar or having anything to do with the lessons they start, and each lesson always offers the same three aspects. Measuring the effects of an aspect is difficult, but it is safe to say that they represent an improvement of between 50-200% in their specific field. Lessons have a specific interaction with being duplicated: individuals who have used copies of the same lesson book are referred to as a ¡®class¡¯, and in order for progress to be made, the entire class must learn the same facts. If four out of five people all learn something, but the fifth person does not, then it will not count toward the lesson¡¯s progress. Orbs (and crystals, though this is less relevant) that provide skill ranks do count toward lessons, often in very large bursts. Copied orbs will always provide the same knowledge, and so can be used to accelerate a class in unison. The amount of piece of information required to advance a lesson increases at a set rate, but that rate jumps significantly the more different lessons a person has active, and decreases if the initial book is ¡®read¡¯ while under the effects of a literacy potion. Symbiotes - Earned by opening ¡®eggs¡¯ with purple sparks, which are themselves gained by completing physical trials within the Sewer, there is limited knowledge of what symbiotes can fully do at this point. Currently, it is suspected that they feed on certain emotions, feeding back strength to their host. Testing is in progress, it is not advised that anyone acquire new symbiotes until more can be learned. Shaper Substances - Not technically a reward, this fluid is produced by the dungeon and can be harvested carefully. When applied to organic life, it allows a reshaping of the body. This process can be guided, and is easier the more one knows about their own body, but it requires focus and is extremely painful. The shaper substance will fill in any gaps in biological knowledge with processes that technically work, but also cause long term chronic pain. Repeated uses have a higher and higher risk of permanent chronic pain as well. Do not use without professional medical aid. Consultations are available. Clutter Ascent : Relationstick - When two individuals break one of these carved wooden dowels between them, it opens a potential link. If they experience a shared emotional moment from the same general stimulus, that link is filled, giving the two the ability to pass an aspect between themselves as long as they are within range. The emotion that fills the link does not matter, the range and shared aspect appear to be determined randomly, and copied relationsticks do not share traits. Sharable aspects include everything from rest to strength to patience, and can include esoteric magical traits such as the Climb¡¯s Breath mana pool, but only if both parties already have it. The connection is two way, and there is no way to resist the trait being pushed or pulled by the other party, so it is advised you never, ever, use one of these with someone you do not trust. Book - An enhancement to the relationsticks, only one has ever been found. It allows the connections to bridge between whoever is ¡®reading¡¯ the book at the time. Meaning, if person A and person B both share something with the reader, then they can now share that thing with each other as well, though at a loss and not with perfect efficiency. This book is a key part of allowing Order knights and paladins to punch above their weight class in combat situations, by focusing the combined strengths of thirty or more people into a single individual. The book seems to resist copying, as this sentence has been typed multiple times, and then deleted, and forgotten. It is suspected this is for our own protection, as it is only when that benevolent intent is acknowledged that the information sticks at all. Winter¡¯s Climb - Breath Magic : The magic of Winter¡¯s Climb comes in two parts. It is also unique in that an individual must be an active delver to use it. The first part is the Breath mana pool, and the number of available spell slots, both of which are gained through climbing higher in the dungeon. Every thirty feet of upward progress provides an additional point of Breath, every thousand feet provides a spell slot. If you return to the Climb additional times, your Breath capacity will only ever be evaluated based on your highest single delve, and any gains are only applied upon leaving. The second part is the spellbooks. Mostly manifesting as textbooks, Climb spells are unique in that learning them does not consume the book. This allows for incredibly consistent applications of magic without the need for uses of the duplication ritual, which frees up more coffee for things like cancer cures. Breath is a finicky source of power. If you are below your capacity, your body will slowly build up Breath by sapping oxygen and warmth from each breath you take until the mana source is full. Casting a spell consumes Breath, and comes with another associated burst of cold and oxygen deprivation. The cold is not metaphorical or imagined, it is a direct reduction in the temperature around you. Climb spells with higher costs are either impossible to use without killing yourself, or require a medical professional on hand. Oxygenation potions, breathing masks, heat packs, and other sources both magical and mundane, can alleviate the symptoms. If someone does not breathe, such as by absorbing a yellow orb, they will not generate Breath. Spellbooks that are more damaged appear to have higher costs or lessened effects, relative to what would be expected. Sources of repair for the spellbooks are being investigated. Route Horizon : Velocity Magic - Again a magic in two parts. The first part is that there are artifacts discoverable within the Route that appear as gears of varying size and complexity. They are all instantly identifiable as sources of magic, and can be absorbed with focus. Doing so unlocks Velocity, which appears to be physically stored just above the heart. Velocity builds based on your relative speed, and the percentage of control you have over that speed. E.g., being a driver gives you 100% of the normal amount, being a passenger reduces that to 50%, being a passenger who is messing with the radio raises it back to 55% for reasons unknown. As your active store of Velocity increases, the amount of speed required to continue to raise it at the same rate increases. Driving at 60 MPH will bring you to 1 Velocity every five seconds, but will take twenty more seconds to raise to 2 Velocity, and a minute after that to raise to 3. As the size of a potential reserve increases, the amount of sustained speed needed goes up, though in general it is safe to assume that more and faster movement that you are in control of will generate more and faster Velocity. The other half is the spells themselves. Within Route Horizon, scraps of various maps can be discovered. If any two pieces of map can be successfully overlapped, it will add that to a person¡¯s internal globe in the form of a specific spell. The name, function, and const of the spell are instantly known, and the map scraps are consumed. Spells consume Velocity to activate, sometimes a cost over time. Many of them are focused around the operation of motor vechiles. Map scraps can be copied with no ill effects, and their relatively small volume makes this an excellent way to add a repeatable tool to the Order¡¯s arsenal. Gears can also be copied, but individuals cannot absorb more than one or two copies of each specific gear. Gas - Route Horizon has gas stations that often have active pumps. Two forms of gas are known, one that heals whatever vehicle it is put in, and one that prevents injury or death to the occupants of whatever vehicle it is put in. ¡®Vehicle¡¯ is a loose definition, but the bare minimum is that a combustion engine that is capable of operating at least one attached mechanical component is required. For the repair gas, it will actively regrow missing parts, but only up to the quality of what was once there. Regrown parts are more organic than mundane counterparts, but function just as well. Ceaseless Stacks Yellow Orbs - Appearing almost identical to the Officium Mundi yellow orbs, this variety does not provide knowledge of a skill. Instead, when broken, these orbs permanently improve how well the user learns about, and possibly works with, a specific animal species. Measured with Officium Mundi skill ranks, the improvement is 30%, but that is not a useful way to measure hands on skill with an animal. It does appear to improve the creation of potions that use animal components, however. These orbs can also be absorbed in a manner that is identical to the Office yellows, though it provides a different sensation with the same effect. Blue Orbs - Again appearing identical, but with a wildly different effect. These blue orbs do exactly what the Stacks yellow orbs do, but for flora and not fauna. No other effects are known. Green Orbs - Identical in form, but for materials instead of flora or fauna. Still unclear how much this improves the ability to work with a given substance, but it does definitely improve learning speed in regards to crafts that use the material. Purple Orbs - Same look, same trend, these ones improve the speed of learning with a type of tool. Unlike the others, this orb type directly acknowledges humanity and its influence by focusing on human made devices. Sometimes very, very specific devices. Living Ink - Throughout the Stacks, small moving words in various languages can be found on surfaces. Speaking them in any other language, I.E., provin you can translate them, will cause them to move to your body as a still-moving tattoo. So far, there is one known use for these words, which is to use them to produce a specific Library type of magic item at a ritual torus. Logos Statues - Created from a combination of different living ink, and the syntax of a ritual book, these statues have a unique effect on the world around them one used. Activating them requires focusing on activating them while in physical contact - clothing does block this, at which point the statue will crack, and likely shatter. Once any piece breaks off, they cannot be reused, and it appears to be random how much force is applied. The effect from each statue depends on what ¡®sentence¡¯ was used in its creation, but they all share one thing in common; their effect expands to fill an area of space, and lingers there for roughly an hour. As with green orbs (Office), the range seems contextual, and the effects can often be hard to notice. A full list of available statue effects can be found below. Stratified Underburbs Enchanted Items - Known to exist, but currently only one is in the Order¡¯s possession. Distinct from the next section. A higher general threshold for damage than blue orb items, but still break easier and drop skill crystals. Enchanted Furniture - The second type of dungeontech from the Underburbs, every piece of enchanted furniture seems to have a variable effect, but those effects are ¡®charged¡¯ by by being actively used as furniture, and often spread to the room they are part of. For some of the more direct effects, such as the couch that translates intent, they don¡¯t even need to be part of a room at all to work. But all of them benefit from being worked into actively used spaces. They also drop skill crystals when destroyed. Skill Crystals - In the Underburbs, killing, surviving diseases, and witnessing certain things generates skill points for the delver. These points do not appear to be fungible, but can be spent on skill crystals to provide skill ranks. Each crystal provides the same skill each use, different people can split the cost (only the last point added grants the benefit), and there are no diminishing returns. These skill ranks otherwise function identically to Officium Mundi yellow orbs. Unknown Utah Dungeon Only a few pieces of this dungeon¡¯s magic were found, left behind by what appears to be a multi-generational delver family before their disappearance. It comes in two forms, the smaller of which is copyable. Spell Slot Coins - When used, grant empty spell slots at level 1 or 2 for the two different styles of coin. There is no diminishing returns, and no apparent limit to how many slots a person could have. Spellbooks - Requiring that a user ¡®study¡¯ them for a set amount of time, doing so will fill a spell slot with the associated magic. All three books in the Order¡¯s possession are level 1, making the level 2 slot redundant. If a spell is studied for longer than its base time, every cycle will add a + to the specific spell, and improve the effect, with no currently known cap. Unknown Internet Dungeon Resistance Programs - Discovered by two different individuals who are no longer with us, and possibly kept secret via memeplex or digital memory attack, it is known that there is something on the internet, somewhere, that can produce resistance programs. Created in the form of a piece of hardware with a program stored on it, the program cannot be moved and so the hardware must be properly loaded to run it. Each one gives a percentage boost to immunity against a certain thing. With duplication, 100% immunity is theoretically possible, but testing has been suspended after injuries sustained during controlled variable tests. Whoever has last run the programs is the one who the immunity is bestowed on, though because each program takes time to launch and begin running, hot-swapping during crisis situations is not advised. Alchemy Confiscated from the Guild of Alchemists following their surrender, the Tree of Knowledge produces a single fruit every day. The gooey insides of this fruit - colloquially called sap - can be mixed with essentially anything to produce a unique magical effect based on the ingredients, production method, time of day, and potentially other factors as well. Most of these effects are, if not lethal to the drinker, at least not very healthy. With extensive testing, it is possible to discover combinations that are beneficial, and refine known recipes to something useful. A single fruit is capable of producing between one and twenty doses of a given potion, depending on what effect is being sought. This rate is rather low given that the tree only produces one fruit a day, and there does not appear to be a way to grow more trees. The tree is also too large to copy. Currently, the Order of Endless Rooms has six hundred and fifty copies of the ceramic pot that grows anything planted in it into a succulent. For certain potions, especially ones that can spoil, it is efficient to grow the potions directly. In this case, they end up being like an aloe plant, and require a little more than the standard dose, but they do still work. More importantly, though, is that each of these plants can grow more of the sap needed to continue experimentation and mass production. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. A full list of potions in active use is below. A full archive of known effects is not part of this document. Statuses Quos Leveling Items - These objects have discrete abilities with predictable effects attached to them. The abilities have a level, a cooldown timer, a number of charges they can store, and a number of uses between advancing in level. At certain thresholds of level, the items unlock new abilities, always in a predictable pattern. The original Status Quo versions of these objects were created via blood sacrifice, in a manner that permanently drained the victims of a number of things that could be best summed up as ¡®life force¡¯. That method (destroyed) when used with the blood of active dungeon delvers, produced items that started at higher levels and often with extra bonuses to their effects. It also produced items that took far more uses to level up than otherwise required. The Order of Endless Rooms produces more of these items by copying ritual. As unlike most other magic items, levelers seem more durable and not less, and given their constant improvement, these will make excellent legacy tools for the future. However, items created with the copying ritual come out different. They all start with a single ability at level one, which makes some of them outright useless for a long time. The associated lower number of uses to level up means that they will accelerate faster into more and more useful items. Leveling items can also be imbued with a blue orb. Unlike the normal form of this process, it instead adds a single new discrete ability, in the format of the item. This ability can also level up, and may have synergistic unlocked abilities of its own. This process makes the item susceptible to dissolution just like any other blue item. While the durability of the leveling item still applies, any damage that gets through can destroy it. Many items lower their own cooldown upon leveling up, and those that do tend to have a theoretical point in the future where the next level will take less time, not more. They also have a theoretical point where the cooldown will be zero. Undeath Pills - If taken within three minutes of death, undoes the death and restores the body to optimal condition within the last six minutes. A finite number of these are on hand, as they do not copy. To date, only three other things have failed to work in the copy ritual; two of them were dungeon artifacts that simply locked up the process and wouldn¡¯t let the ritual begin, and one that simply failed to arrive at the end of the ritual, the potion that spawned a new inhabitor. A process that killed the previous user of the body. Given that similarity to the undeath pills, we¡¯d like to say that using them should be a last resort. But then, that does seem to sort of be the point. Cooking Spell - The last Status Quo had in their possession a modified communications satellite, and the means to track it. That satellite acted as the focus point for a simple ritual spell that cooked food. The spell does not work without an active component from someone with the proper personal magic. That component of the ritual was performed before the elimination of Status Quo, which means the satellite is ¡®loaded¡¯, and all that is required to fire it is to plant certain targeting points on the ground around where we want it focused, and then speak the command words. The estimated radius of the spell, fired from orbit, is three miles from the point of focus. The spell lasts four minutes, or until dismissed, which is ample time for the majority of food in its radius to combust. Harlan¡¯s Wolfpack - Seed Rounds - 9mm bullets that can eat a memory from anyone holding them. Doing so imbues the bullet with a dangerous quality based on the memory, and also causes it to create more empty seed rounds if it kills something. Memories used this way cannot be recovered by infomorphs, and in fact, knights who have informorph companions should never use these, as doing so will hurt anyone living in your head. It is possible to retrieve copies of memories made with a skulljack, but you cannot then feed the copy into a new seed round. Possibly because it doesn¡¯t count as ¡®yours¡¯ anymore. Logisticors - An interlocking set of brass gears that requires an electrical current to charge up, and then a method of coordinate selection to activate. This can be done manually, by manipulating the different gears, or by feeding it a GPS or navigator heart. Once activated, a logisticor creates a thirty meter diameter bubble with itself as the focus, and transposes it with a similar bubble at the target destination. Previously, it was thought that the logisticor bubble could be offset from the item, but testing has shown that this was a side effect of active orange totems, and is not safe to repeat. The bubble takes time to fully slide into place, moves slower through matter than open air, and is not safe to move through before it is complete. Once the bubble closes, the two points in space have been swapped, and there is no further active effect. Highly useful for cargo transport, and as the logisticors are small enough to duplicate, multiple copies have been produced with the intent to revolutionize the global shipping industry. _____ Blue Orbs (Officium Mundi) : Due to the demand for use of the copier ritual, the vast majority of orbs are not saved for permanent use in the rotation. While every skill rank or absorbed power could be a life saver, the unfortunate fact is that every orb we copy is measured against another person saved from cancer, and that¡¯s a hard thing to ask. For testing, most orbs are duplicated once, sometimes twice. Members of the Order who enjoy rolling the dice can get twice as many orbs with their stipend if they choose untested yellows and blues, provided they submit their results. Some orbs, though, are simply too valuable to not keep a small stockpile of. Especially when it comes to blues, purples, and greens; though most of the truly powerful green orbs are too large to be copied. Yellow and purple orb lists are too long to add, so this is only a list of blue orbs, due to their active effects being the most impactful tools. Blue orbs are listed with their effects if cracked / absorbed Fix Tire / Manipulate Asphalt Charges : 14 Function : Allows moving and shaping asphalt. As with most blues, concentration improves the detail available, but even without that, a large amount of brute force is available on demand. Clean Wallet / Separate Alloy Charges : 9 Function : Splits an alloyed metal into its component ingredients with an almost perfect purity. Will always attempt to ¡®pull¡¯ the smaller components out of the larger mass. Remember Appointment / Create Plan Charges : 13 Function : Adds a short term tactical plan to the minds of anyone you are working with. The plan appears to be able to go out to three steps of action, you must have at least an idea of a plan first, so the name is actually a misnomer, and there is no feedback on whether anyone is following the plan outside of mundane communication. Note : This is actually a size three blue, and is one of the only ones we¡¯ve ever found. Absorbing it is barely possible even for the people who are good at that, and using it causes at minimum headaches and nosebleeds. Use with caution. Replace Light / Break Electronic Charges : 7 Effect : Breaks a targeted electronic device. Device does not need to be on. If nothing is targeted, it will find an electronic device. Range unclear. Fix Ripped Socks / Refit Charges : 12 Effect : Shapes a piece of clothing or armor to fit the chosen person. Does not work on most animals, does not add or remove material. Does work on SQ items, retaining their magic and making them easily usable by camracondas or people with big arms. Undo Purchase / Move Person Charges : 10 Effects : Moves someone, including the user. There is a safe limit to how far it can go, with that limit coming faster if you are moving someone else, moving someone unwilling, or moving through barriers or doors. The move is effectively a short range teleport, and does not actually cross the intervening space. Taxes Filed / Repair Glass Charges : 22 Effects : Restores glass to any previous configuration. Can be used to fix windows or lightbulbs, but with enough exertion, can also turn glass molten again assuming it ever was. Works on plexiglass for some reason. Shoes Cleaned / Collect Moisture Charges : 6 Effects : Pulls moisture toward a point. Not actually useful in most conflict situations, but incredibly valuable for fixing water damage in damaged structures. Excluding people from the effect actually makes using it easier. Leveling Items : The following list is format as follows : Unlock condition, uses to level (increase per level), recharge time (improvement per level), maximum stored charges (increase per level). All numbers are for Order-made copies, unless one is unavailable. Order copies of SQ items start with only one ability at level 1. They also appear to improve faster, requiring fewer uses, but this takes time when low-level recharge times are high. We have stopped tracking the highest known level on this list, as it is not relevant, but usually that would be on one of the original blood items. Each leveling item can also be imbued with a single blue orb effect, which adds an additional ability. The same ability will always be applied for each item, no matter who performs the enchantment. Those abilities are marked. Bracer (Colloquially, shield bracer) -Stockpile ¡°Bladed Weapon Impact¡± : Always Available 100 (+300), 12 Hours (-30 Minutes), 10 (+5) Creates a highly visible dome of light in a grid that negates the energy of an incoming attack of the set type. Bladed weapons by default. At Level 8, unlocks the ability to toggle this to be automatic. -Battlefield Alteration : Unlocks at Stockpile Level 3 500 (+50), 4 Hours (-10 Minutes), 5 (+1) Changes the designated attack for Stockpile. Attacks must be things that have passed within the range of the bracer to have blocked, and are occasionally asyncronatic with each other (You can select ¡®car¡¯, but not ¡®bullet¡¯, you must select individual caliber of bullet. Selecting ¡®gun¡¯ will stop being physically struck with a gun, not being shot.) At level 3, unlocks the ability to toggle this to be automatic -Fake Stockpile : Unlocked via blue imbuement 75 (?) 6 Days (?), 2 (?) Confirming that the shield bracers actually are making a record of the things that they block with the Stockpile effect, this allows the wielder to project an illusory version of anything that has been previously blocked. Visual only, range of ten feet, has visual distortion problems with larger things like ¡®vehicle impact¡¯. Uses whatever is currently set as the stockpile. Greave -Knight¡¯s Stance : Always available 500 (+300), -/-, -/- While wearing the greave, the wearer experiences a passive correction to their stance to prevent tripping, being off balance, or out of position. This correction appears to cap out at half a degree or one millimeter of shift for each level. Also somewhat uniquely, this power does not use charges, and continues to level up as it is worn, equating to what appears to be one point per hour worn. -Armorer Vault : Unlocks at Knight¡¯s Stance 20 200 (+100), 4 Hours (-10 Minutes), 10 (+5) When triggered, manipulates the body into a strike using the greave as the intended impact point, generating a set amount of force regardless of the strength of the wearer. Can target any point up to three meters away, and the effects of the motion will not cause physical harm to the wearer. The impact can still cause pain or injury. -Snap Descent : Unlocked via blue imbuement 100 (+200), 8 Hours (-8 Minutes), 15 (+1) Accelerates the wearer into the ground, assuming they are not in contact with the ground. Acceleration is equal to .3 g¡¯s per level, with the force being kept from injuring the wearer, but not anything on their person. Roughly half the force of the final impact is also buffered against. Bracelet Note : Due to the incredibly long times new copies take to unlock new abilities, copies of bracelets are low priority and mostly ¡®dead¡¯ for at least the next five years unless something can be found to accelerate the process. Estimates for Order-made copies, including suspected unlock thresholds, have been removed, as every version in use has its own unique enhanced stats. -Bind Firearm : Always available 10 (?), 250 days (?), 1 (?) Connect the bracelet to a discrete projectile weapon, allowing use of further abilities. Weapon must use some form of explosive propellant, with any other conditions unknown. -Cluster Shot : Fires three rounds from the bound weapon simultaneously. Uses loaded ammunition, and fired rounds ¡®shunt¡¯ each other away from overlapping in space after fired, but generally hit the same target within ~1 inch. Certain level thresholds add one to the cluster. -Munitions Dump : Fully reloads the magazine of the bound weapon with the most common last loaded munition. Material appears to be created from nothing, but will not duplicate anything below an arbitrary quality. Eventually unlocks the ability to toggle this to activate automatically when ammunition is depleted. -Friendly Fire : Causes the next shot made with the weapon to be physically incapable of interacting with anyone thought of as friendly, or a noncombatant. This includes for potentially useful or nonlethal means (pushing someone, e.g.,) -Bind Arbalest : Unlocked through blue imbuement 10 (?), 2 Years (?), 1 (?) Binds a bracelet to a projectile weapon that uses purely mechanical force to fire. Tested with a bracelet that had lost its bound gun, so it is still unknown if you can have two weapons bound at once. Doesn¡¯t synergize with cluster shot unless there is actually a way for multiple shots to be loaded, does work with munitions dump with no changes. Glove (Left) Note : Melt Iron and Annihilate Bone have not been unlocked on copied versions, and so their estimate stats are omitted. -Break Wood : Always Available 100 (+100), 2 Days (-20 Minutes), 5 (+2) When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is wood. If it is, the applied force is magnified, with none of the extra force affecting anything that isn¡¯t the wood contacted. -Shatter Stone : Unlocked at Break Wood Level 5 100 (+100), 2 Days (-20 Minutes), 5 (+2) When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is stone. If it is, the applied force is magnified, with none of the extra force affecting anything that isn¡¯t the stone contacted. Applied force is focused in a way that makes it likely for the stone to break into small pieces at high speed. -Melt Iron : When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is iron (including primary iron alloys such as steel). If it is, the applied force is highly magnified and converted to heat, with none of the heat affecting anything that isn¡¯t the iron contacted. Heat is self-sustaining for one second per level. -Annihilate Bone When triggered, checks if the next object the glove comes into contact with is bone. If it is, one ounce per level of bone is removed. From existence. -Evoke Quill : Unlocked by blue imbuement 50 (+150), 12 hours (-15 Minutes), 10 (+2) Used while holding a writing implement, can create a written message as if sourced from that implement on any surface at a range of 10 feet plus 1 foot pre level. Tests show this doesn¡¯t deplete ink from pens, or require a literal quill. If using something like a pencil that would commonly break when trying to write on brick, the message just won¡¯t show up, or will only get through a letter or two. Maximum message length is twenty characters, always at size 10 font. At level 2, adds the ability to write a single pictograph instead of characters. Brooch -Purify Food : Always Available 20 (+20), 2 Days (-2 Hours), 10 (+10) When triggered, removes contaminants including harmful microbes from target amount of food. The range for this one is weird, but seems to follow the rule that it easily scales up in size if you¡¯re hitting the same type of thing. For example, you could purify a hundred pounds of lettuce, but only twenty pounds of mixed salad, and half that if you add chicken. Additionally, this works on water, and will purify up to 14,000 gallons of water with a single charge. -Bind Processor : Unlocks at Purify Food Level 10 5 (+5), 60 Days (-2 Days), 1 (+1) Binds the brooch to a processor. Specifically, any machine that uses an external power source to modify food inside of themselves in some way. Blenders, ovens, mixers, all valid options. The binding does nothing on its own. -Extract Potassium 50 (?), 3 days (?), 4 (?) When used and directed at food specifically, removes all potassium from that food and deposits it in a pile on the nearest flat surface. If Bind Processor is available, can be set to automatically work on any food run through the processor, which reduces the cooldown by ~25%. Hair Pin -Index Documents : Always Available 20 (+30), 20 Hours (-22 Minutes), 10 (+3) Organizes a set of up to 3+level documents into the most efficient pattern, first based on existing organizational systems, and if those are not available, then on the mindset of the user. A ¡°document¡± can include multiple pages or pieces of similar media, but if used on a single document, it will sort the pages. -Complete Document : Unlocked at Index Document 5 10 (+10), 14 Days (-40 Minutes), 3 (+1) Fills out a document with missing information, using all available information the user has access to. Will not editorialize. Earring Note : Optical Invisibility and Perfected strike have had their estimates removed. -Avoid Hostility : Always Available 300 (+200), 3 days (-15 minutes), 4 (+1) When activated, the wearer appears to become more difficult to detect by anyone who means them legitimate harm, and harder to target. This obfuscation of targeting seems to be increased with the ability level, and extends to both mundane and magical effects, including both aiming at with a firearm or acquiring personal information with a red totem. The effect lasts roughly five minutes per level of the power. At some level, this unlocks the ability to be set to automatically activate when needed, though activation is on a hair trigger. -Optical Invisibility: When activated, warps light around the wearer such that they become mostly invisible to the human eye. This only effects light in what is commonly considered the visual range, and can be bypassed by seeing in infrared, microwave, or any of the other common options available to the Order. Lasts 3 minutes plus thirty seconds per level. -Perfected Strike : When activated, the user¡¯s next attempt to strike something will be automatically corrected to maximize the force of impact or the damage done to the target, as well as correcting to be closer to where the user wanted the strike to land. This does not function for any form of strike that does not have continuous contact with the user, such as a gun or a thrown weapon, but it also does not require actual personal violence to trigger and can be used during construction to properly fit lumber cuts. At level 5, this further changes to include a potential causal violation, allowing strikes that could not have hit to make contact, temporarily altering the current position of the user with no drawbacks as long as it is within roughly two inches per level. -Perfect Color Match : Unlocked by blue imbuement 50 (+400), 6 Hours (-35 Minutes), 10 (+1) Changes the color of one worn primary garment to match either another primary garment, or the skin, hair, or eyes of the wearer. ¡°Match¡± in this case means a copy of the color in question, not sartorial pairing. Targets are mentally selected on use, and if left unselected, randomly picked. Cannot change eye, hair, or skin color. Crown Note : The crown is too large to copy, and so the statistics here are for the only iteration in the Order¡¯s possession, not estimates of a theoretical clean version. Due to the risk of destruction, no blue imbuement has been tested on the crown. -Spirit Ignition (Level 5) : Always Available 610 (+480 (+30)), 4 Hours (-3 Minutes), 3 (+.25) At present the Order of Endless Rooms is unaware of what, exactly, the crown¡¯s single ability is actually doing. We can confidently state that the following are effects, but whether they are the purpose is unknown. The list of known interactions and effects the crown produces: Improves ability to focus Adds one charge to absorbed blue spells Adds one point to ongoing Sewer lessons (this does not give associated knowledge, only ups the number) Reduces chronic pain Aids with drawing circles freehand Helps with light or noise sensitivity Helps with generalized anxiety disorder Compacts stored Velocity (Reduces the amount available to be used, but making whatever spell it is used on more potent. This compacted Velocity cannot be intentionally selected or even sensed by the user.) Returns stored Breath (Oxygenates blood, boosts heart rate, clears sinuses, warms skin.) Helps with absorbing yellow or blue orbs Extends duration of active potion effects Increases desire to write or consume poetry In humans and ratroaches, causes the production of pheromones that are highly attractive to : Most species of moth, some species of butterfly, and every ratroach so far. In camracondas, causes the user to smell faintly of cherries. Prevents acne for a period of 1-3 days Improves transfer rate for relationstick aspects In ratroaches, causes the body to purge most stimulants. Winter¡¯s Climb Spells : Climb spells always tell the user the breath cost, and duration, upon learning them, along with an instinct about the general use case. The durations are unreliable, and many spells can accept more Breath than indicated for increased effects. Two things to note. First, you cannot learn the same spell twice, even if you have a better version. Second, the more damaged the textbook is, the worse the spell is. If it wasn¡¯t mentioned before, any information about potential repairs to books should be brought forward immediately. Thermodynamic Tunnel 5 Breath, Permanent Links two points in space in a way so that heat is constantly shifted from one to the other. The tunnel is one way, permanent, and relative to the Earth. Fractal Avalanche 2 Breath, Seconds Splits you into multiple mirrored copies (two to six, at your discretion) of yourself, performing the same physical actions and recombining when the duration expires. Angle and direction can be changed freely across copies. Copies are physical extensions of ¡®you¡¯, and are not individual people, only your own body repeated. Extra breath can be used to extend the time. Iced Veins 1 Breath, Instant Converts cold or frozen water into blood. If used while in contact with a living organism that uses blood, the created substance can be safely made inside the organism. The colder the water used, the more control over the outcome, with ice automatically matching the blood type of the recipient. Mountain Of The Self 10 Breaths, 20 Breath / Second, Instant (Inaccurate) For roughly half a second, nothing can kill you. Inertia still functions, but you cannot be moved by anything you do not wish to move you. Force that comes in contact with you is repulsed directly back at its source, you become completely non-conductive (to anything you do not wish to conduct), and thermally neutral. Invincibility, but only for a moment. Mesa Oasis 8 Breath, Days Converts an addiction or compulsion into an increased thirst. Lasts roughly one week, can be used on others. Reaching Frost 3 Breath, 1 Breath / minute, Sustained Forms a limb out of ice. Ice is created from nothing, and is real. More Breath can be put in to alter the size, strength, and sensitivity of the limb. Cloud Prowler 9 Breath, 2 Breath / hour, Hours Makes a snow cat. Providing snow or ice makes it bigger. Lasts only slightly above an hour, unless Breath is actively provided, but each person¡¯s cat is the same cat every time, and it maintains memory. The cat can¡¯t really fight, it¡¯s just a cute, perfectly normal cat, with one exception. Worldwalker Piton 3 Breath, Seconds Prevents you from tripping, losing traction, or falling for ten seconds. Focused on the feet, so if you have the Breath, you can walk up a wall. Not as useful as it sounds. Frost Vector 5 Breath, Instant Removes friction from between a surface and one object until contact between those objects is lost. ¡®Surface¡¯ has to be something large enough to support standing on by the caster, but the other object can be anything, including anything the caster is wearing. Survival Flare 18 Breath, Seconds Pulls nearby heat into target object within line of sight, cooling the surrounding area and potentially damaging or igniting the target. Builds slowly, but lasts for a few minutes consistently. Do not use on yourself, the spell cannot be dismissed once activated. Process Procession 8 Breath, Seconds Effect : Upon cast, the magic waits for the caster to take an action that could be loosely described as ¡®crafting¡¯, or perhaps ¡®productive¡¯. After the first minute, whatever action was taken is looped six times without the caster being involved. Small deviations like pulling from a depleting supply of materials work without issue. At the end of the loop, Breath can be expended to repeat it another six times without the initial performance. Harvest Echo 22 Breath, Instant Effect : After cast, if a plant or fungus is harvested (usable parts removed, plucked from the stem, uprooted, etc) by the caster, then an exact copy of the target is created out of ice nearby. If ice is already present, then the ice will instead be transformed into an actually organic copy of the target. Effect persists until the magic is used. Altitude Adapt 41 Breath, 1 Breath / 8 Minutes, Sustained Effect : Caster grows wings. The type of wings seem to vary, but are consistent to each caster. Bird and bat wings are the only variants seen so far, but with multiple patterns and colorations. The process of growth is abrupt, violent, and painful to the user, and the breath cost risks lung and brain damage to without careful medical supervision. Dismissing the spell causes the wings to break from the body, but not vanish, and they are made of real meat and bone. The spell appears to aid in flight as well, as these wings allow for gaining altitude when they shouldn¡¯t actually be able to ever do more than permit a controlled glide, but the assistance isn¡¯t strong enough for a takeoff from a standing position. Tautological Necropocentrism 3 Breath, Seconds For two minutes, causes anyone perceiving the caster to contextualize them as dead. The fact that they are walking around and talking does not change that they are thought of as dead. Friends will think of them as having died at the moment the spell was cast, and will experience the emotional impact of that false event. Because the caster is dead, most suspicious activities do not register to anyone perceiving them, because they are dead, and dead people do not do things. Rot Eyes 9 Breath, Instant Effect : Gives the caster knowledge of the location, health, and about one good wiki entry worth of information on every fungus within ~20 feet. Frostwake 2 Breath, Seconds Effect : Accelerates the caster, but only through water, ice, or snow exclusively. If used while in water, the magic massively drops the temperature of the liquid moved through. Can attain speeds of up to 20 MPH over normal personal movement rates, but with the exception of preventing harm from the substance moved through, there is no safety measure built in. Cathedral Sanctum 181 Breath, Permanent Effect : Untested, because that would kill someone outright. From the instinct the spell gives the bearer, it seems like it¡¯s meant to allow for creating some kind of spatial twist inside a structure. Real effect unknown. Flare Calculation 10 Breath, Permanent Effect : Makes a single mathematical process easier for the caster only. This does not change math itself, nor does it actually grant any real skill that can be built on. It just makes it artificially easier to derive answers when using a single specific formula. Unfortunately, it won¡¯t work on broad process descriptors such as ¡°addition¡±. Winter Wroth 4 Breath, Instant Effect : Inflicts a wound as if from a sharp blade at a range of roughly five feet, but only works on living things that aren¡¯t suspicious or acting to defend themselves. Wound can be targeted visually, and is deeper the lower the ambient temperature is. Call To Blood 1 Breath, 3 Breath / Second, Sustained Effect : Despite the grim name, what it actually does is act as a dowsing rod for where a specific person was last injured, and more specifically, bleeding. Categories of person do not work, you must be envisioning a specific individual including their name in order for the spell to take hold. The effect creates a physical pull toward where, geographically, the person was last hurt, and if you move to within five feet and also visual range of the exact site, it will move on to the next most recent spot while continuing to mentally remind you of the last location. Note : The casting of this spell is especially pleasant and nutritious to navigators sharing mind space with the caster. Utah Spells : All three spells in the Order¡¯s possession are level 1. Until that changes, it won¡¯t be noted on the list. Saint¡¯s Wrap Study Time : 8 Minutes Effect : Creates a bath towel Escalation Effect : Makes the towel a higher quality fabric, slightly larger, and softer. Testing has only gone up to 3 escalations so far. Seize Seat Study Time : 14 Minutes Effect : Creates a flat three legged rough wooden stool Escalation Effect : Makes the seat more even, less rough. Testing has only gone to 3 escalations so far. Charm River Transformation Study Time : 5 Minutes Effect : Changes a frog into a bat Escalation Effect : Unknown Important Note : The transformation is not permanent. It also works on the frog-dogs in the Akashic Sewer, and the removal of their frog side seems to break them out of direct control of the dungeon. All Sewer delves are recommended to have at least one use of this ready to go. Logos Statues : The statues created in the Ceaseless Stacks create persistent effects in a zone that are often heavily grounded in the perception of those within the field. Due to the lack of availability and the tendency of these things to break on use, extensive testing is still ongoing. But be aware that we do not come close to knowing all the quirks of this magic. This list is of statues that there are existing copies of only. The testing log is in another document. Tyrant Breaking Tongue Shape : Soapstone lion Effect : Alters the thought patterns of anyone in the zone to see rhetorical or logical attacks on anyone in a position of authority as being more valid than they would otherwise consider. Even after leaving the field, the original opinion on any arguments heard or read will persist. This is an active memetic attack, and infomorphs hosted in a person will be able to perceive the changes, though the ¡®size¡¯ of the attack makes defense very difficult. Beloved Winner Seizes Momentum Shape : Jade cat (sitting) Effect : Causes anyone who an audience within the zone sees as victorious to build up a form of persistent improvement to their actions. Small subconscious changes to personal movements and thoughts, as well as to the environment around a person, cause things to work slightly better for them as long as they are performing the same thing they ¡®won¡¯ at. The size of the audience, and the scale of perceived victory, influence how long the effect lasts and the strength of it. Skirmish Winner Seizes Blades Shape : Sandstone cat (yawning/stretching) Effect : Causes the victor of a fight within the zone to gain the temporary ability to pull weapons from anywhere within the zone to themselves as if they were drawing the weapon from its source. Taking from someone¡¯s hands allows them to resist, but from a pocket, holster, or sheath, it lets the focus of the zone simply draw them out of thin air. The objects do not pass through intervening space to get to the hand, they can just be grabbed and drawn. The only person who needs to witness the victory is a single opponent, and this effect can be engaged during an active fight, such as in the case where someone wins a one-on-one duel while combatants on both sides are still engaged. Zone persists for almost two hours. Broken Winner Seizes Recovery Shape : Cat (unknown purple metal, licking paw) Effect : Heals anyone perceived as victorious based on the size of the audience, and the severity of injuries sustained in the process of attaining victory. Has a larger zone size compared to other tested statues. Not currently in use for combat operations, due to the indiscriminate nature of the effect. Resistance Programs : While the process of actually acquiring these has been lost - perhaps made lost on purpose - the ones we do have work perfectly well and many are easily copyable and can be scaled up with minimal investment. Whether or not given hardware can be copied is noted for each entry. Evidence exists that there used to be at least one more program, but what it was has been lost. This appears to have been a result of a small fire due to dungeontech testing, and not a memetic issue. If anyone has information on any backup copies, please contact Research. Resistance : Venom Percentage : 1% Format : CD-ROM Resource Use : 30MB RAM, low processor use Load Time : 20 seconds Copyable : Yes Resistance : Wood Percentage : 2.5% Format : Zip Drive Resource Use : 8GB RAM, requires at least a mid grade graphics card Load Time : 30 seconds Copyable : Yes Resistance : Hammers Percentage : 1.1% Format : CD-ROM Resource Use : Mid Load Time : 1 Minute Copyable : Yes Resistance : Heat Percentage : .25% Format : Floppy Disk Resource Use : 256KB RAM, negligible processor use Load Time : 1 second Copyable : Yes Resistance : Lightning Percentage : 3% Format : Backup Hard Drive Resource Use : 4GB RAM, low processor load once running Load Time : 3-5 Minutes Copyable : No Resistance : Drowning Percentage : .6% Format : Laserdisc Resource Use : Minimal, fluctuates Load Time : 1-3 Minutes Copyable : No Route Horizon Spells : The first section here is spells that the Order has access to via copy ritual. Because of the tiny footprint of the map pieces, these can be copied very easily, and backups are stored in multiple places. Velocity granting gears take more space, but the smallest available are only slightly larger than a size one yellow orb, and can be requested using a member¡¯s stipend. The second section is an archival record of spells that are known to exist, but that cannot be recreated. According to information from the ex-Horizonists with the Order, it is possible that someone with a Route Horizon spell will manifest a ¡®globe¡¯ on their death, which passes on their Velocity and known spells. But they admit it is not guaranteed, and that there could be an unknown component to the process. Available Spells : -Pave Velocity : 3 Strikes a target within direct sensory range with an impact roughly equivalent to the best punch the caster could throw. -Bones Of Flashing Metal Velocity : 3/minute Exchange bone durability for more speed, or visa versa. This can extend to a vehicle the caster is in control of, and it doesn¡¯t take a very large drain from a car moving at highway speeds to make human bones harder than titanium. On the reverse, though, giving durability for speed is usually an unnoticeable boost unless someone is on foot. -Dial Breach Velocity : 6 Caster takes momentary control over the settings of a sound system within a few hundred feet. Does not allow for generating input. Known Spells : -Maker¡¯s Hand Upon The Wheel (James) Velocity : 1/minute Improves fine control relative to current velocity. This includes both control of a vehicle, and ability to conceptualize details, multitask, and engage in the creative process. -An Eye Of Steel And Glass (Eleanor) Velocity : 4 Provides an instant list of the material inventory of a room, including the ability to internalize the nature of all objects observed, and to conceptualize where a given object is in physical space. Does work outdoors but has a more limited range. Lasts roughly ten seconds. -An Engine Hums Eternal (Eleanor) Velocity : 6 Doubles the current speed of a vehicle the caster is in control of. Reaction time and motor function are temporarily increased if needed to maintain control. Does not stack with itself, but does improve Velocity generation. -The Road Leads Ever Onward (Eleanor) Velocity : 26 Provides clear information on what steps could be taken to ensure continued life of the caster in the near future. If no clear option is present, the spell will begin making small changes to the past in order to facilitate survival. According to El, mental control on the spell can be exerted to extend this to other nearby people, though she says it¡¯s tricky and might not work with anyone else. -Pooled and Paved and Set (Dorothy, ex-Horizonist) Velocity : 5, +1/minute Reduces the material stability of nearby asphalt, while proportionally increasing the stability of designated objects. Vehicles are easiest, but also works on buildings or even living beings. -Siphon (Dorothy, ex-Horizonist) Velocity : 1 Allows simple manipulation of up to a liter of gasoline, oil, or diesel. Manipulation lasts as long as focus does, or until the liquid is ¡®let go¡¯. Escalating costs in velocity can be added to increase the volume moved. -A Citizen Of Travel (Kirk, ex-Horizonist) Velocity : 12 Renders a stretch of an upcoming journey ¡®safe¡¯, in a way that has not been measured, and is possibly paracausal. According to Kirk, it removes possibilities for accidents. Alchemical Potions : This list has been streamlined from its previous form to include only a potion¡¯s main ingredients, relative sap cost, and final effect. Notable potions with known effects but that are not in active use for health reasons are listed in their own section at the bottom. The inhabitor potion has been omitted. Potions are listed in their common use names where they have them. The Guild of Alchemists habit of bad latin is available in the historical archive. -Exercise Potion Ingredients : Wood pulp, water, stick deodorant Sap Cost : Low Effect : A one ounce dose compresses ~36-72 hours of natural at-rest recovery and hypertrophy of the muscular system into a 20 minute span of time. The sensation of recovery is frontloaded, causing relief to feel close to instantaneous, though the effect does continue for the full duration. Only affects muscles, sinew, and cartilage, and only functions on damage self-inflicted through the heuristic of ¡®exercise¡¯. -Oxygenation Potion Ingredients : Hard water, oak or elm sawdust Sap Cost : Low Effect : A one ounce dose causes the blood of the imbiber to remain at an oxygen saturation level of 98% under normal conditions, dropping to an absolute minimum of 87% should the imbiber¡¯s lungs entirely cease and the imbiber be completely submerged in water. This lasts for exactly two hours and one minute, and cannot be extended by drinking additional doses while under the effect. -Reading Potion Ingredients : Milk, shredded dictionary and textbook pages, raspberry syrup Sap Cost : Moderate Effect : A one ounce dose causes a marked improvement in reading speed and comprehension, as well as focus while reading. Effect lasts for forty minutes per dose, and does not appear to have negative side effects for drinking multiple doses at once to extend time. Also causes reduced focus on non-reading topics. -Skin Potion Ingredients : Goat Heart, Water Sap Cost : Moderate -Effect A four ounce dose removes blemishes, unwanted moles, acne, small cuts and scrapes, and visual indications of bruising from skin. A sixteen ounce dose can cause skin that has cracked or been damaged by disease to also recover. Potion encourages tightening of loose skin, leading to reduced wrinkling, especially around eyes, hands, and stomach. Potion also causes others to perceive skin as healthy and attractive, which lasts for one week after imbibing. -Dreamers Draught Ingredients : Espresso, orange juice, gunpowder Sap Cost : High Effect : Creates two doses. The drinkers of each dose will, the next time within forty hours that they enter REM sleep at the same time, find themselves occupying the same dream. This induces a form of lucid dreaming, allowing for communication and interaction. This also partially assists with REM sleep and rest. -Ghost Juice Ingredients : Water from multiple sources, sparrow blood, cane sugar. Sap Cost : High Effect : A one ounce dose confers twenty minutes of effect, and can be stacked indefinitely with minimal side effects. Allows the imbiber to exercise manual control over how corporeal their physical body is, including allowing objects to pass through them without harm, or to move through solid walls without issue. This effect extends to objects the imbiber has been in continuous contact with for at least one hour, such as clothing, but any break in contact loses this ability. -Lung Purifier Ingredients : Unleaded gasoline, powdered tobacco, distilled water Sap Cost : Low Effect : A half ounce dose restores the imbibers lungs to full working capacity, removing scars, blockages, toxins, and cancer. Cannot heal wounds directly, but presuming someone can survive a lung puncture long enough for it to stop bleeding, this potion can then handle recovery. -Sprint Potion Ingredients : Wood pulp, apple, copper Sap Cost : High Effect : A two ounce dose modifies the primary mobility limbs of the drinker to be highly durable, function with fewer resources, and be capable of sustained motion for the next twenty minutes. In fact, not moving quickly causes restlessness and itching. Strengthening of the limbs allows for high speed running (or slithering) for sustained periods without exhaustion. -Posture Potion Ingredients : Sugar, paprika, graphite, water Sap Cost : Low Effect : A four ounce dose causes the drinker to automatically adjust their posture on whatever furniture they resting on for the next day. Adjustments are optimal for preventing muscle or joint damage, and generally reduce pain and cause the user to feel more energetic after sitting or laying for long periods. _____ -Feast Ingredients : Water, citric acid, silver Effect : A one ounce dose alters the metabolism and stomach acid of the imbiber, allowing them to process food at a rapid rate. For the next eighty minutes, anything consumed will be digested thirty times faster than normal, with the body attempting to maximize its nutritional and energy value, while avoiding weight gain, heightened cholesterol or blood sugar, or nausea. -¡®¡¯Hand Grenade¡± Ingredients : Black powder, water Effect A one ounce dose will, for six minutes, cause heightened temperatures across the body, with increases scaled up depending on how hot an area already is. During this period, the body is modified to withstand internal temperatures up to 300f. At a threshold of 220f, any significant impact will cause a detonation on the scale of two pounds of TNT, though with a dramatically increased thermal output. This drains the majority of the heat from the body. This is, almost always, lethal to the imbiber. It is not advised to use this elixir without a way to mitigate the effects of an explosion inside your own body. -Hardening Potion Ingredients : Iron oxide thermite, shredded wheat, water Sap Cost : Moderate Effect : A quarter ounce dose will render the imbiber¡¯s outer layer of skin heavily resistant to impacts for a period of six minutes. It will also reduce the ability to feel strong emotions, and while this can promote clear thought during a crisis, it does not appear to improve logical reasoning skills. The amount of water used can, within certain bounds, increase the potency of both effects. This substance can also be consumed in aerosolized form to prolong the effect as long as it is continually inhaled, though the longer the effect persists, the longer aftereffects will last. Aftereffects include stiff skin, light sensitivity, lack of sensations of taste and touch, and occasional heart failure. -Fertilizer Flask Ingredients : Soil, chocolate, ice Sap Cost : High Effect : Drinker¡¯s skin begins producing a highly potent plant fertilizer. Fertilizer contains unique proteins that accelerate plant growth by a significant margin, but cause serious skin irritation to humans and potential infection in ratroaches. Refinement in progress. -Batch 84-2 Ingredients : Sand, clay, pine needles, grape juice Sap Cost : High Effect : A dose alters the drinker¡¯s body to shatter any glass or quartz they come into contact with. The effect is loud, violent, and dangerous. Refinements in progress. -Batch 67-9 Ingredients : Red wine vinegar, paper, shredded cotton. Sap Cost : Moderate Effect : Drinker¡¯s lungs are altered to process and modify any breathed gasses into carbon monoxide. Modification happens on exhalation, so the first breath in is never lethal, but the sudden presence of a high amount of carbon monoxide is incredibly dangerous, especially without control over the process. Refinements on hold. -Batch 25-4-8 Ingredients : Powdered keratin, calcium, water, algae Sap Cost : Low Effect : A one ounce dose causes the imbiber¡¯s hair, nails, lens ridge, and skulljack clip to become smoothed and opalescent. Active luminescence lasts for twenty minutes, but the smoothing is a permanent change, though it does begin to degrade naturally once the potion effect ends. -Batch 27-1 Ingredients : Calcium, iron shavings, sugar, water Sap Cost : High Effect : A four ounce dose causes the drinker¡¯s saliva to taste like high quality vanilla flavored whipped cream for about an hour. This is not a physical change to the makeup of the saliva, so it does not eliminate any corrosive effects that an individual might possess. Questions And Answers 4 What relationships surprised you the most? Honestly? James and Arrush. I wasn¡¯t actually planning on it, and the thing James goes through of having a kind of sudden realization that he does want to pursue this about mirrors my own experience. Because James hasn¡¯t pursued relationships up to this point; he fell ass backward into something with Anesh and Alanna, and he¡¯s thrilled with it, but he didn¡¯t do that anywhere close to on purpose. Taking a more confident approach, finding someone that he wants to spend more time with to actively see how things develop, that¡¯s new to James, and I find it¡¯s an interesting thing to write. I doubt their relationship will be frictionless, but I¡¯m interesting to see how it turns out. In contrast, relationships that didn¡¯t surprise me include Anesh and Keeka, because Anesh starting to explore his own sexuality was something I had wanted to touch on. Also Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust quietly oopsing into being non-romantic life partners is funny to me. Someone also asked about Morgan, Elizebeth, and Color-Of-Dawn. Their relationship is kinda in the background, but it¡¯s still canonical. I think it¡¯s one of those things where they¡¯re three kids who have spent one of the most formative years of their lives surrounded and influenced by the Order. And James specifically. And so especially with a camraconda constantly asking for cultural justifications, polyamory doesn¡¯t seem that alien or weird to them? They also share the bond of all being some form of Chosen One, which I think will be the kind of pressure that either makes them inseparable, or ruins their shared life. We¡¯ll see. A lot of the relationships in The Daily Grind aren¡¯t planned. I don¡¯t, like, go into a chapter with the narrative intent of making two people smooch. But very often, I write a scene and read back over it and I think to myself ¡°these people are desperately into each other¡± and I¡¯m just not the kind of author who doesn¡¯t act on that. What bit of magic are you most excited to show us? It will come as no surprise that I plan to introduce more dungeons in this book. But I think what I¡¯m actually excited to share is more exploration of the magic the Order already has. There¡¯s so much that they can do with the things they¡¯ve got. Maximizing use and discovering new facets. Stuff like putting the red absorb powers into action, or figuring out what the hypnoplant does. I wanna spend so many words on going over orb tests or the intricacies of a teleport transit network in a way that is probably not narratively needed, but I¡¯m gonna fuckin¡¯ do it anyway because I think we¡¯ve already proven that no one will stop me. Why is Debt still hanging out with DeKay anyway? Debt feels like he owes DeKay a lot, because she took him in and gave him access to a consistent source of structured information, when he otherwise had nothing. If she hadn¡¯t, then JP probably would have still let him grab a ride back to the Order, but Debt doesn¡¯t know that. Even after staying with them for a while, he¡¯s someone who¡¯s grown up in the minds of two people who are suspicious to the level of paranoia about a lot of things for different reasons. So part of it is just that he stays with her because she¡¯s the bad situation he knows, and not a new, riskier situation that might be worse. But also, he has seen James and the others, and how they interact with and accept informophs and physical people alike. And I think he still hopes that DeKay can change. What dungeontech is most likely to be forgotten (discounting the chair that makes you forget it)? Oof. I feel attacked by this one. I¡¯m pretty bad at remembering that the resistance programs exist. Potions are also tricky, since there¡¯s a bunch of them and I like to add to the list in the document chapters and then I kinda forget because characters didn¡¯t ¡°talk¡± about them. There¡¯s also a lot of small dungeontech that¡¯s situationally useful, that I sometimes forget for the situation it would be good in. I suspect that the real answer to this is that there¡¯s something I introduced and then have already forgotten, that someone reading is currently yelling at their screen for me to think of. I¡¯m sorry, the internet doesn¡¯t work that way, you¡¯ll have to leave a comment and tell me. I do remember the upgrade ritual, the phone, every iLipede, the lamp, and most of the logos items. So it¡¯ll have to be something other than that. Are the chanters capable of individuality? Do they have personal favorite foods or songs or something? This one was prefaced with the fact that it might be a bit of a spoiler, but I kinda wanna talk about it anyway, even though there¡¯ll probably be more detail in the next book. Yes, chanters are individuals. They¡¯re just individuals who have had the exact same lives, lacking in meaningful stimuli or much in the way of emotional depth beyond despair. They move in groups because it makes them feel safer, and their method of communication is one that¡¯s inherently communal to a large degree, but they are all still capable of their own personalities. They just need time, space, and a little help to fully come into their own. Even then, though, they¡¯re never going to be able to completely escape the damage that¡¯s been done to them. Which is depressing, and a tragedy. But, like... yes, correct. This is the inevitable result of looking at another person and labeling them as lesser. Human or otherwise, on the scale of whole populations or single individuals, it always ends up like this. Will the potion department be renaming itself Reagents? There are a finite number of fitting words that start with R that the Order¡¯s different branches can be named, and I feel like I can invent new divisions faster than you lot can come up with these. Do the camracondas enjoy any video games? Possibly with the skulljacks? Can they use VR headsets? Because the skulljacks allow for unprecedented control of artificial limbs, and the handful of engineers that are working on arming every camraconda in the building are dedicated to their calling, camracondas are increasingly capable of playing games manually. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Color-Of-Dawn enjoys fighting games, and is better at them than Morgan. Watcher-Of-Birds has a growing fascination with Dark Souls. Ink-And-Key and Paper-And-Words both like obtuse puzzle games and hang out to work through them. Resplendent-Pine-Smoke, Myri, and Knife-In-Fangs play Overwatch together, though the first person in that list does so through a skulljack directly. He¡¯s not the only one, some of the humans in their group do too. Sunrise-In-Clouds also uses a skulljack, and is working through every MMO currently operational to find out which one he likes most. Camracondas can technically use modified VR headsets, and they¡¯re close enough to clothing that the ¡®refit¡¯ blue orb power lets the modifying happen. Without stereoscopic vision, it looks a little weird for them, but they have enough depth perception that they can still make a valiant attempt at playing Beat Saber. Rufus historically has had a problem with communication, but could it be solved with shaper substance? Probably! Rufus is held back by the same thing a lot of people in the Order are; fear that changing himself will mean losing himself. An unhealthy relationship with his own trauma, and the belief that other people need the help more since he can get by without it. He¡¯s wrong. But he has time to learn. If you play a game with a skulljack, how does lag feel? Frustrating, but not actually that much different than when you play with analog controls. Unless you¡¯re using a really bad wireless connection, the lag would be between input and server response, so it would feel basically the same as lag always feels. You¡¯d just know it a lot more sharply. Will James¡¯ polycule eventually expand to consume the entire Order? Nah, probably not. There¡¯s enough people who are in their own closed relationships, or are just aromantic or asexual, that no single polycule could cover everyone. How much of the book itself was planned before you started? I had a few things I wanted to do, and I had a lot of momentum from the end of book three, which I felt was a really good jumping off point. I knew I wanted to do something mean to James, I knew I wanted to do more with Harlan, I knew I wanted to do a lot of deeper looks at some of the dungeons. And I knew that I wanted to listen to James when he said ¡®we need to put our magic into action¡¯. A lot of book four was me finding ways that the Order could reach out and nudge the world into a better shape. They¡¯re not going all-in on that yet, but because of the specific nature of a lot of their dungeon access and magical power, there¡¯s some things they can do almost effortlessly. And if a thing costs nothing, then doing it might feel narratively unfulfilling, but it¡¯s not exactly meant to read that way; a lot of what I wanted for book four was a series of small victory laps where they got to casually fuck around, and find out that they were perfectly capable of fucking around. And I think it came across really well! Will the Daily Grind ever change genres entirely? Becoming something like an apocalypse or isekai story? I have considered either alien invasion or zombie apocalypse. Maybe a nuclear winter? Honestly if I ever do shift genres, it¡¯d probably just be to ¡®coming of age story¡¯, and I¡¯ll write a series of novellas about ratroaches and stuff animals and chanters growing up in the morning twilight of a new age of Earth. Can infomorphs be ¡®put into stasis¡¯ and stored in a written or otherwise recorded format? No, for the same reason a human cannot be stored as a corpse. Part of their life is a process, much like an organic being, and if that process stops, too much is lost that won¡¯t come back even if the process restarts. Does the vending machine have a search feature? No, it¡¯s just a single badly laid out menu, and it thrives on chaos. What¡¯s with all the food in the story? It seems like half the conversations happen over lunch. Two things. One, it give characters some business to do, so I can inject motion into the scene a little. And two, well... I like food. Partly because I¡¯ve worked in a lot of restaurants and enjoy cooking myself, but also because meals were how my friends and I socialized for a lot of our lives. A meal is a great little natural space for a conversation; you¡¯re trapped with someone else, but only until the food is done, and that logical end point takes a lot of pressure off. Food is also just one of those things that I think we often assume we¡¯ll never be surprised by, but there¡¯s just so much of it to explore. Humans can eat some weird stuff, and the idea of getting to share that with new friends who maybe haven¡¯t ever gotten to eat anything is the kind of fun that I write the story to get to. Will any of the fan created dungeons from this last contest make it into the Daily Grind? Probably not exactly as written, but I plan on stealing a bunch of the ideas. I¡¯ve mentioned before that I think part of what makes a fun magic system is a sense of literal interaction with the world, and some people had really cool ideas that played in that space. Which I am going to abscond with. One person had a lot of technical questions about magic systems, many of which I¡¯ll try to answer in story, but one I¡¯ve chosen for here: can the shape substance replicate specific biological phenomena in real life forms? Things like eel bioelectric production or octopus distributed intelligence. Yes. As long as the person trying to give themselves echolocation or the ability to see into infrared or whatever actually understands the biological principles at play, then that can work. The thing about shaper substance that I think I need to explicitly spell out a little clearer in the story is that it can do a lot. It can replicate what evolution has made on Earth, and go one step further. But, if you don¡¯t tell it exactly, precisely, what you want it to do? It fills in that blank space in your knowledge with components that technically work, but also hurt you. Constantly. Forever. You can give yourself biological sonar, a second brain, an extra parallel cardiovascular system, wings or tentacles or eyes, whatever you want. But the farther your imagination gets from a stable working life form, the more work the shaper substance has to put in. And when it puts in the work, no one likes the result. What¡¯s the biggest change in the fifth book going to be? I¡¯m going to do a thing that I¡¯ve been holding off on for a while: having the characters take actions that change the world, and having the world react. Specifically having random civilians react, because they¡¯re the ones who these things impact. It¡¯s hard to try to put a face on, like, statistical approval rating for large scale behaviors. But I¡¯m gonna do what I can. Do any characters have favorite bands or genres of music? I¡¯ve intentionally shortened this question, because there isn¡¯t a world that exists where I have the mental capacity to come up with favorite songs for every character in the story. I can¡¯t even remember every character in the story. That said, there¡¯s a few people that music is really important to, and they¡¯re fun to talk about. El likes the Offspring. She originally got into them because a friend of hers liked it, and then she ended up with a CD in her car on one of her original before-she-met-James Route Horizon delves, and she just clicked with the band. She associates them with ¡®driving music¡¯ now, and has a playlist of her favorite songs. Rise And Fall, Rage And Grace is her favorite album, but only for one song. Keeka likes The Crane Wives. He listened to a lot of music James gave him, and he sees his own anxieties about the wider world and a potentially hostile humanity reflected in the spiteful anger of bands like Zebrahead or Linkin Park. But Crane Wives was the first band that he found, intentionally, when he started looking for music himself. The Fool In Her Wedding Gown is his favorite album, because it¡¯s the first one he heard, and it made him look up a lot of new words. It also made him cry, but he doesn¡¯t understand why. Texture-Of-Barkdust likes Cake. Originally it was a compromise with Karen, on the days when they shared an office to work on finances. Karen would suggest singers like Aretha Franklin or Gloria Gaynor, and Texture-Of-Barkdust would suggest wordless free jazz with lots of horns. Texture-Of-Barkdust, though she didn¡¯t ever openly admit it, was self conscious about her voice, and the skill of Karen¡¯s picks constantly reminded her of it. In turn, Karen found that she couldn¡¯t quietly enjoy the kind of jazz her associate enjoyed, and that it constantly drew her attention a little too loudly. Cake was a compromise, beginning with their cover of I WIll Survive, and spiraling out from there. Texture-Of-Barkdust particularly likes the album Comfort Eagle, because it¡¯s a reminder of a lot of time spent working with a friend. Karen likes Cake. For the same reasons, though she wouldn¡¯t ever say it. She always surreptitiously skips the song Short Skirt Long Jacket, though, because there¡¯s a line in there with her name attached, and she doesn¡¯t want anyone to associate it with her. Planner likes Kraftwerk, and has told no one. I realize that I¡¯m basically writing fanfiction for my own story here. Some of this might creep into the main work at some point, so be on the lookout for that I suppose. When will The Daily Grind be back for public chapters? In about a month. Patreon gets to be six chapters ahead. I¡¯ve considered doing something where patrons get chapters faster, but I¡¯m gonna level with you all, I spend a lot of time writing, and I¡¯m not that fast at it. I don¡¯t really know if I could improve my output quantity without tanking quality. But yeah. A month or so. Pretty short break this time. Can you make the story more queer? Yeah I¡¯m on it. This isn¡¯t a question, it¡¯s the lead in to the end of this. And that¡¯s all for this one. Thanks to everyone who had stuff to ask, sorry if you¡¯re the one person who had a million interesting technical questions about magic and I skipped most of them (Come join the discord! There¡¯s so many people who want to talk about this stuff!) and as always, I¡¯m so glad you¡¯ve all chosen to come along with me on this bizarre journey. See you when I get back. Chapter 277 ¡°My plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity!¡± -Literally every villain from The Middleman- _____ James Lyle had, in his opinion, a pretty dang good job. Most of the time. He got to do a lot of different and fascinating tasks. And, yeah, half of them were literal magic, too, which was a big mark in the ¡®good¡¯ column. James tried to know at least a little about every ongoing project, and his cultivated curiosity and augmented memory helped with that. He could dress essentially however he wanted, as long as sometimes ¡®how he wanted¡¯ was ¡®heavily armored¡¯. No one had tried to make him cut his ponytail off, which was a big change from most of the jobs he¡¯d worked in his life. He was free to make his own hours, and set his own direction. The main motivating factor was what he wanted to do. And yeah, the hours were sometimes¡­ weird. He could take days off, but he often found himself working long stretches at all hours, just because he liked it. James was the most dangerous kind of member that their organization had; an actual honest true believer in the cause. The organization was called the Order of Endless Rooms. They did a lot. Found magic, found ways to put that magic to use, found people who needed help, used that earlier magic to help those people, that kind of thing. James was their paladin. Which wasn¡¯t strictly true anymore. He was one of their paladins. He¡¯d been the first, because he¡¯d been the one to pull the whole thing together in the first place, and then had to figure out what his place in it was. It should never have worked, but one thing that a lifetime of fantasy media hadn¡¯t prepared him for was a surprisingly cool fact. Other people could be just as smart, savvy, and heroic as he could. Often smarter, actually. And when a potent combination of magic and money meant that the people who¡¯d tied their fate to the Order didn¡¯t have to worry about things like poverty¡­ Well, when you could do almost anything without worry, there were generally two things that people chose to do. Either they chose to relax, enjoy their lives, and not tether their value to how ¡®productive¡¯ they were, or, they chose to be heroes. And even saying it like that wasn¡¯t really true, because half of the Order either did both, or did one and then the other. Heroes was a flexible term in the Order, too. Not ethically flexible, exactly. Though as a giant snake had once told James, knowing what was evil was a lot easier than knowing what was good. No, the idea of a hero to them wasn¡¯t the same as a comic book cape. Sometimes self defense was required, but a huge amount of help could be poured out into the world with applications of logistics, compassion, and simply having the time and willingness to do something. The Order of Endless Rooms had fought and bled for their base right to survive, but they were under no illusions that the ability to win a battle meant they had good ideas. The good ideas had to come separate, and they had to come bundled with the true desire for a better world. James¡¯ version of heroism was largely centered around communication. The Order didn¡¯t have a strict hierarchy of power to it, though they did have their own version of a representative democracy. But it did mean that there wasn¡¯t exactly a central source for information on what everyone was doing, what was going on, and what threats were being evaluated. His main job, in addition to learning how to use his own magic to maximizing effect and how to help with anything he might be needed for, was to facilitate the movement of useful information throughout the Order. It almost felt like a small task, when he put it like that. But there was a surprising amount of depth to it. So many things to consider about what each person was working on, what each group might be able to use, even just the consideration for what not to get bogged down in. And a lot of running from place to place. Or teleporting from place to place. Oh. They had teleporters. Two - technically three - kinds. It wasn¡¯t a big deal. Just part of the operation at this point. One of the biggest things that James had needed to force himself to adapt to was just how much he had to learn. Learning was great, and he knew that, but as it turned out, there was something of a good reason for why humanity specialized. Trying to bring himself up to a minimum level of competence for everything from construction to cartography, education to medication, was a task. And the magical skill ranks could only take him so far before he just had to start asking questions. So far he had not stopped asking questions, and had no plan to in the near future. But even that wasn¡¯t bad. Every day, he was better than he was before. Every day, he grew a little. Everyone should have that opportunity. Hell, the idea that everyone should have that opportunity was one of the core goals that the Order was putting work toward. They wanted a perfect world. There might not be such a thing as a perfect world. But that wasn¡¯t going to stop them. Because while it was hard to find the final shape of what was good, it was pretty damn easy to spot the things that were bad. Maybe they¡¯d progress toward utopia forever and never get there, but they¡¯d still be somewhere better than where the world had started. Part of James¡¯ job was shifting around what the goals for individual projects were. Making sure people were aimed in the right direction, and also making sure the Order didn¡¯t slip into the mistake of thinking that just having power and wealth was itself a moral good. They had to use them, and that meant at the very least sending some of their power away. Out into the mass of human life on Earth. Small things, really. Teleporting problem solvers. Duplicated material stockpiles. Cures for cancer. Free energy. That kind of stuff. They hadn¡¯t gotten to the really big projects yet. The projects James really cared about were a lot more personal. The stuff about gradually but firmly introducing nonhuman sophonts to the area around their headquarters was a big deal for him, for example. Camracondas were the easy part, despite being the least human. Serpents with security cameras for heads and corded cables for bodies, hundreds of pounds of power with brass fangs that dripped paralytic; also some of the most honest and sly people in the Order. They were so different that everyone just kind of¡­ got over the difference quickly. Ratroaches were harder, both because they looked like they were made out of spare parts from insects and rodents, and because they were - every one of them - deeply traumatized and often skittish. But humanity would just have to adapt to seeing weird people around. James wasn¡¯t planning to back down on that. Or the ongoing attempts to find ways to communicate with the necroad or chanter populations that the Order had safely hidden away. They were clearly people, and they deserved support and fulfilling lives. But that meant figuring out how to talk to them, and how to let them talk back. James spent a lot of his spare hours on that. It helped that the dog that lived with him and his partners also benefited from the ongoing progress, too. Sometimes, though, his job was a little more dangerous than just collecting useful information and then sharing the details of their operations or the nuances of their magic with people who might not even know what questions to ask. Sometimes, James had to go out and actually get that magic. The Order called them dungeons. Recently, a powerful post-human entity had insinuated to James that the name was fitting, but not for the reason he thought. Which was¡­ deeply worrying, but also not something he could really do anything about at the moment. Either way, dungeons were places where the geometry of the world folded, knotted, and expanded. Where the place itself was alive in some way, and that guiding intelligence created anomalous life forms, objects, and effects. The why was still up for debate. They just didn¡¯t have enough examples to really know, yet. The how would probably never be solved, realistically. But the what was where the Order had planted their flag; because a lot of those things that dungeons made? They were great. Pens that translated automatically, a spell that let you grow wings, jewelry that could purify water, orbs that gave years of knowledge in an instant, an mp3 file that generated your own personalized episode of Car Talk, all sorts of amazing stuff. But not just the loot. All those other species that were part of the Order, maybe they were supposed to defend their creators, but James had declared his intent early to solve things with the power of friendship. And that was why there were over a dozen different forms of life that made their home with them. And despite the fact that the dungeons - most of the dungeons, not all - were hostile places that could and would kill an unprepared or foolish human, James made a big part of his life delving into them. Risking himself to find the next big thing. The next disruption, the next fix, the next miracle. Something as innocuous as a box of paperclips could turn out to be an endless source of steel, and every delve was another roll of the dice to find a piece of power that his people could turn from abstraction, into aid. Officium Mundi was still his favorite. And his first. The place that had sparked this whole thing. Cubicles forever, twisted into a dozen different mimicry biomes, filled with things made from office supplies that would bite and snap in a constantly hostile ecosystem. But all the ones that came after were just as important. The Akashic Sewer, disgusting and violent as it was, had been where they¡¯d stolen the ratroaches from, and more. Clutter Ascent was beautiful, both physically as a sunlit attic, and emotionally as an almost childlike creator of wonders. Winter¡¯s Climb was harsh and cold, but ever fair, and its magic could tip the balance of the planet. The Ceaseless Stacks were just as vast as the Office, and just as powerful at accelerating human learning. Route Horizon was endless roads and baked desert, but also endless bizarre resources. And there were more out there, they knew. Waiting for a paladin to lead the way in. Risking his life felt easy to James. It had been easy at first, because he hadn¡¯t felt like he¡¯d had anything to live for. Now, it was easy because he was trained for it, used to it, and because he had everything worth risking his life to preserve. The people he loved and the world he wanted to heal; it just made sense to him to let his job be making the trade of safety for prosperity. When he said that he liked being a paladin most of the time, it wasn¡¯t the delving that was the other part. The part that wasn¡¯t under the banner of ¡®most¡¯. It was that he was, by his own designs, not in charge of anything. The Order of Endless Rooms decided on resource allocation and broad strategies democratically. They decided on plans and tactics by expert consensus. And there were people with veto power mixed among the different divisions and projects, that was important. But James wasn¡¯t one of them. Currently, James was doing his job. He¡¯d come down to one of the Lair¡¯s many, many basements to talk to an engineer about using the heat tunnel spell to generate mostly free clean electricity. Specifically, to talk about different mediums for where to build the thing, and if it was either possible or useful to build the generators at the bottom of the ocean. He was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t, but despite his endless learning, he hadn¡¯t gone to college for half a decade to be able to have that answer confidently off the top of his head. That was why he¡¯d intended to come down here. What was actually happening was that he was desperately wishing that he had kept the authority to tell them to stop doing a thing, as a pair of the more enthusiastic members of Research explained their plan to use the cell phone that made non-sophont temporary copies of people to do dangerous low-orbit construction on a platform for a magically assisted space elevator. James loved his job. But he also had a headache, and the coffee that made it easier to make plans wasn¡¯t helping. _____ Alanna Byrne gulped in air as she checked her phone, short blonde hair swishing as she twisted her torso to keep herself limber as she and her running partner took a break at their halfway point. ¡°Our boyfriend just sent me a text, probably through his skulljack judging by his baffling lack of punctuation, that just says ¡®we have to destroy engineering¡¯.¡± She put the phone back into the secure pocket of her enchanted sweatpants, and looked over at Arrush. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m with him on this. I think he¡¯s on his own.¡± ¡±¡­Say the first part again.¡± Arrush was not breathing heavily, yet. His inhuman form could run, climb, burrow, and fight to the death for hours at a time before exhaustion would start to have a much more rapid and deleterious effect on his ability to function than a human would. But the ratroach was made to be a weapon, and not a person, and so talking would wind him quickly if he kept it up. ¡±The part about punctuation?¡± Alanna asked, giving her friend a cocky yet still friendly grin that said she knew exactly what he meant. Arrush shook his triangular head - slowly, so as not to drip corrosive saliva onto the plants near them - and made a kind of exasperated clicking noise in his chest. ¡°The part where he is our boyfriend.¡± He said, not managing to maintain the same kind of confidence Alanna had, and flushing a shy neon green on the parts of his face that were exposed hide and not chitin or fur. Popping her neck as she rolled her head around, Alanna kept up her sharkish smile. ¡°You know, Anesh says the same thing a lot.¡± She barked out a couple notes of laughter to herself. ¡°I think James has a type.¡± ¡±You never say that.¡± ¡±I do, actually!¡± Alanna replied excitedly. ¡°It just hasn¡¯t come up around you yet. Give it time! Also that makes me feel pretty fucking good, since it means I am also in that whole ¡®type¡¯ thing.¡± Arrush nodded back, and was about to say something, but froze as other people came by them on the path they were using for their morning jog. The duo were out on the asphalt walking trail that wound through about five miles of suburb and undeveloped wilderness. There was less undeveloped wilderness now than when Alanna and James had been growing up here, but around the path, there were still clusters of old oak trees, small creeks, and sharp tall grasses that made it feel cut off from modern living. But also, at any given time, they were within sight range of a few overpriced houses or a whole apartment complex, so it wasn¡¯t isolated. The pattern of morning jogs had started when Alanna had realized that James was never going to be awake on a schedule, and ¡®morning¡¯ was an abstract concept to him in the same way that ¡®France¡¯ was. It existed, and he didn¡¯t really consider it his place to meddle with it. Her attempts to coerce her other boyfriend into it was met with a blank stare from multiple copies of Anesh, who had all made the exact same excuse about having work to do, every time. When Alanna had tried to get Sarah into it, her new girlfriend had turned into a cave goblin and tried to bite her, though that might have just been because Sarah was asleep at the time; she was the most peaceful human on the planet when she was awake and would never resort to cannibalism. The point was, none of the people Alanna was dating - a sentence she hadn¡¯t ever really expected to need to use - wanted to go jogging. Arrush did though! And not just in the way that a lot of the ratroaches would agree to anything because they thought they had to. The big ratroach was interested in his own physicality, especially since the Order had come up with some ways to mitigate the amount of pain he was constantly in until a more permanent solution could be applied. He ran for the same reason Alanna did; maintaining himself, staying sharp and active, and to grow slightly better at this one specific thing over time. The only issue was, he was an inhuman creature that a lot of people might see as a literal monster, and Alanna didn¡¯t want to go on jogs through the basement of the Lair, she wanted to go on jogs outside. Personally, Arrush thought outside in the morning was too cold, and somehow too damp, but he didn¡¯t mind it too much. What he did mind was that people - ¡®normal¡¯ people, the humans who had never known life that wasn¡¯t Earth - would stare at him. ¡±Morning!¡± Alanna dropped how loud her voice was to politely greet the middle aged couple that were out for their own walk. ¡±M-morning.¡± Arrush¡¯s own intonation was a stuttered chitter that had no volume to it at all as he stared at the ground. The man¡¯s muttered return of the greeting spoke of someone who had been coerced out of bed to be here, as was his confused stare at Arrush¡¯s face until he shook his head, blinking heavily as the walked by. The woman was a little more enthusiastic, but paused on seeing Arrush, glancing between him and Alanna as the two walked by, though she was no less polite. It was a little awkward, but nothing happened. Nothing ever happened, it seemed. But Arrush was still waiting for something to go wrong, and no amount of therapy seemed to be able to make him not afraid. Though honestly, it probably helped that he and Alanna were both pushing seven feet tall and had a general look that started at ¡®dangerous¡¯ and went from there. ¡°You good?¡± Alanna asked him. ¡±I¡­¡± Arrush started to answer, then stopped, sawing his fangs together as he tried to find the words to express his frustrations. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He admitted with a wet sigh and a fluttering clicking from deep in his throat. ¡°I want to be. You are trying so hard for me, and¡­ and that makes me feel good. But I don¡¯t like being looked at like that, and I want to borrow an earring.¡± He looked sheepishly at his own feet as he answered. Alanna just snapped her fingers. ¡°The earrings! Shit, I never even thought of that, that¡¯s a great idea.¡± She said easily. ¡°I kinda get caught up in the Response mindset these days, you know?¡± ¡°¡­you do talk about it.¡± Arrush agreed, his trust for Alanna warring with his bitter instinct that told him that everything was a trap. It wasn¡¯t though. Alanna was the most bluntly honest person around, and she really had just forgotten that they had magical earrings that deflected hostile notice. A sentence that was even more batshit insane to her than her earlier ¡®I am dating three people¡¯ thing. But that was just how life in the Order was sometimes. That was why they¡¯d nailed down early that they needed to keep solid records. And have people like James, technically. ¡±Yeah.¡± Alanna said, instead of commenting on their bad habit of not maximizing the use of their magical superpowers. ¡°It¡¯s sorta eating my life. I need more hobbies. But there¡¯s just-¡° ¡±So much to do.¡± Arrush finished her sentence with his own growing grin, his cracked maw glowing an almost fluorescent blue in the dim early morning light. He¡¯d heard Alanna say this a few times before, and here, now, he was on familiar ground. She stopped rubbing the back of her neck and tried to glower at Arrush, but he knew that this human was not only safe, but actively cared about him. ¡°Bah!¡± Alanna declared. ¡°Well despite your mocking of me-¡° Arrush curled one of his ancillary claws over his muzzle as he tried not to set off a chittering giggle at her, ¡°-I¡¯m pretty sure we can just get you one of the leveler earrings. If nothing else, the things need to be used anyway, so it might as well be someone who gets advantage out of it!¡± Arrush dropped his extra arm, staring at the sky as he tried to breathe steadily, the simple conversation draining him more than their two miles of running so far. ¡°Maybe¡­ maybe not.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Maybe I should stop being afraid. Learn to live in your world.¡± His array of eyes turned down to look at Alanna¡¯s face. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He admitted in his raspy voice. ¡±Meh!¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I mean, I abuse the shit out of the magic I have access to. I¡¯m basically drinking exercise potion as a daily thing now, you know? And I don¡¯t bother shutting off my Empathy these days, which makes conversation so much easier. So I say fuck it. And, like, it¡¯s not mandatory, you can have the priceless covert ops relic as a backup, just in case you¡¯re having a bad day or need to give the old Irish goodbye, right?¡± ¡±That seems¡­ wasteful?¡± Arrush asked, pausing to give a marginally more confident nod to a woman running by with her dog on a leash, one of the familiar faces that had gotten used to seeing him out here and was more interested in her own podcast than stopping to stare or talk. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t someone else have it?¡± ¡±Okay, I just checked.¡± Alanna said, looking up from her phone that she¡¯d deftly been typing on. ¡°The things are pretty small, so we have about six hundred of them, and we actually do need people to be using them constantly to progress them up the level chart. Now! You ready to keep going, now that I¡¯ve exhausted you talking?¡± ¡±B-bah.¡± Arrush stole Alanna¡¯s favorite word, chitin-banded chest rising and falling in rapid pants. ¡±I¡¯ll buy you a doughnut at the end? There¡¯s this fancy doughnut place over in the little shopping area up ahead.¡± Alanna said, resorting to base bribery. Arrush looked like he wanted to keep bantering, but his breath was running out, and also his tails twitched behind him, betraying excitement for the militarized payload of sugar now waiting for him. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought.¡± Alanna flashed her teeth as she started to take easy strides, working up to a faster run. Arrush gave a slow shake of his head as he watched her lead into a jog, but inside, he was happy. An experience that was becoming less and less novel every day, which was really exactly as it should be. When he moved to follow her, he didn¡¯t take his time to build up a pace. The ratroach just exploded into motion; recently trained control mixing with the violent strength that his semi-artificial body possessed. He caught up to Alanna, fast. But the two of them pace with each other after that. And when he did get a doughnut - some kind of frosted blueberry cake concoction - it was fantastic, and only about a fifth of it ended up on his muzzle and not in his stomach. His devouring of it had still made Alanna laugh in a way that distracted him from the human teenager behind the counter staring at them; and had also provided a second reason that the two of them had booked one of the pools back in the Lair¡¯s basement for after their run. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. It hadn¡¯t been too long ago that Arrush had even learned what June was, but so far, he was pretty sure it was his favorite month. _____ Rufus was running into a bottleneck in his daily activities, and the fact that it was already June was bothering him. His first human friend had sent off one of his best helpers to do some kind of paladin-errant thing, which was already bad enough. But on top of that, Rufus was running into more and more communication issues, and none of his constant growth seemed to fix the fact that he couldn¡¯t actually talk like the others could. Oh, he had a skulljack, yes. And for when that wasn¡¯t an option, a little keyboard that he wore on his flank that one of his pen legs could tap to project emojis. That was actually alarmingly good at getting the point across in about eighty percent of all situations. But despite being a creature that had literal actual pens for legs - the ink was a kind of natural ichor, he was told - Rufus still couldn¡¯t write. Write, type more than a character or two, feed thoughts into the vocalized program, nothing. Higher order communication was off limits to his species. For the majority of his life as a roaming stapler inside Officium Mundi, it hadn¡¯t mattered. For the majority of his life after meeting James and Anesh, and then getting into an increasing amount of trouble, it still hadn¡¯t mattered. His subspecies of strider had their capacity for complex thought grow over time along with their size, though, and as he felt like he had more and more things to talk about, the inability to do the talking began to frustrate. At this point, Rufus was the size of a corgi with a few extra hard edges, and was on par with the average human college student in terms of mental acuity. He¡¯d also been more or less left on his own to develop hobbies, which had, as many things in life did, gotten utterly out of control. A lot of what he did was hang around a small room in one of the Lair¡¯s basements. Twenty feet underground, and yet still possessing a skylight, the partitioned ex-storage-closet now played host to a whole host of botanical experiments that Rufus and his assistants were working on. One of his helpers and friends, Fredrick, even had hands of a sort, and the ability to take notes, which went a long way in their work. Some days, their attempts to get different dungeon plants to grow or splice or mutate bore fruit. Sometimes that fruit was all¡­ okay, mostly-natural Earth-origin skill orbs. And sometimes it was volatile highlighter ink. That plant actually only still existed because no one knew how to remove it and at this point they¡¯d reached a d¨¦tente. Rufus, Fredrick, and Ganesh left it alone, and in exchange, it didn¡¯t explode. Again. Gardening was just a hobby though. Rufus also had regular chores he tried to do. He and Ganesh were both of a shared mind that they should give back to the people who kept them safe, and so he and the living batlike drone had a habit of keeping the high ceilings and hidden nooks of the Lair clean. They weren¡¯t alone in it, since a few new striders had joined them in their work, and it wasn¡¯t thankless work either; the whole operation was noticed and vocally appreciated by basically everyone who had dust allergies. Which turned out to be a lot of humans. Humans were shockingly fragile sometimes, and Rufus was saying that as someone who was vulnerable to getting trampled by an excited and inattentive child. And then there was the project that had a deadline. Sort of. Rufus wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d ended up being not just involved with this one, but actually in a leadership position. How was he supposed to lead people - human people even - when he spoke in low-vocabulary sign language and emotes? And yet, he¡¯d been the one doing research, and his artificially imposed linguistic barrier didn¡¯t stop him from compiling useful information that other people had already written. He¡¯d been the one doing a first pass on recruitment. And he¡¯d been the one who had been inexplicably present at most of the meetings. The problem was that the timeline for opening a school was a little tight when, for most of the humans that were planned to attend, they needed to have things not just ready to start, but ready to hit the ground running, within a few months. The Order of Endless Rooms was an organization that wanted to prove their ideology correct by taking action and showing how their ideas worked. And that was great and all. But Rufus was into this because Rufus¡¯ own ideology was one centered around the power of knowledge. Education was an almost spiritual expression for him, and while he was certainly interested in the effort to create mixed species classrooms, and actually seek to gather more information on intellectual development and emotional maturity rates, the main reason that Rufus wanted to put different species together was that it would let them teach more people more things. Every single thing he¡¯d ever learned had let him survive better, plan better, be better. And Rufus firmly believed everyone should have that same opportunity. Maybe that was why everyone seemed to think he was in charge. He still needed to acquire a new human proxy to go to a leasing meeting today. They were signing paperwork for the places they would be rapidly renovating in accordance with the government guidelines that had already been accounted for. After that, it was a simple matter of deploying the creation division to the site, and letting them do their thing. Their thing with hands, and machines, in a way that was much more convenient for them than for Rufus. He¡¯d already gotten concurrence authorization for the duplication of multiple green orbs to put to use in the place. A much better use for the damned things than making puppet life, in his opinion. Material processing to speed up the remodel, accident prevention for safety, garbage removal for¡­ garbage removal. That one was obvious, he¡¯d admit. Also a few for extra time, and one for faster writing. Another forty orbs, unidentified, waited to be used until after the place was ¡®a school¡¯, as opposed to ¡®a building under construction¡¯. Office greens cared about that, for reasons that felt natural to Rufus but that the various beings down in Research argued about a lot. And all of that accomplishment didn¡¯t change that he couldn¡¯t properly discuss human psychological research. Couldn¡¯t do more than highlight sections of other experienced teachers talking about lesson plans and share their words. Couldn¡¯t even get past his own mental block to copy and paste words into his own ransom note style patterns. Rufus had heard that one of the new paladins had picked up a parasite from the Akashic Sewer that fed off his own anger to make him stronger. Right now, Rufus was pretty sure that if he¡¯d had one of those, he¡¯d be able to stab a leg through a steel plate. Because he was burning mad at the injustice of the whole thing. What was the point of lasting long enough to make friends who had stayed alive so far too, when he couldn¡¯t grow closer to them? Rufus folded his legs under his hull, settling down on the portion of the desk that he¡¯d taken over in his shared office and forcing himself to calm down. Being eternally irate didn¡¯t solve problems. Maybe the point was that he had friends. Had something he enjoyed doing. Had a dream. Maybe there wasn¡¯t a point, and it was okay to be angry. Maybe Rufus should look into the therapy thing that James advocated for so much and had been insistent was one of the foundational cores of their soon-to-be-realized school. Rufus closed his central eye and let himself find his center. Maybe he should actually listen to the people who he thought of as friends when they said it was okay to be different. The three hundred chanters hidden down in Tennessee couldn¡¯t talk to a degree worse than him, even, and no one had abandoned them. The idea of abandoning them was anathema to the Order¡¯s ideals, frankly. Same thing with the ratroaches who were too scared to speak for months or longer upon being rescued. Or with the apartment dog Auberdeen who, like Rufus, technically knew a lot of languages but couldn¡¯t vocalize them. He opened his eye and stood back up, deciding to trust his companions for now, and believe that his existence was valid. It was a nice feeling. If this was what therapy was meant to evoke, he should definitely try it, as he¡¯d like to feel it more. But for the moment, he went back to tapping at his laptop. Following links through JSTOR on a hunt for data, and also sending alert pings to the six people who were supposed to be meeting later this afternoon to start the final series of interviews for teacher and staff positions. Rufus liked what he did, believed in what he did even, but dang did June really sneak up on him. At least there was no active crisis going on and diverting knights that he needed right now. _____ ¡°Who¡¯s on hand for our daily crisis?¡± JP asked his assorted group of ne¡¯er do wells. He was standing on clean smooth concrete, looking at a series of projected screens sitting in the air that were actually part of Planner¡¯s body, occasionally sipping at the Starbucks cup in his hand to determine if it was still illegally hot or not. Casually stylish as he always was, even on slow days like today, JP liked to project the impression that he was cool, collected, and on top of things. Inside, he was starting to empathize with James in regards to how, after growing up, it was easy to see that adults lied constantly about the things they were on top of. He tried to not have those feelings when Alanna was around; her superpower would let her rip his ego apart without even trying if he did. Ben grunted out a single hummed note, a bad habit he¡¯d picked up from Nate, and looked through the roster. ¡°Depends. What is it this time? Daniel and Path are around if we need to find something. Uh¡­ Lyn¡¯s on hand somewhere. Kirk too, if you need a driver.¡± ¡±Is that it?¡± JP paused. ¡°Hey Plan, where¡¯s our boss?¡± ¡±Nate is attending an SCA event six miles from here at a community park.¡± The scratching noise of half-dry pen on paper that was Planner¡¯s voice filled the air around where their projected tentacles fed into their displays JP and Ben shared a look. ¡°Why?¡± They both asked at the same time, the human and the friend equally confused at the statement. JP continued. ¡°SCA, like, the ren fair people, right? This isn¡¯t some kind of industrial acronym?¡± ¡±Correct.¡± Planner said. ¡°He was punctual, too.¡± ¡±Okay that¡¯s cool Plan but like why.¡± Ben asked, his attention already drifting back to the topographic map of Missouri he was going over. The assignment strain of infomorph didn¡¯t exactly shrug. They just coiled a pair of tentacles that extended out of a desk drawer as they answered. ¡°He did not say.¡± ¡±Is he learning how to use a sword?¡± JP muttered. ¡°We have guns. He knows how guns work, right?¡± ¡±You super know that he does.¡± Ben flicked his eyes over to JP for a moment. ¡°Probably better than either of us. Also aren¡¯t you the sword guy around here?¡± ¡±If I don¡¯t remind people about that, they¡¯ll forget eventually.¡± JP flicked a finger over the end of his nose as he gave Ben a winning grin. Ben was unaffected. ¡°Well, I¡¯d be a bad friend if I let you live things down.¡± He smirked as JP stifled a curse. ¡°Anyway. What¡¯s gone wrong today? You never said.¡± ¡±Nothing.¡± JP admitted, chancing another sip at his drink and suppressing his concern that he kept going to Starbucks instead of drinking the literal magical coffee they had here. He knew he could just order fancy flavored syrups; it didn¡¯t have to be this way. ¡°Yet.¡± He added. ¡±I¡¯m not calling Myles in on a ¡®yet¡¯.¡± Ben told him, unimpressed by JP¡¯s suffering. ¡°Hey, there¡¯s a delivery today? Plan, is this on your list?¡± ¡±Silver jacketed munitions, estimated time of arrival is 3 PM.¡± Planner stated with a hint of smug pride. ¡°Does that account for them trying to say that we weren¡¯t here and they couldn¡¯t deliver today?¡± Planner¡¯s displays flickered slightly in anxiety that the infomorph was irate about. ¡±Yes.¡± They said. ¡°They will fail to do that.¡± ¡±Creepy, but effective. That¡¯s why you fit in so well here.¡± JP told the ethereal leviathan construct. ¡°Why are so many people out today, anyway?¡± Ben and Planner started going back and forth. ¡°Route delve has half our camraconda knights.¡± ¡°There is ongoing monitoring for one of the Last Line¡¯s daughters in the area.¡± ¡°The new guys are following up missing persons leads in Utah.¡± ¡°More experienced ¡®guys¡¯ are tracking the Blitzkrieg.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just Blitzkrieg, Plan. Also there¡¯s a training thing today that¡¯s taking up a bunch of people.¡± ¡°There are also six other ongoing monitoring activities, if you would like a list.¡± JP held up his corporate branded cup like a venti latte could deflect a barrage of information. ¡°What about Matt?¡± ¡±Matt¡­ what? We don¡¯t have a Matt.¡± Ben shot a sharp look in Planner¡¯s general direction, his head whipping around to point toward the assignment. ¡°Plan, mental check, now.¡± He pointed a finger at JP like he was ordering a charge into battle. ¡±No!¡± JP rolled his eyes, taking a step back and keeping his eyes on the pale blue appendages coming his way. ¡°Matt! The guy! You know the guy, the boxer who¡¯s really into horror movies! The one knight who has actively failed out of Response!¡± ¡±Oh.¡± Planner pulled back the octet of tentacles that were lancing toward JP¡¯s head. ¡°That Matt. Yes. We know that Matt.¡± Ben glared across the neatly organized dumping ground of his desk. ¡°That Matt doesn¡¯t work for us. How the hell are you in charge of anything?¡± ¡±I keep asking people that too.¡± JP nodded, sipped, and sighed. ¡°To be fair, I¡¯m not in charge here, I just help you and Nate. And when I was in charge of Townton, I got replaced fast.¡± ¡±You made Myles do it.¡± Ben scowled. ¡°And then we were short one rogue for a month.¡± JP smiled to himself. ¡±Yeah, I¡¯m really good at giving people promotions to my job.¡± ¡±Was there a point to this?¡± Ben asked. ¡°Because I have actual work to do, and you¡¯re just¡­ lurking here. Getting in our way.¡± He gave Planner a pitying look. ¡°Look, you¡¯re making Plan act like a sci-fi dystopia prop. That¡¯s mean. Stop that.¡± ¡±Alright, fine, but only because we¡¯re friends.¡± JP waved and nudged Planner back into their more comfortable projected form. ¡±I¡¯m friends with everyone, you¡¯re not special.¡± Ben said quietly, actually kind of hurt by the statement. He was friends with everyone. Whether he wanted to be or not. He wasn¡¯t human, and he didn¡¯t have full control over the way people reacted to him, and he had hoped that at the very least some of the people who actually knew him would stop bringing it up. JP cocked a single eyebrow in a practiced motion. ¡°I mean I¡¯m friends with Planner.¡± He said, the smooth needle of an insult bringing a shocking amount of surprised relief to Ben. ¡°Anyway, no point. I just wanted to make sure we¡¯re ready for whatever comes next.¡± He didn¡¯t sigh. Didn¡¯t show anything outwardly except calm competence. But JP knew it was only a matter of time. They¡¯d set themselves up to be in the perfect position to either get arrested as a dangerous cult, or to swoop in and save the day at the last minute, possibly both at once. There was no way there wasn¡¯t going to be a next crisis. The only question was what it would be, and if they¡¯d be ready. Were they going to get caught unprepared by another Status Quo? Were they going to have their training and expertise pay off when another dungeon opened up to swallow a city? Were they going to lose more people? JP wasn¡¯t cut out to be a commander. That was why he¡¯d made it someone else¡¯s job, even if no one actually realized he¡¯d done it on purpose. But he¡¯d prefer that the next big problem tilted toward ¡®simple and easy¡¯, and their outcome toward ¡®clean¡¯. He couldn¡¯t do much about the first one, but he could for the second. Not unless he wanted to start being even proactive about things than he already was. He partly hid a grin, letting the others see that he had things well in hand, had his own little confidence in what the Order was doing. Because he knew a bit of a secret. They couldn¡¯t exactly control what crisis came to them. But sometimes, when they were having a good day, and everything lined up¡­ They got to be the crisis that showed up for some other assholes. JP sipped his coffee, and actually did sigh. He¡¯d been staring dramatically at a whiteboard for too long and it had gotten cold. _____ Frequency-Of-Sunlight woke up when she got cold. Her bed was empty of everything except for her camraconda body, and a series of blankets that were neatly tucked on one half of the bed and tangled on the other. The part of the bed that was made was because Deb was gone. Off to work, off to be an optimized and motivated human, off to do something impressive and complicated and heroic in a subtle yet powerful way. She¡¯d left Frequency-Of-Sunlight behind, not waking up the slumbering camraconda when she¡¯d risen, dressed, and headed out. Though there was a sticky note attached to the dresser right at Sunny¡¯s eyeline that had a heart and a crisply written ¡°Love you, see you tonight¡± written on it. Sunny loved her too. So much that she practically burned from it. She¡¯d experienced care and compassion in her relatively short life before, of course. Her own people weren¡¯t dead to their emotions, even if they¡¯d found them hard to manage when they first awoke from their puppetry. But she¡¯d had nothing like what she shared with the human woman. Nothing like the feeling of romantic love, the quickening of her biomechanical heart when she thought of her partner, the shortening of breath when she saw her lover tangled in their shared sheets. Smoke-And-Ember had joked to Sunny once that she might have a human fetish. And they were close enough that Sunny hadn¡¯t tried to check him off the roof for the comment; it was hard to grow up together with someone you considered a brother and not be able to take a few snarky comments from them, even if she¡¯d had to learn to do it from an actual voice relatively recently. But he was wrong, anyway. Sunny didn¡¯t have a human fetish, she had a Deb fetish. Though she probably wouldn¡¯t tell Deb that. Maybe. Maybe it would make her girlfriend blush and sputter, which was always cute and perfect. Actually, Frequency-Of-Sunlight was coming around on sharing now that she thought about it. Suitably warmed by that bit of consideration, the camraconda girl settled into the mattress. Before getting out of bed, Sunny decided to plot out the trajectory of her day. Despite not being human, the Order of Endless Rooms had accepted her. Not just accepted her, they¡¯d made her a knight; or she¡¯d made herself one, and no one had commented. And again, not just that they hadn¡¯t commented, they¡¯d treated it as utterly natural. Sunny wasn¡¯t stupid; she approached things with a level of casual cheerfulness that put people off guard, but underneath that, she had a sharp and suspicious mind. She knew that humans weren¡¯t all going to be good people. Wouldn¡¯t accept her for her differences. When James had first come sauntering into the camraconda refuge in Officium Mundi, though, his default attitude was to trust them utterly. And when the Order had saved them all, they¡¯d asked for nothing at all in return, not even service. Which was why Frequency-Of-Sunlight gave her service willingly and eagerly. And even then, when she did, the Order had just nodded as a whole and said ¡°Alright, here¡¯s what we¡¯re working on.¡± And that only settled it, that she¡¯d made the right choice. Being a knight had some duties though. Sort of. She had promised to help Cheha with conversation practice, the ratroach girl needing all the compassion that could be afforded her. And she was signed up to take part in avatar training later in the evening. But those were small things. Sunny had a skulljack braid in. One of the newer models, that kind of just blended in to her cable body, and that were actually pretty pared down and comfortable to not have to remove most of the time. All it did was give her wi-fi access through her magical cybernetic, but that was all she really needed when she just wanted to look at the Order¡¯s local network. Looking through the list of open jobs for the day as she twisted her tail to flick the heavier part of the blanket off, she found something that she could throw herself into. Moving heavy materials wasn¡¯t the sort of thing you thought someone without hands would be good at, but camracondas could lock things down in relative space, and if you needed to shift a few tons of stuff for a construction project, someone like her was useful to have on hand. One of the neat things about being here was that it was okay that she was different. Not that it was ignored, but that it was folded into daily life. The things about her differences that presented obstacles, everyone worked to find solutions or workarounds for. And the things about her differences that made her special, became solutions for other problems. She was different. And somehow, it made her feel more accepted for those differences to be such a core part of her life. She added it to her schedule with a mental nudge at one of the four half-natural programs running on her skulljack braid. And then she added herself to the roster of active knights. If anything came up¡­ if anyone tried to hurt her friends¡­ she¡¯d be there. And then Deb would fret over her later, and they¡¯d go back and forth about Sunny throwing herself into danger, and then she¡¯d have to remind Deb that being chronologically young did not make her a child. But while those conversations hurt, it would hurt more to do nothing. She couldn¡¯t. How could anyone do nothing, after what had been done both to and for them? Not even Deb did nothing. Though she wasn¡¯t exactly risking her life, she still threw herself into the kind of work that might change the world someday soon. Frequency-Of-Sunlight double checked her plans, made sure she had hours to herself for things like lunch and relaxing and reading and magic practice. She replied to the verification message that said she was awake and prepared to deploy in the event a knight was needed. And then she got out of bed. Well, she rolled over the edge of the bed and let the floor take her fate into its hands. Frequency-Of-Sunlight was one of the lighter camracondas, but that still meant she weighed a hundred and fifty pounds, and when she wasn¡¯t putting effort into being elegant, she made a pretty heavy thud when she hit things. After that, she just needed to get dressed. Which, for a being without arms, was surprisingly easy. Her part of the shared closet was the lower bar, and it was easy enough to grasp what she wanted in her mouth without punching holes in it, and place it on the wall hooks nearby. From there, slipping her body into the cloth wrap she wanted to wear, and pressing into the pegs in a way that sealed the velcro it used to secure it to her, was pretty simple. After that, she repeated the process with one of the arm packs. The thing was basically the lightest possible battery and motor, with a pair of programmable mechanical arms attached. Their apartment had a special spot for it, so that she could easily clip the ethernet cable it used into a designated port on her skulljack braid, and then use the arms themselves to secure the rest of it. She would do it in the other order, but it turned out, wearing a camraconda version of a skirt over the arms was a good way to get everything tangled up forever. The battery would last for two hours of constant use, but Sunny didn¡¯t really stress the things. She liked the light weight of this pack, and the option if she needed it, but she¡¯d mostly keep the metal manipulators folded up at her sides. She did use the arms to add a belt under her skirt, checking to make sure she¡¯d have easy access to a series of pockets that held a few potion vials and backup orbs. It never hurt to be prepared for things. And then she was ready. For breakfast. Frequency-Of-Sunlight, knight of the Order of Endless Rooms, slithered out of her shared apartment and headed for the elevator up to the Lair¡¯s dining room. She didn¡¯t have any particular plans, but she was feeling pretty good about today, so she decided she¡¯d see if one of the shared tables had a spot she could hang out at. Maybe talk about dungeon stuff with some other delvers. That was always fun. She hissed the beat to an Aquabats song that had been stuck in her head for the last week, cheerfully throwing herself into the world. Part of something bigger than herself, that she wouldn¡¯t trade for anything. There was no time to lounge around in bed when there was adventure out there waiting. _____ Morgan woke up. Looked at his phone screen telling him that it was before noon. Went back to sleep. He was nineteen years old and uninterested in being out of bed if it was still morning. Next to him in bed, Color-Of-Dawn pushed itself up in an arch, blankly stared at the wall, and then flopped back down. It was too early to consider doing anything else. It was summer vacation. They both knew where their priorities were. _____ The Order of Endless Rooms had over four hundred people in it. More if you counted kids, kid-level life, and dependents. A lot more if you counted the chanters. And they were growing more and more every day. They were beginning to build systemic structures that they could rely on, ways of living, of helping, of resolving problems, that they could rely on to take care of them. They were continuing to throw themselves forward into the unknown, and the approach every strange new thing they found with open arms and welcoming words. They were working, in their own ways, on a dozen different things that they wanted to be seeds of a better tomorrow. Every one of those people had their own story. You could fill a book with all the different stories. Of how they got there, and where they were going; of what they wanted, and how they had changed. They were all different, from all over the world, if they were from the surface of Earth at all. But they were here, united, under a banner that made them all more than they were the day before. It wasn¡¯t them individually against the world anymore. And it never should have been; no one should have to live that way. It was them, all of them, for each other. They were all in this together, the way they always needed. To live was to be open to change and to face challenge, and the Order of Endless Rooms and its members were no exception. But every now and then, there was a quiet warm day in the middle of June. A day where nothing happened, except for everything that happened. Where the world didn¡¯t quake, where lives weren¡¯t upended, where it felt like they wore the grooves of their lives a little deeper into the world. Every now and then, there was a day where they simply got to be themselves. Marvelous moments that would always be there, driving them forward, even when things got dark and messy. The day passed by without anything going disastrously wrong. Chapter 278 ¡°More limbs means more human!¡± -Serge Yager- _____ ¡°Thanks for helping me with this one.¡± James leaned forward in something that might have been a bow if it weren¡¯t just him trying to land a kiss on his boyfriend¡¯s neck just under the skulljack port. Anesh didn¡¯t bother to dodge, just tilting his head so the guy he seemed to be in love with could tickle his skin. He did make an evasive maneuver when James decided to transition to lightly biting, what was now years of comfortable experience dating James and understanding how he showed affection giving Anesh an almost superhuman predictive reflex when it came to this one specific thing. Mixed with his actual slightly improved reflex time from a long ago purple orb, there was no way James was going to get to snack on his supple flesh without him at least trying to make a getaway. He made sure not to trip over any of the material that they were moving on this teleport. They weren¡¯t even close to the point that they were maximizing the use of space for the spherical spatial swap, but there were still a few pallets of food, building materials, and amenities like furniture that were being shipped down to Townton on this ride. And if there was one thing Anesh didn¡¯t want to find out firsthand, it was how bad the side effects of moving through the slowly closing bubble was. The teleporter worked by¡­ well, he didn¡¯t know how it worked actually. It worked by magic. But the effect it had was to start from a point either at the top or bottom of the zone, and make that point actually somewhere else. Then it spread outward at an even pace, wrapping to form a sphere that was effectively an omnidirectional portal to another part of Earth. Just Earth. The part of his brain that regretted quitting his job at NASA was mad about that. The problem of course was that, while it had safety features like ¡°not obliterating things due to the difference in kinetic energy between the poles and the equator¡±, it seemed to lack basic OSHA compliant features like any sort of effect that stopped you from touching the part that might kill you. And that was exactly what the line between here and there was, until the bubble closed and everything stabilized with two parts of the world swapped with each other; if you touched the edge as it opened, it was about as bad as putting your hand over a car window while someone tried to roll it up, but if you put your hand through the portal before it was done, it might cause it to pop like a balloon. So Anesh decided to keep the roughhousing with his boyfriend to a minimum, and not just because he knew that he¡¯d end up on the losing end of any play fighting. He¡¯d been studying, going to meetings, planning lessons, and tutoring. James had been training to be a member of an elite special forces unit that, if you could find him, could single-handedly deal with a lot of very dangerous threats. Not that this bothered Anesh. What bothered him was something else. ¡°Ah, you bloody goober! You drooled on my neck!¡± ¡±It¡¯s how I show affection!¡± James said with a perky smile as Anesh wiped the back of his sleeve on his skin. Nearby, Mark kept up his conversation with two other men who were here to do brickwork today, the burly contractor paying exactly zero attention to their antics. The woman running the teleport route on safety duty was smiling as she tried to not let them distract her. And overhead, the hue of light shifted as the bubble neared its apex, a distant sky slowly overtaking that of their home, until all of a sudden, the teleport was done. The time zone difference left them somewhere brighter and later in the day with nary a comment. ¡°Shall we?¡± James asked his boyfriend. ¡±You¡¯re lucky I love you, and that I have spare selves.¡± Anesh grumbled as he followed James, the two of them getting out of the way of the local residents and volunteers that were waiting to begin helping with unloading. On the other end, the people they¡¯d just left behind would be going through a similar process, moving the half dozen restored cars that had just been sent back out into the parking lot, to be given mechanical checks and registered with a state somewhere. James was of the opinion that cars sucked, and Anesh kinda agreed, even if both of them had loved the road trip they¡¯d taken together. But until they could spawn trains ex nihilo, a lot of people still needed to get to work, and the city of Townton had a lot of abandoned vehicles that could use a new home. ¡°I am lucky.¡± James admitted in a conversational tone as he and Anesh moved into the recovering areas of the lost city. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m also lucky that I caught you when you weren¡¯t completely overwhelmed. I would ask Alanna, but she¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ Alannaing today. But mostly I¡¯m just lucky you love me.¡± He shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world to say. And maybe it was. Maybe he¡¯d actually started to live the way he always talked about; a little more vulnerable and a little less afraid. ¡±You make it a right challenge to be mad at you for licking me.¡± Anesh said, adjusting his sleeves as he realized it was warmer than he¡¯d expected. ¡±It¡¯s my superpower.¡± ¡±Not the inhuman speed and accuracy?¡± ¡±It¡¯s one of my superpowers. But I think it¡¯s the important one!¡± James smiled and leaned sideways toward Anesh as they walked, but this time Anesh was even more prepared to evade. Both of them were in good spirits as they headed toward James¡¯ latest bad idea, though for once, James actually felt lighthearted and not just like he was deflecting from a hidden tension. Maybe it was how nice this place was getting. The streets of Townton, on average, were shattered asphalt. Ruined cars pierced by fragments of the road itself, buildings collapsed with their supports shattered, scattered broken glass everywhere, the remnant ash of a hundred small fires, and stains from everything from blood to gasoline. All of it beginning to be covered and consumed by the natural world moving back in. With nothing keeping them down, the local plant species had exploded out of cracks in the concrete, ivy and wildflowers and moss digging into every space that was no longer trampled down daily, spreading across tilted roofs and slanted facades. No corpses, though; those had all been disassembled and repurposed into more of the bone gears that animated the necroad population. Which meant that the average street in Townton also had a few of those creatures as well, rough black hovering bodies with a quartet of suspended claws that let them skate on the empty roads and tear into targets with equal ease. Since the city had been aggressively forgotten, Order of Endless Rooms took charge of cleanup. But the division that worked here was still small even after a recent expansion, so the average street was still¡­ that. All of that. Some parts of Townton, though, were secured, and in the process of reconstruction. Not to bring it back to how it used to be, but to use it as a starting point for something else. They¡¯d put out the fires, recovered what personal effects of the survivors that they could, salvaged maybe a tenth of what was actually worth it, and set about building in the ruins that no one could find. At first it was just JP and a handful of others. Then James dumped a couple traumatized ratroaches and a handful of guilty cultists on him. Then as things settled down, more volunteers and delvers moved in, and as they rescued more ratroaches, more of them opted for the place that had fewer people. But fewer didn¡¯t mean none, and those people needed support; food, living space, maintenance, health care, more people meant more people to take care of the people. And then the population had tripled after the chanters were relocated, and even more long term volunteers from Recovery moved down. They¡¯d tried starting with a hotel, for living space, and had done an okay job turning it into a kind of command center for their operations. Much more comfortable than the police station they¡¯d been using before that. But it wasn¡¯t central to anything, and it wasn¡¯t enough; so when there had been a slight influx of new rescues to the area, it hadn¡¯t been too hard to pack everything up and move to a new site that encompassed a larger chunk of the old city. Still not an appreciable amount of the mostly suburban zone that used to hold over twenty thousand people, but bigger than one hotel. They¡¯d chosen to set up around a large park that spanned several blocks in a line. Flanked on one side by what had been an old Main Street, and by ongoing urban growth on the other, the Order had placed the designated teleport platform about a block south of their line of habitation. Many of the buildings were empty on the ground floor, but the upper levels of the businesses had been retrofitted into apartments that the human and ratroach residents lived in. An old bank acted as the new command post, with about fifteen green orb effects on it that kept it clean, a little safer, and improved communications coming from it. One of the buildings on the street had been carefully turned into a small sewer system maintenance hub for the area, after they¡¯d cut off all the existing pipes from the rest of the city, so they had running clean water in their area courtesy of the purification brooches. There was no broken glass here. But it didn¡¯t look or feel like the city it had once been. Partly because when they¡¯d been using blue orb manipulation abilities to put the buildings back together, there was a tendency to use smooth lines or small artistic flourishes that hadn¡¯t existed before. Partly because the streets themselves were empty of cars, and instead were filled with food and medical tents, seating for people having lunch while they took a break from construction, sorting stations for salvage, and the materials for rebuilding. And partly because the park itself, a flourishing green jungle of an area, held sixty large heavy white canvas tents to house the three hundred chanters that had been brought here recently. The chanters were technically hexapeds, though their front two limbs were more flexible than their needle like main legs, and had claws with something close enough for jazz to opposable thumbs. Wavy thick shells covered their backs, pale greys and greens mostly, with nubs and dull spikes protruding out from the sides around the ridges. Underneath, they were rather lanky creatures, mostly covered grey hide and with flat faces that had glistening vertical oval eyes taking up a huge portion of their visages. They had two magical effects that were currently known. For one, they were empaths. Not just receivers, but very, very potent broadcasters too. They could sing or chant - hence the name - their feelings into the air as an almost atmospheric effect. And they had arrived to the Order¡¯s care after being kept for their whole lives in a mostly unlit basement, forced to execute human prisoners so that they¡¯d be worth more experience points to the people that were keeping them as livestock. So that had been a challenge. Townton didn¡¯t feel like it used to because even now, the chanters were still carrying the feelings of despair and bleak sorrow that had lived with them their whole existences. Some of them were just waiting to die. To be killed. Because they expected it, earnestly. And they barely even cared. The fact that they were improving, coming to trust the Order knights and restorers in some small way, didn¡¯t change the fact that it took a strong person to live here these days. But sometimes, they felt new things for the first time. Sometimes they felt joy, or peace, or hope, and the electric ocean of those new experiences was powerful enough to sweep out and buoy the souls of every single person in this city. Chants that would start hesitantly, confusedly, and then get picked up by a handful of the other chanters before rising and falling back down again. And it was happening more and more often, especially as they learned that there was no punishment for this behavior. Some of the other residents, just a few, were trying to learn to chant themselves. There was a loose theory that it wasn¡¯t innate to their species, but was something anyone could pick up. James was pretty sure it didn¡¯t work that way, but he¡¯d been pretty sure humans weren¡¯t supposed to understand how dungeons made things, and that had gone out the window about the time Momo started slapping together red orb totems. The other thing that the chanters did was make plants near them grow. In comparison, it was unimpressive and secondary, but it meant that the public park that had mostly been dead dry grass and a few exhausted sycamore trees was currently an edenic paradise that would probably collapse if all the chanters left, but sure looked like a cool part of the local area right now. Despite the availability of the street, James and Anesh still reflexively stuck to the sidewalk as they made their way from the platform and into ¡®town¡¯. Dogwood and fiddleheads brushing against their legs as they moved past the flourishing greenery, and into the reclaimed and defended part of the city. Heading through a security checkpoint and toward where people were going about the business of their days, whether that was simple life, or more complicated attempts to experiment with new magic or communicate with their newest people. The guard post was for the necroads that were still out there. Thousands of them, and most of them might not even be hostile. Sometimes they¡¯d approach slowly, and a few groups had even dared to get closer and enter the revived part of town. They were watched closely when they did, but they never got close to anyone in particular, and left soon enough. Some, though, would attack on sight and weren¡¯t shy about doing so. Which was why the guards, part of Nate¡¯s attempt to train up people closer to actual soldiers than most of the Order, had rifles out of sight behind their little stations. ¡±I have clearly not been here in a while.¡± Anesh said, his head on a swivel as he looked around at the place. Redecorated buildings and regrown nature. The surrounding swell of noise from people who were talking, laughing, and ordering lunch from the half dozen different improvised food carts made him feel like he¡¯d fallen back into part of London for a minute, though with fewer people and shorter lines to get a kebab. ¡°What¡­ happened?¡± ¡±Time, effort, magic, and life, I guess?¡± James shrugged. He wasn¡¯t watching the scenery, he was watching Anesh, with a small smile on his face as he lived vicariously through his boyfriend¡¯s fascination with the place. ¡°Though not all our magic! There¡¯s a surprisingly lack of orange totem buildings here, mostly because we don¡¯t know if we¡¯re gonna have to demolish or rebuild any of the stuff around, and Nik says that it might mess with the¡­ well, he used a fancy new word that Research made up, but mess with the formatting basically. So those are part of phase four.¡± ¡±You have phases.¡± Anesh¡¯s hand idly caught on a plant as they passed, plump fruit hanging from under wide flat leaves. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡±Uh¡­ huckleberry I think? Oh, fun fact I learned! There¡¯s a different variant of them than I¡¯m used to that¡¯s actually native to the area! They never really got spread around though, and they¡¯re kind of a novelty, with the exception of a few farms around here. I don¡¯t think they¡¯re very sweet, though. Which might be why the Oregon ones have sort of a monopoly on the market. But I might also only believe that cause I¡¯ve lived my whole life in one place.¡± ¡±You teleport.¡± Anesh said, looking to James with a questioning look before he got a nod and plucked one of the berries to try. ¡°Huh. Tha- augh.¡± ¡±Yeah the bittery soury bit really sneaks up on you, huh?¡± ¡±Why would you let me do that?!¡± James spread his arms. ¡°It¡¯s an experience! Also the local ratroaches love these things. Share in our growing culture, Anesh!¡± His boyfriend ran a thumb over his tongue, as if that would help. ¡°You get mad when I make the curry too hot, you don¡¯t get to lecture me on food culture. Wait, is this revenge? You bellend.¡± Laughing, James pulled Anesh against him in a half hug. ¡°Nah, I legit think these things are neat.¡± They kept moving, and through the thick green leaves of the hedge that acted as a porous wall between the sidewalk and the park area, James saw a pair of chanters creeping along low to the ground. Their needle legs with the joints up over their shells carrying them like they were sneaking, as they kept an eye on the humans that were on the outskirts of their new home. ¡°But yeah, thanks again. I dunno if I said it enough.¡± ¡±This is the fourth time. Stop thanking me.¡± Anesh grumbled, not really that upset at all. ¡°Despite your efforts to constantly pile more bizarre work on me, having four bodies does actually let me get an astounding amount done in a day. Like-¡° ¡±Alanna.¡± ¡±¡­You are impossible.¡± Anesh¡¯s skin darkened to a rich copper as he looked away from James and cleared his throat. ¡°I was going to say like-¡° ¡°Kee-¡° Anesh clapped a hand over James¡¯ mouth, getting a few curious looks from the people eating lunch at the tables under a tent in the street that they were passing by. ¡°Hush you git. Go back to thanking me for being helpful. But if you¡¯re really not interested, I can-¡° ¡±Mmmph hm hmmphm!¡± James said, pulling Anesh¡¯s arm down so he could talk normally. ¡°No, wait, I¡¯m sorry! Took the joke too far, I actually do care what you¡¯ve been up to! Actually, though, before that, you said ¡®four bodies¡¯ and not ¡®four selves¡¯. Are you¡­ I dunno, doing the hive mind thing a little deeper? It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve plugged our brains together, I don¡¯t know how you feel about it.¡± Sometimes, Anesh thought to himself, talking to his boyfriend involved a lot of emotional whiplash. The way James could go from goofing off to serious and considered questions about small details in conversations sometimes felt like a football match where, sometimes, the ball would try to eat the next foot that contacted it. ¡°You are impossible.¡± Anesh said with a sigh as they rounded a corner and slipped around a park bench, James pointing out the spot they were headed toward. ¡°Well. Here¡¯s the thing.¡± He sighed as he put his thoughts in order. ¡°I¡¯m trying to decide if I want to be one person, or four people, I think. Having four copies of myself that we all refresh into the same person over and over is¡­ it¡¯s just not good. I feel like I¡¯m missing three fourths of my life. All I have are memories of things, but I never experienced them. There¡¯s a bizarre difference.¡± ¡±Hm.¡± James let his hand linger on Anesh¡¯s arm. ¡°Have you maybe considered learning guided meditation, or maybe talking to Lua or another of our therapists about cognitive behavior therapy? It might help when you¡¯re syncing with yourself, to make the memories less¡­ foggy, maybe?¡± ¡±Can¡¯t hurt!¡± Anesh nodded appreciatively. ¡°I¡¯ll check into it when we¡¯re home. But yeah, Marlea¡¯s writings are¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡±Terrifying and awesome?¡± ¡±Interesting.¡± ¡±A look into the potential mass upheaval of all of humanity but also super cool and deeply rooted in compassion and positive self-esteem?¡± ¡±No, I meant interesting.¡± Anesh snorted. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s¡­ okay, you¡¯re reading farther into them than she¡¯s writing, I think. Marlea is really just actually talking about the pros and cons of essentially¡­ well it¡¯s not suicide, but it is an abandonment of the singular sense of self.¡± ¡±I wouldn¡¯t even call it abandonment.¡± James offered. ¡°More like¡­ hm. Temporary divestment? Like, her call to action is to say that you don¡¯t need your ego all the time, and I have a hard time arguing with that.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°I agree, your ego could take a break sometimes.¡± ¡±Hey!¡± ¡±But in my case, it would more be a logistical problem. Since all of me are me, the biggest issue is just keeping a connection up. And unlike Marlea, I don¡¯t keep myselfs all in one place. Right now - oh, you asked what I¡¯ve been doing, here - right now I¡¯m assembling materials for a lesson plan, working on the algorithm to help nail down purple orb effects from data points, and making soup. And I¡¯m here with you. All those Anesh are in different places.¡± ¡±Ah. So you¡¯d need to be using the actual human internet if you wanted to keep linked up.¡± James nodded, looping his arm through Anesh¡¯s for a few steps before they both realized they weren¡¯t even close to capable of the romantic gesture of walking that closely without constantly kicking each other. ¡°So the other direction is¡­?¡± ¡±Cutting myself loose.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°Being four people named Anesh, who are really comfortable with each other, because we share twenty nine years of life.¡± ¡±I always forget you¡¯re younger than me.¡± Anesh poked James in the ribs. ¡±Yeah, cradle robber. Ah, we can talk more about this later. I assume we¡¯re here.¡± They were here. Here in this case was the pavilion where the Order made most of their efforts, with marginal success, to communicate with the chanters. A wide tent of heavy tan canvas, weatherproof for when needed but currently open to the afternoon sunshine, the inside was an eclectic mix of tables and chairs, with whiteboards and computers for keeping records, mixed with comfortable nests of blankets and pillows, a few attempts at custom crafted seating for chanters specifically, and a singular out of place couch that was magic. Specifically, the couch made it so that the place it was in gave a constant conceptual boost to understanding. Stronger for whoever was on the couch, as in, whoever was sitting on it could be understood pretty easily, even if, as a completely random example, they had their jaw wired shut from that time they fell thirty feet and headbutted a wall on the way down. But the effect extended to the ¡®room¡¯ the couch was in, especially if the room needed a couch. It was a bizarre category of magic item, and James loved it. He just wished it hadn¡¯t come from the worst fucking dungeon he knew of. There were ten other people in the tent, which made it a little crowded without being cramped. One of them was Indira, the round faced Indian woman almost glowing with excitement as she had taken to her leadership role in the communication efforts like a fish to water. The fact that she liked to hang around in a really well made mermaid tail both as a way to make the chanters more comfortable with someone who looked less human, and to hide her own missing leg, made the fish to water part a little closer to literal. There were also a few other residents and helpers. One of whom was Kirk, a man who still felt guilty about the whole ¡®destroying the city¡¯ thing that his cult had perpetrated. But these days, James would be hard pressed to find someone more loyal to the Order, and to trying to put things right, so despite his own internal discomfort there was no one here who felt afraid of him. James was actually surprised he was here, and not out on the active Horizon delve going on right now, but he was a welcome addition. There were also a couple very young ratroaches who were here more on the side of learning communication skills than teaching them. The fact that the Akashic Sewer didn¡¯t make all its ratroaches out of magic and dreams had been an interesting thing to learn. Academically, it meant that ratroaches could reproduce, and were a species and not an anomaly like most dungeon life. Even camracondas, who had primary sexual traits, seemed to have them as an affectation and not to have kids. Other Office life, like iLipedes, just¡­ didn¡¯t have life cycles as part of an ecosystem. The dungeon made them, eventually they¡¯d age to death, and that was it. But ratroaches could have kids. It violently killed the mother, of course, because the Akashic Sewer was rather dedicated to the practice of causing maximum pain to everyone it could. Which went a long way toward explaining why half the female ratroaches that went through a shaper substance recreation of their bodies opted to either change themselves to male forms, or just removed their whole reproductive system. The ratroaches here were just shy of six months old, but they were already four feet tall and emotionally closer to a human ten year old. Faceted eyes and spined antenna flicked to an fro as they watched the people in the tent, curiosity and apprehension definitely there, but they¡¯d been pulled out of the Sewer very young, and lacked a lot of the overwhelming fear responses that older ratroaches had. It was just weird to see ratroach kids. At least, to James. He was so used to them being¡­ not adults, exactly, but something that wasn¡¯t literal actual children. But he¡¯d take confusion any day if it meant they¡¯d get to grow up and have a real actual childhood. The other five people in the tent were chanters. They were nervously standing around in a rough ring, and it was not hard to tell they were nervous, because as he approached, James began to feel it too. Chanter emotional broadcasts were weird, because they didn¡¯t exactly make you feel the exact emotions. Instead, it was more like having a big neon sign declaring the emotion, in a way that was very, very hard to not pay attention to. Red orbs, the ones from the Office that gave emotional resonance ranks, were incredibly valuable here in Townton. The ability to rapidly sort out which emotions were yours and which were in the air was hugely helpful. As was the ability to understand and react to the chanter broadcasts without being too influenced by them; reacting to fear with compassion, instead of more fear, was critical. Despite being nervous, though, the chanters were still here. They were, in James¡¯ opinion, the bravest fucking people on the planet right now. Either that, or they still weren¡¯t totally sure that the Order wasn¡¯t just demanding a tribute in lives, and they expected to be sacrificed so someone could level up. But James hoped they were at least past that by now. ¡±Paladin, welcome!¡± Indira¡¯s greeting was pleasant and respectful, a robustly crafted personality that wasn¡¯t quite as natural as Sarah¡¯s was, but was no less impressive in how easily she put people at ease. ¡±Hey mate.¡± Kirk said with a single nod. ¡°Mates.¡± He conceded quickly, tilting his head at Anesh. ¡°Welcome to town.¡± ¡±I thought it was Townton.¡± Sometimes, James opened his mouth, and words fell out, before he really had time to filter whatever dumb thing he was about to say. ¡°No, sorry, back up. Terrible non-joke. Ignore me.¡± With a small huff of laughter, Kirk gave him a quick thumbs up, which showed off a thickly wrapped and lightly red-stained bandage under his jacket sleeve. ¡°Oh dang, you okay?¡± ¡±Huh? Oh.¡± Kirk rubbed his arm loosely. ¡°Uh¡­ don¡¯t worry about it.¡± If any comment was going to make James and Anesh ¡®worry about it¡¯, it was that one. But the duo just gave Kirk matching glowers that they¡¯d honed together on Alanna whenever she suggested they go to the gym together, before letting it drop. ¡±Stop harassing my underlings.¡± Indira directed James, pointing her hand like a lance in his direction from her wheelchair. ¡°And stop making our friends nervous!¡± The friends in question were definitely the chanters; the ratroach kids seemed like they were hiding secret giggles at watching Kirk get in trouble with the other adults. Still, James didn¡¯t want to make anyone feel nervous, so he let his face drop back to a resting expression, and turned to the spike shelled creatures that shifted back as he looked at them. Only a little, but enough that he noticed. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Moving carefully, James passed around them, and slowly lowered himself to one of the piles of pillows on the ground. The tent had a few basic carpets laid out so they weren¡¯t just on the street, but it still felt weird to him to feel like there was something cozy like this in the middle of a road. His careful motion fell apart at the end as he overcommitted and dropped the last half foot with a thump, but after that, he pulled himself to a cross legged position and met the palm sized oval eyes of the nearest chanter that was watching him. ¡°Hey there.¡± James said. ¡°How¡¯s it going? Enjoying the sun?¡± He paused, and bit the inside of his cheek before looking over at the humans and single camraconda in the tent. ¡°Hey, actually, are they okay with the sun?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Indira confirmed quickly. ¡°Actually this is pretty close to what would be their ¡®native¡¯ environment. Especially when it¡¯s humid.¡± She gave a dramatic pause, hazel eyes looking up at the ceiling of tent. ¡°It is very humid here, especially for something this far from the equator.¡± ¡±Cool.¡± James turned back to the chanters. ¡°Anyway. Hi. I know you can¡¯t quite ¡®hear¡¯ me, but I¡¯m glad you guys are here today.¡± The chanters actually did settle down. The effect of the ¡®room¡¯, the little boost to understanding each other, let them¡­ not exactly know what he was saying. But they could feel the calm optimism in his words, in their own form of language. Just like he could sort of get it when they toned down the nervous energy they were putting off. The biggest problem with the chanters was one that they seemed to share with James¡¯ first dungeon friend, Rufus. An inability to click with spoken language. They could vocalize, certainly, and it might actually not be a magically imposed problem at all. But the process of communicating complex thoughts with them kept hitting roadblocks. One of the biggest, and also the grimmest, theories was that they were essentially deprived of mental stimulation for so long that they were akin to humans that were deprived of education or freedom as kids. They might actually not have the framework to learn, even with the skill orbs for languages. Another theory said that they just needed to find a starting point, but until then, there was a barrier in how the different species approached communication that made it difficult to get anything across. Either way, none of that would stop the Order of Endless Rooms from providing care for them, for as long as they needed it. Personally, James was really interested in how the next generation of chanters would grow up, because it would rapidly validate at least one theory. And going by the vile records they¡¯d ¡®confiscated¡¯ from the group that had kept the chanters prisoner, the eggs that the chanters were keeping safe would probably be hatching in the next month or so. Which made it important to James, and to a lot of other people, that they find a solution now, if possible. Which was why he was here. Anesh dropped onto the pillows next to him, and James kept facing the chanters as one of them tentatively approached. The pointed tips of their legs making muffled taps on the carpet as the individual closed the few feet between them. The chanter smelled like burned cinnamon, the scent getting stronger to James as it got closer, at close range overwhelming the omnipresent flavor of summer pollen in the air. ¡±It¡¯s impressive how comfortable with you they are.¡± Indira said softly. ¡±Well.¡± James spoke to her without taking his eyes off the chanter or the little smile off his face. ¡°We¡¯ve met before. Haven¡¯t we?¡± There was only one individual chanter that James had ¡®met¡¯, exactly. And it was the one that he¡¯d briefly plugged his brain into. Which, he was pretty sure, was this exact one. It had only been a short moment, but it was an important one, and details like the two uneven conical spikes on the left side of the shell, or the lighter shade of grey hide, stood out to James as details of a person and not a category, which let him recognize who he was talking to and not just what. Kirk saw that they were getting comfortable, and gave a quick wave to the tent. ¡°Hey, you kids have fun. I¡¯m gonna take these kids and give you some space. We¡¯ll be back later tonight, Dee.¡± ¡±Stop hunting for nicknames for me.¡± Indira said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. ¡°Imu, Iru, Sunshine, you three be good for Kirk, okay?¡± ¡±Y-y-y-yes okay.¡± The two ratroaches stammered out, undeterred by their uncooperative tongues. The camraconda, who James hadn¡¯t realized was young, just nodded and hissed, before the three of them all followed the older human out and giving the tent more of an open air. ¡±So.¡± Anesh said to James as the others left and the chanters seemed to relax slightly more. ¡°Before we do this, I have to ask¡­¡± ¡±I think it¡¯s important.¡± James replied as his boyfriend opened the pack he had and started to pull out a router and ethernet cables. ¡°I think we should be doing everything we can, and this is a preexisting way of doing things that we know works. And I also know it helps if I have an extra mind, but Zhu was busy today.¡± ¡±I find it weird that the person who lives in your head can be busy without you.¡± Indira cut in, getting a series of taps from the chanter¡¯s legs as they rotated to look at her, until she wheeled herself over to be sort of ¡®between¡¯ the two sides of the conversation. ¡°You¡¯re also not the only one to try connecting with them, just so you know. You¡¯re just the only one who¡¯s had any success.¡± ¡±Zhu is a free spirit. Almost literally!¡± James grinned, though the toothy expression slid into a sad frown as it caused clear distress in the chanter that was nearest him. ¡°Sorry, sorry. I¡¯m not gonna eat you. It¡¯s okay to come sit next to me if you want?¡± The chanter seemed to freeze as if considering the words, before raising itself up an inch and creeping forward, legs slipping off of pillows before lowering the whole body back down onto a cushion closer to them. Closer, though still out of easy reach. A calculated display of trust. ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± James breathed the words out. Anesh tried to clip cables into ports on the router with the quietest clicks possible, but it didn¡¯t quite work out, and he ended up making loud noises that startled everyone in the tent, human and chanter alike. ¡°Sorry.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Also James, that wasn¡¯t what I was going to ask you.¡± ¡±Oh?¡± ¡±I need to know if you¡¯re diabetic. Chevoy said it was important, and that last time you gave the wrong answer.¡± ¡±¡­Circumstances have changed.¡± James decided to use the most neutral voice possible. Which Indira took exactly the wrong way. ¡°You can cure diabetes?¡± She asked. ¡±It would be we, not you, since you¡¯re part of us. But also no, I just had a magical assault disease inflicted on me. Sorry.¡± James sighed. ¡°It¡¯s a long and wretched story and I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t want to¡­¡± The look that Anesh gave him made it clear that his boyfriend instantly regretted the comment. But Anesh just wasn¡¯t sure if now was the time to try to comfort his partner over the events surrounding the Underburbs. He still reached out to set a hand on James¡¯ shoulder, and offered a small physical comfort as his partner took a steadying breath. It bothered him that the part of his brain that was magically trained with a variety of perception tricks noticed the chanter¡¯s reaction. They definitely took notice of the action, specifically. The specific combination of the change in James¡¯ tone, the instant reaction from Anesh, and their combined body language, it meant something to them. And it didn¡¯t take Anesh more than a second to find that his brain had already provided an answer. ¡±Do they recognize us reacting to emotional cues?¡± He asked Indira. Which, weirdly, was the best thing he could do to help James too. His boyfriend seemed to operate best when there was a puzzle to solve or a conversation to participate in, as a way of paving over his own anxieties. Probably not healthy, but Anesh wasn¡¯t a therapist. Yet. He tested a lot of yellow orbs, so it might just be a matter of time. Indira nodded, adjusting her position in her chair to lean an elbow on one of the arms. ¡°They do. It surprised them a little, at first, so I don¡¯t think they ever saw anything like it from the monsters.¡± She twisted her artificial mermaid tail slightly as she leaned forward and watched the chanters with clear admiration. ¡°They do learn, though, when they see us doing things. They might not know spoken language, but they recognize that we¡¯re communicating like them in some ways.¡± ¡±That¡¯s good to know.¡± James said, idly running his hand over his chin. ¡°That might be a good starting point for this test. Anyway, no, Anesh, I¡¯m not diabetic. Thanks.¡± He didn¡¯t add that the real reason Zhu wasn¡¯t here was that the navigator sort of was, and that they hadn¡¯t managed to find anything to clear the magically inflicted medical issue from him. ¡°Anyway!¡± He kept his exclamation quiet, so as not to startle anyone. ¡°Should we get started?¡± He was mostly addressing the chanter nearest to him, but Anesh took it as a direction too. Indira watched as they disconnected their personal skulljack braids, and plugged directly into a local network in a setup that made it much, much easier to fall into someone else¡¯s mind. Almost too easy, sometimes. The router was modified, because the Order¡¯s engineering department had a compulsion, but it still opened them up to a sort of vulnerability that required a lot of trust to do. Indira also made them wait for everyone else, including one of the local first aid people, to show up. Just in case, she reminded them. James felt pretty good though, as he slowly offered the third end of the skulljack connection to the chanter he¡¯d first connected to when they¡¯d rescued their people. He¡¯d spent a lot of his time lately being reactive to problems. Defensive actions and last minute lunges for solutions. It felt really good to have the time and space to be able to pick an ongoing issue off a list and just decide he was going to tackle that today. Maybe not an end-all solution, but at least get some work in. He wasn¡¯t sure how the chanter felt about it. But they still took the familiar length of cord in one of their foreclaws when James handed it to them, and mimicked his motion to connect it to the port that had been forged on their neck underneath the thick shell. It took a few tries; connecting cables to things was sort of a foreign concept to the creatures that had lived their whole lives in dark isolation. But they did get it, after a few tries. And very quickly, James and Anesh could feel the potential connection they had access to. They were both experienced at this by now, at sort of having a way of probing with their minds across the unnatural bridge that humans weren¡¯t really evolved to have a sense for. It was like being in a dark room, where you couldn¡¯t feel the floor. But you could feel yourself, and every time you took a step, you mapped out a bit of the area. If you reached out and grabbed a doorknob, you wouldn¡¯t actually know, but when you opened a door, you could feel every motion of the hinges, and hear the echo of the space beyond. And none of the doors were locked. Passwords slowed you down, made everything complicated, and there was no getting past them online. But if you were directly plugged into something, a skulljack let you just kind of sidestep a lot of digital security, in a way that would probably have far reaching repercussions later when the technology spread outside the Order. James closed his eyes, and let himself be at peace in that little dark room. Felt the presence of Anesh there with him. He knew the digital architecture of his own self so closely now that it was easy to sense when someone stumbled through the door and said hi. Minds had a tendency to instantly abandon individuality across direct skulljack connections. And James quickly started to fall into a shared hive mind with the chanter. But Anesh was there and wired to act as support; holding a part of his individuality and persona back, to observe and guide the process. It was a bit surreal, and a bit hard to explain; like he was piloting his own thoughts rather than thinking them. But it didn¡¯t take long before James started to feel like the alien experience was worth it. The chanter was confused and scared and expectant of something unpleasant and hungry. And now, James was too. They both were, though ¡®both¡¯ wasn¡¯t a word that mattered anymore. They were one and the same, with only a part of James held back to observe with Anesh. The first time they¡¯d done this, the feeling of despair had been¡­ not overwhelming. Because that implied that it was something that drowned out normal life, and it didn¡¯t do that. It had been everything, at all times. There was nothing but the despair. An existence defined by a hollow lack of hope, lack of light, lack of anything. Mechanical adherence to motion forced by threat of violence, and nothing else. This time, it was still there. It wasn¡¯t gone. You couldn¡¯t get rid of that kind of pain overnight, or over the course of months. Maybe you couldn¡¯t get rid of it ever. But it wasn¡¯t everything. It formed a core, that all other emotions checked in with on a regular basis. Satisfaction, calm, joy, satiation, safety, anything that wasn¡¯t the despair would rotate around it and sometimes tether itself to the central memory. ¡°Is this,¡± the chanter part of them asked at all times, ¡°going to be like this?¡± They didn¡¯t use words to ask it. They used feelings. But it was a familiar dance, that James understood, because the half of them that was him had something quite similar. His trauma wasn¡¯t nearly as vast and bottomless, but the pattern was the same. Emotions that reflected and refracted through other emotions. Context and history that redefined new feelings. The mutual entity found that it was easy to compare the two different ways of things, as they were really quite similar. And yet, the James side, despite having a lot of extra things attached to the orbited emotions, was far simpler in execution than the chanter side. ¡±Fascinating.¡± Anesh¡¯s voice said out loud as he and the fragment of James observed the joined minds thinking about themselves. ¡°They do have a language. It¡¯s just not like ours.¡± Indira¡¯s sharply defined eyebrows shot up as she watched quietly, the woman keeping quiet until the end in case she interrupted something. The other four chanters shifted, though no longer nervously. Instead, they clicked and made low cries and output a feeling of curious intrigue that the humans and camraconda in the tent were more than willing to be swept up in. James and the chanter didn¡¯t process most of it. His shared self was too busy thinking about everything. As the minutes passed, and each physical mind passed concepts back and forth, it became easier and easier for the collective whole to get what the problem had been. Both problems, really; they were distinct from each other. The first problem was that the chanters were still waiting to die. And the dread and grim acceptance was used by the shared self to cover up and try to obfuscate cunning and conspiracy. But the James side was a master of self-deception, and the chanter was an ameture at best. The single person couldn¡¯t lie about this to itself; there were plans among the chanters for a number of situations. Where the weak points in the perimeter were, where the necroads were more passive, where the most armed humans weren¡¯t. How to organize a column, how to protect the eggs, how to perform a clumsily executed breakout maneuver. Not for if they were rounded up and executed, but when. So James nudged Anesh, and let himself open up more. Let the chanter in to the deeper parts of his soul, let them blend together, and focused as best he could on actively thinking thoughts so that they would stick on the other side when the link was cut. But he did it in a style that addressed the second problem. The second problem was that the chanters spoke in emotions. The second-and-a-half problem was that they sucked at it. Status Quo had committed genocide in two ways, and the forced elimination of a people¡¯s language was the accidential byproduct of their disgusting treatment of the chanters. With nothing to feel but despair and resignation, and active punishment for communicating in their own way, the chanters never developed a vocabulary. Their older generations that had a language were long dead. The new ones were slave children, separated by force from their own history and culture, with an insurmountable gap between now and then. So the chanter didn¡¯t have the words, and James didn¡¯t have the ¡®words¡¯. The chanters though, as Indira had pointed out, weren¡¯t idiots. They had intelligence and they noticed things. They learned. So they were patching together more and more of their own brand new emotions into something that wasn¡¯t really a language, but was useful for transmitting meaning in small ways. And the shared creature tapped into that. With James opening himself up, with complete honesty, and getting outside aid from Anesh to repeat thoughts across both of them. Over and over again, until it was sure to stick in some way. That the Order was never going to hurt them, at first, but that was too abstract. So instead, they narrowed the scope to something more personal. Revulsion, orbiting a feeling of violence. Sorrow, orbiting the experience of seeing others in pain. If it was two people trying to share with each other, it would be impossible. Despite James, in retrospect having the words to describe it, in the moment it felt complexly alien and confusing. But only to him, and not to them. As it wasn¡¯t each side individually trying to understand, but instead, one shared creature that was thinking with both types of mind, it was more like meditation. Rolling over ideas and vibes and really just spending time considering things within the joint perspective. Which, surprisingly, was compelling to the combined entity. Maybe it was just how novel the experience was, but both James and the chanter didn¡¯t feel any urgency or need to flee the situation. Instead, slowly, the shared emotion of trepidation was replaced by honest curiosity and creativity as they dredged up parts of each side of themselves, presented it, and looked at it from the twin perspective. Over and over. Two lives, one of them certainly worse than the other, but slowly giving context and details to each other. It was easy to understand now, but the dual person quickly realized that the point wasn¡¯t to understand now, it was to lay a framework to each understand when they were separated again. They lost track of time. Kept their two sets of eyes closed, and just let the world become thoughts. It wasn¡¯t like there was some kind of sensory deprivation going on; the observers both human and chanter were still making noises and talking and emoting, the passage of the minutes and then hours meant they were getting hungry in two uniquely uncomfortable ways, the whole ¡®sitting on the ground¡¯ thing was fine for the chanter half but deeply uncomfortable for the human body¡¯s back. So they didn¡¯t exactly detach from the world, and they couldn¡¯t do this forever. Eventually, they had to stop though. Anesh prompted it, his own guiding thoughts on James¡¯ mind informing his boyfriend that he couldn¡¯t keep doing this for long. The information filtering to the duel existence of James and the chanter was actually fascinating because it revealed the concept of a romantic love to the side that had never felt anything of the sort. And it was tempting, very tempting, to just push Anesh back and restart the looping meditation discussion, to explain things like boyfriends from the shared perspective. But Anesh insisted, and the other party resignedly agreed that they should probably go get lunch or something as a pair of stomachs made their discomfort known. It really was inconvenient having a fallible body, sometimes. Disconnecting was a bit abrupt, because there was no getting around that when you weren¡¯t using most of the special hard and software filters that had been built for it. But afterward, James opened his eyes to feel like he understood the chanters just a little bit clearer than before. Like their emoting was something more than a reflex, even if it was still in the nascent stages of a language. Next to him, the chanter he¡¯d been linked to wobbled to rise on bladed needlepoint legs, and twisted their head sideways to look at James and Anesh with a newly built understanding. And then, surprising even James, they opened their mouth and uttered something. ¡±Awaaak.¡± The chanter said, before their glistening oval eyes dilated slightly and their body language deflated. James smiled at the attempt, hiding his own amusement. Social comfort, obfuscation of vulnerability. He tried to reply. And then realized he had said exactly nothing except made some weird motions with his shoulders. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s¡­ wow, that¡¯s really hard to do as a human, huh?¡± He asked. ¡±What, interpretive dance?¡± Indiria asked. ¡±No, I¡­ you know what, I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± He said, stretching out in full, and finding it pleasantly satisfying that the chanter he¡¯d been connected to didn¡¯t flinch or express any nervousness at all. The other four did, kind of, but so did the Order members in the tent as the connected chanter hopped and flexed their legs out. Or maybe that was just James reading into body language too much, overly sensitive to a form of communication that humans and camracondas only partly participated in. ¡°The good news is, they¡¯re not actually that alien. And the better news is, I think we can both learn how to talk like each other.¡± ¡±Baawkp.¡± The chanter agreed, before ducking their head in either embarrassment or frustration. ¡±Exactly, thank you.¡± James replied with a smile, reflexively trying to push emotion out through a mechanism he didn¡¯t have in this body. ¡°Whoof. Okay, two things¡­¡± he trailed off. Anesh picked up for him, having been ¡®watching¡¯ the whole time. ¡°Three things. One, that form of connection is an excellent way to overcome seemingly imposed inabilities in communication, and we should try it with Rufus and the other striders if they¡¯re interested. Two, even I¡¯m feeling the residual effects, and I wasn¡¯t really part of you for most of it. So we need to be careful.¡± ¡±Maybe grow some specific programs for it.¡± James mused. ¡°Wait, you said three?¡± ¡±Three, I have been very patient, and I¡¯m not upset, but I need to find a washroom rather quickly please.¡± Anesh said as he stood and looked at the locals with pleading eyes. Indira gave a small titter of laughter as she pointed with a tilt of her hand. ¡°Out of the pavilion, take a left, there¡¯s a building with blue and white signs on it. Bill did whole thing up as a¡­ well, you don¡¯t need the history.¡± She set her mouth in a line as Anesh was already halfway out the tent. ¡±Okay thank you!¡± He called back, rapidly vanishing from view with a wave. ¡±So.¡± James said, rising and resisting the urge to clap his hands eagerly while he waited for Anesh to get back. The chanters, especially the one he¡¯d been linked to, looked like they were sort of echoing a similar emotion. ¡°This went well! Do you-¡° He stopped as all five chanters made quick swishing motions with their forelimbs to the others in the tent, and then rapidly scuttled out to the street, moving as a group as they headed off without any further fanfare. ¡°¡­huh.¡± James watched them go, feeling weirdly glad that they were comfortable enough to just leave like that. With the chanters gone and the show over, the support people filtered out pretty quickly, though Indira made plans with one of them to get dinner later. James didn¡¯t actually recognize them by name, but he gave friendly nods to the different people he¡¯d seen around who had been on hand in case things went wrong. And with that, the wide pavilion was a lot emptier and less crowded, just a waiting and well organized space with some comfortable seating and a few other things. ¡°Well, anyway.¡± James continued his earlier thought. ¡°Do you think anyone else would be up for trying this?¡± He asked Indira. ¡°I can keep coming back, but I¡¯ve got a lot of plans for the next month or so.¡± The woman shifted her head back and forth, one hand itching softly at where her silicone tail was wrapped around her body. ¡°Difficult to say.¡± She said, her accent stretching the first word into its component syllables. ¡°Certainly, someone on our side will want to try. Whether they reciprocate is hard to predict. The real question is, how important is the adjunct?¡± She looked after where Anesh had run off. ¡±Pretty important.¡± James answered. ¡°If I didn¡¯t have him holding part of me back, I don¡¯t think I could have done the¡­ well, it¡¯s hard to explain. I¡¯m going to have to take some time after I process it all to write it up, if that¡¯s okay.¡± ¡±Take your time. We¡¯re not rushing.¡± James smiled as he looked out of the tent¡¯s front flap and into the park across the way. ¡±Especially now.¡± He said. ¡°I hope that my conversation partner can spread it around, but I think¡­ I think that I got them at least to understand that we want them to be safe. Or at least, that I do. I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s weird! They¡¯re ¡®supposed¡¯ to have emoting as their primary communication tool, but I think that the chanters are maybe biologically inclined toward individualism.¡± Indira wheeled her chair back to the table she used, taking the router and cords James handed off and finding a box for them. ¡°How do you mean?¡± ¡±There¡¯s a joke about a religious sect that goes ¡®if you¡¯ve met one Jesuit, then you¡¯ve met one Jesuit.¡¯¡± He grinned, though she didn¡¯t return it, just tilted her head and stared at him looking for an explanation. ¡°The idea being, because of how they¡¯re trained, you cannot make assumptions about members within a group based on other members of the group. Every case is individual and must be studied and have conclusions drawn independently. I think the chanters do that.¡± ¡±Ah. Ah.¡± Indira looked engaged now. ¡°You¡¯re saying that when we try to tell them ¡®we¡¯ won¡¯t hurt them, it doesn¡¯t register. Or, maybe if they believe us, they think ¡®we¡¯ is the people in the room. They need to make up their minds about each person on their own.¡± She thought about it, then frowned. ¡°I am not sure it tracks, however. After all, they believe about us what they believed about the monsters, don¡¯t they? They are capable of generalizing.¡± ¡±They are.¡± James nodded. ¡°Though that¡¯s different in a way. That¡¯s sorting the world into two categories; them and everyone else. What we¡¯re asking them to do is harder, because it means building mental models for a lot of different groups. Status Quo is easy, they¡¯re the them they always assumed, with a different name. But now there¡¯s the Order, and within that, there¡¯s your outreach branch, the medical personnel, the people with the food, the ratroaches who live here¡­¡± ¡±The ¡®ratroaches who live here¡¯ are often part of those other groups.¡± Indira pointed out. ¡±I know that. But do they know that? And even worse, the ratroaches often have different behaviors because of their own traumatic pasts. Which changes how you think about them. They¡¯re part of multiple ¡®groups¡¯ in that way. To us, it¡¯s easy; we¡¯re used to thinking that way. To the chanters¡­ I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯s innate to them, it could just be that they¡¯ve never been anything but captives.¡± James sighed deeply. ¡°Morose, I know.¡± ¡±Yes, you¡¯re bringing down the mood.¡± Indira seemed like she wasn¡¯t joking when she said that, which struck James as a little uncomfortable. ¡°Enjoy the success. You talked. So to answer your question, yes. Yes, we will find people who want to try. I¡¯m certain that there are pairs with the proper adaptations who can do what you did. Even if there aren¡¯t many, this is an opportunity. A way forward.¡± And underneath her words, James heard something else. A little side effect of the boosted understanding; the implication that she felt like she was maybe a little too useless here. The desperate need to prove herself, to make sure the Order didn¡¯t abandon her because she wasn¡¯t pulling her weight. It was bitter, and angry, and she didn¡¯t say it out loud, but it was still there in her words. James shot a glare at the Underburbs couch. That kind of thing might technically be improved understanding, but it felt like a violation in a small way. And Indira noticed him noticing. ¡±Sorry.¡± He said quickly, for nothing at all. ¡°Uh, scowling at furniture is a religious observance for me.¡± ¡±Really.¡± She said with an intentionally schooled emotional tone. ¡±Nah, but don¡¯t worry about it.¡± James sighed. ¡°Well, fuck it, I¡¯m gonna steal a page from Alanna¡¯s playbook and just plow through this problem. It¡¯s cool what you¡¯re doing here. And even if this doesn¡¯t work, it¡¯s good that you¡¯re helping to acclimate these people to their freedom and to our presence. But even if you weren¡¯t, you¡¯re welcome in the Order, you know? Your membership isn¡¯t contingent on your day job.¡± ¡±¡­I would rather not talk about this.¡± Indira bluntly stated, pivoting to avoid looking at him. James shrugged it off. ¡°That¡¯s cool.¡± He said, then got quickly distracted by his boyfriend¡¯s return. ¡°Ah, Anesh! Just in time for me to ask you on a lunch date!¡± ¡±It¡¯s¡­ not a date if we¡¯re here for work.¡± Anesh said. James linked arms with Anesh, pressing against his partner. ¡±Nonsense. Any lunch can be a date. Hey Indira, there¡¯s a bunch of food things around here now, where are random interlopers like us allowed to eat?¡± ¡±At literally any of them.¡± The woman rolled her eyes at James¡¯ attempted levity. ¡°Though perhaps skip on the Mexican offering if Roland is helping today.¡± ¡±¡­well now I gotta know.¡± James said, sharing a flummoxed expression with Anesh. Indira sighed dramatically. ¡°The man is still obsessed with the products of the Route Horizon. So while I¡¯m sure he¡¯s a perfectly reformed person, he insists on trying to use the new plants in food, and Dorothy dotes on him enough that she allows it.¡± James had a distant memory of Alanna telling him something about the mass of stolen seeds from the Horizon¡¯s deadly and protected train being things that grew beans. But that was only a month ago, at most. ¡°You don¡¯t mean the bean thing, do you?¡± He asked. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡±Shouldn¡¯t be possible, shouldn¡¯t be grown yet, yes, yes, tell me more about what magic can and cannot do.¡± Indira scoffed. ¡±Sorry, what do the beans do?¡± Anesh asked, trying to be polite despite his growing sense that maybe he didn¡¯t actually like this person. Indira looked surprised. ¡°Oh! I assumed you knew. They¡¯re a hyperadaptive species of bean somewhere between black and pinto beans in terms of texture and flavor. They grow¡­ rapidly, if the seeds are left anywhere outside of their original dungeon containers.¡± ¡±How hyperadaptive?¡± James asked with interest. ¡°Like, can you plant them in sand?¡± ¡±They would plant themselves in sand.¡± Indira scrunched up her nose in aggravation. ¡°The first ¡®crop¡¯ of them is how we learned exactly how flexible they were, as a few that spilled from the dungeon sacks took root in the shipping container they were being stored in. More still grew through the concrete in my apartment when they were dropped during a move.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± James understood why she might be irate about the beans now, and his mild discomfort got pushed aside in favor of sympathy. He wouldn¡¯t want his apartment damaged by beans, certainly. ¡°So they grew shipping container beans? Or concrete beans?¡± ¡±No, the same beans. They just grow anywhere.¡± ¡±¡­Anesh I want to eat dungeon beans.¡± James demanded, giving his boyfriend puppy dog eyes. ¡°That sounds so cool. I want to taste a thing that isn¡¯t like an Earth plant! Can we go get a burrito made out of magic? Please?¡± ¡±I¡¯m already on board you don¡¯t need to¡­ actually, no, keep begging. It¡¯s a cute look on you.¡± Anesh turned the script on his partner as he laughed. Indira tried to shoot down James¡¯ fun. ¡°They do just taste like they¡¯re between two normal beans.¡± ¡±Indira, I need you to understand, he stopped listening to reason when you said ¡®dungeon beans¡¯.¡± Anesh tried to tell her, shaking his head. They said their goodbyes and thank yous before leaving, but James¡¯ mind was already elsewhere. On how something as simple as a bean might be yet another lever by which he could move the world. And on what, exactly, a burrito would taste like when it was made from food that wasn¡¯t from normalcy. It turned out, it was fine. He wasn¡¯t really impressed by it or anything. But it was different, and new, and that made it feel like a small adventure in itself. James and Anesh spent the rest of their afternoon in Townton, having a slow lunch, talking about the chanters, and watching the convoy from the last Route Horizon delve roll back into the zone. Under the summer sun, in the humid air, it felt like the whole world was opening up ahead of them. Chapter 279 ¡°Things don¡¯t get better, things don¡¯t get better just different.¡± -BCKYRD, Hot Mulligan- _____ James was on time for a meeting. This, in and of itself, wasn¡¯t the kind of thing most people would think twice about. But James wasn¡¯t most people, and despite his best efforts and two different styles of upgrade to his ability to remember things, he still felt like he was late all the time. And yet, here he was, walking in to the prepared conference room in the real world structure that Officium Mundi had its entrance in, exactly five minutes before the meeting started. Completely unsure of how, exactly, he hadn¡¯t ended up being ten minutes late. ¡±Planner, did you-¡° ¡±Yes.¡± The manifested informorph stated without either regret or smug satisfaction. ¡°There was an obstacle to the smooth operation of the schedule, so I took action.¡± ¡±¡­Plan, please don¡¯t mess with my head to make me on time.¡± James said asked in a low voice, trying not to get upset in front of the other people who were already here. ¡°Just give me a heads up next time please.¡± Around James¡¯ arm, Zhu¡¯s expressive orb of an eye opened and stared up at his partner¡¯s face, feathers radiating out around it like a startled cat. ¡±I want to know how I didn¡¯t notice that they did that. That¡¯s terrifying. But also for later.¡± The assignment, showing themself in the room as a series of precisely coiling tentacles that wrapped around the walls and neatly framed the third floor windows, didn¡¯t respond. James didn¡¯t think this was settled, but he didn¡¯t think this was the time for it either, so he found his marked space at the table and sat down with the others. The Order of Endless Rooms had a couple general rules about meetings. Not that they hated meetings or anything; actually being able to talk to people face to face as opposed to just using a forum or shared text chat, to make sure everything was sorted out before starting or pushing forward with a project, that was great. But they were doing their best to maintain their rapid momentum and not get bogged down in spending half of every day talking about things and not doing them. So meetings had to serve a purpose. They weren¡¯t supposed to involve people who weren¡¯t relevant to the meeting. And the weren¡¯t allowed to get into topics that they hadn¡¯t prepared for. James¡¯ love of tangents was slightly kneecapped by the rules, but it did keep things crisp. Oh, and all of them had publicly available records for anyone in the Order to reference. Transparency was critical, and no issue of security so far had justified keeping secrets. This meeting in particular actually was a security briefing of sorts. Specifically, it was Nate¡¯s attempt to apply an amount of structure to the rank of paladin, by creating a structure in which unattached paladins could be presented with known issues and be given expert advice on what to focus on next. Not that the Order didn¡¯t have enough people to do multiple things at once, but the purpose of a paladin was to select their own objectives, and to lend a sort of force multiplier to any operation. James had found Nate¡¯s explanation to be a little odd. It sounded like their chef-and-or-spymaster was suggesting that paladins were the kind of people who needed objective driven mental stimulation, or else they¡¯d get bored and depressed. And that was¡­ Well, correct, probably. James didn¡¯t know about Spire-Cast-Behind, but he was pretty fucking certain that applied to all three human paladins, himself included. He just didn¡¯t expect anyone to say it out loud. Not that Nate was here. ¡°Hey, is Nate late, and if so, is he somehow immune to Planner?¡± The four other people in the room, all of them also ten minutes early, gave different flavors of aggravated look at Planner. ¡°Nate is not coming.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said, narrowing his lens toward the infomorph. ¡°He is looking into something, according to himself.¡± Next to the lithe camraconda, a human man in a pastel polo shirt frowned. ¡±The last time the boss was looking into something, he got eaten by a plant for a week, and took three rogues with him.¡± ¡±Technically, he took one rogue, the other two got eaten by the plant first and were being looked into.¡± The third speaker was a kid who James recognized from one of the security teams, but didn¡¯t have a name for. He spoke with the kind of mixed accent that meant he¡¯d probably learned English from skill orbs, and within the last six months. He said ¡®technically¡¯ like a kid who had just learned a cool word and really wanted to use it. James placed him as maybe Chinese, but it was hard to tell with how skill ranks messed with accents, and there was no way in hell James was going to guess at ethnicity based on facial features. ¡°He¡­ he said he was¡­ ¡®dealing with a problem early¡¯.¡± One of a pair of people spoke. James did a quick double take as he realized that there was a ratroach here; not that he wasn¡¯t used to seeing them, just that he wasn¡¯t used to seeing them on elected council positions. Ishah took a second to find his voice, and looked like he was leaning on emotional support from the small assignment that orbited his head like a halo of eyes and scales, but he was dressed more stylishly than basically everyone else here and had his notes spread out in front of him on the table; possibly the only person to actually arrive early. ¡°He said ¡®problem¡¯ like how humans do when they know they aren¡¯t saying things right, and I think he meant he was going to kill someone. I¡­ we¡­ I didn¡¯t want to tell him not to?¡± ¡±I kinda doubt Nate¡¯s just going to fucking murder someone in cold blood.¡± James said as he took his seat. ¡°Also, hi. James Lyle.¡± He offered a hand to the two new people in succession. ¡±Jim Caine, human bookmark.¡± ¡°Taio. Just Taio. Security. Pleased to meet you off the field.¡± James repressed his curiosity for the moment. ¡°Well, if we¡¯re here, may as well get this started. I¡¯m rested, healed, trained, improved, and a few other adjectives that mean I¡¯m better than ever. So. Give me some options.¡± The four others settled into their chairs or basket seat in the case of the camraconda. Notes on the table, both physical and projected by Planner, were flicked through and spread out. The room wasn¡¯t small or anything, but it was interesting to James to be in a place that was so different from how the Order built things themselves. This was a normal corporate meeting room, and it definitely showed. Part of him wished that there had been space available for this in one of the rooms that were more personalized in the building, but it was a busy day here in their offsite office. Knife-In-Fangs took the lead, and pulled himself mostly upright to look over the conference table. ¡°I have information for you regarding New York, and its ongoing pillar activity.¡± He said. ¡°Planner, please replicate page six and seven for him.¡± The camraconda didn¡¯t pause, trusting James to read and listen at the same time. ¡°When we killed one of the city¡¯s Status Quo analogs, the Last Line and Chain Breaker left. Not after the fight, but after our third encounter with them. The timelines match, so we are operating with the context that the Last Line of Defense is capable of ¡®protecting¡¯ against Status Quo, and the Chain Breaker is¡­¡± The camraconda stopped talking, and turned to look at Jim. The older human shrugged. ¡°The lady¡¯s fucking nuts. But I don¡¯t think she¡¯s after Squo like the Line is. We suspect she¡¯s hunting him, and using targets that she can get ahold of to bait out Camilles.¡± ¡±Yes. That.¡± Knife-In-Fangs nodded. ¡°Currently, we are looking for the Long Arm Of The Law, but have been unable to find any trace of it, despite odd behavior by the NYPD.¡± The camraconda¡¯s digital voice pronounced the acronym strangely, and Knife-In-Fangs ducked his head in slight embarrassment. ¡°There are leads being followed up, but many are dead ends, and the situation seems to have low risk to it. But help is welcome.¡± James tapped his chin without thinking, and then froze when he realized that Zhu¡¯s extended talon around his hand was mimicking the gesture. He rolled his eyes at the navigator, and set his hand back on the table. ¡°That one sounds like something I should be on standby for, but unless there¡¯s an active situation¡­ actually, hey, did we ever do a follow up on the gang that the Chain Breaker coerced into action?¡± ¡±Recovery has been sorting through information to track them down or contact next of kin if required.¡± Knife-In-Fangs calmly twisted his body in a curving wave. ¡°We have not made contact. But many of them survived. Perhaps most.¡± ¡±Okay. Can you get me their information? That I can do, and I think establishing contact would be a good idea.¡± Next to him at the table, Jim snorted. ¡±You¡¯re just gonna walk up to a gang banger and say hi?¡± The man asked with a placid look on his face. ¡±Uh¡­ yeah.¡± James replied. Zhu let out a surprised chuckle like an engine backfiring. ¡°Hello. Welcome to problem solving with James. Get used to this.¡± ¡±Is this a James thing or a paladin thing?¡± Taio asked, with a brief pause to make sure he didn¡¯t speak over anyone else. ¡°Both.¡± James and Zhu said in unison, before James continued. ¡°But yeah. They¡¯re a group that survived contact with the paranormal, they took losses trying to do what was ultimately the right thing, and they¡¯re probably all going to be living in fear of the fallout that isn¡¯t coming. People who are afraid make stupid choices. Just ask El. Cutting that off now is a good idea. Having local contacts is a good idea. And minimizing loose ends is also a really good idea, given how often those bite us in the ass.¡± Across the table, Ishah started to shift, triangular chitin plated muzzle starting to look down at himself before his assignment whispered that ¡®bit in the ass¡¯ was a metaphor. Jim didn¡¯t look convinced though. ¡°They are criminals though, right? Like, you are talking about making friends with thugs with guns.¡± ¡±¡­You realize that the Order is, like, fifty percent illegal immigrants, right?¡± James asked. ¡°Also you work with the rogues, your literal job is illegal. You¡¯re criming right now, doing a conspiracy.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°Illegal isn¡¯t evil or unethical by default. There¡¯s lots of problems with how we approach crime anyway. And yeah, they¡¯re probably not perfect people. Who fucking cares? They did actually play a part in fighting Status Quo, and those guys are way worse.¡± Jim shrugged like he was dismissing his protest, but protested defensively anyway. ¡±Just saying. Be prepared for this to go wrong.¡± ¡±We are always prepared for that.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said. ¡°The information you requested is in your personal storage.¡± That had been fast, even with the skulljacks, and James was impressed. Though in reality, Knife-In-Fangs had just messaged someone in Recovery to send it on, which was still its own form of impressive. The whole Order was built on asking for help, after all. ¡°That is my presentation. Ishah?¡± The ratroach nodded his furless head, standing up to talk and reminding James that Ishah had reshaped his body into one that was barely five feet tall. Lots of ratroaches seemed to be going for that with the shaper substance treatment; intentionally making smaller forms for a variety of different reasons. ¡°Y-yes. Hello. My name is Ishah, and I have been working with our scout groups on Utah and Missouri. And technically Japan.¡± James couldn¡¯t hide a grin. Both at how Ishah was delivering a security report the same way he¡¯d done presentations in middle school, and at how he said ¡®technically¡¯ in exactly the same way Taio had earlier. But then his smile cracked and faltered as he couldn¡¯t help but remember what was in Missouri, and technically Japan. ¡°Underburbs first please.¡± He asked quietly, feeling Zhu¡¯s feathers tighten up around his waist and neck. ¡°Yes. P-planner, can you show us the map?¡± One of Planner¡¯s tentacles rose out of the surrounding manifestation to form a box, which slowly filled in with a topographical view of Missouri. ¡°The beacons originally left in the¡­ the¡­¡± Ishah tilted his muzzle upward, all four blunted sets of claws tapping a considering pattern on the tabletop. ¡°Payload? The part of this world sent into the Underburbs. All those beacons.¡± He waved a claw as he started to build a comfortable momentum. ¡°They were tracked to roughly within this area.¡± He pointed at the southern part of the state as Planner ¡®zoomed in¡¯ for them. ¡°Two delver teams have been in the area, with assistance from rogue and recovery, on and off for¡­ for¡­ two months.¡± His muzzle twitched. ¡°Two days ago, I found this.¡± ¡±Oh, you¡¯re working on this?¡± James raised his eyebrows. ¡°Actually, sorry, I don¡¯t want to derail this too far¡­¡± ¡±You aren¡¯t allowed to.¡± Jim grunted at him. ¡±¡­But I didn¡¯t know you were working with¡­ Recovery?¡± ¡±No, delver.¡± The hide around Ishah¡¯s eyes, uncovered by the chitin plate that made up most of his face, flushed green. He started to talk again before his informorph coiled around his neck and whispered to him softly. ¡°I am¡­ it is personal. We can speak later.¡± He turned back to the map. ¡°Planner?¡± The map split into two identical views of the region of the US. ¡°Look.¡± James and Zhu leaned forward, eyes looking for what had changed. ¡°What¡¯re we looking for here? Oh, one of these is from a decade ago?¡± ¡±Yes. And this one¡­¡± Another copy of the region. ¡°Is older.¡± Ishah traced a claw across the projection, two hands framing a specific spot while another hand pointed to the notes in front of them. ¡°The state is growing. The border¡­ this line here¡­¡± James tried not to laugh at how funny it struck him as that Ishah explained what the border was, ¡°¡­this stays the same. But inside, miles and miles are added in. You can see how it changes average elevation, here. Something is growing inside.¡± He looked back at the table who were paying close attention to him. ¡°A-and¡­ and¡­ it is the same in the Nara district of Japan. I¡¯m looking for more, just in case.¡± ¡±Jesus Christ.¡± Jim¡¯s voice was full of muffled dread. ¡±That¡¯s a problem.¡± Taio spoke bluntly. ¡°Is it the dungeon then? Is it eating places? No¡­ that wouldn¡¯t make sense.¡± Knife-In-Fangs hissed angrily as he spoke. ¡°We know that dungeons can extend out. The Ceaseless Stacks is actually the whole library, the original outside building incorporated into dungeon territory. But it has gone no further. This is a lot. It is building more dungeon outside of the dungeon, correct?¡± The camraconda looked at James with clear worry after getting a nod of agreement from Ishah. ¡°I vote to prioritize this over New York.¡± ¡±I¡¯m with you there.¡± James muttered, drumming his fingers in front of his face. ¡°So we know where it is? How are these maps even seeing it?¡± ¡±They are seismic surveys.¡± Ishah said with the tone of someone who had skill ranks that didn¡¯t quite fully link up to the rest of their knowledge. ¡°They are measuring area and material composition, and seeing more and more area each year. This gets us closer. B-but not to the entrance.¡± James frowned. ¡°Well, I¡¯m still thinking this is a high priority. What about Utah?¡± ¡±Oh. There are strange things happening within the city. Disappearances, missing days, odd sightings. There is also a¡­ a church group? I think is the term? They have claws in the government, and Charlie and Alice said it is normal, so we are looking for memory modifications now. But it is becoming dangerous, and we have found nothing. You might though.¡± ¡±It¡¯s true, the last time this happened, you got me, and a bonus city as a prize.¡± Zhu said. Taio frowned, but said nothing, Knife-In-Fangs didn¡¯t bother keeping quiet. ¡°Thousands of humans died.¡± He chastized the navigator. ¡°Do not joke.¡± ¡±Yeah, Zhu.¡± James felt his heart getting heavy. ¡°Not the time. Though it is true that having someone shoving their nose into everything at the same time that things are heating up is a good way to uncover secrets. So that¡¯s good to know. Might finally find that stupid dungeon and get spells more useful than spawning towels. Anything else on this front?¡± Ishah shook his head, antenna twitching back and forth, before he sat down again and made a clear effort to not itch at his fur with his soft claws. Jim stood up instantly, not waiting for an introduction, and launched into his own thing. ¡±Mine¡¯s simple. There¡¯s an ecoterrorist group in Alaska that¡¯s a little too heavy on the terrorist and mostly missing the eco these days. Personally, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re important. There¡¯s worse people doing worse stuff, if we really want to shoot someone. But, we know they¡¯ve got Wolfpack contracted, and more importantly, we know something was done to them. The question that actually matters is, who did it, and how. That we need to know, before it¡¯s done to us. I know Planner is supposedly the best in the world at keeping us from being found, but if there¡¯s some kind of brain bomb out there, they might not need to find us to wipe us out, and personally, I think we should get a yes or no on that before we go hunting for another dungeon. Especially a dungeon as lethal as the Underburbs, when it¡¯s not actively hunting us.¡± ¡±It¡¯s growing!¡± Ishah protested. ¡±It¡¯s growing inside its territory.¡± Jim countered. ¡°It¡¯s not on street maps, right? It¡¯s not capturing suburbs and eating everyone in them?¡± ¡±I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± The ratroach stammered, unprepared for how forceful the human was being. ¡°I can find out?¡± He squeaked. Jim looked back at James. ¡°I¡¯m prepared to be wrong. But it would be easier to set something up to bait out whoever is using these folks. And it does seem like they¡¯re being used, even if they¡¯re passive right now. If we don¡¯t do anything else, we should steal the CISWS they have.¡± ¡±The what? The cisswiss?¡± Knife-In-Fangs hissed in irritation. ¡°I am going to make Research program me a voice that can say letters.¡± He snapped. ¡±It¡¯s an anti-air gun, right?¡± James asked. ¡°We put them on battleships. How the fuck¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡°Actually, I guess that¡¯s the point, huh? Get intelligence on them so we can figure out how the fuck, among other things. Alright. Well, good to know about if nothing else. Taio? Anything else?¡± ¡±Oh, in light of these, my option seems weakest. There is a Camille in this city. Our Camille believes her sister is hunting her, which means that Cam is limited in her own activities, and is becoming bored.¡± Taio frowned as he looked at his own notes. ¡°Also any of the daughters of the Last Line finding us would be potentially catastrophic. So dissuading or eliminating her would be¡­ an option.¡± Ishah¡¯s voice was a high pitched squeak as he interjected. ¡°Or welcome her.¡± He said, before staring down at the table as the others looked his way. ¡°I¡­ I mean¡­¡± ¡±No, you¡¯re right.¡± Taio reassured the ratroach rapidly. ¡°I forgot my training for a moment. I apologize. But whatever you choose, it is important that she be dealt with.¡± ¡±Yeah, we wouldn¡¯t want a single girl to get bored.¡± Jim commented with a single little laugh. James narrowed his eyes and was about to say something when Zhu spoke up. ¡°The first Camille we knew once threw a piece of rebar through a car. The whole car. And everyone inside. Another Camille continued fighting against an army of enhanced agents after her arm had been detonated at the shoulder. Cam, who lives here, and who will probably watch this briefing, is a trained intelligence operative who is both bulletproof and capable of punching through brick walls.¡± The navigator let his glowing orange feathers floof out around James¡¯ clothing before settling down in rippling rows of manifested light. ¡°Cam says she doesn¡¯t get bored. But personally, I think the most dangerous person in the entire building would be better off if she wasn¡¯t bored.¡± ¡±¡­Touche.¡± Jim conceded the point. James cleared his throat. ¡°I was just gonna say that Cam could pick up a hobby or something. I bet she¡¯d be good at Dark Souls. But also more realistically, we shouldn¡¯t ever accept situations where our members are trapped inside out of fear of being murdered.¡± Jim held up his hands. ¡±Okay, okay, I get it, I¡¯m wrong.¡± He said with a clearly defensive tone. Deciding not to touch that right now, James just shook his head. ¡°Sure. So. I¡¯m pretty sure I know what I¡¯m gonna devote my time to for the near future, but I wanna hear opinions.¡± ¡°Utah.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said. ¡°People are searching Missouri, and the dungeon is stable there. Go where the chaos is. You do best there.¡± ¡°Still Alaska.¡± Jim said with a shrug. ¡°Long term security matters. I¡¯m glad you like chaos. I don¡¯t. So cut it off before it becomes a problem.¡± Ishah ran his claws down one of the sleeves of his navy blue suit jacket before looking up, still haloed by his infomorph friend. ¡°The world is big and scary.¡± The ratroach said. And then he smiled slightly, his muzzle shifting in a way that looked perfectly natural and painless as it revealed rows of clean teeth. ¡°There will always be big things that might hurt us. But there are small people that need help, now. Help Camille with her sister, or help the people in Utah.¡± He took a deep breath, his voice steadying as he got used to the new group. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what we do?¡± He asked. Taio nodded at Ishah as the ratroach finished speaking. ¡°I¡¯m with¡­ him? Him. Though I say Utah, because as we¡¯ve been here, I have realized that Nate is probably hunting the enemy Camille.¡± ¡±Oh. Oh!¡± Knife-In-Fangs bobbed down to thunk the top of his camera head on the surface of the old and worn meeting room table. ¡°Of course he is. That is exactly what the fucker would do without asking for help.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard a camraconda swear like that.¡± Taio said, looking like he wasn¡¯t sure if he was allowed to laugh. James sighed. ¡°He works in the kitchen.¡± He said, as if that explained anything. Though to anyone who had ever worked in a kitchen, maybe it did. ¡°Yeah, okay. So my objective list is going to include interrogating Nate, making contact in New York, and then heading down to Utah. Obviously we¡¯re not leaving everything else on the table, Jim don¡¯t have an aneurysm. Is our resource allocation to the different groups working on these issues okay? Is there anything I can do to help with that?¡± ¡±For the rogues in Alaska, we could use more units.¡± Knife-In-Fangs said. ¡°There are three people there now, and not near the site usually. Oh, skills for¡­ anything about that. Alaska skills. Whatever those are.¡± ¡±Have you been to Alaska?¡± Zhu asked suddenly. ¡±No. I want to. It sounds like a dungeon.¡± Knife-In-Fangs gave a forlorn and sibilant hiss. James opened his mouth, then closed it again. ¡°I mean¡­¡± ¡±No it doesn¡¯t.¡± Jim cut him off. ¡°But it does have glaciers, and there¡¯s some great places for camping. We can talk later.¡± James laughed at the sudden shift in interest from the man. ¡±Alright. Anything else?¡± ¡±Someone told me we used to have programs searching for strange things. Why don¡¯t we now?¡± Ishah asked. ¡°Is there a reason?¡± ¡±There was an incident.¡± James said, and the ratroach deflated as he assumed that was the end of that. ¡°But you should talk to Momo or maybe Nik. Someone in Research. I think they¡¯re working on it. I don¡¯t actually know who runs our software side of things, but in the last general vote for different Order actions, they decided to try something with that again.¡± Ishah gave James a grateful nod. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, standing up. ¡°I¡¯ll double check that everyone has everything they need today. But right now¡­¡± he checked the time through his skulljack, ¡°I¡¯ve got a thing to get to.¡± As Planner coiled back up around them, pulling back projections and notes, the infomorph twitched slightly. Pale blue ghostly manifestation seeming to not line up quite right for just a moment. ¡°What are you going to?¡± Planner asked. ¡°It isn¡¯t on your schedule.¡± ¡±Not everything goes on my schedule Plan.¡± James said quietly. ¡°This is a personal thing, okay?¡± ¡±Mmmh.¡± That wasn¡¯t actually a comforting response, as far as James was concerned. But Planner didn¡¯t push it, and James wasn¡¯t actually prepared to make a big deal out of what might be nothing. So instead he addressed the four people who had been voted onto this little security council. ¡°Well thanks to all of you for coming, and for your work here. This seems like a good trial run, so get ready to do this a lot more often after next month when the others get back from their rumspringa.¡± ¡±You made that word up.¡± Knife-In-Fangs accused him. ¡±I promise I didn¡¯t, but it is a fun one, isn¡¯t it?¡± James grinned at the camraconda. ¡°I¡­ I will prepare better for next time!¡± Ishah declared in a shaking squeak that made James want to offer the ratroach a reassuring hug and tell him that he¡¯d done fine. ¡±You did fine.¡± He told Ishah with a smile. ¡°This was helpful for making a proactive choice, which I¡¯m trying to do more often. I¡¯m tired of being the one responding to the surprising crisis. I want to be the surprising crisis this time.¡± James grumbled. ¡°Anyway. Gotta get headed back to the Lair. I¡¯ll check with our vault about any useful skills and get back to everyone who asked about Alaska.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. He headed out, holding the door open for the others. Kind of a short meeting, but that was largely the point. It turned out there actually was a skill to these things; not just a skill, but a skill rank, that anyone could grab a point in pretty easily. Avoiding cross talk and having a slight instinct for what to prepare for was just enough to cut about thirty percent off of any gathering. James felt like he had a clear direction now. And while the rest of his day, and maybe the next couple days too, was a little relaxed, it felt really good to experience the novel sensation of picking a target on purpose. Now, though, he needed to see if anyone wanted to teleport with him back to the Lair to save on telepad pages. He had a thing to get to. _____ Returning to the Lair got James hit in the shins with a metal pole. As far as greetings went, it was somewhere on the low end. But it was also El doing it, and this time at least seemed like an accident; since her first real greeting to James had been gunfire, this was a step up. He didn¡¯t make a joke about it though. He liked to think he and El were cool now, and since she was making a real effort to be less of an asshole to people, he was making an effort to stop needling her with old jokes. ¡±Well, that¡¯s what I get for walking on the ground.¡± He said instead as Zhu shivered on his shoulder and El and Momo dropped what they were doing to make sure they hadn¡¯t actually kneecapped him. ¡°What the hell are you two doing?¡± He asked partly because they¡¯d just run into him, but mostly because he really wanted to know what was up with the burnished steel scaffolding they seemed to be lugging through the Lair¡¯s front room. They¡¯d only hit him, which was acceptable damage, but there was a bunch of stuff here that James didn¡¯t actually want damaged by their antics. Like the small wall of terrariums full of lizards and frogs, or literally any of the valuable stockpiled magic behind the front desk. ¡±It¡¯s Momer¡¯s fault.¡± El threw her girlfriend under the bus with a practiced reflex. ¡±Hey!¡± Momo shot up from where she was stooped over pulling scattered metal rods back into a pile. ¡°That¡¯s true!¡± James and El stared at her, waiting for a followup, but none came. Shaking his head, James turned back to El, having used the intervening moment of giving Momo a hard time to send a message over his skulljack. ¡°I¡¯ve called for an intern and a hand cart.¡± He said. ¡°Seriously, though, what are you two doing?¡± ¡±Testing a theory!¡± Momo declared, sweeping her palms over her bathrobe and smoothing it out in a flourish. ¡°Which is less of a theory, and more of a practical form of checking instructions received from a magical doodad for validity. Which requires¡­ uh¡­ this.¡± She broke off as a pair of teenagers jogged out of the nearest stairwell door, panting heavily as one of them lugged a hand cart after him. ¡°Uh¡­ thanks?¡± She said as they started helping her load the metal rods into a box that could then be wheeled around. James grinned. He remembered being that age and being so eager to show off how competent he was. Bonus points to these two, but working with Bill and Mark on the Order¡¯s ongoing construction team had clearly taught them a level of competence that James never even approached as a kid. El, though, just watched with a small grimace on her face. ¡°Hey, I¡¯ll catch up.¡± She told Momo. ¡°I gotta ask James a thing.¡± Momo shot her a double thumbs up before ordering the kids to follow her to the roof, some kind of apparatus tucked under her arm, her usual cadre of floating pencils orbiting her head. El watched her go, then let out a huff of breath when they were out of sight into the back warehouse where the roof access was. ¡°Hey.¡± She told James. ¡±No but seriously, before you ask me, what the hell are you two doing.¡± Zhu fluttered across James¡¯ neck. ¡°I also really want to know, because it looks very stupid, and I¡¯m into it. Also, is Speaky with you today?¡± ¡±Kid¡¯s downstairs in the baths.¡± El said, tension easing. ¡°Easily distracted, too, if you-¡° Zhu roiled up James¡¯ arm, feathers and talons and eye losing definition as he reshaped his manifestation into a simple spear of orange light, shooting away toward the stairs and zipping between the legs of five or six various people on the way. ¡±Have fun!¡± James called after him, before looking back at El. ¡°So, do I actually get an explanation?¡± ¡±Oh, it¡¯s a lightning rod.¡± She said. ¡°Sorry man, my head fucking hurts and I¡¯m stressed out. Uh. You know that tablet? Well, it does tell you how to make things, apparently. Mome¡¯s been testing it out on everything that isn¡¯t on fire.¡± The corner of El¡¯s mouth twitched upward. ¡°As a joke, I told her to give it a real challenge and give it a piece of art. So she did. And now she¡¯s trying to¡­ I dunno, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s her rubbing it in my face, but I don¡¯t think she thought this through.¡± ¡±I feel like there¡¯s a whole ocean of depth here that I¡¯m missing.¡± James admitted. ¡°Sorry, what does the tablet¡­ no, wait.¡± He stopped himself from asking the woman who was probably least likely to give him a concise technical definition, and just looked it up through his skulljack on the Order¡¯s server. They hadn¡¯t named the tablet that came out of the Ceaseless Stacks yet, but it wasn¡¯t hard to find the record. In theory, it worked on a very simple principle; you ¡®pointed¡¯ it at a thing, and it told you how to make that thing. In practice, it told you with a jumble of pictographic language that looked ripped straight out of a technical manual from hell. It also took a while to analyze things, though the time it took spiked massively if you told it to look at something magic. Momo¡¯s experiments hadn¡¯t had a lot of time to bear fruit, but there were two important things that she¡¯d uncovered in the last couple weeks. First off, you could specifically ask for mass production instructions, which would be even harder to understand, and at least for her efforts on copying a mundane number two pencil, had provided something that was less efficient than just buying the current mundane equipment available on Earth. Second, it was only inefficient if you weren¡¯t the person who had asked in the first place, and you weren¡¯t following directions exactly. If you did, somehow, parse what was being asked of you, and did it, then stuff just worked out. There was a picture of a number two pencil Momo had made by hand, and it looked like it had just come out of a factory sealed package. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°So, this is¡­ so you¡¯re helping Momo build a Rube Goldberg machine that will end with art happening. Got it.¡± He nodded, fully accepting that this was just what his life was now. ¡°Anyway, you had a question and you don¡¯t look like you¡¯re doing okay. What¡¯s up?¡± Any small hint of a smile left El¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m mostly just helping because she¡¯s hiding how much pain she¡¯s in.¡± Her breathing stuttered unconsciously as she tugged on the braid she was wearing her hair in today. ¡°It¡¯s been a couple months by now, but that hit she took on the Climb isn¡¯t getting better. And I can¡¯t get her to go see the doc.¡± ¡±Fuck.¡± James looked after where Momo had strutted off, trying to remember if she¡¯d been limping. Probably she was walking that way to cover for it, and he hadn¡¯t noticed. ¡°Want me to talk to her?¡± ¡±Is there some secret way to get her to go get an MRI that you know but I don¡¯t?¡± ¡±Uh, yeah.¡± James said, thinking about what would work on him when he was neck deep in his own anxiety and depression. ¡°Don¡¯t ask her. Schedule it, and then tell her she has an appointment day-of.¡± He saw the way El looked at him, deeply uncomfortable with the thought. ¡°Yeah, I know. It¡¯s fucking uncomfortable. But it¡¯ll get her to go. Fuck¡¯s sake, I didn¡¯t realize how bad it was.¡± ¡±She keeps lying about it.¡± El said flatly. ¡°Because she¡¯s an ass- no, that¡¯s not even it. Dammit. She just doesn¡¯t want people to worry, and she doesn¡¯t give a shit about herself. I lummmph.¡± El swallowed a word, looking off toward the frog wall, before shaking her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want her getting even more fucked up, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡±Sure.¡± James decided to say it amicably and not sarcastically. ¡°I get that. Look, I¡¯m headed down to medical, I¡¯ll get someone to give you a call, okay?¡± El rubbed her hand across the side of her neck and what looked like a small tattoo there that James hadn¡¯t seen before as the tension seeped out of her. ¡°Thanks man.¡± She said gratefully. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go make sure my girlfriend doesn¡¯t fucking fall off the roof.¡± ¡±Wait!¡± James called after her. ¡°Didn¡¯t you two have wings last week?!¡± ¡±We ditched ¡®em for now! Momo got tired of knocking things off shelves and I got tired of being told I looked like Magic card art!¡± El twisted to walk backward as she slipped through the door. ¡°I think there was an argument on if it was ethical to make them into soup or something! I dunno, ask the kitchen!¡± ¡±Nope.¡± James said to himself as El vanished from sight. ¡°I will not do that.¡± He didn¡¯t know how to feel about the wing thing in general. The Climb spell that spawned the limbs - real, physical, made-of-meat-and-bone limbs - was hefty enough in cost to be dangerous to the user. But the fact that it offered you your own personal flight form, that was magically assisted in a small way? That was nothing short of wondrous. It was hard to imagine having that, and just letting the spell drop off, even if it did make it hard to get through doors. Especially since the wings didn¡¯t dissolve or anything; they fell off, in a way that he was pretty sure would leave scars too. Part of him did wish he¡¯d taken the spell anyway, instead of the nine other spells he¡¯d filled his slots with, but James didn¡¯t really know what he¡¯d do with it. His magic from the Climb was either him testing stuff and diving into choices he couldn¡¯t take back and then just had to live with, like with Thermodynamic Tunnel or Rot Eyes, or it was stuff that was carefully picked to make him more dangerous in a fight and more useful in a crisis, like Mountain of the Self or Frost Vector. And yes, of course, he¡¯d taken the spell that made a cat out of snow. He wasn¡¯t immune to a little whimsy. And maybe he did regret not filling this goofing off slot with wings sometimes. But the cat seemed to enjoy its own adventures, and James was happy to let it play in the world every chance he got. Since it was too late to change his mind, he was gonna be happy with his choice anyway. He¡¯d ascend farther up Winter¡¯s Climb sooner or later anyway, and get a tenth slot. And more, after. The only problem would be when they inevitably got more books to go with it and he¡¯d have even more choices. For now it was a moot point, and he was gonna be late if he spent any more time standing in the lobby shaking his head. So he took advantage of a lucky elevator arrival, and got a quick ride down to the basement that had the Order¡¯s medical department in it. Getting there was easier than it had been previously. Instead of having to navigate the halls to find the heart of Research and then map from there to the side door that led to the expansive magically replicated medical wing, James took the side entrance. Added to the medical wing by a green orb from one of the new recruits, the effect had mixed with the expanded circular courtyard around the elevator and added a convenient set of double doors. Now, when anyone stepped out of the lift, they¡¯d clearly see two points of a five way hub with one direction leading into the basement and one directly to medical. It solved one of the bigger problems James had with shoving their important emergency care site into the back of a basement; accessibility. That had been on the list for a while, but this just kind of¡­ took care of it. They¡¯d still had to rearrange medical to put the front desk by the ¡®side¡¯ entrance, but that was easy in comparison. He gave a pet to Tyrannodonny as he walked past the row of mostly inanimate potted plants that concealed the harsh concrete of the walls. The artificial flowering life form twitching slightly as it let him past without issue. The Order of Endless Rooms¡¯ medical wing was filled with magic. But you might not know it to look at it. If anyone ended up here, they¡¯d likely be fooled into thinking it was a perfectly ordinary hospital, with clean linoleum floors, soft white walls, and halls lined with diagnostic equipment on wheeled dollies for easy transport between rooms and locked cabinets of supplies. But it didn¡¯t take too much looking to see where the weird stuff started. For one thing, the front desk had a ratroach in training today, working with the two human nurses and single human administrative aide. They were someone James didn¡¯t recognize, but that was becoming increasingly common, as there were about fifty ratroaches with the Order now, and he barely remembered the names of his own friends sometimes. Past that, there was the fact that the hospital was actually a series of perfectly identical rooms, with hallways and connecting spaces extended well past what should have been possible. Technically, this entire place existed inside of a broom closet. The fact that the side door connected to it at all was impossible; if that door had opened to anything that wasn¡¯t solid rock it should have led to a boiler room. And if you stayed long enough, you¡¯d probably meet Mercy, the pinkish-white mile long serpent with a hundred eyes and soft whiskers that prowled the hallways and helped out with keeping patients informed and comfortable. You might also be prescribed a purple orb that would remove your cancer or unbreak your bone, or a potion that would heal your lungs or skin. And if you were in really, really bad shape, in a kind of chronic way¡­ You might end up on the list for reshaping. Which was why James was meeting up with Alanna down here, and visiting a friend of theirs today. ¡°Hey orb butt.¡± Alanna greeted him, grabbing at the mentioned part of his anatomy as she slipped behind him while he waited in ¡®line¡¯ at the admin desk. James held back a grin as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to affect an offended tone and mostly failing. ¡°Oh come on, I¡¯ve been exercising, and eating salads and stuff! My butt isn¡¯t that bad!¡± ¡±I¡¯m gonna level with you,¡± Alanna told him, not relinquishing her grip on his ass, ¡°I don¡¯t actually know what an orb-shaped rear would look like, and I also don¡¯t actually know how people measure if these stupid things are attractive. I¡¯m just digging for nicknames for you.¡± ¡±Fair enough.¡± James nodded. ¡°Hey, you go ahead, I need to do a thing that is technically private information. I¡¯ll catch up in a second.¡± He told her, and Alanna saluted before ruffling his hair and setting off down one of the medical area¡¯s clean hallways. He shook his head with a smile as he watched her move. Alanna had always been a strong person, and James felt like he might have loved her for about as long as he¡¯d know her. But for a lot of their younger years, that strength was an awkward thing; something she¡¯d tried to cover up or push away. He saw it reflected a bit whenever she hung out with her younger sisters, too. And even when they¡¯d first started delving, her body had been something that had just been useful to her, nothing more. Now, though, she walked with a kind of confidence and satisfaction in her own movement that spoke of someone who was willing to take on the world. Which was good, cause sometimes, that¡¯s what the job called for. After talking to Aaron, one of the medical staff on duty, James quickly got a note put in to give El and or Momo a call. He did ask that they not be too harsh on her for not getting checked up, and Aaron had just given him a flat look and informed him that they were trying this novel thing called being good doctors down here. James didn¡¯t feel too offended. He was halfway to being a good doctor himself, in a way. A lot of people were. Heck, half the people who worked here weren¡¯t people who¡¯d gone to school for this; they were people who had benefited from the Order¡¯s commitment to a library of useful yellow orbs. Biology, anatomy, surgery, diagnosis, medication, chemistry, operation of medical equipment, they could turn a random person into a competent doctor fit to work in an ER anywhere in the world in about five minutes if they had the copies ready to go. Skulljack .mem files for sharing personal experiences with hospital work or med school. There were even some purple orbs from the Ceaseless Stacks that improved how quickly someone could learn to use an IV needle and an EKG. A very specific model of EKG, but still. Other Stacks yellows that were known gave ranks in different kinds of rodent and serpent, which just added to the ability of the Order over time to provide medical care to the ratroach and camraconda populations. And on top of that, most people who worked here were bonded to an authority; the small and odd form of infomorph growing with them as they fulfilled their job responsibilities, adapting to different forms of action that could have serious effects on the physical world when needed. The Order of Endless Rooms had some very good doctors. And many of them were people who were filling in for the really good doctors. Just a casual thing on their free day, to help out. James wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever get used to that. Maybe when they found a way to efficiently spread that knowledge around. In the meantime, he headed deeper into one of the long halls lined with comfortable and well stocked rooms. James knew where he was going, he¡¯d been to visit this particular patient a lot. Alanna had beaten him there, of course, and was already sitting with her legs crossed on a padded chair next to Banana¡¯s bed. The part crow, part wasp, all artificially designed suicide weapon from the Akashic Sewer that Alanna had brought back and who had been living under medical observation for almost a year, was currently in the process of trying to talk excitedly. ¡±Eg-h-h-h-ha!¡± Her buzzing physical voice caught and repeated on a difficult consonant sound as she waved her extended wing arms up and down. The feathered elytra that was kept tight around her back and torso when at rest currently out, and flailing. ¡°Eggs!¡± Her digital voice repeated with a lot less raw enthusiasm, her constant practice with the new skulljack translation program making her better than ever at communicating, but still a learner. ¡°Sh-aarrrrrrk eg-h-h¡­¡± Her beak snapped at the air in aggravation. ¡°Shark eggs! They lay eggs! And they are weird!¡± ¡°You¡¯re weird.¡± James said as he entered and settled his arms on the top of Alanna¡¯s head, only having to raise himself up slightly to reach what with her being seated. ¡°Hey Banana!¡± ¡±Aaames!¡± The crow-wasp buzzed, scooting herself forward in her seated position as her damaged legs twisted up in the blanket. She swapped back to digital to decry him. ¡°Alanna! James is being mean!¡± Alanna nodded, making James bob up and down from his resting spot. ¡°He sure is.¡± She said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to get your revenge after you¡¯re feeling better. I¡¯ll show you all his weak spots.¡± She tried to put a smile in her voice, but there was a clear strain there for James to hear, even if Banana probably wouldn¡¯t catch it. The crow-wasp girl just nodded back, her head moving in sharp motions like she was slicing invisible targets in half with her beak. Her head tilted so her one surviving eye could focus fully on the duo. ¡°I will¡­ will¡­¡± her voice was like it was being forced out of her chest, the squawking notes still understandable if a little distorted. ¡°Whennnn I am better.¡± She titled her head, the custom skulljack braid plugged into the back of her neck bobbing before her digital voice added, ¡°One hour, eight minutes, fifteen seconds.¡± ¡±Yeah, she found a countdown timer.¡± Alanna told James with a snort. ¡°Personally, I think that¡¯s the least healthy way to prepare for surgery, but what do I know?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you have a skill rank in surgery of some kind?¡± ¡±Setting bones doesn¡¯t count.¡± ¡±Szzzharks don¡¯t have bones.¡± Banana told them confidently. James grinned widely at her. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta say, I love getting animal facts every time I come say hi.¡± He tried to keep his smile from turning worried as he cleared his throat. ¡°You feeling ready for getting fixed up, kiddo?¡± Banana flicked her head in another slicing nod. She wasn¡¯t afraid. She had not just one, but two stuffed sharks now, which she stacked atop each other and held in front of her to show the humans. How could anyone be afraid when they had two stuffed sharks? ¡±You want us to stick around until Deb shows up to really get you started?¡± Alanna asked. Banana nodded again, maybe a little too fast for someone who wasn¡¯t afraid. But, really, why should she be afraid? Alanna counted as maybe four or five sharks on her own. As long as Alanna was here with her, Banana would be fine, and maybe she wouldn¡¯t have to do anything scary after all! That potentially comforting illusion lasted for about fifteen minutes, as James quizzed Banana on trivia about hyenas and actually advanced his biology lesson by about fifteen points doing it. At that point, though, one of the nurses came in to talk to Banana, and to get an IV set in her extended wing. And suddenly, it wasn¡¯t something she could put off thinking about anymore. ¡±I get it.¡± Alanna said, moving to sit on the edge of the deluxe hospital bed next to the Sewer creation who was currently trying to pretend she wasn¡¯t crying. It had been a long, long time since she would have had a second thought about the fact that Banana wasn¡¯t human, and now, she followed the same kind of instincts she used on her sisters whenever they were having a bad day. One hand coming up to rub at the back of Banana¡¯s neck, her other hand taking one of the layered keratin talons and holding it carefully. ¡°Do you want me to tell you that you don¡¯t have to be scared?¡± ¡±Yes¡­¡± Banana¡¯s voice was a tiny buzzing answer. ¡±Sorry kid.¡± Alanna shook her head. ¡°It is scary. And I don¡¯t like lying to people.¡± She sighed and looked over at James as he settled on the other side of the bed, balancing out her weight a little. ¡°Do you know how often I¡¯m scared?¡± She asked Banana. The girl looked down at her talons, especially the one that Alanna was keeping her from using to pick at the spot where a needle was going into her skin. ¡°Never?¡± She asked, carefully constructing the word to say out loud, trying to rely as little as possible on the skulljack. There was a moment where James almost laughed at how casually she¡¯d walked into Alanna¡¯s trap, but a quick look from his girlfriend that casually requested his silence had him just shaking his head instead. ¡°A lot.¡± Alanna said. ¡°All the time. Do you remember when I found you?¡± Banana curled backward slightly, not actually wanting to remember at all. It had been a long time, she was so much older now, she¡¯d gotten so much better, her therapist told her she was doing good. But it still hurt to remember. But she did, and gave Alanna another jerking nod. ¡°I was so afraid of you.¡± Alanna murmured softly. Banana jerked against her, trying to pull back. ¡°Nnnnno!¡± The girl practically demanded, switching and overlapping voices. ¡°No you weren¡¯t!¡± ¡±Oh, I was! But you know what? Doing the right thing anyway was worth it.¡± Alanna pulled Banana closer, utterly unconcerned with the fact that she was hugging a creature that was made to be a weapon, and only caring about how Banana needed a hug. ¡°It¡¯s okay to be afraid. But it¡¯s also okay to want to overcome it. You¡¯re gonna do great. You¡¯re smart, and you¡¯ve got a plan, right? You¡¯re gonna be able to walk and talk and see, and not have a heart that¡¯s so eager to fucking detonate that you have to live here.¡± James cut in. ¡°Oh! When you have your own actual room, you¡¯ll have even more room for posters!¡± He motioned around to where the hospital room wall, already mostly covered by cabinets, hookups, medical waste bins, and charts, had been filled in most of its available space by different lineups of big cats or sea life. ¡±¡­like posters¡­¡± Banana¡¯s s¡¯s buzzed softly as she conceded the point. ¡°¡­sztill szcared¡­¡± she trembled against Alanna as the bigger woman held her in a hug. ¡°What iiiifff¡­.¡± James stroked his chin, ¡°what if I was scared instead? Then you can be fine, and I¡¯ll just go hide under some blankets somewhere.¡± ¡±Nnnno!¡± Banana¡¯s squawked giggle got real smiles out of James and Alanna. ¡°That¡¯s not how things work!¡± She reprimanded them with her digital voice. ¡±It¡¯s too bad Arrush isn¡¯t here. He¡¯s really good at being scared instead of other people.¡± James mused. Banana pulled her head off Alanna¡¯s shoulder to turn and look at James. ¡°Why is he not here?¡± She asked in the digital tone, the lack of emotion making it hard to tell why she was asking. ¡±Oh.¡± James pursed his lips. ¡°He¡­ thinks he makes you nervous. He didn¡¯t want you to be worried.¡± ¡°Is he szcared?¡± Banana asked suddenly perking up, any complex social byplay buried under what Alanna recognized instantly as the familiar pattern of a younger sibling suddenly realizing they had a new way to tease their elder. James just laughed, and he and Alanna continued to distract the young girl until a knock on the sliding glass door signaled the arrival of a bunch of medical staff, Deb, Shimmer-Over-Horizon, and a couple of assistants coming in to do a final check, administer the first dose of the painkiller they¡¯d be using for the procedure, and to make sure Banana was ready before wheeling her bed away. ¡±You¡¯ve got this. Right?¡± Alanna insisted of Banana as the girl was laid down on the bed and halfway out the door. She offered a hand for a high five, getting one that would have sliced the skin open on anyone who wasn¡¯t as durable as her. ¡°Right. You¡¯ve got this.¡± Alanna repeated, as if saying it would force it to be true. Deb stayed behind for a minute as the crow-wasp was moved to the surgery site. ¡°Thanks for keeping her company.¡± She told them. ¡±Obviously.¡± Alanna gave a snort. ¡°What, was I gonna not be here?¡± Deb¡¯s mouth tilted into a small frown. ¡°About half the ratroaches don¡¯t have anyone there for them.¡± She said. ¡°Not that they don¡¯t have support in the Order, but we¡¯re moving faster now on turnaround, so there¡¯s less of a personal element.¡± James didn¡¯t like the sound of that. ¡°Hm. We could probably set up a thing for that, if¡­¡± ¡±You could. I think you¡¯ll have to race Mercy to it, since she seems invested.¡± Deb sighed. ¡°It¡¯s okay, though. We¡¯re getting better every day at this. Banana will do fine, the kid is smarter than she seems. Hyperfocused on what she finds fun, but she¡¯s not an idiot.¡± The doctor stepped without looking to let one of the nurses get past her and grab Banana¡¯s chart off the wall. ¡°Not that I¡¯m not worried. We almost had a casualty with the last reshaping, so I¡¯ll be ready to cut the process off if anything goes wrong.¡± ¡±What she¡¯s not telling you is that the ¡®almost¡¯ was because she jumped in and proved the skulljack guiding theory on the spot.¡± The nurse spoke up, before getting a glare from Deb and slinking out of the room. James raised his eyebrows. ¡°Wait, that does work?¡± ¡±That does work.¡± Deb confirmed. ¡°Badly. I didn¡¯t do a good job. They¡¯ll live, and they¡¯ll get another chance, but I had to¡­ prioritize.¡± She suddenly looked so very tired, but only for a moment before the pink and white form of her companion infomorph slithered into the room at ankle level and wrapped herself around Deb¡¯s lower body, radiating comfort to all of them. ¡°Banana will be easier, if I have to do that. Most of the changes she wanted are minimal, a lot of it is just bone density, repairs, arms¡­¡± ¡±Arms?!¡± James looked affronted, swooning with a hand over his chest at the declaration. ¡°What is my precious Order coming to?¡± Alanna tried and failed to swat him as he dodged agily around one of the visitor chairs. ¡°You just think humans are boring, don¡¯t be prejudice.¡± ¡±I do think humans are boring. Come on, don¡¯t you want to be half crow?¡± He asked his girlfriend. ¡±I don¡¯t have to answer that.¡± Deb shook her head. ¡°Alright, enough of your antics in my hospital. Get out. You¡¯re both listed as contacts, so you¡¯ll know the instant she¡¯s done, though she¡¯ll be kept under observation and isolation for a couple days after.¡± ¡±Isolation?¡± James narrowed his eyes. ¡°Why?¡± ¡±Precaution. In case someone messes up their immune system, we need time to run the tests to verify they¡¯re safe to be around people.¡± ¡°Shit, we¡¯ve been lucky so far, huh?¡± He sighed. Deb gave him a small half-grin. ¡°Not exactly. A lot of the ratroaches were just already immunocompromised. That¡¯s why we see so many infections in the new ones, and also why they get sick so often. And yes, if you didn¡¯t notice that, it¡¯s because they tend to hide it.¡± She let out an irate growl. ¡°I¡¯m working on it.¡± The doctor declared. ¡±You can work on it less aggressively.¡± Mercy murmured to her, the informorph¡¯s voice like a drop of honey in the air, coming from the kilometer long creature that somehow fit in the space. ¡±I could. Or I could get results.¡± Deb folded her arms at James and Alanna. ¡°Regardless. I have a dozen things to do, and you¡¯re not on the list. Get out of here so I can go make sure our red totems are set properly and get this girl her legs back.¡± James and Alanna made themselves scarce, heading out of the hospital and past the front desk where a swarm of people were trying to, as calmly as possible, get the engineer with a piece of metal shrapnel speared through his arm to lay down and let them do their jobs. ¡±That looks bad!¡± Alanna said cheerfully when they were out of the hospital. ¡±You know, I¡¯m super worried about Banana, because of course I am.¡± James said, trying to project a causal air. ¡°But, uh¡­ what the fuck are they doing down in Research? I didn¡¯t hear anything explode, but the soundproofing in this building is intense. Did you hear anything explode?¡± ¡±You¡¯re the one with the elf ears, buddy.¡± Alanna tugged at the sleeve of her teeshirt as they walked side by side through the basement. ¡°So! What now?¡± James thought about it for a minute. ¡°Well, in a couple days, I¡¯m headed to Utah.¡± He said, and Alanna nodded, already having grabbed a shared .mem of the public briefing James had been in. ¡°I don¡¯t know who¡¯s coming with me, but before then, I¡¯d like to do something fun and simple with everyone.¡± He grinned at her. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s the right day for it. Want to see if we can get Anesh and Sarah and Arrush in on a Library delve tonight?¡± Alanna stared blankly at him, stopping next to a poster on the wall that was either a weird student art project or stolen from a dungeon or both, and just standing there as James got a few steps farther down the concrete hall before she answered. ¡±¡­you have the dumbest fucking priorities. And I love you. And yes.¡± ¡±Great!¡± James rubbed his hands together. ¡°Okay. You go round up the others. I¡¯m gonna go yell at at least one engineer.¡± Anxiety aside, it felt good to be proactive. And now he had two things he could do today that would push both himself and the Order forward, bit by bit, into a better future. Strengthening himself and learning more on a dungeon delve, and getting some goddamn answers about why the fuck one of the Order¡¯s people was sitting in medical with a metal arrow through their body. And since James was trying his best to go into dungeon delves without any kind of violent intent, keeping his combat against any creations there to purely self defense, he could use some good practice not murdering people as he interrogated whoever had been involved in this latest Research incident. James and Alanna split off from each other with a shared kiss. Her to go round up gear and companions for that night, and him to hunt down unsuspecting Researchers. Both of them the closest either of them ever got to prayer, hoping for Banana¡¯s easy success. Chapter 280 "There is very little practical use for happiness however, and it''s mostly a waste product. We need some, but to ensure that my factory doesn''t come to a halt due to excessive joy, I need to bottle it first and then release it as steam." -DoshDoshington, How Hard is it to Beat ULTRACUBE?- _____ Nik and Reed were crouched next to one of the fixed tables in the potion testing lab. Installed early because not bumping valuable experiments onto the floor was a critical part of the scientific process, the heavy table was partly sunk into the floor, and had an enclosed cabinet underneath instead of open space. Currently, the entire sterile surface of it was taken up by a single enclosure that housed eighteen white lab rats. ¡±Well, they¡¯re not smart.¡± Nik ventured. ¡±They aren¡¯t not smart¡­¡± Reed countered, fighting back the urge to grab a handful of his curly hair and start yanking on it. Nik leaned in closer, watching a couple of the rats apparently playing with a small ball that was in their personal space. ¡°No, they¡¯re not smart. But. They¡¯re having a good time?¡± ¡±Oh, sure, yeah. By every metric humanity knows to measure ratroach happiness, they¡¯re-¡° ¡±Rat.¡± Nik cut him off. ¡°Rat happiness.¡± ¡±What did I say?¡± ¡±Ratroach?¡± ¡±¡­We don¡¯t have ways to measure ratroach happiness, do we?¡± Reed kept watching a small cluster of their test subjects as they shared food, one of them presenting the meal to the others and all of them beginning to gnaw on the small collection of kibble together. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve been working on the ratroach genome thing, and also hanging out with¡­ anyway I¡¯ve got them on the brain.¡± Nik shrugged. Honestly that was a much more boring reason than he¡¯d been hoping for. ¡±Happens. But you¡¯re right, they¡¯re happy rats.¡± ¡±Yeah¡­¡± The two of them went quiet, staring at the small rat utopia sitting down here in the Lair¡¯s basement. ¡°This is weird, right?¡± Reed finally said. ¡±I mean¡­¡± Nik waved an arm around them. ¡°We¡¯re sitting in an alchemy lab, where what we were supposed to be doing today was trying to isolate whether base elements work for potions. Weird is subjective.¡± Reed nodded without feeling it. ¡±Oh, yeah, I get you. But this is weird, right?¡± ¡±We have a blender that filters pure potassium out of bananas.¡± Nik said like that was an explanation. ¡±But this is weird, right?¡± ¡±It¡¯s not even a special blender.¡± Nik¡¯s voice was quietly resigned. Reed leaned back, settling on his heels. ¡°I just feel like the rats that are too happy are kinda weird.¡± Relenting, Nik sighed deeply, leaning an elbow on his knee and planting a fist on the side of his scraggly attempt at a beard. ¡°Fine, it¡¯s weird. So what? Something is making their lives better, though! This would be a lot easier if we could talk to the rats.¡± He froze slightly as he started flipping through the dungeontech database with his skulljack connection. ¡°Can we talk to rats? Is that an option? I¡¯m not finding anything but we need a better tag system.¡± ¡±We can¡¯t talk to rats.¡± Reed couldn¡¯t prove that, exactly, but he¡¯d half made and half been assigned the job of having his finger on the pulse of this place, and he felt like he would have heard about the rat communicator if it existed. ¡°What do you wanna do about the weird rats?¡± Nik took a deep breath. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s been months. There¡¯s no sign of adverse effects. I¡­ I think we should move to sophont testing?¡± He tried to cloak how eager he really was to get a new mess mixed up in everything. ¡±We don¡¯t even know what happened here. This is like saying that the Library ink slime that we¡¯ve got in the fishtank out there hasn¡¯t killed anyone all month, so maybe it¡¯s time to lick it.¡± Reed replied with a frown that was mostly aimed at the confusion around the rats, and not the rats themselves. Also a little bit at Nik, but he didn¡¯t want to stop watching the rats to glare at his fellow Researcher. ¡°Besides. After that one Climb spell test ruined a week¡¯s worth of sap, we don¡¯t have a potion budget right now for this.¡± ¡±Hey, I didn¡¯t ruin ¡®a whole week¡¯, I ruined like six succulents at most.¡± Nik shot back defensively, ignoring Reed¡¯s attempt at the passive voice. ¡°How about I test it? I¡¯ll bet we can find a few other volunteers!¡± ¡±Davis found volunteers for the one that makes you blow up glass you touch, it¡¯s not impressive that you can find volunteers for stupid shit around here.¡± It wasn¡¯t that Reed didn¡¯t love that about Research, but he also did want to temper it a little bit. Not everyone needed to go through emergency surgery or punch a warped hole in their ceiling just to try stuff out. He took a deep breath of the well filtered air down here in the potion section, and decided to not go too far with the tempering. ¡°But fine. It hasn¡¯t killed the rats. So go ahead and draft a testing plan and I¡¯ll start scheduling medical observation.¡± Both men started to nod at the world¡¯s most content rats when they were interrupted by a hand thunking into the edge of the table, and James looming over both of them. Nik yelped and fell sideways to land sprawled on one of his legs, while Reed just tried to make his heart stop trying to escape through his throat and played it off as being cool and collected that he hadn¡¯t even had time to react. ¡°What,¡± James asked calmly, ¡°are you two threats to national security doing?¡± ¡±Absolutely not mind control! Haha!¡± Nik scrambled up from the floor while Reed just grunted and pushed his heavier frame up on the edge of the table. Brushing himself off, Reed frowned down at the rats. ¡°Probably not mind control.¡± He said. ¡°But if it is, it might be okay? I dunno, you spend a lot of time reading philosophy books right? Is mind control unethical if it¡¯s willing and beneficial?¡± ¡±That¡­ Reed, I¡¯m here about the explosion, not for another existential crisis.¡± James palmed his forehead. ¡°But also that¡¯s a really interesting question!¡± His pitch rose as he tried to not get too into the conversation, and failed. ¡°I mean, we¡¯re using hypnosis to absorb the red orbs now, right? And it helps with the blues too! But even on a non-magical level, a lot of the same techniques are what gets used for cognitive behavior therapy which is critical for a lot of people in managing PTSD.¡± He leaned his back against the table, staring across the lab and the half dozen other rat enclosures as he waved a hand while talking. ¡°And then there¡¯s, like, Marlea. Who is sort of mind controlling herself? I dunno if that counts. There¡¯s a broad way to think about this that I like, which is the alarm clock question. If you set an alarm to wake you up, and then you wake up, did the clock control you? And is it different if there¡¯s no external clock, but just an internal compulsion?¡± ¡±I can sleep through an alarm.¡± Nik pointed out, scratching at his arm. ¡±Point is, we have a lot of methods of control that are external to ourselves. The only difference is that mind control would be more effective. And yeah, like you said, less ignorable.¡± James stopped, looking at the two Researchers with narrowed eyes. ¡°What do you mean, it¡¯s probably not mind control? And what does this have to do with the explosion?¡± Reed opened his mouth, then closed it, before mentally checking his notifications. ¡°Oh. Huh. Looks like something went wrong with one of the test turbines.¡± He said. ¡°Oof. Three hurt, two of them Order, all non-critical. Looks like it happened at the testing site with the outside engineering people, so we didn¡¯t hear.¡± He glanced at James. ¡°Sorry. I wasn¡¯t trying to, you know¡­¡± ¡±No, I get it.¡± James gave a long exhale, realizing he hadn¡¯t even thought to check the increasingly robust digital feed of information that the Order maintained. ¡°So everything¡¯s okay?¡± ¡±Well, a three hundred thousand dollar experimental turbine exploded¡­¡± ¡±But everyone¡¯s okay?¡± James asked. Nik laughed. ¡±Not the accountants.¡± He said, before fanning his hands defensively. ¡°Yes, everyone¡¯s fine, I realized as I was talking that there might be something that could hurt accountants via money, shut up.¡± James hadn¡¯t actually considered that, but he didn¡¯t want to get bogged down in another long debate. ¡°Please don¡¯t nonconsensually mind control anyone.¡± He said with a tired sigh. ¡°And please stop blowing up expensive equipment, we aren¡¯t that rich.¡± ¡±Oh, we didn¡¯t pay for it.¡± ¡°It was their equipment.¡± The two men replied at the same time. That didn¡¯t make it better, and they knew it. ¡±That¡­ oh, whatever.¡± James dropped it. ¡°Also what is up with the rats?¡± ¡±They¡¯re happy.¡± Nik said quickly. James paused midway into navigating through the lab¡¯s rows of tables. ¡°I know about that part. And?¡± Reed looked back at the rat enclosure. ¡°No, that¡¯s mostly it. We don¡¯t know exactly why, but they¡¯re having a great time. They don¡¯t fight each other, they take care of themselves and each other, they spend a lot of time actively playing and trying out different new things introduced to the enclosure¡­ they¡¯re at peak rat happiness.¡± ¡±¡­I¡­¡± James felt his voice hitch slightly. ¡°Can¡­ okay. Have fun with the happy rats. I¡¯ve gotta go.¡± He cut himself off before he could ask to be part of the human test subjects. He¡¯d already had a pretty bad experience with a potion designed to cure his depression. Which made him stop and duck back into the lab when he put that information in context. ¡°Actually, wait. If you do test this, you absolutely need to have skulljack support for whoever tries it. Because the last time¡­¡± ¡±Oh right, the inhabitors! Shit!¡± Reed¡¯s eyes got wide as he stared down at the rats. ¡°But they¡¯re¡­ hm. Okay. We can test for a few things. Nik, can you set up some time with the hospital¡¯s X-ray?¡± This time, as James left, he felt a lot better. Not perfect, but Reed and Nik taking it seriously was comforting. And now he could go do something a lot safer than hanging out in the potion lab; dungeon delving. _____ Sarah was sitting partly on her living room couch, and partly on Auberdeen who was conveniently napping in the right spot to be a dog shaped cushion, when Alanna found her. Alanna slipped up behind her girlfriend with an exaggerated tiptoe that turned out to be stealthy enough to get by a distracted Sarah¡¯s senses, and announced her presence by twining her arms underneath Sarah¡¯s and wrapping her in a tight hug. ¡±Hey beautiful.¡± Alanna said as Sarah let out a shrill ¡®eep¡¯. ¡°What¡¯cha up to?¡± ¡±How are you so sneaky?!¡± Sarah asked as Alanna pulled her back into the couch, flushing as her girlfriend trailed soft kisses up her neck. ¡°You make less noise than¡­ uh¡­¡± Alanna laughed. ¡±Yeah, we don¡¯t really know many sneaky people, do we?¡± Sarah ducked her head as Alanna let her go and circled the couch. ¡°I would have thought of one! I just don¡¯t evaluate people by their D&D class like James does.¡± Her eyes lit up and she intercepted Alanna before she could open her mouth. ¡°Wait, of course! Any of the rogues! I bet Ben is sneaky! He hides from me all the time!¡± ¡±I¡­ I kinda think Ben is worried about exploiting you, precious.¡± Alanna said sadly. The problem with Ben was, he wasn¡¯t human. Alanna corrected that thought as soon as she realized she¡¯d had it. The problem with Ben¡¯s situation was how his nonhuman characteristics interacted with his social life. If you were in the same room as Ben, then you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Ben was your best fucking friend. You¡¯d known him for years, maybe your whole life. You could trust him with anything. There was no reason to think that Ben wasn¡¯t supposed to be there, no reason to hold anything back, and no reason not to share whatever you had with him. And you would absolutely be certain that he was supposed to be there, doing whatever he was doing. It faded with proximity, and also when Ben intentionally repressed it. But it could never be fully turned off. So far, only iLipedes and the weird ink crows from the Stacks hated Ben on sight, which was why he loved those species so much. His pet iLipede that actually tolerated his presence was the greatest victory Ben had ever had over his own nature. In the context of how Sarah lived her life - as a ball of unstoppable friendship - Ben was understandably uncomfortable. He didn¡¯t want to ruin how she loved living her life, and felt like his existence would do that be default. And, as it turned out, Ben was really fucking good at vanishing when he wanted to. Not in a magical way, he just¡­ had an uncanny ability to not be in the room when you went looking for him. Or to slip out without being spotted. Personally, Alanna suspected that he had gotten a list of the really good hiding spots from all the ratroaches that lived at the Lair and wanted spots they could escape to if needed. It would be easy for Ben, especially since he worked with Recovery for Sewer refugee onboarding already. Though he might be too heavy to hide on top of all the ventilation pipes down in the basements. ¡±Bah!¡± Sarah flatly rejected the idea that she would be offended by Ben¡¯s presence. ¡°I¡¯ll get him eventually.¡± She vowed with a dramatic clench of her fist. ¡°And to answer the actual first question, I¡¯m doing math!¡± ¡±Ew. Why.¡± Alanna frowned. ¡°Wait, no. Math is Anesh¡¯s thing!¡± ¡±¡­other people are allowed to do math!¡± Sarah rolled onto her side, flopping next to Auberdeen¡¯s floofy white form to stare up at Alanna. ¡°We aren¡¯t defined by our skillsets! And also Anesh is busy so I couldn¡¯t ask him.¡± She admitted. Alanna shook her head with a twisting smile that she was trying to cover up. ¡°Nope! You make friends, I throw myself into danger, Anesh does math, James rescues people and then hires them, Dave makes terrible D&D character choices, and JP¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡±Wait, no! Now I can¡¯t even make a silly character? TQ and Cheha will be sad!¡± ¡±There are other people in our D&D game.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡±Yeah, and Smoke-And-Ember won¡¯t be sad!¡± Sarah grinned up at her, confident in her read on their party dynamics. Sarah had a lot of skill ranks in social skills, but she¡¯d never really needed them to feel out other people. They just made her better at it, like how Alanna¡¯s magical Empathy boost made her exceptional at keeping conversations from going bad. ¡°Actually, what¡¯s TQ¡¯s thing? He¡¯s been around for a while, you must have a thing for him!¡± ¡±Flirting with James and being depressed.¡± ¡±That¡¯s not special either! That¡¯s everyone¡¯s thing!¡± Sarah announced, getting a low rumbling woof from Auberdeen as she persisted in interrupting the dog¡¯s nap. ¡°Sorry!¡± She stage whispered. Alanna shook her head, smiling openly now, her heart swelling as she watched Sarah through two sets of eyes. In the physical world, the girl with her tangled hair spilling over a couch cushion and looking up at her with wide sparkling eyes was cute. A short, slim figure that moved with a confidence that left her never out of place. But through Alanna¡¯s Empathy, Sarah was a roaring furnace of compassion and joy, painting everything around them in the colors of honest love. In one view, she was cute. In the other, she was beautiful. And Alanna was done pretending to ever be annoyed with the people she actually loved. ¡±Alright, alright. So what kinda math are you doing?¡± Sarah¡¯s vibrant energy darkened like a stormcloud, and a sigh came with it. ¡°You know the box that makes paperclips?¡± ¡°Like, the thought experiment?¡± Alanna asked, before seeing that Sarah was staring at her blankly and realizing she was off base. ¡±Okay¡­no¡­?¡± ¡±From Officium Mundi. It¡¯s a box of infinite paperclips. Didn¡¯t you find it on the long delve?¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°I found a lot of stuff. I¡¯m gonna be honest, I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not dumb, but I promise you that smarter people in the Order are gonna find better uses for the magic items. Like you, apparently!¡± She paused, before clearing her throat dramatically. ¡°Also I would have assumed that the old digital camera that takes notes on random stuff you photograph would have been the more useful one.¡± ¡±Well, I hate it.¡± Sarah groaned. ¡°The box! Not¡­ anything else you said! That camera sounds wild. But. Look, here.¡± She sat up and showed Alanna some of the papers she¡¯d tried to sketch out geometry equations on. ¡°The paperclips are all identical, and ¡®normal¡¯, whatever that means. They¡¯re made of¡­ uh¡­ nickel coated galvanized steel wire.¡± Sarah read the last part in her ¡®quoting something¡¯ voice. ¡°And the box never runs out.¡± ¡±Okay. Cool? I mean, infinite free steel sounds nice.¡± ¡±It does sound nice. It¡¯s a lie. A terrible lie, inflicted on us by the grim specter of logistics!¡± Alanna looked around the room. ¡°Are we being haunted by James, too? This sounds like a James thing.¡± Sarah softly rammed her head onto the paper notebook she was using with a dull thud. ¡±Look, the point is, it would take one point six quadrillion paperclips to cover the world¡¯s yearly steel use.¡± She didn¡¯t look up as Alanna made a conciliatory grunt and started rubbing at her shoulders, just relaxed into the touch of her girlfriend¡¯s strong hands with a small squeak. ¡°Mmmh. And we can copy the box!¡± Sarah explained when she decided to find her voice again. ¡°It¡¯s small enough! But the nickel needs to be separated in a special kind of furnace, I think? And we¡¯d need a few thousand boxes turned upside down and never not pouring, and then trucks to carry it all away, and just so much infrastructure¡­ and the boxes are made of thin cardboard! They might rip at any time, and that¡¯s it! Poof, blue orb!¡± She made a content squeak as Alanna kept massaging her neck. ¡°And¡­ and¡­ mmmh¡­ the paperclips get stuck, and you have to shake the box¡­ and¡­¡± ¡±This is why I leave this kind of thing to Karen or Texture-Of-Barkdust.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°Honestly anyone in Recovery is better at it than me. Them, or even just James.¡± She gave Sarah one last pat and stood up. ¡°Do you have any idea how much reading and research James actually does? The fucker practically lives inside JSTOR some nights.¡± Sarah slid down off the couch and under the table, rolling lithely between the legs of the familiar old furniture to pop up on the other side of their living room. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s always been like that. He almost never talks about the work he puts in to get to conclusions, because he doesn¡¯t want people to think less of him.¡± She said with a slight melancholy that Alanna only barely caught even with her enhanced sense. ¡±Huh. I never noticed.¡± She said with a frown. ¡°I barely noticed that, and I was his best friend for a lifetime. And yes, I know it doesn¡¯t make sense. He¡¯s a bit of dumb¡­ dummy.¡± Alanna smirked at her girlfriend, still reveling in the change in their relationship status. ¡°You were about to call him a dumbass, weren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t help it, you¡¯re all bad influences on me! Corrupting my poor virgin ears!¡± Sarah swooned, fingers spread as she placed the back of her hand against her forehead and twisted her body backward. Alanna laughed. ¡±Uh huh.¡± She said in pure disbelief. ¡±Don¡¯t be mean to meeeee.¡± Shaking her head, Alanna decided to move on to what she¡¯d actually stopped by their home for. ¡°Well anyway, James and I are going on a Stacks run. Wanna come?¡± She asked. Sarah thought about it, only mostly dropping her pose. ¡°Actually, kind of, yes? I hear a lot of cool stuff about that place! And I don¡¯t need to be back for Clutter Ascent until tomorrow afternoon when it¡¯s my shift. So that sounds like fun! When are you planning it for?¡± ¡±Oh, a couple hours.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°Yeah, if you wanna shower and change first, now¡¯s the time to do it.¡± She raised her eyebrows with a sly grin as she shuffled closer to Sarah. ¡°I could help!¡± ¡±¡­how many hours?¡± Sarah asked, face already bright red. Alanna shrugged easily. ¡±Four or five?¡± ¡°Then yes, you can help.¡± _____ James, Alanna, Sarah, and Arrush, all popped into existence on the second story of a library building that had only ever had one floor constructed. They were only going on a light search of the Ceaseless Stacks tonight, so they didn¡¯t bring excessive backup, especially when there were so many different things the Order¡¯s knights were working on. And besides, they were meeting Vadik and Jesse down here; the nominal keeper of this dungeon¡¯s entrance, and his newly assigned assistant. ¡±Smells odd.¡± Arrush said instantly as their teleport left them standing among a thousand paperback works of art. ¡±And there is a hangup.¡± Zhu stated, a feathered limb unfurling like a cylinder around James¡¯ arm as his tail folded into place behind them with an orange aura. And, James realize, of the voices he could hear talking, one of them wasn¡¯t familiar. He sighed as the group moved carefully out into the open central upstairs of the library, spotting Vad talking to an older man sitting at one of the tables. His ally sighed in relief as James walked into sight. ¡°See, there he is. You can ask him.¡± Vad raised a hand. ¡°James! My boss wants to talk to you!¡± ¡±You could have called or warned us¡­?¡± James raised his eyebrows, caught off guard but trying to not be annoyed with Vad. ¡±Good evening.¡± The heavyset black man had a salt and pepper beard that looked less like a choice and more like he just gave up on shaving, especially when paired with the heavy bags under his eyes, visible even against his skin. He wore a pair of gold framed rectangular glasses and a sweater that Mr. Rogers would have been proud of, making him look the perfect part of a kind old librarian. ¡°My friend Vadik here tells me that you are not stealing from our good little library?¡° ¡±Vad, status?¡± James said flatly before answering. Vad swallowed heavily, but answered anyway. ¡±Capricorn.¡± The code word for ¡°Not a threat, probably not affiliated with Blitzkrieg, please don¡¯t blow up the building.¡± ¡±Excuse me.¡± The man sounded like he was offended that he was being ignored. The Texan accent in his voice really coming through strong as he got angry quickly. ¡°Would you care to¡­¡° He blinked in the dim after hours light of the library. ¡°Young man, are you glowing?¡± Zhu¡¯s coiling manifestation paused, and then cohered more tightly against James¡¯ skin as the navigator stopped preparing for a fight. He tilted his eye sideways, talking before James or Alanna could get a word in. ¡°I¡¯m glowing. Because I¡¯m like that.¡± He said. ¡°Hello! I¡¯ve found a lot of boring people don¡¯t get past this part.¡± ¡±¡­Zhu¡­¡± James brought a gloved hand up to pinch his nose. The one that didn¡¯t have Zhu on it. ¡±Actually I¡¯m kinda with him.¡± Alanna said, looking over her shoulder to where Sarah was waiting with Arrush, the big guy looking nervous. ¡°This is only kinda funny. How long until the door?¡± ¡±Eight minutes.¡± Zhu supplied. James nodded. ¡±Okay. Hello. Vad, care to introduce us?¡± The other knight jerked upright. ¡±Right, of course. James, this is MacDowell Shoemaker, he¡¯s the head librarian here. Boss, this is James Lyle. My¡­ other boss.¡± James resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the older man sighed in what felt like a mirror of his own exasperation. ¡°And why are you bringing your friends in, after hours?¡± ¡±Oh, I can explain that.¡± James said easily. ¡°The stairwell door back there goes to a different small world every week or so. It¡­ Alanna get your feet off the table.¡± He interrupted himself as his girlfriend settled into one of the reading chairs and kicked her boots up. ¡°Have some respect, this is a library. Anyway, there¡¯s a whole enormous realm of hostile paper monsters and endless library shelves, and some other weird magic. And we or other people in our group go in every week.¡± He paused, searching the older librarian¡¯s face and seeing none of the disbelief, alarm, or shock that he normally got with a pitch like this. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡±You¡¯re awfully calm for someone just learning about this.¡± Zhu said curiously. MacDowell took a deep breath, pushing himself forward to settle his arms on the worn surface of the large reading table that he had sat Vad down at. ¡°So it would seem.¡± He said distantly. ¡°So, four of you this time, is it?¡± ¡±Six tonight, actually.¡± James said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a couple people hiding behind the bookshelves over there cause I didn¡¯t want you to react badly to my boyfriend and spoil a first impression by me punching you or something.¡± ¡±Not every Texan is a bigot, don¡¯t stereotype me you brat.¡± The librarian shot James a glare. He looked like he might have been about to say more, but Sarah chose that moment to shove a reluctant Arrush out from their cover, the ratroach weakly resisting her as she leaned into his back and tried to use every one of her scarce pounds of body weight as leverage. MacDowell watched as Vad just gestured toward them and James waved a hand like he was presenting a gameshow prize; one of the two expecting to be fired by the end of the night. ¡°Ah.¡± The old librarian said. ¡°Well, that¡¯s new.¡± ¡±Wait, that¡¯s new, but I¡¯m not worth comment?!¡± Zhu demanded. ¡°James, I¡¯m offended. Threaten him with something for me!¡± ¡±¡­What¡­ no!¡± ¡±Yeah, we don¡¯t really have a lot to threaten people with.¡± Vad said sadly, like he was pining for the imaginary days when the Order tortured people or something. From behind Arrush, Sarah peeked her head out. ¡°Sometimes we give people jobs!¡± She said. ¡°That¡¯s like a threat!¡± ¡±Sure.¡± James nodded. ¡°Anyway. There¡¯s a door to another world, and we scout and raid it for magic that we use to try to fix problems.¡± He pushed himself off the table he was leaning against as Arrush tentatively slid closer to him, the ratroach following directions from Alanna¡¯s small nodded gestures. ¡°It¡¯s not the only one, Arrush is from a different place.¡± ¡±Yours is nicer.¡± Arrush said with a wet rasp. ¡±Agreed.¡± Sarah chirped. ¡°Also two minutes?¡± The old man sighed. ¡°Well. I know I can¡¯t stop you, knowing how these things go. Especially not with your pet monsters there. But I would like to ask you to stay out of that place, even though I know you won¡¯t listen.¡± ¡±¡­oh.¡± Arrush¡¯s voice was a tiny sound of hurt. Before James could jump to his defense, Vad smacked his boss with an open palm slap to the back of his head. ¡°Hey!¡± His bark of anger cut through the chill of the air conditioned building. ¡°You said you¡¯d be polite! That¡¯s over the fucking line. Apologize to my friend.¡± He demanded, stifling his own employeer¡¯s complaints as he stabbed a finger in Arrush¡¯s direction. The man rubbed the back of his head, not noticing Alanna holding back laughter as she arrested her own lunge across the table. ¡°I¡­ no, you¡¯re right Vadik. I apologize, I am being unreasonable.¡± He shivered slightly as he tried to meet Arrush¡¯s eyes. ¡°But I still don¡¯t want you going through that door.¡± ¡±It¡¯s alright, we¡¯re professionals.¡± James reassured him MacDowell smiled at him, a grandfatherly smile that was both caring and very, very tired. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that before.¡± He said. ¡°Sooner or later, you won¡¯t come back. There¡¯s only one way to be safe from that, and it¡¯s to ignore it.¡± ¡±¡­Uh, sorry. Hi. I¡¯m Sarah.¡± Sarah raised her hand as she poked her head around Arrush. ¡°If you felt like it was dangerous, why didn¡¯t you tell someone?¡± The man fixed tired eyes on her. ¡°I did. I have. Friends, police, government, it doesn¡¯t matter. Sooner or later, they stop coming out.¡± He sagged backward. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try. I¡¯m just tired of seeing good people lose their lives.¡± ¡±Assuming they¡¯re dead.¡± James rubbed his chin. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s a lot to talk about there.¡± Vad nodded. ¡±There is. But also, we have been okay so far. Even I have, and I¡¯ve had my arm half chewed off. And we were going in¡­ nowish.¡± ¡±Mr. Shoemaker, would you like to come along?¡± Sarah asked suddenly. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not safe. But we actually are professionals at this specifically. And if you want to see inside, Vad and Jesse will be staying near the door, so¡­¡± Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡±I¡­ no.¡± The older gentleman shook his head vigorously. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I will. But I will wait here for you kids, and pray for your safety.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers fluttered excitedly against James¡¯ armor. ¡°Oh! Are you a cleric? I¡¯ve never met one in real life, that¡¯s really cool!¡± ¡±¡­Zhu¡­ no he¡­¡± Sarah looked like she was about to die of embarrassment. ¡°We¡¯ll talk later. Ten seconds. Vad?¡± The knight swore in a language he wrongly assumed no one else knew, and scampered over to the door, followed by Arrush as the ratroach broke away from the rest of the group. The two of them, exactly on time, opening the double doors and putting stops on them to hold the portal in place. ¡°Alright, I want an adventure! Let¡¯s go!¡± Sarah put on a fabricated front of enthusiasm, and led the way with Alanna into the dungeon. Before entering, James stepped up and wove his arm around Arrush¡¯s custom fitted armor in a comforting hug, and as he did so, Zhu peeled back to give them a small privacy, forming a flared cloak of orange feathers along James¡¯ back. ¡°You wanna head back?¡± James asked in a whisper. ¡±No.¡± Arrush said with tense anger. ¡°I don¡¯t want him¡­ I don¡¯t want something that small to ruin things.¡± ¡±Fair.¡± He turned back to the librarian, who seemed to be avoiding looking through the breach in reality. ¡°Last chance.¡± He offered. James had found that a lot of the time, this method of introducing someone to the magical side of the world was sort of the equivalent of performing first aid with sticks and dirt. Not technically impossible, but it didn¡¯t really work for most people. A lot of people were mentally brittle in a way that mixed badly with the massive infomorph structures around the world that shrouded the dungeons and their effects. Bit by bit, the Order of Endless Rooms was working on damaging and toppling those memeplexes, but they were often huge things. Plus, only the infomorph population could actually see them, and even then, couldn¡¯t always figure out the full size and shape of the constructs. All of that was on top of the potential for some kind of antimemetic background radiation that made it hard to remember dungeon stuff in general unless you were past a certain level of exposure. So normally, he would have said there was a good chance the librarian wouldn¡¯t retain much of this encounter. Would shove the Ceaseless Stacks and James and Arrush and everyone else out of his memory, and just act like everything was normal. But this was different. The man knew about the dungeon. Had known about it the whole time, apparently. Had told other people, which meant Vad wasn¡¯t the first one to find it. Wasn¡¯t the first one to go in. He was just the first one to survive and get the Order of Endless Rooms involved. Or get involved with the Order of Endless Rooms, depending on how you looked at it. And now that his boss had found out, he wasn¡¯t mad. He just didn¡¯t want more people to die. MacDowell had developed a very weird survival mechanism for the magical world. Not rejection of the ideas, but rejection of interaction. He was treating the dungeon like a wild bear; don¡¯t approach it, don¡¯t poke it, and don¡¯t feed it, and you¡¯d be fine. He was staying out of the line of fire, and it had kept him alive over apparently a lot of other people. But it worked. James couldn¡¯t deny that the librarian was alive, and the dungeon hadn¡¯t killed him. All it took was not participating with the magic of the world. That was a cost James wasn¡¯t okay with. So he stepped with the others over the threshold, and into the Ceaseless Stacks. Even if it was dangerous. Maybe, maybe, especially because it was dangerous. _____ ¡±I always love this part.¡± Arrush whispered in his rasping voice, stepping to the front of the group and striding forward confidently, some of his distress disappearing. His custom fitted armor and belt of armaments and tools making him look perfectly at home as he stepped across the threshold and into the endless shelves and hundred foot high optical illusion ceilings of the Stacks. Everyone had their favorite dungeons. For James and Sarah, it was Clutter Ascent. Alanna actually preferred Route Horizon, just because she loved the mythology of the combustion engine. But for Arrush, it was here. Among endless row after row of shelves stocked with false books, surrounded by the smell of clean dust and old paper, where everything was either brutally honest in its hostility or openly willing to chill for a bit and not fight. A place of wrought iron and whorled wood that felt all at once mysterious and honest. He loved it. Arrush had heard that dungeons couldn¡¯t possibly be real a surprising amount of times. So far, the Order was pretty sure that wasn¡¯t correct, and Arrush agreed. ¡±Alright.¡± James¡¯ voice made the ratroach¡¯s heart hammer almost painfully in his chest. ¡°Vad?¡± ¡°This way,¡± the younger librarian pointed to their right. ¡°Stairs down, there¡¯s a loooong hall we haven¡¯t looked at yet. Jesse and I¡¯ll set up as fallback for you. My legs hurt, I¡¯m not running for my life tonight. And he needs to learn some basics anyway.¡± James and Arrush traced a path forward where Vad had indicated, the others trailing behind. Sarah watched everything with wide eyed wonder as she stuck close at Alanna¡¯s side, mostly focusing on the ceiling, which was the most visible part of the weird terrain from this angle. They hadn¡¯t yet passed enough of the miles of bookshelf to feel like they were anywhere more than just a particularly expansive bookstore, but soon enough that would change. Also Sarah kept feeling her eyes drawn to each aisle they went past, looking for more of the hermit crab stepstool creatures that lurked around here. There was one back at the Lair, and the thing seemed almost pathologically chill, so Sarah was really curious what they were like in the dungeon environment. Sarah was curious about almost everything. This was just the current point of focus for her. The shellaxies from the Office had a similar pattern of behavior in their natural environment; sleepy lil guys that were often content to ignore everything around them. But under some circumstances, they would attack brutally and abruptly, both in and out of the dungeon. The ones at the Lair were used to people, but they were still kinda animals that didn¡¯t have the benefit of a lineage of thousands of years of domestication. In contrast, the crablike critter from the Stacks was peaceful and curious basically all of the time. And Sarah was willing to risk getting her fingers bitten to see if that held true here in the dungeon itself. It was hard to spot though, since at least for this early bit, they were moving fairly quickly. The group kept a tight formation as they made a snappy walking pace. Partly because the Stacks weren¡¯t that threatening here on the outer edge, but also partly because if you stood still long enough, some of the books near you on the end of the aisle would take notice and try to eat you. Shelf after shelf passed by, the dungeon¡¯s environment showing a strange mix of dark wood and beige metal as materials started mixing together in ways no human builder would have ever bothered with. For Sarah, who had never actually been here before, it was an almost painful experience to have to keep moving and not spend a half an hour poking around at the different sights. But she knew that her friends were leading her somewhere much cooler than just a two mile long hallway where soon enough the shelves were on both sides, despite the fact that to their right there ¡®should¡¯ have been the real world library. So Sarah kept close, and alert to more than just the creatures she was keen to spot. Half a mile of quick walking later, when some of them were really starting to feel like they were getting a good workout, Vad called a halt. ¡°Here.¡± He whispered, pointing down between a row of shelves. James and Arrush moved to the end points, James forcing himself to remember that just because the little sign said ¡®biology¡¯ didn¡¯t mean any of the books could teach him anything, and looked down the row. It was maybe two and a half feet wide, quiet as anything else in here, with a couple of hanging cone lights overhead that swayed in tiny motions in the slight breeze. Thick hardbacks were stacked up on the shelves in uneven piles; no cleanly organized library, this. Arrush tapped James from across the narrow aisle with the small arm that extended from his back, and pointed the tip of his muzzle down at the single book he¡¯d just seen twitch as it tried to appear innocent. At the end of the narrow passage, there was a chipped wooden banister that walled off what looked like a basement staircase. Unlike the grand sweeping stairs that the Ceaseless Stacks had connecting its various balconies and landings, this looked like it belonged in a very specific run down Masonic lodge that James remembered his grandpa taking him to when he was eight years old, where he got lost trying to find the bathroom. ¡±Hang on.¡± Sarah¡¯s spoke in a quiet tone, but not a whisper, experience as a delver letting her know that a whisper was often louder in a quiet environment like this. She took a few steps back and looked down the previous row of shelves. ¡°That staircase isn¡¯t here.¡± ¡±Yeah, we found it pretty much by accident.¡± Vad admitted. ¡°It¡¯s only here. It¡¯s safe though, just a tight fit.¡± He stacked up behind Arrush while Alanna got into position behind James. ¡°You two, stay back. There¡¯s been about five to ten snappers here every time we¡¯ve checked. Stay away from the other rows.¡± ¡±You have told me that every time. ¡° Jesse said. Their hands were practically vibrating as they stood in the middle of the group; footage of dungeons meant that they hadn¡¯t been surprised, and they¡¯d been into the Stacks once before, but this really was a weird thing, and even being prepared didn¡¯t make the position of new delver any easier. James and Arrush weren¡¯t listening. The two of them, with Alanna as backup and Vad watching their rear for any problems, bolted forward single file into the terrible environment for a fight. Which was a shame, because out of every dungeon life species they¡¯d ever encountered, the books in here were possibly the most hostile. Even Office-influenced camracondas would show tactical restraint, even if they were planning on killing you eventually. The first book, bound in a cracked brown cover, lurched off the shelf at James¡¯ legs with a bookmark tongue lashing across a row of razor sharp teeth. It had taken about three steps before they started to attack, before James could even offer peaceful passage. The books were like very territorial wolverines, and the Order tried their best to just avoid them and let them be their vicious animal selves far away from anyone they might want to hurt. It didn¡¯t work, though. They¡¯d hunt outsiders like they were hungry for the blood of the living. James twisted, letting the book strike ineffectively on his thigh, before shoving it back and keeping up his own forward pace, letting Arrush plant a clawed foot on the thing and carefully rip into it as he walked behind James. More books woke up at the noise, shifting and cracking their papery maws as they looked down from the metal shelves at the two, no hesitation between spotting prey and attacking. But James and Arrush had done this a few times, and they maximized what they could of the cramped environment, both of them working together to intercept and disable individual books before they could get swarmed. James only had to use a single cast of Pave to snap one in half at the end before they ran out of incoming hostiles. ¡±All clear!¡± He called back. ¡±Wow, they really are as mean as you said.¡± Sarah gnawed at her lower lip as she watched Alanna quickly and efficiently pluck yellow orbs out of the bodies of the attacking creations. Her amazonian girlfriend nodded briskly. ¡°Yup. They¡¯re the least ethically problematic combat targets we have, honestly.¡± ¡±I feel like you¡¯re learning but you¡¯re learning the wrong lessons.¡± James snorted. ¡°Oh hey, Sarah and Jesse, the tradition!¡± He tried to offer each of them a yellow orb, but had to wait until they had gotten their whole group through the cramped hall. Jesse took the orb, but gave James a guilty look standing on the other side of the bannister as James waited for them on the top of the creaky wooden staircase. ¡°I¡¯ve actually already¡­¡± ¡±It¡¯s fine! And I¡¯m excited!¡± Sarah popped hers instantly. ¡°Yes! Danaus plexippus!¡± ¡±I have no idea what that means.¡± Alanna told her as she cracked her own orb and got a species rank in South American gophers. ¡°But I¡¯m excited that you¡¯re excited?¡± ¡±It¡¯s a monarch butterfly. Which actually might legitimately make Sarah the first person to get a first orb that she likes. Or, does it count as a ¡®first orb¡¯ if it¡¯s the first one from this dungeon? I know for a fact you use Office yellows, because you were talking breathlessly about the history of flags at breakfast yesterday.¡± James said, using his own yellow orb. They didn¡¯t tend to save the Library yellows that often; they still had a huge backlog of them to copy for testing, and given how violent the guardians here could be, it seemed unlikely they were going to run out. Which was why he didn¡¯t feel any real guilt as the tiny little ball in his fingers popped like a grape. [+1 Species Rank : Gorilla Gorilla Gorilla] Arrush, having just picked up a rank in a specific type of ant he¡¯d ask about later, saw the puzzled look on James¡¯ human face. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± He asked with a set of soft clicks in his chest. ¡±Uh¡­ no, I think mine¡¯s broken. It just said ¡®gorilla¡¯ three times.¡± James looked down at his hand with a worried frown. If dungeon orbs were glitching, the Order was about to have a real fucking serious problem. ¡±Oh! I know this one!¡± Sarah said. ¡°Silverback gorilla! It¡¯s funny cause it¡¯s family, kingdom, and genus are all ¡®gorilla¡¯. So its scientific name is gorilla gorilla gorilla.¡± She took a breath of dusty dungeon air. ¡°That¡¯s harder to say than I thought.¡± James relaxed, practically feeling his biology Lesson advancing by a point as he processed that. ¡°Okay, cool.¡± He said with a grin. ¡°Well. Let¡¯s get downstairs and see what the dungeon has for us, shall we?¡± The entrance cleared, the group descended single file down the wooden stairs that felt like they were about to collapse under them, emerging into a contradictory marble floored atrium dotted with small tables and plush armchairs, stacks of paperback books, and a single dominating librarian¡¯s desk. With its back to a railing that looked down over mile after mile of shelf. Despite only having gone down maybe fifteen feet of stairs, the ceiling here was a vaulted cathedral dome. Stained glass and banded iron making a confusing mess of the overhead, with light seeming to shine through from sources that couldn¡¯t exist, casting the whole region in a dim and slightly off color glow. A frantic scratching of something gouging into wood split the air as the group emerged from the cramped stairs, and James caught sight of the tail end of one of the folded paper cats - catalogs, he liked to call them - bolting from where it had been resting on the surface of the desk. A twisting coil of a paper tail vanishing over the edge of the rail, and the sound of bounding impacts reaching his ears as it darted across the top of the shelves below. ¡±This place looks so cool.¡± Sarah said in a hushed voice. ¡°The video doesn¡¯t show it right. It¡¯s so open.¡± Arrush shifted next to her. ¡±The ceiling is a trick.¡± He told her in his raspy voice. ¡°For most humans, anyway. It looks smaller than it really is.¡± ¡±Smaller?!¡± Sarah¡¯s incredulous question was offset by the ear to ear grin she wore as she craned her neck up to try to understand the bizarre geometry she was standing under. ¡±Smaller. ¡° Arrush nodded as he whispered back, staring up himself. He loved how it looked, even if he could see through the trick. Maybe especially because he could see through it, his myriad eyes making the illusion ineffective against him. Over past the dominating desk, Vad was pointing out stuff one level down below to James. From there, they had a panoramic view of hundreds of different shelves, miles of territory with almost no obstruction, and so a good opportunity to map out a path for the delvers that could hit a few points of interest. Jesse stood with them, looking like they didn¡¯t know what to do with their hands, fiddling with the unfamiliar armor in the way that new delvers tended to do until they got used to how these things went. Alanna just leaned on the railing on the other side, her eyes tracking for anything moving, and making sure nothing was going to surprise them down there. The Ceaseless Stacks was a hard dungeon not to love. It was often dangerous, often hostile, but it had a kind of quiet honesty to it. And, unlike a lot of other dungeons, it smelled pleasant. Cedar and paper, ink and dust, nothing overwhelming, just a nice place to be. If there was nothing to fight and no magic to collect, James and Arrush still would have shown up to take long walks here. But there was magic to find. And so after making sure the landing was safe, James, Zhu, Arrush, Sarah, and Alanna descended via rope ladder into the depths below. To see what they could find. ____ A long time ago, James had asked one of the catalogs about finding a new orb type, partly on a hunch, partly just because he was incapable of not trying to talk in stressful situations. It had, oddly, answered. All catalogs would answer if you asked for help finding something, actually. They were helpful. And then, once they¡¯d answered, they¡¯d escape. James had a suspicion that it was a unique magic to them; they fed off of providing information, and turned it into motion somehow. The point was, he¡¯d found how to find green orbs. They tended to show up in water features, which were sparse in the Ceaseless Stacks. The place didn¡¯t even have drinking fountains. But sometimes, it would have small pools or gentle waterfall walls, and sometimes it would have odd areas where the shelves fell back and left a hollow zone with a big globe statue and a large basin of water underneath it. That last kind was basically a guaranteed green orb. It was still weird to James that the Office and the Library dropped the same color spread of orbs. It was also kind of annoying that they did different things. Office greens improved a space, often in impossible ways. They liked permanent spatial contortion, daily additions of things, and increased ¡®value¡¯. Library greens gave you material ranks. As with every Library orb, one of its ranks was a flat improvement to learning speed with the given thing. Material ranks were some of the weirdest, because they seemed to speed up how quickly you could learn any kind of useful skill that worked with one of them, even if it wasn¡¯t really the ¡®intended¡¯ material. As long as it was what you were training with, you got faster. The Order had a few custom made melee weapons made out of wrapped industrial sapphire just for training purposes, to go with one of the copied orbs. The thing was¡­ if you were actually polite to a catalog, they would give you more than the pure information you asked for. They¡¯d editorialize, suggest, hint, advise. Sometimes they were coy, or outright capricious. But the one James had gotten that first set of directions from had warned him about the thing that lived on the globe. It had called it something dramatic, and his memory wasn¡¯t good enough to remember exactly, but he was pretty sure it was a midnight baroness. James¡¯ shoulder hit the wood floor as he flung himself behind a pile of patently false encyclopedias. At any other time, he would have mourned the loss of the incoherent dungeon worldbuilding contained within those noble tomes. But right now, he was just glad they were thick enough and heavy enough to absorb the ink spikes being fired his way by the screaming orbs that hovered over the billowing form of the baroness. Three spikes traced across the ground where he¡¯d been standing, one clipped his calf armor and would have sheared his leg off if he¡¯d not been wearing it, and four more embedded in the book wall that James had sheltered behind. He didn¡¯t stay there. He had to keep moving, and a hard shove launched him to a crouch and then a dash with an easy exertion as he kept dodging and drawing attention. On the other side, Alanna spun like a dancer as she dodged a stray shot sent her way, grabbing Sarah as she did so and twisting both of them just out of the path of the missile. Sarah was having a hard time not laughing; not because she was having fun but because it was just her panic reaction to nearly being killed. They¡¯d been ambushed by level geometry again somehow. After dropping down into this sublevel of shelves and displays and hanging lamps, it had been a fairly smooth dungeon delve for a while. Not easy, but they¡¯d seen some cool stuff, and nothing had killed them. The living wrought iron lamp with a glowing golden flame in it¡¯s ¡®chest¡¯ had been as cute as it was dangerous, and they hadn¡¯t even fought that one, just snuck some of the blue orbs out of its nest and run. The hanging vines that were actually torn up unrolled scrolls had been a cool touch that had made parts of the dungeon feel a lot less ¡®American¡¯, even if some of them had tried to choke the team to death. The bit of the floor that was only the optical illusion of sturdy wood had been easily dealt with by Arrush, but lowering people down to grab the purple orbs at the bottom without falling in and dying to the razor-sharp edges was a trick. And after all of that, they¡¯d turned a corner, and found themselves facing one of these things. One of the massive floating stone globes, with a shadowy creature pretending to be a cloud system for the miniature world screaming trivia questions at them and trying to kill them. And all the rows of shelves leading away just led back into the room. James loved Scooby Doo as much as the next child of the nineties, but this was a little much. From James¡¯ shoulder, Zhu yelled out the answer to one of the questions the auxiliary gunner spawns were shouting out. Something about seatbelts, James was a little busy running and ducking past a desk to process it, but it must have been right because the construct flattened down to a thin line, and stopped shooting at them. Ahead of James, Arrush picked out another question and answered it uncertainly, not getting close enough to ¡®close¡¯ the incoming barrage, but still slowing it as he wasn¡¯t technically wrong. They were trying really hard to not have to shoot this thing. Gunfire in the Stacks was a terrible idea, almost every time. And that meant disabling all the parts of it that were coalescing bullets out of their inability to answer questions about local populations, historical figures, and the dates of wars that involved maybe a couple hundred people at most. James followed the lines Zhu painted for him, maneuvering through shots as he played defense, his attention narrowed down to just not getting hit while the others picked out questions and fired off answers like their own return assault. He¡¯d been hitting the thing with [Pave] every time it turned away from him, and while he¡¯d run his Velocity dry, he¡¯d certainly gotten its attention. Crossing paths with Alanna and Sarah, the duo flickered across his vision and they used [Move Person] to get clear of the sweeping fire that was chasing at James¡¯ heels; at the very least the baroness sucked at leading shots. James had played enough space combat games as a kid to know that was important. The baroness seemed to agree. Planting a pair of smoky claws on its globe somewhere over a continent that definitely wasn¡¯t Africa, it reared forward, the remaining two launchers tethered to its back suddenly amplifying the volume of their cries before spraying out a shotgun spread of projectiles James and Zhu¡¯s way. The navigator had a moment of panic. There wasn¡¯t a clear path out. By virtue of his nature and their training together, Zhu knew every bit of maneuvering that James could do. He knew how to map out a route and guide a dodge through the worst situation. But not this one, because the incoming shot was an unavoidable cage. James didn¡¯t know what Zhu was thinking. But when every one of the guiding orange lines in his vision winked out at once, he managed to keep his calm. Instead of trying to dodge, which would have been stupid - he was a human, not a navigator; if the person who was good at something told you that it wasn¡¯t gonna work you didn¡¯t try anyway, you tried something else - he stopped exactly where he was. Didn¡¯t even bother to pivot to face the incoming strikes. And then he let out Breath. Mountain Of The Self was, technically, a spell made from his own personal magic and his connection to it through how it had kept him alive and propelled him forward. This did nothing for James in terms of a discount on the cost of it though. It didn¡¯t change anything, it just made it emotionally interesting. Which was a shame because at a cost of twenty four Breath a second, he could only hold it for twelve seconds at most before running out of the mana, or, more realistically, two seconds before beginning to experience hypoxia and potential brain damage. Of course, a spike of congealed high velocity ink through the skull would also cause brain damage. So he picked his poison, and braced for impact. He didn¡¯t need to. The spell stopped anything from altering him. For the brief second and a half that he held it active, his body was inviolate. A half dozen spikes hit him, and detonated into splatters of ink as the force of the impact was pushed back through them, unable to transfer anywhere else. One even nailed him in the eye, which was definitely something that made him flinch, and possibly scream. James was pretty sure it didn¡¯t matter how modified and magical he ever became; a thing slamming into his eyeball, even if it didn¡¯t hurt, was always gonna freak him out. Given clear air to focus on the words being thrown around and not the projectiles, the others answered the last couple rapid questions about the percentage of Earth¡¯s population that lived in Europe, and the date of the invention of peanut butter, and got close enough on both to finish slamming closed the projectile shooters. Which still actually left a midnight baroness, a creature that was larger than everyone in the room put together, with glowing smoke for eyes and claws that dug into the stone it was perched upon. Disabling its missile weapons hadn¡¯t killed it. But it didn¡¯t get off the globe. Didn¡¯t keep attacking. Instead, it watched them with wary eyes, especially as they formed up into a loose vanguard so their shield bracers overlapped with the last few charges that they hadn¡¯t spent on this fight. And the delvers watched back. ¡±R-rude thing.¡± Arrush gasped out as he panted for breath, half his hands holding combat knives in straining grips. ¡±Well we did walk into its house.¡± Sarah offered in a shaky voice, still trembling from actually being in a fight like that. She was a good delver, but she was used to smaller things. Not this. And never so unexpectedly. James didn¡¯t say anything, just focused on trying to breathe, feeling the weight of his armor and the shifting form of Zhu¡¯s feathers and tail balancing him out as he struggled to stay upright. Climb spells really took it out of you, if they used too much Breath. The standoff lasted for a few minutes, with the delvers slowly catching their breath and recovering their composure, and the baroness watching them cautiously. Until eventually, Alanna moved, stepping out from the group, tapping James and Arrush on the shoulders as she passed by, but not moving so far to the side that she forced the creature to choose who to look at. ¡±We¡¯re gonna grab the orb in the pool down there,¡± she told it calmly, not really sure if it understood but wanting to offer a passive tone anyway, ¡°and then get out of here.¡± She kept advancing, her hands out and open. The creature scrambled back slightly, claws cutting into the floating globe, but it didn¡¯t move to attack her. ¡°No worries. Just a bunch of peaceful raiders, here for a weird ball. No worries.¡± For a moment, James was terrified that the thing was going to lunge at her. But then he saw Alanna¡¯s shoulders untense, and he realized she was Empathy reading the baroness. Maybe the Library creation had some corner case where it didn¡¯t feel things normally, or maybe it went blank right before it attacked, maybe a lot of things. But Alanna seemed to feel like it was going to sit there and let her poke around under its nest. And she was right. It took her about two minutes of splashing around, while the massive creature pulled itself up to the top of the globe and avoided her like a human would avoid a particularly active spider on the floor. When she came back to their group, soaked up to her knees and elbows, she was grinning wildly. ¡°Find something fun?¡± James asked with a return grin. ¡±Oh yeah.¡± Alanna showed off her prize. Eight orbs. Eight. One of them almost three times the size of the others. ¡°I even left some there, just in case it needs them.¡± She waved at the creature, as the group slowly backed off. ¡±It tried to shoot us.¡± Arrush gave a wet cough as he spoke. Alanna shrugged. ¡°Eh. You technically tried to kill James at least twice. I¡¯ve kinda gotten used to this style of things.¡± Next to her, Sarah gave a still slightly nervous wave to the big smoky beast, before the group moved into the rows of bookshelves, and this time, didn¡¯t just loop back around to where they¡¯d started. ¡°This way is better.¡± She said definitively. ¡°If we don¡¯t have to kill something, we shouldn¡¯t. And maybe she¡¯ll remember us for next time!¡± ¡±That¡­ sounds like something that could backfire spectacularly.¡± James cleared his throat as he and Arrush took point again, leading them quietly through halls and aisles. He checked his skulljack timer, and found they were approaching the safety limit, so the group opted to head back to the exit now rather than push it. ¡°I¡¯m imagining it stalking us now.¡± ¡±The last thing that stalked us out of the dungeon runs operations for our rogue division.¡± Alanna reminded him. ¡±Mh.¡± James answered, staring alertly forward and saying nothing else. Alanna glanced at him over her shoulder from where she was watching their formation¡¯s flank. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡±You are¡­ upset.¡± Arrush spoke bluntly, not taking his eyes off a stumpy wooden shelf stacked with books that were covered in what looked like paper moss. He was trying really hard to participate in the dungeon banter thing the others liked, but he was also intently interested in both the things around them, and whether or not those things were going try to eat them. ¡°Why are you upset? You have been upset this whole time.¡± He asked James. ¡°You aren¡¯t hurt?¡± He¡¯d be able to smell the blood if James was hurt, he was pretty sure, but it didn¡¯t hurt to ask. ¡±He¡¯s not hurt. I am though!¡± Zhu declared, fanning out a newly growing wing off of James¡¯ left shoulder, which had a hole clean through it leaking orange and silver motes. ¡°This is going to be annoying.¡± He declared. James snorted a laugh at his friend¡¯s comment. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m just¡­ every time we run into something¡­ something like that. A fight or a challenge or whatever, I¡¯m just thinking on what the guy told us¡­ uh¡­ Shoemaker. Vad¡¯s boss.¡± ¡±That people come in, and then die?¡± Alanna said. ¡°So what? We know dungeons are dangerous.¡± ¡°Yeah. Well. I wanna talk to him more. Because he made it sound like he knew other delvers, not just random people going in. And if something eventually got them¡­¡± ¡±You¡¯re worried.¡± Sarah said softly, with a sad smile off into the two mile long straight line of head height bookshelves they were turning into and making progress down. ¡°Which is good.¡± James actually paused at that to give her a questioning look. ¡°It is. It¡¯s good. You know why?¡± ¡±No¡­¡± He said slowly. ¡±Because good delver teams still die.¡± Sarah told him in that same softly sad voice. ¡°Because we haven¡¯t seen everything. It only takes one camraconda or one Ben or one something, right?¡± She stopped, leaning a hand on the end of a shelf just underneath a copper sign carved with the word trout. Alanna and James both stepped toward her at the same time, before James shot his girlfriend a ¡®go ahead¡¯ kind of nod and made himself busy keeping watch while they took their short break. ¡°Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have come in here.¡± Sarah said in a trembling squeak of a voice. ¡°This¡­ this might be a bad idea. I want to go home.¡± She whispered as Alanna wrapped her in an armored hug. ¡°Okay.¡± James answered instantly. ¡°We can do that. Take your time, we¡¯re getting out right now. It¡¯ll be okay.¡± ¡±Yeah, and if a Ben shows up I can punch them for you.¡± Alanna chose what she believed was the funniest of Sarah¡¯s examples to home in on. ¡°But yeah, you putting it that way¡­ it feels better.¡± She told Sarah. ¡±Better?!¡± Her girlfriend almost snapped. As close as any of them had ever heard Sarah to being furious. Alanna nodded, not letting go of the hug. ¡°Yeah. You know? Because if it¡¯s just new problems coming up and catching people off guard¡­ okay. Sure. That happens in real life anyway. We can handle problems. You know what I prefer?¡± She asked rhetorically. ¡°I prefer the old man as a bitter dude who¡¯s seen too many people get themselves killed. I prefer that over the alternative, which is that all delvers have an arbitrary lifespan. What¡¯s worse for us; some kind of do-or-die test like a camraconda¡­? Or¡­ just death, because the dungeon decides it?¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡±I choose camraconda.¡± Arrush said, trying to participate. ¡°But¡­ we make friends with them. So I¡¯m cheating, and choosing the answer that¡¯s good for me.¡± He tilted his angular head down at the floor, before looking back up, faceted eyes glinting in the Library¡¯s light. ¡°And good for the camracondas. Th-that¡¯s why it works.¡± ¡°Yeah, that might shoot MacDowell¡¯s whole existential despair in the foot.¡± James admitted. ¡°The fact that all the stuff that would be delver filters tends to end up living in our home base, and dating other members of the Order, sorta makes me feel better when I say it that way.¡± ¡±That reminds me!¡± Sarah said, trying her best to push herself into a functional state of mind. ¡°How are two of my favorite people doing now that you¡¯re dating? I wanna know!¡± ¡±Wow, that¡¯s some emotional whiplash.¡± Zhu commented from James¡¯ arm, watching the ceiling overhead for anything sneaking up on them. ¡°That was like conversational g forces.¡± ¡±Yeah, can we go back to the existential dread for the remainder of this walk?¡± James asked as they started moving again, red creeping up his cheeks as they checked their position and oriented toward the hanging rope ladder that would bring them back ¡®upstairs¡¯ and back to where Vad and Jesse were set up and waiting for them. ¡±No.¡± Arrush said, shaking his head as his paws started to pull knives out of the sheathes built into his armor. ¡°Because there is a floating book approaching us.¡± James let out a relieved huff. He actually didn¡¯t mind talking about their relationship, he just didn¡¯t want to do it now. And it was really handy of the dungeon to provide a little interdictionary when he needed it. He didn¡¯t say that pun out loud, but he was smiling wildly to himself as the drifting hive-like creature locked onto them and the fight started. And afterward, everyone was a little more tired, so the conversation got dropped until they were actually out, and off getting dinner together, in what James realized was kind of the weirdest double date he¡¯d ever been on. _____ They hadn¡¯t really discovered that much new, that night. But every delve was progress. Mapping and exploring, learning bit by bit. Sometimes, it just¡­ wasn¡¯t anything major. Sometimes it was just work, albeit risky and sometimes very dangerous work. But a day later, the greens and purples they brought back had copies of them made in the Office, and James split them with the rest of the group for the test run. Zhu got a material rank in foam, which was funny, while Arrush got one in uranium, which was either useless or useful but in a way no one wanted to consider. Sarah picked up material ranks in wool and nylon, which was suspicious but not enough to actually feel like it was targeted. Alanna was the other person besides James to use the purples, and so picked up a tool rank in 1996 Ford Mustang convertibles, which confirmed that the dungeon thought of cars as tools, and didn¡¯t exactly confirm but did make Alanna declare that it had taste. Before anyone could figure out if she was being sarcastic or not, she¡¯d used her other orb for a material rank in cardboard. And then there was James. He always loved this part, even though he refrained from just slamming down every orb he came across. He still liked the feeling, liked the implication that there was constantly active magic just making him a little bit better over time. Especially he liked how there was always a chance that there was going to be some kind of synergy, some kind of interaction that would really help catapult him forward and make his job as a paladin even easier. And it was with that hope in mind, and a happy smile, that he¡¯d cracked the big green and the leftover purple, recording the results to see if they were something the Order was going to want to keep in its own growing library of magic. [+1 Tool Rank : Wire Brush] [+3 Material Ranks : Keratin] ¡°¡­Hey Arrush¡­¡± ¡°Mmh?¡± The big ratroach looked up from where he was carefully writing with one of his ancillary paws, dutifully noting down what he¡¯d gotten and which labeled orb it had been from. The two of them were sort of by themselves; there were people around, but their spot at the end of the Lair¡¯s front counter was out of the way and the others had all left to go take care of other stuff for the day. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡±You¡¯re scheduled for the shaper surgery soon, right?¡± James asked quietly. ¡±¡­yes.¡± Arrush replied through an almost overwhelming burst of anxiety at the reminder. ¡±Right. Sorry. Hey Tino!¡± James called down the counter. ¡°I need one of the other copies of the big green!¡± He turned back to Arrush with a reassuring smile. ¡°I know I can¡¯t do a whole hell of a lot to help or make it not scary. But I¡¯ve got at least one thing for you that¡¯ll make part of it easier.¡± Sometimes, the dungeons gave them the power to change the world. Sometimes they handed out violations of physics that were as valuable as they were volatile. Sometimes they felt so dangerous and so unhelpful that it didn¡¯t seem worth it. But sometimes, times like today, they gave out something that James found a million times more valuable. They gave him ways to help. Not in the abstract, not eventually. To help, right now, someone he had decided he loved, and who needed it. And then later also in the abstract and a bunch of other people too. But that was for tomorrow. For today, he¡¯d settle for giving Arrush a little more control of his new body, when that happened in the near future. And he¡¯d thank the dungeon the next time they were in it, for the magic. Chapter 281 ¡°Boulder rolling! Now there¡¯s a sport!¡± -Chip Valvano, Super Monday Night Combat- _____ When James got back from grocery shopping for his shared apartment, he walked in with his head down. Focused on the struggle of kicking off his shoes while balancing a couple paper bags in his arms, before he could shift his way over to the counter and drop one of his payloads off. It wasn¡¯t especially heavy; a lot of it was granola bars, honestly. But it was unwieldy, and James had just climbed stairs with it. He wasn¡¯t completely blind; experience in being alert, a couple dungeon modifications, and just his own habit of scanning his apartment when he came in had all let him know that something had changed about the living room. But as he gave a puff of exhalation and turned to see what his partners were doing, he wasn¡¯t actually expecting anything that serious. So it was a slight surprise to see Alanna reclining topless on an ornate white and gold chaise lounge, watching James with a placidly content grin as she was fanned by all four equally shirtless Anesh standing around her holding comically large palm leaves that James had to assume were props. His girlfriend was eating grapes, presumably to complete the look. They hadn¡¯t even had grapes in the apartment when he¡¯d left on his walk, which meant that they¡¯d teleported away to get grapes to set this up. ¡°Well that¡¯s a new fetish, thanks.¡± James opened with as he watched Anesh try to synchronize with himself. ¡°What¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ you know¡­ up with all this? Also where¡¯d our couch go?¡± ¡±Well, I got a blue absorb for [Redesign Seating], and I needed to use it up because I don¡¯t see that one being useful.¡± Alanna said with a shrug, brushing her hair back off one shoulder. ¡°And Anesh was amicable to my suggestion.¡± ¡±That is our couch, is what she¡¯s telling you.¡± Anesh said, one of him pointing down at the lounge that Alanna was reclining on. ¡°But yes, it seemed funny.¡± All of him smiled with laughter dancing in his eyes. James smiled back, taking a moment to actually just appreciate how much he liked these people; clothed or otherwise, they were some of his favorite individuals on the planet. It had been a while since there¡¯d been any silly antics going on. Everything was all constant pushing for advantages, dealing with chaotic danger, and meetings or important conversations. The moments like this were rare, and he made the choice to savor it. A grape hit him on the nose. ¡°Ow, hey!¡± ¡±You¡¯re ogling!¡± Alanna said, covering herself with one arm as she lined up another grape. ¡±I¡­ wait, hang on!¡± James laughed at her mock indignity. He caught the next grape in his teeth. ¡°You absolute dork.¡± He said as he caught a third projectile while closing the gap between the counter and the couch. Alanna¡¯s royal guard of Anesh did absolutely nothing to stop him from tackling her, and successfully disarming her of fruit. ¡°I declare your reign of terror ended!¡± James announced. Anesh abandoned his palm leaves. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good!¡± One of him said. ¡°Because my arms were getting exhausted.¡± The other hims nodded in agreement. ¡°How was the shop, by the way?¡± ¡±Busy. Not bad though. Got some stuff for the road.¡± James rolled to look up at Anesh as Alanna struggled with muffled yells of protest underneath him. ¡°You sure you two don¡¯t wanna come along?¡± With a gasp of air, Alanna physically hoisted James off her and over the edge of the lounge, ignoring his surprised yelp as he slammed into their carpet. ¡°I¡¯m busy with Response stuff. We¡¯ve got our first actual structured civilian review coming up. So you¡¯re on your own. I mean, you¡¯re on your own whenever Zhu is sleeping. I trust you not to die though!¡± The fact that she said it like she was serious actually meant a lot to James. ¡±I¡¯d also appreciate you not dying.¡± Anesh nodded as the four of him found seats around the room. ¡°At least you get to go somewhere cool. I¡¯m tied up in a bunch of different projects. But if you need either of us, just call, yeah?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not gonna be alone.¡± James reminded them. ¡°Also¡­ yeah, it¡¯s pretty hot out. And I don¡¯t think Utah is gonna be better.¡± ¡±You could join us in partial nudity!¡± Alanna offered. ¡±I¡¯ve actually got a few last minute things to check on before I¡¯m out. Also I don¡¯t think any of the other people who live here would appreciate that.¡± James laughed. ¡°Actually, where is Auberdeen anyway?¡± ¡±College.¡± Anesh and Alanna chorused, before Anesh continued. ¡°It¡¯s actually hard to tell how ¡®smart¡¯ she actually is. She¡¯s obviously smarter than an average dog.¡± He ignored Alanna¡¯s Yogi Bear impression from her throne as he said that. ¡°But we don¡¯t have any way to compare. Is she human level? Is she just good at a few things? She¡¯s not even taking veterinary or biology classes anymore for summer term! She¡¯s doing media studies and literature! What does that mean?!¡± ¡±¡­that she¡¯s happy?¡± James asked tentatively. ¡°I mean, if her body bothered her, we¡¯d give her the tools to fix it. But it seems like she¡¯s just into something that¡¯s more fun to her, right?¡± He stopped as a thought occurred. ¡°Hey, are we paying for her school?¡± He asked. Alanna leaned over to look down at him where he was still laying on the floor. ¡°Yeah. That okay?¡± ¡±Oh, sure. I mean, money is so weird now.¡± He sighed. ¡°I should make a point to check on her when I get back. Keep an eye on her, please? I¡¯m worried now.¡± ¡±Sorry.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t sound too apologetic. ¡°So how long will you be away?¡± ¡±Dunno.¡± James sighed as he lay on the floor and enjoyed the cool contrast of the apartment¡¯s air conditioning after his walk in the late June sun. ¡°My target is within two weeks, just because there is other shit going on that I might be needed for. Teleporters are great, but splitting attention isn¡¯t as useful as focusing. For me, at least. So I¡¯ll be there until either things quiet down, or we find the dungeon and sort out the mess.¡± ¡±We¡¯ll miss you!¡± Alanna said. ¡°But also, we¡¯re absolutely gonna take the opportunity to sleep with other people!¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Literally. You hog too much of the bed.¡± ¡±It¡¯s my bed.¡± James tried to protest, but broke out into a laugh before he could get too upset. ¡°But yeah, have fun. Oh! And put the couch back! That¡¯s Auberdeen¡¯s bed, she needs that!¡± He stood up wiping a hand over his sweaty forehead. ¡°And hey. Just so you know, I love you both. If I don¡¯t see you again before I¡¯m out, just remember that.¡± ¡±Psh. Hard to forget.¡± Alanna said, rolling to her feet to wrap James in a hug that the various Anesh completed, trapping him in the center of a pile of bodies. ¡°Get going, we¡¯ll be here when you¡¯re done with your paladin stuff. And make sure to check in with Arrush before you go!¡± ¡±I know, I know! I¡¯ve got a million things to check.¡± James groaned. ¡°Gotta pack first. I¡¯m annoyed they won¡¯t let me bring the crown.¡± ¡±Well, it is irreplaceable, incredibly cool, and you do have a habit of getting the piss kicked out of you on missions like this.¡± Anesh reminded him. James kissed his boyfriend in a sequence of four loving motions, glaring at all of them as he did so, before he finally extricated himself and wordlessly escaped. They could banter all day if he let it happen. And he did want to let it happen. Some days, all he wanted to do was anything with these people he loved, forgetting the outside world and sinking into their own little realm where their humor and love and lust and creativity was all that mattered or was. Some days, they¡¯d have the chance, he knew. And he¡¯d cherish those days when they came. But right now, he had a job to do, and it was a fairly important one. First was preparation. There was already a group in Utah that was investigating, so he wasn¡¯t going to be completely alone or without support. But James still wanted to bring his own gear. And also snacks. So before leaving the apartment, he put together his own travel bag. It was a bit weird to him to have such a normal pre-trip ritual of packing clothes and a toothbrush, but altered to his new life as he included his shield bracers, emergency orb supply, a few dungeontech items, and potion thermoses. James had more tricks that he was comfortable making use of these days, and he did intend to use them if he needed to. When he got to the Lair, he had a few more things to do to prepare before he finished off his checklist and left the state. Refreshing his absorbed blue orbs, for one thing; having an appropriate supply of [Manipulate Asphalt], [Move Person], and [Separate Alloy] on hand put James in position to handle a surprising number of dangerous situations in the mundane world. He considered swapping one out for one of the newly discovered [Repair Glass] or [Sublimate Brick] orbs, both for utility and nostalgia respectively, but ultimately kept to what he¡¯d been training with just for consistency. He also spent about an hour cycling through refilling his Velocity, and then using the weird leveler crown that compressed it down, before refilling it again. Making one of his only direct attack spells more powerful, even if the process was a little finicky, and left him composing poetry in his head about the Lair¡¯s basement garden on the way out. James liked the crown. He liked how it did so many random things, including some he was certain he¡¯d forgotten. After that, he also took a little bit to restock his Utah spell slots with the spell that summoned a towel. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d need that, honestly, but being able to conjure anything was always a good option for a distraction. And then he felt ready. Ready for adventure, ready to take on the world and win. Which meant it was the perfect time to not do that, but instead finish his last run of checks on stuff before he headed south. A lot of what had been his job had been streamlined into good reporting and data archive practices by the Order, which James really appreciated. But there were still a few things that he needed to do in person. A lot of them were from medical, where personal information wasn¡¯t public, so that was his first stop. Banana had done excellently with her transformation, a piece of information that was a massive relief to James, and that he shared with Alanna instantly. She was still recovering, and would be unconscious for a day or two longer, probably. But she¡¯d be fine. Similarly in regards to Sewer victims, all the people who they¡¯d brought out a week ago were doing more or less okay. The hospital was starting to fill up with ratroaches that were kept under quarantine and observation as their infections were treated and they could be gotten more personal help by Recovery. The frog dog that James had hit with the Utah transformation spell was doing good too, which he¡¯d been curious about; the magic wasn¡¯t permanent, turned out, and his chart indicated that his frog parts were incredibly venomous, which was why part of his treatment was keeping him transformed for as much time as possible to alleviate suffering. He was non-verbal, but clearly intelligent and grateful, even if he was just as terrified as any new ratroach was and had a tendency to lash out. From another dungeon, the vent spider that had been brought back from a delve¡­ a month ago? Time was weird to James these days. A while back. The vent spider was fine. Less medical and more engineering, but Deb and her cohort of dungeon life doctors seemed devoted to merging the disciplines. They¡¯d moved down to Townton for recovery and social integration into the Order, which they¡¯d indicated a desire to be part of. They were working on a name. After that uplifting set of pieces of excellent news, James tracked down Nate and got the closest thing he could to straight answers about a different problem. Yes, Camille was still on indoor duty until the situation was under control, yes, the rogues were looking for her sister that was in the area, and yes, Nate was both aware of everything, and working on it. He told James that he¡¯d call if he couldn¡¯t handle it. But that he could handle it. James absolutely didn¡¯t believe him, but the whole point of the Order recruiting people was that James wasn''t the only one who could solve problems. James also did a few quick check ins with different survivors of things that the Order was taking care of right now. Most of these were handled by Recovery, but James was always happy to help field harder questions or suspicions when he had time. Today¡¯s was less fun, because it was mostly him meeting with the two youngest prisoners they¡¯d rescued from the last Status Quo, so he could tell them that the Order had hit another dead end locating their families. And then suspicion and guilt warring in his chest afterward, as James tried to figure out if they and their shapeshifter companions were sad or relieved at the news. He needed to have a much longer conversation with all of them in the near future. But not today. Today he had to make sure all the Status Quo kill command infomorphs had been eliminated - they had - and that their more dangerous stuff had all made it to the danger vault properly - it also had, though inventory took him a few minutes. The last official business thing was to check in with Karen on the Order¡¯s current financial state. The answer was ¡®fine¡¯. They were fine. The constant hiring of new people, and using their funds for both large projects and supporting victims or dependants, was draining. They had a lot of money, but were limited in varied and robust income streams, and Karen once again pointed out that most people did not make the Order money. Not as a negative, just as a thing to remember when planning for the future. And James was reminded that their lead accountant was something of a pessimist in every season. Since, under scrutiny, she did admit that they were on track to bring in almost half a billion dollars from their duplicated platinum sales this year. So James had just stared at her until she¡¯d given up and also admitted that even with their funding of both more recruiting and also an utterly pointless space elevator program, they were in the black, After that, there was just one more thing to do. ¡°Hey!¡± James said as he found Arrush outside the kitchen, taking a break as he ate his own lunch on a wooden bench that looked out over the Lair¡¯s back parking lot. The not-so-distant roaring of car engines from just atop the nearby slope reminding them both that they weren¡¯t so isolated from the thousands of normal humans going about their normal lives nearby. ¡°You¡¯re fun to track down.¡± Arrush grinned back at him in a glowing blue line as he cracked his muzzle and showed off his fangs openly. ¡°I am a challenge.¡± He said slyly. ¡°Very-¡° the ratroach cut off, one of his ancillary claws buried in his bowl of chips as he sniffed the air. ¡°Very¡­ ah¡­¡± ¡±You okay?¡± James asked with open concern as Arrush¡¯s eyes widened, every bare patch of hide on his face flushed a wild neon green, and his whole body seemed to shiver. ¡°Arrush?¡± Alarm entered James¡¯ voice as he stepped forward and took the plate out of his boyfriend¡¯s claw to set to the side before he dropped it. ¡°Hey. Talk to me.¡± ¡±¡­you smell good¡­¡± Arrush said in a breathy rasp, staring at James with all of his eyes wide and muzzle hanging open, before he realized he was unconsciously leaning closer, and jerked backward, a few drops of corrosive saliva scarring the wood of the old bench. ¡°Sorry!¡± He hissed rapidly. James took a relieved breath, trying to steady his heart rate. ¡°Oh! Fuck, I was worried there!¡± Arrush¡¯s words caught up to him, and realized his mistake. ¡°Oh shit, I¡¯m sorry. I was using the crown earlier, I absolutely forgot that it did this.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t mind!¡± Arrush¡¯s answer was instant and maybe a little guilty as some of his paws clasped at his limbs through the fabric of his light clothing. ¡°Ah¡­ hello. I am sorry, it feels like I made things¡­ weird.¡± With a snort, James shut that attitude down as fast as he could. ¡±Arrush, you¡¯re a seven foot tall half rodent half beetle thing from another dimension. You¡¯re also the first person I¡¯ve dated where we¡¯re taking our time on being intimate. Everything about this is weird. The world¡¯s most obtuse magic item isn¡¯t going to make it weird.¡± He sat down on the bench, downwind in the summer breeze for all the good that would do. ¡°Lucky for both of us, I actually just like weird.¡± Arrush¡¯s blush took on a different mood as he looked away, his spined antenna waving on the back of his head. ¡°I do too.¡± He said quietly. ¡°Thank you. I will try not to sniff you.¡± ¡±I¡­ don¡¯t know how to reply to that!¡± James laughed, not exactly bothered either way. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, seriously. I just wanted to drop by and say hi before I left.¡± ¡±¡­oh.¡± Arrush looked back at him, before looking away again. ¡°That¡¯s today.¡± He took a deep breath, and then flushed as a powerful shiver ran through his body and an unconscious whine escaped his muzzle. ¡°Agh, that is distracting.¡± He rasped out, joining James in a light laugh that was more of a wet clicking sound from him, even if the meaning was the same. ¡°I wish I were going with you. I will miss you, and be worried.¡± Arrush confided in his new partner. James opened his mouth to say that everything would be okay. That he¡¯d be fine, and be back before anyone missed him. But he stopped, because he was making a focused effort in his life to be more adaptable in his plans. ¡°Hey.¡± He said, setting a hand between them and enticing Arrush to lay one his heavy paws in it. ¡°Want to come with me?¡± He asked. The big ratroach¡¯s triangular head snapped around so fast James was worried he¡¯d hurt his own neck. ¡°What?¡± He almost whispered. ¡±Yeah, why not?¡± James shrugged, part of his brain realizing that he was sitting in direct June sunlight and already starting to overheat. He needed one of those temperature regulation orbs Alanna had gotten. ¡°I mean, it might be weird, because there¡¯ll be a bunch of strangers and ¡®normal humans¡¯ and stuff. But if you¡¯re uncomfortable you can just hang out at the hotel, and we can spend time together between whatever investigating I get up to.¡± ¡±I¡­ I would need to tell Keeka.¡± Arrush said, and James recognized the tone of someone who kinda wanted to do a thing, but was terrified by a break in routine and was looking for excuses. ¡°And I have a job.¡± ¡±First off, I bet money Keeka would be fine with it, especially since it¡¯ll let him spend some time with Anesh. I mean, if he can catch one of him while Anesh isn¡¯t busy. But you know what I mean. And as for your job, we can absolutely rearrange the schedule. That¡¯s the whole point of having more people available than work that needs doing, man.¡± James smiled and wove his fingers effortlessly through Arrush¡¯s capped claws. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun. But only if you really want to. If you go talk to your lovely little boyfriend, I can get someone to cover your shifts. I¡¯m probably telepading out in an hour, though. Short notice, I know.¡± Arrush had mostly stopped listening to James halfway through the speech. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, making a decision. ¡°Yes. Yes. I want¡­ I want to join you.¡± He stood up, shaking out his claw as he freed himself from James¡¯ grasp. His chest expanded as he took a deep and steadying breath, before he remembered that James was present and very difficult to ignore. So Arrush took several steps away. ¡°I will go do that. I need to find Keeka. And¡­¡± He declared his intent, before freezing and trailing off. ¡°Do I bring¡­ things?¡± ¡±Some extra clothes, usually. I¡¯m bringing snacks, even though it¡¯s not a ¡®road trip¡¯ exactly.¡± James was a little sad about that, but the last time he¡¯d gone on a road trip, something had exploded. ¡°Also, it¡¯s not¡­ specifically¡­ a combat operation. But I¡¯ve still got a bunch of shield bracers and dungeon gear. Wanna meet me in the lobby when you¡¯re ready?¡± Arrush nodded vigorously at him, before bursting into motion and vacating the little break area, taking what remained of his lunch with him. James shook his head, a wide smile stuck on his face as he watched his boyfriend go. It wasn¡¯t exactly what he¡¯d expected. And it really wouldn¡¯t be what anyone in Utah who wasn¡¯t Order would expect. But it felt comfortable, and fun, and what was the point of trying to be a hero if you couldn¡¯t have a little fun along the way? He talked to the pair of women who were running the kitchen today, and got someone filling in for Arrush for a bit. And then decided to wait outside in the summer afternoon, when he realized that lingering in the lobby full of ratroaches while the crown¡¯s effect was still causing him to emit apparently very strong pheromones was a terrible idea. And an hour later, James and Arrush linked hands, and vanished. Leaving the Order to fend for itself for a little bit. But James was sure it would be fine. After all, how much trouble could really happen when he wasn¡¯t watching? _____ A thousand miles away, Spire-Cast-Behind was observing an odd quirk in the life cycle of a human settlement. Specifically, she was learning that human cities didn¡¯t need the influence of a mad wizard or angry dungeon to end up in ruin. Though even the word ¡®city¡¯ implied a lot that wasn¡¯t going on here. Opheim, Montana, was an example of civic atrophy. According to all her historical research, it had never really been a thriving place, but it had been a calm and pleasant little town for a long time. It had been part of a transport system, and later a military system, which had kept money and therefore life, flowing through the area. But both of those were gone now, and what was left was a slowly crumbling skeleton that just so happened to play host to the lives of under a hundred people. Spire-Cast-Behind had set out into the world and quickly learned two things. In many cases, the Order of Endless Rooms was tiny. They were outnumbered by most high schools. Their ranks weren¡¯t enough to do much of anything at a large scale. But also, they were both populous and dense when compared to some specific places. And this dying town was one of them. The thing that struck her about it as tragic was that it was very, very easy to look at this academically. Regions required an amount of resources in order to sustain a relative amount of people and activities. If resources were not produced in a region, the region needed to provide value in other ways; often this was done through maximizing advantageous locations, or converting the land itself into a form of resource, which could be exchanged for more useful things. In simple - and cold - terms, Opheim generated neither resources nor value, and so it was vestigial to the greater civic body of human habitation. In real terms, though, the place felt like a graveyard. Actually Spire had only been in one graveyard so far, and only by accident, but it had felt a lot more cheerful than this place. The majority of the city was a six by three block zone, where cookie cutter houses stood one dusty empty lot away from unused silos or empty bars and a movie theater that closed a long time ago. There was a school. She¡¯d never been to school, not like humans meant when they talked about it, but there was something grim about the small empty building. Half the houses were empty too. Practically the only functional businesses were a grocery store, and a single bar that was de facto the best bar in town. There wasn¡¯t even a gas station when she arrived, even though the maps had said there would be. It almost reminded her of parts of Officium Mundi that she¡¯d never really seen when she was awake. Distant, very distant chunks of the dungeon where the entropy was turned up and things had begun to fall apart. Where dust suppressed even the emotions of her puppet self. Spire had a deep memory, a memory from before she began remembering, of moving through a place like that after being created. Or maybe it was all just a half-imagined dream. It was hard to tell. And the way the sky here looked like a dream itself didn¡¯t help. Grey and orange in the early evening, like a roiling ocean of clouds that were so disinterested in the affairs of mortals as they crashed overhead. It was a pure natural beauty that didn¡¯t look right over the old town. The mix of building styles that seemed out of step with each other, and the sunlit cloudscape, made Spire feel like she was already in a dungeon, just one she didn¡¯t understand. Maybe that¡¯s all Earth was. Right now, she was four miles northwest of the town itself. There was no road here, even the highway that ran through the dying patch of buildings was out of sight. But Spire was trying to be thorough in her search. ¡±So, are you looking for your spaceship or something?¡± The human that had followed her asked, jogging to keep up with her as she slithered over dirt that was at odds with where she was staying with how alive it was. Shoots of green and brown life were constant, and Spire tried to avoid crushing too many of the small plants, though it was hard. The human¡¯s name was Karl, named for his father, Karl. He had told Spire that his family had a ¡®proud history¡¯ here, but he¡¯d said it in that human way where he was lying. Spire-Cast-Behind was well aware of sarcasm, and in the same way that she was aware of uranium, she refused to touch it. Karl was one of the locals who was¡­ not helpful, exactly. He wasn¡¯t helping her so much as he was just desperate for a distraction. But he wasn¡¯t hostile. She¡¯d been admittedly surprised how no one had been overtly hostile after the first night. Her plan to completely abandon subtlety was working, and she wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that. Well, working was a stretch. She¡¯d arrived here a couple days ago following the trail of one of the Status Quo reports, and had announced her presence at the only place that was open at night. After starting, surviving, and winning the ensuing bar fight after one of the older human men had tried to stick his fingers into her cords, Spire had been granted a victory drink and an honorary citizenship. Now the remaining residents were more comfortable with her than with the two humans that were her backup on this errancy. Or something like that. It was unclear what the people here were actually thinking; they seemed divided into two camps, either long time residents who figured they¡¯d just wait out their own lifespans here, or a handful of individuals who felt trapped in this place and desperately wanted to leave. Karl was in the latter camp. Which was why he¡¯d been following her all day after seeing her going door to door and asking questions about the Status Quo presence in town twelve years ago. ¡±If I tell you, again, that I am not from space, will you stop asking annoying questions?¡± Spire asked him as she checked the map in her skulljack against her current position. ¡±Probably not. My mom says asking stupid questions is my divine birthright.¡± Spire irised her eye closed, enjoying the soothing void of seeing nothing for a moment. ¡°Really.¡± She was coming around on the sarcasm front really quickly. ¡±I¡¯m not really sure why she says it that way.¡± Karl admitted with a shrug of his scrawny shoulders. He was struggling to keep up with her, and trying to hide that he was practically panting. So Spire-Cast-Behind quietly slowed her pace, just for a little. ¡°So if you¡¯re not from space, are you from another dimension?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± ¡±Okay, well if you¡¯re- oh.¡± Karl sounded almost disappointed. ¡°Wait, really?¡± ¡±That depends.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind admitted. ¡°We use the term dimension or world when discussing the place that I am from, but it is unclear how, in actual physics terms, it interacts with this universe. It is entirely possible that I am simply ¡®from Earth¡¯.¡± She looked over at the boy, seeing him staring at her with wide eyes. ¡°I would say you could visit sometime, but we are trying not to bring children into dangerous places.¡± ¡±Montana¡¯s already dangerous.¡± He argued. ¡°Also I¡¯m not a kid!¡± Spire didn¡¯t argue, because whether it was a human, camraconda, ratroach, or stuff animal, there was no possible way to convince a child they were a child, and so she simply performed a conversational endrun around the problem. ¡°Montana is not actively trying to kill you.¡± ¡±Oh! You haven¡¯t met a moose!¡± ¡±¡­I¡­ have not¡­ no.¡± Spire kind of wanted to meet a moose now. ¡°Is there anything out here?¡± She asked him suddenly, swiveling her head around to look at the empty plain around them. It wasn¡¯t devoid of all things; there was plenty of dry grass and a few burrows and anthills. But it was just¡­ nowhere. And yet. Spire-Cast-Behind exhaled, her inhuman internals pressing the air out of her mouth as she tapped into her Breath. The evening was already cooling down, but her stylish camraconda coat kept her warm as she fired off Call To Blood paying the small cost for the tracking magic as she focused on the Status Quo agent that she was following. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. This was it. This was the next prior place he¡¯d been injured, in the chain that she¡¯d been tracing backward through time and distance. ¡±Mom says there used to be some kind of army base, but they left a long time ago.¡± Karl told her. Spire was aware of the US military history, and she¡¯d already checked out the site they had used. When they¡¯d left, they had left, taking almost everything with them. If they¡¯d done the same here, it would explain why there was nothing, but¡­ ¡±How quickly does grass grow?¡± Spire asked. ¡°Was there ever anything here?¡± ¡±I dunno.¡± The boy shrugged again in her periphery. ¡°Want some fresh potato bread?¡± He offered her a piece of baked good that, Spire would freely admit, smelled pretty good. ¡±Where did you get potato bread?¡± She asked, her mouth already full of potato bread that she had nabbed with a motion that would make an Earth viper proud. Karl looked down at his suddenly empty hand like he was only just realizing that Spire-Cast-Behind was actually a very large and very dangerous creature. ¡°Uh¡­ Mr. Dahl makes it. The bakery is kinda the only place here.¡± ¡±You have a bar.¡± ¡±I¡¯m nineteen.¡± Spire hissed to herself. She was very bad at judging human ages. ¡±Something tells me that none of your neighbors would say anything if you simply entered and declared you were to be served. They seem¡­ like that.¡± She took a moment to scan the mountains in the distance. There was nothing here. Nothing but a sweeping grassland, far off hills, and a road that she couldn¡¯t even see anymore. What had happened here? Why had this been the site of a¡­ battle? Spire couldn¡¯t even definitively say a fight had occurred here; a man might have simply slipped with his nail clippers, or gotten a nosebleed looking at pornography on his phone. Both completely normal human things to do four miles away from the nearest sign of human habitation. ¡±I have a strange suspicion that I am not going to find what I need here.¡± Spire said to herself, realizing that she¡¯d missed Karl¡¯s response. She caught sight of the human teenager staring off toward the town. ¡°¡­you¡¯re leaving.¡± He said. Not asking, just resigned to it. ¡±I don¡¯t know. No one here has information that can help. There is nothing that requires my attention, except¡­ well. I do not know how to revive a dying civic cell. My training did not cover that. There is no challenge here for me to meet.¡± The camraconda was uncomfortable talking about Ophiem like that. But she didn¡¯t know what else to say about it. What was she supposed to do? The people¡­ didn¡¯t like it here. But this was their home. Spire had talked to many of them, in her small investigation. A significant percentage of the town¡¯s population of sixty eight people. A lot of these humans didn¡¯t want to leave, for reasons that were often rooted in simple stubbornness, or exhaustion. Things she couldn¡¯t fix, not really. Others wanted the place to be better, but didn¡¯t want to leave it, but she didn¡¯t have a way to make that happen. There were no resources here to leverage. Spire could dump her entire campaign purse into the town, and it would only serve to buy it time. ¡°So you¡¯re leaving.¡± Karl said again. ¡±I am.¡± ¡±Take me with you.¡± His voice had a different accent than the humans Spire was used to, a mix of an old far away tradition, and the more contemporary voice of Montana. It was interesting, but not hard to understand or read the emotion in. More than accents or languages, Spire-Cast-Behind knew the sound of desperation. ¡°You¡¯re the only thing that¡¯s happened here, my whole life, that wasn¡¯t someone dying. Please. Please. Take me with you. Get me out of here.¡± Spire let out a long hiss, and stared up at the sky overhead, the lingering taste of the flatbread on her forked tongue. She knew nothing about this human, except that he saw her as an opportunity. A novelty. And that made her feel¡­ somehow lesser than she¡¯d expected. It had been in the back of her mind for days that she very well might recruit her own cadre along this journey. But this hadn¡¯t been how she¡¯d imagined it going. James had found his people by rescuing them, not rescued people by making them his, after all. The sun dipped slightly lower, and abruptly, the camraconda realized there was something on the field with them. ¡°Karl.¡± She said slowly, lowering her head at a measured pace, unfolding her mechanical arms as softly as she could. ¡°Look behind me. Do not scream or make loud noises. Tell me if we are surrounded.¡± ¡±¡­uh¡­ no? What¡­ what are¡­¡± The kid moved too quickly. He was going to startle whatever the things made of orange light and black smoke were. And Spire got the distinct impression that they were not here to make friends, possibly because they were holding mundane cleavers and axes that were all too physical. ¡±When I begin to move, run for the road.¡± Spire said as quietly as she could. ¡°Find Tyrone or Riho. I may require help, or medical attention. If we both survive, I will take you with us when we leave, but I may not be leaving for some time. Are you ready?¡± ¡°Y-y-yeah!¡± His voice skipped and cracked, shooting up an octave. ¡±Good. Begin.¡± Spire spoke at the moment one of the humanoid figures began to rush her. This was not what she¡¯d been expecting. But, strangely, she felt far more comfortable with open combat than with trying to talk to more strange humans who she couldn¡¯t help. So for now, she enjoyed the simplicity of battle. Three targets. One approaching on her flank. Spire kept her camraconda ability in reserve, to surprise them when they got near. They were made of light and smoke, humanoid but not human. She shot one with a hand crossbow, running the routine on her arm to reload it without having to focus, and the bolt passed straight through. They were on her already. But focusing on her, not the human. That was good. He could not run four miles before this fight was over; she was nominally on her own. Though Spire felt she had it in coil. The cleaver the fastest one was wielding came down at her head, and she shot that one too. It flinched, even as the bolt streaked away into the Montana twilight with a string of light following it, and Spire used that distraction to twist herself to the side and out of the strike. Her coil flipped the legs out from under the one that had been flanking, and she found it strangely solid when she made contact. That was bad. She didn¡¯t want to have to bite them. Spire-Cast-Behind was tired of tasting blood. Or¡­ whatever they had. Ichor, probably. What these things were, and how they were even here, were secondary concerns as Spire flung herself into the dirt and rolled sideways, a writing column of snake evading a hit from a rusty old wood axe and a chipped combat knife as she twisted and brought herself up behind the two that were on their ¡®feet¡¯. ¡°Authority.¡± She hissed, infusing the hiss with the word instead of speaking English that her enemies might understand. ¡°Make that one solid.¡± The cute little ribbon she wore around her neck unfurled into the ghostly green entity that drew strength from her organizational position. As a new paladin, Spire didn¡¯t have a lot of that strength, and her authority had been struggling after her change in job title from administrative assistant. But it did offer a spike in flexibility, if not intelligence, and the green ribbon did an excellent job of coiling around the wrist holding the knife, and yanking it up into the air. Then Spire shot it with both her hand crossbows, the reload automatic at this point, and watched as the bolts punched into it and the orange light burst away like it had been freed. The next one that silently charged her she stopped in its tracks with her eye, before sighing and resorting to lashing her body forward and sinking bronze fangs into it. It was solid, and it did taste like ichor. She fucking knew it. But either way, its light blitzed away in small fragments, and that left only one left. The fight didn¡¯t last long. But afterward, Spire was left with three corpses of semi physical smoke, and no answers. When her teammates arrived at high speed in the old pickup truck they were using to get around, Spire realized that she was going to have to stay here a little longer. And also figure out what to do with a teenage human. ¡°What.¡± She asked the open air, her allies, the shadow chunks being loaded into the pickup truck, and the long dead agent she was tracking. ¡°Was happening here?¡± _____ Chevoy and the men and women who kept treating her like a project leader watched the replay footage of their creation falling from the sky. It didn¡¯t burn up on reentry, and they¡¯d attached a tracking beacon so finding it had been pretty easy, but it was still disheartening to see over and over again. ¡±Material strength is fine. That easily should have survived the forces at play, even at that height.¡± Shivan said, folding his arms over his belly as he leaned back in his seat. ¡°We can¡¯t go up to carbon nanotubes. We can¡¯t make it, and no one will make it for us. Doesn¡¯t matter how much money the bosses want to throw around, you can¡¯t just say ¡®we might be building something orbital¡¯ and get help with it without a lot of questions.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not like we¡¯re putting weapons up there.¡± Richter challenged the other engineer. The two of them had been bickering about what constituted an orbital weapon for as long as they¡¯d been here, and Chevoy mostly just ignored them. ¡±Mars.¡± She said, tapping a finger on her arm. ¡°What height was that at?¡± ¡±Uh¡­ three hundred kilometers. Yeah. Three hundred and two point two. Why?¡± ¡±So edge of the ionosphere?¡± Chevoy frowned. ¡°Why?¡± Mars and the others looked at each other, then back at her. ¡°That¡­ that is our job to figure out, yeah.¡± He told her. Mars was the only one who¡¯d banter with her; usually Chevoy liked it, but today, she just wanted to know why their space elevator didn¡¯t go past a certain point. ¡±Okay.¡± She declared. ¡°We need to actually launch something into orbit.¡± Shivan raised his eyebrows. ¡°Yes. We know. That¡¯s why you pay all of us to work on modular extendable space elevator designs.¡± ¡±No, you dumbass. I mean we need to¡­ I don¡¯t know, buy time with someone else¡¯s space shuttle or something. However people put communications satellites up. We need to do that. Because we need to send up other magics, and see what does and doesn¡¯t fail outside of the ionosphere. It¡¯s obviously a soft line, I want to know how soft, and how line.¡± Richter glanced up from where he was flicking a finger across his phone screen. ¡±I feel like I hate that working here has led to me understanding you. Also who do we even talk to about that? NASA? Can we just talk to NASA?¡± ¡±They might take our calls. ISRO might too. Shivan-¡° ¡±If you ask me if I can talk to the Indian government, just because I¡¯m Indian, I¡¯m going to find a way to sue you even though you¡¯re invisible to lawyers.¡± Chevoy scowled at him ¡±¡­I was going to tell you to start working on tests. Richter, Mars, if it is a hard line, figure out how we can still make use of what we¡¯ve got so far anyway. None of us are going to talk to anyone in a government. That¡¯s what Redding and his suits are for.¡± She looked up as the door opened, and Frequency-Of-Sunlight slithered in. ¡°Hey Sunny. What¡¯cha need?¡± The brightly colored camraconda stretched her neck in a loop as she set a couple packages on one of the tables cluttered with models and welding gear. ¡°Just dropping off your mail! You¡¯ve got A, weird stuff that doesn¡¯t carry well, and B, some kind of package that¡¯s valuable enough that logistics was weird about it.¡± ¡±Ooh, my chips!¡± Shivan grunted as he sat upright and started rolling his chair across the smooth floor of the design lab. ¡±Sure.¡± Sunny looked at the projector screen where the footage of the failed test was playing from multiple angles on loop. ¡°I don¡¯t get this, but I¡¯m glad you guys are having fun!¡± She told them cheerfully. Chevoy chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s a value thing. If we can successfully lift payloads out of the atmosphere, it opens up space travel in an unprecedented way. Colonization, mining, exploration, all sorts of stuff is suddenly a fraction of the cost and risk.¡± She pointed at the screen where their elevator prototype tipped sideways and dropped, right on cue. ¡°We just need that to stop happening.¡± ¡±¡­Wait, that can lift stuff?¡± Sunny asked. ¡±That¡¯s sorta the point, yeah.¡± Richter was new enough that he was still getting used to the camracondas, but he could at least answer that simple of a question. Frequency-Of-Sunlight gave him a slow, bobbing nod. ¡°So, would it work for the shipping network thing that we¡¯re building?¡± Mars shook his head sadly. ¡°The paperweights are too bulky for copying them to be ¡®worth it¡¯ for that, especially when cranes exist and are cheaper. Their only real value comes from actually getting us to orbit. But¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡±But uh things fall from the sky.¡± Sunny got it. ¡°Weird how they keep falling.¡± She said, slithering for the door. ¡°Well have fun with your mail! Don¡¯t make me send someone to remind you all to take breaks and eat food!¡± She was gone for six seconds before the entire room full of engineers, both those who were watching and bantering, and those who were fine tuning other parts of the project, made collective eye contact, and then a mad scramble erupted. Why did it keep falling? _____ ¡°Hello everyone!¡± Marlea smacked her palms together as she greeted the five newish people in the Lair¡¯s lobby. It was exciting; for the first time, she wasn¡¯t the new person anymore. She belonged here, and now it was her turn to get someone else acquainted with the Order. Though she wished that it wasn¡¯t so easy to recognize which four of the five had never been in a real fight; that was experience she could have left. ¡°Welcome in!¡± She continued as one of her minds mused poetic. ¡°I¡¯m Marlea, I¡¯ll be showing you around today. Mostly this is an incomplete tour slash orientation, but we¡¯ve found that dunking you all into the deep end is the best way to figure out where we need to focus for you personally. Any questions before we get started?¡± One girl in the back raised her hand. ¡°Why do you have bodyguards?¡± Marlea hadn¡¯t actually heard that one yet. ¡°Hi. I¡¯m also Marlea.¡± Both her other bodies said, raising their hands to wave, not exactly in unison, but close to it. ¡°I am one person, made up of these three people, and I can do this because of magic and our exceptional wifi in the Lair. If you¡¯re interested, I¡¯ve got some writings on it I can share after, but it¡¯s more personal, and I¡¯m not the most interesting thing here. Any other questions?¡± ¡±This won¡¯t take long, right? Like, how big is the building?¡± Marlea¡¯s smile was a little mean. She threw them in the deep end, and took them to one of the basements first. ¡±This is the heart of Research. Be on your guard!¡± Marlea said, two of her presenting the Research chaosium to the new people as if it were a panorama framed by her arms. ¡°A lot of the mechanical and digital development is done in the different side labs at this point, and we do the dangerous spatial testing in the middle of nowhere. But a bunch of people still keep desks here, as a place to meet up and workshop ideas.¡± Three of the new people were laser focused on the group of shellaxies in the pen in the middle of the floor. But two of them were looking around at the note-covered whiteboards, stacks of items both magical and expensively mundane just left lying around, and also at John who was in the process of testing pencils, sighing deeply, and breaking them into blue orbs one by one. ¡±This feels like¡­¡± one of them started to say. ¡±¡­an intentional attempt to generate¡­¡± another one continued ¡±¡­interdisciplinary communication and comradery, through a shared experience.¡± A third stopped looking at the shellaxies and finished. Marlea nodded. ¡°Correct! Also don¡¯t use up the lamp charge! We need that for the thing you all just thought of!¡± She clapped her hands again. ¡°Now, let¡¯s go check out the alchemy section, and I can point out all the doors you absolutely shouldn¡¯t go in without knowing what¡¯s in them.¡± The Research tour didn¡¯t take as long as she¡¯d expected, especially after she told them to hold their questions for the end. ¡±This elevator goes to all the basements.¡± She narrated as they rode the lift down so she could introduce them to the park and apartments. ¡°Please do not link it to anything else, we already do an endless battery of safety checks every week and I don¡¯t want to add to it.¡± They liked the apartments. Or at least, they stared with wide eyes and looked like they all wanted to break the commandment about saving questions. So Marlea relented, and let them ask, and she explained the variety of effects that let the Order build their own housing complex here in a single basement room. It wasn¡¯t really that many, but it felt good to know. She took them to the baths, pointing stuff out on the way. ¡°Down that hall is the shooting range, which is mostly for testing and not for accuracy training, just cause it¡¯d get too noisy. If you go that way and take the little hall on the left, you can find where Cam stays. Don¡¯t bother her, unless you¡¯re being threatened, in which case bother her immediately. Down that hall is the easiest stair route to get back to the Research side; just go down, then go through the adjacent door, and back up, and you¡¯re there. Oh, that gets you to Rufus¡¯s garden, which sounds like a hookah bar, but is actually just a cool place to look at weird plants. Down that hall¡­¡± Marlea paused. ¡°Don¡¯t go down that hall. Not for any ominous reason, I think it¡¯s just under renovation right now.¡± They had some questions about the baths, when they got there. There was actually a second bath being worked on, but this one had been expanded a bit. The murals on the wall were cool, Marlea liked how they made the place feel a little bit cheesy. A little amateur. It was authentic, in a way one of her past lives had struggled with. She fielded the inquiries about public nudity, awkward social behavior, and where the towels went, before she took them back upstairs. ¡±This is the dining¡­ thing. Cafeteria? It¡¯s not really a cafeteria, but it¡¯s not really a restaurant either. There¡¯s five meal services a day, because we¡¯ve got some people on weird hours, and also cause ratroaches and Researchers don¡¯t sleep like normal humans. You can always get food here. I¡¯ve got a note to be explicit about this; this food is here, for you, for free.¡± Two of the people tried to hold back or hide tears, respectively, and Marlea decided she didn¡¯t want to deal with that, so she moved them on quickly. ¡±This is the logistics desk.¡± ¡±Hi.¡± The chubby Hawaiian guy crouched behind the counter and enthusiastically digging through boxes waved at them, one arm poking over the edge. ¡°You caught us at a weird moment. You¡¯ll only ever catch us at weird moments!¡± Tino laughed from where his search continued unpaused. Marlea mostly ignored that. ¡±Everyone has a magic stipend, which is balanced against what we actually get from the dungeons. You get more depending on what tasks you pick up and how complicated they are, and the prices change based on supply, but they sorta trend downward except when we hire new people for a bit. You can check yours on the server, which you¡¯ll get access to tomorrow, or just ask Midnight here, which is what I do.¡± The camraconda whipped his head around like a video game security camera locking onto a target. ¡°You have several brains, every one of them capable of remembering numbers. Why do you insist on bothering-¡° ¡±Midnight knows lots of stuff. Moving on!¡± Marlea led them into the operations center, making sure to move them out of the way as she kept talking. ¡°Oh, also don¡¯t use green orbs in the Lair without checking first. You can, you just have to check and record it, like with your intro packages. Anyway, this is where we plan delves and stuff. It looks like Research, but it¡¯s more fun. This is where I work, when I¡¯m not actively delving. Is anyone here in on the delver route?¡± Two of them were, one of whom spoke up. ¡°I think I¡¯m supposed to be going to an attic later?¡± ¡±Ah, Clutter Ascent!¡± Marlea nodded, providing thoughtful backup hums for herself. ¡°Good place to start. Less delver-y than the others though. Oh, pro tip, don¡¯t go into the Sewer without one of those air freshener spray cans. It won¡¯t help, but it hates that, which makes it worth it.¡± She walked them out the back and into the late June evening. ¡°This is our parking lot. Most people don¡¯t drive, so the back lot is kind of a free for all right now. They were using it as a training course, but now I think Nik¡¯s making a go-kart track.¡± She pointed at the twenty foot wide patch of barkdust and fir trees that separated them from the next property ¡°We are directly adjacent to a state government building. It¡¯s not like they¡¯re cops or anything, but we¡¯re trying to be polite, so don¡¯t fuck with stuff over there, and definitely don¡¯t mess with the trees.¡± One of them asked why, and Marlea felt weird for having to explain that trees were an important part of the local ecosystem. She felt like this was one of those thoughts that only one of her brains had, before she started saying it, but it seemed important to her. She kept showing them around a bit more, going up and down stairs to point out the place new camracondas were socialized, the well decorated rooms they had set aside for therapist sessions, how to spot the giant invisible cat before it ambushed you with licks and demanded treats, and where you could find Response. ¡±We¡¯re not going to Response,¡± she told them as they stood in a loose semicircle in the lobby, near the stairway door that led to Response¡¯s floor. ¡°Because they¡¯re serious business, and busy. Oh, but here¡¯s Harvey! Harvey is kinda stealthy, even if you work in Response. He¡¯s like our local cryptid, only he does scheduling and sometimes he runs into burning buildings to save babies.¡± ¡±I¡¯m good at prioritizing¡± Harvey said by way of explanation in his soothing bassy voice. ¡°Also you never see me because you¡¯re not at the civilian oversight meetings. Now get your squad of newbies out of my way, I¡¯m headed to one of those meetings that aren¡¯t for you.¡± ¡±If you take a photo of him, it¡¯ll come out blurry.¡± Marlea lied as they stopped blocking the door. Harvey didn¡¯t rise to the bait. He¡¯d heard worse from better jokers. He just chuckled, a rich note adding to a confident smile sent toward the new people, before he headed back to work. ¡±Alright!¡± Marlea clapped again. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a lot of it. Not everything, but the highlights. Now, who has questions!¡± They all did. She let one of her bodies sigh, and enjoyed the light catharsis. They were going to be here for a while; she might need to let her delve team know she¡¯d be a little late to their Climb route planning tonight. _____ Morgan felt weird going to therapy. The office was nice. Lots of little plants, nice couch, especially now that someone had a spell that fixed couches and there were no more little acid marks from the previous ratroach patients, sunlight coming through the blinds. The whole ¡®being underground¡¯ thing didn¡¯t stop the sunlight, which Morgan thought was cool. Recently, Morgan had decided it was okay for things to be cool. Another change that he felt weird about. But it was working out so far. Therapy was working less. He wasn¡¯t really sure what he was supposed to do. James just sort of insisted on it. And the worst part was, Morgan couldn¡¯t even call him a hypocrite on it, since James had his own weekly sessions and he wasn¡¯t exactly hiding it. It didn¡¯t help that Connie, his therapist, was a little too understanding. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯ve had a rough week.¡± She told him sympathetically. Morgan started to shrug, before remembering that he was supposed to try to redirect that reflex into consciously thinking on his answers. He wished he felt comfortable enough to lay down on the couch, that¡¯d at least be more comfortable. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ whatever.¡± He said. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not great. But things are good. Uh¡­ like, in the real world, things are going good. And everyone else has things worse, right?¡± ¡±Morgan.¡± Connie had this thing she did that he kind of hated, where she didn¡¯t say his name like she was admonishing him. Instead, she just sort of intoned it like she was demanding he not lie to himself. Which was, somehow, worse. ¡°Let¡¯s try this again. It sounds like you¡¯ve had a rough week.¡± ¡±¡­Yeah.¡± He said. ¡°I did. I¡­ it¡¯s.¡± He took a deep breath, a little annoyed that the ways he¡¯d been learning to work through his emotions worked. Deciding that he didn¡¯t care about looking silly, he titled sideways and let his head slam into one of the pillows on the side of the couch. ¡°My mom¡¯s been gone for another year.¡± He said. ¡°It was¡­ it was always sort of possible before, you know? That she¡¯d just come back. But not this time.¡± He felt like he couldn¡¯t properly get his arms to move, which was annoying. ¡°And I still miss her.¡± His voice cracked as he said it. Connie watched him steadily, neither judging nor soothing. ¡°Of course you do.¡± She said instead. ¡°She was important to you. Missing someone that mattered is perfectly healthy.¡± The woman adjusted her wide circular frame glasses and sighed sharply. ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate that healthy doesn¡¯t mean painless. Did you do anything to remember your mother? Small things can become comforting rituals over time.¡± Morgan nodded. ¡°I went to visit her grave, since¡­ you know. She¡¯s buried now. Liz and Dawn went with me.¡± And had gotten to see him cry a lot, which actually wasn¡¯t as bad as he¡¯d thought. ¡°Supportive friends are a rare find.¡± Connie said in her steady neutral tone. Morgan was almost certain she knew they weren¡¯t just friends, even though he¡¯d never told his therapist otherwise. But she never made him feel like he had to share what he didn¡¯t want to. ¡°So you¡¯re feeling overwhelmed?¡± ¡±Sorta. I guess. I mean, everything¡¯s normal. I¡¯m doing most of the normal stuff. But with the paladin ceremony, and¡­ and mom being gone¡­¡± Morgan took advantage of Connie¡¯s promise to never rush him, taking a moment to breathe and let himself not have to rush through conversation. ¡°It was weird seeing Simon on stage.¡± Morgan laughed a little. ¡°He said he was fine mentoring me for a while, but¡­ well, he¡¯s gone now.¡± ¡±You want to be a paladin too?¡± Connie asked. ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t?¡± Morgan knew that there were lots of people who wouldn¡¯t. But that was fine. He wanted it. ¡°I mean, yeah. I do. Not just cause of, like, James or anything. But I¡¯ve been here for over a year now, right? And all the time, there¡¯s people who need help. Bad. And that¡¯s what I wanna do.¡± He felt a little embarrassed by it; just at the age when he was starting to outgrow the childhood dream of being a superhero, but suddenly presented with the real world option of it anyway. Connie smiled at him peacefully. ¡°Goals are good to have, especially a big one like that. It might be a while though. Are you planning to take up the offer of college?¡± ¡±I¡¯m applying. Liz helped me get my GED.¡± And boy was he proud of that. He wasn¡¯t some dumbass high school dropout anymore. He was an educated high school dropout, and that felt good, even if it meant he probably wouldn¡¯t be participating in the Order¡¯s trial run of some weird new form of schooling. ¡°Might do a trade school. But¡­ I might just stay here. Wait for Simon to come back, learn things the Order way. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever have a degree, but I don¡¯t need one around here.¡± ¡±Mmm.¡± Connie¡¯s mild disproval was kept well contained. ¡°Don¡¯t stop yourself just because you don¡¯t need something. I¡¯m no guidance counselor, but the college experience can be valuable. If you¡¯re trading it for something else, make sure you¡¯re doing it on purpose. And always know that having a backup plan is useful. Like with Simon¡­ if you aren¡¯t certain when he¡¯ll be back, it makes sense to have a fallback, just in case.¡± Rolling back to a sitting position, Morgan swept his hair out of his face as he nodded, trying to prove that he was taking this seriously. ¡°Oh, yeah, like I said. I applied to some places.¡± The same places Liz had, by coincidence. ¡°Simon¡¯s¡­ I dunno, doing something in Uruguay. I know he didn¡¯t just ditch me.¡± Morgan was pretty sure, anyway. The Order was different than the rest of his life had been. People didn¡¯t abandon you here. ¡±If you¡¯re worried, you could get in touch with him. I¡¯m sure he wouldn¡¯t mind a text or email, just to show that you¡¯re still interested.¡± Connie gave him a small lopsided smile as she tucked a strand of her own curly hair behind her ear. ¡°Everyone needs some validation sometimes, Morgan. Simon might not understand that you¡¯re serious about what you want, or might not know that you think highly of him. Communication-¡° ¡±-solves most problems before they start.¡± Morgan finished, making direct eye contact with a very serious expression, until the two of them both laughed together. ¡°I know, I know. I just¡­ have¡­ a good excuse.¡± Connie cocked a single eyebrow at him, a feat that Morgan felt like too many people in this building were capable of. ¡°I¡¯ll think of a good excuse!¡± He said. She shook her head. ¡°I know you¡¯re joking, but it¡¯s important to be honest with yourself. If you¡¯re not comfortable doing it, then it would help to vocalize why, so you can either decide to do it or not, and avoid making more stress for yourself.¡± ¡±I knowwwwww.¡± Morgan groaned. ¡°I am uncomfortable. But it¡¯s stupid, and I know that. So I¡¯ll just do it tonight.¡± He nodded firmly, once. ¡°It¡¯s also dumb that it feels good to, like, have that as a plan.¡± ¡±Plans are helpful, because it lets your brain stop stressing.¡± Connie told him. ¡°Speaking of, last time you had said that you were thinking of spending all those stipend points you¡¯ve been sitting on. Have you thought more about that?¡± Morgan grinned. ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t a guidance counselor.¡± ¡±Ah, but you were second guessing yourself, and I am here to listen.¡± Connie grinned back at him, in a way that made Morgan feel like he was actually being listened to, and she wasn¡¯t just saying empty words. He leaned forward on the couch, much more comfortable and interested in talking about this part. ¡°I¡¯ve got enough saved up to get a Sewer book.¡± He said. ¡°And¡­ they seem good? No matter what it ends up being, it seems like such a good place to start, right?¡± ¡±Well.¡± Connie said, trying to conceal her reservations and remain a neutral helper. ¡°That is your choice, ultimately. I think the biggest question you need to ask yourself, Morgan, is what you want. Do you want this? Because no matter what, a Lesson changes you.¡± ¡±I hope so, that¡¯s the point.¡± She pursed her lips in a thin line at him, though not a judgmental one. ¡°No, Morgan, it changes your incentives.¡± Connie explained. ¡°Once you have a Lesson, whatever topic it is in, you are pushed into. It¡¯s not like selecting a major, or even applying to university, where your ultimate decision is flexible and you can switch anytime. You¡¯re going to be motivated into that subject for the rest of your life.¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± Morgan took a deep breath. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯ll change me. But¡­ that¡¯s okay, right? El kept telling me that everyone changes, and it¡¯s just up to us to not change into someone shitty. But she also said that between swearing at another car, so¡­¡± Connie tried not to laugh. ¡°El is¡­ not¡­ wrong. But I¡¯d rather ask you this. Do you want that kind of responsibility?¡± ¡±Responsibility?¡± Connie nodded while Morgan looked at the sunlight streaming through the blinds that shouldn¡¯t have a real window behind them. ¡°All power is responsibility. The more you ignore that, the more damage you do to those around you. This has always been true, but right now, with the way the Order has actual magic and the way the word ¡®power¡¯ means a lot more, it¡¯s much more important to confront it directly before you make a choice like this.¡± ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought about that.¡± Morgan admitted. ¡°But it would be cool. And it¡¯s kind of a goal, too, the way the Lessons work, even if it does pick the goal for me. And goals are useful like you said. I guess it would be something to work toward while I figure everything else out, right? And then, when I¡­ when I need it, it¡¯ll always be there. Is that a bad way to think of it?¡± She set the pad of paper and pen she was taking notes with down on her side table. ¡°You¡¯re taking the eternally complex question of what to do with your entire life, and you¡¯re finding a foothold to begin answering it in your own way.¡± Connie folded her hands in her lap, watching Morgan from her chair across the room. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s bad at all. I think you do know what you want, and I think you¡¯re looking for ways to get there. That seems like the kind of thing a young man does when he¡¯s thinking ahead.¡± Morgan nodded, failing to keep his cheeks from turning hot at the praise. He was getting better at processing a lot of his emotions, but not this one. People didn¡¯t just compliment him, it was weird. ¡°Alright.¡± He said, trying to cover it up. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go for it. I think¡­ I think it¡¯ll be useful, no matter what I decide. Maybe I¡¯ll get one in gardening.¡± ¡±Maybe.¡± Connie just felt happy that he¡¯d come to a conclusion for himself. ¡°Now. We¡¯re about done for the day. Is there anything you¡¯d like me to make a note for, for next time?¡± ¡±Thanks.¡± Morgan said. ¡°Nothing really. But¡­ thanks. You know, for helping.¡± Connie kept the smile, but shook her head slightly. ¡±Always happy to have a conversation with you, Morgan. Just remember that you¡¯re helping yourself more than I am. You¡¯re doing a good job. Don¡¯t let anyone tell you otherwise.¡± He left feeling lighter than when he¡¯d entered. Not like anything had changed, exactly. Just that he was a little more in tune with his own thoughts. Like he wasn¡¯t fighting himself quite as much. The day felt like it was pleasant. Like for once, there wasn¡¯t trouble happening just out of Morgan¡¯s line of sight. He wondered if James ever felt that way. Probably. James seemed like he always knew everything going on in the Order though. So if there was trouble, he¡¯d know. Right now, Morgan headed upstairs to buy a book. Content in the feeling that everything was going smoothly, at least for today. Chapter 282 ¡°Step 1E. Fear.¡± -how to make jorts, Brian David Gilbert- _____ North Smiths, Utah, was experiencing pretty heavy winds when James and Arrush arrived in it, to an absolute lack of fanfare. Not one to be caught getting hit in the head by stray lumber again, James snatched a branch out of the air just before it slapped into his face, and dropped it to the sidewalk to be taken away by the ongoing gale. ¡±I didn¡¯t think tornado was on the menu today!¡± He shouted into the wind, trying not to lose his balance. Next to him, Arrush almost did get shoved backward, but the ratroach¡¯s bifurcated tail caught him on the pavement and kept him upright. ¡°Let¡¯s- awkkkguhgh!¡± His comment devolved into random noises as something got carried by a gust into his open mouth. Hoping that he hadn¡¯t just eaten whatever the most common native bug was, James pointed up the driveway of the house the telepad had put them in front of, and hoisted his luggage as he led Arrush up the fancy stonework path through the manicured lawn. Suburbia. James¡¯ worst nightmare. And not even because of the traumatic memories of being dumped into a suburb-based dungeon; being injured, poisoned, plagued, and forced to watch a large portion of the civilians he was trying to shepard out die to those things even as he survived them all. That was bad, sure. Some nights, it was bad, and there were times where if he hadn¡¯t had his partners with him James wasn¡¯t sure how he would have made it this long living with it. But it was a trauma he was working through. It was an event, and it was in his past. If he ever went into the Stratified Underburbs again, it would be with a grenade launcher and a score to settle. Regular normal suburbia was a lot harder to deal with, because a lot of polite society frowned on firing a grenade launcher into it. The suburbs just felt like a special kind of lie to James. Everything was always so clean, but only because no one ever existed there. The yards were cared for by hired help that didn¡¯t live anywhere near here, the trees lining the sidewalk were from somewhere else and had barely taken root in their transplanted homes. It felt like a shell of a place; too much space for too few people, even without the magic an orange totem could bring to life. This house was an Air B&B, which James already had a problem with, in the middle of an upper-middle class suburb. It was a very pretty facade, that was actually part of a parasitic development strategy that unintentionally drained useful resources away from both rural and urban places that needed them more. All so someone could have a really nice lawn. The wind died down as they got halfway up the walkway to the front door, the skinny transplanted trees going from whipping about to gently swaying. At least, James figured, the odd weather had the wide street empty of people. Or maybe that was just what it was like here; he was feeling cheerfully uncharitable toward suburbia today. He knew bringing Arrush along would, at some point, lead to a clash of some kind. But it was one James knew was coming eventually anyway. The ratroaches couldn¡¯t just hide under the Order forever; they needed to be able to live openly. And that meant taking the steps to start doing that, because the world would never change without being prompted to do so. Still, at least the wind gave them a quiet moment to drop off their bags first. A rapid knock on the door got a quick answer from a middle aged man that James recognized as one of the people in the Order who specialized in checking places for new dungeons. Well, specialized in that they were the ones who took the jobs, not specialized in that they found dungeons. Dungeons were, it turned out, really fucking hard to find. Most people found them by pure luck, and statistically a lot of those people didn¡¯t have the luck to survive their first delve. Those that did, didn¡¯t seem to advertise much. Or their attempts got caught up by whatever memeplexes ate the information out of circulation. ¡±Hey Charlie.¡± James greeted the man, offering a handshake. ¡±Sir paladin.¡± Charlie returned the firm grip with a self-satisfied smile as he let James into the rental house. ¡°James. And¡­ Arrush, right?¡± He offered a handshake as Arrush followed James inside, utterly unconcerned with the ratroach¡¯s nature. Charlie turned and led them both into the home¡¯s living room, where the rest of his team were watching something on the rental home¡¯s Netflix account. ¡°Time to be professional, you two.¡± He said, getting a pair of unhappy looks from the human and camraconda on the couch. ¡±Oh, don¡¯t be professional on my behalf.¡± James said, gently slinging his bag to the floor. ¡°Hey Alice.¡± ¡±Yo.¡± The woman nodded at him. ¡°Welcome to Ute.¡± The camraconda next to her let out a dramatic digital sigh mirrored with a loud exhaled hiss. ¡°It¡¯s Utah!¡± She reminded the smirking human woman in a way that made James feel like he¡¯d just walked in on someone¡¯s in-joke. Charlie didn¡¯t so much as sigh at their antics. ¡°Welcome in.¡± He said to James and Arrush. ¡°James, you¡¯ve met Alice. Alice, this is Arrush.¡± He said the ratroach¡¯s name with the kind of precise pronunciation that made it sound a lot sharper than it was supposed to. ¡°And this is¡­ Dance.¡± He pointed at the camraconda. ¡°H-hi!¡± The camraconda shrunk back down behind the textured white back of the couch she was on. ¡°I¡¯m Dancing-Gleam-Of-A-Thousand-Knives. B-but you can call me Dance, cause everyone else does.¡± She twisted her head upside down to glare at Charlie. James titled his head, trying to ignore that he¡¯d never heard a camraconda stammer with their digital voice before. ¡°I mean, that¡¯s kind of a mouthful, but I¡¯ll still call you that if you want?¡± ¡±Don¡¯t humor her, she¡¯s trying to make people feel silly saying her name.¡± Charlie told James as he leaned on the counter that separated the room from the kitchen. James was trying really hard to not be jealous of the massive amount of counter space available here, compared to his own kitchen at home. So instead he shrugged. ¡°I mean, Zhu keeps using a last name as his first name cause he picked it without actually knowing Chinese. Plus, I¡¯m not gonna pretend I wasn¡¯t the kind of teenager who had a geocities page with a black background and red font. So I feel like I can say Dancing-Gleam-Of¡­ no, Gleaming-Dance¡­ fuck I¡¯m really sorry, say it again, I forgot the order.¡± ¡±¡­Dance is fine¡­¡± The camraconda raised herself up farther, and James realized she was wearing a pink and black sweater, but not one that was repurposed from human clothing. Someone had made that for her, which was cute. ¡°You¡¯re different than I expected.¡± She told him. ¡±People say that a lot.¡± Arrush said with a knowing nod. He¡¯d noticed that people always seemed caught off guard by James, especially when James acted exactly like himself and approached situations with a refined honesty. ¡°Hello.¡± He waved two of his left arms at Dance and Alice. The camraconda looked at him for a moment before turning back to the human woman. ¡°Mom!¡± She hissed. ¡°How come I can¡¯t have any arms, but he gets five?¡± ¡±I¡¯m not playing this game with you.¡± Alice declared. James hadn¡¯t been exactly sure what his introduction to the ongoing investigation down here would be, but this wasn¡¯t exactly it. This felt familiar though. Sort of like he was seeing a reflection of his own close group. These were people who worked together closely, who clearly cared for and trusted each other, even if they were currently in the process of either bantering or arguing. Charlie shook his head at the two on the couch, before turning back to James and Arrush. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got a few open bedrooms in this place, we should get you settled before I give you the long rundown of the last month.¡± He paused, looking at the two of them with what seemed like uninterested consideration. ¡°Two bedrooms?¡± James glanced at Arrush, who shuffled back with slight embarrassment, before he turned back to Charlie. ¡°One¡¯s fine!¡± He said cheerfully. ¡°Just so ya¡¯ll know, Arrush and I are sort of dating right now.¡± ¡±Oh!¡± Dance yelled from the couch where she was fighting Alice for control of the remote. ¡°See! I told you I should be allowed to date!¡± ¡±You are allowed to date, you¡¯re just not allowed to- Dance get back here!¡± Alice¡¯s yell got a tiny sigh from Charlie, who stoically refused to turn around. Instead, he just shook his head and led James and Arrush upstairs and down a wide hall to a round atrium space with four different doors. ¡°This one should work for you.¡± He said. ¡°Alice is there, I¡¯m downstairs, Myles isn¡¯t here now but he and Lin have the basement suite. Dance pretends she doesn¡¯t sleep but that¡¯s hers. Bathroom here, the water pressure is excellent, and this is the closet with extra blankets.¡± He pointed at different doors in turn. ¡°Oh, that little alcove over there? Don¡¯t try to get up there.¡± He gave one more point to a spot that had a few fake plants, but was built into the wall with a high window and had absolute no connecting path. It was just¡­ up there. Overhead, if you were walking through the downstairs foyer, but barely visible. The kind of weird thing that houses like this had sometimes. ¡±¡­why not?¡± Arrush asked, curious now that he¡¯d been told he shouldn¡¯t do it. ¡±I don¡¯t want to hear Dance complain about how someone else is allowed up there when she¡¯s not.¡± Charlie answered. ¡°Anyway. Take a moment, I¡¯ll get Alice and we¡¯ll prepare a rundown for you.¡± ¡±Excellent.¡± James smiled as their host vanished. The bedroom was, much like the front yard and the house itself, very nice. A freshly made queen bed with ornate pillows, the smell of some kind of air freshener and a little dust, shelves with¡­ stuff on them. Knickknacks, really. The sort of stuff James loved having on his own shelves; but unlike the little trinkets that all held fond memories for him, these were just¡­ things. Just stuff. Though the small portrait of a horse and the metal sculpture of a flower were nice; it just wasn¡¯t personal. Arrush poked one of the pillows on the bed. ¡°I¡­ I worry.¡± He said quietly, one of his paws covering the corner of his mouth just to be safe, to make sure he didn¡¯t drip on it. ¡±Oh, don¡¯t worry!¡± James said as he set his bag down on the carved wood chest under the window that faced the front yard. He¡¯d actually unpack later, especially for the things like the leveling equipment. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna be using those.¡± ¡±Because of me.¡± Arrush sounded a little sad as he handed James his own backpack to set next to the first one, even if he did understand. But James had other ideas. ¡°Hah! No.¡± Unburdened, he took a moment to slide up behind Arrush, and wrap his new boyfriend in a warm hug. Carefully, though; Arrush wasn¡¯t the same as Anesh or Alanna, and not just because of his species. He was a little more fragile, like this. A little thinner in places. So James¡¯ hugs had to be more measured, and less playfully crushing. A change he was still getting used to, though that was the point really; that they get used to each other. ¡°You¡¯re absolutely fine, and if you want to melt one of their stupid pillows, go for it. I¡¯m saying we¡¯re going to use pillows that don¡¯t feel like garbage.¡± ¡±You haven¡¯t¡­ haven¡¯t touched these pillows.¡± Arrush chittered lightly as he leaned back into James, his heart hammering from the proximity and the feeling of being held. He was only barely used to this from Keeka, and now he had another source of this feeling, and it was, he readily admitted, amazing. ¡°They could be¡­¡± ¡±They are not.¡± James said definitively. ¡°I¡¯ve been in a fair few places before, and let me tell you; there is no way that a pillow that looks like that, is comfortable to lay on.¡± He pointed at one of the objects sitting at the head of the bed. It had dark gold cord around its edge, an almost stereotypical plump shape, and tassels. And James knew for a fucking fact that it was going to be awful. But just to be sure, he let go of Arrush and made a joke out of approaching it with caution before snatching it up. ¡°Oh, yeah, no. This thing feels like sandpaper that has a grudge. No, we¡¯ll use the other pillows that they¡¯ve hidden out of aesthetic shame. Or I¡¯ll teleport somewhere and buy real bedding.¡± He was spoiled, a little, to even have that option. But he didn¡¯t care; he wasn¡¯t gonna make Arrush suffer through anything with tassels on it. While James went around the room, poking at every window, shelf, and the one tiny door that led to some kind of crawl space, Arrush actually did unpack. Laying out his loose clothing in neat piles, before taking up a drawer of the dresser by carefully laying out the array of knives he¡¯d brought. By the time he was done, James had already stripped the bed of everything that offended his comfort standards, and was feeling like he needed something to do. ¡±Can we hug again?¡± Arrush asked in a soft rasp as James lay staring at the ceiling with his feet on the floor at the foot of the bed, waiting to see if he¡¯d actually feel more rested. The words brought a smile to his face as he flung himself upright, and wrapped Arrush up, getting a surprised squeak from the ratroach. ¡°Of course.¡± James told him. ¡°But only for a bit, cause I¡¯m not exactly feeling tired from just teleporting down here, so I¡¯m ready to go see what the situation is and what we can do to nudge it along. How about you?¡± Arrush just replied with a series of wet clicks, his ability to form words fading as he lay the end of his muzzle on top of James¡¯ head and just enjoyed being held. Humans hugged differently. He wondered if, somewhere miles away, his partner and love was experiencing a similar hug from a similar human. It was a nice thought. All too soon, James got restless though. Arrush could have stood there with their arms around each other for hours, but this human had a deep need to be constantly moving, and making himself useful. So Arrush let James go, and followed him downstairs, to where information about their objective was waiting. Maybe if they solved the problem fast enough, he could get more time for hugs. Maybe this would all be nothing, and this could be¡­ a vacation. That sounded pretty nice. _____ James and Arrush returned to the others to find that Myles was back, and that he and Charlie were comparing a map on Myles¡¯ phone to an actual paper survey map spread out on the kitchen table. They¡¯d stacked up the silver plated candlesticks, the bowl of fake fruit, and a few other doodads that had been on the table into a haphazard cluster balanced precariously on the windowsill behind them, while they focused in on marking sites. ¡±There¡¯s a house here.¡± Myles was arguing. Carlie just kept a dull frown on his lips. ¡°Not on the map.¡± ¡±It¡¯s an older map.¡± ¡±Is it a new house?¡± ¡±Probably?! I don¡¯t know, man, but there¡¯s a house here. Mark it.¡± James looked around for the others, but didn¡¯t see them. Presumably they¡¯d escaped from whatever was happening here. ¡°Hey.¡± He said, getting a raised hand from Charlie without the man looking up. ¡°Are houses going missing? Is this another thing where I¡¯m gonna get ambushed by real estate agents?¡± There was a small pause as Myles cracked his mouth open to ask one of five different questions, before the rogue processed what James had just said, put together what he meant, and came back with a real answer instead. ¡°No, if anything, houses are appearing. Through a mystical and previously unknown process known as ¡®construction¡¯.¡± ¡±We don¡¯t have enough information to meaningfully prove that.¡± Charlie said, sounding to James like he was reciting a mantra. ¡°There isn¡¯t a public record of this house being built.¡± He poked the physical map again. James took a breath, and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m gonna call in an expert on this.¡± He said. ¡±House spawning?¡± Myles asked. ¡±Maps.¡± James closed his eyes and held out his right arm to the side, focusing on the feeling of being somewhere new, and of checking out a map that might lead them somewhere interesting. Before he opened his eyes again a few seconds later, the sensation of spectral feathers running down his forearm and the sound of a distant engine told him that Zhu had arrived. ¡°Heya.¡± James addressed the navigator. ¡°Sorry to wake you up.¡± ¡±It¡¯s fine. Ooh, this place is fancy. We should steal all the silverware on the way out.¡± Zhu¡¯s singular round eye on James¡¯ shoulder flicked around the room, taking in the decor. ¡±Okay, he¡¯s feeling punchy, that¡¯s a good sign.¡± James laughed. ¡°So hey, take a look at this.¡± ¡±Yeah. Bad map. It¡¯s missing a bunch of destinations.¡± Zhu said rapidly as James stepped up next to the table, making a gesture to invite Arrush just in case he didn¡¯t feel like he was included in this. ¡°How old is this? You guys need to update your maps.¡± Zhu failed to notice Charlie¡¯s grimace or Myles¡¯ look of vindication. ¡°What am I looking for anyway?¡± James pointed at the ¡®new¡¯ house. ¡°What¡¯s here?¡± ¡±A house. Probably. Almost no barrier to getting there, with this in front of us.¡± Zhu gave a feathery shrug, his own taloned arm pulling James¡¯ shoulder upward with it. ¡°So probably normal?¡± ¡±Okay. So there¡¯s one normal house there. Good.¡± James nodded and looked at the two men who had now had their argument and or debate settled. ¡°So. Do you two want to fill me in on what¡¯s been going on down here?¡± Charlie nodded stiffly. ¡°In the last week, we¡¯ve seen a spike in¡­¡± ¡±Weirdness.¡± Myles jumped in where Charlie trailed off. The older human shook his head in a tight motion. ¡±No, that would imply-¡° ¡±Charlie. Weirdness.¡± Myles balled his hands into fists on the edge of the table. ¡±¡­in the last week, we¡¯ve seen a spike in weirdness.¡± Charlie conceded begrudgingly. ¡°For a while, the rogues were keeping an eye on the extended families of the kids we returned home down here, especially after¡­ after we dropped the ball, and they went missing. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, a couple in-laws. This place may be suburban, but there¡¯s some extensive family lines here.¡± He pointed at several addresses on the big unfolded map circled in red. ¡°Missing. It started slow, which might be how the first few households vanished without notice. Their stuff is still there, mostly, but it doesn¡¯t look like kidnapping or murder. They packed up and left, possibly on purpose.¡± Myles picked up as Charlie took a drink of iced tea, before offering drinks to James and Arrush from a frosted glass pitcher sitting on the polished marble counter. ¡°So far, there¡¯s a confirmed twenty nine people who have disappeared. Once we caught on, we put stakeouts on as many of the others as we could.¡± He pointed to a few houses on the map, almost neighbors. ¡°Gone. And the rogues - who all have authorities, assignments, or navigators - reported missing time. In one case, almost a whole day. From their perspective, they blinked and it was the middle of the night.¡± ¡±That¡¯s fucking terrifying.¡± James murmured. ¡°So, are any of them left?¡± ¡±No.¡± Charlie¡¯s word was like a bullet to the mood. ¡°We searched the homes. Cars are gone, along with some personal effects. We did find a few more spell coins, and bits of what might be delver gear, but nothing we could grok as magical. It¡¯s just all leftovers. No sign of forced entry, nothing suspicious.¡± ¡±Except that whole ¡®no one there anymore¡¯ thing.¡± Myles chimed in. Arrush shifted awkwardly, bobbing on his legs as he lowered down to try to make sense of the map. ¡°But¡­ they are humans.¡± He said. ¡°They can leave, right?¡± ¡±Sure. Oh, I get what you¡¯re saying, yeah.¡± Myles folded his arms and leaned against the window, making James wonder how long until that fruit bowl was condemned to get knocked over and fall to its death. ¡°But all of them? And only these people? And everyone watching has no memory of the time it happened? Their pets are gone, too. This isn¡¯t something-¡° ¡±I would take a pet with me.¡± Arrush interjected, before flushing neon green and looking away. ¡°S-sorry¡­¡± James hummed into his fingers, hand curled around his mouth in thought. ¡°No, that¡¯s actually a really good point. Pets being gone too means something.¡± ¡±Correct. Either whatever happened was very thorough, or the leaving was intentional in some way and the pets were accounted for.¡± Charlie handed an iced tea to Arrush, sipping his own as he kept frowning at the map. ¡°Could go either way.¡± ¡±Hard disagree.¡± Myles sounded, James suddenly realized, like he was having this conversation after a week of stress and frustration. ¡°Mysterious forces don¡¯t pack dog toys.¡± ¡±Ooh, no, I see it. Hang on.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers rotated around James¡¯ neck, tail flicking behind them with eager energy. ¡°How many families?¡± ¡±Twelve. Nine with a pet of some kind.¡± Zhu mimed snapping his talons, even though it didn¡¯t quite work like a human¡¯s snap. ¡°Okay, someone should have hated their dog.¡± He said. ¡°I know there¡¯s the memes and things, but there are humans who just don¡¯t like dogs. Or people who got pets they didn¡¯t want. Or other corner cases, right? So if it¡¯s all of them, that makes it weird.¡± ¡±Weird is the flavor of the day.¡± Myles sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t like it. At the very least, it makes it not¡­ not natural? It¡¯s someone doing something.¡± ¡±I have a question.¡± James asked, eyes gazing out the window at the mountain in the distance, peeking over the next row of houses in the neighborhood. ¡°And I don¡¯t want you to take this as me saying that the rogues aren¡¯t thorough. But. Are we sure that these are the only people disappearing?¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡±Yikes.¡± Zhu muttered. Myles sighed. ¡°That would be a yikes. I can tell you that with the exception of where the targets were living nearby, at the very least, the surrounding houses weren¡¯t poofed.¡± ¡±Raptured.¡± Charlie offered. ¡±I told you we can¡¯t call it that.¡± Myles snorted as he narrowed his eyes. ¡°Especially not around this place, where every one of these people do go to a church that believes in the actual for real rapture.¡± Charlie¡¯s mouth quirked into a tiny lopsided smile. ¡°Mormons don¡¯t call it that anyway. Maybe that¡¯s literally what happened. Maybe we¡¯re all left behind, for being terrible people.¡± ¡±That would be fitting.¡± James said plainly. ¡°Let¡¯s put literal divine intervention in the ¡®probably not¡¯ pile for now.¡± He looked at the paper map spread out, miles and miles of suburbia, homes broken up by strip malls and churches, eleven red circles marking empty homes. ¡°I need to see these places, I¡¯m bad with maps. Do we have pictures? I¡¯ll go check them out in person later, get a feel for the area.¡± ¡°Ooh, we can establish route loops!¡± Zhu sounded too excited about the navigator tool of creating known and repeatedly traveled paths that could be apparently used as building blocks of other routes to ease the strain of it. James gave a sad smile, turning away from Zhu¡¯s eye so he couldn¡¯t quite see. ¡°Yeah, okay. Don¡¯t overexert yourself, right?¡± ¡±Obviously. Stop worrying or your next walk to the store sends you into a lake.¡± Zhu¡¯s dry bite of a comment got a chitter of unexpected laughter from Arrush. The navigator was quick to move on. ¡°Maybe from one of the points, I can track where they went, too.¡± ¡±I should tell you, other navigators have tried.¡± Myles said with a disappointed huff. Zhu preened. ¡±They weren¡¯t me.¡± He said confidently, long feathered tail wrapping around James¡¯ leg. ¡°Is there anything else going on?¡± He asked. ¡°Or just the missing persons, as far as we know?¡± ¡°It¡¯s hard to find out. People around here are addicted to gossip, but getting it out of them directly is a nightmare. And everything is really spread out, so any kind of geographically located effects are going to be up to chance to spot; we just don¡¯t have enough eyes. And there¡¯s almost no fucking traffic cameras to tap.¡± Myles took a deep breath, trying to quiet the building anger he had going on. ¡°Ideally we¡¯d want to get close to a few community figures, pastors or elders for the churches, owners of local businesses, that kind of thing. But the community is¡­ it¡¯s not closed exactly, but everyone kind of has their own established social circle. There just aren¡¯t that many people who are isolated enough to be potential informants. The best we¡¯ve managed is setting a couple rogues up on blind dates, but then people talk.¡± Myles rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. ¡°You know, the advantage of working in a place like this is supposed to be that it¡¯s spread out and you have a ton of people who don¡¯t communicate. But no. Everyone in the area is close. This is not a suburb problem, this is a this region problem.¡± ¡±Isn¡¯t that good?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°Not¡­ not for you. That¡¯s bad for you. But isn¡¯t it good, because it means they have friends? This is how this one¡± he poked a claw into James¡¯ side, ¡°talks about making community. And¡­ and it¡¯s nice, in the Order, when people are close.¡± ¡±Oh, they¡¯re not friends.¡± Charlie said bluntly. ¡°It¡¯s really very uncomfortable. I¡¯m not good at the emotional elements of socialization, but I can tell a lot of these people resent or hate each other. They¡¯re just in each other¡¯s business, due to a complex web of power imbalances.¡± Arrush emulated something he¡¯d seen James do, and started lightly gnawing on one of his own claws. He found it was a good expression of utter confusion. ¡±¡­why?¡± He asked. ¡±I don¡¯t know, exactly. I think it¡¯s momentum.¡± Charlie said. ¡°There¡¯s an easy answer, but it¡¯s a reflection of now, and not a reason for how it got to be this way. And I don¡¯t like easy answers.¡± ¡°What about younger people?¡± James asked. ¡°Not to sound like a tobacco exec, but have we considered targeting teenagers?¡± Myles coughed out a laugh, before giving James a negative. ¡°The whole place skews young. But when I said people kind of have assigned social circles, I especially meant teenagers. I¡¯d bet you money there¡¯s a bunch of them that want some kind of escape, but we don¡¯t really have a way to identify or contact them.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± James placed his hands on the end of the table. ¡°So, somewhere out there, twenty nine people have gone missing, something is blanking our knight¡¯s memories, no one is talking about it, there might be more stuff going on, and all of this is happening in the orbit of what we assume to be a family of dungeon delvers. Correct?¡± ¡±That¡¯s a good summation, yes.¡± Charlie was mildly impressed at how concise that was on short notice. He was a man who appreciated a good concise summary. ¡±Alright.¡± James rubbed the back of his hand through Zhu¡¯s spectral feathers. ¡°I want to get into local police records, see if anyone has reported them missing. They should be public if there were kids in the victims. Maybe actually talk to some of the officers for this area. Politely, don¡¯t look at me like that, I¡¯m not gonna open with¡­ whatever you¡¯re thinking.¡± He barked a counter to an unspoken argument from Myles. ¡°Myles, you want more surveillance set up? Get someone on that. These houses look fairly clustered up. Like, within a few miles, right? Covering major roads in and out with disguised wildlife cameras should work.¡± ¡±I sent Yin out to get what we need already.¡± Myles said, showing off the quiet competence Nate was trying to cultivate in their rogues. James cracked a smirk. ¡±Good. Last thing¡­ have we checked any of the potential dungeon sites?¡± Charlie reached up to the top of the table and unfolded a copy of the exact same map, with entirely different markings on it. And a lot more markings. ¡°Alice and Dance have been on it since we got here. We can¡¯t verify everything, but our group does a lot of studying of dungeon entrance environments. Statistically, it¡¯s probably not in a house, so we¡¯re focusing on high-metaphor locations. Movie theaters, churches, schools, larger businesses and stores. Yellow tags are places we¡¯ve done a sweep of for emotional or mental tampering, list of times is here. Greens we¡¯ve done extensive checks for emergent dungeon life or influence, including comparing external structures to historical records and going over months of video surveillance from inside, and turned up nothing. High confidence those aren¡¯t it.¡± His matter of fact tone and clear knowledge on the subject came across as professional and detailed. ¡°Red is places we can¡¯t easily check. Emergency responders like police or fire stations, mostly. We¡¯re checking everything in the immediate area first, before expanding the radius, because it¡¯s likely that it¡¯s near either here, or the high school those kids were going to, in order for them to have easy access to it.¡± ¡±I would have just said ¡®yes¡¯.¡± Myles offered. ¡±What about libraries?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°Or parks?¡± Charlie gave the ratroach a quick look. ¡°Libraries are easy, they¡¯re mostly green. But anywhere with a lot of out of the way doors is harder to check. Parks we can¡¯t do much about at all. Worst case, the entrance is like the Climb, where it¡¯s artificially created. Best case, there¡¯s a naturally occurring ¡®threshold¡¯ that we could at least start from.¡± Zhu split his arm off from James¡¯ own, and put the tip of his glowing talon to a blank space in the middle of the northern part of the map. ¡±And this?¡± He asked. ¡±There¡¯s nothing there.¡± Myles said. ¡°It¡¯s new construction, the roads are all laid down but the place is undeveloped. Just contractors and foundations.¡± He went quiet for a second, before adding, ¡°If you want to steal a nail gun it¡¯s a good spot for it?¡± ¡±Okay.¡± James repeated himself. ¡°I think I want to get a look at stuff. Zhu, remember that spot, we should look at it too. How far is the nearest house someone went missing from?¡± James felt the thrum of his recently acquired Energy; he was ready for a walk, and the weather seemed to be getting less hostile, which would make this nice. Charlie just turned and pointed at the kitchen. James was about to say something, but then he stopped himself, and followed the arc of the knight¡¯s finger. Not the kitchen, the window over the sink. Out over a gap before a fence separated the property lines between their rental home and the next door neighbor. ¡°No, wait¡­¡± He said, looking back at the table and scooting past Myles to pull the dungeon search map up so he could look at the missing persons map.. ¡±Oh yes.¡± Zhu said with an engine hum giggle. ¡°We are here.¡± He pointed again, and his talon landed on one of the unmarked houses. Sitting directly between two of the places that had been stripped of their human occupants. ¡°Oh that is bad, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± Myles said with a bitter heat. ¡°This happened under our fucking noses.¡± James didn¡¯t know what to say. He probably should have said nothing, but heard himself uttering a quiet ¡±Oof.¡± instead. ¡±Should I¡­ wait here?¡± Arrush asked. ¡±If you want.¡± James said. ¡°Apparently this walk won¡¯t be as long as I thought.¡± ¡±I will wait here.¡± Arrush nodded, not quite comfortable strolling through the neighborhood just yet. ¡°If you¡­ if you are ambushed, I will be a surprise.¡± James might have started to have weird standards in his life, because that came across as one of the sweetest and most romantic things anyone had ever said to him. _____ The view from the street was a bizarre mix of mundane and naturally beautiful. In the distance, it was easy to see the peaks of mountains covered in a thousand lines of vegetation and exposed stone. Clouds painted a dozen pareidolia pictures in the late afternoon sky, and despite the sporadic sounds of car engines all around, the air was clean. Dry, a little more alkaline than James was used to, but clean; and a lot easier to take in now that the abrupt windstorm had died down. ¡±This place is weird.¡± He muttered to Zhu. ¡±What, because of the people disappearing?¡± Zhu asked, eye tracing the path of a chonky bright yellow hummer driving down the street until the driver turned without bothering to take a second glance at the stop sign a few blocks away. ¡°Or because of the other weird magic stuff?¡± ¡±I was gonna say just because of how it looks.¡± James waved his Zhu-covered hand at the distant scenery. Zhu rotated his eye, unbothered by the dry conditions at all in his manifested form. ¡°Oh! I was looking at the streets, sorry.¡± He stared off at the distant mountains. ¡°We could go there, you know. It¡¯s farther than you think, but there¡¯s some good hiking paths over there. A lot of satisfying journeys.¡± The words brought James to a stop, his feet resting at the end of the house¡¯s fancy stonework path where it met the sidewalk. ¡±Sometimes I wonder how you see the world.¡± He said in a gentle voice. ¡°I know we¡¯re different. I know I¡­ I know I screw up sometimes and try to pave everything down to what I¡¯m used to. But I¡¯d love to see the mountains the way you see the mountains sometime.¡± After a pause, Zhu found his voice again. ¡°I could maybe show you.¡± He said. ¡°Not now. But when you¡¯re dreaming, when I can touch more directly, I maybe could.¡± ¡±I¡¯d like that.¡± James breathed deep of the unfamiliar atmosphere. ¡°Alright. Want to go solve some murders?¡± ¡±They can¡¯t all be dead already. Right?¡± Zhu¡¯s talons clutched around James¡¯ wrist as his ethereal limb layered on top of his friend¡¯s. ¡°Right?¡± ¡±I guess we¡¯ll find out.¡± James said, realizing as he did so that his attempt to deflect from his anxiety with humor was pretty bad when he couldn¡¯t even get through that small sentence without finding himself speaking in a dull grey tone as he remembered all the people he had personally failed. All the people who were all dead already. The house next door wasn¡¯t a copy of the one James and the others were staying in. That would be too pedestrian; the high class suburbs didn¡¯t just replicate the same building over and over, they iterated and tweaked and played with styles. And honestly, James could appreciate that; he¡¯d get bored making the same place over and over. The only reason he was okay with making replicas of the same apartment a hundred and twenty times in the Lair¡¯s basement was because they only had to build it once. It was also empty. The garage was sitting open, but there were no cars in there or on the driveway. Checking his saved skulljack notes, he knew the rogues had searched the place and left it as it was, and that he could probably just walk in and poke around if he wanted. But it felt uncomfortable to just stroll into someone¡¯s house, even if they were gone. So he kept walking. Getting a feel for the geography of the sidewalks under his feet, feeling Zhu tagging landmarks in the part of his brain that the navigator had set up a penthouse suite in, and checking out every one of the buildings that had been hit. They were just normal homes. They weren¡¯t out of the ordinary at all. There wasn¡¯t a strange feeling around them, there wasn¡¯t the smell of hot salt that James associated with magic in action, there wasn¡¯t battle damage or spilled blood. All there was was the occasional dog walker that James gave polite passing greetings to, or passing cars ferrying people home from work, or groups of kids out playing basketball or something in the driveways of various homes. It was nice. Felt a little spread out, and a little unwelcoming to James specifically. But it wasn¡¯t evil. Just nice. Only nice. Nothing more than nice, at any point. It took the two of them over an hour or so to walk the streets in the winding path that took James past all the buildings that used to contain people. Some of them were clearly vacated, but others still had cars in the driveway and lights on, lit porch lights standing out during the daylight. He tried to take in as many details as he could, matching locations to the names and profiles of the missing, referencing his map so he knew where each different spot was, acquainting himself deeply with the information at hand. And also watching the rest of the neighborhood. Or neighborhoods, really; it wasn¡¯t clear where the dividing lines were all the time, but James had to cross a couple of larger roads, and saw a couple different large brick edifices with metal signs on them declaring the names of the developments. The whole area was pretty flat, despite being surrounded by mountains. James was kinda used to growing up in Oregon, where even the suburbs were built all up and down hilly terrain. And he¡¯d sort of internalized that as ¡®normal¡¯. But here, the flat scrubland had been easily paved and founded on. The perfect environment for this kind of construction. It didn¡¯t even completely destroy the natural world, it was just that local flora were kept inconspicuous, and attention was diverted from them by the much more diverse gardens full of foreign plants. Though he did give the residents credit, there weren¡¯t that many lawns; at least people here took drought seriously. That was just the feeling of walking around though. The more specific details, James filed away for the future. Intersections, spots where streetside parking was heavier, how to get back to the connecting roads. And while he was alert and paying attention to things, he noticed something else, too. ¡±That door is open.¡± He looked across the street at a house that was sitting with its cherry red door hanging open to the front room. ¡°Is that¡­ no, that¡¯s not one of the marked places.¡± James looked up and down the street. There was an older couple doing some gardening, and a truck pulling into a driveway, but no one was out walking around. Nor watching him. He shot a text off to Charlie about what he was doing. ¡°Wanna go knock?¡± He asked Zhu. The navigator brought his tail down on the back of James¡¯ leg, the angle of his manifestation preventing it from being more than a small pat. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re asking.¡± He said, stretching out his feathers and keeping alert as James smiled and jogged them across the street. Just in case it was just someone who was airing out their house, James knocked on the door a few times. ¡°Hello?¡± He called into the interior of the residence. It was a wide two floor home, might have a basement too; the kind of place that would run an easy $500k around where he lived. ¡°Excuse me! Anyone home?¡± No answer. And Zhu said what they were both thinking in a whisper. ¡°This went from boring to spooky pretty damn fast, huh?¡± ¡±No kidding.¡± James said, ringing the doorbell for good measure, the sharp chime sounding like deafening toll inside the house. Noise bouncing off smooth wooden floors and family pictures on the walls. ¡°Hello?¡± He tried again. ¡°Ugggggh. Zhu I wanna go inside.¡± ¡±Send Charlie the address first.¡± Zhu told him. ¡±Done.¡± James stepped over the threshold, and stopped talking. If there were people here, they were either deaf, or in the bathroom, and yelling more wasn¡¯t going to speed up meeting them either way. A mix of knight training days guided his actions as he and Zhu swept the house. Upstairs first, the stairs sturdy and silent under his shoes. Two bedrooms, a small bathroom with fish painted on the walls, what was obviously a kid¡¯s game room, master bedroom with attached bath and a closet, James took it all in with sharp eyes and his hearing up as far as he could put it. Nothing was moving in the house except him and Zhu though. Then downstairs. Empty kitchen, refrigerator ajar and leaking cold air, some dishes in the sink and empty plastic cups on the table. TV still on. There was a basement, and a chill hit his spine as he walked down the enclosed stairs. But while there was a den or office, a pantry, and another TV with some game consoles and couches down here, there were no people. The pantry was still stocked with a month¡¯s worth of canned goods, too. Room by room, make sure no one can slip behind you if they¡¯re hiding and dodging your search. Preliminary sweep ignored objects and focused entirely on people or threats, so James didn¡¯t get distracted by the display of hunting rifles on the wall that was clearly missing a couple entries. The point was to just make sure that the structure was unoccupied. ¡±Empty.¡± James declared. ¡°Baring someone hiding in the crawl spaces.¡± He and Zhu met each other¡¯s gaze, sighed in united annoyance, and checked all the crawl spaces. ¡°Okay. Empty.¡° James declared correctly. Zhu tightened his feathery manifestation around James. ¡°That¡¯s bad, though.¡± He said, quiet and fearful. ¡°That¡¯s really bad.¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± James breathed out. ¡°That is¡­ not good. Okay. I hate to ask this, but I need to appear mundane for a second. Can you-¡° Zhu writhed his feathers up under James¡¯ shirt, tail tucking down the back of one of James¡¯ legs. ¡°Thanks. Sorry.¡± ¡±Meh. I don¡¯t care that much. Go. Do investigation.¡± Zhu directed him. So James got on it, heading outside and to the home next door, knocking firmly but not aggressively. A late twenties woman opened the door, giving James a cautious greeting as she did so. ¡°Hi.¡± James said with a friendly little wave and a mild smile. ¡°Sorry to bother you, I promise I¡¯m not selling anything.¡± He gave a casual laugh, and saw her soften up a bit. ¡°I was just walking past, and I saw your neighbor''s door is hanging open. Knocked there, but no one seems home. Just wanted to make sure that they were okay, so I figured I¡¯d see if you knew them.¡± ¡±Oh, is it?¡± The woman stepped out onto the brick courtyard of the home to look over at the place next door. ¡°That¡¯s strange! I haven¡¯t really talked to them, but I know the husband drives a big red pickup, and it¡¯s not there. I think he¡¯s been on a trip though, haven¡¯t seen that stupid truck in a week. He always parks on the curb and blocks my mailbox.¡± James looked up and down the street. ¡°Odd!¡± He said. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re out for the day and the wind blew it open.¡± ¡±Oh, probably.¡± The woman gave him an unenthusiastic smile and a shrug. ¡°Nice of you to check though!¡± ¡±Of course, of course.¡± James laughed. ¡°Gotta watch out for each other, right? I¡¯ll go shut that for them, keep the bugs out.¡± He waved as he walked away, and the instant his foot hit the edge of the property, his smile vanished, replaced by a stormy snarl. ¡°God dammit.¡± He whispered. Zhu pushed himself back out of James¡¯ shirt. ¡°It could be worse.¡± He said. ¡°At least there¡¯s still people here?¡± James nodded, staring up at the swaying leaves of one of the sidewalk trees. ¡°Honestly, good point. It could be worse. Okay. I want to try something, let¡¯s see if any of the other neighbors know the name of the people who lived here.¡± As it turned out, the young married couple on the other side did. They had a lot to say about the truck blocking their mailbox too, which¡­ James didn¡¯t actually think was possible? Sure, a bad pickup truck driver could ruin a lot of things, that was a universal constant. But they shouldn¡¯t have been able to spatially displace their vehicle to block off two separate points thirty feet apart. He wasn¡¯t prepared to chalk this up to hostile magic yet though; this sounded like something where it had happened exactly twice to each side, and they remembered it so sharply it was like it happened to them every day. It didn¡¯t matter. He got a name. And from there, he had a hook for his magic. The people who worked in the Order¡¯s rogue division were still members of the Order. They weren¡¯t some shadowy background detail; they went on delves, they were good knights, and they were all very clever. At least half of them had Winter¡¯s Climb spells, and every one of them that could take it had picked up Call To Blood. It had also been used extensively on the missing people here already, but all the trails were mundane, and focused around the houses, and none of them had anything added on that went anywhere weird. He didn¡¯t have high hopes for using it here, either. But maybe. It cost him almost nothing to confirm. So James exhaled Breath, and cast the spell, focusing on the wife¡¯s name. Miriam Edwards, the simplest piece of information that was needed to get the magic started. There were obviously other Miriam Edwards in the world, but because he had a clear idea of ¡®which one¡¯ he ¡®meant¡¯, it worked. On his shoulder, Zhu made a satisfied hum as James felt his Breath starting to deplete slowly, the tiny chill from the very small cost not bothering him in the summer air. A physical tug in his chest pointed him toward the kitchen of the empty home. And once he was there, to the master bedroom. Master bathroom, kitchen, garage, master bedroom¡­ all around the master bedroom, actually. The spell¡¯s mental list of sites where the target was injured kept growing in bursts as he was close enough and within sight line of the last spot she was hurt. It took over fifty additions to the list before one of them pointed outside, trailing off into the distance. James let the magic go, down about fifteen Breath. He resisted, barely, the urge to scream. Because he¡¯d been trained on recognizing patterns in this spell, too, and this one pointed to something very specific. And it wasn¡¯t a delver. The Order had tested this on its own people extensively; delvers actually made the pull to the next spot feel like splinters in your throat if it was inside a dungeon that wasn¡¯t currently accessible. No, this was what someone who was being physically abused read as. Either that, or someone who was into knife play in the bedroom, and was just clumsy in the rest of the house. ¡±Check the drawers.¡± Zhu reminded him with the same grim anger that James was feeling. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re just kinky.¡± The two of them did, but turned up nothing. They then checked the whole house again to make sure it wasn¡¯t just that the wife was diabetic and needed constant insulin shots. But no dice there either. So James repeated the spell for the husband, and then the one kid he knew the name of. The neighbors hadn¡¯t known the younger daughter¡¯s name, and it wasn¡¯t on any of the mail that James had found on the home office¡¯s desk. The husband had one spot in the garage, three in the master bathroom, and then another somewhere else. Distance wasn¡¯t part of the spell, nor was time, so these could have happened over any amount of time. The son had a few that were in the backyard or the front sidewalk, and about thirty in one of the bedrooms. ¡±I am suddenly having less fun.¡± James said, his skin crawling. ¡°I mean, I wasn¡¯t having fun before. But I was¡­ I dunno, I was ready to solve a mystery and save some people. I don¡¯t think I want to save one of these people anymore.¡± ¡±Let¡¯s go back.¡± Zhu urged him. ¡°Myles and Yin will be here soon. They can take over.¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± James frowned, stepping out of the house and pulling the door mostly closed. He stared at the red paint with a dull fire in his chest. ¡°Don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re delvers.¡± He muttered to his friend. Zhu tapped his talon on the back of James¡¯ hand rapidly as he had a thought. ¡°The others, the ones that vanished. They were all related, right? The same genetic line?¡± ¡±Weird way to put it, but it was three different families. Why?¡± James shook his hand as he interrupted his own question. ¡°No, I just got it. We need to see if they have any relatives. And we need to do it before anyone notices they¡¯re missing and calls in a wellness check, or before those relatives vanish too. Okay. Let¡¯s get back, and let the rogues do their thing. I need to talk to Alice and Charlie.¡± ¡±And Arrush.¡± Zhu added. ¡±And¡­ I mean, I like talking to Arrush, but why am I talking to him too?¡± ¡±Because I can feel something in the path.¡± Zhu said. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ you wanted to know how I see the world?¡± James nodded, and the navigator continued. ¡°Through this eye, I see just like you. I see the mountains and the clouds and things. But in my seeking perception, I see things differently. Metaphor doesn¡¯t work, it¡¯s not like anything, I just know travel and destination and obstacle and event. It¡¯s a little bit like looking at a weather forecast, but don¡¯t ever tell another navigator I said that. The thing is¡­¡± Zhu¡¯s eye rotated upward, staring at the sky. ¡°Right now, the way I see the world? It¡¯s like there¡¯s storm clouds forming overhead. It¡¯s dark and thunderous and powerful. And I don¡¯t think it¡¯s meant for us, but I think the storm is going to be big enough that there¡¯s going to be a few roads washed out.¡± He wrapped his hand around James¡¯ own. ¡°So you¡¯re going to talk to Arrush, and you¡¯re going to tell him you need him with you.¡± ¡±Is this a prophecy thing?¡± James asked. ¡°Because that perception thing is cool as hell, but the Order has a standing ¡®no negotiating with fate¡¯ policy. So I can¡¯t listen to the prophecy.¡± Zhu didn¡¯t laugh. Just tightened his grip. ¡°No.¡± He told James. ¡°It¡¯s not me predicting anything. It¡¯s me being worried, and wanting to have the most dangerous person we know nearby when someone tries to kill us.¡± ¡±Really? Not Alanna?¡± ¡±You were sick for the Route Horizon delve. You don¡¯t really know.¡± Zhu said. ¡°Alanna is too nice to be really dangerous.¡± He tried to put a bit of levity into the words, but it didn¡¯t quite work. Neither of them were feeling good right about now. They passed by Myles¡¯ car as they walked back to the rental house, though James didn¡¯t wave or call attention to it, just traded confirmation texts via skulljack. When he did make it back, he was feeling physically limbered up, but emotionally drained. And when Charlie and Alice looked up at him as he approached their little research station on the kitchen table, he saw the same feeling mirrored in their eyes. ¡±This could be better.¡± Charlie said, looking at the freshly circled house James had found. The words were so utterly, completely and totally, impossibly inadequate, that James had no choice but to start laughing. It could be better. But he was here now, and he had no intention of letting this go. Not these people, not this time. There was something here, he could feel it. Cracks that he could leverage open to reveal a hidden truth. James just had to step out and start pulling things apart. But first, he needed dinner, and maybe actual sleep, and not just what he¡¯d borrowed from Sarah earlier. Chapter 283 ¡±There will always be another, just like me. There is always another tragedy.¡± -new year, theveryworstthing- _____ Alanna looked up from her phone to the people sitting around in the Attic dungeon with her. ¡°James says he¡¯s fine.¡± She announced to the group. ¡±Really?¡± Sarah asked, doubt coloring her words as she pointed at her girlfriend with one of her french fries. Her doubt wasn¡¯t at Alanna, though, it was at James. ¡°Is he really, or is he doing his best James impression, and covering up his own self-doubt and anxiety?¡± ¡°No, she¡¯s right,¡± Anesh spoke up from where two of him along with Keeka were working on trying to properly pin a cloth ribbon back to the ¡®ceiling¡¯ of the increasingly structurally impressive pillow fort that made up a growing biome of Clutter Ascent. They had originally tried to make it look fancy, Anesh drawing on an old skill orb for calligraphy and Keeka seeking to use a new one for interior design in order to make something that looked subtly more artistic than a first glance would expect. But that was, it turned out, hard to do when you were teetering on a stepladder and desperately counting on your boyfriend¡¯s extra arms to get through the process. So they¡¯d given up and were just trying to affix it without any theatrics. ¡°I¡¯m in the same group chat,¡± Anesh continued as his arms started to ache held over his head, ¡°James was pretty up front about being furious at someone, but optimistic about their search.¡± It was actually a bit fun to Anesh. This was, in a way, the first time he was ¡®away¡¯ from his boyfriend for a period of time that didn¡¯t involve James being kidnapped or hit by a car or otherwise removed from cell phone access. And he¡¯d found that he really enjoyed the mild stream of updates on things both mundane and tactical as James complained about the investigation or sent pictures of the local scenery or the barbeque chicken that Charlie had made everyone for dinner. It was also how he knew James wasn¡¯t dead, which was a plus. And how he knew that today, his partner wouldn¡¯t be doing anything other than digging through birth records and other ways of tracing family lines from the safety of the rented house they were staying in. ¡±Mmmmmh¡­¡± Sarah grumbled, shifting in her beanbag and carefully wiping her hands on a napkin before setting her lunch plate aside. ¡°And he doesn¡¯t want help?¡± She was still suspicious. ¡°I would want help.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that why we sent James in the first place? Because he will need less help?¡± Keeka asked in his chittering voice. Alanna barked out a laugh, surprising a nearby group of young stuff animals that were playing with a supply of LEGO that the Order had brought in. As a few of the young dungeon creatures started laughing along with her for no other reason than it seemed fun, Alanna broke off with a wide grin and shook her head at Keeka. ¡°Nah, James is probably gonna need bailing out at some point. But he¡¯s got other help down there. Like your boyfriend!¡± Keeka untangled himself from the successfully repaired banner, and clambered down to the floor of the dungeon. Two of his arms reached around one of the tired Anesh, while the other two curled around to point at the captured human. ¡°This one?¡± He asked, careful to avoid the napping form of Ganesh sitting on the human¡¯s shoulder as Anesh let him maneuver his body slightly. ¡±¡­Guys, I¡¯m totally on board with this ever expanding polycule we¡¯ve got going on,¡± Alanna said flatly, ¡°but we have got to invent better terminology.¡± ¡±So not this one.¡± Keeka nodded his furred triangular head, content that he had deduced this properly. Sarah shook her head as she stood and stretched, the mostly-raccoon stuff animal that was nesting on her head staying asleep as she moved with an almost inhuman precision to avoid disturbing her passenger. ¡°I¡¯m just saying! Every time James leaves the state, bad things happen! We should be ready!¡± ¡±¡­That¡¯s¡­ hm.¡± Anesh trailed off, one of him frowning in concentration as the other him looked over at Alanna. ¡°That¡¯s a really terrifying thing she¡¯s said. Should we have stopped James from crossing any borders?¡± ¡±You¡¯re all dumbasses.¡± Alanna said, rolling her eyes and getting an indignant squeak in response. ¡°Yeah, even you Keeks! The whole point is that James is packed to the eyeballs with useful magic, and he¡¯s been spending most of his free time practicing how to be a superhero. Plus, he¡¯s got Zhu and Arrush for backup and comfort. He¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡±Arrush is comfortable.¡± Keeka said with a distant dreamy look in his crescent formation of eyes. ¡°Does this mean we aren¡¯t allowed to worry, though?¡± He asked Alanna. She snorted. ¡°Oh, nah, go ahead. I¡¯ve got a telepad prepped for when this goes to shit anyway.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t swear in front of the kids!¡± Sarah admonished her as the stuff animal on her head stirred slightly. ¡°But I am glad you¡¯re taking it seriously. I¡¯m glad James feels confident and all, but I don¡¯t want him to get hurt again. Last time was bad, and¡­ and¡­¡± She sniffed loudly, turning her head and then frantically catching the part-raccoon part-salamander critter that tumbled off as she forgot her posture. Anesh sighed as the two of him quietly flipped a coin to see which of them was going which direction. One of him waved and got a hug goodbye as he took off to go do Research work, taking Ganesh with him as the little drone had long since set aside his career as a tiny delver, while the other him stuck around. ¡°I¡¯m honestly just hoping he treats it like a vacation. He¡¯s been working too hard lately. And from what I hear, Arrush needs to relax a bit too.¡± ¡±He¡¯s terrified!¡± Keeka nodded energetically. ¡°His time for change is soon. So this is a good distraction! Well¡­¡± the ratroach fidgeted and leaned in toward Sarah and Alanna conspiratorially. ¡°¡­It is good if they are only having sex and not being attacked by monsters.¡± ¡±¡­Tha¡­¡± Alanna pressed her thumbs into the side of her nose, trying to process just how blunt that statement was. ¡°And everyone thinks I¡¯m the conversational hurricane.¡± She muttered. ¡°Anyway, James¡¯ texts didn¡¯t say one way or the other on that front. Also how are you the lewdest person in our group?¡± Alanna demanded of the ratroach. ¡±I am very powerful!¡± Keeka chittered out a giggle, his rounded antenna bobbing as he titled his head away and covered his muzzle with a set of his hands. ¡°Everything feels easier when nothing hurts, and I thought that it would wear off, but it hasn¡¯t yet, so nothing can stop me saying things!¡± Sarah shook her head at the antics, depositing the stuff animal in her arms to the floor and letting her run off to join the others that had gone back to joyfully playing with blocks. ¡°Well, it does make sense, but I¡¯m still gonna worry about my friend.¡± She declared. ¡°But as long as he¡¯s keeping us freed up to work on our own goofy nonsense, I¡¯ve got a cloud that needs brushing so she doesn¡¯t shed too much. And you lot are going exploring, right?¡± ¡°Yup!¡± Alanna said joyously. ¡°Our little Clutter is growing up so fast! Who¡¯s a good dungeon with a fancy swamp? It¡¯s yoooou!¡± She swept her arms out, spinning around underneath the incandescent lamps that hung from the structurally sound blankets and pillows of the dungeon. A swirling procession of stuff animals abandoned their own game as a few of them rushed over and started racing in circles around Alanna¡¯s feet, drawing another laugh from her. ¡°You know¡­ you know how we spend a lot of our lives in places like this, because of the spells and the upgrades and stuff? I¡¯m gonna tell you all right now, if there were no magic at all, I¡¯d still be taking hikes through this place every week.¡± ¡±I know what you mean.¡± Anesh said with a happy sigh. ¡°Well, Sarah, thanks for lunch and for the introductions to our little friends here. I think it¡¯s about time we set out, huh? We¡¯ll see you later tonight at home?¡± ¡±You sure will!¡± Sarah said. ¡°You guys have fun. Oh, and if anyone figures out why texts work in this dungeon but no other ones, let me know!¡± ¡±¡­I¡­ hm.¡± Anesh faltered, before Alanna grabbed his shoulders and steered him forward out of the pillow fort. ¡°Wait, no, I really need to think about this!¡± She heard him say as he was prodded into being a delver. ¡°Also, wait, Alanna! Sarah said she was going to brush a cloud! We can¡¯t just let her say that and¡­¡± his voice faded away as the blankets fell back into their form as a door, Keeka trailing behind Anesh and Alanna and giggling the whole way. Sarah nodded to herself, looking around at the gathered dungeon life and the few human and camraconda caretakers who were on site today. ¡°Okay guys, I¡¯ll be upstairs for a bit. You know where to find me!¡± She said with bright cheer that she found came a lot more honestly these days. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get at least one silly thing happening back at the Lair today. But it feels like a quiet day! I¡¯ve got a good feeling about it!¡± Sarah¡¯s latest hobby was tempting fate. Though she had decided not to think of it that way. _____ Camille the Azure was currently grounded. If she hadn¡¯t recently learned that she was, likely, a constructed life form that was less than a few years old, this would have been extremely offensive. Actually, it was probably still offensive. If anyone tried to actually treat her like a child, Cam would have employed her favorite tactic of staring at them silently with ¡®badly¡¯ concealed ire until they stopped and left her alone. No, the thing that rankled about the situation was that it was most likely a good idea. Her sister was in the city. A Crimson, one of what Cam suspected was six or seven total. A not insignificant portion of the Last Line¡¯s force projection, committed to this mostly stable suburban region. There was really only one reason that Crimsons were deployed anywhere on their own, and it was elimination of priority targets. So either Lloyd - she secretly enjoyed the overt disrespect of the nickname - had found someone in the area who needed to die, or, more likely, the Crimson was here for her. That last one was the obvious deduction, but Camille was, first and foremost, an intelligence operative. Obvious answers weren¡¯t good enough; only correct answers would suffice. Which was why Ben and a few of the more experienced rogues were keeping an eye on the Crimson. Often using the Order of Endless Rooms¡¯ highly illegal access to the nation¡¯s traffic cameras, but also just by employing classic physical surveillance. Cam kept herself apprised of the situation, even if she was supposed to be taking a break. In her old life, downtime was spent minimizing activity in order to heal from wounds, or training. There wasn¡¯t even a concept of making herself useful; that wasn¡¯t her role. She followed orders, and ensured that she could follow orders. There was nothing else. In this life¡­ well. Cam was still worried about how much she had changed. But never did it come into stark focus quite so much when she attempted to confine herself to her quarters, and found that it only took three hours of staring at the ceiling while laying on her decadently comfortable bed before she got bored. The sensation of it was so abrupt that she almost mistook it for a physical pain. Figuring out what was wrong hadn¡¯t been easy either. It was only when Cam had begun to head toward medical to try to get answers that she found herself alleviated from her suffering. Realizing that she even could get bored had been terrifying. More than the thought of being killed by her sister, more than the reality of being changed to suit the Order, more than any of the maybies or possibilities bouncing around. This was something that had happened, to her, and was going on right now. And she didn¡¯t have any survival tools to deal with it. So she wandered. For the first time, going nowhere in particular within the Lair. Not that Cam turned off the part of her attention that mapped the halls, compared her position to the convenient maps the Order had printed out for her, and updated her optimized routes to different parts of the structure. But that was at least something to do. Finding her way to the artificial underground park that had been created around the apartment complex, Cam had taken time to wander through the curving rows of bamboo and flowering shrubs. She¡¯d known there was a park here, but even during the recent paladin ceremony where there had apparently been some form of ¡®garden party¡¯ down here, she had never seen it in person. It was interesting. Limited lines of sight, but not fully obstructed in many places. Pushing through the bamboo would be rather easy, and judging by how there were small gaps in it, especially toward the ground, it looked like the local children had already figured that out. A fight here would come down to maximizing the use of the concealment, and not the physical barriers. Boredom faded as Cam began plotting scenarios in her head while she walked idly through the garden, passing stone fountains and benches and a few people who were casually socializing. It wasn¡¯t that she had intentionally sought it out, but this was familiar, if not relaxing. Eventually, she decided to move on, and circled back toward the central path. This, though, took her past other people, who Cam had a difficult time ignoring. Partly because she was trying to force herself to use the word ¡°people¡± and not ¡°humans¡±. If she was planning to shelter under the Order of Endless Rooms, then she should be prepared to follow their culture, and that meant that, no matter how much it still unsettled her, the ratroaches and camracondas and other things besides were people. The initial hurdle had been easy to clear, but she made sure to reinforce the thoughts over time whenever she had the opportunity, and Cam would place a moderately high chance that she wouldn¡¯t be able to easily revert if she were to leave. Partly, it was because they were struggling with moving a heavy couch down the smooth walkway. Three humans, two of them somewhere on the edge between children and adolescent, and one camraconda, and they were having a difficult time even with the ability one of them had to freeze matter in place. Cam ran through options as her even pace took her toward the group. Pretending she was busy was the sort of casual deception she was attempting to avoid with the people here. Flatly ignoring them was socially rude, but she held a unique position where she didn¡¯t need to worry about that. And yet, she could avoid both of those things entirely by simply offering to help. And¡­ it wasn¡¯t as if she had anything to do otherwise. Camille was bored, after all. ¡±Hello.¡± She introduced herself bluntly, blocking their forward progress by coming to a stop. ¡±Ah, scuse me!¡± The man supporting one end of the couch on his own gasped out. ¡°Just gotta-¡° Cam interrupted, still blunt. ¡°I can help, if you set that down.¡± The two kids did so almost right away, the couch¡¯s legs saved only by the camraconda¡¯s quick thinking, letting it drop in increments while the serpent pushed back with their body to bleed off force. The adult sighed and slowly lowered their side, shimmying in an awkward motion before slumping forward on the furnishing. ¡°Alright, a short¡­ a short break.¡± He sucked in heavy breaths. ¡°I got so excited when I heard the job had free rent, I didn¡¯t consider moving.¡± ¡±There are people who would assist with this.¡± Cam told him as she circled the couch, and the two young boys who were now sprawled dramatically on the smooth concrete floor. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do this alone.¡± She was aware of the irony in her words, but she also chose not to think about it right then. ¡°Stand back please.¡± ¡°Ah, no break then! Okay, okay. Hi, I¡¯m Bishop, by the way.¡± He offered her a hand to shake, and Cam paused in her examination before deciding to go for it. ¡°That¡¯s Andy and Patrick over there being drama queens.¡± ¡±Dad!¡± The two yelled at once, before they split off. ¡°It¡¯s too heavy!¡± ¡°We¡¯re exhausted!¡± ¡±See?¡± He smiled at Cam. She nodded once, her face still mostly blank. ¡°I¡¯m familiar with this.¡± She offered. ¡°Where is this couch going?¡± ¡±Oh, uh¡­¡± he rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°One fifteen? Gotta say, I know the boss covered the whole ¡®magic¡¯ thing in the intro, and it¡¯s been a hell of a week, but this¡­¡± he trailed off, sweeping an arm toward the apartments. Cam just nodded, uninterested. Socializing might have been a mistake. Peering under the couch, she gave a tap to the camraconda that was propping it up. ¡°Please let this go in five seconds.¡± She said, before kneeling and placing her shoulder on the frame. The camraconda hissed an assent at her before lowering itself down further, red and grey cables and a smooth grey camera face somehow expressing gratitude in that simple motion. ¡±Oh, let me¡­!¡± The man didn¡¯t get any more words out before Cam stood up and took the couch with her. It wasn¡¯t light, but that didn¡¯t matter. She was strong, and the biggest concern was focusing too much force onto part of the frame that couldn¡¯t take it. But this particular seat used a metal crossbar, possibly because it was a folding bed, and so it was robust enough for Cam to shoulder it and start walking with even steps toward the apartment. ¡°Excuse me.¡± She had to say a couple of times, along with a ¡°Careful please.¡± Bishop trailed behind her awkwardly, his sons¡¯ exhaustion forgotten as they raced to keep up and started barraging her with questions. Yes, she was fine, no, this wasn¡¯t some spell, yes, she could probably pick them up too, yes, they could climb onto the couch. Her answers weren¡¯t exactly an expression of her frustration; this was, after all, something to do and solving the problem of her boredom. But Cam was bad at saying no in social circumstances, and it almost unbalanced her when one of the boys pulled himself onto the couch to get a ride as she moved through the mercifully expanded hallways of the compressed apartment block. ¡±Well thank you.¡± Bishop said as he let her into their new apartment. ¡°Won¡¯t lie, wasn¡¯t expecting someone your age to be able to do that. Especially as skinny as you are! Do you want a snack or something? I¡¯ve got some leftover lasagna my wife made!¡± ¡±No thank you.¡± Cam kept her voice even. Even the new people here were open to her. It irritated her that James and his cadre picked people so effectively. No one had once expressed concern about her strength, it was both welcoming and infuriating. She could kill everyone in this entire basement before someone stopped her, and yet none of them treated her as anything except someone who needed a warm meal. Everything she¡¯d been raised with - indoctrinated with - was wrong. She didn¡¯t need to hide, or cloak herself, or conceal what she could do. She just needed to not be afraid. Which was arguably quite a lot more difficult; somehow being bulletproof didn¡¯t make Cam feel as if she was any less vulnerable. Even admitting that to herself was hard. She allowed herself a few breaths. ¡°Do you need anything else moved?¡± She asked Bishop, noting that the living room was empty of furnishings that weren¡¯t what she¡¯d just brought in, and a number of sealed cardboard boxes. ¡±Oh, no no, we can-¡° The camraconda interrupted him. ¡°Thank you Camille there are two shelving units, a bunk bed frame, and three mattresses, please help us.¡± The red-highlighted serpent sounded desperate despite the limits of their digital voice. Cam allowed herself a tiny smile. Finally. An objective. She brushed off attempts at both conversation and feeding her as she ferried materials down into the apartment, slowly transforming it from an empty unit into a place that was something of a cocoon for a home. Incomplete, but with all the resources it needed. And at that point, Cam had nothing else to do. So she employed her particular skills and silently made an exit in a way that would leave everyone uncertain that she¡¯d gone at all for the next few minutes. Cam continued her directed wandering. When she had empty hallways, she tried to build a tactical habit of checking her Breath and Velocity. Once, and only once, she updated herself on how her Sewer Lesson in ¡®earth sciences¡¯ was going, and found that she was still at four out of a hundred points. The idea of self-directed study was something she was vaguely aware of, but hadn¡¯t quite put into action yet, and as no one had advanced this particular Lesson and recorded the results, Cam didn¡¯t have a long term plan for what it took to motivate her. When she was in populated places, she watched people. Listened to those around her. And tried to find anything that could take her focus as she began to realize that something felt wrong. It was an insidious sensation, creeping up on her like an assassin and unwilling to announce itself or explain its own motivation. Only that she didn¡¯t like something; about the day, about her situation, about herself, she didn¡¯t even know. There was something out of place though. ¡±¡­list of all the things we¡¯ve run through the terrifying machine.¡± Cam tuned her attention onto one of the Researchers in the woefully insecure laboratory basement she¡¯d walked into. John, she was pretty sure his name was. He was talking to a camraconda that Cam remembered more clearly, Paper-And-Words being one of the ¡®newer¡¯ ones. ¡°There¡¯s a few billion suggestions, too.¡± ¡±Hyperbole.¡± The camraconda replied, raising its head up to rest on the edge of the workstation John was sitting at. ¡°Though yes, now we get to know how the potion department experiences life.¡± ¡±Mmh. Yeah, I guess we do ask about turning every magical substance into a potion on a regular basis.¡± The blonde haired human admitted with a nod. ¡°Anyway, Nik assigned me to filter this a bit. So¡­ what don¡¯t we want to upgrade?¡± The camraconda irised their lens at their conversation partner while Cam simply stopped nearby and openly eavesdropped. ¡°We want to upgrade everything. That is why there is a list.¡± John stared blankly down at the page. ¡°Okay. Okay, thanks. Unhelpful. Let¡¯s start basic. The most value is still in duplications, so no upgrading anything that can¡¯t duplicate, so we at least get a long term return on the coffee, right?¡± ¡±Sound assumption. That removes¡­ quite a lot of this. Why would someone recommend upgrading a lamp? How would we do that? The same restrictions in size apply! Do none of our delvers read our careful reports?¡± Paper-And-Words was righteously indignant. ¡±Man I work here and I barely read our careful reports.¡± John admitted with a sigh. ¡°Common orbs we can put on the short list, for obvious reasons. Do we have test results from leveler items anywhere?¡± Paper-And-Words looked around, peeling off the desk and searching for physical notes in the area. ¡°I do not¡­ oh, hello Camille.¡± They focused on her unarmored form as she stood nearby. ¡°Do you require help?¡± Cam shook her head once, tightly. ¡°I am¡­ no, I do not need help.¡± She stated. ¡°Please do not mind me.¡± John shrugged, though she could see that he at least tensed slightly in her presence. ¡°Alright. Wanna help us with this? We need to pare down the list of what to use the upgrade machine on first, and we only have a couple uses allocated each week until everyone starts doing regular big delves.¡± ¡±I¡­ do not know if I would be useful.¡± Cam said. John laughed bitterly, actually relaxing slightly. ¡°Hey, my job here is testing pens and doing wildlife studies on the shells.¡± He jerked a thumb toward the fenced in pen in the middle of the room full of stepshells and shellaxies. ¡°And I love it, but I¡¯m not good at this, so you can¡¯t hurt the process.¡± Cam almost frowned, but moved to stand closer regardless. ¡°Good!¡± Paper-And-Words said in the most cheerful voice the camraconda could make. ¡°Oh, even better, you are a combatant, yes? What would be of use to you?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t¡­¡± Camille almost said that she didn¡¯t use the same magic the Order did, but that wasn¡¯t true anymore, was it? So she turned her thoughts toward evaluation on a tactical level, and gave her best answer. ¡°Anything reusable is of value. Contextual items like the shield bracers, if they could be ¡®improved¡¯, would be best. Sewer Lessons offer excessive power to important individuals as well. Does the Order still have the resistance programs? How powerful is the improvement?¡± She decided to not worry about the logistics; that would be for the experts here, not her. Paper-And-Words, scanning their notes physically and through their skulljack, provided rapid and professional answers in a way Camille processed with her own rapid appreciation. ¡°Found it. The levelers see improvement in cooldown time, but it fails to copy. The Lessons have restrictions in regards to sharing copies that make it less useful, but that does not rule out testing. Indications so far are that it provides a twenty five percent improvement to things, but that is difficult to measure when it is semi-subjective. And yes, we have the programs. They are on the list, but have not been tested to see if improvements continue to copy.¡± ¡±Oh, the orb improvements copy!¡± John provided, eager to contribute something. He nodded with satisfaction to himself. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s probably gonna be what we put most of the uses into eventually.¡± ¡°My suggestions stand.¡± Camille said, stepping backward. ¡±I think we¡¯ve actually got an upgraded brooch and bracer in the vault. We should check those out real quick.¡± John hummed. ¡°Wanna tag along?¡± He asked Cam. She didn¡¯t really want to, but she also didn¡¯t want to go back to having nothing to do, so she gave a sharp nod as the human lazily rose and cracked his finger joints in a show of preparation. Unfortunately, as she followed John and Paper-And-Words toward the secure inventory of magical tools, the sense that something was wrong only intensified through the distraction. Forcing herself alert as the duo unlocked the door and headed in to check out their testing tools, Cam only got a few steps into following before she froze, eyes landing on something at the end of the long sterile room that she should have seen coming. The feeling that the world was askew intensified as, sitting on a sealed shelf with a number of orbs and a single tattered book, Cam saw a small pale flame with one of her sister¡¯s names etched on a plate underneath it. John and Paper-And-Words kept chattering about something that didn¡¯t matter as she stood there, not even trying to process the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her, because she didn¡¯t know how. Didn¡¯t know what the emotion was, didn¡¯t know how to even start to combat it. But something was wrong. Cam distantly heard John ask her something, but she was already turning to leave, rapid steps taking her out of the vault as her thoughts raced in circles. She wasn¡¯t meant to be here. Not really. Her presence was putting these people at unnecessary risk, and that was even with her own freedoms being clipped back to what she was used to. Her focus struck on that one particular thought, and her pace evened out as she headed for the elevators. If they expected her to self-direct, if Nate especially considered her enough of an adult to make her own choices, then she would do so. But first, she had standing orders to maintain her own health, and she needed lunch. _____ ¡°Okay, question for the group.¡± Alanna said as she led their party into the - rather shallow - depths of Clutter Ascent. Keeka kept close to Anesh behind her, both of them nearly getting caught when the obstruction Alanna was pushing away swung back their direction. Anesh caught the swinging rope, a cable dotted with small red and green Christmas lights, just before it got tangled in Keeka¡¯s antenna. Or would have, if the ratroach hadn¡¯t already deftly dodged past with a lithe twist that reminded Anesh that the person he thought of as a bright softie was also an experienced survivor. ¡°Is it about where the Attic gets its ideas?¡± He asked. ¡±I like the ideas!¡± Keeka said happily as he pushed a teetering cardboard banker¡¯s box back into a secure place so it didn¡¯t topple onto his boyfriend. ¡°They¡¯re cute. This place is cute.¡± The place they were in currently was one of what was now three ¡®biomes¡¯ of the growing dungeon. It was also the largest of the trio, too. The first real distinctly odd place that Clutter Ascent had made, or at least built on, was the elaborate blanket fort. Now serving as a part time home for the stuff animals when they weren¡¯t in the actual house below, it was like the dream of a child¡¯s perfect bedroom brought to life. It was also rather small, in terms of how much space it really took up. Where they were now was the labyrinth; a mess of sheet-draped furniture, cardboard boxes, stacks of dusty old photo albums, buckets full of tools that grew like weeds, and everywhere, shadows. The halls of the labyrinth were tight; even though they were actually wide enough to walk without hitting anything, it felt like it was wrong to brush against the old shelves and stacked false memories. And, as the dungeon grew up and learned new tricks, the labyrinth had picked up a ¡®fun¡¯ new trait too; it shifted. Not often, not always, and it seemed to only do it when directly observed. But the changes threw off the Order¡¯s maps every week or so now. And more than that, if you did decide to climb one of the tall shelves or precarious stacks of old empty tomes, there wasn¡¯t a lot to learn from a higher vantage point. Because there was just¡­ another layer of labyrinth. A thin one, a growing one, made up of lattices of badly braced ladders, plywood boards, and sometimes even rope or corded old bedsheets. The stuff animals loved it. It wasn¡¯t just home to them, though it was that too. It was a playground. A place of shadows and nooks where they could run and scramble as they grew into their sudden lives. At last estimates, the labyrinth was about a thousand feet to a side, but with how many paths and turns it had within it, that still meant it could take a little while to navigate. Which today seemed to involve Alanna accidentally almost hitting Anesh with a lot of Christmas lights, as he jerked back to avoid a loop of thicker bulbs clattering against the ten foot tall stack of cracked ceramic pots to their right. ¡°If I answer your question will you stop throwing illumination at me?¡± Anesh asked with a slight huff. He¡¯d toughened up, but he still wasn¡¯t in peak athletic shape like Alanna was, and his girlfriend was setting a brisk pace. ¡±Oh, shit! Sorry!¡± Alanna genuinely was apologetic. ¡°Uh¡­ what¡¯s up with all the Christmas lights? Was actually my question. Either of you got anything on that?¡± She came to a stop briefly at a wooden door with chipped white paint standing at the end of the hall they were on. It was a good landmark to take a left turn after circling around the freestanding structure. Anesh nudged Keeka away from the door, the ratroach having been about to open it and walk through just to see what would happen. ¡°It¡¯s a convenient little gambit.¡± He whispered. ¡°The door leads back to earlier in this mess.¡± As Keeka¡¯s eyes blinked in a fluttering sequence and he hissed at the deceptive door, Anesh raised his voice back to answer Alanna¡¯s question. ¡°So, I¡¯ve lived most of my life in flats.¡± He told her. ¡°But everyone has a box full of tangled colored lights, right? I must have figured that every American attic would be chock full of the things.¡± Freezing as a shadow darted overhead, Alanna didn¡¯t answer right away until she¡¯d tracked where the stuff animal that was trailing them was planning to jump out from. ¡±Okay, yes.¡± She said, the sound of plastic scraping on wood sounding as she hooked her foot on a dirt crusted bucket and dragged it aside. ¡°Hi.¡± Alanna dropped into a crouch to meet the stuff animal¡¯s glowing salamander eyes. ¡°Gotta be sneakier, buddy!¡± She tapped him on his snout, the stuff animal sputtering and frantically rubbing at the spot with dexterous raccoon paws before scampering away. ¡±What happens if¡­¡± Keeka paused, antenna waving softly as he cocked his head and curled all four arms inward, ¡°¡­when one of them succeeds?¡± He asked quietly. ¡±Then we owe them snacks!¡± Alanna said with happy confidence. Anesh patted Keeka on an upper shoulder. ¡°This is why we said it was okay if you wanted to stay behind.¡± He said with compassionate patience. ¡°They like this game, and¡­ well, we¡¯ve never actually found out what happens if they don¡¯t get snacks. But it¡¯s not like we¡¯re enemies. This is a game.¡± ¡±I won¡¯t be startled!¡± Keeka twisted his muzzle into the air, narrowing his eyes. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ they¡¯re small! They can¡¯t hurt me!¡± He said as if he was trying to convince himself and not the others. ¡°And besides,¡± he added more seriously as he dropped to a low crouch to crawl after Anesh and Alanna through a spot where stacked card tables formed a shallow tunnel, ¡°I am¡­¡± Keeka chittered as he looked for the word he wanted, ¡°not better, but I won¡¯t hurt them.¡± Anesh offered him a hand up on the other side, and held the ratroach¡¯s paw for longer than required once they were all standing. ¡±That¡¯s¡­ not what we¡¯re worried about.¡± He muttered. ¡°No one thought that.¡± ¡±I thought that!¡± Alanna unhelpfully offered. ¡°I mean. Well. Sorry, but I do worry about that. But not because I¡¯m afraid of you to be clear, just because I know exactly where that comes from, and it¡¯s actually a good indicator of if you are having a consistently better life.¡± Keeka leaned closer to Anesh to stage whisper. ¡°She says things that should make me angry, but I¡¯m not angry. What is happening?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t know but I¡¯m a little angry.¡± Anesh scowled after Alanna as they kept moving, the group rounding a column of cardboard boxes and clear plastic bins, pushing the loose ones back in with strategic motions. ¡°Alanna¡­¡± ¡±No, it is okay.¡± Keeka muttered, bifurcated tail flicking against Anesh¡¯s legs. ¡°Really. Ask about the lights.¡± ¡±¡­Alright.¡± Anesh let it drop. ¡°Alanna, tell me why the lights are weird.¡± ¡°Okay, so, Fredrick.¡± Alanna said, realizing that she had shoved her foot into her mouth and eager for the out, trying to pull her Empathy back from the two boys behind her. ¡°The¡­ the guy who owned the house downstairs, not the lil guy. You know Recovery followed up on him, just to make sure he and his family were actually okay? They are, by the way, but like¡­ we got a pretty solid profile of the guy.¡± Anesh helped Alanna push a heavy cabinet that was thankfully on rusty wheels out of the way; it would slowly creep back out behind them, but that was fine, they weren¡¯t in a rush. ¡°I mean, good? I like that. I like knowing he didn¡¯t just vanish or something.¡± ¡±Right. Right!¡± Alanna nodded, before wiping sweat off her forehead as they kept moving through the sunset sunbeams and floating dust. ¡°Anyway he and his family are Jewish.¡± She decided to stop burying the lede. Anesh nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. And then, when he caught the connection, added. ¡°Okay, wait, no.¡± Keeka looked down from the ¡®ceiling¡¯ that was over them right now, a pair of queen sized mattresses layed sideways across some tall metal shelving units. He¡¯d heard the tiny impacts of soft paws overhead, and was tracking their pursuer as they tried to get into position ahead of the party. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that word before!¡± He told them. ¡°Does a Jewish not have an attic?¡± Pressing his eyes closed for a second, Anesh let himself laugh happily, a wide and aching grin stuck on his face. ¡°It¡¯s a cultural religious thing.¡± He explained as Keeka walked into a hanging tangle of yet more Christmas lights, and Anesh carefully helped him extract his antenna from the wires. ¡°Some people don¡¯t actually celebrate Christmas at all. Also a lot of people who aren¡¯t religious celebrate it anyway. It¡¯s¡­¡± He trailed off. ¡±It¡¯s a mess!¡± Alanna said, turning back to face the two of them and shrugging helplessly. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s still kinda cool to look at how the culture surrounding it has spread and changed over time, and I do get what James is into when it comes to this sort of anthropology thing. But yeah, my main point is, where did the Ascent learn about Christmas lights when the guy who lived here wouldn¡¯t have owned any?¡± There was, Anesh quickly decided, a perfectly reasonable answer. Humans in the United States didn¡¯t seem to be able to own a home without strings of colored lights appearing. Whether they purchased them or not, it didn¡¯t matter. They showed up. Maybe it was for a different celebration, or a Halloween party, or it came from a mystery box at an estate sale, or it just fucking manifested out of thin air like magic. Or just literally magic. Or¡­ did people decorate for Hanukkah? Anesh didn¡¯t actually know, it could be perfectly normal. Their own apartment had a similar bundle of coiled cord and colored bulbs. And Anesh knew for a fact that none of them had ever bought it. It couldn¡¯t even be chalked up to the antimeme that had taken their friend from them for a while, because Sarah didn¡¯t remember where it came from either. It was just one of those things that occurred constantly enough that it wasn¡¯t surprising to find them here. He considered saying that, but paused, and instead raised a hand slightly. Next to him, Keeka¡¯s body rippled with a coiling tension as he spotted the same thing Anesh had. And behind Alanna, the stuff animal lowered itself over the edge of the mattress tunnel, holding itself up with a bushy tail that hid a shocking amount of power. ¡±What?¡± Alanna asked, still looking at them. She raised her eyebrows, and turned to look behind her, but picked the wrong side; seeing nothing but the path ahead through Clutter Ascent¡¯s labyrinth. ¡°Guys? You okay? What¡¯s up?¡± Alanna chuckled as she looked back at them. Keeka tapped two sets of soft claws on the end of his muzzle, before he decided to quietly point over her other shoulder. Alanna pursed her lips, took a deep breath, and slowly turned her head. ¡±Sssssssnacks pleasssse!¡± The stuff animal¡¯s forked tongue danced across their lips as it actually got a sharp intake of breath and a jump out of Alanna, before she started laughing boisterously, leaning over with one hand on her chest. ¡°Yessssss.¡± The young dungeon creature preened as it finally got the drop on her. ¡±Alright!¡± Alanna said, gasping for air through her surprise and laughing as Anesh and Keeka offered absolutely no help, the two just applauding with two different kinds of wide smile. ¡°Yup! Okay! Yup, yup, got me there. Whooooooof.¡± She let out a very long gust of air as she rose back up and snapped open one of the pouches on the vest she was wearing. ¡°Your prize, good buddy.¡± Alanna said, bowing slightly as she presented the stuff animal with a crunchy granola bar. The creature happily snagged it, and closed its eyes back at Alanna with what might have been a respectful dip of the head, though it was hard to tell with it being upside down. Then it hauled itself back up, and this time the skittering of paws across surfaces away from them was much louder. ¡°I bet James doesn¡¯t have to deal with being ambushed.¡± Alanna grumbled in good humor. ¡°Oh don¡¯t say that.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll be called down there any minute now, if you keep doing that.¡± ¡°Yes! Saying that makes it happen!¡± Keeka agreed, and Alanna couldn¡¯t tell if he was serious or kidding. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it!¡± The addendum didn¡¯t help her figure it out. They continued on, all of them feeling a little calmer and happier as they closed in on their goal. Almost out of the labyrinth and into something new and wonderful. Alanna couldn¡¯t resist one last bit of snark though, as they doubled back to avoid a whole spider¡¯s web of hanging lights. ¡°No one else in the Order is getting ambushed today.¡± She said, certain that was true. _____ For someone who had spent a lot of her known life setting up ambushes, Camille found it was surprisingly easy to be surprised in a social context. As part of her attempt to keep herself ¡®properly fed¡¯ according to the dietary information that Deb had given her, Cam had properly stocked her plate from the lunch buffet that the Order offered today, and was looking for a place to sit. But the entire room was rather full; almost every table was occupied by a colorful collection of humans, infomorphs, camracondas, ratroaches, and even some of the false humans. There was even a heavy paper drake sitting next to one of the tables in a way that would have blocked off half the room if not for the clever layout that left multiple clear paths around. The trap was sprung before Cam realized that there was a trap possible, as, before she could turn and leave to find somewhere on the roof to eat in peace, a young human girl raised an arm and waved at her. ¡°You can come sit with us!¡± She called, scooting her chair over and making space at the table she was sharing with a camraconda and¡­ Morgan, Cam remembered the messy haired teenager. Cam hesitated, and Morgan gave her an apologetic smile, but ultimately she did want to actually eat and a table was useful enough that she could withstand some socialization for it. ¡°Thank you.¡± Cam said as she took a chair. ¡°Hello again.¡± She nodded at Morgan. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡±Oh, you¡¯ve met?¡± The girl tilted her head. ¡±Yeah, I was trying to say.¡± Morgan ducked his head. ¡°This is Camille. We sort of talked on the long Climb thing.¡± He met Cam¡¯s eyes as he slowly worked through what social option he would take. ¡°Oh! This is Liz, and Color-Of-Dawn.¡± Morgan introduced the other two to her, pointing at them as if she wouldn¡¯t know which one was the biomechanical dungeon construct. Liz nodded. ¡°That makes sense. Still mad at you for that!¡± ¡±Okay, so, I apologized.¡± Morgan said in the voice someone used when they were performing socially in front of an outsider. Cam recognized it; it was a beneficial way to get information from people, but right now, she just felt like wanted to be somewhere else. ¡°But also I did ask and you can come along next time? There was a lot about training and practice and making sure you don¡¯t die and stuff. And I kinda don¡¯t want you to die, for a lot of reasons.¡± ¡±¡­Less mad.¡± Liz said, unfolding her arms and smoothing out her dress. Color-Of-Dawn leaned over toward Camille, mouth full of macaroni salad as it talked. ¡°They are like this.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°I cannot stop them. I have tried.¡± Color-Of-Dawn fell silent along with Cam, the two of them eating as Liz and Morgan gradually realized that their small bickering was circular, silly, and tapering off to just wasting valuable lunchtime. ¡°This happens.¡± The camraconda tried to explain. ¡±It doesn¡¯t bother me.¡± Cam looked down at her plate, starting to methodically spear greens with her fork, chewing with mechanical motions as she tried to ignore the flavor. ¡°They don¡¯t act¡­¡± she stopped herself. ¡±Like normal teenagers?¡± Liz said, smiling as she leaned her head on Morgan¡¯s shoulder, conflict dropped as the two of them went back to lunch and Morgan tried to not drop parts of his burger on Liz¡¯s head. ¡°Yeah, we know.¡± ¡±It¡¯s the therapy.¡± Morgan offered, trying to banter and not quite hitting the rhythm he was looking for. ¡°And the nearly dying. And the other trauma probably. It¡¯s given us superpowers.¡± Liz nodded eagerly, picking up the joking tone. ¡°Well, I had superpowers before the trauma. Mostly the immunity thing¡­¡± Her voice cracked and went quiet as she said that, before surging back as she pressed on. ¡°But also! Excellent fashion sense.¡± She said solemnly, sitting upright and casually brushing a hand along her shoulder to show off the frills of her long silver and blue dress. ¡°That isn¡¯t one of ours.¡± Camille heard herself say before she could stop the words. This felt too familiar, almost painfully so. Memories of sitting with her sisters, eating what they were provided, discussing operational plans and their next deployments¡­ Liz caught none of the history. Instead, her face lit up. ¡°Oh! I can help with that!¡± She offered without a second thought. Color-Of-Dawn and Morgan looked at Cam with open alarm on their eyes and lens. ¡°Oh. You should flee.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said, taking another measured bite of macaroni. ¡°This also happens sometimes.¡± ¡±Stop being dramatic!¡± Liz stomped her foot softly under the table. ¡°You two are boring. You¡¯re both wearing exactly the same t-shirt! Dawn didn¡¯t even refit it.¡± It was true, the camraconda¡¯s shirt still had sleeves for human arms just draped over its back. Liz turned sorrowful doe eyes on Camille. ¡°Color-Of-Dawn won¡¯t even help me make camraconda makeup tutorials. Think of how cool that would be! We could be internet famous!¡± ¡±No one says that anymore.¡± Morgan tried to interject, and was summarily ignored. Cam wasn¡¯t sure exactly why she felt like she was being included in the conversation, but she found herself participating anyway. Looking down at the plain grey athletic wear that she had on, she raised her eyes to meet Liz¡¯s as she continued to chew on autopilot. ¡°I wear this.¡± Cam said to Liz¡¯s horror. ¡°Sometimes with full plate. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m meant to be fashionable.¡± ¡±Everyone can be fashionable.¡± Liz adamantly took a stand with the conviction only a teenager could truly possess. ¡±I¡­ I am not¡­¡± Cam blinked, looking up at the ceiling and taking a short huff of breath like she had seen Nate do on multiple occasions when the man needed to center his thoughts. Oddly, it worked, and the words came easier afterward. ¡°I am not human.¡± She said simply. ¡°Things like nice clothing, or makeup, or adornments, I don¡¯t think they are what I am meant to have.¡± The interesting thing, Cam¡¯s analytical mind processed without her consent, was exactly how each of the three reacted. Liz leaned back expressing genuine sadness, Color-Of-Dawn radiated a casual understanding of her situation, but the truly surprising thing was that Morgan flipped from playfully fending off conversational jabs to open and overt anger with such a simple comment. The teenager set what was left of his sandwich down and swallowed his mouthful of food. ¡±Why?¡± He asked, voice hot, and then let the question lie without elaboration. Camille looked at him like he was stupid. ¡°We spoke about this.¡± She reminded him. ¡°I am one of the daughters of the Last Line Of Defense. I was created for a purpose. And even if I change, that fact won¡¯t change.¡± ¡±But that¡¯s not true.¡± Morgan said, narrowing his eyes in a glare that was only partly meant for her. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m around here a lot. I hear a lot of stuff people maybe don¡¯t mean to tell me. Is it¡­¡± he faltered. ¡°Do you mind if I say something personal?¡± Cam gave a brisk nod, wanting to see where this was going. ¡°Okay, well, the Last Line didn¡¯t make you.¡± He said. ¡°Right? You¡¯re like Color-Of-Dawn, aren¡¯t you?¡± The camraconda hissed out a sudden laugh. ¡°She is much more dangerous than me.¡± ¡±Okay, cool, so you¡¯re more of a boss fight then. Whatever. You¡¯re still from a dungeon, even if you don¡¯t remember, and even if you look like a girl our age.¡± Morgan suddenly realized that he sounded a lot more hostile than he meant, and his shoulders slumped as his voice softened. ¡°Well, Liz and my age. I just mean¡­¡± He gnawed at his lip. ¡°I mean¡­ okay. Yeah. You¡¯re like Dawn. And it gets to dress up. All the camracondas do. Even ratroaches have fashion. Especially the ones that¡¯re friends-with-slash-victims-of Liz.¡± He leaned sideways to bump shoulders with the girl, who gave him a satisfied grin. ¡°I guess¡­¡± ¡±I understand your point.¡± Camille said, trying to cut him off. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± But Morgan shook his head, defiantly defending his point. ¡°No, it¡¯s important!¡± He insisted. ¡°You¡¯re not what you were made to be, right? That¡¯s what we talked about. That¡¯s been true this whole time; you can wear makeup if you want because you¡¯re not the thing you were made to be. You¡¯re the thing you are now.¡± ¡±Ooh!¡± Liz perked up even further. ¡°If you really want, I could give you a makeover?¡± Camille turned a blankly confused stare on the girl, and Liz pursed her lips, eyes still bright with optimism. ¡°A¡­ short makeover? If you¡¯re busy? All my stuff is downstairs already anyway? We could go right now?¡± Color-Of-Dawn swept the last of the food off its plate with a wide bite, and then turned to Camille, digital voice ringing out. ¡°We have crossed the threshold.¡± It proclaimed. ¡°Liz will be devastated if you say no now. And if you don¡¯t like it, she is actually good at not pressing the issue further.¡± It added the last part in a quietly reassuring addendum. Camille¡¯s mouth twisted in a line. She was supposed to be¡­ doing something. But even her- even Nate had made time to humor some of the younger people here. And there wasn¡¯t actually a time limit on her decision. And¡­ she didn¡¯t know why, but something Morgan had said stuck in her chest. She wasn¡¯t what she was made to be. And that felt wrong. She was wrong; broken, discarded, lost. She wasn¡¯t what she was supposed to be. But also, she was. She was exactly what she had thought she wanted. She was a fighter and an operator and her actions safeguarded humanity. She was exactly what she had been told she was meant for. But she didn¡¯t feel like Camille. She didn¡¯t know what Camille felt like. Did Camille like wearing makeup and wearing colors that weren¡¯t light grey? How would she know? ¡±I¡­ I would¡­¡± Cam felt like she wanted to scream. This wasn¡¯t right. There was an instinct in her thoughts that told her this was even farther from what she was supposed to be doing than before. And as soon as she identified it, she carved it out, and gave a steady answer. ¡°I accept your proposition.¡± She said flatly, standing up and moving her effectively emptied plate to the neat pile the others had made of their own dishes. ¡°But I would prefer not to waste time.¡± Liz was already on her feet, clapping her hands excitedly and with undisguised delight on her face. ¡°Oh! Yes! This will be fun, you¡¯ll see!¡± She declared, taking Cam¡¯s hand and realizing as she tried to lead the soldier away that Cam was basically immovable even if she wasn¡¯t draped in two hundred pounds of steel. ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡±Yes. Lead the way.¡± Cam said as the other two rose to follow behind them. ¡°And while we do this, Morgan, explain what a ¡®boss fight¡¯ is.¡± _____ When Anesh, Alanna, and Keeka actually emerged from the labyrinth and into the newest part of Clutter Asecent, their conversation quieted. Not because they suddenly had nothing to talk about - they were in the middle of workshopping a bingo card for James based antics so they could turn the daily texts into a friendly competition - but because very quickly, they realized that most of what they wanted to say in this area was different versions of ¡®wow¡¯, and that talking too loudly startled the local wildlife. The distinction in where one part of the dungeon ended and the next began was clear. Because suddenly, there was water lapping at their shoes; cool and clear, with a layer of dusty silt at the bottom that poofed up with every step, the wood of the floor didn¡¯t seem to be adversely affected by being utterly submerged. A few steps further, past a few last pieces of wooden furniture, and the labyrinth was behind them, and they could see quite a lot farther than they expected. The water level didn¡¯t rise, so much as the floor sloped downward so softly that it was hard to notice. But while it was clear that the whole place was slightly underwater, it was also easy to see places where there were deeper pools, connected to each other by small streams that wove between the roots. The roots of dressers and cabinets, the normally thick blocky furnishings showing off rougher and rounder edges here as their legs coiled and sunk into the silt covered wood floor. And they were larger themselves, towering up toward the rafters that stretched overhead as space warped slightly, ten or twenty foot tall living cabinets dominating the view. They had branches, too; not any kind of warped home decor or stored objects that belonged in an attic, just branches. Tree limbs, thin and new but clearly still growing, some of them with a light covering of soft green moss. Of course, those branches grew strange fruit. On one, nylon grew in a cascade like a pinecone, dozens of ball caps clustered up on each other as a single oddly branded plant. On another, what looked like an ordinary flower - four broad pink petals, a soft yellow core, a few grabbing tendrils holding it to the side of the dresser - turned out to be the source of one of the earthy scents in the air, as it would regularly make a noise like a saw rasping on wood, emitting pollen that tasted of sawdust. Another had spare lightbulbs growing on its side like mushrooms. And everywhere, worn old blankets that looked handmade and well loved even though they must have only been made in the last month grew in scraps and ribbons; a cascade of vines and fronds in the form of fabric. Shapes moved in the deeper water. Indistinct despite the pure clarity, like little oval shadows that drifted lazily before sometimes flitting to a new spot at high speed. And twitching motions in the upper branches drew Alanna¡¯s eyes too, as she tried to spot if there was anything alive above them. Somewhere, something made a shrill whoop sound that echoed off the pooling water¡¯s surface before being consumed by the foliage. From high overhead, the light of artificial sunset streamed through two different and opposed mock windows. Most of the illumination was caught on the upper canopy, but enough filtered through in dusty shafts of deep yellow and pale orange light that the whole place was cast into a glimmering twilight. ¡±Holy shit.¡± Alanna exhaled the words, feeling like she¡¯d been holding her breath for the last half hour. ¡°How far does this go?¡± Anesh did some quick visual calculus. ¡°No more than two, maybe three hundred meters at most.¡± He paused as he noticed Alanna giving him a look, and sighed dramatically. ¡°A thousand feet, you imperial heathen.¡± ¡±When did Clutter have the time to make all of this? Did Sarah know?¡± Anesh stepped to the side, his old delving boots splashing in the shallows as he set a hand on the bark of an armoire. ¡±I¡¯d bet that she encouraged it, somehow. This place is beautiful, though.¡± He said softly, before looking around. ¡°Wait, where¡¯s Keeka?¡± A splash sounded, and Anesh and Alanna whirled with small plops of water at their own feet to see the ratroach heave himself up out of one of the pools. Black skirt, shirt, and fur all soaked through and streaming water as he rose up with a massive luminescent smile on his face. ¡°Look!¡± He declared, holding up all four arms and the squirming creature he¡¯d captured. ¡°I found a new friend!¡± It was one of the shadows from the deeper pools, but when pulled up and exposed, it became clear why they were so hard to see the shape of even through the pure water. It was just a blob. Slightly glittering, crystal clear jelly; it looked like it had impressions in it that gave the indication of eyes or whiskers or a mouth, but it didn¡¯t actually seem to be anything except a single amorphous slime. Anesh made a strangled sound as he lurched forward, feet getting soaked as he trod through the deepening pool to get to Keeka, flinching slightly as the other aquatic slimes still in the water explored his ankles with darting impacts that didn¡¯t actually hurt or seem hostile at all. By the time Anesh got to the dripping ratroach, Keeka was giggling excitedly as the slime reformed itself and began crawling up his arms, pausing to poke what might be its head at the different spots of cloth, chitin, and fur that it discovered. Alanna found herself wheezing with laughter as Anesh tried to exfiltrate the slime from Keeka¡¯s person, watching her boyfriend and his boyfriend take entirely different attitudes to their approach to new dungeon life. Leaning against one of the odd trees, she did get a reminder that this was a dungeon, and that meant it was more like the wilderness than it was a playground; there was a cluster of reeds growing out of the water nearby that had iron nails for thorns, she noticed. This was a place that they probably shouldn¡¯t just be playing around in casually, even if the swamp really was beautiful. A poking sensation on her hand called Alanna¡¯s attention over to where she had placed it on the tree. Turning her head carefully, she saw what looked like one of those bendy silver desk lamp necks, trailing down the towering drawers from five feet up and ending at her hand. Except instead of a lamp at the end, it was an almost perfectly normal snake head. And it was currently trying to bite her. ¡±Stop that.¡± Alanna told it, shifting her hand out of range of its fangs. It hadn¡¯t managed to penetrate her skin - she wasn¡¯t so easily stabbed after all - and it also didn¡¯t seem venomous. But this was exactly what she was talking about when she thought this place was still somewhere to be taken a little seriously. The snake replied by opening its mouth wide, pure silver fangs on display as its beady empty eyes watched her. There was a click, and then a bright beam of light from the snake¡¯s mouth that swept back and forth over Alanna. It startled her, she¡¯d admit. Because typically, breath attacks from dungeon creatures tended to be problems. But this one was about as strong as an actual normal flashlight; it seemed like the snake was just kind of mildly annoyed at her for not letting it eat her hand. She stared it down, and whether it was intelligent or operating on an animal instinct, the thin silver serpent decided that its best course of action was to slither around the tree and out of sight. ¡±Alanna, can you help me with this?¡± Anesh asked from behind her. She turned to see Anesh, pants soaked up to his knees, standing in the water cloudy with disturbed silt, trying to get the almost perfectly shaped RPG slime creature off of Anesh¡¯s head. It was perched on top of his skull, with Keeka¡¯s antenna poking up through it, and seemed to give the impression of looking around. ¡°I don¡¯t want him getting his head eaten by a monster.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a monster! This is a cute frog!¡± Keeka tried to make the words a joke, and only realized as he was speaking that he hadn¡¯t fully shed his belief in his own lack of worth. And he wasn¡¯t so capable of hiding his emotions that it wasn¡¯t instantly obvious, as Anesh turned a wet lunge into a quiet hug instead. ¡±Absolutely not.¡± Alanna said in answer to both what Anesh had asked and what Keeka had stated, giving Keeka a thumbs up that the ratroach shakily returned. ¡°You¡¯re on your own, and that lil guy is adorable.¡± Even if she in no way believed it was a frog. She cracked her neck, stretching out as she looked around this opening area of the Attic swamp. ¡°Let¡¯s go a little deeper in, huh? Keeka, let us know if your friend gets too heavy. I want to see if there¡¯s anything really weird in here.¡± From the looks of just this part, there was a whole lot going on here that Alanna really, really wanted to see. She might not always have the same priorities as her friends and lovers, but she did legitimately love the surprise of the dungeons, and the little magics they drummed up. And she was excited to see if they could find any of those cool surprises here today; whether they were useful or not didn¡¯t matter right now, only that she was in the mood to experience something unique alongside people she liked. They had the whole day to mess around and explore. And if there wasn¡¯t some massive problem interrupting them, Alanna wanted to spend all of it wading through clear water and seeing if the slimes liked peanuts. _____ Cam didn¡¯t know what she looked like anymore. Not in a literal sense. She had seen herself in a mirror before taking her leave and abandoning Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn to their own fates. The two had made a joking show of protest, but Camille wasn¡¯t stupid or socially incompetent despite her dislike for talking; she could see that there was a strangely powerful happiness among them to be spending time being silly together. For herself, she had ended up learning more than she had ever expected to know about makeup. Elizebeth had told her that she was ¡®a winter¡¯, which suited Camille well enough before she knew what that meant. What had followed that was a lot of sitting still - something she was good at - and being given different pieces of outfits to try on - something she was competent enough to do but didn¡¯t care for as much. And at the end, she hadn¡¯t¡­ recognized the face in the mirror. It was still her, obviously. But she had never seen this face before. Liz was no expert, despite her sartorial passion, but what she had done had left Camille looking like a version of herself that she¡¯d never have expected. Her eyes didn¡¯t seem so sunken anymore, and the lightest application of eyeliner made her gaze seem more alive, even when she was meeting her own eyes in the mirror. The harsh angles of her cheekbones were emphasized even further by a thin layer of something Liz had brushed onto her face. But in doing so, paired with a little rosy color on her cheeks, it made her look paradoxically less severe, even when she was glaring at her reflection. It wasn¡¯t perfectly done; again, Liz was no expert. Cam found herself thinking that she looked like someone attempting to look like a valkyrie, instead of actually achieving the goal. But¡­ she looked more whole than she felt. She looked pretty. Not beautiful or sexy or cute, those may never be modifiers that applied to her, and that suited Camille just fine. But she felt pretty. And that was hard to cope with. Impossible, maybe. Now, she was standing on the roof of the Lair, late afternoon breeze pushing the sundress that Liz had given her around, the red swirl patterns in the fabric seeming light and airy despite the darker colors. As her own piece of defiance, and what she hoped was a subtle thank you to Morgan, she was also wearing a flat cap he¡¯d given her, which made her look like she fit no particular style that was commonplace among modern humans. At least, as far as she knew. ¡±I don¡¯t think either version of what I am supposed to be, is supposed to look like this.¡± She said, voice stretching across the roof. The camraconda coiled nearby looked over at her, before looking back out toward the treeline adjacent to their property. A minute passed with only the noise of cars passing and children playing in the parking lot before the camraconda sighed, and twisted to face her. ¡°Do you want me to ask?¡± Watcher-Of-Birds asked. ¡±What?¡± Camille looked at them with blank confusion. ¡±I will ask, if you want. I listen.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds commented almost idly as he traced the path of a hawk. ¡°Okay. Asking. What versions?¡± Camille felt like this wasn¡¯t how conversations were supposed to go, but her life experiences so far had, she was starting to understand, constantly lied to her. ¡°There are two things I was supposed to be.¡± She said. ¡°Some form of defensive combatant for a dungeon, or, an intelligence operative and combatant for my¡­ for the Last Line.¡± She looked down at her bare arms; she¡¯d drawn the line at Liz covering her scars, and the lines of old damage showed clearly on her skin now that she wasn¡¯t wearing sleeves. ¡°This doesn¡¯t look like either of those.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds made a contemplative chirp, before looking away. Something about it made Camille want to continue speaking, and she didn¡¯t know why. ¡°I have felt wrong. All day long, all week long. I don¡¯t belong here. I¡¯m not supposed to be this.¡± Giving a tiny bobbing nod, Watcher-Of-Birds chirped again, inviting her to continue. ¡±And now I look¡­ human. She made me look like a person.¡± Camille couldn¡¯t breathe, and didn¡¯t understand why. She didn¡¯t know what was happening to her, only that it wasn¡¯t right. ¡°It¡¯s not in my nature. Either way I am, it isn¡¯t this. I¡¯m going to ruin it.¡± ¡±Residual instincts.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds commented idly, and Cam¡¯s head snapped to look at him. ¡°Have some too. Happens. Humans have them also. We all work around them. In our own ways.¡± He made it sound so simple. Like all she had to do was ignore the grim feeling of her past catching up to her. Camille the Azure shook her head. ¡±No. It¡¯s more than that.¡± But part of it wasn¡¯t. Part of it was her, and she was failing to adapt. But that was a skill issue, and she could be better. She twisted her shoulders, straightening her spine and breathing deeply of the air. Trying to smell what the others did when they said it was a beautiful day. Pollen and gasoline fumes and barbeque from the kitchen. It didn¡¯t smell like anything except her new home. But she could do that, at least; she could change in part. ¡°You have been good to me.¡± Cam said to Watcher-Of-Birds, but speaking about the Order as a whole. ¡°And none of you deserve the problems I would bring to you if I stay. Tell everyone thank you for everything. I am going to find my sister. Tell the others if you wish.¡± Watcher-Of-Birds nodded at her. ¡°I do not socialize often.¡± They said, turning back up to stare at the red tailed hawk flying over the nearby hilly residential area. ¡°Not skilled at it. Do not enjoy talking.¡± He lowered his head to look at Cam standing next to him, her own gaze still directed upward. ¡°Understand. Owe the Order everything. And you are part of us. Asked for help five minutes ago.¡± Cam nodded as the stairwell door to the roof burst open and Ben came running out yelling her name. She didn¡¯t say anything, she didn¡¯t have to. Just shared a silent moment of professional appreciation with the camraconda before she dropped over the side of the building. She hit the pavement with a loud slap, though no fall that short could hurt her when she was prepared, it didn¡¯t matter if she was in mail or a dress. And an instant later, she was off like a sprinter, long bounds eating up ground as she headed to the last rogue sighting of the Crimson that was after her head. She hated that this dress was easy to run in. It felt like a betrayal, somehow. More than breaking her movement restriction with the Order of Endless Rooms. That wasn¡¯t a betrayal. Cam didn¡¯t actually think she could betray them at this point. No, that was just her doing what was best for them, because none of them would order her to her death of their own volition. But once she found the Crimson, there was really only one outcome to the ensuing fight. And that would solve every problem neatly. Unless she won. But that was a problem for later. And she wouldn¡¯t win, anyway. Getting toward the downtown core of the small city was harder than if she weren¡¯t trying to evade notice by the Order. Camille knew how they kept watch, though, so her path took her down back roads with no traffic cameras, over the rooftops of old warehouse spaces and two story office buildings, and eventually out of a side street with pavement that had grass growing through the cracks to where an invisible line separated the bustling commercial center and the old homes the city had grown around. They¡¯d find her soon enough. But Crimsons were straightforward and stubborn, and her sister was almost certainly still in the area. Camille started methodically, flexing her fully charged breacher sense toward the buildings around her. A bank, a cafe, a library, a row of old houses that were probably businesses of some kind now. She didn¡¯t linger or press, only expending three to five points per structure as she looked for the obvious. The one thing among the Saturday crowd of mortal humans that would stop her. But nothing obvious turned up, even from the tall old brick building that was the library, which would have been a good high vantage point for her target to take a post atop. The most annoying part was that there was a farmer¡¯s market occuring, spread across a wide parking lot and attached park. A crowd of people, not enough to get lost in, but enough to clutter the area. And it wasn¡¯t a structure so Cam couldn¡¯t easily search it. But that was fine. She was dressed like a civilian, and could blend in easily, and that many eyes meant many chances for someone to have spotted her sister. People in the area were almost annoyingly friendly, and would volunteer information easily if they didn¡¯t think there was a threat. And despite her usual expression, she did fit the profile most humans associated with non-threatening. Female, slim, not currently armed, even her light hair color contributed to a subconscious bias in her favor. Which she intended to make use of before the Order caught up to her. Cam moved through the crowd, aiming for the ancient trees that ringed the grassy square of the park. She¡¯d skirt the area, before moving on and beginning to circle nearby blocks on foot if she couldn¡¯t find taller vantage points. The process of breaking the world down into tactical components was automatic; something she never really stopped doing even when she was in the Lair. And because she still did so, even when she had changed so much, the surprise attack didn¡¯t actually catch her off guard. Crimsons had a short life span, in Camille¡¯s experience. Because they were three things: dangerous, reckless, and stupid. They were the ones that had no problem with collateral damage or operating in dense civilian areas. They were also often the strongest sisters physically, though how that occurred no longer made sense to Cam. This one opened the exchange by simply attempting to swipe her mace through Cam¡¯s head, parallel to the ground in a perfect arc. If it had connected, it probably would have killed her, but Cam had spotted the Crimson approaching from two rows over in the market. It wasn¡¯t even hard, she was wearing armor. Had Camille ever been that foolish? Of course she had. It was how she¡¯d been dressed when she¡¯d met Alanna for the first time, after all. She pivoted to the side, avoiding the abrupt downswing that would have broken either her collarbone or knee depending, and let the Crimson shatter the glittering white stone of the park¡¯s walkway. It split under the simple swing with a rocky crack, a few startled yells coming from the humans around them, before some of those people noticed that someone with an actual weapon was trying to kill someone else, and a few yells escalated to shouts of concern and fear. Cam ignored them, and let a spray of broken rock bounce off her face as her sister tried to trip her while closing in for a closer brawl. The approach didn¡¯t work; Camille just leapt the swing and kicked herself backward, landing twenty feet away and sliding into an unsuspecting child. The boy was knocked supine and started crying, and Cam ignored that too except to begin striding at an oblique angle so that there would be fewer civilians in the line of the fight. A challenge, there were so many humans around. ¡±You¡¯ve been compromised sister!¡± The Crimson yelled at her, voice applying a heavy pressure to the air that made her heard by everyone within a hundred feet over the sounds of music and conversation and cars. ¡±I know.¡± The Azure replied flatly, fixing her sister with a dead stare as she circled, hands out, unarmed. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± ¡±Come back now.¡± The Crimson declared, beginning to stride across the grass toward Cam, mace held out at a casual angle. ¡°Father can fix you! This isn¡¯t the only way.¡± Camille blinked. That was such a monumentally stupid thing to say, that she actually felt something. Something unfamiliar and new and wrong, maybe, but also something she knew was true, and knew was hers, and suddenly, she felt the whole world pivot. Irritation. And the desire to be rude. ¡±I need to thank them later.¡± Camille stated, and her sister paused in her approach to start circling her, looking for an attack opening. ¡°James, Nate, Morgan, Keeka. For being so patient with me. Because when you say things like that, it makes me think that I¡¯ve said things like that, and I cannot imagine how much someone would have wanted to stab me after hearing that.¡± The Crimson didn¡¯t even tip her head or smile at her or show any unneeded emotion. ¡±Sister-¡° she started to say, all the condescension packed into that one word. ¡±I will not be returning with you!¡± Camille yelled, drawing stares from everyone who hadn¡¯t noticed the altercation already. ¡°Not to be fixed, which is a euphemism for killed in case your idiot Crimson brain didn¡¯t realize that yet. Not to be returned to the flock!¡± She slashed a hand through the air between them, punctuating her words with emotion she wasn¡¯t sure the source of. ¡°Walk away, now! Tell the thing that calls itself our father that I am done with him! Because if you come near me again, I am going to kill you.¡± Camille¡¯s tactical mind processed that there were four armed police officers closing in on the site, but they were moving from the other side of the market, and this was about to boil over. When Daughters fought, it didn¡¯t tend to stay in one place, so that wasn¡¯t a concern. What was a concern was the man that stepped between them as the Crimson started to move, raising his hands like he could placate them. ¡±Woah, hey, looks like this is a little heated.¡± The human said as he tried to interpose himself between them, though he was definitely watching the armed Crimson more than her. ¡°How about we-¡° The Crimson rammed through him, shoulder checking him aside like he was about as much of an obstacle as dry grass. He screamed as her armored boot incidentally crushed his arm into the ground, and then the Crimson was on her and she didn¡¯t have time to focus on anything that wasn¡¯t the incoming strikes. Screams and running humans faded away as Camille dodged the mace and took an offhand uppercut in the gut. She tried to shift her weight but felt her feet leave the ground as the Crimson hit her hard enough to send her flying thirty feet and into the side of a delivery van. Cam made it out without too much damage, but the van was going to need someone to get the sunken dent out of the side. She was back on her feet and in a crouch before the mace hit the van over her head and punched a hole in it with a metallic scream. There was someone down between her and the Crimson; that hadn¡¯t just hit the truck, it might have killed a bystander. Reckless. Stupid. And stronger than her. The Crimson moved faster than any human could, which wasn¡¯t a surprise, but she also moved faster than any given Azure could too. Camille made a dodge and a deflection, before she attempted a counterattack and got her arm caught in response. The Crimson flinging her across the park in the other direction and directly into the traffic between the weekend market and the brick building of the library. She hit the hood of a sedan, demolishing moving parts and sending the vehicle sideways to slam into another car that in turn crumpled a cyclist on the side of the road. Blinking spots out of her eyes, Camille came to the conclusion that she was going to lose this fight, and that her analysis on her odds had been largely correct. She still got up though. Walking forward with staggering steps as the horns and yells of the people who were staggering out of their damaged vehicles echoed around her. The Crimson shot toward her as a blur, disabling two people who tried to restrain her on the way before slamming into Cam again. This exchange, Cam tried to fight back, and landed several rapid jabs on the Crimson¡¯s head before a gauntleted fist took her in the throat and a snapped kick sent her flying sideways to ruin another car windshield and another insurance policy. None of the blows that could have killed or crippled an unmodified human hurt the Crimson, and the impact on Cam¡¯s side wasn¡¯t enough to do more than knock the air from her lungs. But that was how these fights started; testing, and eroding stamina and defenses and options. ¡±Stay down, sister!¡± The Crimson yelled, still without heat or malice. She was, Cam thought as she coughed and rolled out of the broken glass, exactly the worst kind of fanatic that the rogues learned about in their training. Real. Dedicated and full of conviction. ¡°You¡¯re not strong enough to fight me, and you shouldn¡¯t have betrayed our father.¡± ¡±Your father.¡± Cam breathed out as bits of safety glass fell out of her borrowed dress. ¡°And not even then.¡± She spat blood onto the asphalt to mix with leaking oil and antifreeze. The Crimson approached again, at an almost leisurely pace. She¡¯d left her mace behind, because she didn¡¯t need it for this. Not just for the Azure. ¡°The others said that you would do this eventually. But I didn¡¯t believe them.¡± Cam flicked glass off her face as she stood again and faced her sister, letting her talk to buy time. ¡°We were a family. Who could betray their family? And why? Especially when you knew this would happen.¡± ¡±You believed them because you are a fool.¡± Camille said before she could stop the words. ¡°Because the Last Line of Defense lies to us. Because if he is our father, he is a bad father. I left because I needed to.¡± Something flickered in her memory, and she softened her words. ¡°You can leave too.¡± She whispered, knowing the Crimson would hear. ¡°It isn¡¯t even that bad. Just the hardest thing you¡¯ll ever do in your life.¡± ¡±Idiot.¡± The Crimson¡¯s fist caught her off guard and sent her into the brick of the library. Camille rolled right, feeling her dress catch on a bush and rip slightly as the Crimson¡¯s next three strikes shattered craters in the old building. ¡°Idiot!¡± Her sister screamed at her as she kicked Cam out of the line of shrubbery and into a park bench that experienced complete structural failure under the impact. ¡°Azures are not strong enough to just leave!¡± Cam, laying on her back under an ancient oak tree and looking up at the summer sky through its branches, blinked. What an interesting thing to say, she thought to herself as she listened for the Crimson¡¯s approach. It wasn¡¯t just a Crimson thing to say either, it was a Camille thing. That mental trap that she¡¯d been feeling all day, suddenly, she could see the whole shape of it. Like a cage around her thoughts. Not magical, probably, not even especially hostile. It was a prison that she reinforced with her constant failure to adapt, and it was her own fault in a way. Of course her sister thought Camille wasn¡¯t strong enough. Because there was a right way for the world to be, and anything outside of that narrow band felt wrong, and therefore, wasn¡¯t explored. Was shied away from. Things like the smudged makeup on her face, or the idea of being friendly with a camraconda, or the nature of strength and how to develop it, these were things that felt wrong because they weren¡¯t ¡®supposed to be happening¡¯. But they had happened. And Camille hadn¡¯t died, or broken from it. She stood up, turning to face where her sister was circling her like a shark again as people having a picnic on the lawn backed off in terror, abandoning their lunch entirely. ¡°I am not an Azure.¡± Camille said. She smiled, and it felt wrong, and she embraced that with every fiber of her self. Maybe the blunt trauma to her skull had knocked something loose. Maybe that wasn¡¯t the end of the world. When the Crimson moved in, Camille exhaled Breath, and thought about the impromptu lesson Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn had given her while she was learning about complexion and eyeliner. The idea that boss fights in games were meant to be tests, not actual combat. An interesting philosophical distinction that she would like to talk more about later. But also, she learned, boss fights had one important factor. Camilles did not recover Breath fast, she had learned. But she hadn¡¯t been casting many Climb spells, and she had a very deep pool from her time in that particular dungeon. And also, Camilles didn¡¯t need to be warm, or to breathe that deeply. So she let the wings rip out of her back as the cast of Altitude Adept poured out of her and into reality, heavy scaled limbs and a dense leathery membrane punching neat holes through her flesh and the gaps already present in her borrowed dress. Thirty feet in span, Camille folded her new limbs in around herself in a heavy beat as she forced the air to move to her command and sent herself away from her startled sister¡¯s punch. And Camille embraced her nature - what she was before and what she was now - and turned it into her boss fight¡¯s second phase. And unlike a game, she had no intent on being a fair test. The Crimson took it in stride, rushing her again without any further comment, but Camille froze the air around her and manifested a duplicate of her right wing out of ice, the broad sheet of false flesh taking the hit and slowing it even as it shattered into frozen shrapnel. Then her own left hook slammed into her sister¡¯s jaw at a slight downward angle, and Camille forced a salvo of Paves down the channel at the same time. Pave was such an odd magic. People described it as ¡®like a punch¡¯, and what she hadn¡¯t realized was that it was like one of her punches. Her best punch, at the exact right moment. The Crimson slammed into the sod, leaving a trail of mud and shredded lawn thirty feet long as Camille pursued, silently breaking into a sprint with her wings instinctively angled for aerodynamics. She grabbed the kick aimed at her from the dirt and silently Separated Alloy, ripping the armor into nothing before her hand both flesh and ice bit into the Crimson¡¯s leg and started to pull. But her sister was no victim. She was a combatant, and Camille caught a strike to her temple from the other leg that dazed her. The Crimson flipped up, wheeling with momentum to hit Camille again but being deflected by a flap of the heavy wing. The extra limbs could let her fly, possibly, but flying was counterproductive. The intent was to kill this enemy, and so Camille used them as extra - very long - arms. Abusing the fact that she would be far, far harder to damage thanks to a number of purple orbs than even her armored sister. Their exchanges became more focused, neither of them speaking now, just tearing into each other with fists or whatever came to hand. The Crimson was thrown against the street, but before Camille could seal her in asphalt, had bolted to her feet, ripped a stop sign from its place, and bit the metal edge into Cam¡¯s wing and torso. Cam apologized rapidly and politely to the proprietor of one of the market stalls before smashing the Crimson through it, coating the woman in shattered mason jars full of honey before her enemy flipped the entire table on her. The next stall got no apology before it was crashed through, nor the next, produce and folding chairs scattered into the now fully panicking crowd. She tried to steer the fight away from people, their skirmish taking them back across the thin strip of road in a flurry of matched blows. And for her trouble Camille was punted through one of the library¡¯s plate glass front windows, recovered in time to avoid destroying someone¡¯s glasswork sculpture that was on display, and took the opportunity to divest the library of a piece of metal railing that she bent around her sister¡¯s skull in a stunning impact. The Crimson in return had broken through the purple orb protection and also several of Cam¡¯s ribs, before throwing her through a secondary window deeper into the building and through a bookshelf, to the protesting yells of the librarians. Two minutes of bloody attempts to murder each other later, Camille had to admit something. She was stronger than she¡¯d ever been. She was different than she¡¯d ever been. But she was going to lose this fight. If she¡¯d opened at her full might, without letting the Crimson damage and exhaust her first, maybe. If she¡¯d been smarter and opened with high caliber sniper fire using proper ammunition, then maybe. But she had failed to learn fast enough, and this was her price. Being thrown from the third floor of an old red brick library into a traffic light that arrested her fall only slightly before she hit the ground and the Crimson leapt after her like a cannonball. Cam felt so tired. She¡¯d tried. She really had. She thought that she¡¯d even made some progress, too. But at least, after this, there wouldn¡¯t be a problem for the Order. She hoped Nate wouldn¡¯t be too mad about it. The Crimson closed in, and Cam closed her eyes. And was rather surprised when she was still alive to hear the impact of armor grinding and clattering on pavement. ¡°It was so fucking easy.¡± Nate¡¯s voice sounded in her ears as she cracked her eyes open, one of them painfully swollen and bloodshot, to see the heavy man standing over her. ¡°Stay inside. How fucking hard is that? Cam? How hard is that?¡± Her sister was lying in the road to the side, looking confused as she pulled herself up. A bleeding gash across her face, cutting across her nose and left eye. ¡°Stay the fuck down asshole!¡± Nate shouted, pointing at her with the claymore he was holding in a single handed grip. Cam had a lot of concerns, many of them about how angry Nate sounded, but primary among them was why Nate was carrying a sword. ¡°Why do you have a sword.¡± She said, voice only mildly slurred by repeated blows to the head and oxygen deprivation. ¡±Because of this you fucking idiot.¡± He told her bluntly. ¡°You stay down too.¡± Nate ignored her attempts to rise and approached the Crimson with steady steps. ¡°Alright kid, you fought good. Surrender, and you¡¯ll be treated with courtesy and shit.¡± He told her. Because Crimsons were stupid, she ignored him, and Cam tried to shout a warning as the enemy daughter lunged for her- for Nate. She didn¡¯t need to bother. The entire road seemed to buckle as the asphalt swallowed her from all directions. Even then, she snapped through pieces of it before it could fully form, getting almost close enough to tear Nate¡¯s head off, before the chest piece of her armor was ripped in two directions as someone else with separate alloy took care of that, and Nate stabbed her through one of her lungs. The blade slipped into the exposed rail-thin frame of the immobilized Crimson so easily, it was like her body was made of cake and not magically armored flesh. The Crimson looked down at the sharpened metal planted in her body as the restraints took hold, almost confused about what had just happened. She tried to say something, but it just came out as a bloody cough, before she slumped forward. ¡±That gonna kill her?¡± Nate asked. ¡±Probably not.¡± Camille said as she approached, intent on correcting that. Nate turned and slammed a hand onto her shoulder where the joint of her draconic wing met her arm, steering her away in a move that she could have resisted but chose not to. ¡°Great. Ben, Bea, you got this?¡± He spoke into the open channel he was on. ¡°Good. We¡¯re getting out of here. Make sure to get names for Recovery to work with.¡± He led Cam out of the road as the distinct sound of ambulance and fire truck sirens started to close in. ¡°Why do you have a sword.¡± She repeated, not sure if this was a hallucination between her injury and final death. ¡±Because a friend of mine owes me a favor - owed me a favor - and I figured it couldn¡¯t hurt.¡± Nate told her. ¡°Well, not hurt me. Might hurt you. Don¡¯t touch that one.¡± He pulled a telepad and held out a hand to her, not looking her in the eye as she fumbled to get a numb and abraded hand to meet his. ¡°If you ever pull some shit like this again, I¡¯m going to be so fucking angry, you have no goddamn idea.¡± ¡±You¡¯re not angry now?¡± Camille felt like she should have taken Nate¡¯s commonly given advice and shut the fuck up. ¡±I¡¯m goddamn nuclear with fury right now.¡± Nate told her, his face red enough that she believed that might not be hyperbole. ¡°But that can wait until you¡¯re not bleeding.¡± He pulled the telepad, and the sound of chaos vanished from around them. And as soon as her feet were back on the floor of the Lair, Camille felt everything else vanishing from her perception too, her mind and body deciding abruptly that it was time for a nap. Blissful darkness took her before she hit the floor, leaving Nate standing there with a half ton mass of unconscious problem that he didn¡¯t think the two knights running to assist were going to be able to help him move. ¡°God dammit.¡± Was the last irate thing Camille heard before she was well and truly out of it. _____ ¡±I¡¯m not saying I hate it.¡± Alanna was trying to explain to Anesh as she continued to run her fingers through his hair. ¡°Like, it feels really cool.¡± He pushed open the front door of the Lair, letting her get past him as he tried to escape for at least a moment. ¡°You, six seconds ago, said you kinda hated it.¡± ¡±The color.¡± Alanna protested. ¡°And I only said that because I¡¯m incapable of not being an asshole lately and I kinda hate myself, okay?!¡± Keeka passed by behind her, two hands trailing through Anesh¡¯s hair as he passed, trying out this whole ¡®casual physical contact¡¯ thing and finding he enjoyed it. ¡±I like the color¡­¡± he chittered. ¡±I mean, I think it just doesn¡¯t go with my skin, though I guess I can fix that, and also I think it makes me look like an anime character.¡± Anesh said as he flicked a thick spire of his newly emerald green hair. ¡°And, knowing how dungeons work, it might actually make me an anime character. What does green hair mean? A little abrasive and expendable, right? Maybe I take that back.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Also, Alanna¡­ are you doing okay? I¡¯m not mad at you. I know you¡¯re just playing, and you¡¯re not being mean. You¡¯ve been weird all day.¡± ¡±It¡¯s true!¡± Keeka added. ¡°You seem¡­¡± he paused as Alanna turned to face them, leaning on the wall across from the lockers as Anesh opened one up to store a handful of relationsticks in. ¡°You¡¯re acting like me¡­¡± he whispered, trying not to falter. Alanna¡¯s eyes softened and started to water as she unconsciously stepped forward to start to give Keeka a hug. Which to her surprise, he leaned into before she could break away, before Anesh joined them a second later with a humored smile on his face. ¡°Aw, man, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve just¡­ I leveled up my Empathy the other day.¡± She sighed, her breath catching. ¡°And it¡¯s really, really hard. I¡¯m feeling too deep in people now, and I¡¯m noticing all the shit I do that no one likes, and I just¡­ I actually am starting to hate myself, you know?¡± ¡±I know.¡± Keeka said instantly. ¡°But do you know?¡± ¡±¡­Know what?¡± Alanna asked. ¡±That you don¡¯t have to.¡± Keeka said authoritatively as he leaned his head back into Anesh¡¯s chest, looking up at his new partner¡¯s green hair and calm smile. ¡°But that¡¯s hard to hear. So you get hugs.¡± Anesh leaned over Keeka, smushing the ratroach slightly so that he could rise to his toes and give Alanna a kiss on her cheek. ¡°Sometimes I think he¡¯s the one with the magical Empathy.¡± Anesh confided in her. ¡±Yeah, it¡¯s impressive shit.¡± Alanna nodded as she caught her breath and smiled back. ¡°I¡¯ll try to remember though.¡± She let them both go and turned to head deeper into the Lair. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m gonna head to meet Sarah for the podcast thing and also ask her about the raincloud yes Anesh. You good giving our report to Research?¡± ¡±Yeah, yeah. They¡¯ll love ¡®magical hot spring pools¡¯, I¡¯m sure. Wait, hang on, I just said that out loud. That is an anime thing, isn¡¯t it. Like a specific one.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t so much ask as he stated it with utter confidence. ¡°Bugger me am I going to turn into an animal when I get kissed? Is that this one? Did we show the Attic romantic comedy anime?¡± Keeka kissed him as Alanna walked away laughing boisterously to herself and anyone else in the front lobby. ¡°No, still you.¡± He said. ¡°Can¡­ can we watch that anime? It sounds fun¡­¡± ¡±Absolutely.¡± Anesh agreed, without knowing exactly what he was agreeing to at all. ¡°You feeling a bit better?¡± ¡°I am.¡± Keeka nodded as he followed his boyfriend past the recently stabilized wall of reptile tanks and the ring of beanbags around them. The black furred ratroach, still damp and in need of an actual bath after the Ascent¡¯s swamp adventures, paused and let Anesh trail ahead of him as he noticed who was sitting on about half the beanbags. Eyes closed, scaled leathery wings taking up a hefty profile of space, bruised arms folded over her chest, bloodstains on her face and ripped clothing, Camille lay limply in the Lair¡¯s lobby pretending to nap. Because once she woke up, there would be a lot of questions and yelling, and she didn¡¯t know if she could handle that. But as Keeka stared at her, she cracked her good eye open, and looked up at him. ¡±I like your dress.¡± Keeka said out loud. He had a dozen overlapping thoughts; about how she didn¡¯t look like a monster, about how she seemed different, about how something had changed, about how worried he was about her wounds, about how something in her eyes made him feel like she needed to talk and that he didn¡¯t know how to be there for her. Camille¡¯s mouth twitched into the smallest happy line. ¡°I like your skirt.¡± She replied awkwardly. She wanted to tell Keeka that she was wrong about what made a monster, both in him and herself, wrong about what she was supposed to be, wrong about how she was wrong, and that she didn¡¯t know how to say anything. Neither of them spoke for a moment. ¡±Do¡­ do you want to see the frog I caught?¡± Keeka asked, holding up a pair of paws cradling a teardrop crystal slime that was the furthest possible thing from a frog Camille had ever seen. ¡±¡­Okay.¡± She said, shifting her intact wing to make room for him to sit next to her. Anesh, watching as he waited for Keeka to catch up to him, gave his boyfriend a grin and a small wave. He¡¯d catch up later, he decided. That seemed more important than filing a report and updating their delver files right now. He did kinda wonder why Cam had wings though. He should ask later. Chapter 284 ¡°Collaboration takes place between autonomous partners who choose whether or not to participate, therefore, it is unlikely collaboration will develop without at least a measure of trust¡± -Tschannen-Moran, Collaboration and the need for trust- _____ James woke up in an unfamiliar bed, with slightly stiff blankets, sore and tired. Not the kind of sore of recovering injuries and bad bruises, but just the regular sore of being in a mortal body that had slept at an odd angle. And not existentially tired, drained of all motivation and soul, just the kind of tired where he had kept waking up in the night and felt like he needed a nap. He wouldn¡¯t be doing that though. Instead he exfiltrated his arm from underneath where Arrush was curled up on him, feeling the spikes of pain in his limb recede as blood flow resumed, and slowly began moving to get out of bed without waking his partner. That wasn¡¯t actually successful, but Arrush only opened the half of his eyes that were partly covered by the blankets; taking in the scene cautiously as his survival reflexes told him to stay still and pretend to be asleep for as long as possible or until he needed to strike. When he remembered where he was, and who he was with, though, Arrush slowly let go of those impulses. And soon enough, as he watched James sitting on the edge of the bed sleepily checking his phone, he drifted back to earnest sleep himself. James meanwhile was quickly catching up on a few messages before going to see what the day was going to contain. There were a few quick reports from the people traveling with the new paladins; he was doing his best to let them face whatever challenges they ended up with on their own, but he still wanted to know if he was going to be needed to jump in. Also he was just curious. The others were from Alanna, and, when taken as a whole, made James wonder if maybe getting back in bed and sleeping through the day was a good idea. And then after a pause, during which James could imagine Alanna laying down, getting comfortable, and then having a thought that demanded she reach out of the blankets and scramble for her phone on the nightstand or floor, one last thought. It was eight AM. Why Alanna was going to bed now James didn¡¯t know, considering she was usually the only one of them who was always on a normal human sleep schedule. Even with all the dungeon nonsense, he¡¯d never once known Alanna to oversleep or have insomnia or anything like that. Also James didn¡¯t know why that was what his brain chose to focus on. ¡°No, wait.¡± He whined lightly. ¡°You can¡¯t just¡­ dammit, I love you so much, but how do you have so much advancement in a Lesson on communication and still end up this bad at texting me.¡± Behind him, Arrush stirred, half-listening to his quiet words. ¡°Go back to sleep.¡± James whispered, standing with an aching stretch, and making the conscious decision to start the day. Rise, shower, brush his teeth, realize he¡¯d accidentally taken the toothbrush Sarah had been trying to turn into a magic item and that everything tasted like butterscotch, spend too long trying to figure out why Sarah¡¯s toothbrush had been on his bathroom counter, spend longer wondering if it was weird to use his friend¡¯s toothbrush, finish brushing his teeth, dress, head downstairs. ¡±Wow you look like shit!¡± Dance told him as he plodded into the living room and Charlie wordlessly presented him with a toasted bacon and avocado sandwich. The emotional whiplash between the camraconda sass and what was somehow exactly the perfect breakfast was weird, but James silently endured it. Alice didn¡¯t. The woman looked as tired as he felt, but that didn¡¯t stop her from grabbing Dance¡¯s neck and rolling the camraconda girl off the couch to impact the floor with a hard slam that probably woke up anyone who wasn¡¯t already awake. ¡°Come on, we talked about this. Stop swearing snakeybutt.¡± She said with a yawn. ¡±Stop throwing me on the floor, mom!¡± The camraconda protested, wriggling herself over to pull her head up and glare at Alice. James watched them as he ate and his brain came online. Figuratively; there was a general piece of advice about not using skulljack connections on unfamiliar networks, just for all the obvious reasons. A lot of people ignored it. James didn¡¯t. There was something amusingly familiar about Alice and Dance. Charlie, too, now that he thought about it. It was a kind of comfortable set of connections; they worked together, sure, but they were also a small family in their own weird way. It reminded him of his own little coterie, but different in all the details. And yet, it left him knowing one thing absolutely; even if they didn¡¯t know it themselves, even if they¡¯d never said it, these people would go to the ends of the world for each other. The other two staying here weren¡¯t quite the same. Myles and Yin were¡­ professional, in their weird way. They worked together, they accomplished goals, they might even like each other. But they weren¡¯t this. ¡°Where is Myles, anyway?¡± James asked as he reduced his breakfast to crumbs. Charlie didn¡¯t react to the odd phrasing. ¡°Breaking into a doctor¡¯s office.¡± He offered. James pursed his lips. ¡°That¡­ is¡­ sure a sentence that you¡¯ve said.¡± He reached for a more elegant response and failed to find it. ¡°Hey, you have a fake FBI badge in your coat, you don¡¯t have the moral high ground!¡± Alice called from the living room floor where she¡¯d ended up in a friendly wrestling match with Dance. ¡±Why were you in my coat?¡± ¡±It looks identical to my coat and I wanted gum.¡± ¡±¡­Alright, well, fine.¡± James relented. ¡°Maybe I was gonna spend the day impersonating a federal agent. What of it?¡± He folded his arms, not really offended and starting to really wake up now, as Alice dropped their conversation. One glass of water later and he even felt like he could pretend he was awake to a normal human. ¡°Alright. That was good.¡± He thanked Charlie with a sigh. ¡°So, what¡¯s the actual plan for today? Because unless Myles¡¯ HIPAA violation pays off we¡¯re still experiencing a drought of leads.¡± James gave a much more exasperated sigh, adding, ¡°I thought it was supposed to be chaotic down here.¡± Charlie gave him a sideways look as he methodically worked through cleaning the pans he¡¯d used. ¡°Were you expecting monsters in the streets?¡± He asked. ¡±Kinda yeah!¡± James admitted. ¡°Not, like, ¡®kaiju robs local bank¡¯ levels of nonsense, but something I could react to. Yesterday made me feel¡­ useless.¡± He shrugged, trying to brush it off. But it did sting. People he would have rather have been spending time with got to go on cool adventures, and he got to trace down family lines for missing persons. An activity that had resulted in finding eighteen more of those missing, and an equal number of dead ends. He helped Charlie finish cleanup, the quiet man seeming utterly nonplussed by James¡¯ complaint about wanting to fight monsters or something. At a certain point, Myles got back, Yin stumbled in, Zhu woke up and wrapped himself around James¡¯ arm and shoulders, and Alice and Dance stopped fighting. And they all started to lay out their plans for the day. ¡±Alright, I had a couple people check out the extended families.¡± Yin slapped her palms into the coffee table with a slap that made James wince as he suddenly worried about waking Arrush upstairs. ¡°Some of them are still around, some of them are dead, but like¡­ normal human dead.¡± ¡±What¡¯s that mean?¡± Dance demanded. ¡°How do humans normally die?¡± The camraconda hissed alongside her words as she stretched out and took up one whole side of their morning meeting¡¯s table. James let out a long breath. ¡°Medical issues, accidents, things like that.¡± He said. ¡°Nothing suspicious?¡± He asked Yin, and then held up a hand. ¡°Nothing suspicious relevant to this investigation.¡± ¡±Oh. Yeah, no. Normal stuff.¡± She rubbed her hands together. ¡°Anyway. I was out late rummaging through basements here. All our new disappeared friendos have the same general profile. Like they packed for a long trip, walked out, and didn¡¯t come back or turn the lights off. No signs of a fight or struggle or any shit like that. But just like for the others, Call to Blood blanks on some of them, and for anyone it doesn¡¯t, it just goes around town. Normal stuff.¡± ¡±I have an important question.¡± James said in the kind of quietly serious voice that made everyone shut up and look at him. His mind dwelling on his own use of the spell yesterday, he glanced around at their faces. ¡°Were there any of the signs we look for in abuse situations, for the people who it worked on?¡± ¡±No.¡± Yin said instantly, the irreverence out of her voice for a moment. ¡°But.¡± ¡±Dammit.¡± James and Zhu muttered in unison. ¡±You remember you only got three names for that family you stumbled ass backward into on your first day? Well. I got the last one, and checked it out. And they¡¯re blank to the spell.¡± Her expression didn¡¯t change, just a simple unhappy frown as she kept talking. ¡°And so are the other two you flagged, now.¡± ¡°Mmh. Bad vibes there.¡± Alice stated. Zhu gave a sleeping rattle of his talons onto the table, reaching for the familiarity of the laid out map. ¡°Vibes is for when there isn¡¯t something to look at.¡± He said slowly. ¡°There¡¯s a kind of trail there, isn¡¯t there? Evidence like the start of a map. We could track them, until we couldn¡¯t. They got injured somewhere that is off the grid.¡± ¡±There¡¯s insufficient data to make that claim.¡± Charlie countered, though he didn¡¯t really sound like he believed that. ¡±Sure. Cool. So, you¡¯re saying that everyone who¡¯s blank, they bled after being taken.¡± Myles rubbed at his eyes, red and tired from lack of sleep. ¡°Cool. Piss. Looking more and more culty as time goes by.¡± Charlie frowned down at the map, before flipping open a folder full of profiles the group had built on various known victims. They might be mysteriously vanished, made difficult to think about, and impossible to track, but there were enough hard copy records that weren¡¯t meddled with that their team knew quite a bit about them. ¡°Cult just doesn¡¯t seem like a likely situation.¡± He said. ¡°A lot of these people are textbook ¡®go to sacrament on sundays and temple every month¡¯ Mormon families. Not that I¡¯m saying they¡¯re all true believers, but typically we don¡¯t see cults pop up in enforced social environments like that.¡± James paused, mouth open like he was trying to figure out how to respond to that. Uncertain if he was going to get a real answer from Charlie, he turned to Alice and partly Dance, though the camraconda was distracted by something. ¡°What the fuck have you three been doing that you have a ¡®typically¡¯ for cult behavior?¡± ¡±Hey, don¡¯t look at me. Charlie just has a thirst for true crime podcasts while we¡¯re on the road.¡±. Alice defended herself. ¡±I can list serial killers in alphabetical order!¡± Dance added in her snarky voice; interjecting in a way that made James acutely aware of the fact that she was young in a sense that a lot of camracondas never gave him. Yin slapped the table again. ¡°No distractions.¡± She ordered sharply, pointing a slim finger at Myles specifically who looked around like he was confused as to why he was being targeted. ¡°What are we doing today? What¡¯s our next step?¡± That had been James¡¯ question too. He wasn¡¯t actually good at this, though he was improving. Investigation, he was finding, was all about locating starting points, and then ruthlessly digging into them. Which sounded nice and all, but it turned out, was often a pretty tedious affair. The problem here was that it was a tedious affair in a situation where they knew there was a dungeon nearby, knew there was something that could get through even their own informorph defenses to blank chunks of memories, and suspected all of this tied back to some kind of hostile actor in the region. Which meant that even though it was boring, there was zero chance that James wasn¡¯t going to be on guard all day anyway. ¡±I¡¯m going to sleep.¡± Myles said. ¡°Because I was up until¡­ now.¡± Charlie went next, calmly laying out what sounded like a tedious chore as if it were just another day at the office. ¡°My team is running a bunch of refurbished algorithms for finding dungeons through weather patterns and geographical surveys. But we need the actual records to plug in, so Alice and Dance are coming with me to a couple local libraries and one TV station.¡± James started to say something at the same time Zhu did, the two of them both stopping as the table looked to them next. ¡°Go ahead.¡± James offered. ¡°I think we¡¯re on the same page here.¡± ¡±Sure!¡± Zhu swept his open talons through the air, arm twisted around and palm up. ¡°I think we all forgot TV was real. Why don¡¯t we put out missing person¡¯s ads?¡± The question got a jolt of laughter and a head shake from James. ¡±Not even close to what I was thinking. I figured there¡¯d be some kind of camraconda related media disaster.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t be silly.¡± Alice admonished him. ¡°Dance is a kid but she knows how to behave.¡± She paused just long enough that everyone thought it was the end of a serious statement, before adding, ¡°It¡¯s me. I¡¯d be the media disaster.¡± ¡±Good to know.¡± James said. ¡°So, I¡¯ll be-¡° Zhu didn¡¯t actually want them to move on just yet, and interjected before James could continue. ¡°Wait, no! Why don¡¯t we put out ads or something? Put up flyers, or post on facebook, or whatever normal humans do to communicate with random strangers? The worst that can happen is that someone notices us and tries to stop what we¡¯re doing, which gives James exactly what he wants.¡± ¡±¡­It sounds bad when you say it that way.¡± James grumbled. ¡±It sounds like something we can try.¡± Charlie says, looking at the map of the suburbs, tiny lines for roads stretching for miles across their rented coffee table. ¡°Alice, you¡¯re not going to help with data entry anyway. I¡¯ll do that, you take Dance and get some flyers made. We can start tonight.¡± The speed with which they adapted plans and moved to add to their task list was impressive. James just hoped this wasn¡¯t how Charlie was all the time, because he had noticed that the scout team didn¡¯t exactly have a lot of downtime. But for this one operation, it wasn¡¯t like he was clocking out after a standard eight hour workday either, so he let it go unremarked upon. What he did remark on was his own goal. ¡°And I¡¯ll be talking to cops. As mentioned, pretending to be a fed.¡± James didn¡¯t actually like it. It wasn¡¯t a fun game or anything, it was impersonation and fraud in a way that was very illegal, not to mention that he just preferred to be bluntly honest with people. But like it or not, the Order might need information the police had if they were going to help, and the police weren¡¯t helping, because they didn¡¯t know. So something had to happen to move the intel from one side of the veil to the other. Maybe they could give everyone in the world an infomorph some day. Maybe right now they could equip enough of the police with navigators to let them cut through the majority of effects like this. But that first part was far off, and that second idea was bad. James hadn¡¯t trusted the police for a while. Not since a lot of them had tried to shoot him, not since they¡¯d failed to react to crises that had killed people in the open, not since he¡¯d learned about the pillar that seemed to have an in with their whole existence. They weren¡¯t some kind of ontological evil, but they weren¡¯t the people he trusted with power, and navigators did represent quite a lot of power. ¡±Why thank you.¡± Zhu whispered to him, and James jolted. Had he said that out loud? ¡°No, you¡¯re just easier for me to hear when you¡¯re musing.¡± Zhu added. ¡±Stop musing and get to work.¡± Yin told them all. Mostly James. She followed her own advice, standing and grabbing a folder of notes and addresses that had been left for her. ¡°I¡¯m out. Gonna go interrogate some therapists. Standard checks through the day!¡± She snapped the paper against her thigh as she strutted out of the room, twisting her arm around like she was limbering up for a boxing match. Myles yawned as the group watched her go with different flavors of concerned expressions. ¡°Well that¡¯s terrifying.¡± He said. ¡°Alright, naptime for me. Good luck, wake me if the world starts ending.¡± James was pretty sure that wouldn¡¯t happen. But he and Zhu both frowned in their own ways and tried not to let that statement make them nervous. As everyone gathered their stuff and got ready to move out, James ended up being fastest. Unburdened by anything except needing to put shoes on, already more or less ready for what he was doing, he headed for the front door ahead of the crowd. And in doing so, spotted Arrush sitting on the stairs, the ratroach looking none the worse for wear having used James as a pillow all night. ¡±Hey.¡± James said with a smile. ¡±I¡¯m coming with you.¡± Arrush said nervously. James paused for only a moment, looking at the tired figure leaning against the staircase¡¯s bannister with two of his thinner extra arms. Arrush was dressed already in his loose black clothing, tan fur and rough chitin poking out anywhere he hadn¡¯t been able to fully cover. But he stared at James with all seven eyes, and he didn¡¯t look like he was interested in arguing, even if he seemed legitimately worried that he was overstepping. ¡±Yeah, okay.¡± James said, and felt Zhu flutter out a sigh of relief on his arm as he accepted Arrush¡¯s offer. ¡°You need breakfast first, though, so- oh.¡± He trailed off as Charlie walked by and handed Arrush a plate, reaching over the wooden railing to pass off a familiar looking sandwich. ¡°Okay. Well. Eat that. Do you have your stuff on?¡± Arrush nodded, a set of claws making divots in the toasted bread as he sawed into it with his teeth, while other arms held themselves up to show shield bracers, or to tap at pockets that concealed weapons or other tools. ¡°¡­how do you get dressed so fast¡­¡± James muttered, before shaking his head. ¡°Alright, well, you¡¯ll probably want to stay in the car for the first stop. But yeah, let¡¯s get going. Gonna be a long day of getting stonewalled.¡± ¡±Get your music and podcasts requests in now!¡± Zhu cheerfully added. James wanted to say that made it sound even more boring. But Zhu was gonna be waiting in the car too, he just didn¡¯t know it yet. So he kept the thought to himself and just shook his head as he threw open the front door to smell the desert summer, and led the way toward slowly chipping away at a mystery. _____ ¡°This place smells cruel.¡± Arrush said, sniffing wetly as he stared across James and out the passenger side window to the building he¡¯d parked them in front of. Letting Arrush drive was one of those things James sort of regretted, even if he wouldn¡¯t say that out loud. His companion, he realized too late, had learned how to drive from Kirk and Alanna, learned on a box truck, and learned in Route Horizon. And of those three things, James didn¡¯t know which one accounted for how aggressively Arrush changed lanes, but he suspected it was his girlfriend. Zhu had flitted over to the ratroach at the start, with mutual consent, and his orange feathers had shifted to a pattern that looked more ragged and molted as he¡¯d wrapped himself around Arrush, adding his own tail down the ratroach¡¯s own bifurcated appendage for stability. Or at least, he said it was stability. And Zhu was a good stabilizing force; quietly and effectively guiding Arrush to apply the skills he¡¯d already learned in a non-combat environment. They¡¯d made it where they were going without any casualties, in or out of the car. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a rental.¡± James joked at Arrush as he ignored where they were parked and looked at the harsh lines on his partner¡¯s face where chitin and fur met and went to war with each other. ¡°Kinda smells like¡­ ham?¡± Arrush¡¯s neck popped as he twisted slightly to look at James with a nonplussed multitudinous gaze. ¡±Not¡­ not the car. The place. You know.¡± ¡°He always knows.¡± Zhu said. ¡°He thinks he¡¯s funny.¡± Arrush nodded slowly, wiping a line of saliva from the corner of his mouth. ¡±He is funny.¡± He said. ¡°But also¡­¡± ¡±But also he¡¯s still in the car?¡± James asked with a small smile. He stretched in his seat, feeling weird wearing a dress shirt and suit jacket when what he wanted to be wearing on a day like this was a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. It wasn¡¯t warm yet, but the summer morning was already getting started, and the chilly breeze was starting to lose ground to the heat of the sun. ¡°Anyway, I know what you mean, but also, how can you smell that.¡± Arrush paused, shifting so the arms from his back weren¡¯t pinned against the seat so badly. He¡¯d seen James gnaw on his lips or cheeks idly, but he refrained from copying that particular habit, just so he didn¡¯t hurt himself worse than he normally did. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­?¡± He settled on. ¡°S-sometimes, people change how they smell when they feel different. If someone is¡­ afraid, or angry, that¡¯s easy. H-horny, too, and that feeling th-that happens when you¡¯re doing the right thing really fast. But I need to know what they smell like normally first.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡±Hang on, I have questions.¡± Zhu¡¯s eye, multifaceted as it sat on Arrush¡¯s double shoulder, rolled to look up at his face. ¡°You can smell feelings? Like Alanna?¡± ¡±¡­Alanna usually smells happy. And like her deodorant.¡± Arrush said. ¡±No, like¡­¡± Zhu blinked and pivoted to stare at James. ¡°This is how you feel all the time when people do this, huh?¡± ¡±It¡¯s like having a conversation while being lightly bombarded, yeah!¡± James cheerfully agreed. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s really cool, but also how do you smell the vibe of a building you¡¯ve never been in from the parking lot?¡± Arrush nodded and drummed three sets of claws on the steering wheel. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± He said, giving a pleased little chuckle. ¡°Learning new things, all the time.¡± ¡±Welp. Cool as that is, I¡¯m gonna be late. Time for me to go learn things.¡± James softly snagged one of Arrush¡¯s paws and landed a light kiss on the back of it before he popped his door open and stepped out into the police station parking lot. ¡°Don¡¯t cause trouble unless someone throws me through a window!¡± James proclaimed to the ratroach who was flushed neon green so strongly that it looked like was bleeding through the few feathers Zhu had on his face. No matter how many times he did this - the espionage thing, not the flirting with Arrush thing, though that was fun too - James still felt the anxiety beforehand. Heart picking up speed, breathing suddenly noticed and awkward, thoughts racing as he ran through every possible fail scenario. And then he was in the front doors. Tall clean glass and shining metal frames swinging aside as he passed by people who clearly wanted to be in a police station even less than he did, though James was pretty sure that was because they were staff of some kind and no one wanted to be at work on a day like this. A scuffed and lightly speckled stone floor stretched off in a few directions, leading to a couple halls, a wide staircase with an elevator behind it for the upper floors, and to some benches and waiting room chairs surrounded by racks of pamphlets and hanging posters helpfully failing to inform anyone of the specifics of the law. James ignored all that, and also the skill rank voice in his head that doggedly pointed out how bad the electrical wiring in this place must be, and headed straight for the front desk, waiting for a few minutes for one of the counters to clear up before he approached with a smile and a ¡°Good afternoon.¡± The officer watched him approach with a bored look that James figured wouldn¡¯t change no matter how friendly he was. ¡°Gordon Haman, FBI. I¡¯m here to speak with Captain Mecham. Where can I find him?¡± The mention of his fake employer got a disbelieving smirk from the man behind the desk. The presentation of the badge, as well as an official business card proclaiming he was part of the organized crime unit that his coat provided for him, changed the look a little bit. ¡°Upstairs, take the first left and go to the end of the hall. Does he know you¡¯re coming?¡± The man asked as he slid the badge back to James. Which was good; it was actually from the FBI and James didn¡¯t want to ask their contact for a new one. ¡±He should, but feel free to call ahead. You know how often someone forgets to update a calendar.¡± He shook his head, not bothering to play up anything for drama. JP¡¯s social drills fell into place pretty easily as he did this; stay direct, don¡¯t offer extra information, remember that boredom is an effective shield against examination. It was so weird to James that it worked. He just¡­ walked upstairs, headed for the largest office at the end of the hall, moved through a whole open floor of cops that were focused on paperwork, coffee, and conversation to distract from the paperwork, and no one stopped him or even asked questions. The door swung open as he approached, and a bald man with thick jowls swept an alert gaze across the whole floor before picking James out and jerking a nod at him, turning to lead the way back into the office. James sped up without thinking about it, and only realized that he¡¯d been hit by a real life summoning ritual as he stepped in and shut the door. He loved how offices could tell you about people. Even people who put nothing in their office, they were still telling you they didn¡¯t care about their office. Or didn¡¯t want you to think they cared. This one was particularly barren, empty of anything except filing cabinets and a pair of modern black plastic backed monitors on the desk. No stray pens, no loose papers, nothing but the desk, the chairs on this side that were overtly less comfortable than the chair on that side, and the half-closed windows letting some sunlight in. ¡±FBI, huh?¡± The captain sat without offering a handshake or his name. ¡°You don¡¯t look like FBI. How¡¯s Michelson doing?¡± James pursed his lips at the attempted game. ¡°There are forty thousand people employed by the Bureau, more counting contractors. I work out of a field office in Oregon, and even then, I haven¡¯t met half my official bosses. I report to Malcom McHarn, whose number you have already, and if I¡¯ve ever met a Michelson, I put that in the part of my brain I use for storing people¡¯s birthdays. Which means I¡¯ve forgotten.¡± James gave a probing joke, just to see how this man would react. The answer was that he didn¡¯t, at all. No smile, but not disdain either, just focus on whatever he was doing on his monitor. Which was rapidly closing arrest records, James noted, the enchanted contact lenses he was wearing that let him see screens if he focused doing their job. Sometimes he felt like blue items were cheating, but right now, it was funny enough that it was hard to not laugh. Captain Mecham looked up and James met his eyes, looking away from the bandages he¡¯d noticed on the man¡¯s hand. ¡°So what¡¯s the organized crime unit doing here in my quiet city? You know there isn¡¯t anything like that going on here.¡± ¡°Organized crime and drugs, technically.¡± James said idly, maintaining the shield of boredom. ¡°And it might be that last part. I¡¯m looking into a lead on a case, and I was hoping to talk to a mister Calvin Smith. Cal to his friends. The problem is, he¡¯s not here.¡± ¡±You don¡¯t need to be telling me this.¡± The police captain stared down James. And somehow, the overt hostility made James feel more comfortable in this deception. ¡°Why are you wasting my time?¡± James blinked and frowned, leaning forward in his chair and losing the friendly aura he¡¯d been trying to put on. ¡°No, sir, you misunderstand me. Cal Smith should be here. So should his wife, and two teenage sons. But their home is empty, their neighbors don¡¯t know where they went, they haven¡¯t been seen at work or school for a week. They aren¡¯t in witness protection, I¡¯ve checked. So I¡¯m here to ask you about open missing persons cases, and try to figure out what exactly has happened in your quiet precinct.¡± James spread his hands. ¡°So that it can stay quiet, and you don¡¯t have to worry.¡± ¡°So you want missing persons records.¡± The man nodded. ¡°No. Get a warrant.¡± ¡±I¡­¡± James paused and tilted his head in legitimate honest confusion. ¡°That isn¡¯t something I need to do, Captain Mecham.¡± He said slowly. ¡°A list of missing people is public information, the details of the cases are internal documents and don¡¯t require a warrant at all from my department. But that wasn¡¯t what I was asking for. I¡¯m asking for information about one specific individual.¡± The police captain was openly glaring at him now. ¡±And how do you know this Calvin person was an informant?¡± He demanded. ¡°Or even that you¡¯ve got the right man?¡± James kept his expression unhappy, but didn¡¯t react to the specific words. He hadn¡¯t said informant, he¡¯d said lead. A quick decision played out in his thoughts as he weighed the pros and cons of commenting on that. On the one hand, it would help maintain his cover, but on the other, it would let the captain know he¡¯d maybe let something slip. James chose rapidly, hoping he wasn¡¯t making an error. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s not an informant.¡± He said casually, once again playing at only idle interest. ¡°Just a lead. But when leads go missing, it means there¡¯s likely something more that just a lead. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve experienced this before.¡± ¡±Yes¡­¡± The captain nodded slowly, jowls shifting as he smacked his tongue. ¡°I¡¯ve seen plenty of lowlifes try to cover their tracks. So you think someone killed this man, and his whole family, and no one noticed?¡± James nodded like he was participating in an investigation and not being probed like he knew he was. ¡°Well, I think something happened to them. Whether they left of their own accord or not, I¡¯d want to know. It¡¯s not a crime to move out of state overnight; it¡¯s not even that suspicious. But it is a crime to interfere with an investigation, which might have happened if someone made them leave. Or, yes, worst case, if there was violence.¡± James shook his head, glancing out the windows behind the captain as a few pidgeons whipped by, reminding him that he wasn¡¯t back home. ¡°And people did notice. But no one reported it, unless there¡¯s records I haven¡¯t seen?¡± Captain Mecham grunted, but did start tapping on his keyboard. Pecking away as he did legitimately search for anything regarding a similar case. It didn¡¯t take long for him to turn up nothing that matched, and James watched the whole time as the man flicked through results that weren¡¯t related. ¡°No.¡± He eventually admitted. ¡°Nothing.¡± Except it wasn¡¯t nothing, because James knew something that this man didn¡¯t know. ¡±And with no other reports of people going missing, it looks like that¡¯s something of a dead end.¡± James sighed, using the trick of watching over the man¡¯s head so it didn¡¯t look like he was watching for a reaction. And he was rewarded when he saw there was a small but real moment of smug relief from the captain. ¡°It¡¯s a long shot, but have there been any reports that¡¯ve reached you of anything that stands out lately?¡± James took a direct shot. Captain Mecham¡¯s glower was back in full force as he turned one of the monitors back so he could stare at James fully. ¡°Nothing. Like I said, this is a peaceful part of town. Low crime rate, no homeless problem, a whole family going missing would stand out, if that¡¯s what happened. What you''re looking for isn¡¯t here.¡± ¡±Looks like.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Well captain, thank you for your time.¡± James stood and offered a hand to shake. ¡°I¡¯ll be in the area for a day or two until travel arrangements come through. If anything comes up, you have my number.¡± Captain Mecham turned his stare back to the monitor, ignoring James¡¯ offered hand until eventually James let his smile turn brittle, and then dropped the arm back to his side. ¡°Right. Well, have a good one.¡± He shrugged idly as he turned and left, closing the door behind him and sighing deeply as part of a show for the room full of officers that was pretending to not be curious what he was up to. Back down the stairs, his shoes catching on the strips of black material adhered to the edges so people didn¡¯t slip on the stone. Out the front door without bothering to look at anyone. Remember that he belonged here, but also remember not to pull his phone out until he was out of the building. James missed his skulljack braid already. He wanted to live with it openly, but that was a terrible idea especially in this situation. So he punched through the menus on his phone manually, and let it ring as he placed a call. Eight rings later as he was halfway back to the car parked on the edge of the lot, Myles picked up. ¡°¡®M gon murder you.¡± The rogue muttered sleepily. ¡±Not with that level of energy you¡¯re not.¡± James countered. ¡°I need you to do something today.¡± ¡±You need me to sleep today.¡± Myles didn¡¯t sound like he was fully participating in the conversation. ¡±True. I also need you to follow Captain Mecham from the local PD. I just talked to him, and he actively tried to deflect me from looking into the missing persons. Also, the local records? The ones we know existed for some of the families? They¡¯re gone. Don¡¯t show up on a search at all, even for the correct names. Someone deleted it, and I suspect it was Mecham himself.¡± James stopped at the car, leaning on the roof as he draped himself across the side of the sedan. ¡°Pretty sure he thinks he deflected me, but I have no idea if he¡¯s going to try to cover anything else up, so I want you on that. I¡¯d ask Yin but she¡¯s doing something illegal and stupid.¡± There was silence from the other end of the line. Not complete silence, but the sound of blankets rubbing against a phone set to speaker. And then a long groan. ¡°Make Yin do it anyway.¡± Myles said. ¡°I¡¯m so tired.¡± ¡±There¡¯s magic coffee, regular coffee, energy drink, yellow orbs, and exercise potion in the kitchen.¡± James told him. ¡°Myles, please. I can¡¯t do it, he¡¯ll recognize me. Arrush can¡¯t do it, for obvious reasons. Everyone else has tasks today.¡± ¡±¡­I¡¯ll get another rogue on it.¡± Myles said. ¡°Phone, call Ben.¡± ¡±I¡¯m¡­ still here.¡± James cleared his throat awkwardly. ¡°Also you know there¡¯s no one free except Ben, who is paradoxically very noticeable.¡± There was another long and unhappy groan. ¡°Dammit.¡± Myles breathed out. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m up. I¡¯ll have my revenge for this later.¡± ¡±Noted. Thanks man.¡± James said, hanging up before Myles could start the revenge part early. He was shaking his head as he slid back into the passenger seat of the car. ¡°Well that was something.¡± He said with a sigh to Arrush and Zhu before they could ask. He explained the chain of logic to them quickly as Arrush turned down the Alanis Morissette song that he had been listening to as his eyes scanned every person moving through the parking lot. The problem was that the police captain had lied to him. That was something James had sort of expected to happen, through more in a general sense of negligence or interdepartmental interference, and less in terms of direct relevance to the case. Their investigation knew that there were missing persons files for several of the families, and they knew it because they had filed them. James was getting better at reading people, and he was prepared to say with reasonable certainty that Mecham had known that his search wouldn¡¯t turn anything up. Which meant he¡¯d known those files weren¡¯t there, for whatever reason. Likely because he deleted them. ¡±It¡¯s thin.¡± James admitted as he watched the front of the building through the rear view mirror, the structure occluded by the big sandstone sign out front proudly declaring it to be the North Smiths Police Station. ¡°It¡¯s real thin. But I have a bad feeling. There is a worst case here, which is that the cops are actively helping whoever is doing the disappearing. We¡¯ve only ever fought Statuses Quos that¡¯re¡­ like¡­ fifty-ish assholes in a contained area. This city has, like, a hundred thousand people in it? Their PD is gonna be at least a hundred and fifty people, spread out, and way more capable of calling for backup from sheriffs or neighboring departments. And also, they probably aren¡¯t all in on this. They¡¯re just gonna be normal guys who think they¡¯re stopping some nutjob. I don¡¯t wanna fight someone over mistaken identity.¡± ¡±Could it also just be this one guy?¡± Zhu asked as Arrush tugged his hoodie up. They¡¯d stopped at a red light, and there were a pair of energetic small children one car over that were pressed against the windows and staring. ¡°If he¡¯s a captain, that¡¯s¡­ how do police work?¡± ¡±Captain is pretty high up, yeah.¡± James confirmed. ¡°For a city like this, there¡¯s probably just one or two, and they manage day to day operations. The chief of police runs the broader thing, and then lower ranked officers handle the hands on stuff.¡± He pulled the visor down from the car¡¯s roof to shade his face from the sun, which had grown more aggressive while he¡¯d been inside. Arrush made a contemplative rapid clicking in his throat. ¡°Is it¡­ like Townton was?¡± He asked. ¡°Kirk told me about it. He said they didn¡¯t need that many people.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Zhu¡¯s mangled looking feathers ruffled against Arrush¡¯s cheek. ¡°You don¡¯t need to compromise a whole police station to get what you want, you just need one guy with access to a delete button.¡± It was a comforting thought, which was, itself, a worrying thought. It was possible that only one high ranking well armed government employee with access to sensitive records and the tacit ability to arrest or kill them all was working against them. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯d prefer none enemy agents of the state.¡± James grumbled. ¡±Well¡­ tough I guess?¡± Zhu offered in consolation. ¡°Thaaaaaanks.¡± James dropped his head to the dash with a further groan, only flinching a little bit as one of Arrush¡¯s claws settled on the back of his neck and tried to console him. He almost reflexively told the ratroach to keep his hands on the wheel while driving, but stopped himself before saying the dumbest possible thing to a guy with five arms. ¡°Okay. What now.¡± He breathed out the words as he tried to compose himself. ¡±We could talk to other police?¡± Zhu asked. ¡±This city doesn¡¯t have multiple precincts.¡± James reminded him. The navigator gave a rejecting flutter, eliciting a light whine from Arrush who was trying to pay attention to the road. ¡°No, I mean, talk to people who aren¡¯t just captains. Who else would notice missing people?¡± ¡±¡­there were¡­ there were younger people taken?¡± Arrush asked nervously. James raised himself back up into his seat with an intake of breath, the seatbelt only mildly trying to strangle him. He hoped Arrush was just nervous because of traffic and not because he was worried about speaking up. ¡°Yeah.¡± He said, choosing to address his concern later. ¡°Not a small number either. Lot of middle and high schoolers. No one younger than eight, at least.¡± ¡±The ones at h-home¡­¡± Arrush¡¯s raspy voice stumbled over the word, before he caught James smiling widely at him with one of his offset eyes and flushed slightly, ¡°the teenage humans. They gossip.¡± ¡±Yeeeeeep.¡± James nodded. ¡±Especially about things they think are weird.¡± Arrush added. James narrowed his eyes, looking over at his friend. ¡°They aren¡¯t giving you shit, are they? I know that¡¯s not something you just deal with overnight, but I know Brian was at least getting along with you, and a lot of the other survivors were making an effort. Did something change?¡± Zhu¡¯s insectile faceted eye focused on James from where the navigator was manifested wrapped around Arrush. ¡°How are you this stupid sometimes?¡± He asked. ¡±I used up all my brainpower lying to a cop.¡± James answered, replaying what Arrush had said to see what he¡¯d missed as his ethereal friend pointed out that he was fucking something up. ¡°Oh. Oh.¡± James rolled his head back to stare at the beige felt covering the sedan¡¯s interior. ¡°Shit, that¡¯s a good point. If they had friends¡­ I feel like you¡¯ve figured this out by now, but teenagers are absolutely incompetent when it comes to keeping secrets.¡± James told Arrush. ¡±Noticed.¡± Arrush gave a coughing laugh. James frowned, looking away and out the window at the passing row of dull green shrubbery surrounding an apartment complex. If this weren¡¯t something that was picking up in intensity now, if it weren¡¯t a problem that needed to be handled right away, he would have loved to have waited a couple weeks for Arrush to actually go through with his shaper substance surgery. The ratroach¡¯s body wasn¡¯t failing, but he was still just as vulnerable in most of the ways he had been when he¡¯d walked out of the Akashic Sewer, and James knew it. Arrush and Zhu both had forms that were suffering, and here they were tagging along with James as he stuck his nose into dumb places to try to see who¡¯d take a shot at him. Maybe this was a bad idea. And yet, somehow, he still felt better with the both of them along. Because despite feeling like an introvert a lot of the time, James actually hated being alone. Maybe it was just habit from the dungeons, maybe it was some other old trauma roiling in his head, it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here.¡± He said quietly, voice barely loud enough to be heard over the straining air conditioning. Arrush tilted his triangular head, chitin and fur shifting under his slipped hood. ¡°I¡­ am too?¡± He didn¡¯t see where James was coming from on this. ¡±Right. I don¡¯t actually know where you¡¯re driving us right now, but I¡¯m gonna look up the nearest high school that has a cheap fast food place near it. It might be summer, but I know where we can find some people to provoke.¡± ¡±Please tell me ¡®provoke¡¯ means ¡®have a simple conversation with¡¯, and not anything worse.¡± Zhu gave a rumbling sigh. ¡±You know it absolutely does not.¡± James grinned down at his phone as he tapped in a search. _____ ¡°I hate this idea.¡± Arrush informed James as he sat awkwardly on the hard plastic booth of a Dairy Queen. The two of them were in the one seat in the building that was lined up with the door, so both of them could see everyone entering, and that seat happened to be one that just didn¡¯t work for someone with tails. To be fair, no Dairy Queen in the world had seating that worked for anyone. James was pretty sure they were universally, as a franchise, devoted to making the shittiest places to sit down possible. But he kept that part to himself. This one had the added oddity of having a wide selection of non-caffeinated drinks in the soda machine, and when James had made the connection on why, he¡¯d felt a little burst of satisfaction like he¡¯d solved a small puzzle. ¡±You don¡¯t think it¡¯s a little fun?¡± James asked teasingly. He only made the comment because he did know Arrush was mostly joking. And they¡¯d been here for half an hour and it had been fine so far, though it wasn¡¯t exactly the lunch rush yet. ¡°Actually, forget fun, I think it¡¯s important that you get to exist in public spaces. Even if we weren¡¯t here looking for something specific, everyone and their reactions can fuck off. You should get to eat onion rings in peace.¡± Arrush looked down at the cardboard box of fried food. ¡°I like onion rings¡­¡± he agreed, tentatively grinning. ¡°Keeka thinks onions are evil.¡± Arrush¡¯s smile turned distant as he looked out the dirty dining area window to the drive thru, thoughts cast to his boyfriend back home. James swatted away one of Zhu¡¯s talons from sleepily playing with his french fries. ¡°I dunno if I¡¯ve mentioned this, but I think it¡¯s really cool to see you and Keeka¡­ like¡­ forming those kind of opinions? Tastes and preferences and¡­ whatever an aversion to onions is. That¡¯s neat. Everyone should have foods they hate.¡± ¡±Really? Why?¡± Arrush held up a claw with an onion ring in it to stop James¡¯ response, wanting to solve the puzzle himself. His jagged teeth ripped the piece of food apart as he considered. ¡°Because¡­ because it means we aren¡¯t worried about food?¡± ¡±Kinda, yeah.¡± James hadn¡¯t actually been thinking that, but it was true anyway. ¡°But also, I dunno, that kind of thing is sort of silly and unimportant? Which only develops when you have time and space where you feel comfortable.¡± ¡±And now that we aren¡¯t¡­ aren¡¯t scared, we have that.¡± Arrush agreed with a slow nod, adding another napkin to the pile of scorched paper he¡¯d been slowly building up over the meal. ¡°If¡­ if we don¡¯t have to fight to live, we can do other things.¡± ¡±Yeah! And, like,¡± James snorted a laugh, ¡°there¡¯s so many weird hobbies out there. Many of them ones I¡¯m far too into. And I look forward to seeing what you end up falling in love with.¡± ¡±Keeka.¡± Arrush answered, the skin around his eyes turning neon green. ¡°And¡­ and y-you. Maybe both of you.¡± James gave him a knowing smile. ¡°No, I mean non-people things. But also what¡¯s that last bit mean? Like¡­ I know Keeka also likes me, I just haven¡¯t¡­ you know. Pursued that. Cause I have essentially no free time and apparently I treat murder investigations as dates, so¡­ wow I just said that out loud and realized how bad it sounds. Yikes!¡± ¡±Maybe.¡± Arrush said, looking down at his tray. ¡°But also-¡° he cut himself off as a new group of teenagers walked into the building. Eight of them, all boys or at least boy presenting. James recognized the pattern instantly; the friend group or summer club or sports team or something. Probably not the sports team, judging by the general vibe, but it was possible. They moved like a pack of boisterous wild dogs, roughhousing lightly with each other, swinging backpacks or shouldering their friends around. Two loud overlapping conversations and one of them just making equally loud sound effects to be funny meant that any of the people eating here who wanted to have a conversation were either going to have to leave, or shout to be heard. Pretty typical, James figured. He¡¯d warned Arrush about it, and his new boyfriend wasn¡¯t a complete stranger to being around excited teenagers. The Lair did have those, after all, and sometimes their boisterous antics involved literal magic, so it wasn¡¯t like this wasn¡¯t a thing that could be handled. James still hooked his foot around one of Arrush¡¯s paws under the table in the most comforting motion he could quietly make as the kids swarmed the front counter clamoring for ice cream and chicken strips. Most of the teenagers, that is. One of them hung back, at the rear of the pack. Suddenly quiet, not that it would be noticeable through the yelling if they weren¡¯t being watched. His eyes had locked on Arrush, only briefly flicking to James, but still moving with a kind of rapid analysis that James often saw during knight training sessions. Well, that or overt terror. He flinched like he was either reaching for a weapon, or for the swinging door behind him. Arrush sighed, deflating slightly. James grinned at the kid. And the teenager turned and bolted without a word to his friends. ¡±I know it¡¯s working.¡± Arrush breathed out the last word with an exasperated whine, slowly picking up another onion ring. ¡°But it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s¡­ ah¡­¡± he straightened his back and dragged in air in a way that didn¡¯t work when he was slumped forward. ¡°Depressing.¡± He finished. James lost his frown, and his own straight back, leaning forward to throw his arms across the table and onto Arrush¡¯s extra limbs. ¡°I know. And I¡¯m sorry. I wish that people were-¡° ¡±N-no.¡± Arrush cut him off, coughing out a chuckle as he covered his muzzle. ¡°It is sad¡­ how¡­ they never learned how to avoid being spotted.¡± ¡±¡­Zhu¡­?¡± James said in an exasperated voice, looking up at Arrush with an evaluating gaze. ¡±Oh, yes, saw him. Easily followed, not even trying to hide really.¡± Zhu said. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on his route. Along with the others. This is easy, Arrush is right!¡± Arrush nodded sagely. ¡°Our ah-annoying kids know how to hide better. And not react¡­ ah¡­ what¡¯s the word? For making your life worse?¡± ¡±¡­compromisingly?¡± James ventured. ¡±Yes!¡± Arrush curled small claws around James¡¯ forearms. ¡°I like learning words.¡± He grinned wider, jagged fangs showing through the glowing crack of his muzzle. James sat up and gave him an evaluating look. ¡°So, to be clear.¡± He said slowly. ¡°You¡¯re bothered that they¡¯re making this too easy, and not¡­ the fear reaction?¡± Arrush blinked in a circular sequence at James. ¡°You told me¡­¡± he paused to catch his breath, conversation still quite draining, ¡°that anyone young needs time to learn. Not to be mad at them.¡± Arrush¡¯s smile and his words took on a sad tinge. ¡°I am hurt. But I¡¯m used to being hurt. I can handle it. They¡¯ll learn, and we¡¯ll teach them, and it will be okay. But if they run like that, they won¡¯t live long enough to learn.¡± The ratroach tilted his head toward the door, one of his spined antennae catching on the shoulder of his hoodie as it waved in the air. ¡±¡­That¡¯s¡­ both the most mature and most depressing thing I¡¯ve ever heard you say.¡± James admitted. ¡±Oh. Those are¡­ different?¡± ¡±There¡¯s a lot of times I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re fucking with me, and it¡¯s kinda great.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Okay. Zhu¡¯s got all three of them tracked. Let¡¯s get back to our little home base and check in with the others. We can take a little break, and then figure out how hosed we are.¡± ¡±Mmh.¡± Arrush nodded. ¡°I¡­ I love you too.¡± He said, responding to something James hadn¡¯t really spoken, but had said all the same. He stood to follow the human and his navigator companion out of the building, but paused before wading through the impolite crowd of teens. Not out of anxiety about being surrounded by that many unknown humans. Well, a little bit that. But mostly¡­ He needed to see if he could cram the rest of his onion rings in his maw before rushing after James. Chapter 285 "The need to be observed and understood was once satisfied by God. Now we can implement the same functionality with data-mining algorithms." -Morpheus, Deus Ex- _____ ¡°Where are we at, even.¡± James sighed as he looked over their list of leads that had been slowly crossed off as the day had passed. ¡°Like¡­ why is ¡®dungeon things¡¯ checked off here? Alice?¡± The woman looked up from her phone. ¡°Oh, that. Yeah, we got most of the bizarre emerald programs running-¡° ¡±Despite their best efforts!¡± Dance cut in, the camraconda expressing her frustration with the esoteric UI that the dungeon-generated code tended to have as she lay on the scratchy carpet of the living room floor watching Netflix upside down. Alice shot the young camraconda an unseen smile. ¡°-and we can confirm there is a dungeon somewhere within twenty miles. Or, at least the programs generally agree that it¡¯s likely, and when Mike briefed us on them he had a really long thing about how much they¡¯d tested on the dungeons we knew about, so¡­ probably? Probably a dungeon within twenty miles.¡± Alice¡¯s smile turned a little too wide as she let slip a defensive giggle. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s something?¡± ¡±¡­Clearly I should have been reading the documentation on these things.¡± James admitted. ¡°I thought they were a little more¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡±Precise? Nah dude.¡± Dance flicked her tail, not turning away from her show. ¡°You¡¯re thinking of the old AI that did this for us I think.¡± James winced, leaning on the edge of the couch. ¡±Ah.¡± He said simply. That had been¡­ not a great mark on the Order¡¯s record, if he was being honest. Oopsing into creating sentient life wasn¡¯t exactly new for them, and it was mostly fine. But they had massively dropped the ball in terms of leaving all the responsibility for the new creation on just Momo, a person who deeply cared, and wasn¡¯t equipped to manage a computer child at all. It was, James was absolutely certain, not Momo¡¯s fault how things had turned out; it wasn¡¯t really anyone¡¯s fault. But they could have done better. ¡°Okay. Well. Dungeon exists. Good to know I guess. Can we narrow it down at all?¡± ¡±It¡¯s probably a door?¡± Alice offered with a shrug that she held for a while, scrunching her face up. ¡°Uh¡­ yeah, that¡¯s it. Probably a door. Most dungeon entrances are doors.¡± ¡±That¡¯s¡­ not true?¡± James pursed his lips and looked down at the floor. ¡°Is it? Office, Sewer, Stacks, technically Attic, they¡¯re doors. Route is¡­ like¡­ technically an archway. Climb makes its own door. Underburbs we don¡¯t even know¡­¡± ¡±Four and a half to two. Most of them are doors.¡± Alice concluded with a nod. ¡°Anyway, you know how many doors are within twenty miles of here?¡± James didn¡¯t, and he didn¡¯t want to do the math either. ¡°Too many.¡± He settled on, getting the point. ¡°We could just start removing doors. I think Reed still has that blue power, we can make him use the crown over and over and come down here and eliminate all doors.¡± That got a laugh from Alice. ¡±For someone who¡¯s supposed to be our champion, you sure say a lot of stuff that makes me think you don¡¯t know how magic works.¡± She teased him. It was actually really deeply funny to James that he lived in a world where someone could say with authority that they ¡®knew how magic really worked¡¯, and actually be correct. Or at least, more correct than normal. Part of him wanted to correct her. He did know how blue absorb powers worked; Reed had once knocked himself out taking out a single set of double doors, asking him to get rid of every wooden square between hallways and bedrooms in the city would just outright kill him. And probably not work anyway. Blue ¡®spells¡¯ were actually some of the most dangerous the Order had, right up there with Climb magic, because they could and would cause organ failure, internal bleeding, or probably death if you overused them. James hated it, cause he really wanted to spend most of his time flinging around magic, and the fact that it was gated both by charges - and blue spells were expensive in comparison to other magic, since copies were taking up slots that could have been used for choice purples - and also by his untimely demise. Once, long ago, he¡¯d seen some asshole cult leader surfing on a mobile speed bump down the middle of the street at high speed. And holy shit, James wanted to do that, so bad. But it was perpetually out of his reach, unless he wanted to have his brain leak out of his nose. ¡°So where¡¯s Charlie?¡± James asked instead of commenting. ¡°I thought-¡° The sound of the front door opening announced the man¡¯s return, everyone turning to watch the hallway from the foyer as Charlie strode in with the same kind of almost detached alertness that he usually had. The door shut after he¡¯d already entered, and the reason why made herself known a second later as Yin stalked in, and stole the right to talk first. ¡°Good news! I found a wizard!¡± She announced. ¡±¡­That¡¯s a statistically unlikely coincidence.¡± Charlie said, not exactly frowning, but sparing a glance to Yin as he circled around the furniture and into the room. ¡°Here, Dance. I got you a gift.¡± He set a book on the floor near the camraconda girl, who turned over and arched herself upward to look at it. ¡±Chronicles of Narnia? This looks old.¡± She swung her head around in a long arc to face Charlie. ¡°Is this you trying to trick me into reading more?¡± ¡±This is me giving you something to read.¡± He said flatly. ¡°I was at the library, and it seemed like I should check something out. The other thing I got was this.¡± He set a heavy book that looked like it was bound in wide reddish leaves onto the table. ¡°Which I did not check out, as it was not in the system. It was filed in a mostly unused shelf, but it specifically did not have dust on it.¡± James reached out to flip it open, giving an expectant look to the man before getting a nod. When he turned to the first page, James was greeted with the sight of intricately drawn loops and shapes, things that might have been runes or writing or nonsense. ¡°This is a spellbook.¡± He commented. And then, in a much more confused tone as he realized what he¡¯d said, added, ¡°This is a spellbook?¡± ¡±Dammit, I wanted to get my own bullshit in first.¡± Yin grumbled, dropping into the adjacent loveseat and occupying the entire thing herself. ¡°I visited a therapist today. A few actually, but one in particular. Talked for a bit about a sociological study of the area, youth development, mental health trends, that kinda thing. Anyway, when one of them was out of the room for a bit, I searched the office. You know what I found?¡± ¡±A spellbook.¡± James answered idly. ¡±A sp- oh fuck you.¡± Yin defiantly refused to let him steal her moment. ¡°I didn¡¯t steal it, like Charlie apparently is cool with. Didn¡¯t know blatant theft was on the table. But she had it! Took a chance and studied it until the spell slotted; three minutes, it¡¯s called Jester¡¯s Sip, and it lets me drink something from about a yard away. Got an extra copy of it up here.¡± She tapped her head. James rolled his head back to look at the ceiling. ¡°Holy shit, I don¡¯t think we should be stealing magic from people who aren¡¯t evil, but wow I want that one.¡± He groaned out. ¡±Uh¡­ Why?¡± Dance asked, splitting her focus between him and the first page of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. ¡°How come you¡¯re all boring and you want boring magic, and not fireballs?¡± ¡±Fireballs are infeasible, maybe not real, and way too destructive anyway.¡± James answered, justifying how he¡¯d given up on that, alongside health potions and actually leveling up. ¡°No, this would be cool cause we have potions.¡± He said the words and got appreciative nods and hums from the others. ¡°Okay. So, what¡¯s this one do?¡± He tapped the book on the table. Charlie shrugged. ¡°No idea. I grabbed it and brought it back. Really, I found it by accident. I have no proof, but I think it was put there¡­ on purpose.¡± ¡±Like¡­ uh¡­ like it¡¯s a dead drop?¡± Yin asked, rolling the language around. ¡°Where better to hide a book in plain sight?¡± James nodded along ¡°Either that, or it actually is public? Maybe an open secret, maybe a very open secret, but that could be a place where people go for a public spell.¡± He sat down on the floor next to the table, opposite from Dance, and pulled it over. ¡°We need to know what it is, at least. I¡¯ll be listening, but don¡¯t mind me.¡± He took a long breath, already frustrated with this magic, and started to focus on the vectors of the lines on the page. ¡±We have, again, no proof either way.¡± Charlie¡¯s mouth quirked upward. ¡°Insufficient data, in every way that matters. But it was there.¡± He moved into the kitchen on the hunt for something to drink. ¡°Is Myles up yet?¡± He asked. ¡±James kicked him out of bed hours ago.¡± Yin called over. ¡°He¡¯s pissed off, and following a guy who¡¯s not a cop.¡± James looked up from the book, breaking his focus instantly. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± ¡±Yeah, he¡¯s been texting on the rogue channel about it. The guy was impersonating the police captain.¡± Yin nodded. ¡°No idea why. But Myles says he¡¯s awake now and he hates you and he hates this city.¡± ¡±Cool.¡± James massaged his forehead. ¡°Cool. Great. Awesome. That escalated way faster than I thought it would. Also I was gonna ask Myles for help stalking some kids tonight, dammit.¡± ¡±¡­do you ever think about what you say before you open your mouth?¡± Alice asked him with a worried look. ¡°Cause¡­ wow.¡± ¡±Yeah my guy, not a good look.¡± Dance hissed a camraconda giggle at him. James rolled his eyes and explained in detail. ¡°Zhu¡¯s got a few kids tagged who reacted like they might be delvers, or ¡®in the know¡¯. Which¡­ actually that level of awareness might tie into why there¡¯s a spellbook in a public library. Actually, Charlie, public library? Or something else?¡± Charlie gave a thumbs up as he tilted a can of soda into his mouth, and James just nodded. ¡°Public library. Right. Anyway, our orange feathered friend is napping now, which works out, cause I want to talk to them later when there¡¯s fewer people around, preferably in a private place.¡± ¡±Wow you really don¡¯t think before you speak do you.¡± Alice gave him a stare, eyebrows raised so far they vanished into her bangs. ¡°I¡¯m going to, in a non-creepy way, go out later to isolate and interrogate a bunch of teenagers.¡± James clarified, before sighing and looking back to the book, starting over and figuring he¡¯d wait for Myles to get back to ask about the police captain. ¡±Christ that made it so much worse.¡± Alice muttered to herself. ¡°Yin, get me out of this. What¡¯ve you got?¡± ¡±¡­Aside from telling you that a random therapist had a spellbook in her office?¡± Yin asked slowly. ¡±Yup.¡± ¡±Actually kind of a lot, in a hearsay sorta way. According to basically everyone I was talking to today, there¡¯s a weirdly high rate of people getting into fights around here. They wouldn¡¯t break patient confidentiality, which, fuck I guess good for them really. But talking ¡®bout statistics is okay, and almost every one of them had something to say about helping people deal with stress responses and PTSD.¡± She lounged back on the cushions, thin arms holding a throw pillow up in the air over her head. ¡°But not soldiers or anything. Like, housewives and trivia club students and shit. Normal people, with no signs of abuse, needing help like they¡¯d been in active combat.¡± She threw the pillow, catching it with her feet before flipping it back to her hands with an athletic motion. ¡°I think there¡¯s a dungeon here, absolutely. And I think everyone knows. And if Charlie says ¡®insufficient data¡¯ or whatever his vulcan ass is planning, I¡¯m gonna-¡± ¡±We did more or less confirm a dungeon, before you got back.¡± Alice told her. ¡±Also that¡¯s pretty compelling evidence.¡± Charlie added. ¡±Also you¡¯re a jerk!¡± Dance threw in, just to participate. ¡°Just cause Charlie only has one catchphrase doesn¡¯t mean you can be a jerk to him!¡± Charlie set his soda down on the edge of the kitchen table. ¡±Thanks, Dance. I appreciate that. Technically.¡± ¡±Ooh, technically can be your other catchphrase!¡± The camraconda girl excitedly offered. ¡°Moving on from my thorough and well researched humiliation.¡± Charlie said evenly, his steady voice only showing a hint of amusement. ¡°Did you and Arrush¡­ where is Arrush?¡± ¡±Taking a shower.¡± James answered, giving up on his spell study until this conversation was over. ¡°Turns out oils cause serious irritation when they get into ratroach fur, so¡­¡± ¡°What did you do?¡± Dance asked in a teasing voice, hissing in mildly rude joy like she was expecting James to be embarrassed by the situation. James just raised his eyebrows at her. ¡°Bought him onion rings.¡± He answered without a speck of remorse. ¡°Anyway, Charlie, no. Aside from turning up one suspicious police impersonator - and I¡¯m just realizing I can¡¯t even be that mad at the guy considering I walked into his stolen office pretending to be a federal agent - and the stalking thing for later after Zhu wakes up¡­ nothing.¡± He shifted his legs under him, trying and failing to get comfortable on the floor. With a glance toward the empty hall that led to the front door, James wondered if Myles was having any more luck. ¡°Is this how this goes?¡± He asked. ¡°Because I feel pretty useless here, not gonna lie.¡± ¡±The fuck are you talking about? This is the most productive spy fiesta that we¡¯ve ever had.¡± Yin flung her throw pillow into the back of his head, catching it on the rebound as James nearly headbutted the coffee table from the impact. Alice gave him an understanding nod. ¡°She¡¯s right, normally we know an area has a dungeon somewhere, and then we find nothing, and then we go home and regroup. I dunno if rogue stuff is the same, but even with the Underburbs where we absolutely know it is there, our team has never once found any of the things we get leads on.¡± She reached one of her socked feet out and wiggled it on Dance¡¯s back. ¡°It¡¯s fine, really. We get time to get good at working together, and it¡¯s all good practice I guess. But yeah, our success rate is a big old nothing.¡± ¡±Rogues have it a lot easier than scouts.¡± Yin admitted, though her tone didn¡¯t change from being abrasively snarky. ¡°Something you learn as a rogue? You don¡¯t always get answers. You dig, and find nothing, because you¡¯re either digging in the wrong place or things have been hidden successfully, and you¡¯ll never know which. And the only real way to deal with it is to keep digging.¡± She didn¡¯t stop spinning the pillow in her hands as she spoke, staring at it like it was a magical focus. ¡°Sometimes you learn something cool. Sometimes it¡¯s useful. Sometimes you¡¯re just confirming there¡¯s nothing going on. Today we learned there¡¯s a lot of wizards in this fucking city. That¡¯s good shit right there.¡± Dance tipped her head up in an indignant pose, sharp tongue flicking out over brass fangs. ¡°How come she gets to swear and I don¡¯t? I¡¯m gonna swear!¡± ¡±Don¡¯t even think about it young lady!¡± Alice shoved her foot up into Dance¡¯s face, sliding off the couch and tackling her ward. James gave a huff of almost-laughter as he watched them. ¡°I guess I¡¯m just used to everything happening all at once. We¡¯ve never really had a problem with our enemies being passive, you know? And now we don¡¯t even know if whatever¡¯s going on here is ¡®enemies¡¯ at all.¡± ¡±Could be new friends!¡± Dance called out, even as her physical voice let loose a shrill shriek as she failed to escape Alice¡¯s pin. ¡±Yeah, maybe less bug-like friends this time.¡± Yin said. Charlie didn¡¯t even look up from the map he was updating as he replied. ¡±Well that¡¯s just mean.¡± ¡±What? No, I mean, are the chanters not bugs?¡± Yin looked confused for a second, rolling onto her shoulder as she faced the group. ¡°Wait shit ratroaches. Okay, that was bitchy of me, my bad.¡± Standing up with a grunt, James carefully closed the leaf bound spellbook and picked it up, cradling the solid spine in the palm of his hand. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go upstairs and do this with less non-bug distractions. I¡¯ll let you all know what it is when I¡¯m done so you can pick it up too. I¡¯m assuming everyone here has spell slots for obvious reasons.¡± He got a series of nods and thumbs up. ¡°Great. I¡¯m gonna return this before the library closes tonight, too. Yin, can you get me one of those tracker tags you guys have? Also great. Cool.¡± He left the room with two overlapping conversations still going on, passing an exhausted looking Myles coming in the front door as he did. The young rogue nodded at James and looked like he wanted to complain about something, but saved it for later after a really quick update to confirm that, yeah, the guy James had talked to just wasn¡¯t the actual Captain Mecham. Which begged the question of why not a single other officer in the building had said anything. James filed that under ¡®problems for tomorrow¡¯, and went to check out the spellbook. Sitting up against the headboard of the bed, he let his mind relax, focusing just on the loops and lines of the spell, smiling softly at the sound of Arrush humming to himself in the shower and the cascade of water through the door. It took longer than he¡¯d expected, long enough that Arrush had come back into their room with still-damp fur, awkwardly hiding behind a closet door as he dried himself off and got dressed. Long enough that Zhu had woken up and started to slowly bring his manifestation to life around James. Long enough that James felt like he should have eaten more than onion rings for lunch. But eventually, he got a piece of alien information splashed across his conscious thoughts. |1 : 3 Slots Empty 1: 1 Charm River Transmutation +++ 1: 2 Saint¡¯s Wrap ++ 2 : -1 Slots Empty 2 : Altercation Imp Ward| James promptly fell off the bed as his vision swam and his balance failed, a spike of nauseous pain going through his throat and stomach simultaneously as the magic experienced a failure state. The Order had higher level spell coins, he¡¯d just never used any because they hadn¡¯t had the books for it. And it was only right now, in this moment of gasping for air on the bedroom floor of a rented house, that he realized that may have been a slight oversight. At least he got a mostly naked Arrush cradling him. ¡°This part is okay. I¡¯m fine with this. You¡¯re cute from this angle.¡± James croaked out as his ratroach boyfriend stared down at him with his array of eyes flicking in panic that slowly faded to a neon embarrassment. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He lied. ¡°Ow. Okay, ow. I¡¯m¡­ probably fine.¡± He checked his spell list again, seeing that the failed entry was already gone from it. ¡°Ugh. Okay, well, we¡¯ll have to slap a warning on that one. But hey. You¡¯re clean, Zhu¡¯s waking up, and I¡¯m not tired anymore. Seems like a great time to¡­¡± ¡±To rest. Like a responsible person.¡± Arrush told him with a rasping growl and a subconscious switch to Spanish. ¡±¡­Or¡­¡± James offered, struggling to stand. ¡°Or we could take our minds off this by going out and making the progress I¡¯ve been so craving?¡± ¡±¡­You are very unkind to yourself.¡± Arrush told him, looking displeased, but still helping James stand up with a pair of claws. ¡°Are¡­ are you hurt?¡± ¡±Nah, it just hurt for a moment, I think I¡¯m legit fine.¡± James wasn¡¯t sure how much of that was his Endurance and Energy bringing him back to full capability, and how much was that it was just a momentary flash of agony without any damage associated with it. But either way, he did feel ready to go. ¡°Alright, come on.¡± He said as he passed Arrush one of his hoodies. ¡°Let¡¯s go see if we can solve every problem tonight so we can be back home in time for the Stacks delve tonight.¡± Arrush leaned down to carefully tap his chitinous forehead onto the top of James¡¯ own head, mindful to not tangle his spined antenna in his boyfriend¡¯s long hair. ¡°Th-that will not happen.¡± He said confidently. ¡°You can¡¯t go¡­ into a dungeon¡­ tired.¡± ¡±I¡¯m not tired! I¡¯m¡­¡± James yawned. ¡°¡­shut up.¡± Now it was his turn to blush as Arrush chittered an actual giggle at him. He didn¡¯t mind so much; he didn¡¯t get to see Arrush laugh that often, and it made him feel a deep happiness to know that his companion was getting this comfortable. ¡°Zhu, you up?¡± ¡±I figured I¡¯d stay quiet until the flirting was done.¡± Zhu informed them. ¡°Or until it would be really funny.¡± James nodded. ¡±Zhu¡¯s up. Alright. Let¡¯s go, and I can distract myself from thinking about all the fun stuff happening without me.¡± _____ When Alex was told to go somewhere random for her errancy, she more or less took that to heart. It wasn¡¯t like she threw a dart at a map, but she did ask people who were more online than her to ask their various discord servers and gaming groups if anyone needed help with anything. Then she picked one of the comments, and went. Which was how she¡¯d ended up in Cairo for a bit. Only for a few days, but that was enough time to get a glimpse of the city that seemed like it was being dragged in two directions by time itself. Ancient mosques and libraries and tombs, meticulously preserved historic architecture so wondrous and heavy with time that it drew tourism in all on its own, and it abutted against apartments and shops that could have been built a week ago. Being guided on foot through clean and well-trodden paths between stone buildings like they were spies slipping through alleys, while a thousand feet away a highway overpass experienced the daily traffic jam, and one street over, a hundred people camped out on those same cramped streets, unable to afford housing. Alex had been told there was, out there somewhere in the city, a Burger King that had a panoramic view of the pyramids. That sounded fake, but then, she lived in a world of things that sounded made up, so who was she to talk? The newly minted diet paladin had stuck around for three days, with a growing concern in the back of her mind as what was supposed to be a simple favor escalated into exposing a corrupt landlord, preventing a kidnapping, navigating the city¡¯s esoteric property laws, and eventually establishing something that, legally, was not a renter¡¯s union. But was a renter¡¯s union. In the building that was technically now a protected cultural site, but since that didn¡¯t actually mean much in Cairo these days, was more realistically Alex¡¯s building, that she just so happened to not participate in the upkeep of, content to leave that to her ¡®tenants¡¯. It wasn¡¯t a drop in the bucket against the city¡¯s housing crisis, but it was what she¡¯d done anyway. ¡±This feels like cheating.¡± She had muttered to herself, sitting on the rooftop and looking out at the acacia trees and domed roofs of the city. She¡¯d then been poked by the friend of a friend, and reminded to stop defaulting to English and practice her Arabic. The girl, who went by Mahi, was pretty much the only one comfortable with Alex¡¯s habit of throwing magic around or using her growing authority to shrug off being repeatedly hit in the head, so she¡¯d been the one to actually be Alex¡¯s guide and point of contact for a lot of the other residents. The city was wrong. Alex could feel it, gnawing at the defenses her authority put up. The others weren¡¯t awkward about her magic, they were blind to it, in a way that was abjectly different than back home. She¡¯d filed a report about the geographical factor in the field effect, before she¡¯d been caught up doing a different favor for a different friend, filling in as a driver for an NGO that did deliveries of food and sanitary products to places where it wasn¡¯t profitable to ship normally. She¡¯d flown out on a wobbling tin can of an aircraft the next day, and ended up driving a truck as part of a convoy in Sudan. Twice, she¡¯d fixed bad road conditions on the down low with her magic. Once, she¡¯d far more overtly diverted a small landslide. But overall, it was pretty easy, with the exception of how much driving there was and how bad the road conditions were. Which, like¡­ okay yeah. She got that. It seemed like this place was having a hard time, and while Alex didn¡¯t know much of anything about the history of the region, she could easily see that the conditions were hurting people now. She put in her time, drove steady, and helped where she could. One night, she had nightmares that felt so vivid that Alex¡¯s training kicked in and she started lucidly pushing back on them. She¡¯d parted ways with the NGO at the next stop and stuck around for a couple days in the area, camping out and getting to know the sounds of the local wildlife while she tried to pin down if there was a dungeon around. Alex couldn¡¯t prove it, but she was pretty sure there was. Her laptop was running a couple emerald chip programs to try to find the things, but out here, in the middle of nowhere in a country that didn¡¯t keep as detailed records already, it wasn¡¯t likely they¡¯d turn up anything. So all she had was a feeling. A feeling, and nightmares that got worse each night she got closer on her hike back to the problem spot. One of the things James had emphasized to the three of them, when they were talking as paladins before they¡¯d set out, was that they needed to learn that they couldn¡¯t fix everything right away. They were meant to be impressive, but a paladin wasn¡¯t an unstoppable force of nature. And out here, by herself by her own choice, Alex felt very stoppable right now. So she¡¯d called it in. The scout groups were busy right now, because they were never not going to be busy it seemed, but Alex spent some of her precious saved internet connection to let the Order know the coordinates and situation. And then she¡¯d gotten the fuck out of there. Her next stop was back in the States, and the sudden contrast of feeling like she was on ¡®home turf¡¯ instantly made Alex self-conscious about the fact that she found other places ¡®weird¡¯. She found the US shitty a lot of the time, but at least she knew the texture of its negativity. But now, all she was thinking was that she just didn¡¯t have a wide enough range of experiences, and here she was poking around a college admissions office on the word of one guy who might just be a scorned boyfriend that was lying to her. At least the nightmares stopped though. For a bit. It came back a day later when Alex realized that - lying or not - the guy¡¯s girlfriend had vanished on him. Along with at least a few other people. And for some reason, the college seemed to have absolutely no idea it was happening. Now this was the kind of problem that she was good at. Unfortunately. Alex ran her thumb over the dull green collar she was wearing. Feeling the solidity of the authority she was bound with; she¡¯d started to get used to it, and felt like the manifest friend was a good reminder of what she was supposed to be working for. ¡±What do you think, mon ami?¡± She asked the creation that never really spoke back. ¡°You gonna keep me safe if we run into another different style of mind fuckery?¡± The authority vibrated slightly against her skin. It didn¡¯t understand the question exactly, but it knew it was being asked to be capable, and it knew that its bearer was operating well within her role. So it told her it would rise to the occasion. Alex nodded, giving her collar a pat. ¡±Alright. Let¡¯s go get into some trouble.¡± _____ ¡°Alright team.¡± Reed didn¡¯t look up from his notes at the team, because he didn¡¯t want to see two people and one pet standing at attention in a line, and one person apathetically not joining their antics. ¡°We¡¯ve got a list of volunteers set up, somehow, so today¡¯s testing day. John, do you have the package?¡± ¡±Yes boss!¡± The young man saluted, intentionally hitting himself in the face with the briefcase he was holding. ¡±¡­Okay. Amy, I know you reassured me several times, but Rom isn¡¯t going to eat anyone is he?¡± Reed¡¯s voice strained slightly. The veterinarian nudged the invisible cat standing next to her, miming a partial salute a few times before it remembered the trick it had been taught and made a similar gesture of raising a paw to its forehead. The motion only visible through the small projected illusion of a black cat on the floor, and mirrored in Amy as she saluted more properly. ¡°No boss!¡± She declared. ¡°Great. Good. This is a good idea.¡± Reed sighed. ¡°Bea, you¡­ actually Bea why are you here?¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡±I did not enjoy what I was doing.¡± The inhabitor said in her inhumanly flat voice, her face that on most people would have been called softly beautiful set into a stiffly stoic mask of apathy. Reed waited for an explanation before realizing that was a losing game. ¡°What were you doing?¡± He prompted. ¡±Nothing.¡± Bea answered. ¡±And so you just walked to the first group you saw and decided to help?¡± John asked with a teasing tone, lowering the briefcase from his face. ¡°Or¡­ well that is sorta what people do here?¡± With a sigh born of having done this routine a dozen times, Reed raised a hand between himself and the group. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± He said. ¡°Sometimes I would care. Today I do not care, an extra set of eyes could help, and we¡¯re short on people because we have too many projects going on. Welcome aboard. We¡¯re testing green orbs.¡± Not, as another team was feverishly at work on, making green orb totems. Nor on making green orb life, which was something that sounded like a terrible idea in general. Certainly not on absorbing a green orb. Those latter two were both potential vectors for the dungeon to directly control a person, and since no one was interested in being a test subject for ¡°can you be mind controlled¡±, they¡¯d opted to just¡­ not touch that for now. No, they were doing good old fashioned controlled variable tests just to see how much green orbs changed between the locations they were used at. Partly it was an extension of the attempt to map out all the ¡®problems¡¯ that blue orbs could solve. Those things were pretty finckey, but they were at least consistent about it. And if the problem they¡¯d normally fix wasn¡¯t available, they¡¯d default to the same thing every time. Which had sort of allowed Research, through perhaps excessive use of the copier ritual, to make a flowchart for some orbs. And those charts overlapped sometimes, which meant it was quite possibly all one big shared map. And they would love to know if green orb copies worked the same way. If they did, it would open the door to a whole new set of options for identifying the things before they had to make any duplicates at all. The Order already knew a lot about how green orbs functioned. Or at least, about the end effects. They knew that they were one of the magic types that was species-agnostic, even though the effects were very often human centric. They knew that the more physical space an orb changed, the weaker its effect got. They knew that you couldn¡¯t ever get them to work on vehicles, even big ones, though Nik still wanted to test it on an aircraft carrier and everyone else wanted Nik to stop wanting that. And they knew that the things had a pattern to what they looked for to modify, as many Office magics did. Building if there was one, room or division within the building if it was too large for a weaker orb to hit the whole thing. If there was no structure, then property lines were often used, followed by municipal qualities like roads or parks, followed by civic boundaries like city or county limits. Though often times orbs would run out of power well before getting that far, and just hit a smaller and more arbitrary zone. Today, they had eight copies of the same green orb, donated by a real asshole of a tumblefeed, and Reed had a list of places to test it to see what different effects it bestowed between properties. This was the first of this particular style of test, but it wouldn¡¯t be the last. Now that the Order was doing longer Office expeditions every month, the number of copy rituals available had gone way up, so this was something that was doable even with the larger orb sizes of most greens. Someone - one of the new recruits from the last round of hiring, probably - had already cracked one of them at the Lair, so Reed knew what it did here as the world¡¯s least pure baseline. [Local Area Shift : -6% Effort - Food Production] It came with four skill ranks in repairing water pumps, which was neat, and meant there were going to be more people who could do maintenance work on the baths, but wasn¡¯t super relevant to the testing. Reed had already confirmed with the kitchen staff that this rare percentage based effect did not make them lazier, but instead seemed to just slightly reduce the effort it took to cut vegetables or lift heavy pans into the oven. ¡±Okay.¡± Reed nodded at his group. ¡°We probably won¡¯t need to be doing any hunting for changes, but I appreciate you two coming along. Let¡¯s get moving, we¡¯ve got a bunch of places to hit.¡± He already had a telepad itinerary laid out. The first place was the office that surrounded Officium Mundi¡¯s entrance. Since the Order owned it, it seemed like a good spot for an early test, and it instantly proved Reed wrong as John cracked the first orb. [Local Area Shift : +2 Vending Machines] ¡±Why.¡± Reed said bluntly. ¡±Because this strain of magical object produces changes in line with western culture.¡± Bea answered in a way that was technically correct, but not really what he wanted to hear. ¡°Do we need to find the alterations?¡± ¡±Yes, please.¡± Reed nodded, at least grateful for the directness. ¡°Amy, you and Bea take the upper floors, John, you¡¯re with me, let¡¯s go check the loading dock and basement thing.¡± It took them about half an hour of asking the Recovery staff in the building to make sure they¡¯d found the right ones, but eventually they did locate the two new machines. They were stocked with perfectly ordinary food. Reed bought some chips and proclaimed them ¡®technically edible¡¯. Their second stop was the family home of a Response member who¡¯d offered up her house as a test site. She got to crack the orb herself, saying it would at least be her fault if she blew up her sister¡¯s sewing room. [Local Area Shift : -9% Effort - Food Production] A good result, same as before but a higher value. Reed noted down that it was evidence confirming the theory that smaller spaces got more focused magic, though the small increase compared to the difference in size made it seem like it was one of those things where each point increase cost exponentially more than the last. The next spot was an apartment. A normal one, not the Lair¡¯s apartments. Just a place that a couple humans, a camraconda, and a ratroach all lived; tethered to the Order in a way, but independent of all the activities and none of them delvers or anything. [Local Area Shift : -4% Effort - Food Production] ¡±Well that¡¯s just insulting.¡± John said as he used the orb. ¡°The building is smaller, why¡­¡± ¡°No it isn¡¯t.¡± Bea cut in. ¡°This structure is much larger than the house.¡± Reed looked between them. ¡±¡­Does anyone want to go ask the neighbors if we can test their kitchens?¡± He asked. It took Amy three tries before she found someone who would help them check, on the condition that they could pet the cat. They were only a little bothered by the fact that the cat didn¡¯t fit through the door, and was an unseen predator. The next two spots were public parks, both of which got the same result as Amy took her turn to use the orbs and become too good at practical hydraulic engineering. [Local Area Shift : -4 Meal Interruptions / Week] Impossible to test, much like the orb in effect at the Lair that prevented one lethal accident a year. How were you supposed to know if something didn¡¯t happen? Reed still noted each of the uses, and that the size of the park didn¡¯t seem to make a change even though one was a lot bigger than the other. The last three were weird, because they were neither public space, nor affiliated with the Order at all. And Reed¡­ was glad he¡¯d brought Amy and John, actually. Because talking to random people wasn¡¯t what he was good at anyway, much less when you were telling those people you were going to do magic to their building. Assuming they believed in magic. One was a bakery, where Amy made small talk with the owner while the others tried to find what they¡¯d added. [Local Area Shift : Production Capacity +1.2 M^3] It had been the oven. Bigger on the inside than it should be, and a change that had made the proprietor irate until she¡¯d had time to test it on a set of pastries and determined that despite the shift in volume, the evenness of heat distribution remained the same. ¡±But how does it¡­¡± she¡¯d tried to ask. ¡±It really is magic.¡± Amy had told her in a conciliatory tone. ¡°Thanks for helping us try this out though? Do you¡­ do you wanna pet a cat?¡± The next place was a pizzeria, where the owner definitely did not know what was going on, but Reed decided to take the hit to his ethical karma and use the orb anyway when the staff said it was okay. Two of them had previously had experiences with Response, and they were overtly willing to let Reed and his group do whatever the fuck they wanted to the building, up to and including dismantling it. Actually that might have been what they were hoping for; they seemed disappointed at the end change. [Local Area Shift : -6% Effort - Food Production] ¡±I have a complaint.¡± John said as they moved outside to teleport to the last place. ¡°How come this place, which has a giant oven for making food, doesn¡¯t get more oven space like the bakery?¡± ¡±A theory.¡± Bea said, staring off at the horizon. ¡°The orb line wants scones.¡± John frowned, trying to keep up his professional mood. ¡±¡­That¡­ no¡­?¡± ¡±Did you just make a joke?¡± Amy asked the other girl with a small smile. ¡±No.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± She deflated a little, leaning on Rom¡¯s invisible frame. ¡°Okay. Well, it¡¯s magic, so maybe it does want scones? Or it could be something about¡­ like¡­ the production of food? That¡¯s what it says, right boss?¡± ¡±I¡¯m begging you, just call me Reed.¡± Reed said, checking his notes. ¡°And yes, food production. Except when it¡¯s not.¡± ¡±Okay! So the kitchen at the Lair and the pizza place make food for people directly. But the bakery makes, like, batches. Maybe that¡¯s what it wants? I mean, want is a bad word. Do the orbs want things?¡± ¡±I think they want to give us headaches, insofar as they desire anything.¡± Reed opined. ¡°Alright, last place, which will actually help with this exact conversation.¡± The last place was a food processing facility that made, packaged, and shipped boxes of granola bars. It was a bizarre clash between the OSHA compliant factory machinery and the laissez faire, almost hippy-like personality of the guy in charge. He had agreed because his cousin was in Response and he thought this was some kind of Wiccan ritual, because his cousin had failed to explain what he meant by actual literal magic. Reed had been willing to take an ethical hit earlier, but with someone right here and actively misunderstanding, he took the time to explain exactly what they were doing and get real informed consent. The guy didn¡¯t really seem to be paying attention, but he still listened and nodded along, before shrugging and telling Reed that it couldn¡¯t hurt to try. So Bea had cracked the last orb, adding one more person to the list of people who could work on water features around the Lair, and gotten something that felt like what the orb did actually want the whole time. [Local Area Shift : Food Production - Machinery, +2160 Safe Iterations / Day] ¡±Holy shit.¡± Reed and John said at the same time, with different levels of frustration in their inflection. ¡±It does want scones, oh my god, Bea was right!¡± Amy offered the inhabitor a high five, which Bea just stared at long enough that Amy dropped her hand and let Rom paw at it as it sat by her side. ¡°But this is¡­ this is nuts, right? This is exactly what we wanted to know!¡± It was. Sort of. Reed was already in the process of making more work for Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s department, asking them to crunch the numbers on what would be better for a place like this, the upgrade they got or a percentage buff. He was also updating the rest of Research that had their own channel for green theories. Because this did feel like they¡¯d hit on something. Like they¡¯d been rewarded for finding what the orb did want. Less generic, and maybe more powerful as a result. As if all the other upgrades were the magic pushing uphill against what it was ¡®supposed¡¯ to do. It felt like an important discovery. It also felt like they were going to waste a lot more copy runs on green orbs just to learn a little more about this. Reed stopped composing a message on his skulljack mid-line, though, because he had to help Amy and the others get Rom¡¯s head out of an industrial canister of oat clusters. _____ Cheha stuck very, very close to TQ as they waited for the teleport to Townton. Her closest friend in the world was currently trying to learn how to hum, which was not going well, because camracondas just couldn¡¯t really do that. But it wasn¡¯t stopping him from making a series of grating chirps and trills. The distant city was the farthest she would ever be going from home, discounting when she went with TQ to the home of the people who had saved her life, to pretend to be someone else and roll dice to tell a story. That was fun, but it was also probably a shorter distance when she thought about it, because they used a telepad to get there, which was faster than this larger teleport bubble. She just didn¡¯t like being away from home. Didn¡¯t like feeling exposed, feeling lost, feeling afraid. Cheha was afraid almost all the time. She¡¯d been told that most ratroaches were, that it wasn¡¯t wrong and she shouldn¡¯t ever feel guilty for being scared. And that changed precisely nothing, because it was something she should feel guilt for. Every day proved, again and again, that no one in the Order was going to hurt her. Proved that her fear was just an echo of the cruelty that had been done to her. Proved that she didn¡¯t need it, and that it was holding her back. Cheha laid two trembling paws on TQ¡¯s head as he bobbed back and forth, and the camraconda stilled to let her do so. They had an arrangement; when she started panicking, she could use him as a stabilizer. Cheha had a problem with clawing at herself when she had anxiety attacks, which was half the reason she¡¯d removed the sharper claws when she¡¯d remade her body, but she had less trouble holding herself back from scratching anyone else. So this forced her to consider what she was doing, and let her calm down without needing to pick at her chitin. When the Order had begun to make a habit of collecting and researching shaper substance, she¡¯d been¡­ well, nothing. It had been in the dark times, when every day was painful even if it was less painful, when she¡¯d been more afraid, and had lashed out regularly. Knowing her newest owners had slightly more power didn¡¯t matter to her. Of course, then they¡¯d shared it. Openly, willingly. They¡¯d given to her so freely, brought her up to their level, asked for nothing in return. People had worked hard to be her friend, even when they shouldn¡¯t have, and other people had taught her things she needed to know in order to make her body even better. Cheha had still been afraid, though. So when it came time to fix herself, she¡¯d been¡­ restrained. Straighten the limbs, fortify the organs, smooth the chitin and skin, take away the pain. But that was all she did. She didn¡¯t even change her coloration like Smoke had, not trusting that she could do so without causing her fur to burn her when it grew out. So she was still a tortoiseshell pattern of black and tan. Her trio of eyes were still lopsided, with the dual optics on her left side making the world wobble slightly whenever she blinked, though her mind had gotten used to it so fast she never noticed anymore. She was still small, still fragile. Weaker than even most ratroaches, which meant almost any human could kill her if they wanted to. She didn¡¯t hate it - didn¡¯t even really think of it as something to hate - but it did leave her nervous most of the time. Except around Alanna, oddly. The human was¡­ she had once gently lifted Cheha up using her arm as a platform that the ratroach could stand on, and it hadn¡¯t even seemed to be that tiring to her. Alanna was dangerous to other humans. And yet all that strength was packed into the most confidently and direct kind person Cheha had met, even within the Order. Alanna had greeted her by promising not to use that strength against her. Cheha licked at her sharply angled muzzle, leaving a light coating of luminescent saliva on her lips as she tried to compose herself. ¡°Is it the teleporting that bothers you?¡± TQ asked, leaning his corded head into her paws. She shook her head in a flurry of motion. ¡°Being outside.¡± Cheha strained to make herself speak, and then as she found her voice, the words poured out. ¡°There¡¯s people and it¡¯s open and everyone can see me and I¡¯ve never been here and¡­ and¡­ and¡­¡± she broke off as a few of the others on the teleport platform started to look their way with worried glances. ¡°Sorry.¡± The ratroach finished with a small nervous noise. ¡±Oh. Okay.¡± TQ nodded under her touch. ¡°That is harder to solve. I was going to tell you the teleport finished while you were worrying if it was that.¡± The joke got a sharp squeak of laughter out of her, the surprise of her friend¡¯s humor tearing apart some of the anxiety. Cheha looked around and realized that they were already where they were going, people were already shifting cargo on and off the platform, and she¡¯d spent so long with her eyes pressed closed and her thoughts racing that the teleport had begun and ended without her seeing it. She had actually wanted to see it. She¡¯d have to force herself to be better on the way back. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± She told the camraconda. ¡°What now?¡± ¡±Now we procure dinner!¡± TQ wove back and forth, both to punctuate his words and to shift his armature pack into a more comfortable spot. ¡°And then we eat dinner, while enjoying the sunset. And then we find a different what then, when we run out of dinner.¡± They had no long term plan for the day, in other words. TQ just insisted that she not spend all of her time inside. And Cheha knew he was trying to be nice to her, but she liked being inside, because inside she could shut all the doors and make sure there was no one nearby, and the Lair even had a thing where you could have food brought to your apartment. Being outside was often a strict downgrade. But the camraconda seemed so sure that it wasn¡¯t good for her, and so Cheha was here in Townton, getting out of the way of the restored vehicles that were being driven onto the teleport platform, feeling the different road through the sandals on her curved feet as she followed TQ through the plaza. ¡±This used to be outside our used space.¡± TQ said as they moved, twisting his boxy camera head around to look at the scattered low buildings and wide street around them. ¡°Away from where people lived. Now people want to live around it.¡± ¡±¡­why?¡± Cheha asked, watching a group of humans and ratroaches working together with tools and magic to repair a building foundation into something stable and usable. The sound of a table saw made her flinch again, her whole body vibrating in momentary panic despite being able to see the source of the noise. ¡°It¡¯s so loud¡­¡± ¡±It won¡¯t always be loud like this.¡± TQ said simply, as if that explained everything. ¡°We will fix the places to live and work and play. Then the noise will be people living and working and playing, not¡­¡± he irised his lens shut for a moment as the table saw made itself known again, ¡°¡­that.¡± Cheha looked around at the people who were in the area, trying to sort it out on her own. All this space around where the teleport was placed. Maybe it was as simple as that; people wanted to get from the teleport to inside quicker. She would want that. And there was some kind of garage with several disassembled cars out front, too. Maybe they wanted to do their work and send it off without having to go farther, or without navigating a cluttered street. That made sense. ¡°Everyone wants to be inside.¡± She whispered, nodding as she figured it out. TQ gave her a tilt of his head, but didn¡¯t counter her statement, so Cheha decided she must be right. Except that probably wasn¡¯t true, since there were lots of people who all seemed fine outside. Mostly human, but there were others like her, and also a lot of the chanters. The chanters seemed to almost only want to be outside, which Cheha assumed was something wrong with their species in the same way that corrosive bodily secretions and an inability to be vegetarian was a defect with hers. There weren¡¯t many of them outside of the green swath that the more occupied buildings surrounded, but Cheha caught sight of a few clusters of them moving around across the open road. Their park was dotted with thick canvas tents that were all in the process of being overgrown by plant life, and there were so many tents spread out among the trees and lines of growth that it was now impossible to find a vantage point where you could see all of them that didn¡¯t involve getting on the roof of a building. She stayed very close to TQ as they got past the security posts and into the more populated city. The camraconda said it wasn¡¯t really a city anymore, but it was more people than Cheha had ever seen in one place. Dozens of humans and camracondas, hundreds of chanters, and a fair number of her own species too. The flicker of infomorphs either off on their own business or layered around the bodies of the people going about their business; navigators were common here where half the people that lived here were dedicated Route Horizon delvers. Even a couple necroads, though they were keeping a cautious distance from everyone else, and as far as Cheha knew, they didn¡¯t talk to anyone yet. There was ample shoulder room as they walked, there was no sense of overcrowding, but even with just thirty or forty people going about the daily tasks of getting food, running deliveries, or waiting at their posts at medical and aid tents in case a chanter needed something, it felt like there was an overwhelming amount of motion and noise. She kept her eyes closed for several steps at a time, and it was only after the third time she opened them to stay tethered to TQ that she realized he was leading them across the middle of a street intersection and past the pair of asphalt creations that were standing there and being given a circle of space by the other foot traffic. ¡°There is,¡± he was telling Cheha though she was having a hard time focusing as her heart rate increased, ¡°someone here who makes poutine. I do not know what that is, but James references it repeatedly, and I want to do research before¡­ oh, pardon us.¡± The camraconda spoke to the necroads like they weren¡¯t nothing but floating black rock claws, asphalt wrapped around ritual bone with no apparent sense organs or ways to communicate. Cheha fully expected one of them to attack them as they moved too close. But then¡­ the raised claw just spread its talons outward, splayed fingers held up to them as they passed unharmed. ¡°¡­before the next time he says anything. So I can commit an ambush. Would you like to try?¡± TQ continued like nothing was wrong. Cheha was only half listening. She had lagged behind, watching the creature that had waved at her. Slowly, she raised her bifurcated right arm, and waved back. When it dropped its floating claw back to a resting position, it was so fast that it made her flinch, but she thought it looked a little happier somehow. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± She told TQ. ¡°But I can eat anything.¡± ¡±That is technically correct, but not exactly correct. And I am talking about being silly, but in a way that surprises the humans in my life, who do not expect me to know specific things.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± Cheha thought about it. ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t have the humans. But I will help you eat something?¡± TQ¡¯s tail slid effortlessly across the pavement as he hissed to accompany his modulated digital voice. ¡±Excellent. I believe gravy is involved.¡± Cheah was still distracted by the sharp asphalt creatures they had passed, but even through that, she had the presence of mind to give TQ a level look. ¡°You¡­ you are confusing on purpose?¡± She realized. ¡°Because¡­ you want to be?¡± ¡±Why yes, thank you for noticing!¡± The camraconda answered cheerfully. They continued along, following the curve of the park and passing by a cluster of tables near a few food stands. Between the food, a kind of improvised market had begun to grow here. There were a few dedicated buildings that handled actual supplies, like stores that didn¡¯t take money, and that was where the Order warehoused daily necessities like toiletries. But out here, a few people had claimed small patches of street to set up stalls that held more esoteric goods. Salvaged material from the destroyed homes and buildings of the rest of the city that they were in the middle of the corpse of, mechanical or electrical components that were useful for many of the ongoing projects, and a few other things besides. There were still groups that went out into the destroyed city of Townton to clean up what they could, and part of that involved bringing back stuff that people might still want to be refurbished and put back to use, and while the Order didn¡¯t really use money for it, this was where a lot of that stuff got put on display for the residents. Cheha was pretty sure she¡¯d spotted the tent that they would be getting food at, because she could smell the gravy from a block away, and she wanted it so badly suddenly that she felt her mouth filling with glowing drool at the sudden promise of food. But as TQ kept up a healthy pace, taking them on a path that would take them past the central structure that the leadership worked out of, she also spotted something else that was definitely on an intercept course for them. She was doing a very good job of not panicking at the passing humans and ratroaches, even the ones that had run past from behind, clearly wanting to get where they were going faster. Cheha was getting better at knowing in her heart and not just her brain that people weren¡¯t coming after her personally. But the heavily injured human girl with wings that still gave her a ten foot wide profile even while they were folded was definitely striding directly at them. TQ also noticed, and brought part of his body upright, slowing his rapid slither a little as he faced her. ¡°Oh hello Camille. How are you?¡± He asked, ignoring the riot of bruises across her exposed face and arms. ¡±I am well. I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t¡­ know who you are.¡± Camille told TQ with a small twitch of one of her eyes. ¡°Recognizing camraconda coloration is a new skill I am learning.¡± ¡±Oh, we have not met.¡± TQ pitched his boxy head up to face her, tongue flicking over his fangs with amusement. ¡°This is Cheha, I am TQ. I have heard about you from James. Usually with a mixture of concern and profanity.¡± Cheha felt all conscious thought leave her as he said that. They were faced by something she could feel some kind of resonant and powerful threat from, and the small ratroach knew that this person could kill them both if she wanted to. And her dinner partner was antagonizing it. Why. ¡°Why?!¡± She heard someone say with a clicking squeak, and realized it was actually her. ¡±Likely because James is aware of me.¡± Camille answered her directly, seeming unoffended. ¡°Concern and profanity also seems to be how he approaches more situations than I think it is useful for, but I cannot gainsay his results.¡± TQ nodded along with her, the two of them musing over the paladin like they were old friends. ¡°Regardless.¡± Camille turned her piercing eyes onto Cheha, and the ratroach froze. ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked. That was a confusing thing to be asked. ¡±¡­no.¡± Cheha settled on answering. ¡±Oh.¡± Camille frowned, and then took a step back, shifting her shoulders to force her wings down toward the ground. ¡°I apologize, I make many of your people nervous. That was not my intent.¡± ¡±I¡­ I will¡­¡± Cheha didn¡¯t even know where to begin responding. Her gaze was fixed firmly on the ground, and she felt pointless panicked tears starting to form in her mammalian eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡­¡± ¡±No, you misunderstand. I am not offended. I sound like this all the time.¡± Camille¡¯s stern voice cut her off as a group of chanters skittered by on their spiked legs, a group of shells splitting into two groups and spilling around where they were having their conversation. ¡°I am asking if you are alright, because the necroads reacted to you, and while I am here, I am attempting to ensure that everyone is safe.¡± In a much quieter mumble, she added, ¡°It keeps me busy.¡± Cheha understood the sentence, but there was still a riot of anxiety spinning around in her chest that made her answer come out as a stammer. ¡°I-I-I¡­ w-waved at th-them¡­¡± she said, still staring at the ground. ¡±I saw. They didn¡¯t threaten you?¡± ¡±Nnnnno.¡± ¡±That is good then. I apologize for upsetting you, I will take my leave now.¡± Camille started to turn, pausing as she was facing over the low hedge of huckleberry bushes that lined the park here. She took a moment, seeming to chew over what she wanted to say. ¡°I am sorry. Really.¡± The words came out as a quiet murmur that was still easily heard against the backdrop of voices and buzzing insects. ¡°I have been scaring too many people down here today.¡± Something about it made Cheha deeply sorrowful. Talking still being a challenge she wasn¡¯t up to, she ran her smooth digits across TQ¡¯s head as Camille finished turning and made to leave. Getting the camracdona¡¯s attention and rapidly shaking her head at him, trying to enlist help in saying what she needed to. ¡±Oh!¡± TQ turned and called after the girl with the scaled wings. ¡°My friend wants to say it isn¡¯t your fault! She is nervous about being outside! Cheha is thankful you care about her.¡± He looked over at her for confirmation, and she gave him a quiet nod of thanks. Camille looked back over her shoulder, raising her eyebrows at him before seeing the ratroach trying her best to maintain eye contact. ¡°Regardless.¡± She said with a sigh. ¡°Well. If you have time later, please come by the command station. The necroads are not so openly friendly to everyone, and we are trying to find ways to communicate with them.¡± ¡±Is that why you¡¯re down here? I had thought you were meant to be staying in the basement at the Lair.¡± TQ asked. No animosity or veiled mockery in the words, just honest curiosity. The woman turned away with a small bark of laughter that sounded like it was unfamiliar to her. ¡°I was. No, I am here to monitor my¡­ to keep watch on another of my own kind, and make sure she does not escape when she wakes up.¡± ¡±Terrifying!¡± TQ happily said. ¡°We are here for poutine.¡± If Camille knew how to continue the conversation after that, she didn¡¯t try to do it. Instead, it seemed like she was as desperate to escape casual socialization and small talk as Cheha would have been, and she made a brisk exit before the camraconda could continue. Cheha didn¡¯t have anything to say, simply focusing on breathing and centering herself like she¡¯d been taught by the kind human woman who was her therapist. By the time she felt like she was actually participating in the world again, she was seated at a sanded park bench on the other side of TQ, who had taken up the entire board of his side for himself, with a cardboard basket of french fries in front of her. ¡±I do not know what I expected.¡± TQ admitted as one of his mechanical limbs carefully navigated a fork into his lunch. ¡°This appears to be correct though.¡± The smell of it was what had made Cheha snap back to paying attention to reality. She didn¡¯t bother with her fork, instead using her newly dexterous hands to scoop the heavy meat sauce up with the potato things, and taking bites that looked like they threatened to consume her fingers along with the food. It was, she was forced to admit, nice. For a few minutes, she wasn¡¯t exposed and vulnerable and scared. She was just outside, with a friend, eating gravy. And other things, yes, but mostly gravy. ¡±Sometimes I don¡¯t feel like I should have this.¡± She told TQ when there was a lull in their conversation. They¡¯d been talking about hobbies, the camraconda asking amused questions about her growing video game habit. So the shift in tone was abrupt, but it felt like something she needed to say. ¡±Why not?¡± TQ asked directly, tilting his head as he looked up from trying to winnow away the last of his meal with flicks of his tongue. Cheha looked down at her own eaten meal, the pleasant sensation starting to dull in her chest. ¡°I¡¯m not useful.¡± She settled on. ¡°I don¡¯t help. You give me food, and fun things to do, and clothes and stuff. And I don¡¯t help.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± The camraconda shifted, trying to turn on the picnic table¡¯s bench and nearly falling off. This thing wasn¡¯t built for his shape in any way. ¡°Are you supposed to?¡± He asked her. ¡±Oth-er people do.¡± ¡±That was not my question.¡± TQ hissed at her as he spoke. ¡°How old are you, Cheha?¡± She crossed all her arms at him. ¡°Th-that¡¯s a bad thing for you to ask.¡± She proclaimed. TQ¡¯s hiss turned from annoyed to surprised humor as he rolled his tongue out of his mouth and straightened his body up. And promptly did fall off the bench. As Cheha and a few other people eating lunch around them scrambled to their collective feet to make sure he was okay, his voice sounded from the ground, utterly unperturbed. ¡°Very good!¡± TQ told her as he rolled himself so his belly was against the ground, and rose up with an arch of his body. ¡°Oof.¡± He vocalized before continuing. ¡°Cheha,¡± camraconda digital voices couldn¡¯t pronounce her name properly, but she didn¡¯t mind, ¡°you are new.¡± ¡±Th-that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not useless.¡± She told him, realizing that TQ was slithering away and stopping herself from sitting back down to follow after him as he headed for the park itself and the rampant growth that filled it. ¡°I don¡¯t want everyone to think-!¡± ¡±Ah.¡± He cut her off. ¡°Yes. That.¡± The camraconda slithered up onto the dry grass, not heading directly for any of the chanters, but certainly getting the attention of some of them as he led the way to a dogwood tree that stood surrounded by a few tents and a collection of some kind of pepper plant. ¡°What others think.¡± ¡±Yes?¡± She was confused. ¡°If they don¡¯t want me¡­¡± It was a fairly obvious line of logic. TQ shook his head at her as the two of them took a slow stroll across the vital heart of the growing new city. ¡°Then they will still take care of you. We will take care of you.¡± He didn¡¯t look back at her as he spoke. ¡°Myself, I evaluate my worth by how much value I provide for others. Many people tell me this is unhealthy. James tells me this is unhealthy, which is a good joke, because I can tell he does the same thing.¡± TQ hissed another laugh as they circled under the tree, his camera head tilted upward to look into its branches for nothing in particular. ¡°But do you know what would happen if my value was zero?¡± Cheha didn¡¯t, and she shook her head slowly. ¡°N-nothing good¡­¡± she ventured. ¡±Nothing good. Nor anything bad.¡± TQ told her. ¡°Once the Order of Endless Rooms begins helping you, you may draw on that help for your entire life. Not unconditionally, but I have yet to find what the counter contiditions are, though I have not been trying very hard.¡± He paused to examine a green bulb of something that might be a fruit that was growing from a thick stalk of fuzzy green. It almost looked like he was planning to consume it with one wide chomp, but he stopped short and moved on. ¡°What do you think your value is?¡± He asked her. ¡±I don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡±Incorrect.¡± TQ told her bluntly. ¡°You have value in being someone that others enjoy the company of. You improve our games. That is value.¡± ¡±Not enough though.¡± She spat back, starting to get annoyed that he didn¡¯t understand. Her annoyance wasn¡¯t missed, but he continued unabated. ¡°And again, you are new. We are all new. But you more than many others, including me, yes. You have your whole life to learn what you wish to do to contribute. And we are all here to help you have the longest, fullest life you can.¡± ¡±What if I never find anything?¡± She asked with a terrified chitter. ¡°What if I waste¡­ everything?¡± ¡±Then that will happen.¡± TQ couldn¡¯t shrug, but he understood why humans liked the gesture so much. He considered unfolding his mechanical arms just to try, but it was a waste of battery life on the limited old pack he was wearing. ¡°But I suspect you will find something you want. Even I have found things I want, and I am very tired, all the time.¡± Cheha slumped slightly, tension easing out of her. ¡°¡®M tired too.¡± She admitted, staring at one of her paws before quietly and surreptitiously licking leftover gravy off it. ¡±Perhaps we can invent a new way of napping.¡± TQ offered. ¡°But there is no pressure. Except the pressure of exhaustion, I suppose.¡± He hissed a laugh. ¡°I have been saying ¡®I suppose¡¯ constantly. It makes people believe you have done strenuous research. This is a secret you can borrow.¡± Cheha couldn¡¯t stop herself from smiling with a glowing gap showing off her teeth. She didn¡¯t feel like she fully believed him. But TQ was somebody. He worked somewhere in the Order¡¯s hierarchy, and if he said that she was allowed to just¡­ figure things out? Maybe he wasn¡¯t lying. No one had lied to her so far, as near as she could tell. It would have been so easy for them to do so, too. Cheha had been waiting for it for a while. But every day, she was learning a bit more that made her hope that she was wrong. That her waiting would never pay off. Maybe she could wait to know what she should be doing, or what she wanted to be doing, instead. She didn¡¯t know what it was, or even if she wanted to do anything at all. Certainly not a delver, probably nothing with people. Maybe there really was nothing for her to help with at all. Maybe she didn¡¯t need to know right now, and that was okay. She realized she¡¯d fallen behind, and scampered to catch up to TQ, who was trying to have a conversation with a lone chanter that had crossed his path. Maybe her role could be keeping her friend out of trouble. That one seemed less likely than just getting by playing video games all day, though. Chapter 286 ¡°I know that¡¯s love. They didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d be or who I¡¯d be, but they loved me.¡± -Pioneer Nine, 20200- _____ The Lair didn¡¯t really have a good gym. There¡¯d used to be one, but then it got turned into a Response office, and then the walls around that spot got knocked down to expand the dining area, and the different gym that had been getting going in a basement got turned into a different Response office. And while there were parts of the basement that were gym-adjacent, rooms or open spaces used for yoga or kendo classes or other activities, there wasn¡¯t really a good gym. A few people were working on fixing that, but because they were only a few people, and a weird percentage of the Order¡¯s human population just had mundane gym memberships, the current gym was kinda small and still a work in progress. Alanna stood over a younger woman who was lying on her back on one of the three hard benches that populated the Lair¡¯s small gym. Short blond hair, a flat nose, and eyes that were practically a carbon copy of her own marked her weight training buddy as her younger sister. A relationship that Alanna was very happy to have back in her life, and one that in no way stopped her from doing her best to motivate the girl to push her body to its limit. ¡±Come on!¡± Alanna cried, a shark like grin on her face as she watched Erin¡¯s struggle. ¡°You¡¯re almost there! Last one, you can do it!¡± Her sister didn¡¯t reply out loud, though her almost frenzied look and teeth grit so hard that Alanna worried they might explode told a story of mild frustration. Perhaps directed at Alanna. Alanna fed on that irritation, her smile going strong as she resisted the urge to clap her hands. ¡°Just another inch! And I lied, one more! One more! There ya go! Fucking knew you could do it!¡± She cheered her younger sibling on as the girl forced the barbell onto the resting hook, her own hands holding it in place as Erin dropped her arms down like limp noodles. After catching her breath, a process that required more than a couple minutes of red faced panting, Erin allowed Alanna to help her up and took the offered water bottle. Sipping as she¡¯d been ordered, not gulping like she wanted, further stalled her verbal counterattack. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ going to¡­ kill you¡­¡± she said eventually, still breathing heavily. ¡±Oh, sure, there¡¯s probably a club for that you can join.¡± Alanna nodded in agreement. And that might even literally be true. She would, naturally, blame James for this, but Alanna had left a trail of destruction upon a lot of people who had gotten in their way, and she wasn¡¯t intending to stop now. So she wasn¡¯t offended. It was actually getting harder and harder for her to get offended without direct intent from someone, and that never worked well on her anyway. As her Empathy grew, and her ability to feel other people, though? Alanna was finding that almost every human masked a lot of complicated and strong emotions that they just didn¡¯t know if they were allowed to express. Like triumph, and satisfaction, and pride. The things radiating off of Erin like she was an open reactor. Alanna had found a lot of luck helping a few people as a physical trainer, and her sister was no exception, because she knew exactly how far they could be pushed. Better than they knew themselves, sometimes. And the burst of catharsis when Erin actually hit her goal, even when she didn¡¯t think she could a moment before? Perfect. Alanna wouldn¡¯t trade having her sisters back in her life for anything, and this was just icing on the cake. ¡°-not even close to you though.¡± Erin was saying as Alanna blinked the thought out of her mind and paid better attention. Spacing out was for her myriad boyfriends, not her. ¡±What? Sorry, spaced out there. What about me?¡± She passed Erin a hand towel, and knelt next to her bag to find the vial of exercise potion she had on her. Erin sighed as she wiped sweat off her neck. ¡°I said it¡¯s not as good as you!¡± She said, a hot burst of frustration and shame splashing against Alanna¡¯s senses. ¡°I can¡¯t do what you do, okay?¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t making fun of you, dumbass.¡± Alanna poked a finger into her sister¡¯s head. ¡°Course you can¡¯t lift as much as me. I¡¯m literally magic at picking things up. Also I¡¯ve been doing this for more than a decade more than you the hard way, and you¡¯ve been trying to put on muscle for a month. And we haven¡¯t even gotten to the easy way yet.¡± Her sister snorted at her, a copy of Alanna¡¯s favorite derisive little sound, and Alanna smirked. ¡°Also, first rule for working out? Don¡¯t worry about what anyone else is doing. Worry about what you¡¯re doing.¡± ¡±Uh, yeah, it¡¯s pretty easy to worry when you keep making it harder.¡± Erin shot back. ¡°Also what the hell, there¡¯s an easy way and you¡¯ve been having me do this instead?! This is bullying!¡± Alanna clapped her on the shoulder, carefully modulating the motion to make sure she didn¡¯t in some way harm her second favorite sister with one of her militarized body modifications. ¡°Bullying would be if I¡¯d made you do this. I doubt you¡¯ve forgotten that you asked me for-¡° ¡±Alright alright fine I¡¯m sorry.¡± Erin looked away sharply, voice empty. It wasn¡¯t an empty sentence to Alanna though. A wash of anxiety, bordering on fear, came off the younger version of herself. Repressed and hated, yeah, but still there. A childhood growing up with an abusive parent wasn¡¯t something you got to just shake off in a month. It was the kind of thing that made it easy for Alanna to understand why Erin and Rae both had easily picked up ratroach friends that they felt got them. Because they probably did. Alanna actually felt weird around teenagers these days. She wasn¡¯t so old she didn¡¯t remember the experience, but they flung emotions around with a lot of force, and her Empathy made it impossible to ignore the obvious ways they were experiencing things for the first time, or without support, or just for dumb reasons. So she could have let her sister look away and recover at her own pace, but Alanna had learned a lot about both how to get people to open up, and how she wanted the world to work. Which meant she was always going to speak up and not let the conversation die off there. ¡°I dunno if that apology was sarcasm, but you don¡¯t need it either way.¡± Alanna said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve been having you do this the hard way so you know how to do it on your own. And you¡¯ve been improving already, and you¡¯re fucking impressive, Erin.¡± She shifted to settle in next to the girl on the bench, bumping her shoulder into her sister¡¯s. ¡°Also cause Deb originally yelled at me and it took a while to make sure this would be safe for you.¡± She held out the flask to Erin. The teenager looked back and her eyes went from the thick glass over to Alanna¡¯s eyes, face showing the kind of scrunched up confusion that people got when they didn¡¯t actually know what something meant. ¡°Is this drugs?¡± She asked. ¡°I just wanted to be a little tougher, I don¡¯t need¡­ wait are you doing drugs? Is that why you¡¯re so ripped?¡± Alanna chuckled, exhaling amusement as she shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not giving you steroids or some shit Er. This is the exercise potion that we use for physical conditioning for responders and knights. It¡­ okay, how do your arms feel?¡± ¡±Like I want to die?¡± Erin rolled her eyes. ¡°Like I can¡¯t even make my fingers work?¡± ¡±Right. And how¡¯re you gonna feel tomorrow?¡± ¡±Sore?¡± Her sister rolled her eyes again, shaking her head back at her. Alanna didn¡¯t feel bad about it; she was glad just to have her sister here, and also to have someone else that was actually at eye level with her. ¡°Do you need me to explain how exercise works?¡± Alanna shoulder checked her again, getting a yelp of sore pain from Erin. ¡±I¡¯m doing this Socratic method thing where I ask you questions and then you have the answers in your head when they come up in a second!¡± Alanna explained a little more aggressively than needed. ¡°After the noodle arms and the sore muscles and the everything else, what then?¡± Erin paused. ¡±Then¡­ I mean, that¡¯s how you get stronger, right? Your body makes more muscles¡­ somehow? After a week or something?¡± ¡±Technically correct, the best kind of correct.¡± Alanna nodded as she stole a line from at least one of her lovers. ¡°And close enough. This,¡± she shook the vial of pale red liquid, ¡°in addition to tasting absolutely foul, will make your pathetic noodle arms do all that work, all that regrowing and improving, in about¡­ half an hour.¡± Alanna let out a steady breath, looking at the potion she was holding. ¡°This is three doses worth. So if you want, you can take a bit of this, and get right back to bench pressing with an extra two pounds on the bar, and then do it again.¡± Her sister¡¯s eyes widened as she stared at Alanna¡¯s offering. For at least a couple years now, her body had been everything she didn¡¯t want it to be. Strength training, conditioning, it wasn¡¯t really what she even wanted. It was just something to do with her sister, and it was something that was already making her feel less like a lanky and awkward mess. So maybe she did want it. But what she wanted more than that, more than even feeling comfortable in her own skin, was magic. The Order and the Lair were jam packed with magic and arcana, and some of it was casually part of daily life. But a lot of it was¡­ reserved. Held back. Not maliciously, but Erin wasn¡¯t allowed to just spend all day every day breaking orbs, and she wanted to. As an Order dependent, she got a stipend, and she was saving up to get something from what was available, but it wasn¡¯t the same as her sister just casually handing her a magical potion that would make her stronger. ¡±You¡¯re joking, right?¡± She said instead of taking the perfect gift. ¡±I mean, I could just be trying to get you to drink a blended melange of deodorant and wood shavings. Which would be funny!¡± Alanna jostled her sister again, and took one of her hands to place the vial in it. ¡°But I¡¯m not kidding. I can¡¯t say you can have as much as you want, cause we do use the special potion goo for a lot of stuff. But we¡¯re making a ton of it now, so, like, we can probably swing a little bit every week or so.¡± Erin took the vial, holding it up to her eyes and swirling the liquid inside. It looked like it had flakes in it, and the pale red color was¡­ kinda lame. ¡°Wait, what makes it red if it¡¯s¡­ what you said?¡± ¡±Food coloring.¡± Alanna answered with a respectful nod at the good question. ¡°It¡¯s a long and complicated story about iterative testing, but the short answer is food coloring.¡± ¡±So it looks like a health potion?¡± Erin nodded slowly. ¡°I guess it is-¡° ¡±No.¡± Alanna replied almost instantly, voice firm. ¡°It isn¡¯t. Er, I¡¯m gonna trust you with this stuff, but you need to know. You cannot drink this if you¡¯re hurt. It makes it worse. It doesn¡¯t matter that it¡¯s magic, it¡¯s not a health potion.¡± Her younger sister nodded quickly, face flickering through fear that she shoved away from her actual mood as quickly as it appeared. Alanna maybe should have been softer about telling her, but this was one thing that it was important to be very direct about. ¡°Sorry. I won¡¯t!¡± She was quick to promise. ¡±Erin.¡± Alanna ruffled her hair as she sighed. ¡°Stop apologizing. Everything¡¯s fine. Drink your potion.¡± The joy of a new magic overrode basically everything that wasn¡¯t excitement for a moment, and Erin gleefully uncapped it, asked for and got a reminder about how much to drink and how much a ¡®normal dose¡¯ was, and then took a swallow. And then nearly threw up. ¡°Oh, god! Oh urkh-¡° she gagged, feeling like she might throw up until Alanna hastily grabbed the water bottle and passed it over, this time with Erin gulping down every drop in the hope of purging the flavor. ¡°Why do you make it that way?!¡± She demanded. ¡±Well hey now, I don¡¯t make it. I¡­ I mean, I guess I could pick up some shifts in the potion zone, or whatever we¡¯ve decided to name that part of the basement. Some word that starts with R probably, since that seems to be our thing thanks to Momo. Reagent, maybe? Whatever.¡± Alanna stood, not having answered the question in any way, but feeling good about herself as she stretched her arms and twisted her torso, the tank top she was wearing clinging to her muscled frame. ¡°Hey! Wanna grab Rae and get some lunch? I wanna ask you two a million questions about stuff and make sure you¡¯re doing okay cause I¡¯m your older sister and I love you and shit.¡± ¡±¡­How in the fuck did you get multiple boyfriends when you say it that way?¡± Erin demanded. ¡±Would you believe I stole that from one of my many boyfriends?¡± Alanna grinned back, clicking her tongue conspiratorially. Erin let her shoulders sag as she sighed herself. ¡°I¡¯m tired though. I can¡¯t even stand uuuuup.¡± ¡±Oh, really?¡± Alanna asked, nudging her off the bench with the threat of ticking her sister¡¯s sides. A moment later Erin was on her feet, spinning around and ready to murder her older sister. And then her face lit up. ¡°Oh, shit, that worked fast! That¡¯s so cooooool. Can I have more?!¡± ¡±We¡¯ll see.¡± Alanna said. ¡°I¡¯ll clean up and put stuff away, you get your other sister. I¡¯ll meet you two upstairs! I wanna eat camraconda fruit salad.¡± ¡±¡­How is that different than normal fruit salad?¡± ¡±A camraconda made it.¡± Alanna didn¡¯t mention that she was magically better at tasting fruit, too, and that ¡®a kiwi¡¯ was kind of the best thing in the world now. Erin looked like she wanted to ask a million questions of her own, mostly about how that actually changed anything. Or if camracondas were exceptional chefs, maybe. They weren¡¯t! Alanna was acutely aware of how even the most proficient camraconda who worked in the kitchen, Knife-In-Fangs, was a better knight than he was a prep cook. But he was so excited about everything that it was hard to not let him work and learn on the job. Alanna watched her sister leave, her gait straightening out as the potion did its work and the burning in her muscles was replaced rapidly by the quiet rush of strength that came from proper exercise. Well. The word proper was in big old air quotes there. It was cheating to use the exercise potions like this. Alanna was constantly tempted to say ¡®just¡¯ for this, but it was, actually, literally what they were for. Making humans stronger, faster. A lot of her favorite magic came down to stuff that saved time. And since every day around here she ended up finding something new that she wanted to do, time was at a premium. Alanna wasn¡¯t much of a maximizer, in terms of personality, but she liked being active and she didn¡¯t want to miss stuff. She wasn¡¯t gonna do that thing that a few of the on-staff wizards were doing and make use of the extra fifteen minutes a day that the Lair added on for anyone studying just to slot in the ability to make a bad towel. Actually thinking about it, maybe she should do that. It¡¯d be handy for cleaning off gym equipment at least. But then she¡¯d be adding yet another thing to do that wasn¡¯t what she wanted. Alanna wanted to do so much, but she was starting to feel stretched thin with all the people in her life. James might be taking a few days away, but she still wanted to go on adventures with the guy. Anesh was always around, and it was dramatically unfair to him to not spend some time with at least one of his iterations. Sarah was a ray of pure sunshine in the world that Alanna wanted to be around more and more these days for a variety of reasons. Smoke-And-Ember was someone she enjoyed teaching to and learning from in turn, and also the guy was a fun part of a D&D game that included TQ and Cheha who were also people she wanted to spend time with in that casual social context. All of that was on top of Response, and delving, and training, and different briefings or classes, learning how to make blue imbued items, being part of the weird avatar practice sessions, and a dozen other things on top of that. And of course, her sisters. God, her sisters. They were legally Alanna¡¯s problem now, or at least, Rae was. Their mom hadn¡¯t put up a legal fight at all, which was fine. Fuck that narcissistic bitch. Alanna didn¡¯t typically sit around hoping people fell into pit traps, but she made an exception for their shared mother. If for no other reason than the fact that her Empathy went fucking haywire when presented with an actual narcissist. But now she had to figure out how to take care of a pair of teenagers and¡­ What was she even doing? Alanna was spending hours of every day at the apartment the girls were set up in. Getting them settled, helping with chores, helping them get used to things, just¡­ trying to make sure they were okay. And it didn¡¯t feel like enough. She wasn¡¯t a parent, not really. She didn¡¯t know what a fourteen year old needed. She knew what she¡¯d needed as a teenager, and it was space and someone to catch her when she fucked up, but she had needed to fight for every inch of space from her mother and the only people who ever helped were James and apparently Sarah. And she loved James, but James wasn¡¯t that fucking competent as a high schooler. So how did she do better? How could she be better? How did she let her dumbass kid sisters know that she loved them, that she didn¡¯t blame them for anything, that she was glad they were getting the chance to build a real life, that she was there for them if they needed her? ¡°Maybe I should just tell them.¡± She muttered. The grey and blue banded camraconda that she presently shared the gym space with looked up from where they were doing some kind of resistance training with their whole body, hissing a questioning sound in Alanna¡¯s direction. ¡±No, not you, sorry.¡± Alanna shook her thoughts loose. ¡°I¡¯m headin¡¯ out. You need anything? Before I go?¡± She asked, and got a negative hiss in reply. The camraconda seemed like they were doing fine, and the thing Alanna had never considered - the question of if camracondas could build muscle mass with their biology - would occupy her brain until she got upstairs to the dining area and found her sisters. They had a good lunch. Talked a lot about magic, and also about Rae going back to school when the summer ended. She tried to gently steer Erin away from being too voracious for magic just for the sake of having magic, and maybe succeeded . She also tried to make jokes that just got unimpressed stares from her siblings, but Alanna still laughed to her own humor, undeterred. And by the end of it, Alanna still didn¡¯t know what her place in their lives was, or what she was doing. But she was fucking trying, and she wasn¡¯t planning to stop. _____ Marlea hadn¡¯t really planned to form a cult. Legally speaking, she still hadn¡¯t. Practically speaking she also hadn¡¯t, she just looked kinda culty to some people. Some of those people were even people in the Order, but out of everyone on the fucking planet, they were the ones that should know better. And that showed up too, in the casual way that everyone from their chief paladin to the random guy who worked in Research kinda just took her existence at face value and didn¡¯t even think to hate her for it. What Marlea had done was, back when she was two different people, decided that she¡¯d rather not be either of those people anymore. The transition to permanent hive mind was¡­ not suicide exactly. Not suicide at all, in truth. But it was a way for both of them to escape being themselves. To get away from the anxiety, the trauma, the uncontrollable emotional outbursts, the loneliness, all of it. One of the first jokes Marlea had made when she¡¯d become her true form was that she was in the ultimate codependent relationship with herself. But so far, she hadn¡¯t let herself down, and every part of her life felt better this way. She learned faster, she thought cleaner, she dreamed bigger. She was both less, and more, than the sum of her parts. If both of her first two bodies had been determined and focused, then the two girls could have together matched or outperformed Marlea at individual things, but Marlea could outdo either of them at anything on their own, no matter how good they got. As individuals, she was a little more limited. As a whole, she was more. And she loved herself for it. Who she was and what she was becoming. The scariest part of her new existence had been when someone had actually believed her. Seen what she was going for, understood her dream for the future, and said ¡°yes, I want that too¡±. And now she had three forms. She kept the name Marlea though. For now. She was thinking of changing it, the thoughts shifting between different physical minds as she examined it from different angles. Whatever she settled on, she was sure that most of the people in her life would be okay with it. She lived at the Lair, for fuck¡¯s sake, so of course name changes were just a thing that happened sometimes to most of these people. Marlea had felt her life be upended a few times before. Both when she was lonely - deaths in the family, breakups, evictions, sexual assault - and when she was as she was now - mostly good stuff, but still a lot of moving around as the geometry of home changed, and seeing what new bullshit the dungeons could pull. She wasn¡¯t used to it, but¡­ Things changed. And she wasn¡¯t blind to how for everyone else around her, the damage of those changes - even the good ones - was mitigated by their community. She was part of that community. But she was also her own community, kinda, and so changes had really stopped being something she was afraid of. This was the lie she told herself, anyway. It was really hard to lie to yourself as a group mind. But Marlea still tried as she lingered around the entrance to a cafe, waiting for the person she was meeting. It was a ways away from the Lair, technically one city over though this whole place was just one big metro area. Marlea had a set of memories of moving through a rural area as a kid, after one of her grandparents died, and it felt a lot easier to call somewhere a ¡®different city¡¯ when you had to go through at least ten miles of nothing to get to it. Here, there was just a line between a Burger King and a Chevron, and you¡¯d gone somewhere else. A line that she¡¯d crossed for her meeting today, without even considering it, and that she was now thinking of way too hard as she tried to distract herself. Distracting herself was also harder when multiple minds could think different thoughts. Fortunately, her need for a distraction was cut off by the arrival of her¡­ interview subject? Date? Marlea had written academic essays on being a group mind, and she still fumbled over terminology sometimes. ¡±Hey! You made it!¡± Slipping into a friendly greeting let her throw all the trepidation into the trash. She¡¯d sort it out later. The woman approaching was younger than some of Marlea, a short black girl with her hair up in a poofy eruption that looked simultaneously cute and businesslike. Her name was Rhoda, and she¡¯d been with the Order for long enough to have accrued her own trauma, but she still stopped with her mouth hanging open as she tried to figure out what part of Marlea to reply to. ¡°Yeeeeah,¡± she eventually settled on with a shrug, ¡°I almost expected you to already have our drinks.¡± Marlea rolled her eyes, nodded, laughed, huffed, and said ¡°I¡¯m not psychic, I don¡¯t know how much pumpkin spice you want in your latte.¡± ¡±It¡¯s June.¡± ¡±I¡¯m not psychic, I don¡¯t know when they serve pumpkin spice.¡± Marlea replied in an identical tone. Rhoda pursed her lips, gnawing on the inside of her mouth with narrowed eyes, before she broke into a grin that made her angry eyes suddenly look alive. ¡°So, wanna get drinks and find a place to sit?¡± ¡±Sounds good!¡± The two of them moved all four bodies into the cafe, going through the awkward process of waiting in line and waiting for drinks while trying to make small talk but not really wanting to get too into anything. Soon enough, though, they had a table. Marlea once again experiencing a brand new problem, where her bodies were a bit like arms during a cuddle session; too many and too in the way. She settled on a small square table with one body on each side, which sorta felt like she was surrounding Rhoda, but there wasn¡¯t much to be done about it. ¡°So!¡± She said, blowing on her matcha. ¡°I have no idea how to do this!¡± ¡±Bullshit. Impossible.¡± Rhoda laughed as she stirred her coffee. ¡°I mean, I read your blog thing. You had a whole explanation of adding someone. Which would be¡­¡± she stretched the word out, eyes narrowing as she swept over the three parts of Marlea. ¡°Thhhhhhat one?¡± ¡±Nah, it¡¯s ¡®me¡¯.¡± One of Marlea spoke up before she moved back to a voice that wasn¡¯t occupied drinking. ¡°But yeah, fair. That was kind of a weird situation though.¡± She didn¡¯t explain further, and let her multiple perspectives keep the memory from hurting too much, which was perfect. ¡°Anyway.¡± She shrugged. ¡°You¡­ want to join my cult?¡± Rhoda nodded, a thin smile on her lips as she assumed Marlea was joking about the term. ¡°Kinda. I¡¯ve got questions, and it¡¯s probably not something I wanna dive into today, but¡­¡± she shrugged. Marlea nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve got questions too.¡± She said. ¡°A bunch of personality stuff, for obvious reasons. But also¡­ why. Why me, why this, why this instead of anything else, just the big Why. So, you wanna ask first, and get back to that later?¡± She swapped voices as she noticed Rhoda¡¯s hesitation from one of her angles. The other woman nodded, eager for the lifeline. ¡°Okay. What¡¯s it like? I mean, like I said, I read your stuff, but it¡¯s kinda technical, and not¡­ how does it feel?¡± ¡±Exactly like it used to, weirdly.¡± Marlea laughed as she spoke. ¡°I dunno where you are on the delver track, but, do you have any orbs or spells or whatever?¡± Rhoda gave a tilt of a nod as she sipped on her coffee. ¡°Well, it¡¯s sorta just like that. I¡¯ve got some party tricks, and I¡¯m different, but I still just feel like me.¡± ¡±Yeah, but come on. Your day to day has to be pretty different, right?¡± Rhoda pressed. Marlea gave a trio of shrugs. ¡°Sure, I guess. I mean, thinking is easier. None of me ever really felt smart, you know? So I don¡¯t feel smart. But I can tell that thinking about stuff is a lot smoother. Drawing conclusions, keeping information in my heads, that sorta thing. It makes me look a lot smarter from the outside, but it doesn¡¯t feel like it to me. Same thing with the therapy side of things! It¡¯s easier to get perspective on my damage, it¡¯s easier to remember without screaming, but it all feels the same. Just easier.¡± ¡±So you¡¯re a one-woman force multiplier for yourself?¡± Rhoda gave a huff of air, setting her coffee down and tipping the rim of the cup with an outstretched finger. Marlea quirked an eyebrow on the body that could actually do that. One of her sets of eyes watched a group of older men pass by their table, heading to join some friends for cards farther into the cafe, while another part of her considered the question. ¡°Weird way to put it maybe. But sure. I can do anything I used to, but all of me can do it, so I can help myself do it better.¡± ¡°Do you ever regret it?¡± Rhoda asked. ¡°I mean, if that¡¯s not super rude. I actually have no idea what is rude for a hive mind.¡± Marlea smiled at the attempt. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s whatever. I don¡¯t, either. On a technical level, every part of me has to disconnect when we¡¯re bathing cause the braids aren¡¯t waterproof enough yet. Now that I¡¯ve got three people in me, the collective mind never has to break fully, but the point is, it means that every part of me has a choice every day to come back or not. At the risk of sounding like something stupid, I¡¯m not like the other hive minds.¡± She intoned the last line with a saccharine tone from one of her other voices, before turning a question back on Rhoda. ¡°So, your turn. Why?¡± ¡±¡­it¡¯s sorta personal.¡± Rhoda looked down at her drink, already mostly gone. ¡±You¡¯re kinda asking to be inside me.¡± Marlea said, one of her bodies waggling its eyebrows at the mid-twenties guy walking by who had stumbled as he heard that line. ¡°Vulnerability isn¡¯t just a requirement, it¡¯s an absolute with me. May as well get started.¡± She shrugged again, like it was easy, because she was a lot better at lying to other people than herself. Rhoda took a breath, and then tipped the cup back to drain the rest of her coffee before thunking the hard cardboard edge back on the wood of the table. ¡°I nearly died last month.¡± She said bluntly. ¡°You know what I do at the Order?¡± ¡±Nope.¡± ¡±Shield team.¡± Rhoda pulled one of her short sleeves back, revealing a starburst white scar easily visible on her skin. ¡°It was that, or¡­ well, it was the best option. And I don¡¯t regret it!¡± She defiantly glared at Marlea as if challenging her to say otherwise. ¡°I don¡¯t. I really don¡¯t. I¡­ I¡¯m thinking of moving to Townton, to be around the chanters more. They didn¡¯t deserve any of what happened to them, and I¡¯m glad we did something, and I¡¯m glad I was more of a hero than I ever would have been otherwise in my life.¡± Rhoda¡¯s voice took on a tight tension as she continued. ¡°But I got shot doing it. Coulda been worse, coulda died, but it¡¯s¡­ all I can think about.¡± She turned, leaning her cheek on a balled fist as she watched the baristas bantering with customers and steaming milk. ¡°I need it to stop. I don¡¯t wanna die, but from the way you write about being you¡­¡± Rhoda sucked in air, turning back to Marlea. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s me. Too much information?¡± ¡±Nah, you¡¯re good. And I get it.¡± Marlea replied with a sad smile. ¡°So you think I¡¯ll fix all your problems?¡± ¡±I think I wake up sometimes wishing I were someone else. And you might literally let me do that.¡± Rhoda tried to make it a joke, but it came out sharp and harsh. Marlea leaned two different arms on the table as she asked more questions. ¡°You¡¯ve got options, if you wanna be someone else. You could get an assignment to mess with your memories, or donate your body with the weird table that swaps people around and go live as someone else for a while, or¡­ something else I bet. There¡¯s gotta be other options.¡± ¡±Sure. And if you say no, I¡¯ll find one of them.¡± Rhoda said honestly. ¡°You¡¯re my first choice, not my last. Hell, last choice isn¡¯t even that bad, it¡¯s just quitting the Order and spending all my time getting blitzed out of my mind so I forget my problems.¡± ¡±That¡¯s kinda bad, girl.¡± ¡°Wait, are you a puritanical hive mind? I finally live somewhere weed is legal, you can¡¯t make me stop now.¡± Marlea chuckled, as the question was the first one that seemed actually personal. ¡°Nah, fuck that. You should know that pot doesn¡¯t work quite the same with me, though.¡± She leaned back in unison, all three bodies pulling away, even as it felt like she was actually getting closer to the other girl. ¡°Alright. Rapid fire round. Favorite food.¡± ¡°Does that matter?¡± The response was paired with cocked eyebrows. ¡°Sorta! The more favorite foods I have, the more stuff I enjoy in general, and the feeling of liking new things suddenly is the most dungeon-y thing about me.¡± Rhoda nodded, leaning back as she stared up at the cafe ceiling. ¡°That¡¯s pretty cool. So I¡¯ll like pumpkin spice, huh?¡± ¡°Sort of! It¡¯s complicated! Next question, are you afraid of snakes or spiders?¡± ¡°...No? Why would that matter?¡± ¡°I¡¯m thinking of dating a camraconda, for one thing.¡± That brought a sudden halt to Rhoda¡¯s participation in the friendly banter. ¡°Ooooh. Huh. I hadn¡¯t really thought about how romance would work. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s weird, isn¡¯t it? Is that weird? Actually is it weird? Not just thinking out loud, but actually asking you.¡± Marlea laughed from two bodies. ¡°Of course it¡¯s weird. But it¡¯s also really, really simple too. Because I¡¯m just me, and you would be too. No scheduling issues, no second guessing someone else, just yourself.¡± She muttered the last part from a second mouth. ¡°Also this is related, and you kinda answered one of these already, when you mentioned the chanters, but I gotta make sure; you¡¯re not some weird racist are you?¡± ¡±Hope not. Are you?¡± Rhoda paused in her idle destruction of her cardboard coffee cup, looking up at one of Marlea¡¯s faces. ¡°Wait, actually are you? So far all your bodies are white chicks. Is that a thing?¡± ¡±Well, one of me is Navajo. Which¡­ shit, I never knew how tribal laws worked anyway, does that mean I¡¯m legally¡­? I¡¯m gonna look that up.¡± One of her bodies pulled out a phone and got to work googling while Marlea kept talking. ¡°But no, I¡­ I mean I don¡¯t know how I¡¯d feel about adding a guy to me, but no one¡¯s asked yet. It¡¯d probably be weird, but this is all weird. And I¡¯d be cool with a camraconda or ratroach, so compared to that, ¡®human but a different hue¡¯ is nothing.¡± ¡±Yeah, but there¡¯s cultural differences in ethnicities sometimes, right?¡± Rhoda shrugged. ¡°Not saying that¡¯s bad, but you¡¯re deep Order, you know? You¡¯ve probably got more in common with any camraconda than you do with nine out of ten other humans.¡± ¡±¡­That¡¯s¡­ a weird way to look at that. But kinda cool.¡± Marlea said. ¡°Also,¡± one of her bodies added, ¡°it turns out joining a hive mind might have removed my ability to call myself Navajo. So that¡¯s fucking weird.¡± She sighed. ¡°This is why I don¡¯t want you to be a weird racist. Everyone makes it fucking weird. You know what I offer? Complete equality, because there¡¯s no option for misunderstandings or biases about myself. Except for, like, the normal imposter syndrome stuff.¡± Rhoda barked out a laugh. ¡°That¡¯s not normal.¡± She insisted. ¡°Why do so many people in the Order think that¡¯s normal?¡± ¡±Not enough hive minds.¡± Marlea decided simply. ¡°Also I¡¯m barely ¡®deep Order¡¯, whatever that means. I¡¯m, like¡­ normal Order.¡± She shrugged with all three bodies. ¡°Anyway. Yeah. That¡¯s my answer. Yes.¡± ¡±Yes what?¡± ¡±Yes you can come join me.¡± Marlea said with a smile. ¡°If you want, I mean. Like, no pressure.¡± ¡±Just like that? You don¡¯t care what I have to offer or something? There isn¡¯t some kind of thing to make arrangements, or some weird ceremony?¡± Marlea threw her head back, offended. ¡°Who do you think I am, James? Nah, I¡¯m easier to work with, cause I¡¯m just one person. And if you do join up, then like I said with the dating bit, it¡¯s really easy to keep track of schedules and stuff. So ¡®we¡¯ would make arrangements and stuff. Oh, do you have family? Not a problem if you do, it¡¯s just not something I¡¯m dealing with right now, so that¡¯ll be different.¡± ¡±Yeah, I¡¯ve got parents. And brothers. Which is gonna be weird.¡± Rhoda scratched at her face as she thought about it. ¡°Or hilarious? Or both.¡± That was something Marlea could easily empathize with. ¡°Welcome to my life.¡± She said with a laugh. ¡°Literally, maybe!¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I do send money to them for my brother¡¯s school stuff. That was kinda why¡­¡± she made a hand motion that Marlea perfectly decyphered as saying this is the reason I thought being shot at was okay. ¡°No problem. You know how the¡­ actually you might not know this, shield teams work different don¡¯t they? Uh. For most of the Order, you get paid based on what you do. Minimum income for living, and then bonuses for jobs you pick up. Three bodies? Three¡­ well, I¡¯m not gonna lie, I¡¯m kinda lazy sometimes. But more than one job. Look stop staring at me! I¡¯m trying to explain how it¡¯s easy and we can take care of it!¡± Most of Marlea was blushing at this point, the kind of casual social embarrassment from stumbling over your words that she had thought she was going to leave behind forever. Rhoda just took it in stride though, which was impressive for someone who was kinda on the Order¡¯s outskirts. ¡°I guess¡­ I guess it sounds good.¡± She said, far away in her thoughts even though her voice was loudly present. ¡°So, when can we start? If I say yes?¡± It wasn¡¯t like she was planning to take this girl back to her apartment and rewire her brain right now. But Marlea had a good feeling about this. This had been a fun little chat, and the obvious interest, and parallel need that Rhoda had to give up part of herself without giving in to annihilation, that was something Marlea desperately understood and sought validation for. So they kept talking. Small talk coming easier now, as both of them got comfortable with each other. And maybe later, maybe soon later, Rhoda would take a break from being herself for a while, and Marlea would be a little more than she was now, and things could get a little better. Marlea was glad she¡¯d said yes to this coffee date. Even if it was kind of just the world¡¯s weirdest job interview, and she was pretty sure there was a group of college students on their laptops behind them that were paying more attention to her conversation than their own work. _____ Two Anesh watched as a camraconda went through a series of fitness tests. One of him was wearing a lab coat, because there was exactly one lab coat in Research and whoever got to it first got to wear it that day. This wasn¡¯t something that was done on purpose, it was just that they didn¡¯t want to order lab coats for a place where they just didn¡¯t need them, and only one had ever shown up. Anesh was the only persons who knew where it had come from, too; it was James. His boyfriend had just left it there one day when no one was watching, and when Anesh asked why, had replied by kissing him on the cheek and whispering ¡°Chaos.¡± Part of what they were testing was if the lab coat was magic. It didn¡¯t seem to be. Most of what they were doing was keeping a record of authority growth, lined up to subject interviews and as many trackable metrics as they could for if someone was ¡®doing their job¡¯. There were a few other things to mess around with today, but that was the main one. Frequency-Of-Sunlight would have been a terrible test subject if they were trying to get a baseline reading for something. The yellow and red corded girl had a Sewer lesson that she had up to the fourth class, having picked Solidity I and Malleability II and seeing no issues in the two things contradicting slightly. She also had about twenty purple orbs, being one of the first camracondas to help with extensive testing of those on her species, and while a lot of them were small, she did have reflexes about fifty percent faster than any other camraconda, and the ability to digest lead. Malleability seemed to let purples work with more strength than they did for anyone else, too. She was already a camraconda, so it wasn¡¯t like there was a ¡®standard¡¯ anyway. But Sunny made it more complex than even that, was the point. So it was good that they were measuring her against herself and not using her as a statistic. ¡±Okay. Not bad.¡± Anesh nodded in unison as he marked off the result of her ¡®lift¡¯ strength. ¡°Any change in authority behavior? Have you noticed influence on you, or more active attempts at conversation or development from them?¡± Sunny flicked the tip of her tail as she set down the weight she was carrying, her mouth being full not stopping her from speaking with her digital tone. ¡°Nope!¡± She tried to hiss on reflex and found herself blocked until she dropped the testing barbell. ¡°Simon says they¡¯re like dogs, but I¡¯ve only met three or four dogs so far, and all of them are more energetic. Mostly they just do what I say and make me fashionable.¡± ¡±¡­They, the dogs?¡± ¡±They the authority!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight arched her neck to give both Anesh a haughty look. ¡°You are supposed to be the smart one!¡± Anesh laughed it off, because while she was right, and he was the smart one, he also wasn¡¯t linguistics smart. Unless you counted French, but even then, only barely. ¡°Last thing left is a pierce test, if you think you¡¯re game for it this time.¡± He headed over to the counter where the sterile low gauge needle was waiting, and made to pick it up. This one was of a special design, with a pressure sensor built in for exactly this one test. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Frequency-Of-Sunlight was, in fact, not up for it. ¡°Needles are evil!¡± She proclaimed, whipping away from Anesh to use the treadmill she¡¯d been slithering on as cover. ¡°You¡¯re evil! And I can prove it!¡± Anesh glanced at himself, the two of him waiting patiently. ¡±¡­Alright?¡± He eventually asked. The camraconda narrowed her lens at him. ¡°Alright what?¡± ¡±I mean, if you¡¯ve got proof, you can present it?¡± Anesh said with a shrug as he split off from himself to go double check the testing list and file the report for the day. ¡°We don¡¯t need to stab you, it¡¯s just the easiest way to see if your authority is making you tougher.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight spoke the word with her artificial voice while relaxing a little bit. ¡°Well I don¡¯t wanna be stabbed. But Deb would be mad at me if I said no, even if she wouldn¡¯t say anything. So I guess you can stab me.¡± She let out a despairing hiss that stretched on for long enough that Anesh started to first wonder when she was going to run out of breath, and then started to silently chuckle as it just kept going until eventually Sunny sputtered to a stop and gasped in a breath. ¡±Okay. Unfocused first, then focused if we need it.¡± Anesh said, rolling a wheeled stool over and sitting in it as his counterpart got Sunny to sit still. ¡°Ready?¡± He asked. ¡±No and I changed my mind and I hate this again!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight declared. Anesh sighed and rolled back. ¡°Sunny, if you don¡¯t want to do the test, just say so. We don¡¯t need to do this every time.¡± ¡±¡­Deb is nicer when she stabs me¡­¡± Sunny hadn¡¯t exactly figured out mumbling with her digital speech, but she could mimic the effect well enough with volume control and by turning to face away from her conversational opposition. Unfortunately that just left her facing a different Anesh, who was also folding his arms at her. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll stop. Do the thing. But then I¡¯ll complain after.¡± With an exasperated sigh, Anesh rolled back forward, his extra set of hands helping to keep part of Sunny¡¯s cables in place as he started the test device recording and slowly began to press it against one of her cords, just like if he were drawing blood. A thing that he knew how to do now, which was strange to consider, since he¡¯d never set foot in any kind of medical school. The needle did not want to go in, and Anesh had to apply progressively more force until Frequency-Of-Sunlight let out a pained hiss that escalated to a chiming scream at the moment the needle punched through her outer layer. She tried to stay still, but her body still writhed enough that Anesh rapidly plucked back the testing tool, and let her calm down, before placing a bandage over the puncture wound to keep it sterile. ¡±Okay. Good news.¡± He said as one of him entered the result in the test log. ¡°And bad news. Which one do you want first?¡± ¡±If the bad news is that you¡¯re going to stab me again, I¡¯m going to eat one of you as an example to the others.¡± Sunny declared. Anesh looked at her with a slow blink, his brain trying to sort out the sentence he¡¯d never encountered before but felt like something that he¡¯d definitely heard from James at some point. ¡°No?¡± He settled on. ¡°Don¡¯t do that. Also the good news is we don¡¯t need to do the secondary test. The bad news is that it¡¯s because the majority of your metrics are steady. You¡¯re still above where you were at the start, but as far as the authority boost goes, it seems like it¡¯s starting to taper off.¡± ¡±Aaw.¡± Sunny hissed as she raised herself up to talk, and let the pale green scarf that was her authority¡¯s manifestation float in nonexistent wind as it trailed off both sides of her neck. ¡°Complaining would be dumb, but I wanna do it anyway. What a stupid emotion.¡± ¡±I know exactly what you mean.¡± Anesh confided in her. ¡°But it makes sense. You¡¯re still filling your role as a knight, and the increases we can track from when you started being consistently on shift are still there, but you¡¯re not doing anything new, right? Or¡­ you probably are doing new stuff, but your position is the same. And the Order itself hasn¡¯t seen any rise in organizational power. So your authority is doing their best, but they¡¯re gated on advancement for now.¡± ¡±Poor Oreo.¡± Sunny shook her head, the scarf fluttering behind her. ¡°This isn¡¯t bad for her, is it?¡± The camraconda asked. ¡±Oh, absolutely not.¡± Anesh held up a hand to cut that thought off. ¡°She¡­ Oreo?¡± ¡±Oreo! Like the cookie! I wanted to call her Hydrox but Deb said no one would get that.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t get it now.¡± ¡±Well an Oreo is a snack cookie with two wafers around a kind of cream that-¡° Anesh buried both his faces in his hands. ¡±I¡¯m really starting to get why James says talking to camracondas is like having a light conversation in an active minefield.¡± ¡±Thank you!¡± Sunny preened, knowing full well what she was doing. ¡±Well anyhow.¡± Anesh desperately tried to salvage the conversation and end the test session. ¡°Oreo is going to be fine, and so are you. As far as we know, authorities stabilize over time, so if you¡¯re a knight for a decade or two, then when you move on you might need to pass her off to someone else because she won¡¯t be able to grow with you. But there¡¯s no health problems. And even if your ¡®rank¡¯ stays the same, if the Order gets a little lift overall, Oreo will feel it.¡± ¡±Oh! So not a problem then?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight nodded, tilting her head to let the scarf flutter against her head. ¡°A decade. Hah!¡± It was always fun when camracondas pronounced laughs as words. ¡°You mean forever. That¡¯s so many years, no one has time to worry about that.¡± Anesh didn¡¯t want to give a camraconda an existential crisis today. He got enough of that with James. And with fifty percent of the trauma he was dating away for a work vacation, and Keeka much less interested in being gloomy about the future, Anesh was having an excellent time also not worrying about things a decade away. ¡°And now you don¡¯t have to worry about it at all.¡± He told his test subject. ¡°Now get out of here. I know you have things to do, and so do I. Thanks for the check in, and sorry the needle hurt so much.¡± ¡±Why did it hurt so much?¡± She asked as she left. ¡±Oh.¡± Anesh¡¯s mouth curved up in a small grin. ¡°You¡¯re a lot harder to stab than you should be. So you might not get pierced, but your nerves still feel it.¡± ¡±Cool!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight gave a camraconda grin. ¡°That¡¯s so neat! Bodies are neat. I¡¯m glad I have one. Anyway bye!¡± She tugged the sliding door of the exam room open and slithered away. From down the hall, Anesh could hear a cheerful ¡°Hey Deb! You¡¯re cute in the doctor outfit!¡± Before he slid the door closed. ¡±Alright.¡± He said to himself. ¡°That was the last authority test today, right?¡± ¡±Just so. And now we can get back to¡­ what?¡± Anesh packed up everything they¡¯d been using, including properly disposing of the needles while saving the incredibly expensive pressure sensor part of the device. ¡±Well, whatever we want. We¡¯re free agents today. Space elevator?¡± ¡±The thing about the space elevator¡­¡± ¡±¡­is that they¡¯ve got it in hand well enough, but there¡¯s no plan for after?¡± ¡±Exactly, you get me.¡± Anesh nodded to himself. The two of him had been having their thoughts as a conversation all day, and it was¡­ refreshing. It was so easy, but also so useful for sorting things out and giving himself a sense of perspective. And since he was waiting on better Lesson identification so he could actually get one that gave Perspective, this was a pretty good alternative for now. In a way, it was scary. He and himself hadn¡¯t plugged their brains together for a few days now, even though both of him were wearing skulljacks right now and could do it at any time. But it was also just¡­ so relaxing. Freeing. He didn¡¯t need to be a single entity. Didn¡¯t need to stress about being the ¡®right¡¯ Anesh. He just needed to live his life, and he had some people around who were perfect for helping him do that, for the same reason he was perfect for helping them. He¡¯d still share his other selves¡¯ minds for important stuff though. And there was nothing wrong with syncing up when they felt like it. Also some things were just fun to do as a shared entity. Like Keeka. Anesh hadn¡¯t really realized quite where he fell on the bisexuality chart before. He still didn¡¯t really know, but he probably should have started thinking about it when he first started dating James, not now after he started dating yet another boy. But whatever he was, it turned out, it was gayer than he¡¯d thought of himself as. And it turned out he kinda liked it. He also really, really liked Keeka. The lithe black furred ratroach was so earnestly eager about everything; he¡¯d been forced to live a life of horror and pain for so long, but instead of letting that destroy him, he¡¯d decided to embrace the potential of a new world without any of that bollocks. It was hard to be too serious around him. It was also, Anesh had found, impossible to escape from one particular thing Keeka was passionately earnest about, which was having a lot of sex. Which Anesh often did as two or three of himself, to the delight of his boyfriend. ¡±Sorry, did you say something?¡± He asked himself, looking down from the medical room¡¯s ceiling and shaking his head. His other version did the same thing. ¡°No, sorry, what were we talking about?¡± ¡±¡­Keeka.¡± Anesh said. ¡±Well, we weren¡¯t talking about that. But¡­¡± he nodded knowingly at himself, the two Anesh sharing a moment between themselves that was a bizarre emotional blend of socially guarded and perfectly intimate. ¡°So no space elevator.¡± ¡°We could look into the weird beans? I still want to know what happens if you plant one in one of the cactus pots.¡± Anesh saw himself open his mouth and sighed preemptively. ¡°Succulent pots. Bloody hell I¡¯m pedantic.¡± ¡±You sure are.¡± He told himself as the two of them made their way into the well lit hallway, nodding politely to the medical staff who were hard at work at the main hub as they left the branch of the Lair. ¡°Also I just checked on the server while you were correcting yourself. The beans grow through the pot. And also a larger pot John blue infused that was supposed to grow a bigger version of the thing, though no one remembered planting them there.¡± ¡±Those things seem¡­ dangerous.¡± A polite way of saying that they seemed like if the end of the world didn¡¯t arrive on schedule, then the Order could always kickstart it with an ecological collapse that would make any other apocalypse jealous. ¡±We¡¯ve hired two botanists, a farmer, and have contact with an invasive species expert.¡± Anesh both raised their eyebrows as one of him read off the ongoing status of that project. ¡°Huh. I mean, I know the beans seem dangerous¡­¡± ¡±But we did both eat that burrito, and it didn¡¯t murder anyone.¡± Anesh scratched at his cheek and the stubble of a beard growing in that he needed to either take care of or commit to. ¡°Well, James¡¯ stomach didn¡¯t survive.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t understand why he eats hot sauce, ever.¡± ¡±He is painfully Caucasian sometimes.¡± Anesh agreed with himself. ¡°Still love him.¡± Anesh smiled casually, relaxed around himself because he knew there was exactly no judgment even possible in the conversation. ¡°We really do.¡± He said. ¡°What about poking around with the maybe-magic from the Climb? We are sort of the safest people to play with Breath.¡± ¡±I like that plan.¡± Anesh nodded, the two of them diverting course to head toward storage and check out what they¡¯d need. ¡°Wait.¡± He said, both Anesh sighing with exasperation as they simultaneously checked the local network. There was already someone working on it. In fact, a familiar someone. ¡±Well, at least we won¡¯t have to argue about anything with ourself.¡± Anesh settled on. ¡±You want me to find something else to occupy myself? I know I can clutter up a room.¡± ¡±Feh. Imagine me saying that.¡± Anesh told himself, realizing how stupid it was to be that kind of self sacrificing for no actual reason, even as his other copy said it. ¡°Come on. Maybe we actually break one of the things and find out the Climb drops blue orbs too.¡± Anesh let out a long breath as they went to find their third counterpart. ¡°Have we not suffered enough confusion around here?¡± ¡±No.¡± The two of them said at the same time, though for slightly different reasons. _____ Sarah¡¯s job at the Order was the kind of thing that would make her an absolutely terrible candidate for an authority, but an excellent example of the ideal citizen of James¡¯ hypothetical utopia. Or maybe she would be perfect for an authority, if her particular style of activity ever got assigned a title in the same way that ¡®knight¡¯ did. On paper, Sarah had a few part time jobs. She was one of the Attic caretakers, she ran a few support groups for a few reasons, and she was the hostess of a podcast. Simple stuff, if you stopped there. Sarah, of course, was never going to be the kind of person who stopped there. Sarah had an endless well of energy for other people, and found personal delight in exploring both friendships and magic in equal measure. So yes, she was one of the people who watched over Clutter Ascent. She was, in fact, one of four people, alongside a therapist, a teacher, and a child psychologist, who specialized in trying to learn how to provide a healthy environment for a new dungeon to grow up in. Her name was on the Order¡¯s academic reports on dungeon development, on the biology of Clutter Ascent life, and on the exploration reports every time the dungeon grew. And she spent a significant portion of her life helping to raise the first full ¡®generation¡¯ of stuff animals as they grew into their sophancy. And yes, she hosted some support groups. Two different ones were originally for survivors of Officium Mundi, which were dwindling these days as many of those people felt ready to move on. Those groups had shifted over time to include survivors of other dungeon events, and she¡¯d added one specific different group for the young people who¡¯d lived through the Akashic Sewer. One for victims of sexual assault, which was actually unaffiliated with the Order in particular, and which Sarah had just sort of fallen into taking responsiblity for. And two other groups for the nonhuman members of the Order, focused on working to support them as they learned about the world. Most of them weren¡¯t weekly, or she¡¯d never have had time for anything else. And sure, she ran the first podcast the Order had started making. Not by herself; these days she had two really smart girls helping her out with audio processing and production. And a team of three other people who helped collate news, and arrange interviews. But Sarah still did a lot of her own research for it, and she was proud of how many people found it useful. She didn¡¯t actually care that a lot of them downloaded impressions of it from other people through the skulljacks. That was actually super cool. She had just never expected to be the first major source of meta-culture the Order produced. The thing was, on paper, Sarah did those things. And that paper didn¡¯t account for just how present she was in the Order¡¯s community. She tried to know everyone, even if only a little. She made herself available to bring problems to, she had a nice room in the space where there was a fractal door that led to all the therapist¡¯s offices, she did favors freely and worked with Recovery and met almost every new survivor stolen from a dungeon that came through. People knew who Sarah was. And not just because they heard her voice in their headphones talking about new discoveries and developments. They knew because she was woven into so many lives, and she showed up for everything she could. And, thanks to some magic in her apartment, she wasn¡¯t even tired that often! Also thanks to some magic in her. She¡¯d progressed both of her Sewer Lessons this month, though it would be a while before either leveled again thanks to the way that dungeon punished stacking its magic. Her two Lessons - sex ed, and art - now gave her three levels of Health, and one level of Survivability. Art had been a weird spread of choices when she¡¯d progressed that for the first time, but Sarah didn¡¯t actually think she¡¯d need either Strength, or Desire. She had plenty of both, especially when Alanna was around. Health didn¡¯t actually make her not have to sleep. Neither did Survivability. But both of them did sort of let her not sleep enough, and then suffer no consequences except feeling like a listless heap for a couple hours. ¡°Hey solnyshko.¡± A voice prodded Sarah¡¯s brain into motion, her eyes sliding open with an easy transition as she pulled her head off her arm. Melody, her production assistant and good friend, stood over the recording desk alongside another woman, looking down at her without any real worry. ¡°You look like a listless heap. Should we take a break?¡± ¡±I¡¯m awake! I¡¯m alive! I¡¯m indefatigable!¡± Sarah declared, smoothly bringing herself upright and off her desk. Today¡¯s job, which Sarah was absolutely awake for, was recording one of those episodes to keep people informed about the goings on around here, and it really was her favorite thing to do. Not that everything else wasn¡¯t her favorite thing, but if she had to pick one, just for fun¡­ it would be this. Though it would probably make her an even worse authority candidate. ¡±I swear chica, you hear your boyfriend say words and then I have to hear them for the next month.¡± Melody shook her head, her growing habit of pulling small affectations from the half dozen languages she was filling her head with as she pursued her own side project making Sarah smile. Sarah¡¯s smile was still in place as she cracked her spine and every joint in her fingers. ¡°James isn¡¯t my boyfriend, he¡¯s my¡­ I dunno, eternal life partner? What¡¯s the term for when two people are always there for each other and connected by a bond that not even a memory-eating dungeon could truly destroy?¡± ¡±¡­boyfriend.¡± Melody stared at her incredulously. ¡°Or, like, husband? Are you two married?¡± ¡±Oh, no no no! That wouldn¡¯t be fair.¡± Sarah shook her head, punching her fists into the air over her head. ¡°Look, I¡¯m fine! I¡¯m bantering! Let¡¯s get set up and start recording before Bea gets bored!¡± She neatly clipped off the conversation as she motioned to the inhabitor who had been silently observing the conversation with a blank face, only the slightest hint of curiosity showing through the cracks. Bea didn¡¯t bother to insist that she couldn¡¯t get bored. Instead she sat patiently with Sarah while they got everything ready for the day¡¯s recording session, listening with silent focus as Sarah outlined what they¡¯d be going over. By the time they started the show, Sarah wasn¡¯t waking up or shaking off the fuzz in her brain. She was in one of her many elements, and happy to participate. ¡±¡­And today, we have with us, Bea!¡± Sarah¡¯s casual cheer after she¡¯d gone through the show¡¯s intro and opening outline for the audience seeped into her words and her guest as she waved a hand across the desk. ¡°Say hello Bea!¡± ¡±Hello.¡± Bea said before falling silent, the inhabitor solemnly refusing to accept the bait and say her own name. ¡±Now some of you may remember Bea from the last time she was on the show with Rho, and we talked a bit about the inhabitor life experience. But Bea, go ahead and remind everyone who you are just in case!¡± The inhabitor leaned forward with a stiff motion toward her microphone. ¡°My name remains Bea. I am an alchemical life form occupying the body of a human young adult, or an inhabitor which is easier to say.¡± Her voice was, even now, mostly emotionless. But inhabitors weren¡¯t unemotional, they were just new to the experience, and there was no pressure for them to rush it. ¡°Recently I have been working with the Research projects for both alchemical production, and blue orb infusion. The latter is what I am here to speak about today.¡± ¡±Nice! And today you¡¯re here to talk¡­ wait you stole my introduction!¡± Sarah gave an unoffended giggle. ¡±Mine was more efficient.¡± Bea informed her. ¡°I could begin stealing other points on the episode agenda if it would help.¡± Sarah let out a contemplative hum. ¡°Maybe.¡± She mused. ¡°But then Melody wouldn¡¯t have anything to do when I go off on tangents! If anyone needs that special skill of yours, it¡¯s Davis and John on the Research technical podcast.¡± ¡±I am aware.¡± Bea said, the tiniest hint of annoyance speaking volumes about how she really felt. ¡°But. My schedule isn¡¯t open for a new task of that size.¡± ¡±We will mourn what could have been a lovely cohost partnership.¡± Sarah promised. ¡°But as for what your schedule is filled with, yes! We¡¯re here today to talk about the creation process for magic items! Specifically, the philosophy and mindset that goes into making something, in your personal experience. So, how about we get started with that big question then! How, Ms. Bea, do you make a magic item?¡± The inhabitor gave a quick nod that was more like a sharp jolt of her head as she started to answer right away. ¡°The technical method is simple. Apply a mixture of blue and yellow orbs from Officium Mundi to a mundane object, and tell it what to do. Though the yellow orbs can come from the Ceaseless Stacks, that part is unimportant.¡± ¡±Ooh, didn¡¯t know that!¡± Sarah raised her eyebrows. ¡°Though I was thinking more about the details of the ¡®tell it what to do¡¯ part. Care to elaborate?¡± ¡±Of course.¡± Bea sat still as she answered, having found the proper posture for the mic. ¡°My own method is to focus on establishing a specific thing that the new dungeontech object will not or can not do.¡± She paused briefly. ¡°I know that my¡­ circumstances and view of life make my ability to create dungeontech inflexible. But it is not a one sided exchange. My approach provides consistent results, and I am usually faster than most other imbuers.¡± Sarah followed most of that, but she chose to focus on some parts to elaborate for anyone listening. ¡°Now, when you say ¡®will not do¡¯, I know you don¡¯t mean you¡¯re giving things like shirts and pens an anxiety complex, but what are you doing?¡± ¡±A basic example would be an object that does not break, or does not run out.¡± Bea answered. ¡°These are simple rules, which are simple to conceptualize during the process. And the blue orbs enjoy saying no.¡± ¡±Oooh! Elaborate on that!¡± Sarah lit up. Bea¡¯s chin tipped up ever so slightly in acknowledgement. ¡°An unbreaking item would be something like a pencil that reforms itself when damaged, or paper that does not rip. This form of-¡° ¡±No no¡­ well, yes, those too in a second, but what do you mean the orbs enjoy saying no? That sounds fascinating!¡± Something about Sarah¡¯s unbridled enthusiasm resonated with Bea, and the inhabitor found herself in a small way excited to answer the person who was actively interested in what she had to say. ¡°Both of the two primary philosophies of blue imbuement focus on the idea that the blue orbs either enjoy, or are inclined toward, denial in some way. I do not think they experience emotion, this is linguist abbreviation for a tendency toward a process. While others focus on the aspect of this that generates frustration, my own approach instead sees it as a form of creation through exclusion. Cutting away options, to produce something new.¡± Sarah nodded eagerly as she listened. ¡°Okay, so, you¡¯re not trying to make dungeontech that actively does something new, you¡¯re trying to create effects through¡­ oh how to say it¡­ through turning off certain interactions with the world?¡± ¡±That is an apt way to describe the process.¡± Bea said, a thread of lively engagement coloring her voice. ¡°I¡¯m ineffective at the more creative parts of the process. But I find there is a good deal of use for selective ignorance of physics in various materials.¡± ¡±You could go far with that, right? We¡¯ve seen dungeon-made items that float or even fly. I know Momers has an entire back to school special worth of pencils that float around her head all the time. But if you start applying things like antigravity to specific stuff¡­?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Bea nodded, now fully invested in the conversation. ¡°Gravity is one of my preferred mediums. The engineering team was interested in using my work for the construction of an orbital platform. That was not a good idea, though, as blue imbued objects do still suffer from what Reed calls the ¡®single hit point rule¡¯. And ignoring that rule is typically the extent of what an item can do, if that is the path you take.¡± Sarah mouthed words as she tried to sort that out to translate for anyone in the audience who hadn¡¯t gotten it. ¡°So¡­ if you make something that won¡¯t break, that¡¯s¡­ all it does?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± ¡±Still useful! We could do so much with that! Eliminating waste by making clothing or furniture that never goes to a landfill? Preservation of art or other historical relics? And I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got ideas on top of what I¡¯m pulling out here.¡± Bea¡¯s mouth twitched into a nearly sad flicker of a grin. ¡±No.¡± She said. ¡°I don¡¯t. That is a problem I have. I¡­ extrapolate. I am very good at extrapolating. But I struggle to consider consequences in the way you just did. That form of thinking requires masking, which I have ceased entirely.¡± Masking was the term that inhabitors used to describe tapping into their victim¡¯s memories and personality. Putting on the mask of the person they had killed to be created. It wasn¡¯t something they could do halfway, which meant that the creations, who all felt guilt and shame for their existence in the first place, had almost completely forsworn it in favor of forcing their personal development the hard way. Sarah didn¡¯t dwell on that, instead deflecting into a theme that she enjoyed echoing on her show in subtle ways. ¡°Well that¡¯s one of the benefits of working with everyone else, right? We can fill in each other¡¯s gaps. I know I can¡¯t get blue imbuement to work at all. So I¡¯ll be the idea girl and you can build me a bookshelf I¡¯ll never need to replace!¡± ¡±That makes sense. You are very additive.¡± Bea said simply. ¡±I¡­ do not know¡­¡± Sarah pursed her lips and looked over at where Melody was at the recording desk headbutting the surface as she tried to keep her laughter in. ¡°I think that¡¯s good. I choose to believe that is good!¡± She let out a warm laugh. ¡°So, tell us about the two competing theories a bit!¡± Bea titled her head by a single degree, a deliberate blink indicating disapproval of Sarah¡¯s missing the point. ¡°Our philosophies are not in contest. They are different ways of seeing the same thing, and different approaches that work better for different people.¡± She established quickly. ¡±Oh, I apologize! I was sort of joking, but I should have made that more clear, and also I guess I don¡¯t want to make it sound like there¡¯s some kind of Research rivalry going on!¡± Sarah was a big fan of openly apologizing on the show. She felt it set a good precedent for everyone who listened. Let them know it was okay. ¡°How about ¡®how do the approaches contrast¡¯?¡± ¡±A better phrasing.¡± Bea accepted the apology without saying it directly, to save time. ¡°As I said, my own process is one of exclusion. Removing an option. The other method is to create imbued items through frustration.¡± ¡±Ooooof¡­ the person making the item?¡± ¡±No, that is a byproduct.¡± Bea¡¯s lips tipped upward in the smallest smile as she intentionally made her first joke on air. And Sarah absolutely noticed, beaming back at her with a radiant grin as Bea continued. ¡°The frustration is for the end user. Additional effects, changes to the world that are active and additive, they are easiest to create when the process is driven by a mental image that includes a variety of if-then statements. Ones that add conditional restrictions and complications are best.¡± Sarah tapped her nose as she made an understanding hum. ¡°James told me about this a while back. He said the blues wanted people to think like a dungeon master.¡± ¡±I am familiar with the sentiment.¡± Bea replied. ¡°The difference between approaches is less a difference and more a matter of style. Someone could do both, with proper planning. I simply prefer my way. Keeping a series of contrary and obtuse rules in my thoughts as I attempt to focus is challenging and unpleasant.¡± ¡±You should come to board game night sometime.¡± Sarah offered casually. ¡±Will I be required to keep a series of contrary and obtuse rules in my thoughts?¡± Bea asked, suspecting she knew the answer. Sarah tapped her fingertips together in a light clap. ¡°That depends on who picks the game!¡± She said. ¡°So, before we wrap the interview up and I let you go, let me ask! Anything big in the works? No need for the deeper technical part, I know you¡¯ll be on with John and Davis on their side to talk about the hard science of it, but I¡¯m curious if there¡¯s anything fun coming out of the basements in the near future!¡± ¡±Several things. Momo has managed to recreate her personal defense pencil effect on a kitchen knife, with a series of conditional statements, and those will be put into use perhaps even later tonight. I have created a shirt that reacts negatively to kinetic energy, and while the effect makes compressing it challenging, we will be making several copies for use as delver and responder armor. Testing has so far failed on imbuing a Sewer book, but we are not discouraged. And there is, of course, an ongoing debate on whether or not to attempt to imbue the leveler crown, which will be settled by vote in one week¡¯s time.¡± ¡±Oh I wanna continue the interview so bad now!¡± Sarah laughed. ¡°What do you think would happen if you imbued a Lesson book?¡± She asked. Bea tapped one finger on the desk, the impacts oddly hard and sharp. ¡°Predicting that is something I have trouble with. I never would have assumed that we could imbue dungeontech items, since the blue orbs do not compound on their own. But after the leveler items accepted the process in their own way¡­ I would guess that the effect on an Akashic Sewer book would depend on your approach.¡± ¡±If you¡¯re being exclusionary, then you¡¯d get a book that¡­ what, wouldn¡¯t dissolve? And if you¡¯re being additive, you get a book that maybe adds extra options?¡± Sarah mused. ¡±All potentials, yes.¡± Bea said. ¡°Though I would request of Melody that everything you just said be censored in the final edit to prevent idea contamination. It has been an ongoing problem.¡± At the recording desk, Melody shot Bea a thumbs up and a long, satisfied nod. ¡°Wait, no!¡± Sarah started to protest. ¡°My ideas!¡± ¡±And now I must leave.¡± Bea announced. ¡°As I am busy, and have a social engagement to observe a snake. This concludes our interview. Thank you to Sarah for this opportunity to share.¡± ¡±Everyone in this building is trying to steal my jooooooob!¡± Sarah bemoaned as Bea gave her a small pat on the head, before leaving with her mostly emotionless efficiency. This was, partly, why she wasn¡¯t a good authority candidate. Because she actually did enjoy it when people stole her job, and people did it all the time. Sarah moved from role to role, leaving a trail in her wake of people who she had made a little place for and left them with. After that, there was still more to do. The news, the community updates, the important bits of shared culture and developing mini government, the new information about the chanters, all of it stuff that Sarah delighted in sharing. From new camracondas picking their names to old survivors hosting barbecues, she just loved sharing this world with these people. And afterward, she was absolutely going to head down to Research to see what the boop they were doing with making flying knives. That seemed like the sort of thing she should maybe intervene on before it got out of hand. _____ ¡°Are we ready for our guest?¡± Karen asked Smoke as she and Texture-Of-Barkdust moved off the elevator and into the Order¡¯s Los Angeles office. Cathy looked up from where she was leaning over Smoke¡¯s desk and trying to help the purple furred ratroach girl with something on her computer. The plump woman showing a degree of flexibility and smooth motion that she¡¯d only recently reacquired, and was still reveling in. ¡°Good afternoon you two.¡± She said with a heavy smile. ¡±You have the meeting room.¡± Smoke whispered. She could speak now. She didn¡¯t even hate it. But she was still getting used to everything about having a working voice, and she still had to fight the instinct that making too much noise would get her hurt. ¡°And¡­ and we told everyone to hide.¡± She added, still in a hushed wisp of a voice that nonetheless was gratifying for the others to hear her use without pain or problem. Cathy pressed her lips together to hold back a small laugh. ¡°No dear, we told everyone to be professional today.¡± ¡±We are ever professional in this office.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust stated with a small inclination of her head. Karen said nothing, because Texture-Of-Barkdust had a warped view of what counted as professional, tainted by the fact that many people in the Order showed up to budget meetings or security briefings in graphic tee shirts and shorts. Camracondas actually had a significant edge over humans, not having the social background that required specific fashion. Texture-Of-Barkdust could have walked into a meeting ¡®nude¡¯ and no one would question it. Though she didn¡¯t. She was wearing a slate grey cloak-like wrap at the moment, which Karen had helped her put on before they¡¯d come in for their meeting. It made her look stern, with her mostly blue and green cables showing underneath in a way that accentuated her differences from a human. Karen herself had gone for one of her more colorful outfits, which meant a dark red blouse and a black jacket with matching pants. It didn¡¯t make her look stern; she didn¡¯t need help from her wardrobe for that. The two women moved to the conference room that the Order mostly used for interviews these days. The space wasn¡¯t exactly dedicated to it, but it was open often enough, and the people who worked in this part of the spatial anomaly that was the Lair tended to not need it for their own meetings. It was also an excellent place for an interview. A nice big window with lots of natural light, a high view of a winding freeway and the surrounding skyline, a table that was large enough to be comfortable for several people without feeling like it isolated anyone on the other side of the room. Right now, the table had a camraconda basket seat near it already set up, as well as two small stacks of printed pages on it. One was some documentation for reference, the other was a contract, both of them were for the man they were going to interview because Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust had the files loaded in their skulljack already. The skulljacks didn¡¯t actually provide a lot of conveniences on their own, but with the help of programs loaded into the braids that were more properly made to be interfaced with by a mind and not a mouse, the Order had gotten them to work for a few specific things. And being able to read .pdfs was one of those. To the two women waiting for their interview subject to arrive, it was arguable the most important thing. Karen knew that real time vision sharing and tactical communications were vitally important for knights when it came to life or death situations yes. But she¡¯d really come around on the vision of a perfect future when it had been pointed out that mass adoption of skulljacks would mean no one would ever have to battle with copier settings again. ¡°Are you prepared yourself?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked Karen as they stood by their seats, waiting for their guest and not wanting to sit now just to get up in a moment. ¡°This is¡­ larger.¡± ¡±Is it?¡± Karen asked, arching her eyebrows as she double checked their printouts, thumbing through pages with an idle precision. ¡°Larger than becoming the primary supplier of platinum for an entire continent? Larger than a nonhuman woman making business deals?¡± She glanced over at Texture-Of-Barkdust, who was currently watching the skyline through the wall of windows. ¡°I suppose it is. But do you know what has me nervous?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust hissed lightly at her, turning to slither a line back and forth across the window in her own version of pacing. ¡±Yes. Because we spoke about it.¡± She said. ¡°You are concerned for your daughter¡¯s future. Because Elizebeth¡¯s potential schooling change is more personal than altering the nature of global civil existence.¡± Karen smiled sadly. ¡°You know, when I was with my husband¡­¡± she paused. ¡°Ex-husband, now, presumably. I could talk for an hour about what was bothering me, and by the next day, he¡¯d be confused if I brought it up. Not maliciously, but¡­¡± she shook her head, sighing lightly as she watched Texture-Of-Barkdust. ¡°And you casually remember conversations that we had three nights ago.¡± ¡±Yes. I am very powerful.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said as she continued her back and forth path. ¡°And Elizebeth is important.¡± ¡±She is.¡± Karen exhaled until her lungs ached. ¡°She¡¯s all I have left.¡± She said in a quiet voice that she wasn¡¯t intending to be heard. ¡±Untrue.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust answered anyway, the camraconda making use of a recent purple orb that greatly extended her hearing range. Now that it was known that they were safe for her people, she¡¯d been happy to test several copies for records of camraconda differences. ¡°You have your place within the Order. And even without that, you have me.¡± It was said so casually that Karen¡¯s mind almost skipped over the words like they were just part of a casual conversation. Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s voice was the same as it always was; polite, crisp, with no hint of nervous energy that Karen knew could show through even the digital voice profiles most camracondas used. But what she had said wasn¡¯t¡­ impersonal. Wasn¡¯t some abstract gesture of community. And Karen suddenly wasn¡¯t sure what to say. For the first time in a very long time, she felt lost in a conversation, for several reasons, though not least of which was that she had no idea what Texture-Of-Barkdust meant by that. If nothing else, camracondas tended toward a coy sense of humor, and Karen didn¡¯t know if there was a world that existed where she¡¯d be prepared to deal with the sudden flutter in her chest if it weren¡¯t a joke. She was saved and interrupted in equal measure as Cathy pushed the glass door of the conference room open, stepping through and holding it for the gentleman following her. ¡°Right through here. Can I get you anything to drink?¡± She asked the newcomer. ¡±Thank you, no.¡± He said in slightly stiff English, looking a little lost himself. A common reaction for newcomers when they had to get past Smoke¡¯s desk and were confronted with the implications of a world deeper than they¡¯d ever known. Inoue Shohei was a grey haired Japanese man, with lines on his cheeks from decades of late nights and stress that almost made him look like an aging cat. He was only just over forty years old, but Karen got a sense of someone who felt much older. Cathy nodded to Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust, before quietly slipping out and leaving them alone with their potential hire. Karen made the first move, stepping forward as Texture-Of-Barkdust left her spot by the window and approached at her side. Forgoing offering a handshake, Karen instead gave a short bow, which Texture-Of-Barkdust mimicked next to her with less precise posture. ¡°Good afternoon Mr. Inoue.¡± She spoke in Japanese. ¡°If it¡¯s more comfortable for you, we can use this instead of English.¡± ¡±I would appreciate it, thank you.¡± He said, returning the bow to her, but looking with slight confusion at Texture-Of-Barkdust, like he was uncertain if he was having a practical joke played on him. ¡°May I ask¡­¡± Karen nodded, looking down at her partner. ¡±My name is Karen Ward, this is my associate, Texture-Of-Barkdust.¡± ¡±A pleasure to meet you.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust spoke up, her digital voice containing no indication that she was offended. ¡°If you would like, we can get the basics out of the way preemptively.¡± The green-blue camraconda didn¡¯t wait for him to accept before she started to answer. ¡°I am a living creature, I am roughly as intelligent as a human being - though I believe we all know that could mean a wide range of things - I am from Earth though perhaps not in a way you would be familiar with, and the proper form of address would be my full name, or Ms. Barkdust if you wish to shorten it.¡± Shohei nodded slowly as he carefully filed away each piece of information. Then he offered her the same short bow that he had to Karen. ¡°Thank you, Ms. Barkdust.¡± He said simply. ¡°I apologize for any offense.¡± ¡±We - and by we I mean our organization, not my species - tend toward the belief that no one should be punished for lacking information. You are, so far, the most polite human to learn about my existence and quickly react.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust nodded in satisfaction, before turning toward the table. ¡°Shall we sit, and we can begin our interview?¡± The three of them took seats, with Texture-Of-Barkdust somehow managing to make pulling her heavy form up onto a basket seat look professionally elegant. ¡°Your Japanese is quite good. Have you spent time in my country?¡± Shohei asked the both of them as he took his own seat on the other side of the table. Karen shook her head. ¡°We haven¡¯t, though thank you. We have an accelerated way of learning languages that is quite effective.¡± The man across from her looked like he desperately wanted to know about that, but Karen just gave him a small smile as she folded her hands in front of her. ¡°Now, Mr. Inoue, I¡¯m sure you have questions about our offer.¡± ¡±Several.¡± He said as she gave him pause to speak. ¡°The salary you offer was impressive enough to get me here, but the specifics were thin.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust hissed softly, which got a small flinch from the man who didn¡¯t know the mannerism. ¡±Well. We would like you to take the role of global operations manager for a new form of transport company.¡± ¡±A new form of transport?¡± He zeroed in on the specific word instantly. Karen nodded as she flipped through her reference documents, finding the ones she needed and pulling them out to spread on the table in front of the man. ¡°Since someone needs to be direct here, I suppose it¡¯s my job. Our organization has access to teleportation technology, which we plan to use to supplant most global shipping.¡± She looked up at Shohei as the man¡¯s face went ashen. ¡°Our timeline is currently long enough that I don¡¯t think it would be considered insider trading for you to divest yourself of your current employer¡¯s stock at this time.¡± She added. ¡±Of course, the technology is not enough to be successful.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust picked up where Karen left off, only getting a short glance from the man who was now running his eyes across each page as he took in the numbers, dimensions, testing results, and safety specs. He was adapting quickly, but being told teleporters were real was a harsh wall to get over. ¡°We need professionals, and more importantly, professionals with industry contacts, to help us smoothly begin operations.¡± ¡±Why me.¡± He croaked out as Karen added a series of neatly printed sheets detailing their operational goals. ¡°Why¡­ with this, you could go to any government on the planet, and name your terms. Assuming this is real.¡± He said the last part with a wince. ¡°We have a demonstration set up for afterward, yes.¡± Karen said politely. ¡°Which we can show you before you sign on, obviously. As for avoiding government support¡­ they would want to use it as governments. Similar to if we sold to another company. National interest, profit, that¡¯s not what we aim for Mr. Inoue. Our goal is to make things better.¡± She glanced at Texture-Of-Barkdust, who took over. ¡±Twenty two years as a senior global logistics manager at Akamoto Shipping. Studied at Cambridge, where you were respected. Many of your classmates remember you, though you haven¡¯t kept in touch.¡± She ignored the puzzled look the man gave her. ¡°No family to speak of, which is a statistically prevalent trend in our membership for some reason, but that is neither here nor there. Three years with a Tokyo branch of the Yakuza which you separated yourself from on moderate terms as soon as you had earned enough to pay for your studies. Your companions who remember you also speak well of you.¡± ¡±How?!¡± Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust ignored the outburst and the man shoving himself back from the table to bolt to his feet. ¡°Sit down please Mr. Inoue.¡± Karen spoke sternly, frowning at the man. ¡°Why you? Because you are in a position you do not enjoy, with skills that are useful. Do you enjoy your job?¡± He stared at her in silence for almost two whole minutes before slowly lowering himself back into his chair and answering. ¡°No, I do not. But very few people who earn as much as I do enjoy their work.¡± ¡±Hm. You are wasted.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said flatly. ¡°You are an expert, and an adaptive problem solver, who is in a position that requires neither of those traits simply because it is ¡®important¡¯. Your actual tasks could be done by someone with half your experience. But it isn¡¯t, because money is at risk.¡± ¡±Of course. Seniority has its rewards, though if I make a mistake, it also means that who to blame is clearly known.¡± Inoue said slowly. ¡°But you are correct that my duties are not especially complicated. Large in scope, yes, but my staff often go weeks without needing my approval.¡± ¡±And wouldn¡¯t you rather do something more? Reach a little farther? Solve a problem so novel that no one has ever touched it before?¡± Karen asked, suddenly unsure if she was asking him, or herself. ¡°You say why you, but you aren¡¯t our first interview, and if you say no, you won¡¯t be our last. You aren¡¯t a chosen one; we don¡¯t do that around here.¡± ¡±Well.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust started to interrupt, an unprofessional comment slipping past. ¡°Your daughter- Karen set a hand on the warm metal of the camraconda¡¯s head and silenced her. ¡°You are a perfect candidate because you fit the role, have the skills, and you are dissatisfied where you are now. I cannot, obviously, promise you fewer long nights, but I can promise you Mr. Inoue that you won¡¯t feel like you are wasted.¡± The man set the papers down in a neat pile, meeting Karen¡¯s eyes and Texture-Of-Barkdust¡¯s lens in turn as he stared at them. ¡°And my past?¡± ¡±Be better than you were.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said with a dry tone to her artificial voice. ¡°Though you should know that offering second chances to people who have hurt others is something we do here.¡± It was unclear if she was speaking about his life as a criminal, or as a salaryman, or if she saw a distinction between the two at all. ¡°Also this is less relevant to the interview process.¡± Karen checked her internal notes. ¡°I am confident that, on paper, you are someone we wish to hire for this. However I do have some questions for you, if you are still interested.¡± ¡±I¡­ yes. Yes, I am. Please, continue.¡± The man was making a clear attempt to not fidget, keeping his hands carefully still and folded on the table. Karen gave a professional smile to put him at ease. ¡°Now. Our stage one goal is the replacement of traditional Atlantic shipping. You¡¯ve seen the basic reports on how our technology functions. Tell me how you¡¯d begin with that.¡± What followed was a more professional back and forth of questioning as Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust evaluated not just the man¡¯s ability to provide answers, but the culture and mindset those answers indicated in him. He wasn¡¯t perfect. He had a somewhat limited view of how he measured his own value as a person, and that was through his salary and corporate position. And while he outwardly was polite to Texture-Of-Barkdust whenever he spoke to her directly, he did default to speaking to Karen instead if there was any choice. He also fundamentally disagreed with their overall plan to use control of global shipping as a method to redistribute wealth. It wasn¡¯t a specific ideological conflict, but he had a default assumption that if they had technology that could replace human labor, then the people previously providing that labor should simply be shifted out of the picture. These were fixable problems though. Ironically, fixable through his own worldview. Because Karen and Texture-Of-Barkdust could simply use his own desire for prestige and wealth to pay him¡­ exactly what his labor was worth, which was also ironic¡­ and he would happily adapt to what they asked of him. Mercenary to the core, though he wouldn¡¯t think of it that way, and at least this time, they were the ones with the wealth to take advantage of the mindset. He also had his own questions, many of which revolved around security, and national interactions. This would be a level of actual power that world governments typically never allowed to be concentrated into a single company. It was revolutionary, even with the limitations, and it was also a threat to a lot of people with very deep pockets. If they were given time to establish themselves, or if they were willing to invest a significant amount of money with no immediate return, then they could move quickly enough to be seen as a normalized change by a large part of the world in a way that would have them ¡®established¡¯. But it was very likely there would be attempts to seize their assets, shut them down, make their methods illegal, or to simply force them to take actions they might not like. At least, he admitted, they didn¡¯t have military applications, given the limits. That would have been a disaster. He said yes. Eventually. Officially, he would work for a regularly assembled committee of the Order of Endless Rooms that would confirm his decisions and budget and decide on a general direction. Which meant, in practice, he had access to a lot of freedom in how he wanted to approach the project. Texture-Of-Barkdust told him that he should try to move quickly, though within all reasonable safety parameters, and begin his own hiring for local management of the logistical centers that they would be setting up. Karen told him that he didn¡¯t need to move that fast, but that there were options for accelerating certain aspects of construction and training. He¡¯d said yes almost immediately after the demonstration; a short teleport from the parking lot of the Lair to their recently cleared location in Yamhill. Karen had needed to explain that the elevator going several hundred miles was not the teleportation they could use commercially. She had, legitimately, forgotten. ¡±That,¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust said after they had seen Mr. Inoue off, ¡°was exhausting. And yet somehow easier than any of the other interviews.¡± ¡±Indeed it was.¡± Karen sighed as she looked at the signed contract on the table. ¡°He will be interesting to work with. Though I wonder if perhaps it would have been better to find someone¡­¡± ¡±More like us?¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust asked with an amused hiss. Karen shook her head. ¡°No, no. Well. Yes. There¡¯s something James said to me some time ago, about how we structure our government. The idea that authority should grant qualification, which is something we can actually do now. Skulljack files and skill orbs and I¡¯m sure something else besides. Perhaps we should have picked the best personality, and let him train them, instead of hoping his personality fits well enough.¡± ¡±I think he might surprise us.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust offered. ¡°Now. Our day is just beginning, and I need to look over the Response expense accounts.¡± She began to glide out of the conference room and toward her own neatly kept custom desk up here in their office floor. ¡°I will see you at home later.¡± And suddenly Karen¡¯s trepidation was less about whether they¡¯d hired the right highly experienced expert was replaced, by trepidation about what exactly Texture-Of-Barkdust was to her. There were two things she had on her mind today. And suddenly, working on the details of their plan to use magical artifacts that swapped bubbles of space to become an economic force of nature was the easier one for her to process emotionally. Karen wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that either. It felt like she had, perhaps, become too much integrated into the Order of Endless Rooms. More than she¡¯d ever expected, she found her life was exactly the same kind of confusing mess that young people like James dealt with on a daily basis. At least, she consoled herself, James was probably having a harder time with whatever he was doing. That thought kept her going as she glared at the material requisitions for the space elevator that the engineering team was dedicated to like it was their new religion, and in the back of her mind, looked forward to getting home. Chapter 287 ¡°You always ask that question, you know? Violet, do you like, walk into a grocery store, and then go¡­ ¡®are the monsters strong here¡¯? Like god damn. Not every place has monsters, stop asking that. But yeah, the monsters are strong here.¡± -Alex, Wooden Ocean- _____ North Smiths, Utah, was the driest place James had been in a while, and not just in the sense that it seemed to lack liquor stores. It certainly hadn¡¯t improved any just because the sun had set and he was sneaking around. The cooling winds and the constant smell of dust kicked up only working to make him feel like he was having the moisture sucked out of him, and that without his multiple points of Endurance he would turn into a withered husk. ¡±I thought,¡± James lightly accused Zhu, ¡°you said there was a storm coming.¡± ¡±I said it was a metaphor, don¡¯t blame your species¡¯ reliance on being damp on me.¡± Zhu countered. Next to the two of them, sitting in the driver¡¯s seat of their rental car, Arrush cupped two of his smaller claws around his muzzle and tried not to sigh. He didn¡¯t need to cause any more damage to this thing than he already had. They were waiting at the curb across the street from a small park. Dotted trees, a lot of bark chips, and a playground that even Zhu threatened to be too large for at this point, the place was where Zhu claimed two of the teens they were tracking would intersect. He¡¯d brought their own path here at the cost of a mildly painful mishap, which James was pretty sure he¡¯d already paid off when he¡¯d hit his head getting into the car. James maintained that his general face region was cursed to take damage. At least ¡°car¡± was the most mundane thing that had encountered his forehead. On a scale of one to ten, it didn¡¯t approach dungeon chemical fire, or magical dendrification, at least. The three of them had clearly gotten here a little early for whatever rendezvous was happening, and now it was just a game of waiting. Hoping that no one stopped to look in the car parked in the shadows between the bright LED streetlights, and trying to figure out how to approach a pair of skittish kids who might be connected to the whole mess going on here. The thing was, waiting just seemed like a great time to James for musing. ¡±I¡¯ve been thinking.¡± He said as the quiet threatened to take over the car. ¡±Oh no.¡± Zhu and Arrush said at the same time, with the ratroach especially looking pleased with himself, a satisfied glowing line of a smile on his muzzle. James chuckled, taking it in good humor, and honestly just happy to see Arrush this lively. He didn¡¯t always get the chance, since his lungs currently grew in a kind of cycle, and talking was artificially difficult for him already. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re both hilarious. But no, this whole thing has me thinking about dungeons.¡± ¡±They are¡­ fun to think about.¡± Arrush nodded with measured care. ¡°Sometimes.¡± He added in a low rasp. ¡±To be clear, I¡¯m not talking about thinking about what¡¯s in the dungeons.¡± James said, steering the conversation away from the harsher realities of the Sewer or the Underburbs. ¡°I mean in general. The Order¡­ we sort of control a lot of the things, don¡¯t we?¡± ¡±¡­Do we?¡± Zhu asked. ¡°We go into a bunch of them, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯d call them controlled.¡± Arrush gave a rasping cough. ¡°Haven¡¯t even seen all of the Library.¡± He pointed out. James tried to clarify his point. ¡±Right. I mean more that we have a semi-monopoly on access. No one gets into Officium Mundi or Clutter Ascent or especially the Akashic Sewer without us allowing it. Until a few days ago I would have included the Stacks on that list too.¡± ¡±Oh, you¡¯re doing the thing.¡± Zhu¡¯s glowing ethereal feathers ruffled along James¡¯ arm. ¡°Alanna warned me about this.¡± ¡±Wait, she did? How. When.¡± ¡±While you were dying two months ago or something.¡± Zhu flicked a talon out lazily. ¡°Alanna says you feel an ¡®omnipresent guilt for being involved¡¯. This sounds like that.¡± ¡±Mmh.¡± Arrush carefully reached over to James, awkward in the motion and in his thoughts, but still making an effort to set one of his clawed hands on James¡¯ shoulder. James rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not feeling guilty for our use of the dungeons, I¡¯m trying to ask a very real and important question, which is, how do we share these things.¡± He bent his arm at a weird angle to layer his fingers over Arrush¡¯s as he continued. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of other people out there who might not end up as part of the Order, but who aren¡¯t bad people, and I dunno, it just feels like we should work out a plan for opening dungeon exploration up at some point. I think I¡¯ve said before that I might want to be one of the first wizards, but I don¡¯t wanna be the only one. I think the world would be cooler with a lot more magic in it.¡± ¡±Eh-even dangerous magic?¡± Arrush asked, then startled James with a sudden clicking bark that was actually just a laugh, Arrush having realized something that surprised himself. ¡°Nevermind.¡± He said, pulling his hand back. ¡°I forgot.¡± ¡±You- oh.¡± James realized Arrush was talking about himself, and gave a snort of laughter of his own. ¡°I kinda did too, honestly. I was thinking of stuff like skill orbs or Climb spells or anything I guess.¡± Zhu tapped at the back of James¡¯ hand. ¡°So, who would you let in? Anyone?¡± ¡±Oh, god no. That seems like it¡¯s begging for trouble. But¡­ I dunno, other delver groups we meet that have compatible levels of idealism? Zoologists and botanists just to let them see the weird stuff? I guess¡­ any kind of journalists for the same reason? Even just sightseers, if they¡¯re careful. Winter¡¯s Climb is actually a weird example for this cause so many of its spells are utility, and good for normal daily life, that it would be cool to just let anyone go on trips up one or two thousand feet to get those. Even if someone sucks as a person, making their life better is more likely to make them suck less than more. Statistically that is true.¡± Arrush met Zhu¡¯s eye, the navigator¡¯s large rolling orb turning to look at the tan-furred ratroach in his comfortable hoodie. Between them, an invisible message was sent, before Arrush decided to ask the question that they were both thinking. ¡°You¡­ are talking about¡­ having control of the dungeons.¡± He said, before realizing it wasn¡¯t really a question. ¡°Yyyyes?¡± James fumbled at the side of his seat until he found the little thing that let him lean it back slightly, and promptly messed it up, before spending twenty seconds trying to get it to the right position. ¡°Yes.¡± He said, between muffled cursing. ¡°I¡­ okay, yes. Did I say this wrong? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s bad that we control the dungeons,¡± Zhu and Arrush both sighed in relief as James spoke, ¡°I just think we should be conscious about it. Be deliberate about who we share with.¡± ¡±Does this get weird when you consider that the dungeons are kind of people?¡± Zhu asked. ¡±Zhu, I love you. I really do. But this got weird several years ago, and hasn¡¯t stopped getting weirder since.¡± ¡±¡­I like the weird.¡± Arrush rasped quietly. ¡±Oh, same. Don¡¯t get me wrong. Also Zhu¡¯s kinda right which is also worrying. We treat Clutter Ascent like a kid, and that place is growing¡­ well, like a kid. I would never ¡®put them to work¡¯ the same way I would the Climb or the Office. But yeah, if we had a way to negotiate with either of those places, we should absolutely-¡° ¡±Ssh.¡± Arrush placed a hand on James face, missing his lips and just kind of pawing at his whole head. The ratroach had gone rigid, his rear arms pushing him upright in his seat as he stared out the windshield. ¡°T-talk later. Someone is here.¡± The someone was a kid. Though James needed to get out of the habit of thinking of anyone under the age of thirty as a kid. He could see that becoming a problem as he grew into his presumably ancient and terrible lifespan, and he didn¡¯t want to do the traditional boomer thing of assuming people younger than him were dumb. Just this person. Though to be fair there, who expected to be tracked down via magic, to a late night meeting in a playground? Well. James did. But that¡¯s kinda why it didn¡¯t happen to him. He had Planner and whatever bullshit JP cooked up to keep him out of trouble like that. This kid though was absolutely a kid. Probably around fifteen or sixteen. He wasn¡¯t overweight or anything, but he had a boxy face that made him seem heavier than he probably was under the generic polo shirt and jeans he was wearing. As he passed under a streetlight and made his way to the part of the park farthest from the streets around it, James got a better look at the bowl cut of blonde hair, and the way he seemed like he was especially twitchy. That was confirmed as he started pacing a line in the bark chips behind the dome of climbing bars, flinching at every car that passed by. ¡±Settle down.¡± James softly told Arrush. ¡°His friend¡¯ll be here soon. And Zhu, under cover please. Let¡¯s not give ourselves away too early.¡± The navigator grumbled, but made the effort to pull his feathers back under James¡¯ clothing, showing off his selective solidity as he pressed against skin with a series of prickles. They didn¡¯t wait idly, though. Instead, both of them compulsively checked their leveler earrings to make sure they had at least one invisibility charge, and James double and triple checked the telepad that would get them out of the car without the doors alerting anyone. They¡¯d have to make sure they didn¡¯t fall over when they landed from a seating position, but Arrush¡¯s tails were surprisingly robust, and Zhu¡¯s own tail would help brace James. When the second young man showed up, James¡¯ main thought was to wonder what the hell they were putting in the school lunches. He looked like he was also fifteen or sixteen, but he was closing in on seven feet tall, thin to the point of being almost gaunt, and just as nervous as his friend. He rapidly headed for where his friend was presumably making a stereotypical ¡°psst¡± noise behind the playground structures, which meant it was time for James and Arrush to get closer. Now was really the best time for it; any noise they made would also be covered by the two teen¡¯s footsteps, and they were still close to a busy street. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go.¡± James said. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡±No. I¡¯m t-terrified.¡± Arrush said. ¡°Wh-aat if one of them sees me? Th-they might faint and hurt themselves.¡± ¡±¡­I love you.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep the glowing grin that was so wide it kinda hurt off his face. ¡°Gimmie your paw and cloak.¡± He held a hand out, and Arrush set his own on his palm. Through his skulljack, James mentally nudged a program and a connection, and started sending everything he was seeing and hearing off to the rest of the team, who would presumably also get the feed to Ben back at the Lair. Then they vanished, and a second later all three of them were somewhere else as James pulled the telepad. Landing was a trick. But they were tensed and ready for it, and the crunch of bark chips under their different forms of feet was ignored by the two teens. As James began moving into position with Arrush just behind him, he caught the start of a somewhat panicked sounding conversation. ¡±-to come out during the day!¡± The taller kid was saying, voice cracking into a squeak at the end. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± The shorter one snapped back, voice rising before he forced himself to a quieter tone, at least slightly mindful of the fact that they were surrounded by suburban houses. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I saw it too! What are we supposed to do?¡± The tall one jumped as a pair of cars passed by, whatever was making him nervous also clearly making him angry. ¡°Tell the bishop!¡± He snapped, prompting James to make a note on that with his skulljack. ¡°Tell our parents? Tell anyone?¡± ¡±They won¡¯t believe us!¡± The shorter one yelled back, voice rising again. ¡°Bishop Mercer didn¡¯t even believe us about Emma and Liam, and that wasn¡¯t close to this serious!¡± Twenty feet away, James mouthed the names with a furrow of his brow. Those were two of the kids who the Order had intersected with before. ¡±He¡¯s a bishop! He¡¯ll know what to do!¡± The quieter friend insisted. ¡°It¡¯s our duty to tell him about demon activity!¡± James almost audibly sighed. There was another noun to add to his list. And another spike of shame at how other members of his species saw Arrush. Part of him considered dropping the invisibility now, but he held out for more information. The shorter teen jerked a hand through his mop of blonde hair, pulling at it in a way that seemed like a habit for him. ¡°What are we supposed to do?¡± He asked in a fearful young voice. ¡°Why is this happening? And where¡¯s Joe?!¡± ¡±He can¡¯t go out on Monday nights, remember?¡± ¡±Maybe he should! We should all be here for this! And¡­ and we could handle it!¡± He arched his back like he was trying to match his taller friend for height. ¡°God doesn¡¯t give us tests we can¡¯t beat, right?¡± ¡±R-right¡­¡± came the more skittish answer. ¡°I guess¡­ yeah. Should we¡­ should we go get Joe? Maybe he¡¯ll know something. And¡­ and we can¡¯t wait until Sunday.¡± Seeing the conversation starting to falter, James took that as his cue to step in and ask some pointed questions of his own. ¡°Hold back. Keep out of sight.¡± He said softly to Arrush, knowing his voice wouldn¡¯t carry far and the ratroach should hear him. Letting his invisibility drop, he started walking forward with measured steps on the bark chips that made soft crunches. The noise may as well have been gunshots for how quickly the two teenagers spun. One of them even screamed, which wasn¡¯t exactly what James was going for, so he decided to go with his calm adult voice to try to manage the situation before they decided to run, or shoot him. He just assumed they were armed; his worldview might have some issues after everything he¡¯d been through. ¡°Good even gentlemen.¡± He said, giving them a level look. ¡°Demon!¡± The tall one shouted, while the other one took a fumbled step backward, looking like he was preparing to sprint away. ¡±Federal agent, actually.¡± James said smoothly, deeply satisfied with his delivery. ¡°Gordon Haman.¡± He held up his fake badge in one hand, the leather wallet unfolded so they could see it existed, but there was no way they could read it at this distance. ¡°I have a few questions for you two.¡± If anything, James impersonating law enforcement seemed to scare them more than if he was a demon, whatever that happened to mean. ¡°You can¡¯t talk to us without the bishop¡¯s permission!¡± The tall one instantly squeaked out. That was¡­ legally not true, but the conviction in it drew James up short. ¡°Parents.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Legally I cannot interrogate you without your parents.¡± He corrected them. ¡°Either way, it¡¯s a good thing this isn¡¯t an interrogation, just some questions. On account of neither of you being in trouble for anything.¡± ¡°Y-you¡¯re not here to take us home for being out past curfew?¡± One of them stammered out. James checked his nonexistent watch with a frown. ¡°It¡¯s barely ten PM.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I was your age, but curfew isn¡¯t¡­ that early, is it?¡± He shook his head slightly and tried to pull the mask of professional federal agent back up. ¡°Well. Doesn¡¯t matter. All laws are enforced selectively, so if you can help me out, I¡¯ll forget what curfew is.¡± He crossed his arms, shifting into a casual stance that made it clear he expected them to stay still and answer. ¡°But first, what do I call you?¡± ¡±Jeff. S-sir?¡± The tall one said. Shaking his head at the kid, James turned to the blonde who looked like he was trying to decide if running was an option, before ducking his head and muttering a name. ¡°Scott.¡± ¡±Alright Jeff, Scott.¡± James nodded. ¡°How about you tell me what you know about Liam, Emma, and Lincon. I know you know at least one of them, and I¡¯m interested in what you have to say.¡± ¡±They-!¡± Jeff only go a single word in before Scott cut him off. ¡°No!¡± He shouted, loud enough that even James glanced around to see if there was any attention from the middle class houses they were amidst. ¡°No! We¡¯re not supposed to tell anyone!¡± ¡±I was just gonna tell him we¡¯re in the same class!¡± Scott jerked back as Jeff lunged over and grabbed his arm, the two of them getting into the most awkward shoving match James had ever seen. ¡°It¡¯s not a secret! Our families go to the same temple!¡± ¡±Of course,¡± James said with a firm tone that overrode their fighting, ¡°that opens up a new question. What aren¡¯t you supposed to tell me, Jeff?¡± He took a step forward, an unhappy frown on his face. ¡°Your classmates are missing. A lot of people are missing, actually. Something is wrong around here, and I think you know it. But here you are, out after dark, like that doesn¡¯t worry you. So.¡± He stepped toward them again, softening his tone. ¡°Would you like to tell me what I¡¯m missing?¡± ¡±Th-they aren¡¯t missing!¡± Jeff said, on the verge of breaking down crying. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! They aren¡¯t missing!¡± ¡±¡­what?¡± James actually drew up short at that. ¡°Yes they are. They aren¡¯t at home, their parents are gone too, their grandparents are dead. No record of where they went, no one even seems to remember them. They¡¯re as missing as it gets.¡± ¡±They¡¯re in the-¡° He stopped talking as his friend slugged him in the face. Well, tried to. He was literally punching up, so Scott¡¯s fist kinda just hit Jeff in the neck at a weird angle. ¡°Shut up!¡± He shouted. ¡°Shut up! The bishop made us promise to not tell anyone! That includes him!¡± ¡±But he¡¯s with the FBI!¡± Jeff coughed out, staggering to the side. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter!¡± Scott screamed, voice breaking. ¡°He¡¯s not part of anything! We promised God! He doesn¡¯t matter!¡± He lunged for his friend again, swinging wildly while he kept shouting. ¡°You¡¯re breaking the vows! You¡¯re why there¡¯s demons in the day! This is your fault!¡± Jeff grabbed the other kid¡¯s wrists, face screwed up in a panicked snarl as he seemingly reflexively kneed the other boy in the groin. He followed him down as he collapsed onto the bark chips, fumbling for purchase as he tried to grapple the other boy. The fight came to an abrupt halt as James walked up to them and grabbed the two of them, yanking them to their feet and apart, though Scott still had a hand trying to crush the other teen¡¯s arm. ¡°Hey! Cut it the fuck out!¡± And then, this close to them, one of them got a much clearer look at his face. ¡±Jeff¡­¡± the kid let go of his friend, staring at James now that he was closer to them, ¡°that¡¯s the guy.¡± ¡±What?¡± ¡±The guy. That¡¯s the guy from earlier. With the demon.¡± Scott shuffled backward, putting his friend between him and James. The words were whispered, but James heard anyway, and sighed. ¡°Gentlemen.¡± He said. ¡°Fighting is not going to-¡° he stopped as Scott lunged for him and tried to hit in the face with the same badly formed fist that he¡¯d used on his tall buddy. James didn¡¯t even move, he just let the kid misjudge the distance and swipe at the air in front of his face. ¡°-solve anything. Now I-¡° he shifted deftly to his left to let another attempt at hitting him whiff past,¡± -would like to know a few things.¡± ¡±Scott!¡± Jeff yelled, and now there were definitely lights coming on in some of the nearby houses. ¡°He¡¯s a cop, you can¡¯t do that!¡± ¡±Help me!¡± Scott coughed out as James shoved him off with an open palm, leverage and momentum making the push powerful enough to send him sprawling. ¡°We can deal with him, and the bishop will take care of it!¡± Jeff looked appalled. ¡±Dude! No!¡± He backed off, holding up his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not gonna help you kill a guy!¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°As a short aside, I¡¯m also not going to let you kill me.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡±You don¡¯t have a choice.¡± Jeff said, probably thinking that line sounded incredibly badass, but botching the delivery so badly that it really never would have sounded like anything except a fifteen year old trying to sound cool. But, when he stumbled to his feet with a swaying and trembling stance, he was holding a spear that hadn¡¯t been there before. He lashed out, and James punched him. Once, hard, right in the solar plexus. James caught the spear out of the air as Jeff slammed his back into the bark chips, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on one of the metal pipes that made up the jungle gym. The two teenagers didn¡¯t catch it, but with his magically sharpened ears, James caught Arrush¡¯s coughing giggle from twenty feet away. ¡°Stay.¡± James ordered the downed teenager in a commanding tone, before turning back to the other one. ¡°Scott. Answers. Now.¡± The teen held his hands up like James was holding him at gunpoint. ¡°Th-they¡¯re going through repentance! Emma and Liam are! I don¡¯t know the other guy you said!¡± Once the words started, they came out in a flood, though without actually explaining much. ¡°Th-th-they did something evil, and they lied to a bishop! Everyone knows! They got someone killed from a demon that wasn¡¯t supposed to be there!¡± ¡±Kid.¡± James said slowly. ¡°If you say ¡®demon¡¯ one more time, I¡¯m gonna scream.¡± Jeff started to lower his hands, his shadow on the ground stretching under the harsh streetlights behind him on the sidewalk. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ know?¡± He looked confused, glancing at where his groaning friend was coughing on the ground. ¡°But Scott was¡­ you were the guy earlier, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡±Yeah. That doesn¡¯t mean I know what a demon is.¡± James said evenly, realizing that he had fully lost control of this encounter and was going to learn probably very little from it. ¡°Look at this from my perspective for a second. You just told me that multiple minors are being held against their will by what I presume is your church leadership. And you¡¯re more scared of literal demons than you are of me. Scott back there just made this thing¡± James hefted the spear, ¡°appear by literal magic. So maybe, maybe, what I would like is a straight fucking answer about what is going on here, before I get annoyed.¡± ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t.¡± Jeff¡¯s voice was choked as he took a step backward, looking like he was about to run. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I can¡¯t!¡± ¡°People are getting hurt, Jeff.¡± James said softly, sweeping his eyes around them as he felt Zhu shift under his clothing, the navigator reacting to something James couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Help me out here. Where are your classmates being held? You know that¡¯s wrong, no matter what any of your elders or bishops say.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± ¡±Can¡¯t, or are worried to?¡± James asked. ¡°I can-¡° ¡±You can¡¯t!¡± Scott yelled from behind them, only part of a groan in his voice as he staggered to his feet. ¡°You can¡¯t help us! You¡¯re not the first person that would say that, and then disappear. And then more people go into indefinite repentance!¡± He fumbled the last words, pronouncing it ¡®indinenent¡¯, but James was pretty sure he caught the meaning. ¡°And who is running, or where is, this secret unofficial prison?¡± James demanded. ¡±It¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s not here.¡± Scott said, grunting as he rolled onto his knees and pushed himself upward off the ground, bark chips sticking in his pants and to his hands. ¡°You¡¯ll never find it.¡± James snorted. ¡°The two of you just admitted that there¡¯s some kind of large scale child trafficking conspiracy happening here. You do understand that, right? This isn¡¯t a game. People are holding children captive. Now I want to get information out of you about the demons, the magic, anything more fun than this. But that¡¯s not going to happen. We¡¯re going to go¡­¡± he trailed off as Zhu¡¯s feathers snapped against him, writhing against his arm and back. James narrowed his eyes, looking around again, including sweeping over where Arrush was still lurking cloaked on the edge of the little playground. Something was wrong. He took in the environment. The playground was empty except for them, the metal pipe dome of the jungle gym was clear, the street hadn¡¯t had a car go by in a little while but it was normal, the houses around them¡­ All the lights were out. All of them. They¡¯d been shouting and arguing out here in the open, and it had attracted attention, but there was no way that everyone had simultaneously decided to ignore it and go to bed. Hell, some of those people would have been awake and doing normal stuff without even checking on what was happening outside. James had an unofficial policy, as a paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms, that if something looked fucky, it was better to overreact and not get killed than underreact and absolutely get killed. ¡°Up. Move. We need to get out of the open.¡± He ordered the kids. Jeff stared at him blankly. ¡±What-¡° ¡±You¡¯re too late.¡± Scott started laughing, a manic sound that bordered on a squeal. ¡°Can¡¯t you feel it?¡± ¡±¡­no?¡± James frowned as his ears caught the sound of leathery wings flapping overhead. ¡°Shit. Zhu, out, now.¡± He dropped the stolen spear, planting one foot on it to make sure it didn¡¯t get grabbed away, and drew his pistol, holding it muzzle down as he scanned the air around them. ¡°Jeff, stay close to me, unless you know what-¡° James gave a strangled yelp as something hit him in the side. His head snapped around to see Jeff standing close, as instructed, but the tall teen was staring down at him with panicked eyes as he shoved a knife into James¡¯ side. ¡°-what.¡± Being stabbed was a shock. James had been shot before, sure. Bitten, sliced, slammed into a wall, through a wall, lots of stuff. But never stabbed, that he could remember. It hurt less than he¡¯d expected, but also, there was an associated emotional pain with his favorite weird Officium Mundi shirt dissolving away in a rapid cloud of vanishing dust as it took damage and gave up. ¡±S-sorry.¡± His assailant muttered. ¡°I-it¡¯s okay. I k-know the demons are your fault. But- but God will forgive you.¡° his words rose sharply in pitch as he tried to drag the blade up through James¡¯ flank and into his chest, but Zhu was already there, an orange talon clamping down on the kid¡¯s wrist as James stumbled back and snap kicked Jeff¡¯s knee hard enough to send the teen to the ground with a scream, even as Scott lurched to his feet and charged into the melee. James opened his mouth to say something, but just coughed heavily as the knife in his side shifted. The crunch of bark chips was the only warning before invisible paws steadied him, Arrush arriving at his side in a pair of long bounds and chittering with anxiety. ¡°Ow.¡± He said. ¡°Zhu¡­¡± ¡±Got it.¡± Zhu unfurled completely, the light glow of his feathers and limbs painting James in a bright outline in the darker part of the park, long talons and a wide feathered tail stabilizing him and reaching out in a defensive posture. ¡°Alright listen up.¡± His running engine of a voice billowing out as he shouted into the night. ¡°This idiot will put up with a lot of bullshit from teenagers, but attempted murder isn¡¯t on the list! Both of you sit down, stop summoning stabby shit, and tell us what is going on in this mistake of a city!¡± For just a moment, the tiniest slice of time, it seemed like things were about to go the way Zhu had demanded. Scott and Jeff fell silent and - importantly - stopped trying to grab one of their weapons. The flapping of wings overhead was quiet. Even the road was silent and empty of cars, though that wasn¡¯t so special, this was a suburb at night. Then the streetlights went out and the things overhead started screaming in the descending darkness. They sounded like goats, thin bleats that escalated in pitch as they swept closer. ¡±Zhu. Evasive pattern please.¡± James said, finding his voice as he exhaled Breath and summoned a tiny icy limb just to clamp the knife in his side so that it didn¡¯t either slice something important or fall out and take his blood with it. ¡°Arrush, this might get messy.¡± ¡±Yes, that¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± Arrush said in steady Spanish that almost sounded amused. ¡±Uh¡­¡± Zhu¡¯s confusion struck James and Arrush¡¯s ears. ¡°Hey, uh¡­.!¡± ¡±Zhu, I need to know where to dodge more than I need your help hitting whatever¡¯s coming.¡± James said, the pain making him sound a little mean. The navigator twisted around, his eye scanning the sky. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re not after you.¡± He said frantically. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to dodge!¡± His talons swept up over their heads, casting an orange glow around them in a pool, just in time for him and James to spot the first one of the creatures landing. It slammed into the bark chip ground in a crouch, quickly raising up on digitigrade legs covered in tufts of black fur. Its wings were huge batlike canopies that grew from its whole thin armless body, all the way up to where its neck started. And the neck itself was an arched furred tube, almost like a swan, that ended with a sharpened cone of a beak and a face with beady eyes and a pair of curved horns. ¡±Hot.¡± James said on reflex, as the thing swept glinting eyes over him, then snapped its head around, moving out of Zhu¡¯s glow as it stalked toward where James had kicked Jeff into the ground. Then he actually used his brain, and realized what was going on. ¡°No, wait. Shit. Arrush, get Scott, get in the car and get out of here. I¡¯ve got a telepad, I¡¯ll get Jeff. Don¡¯t let these things kill them.¡± ¡±Sure?¡± Arrush asked in a soft rasp. ¡°They hurt you. Bleeding. Could let them-¡° ¡±Get the kid. Please.¡± James didn¡¯t have time for an argument as he heard more of the demons landing. Arrush¡¯s paws left the exposed skin of his back as the ratroach silently moved to follow the instruction. James meanwhile started taking unsteady steps through the dark, unable to see shit. Unlike Arrush, he had terrible night vision. This was one of those things he felt like should have been on the short list for common purple orb powers, but instead he kept getting more flexible skin or narrow health benefits. And now it was kinda late to add another thirty purples to his list. ¡°Zhu-¡° ¡±On it. I know things. Short route, but you¡¯re looking at two conflicts on the way.¡± ¡±They could be people.¡± James said as the map to where Jeff was laying on the ground screaming popped into his head. He started running, his eyes barely adjusting to see under the sliver of moonlight and faded glow of the suburbs. He saw one of the demons just before he slammed into it, and corrected his run just enough to not slam into it. It was ignoring him, though it was also running forward to the same point James was. ¡°Fuck off!¡± He yelled at it, and it tried to backhand him with one of its billowing wings. He tried to catch the blow but there wasn¡¯t anything to find purchase on. James wasn¡¯t sure how violent he should be, but as soon as it actually hit him, it started bleating loudly again, and snapped at him with its beak, the strike coming in like a fucking missile that only stopped because James had a gun in his hand and could read the trajectory through his Aim. Weeks of training to maximize his magical boost paid off, and he was firing defensively before he even really processed that he was about to have his heart carved out. The gunshots were deafeningly loud, even over the screams, and the demon splattered backward as James dropped it, much more of it erupting into liquid blood than a pair of low caliber shots should have caused. He kept moving, reaching Jeff in short order. ¡°Alright kid.¡± James said as Zhu¡¯s glow wrapped around the lanky teen. ¡°Get up, let¡¯s get- shit.¡± He swore as Jeff tried to stab him again with a different knife. This one was a less well constructed looking curved dagger, but James wasn¡¯t here to critique style, he was apparently here to get stabbed. Zhu slapped the strike aside with his claw, his own limb extending off James¡¯ elbow as James took a shooter¡¯s stance and cracked off two more shots at the demon rushing Jeff from behind. The things were laser focused on killing the two kids, which made his Aim predict them with casual ease. James really needed to cram more basketball stats, having another point of that would be beyond helpful. The deflection Zhu had made was more violent than James had been. He¡¯d disarmed Jeff by slicing bloody lines across his forearm and sending the blade off into the dark, which didn¡¯t exactly endear either him or James to the kid. But he still tried negotiating, because James was right, and they couldn¡¯t just leave a pair of children to die, even human children that took way too long to learn any better. ¡°Get up! We need to get you out of here!¡± Zhu said. ¡°They¡¯re not trying to-¡° He was cut off as Jeff, half-screaming and half-sobbing, took the clumsiest swing that either James or Zhu had ever seen in their respective lives. Just a pitifully telegraphed haymaker that would have made him a fierce schoolyard bully with his size and reach, but against James just read as casually irritating, especially when they were in the middle of being attacked from the sky. He could still hear yet more goat swan demon things overhead, this wasn¡¯t even close to over. And the knife in his side was making everything feel a lot harder than it should be. Multiple points were proved for him as a pair of demons landed, one of them on Jeff, the kid screaming louder before he was slammed into the ground by the hooves these guys apparently had. James caught the other one on its way down and encouraged it into the ground, slamming it against the bark chips in a way that made its relatively light frame bounce off into the night, though his eyes had adjusted enough to be able to see the outline of it as it struggled up, bleating wildly. By the time he got his gun back up, the one on Jeff had drilled multiple holes in the kid¡¯s cheek and arms with its beak. Terrified of shooting into a melee like that, James kicked it off with Zhu¡¯s tail steadying him, before he unloaded into the demon, and put another two bullets downrange at the lump he¡¯d thrown out of the fight earlier. ¡°This isn¡¯t working!¡± He shouted at Zhu as a bleeding, screaming teenager once again tried to stumble to his feet and kill him, yelling something about a test from god that James just wasn¡¯t interested in. ¡°Zhu, I have a stupid idea.¡± ¡±As I am partly made of your thoughts, I also have a stupid idea.¡± Zhu replied with joy that was only partially faked. ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°Kid¡¯s dead if we don¡¯t figure something out.¡± James answered, holstering his pistol and putting Jeff in a struggling headlock, easily dragging the teen with him as he pulled him across the playground. Shoving him forward, he pushed the young man through the bars of the dome shaped jungle gym. ¡°Stay here!¡± He ordered, paving a demon that landed on top to blanket the playground structure with its wings, neck twisting to dive between the gaps in the bars. It screamed as James hit it again with the spell, trying to stand and then sliding along the bars with its hooves before collapsing through one of the gaps as James calmly reloaded his pistol, replaced the mostly spent magazine in his belt, and took two precise shots into the folded mass before it could get up. ¡°Jeff, fucking stay here, or I swear to whatever god you want, I¡¯m shooting you next.¡± James said. ¡°Arrush! You okay!¡± ¡±I have the child!¡± Arrush¡¯s hoarse shout was hard to hear over the gathering flock of wings and bleating screams, but James could easily spot him across the street because the interior lights of their rental car were on and Arrush was standing there waiting for him. ¡°Are you-?¡± ¡±Get outta here! Zhu and I are gonna do something dumb!¡± ¡±¡­I love you too!¡± Arrush yelled back, before there was the slam of a car door and the starting of an engine. ¡±You two are so fucking cute.¡± Zhu said. ¡°This must be how Alanna feels all the time watching you. You could get positivity poisoning from this.¡± James tried to laugh but it turned into a pained bark. ¡±Shaddup.¡± He said with a flickering grin that hid how he grit his teeth. ¡°Ready?¡± He was ready. Arrush would be fine, the others were already moving to intercept him and make sure the kid he¡¯d gotten out of there didn¡¯t try to stab anyone else. And Arrush hadn¡¯t even looked hurt, so James assumed that most of the demons were after his side of things instead. A condition he intended to amplify. ¡±Already doing it.¡± Zhu announced. ¡°Hooks in, it¡¯s definitely something magic, though not alive. Easy, easy, because I am the perfect creation. Are you ready? I¡¯ll be¡­ I¡¯ll be tired after this.¡± ¡±Do it.¡± James turned and started sprinting away from the park, aiming for the street and from there the cover of buildings and lamp posts that would break off any dive bombing attempts on his life. Because he was about to get a few of those. There was a trick that he and Zhu had learned from talking to Kirk and his own navigator partner recently. Navigators were, at their core, different from their assignment brethren in one important way. While they were both, in a sense, made of living information, navigators were living maps. Not just a simple graphic representation of a route, but everything about a map. Directions, landmarks, the structured information that had to do with geographical navigation. And just like assignments could feed off the sharing of information in different organized formats, navigators fed off the use of the idea of routes themselves. Similarly, while assignments could ¡®cover¡¯ information in themselves, blocking it out, eroding it from minds, making people think away from certain facts¡­ Navigators could layer themselves over a route. Any route that involved geography, which was, it turned out, most of them. Even, for example, some kind of command to a flock of demons to kill a specific person. Zhu found it stretched him pretty thin, all while being an excellent source of energy. Which, unfortunately with his current condition, was going to knock him out pretty soon. But the effect would persist, and until the route itself was changed to get out from under his bullshit, these things would be hellbent on James and not their original victim. James was becoming very good at one thing. Surviving. And if he could take on that role in place of someone else, it was essentially the easiest solution to most problems like this. As he started running through the cooling night, toward where the streetlights hadn¡¯t been killed by some outside effect and some windows had lights on, a small text popped into his head through the skulljack telling him that an ambulance was on the way for Jeff. Thirty seconds later, there was confirmation that police were moving into the area, which James himself already knew from the sirens going off and closing in. Alice and Charlie were closing in on Arrush, too. So his boyfriend would be okay. And that just left James, and the exceptionally dangerous flock of monsters on his heels in the sky. He didn¡¯t want to start shooting wildly into the air. He was confident he could hit; Aim was kinda bullshit that way. But confident wasn¡¯t actually the same as guaranteed, and James wasn¡¯t gonna be the guy that accidentally killed a random civilian two streets over because of his own carelessness. So he kept running, staggering his movements so he put on bursts of speed to keep near lampposts or the transplanted trees. He also kept moving even as two of them crashed down onto the pavement ahead of him, straightening up with their screaming bleats as one lashed forward with a beak while they both held their wings out like they were trying to catch James in a net. Not stopping, James expended a little Breath, grateful for the warmish air, and applied frost vectors to his pants and boots, negating friction between them and the ground and letting him play it save on hitting the sidewalk at his enhanced running clip. He slid forward between the two demons, grabbing one of their legs on the way past and swinging himself around. Canceling the spell as he yanked himself upright, James topped the first demon and then utterly failed to put the other one in a headlock as the wide blanket of leathery wing kept him back. It kept screaming as it whipped around, beating at him with its complete lack of leverage, and James let the momentum carry it as he clocked it in the side of the beak with a rapid jab, burning the last of his Velocity to pave it and send it down to the sidewalk with its partner before he was running again, three more demons landing on all sides. There was no easy way out here unless he wanted to start shooting, and James had a finite number of bullets, so he settled on using distance to draw them off of their original prey. He wished Zhu was still with him, and he also wished that there wasn¡¯t a blade digging into his side, but those could be fixed later as long as he didn¡¯t get drilled by one of those viciously sharp beaks. When James heard the car approaching, he thought it might be a cop for a second, but there was no associated siren. When a battered red SUV pulled up at the corner of the intersection he was running toward, he didn¡¯t drop any of his worries that someone was about to shoot him, especially when the passenger side door was thrown open. But then he saw the driver, leaning over to give the door a push, look up and meet his eyes. ¡±Get in!¡± The man yelled, and James had about a block of running to think about whether he should or not. Because the guy who had just provided him with an easy escape route was, in fact, police Captain Mecham. Or rather, the jowl-faced man who was impersonating Captain Mecham when James had spoken to him. ¡°Shit!¡± The man barked as James¡¯ thoughts were interrupted by one of the bat winged monsters crashing into his back, hooves shoving him down to the ground hard as the air was slammed out of his lungs. James kept calm, because he had inexplicably trained for this. Well, trained to cast while being fucked up. Frost Vector ate up a little more of his stored Breath and made him feel a little woozy, but it meant that he slid on the pavement instead of ripping his bare chest open on it like a concrete cheese grater. Mountain of the Self he could only keep up for a second, but he did it anyway as he twisted over, and was grateful he¡¯d burned the Breath on it as the demon¡¯s beak broke on his invulnerable neck. He grabbed its own thin arched neck, jerking his hand sideways and getting a frantic bleat from it, before something started hitting it. Small puffs of red erupted across the demon¡¯s fur, and also a few stinging hits on James¡¯ own arm. But it wasn¡¯t blood, it was something else, the impersonator firing from his car on both that demon and the other one bearing down from behind James. Whatever he was shooting, it stung James¡¯ skin, but it made the creatures squeal. Their fur and flesh melting into slimy liquid wherever they were hit, both of them backing off and clawing at themselves with their wings wherever they could reach. Good enough for him. James got up, sprinted the last block in a couple seconds, and leapt into the car as the man tossed the paintball gun he was holding into the back seat. James slammed the door, buckled up on ancient instinct, and let out a long sigh of relief as the driver floored it and got them out of there, clipping a descending demon with the bumper as he did so and splattering it onto the pavement. And now, freed from the responsibility of running, James looked down at his flank. The knife plunged into him, still held in place by his extra icy limb, had gone in under his ribs, but didn¡¯t feel like it had hit anything vital. It just hurt like hell. ¡°I¡¯m gonna bleed on your car.¡± He told the man. ¡±You- oh. Shit kid, that looks bad. Cursed?¡± The driver glanced at him before reaching over to pop the glove box and reveal a first aid kit. Among a lot of other things that James would have called ¡®standard delver gear¡¯ if that was a thing. ¡±Is that even an option now? Fuck.¡± James snarled as he fumbled the box open and started unwrapping sterile bandages and gauze, tearing strips with his teeth before taking a series of short breaths to hype himself up, and yanking the knife out with a terrible sensation. Before he could bleed too much, he was pressing the gauze and medical tape down, holding it in place as he staunched the wound. ¡°Seems fine.¡± ¡±So.¡± The older man said as he drove them out of the suburb and onto a commercial street, aiming the car at a freeway onramp. ¡°You¡¯re not really a fed.¡± ¡±And you¡¯re not really a cop.¡± James countered, pressing his hand into the bandage and holding it there, wondering if he was going to experience organ failure soon. Both of them checked the side mirrors in unison, looking into the better lit sky for any demonic pursuit. Sighed in unison, though James¡¯ was more pained and the driver¡¯s was a lot thicker. The two of them let the silence go on for a minute before both of them twisted their bodies to shake hands over the central console. ¡±James.¡± James introduced himself. ¡±Becker.¡± The other man said. ¡°What¡¯s with the club look?¡± He motioned at James¡¯ shirtless form. James took a second to realize what he meant, patting his chest and stomach before giving a soft. ¡°Oh. Right, kid stabbed me. I was wearing a kind of item that breaks if it gets damaged.¡± He looked down at the red marks on his arm where he¡¯d been shot by Becker¡¯s paintball gun, brushing off whatever it was that was stuck to his skin and starting to burn. ¡°What the hell were you shooting?¡± ¡±The things hate capsaicin. Well, the weak ones. So they¡¯re just packed with chili powder. Safer than bullets in the burbs.¡± Nodding appreciatively, James looked out the window at the freeway they were now on, a handful of other cars zipping along with them. ¡°Where are we going?¡± ¡±I¡¯ve got a camp off the east road out of town. Middle of nowhere enough that no one would know where to start looking.¡± James nodded, checking his incoming messages on the skulljack to confirm what he was about to ask was okay. ¡°Mind dropping me off somewhere?¡± He asked. ¡°Maybe helping clear some stuff up for some friends and me? Because I dunno how the North Smiths¡¯ vibe is normally, but it seems like things are getting a little messy.¡± ¡±¡­You have air conditioning?¡± Becker asked him. ¡±We have air conditioning.¡± James confirmed. The man flipped the little magnetic stand his phone was on around toward James. ¡°Plug the address in.¡± ¡±Thanks.¡± James said, and then, as the pain came on in full, the adrenaline faded to a bitter aftertaste, and the nightmare of the mess he was in once again caught up to him, he let his hand drop back to his lap. Leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes, just for a second, his voice softening to something tired and worried that this was too familiar. ¡°Seriously, thanks. I think I had that, but thanks for being the kind of person that puts it on the line like that.¡± ¡±Someone¡¯s gotta.¡± The man said with a heavy chuckle. ¡°No one else in this godforsaken city is gonna.¡± James grinned, feeling a spark light up as he leaned forward and started figuring out the map app. ¡°Well. Someone is now.¡± He said. ¡°Hey, how do you feel about snakes?¡± ¡±¡­I¡¯m really hoping this is rhetorical.¡± Chapter 288 ¡°Look at this neophyte. Doesn¡¯t know the difference between a ball and The Orb.¡± -Montgomery Kone, QWERPline- _____ ¡°I¡¯m not kidding.¡± James said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Becker¡¯s dinged up SUV parked streetside in front of the rental home, which looked very inviting in the suburban gloom after the events of the last hour. James was relieved to see the other rental car there too, which confirmed that Arrush had gotten back okay, even though he¡¯d already known that from keeping in contact through his skulljack. ¡°Two. Three if you count Zhu, but he¡¯s asleep. Actually dunno if any of them have passengers, so could be more.¡± ¡±Sounds like you hit your head too hard.¡± The man ran a finger under his nose, stroking his mustache while his lined face frowned at the building he¡¯d parked next to. ¡°Demons don¡¯t make friends.¡± ¡±Yeah, well, I didn¡¯t say demons, did I?¡± James snapped back, trying to keep from actually scowling and maybe not quite succeeding. His side hurt from where he¡¯d been stabbed, and there was a faint ache across his legs and shoulders as his Endurance let the consequences of his activity come flooding in, having decided that it had held the problem off for long enough. James needed an exercise potion, and a handful of blue orbs, and maybe some ibuprofen. He needed to hug Arrush and text his other partners. But also, he needed answers. ¡±I¡¯m armed.¡± Becker told him. ¡°Just in case.¡± ¡±Whatever man.¡± James rolled out of the seat and stepped neatly onto the strip of pointless lush lawn casually wasting water, heading for the door and finally turning off his skulljack sensory broadcast. ¡°Hey gang. Where¡¯s our prisoner?¡± He announced himself as he strode through the door, leaving it open behind him for his ride to follow if the older man wanted. The sound of padding footsteps was all the warning he got before he saw Arrush roll over the back of the couch in the living room at the end of the entrance hallway, and charge him. The ratroach slid to a stop on the hardwood floor just in front of him, favoring one leg as he rose to his full height and looked down at James. One of his small paws, from the arm that jutted out just above his hip, clumsily took one of James¡¯ hands. Folding fingers open so that his other paw could come around and drop a pair of blue orbs into it, and then fold James¡¯ hand back up. James smiled through the whole production, happily accepting the offered magic. [+.6 Skill Ranks : Athletics - Pole Vaulting - Olympic Rules] [Problem Solved : Restocked Toothpaste] [+.6 Skill Ranks : Repair - Ceramics - Kintsugi] [Problem Solved : Medical Attention] ¡±See, I love this.¡± James said as he felt the wash of numb lack of pain around his newly stitched up wound. ¡°I love how mapping out the blue ¡®field¡¯ lets us do this. But I also hate how this feels like it¡¯s disincentivizing me from brushing my teeeeeeef!¡± He squeaked as Arrush, already knowing that the wound was closed and the pain muffled, wrapped James in four of his five limbs and squeezed him into a hug. It took a moment for James to realize that Arrush was vibrating in the way he did when he was suppressing his own fear. One of his chitin plates was moving at just the right angle to feel like it was sanding down the skin on James¡¯ arm. ¡°Why?¡± Arrush asked him abruptly. ¡±Why what?¡± James said, gently shifting Arrush so that he wasn¡¯t being ablated. ¡°Yuh¡­ hu¡­ you¡­¡± Arrush took short, harsh breaths, and James realized that he¡¯d clearly misjudged how upset Arrush was. ¡°You let yourself get hurt. For someone who hurt you. Wh-why?¡± James tightened his own grip on Arrush as he leaned into the hug. ¡°¡­can I tell you later?¡± He said quietly, working hard to keep his voice steady as he heard boots clomping on the entryway behind him and felt Arrush¡¯s body shift as he watched the newest arrival. ¡±Huh. Ain¡¯t that some shit.¡± Becker said as he appraised Arrush carefully. ¡°It¡¯s not gonna bite me, is it?¡± ¡±Th-thinking about it now.¡± Arrush said with an irritated rasp. James pulled back, placing a small kiss on the smooth line of chitin on Arrush¡¯s muzzle, mindful that there wasn¡¯t anything that would be corrosive there first, before moving past him. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s talk. Is everyone else here?¡± He asked as he moved past the door to the basement staircase and into the living room. They weren¡¯t. Yin and Myles were absent. As was the teenager James had assumed would be here. Alice, Charlie, and Dance were all present though, with even the impulsive younger girl sitting with them around the table and carefully updating their information on what was going on. Or maybe just scowling in unison at the map. Watching a camraconda scowl was actually really funny to James; it was clear that it wasn¡¯t a natural expression for their species, but Dance was intentionally or not mimicking the humans around her. Charlie glanced up as he walked in. ¡°Good, you¡¯re back. The rogues took the other guy to the hospital. I don¡¯t think we¡¯re getting any answers out of that one, so it¡¯s good you brought someone else back.¡± He stood up and moved with his rapid precise steps to offer a handshake to the newcomer who had switched to suspiciously eying the camraconda. ¡°Charlie. Nominally in charge of this operation. Appreciate you giving our paladin a lift.¡± If he were feeling better, James would take a more active role in what was going on. But for now, he stood back and let the deception happen. Becker might have helped him, but they still couldn¡¯t trust the guy just because they knew about one of lies. So, misdirection of a sort. Downplay James¡¯ role, redirect focus to Charlie, who actually was in charge here even if it felt weird to highlight it. The Order did use command structures for dire situations, but even here and now, where they had time to talk things out and come to consensus, they didn¡¯t really rely on them. The main thing was, James wanted this guy to see him as lower on the ladder. Because, as he¡¯d learned from his ongoing weaponized social practice with JP and from a few select skill ranks, that kind of relationship could act as a pry bar to get at people¡¯s juicy secrets. Again, it wasn¡¯t even that much of a lie; it was just a small twist on the truth that they would iron out later if it came to that. ¡±Becker. My pleasure on the ride. Anything that throws a wrench in someone else¡¯s plans is a pleasant night out.¡± The man looked around the house¡¯s open main floor, thick neck craning as he especially focused on Dance at the end of the table with her mechanical arms gently dragging a sharpie across a map. ¡°Want to tell me what this operation is?¡± Charlie nodded once tightly, and shared what they¡¯d agreed to share. ¡°We¡¯re a team from a larger out of state organization.¡± He said, and James noted how Becker tightened up slightly even if he kept his outward expression flat. ¡°A while back, we had an encounter with a hostile group in this state, that led to us temporarily evacuating a few young people for their safety. One week later, we returned them to their families. However when we performed a followup check on their safety, we found they were missing.¡± Charlie¡¯s clinical breakdown, with his precise technical voice, did a lot to mask the fact that he didn¡¯t explain what organization they were from. ¡°We¡¯re here to investigate, to determine if there¡¯s something sinister going on, and to stop it if we need to.¡± Becker pointed a calloused finger at Dance before jutting a thumb back at Arrush. ¡°And these things?¡± ¡±Hi, you fucking asshole.¡± Dance spoke up, narrowing her lens at the man. ¡°Oh wait, we¡¯re supposed to be making friends with it! Sorry, pretend I said something nice to justify my existence.¡± She looked back down at the map, ¡®muttering¡¯ a perfectly audible and clear ¡°Dickhead¡± as she did so. Alice leaned over to whisper something about how she really wasn¡¯t supposed to swear like that, but this was a special case. ¡±Before this gets out of hand.¡± James cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the man whose face was rapidly turning beet red. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna set some ground rules, cause you weren¡¯t listening to me in the car, but maybe you will now. Everyone here is a person. Yes, some of us look different. I¡¯m sure you can put on your big boy pants and work through the confusion long enough to cope for a day or two.¡± James crossed his arms. ¡°You clearly know there¡¯s some weird stuff out there, if you¡¯ve figured out bespoke paintball mixes for fighting demons, and it¡¯s not like people go around impersonating high ranking officials for fun. So stop being an asshole. Especially since it feels like you¡¯re being an asshole just to see what happens.¡± Becker gave James an unpleasant smile. ¡°Heh. Okay kid.¡± He said. ¡±Don¡¯t people who call you kid have a shockingly low survival rate?¡± Dance commented with perfectly faked curiosity. ¡±Yeah, that one might be a curse. Be on the lookout for that I guess.¡± James moved to the arm of the couch, and let himself fall backward, regretting the dramatic flop rather painfully as his magically affixed stitches tugged. ¡°Look. Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it. I think we¡¯d all also appreciate some information, because it¡¯s obvious you know a little more about what the hell is happening here.¡± ¡±Oh, I know a lot about what¡¯s happening here.¡± Becker nodded. ¡°But I have an important question first.¡± James pressed his eyes closed as Arrush sat down on the couch by his head, the cushion sinking and ruining his positioning for a moment before he shifted. He had a grim feeling that he knew what the man was going to say. Not, like, a sense of dread exactly. Just a depressed notion that he saw where this was going. Alice, who had mostly kept in the background for the conversation, sighed as loudly as James was feeling. ¡°I forgot.¡± She said, idly fiddling with her bangs, twisting the hair between two fingers. ¡°I got so used to a social circle that¡¯s all Recovery and ratroaches that I forgot.¡± ¡±What?¡± Becker looked confused. ¡±Oh, sorry, go ahead. What¡¯s the question?¡± Alice went back to look at the map, showing something to Dance on her phone and pointing to a house that the camraconda made a mark by. Becker narrowed his eyes, suspicion and discomfort with the situation on full display. Neither James nor Charlie missed that he had kept himself by the entry hall and the easiest path to an exit, or that he had made good on his promise to keep himself armed. But James didn¡¯t think he was all asshole, and he did owe the guy for helping him draw off the demon assault and giving him a non-telepad escape route. Actually, James really owed him for that, because as he reflexively checked, he found his telepad had gotten stabbed too at some point, and he was walking around with a blue orb. His backup was still in place and safe, but it didn¡¯t have a destination written in. Oversight on his part. He¡¯d do better next time. ¡±What¡¯s in it for me?¡± Becker eventually asked. James gave a tiny fist pump and a soft ¡°Yessss¡±, covered by the back of the couch and kind of just feeling insufferable about guessing correctly. Alice just snorted, and slapped a hand onto Dance¡¯s face in a way that wouldn¡¯t actually stop the girl from saying anything, but was more of a symbolic gesture. Fortunately, Charlie was the one guiding this conversation, so James just had to pay attention while trying not to doze off. ¡°For one thing, information.¡± He said. ¡°You might know more, but it¡¯s a safe bet we don¡¯t know the same things. We¡¯re willing to share secrets, on a couple conditions. But more importantly, if our goals align, you get help. Even if they don¡¯t perfectly line up, we would owe you a favor, and mutual assistance is a foundational tenet of our group.¡± ¡±And what if I¡¯m just here to get paid and get out?¡± ¡±Then we¡¯ll pay you, and you can get out.¡± Charlie said with his smoothly neutral voice. Neither snarky like James would have been nor judgmental like Dance or Alice would have come across. Just a simple transaction. ¡°There¡¯s no issue with that.¡± ¡±What if I want to get paid a lot?¡± Becker gave another unpleasant smile. It wasn¡¯t how he looked, exactly, it was just the way it came across as rude. Like he was taunting on purpose. ¡±You will at some point need to give a concrete number.¡± Charlie said, not breaking eye contact or reacting much. ¡°Thirty million.¡± ¡°No.¡± While Charlie¡¯s reply was perfectly reasonable, for this James felt compelled to chime in. ¡°No and go fuck yourself!¡± He called from his position laying sprawled on the couch¡¯s fake leather, hoping his blood didn¡¯t get on it through the dressing. He barely heard Dance complaining to Alice, ¡°He gets to swear. Let me swear.¡± Alice¡¯s reply of ¡°When you¡¯re thirty years old and have proper antidepressants you can swear too.¡± Didn¡¯t really make James feel confident in her parenting style, but he genuinely looked forward now to knowing what a camraconda would be like when they hit their late twenties early thirties. ¡°Thirty million is unreasonable.¡± Charlie said, more directly addressing Becker. ¡°Why that much?¡± Becker started laughing. A wheezing belly laugh, the first real sound of mirth that James had heard from him since first meeting him over someone else¡¯s desk in a police department. ¡°Because that¡¯s what I¡¯m here to take.¡± He said, making a decision and walking past Charlie to drag one of the chairs at the kitchen table out to take a seat in, wood creaking under his bulky frame. ¡°That¡¯s how much, mostly in gold, is kept in the vault of the Sagebrush North Utah Stake Center. That¡¯s what I¡¯m here for. So if you don¡¯t care about cash, that¡¯s what you¡¯ll pay me for my help.¡± ¡°¡­Ugh.¡± James grunted as he dragged himself up, poking his head over the back of the couch and trying not to knee Arrush in the stomach as he did so. ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s¡­ three quarters of a ton of gold? How, and I¡¯m not knocking your physical ability here, but how were you planning to steal that?¡± ¡±Why do you just know that weight off the top of your head?¡± Becker raised an eyebrow at him. ¡±Reasons.¡± James didn¡¯t want to talk about replicator logistics. ¡°Do you have a bag of holding? I¡¯ll just fucking give you $30 million for a bag of holding.¡± ¡±What. Really?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Charlie said, again with his reasonable and calm voice. ¡°It¡¯s on our acquisition list. We have¡­ a significant budget for specific items.¡± ¡±Well, I don¡¯t. I only partly know what you¡¯re even talking about. What I was planning doesn¡¯t matter, because that¡¯s for me to know.¡± Becker drummed fingers on the table, tugging a corner of one of their maps before Alice pulled it back and pinned him with a flatly unimpressed look. ¡°What do you want to know? Let¡¯s work something out.¡± They had a list of gaps they needed to fill in, but Charlie started small. Relatively. ¡°The things you¡¯re calling demons. What¡¯s up with that?¡± ¡±What¡¯s up with that.¡± Becker repeated in a mocking voice. ¡°Well, it turns out, monsters are real. But I bet you all knew that.¡± ¡±Biting you is still an option.¡± Dance reminded him. Charlie flicked a hand in her direction in a signaling motion, and she settled down. ¡°We¡¯re aware of the existence of magic. Which I assume you have, though you¡¯re feigning ignorance of. You impersonated a police captain in the middle of a police station. That¡¯s not something you can do without some form of mental manipulation. Why do you know enough about these creatures to be fighting them.¡± Becker appraised the other man, then shook his head with a frown, turning to stare out the darkened window. ¡°You know I¡¯m from around here?¡± He asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. ¡°My brother and I grew up about thirty miles away. Raised as proper Mormon cultists. I got out.¡± He grunted, shaking his head again. ¡°Best thing I ever did for myself. Left for twenty years, never heard from any of the parasites in my family again. Still missed my brother though, and a few years back, I was in the area, so I dropped by. Reconnected. Met his kid.¡± He looked up at Charlie, meeting the calm man¡¯s eyes. ¡°I was the cool uncle. Sister in law hated it. I got to swoop in and be a terrible influence, and the kid loved it. Hell, I did too.¡± ¡±I can appreciate that.¡± Charlie nodded. ¡°Getting yourself out of a bad situation isn¡¯t easy. But how does this relate?¡± ¡±I¡¯m getting to it, hold your horses.¡± Becker grumbled, some of the thin smile slipping away. ¡°Anyway. Last year, the kid calls me up. He says he needs help. Says he can¡¯t fight his demons anymore.¡± Charlie nodded. ¡°And it wasn¡¯t a metaphor.¡± He prompted. ¡±No it surely was not.¡± Becker sighed theatrically. ¡°So I finished up my job, and came running. And the boy was already gone. Not dead, as far as anyone knows. Just missing. For eight months now.¡± He looked down at the back of his hand, thick fingers still tapping out arhythmically on the tabletop. ¡°So your search isn¡¯t the first one.¡± ¡±Okay, hang on.¡± James held up a hand. ¡°How does this get to you robbing a church?¡± ¡±My turn for a question first.¡± Becker said, pointing at James. ¡°What were you doing that drew out a hunt like that?¡± ¡±Stalking kids that had spells.¡± James said honestly. ¡°Trying to figure out where they got the magic, and why they were so afraid of exactly what happened. Though I¡¯ll tell you this right now; they seemed surprised by it. Like it was off schedule? And also they thought it was for me.¡± ¡±Probably was, in a way. I¡¯ve seen this tactic before, when someone comes snooping. A disgraced fed saying crazy shit and two dead kids gets buried. Keeps investigations from starting.¡± Becker looked toward the kitchen. ¡°Got anything to drink?¡± He asked suddenly. ¡±Yeah, sure.¡± Alice stood up to grab him something, picking up her glasses off the windowsill and putting them on as she went into the kitchen, rattling off options until the man settled on a can of carbonated coffee. Charlie picked up the questions as Becker popped open the drink and took a swig before giving a disproving frown at the can in his hand. ¡°Why do so many people in this city casually have magic.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not casual.¡± Becker said sharply. ¡°It¡¯s calculated. Everyone with the magic draws out more demons on a schedule, so they regulate it. Any rewards are confiscated. And that time it takes to equip the spells? Every hour of these kid¡¯s lives is accounted for. They have exactly long enough to use the ones they¡¯re told. And from there, it¡¯s self-reinforcing.¡± ¡±How¡­ so?¡± James asked, worried. ¡±Because one of the spells makes you firmly believe the next thing you say.¡± Becker answered grimly, leaving his drink on the table. Next to James, Arrush curled his legs up on the couch, wrapping his bifurcated tail around his paws as he did so. ¡°Oh.¡± The ratroach said, itching sharply at the lines between fur and chitin on his neck. ¡°This is¡­ familiar.¡± His array of eyes flicked around the room, sliding past James who was watching him with worry. ¡°I don¡¯t like this.¡± He whispered as James scooted closer to offer him what comfort he could. ¡±Yeah, big cult energy here. Hey, I know I¡¯m gonna regret this, but who is they?¡± James asked. ¡°And don¡¯t just say ¡®Mormons¡¯, cause that¡¯s gonna complicate everything.¡± ¡±Mormons.¡± Becker said, relishing complicating things. ¡°Though so far, it seems limited to North and South Smiths, and maybe a little of the north edge of Salt Lake City. This isn¡¯t church doctrine, unless they changed a lot since I got physically out. This is a schism that no one knows happened yet.¡± He paused, then added, ¡°Not that it matters.¡± ¡°And the other people with magic?¡± Charlie asked. ¡°Because that same type of it shows up in some odd places.¡± ¡±Either they¡¯re adults who are taking advantage of the situation, or kids who are sneaking it by.¡± Becker chuckled mirthlessly. ¡°I remember being that age. We weren¡¯t all stupid, even the believers. And they made their own problem here, even if this is a little bigger than importing black market Mountain Dew.¡± James nodded. ¡°I can already see how this backfires. You make kids into fanatics, who have special powers, and what you end up with are fanatics that take the initiative.¡± ¡±Bingo.¡± ¡±Cool. So how the fuck does this turn into a church heist?¡± James tried to square that nonsense with everything else they were being told. Becker flicked a finger on the rim of his coffee can with a metal plink. ¡°Because I can¡¯t find my nephew.¡± He said. ¡°I can¡¯t find my brother. I can¡¯t fix this, and I can¡¯t put things right. I wasn¡¯t fast enough.¡± He ground his teeth together, cutting off the line of thought as he clearly felt like he was saying too much, before he looked up and met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°So I¡¯m going to hurt these assholes and their toxic little cult, and I¡¯m going to smile while I get rich on their misery.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Charlie had turned to face Becker, but he wasn¡¯t the kind of guy who paced or shifted while he spoke. ¡°We can work together. The money isn¡¯t an issue for us, but I think by the end of this, we¡¯re going to end up accomplishing your goal regardless.¡± ¡±No.¡± Becker shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m working alone on this. Questions, that¡¯s one thing. And I¡¯ll tell you more of what I know, too. But I don¡¯t know you or your people. I¡¯m not trusting you with my life. And it is my life here. Mine and my nephew¡¯s maybe. Maybe you play hero and end up saving the day, okay, I¡¯ll shake your hand and wish you the best for it. But there¡¯s five of you, I don¡¯t think you have any backers, and I think I¡¯d rather do things my way.¡± ¡±Fair enough.¡± Charlie said. ¡±Stupid, but we¡¯re not gonna conscript you.¡± Alice added. ¡°Can you tell us what you know about the demons, at least?¡± Becker gave her a rippling nod. ¡°Sure thing girlie.¡± Alice bristled but didn¡¯t stop him talking. ¡°If anyone has the magic, it makes the things. They show up in random places, and start hunting; seems like about once a week. The temple locks up the kids every time it happens, and harvests the monsters. Plays it off like it¡¯s half party half ritual.¡± ¡±The demons are useful?¡± Charlie asked. ¡±Sometimes. The ones tonight, they¡¯re¡­ nothing, really. Swarms are a problem, but they can¡¯t fight worth a damn. Almost never leave anything behind, and when they do it¡¯s weak. But the bigger ones, the worse ones, their bodies turn into more magic. And that¡¯s what the leadership takes, takes their cut of, then passes out as part of their new control system.¡± Becker sounded pissed as he spoke. More than before, more like this was personal. James almost empathized. ¡°Are the demons people? I know you¡¯re the wrong person to ask here, but¡­¡± ¡±Th-the ones tonight didn¡¯t want to talk.¡± Arrush said. ¡°But¡­ that doesn¡¯t mean¡­¡± ¡±They might be people.¡± Becker snorted. ¡°Who cares? People can be monsters too.¡± ¡±Fair enough.¡± Charlie echoed his earlier words. ¡°How big do they get?¡± ¡±Big. House sized big.¡± James winced. ¡±Fuck, that¡¯s new.¡± He wasn¡¯t in the kaiju fighting business. He hadn¡¯t even brought his mech along. ¡±I could fight a house.¡± Arrush said confidently, and James¡¯ concern mixed with an amused smile as he rubbed a hand down the ratroach¡¯s neck, getting a surprised rapid clicking from Arrush. Becker watched the byplay with narrowed eyes. ¡°The books, the ones that let you strap spells to your soul or whatever you hippies want to call it, I¡¯ve never seen one show up, just stolen them, so those are less common. The useful ones anyway. Most of them are pointless. I¡¯ve got a few in a safe stash, but who the hell needs magic to see normally out of one eye, or to clean grout?¡± ¡±I¡¯m not gonna lie to you, that second one sounds amazing.¡± James said. He¡¯d worked enough jobs that required deep cleaning tile walls or floors that he was prepared to¡­ well, not kill for that spell, but at least negotiate for it. ¡°We could maybe make a trade for that one.¡± ¡±Trade what?¡± Becker sounded curious. ¡±Money.¡± Charlie answered instantly. ¡°Fifty thousand, clean, cash. That¡¯s the maximum offer we have for ¡®cantrip¡¯ class objects like that.¡± Becker considered it, wiping the back of his hand against one of his cheeks. ¡°It¡¯s not a vault full of gold, but it¡¯s something.¡± He said. ¡°We¡¯ll talk later. Not tomorrow, but soon.¡± He stood up slowly, and Charlie handed him a piece of paper. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± ¡±A series of phone numbers and email addresses.¡± Charlie said plainly. ¡°So we can talk. Later.¡± Goodbye was abrupt. Becker took the page, didn¡¯t bother to confirm any of it, and just looked around the room before moving toward the front door. ¡°It¡¯s been fun.¡± He said. ¡°But I have places to be, and you feel like you¡¯re more trouble than you¡¯re worth.¡± ¡±Agreed.¡± James said with a laugh. ¡°But hey. Thanks for the ride, really. You¡¯re an asshole, but you¡¯re not evil. And I appreciate that.¡± ¡±Yeah, same to you, brat.¡± Becker gave James a lopsided flash of a smile, before he let himself out, calling back that he¡¯d be in touch. Charlie shut the front door after him, locked it, and silently went back into the living room. Looking around at the others, he shook his head in disappointment before crouching and pulling the small audio bug that Becker had left attached to the table off, and dumping it into the sink. The garbage disposal protested for a minute, but eventually solved the problem. ¡±Any others?¡± He asked. They took some time checking everything the man had touched, but found nothing. Which didn¡¯t mean they¡¯d trust anything, just yet, but it didn¡¯t seem likely they were still being snooped on. ¡°Okay. Alice?¡± Alice set the glasses back on the table, shaking her head. ¡°Martin Lionel.¡± She said, sliding the Office item that provided names and ranks away from herself. ¡°Job title of ¡®spirited brother¡¯, and he¡¯s part of something called the Seventeen Impressive Bastards. Which I take offense to.¡± ¡±Because swearing is wrong?¡± Dance asked sarcastically. ¡±Because that was not impressive.¡± Alice told her adopted sort-of-daughter. The woman dragged a hand across the side of her face, briefly revealing a thick white scar on her neck before fiddling with her hairclip put everything back in order. ¡°Ugh. I hate this.¡± She announced. James gave her a sympathetic look from his spot on the couch. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be¡­ that.¡± ¡±I mean¡­ okay, yeah, that guy seems like a tool. But I mean the whole situation. I don¡¯t like the fighting.¡± Alice looked up at Charlie, who met her eyes briefly before giving her a nod. ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight demons. I¡¯m not a delver, I¡¯m¡­ Charlie what are we?¡± ¡±Scouts, but we¡¯re also delvers. You liked the Climb delve we did.¡± He pointed out. Though before Alice could come up with an argument about that, or rightly point out that they had spent that delve doing more spelunking than fighting, Charlie got back to the point. ¡°How much of what he just said do we think we can trust?¡± James made a noise between a groan and a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m skeptical of most of it.¡± He admitted. ¡°It¡­ seems like the perfect story. Which makes it suspicious. He just happens to be a cultural outsider with a grudge against an established power structure, and they happen to have both some nefarious plots and also a literal ton of gold? If you wanted to come up with a fantastic story for us specifically that hits a lot of the notes that would get you on our good side.¡± The camraconda at the kitchen table arched herself backward, starting at the ceiling with her lens unfocused. ¡°It makes me want to help him and I think he¡¯s a jerk!¡± She told them all. ¡°You think he cold read us?¡± Alice asked. Next to James, Arrush shifted as he refrained from asking, afraid of interrupting. ¡°Cold reading means he took a shot in the dark, then adapted based on our reactions.¡± James answered the unspoken question. ¡°And I dunno. But he¡¯s obviously holding back a lot. And that organization name? Love it, really do, but that could be anything from a group of friends that get together on saturdays to go fishing, to an actual organization of gentleman thieves.¡± ¡±Why¡¯s it gentleman thieves and not gentlewoman thieves?¡± Dance asked, still staring at the ceiling, and not operating under the same shy restrictions on questions that Arrush was. ¡±Sexism.¡± Alice answered her flatly. ¡°So what can we trust? Demons, indoctrination, loot drops, anything?¡± ¡±We don¡¯t have sufficient evidence to answer any of those.¡± Charlie said with a frown, and was about to say more, before he stopped. Arrush had held up one of his claws like he wanted to speak, and his smaller left arm was rifling through the pouch pocket of his hoodie. After untangling a claw from where it had gotten caught on the fabric, Arrush carefully set a handful of copper coins, one of them shot through the middle with a slash of glittering red, on the back of the couch. ¡°Okay, we now have sufficient evidence for one of those.¡± James picked up one of the coins. The copper ones were the same as the recovered level one spell slot coins, but the one with the scar of ruby through it was¡­ odd. He really wanted to use it, in defiance of the Order¡¯s policy of copying new stuff before breaking it. But he¡¯d written that policy for a reason, so he held off. ¡°How do you have four of these? None of my demons¡­¡± James cleared his throat, ¡°okay nevermind, I maybe have shot a lot of them and not checked. But he did say the drop rate was low for these things?¡± Arrush nodded carefully, wiping at his mouth with a frayed hoodie sleeve. ¡°One in¡­ six? One in seven maybe? Counting is hard in a fight. Ah-Anesh is trying to teach us percentages, but I don¡¯t know this one.¡± He closed his eyes, muzzle pulling tight as he focused. ¡°Fffffffifteen?¡± He asked, the drawn out word accidentally dripping corrosive saliva on the couch that he frantically moved to swipe away. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡±Close, yes.¡± Charlie nodded. ¡°Sixteen point six repeating.¡± He ignored Arrush¡¯s unhappy look that apparently numbers had more layers to them, just as Charlie ignored the hissing sound on the couch pleather. ¡°That¡¯s not that-¡° ¡±Sorry, wait.¡± James cut in. ¡°How¡­ many did you have to fight?¡± He asked, suddenly terrified. ¡°Because I only took out¡­ uh¡­ not that many.¡± Arrush looked away, curling in on himself. ¡°S-sorry.¡± He whispered. ¡±No, I mean, I¡¯m just worried!¡± James told him. He bit his own tongue before he kept talking, realizing in time he was about to make a joke about Arrush being terrifying, and exercising his executive override on his mouth to stop that now before he made his ratroach boyfriend feel worse. But¡­ that was terrifying, in an impressive way. One in six? That meant that between the park and the car, Arrush had cut through at least twenty four of the demonic swan things, and still had enough time to pick up the coins. It was, in a deliberate way, easy for James to forget that Arrush had originally been made and shaped as a weapon. The big guy just didn¡¯t feel dangerous whenever he was around James. Or didn¡¯t feel dangerous to James anyway; he just felt¡­ like he needed a hug, constantly. But if nothing else, he was still a delver with the Order, and you didn¡¯t get to do that without a certain level of competence. ¡±Okay. So we can confirm the creatures drop magic as physical objects.¡± Charlie pressed on like he was unaffected. ¡°It seems likely that he is either lying or incorrect regarding the demons. Oh, are we going with that as a name?¡± James and Alice made unified ¡°Eugh¡± sounds, while Dance just cut in more vocally. ¡°He was sorta talking about different species, and called them all demons.¡± She said as she finally decided to stop stretching and whipped her long body around to face the others. ¡°He¡¯s saying ¡®nonhuman¡¯ or ¡®dungeonite¡¯. Also he¡¯s stupid and we shouldn¡¯t listen to him.¡± ¡±Strong points.¡± Charlie conceded as Alice, now pacing around behind the table, leaned over Dance to give the girl a supporting hug. ¡°It¡¯s been months since we brought back the retrieved books and coins to the Lair.¡± He continued his prior sentence smoothly. ¡°Unless the entities are coming from the dungeon entrance directly, then they do not spawn in reaction to casters. Especially now that testing has uncovered the second layer, and also medical is employing the charm river spell on a regular basis for Kalik.¡± ¡±Oh!¡± James perked up. ¡°Our frog dog friend picked a name?¡± ¡±I helped.¡± Arrush said, still curled up, but with a satisfied tinge to his hissed words. He¡¯d mostly just given emotional support, and explained why he and Keeka had picked their own names - the sounds were easy to make in a way that didn¡¯t draw hostile attention. Now that they didn¡¯t have to worry about that, though, they¡¯d sort of mutated into something that humans and camracondas pronounced like words; different than they originally were, but not bad. Kalik had taken that as a challenge, and named himself something that required a small amount of ability to croak, which Arrush suspected would be difficult for most people. ¡±Very cool. So, this leaves two questions.¡± James ticked off on his fingers. ¡°One; how much is this actually tangled up in the church? Because if this is something that is working at a larger scale, that means¡­ somehow¡­ they¡¯re coping with the field effect, or the local memeplexes, or whatever it is that makes this not happen. And two; why are there spellbooks hidden at the library? Because that is somewhere outside of church control - at least I hope it is - so that means there¡¯s a third party in this. Or¡­ okay, three; how many parties are there? We¡¯ve got us, Becker and his hypothetical bastards¡­. I¡¯m adding a four, too, which is, did any of these people know about the Guild of Alchemists? They were around here. Did the bonsai tree come from this dungeon? That¡¯s five, I guess. I lied when I said two.¡± Charlie tapped a pair of fingers on his arm as he thought. ¡°We did see your encounter with Jeff and Scott. The two of them used heavily religious language that outlines a hostile living environment. When talking to you about Emma and Liam, they alluded to what seems to be imprisonment. We can¡¯t jump to conclusions, but it¡¯s possible our missing people are from a secondary faction that is resisting the main body.¡± ¡±That¡¯s a leap.¡± Alice laughed. ¡°I love how you keep telling us we don¡¯t have enough data, and then whenever you make a hypothesis it¡¯s ¡®what if there was a secret civil war¡¯. This is great. I love working with you.¡± Dance wiggled in Alice¡¯s arms, turning slightly in her chair to try to look at the woman. ¡°I thought that was why he said that! Cause he says stupid shit if he doesn¡¯t hold back!¡± ¡±Stop-¡° ¡±Swearing. No.¡± Dance tugged forward and looked at the dual maps on the table. ¡°How do church work?¡± She asked. ¡°Do they know everything their people do?¡± James snorted. ¡°Usually not, no. Even if some of them probably want to. Why?¡± ¡±If Charlie¡¯s making guesses, I will too! I bet there¡¯s two different groups doing the kidnappings, and they¡¯re using each other as cover!¡± Dance proclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s what I do when I want to steal ice cream. Find someone else stealing ice cream, and then you¡¯re each other¡¯s alibis!¡± ¡±¡­I¡¯m learning a lot about why our freezer is never stocked properly.¡± Charlie said with a touch of wry humor. ¡°No more assumptions for now. What we need is to start pulling threads, which means we need Myles and Yin back here, and¡­¡± he stopped talking, raising his eyebrows expectantly at James as James¡¯ phone started ringing. ¡°Go ahead, I¡¯m comfortable with convenient timing.¡± He offered. James laughed. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s probably spam or¡­ oh, no, it¡¯s Myles.¡± He answered. ¡°Good timing, we were¡­ oh? Okay, good. Good, good. Yeah.¡± Everyone else got quiet as they watched him, waiting for any kind of tidbits. ¡°Well shit, that¡¯s not good. Yeah, it¡¯ll slow us down but not by much, since¡­ I mean, telepads. It makes sense. Oh, can you or Yin drop by and grab a thing to take to the copier beforehand? Yeah. No, it wasn¡¯t me this time, it was Arrush. What do you mean there¡¯s two of us now? He¡¯s been here the whole¡­!¡± James sighed, and looked down at his phone as Myles hung up on him. Then looked up to see four expectant gazes on him. ¡°What?¡± ¡±What do you mean, ¡®what¡¯?¡± Alice demanded. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡±Myles and Yin dropped the kid off at the ER, and got in some trouble over it. Which is to say, there¡¯s warrants out for their arrest for attempted murder. So that¡¯s an issue.¡± He sank down on the couch, laying his legs over Arrush¡¯s lap and letting the leather cushions sap away the tension in his shoulders. ¡°They¡¯re going to swap out with another pair of rogues, so we¡¯ll have a little delay on that help. And this is more evidence that there¡¯s some kind of actual superstition level bad luck in play.¡± He chuckled bitterly. ¡°Anyway, Yin¡¯s gonna be here in a few minutes to pick up the coin and get out of here so she doesn¡¯t get arrested again.¡± Charlie crossed his arms. ¡°Annoying setback.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not that bad.¡± James commented. ¡°To go off what you said earlier, I think we should prioritize looking into the spellbooks. Figure out where the uncontrolled or underground ones are coming from, and work backward from there. Because that¡¯s more likely to put us near people who are gonna align with us, right?¡± Alice nodded rapidly. ¡±Right.¡± She grinned. ¡°And then we can steal them!¡± ¡±I thought we weren¡¯t stealing magic from people.¡± Dance sounded irate. ¡°You said no stealing!¡± Arrush gave a wet laugh. ¡±Sh-she means the people.¡± He said, adjusting his hoodie as he uncurled slightly to speak. ¡°It¡¯s how James makes friends.¡± ¡±It¡¯s how we make friends, comrade!¡± James corrected with a beaming grin. ¡°Also I¡¯m not gonna steal them.¡± Or at least, that wasn¡¯t what his ideal outcome was. But his ideal was a pipe dream when all they had to go on was the maybe-presence of a small group of semi-secret wizards. In a perfect world, James would find within them kindred spirits, and a place to begin long term Order operations in the area. A second seed planted, and a backup for their ideals and knowledge and power, should it be needed. It was the kind of thing they had on the list of stuff to do anyway, but there was a certain kind of rapid action that came about in the aftermath of a crisis that James felt made the process smoother. More chaotic, sure, but also people were a lot more willing to hear out your weird ideas for humanity - for life on Earth, he corrected his thoughts - when you¡¯d just saved their lives. The good news was that James was good at saving lives. He had a lot of practice. Which sorta meant he was uniquely suited to being a paladin, because he couldn¡¯t put most of his experience on a resume and expect to be taken seriously. Charlie¡¯s mouth twitched into a frown. ¡°The annoying part of the setback is that we won¡¯t get answers from the kids. At least, not those two. If they¡¯re in the hospital, they¡¯re going to be under observation, we can¡¯t risk that. What happened to the others Zhu was tracking?¡± ¡°Not sure.¡± James matched the frown from his low vantage point. ¡°We were planning on going for the next one after our conversation, but¡­¡± ¡±Demons!¡± Dance declared happily. ¡°Hey, dude, you know you¡¯re allowed to go outside without starting fights, right? ¡±I blame Zhu.¡± James felt comfortable with that, since Zhu was still resting after exerting himself, and couldn¡¯t argue. Somewhere deep in the instinctive part of his thoughts that reminded him of what building he was in and how to find his way home, a small ember of irritation flared, before settling down. If James weren¡¯t paying attention, he wouldn¡¯t have even realized that it wasn¡¯t his own thought, but he was, so he matched it with a brief playful vibe of amusement. ¡°But it¡¯s true, we need to find people to give us answers. So I¡¯m gonna double down on the books.¡± He shrugged into the couch. ¡°People are using them. Which means people have magic. Which means we can at least ask them some basics.¡± ¡±We do lack fundamentals here.¡± Charlie said. ¡°It feels like if we were investigating the Order, and we knew about absorbed blues, cracked greens, the dart gun that shoots spiders, and nothing else.¡± ¡±Well that¡¯s a terrifying thought.¡± James muttered. Silence fell for a bit, until Alice broke it. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m starving. I¡¯m gonna make some pasta. Anyone want pasta?¡± A few of them did, and she counted off how many noodles she was going to need to make for the group. ¡°We can sit here all night talking about this, but it¡¯s late, Dance has a bedtime, and we aren¡¯t getting anywhere at this point.¡± She claimed as she started looking through the pale wood of the kitchen cupboards for where the rental home hid the pots, ignoring Dance¡¯s protest about the flagrant lie regarding her mandatory sleep schedule. ¡°Did you return that book Charlie found?¡± ¡±I did not.¡± James said. ¡°Got a bit sidetracked.¡± He rolled off the couch, and by association Arrush, standing up with a pained grunt as his wound reminded him of its presence. ¡°Dammit. I want health potions.¡± He complained. ¡°But yeah, you¡¯re right. Dinner sounds good, and getting back into this tomorrow sounds better. Also, before it¡¯s too late, I need to go make a call.¡± ¡±Anything serious?¡± Charlie asked as he took Alice¡¯s chair at the table. ¡±Personal thing.¡± James smiled. ¡°Contrary to popular belief, I actually do love my partners, so I¡¯m gonna say goodnight to them because Alanna is ¡®normal¡¯ about when she sleeps.¡± ¡±T-tell Keeka I said I love him too!¡± Arrush said with subdued urgency as James moved to step out onto the house¡¯s back deck. James smiled back, giving a nod, and deciding to mention later that Arrush could totally do that himself. He was positive that Arrush and Keeka had phones, but¡­ now he wasn¡¯t so sure. Also cell phones might be a challenge for a ratroach head; their ears were not as close to their mouths as they were on humans. He¡¯d ask later tonight, after dinner and maybe a careful shower if he felt like the medical attention blue orb had spared him the need to be too careful with the stitches. Despite his habit of draping himself over various pieces of furniture, he was still kind of covered in dirt, tiny bits of bark chips, blood, and some of the weird goo that the not-demons burst into when injured. So a shower sounded nice. But first, a phone call. The night air on the back deck was windy and too bright; the surrounding street lights and houses reflecting off the thin clouds in the sky and making the world feel a little too orange. When James was a kid, he¡¯d thought this kind of light pollution had indicated that there was a distant fire; a signal of a far off disaster. Now, it just make him feel a little claustrophobic even while he was under the open sky. Though being surrounded by a copy-pasted fence that hemmed in the back yard and cordoned off the yards of the adjacent homes probably didn¡¯t help with that feeling. It took four seconds before Alanna picked up, James spending the time listening to the custom ringtone he used both for calling and being called by her, the first few notes of an instrumental version of a Franz Ferdinand song playing in his ear before the voice of someone he loved replaced it. ¡±Beaverton City Morgue, you whack ¡®em, we stack ¡®em, what can I do for ya?¡± Alanna¡¯s voice affected the worst Boston accent James had ever heard. ¡±Hi, I hear you have a special on skulls? I¡¯m doing some art and I need skulls.¡± Alanna¡¯s accent faltered. ¡°What fucking weird-ass art are you doing? You¡¯ve been gone for two days, how did you get this weird already?¡± ¡±Oh, I¡¯m making a skull-putre.¡± James said, and then waited. There was a moment of silence. It went on for a bit, his face stretched in a grin, before he realized Alanna had hung up on him. Not to be discouraged, James pushed a different button and called someone else. Anesh answered almost instantly, with a sigh. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡±Made a pun.¡± James told his boyfriend. ¡°It was a good one, too!¡± ¡±I believe you.¡± The texture of the call changed and James knew he¡¯d just been put on speakerphone. ¡°How¡¯s Utah?¡± James paused, debating whether to downplay how things were going. It wasn¡¯t so much a debate, though, as it was his brain shoving him toward reflexively lying just so no one worried about him. He swallowed that instinct, but it wasn¡¯t easy. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a bit hectic.¡± James said. ¡±Hey!¡± He heard Alanna call from presumably the other side of their apartment back home. ¡°You know Empathy works on voices, right?!¡± ¡±I do now! I was getting to the good bits.¡± James defended himself. ¡°First hostile contact today. They were¡­ actually it was hard to tell exactly, whatever jumped us killed the lights. But in the proud dungeon tradition of just mashing things together, I¡¯d say they were like swan-bat-goats?¡± ¡°Hm.¡± Anesh made a noise, and James could almost hear him stroking his chin in idle thought. ¡°I¡¯m new to this kind of thinking, but is now when I¡¯m supposed to ask if they were hot?¡± ¡±Yes!¡± Alanna declared, closer to the phone and louder now. ¡±No!¡± James answered. ¡°Which is to say, no, they weren¡¯t¡­ I mean, they could have been, but they were also uncommunicative and trying to kill me, so I¡¯m biased now. Also I don¡¯t think they¡¯re people? But I refuse to say that for certain yet.¡± Alanna¡¯s noise of disappointment was audible. ¡°You¡¯re okay though, right? You didn¡¯t get¡­ stomped? How would a goat kill someone? Jumped on?¡± ¡±They had really, really sharp beaks. Like razor drills?¡± James settled his elbows on the deck¡¯s railing, leaning out into the dim backyard as he held his phone to his ear. ¡°Arrush and I got out fine, no one else was there.¡± He heard Alanna staring to growl at him, and quickly amended the statement. ¡°I got stabbed.¡± James said the words quickly. ¡±What?!¡± Anesh¡¯s voice had the quality of a man jumping to his feet. ¡°Do you need help? We can be there-¡° ¡±I¡¯m fine.¡± James laughed. ¡°Actually fine. Between a few weird purples, my Endurance, and a couple blue orbs, I¡¯m okay. It wasn¡¯t one of the dungeon life either, it was¡­ just some kid. Just a kid.¡± He sighed, slumping forward on the wood bar he was leaning on, feeling the rough texture of the deck under his feet as he shifted around. ¡°There¡¯s some trouble going on down here. But we don¡¯t know what yet, and if you came down, you¡¯d just be sitting around doing nothing. I promise I¡¯ll tell you if I need backup.¡± Alanna sounded unconvinced. ¡°You could also tell Ben, or Nate, or Simon, or-¡° ¡±Simon¡¯s on his errancy.¡± James reminded her. ¡±James, I love you, but you made up the rules for that. You can call him back whenever you want.¡± Alanna groused. James laughed. ¡°Nope! Just because I made up the rules doesn¡¯t mean I get to change them! This isn¡¯t calvinball!¡± ¡±I don¡¯t know-¡° Anesh started. James cut in. ¡°Alanna, on the bottom of the big bookshelf in our room, left side, get Anesh all my Calvin and Hobbes comics.¡± ¡±Ooh! Yes!¡± Alanna¡¯s departure was marked by a thud as, James charitably assumed, she did some kind of sweet flip to get over the couch. ¡±So, putting aside how my night went,¡± James tried to change the subject, ¡°how¡¯re things going at home?¡± Anesh didn¡¯t sound like he wanted to let James get off that easy, but he¡¯d read the actual reports Charlie filed later. ¡°Oh, right proper, so far.¡± Anesh¡¯s familiar accent was soothing to James even over the phone, and he always wanted to smile when residual slang terms slipped into his sentences. ¡°We¡¯ve had a little¡­ a very small start yesterday. Nothing to worry about. But today¡¯s all upside! New potion tests, new Attic magic, finally got myself a Sewer Lesson, and there¡¯s an Office delve tonight that I¡¯m¡­ well, a little excited for? I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d miss it. But I do.¡± ¡±Anesh, I love you, but I knew you would miss it. You hate the fighting, not the cool places.¡± James laughed. ¡±It¡¯s true.¡± Anesh replied, and then paused. ¡°It¡¯s weird without you here, even for a little.¡± He said quietly. ¡°It reminds me of¡­¡± The quiet got louder, until James broke it. ¡°Of the Underburbs?¡± He asked. ¡°I know. But this is different. Reminds me more of Townton anyway. But we¡¯re on top of things this time. It¡¯s okay. And I¡¯ll be home before you know it with new bullshit. Oh! What Lesson did you get?¡± ¡±Math. Obviously.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice rejoined them along with the thwap of glossy paper on wood as she deposited a stack of comic books for their boyfriend. ¡°He¡¯s been really careful. Also, our adorable little partner here continues to be an outlier and cornercase.¡± Alanna said, to which Anesh sputtered. James straightened up, turning to watch through the kitchen window as Alice messed around making everyone food. ¡°What, did you make multiple copies then give each to one of yourself?¡± James asked. ¡±¡­Yes.¡± Anesh admitted. ¡±Neat! Let us know how that goes! The Sewer is weird.¡± He sighed. ¡°I wish I¡¯d known before stacking all these Lessons that it was weird in a really petty way. I feel like I¡¯m trading actual focused power for¡­ eh, this is a conversation for later.¡± ¡±Yeah, now is the time for more important conversations!¡± Alanna declared. ¡°Like, for example, how fun is it to cuddle Arrush? Anesh won¡¯t tell me how cuddling Keeka is, because he¡¯s selfish, so I¡¯m gonna bully you instead.¡± ¡±Oh, that reminds me.¡± James ignored her question entirely. ¡°Is Keeka around? Arrush wanted to tell him he loved him, and why do those two not have phones?¡± ¡±¡­Keeka has a phone?¡± Anesh sounded confused. ¡°Does Arrush not have a phone? I¡¯ll talk to Recovery tomorrow. Or maybe tonight since I¡¯m going through their building anyway.¡± James often forgot that Recovery had moved a lot of their collective operations into the building surrounding Officium Mundi. He still thought of that building as ¡®work¡¯, and not¡­ well, their building. ¡±I think we¡¯re gonna get a couple rogues swapping in tomorrow.¡± James said. ¡°Maybe send one of them down with the phone if that timeline works? I dunno. It¡¯s not a super huge deal, I just worry Arrush is doing the thing.¡± ¡±The thing you do?¡± ¡±The thing I do, yes, thank you.¡± James rolled his eyes, noticing Alice spotting him through the window and hiding a grin. ¡°Also you want scandalous gossip? Arrush elbows people in his sleep. And by people I mean me.¡± ¡±Salacious!¡± Alanna¡¯s distantly yelled word echoed across the connection. James shared a laugh with Anesh before continuing. ¡°So, what was the problem on your end?¡± He asked, suddenly curious. ¡°I haven¡¯t really had time to check in today, and if it was related to those deeply suspicious texts Alanna sent me, she never followed up on that.¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, it probably was. Cam found her sister, or visa versa, and it¡­ went. It sure went.¡± Alanna sounded quieter than normal, taking a long breath before continuing. ¡°You ever get a reminder that you¡¯re not immortal?¡± She asked. ¡±Uh¡­¡± James didn¡¯t have time to reply before she snorted loudly. ¡±Alright I realize who I¡¯m talking to.¡± Alanna said, ignoring Anesh¡¯s own small chuckle. ¡°Look, at one point, Cam got thrown through a car. Like, into the front of a car, hard enough that she damaged the engine and smashed up half the moving parts.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice held a sort of reverent dread. ¡°That was, on our reconstructed timeline, at the start of the fight? Then they kept going. A lot.¡± Anesh¡¯s own tone said that he was worried, though not to the extent Alanna was. ¡°The other daughter is in custody in Townton now. Cam¡¯s keeping an eye on her while she heals, but Nate says it¡¯s under control.¡± ¡°Well¡­ okay.¡± James didn¡¯t know what to say to that. ¡°I¡¯m gonna¡­ trust Nate? Is that really an okay place to keep a Camille?¡± ¡±Is anywhere?¡± Alanna questioned. Anesh¡¯s discomfort was obvious. ¡°The answer will not surprise you.¡± He said dryly. ¡°Oh, also, Cam has dragon wings now, and she refuses to drop them, so be ready for that. Also Keeka¡¯s been making friends with her, which is¡­ I don¡¯t know. Good, I suppose?¡± Alanna¡¯s quiet words jumped in before James could say anything. ¡°I¡¯m really glad Keeka¡¯s around.¡± She said. ¡°Oh, that also reminds me!¡± James said suddenly. ¡°You texted me about trying to not be an asshole.¡± Alanna let out a small mock scream on the other end of the phone. ¡°And as a full time accidental asshole, I just wanted to say that you can trust me to tell you if you ever say anything too mean, okay?¡± Anesh¡¯s puzzled voice cut into the conversation. ¡±I¡­ that is¡­ is that reassuring? At all?¡± ¡±Actually?¡± Alanna asked, energy bleeding back into her tone as she dug herself out of whatever den of blankets and pillows she¡¯d buried herself in ¡°Yeah. I appreciate that. A lot.¡± ¡±I could also tell you¡­¡± Anesh trailed off. ¡±Uh huh.¡± James added with a neutral dryness. ¡°It¡¯s hard. And you¡¯re not a professional asshole. You¡¯re a precious cinnamon roll who must be protected at all costs. So let Alanna and I keep each other¡¯s bullshit in check, and you can get away with literally anything.¡± ¡±I feel both comforted and patronized.¡± Anesh¡¯s English accent made him sound airily surprised. ¡±Perfect.¡± James said with a grin. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m gonna go eat and sleep. Got a long day of overthrowing a secret theocracy tomorrow. I love you two a lot, tell Keeka and Sarah I said hi, and that Arrush loves Keeka, and that¡­ uh¡­ I dunno, anything else you think is important.¡± ¡±Is it weird that we can teleport and we¡¯re still having these phone calls?¡± Alanna asked. ¡°Anyway, love you too. Hope you get some unelbowed sleep.¡± ¡±All of me also love you, but¡­ were you going to explain the theocracy thing?¡± Anesh asked, puzzled. ¡±Nope.¡± James said. ¡°See ya!¡± Hanging up felt like letting go of both a connection he felt a deep hunger for, and also a tension that built up as he socialized too much. An odd experience, but when the phone was back in his pocket, and he had some time to just enjoy the night air all by himself, he felt comforted. His partners were okay, they loved each other, and nothing was on fire without him. He had time to sort out this problem, and then more problems lined up after; a busy life, but one full of magic, where he could earn his paladin title. Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. James was used to a lot of banter and byplay, but even Dance seemed like she was too tired to be too much of a contrarian as everyone ate. It wasn¡¯t a particularly astounding meal, but pasta and a jar of store bought sauce was enough. It tasted pretty good, it was easy, and it fed the group as they quietly occupied couches or the durable cloth chairs on the back porch. James spent his time flipping through Order updates on his skulljack. Part of his brain listening to the audio of Sarah talking about small happenings and personal triumphs. And then splitting his attention to also read through the more professional proposal for medical trials on the efficacy of red orbs to treat mental health concerns, or the update on dungeontech identification for a half dozen different keyboards, or signing off on his approval for one of the ex-Alchemists officially joining the Order. Being able to casually do stuff like this while eating felt weirdly meditative to him. He was pretty sure Charlie was doing something similar, while Arrush was carefully trying to eat without getting any sauce on either himself, his clothes, or the manga he had brought to read and was keeping held open with one of his extra arms. When James realize what he was doing, he felt a deep longing for extra arms himself, to do exactly the same thing; being able to read and eat at the same time would be so comfortable, and he only half-jokingly considered adding it to his own shaper substance wishlist if he ever decided to change his own body. He made an appreciative noise as he chewed, both for the food someone else had made for him, and because there was a new potion that was being considered for production that specifically improved the health and restoration rate of bioorganic rubber. Utterly useless for almost anyone that wasn¡¯t a camraconda. But the Order had camracondas, and now they would have an option for dealing with the difficulty in slithering a two hundred pound form across asphalt sometimes, and that was great. Really, the fact that they¡¯d kept up copying the succulent pots, and the fact that the sap from them worked, had made James feel like he¡¯d just let out a tensely held breath when it came to potion nonsense. They weren¡¯t limited now. They didn¡¯t have to choose. Every day, instead of one fruit they could process into a few potions, they got ten. Fifty. A hundred. More. More and more, as growth progressed and production ramped up. Enough for testing, for mapping out effects and not just scattershot guesses, for scaling up production of potions that healed, that improved, that solved bizarre corner case problems, that let the Order¡¯s knights and researchers and rogues and friends and paladins operate at something slightly sideways and slightly above peak efficiency in their chosen fields. James wondered how far they could push it. He also, upon hearing something from Sarah¡¯s interview in the corner of his mind, drafted a quick alert to Research and the potion department to make absolutely fucking sure that no beans were allowed anywhere near the pots. And also to maybe split their growing operations into multiple sites. Quickly. Just in case. Reed got back to him quickly, and said they were on it. Apparently there were a bunch of people with a few hours to kill before a delve who were still in the Lair, so a project like this sounded like a perfect distraction. One by one, the group finished dinner. It was a little awkward to James; these were different people than he was used to, he didn¡¯t know the protocol for saying goodnight exactly. So he decided to just declare that he was escaping, yawned halfway through, got a hissing laugh out of Dance, and headed off to take a shower. Which, fortunately, he could do without melting his stitches. After scrubbing off the blood and dirt, he stepped out to cool off in the air conditioned room, feeling his temperature plummet from the blazing hot water he preferred for his showers. When he went back into the attached bedroom, though, he found Arrush sitting patiently on the end of the bed. Partly reading his book, but mostly waiting for James, since he set it aside as soon as he heard his new boyfriend coming. Arrush was tall enough that he didn¡¯t really have to tilt his head to look up at James, even from his seated position. But he did look properly nervous as he tried to meet James¡¯ eyes, knowing that James could sense the discomfort as his own human smile faded. ¡°Why?¡± Arrush asked. ¡°You said¡­ later. It¡¯s later. Why?¡± James paused in drying himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he sat down next to Arrush. Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and trying to not feel weird being mostly naked and slightly damp in an unfamiliar bedroom. He took the time to collect his thoughts, before answering Arrush¡¯s question. Why, really, had he let himself get hurt? Especially for someone who had already hurt him. ¡°The first time we brought other ratroaches out of the Sewer¡­¡± James paused just after starting, locking his eyes on one of the framed pictures of a generic beach on the shelf on the other side of the room. He took a deep breath before continuing. ¡°Back then, Keeka surprised me in the hospital.¡± Arrush stilled at the mention of his partner¡¯s name. ¡°He¡­ offered to kill them for us. Because they were going to hurt people, he said.¡± James looked down at his hands, clutched tightly together, the room quiet except for the whirr of the air conditioning for a minute. ¡°I know that you know this, but Keeka thinks he¡¯s a monster. He never stopped thinking it, I don¡¯t think. He doesn¡¯t¡­ didn¡¯t¡­¡± James paused, not sure where he was going with this. Arrush filled in the gap. ¡°He thinks¡­ he is unforgivable.¡± He rasped out, half the words coming out as sad but understanding gasps. James nodded. ¡°Right.¡± He focused on keeping his breath steady. ¡°So at the time, I¡­ wanted to show him that everything was okay. And I tried to touch him.¡± Arrush tensed up, not having heard about this. ¡°Nothing serious, just a pat on the shoulder. He bit me.¡± James chuckled, time having made the humor come easier. ¡°Deb got pissed. At me, to be clear. Cause I was doing dramatic gestures in her hospital, and because Deb is smart, she had explicitly told me to not do exactly that. Keeka¡­ I think it helped him get it, helped him understand. Sometimes we lash out, sometimes we hurt other people. That didn¡¯t make him a monster, it made him someone who needed help. I got Nate to bandage up my arm and then sat with your boyfriend while he ate apology ice cream and I hope it made him see himself a little kinder.¡± ¡°I never¡­ I didn¡¯t know.¡± Arrush turned and looked away. ¡°I thought¡­ we told each other everything. I thought there wasn¡¯t¡­ I thought he would¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s very likely Keeka doesn¡¯t want you to think that he¡¯s hurting, because he thinks that would hurt you.¡± James told him. ¡°Just like how you don¡¯t tell him about how your body hurts you. And after hearing you whimper while you sleep, let me tell you, you are not weaseling out of fixing yourself now. If I have to take care of myself, so do you.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t. You aren¡¯t. You let people hurt you.¡± Arrush countered. ¡°The¡­ Jeff? He cut you open. I can still smell your blood, you could have deh-died.¡± The ratroach curled forward, hands splayed out on the duvet around him like a stiff jellyfish. ¡°Keeka¡­ Keeka made a mistake. But you know it isn¡¯t the same.¡± He sounded angry about it. Not hot fury, just a firm insistence that something was wrong. And James understood. ¡°I made a choice to take the risk.¡± He said. ¡°Because human kids are idiots. And also because I believed that I could survive. I am¡­ surprisingly hard to kill.¡± He laughed again, more lightly this time as he shifted his posture on the end of the bed. ¡°I can get hurt, and live. I choose to let myself get hurt, to give other people a second chance. Or to help where I can. Or to put myself in the way. That¡¯s a trade I¡¯m willing to make.¡± ¡°Because you also don¡¯t think you¡¯re worth anything.¡± Arrush¡¯s whisper was part realization, part horror. ¡°Yh-you are¡­ you are¡­¡± the arms on the right side of his body came off the bed as he turned, eyes watering with bitter liquid, to envelop James in a tight grip. ¡°You¡¯re like us.¡± Arrush squeaked out. ¡°You th-hink you deserve this.¡± James didn¡¯t think that was quite correct. He was fine. He just¡­ often felt like his main value came from how much he could do to help other people. And one of his ways of helping involved his own life being at risk, and his body being damaged. Which was¡­ Exactly the thing he kept telling Arrush to stop doing. ¡°When did you get so astute?¡± He tried to say, but found the words stuck partly in his throat as he let himself be crushed against Arrush¡¯s hoodie, hard bands of chitin underneath the cloth pressing into his shoulder and cheek. He hadn¡¯t even noticed. ¡°You know what I actually miss though?¡± James said, blinking back his own hot tears. ¡°I don¡¯t even have scars from Keeka¡¯s bite anymore.¡± ¡°Why¡­¡± ¡°Skin care potion.¡± James answered. Arrush made a clicking growl. ¡°...would you miss it?¡± ¡°Oh. I just¡­ it¡¯s¡­ I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s a reminder maybe? It was a memento from doing something that maybe changed the course of what could have been. I¡¯m missing all of them now. I don¡¯t have the marks from my first strider bite, or from where I got sliced open rescuing all those people from the Office, or the first time I fought¡­ well, you, actually. Did we ever apologize for that? God, I think Sarah blew one of your limbs off at one point.¡± He was rambling and he didn¡¯t feel like he could stop himself. ¡°I don¡¯t have any scars from it either.¡± Arrush said, shuddering at the intrusive memory of how much it had hurt to lose a leg, and then force it to grow back on raw instinct with the shaper substance. ¡°Buh-but I don¡¯t need them. I¡¯m glad you don¡¯t¡­ have them. They itch.¡± James found himself smiling, even as his shoulders started shaking and he found himself unable to breathe properly. It was that simple sometimes. They itched, get rid of them. A microcosm of what he wanted Arrush to do to himself, really. Your body hurts? Fix it! And¡­ really¡­ ¡°I¡¯m trying to be better.¡± James said, the words strained. ¡°I really am. I know¡­ I know I¡¯m not exempt from the thing about people having value. I know. But that¡¯s conflicting all the time with my worry that I might value myself too highly. That I might think I¡¯m above everyone else.¡± ¡±You are.¡± Arrush said with a whisper that bordered on reverent in a way that made James deeply uncomfortable. ¡°You are¡­ better.¡± He insisted. ¡±Better is different than above.¡± James said, not caring if that sounded like nonsense. ¡°Better is more like¡­ I¡¯m ahead. Like I can help people catch up. That¡¯s fine. Above, though? Like something about what I am makes me superior? I hate that thought. It¡¯s disgusting to me. It should be to you, too, cause I think you¡¯ll see it as soon as I say it that this is how the Beautiful One thought. Thinks.¡± James sniffed, wiping the back of his arm across his eyes. ¡°I can be an expert, I can be a hero, I can be a lot of things. But I can¡¯t be more valuable than someone else. That¡¯s not a line I can cross. Ever. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to come back from that. So I refuse to do it.¡± ¡±¡­That¡¯s why you¡¯re better.¡± Arrush muttered. James paused, not sure if the ratroach was being serious or messing with him. ¡°Are you trying to cheer me up?¡± He asked. ¡±Yes. Is it working?¡± ¡±¡­Oddly? Yeah.¡± James gave a laugh that didn¡¯t quite so much threaten to devolve into a sob. He did feel better. Lighter, just a bit. ¡°This might have been a bad time for this. I¡¯m exhausted, and my brain works badly when I¡¯m tired. I shoulda followed Zhu¡¯s example and just gone to bed two hours ago.¡± ¡±In the middle of a fight?¡± Arrush asked with a chittering giggle. ¡±Exactly. The best time for it, apparently.¡± James grinned, leaning on his friend. He took a breath of processed air, wedging his head against two of Arrush¡¯s arms. ¡°I need to sleep, before anxiety takes over. Either that or spend four hours staring at my phone.¡± Arrush gently moved away from James, stood up, padded over to the nightstand with his springy steps, picked up James¡¯ phone, and then moved it to the top of a shelf on the far side of the room. ¡°No.¡± He said with what he hoped was a stern yet caring voice. Since James started laughing, it probably didn¡¯t come out that way. But it was a nice outcome anyway. ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯m gonna sleep.¡± James stood and went back to trying to remove the dampness from his skin. ¡°You should sleep too. But after you shower. You¡­ smell like goat sludge.¡± ¡±I know.¡± Arrush nodded gently, antenna bobbing and getting stuck against his hood. ¡°It smells sh-strangely pleasant.¡± ¡±¡­it smells like someone executed a coconut for treason.¡± James replied with narrowed eyes. Arrush titled his muzzle up as he grinned and went to claim the shower now that it was empty. ¡°The best smelling dungeon life so far!¡± He declared. The worst part, James thought, as he crawled into the blankets and felt his eyes getting heavy almost instantly, was that Arrush was probably correct. Chapter 289 ¡°Crises. Precipitate. Change.¡± -Deltron 3030, Virus- _____ One of the things that made Rufus¡¯ life hard was that his first human friend had gotten him interested in a card game, and now he actually wanted to play it. On the surface, this was the most petty complaint that Rufus had ever dredged up. He lived in a place where he had comfort, safety, temperature regulation, a lack of hostile tumblefeeds, and even a special ¡®walkway¡¯ for people his size down all the major hallways and an increasing number of minor ones at this point too. Despite being a non-verbal stapler with a diet limited to yellow orbs, staples, blood, and for some reason refined sugars, Rufus had a pretty good thing going here. There were even other striders around now! He was never really alone, mostly because he liked his personal time to work on whatever project he had hyperfixated on, but also because he had Ganesh or Frederick as constant companions. But now he was not alone in a way where he didn¡¯t feel like an outlier. He wasn¡¯t special. He was just¡­ another person. Another fiercely loyal member of the Order of Endless Rooms. And that suited him perfectly well. What didn¡¯t suit him well was that James had never managed to rope any of his myriad lovers into playing Magic The Gathering. And Rufus had gotten similar poor results trying to entice Ganesh. Even Fredrick, who was obsessed with abstract board games and their use as puzzles, wasn¡¯t interested. So Rufus had approached his problem the way that he approached all problems. With methodical determination, and a backup smoke bomb in case he needed it. No one who was working on the education project had wanted to play. Many of them, many people in Recovery in general, enjoyed card games of varying sorts. But Rufus didn¡¯t want to play poker, Rufus wanted to play the game that let him pretend to be a wizard. He¡¯d hoped for more luck with the younger interns, but even Morgan, the most likely to be distracted by some form of entertainment, didn¡¯t bite. Morgan said he was ¡®busy¡¯ with ¡®training¡¯, which Rufus was fairly certain meant he was playing video games. Rufus hated video games, because they were stealing his potential opponents. There was a video game version of Magic, but Rufus had a really hard time manipulating a computer at the speed needed. He was sort of planning to get a skulljack at some point, assuming they even worked for his species, but in the meantime that left him with fewer options and he was doing this to get away from his dread laptop anyway. He kept asking. Kitchen staff? Even the person who was interested was too busy today. Response? Two people who did play and were in the process of being deployed for a domestic disturbance. Research? Actually Research was probably an excellent place to find opponents, but Rufus was low key a little intimidated by their whole thing. Even though, technically, the little experimental garden that he and Fredrick tended was a part of the structure of Research. But the most dangerous thing Rufus grew was either the highlighter pods, the withered attempts at yellow orbs that only gave a tenth of a skill rank, or the thermovore vine, and none of those came close to what could go wrong with the rest of Research when they were messing up. The ratroaches, or camracondas, maybe? Other nonhumans, who could approach this game with a similar perspective as him, looking at it as part enjoyment and part archeological delve into the specific wedge of human culture that had made it. That plan almost worked. He did end up finding out that Ink-And-Key enjoyed complex fictional-setting deckbuilding games. It was just that Ink-And-Key enjoyed something called Netrunner, and Rufus lost eight minutes of his free time learning that the enormous white camraconda had somehow made a deck with only snakes in it. How that worked, and also why the game about cyberpunk hackers had snakes in it at all, Rufus wasn¡¯t quite clear on, but Ink-And-Key seemed excited about it in his own nervous way. Actually listening to him, Ink-And-Key did make the game sound rather enjoyable, so Rufus would circle back to that later. It was after hours of searching that Rufus was preparing to admit defeat. He¡¯d just failed to convince either Daniel or Pathfinder - talking to people with infomorph partners meant he could fail twice as fast at least - and was prepared to just find something to eat before going back to work finding an HVAC contractor for a building renovation. But Daniel stopped him before he left the dining table. ¡±Why don¡¯t you just ask James?¡± The human inquired. Rufus, through a mix of pen gestures and emotes from his convenient keyboard tunic, conveyed that James was in Utah, so that wasn¡¯t much of an option. ¡±No, I mean¡­¡± Daniel floundered as Path¡¯s radiant orange manifested limbs clasped her hands together in silent mirth, the eyes on them glittering as she let Daniel work through his confusion. ¡°I mean, text James, and ask him where he played. He didn¡¯t just¡­ collect cards for twenty years without anyone wanting to play with him, right?¡± Honestly Rufus had sort of assumed that was the case. James seemed like that kind of human, and after giving Daniel a long look, he got the other human to admit that James could have done that. With Daniel¡¯s willing help for the sentence syntax, Rufus got a message out to James, who sent back a mostly garbled response. And then, twenty minutes later when he¡¯d woken up properly, a corrected response where he¡¯d given Rufus an address to what he called a ¡®friendly local game store¡¯. Though he¡¯d later requested that Rufus take a friend the first time he went there. He was too late on that request. But Rufus did okay. And he didn¡¯t even have to use the backup smoke bomb in any of the interactions with the local commander players, which he felt was an impressive exertion of will. Probably the hardest thing anyone in the Order would have to do today, especially James, who as far as Rufus knew had spent the whole time asleep. _____ James woke up, replied to a text, rolled over onto Arrush to go back to sleep, got reflexively bitten, and decided that was a good time to get out of bed for real. After replying to the text for real, showering, deflecting an apology from Arrush and making him go back to sleep, taking a perfectly healthy amount of ibuprofen, taking an actually healthy amount of his antidepressant, saying good morning to an equally sleepy Zhu, and strapping his worrying amount of magical equipment to his body, James was ready for the day. He wished he was hanging out with Rufus playing Magic, but he wasn¡¯t, so he had to be ready instead. There was a lot of bullshit to do down here. _____ Over a meal of bacon and eggs that James was told was vegetarian, they worked out assignments. ¡°Okay. Alice, you¡¯re the face for your group, so-¡° ¡±We all have faces my guy.¡± Dance interrupted him, her digital voice betraying none of the slumped exhaustion that her body did as she rested the edge of her lens flat against the table¡¯s surface. ¡±It means she¡¯s your social expert.¡± James didn¡¯t want to get into the details. ¡°I¡­ assumed? Charlie, do you want to do the subtle and clever part of the socializing?¡± ¡±No.¡± The stoic man said stoically as rapidly prepared more scrambled eggs. James shrugged at the camraconda who was still in the process of staring at a tablecloth. ¡°There ya go.¡± He said. ¡°I just kind of assumed Charlie was the muscle and brains, Alice was the voice and heart, and Dance was the¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡±Carefullllll.¡± Alice smirked down at the sleepy camraconda next to her. Before James could come up with a noun for her adopted kid, she pointed her fork his way. ¡°Also I¡¯m the muscle. Charlie¡¯s the brains and the raw animal sexuality, though.¡± ¡°Oh, have we reached this part of the conversation?¡± Charlie asked as he served Dance her bowl, patting her on the back of her long neck affectionately as she rose up with a gasp and immediately started trying to eat her eggs without bothering with utensils. ¡°Sorry, neither you nor Arrush are my type. I am the brains though, I¡¯ll take that.¡± Nodding around a mouthful of overly peppered eggs, James decided to try to get them back on track. Mostly. ¡°Well I¡¯m glad that I was at least considered.¡± Before getting back to real business. ¡°Alice. Go take Dance and Arrush as backup, go talk to the therapist that Yin met who had a spellbook on their shelf. Be direct, but not pushy.¡± ¡±Why Arrush?¡± ¡±Because I¡¯m going to spend the whole day sitting in a library alone and I don¡¯t want him getting bored. Unless he wants to take an easy day? Just ask him when he gets up.¡± Alice nodded down at the table as her fork clinked against her plate. ¡°Sure. Are you giving me the least dangerous job?¡± She inquired in a casual voice. ¡±Yes.¡± James answered bluntly. ¡°Because there¡¯s two options. Either A, there is a dungeon based monster problem in this town, or B, there is an artificially created monster problem in this town. I can take care of myself, and Zhu¡¯s gonna be up soon anyway.¡± ¡±¡¯m away now.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice had a sleepy slur to it, and James couldn¡¯t tell if it was in his head or out loud. He checked himself for feathers, and found nothing, but if Zhu was active, he could at least help James find his way through any chaos that popped off. The stove clicked as it was turned off, and a few seconds later Charlie sat down at the head of the table with his own precisely rationed breakfast. ¡°Where am I splitting up to?¡± Alice made a noise, and flipped her binder open, pulling out a notecard with a name and a few addresses on it. ¡°Cause I¡¯m addicted to social media-¡° ¡°We can fix that. We have that wizardry.¡± Dance interrupted her, mouth full of eggs that she chewed in a bizarre sight with too many sound effects on top of her speech for James to not smile at. ¡±-I found out what meetinghouse one of the kid¡¯s family¡¯s goes to.¡± Alice and Charlie shared a professional moment as he took the card from her. ¡°Remember how they talked about their bishop? Odds are good it¡¯s this guy. Russel Anderson. If not, it¡¯ll be Carl Young. Here¡¯s the building address, but since it¡¯s Wednesday, there¡¯s good odds they¡¯re at home, or playing golf. The bottom address is their country club.¡± ¡±Thanks.¡± Charlie said simply. ¡°How do you want me to play it?¡± James snapped his last piece of bacon in half and ate half of it quickly, the fake meat doing a great job of making him forget its deceit. ¡°Be yourself.¡± He said. James didn¡¯t know Charlie that well. Despite having worked with him before, trained with him and his team a few times, been on a week long delve together, and been in multiple different security and civics meetings with him. He suspected that there were only a couple people who did know him very well, and those people would be Alice and Dance. But what little he¡¯d gotten off the man gave him¡­ not a picture of a person, so much as an impression. Charlie was blunt, direct, and allergic to subterfuge and innuendo in a way that led to him asking repeat followup questions if someone tried to hint anything at him. James was also aware that Charlie was a competent fighter, with an attitude that bordered on soldier sometimes. Maybe he was ex-military; he was old enough for it. Probably. The important thing was, while Charlie didn¡¯t have a lot of practice or skill ranks in social graces or etiquette, what he did have was a kind of blunt force presence that made him ideal for disruption. James didn¡¯t expect him to get answers. Neither did Charlie. He expected to fill the role that James quite loved using against hostile groups. Show up, brazenly, and ask flagrantly pointed questions. Then sit back and see how the enemy reacted. As much as it was a hilarious tactic to workshop, it was actually incredibly hard to pull off. Even in training and practice situations, a lot of people even in the rogues showed cracks in their emotional state and personas when they had to perform that way; and it was a performance. Charlie, though? Charlie was perfect for it. Which freed up the others to track down smaller leads. ¡°Understood.¡± Charlie said simply. ¡±Are Myles and Yin back from evading the cops?¡± James asked. Alice blinked. ¡°Oh, they came back briefly after you and Arrush went to bed.¡± She said. As if summoned by his name, Arrush padded silently into the room, looking at the breakfast like he was even now still uncertain if he was allowed to ask for any. He didn¡¯t get a chance to, before Charlie was back in the kitchen, twisting around the edge of the counter with a smooth motion to start another plate of scrambled eggs. ¡°They took the weird coin for duplicating, the others are for us to use because we¡¯re the most likely people to need them in the near future. Our backup should be down here later this afternoon, they¡¯re sorting out who actually shows up. Uh¡­ I guess the Order is busy or something.¡± ¡±Yeah go figure.¡± James laughed lightly. ¡°We decided to solve every problem, and it turns out, that means that we have a lot of problems to solve. Who knew?¡± ¡±I knew.¡± Zhu rumbled, and this time James could tell the navigator was still in his thoughts. The words came across weird like this; it was more like James was thinking them himself and only barely realizing they weren¡¯t his. But he was just glad Zhu was doing okay. ¡°So we¡¯ll have a couple rogues probably later.¡± Alice continued, not hearing Zhu. ¡°They also need to get a navigator to help, I guess? This whole place is under a weird memetic effect where it¡¯s hard to remember it¡¯s important if you¡¯re outside it. Planner says they can¡¯t do anything, but navigators can cut ¡®holes¡¯ for people. It¡¯s just slow and exhausting.¡± ¡±Correct.¡± Zhu added silently. James clicked his tongue. ¡°Yeah, Zhu remembers that. Is it messing with us here, do we know?¡± ¡±Not enough information yet.¡± Charlie said. ¡°Which is a cyclical problem. We don¡¯t know what we don¡¯t know, and it isn¡¯t bothering us.¡± ¡±We could maybe get some navigator eggs?¡± Dance suggested, starting to wake up more. Arrush looked at her, slowly becoming more comfortable participating with this group of people. ¡°They¡­ would be young. New. Can new navigators fight something this big?¡± ¡±Oh. Yeah, nevermind, I take my idea back!¡± Dance declared. ¡°Actually, new topic! How do new navigators find the shit they offer if apparently this entire dumb world is covered in memeplexes and dungeons and creepy stuff?¡± ¡±¡­that¡­ is a good question.¡± James admitted, tapping his chin as he offered Arrush the last of his bacon and got the morsel plucked out of his fingers. Arrush actually just snagged it with his claws, which James found refreshing, considering half the people he knew from Alanna to TQ would have just tried to eat his whole hand and sort out the food part later. ¡°A question we can deal with later. Arrush, you up for bodyguarding Alice today?¡± ¡±Not¡­ not you?¡± ¡±I¡¯ll be sitting in a public library all day.¡± ¡±¡­I also want to sit in a public library.¡± Arrush said, a sad tension entering his raspy voice. ¡°Sometimes¡­ I don¡¯t like this world.¡± He said quietly. ¡±I understand.¡± James said. ¡°And I swear to you, this is not how things will always be. Really, I promise.¡± He had a lot of anger underlying that little oath. The kind of thoughts that turned to James being willing to bring the whole world to the ground if it resisted his desire for an equitable utopia. But he kept that to himself this morning; it was too early for ideological rants and he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d be able to get through it without exhausting himself anyway. Arrush didn¡¯t look at him. ¡±I know.¡± The ratroach said, tugging at the loose black shirt he was wearing today, his hoodie either forsaken or something he planned to put on later. Instead of talking more with James, he tried to focus on Alice. ¡°I.. I can help you.¡± He offered. ¡±Happy to have ya!¡± Alice gave him a grin. ¡°We¡¯re looking to get some answers and some more spellbooks. Oh! Do you have spell slots?¡± ¡±N-no?¡± Arrush twitched at the sudden enthusiasm. Dance twisted herself off the chair and hit the hardwood floor with a thump. ¡°I¡¯ll get you some of the coins. They¡¯re yours anyway!¡± She happily proclaimed. ¡°Then you can make towels! The worst magic possible!¡± ¡±There¡¯s other spells.¡± Alice tried to defend the low-use magic system that she¡¯d been one of the first to discover for the Order. ¡±The other spells are worse!¡± Her camraconda kid yelled back. Arrush blinked his eyes in a curious sequence. ¡°I¡­ I could use towels.¡± He admitted. ¡°I go through a lot of them.¡± ¡±You can wash towels big guy.¡± It was unclear if Dance was trying to sound friendly or condescending or both at once. Alice came to Arrush¡¯s rescue. ¡°He means through towels you brat. Hey, I¡¯m not raising you to be a jerk to people!¡± She fixed Dance with a disappointed look that James felt was about a seven out of ten on the Mom Vibes Power Scale. Leaving them to their nonsense, James stood and stretched, cracking his back and wishing that his magic made him heal supernaturally fast instead of just quicker than a normal human but not quick enough for it to be a power. His side still hurt. Arguably it hurt more now, even though it had already begun to put itself back together. All his muscles still ached though, and with a wound like that still healing, a sip of exercise potion was out of the question. But they had stuff to do. At least he got to sit all day, and watch a book. That was the easy job. ¡±Alright. I¡¯m gonna head out.¡± James stopped behind Arrush to slowly wrap his boyfriend in a hug. It was challenging, because Arrush¡¯s extra arms meant James couldn¡¯t press up against his back the same way he would to a human, and he had to sort of tilt himself asymmetrically to properly do the hugging part. But also, it was nice, because Arrush had enough bonus arms capable of facing backward that he could awkwardly return the physical contact even while he was busy inhaling his breakfast like it was the best and last food he was ever going to get. ¡°Oh! Charlie, Arrush needs an expendable phone for today.¡± ¡±I do?¡± Arrush asked, making a distressed squeak as he drooled on his plate and part of the tablecloth with a glowing corrosive hiss. ¡±You do. Here.¡± Charlie handed him a flip phone. Our numbers are in it already.¡± ¡±Did you just have that ready?¡± James asked, impressed. Charlie nodded once. ¡°It came up last night. I decided to be proactive. I¡¯m also going to go now, start checking addresses. I¡¯ll see you all tonight, or when a crisis happens.¡± He swept his gaze across the group, pausing only on Alice to share a small smile as the two of them watched Dance slither back to the table and spit a handful of spell slot coins in front of Arrush. ¡°Everyone be careful.¡± ¡±Always am!¡± James said as he headed for the front door. No one bothered to tell him he was a liar. They all knew he already knew. _____ Contrary to how James tended to conceptualize suburbs, they weren¡¯t just endless expanses of roads and houses. His experience in the Stratified Underburbs aside, the real world had things that prevented that kind of absolute homogeneity. Suburbs were where people lived, and people needed things. Things like shops, or schools, or hospitals; and despite the fact that the suburban area was a wasteland hellscape designed to punish anyone who didn¡¯t own a car, there still had to be things that met those needs somewhere. They showed up in asphalt oases amidst replicated construction. Subdivision shopping centers, the growing city actually doing something James approved of and building multi level buildings that incorporated larger parking structures and made use of vertical space. More spread out buildings still filled the parking lots around them, but there were places where you could go to your doctor¡¯s appointment, then go downstairs to mail a package, next door to have lunch, and then around to the back side of the concrete jungle of a parking structure to get in a few games of bowling. It was a strange sight. James had, in his ongoing research into the art of balancing density with happiness, filling needs with filling souls, seen quite a few cities from around the world. There were places in China that would look at this level of compression and laugh. This was amateur by comparison. There were apartment blocks in Japan where you could see the same number of restaurants, with a tenth the number of parking spaces. This wasn¡¯t exceptionally impressive. And yet, North Smiths was¡­ trying? As a city, as a collective space, it was at least making an attempt. Maybe it was just following construction fads from other parts of the US; James didn¡¯t really care. Because at the end of the day, it was better than it could have been, and that was kinda cool. The library that Charlie had found the book at was one of three public libraries in the city. And, while that number seemed low for a place that was closing in on seventy thousand people and aimed to break a hundred and twenty k by the end of the decade, James could at least say that he approved of the library buildings themselves. Modern construction, some actual curves on the outside instead of just a big brick box, plenty of big glass windows and an inviting atmosphere. James parked in the side lot between a motorhome and a little gravel patch with what he was pretty sure was a decorative and fake cactus sticking up through the middle of it. It was too¡­ archetypically perfect, too much a cactus to be a real cactus. ¡±Do you know,¡± a much more awake Zhu pushed the thought through his mind as he let the different route lines he¡¯d been holding in James¡¯ vision for the drive drop away, ¡°that when you think stupid things, it makes me think stupid things?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not thinking stupid things, I have a perfectly reasonable and verified distrust for fake plants.¡± James reminded the navigator. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s been a while, I know you know about Ferndinand and Tyrannadonny and you also weren¡¯t around in the early days, but I¡¯ve been beaten around the bush too many times to not keep an eye out.¡± Zhu broadcast a wave of the circular thought of both getting a pun and hating a pun at the same time. ¡±Terrible. Just terrible. I¡¯m going back to what I was working on.¡± ¡±What are you working on in my head?¡± James asked, curious. In reply, he got the sensation of a dream, the drifting ephemeral quality of being nowhere while he was someone else, and the crystal clear sensation of a single step along an endless baking road. James blinked as he shut the driver¡¯s side door of the rental car, leaning forward on the hot metal as he caught himself. For just a moment, it had been incredibly real; a dream that was a static construction in his thoughts. And for another moment, he felt a little scared. But he didn¡¯t hold onto that fear; Zhu was his friend, and more than that, he trusted the navigator with his life. He wouldn¡¯t fuck up James¡¯ thoughts too badly, and James¡¯ thoughts weren¡¯t always that great anyway. ¡°Neat.¡± He said. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m here.¡± He added, declaring the journey at an end. The marker of finished travel let Zhu fade out of his conscious mind. ¡°And I¡¯m going back to my creative rest. Scream if you need your life saved.¡± ¡±Always.¡± James smiled to the sidewalk as he headed for the front door. It wasn¡¯t just him. The building was at the end of a larger commercial plaza, so James considered getting pizza for lunch at the corner restaurant he could see a couple blocks away afterward as he walked past families and couples, groups of friends and single professionals. There was a different vibe to a lot of the pedestrians than James was used to, though. A little more uniformity in dress styles, a lot more button up shirts than he was used to for a summer day, far more smiles divided across people with a strange passion and people with a strange tightness to the grins. In the same way that the new construction made him feel mildly positive, the people made him feel mildly negative. It was only with a hand pushing the library¡¯s front door open that he realized he was getting a few stares and frowns from just out of where a normal human¡¯s peripheral vision ended. But he legitimately hadn¡¯t done anything, so he tried to figure out what made him stand out. ¡±Is it my hair?¡± James muttered to himself as he held the door open for a woman and the five kids she was exhaustedly trying to shepard out of the building. He gave her a polite nod and used the motion to disguise sweeping his vision across the people sitting on benches and walking past. Yeah, he was definitely being clocked as an outsider. ¡°This is very¡­ uh¡­ that one movie with the black and white town. That.¡± James walked into the library humming the classic Doors song People Are Strange to himself. Replacing the book wasn¡¯t the hard part. He just spent some time browsing the shelves, before finding himself in the horseshoe corner that Charlie had given him precise directions to, and then slipped it back into its place. Grabbing a different random book, James retreated to one of the old tables that had line of sight to that little cluster of wooden shelves to pretend to read and to watch. The library was odd, he decided. Air conditioned, modern building, but shelves that looked mismatched and secondhand. Chairs that creaked and shifted, tables that had all the varnish worn off and a dozen divots and splinters on their sides. It wasn¡¯t like the library he¡¯d grown up with, and it also wasn¡¯t like the Library he delved. It was something that felt like it was almost an exhausted shrug of a location. And yet people were here. Not a lot of people, but there were a handful of kids picking out books under the watchful eyes of mothers that kept vetoing choices, a few older folks who might just be sitting and reading to get out of the heat for a bit, and a pair of librarians hard at work reshelving and looking bound and determined to make this place work. James cracked open the thick hardback crime thriller novel, the plastic film it was wrapped in to preserve the cover against the hands of a thousand readers cracked and rough, and settled in to wait. Not to read the book. He wasn¡¯t that desperate yet. Murder mysteries were low on James¡¯ list of preferred genres; he knew it was a little silly, but he liked stories where the hero could actually prevent the atrocity, and not just clean up after it. So instead, he waited patiently, and by playing sudoku on his phone. He would have liked to do it with his skulljack, just for the practice, but despite the engineering group in the basement continually making improvements to the skulljack braids, they were still clunky and obvious things. James¡¯ more than most, since he¡¯d kept one from a while back and felt like it was silly to upgrade when this one worked fine, and that someone else could use one of the new ones more, and he abruptly realized he was doing exactly the thing Arrush had rightly accused him of. ¡±Oh good, I¡¯m predictable.¡± James whispered. It was worth a laugh. Here, surrounded by daylight and books and people, he felt the potential emotional crisis take a backseat to just how funny it was. It also made it easy to just decide to upgrade when he had the chance. Maybe Mike or whoever was their primary skulljack developer could get some use out of James¡¯ older braid for testing purposes. He thought about it, and also about if this was a way he could pursue self-improvement outside of his ongoing crisis response and magic utilization practices. He also got distracted by his sudoku, in between thinking about it, and subtly eyeing everyone who moved through that little horseshoe of bookshelves with the affiliation glasses he had on. The affiliation glasses were quite possibly the most useful thing the Order had copies of for work like this. It was also endlessly frustrating that no one had really managed to imbue anything similar on their own. The dungeon remained at the top of the leaderboards for magic item creation, for now. Part of what made blue orb imbuement fun to James was that the possibilities weren¡¯t actually endless. There were clear qualifiers to it that felt like solid guidelines; it worked better on things you could find in an office and it worked better when you made something do what it already did but ¡®more¡¯. When he had quiet downtime like this, he liked to take notes on stray ideas to try when he was back at the Lair. Different magic items he wanted to try to make, different ways to mess with the process. It was fun, and he wanted to get more involved in that side of the Order, even if most blue dungeontech just wasn¡¯t good gear for combat or industry, since it broke way too easily. The muffled quiet of the library soothed him as he waited and watched. He¡¯d needed a little alone time, and despite being on a stakeout, this was a good opportunity to decompress and relax a bit. A couple hours went by as James texted his partners, answered an honestly very polite email from one of Auberdeen¡¯s professors about the fact that he¡¯d enrolled a dog in her contemporary media literacy course, solved a crossword, and eventually broke down and read the first two chapters of his camouflage book as the minutes stretched on and no quarry appeared. It wasn¡¯t that James was bad at stakeouts, exactly. It was that he was feeling silly for giving Charlie the fun job of antagonizing authority figures. Silly, and mildly envious. Sure, quiet time was nice, but he could be engaging in unfriendly banter with a¡­ bishop? James looked it up. Bishop was correct, and lined up with what the kids last night had said. He looked up from his phone as motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, noticing just a moment too late someone actually approaching the spot where James had replaced the stashed spellbook. In all likelihood, it was probably nothing. But it couldn¡¯t hurt to make sure. So with a yawn that was only half faked, James thumped the novel on the table closed and stood up, heading to swap it out for something else, and also get eyes on whoever had slipped past while he had his head down. James legitimately didn¡¯t think it would be anything. Which was why he was surprised when he rounded the corner, book in hand and ready to pretend he was just there to exchange fiction, and came face to face with someone he recognized. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡±Pardon¡­ me¡­? Lincon?¡± James¡¯ eyebrows shot upward, his whole face crinkling in confusion as he practically ran into one of the three kids who had started this whole expedition. One of the three missing teenagers. Who was currently crouched down, black slacks and white shirt looking deeply uncomfortable on him, spellbook in one hand, a look of panic on his face as he stared up at James like he wasn¡¯t sure if he should be sprinting away right now. ¡±Yes sir?¡± He started to say in a loud squeak of a voice, before he blinked and a look of confusion crossed his own face. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re¡­ paladin?¡± ¡±James.¡± James said quietly, motioning for Lincon to quiet down. ¡°Lincon, what are you doing here? What happened to you? And to Liam and Emma? And your families? What is happening in this stupid fucking city?¡± ¡±Slow down!¡± The teenager inched away from James, still looking like he was considering running as he glanced out of the concealed section of shelves and toward the library¡¯s front doors. James frowned as he noticed it. ¡°I¡¯m not here to be your enemy.¡± He told Lincon. ¡°Please. I could really use a hand here.¡± ¡±¡­When¡­ when we met you¡­¡± Lincon had shifted to a standing position, one foot planted like he was ready to launch himself away and out of the shelves, the spellbook clutched to his chest. ¡°What were we doing?¡± ¡±Technically I met you when you fucked up my diplomatic contact with¡­ uh¡­ Euphrates? One of the Alchemists, I don¡¯t remember which one. One of the ones that didn¡¯t make it. But we actually properly talked for the first time when you tried to stab either one of the inhabitors or one of my knights, because you thought we¡¯d killed your friend.¡± James said as softly as he could, checking his own side of the aisle for anyone passing by. ¡°And you don¡¯t think I¡¯m the real me. Which is¡­ concerning.¡± Lincon actually relaxed as James gave his answer. ¡°One of the demon species are shapeshifters.¡± He said, still watching James with suspicion. James made a quick decision, and took his glasses off, handing them over to Lincon. ¡°Here.¡± He said, watching as the older teen gave him a sarcastic look before slipping them on. ¡°I suppose this could be part of an elaborate trap, but honestly, that seems like more work than I¡¯d want to put in, personally.¡± ¡±Your last name is Lyle?¡± Lincon asked him, incredulous. ¡±I have no idea why that¡¯s what gets your attention.¡± James held out a hand and took the glasses back. ¡°Where are Emma and Liam.¡± He phrased it less as a question and more as an insistence that he would have an answer for. Lincon¡¯s shoulders sagged, and it seemed like he might start crying as he leaned himself back on one of the shelves, his weight threatening to knock part of it over. ¡°Prisoners.¡± He said. ¡°The church calls it ¡®extended repentance¡¯, but they aren¡¯t allowed to leave, and no one knows where they are, so they¡¯re prisoners.¡± ¡±Lincon, I¡¯m gonna ask you a question,¡± James said, feeling an aggravating pressure building inside his skull, ¡°and I need you to tell me, when you say ¡®the church¡¯, that you mean¡­ I don¡¯t know, a sect? A splinter group? Some kind of small, manageable cult. Okay? Ready?¡± Lincon nodded at him unsteadily. ¡°Okay. What church, Lincon?¡± ¡±The¡­ the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-¡° ¡°God dammit.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t use God¡¯s name that way.¡± Lincon said like he was on autopilot. A moment later, a furious expression came over him, and he set the book down on the shelf next to him so he could pull out a small pocket knife. Fumbling a thin blade open, he got his sleeve rolled up and the knife placed against his arm before a shocked James intercepted him. ¡°Stop! Give that back!¡± Lincon demanded as James took his knife away. James was not going to be doing that. ¡±No! What the fuck are you doing?!¡± ¡±It¡¯s the only thing that¡­ that¡­¡± Lincon¡¯s eyebrows folded down in part anger, part confusion. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± ¡±Know what?!¡± James asked, too loud for the quiet library. Lincon took a breath, his constant glances and twitches showing off a paranoid attitude. ¡°It helps with the curse.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t know why. Maybe it¡¯s just¡­ uh¡­ operant conditioning? But it helps.¡± The kid clearly saw James winding up for a question about that, and preempted it. ¡°They make us use the spell that makes us believe what we say. I had to do that. A lot.¡± ¡±I¡¯m going to kill a lot of people.¡± James hissed out, his hand clenched into a fist so hard he felt his nails digging furrows in his skin. He might not have the full picture, but just that small piece of the puzzle was enough for him to get a little upset. ¡°Okay. Why are you here?¡± ¡±To get this.¡± Lincon said, holding the leafy spellbook up. ¡°I¡¯d leave it for the others, but¡­ I need it.¡± ¡±The others. This isn¡¯t here by accident, is it?¡± James pursed his lips as he put the pieces together into a small portion of the situation. ¡°No, wait. If people your age are being forced to use certain magic, that means you have spell slots. But they¡¯re probably controlled, aren¡¯t they? Either by private time or spellbook availability. So anyone participating in counterculture would have¡­ what, an underground library? Books stolen or delved on your own, and stored in places people can get to?¡± Lincon nodded, suspicious again and still twitching when people walked past the end of the shelf alcove. ¡°Shit. That¡¯s¡­ really not secure, but I get it.¡± James puffed his cheeks out before huffing out a long exhale. ¡°Where are Emma and Liam? And all the others who are disappearing?¡± ¡±What¡­ what others? They got taken months ago, and I barely got away, and you weren¡¯t there to help.¡± Lincon was vibrating with anger as he yelled out the last part of the sentence. ¡°You put us back and left us!¡± James wanted to glare back, but forced himself to stay neutral. ¡°We returned you to your families, and heard nothing afterward. Partly because there¡¯s an active memeplex that makes this whole area hard to return to or something, but that¡¯s no excuse. You didn¡¯t call.¡± ¡±We couldn¡¯t!¡± Lincon yelled, and now it was James¡¯ turn to check to see if anyone else in the library was watching them. ¡±Let¡¯s take this outside, and not bother the librarians.¡± James said quietly, but when Lincon gave him a wide eyed fearful look, he just sighed. ¡°Okay, then keep it down. Look, I¡¯m sorry we fucked up, okay? You¡¯re right. We dropped the ball. But I¡¯m here now, so let¡¯s get you out of here. You and everyone else, once you tell me where they are.¡± Liam¡¯s face twisted in anger. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± He said, forcing his voice down, flinching as a man passed by the end of the shelves they were hidden in. ¡°Leave. I can¡¯t leave. They did something to¡­ to everyone. Something keeps us here. I don¡¯t know where they take the people they take; I¡¯ve sorta been¡­¡± he trailed off, choking on his words and badly holding back sobs. James looked at the teenager again. Actually looked. He was, if James remembered correctly, halfway to being nineteen, and he¡¯d been a football player when he¡¯d arrived on the Order¡¯s doorstep. Now? Now, he¡­ wasn¡¯t looking good. James didn¡¯t just see Lincon when he looked again, he saw someone who had too many thin white scars on his skin, who hadn¡¯t showered or washed his clothes in at least a few days, who had dropped a lot of weight and wasn¡¯t eating right. ¡±Lincon, where are you living?¡± James asked. ¡±Nowhere.¡± The word was a pitiful admission of shame. ¡±You got away, you said. You¡¯ve been here since last year, dodging being picked up. Holy shit.¡± James wiped a hand through his hair. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ve got a house rented down here, let¡¯s get you an actual lunch, okay?¡± James offered softly, instinctively using the same tone he did on new ratroaches. Lincon sniffed, an embarrassed red creeping across his face as his stomach audibly rumbled. ¡°Okay.¡± He muttered. ¡°I¡­ I can give you everything. You¡¯re going to help? Really?¡± ¡±Really.¡± James held out a hand. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get out of here.¡± Lincon stared at the hand, until James cleared his throat. ¡°Sorry, uh, telepad.¡± He waved the backup copy of the magic item that he¡¯d kept on him. ¡°Needs contact though.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± Lincon nodded like being told someone could teleport with a small spiral notebook was normal. But he took James¡¯ hand, and pressed his eyes closed with a wince as James tore the page. Normally, teleports with the telepads were instant. Or perceived as instant, anyway. The A-type telepads that James was using had a slight second long delay before they actually moved you, but you still basically didn¡¯t feel anything between the page being ripped and the appearance at the new location. What didn¡¯t happen was feeling like you¡¯d been plunged into an icy grey void, smoke and fear coiling around you like a cosmic blackberry vine, holding you in place with the threat of evisceration from thorns made of angular bronze weakness. Normally. James choked on a cough as the teleport slammed him back into exactly where he¡¯d been standing in the library, Lincon staggering back clutching his spellbook with a terrified expression on his face and his free hand fumbling away from James and going for his knife. ¡°Ow.¡± James said. ¡°What the shit was that?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna throw up.¡± Lincon said openly. ¡±Not in the library.¡± James forced his eyes to stay open, seeing glittering spots dancing in his optic nerve. ¡°What the hell.¡± Lincon braced himself on the end of the shelves. ¡°That¡¯s what¡­ that¡¯s like an easier version of what it feels like if I get too far away.¡± That was information James would have liked to have had earlier. ¡°Alright. Driving it is. We can stop at McDonalds, and you can tell me everything you know.¡± ¡±But¡­¡± ¡±No, it¡¯s not¡­ we¡¯re not leaving the city. The house is here. I think the teleport just moves us ¡®too far¡¯ for you.¡± What James didn¡¯t say, but was thinking, was that it hadn¡¯t just been Lincon who had been stonewalled by the burning grey fog. James had too. Something had stopped him, and he knew from experience that telepads could leave someone behind if there was an effect acting on them. Camille had done it to him. The first Camille, the one who was dead now. He felt a wave of mental exhaustion as he realized how often ¡°someone who was dead now¡± came up in his thoughts. Not physical exhaustion though, which was good. Because if something was keeping him pinned to the material plane, that meant he was going to have to get a flight back to his home state, which sounded actually horrible. James was spoiled by teleporting. The important information he pulled from this was two things. One, Lincon was in a lot of trouble, and two, someone at least similar to the people after Lincon had already begun targeting James. When exactly was unclear, but he suspected it was last night, when he got in a fight with a pack of furred screaming razorbeak things. If there was an enemy wizard around, James wasn¡¯t going to notice during that kind of fight. Either way, they needed to get back to somewhere safe. Or at least less out in the open than a public library where Lincon had been shouting and at least one librarian would probably like them to shut up and leave. So James patted down the young man¡¯s shoulders, and sized him up. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s move. Got your book?¡± He asked, and Lincon nodded. James nodded back once. ¡°Keep ahold of that.¡± He said, and turned to start confidently walking out, shaking off the lingering phantom pain of the attempted teleport, checking his peripheral vision to make sure his new pickup was following him. Past the line of sparsely occupied tables, around the corner of the shelves of the self help section, and toward the front door. ¡°Mmh. Odd.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice uncoiled in James¡¯ thoughts. James sharpened to more alertness than he was already at as he heard the navigator. There were two librarians at the front counter, a half dozen kids running around, one harried looking parent, a couple younger people dressed like Lincon waiting in line, and four men walking through the front doors and scanning the library the same way James was. Not hesitating, James grabbed Lincon¡¯s shoulder and pulled him down to a crouch behind the back shelf in the series of low parallel rows that filled the space between them and the exit with colorful children¡¯s books. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s a problem.¡± He looked at Lincon. ¡°They can track you, huh?¡± ¡±Yeah¡­ sometimes. They always found me when I tried to get away at first.¡± ¡±Okay next time tell me that.¡± ¡±I thought you¡¯d¡­¡± Lincon trailed off. James snorted sarcastically. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m really all about abandoning people as soon as it gets a little complicated.¡± He snarked. ¡°That way, around to the right. Stay low.¡± He checked his concealed holster, but was more than a little hesitant to pull a weapon with people around. So James started rotating through spells in his thoughts like bullets in a cylinder. Ice arm, friction canceling, invincibility, bone strength or speed on an exchange, pave, snow cat, short range teleport that was probably out, asphalt manipulation that was out of reach from inside the building. Options. Not a lot, but some. And a handful of other tricks besides. He kept a hand on Lincon¡¯s shoulder as he guided the crouch walking kid to the end of the aisle, peeked down it, and then turned him to push them through the parallel rows of shelves. Crossing between one of the rows, a kid that couldn¡¯t have been more than five met James¡¯ eyes, and James grinned and waggled his eyebrows, holding a finger to his lips. The kid laughed, and held up a book in front of his face like he knew how to keep a secret as James moved them forward. Then he heard a loud male voice, not quite a shout but the sort of tone someone who was used to never worrying about volume control used. ¡°Excuse me!¡± James wasn¡¯t sure if they were talking to a librarian or the whole library. ¡°We¡¯re looking for a young man! About sixteen, thin, brown hair. He¡¯s run away from home, and his parents would very much like him back safely. Have you seen anyone come in that looked uncomfortable or suspicious?¡± James saw Lincon flinch, staring back at him with wide eyes. He shook his head, keeping a hand on the kid¡¯s shoulder. It was a good tactic; Lincon wasn¡¯t a minor, but odds were good he didn¡¯t have ID, and people would give him up without checking anyway. He kept the two of them moving to the end of the aisle, just twenty feet from the door. ¡°Stay down.¡± James whispered as he rose to his feet calmly, like he was a normal library patron. There were two of the men by the door. Button up shirts and business casual slacks, the picture of the harmlessly polite professional. Both of them had¡­ not guns, James couldn¡¯t tell what their concealed weapons were. Tasers, maybe? One of the men was talking to the front desk, the other was moving through the library casually looking for Lincon. James nodded to one of the men as he made eye contact, but opted to not say anything. He didn¡¯t know if they had a description of him, so keeping his head down and his involvement minimal was best. But he still needed a distraction. And on the far edge of the front desk, in a little display with a small pyramid of CD cases that were available for checkout, he found one. Crouching back down, he turned to Lincon. ¡°Move to the end. When I stand up, stay behind me, we¡¯re going to walk calmly for the front door and bolt when we pass them. Gonna keep this nonviolent, okay?¡± Lincon nodded uncertainly, and James smiled at him. ¡°The car we¡¯re going for is out the door to the left, and it¡¯s a silver sedan. Okay?¡± ¡±Okay.¡± ¡±Good. You¡¯ll do fine. You¡¯ve survived worse, and now you¡¯ve got help.¡± James grinned with a confidence he hoped would bleed over. Then he peeked around the corner, just enough to see the old radio on the counter, and burned most of his Velocity on a casting of Dial Breach. Which was a shame because he¡¯d spent a lot of time and leveler crown charges compacting his Velocity, and he¡¯d wanted to use that on something fancy. As it stood, he mostly just got to hit play and turn the volume all the way up on whatever happened to be in the thing, which by chance was a CD of ABBA, and so James got the unique pleasure of flooding a very quiet library with Man After Midnight at full blast. It wouldn¡¯t have been his first choice, but it certainly got the startled attention of the men by the door, both of whom moved almost reflexively to help the shocked librarian as she screamed in abrupt fright before laughing it off and struggling to figure out how to turn the old stereo off. James stood, and started walking, Lincon so close behind he was nearly stepping on James¡¯ heels. It was a tense moment, and one of the librarians even gave him an apologetic look as he walked out, James waving to her with a smile and a conciliatory tilt of his head. Her own gaze narrowed as she saw Lincon behind him, but when James turned and started casually talking to the teen, she seemed to assume things were fine and let them go. ¡°So the thing about making a getaway.¡± James said smoothly. ¡°Is that you need to be prepared for the next problem.¡± ¡±How many getaways have you made?¡± Lincon asked, teenage sarcasm overriding his fear for a moment. ¡±Well, we can¡¯t add this one to the list yet.¡± James grimaced as the outside sentry barked a command for the two to stop. ¡°Run.¡± He said, pointing a finger gun at the man running at them and paving him in the gut with the last of his Velocity as Lincon obeyed instantly and started sprinting. The assailant doubled over thirty feet away, vomiting his breakfast onto the sidewalk and making James feel like he couldn¡¯t have hit him that hard. But it wasn¡¯t his problem right now, and he took off after Lincon. The key fob alerted the teen to which car he should be running toward as James unlocked it, flipping the keys around in his hand as he practically slid across the rocky parking lot walkway and wrenched the driver¡¯s door open. The sound of both doors slamming shut as Lincon got in was like a gunshot, and James was sure that someone would be after them shortly as he started the engine and performed a rapid series of turns to get them out of the lot, cutting someone off as he pulled out and getting an earful of horn for his maneuver. ¡±Well that went well!¡± He said as he took them across an intersection and onto a more narrow side street lined with cracked sidewalks and old mailboxes. ¡±No it didn¡¯t!¡± Lincon looked like he was coming down from an adrenaline high, his voice as cracked as the surrounding concrete. ¡°We almost got shot!¡± James gave a brief chuckle as he checked his mirrors to make sure they weren¡¯t being followed. ¡°Nah, they didn¡¯t have guns. So. I need to know things. First off, what kind of fast food do you want, and second, everything you know.¡± Burger based bribery worked really well on Lincon. Though James did two loops of the area and nearly got hit by someone who didn¡¯t know how left turn lights worked as he made sure they weren¡¯t being followed. Whoever could track Lincon, they obviously couldn¡¯t do it too fast, so he was hoping that they would back off long enough for him to feed the young man. And also to hear his explanation. ¡±How much do you know?¡± Lincon asked as he scarfed down french fries. ¡±Okay.¡± James sucked in air and organized his thoughts. ¡°There¡¯s a dungeon here somewhere, and either part of the church or people using the church as social cover are exploiting it. At least some people think that spell levels correlate to demon attacks, which only ever happen at night. There¡¯s a bunch of spellbooks around the city in places like this where kids can slot spells without their¡­ parents? Bishops? Elders?¡± Lincon nodded to all of those as he sucked down milkshake. ¡°Authority figures can¡¯t stop them as easily.¡± James¡¯ jaw tightened for the last part. ¡°People are going missing. Whole families. But you didn¡¯t know about that, so that seems different from the prison camp for kids that someone is operating. So there¡¯s at least two factions at play, possibly three since there¡¯s the Seventeen Impressive Bastards around here too, and four if you count the Order. Actually, at least five, because you and your friends were obviously resisting somehow, and I¡¯m gonna put you in your own group for now.¡± He gave a rapid shake of his head as he went back to the important part. ¡°We know there¡¯s at least a few different magics at play, probably all dungeon spells of the type you use. One that can blank memories in an area, one that can kill lights, one that can tie someone to an area. Oh, and the one you said that reinforces belief. Now, what did I miss?¡± He¡¯d talked for long enough that Lincon had eaten a large fry, half a milkshake, and was working his way through a double bacon cheeseburger with enough speed that James worried he¡¯d choke. While Lincon swallowed and composed himself, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and leaving a red ketchup stain on the white shirt, James took a second to double check that they were still in the clear. Sending off texts to the others with a quick update, seeing how much of his Velocity had refilled, and then getting them rolling again. He needed to get gas at some point, a mundane chore that James hoped he could find a blue orb for at some point. It wasn¡¯t that he felt like he was above it or anything; James tried hard to keep from getting an outsized ego like that. He just didn¡¯t want to, and he was apparently entering the stage of his life where he just asked if magic could fix every problem. Regardless of his preferences, he stopped worrying about it when Lincon started talking. ¡±Uh¡­ yeah? Guess you know more than me anyway.¡± He said with bitter anger. ¡°They started the magic years ago. Everyone who did the private sacrament with our bishop got given the coins. You know them, right?¡± ¡±Yeah, we have a few.¡± James said easily, deciding not to disclose that they had copies just yet. ¡°Mostly the level one with a few level two. Recently found one with some kind of ruby through it, but I sent that back north.¡± Lincon sat up straighter, making an energized mmph sound around his milkshake straw. ¡°That¡¯s a good one! It lets you sorta exercise it for one of the books!¡± There was a sudden realization, sitting at a red light as Zhu lit up navigation lights in James¡¯ vision so he could get them home, that Lincon was probably sharing anything he thought James would find useful so that James would find Lincon useful. ¡±Okay.¡± James nodded, and decided to just assuage him now and deal with the root issue later. ¡°Good to know, we¡¯ll look into it, thanks. So, the bishop thing?¡± ¡±Oh yeah.¡± Lincon¡¯s good mood evaporated. ¡°We didn¡¯t know it was all of us for a while. They told us it was a secret, and¡­ I mean, I was thirteen, you know?¡± The grip James had on the steering wheel threatened to break either it, or his bones, and he wasn¡¯t sure which would give first. ¡±I know.¡± He said as flatly as possible. Lincon, if he noticed James¡¯ anger, didn¡¯t say anything about it, continuing his story. ¡°Then every private sacrament had us doing the magic book thing. The spell is called ¡®mindful reverberation¡¯, and it¡­ kinda hypnotizes yourself? You use it, and then you believe the next thing you say. It¡¯s not permanent, but if you¡¯re doing it every week¡­ and later every day¡­¡± ¡±Cognitive conditioning.¡± James didn¡¯t bother hiding his anger now. ¡°Brainwashing. Building up a library of things you have to believe, and then putting everything else on top of that. Yeah. That¡¯s¡­ I am upset.¡± He ground out the last word through gritted teeth, feeling Zhu¡¯s own paired anger curling around his thoughts as he drove. ¡°But you and Liam and Emma didn¡¯t just stay like that, did you?¡± Surprising James, Lincon started laughing. It wasn¡¯t a happy laugh, and it was threatening to spill over into something uncontrollable, but it still wasn¡¯t what was expected. ¡°Oh, yeah!¡± The young man crushed his burger wrapper into a ball and threw it onto the floor of the car between his feet. ¡°They¡­ they made a mistake. They made us believe.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t follow.¡± James frowned as he escaped the main roads of the strip malls and commercial subdevelopments for a few minutes, driving down a side street to a different main road of strip malls and commercial subdevelopments. ¡±When I¡­ we¡­ when¡­¡± Lincon took a deep breath, staring out the window with his hands twisting around the now empty fast food cup, slowly shredding it. ¡°Eventually I gave up.¡± He said. ¡°I just let myself believe, because it was easier. But the things they made us believe - things like devoting ourselves to God, meeting challenges in His name, being proper members of the community to set a good example - we believed those things.¡± He looked back at James, the single meal not having changed that he was malnourished and exhausted. ¡°So we started acting like we believed we should.¡± Now James got it. ¡°Ah. Fuck.¡± He winced as Lincon winced, the mindfucked kid sawing teeth into his own lip to stop from saying anything about James swearing. ¡°You started delving because you thought you were supposed to.¡± ¡±I guess.¡± ¡±All the other spell slots, shared spellbooks, it¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s not a resistance movement at all, is it?¡± ¡±¡­not really.¡± Lincon whispered, voice blown away by the car¡¯s AC. James put the information together out loud, letting his passenger confirm. ¡°You, because your minds were shaped for it, decided to take action. You found the dungeon, somehow-¡° ¡±There¡¯s lots of ways in. It¡¯s pretty big.¡± Lincon fidgeted before making a decision. ¡°It¡¯s in a parking lot. The¡­ dungeon thing. The entrances are all over, but they¡¯re always in big parking lots in the real world.¡± ¡±-good to know, you can show us those later. But you fought, found more coins, became dangerous¡­ you told your families, didn¡¯t you?¡± Lincon¡¯s reply was vibrating with bitter rage. ¡±Of course. Good sons inform their fathers of everything important.¡± Gut twisting at the scope of the abuse perpetrated against the person next to him, and all the others with him, James continued. ¡°But they didn¡¯t stop you? No, because it was working, they just didn¡¯t expect the results, is that it? So your family¡¯s started delving with you. Maybe put in groups by your temple or whatever?¡± He got a nod. ¡°That explains a lot of what¡¯s going on, but not even close to everything. Why the hell would people keep doing this if there were random demon attacks every night?¡± James stopped at a stop sign, much to the annoyance of the car behind him, and took a second to impact his forehead on the steering wheel. ¡°The demon attacks aren¡¯t a dungeon thing, are they?¡± He asked. ¡±Nah.¡± Lincon said. ¡°Or if they are, it¡¯s for some weird reason. Never happened to us before. Still doesn¡¯t happen to me.¡± He was warming up to James as the more experienced adventurer openly solved the puzzle of the city he was trapped in. ¡°Uh¡­ can I ask a question?¡± ¡±Yeah sure!¡± James was actually happy that Lincon seemed to be calming down and engaging more. ¡°Sup?¡± ¡±You¡­ you said families are going missing.¡± ¡±Yeah. Yours too.¡± James said, and saw Lincon wilt. ¡°Not dead, I think. Because if they were then¡­¡± He stopped himself. He¡¯d been about to say it would have been easier to just shoot them, but not everyone had infomorph cover for their crimes committed in broad daylight. Even so, the way things were happening was still so much effort compared to just murder, so James felt like he was on the right track. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re dead.¡± Lincon sighed and spoke with resignation. ¡°But you don¡¯t know.¡± ¡±Not yet.¡± James promised. ¡±And what was that about¡­ bastards?¡± At that, James gave an honest laugh. ¡±Oh, yeah! Some guy we ran into. He¡¯s sorta read in on the magic, clearly been in town for a while. I dunno if he¡¯s saving people from demons as a hobby, but he said he was planning a gold heist? Honestly, weirdest part of my vacation so far.¡± ¡±Oh, that makes sense.¡± Lincon said in the kind of voice younger people used when they felt like they didn¡¯t have to explain something. ¡±¡­Explain why?¡± James prompted. Lincon looked at him with confusion and surprise. ¡°Because one of the spells makes gold? Well, it turns stuff into gold. Some stuff. I¡­ I kinda thought that was what you were after?¡± ¡±Okay, explain why you thought that?¡± He shrugged at James. ¡°Because when I was your prisoner, I heard a lot about your budget problems from the one girl that was always around?¡± James was pretty sure he was talking about Liz, which made sense. Karen¡¯s daughter would probably have a line on those particular complaints. But¡­ ¡±The Order isn¡¯t hurting for money. I had no idea about that spell, and honestly, I don¡¯t need it.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I was just amused by the gold heist! Now I¡¯m learning that there¡¯s actually gold to heist! Today has been weird.¡± ¡±It¡¯s going to get weirder.¡± Zhu said openly, orange feathers shedding dusty light blooming across James¡¯ right side along with the navigator¡¯s eyes. Lincon squealed, but the two ignored him. ¡°You¡¯re being followed.¡± ¡±How bad?¡± James asked with crisp professionalism. Zhu hummed like an idling engine. ¡°They stop you within three miles.¡± ¡±It¡¯s noon.¡± James let the professional paladin visage crack as he decided to complain. ¡°Who sets up a roadblock at noon?!¡± ¡±That really isn¡¯t my job.¡± The navigator said coyly, turning a large eye onto Lincon. ¡°Hello. You may wish to buckle your seatbelt.¡± James ignored the byplay of Zhu terrifying their new friend, again thinking out loud. ¡°We¡¯re not far from the rental house, but we can¡¯t lead them there. Options?¡± ¡±Turn the ambush?¡± Zhu said, almost a little too eager to get in a fight. ¡±I do like the sound of that, but I don¡¯t want a war. Let¡¯s settle for aggressive evasion instead.¡± James agreed, eyes flicking to his rearview mirror where he could see an old blue pickup tailing him, even as he began to get deeper into the suburbs. ¡°Lincon, he¡¯s not kidding, buckle up. Zhu, new route. Take us to the undeveloped area.¡± Zhu fluttered, a taloned hand rising out of James¡¯ arm and taking the wheel along with his friend. ¡°An open road.¡± Well, barring construction, though James kept that thought mostly to himself as they navigated through streets lined with houses and front yards and lampposts, deeper and deeper into the suburbs. The driver duo kept within the speed limit, but Zhu nudged them through odd turns every few streets to spoil the trap their pursuers were setting up ahead. It made it very obvious that the two cars tailing James, the pickup and another silvery grey hatchback, were following them. It wasn¡¯t even subtle; the people in the cars were so laser focused on keeping up and they clearly didn¡¯t care if he knew it. Which made him not feel too bad about what he was about to do. ¡±Ready?¡± He asked the others, rolling down his side window. ¡±No! Ready for what?!¡± Lincon demanded. ¡±Yesssssss. Punch it! Go!¡± Zhu declared, the cloak of feathers that was his form billowing out from James like a wing that was far too large for the cramped interior of the car they were in as they took the last turn before the neighborhood stopped being occupied and started being construction. Skeletons of houses lined the road now, wooden frames that would later support domestic life. There weren¡¯t even streetlights here yet, just trailers and piles of material and gear under tarps. Men hard at work on some of the sites, but, importantly, no one in the road. James floored it, shoving himself and Lincon back into their seats as Zhu rotated around him, talon still holding the steering wheel while he formed a more full winged limb along James¡¯ left arm. Behind them, James could actually see the driver of the pickup yelling something as whoever was riding shotgun with him pointed after their fleeing form. And then they abandoned subtlety entirely as they also hit the gas, trying to gain on James¡¯ fleeing sedan. They might be able to; this was a rental, after all, and speed locked by the company that the Order had borrowed it from. But James didn¡¯t need to go fast, just fast enough. The thing about Velocity was, it recharged based on three factors. Your relative speed compared to the planet, how much control you had of that speed, and how much Velocity you currently had, with more Velocity slowing down the process of raising it further. James and Zhu were technically splitting control of the car, though James probably got more of it from working the gas pedal. The spell Pave was not that expensive. Three Velocity, though that could still take a while to charge up at low speeds. But as a third car joined the two pursuers, and the construction workers threw expletives at their roaring passage, James and Zhu hit one of the mostly straight and empty lines they¡¯d mapped out days ago and accelerated to the point that three Velocity was coming in roughly every second. Both of them stuck their left side limbs out the window, air resistance flattening them back against the side of the car even for the partly ethereal navigator, but both of them still angled toward the pickup that was thundering after them as the driver decided that they eighty miles an hour was reasonable. ¡±Get fucked!¡± James and Zhu barked together at no one who could hear them. The first pair of Paves hit the side of the pickup truck, the force of the strikes not even scratching the paint. Neither James nor Zhu knew this, but that didn¡¯t stop them from casting again as soon as they could. And then again, and again, and again. Against the force of the air made more solid by the speed they were going, James could actually feel the Paves as they left him. Kinesis rippling around his fingers and palm before whipping away through the air, blind firing backward at a target he could only glimpse in his rearview mirror as he focused on keeping the car on the road and not slamming into any errant wildlife or contractors. Zhu handled the aiming, feathers tugging James¡¯ hand into position to keep up the directed torrent of force, adding his own shots downrange guided by the manifested eye in his long wing. The next shots hit the truck on the wing mirror. Then the frame. Then the windshield. Then Zhu held the two of them in place, letting the truck swerve as the driver panicked at the sudden impact. A metronome of hammering thuds as Pave after Pave hit the windshield in paired impacts, tracing a line across the surface. They didn¡¯t even crack the glass yet, just made an impact, but that was enough to startle someone who didn¡¯t expect their quarry of an unarmed young man to fight back. James could have just shot at them. But oddly, this was way easier than making bullets go where you wanted from a moving car, as a number of Horizon delves had taught the Order in a general way. Next to him, he registered Lincon yelling something as he looked backward between the seats. Ahead, he saw a curve coming up that he turned the wheel into, bleeding speed and dropping their rate of fire but playing it sort of safe. Behind, the curve gave Zhu just enough of an angle on their pursuers that he tracked James¡¯ hand backward and slammed a series of strikes across the hatchback¡¯s side, at least one of them going through the open window of the men who were probably having a grand time revving their engine on the empty road right up until someone nailed their driver in the head. In reality, it was only a single Pave clipping him in the ear. But the effect was so outsized that none of the escaping delvers would buy that. The driver let go of the wheel as he panicked, and at the speed they were going, hit the curb half a second later. A wheel exploded, and while the low center of gravity meant the car didn¡¯t flip, it did mean that their friend right behind them slammed into their rear end before going off the road themselves and into a hopper full of gravel at high speed. The pickup slammed on the brakes, all three men inside leaping out and running to their crashed companions, vanishing into the distance as James didn¡¯t let up on the speed. ¡±Pursuit shaken!¡± Zhu declared with a vibrating glee. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see if we can ramp off one of these trailer trucks!¡± ¡±Absolutely not.¡± James laughed, a thin and high pitched giggle as the adrenaline rush burned through his veins. It sounded like Zhu was dealing with a similar rush of euphoria; they¡¯d lived, they¡¯d made it, and they needed to calm down before trying to catch sweet air started to seem like a good idea. ¡°Get us a loop out of here. We can park in the house¡¯s garage, and then I need to get Planner down here to cloak this kid.¡± ¡±I¡¯m not a kid.¡± Lincon protested, white knuckles still tightly latched onto the car¡¯s available handholds. ¡±Oooooo. Dizzy.¡± Zhu muttered as James rolled the window back up. ¡°That was¡­ a lot. That was a good journey. I need to¡­ need to¡­¡± his feathers drooped across James¡¯ body. ¡±Get some rest.¡± James said softly, his own adrenaline crash offset by his worry for his friend. He had gotten cured of the Underburbs disease that gave him essentially magical diabetes, but Zhu hadn¡¯t, and the ongoing symptoms of that problem were still fucking with both their lives. ¡°I¡¯ll get us home.¡± ¡±Go left.¡± Zhu told him in a woozy voice. ¡±I¡¯ll go left.¡± James promised. ¡°Nap. We can get everything sorted out at the home base.¡± He sighed as Zhu faded back into his skin, looking over at Lincon. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ having a hard time.¡± He confided in the teenager. And Lincon said the magic words that made James instantly like a person more. ¡°Is he gonna be okay? Can I help or something?¡± ¡±I dunno.¡± James muttered. ¡°But hey. Let¡¯s get you to a safehouse with a shower and a bed. Definitely a shower.¡± He added, and Lincon pulled a face as he sniffed his own shirt. ¡°And then we can meet up with the others, and figure out how to break your friends out of church jail, break you all out of your conditioning, and then break everyone who thought this was even remotely okay.¡± He didn¡¯t comment on Lincon¡¯s face twisting in a riot of emotions, as some of that conditioning clearly still remained. ¡°Don¡¯t worry.¡± James tried to sound supportive and reassuring. ¡°Everyone else probably had a way easier day, and this¡¯ll be something we can wrap up by tomorrow afternoon.¡± ¡±Really?¡± Lincon asked, knowing he was walking into a trap. James sighed theatrically. ¡°No.¡± He admitted. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be surprised if the safehouse isn¡¯t on fire, and I bet you a dollar that someone tried to murder my boyfriend today.¡± As it turned out, when they got back to the nice home they¡¯d rented amid the suburban sprawl, James learned he was wrong. No one had technically started out trying to kill Arrush. Chapter 290 ¡°After more observation, we have decided to add a cement sphere from Target, that was obtained in a classified manner.¡± -Quiietjay, Longlegs Care Guide- _____ James arrived back at the rental home to find it looking exactly as pristinely suburban as ever. White painted siding, garden full of plants that could be attended to by sprinklers and not actual human attention, garage waiting to conceal his rental car, it was exactly as nice as it was before. He didn¡¯t feel like being charitable toward it in his thoughts though. The smell of old dust and oil in the garage, the feeling of an overworked air conditioner as he led Lincon through the slightly-stuck interior door to the house, the slight give of the linoleum under his shoes as he walked in. It all would have been a pleasant place to grow up. He should know; he¡¯d grown up in a place like this. But right now, it just felt like it was a reminder of what happened to communities when you spread people out too far. Suburbs didn¡¯t generate community. Because community required interactions, and, honestly, most humans were creatures of habit with a splash of laziness. In a world where an increasing amount of everyone¡¯s time was demanded by work just to survive, interactions that could develop into communities stopped happening unless they were forced. And in suburbia, those interactions weren¡¯t forced, cause you had two fences and a hundred feet between your back deck and your neighbor¡¯s. Space to live, fresh air, plant life in the area, these were all good things. But even without the advantage of magic, James knew humans could design it better. Design it in a way that made it so your options for meeting other people weren¡¯t just church or the grocery store. And that was why he was feeling uncharitable right now. Because this place, this whole society, had created the conditions under which at least a few people thought to themselves one day ¡°You know what would help with group cohesion? Mindfucking children and threatening them with violent monsters if they disobey us.¡± ¡°I¡¯m back!¡± James called into the house. ¡°And I brought someone along!¡± ¡°Up here!¡± Came Dance¡¯s heightened volume voice from upstairs. ¡°Did you get our messages?¡± James hadn¡¯t, so he pulled his phone out as he kicked off his shoes and took the carpeted stairs two at a time. ¡°No.¡± He said as he surmounted the steps, glancing back to see Lincon waiting at the bottom. ¡°Come on up, leave your shoes.¡± He told the teen as he walked down the hall to the bedroom. Peeking his head in through the open door of the pretentiously appointed room, he didn¡¯t see the others. ¡°Dance?¡± He asked, moving past the room he and Arrush shared to the hall bathroom. That was where he found them. Dance and Alice, the camraconda fidgeting as the human worked on bandaging her forearm. ¡°Oh hey.¡± Alice said in the calm voice of someone who was either way too practiced at this, or in shock. ¡°Good. You got my text.¡± Her voice sounded almost dead, which worried James a lot. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. What¡¯s up? Where¡¯s Arrush?¡± James was starting to pick up the panic that Alice should have been feeling. ¡±I don¡¯t know.¡± Alice said, before holding a piece of gauze with her teeth and cutting it down, her wrist to halfway up her right forearm now wrapped in the bandage. ¡°Dance, take over.¡± Alice ordered the camraconda, staring with disinterest at her dressing as she held her arm up to the bathroom light. ¡±Okay. Okay, okay. Shit.¡± Dance slithered out the bathroom and past James, slamming her head into the closet door. ¡°Shit. Fuck. Okay. I can do this.¡± James had never seen a camraconda hyperventilate before, but it looked like Dance was having a panic attack. He dropped to his knees next to her, resting his hands on his thighs as he shot a look to Lincon coming up the stairs. ¡°Take a deep breath. Take it slow. It¡¯s okay, everyone¡¯s okay. I need to know what happened, but take it at your own speed.¡± He said softly. Dance nodded, a whipping motion of her neck that threatened to either take a chunk out of the wall, or out of James. But she focused on breathing, focused on composing herself enough to talk. ¡°We went to the place. We met the person. They called someone, they tried to take Alice and I hostage. Had guns. They had guns. Arrush.¡± She stopped, in the way that camracondas usually did. Not trailing off, just stopping a sentence. ¡±Arrush. Where is he? Is he alright?¡± James tried not to let panic into his voice, but his heart felt like it was on fire and there was a rushing in his ears he couldn¡¯t stop. ¡°Dance? Is he okay?¡± The camraconda girl nodded again, then twisted to the side in indecision. ¡°He saved us. Saved us. Alice said no, they started shooting. Arrush is scary. Did you know Arrush is scary? Fuck. Shit. Can¡¯t talk. Right. Hate this.¡± ¡±I¡¯m learning.¡± James muttered. ¡°Is he here?¡± Dance shook her camera head again. ¡±No. Told us to run. Separated. He vanished. Said he would be okay.¡± James pressed his eyes closed and let out a long breath. Arrush wasn¡¯t dead, that was¡­ a place to start. ¡°Okay. What¡¯s wrong with Alice?¡± ¡±Shot. They shot her. Shot her.¡± Dance¡¯s hiss escalated into a high pitched momentary scream. ¡°I don¡¯t know first aid. So she used the hardening potion. To do it herself. No one answered our calls. Or texts.¡± ¡±That-¡° ¡±Got the book though.¡± Dance cut him off. ¡°Two books. Stole them. It¡¯s the rules. If you try to kidnap people, you can¡¯t be mad when those people take your shit.¡± ¡±¡­Okay I agree, in general.¡± James said, not wanting to have a conversation when what was needed now was for him to immediately teleport to wherever his newest boyfriend was. ¡°Lincon, get over here.¡± He motioned to the kid who was watching Dance with a mix of fear and concern. At James¡¯ motioning, Lincon did get closer though. ¡°Dance, this is Lincon.¡± ¡±Hi. You smell bad.¡± ¡±Hi. You¡¯re a snake.¡± ¡±I hear that a lot.¡± ¡±Same.¡± James rubbed at his forehead. ¡°Okay, banter over. Can you two¡­ keep an eye on each other, and everything else here? I have to go, now.¡± He also had to call Charlie, which he was trying to do via skulljack but getting no answer so far. So James defaulted to a wall of text that explained the situation. ¡°Lincon, there¡¯s a woman in the bathroom who¡¯s gonna be kinda cold for a while. That¡¯s a painkiller thing, not your fault. Dance, get him some lunch. Zhu, you awake?¡± James got no reply as he stood up and checked himself; Zhu was still down for the count after his last exertion. ¡°Great. Good. Cool.¡± He pulled his telepad out, referencing the address through his skulljack and writing as fast as he could without messing up the letters. ¡°Dance, was Arrush hurt? Bleeding?¡± She hissed a frantic laugh at him. ¡°He threw his blood at someone. So yes. Yes. Hurt. Bleeding.¡± ¡±Good.¡± James took a breath and went into the bathroom, nodding at Alice who watched him appraisingly as he pulled one of the sealed vials from the first aid bag, uncorked it, and downed the oxygenation potion. He¡¯d never really feel the effects, because he was about to start abusing it to the point that all it was going to do was keep him feeling normal. Unholstering his pistol, making sure it wasn¡¯t loaded with the seed rounds, and holding it in a confident grip pointed at the carpet, James lowered himself to a crouch. Then he exhaled Breath, quickly forming two simple ice arms; dumbed down replicas of his own arms and hands, minimal detail and sensation so he could keep them going on his rapidly regenerating Breath without freezing himself to death. ¡±Good luck?¡± Lincon asked him as he met James¡¯ eyes with uncertainty. James tried to give him a reassuring smile, but he couldn¡¯t manage it. Arrush was in trouble, and it was his fault, again. And James knew that wasn¡¯t exactly true, he knew that Arrush had the ability to make his own choices and that he¡¯d come here intentionally. That he helped because he did believe in the mission statement they had for the Order. That he wasn¡¯t, despite his age, a baby who James was responsible for the every action of. But that didn¡¯t matter. He could know all of that, and still feel a terror in his chest at how badly he¡¯d fucked up sending Arrush into another dangerous situation. Guilt at not going himself. Anger at¡­ at everything. James was feeling a lot of anger today. His Climb magic arms pulled the telepad page, and James appeared outside a modern medical building of glass and steel. Insistent but not forceful wind tugged at his hair and shirt as he appraised the area. A curved front of segmented windows with what looked like a badly placed long wooden desk inside for sorting out patients to the specialist offices they were here to visit. James triggered his leveler earring as soon as he landed, turning invisible for a brief period of time and leaving four more charges of the power until the bauble had a week or so to recover. It was a good thing he did, too, because the police and EMTs swarming the building were going to be a problem. He¡¯d landed in the shadow of an ambulance, lights flashing, with a half dozen cop cars in a semicircle around the building and what must have been everyone from the nearest fire station doing triage and evacuation of the other patients and staff. ¡±Back¡¯s clear!¡± James heard one of a pair of young cops yell out as they ran past. ¡°Sweeping upstairs!¡± ¡±They won¡¯t find anything.¡± A voice near James said, and he froze before remembering he couldn¡¯t be seen, circling the ambulance to get to the other side and out of view of the emergency responders while he eavesdropped. Another older male voice, talking with a thick accent like they just weren¡¯t interested in hitting the high points of the B¡¯s and T¡¯s, replied to the first speaker. ¡°You told me Duke.¡± They said, and James felt the ambulance rock slightly. He chanced a peek while the invisibility was going, and saw an older and fatter police officer who actually might be captain Mecham, leaning on the end of the wagon and talking to whoever was sitting and waiting to be treated. There was no sign of an EMT; maybe the cop had told them he needed a private word. ¡°You told me there¡¯d be no problems.¡± ¡±It wasn¡¯t our fault.¡± The man replying sounded middle aged, tired, and in the kind of pain that made someone grind their teeth without noticing. ¡±You let one of those things loose in broad daylight.¡± The officer sounded incensed, even with his mumbled words. ¡°Coulda killed people. God¡¯s name am I supposed to do about this?¡± ¡±It wasn¡¯t us.¡± The unseen man replied insistently. James saw himself come into view as the invisibility dropped, but there was no one watching and the crowd of civilians being kept back at the sidewalk and drawing attention were at an angle where the wagon blocked him from view from them too. ¡°They had their own demons! All of ours are gone now, the thing was a monster!¡± There was a deep inhale followed by a wheezing sigh. ¡°That¡¯s what you keep the things for, Duke.¡± The captain replied steadily. ¡°You¡¯re a lucky man their weapon didn¡¯t kill any of the flock or we¡¯d be having a very different conversation right now.¡± ¡±No, captain, you don¡¯t¡­ the big one, it wasn¡¯t dumb like ours. It wasn¡¯t feral. It was thinking like a man, it used weapons. It was mad at us.¡± ¡±That why Billy and Richter are dead?¡± The officer asked in the same thickly bored voice. James felt a sinking in his chest. Arrush had killed people. He¡¯d never wanted to put him in that situation. The man in the ambulance must have nodded or something, because the captain continued. ¡°Your experiment is getting out of control Duke. I¡¯m a good man, I keep my covenant, I know we need a heavy hand for the next generation. But this¡­?¡± The injured man leaned forward enough for James to see a flash of blond hair and a weathered face. ¡°It¡¯s a bump in the road, captain.¡± Duke said. ¡°We¡¯ll clean it up. They can¡¯t get far, I winged the¡­ woman. ¡± James got the impression he¡¯d been about to say something rude, but the police captain had glared the foul language out of him. ¡±You better fix it. I¡¯m not covering for you if this happens again Duke. I¡¯m not covering for you now.¡± The older man admonished the surviving kidnapper. ¡°I¡¯ll send the doc back over. Get yourself back together.¡± James circled the ambulance moving like he belonged as he kept part of the vehicle between himself and the police captain as the man also circled around toward his own car. Keeping his head down and eyeline away, James flexed his enhanced hearing as the man pulled a phone to his ear and gave a moist sigh, shaking his head and staring out at the crowd while he waited. ¡°Evening bishop.¡± He said when the call eventually connected. ¡°I¡¯m supposing you¡¯ve heard by now.¡± A pause. ¡°Two of your boys. Some of your friends too.¡± Another pause, longer this time, and James could hear shouting from the other end. ¡°Yelling won¡¯t fix it. God seen fit to let you call back the dead yet?¡± The pause this time was short because the captain cut in. ¡°Bishop. My boys are all good men. Godly men. But laws are laws. We had a deal. You get the night, and the kids, and anyone asking questions. You don¡¯t get gunfights in hospitals. Don¡¯t let it happen again.¡± The captain hung up. It was odd, James thought as he knelt down and out of sight of everyone in the shifting landscape of human emergency activity. He didn¡¯t¡­ hate this guy. The actual captain Mecham seemed like he was making a mistake and okay with assault and child abuse and stuff. But it also seemed like he had some rules to his behavior, and didn¡¯t actually know the full extent of things. James was absolutely going to try to find a way to ruin his career before this was over, but he could be a lot worse, and he wasn¡¯t, so that was worth a drop of respect. ¡±Alright.¡± James whispered. ¡°Arrush, where did you go.¡± He asked out loud, but really, he was asking his magic. Call to Blood, most useful and only tracking spell so far, pulsed out from James with a burst of cold and an attempt to drain his lungs that was rebuffed by the potion he¡¯d drank. It wasn¡¯t far. In fact, it was rather nearby. In the building that was currently being cordoned off by a wall of yellow tape and cops. For a moment, James felt a crushing anxiety, that the one useful option hadn¡¯t worked to point him in the right direction. But then realization set in, that the tug of directional information wasn¡¯t just pointing him inside, but upward. Not up to the second floor. Up to the roof. The odds that a rapid fight had sprawled that far were low. Which meant there was a chance, a good chance, that Arrush had made it to the roof, lost some blood there, and was waiting for recovery. A chance that James wasn¡¯t going to pass up. Also a chance that the two young men with guns who were sweeping the upstairs of the building for the ¡®active shooter¡¯ were going to stumble onto someone James did not want them to find. Invisibility again, another precious charge spent, but James didn¡¯t think he¡¯d need more than this one today. Rising up, he sprinted for the corner of the building, feet flinging him across the parking lot as he stopped keeping his tight tether on his body¡¯s unnatural acceleration. When he was about five feet from the building, he planted his next step in a crouch, and then shoved off the ground in the strongest jump he could manage. Which was actually quite strong. A purple orb he¡¯d never actually needed, never used, somehow, in all his stupid adventures. It might have been his first one, he couldn¡¯t remember. But either way, it gave him the vertical distance he needed to grab a window ledge, pulling himself up with two hands on the rain gutter while his other frozen hand grabbed the ledge of the next window up, rapidly hauling his body up with a mix of strength, magic, and more magic. He kept his gun out, just in case, because two extra arms afforded him a surprising amount of versatility. He knew from as soon as he got good with them in training why most ratroaches, while they chose to move their extra limbs, didn¡¯t choose to remove them. James was over the last lip of the building¡¯s front corner before his invisibility wore off, or he got winded, not that the latter was an option. He went over the edge on his side, rolling to a crouch with his gun up and ready as he swept his vision across the ventilation boxes of the well maintained roof. Another pulse of Call to Blood gave him a direction, and he started moving forward, rising to his normal walking height as he didn¡¯t see anyone on the roof, but not seeing anything where the spell was taking him either except for a lightly smoking pawprint of blue that wasn¡¯t even glowing strongly enough to be noticable under the blazing sun. ¡±Arrush?¡± James said out loud, hopeful. And was rewarded for his faith. ¡°Hhh-hello.¡± Arrush¡¯s voice was more of a pained rasp than normal; a thing James wished he didn¡¯t have to know, but noticed anyway. ¡°S-sorry.¡± ¡±What for this time.¡± James almost wanted to laugh with relief as he dropped his invisibility, and Arrush crawled around the end of the air conditioning unit he was slumped behind. ¡°Shit. Okay, come on, let¡¯s get out of here.¡± ¡±I¡­ I hurt¡­ people.¡± James holstered his pistol, figuring he wouldn¡¯t need it for sure now on the empty roof, and crouched near Arrush, quickly marking his telepad for their rental home that was soon going to have two bleeding people in it. ¡°Were those people pointing guns at you?¡± ¡±¡­yes.¡± ¡±Then-¡° ¡±I know you don¡¯t care.¡± Arrush said, coughing. ¡°I care. I could have¡­ brought¡­ batons or prods. Not knives. Didn¡¯t plan. I didn¡¯t think.¡± He slipped between English and Spanish as he blinked his multitude of eyes at James in an uneven pattern. James gnawed at his lip as he finished writing, and looked up at Arrush. ¡°We can talk about it later. It¡¯ll be okay. You¡¯ll be okay, and everything is fine.¡± He lied, shoving back panic. Both of them flinched as the interior stairwell door slammed open and the sound of people running onto the roof reached them. ¡°You can do what I do and worry about what went wrong later, but right now, let¡¯s get out of here.¡± James offered him a hand and Arrush took it without hesitation, the dregs of his blood from where he¡¯d kept a would pressed closed stinging James¡¯ skin before they both vanished and reappeared in the garage of the house. The next hour became a hazy blur to James, and not just because he took a mild painkiller to deal with the throbbing pain in his recent wounds that he¡¯d made worse by climbing a building and pulling at the stitches. Checking Alice¡¯s bandages and making sure she¡¯d actually gotten the bullet out of her arm had come first. Then ordering her to sit on the couch and wait for the hardening potion to wear off. This part included getting Dance to stop panicking, and so James gave her the job of watching Alice. Which would do nothing to burn off any nervous energy, but he didn¡¯t know what camracondas did about that in the first place. After that, he quickly got Lincon sorted out, giving him one of the basement beds to sleep in, on the condition that he take a shower first, and making sure he knew he was allowed to eat anything from the kitchen. Lincon was roughly James¡¯ size, so he got a spare set of James¡¯ travel clothes while his own went through the wash. The whole process was a lot of James pointing at things and giving explicit permission to make use of them, which he sort of recognized in himself as how he helped rescued Sewer creatures transition to their new lives. But he didn¡¯t let himself emotionally engage with any of it; he wanted to be quick, and he couldn¡¯t take handling Lincon pretending he wasn¡¯t crying right now. Next was another call to Charlie to update him, which the guy didn¡¯t pick up. At this point, with everything going on, James was pretty sure he was in trouble, so checking on where Charlie had gone was next on his list. But at least he trusted the man to more or less handle himself. And then there was Arrush. ¡±Take your paw back.¡± James said softly, holding an alcohol swab. ¡°This is going to st¡­ okay, this might sting. You might not notice, I don¡¯t know.¡± He pressed the cloth into the gash on Arrush¡¯s stomach and got a whimpering chitter from the ratroach before the noise was suppressed. The injury was from the deflection of a bullet off Arrush¡¯s stomach chitin, and that part of him was crushed and cracked in a way James had no idea how to treat. He didn¡¯t even know if that did regenerate on a ratroach, but was already looking up Order medical studies in his head. ¡±Doesn¡¯t hurt.¡± Arrush lied easier than he breathed as he fidgeted with one of his antenna that had been damaged; the burrs on the end of it had ripped off, which they were technically ¡®supposed¡¯ to do, but it still left sensitive exposed flesh until the keratin regrew. James pursed his lips, but didn¡¯t countermand Arrush on that obvious falsehood. Instead, he checked to make sure this injury didn¡¯t have a bullet in it, pressed the special gauze Deb had supplied that didn¡¯t burn on contact with ratroach blood to the oozing wound, and fixed it in place with medical tape. ¡°You¡¯re lucky this stuff sticks to chitin.¡± Even now, he felt like he should be saying something. ¡±Unlucky about the fur.¡± Arrush sounded like he was trying to banter, but his more exhausted than usual rasp made it hard to believe he was in good spirits. ¡±You did exactly the right thing.¡± James said, rocking on his heels as he stared at Arrush¡¯s patchwork stomach. ¡°This was never supposed to happen. Just this once, this was supposed to be¡­¡± ¡±Peaceful?¡± Arrush asked with a small grin. ¡±I dunno, not this.¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± The ratroach huffed, placing a pair of hands on James¡¯ head. ¡±I¡¯m not.¡± He said, surprising the human still watching his body carefully and wondering if more medical tape was needed. ¡°Calmer now. You¡­ you¡¯re right. They tried to take our friends. They tried to kill them. If I¡­ if I weren¡¯t there, this would be¡­¡± ¡±Worse.¡± James whispered. ¡±Worse.¡± Arrush agreed, weaving his filed claws into James¡¯ hair, anxiety that he was overstepping flaring up. ¡°So I¡¯m not sorry. If they wanted to live, they shouldn¡¯t have been¡­ monsters.¡± He finished. James leaned forward, pressing his face against Arrush¡¯s leg as he hugged his newest partner. ¡°That¡¯s reductive and a terrible way to look at things but also you¡¯re not wrong and I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay.¡± A wet laugh sounded overhead, and James looked up at the ratroach standing over him to see Arrush covering the edges of his muzzle. ¡°I was shot.¡± He argued lightly as he covered a chittering laugh. A laugh that kept going, becoming a shaking, uncontrollable sound, as all the panic and fear finally caught up to him. Before James could come up with some kind of retort to that comment, or something to say to calm Arrush down, there was a pop of air by the house¡¯s front door near the bathroom he was treating Arrush¡¯s injury in, and the noise of voices. Well, one voice, mostly. ¡±¡­not the right place then I¡¯ll just apologize!¡± Momo declared as she swung the front door open with a wooden thud, probably damaging the wall somehow. ¡°And if it is¡­¡± She paused as she saw through the foyer bathroom door, James knelt on the floor in front of Arrush who was currently holding him in a hug with a pair of arms. ¡°¡­you guys need some time? This seems like I¡¯m interrupting.¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. James groaned, standing up at his own pace, carefully navigating Arrush¡¯s hug so he didn¡¯t have to either break free or jostle either of their wounds. ¡°What are you doing here you gremlin?¡± He asked Momo as she strode in, thick red bathrobe swishing around her legs, and dropped a heavy backpack on the floor with one hand while she carefully set down a solid metal case with the other. Behind her, two more people trailed into the house, having decided that apparently it was the right place if Momo wasn¡¯t being kicked out. ¡°Are you our replacement rogues?¡± ¡±I am the only rogue present.¡± Rho stated, the golden retriever form motivated by the inhabitor living within walking past Momo as he talked. ¡°And I am not trained fully.¡± Ink-And-Key followed them in cautiously, the sizable white cabled camraconda ducking his head at the door even though he didn¡¯t come close to needing to. ¡±None of us are trained fully. How would you even start to fully train a knight.¡± ¡±You don¡¯t.¡± James said. ¡°You just keep getting better. Welcome to North Smiths.¡± ¡±Is there a South Smiths? This is important.¡± Momo instantly asked. ¡±Yes?¡± She grinned, rubbing her hands together. ¡±Good.¡± ¡°Do we¡­¡± James stopped himself from asking if they got to know why she cared. It wasn¡¯t important, and he trusted that if it really mattered, Momo would say something. He didn¡¯t have time for this right now. He didn¡¯t even really want to ask Momo why she was here with a motley crew, instead of more specialized rogues to replace the ones who were rotating out. So he didn¡¯t ask. He checked. Myles had messaged them about it while James was distracted to explain, so that solved most of the confusion quickly, and also really made James appreciate working with people that knew how to communicate. The short answer was all the rogues were busy. Even Nate, who was apparently not taking a break at all, and was leading a group doing further research into Priority Earth up in Alaska. Others were scattered across the US looking for signs and following the trails of different pillars. And between that, some of their best people being off on James¡¯ imposed ritual paladin right of passage, and a lot of their other best people with responsibilities to maintain the Order¡¯s momentum in regards to things like delves, there weren¡¯t many people ¡®available¡¯ who actually had training for dangerous situations. Which was not to say that Momo, Rho, and Ink-And-Key were the bottom of the barrel. James would trust any of them at his back at any time. They were all dangerous and skilled, even if at least two of them were more neurotic than everyone else in the house combined. They were just the ones who weren¡¯t doing something more critical, who said yes. Also there was a followup message from Yin stating that they¡¯d be putting more and more people on standby as they became available. The Order¡¯s first shield team was also on standby. In case they did need straight up combat prowess, for a situation where six trained soldiers with rifles would be worth the innate problems of deploying six trained soldiers with rifles. ¡±Momo, are you even supposed to be standing up?¡± James asked bluntly. ¡±Nope!¡± She replied with a brittle grin. ¡°Hip hurts like fuck, so maybe I should get a couch or something?¡± James sighed and let go of Arrush. ¡±Everyone needs to sit down.¡± He said. And when he said it, he especially meant himself. ¡°But there¡¯s no time. Charlie is missing, and I need-¡° ¡±I will go.¡± Rho said simply as James led them into the living room, where Dance and Alice looked at the new arrivals with different levels of attention. ¡°I am untrained, but have a unique advantage as a rogue.¡± ¡±What¡¯s that?¡± Dance asked, suddenly curious. ¡°Oh! Do you have special spy magic? That¡¯d be cool!¡± Any other time, James would have wanted to spend an hour just talking about Rho¡¯s facial expression. There was already a barrier between human and dog faces; dogs didn¡¯t have the same cultural or biological tells that humans did. They didn¡¯t really raise their eyebrows or purse their lips, for one reason or another. Reasons like ¡®not having lips¡¯. When you added to that the fact that Rho wasn¡¯t actually a dog, but something essentially wearing a dog body, it added another link to the tenuous chain of expression. Rho, like all inhabitors, could have emotions, but had been created with raw intellect before emotional experience. So, he had to learn, over time, how to feel. How to not lock it down and shove it away. For him, expressions were breaks in a mask that he had lived for several years feeling compelled to keep up out of safety. And now, at the end of the chain, was this combined person¡¯s life with the Order, slowly opening up and learning to be part of a group where communication came from multiple angles. And that person had an expression that wasn¡¯t quite ¡°dog¡±, or ¡°inhabitor¡±, or even ¡°Order¡±, but something uniquely alien as he stared at Dance, trying to understand if her comment had been one of those jokes that he heard about so much. ¡°No.¡± The golden retriever said eventually. ¡°I do not.¡± The camraconda sagged in disappointment. ¡±Oh. That would have been neat.¡± She said, dejected. ¡±Dance, he¡¯s a dog.¡± Alice said from the couch, her own emotional deadening lessening to the point that she felt like she wanted to jump in. ¡°Charlie¡¯s missing?¡± She asked, and got a nod from James. ¡°Rho, right? Be careful. And thank you.¡± ¡±I am always careful. Look. A disguise.¡± Rho suddenly changed. Not physically, but while only a second ago there was another person in the room, now there was a dog. Just a golden retriever, panting lightly, staring at Alice before getting bored and turning to go sit on the hardwood floor. Arching an eyebrow, James nodded from his own cushioned seat. The inhabitor ability to mask as who they used to be was rather fascinating when it was an animal body. ¡°That¡¯s really good.¡± He said, his brain starting to fog over as he stopped pushing himself hard enough for Endurance to keep him going. ¡°I¡­ am just gonna close my eyes for a minute. If you find anything, let me know.¡± ¡±And¡­ me.¡± Arrush said, settling against James. ¡°Charlie is¡­ a good person.¡± Not just in general, either. Arrush was used to being an outsider, even in the Order. One of the first ratroaches to come out, and right after the Order had taken in survivors of a massed attack by others that looked just like him. Most people were understanding, most people were kind, and the Order was still an infinitely better place than his and Keeka¡¯s origin. But even still, the instant, default acceptance Charlie had for him had been¡­ it had made him feel like a person, in a way that he hadn¡¯t been expecting. Arrush hoped Charlie was safe. And if he needed to kill more bad humans to make that happen, he¡¯d do it. Dance got Momo and Rho set up with a telepad there and back. Momo didn¡¯t get to sit on the couch; she got to lounge on a park bench relatively nearby, and wait to be Rho¡¯s extraction when the guy with no hands needed an escape. Which meant she had to quickly ditch the bathrobe, so she didn¡¯t attract her own brand of chaotic attention. And then they were gone, leaving James with Arrush leaning against him and warming him up too much even through the air conditioning. Alice slowly coming back to her live emotions, though with enough time and thought to not freak out over her injury or the situation. And Dance and Ink-And-Key having a muted conversation about whether or not they should even be here. ¡±I feel,¡± James said to the room, but no one specific, ¡°like I would rather be in Alaska with everyone else, trying to investigate the eco terrorists.¡± ¡±Are they?¡± Ink-And-Key asked, slowly curving his head around, towering over where Dance was still mostly stretched out on the floor reading her manga. James slowly lolled his head around to look at him, raising his eyebrows as best he could while feeling like he was about to pass out. ¡°Ecoterrorsts. Are they? We call them that, but we haven¡¯t seen them do any terroring. And we do similar things. We fight when we think it is needed, like them, yes? Ah. I¡¯m sorry. I do not mean to question.¡± James blinked, worried by how quickly Ink-And-Key seemed to shift through defensive to panicked in his words. ¡°I¡­¡± he cleared his throat, wincing as even that simple motion made his side hurt. ¡°Yes. I mean, yes we have. They killed a bunch of people. Though, to be fair, I understand being angry at the people who are complicit in a system that is killing our world. Though also to be fair, they also killed a bunch of bystanders and I don¡¯t think that ¡®personal assistant at an investment bank office¡¯ is a title that deserves death. I guess the coal plant thing counts, sort of, but that was obviously before some kind of shift in their ideology, so¡­¡± Ink-And-Key stared at him as he trailed off, before looking away again. ¡°It¡¯s not important.¡± He said. ¡±Kinda is.¡± Alice said with a woozy grunt as she pulled herself forward. ¡°Hey kiddo.¡± She murmured softly to Dance. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡±It¡¯s been better.¡± The younger and smaller camraconda admitted before bouncing back. ¡°Oh! But now I¡¯m the only one who hasn¡¯t screwed something up here! I declare myself in charge.¡± Alice snorted, poking Dance with a toe. ¡°Nice try kiddo. But yeah, Ink¡¯s kinda not wrong.¡± ¡±Oh, now I am curious how I am failing.¡± Ink-And-Key did legitimately look curious, even if his words sounded self-deprecating. If it was meant as emotional bait of some kind, Alice just ignored it. ¡°Priority Earth haven¡¯t done any terrorism.¡± She said with a shrug, one hand wrapping around the bandaging on her arm. ¡°James, back me up on this. They don¡¯t actually use fear as a weapon, do they?¡± ¡±¡­nnnnnno.¡± James sat up, getting a cough and a jerk from Arrush who had already dozed off against him in a beautiful display of trust. ¡°No, they don¡¯t, do they? They kill people, but I think the whole point of their hypnoplant was that it was informationally self-containing. They certainly used the Wolfpack as a weapon, but the messages sent were¡­ also pretty limited. Like, these weren¡¯t public executions, even if it did happen in corporate offices mostly, right?¡± ¡±You could say they¡¯re using fear as a tactic against the investment firms, but like, wasn¡¯t there a thing about how no one remembered the attacks at all?¡± Alice asked. ¡±Yeah, shit, right. Sorry, it¡¯s been a few crises since this came up.¡± James apologized. ¡°Anyway, Ink-And-Key, you¡¯re right.¡± The camraconda hissed as he tilted his head like he was about to say something, but James limply held up a hand. ¡°We don¡¯t have a complete picture. And¡­ we do get in fights. We¡¯re doing it here, again, in a perfect highlighting of why diplomacy and peace are so much better than not knowing who¡¯s going to try to murder you. But there¡¯s an important line we don¡¯t cross, which is that we don¡¯t kill people for things we think are problems.¡± Dance rolled up against Alice¡¯s legs, laying on her back to stare up at James leaning on Arrush, who was pretending he wasn¡¯t dozing off again already with his septet of eyes narrowed. ¡°We could do the assassinations without collateral?¡± She asked. ¡±Dance!¡± Alice barked angrily. James frowned sharply too, and saw the young camraconda shrink back as he realized he was glaring at her. Trying to soften his expression and keep his voice steady, he took a breath to answer. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°Self defense is one thing. But the farther and farther we get from that, the more likely it is we kill people who we never should have even considered. The more likely we fuck up. We fuck up all the time. We need our behavior to be such that our fuckups are¡­¡± ¡±Survivable.¡± Arrush muttered into James¡¯ hair. ¡°For everyone.¡± James nodded along with the words, jutting his thumb at Arrush to punctuate it. ¡±I was sorry,¡± Ink-And-Key said in his steady digital tone, ¡°because you are all tired. And I didn¡¯t want to start a heavy conversation. And I said something silly, and it started a heavy conversation. I did not mean to cause this. I was not feeling guilt for questioning the Order.¡± he swayed in an s of a curve, body winding back and forth as he rose up over the living room. ¡°Please go sleep. I worry about you all. We will keep an eye on things while you rest.¡± He said, indicating Dance¡¯s curled form on the scratchy living room carpet. ¡±I don¡¯t want to sleep, it¡¯s, like, barely afternoon.¡± James complained as he yawned, body betraying him. He could have forced himself to move, and his Endurance would have kicked in. But even though he was griping, he knew he needed rest and time to heal, even if it was just a few hours for his different magical improvements to do their work. So he got into the bed with the awkwardly stiff sheets, and the awkwardly unfamiliar Arrush, though being mutually injured and exhausted and also exploring their growing love for each other went a long way toward making that part more comfortable. Downstairs, Alice just refused to leave the couch, while Ink-And-Key and Dance ¡®kept watch¡¯, which James felt wasn¡¯t really a thing. He almost forgot Lincon was in the basement, and he knew he¡¯d need to talk to the kid in a bit. James knew they couldn¡¯t shift the entire might of the Order around for everything that came up. The whole point of having more capable people was to be able to deal with more issues at a time. But he kinda wished that Sarah and everyone in her relationstick network would teleport down here and let him cut through to the heart of the problem. And also compress a nap into a few seconds and not a few hours. ¡±Oh, that¡¯s what we should have brought. A green orb for rest time or something.¡± James muttered. ¡±Sleep.¡± Arrush told him, tentatively wondering if he was allowed to cuddle up with the human. ¡°Stop thinking.¡± To that, James just laughed. ¡°I can¡¯t just fall asleep.¡± He said sadly. ¡°Even now, when I really do feel like I¡¯m nodding off for a dozen reasons, I¡¯m not really ¡®sleeping¡¯. I don¡¯t know how you do it, honestly. And I don¡¯t think I can stop thinking. I¡¯m worried about Charlie, worried about if Rho gets into trouble, worried about Lincon¡¯s friends, worried about the other missing people. Hell, I¡¯m worried about the chanters, the other human recovering Status Quo prisoners, the necroads, the new Camille, the new paladins, and the fact that we¡¯re giving magical electricity production away just to make it happen. I¡¯m always thinking, and it¡¯s usually worry based. Oh, the Underburbs! I can worry about that too, I forgot that one. I could make a list. Half of it¡¯s just dungeon names, I guess. And that librarian that freaked us out the day before we headed down here. And¡­¡± James was propped up with his pillow folded under his head, not quite laying down so falling asleep would be harder. Next to him, facing him but with his arms not quite reaching James, Arrush lay splayed out on the bed only half under the blanket, body curved into an arc that ended with his bifurcated tail wrapping around James¡¯ leg on reflex. It gave James an excellent angle to see his boyfriend¡¯s face, a blend of insect and rodent features cobbled together into a triangular muzzle, finally relax as he let go of consciousness and dropped into sleep. For Arrush, sleeping in hostile situations was a skill he¡¯d honed for a long time. He¡¯d needed to. And in comparison to the Akashic Sewer, here was easy. He had a bed, and a person he trusted. Sleep was simple, and he¡¯d take whatever he could while his painkiller potion was still in effect. And it was even easier listening to James talk. Keeka did almost exactly the same thing, thoughts getting sidetracked and swept away on tangents, softly but excitedly speaking about music he was enjoying or new people he¡¯d met in the Order¡¯s halls. And just like with James, now, it always soothed Arrush¡¯s own racing thoughts and anxieties to hear his boyfriend talk so enthusiastically about life. Like being alive was something that was wonderful, and not just something they tolerated because it seemed like the least bad option. Even when what James was saying was a list of worries, big and small, the fact that he was here made Arrush feel safe. Even with the paired smell of two species¡¯ blood in his nose, the scent of James¡¯ shampoo was still the only thing he could really focus on. And he was out like a light before the raven-haired human had even finished listing off all the different refugees he cared for. James didn¡¯t join Arrush in sleep. But he did lay down for a while, catching up on alchemy reports through his skulljack while he waited to hear about the next step of their investigation, and the next problem waiting in the wings. _____ Rho began his infiltration directly, after breaking off from Momo. When you looked like a friendly golden retriever, you could get away with functionally anything. If Rho had wanted to shoplift, he would have become internet famous before anyone would have ever considered stopping him. Killing someone would probably get negative attention, but even then he wasn¡¯t sure. When you were a well behaved dog, especially a breed that humans coded as friendly, Rho found you could really just go sit in a public building and act like you were waiting for someone, and everyone would leave you alone except to invade your personal space. Equipped with a collar that had Momo¡¯s phone number on the tag, and a skulljack braid that was imbued with a high orb cost to blend into his fur, Rho had simply walked across the baking hot parking lot for the meetinghouse that Charlie had vanished from, and planted himself near the door. There were people coming and going, and more than a few gave him looks that said they were excited to see a dog. But, being mature adults, they refrained from trying to pet him, which was both a grim state of affairs for humans to have conditioned themselves to, but also convenient for Rho. He waited, sometimes pacing the building, marking out where the windows were, and noting that there were four alternate entrances. Two opposed side doors that seemed to lead to the same central brown carpet and fluorescent light hallway, one back door up an external wooden staircase that was likely a staff entrance. And one set of concrete steps that went down into the building¡¯s foundation, to a heavy steel door underneath the ground floor. Sitting in the dead zone between the building and the next door elementary school, Rho considered his options. There were a few potential methods, but one stood out as he saw a sedan pulling into the parking lot with a human in it that he recognized from the dossier. The decision then was a quick one; while he did technically understand that he was feeling trepidation, perhaps even nervous anxiety, that feeling was incredibly dull and muted, and he had a job to do. So he acted without any reservation that a human rogue might have if they¡¯d borrowed his body for the day. Retaking his spot by the door, it wasn¡¯t long until the next human came by. And when he did, Rho deployed his most potent weapon. Wagging. Happily staring up at the ruggedly grey haired man as he reached for the door, Rho fidgeted slightly on the hot sidewalk. The damage from the heat wasn¡¯t enough to get past what he could rapidly repair as an inhabitor, so he had to act on purpose instead of just giving in to the feeling. It still worked though. ¡°Did someone leave you out here boy? Hmm?¡± The old man gave Rho a lopsided grin. ¡°Got a collar and everything. Hm.¡± He looked around the parking lot, before turning his grandfatherly smile back on the golden retriever and speaking with a stern tone. ¡°Come on boy. Inside. We¡¯ll see who thought leaving you here was a good idea.¡± Rho obeyed happily, wagging his tail as he walked through the door into the vestibule, and then following the old man further into the religious building. ¡±Well aren¡¯t you well behaved.¡± The bishop spoke partly to Rho but mostly to himself as the inhabitor fell in at a heel. Passing through an open room with a big chandelier overhead and a staircase up the side wall, past the hall that led to what looked like private meeting rooms, through the main room with neatly laid out benches and a stage and pedestal at the end, until eventually reaching a side door at the back that the man rapped on a few times with a gnarled but sturdy hand. ¡°Russel? You around?¡± A voice sounded from inside, and the man opened the pale wood office door. Rho let himself in first, getting a low chuckle from the bishop who¡¯d let him in. Inside, a younger human man sat behind a desk, blonde hair and a clean pressed white shirt. Younger, but not by much. The desk was set parallel to the door, which was a way Rho didn¡¯t often see offices laid out, but the room seemed to be formatted so humans could have conversations sitting across from each other in the uncomfortable looking chairs. ¡°Carl, why¡¯s there a dog in the meetinghouse? Finally go blind and decide you needed some help?¡± ¡±Some idiot left the poor mutt outside.¡± Carl shut the door. ¡°Felt like doing something good today.¡± ¡±You¡¯re already doing something good today.¡± ¡±Doesn¡¯t feel like it, Russel.¡± The older human said as Rho laid down and set his head on crossed paws. He legitimately did like the cool air more than the outside, so it wasn¡¯t much of a stretch to feign a polite disinterest in what the humans were talking about. ¡°He knew too much. And I just got word that his friends didn¡¯t go quietly.¡± Russel stood up behind his desk, casually kicking his chair back to impact a bookshelf. ¡°Well, there were always going to be setbacks.¡± He said as if he were discussing the unusual heat and wind, and not human lives. Rho decided he agreed with the Order¡¯s general ethos that people should not speak this way. ¡°They¡¯re taken care of though, and they can join their friend in a cell until we can bring them around to the light.¡± He moved to clap the old man on the shoulder with smile. ¡°It¡¯s all working out Carl. You¡¯ve gotta have some faith.¡± But Carl didn¡¯t let the friendly gesture land, slapping aside the younger human¡¯s hand. ¡°It¡¯s not taken care of.¡± He snapped. ¡°And you know, I had an interesting talk with Mecham today. Whoever I handed our snoop off to, he didn¡¯t end up in a cell. In fact, Mecham doesn¡¯t know where he is.¡± ¡±Hm. An escape? That does make things awkward.¡± The younger bishop said, brushing his fingers against his hair to move it back into flawless position. Carl was having none of it. ¡°Did you have them killed? I told you-¡° The younger man flicked a hand. ¡°Nothing like that. They¡¯re fine, they¡¯re just not in a prison that anyone will ever find. You worry too much! God provides, but only if we make use of the gifts, Carl.¡± That was good for Rho to know. That meant Charlie was alive. Carl didn¡¯t take the news as well though. ¡°Where did you put him, Russ?¡± ¡°I wonder how they¡¯re remembering at all.¡± Russel frowned as he looked back at Carl with cold eyes, ignoring the question. ¡°The others, there was a human and something else, wasn¡¯t there? If they¡¯re still alive, we¡¯ll need to pin them down before they get too far. Our friend used up theirs on the investigator who got away, so I¡¯ll need your help with these.¡± Carl folded his arms as he took one of the uncomfortable padded chairs, settling one leg over the other as he stared up at his junior bishop. ¡°That takes three days to be useful and a week to be good. You know I don¡¯t have time for that.¡± ¡±Someone has to clean this up Carl.¡± Russel shook his head sadly as he paced past the end of his desk, a hand seeming to subconsciously come to rest on a pile of wide books that Rho suspected were all spellbooks. ¡±Apologies for the language in the house of God, but fuck you Anderson.¡± Carl said stiffly. ¡°This is too messy. Too out of control. We got a head start on everything, but we need to go public with this now, and keep our hands on the story of it. We can¡¯t just start fights with people and expect this to go our way. It didn¡¯t work out for Smith, chosen by God or not, and it won¡¯t work out for us now that the tyrants in the White House have drones and tanks.¡± Russel sighed, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes as he shook his head. ¡°Let me worry about that friend. Well, not just me.¡± Rho watched them through half closed canine eyes, and his read on the body language was that Russel was looking for something specific in Carl. Trying to make a decision. Whatever that choice was, he came to a conclusion as quickly as Rho had earlier. ¡°Bishop Young, you¡¯re a pious man. I think it¡¯s time we trusted you with something more important than the surface level.¡± ¡±The divine touch of God¡¯s hand through literal miracles that come out of books and the enemy of actual demons was the surface level?¡± Carl cocked a single eyebrow, and Rho realized that he might need to make sure that this man and James never met. They might get along too well. ¡°We¡¯re engaged in a huge criminal conspiracy Russ. And don¡¯t tell me that it¡¯s not criminal if the laws aren¡¯t written. Righteous or not, we can¡¯t just-¡° ¡±There¡¯s more you don¡¯t know.¡± Russel said sternly. ¡°But you¡¯re a good man Carl. The kind of man we want.¡± He stepped behind his desk, plucking a pen with long fingers out of a cup, and writing something down on a piece of paper that he tore from its notepad and handed over. ¡°Our meeting time has been moved up a bit in light of our recent problems. Tonight, ten PM. Don¡¯t bring the dog, please? Maybe if I reassure you that we have it under control, you¡¯ll feel better about helping me with the miracle to pin our interlopers.¡± Carl took the paper, looking at it before folding it in half and standing. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± He said bluntly, voice too loud in the small room. There was a timid knock on the door, and Rho turned his head to look, the motion getting attention from the two religious leaders in the room who seemed to have forgotten he was there. ¡°You don¡¯t have to like it.¡± Russel said as he looked back at his older friend. ¡°But if you decide not to show up, then consider your involvement ended. Now. I have a counseling session, and I need my office. Please take the dog away. I don¡¯t like them.¡± Standing up, paper crumpled in his hand, Carl just shook his head. ¡°More mistakes won¡¯t fix the old mistakes.¡± He warned, before whistling sharply. ¡°Come on boy.¡± He told Rho, who begrudgingly stood and followed him as he opened the door to reveal a lanky young man standing there turning a blue bound book in his hands. ¡°Go on in, he¡¯s in fine form today.¡± Carl said, voice abruptly smiling and warm as he gave the young human a reassuring nod. Behind them, Rho could hear Anderson¡¯s falsely inviting voice. ¡°Come in, come in. Now, have you been doing your special reading for-¡° The words cut off as Carl shut the door, and started walking - or perhaps stalking - out. Rho followed out of the mostly empty place, passing only a couple other young humans who were working on cleaning the interior. It was so easy, to simply walk in and walk out again. Though now he had one last piece of intelligence to gather before he would feel satisfied in making an escape. It wasn¡¯t hard. At the corner to the hallway, a soft bump against the elderly human¡¯s hand knocked the paper out to flutter down to the floor. Rho, behaving like a perfectly normal curious dog would, sniffed at the object before looking back up at Carl. The human just looked down at the dropped object with his secret meeting location on it with a sad exhaustion on his face. ¡°Most signs from God don¡¯t come with fur.¡± He said quietly, not moving to pick up the directions. Rho, already having memorized the address, made a decision. A golden retriever could get away with a lot of things. Like randomly eating paper. And no one would question it. Certainly not an old man who didn¡¯t want to go in the first place. ¡±No, you stupid¡­!¡± Carl started to lean down, aching old bones protesting as he reached for the already devoured paper. But Rho had taken decisive action, and there was nothing left for him to recover. ¡°¡­Well then. Aren¡¯t you just a little devil.¡± He said with no heat to the words, setting a hand on Rho¡¯s head as he pushed himself back to his feet. ¡°Maybe¡­¡± He trailed off, keeping his thoughts to himself as he walked at a slower pace to the front door, Rho keeping up with him like a good dog. As soon as the front door was open, Rho just wandered off, ignoring the shouts from the old man, though he felt a small pang of a new emotion as he heard Carl start laughing with what seemed to be earnest joy. The inhabitor traced a path in a straight line past the school, around to its back playground, and out into one of those territory lines that ran through the suburban area where nothing had been built but most of the life had been stifled. Dry grass and hot dirt crunching underpaw as he took off at full speed, bounding in a sprint that was as natural as the body¡¯s previous owner knew how to make it. Rho took a half dozen turns, made sure he was being neither followed nor observed, and then pinged Momo using an easily compromised wifi signal from a nearby house. When she showed up, he cut off her attempt to make a show of how naughty a runaway dog he was. Because he knew their next move now, and while he wasn¡¯t aware of where Charlie had been taken, he knew where several people who would know would be meeting tonight. So, James was going to need to wake up. Because Rho wasn¡¯t going to spy on a meeting alone, and he didn¡¯t trust Momo to not cause a problem. Quite the opposite really. It was almost her speciality. James didn¡¯t cause problems, he just happened to be around when they occurred. Rho rethought his plan. This might require a defter touch than the inhabitor was used to. Chapter 291 ¡°Security at the expense of usability comes at the expense of security.¡± -AviD¡¯s Rule Of Usability- _____ From James¡¯ perspective, there was surprisingly little gap between Momo and Rho¡¯s declared ¡°we know where a secret cult meeting is¡± and the actual process of infiltrating that meeting. It wasn¡¯t even that hard, which James found a little insulting. They just walked in, invisible. Him and Momo. The meeting wasn¡¯t taking place in some kind of heavily trapped and puzzle filled spooky mansion, it wasn¡¯t in an ornately appointed temple, it was just¡­ in an office. Property management company, a big local one; the cultists were using the conference room with the comfortable chairs, according to an overheard conversation. And of course they had access, because three of them worked here and it wasn¡¯t like anyone was going to steal pens or anything. ¡±I find this deeply uncomfortable.¡± James admitted quietly to Momo as he fumbled his hand behind a security camera, trying to plug in the cable that would let the specialized grown program do its job. ¡±Is this a sex joke?¡± Momo¡¯s voice coming from her invisible form threw him off, as she¡¯d apparently started going through the secretary¡¯s desk. ¡°Because we¡¯re not really that close right now. And if you wanna invite me to your polycule, you¡¯ll have to have El as a meta, and that¡¯s gonna be awkward for both of you, and I¡¯ll have to hear about how she shot you that one time.¡± James clicked the cable into place, waited out the last ten seconds of his invisibility just to be sure the program had time to engage and make sure the camera wouldn¡¯t show him, and then turned on Momo who was clearing a space on the desk to open up her hard shelled case. ¡°How would this be a sex joke?¡± He asked, exhausted. ¡±You, fumbling behind something in the dark, trying to find a slot? Come on. You date Alanna, you know.¡± Momo waggled her now-visible eyebrows. Not at him, just in general, like she assumed James would pick up on it. Sadly, he did. ¡±Alanna is a lot of things, but I don¡¯t think she measures up to your idea of how crass people are.¡± James tried to keep a straight face, and definitely kept his voice down. They were sorta out in the open, one floor over a conference room that they planned to spy on, and while the building was probably empty, James didn¡¯t know if any of the targets had shown up early. ¡°Come on, focus. Also what the hell is that?¡± He motioned to what Momo was messing with as he climbed off the chair he¡¯d been perched on. ¡°Is that a Pringles can?¡± ¡±Yes! But I painted it black and packed it full of magic.¡± Momo admitted eagerly. ¡°This one won¡¯t even make your eyes bleed unless you¡¯re in a dungeon! Check it.¡± She twisted part of it, the thick wire and orb apparatus that she had built inside of it shifting into a preset position and activating the totem. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that it became a totem, where before it was a collection of random objects, and now it was a tool. Either way, James got close enough to be wrapped in its field, as it instantly dumped the employer and body temperature of everyone in the building into his head. Five people, him and Momo were easy to spot, and one other person James knew from earlier research was a night janitor. That one vanished after a couple minutes of keeping an eye on it, as the man took lunch. The other two were¡­ well, he hesitated to call them ¡®cultists¡¯, even though that was simple. But they were also one floor down and waiting for their allies in a way that blocked James and Momo from easily walking into the conference room to plant a listening device. ¡±Handy.¡± He muttered. ¡°And a good thing bugs don¡¯t have jobs.¡± ¡±It¡¯s humans only.¡± Momo sighed. ¡°I added the body temperature thing cause it can see corpses, and I don¡¯t really get what it thinks a human is, but since I¡¯m immune to getting Diogenes¡¯d, I think it¡¯s safe.¡± James nodded like he was okay with that sentence. ¡°Okay. Well, we¡¯re clear for now, and we¡¯ve got probably less than twenty minutes, so let¡¯s get a hole drilled and put a mic in place.¡± He took a second as he and Momo got to work to message the others, lurking in a pair of cars within a few blocks of the building. Basic rogue training meant James was smart enough to not bring his phone along, but the skulljack braid he had for fieldwork had enough power in its radio that he could check in with Arrush. And also everyone else, but mostly Arrush. ¡°Doing okay out there buddy?¡± James sent subvocally. The response took a little longer than it would have otherwise, as a meticulously human-made program translated the radio signal into something his brain could understand as speech. ¡°I¡¯m r-ready. For when this goes badly.¡± Arrush sounded so confident about that, it was worrying. He had the emotional advantage of not using a skulljack, though. ¡±Not everything goes badly!¡± James protested, and he must have also said it out loud, because Momo snickered at him as the two of them moved a filing cabinet so the hole they were about to make would be covered. The process of bugging the meeting was pretty simple. When you didn¡¯t really care about making sure that it would be a permanent solution, amateur construction could be as sloppy as you wanted. James didn¡¯t just slice through a bunch of electrical wiring to get it done, but he did do a quick and dirty job that would have left a bunch of debris on the floor below if not for Momo holding a tiny tube with an overwhelming amount of suction next to where he was working. James assumed it was either magic, or something she stole from a dentist¡¯s office, and it wasn¡¯t important to ask which right now. After that, it was just hooking the compact electronic into place, covering the hole, and getting out of there. ¡±You¡¯ve got company.¡± Alice told them calmly over the radio. ¡±Shouldn¡¯t have thought that.¡± James admitted out loud, shaking his head sorrowfully. He got a quirked half smile from Momo, and was pretty certain she knew exactly what he was talking about. ¡°Do we have time to get out?¡± ¡±Not unless you want to use an invisibility charge.¡± Ink-And-Key¡¯s tone over the radio was different than his normal anxious self-correction. It was more analytic; not cold, but very precise. ¡°You could do it. There are three going in now, and another pair following them up, but no one after that unless more cars are about to arrive. If you wait for the second group, you could slip out. They don¡¯t have robes. What kind of conspiracy doesn¡¯t have robes? I¡¯m offended.¡± James filed away for later a note to ask Ink-And-Key what his cultural touchstone was for shadowy conspiracies. James and Momo¡¯s eyes both flicked to the side as they made the same subconscious movement to ¡®read¡¯ the information their leveler earrings gave them when they asked. James had two charges left, and Momo signaled that she had three with what she probably thought was a stylish hand gesture. ¡°We¡¯ll wait.¡± He sent out. ¡°And wish these things charged faster.¡± Two days per use was harsh, and it meant that it couldn¡¯t be relied on. Especially since none of the few hundred copies of the small magical item that the Order had made had leveled up to the point that they could do the invisibility trick themselves. ¡°I don¡¯t like this.¡± Arrush said as James and Momo found a place to hide just in case anyone came looking, Momo mostly spending the time fiddling with her red orb totems. ¡°What if they¡­ do something? Find you?¡± ¡±Then I get to burst out of a third story plate glass window.¡± James subvocalized. ¡°And I¡¯m gonna tell everyone right now, that is a personal dream of mine, so don¡¯t mess it up if it comes to that.¡± ¡±You know I¡¯m the only one of us who can fly, right?¡± Momo asked, flexing her shoulders like she still had the wings that she could bring out. James just smiled, leaning back on the speckled paint of the wall they were sitting against. In his thoughts, Zhu was unfurled and excitedly waiting for if he was needed, and the navigator kept jokingly prompting James to the end of the hall and the nearest window with orange guidelines. He seemed to think they could manage to survive the fall, and that was almost enough for James to take on trust. Being in a building where a secret meeting was taking place was actually quite boring. James had talked to Myles when he was here about rogue operations for a bit, and one thing he felt would have made him a bad rogue was that he did get bored. Even here; now that they knew they weren¡¯t going to get discovered as the people below moved into the conference room, James just wanted them to get on with it. Instead, what he got as he listened in through both the bug and his own enhanced hearing, was¡­ small talk. People talking about taking their kids to football practice, about their vet bills for their dog, about finding hobbies to share with their wives. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that they¡¯d kidnapped one of his knights, he¡¯d be amused by how their secret meeting opened with ten minutes of talk about if they should get snacks for the next one. What made James sit up was when the last person arrived; the younger one of the bishops that Rho had encountered earlier in the day. That man was all business, and also clearly annoyed that his older friend hadn¡¯t shown up. He shut down the small talk, and the assembled group quickly got into the process of updating each other. And quickly, James realized he had gotten excited preemptively. The meeting was¡­ not like what he¡¯d gotten used to with the Order. They hadn¡¯t shown up ready to go, they¡¯d shown up to talk about their agenda for the meeting. It was actually offensive to him. But he and Momo listened to the group of men below as they eventually got around to things James would like to know. ¡±Where are we with the latest group?¡± One of them said, in the tone of a man who clearly expected his subordinates to have done something already. Another man answered after a pause of shuffling papers. ¡°Eighty percent moved. There were some delays regarding luggage.¡± A ripple of understanding laughter from the collective. ¡°It¡¯s about time to start recruiting for the next wave. We¡¯re mostly bottlenecked by when the rifts are open, but it¡¯s not a big problem with our current rate. Slow and steady will do it.¡± ¡±And the machines?¡± The commanding voice prompted. Papers shuffled, chairs squeaked. ¡°Nothing seems wrong. It will be slower to get one for everyone than to get them in, but strength in numbers is keeping things manageable for now.¡± ¡±How do we feel about drawing from our special young friends this time?¡± Someone suggested, and James and Momo shared a look as they found something to work from. Someone scoffed. ¡°Now? Too risky. The others would notice.¡± ¡±The apostle¡¯s office in charge of the project is already losing track of their chosen ones.¡± The original suggester replied eagerly. ¡°Their long term atonement means that no one even inside the group knows where they are. If we recruited from those families, it¡¯s¡­ well, it¡¯s confusing enough that we might get away with it for a while. Another wave at least.¡± ¡±Let¡¯s save that for when we¡¯re farther along.¡± Bishop Anderson from earlier in the day said, shutting down that line of thinking. ¡°Normal sourcing for now. We don¡¯t want anyone getting too suspicious before it¡¯s time.¡± James cocked an eyebrow, and asked his maybe too-obvious question to the others through silent skulljack. ¡°Hey, guys? Did we find a double secret conspiracy?¡± He let out a rattling sigh. ¡°Dance was right, we¡¯re gonna hear about this forever.¡± The conspiracy didn¡¯t wait for the hidden conversation, the men carrying on talking. ¡°Alright. What are we going to do about the chosen ones, anyway?¡± ¡±What do you mean?¡± The man replying seemed confused. There was a sigh and some grumbling, rustling pages that cut off part of a sentence on the mic. ¡°-wrong with what they¡¯re doing.¡± Someone was saying. ¡°It¡¯s the attention. Nobody wants the Church to be in the news for anything criminal, after all.¡± ¡±Is it even against the law?¡± Someone asked, in a tone that James winced at; it was entirely too familiar to jokes he¡¯d made in meetings. Though at least he had the advantage of having been joking, this guy seemed entirely serious. ¡°There¡¯s no law about age restriction for miracles in this state.¡± Okay, that sounded like a joke. Now James was going to have to do some soul searching about how snarky he was in meetings. Another long sigh, and then the authoritative voice again. ¡°No, but murdering a federal agent is. As is the attempted framing of that agent by sacrificing two of our young men. Miracles or not, they¡¯re playing with fire.¡± ¡±We¡¯re playing with fire. Half of us are part of that initiative, after all.¡± There were polite chuckles at that. ¡±Half of us aren¡¯t. And the end of the world likely won¡¯t care about what ¡®side¡¯ we¡¯re on, when He sees fit to let it happen.¡± ¡±The point stands. It would be a big publicity hit if that came out while we¡¯re in the middle of trying to save God¡¯s favored. And that is something we can¡¯t afford when the potential loss is all our preparations for the apocalypse. Danton isn¡¯t wrong that miracles aren¡¯t a crime, but we should have a plan for bringing the younger generation onboard when it¡¯s time.¡± ¡±Oh, we¡¯re just using names now, Stetson?¡± The man speaking was clearly irate in a way that probably made the room really uncomfortable to be in. ¡°None of you better come running to me when it turns out our meetings have been wiretapped. The captain is already annoyed with our counterparts for something like that.¡± James nearly choked when he heard the wiretap comment. Next to him, Momo started slamming a fist onto her knee. ¡°I¡¯m dying squirtle.¡± She announced over the radio. ¡°Save me.¡± ¡±Are you actually in trouble?¡± Arrush asked sharply. ¡±No, sit tight. Momo¡¯s being dramatic about the irony.¡± James explained. ¡°Momo shut the fuck up, I¡¯m listening here!¡± Arrush¡¯s response came a minute later. ¡°Okay. I googled irony. I understand.¡± The little comment made James smile so wide it hurt his cheeks, and he turned to shoot Momo an obvious bragging look about how great his boyfriend was. She just rolled her eyes back at him. ¡±Please stay focused.¡± Alice said in the subdued tone she¡¯d been using since Charlie went missing. James agreed, joking could come later. They did need to know where they¡¯d taken the knight. The meeting downstairs continued, but there was a lot less to decypher. They were talking fully about recruiting now, lists of names and sometimes neighborhoods, clearly pulled off the printouts they had judging by how many times words got muffled by a collective shifting of paperwork. Making an index of all of it would be useful for continuing investigations, but right now, James had never heard of any of these people. What he needed wasn¡¯t lists of names for people they should be¡­ protecting? Watching? It would help if James knew what the hell recruitment entailed. But it still wasn¡¯t what they were here for. They needed to know where Charlie was, and right before the meeting broke for the night, he got something that might be an answer. ¡±Is there anything special we should do with the guy today who knew way too much?¡± The jokester spoke amid the closing of notebooks and the pushing back of chairs. ¡°Russel got him put in one of the atonement sites that¡¯s supposed to be full, so we can¡¯t just keep him there forever.¡± ¡±Shoot him?¡± Someone suggested. That got a negative reaction. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± An older voice bit in. ¡°Solving all your problems with a gun is going to get you shot someday, Mark.¡± Someone cut in quickly, trying to pave over an awkward argument. ¡±We have the miracle curse that¡­ damages¡­ memory. We could try that, and just let him go? I don¡¯t think he¡¯s with the feds, but I talked to Carl Young earlier, and he told me their conversation was specific. If the guy has friends, they¡¯ll come looking. If he¡¯s free and doesn¡¯t remember, then that¡¯s better for us than just keeping him, right? And besides, it doesn¡¯t have to be a fix forever, right? Just a few years, at most?¡± ¡±That¡¯s¡­ a very good idea.¡± Anderson conceded slowly, and James could just imagine the bishop tapping a finger to his chin. ¡°Who¡¯s been studying that, anyone?¡± A groan. ¡°They¡¯ve got me on capture and scare tactics. That¡¯s all I have time for these days.¡± One man said. ¡°Mark might?¡± ¡±Yeah, I do.¡± Whoever Mark was didn¡¯t sound like he enjoyed it. ¡°Alright. Can I get a ride with you? We can do it now and then I can get to bed at a reasonable hour.¡± The others laughed, and the small talk resumed as they started to leave the room. It was all so pleasant and kinda mundane, that James had to actively remind himself that they were kidnapping and brainwashing people, many of them children. Though once he had a specific thought, it became easier to remember: that they were doing these monstrous things, and then talking about sports and politics and board games, as if they weren¡¯t in the middle of annihilating the rights and free will of others. ¡±Alice?¡± James sent out. ¡±Yeah, we¡¯re watching. Some of them came in by bus or lyft or whatever, so I¡¯m looking for anyone driving who has a new passenger.¡± Alice spoke rapidly into the radio. ¡°First few are coming out now.¡± James nodded as he started to rise, and then he froze as a piece of information altered itself in his mind. Momo¡¯s fancy totem, great for telling them when they were in the clear, had just dipped down by a single person. And something about that felt off to James. ¡±Anyone watching, how many people just walked out?¡± He sent on their radio channel, pursing his lips as Momo turned to him with eyes widening. ¡±Three. No, four.¡± Ink-And-Key informed them promptly. ¡°Why?¡± ¡±There¡¯s the ¡®fourth¡¯.¡± James muttered out loud as another person left the building, the totem telling him the exact moment they were no longer there. ¡°We have a¡­problem? Complication. Thing. Yeah, we¡¯ve got a thing.¡± The totem gave them two pieces of information; affiliation, and body temperature. For every human in the building. And four people had just walked out, which had reduced the count by two. James felt like he was going to have to have a conversation with Lincon when they got back to the safehouse about exactly what the capabilities of the shapeshifter demons were. But right now, there was no time for that. He passed on his worry to the others, just in case, but Alice had spotted who she thought she was after, and was pulling away with most of their group¡¯s nonhuman backup in the back seat. There were two other pairs driving away, but one of them had arrived together, and one¡­ well, they couldn¡¯t cover everything. Except they could this time. James and Momo slipped out the back door of the building, the alarm already disabled just in case, and threw themselves and Momo¡¯s heavy case into the car as Arrush pulled up next to them. Then the ratroach pulled a sharp turn and catapulted their vehicle onto the main road, ignoring a stop sign and taking advantage of the lack of cars at this late hour. ¡±I can really tell you learned how to drive from a bunch of Route Horizon delvers!¡± James squeaked out as his seatbelt crushed his chest down, the safety device barely on before Arrush had started pulling maneuvers that earned that title. ¡±Thank you!¡± The ratroach looked really happy about the comment, one of his small claws sheepishly itching at some of the chitin on his neck as he took a turn and calmly inserted them into traffic, following at a safe distance from their prey. In the back seat, Momo made a strangled noise herself, hauling her form up from where she¡¯d failed to get bucked up in time. James laughed and reached over to pat Arrush¡¯s leg. ¡°Zhu, you awake enough to tell us which of our groups is after the right target?¡± ¡±¡­nnnnno.¡± Zhu said, disappointed in himself. ¡°They¡¯re doing something that¡¯s fucking with me, and I don¡¯t like it. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s on purpose though.¡± ¡±Alright. Arrush, keep on them.¡± James switched his skulljack braid out of safe mode, and opened up a call to the others who were getting farther away. Quickly informing Alice that they were on the other duo, he settled into the rental car¡¯s fake leather seat to take a breath, and mentally prepare himself for the chance that he might have to fight someone shortly. ¡°I bet literally everyone else had a better day than we did. I should call Alanna and Anesh later.¡± he muttered quietly to himself, trying to distract from the throbbing pain in his stitches. Arrush gave a concentrated little nod, focused on the road, and for the first time James noticed that the way he held the steering wheel was with claws so tight it threatened to slice the leather covering to ribbons. That might just have been the stress of the moment though. ¡±Oh god, my leg hurts. That was dumb.¡± Momo moaned from the back seat. ¡°Will there be more running? I don¡¯t wanna.¡± ¡±Only if¡­¡± James paused as Zhu swiped across his thoughts, a kind of navigator form of a smirking eye roll. ¡°¡­anything, I guess. Yeah, there¡¯s gonna be more running.¡± Momo made a small whimper, and James threw a concerned look over the center console as Arrush kept the car on a steady course. ¡°Did you not get that checked out?¡± He asked softly. ¡°Or, have some painkillers or something?¡± ¡±No time for that.¡± Momo was clearly trying to sound impressive. ¡°I¡¯ve got¡­ witch things to do.¡± ¡±Which things?¡± Arrush asked. ¡±No, witch things.¡± ¡±Yes, I am asking which ones.¡± James pressed a hand into his face. ¡°This is the problem with following people.¡± He said, tilting his palm up like he was presenting to no one. ¡°We have too much time to banter.¡± Momo sat upright with a grunt of exertion and pain, her months-old Climb injury still giving her problems. ¡°What, you wanna have everything be one single dramatic showdown to settle it all?¡± ¡±Kinda? Kinda!¡± James would have to sharpen his thoughts about that later. Zhu started to peel feathers out of his neck and arm, enough of him forming to join the conversation as he illuminated the car¡¯s interior along with the passing streetlights. ¡°I like the banter. And it¡¯s good that it¡¯s taking a while. I¡¯ve been making sure they aren¡¯t trying to loop us, but I think they are going somewhere weird and don¡¯t know we¡¯re here.¡± James nodded. ¡°Already sending that off to Alice, but we¡¯ll keep on both sets until-¡° ¡±What¡¯s that?!¡± Zhu cut him off, voice revving like an overtaxed engine. ¡°J-James?¡± Arrush sounded concerned, and at the sound of his name which he almost never heard from the big ratroach, James snapped his head back to look where Arrush was pointing out the windshield. Zhu had spoken first, but he¡¯d felt whatever it was before it was even visible. The car ahead of them that they¡¯d been following was just starting to pull into the parking lot of a strip mall that appeared to contain three different furniture warehouse outlets. And it was also the epicenter for a smoothly expanding flickering dome of grey flames. They were translucent enough that everyone could still see the other car rolling along like nothing was wrong. And maybe for them, nothing was wrong. ¡°Shit, it¡¯s closing in.¡± James realized. ¡°Get us out of here!¡± Mentally, he broadcast an alert with their location to the others, and started to instantly get worried responses. ¡°Momo, telepad!¡± ¡±Right!¡± Momo whipped one of the books out of her tattered black coat as Arrush dropped all subtlety and poured on the gas to try to slip by the growing field before it cut them off, so he wouldn¡¯t have to lose momentum turning them around. ¡°Where do-¡° Without warning, the dome suddenly accelerated in its growth, and instead of barely sneaking by to safety, the wall of flames washed over the car. The last thing James thought as it hit was that at least it wasn¡¯t actually setting him on fire. _____ It was a bright summer afternoon outside, which meant that Karen had a highrise office that would have rapidly been approaching intolerable temperatures if not for the building¡¯s air conditioning. In the abstract, she was aware that air conditioning was something of a long term problem; combating the ongoing heat wave was in part contributing to making the next one. But right now, since it didn¡¯t matter which of the three overheating states the Order had buildings in she did her work in, Karen had set it cool enough to not suffer and refused to feel bad about it. She was sure that some of the younger parts of the Order¡¯s membership would want to find cleaner, more effective, less destructive long term solutions. That was fantastic. She was here to support them; she was invested in their collective success now to some degree. But she wasn¡¯t going to stop using the air conditioning until that happened. For her, it was a normal day. A pleasant day. Karen knew for a fact that there were members of the Order out putting themselves in danger, either to delve or to look into potentially threatening humans or actively hunting for the pillars. She was appraised of the various potential problems with having an alchemy test site in the Lair¡¯s basement, of what could go wrong with orange orb constructions, of the long term medical tests for various magical enhancements that still showed no problems but could change at any time. She knew that the world was going to end, sooner rather than later. But her day was nice. She had woken up early, gotten a light workout in to keep her aging form in good shape, managed to finish several projects and actually get ahead of things for once, and had lunch with her daughter. Karen felt like she spent a lot of her life perhaps not appreciating the things she should have. She couldn¡¯t take those years back, but she could do better now. And seeing Elizabeth happy was enough to make her feel like her change in outlook was worth it. It was almost enough for Karen to not offer any pushback on Elizabeth¡¯s college plans. Her daughter was planning to take a year at a community college; to build up credit, she said. That was, in Karen¡¯s estimation, a bit of a lie. Not an entire lie; it would be happening. But Elizabeth had been accepted to the California College of the Arts in their design program, as well as to half the other universities and art schools that she¡¯d applied for. And Karen, as a discerning mother, had a suspicion that was really more of an openly known fact, that her daughter didn¡¯t want to leave her paramours behind. One of the interesting things about Elizabeth growing older, and the break in their lives that they¡¯d had, was that Karen found she had to make a change to approaching someone who had previously been a child to her, as an adult. She¡¯d gotten advice from a number of people around the Order on the subject, and she thought she did a fairly good job most of the time. For example, in today¡¯s lunch, she never once told Elizabeth that she should break up with the people she was dating just to go to a better college. She did, perhaps, subtly remind her daughter that she did have access to an elevator that went from the building she lived in, directly to California. So perhaps it wouldn¡¯t be leaving anyone behind exactly to take the rather decent scholarship offer and go to school here. Since, after all, it wasn¡¯t exactly a burden to walk home at the end of the night. The weirdest thing in Karen¡¯s life, more than the magic or the nonhuman coworkers or the office teleporter, was that when her daughter said she¡¯d think about it, Karen believed her. Maybe all it took after all was to simply explain things in a respectful way, without trying to make it an order. If only she¡¯d known that for raising her eldest son. And now, lunch complete, Karen was back to work, doing budgetary checkups for the Order. They weren¡¯t exactly scheduled, but she rotated through talking in person with someone from every group or project that she could. Often times, things got missed on paperwork, and giving people a chance to explain things was important. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. She reminded herself that it was important as Amelia, or alchemist Red as she preferred to be called, sat down across from her. Grey hair pulled up in a tight bun, she was one of the few people in the Order who had years on Karen, and was a perfect reminder sometimes of what it felt like to be condescended to by someone older. Though the woman had been getting better, in all fairness. Karen just hoped that would actually play out today. ¡±Good afternoon.¡± She greeted her guest politely and giving Smoke a much more real smile as the skittish girl waited by the door to see if they needed anything. ¡°Just yourself today?¡± ¡±Davis is indisposed.¡± Red said with a curt dismissal. Karen frowned slightly. ¡°Is he sick? Nothing too serious I hope.¡± ¡±He bought into one of the brat¡¯s ideas about putting an infomorph into the rats, and during their first test run, it got him instead. So he¡¯s¡­¡± she twisted a hand next to her head, fingers curling. ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know. Whatever you call that.¡± If Karen were someone else in the Order, she might have let herself be baited into an academic conversation about what word applied to a person recovering from accidental assignment inception. But she wasn¡¯t, and didn¡¯t. ¡°Please pass along my concern. I hope things go well for him.¡± She said instead. ¡°Now. The monthly budget allocation for¡­¡± Karen looked down at the folder she had before looking back up with an unamused glance. ¡°We cannot keep naming departments words that start with R.¡± She said. ¡±It wasn¡¯t my idea, if it helps.¡± Red said. ¡°Personally I voted for ¡®Elixirs''. Let¡¯s skip to the bad news. What¡¯s getting cut?¡± Karen smiled in what she believed was a comforting way. ¡°Ah. Davis didn¡¯t explain how these meetings go.¡± She gave a low chuckle in the back of her throat. ¡°How are things going? Any new projects?¡± ¡±I always have new projects.¡± Red narrowed her eyes in suspicion. ¡°The microbrew style takes a long time to test, but it¡¯s gotten one promising result so far.¡± She said it like she was defending her very right to exist. ¡°The brats keep messing with their happy rats, which doesn¡¯t cost much. Oh, we need more hands for harvesting the sap. Your¡­ our queer little cactuses are growing at a rate that needs better attention. Aside from that, it¡¯s business as normal, producing what we¡¯re told.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Karen looked down at the clean breakdown of expenses she had for the elixir department. ¡°Microbrew?¡± She prompted. ¡±Don¡¯t worry, I borrowed the equipment from our ¡®chef¡¯. It won¡¯t cost anything.¡± Red folded her arms. Karen sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before shaking her head and deciding to cut to the heart of the matter. ¡°Yes, that is rather the problem.¡± She told Red. ¡°You have project pitches on file with Research, which were approved both provisionally and by general vote. You get a budget, Ms. Red. More than enough to afford a small brewing setup. I have a breakdown of the numbers here¡­¡± she pulled out a page and placed it on the desk for Red to stare at suspiciously. ¡°This is based on research into mid quality homebrew equipment. If you believe you will need more, please email.¡± ¡±¡­I don¡¯t understand.¡± Red said. ¡±I¡¯m giving you money to pursue your ¡®personal¡¯ projects.¡± Karen told her bluntly. ¡°Because you are a member of the Order of Endless Rooms. And also because your personal projects have previously included a cure for lung cancer. This isn¡¯t a trap. Now, please look over this chart and tell me if there¡¯s anything missing from what we¡¯ve allocated for this month.¡± Red studied the numbers with narrowed eyes before looking up. ¡±It seems¡­ adequate. More than, I suppose. A lot of what we need is people who can follow instructions for production, and more of the¡­ magical pots.¡± ¡±Most people say dungeontech if magic leaves a sour taste in the mouth.¡± Karen advised her. ¡±That sounds pretentious.¡± Red bit out the words in a haughty voice. The irony seemed lost on her, so Karen didn¡¯t offer a smile back. ¡°Well. The potions that we make use of are important enough that we have¡­ hmm¡­ four percent of our total ritual use allocated for making more of the succulent pots. That isn¡¯t my decision though. This meeting is just about the money budget. If you want more pots faster, you¡¯ll need to propose it for our monthly general vote.¡± Karen shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s already high for a single item, though I agree with you that it¡¯s one of our more useful tools. But I would wager on our team coming back from your home state with more new logistical problems for us to spend the ritual on.¡± ¡±Ugh. Utah.¡± Red scowled. ¡°If there¡¯s one good thing about everything that¡¯s happened, it¡¯s that I don¡¯t have to live there anymore.¡± ¡±You were a millionaire, you didn¡¯t have to live anywhere.¡± Karen pointed out, catching herself before she called the seemingly pouting older woman ¡®dear¡¯. She assumed Red would react poorly. ¡±I did if I wanted to be an Alchemist. So I put up with the arid wasteland and the endless string of missionaries at my door. If you haven¡¯t noticed, I¡¯ll put up with a lot for this.¡± Karen nodded. ¡°Yes. Well. It seems you know what matters to you.¡± She sighed, glancing out the window. ¡°It¡¯s enviable, in a way. Nothing quite feels that way for me these days.¡± ¡±You could always come work mixing potions. You seem¡­ competent.¡± Coming from Red, the word was probably the highest form of compliment. And for a second, Karen considered it. ¡°Perhaps on my spare day.¡± She offered, actually meaning it. ¡°In the meantime, if there are no surprise expenses or new purchases unaccounted for¡­?¡± ¡±Oh, we need more rat things.¡± ¡±More¡­ lab rats?¡± ¡±No, more food than expected, and toys. New enclosure. That sort of thing. It wasn¡¯t too much, but if we¡¯re listing everything¡­¡± Karen considered asking why, but decided to look it up later, instead simply entering a note and beginning the process of hunting down the receipts and charges on the accounts that she needed to have available. ¡°That should be everything. Though. While I have you here, you did live in Utah for some time. I¡¯m curious, did you ever have an encounter with the Long Arm Of The Law?¡± ¡±No, Tigris typically took care of- oh you mean the pillar thing, not the actual cops. Right.¡± Red barked a short laugh. ¡°I never did. We knew from the orrery that there were other groups around us that we couldn¡¯t account for that were probably¡­ oh fuck it all, ¡®magical¡¯. But we never met. I think it¡¯s part of why Tigris chose Utah in the first place. Something about being there just kept awareness at a low; not that no one could notice anything, but that things that stood out got¡­ sanded down. You were just as likely to spot a fender bender as you were a giant fireball.¡± ¡±Speaking from experience?¡± ¡±It happened more than once.¡± Red admitted. ¡°No one noticed. Suited us fine; we could do direct business once people knew about us, but we didn¡¯t have to worry about uninvited guests.¡± She paused with a small sneer. ¡°Except the missionaries, obviously. But I think that¡¯s because they walked up to any front door they could find. Nothing special going on there. Same as the twits selling cable or offering to paint the building every summer.¡± Karen thought that perhaps she was being more than a little uncharitable, and certainly unpleasant. Though she didn¡¯t get many visitors to her front door anymore, as she lived underground and without street access, and maybe if she had to answer the door more often she would feel more like Red clearly did. ¡°Well. Thank you for your time. You¡¯ll be CC¡¯d on the email with your new allocated budget. Thank you for taking the time to look over things with me.¡± ¡±Right.¡± Red stood, still looking like she was waiting for the trap to close. ¡°This was¡­ painless?¡± Karen nodded. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s rather the point. Bureaucracy is supposed to solve problems, not create them.¡± She smiled at Red¡¯s obvious disbelief. ¡°Smoke will see you out.¡± She motioned, and Red turned slightly to see the ratroach girl standing right next to her. ¡°Oh, and congratulations on being the project with the lowest ratio of accidentally vaporized expensive lab equipment.¡± She added. ¡±Why do you know that?!¡± Red¡¯s voice demanded as she stalked out and down the hallway, not expecting or waiting for an answer. The reason, of course, was that Karen knew everything that happened in the Order. Magic, technology, and their strange offspring gave her an unprecedented ability to be good at her job. And if there was one calling Karen actually did have, it was to be doing things correctly the first time around. Before she moved on, however, she wrote down a note about what Red had told her regarding ¡®low awareness¡¯ in the state of Utah, and sent it off to the people running the operations in the area. JP or Nate might be interested in it, certainly, if they were going to continue to have people down there. The near instant reply she got thanking her was actually more worrying than if no one had said anything. _____ Afternoon in Townton was a strange mix of hectic and peaceful. Everyone had something they were doing, even if it was just recovering. A lot of the population were ratroaches going through the painful process of learning how to be people and not monsters. Many of the humans that lived in the area were also people who were in one way or another ¡®rescues¡¯, with at least a couple dozen simply being normal human people Response had pulled out of abusive or otherwise bad situations and¡­ kind of just transplanted here. A few other forms of life from the Office or Sewer lived here too, for largely the same reasons. The rest of the population was split into people who worked with Recovery in ways both big and small, helping the first chunk of the population with the recovering, and everyone else, who worked at restoring the city, salvaging what there was to salvage, delving the Horizon, studying the chanters or the necroads, or just living their normal lives here in the magically growing four by four block safe zone of what was once a mid sized American city. One of the people who didn¡¯t live here was Camille the Azure, who was¡­ not grounded anymore, exactly. Especially since she could fly now if she wanted, assuming she wasn¡¯t wearing armor. Her wings were some of the more powerful examples of the Altitude Adept spell that anyone had seen, and because she¡¯d moved in down here temporarily, so had a few Researchers that focused on Winter¡¯s Climb magic so they could study her specifically. She was currently not being studied. Currently, she was in a condo above what used to be an optometrist¡¯s office, studying the video of people¡¯s .mem files of fights with her sisters. Nate was another person who didn¡¯t live here, but he also wasn¡¯t limited to Townton for the time being, and when he walked in it was because he¡¯d teleported down from Oregon. He was here a lot, though, and Camille had gotten used to him complaining about it. ¡±What the hell are you doing.¡± He asked her flatly as he walked in, dropping a fast food bag on the desk for her. The room was sparsely furnished; the bedroom they¡¯d stuck their prisoner in had more total furniture than this front room. But it was, for now, Cam¡¯s home. She didn¡¯t look up from the old record of Anesh pouring rifle shots into a Violet to limited effect. ¡°I need to be ready.¡± She said. ¡°For the next one.¡± ¡°Cam¡­¡± Nate started out annoyed, but stopped himself, and took a deep breath. Camille noticed when he did this; modulating his emotions, trying to be¡­ what? Kind? Not exactly. He was still Nate, but he was trying to be helpful to her. ¡°Can¡¯t be healthy.¡± He commented. ¡±Neither is this.¡± She opened the bag that contained her paper wrapped chicken sandwich. ¡°Neither is your stress over the situation. You should-¡° ¡±Oh you don¡¯t get to tell me what I should do about stress.¡± Nate pulled one of his beers out of the fridge and pried the top off with one of his keys. ¡°Besides. I¡¯m not stressed. I¡¯m pissed. That¡¯s different.¡± ¡±No it isn¡¯t.¡± He narrowed his eyes at her before taking a drink of the cold beer and swiping sweat off his bald head. There was no AC in this place yet, and the magic fix for it was gated by how many people took the Climb spell for now. Nate started pacing as Cam replayed part of the fight footage. ¡°Wasting time here.¡± He grumbled. ¡°You hear about Utah?¡± ¡±I¡¯m up to date with everything the rogues are doing, yes.¡± Camille said without looking up. ¡±Yeah. Well. I need to get down there, but this happened. You couldn¡¯t have¡­¡± He broke off, shaking his head. He was going to ask why she couldn¡¯t have just waited, but Nate knew that was a fucking unfair question. ¡°Any change on our guest?¡± ¡±No.¡± Camille looked up at that. ¡°I can watch her, you know. You don¡¯t have to be here.¡± ¡±What, leave you alone with the person who nearly pasted you across the street? Pass.¡± He grunted in exasperation, walking over to crack the blinds and look down at the street where people were moving aside to let a kei truck move a fridge past. ¡°We need more people.¡± ¡±You could leave the sword with me.¡± Nate let the blinds flick shut, turning back around. ¡°Cam, you fucking know what? I don¡¯t trust you not to hurt yourself with it.¡± He said angrily. ¡°You can fool a lot of people with that stoic bullshit attitude you put on, but it won¡¯t work on me. I¡¯m¡­¡± He was here to keep an eye on her, as much as the captive Crimson. And Cam knew it. And she couldn¡¯t even be mad. Had she tried to suicide on her sister? She didn¡¯t even know. It was all a bit of a blur; too many emotions too fast, too much for her to really remember. She didn¡¯t think so. She thought she was¡­ better now. But maybe not. So she didn¡¯t countermand Nate when he said no. ¡±It¡¯s¡­ fine.¡± She said eventually, eyes focused on the footage on her screen, but not actually paying attention anymore. ¡°Azures aren¡¯t strong enough, I suppose. Like she¡­ said¡­¡± Camille looked up abruptly, a needle of a thought dropping into place as she spoke. ¡°Nate.¡± ¡±Hm? You alright?¡± The instant shift to concern was almost itself concerning. ¡±Azures. She said Azures.¡± Cam turned to look at the open door to the room her sister was in. ¡°She¡­ knows. She knew. The whole time, she knew.¡± Nate looked down at his barely touched beer, then sighed and set the bottle on the counter. ¡°Walk me through it.¡± He ordered. ¡±We¡¯re divided into units. ¡®Families¡¯, technically. But we aren¡¯t supposed to know that. Because of our specific senses, and our role as intelligence operatives with access to more records, Azures almost always learn about this. And eventually have a crisis of faith, and try to leave.¡± Camille looked at the backs of her hands. ¡°Like me. But Crimsons? They stay in the dark until they die. But she said¡­ Azures.¡± The barrel chested human nodded, leaning back against the counter and crossing tattooed arms in front of himself. ¡°So she knew. Maybe not the pattern or the history, but she knew you weren¡¯t the first. So what?¡± ¡±So¡­!¡± Camille followed through on the thought. ¡°Oh. So she likely¡­ killed some of my sisters before.¡± ¡±Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn¡¯t really matter.¡± Nate offered like it was easy. ¡°You gave her a choice, after all. And she spat on it. So fuck whatever she knew or didn¡¯t know, end of the day, she made her bed.¡± ¡°I made her bed.¡± Cam mentioned, taking the statement literally. From the other room, there was the sound of a blanket shifting. Nate turned to look at it, while Cam stood rapidly, her wings nearly taking out the potted plant that was the one concession to this place being a home that she¡¯d allowed. ¡±Cam.¡± Nate said in his steady gruff voice. ¡°Take a walk.¡± ¡±You mean go patrolling?¡± ¡±I mean take a walk.¡± Nate replied. ¡°Go outside. Get some fresh air and a sunburn. Say hi to the zoo full of people we¡¯re collecting down here. Get lunch, since one shitty chicken sandwich barely lasted this conversation.¡± He walked past her, hesitating before clapping a hand on her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on her.¡± He offered. Camille didn¡¯t actually know what to think about the command. But¡­ it was Nate. And it did have the texture of a command. So she nodded. ¡°I could check the perimeter.¡± She said. ¡±Sure. Whatever kid.¡± Nate shook his head, rolling his eyes as she walked to the door and glanced back at him before leaving. He took one more sip of his beer before she left, for show, before actually leaving the bottle. Cam looked better. She was wearing shorts, and had done something different with her hair. Not something good, exactly, but it was something at all. To Nate, this was the equivalent of a full makeover, but more important was that she was talking. She wasn¡¯t just following orders, she was thinking a bit more, acting a bit more. She didn¡¯t actually have to be here in Townton, but she felt like it was important to be nearby for if the Crimson woke up, and she probably wasn¡¯t wrong. But in that time, every time Nate made her leave the condo, she seemed to unfold a little more. A conversation here, a little encounter there. Nate didn¡¯t know a whole lot about being different. Fuck, half the reason for his old job with the FBI was that he was pretty far into the majority. But Townton¡­ well, it seemed nice. Fucked up, broken beyond repair, but being repaired anyway. That might be a metaphor for a lot of the residents; he didn¡¯t know, he didn¡¯t do metaphors. It was a good place for Cam though. And Nate was trying to figure out a way to justify sticking her here permanently after this current thing was sorted out. For now, though, he had someone he wanted to talk to. Camille the Crimson had one of the bedrooms to herself. She had a nice bed with one of those memory foam mattresses, thin blankets and sheets so as not to overheat, and two different forms of medical monitor that were there to make sure she didn¡¯t flatline out of nowhere. Currently, she had done something to both of them to trick them into giving normal readings, so Nate would have to look into that later. ¡±You¡¯re awake.¡± He said bluntly. The girl in the bed, in her underwear except for the tight bandage wrap around where he¡¯d stabbed her through the chest under a week ago, didn¡¯t respond. ¡±Okay, let¡¯s try again.¡± Nate said. ¡°You¡¯re awake, I know it, and I¡¯m not especially interested in your game.¡± He breathed hot air through his nose, wishing he¡¯d kept his beer for this. ¡°If you want to participate in this conversation, now¡¯s the time.¡± She didn¡¯t say anything. Nate had seen a lot of people pretend to be asleep, and this Crimson was doing a shit terrible job at it. The thing was, sleeping people reacted when people spoke near them. She¡¯d been in and out of consciousness for a little while, but now she was showing the signs of someone who was awake, and hiding it. Not someone who was recovering from blood loss, organ damage, and being hit in the head repeatedly. ¡±Alright. Fine. You get a monologue then. James would be proud of me, which is how I know this is a bad idea.¡± Nate scowled at himself, voice heating up to match the midday sun. ¡°I should be getting in a gunfight with a priest or some bullshit like that right now, but I¡¯m here with you. Bunch of our people went missing last night, and I¡¯m here to watch you instead of being where I can help. Do you know how that feels?¡± She might. He asked to give her an out. One last chance. But she didn¡¯t take it. So Nate just snorted again. ¡°Asshole. I know you¡¯re awake, and now you know you¡¯re wasting my time. I¡¯m not the kind of vindictive cunt that¡¯ll blame you if my people get hurt while I¡¯m not there, but I will be pissed if I waste too much time on this. So let¡¯s cover some ground rules, real quick.¡± Nate turned his head to check the front room, before looking back at the damaged girl on the bed. ¡°First rule, I¡¯m not calling you Cam, or Camille. Ever. She got there first, and she¡¯s more important than you, so pick a nickname if you want one. Second rule. If you hurt her? I will kill you.¡± He said the words without any emotion, just to drive them home. ¡°Then I will work my way up your chain of command until I get to the Line, and bury him too.¡± Nate paused, watching for any kind of reaction, and seeing that she had clearly heard him. ¡°But you be patient, heal up, don¡¯t fuck around, and we¡¯ll let you go as soon as you¡¯re doing better. You know, and I know, that we can¡¯t keep you as a captive. You¡¯re a threat to every civilian in this town, and no one is going to trust you for a long time. So let¡¯s make this painless for everyone, and never talk to each other again.¡± Nate pushed himself off the wall and stomped out into the living room, grabbing his beer on the way past. It tasted a lot more bitter than the first sip had, and he scowled at the bottle, at the condo, and at the street below as he walked to the window to watch. Down in the street, Cam was busy helping unload the fridge, while a pair of kid ratroaches that hadn¡¯t been in the Sewer long enough to be forced into full growth by their dungeon clung onto her wings and laughed as she hoisted them off the ground in a show of strength. Nate grinned for a split second, before finishing his drink, and sinking the bottle into the recycling bin in the kitchen in an underhand arc. The clatter echoed around the bare kitchen, glass clinking heavily on impact. ¡°Good talk.¡± He said to the Crimson he was pretty sure could hear him. He felt a little better. And he told himself that it was because if she healed that fast, she¡¯d be out of here in a couple days, and he could get back to real work. And that might even be part of the truth, too. ____ In the lobby of the Lair, Alanna was doing her best to wear a groove in the carpet in front of the main exchange desk. Much to the displeasure of Caller-Of-Midnight, the camraconda doing his best hissing scowl as she kept walking by. The front desk itself had morphed over time from being a convenient flat surface that people set water bottles and car keys on, to the place where the Order handled distribution of its various magics to its various members. And also package pickup for the people who lived in the Lair. Empowered by an attached closet and more drawers than should have been able to fit in the space thanks to a few weird green orbs, someone had made it their personal project to lean into it being a streamlined and pleasant experience to trade your stipend for orbs, Climb delve slots, sewer Lessons, and just general enchanted items. They had actual scheduled shifts, trusted people who handled a lot of magical throughput, and even some kind of specialized computer inventory system that Research had provided that basically set the ¡®prices¡¯ whenever there was a change in circumstances. This was more or less why there were both a series of screens showing what was available and at what rate, and also heavy brass stands with cloth dividers used to mark off lines if needed, the things looking like they belonged in a bank or a fancy nightclub. And Alanna was ignoring them entirely. If there had been a line, it would have been incredibly aggravating. ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill him.¡± Alanna declared as she passed by an Anesh who was patiently waiting away off to the side, near the corridor of space they kept clear so people could get into the briefing warehouse more easily. ¡±Well that seems excessive.¡± Anesh replied. Another iteration of him looked up from his phone and tilted a hand up in a questioning motion. ¡°Also counterproductive? Since, you know, the point is that we want him alive.¡± Alanna ignored both her boyfriend. ¡°And no one is panicking about this? No one seems to care that someone just vanished four people along with three city blocks?!¡± ¡±I¡¯m panicking, to be clear.¡± Anesh said as he and Keeka walked up to the group, Keeka letting go of Anesh¡¯s hand to move and give each other Anesh a shaking hug in turn. ¡°But also I¡¯m almost certain they¡¯re not dead.¡± ¡±Which is good, because if Arrush is dead, I am going to kill him.¡± Keeka said, the lithe ratroach practically hyperventilating as he held tight to the last Anesh in his sequence of hugs. Voice coming out as a high pitched whine as he tried to play into the humor of his newfound family. Alanna snapped her fingers, cocking a finger gun Keeka¡¯s way. ¡°That¡¯s what I said!¡± She declared. ¡±You¡¯ll have to rescue him first if you wanna kill him.¡± El said as she stalked around the corner from the elevator, hair chopped back to a pixie cut and a bandage on her neck just below her left ear. ¡°Which we can do! I¡¯ll help! And then I¡¯m gonna kill Momo.¡± ¡±You are all so violent to the people you supposedly love.¡± Each Anesh picked a different person to give an exasperated sigh to. ¡°Also Alanna, you are now actually in someone¡¯s way.¡± ¡±Shit, sorry.¡± Alanna moved herself closer to the center of the lobby to let a couple newer members that she didn¡¯t recognize yet get by. Caller-Of-Midnight cheering up immensely as he started talking to them and providing them with suggestions off the ¡®menu¡¯ of orbs that the Order had been building. ¡°I dunno if I¡¯m gonna get used to this.¡± She muttered. ¡±What, James being in trouble?¡± Anesh asked her with raised eyebrows. Alanna blinked, shaking her head rapidly. ¡°What? No, that¡¯s¡­ no, I got used to that, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯m just gonna be¡­ let¡¯s say about sixty percent as snarky as I normally am about it, and call it good. No, I mean the whole ¡®giving away orbs¡¯ thing.¡± ¡±We aren¡¯t giving them away, people work hard for this.¡± Anesh reminded her. ¡°Anyway, if we¡¯re all here, shall we call this meeting of the worried partners society to order?¡± Two of Keeka¡¯s hands shot into the air. ¡°I-I propose w-we go fight the Utah to get them back!¡± El choked on a wet laugh that she tried to hide behind her fist. ¡°Uh¡­ that¡¯s not really¡­¡± she caught sight of two Anesh softly shaking his heads at her, and decided to drop whatever acerbic comment she was going to make. ¡°Yeah, sure. I mean, I¡¯m not really on board, I just wanna help if it gets them back okay. Gonna prefer no fighting though. But hey, who doesn¡¯t have to rescue their girlfriend from some new hostile dungeon from time to time?¡± ¡°Everyone here except me.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Actually we could make our own club, El.¡± ¡±Is there a reason we¡¯re still here?¡± El asked impatiently. ¡°Not that I¡¯m in a hurry, you know, to bail out my girlfriend from whatever shit you guys got her into. But I¡¯d kinda like to do the teleport and rescue thing now.¡± ¡±We¡¯re waiting on JP.¡± Alanna said. In another time, she might have been annoyed with El¡¯s¡­ well, everything. But now, feeling the maelstrom of anxiety and love the woman felt for her missing partner, Alanna found it a lot easier to be forgiving. It was a little weird how some of El¡¯s emotions folded back on themselves, but Alanna was starting to realize that was what she got off people when they were trying - and usually failing - to hide or downplay feelings to themselves. ¡°He¡¯s coordinating a place for us to show up, since the last safehouse might be compromised or something. Also rolling out of the suburbs with a whole ass squad might be suspicious.¡± ¡±A what now?¡± El tilted her head back. ¡°We¡¯re not a squad. We¡¯re barely a crew.¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, no. Agreed.¡± Alanna nodded at her. ¡°That¡¯s why one of the shield teams is coming. And they are a squad. Technically we¡¯re following them, but they¡¯re still new to a lot of the weird stuff, so¡­ you know.¡± Keeka nodded sagely. ¡±I know.¡± He said. And when everyone looked at him like they expected him to complete that sentence, he flushed a neon green around his eyes, ducking his head. ¡°I¡­ they need people to tell them.¡± He said. ¡°Like we did. They would learn eventually, but we¡¯re in a hurry. Is that it?¡± ¡±That¡­ yeah, more or less.¡± Alanna shrugged. ¡°Anyway, no one will approve my plan to kick in every door and demand answers, so we¡¯re going with the less¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡±Violent.¡± Anesh supplied helpfully. Alanna crossed her arms and stared off at the column of terrariums at the front of the lobby. ¡±Yeah, the less violent option. God dammit, I¡¯m so fucking angry right now.¡± She muttered to herself. Keeka detached from Anesh and cautiously shuffled over to her, his split tail twitching back and forth along the floor from under his skirt as he approached and reached out to gently place a shaking paw on her arm. ¡°It will be okay.¡± He lied to himself. ¡±Yeah, I know.¡± Alanna said easily, trying to help as she huffed out a breath. ¡°I¡¯m never letting James do one of these alone again. No idea what the hell I was thinking.¡± El made a confused noise. ¡±You were thinking that saving people from burning buildings was a good use of your time, and Utah is a desert wasteland?¡± ¡±Utah actually seems pretty nice to visit, though it is far too hot this time of year.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°El¡¯s right though, you were helping people, and James was supposed to be doing investigation, not¡­ not¡­¡± ¡±Paladin things?¡± El supplied in a far too cheerful voice. ¡°Whatever. I¡¯m resigned to this. Isn¡¯t the world fucking ending or something? We¡¯re gonna have to get used to this. Everyone cash out on the purples that let you kick people through buildings, and get ready to never stop saving the dumbass you live with.¡± ¡±Well that¡¯s¡­ uh¡­¡± Anesh looked at one of himself, who just shrugged, while the other iteration of him continued with ¡°¡­there¡¯s a lot going on there. El, are you doing alright?¡± ¡±Psh.¡± ¡±Right, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s about what I expected, yeah.¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°I guess she¡¯s right though. I love James. I trust him. But he can¡¯t solve everything himself. Though I suppose that¡¯s why Momo and Arrush were with him, but that can also be why we¡¯re-¡° He stopped talking as JP walked out of the briefing warehouse, Planner¡¯s spectral tentacles trailing behind him like an ethereal secretary complete with clipboard. ¡°Well?¡± Anesh asked instantly as Alanna tensed like she was ready for a fight and Keeka¡­ actually did exactly the same motion. And Anesh had to admit that he found it very easy to forget sometimes that Keeka had fought in more battles than he probably ever would himself. JP looked over all of them with an expression that straddled the line between puzzled and cocky. ¡°I¡¯m sure your menagerie of lovers appreciates your support. Go home. They¡¯re fine. Same thing that hit our other rogues last week; some memory loss, and Arrush doesn¡¯t know how to fucking parallel park to save his life, but they¡¯re okay.¡± He stood there waiting for a moment, before adding, ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not kidding. Go home. Or back to saving your own chunks of the world. Whatever you dumbasses do when I¡¯m not around to drive the plot.¡± Alanna nodded. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ve changed my mind, James gets to live, I¡¯m gonna strangle JP.¡± ¡±I¡¯ll help.¡± El advanced on their friend, hands outstretched for JP¡¯s imminently wringable neck. ¡±I¡¯m going anyway.¡± Keeka declared, ignoring JP¡¯s sudden struggle for survival. He spun back to meet Anesh¡¯s eyes. ¡°I should¡­ I should be there. Arrush might need me. Or¡­ or something. I don¡¯t want to not be there, if I can¡­ if there¡¯s¡­ if something happens.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°Agreed.¡± He said simply, so simply that Alanna could feel the confusion that filled the gap in Keeka¡¯s emotions as half his worry was banished in an instant. ¡°I¡¯m also already packed. So let¡¯s go. Alanna? El?¡± ¡±¡­If Momo¡¯s not dead, she can handle herself.¡± El looked up from helping Alanna put JP in an armbar. ¡°I¡¯d get in the way. Especially in the suburbs, no time or space for Velocity recharging, which makes my special bullshit kinda useless.¡± ¡±I actually do have Response duties.¡± Alanna grumbled. ¡°But if you¡¯re going, I¡¯ll feel better. And you can always call.¡± Anesh smiled at her and waited for his partner to finish manhandling JP to give her a kiss. While JP straighten up and tried to comb his hair back to pretend he hadn¡¯t just been tackled, Anesh brushed past him, patting his friend on the shoulder. ¡°Thanks.¡± He said. ¡°Fold one of me and Keeka into whatever plans you have. We¡¯re heading down now and we¡¯ll meet up with the others.¡± ¡±There¡¯ll be a lot of Order in that city.¡± JP mentioned casually. ¡°Along with maybe a whole pillar. You sure¡­?¡± ¡±JP.¡± Anesh said quietly. ¡°I hear you. Things are getting weird, and a little out of hand. But you know, I¡¯m not helpless. And besides, I¡¯m James¡¯ understudy.¡± ¡±For what?¡± JP asked before he could stop himself. Anesh smiled. ¡°For mouthing off to the godlike magical dickheads whenever he¡¯s busy being shot at.¡± He reminded their rogue. ¡°Now get me the address.¡± JP nodded, and he took a piece of paper from Planner that came out of nowhere to present to Anesh, who started filling out a telepad, going over multiple pages as he prepared ahead of time for needing to blip back and forth between the safehouse and the Lair, while still leaving a lot of the book blank. There was only a little hesitation and a few goodbyes before one Anesh and Keeka vanished from the Lair, backpacks full of emergency kit and also clothing slung over their shoulders. JP shook his head, already talking to Planner about scheduling for available backup and planning their next operation as they walked back into the rear part of the Lair. Meanwhile, Alanna leaned over to El, looming over her a little as she made a conspiratorial comment. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna be one of those weirdos that¡¯s obsessed with, like, combat as a kink thing or whatever.¡± She started. ¡°But holy shit Anesh is hot when he talks like that.¡± ¡±Didn¡¯t need to hear that thanks!¡± El shoved Alanna away with a palm in her face, the taller woman laughing boisterously as they both broke off to head back to where they were supposed to be today. The two Anesh left in the lobby shook their heads at each other. ¡°Well, good to know then.¡± One of him said. ¡°Do you think Alanna forgets we¡¯re here when one of us leaves the room? Because that has happened before.¡± He nodded to himself sadly. ¡°I¡¯d have thought she¡¯d have learned. Anyway. Back to work on the Climb items?¡± His counterpart had a quick thought. ¡°After we call James.¡± He said as they thought it at the same time. Just because James was unharmed didn¡¯t mean that Anesh didn¡¯t want to check in on him. Even if his boyfriend would have one of him there with him to help out. Anesh hadn¡¯t really connected with himself for a couple weeks or so at this point, but he still felt like one person. And that one person still had an almost burning well of compassion and love for his partners. He¡¯d never really thought of himself as that passionate, but now that he had some perspective on himself, from himself, he was finding it easier and easier to accept that it was just incredibly pleasant to love openly and vibrantly. Even if right now, that meant calling his boyfriend to demand why he¡¯d driven into a spell that wiped his memory. Chapter 292 ¡°Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.¡± -Maya Angelou- _____ From James¡¯ perspective, an expanding dome of grey licking fire washed past them with a complete lack of sensation, and then, he was sitting in an idling car streetside about a block away and the sky had shifted from light pollution nighttime to cloudless midday. ¡±-ight.¡± He was saying. For some reason. It was like his mouth was finishing a word on reflex; he¡¯d started talking and then kept going on momentum, even though he had no idea what he was saying. ¡°What the fuck.¡± ¡±Where are we?!¡± Arrush¡¯s voice was a frantic demand, confusion mixed with the tension of a moment ago triggering a deeply ingrained fear in the ratroach of having been moved while he¡­ slept? ¡±Why am I in a car?¡± Charlie asked, his voice drawing startled shouts from all three other people present. Arrush even twisted so fast James heard a snapping sound from one of his arms as the ratroach pressed himself back in a panic. ¡°And why is Momo stabbing the car?¡± ¡±I have no idea!¡± Momo¡¯s voice was a high pitched squeal. In the front seat, James got his own breathing a little under control, reaching out a reassuring hand to Arrush while he turned around to see Momo with a craft knife in her hand and a message carved into the back seat of their rental car. ¡°Charlie, where the fuck did you come from?!¡± James felt Arrush¡¯s claws clasp around his fingers, wincing at the pressure, as he replied. ¡°From their atonement prison, probably.¡± He said, taking another breath and reading the roughly carved letters in their back seat. Dome erases writing memory. They have defense. Us unseen. Cam/pillar here. Check buffet. The letters were sliced deeply into the rental car¡¯s fake leather seat, but James could see how the start of Momo¡¯s message had started to seal itself back up. It was also a real challenge to read; Momo¡¯s penmanship was bad to begin with, and using a craft blade on the medium of ¡®car¡¯ didn¡¯t improve it. James considered asking her what happened to her skill ranks in calligraphy, but the thought spun away from his thoughts before he could voice it. Thinking felt like slogging through mud. ¡±I-I¡¯m s-scared.¡± Arrush chittered out quietly, just for James to hear. James squeezed his claw. ¡±Yeah, I get ya. This kind of attack is¡­ I¡¯m never gonna get used to it.¡± He bit his lip, spending a moment considering if he¡¯d just made a joke, and opted to simply move on. ¡°Okay. Charlie, you doing okay?¡± The normally stoic man frowned, looking down at the backs of his hands with a worried examination. ¡°Not feeling great. Lotta random pains. Also breathing is hard.¡± He pulled the side of his shirt up and tried to look at his flank. Not that he had to; the noise of sympathy that Momo made at the massive black and purple bruise there was enough to let him know what he was trying to learn. ¡°I think I got in a fight. What happened, after I left for the meeting?¡± ¡±You went to a meeting, got in a fight, and got thrown in church jail.¡± ¡±I got to be an anchorite?¡± Charlie¡¯s bland sense of humor seemed unaffected. James didn¡¯t have time for it. ¡°We tailed them to here, where they were planning to wipe your memory and cut you loose. Figured we¡¯d pick you up and get a location for the other prisoners. But¡­ well, turns out the memory attack is an AOE. Also you can¡¯t breathe because it¡¯s a hundred and ten degrees in here. Arrush, I love you, but I need my hand back to roll the windows down.¡± He did so, venting the burning air out of the car and letting in the smell of hot desert air that had a suburb inflicted on it but hadn¡¯t had the time to build up a layer of vehicle fumes. It smelled better than the car itself, at least. ¡±So¡­¡± Momo started. ¡°Get Planner down here? Maybe every other infomorph we have? Kick in the door and take their shit? Take all the prisoners?¡± ¡±Take no prisoners.¡± Charlie corrected as an automatic response. Momo clenched a fist in front of her face in a dramatic move she¡¯d stolen from an anime. ¡°No. Take their prisoners.¡± She reiterated. ¡±Good idea. Zhu, how¡¯s¡­¡± James faltered, his anger and readiness to fight fading as he called his friend¡¯s name and realized that he felt lighter than he should. ¡°¡­Zhu?¡± Heart thudding, James got at least a little relief in short order as a muffled voice came from under his shirt¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s not do that again.¡± Zhu groaned like a faltering engine. ¡°You okay?¡± James already knew the answer. Zhu took a moment to reply. To the others, the end result of what had happened was that they had been driving one second and parked the next and all the intervening time was a blank. Disorienting, for certain. Confusing, naturally. But painful? Well, maybe for Charlie. But for Zhu¡­ Despite the fact that navigators were, in a lot of ways, living maps, Zhu wasn¡¯t a memeplex. He wasn¡¯t actually free floating information that lived in an area; he existed as a pattern of possibly arcane thoughts and memories in parallel with the mundane functions of other minds. A huge part of his existence was, yes, maps and directions and routes and other such associated elements; and that was also the kind of thought that he rode like carrier waves. Which, unfortunately, meant that an attack like this didn¡¯t just mess with his perception of reality, though it did do that too. It also just hurt like hell. Much like how a human would feel a bit of a pinch if someone carved off a half pound of skin and muscle from one of their legs. Really, Zhu felt like he was doing a great job holding his manifestation together when his projecting self was reeling in agony. ¡°I¡¯ll live.¡± He told James. ¡°But¡­ don¡¯t let a navigator go through that unless whoever they¡¯re in has the purple for the map brain you do.¡± He felt like that sentence had some holes in it, but thinking felt hard right now. Oh, he wasn¡¯t lined up with James. They¡¯d become offset. If Zhu didn¡¯t trust James implicitly, he might be worried; this would be the perfect time for an unwilling host to break him off and leave him to die. But he did, so he focused on getting both of their thoughts back in fighting shape, instead of worrying about his own defenses. ¡±Where are Alice and Dance?¡± Charlie asked, speaking up over the sound of a few hundred cars going by outside their idling vehicle, midday traffic in full effect. ¡°Are they okay?¡± ¡±Everyone else is fine.¡± James filled him in. ¡°Or, at least, they were when we¡­ okay! You know what? First order of business is getting back and getting in contact and-¡± ¡±No.¡± Charlie stopped everyone before they could place calls. ¡°We don¡¯t know if we¡¯re being monitored now.¡± He pointed out at the road, as James and Momo both received skulljack communication requests. ¡°Get us moving, we can get a hotel and make sure we aren¡¯t bugged.¡± ¡±You think they wiretapped our car?¡± Momo asked, before instantly following up the message with, ¡°No, yeah, I guess we wouldn¡¯t know. Shit, what if they stole a skulljack? What if they¡¯re listening to this?!¡± ¡±That would be bad. And the second part probably isn¡¯t happening. Our encryption isn¡¯t magically copyable, probably.¡± James supplied. ¡°But irrelevant to this issue.¡± Out loud, he spoke to Arrush with a nod. ¡°Take Zhu.¡± He said, prompting the navigator across their connection. Zhu¡¯s weakened and lighter glowing orange feather-and-eyeball form rippled across their joined hands, taking on a ragged look as he grew across Arrush¡¯s head and neck. He could guide their driver somewhere without having to speak or send anything at all, and he lit up a guideline in Arrush¡¯s vision as soon as he was there. They sat in nervous silence as they joined the flow of traffic and headed to a Comfort Inn a few miles away. No one was happy about how this had turned out, but at least Charlie was safe, and they could start making a plan for what to do about this shitty situation. For his part, James felt like he had a burning need to get a cork board and some red string while his thoughts were fresh. Momo just wanted to tell El and Speaky that she wasn¡¯t dead yet. Charlie was more patient, but did want to let his team know he was okay. In short order, and without anyone following them that they could find, they arrived at the hotel, checked into a room for the day on Charlie¡¯s expense account, checked their clothes for mundane listening devices, had Zhu explain that he didn¡¯t know how to check for magical listening devices, and decided this was probably they were going to get in terms of security. When James turned his phone on, he had a few irate messages from his partners. It was all a rather unpleasant way to start the day. And the worst part was, he was pretty sure he hadn¡¯t actually slept since a tiny nap yesterday afternoon. _____ Apparently, JP and Nate and the rogue side of the Order had already set up a doctrine for how to deal with¡­ well, not this exact situation, but one that looked shockingly similar. One of the rogues in training, along with Ben, popped out of a teleport somewhere nearby, and set upon the group. Rapidly sweeping for bugs, swapping out their phones, and taking the rental car away to be traded in for a less known one. The rental car part even included filling half the tank with repair gas so that Momo¡¯s message on the back seat would fade, though after it was documented. Not that James planned to forget it anytime soon. There was a pillar here. Not just here, in Utah; they knew that the Long Arm Of The Law could operate in the state. But here. Probably here here. James didn¡¯t like the thought. But he was going to have to get used to that feeling. As soon as the rogues left, with James not even really getting a chance to meet the new guy or chat with Ben, they moved to an emergency strategy meeting involving the rest of the Order. James and three other selected representatives chosen from the roster mostly for their availability on short notice. ¡±This is beyond an investigation at this point.¡± JP opened with. And then, knowing the call was being watched by a good chunk of the Order and also probably recorded, introduced himself with his usual suave attitude. ¡°Hi. JP. Rogues and assorted sundries.¡± There was a small pause, and then his end of the call caught him muttering. ¡°No, I¡¯m not introducing you too, and you can ask him yourself later. He just dresses like that. I know-¡± ¡±The importance of the having the full picture is critical.¡± Knife-In-Fangs spoke next, digital voice carrying enough background noise that James was pretty sure he was actually working in the kitchen at the moment as he cut off JP¡¯s pointless side conversation. ¡°Ah, hello. I am Knife-In-Fangs, knight and responder.¡± The last person opted to introduce themselves first, just to shake things up. ¡°Karen Ward, Recovery. Perhaps not the best selection for a security meeting, but quite a few of our people are out right now on delves and other things. Now, can someone fill me in on what we¡¯re investigating exactly?¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± James took a deep breath. ¡°Okay. So¡­¡± he paused, sitting cross legged on the end of the hotel bed as he tried to figure out how to explain this whole thing, the new phone propped up on the roughly upholstered chair he¡¯d dragged to the middle of the room. Momo intercepted his attempted explanation, shoving herself into the camera¡¯s frame. ¡°A group of kids found a dungeon, and told their parents, who told their church. The church started using one of the spells from the dungeon to brainwash kids as part of a special program thing, but it worked too well, and the kids kept delving on their own cause they wanted to do prove their devotion to god or something. So to control that, they capped access to spellbooks, and made up an excuse about demons attacking people with magic at night to keep everyone in check, except the demons are just their own summons - that¡¯s right, yeah?¡± She glanced at James. ¡±Pretty sure. The guys who attacked Alice and Dance summoned some things, right?¡± Arrush, sitting on the floor by the room¡¯s bathroom door and keeping himself out of shot, nodded slowly, grimacing at the memory. ¡°Yeah. Right so far.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± Momo lost no momentum, launching back into her explanation. ¡°So they¡¯re using the magic to reinforce piety or something, the kids are setting up an underground ¡®resistance¡¯ network except instead of resisting they¡¯re kind of accelerating, the church is putting some of the delvers who are problems in secret church jail, but also they¡¯re recruiting whole families of people to go into different special non-jail? Because they think the world is going to end. So, like¡­ they think they have an escape route or something?¡± ¡±Honestly?¡± James asked, sucking on his teeth. ¡°My money is on ark.¡± ¡±Sure. Anyway there¡¯s two different conspiracies, one that¡¯s top level that¡¯s doing the brainwashing, if they weren¡¯t lying during their secret meeting, and one that¡¯s a different group relocating a lot of ¡®recruits¡¯. Oh, and about half that second group are nonhuman shapeshifters pretending to be human.¡± Momo finished. Paused. Looked at James and forced out a breath. ¡°My head hurts.¡± James looked at his phone camera. ¡°Does that help?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh! Right, Momo wasn¡¯t here for this part, but there¡¯s either one guy or a group of a few guys who are planning a heist on the magically created gold hidden under one of the local meetinghouses. Or maybe temples? I¡¯m gonna be honest, despite the lack of head injuries, I¡¯m having a hard time keeping the terms straight. Anyway, he¡¯s unrelated to the church conspiracy.¡± ¡±If I say that didn¡¯t help, it¡¯s won¡¯t get better.¡± Karen answered dryly. ¡°What are our options?¡± JP cleared his throat. ¡°Well, we could leave.¡± He opened with. ¡±Unacceptable.¡± Knife-In-Fangs countered. ¡°People need help.¡± ¡±People need help in other places too.¡± JP replied before James could get a word in. ¡°What are you accomplishing down there, that isn¡¯t meddling in other people¡¯s internal crap?¡± James tightened up, feeling like JP was putting him on the defensive in a way that he was having a hard time dealing with emotionally at this particular moment. ¡°At the very least, we know there¡¯s a dungeon.¡± He said. ¡°Minimum, I want to know about it. Possibly delve it if we can. But also, Knife-In-Fangs is right. There are people here who need help.¡± ¡°I have a concern.¡± Karen spoke with a heavy tone, and paused to make sure she was being given room to speak on the digital conference. ¡°Is your issue that they are religious?¡± ¡±Mmh.¡± JP made a noise around sipping at his coffee. ¡°Yeah, you do have a problem with that.¡± ¡±I had a problem with that in high school.¡± James snapped at his friend. ¡°But also, I get why Karen is asking. No. My issue is entirely with the brainwashing of children.¡± He took a slow breath to compose himself. ¡°And I¡¯m not being hyperbolic about raising kids in a church. I mean, they are using magic and making victims who are happy to be victims. That¡¯s not¡­ even close to okay. The freedom to have a personal faith is one thing, the freedom for a hierarchical organization to dictate what you think before you¡¯re allowed to get a driver¡¯s license is another.¡± JP didn¡¯t look fully convinced. ¡°I know it¡¯s been a while since this last came up, but man, you know that you used to get pretty mad about-¡° ¡±What if it were the Sewer?¡± James¡¯ snarled question cut across the call, and JP snapped his mouth shut so quickly James was pretty sure he heard his teeth clack. Karen and Knife-In-Fangs just watched him, appraising and curious respectively. To James¡¯ side in the physical world, he saw Arrush¡¯s tense form start twitching as the anxious ratroach heard mention of his origin dungeon. Around his shoulders, Zhu extended a gnarled wing and claw that settled with gentle pressure onto Arrush¡¯s own hand, offering what comfort the navigator could with a touch and small whispers. ¡°What if¡­ what if we were talking about the Sewer here?¡± James repeated. ¡°What if it was pressuring the emotionally live ratroaches and labratoads into using a magic that made them believe the Sewer was divine? They cast a spell on themselves, and it makes them fanatics, and so they¡¯re happy to cast the spell again, and again, and again. To the point that they¡¯re willing to kill or die for their god? What would we be doing?¡± ¡±Killing everything that thought that was a good idea.¡± Knife-In-Fangs supplied handily. ¡°Already the only reason we have not attempted to kill the Akashic Sewer is its ability to move, and the presence of victims within it. So yes. We would react with aggression.¡± ¡±The problem is that it could force its creations to fight.¡± Karen pointed out, tapping a painted fingernail on her lips. ¡°Ah. I see. You¡¯re equating the social pressure. Which isn¡¯t entirely unfair, when I was younger I knew people who couldn¡¯t say no to their parents. I do somewhat understand.¡± She sighed. ¡°But I would ask that we please not kill any of the leadership of a worldwide church?¡± James reflexively tried to diffuse the situation with humor. ¡°Only if they try to kill me first. And most of them are over eighty years old, so that seems unlikely.¡± He sighed, letting go of some of the tension. ¡°Honestly, this second conspiracy? The¡­ ark thing, or whatever? I have no problem with it. They¡¯re being weird and creepy, but¡­¡± ¡±But we know the world is headed for trouble.¡± Knife-In-Fangs picked up what James was putting down. ¡°They are not actually wrong. They are acting on¡­ actually, why do they know that?¡± ¡±Coincidence?¡± JP asked, playing at naive optimism. James suspected he knew. ¡°Pillar.¡± He answered flatly. ¡°Momo¡¯s note mentioned one, but not a name. Oh, also a Camille. Could be Lloyd, but it¡¯s probably not? Doesn¡¯t really matter.¡± ¡±Feels like this matters.¡± Knife-In-Fangs replied. ¡°Losing track though. What is your desired goal?¡± James looked up at the popcorn ceiling of the small hotel room. ¡°Remove their ability to do the brainwashing thing, which means getting ahold of the book that spell is from. Make peaceful contact with the other faction, see if we can arrange dungeon access through them. Ideally, get mandatory therapy for the victims, and whatever we¡¯re calling what we did to the Alchemists for the perpetrators. And also learn what we can about the pillar in the area.¡± ¡±Sorry, was there something about¡­ a gold heist? What the fuck have you been doing down there?¡± JP asked, clearly trying to manage his own headache. ¡°You definitely said gold heist at some point. Is that not on your list of goals?¡± ¡±JP we produce twenty million dollars worth of platinum a month, I don¡¯t give a single solitary fuck about if a bunch of Mormon wizards want to convert plastic waste into gold.¡± James answered honestly. ¡°In fact, you know what? Good for them. Keep the oceans clean.¡± Karen cleared her throat. ¡°The scale of-¡° ¡±Oh I know.¡± James groaned, throwing up his hands. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not asking for permission to destroy all of organized religion today-¡° JP took a sip of his coffee. ¡±Today.¡± He grumbled. ¡±¡­but I am asking that we do what we do. That we help people who are being hurt. I know that there¡¯s stuff going on. I know I banished a bunch of new paladins to find us new problems. I know JP¡¯s only half paying attention because he¡¯d doing some potentially disastrous stuff in Alaska. I know we have delves and experiments and initiatives and all sorts of shit happening. I don¡¯t need that much support, honestly, that¡¯s the whole point of trusting me with paladin levels of magic. I just want a sanity check, okay?¡± ¡±You have my approval.¡± Knife-In-Fangs told him. ¡°But I am biased.¡± ¡±In all honesty, I find the idea of forcing belief to be¡­ uncomfortable.¡± Karen said, mouth settling into an unhappy line. ¡°If you think you can do this without major issue, I am tentatively okay with letting you do so.¡± JP rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sending you a couple people.¡± He said. ¡°Because I can¡¯t stop them anyway. You¡¯ll thank me later. Especially since Charlie¡¯s team probably doesn¡¯t want to stick around.¡± ¡±They don¡¯t. I checked.¡± James would miss the three of them, but they weren¡¯t either combatants or diplomats. They were willing to hang around until the dungeon was located, just so they could get the experience for future scouting operations, but that was it. Alice and Charlie both individually had told James that they were unwilling to risk each other, or Dance, when that just weren¡¯t prepared to fight other humans. Especially if they were enhanced in some way. ¡°General approval?¡± He asked JP. ¡°Ninety percent.¡± JP checked the active internal vote the Order used for things like this. ¡°Okay. Get back to work, you dumbass. And try not to embarrass us.¡± ¡±You do get that I regularly save people¡¯s lives as a hobby, right?¡± James shot back at his friend, incredulous at JP¡¯s attempt to make this look like a favor or something. ¡°Whatever. Thank you to everyone.¡± He ended the call, let go of the tight control he was keeping on his mind and body, and flopped backward onto the uncomfortable hotel bed with a long groan of pain and exhaustion. Momo popped her head up from where she was sitting on the floor opposite Arrush, her back against the bed. ¡°Well that went well!¡± She said. ¡±You know¡­¡± James rolled onto his side, meeting Arrush and Zhu¡¯s eyes where his partner and his less romantic partner were leaned against the wall, Arrush¡¯s tail flicking nervously as he pulled at the chitin banded flesh with a couple of his hands. ¡°I¡¯m trying to be, you know¡­ understanding. Not neutral, but empathic and tolerant and stuff. I¡¯m holding back a lot from going in guns blazing and trying to fix this with overt hostility. But they¡¯re brainwashing kids with magic, and saying it¡¯s part of their beliefs, and I¡­ I don¡¯t know how to react to this. Should people have the right to alter their own kid¡¯s brains? I don¡¯t fucking think so.¡± Arrush nodded. ¡°Th-then stop there.¡± He said. ¡±What?¡± The momentary confusion on James¡¯ face got a high pitched burst of laughter out of Momo as he propped himself up on an elbow to face Arrush more clearly. The ratroach flushed neon green as he slunk down lower, the feeling of having a conversation with less known people in the room still not comfortable to him. ¡°Stop.¡± He reiterated. ¡°You think it is wrong. That¡¯s all. You said, just then, what if it were my¡­ the Sewer.¡± Arrush coughed lightly, his voice rasping as he struggled with speaking while his lungs were in the regrowth phase. ¡°Your world is normal to you. You¡¯re used to them. I¡­ I understand. But s-so far, they j-just look like more monsters to me.¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. James rolled back to sit on the edge of the bed, before sliding himself off to drop to the floor, scooting over until he was next to Arrush. He sighed, worries and anxieties clawing at his thoughts about a half dozen different things, as he leaned lightly on his boyfriend¡¯s flank. ¡°You know¡­ I¡¯m so fucking embarrassed about Earth sometimes.¡± He said. While Arrush gave him a nervous chitter, Momo gave her own dramatic groan. ¡°Oh man, yeah. Fucking sucks! When I¡¯m hanging out with Cheha or Paper-And-Words and we go on walks, I get fucking secondhand humiliation from other people littering.¡± ¡°¡­That is¡­ technically like what I meant, yes.¡± James slowly tried to find a way to say ¡°Yes, but also no.¡± Arrush got it though. ¡°You want things to be better. And you¡¯re going to try. And I will help.¡± He nodded. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m tired. It¡¯s making me¡­ uh¡­ ah¡­ this.¡± He held up two of his claws, trying to hold them flat but having a hard time as he kept trembling and clenching muscles without meaning to. ¡°Don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± James said. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the safehouse. You can nap, I¡¯ll check in with whatever poor dumbasses JP roped into this, talk to Lincon, start making a plan of attack¡­¡± he nodded to himself. Break what needed to be done into manageable parts. ¡°Oh, gotta figure out who exactly we¡¯re kicking down the door of, too. Obviously.¡± ¡°That kind of attention to detail is why we¡¯re friends!¡± Momo declared. ¡°And also why we have a SWAT team!¡± ¡±The shield teams aren¡¯t¡­¡± James didn¡¯t finish that sentence. Especially because he knew that half of their training actually literally was SWAT team field exercises. Momo nodded like she could hear his thoughts. Which, really, he wouldn¡¯t put past her. ¡°Also I like the diplomacy thing. I don¡¯t really like how all the Status Quo people we meet are ¡®kill or be killed¡¯. I¡¯d much rather make allies with these guys.¡± ¡±Wellllll.¡± Zhu drawled out. ¡°The people who aren¡¯t summoning demons into suburbia.¡± ¡±Yeah thanks man. Not them.¡± James shook his head, squeezing Arrush¡¯s oddly placed ¡®shoulder¡¯ in a comforting move before starting to push himself upright. ¡°Okay, I want out of this conversation before Momo tries to explain diplomacy and makes me question my decision.¡± A few minutes later, they were back at the safehouse, and James got to meet the dumbasses who¡¯d been roped into this. Anesh found the title to be a little uncalled for. But they still got down to business right away anyway. _____ After James had been greeted by Anesh and Arrush had been similarly assaulted by a hug from Keeka, he took care of a goodbye. ¡±It¡¯s been fun working with you.¡± James said, shaking Charlie¡¯s hand before moving to Alice. She was dead on her feet, and yawned through trying to say something. ¡°I agree, we should do this again sometime.¡± James smiled, the caffeine he¡¯d replaced his blood with doing work along with his relatively new Energy stat to keep him perked up. ¡±We¡¯re gonna go do nothing for a week then go look at a museum.¡± Dance informed him, pausing briefly before adding, ¡°The museum might be haunted!¡± ¡±¡­c-cool.¡± James didn¡¯t know what the hell to say to that. Charlie shook his head slightly. ¡°We can¡¯t prove that, obviously. And yes, it was good to make some actual progress for once. Next time, maybe we can do it with less shooting and kidnapping.¡± James winced. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ see what I can arrange?¡± He offered. He felt really, really bad about how things had gone. His own presence, and the way he went about pushing buttons to try to sus out new leads, had a basically straight line of connection to Alice getting shot and Charlie getting imprisoned and mildly memory wiped. And despite being smart people, who were happy to help the Order in their role as scouts, and who had more than a few magic tricks and skill ranks, none of them were combatants. Not really. James was honestly relieved to see them off. He didn¡¯t want anyone getting hurt, but he wanted this weird little found family to get hurt less than most. The trio teleported away, leaving the rental home they were using as a base a little quieter. James would probably have to take over the cooking, too, which sounded exhausting right now. He already missed Charlie making breakfast for them. The addition of new people offset the difference. Sure, Charlie¡¯s group were gone, but Anesh and Keeka were here. And Myles and Yin leaving had been replaced by Momo, Rho, and Ink-And-Key, who James noticed seemed to relax slightly now that he was the only camraconda in the living room. ¡±You okay?¡± James asked. ¡±Ah. Yes, I am¡­ yes. Well, no.¡± Ink-And-Key arched his heavy form into an arc, tilting his head as he considered whether to reply. ¡°Speaking with Dance is¡­ odd? Odd. Or uncomfortable.¡± He looked around at the others, mostly ignoring the conversation as they were in the middle of unpacking or looking over the notes the group had made so far. Like he was waiting to be reprimanded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t want to be mean. She is just very human.¡± James winced again. ¡°Ah.¡± He said, feeling like an idiot for not having anything more to say. ¡°In a way it is good. But it makes me worry about her. And me.¡± The titanic white cabled camraconda let out a huff of air that turned into an unintentional hiss. ¡°This is not important.¡± ¡±It feels important.¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°But, I guess I can understand it feeing like it¡¯s maybe not the most pressing thing in the world to deal with. So. Hey!¡± He called out, not loudly enough to panic anyone he hoped. ¡°Everyone huddle up! We need to plan our next move.¡± In short order, the living room was filled up again. Anesh, Keeka, and Arrush claimed the couch; the smaller ratroach looking intermittently determined and focused, and just deeply happy with being surrounded by boyfriends. Zhu was still being worn by Arrush, but looked half asleep, which was a bizarre thing for someone who only selectively had an exhaustable body. Momo took the floor by the armchair, Ink-And-Key took the chair itself, and James wondered what the hell those two were thinking sometimes. Rho sitting on the floor was normal, Momo sitting on the floor just reminded James that she was dealing with a possibly permanent injury. Lincon joining them was unexpected, but the nervous teenager, once he got over freezing in fear at the presence of a second ratroach as he came up from the basement, took one of the chairs at the kitchen table to listen in. ¡°Okay.¡± James said. ¡°First priority is diplomatic contact. We need to find and approach some of the people from our bonus conspiracy, without letting them get the drop on any of us this time. Having contact will give us a more constant source of information, and an in for applying leverage against their other, shittier conspiracy. Yes, Lincon, you have a question?¡± James pointed at the young man raising his hand politely, heads turning from the group to follow his finger. ¡±¡­what¡¯s the second conspiracy? Is it¡­ us?¡± He asked with badly concealed suspicion. ¡±Us, as in, you and the other rebels, us as in the delvers that tipped over too far into fanaticism, or us as in us in this room?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°Because it¡¯s none of those.¡± James gave a lopsided smile at his boyfriend. ¡°Not sure why you-¡° ¡°Yes, yes, I got ahead of myself. You¡¯ve been rubbing off on me.¡± ¡±Yeah you-¡° ¡±Momo shut the fuck up.¡± James held a hand in her direction as he found call to say that for a second time today. ¡°Please.¡± He tried to show that he wasn¡¯t actually angry, just a bit exhausted, and he was pretty sure she got it since she was still grinning to herself. ¡°Lincon, the second conspiracy are the people ¡®kidnaping¡¯ larger groups. They¡¯re¡­ well, they¡¯re moving people to somewhere they think is safe, in preparation for the end of the world. We think.¡± Lincon looked around at the group of Order knights. ¡°That¡¯s really stupid.¡± He said. ¡±Uh¡­¡± Momo cleared her throat. ¡°Am I still shutting the fuck up?¡± She asked James. ¡±No, no, go ahead.¡± ¡±Yeah, sorry kid, world might be ending.¡± Momo shrugged. Keeka twisted between Anesh and Arrush to look over the back of the couch, his smoothed claws pushing divots into the padded material as he held on. ¡°It might not! James is working on it!¡± He sounded happily optimistic about the whole thing as Arrush trailed an uncertain claw down the back of his chitinous neck. ¡±Wait¡­ if you¡¯re¡­ if the world is¡­ but¡­¡± Lincon¡¯s eyes started to water, the broad shouldered teen shooting to his feet as he snapped his gaze around at them. ¡°What are you doing here then?!¡± He shouted at them. ¡±¡­people like you need us here.¡± James said simply, like it was that obvious. And Lincon was so stunned by the blunt statement that didn¡¯t happen in the real world often enough for him to have ever heard anything like it that he sat back down with a thump. ¡°Now. The second conspiracy - I¡¯m gonna call them Arkists, since we¡¯re all pretty sure they¡¯re loading people into a dungeon, right? That just seems¡­ like the most likely leap in logic here?¡± He got thumbs up from Momo and Arrush, and a bobbing nod from Ink-And-Key. ¡°Cool. The Arkists aren¡¯t all human. As a heads up, Momo and I estimate, what, thirty percent some kind of shapeshifter?¡± ¡°But¡­¡± Lincon¡¯s broken voice stalled James again. ¡°The ones that shapeshift¡­ they¡¯re still demons. They¡¯re evil. All of them are evil. Aren¡¯t¡­ aren¡¯t they?¡± He looked at James with eyes on the verge of dripping tears, like he just wanted any validation for what he¡¯d been told, or maybe what he¡¯d been doing. James didn¡¯t give it to him. He¡¯d told Lincon early on that he wasn¡¯t going to lie to the young man, and he stuck to that. Mostly because James kind of hated lying. ¡°Lincon, I need you to understand how entirely ahistorical that is to me. There¡¯s, like, at least two kinds of shapeshifter in the Order, and they¡¯re all co- okay one of them is cool. Whatever Prince and Ruby actually are as a species, they¡¯re kinda assholes as individuals. But they¡¯re assholes in that way where I say they¡¯re assholes and then I¡¯d still throw down to protect them if they needed me. One of the guys helping to run this operation, Ben, is shapeshifter adjacent, and the most nefarious thing he does is forget that he doesn¡¯t have to lie about his backstory.¡± ¡±You will feel worse to know I may qualify as well.¡± Rho said. Lincon stared at Rho in silence, eyes getting somehow wider, not replying to the comment. Arrush looked between the two of them. ¡°Oh.¡± He commented roughly. ¡°You did not meet Rho.¡± ¡±The dog talks.¡± Lincon¡¯s voice was the kind of tone someone used when they¡¯d just been way too overloaded and couldn¡¯t experience any more surprise for the day. ¡±I may not legally qualify as a dog.¡± Rho informed him. ¡°I may be a type of shapeshifter.¡± He left it at that, cold inhabitor-controlled canine eyes staring at Lincon. ¡±¡­hi.¡± Lincon¡¯s reply was small and scared and tired, but James would give the kid a lot of credit; he was trying. The little hesitation there, where he stopped himself from saying something angry, that was kind of a key ability for a good knight. When this was over, James was going to offer Lincon a job. He wanted to see what the young man could do with support, training, resources, and not being hunted by an evil church. James stretched his arms over his head, feeling the ache of his larger wound and the irritation of the dozens of little scratches and bruises he¡¯d picked up so far. ¡°Alright!¡± He said with a content exhalation. ¡°So! Let¡¯s hear some ideas.¡± Momo got the first word out, but her suggestion was to go burn down every building that any of them had been in, excepting the current one. James felt like she maybe wasn¡¯t taking things seriously, but he also knew that Momo kinda did a more extreme version of what he did, and used humor to screen for how deeply afraid she was of having her mind fucked with. There was a not insignificant part of James that pushed him to give in to that impulse for solving problems with violence. But he really, really wanted that part of him to shut the fuck up. Combat was supposed to be a last resort, the thing that happened when everything else broke down and self-defense was the only thing left. It wasn¡¯t supposed to be a casually applied tool, because when it was, you got shadowy conspiracies that were totally fine killing the people they said they were helping just to make an unconfirmed problem go away. You got people that thought that car bombs and attack helicopters were solutions. ¡±Ink-And-Key, you look like you have a thought, save me from this.¡± James said instead of replying to Momo. The camraconda¡¯s idea was a little less violent, but also would take more time or people than they had at the moment. Since they knew that the delver side of this conspiracy was being run by one of the church¡¯s apostles - or at least their office - why not simply start tracking all of them until they found who it was, and talk to them directly? Of course, there were thirteen of them - James had to google that - and the fact that they only had intelligence that it was from one of their offices, which included some fairly large staff numbers in some cases, it could take a while to narrow it down. Also it didn¡¯t get them in contact with the side of the conspiracy that they wanted to talk to. The side that was maybe open to an alliance, and not a threat to human freedom. Anesh at that point asked why they didn¡¯t simply talk to the bishop that had kidnapped Charlie, since they knew he was part of that conspiracy, but James actually did have a reason not to. That guy, Anderson, was both dangerous, and entirely on board with the delver side. They needed someone who was mostly invested in the other part. They also needed to find someone who they could get a clean answer about the shapeshifters from, just in case they were about to cause a new problem. ¡±What about¡­¡± Arrush pointed at the youngest human in the room, and everyone again turned to Lincon, who looked like he was halfway between terrified of the ratroach and terrified of being the center of attention. ¡±What about me?¡± Lincon¡¯s voice cracked as he sat up straight in his chair, until he actually figured it out before James could tell him. ¡°Oh wait, shit! I know where the entrance is! A few of them!¡± James bowed his head and pressed his fingertips into his forehead, cool skin feeling comforting even through the scrapes he¡¯d gotten scaling a building¡­ was that yesterday? Time was starting to blur together for him. ¡°I had, I admit, entirely forgotten about that.¡± He told them. ¡°Okay. Wait, a few.¡± ¡±We know dungeons can have multiple doors. The Office does it.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°Even if we still can¡¯t find more than two of the bloody things.¡± ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s one in the Smith¡¯s parking lot near where I li¡­ where I used to live. There¡¯s one in the movie theater parking lot by Em¡¯s house. And there¡¯s two in the really big parking structure at the mall.¡± Lincon said. Turning and pointing dramatically at the person sitting on the floor, James raised his eyebrows. ¡°Momo?¡± ¡±On it. Smith¡¯s is a grocery store? You have a Smith¡¯s in North Smith¡¯s? This place is weird.¡± Ink-And-Key loomed over her as she compared maps and notes, custom skulljack programs letting her keep a lot more information active than most humans could. ¡°I am not even human, and I know why. Do you not read history?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t have a Lesson for it.¡± Momo said without looking up at the hundred pounds of camraconda hanging over her head. ¡±When she says ¡®lesson¡¯¡­?¡± Lincon whispered to James, who wasn¡¯t really paying attention and was also looking at google maps in his head. Keeka was paying attention though, and he answered. ¡°The dungeon that Arrush and me come from makes books that give you Lessons.¡± He said, and Lincon did his best to meet the quintet of differently shaped eyes pointed his way. ¡°If you study the subject, it makes you stronger!¡± The happy grin on Keeka¡¯s long muzzle slipped slightly, whorls of chitin shifting as he dipped his head down to the couch. ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± he tried to think of something to say, and failed. Arrush and Anesh both shifted closer to him at the same time, the human giving the ratroach opposite their boyfriend an amused smile. Anesh spoke quietly. ¡°It¡¯s alright. You don¡¯t need to be optimized.¡± Keeka nodded, sighing as he settled back onto the couch, folding his legs as he sat the wrong way, still idly watching Lincon. ¡±Can I have one?¡± Lincon asked. ¡±Probably.¡± James said offhandedly. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ve got the addresses. Now to split up.¡± ¡±Now?!¡± Anesh demanded. Arrush nodded slowly. ¡°That seems¡­ bad¡­¡± ¡±Well, it¡¯s not that bad. Momo, you¡¯re with me, we¡¯re going to go visit the place where we got mind wiped, and follow up on the note you left to check out the¡­ buffet.¡± Saying that out loud made James feel kinda dumb. ¡°Everyone else, including you Lincon if you¡¯re up for it, I want you to go to the each entrance and confirm it and get more specific details. Is there a time window or anything?¡± Lincon shook his head. ¡°Okay. Take quick looks if you think it¡¯s safe. After that, we¡¯ll meet up and start a stakeout, while Planner keeps working on finding addresses for the names we got from the meeting. Any questions?¡± Anesh had one. ¡°What happens,¡± he asked with obvious exasperation, ¡°when you end up kidnapped?¡± ¡±That¡¯s why Momo¡¯s coming.¡± James said happily. ¡°And¡­ actually, Zhu, you okay going with them?¡± The navigator gave a sleepy motion of ascent, still sitting on Arrush¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Yeah. The intent here is that I make at least neutral contact with whatever pillar is here. Or at least get eyes on them. If it¡¯s Blitzkrieg or the Chain Breaker¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do about that. But we know Lloyd can be talked to at least. And there are others, too.¡± James took a steadying breath. ¡°And if things go wrong¡­ you all won¡¯t be there.¡± He said. ¡±Except me I guess?!¡± Momo gave him a wide eyed incredulous look. ¡°You know the studs on the jacket don¡¯t actually do anything, right? I¡¯m not armored against demigods.¡± Anesh stood up from the couch, moving over to grab James¡¯ shoulders and pull him into a tight hug. ¡°If you get hurt,¡± he muttered in his boyfriend¡¯s ear, ¡°Alanna is going to murder you.¡± ¡±You too, probably. So we¡¯d better hope that doesn¡¯t happen.¡± James replied in the same low voice, returning the hug before they broke apart. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ve got a plan. Now let¡¯s get to it.¡± ____ ¡°On an adjusted scale, how important was it to ditch everyone else?¡± Momo asked. James shut the car¡¯s door, pocketing the keys as he stood and stretched. It had been a while since he¡¯d been the one driving. Being chauffeured around by Arrush was a novel experience, but one that reminded him how much he preferred to be the one behind the wheel. ¡°Adjusted for what.¡± His voice came out harsher than he meant, the last day and night blurring together into an exhausted mess where his Endurance and Energy could only do so much to give him a real second wind. Momo shrugged, checking the hundred and one pockets she had on her black jacket and cargo pants for the various tools she¡¯d brought along. ¡°Our bullshit.¡± She said simply. ¡°Six or seven.¡± James answered. ¡°Arrush, Keeka, Zhu, and Ink are all out, because if we run into a Camille, I don¡¯t want her trying to kill any of them. Lincon is¡­ I mean, when I was his age, I¡¯d be pissed, but he¡¯s nineteen. He¡¯s not ready for something like this yet. And Anesh is there to keep an eye on them. And cause I don¡¯t want him getting hurt either.¡± ¡°Mmh. Wait, hey!¡± Momo trailed after James, leaning into a jog as she caught up with him walking across the street during a lull in traffic and approaching the strip mall they¡¯d been caught out at yesterday. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re fine with me getting hurt?¡± James sighed, breathing the unfamiliar air and wishing there was a little less exhaust fume and a little more desert in the scents. ¡°It means I¡¯m counting on you if things go wrong.¡± James said. ¡±Oh.¡± Momo didn¡¯t know how to take that. ¡°Uh¡­ don¡¯t?¡± She said cautiously. ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve got a bunch of stuff to back you up with but I don¡¯t think I can fight a Camille, and I know I¡¯m not fighting a pillar. Do you really think there¡¯s one here?¡± ¡±I think I¡¯m not gonna be surprised.¡± James answered as they started to circle the edge of the strip mall¡¯s parking lot. There were a couple furniture retailers, a sporting goods store, a place that sold fabric and other craft supplies, and a few chain restaurants too, all of them in the massive box store floor plans this place was renting out. And in the middle of the weird linked horseshoe shape of the shopping center, between a derelict pet store and a couple places that were just for lease and entirely empty, one of those restaurants was a buffet. Or at least, it advertised itself that way. The windows were tinted and the front door had a yellowing cracked paint on it that made it look like the least appealing place to eat on the planet. In fact, while there were a few other people walking around and cars in the lot on this breezy yet warm Thursday, not a single person headed for the buffet. None of them even glanced at it. ¡±Quick check.¡± James said offhandedly. ¡°Does this place¡­¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, no, it doesn¡¯t have a name!¡± Momo sounded amused. ¡°Also the totem I have to finding¡­ actually that¡¯s not important. What matters is it¡¯s not a restaurant.¡± She rubbed her hands together in front of her face with an excited grin. ¡°I¡¯ve never raided a front business before! This is so cool! How much Velocity do you have stored up? We can coordinate Paving people when we walk in!¡± James was starting to regret not bringing everyone along to just storm the building. ¡°This is just checking things out.¡± He said. ¡±Suuuuure.¡± Momo sounded sure of exactly one thing, and it was the opposite. ¡±I¡¯m serious. I¡¯m here to see if there¡¯s a pillar, and if it does come up, maybe teleport a few kids out of the secret prison. That¡¯s all.¡± He tilted his head up, looking at the speckled clouds overhead, like white waves against an endless sea. ¡°And I just happened to want the people I care about a little bit out of the line of fire. How many shield bracers do you have on?¡± He asked. ¡±Eight!¡± Momo said happily. ¡°See, I knew-¡° ¡±I have six Velocity right now.¡± James answered her earlier question. Momo squinted at him, and not because of the sunlight irritating eyes that were used to her underground cave of a home. ¡°Six?¡± She asked as they approached the door. ¡°Didn¡¯t you have a whole thing about being the person trusted with a fuckload of magic? Mister paladin? And your cap is six?¡± ¡±My cap is eight, I just only have six. I¡¯ve been focusing on¡­ uh¡­¡± James didn¡¯t have a great excuse. ¡°Look, the copier ritual is good for other things.¡± ¡±Yeah? Well I¡¯ve got thirty six, and it¡¯s all compressed right now, and most of it is just from hanging out with my¡­ with El, in the Route. You can do that too!¡± ¡±I can hang out with your girlfriend?¡± James smirked as he set a hand on one of the door¡¯s curved metal handles. ¡±She¡¯s¡­ I mean¡­ look, we¡¯re¡­ it¡¯s complicated!¡± Momo flipped him off as she ran out of words. ¡°Besides the point is I can magic missile more things than you!¡± James stared at her. ¡±I¡¯ve got a gun.¡± He said, trying not to laugh. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡± The two of them pulling the doors open weren¡¯t exactly in sync, but Momo caught up soon enough and yanked her side open, the two of them walking in across the filthy linoleum of the entryway and into the hollowed out shell of what used to be a chinese food buffet. Both of them felt the pressure telling them to look away. To ignore this place. That it wasn¡¯t worth it. But it was a kind of casual memetic effect; the sort of thing that the Order actively trained people to notice and resist. Not only that, but it was clearly at a level designed to keep people from ever wanting to each Chinese food from the place that looked like its last health inspection had happened before the invention of the internet. It wasn¡¯t going to keep them out. The interior actually made James think they just bought a failing buffet and made use of it. All the serving lines and booths were still in place, with only a few places where fixtures had been removed. Small squares in the old carpet where it had been stripped away and left behind exposed plywood floor. It smelled like old shrimp. A qualia that made James deeply uncomfortable. The other thing that made James uncomfortable was that he could see through a couple of arched gaps in the wall to the right, that the seating area there had been more thoroughly redesigned. Everything pulled out, and what looked like shoddily constructed brick walls put up with heavy metal doors denoting rooms. Or maybe cells. He wasn¡¯t at a great angle to see just walking in, but it looked like the back of house area had undergone a similar treatment. Some of the doors James could see were cracked open. Many were not. And if it weren¡¯t for one important thing, he and Momo would already be trying to break those doors open. The important thing was that one of the tables in the middle of the room was occupied. Two men in polo shirts and slacks stood to either side of it, standing at attention with blank looks on their faces. While at the table, sitting with proper posture despite the cracked red padding of the bench that surrounded it, was a man in a black suit. His features shifted as James tried to look at him. Not excessively; his face maintained an Asian ancestry, however artificial. And his hair, despite changing lightly in color and length, never became anything that wouldn¡¯t be out of place in a board room. ¡°Pillar.¡± He muttered to Momo. ¡±But of course I am.¡± Said the man, not looking up. ¡°Come. Sit. Just you.¡± James elbowed his companion. ¡°Start cracking doors and or skulls.¡± He said. ¡°You good?¡± ¡±You have no idea how good I am.¡± Momo replied with a vicious smile, hand dipping into a back pocket of her coat and dumping a pile of pencils out. They trailed down toward the floor for a second in a waterfall of sharpened wood, before arresting their fall and moving up to orbit her head in a structured dance. ¡°Have fun. Yell if I need to get out of here.¡± James nodded, and the two of them shared a fist bump before he walked over to the table, took a look at the two unspeaking attendants, and sat down. ¡°Which one are you?¡± He asked, voice neutral but still with an implied impoliteness just because of what he chose to open with. ¡±You may call me Aku. Please, no nicknames.¡± The pillar said, pouring himself tea from the blue stone pot at the table¡¯s center. The name was one James recognized, because he recognized all the pillar names they knew. ¡°Ah. A Necessary Evil.¡± He took a long breath. ¡°Okay. We¡¯re sitting here, talking. So. What do you want?¡± The pillar smiled, the expression appearing on his face in a blink, a small and sharp line of amusement. ¡°I should think that would be obvious.¡± He said. ¡°After all, you came when you were called. You are one of mine, and I am here, in short, to chat.¡± Every instinct of James¡¯ told him that this was a bad idea. That he should be running for the door. That something was wrong, or that he was sitting down over some kind of supervillain pit trap, or that he was making a mistake. But despite that. Despite the obvious danger from this unassuming person shaped thing, despite his reservations about being here, despite his panic about the fact that he was apparently called here¡­ James straightened his back, leaned one wrist onto the table, and met the pillar¡¯s eyes. ¡±Okay.¡± He said calmly, skulljack already set to both record and send out the whole interaction. ¡°Let¡¯s chat.¡± Chapter 293 ¡°Are the damned and the damnable all doomed to wander to Home Depot?¡± -Dan Olson, I Don¡¯t Know James Rolfe- _____ ¡°Before anything else,¡± James held up a hand to the Necessary Evil to reject the offer of tea. Drinking literally anything here seemed beyond stupid, and only partly because the atmosphere of the derelict buffet restaurant made his appetite take flight. James rotated a bunch of questions through his thoughts; he wanted to know if he¡¯d been manipulated to come here mostly alone, or if the pillar had been waiting for long, or what its involvement in the whole thing going on here was, but¡­ ¡°I¡¯d be really curious to know how long you would have kept sitting here if I hadn¡¯t shown up.¡± He asked instead. The nebulously Asian man on the other side of the table smiled like a razorblade. ¡°You think rather highly of yourself. Perhaps you are not my only meeting today.¡± James shrugged, conceding that point. They knew there was a Camille around, so it was possible this was just a coincidence. Hell, it was possible he wasn¡¯t expected at all and this was the pillar doing damage control on his mysterious facade. ¡°Well. Good to meet you I suppose. I¡¯m-¡° ¡±I know who you are, oh yes.¡± The pillar cut him off, tilting his small teacup in his curled hand. ¡°Tell me. How do you expect this to play out, child?¡± Taking a calming moment to himself, James tried to not stare at the table¡¯s surface with bulging eyes and a huff of breath. Instead, he opted to be a little more polite as he saw Momo slip into the back kitchens and out of sight. ¡°Expect? Nothing. I¡¯ve met a few of your ilk by this point, and I know for a fact that I can¡¯t expect anything from you.¡± James said evenly. The pillar made a soft noise of appreciation. An old grandfather showing a moment of respect for the next generation. ¡°Well. You aren¡¯t as foolish as Trench made you sound.¡± ¡±¡­if you tell me that the Last Line¡¯s name is actually Trench, I will go mad.¡± James informed him flatly. ¡°I will. I can¡¯t not. That¡¯s absurd, and also I think someone else¡¯s OC at this point.¡± ¡°Perhaps I complimented too soon.¡± The Necessary Evil sipped his tea lightly. ¡°Allow me to skip the pleasantries and barbs. I¡¯m afraid I cannot allow you to interfere with the plans I have set in motion here.¡± The pillar pretended to sigh, suit rippling through a few different styles and cuts as he shook his head. ¡°It is regrettable that your righteous anger will bring us into conflict, but it is not too late to back away.¡± James sucked air through gritted teeth. ¡°I kinda figured from the Name, but I think we¡¯re going to have different ideas of what is and is not acceptable.¡± He said. ¡°Though that-¡° ¡±There is a tipping point approaching.¡± Aku cut him off. ¡°And you are holding this project on the wrong side of it. So many are. But this is needed, and one by one, I will see every obstacle to salvation cut down. If you cannot-¡° ¡±I can interrupt people too, you know.¡± James said, raising his eyebrows at the person on the other side of the table. He didn¡¯t say anything else, just leaning back, one arm over the cracked red plastic seating. Aku frowned at him, as if the idea that being interrupted might be annoying hadn¡¯t actually been considered ever before. ¡°You, I am talking to.¡± The pillar spoke, in a voice like he was unfamiliar also with the idea of being gentle, but was trying anyway. ¡°Because you understand. You could have been one of mine, you almost could be still. The others¡­ the others will need handling. But you could be convinced.¡± ¡±Why even bother?¡± James leaned forward, shifting slightly to keep the blank faced man standing by his side of the table in his line of sight. ¡°I can¡¯t tell by looking at you, but so far every pillar could rip people apart bare handed. Why bother talking, when you know you can just take what you want? I wouldn¡¯t do that, but you guys seem to love that sort of thing.¡± ¡±Especially some of my siblings in arms, yes, I am aware.¡± The Necessary Evil¡¯s mouth twisted, making him look almost embarrassed for just a brief moment before covering it with another sip of tea. ¡°There are reasons, and there are reasons, you see. And of the two, this would be the latter. You are¡­ odd. Perhaps because you, as you say, ¡®wouldn¡¯t do that¡¯. Perhaps something else. Looking backward is harder than looking forward, so none of us could properly map what brought you here.¡± James filed that away for later. ¡°But you shift balances. You defy expectations. Slightly, but certainly. And when expectations are dismal, it is the folly of man to cling to hope.¡± ¡±I mean, arguably that¡¯s why-¡° ¡±No, no.¡± Aku cut him off again with a wave of a finger. ¡°Hope does not change outcomes. Not any more than anger or sorrow or any of the other things that childish stories tell the children such as yourself of as ways to change fate.¡± James frowned, shaking his head minutely. He wanted to tell this thing across from him that interrupting people was a sign of emotional immaturity, and repeatedly calling him a child was getting old in light of that hypocrisy, but he held back. For now. ¡°So you don¡¯t want to kill me because you think I¡¯m¡­ what, a chosen one?¡± ¡±No. Our chosen ones have largely failed to accomplish anything.¡± Aku said sadly. ¡°But even with all your oddity, I would still kill you if it was required. I simply offer the choice first. And choice it is. Chosen? No. You are a choosing one.¡± Because, James knew and had known for the whole conversation, the thing was a pillar. And while it wasn¡¯t a concretely known factor, all the intelligence they¡¯d managed to put together on this particular brand of creature pointed to one outcome. Pillars had names, but those names weren¡¯t decorative. They were either a reflection or a statement of what the pillar was ¡®allowed¡¯ to get away with. Acting against their role hurt them, or drained them, or in some way limited their ability to act in the future. That the thing sitting across from him could murder the fuck out of his fragile human body was a given, but James would do his best to make it inconvenient. And he would have a lot of help, because if it wasn¡¯t necessary¡­ Then it wouldn¡¯t really line up to what the Necessary Evil was empowered to do. If it had been the Chain Breaker waiting in here for him, James would have fucking grabbed Momo and bolted. Same for the Long Arm of the Law. But for this pillar, and maybe also for Blitzkrieg if she was sitting down, he felt like he had at least a little buffer before they started shooting. ¡°Convince me,¡± James said in a deadly quiet voice, because he knew that one wrong word here would tilt him into the acceptable target zone, ¡°why we should let you mindfuck children and lock the disobedient ones in here?¡± He waved a hand around the remodeled half-buffet half-prison half-private office. Wait. James tried to focus on that last part, but didn¡¯t get far before his conversation partner spoke. ¡±In reality, I care little for children.¡± Aku said with polite poise. The thing¡¯s voice was precise, without being stilted or warped, which was an odd experience on its own. Even the Right Person, the nicest one so far, had a voice that twisted as it spoke. ¡°All that is required of them is that they eventually grow up to be useful adults. Their foundational role in civilization is one of an investment.¡± ¡±As in, a literal line on the asset sheet?¡± James didn¡¯t hide his disgust at that. The Necessary Evil waved a hand back and forth in a motion that was anything but idle. ¡°If it pleases your martyrdom complex to think so, you may. But this has always been the way of the world. Now, we simply have more knowledge and technology that allows it to be quantified.¡± He reached for his tea cup, and for a moment the table wasn¡¯t the slightly moldy chipped wood of the derelict restaurant, but a sleek glass and mahogany construct; though only around his hand, the world rippling back as he pulled away. ¡°As to what you have the capacity to disallow, it is somewhat smaller than you believe.¡± ¡±We¡¯d still try.¡± James pointed out, aiming a finger at the altered person. ¡±You would. You may even succeed at your tactical objective. But you would take losses.¡± Aku didn¡¯t look up at James, keeping his eyes tilted down at his tea, reclining in the black leather chair that didn¡¯t belong here. ¡°You would, rightly, despise me for it. You would despise yourself as well, for the cost. The strongest way in which we differ is that you still view your people as having a value that cannot be measured or balanced. And yet the strongest way in which we are the same is, I do truly believe you would do it regardless.¡± That was a grim thought. ¡±I might.¡± James admitted. ¡°But I¡¯d be fighting right there with them.¡± ¡±Of course you would. You approach the threshold, I would expect nothing less.¡± Aku stated. ¡°And yet, it costs me very little to ask you to step aside. So I ask.¡± James looked down at his own tea, using the motion to mask his own inner turmoil. And not just about when he¡¯d been poured tea; that was the kind of weird shit that happened around pillars, he got that part. No, what had him bothered was that he was legitimately considering saying yes. The pillars were beyond dangerous. Anyone who was near them could actually feel it, and while this one was sort of masking, James still understood on an almost primal level that he was easily within killing range. They were, as far as the Order knew, unkillable, capable of being anywhere, had a strange bag of metaphorical tricks, and were willing to kill anyone that got between them and their unknown goals. Being compared to them kinda sucked, honestly. Only about half of that applied to him, after all. If this one, one that was apparently ontologically evil, was politely asking not to fight, James was¡­ thrown a bit. His gut reaction was that if someone evil wanted something, it was probably a good idea to deny them that thing. But also, he didn¡¯t want to spend lives on this. Especially not if there was an alternate path to getting the child-abuse-based conspiracy to change the way they did things through diplomatic pressure. ¡±You understand that agreeing with you at all feels wrong, don¡¯t you?¡± James asked quietly. The Necessary Evil gave another of those little bladed smiles, as the world behind him became a little confusing. Was it the open floor plan of a building with all the buffet serving lines removed, or was it the textured floor to ceiling glass window of a skyscraper? Hard to tell. The motionless attendants by the table didn¡¯t react to the overlay of scenery, though James really wanted to ask. He wanted to ask a lot. Instead, he got an answer he didn¡¯t like. ¡°Have you heard the parable of the scorpion and the frog?¡± The pillar asked him, continuing without waiting for James to reply. ¡°A frog and a scorpion are sitting on a riverbank.¡± His accented voice, currently sounding crisply Chinese, wove the story in a way that pushed even James to not interrupt. ¡°The scorpion says, we both need to cross the river, carry me on your back. The frog says no! You will sting me, and I will die. Ah, says the scorpion, but if I sting you, I will drown myself. It would be foolish, and so you know you are safe.¡± He smiled at James again, sipping lightly of the tea that seemed to never end, the walls around them slipping into dark mahogany wood panels and fuzzily outlined decorations. ¡°The frog agrees, and allows the scorpion on. Halfway across the river, he feels a sting. Why? He asks. And the scorpion says only, it is in my nature.¡± James felt a pressure. Like he couldn¡¯t breathe, but also like his skin didn¡¯t fit right. That the world was warping slightly, the pillar¡¯s presence doing something to either his mind or body or both. ¡°I¡¯ve heard the story.¡± He said, words coming out thicker than he¡¯d like. ¡°I have my own preferred version. The scorpion says, carry me across please, I cannot swim. The frog says, of course old friend. They cross the river. Later they get brunch.¡± ¡±Na?vet¨¦ does not suit you, child.¡± Aku admonished him as James realized he was sitting on a leather couch and not an old cracked padded bench. ¡±My version is the world I want to live in.¡± James said simply. ¡±And mine is the world we do live in.¡± The pillar replied swiftly. ¡°Do not misunderstand me, these roles are not ours. But the majority of humanity¡­ will not change their natures. They require motivation, often coercion, simply to do what is needed to keep civilization aglow. That is my burden. Forcing the scorpions to serve the frogs.¡± James blinked. ¡°You think we¡¯re part of the problem.¡± He said, surprised. ¡°You think that the people trying to end cancer and solve the energy crisis are the problem. Not the people brainwashing children and making them into soldiers?¡± The more he rolled the thought around, the more incredulous he became. The pillar frowned, a thin line on his round face, jet black eyebrows flattening as he held back an impolite scowl. ¡±Your reductive views on faith aside, yes. For all that you have named yourself with a grand title, you do not bring order.¡± ¡±Order is overrated.¡± James said on reflex. Aku shook his head in a disproving little side to side. ¡°You have your own version of the tale. I have mine. The scorpion and the frog sit by the river. The scorpion asks to be carried, as it cannot swim. The frog agrees. It has a use for the monster, as there are other frogs. And they are, all of them, worse than the scorpion.¡± He sipped, and the walls hardened, the smell of old leather and books replacing the mildew of the derelict restaurant. ¡°The frog carries the scorpion for some time. Not as a passenger, but as a weapon. And when the enemies are defeated, and the duo have done what must be done, the frog can swim, and the scorpion cannot.¡± His accent shifted as he spoke, but his voice stayed measured and smooth. There was a meaning to the story, and James didn¡¯t find it especially subtle to extract. A lifetime of reading over his grade level had sharpened his literary criticism skills, and it wasn¡¯t hard to see what the pillar was getting at. He might feel bad about doing it, but the moment James and the Order of Endless Rooms were more trouble than they were worth, they¡¯d be drowned the same as the scorpion. The threat was a bit overt. But it still worked. James felt his heart hammering, and as it did, he realized they were almost fully somewhere else now. Furniture, walls, floor, all of it was being replaced by wherever the Necessary Evil was¡­ moving them? Or maybe always was? It was magic, in a way that most of the cause-and-effect tools the Order used wasn¡¯t, which made it hard for him to get a grasp on. And yet, he had an instinct. Along with a personal directive, that had started as a joke, and then slowly been compounded upon in his life until it was something expected of him. James might not like it, but he had a reputation to maintain. So he started talking back. ¡±The original, my ideal version, your portentous version, let me add one more.¡± He sat straight, pressing his fingertips together in front of his face. "A frog and a scorpion are sitting on a bank." James began his reply softly, staring across to actually meet Aku¡¯s eyes, even though the pillar¡¯s irises were the most in flux part of it. "The scorpion says, ''I cannot swim. May I ride upon your back?'' The frog says ''No.I know what you are. You will sting me and we will both die. That is your nature.'' The scorpion says nothing." He stared across the glass table, into the eyes of a thing that was looking at him with something close to curiosity. "Here they are, two people, talking to each other. It has been so long since scorpions learned the ways of speech and civility. It has been so long since a scorpion killed a frog. And yet the scorpion is reduced to nothing more than the sum of the parts of ancestors she will never meet. Because someone else has already decided what her nature is." He pushed the teacup away with one finger, the table sliding back in its wake from glass to old damaged wood. He hoped that the words, the eye contact, and the slight of hand that he wasn¡¯t expert at yet, all combined to be enough to mask him affixing the tracker he got from Yin to the bottom of the cup. The pillar sipped his tea. ¡°I am not sure I see your point.¡± He said bluntly. ¡±I¡¯ll explain, using small words.¡± James said, hostility bleeding through. Something he was fine with at this stage. ¡°You are underestimating the capacity that every single person has, for intelligence and compassion. You think your evil is required because you lack imagination. And it is not your place to choose a cruel order over a chaotic freedom.¡± James¡¯ voice built as he spoke, bits of the restaurant showing through his expanded peripheral vision as wherever he¡¯d been put, he put himself back where he was. Aku laughed, a simple little chuckle with no humor to it. ¡°I would have thought that, of all of the potentials, you would understand the need to work with monsters.¡± James stood up, and everything except the pillar, his two ¡®bodyguards¡¯, and his singular tea cup, vanished. It was just a shitty broken down Chinese buffet some assholes had put a bunch of cages in. ¡°The only extent to which I ever work with monsters is¡­¡± James trailed off, suddenly realizing he didn¡¯t actually have a conclusion to that sentence. He blinked, creeping confusion taking the place of righteous indignation. ¡°Uh¡­ wait, sorry, hang on.¡± Dropping back to sitting on the old cracked red plastic of the bench, he leaned an elbow on the table. ¡°I need you to give me a straight answer here. What are you asking us to not interfere with? Exactly.¡± The Necessary Evil wasn¡¯t easy to confuse, but the words actually managed to get a slow blink from the man shaped creature. ¡°I assume it was obvious, as you are already upon their trail like the hunting dogs you are. The efforts of the locals to preserve a portion of their population against disaster. It requires, sadly, cooperation from¡­ distasteful things.¡± ¡±Dungeon life.¡± James said, abruptly understanding his massive error. ¡°You mean¡­ they¡¯re working with the shifters. The things from¡­ elsewhere, however you call it.¡± ¡±A necessary evil.¡± The pillar nodded once, a quick jerk of the head. ¡°I am aware that you would have no reason to trust me, frog that you are, but I would promise that we do not need to be enemies in this.¡± James was actually dumbfounded. Completely caught off guard. There were a lot of things he¡¯d expected from a conversation with a pillar, a lot of contingencies he¡¯d planned for. Hell, just to be safe, he had been ready to call for the whole building to be carved in half with a logisticor just to get himself and the prisoners out safe. The entire primary reason Momo was here was to be splashing totem and absorbed red effects on the pillar to try to find anything they could use against it, all under the guise of running around breaking things. This was something they had a broad strategy for, even if James hadn¡¯t exactly expected to need to put it to use today. He¡¯d expected threats, even outright violence. He¡¯d expected having to make concessions. He¡¯d expected maybe needing to flee or fight. He¡¯d expected getting hurt and accomplishing nothing. What he hadn¡¯t expected, couldn¡¯t have expected, was that the pillar was¡­ fuck, how did he even phrase it? It was almost too obvious, and he hated it, but once James had the thought he couldn¡¯t shake it for a better one. The Necessary Evil, Aku, the pillar across the table from him, was so openly and defaultly racist that it saw the act of interspecies cooperation as something to be struggled through, until it got what it wanted. Suddenly, the pillar¡¯s Name wasn¡¯t a dangerous threat or a potential shield. It was, at least in this case, a matter of perspective that gave James and the Order a massive edge in every single conversation they would ever have with this fucking moron from now until he could find a way to stick Aku in a mandatory ethics and sensitivity training course. ¡±So just for the sake of clarity.¡± James said slowly. ¡°You have no interest in anything except the evacuation and resettlement thing? I assume they¡¯re going into a dungeon, by the way; we¡¯re working on finding where, but if you could confirm-¡° ¡±An odd choice of term. So accurate, but not for the reason you believe.¡± Aku mused. Opposite him, James somehow refrained from sighing or rolling his eyes. ¡°But you are correct. Onto your enemies, visit whatever violence you wish. They are not my concern. Only the preservation of seeds of civilization against the coming cataclysm.¡± ¡±Great.¡± James nodded. ¡°Done.¡± Every trace of the office, even the mirage impressions of a window and a view of an unknown city, snapped away. Confusion actually showing up on the Necessary Evil¡¯s face. ¡°¡­Really.¡± It half-asked. Clearly, the outcome wasn¡¯t one that was expected. ¡±Yup.¡± James said with a peppy energy. ¡°Oh, yeah, working with nonhuman life is super hard. I can see why you¡¯d have a problem with it. But I think we can suffer through the ordeal for a bit. No worries, your project¡¯s safe from us.¡± His ability to restrain whatever gland produced snark and veiled references was rapidly losing strength. ¡°Any other hard tasks you need done? Pick up your dry cleaning? Bring you something from Starbucks?¡± ¡±You surprise me, little anomaly.¡± The pillar said, setting down his cup and resting his fingers on the rim. ¡°But then, that is rather the point. Very well. The uncertain and discomforting deal is made. While we will never be allies, for the moment, we shall restrain our need to be enemies.¡± James pursed his lips, head tilting down and to the side at an almost painful angle as he tried to think of anything to say in reply to that. The pillar had spent half this conversation speaking in contemporary patterns, and half of it talking like he was some kind of high fantasy wizard. For just a brief moment, James pressed his eyes closed before he formed a response and looked back up. But Aku was gone. There was no sign the pillar had ever been there, except for a smooth ornate cup sitting on his side of the ruined table. No hint of the fancy and authoritative chair he¡¯d been in, just another part of the curved bench that James was on. No sign of the rest of the tea set either, which James took as a potential success. ¡±Well that was fucking weird.¡± James sighed, taking a second to compose himself. The man standing next to him ruined the moment by yelling in startled terror. ¡°Intruder!¡± His panicked shout came the moment after the Necessary Evil was gone. Now James allowed himself a sigh. He supposed it was too much to hope that the blank faced duo were some kind of golems or something that Aku would be taking back with him to his home office. ¡°Gentlemen.¡± James started talking. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose-¡° One of them slammed a fist into the side of James¡¯ head, rudely interrupting him. The blow came as he was trying to pull away, and at an odd angle, so it didn¡¯t do more than rattle him. But it was the thought that counted, and in the real world, a blow to the head like that with proper power behind it could actually be lethal, so James wasn¡¯t amused. He tried to say something else, and the guy just kept hitting him. So after the third blow to his face where James was pretty sure his singular contact lens for his unenhanced eye got knocked out, he stopped trying to talk and slipped into the too-familiar flow of violence. While his assailant was yelling about grabbing his arms to his friend, James got an arm up and snagged the wrist of the next punch driven his way. Which was good, because the man had found his footing, and this one was forceful. Pulling, using the momentum to yank the attacker off guard, James got his other hand on the man¡¯s tie, and used his weight to haul himself out of the restaurant bench and to his feet. At the same time, he listened to the artificial instincts of judo lessons he¡¯d never taken, and kept the momentum flowing to slam the man into the table hard enough to knock all the air out of his lungs. The other guard, freed from whatever mind control the Necessary Evil had used on him, surprised James by escalating without hesitation. His friend had seemed uncertain about fighting at all, but this dude barely gave James time to get to his feet before he had grabbed a metal framed dining chair from where they were piled up by the back wall, and tried to slam it into James like the world¡¯s worst mace. James shifted his feet to the side to dodge, kicking the slumped first guard in the ass and sending him sprawling mostly harmlessly into the dusty floor as James situated himself. Stepping back out of reach of another strike that came with an associated yell of rage, James made sure that he was aware of what was around him. The large table to his right, a chest high wall behind him that he was pretty sure he could kick over if he needed to, open space on the left, and the kitchen and rough footing of the torn up floor behind his attacker. The man wound up for another swipe with the chair, and James felt a weird sensation; multiple sets of ideas on how to fight, both overlapping at the same time. Skill ranks in judo telling him to go for a grab and throw, while his more recent acquisition of kickboxing telling him to go for a strike while the target was open. It was something he actually hadn¡¯t trained around, this being the first time he¡¯d been in a real fight for a while that wasn¡¯t dungeon based, and the momentary confusion made him lose both opportunities. Not enough to get hit by a chair, but enough that he needed to make some space. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Shuffling backward farther until the wall was threatening his freedom of movement, James raised his hands. ¡°Woah, hey! Let¡¯s calm down here!¡± He tried to say, holding out his hands in a placating gesture even as he toggled one of his shield bracers to ¡®chair impact¡¯. ¡±How did you get in here?!¡± The man bellowed at him with a voice that would make an angry high school football coach jealous. James was going to explain it was through the front door, but he didn¡¯t get a chance before his opponent made another attack. He didn¡¯t dodge this time, instead letting the chair slam to a stop on the dome of golden lines that his shield bracer put out around him. Then he delivered a stomping kick to the man¡¯s gut, grabbing the chair out of the air as he sent his opponent to the ground. He dropped the chair as it dragged him sideways. The thing was heavy, holy shit. ¡°You could have killed someone with this!¡± James chastised the groaning figure on the floor as he dropped the metal seat with a thud. ¡°Alright, everyone calm down, this doesn¡¯t-¡° He whipped his arm around as the first man came at him with an uncomfortably familiar dagger. James wasn¡¯t interested in getting stabbed again, so he caught the man¡¯s wrist, and then discharged all the electricity stored in his skin into the potential murderer in a painful burst. Well, painful for him. Not for James. James was fine, though the man seemed unhappy. With the two guards down, James holding the spell-made knife he¡¯d snagged without somehow cutting himself, and the situation clearly under control, Momo decided to burst into the room. ¡°Everyone freeze, FBI!¡± She yelled out, holding out her hand in a classic finger gun pose. ¡±Momo¡­¡± James didn¡¯t even know where to start with this. He looked down at the two injured and gasping men on the floor, then back at her. ¡°Where were you thirty seconds ago?¡± He asked, looking past her to where he could see faces peeking around the corner of the gap in the wall that led to the kitchens. ¡±Rescuing people? Waiting to rescue you? I dunno, there¡¯s plenty of options really.¡± She shrugged, holstering her hand into one of her jacket pockets. ¡°Where¡¯d the thing go?¡± ¡±Back to his home office, I suspect.¡± James said. ¡°What¡¯s the place look like?¡± Momo slapped her hands down the side of her jacket as she looked around. ¡°Kinda shitty!¡± She announced. ¡°Also there¡¯s a bunch of kids in cages, which I thought only the US government was allowed to do. For some reason.¡± ¡±¡­good point, let¡¯s put that on the list of things to tackle next.¡± James rubbed the back of his hand against his eye, trying to figure out if his vision was blurry because he had lost a contact, or if he¡¯d just been hit too hard. He was pretty sure it was option two. In doing so, he caught sight of one of the guards dragging himself to his knees. ¡°You! Stay on the floor!¡± James ordered in a commanding tone. ¡°If you want to sit up, against that wall. Got it?¡± The man nodded, hands in the air as he wobbled over and sat. ¡°Please don¡¯t kill me.¡± He didn¡¯t sound half as vicious as he was when he was trying to kill James with a chair. ¡°I have a-¡° ¡±Ssh. Adults are talking.¡± Momo cut him off before talking to James while keeping her eyes on the temporary prisoner. ¡°There¡¯s twenty six cells, one¡¯s empty cause I think they were keeping Charlie there. Twenty three humans in the building, which means we¡¯ve got four nonhumans, but I don¡¯t think I fuckin¡¯ care right now, do you?¡± ¡±Not even a little bit.¡± James said with a repressed snarl. ¡±Cool. Got half of them open. No one else is here, so I don¡¯t know what these two goobers are for, since they seem¡­ incompetent?¡± Momo motioned to the guards. James looked at where the two men were now cowering by the low wall and sighed again. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ve alerted Recovery, there¡¯s people getting ready to receive our newest rescues. Let¡¯s crack these things open.¡± ¡±N-no!¡± One of the men started to say, gasping around cracked ribs. ¡°You-!¡± His partner clapped a hand over his mouth, shutting him up. James and Momo looked at the two, then back at each other. ¡°Sure.¡± James said. ¡°So, you two¡­ no remorse for running a secret prison full of children?¡± He asked. ¡±They¡¯re dangerous! They need to learn control, or their miracles could hurt people!¡± Momo caught something James had almost let slip by, perking up instantly. ¡°Ooh! Let¡¯s steal the cells!¡± She said happily. ¡°Cause that implies there¡¯s some kind of antimagic field going on, and I want it.¡± She rubbed her hands together like a raccoon that was preparing a heist. That got a sigh from him, but James couldn¡¯t really argue with the logic. ¡±Sure. Go get the others open, I¡¯m going to watch these two assholes.¡± James wanted to take a week long nap, but he ground down the yawn that threatened to escape, and folded his arms sternly instead. ¡°Everyone in the back, feel free to come out! I don¡¯t bite!¡± He looked over toward the cluster of apparently human teenagers that were watching him suspiciously. ¡°Everyone okay?¡± He asked more softly. They¡­ weren¡¯t. They were a lot of things, but okay wasn¡¯t one of them. Half of them looked like they were planning to break past him for the front door, or maybe making plans to settle for the side door if they could find a way to cut the heavy metal chain that was holding it shut. Some of the dozen teenagers looked at him like he was a monster, while some were eying the guards like the two injured men were in need of being finished off. All of them were dressed mostly the same. Some kind of thin white uniform that looked like it was stained and ripped on half the people who wore it, different styles for the guys and the girls. So they¡¯d had their stuff taken as well as their dignity and freedom. Great. A young woman was the first one to find her voice, and the first thing she asked was if she was going to be sent back to her family. A few others tensed up, and James didn¡¯t need any of his various social skill ranks to know this was a loaded question. ¡±Only if you want to.¡± He told her flatly. ¡°Frankly, I¡¯m inclined to flatly say no, considering from what I understand, your families are the reason you got stuck in here. But if you want to¡­ yeah, you can go back. For anyone who doesn¡¯t, we¡¯re getting something set up, and you¡¯ll be welcome to our hospitality for as long as you need it.¡± That clearly relaxed them, to a degree that made him almost sick. James didn¡¯t have a lot of experience interacting with mistreated human children, but he did spend a good chunk of his life lately helping rescued ratroaches. And when it was so easy to draw a clear line between those victims, and these victims, it made him want to start hitting things. He couldn¡¯t hit the Akashic Sewer. Yet. But this was something that was the domain of people. Humans who had looked at abuse and violence as tools to control their objectified kids. And James could hit them. Hopefully hard enough to send them into orbit where they could be someone else¡¯s problem. ¡±Your parents will be worri-¡° one of the guards started to say, before James casually turned and kicked his boot into the decayed wood panels of the wall the man was sitting against, right next to the speaker¡¯s head. James leaned down, bracing himself on his thigh as he cocked his leg that was now partly buried in the wall he¡¯d just splintered inward, and met the guard¡¯s wide eyes with his own narrow glare. ¡°Silence.¡± He ordered, before yanking his foot out and dusting off his pant leg. He wasn¡¯t actually going to hurt either of them, but the desire to do so was building. And he was angry enough that it had felt too easy to just break something in frustration. So he turned away and back to the cluster of teens and young adults and one kid who looked like he was maybe ten, and addressed them instead. ¡°Now. Momo¡¯s getting everyone else out, and we¡¯ve got some people coming in to get you guys out of here. Maybe get some real food. Is anyone hungry?¡± Slow nods in response, people who weren¡¯t sure if they could trust him or were allowed to talk. ¡°Alright.¡± James tried not to sigh again. ¡°Does anyone have any questions real quick?¡± ¡±Are you a superhero?¡± The youngest boy¡¯s quiet voice was hard to hear over the sound of Momo doing something unpleasant to one of the locked metal cell doors. James laughed, which seemed to put a few of the older kids on edge, so he stopped. ¡°I¡¯m working on it.¡± He admitted. ¡°But I am here to save the day, so, let¡¯s go with yes for now.¡± ¡±Probably a demon in disguise.¡± One of the guards shouted. It was getting to be a little much for James to put up with. But instead of anger, he found himself just feeling exhausted. He half turned to look at the man, who flinched back, before shaking his head and ignoring the comment. ¡°Anyway.¡± He said out loud. ¡°As a heads up to everyone, we¡¯re gonna have some people coming in here shortly. They¡¯re good people, I¡¯m just letting you know so you don¡¯t panic. Now, is there anything I need to know?¡± He looked at the cluster of young faces; some of them watching him, some of them looking past him to the men on the ground like they were waiting for James to turn his back so they could start stabbing. ¡±There¡¯s more like them.¡± One older boy spat out. ¡°They¡­ they come by every few days to test people.¡± ¡±Test for what?¡± James asked, rapidly but keeping his voice schooled. ¡°For¡­ for if we¡¯re reformed.¡± Another girl twitched when James looked her way. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be¡­¡± ¡±They want us-¡° ¡±They don¡¯t let us-¡° Half the kids started talking at once as James tried to hold up his hands and get them to quiet down and talk one at a time. It was the kind of process that got more confusing when one by one Momo pointed the people she was continuing to rescue out of their cells and over to the growing group. But James eventually got something of a complete picture. It required him borrowing some duct tape from Momo so he could silence his two prisoners, but he got there. These kids, every one of them, had spell slots, and had been pushed to use certain self-manipulation magics. And many of them had either done so too much, or badly, and it had caused them to become¡­ Well, either ¡®erratic¡¯, or ¡®ungodly¡¯, depending on who was talking. It took James about two minutes to realize that their erratic behaviors were the result of them being forced to give themselves convictions that sounded like the kind of things you would hear in a sermon, and then actually following through on those convictions. That wasn¡¯t the only reason, but it was a dominant one. They were¡­ They were just kids. Kids that were becoming harder for their parents and church elders to control. And because they were all mages, and the people who had put them in this program in the first place wanted complete control over them, the reaction to them slipping the leash even a little bit had led to a disproportionate crackdown on their freedom. Lock them in antimagic boxes, browbeat them into submission, force them to behave. ¡°Okay. Show of hands. Does anyone here have any spells slotted? Eh¡­ equipped, or bound, or¡­¡± James didn¡¯t know what term they used, it hadn¡¯t come up. But what did come up were a handful of hands, and at least three people who weren¡¯t going to say but James could tell were hiding the fact that they did have their own. ¡°Alright. Don¡¯t worry, we don¡¯t care. I just wanted to know so there¡¯s no surprises. Like-¡° ¡±James?!¡± A young woman¡¯s voice surprised him. Not Momo, who James saw gleefully running by in the other room as she applied some kind of enchanted bolt cutters to one of the locks with a manic cackle. But someone who he recognized from a few short encounters a while back. ¡°Why are you here?!¡± ¡±Hi Emma. Ah, and Liam, good, you¡¯re both here.¡± James nodded at the two, who stared at him a little more openly than the others. ¡°Frankly, I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re surprised. Who else were you expecting, Lincon?¡± He saw their faces, and despite not having Alanna¡¯s Empathy power, it was comically easy to read the two young people. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s around. Doing a little better. We can talk more later.¡± James was interrupted by the old abandoned building¡¯s front door opening. The group of teenagers, some of them clustered together, some having taking what seats were left just to get off their feet, some trying to be cool or antisocial or both by leaning on the walls farther away from James, all universally snapped around to watch just in case someone on the side of their jailers came in. But before anyone entered the main space, an energetic man¡¯s reedy voice called out. ¡°Delivery! We¡¯ve got rides out of here, fruit snacks, and bad jokes!¡± It had been a while since James had worked with Max. Actually, only once maybe, that he could remember. He liked the guy, and not just because he had solidarity in the same long hair style that James did; Max was always just excited for stuff, in an infectious way. And as he made his way into the building, his called entrance instantly put people at ease. He was a great choice from Recovery for the person to answer James¡¯ call for help for this situation. ¡°Hey Max.¡± James called. ¡°Oh, shit, I forgot. Is everyone in your group human?¡± ¡±Nope! That an issue?¡± James turned back to the group of rescues as the last few filtered in from the other room, the newer ones keeping their distance as Momo got to work on the last door which had been chained shut a lot more thoroughly. ¡°Hey, everyone, if I could get your attention?¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Hi. I didn¡¯t officially introduce myself. My name is James, I¡¯m a paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms. Our people aren¡¯t all human, but I swear, we¡¯re all here to help you, okay? Is that going to be a problem for anyone?¡± ¡±Are they¡­ demons?¡± The young kid asked tentatively. ¡±Not to my knowledge.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust answered, slithering into the room like she owned the place. ¡°If I am, I am not being paid properly for it. Ah, James, good. Have you been notified? We cannot steal the structure, nor level it. It is integrated with the surrounding buildings.¡± James wrapped a hand around his face, pressing fingers to either side of his eyes as he marveled at how impatient even the most mature camracondas were sometimes. ¡°Hi Barkdust. Everyone, this is Texture-Of-Barkdust. She has fruit snacks and bad timing, I guess.¡± ¡±Hello.¡± ¡±Are you a robot?!¡± Someone excitedly called out. ¡±No. I am partially organic and am not programmed.¡± Texture-Of-Barkdust patiently replied. ¡°My voice is artificial as I do not have a natural one.¡± She explained as Max and a couple other human Recovery knights filtered into the room and started checking on everyone personally. ¡°Now. Who wishes to leave? We have teleporters, but they are not interesting.¡± For some of the kids, the obvious fear of a camraconda was snuffed out instantly by the offer of escape. They were all lurking in the cleared out front space of this broken down building, but it was mostly because they didn¡¯t know where to go otherwise. But the chance of leaving, now? That was enough to get them moving. Clamoring, even. A status that Texture-Of-Barkdust disproved of, which led to James¡¯ favorite small interaction of the day; a camraconda taking a stern matronly tone to unruly human teens. ¡°Oh, hey.¡± James caught Max¡¯s attention and pulled the knight aside for a quiet conversation. ¡°If it¡¯s possible, you should get them out of here without telepads.¡± He said quickly. ¡±Why? Wait, no, I can guess. Is it something worryingly authoritarian?¡± Max laughed humorlessly. James nodded. ¡°Lincon had a thing where he couldn¡¯t leave the region, and telepads count, even if you¡¯re going inside the area. Sorry, I completely forgot about this up until right now. We can test it to see if these kids have the same effect on them, but it hurt like hell at the time, so maybe stick them in a hotel or something for a day?¡± ¡±Can do boss.¡± Max gave a British style salute and turned to saunter back to the group, sending updated instructions via skulljack link to the other Recovery knights in the building and rapidly assigning people to get room reservations and rides. James let Max and Barkdust work that out. While they got the kids sorted out, he turned to the two people who¡¯d tried to murder him. ¡°Alright. Listen up.¡± He said quietly, kneeling near them. ¡°We¡¯re out of here. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be on the phone as soon as I¡¯m gone, so I¡¯ve got a message for you to pass on. This? All of this? It stops. Now. I¡¯m gonna leave a number on your phones, and if your little operation wants to make contact with us and talk things out, we are willing to do so. But this? Secret unnoticeable prisons? Stop. Or next time you might not get someone as nice as me.¡° He met one of their glares, and added, ¡°Or, even worse, you¡¯ll just get me again, but I¡¯ll be angry.¡± He fished around in their pockets, despite their duct tape muffled protests, and got both their phones. Adding an Order contact number to their contacts list was technically what he was doing, but also he casually made use of their data plan to visit a web server that the rogues had set up, which automatically installed a lot of spyware on the devices. He also intentionally gave the two back the wrong phones just out of petty spite. ¡±Hey oh glorious leader.¡± Max approached James with a false smile that even James couldn¡¯t see the edges of properly; expressed casual happiness kept in place for the benefit of their new charges. ¡°We¡¯re ready to start moving people out. We¡¯re just using cabs, which seems anonymous enough to be safe for now. None of these poor guys want to see their parents again, but we¡¯re gonna work on getting contact so we can keep people informed later. Technically this is kidnapping I guess? So I¡¯m telling you, so you¡¯re part of the conspiracy!¡± ¡±Ugh. Don¡¯t say conspiracy.¡± James groaned. ¡°Also I think Momo has one more prisoner to get out of here?¡± He looked over to the other room where Momo had taken a few steps back and decided to employ a judicious amount of thermite to her latest problem, molten metal dripping to the floor in a shower of sparks. When the process was done, she used her crowbar to lever the door open without touching it. And then, said something that made James blood go cold. ¡±Oh! Hey Camille.¡± ¡°Shit.¡± James barked out, on his feet and sprinting for the other room with a burst of speed that drew attention rapidly. He grabbed the discarded knife off the table as he passed, flinging himself over a brass bar that once marked where a line formed for a buffet, and closing in on Momo. He wasn¡¯t quite fast enough. Maybe if Momo hadn¡¯t said anything, maybe if these assholes hadn¡¯t imprisoned her, maybe if the Necessary Evil hadn¡¯t been fucking around, maybe a lot of things would have changed how this Camille reacted. But right now, all she saw was someone who seemed to know who she was, cracking open the door to a cell that even she couldn¡¯t break out of. And she reacted, predictably, violently. A hand snapped around Momo¡¯s neck, and flung her sideways like a ragdoll. Whatever Momo had set her shield bracers to, James felt an internal burst of relief as a webbed dome of light stopped her from slamming into a sharp edge, but she still sprawled onto her side with a squeal of pain as she landed. And whichever color Camille this was, she didn¡¯t waste any time lunging forward with precise footwork to finish the job. Whoever had put her here had taken her armor, but she still moved like a fighter, grabbing the solid odd colored metal door to her cell and whipping it at James as he moved to intercept her. He got his own bracer set to door just in time to stop it dead, but when the light faded, she was in his face and swinging a fist hard enough to shatter bones. He didn¡¯t bother blocking, instead using the tip of the blade and as much strength as he could put into his arms to try to punch a hole in her wrist and send the blow off course. He got half of that done; her skin just didn¡¯t yield to the blow. ¡±Get the kids out!¡± He shouted as the panicked group behind him started to cry and yell. The momentary distraction almost got him killed, as this Camille moved faster than James could keep up with, sweeping a leg out from under him with a kick that almost popped his knee out of its socket. He tried to use a charge of Move Person on her, but forgot that Camille¡¯s were somehow able to resist being shifted spatially, and while he teetered backward she slugged him in the chest with an uppercut hard enough that it lifted him off the ground and sent him flying backward. James landed on the opposite side of the wall his temporary prisoners were sitting against, rotten wood cratering around his back as he felt his bones protest and the stitches in his side rupture. Every molecule of air left his lungs in a wet wheeze as the furious daughter of the Last Line of Defense strode toward him with a furious look on her face. ¡±I am Camille the Ochre.¡± She declared. ¡°And you are-¡± ¡±Shut up!¡± One of the girls they¡¯d pulled out of the cells screamed in a voice that was half crying already. James was over being surprised, mostly because he was pretty sure having a concussion made complex emotions like that too difficult. But he still managed to feel a little bit of confusion as Cam¡¯s mouth kept moving, but no sound came out. Then one camraconda and a dozen other young wizards nailed her with a look and a dozen different spells, and James entirely lost track of what came from where as Camille slowed to a crawl, sunk two feet into the floor, dropped her left arm like she didn¡¯t have control of it anymore, grew about four feet of hair, started swinging wildly at something invisible around her head, had her clothing shredded away like it was in a blender, got part of her arm stuck to her chest in a way that made it look like she was melting into herself, and then just dropped unconscious and fell forward with a splat that came either from the floor being part quicksand or her body being part gummy bear now. ¡°Ffffff¡­¡° Momo, crawling on her hands and knees, struggled to stand up behind where the Camille had fallen. ¡°F-fuck yeah!¡± She coughed out, wiping blood off the corner of her mouth as she did so. ¡°That was awesome! I want all of those!¡± She declared, trying to give a cocky pose as she slipped the thermite lance she was carrying back into the concealed pocket of her jacket. ¡°Oh shit, James!¡± She tried to rush over to check on him, and got stuck on the melted floor. ¡°Oh shit, me!¡± ¡±Max, get Momo out, then leave with our guests.¡± James croaked out. ¡±Are you okay?!¡± Max demanded, kneeling down to check James. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding!¡± ¡±It¡¯s fine, I have an orb for this back at the house.¡± James sighed, which turned into a pained cough. The injury wouldn¡¯t be enough to stop him. Maybe not even slow him down. Endurance at his level was making him feel maybe a little harder to kill than was healthy, but it wasn¡¯t doing much to make him ignore the pain. ¡°Go. And send someone to the safehouse to pick up Lincon later, okay?¡± ¡±Got it.¡± Max nodded, long hair shifting around his neck. He looked at James for a second, then tilted his head to look behind the paladin. ¡°Ah, fuck man, your¡­¡± he tapped his own neck. James felt behind himself, to where his skulljack braid had been smashed by the impact. ¡°Oh come on, this is even one of the hardened ones.¡± He tried to complain without his voice hurting. ¡°What message did I miss?¡± He asked. Max pulled out his own braid and handed it to James. ¡°Don¡¯t mess with my settings.¡± He said with a grin. ¡°And I probably don¡¯t have half the programs you do, but¡­ hey, it¡¯s better than nothing, right?¡± ¡±No, no. Keep it. I¡¯ve got a phone.¡± James sighed as he pushed the offered tech away. ¡°Was there something urgent?¡± ¡±Yeah, Anesh said you needed to see something. And there¡¯s one of the shield teams actually coming down now.¡± Max looked uncomfortable. ¡°We¡¯re not going to war, are we?¡± ¡±Probably not. Odds are good it¡¯s for these guys.¡± James said, leaving the fact that ¡®these guys¡¯ included a Camille unspoken. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re Recovery, you don¡¯t have to fight a war anyway.¡± ¡±I would though!¡± Max stood back up, offering James a hand to haul him to his feet. ¡°Need a telepad?¡± ¡±No, I always carry five of the things at this point.¡± James had learned his lesson the hard way. ¡°Okay. Get everyone safe. And¡­ then come back for her if they need you too.¡± He jerked a thumb at the still-living but clearly messed up Camille. ¡°Nate will know what to do. Actually, just call Nate and make him handle it if he isn¡¯t already. He seems like he¡¯s always handling stuff when I¡¯m not looking.¡± ¡±Got it.¡± Behind them, the group of kids were carefully ushered out of the building and into the first daylight some of them had seen in months, blinking and crying at the sensation. Texture-Of-Barkdust brought up the rear, seeming already exasperated with the presence of any human under the age of forty. ¡°Good luck, paladin.¡± James nodded slowly, letting his enhancements work their literal magic putting his body back into better working order. ¡±Thanks. Now stop being dramatic and leave.¡± He ordered, sending Max and the last few knights on their way with the remainder of the kids as he fell into step beside Momo, the two of them taking the time to zip tie the hands of the guards before leaving them with the partly melted Camille, and walking for the door. ¡±This was fun.¡± Momo grunted, rubbing her throat. ¡°We should hang out more. Oh! Should we do something about that Cam? I know you¡¯re into that.¡± ¡±¡­Into¡­ what?¡± James had burned every erg of his social battery, and didn¡¯t have the brainpower for this. ¡±Into turning people who can snap you in half into woobies.¡± Momo said, glancing back into the restaurant. ¡°Hey, Miss Beige! Stop trying to get up, you¡¯ll hurt yourself!¡± She shook her head as the melting body of Cam struggled to their feet and almost ripped herself in half trying to get out of the quicksand wood floor. ¡°What is wrong with these people? I mean, I know, don¡¯t get me wrong, I know. But¡­¡± James shook his head and partly dragged Momo out of the restaurant. ¡°Ochre is a yellow color, first of all. But also¡­ just let her do her thing. I doubt she¡¯s gonna listen, and she¡¯s dangerous to be around, so let Nate and everyone else handle it. You okay?¡± He asked. ¡±No.¡± Momo said with a breaking cheerful smile. A quick glance showed James that she was actually crying, silent tears leaking out of her eyes as they walked. ¡°Nope. Not really. That hurt, and also I¡¯m panicking at how often we fight stuff like that and never find out how hard they can hit and I¡¯m sorta wondering how long until I die in a dungeon fight. And my throat hurts now, too! But if I keep talking, then it can¡¯t catch up to me, and I¡¯ll be fine. Some of my totems worked on both those assholes, by the way; the pillar has two birthdays somehow, and Camille was born two years ago. In case you wanted to know even more concerning information. So hey!¡± She said, clapping her hands as they emerged into normal daylight and the sound of passing cars and a bus full of ten year olds getting treated to ice cream after what James assumed was a baseball game. ¡°What¡¯s next on the agenda? Cause you also look like hell, and I bet you wanna do something stupid about it!¡± Momo elbowed James in the side, mercifully the one that didn¡¯t have a reopened stab wound in it. ¡±Please be careful.¡± He said, gently maneuvering her elbow away from his person. ¡°And I need to make a phone call.¡± If his life had ever been surreal, it was in this moment. Standing in front of a building that wanted you to forget about it, where he¡¯d just talked to some kind of weird and dangerous magical avatar of bad metaphors and cruelty, and broken twenty mostly human kids out of church jail, just making a phone call to his boyfriend in broad daylight. The phone rang exactly once before Anesh answered. ¡°Good afternoon, you nonce.¡± He opened with. ¡±I love you too?¡± Anesh sounded displeased as he replied, and James couldn¡¯t even blame a bad connection on mishearing. ¡°We¡¯re going to talk later.¡± He said, forcing his voice to stay even. ¡°About why you think it¡¯s okay to send me away while you go try to throw your life away. But right now, I could use your help.¡± ¡±In my defense, I didn¡¯t want you-¡° ¡±James.¡± Anesh sounded put out, but with a tinge of amusement. Just a tinge, though. ¡°Later. Lincon showed us the dungeon. And¡­¡± he trailed off. James sighed and looked over at Momo. ¡°Is the problem time sensitive?¡± He asked with the gnawing sense that he already knew the answer. ¡±Of course it is.¡± Anesh said, before admitting, ¡°It actually may not be a problem, exactly. Um¡­ depending.¡± ¡±Anesh, I¡¯m reminding you that I actually do love you. But also it feels like we¡¯re both getting practice at irritating each other today.¡± James said it with a playful smile, and was gratified to hear Anesh chuckle on the other end of the call. His boyfriend took a second before replying. ¡°Alright. They¡¯re sending people in.¡± He paused before clarifying, not waiting for James to explain that this sentence was wholly unhelpful. ¡°There¡¯s a group of people here,¡± Ah, that was why Anesh was speaking so softly, ¡°they have, oh, about two hundred normal people? And they¡¯re sending them into the dungeon in groups. With guards.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± James said, rubbing his face. ¡°Oh. I see.¡± This was the other side of things. Probably. The side he¡¯d just agreed not to interfere with. Of course, he¡¯d break that promise in a heartbeat if there was something nefarious going on. ¡°What¡¯s up with the people, how does it all look?¡± ¡±Well I¡¯m hardly staring at them.¡± Anesh hissed in a hushed voice. ¡°But they seem¡­ half asleep?¡± ¡±Great.¡± James sighed. ¡°Momo and I are on the way. I just need to pick something up from the house first. Message me a telepad address.¡± He hung up, and sighed, just in time to see Momo¡¯s face slowly inching up in his field of vision as she crept up on him. ¡°Sooooooo?¡± She asked. ¡°Something stuuuuupid?¡± ¡±If we survive this, I¡¯m gonna personally escort you to your therapist appointments.¡± James grumbled at her. ¡±Hah! As if mere therapy could solve the complex web of bullshit that is me!¡± Momo cocked an arm out, hand on the undamaged part of her hip, grinning wildly. ¡°But seriously, what¡¯re we off to next?¡± James stared at her with something between worry and creeping dread, before shaking his head. This would have to be tomorrow¡¯s problem. Right now, Anesh needed him for something. ¡±Magic medical attention, then dungeon.¡± He told her, and got a fist pump in response. ¡°But don¡¯t look so smug about it.¡± He added the last part mostly because he was jealous that he didn¡¯t get to look smug about it. But despite the injuries, the fatigue, the lack of sleep, the existential threats and the present danger¡­ There wasn¡¯t really a time when James felt more thrumming excitement in his chest than when he was walking toward the door of a brand new dungeon. Well, brand new to him. But he was definitely sending Lincon away before they went in, just for safety. And so he didn¡¯t get any surprises ruined. Chapter 294 ¡°All systems nominal.¡± -Mechwarrior- _____ [+.1 Skill Ranks : Athletics - Pole Vaulting - Olympic Rules] [Problem Solved : Restocked Toothpaste] [+.1 Skill Ranks : Repair - Ceramics - Kintsugi] [Problem Solved : Medical Attention] James, newly refreshed by the phantom sensation of having been laying on an emergency room gurney for a few hours, and the less phantom sensation of some kind of helpful painkiller to go with his wound being stitched up, landed on the shaded sidewalk between a department store and a parking garage. The fact that teleporting was working for him again said something about the magic that had locked him in place when he¡¯d encountered Lincon, but he didn¡¯t know what. Maybe it was temporary, or it required upkeep, or there was a condition for breaking the curse. Whatever it was, neither James nor anyone else in their group could safely plan around being able to teleport, but if it was going to be an option, he wasn¡¯t going to take the bus just out of spite. Momo let go of his hand as soon as their teleport dropped them back into reality, stretching and stepping away from him, letting him get out of range of the personal red totems she had tightly contained in capsules hidden in her coat. It was a bit weird to abruptly not know what street they were on, where the nearest publicly employed emergency responder was, or how hungry every friend within half a block was. Knowing in the first place had made his head hurt, and James really worried what Momo was doing to herself carrying those around all the time. It gave her an obvious advantage in a lot of situations; that information could tell someone some very useful tangential things after all. But James was pretty sure those weren¡¯t the only totems in her cargo pants, and he didn¡¯t know what to say to make her stop. Momo had been a little reckless ever since James had met her, but it had always bordered on self destructive, and now he worried it had gotten a lot worse. ¡±Ooh. It¡¯s nice here in the shade.¡± Momo commented, enjoying the gust of marginally cooler air sweeping between the two multi-story buildings. The shade was provided by the concrete skybridges overhead and not anything as pleasant as trees, but it did still feel better than standing in direct sunlight. ¡°Hey.¡± She nodded at an elderly couple that were staring at where she and James had appeared from nowhere. ¡°This way. Don¡¯t be weird.¡± James wanted to lead her across the street to the parking garage where the others were waiting, but even on this rather leisurely afternoon, he still had to wait for two pickup trucks and a minivan that seemed to think pedestrian right of way was a suggestion. ¡°Everyone in a car is a threat to national security.¡± He grumbled to himself as he eventually just stepped out and got honked at, unwilling to waste more time here. With a cocky grin and another elbow in his side that James deflected, Momo followed along next to him. ¡°Don¡¯t you drive? You drive a lot! You do Horizon shit, and I know you do cause El complains about it!¡± ¡±First off,¡± James said as he swept his gaze around the mostly empty parking garage to find the stairs, so they could creep up to the fifth level of the monolithic temple to the automobile, ¡°when I¡¯m driving, I¡¯m also an idiot. That¡¯s how it works. That¡¯s why it¡¯s a problem.¡± ¡±Self-knowledge is the key to enlightenment.¡± Momo nodded sagely, without a hint of irony or self reflection in that statement. James gave her a side eye before continuing. ¡°Also El complains about me?¡± That hurt a little. He felt like that shouldn¡¯t hurt, but it kinda did. ¡±Eh.¡± Momo shrugged, causing a series of metal rattles from her coat. ¡°Not really. She just tries to make everything sound like a complaint even if she secretly loves them. Me. It. Loves it.¡± There was no way in hell James was going to touch that comment right now. He had stairs to climb, preferably without making too much noise. On the fourth floor, they found the stairs blocked by one of the most potent memetic defenses known to mankind. An orange and white wooden barricade, propped open and sitting on the bottom step, complete with a sign informing them that there had been a chemical spill. ¡±Huh.¡± James said as he took in the sight. ¡°I mean¡­ if that¡¯s all it takes¡­¡± ¡±If it¡¯s stupid and it works, it¡¯s not stupid?¡± Momo shrugged. They walked past it, which meant it wasn¡¯t working, which meant it was kind of stupid. This was the sort of thing that the Order of Endless Rooms needed to be on guard for. They weren¡¯t the only ones who were ¡®up to something¡¯. And sometimes people were just curious or contrary or clever, and you couldn¡¯t assume that a single sign would baffle everyone. Active defenses were important, intelligent actors were important. The Order¡¯s own intelligent actors were waiting as James turned the corner and got mildly startled at the armed and armored team that were arrayed around the stairs and elevator. ¡°Paladin! Stay low.¡± One of them called softly to him, the whole group of five moving with a kind of smooth unity as he and Momo joined them that James suspected meant they were on a limited skulljack link. The young man pointed them in a direction, and one of the shield team split off to lead him and Momo around to where everyone else was lurking in the shadow of a utility company van. ¡±Oh good, you¡¯re not dead!¡± Ink-And-Key greeted James as he approached, the camraconda flanking Rho as the two of them lurked alongside the others. Lincon was hanging back, shifting nervously as he hugged the side of a concrete pylon and looking like he wanted to talk to James but didn¡¯t want to speak up. ¡±Yet.¡± Anesh grumbled softly, turning from where he was sticking his head out around the back of the van. ¡°We¡¯ll see how Alanna and the rest of me are feeling when we get back.¡± ¡±Please don¡¯t¡­ kill him.¡± Arrush said, clearly feeling awkward about it. James gave the ratroach a soft smile, and opened his mouth to say something, when Arrush continued. ¡°Ch-counterintuitive. Punishment should be eh-embarrassing¡­¡± On the grungy concrete floor, Keeka curled back from where he was observing their prey from under the van to shoot James a cracked glowing grin, showing Arrush support for his plan. On Arrush¡¯s shoulders, Zhu gave him a supportive pat of equal agreement. James didn¡¯t want to get into interpersonal drama right now. ¡°What¡¯s the actual situation?¡± He asked. In response, Anesh just scooted back, and motioned for James to take a look over the hood of the van. Peeking up, legs only protesting a little bit at his crouch walk, James peered out over the flat part of this level of the garage. This area was away from the ramps, and a quick check behind them showed that someone had put up cones and caution tape to block it off too; drivers could take the ramp up or down past it, but not actually get in. Unless they just ran over some orange cones. But, oddly, the level was full of cars like the one they were hiding behind. Probably what all the people took to get here. Because ahead of them, there was a crowd of maybe twenty humans. Well, presumed humans. They all looked human, anyway. A lot of them were lined up and blankly staring at an elevator, silent bodies waiting for the doors covered in ¡®out of order¡¯ signs to open. There were only two people who looked like they were actively participating in the world, and they were also the only two who weren¡¯t lugging suitcases or backpacks. But instead of seeming like they were part of some kind of malicious cult, the two mid twenties men just looked bored, and a little impatient. At least, that was how it seemed from this distance. As James watched, the elevator doors slid open with a rough rumble, revealing what looked like a cargo lift inside. The two people who were alert seemed to sigh in relief, as one of them led the way in and the other started waving, prodding, pushing, and ordering the group to get moving and sort themselves into the cab. ¡°Okay. Lincon?¡± James was pretty sure he¡¯d agreed to not mess with this exact thing, but actually seeing this many people - adults and children, too - being moved around like blank faced cattle was disturbing. There was a pause as James looked back at Lincon, who was watching him expectantly, and James realized that his shorthand way of talking with his friends and close allies wasn¡¯t going to work on a teenager that needed explicit instructions. ¡°Lincon, what are we looking at here? Is that the dungeon entrance? Give me something to work with here.¡± ¡±I¡­ I don¡¯t know? I mean, yes, that¡¯s the door. Or one of the doors? But I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re doing! Are they kidnapping people?! Shouldn¡¯t we stop them!?¡± His voice rose, but it didn¡¯t seem to attract attention as the two humans that were awake enough to care seemed exhausted and busy with trying to fit twenty people in a big elevator car. James shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ likely that this is voluntary.¡± He said softly. ¡°I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re like this, though, and keeping low was a good call.¡± Anesh gave him a nod and a small smile at that, a little proud to have made a good choice. ¡°We don¡¯t want to spook them now. But I do want to have the whole picture of what¡¯s going on. Is there a limit on the door?¡± ¡±No, no it¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s the elevator, you know? You get in and it takes you to a dungeon.¡± Lincon licked his lips, looking at it almost longingly before glancing back to James. ¡°You¡¯ll know what button to hit I guess. It¡¯s always been¡­ uh¡­ ¡®open¡¯ every time we got to it. But no one ever uses it, cause it¡¯s out of order.¡± ¡±The ultimate defense!¡± Momo whispered gleefully. Anesh shuffled over to get closer. ¡°So, what do we do?¡± He asked. ¡°Just let them go?¡± ¡±I¡¯m okay with that.¡± James said. ¡°Give them some space, then follow them in? Trail them if we can, see what¡¯s going on. Otherwise, just try to pull some secrets out of the dungeon itself. Either way, the more we know, the better a position we can negotiate from when we make contact.¡± His human boyfriend gave him an agreeable nod. ¡°At least we have backup this time. Do we bring the shield team, or leave them to cover the entrance?¡± He shook his head rapidly before answering his own question. ¡°No, entrance, of course. There¡¯s more than enough of us for a safe first delve, isn¡¯t there? Though having Alanna around would make me feel better.¡± He and James shared a small chuckle, because of course it would. Momo raised her hand. ¡±We could also always call Max back?¡± She offered. ¡°Actually El might be into this too, if the dungeon is full of cars. Is it full of cars? I didn¡¯t get the details.¡± Lincon opened his mouth and said something none of them heard. ¡±Cool.¡± James enunciated the word as plainly as he could. ¡°Great. Love that.¡± The younger kid gave them a confused look. ¡°What, the-¡° he said something else. No one heard that either. ¡±Hey Zhu, can I borrow you for a second?¡± James said, linking warm and scratched up hands with Arrush to let the navigator flow back to him. ¡°Can you hear him?¡± James asked. Zhu rustled his smoothed out feathers as he situated himself on James, opening a few eyes across his shoulder. ¡°Of course I can-¡° Lincon said something else about the dungeon, and Zhu stopped talking. ¡°Oh.¡± He tightened his manifestation, giving the impression of someone pursing their lips but with his whole feathered body. ¡°That is¡­ very odd.¡± Behind them, the elevator doors closed, which sealed at least part of their plan in place. James acknowledged that they were alone with a glance, standing up to stretch and lean on a nearby low concrete barrier. ¡°Okay. So. We are gonna get Max back here briefly, but only to take Lincon home.¡± Lincon opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but James patiently held up a hand. ¡°You can¡¯t give us advice, so you¡¯re not a good guide, and you won¡¯t work well with us without practice. I know you know this dungeon, and I¡¯m not shutting you out, but my dude, come on. You haven¡¯t been eating or sleeping well, I¡¯m sure you feel like shit. I¡¯d like to send you off to meet up with your friends and get settled at the Lair, but until we figure out what¡¯s holding you here and shoot it, let¡¯s settle for sticking you back at the safehouse, okay?¡± ¡±But I can-¡° Lincon kept talking but the words didn¡¯t actually process. He searched James¡¯ face for signs of recognition, but even Zhu gave him a shrug, and he sighed. ¡°Wait, my friends¡­?¡± Momo gave him a thumbs up. ¡±Yeah, we got Emma and Liam out. If you¡¯re still friends, obviously. I remember being a teenager.¡± She stared wistfully off into the fairly short distance of the cramped parking garage. ¡±I don¡¯t.¡± Keeka offered. ¡°Which is good. It sounds awful.¡± ¡±It¡¯s mostly just being awkward and kinda horny and suffused with anxiety all the time.¡± Momo told him, eliciting a sputtering bright red blush from Lincon. ¡±Oh! Okay, I do then.¡± The ratroach gave her a glowing smile as he dusted off the bits of his black fur that had gotten tangled crawling under the van. ¡°Should we go now?¡± He asked, watching the elevator. Arrush settled arms around his smaller counterpart in an enveloping hug. ¡°Are you¡­ sure?¡± He asked. ¡±No!¡± Keeka happily admitted, before his voice turned more serious and he tipped his head up to tap the point of his triangular muzzle against Arrush¡¯s. ¡°But I am here, and I can help. And you are going, so I am too.¡± And that was that. A simple statement, but one Keeka found critically important to say out loud, just in case anyone had forgotten. Preparation came quickly after that. James quickly checked in with the shield team, and had them fall back to cover the dungeon entrance with orders to politely inform anyone who came out what was going on without detaining them. He was actually really impressed with the level of professionalism they had going on, and said so, which had gotten an awkwardly proud reaction from the leader he¡¯d been talking to. The crack showing they were still people, not actually reforged into military machines by Nate and his kinda dramatic training plan. Meanwhile, the same Recovery knight from earlier blipped in to swap them a suitcase full of armor for Lincon. The teenager barely taking the time to say goodbye before they left in a mundane fashion to return to the safehouse, and from there to meet with his rescued friends; though not his family, as they were still among the missing and James suspected somewhere in this very dungeon. Before he left, he cast one of the last spells he had, summoning a sturdy grey steel longsword in a puff of vapor and handing it off to James. A show of trust, or of gratitude maybe. He didn¡¯t say, just quietly waved as he left with Max. James had no fucking idea what to do with a sword like this, though, so he gave it to Arrush, who apparently did somehow comfortably know how to use it. He and Anesh helped each other strap on the armor plates with calm hands, his boyfriend being gentle with James¡¯ injury and giving a worried tsk but no other comment. Then they moved on to helping the others, especially Rho, get their own armor on. Equipment was repositioned, weapons were checked. The quiet before something dangerous took over, but James felt completely comfortable even though he could see Anesh nervously fidgeting and Ink-And-Key anxiously flicking himself into loops. James, though? He felt at ease. This was nothing. In the last few days, he¡¯d been stabbed, pecked, clawed, and punched across a room. He¡¯d spied on a conspiracy and talked to a pillar. He¡¯d gone through having his memory altered and survived slotting a spell that had painfully detached itself from his magic. He¡¯d learned way too much about the geography of North Smiths, and learned exactly as much as he wanted to about Arrush¡¯s driving abilities. This was easy in comparison. All he had to do was go on a delve? In a new dungeon, that had one of the Horizon-style baffle effects on talking about it? Walking in through the front door? Well, elevator. But still. This was nothing. This was fun. This was his hobby. James would have done this for free. James would have paid to do this. Though when he¡¯d made that joke Anesh had helpfully offered up that he had paid for it, if not with money. James and Anesh bantered for a while, leaning on each other as they waited. They were giving the people below a good fifteen minutes before they went down in the dungeon elevator, so they had some time to relax into each other. Anesh, his worries for his partner slowly fading, had started to talk about what he¡¯d been working on lately. Authority testing and poking around with the weird items from Winter¡¯s Climb and a little bit of potion stuff. James had shared his amusement at the presence of a league of gentlemen thieves in the city. They¡¯d both agreed they had picked the right tasks for themselves, since neither wanted to do what the other was working on. A few times, they¡¯d fallen silent and just smiled or kissed lightly, enjoying being together for a bit. James and Anesh were good friends. They had been since the start, and it was gratifying to be reminded that despite distractions and devastations, that hadn¡¯t faded. If anything, it was only stronger now that they could spend time like this. And then it was time. The tentative countdown expired, they weren¡¯t in peril from anyone encroaching, and the people they were hoping to trail after hadn¡¯t come back up. It was practically cathartic, to be doing this thing mostly for the sake of exploration and meeting someone new, and not fighting some petty tyranny. Though there was always the chance. They were planning to gather information, and it turned out a lot of people were petty tyrants in the making. Or at least, that was the impression James was getting from this whole fucking adventure. The elevator made a dull ding as it arrived, doors protesting as they rolled open. Inside was a space that James personally felt like the delvers should have at least tried to clean; a grit covered floor and the smell of car exhaust making it feel identical to every other parking structure elevator he¡¯d ever been in in his life. Maybe that was the point; camouflage. The others filed inside, Keeka ending up in the middle of Arrush, Rho, and Ink-And-Key, the three of them an unofficial honor guard for the group¡¯s designate cinnamon roll. And Momo was already checking out the panel of buttons before Anesh had brought up the rear of their group. ¡±This one, right? Like, obviously.¡± She pointed to the one button that was unmarked. It even had one of those little metal braille pads next to it, but with nothing on it. What was odd was, there were just other buttons, like it was a normal elevator. James leaned past Momo and hit the one for the ground floor. ¡°Hey!¡± She protested. Nothing happened. The elevator didn¡¯t move. ¡°Okay. Out of order becomes a much better disguise when the elevator is out of order.¡± He nodded in appreciation. ¡°Hit the button.¡± As Momo complied, James and Anesh took up kneeling spots near the door, making sure everyone else was back and partly out of sight for when the doors opened. Anesh had one of the p90 rifles that was the only firearm he was really comfortable with, while James drew his own revolver. ¡°Do I get a gun?¡± Zhu asked. ¡±I¡­ hadn¡¯t really thought about that. Sure. We can get you a gun.¡± James acquiesced. ¡°But later. Did you ask this before? Did I forget?¡± ¡°I asked Alanna. She said I would be a menace to myself and others but mostly others.¡± Zhu said it proudly, life creeping back into his words as he more fully woke up. ¡°Also this ride is long.¡± Coming from anyone else, the comment would be idle chatter. Coming from Zhu, or any navigator really, it was something a bit different. It was a signal that the elevator¡¯s motion was taking them somewhere else. Down and down and down and down. The sensation of dropping quickly leveling off, though not before there were panicked hisses and chitteres from a couple of the box¡¯s residents. And then just the light sensation of motion. The occasional bump, the sound of metal squealing outside, and a quiet hiss of air through the doors. Anticipation built. No one spoke, even Momo. It wasn¡¯t the time for that. A new dungeon, even ¡®new¡¯ in the sense that they were following other humans into it so it clearly had been discovered before, was still cause for a little bit of weight. Especially for James. When James had first stepped foot in Officium Mundi, before he¡¯d known that was what Sarah called it, before he¡¯d gone far enough in to see the ink seas and the carpet plains, before he¡¯d climbed through the smallest scratch of its many layers, he had already seen what he needed to see. It was cubicles. Reaching away forever. Something utterly mundane, and yet replicated, stacked, extrapolated, and stretched out to such a distance that it felt like staring at infinity even if that was just a strange optical distortion. There were a lot of things James had needed in his life then. Purpose, certainly, but also more casually simple things. Money. Antidepressants. The death of capitalism. The basics. But the need that Officium Mundi had filled without knowing or caring about him was the deep longing for something, anything, fantastical. All it took was cubicles. Six other dungeons later, and Officium Mundi still held in James¡¯ heart the position of the most overwhelming. Walking into the Climb was like being slapped with a blizzard and told to deal with it, being dumped into the Underburbs had been a hellish struggle for survival every second of his time there, driving through the Horizon was like experiencing the most open road ever. But even when they had the same scale, it never really hit him quite the same way. Even the Ceaseless Stacks, with its winding endless corridors of bookshelves and back staircases, while it was amazing to explore it never showed off just how big it was. The other dungeons were all different somehow. Too narrow in the wrong way, too broad in another. He loved the dungeons. He loved the discovery and novelty. He loved the magic and the power they gave him to better the world and its people, even if he still couldn¡¯t just wave his hand and fix everything. But he had given up on having the same transcendental experience as when he first stepped into Officium Mundi. And then the elevator doors opened. Squeaking in tired protest at not being properly maintained, the elevator car still wobbling slightly as it came to a complete stop, the smell of sweat and gasoline fumes everywhere in the air, a perfectly ordinary experience for the lift in a parking garage. Outside, there were cars. Smooth concrete, yellow and black caution strips on some corners, grey pillars, speed bumps, hanging signs. Normal. Almost like they really had just gone down a few levels. Except. It just. Kept. Going. James and Anesh, priding themselves on their teamwork after all this time, moved out of the elevator before it closed and swept each side of the entrance for threats. But James was having a hard time paying attention, as he was more focused on how the ramp leading down to their left seemed to go on, and on, and on. And on. And on. He did some quick math, and gave up counting after two hundred cars, all parked mostly neatly in their spaces. Zhu had to draw an artificial horizon across his vision so he could see without his eyes watering. On Anesh¡¯s side, it wasn¡¯t much simpler. There was a chest high rough wall, a different color than the rest of the building; white stone material speckled with something that sparkled. The exterior wall of the parking garage, which, naturally, looked out over a fifty foot drop to what seemed to be a massive flat parking lot. More cars, more grey stone, the only color that wasn¡¯t the vehicles coming in the occasional splash from a sign or a warning cone. That parking lot stretched for half a kilometer, if his mental math was right. And it usually was. And it had ramps in it. Ramps leading down. Down to more parking, to more¡­ more of this. And at the other side, there was another structure, maybe a copy of the one they were in, rising up to a concrete ceiling. ¡°Holy shit.¡± James breathed out, lowering his gun as he slowly took in the ramp down, the view out the side, the whole level they were on that itself was large enough to contain every part of the Lair twice over assuming you could find the parking for it. ¡°¡­Holy shit¡­¡± his voice felt small in the flat, smoggy air. Just cars and concrete. Going on forever. Far enough that even from the entrance, they could see where the scenery started to turn to something odd. Not sinister, just a little bit strange. The mundane, replicated so far that it became the mystic. James felt his heart pounding, a feeling swelling in his chest. The sensation that he¡¯d been missing. This was the kind of bullshit he needed. ¡±Yeechk.¡± Momo ruined his moment. ¡°Smells like a semi truck farted in here.¡± ¡±Ssh.¡± Arrush gently pressed a claw against her mouth, pulling back when Momo started thrashing around lest he accidentally hurt her. ¡°We are appreciating¡­ this¡­¡± Arrush didn¡¯t see the world the same way the humans did. He knew it, even if he knew he could change. But to him, and to Keeka as well, places like parking structures already looked like this. Too big, too much, but with so many useful points to hide or ambush from. Even the ¡®small¡¯ city of Townton, devastated as most of it still was, had single buildings that could have contained all of his home dungeon from back at the time of his birth. Humans built big. But dungeons - older dungeons - built bigger. They took ideas, aesthetics, imagery, and they scaled it up to absurd fractal art. Arrush¡¯s myriad mismatched eyes let him see some of the illusions at play in a way humans couldn¡¯t. But to him, this was something more. Every dungeon Arrush had willingly walked into, had been James reaching out to him. He hadn¡¯t even realized until recently the true extent of the damage that had been done to him, nor how important places like this had become as part of his recovery. He didn¡¯t know what he was recovering toward, even. Only that he liked it more than the alternative. Next to him, the other survivor of their shared horror linked reforged symmetrical arms with his own distorted ones. ¡°Everything is okay.¡± Keeka whispered to him, the chitin on one of his fingers smoking slightly as he wiped away a caustic tear before it could splash down on Arrush¡¯s armor. Arrush hadn¡¯t even noticed. But he leaned on Keeka anyway, drawing comfort and support even as he kept himself alert, eyes scanning the cracked and pitted concrete rectangles that formed the ceiling. Dungeons liked to exploit how often people didn¡¯t look up, and Arrush liked to foil those plans. It wasn¡¯t really a hobby, but it did make him feel a sense of cunning satisfaction every time it happened. After making sure that nothing was going to jump them from their left, James had moved back, trying to avoid getting distracted by the equally huge ramp leading up. Joining Anesh looking out over the ¡®exterior¡¯, he gave a small laugh, keeping back from the edge because of the intrinsic fear that he would somehow drop his phone and it would never come back from that. On his arm, Zhu excitedly rustled at the prospect of this whole place. Momo, meanwhile, was already checking cars, while Rho was cautiously circling the area and sniffing the air. ¡±This one¡­¡± Ink-And-Key mused, staying near the elevator as he swept his eye back and forth, ¡°this one is okay. Nothing has tried to kill us yet. I appreciate that. All the other ones, something tries to kill you right away.¡± ¡±That¡­¡± James stopped, biting his lip. ¡°That is¡­ only technically true.¡± He admitted. He had been assaulted by a stapler a long, long time ago as his first introduction. That was true. Now wasn¡¯t the time for this though, so he lightly clapped and got the group¡¯s attention before everyone got too introspective. ¡°Okay. Everyone on your guard. We know this place makes some really hostile life, so be alert. Rho, how¡¯s it smell?¡± The inhabitor made a sound that dogs were not meant to make, a kind of rueful coughing. ¡°I have never specifically disliked anything as much as I dislike this.¡± He said in his monotone unmasked voice. ¡°But I can follow them. They seem to move people this way often.¡± ¡±Good.¡± James nodded. ¡°If we¡¯re following them, we¡¯re less likely to be ambushed by anything hostile, but let¡¯s keep an eye out anyway. First priority is safety, then finding our friends, then exploration and collecting magic. Everyone cool with that?¡± Momo raised her hand. ¡°We could split up, and I could go find magic?¡± She offered. ¡±Request denied, and do you really even need me to explain why?¡± James set his mouth in a line as he shook his head at the self destructive girl. Momo made a show of kicking the floor, her sneaker squeaking against the smoothed surface, but didn¡¯t actually object, because of course she knew. And it had mostly been a joke anyway. ¡°Okay.¡± James smiled, and looked away from the group, his eyes stealing across endless brackets of parking spaces and metal pipes. In the distance, an engine rumbled, a sonorous roar from something that might be a new dragon to meet. ¡°We¡¯ve done this before.¡± He told them. ¡°Let¡¯s move out.¡± _____ James was used to things going wrong in a way that often ended with him getting hit in the head again.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He read a lot of stuff. Even as a paladin, trying to map out the edges of his honorable duty and figure out what the fuck he was supposed to be doing, he still had free time. And he used quite a bit of it to read both for fun and for information. One of those informative bits had been on the dangers of long term brain injury from repeated head trauma; a thing he had read while laying in bed, and then had turned off his phone, and stared at the ceiling without sleeping, wondering how much of the damage he¡¯d taken was irreversible. So he¡¯d been trying really hard to not get hit in the head so much. It was a work in progress, because he was still going delving and doing shit like this. Hell, earlier today, he¡¯d at least taken a slight bump from the Camille¡¯s strike. But James was putting effort into being a little more careful. Trying to make it so when things went wrong, at least his grey matter didn¡¯t pay the price. Right now, he felt like the finger on the monkey¡¯s paw was curling down. Because while he wasn¡¯t getting flung into concrete at high speed, he was experiencing a sense that there was a problem. Maybe the sensation wasn¡¯t that complicated. Maybe it was because he was being attacked by a traffic cone. In retrospect, perhaps James had learned exactly nothing from his history of being attacked by supposedly inanimate objects. The ambush had come when they were passing by a quartet of empty parking spaces, the rectangle of bare concrete blocked off by stubby knee-height orange traffic cones. The spaces were against the exterior of the structure, which the group was more or less sticking to as they hiked. It had been at least half a mile by this point, a straight line of endless cars and grey stone, and while there had been plenty of blank spaces, the traffic cones were new. James had been about to say something as they skirted the zone, just in case, when an orange cone caked with grime and stuck concealed between two SUVs on the other side of the open corridor had leapt at him. The black rubber flaps had shoved it up into the air like they were spring loaded, and, naturally, the whole thing had split along three long lines to reveal its insides were sticky flaps of barbed teeth. James had caught sight of it out of his peripheral vision, and felt like he¡¯d had enough time to start to react for an easy dodge, but Momo had other ideas. In that Momo had panicked, yelped, shoved her hands out in front of her overlaid on each other with fingers spread, and Paved the toothy cone with a spell that had shot it skittering away fifty feet through the cold air to slam into the side of an old Toyota. And then the car¡¯s alarm had started. And the rest of the cones had opened up, and launched themselves at the group with the sound of rubber slapping on the smooth grey floor. The fight went smoothly, though. Ink-And-Key froze the first one, and the other three lunging forward at a group that scattered with semi-practiced movements. One landed near Anesh, who planted a boot on it and leveled his rifle at the thing, but didn¡¯t fire; instead, he just held it down as it started to writhe with a fluid organic movement, trying to break out from under his pin. Arrush was less kind to his, slashing at it with a short blade as it moved by, and Zhu made a similarly hostile claw swipe at the one that landed past James. The cones bled some kind of rubbery ichor, which James looked forward to learning was actually blood, before learning that was wrong and it was ichor again. He knew the pattern at this point. Just like he knew the pattern of this fight. With only two of the cones really still mobile, the next time one sprang off the ground to try to wrap around a head, Keeka snagged its black fins in a tight grip and held it in places even as its toothy flaps whipped around to try to eviscerate him. He held it out to Arrush as his partner methodically shredded the creature until it had stopped moving, and it was tossed away from them dripping the black blood that shimmered with a tiny bit of color. When James caught the other one, he just whipped his arm, exercised a few small purple improvements that made the strenuous motion feel good, and flung the cone out the open gap in the structure to fall to its presumable death on the layer below. ¡±Okay!¡± Momo said, hands on her hips, back arched imperiously as she turned back to the others. ¡°That went- aaaahh!¡± She cut off as the one Anesh was pinning down twitched again, jumping back as Anesh ground his boot down. ¡±What do I do with this?¡± He asked James. ¡°I feel almost bad for the poor bloke.¡± James huffed. ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve influenced you too much.¡± He said with good humor. ¡°It is trying to eat your boot.¡± He pointed at the cone that was trying to roll so it could get its orange toothy flaps up to drag along Anesh¡¯s armored leg. ¡±Mmh. I don¡¯t want to shoot if I don¡¯t have to Arrush, can you¡­¡± Anesh gave a questioning look at the ratroach who had just used the sword he¡¯d been given to carve halfway through the suspended cone, freeing Ink-And-Key to blink. Arrush craned his neck around, splotches of chitin flexing as he moved in a way that would probably have been dangerous for a human but was just normal for his body. With a few long strides, he took a thrusting stance in front of Anesh, and lanced the tip of the sword down in a two handed grip to impale the cone. It took a few stabs, and he missed one as the thing twitched, but eventually it stopped moving. That had gone smoothly, and James nodded to the others happily. ¡°Check for coins? Before that car alarm attracts something.¡± It wasn¡¯t super loud at this distance, but the echo off the interior of the whole structure meant that they were going to be hearing it for a while unless they did something. There were no spell coins from the cone creatures, which wasn¡¯t abnormal. So they followed Rho, who had patiently waited in the back for the people who had non-bite combat options to solve the problem, as they continued tracking the civilian group. When they were far enough away from the car alarm that they could hear again, James shared a regret. ¡°I lament that I don¡¯t still have my sublimate rubber ability, if that¡¯s gonna be a thing around here.¡± ¡±Oh, I have a rubber blue!¡± Ink-And-Key seemed eager to share, before dipping his head in an abrupt shy motion. ¡°Ah, but it is for deposit rubber, which is less useful.¡± ¡±Deposit it where?¡± Keeka asked as he worriedly waited for Arrush to check the upcoming corner from around a scuffed cement pillar. Ink-And-Key flicked his tail and gave a short hiss. ¡°No, it is the material process. It turns gas into solid. It does not give me a rubber bank account. Oh! But we could invent one of those? I do not know if it would be useful.¡± As much as James wanted to get deep into the conversation about how cool it would be to have some kind of material bank that was accessible via magic, they were in a new dungeon, so he hushed them as they constant beeping settled into the background and eventually ended, and the party moved on. _____ ¡±How do you feel about being a parent?¡± Anesh asked James as the two of them stood at the vanguard of the rest of the group while they took a short rest. It had been ten minutes of solid high-alert delver walking in this place, another cone ambush, and taking a turn that James was pretty sure meant the parking structure they were in only looked square. So they were indulging some of the others and carefully searching through a few of the cars as a half-rest before moving on. James didn¡¯t quite process what Anesh said, instead keeping his eye on the upcoming end of the long row where a stairwell and one of those emergency stations that had a fire extinguisher in it were waiting. When he did catch up, though, he felt a shock of alarm. ¡°Wwwwwwhy?¡± He tried to make the word sound amused but he was pretty sure it came out as a panic instead. ¡±Relax!¡± Anesh gave a worried laugh as he caught on to what James was thinking. ¡°I was joking about babysitting Researchers.¡± He softly jerked his head back to where Momo and Rho were going through one of the unlocked cars with different degrees of excitement. The comparison James had gone for instantly was that the cars were a bit like the cubicles in Officium Mundi. They were little bundles of potential loot, obviously; glove boxes and center consoles, places to search and treasures both mundane and magic to find. Maybe with their own challenges in the form of traps or nesting life forms. Or at least, he¡¯d kind of assumed that. ¡°Ooh, score, an invitation to a wedding!¡± Momo¡¯s voice was at delver level where she was making sure people could hear her but carefully controlling so as to not yell. So far, with a little help, the group had gone through three cars that were unlocked - they didn¡¯t want to force the others yet - and found close to nothing. The biggest score was a discarded wallet that had contained a receipt for a place called Big Waffle Palace; likely it had never been printed for a real order, but if it had, whoever had been had gotten a brunch large enough to cost seven thousand dollars and probably kill a man. There was also a cell phone that had no battery and didn¡¯t work. If any of the bits of scrap were magic, James couldn¡¯t tell, and he actually had gotten good at that. Of course, if they were at the ¡®start¡¯ of the dungeon, it would make sense that there wasn¡¯t too much dungeontech. James wasn¡¯t exactly upset that they weren¡¯t being handed enchanted jumper cables or something already. But it did feel weird that there wasn¡¯t ¡®loot¡¯. Other dungeons seemed to use things like edible food and real world money for more than just aesthetic purposes, but here, there wasn¡¯t even a decade old dusty Snickers bar in a glove box. Not yet anyway. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s keep moving before the gasoline fumes choke out Rho entirely.¡± James said, sharing a look with Arrush who was watching their rear. It had been quiet enough so far, but he¡¯d never forget how dungeons could turn on you if you weren¡¯t careful. He¡¯d lived through a strider swarm before, and he didn¡¯t want to test himself on a flock of traffic cones. Also James was feeling anxious about losing their quarry. While they were making good progress on one of their objectives - learning about the dungeon - they had a more limited window on the second goal of figuring out what the shit was going on here. And since only one of them was a bloodhound of some description, he didn¡¯t want to fall too far behind. _____ The trail led into the stairwell, and Rho awkwardly led them down the steps covered in black strips of gripping material. His canine paws weren¡¯t really made for this, though he seemed if not fine then at least apathetic about twisting the body he inhabited in odd ways to make it work. They continued down, boots clapping on the echoing steps, the plastic and kevlar of their armor often scraping against the tight confines of the walls and railings. Down, quick left turn to the next staircase, around the landing ignoring the hefty metal door out, down again, repeat the pattern. ¡±This one.¡± Rho said after the group was staring to get very tired of stairs, seven levels down. They took the time to let him verify, going slightly farther down but finding the scent faded further into the dungeon. Anesh made a record of the distance and the markings on this particular landing in his notebook, a hard copy version of the map that Momo and Ink-And-Key were making their own version of through one of the skulljack programs. While they did that, James and Arrush moved up to the beige painted metal door, the human leaning forward to peek through the slit window of security glass. ¡±Nothing hostile I can see.¡± James said quietly. ¡°This place is so weirdly quiet.¡± ¡±The Office is quiet in the same way, in a lot of places.¡± Anesh offhandedly reminded him. ¡°But maybe the people before us cleared the way? That could be why there¡¯s nothing to steal either.¡± ¡±Loot.¡± Momo contested. ¡±Pillage!¡± Keeka chimed in happily. ¡°No wait that one sounds worse! Acquire?¡± James gave a smile only Arrush saw. ¡°I like acquire.¡± He said, before tapping Arrush¡¯s arm that was loosely holding his sword toward the ground in the absence of an actual sheath. ¡°You check left.¡± He muttered, placing a hand on the door and starting to push it open. The two of them stepped out, sweeping the new level as the others followed. Cars, mostly hatchbacks here but with a few compact economy models mixed in. Whites and browns not really contrasting with the surrounding garage. The low ceiling seemed even closer to the ground here, and across the internal road from where they¡¯d left the door, there was a flat wall of pitted concrete that was framed by dull metal pipes and still bore the marks of construction that had never happened. On the wall was graffiti. A riot of neon pinks and yellows, spray paint covering drilled holes and other marks. It didn¡¯t seem like it was meant to be anything at first glance, except maybe stylized letters or numbers. James had never been good at deciphering that kind of street art, and that was when it was made by humans and not a dungeon. ¡±Oh. Interesting.¡± Ink-And-Key stopped as the others fanned out and checked the surrounding space for cones or anything else mobile and hostile. He gazed at the wall ahead of them with a slightly narrowed lens. ¡°Six, three, seven, zero. Who wrote this? Why?¡± Momo slid up next to him, folding her arms and nodding appreciatively. ¡°Kinda looks like ass compared to some of the better signatures I¡¯ve seen, but I get it. You got that fast though, do you have skill ranks in street writing?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Ink-And-Key said. ¡°Is this relevant though?¡± ¡±Could be a passcode. Some of the cars have those digital locks on them.¡± Momo mused. ¡°Might be some kind of clue for something else. Or just dungeon nonsense! What¡¯s up with the little bug doodle in the middle though?¡± Ink-And-Key inched forward, trying to see what Momo saw. ¡°Oh. That. I assumed that was empty space. A car, perhaps?¡± If it was, it was the weirdest car either of the knights had ever seen. It actually reminded Momo a little of the exploded diagrams that Route Horizon sometimes showed, but instead of being about a specific car part, it was like the impression of a car with tendrils leading to other parts of the cluttered mural. One a little icon that was clearly fire, one that was an unknown cluster of circles and lines, one that was just a series of rectangles¡­ ¡±This place is weird as shit.¡± Momo decided. ¡°To be fair, Officium Mundi frequently generates wikipedia articles for things that have never existed.¡± Ink-And-Key contended. ¡°I am new to knowing wikipedia exists, but I did not require long to realize that was weird.¡± They took pictures of the graffiti, added a pin to their map just in case they needed a reference for if this was one of the dungeons that rearranged itself frequently, and moved on. _____ They passed a car that didn¡¯t have seats inside, but instead a flat metal panel and glass cylinder near it. Some kind of weird machinery that they stopped briefly to let Momo peer at. The car was locked, though, and James wouldn¡¯t let her smash a window. So they marked it for later. It wasn¡¯t the only one. Soon enough, they were seeing things like that every twenty cars or so. The insides replaced by wires and levers and tools that had no instruction manuals or easy ways to identify them. One of them even was unlocked, but none of the group could figure out what it did. The inner panels of the car doors had been replaced by slanted slots, the ignition was just a single green glass button, and there was some kind of hose that snaked around the ceiling before terminating over where the driver¡¯s seat would be. It was deeply weird, and nothing happened when they hit the button anyway. They kept seeing those strange machinery cars, but they had to keep moving. Deeper investigation could come later. _____ It didn¡¯t take long to find that they were on the right trail. Rho had kept leading them, insisting they were getting closer, and that there had definitely been a large group of people moved through here. More and more recently. James wasn¡¯t sure if dogs actually had that kind of magic smell power, which had prompted Momo to remind him that the Order had magical blood tracking magic. ¡±That doesn¡¯t work on people who¡¯ve been kidnapped-and-or-recruited.¡± James told her. ¡°Which¡­ actually, now that I say that¡­¡± What Momo had meant was to imply that magic for tracking was generally available, and maybe Rho just had some purple orbs. He did, too, and Rho was going to clear up the confusion just to end this conversation. But James had an idea now. He focused, calling up his Breath. The resource regenerated fast enough that he didn¡¯t feel that bad spending some to test this. Call to Blood was one of those spells that James was learning had a lot of weird cornercases and potential uses, but right now, he gave it the name of one of the people who it just straight up hadn¡¯t worked on a few days ago at the start of this investigation. Covering most of his arm, Zhu wheezed like a sputtering engine. ¡°Oooooh, that feels bizarre.¡± He said, pulling the sense of direction out of James¡¯ mind as the spell fed in the last place this potential victim had bled. ¡°It¡¯s like being thrown off a horse tornado but kind of on purpose.¡± Of academic interest to James was the fact that, to him, it just felt like a normal cast of the spell; which meant Zhu was experiencing a sensation radically different than he was, which was cool. Of immediate interest to the ongoing case, it stood out to him that it worked normally, and he had a general tug taking him forward and a little bit down, which just hadn¡¯t worked outside of the dungeon. Of personal interest was the fact that Zhu had just called something - James assumed it was a carousel - a horse tornado. But he wasn¡¯t going to mention that one. ¡±This way.¡± James said, shifting his armored form and wishing he had a heat pad or something to offset how the spell had chilled him. At least it wasn¡¯t enough Breath to make him dizzy or actually frozen. ¡°That is what I said.¡± Rho managed to sound indignant while having exactly no emotional tone to his words at all. Boots and claws slapped and clicked against the grey floor as they proceeded, passing a row of chipped yellow traffic bollards as they approached a down ramp. There were too many ramps. It had been almost instantly obvious. Some of the ramps went much, much too far, and there were multiple versions of them on each level, which just wasn¡¯t possible unless they were crossing through the same space. And James wasn¡¯t the only one who suspected that if they¡¯d tried to take the smooth angled surfaces to get down here from where they¡¯d started, that they would find themselves somewhere entirely different to where the stairs let them out. This ramp, though, was going the direction they wanted. And at the top of it, tucked between the end of one of the structural walls, and the first yellow pylon, there was another little splash of color. A pink suitcase. Wedged in the gap, retractable handle still sticking up. It didn¡¯t move as James and Arrush both held out hands to stop the others. ¡±¡­do you want me to shoot that luggage?¡± Anesh asked slowly. ¡°Because I will. This is how much I love you. I will gun down that innocent baggage for you.¡± Months and months of firearm training had drilled into him enough gun safety that he didn¡¯t actually hoist his bullpup rifle toward the target, but his hands gripped the gun in the kind of way that made it clear he was ready to. ¡°Someone already shot something here.¡± Arrush said before James could respond, giving the air a thick sniff. Ink-And-Key slithered up past Keeka, gently peeking out from behind the ratroach that was literally only half his size as if Keeka was a stable source of cover. ¡°I am looking at it, but it is not moving.¡± He offered. ¡±I¡¯m shooting the bloody bag.¡± Anesh raised his rifle. Now James stopped him, a gentle gloved hand on his boyfriend¡¯s armored arm. ¡°Hold up.¡± He said, inching forward. ¡°I¡¯m gonna check it.¡± James took two steps forward, and froze as something squeaked. It was the kind of squeak of sneakers on a smoothed floor, almost. Or like a car turning too suddenly in a parking garage exactly like this one, except with the volume turned way down. The noise put them all on guard, and the source revealed itself almost right away; a two foot tall black form lurching away from the wall on the other side of the ramp and accelerating toward James at high speed. Rolling toward him. James had barely a second to process that he was about to be run over by a single tire - all season, puncture resistant, symmetrical tread, his brain filled in the information unbidden and James was distracted wondering when he¡¯d gotten that skill rank - before the black circular form hit the dividing curb in the middle of the top of the ramp, launched into the air, and slammed into his ribs. It didn¡¯t actually hit that hard, was his first thought. The armor did its job and distributed the force pretty evenly, and most of the strike came from the weight and not the speed. It still made his stab wound ache though, and James tried to grab the thing as it bounced off him, even while he staggered backward. But it didn¡¯t bounce off him. Instead, the tire had opened up, uncurling. What looked like a hubcap coming apart to form stubby arms and legs with long thick claws, as the rest of the black rubber opened up to an arched form with a flat tail and equally flat face, some of those hubcap bits making for good teeth too apparently. James thought it looked fucking adorable, but before he could react to the thing that was trying to sink its natural weaponry into his flesh, Momo had run forward, grabbed it by the ¡®neck¡¯, and with a twist of her body that must have hurt her, slammed the thing into the ground like she was spiking a football. Arrush tried to slash at it, and his gifted sword just bounced off. Rho circled around where the creature was twisting to flip itself back over, but didn¡¯t look like he wanted to try biting the thing. And James just wanted to take a second to appraise the creature and see if maybe it wasn¡¯t actually hostile. A desire he did not get to fulfill, because as soon as it pulled itself up, the beast curled itself back up and began rolling forward. A burst of motion that seemed to come from nowhere, dodging another swing from Arrush and hitting Momo¡¯s leg hard enough to send her tumbling to the ground with a crunch of her hard shelled armor. Not satisfied with that damage, it circled through the group, James pivoting to track it, slammed into Rho¡¯s flank and kept rolling over the inhabitor as Rho let himself roll away to mitigate the impact, and then wheeled around to charge Anesh, building up momentum. It was five feet from Anesh when James tackled it, Zhu helping him to get a grip on the rubber monster as he slammed it to the ground and tried to get it in a chokehold. As soon as it unfurled and started frantically biting at his legs, James realized that he had grabbed it ¡®upside down¡¯, but that didn¡¯t really make grappling it any less effective. Deprived of momentum, its claws and teeth were actually far too dull to pierce the Order¡¯s standard delver armor. ¡±Okay, okay, chill!¡± James wasn¡¯t sure who he was even talking to. This thing seemed hostile in a way that dungeon life often did; not evil, but singleminded in the fact that it was here to be a problem. ¡°Bite twice if you understand me!¡± It responded by making a sound like a plastic tube being used as a woodwind, and then vomiting a projectile of boiling rubber at James¡¯ feet. He jerked his legs apart, letting it splash on the floor, but lost his grip long enough for it to start bounding away. Before it could curl up, Anesh dropped both knees onto its back, flattening it out like a piece of rubber roadkill, its clawed stubby limbs scraping for purchase on the floor. A blank, eyeless ¡®face¡¯ whipping back and forth as it tried to get away. And then Arrush stabbed it. Carefully, but deliberately and precisely. ¡±Well that was exhausting.¡± James said as Anesh offered him a hand and helped him up, both of them avoiding the steaming puddle of spreading black rubber bile. ¡±Really?¡± Anesh asked idly. ¡±Yeah, I got tired.¡± James said in what he hoped was his normal voice. There was a groan from the floor where Keeka was helping Momo up. ¡°I hate youuuuuu.¡± She grumbled. ¡°Also hey, free luggage.¡± Momo pulled the pink bag they¡¯d been looking at out from where it was wedged in the wall. ¡°Since this thing also didn¡¯t drop a coin, I claim this as my loot.¡± ¡±This says it belongs to someone¡­¡± Keeka said shyly, the fight having spooked him enough that he reverted a little from his newly energetic self. ¡±Well, dungeons put name tags on things sometimes.¡± James said. ¡°But also let¡¯s see what¡¯s in it.¡± Zhu opened the bag, just in case, claiming that being mostly incorporeal he was the easy option for disarming traps. Inside, there was tightly and neatly packed clothing, toiletries, and some books, only about half of which were religious texts. It looked like someone had packed for a really long trip, but a perfectly normal one. ¡±Too coherent.¡± Anesh decided. ¡±Agreed.¡± Ink-And-Key chimed in with a heavy nod. ¡°If it were dungeon made, it would be erratic. This is¡­ this is a person¡¯s. This belongs to a real someone.¡± Anesh gave the camraconda a professional nod back. ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡± He said. ¡°Why¡¯d they leave it?¡± ¡±That feels¡­ cruel?¡± Arrush asked. ¡±Yeah, we¡¯re in bad vibes territory.¡± James admitted. ¡°But it actually could just be a mistake. If we find a pile of discarded luggage, though, then I¡¯m assuming we¡¯re about to run into a pile of human skulls or a slave labor camp or something. And I don¡¯t care what I told the pillar, I¡¯m gonna start blasting anyone I see at that point.¡± ¡±Noted.¡± Anesh said with a lopsided frown. ¡°What now?¡± James steadied his breathing, massaging his flank and hoping it would magically fix his problem. ¡°Now we head down, keep our eyes sharp, and hope things are fine.¡± He said. ¡°Also, keep an eye out for what¡¯s¡­ weird about this place?¡± ¡±Is something weird about this place?¡± Anesh asked, frown spreading across his whole mouth. ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon, isn¡¯t it?¡± Rho¡¯s monotone voice coming from a dog¡¯s mouth was only the second most uncomfortable thing about what he said. ¡±No flesh in the creatures. No coins. No books. It is the wrong dungeon.¡± ¡±Well that just doesn¡¯t make any fucking sense.¡± Momo threw her hands up, startling Keeka. ¡°Lincon brought us here! It¡¯s the dungeon!¡± Her angry voice bounced off the metal piping and grey walls. ¡±No, he¡¯s right. But I doubt Lincon was trying to screw us. Especially since he couldn¡¯t say anything about this place.¡± James sighed as the group made sure they hadn¡¯t gotten injured by the angry treaded beast, got back in formation, and followed him down the ramp. One of the things he actually didn¡¯t like about delving with groups was the persistent sense that a lot of time was burned waiting for other people to form up and move with him. It wasn¡¯t a huge annoyance, especially now when he did know and like these people. But it added up, and it made his desire for efficiency itch. ¡±You worry a lot.¡± Zhu gave him a worried whisper. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Enjoy the journey. We¡¯re almost there anyway.¡± ¡±Are we?¡± James raised his eyebrows as he led the wedge formation of delvers past car after car in a low walk. They gave a wide berth to a pair of orange and white reflective barricades that had been unfolded to block the right hand turn from cars that would never drive here. The turn itself was probably a good idea to block, honestly, if this were a working parking garage. It split off from the steep downward ramp, veering off in a way where a car that actually tried to drive it would be angled more than a little bit sideways as the driver had an anxiety attack about whether or not they were about to scrape part of their vehicle on the rectangular columns of concrete that boxed it in. ¡°Well, good.¡± James decided. The air here was making his lungs hurt. Or maybe that was just the Breath he¡¯d spent. But no, it was regenerating slower than it should; there was definitely something wrong with the air, and they were going to need to bring proper gear for that in the future. The ramp kept descending. A few times, in the endless rows of parking spaces, there¡¯d be cars that had dents or bullet holes in them. It made James pretty sure that the reason they were getting this deep without too much combat was that the party ahead of them was sweeping the area. And they were deep in. If they¡¯d gone as far into the Office as they had here, they¡¯d be encountering camracondas and weird geometry by now. But instead it was mostly quiet. Until they approached the bottom of the ramp. Smooth concrete leveling out to the next lower level of the garage, the party having descended at least eighty feet by now in total. But past a painted white LEAVE on the floor, and a drinking fountain mounted on the corner that you could not pay James enough to taste from, there was a hole. The external concrete wall, the chest high barrier that kept people from driving their cars off into open air, had apparently had some kind of unfortunate interaction here. It looked like something had taken a scoop out of the wall, a near perfectly circular explosion that had blown away the concrete in a neat line, leaving only a few rebar bones behind. It offered a great view of the outside, and James approached the open area cautiously but curious. There were no cars parked here, and this whole level actually looked pretty empty of vehicles, though he obviously didn¡¯t have a perfect line of sight through the stone pillars and walls. Out there, though, there were clouds of grey-black smog, some of them roiling with sparks of lightning. Up above, by the entrance, they¡¯d spotted another adjacent tower across a massive parking lot, and here wasn¡¯t much different. Down below them - though only maybe a fifty or hundred foot drop below - there was what looked like an asphalt rooftop dotted in vehicles. And out beyond, other structures rose like fingers into the sky until the smoke and clouds blocked the view of their peaks. One of them, a spiral structure that gleamed with a sparkling white exterior and elegant LED outlines, was so close to where they were that James felt like it would be possible to find a way to bridge the gap if he needed to. As he and Zhu crept closer to the breach, the navigator digging talons into the broken wall with only a little nervousness, James could see to the left that there would be no hang gliding required; there was some kind of sky bridge over, not too far away on this very level it looked like. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± Momo asked, kneeling on the other side of the gap and leaning out way too far to point down below them. James refocused, waving a hand to tell Ink-And-Key to not crowd the people who were way too close to a lethal fall as he looked down at where Momo was pointing. ¡±It looks like there¡¯s a garden on that¡­ roof¡­¡± Zhu¡¯s obvious answer trailed off as the garden shifted. Not like the plants shifted, or there was motion within in. Instead, the splotch of green that Momo was pointing at was sliding across the rooftop parking lot below them; smooth and steady motion as it swung to one side and seemed to vanish over the edge, before swinging back again to the other end. Different plants and other formations showing through as it moved, cars vanishing to be replaced by garden walls or fountains, before reappearing when the splotch passed fully. It looked for all the world like there was a hole in the photoshop layer of their world, and it was being dragged back and forth in a consistent pattern. ¡°What is that?¡± Momo reiterated. ¡°It looks like¡­ holy shit, goat bird!¡± Her eyes widened in excitement as a furred winged creature flapped through the green and landed heavily on the roof of a minivan, hooves setting off a distant car alarm that added to a low wail of the things that made up the background soundscape here. ¡°Yo, check that out!¡± James puffed his cheeks as he blew out a long breath. ¡°That¡­¡± he stared at the distortion in dungeon space that was odd even by his standards. ¡°That is another dungeon.¡± He said quietly. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ holy shit, that¡¯s so fucking weird. That is gonna blow a billion theories out of the water, wow, everyone is going to go nuts about this one.¡± He turned back to the others, seeing Arrush, Rho, and Keeka with their noses collectively turned upward and sniffing the air, while Ink-And-Key and Anesh moved to look now that there was a safe spot by the ledge over the unsurvivable fall. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± He asked. ¡±Something is¡­ off.¡± Arrush said, claws tightening on his sword and the handles of his sheathed knives. ¡°Th-there¡¯s less smell.¡± Rho made a noise that just didn¡¯t fit with his dog form. ¡±It¡¯s recent. Maybe something approaching us and hiding itself.¡± James forced himself to keep moving and not freeze up, pacing out into the open and standing under the yellow and black bars of the hanging maximum clearance sign. He slowly panned his vision across the breadth of the space he could see, including an elevator in the back wall and an interior door that was propped open that he was pretty sure led to that skybridge. Gently resting one hand on his holstered gun, he gave Zhu a mental nudge. ¡±I don¡¯t know what you want from me, I can¡¯t see invisible stuff.¡± Zhu murmured. ¡°All I can say is that we¡¯re close to¡­ no, we¡¯re at the end of the¡­ there.¡± A spot was highlighted to James, a feeling of a destination imposed onto the physical world. With a practiced flash of motion, he had his pistol out and leveled directly at it, his Aim locking onto something that he couldn¡¯t see, but somehow suddenly understood was there. And the spell broke. The cloak of warm haze that had kept the people surrounding them from being perceived dropped away, and James was faced with the end of a much more modern pistol pointed back his way, a somewhat surprised young man in an oil-stained white dress shirt looking at him with alarm. Not too much alarm though, because the dozen people that had the Order team in their sights had gotten very close, and covered a whole semi-circle of space between them and the door to the skybridge. There was a long, long pause, where it felt like the slightest twitch could set off a deadly battle. It really wasn¡¯t that long at all, because James knew that the others wouldn¡¯t be frozen for long. Arrush and Keeka weren¡¯t frozen at all, they were just waiting for his lead. Actually, Rho was giving off a calm aura as well, and Anesh had a modified reaction time. Was James the slowest person here? He¡¯d dwell on that later. For now, he made the snap decision to take a risk. And he smiled, honest and cheerful. Putting on his best Sarah impression. ¡±Ah!¡± James said, spinning his handgun around in his grip and partly holstering it with a smooth motion that got a twitch from their ambushers but - very importantly - not a gunshot. ¡°Doctor Livingston, I presume!¡± ¡±Who are you?!¡± The man closest to him demanded in a scratchy voice that was very much on edge and not amused by James¡¯ quip at all. ¡°What are you doing here, how did you follow us?!¡± James sighed, slowly moving a hand back and lowering it slightly to indicate to his companions that he didn¡¯t want a fight here. ¡°Consider me your two o¡¯clock appointment.¡± He said, meeting the man¡¯s eyes with calm determination, and getting a flinch in response as the person still aiming a deadly weapon at him adjusted his nervous grip. ¡°We have a lot to talk about.¡± ¡±Yes. Take us to your leader.¡± Ink-And-Key added. Unhelpfully, too, as every gun shifted to point at the camraconda. ¡±God dammit.¡± Momo fearlessly walked up to Ink-And-Key, cracking her neck and leaning an elbow on the camraconda¡¯s head, conveniently blocking every shot with her body and bevy of shield bracers. ¡°I was going to say that! You fucking asshole, you¡¯re supposed to be shy and nervous!¡± ¡±I am evolving! Get off of me!¡± The white-corded camraconda nudged Momo away. One of the ambushers, a skinny guy with an almost gaunt face, snickered at the byplay, lowering his gun ever so slightly. And that was enough. Several of the others lowered their weapons too, fundamentally unwilling to shoot people who were joking and not threatening them. ¡±Seriously, though.¡± James said to the angry young human who had kept a pistol leveled at his face. ¡°Put that down please. We¡¯re here to talk, and if you have leadership, we should meet them.¡± He met his eyes, wishing that he had Alanna¡¯s Empathy and not his own useless-for-this-situation Aim. Maybe they could find a way to trade later. The process of negotiation in a situation like this was an odd one. James needed to make it look like he wasn¡¯t imposing anything, while at the same time, getting what he wanted. And he needed to do it while saying as few words as possible, and getting the man to think it was his own idea. So he kept his gaze level, projected an aura like he was supposed to be here, kept himself from smiling just in case it was mistaken as a smirk, and waited. Lessons from JP and knowledge from a skill rank mixing to tell him oddly specific things about how to tilt his head and how to shift his feet. What to do about eye contact and microexpressions. How to send a message without saying it. And then the gun was lowered. Still pointed at him, but not directly leveled at his face, which was a nice gesture, even if the stance didn¡¯t actually matter and James was shielded anyway; they didn¡¯t need to know that. ¡±Rourke! Go get Robertson!¡± He said, trying to make the command sound authoritative and ending up sounding like he was definitely not the one in control here. ¡°Tell him we have guests, and they want to talk.¡± James just smiled, and nodded. Finally, he was thinking, progress. Chapter 295 ¡°My bright spot this week is there¡¯s a new Oreo on the market. Coca-cola Oreos. They¡¯re trash. But I appreciate the idea of trying to turn a soda into a cookie; I respect the game.¡± -Dan Frizen, Knowledge Fight- _____ Paul Robertson opened the conversation with James by forcing a polite handshake out of himself, offering his name, and saying ¡°No relation.¡± Who he was supposed to be related to, James didn¡¯t actually know, and the mundane arcana of Google didn¡¯t work through five hundred feet of concrete and rebar. Or in a dungeon. Probably had more to do with dungeon, actually, these days. His conversation partner had met him by the gap in the dungeon. Both parties had backed off, James sending the others up the ramp while the collection of armed Mormons had backed up toward the door to the skybridge. He still had a lot of guns¡­ not pointed at him, exactly, but generally prepared to be fired in his direction. And held by young men who all looked really twitchy for people who were supposedly escorting dull-eyed civilians through a dungeon with some regularity. Not that he was actually nervous; he¡¯d set his shield bracers one by one, and he was confident if a fight started. He just didn¡¯t really want one to. James had been in too many fights, and he was going to be in more, but he¡¯d still prefer to avoid them where possible. James was looking down at the hole in the dungeon when the more mature human approached him. He honestly would have been fine just examining the dungeon breach. Because he could tell, somehow; it wasn¡¯t just a part of this dungeon being weird, it wasn¡¯t an effect or a creature or an infomorph. That sweeping window into greenery and wrought iron fountains was a hole between two entirely different dungeons, and it was something that he¡¯d love to be spending time on. Instead he¡¯d be spending time on Roberson. Robertson was early forties, receding hairline in a short business cut, a bony narrow face that was used to hiding how tired he was. He was clearly trying to draw on a kind of natural authority as he approached, being both older and in charge of some kind of conspiracy, but he faltered when he saw Zhu. Hence the forced handshake. ¡±How did you get in here and what do you want?¡± The man continued, pulling his hand back like he was afraid Zhu was going to dig talons into his arm and try to eat him. ¡°Nice to meet you too.¡± James said, moving instantly into open antagonism and not bothering to hide it. ¡°It¡¯s not often that I run into other delvers in a place like this. Never, actually, unless you count¡­ well, that¡¯s a long story.¡± He put on a fake smile, trying to not react to Zhu¡¯s feathers vibrating with repressed laughter. ¡°This place is fascinating.¡± He said with sudden quiet honesty, looking away again to watch as distant cars below them slipped back into this reality as the trees and grass on the other side was covered up again. The man was unimpressed, and James¡¯ words provoked a quick anger in him as he didn¡¯t get what he wanted. Though he covered it up well enough, James saw through it just as easily. ¡°You¡¯re trespassing on private property.¡± Robertson decided to just lie in an effort to expedite whatever James was going for. ¡±No I¡¯m not.¡± James smiled, still facing out over the hole in the rough white concrete wall. He waited for another pass of the dungeon breach below before turning to face the other man properly. ¡°And you know it. You don¡¯t own this place, unless you always walk around places you own armed.¡± ¡±It¡¯s useful for trespassers.¡± Robertson frowned at him. ¡°You don¡¯t seem especially worried about that, though.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t, no.¡± James said with a sigh that he regretted as he inhaled more of the fume filled air than he meant to. ¡°For two reasons. The important one is, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re the kind of guy who shoots people.¡± He raised his eyebrows at the other man, who met his eyes with an inexperienced scowl before eventually giving a sharp jerk of a nod. ¡°The good news is, I¡¯m not here to shoot anyone either.¡± James said with a smile, looking around them before moving away from the gap to lean on a nearby pillar. He¡¯d been on his feet for an hour of walking, and he wanted to sit down, but there wasn¡¯t anywhere to do that except for a bunch of cars that would either make the conversation awkward, or weren¡¯t really cars on the inside. His conversation partner folded his hands in front of himself as he adjusted his stance and eyes James with annoyance. ¡°Well you didn¡¯t show up here by accident. And you still haven¡¯t told me who you are. What are you here to do?¡± ¡±Diplomacy.¡± James said plainly, giving a small wave that showed off Zhu¡¯s feathered extra arm and eyes. ¡°Hello. My name is James Lyle, this is Zhu Bajie, I am a paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms, and we are here to start a conversation. And, hopefully, peaceful relations between our two groups.¡± ¡°Groups.¡± Paul adjusted the cuffs of his button up shirt, the garment stained in a few places from both sweat and what was probably oil. ¡°You think you know a lot about us.¡± James was getting kind of tired of the indirect comments that felt like this guy was just working to buy time for something. ¡°Yes.¡± He said with a firm voice. ¡°I know that you¡¯re one of at least two conspiracies revolving around this place. I know you¡¯re bringing people in to keep them safe from some nebulous future apocalypse. I also happen to know that, of the two shadowy cabals operating inside your church¡¯s hierarchy, I vastly prefer this one to the one that¡¯s pushing kids to brainwash themselves. Which is why I¡¯m here, to arrange for some diplomacy.¡± ¡±How-¡° ¡±We¡¯ve been investigating stuff in the area and somehow stumbled upon you.¡± Zhu cut in. ¡°On account of all the disappeared people.¡± ¡±-did you get in here?¡± Paul finished his statement, nervously shifting back from James and Zhu when the navigator spoke. ¡°It talks, too?¡± Uncertain of how to be more direct, James tried anyway. ¡°One of the victims of the aforementioned other shadowy cabal showed us. After that, we walked. It¡¯s not hard. We¡¯ve done this before.¡± He ignored the shitty comment about Zhu. Mostly because he knew Zhu wasn¡¯t going to ignore it. ¡°Oh yeah, it talks.¡± The navigator rumbled. ¡°Better than you, so far, too. Is your vocabulary limited to dumb questions and threats?¡± ¡°I-!¡° Robertson started to sputter. ¡±Please.¡± James said, resting a hand on Zhu¡¯s feathers that were fanned out across his armor. ¡°Chill. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, what with all of you pointing guns at us. I¡¯m trying to explain that we are interested in a strategic alliance.¡± That got an even more suspicious glare. ¡°You followed us in here, waited until we were in a vulnerable position, almost ambushed us, and expect me to believe you?¡± ¡±Since I didn¡¯t know those second two things until right now, yes.¡± James nodded, smiling and snapping his fingers to punctuate the next sentence. ¡°Good to know you¡¯re in a vulnerable ambushed position though I guess. But, like, if you want we can just set up a meeting at a Starbucks or something? I was sort of assuming you were in charge but I¡¯m starting to wonder now. Are you?¡± Paul bristled again, mouth twisting as he struggled to not show how annoyed he was getting with James¡¯ attitude that was both casual and open about things that were supposed to be secrets. ¡°I have been assigned this role by the trust of the Quorum, and I am ¡®in charge¡¯, yeah. And I¡¯m telling you to get out. We aren¡¯t some splinter group you can exploit, we don¡¯t make alliances like this is a bad video game. We¡¯re doing important work, and you¡¯re in the way. If I was supposed to talk to you, the prophet would have told me, and he didn¡¯t, so I¡¯m not.¡± ¡±Great. Give me his number then.¡± James crossed his arms and returned the glare, really regretting leaning on the structural support. As soon as he¡¯d done so, his Endurance had decided he was relaxed enough to not need his help, and despite all the exercise and improvements that James had gone through over the last few years, his legs still hurt like hell after all the hiking and running that had been going on the last couple days. ¡°I¡¯m fine talking to someone higher up.¡± ¡±No.¡± ¡±No?¡± ¡±No. The opposite of yes.¡± The line almost got a snort of laughter from James, but he held it in as Robertson continued. ¡°In charge or not, there¡¯s no way I¡¯m letting you interfere with our great work. I¡¯m also not going to let you twist my words around to get answers out of me.¡± That part just wasn¡¯t true, but James didn¡¯t say that bit. He was getting the impression his negotiation partner might be bad at the negotiation part of being a leader. Not that he had any place to judge. ¡°I think you misunderstand.¡± He said, letting the sass drop from his voice. ¡°I have no real interest in stopping you. We just want to make sure you¡¯re doing this ethically, so we don¡¯t have to fight.¡± James¡¯ sagged his shoulders, the motion concealed a little by the frame of the armor he was wearing. ¡°If anything, we¡¯re actually here to help.¡± The exhaustion in his voice got a pause from the man who had been prepared to just be angry at him and start yelling when things didn¡¯t work the way he wanted. Robertson actually did something James had almost given up on seeing; stopping, and thinking, before he spoke again. When he did talk next, it was with a more even tone, matching James¡¯ own less antagonistic attempt. ¡°How nice of you.¡± He stifled a sigh. ¡°We don¡¯t need any help from you. Especially¡­¡± a short glance got thrown toward the ramp where Momo was antagonizing her camraconda friend and a pair of ratroaches were quietly observing the chaos. ¡°Not your help. You¡¯re right. I¡¯m not the kind of guy who shoots people. But you can¡¯t be here. Get your¡­ friends¡­ and get out. Go get yourselves into trouble somewhere else.¡± James nodded, and made no move to leave. He had a few objectives with this attempt to contact these people. But the big one was the most basic and most important; they needed to trade phone numbers so that they could talk. That was it. Just the ability to have repeated peaceful interactions was critical. Once that happened, it wasn¡¯t James¡¯ job. Not exactly. He wasn¡¯t actually the person who would be talking to them, long term, at least not most of the time. The Order didn¡¯t have professional diplomats, exactly, but they would vote on how they wanted their interactions to go, broadly speaking, and then the people who were closest to professionals in Recovery would maintain a long term relationship. And maybe that would grow to something more in time; sharing information and resources, and even help. And there were secondary goals, like not letting on anything about the pillar in the area that was apparently in favor of this project, or trying to figure out just how aware of the fact that a chunk of their membership were inhuman shapeshifters without letting on to that very fact just in case. But James really wasn¡¯t kidding when he offered to have a chat at a coffee shop. That was kind of all he really needed right now. After that, there was a whole dungeon around them. Two dungeons. And that called to him a lot more than arguing with people who were hiding on purpose. Of course, there was one bonus goal. If he could make them into allies, then maybe, just maybe, they could dismantle the other side of the magical underworld of the Mormon church. James absolutely would do it himself; he wasn¡¯t going to stop being angry at the overt abuse happening. But if the change happened internally, it would go smoother, and it would cost the Order nothing. And also he could do more dungeon delving. ¡±You¡¯re really into this place. Is there something I should know about your obsession with parking garages?¡± Zhu whispered to him. ¡±They¡¯re a fascinating part of civic infrastructure.¡± James whispered back. Then he raised his voice to conversational again. ¡°Tell you what,¡± he offered politely, ¡°we¡¯ll hang out here for a bit. You can take a minute to talk it over with the rest of your group. I promise we won¡¯t try to invade your special spiral shaped magic parking garage. And then, even if you don¡¯t want anything to do with us, we can at least give you a way to contact our group if you change your mind later. Okay?¡± Diplomatic contact, James was finding, was largely about omission. This man didn¡¯t need to know about any secondary conflict, didn¡¯t need to know James had promised a pillar not to mess with them, didn¡¯t need to know that James actually just wanted an opportunity to identify and talk with one of the shapeshifters in the other group. So he said none of that. But he also, importantly, didn¡¯t lie. He really did want this to work out. And to his satisfaction, Robertson nodded slowly. ¡°Alright. And then you¡¯ll leave.¡± ¡±And then we¡¯ll leave.¡± James¡­ supposed he wasn¡¯t actually lying. But they would also be coming back. There was a fundamental problem with a group like this with no oversight, which was that they basically had no checks on their ethics. So if James left, he¡¯d then sneak back in, possibly by hang gliding over to the other parking structure in a move that future historians would describe as ¡®assuredly lethal¡¯, and take a look around. People were entitled to their secrets and privacy. Right up until the point when they started possibly keeping a bunch of civilians prisoner in a dungeon. And James absolutely had no desire to be a hypocrite in this regard; if someone suspected the same from the Order, he¡¯d give them a fucking guided tour to put their mind at ease. There was such a thing as operational security, but there was a lot or room to be honest without compromising that. Robertson walked back past the line of business casual guards who weren¡¯t pointing guns but were still looming around the skybridge, and James headed back to his own group. Though not before taking a look at the guards themselves, and trying to figure out just on instinct which of them weren¡¯t human. It was a challenge, mostly because they all had the same shirts and haircuts, and he wasn¡¯t willing yet to write off all of them being clones or something. ¡±That looked demoralizing.¡± Ink-And-Key greeted James as he walked up to them, the camraconda breaking off from his conversation with Rho about a book they¡¯d been reading. ¡±It was, thanks.¡± James sighed and coughed from it as Anesh shifted nervously next to him. ¡°They¡­ well, that guy specifically, isn¡¯t interesting.¡± Momo leaned back on the hood of a rusted spotted old derelict of a car. ¡°Nefariously? Or are they just stupid?¡± That was the million dollar question. ¡°No idea.¡± James said with a shake of his head, hands fidgeting with one of the clips on his armor. ¡±I think they¡¯re stupid.¡± Zhu volunteered. ¡±Zhu thinks they¡¯re stupid, yes. I mean, I agree, but that doesn¡¯t even rule out them being nefarious. We need more¡­¡±. He looked around at the others, tilting his head as he scrutinized Anesh and Arrush both nervously fidgeting. ¡°¡­Where¡¯s Keeka?¡± Arrush scraped the tip of his gifted sword across the floor with a noise that made James¡¯ teeth itch. ¡±H-he is¡­ sneaking.¡± With a more composed but equally unhappy huff, Anesh clarified. ¡°He took a couple of the earrings, vanished, and snuck across the skybridge.¡± Anesh looked deeply displeased by it. ¡°I assume because he thinks he¡¯s the best at sneaking.¡± ¡±He is.¡± Arrush added quietly, eyes locked on the skybridge door, ignoring the guards. ¡°But.¡± ¡±But.¡± Anesh echoed. ¡±I¡¯m making that a problem for future us.¡± James said. ¡°Because I trust Keeka to not be seen. I mean, come on, how many of you have looked up at how many fucking hideable pipes are overhead?¡± Five heads and one set of navigator eyes titled upward to where two different person-width iron pipes ran side by side with a small gap between themselves and the concrete ceiling. ¡°Yeah. So while Keeka investigates, and Robertson fucks around figuring out how long he should wait before telling us to leave again, I want to do one more thing. Momo!¡± ¡±Boss!¡± Momo snapped to attention, before instantly regretting it as pain shot through her hip and she ground her teeth hard enough to crack one of them. A problem that she decided to pass on to a hypothetical future purple orb. ¡°What¡¯s¡­ what¡¯s up?¡± ¡±Which of the guards are human?¡± The way James said it was so simple and casual. And Momo felt a burst of pride that he trusted her to just have that answer on hand. She did have the answer, too; the affiliation glasses kinda sucked for this since they didn¡¯t really tell you much aside from who someone worked for, and all these people worked for the church. But Momo had ways, and by ways, she meant a variety of weird red orb totems, and also a couple other Office magic items. Her favorite for this particular situation was the totem that let her check birthdays (Arrush¡¯s was coming up soon and she didn¡¯t know if anyone knew or if she should say anything) and the stress ball thing that gave her an echo of heartbeats when she squeezed it. Between those two, she had a clear answer already. Which was why it was a little annoying when Anesh spoke up. ¡°The two on the left.¡± He said, not looking at the line of human-looking guards stretched across the aisle in a way that would have made walking past without being seen impossible. They weren¡¯t in good guard positions, and they clearly weren¡¯t prepared for a fight, but it probably would have seemed intimidating to a bunch of inexperienced kids. ¡±How do you know that?!¡± Momo demanded. ¡°I wanted to be the one who knew that¡­¡± She pouted. Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°Ah, apologies. Zhu, can you eat James¡¯ memory of that so Momo¡­¡± he stopped trying to make a joke as James reminded him with a look that they were on a timer, and Momo just dropped her shoulders and groaned in aggravation. ¡°Right. Well. They¡¯re the only two looking at Arrush and Ink. Looking looking, that is to say. They¡¯re curious, and they aren¡¯t afraid like the others are.¡± ¡±I had to use three bits of dungeontech¡­¡± Momo griped. ¡±I have a random skill rank from several years ago.¡± Anesh smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Pattern recognition was something he never really learned how to turn off, but to be fair, after living with it for a little bit, he¡¯d more or less stopped trying. ¡±And I have a conversation to have.¡± James said, trying to pave over their mild bickering. ¡°Ink-And-Key, Rho, can you two do me a favor? Go check out the view from the hole in the wall, would you?¡± The camraconda and inhabitor looked past James to where the concrete had been shattered. ¡°I am curious about the phenomena happening below, yes.¡± Ink-And-Key said with his seemingly deliberately nervous voice. ¡°And I will do it. I can take better recordings. But why?¡± James flicked his eyes in the direction of the other sentinels. ¡°So they focus on you two, and not me talking to their friends.¡± He said before turning to Anesh and Arrush. ¡°You two wait here, because I need them to not notice when Keeka comes back, and ratroaches stand out.¡± ¡°A leh-little.¡± Arrush nodded, dripping a few flecks of corrosive saliva onto the ground. ¡°What do we do while we wait?¡± James smiled and patted both of them on the shoulders of their armor, leaving his partners to figure out how to navigate that awkward situation themselves. ¡°That¡¯s a little mean.¡± Zhu laughed quietly to him. ¡±I¡¯m kinda in a hurry.¡± James reminded the navigator. ¡°How¡¯re you doing?¡± He asked as he walked past the last couple cars on the ramp, resisting the impulse to lay his gloved hands on them to steady himself as he walked down the paved pseudo-road that was slightly too steep. Zhu shifted on the exterior of James¡¯ delver armor. ¡°I¡¯m pretty good actually. Ready to stop being sick, but what else is new. Turns out, chronic health problems suck. Who knew?¡± ¡±Fewer people than you might think.¡± James replied with a grimace as he rounded the dividing wall that led to a ticket machine, which seemed to be attached to nothing at all. But it wasn¡¯t trying to kill him right now, so it wasn¡¯t getting investigated today. ¡°We¡¯ll find a solution. There has to be one, you know?¡± ¡±You keep saying that. And I almost believe you! Now stop whispering to yourself and talk to your new best friends.¡± Zhu¡¯s wide feathered tail slapped against the back of James¡¯ leg, the navigator making sure his favorite organic vehicle was paying attention. Which meant James was smiling slightly as he approached the two guards on this far side of their line. They turned to watch him, but the others were clearly paying attention to the nonhumans that were watching the weird rift. Not that they didn¡¯t notice James, but more like they had other priorities, and one of the two here signaled that it was okay since James wasn¡¯t actually charging their line or anything. Instead, he just walked up to one of them, keeping his voice low and the pleasant smile on his face as he opened the conversation. ¡°This is not a threat.¡± He said simply. ¡°But do they know?¡± ¡±Beg your pardon?¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± The two of them answered him at the same time, words covering the others up. The reaction to what he¡¯d actually said took a couple seconds, just like with most humans, but when it came, it was quick. Both of them stepping toward him, voices dropping. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± One of them said in a tone that was probably trying to be intimidating and failed utterly. Mostly because James could hear their voice shaking. ¡°Do they know that you aren¡¯t human? I don¡¯t want to out you.¡± ¡±How do you- no, not important. What do you want.¡± The closest man cut himself off, letting a cold anger take over his stare. It didn¡¯t fully work, he was clearly still panicking and his partner was doing an even worse job of covering that up. But James really wasn¡¯t here to take advantage of that. ¡°Some quick answers, which I think you can provide.¡± ¡±We can¡¯t really say no, can we?¡± The other one demanded bitterly. ¡±You absolutely can.¡± Zhu cut in with his engine voice. ¡°He¡¯s asking because he means it.¡± The guards narrowed their eyes at Zhu, clearly not believing that the navigator was even separate from James in a meaningful way. ¡°If it makes you feel better, I could threaten you?¡± James covered his friend¡¯s eyes with his off hand. ¡±Zhu, stop.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Look, I won¡¯t force the issue. I just want to know what¡¯s going on, and I figured you might want to help me out. Unless you¡¯re kidnapping people or something evil, I actually mean you no harm.¡± There was a glint of grey smoke from the first one¡¯s left eye, a bit of motion so fast James wasn¡¯t sure he hadn¡¯t imagined it. Then he turned to his friend, eyebrows raising. ¡°He means that.¡± He said. ¡±You mean that?¡± The other one asked James. ¡±Holy shit I want that spell.¡± Zhu said what James was thinking. James made a mental note that Zhu needed to go through JP¡¯s crash course on how to navigate social conflict like this. ¡°I do mean it.¡± He said with a nod. ¡°I also mean it when I say I need to know what¡¯s going on here. What¡¯s really going on.¡± ¡±What¡­ what do you know so far?¡± The first one ventured, shifting closer to James and keeping his voice down. The echo of the parking structure dungeon meant that Ink-And-Key and Rho arguing about singular known effects or something was loudly overshadowing the soft conversation James was having, but it didn¡¯t hurt to be careful. ¡°What do you think we are?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t know what you are. Or, I mean, I think you¡¯re people, and that¡¯s basically as far as I care.¡± James shrugged, dismissing a concern like it was that simple. Of course, it was that simple to him, and he was prepared to get in a lot of fights over it. ¡°As for the other part¡­ okay, I think you¡¯re bringing people in here, and building some kind of refuge. I think you¡¯re separate from the child brainwashing thing, but clearly you¡¯re using magic from the same source. I sorta know why, but I don¡¯t know the details. And, importantly, I don¡¯t know where your people fit in.¡± James barraged the guard with a wall of honesty, before pausing for breath. ¡°Oh, and I have no idea why there¡¯s a second dungeon. Or if it is a second dungeon.¡± ¡±Dungeon¡­ yes. Yes, it is.¡± The man nodded, glancing at the others before turning his back to his companions and facing James. He took a deep breath, heedless of the fumes in the air, before going still and beginning to change. Skin rippling like a stilling pond, before his features sunk away, his complexion changing from nebulously white to an oily midnight black like liquid rubber. All that was left of the smooth face was a pair of divots that could be eyes, and a gap for a mouth. ¡°This is what we are.¡± He - it? They? James would ask later - said. As he spoke, he searched James¡¯ face for any sign of hostility or revulsion. And found nothing. James just nodded. ¡°So, the other dungeon is¡­ what, parasitic? Invading somehow?¡± The shapeshifter looked away as it reverted to its human form. And it was clear, when he spoke again, that he was holding back a powerful swell of emotion at James¡¯ reaction. ¡°We don¡¯t know. It has always been that way. It¡¯s useful, and our cousins across the veil aren¡¯t evil. Usually.¡± He sighed again, daring to offer James a small smile. ¡°All this time hiding, and¡­ you know¡­ you do know, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡±I suspect.¡± James knew how hard it could be to bury a part of yourself, to hide something from people you wanted to respect you or listen to you or even just not hate you. His version felt pitiful compared to the magnitude of hiding your species, but he got it. ¡°So. The whole starting a city in a dungeon thing?¡± ¡±It¡¯s not a city.¡± The shapeshifter shook his head, almost whispering. ¡°But it is a stockpile of people. Using one of the machines.¡± James nodded, trying to prompt the right questions. ¡°You¡­ well, your people, maybe not you specifically¡­ you led them here, didn¡¯t you? This is way too deep in to find by chance, especially with how many little twists and turns there were. You¡¯d have to be doing dedicated mapping delves for years to get this far if you were moving evenly through the dungeon.¡± ¡±We did. And told them it was a miracle.¡± Zhu laughed lightly. ¡±Kinda rude.¡± He offered. The shapeshifter examined the navigator with new eyes. ¡°Maybe.¡± He said, with a sly toothy grin. ¡°But if we told them anything else, they¡¯d try to kill us or weaponize us, like they do with our garden cousins. And besides, who¡¯s to say it¡¯s not a miracle?¡± ¡±Me!¡± Zhu stated confidently. ¡±Despite my position as a filthy nonbeliever, I really don¡¯t think that¡¯s your specialty.¡± James told his friend, retaking the wheel of the conversation. ¡°So what is happening to these people? Are they even alive?¡± ¡±Of course!¡± The second one barked loudly, drawing a few looks from the other human sentries, before his friend made him lower his voice. ¡°We¡­ we were telling the truth. Mostly. I never said it was a miracle, either! They figured that out on their own!¡± He said it with a kind of inclination to his words that made James think that mayhaps this specific shapeshifter did think it was a miracle. His friend winced. ¡°I¡­ I did say the word ¡®miracle¡¯, repeatedly.¡± He admitted, leaning closer to James and whispering in a voice even his companion wouldn¡¯t hear. ¡°I don¡¯t belive in any of this. Not really.¡± He said, pulling away. ¡°But we didn¡¯t hurt anyone. Not here. Not us. But once they came in, we had to make a choice, and we chose the way that means we can¡¯t control what happens with the magic.¡± He looked like someone who was committed to the democratic process, but had absolutely voted for something else. ¡±I¡­ really understand that.¡± James rubbed the back of his neck, where his skulljack sat. ¡°So, what does happen once someone gets brought in here? What¡¯s the process?¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡±The cul- the church reaches out to them,¡± the shifter eyed his partner who had backed off and was now also watching the other Order knights doing their observations, ¡°if they agree, and so far almost everyone has because they¡¯re picking people who they know will agree, then they get brought here. We¡¯ve started using more and more magic or miracles, however you want to say it, to make it happen smoother. But then it¡¯s exactly what we told them.¡± ¡±Some kind of safe storage?¡± ¡±Exactly. One of the machines could slow living things down. And because of the quirk from the cousin home, we were able to replicate it. A lot.¡± He jerked a thumb toward the skybridge door. ¡°That whole territory is claimed by us now. Supplies for a handful of guardians to survive for a very long time, and thousands of the sleeping. Waiting for when it¡¯s time to leave again.¡± He smiled at James. ¡°But until then, the machine feeds our home.¡± ¡±¡­the dungeon. Oh. Oh.¡± James slapped a hand into his forehead, awkwardly forgetting Zhu and slamming a bushel of feathers into his face too, much to the navigator¡¯s protest. ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t get it.¡± He said quietly. ¡°You¡¯re working for the dungeon.¡± ¡±For our home.¡± The shifter said with a tiny nod. ¡°It sustains us, but that means we need to give back. And this way¡­ everyone gets what they want. And our home must like it at least a little, because the directing dreams stop when we¡¯re working on the project.¡± He seemed incredibly proud of that. ¡±Symbiosis.¡± James muttered with a nod. ¡°Okay.¡± He heard the distant sound of a heavy metal door latch, and looked up to check the skybridge door. Still closed, so he had a moment at least. ¡°I¡¯ll make this quick and leave you to your thing. Here¡¯s our contact number.¡± He handed over a slim business card. ¡°We think it¡¯s okay that this is happening, but we want to open diplomatic channels. If you and your people could push for that, from the inside, it would help us help you. I¡¯ll tell you now, I¡¯m gonna advocate for honesty and open cooperation, but not if it hurts you or your home. I¡¯d also love to exchange information and maybe magic. At first glance, you seem cool and emotionally stable, so we can work together. Also¡­ if your people ever need a fallback¡­ the Order of Endless Rooms is there for you.¡± He met the shifter¡¯s human eyes as he handed over the card. ¡°I dunno if you have leadership or something, but please pass that on.¡± ¡±I¡­ I will.¡± The other man nodded. ¡°What now?¡± ¡±Now I pretend you rebuked me properly, go back and lurk with my friends, and then leave when your human-side boss comes back and tells me he¡¯s not interested in diplomacy. And then¡­ I dunno! Guess we¡¯ll see how it all shakes out!¡± That part was a little bit a lie. James had an idea of what would happen. There would be a long process of trying to convince the other side to open communications with the Order. There would be negotiations about their use of magic. There would be ethical checks. At some point, thing would happen. The Order would demand openly that the church stop using mental magic on or with anyone underage. There might be a fight about it. The identity of the nonhuman members of this project might come out. Things could get bad. He could see a bunch of paths forward. He could see a world where everyone saw reason and agreed that child abuse was bad. He could see a world where a bunch of monsters doubled down and tried to cover their tracks. He could see a world where there was a long drawn out in between time where things didn¡¯t really get worse but also didn¡¯t get better. James didn¡¯t like most of the options. And he had a solution; his normal solution to this sort of thing. Remove the enemy¡¯s ability to commit violence. In this case, through the removal of their spellbook that allowed for the brainwashing to happen in the first place. Oh, that wouldn¡¯t come close to stopping the abuse that was going on, but at the very least, it would stall out one particular problem before it could continue to fester and expand. If he was smart about it, then he could even do it without actually fighting anyone. Just a quick teleport in and out, and then, he could use the fireplace in his apartment for the first time in a while, and poof. Problem¡­ well, not solved, but alleviated. The thing was, the Order had never faced off against a group this large before. Thousands of people in stasis was a lot, but they weren¡¯t really part of the equation. But the number of people involved in things was unknown, and potentially very high. Hundreds, maybe actually thousands. And all of them were equipped with magic. Some of them would be victims of the mind-altering process, some of them would be very young victims, and neither of those things would stop them from trying to fight the Order if it came to it. James hated this, a lot. It sapped all the joy from exploring a new dungeon, from finding a new source of magic and weirdness. It felt¡­ too real. Too much like how humans just were sometimes. Horrible to each other, horrible to their kids, horrible to the world around them. And no matter how strong or powerful he got, he couldn¡¯t just wave his hand, solve the problem, and make people stop fucking each other over and get along. ¡±You¡¯ve been fuming a lot lately.¡± Zhu commented as James returned to the others, his distraction heading back their way too as Ink-And-Key and Rho finished taking video of the sliding hole in the dungeon but continued discussing what it possibly meant. ¡°You know, we could make some kind of imbued item that lets us suck spell slots out of people and just use that on all the elders that¡¯re doing the demon summoning? Would that make you feel better?¡± ¡±¡­probably.¡± James admitted. ¡°I doubt that would work though. Blue items don¡¯t¡­ uh¡­ Momo, what¡¯s the term for what blue items don¡¯t?¡± ¡±I just say metamagic cause Anesh used it once near me while he was talking to Cheha about Dungeons and Dragons and my brain is poisoned.¡± Momo shrugged. Anesh took the distraction from his worrying like a lifeline. ¡°You cannot blame me for that. Also what¡¯s the news?¡± ¡±Shapeshifters. Kind of a rubber or maybe liquid tar form? They look cool. Neat eyes. Not sure how romanceable they are yet. Oh, though¡­ I think at least one of the two I talked to might be an actual faithful. Like, he¡¯s converted, and is a true believer, even if he is still hiding his identity while he works on this whole thing. They¡¯re feeding the dungeon in what they believe is a safe, mutually non-lethal way.¡± He paused, and then gave Anesh a rueful smile. ¡°Also I can¡¯t lie, I was thinking the D&D thing too, for mostly the same reason, so Momo¡¯s free to blame you.¡± James grinned at his boyfriend. ¡±Treacherous wanker.¡± Anesh muttered, trying not to smile as he twisted to look up at the ceiling over James¡¯ head. ¡±Sure. Anyway, good suggestion Zhu, I¡¯ll consider it if it¡¯s workable. I¡¯m also open to ¡®just shoot them¡¯, or, more likely, ¡®enforced reformation¡¯.¡± James felt a wave of exhaustion that had nothing to do with any kind of magic, good or bad. Just a normal human faltering in the face of a normal human evil. He tried to smile. ¡°Who knows. It worked for the Horizonists, and the Alchemists. It could¡­ it could work for anyone. It really could. That¡¯s the point.¡± ¡±Restorative justice.¡± Anesh nodded sagely, clapping a hand on James¡¯ armored shoulder and squeezing through the armor. ¡°It¡¯ll work out. We¡¯ll find a solution.¡± ¡±We¡¯d better. Lincon can¡¯t even leave the city until we do. Or at least figure out how to dispel something.¡± James clicked his tongue. ¡°Hopefully, someone will listen, and we can set to gathering information about how to solve this from the root. Because¡­ I dunno about you guys, but I just don¡¯t want another fight. I really don¡¯t.¡± Momo either ignored or missed how tired James sounded, and raised her hand quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll take the fight!¡± She volunteered. ¡°I can do it! Put me in, coach!¡± ¡±Momo¡­¡± Anesh pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Momo.¡± James said bluntly. ¡°Stop it. Self defense is one thing, but we can¡¯t go around using violence to solve every problem.¡± ¡±Oh, so it¡¯s self defense if we¡¯re the ones being attacked, but if someone else is getting abused, it¡¯s just regular old murder?¡± Momo challenged him, unwilling to back down on this, even here in the middle of an unknown dungeon. ¡°Come on. They¡¯re already doin¡¯ a violence. Let¡¯s just break their legs and take their shit. We can sort out how to get them to stop being abusive monsters after.¡± It bothered James quite a lot that he didn¡¯t really want to disagree with her. Maybe it was cause he heard something similar from Alanna. ¡°I just¡­ want to try something else first.¡± He said. ¡±You already do what Momo is saying, though.¡± Keeka said, emerging out of nothing at Anesh¡¯s elbow and getting a quickly muffled terrified yelp from the human. ¡°You just don¡¯t think of it that way, because you do it to the Sewer. You¡¯ve always started fights for other people, as long as the other people looked like us.¡± ¡±I¡­ don¡¯t have a response to that, I guess.¡± James admitted. ¡°Alright. Everyone¡¯s here, we can argue this out later. Keeka, please don¡¯t do that again, but also good job, and anything we should know?¡± The lithe black ratroach perked up, antenna bobbing on his head at the praise. ¡°Lots of people. I didn¡¯t go far, they have¡­ um¡­ their own walls made of bags of something set up.¡± ¡±Sandbags? They built a bunker or something?¡± James tapped his lips. Anesh hummed lightly. ¡°It makes sense. They¡¯ve set up to defend that tower. What else, Keeka?¡± ¡±People. People in cars. Oh! All the cars are the same, as far as I could see. And they¡¯re like the wrong ones out here. They put blankets in them and laid people down and they¡¯re just staying there. Lots of them. Oh! They have special ones for dogs! They have lots of dogs too!¡± That checked out with what the shapeshifter had told James. Which meant at least one piece of verifiable information had come out of this. But every piece was making the bigger picture come together a little bit more coherently. For one thing, it was generally a point in favor of these people that they¡¯d not only brought families, but the family pets as well. James and Zhu had noted it early on that some of the empty homes had dog stuff, but no dog, and now they had at least a little confirmation where they¡¯d gone. And that was weirdly comforting. Because no one who was a complete asshole would devote resources both mundane and magic to making sure their companion animals survived the end times. So they had this group, stockpiling humans - among other creatures - in their little guarded dungeon ark. And this group had three factions; church, dungeon life, and dungeon life who had earnestly joined the church. Then there was the ¡®make younger people into the perfect believers and maybe weapons¡¯ group. As far as their investigation knew, that group didn¡¯t have any ongoing schisms inside it, except that some of them were also part of the ark group. Which might mean there was a fourth ark faction, just for that overlap. Then there was a pillar that didn¡¯t care, another pillar that had sent one of his daughters to poke around, all the kids who were victims that had gotten out of control and imprisoned, all the kids who were victims and still trapped in the ongoing action, and also at least one guy planning a gold heist. James did not care about the guy planning the gold heist. James was prepared to help with the gold heist at this point. He¡¯d have to plan the bullion acquisition later, though, as the door opened again, and Robertson walked back out, looking around with uncertainty, talking to a couple of people with him as he landed his eyes on James and started walking over. There were a lot of subtle and not-so-subtle cues James picked up on as the man approached them, but the clear picture was someone who was having an abrupt meeting with doubts that he hadn¡¯t known he¡¯d been harboring. ¡±Paul.¡± James greeted him as he approached the group, motioning for his friends to hang back. ¡°Here to tell us to leave?¡± ¡±Maybe.¡± The man said. ¡°Maybe. Let me ask you something.¡± He took a long breath, ignoring the fumes hanging in the air. ¡°One of my advisors suggested that I shoot you in the back and throw you over the edge. Why do you think that is?¡± James¡¯ smile turned brittle, but didn¡¯t vanish. He had a bad habit of smiling or laughing when he was threatened with death. ¡°At a guess? He¡¯s one of the people involved in the child mind control side of things.¡± Robertson nodded, scraping fingers through his receding hairline. ¡°If you¡¯d just walked in and told me, I wouldn¡¯t believe you.¡± He said, speaking mostly to himself it seemed. ¡±Well yeah-¡° Momo started to say, before Ink-And-Key wisely stopped her with a panicked glance. The man continued without really paying the comment any mind. ¡°And I didn¡¯t believe you. But that¡¯s real, isn¡¯t it?¡± He gave a tired laugh. ¡°You want an alliance. Like we¡¯re feudal lords and not all US citizens. And you think I¡¯ll say yes eventually.¡± ¡±I think¡­¡± James idly set a hand on Arrush¡¯s arm as the ratroach shifted uncomfortably next to him. ¡°I think we¡¯d like to think all friction between groups, whether they¡¯re like us, or normal, is a matter of a lack of shared values. But it isn¡¯t that simple. Resources, trust, convenience, it all adds up to make getting along harder. I think that you seem like a guy who wants to do the right thing, and that you think you know what the right thing is. And I want to sell you on the idea that stopping your counterparts is the right thing.¡± ¡±Not everyone here even knows.¡± Robertson said, turning his head to look at the group of armed guards who were all carefully watching the renewed negotiation. ¡°It¡¯s not their fault. And even for people who are at fault, not all of them are evil men.¡± ¡±Let me be clear on something.¡± James said, holding up a flat hand. ¡°We don¡¯t need anyone to be killed, or even punished. The only thing that matters, is that the harm stops.¡± ¡±If we agree to talk to you, you won¡¯t take our word on it, will you?¡± Robertson asked, before answering his own question. ¡°Well. Shoot, I wouldn¡¯t. Russel wouldn¡¯t cooperate. I don¡¯t even know how you¡¯d start. Even just the police¡­¡± He trailed off. James refrained from shrugging, instead projecting what he hoped was an attitude of competence. ¡°We have a division called Recovery. They¡¯re experts in a lot of fields, and they¡¯d be doing an audit. Making sure there¡¯s no teenagers kept in cages anywhere, confiscating any tools being actively used, setting up reporting, that kind of thing.¡± ¡±Confiscating.¡± ¡±Technically, the goods will be held in trust.¡± James said evenly. ¡°The spellbook that enforces belief, for example. At the time when the original owner shows that they can and should be trusted with it again, it would be returned. But that¡¯s a detail to work out with Recovery; I know the broad outline, but not the specifics.¡± Paul tried to meet James¡¯ eyes, and found he couldn¡¯t keep his gaze on the younger man. Instead, his vision slipped to the side, but all he found was a series of inhuman figures watching him. Or watching James. Neither contained, nor hostile, it seemed. Quickly unsettled, he ended up staring at the concrete beneath his sneakers for a good twenty seconds before raising his head. ¡°What do we get out of this? Really. Sell it to me. Make it good. I have the authority to agree to a lot, but I¡¯ll need to give the quorum something.¡± Anesh cleared his throat. ¡°Mr. Robertson¡­ ah, hello, Anesh Patel.¡± He offered a handshake, and got a rapid one in return. ¡°The good news is, we do have something to offer you. Help.¡± ¡±Yeah!¡± Momo said, having been let free and now hugging Ink-And-Key from behind so she could speak without interruption. ¡°You think we have a Recovery branch for show?¡± ¡±Mh.¡± Anesh nodded, keeping Robertson¡¯s attention. ¡°What my partner is dancing around is that we are already prepared to support you. Support. Help. Expertise. More magic, more chances. We¡¯re already planning to try to keep whatever apocalypse is inbound from actually occuring, but we won¡¯t lie and say we even know what the shape of it is yet. So having a fallback plan for life on Earth is a simple good idea. We want to save lives, and if nothing terrible happens and this isn¡¯t needed, no one dies, correct? It¡¯s just an oddly placed bollard in a lot of lives. But against the oncoming risk, it makes sense to have a backup. So we¡¯d like to do what it takes to make sure this succeeds, and that means committing our time and resources to help you. Recovery will have a more detailed breakdown when you talk to them, as James has told you, we¡¯re simply the invitation and not the ones with all the numbers. But what do you get? Well¡­ you get our help. And our help works. All it takes to get us to really commit is to compromise on a few values.¡± ¡±Values like our faith.¡± Paul frowned. ¡°I can tell. Hear it in the way you talk. You¡¯re trying very hard to not say some particular things.¡± ¡±No.¡± James cut in firmly. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not my favorite thing in the world, I¡¯ll admit. And yeah, I¡¯ve had to negotiate my language a bit. But that¡¯s not the problem. The things we¡¯ll ask you to compromise on will be diversifying your collection of people. Both within humanity, and outside of it.¡± He jerked his head toward Arrush. ¡°As you can see, you might have been misinformed about the real nature of life in places like this.¡± ¡±Or the lie was convenient to you.¡± Arrush added, which got a flinch from Robertson. He still stood his ground. ¡°The fact remains, you want us to act like you.¡± ¡±Obviously. And you want us to act like you. So we¡¯ll compromise, and try to work toward a better future anyway. Like, the ideal rate of traumatized children is zero, for example. The ideal amount of racism is zero. I would hope you agree with that.¡± He raised his eyebrows. Maybe James shouldn¡¯t have phrased it that way, because Paul dug his heels in with his response. ¡°By your definition of those terms.¡± ¡°If you try to tell me you have an alternate definition for child abuse that excuses something that has been psychologically proven to traumatize children, I¡¯m throwing you off the side of the building.¡± Momo answered eagerly before James replied. Not that he really disagreed with her But the look in Momo¡¯s eyes as she stared down the leader of this conspiracy caught him off guard. There was something there that said that she wasn¡¯t kidding about her willingness to hurt him if he stepped over that line, and while it was threatening, it was also strangely comforting to meet someone who wore their convictions openly. So Paul¡¯s answer backed off a bit. ¡°I¡¯m trying to make sure that you aren¡¯t just going to move the goalposts as soon as you get what you say you want.¡± And now they were back in territory James could be diplomatic within. ¡°Oh. I mean, we can work with that.¡± He shrugged casually. ¡°Clear definitions and proper communication is the key to basically everything. I¡¯m not¡­ like, to be clear, I¡¯m not trying to trick you here. I¡¯m not using sneaky definitions to try to screw you. I¡¯m just gonna tell you what we want and go from there. Like, I¡¯ll tell you right now that we want you to accept nonhuman life as valuable. It¡¯s not hard.¡± ¡°Like the demons that came with you.¡± ¡°See, don¡¯t say that. That¡¯s shitty of you. Also even if the things from the other dungeon are actually demons, none of the five species that came in here are that.¡± James held back from sighing, not wanting to cough again. And the small moment gave him a bit of perspective; this guy, at least, was just saying ¡®demon¡¯ because it was his default. It wasn¡¯t like he was some kind of discount gentleman thief that was actively needling them. So maybe James shouldn¡¯t take it quite so personally. ¡°Look. You and I both know something is rotten in your church. We don¡¯t need to burn the whole thing down, but we need the core problem to stop. After that¡­ we¡¯ll have a platform to keep working together. Or to go our separate ways, having left the world slightly less shitty in our wake. How¡¯s that sound?¡± He extended a hand to shake. Robertson looked down at the offered hand, and back at James. Back around at the people in a loose group in front of him and then behind him at the people watching. Lowering his voice, he leaned marginally closer to James in a way he hoped wouldn¡¯t be suspicious. ¡°I¡¯ll call your number later.¡± He muttered, before leaning back and speaking up. ¡°No.¡± The simple word got a defeated look from Anesh and Momo, though the others just looked more or less like they¡¯d expected it, really. ¡°I¡¯ve heard you out, I¡¯ve talked to my people, and we¡¯re not interested in what you think you have to offer. Now. Please leave, like you agreed to.¡± James met his eyes, for just a moment, and saw a worry there. Or maybe a fear. But he nodded anyway, and stepped back. ¡°Well. Can¡¯t say you didn¡¯t at least give us a shot. Good luck with your ark.¡± He turned, and started walking away, making sure his shield bracers were set to the guns behind him in case one of the people who¡¯d suggested shooting him in the back tried it themselves. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go.¡± He called to the others, the group falling in around him. ¡±What the hell?¡± Zhu asked as they started the long trek up the steep ramp. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± ¡±That¡¯s it.¡± James said. ¡°He doesn¡¯t trust the people in here with him. So we¡¯ll have the real negotiation later. Preferably with Texture-Of-Barkdust or someone more competent than my stupid ass leading it.¡± He added with a chuckle. ¡±That went well.¡± Rho stated, claws clicking on the concrete as the group left. ¡°Should we explore more before leaving? We do not know what this dungeon produces yet.¡± James really, really wanted to. But he also wanted to be responsible. And he could already tell that Anesh was flagging, Ink-And-Key had been nervous the whole time, and Momo was practically limping from the pain that the hike had caused her. ¡°We¡¯ll come back later.¡± He said, tipping his chin up to look at the hundred feet of forty five degree slope he still had to climb. On just this ramp. ¡°I¡¯m in the best shape of my life and I¡¯m already tired just looking at this.¡± He complained out loud. The hike out was good for at least a few things. They confirmed, over the longer trek back that took more time both because they were starting to get tired and also because a lot more of it went up, that the dungeon hadn¡¯t shifted around. Maybe it would over a longer period of time like the Climb seemed to, or maybe it would be static like the Stacks were. Either way, it hadn¡¯t changed while they were in it, which meant no need to painfully teleport out and a safe way to plot for exit strategies. They also got more evidence that combat didn¡¯t translate to magic here. It was because of a traffic cone ambush that had come when three of the toothy rubber bastards had dropped off the ceiling where they were hanging like stalactites. The ambush hadn¡¯t been a very good one, because it turned out even when they were stained with oil marks, bright orange traffic cones didn¡¯t blend in well among the ridged concrete and boxy ventilation pipes. But after they¡¯d been dispatched, nothing had changed. ¡°Anyone else feel like they¡¯re about to level up?¡± Momo asked. ¡±No? Do you? Oh no, are you sick? Did you hit your head? We need help, Momo has become delirious.¡± Ink-And-Key instantly began fussing over the girl as Momo tried to walk back her joke. But James had tried to focus inward anyway, just to make sure he didn¡¯t feel like he was about to cross an invisible experience line. Nothing. Just simmering anger and a desire to get home and take a shower. It was, of course, possible that the dungeon gave out rewards at thresholds; the Underburbs hadn¡¯t rewarded him for every kill after all. Only the impressive ones, or the ones that stacked up. It was entirely possible that whatever this dungeon had to offer in terms of magic was both plentiful and easy to acquire, and that they were just missing a lot of it because they were covering the same ground that thousands of other people had already walked. So James was really excited to come back to this place in the future when things settled down. He talked with Rho and Arrush about it for a bit, the two being the ones most interested in the experience of dungeons and also the two who were least out of breath as they walked. Well, James and Rho talked. Arrush would run out of breath if he spoke, so he listened and nodded eagerly. They wanted to rappel down the outside of one of the buildings and visit the¡­ rooftop? Ground? Whatever was below them. The flat open expanse. Rho had seen some things moving down there and the inhabitor sounded almost excited about the prospect of getting into fights with them. James was more interested in the Garden phenomena, and less about the idea of mortal combat, but Rho was perfectly capable of not being a murderous machine, and if he happened to enjoy fighting when it did come down to it, that wasn¡¯t a mark against him. They all had ideas on what the magic source might be. They were all probably wrong, but bantering about it as a group when they took breaks on the walk back was at least a way to pass the time in an environment where it felt like all the threats had been taken care of long before they got there. On one of those breaks, Momo and Ink-And-Key spent some time fiddling with one of the oddly reconfigured cars, while James and Anesh searched one of the perfectly normal cars, and both groups ended up learning something. For one thing, the cars here weren¡¯t. They just straight up weren¡¯t cars. James had tried to hotwire the not-quite-a-Jetta model he¡¯d picked, just to see what would happen, and it didn¡¯t take. Popping the hood, his orb granted skills had gone wild with irritation; this car didn¡¯t have a working engine. It had something that was dressed up to look engine-adjacent, but this wasn¡¯t¡­ a car. This would never run. He honestly doubted that the repair gas from the Horizon would even work on it. He¡¯d sworn at it while Anesh had found a roadside emergency kit in the back, and had made sure the flares weren¡¯t going to detonate on him before deciding to take it back to check out for dungeontech. Momo, meanwhile, had gotten her obviously-not-a-car to start almost easily, and then she and Ink-And-Key had fucked around trying different permutations of the dials on the dashboard and stuff from Momo¡¯s pockets placed in slots before finding a version that caused a loud whirring whine, followed by a chime and what would have been the glove box popping open to present one of the things Momo had given the machinery. Except the mostly empty tube of lip balm that had come out wasn¡¯t made of plastic anymore, but instead glass. Or at least, it looked like glass. Felt like glass. Broke like glass when Momo had hit it with a small hammer she apparently carried on her armor¡¯s utility belt. It just also happened to maintain the flexibility of plastic right up until it had shattered. Also the contents weren¡¯t affected, so Momo¡¯s hammer ended up kinda slimy. ¡±Well that¡¯s fucking cool!¡± Momo had commented, instantly beginning the process of emptying every pocket and pouch she had, and seeing if it was repeatable. Ten minutes later, she had two glass candy wrappers, one with the candy still inside, a coil of glass paracord, a glass red orb totem that didn¡¯t transform the orb and had stopped working when the material had shifted, a glass red orb itself which had transformed and gave Rho an emotional rank in joy when he offered to test it, a glass pair of nail clippers, three glass sharpies that still wrote just fine, and a glass wallet that she¡¯d stolen from one of the other cars. James stopped her before she started dumping leveler items into it. ¡±This is weird and neat, and it¡¯s cool to know at least one thing these things do. But we shouldn¡¯t wait here all day. The shield team is waiting for us.¡± ¡±Yeah, yeah, I just like fucking with magic. And switches! More things should have switches and I¡¯m tired of touchscreens. This is legit so fucking satisfying, you should try it!¡± Momo had waved to the dashboard, and then laughed at the look James and Zhu both gave her in perfect unison, before dragging herself out of the warped machinery disguised as a car. The rest of the trip back was smooth sailing. And before long, they were standing again by the elevator doors that would take them up, and out, back to Earth and the mundane world where their only worry was¡­ well, a violent magical church schism in motion. James kinda wanted to stay in the dungeon. The elevator took a few minutes to arrive, which the whole team made note of with caution. This was not a fast escape if they needed a fallback point. While it slowly crawled down toward them, James looked out again over the edge of the parking structure. Leaning on speckled white concrete, staring across to where black and green vines crawled up the side of a distant version of this same construct, watching clouds of smoke and vapor drift through the air overhead. He thought he saw something swoop past in one of those murky patches, but it might have been his imagination. Then their ride arrived, and James, Arrush, and Anesh had quickly moved the others and prepared an ambush in case there was something hostile in the elevator. But it was just an empty car, and they¡¯d all piled in with the standard delver caution. Hit the normal button for where they¡¯d come from. And ascended. ¡±Well this went¡­ way better than I expected.¡± James said with sigh, enjoying the cleaner air. ¡±Yeah, this was practically a miracle by our standards.¡± Anesh shouldered into his human boyfriend. ¡°You even got through it without starting a scrap!¡± Zhu¡¯s glow rippled with a few dark lines. ¡±Despite Momo¡¯s best efforts.¡± He shot out. ¡±Hey, I didn¡¯t say anything that wasn¡¯t true!¡± Momo protested. ¡±You also didn¡¯t say anything particularly helpful.¡± James said, keeping his tone neutral. In reality, Momo was a good contrary voice to have around. Someone who was more aggressive than him, to keep pushing him toward not settling into a status quo himself. But also, she was sometimes a headache, and definitely not tactful enough for a first diplomatic meeting. ¡°Anyway. Let¡¯s send our friends home, go check in on Lincon, clean up, and I¡¯ll make us all dinner. By which I mean I¡¯ll order us pizza or something. Cause my feet hurt.¡± James stretched. ¡°And if-¡° The elevator doors opened, and as soon as the first crack of light showed, everyone in the elevator had an alien thought punch across their minds. (Milestone - Initiation Crossing : +1 AP) James sucked in a surprised breath, a smile starting to form on his face. Maybe the dungeon wasn¡¯t quite so stingy with- (Breathing : +1 Level) (1 AP spent, 0 AP remains) ¡±Oh fuck off.¡± ¡°So rude.¡± ¡°Mean!¡± ¡°Bloody ripoff!¡± ¡°I am not surprised but I am sad now.¡± ¡°God dammit.¡± And a single annoyed bark all spilled out of the elevator before the delvers themselves did, coming as a mild surprise to the armored Order forces stationed there as guards. Only one person didn¡¯t complain. Instead, Arrush lingered just a moment behind the rest of them, looking down at several of his paws that weren¡¯t holding weapons, slowly clenching and unfolding claws as he took a deep breath. It hurt slightly less. Not because anything had physically changed, just that he was reflexively breathing in a way that wasn¡¯t quite so consistently painful. ¡±I don¡¯t mind this one.¡± He whispered to himself as he followed the others. James heard him anyway, and turned to look back at his partner as his face morphed from annoyance to a beaming smile. He hadn¡¯t thought of it, but for a lot of people, Arrush included, breathing would be a superpower of sorts. So maybe this dungeon wasn¡¯t too much of a cheater after all. ¡±Wait, Zhu, what did you get?¡± Anesh asked as Keeka descended on his original boyfriend to poke and prod and make sure he was alright. Zhu imitated a ruffling sigh. ¡°Glowing.¡± He said. James nodded. That checked out. But they¡¯d talk about it, and the bizarre mechanism of this particular dungeon, a little later. For now, he wanted to check on their security perimeter, and get out of here. ¡°Hey Evans! Anything happen while we were gone?¡± ¡±Yes, sssssssir.¡± The kid pulled a face as he realized halfway through that he was about to say something that would annoy James, before committing to the honorific. James just laughed, too busy being in a good mood now to take it personally, not that he¡¯d really be angry anyway. ¡°A group of three delvers came through. Young, maybe fifteen at most. We tried to warn them off, but they were insistent, and I made the call to let them through. Didn¡¯t want to fight kids.¡± ¡±Understandable. We¡­didn¡¯t see anyone on the way back, though. That¡¯s weird. But they might have gone a different direction.¡± ¡±They did. They went up.¡± Evans said, pausing as James tilted his head sideways in a question. ¡°The elevator. When you got in, it went down. When they got in? It went up.¡± ¡±¡­Huh.¡± James checked his timer, following an idle hunch. ¡°How long have you been here?¡± He asked Evans. ¡±Almost two hours.¡± The Order guard answered quickly. ¡°Time dilation?¡± The new combat forces were certainly new, and might not quite feel like part of the Order yet; might be too much like soldiers for James to be fully comfortable with them. But they sure weren¡¯t stupid. James nodded. ¡°Looks like about fifty percent, it was closer to four hours for us. I wonder¡­ if it rotates between dungeons¡­¡± He looked back at the broken down and taped off elevator. Out of order, read the protective sign. ¡°My brain isn¡¯t quite doing the math on if that¡¯s enough to be incredibly useful, or if that¡¯s less than the Office already is.¡± ¡±The Office is a huge leap up from that, but only within the specific window of when the entrance is open, much like the Stacks.¡± Anesh said, unbuckling his armor as he came to James¡¯ math rescue. ¡°If this is consistent, we could get quite a lot more value out of it consistently. As long as someone is willing to work riding a cargo elevator up and down all day.¡± ¡±People do worse jobs.¡± Evans pointed out. ¡°Are we done here?¡± ¡±We¡¯re done here.¡± James nodded. ¡°Our group is heading back to the safehouse. Will you be staying in Utah?¡± ¡±Yes sir.¡± The comment slipped out reflexively, and again James let it slide. ¡°We have our own place to stay. We¡¯ll be at your disposal for as long as you¡¯re here, until the problem with the kids is solved.¡± He said it like he was giving a simple report, but James could hear the hot emotion under the words. And it was comforting, to know that he wasn¡¯t the only one who was pissed at the injustice happening here. It was also comforting to know that the other people who were pissed had the big guns. James offered an agreeing nod, and then went and rounded up his party for a group teleport. He ignored Zhu and Momo bantering about dungeon magic, barely heard Ink-And-Key starting to form a theory with Anesh about the dungeon¡¯s method of ¡®cheating¡¯, and instead just took simple comfort from Arrush and Keeka flanking him and leaning into him with their paws making contact with his for the teleport. He was smiling as they vanished. Happy with the people around him, happy to have actually made progress today, happy to have seen a new dungeon. There was so much wrong, and so many things to fight and fix and work on, but he wasn¡¯t sitting still. He was alive, and in motion, and after he recovered with some pizza and a shower he¡¯d be ready to throw himself back into it. At least, that¡¯s what he was thinking when he reappeared in the rented house. The intruder standing in the living room, already in the process of shooting James, might have had other ideas. Chapter 296 ¡°As the size of an explosion increases, the number of social situations it is incapable of solving approaches zero.¡± -Vaarsuvius, Order of the Stick- _____ One of the interesting things about shield bracers was their limitation. From an academic perspective, it was a fascinating look at how magic could often be arbitrary in its precision. The shield would always form .835 meters away from the center of the bracer, unless a shift was required to encompass part of the wearer. This was especially helpful for camraconda knights, but it started to become hard to predict at that point. Still, you could, with reliable confidence, say that a shield bracer would manifest its domed panes of light to intercept incoming attacks before they actually hit you. No matter what shape you were, your bracer would either be entirely predictable, or slightly chaotic within the bounds of doing its job of being a magical shield. The limitation, then, was that if you switched what the bracer was blocking while that thing was within the minimum of .835 meters, the bracer wouldn¡¯t actually see it. In practical terms, and in the Order¡¯s continually expanding and developing training plan, this didn¡¯t really matter. The time it took something to close a two foot gap was often shorter than the reflex time for any of the knights, whether they were human, camraconda, ratroach, or Ben. It was always possible to swap blocking modes in preparation for a strike, but once something crossed that line, you had to make your own arrangements for either dodging or getting hit. This had led to a discussion within the Order¡¯s ranks on whether or not it was possible to bypass shield bracers by having attacks only start from inside their bounds. Preliminary research - which was to say, the easy tests - said yes. If your bracer was set to stop a bladed weapon strike, and your opponent moved a knife inside the bracer¡¯s range slowly enough to not trigger it, they could stab you all they wanted. There were a bunch of other tests planned for the next week or two that James knew of from one of his side jobs as ¡®Research proposal sanity checker¡¯, each of them getting increasingly convoluted and most of them containing the justification that the Order might one day need to fight someone with similar abilities. It might be possible to save time on at least one of them, though. Fresh from a very relaxed dungeon delve and successful diplomatic contact, riding high on the gained information about not one but two dungeons, happy to be well on the way to closing off one thread of the ongoing tangled mess happening around here, James and the rest of his party teleported back into the living room of their rented AirBNB suburban home. Already in flight and inside the radius of the twenty shield bracers massed around him, nothing did anything to stop the bullet before it hit James in the head. Training helped with a lot of thing. Practice drilled reflexive uses of magic and tactics in, made it possible to react smoothly and without second guessing to a lot of situations. Dungeon delving gave hands on experience with handling bizarre situations, that just weren¡¯t possible to predict or train for. But neither of those things could prepare someone for pain. People got stung in training or hurt on delves, but there was simply no way to be ready for the nuclear agony of being shot in the face. James reeled backward, leg clipping a dining room chair as his hands tried to grab something but found only air, and he crashed to the floor with every coherent thought smashed into fragments. Around him, he vaguely processed that some of the others were screaming, pained sounds of shock and injury briefly being the only thing that could be heard. He might have been screaming too. He was definitely screaming too. A hoarse yell that was louder than he ever raised his voice ripping out of his throat. And in the aftermath of the pained yells and the tailing end of gunshots, James heard a mildly surprised man speak up. In the same tone that a person would use to say that their microwave dinner was tastier than they¡¯d anticipated. ¡°Huh. Didn¡¯t expect that to work.¡± ¡±God points, we shoot. Told you.¡± Said another man James couldn¡¯t see from where he¡¯d landed on the hardwood floor, before the speaker raised their own voice to bellow. ¡°All of you drop your weapons, and get on the ground!¡± His own yell was rapidly joined by others, men with guns pointing at the members of the Order team that were still on their feet yelling for surrender. Half of them were shouting contradictory commands, as footsteps from upstairs indicated that more of the intruders were on the way. Anesh was still standing, frozen in confusion and fear, his bullpup rifle held at ease on his chest as he wanted to keep it secure during the teleport. The fact that his friends had been shot only started to dawn on him after people began shouting at him to drop the gun. After even the fact that someone had shot him, they¡¯d just barely managed to graze his armor. The fact that people were shouting at him only barely made it to the part of his brain that actively processed information after one of them tried to shoot him again. He must not have dropped his rifle fast enough, because one of them pulled the trigger. And then the others, still shouting, still with their pistols leveled, did the same Shield bracers had, apparently, one big flaw. But every other time, they worked. And the flare of golden light as his intercepted the bullet aimed at his chest snapped Anesh back to the present real fast. Anesh started moving. Pulling speed from James through their relationstick link let him know that his love was alive, so that was a burden off his heart at least. And James wouldn¡¯t be needing that right now as much as Anesh did. As he brought his gun up, Anesh was doing math in his head; eleven shield bracers on their side that he knew of, averaging twenty charges banked each. Six - no, seven men - with more approaching, five of them with what looked like standard fifteen round magazines. Two had rifles, Anesh didn¡¯t know how many bullets those had, but it couldn¡¯t actually be enough. The conclusion : the enemy would need to reload before the shields ran out. He let his eyes flick over the scrambled space. Keeka was on the floor with Arrush trying to drag the smaller ratroach behind the door to the basement stairs. Momo was holding her stomach and hunched over, but still standing next to him. Rho was bleeding on the floor but conscious so the inhabitor would be fine. Ink-And-Key had been facing the opposite direction in their teleport circle and was only just starting to twist around. And in the corner of the living room behind the attackers, Lincon sat in the house¡¯s plush armchair, half his face covered in blood, a gag in his mouth. Anesh would need to be careful about that. Bullets splashed against their shields as he let the coldly analytical part of his mind take over and brought the rifle up to his shoulder. He was terrified, but there wasn¡¯t time to be terrified, only to loosely feel it from a great distance. Panic and anger weren¡¯t his tools. Instead, he needed patience, and clarity. The gun slid into a firing position. The bullets from the enemy stopped. Anesh opened his eyes, the flickering of the shield no longer able to ruin his vision, and sighted on the nearest person in his line of fire. The man had a strong, boxy chin, with just a bit of five o¡¯clock shadow. He looked like someone who would have made a good addition to a community football team; tough, but with a composed vibe to him that could have felt comforting in most situations. Anesh wondered, maybe, vaguely, if this person had a family. A wife and kids, parents he talked to every weekend, anything. Then Anesh put a five round burst through his target. The spray of inky black liquid against the wall next to the fireplace indicating good penetration on at least some of the rounds, as the man dropped. If the missing chunk of brain didn¡¯t kill him instantly, the shock and blood loss would get him eventually. Assuming whatever type of dungeon life he was had blood or brains. Anesh pivoted, leaning into the recoil, and picked another target. Momo didn¡¯t fight calmly. Momo realized pretty quickly she¡¯d been hit, and that her bracers were going off. She also knew from the totem on her that there were nine hostile humans in the building, which meant there were at least nine enemies. Instead of getting her bearings, Momo turned her hobble into a lunge and a roll, ducking behind the couch and forcing anyone who wanted to shoot her to approach at a weird angle. Or shoot through the couch. But that was what bracers were for. A line of sharpened floating pencils trailed after her out of the coat she¡¯d kept on over her armor, her self-made tricks fanning around her head like a crown as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Before she could actually do that, though, some fat asshole with an assault rifle ran down the stairs and took the u-turn needed to run toward where the fight was happening. Lined up with Momo, she decided as a spur of the moment thing that this guy didn¡¯t get to participate in - or live through - the fight. Pave wasn¡¯t a hugely impactful spell. If Momo had to rank it against traditional fantasy spells, she¡¯d put it underneath the classic magic missile. But if you¡¯d been using the crown that compacted your Velocity, and if you aimed well, it could be a little dangerous. So she spread her fingers in the guy¡¯s direction and put three overcharged paves into his throat and one more into his dick just in case. It wasn¡¯t purely spiteful; that kind of debilitating pain would keep him down long enough for her to go kick his teeth in if she needed to. As bullets flew overhead in both directions, she saw the next guy coming down the stairs pause at the sound of his buddy¡¯s flesh pulping. A second later, he wasn¡¯t there, and a slither of grey fog snaked its way through the bannister and down into the front hallway where the man reappeared. Momo threw a flashbang pilfered from a Townton police station his direction and slammed her eyes shut, but after the concussive bang added to the cacophony of battle, she looked again to see that he was right in front of her and apparently unharmed. He¡¯d lost his gun though, but that didn¡¯t stop him from snagging Momo¡¯s throat with a barely visible grey line, and snapping her with a forced movement to her feet as her unarmored neck slammed into his outstretched hand. She gave a gurgling panicking squeal and tried to punch him in the face, but he caught her wrist and twisted in a way that brought more tears to her eyes. And then he froze. Ink-And-Key found that he couldn¡¯t speak. Someone had put a bullet through the compact and durable router that he used for his arms and voice. And usually, that wasn¡¯t a big deal; he didn¡¯t think of himself as disabled, exactly, but there were certain considerations for what he needed technological help to do. The skulljack let him do more than normal, and that was useful. He could rely on it. And now someone had taken that away. Violently. Which was, of course, always going to be how people tried to take from him, if it came to it. Ink-And-Key was a shy person, a cautious person, and a very wary person. But he was also, sometimes, in quiet moments where he wouldn¡¯t be a problem for anyone else, very angry at the fate he¡¯d been handed. In this moment, that anger shifted to the people who had done this. Were doing this. Not just to him, but to the people who understood him and helped. And Ink-And-Key was furious. One of the riflemen locked up before whatever magic he was weaving could let him dodge Anesh¡¯s gunfire, and then died. Ink-And-Key let the corpse drop, the object no longer required to be locked in place. He swept on to the next shooter, moving right to left and flickering his vision to force them to falter and pause, every irising of his lens having an outsized effect on the actual incoming damage as he weaponized confusion. And then someone was strangling Momo. And Ink-And-Key was going to kill that one. His vision locked on them as he started slithering forward as fast as he could. His own shield bracer must be dry, because a pair of bullets hit him in the side as he rushed the enemy mage, cables snapping and his unique form of blood spattering sideways. It hurt, and he screamed. But if it would be a problem, it would have to be later. Right now, he needed to focus. At his height, he actually had to duck his head down to bury fangs in the attacker¡¯s exposed arm. The texture of skin and too much body hair awkwardly disgusting against his tongue coiled in his mouth as Ink-And-Key pumped venom into the target. Letting go, he ¡®blinked¡¯ just long enough to let it take effect, the paralytic and mild muscle relaxant causing the man¡¯s grip on Momo¡¯s throat to slip and the girl to jerk away from him. Momo¡¯s own anger came with jamming all eight of her sharpened floating pencils up into her assailant''s throat as soon as she realized that she could do that. Being choked had driven her into a flurry of terror that had locked her out of actually planning, but now, she was at least capable of fighting back. Which she did by grabbing one of her floating tools and wrenching it out of the man¡¯s neck along with as much blood as possible. Then she paved him in the face, and dropped back from the immobile form to land behind the couch with Ink-And-Key. James blearily came to his senses to see Anesh crouch-walking and effortlessly carrying Rho¡¯s body in one arm, his boyfriend providing his own covering fire as he hauled the canine inhabitor behind the kitchen counter. Then he felt movement himself, claws scraping at his armor as someone tried to haul him backward, shield bracers still pinging off 9mm or .45 rounds as their attackers recovered from the retaliation. He tried to blink, and couldn¡¯t. Or he could, but it wasn¡¯t working properly. His eyelid slid down, but the light didn¡¯t change in half his vision. In a haze of pain and dizziness, James felt every small bit of the normally seamless sensation, and so he felt as his eyelid bumped over ruptured parts of his eyeball. Felt as blood mixed under the edge of the membrane with a hot sting. Felt when the layer of skin peeled back and popped up from its normal path as it met something metal wedged into where he was supposed to blink. The sensation of his eyelid not being fully closed, of the wet pop as it folded back over itself, and yet still not changing what he could see at all, sparked something in his brain. He¡¯d been shot in the eye. He couldn¡¯t blink because there was a bullet buried in the bridge of his nose and he couldn¡¯t see because that bullet had punched through his aqueous humor. This was, the delirious thought spun across his mind, worse than how he normally got shot. ¡°I seem to have hit my head.¡± He slurred out to Arrush, who frantically dropped him at the top of the basement stairs next to Keeka. James kept compulsively trying to blink as bullets started to shred the thin wood of the interior door behind them, scanning the downed ratroach quickly to see what had happened. Keeka had all four of his hands clutched around his throat, luminescent blue blood spilling out like thick gel from under his fingers as he frantically kicked to try to stand. Arrush was trying to get him to stay still, but Keeka was trying to get up and move; a lifetime of instincts on how to survive injury, how to survive fights, serving him poorly as the mortal wound leaked his life away. James grabbed at one of Keeka¡¯s shoulders with a fumbling hand, while his attention was spent on pulling out two blue orbs from his armor pockets. Handing them over, he watched carefully as Keeka cracked both blues with twitching fingers; if the first one had worked this would have been easier because James only had two of those and he could have used the other for himself. But it took both before the injury was replaced by bandaged stitches underneath the clasped paws. Hopefully it would be enough. The blue orb that gave medical treatment was close to a healing potion, but it really wasn¡¯t the same. It wasn¡¯t going to magically make the injury vanish, just treat it. Which meant Keeka wasn¡¯t going to be fighting, or even talking, for at least a little while. There was one surefire way to make sure it was enough, though. James, his head screaming with pain, grabbed his two most useful tools out of his armor. A telepad, and his phone. For once, this one time, when it mattered, neither of them had been shot. Though it didn¡¯t stop the shooting outside, as another bullet punched a splintered hole through the interior door and lit up his shield bracer. What he wanted his hands to be doing was clawing at his face, digging the bullet out of the bone where his nose met his eye socket, and then maybe punching something for catharsis. Instead he did his best to control the trembling of his fingers, scrawled the Lair¡¯s address on the telepad, and pressed it into Keeka¡¯s hands. Then he made a call. ¡±Operat-¡° ¡±JP. People are at our rental shooting at us. I¡¯m sending you Keeka, get him to medical. And send backup. I don¡¯t know how many are left and I need to go.¡± James didn¡¯t know how he got through that without his voice splintering. In truth, he had stammered and repeated at least three words, but even realizing what he was saying was a little beyond him at the moment. James didn¡¯t even hang up, the phone already having disconnected, instead keeping eye contact with Keeka and what he hoped was a firm look on his face. The smoothly chitinous ratroach stared back at him with wide eyes and a wordless whine. ¡±Y-you too!¡± Arrush raised his voice to be heard over the gunfire, pushing James with other knuckles of one of his offset paws, the rest of the appendage in use currently holding a knife. ¡°I wuh-will follow! Get our friends!¡± He set two of his hands on the door, armored chest heaving with a deep breath as he looked back at James and Keeka bleeding on the upper landing of the basement steps. ¡°Love you. Go.¡± James and Keeka gave in, and tore the telepad together. And were plunged into an icy grey void, a thorned vine of meaningless smoke holding them stuck fast with bronze brambles that had no color and flickered when looked at. Then they were still on the landing, the bullets that had been shot through the door slamming into the drywall over their heads inside the shield bracer radius. ¡±Ow.¡± James wanted to throw up, rolling sideways and gagging as Keeka made a clicking scream behind him. At some point, he must have been tagged with the same binding spell Lincon was under, whatever it was that kept him here. Not just in the region, but unable to use a telepad at all. ¡°Oh shit.¡± From his sprawled spot on the hardwood ledge, James saw through his remaining eye Arrush crouched next to the crack of the door, the mammal half of his eyes widening in a look of pure terror as James and Keeka failed to make their exit. His hands were clutching weapons, two of them holding the sword tight to his side while the stronger arms had drawn one knife and two batons. He started to flinch forward before another bullet punched through the door, and James realized that Arrush had turned off his shield bracers. Or run out. He hoped it was the first one. Out in the living room, the shooting died down, and a voice James didn¡¯t recognize shouted to be heard over what would certainly be a lot of ringing ears if they didn¡¯t have the same high quality ear protection that the Order always wore on delves. ¡°They¡¯re out! You three, around the house! Pin them down! Mark, get the ones that ran!¡± Heavy footsteps sounded, one set in particular closing across hardwood in a rapid dash as someone closed on the door. Arrush met James¡¯ eyes, partially opening his muzzle to say something, before he jerked to focused attention, took a deep breath, and made a gagging noise that set James¡¯ stomach roiling again. As the footsteps got right to the door, James braced his leg to catch the door when the intruder kicked it open, the wood slamming into his armored shin and stinging slightly but not doing much else. The heavyset bearded man didn¡¯t hesitate to raise his pistol at the two people laying injured on the floor, but James didn¡¯t bother to kick the door back at him, or exert himself at all. Because Arrush hit him an instant later. One of the folding batons coming down with enough force to break a wrist, and sending the too-slow reflexive shot into the man¡¯s foot instead of into James. The second baton hit to the yelling man hit him across the face, jerking his head back. Arrush pressed the advantage, turning into a flurry of strikes, but keeping his bladed weapons back as he brutalized the attacker. After one stunning hit staggered the man forward, James rolled onto his knees, grabbed the man¡¯s belt, and applied leverage to fling him down the stairs, at least one bone audibly snapping on the flight. The motion was enough to make him nauseous again, but he still tried to stand to help Arrush. Except the ratroach was already gone, out through the door, and into the fray. Arrush didn¡¯t know how he fought. In his past, so long ago he sometimes forgot it, it was with a feral need to survive. Then it was with all those ruthless instincts, but for someone, for Keeka, the alien sensation of protecting. Then it was alongside the Order. But the first time he¡¯d tried that, he¡¯d been¡­ not chastized exactly, but he¡¯d horrified them. The disregard for his own body, his own life, had been the catalyst to establish very clear foundations for training plans. And he had been improving, he could see it clearly. All the training, the drills, the practice, it helped him hone the knife of the self into something more durable. But despite having been on many delves since that first incident, Arrush hadn¡¯t ever really fought since then. They¡¯d gotten into small altercations, little skirmishes, but nothing like what he had grown up with. Nothing where it came down to kill or die, not really. The closest had been here in Utah, protecting Alice and Dance, and even then¡­ not really. Not quite the same. He was grateful for it. But also it meant he didn¡¯t know how he fought. Now he found out. Through his connection to James, he borrowed Breath. Not a lot, he didn¡¯t need a lot. Just enough to offload the backlash from a single use of Fractal Avalanche as he burst out of the door toward the men who were moving as a pack around the front hall toward the back entrance to the kitchen. For a moment, there were three of him, all of them racing forward to strike, one of them leaping over Momo¡¯s prone form while another dodged where Ink-And-Key was trying to stay low. Then someone shouted ¡°Demon!¡± And the shooting started again. One of him vanished, the spell that ensured that all three of the mirrored Arrushes were ¡®him¡¯ losing traction when he died. Then another one. Then the last. All three having popped like mirages when the invaders tried shooting them. The intruders had also nearly shot each other, the two groups firing at Arrush between them. They had bad tactics, he decided. He decided this as his Move Person use, the third of his chosen vectors and the reason that the second him had vanished, placed him in midair by the stairs, directly above the flanking group. Arrush fell into their midst, the vomit and chunk of one of his lungs that he had brought up into his throat spraying out into the faces of the two who were most likely to get their guns up on him. He tried to stab the one to his left, but the skinny man twitched with a grey outline where he¡¯d been, jerking just out of range of the knife. Then again. Then again. Arrush had disarmed one of the others and dropped a third as the screaming people realized he was among them and started to fight back, but still his target wouldn¡¯t stop dodging his knife. So he stopped trying, throwing his armored body backward as they tried to shoot him, shield bracer sparking with light as he hit the floor in front of the open front door, and rolled sideways into the small odd smelling room that led to the garage. They came running after him - the ones that still had their guns and weren¡¯t blinded - perhaps thinking that Arrush was running. Instead, the first one around the corner, Arrush hit in a full run. Move Person had put him back into position, and he was already moving, ignoring the problem of rapidly using blue orb powers. Claws and one knife sinking into skin and drawing a scream from the man, grey lines trying to make contact with Arrush¡¯s arms as he tore into his foe in the spare seconds, before he ducked an attempt to hit him in the head with the butt of a rifle. Coiled on the floor, one antenna cracked and stuck in his fur from the hit, Arrush exhaled. Tasting bitter bile and some of his own blood from where he¡¯d lost a tooth at some point, his eyes flicked across the remaining standing combatants; one of them trying to shoot through his shield, draining charges; one of them calling out his own sword, a mirror of Arrush¡¯s own to replace his lost gun; and one of them yelling out commands or demands or something. Arrush wasn¡¯t listening. He breathed, and spent his own Breath, cold making his chitin hurt more than normal where it tugged at the lines of his hide. Fractal Avalanche sending three of him out in a fan with the intent to meet by the front door, all three of him twisting as he rose up, bones and chitin popping as he leveraged half his body into a textbook perfect slash with the blade. One of his targets went down with a bloody slash across his chest, nonlethal but painful enough to put him out temporarily. The second man, the flickering one that was hard to hit, lit up; the sword wreathing itself in a similar grey flame that clashed in a frozen moment with his target, until the blade broke through and Arrush carried on past the man with hot blood splashing against his paws from the cut across the throat. The third one he never hit, instead one of the half dozen swan-necked furred demon things that erupted from a point in space took the strike, bleating in pain as it went down in Arrush¡¯s wake. Then he was one again, and a fourth man had the hot metal of a gun barrel pressed against Arrush¡¯s throat. But he wasn¡¯t moving, and Arrush jerked away, raking claws across the face frozen in place by Ink-And-Key who had sprawled flat on the hallway floor to get a vantage on the fight. Line of sight broke for just a second, and the bullet went into Arrush¡¯s abdomen, but it was a low priority concern right now. Dashing up the stairs in a crouched burst of speed, six limbs propelling him upward while one hand dragged the sword along, Arrush decided he wasn¡¯t going to bleed out from one low caliber bullet. His hand had broken at some point; claws weren¡¯t working properly, bent out of place. That would be for later. He kept low, disabling his bracers again as the screaming bleats of the demons filled the house, along with more gunfire from the kitchen where Anesh was still alive. That was good. Arrush liked Anesh. Bullets hit the wall overhead, shattering glass frames of hanging paintings and ruining drywall as Arrush scuttled upward. At the top of the stairs he threw himself flat, pulling his tails up out of sight, and triggering the invisibility effect on his earring. Rolled to the side, gripped the bannister in two claws, and prepared to throw himself over.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Then new shouting started. Six figures in familiar body armor flooding through two doors and one window, some of them rapidly and professionally restraining anyone who wasn¡¯t resisting while the others quickly pinned down and mopped up the fragmented survivors of the fight. Even the surviving demons, not at all capable of fighting at their full capacity indoors where their wings were better for knocking fragile glass off tables than for flying, got tackled or tasered, and zip tied. The demands for surrender from the others in the house were met with shouts in return, but no more shooting erupted. Arrush paused, backing off from the railing and starting to prepare himself for the crash that came after combat. ¡±Well heck, that¡¯s bad.¡± The voice nearly made him jump out of his chitin, a sandy blonde haired man that had been standing around the corner and peeking over to the foyer watching as the shield team retook the house. ¡°Okay. No problem. Sorry Mark! Three, two¡­¡± he gripped his gun, stepping out and becoming slightly easier to perceive, but still slippery even to Arrush¡¯s vision while Arrush was staring right at him as he spoke. The heavy revolver was leveled at one of the Order soldiers downstairs, something that looked like an army of grey thorns creeping from the man¡¯s hands into the gun. Arrush grabbed him from behind, yanking him around in a spin as he tried to throw the man into a pin, claws ripping through fabric and flesh on the way mostly by accident. The gunman hit the floor and rolled, bringing his revolver up to try to get a shot in, but Arrush had fallen with him, and in the close melee on the carpeted floor, wrestled for the firearm, all five arms coming to scratch and grab as he dropped the useless sword. The man under him screamed as Arrush¡¯s blood got onto his skin, jerking sideways and landing a punch that cracked the chitin of his snout before fumbling the pistol up and against Arrush¡¯s shoulder. Arrush grabbed his hand, meeting the man¡¯s eyes in a dead stare as they matched strength against each other. Until, bit by bit, the gun was twisted and pointed back at the invader. The human¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°No, no don-!¡± was all he got out, voice rising to a terrified scream, before Arrush¡¯s claw, sinking into flesh down to the bone, forced the trigger to pull. The recoil was bad, though not particularly worse than slipping during practice and getting kicked in the shoulder by Karen. But Arrush hadn¡¯t really expected the single shot to carve a two foot wide angled column through the house. Floor, carpet, ceiling, hanging lights, kitchen table, hardwood, basement, foundation, all of it burned in a flickering flash of ethereal fire. All that, and one of Arrush¡¯s arms that had been pinned by his target. And then it was gone, just a jagged hole that he was halfway to falling into before he used Move Person to put himself back on steady ground, about half the gunman¡¯s body meeting the same fate as the house. The dead man stared up at him with what remained of his face twisted in fear. Arrush stood back up on shaking legs, blood dripping from injuries he didn¡¯t remember getting, head spinning. He couldn¡¯t hear anything. He wasn¡¯t sure he could see anything; it was just afterimages of the fire. In a perverse twist, the singing pain from his missing arm felt good; like he¡¯d cut away something that had been wrong about himself. He tried to laugh, and made no sound. A hand moved into view in his peripheral, and Arrush almost exploded into motion again. But the shield team member moved slowly and carefully up from behind the panting and bleeding ratroach, gently edging into view with an open waving hand. And Arrush turned to stare blankly at the woman as she got his attention and closed on him quickly to catch him as he sagged. The armor hurt against the parts of his fur that were exposed from under his own damaged armor. It would probably hurt her too, his blood was going to get into the cracks and hurt her. Arrush tried to push away, and was instead gently guided down to the carpet to lay down. The shield was yelling something over her shoulder, but he couldn¡¯t hear any of it. He might actually have gone deaf, he didn¡¯t know. Maybe he¡¯d pushed too far. Or been too violent. Arrush wasn¡¯t sure. All he knew was that he¡¯d done what mattered. Kept the people who¡¯d come to kill them from getting to anyone else. All the tactics and the possibility space of combat narrowed and vanished from his thoughts, and he was left with just the feeling. The feeling of having done something good, and something bad, all in one. The feeling of pain, omnipresent but worse right now, and the feeling of hollow resignation in his chest. He was going to lay here, and rest for a little. _____ Through repeated orb use on top of more traditional education to fill in the gaps, Deb was edging closer and closer to being a supernaturally good doctor. Actually she was well past being supernaturally good; empowered by her authority (she had named them Scrub), by a few Climb spells, by access to shaper substance, and of course by the unending supply of yellow orbs, Deb was capable of filling almost any role that a hospital would need short of brain surgery. And that was only a matter of time. Deb¡¯s position as medical leader earned her quite a lot of the Order¡¯s internal and unnamed currency, almost all of which she put back into either known copies of relevant yellows, or just piles of untested yellows when she¡¯d exhausted the current supply. Most of them didn¡¯t pan out, though she did know how to kayak now and it sounded fun enough. She¡¯d also managed to quickly advance the Sewer lesson she had for writing from a long time ago. The writing lesson offered Study, Understanding, or Poise, and it was notable for being a fairly simple concept, that was the first one they¡¯d seen that shared offered stat upgrades with other lessons. Deb had picked Poise first so her back hurt less after a whole day on her feet, and it seemed like a good plan so far, and Study second so that she could do more of that, which also seemed to be making her faster at reading research reports if nothing else. No part of the lesson made her handwriting better though, which she assumed was some kind of naturally occuring doctor curse. All this was to say that she was making use of the magic the Order had, in a way that was different from most knights. In a very deliberate and targeted way, to make herself the best at something specific. It was a work in progress. Deb wanted to be the kind of healer that could snap her fingers and make injuries disappear, but on that front she was continually shown up by random blue orbs. Still, she was good at things no orb could do, and when it did come to treating immediate injuries, she had the advantage of not needing a resource that was scarce for the Order. Momo had serious damage to her trachea, having been grabbed by the throat and thrown around twice in the last twelve hours. She was going to have serious bruising, might need steroid treatment if things got worse, and Deb suspected that she was also dealing with at least a few cracked ribs. She¡¯d also been shot, the bullet going through her armor but slowed enough to hit nothing vital. She was also only the third most injured person from the Order Deb had to deal with. Or maybe third easiest would be the best way to put it. She was human, which meant all of Deb¡¯s easily acquired magical skill ranks did their job at full power, and she knew exactly how to check the airway, check for a concussion, bandage the wound, and prescribe a course of antibiotics that Mercy would make sure Momo actually would not be able to forget about. She didn¡¯t though, she left that to Aaron, who was competent enough to do all of that and needed to learn how to put that knowledge into practice. Ink-And-Key was harder. But Deb had real hands on experience with treating camraconda injuries. Still, the giant camraconda presented a unique challenge; the bullets that were lodged in him¡­ might not be a problem. Deb actually didn¡¯t know. Only two shots had hit through his armor, but they were sunk into cabling, having left damage in their wake. That would be easy to fix; camraconda cables were semi-organic, and clamping them back into place before wrapping with a degradable adhesive would allow them to heal. But she didn¡¯t know how bad the internal damage was, and unlike with a human where the answer was easy, Deb didn¡¯t know if rooting around inside Ink-And-Key¡¯s body for the projectiles would make things better or worse. So she hadn¡¯t done anything for them. Or rather, she¡¯d done what made her a good leader rather than just a competent one, and handed the task off to someone who could do better than her. Warmth-Of-Sunshine was a proficient medical helper, and once he was no longer needed to hold Momo in place, Deb put him with Delia, a human who¡¯s authority had the unique ability to replicate something like an x-ray. They would sort Ink-And-Key out, and either solve the problem themselves, or get Deb back for more serious surgery. Which left Arrush. Well, it didn¡¯t just leave Arrush, but he was the most critical in their triage. Others were hurt too, Order and otherwise. And the medical team that had deployed to the site in an unprepared rush was doing their best to make sure no one died that hadn¡¯t already. There were surprisingly few deaths, most of them apparently being attributable to Anesh¡¯s ruthlessness in the moment. The fight had gone as a lot of fights tended to; people got hurt and either dropped or ran, and the real death toll would come later when untreated wounds caught up to their bearers. Arrush, though, had held back. And that left Deb feeling conflicted as her specially gloved hands rapidly checked his corrosive injuries. Because while she was glad he hadn¡¯t simply scythed through his enemies without any compassion for the real lives he would have been taking, that had cost him severely. Blue orb powers and Breath use taxing his unprepared body, as well as an accumulation of injuries that he hadn¡¯t even bothered to tally himself as he had struck. She kind of wished he¡¯d just done what Anesh did. Make sure he was safe first, and then worry about not killing his potential murderers. Ratroaches healed fast, but still, Arrush was in a lot of trouble. And it didn¡¯t take long into her examination mundane and magical for Deb to make a decision. ¡±He¡¯s not going to live.¡± She said in a crisp voice to Nik, who had helped her get Arrush off the floor and onto a folding gurney. ¡°I think he¡¯s experiencing organ failure. His lungs are shutting down, and his purple effect isn¡¯t keeping them working, which is bad. Internal bleeding is killing him and we don¡¯t have anything that can handle that without¡­¡± she motioned to the hissing corrosion that was leaking off him. Nik¡¯s face was a mix of anxiety and worse anxiety, but he nodded in rapid agreement, his authority giving him a similar indication. ¡°The blues only work for first aid. He needs¡­¡± he looked at Deb with a wide eyed expression. ¡±He needs a new body.¡± She said flatly. ¡°Which we can deliver. Lift your side.¡± ¡±No!¡± Nik¡¯s exclamation made her jump, but he explained quickly. ¡°No, we can¡¯t. Something down here is messing with telepads. We can¡¯t risk moving him like that.¡± Deb didn¡¯t like the delay that was going to lead to. ¡°What do we need. Absolutely need, for this?¡± She demanded rapidly. ¡±We could use the bathtub, if we had twenty gallons. Or bring the bed down. Can anyone do that, right now?¡± Nik asked. She was already asking. Holding three conversations through her skulljack, telling the Order what she needed. It took thirteen seconds for Deb to get an answer, before she nodded at Nik. ¡°It¡¯s on the way. Monitoring totems are too. This¡¯ll be messy.¡± Two priceless minutes and sixteen valuable seconds later, four Response knights proudly wearing their blue patches and awkwardly linked together as they held a custom made medical tool between them appeared in the lobby of the house. Deb and Nik began carefully maneuvering Arrush¡¯s gurney down the stairs rather than ask that the thousand pound secured piece of furniture meant for giving people shaper substance baths be moved upstairs. It just seemed easier. ¡±He didn¡¯t want a skulljack but I¡¯m making an executive call here.¡± Deb said as they moved the unconscious ratroach. ¡°Get me his records and preferences, now.¡± Nik didn¡¯t make any indication that he¡¯d heard, but two files rapidly arrived in Deb¡¯s mind and she started her pre-surgery review. ¡°We¡¯ve never done something like this.¡± Nik told her quietly. ¡±Yeah, which is why I need you to shut up and help, not give me a bunch of doubt. Got it?¡± Deb snapped, looking back up the stairs. ¡°Did you find his arm? We¡¯re going to need the mass.¡± Nik shook his head, trying not to look around the blood splattered foyer. ¡°Okay. Armor off.¡± They started rapidly stripping away the kevlar and hard plastic shell, the blood having half-melted some of the straps making it a little easier. Underneath, what was left of his clothing was in bad enough shape that it cut away easily. The shield team had moved their prisoners, and they¡¯d been treating people in other rooms. Which left the area empty of anything except the lingering damage of the fight. Which meant that Keeka, no longer supervised with the others as Warmth-Of-Sunshine and Aaron came to help Deb and Nik prepare for something they categorically could not prepare for, was in the perfect position to peer around the open hallway and see his partner laying in a bloody wreck on the gurney. Deb was giving a count to the group, the mix of human hands and camraconda sight making transferring Arrush across to the surgery bed a breeze, when Keeka crept up to the edge of that bed unnoticed. ¡°¡­Arrush?¡± His voice was a hoarse rasp, his own accelerated ratroach healing doing a lot to repair his throat with his body otherwise fully perfected, but it would still be a while before he could speak properly. ¡°Wh-what?¡± His eyes leaked luminescent tears as he looked around at the gathered medical team. Nik moved up next to him. ¡±Keeka. We¡¯re going to need you to move back in a second.¡± ¡±Is-is he¡­?¡± Keeka¡¯s voice was a stammering chitter as he stared at Nik. ¡±He¡¯s not doing okay. We¡¯re going to do everything we can, okay? But you need to move back for safety.¡± Nik said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. He looked down at their camraconda assistant. ¡°Warmth, can you take him back to the others please?¡± He asked. Warmth-Of-Sunshine gave a bobbing nod. ¡°Come. Let us sit together. It will be alright, they are very good at what they do.¡± He said as he let Keeka set a trembling paw on his head and led the ratroach back to where the others were waiting. They passed by Anesh as they did, the frayed looking man standing awkwardly leaning on the empty frame that separated the foyer from the living room as he let the blue and green camraconda guide Keeka past. ¡±What can I do to help?¡± He asked, making a conscious effort to not pick at the bandages on his hand. ¡±Sit the fuck down.¡± Deb told him, pointing without looking. Anesh was crashing from an adrenaline rush that would have incapacitated a pony, and he was starting to shake to the point that he wasn¡¯t going to be able to stand soon. Her command was as much for his sake as her own. Anesh stared at her with blank eyes, before looking at Arrush for a long moment, and then silently turning to go sit with Keeka and hold his boyfriend and maybe have a breakdown. Nik watched him go, shaking his head. ¡°I want that power.¡± He muttered. ¡±No you don¡¯t.¡± Deb informed him bluntly. ¡°Aaron, is everything set up?¡± The nurse emerged from under the surgical bed where he¡¯d been adjusting settings. Modifying the depression that Arrush lay in so they could use the most efficient amount of shaper substance. ¡°Yeah. Here.¡± He handed Deb a cable that would be her main skulljack connection, adding to her braid for the surgery. ¡°I¡¯ll get you a chair.¡± Nik double checked the tanks of shaper substance they had while Deb did another read through of the final shape of Arrush¡¯s preferred form. She was going to do her best here, because the more someone used shaper substance, the harder it got to do well. The slipperier a body got. And Arrush had used it a lot before coming to the Order¡¯s care. So this was going to be uniquely hard to do. Not to mention that they¡¯d never used it to repair injuries before, only alter healthy bodies. Deb knew it could be done, but, again, a first time for this level of difficult. First she¡¯d make sure he lived though. Aaron used a disinfectant swab to make sure the back of Arrush¡¯s neck was clean before using his own skulljack to transfer the arcane cybernetic port to the ratroach, and then quickly disconnecting before he ended up as a hive mind. ¡°Well that¡¯s bad.¡± He muttered, the brief moment of connection enough to leave him with phantom pains in his arms. Steadying Arrush¡¯s unconscious body, Aaron got him plugged into the secure port in the surgery bed while Deb situated herself. ¡±Ready?¡± Nik asked. ¡±Do it.¡± Deb said flatly, connecting the cord and taking over Arrush¡¯s thoughts. It wasn¡¯t even hard, he was barely conscious, his self having diminished and retreated to the darkest corners of his mind. Deb briefly touched on his thoughts to let him know she was there, and that it was going to be okay, and then Arrush ceased to exist as an individual in a meaningful way, and it was a good thing Deb was busy or that might have bothered her that she was doing to someone else what had been done to her in Officium Mundi. Most of it wasn¡¯t just her though; Mercy, living in her thoughts, twisted through the connection like a glittering eel, a reassuring whisper that would keep them both safe. She kept her eyes open, because she needed the dual perspective on his body, which meant Deb knew exactly the moment that the shaper substance was poured into the recessed basin. Nik and Aaron started out filling the space in unison until it was halfway to the proper level, at which point they split and one of them started twisting the monitoring red totems into place. Pieces of clinical information lit up in Deb¡¯s thoughts. Organ function, pain levels, heart rate, all of it next to the more visceral and primal feelings of agony and physicality through the skulljack. She ignored everything she didn¡¯t need, Mercy in her head screening the thoughts from her that would be distractions. Instead of getting lost in what it meant to be a dying ratroach in an intentionally broken form, Deb was looking down at herself, and seeing some minor imperfections that could be neatly patched up. An overlay of a desired body onto the real thing, preferences and notes sitting buffered in her thoughts through the efficient little computer her brain was tethered to. The shaper substance, a viscous slime that was a radioactive shade of blue, took hold. She could feel how her flesh opened itself to the possibility of being reshaped. Feel things begin to shift toward unknown designs. And Deb got to work. Injuries were actually easy, it turned out. Even with the resistance to control that the body had. They weren¡¯t supposed to be easy, from everything they knew about the stuff and the interviews with ratroaches who had used it, but Deb found it all quite doable. The information was right there at hand, and the substance-submerged body responded to how she thought it should work. External wounds were left for later, they¡¯d be handled in the full sweep, except for the hole where his arm had used to be, and the end of one of his tails that had been crushed. That was handled now. Internal bleeding was sealed off, her authority guiding her to the right spots. Organs were repaired, reinforced, and then altered to be in line with working parts and not devices meant to be just functional enough to torture the user. The lungs were the hardest part, the purple effect Arrush had meant that a solution needed to be long term; so Deb reworked them to have an organic timer. It was something she¡¯d been planning for a while, just for Arrush, and now she was doing it under harsh pressure. Every new lung chamber that grew from the purple effect would replace one that would be reabsorbed by the body and reprocessed for nutrients. He¡¯d never have to worry about breathing properly, or fully starving, again. The body fought that change, bucking and twisting in her mental grip. But Deb had done this before, and knowing that when that happened she actually could just use her skulljack¡¯s mental storage program to lock something in place and wait for the shaper substance to settle down, it made it manageable. ¡±Heart rate dropping.¡± Nik¡¯s voice informed her, needlessly. That happened sometimes. Deb would let the other two manage it, as she moved on to large scale bodily changes. Hide and chitin rejected each other, because of intentional design by the dungeon. By now, the fix for that was easy, but it was easier to move the chitin patches around before applying it. So she focused on where should be exoskeleton and where should be hide, moving and adjusting that first before purging the remnant infection and fusing the two together in a harmonious blend. Flesh swirled and warped, and if Arrush had been conscious then the speed at which she was moving might have killed even him with the shock of pain. It was all so easy. Deb¡¯s thoughts thumbed through facts about proteins and cell structure like she was flipping magazine pages. She understood nerve endings on a tactical level. Her knowledge, arcanely accrued over time, was suddenly all useful all at once, and Deb was happy to admit that she was in fact smarter than the shaper substance was rebellious. Next came bodily fluids, and the corrosive effect. That wasn¡¯t fully biological, with some kind of magical component that wasn¡¯t fully understood. So the solution didn¡¯t involve getting rid of it fully, since this particular body modification process didn¡¯t let them make up new magic; instead causing the liver to produce a trace compound that had been found to perfectly neutralize the corrosion. It worked on every other ratroach, and it worked on Arrush too without complaint. Eyes were wrong, both in function and how they failed to match the desired outcome. Deb adjusted them with a clinical understanding of optics and perspective. Muzzle was wrong, the overbite crooked and painful. Deb adjusted that too with a clear insight into bone and muscle structures. Teeth were harder; she couldn¡¯t actually modify those, but she could set up a second set of growing teeth that could come in and replace the current ones with something better over the course of a month. It was very clever improvisation from her, and she wondered if Mercy would let her feel proud of it later. ¡±Hey doc.¡± Aaron¡¯s voice was a distraction. Deb was working on limbs. ¡°Doc. Deb.¡± She flicked her eyes to him, and looked down where he was watching. Arrush¡¯s legs were warping, without her input. That was too soon; that kind of degradation took hours on most subjects. He must have been reshaped more repeatedly than even he had realized. ¡±I¡¯m abandoning limb placement.¡± Deb said. She¡¯d gotten Arrush¡¯s four remaining arms into an uneven but still more preferable configuration, but she couldn¡¯t waste more time if she was going to have to focus on keeping his knees from sliding off for the rest of this. ¡°Focus on pain management.¡± She was speaking out loud for the benefit of herself, mostly. Staying on track as she tackled every tiny piece of the problem that Arrush had told them about over the past months in the sessions with Lua. Skin irritation, joint aches, vocal cord strain, food sensitivity, every spot that hurt for seeming random reasons, Deb swept through to try to identify causes and erase them. It hurt Arrush. A lot. She could tell through the totem just how much pain the body was in, but she kept his conscious mind suppressed so he¡¯d never know, and Mercy let her fail to feel it herself. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m calling it.¡± Nik said. ¡°Ten seconds, finish whatever you¡¯re on, and¡­ shit.¡± ¡±Fuck.¡± Aaron had the same thought at the same time. They weren¡¯t in the medical, they didn¡¯t have the dedicated shower and flush system to purge the shaper substance from the patient. ¡±Done.¡± Deb said, pausing briefly as the two men ran in opposite directions from the table. ¡°We¡­ oh, shit.¡± She ripped the cord out of her neck, struggling to move. Nik called from the front door. ¡°There¡¯s a koi pond!¡± ¡±Why the- you know what, I don¡¯t care. Aaron!¡± Deb got her feet under her, Scrub snapping into place around her arm in a shielding field as she hoisted Arrush upward. Her nurse grabbed the lower half of the ratroach, careful to avoid touching the shaper substance himself as the two of them gently rushed the unconscious body out the front door that Nik was holding open for them. The koi pond wasn¡¯t the right size, it was too narrow and too shallow, but it was water close by, and importantly it didn¡¯t have any koi in it. They dunked Arrush in, Aaron producing a brush and sponge that he used to quickly scrub any trace of the glowing magical goop off the ratroach¡¯s back. The table¡¯s help with a more even distribution was critical for stabilizing changes, but it meant that his entire backside was coated in the stuff. ¡±Water¡¯s contaminated.¡± Aaron told her. ¡°This is barely getting any better.¡± ¡±Get him turned. Barely is still some.¡± She told him, using Scrub¡¯s protective layer to wipe away the last of some of the slime on Arrush¡¯s upper arm. ¡°I¡¯m seeing a lot of inert sludge here.¡± She looked over at Aaron¡¯s side. ¡°Any still active?¡± ¡±Not that I can spot.¡± He said, eyes glinting as he focused more than a normal human was able to. ¡°We should still get him a full bath.¡± Deb nodded, standing up and shaking her hand so that her authority would purge the biological contaminants and refit himself to her. From out of the air around her, draping herself across her shoulders, Mercy took form. The pink and gold serpent watching everyone around with loving eyes as she settled onto Deb. ¡°You did very good.¡± She whispered to the doctor. Deb nodded loosely again, her feelings slowly coming back to her as Mercy let the filter go. And then she started laughing. A simple little laugh, the relieved sound rapidly escalating to a manic and uncontrolled cackle. She¡¯d done it, and it hadn¡¯t even been that hard. Arrush had been on death¡¯s doorstep, and Deb had casually dropped by to pull him back, like she¡¯d just happened to be in the neighborhood. She felt good. Better than good, she felt vindicated. Every orb, every spell, every change to hospital procedure, every late night studying, it all led here. To the point that life and death and biology itself were all hers to bully around. ¡±Let¡¯s get him inside before the neighbors notice.¡± She said as she calmed down, the crash from the elation coming on fast and harsh. ¡°I¡¯ll go tell the others.¡± ¡±Have fun.¡± Aaron smirked at her. He knew what part of this job she secretly enjoyed the most. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure no one touches the medical waste. Oh, there are no neighbors; something about the Mormons and a dungeon? I think? Heard it from a friend, so I¡¯m not sure exactly. But this street is pretty empty.¡± Deb smiled, and gave a professional incline of her chin toward Nik and Aaron. ¡°Thank you.¡± She said simply, getting smiles in return. The kind of smile when you knew you¡¯d done good, and couldn¡¯t help but feel satisfied. And they deserved those smiles. ¡°Nik, pack up the totems before Mercy gets tired.¡± ¡±Oh, right! On it doc!¡± Deb felt so elated she didn¡¯t even bother to tell him not to call her that. Taking a spare moment to catch her breath and stare blankly at her reflection in the mirror over the front bathroom sink as she leaned forward over running water. Between the authority and the gloves, there wasn¡¯t really anything on her hands, but she still felt like she needed to wash off. And not be near anyone for just a moment. ¡±You¡¯re doing okay.¡± Mercy murmured to her. ¡°Do you need help?¡± ¡±I¡¯m good.¡± Deb told the infomorph. Mercy hummed in harmony with herself, gaps that weren¡¯t quite mouths and weren¡¯t quite pores opening in her side like the vents of some incorporeal woodwind. ¡°Young lady, lying to me is bad enough, but please don¡¯t lie to yourself.¡± ¡±You¡¯re one.¡± Deb poked at the assignment¡¯s coiling body with a laugh. ¡±And so I do not lie to myself!¡± Mercy gave a glittering smile along her whole body, comfort flooding Deb as she prodded the emotion into place. ¡°Be kinder to yourself. You know the value of care for others, accept some for yourself.¡± Deb nodded at the firm but kind reminder. ¡°Yeah. Okay. Alright, let¡¯s go let them know. And then see who needs help next.¡± She left the front hall bathroom, skirting the shaping table, moving aside for a pair of the shield team that were double checking the house, and walking into the living room. She tried not to stare at the hole stabbed through the house and crumbling bits of dust and debris as people moved around upstairs. ¡°Hey.¡± She said to the gathered group on the couches and chairs. Keeka saw her and instantly slumped, luminous tears streaming down the chitin plates of his face and into his fur. ¡°No!¡± He yelled abruptly, voice a wet rasp through the gunshot wound in his neck. ¡±Correct, no.¡± Deb nodded. ¡°Arrush is¡­ not fine, but he¡¯ll live. I think. I hope. We¡¯ll need to do¡­ a lot of observation.¡± She breathed deep and regretted it as she was hit with the smell of blood, tar, gunfire, and falling bits of fiberglass insulation. ¡°We had to use shaper substance, and since I didn¡¯t know if we¡¯d ever be able to safely do it again, I tried to put his body into working order while I was at it.¡± She didn¡¯t see it as worth bragging about that she had mostly succeeded, they¡¯d find out quickly enough. ¡°Now. Nik says there¡¯s a telepad issue, so we can¡¯t move him?¡± ¡±Sorta.¡± Momo said, voice coming up from where she was not moving, laying flat on the floor against Deb¡¯s express orders to not lay on the fucking floor. ¡°It¡¯s sporadic. James was locked down earlier, but I was teleporting around with him all day, and we came back fine. But he and Keeka couldn¡¯t leave, so it could-¡° she broke off into a coughing wheeze, curling up as her chest started hurting. A jittery Anesh, holding a relieved Keeka who had sagged awkwardly into his armor, finished for her. ¡°Probably something to do with their magic. It might even be unintentional. It¡¯s certainly intentional on Lincon¡­¡± he trailed off, shaking his head, hands weakly clenching on Keeka¡¯s back as he lost track of his thoughts. ¡°Sorry. So Arrush is okay?¡± ¡±Arrush is okay.¡± Deb assured them, skipping all the caveats and conditions. She¡¯d ensure it anyway, so it was fine. ¡°Now, I don¡¯t know where my triage team put him. Where¡¯s James?¡± Keeka looked up at her with a distant stare in his broken ring of eyes. ¡°Where did you put him?¡± He asked. ¡±I didn¡¯t put him anywhere.¡± Deb chuckled once. There were about a dozen extra people in the house right now between her people and the shield team and the others who had come to help. It wasn¡¯t a disorganized mess, but there was an amount of chaos, and she didn¡¯t know what flat surface her triaging nurse had put James onto. ¡°But I should get to him next, he was-¡° ¡±Yes you did.¡± Ink-And-Key¡¯s voice was at the wrong pitch, the painkiller he was on making it too hard for him to alter the settings on his unfamiliar replacement speaker. ¡°You took him into the basement.¡± He said as he subconsciously coiled protectively around Rho¡¯s sleeping form. The inhabitor would be fine, gunshots and all, but the camraconda was too out of it to process that bit of information. ¡±¡­No I didn¡¯t.¡± Deb said. ¡°I haven¡¯t been in the basement at all.¡± ¡°Well. Then. Where the hell is James.¡± Anesh asked quietly, gently moving Keeka¡¯s paws off of him with his own twitching hands, and standing up slowly. Deb turned to watch him nervously as he stiffly approached the shield team leader. ¡°Evans, do you know where James is?¡± ¡±Deb triaged him, he¡¯s in the basement, room next to two of the wounded opposition.¡± The sandy haired man said without hesitation. ¡±No I didn¡¯t.¡± Deb hadn¡¯t fully caught up to how alarming this was, she just shrugged and shook her head. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll find-¡° Evans¡¯ eyes twitched slightly and he tilted his head minutely before a message came through everyone¡¯s skulljacks. ¡°Shapeshifter, paladin Lyle is missing, secure the house and look for signs of exit now.¡± He looked at Anesh, who gave him a tired stare back. ¡°We fucked up.¡± ¡±That we did.¡± Anesh said. ¡±Wait, where the hell is James?¡± Momo yelled from the floor. ¡±I have no idea.¡± Anesh said, composing himself and trying to pretend that the last day full of dungeon delving and gun fighting hadn¡¯t happened. Trying to put on the mask of someone who was good at this kind of adventure. ¡°But good news. He got shot, and was bleeding everywhere, so I¡¯m going to find out very quickly.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not good news!¡± Keeka squeaked out. ¡±That¡¯s actually terrible news.¡± Deb added. ¡°He has an eye injury. There¡¯s a limited window in which we can do something about that, even with medical authorities.¡± Anesh nodded and tried not to groan as every sore muscle in his body protested even that simple action. ¡°Alright. Everyone who can walk and isn¡¯t on prisoner duty with me. Let¡¯s go find who kidnapped my boyfriend.¡± Chapter 297 (Part 1) ¡°You are feverish. You are deadly ill. You are breathing. And you are alive. You are fighting an infection and winning.¡± -Jace Beleren, Bring The End Pt 1- _____ Being taken prisoner was a weirdly novel experience for James. He¡¯d been sort of a prisoner of the hiring manager thing back in Officium Mundi, for, like, three minutes. Right up until Alanna had put his body in a headlock and ripped the skulljack out. He¡¯d been trapped in the Stratified Underburbs, too, but that was like being trapped in the middle of the amazon rainforest. You weren¡¯t a prisoner, you were just in trouble. When the shapeshifter pretending to be Deb had hit him in the back of the head, James had been about to fight back, before realizing they weren¡¯t trying to outright murder him. Which was good, because he felt drained, to such a degree that he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d win that fight. But he also wasn¡¯t unconscious, so he¡¯d played along and let himself be dragged out the basement back door, and then into a car where he had his hands badly zip tied. By the soft swearing of not-Deb, and the sounds he was hearing, they¡¯d only just barely dodged the shield team and the rest of James¡¯ companions. But he didn¡¯t try to get away. He felt exhausted and limp, and there was every chance that he¡¯d end up shot in the back if he tried to run now. So he tried to get comfortable on the car¡¯s seat without showing that he was awake, as the shapeshifter gingerly took corners and tried to pretend that they weren¡¯t fleeing a crime scene. And then James got what he was secretly hoping for. The digital bloop noise of the car¡¯s fancy speaker system, and then the ringing of a phone call being placed. ¡±Hey. It¡¯s me. Tangerine. Hey, shut up!¡± The driver snapped out in Deb¡¯s slightly incorrect voice as the man they were calling started to greet them. ¡°Everything went wrong.¡± ¡±Everything?¡± The man - a vaguely familiar voice James placed as someone from the conspiracy meeting he¡¯d spied on - replied. ¡°How bad? And why are you a woman?¡± ¡±They just appeared. Out of thin air! The miracle let us get the jump on them, but then the guns stopped working, and¡­ and¡­ and!¡± The shapeshifter¡¯s borrowed voice cracked and they slammed on the brakes, sending James rolling onto the floor in a position that hurt the fuck out of his back as he was pressed into the center console of the car. ¡°The brown kid shot Fish in the head. And they had their demon there, and I think it cut Mark¡¯s head off. I don¡¯t know if anyone else is alive!¡± ¡±Where are you?¡± ¡±Driving!¡± The shapeshifter cackled a scared laugh. ¡°I kidnapped one of them, Russ! I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing!¡± They looked back at James, laying sideways on the floor of their car now. ¡°What do I do?¡± There was a pause. ¡°Bring the fed to me. We can lock him up and get some answers. Maybe trade for anyone still alive from this complete disaster.¡± ¡±I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡±Not yet you¡¯re not.¡± Came the coldly enraged reply. ¡°Stop wasting time. And make sure you disarm him before you bring him inside.¡± The call ended, and the driver changed course, muttering a repeated ¡°Oh god, oh god¡± in a panicked copy of Deb¡¯s voice as they drove. And again, James was reminded that their enemies were people, and not just mindless automatons. This was someone. Someone who was terrified of violence, scared of death, and broken by the deaths of their friends. Of course they¡¯d also been trying to do exactly those same things to James and his companions, so his sympathy was limited. ¡°Zhu.¡± He whispered slightly as the engine revved and covered his voice. He wasn¡¯t actually very good at dipping down low enough in his thoughts to talk to his navigator in his mind, which was definitely something James should practice for exactly this situation. ¡°Zhu? You awake?¡± ¡±Where are we?¡± Zhu muttered, his dusty orange glow quickly concealed by James before it could give them away in the sinking evening twilight. ¡±Captured.¡± James whispered back, trying not to whimper as he blinked and his eye squished around the leaking rupture in it. It hurt so much, it made him delirious when he wasn¡¯t focusing, which was probably why he hadn¡¯t noticed that Deb wasn¡¯t really Deb as he was led away to the basement to be taken prisoner. It also might be why he was making the terrible decision to go along with this, but at the moment, he was having a hard time feeling like he had any other options, even though he sorta knew this one was stupid. ¡°Can¡¯t move. Hide my gun and bracers under the seat.¡± Zhu didn¡¯t hesitate, instead starting to wiggle the Walther out of James¡¯ holster in the smallest movements possible. ¡°How did you get into this.¡± He spoke half in James¡¯ head, keeping his actual voice quiet. James didn¡¯t reply. He didn¡¯t have the mental bandwidth available for banter right now, which would have been terrifying if he hadn¡¯t slipped and lost the ability to be concerned about things like that too. Instead, he tried his best to take stock of what he had on him, and what his options were. He had several backup telepads, because he was done fucking that up, but if his attempt to run with Keeka earlier was any indication, he¡¯d been tethered again, and couldn¡¯t risk more pain and possibly damage right now. The bracers were mostly depleted by the gunfight anyway, and he wanted them stashed because he absolutely could not risk an enemy faction getting ahold of leveler items. And his gun would be stolen anyway, so he¡¯d rather put it somewhere he could more easily retrieve it, since the gun bracelet he was wearing still had¡­ about two months left before it could rebind. James let Zhu slip that off him too, since his armor was already being shoved to the side anyway. What he had that would help was a shorter list. He had a stress ball from Officium Mundi in his pocket that he had to refrain from fiddling with because it made people feel surprised, he had a pocket with one of the skirmish winner seizes blades statuettes that he hadn¡¯t found a reasonable time to use yet, he had his phone, and by association, anything the Order had emailed to their shared emergency gear account. Thought his phone would probably get stolen too, unless Zhu could conceal it for him. He also had his internal magic. A couple uses of the spell from around here that made a towel, either one or two charges of Move Person left, enough Velocity slowly ticking up to use a single Pave. And his Breath was back what he felt like was around a hundred or so. James had a very high Breath cap from the long delve, and while it could take a little while to tick back up, it did it basically automatically. He¡¯d just¡­ panicked a bit, and used more Mountain of the Self than he should have during that fight. Which might also have contributed to why his head hurt. But he could cast, and that gave him options. On the other side of things, he was hurt. He was almost certainly going to lose some function in his eye on a permanent level. Not the whole thing, he hoped, but there was enough damage there that it would never work right again. Or at least, it wouldn¡¯t until Deb and the dedicated part of Research that worked with her found a way to fix it. Or until James got shaper substance treatment. Or until he stumbled across some life changing purple orb by complete accident. Right now, though, there was still a bullet lodged in his face, and fluids that were supposed to be inside of him dripping down his cheek and chin. A shooting pain that wasn¡¯t fading coming back in full every time he blinked or tried to look at something, gnawing at his ability to plan. The bleeding was already slowing though. Endurance and purple orb enhanced blood working to keep him from dying by inches. And James took a second to be appreciative of the boost he had that made his eyes harder to break, because he was almost certain that if that wasn¡¯t part of his enhancement list that the bullet would have done far worse to him. He also hoped they¡¯d be able to buy that one spellbook off of the gentleman thief in the area, because suddenly, seeing normally out of one eye sounded a lot more important. James tried to keep his breathing steady, relying on the driver¡¯s panic and inexperience to keep from being noticed. He knew it didn¡¯t help, but he focused on healing, on pushing the pain back. There was no magic in him that would actually do that, but he needed to be ready to act in a moment if it turned out he¡¯d miscalculated. So he tried to compose himself, while Zhu wiggled his bracer clasps open and pulled the things out under the rear seat of the car. Soon enough, the vehicle came to a jerking stop, and James played at being unconscious again as the driver¡¯s door opened and slammed shut with too much force. Shortly after, one of the rear doors opened too, and he was awkwardly hauled out; and he hoped that he didn¡¯t give the game away when he twitched his neck to avoid hitting his head on the bottom of the door. ¡±What the hell, is this guy even alive? He¡¯s got a bullet in his face.¡± A voice asked with obvious concern. ¡±He¡¯s breathing. Bishop Anderson said to put him in the secure room in the basement.¡± The shapeshifter said. Or at least, James assumed it was the shifter; their voice was now decidedly male, and he really wanted to crack his working eye to see who they were now. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to disarm him.¡± But he kept still, and let them search him. ¡°Good lord, why does he have all this extra ammo? Why¡¯s he in armor? I thought he was FBI?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t know!¡± The words were punctuated with one of his magazines being pulled from a belt pouch and thrown across the parking lot. ¡°Just-! Just¡­ help me get him inside, okay?¡± ¡±¡­Okay¡­¡± James felt Zhu twitch against his skin as the two of them felt the directions they were moved through the building. Both of them building a different style of mental map for how to get back to whatever door they used when the time came. James was pretty sure that he knew vaguely where this was, or at least what kind of building it was, but he didn¡¯t dare open his eyes and potentially give the game away yet. Hallways and corners. Two sets of stairs. Another hall, a door through an intermediate room, and then a final shorter hall before a door that he was moved into. ¡°Stick him on the cot.¡± The shifter said. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll get Anderson. Can you watch him?¡± ¡±Sure. You okay?¡± ¡±No.¡± The voices faded as the door closed, and a heavy ratcheting clack announced the lock being thrown. Sitting up and letting Zhu slit a talon through the zip tie on his wrists and massaging the band of marked skin where they¡¯d cut into him a little, James opened his eye to see the cell he¡¯d been put in. A plain beige room, with a radiator on the wall and a table bolted to the floor. No decorations, not even wallpaper, and no windows of any kind either. It looked like a holding room for a mental health crisis, only somehow less comfortable. There was something in James¡¯ life that had, in a way, been a part of him for a very long time. He put himself in danger, he tried to protect people, save people, and he fought when he needed to. And it had become¡­ almost normal to him. But it wasn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t how people were normally, it maybe wasn¡¯t how people were supposed to be. But it was how he was. He was a paladin. He found dangerous situations, and he handled them. Not just that, he wrung advantages out of them, so he could do it again better next time. To him, that was one of the core parts of his role; he existed to convert power into good in a way that brought more of that power to his hands. Letting his enemies bring him here was a risk, and admittedly, he might not be thinking clearly, but he had a plan, and this bullshit had gone on for long enough. There were only so many times someone got to try to kill him or his friends before they¡¯d gone too far. James had survived more things than he should have, and he had learned from every failure and fuckup. He¡¯d filled the gaps in his life with self improvement in a dozen ways, and he¡¯d made the practice of being hard to kill or shut down into a career. This cell wasn¡¯t going to be his end. If for no other reason than that paladins - at least so far - seemed to attract dramatic rescues like it was a compulsion upon fate itself. But James had higher hopes than just waiting for Anesh to come bail him out. His tactical opponents had decided to capture him for some reason, either to trade for their own wounded, or to interrogate him, or even just to finish him off somewhere else at their leisure. He didn¡¯t know. But the process of capturing someone when you were a secretive cabal and not, like, the government or something, meant that you needed a place to put them. A memory of a tactical briefing Camille had given them came to his mind. That being captured on purpose was a good way to expose operational sites from a poorly managed group. A well managed group would have intentional separation for this kind of thing, but people who weren¡¯t career criminals might not even think of it. James certainly hadn¡¯t; he¡¯d sort of assumed if they ever did take prisoners they¡¯d put them in the Lair somewhere, and Cam had just¡­ stared at him. For three minutes. Then the briefing had ended when she¡¯d walked out the back loading dock, dropped off the scraped concrete ledge that had survived oh so many semi trucks backing into it, and strode away into the strip of trees that separated their property from the adjacent building. That part wasn¡¯t important. What was important was that James was pretty sure the people who had two overlapping and partially competing operations happening within their ranks, who didn¡¯t know half their members were from one of the two dungeons that they only explored half of, might not have good operational security. So what he needed to determine was how his escape route synergies with an assault plan. And then realize that plan, and get the others here to help him mop up. ¡±Zhu, did you manage to text anyone before they stole my phone?¡± ¡±I¡­ didn¡¯t even think of that. I don¡¯t even know if I can push a touchscreen. I¡¯m really sorry.¡± ¡±It¡¯s fine.¡± James breathed in, holding air in his lungs tightly enough that his chest ached. ¡°You ready?¡± The navigator pulled himself all the way into reality over the bits of James¡¯ armor that hadn¡¯t been stripped off in the car. Three eyes down his right arm, a layer of dusty orange feathers that led to a split limb with a long taloned hand that had a pair of blue orbs floating in it, a thick feathered tail with a fanned base, and more feathers across James¡¯ shoulders and neck. Zhu had grown more and more sturdy over time, even through the dungeon disease that still plagued him. ¡°I am very ready.¡± He announced. ¡°Are you? You look like shit. I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t do the eye overlap thing in my form that Path and Dan do, that would suuuuck right now.¡± James snorted as he pulled some gauze out of a pouch they¡¯d left open but hadn¡¯t emptied. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ Dan? Really?¡± ¡±We shorten Pathfinder¡¯s name, why can¡¯t I shorten Daniel¡¯s name?¡± Zhu shot back. Rubbing at his temple, James took a few sharp breaths, and then plucked the bullet out of where it had started to stick into its spot with dried blood. It hurt like hell, and he let out a keening whine of pain at the action he maybe should have waited on. Shoving the gauze against the hole in his face, he got Zhu to hold a flat bandage in place so he could wrap medical tape around his head, only getting a few dozen of his long hairs stuck in it as he made himself a makeshift eyepatch. ¡°Okay.¡± He gasped out. ¡°I can banter now. I¡¯m good. You don¡¯t get to decide on names cause you¡¯re bad at names.¡± ¡±What?! My name is great!¡± Zhu¡¯s voice was clearly trying to be playful even as he was concerned about James¡¯ injury. ¡±Zhu you don¡¯t even know how first and last names work.¡± James retorted, pulling the stress ball and Library figurine out and holding one in each hand as he rose to his feet, and made sure he could stand without wobbling. He could. So he nodded. ¡°And yes. I¡¯m ready.¡± ¡±Me too. Let¡¯s do it.¡± Zhu said seriously. ¡°They¡¯re never going to expect this.¡± James almost smiled. His version of being a paladin was, perhaps, not the safest one. But he hoped that by the end of the night, he could show some results. _____ Alex had never been to college in her before life. She¡¯d sort of wanted to, but also sort of didn¡¯t, but also never actually made a decision on the matter. When she¡¯d been working for the call center that had turned out to be sitting on top of a dungeon that would happily trade orbs for human lives, Alex had been lying to both her parents and herself that she was saving up so she wouldn¡¯t have to rely just on scholarships and student loans. Since joining the Order properly, she¡¯d learned a lot of stuff without setting foot on campus, but she¡¯d also learned that orbs weren¡¯t everything. And that had led to her auditing a couple classes at the local community college; one for creative writing and one for media analysis. That second one she¡¯d taken with James¡¯ dog. Or¡­ with Auberdeen. It felt weird to call the dog ¡°James¡¯ dog¡± when Auberdeen was smart enough to turn in the essay assignments. Either way, Alex had now experienced going to classes and navigating odd academia construction choices. Which hadn¡¯t come close to preparing her for The University of Tulsa. The college was spread across a picturesque chunk of land that wasn¡¯t directly in the middle of Tulsa, but was within walking distance of a Taco Bell, which felt like a bizarre contrast with the red brick buildings and expansive grass of the quad. Alex had also realized shortly after she¡¯d crystallized that thought from her study of maps of the area that she seemed to think of spaces in terms of what fast food was nearby, and that was kinda weird. She wasn¡¯t going to stop doing it though. Alex was here because, while she didn¡¯t know what kind of paladin she wanted to be or even what a paladin was actually supposed to do, James had told her to go solve problems. And this place was experiencing a string of disappearances that, almost as soon as Alex had gotten here, she¡¯d learned weren¡¯t disappearances at all. The thing about the modern world was, people assumed that you didn¡¯t have privacy. That everything was recorded, that things were instantly noticed, that there was no way to miss anything. And yet the reality, Alex had found, was almost the opposite. Oh, there were a ton of ways to see every individual aspect of your life. Show up late to work and your boss would know. Take a trip and your GPS would see every sudden stop you made. Go to the hospital and your doctor would have every part of that on file. But none of those people or systems would see the whole picture. None of them would see the car crash. Alex didn¡¯t see the whole picture either, yet. But she had collected a lot of pieces. The fact that people were being murdered was obvious once you knew that more than one person had been murdered. Murdered, too, not disappeared. It only looked like disappearances to people who just accepted that someone had stopped showing up. The pattern of it was less clear, though the murder part was easy. Student records were helpful for beginning, though it took a bribe and no small amount of flirting to get the ones she wanted. Dorm access was easier, because people would just open doors for you if you asked sometimes. Professors and TA¡¯s were willing to talk when Alex presented her FBI badge - technically a real one too, since she was a consultant, even if the Order hadn¡¯t heard from Malcom McHarn in a while - and they helped fill in more personal gaps. Traffic and security cameras were easy at this point, the Order¡¯s emerald penetration software working as intended to get access. Police records, she would have had a harder time, but she didn¡¯t bother; everything she actually needed was covered by the other information and the public website that kept a running list of incidents picked up on their police scanner, which Alex matched to each vanished girl. Direct witnesses were the most time consuming part of the investigation. Friends were almost non-existent for the victims, which was itself a big clue. Family often didn¡¯t know they were even missing, if they cared. Roommates were only aware that someone had dropped out. Honestly, Alex had gotten lucky when she¡¯d met the homeless man who had seen one of the students shortly before her death, and had been willing to tell her what he knew for twenty bucks. Twenty bucks seemed light for helping catch what was shaping up to be a serial killer. So Alex had taken him to breakfast, talked for a while in what had been actually pleasant socialization that he seemed to hunger for more than the food, and bought enough time for someone from Recovery to be ready in Townton to receive him and get him set up with a place to stay for as long as he wanted it. All things put together gave Alex a picture. And she fucking knew it wasn¡¯t a complete one. But it was the picture she had, and now she could start rotating that image and finding the rest of it. Like a magic eye puzzle, only murder-y. Alex hated that she¡¯d had that thought. It felt too flippant in the face of actual deaths. She¡¯d spent too long around James, she was learning the wrong lessons about banter and it was screwing with her head. The picture, though, was this: Someone, for some reason, was killing students at this university. Only students, unless they used a different profile of killing off campus, but that seemed needlessly complex. The people they targeted were, universally, neurodivergent and queer women, which hit a little close to home. It also felt wrong. Like it was too intentionally obvious. But maybe her quarry was just that stupid? Alex wouldn¡¯t bank on it though. The killer also, for an unknown reason, did the murders with a sword. Which tied into something Alex had found the edges of. She was pretty sure the killer was a delver. And that might be a problem. But that was literally her job as a paladin. And she was a delver too; hopefully a more dangerous one than her target. Which was why she felt if not confident then at least prepared as she trailed after a potential victim. This wasn¡¯t the first person Alex had stalked in the dead of night, and it probably wouldn¡¯t be the last. The killer wasn¡¯t on a schedule, and the school was big enough that there were hundreds of people who fit his target profile. But Alex didn¡¯t have any solid leads, and so she¡¯d switched tracks to creating a network of contacts. Like Sapphire, who was halfway to the nearest Taco Bell, and currently on a call with Alex as she stalked the other girl. ¡°This feels silly and stupid all at once. Are you sure you¡¯re a professional?¡± The college student asked Alex. ¡±First off, don¡¯t talk to me, you¡¯ll give it away if anyone is paying attention.¡± Alex replied, trying not to laugh. ¡°Also I¡¯m totally not a professional. I just¡­ uh¡­¡± She trailed off. What was she, even? Paladin didn¡¯t really feel like a career path, right now. Even though she¡¯d wanted it and been terrified of how real it felt in equal measure. Now she felt like she was starting to flounder. Maybe whatever magic James had woven around them just hadn¡¯t caught on her like with the others. Maybe she wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. ¡±Uh, A-Alex?¡± Sapphire¡¯s voice took on a sudden note of fear that made Alex snap to attention. ¡°There¡¯s a guy ahead of me.¡± ¡±A guy?¡± Alex didn¡¯t start running, but she did accelerate her walk, her authority and for some reason her Timing helping her fall into a brisk pace that would take her around the corner from the parallel street she was walking and directly to her contact and maybe friend. ¡°Describe him. Don¡¯t get close!¡± Sapphire¡¯s voice shook. ¡°But he¡¯s ahead of me? Should I run? He just appeared under a streetlight.¡± That sounded bad. Alex¡¯s heart rate sped up, and she started running. ¡°Yeah, run.¡± She sent silently through her skulljack. ¡°I¡¯m almost there. Don¡¯t risk it.¡± Alex took a corner, greave keeping her from stumbling on the concrete as she grabbed a streetlamp and whipped herself around. The roads here sucked, as they did in every city she¡¯d been in so far, and she should have allowed for the extra distance; it was something like five or six hundred feet from where she¡¯d come out on the main road to where Sapphire was standing. She started sprinting, her authority feeding extra oomph to her legs as she bolted forward, unwilling to take any chances with the life of one of the girls who was helping her.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. She could see Sapphire up ahead, unrecognizable through the gloom of night and the washed out orange of the streetlights, and she could see the man that was standing on her other side. Which was wrong, Alex¡¯s spatial reasoning told her; that meant he¡¯d already circled around her. Through the phone connection, Sapphire shouted at the man to stay away from her, which was followed by a laugh and spoken words that Alex couldn¡¯t quite make out. Then, ahead of her, the air broke. It looked like broken glass scattered through the air at chest height. Maybe it sloped, Alex couldn¡¯t tell, but it seemed to wrap around her friend and the man that she mentally tagged as her target. It also didn¡¯t disconnect the call, so she could hear Sapphire yelling for him to get away and leave her alone, and also the clatter of metal on the sidewalk. Alex didn¡¯t slow down. She¡¯d spent a lot of this trip thinking about what it meant to be a paladin. Which was, ultimately, a waste of her thoughts. She knew what it was; it was what she was already doing, and she was just mincing words trying to make herself feel like she ¡®should¡¯ do something specific. But the truth was honestly pretty simple. Someone was in trouble, and she was running toward them. ¡±This is gonna suuuuuck!¡± Alex grit her teeth as she slammed through the broken air, authority toughening her skin as they both expected it to shred her. But instead, there was almost no resistance, and Alex skidded forward from her little hop, seeing Sapphire pressed against the far edge of the effect like she was trapped here, one overly fancy rapier on the ground in front of her and another in the hand of the man about to skewer her. Alex flipped the mental switch that told her greave to strike, and her forward momentum was suddenly a dash that put her by the assailant in a blink, her foot angled down as the leveler greave brought her whole leg up in the perfectly sketched kick to land a blow on the man¡¯s knee. He staggered forward, sword missing Sapphire as he spun on Alex. ¡°Oh! A second?¡± He smiled, and she hated that the smile looked downright pleasant on his face. Alex preferred it when assholes looked like assholes, not like they were cute enough to get people¡¯s numbers at cafes. The mask obscured most of his face, but not the eyes, and not the grin. There was a pause, like he was waiting for something. And when it went on long enough, the broken air around them shifted, and his smile got wider. ¡±Drop the sword, and I won¡¯t aim for your dick.¡± Alex commanded, flicking out a weighted collapsible baton in one hand and pointing at him with the other. She tried to project confidence, but inside, she was worried. The greave kick hit really, really hard. Break bones hard. And she¡¯d landed it on his knee, too, but he was still standing. ¡±Now now, don¡¯t be crass.¡± The murderer laughed. And then he lunged. Alex wasn¡¯t ready for it. Not even close. The man blurred and was in front of her, point of his sword going for her throat. Her shield bracer, set to sword when she¡¯d kicked through into the circle of broken air, activated and stopped the strike, but if it hadn¡¯t, then Alex was almost certain she wouldn¡¯t have had time to cast anything or dodge before she¡¯d be dead. Holy shit. He was trying to kill her. Fear cracked, then buckled, and gave way to an incandescent rage. He was trying to kill her. Again, someone was trying to murder her, and Alex knew for a fucking fact that it wouldn¡¯t be a very impressive reason. She retaliated by whipping her arm toward him, authority-enhanced strength sending her baton toward his head, which he dodged with contemptuous ease. What he didn¡¯t dodge as well was her firing off a Melt Cloth blue orb, plastering the mask around his mouth and leaving him blurring backward to make space so he could claw it off his face. Alex had no interest in letting him do that. She was already engaging another greave kick to close the gap and mixing it with a strike. But he blocked the baton and dodged the martial arts and she was starting to feel a sinking feeling about this one. Not like he was toying with her, exactly. Though he was laughing now, the handsome features of his face streaked with solidifying fabric goop looking like he was having the time of his life. But he was just way too fast for her to actually hit. He took two more strikes against the edges of her shield before she could even react, and Alex started to worry. She had a finite number of charges, and if she couldn¡¯t end the fight, then she¡¯d be in trouble when she ran out. The murderer laughed as Alex tried to hit him again, but that was mostly a secondary attack while she dumped a Survival Flare into his sword. It would heat quickly, and become unusable, but right now he didn¡¯t seem to either notice or care, and she wasn¡¯t sure how long it would take to work. Not to mention she couldn¡¯t keep using Climb spells in a fight like this. She wasn¡¯t really good at planning mid fight, and all she knew right now was that this wasn¡¯t going the way she wanted it to, and she needed to get Sapphire and get out. Which she could do. Maneuvering around a scarred wooden power pole, Alex turned and bolted for her friend, who was punching against the apparently solid air. Abandoning her baton with a clatter to the street to pull her telepad out, she winced as the shield flickered around her from a strike to her back, and the mental readout that she¡¯d gotten in the habit of having up at all times told that she had one left. And eight minutes before the next recovery. She reached out to grab Sapphire, which was when the murderer must have realized she had some kind of escape plan, and shifted to stabbing at her friend. He blurred across the sidewalk and bit of road, ending up beside the girl in a second. And Alex, knowing that a normal human couldn¡¯t take a hit from a magically enhanced murderer, used another of her plentiful greave charges to kick her way between the two of them at a speed that wasn¡¯t quite as fast as her enemy but still got her there in time. The sword bounced off the shield. And then his fist hit her in the jaw, hard enough that it would have shattered her face if not for her purple orbs. ¡°Oh, so it¡¯s just the sword then? Fascinating! I¡¯d love to swap notes sometime!¡± He laughed as he dropped his sword, the metal leaving heat lines in the cooling air now. ¡°Does it work on this one?¡± He kicked the rapier he¡¯d thrown on the ground for Sapphire to ¡®use¡¯, and assumed a fencing pose. ¡°Maybe we won¡¯t have time for notes after all.¡± Alex, hand reaching behind her and grasping for Sapphire¡¯s hand, faced him down with a cocky grin. ¡°Try it and find out.¡± She said with a shrug, not wanting to let on that she was now entirely out of shield charges. ¡±I think I will!¡± He laughed. ¡°It¡¯s a shame to kill you. No one else has had any fun so far.¡± The murderer sounded disappointed, but still lunged forward again in sloppy but still too-fast form, just as Sapphire¡¯s hand slapped into Alex¡¯s, and she tore the telepad with her teeth. The blade was an inch into her chin and starting to slice sideways when she vanished. And as Alex and Sapphire landed back in the dorm room, the two of them both screamed. Pain that wasn¡¯t pain wracked her body, something she couldn¡¯t quite name pulling itself out of her muscles, her blood, her bones, her self. Lines of sparking lightning ripping out of her and pulling back before vanishing. Then it was over. And Alex gasped for breath, blood dripping onto the little area rug that covered the polished stone floor of the room. She tried to push herself up, but stumbled. She wasn¡¯t¡­ right. She wasn¡¯t moving right. She tried again, and started to figure out why she wasn¡¯t moving right. It didn¡¯t take her long to figure it out. She was slower than she should be. ¡°S-shit.¡± Alex¡¯s cough was the first word spoken as she helped Sapphire up. ¡°Second. Not a second person. A second in a duel. And we lost when we ran. Did he say anything to you?¡± She asked, and instantly regretted it, as her helper was currently sobbing and struggling to make her hands work properly. Alex pulled herself to her feet. Her friend came first. And after that, she was going to have to figure out how to stop someone who was not only faster than her, but had just stolen some of her ability. Because there was no way she was going to let this go. And she¡¯d need a real actual plan to pull it off. But she was a paladin. And she wasn¡¯t done until she was dead. Maybe not even then! Maybe ghosts were real! Alex was optimistic, even now, in the face of this. She helped Sapphire over to the bed, even as she started compiling a report for the Order, just in case she needed serious help. But she already had some ideas; once the fight was over, and the adrenaline and pain was gone, Alex was actually really good at planning. And now, she was pretty sure, she knew enough to skewer her opposition. He¡¯d stolen her speed. She was going to steal his smile. ____ There were a lot of nice restaurants around the legislature building in Montevideo, Simon was finding. At first, it made sense. The people who worked here were politicians, and discussions and deals over lunch was a time honored tradition. But during his time in the city, he¡¯d had multiple occasions to get lunch around his hotel, which was pretty far away from the government building, and it turned out, Montevideo just¡­ had a lot of good restaurants everywhere. A little less variety than back home, but not by much, and it was lightly amusing to him that there was a single aspect that crossed all cultural boundaries. There was no way to know from looking at a place how good it was. The fancy outdoor pavilion with the garden sculptures and the overpriced drinks was exactly as likely to be the best thing you¡¯d ever tasted as the restaurant under an overpass where you ate at camp tables and the kitchen was built in what used to be a public bathroom. Simon loved it, but he was also aware that he loved it because his old companion would have loved it. Still did love it, through him, really. James - the James that had died - was into the experience of chaotic life like this. Into the way that sometimes even terrible experiences were still fun. And Simon, inheritor of what remained of his soul, now was into that too. One of his two leveler earrings drained charges as he walked through the restaurant toward the person he wanted to meet. This place was nice. Back home it would be so far outside his ability to afford it that he never would have set foot inside, but here, the economy was a little more flattened, so things were generally more affordable even if the upper end was lower. That was, in Simon¡¯s professional communist opinion, generally good. The clink of silverware on plates, the chatter mostly in Spanish, the pleasant atmosphere of white stone and gold decorations, the fashion styles that were familiar but different than home, it made the restaurant seem like another world to him. Briefly, Simon wondered if this was how camracondas felt. He¡¯d have to ask Spire next time he saw her; he didn¡¯t have a camraconda in his errancy team, but the two paladins had plans to meet up later in the month if they didn¡¯t decide they were ready to go back. Simon sat down at a table that was occupied by three other people and flanked by a pair of standing bodyguards. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± He said with a smile, keeping an eye on how the earring power that let him avoid hostile notice was slowly ticking down on uses. One of the two men at the table, with voluminous blonde hair and a flat face, looked at him in confusion. ¡°Excuse me. Where did you come from?¡± He asked, glancing at his bodyguards. ¡±Outside.¡± Simon said. ¡°Though you mean how did I get here? Magic.¡± He smiled, hoping that he¡¯d improved his smiling game enough. The way he smiled had always been a little¡­ angry looking. ¡±Did you bribe someone to be let in?¡± The other man asked. He was older though probably still in his forties, with thinning hair and narrow eyes, a few scars on his chubby face to go with an equal number of laugh lines. ¡°Are we being threatened? By a foreigner no less! Oh, it¡¯s been a quick minute since that¡¯s happened!¡± He seemed almost pleased by the situation as he cut a strip off his steak and took a grinning bite. Simon liked him immediately. It was hard not to; he¡¯d gotten into a habit of liking a certain style of person in the Order, and that style tended to be the kind of people the Order jumped at the chance to hire. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not a threat.¡± He said, speaking a little slowly so his magically learned Spanish could come across clearly. A couple skill ranks and a processed .mem only went so far. ¡°I honestly just couldn¡¯t get ahold of your office.¡± The president of Uruguay sighed. ¡°You aren¡¯t the first foreigner to find me at lunch to ask for a ¡®favor¡¯, and I doubt you¡¯ll be the last.¡± He said, seeming to rapidly lose interest in Simon, turning back to his meal and the open folder he was reading from on his side. The woman at the table, dressed in a folded tan garment that Simon didn¡¯t come close to knowing the name of, spoke up. ¡°Yes Get on with it. We do have jobs to do.¡± ¡°Ah, thank you.¡± Simon took a glass of water from a waiter who had no trouble seeing through his earrings, and sipped at the cool liquid. ¡°Sorry, to be clear, I am here for you, Ms. Bouvier, not anyone else. No offense, mister president, but I didn¡¯t actually think you were the right person to talk to.¡± There was a pause as all three of the politicians looked at Simon. Their lunch set aside as they appraised him. Ms. Bouvier spoke slowly, perhaps matching his own incomplete grasp of the language out of politeness. ¡°Why is my office difficult to get ahold of? I¡¯m a busy woman but you should be able to leave a message.¡± ¡±Magic, probably.¡± Simon sighed. ¡°Also if I say that, they hang up on me on the phone.¡± The older man chuckled around the fork in his mouth, pulling it out with a flourish to point Simon¡¯s way and speaking as he chewed. ¡°You cannot actually-¡° ¡°You are the man responsible for my daughter¡¯s life.¡± The president said suddenly, leaning forward as he realized something important. Simon winced. ¡°¡­Yes. But I¡¯d rather not bring that up.¡± ¡°Luis?¡± The woman asked softly. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡±Three days ago, someone broke into the hospice care ward at St. Marta¡¯s.¡± The man said slowly, voice low as he stared at Simon with sharp eyes. Looking for something, almost predatory. ¡°The incident was almost not reported, but I keep an eye on the hospital. You might know why.¡± Simon nodded as he sipped from his water again. The man who was pointing a fork at him lowered it. ¡°Your daughter?¡± He asked his fellow politician. ¡°Was there-¡° ¡±As of this morning, almost half of the ward is empty, and the staff are continuing checkups on the rest.¡± The president said. ¡°They weren¡¯t prepared for so many people to survive.¡± There was a laugh from a nearby table, a swell of voices and noise. Simon lost another earring change, and drank half his water to try to buy some conversation space. Then he sighed. ¡°Do you know what you get when you save someone?¡± A pause. He took another sip before setting the glass down, though he kept his hand wrapped around it for the cool sensation. ¡°People think it¡¯s a thankless job, but it¡¯s not. You get too much. Save a life, and more often than not, people will think they owe you. Not just the people you saved either.¡± He extended a finger off the glass to point at the president. ¡°Me, my team, my people, we¡¯re not interested in extorting you for a favor. That¡¯s not how we work. Gratitude is one thing, but this isn¡¯t a personal meeting for fun. This is about something important, and I want it to be evaluated for what it is, and not for what you think you owe me.¡± ¡°And what is this meeting, that you wanted to start with my office?¡± Ms. Bouvier asked. ¡°Mister wizard. With your mysterious ways that has the president¡¯s bodyguards not looking at you? And, I assume, the reason that our defense minister has been texting us about foreign agents in Montevideo.¡± ¡°Well¡­ I wanted to ask about large scale immigration.¡± Simon said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and fidgeting with the skulljack clip. ¡°Your country is¡­ quite pleasant. Not totally perfect, but after being here even for a little bit, it feels like you¡¯re the only adults in the room when it comes to being a nation. And I, personally, am interested in making sure that a group of disenfranchised people have a place to call home. A real home. The kind of home that can be a world to them, and not just a temporary sanctuary.¡± ¡°And you are coming to me directly, during a lunch you should not have been let into, because¡­?¡± She stared at him with alert and intelligent eyes, brushing a hand through the air to sideline whatever her colleague was going to sy. Simon smiled slightly. ¡°Because they aren¡¯t human.¡± He said simply, pressing through the sudden vibe of contemptuous disbelief. ¡°And because I don¡¯t just want you to let them into the country. I want you to lead your people in accepting them.¡± ¡°Assuming I believe you-¡° The president cleared his throat. ¡°I would believe him, Chell. I¡­ will tell you why after lunch.¡± He looked around the restaurant; the climate down here was such that the president could dine out in public without it being a spectacle, but saying state secrets out loud was never smart. There were at least a few people here who weren¡¯t having a nice day out, but were hoping for a piece of information from him or his ministers. Reporters, mostly. The information clearly shook the woman, but she recovered herself, channeling her confusion into a demand of Simon ¡°¡­ why?¡± She asked. He shrugged. ¡°Because they deserve it. Our goal, our long term goal, is to do a lot of what you¡¯re doing, but everywhere. Democracy, dignity, freedom, happiness, these are our priorities. But right now, we¡¯ve got refugee groups that we¡¯re going to run out of the ability to support on our own. And you are both small enough to be open to a rapid change, while also large enough to stand on the world stage and announce your support in a meaningful way.¡± ¡°How inhuman?¡± ¡°Chell, you cannot be taking this-¡° The man who had looked almost playful before now looked more like the kind of person who had earned his scars, and was frowning unhappily at Simon as he addressed his colleague. ¡°How inhuman.¡± She reiterated. Simon held back another shrug. ¡°Uh¡­ differing levels? There¡¯s a few species.¡± He ignored the sigh and the comment about how of course there was more than one. ¡°The most problematic might be the camracondas, in terms of physical compatibility with social life. They¡¯re basically just big snakes though. Ratroaches are a lot more concerning to human standards, because they¡¯re¡­ rodent and bug parts slapped together, basically. Infomorphs are just not even physical objects if they don¡¯t want to be, and they¡¯re probably the most worrying in a lot of ways. Definitely not human in how they look.¡± ¡°Not dogs then?¡± The president commented quietly. Quietly enough that Simon knew he wasn¡¯t expecting to be heard. More of a mutter under his breath and the noise of the restaurant. ¡°That¡¯s reassuring and worrying.¡± ¡±So you explained why you chose here. But why them?¡± The minister asked, not hearing her dining companion. ¡±I did explain. Because they deserve it. Because they were¡­ slaves. Artificial creations made to be soldiers, or victims, or both. They deserve a chance to live like people. And they are people, no matter how different they look, and I believe your country is the kind of place that can accept that.¡± He smiled sadly. ¡°A place to start. Start to help them heal, and start to build a better tomorrow.¡± The woman sat back, looking at Simon with a critical eye. But as he spoke, her gaze softened. Something in what he said seemed to reach her. She was responsible for quite a few things, and her office often had to say no to ideas that she would have preferred not to. But that didn¡¯t make her a monster, and it didn¡¯t make her cruel. In fact, she prided herself on her fairness without the cruelty, a pairing that didn¡¯t exist as many in her field justified themselves. So when she spoke next, it surprised the two men at the table. ¡°On behalf of the government and people of Uruguay, I would be interested in hearing your proposal.¡± She said. ¡±Chell, you cannot-¡° ¡±Oh, hush.¡± She chided the man. ¡°I don¡¯t tell you how to do business, you don¡¯t tell me how to manage population.¡± ¡±You tell me how to do business daily!¡± He reminded her. ¡°This is insane!¡± ¡±This is, if it is real, something important.¡± She said, standing from her chair as Simon lost another earring charge. ¡°An opportunity. And I have every intent of taking it. Now, would you be so kind as to escort me to my office? We can have a discussion somewhere more private.¡± ¡±Ma¡¯am, I¡¯d be happy to.¡± Simon said, genuinely not expecting the level of immediate interest. It was a day where no one seemed to get what they were expecting. Least of all Ms. Bouvier, who was somewhat shocked to learn teleportation was an option. But it certainly beat taking a cab. _____ How big had Ophiem been? Spire-Cast-Behind wondered about it in a very active camraconda way. In an alert pose at the edge of the slowly faltering human settlement, staring out past the obstructions toward the flat dry grassland that covered everything except the road stretching out of sight. She rolled the thought over in her mind. This place had been, if not economically viable, then at least popular enough for some people to settle down. Have families. Live and grow and eventually die here. The idea of living for thirty years felt ancient to her. Akin to the sensation of the time she was enticed to a swim in the ocean and she acutely felt the uncaring abyss open up underneath her body when the sand was out of view. The fact that humans lived to be a hundred years if they weren¡¯t killed or lacked medical care was, frankly, stupid. That was too long. But maybe she¡¯d make it there one day herself. Maybe she could do that. Spire didn¡¯t know how long she wanted to live, but she did feel like every day she was interested in seeing tomorrow, and that didn¡¯t seem like it would ever stop. Maybe a hundred wasn¡¯t so bad. Ophiem had lasted more than a hundred years, but only on a technicality. What was left had replaced the original buildings, and it had itself degraded over time. With nothing to replace these structures, they slowly accrued maintenance needs that weren''t met, damage that wasn¡¯t fixed. Until eventually they¡¯d be demolished or just abandoned in the wind. And she didn¡¯t really, honestly, know if that was because of simple human economic forces, or because of something like her. ¡±Hey dude.¡± Tyrone, one of her companions on this long trip, stepped up beside her at the edge of town, taking a short drink of coffee from the thermos he carried. ¡°Riho called. Says the state records are wrong but she can¡¯t prove it.¡± Spire hissed in frustration. ¡±I wonder.¡± She said, staring out at the sunset, asking herself if tonight was the night that more creatures of smoke and solidified orange light would reveal themselves. If tonight was when the written statistics would skew farther from reality. ¡°How many people were there?¡± ¡±No way to tell.¡± Tyrone was, normally, boisterous to the point of being irritating, constantly excited, and possessed of a lot of very dumb opinions about dungeon life that he enjoyed sharing. So it worried Spire-Cast-Behind immensely that he was currently being serious, tapping the thermos on his leg as one hand rearranged parts of the ongoing explosion of hair on his head. ¡°But hey, at least we know it wasn¡¯t too big, right?¡± He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Spire gave a bobbing nod anyway. The city of Ophiem had, if not a clear border, at least an obvious area it occupied beyond which nothing had ever been built, except the nearby military base, which was even more abandoned than the town. But it still didn¡¯t feel right. It felt like she was missing something. ¡±Authority.¡± Spire said calmly. She didn¡¯t need to speak, but it felt good to focus what she needed through her digital words. ¡°Prioritize protecting me from mental attacks.¡± ¡±I¡¯ve gotta get one of those.¡± Tyrone laughed. ¡°They¡¯re like infomorph dogs, right? I could totally manage an infomorph dog.¡± The camraconda flexed her mechanical arms, doing a quick motion check as she made sure all her gear was at hand. ¡°You could not.¡± She said, hissing a small note of amusement. ¡°You approach responsibility and leadership in the way that James says he does. You would kill an authority faster than Momo kills houseplants.¡± ¡±Didn¡¯t Momo make Tyranadonny? She seems like she¡¯s doing fine, so it can¡¯t be that bad.¡± Tyrone tried to lighten the mood. ¡±Tyranadonny is the natural end result of several dozen failures to grow basil, I think.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind turned, letting herself look away from the empty plain around the edge of town. A few hundred feet away, the nearest template-built ranch home sat with the lights off. In the broad and cracked street in front of it, a young man tried to pretend he wasn¡¯t eagerly waiting for her. Karl was pretending he was playing soccer with an invisible opponent, occasionally bouncing the ball he had off the curb and juggling it for a few taps before letting it drop again. She envied him his dexterity and his limbs, though not his place in this city. Spire-Cast-Behind felt more than ever like this place was going through a quiet apocalypse. But now, now that she knew that there was other dungeon life around, she wondered. How much was because of things like her? Was she the end of the world? The Order knew it was coming, but it was all wrapped up in cryptic warnings and vague non-promises. And she asked herself if, maybe, she was a part of what was feared. The end not of life, but of normalcy. The end of the ability of normal humans to ignore the smoke creatures on the edge of their territory. Spire didn¡¯t like to think of herself as an end of the world. Especially when she was supposed to be saving it. It didn¡¯t feel like what a paladin was supposed to do. As she and Tyrone moved to head back to their temporary lodging, she almost hit a mailbox. Not especially uncommon around here, but it did make her twitch in alarm, because she had excellent spatial awareness, and the mailbox certainly hadn¡¯t been there earlier. Jerking backward, Spire heard broken glass crunch underneath her, feeling it scrape against the plate covering she was wearing. Whipping her head around, camera eye working frantically to focus, she tried to see what was happening even as Tyrone just walked off, ignoring the debris suddenly around them and talking about they should go to the tropics next so he could teach her to surf. And teach himself to surf. Spire ignored him as she focused on the pile of flattened rubble that she¡¯d been sitting in. It sat at the end of one of the town¡¯s few roads, under the same thin sunlit grey clouds as all the others. But she would have sworn on her life that she had been sitting in¡­ not the grass, not on the open plain, but somewhere that wasn¡¯t this. ¡±Yo dude! You coming?¡± Tyrone called, and Spire whipped around to face him, about to yell for him to stop and look. Then she saw what was behind him. On the other side of the empty and cracked pavement, there was another demolished heap. This one with a rusted pickup truck sitting in front of it, and its roof collapsed with a single wall still standing. It had been one of these ranch homes once, but now it was just a broken hole in the map, and Spire hadn¡¯t even seen it until right now. Until she told her authority to protect her. ¡±You have to get out of here.¡± She told Tyrone. ¡°We all have to get out of here.¡± His joking mood coasted on momentum until he realized she wasn¡¯t kidding. ¡°Okay. Sure, yeah. What¡¯s up?¡± Spire looked back through the broken window she¡¯d been sitting in front of, in the collapsed and weather damaged half of a house that she¡¯d been in the middle of. The paladin looked out over the next street, with its own sporadic line of dilapidated and partially collapsed structures. Looked to the next street, where some of the buildings weren¡¯t copy and pasted ranch homes, but were faded brick, maybe old businesses or government buildings. Obstructions. She¡¯d thought they were¡­ obstructions. She had seen them, and just looked past them, watching the endless grass beyond through the gaps between and filtering out what she was looking at. ¡±Something has been killing this city.¡± She said. ¡°And we need to evacuate the civilians, because I do not know if it has stopped.¡± ¡°¡­Is it going to eat me, right now?¡± Tyrone asked, looking around himself, hands held out in odd little claw shapes that didn¡¯t do anything but mostly happened because he had no idea if he was supposed to be punching something or grabbing something or just running. Spire hissed a sigh. ¡°No. I was being dramatic.¡± She paused, and hissed again sharply. ¡°But not by much. Come. We have people to speak to.¡± The camraconda paladin felt like the solution here was simple, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t be in reality. She was too used to the fact that ¡®home¡¯ could change on a day to day basis. That sometimes you had to leave everything you knew. That monsters required fast action, or you¡¯d pay for it. She just hoped it wouldn¡¯t be too difficult to make everyone understand. Chapter 297 (Part 2) _____ Debriefing Sapphire had come after the girl had a chance to down some painkillers, eat some of the technically illegal special cookies Alex had brought, and take a shower. Alex was understanding. It hadn¡¯t been too long ago that she was a civilian herself. Technically she still was, probably; Alex didn¡¯t know what ¡®civilian¡¯ meant anymore. But she fought bad guys, and was capable of walking off explosions, so she prooooooobably didn¡¯t count. Getting information out of her, and putting it all together, had been something Alex needed to work on learning. So she¡¯d sent a message and used some of her special paladin budget to have a few yellow orbs delivered. [+2 Skill Ranks : Templating - Policing - Crime Scene Investigations] [+1 Skill Rank : Acting - Improv - Drama] The first one seemed like the kind of thing the rogues would have in high demand, and Alex was lucky she was a paladin to get quick access to a copy. The second one was mostly on hand for Ceaseless Stacks adventures, for what she was told were obvious reasons, but she hadn¡¯t actually been in that dungeon yet. It was on her list! She had a list, of dungeons, and that made her feel both baffled and a little guilty. Maybe she wasn¡¯t a great fit for the Order if she wasn¡¯t jumping at the chance to delve everything they had? It didn¡¯t matter. The point was, she had, with her own experience and the parts Sapphire had heard that she hadn¡¯t, put together what she hoped was a useful model of how the murderer¡¯s magic worked. He needed to wait, after setting conditions. Sapphire confirmed that he¡¯d spoken with long pauses, but the only time he did that to Alex was when he¡¯d called her a ¡®second¡¯. So he was, she was pretty sure, giving the magic time to ¡®sink in¡¯. Some kind of requirement of the ritual. That was why she¡¯d gotten the improv orb. Because if his magic worked at all like the Stack¡¯s own bards did, that meant there was something in there that she could work with. During the duel - he¡¯d called it something about glass, Sapphire told her - the killer had also specified that the fight was with blades, which might have been why Alex¡¯s baton and attempt to kick his knee in half hadn¡¯t worked as intended. She should have actually grabbed the dropped blade. That part, she didn¡¯t know if it was the magic that compelled him, or if he was just an asshole looking for the rush of a fight. Since she couldn¡¯t bank on the former, Alex brought her own sword. As well as one other thing, which tied into her plan. Alex had called in a consultation with some of Research, and they¡¯d largely agreed that if it was actually formatted as a duel, then there was a high likelihood that the magic worked both ways. That whoever ¡®won¡¯ got the reward. Which was what Alex needed to hear, because she felt wrong with her movements too slow and her body too sluggish. Not by much, but by enough that it made her feel like she was sick, almost. And if she could take it back, well¡­ After that, it was a lot of coffee and a little exercise potion that she probably shouldn¡¯t have taken with her neck still injured, while Alex scrolled through hundreds of student records and looked for anyone she recognized as her assailant. Filtering the school¡¯s database with its surprisingly robust tools by gender and hair color, she still had a lot to go through. But she wasn¡¯t looking for details, just a picture. So she focused, even when her eyes started to hurt, and kept hitting the ¡®next entry¡¯ button until she found what she needed. The thought only occurred to her after she¡¯d made sure Saph was in a safe place away from her dorm and with another friend that Alex had never once considered that maybe she wasn¡¯t going to seek a rematch. Of course she was. Not only had he taken something from her that she needed as a paladin, he¡¯d also proven that he wasn¡¯t going to stop. He was killing people. People like her. Any one of them could have been her, if the timeline had been slightly different. It wasn¡¯t right, went the thought spinning through Alex¡¯s head over and over. No one should have the power to kill like that. Not even her. Maybe especially not her, because right now, she wanted to use her own power to murder him right back. But she did have the power to fight back, and so she was going to use it. And it clicked for her, abruptly. That was all it took, that was what paladins did, what the Order of Endless Rooms did. They had the power to act, so they acted, because it was better to do good a little recklessly than to sit back and let this bullshit happen. She also wasn¡¯t planning to go to the police. Partly because the Order had bad experiences with the Long Arm Of The Law, and partly because¡­ well, cops were still people, even if they often were shitty people. No one deserved to be used as cannon fodder against someone who could teleport and cut through someone who was twice as tough as they should be thanks to her authority. Alex could handle this; no one else had to get hurt. Armed, tactically prepared, and with a few shield bracer charges restored, Alex walked out into the university¡¯s campus, and cast a spell. Call to Blood needed a name. But she¡¯d seen Bruce Rothschild¡¯s face, and she had way too much access to files she shouldn¡¯t, so his name had been one of the easiest things to find. Maintaining the spell took Breath, but Alex had that to spare, and half her oxygenation potion ration kept it from being a problem. Though she did get chilly, with the night ending and a cool fog rising. The first place it took her was an engineering classroom, in a building she wasn¡¯t supposed to be in. Not wanting to waste time, Alex broke the window in one of the two doors, let herself in, and cast the spell again from the middle of the dark classroom, getting another line of direction to the next to last place that Bruce had been cut. And that took her to a dorm. Specifically the boy¡¯s student housing building, a place that felt more like an institution than a residential structure. Alex didn''t know why she felt like that was an important distinction. At four AM, there were still a few people up studying in the common room, and Alex got one of them to let her in. She didn¡¯t bother pretending to be a fed or answering their questions, just moved toward where Call To Blood pulled her, going upstairs and deeper into the halls of a place that looked like a perversely alive version of somewhere she¡¯d been before in Winter¡¯s Climb. She might have lived her college life in the wrong order. When she got to Bruce¡¯s door, Alex had taken a deep breath, checked the starkly lit hall in both directions to make sure no one was there, and then knocked. Feeling her heart speed up as she heard footsteps approaching with a shuffle that was either tired, or cautious. The door swung open, and a familiar face looked back at her without realizing who he was looking at. The man standing before her in a suave red bathrobe with elegantly disheveled hair giving Alex a half-smile and a glassy stare. ¡°Hey there, what¡¯s-¡° He cut off with a high pitched noise that was half scream and half gurgle as Alex slammed a greave-augmented kick into his balls. Lifting him off the floor with the force, and using the momentum to shove him backward into his personal apartment and down to the carpet. It was much, much nicer than Sapphire¡¯s room, Alex noted. He had carpet, for one thing. Nicer than any of the dorms she¡¯d visited in her time here. This was a whole little studio apartment. He must be rich, or he¡¯d murdered his way into better accommodations, and either way, she hated it. ¡±Hey there.¡± Alex said, struggling and only partly succeeding to keep her voice from shaking as she stepped inside and shut the door behind her. ¡°We¡¯ve been trying to reach you about your car¡¯s extended warranty.¡± ¡±Y-you bitch!¡± He coughed out, rolling to his knees, tiny electric sparks dancing on his legs and arms. ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Alex answered by trying to kick him in the head, but despite the pain, he was already moving and he rolled sideways to reach under his bed and come up with a different sword than before. ¡°Oh, back to stabbing?¡± Alex asked, taunting. ¡°That didn¡¯t work for you last time.¡± ¡±It worked fine.¡± He snarled, clearly unhappy to have had his sleep or apartment invaded. He tried to slash at her, but the shield caught it, and Alex just smiled and spread her arms. ¡°Fine, you want a fight?¡± The sickly handsome smile crept back onto his face as his eyes flicked to the side like he was reading something. Alex recognized the motion; people did it when they got orbs or checked leveler items, even though you weren¡¯t actually ¡®reading¡¯ anything. ¡±No, I came here from the future and killed your potential kids because I want to have a chat.¡± Alex rolled her eyes in the kind of partial way that let her keep him in her vision, voice dripping sarcasm. ¡°What, too hard when someone actually fights back?¡± ¡°Oh, I love a woman who fights back.¡± He laughed, spreading his arms. ¡°The Duel of Tense Glass, here and now.¡± He intoned, and Alex felt for where the words met the spell that was being lain on them. She couldn¡¯t sense it; humans didn¡¯t have an organ for mana perception or whatever. But she could smell broken glass, so faint it might just be from a case of vandalism from somewhere else in the dorm, but there nonetheless. It echoed with the words, waiting. Waiting in a way she recognized from the Order¡¯s notes. Waiting the same way people described how the bards in the Library waited. Not pausing in time, but leaving an opening with a hinted expectation. She tried not to smile. She¡¯d been right. The killer, Bruce, paused too; needing to let her take the next step if she chose to, before he could speak again. He stumbled back a couple steps, sword in hand, as he watched her. An opening that Alex filled, speaking steady and clear, pushing back the seconds before the spell¡¯s trap snapped closed. ¡°Agreed. Three strikes apiece, loser shall be the worst injured.¡± Her own voice shifted, language unfamiliar to her coming out and signaling that she¡¯d fallen into the magic¡¯s groove correctly. He bared his teeth at her, almost like she¡¯d caused some grievous harm already. ¡±Agreed. Blades only. None of that stupid force field this time!¡± That was what he wanted. To force her to comply with letting him shove the blade through her flesh unopposed. It was transparent, and it was exactly what she¡¯d invited him to zero in on. She saw the spell¡¯s opening, and took it, forcing herself to not grin maliciously at the bastard. ¡°Weapons only. Your weapon,¡± Alex inclined her chin at him, and tapped the hilt of the blade on her hip, ¡°against mine. Agreed?¡± Bruce tipped his head down, eyes glinting at her as a horridly good looking smile stretched across his face. And Alex knew, in that moment, that he was savoring this. He was a killer, yes, and a monster too. But she¡¯d realized in their first fight what he wanted. Not just to be powerful or to feel the rush of violence, but to feel like he¡¯d earned it. Oh, it was framed as if he wanted a challenge, like he was pretending that he wanted people to fight back because he loved the fights. But really it was just a part of his superiority complex; if people struggled and he won, it made him feel stronger. More real. Alex challenging him made him feel like he was getting what he wanted. A woman that would struggle, so he could feel even better about his murder, because it would prove that he deserved it. So he smiled at her, and said ¡°Agreed.¡± And the spell closed, and Alex felt the trap seal in along with the ring of broken air around them. It stopped at the room¡¯s walls, but it was still there. The arena for their fight demarcated in an otherworldly way. Her term countering his, because he had¡­ not cheated, but unbalanced the magic. He had said two things at once. And Alex had followed the vibe of the duel spell, which demanded fairness, and accepted one condition. Replacing the other with her own, disguised as grim acceptance. She should take some improv classes when she got back. This kind of vibe based verbal sparring would be really cool if someone wasn¡¯t about to knife her. The fight started. But she could feel the arrogance of her opponent as she drew her sword in time with him, could sense the way he vibrated with excitement to get started hacking her apart. And Alex knew she¡¯d already won. Bruce lunged for her, and Alex let go of her sword, got her arm in the way, and let the tip of the rapier go right through her shirt and forearm, scraping against the bone. Too slow, she¡¯d been too slow to use Mountain of the Self; not even her timing was enough to let her get it right this time. She screamed, the pain way more than she had expected, and Bruce actually flinched as she wrenched the skewered limb sideways and tugged at the weapon he was holding. He stepped slightly to the side, bumping his leg against his bed frame. Eyes flicked down to check the line of movement, and despite being slowed, Alex was prepared for this opening. Her main hand drew the concealed handgun and shot Bruce twice. Once in the stomach, once in the solar plexus as she brought her aim up. Blood splattered out, the pressure of the shots forcing the vital fluid in sprays across the carpet, the bed, and Alex¡¯s front. The gunshots were deafeningly loud in the dorm, even with the earplugs she¡¯d worn. The sword dropped from his grip, sliding back out of Alex¡¯s arm to thud to the floor coated in her blood. He looked down at the gun in her grip, one hand slowly coming up to clench at the bleeding wounds in his body. ¡°Wh¡­ you¡­?¡± He looked back up at her, trying to figure out what had happened. Or maybe not even that, maybe just unable to think at all through the shock and pain. ¡±Surrender.¡± Alex said pleadingly, still holding the gun as she stepped back. ¡°Please surrender.¡± ¡±I¡­I can¡¯t.¡± He muttered, voice coming out stupefied. ¡°I¡¯ll lose it all. I can¡¯t. I¡¯ve got¡­ I¡¯ve got two hits left. I can¡­ I can kill you. It¡¯s still fine.¡± It was almost begging. Like if he asked nicely, Alex would let him slit her throat so he wouldn¡¯t lose his magical ability to murder young women so he could steal their speed. The fucking idiot. The rage came back. Alex had a whole thing prepared; she¡¯d contacted Recovery, they¡¯d set up a containment and rehabilitation plan for someone with his known powers and mindset, she¡¯d had every intention of taking him alive and helping him. And even now, with the fight clearly over and his own need for immediate medical attention at an all time high, all he could think about was losing a tiny bit of power. Magic that was replaceable, that he¡¯d fucking gotten by murdering people. Bruce flickered with his electric motes as he knelt, knees slamming into the carpet when he rolled for his fallen sword and came up in a lunge, planning to cut Alex in half and hope that the magic of the duel would put him back together somehow. Or at least make him fast enough to get to the hospital. After all, he¡¯d never gotten so much as when he¡¯d beaten her the first time; doing it again¡­ it would be enough. It had to be. At the end of his roll, Alex put a perfectly timed shot through his face. Her third strike, and Bruce¡¯s last. She hadn¡¯t even meant to; she was going to hesitate, going to give him another chance. But then he¡¯d shocked her, and her Timing had set it up for her, and¡­ The seed round, the third shot she¡¯d loaded just in case, went through his head and turned to vapor on the other side, leaving a crater of gore and a circular Pollock painting on the back wall around the dorm¡¯s radiator and third floor window. Lightning, black and white and blue, arced from the corpse into Alex¡¯s body with a sensation of pleasure she did not welcome. Getting back what was taken from her, and then some. And then a lot of some, it felt like. More and more, until her bones felt like they were full to bursting, and then the lightning stopped. Two weeks ago, at Explain Movies To New Life Including Ratroaches And Human Kids night, they¡¯d watched Highlander. And Alex had told everyone that it was not a documentary, which was something that came up sometimes in a world where magic was real. It was also, apparently, a fucking lie. The thought made her start laughing. Then crying. Then just making noises she couldn¡¯t understand as she worked to pull herself together, holding the hole in her arm shut while she swept up the twenty empty seed rounds that had dropped from Bruce¡¯s glassy eyed body. She had to get out of here before someone came checking on the weapons fire. And as she stepped out, there were a lot of people in the hall that were clearly panicking. Alex moved with the confidence of someone who knew what was going on, saying impolite ¡®excuse me¡¯s and shouldering through everyone as she got back to the front door, and walked out into the dawn light. Halfway across the quad, she took a seat on a bench, and started fishing for a telepad. She needed to get medical attention. Which was when a polite elderly voice caught her attention. ¡±That looks pretty bad there, young lady.¡± Alex looked up to see an old man, grey hair and a skinny face with sunken cheeks and drooping skin, but with a flinty look in his eyes. ¡°How¡¯d that happen?¡± Alex was about to say it was nothing, but then she noticed that the man wasn¡¯t alone; there were two other old folks in a loose triangle around her bench, and while the man in front of her had his hands in his coat pockets, the others were carrying shotguns. So she opted for honesty, and got ready to use a greave charge while she set her shield bracer for buckshot. ¡±Got in a fight with a serial killer.¡± She said. The man pursed his lips, nodding with a bobbing motion like he was part bird. ¡°Could be, could be.¡± He flicked his eyes over to one of his companions. ¡°You win?¡± Alex met his gaze. ¡°I killed him.¡± She said. ¡°I don¡¯t feel like I won.¡± At that, his eyes softened. ¡°It¡¯s like that.¡± He told her, offering her a hand up. ¡°Come along little lass. Let¡¯s get you patched up.¡± ¡±I¡¯d appreciate that.¡± Alex said, blinking back tears. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna pass out soon.¡± Paladin training hadn¡¯t really prepared her for this. And yet, there was something familiar about it all. Something she felt like she should latch onto. Alex wasn¡¯t sure she was a good paladin. But she took the offered hand, her own slick with blood, and stood to follow. Because good or not, she was going to keep trying, and there was something about this odd trio that merited investigation. At no point, ever, in the short history of the Order of Endless Rooms, was a paladin actually done. And Alex felt that in her fucking soul as she walked away from the campus battleground. _____ ¡°There is no right way for a paladin to succeed.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind spoke at a low volume to herself as she watched half the adults of the tiny cluster of structures that was Ophiem slowly filter away from where they¡¯d gathered in front of the bar. ¡°And today, I define success for myself as a safe evacuation.¡± Which was, actually, a problem. The sunset was lighting up the sky with a gradient of orange and red that was so tremendously large that it felt more like a solid object than a planet¡¯s atmosphere. And Spire knew that, at least among the creatures that she had found and fought, this was the time of day that they came out. There wasn¡¯t enough information. But that was often the way with magic and dungeons and life in general. You had to survive enough times to find patterns, and in order to do that, you had to guess. All the information Spire did have made it look like this town had died to two separate things. One of them was the slow slide into economic obscurity facilitated by the presence of capitalism, but the other one, arguably the less destructive one, was whatever had destroyed the outer section of the western side of the town. Physically, it was probably more intact than it had any right to be, but the destruction had taken place on a level that left a scar in perception; no one knew what had been lost. Even Tyrone and Riho couldn¡¯t see it, and Spire-Cast-Behind had flatly told them exactly where things were. ¡±So is the town haunted?¡± Karl asked her, the young human a little too excited about the prospect of something, anything, happening in his home. He had been hovering around Spire constantly since their encounter with the smoke creatures, and he assured her - like a liar - that his mother was fine with it. Spire had spoken to his mother. She did not believe Spire was real, but even if the camraconda was a person, she did not believe that her son should be spending time near her. Spire-Cast-Behind had adopted an emotional strategy for that situation that she called ¡°not caring¡±. She had more important things to do today. Like figure out how to get people to leave. No one had wanted to. She had explained the situation, explained the issue, explained the danger. And the response from the population that had bothered to show up was¡­ laughter. Disbelieving and bitter. Someone had thrown a bottle at her, and Spire stopping it midair before casually moving aside and letting it whisk past her head to smash on the bar¡¯s dirty front steps hadn¡¯t impressed anyone. ¡±I don¡¯t know.¡± She told Karl. ¡°I know there was some danger, but not if it is still active. I know that it is not safe here, and I can offer free relocation and support, which no one wishes to take.¡± ¡±A few people do.¡± The thin young man muttered. ¡°You could take us with you.¡± Spire looked up at him. Karl had been¡­ not pestering her, exactly. She knew, intimately, what it meant to be trapped somewhere. Though she did feel, perhaps unfairly, that he was being melodramatic, since nothing stopped him from just leaving. Or maybe something did. Maybe people who left never made it that far down the road. Maybe. Spire-Cast-Behind hated maybies. Mentally, she nudged the pale green ribbon around her neck that was her authority, just to check that it was still working. Dutifully, it gave the impression that it was following her command as best it could; which was not what it normally gave as a reply. Authorities didn¡¯t seem to get frustrated or irate, but they could falter. They could fail to accomplish a task. And that was what she felt was being communicated to her, in regards to whether it was successfully blocking any memory or perception alterations. ¡±Can you tell me what you aren¡¯t blocking?¡± Spire said at the lowest useful volume her artificial voice could manage, staring down the road to the north edge of town, wondering if maybe there was a different abandoned military base she should go investigate. ¡±What?¡± Karl asked. ¡±Not you.¡± She replied, listening to her authority as it said¡­ something. It said something. Authorities didn¡¯t really speak - or at least, none of the ones in the Order did - but Spire knew when her¡¯s was trying to say something more complex than it could really handle. Which was¡­ not good. ¡°Something is wrong.¡± She said out loud. ¡°But what? Tyrone! Tyrone where are you?¡± The camraconda raised herself up to the longest height she could manage, trying to see over the heads of people who were milling around and treating her request that they run for their lives as an impromptu garden party. The people of Ophiem were, if nothing else, always ready to take an excuse to get drunk with the neighbors they¡¯d known for thirty years. This did not seem healthy to Spire-Cast-Behind, but she wasn¡¯t human, so maybe there was a species specific thing she was missing. Either way, Tyrone came jogging up to her, elbowing his way through the crowd and getting a wake of narrow eyed looks and sneers as he passed. ¡°Sup?¡± He asked. ¡±Something is wrong. I am going to attempt to find what it is, but my authority is having difficulty protecting me. Take Karl and find the others who wish to leave, just in case.¡± ¡±On it boss lady!¡± Tyrone gave her a British naval salute for some reason, and clapped Karl on the shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s go round up your friends.¡± He said, projecting confidence as he distracted the human with some long and unrelated story about an Office delve while they walked away. Spire, meanwhile, slithered down the street, focused on the different methods the Order tried to work around memetic hazards. Checking the time, checking recordings from her skulljack of recent events, checking recordings from a normal camera of recent events, individually focusing on each of her seven senses to try to isolate aspects that shouldn¡¯t be there, and querying her authority constantly to check her mental work. Still there was nothing but the feeling that something was being successfully hidden from her, and the instinct of dread that had kept her alive for years in the harsh environment of a dungeon. Spire knew they had to get out of here, she just didn¡¯t know why. Or if they should be taking everyone with them, whether they asked or not. You didn¡¯t ask before removing someone from a burning building, after all. And yet for all her attempts to understand, all she could tell was that there was a vibrating in the ground that she couldn¡¯t place to a source, and some kind of noise in the air that was almost like a whistling. Though that sound cut off as she tried to place it, even as the vibrating increased. Spire-Cast-Behind kept slithering down the road, looking back and forth. There were only a few more houses out here; spaced out by a hundred feet, the one on her left sagging on its own raised foundation and currently housing a weathered human woman who gave Spire a wave from where she sat on a bench swing. Spire waved back, which was why she was looking that direction when the worm crashed to the ground behind the house. Calling it a worm was stupid, but it was the only thing she could think to compare it to. Five hundred feet back, in the bare dirt and scattered gravel on the edge of Ophiem, a beast made out of loops of solid amber light and black smoke finished its arc through the air and hit the ground. The rings that made up its body were suspended away from each other, and it tapered off, but even the one at the fore was fifty feet wide. The thing was monstrous, enormous, Spire could have fit her entire childhood home tower inside it with room to spare. And as it slammed into the dirt, it slipped into the ground like it was swimming into a placid pool of water. One by one, each ring sank underground, leaving only a series of ridges in the dirt to mark their passing until even the tail was gone. ¡±¡­Run.¡± Spire said, voice sounding normal even as terror overtook her. ¡°Run.¡± She broadcast louder to the woman on her front lawn. The human cocked her head at the camraconda and gave an amused snort, not moving to get up. She didn¡¯t seem to feel the rumble or hear the grinding of dirt and stone as the worm reemerged. It burst up out of the ground with a terrible force, spraying dust around itself as it arced into the air again. Closer this time, too close; it wasn¡¯t mindlessly roaming, it was aiming for the house. Aiming for the woman herself, Spire realized as she subconsciously did the math. The old human was dead center for where the featureless set of polished rings was going to land. Spire started to dart forward, putting on a burst of speed in a way that always surprised people when they learned camracondas could move that fast. Her version of a spring, closing the distance as fast as she could, one of her mechanical limbs snapping to life at a mental direction and pulling a telepad from its slot on her rigging. It would be tricky, she might have to bite the woman while pressing the telepad to one of them, but Spire could do it. She could make it. She could- The first ring of the monster fell from the sky, hitting the ground in a ring that encompassed most of the dry grass and struggling flowerbeds of the garden. The woman, sitting in the middle of it, didn¡¯t even seem to notice, though she did stop moving in her lawn chair. The force of the impact send up a plume of dirt into Spire¡¯s lens, some of it sucked down as she ran toward the human and causing her to give a rough camraconda style cough. The next segment of the creature came down. And the next. And Spire knew, even though she had almost made it, that she couldn¡¯t move fast enough to get through the gaps between the rings. But that wasn¡¯t the worst part. As it flowed over the building, Spire-Cast-Behind forgot what she was doing. She watched as the¡­ something. The thing humans built. Structure? Yes, that was the word, the structure was overlapped by the sunset orange rings of the worm, shifting and sliding but always staying tethered to each other despite the gaps of open air between them. Watched as the creature effortlessly dug into the ground. Through the gaps, she forgot the details of what those glass things were, then the clear objects, then the¡­ oh they probably had a name, but it didn¡¯t really matter. The badly warped box in front of the structure she quickly unrealized into a metal and rubber lump, and then just a mild distraction. There was something else in there too, making a noise. It started as a surprised laugh, before the mobile collection of organics forgot what laughing was, and it ceased motion to pile onto the ground in front of another small angular obstruction. Spire didn¡¯t know why that part had been moving around when the rest of the worm¡¯s food hadn¡¯t, but she felt uneasy about it. A queasy instinctive dread, just like she¡¯d been feeling all the way to where she was resting to watch the beast feed. Then the worm was past, a trench like a moat in the broken earth marking where the last ring had burrowed into the ground. The dirt and broken pavement filling in behind it as it tunneled away, first a soft shaking underneath them, before the sensation faded to nothing. Spire¡¯s authority, still operating under the last command to protect her mental security, tried to keep her from forgetting. And when that failed, it tried to let her see the crushed house in front of her, shattered glass and splintered wood and a fountain of fiberglass insulation in the air and a car shorn in half by the falling bulk of the huge worm creature, but the attack was too recent and Spire couldn¡¯t even understand that the thing had been a house, despite the authority¡¯s help. But it needed to help. So it did something different. Authorities were of very, very limited intelligence; they were kind of like exceptionally dumb dogs, but they could sometimes learn things beyond the abilities they picked up through their tethered bonds. And this one had learned that, when its commander was trying to remember things, she checked a video recording. So it pulled that from digital storage, and imprinted it over her vision. Converting digital media to a physical projection was taxing, but authorities were much more physical than most infomorphs; this wasn¡¯t like Planner¡¯s trick of projecting information that ¡®felt¡¯ like paper or screens because people thought it was supposed to, this was actually a projection over Spire¡¯s vision. ¡±Oh. Oh dear.¡± The camraconda said as she saw, the extra step of removal from the memetic effect allowing her to perceive with only a slight lag the effect of the attack. She saw now, the destroyed house, the crushed car, and, most importantly, the figure slumped in front of her lawn chair, what had once been a human body smoking like it had been set on fire, slowly shedding its skin and hair and replacing vital parts with solidified amber light and hazy black smoke. The thing that had been a woman a few seconds ago stood up. And Spire wanted to vomit. The ground undertail rumbled slightly, and she jerked into motion. ¡°Oh no. Oh no.¡± She chanted it like a mantra as she fled, clearing ground across the cracked old pavement back toward where she¡¯d left Tyrone and Karl. ¡°Time to leave. Time to-¡° The first ring of the worm erupted from the ground behind her, arcing in a way that would bring it down closer to the town¡¯s anemic center. She twisted to look overhead as it sailed by, rings of whatever grim smoke material it was made of that were ten feet around and a hundred feet in diameter sailing past, gaps you could drive through between them, the dungeon creature absolutely unconcerned with physics. It started to hit the ground ahead of her as Spire was already on a call with Tyrone, relaying frantic instructions to get clear, now, with anyone they could move. To not ask permission and to simply start teleporting people out. Her companion only barely hesitated as she told him there was a memetic threat coming in, telling her that Karl had helped him get a group already, so they¡¯d start with that, and he¡¯d be back in a second, before the call cut off. There was still a monster though. Spire ran through her options. And found them¡­ limited. What was a crossbow or an emotion modulating laser pointer supposed to do against that?! She tried the laser pointer anyway as she moved, getting no result from sharing her poorly contained fear and cold calculation. Spire kept racing forward, but her slithering against the rough ground wasn¡¯t back toward the gathering of humans, exactly. Instead, she changed tracks to the RV that she, Riho, and Tyrone were using to travel. She had limited time while the smoke worm was underground, and was just about to wrench the door open, fumbling with her fangs around the latch, when it erupted again, this time on an arc that would take it down toward where there were people gathered, having a night of drinks and the same stories told because she had brought them together to try to get them to evacuate. Spire felt something in her body crunch as she slammed into the RV¡¯s steps too hard, pulling open a container and dragging out her other backpack. The one with the weapon mount, and the rifle attached to it. Throwing herself backward, one arm loading the gun and another trying to hit the safety and failing to do so quickly, she tumbled out of the vehicle and sighted on the rear section of the worm as it threatened to come down to Earth without anyone even seeing the doom approaching. The seed round, loaded with a childhood memory of hiding under a bed from a thunderstorm that had been gifted to her before she left, hit the fifth to last ring of the worm with a clap of pure sound that was louder than every noise the mobile natural disaster was making. Not dead on, it was closer to the edge than Spire would have liked, especially since the recoil broke two of the joints on her armature pack. The force of the shot left a glittering trail of smoke and plume of amber dust, a chunk blown off of the seemingly mindless and silent monster so hard that it shifted the ring out of position from the others. And for a moment, Spire-Cast-Behind hoped that was enough to knock it off course. Enough to buy just a few minutes to remove people and flee. But then the ring slid back into position, like a magnet slowly gliding itself into place once more. And the worm hit the ground, silently surrounding fifty feet of street party and cratering the front of the tiny town¡¯s only official bar. It didn¡¯t surface after that. Spire lay on the gravel, part of her head listlessly slumped in a patch of thorny plants just past the curb by where they¡¯d parked the RV, and felt¡­ like a failure. An utter failure. How many people had just died? How many people had died while she¡¯d been here, slowly and meanderingly poking around and exploring the expanse of grass around the town? How big did Ophiem used to be? She suddenly understood a part of James a little better. The way he looked so tired sometimes. The way he looked like he didn¡¯t want to do this anymore. The way he made the obvious human motion that he was holding back from crying when he thought no one was looking. Spire-Cast-Behind didn¡¯t like it. She felt like she shouldn¡¯t be here. Shouldn¡¯t be a paladin, not after that. But then the screams and the pop of gunshots from two stretched out and barren blocks of the slowly dying town started. And she jerked herself back to an upright pose, some of her mechanical arms dragging in the dirt. The worm converted people into those things she¡¯d fought previously. And the noise meant there were still people alive. Whether or not she should be, right now, Spire was still a paladin. And that meant she knew what direction to dart. To save who could be saved. Before it was too late at all. _____ Simon¡¯s meeting had gone about as well as he could have hoped. Which was to say, he hadn¡¯t gotten shot down immediately, and had managed about twenty minutes of conversation uninterrupted by the minister¡¯s aides or some kind of scheduled meeting. Everything he¡¯d learned before trying had made it clear that it was generally a stupid idea to try to skip the line in this particular manner. But there was a kind of feeling that he wasn¡¯t moving as fast as he maybe could. That he could be doing a little bit more for the Order while he was out in the world. That might not be the right way to learn how to be a paladin. But when James had given him instructions, it had been irritatingly unclear what exactly Simon was supposed to do. So if anyone had a complaint with him focusing on home and not elsewhere, that was their problem, they should have instructed better. And by ¡®they¡¯, he meant James. Minister Bouvier had been willing to hear him out, and in a quick outline, Simon had explained that the Order of Endless Rooms had encountered multiple nonhuman species, and was currently trying to secure the wellbeing for all of them. And she had nodded and understood, and that was kind of the entire reason he was in this particular country in the first place. Not that Brazil wasn¡¯t a nice place - barring the fact that he was pretty sure it was currently either planning a war of expansion or having one planned against it - but Brazil and especially its institutional power was under the effect of an actually vicious infovore. Simon didn¡¯t know if it was something like an assignment or more like a memeplex that just happened to sit on top of at least three of the major cities, but either way, it wasn¡¯t somewhere that he was capable of talking to like this. Cuba had been another option, but while its antimeme problems were less ¡°murder you in your sleep¡±, and its political instability was a little less turbulent, it was still problematic. Uruguay seemed to just slip under the radar somehow. No antimemes that Simon could find, a robust democracy, high general happiness, and as far as he could tell, no dungeon monsters eating people. Not that dungeon monsters eating people was a common problem, but having it happen to yourself once was kind of enough to be on edge about that sort of thing. So Simon told the minister what he wanted, and she had nodded and then informed him that despite being one of the country¡¯s ministers, she wasn¡¯t actually part of the party with the most political power at the moment. So even though she sort of believed him - he¡¯d had pictures to show her at least - she did tell him that there was only so much she could do when it came to just giving away something from their nation to people who were, at the end of the day, unknown foreign refugees. And Simon understood that. He really did. Even though his little symbiote had urged him to get really, really angry about the injustice, he was aware of the fact that at the end of the day the books had to balance. The Order got away with it because making as much platinum as they could fit in a box that was secretly the size of several larger boxes gave them an economic reach well beyond their size. But a country needed country sized solutions. So he¡¯d saved the anger for later, and had told her that they were prepared to offer a few things in exchange. Things like scalable free clean renewable energy. He was aware what he was offering by how she froze for a moment; the woman was smart, almost certainly smarter than he was, and it only took her a second to run the angles on what he¡¯d said. This wouldn¡¯t just make her career, this would make her country important; but that was assuming he was only offering it to her, and if someone like Simon who admitted he wasn¡¯t the one in charge could offer this, then they would surely be sharing it elsewhere. But if he could offer this, what else could he possibly have? And what would she be able to get from a deal just by being in mild proximity to it? Watching someone do political math in real time was actually amusing enough to get Simon to smile slightly during the meeting. Both for that, and because he knew for sure that when she said her office would be in touch, she actually meant it. That had been earlier. Now, though, he¡¯d found something else to occupy his time while he waited for a longer meeting and a concrete decision. Or rather, it had come up in the meeting itself. Reports of something odd, weird creatures spotted around the border with Brazil in the north of the country. And unlike everywhere Simon had ever been, these reports weren¡¯t decayed or obfuscated or ignored. Teleporting north had brought him to somewhere colder and windier than he¡¯d anticipated, which was stupid when he had a magical brain connection to his phone and could know the weather anywhere on the planet at any moment. Simon had chuckled softly, the pattern of his laugh a blend of two people that had become something truly uniquely his in the last week, before getting his bearings and teleporting again to a better spot. The country really was beautiful, in his opinion. Hilly in places, but he hadn¡¯t noticed that as much because he wasn¡¯t stingy with his telepad ration. A lot of green, though few trees; cities actually had more trees than the grasslands because of all the palms scattered through them on purpose. A lot of beaches, though most of them lost something special when they catered to tourists, but that was just life. Not too warm, not too cold, and a little humid to the point that Simon knew a lot of people would be uncomfortable even though it didn¡¯t bother him. And he hadn¡¯t realized how strange it was that all the ladybugs and butterflies were gone from his daily life until he was here in a place that had them in abundance. The language wasn¡¯t perfectly familiar to him - a skill rank only went so far after all - but skill ranks jump started learning, and Simon was here to learn. Not just the language, but the place. He was here to learn what it was like, and to see if this seemingly unique oasis of mundanity was somewhere that could be home. The others had gone looking for a problem to solve. But Simon didn¡¯t think he needed to; unclear instructions or not. He had a problem; or the Order did as a whole. They needed validity. They needed someone bigger than them to stand up on a large scale and say that normal was changing, and that was okay, and it was gonna make the world better. So he¡¯d spent some time checking out different places, helped by the people who were nominally his errancy team even though they didn¡¯t travel with him, and often helping with small things that got in his path as he did so. And then he¡¯d settled on taking the plunge here. Asking openly if a global government would just¡­ help. Not purely out of kindness, but still. Anywhere else, Simon would have felt like he would have had to lead with the carrot. Offer up cancer cures and free electricity. But here, he felt like just asking was the way to start, honest and pure, and the bonuses the Order could commit could come later.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. There was just one problem. There were reports of something new in the north. So Simon knelt on the loose dirt and organic detritus of the latest hill he¡¯d climbed, feeling a little silly using a telepad for a ten minute hike. This place wasn¡¯t exactly untamed wilderness; he was pretty sure it was a national park, and there was a passenger airline high overhead reminding him of the existence of civilization. But he¡¯d still gotten pretty far from the winding snake of a highway, both through hitching rides and liberal use of teleports as he checked out different spots. His armor, donned for this particular foray into the northern wild grasslands of the country, was shifted to the same color as his eyes, giving him a little camouflage at a distance. His vision was better than human normal thanks to the random purple orbs he¡¯d tested, one of which had given him an ability to focus on small objects about two hundred feet farther away, and another which had given him faster pupil dilation, but he still had binoculars because the Office¡¯s small purple orbs worked at a pretty small scale. And what he needed to see was maybe a couple miles away, hours of searching having paid off. Technically, this was within twenty miles or so of the border with Brazil, but the river that marked that particular geopolitical object was far enough away to be out of sight. Simon hoped that the creature he was looking at, currently striding along on legs that glinted in the light as it passed through the tall grasses, carrying a mangled capybara corpse in its mouth, hadn¡¯t come from across the border. That would be a bigger problem. Bigger still if it were sent. It looked like someone had redesigned a raccoon with the principles of brutalist architecture, but made it the size of a wolf, and gave it the temperament of a much angrier wolf. The creature was obviously artificial, not just for its shape, but also for the fact that it gleamed in the evening sunlight. Through the binoculars, Simon could barely make out the detail of hundreds of articulated metal plates, like scales instead of fur, that covered the dungeon life. A slow accumulation of dirt, scuffing, and blood along parts of it showed that it would require cleaning over time, but also that this one was probably fairly new. If it could get dirty, but was still a glittering chrome along most of its upper body, then it was probably a fairly recent addition to Earth. Or it had taken a bath. This wasn¡¯t something Simon had been told to handle. This wasn¡¯t a condition of the government¡¯s decision. This was just him, being a paladin. Because they had known, or at least felt or suspected, that there was something odd. And while there was no obvious threat like missing cities or forgotten dead, there was still something going on that the country was having trouble with. He felt a spike of annoyance. Ire, even. And then another burst of anger that was more personally his. ¡°Stop that.¡± Simon bluntly commanded the symbiotic dungeon creature on his arm. ¡°For now. It might not be that nice when we get closer.¡± Another wash of violent intent swept through his thoughts, though this one was more clearly external, which he appreciated. ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± He muttered. He was trying to use the symbiote as little as possible. And it was trying to get him to use it as much as possible. Simon was probably going to get it surgically removed when he got back to the Lair, because this was starting to become a liability. But for now, he wanted a closer look at the ambling creature that had found the shade of a tree, laying under a canopy that looked like green clouds and slowly ripping apart its prey. Metal it might be, but it still seemed to enjoy eating. Best case scenario, he could trace it to its home dungeon. And so far, Simon had been effective enough to get best case outcomes for a lot of small problems, which actually felt weirdly at odds with how he¡¯d expected being a paladin to go. He doubted this one would be small though, but he left a camera drone on the hill to connect to with his skulljack for a vantage point, and slowly started descending the side of the hill anyway. He didn¡¯t feel a need to prove himself as a paladin, like Alex did. Nor did he think he had some kind of quota of deeds to hit, like Spire. But he did think of himself as just¡­ someone who did this kind of thing, now. Maybe it was part of him that had changed when he¡¯d taken in his other half¡¯s ghost. Maybe it had always been there, and the Order had just coaxed it out. Simon didn¡¯t know, and he didn¡¯t need to know. Instead, he was eager to see if the thing actually was a giant raccoon. _____ ¡°I do feel obliged to tell you, that you¡¯ve been bleeding all over the lovely bed they threw you on.¡± Zhu said as James took a second to recover from forming himself an additional left arm out of ice. Zhu¡¯s weight wasn¡¯t actually real, but it felt better to be symmetrical, and James had made it really sharp. So as long as he didn¡¯t forget and try to scratch his eye with a limb he wasn¡¯t familiar with, he¡¯d have one more tool. ¡±If they wanted my blood to remain inside me, they shouldn¡¯t have shot me.¡± James said, gently testing the door and finding it locked. He could probably kick it enough to open it, or form a set of icey fingers that could work as lockpicks, but those would both alert anyone on the other side while leaving him more tired than he already was. Actually, he wasn¡¯t that tired, really. Despite the injury and long day, what James felt was mostly just hungry. Not even stressed anymore, just like he hadn¡¯t had anything except half a chalky protein bar during the delve, and that he wanted chicken. ¡°Anyway, banter over, right?¡± ¡±Right, right. But what I mean is, the others will find us.¡± Zhu pointed out. ¡°Cause you bled everywhere. You can just take a nap.¡± James let out a long noise of understanding. ¡°That¡¯s a really good point.¡± He admitted. ¡°And I¡¯m super glad you¡¯re here to think for me! But also I don¡¯t trust them to leave me alive and unmindwiped for that long. Also we¡¯re underground.¡± ¡±So?¡± ¡°So we¡¯re probably underground in a secret vault or something.¡± The navigator scoffed. ¡±You look at me and tell me that Anesh couldn¡¯t absolutely solve the escape room puzzle to open their magical church elevator.¡± Zhu challenged him. James smiled. ¡°I¡¯m always looking at you.¡± He said softly, before ruining the touching comment by adding, ¡°I have really good peripheral vision and you¡¯re a big glowing distraction.¡± ¡±Okay banter over.¡± Zhu rumbled. ¡°How are we getting out? Want me to unlock the door?¡± The fact that he could do that was news to James. It made sense, in a way, but James still looked down at his arm, raising his eyebrows a little before that motion pulled at the hole in one eye and made him want to scream, tears welling up at the spike of pain. ¡°Okay nevermind.¡± Zhu said, worry and sympathy in the engine of his words. ¡°What about Move Person?¡± ¡±A lot easier.¡± James admitted with a gasp, catching his breath. ¡°Let me do one thing first.¡± What he was doing first was actually two things. First, fishing out the little cat statuette and activating it. It crumbled into sand in his hand, which slid away into nothingness as it spilled through the air; the logos items from the Stacks didn¡¯t always break, but from all the test reports James had read and participated in, they broke more often the heavier their effects were. The second thing was to bend down by the door, knees protesting, and place his palm near the crack between the barrier and the floor. Another nine Breath poured out from between his lips, his body feeling a bit sluggish as vital oxygen was expended along with the magic. And on the other side of the door, someone yelled as the chilly little cat James had just conjured burst to life in a literal flurry of snowflakes. James had only just gotten back to his standing position when Zhu triggered his Move Person absorbed blue, and put him on the other side of the door. And again, James was glad that worked, because he didn¡¯t know what the rules on the spell that kept him from teleporting were. Maybe the orb didn¡¯t count as teleporting, maybe the spell had worn off, it didn¡¯t matter. Because he was standing staring at the door opposite himself in the hall, and out of the corner of his working eye, he could see the guy who was supposed to be watching him turning to chase after the cat that James had summoned. The little snow creature was racing away, and the man in blue jeans and a polo shirt that had been unceremoniously ordered to keep an eye on things looked like he was planning to bolt after it following a deep sigh. James and Zhu didn¡¯t let him finish the sigh. One human arm wrapped around his neck in a chokehold, while a navigator limb and an arm made of ice grabbed at the man¡¯s wrists as James choked him out, holding the grapple absolutely no longer than it took for him to stop struggling and drop to the floor. The hall had shaded white lights every ten feet overhead, carpet that looked like it had jumped in time from the mid fifties, and doors every so often down its length. To the side, there was a half-staircase up, five or six steps that led to a landing and a turn. The hallway also had a couple battered old stained wood bookshelves pressed against one of the empty spaces in the wall, chairs that would have been right at home in an elementary school sitting on either side of them. Farther down was a vending machine that James made the tactical decision to not get close to if he could help it. One of the doors swung open twenty feet from James, and a man stuck his head out. ¡°You okay out here¡­ Danny¡­?¡± He went quiet as he saw James standing over the slumped body on the floor. ¡°Someone¡¯s here!¡± He screamed abruptly. ¡°Intruder! Help!¡± ¡±It probably wouldn¡¯t help if I said that I was technically invited?¡± James asked quietly. ¡±Shut up.¡± Zhu poked him, but the navigator was laughing as he did so. The sound of boots barely muffled by the coarse carpet sounded behind James, and he spun to see a man standing at the top of the little mini-stairs, hand going for a revolver at his hip. And James, on a trained reflex, reached through the magic from the statuette he¡¯d used, and drew the gun himself first. The skirmish winner seizes blades effect was a bit of a weird one, since it was next to impossible to measure the actual motion of the weapons being drawn. But it traded being scientifically obtuse for being intuitive; if you were winning a fight, then you could start grabbing weapons from farther away, or out of people¡¯s hands. And James was, currently, winning. He flicked the cylinder of the gun open and shook out the bullets onto the floor as the man gave him a blank stare that turned into a scowl as he jumped down the steps and met James with a wide swing. James in turn hit him with the butt of his own gun, sending him sprawling past as someone else drawn by the yelling appeared and shouted a challenge at James. James turned his back on the new arrival just long enough to shoulder check the first guy into a bookshelf, rolling around him as his foe tried to backhand him. Fumbling slightly with the lack of peripheral vision on one side, James wrapped his hand around the base of a football trophy sitting on the shelf, and slammed that into the offered forehead as his attacker scrambled to get him without any kind of plan. The arrival of the third man came with Zhu giving James a barely anticipated dodge line, the two of them jerking out of the way as someone tried to ambush them with a crackling taser. There was a brief moment where James wondered what would happen if he got shocked on his ice arm. But he shut down that line of thinking because he was busy, and instead just closed his hand on thin air - which was actually the grip of the stun gun - and drew it out of his enemy¡¯s hand. There was a moment of pure confusion from the man trying to hit him as an empty hand that wasn¡¯t clenched into a fist limply hit James¡¯ shoulder. Then James pressed the prongs into the guy¡¯s neck and held down the button as his target spasmed. ¡±Any more?¡± James asked Zhu casually as they stood over the pile of bodies, all of them alive but all the conscious ones groaning in pain. ¡±Oh, duck.¡± Zhu said quickly, prompting the motion from James as a chair narrowly avoided his head. ¡°That one.¡± The man who had shouted for help in the first place, panicked look in his eye, brandished one of the light plastic and metal chairs at James like he was a lion to be tamed at a circus. ¡°G-get out!¡± He demanded in a weak squeak. James threw the revolver at him, hitting him in the forehead with the spinning projectile, and then following up the stagger it caused with a fist to the gut that sent the man slumping to the wall. ¡±Okay.¡± He said, starting to feel through the statuette¡®s magic that there were weapons nearby he could draw, his combat momentum compounding as he kept knocking people out of the fight. ¡°Let¡¯s steal or break something important.¡± The first door they tried looked like a concrete boiler room that happened to have a massive bin of plastic bottles in it, and James didn¡¯t poke around much before moving to the other side of the hall. The room next to his prison was locked, and he doubled back to grab the hefty cluster of keys from one of the men he¡¯d injured before hurrying back, Zhu highlighting which one worked. Inside was empty. Less blood on the bed than his, too, so he felt cheated. The one after that had an occupant though. And they started thrashing against where they were strapped to the bed as James let himself in. Not human, but close in shape. A naked form of roughly scaled green hide, face like a smoothed down alligator except with a far more flexible mouth. James could see them trying to speak, or perhaps just scream, but it was weak and also one of the straps was currently holding them with their neck bent back and their mouth strapped shut. He shut the door gently, noting an increase in the attempted thrashing. ¡°Hey. Hi. Sorry, can you understand me?¡± He asked quietly, keeping an ear out for footsteps coming from outside. There was a pause, before a muffled series of grunts that sounded incredibly pissed off. ¡°Great. You want out of here?¡± Perhaps a stupid question, given the circumstances. And Zhu let him know it too. ¡°That¡¯s the dumbest thing you¡¯ve ever said, and I¡¯m usually around when you¡¯re flirting with Alanna.¡± The navigator told him. ¡°Here, get this one.¡± He highlighted one of the straps in James¡¯ vision, his own claw working on the other. Freeing the prisoner only took a minute, made longer by the fact that she jerked away from wherever either of them accidentally touched her skin. When the straps were off, they shoved James back and rolled off the bed, pressing their back against the wall opposite the door and sucking in air like they hadn¡¯t been able to breathe properly. Like this, standing up, the massive maw reached most of the way across their thin body and down to their knees, the toothy mouth hanging open as the figure panted heavily. When they did speak, it wasn¡¯t English, and might not even be a full language. But it was an attempt at communication and not violence, so James just shot them a thumbs up, stepping away. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go take care of some things.¡± He said quietly, hearing someone coming from outside. ¡°I¡¯d wait here; don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be back to get you out when I leave, okay?¡± When the person flinched when he spoke, it was with a rippling twist of their whole mouth, teeth gnawing on the extended lip. They stared instead of reacting aside from that, and James felt his smile slip before hardening into an angry frown. ¡°Okay.¡± He exhaled, wrenching the door open and drawing the cattle prod from the belt of one of the two people with neatly printed elder name tags running his way. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡± The first one seemed alarmed to see him step out of that particular room. But not for long, before he had something else to be worried about. James didn¡¯t bother with the prod for the second guy, just slapping him in the face with an open palm and discharging his own electric burst into him, leaving two twitching figures writhing in pain on the floor. On the way past, he kicked one of the other men who was starting to get up in the stomach, angry and done with this bullshit as he moved to check the next door. ¡°Are we in the basement of a masonic lodge?¡± Zhu asked curiously as they found a room that seemed dedicated to the storage of chairs and folding tables. ¡°Why do you even know what that looks like.¡± James tried to shake off his annoyance as he headed for the worn wood of the last door down here. Zhu tapped a talon against James¡¯ armored elbow. ¡±Well, partly because you know what that looks like. You shared that memory of your grandpa with me a long time ago, and the place it was in is still down there in your thoughts.¡± Zhu¡¯s tone held a soft kindness. ¡°But also I like exploring!¡± ¡±Stop breaking into places!¡± ¡±They were having an open house! Also you said banter was over.¡± ¡±I did.¡± James really, really wanted to pick at his wounded eye, but tightened his grip on the doorframe instead. ¡°This is one of the church meetinghouses. I know it is. Hopefully the main one they¡¯re working out of.¡± He tried and failed to keep his breathing steady, the gnawing and persistent pain mixed with his resurging anger causing him to pant raggedly as he spoke. ¡°Let¡¯s hope this is where they keep their spellbooks and burn the place down on the way out to send a message.¡± ¡±Let¡¯s do the first part.¡± Pulling open the last door, conscious of the fact that there was a seemingly normal but potentially hostile vending machine at his back, James was greeted with the largest space so far. It was a long and narrow room, with compact reading desks lining both sides from the door. About half of the twenty desks had people sitting at them, many of them young, all of them with a single book in front of them. Or¡­ in one case, something that looked like an ebook reader. That one was new. Around the room there were a few extra seats, and even a slide projector pushed to the side that might have been part of their own experiments with the spellbooks. But most of what caught James¡¯ attention were the blue metal lockers at the back of the room that were all heavily padlocked. If anywhere was going to have a stash of magical material, that was probably it. The other people in the room were a pair of men and one woman, keeping an eye on things. One of the men looked like he was currently doing the rounds, pacing in front of the kids and their spellbooks, while giving stern looks to anyone who wasn¡¯t focusing hard enough. While everyone kept studying despite the sound of the door, those three looked up at James immediately. Maybe it was something about James¡¯ being armored, with two off-colored extra arms and a glowing mantle of feathers. Maybe it was the blood on his face and the hastily assembled eyepatch. Maybe it was the cattle prod he¡¯d kept ahold of. Whatever it was, the three authority figures froze, mouths open, as he walked in and let the door hang open behind him. ¡±Good evening.¡± James said flatly. ¡°Get out.¡± ¡±You can¡¯t be here!¡± One of the watchers spoke with the kind of stern voice that adults used on children when they thought they had the ultimate authority in a situation. ¡°Who let you in?¡± He said, circling a desk where another adult human was clearly doing her best to keep reading and not look up to see what the disturbance was. ¡±There¡¯s a long and complicated answer to that.¡± James admitted. ¡°But I¡¯m not interested in sharing.¡± The man reached for something on his belt, and James let Zhu snag the gun from across the room before it could get drawn. The other two teacher figures flinching and diving for cover before the duo could even unload the weapon. The man who had tried to draw it instead charged James, his heavy frame making his steps sound like thunder on the wood floor of the open room; one hand reached out in front of him as he focused during his run. And James, still inside the area of effect of the Stacks item, and even more empowered by it now than previously, felt what he was reaching for. Not just an object, but the spell that made a weapon. So he drew it first. The knife slid out of nowhere with a little grey line in the world. Unsheathing the blade from space itself as James cast someone else¡¯s spell. His target¡¯s eyes got wide as he did so, the man fumbling to turn his attempt to skewer James into a football tackle, but James just hefted the knife by the blade and flung it overhand at the charging man, the hilt of it hitting him in the forehead at high speed with a dull impact. He grabbed the knife as it bounced off, pulling it from the air as he tripped the now stumbling human with Zhu¡¯s tail, yanking a leg out of place and sending him into a coatrack before he yanked the whole thing over, slammed into a desk, and then hit the floor face down with a whimper of pain. James and Zhu both paused to make sure he wasn¡¯t going to get back up, then turned back to the others as they worked their hands together to slip the magazine out of the gun and throw it to the side. ¡°Good afternoon.¡± James raised his voice. ¡°Everyone who wants to be here, get the fuck out.¡± Someone abandoned their spellbook, ruining what was probably a lot of work judging by the fact that they seemed to have an IV drip in, and started to point at James. He kicked the desk into the opposing set of knees, toppling the figure over. Someone else came at him with a pretty mundane looking knife, and he stole that too, throwing it aside before getting punched in the face hard enough to taste blood and devolving into a small brawl with someone who actually knew how to fight. Not fight well enough, though. James was trying really hard not to severely injure anyone, but when multiple adult humans tried to pile on him and Zhu, the pair switched to fighting a little rougher. Because as long as they were winning, no one else got to have a weapon. And that left James with a massive advantage that he used as an open threat to keep people from taking swings at his face while he tried to subdue as many as he could. But that wasn¡¯t a perfect solution, and more than once, James ended up using a summoned knife or a sword to hamstring someone and leave them bleeding and in pain on the floor. Someone, at one point, hit him with a spell that made all of Zhu¡¯s dodge guidelines snap to a single point. That effect ended when Zhu caught the person who was moving to tackle James as he was pulled to the point himself, the navigator¡¯s tail wrapping around a leg and pulling with just enough force to trip, before Zhu and James backhanded him away in unison. The man went crawling for the door in a mad scramble, and the magic blinked away. Someone else threw a fireball at him, and James allowed himself a momentary pang of jealousy as he put a thermodynamic tunnel in its path; the heat equalizing fast enough that the ¡®fire¡¯ was quashed. Lucky he did, too, because it didn¡¯t even hit him in the melee; it struck someone else in the head hard enough that it looked like it might have broken something as the unintentional target dropped away. When things looked like they were going really badly - all of them against James and the group losing because they just weren¡¯t prepared or practiced at actually fighting - one of the watchers decided to do something stupid. A spinning whorl of grey fog manifesting in front of them, and something that looked much like if you¡¯d melted a boar until it was soft and poured it into the mold of a centiped coming charging out. The caster screaming at it to kill James, and the demon seeming uninterested in holding back on collateral damage. James and Zhu shared a brief moment of connection, eye contact and a tiny twitch of acknowledgement that yeah, even for this they weren¡¯t going to kill it unless they had to. Because they both knew now that the nonhumans in this building could be people, so there was no excuse for pretending they had the moral high ground if they were fighting compelled prisoners. The centipig didn¡¯t have any compunctions about hurting people though. Thick hooves and heavy coarse furred legs shoving it forward with a lot of force even if it was kinda slow, trampling over people who¡¯d been tripped or knocked down. Its tusks extended like a dual set of mandibles and lunging for James¡¯ neck, while the person who summoned it was already trying to circle around and shoot James in the back. Zhu took his gun while James caught the attack head on. Mountain of the Self, even for a second, was draining, but James technically had enough Breath to use it. One hand held out stopping the charge dead and getting a croaking squeal from the demon who staggered to the side, eyes reeling. James followed up by leaping onto its sizable back, his icy arm scooping a jacket off the ground from where it had been flung in the wreckage of a coatrack earlier, and tying it around the long demon¡¯s face as it tried to whip him off. When it rolled sideways, he was already jumping off, but not fast enough as both his left arms got caught underneath the bulk of the creature, several hundred pounds of weight snapping his icy arm into pieces and, from the feeling of it, only avoiding snapping his forearm in the same way because of a purple orb that he really wished he had a count for his remaining uses of. James let the boar roll past, crashing through desks and sending up rough scratching as the furniture was shoved across the floor leaving scrapes and marks in the wood. Then he was back up, staggering at first but moving faster as his blood pumped and his Endurance kept him going. Leaping to where the demon was thrashing on its back, blood seeping from cuts it had gotten flinging itself across all the knifes James kept throwing into random places away from their owners, James got an arm around its throat. It tried to snap at him with its mandibles, but the jacket covering its face kept it from anything effective. James held it there while Zhu hit someone that was trying to sneak up on him, the squeals of the demon getting wetter and quieter, until eventually, it stopped moving. He pulled back, staying on the balls of his feet next to it, and checked to make sure it was still breathing. Then he rose back up, reached both hands into the air at his side, and grabbed the cattle prod and sword that were somewhere near enough for him to reach them. Turned. And faced the remaining conscious men and women who had been trying to kill or at least hurt him a moment ago. A crowd of pale faces staring back at the guy who had just choked out a dungeon monster that it took them serious effort to catch in the first place. And then they broke. And fled. A cluster of potential wizards fleeing from the basement room clutching cuts and bruises and screaming for help. Well. Those that weren¡¯t unconscious or hiding behind furniture and hoping James didn¡¯t murder them. Which, lucky for them, he had no intention of. Though one of the young men down here, maybe thirteen years old with a numb look in his eyes, might have had different ideas. James barely caught the shaft of the spear before he could skewer one of the unconscious men on the ground. ¡°Hold up.¡± He said quietly as the kid jerked back, keeping ahold of the weapon just in case. ¡°Let¡¯s put the murdering on hold.¡± ¡±No!¡± The kid screamed at him, voice shattering. ¡°Th-they¡­!¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± James nodded. ¡°I know. We¡¯ll handle it. But right now, you¡¯d rather get out of here, right?¡± ¡±I¡¯d rather kill them.¡± One of the other young people said, staring with a locked gaze at one specific figure on the floor. James nodded. ¡°I get that. I really do. How about stealing everything from them instead?¡± He looked toward the lockers. ¡°Zhu? Limited time here.¡± His navigator friend highlighted the right keys, and James went to work opening up the metal frames to reveal shelves of neatly organized and labeled spellbooks. ¡°Getting tired.¡± He warned James. ¡°Also this is wrong, isn¡¯t it?¡± A talon of his feathered limb extended away from James to point at a row of spellbooks. ¡±It sure fucking is.¡± James muttered, biting his lip as he looked at the six identical books with the same label on them. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a real problem. But also not gonna think about it now. Hey! Any of you have backpacks?¡± As it turned out, they did. And while James and Zhu dragged unconscious or injured enemies to the far wall where he did his best to tie their hands behind their backs with the limited material he had, the teenagers followed his instruction to shove everything they could into their bags, and get ready to make a break for it. It still left almost a whole locker full of copies of the same spell. Or ¡®miracle¡¯, as the locals labeled it. And while James was increasingly worried that this wouldn¡¯t be every copy, it was worth assuming it was while they had the time. ¡°Zhu, can you set that on fire?¡± He asked. ¡±Can I, the mostly incorporeal bird thing that eats geography lessons, make fire.¡± ¡±Yes¡± ¡±No.¡± ¡°Can you try? I can use Survival Flare on it but my head¡¯s starting to really hurt and I don¡¯t know what temperature spellbooks burn at.¡± Zhu¡¯s weakened and tiring gaze stared up at James¡¯ remaining good eye. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± He said eventually, looking back and stretching his talons out toward the kicked over shelf, pulling James¡¯ arm with him. He didn¡¯t know, exactly, that he couldn¡¯t do this. Navigators were still largely unmapped life forms, ironically. Maybe it was possible. So he organized his thoughts, considered what fire even was, and tried to project it onto the dungeon simulacra of paper. The locker burst into flames. ¡±Holy shit.¡± James said with raised eyebrows that he instantly regretted moving like that. ¡°You did it!¡± ¡±I¡­ I did it?¡± Zhu asked, utterly perplexed. ¡°How did I do it?¡° ¡±Uh¡­¡± one of the teens, the only girl in the group, awkwardly raised her hand as she ducked her head, ¡°¡­I did it. I¡¯m sorry, I-¡° ¡°Oh that makes way more sense.¡± James and Zhu sighed in unison as the flames dripped like red and yellow liquid down the neatly shelved books, pages bursting and popping like they were filled with something flammable as they caught and curled into blackened ash. He kicked the locker shut, keeping the flame contained enough that the building wouldn¡¯t burn down. ¡°We should go.¡± He said, starting to offer the girl a pat on the shoulder before freezing at her flinch, remembering that he should be using his general ratroach approach with these kids until things got better for them. A quick look at the others showed a similar group to what James had encountered just¡­ yesterday? Kids who looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here, out of their depth and terrified most likely of meeting the same fate as their friends and peers who had vanished ¡®mysteriously¡¯. ¡°Everyone stay behind me and Zhu.¡± He said, projecting calm confidence. ¡°We¡¯re getting you out of here, and you will never have to come back.¡± At least one of them started crying. James let them; he knew how much that was needed even just after a moment, and these kids had been going through this abuse, basically alone, for a lot longer than a moment. In the hall, two of the people James had downed previously were missing. He held up a hand sign, and then had to verbally give an instruction as he remembered that the kids following him weren¡¯t knights, asking them to stay put while he got their group¡¯s last member. Moving carefully, cautious of anyone waiting to ambush him, James slid up to the ¡®cell¡¯ door and gave a quick knock on it, listening to the scrambling of motion from within. James cracked the door, but kept back from it just to be safe. And good that he did, as a heavy figure slammed into it at high speed, the scaled person with a vendetta against their captors bursting out and snapping their inches long teeth toward James before realizing that he actually had kept his promise and come back. One of the kids screamed, then more of them. Motion erupted as some of them scampered behind the others, while one of the rescues - the one that had been ready to kill the adults in the last room - looked like he was prepared to help James fight the new arrival. ¡±Hey.¡± James with the softest smile he could manage, hoping that his face didn¡¯t look too messy. He could feel the bruises creeping across it, and despite the fact that he was winning every fight he got into, someone had still managed to cut his cheek open a little. ¡°I¡¯m back. Are you okay?¡± The massive reptilian head peered back at him as he helped the prisoner up, eyes on the top of it staring at him as their thick pillar of a tail counterbalanced their weight. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, assuming an answer and hoping that they would carry that with them as he turned to the younger humans, keeping his hand around the one that had been given to him when he helped the newer life form up. ¡°Hey guys. This is a friend of mine. I need someone to keep them safe while we get out of here, anyone think they can do that?¡± ¡°Do you ever worry you¡¯re too good at manipulating younger humans?¡± Zhu whispered as half the group raised their hands and James gently moved the crocodile-esque demon into the middle of the pack of teenagers, watching carefully to note which ones were still afraid of the other style of person. ¡±Not right now.¡± James replied in his own whisper as the group rearranged themselves so a couple of the kids were pressed farther away from the new arrival. That was fine though; the fact that they weren¡¯t all outright terrified meant they probably knew more than he did about what was going on. ¡°I might need you guys to fill me in on some stuff after this.¡± He told them, which also got a good reaction; kids that age often felt like they knew more than everyone else, and in this case, it was true. A state of being that should, in James¡¯ opinion, be rewarded. For now though, it was time to get out of here. James took point, using his extended sense through the statuette to feel for weapons getting closer, and moving quickly because of how empty the building seemed. Up the side stairs, finding a poorly lit narrow hallway that seemed to loop around on itself, James was halfway around the building before he realized that he was on the other side of that weird semi-basement he¡¯d been in. Except, looking down the half staircase, the space he saw wasn¡¯t the same. No bodies for one thing, no vending machine. Significantly more security on some of the doors. Security that wasn¡¯t doing it¡¯s job, since the heaviest doors seem to have been blown off their hinges. Recently, judging by the smoke in the air. ¡±Oh for fuck¡¯s sake.¡± Zhu muttered, voice starting to waver. ¡°Does anyone not have overlapping spaces these days? Your world is so dumb.¡± ¡±You live here too.¡± James reminded him, clearing the stairs in a bound and feeling his body scream in protest as he landed. He needed to be out but he couldn¡¯t risk leaving any other captives here. So he took a quick look from room to room, using Zhu¡¯s highlighting trick and his stolen bushel of keys to crack what was left. They skipped the breached rooms; those didn¡¯t look like there was anyone in them and one of them was straight up empty anyway. James found one person. Looking like a slightly darker colored version of the figure that was hanging back in a hunched posture surrounded by teenagers that had been given the opportunity to do something heroic, the new one had a lot more injuries. Cracked scales and an ugly bruise on their elongated mouth, a packed and wrapped bandage acting as an eyepatch that matched James¡¯ own. They didn¡¯t wake up when James checked their room, or when he and Zhu grabbed blades from one spatial warp sideways so they could cut the straps holding them down. James was going to have to carry them. Which might be a problem. But despite their appearance, they were pretty light; too light for his comfort, even if it was convenient in the moment. The rest of the way up out of the basement was less eventful. Passing fading paint and empty rooms full of too many ugly folding chairs, getting to the creaking wooden staircase that led to the main floor, James went first with the unconscious person on his back, their long maw folded across his shoulder and Zhu holding them in place. Creeping up as he heard voices ahead that increased in volume as he climbed. ¡°I told you. I told you what would happen, and you kept playing at your game.¡± A harsh and angry man¡¯s voice said. A familiar one, too; James had eavesdropped on this one before. ¡°Captain, please.¡± The reply was condescending, and not at all actually pleading. Another voice James had heard a couple times now; the bishop who had ordered him thrown in the basement here, among other things. ¡°Everything is exactly as it was yesterday. Nothing has changed. The office of the apostle is-¡° ¡±Is not here, Russ.¡± The police captain replied bluntly. ¡°And I wonder how much they really know about what you¡¯re up to.¡± James paused at the top of the stairs, peeking out around the extended cheap plaster wall that kept them screened from sight, cautious both of being seen and of hitting his delicate passenger''s head on something. There was an empty hallway on either side, which meant the men arguing were somewhere nearby but not visible. James motioned for the others to follow quietly, and began creeping forward. ¡±Captain. I understand you are upset. But you have to trust me on this. Trust in God on this.¡± The bishop said, compassionate concern in his voice that made James sick to hear. ¡°After all, it¡¯s not as if you can order a stop to all of it. Now please, there is something very important that I need to see to.¡± ¡±Oh, I think you¡¯d be surprised what I can do.¡± The captain¡¯s voice was sharp and bitter, the real captain Mecham having finally, at long last, run out of patience for what was happening under his auspice. ¡°I have a warrant, Russ. You get what that means? You hear me? A warrant. How do you think I got a warrant for you in this town? You¡¯re so far out of line, and you know it.¡± James stopped as both voices were raised, realizing he was leading everyone close to them. ¡°Is there a back door?¡± He whispered to the kids and a couple of them nodded. ¡°Great. Zhu, can you¡­¡± The navigator gave a tightening around James¡¯ arm, and he realized that Zhu had no actual contact or experience with these kids. There was no way he could jump to them. James winced. ¡°Okay, take our friend here. You two look tough.¡± He used his patented trick of flattering teen boys, and handed over the limply stirring crocodile demon on his shoulder. ¡°Get out. If anyone gets in your way, use this.¡± He handed over the cattle prod to the girl who looked fully prepared to fireball anyone that tried to stop her from leaving. ¡°Or fireball? I dunno, that seems like a decent idea too.¡± James nodded. ¡°Now go! There should be some friends arriving soon, they¡¯ll take care of you.¡± The crack of a single gunshot, muffled by the folded and partly carpeted walls of the meetinghouse, rang out. ¡±Okay, run now!¡± Zhu instructed, the group following his direction as he and James turned back to head toward the confrontation, ready to cover them if anything came after the cluster of people. ¡°James. James! We also should run!¡± ¡±I fucking know!¡± James snapped, drawing pistols out of the air from the basement and wishing he hadn¡¯t unloaded all of them. There was one single semiautomatic that he hadn¡¯t cleared the chamber of, which meant he had an bullet, a situation he wasn¡¯t exactly comfortable with if he needed to exchange fire with someone. James stalked forward in a low stance, holding the gun out to cover the hallway as he took the turn to retrace his steps back toward where the shouting was happening. As he got closer to the front lobby of the meetinghouse, the strange mix of religious imagery and oddly low budget furniture giving James whiplash, he heard the argument between the bishop and the officer begin to boil over. As if the shot earlier wasn¡¯t clue enough. ¡°-a joke anymore Russ!¡± A man howled, a yell of pure anger that was loud enough to make James flinch. A lot of people had shouted at him so far today, but not like that. ¡°Put that down!¡± ¡±It was never a joke, you idiot human.¡± Came the snarled reply. ¡°You just had to¡­ to¡­!¡± James decided to stop peeking and take that opportunity to round the corner, emerging into the room with rows of folding chairs in a semi-circle around a small raised platform that wasn¡¯t quite a stage, exactly. Some of the chairs were knocked over, and the two men standing in the room were clearly annoyed with each other; the one in a police uniform had a pistol out, while the other was holding a familiar style of longsword, except this one seemed to drip with grey light that ran down the blade like water. ¡°Maybe we could put the weapons down for a bit, and talk?¡± James introduced himself, flicking the safety on the pistol he was holding on and tossing it casually over his shoulder. He still had ample time to draw it from the floor if he needed to. ¡±Who-?¡± Captain Mecham started to ask. But he didn¡¯t get far in that before bishop Anderson - James assumed this was Russel Anderson, he hadn¡¯t ever seen the man in person, and since he was clearly a shapeshifter that didn¡¯t matter anyway - made a noise. One of those long, exasperated sounds, halfway between a groan and a growl. ¡±You.¡± He said. ¡°You have been nothing but trouble for this community ever since you showed up.¡± ¡±¡­No?¡± James glanced over at the police captain. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve been trouble for you, but in my defense, you¡¯ve tried to have me killed at least twice.¡± ¡±Son, who are you and how did you get here?¡± Mecham asked, trying to sound authoritative to James while still keeping his gun trained on the bishop. ¡°And what are you wearing.¡± ¡±In reverse order, this is lightly modified body armor, the bishop here had one of his minions kidnap me after a fight and lock me in the basement, and I¡¯m James Lyle.¡± He turned his head and met the glare of the man holding the blade on the other side of the lines of folding chairs. ¡°I am a paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms. And I am here to call for your surrender. This has gone on long enough.¡± Anderson sighed, rolling his eyes. ¡°It really hasn¡¯t. You don¡¯t understand. Neither of you, you shortsighted idiots. A police captain that takes bribes and a bored college hippy cosplaying as a soldier, you don¡¯t even know what¡¯s going on, much less how long.¡± James glanced at Mecham. ¡°I don¡¯t think you know who I am.¡± He said. ¡°Which is understandable, this city is a little messed up when it comes to actually learning things. But I promise you I am not cosplaying a soldier.¡± He heard Zhu snicker from his shoulder and back, a full bodied little laugh from the manifested navigator. ¡±You were keeping this man prisoner?¡± Captain Mecham sounded incensed. ¡°Russ, we made a deal. And you overstepped so far. How in God¡¯s name are you going to tell me this isn¡¯t just outright evil?¡± ¡±Oh he wasn¡¯t a prisoner.¡± The bishop waved his non-sword-holding hand, dismissing James entirely. ¡°He was¡­ a guest who wasn¡¯t allowed to leave.¡± James resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows, knowing that path led only to pain. ¡±You shot me.¡± He said. ¡°Like, an hour ago. You¡¯re lucky I carry medical supplies or I¡¯d be bleeding on your fine establishment¡¯s carpet.¡± ¡°Russ.¡± ¡±William.¡± The bishop sniped back in a mocking tone. ¡°God¡¯s important work requires sacrifice. Stop pretending that you¡¯re better than everyone else. Especially to me. You cheat on your taxes, you cheat on your wife, you cheat on your enforcement of the law, you are the last person to lecture me.¡± James cleared his throat. ¡°Hi. Yes. Um¡­ you keep teenagers in secret prisons? Like, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re terrible too Mecham, no offense, but bishop, you¡¯re leading two different secret conspiracies, and at least one of them involves child abuse on a scale that is frankly terrifying. So yeah, I¡¯m gonna have to ask you to stop what you¡¯re doing, stop impersonating a member of the church, stop pretending to be human for a minute, put the sword down, and negotiate the end of this conflict before anyone else gets hurt!¡¯ James found himself shouting by the end of it. ¡±Pretending to be human?¡± Captain Mecham muttered. Russel Anderson, or the shapeshifter using that name, just sighed. ¡°You know.¡± He said flatly, eying James as the paladin circled around the chairs in an arc away from Mecham. ¡°You¡¯re not the first person to come in here, thinking that I¡¯m somehow corrupting the church.¡± James had not been thinking that. At all. But he let the guy monologue. ¡°What a joke. I was invited. Brought in properly. You think I¡¯m some outsider ruining the proper path? I¡¯m faithful! My belief in God is stronger than both of yours combined!¡± ¡±I am fully willing to concede that.¡± James said without hesitation. ¡±And now you have the gall to think you can arrest me?! After all I¡¯ve done?!¡± Captain Mecham lowered his revolver ever so slightly. ¡°Russ. Please. You¡¯re saying some crazy stuff here, and I just need you to calm down. Come on down to the station, answer some questions, we can get this sorted out and-¡° ¡±No!¡± The word was the next step on the increasingly frantic tirade that the bishop was building. ¡±I have done everything right! Nothing is going to deter me now, least of all one sycophantic human with a gun! Get out! Leave! You¡¯ve done enough damage, haven¡¯t you?!¡± He shouted out the words, having a rapid breakdown as he edged backward toward the rear wall of the group meeting room, maybe to make a break for one of the side doors there. James held his hands out as non-threateningly as he could. ¡°Look, no one is questioning your faith, or that you clearly care. My only concern is that the harm stops. That anything you do in the future, you do it without hurting people who can¡¯t consent, and that you do it openly. Even now, I think we can work something out. We don¡¯t have to fight.¡± ¡±Oh, but I want to fight.¡± Anderson started laughing uncontrollably. ¡°I want you both to die. I want the tides of lies in this stupid human city to eat your corpses, and everyone that knows too much, and leave me with a blank slate to start again, and I will sacrifice everything to make that happen. Now-!¡± He was cut off as Mecham shot him. Or tried to, anyway. The shapeshifter caught the bullet on the palm of an outstretched hand, tarry black sludge erupting from the impact site like too-thick blood. Anderson glared at the captain, and started to raise his sword. So James took it from him. Grabbing the hilt and pulling it, the blade vanishing from one hand and reappearing in his own. ¡°You don¡¯t get to fight.¡± He yelled. ¡°And you don¡¯t get a do-over! Sit down!¡± ¡±Never!¡± The bishop scream laughed, and then, escalated. The creature that poured out of the grey ring in front of him was thirty feet tall. A problem, in a room that had a ceiling that was at the absolute most half of that height. That didn¡¯t stop it from emerging and ripping into the walls of the meetinghouse, pulling drywall apart like it was wet paper. It stumbled to try to rise on four shaggy legs as it emerged through the breach where scattered wood splinters and glass shards fell from the damaged structure, a long and black furred pillar of a body like a twisted giraffe rising up as a platform for a bunch of limbs that twisted like tentacles and held long scythelike protrusions at their ends. It howled from its head like a siren, body trapped but bladed tentacle limbs still capable of trying to grab and kill everything in the area. Mecham stared up at the thing, gun hanging loose in his hand, as its hunched neck turned and it caught sight of him amidst the sea of toppled folding chairs. Two claws from opposite directions came for his head, and he didn¡¯t even notice, just wide eyed and not understanding that his death was approaching. ¡±Down!¡± James yelled, tackling the cop to the floor, feeling the air ripple his hair as he barely missed getting hit. ¡°Go! Out! I¡¯ve got this!¡± ¡±W-what?!¡± Mecham shoved himself backward, firing blindly over a chair that would offer exactly zero protection. ¡°How?!¡± ¡±I¡¯m working on it!¡± James shouted back as he shoved the man forward, lunging himself to follow Zhu¡¯s dodge prediction line and narrowly avoiding a strike that sank a bone scythe into the floor. James hit the middle of the clawed protrusion with a Pave, cracking but not breaking it fully, just to see if it would work. ¡°I would really like my friends to show up now!¡± ¡±What is that?!¡± Mecham yelled as James placed a hand on the older man¡¯s back and pushed him along, both of them stumbling to their feet and running toward the door with the demon behind them forcing the ceiling to bow upward while it struggled to follow. Zhu turned some eyes behind James to check. ¡°Squid giraffe?¡± He asked, making the police captain jump. ¡°Maybe something else in the mix. This dungeon seems to follow the Sewer method but with fewer problems.¡± ¡±Later, Zhu!¡± James said as he shoved Mecham aside, a clawed tentacle slicing the air between them with a whip crack of pressure. ¡°Run!¡± He gave another push to the stunned man in front of him, sending his heavier form stumbling through the door which James followed, going for the front entry as the double doors behind him had their frame cracked and broken when the demon, still wailing in its air raid siren roar, started shoving itself through head first. James threw the sword at it, the blade actually stabbing deeper than he¡¯d expected and opening a bleeding wound that stalled the creature. But it wasn¡¯t enough. The single shot he added from the pistol he¡¯d tossed aside earlier wasn¡¯t either. And then, he felt something else available to be pulled up in the area. Several somethings, actually. The presence of the battle rifle that the Order¡¯s shield teams used, several crates of them procured perfectly legally by Nate, meant two things. One, it meant that help wasn¡¯t just on the way, help was here. Call to Blood most likely being the reason that they¡¯d been led straight to where James was. Two, it meant that he had a higher caliber gun. James pulled the rifle from outside the meetinghouse, dropping to one knee and partly rolling to slam his shoulder against a wall that had a cheerfully colorful art project hanging on it, and leveled the weapon back at the demon trying to rip its way through the structure to get to him. The shots were deafening cracks, but he didn¡¯t hesitate, just let Zhu help him steady his grip as he trusted his Aim more than his single eye and lack of depth perception, putting each bullet into the demon¡¯s head and long upper body one after the other. It screamed, voice escalating, but it didn¡¯t stop thrashing before James ran out of ammo. So, he dropped the rifle, and grabbed another one, hoping that he wasn¡¯t ruining someone else¡¯s skirmish in doing so. Shot after shot continued to snap out in a steady staccato as James emptied the magazine into the monster, its tentacles lashing closer and closer to him as it broke through, and then knocked down half the wall of the hallway before emerging into the wider lobby. James kept shooting, not sure he had time left to run, and seeing that it was slowing and starting to stagger. When it did collapse, he didn¡¯t stop, continuing to shoot until its drooping wail tapered off to nothing, and it went fully silent, body sagging as all life left it, dozens of bloody wounds spilling its vital fluids across the wreckage it had made of this part of the church building. Letting the barrel of the rifle dip to the floor, James and Zhu exhaled at the same time. ¡°Close.¡± Zhu said with muttered exhaustion. ¡±Yeah. Ooh, look, coins.¡± James could barely hear his own voice as he spoke, rising up on shaking knees as the adrenaline wore off, staggering over to grab the handful of loot drops that he could see by the thing¡¯s head, giving it a regretful look before turning and trying to hurry outside before anything unfortunate happened. He was met with the sight of a parking lot in evening sunset. Multiple cars pulling in, with Order members hopping out and fanning out around the building, and one truck pulling away. James placed a reassuring hand on the police captain¡¯s shoulder as he came up behind him. ¡°We¡¯ll talk after this. Don¡¯t worry, I think we¡¯re on the same side.¡± He said, maybe a little too loudly. After that, he found himself busy pointing and directing Anesh and Ink-And-Key to collect the kids that had escaped out the back, getting the shield team members to see if they could find bishop Anderson before he escaped fully, and trying to figure out why the hell there was a semi truck in the parking lot anyway. The truck pulling away was labeled as from a large scale food delivery company, which sort of made sense. When James caught sight of the driver, a man he¡¯d first met while both of them were impersonating law enforcement, and the driver gave him a grin and a wave, James felt a mild wave of irritation that quickly subsided to incredulous laughter. Becker had told him, to his face, that he planned on a gold heist. And James was pretty sure, in this moment, that the man had used him as a distraction. Emptying out the people who were protecting his target of whatever was in this building¡¯s basement. Maybe it really was gold. Maybe he¡¯d told James the truth about that. Maybe James was just jumping to conclusions. Either way, he hoped that whatever was in the back of that truck rattled around enough that Becker didn¡¯t get his deposit back. Wishful thinking, probably. ¡±I.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Am really. Really tired.¡± Anesh, holding the door open so one of the kids that had been injured when the building started falling apart could get into the back of the car without incident, met his eye and nodded. His boyfriend silently reaching out to help steady him as Zhu finally let his manifestation go and James tilted sideways. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here before-¡° The look Anesh gave him almost made James smile. Maybe it did, and he was just losing the ability to tell, all the exertion and mental stress catching up to him. ¡°Please, I am begging you, if you love me at all, do not finish that sentence.¡± James smiled. He was surprisingly unworried. He¡¯d done what he¡¯d come here to do. Whatever part this particular building played in the overall operation, it was done. Anderson probably had more stashes of magic, there was certainly cleanup to do, and it was likely that he wasn¡¯t the guy who was ultimately ¡®in charge¡¯, but this kind of chaotic damage would be a massive setback to anyone trying to follow that specific path. And also, he¡¯d done something of personal importance. These kids and these kidnapped life, they were going to get something better than what was being done to them here. Everything else could come later. James would figure it out after a rest. The Order would figure it out. They weren¡¯t just looking for leads now, they had multiple people to negotiate with, multiple if obvious problems to address with clear plans of action. So for now, he really did just feel like he¡¯d done what he was meant to do. Like for once, he¡¯d actually earned it when everyone called him a paladin. It felt good. And it felt even better, held in Anesh¡¯s arms as he threatened to pass out when his Endurance just gave up, to know that his dumb heroics weren¡¯t the only part of the solution. That after all that, even though there was more to do, the last thing he was in the world was alone. James had a lot to do when he woke up, but he actually felt pretty good about it, overall. Chapter 298 ¡°It was clear I was afflicted with a burger madness, so it was at this point I decided to take a break.¡° -Stuart Brown, Four-Byte Burger- _____ The diner was the very picture of suburbia. Exactly the same as every other building that shared its brand name except for the layout of the tables, identical menus and an identical selection of pie that always looked better than it tasted. The waiters and cooks were different people - not everyone could do what Aneshs did after all - but their general antipathy for the job meant that, like every other copy of this establishment, there were a lot of things that just got half assed. JP didn¡¯t blame them, because he could already tell from looking that this place did the thing where they underscheduled and expected the people they did pay to work harder to make up for the deficiency. He¡¯d worked a job like this in high school, and he¡¯d lasted about a week before lying his way into literally anything else. Actually, he¡¯d deceived his way into James¡¯ social circle, now that he thought about it. And then told his mom that his friends needed him for emotional support or something else dumb that was probably a much worse lie than he¡¯d thought it was at the time. But he hadn¡¯t had to go back to work at least. Right now, in the present, he wasn¡¯t even close to interested in doing a job, but he was still here in a diner to do work. Specifically to meet police captain Mecham over coffee, and give the soft faced old cop an accounting of what the hell had been happening in ¡®his¡¯ city. JP would have rather met at literally any other restaurant, but he¡¯d suffer through this one mostly because North Smiths, Utah, had a disturbing lack of good Mexican places. Also he didn¡¯t think Mecham would want their chat to last long enough for tacos to arrive. The two men stayed quiet except for polite thank yous to the waitress who set coffee in front of them, both adding their own cream and sugar with the clink of spoons on ceramic before taking tasting sips of the too-hot liquid in unspoken unison. Mecham¡¯s plain style of dress fitting in to the crowd, but clashing with JP¡¯s habit of dressing every day like he was going to a high class society function. Despite his rank and position, he wasn¡¯t in uniform for this. He was even wearing a tie clip, which JP found sartorially pretentious, though he¡¯d never in his fucking life say those words aloud anywhere anyone in the Order could hear him. Around them, the world kept on being normal; midmorning on a saturday meant there were plenty of people at the adjoining tables, families and couples, a grandmotherly woman with knitting that JP figured was ten levels above his best effort, a group of truckers, people. Eating breakfast, waiting on coffee or overpriced orange juice, talking and making their own clinks of cutlery. Entirely unaware of the mild chaos that had happened last night. ¡±Alright mister...¡± Mecham started as he set his mug down. JP realized the pause was for him. ¡°Oh, JP is fine.¡± ¡°Well mister JP.¡± The man ignored him either on purpose to be assertive, or by accident, which was much funnier in JP¡¯s opinion. ¡°I think you owe me an explanation.¡± JP held his own cup in one hand, a little idle gesture that was specifically for making him look a little less professional and a little more approachable. He wasn¡¯t sure exactly what track he¡¯d be taking with Mecham, so he was starting out with the low-hostility ones, but prepared to pivot if he needed. ¡°That is why I¡¯m here.¡± He smiled slightly, keeping his usual charm masked behind the fact that he hadn¡¯t slept in two days. ¡°Where should we start?¡± ¡±Who are you?¡± The captain asked instantly, his slow voice not hiding the fact that he had questions prepared and an intelligence behind his eyes. ¡°You aren¡¯t really FBI.¡± Still smiling, JP pointed with his coffee cup, one finger curled under the handle. ¡°Now see, I, unlike my friend, make a point of not lying in ways that can be checked that easily. No, I¡¯m not FBI. We¡¯re from a group called the Order of Endless Rooms.¡± ¡±Group? Sounds like a cult.¡± ¡±Would you believe I tried to warn them about that?¡± JP shrugged, a ¡®whatcha gonna do¡¯ gesture. Across from him, Mecham gave a throaty snort of amusement. ¡°Alright. What are you then, really?¡± ¡±You¡¯re going to have to narrow that down. Do you mean ideologically, or are you asking if I¡¯m human?¡± ¡±Either. Both. God help me, I¡¯m going to have to start asking, aren¡¯t I?¡± JP offered some quiet sympathy. ¡°I¡¯m human. As for the Order, we¡¯re¡­ you can think of us as exceptionally good samaritans. We find problems and we solve them, and we try to make use of the kind of weirdness that I know you know about so that we can make the world nicer for everyone.¡± ¡±Sounds like a bunch of hippy nonsense. My gram would¡¯ve loved you.¡± Mecham gazed down into his half empty mug, a distant look in his eyes. He was taking this a lot better than JP had expected so far, which was a good sign, but the man was clearly still dazed by everything that had happened. ¡°Something like that.¡± JP said, giving a much more charming smile to their tired looking waitress as she came by to offer them refills. He waited only for her to turn away before he kept talking. ¡°A while back, we met some interesting people down around this area. They made some weird drinks that the FDA would probably have a heart attack about, and they also hurt some people.¡± JP didn¡¯t really want to reveal too much, so he kept it simple. Broad strokes. Let Mecham follow the story, without making him think the details were important. ¡°Put a stop to that, almost peacefully too. Some of them still work with us, they¡¯re going through a pretty long rehabilitation thing. But while we were getting into that mess, we ended up helping a few kids out who happened to have some weird magic.¡± ¡±The miracles. I¡¯m not totally in the dark here, I know about that.¡± Mecham nodded. ¡°Did you save them from some demons? I know it brings them out.¡± It didn¡¯t, but JP didn¡¯t want to get into a conversation that might get him mistaken for a Researcher right now. ¡±Something like that. Afterward, we got them home safe, talked to their parents, and¡­ well, you know how it is around here, don¡¯t you? People forget things.¡± ¡±That they do.¡± ¡±And when we did check in, imagine our surprise when it turns out that our young friends are missing, their families are missing, the surrounding neighborhoods are empty, and there¡¯s spellbooks - miracle¡­ uh¡­ books, if you prefer that term - all over the city, and at least one person deciding that institutional religious power wasn¡¯t quite enough for them.¡± JP frowned, letting his face harden into something that wasn¡¯t anger but clearly wasn¡¯t happy. ¡°And I understand you knew about Anderson a little?¡± Mecham had the good grace to look bitterly ashamed. ¡°I knew.¡± He admitted. ¡°God help me, I knew and I took his money, because I thought Russel was doing something¡­ ah, it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± He stirred coffee he wasn¡¯t drinking. ¡°It¡¯s over now at least.¡± Personally, JP wasn¡¯t nearly as angry or as anti-cop as James and some of the others were. But he still had to pull on his social aptitudes pretty hard to not scowl at the man in that moment. ¡°Well, Anderson is still on the loose, and he doesn¡¯t seem like a quitter.¡± ¡±I¡¯d say you¡¯re right, but something tells me I never knew the man. Was he human?¡± Mecham asked. ¡±No. He¡¯s a shapeshifter of some kind. Though it wouldn¡¯t really matter.¡± JP sighed slightly, channeling his inner James. ¡°So here¡¯s the rough outline. Anderson was building his personal army of god out of a bunch of teenagers by using miracle-magic to make them believe specific stuff and building off that. He was also running a second group that¡¯s still active, that was moving people into a ¡®safe place¡¯ for some kind of nebulous coming apocalypse. And I would really like to know how this one guy ended up at the center of it all.¡± ¡±Demon powers?¡± Mecham asked with a shrug, and met JP¡¯s flat and unamused grin with one of his own before relenting and giving a real answer. ¡°My computer boys are still going through his emails, but he was impersonating two different apostles to other people. Their offices at least, not like they send their own emails. But you know what I mean.¡± JP gave a nod, he was keeping up on the local power structures. ¡°What was he trying to do? Really.¡± JP sighed and finished his coffee, wishing he¡¯d ordered a bagel or something. He¡¯d teleport to that nice cafe in Amsterdam after this and get a real breakfast. ¡°Honestly? I don¡¯t think it was that nefarious. He just got caught up in the treadmill.¡± Mecham gave him a blank stare that was more confusion than attempted intimidation, and JP offered an explanation. ¡°Maybe he had a big goal at first, but he probably accomplished it at some point. But having more authority and more magic let him get more authority and more magic, so he kept doing it. How many men do you know who aren¡¯t satisfied with enough when they could have more?¡± ¡±A fair few.¡± Mecham conceded with a slow nod. ¡°Nothing wrong with a little ambition.¡± ¡±That so?¡± JP smiled coyly. ¡°Guess I¡¯m not one to talk.¡± He gave a friendly chuckle. ¡±So that¡¯s it then? Someone wanted to be in charge, and all this came from that?¡± JP sighed, drumming his fingers on the sticky surface of their table, trying his hardest to ignore the tacky sensation under his fingertips. ¡°You want to know what happened? It¡¯s not complicated. It¡¯s just ¡­a lot of pointless violence. A lot of stupid lies that confused everything to the point that some people thought this was a good idea. The real answer, captain? The truth? Some people who already liked having power got a taste of a way to get even more, and they did what humans do. And one of them happened to not be that human. You can put this on Russel Anderson as the ringleader or something like that, but I¡¯m gonna give it to you straight right now; I know a lot of nonhumans, and on average? They¡¯re kicking our fucking asses in terms of ethical behavior.¡± There was a long silence. Well, not a silence; the diner continued to be full of the sounds of humanity. A child¡¯s too-loud laughter and a chef yelling at someone in the back, normal daily life for normal daily people. Eventually, Mecham met JP¡¯s eyes, something like defiance warring with shame on his face. ¡±Russel wasn¡¯t always like this, you know.¡± He said. ¡°I still don¡¯t think he¡¯s an evil man.¡± ¡°Capitan, I don¡¯t care.¡± JP told him honestly. ¡°You don¡¯t need to convince me if he¡¯s good or evil. I don¡¯t want him dead. I just want you to be on the lookout for him in the future, because he did hurt people, and you¡¯re smart enough to not lie to yourself.¡± The police captain¡¯s mouth twitched in a wince of a smile. ¡°Maybe. Maybe.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Is it really that bad, though? People keep saying child abuse, but parents make choices for their kids all the time. What¡¯s actually your problem with it?¡± ¡±The part where he and his minions put teenagers in five by five metal boxes, and also the part where one of his people shot my friend in the face.¡± JP said, the words coming out incredibly at odds with the polite facade he was maintaining. He was shifting to a more confrontational mood, but still trying to keep things nice as he did so. ¡°And you did nothing. Because he¡¯s your friend.¡± He toned back the hostility, and gave a slight tip of his head. ¡°Which I understand. I have friends who do dumb shit too, and I still care about them. I get it. But you know right and wrong, and we¡¯re adults here. Let¡¯s not pretend.¡± ¡±I am still an officer of the law. I¡¯m in charge of this city, of keeping it safe. I can¡¯t have you running around kicking down doors looking for revenge.¡± ¡±Oh! You misunderstand. I¡¯m not revenge-centric.¡± JP laughed, playing it off as a joke as the passing waitress gave him a look. ¡°Right now, all we want is to cooperate on what you already want. Finding a wanted fugitive who¡­ actually, I wasn¡¯t there, did he try to kill you?¡± JP knew the answer, but making the man speak his own reminder was more effective. Mecham didn¡¯t nod, just dipped his stare. ¡°He did.¡± He replied in his slow voice. ¡°He was panicking, it wasn¡¯t¡­¡± he stopped before he could say it wasn¡¯t his fault. Even he knew that was a lie. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I don¡¯t think I can cover up cooperating with an order.¡± ¡±Then don¡¯t.¡± JP shrugged. ¡°Legally, we are consultants, helping out with an investigation. Practically¡­ we¡¯re exactly that. We¡¯re not a conspiracy, captain. And our goals align. It¡¯s okay for us to work together. There¡¯s just one condition.¡± ¡±Money?¡± JP grinned wide. ¡±Hah! Hardly. Unless you¡¯re asking for money, in which case no, you took enough already I think. No, I¡¯d like to ask you if you¡¯re familiar with the Long Arm of the Law.¡± ¡±¡­I am the long arm of the law. That¡¯s what that means.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± JP relaxed slightly, nodding. ¡°Good to know.¡± Specifically it was good to know that the man had no idea what JP meant. Ever since their first dustup down here, it had been something of a curiosity to the rogues that the police didn¡¯t seem to react quite the same way anymore. JP was personally pretty certain that there were more people than there should be who knew who Long was, especially among the higher ranks of law enforcement. But the pillar was oddly absent from this part of Utah these days. The memeplex that made things hard to notice or plan around was still in place though, which meant it probably wasn¡¯t Long¡¯s doing, like they¡¯d thought. Still, it was good to get a little extra confirmation that the cops here weren¡¯t on the payroll of a higher tier of enemy. ¡±So what happens now?¡± Mecham asked. ¡°I go back to life knowing that there¡¯s demons walking among us, and you walk away?¡± ¡±They¡¯re just people.¡± JP said, shaking his head. He didn¡¯t push back on anything of the comments Mecham had made that were wrong over the conversation, but this one was more direct and he felt like James and Alanna would break his knees if he didn¡¯t address it. ¡°Really. And just like people, some of them suck. So maybe do your job, take fewer bribes, and don¡¯t worry about it too much.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Because now you know we exist. And you know we¡¯ll be annoyed if I find out you¡¯re policing based on species.¡± The cop¡¯s ego couldn¡¯t take that sitting down. ¡°Are you threatening me?¡± ¡±Absolutely not!¡± JP said with the kind of unpleasant smile that said the opposite of what he¡¯d vocalized. ¡°Oh, and we¡¯re not walking away. There¡¯s loose ends and excellent reasons for us to stick around. But really. We don¡¯t have to be enemies, Captain Mecham.¡± He stood up, already focusing on his next stop for the day as his counterpart stood too, the two of them shaking hands like professionals who had respect for each other even if they weren¡¯t feeling it that much. ¡°I¡¯ll be in touch.¡± All in all, JP thought as he went to the bathroom, teleported to another country, and went to get real food, that went pretty well. Having someone else in the area as a potential ally was much better than he¡¯d hoped for. And, best of all, he got to eat a fresh croissant instead of talking to any of the teenagers they¡¯d brought back, which was frankly more important to him than anything having to do with Utah¡¯s local police. _____ Momo had been scheduled for something today, and she really, really wished she weren¡¯t. In fact, she wasn¡¯t clear on why she had woken up ¡®on time¡¯ for a meeting she didn¡¯t remember agreeing to. She also wasn¡¯t quite clear on why she had put in the effort to disentangle herself from El, her partner having either decided to make a melancholy romantic gesture in wrapping her arms and legs around Momo in their shared bed to keep her from getting into trouble again, or, maybe just didn¡¯t have enough room on her side of the too-small sleeping space. She really didn¡¯t know why she¡¯d actually left her room and gone to where she knew she was supposed to be. Right up until she got there, and then Momo, never a morning person, felt the lingering fog of sleep tinge red with rage. ¡±Planner I¡¯m gonna fuckin¡¯¡­¡± Momo trailed off. She didn¡¯t know what she was gonna. Also, she slowly started to think, this was a lot more worrying than Planner¡¯s usual shenanigans. The assignment had straight up mind controlled her out of her warm bed to do something, and Momo was really not okay with that. She also didn¡¯t know what to do about it. She was still feeling like she was falling apart just a little. Someone had tried to kill her again yesterday, and Planner just expected her to be okay. Maybe she¡¯d done too good a job lying to people about how okay she was. When she found out what she was supposed to be doing, she relaxed a bit though. Recovery was spending today going through the kids - and a few adults too - that had come back with them to the Lair, first in small groups to explain things, then individually with Recovery agents to set them up with the specific resources they¡¯d need. Momo had been asked, and apparently said yes, to talking to a small group of the more skittish teens that were part of the batch she¡¯d magically crowbarred out of their prisons. She was told it would help them to have a familiar face. Especially since she¡¯d been the one to save them. When she learned that the reason she was up so early was to ¡®review documents¡¯ before the small debriefing thing, Momo had rolled her eyes and found the nearest couch to nap on. She had a skulljack for a reason, and even if she didn¡¯t, if Planner was going to be kicking her out of bed, they could figure out how to implant memories in Momo¡¯s head. In the end, Momo had an outline, zero plan for what she was going to say, and was feeling barely refreshed from her tiny nap as she threw herself into a chair at the small table the group was meeting at. She really didn¡¯t know why this had to be her and not someone else. James had been there, it could be James! Well. Okay. No, it couldn¡¯t be James right now, or Deb would murder all of them. But Momo had stuff to do today, so she wanted to get one more mental complaint in. There were four kids she¡¯d been foisted upon, and even sitting down the boy half of the group both looked like they would take Momo standing on her own clone¡¯s shoulders to match up to. The two girls sat closer to each other, probably friends before this, and all of them relaxed a bit as Momo arrived. ¡±Yo.¡± She introduced herself, swishing the bathrobe around to fold her legs under herself and ignoring the persistent shooting pain in her hip from where some asshole dungeon had shot her with a chunk of ice worthy of being a second tier Final Fantasy spell. ¡°I¡¯m Momo, we all kiiiiinda met before, but hi again. Uh¡­ who are you?¡± They went around the table and she got their names, and made notes in her skulljack memory app because there was just no way Momo was going to remember them otherwise. ¡°What happens now?¡± One of the guys asked. ¡°Are we allowed to leave?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± Momo said instantly. ¡°I mean, probably? I¡¯m not gonna keep you here. We tend to do some kind of supervised parole thing for people who are, like, problems, but I kinda don¡¯t think that¡¯s you? You all seem harmless.¡± One of the girls ducked her head, looking like she might have something to say but uncertain if she should speak up. Eventually she muttered, not meeting anyone¡¯s eyes, ¡°The¡­ the demons that come after us¡­¡± ¡±Oh! That¡¯s not a thing.¡± Momo flapped a hand in the air. ¡°Sorry, whatever elders or bishops were handling you guys in your weird little program lied about the demon thing. They were doing it manually, the dungeon doesn¡¯t spawn or send anything.¡± Or at least, she assumed it didn¡¯t. If it did, the Order would surely have noticed, because they had made a lot of spell coin copies to test stuff. Momo was pretty sure one of the dedicated Akashic Sewer delvers had something like twenty level one slots just to carry the spell that made towels and a few copies of the frog-to-bat thing as a contingency. That would absolutely have gotten at least one flying goat in retaliation if that was a real thing. Momo wasn¡¯t great with people, but she still caught that when she called their handlers liars, all four of them twitched practically in the same way. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t-!¡± One of the boys started to say before he bit down on his own tongue. There was an impulse for Momo to snark at them. To give a sarcastic little ¡®oh really¡¯ or something. But she stomped down on that, hard. That kind of thing was fine against assholes, but these were just kids who¡¯d been shoved into the worst parts of their own brains. She knew what that felt like. Making fun of them would just feel gross. So instead, Momo rapped her knuckles on the table, cleared her throat, ignored how the collective bruise from the two people who¡¯d tried to crush her windpipe still hurt, and leaned back in her chair. It got their attention, and that was all she needed to distract them with her barely-planned speech. ¡±So, uh. Welcome to the Lair! Lemmie give you the intro spiel and then we can get into questions, okay? Okay! So, uh¡­ there¡¯s a lot of weird shit in the building? Wait, can I swear? You¡¯re all kids, I shouldn¡¯t swear.¡° Two of them gave her put-out looks, faces puckered up in annoyance, but Momo just grinned back to show she wasn¡¯t being too serious. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of weird ssssssstuff in the building, and you need to know what you are actually supposed to not touch, okay? There¡¯s a lot of trial and error and fun learning experiences, but there¡¯s a few things you really need to know.¡° ¡±Wait, wait, no, you mean there¡¯s dangerous things here? Like your demons?¡± The previously quiet girl asked. Momo have a sad half frown and shook her head. ¡°We don¡¯t use the word demon. And you¡¯ll get a whole info booklet from your personal Recovery contact later, okay? Most of them are people. People you might have a lot in common with; they¡¯re mostly survivors and people who needed help.¡± She paused. ¡°Hell, I¡¯m one of those people too.¡± ¡±You?¡± It sounded incredulous. Probably because Momo was currently looking large and in charge, and toying with one of her floating pencils that was orbiting her head. ¡±Me. Now. If you see something moving around that isn¡¯t human, that¡¯s okay. They¡¯re probably supposed to be here. But please, I am begging you, don¡¯t pet anything without asking first. If they don¡¯t tell you that they want to be petted, then also don¡¯t pet them, cause some things like the shellaxies are actually super fuc- super dang hostile to unfamiliar people, and they will shred your tender teenager flesh.¡± ¡°Our what?¡± The tallest of the already too-tall boys asked, alarmed. And Momo tried not to sigh. This must be how El felt all the time; trying to corral kids and having all of them fail to get her jokes. El was actually a wickedly funny person most of the time, and it must suck to be around people who kept second guessing your wit. As Momo was finding out, as her wit met its match in the form of people five to ten years younger than her. So she ignored the desire to double down on the wry comment and instead pushed forward. ¡±That came out weird, but let¡¯s keep rolling. If something is glowing, don¡¯t poke it without asking. If someone left food out, don¡¯t eat it without asking. If you think you should recognize part of the building but everything has changed, we have a local wifi server with a map you can check but also don¡¯t go down weird hallways without checking with someone else first just in case. Okay?¡° ¡±Okay.¡± All four of them said at once, like they were conditioned to agree. Which they might be. Momo sure hated that. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s the warning bit. Now here¡¯s the good stuff. You can live here as long as you need to, or we can set you up somewhere comfortable for you. You don¡¯t have to go back to where you were, you don¡¯t ever need to talk to anyone who hurt you again, and you don¡¯t need to give up your magic.¡° Their faces lit up, and she didn¡¯t hide her own smile. ¡±You¡¯re all still basically babies, so we¡¯ll prooooobably not let you have the ones that make swords or alter your own brains until you¡¯re a little older, but there¡¯s a ton of stuff that isn¡¯t all ¡®hey we have amazing power I know we should get into a battle¡¯ that you can play with until then.¡° ¡±Isn¡¯t¡­ isn¡¯t magic for fighting?¡± One of the guys asked. ¡°That¡¯s what it all does, right?¡± ¡±I have it on good authority that there¡¯s a spell out there in your specific system that¡¯s explicitly for cleaning grout.¡± Momo commented. ¡±Grout?¡± ¡±Yeah, like, the stuff that holds floor tiles in place.¡± Momo paused and sucked a breath through her teeth. ¡°I think? I shouldn¡¯t say that without checking. I¡¯ll look it up while we talk.¡± Or, more specifically, she¡¯d already sent a message to her special chat server where people answered her inane questions. ¡°Anyway! We¡¯re kinda stupid about handing out magic, actually? Like, hey, anyone want some skill ranks? I brought a jar to share.¡± The mason jar that had been kept in the inner pocket she¡¯d sewn into the lower portion of her bathrobe thunked onto the table. Momo didn¡¯t just have a big jar of skill orbs for no reason; she¡¯d brought it on purpose. Both to enhance her image as a cryptic witch, and to put these kids at ease. They all stared at the jar, putting off a pale yellow light, as Momo unscrewed the cap and fished around for a handful of the orbs, passing one to each of the teens in turn. Not a single one of them got a skill rank that was useful for anything immediately practical, which was perfect. Momo loved that seeming running joke the Office was playing. It created a bit of whimsy in an otherwise tense moment, which was important for these kids who had gotten their whole lives uprooted and destroyed. ¡°Okay.¡± She said after a little chatter. ¡°Now. I¡¯m sure you guys have a million questions. Let¡¯s go one at a time, okay? I¡¯ll answer what I can, and then after we¡¯re done here, we¡¯ve got people from Recovery who you can chat with one on one, and they¡¯ll be working with you to figure out¡­ uh¡­ everything, okay?¡± She nodded with as much adult authority as she could. ¡°Okay! Who¡¯s got questions?¡± All of them, it turned out. ¡°Can I go home?¡± The more alert of the two girls asked right away. It was framed like a challenge, but Momo refused to get defensive. ¡°Yeah, if you want.¡± She said, not bothering to hide that she thought that was a fucking stupid idea. ¡°Like I said, not prisoners. Rec¡¯ll probably give you a number or something you can call if you ever need help, but we can totally put you back with any family or whatever that you have. But that seems¡­ stupid? Yeah, that seems dumb as fuck.¡± They didn¡¯t argue with her, which was how Momo knew there was something painfully wrong with these kids. Teenagers, in her experience, underwent a kind of radical self destruction protocol whenever someone told them they were wrong to their face. Momo sure had. These kids seemed like they were missing vital parts of themselves, and it was grim. So she moved on to the next question? ¡±What happened to my sister?¡± One of the boys asked. ¡°She was taken away before me, and I haven¡¯t seen her here.¡± His voice cracked as he asked, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. Momo ignored that too, just answering simply and honestly. ¡°As far as we know, the people who did this to you have other places they were using to keep captives. Your sister might be there, or she might have escaped entirely. She also might be part of the group that¡¯re living in one of the dungeons. I can¡¯t give you a clear answer, but if she is held somewhere, we¡¯ll find her and break her out as soon as we can. Talk to your Recovery rep, and they¡¯ll get you set up to get constant updates, okay?¡± Momo wished she could say more, but she didn¡¯t know, so she pointed to the second boy who had his hand up. ¡±Are you sure we aren¡¯t prisoners here?¡± ¡±Oh my god, do you want to just walk out?¡± Momo¡¯s finite patience wore thin. He looked at least a little chastized. ¡°No?¡± ¡±Correct, no. But you can, so you¡¯re not prisoners. Jesus, it¡¯s like you guys have never had your lives saved by a weird non-cult before.¡± Momo said and instantly regretted the joke as their eyes all widened a little. ¡°Forget I said that. Next question!¡± She plowed forward with false cheer. The girl on the side of the table with a good view of the window out into the hall went next. ¡°Uh¡­ how come there¡¯s snakes out there?¡± She asked. ¡±Oh! Camracondas! You haven¡¯t met any already? I mean, I guess you guys probably didn¡¯t do much exploring last night.¡± They shook their heads and Momo gave a knowing nod. ¡°Well, I think you met Barkdust. They¡¯re like her, only less stuffy, and if you tell her I said that I¡¯ll deny everything! They¡¯re on the list of people who we helped, and the list of people who help us help others. It¡¯s some kinda big philosophical cycle thing, but I¡¯ll be honest, I don¡¯t think too much about that. Most of my efforts go into figuring out how to romance one of them.¡± ¡±¡­oh. Are they¡­ alive? They have camera heads.¡± ¡±They do, and they are. I¡¯m not that weird, I¡¯m not gonna romance an inanimate object.¡± Momo gave a playful shrug. ¡°Anyway they¡¯re cool. Most of them are really up front too, so if you want to hang out with them, you can literally just approach and say hi and then start talking. It¡¯s way more chill than with humans. Anyway, next?¡± They wanted to know if they had to go back to school when summer was over if they stayed, and Momo explained that they probably would be expected to learn something, but that the Order was working on options. They wanted to know if they could have more magic, and Momo explained that they totally could, but what they could get depended on a few things, including if they were going to school, and that really raised interest in personal education, which she was proud of. And then one of them asked about their religion, and Momo went back to being mad at Planner for putting her here. ¡°I¡¯m the wrong person to ask about this.¡± Momo said. ¡°Because I¡¯m kinda generally on team ¡®attack and dethrone god¡¯, and I think that makes me biased. So, like, you¡¯re cool to have a personal faith, there¡¯s nothing wrong with that and no one is gonna stop you. But also¡­¡± They stared at her with differing levels of apprehension and suspicion as she sighed deeply. ¡°But what?¡± One of them demanded as sternly as a scared and tired teen ever could. Momo decided to cut to the chase. ¡°But you¡¯ve been fucking brainwashed?¡± She shrugged, abandoning subtlety and also her attempt to not swear. ¡°I mean literally, not just in a teenage edgelord way. That was the point of the magic, right? As far as the adults in your life saw it?¡± They nodded, sheepish as they broke off watching her to stare at the tabletop or walls. ¡°Yeah. Cast the spell, say something, believe what you say. That¡¯s not how people grow into beliefs normally, that¡¯s fucking brainwashing. Maybe it¡¯s okay if you¡¯re making yourself into the person you wanna be on purpose, but did any of you ever pick your own things to say?¡± They didn¡¯t answer for a long time, until one of the girls cracked and shook her head, tangled hair covering her face. ¡°No.¡± She said in a small voice. ¡±Yeah. Exactly. So we¡¯ll work with you, make a list of everything you¡¯ve been forced into, and break those off one at a time. I am really hoping the same spell can countermand itself, but if not, I¡¯ll figure something out. That¡¯s my job though. But when that¡¯s done, and you¡¯re actually free, then yeah, no one¡¯s gonna stop you from worshiping.¡± She paused. ¡°Unless it¡¯s culty? We¡¯ve had some cult problems in the past. But you don¡¯t seem like a murder cult so it¡¯s probably fine.¡± Strangely that did not put them at ease. Momo handled a few smaller questions, and then just tried to draw them into some casual conversation about themselves and their lives, until their personal Recovery people showed up. All four of them decided to stay in the Lair for a while at least, so that would be easier to handle. And when one of the people from Recovery ended up being a camraconda, none of them said anything shitty or seemed afraid, which was huge in Momo¡¯s opinion. She¡¯d also only had to stop one of them from self harming in response to a compulsion. Which was also¡­ well. It was something. Her throat hurt. And she wanted to go Pave someone for what had been done here. But everyone who was responsible was either scattered or unable to continue doing it, so what would be the point? It just left Momo angry and tired and worried about her friends that were still hurt more than her down in the medical wing. And the worst part was, this was group one of four for the morning. Before the next one, she jumped on the Lair¡¯s chat and got someone to bring her throat lozenges. Also she learned she was right about grout, which gave her the morale boost she needed to make it through the next group of kids. _____ Not everyone was suited to early morning meetings in bad diners. Some of the Order preferred a little more of a professional atmosphere. Mostly just Jake, though. Dave and Paper-And-Words were both¡­ well, they were definitely fits for the Order¡¯s culture. He thought of himself as a mostly chill guy, especially given his profession in the legal world, but he wasn¡¯t quite to the level of casual that the Order used for a lot of things. Not that it wasn¡¯t working for them, it was just that he had the budget to rent a meeting room in a half-empty office building just off of a main thoroughfare, and so he was going to use the budget for exactly that. The place was decent. Second floor of the building, nice view of the crescent of asphalt in front of the whole place and the parking lot around it, neatly trimmed greenery surrounding the perimeter of the building itself. Jake had been in a hundred buildings like this, and he took comfort from that as the group he was supposed to be assisting in talking to filtered in. ¡±Hi there. Jake Redding. Legal council for secret societies. Pleasure.¡± He offered a handshake to each of the four men in turn as they entered the room. ¡±Redding?¡± One of them asked, and Jake tried to ignore the way they were staring at the clean lines of his cornrows. Jake was used to being the only black man in a room; he worked in Portland usually. But this was unprofessional to a degree that irked him, so he put enough wry humor into his response to make the Order of Endless Rooms proud. ¡°That¡¯s right, Jake Redding. Pleasure.¡± He smiled toothily at the group, before turning and motioning to the table, moving to take a seat on the other side and leaving the chairs for them to figure out themselves. ¡°This is Paper-And-Words, and Dave¡­¡± He trailed off as he waited for Dave to fill in his last name. An event that he¡¯d be waiting on for a while, as Dave just nodded and gave a small wave. Redding didn¡¯t miss either that Paper-And-Words got less uncomfortable looks than he did; not that this was bad exactly, but it rankled. Since Dave wasn¡¯t speaking, Paper-And-Words jumped in. ¡°Hello. I am here to make decisions about our involvement, and am currently taking votes from eighty six involved Order members.¡± That got an odd look, but Paper-And-Words didn¡¯t continue, uninterested in explaining Order democracy to these people, and having filled its role in terms of transparency. The eldest of the rival group introduced their side as they finished the handshakes and sat themselves. ¡°Carl Young. This is Paul Robertson, Kevin Yarp, and Jim Hone.¡± He pointed at the other men in turn. While he did so, Jake compared faces and names to the profiles the Order had. Carl was high on the list of potentially reasonable individuals in this mess, being something like a conscientious objector to some of the worse aspects. Robertson and Hone were both known from the one delve that had happened, one of them being half in charge of their apocalypse prepper thing, and the other being one of the nonhumans that James had spoken to. Jake had no clue who Yarp was, but the younger man kept quietly glancing at Hone, which might mean he was another shifter. ¡±Alright. Let¡¯s talk.¡± Jake said, taking his own seat and flipping open the folder on the table in front of him, enjoying the pleasant feel of warm sunlight from the big windows behind him. ¡°We¡¯re all here to come to an agreement where we stop shooting each other, and get along. You all on board with that?¡± ¡±If I complain that you shot first, will that get us anywhere?¡± Carl asked, the older man running a hand across the grey moss that was his growing beard as he did so.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Jake made a show of checking his notes. ¡°Well, having reviewed all the footage of our people involved, I can safely say that¡¯s not true. Unless you¡¯re talking about firing on the¡­ look, I don¡¯t want to use the word ¡®demon¡¯, I think it¡¯s dehumanizing and unhelpful.¡± He didn¡¯t like the word dehumanizing either anymore, it didn¡¯t fit, but he used it for now. ¡°Do you have a specific species name for the ones that look like a goat and a swan hooked up?¡± ¡°The¡­ oh. They¡¯re asmodes. Well, that¡¯s what we call them sometimes.¡± The fact that their name for them was just a lightly altered version of a different demon name wasn¡¯t lost on Jake, who quickly figured that they¡¯d just changed a few letters on things from the Ars Goetia for all their naming needs. But it was close enough. ¡°Right. Well, the asmodes that our paladin fired on were in the process of attempting to murder two of your kids, so you¡¯re welcome. Encounters were repeated resolved with no aggression on our part or no casualties, right up until there was an attempted assassination of our people, who include noncombatants.¡± Jake kept his voice in Big Lawyer Mode as he spoke, flicking his eyes up to stare down the other side of the table. ¡°Do you think we should be offering you something in compensation for this?¡± He asked. ¡±Ooh. I don¡¯t.¡± Paper-And-Words supplied into the thick silence. ¡°It sounds like you tried to kill my brother, and are blaming us for it.¡± It stared a narrowed camera lens across the table. ¡°I am very young compared to all of you, but I am more prepared to be an adult about this.¡± Jake felt like that was a little over the line of professionalism, but he also hadn¡¯t known that Paper-And-Words and Ink-And-Key considered themselves siblings, and if he found out anyone had tried to shoot his brothers, he¡¯d be pissed too. ¡±Now,¡± Carl held out a hand, shushing a loud and angry outburst from one of his companions before it got too far, ¡°I know we¡¯re all upset, but I do want to address the kidnappings first.¡± He met Jake¡¯s eyes. ¡°I assume you know what I¡¯m talking about?¡± ¡±Yes. A number of young boys and girls have been removed from your custody.¡± Jake said flatly. ¡°We are prepared to offer full responsibility for their care, including all costs associated with their upbringing. Also, they will be given open lines of communication to any of their family or friends who they wish to remain in contact with, but unless they personally request it, that communication must be initiated by them.¡± ¡±Okay, hang on now.¡± Robertson spoke up, leaning forward with a smile like he was in on a joke. ¡°You can¡¯t expect us to just let you walk off with a bunch of kids. They have families, you know!¡± ¡±I do know. Those families signed off on putting them in cages.¡± Jake didn¡¯t mince words, but he made it clear that he wasn¡¯t, in the moment, angry. He was here to state facts and negotiate. ¡°Additionally, we don¡¯t know how many of those families entered into whatever program you have for storing people in the dungeon.¡± He raised an eyebrow, wondering if they¡¯d fill that information in. Carl shook his head. ¡°I had no idea that was happening until¡­ well, I had some idea. But the scale of it¡­¡± he sighed, and the other three all grimaced. Or, in one case, gave him an annoyed glare for just a moment. ¡°Their parents deserve to know they¡¯re safe though.¡± ¡±I agree. Which is why we are offering full transparency.¡± Jake said smoothly. ¡°But those kids are still people, and it should be up to them when and if they ever want to talk to the people who did that to them again.¡± They went back and forth a few times, but he knew they were going to agree. There was a mood to a negotiation when one side had already decided to say yes, but was just seeing if they could fire off another successful haggle. They couldn¡¯t, though; Jake¡¯s experience as a property lawyer didn¡¯t exactly translate here, but the hundred-odd yellow orbs he¡¯d picked up had a few useful goodies in them that made him feel more like a force of nature than a man in these situations. It was as they were agreeing on the final details of custody, and the process for getting the government paperwork done, that Jake realized Dave was gone. ¡±Where is he?¡± He muttered to Paper-And-Words as the group of Mormons looked over the draft of the agreement. ¡±He teleported away the second time one of them tried to explain that locking children up was good for them. I believe Dave has personal experience.¡± The camraconda said at a slightly too loud volume. ¡°It will be alright. I do not believe they mean to threaten us, and Dave was here largely as backup for that contingency.¡± ¡±Yeah, he¡¯s not much of a talker, is he?¡± Jake asked. The camraconda hissed in amusement. ¡°He does not know you at all, and barely knows me. But I have seen him speak at great length to others. He is comfortable around his friends, but reliable in all situations.¡± Jake didn¡¯t have anything to say to that. It took a special kind of person to have someone who didn¡®t really know you say you were reliable. He wished Dave had said something before vanishing though. ¡±So.¡± He announced to the room as they finalized the biggest concession they¡¯d wanted. At least, as far as he was concerned. ¡°While we¡¯re speaking about children.¡± ¡±Listen.¡± Carl Young flattened his palm on the table between them. ¡°I get it. I hear you. Things got out of hand. But we¡¯re handling things, alright? We don¡¯t need¡­ I don¡¯t know what you want to call it. A treaty? Not for this.¡± Paper-And-Words arched its body up, peering down at the humans imperiously. ¡°The Order of Endless Rooms disagrees.¡± It said, mouth cracked just enough that its brass arrowhead fangs were visible. ¡°You may not say you were irresponsible, but you promise you will be better.¡± ¡±But we will be better.¡± Robertson cut Paper-And-Words off. ¡°Russ is gone, and the people we thought we worked for aren¡¯t even involved. We can¡­ we can just change, right?¡± ¡±That is correct.¡± Paper-And-Words bobbed its head in his direction. ¡°You can. And we do not trust you. Why should we? Your side answered every challenge with preemptive violence, and became offended when your targets defended themselves.¡± ¡±Paper is right.¡± Jake said evenly. ¡°The two of us are here because we can be a little more impartial, but this is a discussion on how we can avoid open conflict.¡± Now this was a realm no amount of courtroom time or skill orbs had prepared him for. ¡°Your way of doing things has to change. So let¡¯s get to the point, yeah? What do you want?¡± They stared at him with varying levels of uncomfortable veiled hostility. ¡°Can we have a minute to discuss?¡± Carl asked. ¡±Of course.¡± Jake stood and Paper-And-Words slithered out of its seat. ¡°We¡¯ll be in the hall. Just let us know when you¡¯re ready.¡± It didn¡¯t take very long. The human and camraconda duo spent the time reviewing their notes, not bothered by having nothing to talk about in the moment. When they got called back in, it was to the awkward looks of people who simply weren¡¯t used to negotiating for themselves, and who had a poor idea of what they wanted, but were prepared to talk anyway. Carl Young cleared his throat loudly, like an organic engine backfiring. ¡°We want to keep the¡­ your people call them dungeons?¡± ¡±Correct.¡± Paper-And-Words tilted its head in brief curiosity. ¡°What do you call them?¡± ¡±Miracles. Aren¡¯t they?¡± The known shapeshifter on the other side asked, and the Order team kept both their expressions steady at the irony of the statement. Jake did it easily, he was used to not caring about dramatic irony. Paper-And-Words snapped its mouth shut as it replied in a digital tone that couldn¡¯t betray that much. ¡°I¡¯m sure that is a useful word.¡± It said. ¡°Define keep.¡± ¡±We decide who goes in and out, we keep our setup inside the dungeon, and we get to decide how we use the miracles that we discover.¡± Carl expanded. ¡°I only today learned that there¡¯s¡­ a whole other side to the miracle, that I didn¡¯t know about. But it¡¯s important work for our people. And God wouldn¡¯t have put it here for us if it wasn¡¯t meant for us to use.¡± ¡±That is-¡° Jake quickly cut in, getting Paper-And-Words to abandon whatever it was about to say in the most diplomatic way possible. ¡°I don¡¯t think we can agree to that. However, we¡¯re not asking you to give up everything. We¡¯d like shared access, which shouldn¡¯t be a problem given how many entrances there seem to be and that they¡¯re always open. If we trusted each other more, I¡¯d suggest a magic sharing program, where our gains are split between us based on our needs and wants. But that can be a possible future as we work together.¡± ¡±You didn¡¯t say anything about our¡­ fallback project.¡± Robertson implied a question. Jake nodded once in his direction. ¡°Your car park ark, yeah. We have stipulations for that, but the Order isn¡¯t actually offended by your plan.¡± ¡±You aren¡¯t?¡± Carl narrowed his eyes, wrinkles deepening like canyons on his aged face. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡±Because we have reliable information that the Earth is entering a dangerous era.¡± Jake didn¡¯t really know how to phrase it, and he also didn¡¯t like that saying it like that made him sound like a Lord of the Rings extra. ¡°Having backup plans to save lives is a good idea.¡± ¡±So you won¡¯t try to shut us down?¡± Jake shook his head. ¡°Not interested in that fight.¡± He told them, and picked up obvious relief from everyone who wasn¡¯t Carl himself. ¡°The Order would actually like to offer assistance to you, in regards to the process.¡± ¡±You want all our secrets.¡± Yarp added his voice to the conversation. ¡±We are prepared to trade everything we know about dungeons with you for your own experiences, yes.¡± This was Jake¡¯s territory. Negotiation of business terms was something he¡¯d sat in on or provided legal counsel to a hundred times for clients. ¡°But the important thing to us is ethical oversight. You¡¯ve been moving a lot of people into the dungeon, and we have good information that they¡¯re safe, but accidents do happen. We can provide additional experienced security to help with that. We would also insist on interviews with selected candidates, especially children, to confirm consent. I hear you¡¯ve been keeping families together, which is good, but ya¡¯ll haven¡¯t exactly made us believe that everyone in there agreed to it.¡± Robertson looked annoyed at every part of what was said, even the praise. ¡°You can¡¯t expect us to seriously let outsiders who aren¡¯t even church members dictate how we conduct our-¡° ¡±Paul.¡± Carl set a hand on the man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Did everyone agree?¡± He asked in a low voice that held an undercurrent of disappointment. ¡±Carl you can¡¯t seriously be-¡° ¡±Paul.¡± The old man repeated himself. ¡°Did everyone agree.¡± The younger man pulled back, adjusting his shirt by the collar, looking suddenly uncomfortable with the aggressively pleasant conference room. ¡°Of course everyone agreed.¡± He probably lied. ¡°Look, we don¡¯t need help. The place is big enough that we can share it, but I don¡¯t want outsiders nosing around in our business Carl.¡± Paper-And-Words hissed sharply. ¡°This is a place we can compromise.¡± It said. ¡°We do not need to personally ask everyone. Would you change your methods to have more checks? You could ask people yourself, keep recordings and logs.¡± ¡±That would buy a lot of peace of mind.¡± Jake nodded at the camraconda. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t need us looking over your shoulders, just keep us in the loop. After all, we aren¡¯t trying to stop you.¡± ¡±Just keep a leash on us.¡± ¡±Fascinating. So you do understand why that is wrong.¡± Paper-And-Words said to the open air, not focusing on anyone in particular. It didn¡¯t stop all three non-Carl people from protesting instantly, and causing both Jake and the old man to sigh in shared frustration. Jake had the impression, as their eyes met, that both of them were thinking they should have left their extras at home for this. When the arguing died down, Jake moved to take control of the conversation again, and this time, it was for something he doubted they¡¯d get such a clear agreement on. ¡°One more important thing.¡± He stated in a firm voice that silenced the last snippet of a comment. ¡°And just telling you this is going to cause you some problems.¡± ¡±Why do it then?¡± Carl¡¯s question wasn¡¯t hostile at all. More like he was honestly trying to understand the man across from him. An attitude Jake could appreciate. Understanding was the key to all contract law. ¡°Because we either tear that bandaid off now, or you collapse later when you find out yourself.¡± He said. ¡°Here¡¯s what you¡¯re all missing; we actually don¡¯t want to fight you. We don¡¯t think you¡¯re perfect and you screwed up bigtime, but most of you aren¡¯t evil or irredeemable. The Order wants you to work with us, because we think you can improve. But you won¡¯t ever get there if you self-destruct before that. So your group being stable - and not having any more megalomaniacs in it - is important to us.¡± ¡±Wait.¡± Hone spoke up for the first time. ¡°No, you can¡¯t.¡± Jake could, but he started off with the backstory. ¡±Recently, our paladin encountered something in North Smiths that is a big problem. We call them pillars.¡± They also called themselves pillars, and he tried not to wince as he missed being perfectly clear there. This kind of fantasy thing was still new to him, even if he did have a pet dragon now. ¡°This one is called Hitsuyo Aku, or ¡®Necessary Evil¡¯. He, or maybe it, is incredibly dangerous and we still don¡¯t know what it can actually do.¡± ¡±Where was it?¡± Carl asked sharply. ¡±In one of your secret prisons.¡± Paper-And-Words replied in the most neutral of neutral tones. Jake really, really wished the camraconda would stop intentionally antagonizing the people they were talking to. Though that was true. ¡°Yeah. It wanted to talk to our paladin, though it might just have been taking advantage of a window of opportunity. Either way, what it wanted was for us to not interfere with your ark project.¡± And that got them to pause. Jerks of surprise and angry expressions showing on faces. Robertson took a second to work through it, then, still scowling but now specifically at Jake, leaned forward. ¡°Wait, so you the scary monster happens to be on our side and you happen to be the only one to know about it? That¡¯s convenient.¡± ¡±Gonna remind you we¡¯re also okay with the ark project.¡± Jake said idly. ¡°But you need to understand why it fixated on this particular thing. See, pillars are bound by their roles. Or, as we¡¯re learning, by their belief in their own roles. And Aku, it turns out, is kind of racist.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t follow.¡± Carl shook his head. ¡°I know that Utah isn¡¯t exactly¡­ ethnic¡­¡± ¡±Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t say that.¡± Jake couldn¡¯t keep a wince off his face. ¡°No, the pillar wanted us to avoid interfering because it believes cooperation between humans and dungeon life is a necessary evil.¡± The two known humans on the other side of the table stared at him, glancing slightly at Paper-And-Words who had a smug look on his stubby cabled serpent face. Understanding was slowly creeping in to Carl¡¯s eyes, but the other one looked confused still. ¡°We don¡¯t cooperate, though.¡± He said. ¡°We¡­¡± ¡±We don¡¯t cooperate on purpose.¡± Carl said slowly. ¡°But we know some of the demons can impersonate people, don¡¯t we?¡± ¡±Yeah, but why would they help us?¡± Robertson demanded, ignoring or just not noticing that Hone and Yarp were now both looking deeply uncomfortable. Paper-And-Words offered an answer, though it was obfuscated slightly. ¡°There are several reasons. Perhaps they gain something from your presence in the dungeon. Perhaps they themselves do not understand. Or, what we have found to be the most likely option in our experience, it is possible that many of them agree with you. Human beliefs are often compelling, especially to life that has never had a culture to believe in. You have possibly spread word of your deity without realizing it.¡± ¡±That doesn¡¯t make any sense, though!¡± Robertson threw his arms up. ¡°Why would they even bother?¡± ¡±At the end of the day, that isn¡¯t really important to this conversation.¡± Jake said slowly. ¡°I¡¯m here to give you the facts, because honesty will create a more stable relationship. What I can offer you is the support and experience of the Order of Endless Rooms in integrating with another species. Or support to that species if you take hostile action.¡± He was speaking past the humans now, to the shifters in the room. ¡±To them?!¡± Robertson was offended. ¡°Why them and not us?!¡± ¡±Well Paul, I think you¡¯re sort of answering the question for them, aren¡¯t you?¡± Carl asked, eying Hone on the other side of the loud human man with a kind of resigned acceptance. ¡°They¡¯ve got a snake the size of a horse sitting on their side of the table, and you¡¯re avoiding eye contact.¡± ¡±It doesn¡¯t have eyes.¡± Paul said with petulant anger. ¡±The bottom line is this,¡± Jake said calmly, ¡°your nonhuman members may cause you internal strife issues. We can¡¯t fix those problems for you. But you need to know because otherwise, it¡¯s a time bomb waiting to go off, and we refuse to be caught by it.¡± He paused and folded his documents closed, tapping the edge of the pages on the table. ¡°Now we can keep talking, and work out details of shared access, figure out how we¡¯re going to pass information to each other, the release of any captive demons into our care, what kind of financial compensation you¡¯ll be getting, and all that good stuff. Or Paper and I can take a break, and you can sort out what you¡¯re doing with yourselves. Up to you.¡± They looked at each other, at least one each species on that side of the table showing obvious suspicion of the others. But after a quiet moment of tense apprehension, Carl decided he wasn¡¯t interested in what might seem like a childish game to him. ¡°Let¡¯s talk details.¡± He said. ¡°We can¡­ figure out the other stuff on our own.¡± He sighed. ¡°You want our captured demons?¡± He asked with an exhausted tone. ¡°Some of them are dangerous.¡± ¡±I believe you.¡± Jake nodded. ¡°So let¡¯s figure out what we¡¯re going to do about that.¡± _____ When James woke up in the medical wing, he wasn¡¯t that surprised. Because this time, finally, he had ended up here under his own power and not by having to be carried. It had taken two telepad attempts; whatever spell tethered people to a place was definitely still in effect on him. He¡¯d hoped it wasn¡¯t, but that didn¡¯t count for much these days. That said, when he¡¯d tried the first time, the grey thorns in that between place had felt a lot weaker than when he¡¯d tried to move Lincon a couple days ago. So James had insisted on trying again, against everyone¡¯s recommendation, and on the second attempt, he¡¯d just torn through it all. It hurt, but only spiritually, and the pain turned off as soon as it was over. Which was nice. The current lead theory was that, like with all the Utah spells, it took time to build up a cast to a workable level. James had likely just not been hit by a version powerful enough to actually hold him here. At least most of the kids hadn¡¯t been deemed flight risks enough that they got their own tags. It seemed like the spell dropped when the caster made it, or when they died, so there were some people who were free, but a few that were still stuck down in North Smiths until negotiations concluded or the Order found another solution. But it was a work in progress. The important thing was that James woke up and felt absolutely wiped. Energy, Endurance, purple orbs, the light thrum of the dregs of his Velocity, not a single bit of it made him feel like anything except for a human sized bruise resting on a hospital bed. But he didn¡¯t wake up wondering if things had gone horribly wrong, or if he¡¯d failed somehow, or if this was when he should just give up and retire to live on his accumulated magic on a tropical island somewhere until the world ended. Instead he woke up knowing that there were only two deaths, both on the other side. He woke up already knowing the status of Arrush, Keeka, Ink-And-Key, Momo, Rho, and Anesh. He woke up aware that while what he had done was risky, stupid, and almost certainly only seemed like a good idea because of the agonizing pain he was in at the time, that it had still been a heavy blow against the rival faction¡¯s operations. He also woke up with his own patient chart conveniently nearby, so he knew what was wrong with himself too. James was absolutely going to need some form of long term care. Cracked orbit, shattered maxillary bone, major bruising on half his face, possible spinal damage, and that was just from one gunshot. All of that was on top of an unhealed stab wound that had been ripped open again, several shallow cuts and bruises from strikes he¡¯d failed to dodge, a broken rib he hadn¡¯t even noticed, and a low blood oxygen level that had threatened permanent damage if he hadn¡¯t stopped casting Climb spells and gotten an oxygenation potion. There was a circled note that Deb suspected the blue orbs they were using in place of actually going to a fucking hospital were doing a half-assed job. James had laughed at the profanity in the note, especially since at least one of their hospital options was this very basement. He got a little update on things in the afternoon from Nate, which was nice. No massive crisis had appeared without him around. And then, as soon as her Response shift was over and it was known that he was awake, Alanna had appeared at the foot of his bed. Not by magic, she was just really sneaky when she wanted to be and James was distracted by playing sudoku on his phone. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Was the first thing Alanna asked as she came in, a chuckle building underneath her words as she leaned on the foot of his bed to stare down at him. ¡±¡­Sudoku?¡± James asked curiously, before Alanna raised a hand off the bed¡¯s containment railing and pointed at his other hand where he was holding his phone charger between his fingers. ¡°Oh! I figured out that I can sort of drip feed the electric charge my skin makes into this, and it kiiiiinda works! I¡¯m really smug about it, especially cause the outlet is, like, a million miles away.¡± He pointed with the prongs of the plug toward the wall, which was, at most, four feet from him. Alanna nodded sagely, flopping forward onto his feet with no regard for her spine¡¯s integrity. ¡°Metal.¡± She said. And then went quiet for a while, just resting against James in silence as he tucked his phone against his leg so he had his hands free to run through her hair. It was, he thought, convenient that she was tall enough for him to do that. After a moment, he felt compelled to say something. ¡°So hey.¡± James started slowly. ¡°I feel like I should apologize for nearly dying again.¡± ¡±Nah, you¡¯re fine.¡± Alanna¡¯s muffled voice didn¡¯t sound dejected or anything, just a little tired. ¡°I mean, I missed a new dungeon-¡° ¡±Maybe two!¡± ¡±-maybe two new dungeons. I missed a pillar. I missed demons. But you had it handled, right? And Anesh was there.¡± Alanna rolled sideways to stare ¡®up¡¯ at James. ¡°Buddy, at this point, either I trust you, or I¡¯m a fucking idiot.¡± James didn¡¯t really know what to say to that. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think you¡¯re an idiot.¡± He said quietly. ¡°It woulda been nice to have you there. But then I guess you could have gotten ambushed too, and¡­¡± he huffed out something like a laugh. ¡°I guess you¡¯re the bulletproof one, so that probably would have been better.¡± She hopped back to her feet, talking with animated gestures as she pivoted around at the foot of the bed. ¡°I mean, I do feel like Anesh¡¯s whole ¡®have no fear Alanna, you do your day job, I will take care of our boyfriend¡¯ thing would have been better if it had, you know¡­¡± James snapped his fingers. ¡±Oh! I should tell you right now, Anesh¡¯s fight or flight response seems to default to ¡®turning into a fucking terminator¡¯. So, like, don¡¯t worry about that, I guess?¡± He paused and stared at where Alanna was nervously tapping her foot, swaying back and forth as she looked out the glass wall of the room into the spatially extended hallway of the medical wing. ¡°¡­Alanna, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± He said firmly. ¡°Everything is okay.¡± ¡±Everyone got hurt.¡± Alanna said with muffled pain in her voice. ¡°And I wasn¡¯t there.¡± ¡±Oh yeah? What were you doing?¡± James prodded. Alanna¡¯s answer came quickly, like she used all her extra magical memory to keep a record of her Response work. ¡°Community outreach project that ended up getting a couple new recruits and that Harvey says will make a few neighborhoods statistically safer. A few in home visits for diagnosing basic health stuff. Found a stolen bike, returned it. Stopped a burglary. Brought an abuse survivor back to the Lair to hang out for a while while we get his stuff moved to a new place. Uh¡­ probably a couple other things?¡± ¡±¡­Alanna I fucking love you.¡± James started with. ¡±But?¡± He could hear the smile even though she was facing away from him. James did laugh this time. ¡°But that¡¯s about twenty times more value than I think you could have provided just keeping my ass slightly safer?¡± He tightened a hand over his chest as the laughing pulled something that ached. ¡°I beat up a bunch of dudes, shot a demon giraffe-¡° ¡±What.¡± She was positive James wasn¡¯t allowed to gloss over that. ¡±-and got a bunch of kids out of bad situations. But there¡¯s more kids down there who still need intervention, even if the other guys did promise to change their ways. You¡¯ll have a chance to help, I promise.¡± James watched as Alanna padded over to the side of his bed in her pacing, and reached out to grab her hand. Her skin was warm, and her calloused grip on him almost instantly started to hurt his fingers through his injuries, but James didn¡¯t let go. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be everywhere.¡± She shrugged. ¡°What¡¯s the point of being strong if I can¡¯t use it?¡± ¡±Oh fuck off.¡± James wheezed, trying not to laugh and failing to avoid making the motion that hurt his insides. ¡°What was the list of things you did yesterday again?¡± ¡±I forgot.¡± Alanna said defiantly, turning her head to stare regally at the row of cabinets against the ceiling and not at James. He narrowed his eye at his girlfriend. ¡°I know you cannot do that.¡± He challenged her. ¡°But seriously, it¡¯s fine. ¡±You are literally missing an eye!¡± She shouted as she spun on him, using the sort of shout voice you used when you wanted to be loud, but didn¡¯t want to annoy the ratroach in the adjacent room who was still sleeping off his own medical treatment. ¡°You got fucking shot in the head, and I wasn¡¯t there!¡± James¡¯ mouth twisted as he felt his emotions go to war in his chest. Not meeting Alanna¡¯s gaze, he stared out of the room to where the occasional person was passing by in the long medical area hall. Mostly humans and camracondas, but he saw a reshaped ratroach in scrubs skitter by in what was either a hustle, or just how that particular person moved all the time, and he had no way to know which. ¡±It¡¯s okay.¡± He said eventually, in a soft voice. Before Alanna could protest, James continued. ¡°It is. It¡¯s okay. There¡¯s a bunch of us in our slowly expanding relationship cloud, and we¡¯re not always all going to be there for each other. Alanna, I fucking love you, a lot. You¡¯re never going to stop being important to me. Having you around has, objectively, made me a better person, and will continue to make me a better person. And you¡¯ll probably have ample opportunity to save my ass in the future.¡± ¡±Good, cause I like that ass.¡± Alanna muttered, face tinged red as she refused to look away from James but still felt a little overwhelmed at the direct way he was talking. He smiled up at her. ¡±Yeah. Well. My point is, we can support each other, but we don¡¯t have to be dependent on each other. We make each other better, we don¡¯t make each other baseline functional. I think both of us can be heroic on our own, you know? You aren¡¯t responsible for me.¡± ¡±I¡¯m sure that¡¯ll make me feel so much better when you get shot in the head again.¡± Alanna tried to keep up her irritation, but it was clear James was getting through to her. He waved a hand, wincing as his wrist hurt and the IV he had in pulled slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± He said, and he wasn¡¯t even lying. ¡°Look, it didn¡¯t kill me this time. I¡¯m in the top percentile of people who can survive being shot in the head! And even if I do die¡­ well, you won¡¯t be alone.¡± He¡¯d started to say it as a joke, but realized midway through that it was just true, and a little serious. So he did what he usually did on reflex and tried to make a joke. ¡°You can fill my slot with more Anesh! That¡¯s a real option now!¡± ¡±What about me?¡± Anesh asked as he slid the hospital room door open and stepped in to see Alanna trying to smother James with his own pillow. ¡°Am I interrupting some kind of slander, and Alanna is defending my honor? That¡¯s sweet of you, makes me feel good to know-¡° ¡±No I¡¯m trying to murder James for being a jerk.¡± Alanna said quickly. ¡°And¡­ also the honor thing, yeah, sure.¡± ¡±¡­I am less good feeling.¡± Anesh deadpanned as Alanna let James go and he came up for air with a theatrical gasp. ¡°Does James have a moment before being murdered so I can fill him in on a few things?¡± He asked Alanna, sliding up next to her by the bed and trading a quick kiss with his partner. Alanna made a show of sighing and replacing the pillow. ¡°I suppose.¡± She said, trying and mostly succeeding to let go of her fears and apprehensions about James¡¯ well being, and their shared future together. ¡°Can I also be filled in?¡± ¡±¡­Yes? Yes. Why would any of this be secret from you?¡± Anesh gave her a quizzical look. She just shrugged, rolling a shoulder a few times to loosen up her muscles. ¡°I dunno, I¡¯ve been busy doing normal stuff, anything could have changed. Like, we¡¯ve got a frog now? He¡¯s pretty chill! I had no idea!¡± ¡±Oh yeah, Kalik.¡± James tried to nod from where he was scooting up the bed to try to sit up, and found that he¡¯d rather just not. ¡°I haven¡¯t met him yet except for¡­ originally. I hear he¡¯s doing good.¡± ¡±How do you even know his name?¡± Alanna laughed, vibrant life coming back to her voice almost instantly as the cloud of doubt passed. James chuckled softly. ¡°Arrush told me. They¡¯re friends, or something friend-adjacent. It¡¯s neat. Anyway, Anesh, reports!¡± ¡°Alanna gave me a kiss before getting into the heavy stuff.¡± Anesh said, coyly crossing his arms and smirking at James. His boyfriend sighed as deeply as he could without murdering himself, and leaned forward with a groan to pucker his lips, which Anesh took advantage of by lithely leaning down and giving him a peck. ¡°Thank you!¡± He smiled. ¡±Weren¡¯t you shot too?¡± James demanded, dejected. The corner of Anesh¡¯s mouth quirked upward as he used what he¡¯d learned from James and covered up his own anxiety with good humor. ¡±It didn¡¯t really take.¡± He said. ¡°Also before I tell you anything, when are you fixing your eye?¡± James started to reflexively raise his eyebrows before stopping himself. ¡°What, is that an option?¡± He asked, before realizing what he¡¯d just said. ¡°Right, shaper substance. Um¡­ I don¡¯t know?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Maybe in a bit, when I know more about what I want to be. The thing is, every time you use it, it gets harder, even if the changes are small. That¡¯s why Deb¡¯s thing with Arrush didn¡¯t give him his ideal final form, right? And I don¡¯t want to use it just to fix a small problem, when I might want to make a bigger real change to my body later, you know?¡± Alanna and Anesh looked at each other, then back at James. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll hold his arms,¡± Anesh said, ¡°and you can go back to pillowing him.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t think that¡¯s what that means.¡± Alanna said with a deep laugh. ¡°That sounds like I¡¯m smothering him to death with my tits.¡± James started to raise a hand, and Alanna lightly slapped it back down. ¡°But yeah, buddy, you sound like you¡¯re playing life like it¡¯s Final Fantasy and you aren¡¯t using potions in case you need them for the final boss! Come on!¡± ¡±I¡­ use potions all the time though.¡± James protested. ¡°Real life potions. The ones that do useful stuff.¡± ¡±You know what I mean!¡± ¡±I do. I¡¯ll think about it.¡± He rubbed at the space under his now more professionally bandaged eye. ¡°Really. Actually I¡¯ll think about it. But probably after this is all resolved.¡± Anesh cleared his throat in the most British disbelieving way possible. ¡°Resolved?¡± He asked, drawing the word out. Looking between them, James tilted his head back. ¡°Yes?¡± He asked, trying to find a facial expression that didn¡¯t hurt. ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll probably take a day or two to make sure I¡¯m not gonna die, then head back to North Smiths, and get to work on¡­ what?¡± His partners were staring at him. ¡°What? Did something happen?¡± ¡±Absolutely you will not be bloody doing that!¡± Anesh¡¯s accent came out in full when he was upset, James found it cute. ¡°Why do you think you¡¯ll be doing that?!¡± ¡±Because we need to get back to work there? Also there¡¯s dungeons.¡± Alanna let out a relieved gasp, fingers spread on her chest. ¡±Oh, you can go to the dungeon, that¡¯s fine.¡± She said. ¡°We thought you meant something dangerous.¡± ¡±Our lives are so fucked up.¡± James muttered. ¡±James, we¡¯re in negotiations with the¡­ church¡­¡± he didn¡¯t want to say it that way. ¡°And we¡¯re working with local law enforcement. Myles and Yin and six other rogues are back down there going over everything they can from the leads we generated. They already found another meetinghouse that was being used for this, though it looks like Anderson was the guy people reported to there too. He might actually be the source of a lot of the problems, though people also might be using him as a scapegoat. The old bill got a warrant for one of the apostles and they¡¯re cooperating in sharing documents, and it looks like there isn¡¯t any evidence that there was a higher authority signing off on anything.¡±. Anesh shrugged lightly. ¡°Putting aside how a lot of the Order doesn¡¯t like the direction our ¡®negotiations¡¯ are going, it seems like we¡¯re close to done.¡± ¡±There¡¯s cleanup.¡± James said flatly. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of kids down there that need to be contacted and given a real choice. Also I can explain the negotiation thing.¡± Alanna nodded eagerly. ¡°Do that! Cause I was gonna be annoyed at Redding for being kind of¡­ uh¡­ mild with them? You watched the first meeting, right?¡± ¡±I did. Just cause I¡¯m in a hospital bed doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not online.¡± James smiled. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s partly cause they outnumber us.¡± ¡±Buh?¡± Alanna¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡±Yes, exactly, thank you. But seriously, Alanna, the reason Anesh is being awkward saying ¡®the church¡¯ is because this¡­ it¡¯s not¡­ they aren¡¯t a sect. They aren¡¯t a splinter faction or a cult or a secret group. They¡¯re¡­ they¡¯re just the church. No one reported to any of their high leadership, but that doesn¡¯t mean no one knew. They were all taking advantage of the magic. And why shouldn¡¯t they? That¡¯s what we want, right? I totally get it! I just¡­ disagree with their conclusions.¡± James scowled at no one in particular. ¡°Anyway, they outnumber the fuck out of us, and we know a lot of their magic is dangerous as hell. Most of the kids we got are the rebels, but the ones who aren¡¯t are about as lethal as your average knight, and a lot more fanatical, but they¡¯re also kids. I don¡¯t wanna fight that. No one does. So we¡¯re negotiating from the position of cooperation and ethical oversight, and letting them assume that they can¡¯t fight us.¡± ¡±Because they probably can?¡± Alanna asked. ¡±Or because we would suffer for winning.¡± Anesh frowned. ¡°Because they¡¯re making child soldiers.¡± James grimaced, letting his head press back into his pillows. ¡±Exactly. So we¡¯re trying to set up an arrangement where they stop doing that, and we get to integrate into their process a little.¡± ¡±And all it costs is¡­ ignoring that they shot you.¡± Alanna said flatly. ¡°In the head. To kill you.¡± She was back to being angry, and wasn¡¯t afraid to show it. ¡°James they¡¯re murderers and child abusers.¡± ¡±I know.¡± He said quietly. ¡°What are we supposed to do about it? This isn¡¯t like the Alchemists or Horizonists. We don¡¯t have the power to just make them stop being monsters. The best we can do is¡­ something.¡± Anesh crossed his arms again, staring out into the medical wing hallway with a long stare. ¡±Something is a start.¡± He said. ¡±Gotta start somewhere.¡± James agreed, closing his eye for a minute. ¡°We can have Alanna¡¯s plan of punching everyone as a fallback.¡± Their girlfriend threw her hands up in the air with a shocked ¡°Hey!¡± Followed quickly by ¡°How did you even know that was my¡­ oh, fuck off.¡± She flicked James in the forehead as he started laughing. ¡°Whatever. I get it. I just don¡¯t like it. But that¡¯s everyone right now, huh? Bah. Whatever. Anesh why are you here when James already knows everything?¡± ¡±To be fair, I¡¯m also using my skulljack to participate in conversation with myself.¡± Anesh said, almost embarrassed to admit it to his partners. ¡°Lightly. But there¡¯s been a light breakthrough in the Climb project, and I wanted to know what I thought about it.¡± ¡±You¡¯re so weird, I love you.¡± James laughed. ¡°Tell us about that later. Right now, what happened to the crocodiles?¡± He found that to be much more important than potential magic at the moment. Magic was magic, but people were people, and they were his responsibility in a way. Anesh took a second to catch up to what he meant. ¡°Crocodiles? What are the¡­ oh! The dungeon creatures with all the teeth, right! They¡¯re okay. They seem like they¡¯re kids, and they¡¯ve lashed out a few times, but they certainly aren¡¯t monsters. Myles found another of them in the other meetinghouse, along with another stash of books.¡± He scratched at his nose as he spoke, before remembering something mildly important. ¡°They didn¡¯t speak English, by the way. Not really. Unlike our chanter adventures though, yellow orbs work just fine on them. So it¡¯s ¡®didn¡¯t¡¯ and not ¡®don¡¯t¡¯.¡± On her phone, Alanna was looking at one of the reference pictures the Order¡¯s server contained of the creatures. ¡°Mouths like that seem like they¡¯d make talking hard?¡± She asked as she turned her phone like it could get her a better angle somehow. Anesh nodded. ¡°Our mad social scientists are working on a species dialect for them.¡± ¡°Hold up.¡± James¡¯ laugh was more of a surprised cough. ¡±We have mad social scientists? I clearly let Research get out of hand.¡± ¡°We have all sorts of mad scientists.¡± Anesh told him proudly. ¡°That¡¯s what Research is. Have you seen what Momo gets up to down here with her totem projects?¡± ¡±No!?¡± James spread his hands, shifting the tubes and cords that tethered him to the medical equipment around the bed. ¡°Is that not a problem?!¡± Anesh gave a polite chuckle. ¡°Possibly. Well. Regardless, no one has asked questions about us looting either the books or the crocodiles, which is nice.¡± ¡°They might not be able to. Utah is weird.¡± Alanna stretched in a long and lazy arc, limbering up her muscles like she was eager to get out of the small room and back to doing something else. ¡°So¡­ how are you?¡± She asked James awkwardly. ¡±I¡¯m alright, why?¡± He shared a confused look with Anesh. ¡±Cause I feel bad leaving you alone?¡± Alanna rubbed the back of her neck, fidgeting with her skulljack. ¡°But also I wanna get going. So I¡¯m asking like this!¡± Anesh leaned over to James to whisper conspiratorially. ¡°Do you ever wonder if your anxiety is contagious?¡± He asked. Rolling his eyes, James replied in a conversational tone. ¡±Oh, Alanna¡¯s had anxiety for as long as I¡¯ve known her. She just deals with it the same way she deals with every problem. Brute force.¡± ¡±Hey!¡± ¡±Also I¡¯m good, get out of here. I¡¯m exhausted though. And¡­ I guess¡­ if I¡¯m not needed for Utah anymore¡­ I could take a little vacation?¡± Anesh eyed his boyfriend suspiciously. ¡±Seriously this time?¡± He probed, and got a nod. ¡°Well, we can arrange that. Alanna was talking earlier about dragging you down to Townton to make you relax away from any ongoing crises, and I think letting her might be a good plan now.¡± ¡±Letting?¡± Alanna barked out a hearty laugh. ¡±Townton?¡± James said in the same tone, before getting raised eyebrows from Anesh. ¡°The place full of chanters and necroads and and dungeon and Camilles and-¡° Anesh palmed his face. ¡±James, do shut up.¡± He said in exasperation. ¡°It¡¯s summer. It¡¯s nice and hot so you can sunburn to your heart¡¯s content. There¡¯s magic and weird things, and you¡¯ll love it. You can help them with the restoration of the local natural history museum.¡± ¡±Oh shit, I would love to do that!¡± ¡±That¡¯s what I said!¡± Alanna offered him a high five, which he foolishly took, feeling his orb-enhanced bones rattle like they were about to fly apart. ¡°We can bring Arrush too if you want. Anyone else who might wanna hang out?¡± James¡¯ face fell slightly. ¡°Arrush is¡­ well, he¡¯s got mandatory quarantine for a while. But I talked to Keeka earlier. Arrush isn¡¯t doing okay, and says he wants to be left alone.¡± ¡±Keeka is staying with him.¡± Anesh said with a small frown. ¡°It¡¯s because he was changed, yeh?¡± ¡±Yeah, Deb stands by her choice, and I agree with her. But I¡¯m gonna give Arrush space for a little. He knows I¡¯ll be there if he calls.¡± James sighed. ¡°I dunno, seems weird to talk about vacation friends in the face of that. Maybe TQ?¡± The conversational whiplash threatened to throw Alanna entirely, but she recovered admirably. ¡±TQ hangs out down there all the time anyway.¡± She said. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯ll check in later, we can figure it out.¡± She slid the door open and left by slipping through it until just her head and one hand was left, waving to the two of them. ¡°Love you both!¡± She called as she narrowly dodged a passing nurse. Anesh shook his head, a goofy smile that he shared with James on his face as their girlfriend left. James reached out and took his hand, grabbing his attention as well. ¡°Still feeling okay about all this?¡± He asked suddenly. ¡°Not the Order or the magic, I mean¡­ us?¡± ¡±More than ever.¡± Anesh said, leaning down again to kiss James¡¯ forehead, which mostly just prompted his boyfriend to frantically try to rearrange his hair at the unfamiliar sensation. ¡°Enjoy your vacation.¡± He said, watching as his boyfriend swiped his hands across his head like the kiss had been toxic. ¡°You wanker.¡± ¡±Heh.¡± James stopped his eccentric flailing and met Anesh¡¯s eyes. ¡°Love you.¡± ¡±Love you too.¡± Anesh headed to follow in Alanna¡¯s wake. ¡°Let us know if you¡¯ll be home tonight?¡± James nodded after him. And then he was alone again in the hospital bed, at least for a little bit. He was sure someone else would come by to say hi eventually. But until Deb declared that he could leave, he was going to sit here, and let his enhanced body heal as fast as it could. Part of him really did feel like he could be, should be doing more. And he was awake enough now that he could at least keep up on Order events, so he started going through the conversations and reports from everyone who was now involved in Utah¡¯s thing. And he found that¡­ the Order was handling it. Not all at once, not perfectly, but then, he wouldn¡¯t have handled it all at once and perfectly either. Wellness checks from Recovery on any kid who might have been exposed to their brainwashing program, an agreed upon consent form and mandatory reporting for anyone going into their doomsday dungeon bunker, investigation notes on further problems, it had barely been a day and the Order had swept in through the door James had kicked open, and set up shop. The local police were even cooperating, though that might be driven by either gratitude for James saving their captain¡¯s life, or apprehension that the substantial amount of bribery going on might be exposed. The only real loose end that wasn¡¯t currently being tugged on was the gentleman bastard who had possibly been the one to enable the last ambush against James and his companions, and who definitely stole a whole fucking lot of gold from at least one basement. James felt himself sag in relief. And also¡­ pride. Even without him, the Order was exactly what he wanted it to be. They were doing good, they were out there, getting involved and helping people and being the people he knew they could be at their very best. This was what he¡¯d wanted, from the moment he realized that people weren¡¯t just going home and the magic wasn¡¯t just a few neat tricks. People came to the Order as survivors, victims, or sometimes just curious recruits. And if they stayed long enough, they got transformed into something else. Into heroes. Big and small, human or not, they had joined the ranks of the Order of Endless Rooms, and became part of the process of making each other better. Making the world better. And with time and practice, heroism became just a part of who they all were. James closed his remaining eye, and closed the skulljack connection. He was going to take a nap, maybe say hi to Zhu in his dreams, and then when he woke up, he could¡­ figure out what was next. But there was no pressure. Not on him personally. Maybe he¡¯d actually take the whole vacation this time, and not just sneak back into his office after a day away. Chapter 299 ¡°Utopia is a verb in the present continuous.¡± -No End, No Beginning; Levi Diniz- _____ Over James¡¯ head, the world sealed itself up. A pouch of sky slowly being closed together and sealed like a ziplock bag as the logisticor teleport that they¡¯d designated the vast majority of the Lair¡¯s back parking lot for finished its work. The things were always fascinating to watch, for two reasons. One was because it was just super cool to watch another part of Earth slowly creeping upward like someone was rolling up a garage door. Every part of it, even the little details like how the light was a different color on the other side, all just made the process feel magic; in the sense that it was wondrous and not that it was a teleporter powered by literal magic. The other part though was that James found it a little terrifying that, aside from the moving line of where space had already folded as the sphere closed itself, it was impossible to tell that there was a potentially lethal disturbance just sitting there. It wasn¡¯t assuredly lethal; James was pretty sure they¡¯d flown Pendragon through one of these things before and it had been fine. But safety tests had shown that there was about a five to ten percent chance, depending how fast you were going, that any objects pushed through the portal before it had ¡®closed¡¯ would take some damage. Damage that varied from ¡®bent slightly¡¯ to ¡®torn in half that one time¡¯ which had happened to an unlucky jeep. They had a safety fence around the perimeter now. James approved. He and Alanna were standing on the upper platform of the logisticor space. So far, no one had actually gone through with James¡¯ original idea to build an Ominous Sphere for passenger transport, but they were moving that direction. It wasn¡¯t even for space requirements yet; they could run the teleport every ten minutes, they weren¡¯t really hurting for volume moved. Instead, because of how often restored vehicles were brought out of Townton, the platform was used as a place for pedestrians to stand safely during loading and unloading. The Order of Endless Rooms was a lot of things James had never expected it to be. And now the list included ¡®writing their own safety manuals¡¯. It was great. He loved this stuff. ¡°Mmh, this place always smells weird.¡± Alanna said, stretching as she shouldered the backpack she¡¯d brought for their little vacation and prepared to head down before anyone started filling the marked off teleport space with more cars. ¡±You only say that cause of all the asbestos in the air.¡± James elbowed her side, moving carefully to keep his own injuries from aching, but feeling a lot better even with just a couple days of bed rest. ¡°But hey, sometimes the price of our own city is mesothelioma!¡± Alanna swept her gaze around the partly restored area around the logisticor plaza, craning her neck like she could maybe see farther to the burned ruins of parts of the city that had been hit by fire. ¡±¡­Really.¡± Her deadpan response covered up an actual worry that they might be sticking people in a toxic cleanup zone. ¡±I mean, I was joking, but now I¡¯m not sure. We should check.¡± James walked past her, taking careful steps down and feeling the stab wound in his side shuddering with every one of them. The sounds of Townton in late afternoon wrapped around them as he made his way to the repaved road and tried to get his bearings in a city where his phone was no longer a useful source of map data. ¡°So hey, now that I¡¯m free from hospital food, do you want¡­ oh, hey!¡± Alanna nearly ran into James as he stopped and waved at a couple people that were lingering around the edge of the teleport zone. The thirty meter diameter circle would not have fit anywhere reasonable in the city of Townton before its uncontrolled demolition, and afterward, the Order had been in a situation where the nearest swath of park that could have fit it was in use by a bunch of chanters. So a combination of absorbed blue orbs and salvaged construction machinery and dumpsters had pushed back a wide zone that had then been repaved and was slowly being improved on. There were a lot of benches around the outside, and on one of those, a familiar camraconda and ratroach were lingering, one of them calmly watching the teleport and the other with her legs curled up and head buried against the camraconda¡¯s side. ¡±Oh hey.¡± Alanna echoed, shoving James as softly as possible so he got out of the way of the people behind them. ¡°These two lovable weirdos.¡± James started to roll his eye before getting a pang of pain as a reminder of why that was still a bad idea, and headed over to where TQ and Cheha were sitting. ¡°Yo.¡± He greeted his first camraconda friend. ¡°Fancy meeting you here.¡± ¡±Yes, fancy that.¡± TQ said in his curious digital tone that he never actually changed to sound more organic. ¡°It is because Alanna told us to meet you here.¡± He instantly ratted out his source. Alanna just gave an unconcerned shrug as her boyfriend looked back at her. ¡°What? I wanna get lunch and TQ wanted to say hi while we were down here! It solves two problems!¡± ¡±It is true, I know where they keep the food.¡± TQ nodded, his long grey and blue body dipping and rising back up as he adjusted his coil on the park bench. ¡°Including food that will not kill you.¡± ¡±I¡­ what?¡± James felt like he was already getting whiplash from this conversation. ¡°What food would kill me? Is there camraconda food that melts human stomachs or something?¡± TQ hissed a little burst of amusement, tongue flicking over his fangs. ¡°You seem hard to kill. I do not think any food here would kill you.¡± ¡±Alanna help me.¡± James begged his larger girlfriend, trying to hide behind her. ¡°Save me from this.¡± Alanna just laughed at him. ¡±Absolutely not! Let¡¯s go grab some food. I wanna try the weird burrito you and Anesh got to sample, since I¡¯m here!¡± With a shrug and an easygoing grin, James started to follow her. TQ fell in at his side for a moment as he slithered off the bench, then pulled ahead to lead the group, leaving Cheha to scramble to catch up. The positioning of the group as they joined the movement of people going to and from Townton¡¯s new ¡®center¡¯ meant that the ratroach didn¡¯t have anyone to hide behind, so she stayed a few steps back from James, her tails whipping back and forth in anxiety as she silently lurked after them. Until James turned and caught her multitude of eyes, smiling back at her and waiting for the distant sound of someone drilling something to die down before speaking. ¡°Hey, no pressure or anything.¡± He told her in the calm voice he tended to use with the more skittish species. ¡°If you¡¯re feeling too out in the open we can move around a bit.¡± Cheha froze up slightly, but then nodded back at him and moved a little closer. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± Her quiet words were more for herself than anyone else. She¡¯d met James before, been in his home even, she just hadn¡¯t hung out with him, and TQ and Alanna were currently moving a lot faster than James¡¯ battered legs wanted to go right now, the two of them bantering about their shared D&D game. And while Cheha was interested in that, she also felt comfortable enough quietly walking at the back of the group with James. The human was familiar enough. And he seemed interested in Townton, which was a space she¡¯d been getting more familiar with too, even if it was against her will and only because TQ kept making her come outside. James enjoyed the little walk. The last time he¡¯d come this way had been with Anesh, and the city had gotten a little more lively even in just the last week and change. There were squads of chanters moving around outside of their park, even though it didn¡¯t seem like they were doing more than exploring. And they were still steering clear of the few necroads that were wandering around. Actually, everyone was; the asphalt claw creations often just moved into spots and stood there silently, but despite maybe making an effort to be non-threatening, people still didn¡¯t approach within stabbing distance. One of them waved at him as their group passed where its hovering parts were lingering near the sidewalk. James smiled as he started to raise a hand in reply, before Cheha beat him to it; the ratroach girl¡¯s bifurcated arm moving more enthusiastically than he¡¯d expected from the shy survivor. He¡¯d heard that someone had tried to skulljack with a necroad and it didn¡¯t work, and he really wanted to talk about it, but he felt like Cheha would spook if he said too much, and kept it to himself until they made it to wherever they were eating. There were a lot more people than James had figured would be here. He wasn¡¯t the person with the final say in hiring for the Order, and he didn¡¯t actually know how expansive their roster was at the moment, but the small restored segment of the city seemed like it had been filled with more life than he¡¯d remembered putting in it. There were a lot of ratroaches, many of them sitting alone or with single members of other species. Chanters of course, and the necroads that had started to slowly establish themselves as part of the landscape. But also humans both Order and the people they were trying to help, camracondas in a variety of colors and patterns who filled the same pair of roles. And as-of-yet unique life, too: the first frog dog, partially transformed most of the time into a ball of fluff; the vent spider that was slowly healing and apparently wanted to bring more of his people out here; Ruby and Prince, the pair of mimics that were currently pretending to be camracondas but badly as they escorted their human friends around; and more and more besides. ¡±This place got busy when I wasn¡¯t looking.¡± James said as he took a seat on the park bench in one of the open areas near some of the food stands with Cheha and Alanna, TQ making a vague promise to bring them ¡®something¡¯ as he slithered off. ¡°And I need everyone to know I looked at it pretty recently.¡± ¡±You¡¯re only half looking at it now.¡± Alanna pointed out with a shit eating grin on her face. James shifted, turning on the bench and staring at her with the single functioning eye he had, an unreadable expression on his own features. He raised a hand over his head, getting an involuntary burst of chittering from Cheha who was made nervous by the gesture. ¡°This is dramatic and all, but what-¡° Alanna stopped talking as a droning buzz rapidly approached, then cut off, and was followed by a thwack as a rounded frame quadcopter slapped into James¡¯ palm. Cheha, peeking over the edge of the table that she had taken cover beneath as soon as the odd noise started, clawed a single paw up to point in a shaking motion at James. ¡°D-don¡¯t!¡± She said with the firmest voice she could manage. Abruptly noticing that he¡¯d made someone panic, James flushed in embarrassment and shame. ¡°Ah, fuck, I¡¯m sorry.¡± He said, setting the drone on the rough wood of the table. ¡°Uh¡­ this was to prove a point, I wasn¡¯t trying to startle you.¡± ¡±You could have just told me to shove it.¡± Alanna pointed out, poking at the non-living quadcopter¡¯s blades, amused by the whole thing but worried about Cheha and trying to project confidence in a way that would help the other girl calm down. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have minded.¡± ¡±Frankly, I thought I did.¡± James said. ¡°But in a very funny way that let me get more skulljack practice in. Anyway, I¡¯m never getting caught off guard again, and that means more practice. Cheha, do you mind flinging my overwatch into the sky? I¡¯d ask Alanna but I think she might accidentally turn it into a satellite.¡± He smiled at the ratroach as she gently picked up the quadcopter, and then leaned back before catapulting it upward with a squeak. James flipped the motors on with his skulljack control at the top of the small arc, taking control and sending it up into the sky enough that the sound faded to inaudible. ¡°Thanks!¡± He shot her a pleased thumbs up that Cheha returned, while he spent a moment reorienting the camera, tagging himself with the program he¡¯d had grown for specifically this kind of viewpoint, and making sure no one was sneaking up on him. Aside from TQ. ¡°What are you doing and why is it strange?¡± The blue-grey camraconda asked as he added himself to the bench on Cheha¡¯s side. ¡±James is surveillancing everyone with drones.¡± Alanna said, making an exaggerated shrug. ¡°I guess?¡± I didn¡¯t know that was an option or I¡¯d be doing it too!¡± ¡±Oh. That is prudent. Maybe he will stop being ambushed.¡± TQ arched himself up. ¡°You are injured much too often. I don¡¯t like it. Stop.¡± Alanna nodded along with his words, a disapproving frown on her lips as she shook her head at James in time with TQ¡¯s comment. ¡±I¡¯m trying!¡± James braved splinters as he leaned an elbow on the table and plopped his chin onto a cupped hand. ¡°It¡¯s hard. Turns out people don¡¯t like us trying to stop them from making child soldiers or whatever.¡± Cheha curled in on herself slightly, slouching shoulders and pulling her paws back from the table. ¡°I¡­ I appreciate it.¡± She whispered. ¡±Oh, yeah, I mean¡­¡± James floundered slightly, before taking a breath. ¡°I mean there were always going to be people who benefitted from hurting others, who were going to try to fight us on it. Those are the people I have a problem with. Like your home dungeon. Or Mormons.¡± ¡±I swear you cannot just fucking say that.¡± Alanna elbowed him, getting no more reaction than a slightly shift out of her boyfriend. ¡±The Sewer knows what it did.¡± She huffed at him. ¡±No, the¡­ oh you know.¡± She shook her head, feeling the sense of sass coming off of her partner. ¡°TQ, save me from this. Tell us something going on down here to distract me from James.¡± TQ tilted his head back, tongue flicking out as he made a noise that was probably meant to be some kind of considering hum but came out as a cracked electronic squeal. ¡°We have been going on walks.¡± He said, tilting his head toward Cheha. Alanna waited only briefly, her Empathy rapidly informing her that TQ had zero intention of saying anything else. ¡°¡­And¡­?¡± ¡±And that is something going on down here. You are distracted. I have helped.¡± The camraconda seemed satisfied with himself. Cheha looked up from where she was softly picking at the edge of the table. ¡±Th-there¡¯s music every few nights.¡± She said quietly. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here today.¡± Her face tinged green as she looked back down at the wood surface, having said more than she expected to in casual conversation. ¡±Ooh, neat!¡± James eagerly latched onto the words and tried to drag her farther into socializing. ¡°Is it, like, live music? I¡¯ve actually thought for a while that we¡¯re gonna need to design instruments for nonhumans. TQ, do you think you can play drums?¡± ¡±I have been practicing beatboxing.¡± The camraconda said with so little emphasis that everyone decided to simply let that comment go for now. ¡°Also we have not brought music to life yet. It is humans making it.¡± Cheha gave James a small nod, ignoring her friend as she shifted to lean forward against the picnic table, one of her limbs swatting at a bug that was enamored with her head. ¡°S-sometimes. Tonight is¡­ uh¡­ outsiders. They stopped here by accident.¡± ¡±Hold up.¡± Alanna coughed, raising a hand as she caught on the words. James also had some questions. ¡°Yeah, wait, wat? Just¡­ outsiders? Like, a garage band stumbled in here and¡­ we¡¯re¡­ giving them a stage?¡± ¡±Correct.¡± TQ said eagerly. ¡°And I am taking Cheha to see them. They are something called filk rock. Which I am unfamiliar with. But I am not a geologist.¡± James had forgotten how much he loved conversing through TQ¡¯s particular brand of insanity. Alanna patted him on the back as he slumped forward into folded arms, asking the important question. ¡°So you two¡¯re also on a date, eh?¡± ¡±N-no!¡± Cheha protested instantly and way too suspiciously. TQ, either oblivious or having a lot of fun, gave a looping full bodied nod. ¡°Cheha is correct. We are simply two people having dinner together before going to a show together and then retiring for the night. Which is not a date, as I have studied them. But-¡° ¡±If you say you¡¯re not a¡­ what kind of fruit is a date, an arborist?¡­ I¡¯m firing you.¡± James threatened. ¡°I don¡¯t know what your job is but I can probably demote you.¡± He pointed a finger at TQ from out of where he was still laying his head, suddenly considering a nap. ¡±-dates are a tree fruit, it would be arborist. Or botanist, if I were being ambitious.¡± TQ confirmed without having to check, turning to observe his friend. ¡°Cheha you are very green, are you alright?¡± ¡±Fine!¡± The ratroach chittered, mimicking James and setting the layered chitin of her muzzle flat on the table before covering her head and antenna with folded arms. Alanna got weird feelings off both of them, and thought for just a second before she decided to plunge in with a question. ¡°So¡­ are you two dating? Like, I don¡¯t wanna tell you what your relationship is, but it kinda feels like dating? But also not. Is this a¡­ am I gonna ruin stuff by being too talky about it?¡± ¡±Talking never ruins stuff.¡± James muttered. ¡±Yes. To what James said.¡± TQ said rapidly. ¡°I do not know.¡± His voice shifted in tone, suddenly less digital and more like the semi-random natural patterns some camracondas used. ¡°I do not know a lot of things.¡± Cheha splayed her paws out over her head. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know things either!¡± She declared with the most certainty that she¡¯d used in the whole conversation. Sitting up and feeling half his bones crack as he stretched, James gave Alanna an amused smile. ¡°This is familiar.¡± He said. ¡°I like this.¡± The only thing he didn¡¯t like was that he had sat on the wrong side of her, and he had zero peripheral vision of his partner at the moment. ¡±Of course you like this, you don¡¯t have to feel a kind of infrasound made of confusion coming off them.¡± Alanna grumbled; not really upset, but also not sure if she should be bulldozing her way through their shared trepidation. ¡°This right here, though? This makes me think there¡¯s enough¡­ James what¡¯s the fucking term¡­ narrative room? Whatever, enough space that you could have an authority that feeds off of a codified relationship.¡± She held up a hand, her own authority¡¯s flickering green showing around her wrist in a solid band as Alanna rotated it and tapped the solidified infomorph. James blinked, catching on to what she was saying. ¡°What, like, whatever this that these two have is so nebulous that it highlights the difference between a poorly titled situationship and Being Married?¡± ¡°Exactly! We should test that.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t test that.¡± Said everyone at once. Including Alanna, joining in with a roll of her eyes. James laughed, suddenly feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. This was just nice. Sitting with people he liked, or people he was growing into liking, and chatting. Enjoying the warm sun and soft breeze and even the too many bugs. ¡°Well hey,¡± he said to Alanna, ¡°you wanna go see a garage band tonight with me?¡± ¡±Absolutely.¡± She agreed. ¡°But I do wanna make sure we¡¯ve got wherever we¡¯re staying set up. Oh, and actually eat first.¡± Alanna craned her neck around. ¡°Did we get food, or did we just sit here and assume?¡± ¡±I ordered food.¡± TQ said with clear pride. ¡°It will be here very soon.¡± Within a minute, a human and ratroach pair both wearing tye-dyed aprons navigated through the surrounding tables and varying species of diners to their table, bringing with them several red plastic baskets of hot food and an accompanying pile of forks and napkins. James, generally happy to try new things as long as someone else was making the decision for him, was more or less happy to see a serving of poutine placed in front of him. Alanna looked less happy, but she¡¯d probably just never had it before, and he could see her reacting to his own feeling of happiness with the upward turn of her mouth as he handed her a fork. ¡±Alright, good choice.¡± James said. TQ hissed as one of his mechanical manipulator arms unfolded to gently grip a fork that Cheha held up for him to snag. ¡°Your species has an unhealthy addiction to gravy.¡± He said. ¡±In my defense, poutine is Canadian.¡± James pointed out as he speared a cheese curd and raised the fork to point in TQ¡¯s direction. His camraconda friend hissed again as he began to eat. ¡°Oh. I have not met Canadians yet. Only humans. I look forward to learning more about your world.¡± Next to him, Cheha wrapped a paw around the end of her muzzle, shaking with silent laughter at a joke that James wasn¡¯t quite sure if he was missing the punchline for, or if he was actively inside the joke and could not escape. ¡±Talking to you is always a delight.¡± He told TQ with a smile as he started to eat his lunch. ¡±Thank you, I am very enigmatic.¡± _____ ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay?¡± Alanna asked, ignoring the Empathy that kept telling her that James was, if not okay, then at least nothing worse than increasingly exasperated. ¡°I¡¯m serious. We can just lounge around in bed all night, we don¡¯t need to go to a concert.¡± James, currently sitting on the floor at the foot of their temporary bed and pulling strands of the carpet between his fingers, rolled his head backward against the mattress to try to get a good view of his girlfriend. ¡°Of course we don¡¯t need to. But come on, how weird is it, in a cool way? And if something goes wrong, we¡¯ll be there. So I¡¯m justifying it perfectly!¡± With a noise that was probably closer to a growl than anything else, Alanna stared James down, but he didn¡¯t relent. ¡°Fine.¡± She eventually grumbled. ¡°But only cause it is weird and cool.¡± ¡±Also I¡¯m doing okay.¡± James reassured her, only partly lying. ¡°I mean¡­ I¡¯m¡­ I fucking hurt everywhere, right? Actually, can you feel physical pain through Empathy?¡± The question had clearly been bothering him, but Alanna shot down the concern pretty quick. ¡°Nah. I mostly just get the irritation that comes from it. At this point, I can feel a bit of why someone feels a certain way, so I generally know, you know? But I¡¯m not hurting cause you¡¯re hurting.¡± ¡±Good.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just lucky I don¡¯t like manufacturing existential crises for you, or I could have said I did just to motivate you to stop getting hit in the head.¡± Alanna joked. James smiled back, letting himself relax back into his seated position. ¡°Could work, honestly. I¡¯m a sap like that. But honestly I¡¯m doing okay. Sore as hell, and I¡¯m getting used to having no 3D vision, but Deb says fixing wounds is way harder with the shaper substance, so I¡¯ve gotta heal before I heal. My neck is getting stiff from tilting my head to see more normally.¡± He sighed. ¡°Mostly I¡¯m just worried about everyone else.¡± She flipped her suitcase shut as she stood up, dropping a pile of clothes for the night onto the bed. ¡±Zhu¡¯s still napping?¡± There was an undercurrent to that question too, which was ¡®is Zhu around for this trip¡¯. Alanna liked Zhu, and was fine with him hanging out all the time; usually his hanging out was basically implied because he lived in James¡¯ head almost always anyway, so that was fine. But she did kinda want to know who all was around for their vacation. And James did pick up on it. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s recovering, Mercy checked him over. Might be a week or two, might be a day, who knows. And I think we should maybe road trip to wherever the next magical hotspot is just to give him the boost. But he¡¯s¡­ not dying. I hope.¡± James closed his eye and itched around the edge of his eyepatch. ¡°We kinda figure if he was going to die, it would have happened by now. And with the new dungeons¡­ well hell, so many new opportunities for infomorph medicine!¡± ¡±Good optimism.¡± Alanna could actually feel James¡¯ hope, and it was like a shelter from a storm in his heart. ¡±Yeah. And then there¡¯s Arrush being¡­ scared, I guess. I want to be there for him, but¡­ I mean¡­ it¡­¡± It felt like Arrush didn¡¯t trust him, and Alanna winced into the shirt she was pulling off, taking advantage of James not looking at her to let herself get the grimace out of her system. ¡°Eh, it¡¯s fine. Like you said, he¡¯s nervous. He¡¯s known Keeka for years more than you, and he¡¯s healthy at least.¡± ¡±True!¡± There was the optimism again, and Alanna latched onto it as he spoke. ¡°He and Keeka are so lucky to have each other. Reminds me of you a lot, actually.¡± James turned to look at Alanna, who was now standing with widened eyes that flicked around the room as she tried not to blush. ¡±Me?¡± Was the best noise she could squeak out. He shoved himself to his feet and went over to wrap his arms around her, mindful not to stab her exposed skin with the zippers on his pants. Bulletproof didn¡¯t mean that the sensation would be comfortable after all. ¡°Yeah, you! Dumbass. You¡¯ve saved my life so many times I don¡¯t even know how to keep score anymore.¡± Alanna grabbed James in a sudden hug; not crushing him but keeping him firmly against her as she smiled over his head. ¡°Hey, I thought we weren¡¯t keeping score.¡± ¡±Good thing I forgot how!¡± James laughed against her skin. ¡°Anyway, hot as you are, wanna get dressed and we can go wander our city for a while?¡± ¡±Our city.¡± Alanna laughed as she pulled on the Hawaiian shirt she¡¯d stolen from James and refused to give back, letting it sit open and unbuttoned as she traded her Response pants for a pair of casual shorts. ¡°We should conquer more cities!¡± ¡±Alright calm down there Genghis Khan. Don¡¯t make me tell your girlfriend you¡¯re planning world domination. She¡¯ll listen to me, too, I know it!¡± James suppressed a groan as he bent down to go through his own luggage and find some socks. ¡°Where are my socks?¡± ¡±I packed you socks!¡± ¡±These are not my socks. These all have¡­ are these camracondas? Wait where did these come from? Who made these?¡± Alanna beamed at his amused confusion. ¡°Some kinda green orb testing thing at the Lair, and I got some, and now you have them!¡± She dropped onto the bed and watched happily as James covered up a dopey smile. ¡°Also Sarah would totally let me take over a city. She loves me too much to stand in the way of my dreams.¡± ¡±Alanna I love you too much to stand in the way of your dreams, but I will still absolutely stop you from taking over Portland, because¡­ uh¡­¡± James struggled to pull the socks on, trying to use the motion to buy time to think of a good reason. ¡°Because it is¡­ badly laid out. Yeah, let¡¯s go with that.¡± ¡±Half the city is a grid.¡± ¡±And the other half isn¡¯t! Terrible planning. Conquer a different city.¡± Alanna barked out a laugh. ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯ll take that under advisement, since you¡¯d obviously be my shadowy vizier operating behind the throne.¡± ¡±Do I get any say in my position? What if I wanna be a concubine?¡± ¡±You can be that too! Polyamory is great for flexible title definitions like that.¡± James finished getting his socks on and tried to fix one of the loves of his life with a level and unamused stare. It lasted about three seconds before he broke into a smile that he couldn¡¯t contain. ¡°I¡¯m not helping you take over Portland, I¡¯ve got stuff to do. But you can help me with the next thing!¡± Alanna tugged her stolen shirt closed, still not really bothering to button it. ¡°Ahh, it¡¯s a downgrade from West Coast Warlord, but I¡¯ll take it. What is the next thing?¡± ¡±Taking a walk around, enjoying the sunset, and lingering on the fringes of a random encounter concert!¡± James threw his arm around her back as the two of them shared a quick kiss. ¡°Also one meeting.¡± ¡±¡­vacation.¡± Alanna glared at him, their noses separated by about two inches of air. ¡±It¡¯s a good meeting! You¡¯ll like it!¡± James defended himself. ¡°Now let¡¯s go see what our people have made of the place!¡± He declared, pulling open their temporary apartment door and revealing the solid wall of doors from all the different living spaces that had been compressed into this building. For a place that only had a few hundred people in it, Townton had lively nights. And when they were outside in the warm air, the smell of vegetation all around them, it was really easy for Alanna to feel the beat of the regrowing city. Mostly because of the chanters. Three hundred of them, over half the total permanent population of Townton at this point. The buglike rescues were powerful empaths, especially in groups. For most people, this meant that Townton had a background mood to it; a mood that had been slowly but steadily getting better as the chanters gradually came to understand and trust the Order more and more. For Alanna, it meant that being in the area could be overwhelming really fast. But tonight, it just felt vibrantly alive. Maybe leveling up her Empathy had just given her more control. Or maybe it was because the chanters were sending out a kind of shared cautious excitement that was definitely infectious. They weren¡¯t the only ones either, though the vibes of the other species out for the evening were definitely less broadcast. Most people who did work during the day were packing up and taking time to relax; the Order¡¯s version of a standard workday being far shorter than most places not stopping some people who had specific projects from putting in extra hours. There was a delver team coming back through the perimeter of the occupied area, their armored and augmented vehicles rolling past two streets down as they made their way toward a garage, some pedestrians waving to them as they went by. And all over the place people moved in small groups as they went to meet friends, get food, or make their way toward some kind of event happening that night. Both Alanna and James were aware that probably half the humans down here were people who worked what they called ¡®lifetime shifts¡¯ with Recovery. A little bit like foster families, a little bit like always-on-call therapists, a little bit like just supportive community members who were always there for the people around them. They¡¯d hired, trained, and moved about twenty of them in at first when the Order had started using Townton as a place to give rescued ratroaches a place to learn how to live with other people peacefully, and then upped that number to close to a hundred over time. In a way it was a problem; this was a big cost on the Order¡¯s budget sheet. But it was also something that was needed. And as the ranks of long term support Recovery agents was boosted with ratroaches and camracondas who wanted to give back their own form of the help they¡¯d received, it didn¡¯t just feel needed, it felt¡­ correct. Right, in a way that both Alanna and James would be willing to fight to preserve. Seeing a ratroach cover a laugh for what might be the first time in its life, or catching a glimpse of a camraconda staring up at the colors of the sunset, or seeing a human survivor sitting on a bench and finally being able to feel safe; the little moments that everyone had - should have - played out across people who hadn¡¯t gotten to experience them in their short lives. The dungeons gave them access to phenomenal power, but both of them knew it came with the same responsibility to use it. And there were people across the world and all its little pockets who deserved better. And here, in the restoration zone of a city that had been nearly wiped out because of a confluence of dungeon bullshit and petty human bullshit, they gave people something better. Sure, some of the buildings looked a little weird compared to what James was used to, but he knew that was because a lot of the structures had been put back together and smoothed out using blue orbs; it caused that distinct rounded edge look that was a lot more organic than most modern structures. And obviously there were setbacks in putting small bits of dungeontech into common use; he¡¯d heard that they¡¯d needed to hustle to get better protection for the magic lamps they were using as streetlights after the first time a moth the size of a softball had slammed into one, broken it, and flown off with the blue orb in tow. And yeah, not everyone got along. Not everyone was a perfect person with pure emotions. Especially on the human side, a lot of the people here were bringing decades of baggage and trauma to the party in a way that couldn¡¯t be undone overnight, no matter how good the therapy was. But when you didn¡¯t need to worry about food or rent, a lot of stress went away. When you didn¡¯t need to worry about being murdered for fun or profit, you could start healing for real. James talked about this a lot as he walked with Alanna, taking a loop of the multiple stretched suburban city blocks that made up the western perimeter. His enthusiasm, upgrades to his Energy, and some pretty effective painkillers, all working at making him feel chatty as Alanna walked at his side with an easy grin and a careful eye out for any problems. ¡°See, the parking lots were a big issue.¡± James was saying. ¡°Because we barely use cars anymore. So-¡° ¡±Yeah hey, that¡¯s weird right?¡± Alanna asked suddenly as they skirted one of those asphalt deserts that James was talking about. ¡°How do we move heavy shit?¡± ¡±Kei trucks mostly.¡± James answered, pointing out a few in the lot. ¡°There were a few here already, but we got more. They¡¯re more compact than the bigger box trucks, but we use those too for getting stuff to distribution spots. The thing is that we get to benefit from two different perks. Magically, we¡¯re a lot more compressed, so pedestrianing can get you to more places. But on the mundane side, there¡¯s basically no cost to moving or swapping jobs, so we can streamline population organizing so that people don¡¯t need to drive as much. But I still think we should put trains around somewhere when we get to that point.¡± ¡±Why?¡± ¡±I like trains. Anyway. Parking lots!¡± James leaned into it as his girlfriend ruffled his hair, going back to pointing out the open space. ¡°The important thing¡­ an important thing is, all our buildings here are actually making use of the foundations that were mostly undamaged. So we don¡¯t want to just build new stuff over a parking lot; that would actually take a ton of effort, and it¡¯s not super valuable because we aren¡¯t hurting for space to expand into and restore. But, they¡¯re still there. So wherever they are inside our perimeter, we sorta encourage people to use them. Community gardens, eating and gathering spots, that kind of thing.¡± Alanna nodded, sweeping her eyes and Empathy across the external fence and the gap in the asphalt that worked as a firebreak between the safe spot and the thousands of necroads outside that were often still hostile. There were a pair of sentries on watch, casually keeping an eye out, but not burning themselves out on high alert. ¡°Or live music?¡± ¡±Exactly!¡± They took a turn and headed down a path past a stacked pile of chain link fence. The building they were circling used to be a police station, and the Order had used it as a forward base for a while here. Now, it was just the Recovery office for Townton, that expansive back lot used for storing restored vehicles until they got shipped out. The place was modern, and had been clean and professional before the incident, and now it was again even if it did fill a different purpose. Sandwiched between a strip mall and a main road, it was in an odd spot that left it almost stranded on the far side of the area they were working on; nothing else that was quite worth putting back together past it yet except for a sea of roads and more fully demolished structures. There weren¡¯t as many people here, but the crowd picked back up quickly as they finished the outer part of their walk and headed back to where there were more lights in the dimming twilight. Night was coming on fast, but the part of Townton the Order had taken back didn¡¯t get plunged into inky darkness anymore. Electrical infrastructure helped out by dungeontech keeping the lights on for everyone. James pushed away from Alanna and stepped into the street as they got closer to a crowd of people around one of the parking lots turned pavilion, the two of them dodging an actual child of a ratroach that was chittering high pitched laughter as he sprinted away from the human caretaker trying to catch him. ¡°Wait, what?¡± Alanna asked, snapping her head over to James to look for information. ¡±What? Imu? Or¡­ his brother? I can¡¯t tell them apart.¡± ¡±Yeah, what the hell is that? James that was a kid.¡± Alanna didn¡¯t know how to feel about that. James stepped back over to the curb and butted his shoulder into her flank, now even shorter than her as he kept up their slow walking pace but now on a lower elevation. ¡°I guess you¡¯ve been busy with Response. Imu and¡­ Iru, that¡¯s it! They were found in the Sewer almost immediately after being born.¡± Alanna¡¯s good mood slipped, the smile on her face sinking into a frown as she puffed her cheeks and exhaled. ¡°As in¡­¡± ¡±Yeah. Their mother didn¡¯t make it.¡± James didn¡¯t know if he¡¯d ever be able to say something like that with complete detachment. Ratroach ¡®mothers¡¯ would, without intervention, never make it. The dungeon made them that way. ¡°But they did. And it turns out, for the ratroaches that aren¡¯t just spawned, the dungeon takes a little time to shove information into them and force grow them up to size.¡± ¡±So¡­ they¡¯re actually kids?¡± Alanna asked, looking back over her shoulder toward where Imu had charged headfirst at a tree, then clawed his way up it with expert poise, leaving his caretaker panting in exhaustion to lean against the trunk as he claimed victory. ¡°Okay. Good.¡± James wasn¡¯t sure how to take that. ¡±Good?¡± ¡±Good.¡± Alanna nodded once, her smile coming back a little harder but no less real. ¡°Good, because can you imagine how cool it must be to grow up here? They¡¯re gonna get such good Christmas gifts, buddy, you have no idea.¡± Her boyfriend gave her a blank one-eyed stare for a moment, before her own optimism swept him up and he smiled along with her. In truth, Alanna felt like in a town full of people who had survived sad stories, the two kids might have good odds of winning the contest to have bragging rights for the saddest. But that was what had happened. And as personal title holder for ¡®saddest story in this friend group¡¯ for a while, Alanna liked to think that ¡®was¡¯ was something you could fix. ¡°You know, you¡¯re probably right? Especially since they¡¯ve effectively got, like, five parents.¡± James laughed. Alanna almost reflexively elbowed him, but stopped before the change in relative height had her taking out his other eye. ¡°Okay, I gotta know. How the hell do you know everything about this place?¡± ¡±Oh! I keep a close eye on it!¡± James winked at her, and then didn¡¯t give Alanna time to be irked that he was already making light of his injury. ¡°This is¡­ I mean, a lot of the policies and practices here are stuff that I was part of putting into place, you know? I put a lot of effort into figuring out how to make our shared labor program work. And I care about a lot of the people here!¡± James spread his arms and spun slightly, getting a few looks and grins from the people walking or sitting near them. ¡°Chanters deserve our best. Same for the other victims. And the necroads are weird and cool so I keep up on any research about them. I dunno, what do you read in your downtime?¡± Alanna flicked fingers through her hair, pushing it back off her forehead. ¡±Clearly not the same reports you do! This is what Sarah was talking about, huh?¡± She admitted with a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be totally unsurprised now when you tell me you already know the name of the band that we trapped here for your next trick.¡± ¡±First of all, we didn¡¯t trap them here.¡± James reminded her. ¡°Second, I don¡¯t know yet, because I want to be surprised. And the next thing I tell you is a much more fun surprise for you.¡± He stepped lightly up onto the sidewalk, talking one of her hands in his own as they approached the set aside space with its own secure perimeter of rope lights and heavy sheet metal plater boxes full of dirt and ferns. ¡°Close your eyes for a sec?¡± ¡±¡­you know normally people who say that have an extra eye to spare to help out¡­¡± Alanna saw James looking up at her, and realized he wasn¡¯t kidding about making some kind of sappy romantic gesture. ¡°Alright, alright! Fine! Eyes closed, what now?¡± ¡±Now follow me for a sec, and I¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t run through any of the tables on the way to the one important meeting we have today.¡± James favored her with the greatest gift of all; not breaking furniture with her shins, holding her hands as he slowly walked backward and guided her through the group of people. It was weird for her, because Alanna¡¯s Empathy was strong enough now that she could still sort of feel the people around her, especially when they noticed her specifically. Curiosity, a little anticipation, a steady stream of confusion that she assumed was from the garage band that had been pseudo-kidnapped. And then one source of bouncing joyous excitement, aimed directly at her. ¡±Hey, can I open my eyes, or do I have to wait until whoever that is dive tackles me?¡± Alanna asked, only half joking. ¡±Yeah, go for it.¡± James said, stepping behind her and setting a hand on her back. Alanna was almost rolling her eyes as she opened them, but if she did, she would have regretted it. Once the world came back into view, there was on single thing in front of her that was more important than any of her normal defensive sarcasm. More important than the garden party atmosphere, more important than the mismatched tables and wrought iron chairs holding a growing crowd around them, more important than the band setting up their equipment and trying not to stare at the nonhumans too much. There was a young girl standing by the table in front of Alanna. Very young, by human standards, even if she might actually be the oldest member of her species ever. A tightly packed quadruped with arched claws of keratin; rings of black feathers gave cover to a triangular chitinous body and highlights to the shimmering blue color of the chitin itself. Arms with a secondary wing membrane and their own feathered covering, but separate from where they had once been contained as an elytra, the girl¡¯s face still bore the thick red line of a scar across her beak and one eye, but that was an obvious and deliberate choice to keep, especially since both features had been reworked to better-than-original functionality. Alanna stared for a second. And then maybe a few more. Long enough that the feeling of excitement started to get poisoned by anxiety. ¡°Banana?¡± She asked with growing realization, and the shaper substance reforged crow wasp nodded back at her briskly. If nothing else, the vest the girl was wearing with a big circular shark pin on it should have been a giveaway. As she figured out what she was looking at, exactly, Alanna¡¯s grin came back in full force, and she threw her arms open. ¡°Banana!¡± She exclaimed, hearing laughs from a few people around them that probably didn¡¯t know that was the crow girl¡¯s name. ¡±Alanna!¡± Banana yelled back in a matching tone, exploding into motion as she flung herself forward with a rustle of fabric and the slap of her sandals on the pavement, slamming into Alanna at full speed but causing no damage; the brick wall of a human absorbing the impact and returning the high velocity hug. Alanna started laughing, feeling herself close to crying, as Banana¡¯s back split open and a pair of folded glittering black wings also wrapped around her, adding to the embrace. ¡°Look! Look! I¡¯m better! I did it!¡± ¡±You sure did.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice shook as she tried to figure out exactly how much she could squeeze the girl without hurting her, and discovered to her surprise that it was probably a lot. Banana¡¯s new body was durable. Like, armored vehicle durable, if Alanna was getting the feeling of pressure right. ¡°You sure did! Look at you!¡± She stepped back, one hand spinning Banana around to the delight of the healed crow wasp. ¡°Look at you. Knew you¡¯d be fine.¡± She said. ¡°When did they let you out? Why didn¡¯t anyone tell me?¡± ¡±About six hours ago.¡± James said from behind her, Alanna glancing back at her partner¡¯s quiet voice and self-satisfied look. ¡°And because I wanted to surprise you.¡± ¡±I¡¯m surprising!¡± Banana declared. ¡°I can talk! Listen!¡± She declared, and then stood there, staring upward before ducking her beak down to focus intently on the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say!¡± Banana bemoaned.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Well hey,¡± James said, sliding around Alanna and ruffling Banana¡¯s head feathers to the beaming delight of the girl. ¡°We were gonna hang out for a little while and listen to some music. Wanna join us?¡± He asked, already knowing the answer as Banana was in the process of giving an energetic and painless nod. ¡°Alright! I¡¯m just gonna check in with Mercy really quick for ya, and then grab something from the snack place. Alanna, you want a drink?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t really drink much anymore, you know that.¡± Alanna idly said, still half-hugging Banana. ¡°Oh wait you meant like water. Yeah, that¡¯d be nice!¡± James was still laughing to himself on the inside by the time he got back with their drinks, and they had a little time before the show got started to chat with Banana about how she was doing. Alanna wanted to know everything about her changes, and Banana wanted to talk almost exclusively about a variety of beetle facts she had learned over the last two days in recovery quarantine. After a little bit, there was music from the people who had stumbled into Townton, and conversation got paused except for during some of the quieter instrumental interludes they had. The band ended up being called And Then The Mind Wolves, which James felt sounded like a particularly dense in-joke. They were, in his opinion, pretty okay, and after their improvised concert, he bought a CD and teeshirt from them, while he got to take part in his third favorite hobby of answering questions from people who were trying to figure out if camracondas were real or if they were somehow in the same shared lucid dream. Seeing Banana off back to the Lair was a little bittersweet, but it was so obvious that she was doing not just better, but good, that it was hard to feel anything except satisfaction. And ending up on the familiar roof of an abandoned bank a quarter mile away making out with his absurdly cute girlfriend was a high mark for James as well. It was, in his opinion, quite the perfect evening. _____ James woke up partly inside Alanna. Which was to say, Alanna was currently gnawing on his arm in her sleep. ¡°Mmh ham fismmms¡­¡± Alanna uttered in her sleep, still halfheartedly trying to bite through James¡¯ forearm. He came around slowly, reflexively rubbing the sleep from his eyes before the sensitive stitches around his injury reminded him that he was doing double the work required. Sleepily watching his girlfriend, James opted to just lay there with a soft feeling in his heart, glad that he¡¯d ended up here with this person, and also glad that his skin¡¯s tensile strength was improved through arcane orb-based means to resist any attempt to eat him. Though really, this was probably the least damage Alanna could cause in her sleep. Her fingernails were sharp enough to slice someone open if she wasn¡¯t careful, and she did flail sometimes. James was well aware that Alanna, like him, lived with the memories and nightmares of battles and beatings they¡¯d both survived. Right now though, he was just happy to be waking up next to one of the people he loved. Getting some time with Alanna, especially after everything he¡¯d been through this week, was just pleasant. Even if the room was already way too hot to sleep in, and the calls of small birds that sounded like much larger birds were already waking Alanna up too. Not that he was completely free of worries. James took a moment with his free hand to reach for his phone, trying to let Alanna stay asleep a little longer. Once he had the device, wishing that sleeping with his skulljack braid in was comfortable so this would be easier, James checked for any updates from Keeka and Anesh. There was a quick and awkwardly written text from Keeka letting him know that Arrush was doing okay but still wanted to be alone, and a much longer essay from Anesh saying that Keeka was healing, and spending the day with Arrush. So that was good at least. A more clinical reading of the roster got him updates on the other knights who¡¯d been hurt, but since the worst damage really was to himself and Arrush, he basically knew the others were okay. Even Momo, who had finally conceded to getting glowered at by Deb for a while. Zhu was okay too. James tried to give him a mental nudge, but the sleeping navigator was buried deep in his thoughts at the moment, and while there was a fading memory of a dream, and the sensation of climbing something, he didn¡¯t know if he¡¯d talked to his friend. But he was still there, and resting peacefully. ¡°You¡¯ve been awake for sixteen seconds and you¡¯re already doing anxiety shit again.¡± Alanna¡¯s muffled voice came paired with the removal of teeth from his skin. ¡°Also you taste like soap.¡± ¡±Thank you!¡± James said, stealing a maneuver from TQ. ¡°It¡¯s rosemary, I figured I¡¯d make myself taste like a chicken dinner.¡± ¡±Surprised you didn¡¯t fill yourself with the magic beans and go for that flavor profile.¡± Alanna shifted, the blanke spilling off her shoulders as she propped herself up on her arms and stared at the pillow like she was considering falling back into it. ¡°Seems more your¡­ thing¡­ these days.¡± She failed to hold back a yawn, and then gave up, collapsing face first back into the bed. James rolled over to throw his arm across her back. ¡°Not a chance.¡± He followed suit on the yawn. ¡°Those things are dangerous.¡± ¡°Ecological disaster!¡± He heard Alanna cheerfully mutter into the pillow. Laughing as he pressed against his partner, James gave her a firm hug. ¡°Not really. They adapt, though!¡± Alanna refused to leave her new pillow cave. ¡±¡¯dapt to concrete!¡± ¡±Yes, sure, and then there¡¯s a strain of beans that requires concrete to grow. It¡¯s mostly safe. Safer. Safeish. God damn we¡¯re cavalier with things that could destroy the planet, huh?¡± James rolled onto his back and distantly stared at the ceiling fan. ¡°Forget saving humanity, we¡¯re gonna accidentally blow up Australia some day aren¡¯t we?¡± ¡°Not you.¡± Alanna rolled to flop on top of James, curled up so that she could pretend she was the small one for a minute. ¡°You talk about being reckless, and I see it sometimes, but you care too much to let us sink a continent.¡± She smiled into his chest as she tried to adjust to using a squishy human as a pillow. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t even shoot at a literal cult.¡± James¡¯ smile got a little strained. But he took a few seconds to breathe, and remember that Alanna wasn¡¯t trying to provoke or belittle him. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying since the start, you know?¡± ¡±To be your weird blend of pacifist? Yeah, I actually figured that out when Rufus¡­ uh¡­ existed.¡± ¡±I didn¡¯t kill anyone this time.¡± James said in a low voice to Alanna, words accentuated by the birdsong from outside the window. ¡°I¡¯m tired of it. I¡¯m tired of violence at all, especially when it¡¯s used by assholes to force their authoritarian bullshit on people. But if I need to fight, if it¡¯s the only way to protect people¡­ I¡¯m gonna do my best to not kill anyone. And I did it. Bleeding and hurting and weaker than I ever should have let myself get, and I did it my way. And I¡¯m so fucking¡­ not even proud, really¡­ I¡¯m just¡­ I¡¯m doing things the way I knew worked. I¡¯m proof of concept. No one gets to condescend to me anymore about what¡¯s necessary, you know? Because I¡¯m a fucking idiot, and if I can do better, they can do better.¡± Alanna let him ramble for a bit, and then let the words hang in the air before replying. ¡±You¡¯re not.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡±An idiot. You¡¯re not.¡± She shifted, looking down his form and away from his eyes. ¡°Just kind of a dumbass sometimes. But you¡¯re not an idiot. I wouldn¡¯t love you so much if you were.¡± He didn¡¯t know what to say to that. But it felt reassuring to hear the compliment, so James just cuddled with her until they both started to overheat. Deciding that the place needed air conditioning, probably in the environmentally friendly form of ¡®literal magic¡¯, they eventually got out of bed and let the day start. While Alanna showered, James sat on the floor with his back to the door, looking up the local happenings and relaying them to her. ¡°There¡¯s a delve today we could go on!¡± He offered. ¡±In the Route? No, you dork!¡± She¡¯d sounded excited for a second before remembering she was technically supposed to keep James on vacation, and no matter what he claimed, delves didn¡¯t count. James relented with a laugh; he wasn¡¯t that serious about it anyway. ¡°Alright alright. Uh¡­ they really are clearing out a natural history museum, if we want to help with that?¡± ¡±That also sounds like work. But also cool. Do they have dinosaur skeletons?¡± ¡±They have dinosaur skeletons.¡± ¡±Put it on the short list. What else?¡± James thumped his head back on the hollow wood of the bathroom door. ¡±I mean, I know I wanna check in with the chanter communication team. We can do that first, maybe? Oh! Don¡¯t forget to vote on the crown!¡± There was a wet slap from inside the shower, like a certain someone was ramming her forehead into her palm. ¡°Buddy, you can¡¯t just say stuff like that. What does that mean?!¡± ¡±The¡­ fancy leveler crown.¡± James stopped himself from saying ¡®Status Quo crown¡¯ this time; he was getting more used to using the Order¡¯s chosen language. ¡°Okay, you know how it¡¯s too big to copy?¡± ¡±Yeah, and no one liked my idea to resize it for someone with an exceptionally narrow head!¡± That got a small laugh out of him. ¡±Everyone liked that idea, the crown didn¡¯t like the idea.¡± He reminded her. ¡°Anyway, we only have the one, and imbuing stuff with blue orbs can go wrong. So there¡¯s a direct vote on if we should try.¡± ¡±What¡¯re you voting?¡± ¡±The ballots are secret!¡± James gave a mock gasp. Alanna pulled the shower curtain back so she could stare at him, about a quarter of the low pressure stream of water that was hitting her now splashing onto James in a fine mist. ¡°What¡¯re you voting?¡± She repeated. ¡±Yes, and stop getting me wet!¡± ¡±Weird vote but I respect it.¡± Alanna closed the curtain again and went back to trying to scour herself of soap. ¡°I¡¯ll probably say yes too?¡± ¡±Yeah, I just don¡¯t think the crown is¡­ I mean, it¡¯s so cool. I love it, really do. The growing list of effects from its singular ability is hilarious. But it¡¯s¡­ what, six uses a day? We can¡¯t build a strategy around that. We can barely test it. Worst case scenario we lose a curiosity. Best case, maybe its bonus power lets it recharge faster.¡± James shrugged, and regretted it as the old wood of the bathroom door threatened to leave him full of splinters. ¡°Anyway. I dunno. Wanna go walk around and see what the city is up to for a while?¡± ¡±Want me to get dressed first?¡± Alanna asked as she stepped out of the shower and helped James up so he could take his turn under the water. He was beaming as he kissed her in passing. ¡±Not really!¡± _____ They had three buildings in Townton that were orange totem sites now. All of them were apartments. Or living spaces, rather; one was more like a communal house that had gotten delusions of grandeur. But without the delusions. The main thing that had stopped them originally was the fact that orange totems, powerful as they were, required stability. You couldn¡¯t modify the area outside of their own parameters without twisting how space was warped, and that was, to quote Reed, a recipe for losing more internal organs. And unfortunately, ¡®the area¡¯ didn¡¯t just include what the totem was focused on, but the space around that zone as well. How space related to itself seemed to include material composition and positioning. In a way, the totem was composed of a whole chunk of the world, and not just the material used for it specifically. So if, for example, you were thinking of setting one up in the ruins of a mid sized moderately suburban American city, you would have to first be certain that you weren¡¯t going to be adding or removing whole structures within a few blocks. Because doing so could cause people to suddenly find themselves without doors, windows, or any connection to the rest of the material reality they lived in. Since the restoration zone had expanded though, the option was on the table. And the first few structures where it was in use here were where a majority of the Townton population resided. One of the apartments wasn¡¯t even the original structure, and was actually a replicated room that had been custom built by Bill¡¯s team to accommodate the growing number of species specific needs around here. The other, where James and Alanna were staying, was a restored building that had been stretched on the inside and had its staircases conveniently cursed. It was nice. It gave them a lot of extra space that was ready to go for if they needed to bring more people in. And people did show up pretty regularly. New hires for the restoration, knights in training, rescues human and otherwise, there was a steady stream of new people arriving that needed places to live. To the point that there was a portion of the administration for Townton that was specifically focused on the distribution and upkeep of housing. They were, James decided after checking out the other totem apartment that the residents seemed to love bragging about, doing a great job. The green orb boosts helped too. Not just here, but everywhere. Though sadly the diminishing returns meant that water pressure in the city wasn¡¯t very good even with magic. There were still a few hundred different small effects that just continually made things a little nicer. Food kept longer, everyone slept better, there was no shortage of secret closets and couches, and the fact that an amount of trash self-deleted every day made keeping the place clean a lot easier. That last one was part of a specific cultural target that Townton¡¯s citizenry had. The objective was to keep trash generation below trash annihilation. Because if they did that, then there was essentially a ¡®budget¡¯ for extra junk that could be purified from the surrounding area. It was slow, far too slow to be the only method for a reasonable timeline, but it was still something that helped with cleanup. It was after James was checking in and - to Alanna¡¯s narrow eyed aggravation - spending an hour doing manual labor at the backup potion sap growing site, that they were ambushed. ¡±I¡¯m just saying.¡± Alanna was telling him as they left the patched up brick structure. ¡°You don¡¯t have to work. In fact, stop working! You-¡° She was cut off by a small chitinous projectile impacting her knees, with a second one hitting James from the side at roughly the same time. Alanna was unmoved by the impact, but she stepped quickly and carefully to grab James before he toppled over with a yelp. Steadied by his girlfriend¡¯s prodigious upper body strength, James bit back the adrenaline and looked down at the three foot tall ratroach gazing up at him with insectile eyes and a panting smile. ¡°Hey kiddo.¡± James said, smiling back and not willing to risk getting one of the twin ratroaches names wrong. ¡°How¡¯s-¡° ¡±C-Cam says you¡¯re a hero!¡± Iru declared. His brother, recovering from a devastating meeting with Alanna¡¯s immovable frame, nodded in agreement from the ground as Alanna offered him a hand up. ¡°Can you pick us up too?¡± He demanded. James was forced to admit that he could not, in fact, manage that today. ¡°But,¡± he added, ¡°Alanna¡¯s secretly more heroic than me.¡± James knelt down to lean in and whisper to the duo. ¡°Just don¡¯t tell anyone. But if you ask nicely she could probably juggle you.¡± ¡±Now hang on¡­¡± Alanna got about two seconds into protesting before she was besieged by requests to be thrown into the air. She didn¡¯t oblige those, but she did hoist both small ratroaches up to her shoulders where she let them ride, bifurcated tails whipping along her back, as she walked with James down the street and tried to hide how happy she was for some reason she didn¡¯t quite know. A half block later on their approach to the park, they ran into Dorothy, the older human taking the term less literally than Imu and Iru had. ¡°You two imps.¡± She placed her hands on her hips as she stared up at where the twins were trying to look away from her stern gaze. ¡°Far too fast for my bones to keep up with. Are they bothering you?¡± She asked Alanna. ¡±Psh. This is great, I¡¯m getting my workout in.¡± Alanna said, rolling forward and gently catching both kids before setting them back on the ground. ¡°But I do need to let ya go. Be nice to Dorothy!¡± She ordered the two. ¡°And maybe we can work on catapulting you next time.¡± Dorothy shook her head as the pair bolted away, keeping in sight but off on their own game with hardly a word. ¡°Those two. They¡¯re the quietest kids I¡¯ve ever seen with that much energy.¡± She sighed. ¡°And here I am, an improvised grandmother. Never expected that, now did I? I blame you.¡± She told James. ¡±Well yeah.¡± James said, for once not finding the comment that humorous, and instead going for a kind of blunt honesty. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ mostly my fault, yeah.¡± The aged human eyed him, her smile losing some of its shine. ¡°You made us into better people, you know.¡± She told him as Alanna got baited into a game of tag with the ratroaches. ¡°And I don¡¯t even really know how you did it. But some days¡­ I wake up and I don¡¯t recognize myself.¡± James sighed. ¡°It was irritatingly simple.¡± He said, standing at her side and watching his partner play with Dorothy¡¯s charges. ¡°You know what I did, really?¡± She shook her head, waiting for the answer. ¡°I took away your problems.¡± ¡±Beg your pardon?¡± She looked like she was about to start telling him about the problems she still had. ¡±The big ones.¡± James waved a hand in the air. ¡°You all had some of them solved already - you were rich and powerful - but you were missing part of it. I took away¡­ your needs.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure how to express this to Dorothy, but then realized that if she¡¯d been living in Townton and did feel like she was a better person, maybe she already got it. ¡°No one here cares about your bank account, or your house. No one cares if you¡¯re useful. Right?¡± ¡±Well, being useful is pleasant, and I think you know it.¡± She shot back. On that, James would agree, and he nodded pleasantly. ¡°Oh, I do! But what I¡¯m saying is¡­ the pressure that led you down the path you took? That¡¯s what we got rid of. I don¡¯t think you ever woke up and decided to be evil. But I do think you made a lot of small steps that seemed like they made sense. And here, now, I hope you¡¯d see that you just wouldn¡¯t need to.¡± Dorothy stared after where Imu was currently rolling under a park bench in a maneuver that only a child of any species would ever think to perform, coming up with twigs and leaves in his clothing and fur as he succeeded at dodging his brother and Alanna while they tried to catch him in the warming morning air. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. ¡°I¡¯m glad you won.¡± Dorothy said. ¡°Change whatever you want. Take away what you need to.¡± ¡±You do deserve it.¡± James said, replying to a statement that hadn¡¯t been made, but that he¡¯d heard in her voice anyway. ¡±I really don¡¯t.¡± Dorothy started to walk away from him and toward where the kids she was watching today were chittering with laughter. ¡°But I understand you wouldn¡¯t be you if you didn¡¯t think so. Imu! Iru! Come on now, let¡¯s get breakfast!¡± The duo looked up at Alanna, before giving her legs headbutts in unison and then sprinting off to circle Dorothy as she walked them back down the street the way James and Alanna had come from, the woman waving back over her shoulder at them. ¡°Fun kids.¡± Alanna commented as she fell in next to James, entirely unruffled by the physical exertion. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡±I dunno.¡± James said, rubbing the back of his hand over his good eye. ¡°I¡­ think so?¡± ¡±Cool. Now let¡¯s go learn how things are going horribly and the chanters are secretly plotting to eat us all!¡± Alanna declared, clapping James on the back hard enough to make the various stitches in his body rattle. He didn¡¯t bother protesting on that front. Mostly because he felt like, with the way his life had been going, if he did say that wasn¡¯t the case, the next words he heard from another person would be ¡®James, it turns out, the chanters are ironically evil¡¯. So he kept his disbelief to himself. Instead, he just followed the sidewalk around the park, giving friendly nods or greetings to the people who were working in the flourishing green space to harvest the local produce. None of it was magic beans, much to James¡¯ relief; they kept those separate and contained after the various incidents. But the presence of the chanters meant that stuff here grew unnaturally fast, and there was a meaningful portion of Townton¡¯s food that was actually local. James and Alanna paused at a street corner for a minute to watch a modified and heavily armored moving truck roll away from where it had been parked. The presence of people on the roof and the fact that it points for weapon mounts once it was out of the city made it clear that this was something specifically geared for delving Route Horizon. The city wasn¡¯t so flattened that they could trace its route, but James could see it as it rolled up to the perimeter gate where it idled along with a more ordinary appearing car, waiting for the rest of the day¡¯s delve to assemble. He waved at them, and got a mechanical arm waving back from one of the camracondas on the roof that spotted him. After that distraction, it was pretty easy to find their way over to the gathering tent that was positioned just on the other side of the open street from the park. Though it was pretty clear that the chanters frequented this specific path, along with a few others that led to many of the setup places where they could get food and water and medical help. The sign was in the street itself; grasses and weeds piercing the asphalt and seeking the heavens, a complete defiance of the human desire for a flat and colorless world in plant form. Growth trailed where the chanters walked, reinforced by a thousand trips. James knocked on the pole of the thick canvas tent, even though the flap was open. ¡°Hey, you busy?¡± He asked the woman inside who was in fact busy rearranging some of the seating and setting up a film projector. ¡±Yes.¡± Indira replied, but turned her wheelchair to face them anyway. She wasn¡¯t wearing the silicone mermaid tail that James had always seen her in this morning, and the absence of the costume piece made her look shockingly alien to him. ¡°But I suppose I can¡¯t stop you walking in and bothering me.¡± ¡±Sure you could, just guilt the shit out of him.¡± Alanna said, elbowing James as she walked into the tent and took in the simple setup. ¡±It¡¯s true, I¡¯m a sucker for that.¡± James agreed. ¡°Hey.¡± Indira sighed. ¡±Hey yourself.¡± She replied. ¡°Is there a new disaster you¡¯re planning on adding to the pile?¡± She raised an eyebrow expertly, but let it drop as she saw the look of confusion on James¡¯ face. ¡°I assumed. I do keep up on things going on elsewhere with the Order, you know. Just because we¡¯re physically isolated doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re out of touch.¡± ¡±I¡­ don¡¯t think so?¡± James wasn¡¯t sure anymore. ¡°We might have another friendly species, but they speak English?¡± He offered with a shrug. She gave a sigh like a gunshot. ¡°Acceptable enough. Well. Why are you here then?¡± ¡±Oh! I really did just want to see how things were going!¡± James relaxed a bit. ¡°No disasters from me, I promise!¡± He almost reflexively held out a finger to press to Alanna¡¯s lips, just before she said something. ¡°Nooooo disasters!¡± ¡±How incredibly not reassuring.¡± Indira said dryly, leaning forward in her chair and propping her elbows on her thighs. The motion drew James¡¯ eye, and he tried not to hiss at the mess of scars that peeked out from under her shorts. ¡°Well. Yes. I suppose you came at a good time. Your effort to create the seed of language did work. The chanters¡­ not all of them, but many of them, they have begun learning real language. It¡¯s¡­ we are optimistic. For now.¡± ¡±What language?¡± Alanna asked, perking up with interest. ¡±It¡¯s a learning language, really.¡± Indira said. ¡°I would say it is limited English, but it isn¡¯t really limited. It is part English, part emote. Easily understood, impossible for most non-chanters to speak. But it introduces them more fluidly to the idea of speaking, and also understanding words.¡± It felt like a weight slowly faded off of James¡¯ shoulders as he heard that. He didn¡¯t even know how to express the feeling; it was something like a profound relief that the people he had saved weren¡¯t going to just surrender and give up. They were¡­ maybe not destined, that was a word he didn¡¯t like¡­ but they would have the option of being part of a community. Their community. A shared one, where they could keep growing and learning and their own take on language itself could be a valuable and loved addition. Out loud, he simply said ¡°That¡¯s great.¡± And tried not to choke on the words as his own feelings overwhelmed him, Alanna silently moving behind him to set a hand on his uninjured shoulder in a comforting gesture. If Indira noticed, she pretended not to, instead itching at where one of her legs ended midway down her thigh. ¡°Mmh. It is so. Constructing it has been a feat, especially so quickly. It would have been better I think if we could get one of the magical programs to do it, but still. And learning to speak it so I could teach them is an ongoing process, let us say. But-¡° ¡±Hollllld up.¡± Alanna perched her head on James¡¯ shoulder to stare at Indira. ¡°You said mostly only the chanters spoke it.¡± ¡±Yes. And me.¡± She delivered that information in a blunt way like she didn¡¯t seem to care how revvalatory it was. James also had questions, much like his girlfriend. Starting with ¡°Uh¡­ how?¡± ¡±Like this.¡± Indira said as James felt a geographically focused source of smug satisfaction and educated consideration. Alanna pushed back from her boyfriend, tilting her head to stare off into the middle distance. ¡±Do that again!¡± She requested. Eagerly. This time, her response was paired with modulated annoyance. ¡°No.¡± She said, then winced as she fumbled. ¡°That was a mistake. Their language has no space for sarcasm; it isn¡¯t in their nature. Admirable, really.¡± ¡°I love this place.¡± Alanna said, rather bluntly herself, nodding to the woman in front of her as she took a deep breath of the morning air in the tent. ¡°Do we have copies of that purple or whatever you used? Or is it an infomorph thing? I wonder if I could replicate it with an authority.¡± ¡°I just checked,¡± James informed her as he pulled the information with his skulljack attachments, ¡°we¡¯ve got a few of them, copying is ramping up for exactly this project, so they won¡¯t be available until two weeks from now probably.¡± ¡±Well I know what I¡¯m spending my points on!¡± Alanna declared. Indira gave her a confused look, still speaking the constructed language for the chanters to learn on. ¡°You have budget?¡± She asked with an outpouring of questioning and the sense of miscalibrated importance. ¡°Ah, apologies. Emphasis is a challenge like that. You have a budget? I would have thought you would be¡­¡± ¡±Exempt?¡± Alanna laughed. ¡°Nope! The whole point of the points program is that we want magic distributed, and that doesn¡¯t work if someone gets special treatment!¡± ¡±I get special treatment.¡± James said, at the same time that Indira was pointing at him and saying ¡°He gets special treatment.¡± ¡±James is a paladin, he gets everything he needs to do that job at high speed.¡± Alanna found herself seemingly arguing against two people at once, including one person who she really shouldn¡¯t have to have this argument with. ¡°Also James still doesn¡¯t take his orbs!¡± James shrugged. ¡±It¡¯s true. I¡¯ve got a paladin package waiting back at the Lair. Though this time it¡¯s kinda on purpose, because I need to heal the eye first so I don¡¯t get purples that mess with it in a weird way.¡± He quirked a smile at Indira, trying to not make it sound like he was making light of his own healing in a way that would annoy the girl that seemed resistant to restoring her own missing limb. ¡°But yeah, that¡¯s cool chanter progress. Legitimately, super excited about that.¡± They chatted for a bit longer about the specifics of the language, of how some of the chanters who had begun to learn also started to accept yellow orbs more directly, and about how communications with the necroads were going. Or utterly failing to go, as the case happened to be. James spent a while there, including sitting in on a short lesson with a group of chanters that came by, while Alanna went off to roam the town on her own. And he felt again that satisfaction he¡¯d been experiencing down here over and over again. Here was something that was working. Where their insistence on compassion, even if it took effort and resources, was proving to be worth it. It felt like a window into a world that was coming together. A place on the edge of being fully realized. Afterward, it was late enough into the day that he rounded up Alanna to grab lunch. And as he felt was only appropriate for their new world, they got about a third of the way into their food before something interrupted them. ¡ª- There was a difference to James between restless and bored. Probably because of some mental health problem that he¡¯d never really acknowledged fully, but he felt like it was a reasonable distinction anyway. Bored was when you needed to do something. Restless was when you needed to do something else. And right now, he was technically doing a few things. He was on vacation to relax and recharge, and also importantly to heal. He was spending time with Alanna, even if some of that time was quietly lurking near each other while they hung out. He was reading a book he¡¯d picked up from the local library - Townton had a library, even if it was just the top floor of one of the restored main street buildings filled with every salvaged book they¡¯d found. And also the roof of that building, covered in various seating and tents to keep the weather off - and generally enjoying the story. He was also, against the advisement of at least one person, exercising his Climb magic to throw out a cast of the Rot Eyes spell every half hour or so. It wasn¡¯t like he was doing anything else with his Breath, and the reduction in his body temperature while he and Alanna sat out in the sun was welcome. Before he¡¯d set out for this little vacation, Anesh had told James that he¡¯d started to figure out the potential dungeontech from Winter¡¯s Climb. And James was really, really interested in that, but he was also interested in hearing it from Anesh. So since he didn¡¯t exactly need to know right this moment, he kept alllllmost reading the document Anesh was compiling, before stopping himself. But he wasn¡¯t content to do literally nothing with his magic, so he was trying to figure out just how flexible the Climb spells were compared to something like an absorbed blue orb. The answer seemed to be that they were highly inflexible. Now, James wasn¡¯t bored. But he was restless. And the mild distraction of suddenly learning about the different fungi near him was a good way to feel like he¡¯d done something so he could then ¡®switch back¡¯ to quietly reading. ¡±Stop that!¡± Alanna, laying with her back flat on the picnic table and holding her phone over her face in a way that James was certain would bite her in the ass later, chastized him. ¡°I can feel when you do that!¡± ¡±Yeah, but now I know about how there¡¯s lion¡¯s mane mushroom growing here!¡± He said. And then when Alanna looked back and forth like she was searching for where, James leaned his head back against her flank and added, ¡°Not here here. I mean, in the area. Found that one earlier. Normally wouldn¡¯t grow in a city, but with most of the people gone¡­¡± He trailed off before picking back up. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m up to almost twenty two hundred on my Biology lesson! That¡¯s like relaxing!¡± Alanna tried to put him in a headlock without getting up, which mostly just led to her dropping her phone into her neck and flailing around a bit before dramatically draping herself like a beautiful corpse over the table. ¡°That is the opposite of relaxing. That¡¯s work!¡± ¡±I¡¯m a paladin right now, all magic is technically work, yes.¡± James agreed. ¡°But this work has a number that I can make go up! And if I do it another two thousand times, I¡¯ll be even harder to kill!¡± Begrudgingly, his girlfriend had to admit that was a pretty good sales pitch. Alanna sat herself up, watching a group of chanters scurry past the little seating area sandwiched between three different important things. It almost looked like they were escorting, or perhaps kidnapping, a couple of people. ¡°Alright.¡± Alanna tried not to sigh. ¡°I will admit, I like you better alive.¡± James laughed. ¡±High praise!¡± ¡±Mmh, priorities shifting rapidly.¡± ¡±No, my praise!¡± She swung her legs over to sit on the table next to where James was on the bench, his book held loosely in his fingers. ¡°You remember a year ago, when we hung out in the summer and got ice cream that one time, how we talked about the way we didn¡¯t want to let dungeon things overcome our whole personal lives?¡± Alanna asked him. James carefully set the paperback on the table, and turned to face her with his fingertips pressed together. ¡°Alanna.¡± He said. ¡±Aw shit, that¡¯s the ¡®you fucked up¡¯ voice. And the ¡®you fucked up but it¡¯s funny¡¯ emotion! What did I fuck up? Was that with Anesh?! Dammit, I¡¯m not cut out for being poly, I can¡¯t remember shit!¡± ¡±I¡­ no, that was me.¡± James bit back a smile. ¡°We did absolutely get ice cream and have that conversation. Like¡­ almost three years ago?¡± ¡±No.¡± ¡±Yup.¡± ¡±Noooo. That can¡¯t be right.¡± He shook his head sadly. ¡°I regret to inform you, but do not regret how hilarious this is, that it has been a while. We weren¡¯t even dating at the time! We didn¡¯t know about Sarah.¡± Alanna pressed a palm to her forehead. ¡±Holy shit. My life has been entirely taken over.¡± She stated in a daze. ¡°Should I be trying to escape? Three years? No, impossible.¡± ¡±Why the heck would you want to escape? We can have casual conversations about literal magic. Also for those of us who don¡¯t have integrated cooling systems, we can double up on beating the heat and learning about mushrooms.¡± James felt like there were a number of perks to their current lives. The fact that they had more responsibilities was kind of a personal issue; if he¡¯d gotten elected or found buried pirate gold or something that didn¡¯t involve magic at all but still gave him power, he¡¯d still feel like he had those responsibilities. The magic just made it¡­ fun. ¡°Oh right!¡± Alanna leaned back on her palms to gaze up at the blue sky and the rippling white clouds that didn¡¯t do much to block out the midday sun. ¡°Actually when you say it like that, and I really think about it, we¡¯ve done a lot in those years, huh?¡± ¡±Ayup. I mean, shit, even the chanters have been with us for months at this point. And¡­¡± James paused as a trio of those very waist high life forms scuttled up to a handful of people who were unloading cardboard boxes from the back of a small truck on the other side of the street. The chanters isolated one of them after she sat a box on the ground, and while James couldn¡¯t hear anything specific even with his enhanced ears, he could see that one of the chanters was talking from under its thick shell. A second later, the woman waved and called to her companions that she had to take a break, before she was escorted away in the middle of the chanter group, their angled legs moving with quick taps across the pavement. ¡°¡­and¡­¡± James had completely lost his train of thought. ¡±Yeah that¡¯s weird.¡± Alanna agreed, hopping to her feet amid the dry grass. ¡°Should we check that out?¡± ¡±Aren¡¯t I supposed to be on vacation? Aren¡¯t we on vacation?¡± James ribbed her in a way that he knew for a fact she would understand was joking. Alanna stuck out her tongue at him. ¡°Checking out weird stuff is a vacation. Remember that thing that was probably a fucking decade ago I dunno anymore, where we went on a road trip and found an axe murderer for our summer road trip?¡± ¡±That was¡­ not a vacation!¡± James stopped himself correcting her on the timeline because he was no longer sure himself. Maybe he had been doing this for ten years, how was he supposed to know? It wasn¡¯t going to stop him from tucking his book into the pocket of his cargo shorts and catching up to Alanna, every part of his body aching and sore despite the energy he felt filled with. ¡°Wait up!¡± The Townton restoration zone wasn¡¯t large enough that you could easily get lost in it, and due to the orange totem living spaces there were a lot of people in a relatively compact space. So seeing others on the street was a common thing. And that included chanters, or sometimes the curious nonhostile necroads that showed up. What was less common was the chanters leaving the park space that they had been set up in with numbers. But today, that seemed to have been overturned. In under two blocks of walking, James and Alanna saw at least five different chanter escort squads; small groups of them with their eyes glistening from under the shade of their shells, moving in formations around people as they led them back to the park. Species didn¡¯t seem to matter; there were just as many camracondas and ratroaches as humans, though he noticed that the vent spider wasn¡¯t being included. Yet, at least. And neither was one particularly grumpy looking human that James noticed had the hallmarks of either Ruby or Prince¡¯s shapeshifting technique. There was a small moment where James considered that if this was the chanters collecting people into a trap, it was basically the perfect long con designed to target a group like the Order of Endless Rooms specifically. Everyone mostly thought of the chanters as poor little meow meows, even though that was clearly a result of abuse and deprivation and not because they were inherently lesser in any way. But that did mean that if they showed up to lead you somewhere, an Order member would likely drop what they were doing and follow just to see what was up, especially if they thought the chanters might need help. Literally that was the job of half the people down here, after all. So if the chanters had dug a giant pit trap, this would be the optimal way to get a lot of people in it. ¡±What in the hell are you thinking?¡± Alanna asked as they paused for some people who were leaving the building they were passing by to get out of the way. ¡°Because it feels like you think you¡¯re thinking something really dumb, but you¡¯re also amused, and it¡¯s bizarre.¡± ¡±I love your special brand of mind reading.¡± James took her hand in his, briefly, before they both decided it was too warm for that to be comfortable. ¡°I was thinking about a giant pit trap.¡± Alanna¡¯s cheeks took on a hint of red as she bit down on her lip. ¡°Yeeeah, I had that thought too. But it¡¯s fine, right? Right.¡± She agreed with herself before James could get the word out, but he did honestly think it was fine. When they rounded the corner and saw the verdant green space of the park, James faltered slightly, because it didn¡¯t feel quite as fine. The park had always had a weird relationship to the space around it; the Order deciding to use it for the chanters had sort of led to them pushing their restoration to surround it and then move outward from there, and the park certainly wasn¡¯t small. Multiple blocks of space where half of it was allowed to grow wild and just sort of continued by city employees, a walking path that ran through it with enough room that no one would have to feel crowded, and even with the forty or so thick canvas tents that the chanters slept in, there was still a lot of open ground. But for all that, the park was still divided. There was a road, and despite the chanters¡¯ magic slowly eroding it with defiantly growing grass, that road marked a cutoff point. Today, the cutoff point was a little different. Today, standing at intervals around the park space, at least a hundred of the chanters stood staring outward in what looked very much like a defensive perimeter line. They were obviously nervous, and it wasn¡¯t just the body language of shifting side to side and twitching at motion that cued James in, but the broadcast empathic sensation in the air. Next to him, Alanna shivered, twitching herself as she tried and only partly succeeded in keeping the outside emotion separate from her own feelings. The pair kept back, waiting in the middle of the road between one of the food stalls and the spot where scavenging teams were supposed to drop off intact electronics for repair. Other people nearby were also paused in what they were doing, watching as the groups of chanters that had darted out into the city and its small crowds returned through their perimeter with their escorted people in tow. Behind the chanters on guard, it seemed like the handful of people the empathic group was collecting were people familiar to them. James spotted Indira in there, as well as Dorothy and Kirk. Also a ratroach he was pretty sure was Ishah, but he didn¡¯t want to assume just based on the infomorph glow. And then, abruptly, the camraconda that had stuck her head out from between the medical tent in front of them pulled back, and the chanters that had emerged again scuttled at an incredibly rapid speed to surround James and Alanna. ¡±Oh, hi.¡± He said, calm as he could reasonably be. Which was actually pretty calm; this seemed like something important to them, but not dangerous. One of the chanters planted its legs and raised its front two limbs up in front of itself as James and Alanna were encircled, the light smell of cinnamon coming with their new escorts. ¡±Hello.¡± The word was¡­ rough. Almost a warble; not stammered like how ratroaches often spoke nor in the piecemeal english of new camracondas, this was just a voice that hadn¡¯t ever been used that needed practice with a lot of things. The word came with an overlapping dual emotion; of reassurance, and of progress being made. Though the reassurance felt¡­ not fake, but a bit stressed. ¡°Follow.¡± The chanter paired spoken language with the emotion of expectation and hope. ¡°Happy to!¡± James said, trying to mirror the emotion part, and realizing that he just¡­ couldn¡¯t. He couldn¡¯t wait for one of those purple orbs; being spoken to with emotional clarity was actually hugely helpful in communication even if the words themselves were limited, and he wanted in on that but with more complexity. ¡°Shall we?¡± He offered an arm to Alanna. ¡±Only if we¡¯re not about to be murdered.¡± She said lightly, linking elbows with him and lasting about three steps before their height difference ruined their attempt to look suave. Some people waved at them or called out greetings as they were led through the line around the park. It looked like a lot of people were gathering around now, keeping a distance probably so the chanters didn¡¯t get nervous, but still obviously curious. As soon as James and Alanna were brought through, they were led over to one of the newer park benches that the Order had installed, and then just left there. Inside the park, the chanters were alight with activity, and the emotional pressure of nervous energy was even higher. Now this, James felt, was restless. Dozens of chanters, the remaining hundred or two that weren¡¯t out fetching people to the other benches or watching the outside of their home territory, scuttled back and forth. Checking inside tents, brushing up against each other with gestures that James didn¡¯t know the social meaning of, running off to employ their burgeoning communication skills to talk to their guards. It didn¡¯t seem like they were doing anything, only that they felt like they should be. ¡±Good afternoon.¡± A young woman¡¯s dry voice from behind them paired with a sudden shadow over their bench, and James flinched at the presence while Alanna seemed to have expected it. ¡±Hey Cam.¡± Alanna said, leaning one arm over the smooth wood and looking up at the human looking girl who had opted to keep her original color theme going by wearing all grey today. James¡¯ reaction was less subdued. ¡°You are ten feet wide, how are you so sneaky?¡± He should have expected her; he¡¯d seen a glimpse of the girl patrolling the area, though it was unclear if she was helping the chanters or keeping a watchful eye on them. Probably both. The fact that Cam hadn¡¯t approached him over the last couple days probably meant she just didn¡¯t have anything to say to him, because he was positive she knew every single person that entered Townton. ¡±Training and conditioning.¡± Camille said simply. ¡°I would like to ask you to wait here, and not move too suddenly. They are nervous.¡± ¡±I noticed.¡± Alanna said, foot tapping rapidly on the emerald grass. ¡°What¡¯s going on anyway?¡± Cam glanced back from where she had turned to peer over the edge of one of her wings to watch the chanters bringing more people into the park. ¡°Their eggs.¡± She said. ¡°I believe they are hatching. Though I do not know why they are selecting the people they are to be nearby.¡± ¡°Probably picking people they like and trust. Or¡­ as much as they can, you know? I know I saw Indira earlier.¡± Personally, James felt really satisfied to be on the ¡®trusted by the chanters¡¯ list. He hadn¡¯t been here very often, and just being the person who rescued them wasn¡¯t exactly enough to show them who he really was. ¡°Probably why you¡¯re allowed in, too, which is neat.¡± Camille¡¯s bare hand tightened on the back of the bench, and the wood creaked under her grip until she blew out a short breath and relaxed before she crushed it to splinters. ¡°Thank you for saying that.¡± She said, like she was operating on a script. ¡°But I do not¡­ I am not someone they should¡­¡± when James turned to look at her, she was blankly over his head at the center of one of the park¡¯s big fields, eyes focused but mind clearly elsewhere as she searched for words. ¡°I should not be here.¡± She settled on. ¡±There¡¯s a ton of space, if they wanted everyone here we could have fit the whole city in for an event.¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡°But you don¡¯t mean like that.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. ¡±I have two skillsets.¡± Camille said in her dull voice. Not bored. James knew bored, and Cam was never neither bored nor restless, but a secret third thing. ¡°I acquire targets, and I break things. Neither of those are¡­ I¡¯m not supposed to be here. Not here, not for this. This is important. I just break things.¡± James sighed. ¡°You really don¡¯t.¡± He said with what he hoped was a reassuring grin. ¡°You¡¯ve been here for, what, a week or so? And nothing is broken, and a bunch of people know you and like you. Sounds like you¡¯ve got more roots here than I do.¡± Suddenly interjecting before Cam could respond, Alanna lightly clapped her hands together. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re afraid of admitting it to yourself.¡± Alanna said suddenly, provoking Cam to snap her head around and stare. ¡°Sorry! Empathy doesn¡¯t really turn off! But it¡¯s also on your face, and the chanters probably know anyway. You¡¯re afraid that if you acknowledge that you¡¯re a good person, it¡¯ll hurt, because you could have done it earlier. And I get that!¡± Alanna nodded with the satisfaction of someone who had just finished a puzzle. ¡°But come on. You¡¯re new to freedom, cut yourself a little slack.¡± ¡±Never.¡± Cam whispered. ¡°Because if I do that, I might make a mistake. Your mistakes might get you hurt. My mistakes¡­ when we first met, do you remember, I asked you if you needed help?¡± She stared into James¡¯ eye. ¡°Help exterminating a loose dungeon species.¡± Her hand snapped out, pointing like a knife toward the chanters in the field that were probably making the whole population of the city feel the weight of expectation at the moment. ¡°My mistakes are not tolerable.¡± James stared at her, then closed his good eye and tried for force through a calming breath despite the ambient emotional fog. Reaching up, he settled a hand on Cam¡¯s wrist and slowly pushed her hand down. ¡°Fuck. I¡­ I think everyone gets that, Cam. Everyone feels that way sometimes, even if you¡¯re more dangerous everyone has shared that feeling.¡± James said, smooshing a hand into his cheek and rubbing at his face hard enough to make his bruises ache. ¡°You¡¯re not¡­ a bad person, just because you¡¯ve become a better person. It¡¯s okay, you know? It¡¯s okay to not be okay, and it¡¯s okay to grow. And however you do it, the Order is here for you. Because you did ask. Because you didn¡¯t just start breaking skulls.¡± Alanna had the thought that it was probably why Camille was upset. Because she had known that maybe doing things the way she was trained was wrong. That asking was her way of getting an out; either to not do it, or to shove off responsibility. But she kept it to herself. And was glad she did, as Cam idly gripped the joint of one of her wings and tugged the limb lightly into a new position while standing behind their seat. ¡°¡­and I am here for you.¡± Cam whispered into the breeze, replying to James. ¡°How could I not be? You are everything the Last Line told us humanity was not. You are worthy of everything. You make me feel worthy. I don¡¯t understand it, though. And maybe I don¡¯t want to.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay to be afraid.¡± Alanna said with a steady look, not hearing half of what Cam whispered but feeling her trepidation anyway. ¡°We¡¯re all afraid, all the time. And you¡¯re doing what we do! Punching through it. Emotionally, not¡­ not physically. Maybe physically? Do you punch things?¡± ¡°Not as much, here.¡± Cam glanced back down the street to an unassuming apartment that wasn¡¯t one of the restored and upgraded ones. ¡°Perhaps later.¡± She said cryptically. James really, really wanted to dig into that. But he knew, in an instant, that he wasn¡¯t going to get a chance to. The first sound came from one of the nearest tents, and the chanters froze in place. Even the ones still bringing more people to the park, who then sped away even faster than before, showing off top speeds that James had actually never seen out of them. They¡¯d definitely been holding back what their bodies could do, which felt a little bad, but maybe after this things could keep changing. Keep improving. The noise itself was like a flat rock breaking. A single crack, not overly loud, but certainly not ignorable. When it repeated itself farther off in the distance, it became even less likely that it was something unpredicted. The chanters began to cluster around specific tents, a sea of grey shells and spiky legs that shifted like a bizarre crop of wheat. Then another, and another. A string of cracks and pops, followed by a minute of silence, followed by another singularly loud snapping. James sat in silence with Alanna, while Cam stood behind the bench like she was prepared to take action in a nebulously undirected way. The emotional atmosphere roiled and shifted like a tide. Excitement, panic, enthusiasm, fear, and then, as the sounds that were almost certainly the hidden caches of chanter eggs hatching faded away and no more took their place, the emotional broadcast from the collective group of the chanters took on a dull and distant tone. Something familiar to James, as how they suppressed their empathic outpouring in the early days. Things got quiet. The breeze, the crunch of grasses and weeds underfoot, the shifting of people outside the park and the rumble of engines heading back into Townton from even farther out, those noises were still there. But everyone who had been invited in by the chanters seemed to be holding their breath. Motion from across the park caught James¡¯ attention, and Cam started to step around their bench like she planned on investigating, but the suddenly scuttling of two dozen chanters past them from behind stopped her as a good chunk of the ones that had been guarding the outside rushed past toward the tents. More still seemed like they didn¡¯t know where to go, darting between other chanters and in and out of the tents, moving in frantic bursts as on the other side of the park, a small group approached where James was pretty sure Indira and a few others from the communication group were seated. His tense curiosity was sated not long after, as from one of the tents, a single chanter emerged that had six others flanking it in a V formation. It swept tall glittering eyes around the park, until it saw where James was, and began making its way toward him. Stopping ten feet away, half on the little asphalt path that ran through the park, half on the barkdust underneath one of the pear trees that had way too much fruit on it for something that was only a year old, the honor guard fell back as a single chanter approached the group, something carried close to its chest. James heard Alanna suck in a breath next to him, and realized why as the chanter got within a few feet. It was something he¡¯d felt from them before, and had hoped to never have cause to feel again. A kind of dread, a dark pit of it, the sensation of being Damocles and waiting forever for the blade to drop with the firm knowledge that nothing would ever take it away. The chanter was clearly trying to keep it from leaking out, but the fear was still there, and they had learned away their restraint. Which was probably why the child it was cradling was crying. The fear reaching it as well, as it was carried out to the watching humans and Cam. The chanter, perhaps its specific parent even, still not entirely sure if this wasn¡¯t the moment where things turned. It wasn¡¯t much suspense for James, though, who knew that it wasn¡¯t. But it was a meaningful moment for a different reason, as the chanter walked slowly forward on needle legs toward Camille. And ever so gently, raised the burden in its forearms to her. Cam looked to James with her own secret terror behind her eyes, but he just gave her a smile and a short jerk of his head. Alanna similarly offered no advice on what she was supposed to do, except to say ¡°Be careful.¡± Which was how Cam found herself gently dropping to her knees in the dirt of a flourishing park in the middle of nowhere Tennessee, and reaching out to hold a newborn. The chanter had no shell, and barely had a form at all yet. More of a grey blob of a creature with just the hint of where its legs would grow in. The eyes, though, were open and glistening, emotive under the bright sunlight. So Cam pulled it closer into her shadow. Kneeling in the grass and dirt, both her and her charge entirely unarmored, though for different reasons, cradling a creature she couldn¡¯t begin to know the future of as gently as she possibly could. ¡±Hello.¡± She said, her voice as crisp and professional as it always was. Or at least, that was what she tried to do. For some reason the word didn¡¯t come out right. The child in her hands seemed to stare up at her, and she allowed it access to one of her fingers to poke at with the thin needle of its newly accessible limbs. And then, unsure of what else to do, she looked back up at the other chanters and delicately offered their child back to them. The tide of emotion broke, at least around their group. Alanna could already feel the contrast from other points around the park, where fear and dread were swept away by tentative joy and confused hope. But it was almost overwhelming from the cluster of chanters that had brought the newest of their number to them, and was so close. It hurt her teeth to feel, and she considered if she¡¯d have to excuse herself. But then the chanter was offering them the child to hold, and she knew she couldn¡¯t when James took the kid and cradled it in his lap. ¡±Hi there.¡± She heard her boyfriend murmuring with a smile to the newly hatched tiny form. ¡°You¡¯re going to have an amazing time here, I promise.¡± James slowly turned to let her give the chanter a smile and a small facsimile of a high five. ¡°Welcome to-¡° he stopped and looked up, out at the chanters and their place in the city, but also at the other people around with them. Everyone who was sharing the moment and the space and their lives. And he changed what he was going to say. ¡°Welcome home.¡± James whispered, just loud enough for Alanna to hear. It sounded good to everyone there. As a bonus, for the rest of the day, James could confidently say he was neither bored nor restless. Chapter 300 ¡°It was painful and confusing and I suck at it, but I¡¯m gonna keep trying. I mean, that¡¯s how I feel about life anyway, so.¡± -Marigold, Questionable Content- _____ The Research basement was still in the process of being sorted out, a sentence that was likely never going to stop being true. Sometime in what James figured was last month, but refused to put a specific date on, someone had added about a mile of hallway to the place. Nothing attached to it, just hallway. It made things confusing enough, so with the growing Research staff that included actual real world professionals who needed things like their own workspaces, someone decided to make it worse and just put rooms there. A lot of this came from green orbs. Unreliable, finicky, capricious green orbs. In trying to keep up with the ongoing tests on the things, James had sort of figured that there was an intuitive design to them where they had a ¡®perfect target¡¯, and if they were used somewhere else they¡¯d try to conceptually match what they would have ideally done. An orb that would be perfect for a farm would be fine for a garden and would install a potted plant in someone¡¯s corner office, for example. And that was fascinating and all, but it didn¡¯t really account for the Lair. Because the Lair was kind of sort of a lot of different things. It was the headquarters of the Order, but it was also a hundred homes, a restaurant, a tactical planning center, dispatch for emergency response, a pretty expansive public bath, a youth group, technically the ground floor of an accounting office, and a magic vault. As in, a vault for magic. Not a vault that was magic. That specificity was probably important. All this was to say, there was a reason why there was a ballroom down here. James figured that the green orb that made it probably just got confused, and in a way he sympathized with that little compact mote of magic. But it was still weird to pass by two sets of ornate double doors complete with stained glass arches over top, set into unadorned concrete, on his way to get to the landmark of the skulljack braid development lab. From there, it was just following the signs - they¡¯d made signs, James was so proud of them - to find the side hallway with the empty set aside rooms that didn¡¯t have much of a unique purpose, and often got used for when people wanted to either test something specific or have a quiet place for a meeting or a nap. ¡°So!¡± James said as he slid through the door, mindful not to be too vigorous in his dramatic entrance; a week off split between a bed and Townton had done a lot of good for him, but he still had stitches in some of his injuries and was currently down an eye. Though he was getting used to that. ¡°You made a breakthrough!¡± Three different Anesh all looked up with startled twitches, one of whom made a noise like a parrot¡¯s squawk as he jerked sideways. On the smooth plywood table between them, the pool cue they were messing with got knocked out of place, and someone either focused too much or too little. A blob of magic hit James in the chest. It didn¡¯t feel like anything, and it barely looked like anything either. Just kind of a clear film in the air that moved so fast he barely had time to track it; fired out of the end of the pool cue like a slimy projectile. James looked down at himself, then held his hands up, checking to see if he was mutating or dying or something. Calmly looking up at his boyfriends, he nudged the bit of hair that had fallen into his field of vision back over to where it was covering his eyepatch, and cleared his throat. ¡°Why am I thirsty?¡± He asked. Two of the Anesh looked at each other with pursed lips while the third frantically messed with the pool cue¡¯s position, trying to keep it pointed at absolutely no one. ¡±Because you were just hit with the spell that converts addiction or compulsion into thirst?¡± Anesh asked him. Or told him. ¡°And in a more broad sense, because I¡¯m working on this and not on imbuing the Underburbs skill crystals, cause there¡¯s a moratorium on that particular foolishness. Also probably some other broad cosmic reasons, I suppose.¡± ¡±Alright, two things.¡± James held up fingers and counted off. ¡°One, what am I no longer addicted to? Is it caffeine? Because I won¡¯t like that, I like caffeine. Two, at the risk of sounding obvious here, that¡¯s a touch attack spell?¡± ¡±We don¡¯t use D&D terms but yes, it requires contact.¡± Anesh said. ¡°Hi, by the way. Welcome back. How was Townton?¡± ¡±Nooooo no no no no.¡± James laughed even as he stepped around the cardboard box full of random stuff to wrap his arms around the first Anesh he found, moving on to the next one before the hug became too warm so that he¡¯d have the same level of energy and enthusiasm for each of them. ¡°You don¡¯t get to play this game! You can ask me about vacation later, now you get to tell me about how you made a wizard staff!¡± One of the Anesh nudged another, the third shifting slightly back as all three of them made brief eye contact. James picked up on a surprising depth to the byplay; not surprising that he noticed exactly, but surprising that there was so much between three of the same person. ¡°Alright, well, as long as we get to hear some stories. The whole place has been buzzing the past couple days about our privately owned city and I blame you.¡± ¡±What did I do!¡± James laughed happily as he moved to the other side of the table, deftly turning a clipboard with a checklist of Climb spells on it so he could read the words. ¡±I haven¡¯t the foggiest. That¡¯s why we want stories.¡± Anesh all grinned at him, the small little lopsided smile his boyfriend used when he was feeling tired but still at peace. ¡°But for now, behold.¡± Two of the Anesh spread their hands out over the pool cue. ¡°Dungeontech from Winter¡¯s Climb.¡± James nodded, appraising the object. ¡±Yeah I remember this. Arrush said it smelled odd on our very first delve. We still have this?¡± ¡±Seemed like a good idea.¡± Anesh shrugged. ¡°And clearly it was.¡± Another one of him added. ¡°Because it¡¯s magic.¡± ¡±How magic?¡± ¡±Wizard staff magic. Well, wand magic I suppose.¡± Anesh tapped his chin in idle thought. ¡°This one is anyway.¡± ¡±Anesh.¡± James could feel his boyfriend stretching out the explanation, enjoying the mystery of the whole thing. He found it fun, and was himself smiling back, but he also wanted to know what the hell was going on. ¡°Tell me the secrets you¡­ you¡­¡± An Anesh stepped over to his side of the table and lightly leaned his head against James¡¯ shoulder. ¡±You¡¯re so much worse at friendly bullying than Sarah is.¡± He told his partner. ¡±I don¡¯t want to be rude, I just want to bully you into giving me more magic!¡± James protested, knowing full well that nothing he said defended his honor at all. If anyone was going to understand though, it was Anesh, and all three of the copies of him in the room nodded. ¡°Valid point. Alright, here¡¯s the long and short of it. They¡¯re all wands.¡± James nodded as Anesh spoke, carefully taking in each word and committing it to his enhanced memory. And then realized that Anesh had stopped talking. ¡°And?¡± ¡±And that¡¯s the basics. You now know everything you need to, in order to use Climb dungeontech.¡± Anesh told him with satisfied nods and a professional voice like he was narrating a training video before one of him chimed in with his normal speaking tone. ¡°Well, mostly. But the basics really are that simple. Climb items let you cast spells into them, and use them later. It¡¯s just the details that get complicated.¡± ¡±Details like how you shot me with a spell that has a range of nanometers.¡± James pointed out, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth and wishing he¡¯d brought a bottle of water. ¡°Speaking of, I¡¯m gonna actually need to find a¡­oh, thanks.¡± He trailed off as Anesh handed him a mason jar full of ice water. ¡°Is this safe to drink or is it radioactive or something? I never know down here.¡± By the time Anesh started to tell him it was fine, James was already drinking anyway. ¡°It¡¯s for testing the¡­ oh, go ahead then. At least I know how to poison you if I ever need to.¡± ¡±Easily. Apparently.¡± James sighed in contentment. ¡°So the details?¡± ¡±Yes. Well. Each different item modifies the spells put into it. The pool cue is the most directly useful I¡¯ve found so far, because it makes something ranged, but they all change it somehow.¡± Anesh started rearranging stuff in the box and handing it to himself. ¡°The watch will automatically cast the spell in it every¡­ well, it¡¯s a weirdly specific amount of time but roundabouts every four hours. The hubcap is pretty near to being a landmine. This sock will try to cast a big version of the spell whenever it gets too hot. I think.¡± James stopped trying to commit things to memory, this was all a bit too much. ¡°Woah hey hang on!¡± He laughed and held up his hands. ¡°That whole box is stuff like this?¡± ¡±No, this whole box is badly sorted, and a lot of it is mundane. But it turns out¡­ okay, you know the sensation of Climb casting?¡± Anesh asked, tagging out for himself halfway through the sentence. Carefully watching his boyfriend stack random water damaged items on the table, James gave a slow answer. ¡°Like having your lungs pulled out through your throat?¡± ¡±Yes, exactly.¡± One Anesh winced. ¡°Well, for these things, it¡¯s possible to sort of¡­ guide that process into the item. Casting slower, and pouring a single spell into the reserve that these things all have.¡± ¡±Hey, yo, hang on.¡± James snapped his fingers in excitement. ¡°What about-¡° ¡±None of them are even close to big enough for the cathedral spell, no.¡± Anesh answered, already anticipating the question. He glanced up at the ceiling in unison as the air conditioning clicked on. ¡°Thought we got that fixed.¡± One of him muttered. ¡°And by fixed I mean locked in the off position.¡± ¡±I¡¯ll check it out later. So they have set amounts they can hold?¡± Anesh nodded and directed James attention to a different set of notes. ¡±I¡¯ve been measuring them in Breath cost, which seems to be accurate. The watch actually has the most despite being small, but none of them go over thirty. You can, as long as it¡¯s the same spell going in, drip cast things though! At least into some of them. We need more, clearly.¡± ¡±So why all the mundane stuff?¡± ¡±Well, partly, we were testing things.¡± Anesh said. ¡°And also,¡± another Anesh continued, ¡°there¡¯s a lot of objects that got brought back that people thought were magic, that just aren¡¯t. And this is something else I wanted to talk to you about. You know the way Office dungeontech feels?¡± James absolutely did, the feeling of it had become a comfortable friend to him over the last few years. ¡°Hot salt!¡± He said with a knowing nod, eye staring off into the distance as he remembered the first time he realized that he actually could feel magic. Anesh all wore small smiles at the enthusiasm of their boyfriend. ¡°What a way with words. Well, it¡¯s wrong.¡± ¡±Beg pardon?¡± James jolted out of his reviere. ¡±Wrong. Incorrect. Not right. Third synonym.¡± Anesh sighed as he held up a rather distressed looking sock. ¡°Tell me what this feels like, would you?¡± James looked at it, focusing on that item alone among all the others. ¡°I mean¡­ a little bit like that. Not as much molten as the Office stuff, but yeah, still got the hot salt feeling. Why?¡± ¡±Okay this one is fake.¡± Anesh threw it over into a separate box he had in the corner, sinking the shot with an easy overhand lob. ¡°That¡¯s what I wanted to mention. We¡¯ve been relying a little on those dungeon instincts that people build up, but I don¡¯t think we should. We¡¯ve been assuming there¡¯s a universal answer to dungeontech like this, and I¡¯m starting to think that¡¯s a mistake.¡± The information had James frowning in thought. ¡±So dungeon sense doesn¡¯t have a universal¡­ what, tone? Language? Vibe?¡± ¡±I¡¯d say language, but that¡¯s because I don¡¯t want to sound too American.¡± Anesh conceded. ¡±Vibe is in no way an American only word.¡± James felt like they could get way too sidetracked on that argument, and so he forced the conversation back into place. ¡°So do these break? Like with Office blues?¡± The guilty look on Anesh¡¯s faces gave him an answer even before his boyfriend spoke. ¡°Yes, but they seem to be as durable as things normally are. Except to fire or electric current.¡± That was oddly specific but also oddly easy for James to instantly understand. ¡°They drop orbs, if you can believe it. Not a color we¡¯ve seen, they¡¯re a sort of cloudy grey. Nik and Mars have the ones I¡­ acquired. We figured it was a good idea to split up the testing, before we get enough material to open things up to the rest of Research.¡± ¡±What do they do?¡± ¡±Well cracking them refills Breath, and that¡¯s all we know for now. It¡¯s absurdly dangerous because it gives none of the associated air or heat. Someone from medical came by and put up a few new warning posters, which is how you know it¡¯s serious.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep from smiling at that. ¡°I love this place.¡± He muttered with a shake of his head. ¡°Alright. Well, are you busy right now?¡± ¡±Not¡­ exactly? I¡¯m mostly just working on how each spell interacts with each item, but you know I have a rather limited pool to work with and my horrid assistant went out to lunch.¡± Anesh crossed three sets of arms in unison. He¡¯d been wanting to go on a slightly longer Climb delve in his new semi-individual states, and see if he could split off new spell slots into a different spread of options. But all the delves the Order was doing were booked for a while, and he certainly wasn¡¯t going to go alone. ¡±Perfect!¡± James said, which got a puzzled look of synchronized raised eyebrows from his boyfriend. ¡°That means I can take you out to lunch! I¡¯ll trade you talking about Townton in exchange for you explaining what in the everloving fuck ¡®pretty much a landmine¡¯ means.¡± Anesh smiled back, two of him already moving to pack stuff back into the temporary storage box. ¡°Deal.¡± He said easily, happy to spend a little time with the guy he¡¯d fallen in love with. _____ When Anesh used pen and paper for notes, James thought it was cute. When the mormons he was meeting up with handed his four person delver team a printed sheaf of paper stapled together, it was offensive. Though it was possible, likely even, that James was just upset that he didn¡¯t have the option to abandon reading with his eye and check things with his skulljack. So while the two that had been assigned as the Order¡¯s guides silently fumed at each other for reasons that James was entirely prepared to ignore for the whole delve, he tried to keep himself from getting actually annoyed, and read what he¡¯d been given. None of it was maps, which was also annoying. Though there was a section about how maps of the structure - they only ever called it the structure, which meant he was excited to name it - degraded over time. And by ¡®time¡¯ they seemed to mean ¡®two to four days¡¯ so that was worrying. Sharing information was a challenge; speaking or typing stuff outside of the dungeon was actively stymied by physical revulsion. The packet he was reading was actually a smart workaround to their memetic problems; they¡¯d just brought a whole PC and printer setup into the dungeon and typed it there. Actually good problem solving, James approved. Now, the parking structure dungeon was awesome, but James had also wanted to see the garden today. But it seemed like there was a whole thing with the memeplex here that half the delvers of each dungeon didn¡¯t or couldn¡¯t acknowledge the other¡¯s existence. And that was a hell of a problem when they literally overlapped. James didn¡¯t know what caused it, and Zhu was still in hibernation, so he was relying on Planner and to a lesser extent Moon to keep the team from succumbing to a similar condition. ¡±So we¡¯re in and out? One hour on the clock?¡± Matt¡¯s question came from where he was helping Rho gear up, the canine bodied inhabitor standing still in a way that was unnatural for a dog while his delve partner tightened the straps of his heavily modified riot armor. ¡±One hour.¡± Ishah said, standing patiently with his back to a wall, the ratroach¡¯s lower arms cradling a shotgun that the Order had rescued from what used to be Townton¡¯s police station. ¡°We are here to search and scavenge and scout. And James is here too.¡± He added, adjusting the pair of headphones dangling from one of his belts. James ignored the comment except for cracking a smile as he read the documentation, partly keeping an eye on the other two humans that were shooting Ishah dirty looks that the ratroach was ignoring in favor of triple-checking his bandolier. It made reading hard, but he kept at it, because this was useful. The parking dungeon gave one known reward, and it was ability points. Okay, well, it was AP, but James assumed that meant ability points. He shouldn¡¯t do that. You got AP for completing milestones in the dungeon, and it was all rewarded as soon as a delver crossed back to Earth. Limit one milestone per delve, though there wasn¡¯t a rule about just looping yourself in and out, so that was¡­ weird. It felt lazy, but he wasn¡¯t going to say that out loud near the dungeon. The people who had experience here had a list of milestones that they knew of, and a rough approximation of the ¡®tech tree¡¯ that was required to unlock some of them. And James felt like they were holding out with this information they were sharing to the Order, because it felt super limited. There were things on the list for kills, using the machines in the dungeon, making it to a roof, and¡­ that was kind of it. Not really much else. And that felt like a lie, but he wasn¡¯t going to press on it. AP got spent as soon as you did something that went beyond what your current magical level in that thing was, and it gave you levels. Which seemed to be a lot like skill ranks in terms of power, but more broadly applicable. Except, of course, that you were highly likely to spend your first three to five AP on breathing just because that seemed like this dungeon¡¯s particular dirty trick. Actually getting anything special out of it would, James assumed, require dedicated and focused effort. Which the Order was already theorycrafting on. So the dungeon could suck it up, because they were going to get people levels in something useful, even if he had to stock the elevator itself with training tools and get people the orbs that made them not have to breathe. ¡°Alright! We¡¯re all set.¡± He said to one of their guides; a young man that was probably just barely eighteen who put off the vibe of someone who¡¯d been right at home in his church¡¯s secret program of thought sculpting. ¡°You two want to take point, or¡­ how are we doing this?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t want all of you behind me.¡± One of them said bluntly. James decided to confront this now, though he was still going to sigh about it. He made a point to scratch around the edge of his eyepatch as he shifted his stance slightly. ¡°So, part of me wants to be coy and ask if that means we¡¯re going first, but let¡¯s get this out of the way. Do you have an emotional problem with us that is going to keep this delve from going well? Because we can go by ourselves, it¡¯s okay. You don¡¯t need to participate. And I don¡¯t really want you to if you¡¯re going to be a dick.¡± ¡±No.¡± The younger one said with a firm conviction. ¡°General authority said we have an agreement with you. And a good son of God keeps their agreements.¡± His eyes flicked over to Ishah. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean I approve of you, or that I trust you to keep your side. For all I know, you¡¯re the reason we have demons among us now.¡± ¡±Oh, that!¡± James feigned cheerfulness. ¡°I¡¯m not, they were there already. If it¡¯s any consolation, I think they might have started as an infiltration of sorts, but at least half of them legitimately converted to your faith? I dunno if that makes you feel any better.¡± The young man scoffed at him. ¡±No? Why would it?¡± Before he could offer a reply, Matt chimed in, appearing at James¡¯ side in a sudden motion that made it seem like his normal walk was itself a violent action. ¡°Psalms. All the living look to you for food, and you open your hand to satisfy.¡± He shrugged, and James remembered that Matt himself was one of the more openly faithful members of the Order. ¡°You think God cares what his followers look like? I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯m not gonna pretend I make the rules.¡± ¡±That¡¯s different. They¡¯re demons.¡± ¡±They¡¯re things your bishops and authorities decided to call demons.¡± James pointed out. ¡°Also, this is¡­ not why either of us are here. I can understand your thoughts,¡± specifically he could understand the kid probably wasn¡¯t in full control of his own mind, ¡°but we can talk about it after if you want. For now¡­ how about we move in groups of three and you can give us pointers or directions as we move, okay?¡± That seemed to mollify the two for now, and honestly, that was all James really wanted. He¡¯d probably never see them again, and while he felt a lot of sympathy for what had been done to them, he didn¡¯t really have the ability to snap his fingers and give them the help they needed without restarting a fight that the Order might not be big enough to win. Though that was still a ¡®maybe¡¯. And part of this arrangement was that the Order would get put in closer contact to help their rogues evaluate if that was true. And if not, how to tip the scales. But that was for a tomorrow. Today was for exploring, and acquiring his second milestone from this place. The elevator dinged open, and hundreds of feet of sporadically marked concrete floor stretched away in either direction. Navigating through the chipped yellow paint of the bollards surrounding the elevator door, the group moved out into the dungeon. And instantly, James noticed a problem. His people, all of them people who had actively trained to delve, moved with a silent professionalism. He and Rho checked left, Ishah and Matt swept right, their shooters had their weapons out and ready but not aimed, their scrappers stayed just to their sides so that lesser threats could be handled without making the loudest possible noise, and all of them cleared the area in under five seconds before calling out that status of everything being good. The other two walked out and looked around like they were going on a trip to the mall. Casual motions, no preparation except whatever spells they had slotted that James didn¡¯t even know about. It was a sign of either complete confidence, or complete overconfidence, and judging by how they looked at the Order group with a mix of worry and confusion, James was pretty sure it was the worst of the two options. He didn¡¯t sigh again, because he needed to save his breath, and even here by the entrance the fumes of this place filled his nose with the smell of old diesel. ¡°Okay. Point us along a normal delve, and let¡¯s get going.¡± He said, clipping his filter mask into place. The two young guides double checked between themselves, and then took the party directly away from the direction that the stored human population in the dungeon was. Which James was fine with, but honestly, it was about ten miles of hard delving away, and they didn¡¯t need to bother. The skullduggery irritated him. The scenery made up for it. The halls of the parking garage went on for so long that every sight line was eventually blocked by concrete in some way. Pillars and low ceilings, barricades and dividing walls. But despite how much there was in the way, the place felt open to motion in a way that the Office never did. There were a lot of straight lines, a lot of hints in the corner of the eye to where you could take a turn and double back to see a whole different set of parked cars and painted lines on the floor. Outside, between black clouds of thick smog, distant towers of similar construction loomed. There was a ¡®ground¡¯ below them, but it was likely just the roof of a different structure, just like their roof was probably the ground for another larger column itself. The place felt like a world that had undergone an apocalypse and was just left to go on momentum without any people.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. And yet, there was still life. Or rather, there was life; James shoved aside the thought of it being a post-apocalyptic world. This was a dungeon, created wholesale and populated with things meant to live here. Things like the bounding deer-like creatures that he and Ishah watched with rapt eyes from their vantage point. Fifty feet below, the things had the dull texture of metal as the herd of them moved in bursts of motion across a skybridge between this structure and the one next to them. Hundreds of meters of open air with absolutely no railing for safety, and the quadrupeds seemed like they slid every time they touched down. The motions were terrifying even from the distance; the thought that they were one misstep from plunging off the edge to splatter on the concrete below was heart stopping. Matt had taken a look through his binoculars, and proclaimed that they had wheeled hooves. The metal texture was from the pipes and pistons of the engines that made up their main bodies and the headlights that were their heads, with all of them held in place with some kind of black substance. Not, he was quick to point out, asphalt. Just in case anyone thought they would have a get-out-of-combat-free card with those. James decided to call them caribou. Emphasis on the car. They kept moving, hiking up the gentle slope of a ramp as they moved through the interior of the structure toward an upper level, passing a score of huge painted numbers on the wall. No one had ever parked here, and no one ever would, but if they did at least they¡¯d have a guide to find their car. At one point they found a piece of wall graffiti, between a sign written in aggressive Spanish declaring that anyone who did not pay the parking fees would be towed, and a set of pipes that came from the ceiling and went into the floor and that James was pretty sure didn¡¯t go anywhere at all or contain anything. The graffiti looked authentically human, though. In green and black spray paint, it gave a quick warning about radiation in the area, centered on a big old classic warning sigil for nuclear waste. The two guides insisted it was just one of the random things the dungeon put there, but James wasn¡¯t prepared to take their word on it, and besides, a portable Geiger counter fit in a pouch and was a standard part of the Order¡¯s delver kit anyway since the Akashic Sewer existed. Five minutes later, there was no sign of anything radioactive, and James got an ¡®I told you so¡¯ from someone who objectively should be more worried about cancer than he was. It was on the next level of the garage up that they were attacked. Up until that point, they¡¯d encountered a few hostile traffic cones, and hidden as a pair of aggressive tires had rolled by, but nothing too dangerous. This, though, was something unexpected, and more importantly, planned. The air was so still that James felt the disturbance in it as soon as the projectile was in motion. He didn¡¯t really process why he was doing it, only that he was reflexively twitching his head to the side, and that something had just passed him by. Behind him, the badly shaped bolt hit a car window and shattered glass, while Matt and Rho were already in motion to take cover behind a slightly off color truck. The missed shot wasn¡¯t followed up with any more. Instead, a series of battle cries that sounded like a child trying to mimic a car horn sounded from around them, and a cluster of short black furred figures burst out of suddenly opening car doors or from out of the back of pickup truck beds. James had about two seconds to process that they looked a lot like humanoid rats before one of them tried to hit him in the head with a tire iron. There was a flurry of violence around him as he slapped the attack aside, the rat landing in a deft roll to his side as its leap failed to cause any damage. Undeterred, that particular attacker kept up its running pace, heading straight for the next delver in the path of its momentum. James was a little distracted by the next one that tried to capitalize on the distraction to hit him from the side, but if he¡¯d kept watching, he would have seen the rat falter before taking a swing at Ishah, confusion playing across the smoky orbs of its eyes before it doubled down and engaged the ratroach. ¡±Run!¡± One of the kids yelled, the two guides who had been hanging back breaking into a sprint as the first of them turned and bolted for where the slope of the ramp left a gap. His maneuver was awkward, but he managed to wedge himself past a car and hopped the concrete barricade so he could drop back down to the next lower ramp segment. James didn¡¯t run. Instead he caught the wrist of the rat that was trying to spear him with a sharpened pipe, and pivoted, moving with his hips as forcefully as he could without aggravating his still-healing injuries to pin the creature to the floor and hold it in place as it struggled. Claws from all four paws scratching ineffectively at his armor as it started screaming, and the rest of the pack snapped their attention away from the people they were trying to hit to swarm toward James in an instant. His brain said pack, but his eye said there were three of them. Plus one that was unconscious or dead that had tussled with Matt and failed to come out on top. James kept one hand on the chest of his captive, and expended Breath to make himself a thick ice arm that he used to grapple the first one to get to him. It pulled on his body, but he resisted being tackled and instead threw the rat attacker backward, letting Rho bound after it while it was dazed as he dealt with the next two. Pave to the first one in the stomach, black fur erupting in a sudden and unexpected burst of soot or maybe dust as James hit it with the spell. The next one almost got to him when Matt¡¯s gloved hand snagged around its howling muzzle and jerked it violently to the side, his other fist coming around to slam into its body repeatedly until he swept its legs with a kick and threw it to the ground. The one James was pinning was still screaming, and he let his arm melt away as he looked down at it. ¡°Please stop that?¡± He asked nicely, slowly letting the pressure off of it. The rat scampered backward, legs seeming to shift their joints as it rotated itself and bolted, grabbing one of the more conscious other creatures before fleeing over the edge of the structure. James and Ishah called out panicked wordless yells as the two creatures rolled over the concrete barrier and into open air, the ratroach slinging his gun low as he ran for the edge after them. But when he got there, the two were gone. Not gone as in turned into paste on the ground below, but just missing, having escaped to a lower tier of the garage somehow. Matt helped James up as he looked around at the unconscious ratling monsters that had ambushed them. ¡°So¡­ do we take prisoners, or what?¡± He asked. ¡±I mean, I want to say yes, but¡­¡± James winced as he stood, his knee twinging in pain. He gave Matt a short glance, biting his lip as he tried not to wince for a second reason. ¡°Let¡¯s make sure none of them are dying, and let them get back to their people. They¡¯re obviously smart, and care about each other, which is¡­¡± ¡±Not new.¡± Ishah said as he rejoined them, Moon¡¯s light shining from behind his neck as his infomorph companion partially manifested. ¡°But uncommon? They seemed confused by me.¡± ¡±Bodes ill.¡± Rho added as he nosed one of the downed rats that was playing dead. ¡°It means they are used to fighting humans, likely for bad reasons.¡± James nodded. ¡°Aaaaaaand our guides are gone. For also likely bad reasons. Dammitall, this was supposed to be a scouting mission.¡± Everyone sighed in unison, though all of them for slightly different reasons. It took them a couple minutes to carefully collect the unconscious rats and make sure they weren¡¯t going to get spotted or run over by a car in the middle of the floor. Not that cars drove here, but it was an intrusive thought James had, so they got them laying down in the bed of a pickup. Taking the opportunity to examine them while he checked their injuries, James found them to be a weird kind of humanoid. Very stubby arms, with almost no reach or leverage, but tight muscles all along their bodies. They were like a creature made out of a powerful torso and built out from there. Their fur was definitely not black naturally, or at least, not this black; his hands were stained with soot by the time they were done. No tails though, except for a stubby little bristle of fur that was more like wire at the base of their bodies. And despite how aggressive they were, and how much force they¡¯d put into their strikes despite their physical limits, they still seemed thin and underfed. The group, about to leave the dungeon anyway, left the majority of their emergency food supply in the pickup along with the non-captives. Matt argued that they shouldn¡¯t be feeding their enemies, and everyone else had just stared at him until he¡¯d admitted that even he knew he was being an idiot. Ten minutes later, they caught up to the guides near the entrance. ¡±Oh, you survived the goblins?¡± One of them asked as James rounded the corner. He was lurking behind a pillar, clearly intending to ambush someone if he needed to, but perhaps not expecting the whole Order party to confidently walk back. ¡°Those things are so ugly and gross.¡± ¡±Ugly?¡± Matt asked with raised eyebrows. ¡±¡­Goblins.¡± Ishah said in a lightly chittering voice. ¡±Security goblins.¡± The other guide confirmed. ¡°Or lot goblins, if you want. Because they used to scream about tolls to pass a lot of the time. And cause, you know, they¡¯re ugly little guys.¡± James just stared at them, a firm sense of disappointment hardening in his chest. ¡°Hey, how did you guys survive as delvers if that kind of ambush is a problem?¡± He asked. ¡°Do you normally have bigger groups?¡± The kid shrugged, talking coming a little easier as the adrenaline had shaken him open a bit. ¡°Sometimes. The church has people that are¡­ uh¡­ more military, if we need to fight something to get to a place. We come in by ourselves all the time, we just do a lot of running. I guess some kinds of people don¡¯t have to worry about that.¡± Once again he shot a small glare at Ishah. The ratroach was previously willing to ignore a lot of the human¡¯s barely veiled hostility, but right now, he just didn¡¯t feel like it, and he knew that no one would stop him if he decided to shoot this particular human in the knees. But he didn¡¯t. Instead, Ishah met the human¡¯s eyes and made a show of blinking all of his own eyes in sequence, which he knew many people found unsettling. ¡°I am familiar with running.¡± He said, struggling to keep his voice casual. ¡°I spent my whole life running. Because if I was caught, I would die. It is good you know the value of running away.¡± He was pretty sure he didn¡¯t keep his voice from wavering, but it was hard to hear. The guide stared at Ishah, face going from shocked to angry, before James cleared his throat and decided to make sure that didn¡¯t go any farther. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a threat.¡± He told the kid. ¡°Ishah is way too nice to threaten you.¡± He considered letting it go unsaid that he wasn¡¯t that nice. Then he realized he was tipping over the level of annoyed required to spur him to say something hostile. ¡°But I¡¯m not, though, again, I don¡¯t really want to have this conversation. Let¡¯s¡­ just get out of here. Everyone good to head out?¡± ¡±I mean, this was pretty light exercise.¡± Matt said, dusting off his knuckles in what he almost certainly felt was a cool pose. ¡°I could do another one?¡± ¡±We¡¯ll see what the plan is when we get out.¡± James sighed. The elevator ride out was the kind of tense that would have set off James¡¯ anxiety if the tension came from people he respected or felt had any kind of power to do anything to him. Instead, it was just a little boring, and he couldn¡¯t wait to see what milestone he got, and how quickly he leveled up his breathing again. The really funny thing was, leveling up breathing was actually just great for the Order. Part of this scouting delve was that they were also doing incremental testing with Matt and Ishah and their own use and collection of Breath from the Climb. James knew it helped, but they wanted to know exactly how much, and in what ways. This dungeon¡¯s dirty trick was the Order¡¯s boon. The doors dinged open, and the quick glance inside a world of concrete and smog ended with an alien thought broadcast into his brain. (Milestone - Initiation Skirmish : +1 AP) James tried to feel for the AP settling into his body somewhere, or if it was a presence he could sense somehow. But it was a seemingly invisible presence, less detectable even than the Library¡¯s species ranks. And the lack of any reaction from the magic told him that, if nothing else, the dungeon didn¡¯t consider ¡®sensing his own magic¡¯ to be a skill he could learn. So he moved on to the next thing he was supposed to test, and took a deep breath, feeling the fresher air fill his lungs with a pleasant stretch. (Breathing : +1 Level, 2 Levels total) (1 AP spent, 0 AP remains) Well that confirmed several things. They got to know their total level in a skill, each level only took a single AP, and most importantly, the couple of normal breaths he¡¯d taken hadn¡¯t been enough to get him the next level. So it did get harder with each step up the ladder, which was classic, and also very helpful. Because that meant that after long enough, someone would stop leveling up in inhalation, and could move on to more important stuff. Unless the breathing was what they really needed, obviously. But James figured that if someone really needed it that bad, then breathing would be enough of a challenge that they¡¯d get their level ups easily enough. Tagging out for another exploratory delver, James headed home. He really was kinda just there to get early confirmation of some of the magic, and he wanted to report on that, and let the others get deeper in on their own. He was also pretty sure Matt was desperate to level up in punching, and while he wished him luck, James was just too damn sore to do anything more than find somewhere in the Lair that was comfortable to sit down for an hour or ten. _____ The Lair¡¯s living quarters hadn¡¯t been improved yet, but the excessive amount of yellow tape and measurement markings on the walls as James entered made him think it was about to be. His own architectural ability gave him a little insight into it, but a lot of it was orange totem based stuff that he didn¡¯t have a mastery of. Either way, the increasingly impressive underground garden was doing well, and there were a lot of people who were hanging out or moving through the space on their way to or from homes. The fact that they were going to need to have a day where they moved everyone¡¯s furniture out and then back in again just so the construction team could improve on the blueprint was a little awkward, but it was less awkward than being stuck with a design that didn¡¯t work, unable to start over because of the sunk cost. For once, he wasn¡¯t here to critique design though, or to meet people in the miniature park and talk about their career futures. Instead, James was here for a much more personal reason. He had only just begun to knock lightly on one of the apartment doors, still feeling a little weird about how closely compressed all the doors in this building were to each other, when Keeka pulled his front door open and stared up at James. The slim ratroach was less injured than James still was. When Keeka had remade his body, he¡¯d shown an absurd amount of trust in how he¡¯d taken away a lot of the ways a ratroach had to hurt people. No sharp edges, no corrosive blood, no spines, even his teeth had been modified to be more in line with a true omnivore. But trust didn¡¯t mean he was stupid, and he¡¯d done nothing to interfere with just how fast ratroaches could heal from damage. Apparently it hurt a lot, because of course it did, but it also meant that since getting shot through the throat hadn¡¯t killed him, he had already shed the worst of the injury. He still didn¡¯t want to talk too much though; his voice wasn¡¯t fully back to normal. But he greeted James as the human arrived. ¡°Y-you¡¯re here!¡± He rasped excitedly, repressing a wince. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡±Doing better.¡± James answered softly as he passed Keeka to get inside and had the door shut and locked behind him on familiar reflex. ¡°You¡¯re looking good yourself!¡± He smiled as Keeka started to turn a shade of emerald, adding, ¡°For someone who got shot, not¡­ I mean, you are still cute, I just¡­ holy shit I didn¡¯t even get a full sentence into this conversation before I fell apart.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t mind.¡± Keeka¡¯s grin was a blue glowing arc in the dim light of his living room, though he moved around turning on lamps as James came in, revealing a space that was in a bit of disarray. Not messy, exactly, but James was familiar with the process where something would get set down along with the mental promise to ¡®put it away properly later¡¯ and then that just wouldn¡¯t happen for long enough that things became static. There was a little brass urn thing with a cluster of purple orbs in it, a pair of framed posters leaning up against the arm of the couch that hadn¡¯t been hung up yet, and at least three pairs of headphones hanging on different pieces of furniture. ¡°Glad you¡¯re here.¡± Keeka said, before choking back a cough and scrambling into the kitchen to get himself water. James started to reach after the ratroach, before smiling as Keeka deftly flipped a cup into one of his paws, filled it, and drank the entire thing in a single motion. He was still clearly injured and hurting, but it seemed like that wasn¡¯t even close to enough to slow down the energy that he¡¯d picked up from his adaptation to his new body and also his time healing with the Order. ¡°Yeah, sorry I didn¡¯t come by earlier? I mean, I know you said that¡­ we should give Arrush space and everything. But I still feel bad about it.¡± Keeka made a single sharp squeak at him that actually got a surprised jump out of James. ¡°No!¡± He added, trying to breathe in a way that didn¡¯t make the inside of his throat itch, which he¡¯d been failing at all day. ¡°He did need space. But now he needs to stop needing space.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t think that¡¯s¡­¡± James didn¡¯t know how to explain why he thought that was wrong, but it felt like the kind of thing where Keeka might not actually know what Arrush needed, and maybe James should have been paying more attention to the people who were so new and didn¡¯t deserve to get hurt like this. But he didn¡¯t want to say that out loud, partly because Keeka did actually know Arrush far closer than James did, no matter how much James liked them both, and also because they¡¯d clearly proven they could both make their own choices. So instead, he let his words trail off before giving a weak smile. ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± He settled on. Keeka seemed to sense that James was still definitely worried, and he let his own anxiety slip back in as he looked down the short all to the door of the bedroom he shared with his love. ¡°Also¡­ also he w-won¡¯t come out.¡± He said in a thin voice, like he was forcing himself to stay as upbeat as possible. ¡°But you¡¯re here. He¡¯ll listen to you.¡± ¡±¡­he isn¡¯t listening to you?¡± He asked Keeka, alarmed and concealing it badly. ¡±He¡­¡± Keeka set the cup he was holding into his apartment¡¯s sink, the glass rattling slightly as his paw shook. ¡°He can¡¯t believe me. He thinks I¡¯ll say anything to make him feel better. And I would. But he thinks he¡¯s broken all over again, and I¡¯m not good at telling people they aren¡¯t.¡± Keeka ran his right two paws across his angled muzzle, scratching at his chitin as he tried to remember to breathe steadily. ¡°And¡­ he¡¯s worried about you.¡± James raised his eyebrows, the motion no longer hurting that much, even though his eyepatch covered most of one of them. ¡°I¡¯m fine though.¡± He said. And really, that was reassuring; if Arrush was worried about him, that was at least one thing James could fix by just being here. ¡±N-no.¡± Keeka¡¯s small bark of laughter was darkly humored. ¡°He¡¯s worried you won¡¯t like him.¡± ¡±Well that¡¯s dumb.¡± James couldn¡¯t keep from saying. Keeka made a waving shrug with his lower two hands. ¡±I kept telling him. Also he can probably hear you.¡± He tilted his muzzle at the bedroom door. ¡±Then he can know I think that¡¯s dumb.¡± James doubled down. He¡¯d hoped to get a laugh from Keeka, but instead he just got a shake of the head, the smaller ratroach scratching idly at the black fur on his bare arms. ¡°He isn¡¯t interested in eating or sleeping or even sex. Deb said he n-needed time. But I¡¯m worried, and¡­ can you talk to him?¡± ¡±Of course.¡± James said, followed by a surprised oof as Keeka lunged forward to grab him in a hug. ¡°Also next time¡­ if there is a next time¡­ feel free to ask me sooner, you know? I wasn¡¯t doing anything important.¡± He shook his head as Keeka muttered something about everything being important into his shirt. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll go see how he¡¯s doing.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Keeka squeaked, pressing against James tightly before letting go and slinking back into the kitchen to get more water. James headed down the short apartment hall. Their bedroom door had a small wooden sign on it, hung with twine and carved with words that had been burned into it. It was simple, just their names, and it seemed a little weird since they lived in their own apartment. But despite that, James found it cute, and he knocked just under it. ¡°Hey Arrush. You awake?¡± There was the sound of motion from inside the room. James hadn¡¯t wanted to just barge in, that was a stern violation of his rule that people¡¯s private spaces in their homes were theirs unless he got invited in. Or if he was spying on a cult. Which¡­ seemed to happen a lot actually. But that was a secondary concern to the sound of the bedroom¡¯s door rattling as something pressed against it, and then a voice that sounded very much like Arrush saying ¡°No.¡± ¡±¡­You¡¯re pretty ambulatory for a guy who¡¯s asleep.¡± James offered casually. ¡°Keeka, does Arrush sleepwalk?¡± ¡±No. But! He does sometimes¡­¡± Keeka trailed off, a tinge of green around his eyes and a distant smile on his face. ¡°¡­you¡¯ll find out eventually.¡± He finished, looking away from James. ¡±Okay ominous.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Arrush, I just wanna make sure you¡¯re okay.¡± He said. ¡°I know you got hurt pretty badly, and that Deb had to¡­ that you might look different. But I don¡¯t care, and I wanna be sure you¡¯re alright, okay?¡± ¡±I¡¯m fine.¡± The voice was steady, more clear than Arrush¡¯s usual hoarse rasp was, and almost musical. ¡°Please leave.¡± But it still held a deep uncertainty and fear. James was not going to do that. ¡°In a bit. But I really do wanna check on you.¡± ¡±I¡¯m fine.¡± The words held more heat than he¡¯d ever heard from Arrush. ¡°You don¡¯t need to¡­ to¡­¡± Arrush¡¯s new voice finally broke, and there was a thump followed by a scrape as he slid down against the door to thump again into the floor. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be here.¡± He added with thick words. Pulling his hand back from the door, James took a deep breath, and then turned and sat down in the hallway, feeling the door shift slightly in the frame as he set his own back against it. He couldn¡¯t exactly feel Arrush on the other side, but he could feel the door move when he heard Arrush shift, and he knew his boyfriend was there. ¡°I should have been here earlier, and I¡¯m sorry.¡± He said. ¡°Maybe this would be easier if I¡¯d just been with you when you woke up. But I do want to be here. Of course I do.¡± He gave a blind reassurance. There was a long silence, long enough that Keeka started idly pacing back and forth at the end of the hall and giving James a dizzy feeling just from watching him pace. Eventually Arrush found his voice and spoke, partly stumbling over words not because of his body this time but because of how he felt. ¡°I hate this.¡± His voice, muffled through the wooden barrier of the door, was still clearly audible to James¡¯ enhanced hearing. ¡°What I am. I was supposed to¡­ I was going to¡­ I should be something else. And now I¡¯m trapped. It was easy to be trapped when it was my choice, but now it¡¯s not. I¡­ let everyone down. Ffffucked it all up.¡± The last words were said with a wet sniff and the shaking impression of a sob. The idea that Arrush was despondent because of his body was something James hadn¡¯t really put together properly. He¡¯d understood it was because of the fight and because of his treatment, but he¡¯d been tunnel visioned on the wrong thing, and hadn¡¯t understood. Hadn¡¯t really processed the fact that Arrush couldn¡¯t use the shaper substance again, and whatever Deb had left him as to save his life, that was it. For now anyway. And he¡¯d been here, without James, without anyone else but Keeka, worrying that he¡¯d failed them all because his body was going to be wrong somehow. James had the intrusive thought to call Arrush an idiot, and he bit down on that hard. Because while that was sort of what he was thinking, that was almost never what someone actually needed to hear. So instead, he composed his thoughts, and then started to speak. ¡±I know you¡¯re feeling off balance, and confused, and hurt.¡± James said, staring down at his hands and the one new scar he¡¯d restarted his collection with. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you feel like you should stay away from people, or if you¡¯re punishing yourself, or if you¡¯re just afraid of anyone reacting to you. And I guess I don¡¯t really need to know. It¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s not what¡¯s important to me.¡± He looked up to where Keeka was standing at the end of the hall, the slight little ratroach with his skirt bunched up in his paws seeming uncertain if he should be listening at all until James gave him a reassuring smile. ¡°Arrush, I love you. I¡¯m new at it, but to me, when I say that, it doesn¡¯t mean I only love you if it¡¯s convenient. I wasn¡¯t expecting anything out of you; not with your life and certainly not with your changed body. You can¡¯t disappoint me, or scare me away.¡± James took a heavy breath, and shifted forward, sore legs obediently pushing him upright. ¡°I¡¯ll never force anything out of you. But I want you to know that when you¡¯re ready, I¡¯ll be here for you, no matter how long it takes. I just also want you to know that you don¡¯t have to think there¡¯s some required time before it¡¯s okay. Literally whenever your ready, whether that¡¯s next week or right now, I¡¯ll-¡° Abruptly, there was a fumbled scratching on the other side of the door. And then a loud click, followed by the handle being frantically yanked down. The smooth wood of the door was pulled open in a short motion before hitting Arrush¡¯s leg where he was still on the floor, one of his arms fumbling upward to get the obstruction out of the way. He looked up at James from where he was sprawled partly on his hands and knees on the bedroom¡¯s floor. His face was streaked with drying lines of glowing blue that ran in channels down the chitin and fur of his muzzle; he¡¯d been crying, a lot, but all that James could think was that it wasn¡¯t sizzling and burning. Dressed in just a pair of ratroach fitted sweatpants, it was clear that his body was exactly as asymmetrical as it had been before. Three extra arms that split off from him, from the back of his torso or the one from near his shoulder, one of them still in the process of regrowing from having been vaporized. Ridged plates of asymmetrical chitin that fused with his hide in awkward places making him look like a patchwork golem of parts. All of his eyes seemed like they wanted to watch James for a reaction, but that he was terrified to actually see how the human would respond to him. So he stared at the wall by James¡¯ head, and spoke in his healed voice that sounded like a distant string instrument. ¡°I can¡¯t change anymore, and I am still a monster, and no one cares, and¡­ and¡­¡± That was worth cutting him off over. ¡°Arrush, you haven¡¯t been a monster the whole time I¡¯ve known you.¡± James said, faltering in a nervous half step forward. ¡°If you don¡¯t like how you look, then we¡¯ll fucking figure something out. But if you think that I needed you to be conventionally attractive to the average human, that¡¯s¡­ I mean, come on. You¡¯ve been cute the whole time I¡¯ve been dating you. That¡¯s how my brain works.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I said!¡± Keeka chimed in. ¡°You have always been beautiful. And now you don¡¯t melt things, so you are more practically beautiful and the couch is safe!¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know how reassuring that is, but-¡° James started to say, before Arrush, chest heaving with sobs he didn¡¯t understand the source of or know how to stop, lunged off the floor in a fluid and painless motion, and grabbed him in a crushing hug. The towering ratroach still wearing most of the body that had been made and refined repeatedly to kill things - to kill James specifically actually - holding on with careful claws and crying his eyes out. And James just wrapped his arms around Arrush, motioning frantically with his hand for Keeka to join him and to let Arrush let his fears and anxieties out in the hope that maybe things would be better afterward. He stood there in the doorway with them for a while, until eventually Arrush sniffed and found that he just couldn¡¯t cry anymore, and that he felt a little silly. ¡±Hi.¡± James said with a soft smile and a hand running down the back of Arrush¡¯s neck. ¡±¡­Hi.¡± Arrush whispered, finding speech to be far too easy. ¡±Keeka says you haven¡¯t been eating properly, and I feel obliged to tell you that somehow, our kitchen now has a bakery in its upstairs, and that there is some really fucking good fresh bread and a chicken soup available right now.¡± James ran his hands down Arrush¡¯s back, fingers scratching lightly through fur and across chitin alike. ¡°Would you like to come with us and get lunch?¡± Arrush had thought that he wouldn¡¯t. That he would hate to be seen at all, that he wanted to be alone forever. That he should be alone forever. But to his own surprise, the prospect of leaving the bedroom didn¡¯t seem so bad anymore. And soup did sound nice. At least, his stomach thought so; the sensation of hunger without the burning acidic pain that came with it would take some getting used to. He looked at James and Keeka in turn, his longer term boyfriend giving him an expectant and hopeful stare that he quickly tried to hide with a small eep, while the human just remained close and offering comfort. ¡°¡­I would like soup.¡± He said in the voice he was also going to have to get used to being him. ¡±Excellent!¡± James smiled and stepped back, looking him up and down with a smile that was painfully genuine. ¡°Now. I know this might be too soon, but? An upside? All your shirts are going to still fit. That¡¯s gotta count for something!¡± ¡±¡­You are the worst at this.¡± Arrush told him with a nod. And there, he had told his first lie with this new voice. Because while the base fact of what James had said didn¡¯t count for anything¡­ it being James that said it did. The undercurrent of love that ran through every word that both his partners said counted. Made him feel like he counted. Arrush found one of those shirts that fit, and went with them to eat. Chapter 301 ¡°This tape will self destruct. Over a period of several hundred years. Entropy comes for us all. Good luck.¡± -Andrew Cownden, Dice Friends Fang & Claw- _____ ¡°This way, this way!¡± Momo moved down the hallway with a lot more fluid grace than she had possessed a week ago. James followed in her exuberant wake, glad that she had been bullied into shaper substance physics therapy by El and Deb working in alliance, but wishing she could maybe slow it down just a bit. He was healing nicely, and was almost ready to go back out on some kind of paladin operation that wasn¡¯t just him sneaking into easy delve teams. But he didn¡¯t want to dodge between the people and storage boxes and various extra objects that lined the hallways of the Research basement. He wanted to walk at a normal speed, and trade small talk with the camraconda and human engineers and testers that he was only sort of familiar with as individuals. ¡±She seems excited.¡± Paper-And-Words commented with a slight narrowing of its camera eye. ¡°You should follow. I must return to using furniture.¡± ¡±Yeah, have a good one.¡± James sighed. ¡°Ping me if you figure out what that chair does.¡± The camraconda nodded like a bow, and it and James both moved on. And James was rapidly beginning to feel like he should just kind of spend more free time wandering around down here, because it was really cool to see the slow evolution of Research into a professional operation complete with employee information posters hanging on the wall. And these ones, unlike the ones James remembered from past jobs or the Office itself, weren¡¯t random, had decent layouts and bold keywords, and provided real useful information. It was neat. He was trying to speed read one about proper procedure for transporting anything that broke like orbs when he almost ran into someone moving a hand cart with some kind of gas canister in it down toward the elevator. James apologized to the exhausted looking guy, and paid more attention, shaking his head as he picked up his own pace and tried to keep up with Momo. Which might have been a mistake. At least she kept hopping back and forth on her toes when she got to corners, waiting for James like he was the slow player avatar in a classically bad escort quest. ¡°Keep up old man!¡± She yelled back at him, reinforcing that exact thought in James¡¯ head. ¡±Momo¡­ slow the fuck¡­ down.¡± James caught his breath as he chased after her, leaning on the corner of the concrete wall and being too out of breath at this point to even flinch when one of the local potted plants drooped a vine down behind him to tap him on the shoulder. ¡°Not now Tyrannadonny. I¡¯m¡­ plotting a murder.¡± The potted plant, less potted now and more a sprawling mass of vines that hung out on the overhead ventilation pipes down here, gave him a sympathetic pat before retreating and leaving him to it. When she finally got to the room she¡¯d been using, and James followed her inside, he felt like he¡¯d run about a mile, and he was definitely feeling the lack of stamina he had when his life wasn¡¯t in danger. Endurance was such a weird stat, he wished it worked more for him when he wasn¡¯t bleeding. ¡±Behold!¡± Momo said, not giving him a single moment to rest. She threw her arms wide, the fuzzy and statically charged material of her black bathrobe hanging from her wrists and making her look like a wizard about to turn someone into an undesirable reptile. ¡°My grand penguin!¡± James took a few deep breaths, chest rising and falling with the ache of healing muscles, before he rose up to his normal posture and dusted his hands off. ¡±Your¡­ magnum opus?¡± He asked, looking past Momo to where a surprisingly large red orb totem had been assembled, looking like a solar system model if the solar system had a few hundred extra planets and no sense of self control. ¡°Okay, I get that reference, but why do you get that reference? You¡¯re a baby.¡± ¡±I¡¯m twenty six!¡± ¡±A decade younger than me-¡° ¡±That¡¯s not even true! I know how old you are, because of¡­ uh¡­ totem stuff probably.¡± Momo worried at the inside of her cheek, not sure why she did know that piece of James-based trivia. ¡°Anyway I had to clear this room out to use it, and it was one of those basement rooms that spawned like this was a real basement. So it had a bunch of storage boxes in it, and one of them had a ton of comic books.¡± She gave him a proud look. ¡°I also took a vacation, I just spent mine reading Calvin and Hobbes and Bloom County.¡± James gave an appreciating nod. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s cool.¡± He agreed. ¡°So what¡¯s your opus and why does it look like a totem several times the size of anything I¡¯m comfortable being nearby?¡± Momo rolled her eyes at him, finally dropping her arms and feeling rather put out by the lack of excitement. ¡°It¡¯s a red totem.¡± She said, trying to keep in mind that James often bantered with people this way, and he probably didn¡¯t intend to make her feel like she¡¯d been wasting her life. Time. Wasting her time. ¡°But it¡¯s cooler. I made it cooler.¡± ¡±Is it going to kill me?¡± He eyed it suspiciously as he shut the room¡¯s door behind him, looking at where Momo had marked circles on the floor in duct tape; two of them focused on the base of the large totem itself with a gap in the middle, and then four other smaller circles that were placed around the outside that currently had chairs in them. ¡±Holy shit, no one has any faith in me.¡± Momo muttered, a little too loud. ¡°No it¡¯s not gonna kill you. It¡¯s¡­ I made a calculator. That¡¯s it.¡± Her shoulders slumped, but she still moved to wheel out the big standing whiteboard that she¡¯d covered in math. She¡¯d asked one of the Anesh to do it, but he¡¯d said something annoyed and British when her totem wouldn¡¯t do more than the most basic algebra, so she¡¯d done it herself. ¡°It¡¯s also targeted, which is why it¡¯s big I guess. Only broadcasts to those circles. Oh, don¡¯t get close to it.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I dunno. It makes it easier to absorb red orbs. That¡¯s it. Sorry, I thought this was cool.¡± James watched her as an uncomfortable tension built in the room, eyes widening with sympathy. ¡°Momo, are you doing alright? Shit, I¡¯m sorry, I wasn¡¯t trying to¡­¡± ¡±Yeah, no, it¡¯s fine.¡± Momo waved him off rapidly, not turning around from her math boards. ¡°Just a bad anxiety day.¡± ¡±I¡¯m not trying to shit on your totem work.¡± James told her bluntly. ¡°A lot of what you make is the closest we get to magic magic around here.¡± ¡±But?¡± Momo turned with a small smile, the motion concealing that she wiped the corner of her eye with the edge of her bathrobe sleeve. James tried for a little banter. ¡°But also your totems cause brain damage sometimes?¡± He ventured. Momo signed, swinging an arm around just so she could feel herself move, and nearly wiping half the whiteboard¡¯s words out with a careless flick of her wrist. ¡°I guess.¡± She said morosely. ¡°Kinda feel bad about that too, cause, like, I¡¯ve been working on it. But yeah, I¡¯m fine. Bad anxiety day I guess.¡± ¡±I¡¯m sorry, that always fucking sucks.¡± James offered his condolences. ¡°I¡¯ll try to be- no, I can do better than that. I¡¯ll be less of a dick. Full stop. So, this makes absorbing reds easier?¡± ¡±Oh, yeah. It¡¯s basically that thing that Juan and Ink-And-Key figured out where you can hypnotize someone and make them do math problems, except this is easier and faster. I was trying to make one that would put a whole book in your head.¡° As soon as Momo started talking about her plans she immediately reminded both James and herself why people were constantly worried about her totem projects. ¡°Safely, obviously!¡± She protested the unspoken question. ¡°I thought it would be useful for the Utah dungeon spells!¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, I could see that. They do seem to categorically count as ¡®books¡¯, anyway. At least as far as that blue power to organize books is concerned.¡± James huffed once. ¡°Yeah, maybe keep trying for that?¡± ¡±I will. Nik said I should be careful and not ¡®cause an extinction event¡¯ or something.¡± she put air quotes around the words, scowling at an imagined Nik. ¡°Anyway this does technically help. We have a few copied reds - not a lot but a few - and two of them actually help with the spellbooks. It¡¯s stupid, but if you hit them with certain interrogations, it lets you ¡®read¡¯ the spell faster. Like, seconds faster, but whatever.¡± James shrugged, willing to take a win where he could get it. Seconds added up after all, especially if these were things they were going to be folding into the Order¡¯s tactical doctrine. ¡°That¡¯s neat, but the spell totem would be neater. But, like¡­ be safe about it? I don¡¯t know how you test this stuff, but please be careful.¡± ¡±It¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m the digital team; they¡¯re working on a stable arcane AI - an AAI if you will - and one of their actual target goals is getting it spell slots. So watch out for that!¡± Momo dismissed his concerns, the manic giggle she gave absolutely not helping her case, or instilling faith in the programmers working on digital life. ¡°Oh, also? Name the fucking Utah dungeons already! There¡¯s two of them, I assume the books come from the plant one, and I wanna name one of them! This is important!¡± She stomped softly, the sound of her foot slapping on the floor making James squint as he noticed she was barefoot in the one part of the Lair where that was probably actively dangerous. ¡°To¡­ to me. It matters to me.¡± ¡°Really?¡± He asked. ¡°Like, do you have ideas?¡± She hadn¡¯t expected to get this far, and nothing had popped into her head so far, but that didn¡¯t deter Momo. ¡°Not yet! Look, I didn¡¯t get to name the Climb cause I got out-heroiced on that one by a teenager and the power of love or some shit, but I wanna name one of these! Rho doesn¡¯t care and Ink-And-Key said I can have his vote! You got to name too many already, so I¡¯ll split the naming job with Arrush and Keeka! That sounds good, right?¡± ¡±What about Anesh?¡± ¡±Anesh is British, he¡¯s culturally named half the planet!¡± Momo threw her arms up, anxiety temporarily put aside in favor of being indignant about colonialism. James wasn¡¯t gonna let that one go without comment though. ¡°Anesh¡¯s heritage, in case the name didn¡¯t tip you off, is Indian¡­ soooo¡­¡± He met Momo¡¯s eyes, clearing his throat. ¡°I think maybe we should give him the option and not talk about cultural theft?¡± ¡±Oh. Right. I forgot.¡± ¡±How?¡± ¡±I dunno, he was talking about cricket earlier and I kinda don¡¯t¡­ uh¡­ look at people that often? And I¡¯ve heard the name Anesh so much it¡¯s easy to not think about where it¡¯s from or anything.¡± Momo sighed deeply and dropped into one of the chairs she¡¯d set up, apparently either showing that the totem was currently off or that she didn¡¯t care that she was getting calculator answers in her head. ¡°I just wanna name a dungeon.¡± She admitted. ¡±I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± James shook his head, smiling. ¡°Good thought on the spellbook thing though. I guess we have more of those now. I should really go check on that?¡± ¡±You haven¡¯t? Come on.¡± Momo groaned at him. ¡°Even I¡¯m not that lazy. And you stole the fucking things! You should be plundering the shit out of our new library!¡± ¡°¡­Just tell me what we got.¡± James said, sitting in the chair one arc from her, suddenly knowing the answer to a lot of algebra equations, and standing up again to move the chair all in one fluid motion. ¡°Or I guess I could look it up?¡± ¡±Yeah, it¡¯s all in the database now. Or the ones we can use anyway. Uh¡­ we¡¯re only using the ones we can verify, since none of us have level three or up slots.¡± Momo rubbed the back of her neck, massaging away the pain from where she¡¯d slammed into the edge of her bed after falling out of it when she¡¯d tried to test one of the level three spells. ¡°Anyway¡­¡± James was already scanning the list through his skulljack braid, his comfort with wearing the piece of augmenting tech having grown to the point that it reminded him of when he used to wear glasses. ¡°I¡¯m really annoyed.¡± ¡±¡­at me? Again?¡± Momo was confident enough that she was joking that it didn¡¯t bother her. ¡±No? No. No I¡¯m annoyed that these people obviously have the ability to copy spellbooks.¡± James waved a hand in the air as he kicked his feet up onto one of the other chairs, careful not to get anywhere near the totem¡¯s exclusion zone as marked on the floor. ¡°We have a satisfyingly square sixty four copies of the stupid brainwashing spell. That¡¯s so many.¡± Momo shrugged. ¡±Gonna risk sounding like half the nerds down here, and say that it could just be that this dungeon makes copies of stuff way more often. Actually I¡¯m also annoyed! But I¡¯m annoyed cause I wanted a hundred weird spells, not ten weird spells and sixty copies of the same shit spell.¡± She slid her legs up onto the chair under her, leaning forward to glare at her totem. ¡°Been talking to some of the kids. They¡¯re real fucked up, you know? And it¡¯s pretty much all on that one stupid fucking book.¡± ¡±Fair thing to be annoyed at.¡± James tsked in consideration as he kept reading. ¡°Appointed Arrival seems like it¡¯s move person with extra steps?¡± ¡±And less organ damage. And technically it¡¯s a single step so¡­¡± Momo nodded, then froze. ¡°Wait, shit, was that a pun?! Sorry, start over so I can laugh!¡± James shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s too late now. Moving on. I¡¯m not seeing the fireball, or the ¡®turn human into butter¡¯ spellbooks? That sucks. What¡¯s Jubilant Crossing?¡± Before he could answer his own question, Momo was talking. ¡°That one¡¯s cool! It makes you feel what someone else is feeling. Like, tactile, not emotional. Great for¡­ uh¡­ long range communication.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t even think I¡¯m gonna pretend to believe that¡¯s your interest in it.¡± James knew this, because he knew what he¡¯d use that for. ¡°Ah, there¡¯s the one that converts waste plastic into gold. Weird conditions I guess. Why do some of these have warning notes by the levels? How do I open these with the¡­ how do I middle click with the skulljack? Dammit, I need to update this.¡± He grumbled to himself, sitting up as if better posture would help. It didn¡¯t. Momo knew though, which was helpful. He should use other people as information repositories more often. ¡°They¡¯re ones that go up in level when you put too many pluses on ¡®em. Can¡¯t get too plussy with the level two or it¡¯ll melt your brain!¡± ¡±Please never say ¡®plussy¡¯ again.¡± ¡±You¡¯re not my dad.¡± ¡±Good, I¡¯d be a terrible parent.¡± James tried to read the rest of the list, ignoring names and looking at the descriptions of cantrips, many of them useless even by Order standards. Momo rolled off her chair, landing on all fours before springing up. ¡°You sure? Morgan¡¯s doing fine.¡± ¡±I am barely a parent figure to Morgan. Though maybe I should be. I could¡­ be better about a lot of things.¡± James huffed out a breath. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll look over the rest of these later and I guess see if I need to redo my whole build or something. Oh, the coin? That¡¯s not listed here.¡± He swept his eyes across nothing, reflexively moving like he was reading while the words were all in his head. Momo knew what he was talking about yet again. ¡°The one with the ruby bit? Yeah, it¡¯s¡­ meh. Level one, it adds a ¡®ma¡¯ tag to the slot for some reason we will literally never know, and if you keep using the same spell in it, eventually it auto-pluses it. But you can¡¯t select these things, I think? No one knows how to slot spells into arbitrary slots or anything. Also how come you¡¯re okay with me saying ¡®slot¡¯ over and over but not plussy?¡± ¡±¡­I am leaving.¡± James announced. ¡°You horrible little goblin.¡± He added in the dryest voice he could manage. ¡±Remember to tell me what dungeon I get to name!¡± Momo yelled after him. ¡°And fix your ass so we can go check out the park!¡± _____ In the AM hours that were slightly offset from when James actually wanted to be awake, a familiar doorway opened itself up to him and let him back into the world that had reshaped his whole reality. Officium Mundi hadn¡¯t changed. Or at least, not that James had seen. It was still huge beyond the Order¡¯s ability to meaningfully transit and scout the whole place. It was also still one of the more static dungeons; stuff would sometimes fix itself or be replaced when left alone long enough, and new traps or the odd turn in a hallway would pop up, but maps mostly stayed stable. Unlike the Sewer, that added a new forked path every week these days, or the Climb that had its own bizarre shifting terrain going on, Officium Mundi was steady and boring. Well. It was an endless expanse of cubicles reshaped in a thousand variations, spread out across hundreds of miles or more, and filled with bizarre life and often more bizarre magic. But it was steady at least. When it wasn¡¯t messing with them. The false horizon, normally in the corner of his vision, was easier for James to ignore with only one eye. He really was planning to repair his sight, hopefully before he got used to this state of things. But shaper substance was limited in supply, he needed to learn about eyeballs, there were ratroaches in line before him, and he probably had a couple other excuses in there too. But he would do it. Maybe get himself a tail while he was at it. The tail would serve him poorly for delves like this. They were biking into the dungeon, which felt so wrong. Not just because it was a hostile environment, but because the whole of Officium Mundi felt like it was inside. And for all the weird stuff that James had been doing in his life, he still had a lot of little constants that he subconsciously believed without really knowing why. Things like ¡°bicycles do not go on carpet¡±. They were using mountain bikes for this trip, because it turned out, the people who made bikes agreed with James in general about what surfaces they were and weren¡¯t made for. A small detachment of delvers heading on a straight line deep into the dungeon, out to where the maps became more blank space than known elements. Not to the really dangerous places, but far enough that they might see something new. James was biking while maintaining two camera drones overhead, watching around them for motion and not putting too much more focus into it. If anything large tried to ambush them, the party was prepared to turn that fight around. Hunting for green orbs was absolutely something they were interested in, since more information about those was coming in now. But also he was just scanning for unique things that they could check out as a diversion. The group didn¡¯t talk much. These were delvers James wasn¡¯t actually familiar with; he¡¯d just joined up with the group, they were all either people who had been hired that he¡¯d only met once or twice, or they were rescues from Status Quo. Six other people, and they didn¡¯t talk much. Though that was honestly just because they were good at delving and weren¡¯t idiots. Officium Mundi didn¡¯t tolerate noise, no matter how familiar people got with it. And even James knew to keep the banter to a low volume. Guns were not a get out of jail free card here. They might save you from a single tough fight, as a last resort, but then you had to deal with every strider and tapeier and alligator clip within fifty cubicles. And it turned out, for some of the smaller life in here, there could be a fucking horrifying number of them in that space. James was tough. James had only been getting tougher. Endurance at the third level, Agility at the first, enough Velocity to cast a half dozen spells and enough Breath to cast a half dozen useful spells, purple orbs giving so many small boosts to his body, and the ability to enhance a handful of different things just by being near people he liked on top of that. And he¡¯d been training in all of it, getting better and better at being an action protagonist. James did not think he stood a fucking chance against a thousand angry staplers. He did not think he would ever have a chance against a thousand angry staplers, and if he ever did, then he¡¯d probably be kinda afraid of himself. Maybe he could manage against a hundred. Maybe. But when they were mixed in with the larger life, even the medium sized stuff like maul carts, the odds of survival felt long at best. So guns were a problem. Yelling was a problem. Their best bet was to move fast, and leave anything that might be alerted by the sound of all their bikes far behind. They¡¯d stop when they reached one of the known calm spots. And from there, it was exactly what James had promised Anesh and Alanna. A normal, simple, exploratory delve. With no going too deep, or taking stupid risks. By the numbers and clean. As far as they¡¯d ever know. After biking at least three miles down the main cleared corridor that the Order had started with, James took some time to chat with the other delvers while they started to explore in earnest. He learned that two of them were actually a couple right around the time the group was moving through a section of cubicles where every single surface was covered in sticky notes. They¡¯d started dating before joining the Order, and the sticky notes seemed to have been propagating from a desk lamp that had occasional spores drifting out of it for about the same length of time. The sticky notes didn¡¯t end up being anything threatening, so they let the whole place continue along with being a papery fungal bloom. He had a conversation with one of the older guys that James had mentally filed as ¡®an adult¡¯ about fishing. It was prompted by them coming across a channel in the floor, like a steep culvert, that was full of smoothly flowing black ink. The team mapped about two hundred meters up and down the bank of it, seeing that it wove deep into a dense tangle of cubicles and might be something like a ¡®river¡¯. They didn¡¯t find any fish or other living things in the ink, but they did get ambushed by a tentacled copy machine; the first one James had seen in a long time. The dungeon species might not have been as endangered as they¡¯d thought. Though it was slightly more endangered by the time the delvers were done with the combat. They harvested the orbs from that creature and the half dozen shellaxies that had come to snap at their legs during the battle, and moved on. The biggest takeaway for James was that he was a lot more educated on trout species by the end of it. Gradually, they got more comfortable around him, which was a thing he had been too stupid to realize was something that needed to happen. At least two of these people had been locked up and chained by a prisoner infomorph in the Status Quo jail, and they remembered James pretty directly. The others had heard of him, or at the very least had read something he¡¯d written for the Order¡¯s operations manual, or knew of something he¡¯d accomplished. That kinda felt good, but also it meant it took a while for the conversation to really relax. When it did though, the whole group spent some time chatting about skill orbs while they explored a strange tilted cubicle tower that was kind of half-supported by one of those lobby staircases that didn¡¯t go anywhere. The tower itself was oddly normal, as far as the dungeon went. The view from the slanted windows felt disorienting, sure, and it was certainly odd that most of the furniture hadn¡¯t slid to the lower side, but it didn¡¯t actually contain anything they hadn¡¯t seen before. It did have one of those phone vines all over the ceiling on one floor though, and they agreed to not try answering it as they poked through desks and filing cabinets, and talked about their first skill ranks.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Which was how James learned two very important facts. One; there was apparently a betting pool about what his first skill rank was, and absolutely no one had ¡®phone book templating¡¯ on their list. Some of them apparently thought he¡¯d gotten some kind of super special skill, and one of the other delvers had actively argued with him when he¡¯d tried to explain that no one had ever once, in his experience, gotten a good first skill. Which led into fact two; the woman who¡¯d been a Status Quo prisoner had gotten a useful first skill. She felt pretty guilty about it too, especially after James had just joked about how everyone¡¯s first skill orb was something they¡¯d probably never bother copying. It had been one of the yellows dropped by a particularly mean potted plant during her first delve, and her group - half of them among the people here - had split the rewards out of spite for the thing that they¡¯d cut their teeth on. And she¡¯d gotten two ranks in electrical repair. The fact that there were so few extra words attached made James comically jealous, but he did make sure to tell her he was hamming it up and not serious at all. That would have been a cool orb to have on hand, but there were three different electricians who were full time members of the Order now, and at least one of them had a skulljack. They¡¯d make that particular magic themselves soon enough. By the time the conversation ended, at least one person felt a lot better about their random orb gains, and the party had discovered that the tower had almost nothing in it except for the husk of a camraconda corpse on one of the higher floors. They also found a little wire pen basket that maybe produced endless pens or something like that, so that was neat. James also took one of the small yellow orbs that the group shared, just for fun. The vast majority of their collection from the delve¡¯s skirmishes and discoveries would be getting turned in, because while Officium Mundi did its best to fragment skills down into mostly useless bits, mostly wasn¡¯t entirely, and there were often things worth copying over and over once they discovered them. [+1 Skill Rank : Geology] He let the alien thought fill his focus, and then linger. And he did that because James was waiting for the rest of the words. When they didn¡¯t come, he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the slight awkward sensation of shifting his new eyepatch around by accident. That was a skill that would have been useful to copy, probably. Too late now though. The acme of the delve¡¯s path was when they found a particularly dense cluster of cubicles that had enchanted programs on their computers. Traveling light and not wanting to plunder twenty different PCs of varying shapes and sizes, the group opted to just check all of them once they realized that it was likely that all the desktops in the area had something on them. The increased security was the biggest clue; not just layers of odd passwords but also physically thicker cubicle walls, and half the places fully concealed behind the beige walls, requiring them to climb over to get inside. The whole area was still by the little ink river, so they parked their bikes in position to make a clean getaway, and got to work, the acrid chemical smell filling the air alongside hanging paper vines and the occasional distant sound of a strider¡¯s clicking. James didn¡¯t bother trying to identify the files he was moving over to his pocket full of USB sticks. But he did at one point run across what looked like a saved webpage that was some kind of social media advertisement. It invited people to a church newly built by a religion that never was, and it was¡­ oddly boring. He found himself less interested in the things like this that came out of Officium Mundi these days. Some stuff, like the alternate reality songs or episodes of nonexistent TV shows, that was always super cool to him. But this kind of weird wiki entry he¡¯d lost a lot of interest in. In contrast to this, James had a skill rank in cathedral demolition; a skill he¡¯d never used, but still had roots in his brain. And that skill provided a lot of very odd, very specific trivia. But unlike reading these dungeon made files, he found it really really cool. Because it was real, he decided. This stuff, it was just noise. It was the dungeon doing worldbuilding exercises with no end goal. He wouldn¡¯t be able to go out and visit the place it talked about, it wasn¡¯t a part of this world or his home planet. And unlike finding an mp3 file of a disco version of Paint It Black, this didn¡¯t even give him something to enjoy for its own sake. In a way, it felt like he¡¯d lost something that had been important to him when he¡¯d first found the dungeon. A bit of his personality that had changed when he wasn¡¯t looking. But also, it gave him something to think about while he searched through desk drawers for if there was a password written down anywhere easy, and that little distraction was important as it let him tune out the two other members of the delve team who had started arguing about how good puzzle games were. They ran out of USB sticks. It would have been a lot easier if the blue orb enchanted programs actually played nice enough to be on the same storage medium without breaking, but unfortunately, they had to live in a world where magic was obtuse and stupid sometimes. The bike ride back out was slower paced, and took a few diversions to complete and verify parts of the growing map of the Office dungeon in this area. Having the whole map constantly available to view through his skulljack made James feel a little too much like he was in a video game, but it still felt cool to know he¡¯d be contributing directly to turning some of those blank areas into clean lines and biome notes. He said goodbye to the delve team as they turned in their collection of orbs, and since he was dropping by the Lair before going home, he offered to take a load of copied cargo back with him. Talking to the Anesh running the copy ritual tonight also got a couple early goodies foisted on him, including two more tiny Horizon gears that upped his Velocity storage to ten total, and a skill rank in jogging which felt like it would be passively handy for the rest of his life. When he left the dungeon, he did perform one small personal ritual. Carefully and slowly checking his pockets, backpack, and the back of his shirt. Just in case, as had become something of a commonality in his life, someone from inside Officium Mundi had decided they wanted a ride with him out into Earth. But the night ended with no life deciding it wanted to be a loot drop, and just a quiet set of goodbyes from new companions who were part of something bigger than James ever expected. It felt nice. And now he could honestly tell Anesh and Alanna and anyone else who happened to put too high of a priority on his personal safety that he was fine. Six or so miles of biking and another mile or two on foot, and the sore flesh of his injuries barely ached at all beyond what it already had. And his impaired depth perception had barely come up! He was basically back at full capacity already. And if he could sell his partners on that, maybe he could get them to come with him on his next exploratory delve in the Sewer. _____ ¡°Yeah, sounds good man.¡± James spoke into the phone call without using his physical voice. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a problem with you coming back, there¡¯s plenty to do and I know Morgan is excited to see you again. Sucks it didn¡¯t work out, but hey, could be worse. We¡¯ll see you when you¡¯re back.¡± He listened to a quick reply, and then let the line go dead as he finished the climb up the stairs to his apartment. His apartment. James shook his head more at that thought than at the call from Simon. The poor guy seemed to have oopsed into some kind of international intrigue, and in an effort to avoid being aggressively hired by a national government, wanted to head back to the Order. James hadn¡¯t really set a limit on what a new paladin¡¯s errancy was, but he trusted the trio to figure out for themselves when they were ready, or alternate for him to hear about some bullshit and have to dramatically show up to tell them they were ready. And somehow, Simon getting involved in a blackmail plot that involved a national border and dungeon wildlife roaming the Earth was less of a mental speedbump than the fact that he was at the door to his apartment. James wasn¡¯t home often enough. Or when he was home it was to shower, sleep, and eat something that happened to be in the fridge. This apartment used to be somewhere deeply important to him; his little bit of freedom in a world that sucked. And now it was just a stopover between way more interesting things. He blinked and turned to stare out at the parking lot. The row of unassailable blackberry bushes between here and the little hiking trail he¡¯d just gotten back from a walk on. A dozen cars, one of which was technically his even if he hadn¡¯t driven it in months. And all of it baking in the sun, a summer that was the hottest on record currently doing its best to ignite his whole city, apartment included. ¡±I think Zhu¡¯s dreams are leaking.¡± James muttered to himself, holding back from mentally prodding at the sleeping navigator. He was getting better and better at syncing up with Zhu, but the infomorph needed real long term rest to fully heal up, and James was now trying to learn how to not constantly open up mental doors to his friend. Opening the door and getting inside as quickly as possible to not let the heat in, James leaned against the dented door as scraped his shoes off, dropping his bag into the nearest armchair. ¡°I¡¯m back!¡± He announced. ¡°Did you die?¡± Sarah asked in a drawn out question from her place draped over the back of the couch. From the cushions in front of her, Auberdeen offered a sympathetic but listless heavy woof, her white furred body similarly sprawled. ¡±Yes.¡± James answered as he pulled a still mildly cold energy drink out of the bag and tossed it toward Sarah, his Aim letting him target even the bounce off the cushions to be perfectly placed without nailing his friend in the head by accident. ¡°I regret to inform you that I am now a zombie. This causes me a great sadness, but I believe we will be able to move past it, as a community.¡± Auberdeen sniffed the air in his direction, then woofed again and dropped her head back to her paws, having decided that her roommate wasn¡¯t actually a member of the ranks of the dead. ¡±You wonk.¡± Sarah scrambled her arms forward to grab her drink while James filled Abuerdeen¡¯s bowl with the special organic cranberry juice she liked. The hiss of the can opening filled the air, and Sarah moved to sit like a normal human while she drank ¡°Ahhhhh. Perfect! Now my plans can continue.¡± She declared. ¡±You had plans?¡± James grinned at her as Auberdeen politely and precisely lapped at her juice, and he took a seat opposite the duo, spreading himself out on the plush chair that he and Alanna had bought from a Goodwill a decade ago, and letting the faux leather absorb the heat from his scorched shirt and hair. ¡°I didn¡¯t have plans. Plans don¡¯t work in our business.¡± Sarah set her can on the table and started idly flicking it with her fingernails, slowly building up to making a kind of tune. ¡°Rufus has plans!¡± She reminded James. ¡°Rufus has office hours, even. Office hours he is currently working, by the way. Oh, he said to tell you that¡­ well, he didn¡¯t use words, but he was waving a Magic card at me.¡± ¡±Was it Muldrotha?¡± James asked with exaggerated dread. ¡±¡­James we¡¯ve been friends for twenty years.¡± Sarah told him, looking up from her attempts at making music to meet the eye of her best friend in the world. ¡°You don¡¯t even remember how many times I have failed to learn how to play Magic. And I know, that you know, that I super extra do not have a clue if the card was¡­ Muldrotha?¡± She had already almost forgotten the name. James nodded as enthusiastically as the heat allowed. ¡°Correct! It probably was. Rufus wants me to go with him to commander night at the local game store, and I kinda sorta want to, because that would be really neat. But also I don¡¯t¡­ want to play against his deck.¡± ¡±What does Muldrotha - the name is growing on me - do?¡± Sarah asked. ¡±Stop everyone else from playing the game, usually.¡± James explained. She leaned her head around the half empty energy drink can, peering over the collection of notes and orbs and dice and remote controls on their living room table to stare at James again. ¡°Does anyone actually have fun playing Magic?¡± ¡±Oh, gods no.¡± ¡±You¡¯re impossible.¡± ¡±Thank you!¡± James smiled as he stared at the ceiling. ¡°But honestly, I really do wanna hang out with Rufus more. I wanna hang out with everyone. I want to stop taking week long trips into places where people try to kill me, and just enjoy the rest of August doing board game nights.¡± He gasped, turning in the seat. ¡°We should do a board game night before I get shot at again!¡± Sarah¡¯s eyes briefly fluttered into the saddest forlorn stare that James had ever seen, a moment of deep despair from his friend before she was herself again. ¡°Stop getting shot.¡± She ordered him. ¡°Or I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll¡­!¡± ¡±You¡¯ll think of something.¡± James said reassuringly. Auberdeen nosed Sarah and gave a half woof, prompting her to nod. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll get Auberdeen to think of something!¡± ¡±Oh that¡¯s much more threatening.¡± James admitted. ¡°Also hey Aubs! You excited to go back to college?¡± The dog raised her head, long and smoothly groomed white fluff shifting as she considered the question before barking twice and laying back down. ¡°Is that a no?¡± He didn¡¯t get a response from her, so turned to Sarah to translate. ¡°Sarah, is that yes or no? Does Auberdeen hate school now?¡± Auberdeen woofed again softly, but in a way that made it feel like she was grumbling at James. Sarah shook her head in the closest thing to irate anger she¡¯d ever express openly. ¡±I think she doesn¡¯t like that she can¡¯t express herself.¡± Sarah said quietly, petting the back of Auberdeen¡¯s head as the large canine moved over into her lap. ¡°You know, I think it explains why she¡¯s the one that stuck around?¡± James didn¡¯t know. ¡°I think you did the thing we do where you skipped a few logic steps.¡± He told Sarah with a smile. ¡±Oh!¡± She covered her mouth with her fingers for a second, before shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m glad you remember that.¡± ¡±I remember that because we both still do that and do that to each other constantly.¡± James laughed openly. ¡°That never stopped! We did that while I was in the middle of saving your life that one time!¡± The small pout that Sarah replaced her hidden smile with still held all of her exuberance and verve. ¡°Well fine, you butt. I mean¡­ Aubs doesn¡¯t want to get a skulljack or anything like that, right? And she¡¯s not actually interested in the veterinary program, so I don¡¯t think she wants shaper treatment, do you girl?¡± Auberdeen huffed a negative as Sarah kept petting her. ¡°Yeah. So, she¡¯s exactly like you. James.¡± ¡±Wait what did I do!¡± James grabbed a nearby pillow to hold defensively as Auberdeen made a noise like a wheezing snicker. ¡°I have a skulljack! Auberdeen follow my example!¡± ¡±Your example, mister ¡®look at me I can do an Odin impression¡¯, is that you put off the same stuff!¡± Sarah challenged him. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have a skulljack if you weren¡¯t¡­¡± her voice caught for a second, ¡°¡­like me. Oh and how long did you stall on the depression thing?¡± ¡±In my defense!¡± James held up an index finger like a professor about to make a point. ¡°The depression potion would have turned me into an inhabitor!¡± That wasn¡¯t really the right technical language, but he decided he was too hot to correct himself, even with the green orb slowly cooling the apartment. Sarah glowered at him with friendly disappointment. ¡°And the mundane antidepressants?¡± She asked. ¡±Okay shut up.¡± ¡°Never!¡± She cracked a smile, both of them making it clear they were goofing around and not actually being hostile. ¡°But yeah, Aubs, you¡¯re just a fluffy copy of James, aren¡¯t you? Aren¡¯t yoooooou?¡± She smushed the dog¡¯s face, scratching behind her ears enough that Auberdeen wouldn¡¯t get indignant. James watched the interplay before rolling back to stare at the ceiling again. ¡°Hey Aubs, is it weird that we¡­ like¡­ pet you like a dog?¡± He asked slowly. At the words, Sarah¡¯s eyes got wide and her hands froze midway through running her fingernails through Auberdeen¡¯s neck fur; an action that got the canine to whip her snout up in protest, nearly headbutting Sarah as she aggressively demanded the petting continue. ¡°Alright cool, just checking.¡± James was satisfied with that answer. ¡°Of course she¡¯s cool being petted, she¡¯s just like you.¡± Sarah added with chaotic happiness, continuing to lavish Auberdeen with affection. ¡±I have no idea what that means.¡± James pursed his lips as he kept staring at the rough texture of his living room ceiling, assuming that his skin felt hot because of the weather and not because he was feeling oddly embarrassed. Now it was Sarah¡¯s turn to try to control her own unfamiliar awkwardness. ¡°Oh, something about¡­ dating Alanna, probably.¡± She buried her face in Auberdeen¡¯s fur. ¡°I don¡¯t know I didn¡¯t think this far ahead.¡± James found the whole thing adorable, and he chuckled with an easy confidence that he was happy to get more familiar with. ¡°How are you and Alanna doing? I know I stole her away for a few days.¡± ¡±You needed it! For medical reasons that you did not do!¡± Sarah went from encouraging to chastising in a heartbeat. ¡°But at least you¡¯ll have a great Halloween costume!¡± ¡±As a pirate captain?¡± James asked, flicking his eyepatch¡¯s edge with one finger. Sarah planted an arm on Auberdeen¡¯s head, eliciting a noise that was like a baby version of an indignant howl, and propped her chin on her open palm as she considered James carefully. ¡°I was thinking you¡¯d be some kind of cautionary tale. Like you could go as the victim of an industrial accident! Like from the training videos!¡± ¡±I¡¯m Astro, a robot.¡± James intoned. ¡°I can put my eye back in, but you can¡¯t. Follow tactical operating procedure on your teleports, kids!¡± ¡±You won¡¯t put your eye back in though.¡± Sarah reminded him. ¡°Even though you¡¯re still delving every day, which has gotta be against the safety guidelines in the manual that¡­ you¡­ wrote. Hey hang on!¡± James sighed, actually starting to feel a little annoyed with how many people kept bringing that up with him. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll deal with it¡­ uh¡­ pretty soon actually. I really will. I¡¯m not procrastinating for no reason, I¡¯m waiting to not have lingering injuries, and to make sure Zhu¡¯s okay just in case. Also I obviously can delve every day! I¡¯m really good at it!¡± ¡±Confirmation bias!¡± James rolled off the chair and hopped to his feet. ¡±Yeah, in that I am confirming that I am biased toward being good in the dungeon!¡± ¡±That¡¯s not what that means you goober!¡± Sarah shot back, but they were back to laughing with each other now, the thin moment of tension diffused. She took a deep breath, and looked up at James with a placid grin as he failed to keep up a convincing scowl. ¡°Oh hey we were bullying Auberdeen weren¡¯t we?¡± Sarah turned back to the dog who suddenly remembered that she had an appointment somewhere else. ¡°Get a skulljack you scaredy¡­ dog¡­! They don¡¯t hurt and you¡¯ll be able to post on forums about shows you like!¡± Sarah shouted her argument as Auberdeen escaped her clutches and lumbered at high speed down the hall to hide in one of the bathrooms. James gave Sarah a pat on the head. ¡°She needs time.¡± He said. ¡°To make that decision herself. She¡¯s¡­ I mean, like you said, she¡¯s a little like me.¡± Sarah stuck out her tongue at her best friend, and James made a show of ignoring her as he continued. ¡°But she¡¯s also still a dog. She¡¯s a smart dog, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll ever think the way we think. And that¡¯s okay!¡± ¡±Of course it is.¡± Sarah sighed deeply. ¡°I¡¯m just worried about her! What if she¡¯s sad? Or lonely? She¡¯s a dog, but she doesn¡¯t have any dog friends. But does she have anyone she talks to, or spends time with?¡± Sarah shook her head, cutting astutely to the heart of the matter. ¡°Pets from me are, clearly, the greatest thing ever. But they¡¯re not enough on their own.¡± ¡±I¡¯ll double check that with Alanna later, but you¡¯re probably right.¡± James sighed himself. ¡°But it¡¯s her call. Maybe we should take her to the Lair more often; she seems to like movies and stuff, she¡¯d probably love movie night. Maybe having people that would want to talk to her will help.¡± He shrugged, collecting Sarah¡¯s can that had been freshly emptied of caffeine and guarana and also Auberdeen¡¯s empty juice bowl. ¡°But yeah, it¡¯s probably weird for her too.¡± Sarah peeked over the back of the couch, watching down the hall to see if Auberdeen was going to come back out. ¡°Well, as long as she¡¯s happy.¡± She settled on. ¡°At least it¡¯s not like with May.¡± ¡±How is the little raincloud anyway?¡± James asked. ¡±I think¡­ she needs to be let go.¡± Sarah admitted with pain in her voice. ¡°Either figuratively or literally. Turns out living rainclouds don¡¯t do well in captivity at all. And I think they have really short lifespans too. But I want May to be happy, but I also don¡¯t know if just letting her out in the world is a good idea?¡± ¡±We could let her go in Townton?¡± The suggestion was kind of a bad one and James knew it as soon as he said it, Sarah shaking her head at him as he leaned over the kitchen sink to chat with her. ¡°Actually, what about a different dungeon? One of the more natural ones. The Climb would fucking suck for it, but¡­ maybe whatever the park is? Or out in Horizon somewhere?¡± ¡±I think Horizon might actually kill her from the suns.¡± Sarah had already been considering this exact thing. ¡°Do we even know if the park dungeon is a real dungeon, and not just part of the parking lot?¡± She asked. James made a noise around the glass of water he had poured himself while she was talking and was currently trying to inhale at high speed. ¡°Mmh! Yeah, we got confirmation from some of the kids that are more open to talking to us. A lot of them are¡­ depressingly okay with what was done to them. But whatever, not the point.¡± He waved his cup in a slashing motion through the air. ¡°It¡¯s a real dungeon. They¡¯re just¡­ fused? Or bleeding into each other? It¡¯s so weird, the video does not look the way it does to see with your own eyes. I can¡¯t wait to show it to you in person, if you¡­?¡± James looked at her expectantly. Sarah folded her arms at her friend. ¡®I will delve with you when you have binocular vision again!¡± ¡±¡­Fine.¡± He conceded. ¡°Fiiiiine. I¡¯m gonna get a tail while I¡¯m at it though.¡± ¡±Not moth wings?¡± Sarah¡¯s hand came up to cover her heart in shock. ¡°I thought for sure!¡± ¡±While mothgirls are certainly seasonally appropriate,¡± James held in a grin at the untrusting look on his friend¡¯s face, ¡°I feel that I can get more done with a tail. I¡¯m thinking of putting extra eyes on it. As backups.¡± ¡±Because you need-!¡° ¡±Because I need those yes thank you Sarah.¡± ¡°I¡¯m astute!¡± ¡±You sure are.¡± James stretched, having enjoyed his relaxing afternoon, but really needing to get some sleep at this point. ¡°Oh, hey, before I go grab a short nap between now and my next life event; I¡¯ve got a few green orbs that I wanted to use here as part of the new testing situation. You wanna split these with me?¡± ¡±What do they do?¡± Sarah asked. ¡°Also hey Aubs! Come eat an orb with us!¡± The sound of claws skittering on the fake wood hall floor rapidly filled the air as Auberdeen excitedly bounded out of the bedroom she was hiding in. Apparently, exactly like James, she didn¡¯t consider the changes that orbs made to the self to be anywhere near as scary as intentional personal modifications like skulljacks. ¡°You¡¯ll see!¡± James said, placing one of the greens down for Auberdeen, and handing one very specific one to Sarah. ¡°This one is for something I know you¡¯ve been working on. Just¡­ in case it ever matters.¡± ¡±Marvelous!¡± She said as she took the orb, a little curious why James was talking like he thought it was a big deal, but also aware of how dramatic some of these things could be. James went first, the remains of a dungeon puppet bursting in his fingers and spreading a faint green dust that glittered only once in the sunlight from the door to their porch before it was gone. [+3 Skill Ranks : Communication - Instructions - Labor] [Local Area Shift : +4 Repairs - Minor / Week] Auberdeen jumped at hers next, teeth chomping down on something that popped with only a tiny bit of pressure as feedback. She didn¡¯t actually fully understand the orbs, even with all the knowledge that filled her doggy mind, but she did know that they made her better at enjoying stories. And that was enough. [+2 Skill Ranks : Music - Theory - Bass Drops] [Local Area Shift : Effort Required - Cleaning - Kitchen, -22%] Sarah watched the other two, seeing them both pleased with their outcomes for different reasons, and the apartment not shifting wildly around them. So she used her own, assuming it would be something potent but smoothly integrated, which was what the Order seemed to be fond of these days. [+4 Skill Ranks : Perception - Searching - Library - Nonfiction] [Local Area Shift : +1 Attic] She stared at James, then over into the corner where the spiral staircase behind their fireplace that went down into their cellar now extended up, into the ceiling which should surely punch a hole into their upstairs neighbor¡¯s floor. But it didn¡¯t. It went somewhere else. It went to their attic. ¡±We are never, in our lives, getting the deposit back on this place.¡± Sarah said as she let the glittering dust slip through her fingers and fade forever. ¡±Yeah, I figured.¡± James admitted, stepping up next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. ¡°I heard on your podcast that there was talk of trying to help Clutter expand. And I don¡¯t know how dungeons do that, but I know for a fact they can have multiple entrances. And I also know I wouldn¡¯t mind another roommate.¡± He gave Sarah a hug. ¡°But assuming that never happens, hey! Enjoy knowing how to find books on plants at our local library!¡± ¡±You dork.¡± She said, hugging him back on reflexive impulse. ¡°When are you even finding time to listen to my dumb podcast anyway?¡± ¡±Sarah, you are single-handedly helping me keep up on half the stuff going on in the Order. You have no idea how important you are. You say podcast, but you¡¯re basically our own personal news network and it¡¯s super important.¡± She flushed with pride as she pushed lightly at James. ¡°Well fine!¡± She said playfully. ¡°I guess I am pretty great! It takes a lot of time though, and I do miss¡­¡± Sarah trailed off, waving a hand around the otherwise empty apartment. ¡±This?¡± ¡±This. Us. Our friends. Not not caring, I don¡¯t miss not caring. I miss having nothing worth caring about. It wasn¡¯t evil to ignore stuff that wasn¡¯t our job. But now it is our job. Now we¡¯re supposed to be giving people clean energy and free teleports and it¡¯s so much, but I just wanna make food with you and play board games with our friends.¡± Sarah met James¡¯ eye and boldly let her vulnerability out into the open. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go back! But I do get tired, and no shared naps can fix that.¡± ¡±We should do a board game night.¡± James declared. ¡°I¡¯ll make it happen. I promise.¡± ¡±I believe you.¡± Sarah¡¯s grin could have lit up a whole city for how bright it was. ¡°Anyway, go sleep you goof. Also¡­ weren¡¯t we supposed to be testing these? How is Aubs supposed to tell you what she got?¡± She asked, pointing at their dog and possibly collectively adopted daughter. James looked down at Auberdeen, who stared back up at him, softly panting. He made a contemplative sound, and she woofed at him. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a good question.¡± James admitted. Auberdeen barked again in agreement. ¡±And?¡± ¡±And it¡¯s a good question. I¡¯m glad you asked it. Next question please.¡± ¡±James. Go to bed.¡± Sarah was polite enough to hold in her laughter until he was in his own bedroom, at least. Chapter 302 ¡°We could never¡­!¡± Diaz began, then stared at his display with a pained look. ¡°I wonder how many people said that over the last century, then found themselves doing those exact things. You¡¯re right, Kommodor. It has to be something stronger than a rule or law that can be changed or ignored. It has to be something that no one would even imagine changing.¡± -Kapitan Diaz, The Lost Stars: Imperfect Sword- _____ James arrived at Karen¡¯s office via the usual route of magical elevator that he really, really wished they had more of. Magical elevator on demand would solve so many problems. But even having found a very similar Change Doorway blue orb, the Order still didn¡¯t have the ability to replicate the effect that had tethered the Lair to their California office. Also they were paying rent on the California office now, which James begrudgingly admitted was something he should have expected. They couldn¡¯t expect JP¡¯s weird acquisitions to be free forever. He took a moment and wondered what JP was doing right now. Probably something illegal, that was sort of how JP rolled. He was currently up in Alaska, trying to do rogue stuff and gathering intelligence about the Priority Earth group, and James would likely be joining him in a few days after he¡¯d healed more fully and had binocular vision again. He hoped it was cold. The only reason this building was a survivable temperature right now was strong AC, thick windows, and a green orb that stabilized ambient temperatures, and James wanted to go somewhere that he could breathe without sweating. He was sure, in his heart, that right now, JP was somewhere staring at a snowbank and having exactly the opposite thought, but that was just what his friend got as a karmic reward for being kind of a bastard sometimes. Alaska would be later though. Today, James was talking to people, and also impatiently waiting on hearing from his other two new paladins. He¡¯d be hiding that impatience for talking to Karen though. ¡±Come in already, if you¡¯re in such a rush.¡± Karen¡¯s reply to his knocking on her door made it clear that he had already failed at hiding anything, but James still entered with a polite and professional dip of his head. ¡°Ah, James. What budgetary nightmare do you bring to my solemn desk today?¡± James paused, tilting his head slightly as Karen¡¯s tone caught him off guard. She sounded¡­ happy? He evaluated the woman sitting in front of him, feeling as always more like a fleet officer on the bridge of her battleship than an accountant, but actually looking a little different than he was used to her being. He couldn¡¯t say exactly what had changed, but she seemed less tired somehow. Less sharp. ¡±I like the haircut!¡± James offered, going for the one physical change he could place. ¡°Very Morticia Addams.¡± ¡±Thank you, I¡¯m trying something different. And with the picture frame we happen to have that regrows hair, I felt more comfortable experimenting.¡± Karen smiled as she adjusted some of the long strands of her hair with two fingers. Actually smiled, an almost serene image cutting a path across her lips. It made her look a decade younger, and James was deeply confused by what was happening here. ¡°And you haven¡¯t answered my question.¡± She challenged him. He nodded, distracted, before realizing what he was agreeing to and shaking his head. ¡°Uh, no. I mean, maybe? Actually probably, yes, I¡¯m sorry.¡± James switched back to a confident nod as he sat down across from Karen¡¯s immaculately organized desk. The accountant stared back at him, a bit of her familiar stern expression creeping onto her face as she watched James. ¡°Well?¡± ¡±Well¡­ I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m just saying I¡¯ve probably caused a new problem.¡± He admitted. ¡°I know Recovery is on top of the new chanters, so it¡¯s not that. Uh¡­ I hear handling the Mormon kids is going¡­ badly? That¡¯s kind my fault, but it¡¯s not new at this point. I¡¯m mostly trying to think of what new money sink disaster I¡¯ve caused because you¡¯re right and there probably is one somewhere.¡± ¡±Why are you in my office.¡± Karen¡¯s newfound happiness let her say it with a smile, but James could feel the concealed edge in her words. He laughed it off, mostly just glad that Karen was still Karen. ¡°Sorry, sorry. I heard that the guy you and Barkdust hired to run our newfound conquest of global logistics would be here today and I wanted to meet him.¡± ¡±Ah. Yes, mister Inoue will be here in the next ten minutes, you have surprisingly good timing.¡± She narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°Or you would, if you did not have access to the schedule, and the ability to have called in advance.¡± Karen challenged his casual attitude about dropping in on professional meetings. ¡°Please do so in the future.¡± ¡±Right!¡± James saluted crisply. ¡°Anyway, I know all our information is public, but I¡¯m bad at interpretation, and I wanted to ask how our budget is doing.¡± ¡±Adequate.¡± Karen answered. ¡°With our copying of rare materials and a profitable sales relationship with two different companies, our linguistically ironic lack of overhead is allowing us a steady profit to fuel a wide array of mad science projects.¡± She glanced sideways at her computer screen as something made a ping, before looking back at James. ¡°The financial side of the Order is that we are working at a profit, but that profit is largely sitting idle, waiting for when it is needed for a project.¡± ¡±¡­we have too much money?¡± ¡±I didn¡¯t say that.¡± Karen pursed her lips at him. James nodded, understanding completely that she had just said that. ¡°So we should get more large scale projects going. What¡¯s our actual slack look like? Could we, I dunno, hire a couple small construction companies to speed up restoration in Townton and offer free housing to people who need it? That might be-¡° ¡±Yes.¡± ¡±¡­just¡­ yes?¡± Karen nodded once. ¡±Just yes.¡± She confirmed. ¡°Well within our budget.¡± ¡±¡­how?¡± James had to know. ¡±Our unorthodox policies, even not including the magic, have created an environment of efficiency and community investment in problem solving. Our bureaucracy is streamlined, and our costs typically experience marked decreases as we rapidly get better at solving specific problems. The only consistently high expenses are payroll, but since that¡¯s offset by everything else I just said, and also the magic, it leads to a budget that stays lower than expected. Even if we pay well above normal wages.¡± James stared at her, baffled. ¡°You complain about how much money we spend constantly!¡± He blurted out. ¡±We haven¡¯t spoken in some time, so I can understand you thinking that.¡± Karen nodded sympathetically. ¡°While I do keep an eye on things, however, you¡¯ll find that Clark is our chief accountant currently, so he can get experience at it. His office is in the Officium Mundi building, if you¡¯d like to speak to him. I spend most of my time managing stipend ratings for the magic distribution within the Order now. And helping on a few other projects.¡± Massaging his temple, James stared in a daze down at the carpet of her office¡¯s floor. ¡°I was barely gone for two weeks.¡± He muttered. ¡±Yes, and things changed. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll adapt, being on this side of things for once.¡± Karen smiled at him again. James held a hand up his mouth before slashing his flat fingers through the air. ¡°Now hang on!¡± He challenged. ¡°I don¡¯t just randomly show up and change things! Usually I¡¯m the one reacting to a change that already happened! I rescue people from bad changes!¡± ¡±James half the Order sees you as a harbinger of upheaval.¡± Karen told him bluntly, using a voice that he was reasonably sure she only wheeled out to be studiously disappointed in the younger generation. ¡±Well¡­ that¡¯s¡­ only mostly my fault.¡± James conceded, still grinning. ¡°I¡¯ll set up a general vote on it, maybe shop around for a few other ideas we can put money toward. I don¡¯t want to put us in danger of bankruptcy or anything, but if money isn¡¯t a problem, we should be using it.¡± ¡±I tend to agree. Though I would have defaulted to investments of some kind.¡± ¡±People are an investment.¡± James said confidently. ¡°Arguably more so than shipping networks.¡± ¡±Mmh.¡± Karen seemed like she didn¡¯t want to argue on that point, but only because she was reading something and also counting minutes until her meeting showed up, and not because she didn¡¯t have an opinion. ¡°Progress on the shipping project continues apace, if you¡¯re curious.¡± She told him, knowing damn well that he was. ¡°We¡¯re going to cause a lot of disruption, but¡­¡± ¡±Bah.¡± James realized he sounded abruptly angry as soon as the exclamation left his mouth. ¡°I hate that term.¡± Karen arched her eyebrows at him, and he noticed that unlike everyone else he¡¯d interacted with this week, she didn¡¯t do the thing where she flicked her eyes to his eyepatch. ¡±Disruption?¡± She asked in her neutral probing tone. ¡±Yeah.¡± Sighing and leaning back in the chair, James set the backs of his hands on the desk, fingers splayed out as he looked at his palms and tried to consider how much he should say. He didn¡¯t want to waste Karen¡¯s time. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ I mean, I have a complex thought on this, but the short version is that it feels like it ignores how things are?¡± ¡±I believe I know what your concern is, but I would like to know that you actually do have a coherent opinion on the subject before anything else.¡± Karen gently pointed a pencil in his direction as she plucked the writing implement from a wire basket on her desk. James sighed. ¡°Disruption implies that things as they are now are either normal, or stable. And they aren¡¯t? It¡¯s making an assumption. And it¡¯s a simple and insidious assumption; that the status quo isn¡¯t disrupting, hurting, and costing. That the change is aberrant because it is doing something that hasn¡¯t been done before.¡± He shrugged. ¡°And that¡¯s just sort of a lie.¡± He added. ¡±So you believe changes are measured inaccurately because we are measuring against a balance of zero, when that isn¡¯t the case?¡± Karen prompted. Narrowing his good eye suspiciously, James gave a slow nod as he sat forward in his chair. ¡°Yes¡­¡± He said, feeling like he was being listened to more closely than usual. ¡°And that is just straight up not how the world works. There¡¯s an often unknown amount of harm being done by any given system, and changing things very likely will hurt people who rely on that system in a measurable and noticeable way. But usually those systems preference those people. A change might help far more people who were deprived before, or it might ¡®cost¡¯ something financial while preventing damage that is more direct or harmful.¡± He was building up momentum now, and carefully picking his words even as he worked to explain his thought process. ¡°If we were staring from ¡®everything is fine¡¯, starting from actual real zero, then any damage we did would be inexcusable. But if some people lose their jobs because we reshape how the world works into something more effective¡­ I mean, I still feel for those people. And we talked about this before; we can probably just cover their expenses with our own profits and still be rich.¡± James shrugged, feeling like he¡¯d faltered. ¡°I don¡¯t have a great solution there, because I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone personally. But on a grand scale¡­¡± ¡±We are not beginning from a zero.¡± A man¡¯s voice from behind him made him turn, though James kept himself from jumping out of his skin. ¡°Hello, good afternoon.¡± He said in politely professional English as he stepped into Karen¡¯s office. Karen said something in Japanese that James didn¡¯t understand beyond ¡®hello¡¯, standing from behind her desk to introduce him as he stood from his chair too and offered a handshake. ¡°James, this is Inoue-San, our current operations director. Inoue-San, this is James Lyle, our¡­¡± Karen paused, actually faltering with her mouth open. ¡°James is responsible for¡­¡± ¡±Jesus this is grim.¡± James laughed lightly, noticing only a slight facial quirk from the professional Japanese man he¡¯d just shaken hands with. ¡°I act as a free floating problem solver, and I¡¯m responsible for emergency decisions and in some cases security.¡± James said. ¡±Ah. You are, perhaps, a modern form of a samurai.¡± Inoue said it with a tightly controlled smile, testing the waters with a joke perhaps. James¡¯ own brightening smile was filled with amusement. ¡°Very close to that, yes!¡± He agreed. ¡°No sword though. I consistently fail to be the one with the sword.¡± James shook his head a little too fast, wincing in pain as his eye spiked a bit of agony through his skull. He kept himself from hissing out at least, and instead focused on the conversation. ¡°How much of my rambling did you overhear?¡± ¡±Most.¡± The man replied. ¡°You are not incorrect. The global shipping industry makes trillions of dollars, and to do that, they employ millions of people across the world. It connects us with trade, and has created a way of life where fewer and fewer things are locked to a geographical region. We could call that all ¡®good¡¯, and say that our efforts, which will undoubtedly impact how many people work those jobs, would be ¡®bad¡¯. But that industry also produces three percent of our global emissions, and an unknowable amount of pollutants and toxins. It advantages nations with more buying power, allowing imperial interests to exploit people who lack the power to resist. It is devastating to ecosystems, especially oceanic ones, and not a year has passed without a major spill causing an environmental and health hazard.¡± He spoke quickly, proficiently, and summed up James¡¯ own concerns in a rapid yet clear explanation that left James feeling jealous that he didn¡¯t have that information just ready to go at any given time. ¡±I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m surprised you understand.¡± James said honestly, adding a small shrugging motion for no real reason. ¡°But yeah. We¡¯ll disrupt things. And that¡¯s okay, because things are always being disrupted. We shouldn¡¯t aim for stability or infinite growth, we should aim for turning large problems into smaller, more manageable problems.¡± The two men nodded at each other, the older professional seeing something he found familiar in the younger man with an obscure title and an abundance of passion, and the paladin seeing something worthy of respect in the businessman. Karen, meanwhile, used the pencil in her hand to check something off on a small pad of paper she was holding. ¡±What was that?¡± James asked. ¡±We¡¯ve finished that step of the conversation.¡± Karen said, using words that were technically an answer and yet explaining nothing. ¡°Now. We have three sites currently being worked on, and I need to go over a wide array of technical details with Inoue-San. If either of you have any questions for each other, now is the time. Oh, Inoue-San, if you ever have a direct issue that requires an immediate decision, James is one of the people you can contact.¡± Their operations director whom they¡¯d given a budget of large scale teleporters to nodded as he looked at the person who could solve problems for him, only mildly wondering if the eyepatch was a new choice on James¡¯ part. ¡°I have concerns about information leaks, especially in light of how easy it was to learn the true nature of the logisticors myself.¡± He said flatly, wondering if exposing what he knew would lead to being silenced and having his body thrown into the ocean. ¡°Also I would like to preemptively know our stance on labor unions within the employed laborers.¡± ¡°We¡¯re effectively acting as an employee owned business, which is basically a union that doesn¡¯t have an internal antagonist. Though we should make that both clear, and codified for people joining.¡± James said easily. ¡°Also yeah, I kinda figured that deception wouldn¡¯t work long term on anyone working closely on this project.¡± He huffed out a breath. ¡°I dunno, I¡¯m not used to being a conspiracy! Karen, do you have any suggestions on that?¡± ¡±My suggestion is that we speak with our experts.¡± She told him. ¡°As soon as any of them are in the building again.¡± Was the muttered addition to that sentence. ¡±I¡¯ll be meeting JP in a couple days, I can bother him about it. Or¡­ wait, isn¡¯t Ben required by protocol to be around? There¡¯s always someone senior on hand, talk to Ben.¡± He brightened up suddenly. ¡°Inoue-San, have you met Ben? Because I would really love to be there when you do.¡± ¡°James please keep your antics out of my business meetings. I will speak with Ben later, for now, Inoue-San and I need to go over the details of our up front construction costs.¡± James took that as his cue to leave. ¡°Alright. Pleasure to meet you. And Karen¡¯s not kidding, call me if anything comes up, okay?¡± He offered the man his business card, neatly printed from nowhere by the enchanted shirt that James didn¡¯t usually wear but did keep in his closet, just for fun. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to it. And Karen, thanks for the updates!¡± He gave her the best smile he could, and considered saying something about how he was glad that she seemed like she was doing better, but that seemed like it would be awkward in front of someone who was still a little bit an outsider. Shutting her office door behind him, James was in a good mood as he walked down the hall back toward the elevator. The space was occupied today, full of people working on the organization that kept the Order working and not floundering. Though not working too hard; a mixed group of people stood chatting quietly around the vending machine, and as James passed he saw that Smoke was showing off what looked like pictures of baby chanters from Townton to them on her phone. It was a quiet and simple moment, but one that made him feel quietly happy about the world they were making here. Before he made it to the elevator, Cathy caught his attention over the quiet sounds of the office at work, and he meandered over to her receptionist desk to find Rufus and another new strider hanging out on the flat surface. Possibly a third stapler too, but that one might be an inanimate piece of office equipment. ¡°Hey buddy.¡± James greeted Rufus before nodding to Cathy. ¡°What¡¯cha need, and is it super dangerous?¡± ¡±Incredibly so.¡± She gave him a forlorn sigh in reply. ¡°Can you give these two a ride downstairs? There¡¯s a telepad group about to leave for the school, and you¡¯re going that way.¡± ¡±Oh, sure!¡± James set his arm down and let Rufus scurry up onto his shoulder, followed slowly by his new friend who looked a lot more unsure about riding on a human. The other stapler was smaller than Rufus was, which wasn¡¯t hard since Rufus was now definitely closing in on ¡®small dog¡¯ sizing, and had a green hull with slit eyes on either side. And whoever they were, they were also skittish, like they weren¡¯t sure if James was going to eat them at any moment. ¡°Got some kind of thing going on there?¡± Rufus unfolded the little keyboard on his flank and tapped one of his legs on a couple keys, using emoji to convey information in direct circumvention of the bullshit imposed disability that kept him from speaking or typing easily. It didn¡¯t take James long to put together what was being said, either.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Teacher¡¯s meeting? Neat.¡± A few more buttons from Rufus invited James along with them, though James wasn¡¯t sure he understood what he was being asked to help with. ¡°I¡¯ve got some time, sure. Might need someone on site to give me instructions. I¡¯d love to see the place though, I haven¡¯t gotten to participate much in the remodel, and I know you¡¯ve been working on it a lot.¡± The little red and black stapler gave James an eager bobbing nod, nearly taking James¡¯ ear off as he bounced on his friend¡¯s shoulder. He had been working hard at this. Researching, planning, struggling at taking part in conversations and organization, and sometimes even helping with the construction directly where it turned out striders were perfect for running cable through walls or fitting into vents. Though often times, the HVAC work required the touch of someone with hands. Which, James would learn soon, was why he¡¯d been invited. Well, that, and also to see how the remodeled and expanded old processing center had turned into a place that could hopefully be a wonderful place of learning for the next generations. But also to crawl through a vent. Because Rufus wasn¡¯t going to do that. He had a teacher¡¯s meeting. _____ After dropping Rufus off at a gathering of humans that looked like they were the kind of people who would need to rapidly get used to having a corgi sized stapler in their meetings, James ended up press ganged into work with the crew doing renovations on the building. The Order had a lot of people in it, in a lot of varied positions. And thanks to skill orbs and .mem files that could transfer expertise better and better with every upgrade they made to the process, a lot of people could work on a construction team. But work like this, large scale work on a big building that needed changes and additions that were up to code? That took outside help. So they¡¯d contracted. And paid well for it, to get it done fast and properly. After all, they wanted to be ready to go in a month when school started up again. It was a tight deadline, but they weren¡¯t building from scratch. Just making some changes and edits to the structure, the largest of which were already done. It was just down to the details now, which the Order was working out with their own labor and skill. Things like getting the kitchens in order, finalizing hiring and logistics, stocking the equipment rooms, and making sure the auditorium sound system was wired properly. That last bit was what James was doing actually. He wasn¡¯t a sound engineer - yet - but apparently someone had talked and it was known that he had skill ranks in electrical wiring. Not that he minded the openness; there was a job that needed doing and he could do it, so he would. That was the world James wanted to live in, and he¡¯d be an asshole if he expected other people to do what he didn¡¯t want to. Besides, their normal Order electrician, Mark, was taking a day off. Which seemed fair; his kid had soccer practice, and he¡¯d been working his ass off as much as anyone else to get this place ready. So James was happy to get on the extremely tall ladder they had and finish setting up the cabling in the ceiling of the auditorium. Fear of heights was one of those things James knew he had academically, but he never really felt it, because he didn¡¯t stick his head over the edge of cliffs. Which was unfortunate because he really, really needed to not screw up while he was messing with electricity. Electrical wiring actually had a level of tolerance for fuckups that might surprise a lot of people; James was aware of a story where someone¡¯s house had been grounded completely wrong, and while they¡¯d had to replace lightbulbs way too often, nothing had actually exploded or burned down. There was a reason that every electrician opened work on a new site by looking around and saying ¡°I don¡¯t know who did all this, but they were a fucking idiot¡± after all. But this place was supposed to be their best foot forward. And James would prefer if he didn¡¯t accidentally screw something up and cause the whole room to electrify as soon as someone plugged a microphone in. And being twenty feet off the ground was making it hard for him to focus on doing that. So he focused as hard as he could on pulling information out of his skill ranks. The yellow orbs, some of them from a while back, enchanting his knowledge of current and wire, fuses and junctions. Not just his multiple ranks in ¡®being an electrician¡¯, but also a handful of single ranks in repair for various things that all sort of added up to new perspectives and intersections of ideas. Knowing how to fix an auditorium speaker led quite neatly into knowing how to make sure one was set up properly in the first place. And set up to last at that. It helped that James had an assistant for this; the other strider that had come along with Rufus had seemed even more intimidated by the room full of teachers, administrators, and student counselors than he happened to be by James and a handful of increasingly gruff construction workers. And aside from a brief moment of terror at one of those people doing construction being a camraconda, the strider had stuck close to James and mostly just been incredibly useful at literally running cable across the rafters. ¡±How about¡­¡± James mused as he capped off the end of a wire that was more future proofing than anything else, ¡°¡­Bethel?¡± The strider shook its whole body at James, thick sharpie-style pen legs holding it upside down on a hoop of paperclips that were tethered to the ladder and the building¡¯s metal framework for safety. The fact that a fall would be just as dangerous for them as for James didn¡¯t seem to stop the stapler spider at all from chilling in defiance of gravity while helping the human finish everything up. The attempt to find them a name was ongoing, which was a nice way of saying that James was bad at names. ¡±Look I¡¯m bad at names!¡± James threw out the excuse. ¡°Hortense? No? Also these two need to go thirty feet that way. Don¡¯t attach them to anything, there should be a zip tie you can tuck them into.¡± He passed a couple wires over and watched them vanish as his more adept assistant. ¡°I can¡¯t wait for the next push up the Climb, I¡¯m getting fucking wings.¡± James mumbled. Wrapping up the work shortly after, somehow without falling or doing anything dramatically stupid, James went to check in at what was more or less the command center for the remodel. Later, it would be a cafeteria, but right now it was dominated by a series of checklists that were steadily and inexorably shrinking. And also people, but the checklists were the important part. ¡±Yo.¡± James greeted the guy he¡¯d gotten the assignment from a couple hours ago. ¡°Meredith and I are done getting the audio hooked up, and nothing is on fire. Also I didn¡¯t have to say the electrician thing, so that¡¯s good!¡± ¡±Meredith?¡± The lean man covered in bristly salt and pepper hair on both his head and his face gave James and his strider friend a small smirk. In response, the strider that was riding on James¡¯ shoulder started trying to slap him in the face with some of their legs. ¡±Okay okay no not really!¡± James laughed, holding up a hand to avoid accidentally losing his other eye. ¡°My mental list of names is stuck in the 1950¡¯s or something, but the job is done. Mark¡¯ll probably want to check it later, so I left the ladder in there.¡± And then there wasn¡¯t really time for James to do anything before he had something else going on that day. But he had a little while before anyone was telepading back to the Lair, and he was trying to conserve the physics-defying method of transportation. The Order made roughly eighty thousand total teleports with each copier run they did, and they did at least one a week, which meant there was a lot of telepads available. But also taking it for granted seemed lame to James. Like he¡¯d be ignoring the coolest part of his day. Also lingering let him wander the building. Wander the school, that even with the smell of fresh paint and all the tarps on the walls and construction gear in semi-organized piles, was still a place both familiar and new to James. He left Jaque - the strider seemed less annoyed by that name so maybe it¡¯d stick - with the main crew, and went for a little walk just to have some time to himself. Mostly to himself. He texted Anesh a picture of one of the classrooms with a ¡®math teacher? Eh?¡¯ message attached, and also texted Arrush a reply to their slowly ongoing conversation about board games. Arrush was new to texting, and did so at a languid pace, which meant that throughout the day James would sometimes get small messages from his newest boyfriend that made him smile in how mundane and comfortable they were. But aside from that, he had time to take in the soon to be school. Classrooms, gymnasiums, the auditorium and cafeteria, computer labs and shop classes, teachers lounges and back offices, and a library that would embarrass the local government. There was a vision that James had of the perfect place of learning, a kind of cathedral to knowledge. And they weren¡¯t there. Not even close. This was an almost entirely mundane structure, with only a few very strictly curated green orb effects bolstering it and nothing else. But this place wasn¡¯t meant to be like the Lair. Not yet. It was meant to be for everyone. It was meant to be a transition to a new form of normal, for new generations. The extensive remodel had set up the hallways to be open and with plenty of space, with alcoves and benches all over the place for students to make use of. Lockers were in classrooms to prevent wasting time running across the building for books and making students haul pointless weight. And the place was built with clear windows, open lines of sight, and blatant defiance of the architecture of school shootings. This wouldn¡¯t be somewhere that people went to be afraid. James refused that idea outright. Maybe their way of doing things would work. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t. There was a lot of research on how humans learned, and the Order could apply that with their excessive resources because eating a financial loss was okay for them. But either way, whether this panned out as expected or not, they weren¡¯t going to half-ass their starting investment. If it failed it wouldn¡¯t be because they didn¡¯t give it their all. One of the classrooms that James passed was actually occupied; a collective meeting of the school¡¯s incoming staff. Most of the teachers were human, because most camracondas or ratroaches hadn¡¯t even existed long enough to make it through a masters degree yet. But the room was still mixed, as multiple species were all going to be working here, especially in TA positions to get that hands on experience. James paused at the window and watched for a bit, making note of how some of the people were new new. Humans who were here for their first day of actually experiencing the Order, who maybe hadn¡¯t fully had it sink in that magic was real and some of their coworkers and students wouldn¡¯t be human themselves. It was interesting to see the new teachers, all of them vetted for good cultural fit for this first attempt, mentally pressuring themselves to become comfortable with the nonhumans sitting next to them. Or in the case of Rufus, leading the meeting. James had known Rufus was interested in this project, but this was¡­ weird. Weird to actually see in person. Rufus wasn¡¯t interested, Rufus was in the thick of it. Here he was, with no connection to the world beyond his place in the Order, barely any interactions with humanity, standing among people twenty times his size that he could barely communicate with, and he was still getting his point across about arranging adaptive lesson plans. James lingered for a bit, getting noticed by a few of the people in the room and giving a reassuring smile to those that didn¡¯t know him. Enough of them knew him personally that him being a random guy lurking outside what was technically the building¡¯s first actually class session didn¡¯t cause any problems. He knew about what they were currently covering, but it was nice to see how solid their plan was for handling multiple different species with different potential maturity levels. The school wasn¡¯t going to be split based on age; that didn¡¯t work in human only school already, and there was enough research to back that up that they had a framework to start from. They¡¯d be starting with four divisions of relative maturity, with the earliest being those that needed a foundational education in math and literacy, and the last being those who needed to learn how to learn and take initiative. No hard lines between ages, just an evaluation every half year for if a student should be moved. It was the kind of thing that would take a lot of work, and a lot of attention, but everything worth doing seemed to have that requirement anyway. James mused as he started walking again, checking out the empty echo of the school¡¯s back stairwell that he knew there would be a group of friends sneaking into to eat lunch in the future. Up onto the second story of the building, prowling the spaces between what would someday be science classes and group art projects. Throughout all of this, the Order would be watching and keeping track in as many ways as they could, essentially turning all of this into one big research experiment. Because they needed to learn too. They needed to know how ratroaches grew up, how camracondas learned, how stuff animals became socialized, and how chanters matured. They needed to know everything. And what better place to learn than a school. _____ ¡±Jim.¡± James said as he entered one of the basement labs, nodding at the round man with a head of short tufts of brown hair. ¡°Bill. Other Jim.¡± He offered the same nod to the other guest who was playing the short and skinny roles in the local cast of Jims, and the world¡¯s most awkward secret handshake-slash-fist-bump to the man who was with the Order. ¡°I¡¯m here, what¡¯s exploding today?¡± The bigger man cleared his throat. ¡±Oh, call me Benson. Uh¡­¡± ¡±You¡¯re a bit late.¡± The smaller Jim said like he was suspicious of James¡¯ schedule. Or maybe it was suspicious because James¡¯ head was smoking like he¡¯d recently been on fire. James decided it was probably that one. ¡°Nik tricked me into testing one of the new potions. It¡¯s not dangerous, it just causes hair to emit a thin not-actually-wood smoke. And I¡¯ve got a lot of hair. Smells nice at least!¡± James coughed a little more roughly than he¡¯d meant to, and hoped no one would breathe in his fumes until the potion duration ended in a few minutes. The more professional Jim sighed. ¡°I had hoped that the organization of literal wizards would be less chaotic than this.¡± He said. ¡±Hah. No.¡± James replied without much humor. ¡°Chaos is sort of a key part of how we operate. Anyway. Bill says you guys need a decision that I¡¯ve been appointed for?¡± Bill nodded, cracking his knuckles as he moved to the head of one of the tables that there was some kind of half-exposed machinery on. The heavyset man looked almost nervous as he picked at the hairs on the back of his hands. When he spoke, it was with a deep breath and the intonation of someone who had planned out a speech. ¡°Right. Yeah. So. The history of humanity generating electricity has been an arms race to find increasingly stupid ways to boil water.¡± James raised his hand, interrupting almost immediately. ¡°What about wind or tidal power? Or solar? Isn¡¯t that photovoltaic or something?¡± ¡±That¡¯s the planet generating electricity. Or sometimes the sun.¡± One of the Jims informed him. ¡°We just pick some of it up. To use the least technically correct explanation possible.¡± Bill sighed, dropping his rehearsed speech. ¡°That didn¡¯t take long to get derailed.¡± He complained. ¡±Sorry. Continue please!¡± James put his hand back down. ¡±¡­fine. This is a small scale model for a new thermoelectric generator. Advances in materials, as well as the obvious advantage provided by disobeying the guidelines of physics, have let us get a frankly absurd rate of production compared to what¡¯s commonly on the market.¡± ¡±Guidelines.¡± James said dryly. With a loud snort, Benson cut him off before he could ask questions. ¡°You can create perpetual motion machines and you think that¡¯s the least interesting spell you have. They¡¯re guidelines.¡± ¡±Touche. Sorry Bill, go on.¡± Rolling with the distractions at this point, Bill moved over to the other table and directed James¡¯ attention to a blueprint. ¡°Right. Yeah. So this is our facility design, which is planned out to create several large scale TEGs, with secondary turbines for harnessing pressure shifts as the heat attempts to equalize before being televected. We¡¯re estimating¡­¡± He saw James had his hand up again. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡±Televected?¡± ¡±Like convected, but-¡° ¡±But remotely, okay, yeah, that¡¯s¡­ that makes sense. Okay, good word. Sorry again.¡± Bill let out an unhappy humming. ¡°Stop apologizing if you¡¯re gonna keep doing it.¡± He told the paladin. ¡°So at full scale, this power plant will require fairly regular maintenance, an on-site crew including casters for emergencies, and cost about twenty million dollars a year for salaries, parts, and taxes.¡± ¡±Yikes.¡± ¡±No.¡± Jim cut in. ¡°No, not yikes.¡± ¡±Not yikes?¡± James felt like twenty million a year was a yikes. The Order only barely had that much income from their rare material sales, which was kind of why they were subsidizing the whole operation with an actual power company in the first place. Outsourcing as a way of offloading costs but still getting the social benefits. Twenty million was an earth shattering amount of money. Twenty million would let James get his phone shot in half every day for the rest of his life and not even see a dip in his bank account. Having it dismissed as far as costs went felt weird, even if he did know that large scale businesses just sort of worked with money at that level. ¡°Why not yikes?¡± He asked. Moving up to the side of the table and adjusting the blueprint against Bill¡¯s attempt to hold it up for James, Benson gave an answer. ¡°The plant would produce, on the low end, 6,000 megawatts. This structure, just this structure, with this magic you guys have, would power the state of Oregon. All of it. It would cost less than a tenth what is currently spent, though obviously there needs to be a lot of work still done to keep power lines and substations operational.¡± ¡±Which is our job anyway.¡± Jim added. He stuck his hands in his pockets, suit jacket draped off him like a professional model as he cocked his elbows and let James scrutinize him for a moment. Then he added what they needed James to sign off on. ¡°We want to build three of them. To start. We¡¯ll foot the bill for construction. As long as you can provide the magi, and our current agreement on profit margins stands, we¡¯ll handle everything. Just give us the go ahead.¡± ¡°¡­well that¡¯s¡­ terrifying.¡± James heard himself saying. This was, very abruptly, something that was a larger scale than how he¡¯d actually imagined this working. In all honesty, he hadn¡¯t really believed that they¡¯d do more than end up making some novelty generators to power the Lair and maybe Townton. ¡°How much do you plan to make on this? Money wise, I mean.¡± As Benson started to talk, Jim held up a hand and man went silent. It made it pretty clear that one of them was the other¡¯s superior in their company. Jim spoke evenly, but there was something in his voice that James couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡±Well, as per our original contract, we¡¯d be cutting costs. So we¡¯d have less income than we do now. But with zero emissions, almost no overhead, massive government subsidies and contracts, and the ability to rapidly expand into neighboring markets? Even just having the costs slashed would let us charge half as much and make four times the profit. And then, when you rule the world, we¡¯ll be in your good graces.¡± The last part of his sentence caught James off guard, and genuinely amused him. He laughed. And no one else in the room did. Jim just kept watching him, calculating though not cold or hostile. Like when he said ¡®we want you to remember us when you take over¡¯, what he meant was¡­ That he expected that was true. For a moment, James let the room sit in silence as he considered something. Thermodynamic Tunnel was a fairly niche spell from the Climb that had been discovered in a battered and degraded spellbook. It wasn¡¯t that useful for delving or self defense, and in fact, it was kind of a tiny thing in the greater array of stuff the Order of Endless Rooms had access to. A small thing. One single small thing, a spell the dungeon probably didn¡¯t even consider that useful or impressive. But paired with modern technology, and modern expert knowledge, it was a solution to one of the biggest problems humanity had. All it took was a bunch of experts with specialized knowledge, and a global web of production and resource extraction, so that they could build specialized buildings with specialized tools, that could suck the energy out of heat differences in the air. And if you had that, then you had everything. Which sounded a bit stupid, except¡­ except they did have that. They had that right now, a prototype sitting here in the room, and the engineering workforce waiting to put it into action. Countries, including the one that James begrudgingly called home, had proven themselves willing to go to war for strategic reserves of oil, just because of how useful a constant source of power in that form was. Millions of civilians had died for something very similar to what James and the Order planned to give away. It was a source of almost impossibly massive political and social and financial power, and right now, it felt like a twisted curse waiting for the right moment to kill them all. ¡°Not as tyrants, but as citizens.¡± James said softly. ¡°Pardon?¡± Jim asked him. ¡°We want to make life wonderful for everyone because we are part of everyone.¡± James said, looking up from the prototype and blinking his eye slowly as he made his decision. ¡°We are going to rule the world, maybe, actually.¡± ¡±¡­I know.¡± Jim didn¡¯t seem at all afraid of that future, though his colleague looked a little nervous. Like he might be implicating himself in a criminal conspiracy somehow. James should have him read the operations manual section on how they weren¡¯t a conspiracy. ¡±We¡¯re going to have more powerful stuff than just this. And we¡¯re going to share that too.¡± James said, suddenly smiling placidly. ¡°Do it. Start with three, then we can work on expanding. Orange totems maybe?¡± Bill made a noise like he was suddenly at risk of organ loss. ¡°For this? Fucking absolutely not. Reed would kill all of us.¡± ¡±Touche.¡± James said again, before checking an ongoing Order vote through his skulljack, seeing overwhelming approval, and giving the room a quick nod. ¡°Alright. Yes. Get to work, and let me know if there¡¯s any problems.¡± He walked out of the basement feeling like his day was only half over, and he had already given the status quo of Earth all the middle fingers he had available today. Maybe he could get another delve in, and find an orb or a spell that would give him an extra one. Chapter 303 ¡°I get it. This won''t stop until I die. But when I die, I want it to hurt. When my friends leave, when I have to let go, when this entire town is wiped off the map, I want it to hurt. Bad. I want to lose. I want to get beaten up. I want to hold on until I''m thrown off and everything ends. And you know what? Until that happens, I want to hope again. And I want it to hurt. Because that means it meant something. I means I am something, at least...pretty amazing to be something, at least..." -Mae Borowski, Night In The Woods- _____ Over time, the places James considered home seemed to be expanding. Sometimes, often really, it was his apartment. The place he shared with Anesh and Alanna and Sarah. And also Auberdeen, and Rufus, and Ganesh as well. He was trying to get out of the habit of thinking of Lily as a roommate, both because the iLipede had been moved to a more friendly environment for her species in the basement, and also because it turned out iLipedes just didn¡¯t really grow in intelligence like striders did. James occasionally looked at Rufus, and felt a heavy concern for the little guy, paired with a simmering anger at the dungeon for its irresponsible touch when it came to creating its Life. Rufus had started out as a feral animal level mind, that had taken a long time - potentially years, it was hard for anyone to know - to grow into a reasoning creature. But why was a question no one could answer. Strider brains were a mystery for now, and while James didn¡¯t like just calling everything magic and leaving it at that, he did feel like getting smarter was a special stapler spider trait. Like how camracondas had their freeze ray, or chanters grew plants. Rufus was a part of what James considered home though. Which was why, sometimes, home was the Lair. Visiting someone in one of the apartments, hanging out in the baths after a particularly grueling and traumatizing event, going to movie night, sampling weird potions in the basement, chatting with new arrivals and old friends, or even just the simple fun of watching - and sometimes ¡®helping¡¯ - with one of the games of Ball that the youth group played in the back parking lot. The Lair had become a source of comfort for James, because it was a place where he poured his hopes and dreams for a compassionate community, and the horizon of the future. That future showed up a lot around here, in a bunch of different forms. Sometimes it was Marlea, with her newly integrated fourth member, just¡­ being a hive mind. Being something totally new and never before seen on this world, walking around and drinking pumpkin spice lattes on the way to planning for a Climb delve. Sometimes it was Ava and Hidden slinking around and making friends, being another novel thing; a child growing up with her sister who just happened to be a not-so-imaginary friend. Sometimes it was a much more clear ¡®the next generation¡¯ kind of future, when Morgan and Liz and Color-Of-Dawn just kind of existed in the Lair, each of them a weird form of chosen one, each of them coming of age in a world of magic and wonder, but where they were also trying to figure out college plans, and how to have a relationship when you were the only ones in your peer group who thought polyamory was normal. The Lair wasn¡¯t perfect. People here still got into arguments or had falling outs. No one was immune to fucking up. But when they turned so much of their attention toward actually making a world they all wanted to live in, the sting of those mistakes was blunted a bit. Today, for James, the Lair was home for another reason. It was the place that had food, and a table large enough for a bunch of his friends and loves to sit at and have lunch together. Or try to anyway. For some of them, they were finding their attempts interrupted by James and Zhu. ¡±Check this one out!¡± Zhu said eagerly, sliding a glossy picture across the table with his talon extending off James¡¯ arm as his host nibbled on chips. ¡°I like this one. It looks cool.¡± James kind of agreed. ¡±Also the¡­ I wanna say ¡®technical specs¡¯ but that¡¯s not right is it?¡± ¡±The power. The clarity!¡± Zhu shifted the photo to the side, moving copies of a medical textbook out with incredibly detailed diagrams. ¡°It¡¯s perfect!¡± Alanna and Anesh, all three of them holding their sandwiches in loose double handed grips but not taking bites of them, stared at James and Zhu with a solid wall of disapproval. ¡°Why is Zhu carrying around pictures of eyeballs.¡± Alanna ¡®asked¡¯. Slowly, keeping his smile fixed in place, James reached up and gently tapped on his eyepatch. ¡°Cause¡­¡± ¡±Ah.¡± Anesh shook his heads and took simultaneous bites of his food anyway, one of him chewing a little faster so he could comment. ¡°See, I didn¡¯t guess that, because this picture looks like it has feathers.¡± He said, tapping the zoomed in high res image that could have been a passable yellow orb if not for the black ring in its center. ¡±The picture does have feathers!¡± James said happily as he crunched into another chip. ¡°That¡¯s an eagle. Bald eagle specifically.¡± He grinned almost sheepishly, rubbing his cheek as he looked over toward the others heading for their table. ¡°I figured¡­ you know. If I¡¯m gonna fix myself, I may as well go for an upgrade while I¡¯m at it, right?¡± Having wound their way through the other tables in the busy dining area of the Order¡¯s full time eatery, Keeka and Arrush sat on the bench to James¡¯ right, making the table feel exponentially more occupied. ¡°Yes!¡± Keeka said as he overhead the last of what James was saying. ¡°I will help you, if you need it! I am very good at the tricks to it!¡± ¡±Oh hey, yeah.¡± Alanna nodded, tearing her eyes away from where the picture of the bird eyeball was still watching her. ¡°I kinda always forget you two were pretty modified before¡­ uh¡­ shit, sorry.¡± Arrush¡¯s sad smile on his newly reforged muzzle looked right at home there. ¡±It¡¯s okay.¡± He said, pausing after a couple words for a breath he didn¡¯t need to take anymore, and then jerking his head from side to side as he remembered. ¡°We were. But Keeka was always better at it.¡± Arrush¡¯s boyfriend shifted closer to him, bifurcated tail spilling over the back of the bench to wrap around his partner¡¯s own version of the appendage while the rest of his body nestled into the space between Arrush¡¯s upper and lower arms on this side. The cute moment was sort of broken by Dave arriving and announcing himself with a ¡°Hey guys!¡± that worked to break the spell of open love the two ratroaches were under. Dave didn¡¯t notice, and just dropped onto the other side of the table with his plate of hamburger and pasta salad. ¡°Haven¡¯t gotten to do this in a while, huh?¡± He asked, laying his arm on the table to let the small paper drake crawl down it and sniff around his tray. ¡±¡­Dave, did Pendragon shrink?¡± Anesh asked as the little creature wandered slightly around the dining surface. ¡±What? No, that¡¯s silly.¡± Dave took a large bite of his food and watched his new friend as he chewed. With that non-answer standing in the air, and Keeka now trying to simultaneously cuddle Arrush, eat his own food, and reach out to entice the little dragon over to him, James simply leaned back in his chair and watched. ¡°I missed this. A lot.¡± He whispered to Zhu. ¡±I know. It¡¯s¡­ weird, I guess is the word? I know I can¡¯t only live these experiences, or I¡¯ll starve. But because of¡­ because of the disease, I feel more active here. I almost feel like you!¡± The navigator fluttered his glowing feathers in a laugh. ¡±We¡¯ll find something.¡± James whispered. ¡±Sure whatever. Ask about the dragon.¡± Zhu whispered back. Alanna beat them to it. ¡°Dave. Hey. Dave. If Pendragon hasn¡¯t regressed, why do you have a dragon?¡± She talked around a mouthful of food. ¡±Uh¡­ because I¡¯m raising another one? I don¡¯t understand the question.¡± Dave shrugged as he kept eating. ¡°Isn¡¯t that normal though? James got a new friend after Rufus and Auberdeen grew up!¡± Feathers curled slightly against James¡¯ skin, betraying Zhu¡¯s alien nature. ¡°Oh, I am not okay being the ¡®new friend¡¯.¡± The navigator sounded like he¡¯d just eaten his version of an entire lemon. ¡±Yeah that¡¯s weird.¡± James commented as the little dragon slowly reached out its black plastic alligator clip head to nip lightly at Keeka¡¯s outstretched paw. Then an echo of a memory hit him, and he struggled to keep his breathing even as he grappled with knowing that Zhu hadn¡¯t replaced Rufus or Ganesh or Auberdeen or any physical Life, but someone who would have been a lot more deeply connected to James. Someone he¡¯d never know. The moment was gone in a flash; James had talked to his therapist enough about this, he could handle it. His grief was real, but it wasn¡¯t¡­ something he needed to focus on now. He¡¯d do that on his own time. ¡°Those are mostly people, too, not animals. Is¡­ is Pendragon an animal? Or animal level? Yeesh, our lives make classifying this kind of thing so hard.¡± ¡±It¡¯s always been hard. Pigs are basically smart dogs, but everyone thinks they¡¯re okay to eat.¡± Anesh pointed out, which got a wide eyed and somewhat horrified look from Arrush, who shifted away from Keeka to slowly pick his own sandwich apart. ¡°Also James can we¡­ can the pictures not be on the table? Being observed by a single floating eyeball is not making lunch easy.¡± ¡±Oh! Sure, sorry.¡± James rolled his shoulder and prompted Zhu to pull back the sheets. ¡°So is Pendragon okay?¡± He focused on the important matter at hand. ¡±Yeah? I mean, just cause an animal grows up doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re dead James.¡± Dave gave him a short little laugh. ¡°Auberdeen is fine, right?¡± Anesh laughed stiffly. ¡±To be fair, Auberdeen showed up fully grown. Also yes, she is fine. She¡¯s at anime night with some of her classmates tonight, I guess.¡± Stopping midway into bringing a chip to his mouth, James froze in disbelief, mouth hanging open. ¡°Wait, hang on!¡± He exclaimed, tossing his food back to his plate. ¡°Auberdeen has an anime night, and we don¡¯t? That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s just depressing! I¡¯m depressed now.¡± ¡±Can we not make an anime night?¡± Arrush pronounced the unfamiliar word slightly odd, but with genuine curiosity. ¡°Is it fun?¡± ¡±Uh¡­ I guess so?¡± James met his newest boyfriend¡¯s myriad offset eyes. ¡°Actually yeah? Yeah, we probably can! I mean we¡¯ve sorta got some breathing room right now, don¡¯t we?¡± ¡±Isn¡¯t the world ending or something?¡± Dave asked. Zhu¡¯s talon slid across the table to try to prod Dave, until James noticed and jerked his arm away with a laugh. ¡°We¡¯re working on that!¡± Zhu informed him. ¡°Some¡­ somehow!¡± ¡±Constant preparation to address crises.¡± James said, nodding stoically with his eyes closed. ¡°Doing stuff like¡­¡± he waved around the crowded dining room and the chatter of all the people in the Order who were having lunch here. ¡°¡­you know. Response and Recovery and Research are part of it. Training and improving ourselves. Learning more magic, and how to use it. Doing what we can to strengthen the world and humanity. Even this,¡± he pointed at Pendragon Two - a name he hoped wasn¡¯t correct - as he talked, ¡°is important! Pendragon has saved our lives and been a critical part of our operations multiple times. Raising more dragons like her is¡­ you know, building the future.¡± James shrugged, suddenly realizing he was rambling. ¡°Sorry.¡± He apologized for no reason as he went back to eating. ¡±Magic like the car dungeon?¡± Arrush asked, taking a long and even breath before adding, ¡°The parking lot. Not the other different car dungeon with the moose.¡± ¡±Wait the what.¡± Dave¡¯s head snapped up from where he¡¯d already destroyed half his burger. ¡±Route Horizon has motorcycle moose.¡± Alanna said, rubbing her hand forcefully across her jaw where one of them had tried to murder her last time she¡¯d seen them. Though in the moose¡¯s defense, Alanna was trying to ride it sidesaddle at the time. ¡°Well, more of an elk really.¡± Arrush nodded, a small smile creeping onto his muzzle again as the constant conversation gradually made him feel more and more comfortable being in public despite how he felt about his changes. ¡°It was¡­¡± he stifled another unnecessary pause, ¡°very funny. Once Alanna wasn¡¯t trampled to death.¡± Alanna nodded in a rapid blur of loose hair. ¡°I¡¯m really good at not being trampled to death!¡± She told the table. While Anesh casually rubbed at her shoulders in a comfortable exalting gesture, Arrush slowly let himself relax, and Dave vacuumed up his food like he was in a hurry to get somewhere, James and Zhu just relaxed, both of them laying their connected arms flat on the table as they watched the others banter and eat. The only people missing from his close social group were Sarah and TQ, but the human was currently doing an acclimation day with a few new hires, and the camraconda was helping out with something in Townton. ¡±So are we going back?¡± Arrush asked him, dragging James out of his distant mental space. ¡±Hm? Back where?¡± ¡±The dungeon that¡­ has cars. The parking lot. That one.¡± Arrush¡¯s conversational floundering this time was entirely because he tripped over his words and not because of a physical impairment. Alanna¡¯s head snapped up from where she and Keeka were now both trying to feed the new little dragon from a box of paper clips that Dave had handed over. ¡°We should name that one.¡± She said, a sharkish smile growing on her face. She opened her mouth again to say something else, but James quickly held up a hand and stalled her. ¡±Momo called dibs on one of them.¡± He told her. ¡±That¡¯s fine, she can name the other one!¡± Alanna laughed. ¡°Also it¡¯s fine, I don¡¯t have any real ideas. I was just gonna channel Sarah¡¯s joie de vivre and put some semi-absurd words together and call it¡­ I dunno, Pylon Motoroic or something. That sounds kinda dumb? No, that sounds dumb.¡± Alanna picked up on feelings of amusement from the people around her, and quickly ditched the dumb name. James paused only briefly, and then slowly started clapping. ¡°That¡¯s good!¡± He declared, getting a look of embarrassed pride from his girlfriend. ¡±I like that one!¡± Zhu added. ¡°Mostly because it¡¯s kinda dumb!¡± ¡±I don¡¯t really like that one,¡± Dave chimed in as his pet dragon was slowly corralled back to his side of the table, ¡°because motoroic isn¡¯t a word.¡± For a brief moment, James had to wonder if Keeka was preparing to lunge across the wide lunch table to try and tackle Dave. He smiled at the look on the ratroach¡¯s face; the lack of a human shape not stopping him in the slightest from understanding exactly what Keeka was feeling. He didn¡¯t need Alanna¡¯s Empathy power - though she was look at the ratroach in the same way, so it clearly worked too - to know that Keeka was having the most common reaction to being exposed to Dave for the first time in a social context. James really did think Dave was his friend. He¡¯d also told Dave that directly, because a good friend wouldn¡¯t give the gift of ambiguity to someone that had a problem with it. But wow could Dave be kind of a dick sometimes. ¡±We¡¯ll put it on the list of ideas.¡± James said as Arrush slowly lured Keeka back to a sitting position by scratching a claw across the back of the thin band shirt Keeka was wearing. ¡°Dave, do you have any ideas?¡± He tried to not make it sound too accusatory. Not not accusatory, but not too accusatory. ¡°Double Park?¡± Dave asked with a shrug, and got a series of groans at the pun he hadn¡¯t realized he just made. ¡°Because it¡¯s a parking lot, but also a park park, right?¡± ¡±¡­That¡¯s¡­ you¡¯re so close to being clever.¡± Anesh told him with a shake of his heads. ¡±Oh. Uh, thanks!¡± Dave looked up happily from where he was coaxing the paper dragon to crawl up to his shoulder again. ¡°Anyway I¡¯m done eating and I gotta go. You guys have a good one!¡± He made his escape the way he did most things; bluntly and rapidly. Keeka watched him go. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ um¡­ I know Dave is your friend¡­¡± ¡±Dave¡¯s kind of a dumbass.¡± Alanna told the small ratroach, leaning past an Anesh to steal one of Keeka¡¯s fries as a gesture of friendship. ¡°He¡¯s our friend but he says stupid shit all the time. Anyway. Arrush, you were talking about the dungeon?¡± ¡±Oh. Yes.¡± Arrush¡¯s mixed insect and mammalian eyes looked up from where he was staring in light confusion at his plate of food. ¡°Isn¡¯t it one of the places we should go to, a lot? It gives out easy magic. Even if it isn¡¯t¡­ isn¡¯t¡­ dangerous? It still feels better to have.¡± James nodded and tapped his nose before pointing at Arrush. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s also kinda easy to move people through in numbers. There¡¯s a few issues with it, like how it¡¯s only open half the time and the other half the entrance goes to the other dungeon. Which means that, because of the time dilation, there¡¯s a double stretch of time inside where the exit doesn¡¯t work? We need to test telepading out, too.¡± He struggled not to sigh at the overwhelming number of things the Order had on its plate. ¡±The biggest issue is actually using the points it gives.¡± Anesh said. Alanna elbowed her smaller boyfriend. ¡°We don¡¯t know they¡¯re points.¡± ¡±They¡¯re called AP, and they level up abilities. They¡¯re ability points.¡± Anesh had an opinion on this. He figured, and was pretty sure he was correct, that they were overthinking things when they refused the simple solutions. ¡°Oh, fine.¡± He relented as Alanna tried to shift him off the edge of their bench in protest. ¡°The issue is using the AP.¡± ¡±No?¡± Arrush looked confused at that, too. ¡°It was easy to use.¡± Anesh nodded at him. ¡±Exactly. That¡¯s the problem. We don¡¯t want people leveling up in breathing and walking - unless they want to obviously - we want people leveling up in¡­ well, what they want.¡± He dropped the crust of his sandwich onto his plate, finishing a small final bite of the parts he wanted. ¡°So if it¡¯s that easy, we need to figure out how to get materials and opportunities to the area around the entrance. So delvers can come out and instantly start working on programming or sewing or brain surgery or whatever new and terrible thing Research is doing this week.¡± ¡±Aren¡¯t you Research this week?¡± James prompted with a smile. ¡±Yes. That¡¯s how I know.¡± Anesh smiled back. The other Anesh continued with a shake of his head. ¡°Also there¡¯s so much that¡¯s worth testing there.¡± Arrush shifted like he had something to say, but didn¡¯t want to interject. Two people noticed, and both Keeka and James silently drew Anesh¡¯s attention to the nervous ratroach, opening up a long pause where Anesh placidly waited for Arrush to speak up. ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Arrush started to say, before cutting himself off. He was still working on that. But at least he knew to work on it now. ¡°Magic?¡± The word was said like a question, but Anesh didn¡¯t know how to answer it. ¡°Magic what?¡± He asked. Alanna¡¯s eyes abruptly widened. ¡°Oh. Oh shit, magic.¡± She slapped a hand onto the arms of both Anesh next to her. ¡°You guys, magic.¡± ¡±Are you making fun of Arrush?¡± Keeka asked, eyes narrowed at her. ¡±No, this is what Alanna does when she¡¯s actually excited.¡± James answered. ¡°But I don¡¯t¡­ get¡­ whyyyyy magic!¡± He slapped a hand into his forehead, Zhu making a startled revving noise as the navigator jerked his talons away before skewering James¡¯ other eye. ¡°Arrush you¡¯re a genius!¡± ¡±You¡¯re all exhausting.¡± Anesh declared. ¡°Arrush? Elaborate please, before I get a headache?¡± Arrush sagged slightly as he realized that things were mostly okay. ¡°All the other magics, they¡­ um¡­ feed each other. They all work together. Shouldn¡¯t this one do that too?¡± He unconsciously mimicked how James talked and started to craft an example. ¡°If¡­ if we get a point, and cast a Climb spell, would we level up in that spell? Or Breath magic? Or something else?¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡±That¡¯s an interesting question.¡± Anesh nodded. ¡°I think that we could-¡° he was cut off as his double leaned over and slapped a hand on his arm just under where Alanna¡¯s was, ¡°-yes?¡± He asked himself. ¡±Oh! Magic!¡± The other Anesh declared. Anesh stared back at himself, until it clicked in his brain, and his own eyes widened. James decided to cut in. ¡°This is hilarious to watch. Good idea Arrush, I bet that¡¯s gonna be absurd, in a way that¡¯s good for us.¡± He took a breath. ¡°The only issue now is getting Lincon or someone else to show us the other entrances, especially the unmonitored ones, so we can secure our own access. The Mormons are considering letting us check out the non-car park next month, but our agreement never specified entrances they haven¡¯t found, sooo¡­¡± James gave a coy shrug, accentuated by Zhu¡¯s gravely chuckle. ¡±I don¡¯t like this.¡± Arrush hissed out a whisper, mostly to himself, but some of the others managed to hear over the noise of the crowded dining area. Alanna¡¯s raised eyebrows in his direction pushed his own ashamed gaze down to the table where his boyfriend was still being silly. ¡°The agreement. I don¡¯t like it.¡± He said louder. ¡°It¡¯s not fair. You didn¡¯t make an agreement with the Sewer when you realized about us. Why are we being nice to them when they¡¯re¡­ like this?¡± James held back a grimace as he awkwardly stared through the gap between the others and toward the main hall into the dining area. Watching a few others wander in for lunch, and trying to figure out what facial expression he was supposed to have as he nodded in a friendly way at Morgan while he tried to figure out what to say to Arrush. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated.¡± He said. Sensing a sudden spike of complex anger from Arrush, Alanna jumped in. ¡°James isn¡¯t saying that cause he thinks you¡¯re dumb, he¡¯s saying that cause he thinks he¡¯s dumb and he¡¯s buying time to think.¡± She told the upset ratroach who shifted against Keeka as he tried to push back his anger and found it easier than normal. ¡°But I¡¯ve got an answer, if James doesn¡¯t mind!¡± ¡±Please, yes.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± Alanna set the edges of her hands on the table and met Arrush¡¯s eyes. ¡°Diplomacy is a good idea because it¡¯s a replacement. You¡¯re pissed off, right?¡± Arrush nodded at her, a couple of his eyes flicking to the side like he was still worried he was walking into a trap. ¡°Right. Exactly. And they¡¯re probably also annoyed on the other side. I mean, I know they are.¡± ¡±It was kind of inevitable when James got involved.¡± Anesh said in a forlorn voice. Alanna shuffled a hand through his hair as she continued. ¡°All that ¡®being annoyed¡¯ stuff, it¡¯s in place of ¡®being wounded¡¯ or ¡®being dead¡¯. That¡¯s the point. We could solve our problems by killing each other until one side is dominant, sure¡­¡± ¡±But!¡± James added, ¡°It¡¯s important that neither side wants to do that! They might all be shitty people who suck, but shitty people still have friends. They¡¯ve got people they care about and don¡¯t want to lose. And that matters more than supremacy at the risk of annihilation.¡± Alanna nodded, and kept drawing on her deeper civics knowledge, the information only a little bit augmented by her litany of yellow orbs. ¡°So with the most radical portion of their leadership¡­ uh¡­ James¡¯d¡­¡± ¡±You are not allowed to call it that.¡± James protested as Arrush and Keeka made chittering laughs. ¡°Besides, that¡¯s inaccurate. They¡¯re neither dead nor converted to members. And those are my signature moves.¡± Continuing undeterred, Alanna ignored her partner. ¡±¡­they¡¯ll find it harder to continue the worst parts of their operation. We get to reform parts of what they¡¯re doing, make sure they play by some rules, and we get it at a great deal because all we have to do is not use their dungeon breaches without permission.¡± Arrush¡¯s sigh caused a rapid clicking as he let his muzzle open freely, the glowing interior no longer at risk of melting anything if he wasn¡¯t careful. ¡°I¡­ I understand¡­¡± he said the word slowly. ¡±But he thinks we should have taken all their stuff!¡± Keeka cheerfully added, astutely parsing his boyfriend¡¯s wants and needs. Needs like ¡®having all of the spellbooks so their enemy had none¡¯. James covered a laugh with the back of his hand. ¡°Alright, well,¡± he said with light amusement, ¡°I agree actually. We never found the spell that blanks streetlights, which¡­ I mean, I don¡¯t ¡¯want it¡¯, but completion is important to me. And the number of mindful reverberation spellbooks they have is insane, so I know they have more of the fucking things. I doubt we could get all of them, but it means they have a way of copying spellbooks, and the fact that they refuse to share it is annoying. Can you imagine if it worked on Climb or Sewer books?¡± ¡±Or just on anything in general?¡± Alanna pointed out. ¡±It doesn¡¯t.¡± Anesh answered confidently. ¡°Otherwise, why would they be collecting recycling to turn into gold?¡± ¡±Touche.¡± James smiled at Alanna, only briefly distracted when he realized Zhu was messing with his surviving potato chips and rearranging his plate into a crunchy mosaic. He didn¡¯t bother stopping the navigator, wanting to see where this was going, but he kept talking as he watched. ¡°Yeah, anyway, the point of diplomacy is mutual benefit. We get their ethical behavior and some dungeon, they get us not fighting them. Everyone ¡®wins¡¯. But it does feel gross after what they did to all those kids.¡± ¡±I have a question.¡± Keeka¡¯s suddenly solemn voice got everyone¡¯s attention, even Zhu, who stopped trying to create art of out James¡¯ lunch. ¡°Can I talk to them?¡± ¡±The¡­ Mormons?¡± Anesh asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good idea. They seem¡­ James if I say they seem racist is that correct? They seem really racist though.¡± ¡±No!¡± The arms on Keeka¡¯s right side flailed at the closets Anesh, who caught one and briefly held his new boyfriend¡¯s hand for a second. ¡°Well, yes! The young ones! Can I talk to them?¡± He reiterated his request. ¡°I just¡­ I think I know what it¡¯s like. I think I could listen to them, and understand, and help.¡± The simple fact that Keeka¡¯s first instinct these days was to help, even people he¡¯d never met, was uplifting to James. Especially because he knew how far Keeka had come from the scared and traumatized person he¡¯d been when he¡¯d first teleported into the Lair. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Was how he answered, though. ¡°A lot of them¡­¡± Well, a lot of them were fucked up, was what James wanted to say. The Order was learning, over the last week, that there were basically two types of magic students in the Mormon church. Either the ones who were faithful already, who rapidly became the kind of fanatical True Believers that were both problematic and dangerous, and the kind who didn¡¯t really want to do this at all, and had started to take damage to their psyche from the stacking contradictory beliefs. ¡°A lot of them are hurting in a way I don¡¯t think you can help with. They¡¯re kind of erratic, cause they¡¯re the ones that the brainwashing didn¡¯t fully take on.¡± ¡±I could still try.¡± Keeka pressed. ¡°I know they might think I¡¯m wrong. I don¡¯t care.¡± He was sitting upright now, a pair of his hands clasping Arrush¡¯s mismatched limbs for support. ¡°I could help! So I should.¡± ¡±Speaking of fanatics¡­¡± Zhu whispered ever so softly, possibly directly into James¡¯ thoughts. James gave Keeka a sad smile. ¡±Yeah.¡± He said softly. ¡°Okay. We can try. I¡¯ll get you in touch with Recovery.¡± ¡°The others?¡± Arrush asked, voice thin. ¡±The others?¡± James and Alanna echoed. He nodded, antenna bobbing softly as he scratched at his wiry tan fur. ¡°The ones that it did ¡®take¡¯ on.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± James slumped. ¡°They¡¯re mostly still down there.¡± Because, especially for the ones that were adults now, it was hard to negotiate for more than simply making the abuse stop. ¡°And I kind of¡­ I kind of want to see what we can do about that? But I don¡¯t know where to start. Tactical strikes seem too obvious, but I really want to break their shit and take their stuff and drag all those people somewhere safe to help fix them.¡± Arrush moved like he wasn¡¯t sure if it was okay to reach out to James, and ultimately decided that the table was too large for it to not be awkward regardless of if he was ¡®allowed¡¯ to. ¡±I will help.¡± He stated, determined. ¡±We can call that Plan C.¡± Anesh said. ¡±C for Crime.¡± The other Anesh added. ¡±James our boyfriend is becoming a Vaudeville routine.¡± Alanna tried to put one of the Anesh in a headlock and got dodged, her boyfriend narrowly ducking the grab and equally narrowly avoiding sending what was left of his food off the edge of the table. James laughed as the other Anesh gently stole the finished plates and stacked them in the center of the table, where his counterpart and his girlfriend couldn¡¯t cause a calamity with them. Glancing over at the pair of ratroaches sitting at the table, James decided to shift over to the side a little and get closer to Arrush. ¡°Hey. You doing okay?¡± He asked. ¡°Just¡­ you know, in general.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t know.¡± Arrush answered honestly. ¡°But I¡¯ve been worse! And that means this can¡¯t be that bad.¡± He gave James a tentative smile while Keeka leaned into him, distracted by something on his phone. The smile held for a second, and then slowly stretched wider, his angular face stretching into a more toothy grin. As he watched, curious, James figured out that Arrush was testing what he could do without hurting himself. Little things about his new body that he hadn¡¯t fully explored over the last few days of self-confinement. ¡°You look cute like that.¡± James said without thinking, and then smiled himself as he watched the exposed hide around Arrush¡¯s eyes flush a neon green that was practically iridescent. ¡°Also like that! Man, I wish when I blushed it literally glowed.¡± ¡±There might be a potion for that!¡± Keeka offered, turning to prop his legs up on the bench and his back planted firmly against his larger boyfriend. The swirled ends of his antenna bobbed as he tilted his head back and looked away from his phone. ¡°They have one that makes your eyes glow now!¡± ¡±Ooh, I¡¯m interested in that.¡± Alanna ceased her attempts to playfully attack Anesh and focused on what Keeka had said. ¡°Does it give night vision or something?¡± James gave a single sudden bark of laughter. ¡°Nope!¡± He declared. ¡°It literally just makes your eyes glow, and reflect light so they glint a lot more. We¡¯ve got a lot of it! You can pick some up at the allocounter. The¡­ the allocation counter. My mashup name doesn¡¯t work, ignore me.¡± Sitting up and rolling his shoulders as he recovered from surviving his girlfriend¡¯s affection, Anesh straightened his collars and cleared his throats. ¡°We have a couple others, too. Red was, and is, doing some large scale brewing experiments, and if they work but aren¡¯t super useful, we just let people have them for fun. There¡¯s one that induces synesthesia for numbers too, which sounds like hell.¡± ¡±Is that not¡­ wouldn¡¯t that just be cool for you specifically?¡± James asked. ¡±No. Partly because I am not defined by my maths degrees, and also partly because I would like to go about my day without having an acid trip.¡± The corner of Anesh¡¯s mouth quirked downward in a sad frown. ¡°Unless someone gets forgotten again, obviously.¡± ¡±Hey, veering hard away from that depressing morass,¡± Alanna bumped her shoulder into Anesh in a less combative and more comforting move, ¡°what the hell is the alchemy department even doing? How come our successes are weird and our failures are¡­ actually I never hear about the failures?¡± ¡°Because the- oh, thank you.¡± Anesh paused as a nervous human teenager and an even more nervous ratroach of impossible to determine age, both in black aprons, swept by their table and rapidly made off with the empty plates. ¡°I forgot we weren¡¯t at home.¡± He laughed to himself, echoing what James was thinking in that very moment. ¡°Anyway, the failures are frequent, and some of them are somewhat gruesome. And some of them are enigmatic, which worries me more. Like the happy rats.¡± ¡±I am a happy rat!¡± Keeka said, peeking over the edge of his phone to gaze at Anesh with his upper eyes. Zhu tapped a talon musingly on the end of James¡¯ hand. ¡°Happy rats worry you more than dead rats?¡± He asked. ¡°That sounds¡­ wrong somehow.¡± ¡±We still don¡¯t know why the rats are happy, or what the potion did to them. Also the infomorph that Nik tried to use to communicate with them just didn¡¯t take; I guess rats aren¡¯t exactly complicated enough to grow an assignment, even if they are the smartest rats we¡¯ve ever seen.¡± He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m upset? Research is genuinely magical. You should all come visit and help out, it¡¯s fun. All of you except Arrush, I know you already do help out.¡± ¡±You do?¡± James arched his available eyebrow. Arrush ducked his head. ¡°I pick sap. It¡¯s not that helpful.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not not helpful. And you¡¯re objectively better than Nik ¡®Callous Disregard For Climb Spell Safety Protocols¡¯¡­ uh¡­ whatever Nik¡¯s last name is.¡± Anesh¡¯s blush was less pronounced on the one of him that wasn¡¯t talking, but there was some splash damage from the embarrassment of not knowing his coworker¡¯s whole name. ¡°Anyway you¡¯re great and we¡¯re glad to have you.¡± He finished to Arrush. ¡°Also if anyone knows how to talk to happy rats, we¡¯re looking for suggestions.¡± ¡°Entice them with garlic bread.¡± Arrush offered, pointing a claw down at Keeka. The sudden way that Keeka¡¯s eyes lit up and his whole body moved like he was ready for garlic bread made James and Zhu burst out laughing in unison. The two of them shaking together with mirth as Keeka chittered out a defense. ¡°That,¡± James gasped out as he raised his head from the table, ¡°is the-¡° he didn¡¯t get to finish his sentence before there was a light pop of air and someone landed with shined black dress shoes on the empty bench that Dave had been sitting on. Whatever noise James made, he wouldn¡¯t deny that it was startled. If the incoming teleport didn¡¯t get people¡¯s attention, his high pitched squeal was certainly loud enough to silence the conversations at the nearby tables in a wave of curious looks shot in his direction. On the other side of the dining room, the pair of kids who were bussing tables simultaneously dropped the stack of dishes each of them had, a startled fumble at James¡¯ panicked yell turning into the clatter of porcelain, quickly followed by someone who had the aura of a Response knight organizing their table to help get stuff quickly cleaned up. ¡±Sorry!¡± James called out an apology as the intruder hopped down off the bench. ¡±JP what the shit is wrong with you?¡± Alanna demanded as their friend looked around for a more comfortable chair than the long bench he had landed on feet first. ¡°You know you¡¯re not supposed to do that.¡± Dusting off the cuff of his jacket like he was disappointed with the quality of the crumbs in the Lair, JP looked around at the cluster of his mostly familiar social circle and nodded. ¡°Good, you¡¯re all here.¡± He said. ¡°I have need of your particular services.¡± ¡±Crime?¡± Arrush asked, recovering first. ¡±Yeah it¡¯s mostly crime.¡± Zhu agreed. ¡°We¡¯ve been discussing it in your absence.¡± James crossed his arms, mindful of Zhu¡¯s manifestation as his navigator moved to add his own additional limb to the folded limb stack of disapproval. ¡°You are really good at only showing up when I¡¯m trying to have lunch with people I¡¯m dating.¡± He told his friend. ¡°How come we never hang out anymore when you don¡¯t want me to do crime?¡± ¡±It¡¯s not crime!¡± JP protested. A little too loudly to be unnoticed, as at least two camracondas at an adjacent table started discussing what kind of crimes JP needed people for today. ¡°But yes, your polycule being an adventuring party is convenient for me! And you¡¯re our only designated problem solver, so-¡° Alanna huffed out a heavy breath. ¡°I¡¯m so fucking angry that you¡¯re not wrong.¡± ¡±Also that last part isn¡¯t true, Simon is back now. You can just call him. He¡¯s probably downstairs at his place.¡± James pointed out. JP pressed his hands into his forehead, staring down at the ground with a maddened gaze. ¡°Oh my god, this was a mistake. How did you ever start a coherent organization? No, don¡¯t answer that.¡± He straightened up, puffing out his chest and taking a long breath. ¡°I need you in your role as paladin. Spire-Cast-Behind and Alex have both requested help, and I don¡¯t want to split attention too much. I¡¯ve got a team assembling for Spire¡¯s thing, which means I need you to go meet Alex and figure out what she needs.¡± ¡±You don¡¯t know?¡± James sharpened his focus on what was maybe a serious matter. ¡±Of course I know. I know she asked for help, but she was cryptic about it, and might be held prisoner, which is why I¡¯m sending you.¡± JP said. ¡°But I doubt it. Planner says there¡¯s some kind of infocloud, so I¡¯m sending you to be safe. I¡¯ll add Simon to the other side, he¡¯s good at punching things, right?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for James to reply. ¡°Take whoever you feel like, I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be a big deal and we can always teleport reinforcements in.¡± James nodded. ¡°Alright.¡± He agreed. ¡°Anyone wanna go on an adventure today?¡± He asked the table. Alanna¡¯s hand shot up right away, a grin on her face, and Arrush mimicked the motion with that slow stretch of figuring out that he could move without pain. ¡±I¡¯m out.¡± Anesh said. ¡°One of me is still sore from getting shot, and the other me doesn¡¯t want to figure out what that feels like.¡± He added. ¡°James should be out too! James you¡¯re still half blind!¡± ¡±It¡¯ll be fine.¡± James said, not dismissively, but with a quiet confidence that he would be able to handle it. ¡°Keeka?¡± ¡±¡­Arrush is going.¡± Keeka said. Before he could add to that, Arrush wrapped three of his arms around his partner, pulling him close. ¡°You were also hurt.¡± Arrush said quietly. ¡°And you weren¡¯t fixed fully.¡± He knew talking was still hard for Keeka, and would be for weeks to come, but he didn¡¯t want to bring that up around everyone else right now. ¡°This won¡¯t be the same as the last one. Will it?¡± He actually wasn¡¯t sure, and directed the question at JP. ¡±Nah, we¡¯re not setting up in the area, just going to check on Alex.¡± JP wobbled a hand. ¡°Spire¡¯s thing seems like it¡¯s a bigger problem. Some kind of zombie apocalypse giant monster thing I guess?¡± He recoiled from the alarmed and pointed glares everyone at the table gave him, three different species expressing displeasure with him for burying that lede. ¡°It¡¯s fine! It¡¯s not a big deal, I swear! Especially with Planner riding along, you know?¡± JP watched as James and Zhu uncrossed their arms, just to sit straighter, and cross them again to make a point. ¡°I swear, I¡¯m making it sound worse than it really is. It¡¯s fine. Can you just go check on Alex? I¡¯ve got an address for you, you can leave whenever.¡± James sighed. ¡°Alright.¡± He said. ¡°Alanna, Arrush, and I¡¯ll take care of it.¡± He looked at Keeka and gave a tilt of his chin. ¡°Can you keep an eye on Anesh for me? Literally everything he said about Research today has made me terrified I¡¯m going to come back and find that he¡¯s caught fire again.¡± ¡±Again?!¡± Keeka¡¯s alarm came out as a clicking squeak. ¡±That was over a year ago, and only happened once.¡± Anesh protested. ¡°That you know of.¡± The other Anesh said under his breath. ¡°You see why I need you keeping an eye on our boyfriend?¡± James said with mock seriousness, smoothly soothing Keeka¡¯s anxiety while still managing to get a prod in on Anesh. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get gear together and leave in¡­ twenty minutes?¡± He asked the others. They nodded, and James turned to JP. ¡°We¡¯re on it, go back to¡­ hey aren¡¯t you supposed to be in Alaska right now? Hang on.¡± JP¡¯s answer was quick and nonspecific. ¡±I wear many hats.¡± ¡±Like a toque?¡± Zhu questioned. In reply, JP quickly pulled a telepad and vanished, giving a small mock salute to the table. ¡°I bet he wears a toque. He seems toquey.¡± ¡±I dunno what that means.¡± James said, circling the table to give Anesh goodbye kisses, and a more chaste hug to Keeka who sort of indicated he¡¯d like one as James passed. ¡°Anyway. What do we need for this?¡± ¡±I¡¯d like a camraconda, for one thing.¡± Alanna said as she stood and stretched, towering over the others. ¡°I know Ember has the day off, I¡¯ll go ask him if that¡¯s cool.¡± She got a nod in response, and waved as she took off, walking like a mostly normal human to cut through the fifty other people having lunch in this room and go find her Responder partner. James looked back at his big ratroach boyfriend. ¡±Arrush, you need anything specific?¡± ¡±Armor.¡± Arrush said, almost sheepishly. When James raised his eyebrow at him, he clarified. ¡°Mine¡­ doesn¡¯t fit anymore. I changed enough. The shirts fit, but the armor doesn¡¯t.¡± It concerned James that Arrush had tried on his own armor before he¡¯d talked to any of his friends, in the wake of his change. But he didn¡¯t say that. ¡±Oh! Right, I¡¯m positive someone here has a Refit blue. You wanna take care of that, while I go get stuff from the armory?¡± Arrush nodded at him, standing slowly while still keeping some of his limbs wrapped around Keeka. ¡°Alright. Meet in the lobby when you¡¯re ready.¡± James hesitated for a moment, not sure how comfortable with physical affection Arrush would be right now, before a light motion from Zhu tugged him a step forward and into a quick hug. James smiled at how much more solid Arrush felt now, looking into his eyes from up close and seeing a cautious anxiety about everything that they¡¯d probably need to talk about soon. They could figure it out later though, they¡¯d have time for all of it. And then James and Zhu were left to their own devices to figure out what was needed. Right after James texted Simon to be prepared for JP, and his first official paladin operation. One which might involve some kind of kaiju, if James had paid attention properly, so maybe requisition the fireball gun. Which meant the fireball gun wasn¡¯t on the list of things James could take, but that was okay. He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted for their little group. James might never be fully in the mindset of being completely prepared for a fight to the death at any given moment. But he¡¯d walked into enough situations underprepared at this point that he wasn¡¯t interested in doing it again if he could help it. Which meant one thing. Backups. Multiple shield bracers for everyone was a given. But more than that, multiple telepads was important too. Extras for when someone got hit in an awkward spot, because blue imbued items were bad for combat situations. That was also why James didn¡¯t pick out any of the leveler equipment that had extra blue powers; it wasn¡¯t worth the risk of it spontaneously combusting mid fight. Sometimes they did things that were worth the risk though, which was why he got a pair of the identification glasses, and also two of the laser pointers that broadcast your own emotions onto anyone you hit them with. They might break, but they were small and kinda replaceable, and the effects were useful. A lot of Officium Mundi dungeontech was useful, really, but weighing their group down with random gear that they weren¡¯t completely comfortable with was a bad idea, which was why James wouldn¡¯t let Zhu bring the nerf gun that shot spiders. He did grab a couple copies of the logos statuette that he¡¯d used in Utah; the little figurine that, when activated, would let whoever was winning a fight start grabbing weapons out of other people¡¯s hands. James had heard someone describe it as ¡®perfectly fair, because it¡¯s symmetrical¡¯, which was technically correct and also a complete fucking lie, considering he had no intention of acting like an anime character and announcing to any opponents what the thing did. For himself, he also grabbed an upgraded drone controller to clip into his skulljack braid, and a set of quadcopters to use for surveillance. And also a suit jacket that let him sense the presence of bugs nearby, which he quickly put back on the hanger. Partly because it looked dumb over his teeshirt, and partly because James didn¡¯t think he could live with himself if such a treasure got converted into a blue orb the next time someone stabbed him. He was already assuming that someone was going to stab him on this outing. When James got back to the Lair¡¯s lobby, feeling like he was about to step out for a mild errand, the other three met him there looking ready for anything. ¡±Where¡¯re we off to?¡± Alanna said, patting Arrush on the shoulder and finishing their chat as James approached. ¡°Somewhere exotic this time? Oh! Alex was in Egypt, wasn¡¯t she? This¡¯ll be great! We can show Arrush pyramids.¡± ¡±Well she was.¡± James checked his phone - three fourths charged, that was probably fine - and got the address JP had sent him. ¡°She is not now.¡± Zhu peeked at the address in James¡¯ thoughts. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s¡­ actually no! I won¡¯t be disappointed! This is an adventure and a jaunt!¡± He insisted, mostly to himself it seemed. ¡±That¡¯s what disappointed people say.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said. ¡°Also hello. I am here.¡± The sleek camraconda gave James a downward bob in greeting. ¡±Hey Ember. Thanks for coming along by the way.¡± James grinned as he wrote onto a telepad, and then extended a hand toward Arrush. ¡°But yeah. Right now? Everyone get ready for the exotic and distant locale of Oklahoma.¡± Chapter 304 ¡°Basic stuff first: Never be cruel, never be cowardly¡­Remember, hate is always foolish, but love is always wise. Always try to be nice, but never fail to be kind.¡± -The Twelfth Doctor, Doctor Who- _____ ¡±Oklahoma smells odd.¡± Smoke-And-Ember decided within a second of the teleport landing. Next to the camraconda, Arrush took a deep breath, and then another one where he actually focused on smelling the air, before nodding in agreement. James rolled his eye. ¡°Everyone¡¯s a critic.¡± He said, feeling a strange sense of embarrassment, even though this wasn¡¯t his home city, or even state. Not that he was responsible for the way those places were either. It was like he was suddenly feeling like he hadn¡¯t cleaned up his apartment before having guests over, but his apartment was just¡­ Earth? ¡°Alanna, you good?¡± ¡±No, yeah, I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m just waiting for you to finish your existential crisis before I say it also smells weird. I think there¡¯s a paper factory upwind here or something.¡± Alanna shrugged with one shoulder, the other bearing the strap of the heavy bag that had all their armor in it just in case they needed it. ¡°Where are we?¡± Where they were was on a street corner, at midday. And while they were in what was clearly a mostly residential area, and the overcast sky overhead, there were still about a dozen people within eyeshot, either out walking or doing some gardening. Many of them were staring. The houses in the area weren¡¯t run down, but they were old, and showing signs of having survived a lot. Across the street in front of the group, there was a pathway made of barkchips up against battered white picket fences. On the other side, a woman with a hose pretended to be tending to her roses while she watched the four of them with curious eyes. The house on the opposite corner from where they¡¯d landed looked like half of it had been rebuilt at some point, mismatched lines of wood and brick that gave the one story structure a lot of character but also a feeling like it had been through a lot. It was slightly colder than where they¡¯d started from. A little breezy too, Zhu¡¯s feathers fluttering in the air against James¡¯ clothing. But not unpleasant, and James appreciated teleporting into a place that wasn¡¯t experiencing an unseasonably stormy day for a change. ¡±Oklahoma.¡± James said, looking over his shoulder at the building they¡¯d actually come here for. The telepad had put them on the curb in front of it, but that was fine. It was hard to miss the red brick of the old schoolhouse building. This place would have been central to the community back when it was in operation; only one story like most of the other homes around here, but sizable enough to have a dozen classrooms and maybe a library. James¡¯ elementary school had been bigger and more modern, but he could feel the similarity in kind from this places. A lot of little kids had learned and grown up here, before it had been shut down and sold off. As for who the new owners were, why Alex was here, and why help was needed, James could only answer one of those questions by looking at the solid awning that shaded the front doors. Northern Oklahoma Proud Grandparents Adventuring Society, read the words that had replaced the old designation for where or whoever this school was named for. ¡±Ooh. Classy.¡± Alanna nodded in approval. ¡°Man, when I¡¯m old, I wanna be part of an adventuring society! That sounds rad! You think Alex found this place and has mistakenly assumed they¡¯re all delvers?¡± ¡±I think Alex might have gotten kidnapped by real actual delvers.¡± Smoke-And-Ember answered. ¡±It¡¯s an Elk¡¯s Lodge, but¡­ uh¡­ no, there¡¯s no but. This is just an old folk¡¯s hangout spot.¡± Alanna waved her free hand. ¡°It won¡¯t be that bad.¡± Smoke-And-Ember hissed abruptly enough that Arrush flinched. ¡±Every time you say that, it is that bad. This is why I don¡¯t let you speculate when we are at work.¡± ¡±We¡¯re at work now!¡± Alanna protested. ¡±And I¡¯m trying to stop you!¡± The camraconda replied. ¡±This is hilarious.¡± Zhu commented, eye rolling around James¡¯ shoulder to watch them as his host turned away. James shared a look with Arrush, the ratroach seeming just as lost as he felt. ¡°You know, I knew intellectually that Alanna went out and did daily Response adventures and stuff.¡± He said. ¡°But it¡¯s different and kind of hilarious to suddenly be exposed to the fact that my girlfriend has banter and in jokes with other people that I just am not familiar with.¡± ¡±Oh. In jokes are¡­ the ones that are only funny because they remind you of something, right?¡± Arrush asked, and James nodded. ¡°Okay. I have one of those.¡± ¡±¡­Like, in general?¡± James asked. ¡±No, with Alanna.¡± ¡±Oh! That¡¯s cool!¡± And also, James thought, but deliberately did not say, that made him wonder if he was somehow neglecting his partner. Did he not spend enough time hanging out with Alanna to have secret references with her? Or did they have secret references, and he just didn¡¯t think of them that way because it had been ten years and that was just how he talked normally now? ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s great actually. I¡¯m glad you two get along by the way.¡± He told Arrush instead. ¡°Hey, so, are you two done?¡± ¡±What?¡± ¡°Eh?¡± Ember and Alanna looked up from where they were arguing about whether curses were real to see James staring at them with his hands on his hips, coat tugged in the breeze behind him, sleeves pulled up enough to reveal the first set of shield bracers he was wearing. ¡°Oh, yeah, sure.¡± Alanna said, clearing her throat. ¡°Do we just walk in?¡± ¡±That¡¯s what I¡¯m gonna try!¡± James said cheerfully. ¡°Let¡¯s go with plan A.¡± ¡±For¡­ assault?¡± Arrush sounded preplexed. James shook his head with a small laugh as he started walking across the empty asphalt in front of the building, past the flagpole that had a US and an Oklahoma flag flying on it, and toward the door. ¡±No for¡­ nothing. It doesn¡¯t stand for anything. Plan A is always saying hi and being nice until someone gives us a reason not to.¡± Arrush blinked his eyes in a circular sequence. ¡°Always?¡± He asked. ¡±Well, it should be. It wasn¡¯t always, but I want it to be now.¡± James tried not to dwell on all the times he¡¯d fucked up that principle. His ratroach boyfriend nodded at his side. ¡°Then it can be plan A for Always.¡± ¡±¡­I like that.¡± James agreed with an unseen smile. ¡°Zhu, you mind hiding for a bit?¡± ¡±Yeah that¡¯s good.¡± The navigator replied in clipped words. ¡°Getting tired anyway.¡± James held a hand against the back of Zhu¡¯s talons as the orange manifestation sunk into his skin, offering a bit of comfort as Zhu receded. If he needed him, he¡¯d ask. Until then, he could nap, and it was one less surprise he might have to explain to a bunch of random octogenarians if it turned out they weren¡¯t delvers or something like it. The front door of the Northern Oklahoma Proud Grandparents Adventuring Society was, as it turned out, unlocked. Inside was a tiled stone floor with an old and faded school emblem on it, a half dozen wooden shelves containing bowling trophies and photographs behind thin glass doors, and a hallway that stretched left and right away from the ¡®office¡¯ that was probably central to the school building. No one greeted them, and no one was in the office either, so James shrugged. ¡°Anyone see any signs?¡± He asked, looking for guidance. ¡±There is a library that way.¡± Smoke-And-Ember pointed one of his mechanical arms. He was wearing a heavier backpack today, James noticed. Four different limbs, all of them seeming to move a lot faster when he did move them at all. ¡±Well, I do like libraries.¡± James shrugged, getting a noise of earnest agreement from Arrush The group made their way down the hall, the stone clearly worn with age but kept clean with the kind of care that you just didn¡¯t get if someone didn¡¯t actually like the place they were maintaining. Even if they were paying for a cleaning service, it wouldn¡¯t feel this nice in here, James figured. Boots, sandals, and plate made different sounds as the group walked and slithered their way toward the library. They all kept their eyes open, as the place felt quiet but not abandoned. The walls had more photos hung on them, along with other keepsakes. Blue ribbons and certificates, a clumsily but passionately painted mural at one point between two classroom doors, things like that. The classrooms - or the spaces that used to be classrooms anyway - themselves had the lights off but they weren¡¯t locked or sealed. One of the doors they passed was open and the interior of the room seemed to have a quartet of pottery wheels set up, the smell of clay heavy in the air around it. The whole place smelled of a variety of different things, actually. Cigar smoke was definitely a constant undertone that James could detect, but it was underneath pine wood and fresh baked goods. It was like the best and worst parts of his grandma¡¯s house from when he was eight years old, long before she¡¯d passed away, and the sudden nostalgia that familiarity brought hit him like a truck. James didn¡¯t realize he had silent tears on his cheeks until he¡¯d fallen behind the others, and Arrush was asking him if he was alright. ¡±I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m fine.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ll talk about it later.¡± This wasn¡¯t the time, and he didn¡¯t know if they were being listened in on. Or if nostalgia was some kind of memetic attack, though he assumed Zhu would warn him if it was. The building wasn¡¯t so large that they had to do a lot of actual exploring to find the library. The fact that there were signs to it helped, and the fact that someone had penned in quotation marks around the word ¡°library¡± on all the signs sort of made James think that it was somewhere interesting. When they got there, they found a space with no doors at all; just a square arch formed by the building¡¯s support beams, and another on the other side. A wide open room with a higher ceiling than the rest of the place, and, surprisingly, a few bookshelves. So it was technically a library, even if the rest of it wasn¡¯t. There were a few tables set up, as well as a semicircle of well loved leather couches in one corner surrounding a big screen TV. Just inside the library, pressed up against the wall to the left in a little nook, there was a table with a handwritten sign on it that said ¡°free jam!¡± Behind it, mason jars of homemade jam sat in a pyramid, with a pile of a familiar vegetable stacked next to them and a followup sign that added ¡°take a zucchini or else!¡± One of the bookshelves looked like it had a collection of old board games on it, and at least one of the scrabble sets was in use at one of the tables. A rather fat black and white cat sat in one of the chairs, watching the word game in action. And there were humans here too. Playing scrabble, watching baseball on the big TV, reading a book in one of the plush lounge chairs. Every one of them was definitely in the age range where James and Alanna could believe they were grandparents. For their nonhuman friends, it was harder to tell, and a good portion of the ten or so people in the room were hard to pin down the actual age of. Any hair that wasn¡¯t dyed had at least a little white in it, but everyone looked alert and vibrantly alive in a way that defied casual judgements about how old they were. In fact, everyone here looked¡­ well, ready for an adventure, in truth. James saw a couple of canes leaning against the couch where a cluster of men were cheering and laughing at a home run that had just been hit, and some of the college sweatshirts and puffy jackets were hiding beer guts. But for the most part, the people looked like they had a confidence to their movements, along with a lack of the pain that James knew came with growing old. He was only just over thirty, after all, and he already woke up some days feeling like his back had given up. Fifty years, if he didn¡¯t fix it with magic, would make it so much worse. Most of this James took in at a glance, with the others shifting around behind him in a row, standing in the entryway. Arrush held back as soon as he heard human activity, just in case, still endlessly nervous about how anyone would react to him in a way he had mostly given up on working past. Smoke-And-Ember just stuck to Alanna¡¯s side though, moving in a very specific flank as the two of them circled past James. And while they¡¯d only been standing there for a few seconds, there was the unmistakable sense that they were being scrutinized. All of them, equally observed, even though no one was openly staring at them. ¡°Well that¡¯s weird.¡± Alanna muttered, before switching to skulljack comms with the others. ¡°Every single person here has three constant emotional threads going on, and it doesn¡¯t seem to be stressing them out at all. They¡¯re all feeling a deep sense of satisfaction and compassion for¡­ I guess in general, that one¡¯s hard to pin down. They¡¯re all feeling their moment to moment emotions about what they¡¯re doing right now, which, not to waste time, but there¡¯s a lot of investment in fuckin¡¯ scrabble. And they¡¯re all feeling protective and focused.¡± ¡±They¡¯re watching us.¡± James said in the same method. ¡°Which, I mean, we¡¯re standing in the open. Should we go say hi?¡± ¡±Let¡¯s.¡± Smoke-And-Ember switched where his digital words were going and slithered across the line. ¡°Good afternoon. We are looking for our friend.¡± He said while James and Alanna tried not to tense up in preparation for finding out this building was full of vampires or something. When the two women and one man playing scrabble turned to look at the camraconda, Smoke-And-Ember got the distinct impression that them turning their heads was a polite affectation. Working in Response, he¡¯d gotten very good very fast at knowing when humans were watching him, and while it was hard to tell here for some reason, nothing changed when the trio actually locked their eyes on him. But when one of the women started talking, the tension diffused quickly. ¡±Well hello there!¡± The grey haired presumable grandmother stretched out her vowels as she greeted the group. ¡°Chuck, we¡¯ve got guests!¡± ¡±Woman, I¡¯m trying to spell exaltation, don¡¯t distract me.¡± The man next to her, the aged skin of his face dotted with a hundred freckles, didn¡¯t look up from his row of scrabble tiles, but did get swatted on the back of his head by the other woman at their table. ¡°Ow! Elder abuse! This is elder abuse!¡± He declared as his turn at the board game was interrupted. The woman who¡¯d said hello shook her head and stood with an easy movement that was smoother than her old bones looked capable of. ¡°I¡¯ll be back. Don¡¯t cheat again.¡± She told her companions, walking toward the library¡¯s entry passage. ¡°Well hello to the five of you!¡± She greeted the group again, still smiling. ¡±Good afternoon ma¡¯am.¡± Alanna said politely out loud. Over their silent skulljack network, though, she pinged an instant alarm that this woman had their actual group number, including Arrush around the corner, and Zhu who wasn¡¯t active. ¡°I hope we¡¯re not breaking and entering.¡± ¡±Oh, heavens no. We¡¯re always happy to have new faces around here! Are you visiting? You said you were looking for your friend?¡± She raised thin eyebrows at Smoke-And-Ember, addressing the camraconda directly and seeming unphased by the species gap. The camraconda bobbed politely, keeping his mechanical limbs folded against his back. ¡°Yes, her name is Alex Wolly. She contacted us from here, and implied she needed help.¡± He paused briefly. ¡°I believe she is in her mid twenties, if that is important information.¡± ¡°Oh, Alex! Yes, yes, your girl is here. She¡¯s been helping us out with things our old backs can¡¯t move too well. Oh! Where are my manners, do come in. Have a seat! I¡¯ll send Archie out to fetch her for you.¡± The woman turned and her attitude in a flash went from the nicest old lady inviting them in, to a walking fury yelling across the room. ¡°Archibald! Get off your decrepit old behind and make yourself useful! Go get Alex for us, you lout!¡± ¡±Oi! Don¡¯t give me orders! I outrank you!¡± A raspy smoker¡¯s voice yelled back from the couch. But even through the protest, a man in a wrinkled tan suit rose up and gave a single jaunty wave over his shoulder as he headed for the opposite door. ¡°Stop yelling, I¡¯m going!¡± He added, despite the lack of further yelling. Their greeter turned back and motioned everyone in, moving back toward her table. ¡°My husband, who I love very much.¡± She said. ¡°And now-¡° ¡°Ah.¡± James paused, worried about cutting her off. ¡°Our fourth is¡­ a bit shy.¡± He glanced at Arrush, lurking out of sight behind the wall. ¡±Because he isn¡¯t human.¡± Smoke-And-Ember added, usefully. ¡±Well! Sometimes I think the same thing about my Archie. But that doesn¡¯t stop anything. Now get in here, I¡¯m tired of standing!¡± The woman dismissed the concern and kept walking. ¡°I¡¯m Eileen, by the by. And you are?¡± ¡±James.¡± James said, following first. ¡°This is Smoke-And-Ember, and my partners, Alanna and Arrush.¡± Eileen retook her seat, motioning to the empty chairs around the varnished wooden table next to hers. ¡°Never lose that courage.¡± She said quietly, turning to look at them, eyes sliding over Alanna and Arrush mostly. ¡°And it seems you have a type, young man!¡± ¡±I had a list, in my head, of ways today could possibly go.¡± James said easily as he looked back at Alanna with a bemused look, taking a chair and waiting for her to sit next to him. ¡°This? This was not on it.¡± He glanced back at Eileen and her friends who were only half pretending to be engrossed in their scrabble game while somehow carefully watching the Order team. ¡°Who are you guys?¡± He asked. ¡±Northern Oklahoma Proud Grandparents Adventuring Society, of course.¡± Chuck answered, freckled face still focused on the word tiles, eyes moving with a sharp intelligence. ¡°Didn¡¯t you read the sign?¡± ¡±Yes, and the sign explained everything perfectly with no room for error.¡± Smoke-And-Ember supplied. ¡°Aren¡¯t humans supposed to become wiser as they age?¡± The man looked up suddenly, eyes glittering as he forced himself not to smile. ¡°Now what moron told you that whopper? I¡¯ll tell you who didn¡¯t get wiser as they aged-¡° ¡±Careful¡­¡± The other woman sitting next to him laughed. ¡±¡­everyone in this building except for Mary.¡± He finished. Smoke-And-Ember looked between the two of them, before focusing on the man again. ¡°It would seem you have gained some wisdom in your years.¡± He stated. ¡±Touche!¡± Chuck laughed, before sliding forward to lean on the table and examine the Order group. ¡°So. Who are you then?¡± James wasn¡¯t sure if he was having a conversation or being interrogated in the most sneaky way possible. ¡°Well, you got our names.¡± He said, shifting in the oddly comfortable plastic frame chair. ¡°We¡¯re from the Order of Endless Rooms. We¡­ uh¡­ I guess we¡¯re a fellow adventuring society, though we¡¯re not gated to grandparents.¡± ¡±It would be difficult. Some of us cannot reproduce.¡± Smoke-And-Ember commented directly, before Alanna went through choking on a laugh and trying to silence her fellow Responder. If Chuck was bothered by it, he didn¡¯t let on. ¡°We¡¯re not really either, suppose.¡± He didn¡¯t say anything further, but there was definitely body language between himself and Mary that made it feel like there was a hidden tension at play. ¡±Anyway.¡± James moved on. ¡°We do our best to help people. Also we have magic? I¡¯m realizing that I never actually figured out how to tell people about this. I need to have an intro speech written for this kind of thing.¡± The mangled explanation didn¡¯t phase Chuck, who just nodded along. ¡°Alex is one of yours?¡± He asked, and James nodded, wondering why Alex hadn¡¯t just told them about the Order already. Maybe she had, and he really was being interrogated. ¡°Good kid. She did us a favor the other day.¡± Eileen completed her turn, spelling out something that James was pretty sure was a latin word for an obscure snake, and looked over at them as she passed. ¡°You¡¯re wondering if we¡¯re keeping her hostage, arent¡¯cha?¡± She asked. ¡±Little bit.¡± Alanna said bluntly. ¡°How long as she been here?¡± ¡±Day and a half, maybe.¡± Eileen answered. ¡°She had a little bit of a shock. Our resident world¡¯s most grandma had to patch her up, which might be why she was confused if she called you.¡± ¡±Oh she¡¯s not a prisoner.¡± Chuck snorted. ¡°I think the kid got bored and just started moving boxes for fun. Not like we don¡¯t have a lot that needs doing around here.¡± ¡±¡­Yeah¡­¡± James said, looking around the old library turned common room. Obviously there was something off here, but it was only now that he was starting to put it together. For one thing, the people here, healthy and active despite their age, weren¡¯t just in good shape. They were in good shape. A few of them had signs of being military veterans; hats or pins or such. But everyone had a kind of hardened air to them, despite the friendly atmosphere. Even the woman currently stocking up on shortbread cookies from their little coffee bar had scars and muscles. He didn¡¯t envy her chances in arm wrestling Alanna, but for someone who was pushing eighty, she would put up way more of a fight than should be expected. And around them, there were small signs. The big fishtank against one wall had fish in it, but also something shadowy at the bottom that set off a sense James didn¡¯t typically use in the mundane world. The coat rack looked like it was carved out of a wood that, if James focused on it under the coats, had an oily rainbow sheen to it. The cat was taking a turn in scrabble. ¡±Oh my god.¡± He whispered as he saw it. A hand shot out and shook Alanna¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Alanna. Do you see it?¡± James demanded. ¡±I see it.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said, watching the cat as it got the word ¡®Jurassic¡¯ on a triple letter score space. ¡±I don¡¯t! James what the hell?¡± Alanna resisted being shook. So James leaned across the table, grabbing Arrush¡¯s claws in his fingers. ¡°Arrush! Do you see it?¡± He excitedly asked. Arrush wasn¡¯t sure, and he was also feeling really uncomfortable with how many new humans were here and watching him, even if they were all somehow not looking at him. But James was excited, so he tried to control his trembling and focused on the room. On the humans he¡¯d never met, but who had their own odd little rituals that he wasn¡¯t sure on the nature of. On the objects that clearly had their own stories. On the little weird things that set this building apart from any of the other places he¡¯d ever been to out in Earth. And he had, by now, been to a fair few ¡®normal¡¯ places. Enough to realize quickly what James was talking about; from the people to the props, it all came together and Arrush saw. ¡°I see it.¡± The ratroach said, seven eyes all widening slightly in wonder as he saw the room through a new light. ¡°We are sitting in a Lair.¡± ¡±We¡¯re old, we¡¯re not dragons.¡± Ellie laughed at the comment. ¡±We call our home the Lair.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said. The freckle faced old man let out a belly laugh that got jeers and calls for quiet from the others still watching their baseball game or reading in the other parts of the room. ¡°On purpose?¡± He asked. And then gave an elegant shrug and tilt of his head. ¡°Ah, maybe it¡¯s different for you? Do your people do lairs?¡± The camraconda¡¯s lens irised at his conversation partner. ¡°My people are wider than you think. My species does not do lairs, no. Most of us have had enough of dens and boxes for whatever our lifetimes will be.¡± ¡±See, you say that, but get to be my age and a good box starts sounding good.¡± Chuck offered. ¡°Aw, hell, no one else is asking. What are you, anyway? You look like my grandkids got into a computer and also the glue.¡± ¡±I am a camraconda.¡± Ember answered without complaint. ¡°And I may not live to your age. We do not know; I am an artificial creation by-¡° He stopped as Alanna gave him a silent signal. ¡°We can discuss details later.¡± He finished. So far, these people were being friendly, and that was a good sign. A lot of the time, when people were going to start a fight, there were signs from the start. At least, in James¡¯ professional opinion. And it was a professional opinion now; paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms was something he¡¯d built and earned the title for, and he¡¯d done it by surviving more hostility than most people ever had to. Friendly was good. Kind was good. And James was happy to reciprocate. But a silent exchange and a worried twitch of an eyebrow from Alanna was a reminder that they still didn¡¯t know what was up with Alex, or what was going on here, or if these people were actually trustworthy. Maybe they would be! That would be great, and the group wouldn¡¯t do anything to burn bridges. But maybe they wouldn¡¯t, and they didn¡¯t need to know that Arrush and Ember were from different dungeons. Or that dungeons were real, though the ship had probably sailed on that one. If Chuck was bothered by it, he didn¡¯t show it, instead just nodding along with a look on his face like he was committing the information to memory. Next to him, Mary checked the Order group, the hurt on her face slowly fading back into curiosity. ¡°What about yourself?¡± She asked Arrush in her reedy voice.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Arrush looked up and stopped fidgeting with the edge between his fur and chitin where one of his arms stuck out of his shirt sleeve. He wasn¡¯t not paying attention, but he was busy trying to figure out how many people were watching them currently. ¡°R-ratroach.¡± He stammered slightly. ¡±Seems rude?¡± Mary only half-asked, something like judgment in her words. It didn¡¯t bother Arrush though, and in fact, he brightened up at the statement, because he¡¯d had this conversation before. ¡°Ratroach could be worse. It¡¯s just a description. It¡¯s not¡­ it doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m a monster. It¡¯s just a thing I¡¯m called.¡± Arrush¡¯s smile slipped slightly. ¡°Most of what I am is horrible. But at least this part is fine, and everyone asked if I wanted to change it anyway. I don¡¯t want to though. It¡¯s already less silly than ¡®human¡¯. Human means dirt!¡± He supplied happily, a bright energy filling his words again. ¡±Does it?¡± Eileen asked, suddenly curious, and got an enthusiastic nod from Arrush¡¯s triangular head. ¡°Well that¡¯s perfect for you then Chuck! You dirty-¡° ¡±Oh look, Archie¡¯s back, thank Christ.¡± Chuck¡¯s words were at a higher pitch than he¡¯d been speaking so far, and no one really noticed anyway. James was too busy rushing to his feet, as three people walked into the room. Alex was one of them, one of the new paladin¡¯s arms in a light sling, but otherwise she looked hale and just casually happy. Archie was another, but he broke off quickly to get back to his place watching a ball game, cane tapping against the floor in an uneven pattern that made it feel like he didn¡¯t need it at all. And the last person, James had actually met before. Which was a problem. She was like an open warm oven on a crisp autumn day. Ice cream shared with a friend. The lingering scent of smoke from a driftwood fire, memories besooted into a favorite shirt. Your favorite cookies on the day you most needed them. Glowing, ceaseless compassion, wrapped in the body of a woman with a curved hawkish nose and eyes that were simultaneously staring at everyone in the room, and also nothing at all. The woman who James had only briefly met while she was busy stabbing the gravity out of him and murdering an Alchemist sniffed, swiping a thumb across her upper lip. And in that motion, there was a flicker of a change; a brief moment of a darker skin tone and thicker fingers, albeit fingers just as knobby as the ones she had before and after the change passed. Four messages overlapped on the skulljack link, though Arrush¡¯s arrived slower and was a different word than the other three. He was almost completely frozen physically, tense and ready to explode into motion, and had sent to the others that this was a threat. Being new to having a skulljack at all, he¡¯d been beaten out by the other three who recognized this kind of creature now more clearly, all of whom were in unison informing the others that what had just walked into the room was a pillar. ¡±¡¯s rude to pass notes under someone¡¯s nose.¡± The woman said as she walked forward just to Alex¡¯s side. ¡±They¡¯re like that.¡± Alex offered. ¡°Hey guys. Thanks for coming to pick me up. I¡¯m really starting to empathize with how often James gets his telepad stabbed.¡± ¡±¡­Alex?¡± James said, resisting his impulse to start flinging Paves and running for the exit. ¡°Who¡¯s your friend?¡± He asked as coyly as he could, putting some spice on his words. Around them, the room¡¯s vibe had changed. It wasn¡¯t that things had gone quiet, it was more that the Order group was suddenly all aware that they were surrounded by people who had gotten slightly quieter and more attentive. Alex looked unconcerned though. Not ignorant of the problem, but more like she was trying to signal that it wasn¡¯t a big deal. ¡°I mean, she kinda wanted to talk to you, so I¡¯ll let her do the introduction. I¡¯m gonna get a cookie, I¡¯ve been rearranging their storeroom all day and it sucks.¡± Alex turned and headed for the little counter with coffee and pastries. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry though, it¡¯s not a trap! Sorry, I just realized it looks like a trap! That¡¯s my bad! I can¡¯t explain why!¡± She called back as she worked on fitting an entire jam danish in her mouth. ¡°Is it?¡± James asked the woman who was keeping a respectable distance from them across the room by the other entrance. ¡±Come on.¡± She said, jutting a thumb over her shoulder. ¡°Walk with me. Anyone who wants to, I won¡¯t complain about company.¡± James looked at the others with raised eyebrows. ¡°We can keep passing notes.¡± Alanna said. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on Alex, just in case.¡± Smoke-And-Ember signaled that he¡¯d stay too, but Arrush rose to follow James. Just in case. And, unspoke, because Alex was acting weird. A little too calm, a little too casual. James had been on a few adventures with Alex at this point, and he knew for a fact that the girl was like him afterward; requiring a long time decompressing and talking over the various trauma in a hot pool before she really bounced back fully. With a quick nod, James followed the pillar out of the library of the old schoolhouse, Arrush at his side. The woman - pillar - led them out down a different hallway than the one they¡¯d come in from. There were a couple larger open walled class spaces here that looked mostly unused. Then the tiled floor went past a back entrance to the administration space, and sandwiched between that and another unmarked and opaque door - possibly a teacher¡¯s lounge or nurse¡¯s office - there was a windowed wall looking into a courtyard in the middle of the school building. The pillar opened the door to the outside space, leaving it open behind her as she walked outside into the sun, and took a deep breath of garden air through her nose. James cautiously followed, wondering if any of the ferns and cattails that were in this little wetlands garden were going to try to attack him. But it seemed like just an ordinary planted garden with a water feature and some rocks, sitting here in the middle of the school. He was frowning without meaning to, put off by the entire situation, and tried to rein in his emotions. Maybe he was being stupid; after all, James had made friendly enough contact with at least one pillar before. But the Right Person At The Right Moment was a lot more direct, and talkative, than this woman was. And it wasn¡¯t doing anything good for his nerves to not know what her intentions were. Without realizing that he¡¯d been staring, James blinked his functioning eye and realized that Arrush had walked past him, and was kneeling by the corner of one of the planters with the pillar, claws digging into the dirt as he helped her pull a weed out. James sighed, walked around Arrush on the little path of flat stones set into the ground, and bent down to a crouch so that he could help hold one of the bigger leafier plants back for his boyfriend. It didn¡¯t make him feel better, or less tense or afraid, but it was oddly helpful in some way he didn¡¯t fully understand to just have something to do. Especially since the third person here wasn¡¯t talking. The silence didn¡¯t last. After a few minutes of weeding, when the metal tub that had been turned into a garden plot was suitably weed free, the woman dusted her gloves off and looked up at the two of them, a normal number of eyes that were mostly stable meeting the too many and too few of the partners that had followed her. ¡±It¡¯s nice sometimes.¡± She said simply. ¡°Most times, really. To spend time with people who aren¡¯t kissing my ass. If you weren¡¯t afraid it¡¯d be a nice plus, but I guess you remember me.¡± ¡±It isn¡¯t personal.¡± Arrush told her as he let a set of his claws sink into the soft soil. ¡°I¡¯m always afraid. I¡¯m not more afraid of you.¡± The pillar eyed them as James reached his dirt-free hand over to rub Arrush¡¯s neck. ¡°Your boyfriend is.¡± She said. ¡±He grew up in this world.¡± Arrush explained, ignoring James¡¯ exasperated huff at being talked around. ¡°It¡¯s not his fault. He thinks being threatened is weird.¡± ¡±Okay now hang on.¡± James didn¡¯t want this turning into banter, but he couldn¡¯t just let that lie. The pillar cut him off, laughing in a way that was neither inhuman nor malicious. ¡°You can call me Kiki.¡± She said. ¡°You, I gather, are James.¡± She pointed to the human. ¡°Who¡¯s this handsome fella?¡± ¡±Arrush.¡± Arrush introduced himself plainly, so unused to being bluntly complimented that it didn¡¯t even register that it had happened. ¡±You two have some questions.¡± Kiki said, settling her hands on her knees as she relaxed, letting a small garden spider scurry across one of her fingers. ¡°Go ahead, I don¡¯t mind. I¡¯ve got a hell of a favor to ask, so I may as well butter you up first.¡± James had one immediate and important question. ¡°What happened to Alex?¡± He asked swiftly. ¡°Because from what I was told, she called us here for a problem, but it looks like she¡¯s fine. Except she¡¯s not fine, she¡¯s acting off, and she was injured. So¡­ what?¡± Kiki shook her head, a distant and sad frown on her lips. ¡°Short version¡­ there isn¡¯t time for the short version.¡± The old woman laughed bitterly to herself. ¡°You met Mary and Chuck? Their granddaughter just died a month ago. Murdered.¡± ¡±Shit.¡± James¡¯ eye widened fractionally. ¡°Wait, what does¡­¡± ¡±We were closing in. I¡¯m good, but I¡¯m not omnipotent. Your little hero beat us to the punch. Probably saved a couple Society lives doing it, I don¡¯t think anyone but me would have walked away from a fight with the killer without knowing in advance what they were in for.¡± Kiki looked up and focused on James. ¡°Ms. Wolly was hurt in the fight.¡± Tilting his head, Arrush tried to remember the last half hour. ¡±She didn¡¯t smell hurt.¡± He said. ¡±I put her back together. Mostly.¡± Kiki said. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ different. You might know a thing or two about that.¡± ¡±We have some experience.¡± James tried not to make it a joke. This woman didn¡¯t sound okay right now. And both his sympathy, and his anxiety about her known level of power and the erratic nature of pillars in general, kept him from wanting to be snarky. ¡°Generally we¡¯re pro-difference.¡± ¡±I¡¯ve noticed.¡± Kiki laughed a little more happily, shifting her hand to let the spider on her fingertip crawl back into the planter. ¡°If I help someone, they start to become mine. I¡¯d tell you not to worry, but I¡¯d worry myself sick about it. It won¡¯t hurt her, and I only did enough to let her keep the arm. But my people can¡¯t do a few things.¡± ¡±Like give details.¡± James intuited. ¡°Which is why her call was¡­ cryptic.¡± Kiki nodded. ¡±Something along those lines.¡± She confirmed. ¡°None of them can act against me. Even¡­¡± The pillar trailed off, and then switched what she was talking about. ¡°She¡¯ll get better, away from me long enough.¡± ¡±Even what?¡± Arrush asked, curious. The atmosphere in the old elementary school¡¯s courtyard swirled. Not from currents in the air, but currents in the hearts of every living thing there. Geographically located eddies of chaotic joy and compassion, swirling out from the woman sitting on a gravel walkway and staring at a spider building its tiny web like she was a rock in the middle of a storm. Or a rock conjuring a storm around itself. When she spoke eventually, it was with a lot less control over her voice, and certainly less control over her body, with small parts of her shifting into variant pieces of humanity for short seconds as she tried to sit still. ¡°Even if I ask them.¡± She said quietly. ¡±I have a question.¡± James¡¯ knees were starting to hurt, so he stood up to pace between the planter bins of trellised vines and flowers. ¡°Okay, I have a million questions, but one important one. You¡¯re a pillar, right?¡± ¡±A what?¡± Kiki seemed caught off guard by the question. ¡±A¡­ a pillar. The others, like you. You don¡¯t know?¡± James had been using the question as a starting point, he hadn¡¯t expected a no. ¡°Wait, Kiki, what are you?¡± ¡±Only pillars in my life are the ones holding up the roof.¡± She gave him a look that wasn¡¯t confused, but definitely didn¡¯t see where he was going with this. ¡°Others? There are other people like me?¡± She sounded, if anything, horrified. ¡±The¡­ the constantly changing form, the whole ¡®being incredibly dangerous¡¯ thing, the vibe where you feel like you¡¯re a massive natural force contained in a tiny shell¡­ the emotional limit is a little different but not by much, especially if¡­¡± James was waving his hands as he paced back and forth, then stopped, looking down at an open palm. ¡°Kiki.¡± He said. ¡±That¡¯s my name. Don¡¯t wear it out.¡± The woman¡¯s answer was said with a hint of humor and a lifelong worn reflex. James looked back at her. ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡± He said. ¡°Is it? It¡¯s not your original name.¡± ¡±Kids these days change names all the time. Why can¡¯t I?¡± Kiki asked. But she shrugged after saying it. ¡°You¡¯re right though. You know what it means? Or do you want me to tell you?¡± Closing his hand into a loose fist, James sighed, and knew with a tired certainty that he did have the answer. ¡°I¡¯m going to guess,¡± he said, ¡°that it¡¯s some form of Kill ¡®Em With Kindness.¡± Kiki¡¯s little half smile held the answer he didn¡¯t want, and a world of hurt and sadness. ¡°Some form.¡± She confirmed, clicking her tongue out of the corner of her grin and aiming a finger gun at James in affirmation. ¡±Then there are others like you.¡± Arrush said. ¡°You aren¡¯t¡­ alone.¡± The ratroach looked up at James, expecting the human to be happy about this, but James just looked as exhausted as he often did. Shaking his head, James gave Kiki the answer she didn¡¯t want to a question she hadn¡¯t asked. ¡°They¡¯re mostly dangerous, or crazy, or both.¡± He said slowly. ¡°We barely know anything about them. And if you¡¯re around, then we know even less.¡± ¡±Why would you ask?¡± Arrush cut into the silence to prod at something that hadn¡¯t really been covered. ¡±What?¡± James asked. The ratroach shook his head at James, and focused on Kiki, using the trick he¡¯d learned from the humans at the Lair to make a person feel listened to. ¡°Why are you asking them to hurt you?¡± He asked her. The storm of warmth and belonging around them threatened to overwhelm the ability for both members of the Order to form normal thoughts. But Kiki pulled it back, forcing a calm into the surroundings. ¡°Because of that.¡± She said, motioning into the air. ¡°And that.¡± She flicked her wrist in James¡¯ direction. ¡°My name. My¡­ power. What I am, it¡¯s not good for everyone around me.¡± ¡±Oh I think the building full of humans and one cat and probably also the fish all in peak condition living their best lives might disagree.¡± James countered, uncertain what he was arguing for. Kiki snorted. ¡°Of course they would. They can¡¯t not.¡± She clenched a fist, bones creaking. ¡°They¡¯re not making a choice, they¡¯re mine, and I can¡¯t fix them. But that¡¯s not the worst part.¡± Another long pause, as the old woman stopped speaking and instead spent a few minutes shifting the leaves of a tomato plant around. ¡°What is?¡± James asked eventually, standing at the end of the planter where she and Arrush were still kneeling. ¡±The name.¡± Kiki said. ¡°My name. It¡¯s dragging me through life like a leash. I¡¯m not who I was, and every day I wake up, I lose a little more ground.¡± She stared into her plants. ¡°I¡¯m old, kids. Older than the other fogies here by about two decades. Maybe that¡¯s not a long time for a pillar, god only knows how long we¡¯re supposed to live. But I¡¯ve had a good run of it. My grandkids grew up, and I got to be here for it. I helped out where I could. Maybe did a little good in the world. You know how that feels.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question, but James answered anyway. ¡°I do.¡± He murmured. ¡±So I don¡¯t want it all undone.¡± Kiki continued, nodding at the paladin. ¡°We¡¯ve met before. I know you¡¯re a tough kid. Got some tricks up your sleeve. And you¡¯re not shy about doing what you need to, are you?¡± ¡±¡­I am not, no.¡± James didn¡¯t like where this was going at all. ¡±Good.¡± Kiki said, straightening her back with a series of cracks and pops. ¡°Then I have a favor to ask.¡± James nodded, long motions of his neck making the gesture theatrical and impossible to miss. ¡±No.¡± He told her flatly. ¡°I need you to kill me.¡± Kiki said, ignoring him. ¡°Before I hurt anyone else.¡± James stared at her, trying to do his best impression of someone who was unimpressed and stoic, even while inside he was in a bit of turmoil. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what you are. Not really.¡± He said. ¡°Every encounter with a pillar has ended in, at best, no one dying. My friend once cut the legs off someone like you and the pillar just walked it off. I wouldn¡¯t even know where to start.¡± ¡±If we say yes.¡± Arrush added. ¡°We won¡¯t say yes.¡± The ratroach looked back to James for confirmation, before returning his constantly twitching gaze to Kiki. ¡°We are both trying to kill fewer people.¡± ¡±Well that¡¯s a hell of a thing to tell a fragile old lady.¡± Kiki smiled at them, and the two felt their hearts submerge into the sensation of being accepted for who they were and loved not in spite of it. ¡°Guess you¡¯re the right people to ask then! Besides, I see it in your eyes, you know I¡¯m dangerous. You know this is what needs doing. Your girl falling into our lap sure was some lucky break.¡± The coincidence, James actually thought, probably wasn¡¯t. In order from mundane to mystic, there were three things conspiring to put Alex - or anyone really - here in this place. For one, the Order simply knew the right questions to ask and had the resources to look in odd places, while slightly more immune to infomorphs than most people. But also, the induction ritual might still be active, the magic adding abstract momentum to Alex¡¯s activities and landing here here. And third¡­ well, The Right Person At The Right Moment had noted that whatever James was, it wasn¡¯t quite the same as most people. And his new paladins shared a part of that trait. So maybe, perhaps, there was some kind of destiny or fate that had pulled her here to find this place and this person. In his personal opinion, James thought the third option was the one he would like least, and therefore was the most likely to be true. Because while he didn¡¯t want to believe in destiny, he did somewhat suspect that the universe was just fucking with him for fun. James stopped packing on the gravel, reaching out to tap the fluffy end of one of the cattails growing in the small pond. ¡°In my experience,¡± he said slowly, ¡°whenever killing is presented as the only correct choice, it turns out, there¡¯s usually a better way.¡± ¡±Bah. You¡¯re still a kid to me, how often has that come up?¡± Kiki looked like she wanted to laugh, but the humor seeped out of her when James pointed a finger at Arrush and the ratroach raised one of his paws in acknowledgment. ¡°I suppose your surveillance serpent back in there is another example?¡± ¡±Oh man, serpentveillance would have been a great name for their species!¡± James felt the small amount of melancholy he¡¯d managed to hold onto in Kiki¡¯s presence vaporize anyway. ¡°But yeah, him, and all his people. And more besides. We¡¯re making a weirder world, you know? There could be a place in it for you. You don¡¯t need to be afraid of being different.¡± ¡±Twenty minutes ago you were thinking of how to shoot me enough to incapacitate me so you could flee the state.¡± Kiki reminded him. Arrush shifted forward, sitting with his side leaning on the planter and crossing his legs in a way that looked completely wrong with his digitigrade limbs. ¡°Twenty minutes ago¡­ we hadn¡¯t talked to you.¡± ¡±Yeah, talking fixes a lot of problems.¡± James said. ¡°Which is why I kept the shooting in the planning realm.¡± He cracked a smile. ¡°Even if we could, I don¡¯t know if we should or would. I don¡¯t even know what you mean when you say you¡¯re hurting people. So no, I¡¯m not going to agree to murder you right now, thanks.¡± ¡±Well I did think you might have a few questions.¡± Kiki said bluntly. ¡°You¡¯d be in a world of trouble if you didn¡¯t.¡± The impression that Arrush got from that statement was one of a barely concealed threat. The words were a strange form of reassurance; that the trap had been dodged without ever being seen. He didn¡¯t like it. It reminded him of his origin point, and the sensation of being toyed with by someone that could hurt him would never sit well. James suddenly standing behind him made Arrush aware that he might be making an unhappy clicking in his throat, and he cut the noise off as his human partner set a hand on his head where his antenna met chitin and fur. ¡°Let¡¯s work backward.¡± James offered. ¡°How exactly do you hurt people?¡± ¡±It¡¯s¡­ whatever this is.¡± Kiki gestured to the air around them. But also somehow to the magic itself, which was already eroding the distress Arrush had felt. ¡°It¡¯s already on you; how angry should you actually be right now? How pissed at being asked to kill? Yeah, there¡¯s the look in your eyes; well, too bad you¡¯re bothered by that, because you won¡¯t be for long.¡± The pillar snapped at him, her own ire disturbing the sensation of warmth and compassion in the air. ¡°People who are around me¡­ something goes wrong with them. And I can¡¯t stop it.¡± For most of the conversation, her voice had been weathered and a little rough, but still full of life. Now, though, she just sounded tired. ¡±Your Grandparents Society¡­¡± James started to say. Kiki nodded. ¡°It¡¯s slow enough most of the time. But when I have to use it on someone, it gets into them. Playing doctor - not like that, get your mind out of the gutter - or learning about their little magics or even just doing something nice for someone? It gets under their skin.¡± She stood, brushing dirt off herself with a single flourish that had the bits of planter soil neatly spread across the basin like a blanket. And she didn¡¯t even pretend that it was difficult to offer Arrush a hand up and hoist the two hundred odd pounds of ratroach off the ground and onto his feet. ¡°And then it keeps changing them.¡± ¡±What was everyone like here, before?¡± James had to know. ¡±People. They¡¯re still people. Archie probably changed the most, out of everyone. He plays at being an ass but it¡¯s just for fun now. No more yelling matches with Eilee. No more breaking things when he¡¯s drunk.¡± Arrush took his paw back from Kiki¡¯s hand. ¡°You made him better?¡± He questioned. ¡±I didn¡¯t ask. I just polished everyone down to a shine, whether they wanted it or not!¡± Kiki snapped back. But Arrush wasn¡¯t willing to just accept that, and he shook his head. Replying even though his voice shook at the prospect of talking back to this person. ¡°P-people don¡¯t yell and b-break things when they¡¯re okay.¡± He challenged her, eyes staring blankly into his own memories. ¡°I¡­ I know. That¡¯s h-how most of the people like me are when we find them. They¡­ I¡­ we hurt people. Or b-break things. Lash out. Because we¡¯re afraid, or hurt, and it takes a long time to get better.¡± All seven of his eyes focused on Kiki¡¯s face, the woman looking like she was preparing a rebuttal. ¡°If you heal someone, and they stop being cruel, then maybe being cruel was them being hurt.¡± He told her directly. ¡°And what if he liked who he used to be?¡± Kiki demanded, the compassion in the air turning into a small typhoon that was almost visible as it spun around the garden, carried on the breeze and never touching anything physically. ¡°What if I already killed him and he doesn¡¯t even know?¡± ¡±I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± Arrush shrunk back from the smaller old human woman. ¡°But I don¡¯t think it matters. It¡¯s¡­ being cruel is¡­ James?¡± He looked at the other human. Or maybe the only human, since they didn¡¯t really know what the pillars were. James sighed deeply. ¡°I think a lot of us, and especially Arrush, see cruelty like you described as a kind of attack. Because being cruel isn¡¯t the same as being bitter or sad or something; it¡¯s not an emotion, it¡¯s an action. And stopping someone from attacking you isn¡¯t violence, it¡¯s defense.¡± He paused, frowning slightly at the ground as he connected that sudden crystallization of an idea to something else in his life. He¡¯d worry about that later though. ¡°But you¡¯re not just talking about that, are you?¡± ¡±No.¡± She eyed him like he was leading her into a verbal trap. ¡°It¡¯s everyone. Everyone I talk to, everyone the magic gets on or in. And it leaks like a broken faucet if I do anything, but I have to keep going. It¡¯s¡­ not even something making me. But I have to? I can¡¯t explain it.¡± James hummed. ¡°That actually checks out with one of the things we do kind of know about pillars.¡± He said softly. ¡°You have a¡­ a name. And it¡¯s not just a moniker, it¡¯s a Name, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s something that actually matters.¡± He curled his hand into a loose fist, setting it over his mouth as he thought. ¡°Is it literal?¡± He asked. ¡°Kiki. The name. Is it all literal?¡± ¡±¡­no, not all of it.¡± She answered. ¡°It¡¯s flexible. I don¡¯t have to kill people. But I can.¡± The altered woman - not a pillar, maybe, but something else - paused. ¡°And I have.¡± ¡±Yeah, I know. I remember the Alchemist.¡± James snorted, totally without judgement. ¡°I¡¯ll ask about that later. How did this happen to you anyway?¡± He asked. He asked, because he had a suspicion. Because while the Order had a bunch of theories, the only one that they really felt fit was that pillars were just delvers. People who compressed too much magic into their bodies or souls or whatever, and underwent a kind of qualitative change into something else. It wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d ever found anything that could outright make someone into a pillar, after all. But then, of course they hadn¡¯t. If they had, when the Order had just barely scratched the surface of any of their known dungeons? There wouldn¡¯t be ten or maybe twenty pillars running around. There would be hundreds. Hell, there¡¯d be at least a few working for the Order by now, if they knew how to make them. James would be one by now. So maybe it took more magic, and also something special. Maybe it wasn¡¯t a dungeon thing at all. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe the woman who wasn¡¯t a pillar but was certainly of a kind with them, who was standing in the garden courtyard with him, could just tell him. ¡±I haven¡¯t the foggiest idea.¡± Kiki said, and James felt his hopes of having a ¡®maybe¡¯ turned into a known variable fall into pieces. ¡±Cool.¡± He couldn¡¯t hide the disappointment. If Kiki was offended, she didn¡¯t show it. If anything, she seemed just as annoyed as him. ¡°Woke up one day and felt like I was dying. Well. I was dying, in my defense. Hospice care.¡± She flicked a hand like she was banishing old cobwebs. ¡°The nurse was being a real hag around my bed, too, which was the last thing I wanted while my guts were falling out and I was hallucinating.¡± She chuckled, as if the memory of being taken off the stage of life by old age was just a fun anecdote for her. ¡°At least I thought I was hallucinating. It¡¯d been happening a little bit, and I knew I was done for, so I didn¡¯t mind. But this time was different. No one was talking, but there were a million voices giving me choices for how to do something about that little brat. Most of them mean. Real mean. Oh, I heard all of them too, all at once.¡± Kiki craned her neck back and looked up at the sky, staring at the distant specks of birds in flight overhead. ¡°And I thought to myself, Kiki, if the good lord himself came down and offered you revenge, you say no. You¡¯re a better woman than that. Kill ¡®em with kindness, just like mom and gran raised me.¡± She closed her eyes, still looking upward. ¡°And then I got up.¡± James hated to ruin the moment with technicalities. But he did anyway. ¡°Were you a delver before that? Or¡­ an adventurer? Whatever you call it?¡± ¡±I was a member of this very society back when we met in the basement of the local Pentecostal.¡± Kiki said, but that wasn¡¯t really an answer. ¡°But that¡¯s not what you mean. You mean the places, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡±Yeah. We call them dungeons.¡± James said. ¡±Mmh. They feel like it.¡± Kiki nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t even get close. Or, I could, but it¡¯d be the last thing I did, feels like. Something¡¯s mean about them. The others go in when we need to for this or that reason, but I¡¯d never even known before I turned into this. Before I could feel them.¡± She paused. ¡°Well. Feel the mean ones. You came out of one of those places, huh big boy?¡± She asked Arrush. ¡°So they can¡¯t all be bad.¡± ¡±Yes they can.¡± Arrush shivered. ¡°But¡­ mine isn¡¯t the only one. We know one that is¡­ very kind. Not like you though.¡± James nodded. ¡°You might get along with the Attic.¡± He said in contemplation. ¡°Okay. So you don¡¯t know how you got this way, you don¡¯t know how your powers work, you don¡¯t know how to die which I guess I¡¯m also curious about¡­?¡± He turned his list of data points into a search for another data point. Kiki laughed at him. ¡°I should spend more time around kids your age.¡± She said with amusement, shaking her head. ¡°The way you talk¡­ ah. Well. Dying doesn¡¯t work on me. And believe me, I¡¯ve tried. I just put myself back together, or I wake up somewhere else a few days later.¡± She frowned and eyed James, like she was still trying to decide how much to trust him. ¡°And I¡­ leak a lot, when that happens.¡± ¡±Oh. I understand that.¡± Arrush nodded, familiar with the process of constantly getting corrosive drool on things before his unexpected change to his new body. The old woman gave Arrush a stare, bringing her gaze back down to Earth at the odd words. ¡±¡­I feel like maybe we both need to spend some time swapping stories.¡± Kiki said. ¡°No kid, I leak magic. And it stops being mine. I don¡¯t have perfect control, but I¡¯ve got at least a little bit, except on that stuff. It just¡­ floats out there.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± James said, and then frowned. ¡°Ah. Okay. So whenever you fail to die, you¡¯re turning into some kind of arcane Chernobyl? Or is it not that bad.¡± ¡±Not that bad yet!¡± Kiki said cheerfully. ¡°But how would I know? I don¡¯t have any answers for you kids. I just need your help.¡± James nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± He told her, and quickly held up a hand. ¡°That was not an agreement. That was me starting every statement I make with ¡®okay¡¯ or ¡®so¡¯ and then going from there. So. I think¡­ I think I¡¯m fine saying that we will try to help you, as best we can. I think I understand why you¡¯re afraid, and I absolutely respect putting other people ahead of yourself. But hey, I can do that too! So I think we¡¯re going to try at least a few things before we go to plan M, okay?¡± ¡±Plan M is for murder.¡± Arrush supplied, happy to be in on this joke. ¡°We have many plans!¡± The ratroach added helpfully. ¡±Hmph. Really giving these old bones a mixed impression, aren¡¯t you?¡± Kiki wasn¡¯t really asking as she turned to walk back toward the door into the old school building¡¯s hall. ¡°Come on back in, I¡¯m sure your friends are worried sick by now that I ate you, if that¡¯s how you think people like me are.¡± She said. ¡°We can get you some cookies.¡± ¡±And some zucchini, judging by the threat by your door.¡± James added. Kiki perked up as they walked back toward the library and common room of the Northern Oklahoma Proud Grandparents Adventuring Society. ¡°Oh, would you? That¡¯s fantastic! I¡¯ll take back asking you to off me if you¡¯ll handle the zucchini instead!¡± It said a lot that, even though he could feel her joking through the atmosphere that she created around them, James still considered the devil¡¯s bargain that was presented to him as they returned to the others. But not too much. He had a lot to consider, and for once, ironically, it felt like there wasn¡¯t a kind option available. He¡¯d need to make some calls. Chapter 305 ¡±Hold on. It gets better. It¡¯s here at the end, we turn it all around. Keep faith. I¡¯m still with you. We all need a friend, to watch the world die out.¡± -Aviators, Half-Wolf- _____ Mars¡¯ job at the Order of Endless Rooms had put him in a number of strange positions that he wasn¡¯t quite sure how to navigate. Most of them were social issues; Mars was a mechanical engineering student, right up until his graduation and hiring here, and while he wouldn¡¯t say he prided himself on being socially inept¡­ well, it was a stereotype he¡¯d earned his place in. A lot of the non-social issues were with things exploding when they shouldn¡¯t, or not exploding when they should, and that was manageable. Actually, social stuff within Research was actually really easy to navigate because Planner was willing to perfectly schedule people around each other if there were any unresolvable problems. Which, even without his soft skills, Mars recognized wasn¡¯t really a solution, but it was convenient. Still, it was strange to sometimes take a step back and realize that he was working on literal magic. Even in the social spaces, actually. He¡¯d gotten a haircut today, for example, which wasn¡¯t normally weird, but it was the third day in a row that he¡¯d gotten a haircut so that the people practicing could have someone to work on. His hair had been regrown via magic item each time, and he hadn¡¯t had the time each day to get used to the different look in the mirror. Later, he was going to go out for a non-romantic dinner with a camraconda, and see how the nice sushi place a couple miles away would react to the big snake¡¯s love of eel. That was after his job duties though. Duties which, today, included being the person manning the contact point for Research that the rest of the Order could use to get in touch if they had questions or, more likely, concerns. Mars didn¡¯t really like this job that much, but it was fine because a lot of people just directly called or messaged Researchers they knew they needed to talk to, so he only had to field a few things over the course of his day, and the rest of his time could be spent messing around. He had been engaged in the fine art of goofing off. Which here in the Order meant listening to camraconda-made synthwave music while making testing notes on just how effective different boosts to the Utah spellbooks were, and by association, getting really good at focusing on the level one spellbook that let him offload his shadow onto someone else for about ten minutes. Unlike some of his bosses, Mars didn¡¯t suffer from any kind of problems in focusing, so he was up to attempt number twenty, slowly letting the one level that got better and better¡­ well, do that. It looked like about a 1% improvement to duration per use so far, and he felt satisfied to have been able to do the math. The goofing off was past tense, because Mars had actually had to take a call. And it was an important one, too. Lightly jogging through the halls of Research toward the broom closet Reed called an office, Mars avoided eye contact with anyone he passed and tried his best to put off the body language of someone who was in a hurry. Because he was in a hurry. Mars would readily admit he wasn¡¯t great at social stuff, but his years in college, especially in his degree program, had given him the hyper-specific ability to make people get out of his way. If he¡¯d known he¡¯d need to run today, he would have set up at one of the desks in the expanded central room, but noooo, he¡¯d needed quiet and focus for the stupid book magic. And now, because of someone¡¯s stupid idea of how big a building should be, he was jogging like he was late for class. They needed maps down here or something, he was pretty sure he could have cut through medical to save time. Unless Mercy caught him. When he got to Reed¡¯s door, there was one other person about to head in. Mars, thankfully not out of breath despite his jog thanks to being a frequent batch tester for the exercise potions, gave her a quick wave to get her attention. ¡°Paladin message.¡± He said, and the human woman stepped back to let him pass with an excited wide eyed look. She lingered by the door as Mars let himself in without knocking, eyes down on the clipboard that he¡¯d written notes on. Reed was sitting behind his desk in Mars¡¯ peripheral vision, silent and probably startled by his entrance. ¡°Sorry to interrupt boss. James needs us to set up some kind of offsite lab for testing stuff, and fast. Which¡­ actually, do we have one of those? Somewhere already, I mean.¡± Mars closed his eyes in a long blink, checking records through his skulljack at high speed on the Lair¡¯s servers. ¡°I can¡¯t find it, but I swear Nik or Momo said something about having one after the first Status Quo attack.¡± Mars shrugged as he went back to looking at his notes; he hadn¡¯t been here for that one. He knew he was kinda rambling and not letting Reed get a word in, but this seems important. ¡°James says they have ¡®someone who is like a pillar but not a pillar¡¯, which I know sounds like a problem, and¡­ actually yeah, that¡¯s it. It sounds dangerous. So, since you¡¯re in charge, and I guess never go home, James needs you to get a place for us to¡­¡± Mars looked up for the first time at the lead Researcher sitting on the other side of the cramped room filled with shelves of random dungeon acquisitions. Instead of a chubby curly haired man, Mars instead found a ratroach. One who hadn¡¯t been here for too long, either, he judged after a quick analysis of the awkward third limb placement coming out of the chest, the jagged lines of chitin, and the apparent trouble the ratroach was having sitting in the padded office chair comfortably. ¡±Oh.¡± Mars said as awkwardly as humanly possible. ¡°Uh¡­ you¡¯re not Reed.¡± ¡±No, I am.¡± The ratroach replied, suppressing a sigh as Mars slouched inward at the response. ¡°A pillar? Really?¡± ¡±Sorry, hi¡­ uh¡­ Reed? Why are you¡­¡± Mars swore he¡¯d been getting better at socialization, magic, and socialization regarding magic. But this had him so far on the back foot he was about to topple over. ¡°This?¡± Reed - apparently - held a rough claw up to his throat as he started to sigh again and needed to stop himself. ¡°We¡¯re testing the medium term effects of the body swapping table between species and not that many people volunteered to be on the human side of human-slash-unmodified-ratroach. For some reason.¡± He tried to talk evenly, but within half of his statement, there were pained corrosive tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He tried wiping them away without thinking, and quickly added to the lightly smoking burn marks on his chair. ¡°How convincing do we need to make the¡­ the lab?¡± He asked, trying to stay on track. Mars checked his notes, not that he needed to. It just felt weird to be making eye contact with someone who was crying and in pain. ¡±We don¡¯t. The pillar is cooperating, they know it won¡¯t be the Lair. We just need a place to run tests.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± Reed said, gasping out a rough breath. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll get on that. Once the painkillers kick in.¡± ¡±Are you¡­ okay?¡± Mars asked. ¡±No.¡± Reed snapped angrily. ¡°This sucks, and I¡¯m pissed for two reasons, and now I have to do this too!¡± The human, unused to being in extreme pain at all times, had been on the edge of being overwhelmed already, and was quickly tipping over the edge. Mars nodded slowly. ¡°Okay. Uh¡­ is now a bad time to tell you I skipped the line for people wanting to talk to you?¡± He jerked a thumb toward the open door where the other Researcher was peeking in curiously. ¡±¡­if it¡¯s Amanda, tell her she has to check with Davis and one other security cleared person if she wants to read the mechanic¡¯s notes, but it¡¯s fine.¡± Reed sighed at the easily solved problem, and then nearly threw up in his mouth as his throat protested the casual motion. ¡°Ugh. Ukk. Why.¡± His shout became a chittering screech without meaning to. ¡°This sucks. I¡¯m going to kill that dungeon, holy shit.¡± ¡±¡­Do¡­ do you want me to¡­ handle the offsite lab?¡± Mars asked, not sure he should be offering himself up as a sacrifice for more work. But then Reed looked at him with pleading tearful eyes, and Mars sighed in a more human and less self-destructive way. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it.¡± He said. ¡°Can I have one of the Research account debit cards?¡± Reed fished out a bank card from a case on his desk and handed it across gently, trying not to carve into it with his claws. ¡°Okay. Uh¡­ you just¡­ just sit there? I guess? Yeah, it¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll tell James you¡¯re dead or something.¡± As Mars shut the door behind him, he heard a quiet ¡°Wait no¡­¡± before he sealed Reed back in his office. Turning to the woman who had been waiting, they shared a look of raised eyebrows. ¡°That seems unhealthy?¡± She commented. ¡±It¡¯s probably worse for whatever ratroach he has to swap back with later.¡± Mars mused. ¡°So that¡¯s sorta grim. Want to help me find a derelict warehouse in the bad part of town to rent on short notice?¡± ¡±No thanks, I¡¯m gonna go read a crazy cult leader¡¯s notes on making zombies.¡± ¡±Cool. Good luck?¡± ¡±You too.¡± _____ Outside an old brick elementary school in a worn and battered part of Oklahoma, James stepped out onto the sidewalk next to where Alanna was pacing. ¡°You okay?¡± He asked. There was a strange emotional loop for Alanna, where she could tell he wasn¡¯t really concerned because of her Empathy, but also knew that was because James trusted her entirely. Without saying it, without even really thinking it. The words weren¡¯t about checking on her, they were an invitation to conversation. ¡±I¡¯m nervous about this whole thing.¡± Alanna admitted. ¡°It¡¯s a pillar.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t think she is.¡± James said quietly, taking a seat on a nearby bus stop bench that had an eight year out of date advertisement for a realtor on it. ¡°I think she¡¯s something else.¡± ¡±The first time I saw her,¡± Alanna made the snap decision to agree with James¡¯ treatment of Kiki as a person, even if she wasn¡¯t agreeing in full, ¡°she fell from the sky and ripped a guy¡¯s head off.¡± Alanna paused. ¡°She stabbed the gravity out of you! Did you forget that part?!¡± James¡¯ face lit up in a grin. ¡°Oh yeah!¡± He said, way too happy about that. ¡°That was terrifying at the time and, like, I¡¯m not happy about it, but also I got to be so fucking cool that day. I got thrown through a window and got to make a witty one liner that was only amusing to myself.¡± ¡±Fuck, you¡¯re right, she basically gift wrapped your ultimate fantasy for you didn¡¯t she?¡± Alanna blew a gust of air out of puffed up cheeks, forced to admit that this really was everything James wanted in life. ¡°Are you sure you know what you¡¯re doing?¡± She wasn¡¯t sure she wanted to hear James¡¯ answer. He had that face like he was going to be flippant about certain doom again. But Alanna wasn¡¯t the only one who could read her partner, and James met her eyes with his own as he gingerly leaned back on the old wooden bench. ¡°I have no idea.¡± He said quietly. ¡°This could be a trap, or just a disaster. I¡¯m pretty sure she can still hear us. Everyone in that building could probably make it as a knight of the Order, and they all love her, and she hasn¡¯t told them what she actually asked us for. And even if it does go okay¡­ what does that even look like?¡± James closed his eye and tipped his chin down as he exhaled forcefully. ¡°We could fuck everything up so badly, just going off what she¡¯s told us, and even Kiki doesn¡¯t know what her actual powers are. There are so many versions of this going wrong.¡± ¡±Are you doing the thing?¡± Alanna asked him, crossing her arms but unable to actually manage a stern look. ¡±What thing?¡± ¡±The thing where you¡¯re listing off terrible things and then pausing and then contrasting them with the thing you¡¯re doing anyway.¡± Alanna accused him. James opened his eye and leaned forward, lips pursed. ¡°I do that often enough that you have a thing tone for it?¡± He asked, alarmed. ¡±Buddy you do that once a week.¡± Alanna snickered. Well, no point denying it now. ¡°Yes,¡± James said, ¡°I am apparently doing the thing.¡± He shifted over as Alanna sat down next to him, leaning his head on her shoulder so he could be closer to one of the people he loved. ¡°We help people.¡± He said. ¡±That we do.¡± Alanna agreed. ¡°You know, a billion years ago¡­¡± ¡±Oh now who¡¯s doing the thing?¡± James laughed. ¡±Shaddup you. I¡¯m just saying, when this started, my idea of helping people was, you know, getting good at civics and running for mayor.¡± Alanna wrapped her arm around James, settling her hand on his head and messing up his already disheveled hair. ¡°Now we¡¯re talking about diverting half our research division to helping some kind of demigod.¡± James nodded, enjoying watching the trees across the street sway in the wind from his sideways perspective. ¡°Well hey, at least we know that the menacing demigods used to be human. If we trust her, anyway. But I want to.¡± He held his own hand up to cover Alanna¡¯s mouth before she could start talking. ¡°Yeah yeah, of course I want to. But also half of Research needs something useful to do anyway.¡± ¡±Seriously?¡± Alanna argued around the cap on her words, before twisting her head to escape. ¡°We could be doing something amazing! Those nerds should be curing cancer, not¡­ oh shut up.¡± She laughed in time with James turning an incredulous eye up on her. ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking, okay? But seriously, there¡¯s gotta be some important projects getting interrupted, right?¡± James couldn¡¯t let this slander of Research stand. ¡°Half of them spend their time fucking around all day, and I mean that lovingly. Messing with different attempts to combine magic, the vast majority of which just don¡¯t work. Making happy rats. Building an asphalt mech that was obsolete almost as soon as it was done. Designing a space elevator that can¡¯t leave the ionosphere. You know, normal stuff that they probably should take a break on.¡± ¡±The asphalt mecha was you though.¡± James grinned. ¡°Yeah. Yeah it was, wasn¡¯t it? God that thing is so dumb. Anyway that doesn¡¯t undermine my point because I was fucking around at the time.¡± Alanna shifted her body in a wave that pushed James upright so that she could stand and stretch. ¡±What is your point?¡± ¡±Research can have a pillar. As a treat.¡± James told her. ¡±This is gonna go so wrong.¡± Alanna restated. James shook his head. ¡°Alanna, on our chat server, research is already taking bets on which of them gets accidentally vaporized testing stuff with Kiki. It¡¯s already gone wrong. But maybe it can go wrong in a way that¡¯s funny and nonlethal.¡± ¡±¡­did we create a problem? James you¡¯d tell me if we accidentally made a basement full of mad scientists, right?¡± Cocking his head at her, James answered slowly. ¡±I did tell you. I tell you every time we have lunch or hang out or go to the baths or get in bed. I tell you constantly that Research is basically two steps away from building a giant laser and threatening to sink Australia.¡± ¡°I assumed you were joking!¡± Alanna exclaimed, following after James as he stood and started walking back toward the Northern Oklahoma Proud Grandparents Adventuring Society. ¡±Stop assuming that!¡± _____ Momo did not want to be in this part of the basement. The problem, she decided, with dating someone who actually cared about you - even if both of you were too fucking dysfunctional to say it out loud - was that they actually cared about you. El cared about her. That was weird. And bluntly, Momo didn¡¯t know how to handle it. ¡±You¡¯re gonna give yourself more heartburn than a ratroach.¡± El had told her. ¡°Stop fucking having anxiety, and just go talk to them!¡± ¡±Talking solves most problems.¡± Speaky had added, the growing infomorph lounging on their bed amidst a pile of stuffed animals that neither girl would admit to having bought. Momo had been largely unconvinced, and unbullied, until El had deployed the atomic weapon of their relationship and guilted her into it. ¡°Look, you dumbass. If you go down there, you get to do two things. Intimidate the shit out of a bunch of programmers, which sounds fun, and also, if you see anything that reminds you of¡­ of what went wrong before? You can tell them to knock it off. And it¡¯ll work. Because of the intimidation.¡± Then they¡¯d kicked her out of the room. Now, Momo was of the opinion that she was one of the least intimidating people in the Order. Despite being kinda chunky, she was outmassed by basically every other knight just because they were all taller than her. She was terminally lazy to the point that she¡¯d engineered a situation where she could get away with wearing patterned bathrobes everywhere around the Lair, her most powerful magic was punching someone from slightly farther away than normal, and basically every horror story people told about her was exaggerated to the point of nonsense. She didn¡¯t actually purposefully damage the parts of her brain that made red totems uncomfortable just so she could use them better. She didn¡¯t feed the floating pencils that she had following her a mix of different species blood to train them. And she sure as hell didn¡¯t spend all of her time in seclusion because she was cultivating. That last one was a lot stupider of a rumor before they had the books from Pylon. Momo caught herself using Alanna¡¯s name for the parking structure dungeon as she looped through the residential basement; walking nowhere and hoping she¡¯d get tired before she got to where she had promised to go. Two things annoyed her; first, that Alanna had beaten her to a cool dungeon name and that the name was actually kinda cool, to the point that Momo wanted to just stick with it. But also, that someone had probably used a green orb down here that made navigation inside the building easier, and she kept walking past a stairwell to Research when she was sure she shouldn¡¯t be near one. She was being moved toward her destination even though she didn¡¯t want to go. Or at least, that¡¯s what she was telling herself. But maybe El was right - words Momo was terrified of for their own reason. Maybe she did need to slam into this problem head on. Maybe it would make her feel better to see it for herself. The room she didn¡¯t want to get to was probably only about halfway up the rankings for weirdest labs in the Research basement. Certainly not weirder than the majority of the alchemy stuff, but absolutely outclassing the boring ones that were just safety gear for poking unknown pencils from the Office or whatever. Mostly it was computer stuff. But far from being a cobbled together mess like Momo had once had in her room, this was a planned and structured mess. They even had zip ties for cable management. On top of that, the room had a lot of dedicated hardware for different sensory and communication purposes. The rest of the stuff was totems. Momo had made a lot of them herself, and then handed them off and never come down to see them in use. They were upgrades on her earlier designs; compact in both their own size, and their range of effect. Essentially they were tightly controlled to just whoever was holding them. Or who you stuck them on top of, if that was how things were going. She was proud of the work, but she saw others here too that she hadn¡¯t designed. Iterations on her own discoveries that Momo kind of understood at a glance even though she wasn¡¯t quite sure how. ¡°Hey, do you need¡­ oh, Momo. Hi.¡± A chubby man poked his head up from underneath one of the tables, breathing heavily as he worked on shifting things around. He wasn¡¯t the only person in the room, there were a few others, and while they¡¯d mostly ignored the door as they kept working at the keyboards and monitors, they all looked up when the man said her name. ¡°We didn¡¯t really expect to see you down here!¡± ¡±Yeah, hi¡­ uh¡­?¡± Momo had no idea who this was. ¡±Oh! Pei. We haven¡¯t met.¡± He brushed flat locks of hair off his sweaty forehead as he stood up. ¡°We just all know about you! For the totems, and of course, the first attempt.¡± The man gave her an admiring smile. And Momo felt her stomach drop. Her expression clearly showed some of her angry discomfort, because one of the others in the room gave a tentative and deeply uncomfortable ¡°Uh¡­ Pei¡­?¡± ¡±Oh. Oh! Right, I¡¯m¡­ sorry?¡± The man didn¡¯t seem to know how to apologize. ¡°So what do you need from us today?¡± He asked cheerfully. Momo sighed, and made the conscious decision to not take this personally. She was a little annoyed that she and El were forcing each other to go to therapy right now, because in the moment, taking this personally sounded really good, but it would probably annoy the shit out of Connie during their next session, so Momo held back. ¡°I guess¡­ I guess I¡¯m just here to see how things are going.¡± She said. ¡°And hear about the project. If that¡¯s okay?¡± ¡°Oh, of course, of course!¡± Pei beamed at her as he moved around to the other side of the row of tables and took a chair, wheeling the seat out into an open area. The desks were arranged in a kind of semicircle facing outward, but the whole wall behind them was covered in tiled monitors, looking down on everyone with their digital glow. ¡°What would you like to know?¡± ¡±¡­how¡¯s it going?¡± Momo thought her small voice sounded stupid, but the man didn¡¯t even seem to notice it. Instead he nodded eagerly. ¡°Well, well. We¡¯re trying to replicate your original results but with a deliberate foundation.¡± He seemed utterly blind to the fact that this was a sore spot for Momo, and in a way, she almost appreciated it. ¡°The initial artificial intelligence was, as you well know, an emergent property of a number of dedicated emerald-grown programs. So we¡¯ve begun there, and are working to supplement that with mundane hard- and software.¡± ¡±Yeah, I see the totems, too.¡± Momo nodded at the racks. The technical talk was easy enough to handle. ¡°That still works?¡± ¡±Of course! Magic doesn¡¯t change, as far as we know! We just find new ways to solve problems.¡± Pei rubbed at his thin patch of facial hair that probably wasn¡¯t an intentional mustache. ¡°The red totems are especially effective at giving the meta-program information that can¡¯t be input otherwise. It saves on bandwidth, for one thing. But also, a computer can parse much broader totem data streams better than a biomorph brain can.¡± Momo almost lost him at ¡®biomorph¡¯, but figured it out quick enough. ¡°Yeah, a lot of it¡­ originally¡­ was just using Anesh¡¯s math to sort through global weather patterns or whatever.¡± ¡±We still have that totem!¡± Pei said proudly, which made Momo feel something that she didn¡¯t have a name for but sure wasn¡¯t happy with. ¡°The only issue of course is that there is something that enables a process to pick up on a red totem broadcast, which we cannot replicate. So of course we are stuck using the emerald programs, for now, until we can identify what part of their absolute mess of machine code is accomplishing this.¡± One of the programmers in the room, wanting to participate, called over an addition. ¡°A lot of us think that the whole reason the AI became aware in the first place was that the code for picking up the totems required them to be sentient!¡± ¡±Yes, that.¡± Pei nodded again. ¡°Which means that the personhood of the first AI-¡° ¡±Nameless.¡± Momo heard herself say, and then shook her head to banish the fog from her thoughts. ¡°I mean, that¡¯s what they were. Nameless. And then I kinda made it their name, and we argued about irony for a day or two.¡± The people in the room were silently listening in, like she was explaining deep lore and not just something that anyone in the Order could know if they looked it up. ¡±Yes, yes, Nameless.¡± Pei seemed happy to agree. ¡°Well, it¡¯s likely their personhood came from that bridge, growing out of the need of the programs for sentience to receive data. Now I¡¯m sure you know, but simply asking an emerald to grow a digital intelligence does not work at all, so¡­¡± Momo held up a hand. ¡°Wait. Stop.¡± She almost laughed. ¡°You just asked for an AI and they said no? That¡¯s hilarious.¡± ¡±Well we asked for several things. The project is ongoing, but someone before your own project had asked for an intelligent assistant program, and those emeralds never ripened, instead returning errors no matter what stage they were at.¡± Pei¡¯s eyes moved like he was checking skulljack information. ¡°They were all filed under a research project by someone named Virgil?¡± ¡±Ah.¡± Momo had no idea. Virgil would have loved this shit, actually. Maybe she could try to be enthusiastic on his behalf. She¡¯d have to be a little more of a smug dick to complete the persona though. ¡°So what¡¯s the whole¡­ plan here, I guess?¡± Pei waved around at the controlled chaos that was the hardware in the room. ¡°Simple! We have roughly two hundred separate grown programs taking in data from different totems. And then one more mundane governance program that takes that information to collate and interpret it. After that¡­ well, there are various different functions that will allow for communication, observation, and manipulation of the outside world.¡± Pei gestured at the cameras and drones around the lab. ¡°If an AI does germinate, it won¡¯t need to figure out how to speak on its own this time!¡± ¡±Christ, Pei¡­¡± Momo heard someone mutter from the back of the room, and glanced over to see a lanky man facepalming. The fact that someone else recognized that this was maybe a little disturbing made her grin. ¡°So,¡± Momo started to talk, and then realized the one thing she wanted to know was a bit morbid, ¡°how¡­ how do you plan to keep this one alive?¡± ¡±If it becomes alive, you mean?¡± Pei asked. ¡°Well, we obviously don¡¯t have enough data points to create a reasonable psychological model for this ¡®species¡¯, if that term is even relevant-¡° ¡±It¡¯s not!¡± Someone called over. ¡±-and so we are left to guessing. Our first goal of course is to avoid replicating your mistakes, but-¡° ¡±For fuck¡¯s sake Pei¡­¡± the lanky man now had both hands covering his face and a vicarious embarrassed blush covering his face in a hot red. ¡°Come on man, you can¡¯t¡­ come on!¡± Momo just folded her arms, a motion that seemed to get more attention than anything else, and put a few people on edge. Wait, were people intimidated by her? That would be hilarious in this specific case. ¡°You¡¯re phrasing it like a jerk, but I am curious. How are you gonna avoid my one big fuckup?¡± ¡°Am I?¡± Pei rotated in his chair slightly, but when he spoke the idea of being a jerk seemed almost academic to him. ¡°Well our guess is that the Nameless AI was, accidentally, a paperclipper. It was dedicated to a single purpose so powerfully that it excluded its own basic needs. So we¡¯ve included several failsafes to prevent that kind of self-destruction. Essentially the machine version of the human instinct to keep oneself fed and rested.¡± ¡±If they work.¡± Momo pointed out. ¡±Correct, if they work.¡± Pei agreed readily. ¡°In addition to that, well¡­ in working with the ethics group, we believe we have created the conditions for a willingly stable AI.¡± Momo paused with her mouth open, cutting off her remark as she thought about that. She closed her mouth, looked down at the ground, and then looked back up slowly. ¡°Willingly?¡± Did her voice always sound that small?Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡±Yes, yes. The obvious answer to a digital life that doesn¡¯t care about it¡¯s stability is to give it a reason to care. Now, we could simply emulate that, but that¡¯s¡­ mmh. No, no. Even I find that distasteful. So instead we have included in the base code of the central program, and in the available hardware connections, the potential for the AI to choose from multiple different directives.¡± He seemed very proud of himself for this. ¡°By making it a choice, we make the act of choosing a part of the AI¡¯s existence, and thus keep it in a positive feedback loop of motivation.¡± ¡±¡­are you sure there are not AI psychologists?¡± Momo asked. ¡°Also wait, hang the fuck on! What if it would have wanted to choose something you didn¡¯t account for?! Or something destructive!¡± The thin man in the back wheeled his chair around to add himself more directly to the conversation. ¡±Uh¡­ I made sure there were¡­ I guess you could call them ¡®bad choices¡¯ included. Also doing nothing is an option too, so there¡¯s nothing forced. The only thing that the code requires is that a choice be made, and that has to happen, because we don¡¯t think an AI will form out of these conditions unless there is an objective to be accomplished. Sorry? Sorry.¡± ¡±Hey, don¡¯t apologize to me, that¡¯s way more thought than I put into it.¡± Momo looked over at the rows of totems on their racks, and the expansive hardware framework. ¡°You guys seem like you care about this a lot.¡± She muttered. ¡±Of course!¡± Pei laughed cheerily. ¡°The cutting edge of the boundary between organic and machine life! We might redefine what a person even is in our lifetimes! And the potential for intelligences that could outstrip human minds by an order of magnitude! Who wouldn¡¯t be excited!¡± He rubbed his hands together, staring into the future and also at the wall behind Momo. ¡°The singularity may be within our reach, here in this room.¡± He said reverently. ¡±Ooooookay.¡± Momo said slowly, looking at the other man. He just shrugged. ¡°I just think it¡¯s cool. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯d be a good dad to a robot, too? I dunno, we¡¯re all doing our best here. Even Pei. Who is¡­ this.¡± He motioned at the chubby programmer awkwardly. Momo stared at him. And then she laughed, something breaking loose in her emotions to float away, leaving her feeling lighter as it left. ¡°Would you believe that¡¯s more reassuring?¡± She asked. ¡±Absolutely!¡± He told her with a grin. She let them give her a small tour of the room before leaving, stepping out into the hallway with a kind of exhaustion that she wasn¡¯t familiar with feeling. As Momo leaned her back against the closed door, she took a deep breath, and then opened her eyes to see Speaker¡¯s tiny twenty meter long fish form floating around her. ¡°Hey.¡± Momo said. ¡±I¡¯m sorry.¡± Speaky said quietly, leviathan body turning to stare at the floor with his ring of eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize they would be like that. I just wanted to-¡° ¡±You just wanted to help.¡± Momo smiled at her girlfriend¡¯s infomorph kid, reaching an arm up through the pale light of the spatially twisted manifestation to settle it around Speaky¡¯s body in a weird hug. ¡°You know what? I feel kinda better.¡± ¡±Really?!¡± Speaky was both shocked and excited. Momo exhaled a laugh. ¡°Yeah. They seem like dumbasses, but they¡¯re all excited, and they¡¯re doing this on purpose. They¡¯re not¡­ they might screw up. But if they do, it won¡¯t be the same way I did. And if their kid lives longer because of what we learned from Nameless, then¡­ I dunno. I don¡¯t fucking know. Maybe there¡¯s an AI afterlife, and Nameless can simulate being proud or something there.¡± Momo chewed on her lip piercing, trying to focus on a physical sensation that wasn¡¯t ¡¯being about to cry¡¯. ¡±¡­Are you okay?¡± Speaker squeaked out the question. ¡±I will be.¡± Momo said, cracking as many joints as she could as she pushed off the door. ¡°Come on. You helped, so you get a treat. Want some ice cream?¡± Speaker tried to keep themself as a calm and collected individual, and failed almost instantly at the offer. ¡±Yes!¡± They declared, spinning their fish form around Momo before settling into her hair like it was a reef. ¡°Onward!¡± And so onward they went. _____ Camille stalked after a man who had participated in Townton¡¯s calamity. She knew Kirk¡¯s name, obviously. But until she was sure that whatever he was doing wasn¡¯t some kind of betrayal, she found it easier to think of him in the abstract. Like she¡¯d been originally trained; she was acting to gather intelligence on a target, and that was all. Following after him around destroyed buildings, keeping to shadows and out of line of sight, it was almost routine. Boring as well. If Camille had a flair for the dramatic, she could have leapt from what rooftops remained, but that was a stupid way to get spotted almost instantly. Also despite her thin frame she did weigh about five hundred pounds counting the wings, so landings would make a thud. Boring wasn¡¯t bad though. She got to hone some of the ability that had been sitting idle in the last month with the Order, and she also got to get away from the part of the city that was beginning to feel stifling. Or¡­ no, that was the wrong word. It wasn¡¯t choking her, it didn¡¯t hold her back. But it felt much like when she had first come to the Lair, just in a different style. One of her sisters was waking up for a few hours each day now - or at least, admitting to it, she was actually awake all the time - and the other captive Camille seemed to be healing too. Both of them were awkward thorns in her thoughts. Nate was around, grumbling about reports from different places, stressing himself into an ulcer about not doing enough as he ¡®kept an eye on things¡¯. The chanters and their newly hatched children were a constant source of broadcast excitement, and they liked Cam for some reason. A lot of people liked her for some reason; Indira had invited her to a ¡®girls night¡¯, Imu and Iru sought her out every time she walked a patrol path and kept bringing new human children friends with them, TQ seemed to think she was approachable for casual conversation, and there were a dozen other small interactions with people who recognized her and smiled when she approached. So Camille the Azure felt¡­ well, a lot of things. Annoyed, guilty, thrilled, amused, alive, and so so so very confused. Possibly as a result of all the other emotions. Which meant it was ultimately quite relaxing to slip into a professional state of mind and put herself to work tracking a potential dissident. The game of cat and mouse became a puzzle for her as she followed her target through the destroyed streets. Outside of the core of Townton, where the Order of Endless Rooms was restoring things in their image, it was all too easy to see just how bad of an attack this city had suffered. Cars pierced by the street itself, forms of shattered glass and warped metal, were everywhere. Buildings had partially collapsed from where the ground had shifted and lances of asphalt had broken support beams, but more than that, rot and fire and vegetation turned what would otherwise be mostly intact structures into ruins. Packs of necroads were common. There were thousands of them, and while the population would have been sparse in a human city, these creatures didn¡¯t spend time inside. Some of them fled if they spotted either of the two in their territory, others watched or even waved slowly. A few pursued Kirk briefly, but he outsped them, and none dared approach Cam. It was this mess of terrain that Cam saw as a series of tactical items. Shadows and cover, certain places that would slow her down, or allow her to gain ground when Kirk had to slow his motorcycle and take a different street. He had driven this route before, clearly, but she was unfamiliar with it except from maps. But even on foot, she kept up and followed him largely based on tracking the sound of his engine. Her target had been leaving Townton on a regular basis for some time now. At least as long as she¡¯d been here. He told no one where he was going, and every time he slipped out, he did so through gaps in the restoration area¡¯s security. In a way, Camille appreciated it, because their security was important. Necroads were welcome in the restored Townton if they behaved, and seeing them wander the streets in peaceful confusion was a common sight, but Route Horizon had spent enough time as a breached dungeon that there were other things out there. And having a good perimeter was important. Which meant this specific person¡¯s penetration testing was also important. If only he¡¯d told anyone about it. Camille was constantly in awe - though she would never use that term - of the simple fact that no one in the Order ever sold them out. Maybe skulljacks had already spread farther than anyone knew, there was no way to really track that devil. But it would have been quite easy to sell the location of a dungeon entrance to a government or wealthy monster. It would have taken almost no effort to extract value from information on the Order¡¯s activities. And that was even putting aside ideological reasons for internal strife. But no, none of that ever manifested. James¡¯ simple and naive insistence on doing everything in their power to remove the obstacles to virtue worked, and it made Camille both aggravated and depressed in equal measure. So seeing Kirk possibly going to a rendezvous with an outside agent was refreshing. This was the world working as she knew it did, and while she welcomed having something to do, she also had a grim appreciation that everything she knew wasn¡¯t wrong. Townton had never been an especially large city when it was functional. There were a lot of low quality apartments and the commercial areas of the city were sort of packed around the houses. It had been growing though, as cities do, so the ¡®outskirts¡¯ weren¡¯t just a boundary line and then wilderness. Instead, there were fewer and fewer buildings. More patches of grass and trees, more empty lots. Old warehouses that looked wholly intact, homes that had never finished construction and so appeared as ruins even if they were technically less damaged than anything else. It was into this area that her target drove, speeding up as the straightaway of the main road lost a lot of its scattered wreckage and necroad inhabitants. Cam followed more directly, flinging herself through the trees and empty lots on the side as she maneuvered after him, losing ground even as she reached fifty miles an hour in some spots. She caught up again as the biker wound up a hilly switchback, the elevation outside of town making it a place where no one had bothered to develop yet except for a few now-derelict mansions. There was a connection to a highway out this way, but like the other two points of entry into Townton, the on-ramp had been thoroughly demolished and passage by vehicle would be a challenge. Though maybe a motorcycle would manage it. Instead, she almost exposed herself as she followed by scaling the outside of the hill, because her target had stopped. Here. Not somewhere outside the memetic effect that had erased Townton from notice, not near the highway. But here. On a part of the road that cut its path up the hill, where an overlook allowed for a view of Townton below, her target had parked his bike and was in the process of dismounting. The road he¡¯d traveled here had a number of destroyed cars that he¡¯d had to slow to pass, but this rest area was cleared of any debris. In fact, Cam noted, it was carefully cleared of any debris. There were signs that the mechanic¡¯s attack had struck here, and she could see several spots where asphalt was pooled back into shape by the Order¡¯s favorite spell, but the wreckage and spilled oil and gasoline was nowhere to be found. Instead there was some kind of obelisk. Camille wished she had a better word for it than that. She was not going to call the hexagonal spike of granite a pillar, not now. At this point in her life she felt she could allow herself some small emotional attachment like that. But it still didn¡¯t change the fact that there was an obelisk here, watching over the town both ruined and restored below, and that Kirk was approaching it. Watching unmoving from her concealed position, Cam saw him pull a tablet computer and a bundle of rags from his satchel, and then set his hand on the granite that rose over his head as he referenced something on the screen. A second later, he managed to get a tiny quirk of a raised eyebrow from her as a small part of the obelisk liquified, thin lines melting out of it before he wiped the quickly hardening cold stone away from the space and tossed the shop rag away behind him. Then he repeated the process. A few times, actually. Cam watched until eventually Kirk coughed into his hand and checked his palm in the way that she was familiar with seeing when people overused blue orbs. Going back to his bike to grab a water bottle, the man sat himself on the small wall and faced toward the road as he drank and caught his breath. He only paused briefly as Camille walked out of the trees to his right and approached the obelisk, her wings shifting the branches enough to announce her presence as she stopped putting in the effort to keep her extra limbs from hitting anything and everything around her. Holding himself frozen with the water bottle up to his mouth as she strode into view like she was supposed to be here. Cam didn¡¯t really feel that way, but she knew what her blank expression made her seem like, so she stayed silent and let Kirk assume whatever he wanted as she walked up to his project, and looked up at the fifteen foot tall stone. There were words on it. No, not words. Letters, yes, but they were more specific. From the top down to about eight feet up, the obelisk was covered in names. Camille looked over at the man sitting and watching her, wondering if he would explain without her having to start an awkward conversation. But he didn¡¯t say anything, instead just silently taking a cigarette out of a packet and lighting it with a shaking of his hands that was either nerves or lingering exhaustion from the blue orb use. ¡±What is this?¡± She asked eventually. ¡±A reminder.¡± Kirk said, holding the lit cigarette between a pair of fingers but not raising it to his lips. He stood, and slowly approached her. ¡°Of everyone who used to live here.¡± Camille wasn¡¯t sure she understood. But when she looked up at the regimented list of human names again, she was also afraid that she did. ¡°A monument.¡± She said, turning back to Kirk as he moved up next to her, a thin line of acrid smoke filling the air around them. ¡°For the dead?¡± ¡±Everyone I got killed. That we know of, anyway.¡± Kirk didn¡¯t nod; actually he seemed to be trying to keep himself as still as possible. Either that or Cam was misreading it and he was just tense to the point of having an anxiety attack that he wasn¡¯t acknowledging. ¡°It¡¯s hard to know if the list is complete.¡± Camille ran through some quick math. In the time she¡¯d watched him before he¡¯d exhausted himself, Kirk had completed what seemed to be two new names. Given the thousands that died in Townton, and the fact that he wasn¡¯t coming out here every night, that meant that he would have been at this for some time already. But also, the blue orb that gave Melt Stone as an ability for absorbing it wasn¡¯t something the Order had a huge number of copies of. Everyone got a stipend of points to spend on whatever magic was available, but costs fluctuated, and she doubted Kirk had stockpiled a huge number of them. Which meant he wasn¡¯t using his points on skills or spells. Just on this. And he would be doing it for a while yet, at this rate. She didn¡¯t know what to say to someone like this. Cam didn¡¯t have a lot of experience with grief and guilt. She knew how to use them to tip people into being informants, or push them into rash attacks, but not how to talk like James did. She didn¡¯t know the words to comfort someone. Which was why as soon as she felt the pressure build to the point that she had to say something, she knew she might have erred. ¡°You¡¯ll be doing this for a decade.¡± Camille commented, knowing already that it sounded stupid. ¡°Why?¡± ¡±I¡­ don¡¯t think it¡¯s up to me if I¡¯m okay with that or not.¡± Kirk half-answered, looking down at his cigarette and sighing. ¡°I did this. It¡¯s not all my fault, but I could have done better. And¡­ and I don¡¯t know. Maybe if there¡¯s an afterlife or something, some part of them will feel better watching the place come back from up here. Or maybe that¡¯s stupid. I doubt I¡¯d appreciate it. But I¡¯m an asshole, so what do I know.¡± ¡±Assholes often know quite a lot.¡± Camille said, setting her fingertips on the granite. ¡°And statistically, you¡¯ve got more than a few up here already. But I understand. I understand wanting to¡­ atone, in some way.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not atonement.¡± Kirk laughed bitterly. ¡°That¡¯d mean that it¡¯d make up for anything.¡± Cam shook her head. ¡°No. It never really will. It¡¯s not a spreadsheet with good on one side and bad on the other, is it? But wanting to atone is what brings you here. Even if you know you can¡¯t. And I understand that.¡± Kirk flicked his cigarette onto the ground and stomped on it, never having taking a pull from the lit stick. ¡°You know I used to smoke, and I hated it. Then I got the stupid Climb spell that took away the addiction, and now I want to smoke sometimes, but it smells like shit and I feel like I lost something, even if I can¡¯t honestly say I mind that much.¡± His words felt disconnected to Cam, but he took a deep breath and moved away from the monument he was building to look out over Townton again. ¡°What brought you here?¡± He asked her. ¡±Oh. The next time you breach perimeter security, would you mind telling me? It would simplify this process.¡± Cam asked, glad to be back in safe conversation territory. The stare Kirk gave her made her think that maybe she¡¯d said something foolish. But then a sardonic smile took over his face and he shook his head before staring back out over the contrasting states of the the city. ¡°Yeah, I can do that.¡± He said. ¡°And¡­ thanks.¡± ¡±For what?¡± ¡±It¡¯s hard to explain. I bet you¡¯ll know one day though.¡± _____ Amelia - or Red as she still referred to herself sometimes, even though that era of her life was over - was busy scowling at someone. The thing she was scowling at wasn¡¯t actually human, but that didn¡¯t stop Amelia from feeling as if she should be grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking until something rattled loose in whatever passed for a brain in that body. Specifically, she was scowling at Bea, the inhabitor having just said the stupidest thing possible to the experienced alchemist. ¡°You¡­ you just¡­¡± Amelia was so angry she was struggling to find the words. ¡°I need to sit down. This is too idiotic, even for this place. No.¡± She waved a hand to banish the incompetent assistant. ¡°Get out.¡± ¡±It¡¯s the logical choice.¡± Bea said, not getting out. The clean room that their potions were brewed in and recipes were refined within seemed like a poor choice of place to have this conversation, but if Amelia wasn¡¯t going to leave, neither was she. ¡°Lab rats are useful to an extent, but I dislike watching living things die, and I am more durable. I can also give feedback-¡° ¡±Yes well isn¡¯t that nice for you!¡± Amelia snapped at her. ¡°I¡¯m sure that the next thing we brew that kills someone will get excellent feedback from you!¡± She was yelling. She knew she was yelling, and the others who were working here today were staring at her. ¡°What?!¡± She demanded of the room. ¡±They are staring because you are angry.¡± Bea informed her, the inhabitor understanding full well what emotions were at play, and simply choosing not to feel any of them. But one emotion crept into her active sensorium that she didn¡¯t actually want, and for some reason, couldn¡¯t shut down. Worry, perhaps? ¡°I don¡¯t understand. This works. This allows us to identify new potions faster, and safer. I thought¡­ I thought you would be happy.¡± Bea didn¡¯t often experience regret. That wasn¡¯t really a part of how she lived; everything she did was somewhat deliberate, and while she made practical mistakes all the time, she didn¡¯t actually socialize enough to make any personal mistakes that were irreparable. Now, though, she suddenly realized that she might have done something that she couldn¡¯t take back, and that it might hurt the comfortable working relationship she had been building with the older alchemist. Amelia just stared at her, and suddenly, a lot of the anger drained out of her expression. Though the tension in the room was thick enough to cut, it stopped getting worse when Amelia sighed and set down the beaker she¡¯d been about to throw. ¡±You idiot child.¡± She said, all the head drained out of her tone, even as she kept her focus sharp enough to maintain the proper timing on the commercial kitchen mixer they were using to prepare a batch of ghost juice. ¡°You¡¯re not invincible. There¡¯s some things you can¡¯t heal from.¡± ¡±I am aware. That is why early tests are important.¡± Bea agreed, glad that the conversation was back in the realm of practicality. ¡°But once a potion has failed to kill rodent test subjects, it is only reasonable that someone like myself, who can heal from most things, tries it. The sooner potions are identified, the sooner they might be put to work improving lives.¡± Amelia went back to scowling. ¡°And what if you take something that just kills you?! What if whatever brainwashed all those rats we¡¯re keeping around carves out your soul and turns you into a robot?! What then?!¡± ¡±That seems unlikely. Potion effects do not appear to replicate without similar ingredient pairings, you know that.¡± Bea factually stated. The reassurance did the opposite of reassuring Amelia. Instead, the woman¡¯s eyes hardened, and she silently spun on her heel to storm out of the clean room. She didn¡¯t bother to strip off the white outer covering of the chemical suit, just throwing her filter mask to the bench on the side of the exit as she kept going. And standing back in the production room, Bea felt the sharpest spike of anything since she¡¯d been created. The moment of fear and pain so raw and harsh that it cut across whatever dulled an inhabitor¡¯s natural emotional state. It was so sudden that she almost retreated into her mask, instinctively reaching for the cold dead memories of the last owner of this body to shield her before recoiling in disgust from that as well. In a short moment, Bea found herself both frozen, and trembling. She couldn¡¯t move, but felt like she was about to collapse. Breathing wasn¡¯t a high priority for an inhabitor, but it suddenly became one when she couldn¡¯t do it. The edges of her vision became a field of black spots, the constant mental tracking she did of the other humans and camracondas in the room fading into static even as one of them said something concerned to her. The moment cut out abruptly, and without knowing what she was doing or why, Bea found herself following Amelia out of the clean room, Outline-Of-Green rapidly sliding across the floor behind her to check on the potion batch in production. ¡±Wait!¡± She called as she cycled through the exit, her limbs not reacting properly as she stumbled after Amelia. Bea didn¡¯t know how long she¡¯d been standing there. The human might be long gone, so she would have to search- Amelia wasn¡¯t gone. Instead she was sitting slumped forward, head in her hands, in one of the chairs in the central room of the alchemy department. The hub in the middle of their sap growing, potion storage, production, and testing rooms was filled with tables, chairs, whiteboards, and one vending machine. And currently, among a few other people, Amelia. Bea stumbled as she drew up short, nearly falling forward as she approached the chair the woman had taken. ¡°I apologize.¡± She said rapidly as she tried and failed to pull out the chair next to Amelia, her hands failing to work properly. ¡±You don¡¯t even know why you¡¯re apologizing.¡± The human said with dull annoyance. ¡±I don¡¯t. But I know I need to apologize.¡± Bea told her. ¡°What did I do wrong. Please.¡± Amelia looked up suddenly at the last word, and at the tremor in Bea¡¯s voice, like she was suddenly realizing something was wrong with the inhabitor. Bea was standing next to the smooth white surface of the table she was at, almost idly trying to grab the chair and not managing it. Her whole body was shaking slightly, not like how a human would experience it but in a way that was more of a mechanical failure of the nervous system. ¡°You¡¯re crying.¡± Amelia said with sudden concern, grunting in exertion as she used a foot to push the chair out and let Bea sit. The inhabitor did so, nearly collapsing into the seat. ¡°No. Inhabitors don¡¯t do that.¡± She said. ¡±Uh huh.¡± Amelia looked at her with obvious disbelief. For long enough that Bea raised a twitching hand, stripping off the outer glove and touching under her eyes with bare fingers to find her cheeks were wet somehow. ¡°Suppose it¡¯d be too easy to blame this on one of the things you drank.¡± The alchemist said with a sigh. Bea kept staring at her hand. ¡°No.¡± She said plainly. ¡°I have a list of the known effects, but none of them are this. Unless it was very delayed.¡± Amelia gave her a look that Bea couldn¡¯t parse. It wasn¡¯t angry though. ¡±Do you want to know what you¡¯re apologizing for?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡±You¡­¡± Amelia looked away. At anything except the inhabitor. ¡°You¡¯re partly my fault, you know that? I helped refine the potion that made you.¡± ¡±I am aware. That is how I knew that you would know the effects.¡± Amelia snorted, irritation coming back. ¡°Well, that thought isn¡¯t a nice one. Being reminded how many people I killed isn¡¯t pleasant. In fact, I¡¯d prefer if it didn¡¯t come up again, which is why I¡¯d like to avoid killing you again, if you don¡¯t fucking mind.¡± The curse felt foreign and stupid on her lips, but the damn kids around here had worn off on her a little. ¡°So maybe no more drinking things that might kill you without anyone noticing? Some people here might actually want to keep you around. You, not just that body.¡± ¡±I¡­¡± Bea hadn¡¯t considered that. The Order had been kind to her kind, but the idea that it was anything more than obligation hadn¡¯t actually occurred to her. ¡°Me?¡± Her voice sounded so wrong. Like it was far away. ¡±You. Idiot child.¡± Amelia sighed again. ¡°What have you been drinking? Nothing should have messed you up this badly. We absolutely would have noticed in early tests.¡± That was an easy question. Bea grabbed onto it like a liferaft. ¡°114-8 caused increased mouth and jaw flexibility, as well as swallowing capacity. 204-5 and 204-6 both caused sensitive and temporary nerve growth on the exterior of bones, which caused extreme pain for a short time. 211-1 created a hyperfocus on numbers, especially when formatted as a matrix or spreadsheet, and I believe it added to my ability to memorize for the duration. A second attempt of 60-1 through -8 proved that the effect was not a fluke, but the generation of chlorine gas was deemed too dangerous to continue testing.¡± ¡±At least two of those should have gotten this to stop.¡± Amelia¡¯s scowl was back in place. ¡±They didn¡¯t harm me permanently.¡± Bea reminded her. Something changed in Amelia¡¯s eyes, and she reached over to place a hand on Bea¡¯s arm. The inhabitor looked down in confusion at the point of contact while the human woman spoke. ¡°It doesn''t have to kill you to hurt you, kiddo.¡± She said. ¡°I¡­ I get it. I can see why you¡¯re thinking you have to be useful, or that you can take a risk like that. But this isn¡¯t worth it. Can you just promise you¡¯ll wait until we know something won¡¯t cause you bone pain before drinking it? Promise me.¡± In that moment, to make her emotions stop their turmoil, Bea would have promised to eat the sun. So in comparison, this was easy. ¡°Yes. I promise.¡± ¡±Good.¡± Amelia let go of her arm. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ just going to sit here. Let my damned failing heart calm down before I get back to work.¡± ¡±I will sit with you.¡± ¡±You do that.¡± _____ In the basement of the Lair, a growing enclosure of lab rats went about their business. Though it wasn¡¯t really business exactly. If they could be said to have jobs at all, it was to test potions, but this group had already tested a potion, and so their job was to simply be observed. One of them - they didn¡¯t have names, but they all knew each other, so this rat was just this rat - was working on gnawing at a piece of soft wood. It had been put here, by one of the big things, and this rat had come to understand the concept of gifts, so it had accepted the wood and decided to make it into its own gift. The gnawing was a work in progress; teeth were imperfect tools, and this rat¡¯s eyesight was limited, but it was still trying. This rat was a little hungry, and starting to feel thirsty too, but it didn¡¯t scurry to the places where nourishment could be found. Instead, it kept gnawing. Its work was interesting to it, and this rat was chasing the satisfaction of finishing a project. Also hunger and thirst gave the world a sharpness that made the food itself more enjoyable as well. The gnawing did not pause as other rats scurried past, sometimes pausing to inspect the gift in progress, sometimes offering grooming or affection. Another rat offered an invitation to attempt to solve the newest puzzle-game together, but this rat declined politely by continuing to shape the wood it had at its disposal. Another rat wasn¡¯t offended, because the idea of offense wasn¡¯t something the rats really understood. There was a time in the past when hunger and fear and instinct had driven them, and they could almost remember it sometimes. But today, much of that had been cast away. Memory was still limited to what the average rat could manage, but there was a common recollection that things had changed when they¡¯d sampled the odd tasting water. Ever since then, the rats of this enclosure had been different. There were new instincts; instincts that made them want to be near each other, enjoy time together, give each other gifts, groom and mate with more focus, and, if they had ever needed them, instincts to protect. The rats didn¡¯t have a word for it. They didn¡¯t have words at all, really. Which was why while they were perfectly capable of feeling it, they didn¡¯t actually have a word for the experience they were undergoing. Instead, they simply went about their business. But if you could ask them, they would tell you that they were content in their small world. No competition for resources gave them ample room to be kind to each other, in small rat ways, and being kind made them feel good. If they could be said to have business at all, it was, in truth, the business of being very, very happy rats. _____ Kiki closed the extra sets of ¡®eyes¡¯ that she had going on. Being some kind of magical superhero was a new experience for her, as well it should be for anyone. Or at least, so she thought. These kids had taken to it pretty well. But even though she¡¯d needed time and a fair bit of bargaining with the universe to come to grips with her own power, once she did, she found that developing new abilities came easily. One that had come up before, that she¡¯d used more than a few times, was to watch along lines of connection and compassion. As with all her powers, it needed her to really nail down the trick to it, but once she did, the scale she could work at went through the roof. Which was how, by quickly tracing lines mostly through James and Alex, she was able to ¡®infiltrate¡¯ the secretive depths of their Order. Ironically, if they were all bastards, this would have been a lot more deserved, and also a lot harder to make work. Friendships and fond memories were the easiest lines for her to follow, after all. And while mobsters and politicians had friends, they tended to not have the same kind of closely tied web that the Order of Endless Rooms had made. In a way, Kiki was following the raw pathways of a community, in her magical voyeurism. And she wasn¡¯t sure if she liked what she saw or not. On the one hand, they were exactly who they said they were. Or who they told her they were, without really knowing, at any rate. They were heroes and champions. Standard bearers for the weak and hurt and leaders for those in need. They fought odd battles to take away the fears and needs of everyone they sheltered, and somehow, despite the world around them, they won more often than they lost. And in doing that, they changed those people. Changed themselves, too. It was easy enough for her to trace the graph of emotional peaks and valleys over time for all those she peered in on, and it was even easier to see that there was a distinct upward trend in the kind of thing that made her. That was what she had become. Kindness. Not unquestioned, not pointless, and not hollow. It was kindness of all sorts. Tactical favors used to push people into prosocial behavior, simple apologies motivated by internal guilt and shame, and also just a whole lot of friendship and love driving mutual time together. They were outliers but not monsters, not incomprehensible. Especially not to all her weird new measuring tools. Suddenly, the thing that the big alien had said to her came into focus. And Kiki got to the other hand of her weighing of the Order of Endless Rooms. They weren¡¯t going to help kill her at all. They were going to try anything else, to save her, or help her, or even just let her live as she was. And they¡¯d do it selflessly, not without the thought of what she might be able to offer them, but certainly without the expectation of it. Kiki realized why they didn¡¯t find changing people¡¯s personalities to be nicer to be bothersome. It was because they¡¯d already done it to themselves. Almost all of them that she could find, even the ones that were like foggy ghosts at the edges of her different eyes. Of course they wouldn¡¯t mind. They¡¯d probably think her way was just more convenient, which fit with the current generation and their bizarre work ethic. Someone wanting this? Aggressively? It made sense, in its own way. Arrush especially was someone who fit inside Kiki¡¯s magic almost perfectly. Kindness had killed the thing he once was, and recreated him as what he now was, and it would take almost no effort to make him forever hers. If Kiki asked, he might even welcome it. It terrified her. All of it. Even the rats in the basement, though at least whatever had been done to them hadn¡¯t been done to anyone else. Yet. Whatever had happened to them hadn¡¯t changed that they were animals, but the lines of connection between all of the blazed like a furnace, and it was just a wee bit creepy to look at. The pillar - she supposed she was a pillar now, whatever that was - probably would trust them. Because that was the point; they were the most trustworthy that she¡¯d found so far. They were ambitious in the extreme, but their ambition was to eliminate disease and make families stronger and to give magic to everyone everywhere. Stupid? Maybe. Kind? Absolutely. So when James came to her and said that they¡¯d gotten a cabin in the mountains where everyone who¡¯d be running - and subject to - tests could be comfortable, Kiki nodded and began the process of telling her own Society that she¡¯d be taking a vacation. Absolutely certain that by the end of this, one way or another, they¡¯d have turned her Name around on her. She¡¯d be dead, or subject to the alterations of a force of kindness that would make her someone she wasn¡¯t before. And she¡¯d be happy for either. So much power at her call, it was an incredible thing that she could still be so afraid. Chapter 306 ¡°Believe it or not? Skeletons.¡± -Grant, A Brief Warcraft 3 Retrospective- _____ The Lair¡¯s bathhouse area had expanded significantly between when they were first put into operation, and now. The room, which had started out as essentially a hole in the concrete due to some opportunistic gold extraction, had been reconstructed in total with help from a large handful of green orbs. But despite being ship of Theseus¡¯d, it maintained what had made it special. The feeling of the treated wood highlights and copper piping, the diffuse and dancing light, the smell of soaps and hot water, the preserved and restored mosaics on the walls. All of it gave the place a cozy comfort that wrapped around everyone who spent time there like a warm towel. They also had warm towels now. As well as an upgraded workflow to actually keep those towels clean. Turned out, fun stuff like this took work. But that was life, and the residents of the Lair were comfortable putting in the collective hours to make the place shine. Even James, who had done more than a couple shifts scrubbing floor tile. Right now, he was scrubbing nothing. Instead James was just gently floating in one of the pools, the waterfall of hot water in the middle shunted away to flow more stealthily so that the people could speak without white noise, the privacy screen of decorated treated wood pulled around them. ¡±This is weird, right?¡± Alex asked, staring up at the colored lights playing off the web of brass pipes overhead. She was floating on her back, placidly unmoving as she drifted in the center of their pool. ¡±I am a giant snake.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind answered. She was currently curled in one of the shallower bowl seats around the edge, a waterproofed simple bluetooth thing plugged into her skulljack letting her speak from digital speakers sitting on the side of the pool in a safe container. Simon nodded, also sitting, leaning back against the wall of the pool from his own seat with his scarred and tanned arms over the edge. ¡°Life has been weird for a while.¡± He pointed out. ¡°But this is weird.¡± ¡±Look,¡± James told them with a laugh, ¡°the point of being what we are is that we do things our way. Our way should be understanding, compassionate, and flexible. But it should also be ours. One day, maybe one day soon, some or all of you will be on my side of this. And when that happens, apply your own eccentricities. Do these briefings on rooftops and in dungeons and at your favorite restaurants. Find the place that centers you, and work from there.¡± ¡±This is the place that centers me.¡± Alex said thoughtfully. ¡°Actually, yeah, every time I should be getting PTSD, I instead come here to get naked and wet and talk about my horrible experiences. Is that¡­ am I weird? Guys?¡± James felt like he¡¯d just finished explaining how things were different but not weird, but Alex clearly had some doubts. ¡°Actually,¡± he said, ¡°the whole thing of talking through harrowing events in their aftermath is a proven tool for preventing long term trauma. I didn¡¯t exactly know about it when we started doing this, but it does help. A lot. It¡¯s also a training tool for human neuroplasticity. Spire might be out of luck there.¡± ¡±Luck has been against me.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind confirmed. ¡°Also I am almost always naked, so I cannot become naked to fend off trauma. So. Shall we begin to talk about our luck?¡± James nodded. The reason he had these three here, after all, was to debrief them on their adventures. But really, it was less a debriefing, and more¡­ a talk. Sharing what had happened, determining what they would be following up on, and being there to support each other. Because they were, now, going to be a support network for each other. All of them had companions within the Order and sometimes friends or family outside it, but even James couldn¡¯t rely on having Alanna on call as his personal bodyguard. Paladins, though, were for that. They needed to trust each other, rely on each other, without even the thought of it. So he nodded at Simon, the human shifting forward while Alex splashed her way to a comfortable listening position, and let the first one of them talk about his errancy. ¡±I feel like mine is going to be the least interesting.¡± Simon said. ¡°I took a path southward, traveling mostly overland. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s just how the world is, or if it¡¯s what James ritualed into us, but I did get into a few small calamities on the way through the southern US and Mexico.¡± He held his arm up, showing where the little Akashic Sewer eyeball construct thing had more cleanly fused with his skin. It didn¡¯t blink, but the black sliver of a pupil suspended in the dark red ¡®eyeball¡¯ did flit to look at each of them. ¡±Creepy.¡± Alex commented, before James hushed her. ¡±Maybe. I did learn more about this¡­ thing. I keep wanting to say ¡®this guy¡¯, but it¡¯s not a person, it¡¯s just vaguely biological. I also don¡¯t know what it¡¯s doing, on a physical level, but I can tell you that the angrier I get, the stronger it makes me.¡± His mouth twitched in a small grin. ¡°Very Hulk smash, I know. Bad for endurance or even picking stuff up, but great for punching things. If I¡­¡± he paused, and breathed out slowly, ¡°the most I¡¯ve found it capable of is letting me kick through a telephone pole. Which broke a bone in my foot even through the purples. So.¡± James winced, because he was familiar with how it felt to break bones when you expected them not to. He saw Alex make a face too, but though Spire seemed sympathetic, she¡¯d never been hurt that way. Simon continued. ¡°Anyway. I was looking for something specific. Trying to solve problems while I worked to get meetings with government officials in a few places. Uruguay was the only one that really worked out. Uh¡­ I didn¡¯t officially declare war on Ecuador or anything, but there was a misunderstanding where they thought I was trying to assassinate someone. The good news is I wasn¡¯t, and also no one knows who I was, but I might not go back there. Which sucks, because the place seemed cool, and I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s a dungeon there. But I don¡¯t know where, or what, or¡­ well, it was a vibe, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡±I know that feeling.¡± James muttered. ¡±Yeah. Well, like I said, Uruguay was actually willing to listen. And then they said no. Or, the current government did. At least officially, and I turned down the secret meetings because of the general rule about participating in political conspiracies.¡± ¡±Good call.¡± All three other paladins said at once. Simon flushed a little. ¡±Thanks.¡± He muttered under the praise. ¡°Anyway, the country doesn¡¯t have any memeplexes that I could find. Of course we barely know anything about the fucking things, so I might be wrong. But their ministers seemed to be fully aware of dungeon creatures roaming around, and accepted the nonhuman thing right away.¡± He pulled his hands out of the water, watching casually as droplets rolled down his arm. ¡°That part of the world has a lot of tension right now, and I think it¡¯s because of the dungeons, but I don¡¯t know how exactly. I did end up finding something that had definitely roamed out of a dungeon, and I brought back a body.¡± ¡±Sophont?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind asked. ¡±I don¡¯t know.¡± Simon admitted. ¡°It ignored me talking, and I watched it for a while to study its behavior. It was acting like an animal, but with the violence turned all the way up. Nesting, eating, grooming, all kinda normal. Except it was killing anything it could find to eat it. I stepped in when it went for someone¡¯s dog, and the guy with the dog too. Which might have caused an international incident, so sorry about that in advance.¡± He waited for James to finish sighing before he continued. ¡°Also whatever it is, it¡¯s from a non-drop dungeon. Or it¡¯s like the Underburbs and it needs more than one kill. Either way, nothing new for me.¡± James shrugged, pulling his feet up under himself as he shifted. ¡°Nothing wrong with that. Alex, you wanna go next?¡± ¡±Sure, sure. Uh. How do I¡­ do that?¡± ¡±I mean, do what Simon did. Did you have any adventures?¡± Alex swept a hand over her head, nervously wringing water out of her short hair. ¡°A bunch I guess. Some of them kinda small. I think I legally own property in, like, four countries now? I¡¯m not really keeping track. I stopped an arson! Oh, I did a lot of investigation on different memeplexs. Simon kinda brought this up; we don¡¯t know shit about how they actually work, you know? But I can now clearly say that they work differently in different places.¡± James had kind of heard this, but wanted to know more. ¡°Elaborate on that. Also good job on the arson thing.¡± ¡±Thanks! It was weird! But yeah, I kinda had my authority protecting me from mental effects, and it alerted me to something big. Which I guess was the local memeplex. But when I left to go handle a job, it shifted. I spent a while hopping between places, and yeah, there¡¯s just different ways that different geographical regions handle the veil.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind sputtered out a wet hiss. ¡°The what?¡± She asked from her displaced voice poolside. Alex sunk slightly into the water. ¡°You know, like, the thing that keeps normal humans from knowing about magic. It¡¯s a trope that shows up in a lot of fiction. ¡®The veil¡¯ or sometimes ¡®the masquerade¡¯ or something.¡± ¡°That one¡¯s copywritten I think.¡± Simon provided helpfully. ¡±Cool. Anyway. I found a few methods. Selective blindness, hostile rejection, and I think it might have been a dungeon but one small area just caused nightmares? I marked that one, Alice and Charlie are checking it out after they finally find the Underburbs. But also none of them were exactly like what our local area has, with the whole ¡®information doesn¡¯t spread¡¯ thing.¡± She scratched at her mostly healed arm. ¡°That was what I was trying to work on when I ended up in Oklahoma.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind floated past Alex, camera lens focused on the girl. ¡°Yes, tell us about Oklahoma.¡± She said, no hint of sarcasm in her voice. Alex flushed anyway, though that might have been from being scrutinized like this. ¡°Short story? I caught a delver serial killer. His power wasn¡¯t drop on death, but it was some kind of duel thing, and since I won the last duel¡­ well, I got a lot of what he had. I¡¯m faster now. A lot faster. I think it¡¯s a finite resource, and there¡¯s a lot to using it that I don¡¯t get, but yeah.¡± They paused for a moment as the sound of laughing voices passed by their pool. Their conversation wasn¡¯t a secret exactly, but there was a kind of habit of not sharing within earshot of others that was hard to break. When they were passed, James cleared his throat. ¡°There was something else that came out of that part of your adventure. You wanna cover it, or should I?¡± ¡±Yeah. Yeah.¡± Alex took a breath. ¡°Well, we definitely know there¡¯s other delvers out there. But also, in case anyone¡¯s just been sleeping since they got back, yeah, I ran into the NOPGAP and things kinda got weird from there.¡± Simon slowly pressed his hands together in front of his mouth like a silent prayer. ¡°The what.¡± ¡±The NOPGAP. You know, the¡­ I forget the exact name, I just remember how fun the acronym is to say.¡± Simon ticked off words on his fingers. ¡°Northern. Oklahoma. Proud. Grandparents. Adventuring¡­ Society. Alex there¡¯s no P at the end it¡¯s an S. So NOPGAS, I guess.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind hissed again. ¡±That¡¯s much worse.¡± She commented, still floating in circles in the middle of the pool. ¡±Whatever! You knew what I meant! Look, the point is, they¡¯re us, but older, and they have a pillar. And she¡¯s nice. She doesn¡¯t even think she is a pillar, never heard of them, even if they¡¯re the same kind of thing.¡± James nodded to the other two. ¡°Her name is Kiki, which is a moniker for ¡®Kill ¡®Em With Kindness¡¯.¡± He tried not to flash a smirk as Simon winced. ¡°She actually does seem nice, which could just be a long con against us. We¡¯re putting her up in a cabin up in the mountains while Research works to figure out how to help her with her predicament. That predicament being that she¡¯s¡­ well¡­¡± he motioned at Alex. ¡°She changes people her magic works on. Makes them kinder, mostly, but there might be more stuff we don¡¯t know. And her magic leaks a bit.¡± ¡±Personally I feel great and think everyone should make her queen of the world.¡± Alex commented. Then cleared her throat. ¡°Which I guess I get why people would be worried about. Sorry James, you¡¯re off the table as potential ruler of everything, at least for my vote.¡± ¡±Thank fuck.¡± James muttered as he swished his feet underwater. ¡°That was too stressful.¡± ¡±Is this not a massive problem?¡± Simon asked. ¡°Her magic is leaking?¡± ¡±Yeah, it¡¯s weird. Also she seems new by pillar standards, but also way less unstable than all the others we¡¯ve met.¡± Alex held up her hands defensively. ¡°I know I can¡¯t be trusted to be objective! I¡¯m just saying, she doesn¡¯t have any weird self-destructive behavior going on, you know?¡± James elected to not share that Kiki had literally asked him to kill her. Not right now, anyway, because Alex might be prompted to do something about that. He¡¯d fill the other paladins in later. Via private text, probably. ¡°Alright. Spire, you¡¯re up. What was your adventure like?¡± The camraconda leaned back, drifting in a loop and staring silently at the ceiling. It took her a while to actually answer, long enough that Alex and Simon started shifting uncomfortably. When she did start speaking, it was like she was very distant from her own words, and not just because of the lack of proximity to her speakers. ¡°I took a road trip to Montana, which was randomly selected.¡± She said. ¡°Two knights accompanied me, and we had a relatively smooth journey, while we became closer socially.¡± There was another long pause. Long enough that Alex felt like she had to ¡®interrupt¡¯. ¡°What was in Montana?¡± ¡±A small town called Opheim.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said, twisting with a splash in the warm water to look Alex¡¯s way. ¡°Population listed at sixty five, real population closer to forty five. Current population zero.¡± ¡±Shit.¡± Simon said without thinking. ¡±I agree.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind¡¯s body slumped as she flicked herself to propel closer to the wall, and then drape herself over the smooth tile. ¡°I thought there was a dungeon. Then I thought there was a remnant of some kind, or a leak like Simon found. Maybe that was correct. What I found was¡­ was¡­¡± She went silent, and Alex scooted herself sideways by inches until she was next to the camraconda, gently leaning over and reaching out a hand to place on Spire¡¯s back. The mass of red, white, and yellow cables flinching away from the touch at first, before realizing it was Alex and slowly pressing back into her hand. Which turned into a hug, when it became clear that Spire was silently crying, small bursts of hisses coming out uncontrollably. Her voice still worked though. ¡°I was too slow.¡± She said as Alex held her, the intimate sensation comforting her enough that she could keep speaking. ¡°The town had been under siege, and no one knew. Not a memeplex. Another effect of some kind. A loose dungeon megafauna that ate the images of people and turned them into¡­ soldiers. Weapons? Troops.¡± She raised her head to look back at the other humans. ¡°Five survivors. Five. And of them, three would not accept infomorph protection, and forgot soon after.¡± James floated over, sharing a questioning look with Alex and getting an approving nod before he joined the shared hug, offering physical comfort to the camraconda that was going through something deeply familiar to him. ¡°Yeah.¡± He whispered. ¡°I get it.¡± Simon didn¡¯t join them physically, but did swim around to be on their side of the pool. ¡°That¡¯s a big problem though, right? I mean, Spire, I don¡¯t think you should blame yourself. If you weren¡¯t there, it would have been zero. But also being ambushed isn¡¯t a moral failing. But also, getting ambushed at all by¡­ how big was the thing? I mean, it¡¯s a problem of its own.¡± ¡°It was bigger than anything we¡¯ve seen.¡± Spire said. ¡°Video analysis puts it at over a hundred and eighty feet long, and twenty feet thick. No internal organs, nothing but the outer rings and the solidified light and the effect. Whatever dungeon it came from, its door would have to be enormous, or some other magic let it out. Or¡­¡± ¡±Or it¡¯s not from a dungeon.¡± James finished, moving back and letting Alex take point on comforting the camraconda. ¡°Which would be bad. But seems unlikely?¡± Spire wasn¡¯t willing to sit out her own debriefing just because she was experiencing an overload of grief. ¡±This could be an alternate form of a pillar? We could ask the new woman, perhaps. But all we have now are pieces of its remains. When JP moved the Order¡¯s shield teams and other knights in, they did so with a mortar barrage that made closer investigation difficult.¡± ¡°Hm. This confirms what I¡¯ve long suspected, that being under artillery fire makes things harder.¡± Simon blinked slowly. ¡±James why did you suspect that?¡± ¡°Skill ranks. Early skill ranks, actually. I¡¯ve been waiting to make this joke for a while, since even when we¡¯re using mortar barrages, I¡¯m not involved.¡± James sighed theatrically. ¡°Okay. Now. I have one question for all of you. The big question, really.¡± He waited as they moved to look at him while he stood in the middle of the pool, his toes just barely reaching what wasn¡¯t even the deepest part. ¡°How do you think you all did?¡± ¡±Terribly.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said quickly. ¡±Not great.¡± Alex followed up. ¡±Not good enough.¡± Simon added. James looked at the three of them. Each of them had, honestly, failed to accomplish their actual goals. The idea of the errancy had been more to summon the Right Person At The Right Moment than for any proven efficacy in training new paladins. But he¡¯d still committed to sending them out, and every one of them had brought back more problems than they¡¯d solved. Which was, in a word, perfect. That was exactly what he¡¯d hoped. That these people would weave threads binding the Order of Endless Rooms into the world at large more firmly. That they¡¯d learn both how to win and how to lose, not as part of the Order, but on their own. The way they might be handling future problems; as problems themselves, dropped in like ink into clear water to mess everything up and pave the way for the Order to follow. There must have been an expression on his face that said something. Because when he started talking after they shared the fact that they didn¡¯t think they¡¯d done well at all, they didn¡¯t seem surprised at his words. ¡°You¡¯ve all proven you¡¯re the kind of people who should be paladins.¡± He said. ¡°I know it¡¯s not always easy, and I know it¡¯s not always fun, but I also know you can be strong in the face of that. You all did something, and you didn¡¯t have to. So good job.¡± He smiled slightly. ¡°There¡¯s a special run of assorted copied magic upstairs for all of you, once you¡¯re dried off. And you¡¯ll also find your schedules have paladin briefings and training sessions on them now.¡± ¡±You do get that none of us feel ready for this, right?¡± Simon asked sardonically. ¡±Well yeah.¡± James laughed. ¡°You never will. Cliche, I know, but come on. I still don¡¯t feel ready. No single person is ever going to be ready for what we have to deal with. That¡¯s why there¡¯s four of us now. So let¡¯s¡­ you know¡­ get back to it.¡± He shrugged with a lopsided grin, resisting the urge to rub at his damaged and sightless eye. It itched without the patch on. Alex let go of Spire, leaving a lingering pat on the camraconda¡¯s head. ¡°So what do we do now? Like, exactly.¡± ¡±Lend a hand around here. Go on some delves. Get practice with magic or mundane stuff.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll be doing the same for a bit. But in a few days, we¡¯re going to pick what we do next, and I want all of you to be there, because you¡¯re like me now.¡± He swam over to the steps out of their pool. ¡°And I mean, really. The next time we do this, you¡¯re not reporting to me. You¡¯re paladins now, whether you feel it or not. And that means every disaster is ours to handle, and new nonsense is ours to discover. Got it?¡± ¡±No.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind admitted bluntly. ¡°But I suspect I will learn. Or am learning.¡± ¡±Great!¡± James said, wrapping himself in a towel as he went to grab the purification brooch. ¡°Now I¡¯ve got to go deal with, like, a million more things today. So rest up, catch up with what you missed while you were on the road, and I¡¯ll see you all later.¡± He left them still not feeling like they were real paladins. But all of them realized, slowly, that something had changed. And while they were all uniquely worried about what was ahead of them, none of them wanted to turn back now. _____ The leveler crown was a frankly bizarre item. Out of all the dungeontech that the Order had, all the weird magic items and literal skill ranks and actual potions - though no health potions yet - the crown stood out as unique. Because it was the only case they really knew of a metamagic effect. A lot of what it did was weird and often a little bit silly. It made you yearn to write poetry and let you freehand draw circles better. It made certain species produce pheromones that made them irresistible to both moths and ratroaches, and it made certain other species smell like cherries, which made them irresistible to select individuals but for more personal reasons. It also seemed to prevent acne for a couple days. But then, it did other stuff that was more useful too. Like helping people manage anxiety, or reducing the impact of chronic pain. Things that could hugely improve the lives of a lot of people. Except that it only made six and a half charges a day, even when the mild time shenanigans in the Lair were being put to work. So while those effects were great, it was the other, even weirder ones, that people looked to. Compressing Velocity so that Route Horizon spells had more impact. Incrementing absorbed blue orb charges for powers that would otherwise be lost. And who even knew what other esoteric interactions with magic they hadn¡¯t found yet. Of course it wasn¡¯t a pick-and-choose effect, as James had discovered previously when it turned out that compressing your velocity also ended up making the ratroaches in your life uncomfortably horny around you. But it was still a unique and invaluable asset. So he was maybe gonna break it. ¡±So I understand the details.¡± Alanna told him as he finished his explanation. ¡°I¡¯m also in the know on the big picture. Like, we voted on this. We were in the same room when we voted on this. We had a whole conversation. I even said yes, I¡¯m fine taking a risk on ruining the most valuable spellwork we have for you and Anesh.¡± James nodded stoically. ¡°The ratroach pher-¡° ¡±The ratroach pheromones correct.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice overlapped his. ¡°What I¡¯m getting at here is, why are you doing this? Specifically. Aren¡¯t you going into fucking surgery later?¡± ¡±That¡¯s early tomorrow morning and this is fun. Also I have the most experience at imbuing looted Status Quo gear.¡± James shrugged as he rolled one of the orbs on the folding table in front of him. ¡°I dunno, I¡¯m kinda just excited to see what comes out of it. And also this way, if something goes wrong, it can be my fault and not someone else!¡± Alanna crossed her arms at him, muscles pulling at the thing material of her workout tank top. ¡°No, James.¡± She enunciated precisely. ¡°Why are you doing this on stage.¡± Looking around at the small stage set up in the delver briefing area, where there were multiple cameras watching him so anyone who wanted could tune in to the stream, and also a handful of people in the seats nearby, James grinned and rubbed a hand on the back of his head just under his ponytail. ¡°So¡­ everyone can watch it be my fault?¡± He said. ¡°Also the stage is just kind of a nice open place, and it wasn¡¯t in use! I didn¡¯t actually think anyone would come hang out.¡± ¡±You¡¯re being streamed.¡± ¡±That¡¯s not hanging out. Chat isn¡¯t real.¡± James scoffed. ¡°Anyway. Let¡¯s do this!¡± For all the buildup and goofing off in their banter that he and Alanna were doing, the actual process was surprisingly easy. James actually did practice with the magic that the Order used, even if he didn¡¯t have as much time as dedicated Researchers. One minute, he was checking the crown¡¯s stats¡­ [Inner Spirit Ignition - 5 - 39 / 2710 - 1:3:40 (0)] ¡­no charges left because obviously they¡¯d wanted to use them up just in case. Level five, only just starting its journey to six. Only a single esoteric ability with an hour left on the cooldown. James focused in the weird way that was required to imbue this already-magic item. What was a crown? What could make a crown special but obtuse? But also, what was this crown? It wasn¡¯t really a hat or a symbol of a throne, it was something else. And he didn¡¯t really know what. That was part of the fun of it; that little mystery that sat there and teased out the deeper desires of everyone who used it to know a little more. To pry into the secrets of magic itself. This crown, which stubbornly resisted being reshaped into a size that could be copied, that had an ability name like it was threatening to ignite someone¡¯s dantian, this decorated circlet of silver and ivory that wasn¡¯t really alive but certainly didn¡¯t let that stop it from being a little sarcastic¡­ James felt like he understood this crown. The size four blue orb and the three yellows of equal weight that had been brought out for this - because there was nothing quite like overkill when you only had one shot - all slipped into the crown in an easy motion. James felt his focus almost slip, but then suddenly snap as the task was complete. And an intact, slightly more magic item sat in his hands. He checked what it could do again. [Inner Spirit Ignition - 5 - 39 / 2710 - 1:3:40 (0) Infusion Following Praxis - 1 - 0/225 - 4:00:00 (0)] ¡±Oh good!¡± He said happily. ¡±What, what did you do.¡± Alanna¡¯s voice was the first to reply to him as a few other people in his impromptu audience applauded. ¡°Is it going to explode? I feel like I¡¯ve literally heard you say ¡®oh good¡¯ in that tone before something exploded.¡± ¡±That was my cooking, it was years ago, and this isn¡¯t nearly that calamitous.¡± James laughed and gently set the crown down. They¡¯d have to be careful with it now that it was a blue item; one hit point meant one hit point, and while it might have been worth doing this, it would definitely increase their liability insurance if they had any. ¡°No, it¡¯s just a weirdly obtuse name.¡± Nik hopped up onto the stage with a padded carrying case ready. ¡°So what¡¯s it do?¡± He asked. ¡±I¡­ Nik they don¡¯t work that way. I just said it was obtuse.¡± The Researcher shook his head despondently. ¡°Is it too much to ask someone around here actually tell me what dungeontech does before handing it to me?¡± He bemoaned as he packaged up the crown and carried it off to the basement where their literal job was answering the question he had just tried to skip. James felt like maybe this was an inside joke that he was looking at from a great distance. But he made sure to double check that he¡¯d added himself to the update thread for the crown. Four hours later, he would learn that it put something ephemeral into a held object, and no one knew exactly what. Four hours after that, he¡¯d learn that it worked on other leveler items (though not itself) and it added about two days worth of charges. His high fives with whoever was closest at the time got more enthusiastic with each update. _____ It wasn¡¯t quite evening yet. The end of August still had long hours of daylight, and while James¡¯ day had been crammed so far, he was still planning to get a few more things done. So he enjoyed the warmth of the sun in the process of setting as he teleported to his old workplace, which was now technically his current workplace again, and really, had always been somewhere he¡¯d ¡°worked¡± since Officium Mundi¡¯s doors were here. He could have driven, but he¡¯d become spoiled by telepads, and right now, they weren¡¯t really a limited resource for the Order. He was interested in finding other ways to link distant doors. They¡¯d done it once, for their elevator, and James was pretty sure that a select part of exactly how they¡¯d done it had been aggressively forgotten, because they absolutely should have found a way to do it again by now. Still, for today, he just blipped into the parking lot as a car was pulling out, and made a mental note to remind everyone that just because they were an organization of magically secret vigilantes didn¡¯t mean you didn¡¯t have to get license plates.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. That wasn¡¯t why he was here though. He was here for Recovery. The floor they were on was, bizarrely, an office. Just¡­ a normal, functioning office. Cubicles and everything. James had thought for a long time that he¡¯d had a problem with cubicles. And he¡¯d felt a little vindicated when he¡¯d encountered the capital-O-Office where cubicles turned into an endless exhausting maze seemingly designed to disorient and trap unsuspecting fools. But it turned out, most of why he didn¡¯t like cubicles in real life was that the also seemed to do exactly that. And when you had a few clear signs, and an environment where your management wasn¡¯t at war with the rest of the staff, it turned into something a lot more pleasant really fast. Turns out vibes mattered, which James really should have grasped earlier. The people in the cubicles, not all of them human, gave him polite bobs or smiles as he passed. The staff here doing the necessary paperwork and making the right phone calls to ensure that life could continue for the victims the Order supported. Housing arrangements, matching foster families, job placement, mental health check ins, setting appointments and making sure people could get to them, investigative work into missing friends or family, and scheduling the increasingly complex but organized web of connections that the Order itself had with many of their internal residents. It all happened here, and while they were expanding their bureaucracy to allow for future expansions, it was all done with the primary goal of making help happen as fast as possible. James liked this place. He wasn¡¯t here to bother anyone who had multiple phone calls to make - a superpower that he was frankly in awe of and would never be able to match with simple magic - he was instead here to bother Juan. Juan opened the door to the small meeting room four seconds before James knocked on the door. ¡°You don¡¯t knock for these.¡± He said with casual anticipation of the paladin¡¯s actions. ¡±There¡¯s no window on this door, how did-¡° ¡±Planner. Come in.¡± Juan grabbed a seat at the part of the large horseshoe table he¡¯d decided to use, and slid a folder across to James. ¡°There¡¯s a group of new kids who have this room booked in half an hour, so let¡¯s be quick, or Planner will throw us out the window.¡± ¡±Ooh, defenestration. I don¡¯t get to do that very often!¡± James sat and ignored Juan¡¯s rapid blinking stare. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s it. That¡¯s my joke for this meeting. Also hi, I was supposed to be talking to Connie and Yish today?¡± ¡±They¡¯re busy with a thing. Well, Connie is. And Yish is following her. You said no distractions?¡± Juan sounded resigned to the tangents anyway. So James felt fine continuing. ¡°Yeah, wait, the last time we talked you were in Research.¡± ¡±Ritual, technically. But I couldn¡¯t really learn Momo¡¯s weird talent, and also I kinda accidentally picked up seven different relevant skill ranks, so I¡¯m here now, and it feels pretty damn good to put that to use. And I know you know how that goes.¡± ¡°I do!¡± James nodded happily as he opened the manilla folder. It was exactly how he¡¯d felt the first time he¡¯d used his cooking skill ranks. Or when he¡¯d put card counting into practice to get the Order some of its startup money. Or, gloriously, the one time he¡¯d gotten to use his preposterously niche backpack combat ability to full effect. So when Juan said that, James got it right away, and he also understood that this flexibility was the core power of the Order. One skill rank could change where someone belonged, and enabling that movement of people got better results than trying to keep things ¡®stable¡¯. ¡°Well, congrats. So! Business. The crocamaws.¡± Juan tapped his mechanical pencil at the top of the first page in James¡¯ folder without looking. ¡°Demon species XII-I, according to our friends.¡± He pronounced the individual letters and the em-dash. ¡±According to our strategic opposition.¡± James corrected, holding up his index finger with his eyes calmly closed in an ah, hold on motion. ¡°Also I¡®ve seen Morgan¡¯s memes going around. The kids call them crocamaws.¡± Juan held his mechanical pencil in place while he stared into James¡¯ eye. ¡±It¡¯s actually absurd how I¡¯m only twenty three years old and I feel like talking about the damn kids these days.¡± He flatly said. ¡°Whatever. They¡¯re confused, and all pretty new. The crocamaws, not the damn kids, that is. They don¡¯t seem stupid, and they can understand and speak language, especially after some help. A few of them opted for skulljacks too. They seem like they have problems with some social cues, but¡­¡± he shrugged. Pursing his lips, James silently considered the fact that he had trouble with a lot of social cues. ¡°No issues with them lashing out, like with ratroaches?¡± He asked. ¡±Oh, no, that is the social cue problem. They have a pretty hair trigger attack response. We¡¯ve had a few injuries so far. They¡¯re not exactly vicious, but all the ones we found were combatants. The Mormon bishops use them as bodyguards for delving. Uh¡­ we have a copy of the containment spell, by the way.¡± The name of the spell was dumb, James had seen it during his quick look through the Order¡¯s loot. Bell By Midnight did absolutely nothing to explain itself, but it seemed to be¡­ well¡­ James couldn¡¯t call it anything except a magic pokeball. It was also the only one they had outside information on, one of the people they were negotiating with having let slip to Redding that it was a level four spell. Which was slightly contradictory to what the Order knew, but not by much. They used it to hold the creatures they called demons, and control them when let out. Though there was no information on if the spell would work on non-dungeon life and James didn¡¯t want to find out. Though he suspected they would. ¡°What about the other ones? The goat swans, and the ankylosaurus things?¡± ¡±Non-sophont. The big thing is¡­ not even remotely an ankylosaurus despite the armor and tail, but it acts sorta like a hippo. It just wants to eat a lot and relax, so we set it up in an abandoned swimming pool in Townton and fenced the area off. The flyers are harder to manage, and there¡¯s about twenty of them as survivors of the church¡¯s bad decisions. We¡¯re considering releasing them back into the dungeon.¡± ¡±Would that be best for them?¡± James asked. Juan shrugged. ¡°Honestly? It might mean they get killed by a delver team later when they attack us. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s good for them exactly. I don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re still feeling the effects of the mind control. They are aggressive though. I think they might be happier if we just build them a habitat and feed them a few dozen trout every day.¡± ¡±Trout?¡± ¡±They love fish.¡± The blunt answer almost threw James off. ¡°Okay. Well, that¡¯s¡­ a thing to look into. How are we handling the crocamaws? Practically, I mean.¡± ¡±There¡¯s few enough that each of them has an assigned knight that they¡¯re shadowing and living with. We don¡¯t know how things will go, but right now, people are hopeful. We¡¯re also keeping an eye out for more, though we need a way to detect if someone is holding one ¡®inside¡¯ the spell.¡± Juan paused. ¡°I¡¯m not officially asking, but it would be nice if there were some surprise checkups on them, just to see if they have more captives like this.¡± James nodded, already planning to rustle up Arrush and Alanna to help him commit tactically useful breaking and entering. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll see what I can do about that absurdly specific request. The first one. Not the second unofficial one.¡± He had no fucking clue where he was going to start with getting ahold of a magic detector. That was one of those meta effects that just never seemed to show up. ¡°What about the human side of this mess? The kids?¡± ¡°Ironically - I think, I don¡¯t actually know what irony is - they¡¯re doing a lot worse than the dungeon mobs.¡± Juan¡¯s grimace didn¡¯t instill confidence in James, and the way he rapidly tapped his fingers on the chipped laminated surface of the table didn¡¯t help the image. ¡°The ones we pulled out of their prisons are in bad shape, but they¡¯re going to recover, and we can help with that. We¡¯re working on building foster families using a patented Order experimental pattern for them, and given that it¡¯s still August, all of them are going to have at least a little time to recover before they go back to school. We¡¯re putting them in the equally experimental Order school, too, because that might ironically be the most stable way to make them feel normal, and they need that with their socialization.¡± ¡±At least one of those is not irony.¡± James said. ¡°Experimental foster family program?¡± He was pretty sure he knew, but wanted confirmation. ¡±It¡¯s a community collective approach to handling raising kids. Group living situations with multiple different sets of ¡®parent¡¯ figures, support available and openly offered from a broader set of individuals, that kind of thing. It¡¯s sort of more resource intensive, and it relies on some of the volunteers being okay living together when they might not know each other perfectly well ahead of time. It¡¯s sort of been tested previously with ratroach and camraconda integration, and there¡¯s mundane research evidence that it works on humans, so we¡¯re trying it.¡± In a vague way, James kind of understood how having multiple designated adults in a kid¡¯s life could help them be more comfortable, and also heavily cut down on abuse. He needed to do more reading, clearly, though, because his instinctive (and stifled) response was to think that he would have gone mad if he¡¯d grown up with an extra version of his mom. ¡°Okay.¡± He said out loud. ¡°What about the other ones? The non-prisoner ones?¡± ¡±Less. Less good. A lot less.¡± Juan took a deep breath. ¡°A lot of them weren¡¯t kept as prisoners because they were exceptionally good at doing what they were told. Following orders, believing what they were raised and instructed to believe, and essentially being groomed to be good faithful soldiers.¡± He turned to stare at the back wall of the room, shaking his head as he talked. ¡°A lot of the ones Recovery has talked to that are still with their bio families are resentful of losing access to their magic, and angry at us for going against what they see as the will of their god. Though when I say ¡®what they see¡¯, you need to understand, it¡¯s not a coherent ideology. Some of these kids are ten, and just angrily lashing out at us because we¡¯re the ¡®bad guys¡¯ they¡¯ve been warned about. And there¡¯s no way we¡¯re forcibly rehoming a specific class of people.¡± ¡±Yikes. Yeah, no.¡± James agreed instantly. ¡°But it¡¯s a hard problem to solve, isn¡¯t it? We need them to trust us, and that means we need the parents to trust us, but the parents think we¡¯re fucking with their expression of faith, right?¡± He got a grim nod. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s bleak. But at least¡­ I mean, they¡¯ll never thank us for it, but at least they have a chance at having a real choice.¡± ¡±And we¡¯ll probably get a few more ¡®problem children¡¯ in the next few months as this boils over.¡± Juan said. ¡°And there¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s more of them than you thought. There¡¯s at least eight hundred cases that we¡¯re tracking so far, and I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the end of it.¡± ¡±Jesus Christ.¡± James swore softly. Juan nodded. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s blame him.¡± ¡±No, I¡­¡± James narrowed his surviving eye at the bad joke. ¡°¡­alright. Well. Thanks for keeping me appraised.¡± He said. ¡±No worries. Anything else?¡± Juan started to stand up, leaving the documentation with James. A raised hand stopped his escape, and James nodded to cement the fact that Juan wasn¡¯t getting out of here that easy. ¡°I have a few side things from you guys that I¡¯d like to check in on. I got notes on two of the New York Status Quo prisoner survivors?¡± ¡±Oh! Yeah, they want to go back to being delvers.¡± Juan sat again in the uncomfortable hard plastic chair. ¡°But not as part of the Order. Just on their own, but in our dungeons.¡± James frowned a little. ¡°Hm. We could¡­ that¡¯s an interesting problem. We could say yes, as long as they follow common rules of etiquette in the dungeons? Maybe a percentage magic tax on exit, but that¡¯s weird for places like the climb, and meaningless anyway. I dunno, we should maybe have a general meeting discussion and vote about that.¡± He let a few ideas freewheel out of his mouth before setting on the easiest option; get smarter people to draft smarter rules, and then collectively decide those rules were useful. ¡±I¡¯ll leave that to you to set up. Oh, before I forget, Ruby and Prince both wanted to join the Order formally, going the other direction.¡± ¡±No shit?¡± James hadn¡¯t thought that the shapeshifters liked him that much. Maybe it was just him, and not the Order as a whole. ¡°Did they say why? Wait, do they have some weird ulterior motive?¡± Maybe the fact that he¡¯d jumped to that thought was why they didn¡¯t like him much. Juan¡¯s answer almost got a laugh from James though. ¡°Yeah. They want shaper substance.¡± He said. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough for recreational purposes, and they know that being knights will get them a broader magic resource stipend. Personal reasons.¡± He answered James¡¯ question before James could ask it. ¡±What about the kids that they¡¯re protective of? The ones that¡¯re obviously delvers, but, like, fourteen or so.¡± James asked. Juan¡¯s eyes closed as he checked through his skulljack for the Recovery records. ¡°They don¡¯t remember their families, in a dark reverse-antimeme situation, and they trust Ruby and Prince, so they¡¯re staying with us. They¡¯ll be attending the mid-level of our school, which they chose because they have ratroach friends.¡± He sighed and rubbed at his eyes as he opened them, the wonderful reality of those kids having friends at all much less nonhuman ones just kind of sliding past him as he continued. He¡¯d heard the good news already, he was used to it. ¡°We¡¯ve got another eight ratroaches and two camracondas this week, too. Actually working with Recovery has shown me that we¡¯re running short on one really important resource.¡± ¡±Healing potions? Because I¡¯ve put in a request with the universe and it hasn¡¯t replied.¡± ¡±No, time.¡± Juan ignored James¡¯ joke in favor of his own sense of drama. ¡°We¡¯re trying to build a bureaucracy that can help us manage things, but we¡¯re starting to get stretched thin. Stuff like this, these updates? They¡¯re really important for keeping everyone on the same page, but they¡¯re taking up time I could be spending arranging meal plans or checking for demon captives. We need more people, but we also need faster processes. And¡­ and I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m about to say this¡­ better paperwork.¡± ¡±Ah, my mortal enemy.¡± James grimaced. ¡±Aren¡¯t you a paladin? You file reports all the time.¡± ¡±Nate files reports based on my debriefings. I¡¯ve never done a single piece of paperwork for that job.¡± James was fully confident that wasn¡¯t true, but it sounded funny to say that as he stood up from his seat. Juan glared after him as he followed James out, Planner¡¯s gentle influence putting them through the door thirty seconds before they would otherwise be blocking the next people who had the room booked. ¡°I¡¯m going to form my own Order.¡± He threatened. ¡°Just out of spite for that. I¡¯ll make my own paladins, and make them do paperwork.¡± Despite the bizarre nature of the threat, James was kind of on board with that. ¡°Have fun.¡± He told Juan. ¡°Just remember, if you start it, you¡¯re gonna end up with my job.¡± He grinned as the young Recovery agent swore colorfully in a few mixed languages, making his escape from his old workplace now equipped with a little more information than when he¡¯d started. _____ Two swords tapped against each other, tested for a split second the conviction of the other duelist, then disengaged. Both fighters moved a quarter step, shuffling their feet as one tried to close the gap and the other denied it. The blades met again, twice more, the strikes sending the sound of thin metal clattering through the air. James and Anesh stepped away from each other, holding their fencing rapiers out in a mirrored stance. The first time they¡¯d done this, Anesh had handily taken James apart. The last time they¡¯d fenced, after spending years casually doing it together as a hobby, they¡¯d been more even but Anesh had still been better. This time, James was winning. Though it might be because of two different conditions for this particular spar. ¡±Why are we doing this on stage?¡± Anesh asked as he bought a second to catch his breath. His boyfriend had gotten both faster and more precise, and while neither of them were masters of the sport, Anesh could tell that the gaps he¡¯d previously been easily exploiting were covered up by James just being a lot more aware. ¡±Because it¡¯s fun, Anesh!¡± His boyfriend answered happily, striking forward with a flick of his wrist and not giving Anesh a chance to recover. That strike got parried too, and Anesh riposted in a flawless move that only got dodged because of condition number two. It only lasted a second, but his lapse in concentration let James pull their relationstick bond toward himself; the collective amount of ¡®speed¡¯ that the two of them normally shared equally tipping in his direction and giving him the agility to avoid Anesh¡¯s counter. Then Anesh had it back, and a little extra, and he turned that into a pressing attack that had James taking steps back and frantically trying to keep his blade in basic parry positions to deflect. Their audience gave a variety of cheers at the action. Sarah happily egging them on, multiple other Anesh watching carefully and critiquing his own form, Daniel and Pathfinder just kind of there for the show, Ishah and a few other ratroaches James didn¡¯t recognize taking a break from their delver academic training to wonder why the humans were fighting, and Bea sitting silently next to an equally quiet camraconda, both of them covered in glitter, both of them waving tiny flags supporting Anesh. James really wanted to know where those had come from. Or how they¡¯d gotten them so fast. Or why they were here at all. Or especially what was up with the glitter and how he could avoid that fate. His moment of distraction let Anesh get really close to hitting him on his face mask, but his boyfriend hadn¡¯t fully noticed and capitalized on it. Which gave James the space to sweep it aside, and give a breathless laugh. ¡°See? Fun!¡± He declared. ¡±For them maybe!¡± Anesh answered. The words were a bit rude, but there was a joy in his voice that he let himself feel more completely as he lunged forward. James had been waiting for a lunge like that. With a tiny grin behind his protective mask, he pulled on the mental muscle required to cast a spell, and brought out a single mostly well timed use of frost vector. Anesh found his lunge suddenly problematic, as all friction between his shoe, and the smooth wood of the briefing warehouse stage they were goofing around on, vanished. But it wasn¡¯t that awkward, because he¡¯d felt the temperature drop, and when James had started casting that spell he¡¯d also slipped on the tug-o-war of their relationstick corridor. So Anesh felt like he had ample time to react, and cast his own Climb magic. Worldwalker Piton was an odd choice for someone who wasn¡¯t a dedicated Climb delver, but Anesh liked it and he had plenty of extra slots since he wasn¡¯t taking some of the more combative spells. For five seconds, he couldn¡¯t trip. Which meant that even though he could feel the lack of friction like he was standing on a tiny pillow of air, he also wasn¡¯t sliding. James never had a moment to reconsider that his plan hadn¡¯t worked. Anesh¡¯s rapier tapped into the breast of his fencing jacket, just over his heart, right before Anesh¡¯s spell wore off and he was suddenly sliding forward. He lost his grip on his blade as he windmilled his arms, before James caught him and bent him down like they were in a Shakespearean romance, their protective masks tapping against each other. ¡°Hi!¡± James said happily as he cradled his boyfriend. ¡±Hi yourself. I won.¡± ¡±In my defense,¡± James laughed as he caught his breath and straightened Anesh back up, ¡°I¡¯m tired from helping to haul worm chunks into a teleport site for the last hour and a half.¡± He turned and bowed to the sparse audience, getting a round of applause from Sarah. ¡°See? Fun!¡± He told Anesh. Anesh pulled his mask off to wipe sweat and stuck hair off his forehead. ¡°If we weren¡¯t using magic I¡¯d be winning more.¡± He said. James walked past, tapping Anesh on the nose lightly with a hand gloved in thick white padding. ¡°But if we weren¡¯t using magic, I¡¯d be losing more!¡± He said. ¡°So, round¡­ nine? A tiebreaker? Or do you need a second?¡± Anesh¡¯s boyfriend playfully held out a hand and offered him a towel for his face that hadn¡¯t existed a second before. Taking a deep breath, trying to will his Breath stores to replenish fast enough, Anesh ignored the ¡®gift¡¯ and nodded, pulling the mask back on. ¡°Next time we¡¯re not telling the rest of me about doing this.¡± He muttered. ¡°Being critiqued by other people is bad enough. Also it¡¯s not fair that they¡¯re having fun when I¡¯m doing all the work.¡± He considered for a second that if James were good enough, he could maybe fight multiple Anesh at once. And then Anesh could threaten his duplicates with participation. Which would be hilarious, as long as he was the Anesh doing the threatening. Clearly the only way forward was to keep pushing James to do better, because that sounded fun. _____ That night, after a day that was as busy and hectic as James expected every day of his life was going to be for a while, he capped things off not with a crisis but by having dinner with people he liked. Arrush and Keeka specifically. Because his other friends and lovers and resident navigator were all scattered to the winds working on their own things or just sleeping in. Not that James minded at all; the two were his favorite ratroaches, and as soon as he had that thought he started wondering if that was maybe a completely incorrect way to think about people. But he still really liked them. He met them at their apartment in the Lair¡¯s basement, and made use of their kitchen to put something simple together. Just a basic meal of pan fried chicken and roast potatoes, something that he would have certainly fucked up in six unique ways a few years ago, but was easy for him now. And not just because of yellow orbs and skill ranks; practice mattered. Learning mattered. And James had come to love the process of getting better at things. Arrush stood at his side, the repaired ratroach looming over him as James happily shared advice on cooking. And James felt a warmth as he showed Arrush how to cut vegetables; holding his own hand over Arrush¡¯s inhuman paw, the two of them working to find the modified grip that worked best for him for the purposes of dicing an onion. In the living room, Keeka lounged on the long couch that wouldn¡¯t be picking up any more corrosion scars now. Angular chitinous head leaning over the edge as he watched his boyfriend and James from an upside down position, seeing Arrush slowly untense bit by bit as repeated interactions reminded him that no one thought his body was wrong. Keeka loved Arrush, in a way that wasn¡¯t hard to explain. Arrush had been his entire world for so long, that Keeka didn¡¯t know if he could ever give him up, even if he wanted to. But he couldn¡¯t conceive of a reason for wanting to anyway. He¡¯d killed for his partner, and would do so again without hesitation, even if he had made himself weaker on purpose to adapt to a softer world. Watching his boyfriend with James was interesting. Keeka felt a different kind of love for the human; one that was slower and less fierce, but no less real. It had been suggested that he might be jealous, but he didn¡¯t think that was it. He still wanted to belong to James the way he did with Arrush, but he didn¡¯t feel like an outsider watching them move and talk together. Instead, he felt like he was watching something wonderful that he was lucky to witness at all. When Arrush smiled, and it clearly didn¡¯t hurt him, Keeka thought it was all worth it. When his boyfriend brought the plates he helped James prepare over to the coffee table - Keeka didn¡¯t know why humans called it that, they used it for food not coffee - and set all three of them down with one just for him that had more of what he specifically liked, he knew it was worth it. Arrush moved with an overflowing pride; not quite strutting but also clearly happy to have helped with the process. ¡±We made you dinner.¡± He told Keeka with his soft, newly musical voice. Trailing behind him, James arrived with a trio of mugs. Normally a human would have trouble with carrying three things at once, especially the glazed and fired cups Keeka had made in the Order¡¯s growing pottery class. He¡¯d put inexpert art of ratroaches holding hands on them, and felt a strange kind of embarrassed that James had picked those out of the cabinet. ¡°Arrush made you dinner! I just helped.¡± He said, using two normal limbs and one made out of ice to set the drinks down. ¡±He lies worse than he cooks.¡± Arrush said playfully, enjoying his ability to actually put tiny inflictions on his words without stressing about it. ¡°Look! Chicken!¡± The chicken was a little messed up, but as soon as they started eating, Keeka found that he¡¯d been hungrier than he¡¯d realized, and the flavor didn¡¯t care how badly it was cut. James settled in cross legged on their apartment floor while letting Arrush sink into the beanbag that had been flipped over so the worse corrosion damage was hidden. ¡°Thank you!¡± He exclaimed happily as he held his plate steady with his lower arms as his upper hands rapidly helped him scarf down dinner. ¡±See?¡± James told Arrush with a smile and a hand wave. ¡°That¡¯s why cooking is fun.¡± ¡±¡­also there is food at the end.¡± Arrush tensed, holding in a sigh for just a second before he let it out carefully. ¡°Thank you.¡± He murmured. ¡±Bah. You don¡¯t need to thank me, I actually do think this kind of thing is fun.¡± James stretched, trying to banish the stiffness in his back as he started in on his own food. He¡¯d completely missed why Arrush was thanking him, but the two ratroaches shared a short glance and a twitch of their antenna that indicated that yes, Keeka got it. It wasn¡¯t a thank you for cooking, or even for spending time together. It was a thank you for making Arrush feel normal. Something far more valuable than mustard chicken. Something so new it hurt sometimes. Keeka rubbed at his throat as swallowing brought up a phantom pain from his recent injury. He¡¯d healed. Mostly. But it was still something he liked a distraction from. Things tasted so much better now that food wasn¡¯t flavored with his own pain and bile, and he didn¡¯t really feel like relearning what it used to be like. ¡°What did¡­ what did you do today?¡± He ventured asking James, hoping that he could prompt a conversation that would pull his thoughts away from his own body. ¡±Lots of things! But also not that much.¡± James declared with a level of energy that seemed out of place on someone who¡¯d fought against a mortal foe less than a week ago. ¡°Mostly admin stuff, I guess. Hung out with Anesh and Alanna a little, did a tiny bit of magic. I think my idea for what a busy day is has skewed a lot lately. It used to be I got tired if I had to go to work and go to an appointment. These days¡­ today has felt relaxing. I did work all day, and I feel relaxed.¡± James sighed. Arrush tipped his muzzle up, the asymmetrical chitin bands on it seeming to shift color slightly as they got more light. ¡°Should I go back to work?¡± He mused. ¡°I might be less tired now. And I feel¡­ better.¡± ¡±Shit.¡± James muttered. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I feel like I¡¯m complaining about an eight hour shift to the wrong people.¡± Keeka just laughed at him. ¡°You¡¯re hard to understand!¡± He chittered at James. ¡°But I don¡¯t mind. I like it when you talk.¡± Arrush nodded in agreement. ¡°And it¡¯s nice to hear about things happening. Especially when they are things your boyfriend did!¡± ¡°¡­my boyfriend?¡± James asked slowly. ¡°Who is also your boyfriend? Or your boyfriend, who is also my boyfriend?¡± He pointed at Arrush. There was a moment of Arrush slowly opening his muzzle to mouth words, staring at the short coffee table and his mostly empty plate. ¡°I think I have made a decision.¡± He said, getting both James and Keeka to look at him expectantly. ¡°We need to¡­ invent new words. Can we do that? Is that allowed?¡± James laughed. ¡°Probably!¡± He told the tan furred ratroach. ¡°This is kind of a known issue, but our specific situation is so rare¡­¡± ¡±For now!¡± Keeka reminded him. ¡°Your habits are spreading.¡± ¡±First off, Arrush and Anesh aren¡¯t habits.¡± James pointed out. ¡°Though I could get them nun outfits, that would be funny.¡± He didn¡¯t let his brain go too deep down that particular well. ¡°But also what do you mean?¡± Keeka leaned back into the padding of the couch, two hands holding the mug he was sipping cider through a straw out of as he shrugged with his other arms. ¡°There are more people in the Order who¡­ do what you do? What we do. Humans don¡¯t normally romance more than one person, do they? But they do here. So it¡¯s probably your fault!¡± He concluded with a long toothy smile along his muzzle. It was true, James admitted to himself, that the Order of Endless Rooms was a statistical outlier in terms of how many weird relationships it contained. He didn¡¯t know if they were to the point of needing bespoke words for odd poly configurations. ¡°Maybe.¡± He said out loud, deflecting. ¡°Anyway which boyfriend did you mean?¡± ¡±Arrush!¡± Keeka pointed an accusatory claw at the other ratroach who tensed up, eyes twitching to every corner of the room at the sudden attention. ¡°You took him to the Oklahoma for another dangerous thing! It wasn¡¯t supposed to be dangerous! Just a normal safe thing!¡± ¡±Keeka thinks I should stop doing dangerous things.¡± Arrush said quietly. ¡±I do not!¡± Keeka protested with an odd form of a squeaking pout. ¡°I¡­ just think I should also be there.¡± ¡±I¡­ yeah I understand that.¡± James sighed and twirled a piece of asparagus on his plate with his fork, not feeling like eating while having this conversation. ¡°I feel the same way sometimes with things Alanna does. And I know they feel the same about me.¡± From the look Keeka gave him, it seemed that Alanna and Anesh weren¡¯t the only ones who felt that way. ¡°But our lives are dangerous sometimes. Also you know why Arrush went and you didn¡¯t, and it worked out okay.¡± He paused, and then added one more thing. ¡°Also it¡¯s just Oklahoma. There¡¯s no ¡®the¡¯. I know a lot of stuff in our lives feels like it should have a definite article, but most US states don¡¯t.¡± ¡°The Oklahoma part isn¡¯t important.¡± Arrush said before making a quick set of clicks in his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t think so at least. But we did meet someone nice.¡± He said with a distant happiness in his voice. ¡°She would like you.¡± He told Keeka. ¡±Ah. Yeah.¡± James took a breath and tried to keep himself objective. Which was hard. He¡¯d already started the process of requesting as many copies as possible of red orbs that gave emotional resonance in kindness and related emotions, because while Kiki seemed and probably was an incredibly nice person¡­ it was really hard to stay objective. And he already recognized that in himself. ¡°Once we know more I bet she¡¯d love to meet you.¡± Keeka set his cup down and sprawled out on the couch, stretching like a cat as he consumed as much space as possible, tails flicking behind him. James grinned coyly at Arrush as he saw his newest boyfriend openly ogling his long term partner, getting a blush from the larger ratroach before Keeka spoke again. ¡°Is she a prisoner?¡± He asked. ¡°Or¡­ like us? Quarantine?¡± He said the last word with the kind of odd infliction that meant he hadn¡¯t really used or heard it a lot. ¡±Well,¡± James said with a shrug, ¡°Research went and got an isolated cabin up in the mountains relatively near here for her and anyone trying to help her to stay at, so it¡¯s somewhat isolated. With you guys, when you showed up, we knew how to stop the spread of infections and spores, you know? Airtight seals and filters, careful observation, that kind of thing. Kiki isn¡¯t sick though, she¡¯s¡­ I mean, she¡¯s magic. It¡¯s actually kind of insane. Keeka, have you ever seen a pillar? They¡¯re terrifying. They are instantly recognizable as something absurdly powerful. But Kiki¡¯s just this old lady who has a cool friend group and makes people kinder.¡± He sighed. ¡±That wasn¡¯t really an answer.¡± Keeka said, voice starting to strain as his throat scar ached. James bit his lip, shifting his legs under himself and deciding to just give up and flop on the side of the beanbag Arrush was sitting in. ¡°Neither.¡± He answered the question as he looked up at the underside of Arrush¡¯s muzzle, noting that the ratroach was twisting like he was trying not to stare down at James, and that there were bright green highlights on the visible parts of his hide where the fur and chitin stopped. He¡¯d never really seen Arrush from this specific angle before. ¡°She¡¯s got some things to manage in her personal life, then in a few days she¡¯ll be spending a week or so with us, to see if we can find a solution. Hopefully we can also convince her that suicide is a bad idea.¡± ¡±You said she was powerful?¡± Keeka asked, and James and Arrush both stopped failing to flirt with each other to nod silently. ¡°Could she fix your eye? She helped Alex.¡± ¡±I did ask, actually.¡± James said. ¡°She said she could do it, but it would ¡®change me¡¯, so she didn¡¯t want to.¡± Arrush linked his offset hands onto whichever joints were within reach. ¡±That¡¯s the point.¡± He said with a surprising amount of heat in his voice. ¡°She¡¯s being¡­ afraid. She¡¯s afraid of hurting you, so she won¡¯t help you.¡± ¡±That¡¯s also what I said!¡± James said, reaching his hands over his head to wrap around Arrush¡¯s torso, feeling him tense before leaning into the touch. ¡°I kind of actually want to be changed! Changed into someone with depth perception! But it¡¯s fine, I¡¯ve got shaper substance surgery tomorrow, and after that, delves! Hey who wants to go dungeon diving with me?¡± Arrush raised his hand instantly, which got a giggle out of Keeka. His boyfriend was actually adorable. And the way James looked at him with clear compassion and desire was great. He wished James would look at him that way sometimes, but it wasn¡¯t actually a big deal, because it made him feel an inner warmth just to know that the human recognized how great Arrush was. The apartment was warm and comfortable, the food was filling and tasty, the people he was with were kind and wonderful. Really, Keeka thought to himself, the only thing that wasn¡¯t perfect about this moment was that Arrush and James weren¡¯t in the process of kissing. And now they were both staring at him. Which was when he realized that he had part of his thoughts out loud. Part of him was terrified that he was slipping. Turning into someone who was so careless as to make noise without intention. But the rest of him, the part that had embraced this new life, decided to double down. ¡°Y-yes!¡± He stammered with embarrassed determination. ¡°You should kiss! Arrush wants to and I know you haven¡¯t!¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, I didn¡¯t want to pressure anyone.¡± James said, craning his neck and looking up at Arrush again. His ratroach boyfriend blushed again, staring up at the ceiling. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t want to¡­ it would have hurt you, and you were¡­ it¡­ isn¡¯t import-¡° James understood. Maybe not the part about having saliva that was corrosive enough to melt skin, but the rest of it, certainly. He understood way too well how it felt to think that sharing what you wanted was just causing problems, or to believe that your own desires were unimportant. And also he knew how hard it was to be vulnerable, and he also knew that vulnerability would be amplified a hundredfold for someone who had lived through the kind of trauma Arrush had. And in that moment, he felt a strange kind of confidence. That he knew, without a bit of doubt, that showing vulnerability would be rewarded. Specifically, rewarded with kisses. Arrush was still trying to get out an explanation and stumbling over his own words, his voice repaired and healthy but his emotions as turbulent as ever, when James reached up and placed a hand on his neck. He trailed off, looking down at the owner of the hand and the person that he felt a growing attachment to as James shifted against the beanbag they were both resting on. And then his blush went from glowing to practically radioactive as he felt James¡¯ other hand settle on the other side of his folded legs, and the press of lips against the fur on his exposed neck as his boyfriend got closer. Arrush¡¯s intake of breath came with a trembling squeak of sound, before the hand that was settled on him guided his face down and another kiss landed on the side of his muzzle. And then he was gently pulled into staring into James¡¯ eye; the way their lives had gone leading to the disparity in the number of eyeballs between them having risen over the last week. James smiled at him, his own cheeks showing the human version of the green glow around Arrush¡¯s eyes, and Arrush stopped worrying so much. When James leaned forward the last couple inches, Arrush did too, and met the human¡¯s lips with the end of his triangular muzzle. Bodies not built nor modified to be compatible, but both of them happy to find a workaround for this particular gesture of love. ¡±Perfect!¡± Keeka announced as they pulled apart and took long breaths, the slender ratroach watching them from the couch with a wide glowing grin on his muzzle. ¡±Uh¡­ would you like to go on a dungeon delve with me and call it a date?¡± James asked sheepishly, suddenly aware of just how close he was to Arrush. ¡±Yes.¡± Arrush answered instantly. Keeka chittered at them. ¡°Less perfect!¡± He scolded the two, but quieted down as they kissed again. For all the different kinds of magic the Order was collecting, there was something uniquely special and irreplaceable to him about watching his boyfriend be romantic from the outside. Now he just had to figure out how to get the two to agree to only go on a relatively safe delve. Maybe he could bribe them with chocolate. That worked surprisingly well with a lot of the new camracondas, at least. Chapter 307 ¡°I get to fire a laser.¡± -Hardison, Leverage- _____ Tomorrow, James planned to make breakfast for Anesh and Alanna - and probably anyone else in his apartment - before heading off to Alaska to ¡®check in¡¯ with JP. Checking in here was code for James didn¡¯t know what the hell the rogues were doing, and he felt like there was a little too much confusion and chaos in that department right now, what with Nate, Ben, and JP all seeming to be in charge but none of them being able to tell him what the others were doing. So James was going to get a handle on what was going on with their investigation into Priority Earth. See if they were doing anything that would require his help soon, take an in person look at the information and territory, possibly get into some trouble himself, and then begin to make a plan on how to resolve the whole thing in a way that didn¡¯t end with gunfire. A few days after that, Kiki was supposed to show up. The non-pillar, who would hopefully only be living up to her name in the metaphorical way, had said she needed to ¡®take care of a few last things¡¯. She said it that way because she thought the Order would absolutely agree to kill her once they failed to help her, and James felt like he deserved an acting award for not rolling his eyes at her. Once she arrived at the isolated spot they¡¯d set up, James would be one of a handful of people going to help learn about her magic, try to brainstorm ways to contain it, and help the woman live out her life without worrying about collateral damage. That wasn¡¯t the only stuff going on in the Order, or even in James¡¯ own life. Charlie had checked in and said that they were pretty sure they were ¡®closing in on¡¯ the Underburbs, there were about two dozen Utah spells to test out and learn the boundaries of, not to mention the other dungeon that they were going to slip into through an unguarded entrance as soon as they knew the Mormons weren¡¯t tracking them. The chanters suddenly grown population meant that Townton needed to expand a bit, and they needed to hire or make more specialists to study a whole new species¡¯ life cycle. And speaking of new species, it was bizarre that the crocamaws sudden addition to the Order¡¯s protection was the least disruptive thing happening so far. They were a little terrifying at first, they were certainly prone to violent outbursts, they had all been weaponized and abused by people who didn¡¯t treat them like they had rights, and they were basically just ratroaches but with more scales and 50% of their body being teeth or support for the teeth. And the Order knew how to handle ratroaches. Carefully, and compassionately. It was actually very simple, even if it wasn¡¯t always easy. So much stuff on James plate. And he was going to spend most of his day on dungeon delves, which maybe, might, possibly be, just a tiny bit irresponsible. But hey, if he was going to be paladining his way through all the other stuff, he¡¯d need every magical boost he could get. That was later though. All of it was later this week, really. But the delves were later today. Because right now, way too early in the morning and grimly uncaffeinated for medical reasons, James was just trying to distract his racing thoughts as he existed in a state of heightened panic. Not from an external threat or any inner turmoil, but instead, because he was laying in the basin of a shaper substance surgery bed, and waiting for the few minutes before he was going to have near-total control of his own biology. And that was terrifying. ¡±You¡¯ll be fine.¡± Zhu¡¯s voice tried to calm him down, the navigator capable of feeling a kind of duel-impact of James hammering heart in the physical world and his pulsing anxiety in the mental realm. ¡°You did all that research, you know the things, and it¡¯s just an eye, right? It¡¯s so fine you get to skip quarantine and we get to go on an adventure today if you don¡¯t kill us both!¡± He sounded way too casual about the risk of death, in James¡¯ opinion. Personally, Jamse wanted to just let Deb take over his brain and do the whole thing. But despite her current one hundred percent success rate, she was hesitant to make that the standard for shaper patients. So even though it was probably safer and easier to have her run the show, James was fine doing it himself just because he¡¯d rather be nervous on his own than make the doctor in charge of his whole physical form uncomfortable. ¡±Right. Right.¡± James swallowed dryly as he replied anyway. He did know the material; to the point that he was up to almost twenty three hundred points in his biology lesson from the information he¡¯d devoured. He knew in a lot of detail what he was doing, he had practical advice from Keeka and Arrush on how to actually push the shaper substance into doing what he wanted, and unlike the ratroach all-at-once style, he was just¡­ putting a tiny bit of himself back together. ¡°I¡¯ve got this. It¡¯ll be fine. Yeah.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure if the painkillers were making him talky. That would be bad; they weren¡¯t supposed to mess with his mental state. Zhu rolled his own central eye as James let his anxiety escape any hope of containment. The two of them were saved from their different forms of stress as Deb came in, asked if he was ready, got a complete lie, and then started the process anyway. Suddenly capable of actually doing something instead of panicking helplessly, James felt a lot better. Even as the shaper substance took hold around his broken eye, and the pain started, he found it easier to cope with than the waiting. The sensation was fascinating, too. For one thing, it felt minty, which he¡¯d been warned about, but wasn¡¯t prepared for. It didn¡¯t taste like anything, and actually smelled horrible even through the oxygen mask he¡¯d been provided as a backup. It just happens to feel like mint ice cream, except inside his flesh and blood and bone. And it also felt like his body was suddenly a soft gel, waiting for the slightest touch of his thoughts to shift itself; though the sensation was focused and strongest where the shaper substance had been applied. James didn¡¯t have much time to appreciate how cool that was. Because he felt like screaming. The feeling both of mint and boundless bodily freedom came part and parcel with the feeling of his body trying to rip itself apart. He¡¯d been shot before, stabbed, bitten, thrown through furniture, all that good stuff. This pain wasn¡¯t new, it was just persistent and almost overwhelming. But the painkillers and the help from Zhu let him manage it. And he composed his thoughts, took a breath of purified air, and told his body what to do. It was also something that was simple but not easy. All he actually needed was a new eye. But what that meant, if he wanted it done without permanent chronic pain, was that he had to understand how an organ largely made out of organic gel and a weird membrane managed to be a high fidelity camera that fed a picture of the world around him back into his brain without complaint or complication. And on top of that, he wasn¡¯t even making a human eye. And yet. It was so easy, when he did actually know the answers he¡¯d studied. Like the feeling of acing a test, the process came out in a flow of correct actions. Aqueous humor pooled up, his cheekbone shifted to accommodate the new shape, the optic nerve grew and clipped into the rest of his body like it was meant to be there all along, and every bit of information James had about how an eagle¡¯s eye functioned came together in the slitted pupil. The red totem nearby suddenly letting him know that he had another working organ, and giving him a bit of guidance to adjust it to move at the same speed as his more human eye on the other side without ruining all his hard work. Then he was done. The fact that James was now staring at the ceiling with both working eyes had kind of snuck up on him, but the fact that he had to force his new one to stay open as Deb and her assistants sprayed water into it forcefully enough to scour the shaper sludge out was sadly not something he could ignore the same way. But after long seconds of discomfort and pressure, he was allowed to sit up and help with toweling himself off, and look, actually look, around the room. Everything was sharper; like when his remaining human eye had suddenly not needed a contact lens anymore, except turned up to eleven. The edges of everything were so cleanly defined that James felt like he was looking at an expertly drawn version of the world for a second. That feeling was expanded upon with the color; it was all the same as he was used to, it was just more. More shades, more detail and depth. Things he always could have probably figured out if he¡¯d examined things closely but now, he just didn¡¯t have to. It was all right there, waiting for him to look. ¡±Zhu. Take a look.¡± James whispered, staring at the oil painting of a pastoral farm on the wall of the surgery room and opening himself up fully to the navigator. A mental invitation for Zhu to look through him, not just with his own manifestation. The soft twitching of Zhu¡¯s feathers stilled as the navigator took in James¡¯ perception, feeding off their bond and his place in James¡¯ mind. Outside, his manifestation¡¯s own eye shifted happily. ¡°This is¡­ very cool.¡± He told his friend. ¡°You¡¯re whole again.¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± James breathed out and turned a grateful smile on Deb and her medical staff. ¡°I am.¡± He shifted himself forward, bare feet dropping to the cold tile floor of the room. Then he grinned. ¡°Wanna go do some mortal peril?¡± He asked Zhu excitedly. ¡±Yes!¡± The navigator exclaimed. ¡±No!¡± Deb tried to protest. But it was too late; James had already escaped her clutches. Off to show the Anesh waiting for him his newest addition, off to feed the ravenous hunger the shaper substance always left behind, and off to collect his other boyfriend to have some fun. Fun in his own particular way of having fun; by going into other worlds, and poking things that were almost certainly magical, dangerous, or usually both at once. _____ Entering the house underneath Clutter Ascent these days was surprisingly personal, in the same way that James had previously gotten to know employees at his favorite restaurants. The humans, camracondas, and single ratroach who had taken to living in the house weren¡¯t actually active within the Order; but someone should live in the house so it didn¡¯t go to waste, and they all said that it felt safe. Cozy. James thought a lot of that was on them, not the dungeon itself, but he didn¡¯t really say that ever. Instead, he greeted and exchanged small talk with the human man who answered the door, who was smugly understanding of James¡¯ desire to waste no time getting into the Ascent. He and Arrush got an enthusiastic ambush from Sarah when they stepped into the dungeon¡¯s landing. Along with a ¡°Hey you two!¡± Before she started trying to pry James¡¯ eyelid back to stare at his new pale gold left eye. ¡°You¡¯re part bird! You did it! Good job, I knew you could handle it.¡± She said, as she somehow shrugged off both James and Zhu trying to deflect her, and launched into another tight hug around James¡¯ midsection. ¡°Also hi Arrush! What¡¯re you two here for today? Some kind of dire crisis again?¡± ¡±It¡¯s not always¡­¡± James stopped himself, looking down at the scuffed and lightly splintered wooden beams of the floor. ¡°Okay, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s sometimes a crisis. But not today, I promise!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know why we¡¯re here either.¡± Arrush volunteered, capping his words with a yawn. He had almost overslept; the idea of schedules was still something he was getting used to, and Planner wasn¡¯t in his thoughts. Probably. ¡°Hello.¡± He almost stumbled as Sarah took both their hands and started leading them into the dungeon, her laugh infecting Arrush like it always did with the feeling that he was completely and totally welcome in a place. Sarah was not a dungeon creature. And yet, sometimes, neither Arrush nor James could deny that she had her own kind of magic. ¡°We¡¯re just stopping in for a bit.¡± James laughed as he was pulled along through the aisle of plastic bins and dusty old furniture. As with many dungeons, Clutter Ascent seemed to know how it wanted itself to be, and while the Order had succeeded in eventually clearing some areas of rusty old tools and the worse of the splinters, the Attic would always reassert its labyrinth of falsely stored memories. ¡°Zhu wants to visit the swamp-¡° ¡±Oy, you do too, don¡¯t make this my fault!¡± The navigator argued. ¡±Oh Keeka talked about the swamp. Okay, I know why we are here now, I want to see the swamp too.¡± Arrush nodded even as he was pulled along, antenna freely swaying on his mostly smooth head. James rolled his eyes at them as they were brought through the outer shell of the Attic¡¯s mazes, to the Order¡¯s more permanent base here. It just happened to be something that looked like a towering pillow fort; grown from the days when it was a literal pillow fort, now something reinforced by dungeon construction. It was more fabric and stuffing than could fit in the space, and true to Clutter Ascent¡¯s inner nature, it had its own attic inside, but it wasn¡¯t some grand statement or imposing structure. It was just a pleasant place where visitors hung out and relaxed, read stories to the dungeon and the stuff animals, and to generally just commune with the vibe of the dungeon. It was a good place to nap, though James only put it in the top five for spots in Clutter Ascent to get a nap in. The dungeon was really good at making those. As soon as they entered, there was a burst of motion from a half dozen knee-high figures as they scattered to behind tables and shelves, hiding underneath tented blankets and walls of couch cushions that had never once been on a couch. Glinting eyes peeking out from around corners and under sheets, the flat snouts of created little creatures that were an odd blend of raccoon, salamander, and sometimes with a little bit of some other animal that the dungeon had seen once in its original mundane attic blended in. ¡±That¡¯s an odd reaction.¡± James laughed as he followed the trail of one of the slower stuff animals. ¡°Also where is everyone today?¡± ¡±Well, James, it¡¯s seven AM, and so most of them aren¡¯t here. The caretakers that are, are probably downstairs prepping breakfast.¡± Sarah glanced back, and her smile faded a little. ¡°Sorry, I think¡­ we don¡¯t get a lot of ratroaches here.¡± She told Arrush. ¡°It¡¯s fine, they¡¯ll-¡° Arrush nodded. ¡±No, I understand. I am large and scary.¡± He said, without any negative expectations in his voice. ¡°Keeka told me about how to manage this.¡± One of Arrush¡¯s rear arms fished around in a pouch as he stepped forward, and then without any preamble, fell forward in a single unrestrained motion to land on one of the piles of pillows surrounding a central beanbag. ¡°Oh!¡± He said loudly, pushing his voice farther than he ever had before. ¡°I am weighed down by this bag of almonds! It is too bad no one is here to help me.¡± James and Sarah both choked on laughs as Arrush sat there with one arm raised and a plastic bag in his claw. Staring at his boyfriend laying facedown and giving the least convincing delivery of a speech he¡¯d ever heard, James couldn¡¯t keep his laughter back as about half the stuff animals instantly reacted to the promise of something to snack on and bolted over only to find Arrush smoothly sitting up and offering them treats he¡¯d brought from the Lair. ¡±Wait, don¡¯t ruin their breakfast!¡± Sarah gasped out between her own bright laugh. ¡±Actual genius.¡± James said as he caught his breath. ¡°I should learn from this.¡± Sarah nodded, before taking a long breath, and jutting her head to the side, nose pointing James off away from where Arrush was introducing himself to the young dungeon life. ¡°Hey.¡± She muttered to him as they stepped away for a second and James waved Arrush down to not worry. ¡°A quick thing about that.¡± ¡±About James learning? Oh dear, it¡¯s worse than I thought.¡± Zhu stared his manifested orange eye into the middle distance as his host swatted at him. James actually wasn¡¯t amused. ¡°Hey, Sarah has her serious tone on, and that means hush.¡± He said. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡±Arrush making friends with them.¡± Sarah said in a low voice. A voice James had literally never heard her use before, like she was trying to keep a secret, and not as a joke. He almost asked her if she was okay before she continued. ¡°Ascent is still growing, you know? The relationsticks are changing over time, new ones do slightly different stuff. And there¡¯s layers to the magic. Like, we found another thing like the book, but it¡¯s not a book this time; it looks like it, but it¡¯s a plush cat. And it doesn¡¯t work exactly the same, but¡­ you get what I mean, right?¡± ¡±¡­nnnnno.¡± James said. ¡°I mean, I understand the mechanics of a category of magic items, but not¡­ what you¡¯re going for here.¡± ¡±There¡¯s another layer. To this dungeon.¡± Sarah said, still keeping her voice down and shooting a barrage of incredibly suspicious glances to make sure Arrush wasn¡¯t listening in. Zhu started to raise his talon. ¡°Is it dangerous? Should we be stopping Arrush? Or standing here? Or¡­ doing something?¡± He asked, uncertain what should be done but fundamentally in favor of taking some action. For his part, James just wanted a straight answer. ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s up? Actually?¡± He asked directly. ¡°I promise to keep it quiet if you need me to.¡± ¡±I do. That¡¯s the problem.¡± Sarah took a deep breath. ¡°The stuff animals¡­ actually maybe all the life here¡­ it has a reward.¡± ¡±Shit. A loot drop?¡± That was bad, but not the end of the world. Camracondas had loot drops after all, and the thought of killing any of them outside the dungeon¡¯s hostile control just for their orbs was unthinkable. ¡°We can-¡° Sarah shook her head. ¡±Worse.¡± That seemed impossible, but James and Zhu listened sharply. ¡°So far, we¡¯ve only found one kind, and it¡¯s sort of like a pretty weak regenerating shield. And¡­ well, heck. You get it for being their friend.¡± She almost whispered, trusting James¡¯ enhanced hearing to pick it up. ¡±Why is that-¡° Zhu started to say. James cut him off by swearing. Quietly, so as not to be too bad of an influence. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s bad.¡± He said, instantly seeing the problem Sarah was clearly acquainted with. ¡°Zhu, it¡¯s bad because it¡¯s a perverse incentive. If being their friend has an external reward, then¡­ you know how Ben is, right?¡± ¡±Ah.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers flattened out along his whole long manifestation. Then he swore too. ¡°They would never be able to trust anyone. Or really have friends. I see. Should you even be telling us?¡± ¡±Yes. Because James doesn¡¯t care.¡± Sarah¡¯s smile was small but genuine. ¡°You live in his brain. Do you think he gives a hoot about a stat buff from friendship?¡± ¡±¡­no.¡± Zhu admitted. ¡°I think we both know he¡¯d go out of his way to be friendlier just so he could ignore it if that were the case. In fact, I think he is thinking that now.¡± James extended the arm Zhu was mostly on away from himself. ¡°Stop reading my mind when it¡¯s funny.¡± He said without any kind of seriousness. ¡°But yeah, this is¡­ does it give a notification? That would be real bad.¡± ¡±Oh, no!¡± Sarah sighed and held a hand to her chest. ¡°Thankfully! But I don¡¯t know what to do with this. I don¡¯t know who to tell, or if I should tell everyone who knows to not tell anyone, or¡­¡± she windmilled her arms, drowning in confusion. James tried a couple times to set a hand on her shoulder, before giving up after his friend¡¯s flailing limbs kept him at bay. ¡°Okay. Look. This is¡­ this is never going to stay secret, okay? So I think what you should do is tell the people who it affects most.¡± He looked back to where Arrush was standing in a low crouch as a pair of stuff animals scaled his back, helped along by his extra arms. ¡°Them.¡± He said. ¡°I know a lot of them - most of them - are basically young kids. I know we don¡¯t know if they¡¯ll ever mature past that. But I think they¡¯re smart enough to at least hear the explanation. And even if they aren¡¯t, they should know now, so they can grow up knowing. Other people are gonna find out, and it cannot be one sided.¡± ¡±Agreed.¡± Sarah slumped back, leaning on a bookshelf that had taken on a few hundred pounds of paperback young adult fantasy novels over the last year of its existence. ¡°And¡­ thanks. For listening. Thanks for being you.¡± ¡±Eh, anytime. Technically all the time. Being me is kind of my full time job.¡± James smiled and shrugged. Sarah tapped him on the nose with an extended finger. ¡±You could stop whenever. But you don¡¯t. And let me tell you!¡± She let her voice come back to a normal volume. ¡°Dating your girlfriend? Your endless forward momentum is a hard act to follow! Take a few days off, James! Make it easier for me to convince Alanna to just take a day off to eat brunch and watch Star Trek with me!¡± She bumped her shoulder into his as they made their way over to where Arrush was now acting as a troop carrier for all six stuff animals. ¡°Alright you two, get out of here, I¡¯ve held you up long enough. And you kids, come on! Let¡¯s go get breakfast!¡± Sarah caught one of the more squirrel-like creations as they leapt off of Arrush, the ratroach staggering only slightly while the others clambered down his limbs and fled after Sarah, one of them turning back to wave at him with a furred arm before fleeing. ¡±How you doing?¡± James asked. ¡±I don¡¯t know.¡± Arrush said, though he was wearing a small smile. ¡°Good? I feel weird, but not bad. Like maybe being alive like this, now, is a very weird thing to do.¡± ¡±Oh, mood.¡± James nodded and ignored Zhu¡¯s amused revving sound. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go check out the dungeon before we need to get to our next stop today.¡± So they started walking. Heading in the right direction, passing through hallways and clearings in the too-large space of dusty old dressers and stacked cardboard boxes. Clutter Ascent was pretty unique among dungeons in that it wasn¡¯t actually very dangerous at all, and so they were free to move a little faster than normal. They weren¡¯t here to poke the specially locked containers, solving puzzles and collecting relationsticks. They also weren¡¯t here to play sneaking games with the stuff animals, most of them being downstairs at home in the mundane world and having a prepared breakfast. Instead, they were here for two things, and both of them were favors that involved the swamp. When they emerged from the labyrinth of interlocked chairs and abandoned tool benches, it wasn¡¯t apparent right away that they¡¯d reached where they were going. But when the next step from both of them brought a small splash and the feeling of a slight downward slope, they knew they were where they were going. Pausing at the entrance to look out over the pool of water that was the start of Clutter Ascent¡¯s idea of a swamp, Arrush let his eyes flick over the changed landscape. This dungeon wasn¡¯t that odd to him; places like this, where nothing really made that much sense, were where he had been born and where he had survived most of his life. So a place that had storage boxes of old things that had never been out of storage to begin with wasn¡¯t that odd. And yet, he recognized that to the humans, it was actually quite weird to see the start of Clutter, because it was just¡­ a normal attic. Like how the entrance to Officium Mundi was just normal desks and mostly normal computers. This spot though was where the dungeon started getting creative. And he took a long sniff of the changed smells in the air, reveling in the scent of clean water and floral soaps as they took over the smell of warm dust and old cloth. He followed James in a vanguard position as the two of them started wading around the shallow edge of the water, following the human¡¯s example of rolling up his pant legs so they wouldn¡¯t get wet. A futile gesture, but one that felt companionable somehow. They made some splashes as they continued deeper, through an arch formed by curtain rods and a hanging area rug that had never been used and yet somehow bore years worth of dirt in its fibers. The swamp deepened as they went through it, the furnishings shifting slightly in how they were shaped, becoming more like lopsided rocks that stood in the middle of the deepening water and less like their original forms. Small shadows moved around them in lazy flits just under the water¡¯s surface; clear blobs of creatures with nothing of substance to them at all except for a membrane that held slightly thicker water and the impulse to swim. Keeka had brought one back the last time he was here. An event that had prompted Arrush learning how to look up reliable information and use Wikipedia, because he had a suspicion that turned into solid information that these things were not frogs. Keeka hadn¡¯t then, and probably still didn¡¯t, know what a frog was. Arrush still understood why his partner thought they were cute, but he had put his paw down on the fact that frogs were an entirely separate form of life. The swamp opened up as they climbed a short slope of misshapen wood, the floor of the attic feeling too soft under Arrush¡¯s paws as they walked. But on the other side, instead of the dim gloom they¡¯d been walking through, the water glowed. It wasn¡¯t any deeper, but a pair of high windows that the Attic liked so much let in golden oranges and reds of the false sunset. And where the light hit the water, the water¡­ changed. Or maybe the water was already changed and the light just showed it off. This water wasn¡¯t clear. Instead, the surface of it glistened with oily colors. Reds and oranges and purples, the colors of evening light streaked across its surface in bands, with small streaks between them where the small slime creatures sometimes darted through the substance and mixed it together. It stretched away for hundreds of feet, maybe more. It was hard to tell because line of sight was broken by towering and crooked coat racks that held old garments like cloth versions of willow trees. Old pool toys growing around the edges of the water like reeds and bushes, some of them with what looked like fruit on them. They tried to keep out of the water, but it wasn¡¯t dangerous. It wasn¡¯t even oily, though it looked like it. It would just be a shame to splash through it and ruin the scene. So instead James and Arrush crawled along the tops of shelves and dressers to circle around, noting that the walls of the Attic were closer here on the sides. The dungeon was always expanding, but that didn¡¯t make it infinite, and there were plenty of places where the edges of its domain showed through. Their first goal they found easily enough. Around the iridescent waters of the swamp, taking a right where they had to climb over some exposed pipes and past clear boxes that looked like they held the supplies for a pool party, they found another body of water. But this one wasn¡¯t shallow and stretched out. Instead, it was very close to looking like a hot tub sunk into the firmament of the dungeon. Not quite, not exactly, but if you squinted you could see where there should be vents and water jets. The water inside was hot, because while it might be halfway between hot tub and hot spring, Clutter Ascent had definitely nailed down the temperature part of the equation. The water would also change anyone who was more than about halfway submerged in it. The change was simple and harmless; it made hair green, and that was kind of it. But it was fun, and the Anesh who had fallen into it the first time had kind of decided that it was just a neat little quirk to have. Zhu had asked to come visit, both because it felt like a fun destination and made for a nice simple snack to him, and because he wanted to try something. Specifically, he wanted to know the double answer of if the hot spring worked on infomorphs, and if his manifested feathers counted as hair. After James had dunked most of Zhu¡¯s manifestation in, contorting on the edge of the pool to get his whole arm and tail in, they unfortunately knew that the answer to at least one of those questions was ¡®no¡¯. Once Zhu was mollified that maybe Clutter Ascent would notice his interest and make a pool specifically for navigators, and after James finally decided to ask him why he wanted to be green anyway and got absolutely no answer, the trio went off to complete their other short task here. Capturing one of the asplights was a little trickier than just dunking someone in a pool. The snakes were really uncommon, with maybe only four or five of them even existing right now. But they were also the only living things in the swamp, and Research - specifically Bea - had wanted one as a sample to study, tag, and release back into the dungeon. In theory, ¡®put a snake in a carrier¡¯ was the kind of thing that would be a beginner quest at an adventurer¡¯s guild. In reality, by the time they were done, James, Arrush, and even the mildly hydrophobic Zhu were all dyed in a very soggy fashion with the bright colors of the swamp¡¯s waters. And they¡¯d still be painted until they were dried off thoroughly, with the record of their struggle showing in the rings of ripples and splash points strewn across the swamp¡¯s surface. They¡¯d tried to leave nothing but footprints, and in a way they had. It was also good to know that the snakes, while not particularly smart, were very fast, and very open to the idea of ambushes when pressed. ¡±This was great.¡± Zhu said, and meant it. ¡±This was hilarious, but I need to get new pants before we go on the real delve.¡± James replied. Arrush cocked his head. ¡±This wasn¡¯t a real delve?¡± He had actually been thinking that, but didn¡¯t want to insult the Attic. The more time he spent here, the more he understood Keeka¡¯s love of the place. It was just¡­ it was nice. Actively nice, not just nice in the sense that it was devoid of bad things. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. That did make it feel like it wasn¡¯t delving though. This was more like going on a hike with Kirk or Emily back when he and Keeka had lived in Townton. Not boring exactly, but also not with the chance for action. ¡±Nah,¡± James said with a laugh, ¡°this was a warmup. And so I could start to get used to the new organ.¡± He tapped the side of his head by his brand new eye. ¡°The next one is down in Utah. And then if we¡¯re not dead, the Office later tonight!¡± ¡±¡­don¡¯t you need to sleep?¡± Arrush wasn¡¯t accusing his boyfriend of anything, he didn¡¯t actually know if James needed to sleep. Most humans seemed to sleep a lot, though he supposed he was sleeping more now that he could do so without being murdered if he closed his eyes for too long. James made a dismissive sound. ¡°I do, but¡­ I would rather spend time with you delving. Especially since the Utah one is with other people so it¡¯s less ¡®us¡¯, you know?¡± ¡±I know.¡± Arrush nodded slowly, the old habit of trying to not drool on anything that he might not want melted still there, even if he was getting used to not needing it. ¡°But I don¡¯t mind. Do you want me to give them the snake?¡± ¡±That sounds so weird.¡± Zhu commented drowsily. James patted the navigator with his off hand. ¡°Yeah, please.¡± He told Arrush. ¡°We¡¯re scheduled for noon, so, meet you in the lair after we¡¯ve gotten changed and gotten real armor?¡± The ratroach gave him a quick nod as they approached the entrance to Clutter Ascent. A few goodbyes and a teleport later, they split off with James taking the opportunity to give Arrush a quick kiss before they did so. The new form of affection giving both of them a thrill, even if Arrush was still bright green around his eyes when he dropped off the carrier with the glowing metal snake in it down at Research¡¯s intake desk. Then he stopped being embarrassed, and went to get dressed in something with a protective kevlar layer that he could carry a number of knives in. Because as much as he was looking forward to more adventures with James today, he also didn¡¯t trust Utah at all. Not the dungeon. That part was actually very fun, even if the smell was choking and he wouldn¡¯t have a sword this time. No, it was that they¡¯d have to deal with a Mormon escort this time, and Arrush had heard from some of the other ratroach and camraconda delvers that they were being¡­ rude. So he made sure to attach an extra holster to his armor, around near his back right shoulder where one of his smaller arms could access it easily, that he could load a taser into. Just in case Utah was less friendly than a pack of stuff animals. _____ Pylon Motoric - James had just given up because Alanna¡¯s dumb off the cuff name for the place had infected his brain, he¡¯d heard two other people using it already, and the Mormons just called it Lot which he thought was boring - was a dungeon that did what every other dungeon in his life had done so far. Messed with any attempt at categorization. At first, when it was just the Office, they could assume it was a unique phenomena. Or that all dungeons did what Officium Mundi did. But then there was the Sewer and the Attic really quickly back to back, and all of a sudden, it wasn¡¯t so easy. The Sewer still had creatures with death rewards, the Attic still had consumable pickups that gave innate magic, but the way they both worked was so different that it was hard to figure if dungeons should be classified that way. Then came the Route and the Climb, both of which had two-step magic systems that gave people active spells, and every attempt at trying to figure out how the dungeons fit together got thrown out the window. A full reset on their knowledge. Once the Stacks was in the mix and handing out orbs that looked exactly like the Office¡¯s, James was through being surprised. Or so he¡¯d thought. The Lot - the name was easier to say than the whole thing every time, James understood that boring was sometimes useful - had no loot drops. No items they could find. Just immobile machines in the shape of cars that made weird changes if you could figure them out, and achievements that gave you AP on the way out that would level up your skills. The magic items they¡¯d at least sort of seen like this before, but the rest of it¡­ well, partly it was like the Climb. But in a way that was slippery, and seemed to be purposefully frustrating. James loved it. ¡±You are excited.¡± Arrush told him as they waited for the elevator, the ratroach proud of successfully reading his new boyfriend¡¯s feelings. ¡±Course I am! This place is really cool, and the worst possible outcome is that I level up in breathing again which just makes me better at chain casting Climb spells.¡± James ground his foot against the smooth surface of the mundane Earth parking garage they were in, trying to figure out if he had a rock in it before fixing that would be more dangerous than inconvenient. Arrush gently shoved some Breath across their relationstick link, filling James¡¯ supply with the feeling of light pressure. ¡°I can help with that.¡± He told James with further pride. ¡°Also I like this place. Better breathing was¡­ was¡­ important. Even if it was only for a little bit before everything happened.¡± ¡±Better breathing is good even after changing.¡± Ishah added, the sleekly armored ratroach double checking his belt of shells idly before the elevator opened. Then, over the skulljack connection to James and Frequency-Of-Sunlight, he added something out of earshot of their guests. ¡°Watch the escorts. See how they react when we talk about breathing? They know something we don¡¯t. They think we are stupid.¡± ¡±I see it.¡± James sent back, leaning into Arrush with a gentle tap of their arms to signal that he was having a silent conversation. Then out loud, added, ¡°Sunny, do you get breathing? I feel like I never really confirmed if camracondas breathe.¡± ¡±My dude you know camracondas can drown, we absolutely have to breathe.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight replied with a sarcastic hiss. James tipped his head sideways, leaning it on the part of Arrush¡¯s shoulder that had chitin under the armor and not fur that might get pulled. ¡°Do I? Have I seen¡­ oh! You mean that time we had to fish you out of the bath!¡± On his shoulder, Zhu¡¯s feathers rustled with amusement, the navigator staying quiet as he rested but unable to ignore the conversation. ¡±I was ambushed.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight protested. ¡±Ambushed by a towel.¡± James laughed as she glared at him. ¡°Anyway, do you level breathing too?¡± She bobbed back at them, moving fluidly despite her own heavy armor, armature pack, and the saddlebag she was wearing. ¡°Yeah, yeah, so far. It¡¯s kinda weird, I don¡¯t actually feel any different? But Deb made me measure it and my Breath does come back faster now, so I guess it¡¯s working.¡± ¡±That¡¯s¡­ odd. I feel different, even now.¡± Arrush commented. ¡°What does breathing feel like to you?¡± He asked curiously. ¡±Breathing feels like something?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight seemed confused. Arrush¡¯s muzzle shifted like he was chewing on the words. ¡±Oh.¡± He ended up muttering quietly. The camraconda girl twisted back to look at him, her central lens widening slightly. ¡°Aw, this is one of those things where it¡¯s always hurt for you, isn¡¯t it? And I¡¯m being ungrateful for that? Dammit! I was warned about this!¡± It was true, Arrush had been feeling that. But the instant regret that Sunny showed and the oddly specific way she phrased it cut through the fog of bitter frustration. ¡±¡­by who?¡± Arrush asked. ¡±Deb. Deb warns me about most things. Especially things that don¡¯t need warnings.¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight tried to emulate a shrug with a mechanical arms, and failed, the limbs not actually built for that kind of motion. It was a work in progress. ¡°I love her!¡± Sunny added, almost defiantly. Then the elevator dinged, the tinny sound tinged with the crackle of old electronic components announcing that the dungeon entrance was open, and the party cut their conversation as they were let in by their escorts. James had a brief moment where he wondered if it would be worth it to just abandon their tenuous peace treaty, overpower the handful of people that were clearly here to act as guards and not delvers, and take off for the greener dungeon. But that would just be too much trouble, so he let the other two young Mormon guys that were coming along enter the elevator after them, the two silently fuming at the presence of a majority non-human team, and consoled himself with the knowledge that Lincon and Emma among a few others were gonna be getting navigator help in the next week so they could just point out the otherwise unknown entrances on a map. They had agreed to play by the local¡¯s rules for these dungeon entrances. They had said nothing about finding other ones. The elevator dropped as they hit the button, the mundane sensation of movement giving away absolutely nothing about the strange place they were ¡®descending¡¯ into. James wasn¡¯t even really sure if they fall was real, or if it was a manufactured feeling and they had only really moved through the fabric of reality and not in a more conventional ¡®down¡¯. But either way, when the metallic ding announced their destination, the Order delvers were prepared. As with the last time James was here, their escorts lagged behind as the four delvers fanned out instantly, James and Ishah holding the middle of the formation with firearms and infomorphs ready while Sunny and Arrush took the outer edge to catch anything that wouldn¡¯t need the crack of gunfire. One of the kids following them started to say something about how they were being stupid, when Frequency-Of-Sunlight snapped her head around and stopped a traffic cone with a toothy underside from impacting the side of his head. Calling it out, James and Ishah kept alert for anything coming in from the massive mile-long upward ramp ahead of them while Arrush turned and lunged to efficiently cut through the outer rubber ¡®skin¡¯ of the cone, the orange exterior sliced away to drip black tarry blood onto the concrete before his last strike flung it away as Sunny let it go. It happened in a flash, and by the time he was done, the guy that was supposed to be escorting them had started screaming about Arrush attacking him. Something that was undercut slightly by the ratroach slipping his weapons back into sheaths, and straightening his recently repaired spine to tower over the younger man before saying ¡°Please be careful.¡± And then moving back into his position with the rest of his group. ¡±That¡¯s hilarious.¡± James silently sent to the others. ¡°Arrush needs a skulljack braid so I can tell him how hilarious that was.¡± ¡±I still don¡¯t like them at our backs.¡± Ishah replied. ¡°Frequency-Of-Sunlight, can you¡­¡± ¡¯I¡¯ve got cameras on my back, don¡¯t worry.¡± Sunny reminded them. The group swept the area for anything moving, but the rest of the entrance was clear of anything except for a thin layer of grime from the ever present smog here. Double checking their various filter masks, they moved back to group closer near their escorts while James spoke up. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the deal. We¡¯re here for a short exploration upward, heading for the ¡®roof¡¯ of this place, if one exists. You two are welcome to follow us as far as you want, or just wait here by the entrance. Your call.¡± ¡±It¡¯s probably gonna be fun.¡± Zhu chimed in, his dusty orange light shimmering against the outside of James¡¯ standard Order armor in the dull light of the dungeon. ¡±You¡¯ve only been here twice, isn¡¯t that right?¡± One of the young men asked with obvious confusion. ¡°You know you can only get one achievement at a time, right?¡± ¡±Oh, you haven¡¯t met James.¡± Arrush smiled under his mask. James smiled back at his boyfriend, the motion showing around his eyes as his expression softened with obvious love. ¡°Yeah. We just want to get a feel for the place. We¡¯re also looking for¡­ well, hidden stuff, basically. Also any useful car¡­ transmuter¡­ things. Any life here that¡¯s alive and wants to communicate. And especially just cool stuff that¡¯s fun to see.¡± ¡±That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s childish!¡± The guy accused him. ¡±And that¡¯s depressing. So what¡¯s it gonna be, follow or stay?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked directly. They looked like they wanted to ignore the camraconda, but one of them stomped back to lean against the wall by the elevator, while the other one, a sandy haired kid that looked like he should be studying for a business degree, awkwardly nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll come along.¡± He said. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡± James said, and took point with Arrush next to him, the two of them keeping all their weapons stowed but their senses alert as they started moving side by side. This dungeon was, in a way, like catnip to James specifically. The way that the smooth ramp looked like a perfectly normal parking lot complete with assorted cars on either side, but that it also stretched upward for what seemed like a mile or more. The way the view through the rectangular gap in the concrete to their right showed towering structures of similar construction, spires of concrete with odd patterns on their exteriors, some of them with plant life or metal decorations, but all of them large and imposing amongst the clouds of smog. The way the life forms the dungeon made were bizarre and yet familiar, with the common traffic cone only needing the addition of a jump and a lot of teeth to make it ominous. All of it was just¡­ It was fun. That was it. He thought the dungeon was fun. The Climb was cold and horrid, the Route was basically just driving and James wasn¡¯t actually that into driving these days, the Sewer smelled like everything he didn¡¯t like. But here¡­ it wasn¡¯t perfect, but it felt like an adventure again. The group stayed quiet, as was the standard tactic for delves like this. They¡¯d talk when they rested, keeping voices low, but when they were on the move it was a risk to banter. They could just use the skulljacks and their small network to chat, but Arrush, Zhu, and Moon would be left out. Also it was distracting. Or at least, James thought so. And distractions could be dangerous. Or, that was what he was thinking as he and Arrush silently split around a big platform tow truck that had been left in the very middle of the ramp, carefully checking ahead of the others for traps or ambushes. There was nothing around the truck, or in the few vans and trucks parked on either side of it. As they passed, James noted that it wasn¡¯t even a real tow truck; or at least, its doors weren¡¯t real. They were just a single fused piece of metal, with a groove that left a shadow pretending to be an openable door. ¡±Don¡¯t try to open this.¡± James said, raising his voice just enough for Arrush to hear on the other side. ¡°I think it¡¯s a trap. Or at least it¡¯s something weird.¡± ¡±Good weird?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight asked, then hissed in annoyance. ¡°No, nevermind. Of course not.¡± They passed without incident, continuing to climb. After ten minutes of walking in a straight line with nothing happening, the kid with them was clearly getting uncomfortable. Constantly looking around on edge, always seeming like he was about to say something. Eventually James broke the silence when they passed something odd, just trying to put their escort at ease. ¡°Huh. The walls are different here.¡± He mentioned, looking back over his shoulder for a reaction. Their guide - and James thought that term very loosely - just nodded. Unconcerned with how the structure around them had shifted styles slightly. It wasn¡¯t like the warped terrain deeper in the Office, it was just that it had been mostly right angles and boxy concrete, and now it was more rounded edges. The big ventilation pipe overhead making an odd angled turn so that it blended into the upper part of the wall as just another semicircle of material. Small things like that. The cars were still the same though. As was the quiet. A map would have been nice, but their hosts weren¡¯t sharing theirs except to make sure that the Order didn¡¯t intrude onto the territory where they were building their colony of stasised humans. And while mapping it themselves was a long term goal, it wasn¡¯t really something that a single delve team could do in an afternoon. The Order hadn¡¯t really gotten to start mapping stuff out in here yet. They¡¯d had three expeditions, and those expeditions were guided peeks closely watched by their nervous escorts. As far as their tense diplomatic opposition was concerned, the Order wanted to send some people in to get AP and that was it. They didn¡¯t really understand that exploration was a huge part of what made up the culture of the Order¡¯s knights, or that diplomacy was something they wanted to extend to the dungeon¡¯s residents. And at this point, they¡¯d more or less decided to play along with expectations. And they¡¯d still be playing along even after they established a hidden alternate route in. For now though, they were mostly just here to grab a little more magic, and acquaint themselves with the dungeon. It felt to James like there must be more life here, more weird and wild creatures. More strange magic and dangerous traps. And he wanted to see all of them. Right now though he was just seeing more parking structure. Which was¡­ actually interesting in its own right. Much like his first trips into Officium Mundi, there was a kind of playful spirit to the way the whole place was wrong. No one would build this, this wasn¡¯t a human structure. This sloped upward ramp of smoothed concrete looked, outwardly, like it was made for cars to drive on and park from. But the reality, made clear as they passed by the hundredth grey van, was that it would take a mad architect and a flagrant oversight from whatever planning board gave out permits to let this come to be in the real world. Parking here just wouldn¡¯t work. No one wanted to drive upward a mile just to get to a free space, only to hike back down to make it to the elevator. The traffic cones that kept trying to kill them weren¡¯t great either. The things kept hiding just behind wheels and leaping as soon as people came into view. Predictable, but it slowed progress a bit. They were two miles up, the Order team feeling like they were on a Climb delve and their guest struggling to act like keeping up was easy, when Frequency-Of-Sunlight spoke up. ¡°Hey, new guy. Question.¡± They paused, double checking the area as they stopped to rest on the slanted concrete. James made a mental note to bring goggles next time; the smog coming in from outside was more acrid and thicker here. He sipped some water before offering the bottle to Arrush, waiting for the new guy to respond to Sunny. When the kid didn¡¯t, James sighed into his mask, and flicked a quick silent conversation back and forth with the camraconda before he spoke out loud. ¡°So hey, Sunny.¡± ¡±Yes James?¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight¡¯s digital voice was modulated to sound a little more obviously sarcastic than normal. ¡±I¡¯m thinking that since our new guy clearly can¡¯t hear you, I¡¯ll just sorta let you decide if we kill him and dump the body in here? Like, just say the word whenever you want him ambushed, he won¡¯t notice.¡± The camraconda nodded, her mechanical limbs folded around her body. ¡±Yeah, sounds good. I¡¯m thinking maybe five minutes or so? He can hear you though. You have a plan for that?¡± ¡±Charm and charisma?¡± James said hopefully, and smiled as he got a chittering burst of laughter from Arrush. ¡°I can hear you!¡± Their escort said. Ishah tipped his head backward, flexible neck letting him orient his eyes so he was essentially looking over his shoulder the long way around. ¡°You should act like it.¡± He said, voice tight from the tension; he was getting used to fighting in dungeons, but not fighting people, and arguments like this made him uncomfortable. James sighed again. ¡°Look¡­ uh¡­ you.¡± He hadn¡¯t actually listened if there had been an introduction. ¡±Scott!¡± The kid exclaimed. ¡±Really? Dang, you¡¯re like, the third Scott I¡¯ve met down here. Anyway. Come on. We¡¯re trying to be nice here, and you¡¯re being weird about it. Can you just stop pretending that Sunny doesn¡¯t exist, and answer the question?¡± He stared at the younger man for a minute, trying to seem patient even as his actual patience was running out. He wanted to be exploring a dungeon, not dealing with this. Eventually, though, Scott just nodded dejectedly, and James motioned to Frequency-Of-Sunlight. She perked up. ¡°Oh, right! So, the interior wall has all these gaps in it, right? And we¡¯re not passing turns or anything, this is just a straight line upward. But past the barriers and pylons where the cars are parked, there¡¯s all these little openings. I could probably fit through one. What¡¯s down there?¡± ¡°Oh hey, you¡¯re right.¡± James leaned over to look at the space she¡¯d mentioned. ¡°Yeah, the last time I was in here, our escorts bailed on a fight and ran through those too. Where does that go?¡± Scott shrugged. ¡°Down.¡± He said. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s just the layer below. There isn¡¯t anything hidden in there, it takes you to the center road below us, the one that¡¯s by the elevator. They all do that.¡± James narrowed his eyes because he didn¡¯t think it was possible that Scott could possibly make that claim. But then Zhu spoke up, the exhausted navigator showing a sudden interest. ¡°Oh hey.¡± He said with a flutter of orange feathers. ¡°It¡¯s a shortcut. Not meant to be, but kinda like running through someone¡¯s kitchen. One way. Weird. Wait, does that mean we¡¯ve been climbing for no reason?¡± ¡±Oh!¡± James had seen this before in the Office. ¡°It¡¯s longer in one direction! Okay, I get it. ¡®Up¡¯ is stretched out, but ¡®down¡¯ is normal if you go over the side. Cool. That saves us a ton of time getting out.¡± That would have been really nice to have been told last time, but he kept that thought to himself. Instead, he stretched his arms out, checking on the others before nodding. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s keep going.¡± James gave Arrush a quick pat on the arm before the two of them moved apart and took up protective positions in front of the others. And then, the walking continued. It wasn¡¯t all grey concrete and straight lines. They kept getting jumped by traffic cones, and at one point the group patiently stepped aside to let a trio of the pangolin-like creatures that were rolled up with their thick rubber hide making them into aggressive tires pass by. A half mile farther up, they even got good advice from their helper, and stayed low underneath the windows as they passed a particularly thick patch of smog that had drifted into the structure, avoiding the dark shapes of flying beasts that flitted back and forth just outside. When they finally made it to the top of the ramp, Scott was starting to get worn down from the pace the other delvers were setting, and spoke up. ¡°If¡­ if you¡¯re trying to get to the roof for the points, you won¡¯t make it before I¡¯m supposed to take you back.¡± He panted out. ¡°There¡¯s easier achievements! We can just¡­ we can go back down, find a bug nest or something for you all to kill, we don¡¯t need to keep climbing!¡± Arrush made a humorous sound muffled by his fitted mask. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t even think of going down. I was remembering the Climb.¡± He said, watching James with a fond memory. The words were cute, and James appreciated them, but they were also a distraction from a real answer. Which was intentional. Because the real answer was that they weren¡¯t actually following the poorly explained guide to known achievements that they¡¯d been given; the truth was that they were here looking for people. The people who had decided they were in charge of this dungeon called them lot goblins, and treated them like a combat challenge. But the way their first encounter with the things had gone, James was inclined to think they were more like native people defending their homes from random attacks, and he was interested in learning more about them no matter what the truth actually was. So when they told Scott they didn¡¯t need to climb anymore, and started following the outer wall of the level they were on, he was relieved. Occasionally as they moved, James would let his attention lapse as he looked out over the edge of the chest high concrete wall, stealing glances of the sprawling rooftop parking lots below. Taking a moment to experience massive vertigo at just how high up they were and how enormous the other buildings within vision range were. The ambush came just before they were about to turn around. James wasn¡¯t dissatisfied at that point, he was pretty sure everyone in the party would be getting at least something that would give them more of the dungeon¡¯s odd magic. But it was actually quite nice when the thing coming out of nowhere to attack them was a projectile made out of sharpened metal and not just another traffic cone. Not that James hated the traffic cones or anything. If they were less fucking vicious, he¡¯d probably be trying to entice one of them to leave with them. Sunny had threatened everyone with doing exactly that, but the limbs she had equipped didn¡¯t have the grip strength to make good on that promise, so it was mostly an empty threat for now. The ambush, though, was different from how dungeon life normally jumped James. The first piece of sharpened metal that was thrown their way from the bed of a pickup truck wasn¡¯t actually aimed at anything. Frequency-Of-Sunlight didn¡¯t even bother to stop it, just let it clang to to ground, the echo of metal on concrete echoing with a loud ringing around them. James hadn¡¯t been exactly prepared for this, but he had in mind a way he would need to react. So when Scott tried to pull the gun from his hip holster, James gently held him back with a hand on the wrist, masking the interception as pulling the young rival delver over to cover. ¡±Oh good!¡± Frequency-Of-Sunlight declared as she flattened herself behind the frame of a jeep-like vehicle. ¡°We found them!¡± Circling around behind the pylon James had pulled Scott to, he heard a quick impact of metal on metal, followed by another clatter as something hit the ground. Then Arrush, raising his voice, called out over the ringing. ¡°Please don¡¯t do that!¡± James peeked around the corner to see Arrush standing in the middle of the concrete road, with Ishah crouched next to him, shotgun pointed idly at the ground even as both ratroaches swept their eyes over the vehicles ahead. Both of them were tense, waiting for another shot from their attackers, but as the seconds ticked by, nothing happened. ¡±Something changed.¡± Zhu said in a tired voice. ¡°I think they ran? Want me to follow them?¡± ¡±Hold off on that.¡± James said, standing fully and walking toward Arrush. ¡°You two okay?¡± ¡±Nothing hit.¡± Arrush reported, while Ishah added a quick and quiet ¡°Fine.¡± James nodded a little, glad no one was hurt, as he bent down to grab one of the projectiles. It looked like a strip cut out of the hood of a car, roughly hammered into a triangular fold and sharpened at the end. He¡­ wasn¡¯t sure this would be enough to even penetrate standard delver armor. ¡°Zhu says they ran.¡± ¡±I didn¡¯t even see them!¡± Scott¡¯s voice joined the group as he crouch-walked up to the end of the waist high concrete dividing wall that separated a handicapped space from the rest of the spots. ¡°What was it? Goblins?¡± He had his gun out now and was peeking up over the edge, even while the Order team just stood openly in the middle of the corridor. A thin line of grey thorns composed of a spectral fire extending from his wrist and into the side of the firearm, like that was a normal way to carry a gun. Every one of the others spent a second staring at that, including Sunny as she slithered up and focused her lens on the sight, before James shook his head and turned back to the stretched and slightly curved concrete path ahead of them. ¡°Yeah. Probably.¡± He sighed as he pulled a handful of granola bars out of one of his leg pouches. ¡°I even came prepared for this. I was learning, Arrush!¡± His boyfriend looked at him with a clearly affectionate gaze. ¡°If¡­ if you had offered me a granola bar, back then, it would have sped things up.¡± He said, feeling instantly awkward as the words left his mouth and he realized what he was trying to turn into humor. ¡±Yeah, Keeka said the same thing.¡± James said, abolishing Arrush¡¯s sudden worry that he¡¯d said something wrong. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll just leave them in the truck they were in.¡± He jogged over to the ambush site, now abandoned, and left the handful of foil wrapped snacks next to where a pair of other thin metal ¡®spears¡¯ had been left behind as well. ¡±Why?¡± Scott asked when James was heading back. Frequency-Of-Sunlight gave the longest hiss she could, stretching it out into a note of pure exasperation. ¡°Because being murderously evil isn¡¯t a good long term plan, you moron.¡± She bluntly stated. ¡±No, but¡­ if you don¡¯t kill them, or at least fight them, you won¡¯t get the extra points from the better milestones, right?¡± Scott asked, puzzled. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t get you guys. I mean, I see your group, I¡¯m not stupid, you¡¯re fine working with demons. And you guys all talk, so you¡¯re not mindless. But the demons this place makes are all evil. They just want to fight. So why bother trying to give them food instead of shooting back?¡± With an attempt at moving quietly, James walked toward him, boots making thunderclaps on the floor anyway. He paused when he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Scott, facing past the young unallied delver, and took a breath. Then he set a hand on Scott¡¯s shoulder, ignoring the way the other human flinched at the contact. ¡°Who told you to believe that, Scott?¡± James asked him with a steely calm, before he let his hand drop back, and walked past back the way they¡¯d entered the dungeon from. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s get out of here and see if cutting a swath through the local population of traffic cones is enough to get us a point or two.¡± ¡±I¡¯ve never been here before, I¡¯m sure to get a point!¡± Sunny reminded them. ¡°I¡¯m gonna level up in looking at things, it¡¯s gonna be great!¡± She stated, and James had to hold himself back from reminding her that she was not the first camraconda in here, and that her aspiration was probably not true. Getting back was a lot easier since they knew there was a shortcut if they were willing to drop about ten feet and land among painted concrete bollards. Zhu confirmed it was safe to go through, but told them they were on their own for landing, and they essentially had to do a trust fall exercise with Frequency-Of-Sunlight when she awkwardly slid off the edge and let the others catch her falling form before she crunched against the concrete. When they got back to the elevator, the other escort, who had been sitting on the hood of a car and playing a game on his phone apparently, looked up and addressed Scott directly. ¡°Did they do anything stupid?¡± He asked. ¡±Yeah.¡± Scott said. Then he started to look back at James, before stopping suddenly and making a quick decision. ¡°They¡¯re all idiots. It¡¯s fine.¡± He added, slapping the button to call the elevator with annoyance that looked like overacting to James but probably wouldn¡¯t register to the other guy as anything weird. The elevator ride up to reality was tense, and in truth, James felt like the delve had been kind of a waste. They¡¯d walked a lot, accomplished nothing, and mostly just had a string of low-effort fights with hostile cones. It was like the setup to an Order-coded standup routine. But also it was sort of indicative of how it was frustrating to go about their normal long wandering explorations and mappings of a dungeon when there were outsiders tagging along and watching them. And also how they¡¯d just kind of brought the wrong team for certain things; this wasn¡¯t the group for deciphering wall graffiti and figuring out what different car-shaped magical machines did. This was the group for safely carving a path into a hostile environment, and they kinda hadn¡¯t gotten to do that. But maybe that could come later. Because one thing they did get to do, at least, was test a few things about this dungeon¡¯s obtuse and obstructionist magic on the way out. ¡±How long is this ride, exactly, do you know?¡± James asked idly as they waited to be carried up by the elevator, watching the timer he¡¯d put in his skulljack¡¯s pseudo-HUD. ¡±Wouldn¡¯t you like to know.¡± Their non-Scott guard said. James shook his head and sighed as he loosened his mask, letting some cool and still slightly smoggy air in against his skin as he decided not to get snippy about it. But he kept himself ready for the notification, whenever the dungeon decided to give it to them. Which was about a minute later, marking the elevator ride at three minutes and twenty one seconds, which he noted for the Order¡¯s records. (Milestone - Low Rhetoric Resolution : +2 AP) The use of the term ¡®low¡¯ set both James and Zhu on edge instantly as they got the same notification. They¡¯d seen that a lot, and they¡¯d seen it over and over from the same place. The Underburbs. If this dungeon was sharing that trait with the suburban hellscape, did it have anything else to worry about? Diseases? Murderous mold? Cars that killed you if you looked at them? They¡¯d have to talk about that later. Because right now, before anything else, before even breathing, they had things to test. Mountain Of The Self was a high cost for a spell, but James fired it off for a split second anyway, feeling short of breath as he let the elevator move him upward but inviolable to anything else for a moment. He was left feeling like he needed to be gasping for breath, if not Breath, and the cold was so obvious in the enclosed space that the two young guys escorting them snapped their heads around in alarm at the sensation. His Breath supply started refilling instantly as Arrush pushed it across their relationstick bond. From James¡¯ left, another bloom of cold came out as Ishah cast his own Climb spell, making the whole elevator feel like someone had overtuned the air conditioning. That same air then suddenly became bone-dry as Zhu mustered the effort to use the absorbed blue orb he had for Collect Moisture, and Ishah¡¯s infomorph friend Moon replicated the same effect. And into James¡¯ head, another mental intrusion from the dungeon explained what his magic changed into. He couldn¡¯t feel it, not like some other magics, but it was there, sure as anything. (Spellcasting - Winter¡¯s Climb : +1 Level, 1 level total) (Breathing : +1 Level, 3 levels total) (2 AP spent, 0 AP remains) ¡±Alright. Sound off.¡± He told the others as soon as they were clear of Utah and safely back at the Lair, glad to be out from under the watchful eye of their collective observers. ¡±I got breathing, dammit! I wasn¡¯t fast enough! I want to go back, I demand a redo!¡± Frequency said. ¡°Why can¡¯t we just loop people through the elevator anyway? Let me just sit there and rack up points!¡± ¡±It¡¯s been proposed.¡± James tapped his sleepy navigator. ¡°Zhu?¡± ¡±Spellcasting, Officium Mundi. But it was¡­ weird.¡± Zhu replied, spreading his talons as his eye and feathers vibrated on James in his version of a yawn. ¡°That was a nice walk, but I need to sleep. Sorry. I can talk more later, but¡­¡± James set a hand on him. ¡±It¡¯s okay. I think we all got the weird notification. Well, except Sunny. Sorry Sunny.¡± ¡±Bah!¡± As Zhu dissolved into his skin, James smiled at her and continued. ¡±Ishah, Moon?¡± He asked the two who were in their own private conversation, hoping he wasn¡¯t interrupting. ¡±S-same as for you and Zhu. But the words were weaker.¡± The compact ratroach said as he unbuckled pieces of his armor. ¡°Like they weren¡¯t finished.¡± Arrush sighed sadly. ¡°I only got more breathing.¡± He said, and then snapped his head up with something that was almost panic in his eyes. ¡°I- I like breathing! I don¡¯t mind!¡± He added with obvious anxiety, that only dimmed a little as James set a hand on the briefing warehouse desk between them and allowed Arrush to clasp it. ¡°I mean that¡­ I mean the experiment didn¡¯t work. The relationstick didn¡¯t improve.¡± ¡±That¡¯s fine, sometimes stuff doesn¡¯t work.¡± James sighed. ¡°Like most of this delve. Alright everyone.¡± He commented, spinning an office chair around and falling into it as he fully stripped off his mask and set it on the central desk in their little pod. ¡°Let¡¯s get through the action review, and record everything. Ishah, you want to handle the map? And then after this¡­¡± He checked his watch. ¡°Hey Arrush, you wanna go out for dinner or maybe a fun delve? I feel bad that I invited you to this and it was boring but also I¡¯m super exhausted.¡± ¡±¡­Pizza.¡± Arrush said. ¡±Hm?¡± ¡±I will forgive you for the thing you had no control over, if we can get pizza.¡± Arrush said, voice still shaking from his burst of anxiety, even as he found a playful confidence to punch through that. James took a second to catch up, but when he did, his face split into a grin. ¡°Yeah, I can manage that. So! Who wants to talk about cones? And then we can discuss how to ideologically subvert the kids they keep sending in with us, yeah?¡± Chapter 308 ¡°It doesn¡¯t even stop there, does it? Because even that version of the phrase has its own cruel irony. The last time you said it, you hadn¡¯t missed your chance! You just thought you had. And as much as the phrase haunts you, you find you haunting your past self, wanting to grab him by the shoulders and scream into his stupid face ¡°You idiot! You haven¡¯t missed your chance! And now because of you, I¡¯ve missed my chance for real!¡± And then all of a sudden you feel a familiar set of fingers over your shoulders, and you realize it¡¯s just a violent conga line down to the grave and congratulations, you¡¯ve done nothing. ¡­What was I even talking about? Patreon, I guess.¡± -JerryTerry, "Interpretation" (or, "Me (or, "Me (or, "Me")")")- _____ The basement lab room was the same as the last time James had seen it, though missing one copy of his boyfriend, and with a few obviously magical orbs added to the assorted Climb items on the table. It was also uncomfortably cold, especially for James. ¡°Why are you damp?¡± Was the first thing Anesh, love of James¡¯ life, asked him as he gave his boyfriend a hug in greeting. ¡°Wait, is this suspicious moisture magical in nature? Am I getting contaminated?¡± James stepped back, holding Anesh by the shoulders, staring at the green-haired iteration of his boyfriend. ¡°I was in Alaska, and it was raining. It¡¯s normal Earth dampness, don¡¯t worry.¡± He informed Anesh. The small sigh of relief Anesh gave was a little insulting. James would have liked to think by now that people would trust him not to inflict mysterious dungeon liquids on them, especially with how seriously the shaper substance could mess someone up if something went wrong. ¡°Well. Good then.¡± Anesh said. ¡°How¡¯s Alaska? Is it doing the thing where it¡¯s dark and frozen all the time?¡± ¡±It is not.¡± James shook his head sadly. ¡°It¡¯s not even really that cold, though it¡¯s still pretty chilly. It¡¯s also full of bastards.¡± ¡±JP isn¡¯t that bad.¡± The joke caught James off guard as he took a seat on one of the stools, a choked cough of laughter erupting from him. ¡°No!¡± He gasped out a protest before he¡¯d managed to really compose himself. ¡°Not JP! Not even the rogues, really, though let¡¯s be real, half the rogues are wonderful people who just happen to be working as spies. No, I mean Priority Earth.¡± ¡±Ah. That.¡± Anesh shook his head, setting down the pool cue he was wiping down. ¡°I¡¯m still against getting anywhere near Harlan, for whatever it¡¯s worth.¡± James leaned forward on the flat counter. ¡±It¡¯s worth a lot.¡± He said. ¡°The Wolfpack is scary. In an actual planned engagement, I think they¡¯re a major threat to us. The Priority guys are less scary, because they don¡¯t seem to actually be aware of their own magic, and are mostly just dudes with guns. And we can handle dudes with guns.¡± ¡±¡­James.¡± ¡±What?¡± ¡±James.¡± Anesh was rubbing his forehead like he had a headache. James crossed his arms. ¡°If we¡¯re just saying names, I could do that too. Anesh.¡± ¡±We - you and another iteration of me - literally both just got shot barely more than a week ago.¡± Anesh told him bluntly. ¡°You got¡­ you got shot in the head. Let¡¯s not make a habit of it, yeah?¡± He met James¡¯ eyes, old and new, for a brief moment before looking away, puffing out a breath as he tried to get back into the rhythm of deep breathing he was doing to refresh his Climb spellcasting supply. Letting the room fall into silence that was only broken by the air conditioner clicking on, and Anesh instantly reacting by hitting a button he had nearby for some reason to turn it off, James let the words sit for a moment. He knew people were worried about him. And really, even with his partners, he knew it so well that he was having to actively suppress his own annoyance with the reminders. They did mean well though. They didn¡¯t want him to get killed. And James could appreciate that, since dying was near the bottom of his lifetime to-do list. So when he did speak, it was to try to reassure Anesh as much as he could. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ okay, saying ¡®don¡¯t worry¡¯ seems dumb. But we were careful. The rogues have been doing this for weeks and no one has noticed. Mostly because we can turn invisible and unnoticable.¡± James tapped the earring he was still wearing. Out of all the magic the Order had, he liked this one least, because he hadn¡¯t wanted to get his ears pierced, but it still needed to be ¡®worn¡¯, so it was kind of tied to his ear with an outer shell of cord. ¡°Anyway. I wasn¡¯t part of anything more than a scouting and planning operation. I promise, I really actually promise that I will not get into a situation where I might get shot without telling you.¡± ¡±What is their magic anyway?¡± Anesh said, forcing the topic to change through a clever diversion. ¡°Do we know how they made the hypnoplant yet?¡± ¡±No clue. On the plant, at least. We sort of know that their buildings are enchanted, which obviously we want. I mean, they have a little village in the middle of nowhere, a hundred miles from the nearest road, but they¡¯ve got power and running water. That¡¯s pretty sweet. The thing is¡­ okay, we hit them once, briefly, right? Well, the more we watch them, the more it seems like they¡¯re¡­ I don¡¯t wanna say they¡¯re victims, because they did try to kill Yin and successfully killed a lot of other people. But they don¡¯t act normal.¡± Anesh looked up from his project notes with raised eyebrows. ¡°How so?¡± ¡±They¡¯re acting like NPCs.¡± James said. ¡°And yeah, I know what that sounds like. But it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s so fucking weird. They¡¯re so mechanical about how they do stuff. I can¡¯t really explain it, you have to see it to really know. But it¡¯s like they¡¯re living in the uncanny valley. Except we¡¯ve got a few records and stuff we stole from the place, we know they weren¡¯t always like this. So¡­ so victims. Maybe.¡± Wincing even as he had the thought, Anesh decided to ask something. ¡±I think Ink-And-Key was the one that brought this up, but are we sure they¡¯re actually bad people? A little extreme to jump to sniper fire and explosives, but¡­ I¡¯ve seen climate predictions too, you know.¡± ¡±Oh, yeah, that.¡± James started to lean back before realizing the stool had no back, turning the movement into a stilted wobble to his feet before he started pacing while he spoke. ¡°So, we¡¯ve talked about this a little before, especially with Status Quo. I think self defense often includes combat, and I think that self defense from people poisoning the planet is a valid track to take. But typically, the Order draws the line at removing the opposition¡¯s ability to make war, you know?¡± ¡±Destroying sources of magic items, counter-kidnapping hostages, leveling property¡­¡± Anesh paused. ¡°¡­James why is it that demolishing buildings is a common thing that happens to our enemies?¡± He asked with open concern, like he¡¯d only just noticed. ¡±Attention to detail.¡± James said quickly with a small hand motion before moving on. ¡°Anyway the Priority Earth targets were, ironically, incredibly low priority if that was their goal. Random investment execs are not¡­ really the people driving demand for fossil fuels? The random people working in the building sure as fuck aren¡¯t. Oh, they¡¯re part of the machinery of the problem, but if you actually wanted to damage the industry, you aim for¡­ you know¡­ industry. Strikes on refineries or oil rigs, lots of them. Disrupt shipping, threaten and blackmail people at every level, poison the product. Do whatever it takes to reduce trust, and make it more expensive than the potential profit. But also, you shoot some specific people, and those people are the ones that are in charge. The very top. And then you shoot whoever replaces them, repeatedly, until the replacements stop coming.¡± While his boyfriend hadn¡¯t noticed it yet, doing his pacing and energetic talking with his hands, Anesh was giving him a somewhat horrified look. ¡°You¡¯ve thought about this a bit, have you?¡± ¡±I have.¡± James confirmed. ¡°Because the easier way to break it is to outcompete. Which we can do with our magic. We don¡¯t need to shoot anyone. Anyway, the point is that their targets were weird even for their stated goals. Especially compared to what we know they were doing before and hypno-bombing coal power plants.¡± He shrugged and spun on his heel to face Anesh. ¡°The actual point is, they suck as ecoterrorists. They also suck as regular terrorists. It¡¯s unclear what their objectives are, which is what we¡¯re trying to learn in the first place. All we really know is that there¡¯s something wrong with them, and asking nicely just does not work.¡± ¡±Did you?¡± Anesh sighed. ¡°Ask nicely, I mean?¡± ¡±No, I¡¯m not stupid.¡± ¡±I¡¯ll take your word on that.¡± James huffed a laugh. ¡°Anyway, JP¡¯s making a big deal out of it, but Priority Earth aren¡¯t doing anything. We don¡¯t even really know where they¡¯re getting their funding from. They just kind of¡­ are there. And still paying the Wolfpack for mercenary services they aren¡¯t using, which is bizarre. The biggest actual issue involved in them is that they¡¯re in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness where telepads don¡¯t work cause there¡¯s no addresses, and, let me just say, logisticors are a lot of things but stealthy is not one of them.¡± ¡±You could use them in the air.¡± Anesh pointed out. ¡°Though I suppose they¡¯re not exactly mobile once the process starts.¡± He got a distant look as his brain started reflexively running the numbers on how easy it would be to move something like Pendragon in flight. ¡°Hmm. What¡¯s Pen¡¯s turning radius?¡± James laughed lightly. ¡°You can ask Dave later, since I kinda doubt he¡¯s as good at documenting as the potion division is. Anyway, I¡¯ve got a couple days to goof off and be a domestic paladin, so I figured I¡¯d say hi and see if you needed help. What¡¯re we up to here?¡± ¡°More testing stuff with the Climb items. Wanna help?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± James didn¡¯t hesitate for a second. It sounded like the perfect way to relax after being forced by JP to hike six miles through untouched Alaskan wilderness just to accomplish nothing but perimeter scouting before being sent back home. ¡°I know we¡¯ve got spells that don¡¯t overlap, wanna start with that? Also I see you have Climb orbs here?¡± The greyish balls looked like they were filled with clouds, swirling on the table. ¡°Later.¡± Anesh frowned at the Mountain¡¯s condensed magic. ¡±But good idea for the spells. Also drink this.¡± Anesh handed him an oxygenation potion, which James tried to down without tasting. ¡°Oh, we should figure out what your ¡®level up¡¯¡± he used finger quotes for the words, ¡°did to your magic first. How do you feel about freezing to death today?¡± ¡±Not great, but I think I can handle being a little dead.¡± James grinned. ¡°Can we maybe get a space heater for in here or something?¡± Anesh¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°I didn¡¯t even think of that! Okay, procurement first, then testing.¡± One procurement later, the two of them began to mess around with their magic. Which, after a few casts, and then the mutual agreement that they should get to real work, turned into iterative testing of their magic. It wasn¡¯t especially exciting, but it was fun to workshop ideas together, and they did start to learn things. Small things, little things, but every individual piece of information they could pin down and add to the Order¡¯s database was something that would continue to push them forward. Any given weird interaction could be useful. Or save a life some day. Or uncover a hidden danger. The first thing they learned was that James¡¯ spellcasting level was¡­ useless? Or so hard to detect that it wasn¡¯t exactly meaningful. Casting Climb spells wasn¡¯t actually very hard; once you learned one, it was like there was an ingrained trigger for it that you wouldn¡¯t really be able to miss. If James¡¯ improvement made it so that process was easier, it was a fractional improvement that would be measured in tenths of a second at most. And the spells seemed to have a pretty standard rate of effect, one that couldn¡¯t be forced to go faster by shoving more Breath in, nor slowed down by holding it back. So comparing the same spell from each of them should have shown clear differences in something to match to James¡¯ boost. But. Nothing. Not unless it was a reduction in cost, which was one of the only things they couldn¡¯t measure easily. But it also wasn¡¯t causing problems, so they moved on to testing how different spells interacted with the handful of magic items they had. There was a theory - really more of an observation of reality - James had that the Office purple orbs were split into two categories. They said they were ¡®shell¡¯ upgrades, but it was kind of a coin toss if the shell they were upgrading was the body you were currently inhabiting, or whatever the Office considered your ¡®self¡¯, or ¡®soul¡¯. To put it another way, some went with you if you moved, some didn¡¯t. This was relevant because he was starting to think that Climb spells, despite being a little more upfront with people about their duration and Breath cost, had several secret categories that they were working on. And when it came to the Climb¡¯s wand-style items that all had the same broad effect of applying some kind of modifier to a spell, that really became clear. The first thing James learned personally was that the items could hold enough spell-attuned Breath to cast a spell multiple times. He hadn¡¯t really grasped that properly when Anesh had first mentioned the things, and then he was a bit distracted for a day, which was enough to reset his memory entirely. But it was something that he had to get into his head before they really started going into each of the ¡®wands¡¯ and their uses. The pool cue should have been the easiest one. All it did was make a spell into a ranged bolt. They tested it at the firing range a few times and confirmed that it was accurate out to two hundred meters, but only James could actually hit at that range. Anesh had too much trouble aiming. But it was still a cool effect. The problem was in the details. Spells like frost vector or worldwalker piton would hit a point, and apply their effects there. Cloud prowler would spawn the cat at the point of impact. Thermodynamic tunnel seemed to use the base of the cue itself as one end of the effect, like it was firing an invisible thread that set up the spell¡¯s other end where it landed. All of those were fine. But what happened when you used flare calculation? The spell that made a mathematical problem ¡®easier¡¯, and was less devastating to civilization than had been feared, didn¡¯t seem to do anything when it wasn¡¯t able to apply to the caster. They¡¯d tried to shoot James with it, with Anesh selecting the formula to be made easier, but that hadn¡¯t done anything either, and not just because James¡¯ math ability sucked. Then they¡¯d shot a whiteboard with an equation on it, and it had worked. ¡°This thing scares me.¡± James said as the two of them stood over the counter, arms crossed in unison, staring down at the pool cue. ¡°Let¡¯s see what happens if I try to make an arm.¡± Reaching frost had made an arm grow out of the wall where James had fired the spell. It hadn¡¯t moved, instead sitting perfectly still, despite the creeping sense that the limb was perfectly alive and functional. A deep and primal fear that there was something on the other end of that arm that they couldn¡¯t see welling up in both of them. They didn¡¯t repeat that test; they¡¯d get to that one when they had a few more people and a flamethrower on hand, just in case. ¡±What¡¯s next?¡± James asked as Anesh petted the snow cat. The cat James summoned, which liked Anesh, but not him. He didn¡¯t take it personally, he and the cat had reached a detente. What was next was the watch that cast spells on a timer from its Breath reserve. It took them a little while to math out exactly what it could hold - thirty five to thirty seven Breath total - which was enough for quite a few spells as long as they weren¡¯t the big ones. Testing on the watch actually stretched over a while because it turned out there was no way to force it to cast, and they had to wait to take notes and make observations. It was a lot easier. It just considered whoever was wearing it as both the caster and target of any spell. If no one was wearing it, it seemed like it treated those values as blank, but cast the spell anyway even if it was just venting magic into the air. James had hoped that the watch would have its own iteration of the cat summon, because that would be hilariously niche, but no. The hubcap that triggered whenever pressure was applied - like, say, from someone stepping on it - was very similar, except unlike the watch, it wanted to be shaped up front. Like reaching frost, for example, the size, shape, and abstract positioning on the target of the limb needed to be determined by the caster when they put it into the hubcap, much like when James had used the pool cue. But after that, it would treat whoever triggered the spell as the one who actually cast it, and got to use the arm or leg or comical phallic appendage he afflicted Anesh with once and only once as a joke. And then there was the sock. A single long athletic sock, certainly the worse for wear from being buried in dungeon snow and mold for who-knew how long, but cleaned up alright. It had a hefty pool of spell-aligned Breath it could hold, but only ever one spell at a time. And when it got warm enough, it would automatically cast that spell, amplified by all the Breath that had been put into it. Measuring that had been exhausting. James sort of instinctively got it right away, and wanted to see if he could make his summon into a snow leopard just for fun, but Anesh wanted to do careful measurements and give general percentages of improvement. Which was kind of boring to James, who spent a portion of the time while his boyfriend measured things making notes through his skulljack on potential uses for the sock. He came up with nothing. It was neat, but it didn¡¯t make the snow cat larger. It just kind of made spells generically better, but never in a way that was transformative. And the trigger condition being ¡®warm enough that they required a toaster oven to trigger it safely¡¯ was just stupidly untenable. ¡±I hate to say this, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m gonna add ¡®one mismatched sock¡¯ to my paladin outfit.¡± James said morosely. ¡±Which is a shame, because you becoming closer and closer to an anime character has been fun to watch. I have a bet with Alanna about how long it takes you to end up wearing more than three belts at once.¡± Anesh replied with a satisfied smile as he finished marking off the grid of spells and items they¡¯d tested interactions with. It wasn¡¯t everything yet; they needed to get more people with more of the magic neither of them had in here. ¡°I bet we could find a niche use for it though. Maybe give Camille even bigger dragon wings, so she¡¯s an impact hazard to even more people.¡± ¡±Cam¡¯s weirdly good at not hitting people with the wings, actually.¡± James sighed as he tossed the sock onto the counter, the snow cat using some of the tail end of its time to bat at it with an outstretched paw. ¡°She moves with them like it¡¯s natural, it¡¯s really impressive and kinda makes me want to grab that for my next spell.¡± Anesh looked up with raised eyebrows. ¡±Or¡­ just get someone to feed it into the hubcap or sock for you? That is what we determined is likely to work. But also let me record it when you do for archival purposes.¡± ¡±Yes yes.¡± James smiled at his partner. ¡°You know, I really missed this.¡± Anesh raised an eyebrow at him, until James explained. ¡°Us. Figuring out magic. Ignoring all the outside pressure, nothing trying to kill us, just messing around with¡­ with magic. Magic.¡± His smile was lopsided, his gaze distant. ¡°It¡¯s just nice. And I love having something to hang out and do together.¡± He trailed off, before suddenly clapping his hands. ¡°So! The orbs?¡± Anesh¡¯s own compassionate smile was replaced by focus as James drew his attention back to the table. ¡±Oh. I don¡¯t know what to do with these. If you want to take one and try to make a new imbuement technique or something, be my guest. I just had them if we needed Breath back faster, but it didn¡¯t come up since we stuck to mostly smaller spells.¡± ¡±Tell that to my freezing toes.¡± James chuckled, watching as the snow cat on the counter jerked its head up, mimed sniffing the air, and leapt off. It never hit the floor though, instead dissolving into powdery snow as its duration ran out, whatever it was curious about an unfulfilled quest. At least until James summoned it back again later. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll hang onto this.¡± He plucked one of the small orbs, slightly larger than the fingertip sized Office yellows, off the table and put it into a drawstring pouch that he pulled from his pocket. He¡¯d started carrying little bags for orbs just to cut down on accidental breakages, which hadn¡¯t stopped the issue, but had made it better. ¡°And I¡¯m gonna go¡­ wander.¡± He nodded. ¡±Wander?¡± ¡±Wander. See the sights. Walk amongst the people.¡± James gave his words a playful false gravitas. ¡°Find out if there¡¯s anything I can help with. You know, paladin stuff.¡± What made Anesh smile was the knowledge that his boyfriend was joking, but not lying. He was absolutely certain James meant what he was saying, possibly more than he realized. ¡°Have fun, love.¡± He said, the words coming out with a familiarity that had worn down the last remnants of embarrassment Anesh used to feel speaking the affection out loud. ¡°I¡¯ll be around. Well, some of me, at least. I think half my brains are getting mad at orbital magical failures right now. Don¡¯t bother them. They¡¯re going mad.¡± ¡±Good to know.¡± James kissed his boyfriend on the forehead, and then left the room with a wave over his shoulder. The hours spent on actual research had been fun, but he needed to warm up, stretch his legs, and find some other trouble to get into. _____ Every now and then, James actually did do the thing he¡¯d promised to do, and focused more magic into his bloodstream so he would be a more effective paladin. He¡¯d had a package of curated assorted stuff that had been prepared for him waiting for about a week, but he¡¯d held off just because it would mean more small things to incorporate into training, and also some of it was purple orbs that he didn¡¯t want to risk using while he was missing an eye. Eye restored, and a little free time available for practice, the box of goodies he picked up from the front desk felt a lot more manageable. James had started to make a joke to Zhu as he¡¯d stolen a free desk in the back warehouse to use for exploring his new bounty, only to realize the navigator was in deep slumber that James couldn¡¯t casually reach just by thinking or speaking. It put a little melancholy on the event, replacing the physical dampness from Alaska with an emotional sogginess that James didn¡¯t appreciate much. But the knowledge that Zhu would absolutely slap him with a sheaf of feathers for saying that out loud prompted James to set aside his worry for his friend and crack the box open. There were¡­ a lot of orbs. All of them with tiny numbered notes tied to them and a menu someone had made listing off what they all were. James loved the attention to detail, and the care that had gone into this, and he felt a little bit like he was a kid at Christmas who was shredding meticulously assembled wrapping paper as he started mowing through the glowing spheres. A waterfall of yellow, blue, purple, red, and green orbs, their sources mixed between two different dungeons and their effects ranging from life altering to niche esoterica. [+1 Skill Rank : Medical - Diagnosis - Disease - American] [+1 Species Rank : Canine - Domesticated - Dalmatian] [+1 Species Rank : Spider] [+2 Skill Ranks : Repair - Structure - Walls] [+1 Skill Rank : Weaponry - Knife] [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Anger] [+.6 Emotional Resonance Ranks : Anger] [+1 Skill Rank : Typing - Touch - DVORAK] [+2 Skill Ranks : Athletics - Training - Stamina - Rowing] [Shell Upgraded : Safe Internal Temperature - Organs - +3 Degrees Celsius] [+1 Skill Rank : Law - Roadways - Signage] [+1 Skill Rank : Driving - Motorcycle] [+1 Skill Rank : Athletics - Martial Arts - Judo] [Shell Upgraded : +12% Circulatory System] [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Fear] [+2 Skill Ranks : Language - Japanese] [+1 Skill Rank : Apiology] [+4 Skill Ranks : Survival - Wilderness - Plant Identification - Inedible - Asia] [Shell Upgraded : Lungs - Carbon Processing - 2.9 mm^3/day] [Shell Upgraded : Adrenaline Efficiency +35%] [Shell Upgraded : -1 Sprain / Year] [+1 Tool Rank : Pencil - Mechanical - .7 mm #2] [+1 Tool Rank : Mattock] [+1 Tool Rank : Vehicle - Subaru - Hatchback] [+1 Tool Rank : Knife] [+1 Skill Rank : Templating - Incident Reports - Police - American] [+1 Skill Rank : Pilot - Rotor Aircraft - Eurocoptor] [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Pity] [Shell Upgraded : +3 PSI Puncture Resistance] [Shell Upgraded : Bioluminescence - Shoulders / Neck - +/- 900 Lumens] [+1 Species Rank : Avian - Monotonous Lark] [+1 Species Rank : Carp - Domesticated - Koi] [+3 Species Ranks : Snakes - Vipers - Bamboo] [+2 Material Ranks : Metal - Alloyed - Stainless Steel] [+2 Material Ranks : Concrete] [+2 Skill Ranks : Communication - Vocal - Tone Modulation] [+1 Skill Rank : Ecology - Environments - Wetlands] [Shell Upgraded : Regeneration - Digit - Left - 8% absolute / week] [Certification Added : Work Permit - Refugee - Syrian] The very last was an orange that had been listed for an attempt at absorbing, but James¡¯ comically small impact job of turning eaten apples into saffron was still enough to block him from doing that properly. And the associated document showing up in his jacket pocket was a small sliver of icy sorrow at the cruelty that humans were still in the process of inflicting on each other. A problem James didn¡¯t have a solution to yet, and might never actually achieve, but that he hated all the same. The second to last was the closest James had ever seen a purple orb get to explaining itself. It wasn¡¯t great, but it was nice to know that if he lost a finger on his left hand, he¡¯d get it back in¡­. He closed his eyes and did the math too slowly, wishing one of the orbs had been for basic arithmetic for way too long before he remembered he had a bespoke calculator program plugged into his brain and did it the easy way. Four months, give or take. Practically forever these days, given how much was happening, but at least it would happen. It was all a lot. New things that felt like muscles he could flex that let him glow if he wanted was a fun orb, but even better, it let him stop the natural miniscule glow he put off normally. He¡¯d be slightly harder to kill in a lot of different ways now just from the purples, and several of the yellow orbs made him more dangerous too. But several others made him better at just being useful, which was equally part of James¡¯ life now. Others were on the list just to push his Sewer lessons forward; nothing over the edge yet, but hundreds of points of progress in his computer science and biology Lessons. Biology would take dozens more orbs, but¡­ they had them now. He could get them when they were available, and Deb collected the things. James should talk to her, and see if she could help get him from the 3,800 or so he was sitting at now up over the 4,200 point checkpoint line of his Lesson that would make him even harder to put in the ground. Other things of note were the steel material rank, which would be actually hugely useful for learning a wide array of things, and the resonance ranks in anger, which were mostly left over from red orbs copied for Simon. But¡­ well¡­ James needed that too. James was not a calm person. His anger often guided his actions, and very often that guidance was valuable and just, but as he grew stronger and stronger, he needed checks on his behavior to keep himself from lashing out and hurting people without cause. Especially if he was getting more ranks in combative skills. Which he wasn¡¯t going to say no to; his job was also to be the front line, after all. A cluster of copied Route Horizon gears came next. James was one of those people who wasn¡¯t in tune enough with that dungeon¡¯s magic to use more than one copy of each gear, so his gains were limited, but by the time he was done, he had a Velocity cap of nineteen, and was feeling so much better about it than he was with his more limited pool that he¡¯d started the day with. Next was a handful of spellslot coins for the still-unvisited Utah dungeon. James had no problem snapping all those in half, collecting empty spaces in his magical imprint that he could fill later, bringing himself up to ten level one and six level two spells. He didn¡¯t get any copies of the special level one coin that Arrush had earned, because he wasn¡¯t going to specialize and track his usage of magic enough to make it ever worth it, and he didn¡¯t want to risk any drawbacks for failing to do so. He also wished they had higher level coins, but hopefully that was something they could pick up later. The other stuff in the box wasn¡¯t exactly consumable on the spot, but it was all useful. Durable flasks of potions, mostly exercise but also the new one for sprinting and some ghost juice. A replacement pair of affiliation glasses, and a few other Office dungeontech items too. A USB stick with a program that could record without a microphone, a stack of sticky notes that burst into thick smoke if someone got too close after they were attached to something, a pen that made whatever it wrote on tougher but only worked if you actually wrote something and not just with scribbles. Small things that weren¡¯t really worth copying when they had other more powerful things to do, but that might be meaningful to James. And then, the leveler items. Three bracers, an earring, and a glove. All of them, though, had been run through the overhead projector ritual that ¡®improved¡¯ something. Slightly faster cooldowns, slightly tougher, slightly better effects. James had unclasped the two bracers he was wearing as part of his everyday outfit, and replaced them with the new ones. He hated them instantly. It wasn¡¯t that they were underleveled either; copied shield bracers would end up growing over time anyway, and he always made sure to keep his leveler items charging so no time was wasted. A few minutes off the cooldown would be nice when it happened, but he could and would survive without it. It was more that¡­ well¡­ James had to admit that his mindset was silly here. They didn¡¯t feel like his gear. They fit too well, were too ergonomic. They missed the little notch he had in one of his bracers from where it had deflected a bullet once, and the small loop of wire that came off of every copy had been shifted so it didn¡¯t poke his arm anymore as he walked. It was wrong. They were nice. And for just a moment, he wanted to complain to the universe for giving him this when he wasn¡¯t supposed to have nice things. Instead, he took a deep breath, and moved his old bracers into the box to take home. Then he pulled on the modified glove, double checked the imbued extra ability on it to write at a distance, and gave a self-satisfied hum as he put together that he could probably use this with his new magic pen. And any magic pens, actually. And then, he felt like he was ready for what came next. No longer flailing and making due with what was available. Not hoping for random purple orb pulls that would save his ass. He was arming and armoring himself, helped along by the whole Order and their growing system of delving and self improvement. And he felt prepared. Not perfectly, not like he was a god among men who could slap down any problem without thought. But he was happy with his chances of doing some good, the next time he was called upon to do so. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. James packed up the extra stuff into his case, and stood up from his desk. He waited briefly, nodding at the group passing by who were covered in melting snow and grumbling about the Climb delve they¡¯d just returned from that looked like it had been miserable. They weren¡¯t the only ones in the warehouse, but all the different groups of delvers planning operations, waiting for friends, scheduling training, reviewing maps, and practicing small magics, they were all part of the system that James was being trusted to protect and energize. He was happy with that. He could do that. He went to go find some good to be called upon to do. _____ It took exactly twenty three minutes of double checking neatly stacked boxes full of Status Quo documents before James stopped helping a beleaguered and slightly manic Researcher try to find a magic belt. He didn¡¯t ask questions about the belt; he didn¡¯t want to know. He felt like knowing would drag him deep into the same madness afflicting an increasing number of people down here. _____ James ran into Morgan only partly by accident. The kid - a term he was outgrowing faster and faster it seemed - was taking a break from cleaning the Lair¡¯s main floor bathrooms. A job that James had done himself, and was not envious of; but the fact that Morgan seemed to be handling it basically without complaint was either impressive or just because there was no one nearby to complain to. James fixed that. Approaching the little bench that Morgan was sitting on and introducing himself with a casual ¡±Yo.¡± as Morgan tried to awkwardly get his attention without interrupting whatever James was doing. Which was, currently, nothing. ¡°Hey.¡± Morgan said. ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t want to¡­ you know, if you¡¯re busy¡­¡± ¡±Morgan two people said you were looking for me earlier today.¡± James said, giving a kind smile and intentionally not laughing. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Morgan¡¯s expression shifted, though not in an intentionally expressive way. Just enough for James to read him as uncomfortable. ¡°Which two people?¡± ¡±You can ask them later, they¡¯ll probably tell you.¡± James took a seat on the end of the bench, leaning his shoulder against the wall that technically led to the briefing warehouse. He thought. But actually he didn¡¯t know where this bench or the little alcove it was in had come from, and so James wasn¡¯t confident this wall didn¡¯t lead to the void between worlds or something. ¡°So hey, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡±Oh. Uh. Nothing.¡± Morgan said, lying. James shifted against the wall, kicking his feet out and stretching. ¡°Morgan.¡± He said using his best adult voice. ¡°Alright, look, I¡¯m gonna just blitz into this one. It sounds like you¡¯ve got something bothering you, and I¡¯d like to help. Course, you¡¯re welcome to tell me to fuck off, okay? But I¡¯m told I¡¯m pretty good at a few things, so maybe I can give you a hand.¡± The dark haired teen groaned as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, though keeping his hands off his head since he had that residual feeling of using cleaning chemicals and didn¡¯t want to touch anything. ¡°I¡­ hey, how am I even supposed to talk to you?¡± Morgan asked abruptly. ¡±¡­with your mouth words?¡± James offered unhelpfully. ¡°Or, I mean, if you want you can just send me random chat messages and I¡¯ll reply at odd hours.¡± ¡±Oh come on.¡± Morgan turned his head to glower at James. ¡°You know what I mean. Are you, like, a parental figure or something?¡± James let his smile slide south a bit, adopting a sad expression as he shook his head. ¡°Nah. I think it¡¯s a little late for that. Maybe things could have been different if we¡¯d started out some other way, but at this point, I don¡¯t think either of us feels like that¡¯s what we¡¯ve got going on.¡± He shifted, moving to sit in the same posture that Morgan had. ¡°Honestly, I know that no one magically becomes an adult when they turn the right age, but you¡¯re not a kid who needs someone like me hovering around taking care of you. Or it doesn¡¯t feel that way, I could be wrong, and that¡¯s not some kind of backhanded insult.¡± He took a comforting breath as the oxygenation potion¡¯s effects faded and breathing became a little more required and a little more satisfying. ¡°I think you¡¯re someone in the Order of Endless Rooms. And I think I¡¯d like to be your friend who helps you out when you need it.¡± Morgan nodded slowly, then stopped and gave a short sharp sigh. ¡°When I first moved in here, Nate warned me on day one that you loved monologuing.¡± ¡±I¡¯m not monologuing! You¡¯re saying stuff too!¡± James protested with a laugh. ¡°That is dialoguing.¡± ¡°My advice thing is kinda stupid.¡± Morgan abruptly swerved the conversation, trying not to let James get him laughing himself. James¡¯ frown this time was just a bit sarcastic. ¡°If you need help with your sex life I don¡¯t know what I have to offer you. Try asking your partners what they like, then do that more? That¡¯s about all I¡¯ve got except to say that there¡¯s free condoms in the bathrooms?¡± ¡±I know, I restock them.¡± Morgan said, battling through the rush of embarrassment as his face turned beet red. ¡°And no! I don¡¯t need¡­ I know what I¡¯m¡­ that¡¯s fine thanks.¡± ¡±I¡¯m just trying to help!¡± James held up his hands in surrender. He was, actually, trying to help. It was just that he was applying a trick that he¡¯d had used against himself as a younger human, that it turned out, worked great on most people. If someone was having trouble breaching a topic they thought was awkward, and you took the conversation off a cliff in a swan dive, it felt a hundred times easier afterward to bring up what was really on their mind. And it worked on Morgan like clockwork. ¡°I wanna be a paladin!¡± He said abruptly and louder than he intended. James didn¡¯t shift expression or say anything, just sat there next to him in the shadow of the janitor¡¯s cart that Morgan was using. People walking by mostly ignored them, and the steady noise of conversation from the front desk provided a kind of muffled backdrop to their chat. ¡°I want¡­ I want to do what you do.¡± Morgan reiterated, staring to his right, away from James and into a wall like he was analyzing the drywall at a molecular level. ¡°I want to be a hero.¡± James didn¡¯t say anything for a few long seconds, because in his head, he was reliving another conversation he¡¯d had once. Not exactly here, but nearby; just a couple dozen feet away in the dining area. There had been another teenager, though one younger than Morgan, who had asked James to let him fight. Hell, they¡¯d probably gone to the same school. And James had said no. And that kid had died anyway. The memory was sudden and heavy, and James had to stop himself from giving a reflexive response based deep in his own fears. Because even though he was seeing Morgan grow up in real time into something resembling an adult, James also did feel like he was protective of the teenager. Like he should tell Morgan that everything would be fine, and keep him safe and secure in the Lair, away from the worst and violent parts of the world. ¡±I¡­¡± he started to say in a soft exhale. Morgan cut him off. ¡°I know it¡¯s dumb.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid, man. I live here. I see how fucked up everyone gets about¡­ I mean, a lot of stuff.¡± His distant stare toward the building¡¯s front door briefly confused a passing camraconda. ¡°It feels like I should get superpowers and just fight everything that¡¯s bad. But I know that¡¯s stupid too. I just want to do something useful. I like delving. I like¡­ I mean, I like at least two people. I could probably like other people, even if it feels like most people kinda suck. But I don¡¯t know where to start.¡± ¡±Ah, the eternal problem.¡± James nodded, at least able to answer part of that. ¡°So, just so you know? That¡¯s not dumb. That¡¯s¡­ you want to be a good person, and you¡¯re asking how to be better at being a good person. Morgan that¡¯s it. That¡¯s the thing. That¡¯s what the Order exists to inspire.¡± He raised a hand between them. ¡°You got it. High five.¡± He said. Morgan¡¯s gave him a side eyed squint, waiting for the joke or the trap to spring, but nothing came. Slowly, he raised his own hand and gave a halfhearted slap on James¡¯ palm. ¡°So¡­¡± It was interesting, James felt, to look at someone younger and recognize a lot of himself in them. Less experienced, more obvious, but it was kinda easy to tell that Morgan had a desire to be a kind of storybook hero, along with a growing anger at the world for its injustices. James remembered, personally, how hard it was to manage those emotions when he was growing up. How much he¡¯d wished it were easier; not that he¡¯d wished for help, exactly, but only because he hadn¡¯t known help was an option. Morgan was young. But he was trying his best. And it wasn¡¯t like lacking years was a big deal in the building where practical knowledge was just an orb away. ¡±So getting started.¡± James nodded. ¡°This is still hard even for me.¡± He started to formulate an answer, and then, when he was halfway through mentally workshopping a sentence about how problems required solutions that created system that prevented the problem from popping up again, he realized that wasn¡¯t what Morgan needed. What Morgan needed was guidance, and a safe environment to learn practical skills while he worked on internalizing the more complex parts of Order philosophy. ¡°Where do you want to start?¡± James asked instead. ¡±I dunno. I don¡¯t even know what my options are.¡± Morgan shrugged. ¡°I got a Sewer book for social studies, so I¡¯ve been trying to learn more about that. And I saved the rest of my points for skill orbs I guess? But I don¡¯t know how to do the thing. I haven¡¯t used any of my Climb spell slots either, but that¡¯s not the problem, the problem is I don¡¯t know what to do.¡± ¡±Yeah, I¡¯m starting to see the shape of the issue.¡± He said. ¡°You wanna come with me on a delve?¡± James asked suddenly. ¡±What, really?¡± Morgan blinked back surprise. James nodded. ¡±Yeah.¡± The idea started to take shape. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing. Being a paladin is¡­ complicated. It¡¯s not really about power or combat ability or how many spells you have, okay? It might be a while before you¡¯re a candidate.¡± ¡±Yeah, I get that. I¡¯m not in a hurry!¡± Morgan was quick to try to make himself look good, though he didn¡¯t think of it that way. James still got amused at the quick defense though. ¡°Um¡­ why a delve?¡± ¡±Because it¡¯s a good place for you to learn a few specific things that I don¡¯t think are teachable.¡± James said. ¡°Like how to be afraid. How to be kind while you¡¯re in danger. And how to fight.¡± ¡±I¡¯ve fought before!¡± ¡±You got in a brawl with someone your age and general shape.¡± James pointed out. ¡°You haven¡¯t fought something to the death. And I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll like it. I¡¯m not saying that¡¯ll make you a bad paladin, I¡¯m saying you need to know. And it¡¯ll be a good way to start to figure out how exactly we should train people. We can learn together.¡± He nodded. ¡°Actually hey, wasn¡¯t Simon going to be helping you out with this?¡± Morgan looked away again, taking a deep breath and clearly working through something before he answered James. ¡°Simon¡¯s busy.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s fine, he¡¯s just¡­ he doesn¡¯t do things like you do, I guess? He¡¯s organized and scheduled and shit, and I don¡¯t want to get in his way. Not like I¡¯m being mean to myself!¡± Morgan said that so quickly that James was certain he¡¯d heard pushback on this exact thing before. ¡°But he actually is busy, and just does stuff different than you. And¡­ and I dunno. Everyone¡¯s cool, but if I had to pick someone¡­¡± he looked down again, ducking his head as he realized he sounded sappy and emotional. Regardless of who he was going to say, James decided to let him let it drop. ¡±Alright.¡± He said instead. ¡°We don¡¯t do anything like an official squire program or anything around here-¡° ¡±Wait, what about Brian? Isn¡¯t he Arrush¡¯s squire?¡± ¡±¡­I¡­ I have no fucking clue¡­¡± James trailed off, staring up at the ceiling. ¡°I should be interrogating my boyfriend more, clearly.¡± The look on the teen¡¯s face was one of open shock, without any attempt to cover it up. ¡±You¡¯re dating Brian?!¡± ¡±¡­Morgan if you¡¯re gonna be my temporary squire, we cannot be vaudvilling our way through every conversation.¡± Morgan snapped to attention. ¡°Okay! Yeah, sure, I can do that! I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll have to look that up later, but I can do that!¡± Standing up, James let his back adjust with a stretch as he shook his head. ¡°Message me when you¡­¡± his phone pinged instantly as Morgan sent him a message using his skulljack without breaking eye contact. ¡°¡­alright good reminder.¡± James laughed. ¡°You¡¯re good with that thing, huh?¡± Morgan nodded proudly, and James just sighed as he remembered that they were nominally trying to keep people from getting skulljacks until they were a little older. But whatever. ¡°I¡¯ve got a thing for the next few days to try to learn how to kill a god, but feel free to ask questions or harass me so I don¡¯t forget, okay?¡± ¡±Okay.¡± Morgan said with the kind of tone that someone used when whatever the fuck James said had become normal in their life. ¡°And¡­ and thanks.¡± He stood himself, kicking the lock for the wheel of his cart full of cleaning supplies. ¡°Uh¡­ does being a paladin or a squire or anything like that mean that I don¡¯t need to clean the bathrooms anymore?¡± ¡±Oh Morgan.¡± James clapped a hand on the teen¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I still take a turn doing that every week. There¡¯s no way in hell you¡¯re escaping it.¡± _____ After a short detour to use his powers of unobstructed communication to solve a mild interpersonal issue, and then another detour to use Call to Blood to track down an injured shellaxy that had hurt itself escaping from the pen, and then another diversion to deliver some aid packages Recovery had prepared for victims that were leaving the Order¡¯s care soon, James took some time to himself. In truth, the detours and diversions and tangents were what being a paladin was about. His job was, essentially, picking up every side quest and sequencing them in a way where no one was forgotten. No one was left alone or afraid. And he knew that he wasn¡¯t enough to help ¡®everyone¡¯, even within just the Order. But he could set the example, and there would be more people coming after him. The time he had to himself was spent in the most boring way possible; staring at as-yet-unvisited Utah dungeon spellbooks, to fill up his newly acquired spell slots. None of the times involved were individually a huge hit to his schedule, but because other people wanted to use these things, he couldn¡¯t just put a stack on his desk and hog them all for himself. Still, he made good use of his time, and of the new books looted from their enemies that had been ceded as part of their current peace treaty. James remembered that Becker, or whatever the man¡¯s real name was, had said that he had a spellbook for ¡®normal vision from one eye¡¯, and he kinda wished that the guy had held off on betrayal long enough for the Order to buy that off of him. It would have been handy, and saved him some neck strain, for the week and a half where he was missing an eye. As it stood, they still had some options that were useful for the busy cosmopolitan paladin. The lack of access to level three or up spell slots cut off a surprising number of the books - and also the single battered e-reader that was also a spell source - but the level one and two spells had some useful stuff, even if James didn¡¯t want to spend hours and hours stacking up the bonuses that made them really good. Appointed Arrival was a level two spell that tipped into level three if you got even a single upgrade to it, but what it did was still worth it. Letting someone bend space to cover up to about twenty feet in a single step, it looked weird from an outside perspective, but was perfectly safe for the user. James grabbed three uses of it, spending almost half an hour on just that. Jester¡¯s Sip, by contrast, was a party trick of a level one spell. Taking twelve minutes a use, it let you drink something at range. More upgrades meant more range, and more drinking, though while the caster still tasted their target, it basically teleported the liquid into the stomach, skipping the awkwardness of swallowing arbitrarily large volumes. Which could obviously be unsafe, but James really only needed the two or three ounces it could call up so that he could drink potions in a fight without having to open a flask or wear a vapor mask. He took two uses. Jubilant Crossing let you copy whatever someone else was physically feeling, and feel it yourself. It wasn¡¯t exactly that useful for fighting or anything. James took it once, for personal reasons that he pretended were ¡®testing¡¯. Breathe Quartz was arguably the most valuable spell. Level one, six minutes, and it turned plastic litter - it had to be actual litter - into gold. In reality, it needed ten upgrades to even convert something the size of a single soda bottle, and James didn¡¯t have an extra hour. So he took two copies of Charm River Transformation instead, in case they went back into the Sewer and he needed to help pacify a frog dog. Mindful Reverberation was a great spell for therapy, or for brainwashing children, and James didn¡¯t really want to touch that until the psychiatric department they¡¯d practically hired completed at least a basic study on the thing. Instead, he looked to another level two spell to eat up the rest of his free time. Copper Craft made a knife. Specifically, it conjured a knife out of nothing, which was neat, but it was also the same knife people kept trying - and sometimes succeeding - in stabbing James with. They had a few of the things in the vault, and James specifically picked this spell to actually focus on for almost an hour because those knives had a feel to them. Granted, Anesh had already proved to him that just cause an item felt magical, didn¡¯t mean it was. Which was cool on its own, but James still could use a backup undetectable weapon, just in case. And also knives were often useful for a ton of other non-stabbing things. And he made sure it was no longer than an hour, too, because more than two pluses and it ticked to a higher level, which would banish it from his list and also hurt like fuck. So after a while, staring at the runes and symbols and non-words of mostly just the first page of a bunch of different books, James had a final prompt that looked something like this. |1 : 3 Slots Empty 1 : 1 Saint¡¯s Wrap 1 : 1 Saint¡¯s Wrap +++ 1 : 2 Jester¡¯s Sip 1 : 1 Jubilant Crossing 1: 2 Charm River Transmutation 2 : 2 Slots Empty 2 : 3 Appointed Arrival 2 : 1 Copper Craft ++| He¡¯d completely forgotten that he had towels queued up and ready to go. That might have been useful over the last week. James made sure to record his spell list to his skulljack notepad, because he didn¡¯t want to have to relearn a new spell just to check; these spells didn¡¯t feel like anything until you cast them. It was a lot less convenient than Velocity¡¯s constant pressure in the chest reminding you that you were brimming with magic. He¡¯d put more time and practice into these new spells, and look over the rest of the new books, later. And there were others; some of them James knew would be useful, but that he didn¡¯t have hours to put into. For now, this was a start. More tools, more armaments. More options for the next trial. He just wished it didn¡¯t take so long. _____ The soles of James¡¯ shoes crunched into gravel as he walked across the most intact part of a pumpkin farm on the edge of civilization in Yamhill. The idea of cultivating pumpkins here was long gone, though the defiant gourds were growing across the fields anyway, along with every variety of weed farmers normally tried to keep out of their crops that had followed in the wake of the chanter¡¯s brief stop here. The farmhouse was just a pile of blackened sticks jutting up from the ground like the skeletal fingers of a dead beast, and the nearby barn hadn¡¯t fared any better. And there was still an overturned SUV in a pool of debris and stained gravel between where James landed and the vaguely spherical chunk of the Status Quo prison that they¡¯d scooped out and teleported here. This left the parking lot, which was really just gravel and dirt that wasn¡¯t even that well compressed, as the least damaged part of the whole territory. The place was a wreck. And the lingering smell of woodsmoke from the mass fire spell that had ravaged the nearby urban area and hundreds of acres of farm and woodland didn¡¯t make it feel any more welcoming. Time had passed since that event, but not enough to fully heal the wounds or the memory of it. Legally, the Order of Endless Rooms owned this property. Practically, no one was going to be coming out here anyway. It wasn¡¯t between anywhere important, and no one was gonna stop at a burned down wreck unless they were looking for adventure. Research tested dangerous stuff out here. A thing that they¡¯d started doing on their own initiative, which James appreciated. There was a non-joke that regulations tended to be written in blood, and at least twice now some Research experiment had threatened to consume the Lair in some kind of calamity, so the fact that it hadn¡¯t taken an actual lethal disaster to get them to decide to start doing totem work elsewhere was a good sign. As soon as James had landed from his teleport, the pair of small drones he had on him all the time launched skyward. He was getting better at controlling the things, and did so constantly whenever he had the chance. The Order didn¡¯t have a custom made or magically grown program for handling drone control through a skulljack, but James had been the first person to learn that you could do this on ¡®manual¡¯, and he liked to think he could keep up with the people who took it to a real skill. It was comforting to always have a pair of video feeds of the space around him, especially with how life was lately, but it was also really convenient for helping him find the cluster of people he was looking for here. Stopping on the outside of where a bunch of red rope threaded through posts driven into the ground marked off a circle of terrain, James circled the outside of the danger zone until he got close to the people who were currently measuring purple orbs with calipers and arguing about something. ¡±Hey folks.¡± James approached knowing he¡¯d already been spotted. There were at least seven people here, mostly humans and camracondas, and James was sure there was at least one infomorph he couldn¡¯t see. He recognized Thermoclese and Paper-And-Words, but most of the others were either new or James hadn¡¯t been around them enough to cement their names in his brain. ¡°Just checking in.¡± A young hispanic human turned his way, face blank of expression. ¡±Ah. I recognize this. This is the part where we learn that we are doing something risky and problematic.¡± He said with a monotone. James spread the fingers of one hand, slowly shrugging as he gave a placating ¡°No no no. Sort of. But no.¡± The inhabitor wasn¡¯t completely wrong, but it wasn¡¯t that what they were doing was dangerous. ¡±So is that gonna blow up or something?¡± Thermoclese pointed a hand like a gun toward the cubic design out in the middle of the marked off circle. ¡°Cause it would save us time if you tell us now.¡± ¡±Uh¡­ no. Probably not.¡± James realized suddenly that the reason the circle of red rope was so huge was that they were prepared to use a logisticor to teleport whatever they were working on somewhere else if they needed to get rid of it, and the boundary of that effect was what dictated their safety limit. He hoped it wasn¡¯t aimed into the sea; that sounded like it was just making new problems for whales. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m here to tell you you¡¯re replicating work.¡± ¡±But not work that causes explosions, right?¡± Thermoclese clarified. ¡°Like, this one isn¡¯t going to explode or anything, right?¡± James wasn¡¯t quite sure how to reply to that. ¡°I mean¡­ I have no idea? I¡¯m just doing the communication improvement part of my job. You guys are working on purple totems, right?¡± ¡±Yeah, we¡¯re¡­ oh, oh!¡± Thermoclese clapped her hands in one loud motion, looking somewhere between annoyed and excited. ¡°Was my guess right? Are they memeplexes?¡± ¡±I¡­ don¡¯t¡­ know?¡± James asked. ¡°See, I-¡° He didn¡¯t get very far before the group of researchers started debating with each other about the nature of a purple orb based totem. Apparently, James had walked into the middle of a fierce academic skirmish here, but also, he¡¯d screwed up and not spoken fast enough to cut off any incorrect assumptions. ¡±This simplifies a lot of things.¡± Paper-And-Words stated, synthesized voice coming out contemplative. ¡°If your guess was correct, then we do not need to build anything, merely find what we already built.¡± ¡±Yeah, I¡¯m thinking we probably put it in the basement.¡± Thermoclese nodded at the camraconda. ¡°And by we I mean whoever did this before I signed on, because I would not.¡± She stretched out the last word, shaking her head as she waved the group together into a circle. ¡°Alright people, we need to figure out how to search for-¡° ¡±Uh¡­¡± James raised his hand, getting an irate look as he cut her off. ¡°Hi, sorry, still here and didn¡¯t finish my explanation.¡± He cleared his throat and spoke up so everyone could hear him. ¡°I am not here to tell you that we¡¯re looping antimemetics divisions and you¡¯re replicating work that has been made forgotten. That would be¡­ that would be pretty bad! I would be worried, and would have showed up faster!¡± James felt like he should be seeing fewer people be disappointed that they weren¡¯t experiencing inflicted amnesia. ¡°No, I mean, you¡¯re literally doing something that¡¯s being done in another part of the Order, and I¡¯m just double checking on all those today so that no one gets surprised by it later.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± Thermoclese really sounded put out. ¡°I guess that¡¯s reasonable, I just kinda hate it. You know you¡¯re allowed to talk faster, right?¡± The inhabitor - James was pretty sure his name was Em - at least didn¡¯t look like he¡¯d been hoping for a hostile memeplex. ¡°Who else is working on purple totems?¡± He asked in his dull voice. ¡°They may have already been added to our group.¡± ¡±Yeah, you guys have a crowd here, huh?¡± James said. ¡°But no, it¡¯s not people, which is why you might not know about it. Uh, about two weeks ago, after our resident witch built a machine for making pencils on our roof like a proper mad scientist, Momo asked the weird tablet that we have to design a purple orb totem. Apparently it can do that? The loading bar puts the end date at sometime in a couple months, but I wanted you to know that was happening.¡± Thermoclese nodded, then called everyone in for a huddle, quiet conversation moving through the group as they quickly shared their thoughts on the matter with each other. James waited, and instead of listening in, focused on flicking between his newly vibrant vision, and the view from his overhead watchers. It was a good distraction from the wrath of the late August sun. In a minute or two, the group of Researchers broke apart, and Thermoclese turned back to James. ¡°Alright.¡± ¡±Alright?¡± ¡±Yeah, alright. We didn¡¯t know that, so thanks for keeping us clued in. But we¡¯re gonna keep at this.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± James shrugged. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re totally allowed to, I really am just doing confirmations. It¡¯s entirely possible that the tablet will be unusable or something.¡± He looked over at their assembled wood and stone construction, cubes positioned on their edges at what were probably specific distances from each other. ¡°If you¡¯re good here, that¡¯s all that matters.¡± Paper-And-Words bobbed a nod. ¡°Yes. We have decided we will continue. We have two months to win. And if it is not known to detonate, that means we can continue with today¡¯s attempt.¡± ¡±¡­It¡¯s not a race, exactly¡­¡± James tried to tell the camraconda, but Paper-And-Words was already back to helping two other humans measure the diameter of purple orbs, ignoring him. ¡°Hey, uh, Thermoclese? Why is everyone here twitchy about explosions?¡± ¡±Eh? Oh! Yeah, so, we¡¯ve tested it with orange and red totems so far. Turns out, if you try to imbue them? They just blow up.¡± ¡±What¡­ why did you¡­¡± James wasn¡¯t prepared for this. He¡¯d forgotten the kind of people who gravitated toward Research. The last couple hours of checking documents and quick conversations with people in Recovery and other parts of the Order had lowered his guard. ¡°Was there a reason for¡­¡± Thermoclese looked at him with a pitying gaze. ¡°Yeah, we wanted to see what it did. I mean, obviously there¡¯s practical uses to something like a living spatial warp, or an enchanted information source. But either we¡¯re doing something wrong, or there¡¯s conditions for safe applications that we don¡¯t know, or it¡¯s not possible. Probably not the last one. If it weren¡¯t possible, it just wouldn¡¯t work, like purple imbuements.¡± ¡±¡­you mean incepting infomorphs. Assignments.¡± James clarified with a frown. ¡±Yes. Yellow and blue orbs work for imbuements on red and orange totems, but the results are unstable. Purple imbuements don¡¯t work, period. Though we¡¯ll test it all again once we get a purple totem working.¡± She cracked all her knuckles in one quick intersection of her hands. ¡°Alright! I¡¯ve gotta make sure no one breaks anything. You need something else?¡± James had a bad feeling about something she¡¯d told him. ¡°Maybe.¡± He said, turning to stare at the collection of materials that made up their latest attempt to form a geometric totem that would take a purple orb. He didn¡¯t think it would be that easy, and their guesses were probably not going to pay out, but there was something that nagged at him. They¡¯d never seen a purple totem in the wild. Granted, they¡¯d never seen a blue or yellow totem either, and only one red, but still. This was uncharted territory. Except he just had a feeling that something was off about the whole project. Had they had a purple totem before? James felt a cold pooling in his stomach, a distant dread that had no real source that he could determine. Something about this didn¡¯t feel quite right, but all he could come up with to actually say was something that he couldn¡¯t even place the accuracy of. ¡°I don¡¯t think purple totems need to be that big.¡± He said. ¡±Oh yeah? Why¡¯s that?¡± Thermoclese¡¯s eyes widened slightly, and the way she asked the question had heads turning back their way from the others. ¡°Some kind of insight?¡± ¡±No, no.¡± James tried to laugh it off. ¡°Maybe? Just a feeling.¡± A feeling of alien familiarity. ¡°Just be careful, yeah?¡± ¡±Absolutely.¡± Thermoclese gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Hey, no one even got hospitalized when the other tests exploded! That¡¯s kind of a point of pride for us.¡± James interrogated the structure of that sentence. ¡°What about killed?¡± He asked. ¡±No one got hospitalized or killed!¡± Her good mood soured as she gave James an irritated glare. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ve got tests to finish before half these idiots go off to murder god tomorrow, and before a rock replaces all our jobs.¡± He nodded knowingly. ¡°Automation comes for us all, I suppose.¡± He said, reclaiming a sliver of humor, and recalling his drones as he headed a safe distance away from their gathering point. The warmth of the summer day put some comfort back into his blood, especially after a morning spent freezing, but the lingering anxiety stayed with him for a while. James wasn¡¯t sure it was nothing. But he didn¡¯t know what it was. So for now, he¡¯d just have to trust that they weren¡¯t going to end the world while he wasn¡¯t looking. _____ After returning to the Lair, and having a conversation that made James feel a little too much like a very stiff adult where he explained bullying to a ratroach and how to both identify it and stop doing it, James arrived exactly at the time of his appointment at Harvey¡¯s office door. How, exactly, that happened he wasn¡¯t sure. Planner was effective and powerful to the point it was almost worrying, but as far as James knew, the informorph didn¡¯t have the power to alter time itself. And he had been running late. Checking his phone¡¯s clock revealed that he was, in fact, not late. Which meant the most likely outcome was¡­ ¡°Planner don¡¯t mess with my perception to motivate me, please.¡± James said with quiet seriousness. The assignment ever-present inside the Lair didn¡¯t reply, but he was pretty sure Planner had heard him. He didn¡¯t even get to knock before Harvey¡¯s resonant voice was calling through the door for him to come in. So James did just that, shutting the upgraded piece of the basement behind him. The old door had been a heavy metal thing that ¡®came with¡¯ the basement when it was added; the new one was wood, light and mobile, and had a classic frosted glass window. Everyone liked it better. ¡°The schedule has you listed as being here for six minutes. That seems low for the crap you usually bring me. What changed?¡± Harvey looked up at James, and his eyebrows inched upward, jaw working as he took in the new look. ¡°Nice eye. Very metaphorical.¡± He offered. James fingers reflexively went to prod at the edges of still tender skin around his eye socket. ¡°Is it?¡± He asked. ¡°Wait, shit, what did I do? This isn¡¯t gonna be weird, is it?¡± ¡±Nevermind.¡± Harvey didn¡¯t explain further. ¡°What can I do for you?¡± The question galvanized James back into a more comfortable and confident attitude. ¡°Ah, knight captain, the question-¡° ¡±Don¡¯t call me that.¡± ¡±-is not what you can do for me.¡± James was absolutely going to keep calling Harvey that. The man had gone along with the conspiratorial plot to call James ¡®boss¡¯ and put him in charge for long enough that he deserved a little backlash for it. ¡°The question is what I can do for you.¡± He saw Harvey open his mouth to ask that exact question, and shook his head with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m here to let you know that we¡¯ve got a few cool magics that Response could probably make use of.¡± Harvey raise a hand to his chin, fingers framing his mostly controlled goatee. ¡°Do you have a way for us to teleport without worrying about budget, or let us copy responders for a little while?¡± ¡°¡­No. No I do not.¡± James admitted. ¡°I mean, technically the fractal avalanche spell does the copying but it¡¯s not that long term. And the phone that makes an echo of someone¡­ yeah the answer is no.¡± Harvey didn¡¯t bother shaking his head or frowning. The man liked to keep his disappointment quiet; it was a trick he¡¯d picked up from his old life in the business world, and it made a world of difference in how effective it was when he actually told someone he was unhappy. But the truth was, Response needed something extra. The telepads were great, and the ability to rapidly train new people was probably more powerful than someone like James realized. Skulljacks and shield bracers let Responders do their jobs with less fear, which made them calmer and more effective. And the armory of copied dungeontech, even if it was limited, was still consistently saving lives. Hell, just the laser pointer that let you broadcast an emotion was enough to end most problems before they got out of control. And yet it wasn¡¯t enough. Harvey didn¡¯t believe in utopia or a perfect world, he didn¡¯t think there was some ultimate state of order out there that could be chased. And even if he did, he¡¯d probably say they shouldn¡¯t chase it. But he believed in doing better. Doing more. And they were running into the wall where they either needed an expansion that would see Response spilling out to secondary operation centers, which would come with a massive increase in cost as well, or they needed something new. Something game changing. Or both. Response currently handled over three thousand calls a day, which was half of one percent of the US¡¯s daily emergency call count. With something game changing, they might only need a hundred times more people, instead of two hundred. A difference so abstract that Harvey figured only Karen would really care about it. ¡°So what do you have?¡± He asked the paladin standing in his office and refusing the comfortable chairs he¡¯d rescued from the Stacks a month ago, voice as calm as it ever was. James finally sat down. ¡°Mostly it¡¯s the Utah spells. Access is mildly limited right now, but the slots themselves are small, easy to copy, and permanent. So I wanted to run it by you and see if you¡¯d looked at the list yet.¡± ¡°I have not. Highlights?¡± ¡±Short range teleport-ish thing, easy potion use magic, and mental self-control.¡± ¡±You wanna do me a favor and explain that last one?¡± Harvey¡¯s stare bored into James. James gave a nod, lips pursed. ¡°So, I¡¯ve been thinking.¡± He waited a second for the familiar joke, before remembering that Harvey wasn¡¯t really in his friend group and wasn¡¯t going to ask if he¡¯d hurt himself trying. ¡°It¡¯s called mindful reverberation, I¡¯m gonna call it reverb for this chat. And it makes the caster believe the next thing they say out loud.¡± ¡±I¡¯ve been keeping up on the kids we¡¯re taking in, I know this much.¡± Harvey said. ¡°Real problem there. Why do you think we can use it?¡± ¡±I think we should have a long and serious ethics discussion about using it as a requirement for joining Response.¡± James said, holding up his hands defensively before Harvey could continue. ¡°I am not saying anything is wrong! I just finished reading the oversight reports for this month, and you had, what, two incidents out of eighty thousand calls? Actually absurd. In a good way. What I¡¯m saying is, having simple and plainly spelled out directives that everyone agrees to when signing up would go a long way toward creating the foundation of a permanent culture for¡­ well¡­¡± ¡±For law enforcement.¡± Harvey¡¯s voice was almost disbelieving. ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± James focused his eyes on the wall behind Harvey, where a cleanly kept shelf held pictures of people he didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°I¡¯m preparing for a contingency.¡± James said cryptically. ¡°But also, I want your actual opinion. Not right now, but when you¡¯ve had time to think about it and talk to people. Is it wrong, to make an entry requirement for the position that gives people the kind of strength and collective power we do? Is it wrong to ask people to not just say the words, but mean them?¡± Behind his appraising stare, Harvey¡¯s mind moved the information around like puzzle pieces. They could make the spell a disciplinary action. A responder who overused force or showed unhealthy bias could have that behavior corrected directly. But he also quickly saw why James hadn¡¯t even mentioned that; it was too controlling. Too oppressive in its flexibility. There was an elegance in making it something you did when you joined; it meant everyone knew what they¡¯d be getting into. Which meant that for most people, the spell itself would be a formality. People would join who already believed. And people who didn¡¯t believe but wanted to would get exactly what they desired. Also they were sure to find more spellbooks later on, which would make those spell slots more and more useful. ¡±I¡¯ll think about it.¡± He said simply. James just nodded at him. ¡°No rush on that one. I still want to get some long term tests done. Also someone found some headphones that translate everything into M¨¡ori, and we happen to have a language orb for that, so we can maybe use that as a patch for language barriers in the emergency call center. Uh.. what else? I¡¯m pretty sure you know there¡¯s a .mem now for emergency first aid for broken bones?¡± ¡±Yeah, half of Response already ran it, the others are just waiting for the cooldown period on a previous .mem before they get it themselves. A little niche, but when it helps, it really helps.¡± Harvey made a note to himself about the headphones. They were looking for ways to restructure and improve their call intake, though this didn¡¯t seem like his perfect wishlist of some way for people without phones to get their attention. It was still something. Every bit did help. ¡°Anything else?¡± James shrugged. ¡°Not really. There¡¯s more sap available right now, so your potion budget is going way up, but nothing revolutionary. Just wanted to keep you in the loop, and see what you specifically needed.¡± He stood up and almost yawned. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do about making a responder duplicator or something.¡± ¡±¡­Appreciate that.¡± Harvey said as James opened the door and walked out, exactly six minutes after entering. ¡°Sometimes working here scares the shit out of me,¡± he said out loud, ¡°but damned if it isn¡¯t easier.¡± Now, all he needed was a couple orders of magnitude more people, and he could get a real start on making the world safer. _____ That night, James made dinner for his roommates. A simple thing, or at least, it felt simple. But it meant so much to him. His home and his friends meant almost everything to him. And as he centered himself in his little slice of the world, eating chicken and rice and talking about their days, he felt like he could do the whole day of work and effort a hundred times more. Over and over again, if it meant having this. But ten thousand times more if it meant giving this specific mundane magic to the entirety of humanity. The night ended slowly. Alanna vanished off to a late night Response shift, kissing Sarah on the way out. Anesh left with her, two of him going to do some kind of alchemy thing. Zhu, awake for only an hour or so in a kind of reverse nap, dozed back off, assuring James that he was fine and just very tired. And James felt that way himself. Excusing himself from the room, abandoning Sarah to do the dishes with her blessing, so that he could remove a half dozen magical trinkets, shower, and collapse into a bed he had missed more than he¡¯d realized. Sleep took him almost instantly. Which was good. He had plans to try to not kill a god thing tomorrow, and he¡¯d need all the rest he could get. Chapter 309 ¡°But at the end of the day, the most important part is this: Every political position exists somewhere on the spectrum between ''we should work together for the common good'', and ''we should eat each other alive because I''d win''.¡± -Bleu-Blanc-Rouge; In The Grim Darkness Of The 41st Millennium, Nobody Beats G.I. Joe!- ____ James made jokes about killing god from time to time. Casual apostasy that way was just funny to him, but it was, importantly, always a joke. A reference to every anime and RPG and comic where god wasn¡¯t even the final boss fight, and, importantly, it was very little more than that. James wasn¡¯t a believer. He used the words that he¡¯d been told he shouldn¡¯t say while growing up as swears, but he didn¡¯t have any real tangible faith in a higher power. So when he listed his vacation plans as ¡®attack and dethrone god¡¯, what he actually meant was ¡®I dunno, probably gonna hang out with my partners, maybe play a video game for the first time in a year¡¯. He wasn¡¯t actually serious. It was a goof, and a comical declaration of his atheism. Oddly, even the intrusion of the dungeon, and then later dungeons into his daily life hadn¡¯t changed his beliefs. They were weird, sure, but to James, they were no more proof of a higher power than any other bizarre thing on the planet was. Every nature documentary and election cycle did a great job of proving that both nature and the humans that were part of it were fucking weird. That was just the way of things. Partly, that was why he was so annoyed with the Mormons he¡¯d recently encountered. If James did want to make an argument for a divine architect, the existence of massive hidden worlds that mirrored the creations of mankind and gave those brave enough to explore them special gifts was kind of a pretty good argument actually. Especially to someone younger, because James was well aware of the fact that kids operated almost entirely on a sense of what they thought was cool, and dungeons were very cool. The church could have simply called it a miracle, and showed it off as an act of their god, and gotten probably a way better result than trying to use the magic to force people to believe what they were told. Unethical and cruel, sure, but it was also just¡­ just a bad plan. The other thing that could have shaken James¡¯ un-faith was the pillars. Despite all of them seeming to go out of their way to be as non-divine as possible, there was¡­ a feeling to them. James didn¡¯t talk about it much, because what was there to say? It wasn¡¯t just that they were dangerous or powerful or insane or all three together. Even as far back as when they first met Blitzkrieg and didn¡¯t have her proper name, he¡¯d known something set her apart. Something more than just being a master delver or a dungeon boss fight. Looking at a pillar was like looking at the moon. They were timelapses of sunsets, skyscrapers under construction, undiscovered deep sea creatures, and the network of lights of Earth¡¯s nightside seen from space. Even the Right Person At The Right Moment. Even Kiki. It didn¡¯t matter if they were helpful or friendly, there was no way to lose the knowledge of just how vast they were. Depths without end. Summits defined only by imagination. When he saw one, James knew, in both the primal instinctive part of himself, and also in the rational scaffold of civilized thought, that he was looking at something that was only barely a person anymore. Being who he was, and determined to get himself killed by his own terrible comedic timing, James tended to swallow that feeling whenever he was called upon by happenstance to mouth off to a pillar. Which hadn¡¯t happened very often, actually. He didn¡¯t really want to be a jerk to Nick, and the Last Line of Defense - or Nick and Lloyd as James delighted in nicknaming them - hadn¡¯t ever actually talked to him, just to Anesh. Though he was beyond proud of his boyfriend for that whole encounter. And despite his bluster, James had been passive with the Chain Breaker. Because her insanity was obvious. Out in the open erratic madness, bubbling emotions that made her unpredictable, and James had known in that instant that he just needed her to overlook him and not cut him in half. But all the pillars were like that, according to Nick. Mentally compromised, or else on the path to getting there. And while the Order of Endless Rooms didn¡¯t have proof of that¡­ Well, the pillars they¡¯d met didn¡¯t do a great job of convincing anyone otherwise. Except. Now Kiki was here. Kill ¡®Em With Kindness, emphasis on the kindness part it seemed, but more than willing to take part in the kill as well when she felt like she needed to. James hadn¡¯t understood at the time, when they were in that messy skirmish with the Alchemists and a half dozen other factions besides, just what he was looking at when Kiki had fallen from the sky and walked through gunfire without flinching. He hadn¡¯t met enough pillars to recognize the feeling. But he recognized someone who was deadly dangerous, and just because she had a clubhouse full of grandparents playing scrabble didn¡¯t make her any less lethal. The idea that she might lose control of that power, or lose control of herself, made James¡¯ blood turn to ice in his veins without any need for Climb magic. When the woman had asked for help removing herself from the board, the core of James self that had spent the majority of his life fighting to the death with his own suicidality had rebelled instantly. He¡¯d been as polite as he could, but obviously that was not something he would ever help someone with. So he¡¯d agreed to help more generally. And then he¡¯d had time to think. Days that included a lot of quiet moments and hours to himself, where his thoughts could percolate and wander. And he¡¯d wondered, what if it was him? He wasn¡¯t exactly capable of mind wiping people or ripping limbs off with his bare hands, but he might be someday. And what if, with all his supernatural abilities and strengths, he ended up suffering from something like Alzheimer¡¯s? What if he hurt someone because his mind degraded to the point that he didn¡¯t know how not to? James didn¡¯t want to die. But given the choice, he¡¯d take death over becoming that kind of problem for the people around him. And bit by bit he came to understand Kiki¡¯s point of view. If she thought she was losing control, and she had that much power? She was probably more scared of what she could do than James was. So he¡¯d do what he could for her. So would all of the Order. Research and Recovery weren¡¯t exactly flush with free time right now, but people who could be spared were moving to double check on the known effects of her power on her close companions, or setting up a place where they could study her without collateral, or formulating potential tests and acquiring the materials for them. It wouldn¡¯t be especially professional. It¡¯d be rushed and messy. But that was kind of what they had to work with sometimes. So James had kissed Anesh goodbye, gotten a passing high five from Alanna, hugged Arrush and Keeka in turn, and teleported away with a determined group to a small cabin in the forests of Mt Hood that was almost certainly not officially allowed to be there. He had two goals. One was to help an old woman who needed, more than anything, to know that she wasn¡¯t going to hurt anyone. To either help her control her powers, expunge them entirely, or, in the worst case, to have a backup plan for stopping her permanently. There was a voice that was alternately practical or dark depending on how you looked at it that told him that having a favor owed by a pillar would be the item in the Order¡¯s political arsenal for a while. But honestly, he would have done it for no benefit at all. He would have done it by himself if he needed to, though he knew he¡¯d be worse at it; James just wasn¡¯t a very good organized researcher. But he¡¯d still do it. His second goal was to get through the next few hours or maybe days of conversation, testing, and planning, without making a single joke about deicide. _____ On the third day of September, James appeared as part of the first group on a road that seemed to be little more than dried mud. And not even fully dried, either, almost sipping him up as he took the first step toward the cabin surrounded by douglas firs and a couple swinging benches that overlooked a steep slope. The seats, sanded but unvarnished, looked like a woodworking project from the previous resident of the place, and the wide shed nearby that still had a dusting of sawdust out in front of it reinforced that image. The air smelled like pine sap and chill dew, and while James didn¡¯t consider himself a city kid, the shift to a whole different panoply of sounds around him made the place feel not just new but almost alien. He wasn¡¯t totally isolated from nature, he¡¯d heard birds before. But he¡¯d never heard these birds, singing these songs. ¡±Huh. Smells weird.¡± The short ratroach next to James commented, sniffing the air, body twisted around showing off an overly curved spine. ¡°Weirder than I remember anyway.¡± ¡±Reed, why are you still in Kyoo¡¯s body?¡± James asked the Researcher. ¡°I thought you guys wrapped up experimenting with the Least Safe Possible Table a month ago.¡± Reed shook his borrowed head, the lopsided form of chitin and fur moving gingerly as he avoided triggering any hidden pains while they walked. ¡°Longer term tests.¡± He said. ¡°And I volunteered.¡± He closed the quartet of offset eyes he had and inhaled deeply of the mountain air. ¡°It¡¯s not as bad now. And it¡¯s kind of growing on me.¡± ¡±Really.¡± James asked, adjusting his backpack as he walked toward the cabin and glancing sideways at the ratroach form. He wasn¡¯t sure he believed that considering what he¡¯d heard about how most humans handled the level of pain ratroaches tended to be in on a baseline level. The pair of arms mostly on Reed¡¯s left side wrapped filed down claws around the backpack strap he was wearing. ¡°Really. I mean, come on. You think I liked my body?¡± He asked. James looked back behind them at the others following up the road, mostly entangled in their own conversations or complaining about the number of bugs in the air. Bugs that, he noted, were wise enough to avoid Reed entirely. ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t want to¡­¡± ¡±Sure didn¡¯t!¡± Reed said happily. ¡°Hey, you know what? I¡¯m easily distracted and can¡¯t keep a schedule, which makes it really hard to stop being fat. I could have done an exercise potion thing, but that just made me feel stupid, and I had other stuff on my plate. Kyoo¡¯s body hurts, kinda, but it¡¯s manageable, and having a tail is cool. Not being able to reach shelves sucks though.¡± ¡±Is this gonna be a permanent thing?¡± James asked, curious, as they approached the better kept gravel and flat stone path around the expansive front deck of the cabin. ¡°Just so I don¡¯t accidentally tell Kyoo some kind of state secret tomorrow, in the unlikely case that a ratroach who I have talked to ones of times asks me for passwords to the vault or something.¡± Reed made a stilted shrugging motion with the new arm he had. ¡°Maybe? I¡¯ll have to talk to her. See if we want to trade. Besides, shaper substance exists, for some reason. Anyway, that¡¯s not important. You excited?¡± ¡±For whatever is about to go wrong today? Yes.¡± James nodded, stopping to look up at the bits of the sky that could be seen through the canopies of the hundred foot tall trees all around them. His boots made hollow thunks as he ascended the steps of the front porch, followed by a softer impact as he slung his backpack down to the pale wooden slats and turned to lean on the roughly sanded railing, watching the others come in behind them. Not rising to the bait, Reed just let himself into the cabin, followed by the other members of the Order and their gear as they set about unpacking what they wanted to use today. James nodded to people as they passed, faces he recognized but names he often didn¡¯t, the group of them here to meet Kiki and start the process of exploring what she was. The medical team arrived next, another batch of five people carrying equipment that was probably more expensive than everything the preceding group had brought. Deb was busy with something, but she had confidence in the people she sent. They didn¡¯t call themselves doctors, exactly, but James had a suspicion that they could have tested into the role if they needed to. The cabin behind him filled up with voices and the sounds of furniture being moved as he waited outside. The crisp cool air making him glad he¡¯d brought a coat, but also just so refreshing after a long and abnormally hot summer. It was just nice here. Whoever had built the cabin had clearly done so with some modern help, but it was out in the middle of fucking nowhere, and the only thing around really was trees and the rough scrub brush and prickly vines that kept the slopes from eroding. A tiny island of human habitation in a sea of wilderness, only a dirt road that led back to a slightly more stable gravel driveway three miles away, which was itself five miles off from the highway. And the dirt road was going to fade into nothing over time now that the owners of this particular structure were the sort that preferred teleportation to pickup trucks. So James waited patiently, shifting to lean forward in a way that stretched his back out, a happy grin on his face as he caught sight of a bunch of deer idly picking their way through the underbrush. None of the animals cared about him watching, their stick thin legs ably carrying them through the blanket of fallen pine needles and the dull greens and yellows of the plant life, occasionally stopping to nibble on something. None of them reacted when a woman fell from the sky a few hundred feet away on a clear path they couldn¡¯t see from down the slope. James reacted though, his breath hitching slightly in alarm before he remembered that Kiki hadn¡¯t actually said how she was going to meet them here, and that he should technically have remembered how she seemed to deal with long distance travel. She was dressed differently now than when James had met her at her clubhouse. Gone were the loose red blouse and khakis, replaced now by plain black clothing that looked like it was halfway between professional secretary and professional hitman. Her hair was braided with silver charms that clinked and chimed like metal leaves in the wind as she hit the ground. Her eyes, though, were still kind. She was here for a dark reason, but she wasn¡¯t unfriendly. Her landing didn¡¯t even disturb the ground; no matter where she¡¯d actually come from, she didn¡¯t mess things up as she arrived. And James had to struggle not to laugh as, before Kiki could catch her breath and start hauling her duffel bag over toward the cabin that would be her home for at least a few days, all the deer he¡¯d seen a second ago poked their heads through the treeline, curiously approaching with a complete lack of fear to sniff at her arms and hands. The woman sighed and tried to look exasperated as the family of cervids was joined moments later by a pair of heavy grey squirrels, a skunk, eight birds that landed along the arm holding the straps of her bag, and a corn snake that settled on her shoe and looked up at her placidly. ¡±Holy shit.¡± James voice was quiet, but he saw her look up and meet his eyes anyway, the gap of space between them no issue for her ability to hear. ¡°You¡¯re an actual Disney princess.¡± ¡±This is why I don¡¯t go outside.¡± Kiki grumbled as she gently flipped the snake into the bushes, shook the birds off, and walked away from her trailing vanguard of forest creatures. She said it good naturedly though, and there was an almost visible wisp of joy coming off her like steam as she stopped at the bottom of the steps. ¡±I¡¯m just saying, you¡¯re the perfect candidate for a magical girl!¡± James said as he leaned forward on his arms, glad the coat kept the splinters out as he put his weight on the railing. Kiki¡¯s mouth twitched in a smile. ¡°Big talk from a kid who thinks he¡¯s Superman.¡± She retorted. ¡±Hey, I¡¯m Aquaman at most.¡± James defended himself. ¡°You wanna come inside?¡± ¡°Hold your horses. I¡¯ve got something to say first.¡± She tossed her duffel onto the first step and set a gnarled hand on her hip, braided grey hair drifting in the light wind behind her. ¡°I know what kind of person you are.¡± She started. ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to kill anyone. I know you think you can save me.¡± James nodded. ¡°I do.¡± He said. ¡°Or¡­ well, I think we should try.¡± ¡±And what happens when you can¡¯t?¡± Her voice was rough, raspy in the same way James¡¯ grandmother¡¯s had been. ¡°What happens then?¡± Meeting the stare of the thing that wasn¡¯t a god but sure felt like an insurmountable force of nature, James took a long breath of the fresh pine air, holding it in until his lungs felt like they were stretching to their limit. ¡°Then we try something else.¡± He said gently. ¡°Then we keep trying. We already have an outline for safety protocols to keep people rotating in here, so no one gets exposed too much to your changes, just in case. We¡¯ll find ways to contain your magic, or protect ourselves. We¡¯ll find a way to help you.¡± ¡±And if you can¡¯t?¡± She pressed. James turned a hand over, looking down at his open palm that was starting to collect new scars again. ¡°Then I¡¯ll try to kill you.¡± He said with the same tone. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it. About what we know, and what we¡¯ve seen. If you start to lose control, really lose control? Then I promise I will stop you.¡± He said. Inside, someone made a joke and a few people laughed. Overhead, the green boughs of the trees swayed in the wind. Ten miles away, people drove by on the way to work or family vacations or trucking route deliveries. Nearby, a family of deer eyed a woman that didn¡¯t seem like a human and wondered if she was some kind of delicious new plant. Kiki and James appraised each other silently. And then, after either a minute or an hour, she nodded and her shoulders sagged. ¡°Thanks kid.¡± She said in an old and weathered voice. ¡±But we¡¯re gonna try to help first.¡± James reminded her. ¡±I know. Don¡¯t wanna keep you in the dark, but I¡¯ve been spying on your own clubhouse.¡± She was smiling again, and said the words bluntly, but James felt like she was secretly hoping that he¡¯d absolve her of her guilt for the action. He just nodded. ¡°Yeah, we figured. Kind of a jerk move, but I get that you needed to see who we were without us having a chance to curate.¡± He pushed himself upright and turned toward the front door. ¡°You need help with your stuff? Everyone else is already here and some of them are worryingly eager to meet you.¡± ¡±If you start a cult, I¡¯m getting the hell out of Dodge.¡± ¡±If they start a cult, I¡¯m gonna ask you to take me with you.¡± James deadpanned. _____ First, there were medical tests. The standard battery of things that were common at checkups, including bloodwork. And then more blood draws when the medical team realized that they were getting different blood every time. Kiki had been apologetic, but just as curious as everyone else. And the event prompted her being asked what it was that let her change her form like she did. Like all pillars did, it seemed. And that led to the floodgates opening on questions in general. There were a few planned tests and theories for the next few days, but the thing about having a test subject who was a living maybe-still-human person was that you could ask her questions. Not just to get answers, but to get her own opinions, input, and questions back in turn. So the first couple hours after the checkup were spent in conversation about what exactly Kiki already knew, and what they all wanted to learn. What was up with the shapeshifting? She didn¡¯t know. It was new to her, too. But it led to a longer explanation about how Kiki had increasingly felt like she was an alien in her own skin over the last year. Which apparently she was if her blood type was changing with every test they did. As for her outer appearance, to her - and also James and some other members of the Order - it had begun to appear as if she had a motley patchwork of other people that would sometimes replace bits and pieces of her body. But to everyone else, especially normal people with no magic at all, there was never any comment on it. Even in the room full of people who were deeply involved in the Order, some of them couldn¡¯t tell that it was going on even when the skin of her face rippled and shifted. So they spent some time double checking what everyone saw her as, and that was when James started to realize that most people probably never actually saw a pillar¡¯s true self. Because while the majority of people described her as grandmotherly, it became clear quickly that in the details they were seeing different faces. Especially amusing was that the two camracondas present today described someone who, if you didn¡¯t know any better, would have matched up with a description of Karen. Even if they insisted she didn¡¯t look like Karen, the broad strokes were all the same. So that power was a mystery on its own. There didn¡¯t seem to be any rhyme or reason to who could see through the unwilling facade, only that the ratio was in favor of ¡®no¡¯. But it brought them to the next question. What, exactly, could Kiki do? The old human had taken a deep breath, swirled the water around the fancy blue frosted glass that she wasn¡¯t drinking out of, and then tried to give a list. And it had very, very quickly become clear that she didn¡¯t know the limits of what she could do, because she could do so much that she regularly forgot her own powers. She could heal. Not just broken bones, but almost anything. Though every distinct form of healing was something different and ¡®felt separate¡¯ to her, but she could do them anyways. She could follow connections of friendship and favor between people, and use them to spy or communicate. She could change someone¡¯s mind if she had a good point to make, which might not be magic, but probably was given how people resisted having their minds changed. All those were on her danger list. Healing infected people with her magic, especially deep healing. Watching didn¡¯t seem like a problem, but communicating ¡®shook out the friendship¡¯ according to her, and she didn¡¯t like messing with people that way. And anything that looked like mind control she shut away so hard that she tried to not convince anyone of anything directly these days. That was what worried her. What didn¡¯t was strange in comparison. She was stronger and faster than a human should be, and when they tested that afterward she showed it by bending a steel bar one handed. She could get almost anywhere, though the way she did it was by flinging herself into the sky and ¡®following the thread of people who needed her¡¯. Testing that specific power later that night just created more questions because she literally disappeared as she ascended and reappeared on the way down. Sending drones along to watch showed a thin bubble of tension in the air that she slipped through, so Kiki was kind of making her own hole in reality. But not a portal; there was a lot of delay in each jump. Stolen story; please report. And then there was what she just knew. Kiki had grown up as a bit of a tomboy, but her adult life had been spent as a housewife and mother. Her adventures as a grandparent had included taking an ikebana class and going on cruises. But now, despite a peaceful life, she could identify and skillfully use every weapon without a second thought. But it also extended in another direction too; she knew every single cookie recipe humanity had ever used as comfort food. She knew the original recipe for what was thought to be the first cookie in the 7th century, and she knew the secret other beginning of the treat from two thousand years before then when a child happened upon it and gave the results to his sister before his master beat him for wasting food. There might have been more farther back, but connections got more distant at that range, she said. She could also walk through a museum and know the name of everyone who had held the weapons on display, and their reasons for fighting with them, if there was even a hint of compassion to their purpose. She could also exchange how nice people thought she was for physical wounds. For some reason, this bothered her a lot less than everything else. All of this, though, left her touch on people. Either those close by, or those she was actively using her abilities on. And her power changed people. Slowly, in small ways perhaps, but it did change them all the same. It didn¡¯t sand away rough edges in a personality, but it made those edges more focused; it made people kind. And, at the same time, it also made people more decisive. Not unafraid, not heroic, but it instilled an attitude of not flinching away from danger or violence. That, James noticed instantly, was a lie by omission. Kiki was holding something back. But he didn¡¯t press, because it was the first hours of the first day, and she didn¡¯t trust them yet, and that was okay. They weren¡¯t in a hurry. The last thing she could do - or knew she could do anyway - was make magic items. And that was absurd, because she described it in a way that was, more than anything any of the knights of the Order had ever seen, magic. She bottled favors, and turned them into friendship bracelets that connected people in a hundred special ways. She captured animosity aimed at her and reshaped it into weapons that could damage anything but flesh. She stole weapons of importance to their wielder, and made the leaf shaped charms that adorned her braided hair, each of them ready to shatter to block an attack. Before they would put themselves back together later, of course. And none of those caused her magic to seep out. She had a powerful and precise sense for where all her magic was at any given time, and that was both dulled for any dungeontech - pillartech? - she made, and a great way to know that it didn¡¯t leak. They group, sitting around on wicker chairs and couches that had familiar worn IKEA cushions stacked on what seemed to be handmade frames, started working up a list of more specific tests to test the limits of that specifically. This was also the start of the codified wishlist; they needed a way to detect magic on their own. They couldn¡¯t rely on the woman who was their voluntary test subject to also be their primary piece of equipment. That might be a problem though. Dungeons seemed stubbornly resistant to meta-effects. So a magic detector started the list, followed quickly by resistant or absorptive materials for Kiki¡¯s extra unwilling effects. Which led to the point that they might already have those and not know it. Hell, something as mundane as copper might act as a buffer for magic, and they¡¯d never know. But now they could. When the conversation got deeper into the problem of her magic seeping out, Kiki reminded them that whenever she was hurt - or ¡®killed¡¯ - the problem was much worse. More potential tests were added to the list, because apparently the woman was sternly accepting of the idea of being damaged for the sake of learning more about how to combat her condition. And then someone asked the question. The one that hadn¡¯t exactly been avoided, but had been pushed to the side as they asked about abilities and personal health and the things Kiki had already tried herself. The question that was at the core of every question about the pillars. The question that needed answering. ¡±How did you end up like this?¡± _____ ¡°When I was younger,¡± Kiki began, ¡°I wanted to be an astronaut. I lived through the whole space race, you know? And when we landed on the moon for the first time¡­ well heck, kids. It felt like we did it. We accomplished something big. And I wanted to be part of that.¡± She paused only briefly. ¡°I knew I never would. I was too old to start training then, even if I could have afforded it or if they¡¯d take a gal at all. But I remember the feeling. The inspiration of it all, and the way that it made my heart beat and my eyes shine. Oh, back in those days, everyone was terrified of the Russkies ending the world, but for just that one moment, there was no fear. Just this amazing thing.¡± She smiled as she stared out the dirty window of the cabin, into the still green scenery beyond. Not lost in her memories, but visiting for a time. ¡°My mother was already on the decline, her heart wasn¡¯t doing well. Every time I talked to her she¡¯d say she was on her last legs, then laugh, and keep going. I came home to watch those first steps with her, too. Oh, you could hear the whole neighborhood cheering when it happened, I swear. And while we were sitting there in her kitchen, feeling all that stupified hope, she turned to me and said ¡®that¡¯s how you do it Kiki. That¡¯s the way you get em.¡¯.¡± The smile she was wearing was a faraway thing. A half century in the past, but grinning like it was yesterday. ¡°She was dead the next day. And when I found her, she was still smiling. That woman was a force, I tell you. The orneriest, grumpiest, rudest bastards just couldn¡¯t break her down. Give her a month and enough baking powder and she could turn any rude man into a fellow worth having. More magic than I ever was, I¡¯ll say.¡± Her smile didn¡¯t fade, though the shape of her lips slid into another different face as she spoke. ¡±She didn¡¯t tell me I had to be like her. But she showed me how right she was every day. It¡¯s been fifty five years and I miss her every day.¡± Kiki wiped the corner of her eye and breathed softly, the population of the room shifting quietly as they raptly listened to the story of her life. ¡°And then life picked up and went on. And I had an alright one, but you don¡¯t need to know the details. What you do need to know is that I was my mother¡¯s daughter, and I never forgot how she raised me. Even when I got old, and started dying, and even when everyone else failed me and stuck me in the cheapest hospice they could find.¡± The smile was gone now, and she was rubbing at her chest without realizing it. Memories of good times passing into memories of exhaustion, medical malpractice, and pain. ¡°Suffered what I could for a while, but I was on the way out. I told your boy here,¡± she inclined a bony chin toward James, ¡°a little bit, but let me tell you. There¡¯s nothing like pain to make you angry.¡± The camracondas and non-Reed ratroach, as well as a good chunk of the humans in the room nodded silently and knowingly at the words. ¡°But dreaming about throwing your nurse out the window is different from doing it.¡± Kiki laughed with a bitter little tone that ran up and down the register as a dozen voices overlapped her own. ¡°I remember dying, or being so close it didn¡¯t matter. No light, no pearly gates, but I was outta here kids. And my last thought was going to be how pissed I was that I didn¡¯t even get an aspirin for it. But all of a sudden, things were different.¡± She stood and paced around to behind her chair, staring out the glass door to the back deck of the cabin that overlooked a steep slope down into a forested ravine. Still staring out the window, she kept talking. ¡°It was like someone put the whole world in my brain, and told me to pick part of it. Oh, I had no clue what it was; thought I was having one last wild ride before my old bones gave out. But I remember that witch of a nurse was there, and I remember thinking that maybe I could dream of her head popping off if I tried.¡± Another little laugh. ¡°And then I thought that maybe, maybe my mother was right. Not that I ever didn¡¯t believe in her anyway. But maybe if I had to pick some final thought, it should be to thank her for her help, go out with a nice word, and Kill ¡®Em With Kindness.¡± The words rippled through the room, and a brief brush of something moved across the people present before being hauled away. ¡°Whoops. Sorry there.¡± Kiki said, crushing her distracted magical leak. ¡±Here¡¯s the meat and potatoes though. It wasn¡¯t because I was dying. I didn¡¯t keep much, but I know that at least. It was just a coincidence.¡± She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. ¡°Whatever happened, it was because something landed on me. Not like your alien friends here,¡± Kiki gestured to the nonhumans in the room, ¡°I mean something spooky. I¡¯d call it an angel if I thought it was alive. I don¡¯t know where it came from, and I¡¯ve always been afraid to go back and check to see if I can find out, but it was from somewhere, and I think it was heading here on purpose.¡± She sighed and changed tones, like she was wrapping up her explanation. ¡±Well, that was it, as you might have guessed. I was dying, then I was this. Just got out of bed and walked out. Oh, I thanked that nurse too, and she fainted on me. Making more work even then. I figured out right there that I was stronger than I should be when I caught her and stuck her in my bed before leaving.¡± She sucked in a breath through crooked teeth. ¡°And then I faded away. Maybe it was what I thought I was supposed to do, and the magic made it happen. I couldn¡¯t say. I was there, but I wasn¡¯t there, if you take my meaning. A couple few years of that. Being a ghost, pulled along without really focusing on anything. Thoughts all tangled up, with no good way to sort them out. I don¡¯t remember how I did come back to my senses, either, mind you. There¡¯s a feeling of a shadow or a reflection, maybe? And then I was standing in a room halfway up some New York skyscraper staring at a water cooler wondering where I¡¯d been for my whole life.¡± She shrugged, an oddly familiar motion. ¡°And then¡­ I didn¡¯t know what to do. Tried to go back to living, but it felt so different and wrong. Wandered around for a while. Eventually ended up back at home.¡± The little smile came back as she turned around and set a hand on the back of the chair. ¡°It turns out you can go home again, it¡¯ll just be different. So I found a few people I used to know and restarted the Grandparent¡¯s Society. Some old friends, some of their kids, something to keep me invested. And then their grandkids. And sometimes another link down the line. Turns out when you can keep people you like alive for longer, you end up with a lot of great grandparents. My own great grandson doesn¡¯t know about me really, but I keep an eye out.¡± Someone started to raise a hand as the math began to come into focus, and Kiki clicked her tongue, cocking a finger their direction. ¡°You figured it out, huh? Yeah, I wasn¡¯t young where my gabbing about my life started. Just had a birthday, I¡¯ll let you guess how old I am, but it¡¯s closer to a hundred than you¡¯d think. No one better start singing, I¡¯ve heard that damned tune enough for two lifetimes.¡± Her smile turned smug and she waggled her eyebrows at her own joke until someone - James - snorted out a laugh. ¡°Anyone want to guess how many times I¡¯ve died?¡± She said with the cadence of a game show host. No one did. ¡°Sixteen. Not from old age or heart attack, after I¡­ changed. But I wasn¡¯t ever much of a fighter before and I haven¡¯t gotten good at it now. Before I learned I could make the charms, and before I figured out how fast I was, I got into a lot of trouble. I can¡¯t ignore things, that¡¯s the important thing you need to know. If someone¡¯s a rude little brat, I¡¯ll be a ray of sunshine on ¡®em. If someone¡¯s kind despite the world, then I feel like I¡¯ve gotta help ¡®em. I can¡¯t turn a blind eye if it¡¯s something important to me. If I do, I get¡­¡± She trailed off, staring down at the back of hands that were moving between different finger lengths. ¡°I lose myself. Bit by bit. If I try to ignore a problem, then I¡¯ll forget why I wanted to ignore it and run straight into it anyway, except I won¡¯t be thinking while I do it. It¡¯s like it¡¯s a current in the river, and I can either steer into it, or get thrown in the rapids, but I can¡¯t get out of the water.¡± ¡±That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. That¡¯s why I need your help. I¡¯m not getting better at steering. I¡¯m falling apart, and holding it all together feels harder and harder every day. I wish I could tell you how it happened, but I barely remember that.¡± She met James¡¯ eyes. ¡°Your boy here says you want to heal me, and kiddos, I respect that. I really do. I¡¯ll do what I can for you in return, because you all seem like you¡¯ve had a hard time of it and you¡¯ve earned a little break. But I¡¯m old. And I¡¯m tired. And I¡¯d rather see it all end before I hurt someone when I get tugged into another mess. And these days, everything feels less and less stable with each check on the calendar.¡± There was a long stretch of silence, with only the sounds of birds outside and a couple pens scratching on paper to fill it. And then Kiki sighed deeply and sat down again, moving more like she was the old woman that her body made her appear as and less like a force of nature that could probably flatten the whole building without breaking a sweat. ¡°But you asked how I ended up like this? I can tell you one thing I know in my bones.¡± She looked up at James, before sweeping her eyes around to meet everyone else¡¯s, making sure they were paying close attention. ¡°Something changed me. And whatever did it, I don¡¯t think it stopped with me. Sometimes I feel what I think is that sensation of being the whole universe again, but it¡¯s far off in the distance. It¡¯s like it¡¯s a tingling fire just out of sight. And I¡¯ve always been too afraid to go see what it was. And also¡­ I don¡¯t think it was on purpose.¡± She picked up her glass of water, untouched for her whole speech, and drained it in a sustained gulp. ¡°You know I used to think this life was a curse. But you know what else?¡± ¡±God, I would have felt so much worse if that awful, awful woman of a nurse got it instead of me.¡± _____ They took a break after that. James found himself sitting out back, getting cold from the wind that was picking up, and wondering what the hell he was doing here. They hadn¡¯t even gotten to anything more than basic medical screenings, and Kiki demonstrating the process of converting a battered if well cared for hunting knife into one of her charms and back. The knight who had volunteered it for the example decided to keep it as the charm, wearing his old weapon as a shield that he planned to get a little silver chain for later. Which was cool and all, but it just made James feel more and more out of his depth. What the hell was he supposed to helping with here, he wondered. He didn¡¯t feel like an idiot or anything; a hundred skill ranks had brought him to a level of baseline competence in so many different fields that he actually felt like he was the ultimate cosmopolitan. But when people started discussing methodology for tests for determining what material compositions stopped magic the best, James felt like he was going to go crosseyed from trying to focus on the chart taking shape on the whiteboard. James could help out by trying to custom make dungeontech for them, but he doubted that he was going to be able to make something that could sense magic at all. He¡¯d tried. Everyone in the Order who was interested in blue imbuement had tried. A magic item - or even just magic full stop - finder would be the single most valuable thing they would have. Some things got close, like the affiliation glasses that glitched when used on dungeon life and caused migraines, or the glasses that showed how much time something would waste that let you pick out dungeontech by how problematic it was, and also caused migraines. The Office magic sure seemed to cause a lot of migraines. James would look into that later, when his head hurt less. He could be around to help provide security, maybe. But they were in the middle of a forest on the side of a mountain, and if anyone was tracking Order operations and was gleeful at the opportunity to strike at them while Planner wasn¡¯t obfuscation the building, then they¡¯d be a little disappointed that the demigod making small talk with Paper-And-Words was currently both here, and on the Order¡¯s side. So any pretense of protecting this cabin was firmly an affectation. He could cook? That sounded like something he could do to help. Assuming Kiki didn¡¯t get to it before him; she seemed like the kind of person who reveled in the simple act of feeding people. Which James understood, but it would also leave him completely out of a job. It also assumed that none of the dozen other people here knew how to feed themselves, and while he was prepared to believe that applied to Reed and maybe the newer guy from Research who looked like he was a delicate twig, James was confident that at least one of the people in the wooden cabin knew how to assemble a sandwich. Or that they hadn¡¯t just brought a copy of the lunchbox of holding lunch, filled with enough food to not worry about it. So in the complete absence of something useful to contribute right now aside from a slightly different perspective, James sat on the back porch with a copy of the mindful reverberation spellbook, planning to test it out on himself so they could better understand how far the self-mind control could go. He was about halfway through the twenty minute requirement, trying to forget that he didn¡¯t have a useful role there, when someone interrupted him. ¡±Moral support.¡± Kiki said, sitting down on the bench next to him and settling forward on her bony legs. ¡±Buh?¡± James asked, displaying his mastery of the English language and losing his progress entirely as he looked up. ¡±You¡¯re here for moral support.¡± She told him. ¡°Someone needs it.¡± He looked back through the cabin¡¯s window, dirty glass that hadn¡¯t really been a priority for the last owner giving him a warped view of the interior where people had broken into groups and were making lists of things they¡¯d want shipped in, deciding who would be staying here long term and who would be heading back later. ¡°These goofs all seem like they¡¯re excited and energized to be here.¡± He commented. Kiki reached over and patted him on the shoulder. ¡°I meant me, kiddo. But thanks for thinking highly of the old lady.¡± James¡¯ laugh slipped out so abruptly he hurt his throat. ¡°Ahhhh¡­ okay, that got me.¡± He said, shaking with a silent breath of amusement. They sat quietly, watching the trees, before James spoke up again. ¡°I wanna say thanks.¡± He said. ¡±For the charm? I¡¯ll be doing a heck of a lot more than that before we¡¯re done here, I¡¯d wager.¡± Kiki said with a smile. ¡°Appreciate the gratitude though.¡± ¡±No, for just¡­ telling us so much outright.¡± James sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve talked to people who feel like you before, you know? I mentioned it when we met. Pillars, they call themselves, though I¡¯m starting to think that¡¯s an organization and not a designation.¡± He rubbed at his eyes, trying to figure out why he was so tired even though he¡¯d actually gotten a full four hours of sleep last night and then realizing how stupid that thought was. ¡°You filled in a lot of gaps.¡± ¡±Wanna share with the class?¡± She was still smiling, but James could sense a tension, and see her form shifting in what might be a pillar form of an anxiety response. He nodded. ¡°Nick¡­ well, he¡¯s The Right Person At The Right Moment, really. I had a chat with him a little while back, and he made a comment that none of the pillars were sane. And I sort of got the impression that he was talking about being worn down by his role in things. Later, Aku - Necessary Evil, he¡¯s kind of a jerk - gave us another clue that pillars don¡¯t really get to choose if they do what their names say they do.¡± James set his mouth in a tight line as he gave Kiki a sideways glance, trying not to make it too much about pity. ¡°And then you tell us you get pulled along, and¡­¡± ¡±And you see more of the whole picture.¡± She sighed. ¡°Is that why you agreed to help?¡± She said, and when she said ¡®help¡¯ she meant ¡®kill me¡¯. ¡°Because you know I¡¯m going to end up out of my gourd?¡± James winced, but nodded. ¡°Yeah, sort of.¡± He said with blunt honesty. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s a lens into why you need help. I would have helped anyway.¡± And when he said ¡®help¡¯, he meant it without any other undertone. ¡°You know they¡¯re probably going to want to test how strong that pull is, and how it affects you to resist it, right?¡± He asked. ¡°I can stop that right now, if it¡¯s a problem.¡± ¡±Oh I¡¯ll live.¡± Kiki said with a magnanimous wave of a hand. ¡°Just have to warn everyone to stay clear. Just in case.¡± ¡±Mh hm.¡± James wasn¡¯t convinced, but he let it drop. ¡°Anyway. Knowing you can make magic items is weird. I assume the other pillars can do that too. It¡¯s close enough to how dungeons work that I also wonder if they can share powers. And that leads to the worrying question of if Camille - you¡¯d like Camille I think by the way.¡± ¡±I like everybody!¡± Kiki gave a raspy laugh. James laughed back. ¡°No you do not!¡± He countered with a grin. ¡°Just cause I¡¯m neurodivergent and in my thirties doesn¡¯t mean I have no attention span! I listened to your story!¡± He shook his head, letting the smile drop. ¡°Anyway. Cam is someone that the Last Line Of Defense used as a soldier for a while. And now I worry that she¡¯s got some of his magic in her, and he knows exactly where she is. Her and her sisters, who are currently sitting in my secret city.¡± ¡±¡­You know, I¡¯ve been spying on you, doing a whole lot of snooping,¡± Kiki said with dry humor, ¡°and you still manage to say these things that make my head spin. Where are you hiding a whole city?¡± ¡±Tennessee.¡± James answered instantly. ¡±How?¡± ¡±Cleverly.¡± ¡±Har har.¡± James smiled as he pulled his coat tighter against a gust of wind, which didn¡¯t help much. He was pretty sure there was a purple orb for staying warm, and he made a point to check when he got back, because whatever genetics his parents had passed down to him, surviving winters in the Pacific Northwest was not part of them. ¡°But yeah.¡± He brought the conversation back to his point. ¡°If nothing else, just learning from each other is valuable. So thank you.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t thank me yet kiddo. You don¡¯t know if I¡¯m about to end up as nuts as the other fellas like me.¡± Kiki pointed out. ¡°And what then? When I turn into a monster that can¡¯t do anything but be nice and murder people?¡± ¡±Honesty?¡± James started She cut him off. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that sounds like a good monster.¡± Her weathered voice was irate. ¡±I¡¯ve met worse monsters, is all I¡¯m saying!¡± James shrugged. ¡°Besides, typically, people or monsters who are actual problems kind of show up in my life like natural disasters. You didn¡¯t do that, so, statistically, you¡¯re fine and I¡¯m comfortable enough with the absurdly powerful old lady being a little dangerous sometimes.¡± ¡±You¡¯re too pure and stupid for this world.¡± Kiki said with a friendly lilt to her words. James didn¡¯t take it personally. ¡°I¡¯m half joking, so you¡¯re half wrong.¡± He told her. ¡°But really, what am I supposed to do if you snap and decide to hurt us? Ask nicely for you to not turn the mountain into a crater?¡± ¡±If I did that it¡¯d probably knock me out for a little while, at least. And if you asked nicely for me not to and I did anyway, it might¡­ well I don¡¯t know what could kill me, but we might want to try that.¡± She said after thinking about it for a little too long. Which was at least a good thing to know. ¡°You sure seem anxious to get out of here, that¡¯s all I¡¯m trying to say.¡± Kiki¡¯s sudden backtracking almost threw James off the whole conversation. ¡°What¡¯d you rather be doing?¡± For a split second, James felt himself start to say ¡°Anesh¡± before he caught the word and choked it back. But raised eyebrow smirk that Kiki gave him made him think that maybe listening in on his inner monologue was a power of hers. ¡°Okay, real answer?¡± He sighed. ¡°Helping fix up a natural history museum in my secret city. Or maybe going to explore a dungeon. Trying to find some new magic so I can catch up to being able to resist people like you if I need to. Or, hell, I could go scout the place you failed to die, if you know the address. Or whatever new fire needs putting out.¡± ¡±Life¡¯s like that.¡± Kiki coughed when she tried to sigh. ¡°The problems are always knocking on your door. Why don¡¯t we ever get to go cause trouble for them?¡± ¡±I think we¡¯re supposed to be better than that, but I sure don¡¯t feel it.¡± James said, finding it amusing that he was waxing poetic and practically reminiscing about the past with someone who was sixty years older than him. ¡°I feel like I want to go find a problem and ruin it¡¯s day unexpectedly and unannounced and then vanish.¡± He pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking it quickly for a text that would never arrive here in the mountains where cell service was only accessible via a convoluted magic item that stored internet connection that James wasn¡¯t holding. Kiki looked over his shoulder at the blank screen. ¡±What?¡± She asked. ¡±Just kind of expected something there.¡± James replied. ¡°It¡¯s been that kind of life lately.¡± ¡±Maybe they need your help and you¡¯ll get the message when you get home.¡± She offered kindly. And then, there was a small wash of warmth and the feeling of the perfect birthday gift, followed by Kiki¡¯s smile getting brittle and annoyed as her pillar magic worked itself out into the atmosphere. ¡°Someone is trying to get ahold of you. Go on kid, get out of here. I can handle being around these weirdos for a few days.¡± ¡±They¡¯re not that bad.¡± James jumped to his companion¡¯s defense. ¡±I know you¡¯re dating one of them, but I know you know the bug-rat fella is just the strangest species.¡± James laughed as he stood up, wedging the paperback spellbook into his pocket to take with him. ¡°Kiki, that¡¯s not even in the top five for me. And besides, the ratroach here today is actually a human. They¡¯re just trading bodies for a little for testing purposes.¡± ¡±You¡¯re leaving something out.¡± She accused him. ¡±Sure am.¡± James nodded. ¡°Ask Reed. I¡¯m gonna let them know I¡¯m leaving and vanish before I end up getting roped into building boxes out of twenty different materials that you¡¯re not supposed to use to build boxes.¡± He¡¯d seen the checklist that the research team was making. And he¡¯d take any other project over that. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he offered Kiki a hand up, which she took, the feeling of her skin warm and rough but also inescapably massive. Like there was a whole other mountain present, hiding in the shadow of this one woman. He went back through the cabin, confirmed that they did have a packed lunch-space, nodded along to the long term testing plan they had for seeing if there was an option for draining or siphoning away magic from a concentrated source without being able to detect that magic, and then headed out. James was a problem solver. Given enough time, he could solve this problem. But he was applying a practical leadership skill he¡¯d picked up all on his own. He¡¯d taken ten very smart people, who were curious about the world, and put them in front of the problem. Then he¡¯d told them to have fun, and given Kiki a friendly mostly joking warning. And he had to remind himself anyway that this was solving the problem. And that twiddling his thumbs here wouldn¡¯t be as important as just coming by to have direct conversations, update the non-pillar on things, and get her unique take on the different things the Order had discovered. He felt the weight of her presence as he left, but James was actually one of the people who had an easy time just talking to her like a person, and he was pretty sure they both appreciated that. The whole thing left him feeling mixed when he teleported back to the Lair, and all his messages showed up telling him that they¡¯d confirmed that the Mormons had stopped their tracking of Lincon, and that they were ready and willing to head down to sneak into the dungeon whenever James gave the word. He would have to start reminding people that there were other paladins they could ask now, for when he was hiding up in the mountains, but not right now. Right now, he had a dungeon to explore, and a new horizon to see, and he was happy. Chapter 310 ¡°Well. I suppose this was the wrong company to unveil ancient occult secrets in and expect to be impressive.¡± -Count Saint Germaine, Castlevania- _____ North Smiths Utah was exactly as James had left it. Normal. Perfectly suburban. Sprawling housing developments separated from any vital services or even basic grocery stores by main roads that may as well be impassable rivers to residents that didn¡¯t own cars. Boring. How strange that a place that held two dungeons, and dungeons existing in a unique phenomena at that, could be so dull. The city had seen multiple firefights last month, it was the source of a new species that seemed to be having an internal theological schism, and even with how spread out the people were it was still obvious that the streets were a little emptier than normal. And yet, life continued. It had to. James knew some of the people driving past, going to work or church or doctor¡¯s appointments or whatever else, they would have lost someone. There would be family missing, or kids would have friends that had dropped off the map or gotten distant, or even just face they were used to seeing wouldn¡¯t be at work anymore. Some of them would be getting recruitment pitches. Some would be saying yes, and adding to the list of the missing. But everyone, eventually, had to get back up and get back to living. He¡¯d been there. He understood. Maybe not exactly the same way, and maybe some of the people here would resent him making the comparison when in some cases he was the reason for the disruptions in their lives, but he knew in painful detail just how hard it was to get out of bed after a loss and keep moving. And James respected the collective strength it took a community to keep going through even small upheavals. He watched the road that separated his group from their destination, sitting outside a Starbucks at a wobbly metal table and sipping a drink that was way too sweet as he mused. He¡¯d been quiet for a little while, mostly keeping a focus on the surrounding area through his eyes and drones, and letting the kids chat. The rogues reported that the main active group down here wasn¡¯t tracking any of them, but, it didn¡¯t hurt to be careful. So James waited and drank his mocha while the impulsive and possibly terrible decision he¡¯d brought along hung out. Lincon and Emma were from here. Both born in Salt Lake City, but having moved to North Smiths as young kids and then grown up here. They were obviously very close friends, and while Liam, the third person that had been part of their delver team, had opted to stay far the fuck away from this state, the two of them had volunteered to show James to their own secret entrance to the merging dungeons. They weren¡¯t quite awkward in James¡¯ presence, but what they were was guarded. They held back information about spells he knew they had at some point, or possibly still had. Because they didn¡¯t fully trust the Order yet. They also feigned politeness, which was hilarious. James knew through Morgan that they were, despite whatever magical oaths they¡¯d been pressured into, they were still teenagers. And that meant they were often mean, sometimes completely by accident, sometimes less so. But not while James was here. Because he was the outsider, sort of. The unknown factor in the room. James had seen this before. He was cool with it. They could trust when it was earned, that was the only way their trust would ever matter. So he didn¡¯t press them too hard. But he did keep in mind that they were both delvers with a lot more experience than most kids. Including the other two kids he¡¯d brought along. One of whose was Morgan, who was currently talking openly with Lincon about how weird it was to watch cartoons that had been around before they were born. When James realized they were talking about the Simpsons, he decided he was going to throw himself into the dungeon and let it eat him. The other was Color-Of-Dawn, who, because the group was making at attempt at stealth, was currently folded up in a large duffel bag under the table and talking to Emma through a phone sitting on the table. James was pretty sure Color was only coming along because Morgan was, and he wasn¡¯t quite sure that bringing Morgan at all was a good idea. But it was just a quick exploration. A test. And Morgan wasn¡¯t stupid; he¡¯d survived way worse than dipping in and out of a dungeon. So James had extended the offer since it could be a good opportunity. The conversation lapsed as James refocused on sweeping the area around them from overhead, his skulljack braid once again an improved model from the engineering team in the basement. It seemed like half the improvements were just ¡®we found connector cables that work better¡¯, but¡­ well, that was an improvement. The other half was when they made or grew or a mix of both better programs to improve functionality. As James had run into repeatedly, the human brain just wasn¡¯t very good at instinctively knowing how to do stuff when plugged into it, and intermediary programs designed to have giant glowing levers and switches to think about flipping helped a lot. All this was to say he was getting good at moving two drones at the same time without losing a lot of focus. And while there were people around them, he could easily sweep and see that there was no suspicious behavior. They weren¡¯t being watched, or followed, or approached, or stalked. Which left him open to hearing Morgan ask the others ¡°So, can you tell us about the place?¡± ¡±No.¡± Lincon and Emma said at the same time, before Lincon kept talking. ¡°Both of them have stuff that stops you talking. The garage just keeps your words from getting to people. But the garden makes you forget if you try to say too much.¡± ¡±It¡¯s really annoying.¡± Emma confirmed with a nod. ¡°It doesn¡¯t¡­ doesn¡¯t¡­¡± she blinked and looked down at where her hands were picking at the plastic lid of her drink. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Lincon pointed at her with a slim finger. ¡°Like that!¡± He said. The moment got a worried chuckle from Morgan and a quiet check from Color to see if Emma was okay, both of which felt just a little closer to normal and okay than Lincon had been feeling for the past week. He wasn¡¯t adapting well to the Order. But he was trying. It probably helped that his time with them before had given him a head start over everyone else. The other people their age came to him and Emma and Liam now, for advice. Which was weird, and he hated being ¡®the adult¡¯, but at least he could help now. Emma sighed as she realized what had happened. ¡°See, this is why you should give us infomorphs.¡± She told James, like she¡¯d been having this debate with at least two other people and he was just the latest target. ¡°Yeah, Zhu¡¯s thing letting me tell people about the garage was really helpful.¡± Lincon nodded. ¡°And he¡¯s neat. I wouldn¡¯t mind a friend like that.¡± ¡±You¡¯d be okay with someone living in your head?¡± Morgan asked, not trying to make a statement with the question, just openly curious. Lincon shrugged. ¡°Yeah? Oh, I bet they¡¯d help with therapy when I have to do that. Hey James listens to you, you tell him!¡± He gave Morgan an intentionally rude grin. While Morgan started to glance James¡¯ direction, and the adult at the table continued the motion he¡¯d already started of shaking his head, Emma just sighed dramatically. ¡°You should want the shaper stuff. I¡¯m the one that could use an infomorph. Because I¡¯m the brains of the operation. Also¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡±Also?¡± Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s voice came through the phone on the table as it joined the conversation from its duffel bag. ¡±Nothing.¡± Emma said, before getting prodded by Lincon. ¡°Alright, fine! Also it could make me happy!¡± She snapped at him, returning the poke in what seemed like a specific spot Lincon happened to be sensitive in. James found that incredibly uncomfortable. ¡±I find that incredibly uncomfortable.¡± He told her after considering the value of being bluntly honest. ¡°Infomorphs aren¡¯t a fix-all for your mental health. And not just for moral reasons, though those too. But if you¡¯re not a happy person, then any infomorph that grows up in your thoughts won¡¯t be either. Well, probably.¡± James wished they had more research on that. ¡°Anyway. It looks like we¡¯re in the clear, and everyone is done with their drinks. Is there anything you can tell us directly before we head in?¡± ¡±Woah, hol up.¡± Lincon gave Emma an anxious and wide eyed look. ¡°You mean it¡¯s just us? I thought we were waiting for the rest of you guys!¡± Emma folded her arms in agreement. ¡±Yeah, don¡¯t you have a dragon? We should bring the dragon!¡± Blowing air out of his nose and narrowing his eyes, James folded his arms right back. ¡°First off, you told me this door is a normal door, so I doubt even the smaller drakes could fit in, much less Pendragon. Who is, if you haven¡¯t seen her, the size of a fucking bus.¡± The kids winced as he swore, and James internally made an awkward pledge to try to do that less around them. ¡°Second¡­ stealth? There¡¯s a reason Color¡¯s in a bag you know.¡± ¡±It is not for my health! This is uncomfortable, and I believe someone used this bag to move food supplies because it has baking powder all over the inside!¡± Color-Of-Dawn piped up, the camraconda doing its best not to shift and writhe inside the duffel. ¡°We¡¯ll get you out soon.¡± Morgan promised softly, shifting to tap the edge of his shoe on the top of the bag with a measured amount of pressure. ¡°And maybe turn you into waffles if you¡¯ve been taken over by the baking powder.¡± ¡°Anyway, look.¡± James explained as he collected cups and stacked them up to dispose of in a second. ¡°A lot of our knights are tied up with other stuff. We have six regular dungeons we delve, two of which we rely on. We¡¯re taking care of over fifty kids like you, most of them younger and a lot more afraid. And the crocamaws, too! And that¡¯s on top of a constant influx of camracondas and ratroaches, responding to other disasters where we can, testing out magic, and just training. And also downtime. Being able to relax is critical to people, or else we burn out, and at least for humans, people don¡¯t ever really recover from burnout.¡± He sighed, wondering how close he was putting himself to that redline. ¡°But yeah, our supply of knights wasn¡¯t high to begin with, and we basically just pulled a giant lever that said ¡®more work¡¯.¡± Morgan sat up in his chair, back straight as he nervously opened his mouth, glancing at the other two human teens before deciding to say what was on his mind anyway. ¡°Am¡­ am I only here because there wasn¡¯t anyone else?¡± He asked. ¡±Kinda.¡± James said with brutal honesty. ¡°I mean, I was planning to start bringing you on delves over time anyway eventually. But in this case? Yeah. I mean, this is a new dungeon for us, right? It¡¯s not exactly safe. The plan is a quick scout of the area around the entrance, and acquiring any magics we can for study. It¡¯s a good chance to get you some experience. And also, I know you specifically are harder to kill than most people. But I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be bringing you if, like, Arrush and Alanna had been around, you know?¡± Morgan¡¯s eyes flicked down toward the floor, before he rapidly recovered and squared his shoulders. The kid nodded once, before giving James a lopsided smile. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d pick them too.¡± He said. ¡°Well thanks for bringing us this time anyway.¡± There was something about how sudden his acceptance was that made James almost suspicious. Morgan was a smart kid, and he was mature for his age in the way people meant when someone had been through a lot of abuse and trauma that they shouldn¡¯t have had to. But he wasn¡¯t that readily accepting, and James knew him well enough to recognize this as out of place. He didn¡¯t say anything though. He¡¯d ask later when they were in private. Besides, maybe Morgan was just doing the thing where he tried to act more adult in front of the new kids. ¡±Sure.¡± James said evenly as he stood and stretched, reaching down to grab the bag full of delver gear and not the one packed full of camraconda. ¡°Alright. Well, I can¡¯t say for sure if we¡¯re being tracked some other way, but no one¡¯s watching us within a few blocks. So shall we go?¡± ¡±Why not just use the spell for that?¡± Lincon asked as the other stood, Emma smoothing out her shirt and Morgan grunting as he hoisted Color-Of-Dawn up. James tried not to sigh at the obvious show of trust. ¡±The what.¡± He said, a little irritated. ¡±Uh¡­ it¡¯s¡­ the one called filigree shine.¡± Lincon flinched slighty. ¡°It blinds people looking at you. But if you¡­ if you keep focus on it for long enough, eventually it starts getting really mean to cameras. Or the tracker spell.¡± ¡±Huh. Neat.¡± James didn¡¯t have the Order¡¯s database on hand, for security reasons, but he did recognize the name. ¡°We don¡¯t have any level three or four slots though. Also why weren¡¯t you using that one?¡± He asked. Lincon¡¯s face went blank. An emotional wall slammed down between himself and the conversation as the group started walking away from the Starbucks and through the strip mall¡¯s expansive and trecherous parking lot. ¡°Not enough time.¡± He said simply. James didn¡¯t know what to say to that, so he just made a quiet hum of acknowledgement as Emma walked a little closer to Lincon and gave her friend a familiar hand on the back in comfort. Morgan looked like he was thinking of saying something, but kept quiet as he fell back to walk beside James, the two of them following after the local kids who were clearly on edge and keeping alert to their surroundings at they walked the four blocks it took to find a crosswalk, the noise of constant traffic drowning out casual conversation. It left James feeling tense even after they¡¯d doubled back to the public park that he¡¯d been sipping coffee across from ten minutes ago. He prepared for delves by bantering, making jokes and playing with his friends. Even if they were about to get hurt or even die, he drained out the anxiety and stress by sharing happy moments in the prelude to the danger. This was different. Morgan was a cool kid, but he wasn¡¯t a peer in the same way, and James didn¡¯t feel like humor would be appropriate. Same thing with Color-Of-Dawn. So he was actually feeling the cold ball of anxiety in his gut as he followed the younger humans into the public park. It was still early enough in the year that the trees had all their leaves, and the shade from their canopies made the space feel like it was wrapped up tight almost as soon as they set foot on the wide concrete jogging path. Despite the beginnings of the change of colors from green to fall oranges and reds, and the dry grass that hadn¡¯t seen rain in a while lining the path, the park felt like a nice little island in the middle of the city. Didn¡¯t help James¡¯ delve anxiety any, but it was still pleasant. This part of Utah wasn¡¯t really a naturally hilly place, but it wasn¡¯t like it was flat, and it showed that whoever had marked off and developed this park had intentionally not leveled it out compared to the nearby roads and neighborhoods. Gentle slopes for the pathways gave the trees and mown grasses a kind of texture, and there was clearly an intentional placement of things. A colorful plastic and metal children¡¯s playground was situated in a kind of bowl in the earth, while a white painted gazebo was sat on the top of the tallest hill. This wasn¡¯t a wild space, by any means; there was no wildlife beyond some bugs, no plants that weren¡¯t the ones planted and desired or too stubborn to be eradicated, no part of it that wasn¡¯t made for humanity. It was a strange contrast to James, who was used to parks having areas like this, but those areas being inside of larger places where the city had just marked off a portion of nature and said ¡°You can¡¯t mess with this¡± to property developers. Emma and Lincon led them on to where a red brick building sat inside a loop in the concrete pathway. A bathroom, by the signs around it. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me we have to go into one of the stalls.¡± James said on reflex, the joke slipping out. It diffused the tension a tiny bit though, and he was feeling more ready as their group went around to the rear of the structure where there were a pair of blue metal doors. Emma pointed at one as they walked by, talking softly until they¡¯d passed a pair of joggers. ¡°That one¡¯s the janitor storage space. We don¡¯t have a key for that. The other one, though, Liam had the idea to padlock it.¡± She said it with clear pride in her friend. ¡°Cause no one ever should come here unless they¡¯re going into random doors, and so a padlock will keep out accidental¡­ uh¡­ whatevers.¡± ¡±Good call.¡± James nodded, craning his neck to look around them. Midday on a weekday, a balmy atmosphere, a park like this back home would have at least a handful of people in it. But aside from the joggers who had already passed, there was nothing. Maybe it was just that school was still in session. His view from overhead could only see a few people who might be approaching, but they were moving at a languid pace, and blocked from view by a slope. ¡°No one¡¯s watching, let¡¯s hurry. Anything we need to know?¡± ¡±Yeah, there¡¯s¡­¡± Emma trailed off. ¡°Wait, about what?¡± ¡±Stop asking that unless we¡¯re inside? Please?¡± Lincon pleaded. ¡°It¡¯s really frustrating.¡± He passed Emma to stick a scratched key into the padlock, popping it open and wasting no time in hauling the door out on its worn hinges. James stepped up behind them and looked at what the door was hiding. A simple stairwell, really, even if it was clearly one that wasn¡¯t in use that often. Moss or mold growing on the cracked walls, and a thin haze of smoke or something in the air inside. Of course, the stairs going down just stopped at the floor of the building, like the concrete floor had swallowed up the next step and fused back into a perfectly normal surface. And the stairs going up¡­ ¡±You know, I get to mess with people who come into the Lair a lot about how we¡¯re a one floor building with an elevator.¡± James commented. ¡°I should stop doing that. This feels weird, to be on this side of it.¡± He mulled over the thought as he looked up at where the stairs stretched at least three or four landings overhead before he couldn¡¯t get an angle to see further. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s it?¡± Lincon stepped into the room before speaking with a relieved sigh. ¡°Yeah, up goes to the garden, down goes to the garage. Which one you get is sort of random. Or¡­ we could never figure it out. That door won¡¯t stay open long, either, so we should¡­¡± ¡±Right. Going up.¡± James said, double checking his Breath, Velocity, weapons, leveler items, and orb pack. And then he took point, starting the long climb upward to something new, the others following behind. They got one landing up before Morgan gave up on carrying Color-Of-Dawn and made the camraconda get out of the duffel bag to slither up the steps itself. The camraconda seemed rather amused to have made it this far without being challenged. And then, another doorway at the seventh and final landing. This one with raised ridges across its surface that gave the impression of a wrought iron fence. And beyond it, somewhere exciting and new. _____ The smell was the first thing James noticed. The sticky earthen scent of vegetation composting. A sweet note moving along with it like a breeze that seemed to speak of ripe fruit and mown grass. And beneath all of that, the tiniest hint of blood. Of course, when the smell was like being hit in the face by an odorous shovel, the tiniest hint was still absolutely enough to get the point across. ¡±Euagh!¡± Or some word close to it came from Morgan as he followed James through the door. By no means an expert delver, Morgan trailed behind and didn¡¯t seem at all worried about an early ambush. He was also holding his shirt up like a mask, as if he could keep the scent out forever. ¡°I liked the Climb better!¡± He decided. ¡°I nearly died there.¡± Color-Of-Dawn hissed in annoyance. ¡±Only once! And it didn¡¯t smell like this!¡± Morgan tried to defend himself, as the other two young humans watched the two of them with an awkward curiosity. James wasn¡¯t listening. James was too busy getting caught up in what he was looking at as he set foot on soft grass underneath a sky that felt like it stopped before it really should. A thousand feet ahead of them, a white brick wall marked a boundary. There was a wrought iron gate set into it, as well as a small fence atop the chest high wall with blunted spikes sticking up toward the false sky. Stepping forward cautiously, James checked behind him, and found that they had just emerged from a stone and iron archway standing in the middle of a mown grass field. The wall continued, parallel to itself on both sides of them, before it turned and completed a box on the other side of the dungeon entrance, also close to a thousand feet off, though where the entrance was sat in the field was noticeably off center. James couldn¡¯t see over the wall, but he got the impression it wasn¡¯t just the end of the world. Most of that exterior wall, though, was occluded by an arc of curated topiary on one side, and a line of evenly spaced arborvitae that followed a smooth stone path on the other. That path seemed to connect the gates on different sides of the wall, but it took a meandering path to get there, through small circles of rich soil that seemed as if they¡¯d landed like meteor impacts on the path and had spawned spirals of colored flowers instead of debris. All that, and one massive oak tree back behind the entrance, and the area looked¡­ Familiar, in a strange dungeon way. Yes, it looked like the lawn of a manor estate or something, though James hadn¡¯t been to enough of those to know or care. But more importantly, it felt open. A little exposed, but not enough to make someone nervous. A little quiet, though with experience - and a couple purple orb upgrades - he could sense movement even in the slim cover this space offered. This was a space designed to make someone feel safe enough to walk farther into it. The classic dungeon trap. Just one more step, come inside, we promise it will be safe and fascinating. And then¡­ well, in James¡¯ case, there was an ongoing ¡®and then¡¯ that had left him kind of tired and feeling a lot of abstract stress lately. But he still felt like that first dungeon ¡®and then¡¯ was the hardest one. All the ones that had come after had failed to leave too many scars on him. Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn were gawking at the pleasant scene, despite the fact that it didn¡¯t look right in the strange half-light that came from the sunless blue sky. But Emma and Lincon moved like they¡¯d done this before. Which¡­ well, they had. They had been using both dungeons, both on their own and on the orders of their religious authority figures, to get stronger. For their own reasons in part, James knew, but also because they were told they had to, and they were very good at doing as they were instructed. Both of them dropped their bags by the door, stretching the zippers of the backpacks as they pulled metal banded wooden round shields out and affixed them to their arms. Emma held back with Lincon moving past her and onto James¡¯ flank, both of them ready as the boy drew a sword out of nothing with a pale grey whisper of flames that faded as soon as the blade was out into reality and in his hand. They didn¡¯t look like heroes, or particularly excited for this delve. Nor did they look professional; James could see the cracks in their movements and their moods. But they looked like they were ready to do this, and that meant a lot. ¡±Can I have a sword?¡± Morgan asked hopefully. James laughed, keeping his voice down but still expressing amusement as he opened his own bag. ¡°No, you can have this.¡± He said, tossing Morgan a paintball gun loaded with pepper shots. ¡°Help Color get armored up.¡± He added, pulling out the limited protective gear that he¡¯d brought for them. Lighter than the full Order armor set, good for when you weren¡¯t doing more than taking a quick look, but didn¡¯t want to do it in cargo pants and a teeshirt. ¡°Also give me a sword.¡± Color-Of-Dawn added as Morgan helped the camraconda into the lightest mechanical arm harness that the Order had made so far; just two limbs, more for manipulating than actual heavy work, and the exact reason that it couldn¡¯t have a sword either. After being given its own paintball gun, Color-Of-Dawn asked the question that James had been waiting on everyone¡¯s preparation for just a little early. ¡°Now. What do we do? Can you say more in here?¡± James nodded slowly. ¡°Yeah, typically, early delves are about going in from the entrance and starting to map out dangers and rewards. But since this one has the option, I kinda wanna go backward. What can you two share? How do you normally delve here?¡± ¡±Uh¡­¡± Lincon looked like he¡¯d been suddenly put on the spot, and the prospect of being honestly asked a question terrified him. ¡°I guess we normally just go forward? Some of the paths change so we can¡¯t really map it.¡± ¡±We used to go looking for fights until we found a new spellbook.¡± Emma clarified. ¡°Then we¡¯d try it out. Time moves differently here so we have extra time for equipping.¡± ¡±Or whatever you call looking at the books.¡± Lincon clarified. James shrugged. ¡°Equipping isn¡¯t bad, though we should probably pick a term that¡¯s different, because we do do equipping in the sense of going to the armory for a weapon and gear. Oh, speaking of, what do you call this place?¡± ¡±Just¡­ just the garden, I guess?¡± ¡±Do you mind if we name it something weird? Momo really-¡° Emma giggled, and Lincon¡¯s own similar laugh echoed alongside hers. ¡°Yeah, Momo asked us. She can have it. We decided we don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°You guys have cool names for things anyway.¡± Lincon added, as Morgan finished the process of clipping his armor on and tightening it, letting James double check that he¡¯d done it right. Lincon only briefly glanced at them before pointing with his sword to shapes in the shadows of the column-like green trees. ¡°We sorta avoid the little ones, because they almost never drop anything. And¡­ they¡¯re not really that mean, you know?¡± Everyone else nodded. They all knew, for one reason or another. ¡°Are there larger and or meaner things deeper in?¡± James inquired. Emma and Lincon shared a look. ¡±Oh, uh¡­ not really? Or, I mean, there¡¯s no difference. There¡¯s some weirder stuff farther in, but the big demons can show up anywhere. I think there¡¯s a pillboar behind the hedge right here.¡± Emma directed their attention toward the topiary. There was a moving shadow cast through the narrow gap, just enough to be visible as something moved around on the other side, but that she noticed that was impressive at this distance. ¡°They¡¯re dangerous.¡± The girl added, tension in her voice. James gave a tight smile. He wasn¡¯t a big fan of ambushing random dungeon life, especially knowing what he did about how half of it was people, but there was enough information either given or stolen about this dungeon to come up with a few particular truths. Many of the things that lived here were sophonts. But the other half actually were overtly violent and hostile at all times. And while he didn¡¯t recognize the term ¡®pillboar¡¯, he was pretty sure he knew what kind of creature Emma was pointing out. ¡°Okay. First encounter. Morgan?¡± Morgan jerked upright. ¡±Me?¡± He squawked. ¡±You. How do you approach this?¡± ¡±¡­Uh¡­ we can circle around opposite sides in groups, try to talk to it, and if it tries to hurt us, then Color-Of-Dawn can stop it and you can shoot it?¡± Morgan suggested. ¡±Good start. Emma, Lincon, go left please. We¡¯ll take the right. Morgan¡¯s mostly right, Color you should be ready to freeze it, then we¡¯ll take it out. If something goes wrong,¡± James added, ¡°then close on me and keep your heads down, okay? Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡± They moved out toward their first planned encounter, James determined to make sure that at least this part of the dungeon was a clear fallback if they needed to run. And also just to get a feel for the others. Rounding the edge of the hedge, keeping his feet on the dungeon¡¯s grass because he didn¡¯t want to find out if the artificially spawned barkdust near the base of the plant would give him artificially enhanced splinters, their prey came into sight. It was like a smaller version of the demon that someone had thrown at him in a meetinghouse basement a couple weeks back. A flexing organic shell that looked like it was made of melted rust-red fur that had fused into one piece, twenty short legs that moved in a complex dance underneath the armored covering, and a face that was like a flattened and sawn off face that happened to have a quartet of tusks coming out of it. Part wild boar, part pillbug. Pillboar. That made sense, yeah. It was also at least five hundred pounds of creature, which was a big potential problem, even if it was smaller than the last one he¡¯d fought on Earth. It saw him as soon as he stepped out, head snapping up with an outraged squeal. James hadn¡¯t even gotten time to raise his hands and softly greet the wild dungeon beast before it was leaving shredded lines in the grass as it charged at him. Color-Of-Dawn stopped it dead in its tracks. ¡°Ah. This is quickly tiring.¡± The camraconda¡¯s voice was placid, but its body twitched with strain as it focused on the creature. ¡°Please.¡± From behind it, Emma and Lincon saw the creature was paralyzed, and Emma tapped Lincon on the arm as she said something in a sharp voice. Lincon rushed forward, closing the hundred feet from the other side of the hedge¡¯s edge in a fast dash, and then stabbed his sword into shell just behind the pillboar¡¯s ¡®neck¡¯. He immediately got it stuck, and nearly fell over trying to yank it out. Eager to help, Morgan took aim with the paintball gun James had given him and put mostly accurate shots into the pillboar¡¯s face, the capsaicin that reacted very badly with the local dungeon life rapidly melting through its flesh. And one shot hitting Lincon in the neck. A moment later, Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s control slipped, the camraconda¡¯s gaze letting the pillboar go. The creature squealed as it continued forward, but being unfrozen just caused the decay of the spicy paintball shots to accelerate, and before it could slam its tusks into James¡¯ midsection, it perished and collapsed into a mound of red-grey sludge, quickly melting as it died. ¡±You shot me!¡± Lincon yelled indignantly, voice cracking. ¡±I was trying to help!¡± Morgan was breathing heavily, despite that having gone pretty well in James¡¯ opinion. Adrenaline was always hard to deal with, especially for someone who was still new to it and young. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He added abruptly, in a much more controlled voice. The apology drew Lincon up short, and his shoulders relaxed while he wiped the stinging impact on his neck. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s fine. Oh hey, coins!¡± He knelt to pull a few glittering pieces of metal out of the dissolving body of the pillboar. ¡°That was also easy. What¡¯s in those?¡± ¡±Capsaicin.¡± James said. ¡°Apparently a lot of stuff in here is allergic to it. But not everything, so don¡¯t rely on it.¡± He took the silver coin with a tiny sapphire dot at the top that Lincon offered him, adding it to a secure pouch. ¡°Thanks.¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡±You¡¯re not gonna use it?¡± ¡±No, the Order makes copies of magic stuff so we can distribute it.¡± James explained. ¡°You can add yours to the pool, if you want! No pressure though.¡± Lincon looked at the other two coins the creature had dropped, before sharing a look with Emma, the two kids silently making a decision that ended with him handing James the coins to pocket. ¡°Alright. Thank you.¡± He softly acknowledge the gesture. Lincon shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s just spell slots.¡± He said. ¡°Too bad this one didn¡¯t drop a book.¡± ¡±The books drop from kills?¡± James was thirsty for more hard details, and in here, it seemed like he could get them just by asking. Emma nodded, before noticing Color-Of-Dawn slowly slithering up to them. ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked. ¡±That was tiring.¡± The camraconda said. ¡°I cannot do that to heavy things as much.¡± ¡±Oh right, the thing.¡± Morgan looked concern as he knelt next to his partner. ¡°Does your lens hurt? You don¡¯t have any breaks.¡± ¡±I am fine, stop poking me.¡± Color-Of-Dawn twisted away with a friendly but embarrassed hiss. ¡°Emma, continue.¡± ¡±Right, the books drop from anything. So do the coins. There¡¯s all kinds of stuff. We can¡¯t figure out most of the puzzles, but there¡¯s a couple places where you just have to get up to a high point, and if you have the spell that makes your arms stretchy, It¡¯s easy. But the drops are usually random, and sometimes nothing, so¡­ you know.¡± Emma¡¯s cheeks tinted red as she realized she¡¯d gotten excited with her talking, and sharply looked away. James laughed. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m into dungeon exploration too. No need to feel bad about it. Also clearly I need to read the list of spells we have closer, cause I want the stretchy arms one.¡± ¡±That¡¯s¡­ one of ours.¡± Lincon said, almost defiantly. ¡°Oh, okay. Well, shall go through one of those gates? Wait, Emma, Lincon, do the gates mess with you if you go through them? Should we go over the wall instead?¡± James suspiciously eyed the ends of the path, eager to see the rest of the dungeon, but on his guard against its particular bullshit. ¡±No? They¡¯re just gates.¡± Lincon looked confused. ¡°Can they hurt us?¡± James relaxed slightly. ¡±If they haven¡¯t yet, they probably don¡¯t. Alright. Let¡¯s go. I want to see what¡¯s next.¡± _____ The gate led directly into another walled off box, this one with more dirt than grass as its ground, but with similar dimensions. Emma and Lincon started to ease up a little, talking mostly to Morgan about their past adventures here while James kept back and kept alert. As they moved through the curated row after row of identically patterned flower planters, it gave James a good chance to ask Color-Of-Dawn a question. ¡°Hey, you okay?¡± He opened with. ¡±I am fine.¡± The camraconda replied plainly. ¡±You sure? Cause Morgan said¡­¡± ¡±Morgan is.¡± Color-Of-Dawn cut off very abruptly, synthetic voice just stopping mid sentence. ¡°I am fine. I am not a good delver or a useful camraconda. But I will help here.¡± James¡¯ face fell as he let them lag back another couple steps, putting some distance between where the human kids were showing Morgan some kind of weird bug that lived here. ¡°Color, if you-¡° he noticed the camraconda¡¯s instant discomfort, and automatically corrected himself, internally slapping his brain for not picking up on this sooner. ¡°Color-Of-Dawn, I want to make sure you¡¯re not hurt. That¡¯s literally it. We don¡¯t need you freezing stuff for you to be useful, but also this isn¡¯t a deep delve, so you don¡¯t even need to be a good delver. This is a hike with your partner, okay?¡± The boxy camera head of his conversation partner swung his way on a black cabled body with a few offset green lines running through it. ¡°I am not like the other ones. Very much not the newer ones.¡± Color-Of-Dawn said. ¡°I do not know camraconda history, but the lens magic is always being improved. Experimented. I am an experiment that did not work.¡± It let out a long breath, not quite a hiss and more of a humanistic sigh. ¡°I am weaker. And using it too much causes cracks.¡± ¡±Okay.¡± James said simply. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure to plan around that. How¡¯s your aim?¡± ¡±Miserable. Unless I am trying not to hit Morgan, in which case, excellent at hitting Morgan.¡± James tried not to laugh and was at least partly successful in holding it back. ¡°Let¡¯s keep you two in the back line then.¡± He said. ¡°Anyway, since they seem like they¡¯re not afraid that the flowers are going to kill them, let¡¯s catch up.¡± _____ Two more gates passed without incident. The progression of the terrain was, James kicked himself for thinking, almost mundane. Each one of the contained sites was just¡­ normal. The strange pale light that came from nowhere overhead was weird, yes, and the fact that each plot of land was fenced off with thick white brick was methodical in how it merged the familiar and the alien. But the actual contents were just what James would have expected in someone¡¯s middle class backyard. When there wasn¡¯t even any dungeon life to highlight where they were, and if he didn¡¯t look up, it would have been almost easy to convince himself that he was just on Earth somewhere. Emma ruined that by pointing out that the plots they were passing did have life in them. She didn¡¯t even call them demons, which everyone appreciated, though it was less appreciated that she was pointing out the presence of bugs. The pollen flies were normal enough, though it was instantly clear to James how someone with allergies might disagree. The spider-like things that had five stick legs covered in pine needles that camouflaged into the trees and would occasionally spear a passing fly to snack on were less normal, and while Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn seemed to have a fascination with maybe grabbing one as a pet, James wanted to double check the back of his armor every six seconds just in case one had touched him. The burrowers were the most alien; rarely seen unless you dug for one, their bodies were lengths of garden hose, and their heads were simple snapping mouths like metal trowels. Emma said they¡¯d bite you if you got close, and James had no reason to disbelieve that. Most dungeon life he¡¯d met would bite him if he got close. Still, it was an easy trip. The lines of sight were open, the space bright but not painfully so, and while everything felt like it was closer than it should be it was still a tamed space. Only the fragrant smell acting as a reminder that this was a place full of life. Which was perhaps apropos for a dungeon in a park. Until they came to a gate that led them through to a space that was far smaller than the others. No longer uniform, and no longer a neat square either. The wall they entered through was still brick - the dungeon seemed averse to actually warping space so far, it just messed with perspective - but the far wall was made of mortar filled irregular stones, with the walls shifting slowly to that form as they passed on each side. The space was greener than even the open lawn by the entrance. A trio of willow trees dominated the view, placed at points around a cobblestone circle in the middle of the ¡®room¡¯, with more tall grasses and ivies covering the exterior of the space. That stone ring on the ground itself was centered around a two tiered stone fountain that burbled with water, twenty feet across and misting its surroundings nicely. That was all fascinating, and a very cool vibe. It felt like the path leading to a witch¡¯s cottage or something akin to that. But James was busy focusing on two different problems this next step brought. One was the smell of exhaust fumes. Close by, and definitely not something that belonged in this dungeon, as far as he knew. Which meant that in one of the nearby areas, there was likely a breach into the other dungeon. And the other thing was that, possibly in migration away from those fumes, a flock of creatures had taken a rest at the fountain. He¡¯d never really had time to look at the things under the light of day. They were, if you didn¡¯t look closely and focused on the torsos and legs, almost like satyrs really. Cloven hooves and furred limbs, even their wings had a kind of shaggy tan fur on them that made them seem like an expectable twist on the creation. Of course, their necks were curved and flexible tubes almost like a swan, ending with a beak that was a razor-sharp lance of¡­ something. Metal? James almost called a time out just to check on that. The creatures - these ones he was almost comfortable calling demons - didn¡¯t give him the chance. The instant one of them spotted the delvers entering, it flared its arm wings out and made a series of cries, rapidly peaking screeches that alerted the others who all joined in. ¡±What are the odds¡­¡± James started to ask. ¡±None! They¡¯re always-¡° Lincon yelled over the screeches in the moment before the five winged dungeon creatures launched themselves up out of the fountain and at the group. Water splashing out wildly as their spread wings cast shadows on the ground from the invisible light source, Lincon reacted by shoving Emma backward and interposing himself and his sword between her and the creatures. Morgan reacted by panic firing his paintball gun, while Color-Of-Dawn stuck close at his side and followed his lead. One of them hit something, but the other four demons kept coming, and fast. James didn¡¯t hesitate; partly because he¡¯d been training for almost exactly this, but mostly because he¡¯d promised the younger delvers that this would be safe enough for them, and he intended to make sure that was true. Launching himself forward and away from their tight cluster where they¡¯d come through the gate to buy space, he stopped carefully holding back his acceleration and reached the lead flyer in a second¡¯s burst of motion. The mostly bovine creation was flying, yes, but not very far off the ground, and James grabbed it¡¯s leg before it could react, leveraging all his body weight to slam it into the dungeon¡¯s stone path with enough force that bits of red slime sprayed out from the impact. The others turned on him, and he had a slight moment where he wished Zhu was awake to tell him where to dodge. Then he was rapidly blocking a drilling beak with a flickering cast of mountain of the self, the monster¡¯s natural weapon snapping painfully on his forearm as James kept up the momentum and dropped his knee on to the neck of the downed enemy, snapping something and hopefully killing it painlessly while he drew his pistol and downed one of the others that had faltered at his charge with ruthless precision and an application of a cluster shot charge. Even in the Office, where some of the life was very aggressive and ruthless, the last one would have turned to flee at the sudden tipping of the scales. But this one didn¡¯t. It had tunnel visioned on James, and tried to swoop around to take another stab at him. Small red pellets pestered it as it did so, Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn both failing to hit their target but coming close to nailing James more than once. James just waited for the last flyer to get closer as he stayed crouched and finished off the one with a broken beak with a quick shot. It did, eventually, but it didn¡¯t come in carefully like the others had. This wasn¡¯t a probing attack, it was determined to rip James apart, and it hit him with its full body weight, which he hadn¡¯t been expecting. James and the furred creature rolled across the stone and into the trunk of one of the willows as he dropped his gun and grabbed its beak with his gloved hands. Paving it in the face repeatedly, it kept wrenching its head around and struggling to pin him down, right up until Lincon started stabbing it. The kid¡¯s attacks weren¡¯t precise or lethal on their own, but it forced the altered satyr to twist around out of James¡¯ grip and go for the younger delver. A single stab forward with its freed beak was blocked though, the simple shield Lincon was wearing snapping into position with a flutter of ethereal grey silk and safeguarding his vital organs. Lincon swept his sword back at it, but even James could tell it wasn¡¯t something that hadn¡¯t been worked on much as the goat used its beak to deflect the blow. It was about to stab again when James grabbed its wings by their joints, and rolled forward. Pinning the creature below him and slamming its head into the loam. When it twisted to try to retaliate, he had a strong pin on it, and it could do little more than try to flap ineffectively before Lincon frantically chopped downward to hack into its neck until it died and the body started dissolving. All over James. ¡±God dammit.¡± He sighed as he stood and brushed himself off, trying to get as much of the red sludge off him as he could. ¡°Ugh. These things smell awful when they die. It¡¯s like one of those coconut flavored bleach wipes.¡± ¡±Are you alright?!¡± Lincon ignored the quip in favor of being panicked. James stooped to retrieve his gun, checking the safety and taking a second to reload it. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Anyone else hurt? Everyone okay?¡± He double checked the battlefield and the five slightly shimmering puddles that had been Garden life. The one on top of him had a small brass coin sinking in it, and he fished that out with gloved fingers. Everyone else was okay, though Color-Of-Dawn was clearly doing its best to not show any kind of post-fight panic. The camraconda was, James decided, not someone who should be delving extensively. Everyone who spent time in dungeons had their own motivations, and sometimes something like not wanting to fight could be overridden by enough of a need to explore, or help. But Color-Of-Dawn was clearly not happy to be doing any part of the delving process, and that was okay, but it was something that was important to account for. Delvers that didn¡¯t want to be there at all were delvers who got their teams in trouble. Of the five things that had attacked them - James was still carefully not calling them demons, even internally - they got three small coins. A statistically high haul, though he got a disappointed shout of alarm from Morgan when he flicked one of them into the fountain. ¡°For luck!¡± James said happily. He didn¡¯t know exactly why he felt the need to treat the water feature like a wishing well. But he did, and it was satisfying to hear the plunk of the metal splashing cleanly into the water. Though James noted that when he and Lincon went to wash the sludge off themselves in the lower tier of the wide concrete construct, that the coin was nowhere to be seen. _____ ¡±Is that hostile?¡± James asked with a small infusion of sarcasm. The five of them were crouched behind a low cobblestone wall that ran alongside the main footpath through this part of the Garden. Well, four of them were crouched, Color-Of-Dawn was easily concealed without much extra effort. Three gates away from the fountain, they¡¯d tracked the source of the smog smell, and found exactly what James expected. Ahead of them, sliding back and forth across a stretch of mown lawn and a pair of intertwined oak trees, a vision of another world poured itself like oil. It was hard to see the exact dimensions of it this close, unlike when James had seen it from the other side and two hundred feet overhead. But it seemed¡­ bigger. Up close, it was definitely more threatening than he¡¯d expected. The distortion in space moved and the green ground was replaced by polished concrete. The external wall of this plot on the far side shifted to a poured white stone flecked with some kind of glittering substance. Beyond, the sky was visible as a mass of black clouds and towering rectangular structures. Trees became rows of parked cars, or car shaped machines, before the distortion slid back, and the plants came back into view. For a moment, almost everything was normal. Or normal for this particular dungeon. Before the air rippled and the hole to the other side started again, coming in from the opposite side as where it had ended, flowing across the terrain and leaving behind a trail of a rooftop parking garage before it was swallowed again by the Garden. And then there was the this that James was asking about. Standing on the grass, munching on some tall purple flowers with a face like a widened headlight and a mouth that seemed to be another stretched out copy of the same part but opened and with cog-like teeth, was a caribou. Emphasis, as always, on car. An engine for a body and exhaust pipes coming up off its back like upraised tails, long and skinny legs with wheels for hooves. It was something he¡¯d seen a couple times before. In the other dungeon. In Pylon Motoric, where they were from, and lived. But here one was, sampling the local flora like a snack, four waving metal antenna rods coming out of its skull like antlers as it grazed. Not a care in two worlds. ¡±I¡¯ve never seen one this close before.¡± Emma¡¯s voice was a whisper as she ducked back down and pressed herself against the grass on this side of the wall. ¡°What do we do?¡± ¡±Well, I wasn¡¯t expecting this, but this is a great opportunity to test something I¡¯ve been super curious about.¡± James said slowly. Color-Of-Dawn flexed its body to look up at him from the ground. ¡°I cannot stop that. It is huge.¡± It stated. James nodded, taking another peek over the stone edge. The thing was probably ten feet tall at least. Those ¡®skinny¡¯ legs were as big as his thighs, and were probably pretty far from weak points. ¡°Have you two ever seen a breach like this before? Can you talk about them more now that we¡¯re in here?¡± ¡±We¡¯ve seen them sometimes.¡± Lincon confirmed with a nod. Emma continued. ¡°Scary stuff comes out of them, I guess? The things from farther into the other dungeon. But a lot of it isn¡¯t as mean as on this side.¡± ¡±Yeah, the things that spawn here are¡­ bullies.¡± Lincon added with an angry scowl. ¡°But this one doesn¡¯t look that friendly either?¡± ¡±It probably isn¡¯t that fast here compared to in its home,¡± Morgan said as he thought through the situation, ¡°cause of the wheels. Maybe if it is hostile, one of us could lead it away, while James tries to go through?¡± James looked at the kid with raised eyebrows. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ an interesting idea.¡± He said. ¡°Why do you think I want to go through?¡± ¡±Oh. Uh¡­ I don¡¯t really know. It seems like a thing you¡¯d do, I guess? Sorry, I leveled up my Lesson yesterday and I¡¯m getting used to being better at deciding things. I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt.¡± Morgan rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away. ¡±Hey, you¡¯re not interrupting. When we have the time to plan, we plan, okay? That means taking time to go through options.¡± James nodded. ¡°Wait, what did you level up?¡± ¡±Judgement.¡± Color-Of-Dawn twisted minutely as James looked at it with a curious expression. ¡°No.¡± The camraconda answered the unspoken question. ¡°He is not more judgemental. I would notice. He is less indecisive however.¡± That was a cool one. James might pick up yet another Sewer book just to have a single stack of that. ¡°Okay.¡± He said. ¡°I feel like, as the fastest runner, I should lead it off just in case. Who wants to be our test subject for going through the gap?¡± ¡±What if it¡¯s dangerous?¡± Emma asked. ¡°I mean, the normal doors are safe, but what if this one isn¡¯t? We¡¯ve never tried one of the holes before.¡± The young woman was prepared to present a lot of reasons they shouldn¡¯t try this, and should just turn around. ¡±Good point. I should do it.¡± James nodded with a small wince. It was, probably, not that bad. After all, this big metal boy had come through, so it couldn¡¯t be instantly lethal. But he didn¡¯t want to push one of the younger delvers into a bad situation just to test his own dumb idea. ¡±I¡¯ll come with you.¡± Morgan said eagerly. ¡°If it¡¯s angry, we can split up, and whoever is nearest can go through and come back, right?¡± He watched James closely until he got a small nod of acceptance. ¡°And it looks like it¡¯s a vegetarian anyway, it¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ it¡¯s¡­¡± he peeked at the caribou again, and realized that it had moved on from eating flowers, to eating part of a tall decorative concrete pot that was sunk slightly into the dirt. ¡°It¡¯s eating rock¡­¡± he trailed off as the tall quadruped munched on a chunk of the material without making a sound aside from the low rumble of its engine body. James patted Morgan on the shoulder a couple times, and then slowly but steadily stood up. ¡°Everyone else lurk here. Color-Of-Dawn, if you can slow it a little without hurting yourself, do it if you need to keep Morgan safe, okay? Emma, Lincon, stay low. If you have anything that can help at range, you can use it if it¡¯s safe, but I¡¯m pretty sure I can walk off being gored.¡± James paused, then mentally flicked one of his shield bracers to ¡®vehicle impact¡¯, just in case that would actually work. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡± He stepped over the low wall, standing in the open for a second with his hands out to his sides. Patiently holding position while Morgan followed him a little less gracefully, and while the caribou spotted him. It was fascinating to see how its metal body with visible moving machine parts tensed and then relaxed in an organic way. Metal moving like skin as it shifted to keep them in its line of sight. But it didn¡¯t charge or bellow at them, and so James started walking at a wide angle toward where the dungeons were overlapping. ¡±No worries.¡± He said in a low but audible voice. ¡°Just passing by. Keep doing your thing.¡± He was pretty sure this dungeon creature couldn¡¯t understand him, but if it was just an animal intelligence, then a soft voice and passive body language might be enough for it. And as they circled around in the open, it showed no desire to get near them. Acting more like a skittish deer than its namesake, eventually moving in awkward hops that showed off exactly how bad it was at moving on grass to put the dungeon overlay between itself and James and Morgan. ¡°I think it¡¯s scared of us.¡± Morgan commented. James gave the kid a nod. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not dangerous.¡± He reminded him. ¡°It¡¯s still huge, and made of metal. So we don¡¯t provoke it, okay?¡± ¡±I know, I¡¯m not dumb.¡± Morgan¡¯s put out reply came with an associated huff, which James smiled at. ¡±Alright. I¡¯m gonna go through. Do you want to come along? You¡¯ll probably just level up breathing if there¡¯s a reward. This is kind of just a test, and we aren¡¯t really prepared to make use of this.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t you have to have a few breathing levels to get anything else?¡± Morgan asked. ¡°I might as well, right? Especially¡­ you know.¡± James nodded. ¡°Alright. Into the breach. And then immediately out of the breach!¡± He instructed, taking long steps forward as the oily sheen of warped space passed in front of them and the ground changed to something that looked more artificial and grey. His feet landed on the other dungeon¡¯s parking lot rooftop without even the sensation of pressure. One minute he was in one of them, the next, the other. If he¡¯d been blindfolded he wouldn¡¯t have even known. As Morgan stepped in next to him, the green of the garden sliding away as the breach passed by, a herd of seven or eight caribou on the other end of the long row of parking spaces looked up at them. Headlights glinting in the smoggy gloom as they stared at the two humans. ¡°Ah.¡± Morgan coughed. ¡°We should-!¡± James grabbed him and shoved Morgan sideways, pushing him to run toward the slowly moving window between the two worlds. Aberrant sunlight and green grass sliding away from them until they started moving and caught up to it, rushing through as they heard wheels squeaking on smoothed floor start to echo off the concrete and rebar behind them. Morgan¡¯s eyes were still trying to adjust between the rapid light level changes as James hauled him to the side. He stumbled, not sure if he should resist or not, as the distortion moved on and they were back in the garden dungeon and hopefully out of the charging path of the other caribou from the other side. (Milestone - Initiation Crossing : +1 AP) Morgan felt the words splash into his thoughts, impossible to ignore and cleanly formatted. His hammering heart spiking in pace again as he got surprised by the new form of dungeon magic weaving itself into him with nothing more than neatly presented words. He sucked in a breath, and then got another alert. (Breathing : +1 Level, 1 level total) (1 AP spent, 0 AP remains) ¡°Morgan, you good?¡± James¡¯ voice made him whip his head around, the world feeling like it was spinning a little. ¡°Whoof.¡± The paladin added with a gasp. ¡°This one¡¯s a little uncomfortable to go through. At least we know it works though, right?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ I¡¯m okay. But uh¡­¡± James was focused on his own set of notifications, only half listening to Morgan. Different from Morgan¡¯s, though they wouldn¡¯t know that until later when they compared notes. But when they did, they¡¯d certainly find something interesting to talk about with this kind of hole between the dungeons. (Milestone - Initiation Sisterhood Crossing : +4 AP) James struggled to suppress a gasp at the number. Four, just for that. And he didn¡¯t want to spend one of his precious points on breathing. Not now. Of course, he realized as soon as he started doing that, what he was actually doing was exercising mastery over his breathing in an attempt to accomplish a specific goal. And if anything was going to level up a skill- (Breathing : +2 Levels, 5 levels total, 1 link empty) (2 AP spent, 2 AP remains) It was that. The new words were for later. Right now, he just needed to try something different. He had expected a point or maybe two. Not four. And so he hadn¡¯t been thinking about the outline of a plan that they¡¯d started making for training different skills. But the basics were simple enough. James shifted his feet into a simple boxer¡¯s stance, pulling his hands up in a guard before lashing out with a jab at the air over the tall grasses in front of him. Then another jab, and a cross, shadow boxing with the actual shadow of a slightly chewed on concrete vase on a plinth. A short shuffle forward and another punch at an invisible foe, and James heard two more sets of words in varying levels of inconvenience. (Walking : +1 Level, 1 level total) (Boxing : +1 Level, 1 level total) (2 AP spent, 0 AP remains) And then he let himself breathe properly. Air filling his lungs in more than just shallow and intentionally bad pants as he relaxed, AP spent on something that was, hopefully, a little more useful to him. ¡°Well, actually, why would I complain?¡± He laughed, bending forward and pressing a hand to his chest as he caught his breath. ¡°I walk every day! Whoooo. Alright. Sorry Morgan, you were saying something and I was punching the air. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡±M-m-moose.¡± Morgan shuffled back a step past James, who turned just in time to see the stretched headlight face of the caribou lean down to stare at him. ¡±Oh. Hello.¡± James forced himself into stillness, not flinching, not raising his voice. The creature¡¯s antenna antlers were splayed out behind its head like a wire frame halo, a static buzzing coming from between them, while it made a much more natural snuffling noise as it pushed its face forward toward James. ¡°You¡¯re a curious guy, huh?¡± He ever so slowly raised his hands to his sides, trying to not sweat too loudly. ¡°Um¡­ Morgan, walk backward slowly. Don¡¯t hit the wall. Watch the wall. Okay. Get back to the others, get a telepad ready, okay?¡± James spoke slowly, but there was an edge to his instructions. ¡°Kay.¡± The kid said with a tight breath of a whisper, shaking as he moved back from the creature that, up close, absolutely dwarfed him. ¡°Are you¡­¡± ¡±I¡¯m fine.¡± James said in the same forced soft tone as Morgan retreated, the caribou not looking away from him as the younger delver left. He just stood there, waiting to see if it was going to try to eat him, mental finger on the trigger of three different spells just in case. And then he heard the radio static between its antenna again. The antlers splaying out fully, the sound changing suddenly like it was someone scanning channels on an old car radio. Distant hints of voices and music fading in and out as an invisible knob turned. And in tune with the static, James felt something pulling on him. Not physically, but on something that was part of him, but that he didn¡¯t have a very strong sense of. His magic. A specific part of it, even. The mechanical cervid stepped forward, headlight face pushing past James¡¯ head and down the back of his armor, the heavy form thumping into his body and forcing a staggering step back, but still no hostility emerged. Instead, it kept tuning closer and closer to something that resonated inside James¡¯ mind. A flicker of grey was the only sign he actually got as the caribou pulled its head back, something glinting in its mouth before it bit down, bending and then crunching through the knife it had summoned. Or that James had summoned, on command? There was no sensation to using the Utah spells, so he couldn¡¯t actually tell the difference, but either way, even if it hadn¡¯t just stolen his knife making spell, it had sure as hell stolen the knife. ¡±Now hang on!¡± James started to protest, causing the creature to stop chewing on the metal and nudge him back with its long glass face. The force was clearly not the most it could do, but it still sent him back several steps. And in an instant, James realized both how absurd the situation was, and how stupid it would be to get mad about not being trampled to death. ¡°You know what, enjoy the snack.¡± He said, sketching out a shallow bow before backing away. He stopped as there was a small flicker of light, and a light ting as a something metal appeared under the tall quadruped and landed on a hewn stone buried in the dirt. Both James and the creature looked down, the caribou stepping to the side to bring its full mouth down to the ground to huff out a mechanical breath, as the two of them looked at the simple oval brass coin the length of a finger laying there. ¡°Huh.¡± James¡¯ mind started racing. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose-¡° the caribou¡¯s mouth opened and it scooped up the metal object, crunching down on that too. ¡°-okay nevermind.¡± James decided that was a great time to leave, before it decided that it wanted to take a bite out of something else he happened to be carrying. Carefully shifting around the concrete pots and planted flowers, he eventually joined back up with Morgan and the others. ¡±That was insane!¡± Was the first thing Lincon said when they got back to the group. ¡°It could have killed you!¡± ¡±Probably not.¡± James said confidently. ¡°Though I don¡¯t think it was going to. This one seems¡­ kinda chill, compared to the ones on the other side. Maybe it¡¯s the diet. Still, glad not to fight it! I didn¡¯t want you guys to get hurt. Also it can steal magic a little bit, and I don¡¯t have a lot of ways to shrug off a camraconda gaze if it noticed Color-Of-Dawn. Anyway. I think this is a good place to turn back; this was always meant to be a quick in and out, and we¡¯ve already blown way past that line. We can come back and mess with this breach later with a real delve team.¡± Emma gave him a confused stare, her hands balling nervously at her sides. ¡°But¡­ it rearranges itself. It might not be here?¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine. We¡¯ll figure that out too. Our goal is to maximize our own growth, while still being safe, and healthy. Okay? All of you remember that.¡± James looked at Morgan especially as he said that, trying to make the specific instruction stick. ¡°You¡¯re not fighting for your lives or hiding in the shadows. There will be a tomorrow for you. We have the luxury of taking our time to study and refine our methods, and get the most we can out of this so that our lives get better, and so we can help everyone else that follows us.¡± ¡±Won¡¯t that¡­ make you less special?¡± Lincon asked. Morgan laughed. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to be special.¡± He answered for James, the different things he¡¯d been told and seen and learned at the Order suddenly coming into focus. ¡°Do you? You want to be normal, right?¡± He set a hand on Color-Of-Dawn¡¯s armored back, looking away embarrassed to stare at the distant form of the grazing caribou. ¡±Right.¡± James smiled. ¡°Imagine a future where everyone has the cool magic, and no one needs to conjure blades.¡± He paused, then amended that with ¡°Unless you¡¯re feeding one of those guys I guess. Or if the free metal is convenient. Or¡­ look I didn¡¯t think this statement through. Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± Backtracking was a quiet affair, though Emma and Lincon kept asking Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn questions while James led the group back through the pattern of wrought iron gates, brick walls, and unnaturally cultivated green spaces. When they were walking through one of the longer spaces that was just mown grass and an empty sky, James asked about the rest of the dungeon. Talking about it was easier in here, though Emma and Lincon still had trouble giving details, and James made sure to set a skulljack reminder to have Planner take a look at them just to help them out. But they still told him in vague terms about deeper areas that sounded like curated wetlands and manor gardens and other weirder more warped spaces. They¡¯d seen no crocamaws here this time, and James had really hoped they would have been able to make contact with a dungeon people. But maybe the wetlands were where they lived, and he could run into them in the future. They also hadn¡¯t seen any of the puzzles or secret treasures that the Utah natives alluded to, but those were likely also deeper in, and that was fine. They¡¯d only scratched the surface, and it had still been a potentially lucrative delve both for having a new spell coin to copy, and in accruing knowledge about the dungeon¡¯s partner. James did wish that he¡¯d considered this and that they¡¯d thought to plan out better how to maximize the Pylon Motoric points. He had no idea what the new ¡®link open¡¯ on his breathing did, but at five levels, he could actually feel a noticeable difference in how easily his lungs worked. Everything was just easier, and enough so that he felt it. So if nothing else, making this a priority for new ratroaches would alleviate a lot of problems with a minimal resource cost. He made sure to not get lost in his own thoughts as he walked, enjoying the way the open and bright dungeon space let him see threats coming even without his drones overhead. He was still keeping alert just in case, and also, he was listening to the others as they talked. James would need to sit down with Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn after this, and actually make sure they understood that there wasn¡¯t some kind of obligation to do this together. He knew, in his core, that Color-Of-Dawn would pretend to enjoy delving if it thought it would make Morgan happy, and that was just a terrible idea. A lot of camracondas did that, he¡¯d noticed, and even in the Order where mental health and communication were prioritized among members, humans often missed what was happening until it had been going on for far too long. Still. It had been a good, mostly easy day. Which almost made him laugh again when he got a flash of perspective, and not from the overhead view. Just a few years ago, it was a struggle to not get maimed by a pack of stapler crabs, and a broken arm had set back delving by a month. Now¡­ well, he¡¯d just gotten a new eyeball a few days ago, and he was exercising that elevated organ by carving a path through a brand new dungeon. James¡¯ life was weird. He loved it. And he also loved how the garden, or the garage, or maybe both, had one last surprise for him as they executed their plan to leave through the door and immediately telepad back to the lair. (Milestone - Wilding Watcher : +1 AP) The words, only for James and no one else, caused him to almost trip on the long flight of concrete stairs that led back to the ground floor of reality. Almost, because he actually did catch himself and kept moving so as not to trip up the others as well. Which, before he could even start vocalizing how incredibly bizarre and out of place this whole dungeon¡¯s reward scheme was, got him the second notification he was already expecting. (Walking : +1 level, 2 levels total) (1 AP spent, 0 AP remains) ¡°This place is so cool, and so bizarre, and I cannot wait to find out what I¡¯m missing and learn that I¡¯ve taken the least optimal build path in about three months.¡± James sighed out a long exhale that turned into a huff of laughter at the end. ¡°What if there isn¡¯t a limit to how much AP you get?¡± Morgan asked when James explained what the hell he was talking about. ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll be fine?¡± James patted Morgan on the head, the teenager twisting away at the seemingly patronizing gesture. ¡°That¡¯s a very kind thought, thank you.¡± He said. ¡°But if history is any indication, the best I can hope for is having stuff that¡¯s mildly useful and not, like, my orange job that lets me summon saffron.¡± Morgan gave James a pitying look, his mouth twisting as he looked at the older human with sad eyes. ¡°Oh, yeah, that¡­ that sucks. I still haven¡¯t gotten an orange cause Research keeps using them but I¡¯ll probably just get the diamond cube one? Cause I still help with the gardens anyway, you know?¡± ¡±Sometime you guys say this stuff,¡± Lincon said as he took Morgan¡¯s hand, all of them linking together while James pulled a telepad out, ¡°and I feel like I¡¯m going crazy. What are you even talking about?¡± ¡±Orbs.¡± Morgan and Color-Of-Dawn said in unison. ¡°We¡¯ll fill you in later.¡± Morgan added right before they teleported out. ¡°Oh, hey, after we clean up and stuff, you guys wanna play some Street Fighter? I got a new controller and Color-Of-Dawn can¡¯t beat me so easily anymore.¡± The camraconda jutted its snout up into the air right before the all vanished and reappeared in the Lair that clearly said that Morgan was exaggerating his newfound ability. James smiled as he sent them off in the aftermath of the delve. They¡¯d do a debriefing later, to get Morgan specifically into the pattern of it. But right now, he just let life resume for them. The dungeon just a small rock in the river of what had become their normal. His own build might be kinda messed up, but that was okay, he decided with a smile so wide that it hurt, and the hint of tears in the corners of his eyes. Because Morgan, and anyone else who followed after them, would know better. There was going to be a future for them. Though it might take James a little time, and a lot of luck, to secure it for them. Also more knights. Because no matter what he told people, he was starting to realize how much he needed weekends. Chapter 311 ¡°Death had to take Roosevelt sleeping, for if he had been awake, there would have been a fight.¡± -Vice President Thomas Marshall- _____ It was against all odds that a routine emerged. Not, critically, a schedule. James lived in a simmering stew of chaos and problems that came out of nowhere. Also schedules made his fingers itch. But a schedule and a routine were different things, and one of them he could handle, even if it was weird as hell. Because despite the chaos and the threats and the problems and the possible end of the world looming on the horizon from something that probably wasn¡¯t climate change but also definitely was climate change if the first apocalypse didn¡¯t work out, James kinda felt like he was having a relaxed time of things. His routine, erratic and eclectic, full of things that might confuse anyone who first had to get past the sentence ¡®okay, magic is real¡¯, unsuitable for basically anyone else, grew and flourished and eventually, began to stick. A real routine, of sorts, not just things he was doing. Every day, he woke up, took a hot shower that was molten even before he was magically upgraded and hadn¡¯t gotten any more bearable since then, and then made breakfast for someone. Sometimes it was Alanna and Anesh - veggie omelets and whatever fruit was left in their fridge - sometimes it included Auberdeen - bacon - or Sarah - also bacon, but when it was Alanna and Sarah together Alanna got the bacon she shrugged off while eating with Anesh. Sometimes it was Arrush, and there James would mix things up and make new things to share with his new boyfriend who had never had so many foods. Keeka and Anesh joined them sometimes too, and James was happy to do a little extra work to feed more people, though when he was staying over at Arrush¡¯s apartment in the Lair, no one else wanted to wake up at 5 AM like the big ratroach did. Honestly James didn¡¯t either, but he was the beneficiary of Sarah¡¯s ¡®sleep subsidy¡¯ program, so he made do. Once he was awake, clean, and fed, and equipped with his concealed arsenal of dungeontech, James got to work. He had given up entirely on the concept of office hours, because actually sitting in one place at a set time sounded like it just wouldn¡¯t work for him. But he did have a signup list for people who needed to talk to him, where they could leave their own availability, and James would start out working through as many of those as he could. Which was usually all of them. There wasn¡¯t really a gate on his time, this was his primary role in a way. Sometimes knights had questions about the responsibilities or options. Sometimes survivors had questions about what had happened to them, or where they were going from here. Sometimes people felt like they had something important James needed to know about, and sometimes people needed to know if James could learn something important for them. Sometimes, people who weren¡¯t human needed to know about very niche things and they trusted James to not be weird about explaining them. And so, part private investigator, part counselor, part leader, James fielded questions and had personal conversations with everyone who needed part of his time. That often took chunks of time throughout the day, as he caught up with people who were only around at night or were on delves. After the first wave of it though, he made sure to read priority reports from Research about new developments and weird magic intricacies. Just in case knowing would keep him alive sometime, and certainly so that he could look for weird interactions that the Order could leverage. What came next depended on what day it was. And also if he needed to rush to the Research basement to dive tackle someone, but mostly what day it was. They¡¯d gotten better about not blowing things up or creating terrifying entities. Every couple days, James teleported out to the isolated mountain cabin where Kiki was staying. James didn¡¯t need to go there to learn about the progress they were making - he knew the progress they were making, he read the reports, and he was aware it was almost no progress at all. No, he went there to hang out with Kiki. Her stay stretched on for a week, then another past what she¡¯d said she¡¯d stay for, then on toward a month. And things were going slow, but they were going. Her effects started to become noticable on the Research team, who were swapped out for a different group immediately, but that did set things back. James did regular check-ins, mostly to try to just not leave the non-pillar feeling isolated, but also to get to know her. They talked about his life more than hers. She loved hearing about his friend group and small stories from his past. And he in turn appreciated that she was an outside perspective on the Order who wasn¡¯t fully comfortable with them, but was willing to listen. Most of their conversations weren¡¯t strategic; he¡¯d already shared everything the Order knew about the other pillars, and she¡¯d shared what she could about what she knew about herself. Knowing that pillars felt a compulsion to act in accordance with their name was confirmed for James, but they both knew there were depths to it that couldn¡¯t be explained. Knowing that there were other dungeons was confirmed for Kiki, but she still wasn¡¯t ready to try touching one, even one as nice as Clutter. She had been ready for everything to end. And then James fucked that up by making her feel like things could be okay again. Every visit he made ended with her taking a long breath of the increasingly chilly forest air, and looking him dead in the eye, before telling him that she could maybe put off dying for another few days. On days when he wasn¡¯t doing that, instead, James was hosting lectures in the briefing warehouse. Which, while a little less personal, was a lot less emotionally heavy. For a lot of the Order¡¯s existence, the main way James recruited people was by saving their lives and then giving them a space to recover and grow, before trapping them in an intricate and delicate web of friends and opportunities. In contrast, the method of just hiring people through various means was a lot more direct. It also meant that the Order kept growing, which was good. And some of those people, from all different walks of life, were interested in being delvers. But just throwing people into the dungeons and explaining on site was a terrible idea actually. So James had prepared presentations of varying levels of depth on each of the dungeons, and employed the magic of public speaking to give people the information they needed in order to not get hurt or killed by something dumb. They took place in the briefing warehouse, and James did his best to respect people¡¯s time, while still hitting all the main dangers of the dungeons he was telling teams about. As well as constantly and consciously making it clear to new people what the Order expected their mindset to be. That new life forms weren¡¯t assumed to be monsters, that even hostility or aggression didn¡¯t mean something was a target, that relying on and trusting your team took priority over interpersonal issues but that those issues were still valid and could be addressed. Things like that. And then also what not to touch in the Akashic Sewer (everything) and what to be on the lookout for in the Climb (books but also don¡¯t touch anything there either just to be safe). James ate his lunches alone, just to unwind. Sitting in various parts of the Lair - or on the roof since he could do that now and it felt very dramatic to him - and watching life move on. People lived here. Worked here. The Lair wasn¡¯t like some city unto itself or anything; it was just a building in the middle of a mostly developed area, no matter how big it was inside. But the Order had given a lot of people a place, and James liked to just watch it all go by. Watch people chase errant iLipedes, or meet new people from sometimes literally different worlds, or practice little magics as they waited for a teleport ride. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, James conceded to some need for a schedule, and participated in training courses after lunch. Sometimes Nate ran them, sometimes it was Karen, and sometimes it was other people that James hadn¡¯t met yet but was getting familiar with the style of. Everyone focused on different things, but all of them pushed people to improve themselves. Though Nate pushed him in a very specific way, pitting James against his increasingly competent shield teams repeatedly. And when James proved he could handle that, adding more and more problems until the paladin hit another point where it required repeated attempts and developments to overcome. Complications like changing the environment, forbidding certain tactics or magics, adding one or two more whole shield teams, adding one whole Camille, or at one point straight up blindfolding James and making him do the whole thing trusting Zhu¡¯s guidance. That last one was great practice for both of them, the navigator pushed to learn how to give James movement impulses without the need for spoken words or phantom lines. In contrast, Karen asking him to work on snap decision making and disaster relief plans while also running an obstacle course was easy. Though it got less easy when exercise potions stretched it to marathon levels of endurance. All of it, though, made James a little sharper. Everyone had an idea of what a paladin should be able to do, and James thought they were all partly right, but overall wrong, because no one else seemed to think a paladin should be able to do all of it. Except him, and the other three paladins, who he felt even more sure about selecting as they took to the training with the same attitude as him. That was only part of his week though. Other days, his evenings were filled with making plans with groups of knights and the other paladins, with testing new magic, or with putting hours into developing his Garden spell list with as many pluses as he could manage. That last one was frustrating, because some of that magic was good, but it required practice to work it into his style of action, and every cast consumed the prepared spell. So even just training a handful of times on Appointed Arrival took hours of prep time. But James wasn¡¯t needed anywhere, and self-improvement now was extra leeway later. The other concession to a planned schedule was Saturdays. Because on Saturdays, James¡­ did not have a routine. On Saturdays, James took a break. A break that, no matter how much he loved his work and his role, he really needed. He spent time with his partners, hanging out and playing board games and watching movies together. Explaining why he loved The Fifth Element to Arrush and TQ, getting trounced by Anesh at any competitive game that involved statistics, and having long talks with Alanna about local politics. Going on walks together, and enjoying how as the days went by, there were fewer weird looks as people in the area got used to the nonhuman friends and lovers that James hung out with. He found a new cafe, which was a painful experience at first, but the memory of that trauma was slowly scarring over and leaving him with a painless anger. The new place was a Brazilian coffee shop that had tapioca bread as a food offering, which James ended up really loving. It wasn¡¯t familiar, and it didn¡¯t feel as welcoming right away, and it wasn¡¯t open until midnight, but it felt good to have somewhere to walk with his roommates when they wanted to restlessly hang out. And sometimes, he spent hours and hours alone. Just relaxing in his room or on the couch, playing video games or reading a book for fun and not because he was trying to cram a civilization¡¯s worth of civics lessons into his head. He had fun with some magic, instead of training to use it to save lives or fight monsters; enjoying the Officium Mundi headphones that generated power metal cover songs, or trying to entice his personal snow cat into playing with a laser pointer. He took a breather, and rested, and when his routine resumed he was more prepared for it than ever before. Throughout the Order, projects advanced, progress was made, people learned and healed and made fuckups that they had to learn and heal from, and magic was accumulated. Potential dungeon sites were scouted, potential enemies were probed, and potential great ideas were tested. More long delves were planned and executed when there were the numbers to make them safe. And plans for future expansion slowly shifted forward as things like the logisticor shipping project moved from plans on paper to the initial steps of on-location development. And while all of that was happening, James spent all that extra energy he got from his days off going on at least two standard delves a week. It was a good routine. _____ [+3 Skill Ranks : Geography - India - New Delhi] [+1 Emotional Resonance Rank : Appreciation] ¡±Well, at least I feel like I could appreciate this.¡± James commented, looking at the handful of dissipating glinting dust. ¡°Actually, yeah. I¡¯m gonna appreciate that I didn¡¯t accidentally waste a useful orb! Unless¡­¡± ¡±Good attitude.¡± Alanna slapped him on the shoulder as they moved deeper into the Office, leaving the remains of an ambush behind them. _____ When the Order of Endless Rooms rescued humans - a thing that happened on a concerningly consistent schedule - those people needed certain things. Help, obviously, but help in known forms. They needed a place to stay, they needed to have their agency restored, they almost certainly needed therapy, and it also never hurt to set them up with money, magic, or both, as a way to help secure their futures a little. As the Order kept expanding, and different experiments and initiatives were tried, there were also humans that needed other stuff as well. While a surefire way to lower homelessness was to give people homes, a lot of those people needed additional boosts to manage addiction, chronic health issues, or just the spectre of time spent isolated and without any social practice. And while they had a lot of money to pour into developing their programs, it was still development and not wide-scale execution. But even the most in need that the Order took in in ones and twos all too slowly still had a core of familiarity with Earth. No matter what city in what country they were brought from, they would know a language, they would know basic economic concepts like commerce and value, and they would at least be aware of the majority of social norms. Maybe they were terrible at managing money, and maybe they were an asshole who thought social norms were for suckers, but they had a framework. Banana did not have a framework. She didn¡¯t even have anyone in her life that looked like her. She was the only crow-wasp in the entire Order right now; a trait that almost no one else shared. Camracondas had a lot of camracondas. New ratroaches came in all the time. Even the crocamaws had a few others like themselves. Ben didn¡¯t count. Banana had met Ben, and looked up to him as someone that was cool and smart, but he also looked like a human, so he didn¡¯t count. It was probably for the best that Banana didn¡¯t know that there had been another crow-wasp, at one time, but that her maybe-sister hadn¡¯t made it. In addition to not having anyone that looked even a little like her, given how much her shaper surgery had changed her body, Banana just¡­ hadn¡¯t grown up. She had a brain that was capable of decision making and surprisingly clever tactical analysis, but she had been created to cause and feel pain, and then die shortly after, and the Akashic Sewer hadn¡¯t really done a single thing beyond what was needed for that. She had to learn language from the ground up, and even the most minor facts about human civilization, daily life, or social conduct, all had to be taught to her. In a way, she was almost the ¡®youngest¡¯ dungeon life they¡¯d ever found. Not a blank slate, but lacking in both practical and implanted knowledge. She wasn¡¯t a baby, but she couldn¡¯t exactly be left to her own devices. Banana¡¯s day to day life was different than she¡¯d expected it to be. Not that she¡¯d expected anything at all, but she didn¡¯t really consider things that way. Instead, things just sort of seemed like they happened, and she only really understood half the explanations that she asked for. Now that she wasn¡¯t staying in the hospital room all the time anymore, she needed a place to go. And while planning for the future wasn¡¯t her strong suit, she had, just a little bit, wondered if she would get to live with Alanna. The human that had been the first person to offer her compassion, who had brought her back here to be healed, who had visited so often, who had taken her out on short trips that Deb always seemed so annoyed about. Banana loved Alanna. But she was determined, because Alanna had explained how crowded her own apartment was getting, and also that she was already splitting her time and secretly running herself ragged taking care of her younger sisters, to not feel betrayed to have a different guardian. Ann was not the same as Alanna, despite having a name with most of the same letters. She was less expressive, and less familiar, and sometimes she seemed very angry at things, and Banana had been uncertain about staying with her at first. That feeling lasted three or four days - practically forever - until an incident with a broken picture frame and a cut hand had led to Ann patiently and effectively bandaging Banana¡¯s new manipulator, cleaning things up, and then coming to make sure she was okay and ask if she needed to talk about it. Banana hadn¡¯t really realized that she did. But Ann listened to her as she exercised her voice, stumbling to explain what had happened, and then carrying on to talk about so many other things that she hadn¡¯t thought to say. When Ann had offered her a firm hug and an apology, Banana had welcomed it. When her guardian had told her that things would be okay, and that she¡¯d try to be better, Banana had believed her, even if she didn¡¯t actually think Ann had done anything wrong. The young girl¡¯s view of the world was definitely skewed by her lack of context. And Ann had set about trying to fill in as much of that as she could. Banana was smart, but she could only focus for so long every day. Unless, Ann reminded herself with a smile, it was about marine biology. If she kept that passion for more than a few years, the kid would definitely be going into that as a lifelong passion kind of thing. In the meantime, she needed to learn the basics. So Ann tried to figure out what those actually were, working with Recovery and the other knights that had full-time charges, and then started teaching Banana one thing a day. One thing was easy. Classes were a lot, lectures were exhausting, but one thing? They could both do one thing. Here was how you safely used a microwave. This was the value of a dollar, and why people agreed on it. Laundry worked like this, and it was important for these reasons. Remember that it wasn¡¯t wrong to ask questions or apologize. Simple things at first, chores and safety tricks, how to not hurt yourself boiling rice, or what information you shouldn¡¯t reveal on the internet. But as days went by, and Banana assimilated lessons quickly, they both started changing how they approached each little lesson as things got more complex. How to not be a sore loser at a board game became a longer conversation on how to be kind at all, as Banana asked questions that even Ann didn¡¯t have good answers for. A day where Banana shadowed Ann on her less dangerous job working in the kitchen turned into a discussion about how they organized things, and economies of scale. A question about how to drive that turned into both of them looking up information about trains. There wasn¡¯t one specific day where Ann found herself racing to play catch up, but every now and then, she got the impression that Banana¡¯s brain was making up for lost time. The kid made a lot of mistakes, but Ann never punished her for them, they just talked them through and worked out how to not make the same mistakes again. Usually that worked, and when it didn¡¯t, well, the same Response training that she was applying to being a parent also worked for keeping her patience. Banana hadn¡¯t expected someone like Ann to be the person that helped her learn how to feed and dress herself, and Ann hadn¡¯t really expected to enjoy the process of what was functionally being a foster parent, but they got on well together. She didn¡¯t spend all her time at ¡®home¡¯ though. Not in the apartment anyway. She could walk now, and talk, and touch things, and be outside, and while outside-outside was scary and huge and bright, there was no way that Banana was going to stay in a few rooms. Even if they were nice rooms! Sometimes she went out with Ann, and spent time around the other knights that had their own charges. And Banana found that her voice was a lot harder to use when there were new people around. Especially when some of those new people were, like her, more than a little shy. She spent a few of those gatherings sitting quietly, feeling torn between saying something to the other new life, and trying to hide inside her wings. It was at one of those gatherings that Banana overheard a term from one of the knights. She didn¡¯t understand the whole context of the conversation about where the crocamaw had come from or what it had been ¡®used for¡¯ before coming to the Order, but she heard the knight use the word ¡®unfamiliar¡¯ to describe him. And Banana knew what a familiar was, because she¡¯d been watching a brightly colored cartoon with Ann every night about a witch girl. And the character had a normal familiar. So an unfamiliar must be something similar. Maybe she was an unfamiliar too. It sounded fun; like she was a companion, but not something summoned, maybe. She liked the word, and decided to steal it for herself and for the others. She just had to find a way to tell them first. One of the places that Banana spent a lot of her free time was in the lobby of the Lair. Because the lobby had a large collection of aquariums and terrariums, and so it had fish and bugs and frogs and also a slime thing that she could look at and learn animal facts related to. Well, except the slime. There was no wikipedia entry for it, for some reason. But the rest! And it was there that Banana had met one other human. Her name was Ava, and she was smaller than Banana was and like most humans only had half as many legs, but she still decided that she was Banana¡¯s older sister. She seemed to have a lot of younger siblings, and she kept getting more, which meant it was a different kind of sibling than the other version of it, which mostly just reinforced Banana¡¯s theory that you could use words for whatever you wanted. But also, Ava liked frogs, and was excited to tell Banana about frogs when they had both been sitting near the terrariums, and so Banana had a new lifelong friend who she was perfectly willing to kill for if that ever came up. Banana asked Ava how to approach new people, especially scary people, and Ava and her other younger sister Hidden had given her a series of rapid fire ideas that Banana remembered exactly nothing from. But she came away from the encounter feeling encouraged and determined to try something anyway, because Ava had made her feel like she could do anything. Then later that day when she and Ann went to have food in the Lair¡¯s big dining area and there were other young unfamiliars there, she¡¯d purposefully sat herself next to one of the new crocamaws that always looked like he was waiting for something bad to happen. Banana had prepared a series of crocodile facts to share, even if he wasn¡¯t actually a crocodile, because everyone loved crocodile facts. Then shyness and trepidation had taken over, and her attempt to get her table neighbor¡¯s attention had devolved into her and the crocamaw staring at each other with growing panic. When Banana felt like she had to say something, she¡¯d found her voice, and in a buzzing squawk, declared that the crocamaw could probably fit her whole head in his mouth. The knights sitting with them had gone quiet as the two had stared at each other, before the scaly boy with the fanged maw making up half his body mass had blinked his slitted yellow eyes, and then he¡¯d made a high pitched squeaking noise that had resolved itself into a sheepish giggle. Banana, her hide shifting to an embarrassed neon green underneath her feathers and fur, had taken a moment to think before deciding that was a good outcome, and joined him in laughter. They were friends now. Though he was just as jumpy as she¡¯d been when she¡¯d escaped the Sewer. Almost as bad as some of the ratroaches were. She¡¯d surprised him by accident a few days later and he¡¯d nearly hit something vital with his claws, but while Banana was still learning the ins and outs of social structure and the impossibly complex subject of mental health, she didn¡¯t blame her new friend. She couldn¡¯t, even when it hurt. Because she¡¯d done the same thing before to Ann, coming out of a nightmare screaming and trying to kill whatever was closest. She knew the truth. He was hurting more than she was. And he apologized when she saw him again a week later, tears pouring in rivulets across his long downturned face. By then, she¡¯d had the stitches taken out, and was more concerned with the fact that Ann had been asking her about if she wanted to go to ¡®school¡¯ in the upcoming month. And Banana didn¡¯t know. She didn¡¯t really know what it meant, but she knew it would be an obligation and a lot of people, even though it would also be something to do that would let her safely leave the Lair and see a new place. So she accepted her friend¡¯s apology, and they sat together by the front window of the Lair to watch the terrarium with stickbugs in it and talk about how afraid they were together. Banana hadn¡¯t really expected anything at all out of her life. So all of this, everything from getting to know Ann, to visiting Alanna sometimes, to eating new foods, to making friends, to learning just how little she actually knew. All of it. It was all¡­ special. She had left the hospital, changed, hoping for little more than being able to hang around one specific human forever. But now, she found herself hoping that life would be special for a very long time. _____ Getting the book had been a trial-and-error kind of thing, because according to Ethan who had somehow become their Climb expert, the mountain dungeon changed its map based on who was in it. Though really, the trials and errors were all about navigation with different party members around messing up the map. Getting the book itself was easy. Almost too easy, compared to just getting there, but James wasn¡¯t complaining. The long necked riding lawnmower fanning out wings of frosted wood and metal was clearly aware someone was nearby, but it was doing a bad job punching through the leveler earring¡¯s invisibility and anti-hostility power. Thought it was trying. Violently. James touched the spine of the flat blank thing that would soon turn into a spellbook. And he was asked which of the three things that had most helped him get here was important to him. He was tempted to pick ¡®teamwork¡¯, but that wasn¡¯t why he was here. He looked beyond, to the list of lesson and skill ranks and spells and orbs. There would be time for the Order¡¯s list of test cases later. Right now, he picked the purple orb that gave him more brainpower for location memory, because what mattered was helping Zhu while it was still an option. The spell text dropped into his hand, a pristine and heavy textbook. But that was for someone with spell slots to check in depth later, because right then the team needed to get the fuck away from the dragon. _____ Ink-And-Key was irate. And not just because he still needed to make decisions on a half dozen different things. Most of the decisions were small, but every small decision left hanging added to the pressure until none of them could be addressed without panic. And on top of that, one large important thing pressed down like the machine that they used to test material density. Cathy had asked him - him - if he wanted to be one of the knights taking care of the new people. Which was silly of course. Ink-And-Key could barely take care of himself. He relied on others for food and shelter, and in a roundabout way and with application of the internet, he relied on them more for any other material things he needed. He wasn¡¯t even legally considered a person by any human agency, and yet, Cathy had asked him to take in a young and scared and potentially dangerous crocamaw. Of course Ink-And-Key was an idiot, so he hadn¡¯t instantly said no. And now the pressure of needing to say no weighed further on all other decisions, and the camraconda approximation of a stomach in his body felt like it was burning from the stress, which was probably not healthy. This added more stress, naturally. Being stressed made him irate. A simple chain of logic, with the simple solution of giving people actual answers and making actual choices. But he had learned early in his time at the Lair that simple and easy were separate things. Another thing to be irate about; life should not be this much of a struggle to get through. A life of freedom should not feel harder than a life imprisoned in a dungeon tower. His discomfort seeped into his mood as his day began. The apartment that he shared with his brother - a word that was incorrect but close enough - had been modified for camraconda convenience, but he still ended up using too much force from his heavy body to open doors and pull his speaking rig off its hooks. That same brother, Paper-And-Words, found him while he was clattering around in the kitchen, a mercifully durable glass coffee pot dangling from one of his fangs as he made coffee rather deftly for someone without hands. ¡±You appear agitated.¡± Paper-And-Words opened with. ¡°I know this, because I am perceptive.¡± It added with a sleepy hiss, having been pulled from nest by the noise. ¡±I am fine.¡± Ink-And-Key lied. His brother¡¯s synthetic voice was actually quite smooth and natural in its inflictions, guided by a version of the program that they used that he had quite a bit of practice with. It was the words themselves that came across as unfamiliar. Ink-And-Key, in contrast, was the other way around. His voice was clearly artificial, but he didn¡¯t care. The words, and the use of them to share feelings, that was what was important. ¡°I am making coffee. How much coffee do you want? The machine has no limitations beyond time.¡± ¡±That does not sound correct. But I will have a small amount, thank you.¡± Paper-And-Words replied, slithering up the carpeted ramp to the incomplete circle of a couch that surrounded their table. It was a strange amalgamation of furniture; part bespoke camraconda mobility aid, part¡­ kitchen table from IKEA. Ink-And-Key loved IKEA. He had never been, but the concept was brilliant. Unified logistical efficiency, with no room for doubt or misunderstanding. One of those human wonders that he found the humans never really appreciated properly. The white-cabled camraconda took a moment to try to calm down as he made coffee. Making a mental attempt, as his therapist had suggested, to be appreciative of the good side of being the largest of his species, he considered that it was helpful to be able to reach things on the counter without needing help. It didn¡¯t quite work, but he was steady enough when the coffee finished to deftly grip the pot and carry it to the table where he poured it into bowls for himself and his brother. ¡±I am grateful to humanity for coffee.¡± He said, his constant anxiety making him worry that he should be filling the time with conversation. ¡°But I would like a pot with fang handles.¡± Paper-And-Words irised its lens at its brother, tilting sideways as he mentally set aside the book it was reading on his skulljack. ¡°Humans will be disappointing you.¡± The camraconda stated. ¡°Common.¡± What was common was the small but repeated disagreements they had about the nature of their hosts. Ink-And-Key suppressed a hiss, instead flicking his tongue into his coffee, enjoying the heat and the sparkling tingle of caffeine, if not the flavor. ¡°I like humans.¡± He said. ¡°I think you are unfair. I think maybe I should tell you that more, instead of saying nothing.¡± His brother pulled back from flicking a long tongue into its own drink, looking at Ink-And-Key with a steady gaze that had been familiar long before they had come to this place. ¡°Unfair?¡± It asked in an ironically human voice. The issue of their disagreement was simple, really. Ink-And-Key had seen quite a lot of the world through the pseudo-magic of the internet, and thought it was a nice place. He wanted to live in that world, and with those people. Maybe not to actually interact with the people, but he could live alongside them at least. In contrast, Paper-And-Words had been increasingly upset and angry at the various failings humanity had to offer. And while Ink-And-Key couldn¡¯t exactly say his brother was wrong, or even that his feelings were invalid, yes, he did think Paper-And-Words was being unfair. ¡°Humans made nice things. And they helped us, when they didn¡¯t have to. I appreciate them.¡± Ink-And-Key said, ducking his body almost flat against the table, looking out of their living room window toward the inside-outside courtyard in the Lair¡¯s basement. He didn¡¯t want to meet Paper-And-Words¡¯ gaze. ¡°They aren¡¯t that bad.¡± ¡±You had been shot.¡± Paper-And-Words dropped a lot of its inflection, voice strangely warped as it spoke. ¡°They shot you. You could have died. I do not want to have humans near us. They do that. They shoot things. Like us.¡± ¡±Those humans.¡± Ink-And-Key didn¡¯t like being reminded of that. He¡¯d been in too many fights, enough for his entire life really. ¡°What about these humans? They¡­ I was hurt because I was helping. Because we were helping. We has humans in it.¡± Paper-And-Words gave a rapid series of staccato hisses as it spoke. ¡°These humans do not count. Our most normal human is an outlier.¡± ¡±Townton.¡± Ink-And-Key replied, still not looking at his brother. ¡°What about Townton, and all the humans there?¡± Paper-And-Words¡¯ voice started to stabilize. ¡±You are supposed to be the smart one. You know Townton is different.¡± ¡±Different how?¡± ¡±Different.¡± They stopped talking, one out of protest, one because he thought he¡¯d made his point. Outside, in the underground and yet healthy garden, someone laughed loudly; one of their human neighbors in conversation with someone. It was never truly silent here. But there was nothing spoken in their home for a span of moments. Ink-And-Key pulled air into his body in a long breath. ¡°Townton has humans, and they are nice. Even Camille is nice. But terrifying. But also nice, and I don¡¯t think I will call her terrifying, because I do not want to make her sad.¡± His brother made a dismissive hissing. ¡°Camille is not an human. Does not count.¡± ¡±I think that she identifies as a human.¡± Ink-And-Key said, stretching back to sit up on the couch and take another flicking sip of coffee. ¡°Regardless of her origin.¡± ¡±That does not change her!¡± Paper-And-Words insisted with a volume to his words that Ink-And-Key almost flinched at. Almost, but not quite. Because now that he was talking, now that he had a conversation going, he found that his anxiety was secondary to intellectual joy. There was something fun about making points and sharing information, once you got past the initial barrier of being terrified to say anything at all. ¡°Does it not matter? There is a mindset within the Order that puts ¡®human¡¯ as a meta-category of being, within which there are different species. An umbrella for those who wish to unify-¡° Paper-And-Words cut him off, which was doubly awkward for camracondas when their words had often been sent to the speaking program in a batch and could not be easily stopped without quick reflexes. ¡±That is stupid. They should pick a better word than human.¡± His brother angrily lapped at his coffee. ¡°Stealing the idea of equality for themselves.¡± He added with clear anger. Ink-And-Key realized suddenly that he found Paper-And-Words reply to be almost adorable, in a petulant way. His not-exactly-younger brother truly acting the part of someone who needed just a little bit of help to avoid falling into a dark mentality. ¡°I do not disagree. Instead I wish to tell you that we are outliers too. We are weapons that are learning to be free. I am sure that, should our species grow into the future, no amount of hope from our paladin will stop us from having an equal share of idiots.¡± He curved his body, twisting around in a satisfyingly aching stretch. ¡°I worry. I worry about our future. I worry about my own today. I worry about everything and I am scared all the time. But I am not scared of humanity. Only of some humans. I will not be afraid of a category.¡± ¡±I¡­¡± Paper-And-Words trailed off, an effect that meant something very specific when a camraconda did it. ¡°Paladins.¡± It said with a sudden sharp hiss and a focusing of his lens. ¡±Paladins?¡± Ink-And-Key drooped as he repeated the word, wondering if perhaps he had said too much, or failed to make his point. But then Paper-And-Words bobbed slowly at him. ¡°Yes. Paladins. I was¡­ I was going to say a thought. Say it is good that one of them is one of us. But I though it. And I recoil, because they are all of us, and I have¡­ I have read human history.¡± He hissed as he spoke, the old original pattern of sounds for doubt and anger. ¡°I can see that I am drawing lines. Terrible lines. The same ones that make humans disappoint me.¡± ¡°For all that they are disappointing, humans have done well recording their own failures.¡± Ink-And-Key found himself replying almost instantly, fearing that letting the vulnerable statement his brother had made sit for too long might make both of them uncomfortable. ¡°They have been horrible. But they are teaching us.¡± ¡±We do not need to give them credit for that.¡± Paper-And-Words was back to sounding casually bemused now. Ink-And-Key hissed a laugh, checking the time as he drank his coffee down to the bottom of the bowl. ¡°No, no, you are correct. I agree. And now I must go. I have avatar practice.¡± ¡±I am sorry. I know you are hate that.¡± He rose to his full height, body extended as he slithered off the table¡¯s couch carefully enough so as not to slam into the floor and bother their downstairs neighbors. ¡°I hate¡­¡± he gave his own purposeful pause, displaying the moment of thought and consideration put into his next words. ¡°I hate what I have needed to do with it. I hate that those other humans have made my weaponness something useful again. I hate that I know it will be needed again and that I will not say no when it is time.¡± He turned back and looked at Paper-And-Words, who was watching him with a focused stare. Ink-And-Key let his fangs show in a camraconda mimicry of a human smile. ¡°But I do not mind it. I find the sensation of pure connection comforting. I trust myself to so many people, and they do not betray me, and it makes me better than I could be alone.¡± He turned and headed down their front hallway, using the hooks mounted on the wall to wrap himself in a soft and warm cloak, pinning it across his body with a deft maneuver that had become second nature to him. He had just begun to leverage the door open when his brother spoke behind him, staring down at the remnants of his own coffee. ¡±A significant metaphor.¡± Paper-And-Words said quietly, its warm voice deeply contemplative. Ink-And-Key started to nod, then stopped himself, trying very hard to not just agree with whatever was said. ¡°Maybe.¡± He replied instead. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t for anything.¡± He felt like he¡¯d really gotten a good last word in, and was feeling quite pleased with himself. Right up until he was all the way to the elevator and realized that the whole conversation should have pivoted at the point when he could have told Paper-And-Words that the person who¡¯d shot him in Utah hadn¡¯t actually been human. He¡¯d remember later. _____ It was while ¡®studying¡¯ the Charm River Transformation spellbook after an Akashic Sewer delve and a new labratoad rescue that James got a completely new piece of information shoved into his thoughts. Something that had never come up from either the Garden, or the Garage, but was clearly of both of them. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. [(Link Set | Breathing <> Charm River Transformation | -20% air required)] The number was large enough that verifying what it did was really easy. While he was working on that specific spellbook, he needed to breathe roughly one fifth less. Or¡­ probably precisely one fifth less, if they studied him down to the microscopic level. Magic was like that sometimes. James didn¡¯t care. He was too busy getting into excited conversations with as many people as he could about what it meant that the intertwined dungeons were blended not just on the physical level, but inside their boons as well. The implications were massive. Probably. Since they had no idea what it meant yet, the implications could actually be pretty trivial. But it felt like something huge. _____ ¡°Thank you for taking this shift.¡± Smoke-And-Ember¡¯s eternally placid synthesized voice wasn¡¯t the loudest conversation happening in the Response staging room, but it was perfectly pitched for Marlea to hear it. Because Marlea was cheating. One of her four bodies had excellent hearing, and that one was focusing exclusively on the camraconda. A neat trick she¡¯d started working on before the addition of her newest¡­ newest something. She had wanted to say ¡®piece¡¯, but while she meant it as a form of ¡®every piece of a grand puzzle¡¯, it sounded too mechanical and creepy. The people that made her weren¡¯t components, they were the whole point. She¡¯d written a lot about her experience as an actual hive mind, but she still hadn¡¯t come up with a good word for what each element should be called. ¡±Yeah yeah, no problem.¡± The body that was presenting as her face waved a hand. ¡°I figure, I know how it all works now, more or less, so why not help out? Also Ann asked.¡± ¡±Yes, she has been busy lately.¡± Smoke-And-Ember nodded. ¡°And my normal partner is currently risking death. And I did not want a random assignment.¡± Marlea cracked a smile. ¡±What, afraid you won¡¯t get a worryingly powerful chick as your sidekick?¡± She asked. The camraconda hissed in a way she didn¡¯t know how to identify yet, but was pretty sure was amusing. ¡°No. I am the sidekick. But otherwise correct.¡± ¡±¡­Aight, sure.¡± Marlea¡¯s presenting body leaned back in the metal frame chair, scraping it against the linoleum floor in a terrible screech as she raised her arms back over her head. Two of her bodies sipped at the surprisingly good coffee down here, unaware that she was in the process of amping up her reflexes to superhuman levels. ¡°Is it just me or is it kinda quiet down here today?¡± She asked. Smoke-And-Ember curled to the side in a shrug. ¡°It is sporadic.¡± He told her. ¡°Sometimes, there is no time to rest, and we are good protagonists. Sometimes, we have spare minutes for card games.¡± ¡±Ooh, poker?¡± ¡±No, better card games.¡± ¡±Damn, they got to you too.¡± Marlea shook her heads in quiet mourning. ¡°I¡¯m bringing a deck of cards next time and you get to learn Texas hold ¡®em. We can bet orbs!¡± Smoke-And-Ember narrowed his lens at her, leaning forward slightly to peer up into the set of eyes she was currently being most coy with. ¡°You plan to rob me.¡± He accused her. ¡±Nah, I¡¯d feel guilty and give them back afterward. But maybe not all of them. It¡¯s only fun if there¡¯s real stakes.¡± Marlea wasn¡¯t exactly sure why she felt that way, which was a fascinating novelty. None of her constituent lives had felt that way, but she did. The philosophical and epistemological implications were staggering. ¡°So, not that I¡¯m complaining about being bored, because my plans for tonight were shot to hell anyway, but how long do you think we¡¯ll be sitting around doing nothing?¡± The camraconda looked back down at the slightly chewed book he had open on the table, resuming his reading. ¡°I am guessing any moment-¡° on the other side of the room, a three person Responder team got a notification they were needed, and rose to move at a jog through the clear path to the door. They already knew what their expected task was, and in under a minute, they¡¯d have any extra equipment they¡¯d need and be handed a filled out telepad to deploy to somewhere on Earth to help whoever had called. ¡°-nevermind.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said, not looking up. ¡°It will be longer.¡± ¡±Well why wasn¡¯t that us!¡± Marlea asked rhetorically. She did know; one of her had Responder training, and another one had been in a shield team and had gotten something similar. She was aware that the group was probably picked because of some specific skillset, or just because they were next in line. She was griping, and it wasn¡¯t really fair of her. But also she was bored. All her extra ability to think and process and it turned out Marlea could still get bored. It wasn¡¯t even like she got bored faster either; it was the most perfectly crystallized human aspect of her new existence. Boredom. Normal, and pure. And also boring. Smoke-And-Ember didn¡¯t humor her frustrations. ¡°There is a small library of books you could read. They have Transmetropolitan. You might like it. It is strange.¡± ¡±Is it ever weird to you that you have a kind of idea of what¡¯s strange and what¡¯s not?¡± Marlea asked, the two of her that weren¡¯t on their second cups of coffee staring up at the tiled ceiling. ¡±No.¡± She waited for more to follow, but found that Smoke-And-Ember was actually reading his book. ¡°You wanna¡­ expand on that?¡± ¡±If I found it weird, it would be hypocritical.¡± He stated. ¡°Because I should not know what is weird.¡± ¡±¡­Touche.¡± That was a word she¡¯d been gleefully incorporating from her newest member. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not annoying you, am I?¡± ¡±No. I enjoy your company.¡± Smoke-And-Ember looked up, long tongue flicking across his fangs as he looked between a few of her arrayed bodies. ¡°Ah, I was going to ask. What plans did you have that you gave up to sit here and be bored?¡± The grimace was powerful enough that it moved across all four of Marlea¡¯s faces. ¡°Eh. Date.¡± She said, sweeping a hand out in the most dismissive motion she could make. ¡°Or something. Turns out, exactly the thing I knew was going to be a problem, is a problem.¡± ¡±Scheduling.¡± Smoke-And-Ember bobbed in a knowing nod. ¡±Sch¡­ no!¡± She laughed, caught off guard by the profound confidence the camraconda had used. ¡°Dude, no. I can schedule. I could use a whole brain just as a calendar. I can schedule.¡± She sighed, and one of her other voices picked up the conversation. ¡°Nah, the guy was¡­ I mean, I figured I¡¯d date outside the Order, you know? Try to not be weird about it. And he basically only said yes cause he thought it meant infinite free threesomes.¡± Smoke-And-Ember gave a long, shallow hiss. ¡°I am sorry.¡± He said with such earnest sympathy that it caught her off guard. ¡°I understand that must be frustrating.¡± ¡±Yeah, well. Whatever. Besides¡­¡± She kept switching and overlapping voices, which she had noticed herself doing when she got agitated. ¡°Like¡­ okay, look. I actually would love some sex, okay? I can say that here, right? Yeah, I can say that, this place is cool with weirder stuff. Anyway. But when he found out that I was actually serious about being the same person, his stupid banal fantasy suddenly took second place to being a coward.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± The camraconda said, maw cracking open to show half his fangs. ¡°He broke off your plans.¡± ¡±Yeah.¡± Marlea wasn¡¯t sure why it felt so easy to talk about this with someone she was only kind of a passing acquaintance with. Though at least it was something that kept all her brains spinning, and kept her from feeling nervous about working with Response today. The nerves had been a part of the process even when that was what one of her was doing normally, and just because there was more of her now didn¡¯t mean they¡¯d gone away. ¡±Foolish.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said. Marlea winced again. ¡°Yeah, I know. But I-¡° ¡±No. Him.¡± Marlea¡¯s shift partner cut her off, pivoting to look between the two of her presently speaking. ¡°If someone gifts you everything you want, you should not run away. I would not run if someone gave me what I wanted.¡± ¡±They still won¡¯t give you the fireball gun, will they?¡± She smiled at him, knowing enough from overheard complaints and past conversations to see where this was going. ¡±No! And I would be perfect for it!¡± He hissed out placid laughter, pushing himself up on his own tail to look her more directly in the eyes. ¡°But that is not my point. I would not cancel plans with you.¡± He said. Marlea gave him a selection of coy grins in reply. ¡°What, are you flirting with me now?¡± She asked, her presenting body leaning forward on an elbow. ¡±Correct.¡± Smoke-And-Ember¡¯s blunt response took a second to hit, but when it did, her eyes widened and she nearly slipped forward off the limb bracing her. ¡°I have,¡± he explained, ¡°watched many humans here flirt. You are all bad at it. So I am trying other things until one works.¡± ¡±¡­wait seriously?¡± Marlea wasn¡¯t sure what was happening anymore. Smoke-And-Ember¡¯s tightly corded cable face pulled back to show his fangs again as he smiled at her in a way that didn¡¯t seem quite natural on a camraconda. ¡°Only if you want.¡± He replied. ¡°If not, then we can pretend this was a joke. See? Honesty, but also an available escape! This is optimized flirting.¡± Marlea might have stared at him with at least one of her mouths open for longer than was socially polite. Around them, the other Response teams kept talking or eating or napping or trying to bribe the vending machine. The room didn¡¯t get any quieter. But it did feel like she was in a bit of a spotlight, and more than she normally felt too. ¡±¡­You know what?¡± She eventually settled on. ¡°You¡¯re way more fun than anyone else I¡¯ve tried dating so far. Fuck it. Yeah. Wanna get a drink after this? When do you get off, anyway?¡± ¡±I accept. And I believe the ideal time to get off is following you.¡± Smoke-And-Ember said with the kind of unholy timing that always happened in conversations in public spaces, where everyone around them got just quiet enough to hear that specific sentence. Marlea¡¯s front facing body was, mercifully, the one that was least prone to blushing, but it still buried her face in her arms on the table, wheezing with laughter, while her other bodies tried to look anywhere else. ¡°Oh my god.¡± She barked out without meaning to. ¡°You can¡¯t just say that!¡± ¡±Oh. Are you sure? It seems to be working excellently so far.¡± Smoke-And-Ember leaned forward to bump the end of his snout into the top of her head. ¡°Do not forget to breathe. Most humans need that!¡± He added helpfully. And then, before he could say anything else, there was a ping through their skulljack connection. ¡°Ah.¡± The camracond said, and though his tone didn¡¯t change, his entire demeanor shifted. From playful and teasing to focused and serious. ¡°We are needed. Are you ready?¡± ¡±Oh yeah.¡± Marlea was already moving. Or at least, the two bodies wired on reflex coffee were, having reacted to the message before the rest of her, in a weird sort of dissociative way. She would need to be careful about that. ¡°Let¡¯s go be useful.¡± Because teleporting into a crisis situation was a lot easier than whatever the hell was happening here at this table. ¡°And after, some form of date.¡± Smoke-And-Ember somehow said it with pure confidence without being too smug. ¡°We can discuss magic and other things.¡± ¡°I¡¯m actually cool with that.¡± Marlea said as all of her followed the camraconda in a vanguard. ¡°Hey, there¡¯s some new Climb spell that lets you make snow castles. Like sand castles, but-¡° Her new date twisted to gaze at her with his lens while their dispatcher finished writing their telepad. ¡°I have been to a beach, I know what- ah, thank you Marcus. We will finish this chat later.¡± And off they went, to be useful. _____ [+2 Material Ranks : Iron - Meteoric] ¡±That¡¯s amazing.¡± James said with a happy laugh. ¡±Amazing good or amazing you¡¯re dying to share trivia this reminded you of about something niche with me?¡± Anesh asked. ¡±That second one!¡± James added a tally to the number of kisses he wanted to give his boyfriend once they¡¯d cleaned all the ichor off. ¡°So, the thing about early human metallurgy¡­¡± _____ He didn¡¯t have a name. He¡¯d never needed one. Never even considered that he would need one. Liberation had come with an overwhelming flood of the new, to the point that it had left many kith reeling and shocked into inaction. Himself included. Even the simple concept of ¡®himself¡¯ was something that he had struggled with. In the dark, in the cage, there was no purpose to it. Sometimes kith would be forced to mate, and it - he - had been selected for the process twice, but the idea of a gender being a component had been¡­ a distant consideration. Consideration was new. It was painful and bright and it was glorious in all that it offered. He wasn¡¯t foolish, he just didn¡¯t know things yet, and there were so very very many things to know. Learning came slowly, because every singular thing that needed to be learned required the learning of two other fragments, and sometimes there was no end to the context. You just had to accept a truth on trust and struggle forward. Which led to the idea of names. Names were special. Names were mundane. Names were everything and nothing. To some people a name was the same as a herd brand, and to others it was a sigil of their agency. But to many of the humans, and even some of the others as well, names were simply a useful daily too. They said them, in their clumsy-precise speaking words, and achieved a hundred purposes. Grabbing attention, drawing notice, offering respect or praise, communicating disappointment, or the ever present utility of simply telling two people apart in a conversation. This was very useful to him, because telling the different humans apart was a challenge. Some of them were different colors, either their bodies or their hair or their eyes. But then they covered or dyed half those things with yet different colors that they changed constantly, and while ¡®clothing¡¯ was a concept that he was now familiar with and understood better, it was still irritating. So names were useful. But he didn¡¯t have one. None of his kind did yet, and that took more thinking. He walked the safe soft space as he thought about it, feeling the voice of the others and adding his own consideration to it. It was never the dominant sensation, but it was almost always a ribbon these days. The process of thinking, and of questioning, was becoming more and more familiar. More¡­ not allowed. It was always allowed here. But now they knew that it was. It had been a moment of revelation to hear the voice of the others for the first time. Almost as much as being taken from the dark. But after that, revelations came fast and frequent. He spoke a language now, not just a voice, and the others could understand him. And in turn, he could understand them. They were¡­ they were not alien. They were not monsters. None of them were. They were not like the first others; a different group with a different voice. That had been so very hard to believe. Understanding it had been simple, actually. But believing? Who could. Who could ever. Even the kith who had been touched by the mind of one of the others hadn¡¯t really thought they would keep their promise. Mostly because promises seemed like such an abstract and impossible thing. Tomorrow was just as new as names - a dream that might never come true, and so, stopped being a dream out of fear of the pain that came from never having it. All those dreams had to be relearned. How to speak, how to learn, how to have names, how to think past right now. He lost himself in thought so deeply that he didn¡¯t notice as he moved out of the soft space and into the rest of the person place. The road was a crisp texture under his unguarded tips, the people here were others and not kith, but no one stopped him as he walked. They never did, and, he was beginning to believe, they never would. There were new rules here, just as there had been rules in the dark. But the rules in the light were like the soft place. Easier, kinder, for no reason other than because they wanted to be it seemed. It was so easy to follow them, because they were about not doing things, and it was very simple to not hurt anyway. The others didn¡¯t even stop them from using their voice, even when the voice was full of pain and sorrow that had been bottled up for lifetimes; instead they sheltered them. Gave them the soft place. Gave them new food, and new tools. And some of the others joined the voice. Only a few now, and only a little bit, but he knew now that they could hear it. They listened to the outpouring of pain and anger and despair, and then¡­ they moved to try to make it go away. Not with a culling or a painful punishment, but with quiet speaking words and gentle touches. And when that wasn¡¯t enough, they changed themselves to join the voice and add their confidence and hope to it. Things were changing. He knew, as he passed one of the others that was familiar if only because she was sharply watchful and also the only one with wings, that his kind were not going to remain themselves. Not going to remain as they were. And wasn¡¯t that wonderful. Because what they were was, he decided, not very good. Good and bad were new thoughts too. New things that took a long time to figure out. Long nights of staring at the sky things, and long days of wondering why his assigned nest was so soft. Watching the others, moving in protective groups so as to never be taken while alone. So that when he was eventually taken away, someone would know. But no one was ever taken. Because that would be bad. And slowly, some of them started moving in smaller groups. Which was neither good nor bad. But they did it because they felt safer. And that was good. Indira had explained the two ideas repeatedly, and he had chosen to use her as one of the others that he trusted for starting points in learning new things. She had also added to the voice, and helped create the shared language that he knew how to speak a little now. And she had been one of the ones that he and the kith had chosen to bring to¡­ to¡­ There wasn¡¯t a word for it. Not in the new language, not in the voice, not in his thoughts either. They had brought their eggs with them when they had been pulled out of the dark, because that was the only thing that made them valuable enough to keep alive. That was knowledge passed down, just like how they should never use their voice. They had to be valuable, because if there was no next group, then everyone died sooner. It was something he had, like everyone else, forced himself not to think about. But now things were different. But, they still didn¡¯t really know how different. Trust wasn¡¯t a word he had actually understood, until that day when the eggs had opened, and the small unshelled new ones had been pulled free. And as they had always done, because to not do it meant more death, he had helped in presenting them to the others. And the children had been treated with reverence and love, flavors almost audible in the voice even from the others who didn¡¯t speak that way. They¡¯d been handed back, entrusted back to the kith, though there had been a lot of visits from the others that liked to poke and prod. He stopped, then moved out of the way of the group of kith that were waiting to be given food from one of the places where the others made the good smelling food, then stopped again. They had children now. Would the children have names? Would they be different, spending their days growing up without having to wait for death? Would they be smarter, if they could think and learn their whole lives instead of just for the most recent cluster of days? What would their names be? Would they be in the voice, or in the speaking words? Or something else? Which one was good? That question would require so much thought and consideration that he wasn¡¯t sure if he would ever be able to make it to the answer before his own death, no matter how far away it was now. And besides that. How could he say what a good name was, when he didn¡¯t have one himself? It was confusing and strange to worry about the future of someone else who wasn¡¯t even really in the voice yet, so much so that he stopped walking along the solid dark line that the others used to travel, and lowered his shell down toward the crispy ground to let himself focus on the thought. The thought was a challenge. The circular nature of it spun in his mind over and over. They needed something, because there was a tool that everyone else among the others used. But how could it be given if neither he nor any of the kith had that tool? It seemed like it should be easy, in the way that others like Indira were fond of saying that things were ¡®easy¡¯ when they really were not. There were certain things that were simply too unfamiliar, thoughts that led in circles or into a fog of confusion, that there was simply no way to resolve without help. He was still going to try, because asking for help was one of those concepts that was still too unfamiliar to feel real, and it just didn¡¯t occur. But then there was a sound next to him and motion seen through the wide arc of peripheral vision as one of the others sat down next to him on the cracked grey part of the ground that had little bits of soft green in it. ¡±You doing alright there?¡± He recognized this other. Its name was Prince, and it looked different from all the others that used the shape. Prince was actually a different color or shape very often, but was always recognizable to the kith despite that. It was good. Being recognizable was helpful. The speaking words would have been impossible to understand in the early days, but now, practicing the in-between language, he could make out the meaning in them. Prince was asking a question, but it wasn¡¯t really a question. It was a request for how to help. He could almost hear the real voice in it - the others had the voice, they just didn¡¯t use it the same. You had to see it in the way their bodies moved, in the key of their speaking voices, and in other hidden clues. It was hard. But they were all trying here. He thought about how to reply, using his sharp legs to turn himself before settling back down, looking at the different other. Prince might not be in the voice, but the way that the other moved and the look on his face communicated quite a lot. Apprehension, discomfort, small nuanced notes that the language was still working on adding, but that both kith and other felt even if they had a hard time sharing. A decision was made. The voice was shaped and formed into a blunt instrument, while he opened his mouth and applied a similarly clumsy use of the speaking words. Two sides of communication, just to say, with a flat tone of curiosity, ¡°I need a name.¡± Prince did the blinking thing that the others did when they had their own unexpected moments. He found it useful, even if blinking wasn¡¯t something he could do with his own perpetually open eyes. The other took a moment to themself, adding the long exhale that meant they were feeling regret or memory or exasperation or just that they needed to breathe. The others were so confusing without the voice. But they were trying. ¡±I¡¯ve never been good with names.¡± Prince said with clumsy-precise speaking. There was so much there, so much hidden feeling that couldn¡¯t be easily cracked out of the words. ¡°Neither was Ruby. Our¡­ I guess you¡¯d call it a sister¡­ named us. She was good with names.¡± ¡±Names important?¡± He asked, filling the local air with a hammer of curiosity and sympathy. He understood the cadence of the speaking. Prince¡¯s sister was dead. Or otherwise gone. That was common enough that the kith had come to learn the signs of it in the others. ¡±It¡¯s a nice reminder of her, I suppose.¡± Prince said, not noticing that his conversation partner was struggling to follow along. ¡°She liked to use names as aspirational ideas for people. Said mine would make me ¡®more noble¡¯, which was dumb enough that I¡¯ve lived my whole life proving her wrong.¡± The other laughed. He knew what laughing was! That meant amusement, happiness, glee! But¡­ not. Not right now. Somehow, it was different and hurting. He moved closer, wondering if it was the right thing to do, as Prince kept talking. ¡°Anyway, I think names are different for different people. She¡¯d probably be pissed if she knew her name ended up being ironic.¡± He didn¡¯t know what that meant. It sounded like something with a story behind it. Following speaking language was hard, but he felt like he was having a conversation, which was¡­ scary. Like falling. It felt like falling and hoping someone would catch you. ¡°I need a name.¡± He said with potent and direct determination. ¡°Needed. For the new ones.¡± ¡±The kids? Ah. Yeah, I hear you.¡± Prince lied. The other didn¡¯t hear him properly. But he was still trying. ¡°What do names mean to you?¡± He considered. Long enough that Prince started shifting like he was tired of sitting still. Long enough that a few new other people came by to ask questions of Prince, about things that he didn¡¯t follow along with. Long enough that he saw a group of his kith move by and add to the voice curiosity and concern and anticipation and anxiety about his state on his own. He mollified the last group with the sensation of pondering, and then continued doing exactly that. If he knew how time worked, he would be able to say that it was forty minutes later when he shifted to rise on his spear-like legs and tell Prince his answer. ¡°Nothing.¡± He said with confidence. ¡°Names mean nothing. Yet.¡± ¡°Mmh.¡± Prince made a noise that he recognized as a different kind of pondering. He was learning the small noises well. ¡°That I get. You need a name and you need to not overthink it.¡± The other somehow, in blunt words outside of the voice entirely, expressed the truth that he had been struggling with for days. ¡°Tell you what. I know a name that¡¯s not in use. Want it?¡± A name that he could just have. That was so much easier than struggling with the concept of names in the abstract. So much easier than having to make a choice, when choosing hadn¡¯t been part of existing for as long as he¡¯d been alive. ¡°Yes.¡± The in between language was supposed to use simple voice, but since Prince wasn¡¯t using that language, he let the word be buoyed with painful pleading desperation to make the confusion stop. ¡±Alright. My sister¡¯s name was Rise.¡± Prince said, standing up and dusting off the back of his legs with economical smacks of his strangely distinct hands. There was something wrong with how he pronounced the words as he turned to leave. ¡°And now it¡¯s yours. Take care of it for her, okay?¡± ¡°Okay.¡± He said. Rise said. That would take getting used to. But so would everything else in life. And now there was one step that had been completed. One new concept that had a starting point to build off of, which made everything so much easier. Rise - said with an undercurrent of bitter loving melancholy - flexed his legs and began to return to the soft space. He had a name. One that would require him to live up to who it came from. But one that was a gift, given from one of the others that every day continued to help the kith acclimate to no longer being in the cage. His name was Rise. And he did not yet understand just how important that was. _____ ¡°Oh hey, neat.¡± James said, looking down at his forearm and wondering if he¡¯d guessed correctly which shield bracer had just leveled up. He had a second, so he did a quick mental check on each of the ones he was wearing, looking for the culprit until he found the right one. It wasn¡¯t hard, the clean numbers were easy to understand once you knew the pattern from looking at it fifty times a day for the last year. [Battlefield Alteration, 3, 0/600, 3:39:40, 6, A-] There it was. After almost exactly two hundred and seventy five days of constant deliberate use, this Order-copied non-blood-magic certified clean shield bracer had tipped over to level three. And now, at long last, it could be set to automatically change what the shield blocked. And James left that option firmly set to no, because relying on that was how people fucking died to unexpected combined arms. ¡±James!¡± The shout caused him to jerk to attention, blinking away the line of blood running over his brand new eye. ¡°Right side! Right side!¡± ¡±On it!¡± James swung around to face his rifle out the window of the speeding vehicle, zeroing in on one of the tanker spiders hot on their tail. They could celebrate the new milestone as a community later. He had delving to do. _____ Marcus didn¡¯t have a lot of actual training training, when it came to the majority of the proper noun Weird Stuff the Order of Endless Rooms dealt with. Oh, he was good at his job, working as one of the people that manned the phones for Response. He sometimes hated his job, when he had to listen to people who were hurt or scared, but he also loved that Response was currently on the positive side of having more people than problems, so it was always within his power to send someone out immediately. And he was good at being part of the community. He¡¯d moved into the Lair as soon as that was an option, because it was just too cool not to. And also free rent, but mostly the coolness part. His neighbors were magical life forms, fantastically queer, or both, and that was exactly where he wanted to live. He was still trying to get more of his normal world friends to sign on, but¡­ well, his closest friend in the world was kind of an idiot, and the guy would rather live with terrible conditions that were familiar than take a chance on something new. It sucked. Marcus was exhausted with it. He preferred the common camraconda way of doing things, which was to be blunt but enthusiastic, and just go from there. He also was good at being someone who cared about the Order¡¯s activities. He didn¡¯t actually go on delves - he might, someday, but that was scary when you weren¡¯t used to the fighting - but he loved seeing recordings from in the dungeons, or reading lists of acquired magics, or trying out weird new potions. Marcus was part of a support group for nonhuman members, as the guy who was there to help them with determining how their unique situations created unique needs. He loved the weird. But he also didn¡¯t do the hyper-accelerated exercise potion training, or the Response courses for emergency situations, or any combat classes, or anything like that. He wasn¡¯t ready to be an adventurer. He needed anxiety meds just to answer the dispatch calls. Which wasn¡¯t bad, exactly, cause he had health insurance now and so he could get his medication without a problem. Even if he didn¡¯t, he was pretty sure he could tell Momo about it and she¡¯d go rob a pharmacy for him. But that would probably cause more anxiety than it would solve. Marcus didn¡¯t have Climb spells, because he¡¯d never been into the sub-zero deathtrap. He didn¡¯t use his stipend on orbs for martial arts or self defense, instead choosing to roll the dice on untested purples or getting more relationsticks or something. So far, the closest any potion trial had brought him to an offensive superpower was the one that made his skin secrete a thin goo that caused itching on anyone he touched. The most he¡¯d trained for something dangerous was¡­ well, probably the mandatory antimemetics training. Daniel was a nice guy, with a lot more history with the Order than Marcus really knew the details of. And he also shared his brain space with an informorph, who he was apparently dating too? Marcus thought that was weird when he¡¯d figured that out. He¡¯d thought it was weird the next time he¡¯d figured that out too. And the time after that. And the next time. And the next¡­ Marcus was the last person in his training group to start to actively realize, without prompting, that his memories were being tampered with. The infomorph, Pathfinder, was a navigator type, so the nature of the memory alteration was heavily rooted in not knowing where he was or why he¡¯d gone there, and a disrupting of his attempts to leave. After the initial barrage, they¡¯d moved on to repeated targeted types of mental attack, and the tactics for recognizing them and working around the disruption. And at that, Marcus was hot garbage. His attempts might have actually actively made things worse, in a real world situation. In training, Pathfinder seemed confused at just how vulnerable he was to her attacks, and how easy it was to confound him, and she used some of her rare words to actively ask him if he was maybe some kind of nonhuman himself. He wasn¡¯t, but it was sort of cool in it¡¯s own dumb way that he was almost an anti chosen one. Everyone on dispatch had Planner working with them at least a little bit, because it would be unacceptable to miss a call due to that kind of interference, and Marcus was cool letting Planner take a deeper root in his brain just to make sure. He wasn¡¯t dating Planner though. That wasn¡¯t his thing. Or Planner¡¯s either, which was convenient. Marcus¡¯ thoughts had drifted, apparently. He looked up from the empty fractal patterned teacup on the table. He did appear to be on a date. He blinked at the person across from him, who was staring with a curious frown on her face, eyes narrowed. While he wasn¡¯t a relationship person, Marcus could understand that she was probably cute. Dusty blonde hair cut back to almost nothing over a slim face and body that looked more sharp than small. Actually she looked like she¡¯d just walked off the set of a Terminator film, and once his brain made the connection he couldn¡¯t shake the vibe, especially since she had some kind of circuit tattoo splashed out behind her left ear. And she was dressed like she was a slightly more armored Steve Irwin; tan clothing with a lot of pockets but also clear spots where armor plate or padding was incorporated. Though when Marcus looked down at himself, he realized he couldn¡¯t quite tell what he was wearing, except that he was wearing some kind of heavy protective gear with Response¡¯s blue orb sigil on it. His shield was leaning up against the chair he was sitting in. Blinking didn¡¯t work, but he tried anyway as he looked around. They were outside somewhere. It felt like it was a city, and their table could have been on some sort of patio or sidewalk cafe. But whatever they¡¯d been drinking and eating was long gone, only crumbs left on the shared plate in the middle of the table. It felt like there should be tall buildings, but instead there was nothing past the doorway and plate glass window behind them. Not just nothing, but nothing. A dark emptiness instead of a sky, and the street stopped twenty feet away, falling into¡­ well it didn¡¯t really fall, it was just gone. They were having tea in a circular space fifty feet across, hanging in a void. ¡°Ah.¡± Marcus said. ¡°I¡¯m dreaming.¡± That was weird too, because you weren¡¯t supposed to be able to say that when you were dreaming. ¡±Well kind of.¡± The girl replied with a focused frown. ¡°Also hi. Again.¡± ¡±Hi.¡± Marcus cleared his throat, finding it almost possible. ¡°Where am I? Also who are you. Also¡­ no, that¡¯s as far as I can think right now. Sorry? Sorry.¡± She was answering him before he¡¯d finished talking, and definitely talking louder to flatten his attempt at an apology. ¡°You¡¯re in my Territory, you¡¯re dreaming, I don¡¯t know how you fucking keep getting here, you can call me Joy, and¡­ you had fewer questions this time.¡± She sighed. Marcus nodded. ¡°Yeah, I think I remember some of the other stuff.¡± He said slowly, a trickle of recognition coming back to him as he looked across the street to where there was a single tree that looked like it was made of gleaming silver metal, and then nothing past it. ¡°¡­Were we having coffee?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± She exclaimed, clearly exasperated. ¡°Finally. Now can you tell me why you are here?!¡± ¡±Nnnnnno. No I can¡¯t.¡± Marcus slumped his shoulders, which felt halfway between real and not. ¡°Sorry?¡± ¡±I am going to go insane.¡± Joy stated with a happy laugh alongside the words. ¡°This is so stupid. That stupid fucking tree did this, I think it¡¯s trying to kill me, and I¡¯m gonna scream. Cause I don¡¯t want it to do that!¡± Something about her words made Marcus feel like he should be remembering something else. Something from outside the dream, from a while back in his actual daily life and thoughts unmuddled by the fog of being mostly subconscious. ¡°¡­You sound familiar.¡± He said slowly. ¡°Have we met?¡± ¡±I! Don¡¯t! Know!¡± Joy punctuated each word with an assault on the table with the blade of her hand. ¡°Are you a wizard?! Some kind of government experiment gone wrong?! A ghost?! Give me something to work with here!¡± Marcus felt compelled to answer. Not magically, just because he didn¡¯t like disappointing people. ¡°I answer dispatch calls and do emergency response work?¡± He said. ¡°Also I¡¯m still at the suicide prevention line, so if you ever called that¡­¡± ¡±¡­you¡¯re the guy.¡± His unexpected coffee date¡¯s voice went flat, her eyes widening as she sat upright. ¡°When I got shot. You answered.¡± She reached out and grabbed at Marcus¡¯ hand, but he was operating partly on dream logic, and the gesture didn¡¯t connect. ¡°You¡¯re real?!¡± ¡±Did you think I was a hallucination?¡± He asked. ¡°Wait, no, I remember. You were¡­ you were being chased. You asked me if¡­ you asked¡­ if I¡­ wanted to get coffee¡­¡± Marcus looked down at the fractal patterned cup again. ¡°Am I on a date? Why am I on a date?¡± Joy took a deep breath that Marcus couldn¡¯t copy, which meant that she was actually here, but he was dreaming. So was this place real or not? ¡°Wow Marcus! What a great question!¡± Her voice crawled with false enthusiasm. ¡°Why are we on a coffee date inside my personal fortified wizard bunker? Why don¡¯t you fucking tell me how you got here?!¡± She seemed annoyed. And Marcus knew he was dreaming, because the acidic bite of anxiety and the fear of fucking up a social situation wasn¡¯t present. He would probably still apologize for intruding later, but he actually took the time to consider her question for real. Their only connection was that they¡¯d spoken. But one thing Marcus knew from reading the infomorph entries in the Order¡¯s playbook was that connections like that were kind of like doorways. And this one had clearly been opened. If this was a real place, a physical place, then something must have changed to let him be here as a dream. Probably the tree, since Joy seemed to think it was its fault. But surely she would have someone aside from him showing up if that was the case. He¡¯d heard her for under a minute, months ago. Joy didn¡¯t strike him as the sort of person who would avoid asking people out on dates for that long. Which meant there was a factor on his end. If their connection was a door, and the tree had unlocked it, something had opened it and shoved him through. And the likely culprit was either an infomorph, or some rogue spell effect at the Lair. Probably an infomorph. Probably one that would interpret this as a situation to do something about. A single brief comment in a fragmented conversation, that had invited Marcus out on a date. The kind of thing you very lightly penciled in on your calendar, and expected the exact time to shift around a lot for. But still, it was something that you might prepare for. And suddenly, his lucid dreaming mind felt a rush of satisfaction as he assembled a hypothesis, even through the fog of the dream and his own wretched ability with antimemetics. Because there was someone in the Order who definitely would fuck around with someone in this way, and who was, compulsively, a¡­ ¡±¡­Planner.¡± Marcus said out loud, a tight annoyance building in him. Joy glowered. ¡±What the hell is a-¡° she started, before freezing in a moment of shocked terror. ¡±Yes Marcus?¡± Planner interrupted her, voice like a scratching quill, the ethereal green and blue glow of their patterned tentacles forming behind Marcus and stretching around and out from him as Planner easily manifested through the dream state the young man was in. While Joy threw herself backward, chair scattering across the cobblestone and hands coming up like she planned to kick the shit out of Planner personally, Marcus turned and glared at the nearest eyeball he could find. Or at least, glared as much as he could like this. ¡°You can¡¯t enforce schedules for things that weren¡¯t even planned.¡± ¡±You had a date Marcus.¡± Planner insisted. ¡°It is important not to miss your obligations.¡± ¡±You broke into someone¡¯s pocket dimension!¡± He actually managed something close to a yell. ¡°That¡¯s not okay!¡± ¡±Hey, yeah, I agree with him on this one!¡± Joy chimed in. ¡°Also haha what the fuck!¡± Marcus couldn¡¯t sigh, and even changing his perspective was a struggle, but he brought himself back to face Joy. ¡°Sorry. That¡¯s Planner. They decided a date was scheduled or something.¡± ¡±It was scheduled, you simply did so badly. I am removing chaos.¡± Planner stated with too much confidence. ¡°What the fuck is a planner?!¡± ¡±Them.¡± Marcus said as an explanation, wondering if the facade of the building they were sitting in front of actually had a building behind it, or if it was just the front wall and the empty window. Where had the coffee come from? Did it get dreamed into existence? ¡°Oh. Planner¡¯s not gonna hurt anyone. Sorry again.¡± Planner scoffed like a page ripping. ¡°I am a pacifist.¡± They declared haughtily. ¡±You¡¯re in my house!¡± Joy remained indignant ¡±Is this a house?¡± Marcus asked, managing a little inflection. ¡°Actually I guess it¡¯s not important. We can leave. Sorry about bothering you.¡± He managed to move to standing, and was in the process of trying to figure out if there was a door or something, or if he needed to wake up to leave. Normally by now, he¡¯d be wide awake, the dream a fading set of fragments in his memory. But maybe this one would stick a little better. Especially if Planner helped him out with it. Marcus was getting that hands-on practice that apparently helped with this kind of thing a lot more than just rote training. Joy interrupted his attempt to exit. ¡°Wait, hang on!¡± She slid in front of him, hand held out, armor sliding out of place in a way that meant it wasn¡¯t properly secured. ¡°That¡¯s it? You¡¯re not even curious who I am?¡± ¡±I¡¯m dreaming.¡± Marcus said. ¡°Curiosity doesn¡¯t work. You can call back if you want, we¡¯re still around.¡± He looked back at Planner¡¯s manifestation. ¡°Can you pull me out please? I appreciate that you were trying to help but I need to wake up.¡± ¡±Yes, of course.¡± Planner said with an organized twist of several of their inner tentacles. ¡°Should I remove future dates from the calendar?¡± Marcus stared. ¡°Yeah Planner. Thanks.¡± He said eventually. ¡±Well hang on, you were still the least bad date I¡¯ve had in months.¡± Joy said. ¡°And I was right, you are cute, so¡­ I mean¡­ if you aren¡¯t trying to invade my home base or anything, and the tentacle monster is cool, then¡­¡± ¡±Oh, thanks.¡± Marcus said again, the dull sensation of deep sleep closing in around him again. ¡°I don¡¯t really date though. Thanks for the dream coffee though.¡± ¡±¡­wait that coffee wasn¡¯t¡­¡± Marcus woke up before he could hear the end of the fading words. Or maybe he woke up hours later, the dream a distant memory that he didn¡¯t quite have access to. He felt pretty good though; like he¡¯d had a really refreshing night¡¯s rest, but also like he was energized in that way he could never replicate on purpose no matter how he managed his diet or whatever. That feeling lasted right up until he saw Planner again, and the memories snapped back into focus. Fifteen minutes later, Response got a call from a really annoyed delver. _____ [+2 Species Ranks : Neuroptera - Antlion] ¡±What the hell¡­¡± James and Zhu moved in increasingly expert unison. Even as tired as Zhu was a lot of the time, they were getting better and better at working together, and in the aftermath of the fight, both of them flicked their limbs in different directions to send ink splattering to the hardwood floor. ¡±What¡¯s up?¡± Zhu asked. ¡°Is it as weird as getting a rank in dragons?¡± ¡±I¡­ okay, no. Dragons?¡± ¡±Well, komodo dragons. What¡¯re those?¡± ¡±Oh. Real. Also very cool. There¡¯s one at the local zoo, we should go sometime.¡± James had let his hopes soar for a second. ¡°No I got one in antlions.¡± Zhu¡¯s talons carefully but quickly ran down James¡¯ cheek, scraping away enough black ichor to make a splat when he flicked it onto the wreck of the interdictionary. ¡°What, like the chanters? That¡¯s weird.¡± ¡±Right? But it looks like a mundane species.¡± ¡±Wait.¡± Alanna held up her uninjured hand. ¡°Hold up. James, when you say antlion, what do you mean?¡± James cocked an eyebrow, reveling in the ease of the motion even after so long of his face being free of heavier bandages. ¡°The things from Half-Life 2? Isn¡¯t that why someone said the term for the chanters at first? They¡¯ve got the same legs, and a bit of the same shell structure, right? I mean, everything else is different, but¡­¡± ¡±Buddy I fucking love you enough to put up with this,¡± Alanna craned her neck to the side to wring out the ink from her hair in a liquid example, ¡°but antlions are real bugs.¡± ¡±No kidding!¡± James raised both eyebrows for that one. ¡°Well cool! I¡¯m gonna learn a bunch of neat bug facts when we get home I bet.¡± ¡±And you¡¯ll learn it sixty percent faster.¡± Zhu added happily. ¡°Now get back to walking! I want to see if this map computer works on the water pipes!¡± _____ And like all good routines, it lasted just long enough to get comfortable, before something messed it all up. Chapter 312 ¡°The trick to being prolific is to lower your standards.¡± -Catboy Slim- _____ James sat with Sarah at a sushi place near the Lair, the two of them trying with varying degrees of success to will themselves dry as they eyed the tiny plates sliding by on the belt in front of them. He¡¯d had some time around when normal humans had lunch, and James had figured he¡¯d poke Sarah and see if she¡¯d be interested. And she was! And they¡¯d had an excellent little walk out of the dilapidated zone of urban decay around the Lair and into the more lively gooey core of businesses that had sprung up a half mile away. The fact that it had started raining halfway through their walk wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault. But it was a hell of a way to start his October. ¡°Ooooh, poke!¡± Sarah grabbed a small bowl and twirled her personal pair of chopsticks. ¡°There¡¯s another one if you want it!¡± ¡±I have a hard time with most raw fish actually.¡± James said as he applied a weapons-grade quantity of imitation wasabi to a California roll. His friend scrunched up her face at him, opening her mouth wider than needed to chomp down on the cube of tuna into her mouth as she gave him a silent challenging glare. ¡°The texture gets to me!¡± James defended himself. Sarah smiled around her bite as she leaned her shoulder into his from her adjacent stool. ¡°I knooooow. I was actually just curious if you¡¯d changed at all. We¡¯ve done this before, but it was a long time ago, and¡­ you changed a lot.¡± Not in a bad way either. New-James was almost a different person, but everything that made James a good person was still there. Just polished, carved, and more radiant. ¡±I am willing to wager that you did too.¡± James pointed out. He refused to be morose today about what they¡¯d lost; the weather was gloomy enough, he didn¡¯t need to add to it. ¡°Actually, you can get away with lying to me about basically anything, now that I think about it. Hang on, has that ever happened?¡± His friend¡¯s grin took on a mischievous hint. ¡°I may have overrepresented just how many lunches you owed me.¡± She said, puffing out her cheeks. James puffed out a laugh through his nose as he chewed, which did a great job of letting the wasabi claw its way up his sinuses. ¡°I¡¯d buy you lunch every day for the rest of our lives.¡± He told her plainly. ¡±Yeah that¡¯s why it¡¯s funny.¡± Sarah said as she snagged something that looked like a small green tentacle monster had shed its outer shell, but that the menu informed James was actually seaweed salad. ¡°So what¡¯s up with you? I mean what¡¯s really up?¡± ¡±What, I can¡¯t just want to go on a walk and talk about memes and dumb world news and stuff?¡± James asked innocently. ¡±Well¡­¡± Sarah almost bought his act. ¡°You can¡¯t, no! Not anymore! I think it¡¯s ¡®cause you find the magic too interesting to not talk about.¡± James flicked his eyes to the side where a couple quiet young people in black shirts with the restaurant¡¯s logo on them were on their phones behind the cash register. Ostensibly there to help guests, he was normally pretty comfortable talking about magic with random people around, but right now he was planning to segue into something a bit more serious. ¡°I do love it.¡± He agreed with a small nod as he watched some kind of maki with some kind of obviously spicy sauce on it roll by with a curious gaze. ¡°Though in my defense, you clearly do too.¡± ¡±I do! But¡­ what are you pointing at?¡± Sarah glanced over her own shoulder at where James was blindly aiming his index finger. She didn¡¯t see anything, so her head turned into a rapid scanner as she panned across the restaurant from her seat, one hand struggling to grab the plate she¡¯d been aiming for as her chopsticks rested in her other. ¡°Is it something serious?¡± Her voice was tense enough that James quickly regretted being too cryptic. ¡°No, no! Sorry! I was pointing at your chopsticks.¡± Hers were fancy, especially in contrast to the rough disposable wood ones that James had failed to break apart properly. ¡±What about them?¡± Sarah brought her hand around, fingers twisting to actually grab the utensils. ¡±That!¡± James laughed openly. ¡°You¡¯re doing tricks with what I am assuming are magnetic chopsticks, that you must have bought for this specific purpose!¡± Sarah flushed red, but she also let the chopsticks slide down until the tips tapped into one of her empty plates, her fingers hovering two inches over the ends of the metal rods, the control over magnetism that she had keeping the chopsticks in place like they were balancing standing up. ¡°Noooooo.¡± Her voice dipped up and down as she defended herself. ¡°I just had these! But I am doing that. I actually¡­¡± She paused, then took a deep breath and nodded mostly to herself. ¡°We got chopsticks at the same time, actually.¡± Sarah said as she turned to look at James. ¡°You, me, Alanna, Anesh. JP and Dave abstained for goofball reasons, and Mia already had some, but we were all out at a birthday dinner, and the four of us bought a set of really good chopsticks that we split up. You probably still have yours.¡± The memory was painful, but only because it wasn¡¯t shared. What had been hurting Sarah, what had been tearing her apart bit by bit every time some stray memory hit her thoughts, wasn¡¯t what had happened. It was what had been lost. The connection was gone, the sensation of growing together was gone, and in its place was isolation. She¡¯d told Lua about it during therapy recently. Opening up about something she¡¯d been trying to hide even from herself. And the advice that she¡¯d gotten, the obvious advice, was that if the problem was that the memories weren¡¯t shared, she should share them. James didn¡¯t exactly know what she was doing, but it didn¡¯t even matter. Because the reason Sarah was friends with James in the first place was that his instincts for his friends were to be kind, to be engaged, and to play off whatever it was they were talking about. And that meant that she could tell him this, and he would effortlessly reach out, grab that old isolated echo, and make it alive and part of their connection again. ¡±Probably! I have never once cleaned out the kitchen drawers since we got you back, and we still live in the same place. My main concern is that you¡¯d somehow steal my sushi if I had Sarah-controllable chopsticks.¡± Sarah stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, and flicked her fingers forward, shooting her chopsticks at James¡¯ plate and the last piece of sushi roll there. Her plan was to twist the magnetic field like so, grab it, and then pull her chopsticks back. But while Sarah could do an excellent impression of a railgun, her fine control on the return was maybe a little lacking; and besides that, chopsticks kind of required a delicate touch that she hadn¡¯t mastered. So she mostly just spiked James¡¯ sushi, and then yoinked it back to impact her sweatshirt. ¡±My plan has failed.¡± Sarah said, face a carefully falsified stoic mask as she caught the sushi roll and gingerly set it on one of the empty plates with her thumb and forefinger. ¡±You loon.¡± James wasn¡¯t even mad, he just replaced his ¡®stolen¡¯ food with another of the endless parade of options. ¡°Maybe I can get nice wooden chopsticks and you can have my other pair as a backup.¡± He tapped the counter. ¡°And also I promise not to warn Alanna about your planned heist.¡± ¡±Ooh, I like this plan.¡± Sarah felt a wash of relief, her friend¡¯s easy way of making everything a joke doing exactly what he wanted it to; turning the hard parts of life into something to cherish. ¡°Anyway. If you¡¯re done spilling eel sauce on yourself-¡° ¡±Hey! You were-¡° ¡±-then why not let me in on what you¡¯re really thinking?¡± Sarah knew James better than James probably knew himself. She knew when he had something to say, and she wanted him to get to it while they were sitting here listening to the rain beat on the windows and not when they had to run back to the Lair. James went quiet, chopsticks deftly dipping a morsel of rice and crab into sauce before he shoved the whole thing in his mouth like he¡¯d been starving. Sarah gave him space to think, not so much watching him as she was just aware of his presence at her elbow, aware that he was staring at the far wall and giving his brain time to find a starting point. ¡±I had a thought today.¡± He said slowly. Saran nodded eagerly. ¡°This is my favorite way your things start.¡± She admitted as she sorted their empty plates by color into a stack. ¡°This is how you say things when you know they¡¯re a big deal.¡± Her friend¡¯s mouth pulled up in a half smile. ¡±Correct.¡± James said. ¡°Also I¡¯m lying. It was more like a series of thoughts. Come with me on this journey.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Remember fighting Blitzkrieg?¡± ¡°¡­yes.¡± Sarah didn¡¯t really like that memory. Some people might be proud of their combat ability or the damage they could inflict on a living person. Or at least, like her girlfriend was, proud of using their strength to protect others. But Sarah just remembered that day as a series of violent encounters, blood and splinters and squeals as she¡¯d cut through ratroaches on the way into the dungeon, culminating in blowing a woman in half with her magnetized wooden spikes. Not that it had done anything. Blitzkrieg had still nearly killed her after being hit. She had killed Virgil and Cold-Wind-Friction, and it was likely the only reason she hadn¡¯t taken out everyone else was that she was distracted or bored. ¡±Well.¡± James cut off the spiral. ¡°We¡¯ve got a few other pillars for comparison now. You know what was weird about Blitz?¡± He ignored the incredulous look Sarah gave him, his friend cocking her head back as she used his own tactic back at him and turned this into a joke. ¡°Yeah yeah, I know. Shaddup.¡± James laughed. ¡°Anyway. She was¡­ limited. Really limited, right?¡± Sarah thought about the pillar. Thought about the sensation of someone pointing a loaded gun at her head that had been the primary feeling throughout the whole encounter. ¡°Pointing. Not firing.¡± She said out loud, voice quiet so the employee looking their way didn¡¯t overhear. ¡±What?¡± ¡±She was threatening. But she wasn¡¯t just killing us.¡± Sarah said in her hushed tone. James grimaced, but nodded. ¡°Yeah, pretty much. And she was using the kid¡­ using Graham¡­ to mess with the dungeon. Because I assume she couldn¡¯t.¡± He shook his head and moved away from that specific name. ¡°The dungeon thing matters I think. Because we have other examples; Lloyd couldn¡¯t enter Townton, the Right Person had to come visit me in a dream at the same time, and now we¡¯ve got Kiki telling us that dungeons feel like they¡¯re hostile to her.¡± ¡±It does seem like they¡¯ve got a secret weakness, yeah.¡± Sarah agreed. ¡°But that¡¯s not what you¡¯re thinking.¡± ¡±I mean, it¡¯s part of what I¡¯m thinking!¡± James gave a laugh that was less lighthearted than he wanted. He considered taking more sushi, but the conversation was ruining his appetite. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the rest. The Sewer started turning the high school it lives under into a dungeon. The Horizon was spawning life across most of Townton. And we know, or at least are pretty fucking sure, that the Underburbs are physically expanding in Missouri.¡± ¡±Which is freaky and bad and other mean words.¡± Sarah clicked her chopsticks on the counter. ¡°Should we be¡­ I don¡¯t know, stealing Missouri in advance? So we can cut off whatever is happening?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± James said. ¡°But Karen says we don¡¯t have the budget to teleport a whole state. I know, I¡¯m disappointed too.¡± They shared a sigh at the nature of financial constraints. ¡°Point is, dungeons can expand. And dungeons can contract too, when we¡­ I mean, when we reclaim the space they¡¯ve occupied, right?¡± ¡±Right. We never really talked about¡­ about Townton. About why the dungeon did what it did.¡± Sarah glanced at James. ¡°Or about how it got that far out of its fancy road gate.¡± She added. James¡¯ smile twitched. ¡°Mh hm.¡± He knew she probably saw where he was going with this. ¡°I¡­ I want to ask you a favor.¡± He said. ¡°A big one. Because it¡¯s not really a favor, it¡¯s more like I want you to do a dangerous job and I¡¯m asking as a paladin and not as your friend.¡± He focused his stare forward, watching the hypnotic dance of tiny plates of sushi as he spoke. ¡°So feel free to tell me to fuck off.¡± ¡±I¡¯ll do it using nicer words, but okay.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°Go for it.¡± ¡±I want you to stop casually brainstorming, and start actually trying different things to get Clutter Ascent to expand to our apartment¡¯s new security-deposit-destroying attic.¡± James told her. ¡°I want¡­ I want to know what exactly makes a dungeon form new entrances, breach its boundary, and claim territory. And I want you to find a way to do it on command. Ideally, I also want Clutter to consent to it as a person, but we don¡¯t even know if dungeons are people, even if we¡¯re definitely anthropomorphizing it. Her. Them?¡± ¡±I¡¯ve been going with her, but I¡¯m probably biased.¡± Sarah rolled the smooth cup of still hot green tea that she¡¯d gotten in her hands, considering what James was asking. ¡°So you think the dungeons are dangerous for pillars. Dangerous dangerous. I mean, that would explain why they always seem to be trying to kill them!¡± She gave a nervous laugh. ¡°And¡­ and you want to see if a dungeon can kill them back.¡± James really didn¡¯t. But he would, if it was what it took to stop something like Blitzkrieg. ¡°If nothing else, I want to have a backup plan for Kiki.¡± He said. ¡°I want to introduce her to the Attic anyway, if you think Clutter could handle trying that. If you don¡¯t want to expand Clutter yet, if you think we should wait, then I¡¯ll back you up on that. Sarah I trust you way more than myself, okay? I¡¯m looking for a contingency plan that might not even work. This doesn¡¯t have to be-¡° ¡±Nah, I got this.¡± Sarah said with sudden confidence. ¡°You get¡­ the way your brain works¡­ hey can I be mean for a second? I promise I don¡¯t hate you.¡± ¡°What a suspiciously specific thing to clarify.¡± James said deadpan. ¡°Go ahead.¡± He had a joke about Sarah already being mean by stealing his sushi lined up, but he was too nervous about what he¡¯d asked of her, and more nervous about her response. Sarah leaned over sideways, whispering conspiratorially. ¡°You,¡± she told him, ¡°are way too hard on yourself.¡± Sarah said before leaning back. ¡±Oh no.¡± James couldn¡¯t help himself from joking a little bit; Sarah just drew that out of him. ¡°I could hear the part where you almost swore at me. That means it¡¯s bad!¡± ¡±It is bad you dummy!¡± Sarah¡¯s voice had a bite to it that wasn¡¯t common for her, and actually did pull James up short. ¡°You think you have to do everything! You¡¯re so convinced that half the people in your life will fall apart if you¡¯re not helping them or keeping them safe that you burn yourself out overworking! But that¡¯s not the worst part!¡± ¡±Really? Cause when you lay it out like that it sounds bad.¡± James grimaced. The chastisement continued undelayed. ¡±The worst part is that it makes you baby everyone.¡± Sarah¡¯s eyes tracked James¡¯ hand as he took a small plate, and as soon as he set it down, she snapped away one of the gyoza he was planning to stress eat, biting it in half almost as a threat as she spoke. ¡°You¡¯re so worried about hurting people. About hurting me. And I understand, because of course I understand you goober. But you get so caught up in it that you¡¯re panicking about the ethics of things that aren¡¯t bad!¡± James frowned as he fended off her attempt to steal the other piece of fried food, shoving it into his mouth in self defense and chewing rapidly before speaking. ¡°But I am asking something bad of you. I¡¯m asking you to weaponize a person.¡± ¡±You¡¯re asking me to prepare a way to protect.¡± Sarah said with a quiet voice that belied the simple drama of her statement. ¡°We both know that, if someone¡¯s prediction is accurate, we don¡¯t have an especially long time before the world starts to get bad, and-¡° ¡±Within one year eight months, going off Nick¡¯s comment. Sorry, continue.¡± James never stopped keeping an eye on their doomsday clock. ¡°-and you think Clutter would survive?¡± Sarah asked sadly. ¡°You think I would? He didn¡¯t say ¡®things get bad¡¯, and you know it. I¡¯ve never talked to the Right Person, maybe he¡¯s a bully, maybe he¡¯s just the worst. But you don¡¯t think he lied.¡± ¡±I don¡¯t.¡± ¡±Is self defense wrong?¡± Sarah asked suddenly. James blinked. ¡°No. Obviously not.¡± ¡±The first and last pillar I met killed two of my friends.¡± Sarah said, shifting aside as one of the servers came by to refill their water cups and not realizing or caring that she was sharing deeply concerning words as they passed. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m scared to go meet Kiki. I know you say she¡¯s nice, but I don¡¯t know if I can. And we already wanted to see if we could expand Clutter, right? You¡¯re not even asking anything except for ¡®hey Sarah, can you maybe tell me if you can do the thing quickly?¡¯ and that¡¯s just science!¡± She pointed a finger at him before tapping him on the nose. ¡°Wizard science!¡± ¡±Not witch science?¡± ¡±No we know which science, I just told you, it¡¯s wizard science.¡± Sarah paused with a bright grin across her face, waiting for James to register the pun before she shook her head. ¡°Also Momo¡¯s our witch, and I don¡¯t want to step on any toes!¡± James sighed at the antics, shaking his head but still feeling a little lighter. Still. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a good precedent to set that we develop dungeon weapons in case of future fights that might not happen.¡± He said. ¡±Are you arguing against your own request? Who taught you how to debate?!¡± Sarah¡¯s smile froze briefly. ¡°Nevermind, it was me. Now even I¡¯m forgetting. Do you want my help or not?¡± She challenged her best friend in the world who was also a huge idiot sometimes. And James kinda sorta knew exactly what she was feeling. Deep in the subconscious part of him that had never really forgotten this human, was the echo of her unspoken words. That he was being dumb, second guessing himself for no reason, and that Sarah had seen this all before and would like it if he could maybe just be a little more confident in himself. Not the external confidence that he projected when he needed to be a paladin, but the real, almost tangible confidence of a person who trusted themself to do the right thing. ¡±Yeah.¡± James said. ¡°I do. I have a bad feeling and I think it might save lives. But I don¡¯t want to put you or Clutter at-¡° ¡±Great! Now, do you want sesame balls?¡± ¡±¡­I also want that, yes.¡± ¡±Yeah, I know you do.¡± Sarah set the bean paste dessert in front of him. ¡°Also it¡¯s going to stop raining in a minute, so if we eat these fast enough, we can pay and sprint back without getting soggy again!¡± ¡±How do you know that? Is there some kind of new atmospheric pressure sense purple orb? Or a barometer totem? Or¡­ no, you¡¯re giving me the look. I feel like this look has been used on me a lot in my life. It¡¯s ¡®phone¡¯, isn¡¯t it? You looked at the weather app.¡± Sarah beamed at her friend. ¡°I did! But also the purple orb. We can get you one if you want, but I won¡¯t help you if I¡¯m soggy, so let¡¯s finish up and stop talking about things that make the nice people here nervous!¡± Unlike James, she still felt self conscious about talking about the end of the world in public. Orb or app, Sarah¡¯s timing was good enough that they made it back with about fifteen seconds to spare before the sky opened up and the rain came pouring back down. And by then, they¡¯d started talking about a play Sarah wanted to see on the walk home, and James had forgotten both to pick up a copy of that orb, and also that he was terrified of turning into a monster that made weapons out of living people. Which was, to Sarah¡¯s credit, her exact plan. They intended to split up when they got back, because both of them had stuff to do. Sarah to avatar practice, and James to a meeting about potions, both of them hoping that no one needed them outside until the rain stopped coming down, because as heavy as the rain was, the increasing wind made it seem even more dense and stormy outside as he hung his coat in the spatially compressed locker by the door. And James was secretly terrified that Nate was going to have him doing shooting drills in that. But Nate wasn¡¯t here right now. So he said his goodbyes with Sarah, and they headed deeper into the Lair. Going the same direction, the grin on Sarah¡¯s face growing with every step as she shadowed James¡¯ movements perfectly. ¡±Are we going to actually the same place?¡± He asked rhetorically, trying not to laugh as Sarah started to break out in giggles. They weren¡¯t, and their actual goodbye was one stairwell later. James kept moving, choosing to not use the elevator today as he descended into the basements. He gave people polite nods or friendly words of encouragement as he passed, giving a warm smile to a pair of new ratroaches who were heading to a doctor¡¯s appointment, checking in on Rufus and Fredrick¡¯s garden as he passed by the area, small little gestures of friendship. James knew that not everyone was always gonna be a nice person, but if he was, and he was all over the Lair all the time, then he could maybe try to ooze out an amount of good vibes. The alchemy department had a little open room where a bunch of the basement halls met up, and that was where James eventually ended up. Away from the main group of Researchers, and also conveniently away from whatever was making The Sound. The Sound was what James had decided to call the alarm-like buzzing that was happening over in the computer science section of their basement workspace. He was¡­ not actually sure if it was fine or not, but everyone he¡¯d checked with had told him not to worry, so he was fine waiting until after his talk to go check it out. The talk was, to everyone¡¯s satisfaction, direct and to the point. ¡°We¡¯re on track with the steady upscaling of exercise potion,¡± James said as he sat at one of the basement tables with Red and Davis, ¡°but I¡¯d like to get more lung purifier out there while we have the opportunity. Have we figured out how to use Harvest Echo to get more sap from the pots?¡± ¡±What we have ¡®figured out¡¯,¡± Amelia said with dry distaste, ¡°is that the succulents that grow from planted sap are particularly vulnerable to cold temperatures.¡± ¡±¡­that¡¯s a no then.¡± James frowned, rubbing at his chin. ¡°Okay. Did it mess with the production too? The cold, I mean.¡± Davis shook his head with the quick jerk that he used, which James would never admit out loud always made him wonder if the grey haired human was about to break his own neck. ¡°Process Procession actually works fine because the sap itself doesn¡¯t care, we just can¡¯t kill the plants. It took a while to figure out how to make use of it, but it does work. The problem is just that it costs eight Breath, so it¡¯s not really something we can industrialize.¡± ¡±No sweatshop assembly lines down here. Unfortunately.¡± Red said, the woman shaking her head like she¡¯d been hoping. James ignored that, and also ignored his own joke about how of course there were no sweatshops if everyone was freezing. ¡°Okay, I¡¯d like to set up to expand to keep up with internal demand. I know we¡¯ll never meet external¡­¡± ¡±We might.¡± Davis commented. ¡°I hear the Motoric might have copying spells?¡± ¡±Theory and guesses.¡± Amelia snorted in a somehow dignified way. James clicked his tongue. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s right. We think they can duplicate spellbooks, maybe books in general, or maybe there¡¯s just repeat drops. But no new bigger copy ritual, sorry.¡± He shrugged, emitting big ¡®whatcha gonna do about it¡¯ energy. ¡°We¡¯re still adding more pots though.¡± ¡±I want to say we should be making even more.¡± Davis said, making a professional request as he tipped his hand up on the table. ¡°I know I was outvoted, and I know we¡¯re a little biased here, but the potions are one of our most repeatable, distributable, and improveable sections. And our limit right now is still sap production.¡± It was a fair point, and James kind of agreed, but Davis was right. They had been outvoted. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye out for other options, how about that?¡± James asked. ¡±You could keep an eye out for foolishness.¡± Red ¡®suggested¡¯. ¡°If you put a stop to idiot Researchers trying to grow shaper substance, perhaps we could lose fewer pots to ¡®testing¡¯?¡± It wasn¡¯t really a question, her acerbic words practically slicing the air apart as she spoke. Unaware of what had actually happened, James tried to look it up as fast as possible, and found one of those impossible to ignore warnings in the relevant file. Apparently shaper substance would start mutating the succulent as soon as it began growing inside it, and within ten minutes of that happening, either the plant melted into a puddle of inert sludge, or it grew so fast it ripped the pot apart and then died because it wasn¡¯t sustained by the magic anymore. James was almost annoyed they¡¯d tested something so dangerous, but the list of precautions that had been taken was longer than he¡¯d ever seen, so he decided to trust them for now. He also decided to change the topic to something safer. ¡°So. Have you two seen the new aerosolizer masks?¡± He asked ¡±I have. They look absurd.¡± Red commented as she took the out with a roll of her eyes and a tap of the toe of her shoe on the hardwood floor that was present in this part of the basement for some reason. ¡°I do not understand why our engineering team designed them to look that way, but I am certain they are inefficient.¡± James laughed. ¡±Oh, that¡¯s easy. They didn¡¯t.¡± He got a single raised eyebrow between the two of them by way of response. ¡°We¡¯ve got some smart people here, and I know there¡¯s more than a handful of skill orbs in rotation for making someone sartorially inclined, but no one here actually has the experience or magic to make form fitting potion dispensing face masks.¡± Not yet anyway. ¡°So I outsourced it.¡± ¡±¡­to whom?¡± Red asked him curiously. Now raising his own eyebrows, Davis crossed his arms and picked at the sleeves of his jacket. ¡°I¡¯m having a hard time imagining someone having the right mix of skills for that. Unless¡­ did you just send a design to a factory? Is that an option?¡± ¡±It might have been! But no, I just got a cosplay creator to do it. Paid them a lot, but it¡¯s fair because they do great work, even if it¡¯s a bit slow. We¡¯ve got about eight of them for specific people, and I wanted to check on what potions work best with them and can be dosed that way for short bursts of use.¡± ¡±Hardening, incorporeality, sprinting, and paralytic secretion.¡± Red answered instantly. ¡°In order from most to least useful.¡± ¡±What was that last one?¡± James kept up on the potion project more than anything else, and he hadn¡¯t heard of that development. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Davis sighed. ¡°It¡¯s new. Makes skin secrete a paralytic toxin that causes paralysis in most things with a nervous system. And it makes you immune to it, too, right up until the exact moment that it stops, and then¡­¡± ¡±And then you¡¯re covered in deadly neurotoxin. Right.¡± James held up a hand before he¡¯d even finished talking. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m referencing a thing, I know it¡¯s not that. Anyway, would you guys mind having someone in your department set up the first three and only the first three in the masks?¡± ¡±I¡¯ll put Bea on it. The girl needs something to do.¡± Red almost sighed but clearly stopped herself. ¡°Well, no, she doesn¡¯t. We¡¯re short handed down here right now. Half my foolish assistants are missing for some reason.¡± ¡±It¡¯s not ¡®some reason¡¯.¡± Davis said with the kind of voice a man who had been having the same argument for several weeks used. ¡°It¡¯s the pillar. Who I still want to meet, mind you.¡± ¡±Yeah, sorry, you¡¯re on the list of people she specifically asked not to meet.¡± James said. And then as Davis started complaining, he voiced the preplanned interception Kiki had given him. ¡°Because she¡¯s afraid - correctly as far as we can tell - that her aura works most strongly on people who have spent a lot of their life being unkind, but are actively trying to change. Because she knows a lot about everyone who¡¯s part of the Order, to a creepy degree, yes, I agree. And because she doesn¡¯t want to influence you.¡± Davis opened his mouth again, an angry scowl forming around his eyes, and James kept talking. ¡°Yes, I am aware that change is the point. Yes, I told her that. No, she was not swayed by my genius rhetoric. And yes, Amelia, I am aware that she¡¯s a bigger hypocrite than I am, thank you.¡± ¡±Now how in the goddamn did you know I was-¡° ¡±I¡¯ve had this conversation six times, and three of them were with people like you.¡± James answered, exasperated. ¡°No one¡¯s quite like her.¡± Davis said with a twitch of a grin. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any choice but to accept that, huh?¡± James tsked in frustration. ¡°For now. Maybe forever. I dunno, working with Kiki has been hard for everyone, especially her. She¡¯s terrified of herself, and the more Research figures out about the reach of what she can do, the more I kinda get it.¡± He shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m here for though. I¡¯m here to ask how things are going identifying ¡®alchemical neutral¡¯.¡± The two Researchers sighed in unison in the kind of way that James knew personally from his time in college being asked to answer a question where a Red Bull-fueled all-nighter had produced the answer of ¡®I know less now than I did yesterday¡¯. It was kind of endearing that they both did it, too; the emotion of spending time researching and studying only to end up behind where you started apparently being a universal human emotion. Amelia twisted the simple gold bracelet on her wrist as she answered with more or less what James expected. ¡°It seemed like the most basic place to start. And yet all our sap ration for experimentation for two weeks has turned up nothing.¡± ¡±That¡¯s not true.¡± Davis corrected politely. ¡°It¡¯s turned up that our experiments don¡¯t work.¡± He said it cheerfully enough, but there was a hint of annoyance under the calm exterior that the man kept up all the time. The experiment in question was to verify something that had been noticed only after hundreds of different scattershot tests to make new potions had found a strange thing happening. Sometimes, it seemed, ingredients did nothing. Alchemical neutral, they were calling it. And once it was noticed, the obvious course of action was to shift all their current experiments from finding new tools to building a better foundation for doing that finding. So take a potion that was well known. Like, say, the exercise potion. And then make a batch, adding an ingredient. If the potion fails, then you know that ingredient isn¡¯t neutral, because clearly it did something. If it works exactly as expected, then you know whatever you added doesn¡¯t engage with alchemy. And so, in the long run, time is saved by keeping the potion department - James refused to call it Reagent, even though he really really wanted to let his intrusive thoughts win - from using stuff that was literally doing nothing. The problem was simply that it hadn¡¯t worked. Dozens of tests, and nothing they had added had done nothing. Also all of them had caused the output to be worse in every way, possibly dangerously so, so they hadn¡¯t even really improved the potion, and James gave voice to that concern. ¡°Oh. We actually have managed against all sane logic to improve the recipe.¡± Red told him with a tired shake of her head. She delivered that news like it was normal, and James had definitely wanted more information. Which, at least, she was more than willing to provide. ¡°It was the paper. Well, the textbooks. The way my old guild did things, you have to understand, we had one fruit a day. One. For a dozen of us to share, and to turn into profit? There was some competition.¡± The woman set her hand on her chin, staring off to the side as she spoke. ¡°So when we found something that worked, we took it. Face value was the only value that mattered. Of course we could have solved the puzzle, but why bother? There was no competition, and no one would pay more than our too-high prices regardless.¡± ¡±I¡¯m not sure¡­¡± James cocked his head, trying to figure out where this was going. ¡±It wasn¡¯t the textbooks.¡± Davis explained in simple terms. ¡°It was the ink. The reason we had to use older textbooks - not that there was a shortage or anything, Goodwill was pretty happy to see us walk off with them - is because they¡¯re all printed before a law that banned a certain ink.¡± ¡±¡­what kind of ink.¡± James already knew the answer. He shook his head abruptly, interrupting the reply. ¡°No, nevermind, it¡¯s super toxic, isn¡¯t it? Are the exercise potions gonna kill me if I keep using them?¡± Davis shook his head reassuringly. ¡±No, it¡¯s a harmless dose.¡± Red had a different view. ¡°Unless you¡¯re over the age of forty, have a liver problem, or are allergic to mercury.¡± ¡±Everyone¡¯s allergic to-!¡± ¡±That last one was a joke.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°You can look forward to less thick potions. Oh, this does indicate our singular success, in case you were at all curious.¡± James snapped his fingers. ¡°The paper.¡± He got it instantly. If they removed the paper but not the ink, that mean that at least was some form of neutrality in the ingredient. ¡°How did-¡° ¡±We tried it in three other potions and they all failed.¡± Red stated with a dead stare. ¡°So it¡¯s not the paper.¡± ¡±So it¡¯s something else then.¡± James hummed as he drummed his fingers on the table they were meeting at. ¡°But clearly ingredient related. Some kind of limit to the number of discrete things that can be added? No, that doesn¡¯t track with at least three other recipes.¡± The two older humans watched him with silent curiosity as he stood up and paced behind his chair, rubbing his chin as he talked to himself. ¡°We make these in a clean room so it¡¯s not likely contamination, but we can¡¯t rule it out in the ingredients themselves. But college textbooks from 1970 aren¡¯t gonna be clean, so that¡¯s probably out too. And the sap is clearly operating on a kind of semi-human conceptual level, since it¡¯s treating the ink and paper as separate things, but not, like, the elements composing them. But when they¡¯re together, it ignores the¡­ paper¡­¡± He frowned suddenly, staring at the floor. Red spoke quietly out of the side of her mouth to Davis. ¡°Does he do this a lot?¡± ¡±Your guess is as good as mine. I see him as often as you do.¡± He replied in his gentleman¡¯s voice. ¡°James, are you-¡° ¡±Combinations.¡± James said, looking up abruptly. ¡°Oh, sorry. Uh. What¡¯s the potion we have with the fewest ingredients? Skin care or hand grenade, right? Those¡­ both suck for this. Hm.¡± ¡±You have a theory?¡± Red¡¯s voice held an edge to it. In a lot of ways, she was still intently jealous of the fact that many of the others in Research who worked around her on different projects had an intuition she still lacked. But her work took priority to petty human feelings, and when someone like James, who spent half his life in dungeons, said he had a thought? She listened, and she listened closely. James took a breath and shrugged. ¡°I have an idea. I¡¯m wondering if, between this, the fact that we don¡¯t have a good way to know what adding anything to a potion will do, and the times that ingredients were found to be neutral¡­ maybe it¡¯s not ingredients that have effects. Maybe it¡¯s combinations. Maybe just of ingredients, maybe also of methods? But if it is¡­¡± Davis caught on quickly. ¡±If it is, that explains why our tests failed. We¡¯d be looking for what one addition did, but it would be making as many changes as other things it combined with.¡± He shared a look with Amelia. ¡°Can we start making a reference sheet for this?¡± He asked. Red, who had gotten several skill ranks in various mathematics and logistics skills over the late week, gave a sharp smile. ¡°We can work something out.¡± She said, standing up and deciding the meeting was over because she had work to get to. ¡°I¡¯ll have the doses for your masks prepared and in the armory. And if this works, I¡¯ll even give you a real thank you.¡± ¡±¡­You know, from most people, that would be kinda insulting.¡± ¡±And from Red?¡± Davis asked as he stood and offered James a ¡®thank you for your time¡¯ handshake, which the paladin returned. ¡±Oh, still insulting. But she¡¯s already gone and I think we both know she¡¯s more interested in curing the common cold than placating anyone around her.¡± James laughed, and Davis smiled at him before he followed in Amelia¡¯s wake. James shook his head as he left the little break room zone outside the alchemy labs that felt a little more like something Officium Mundi would make than any human. And hell, maybe it had; this whole basement existed as a result of a green orb. It was likely that the counter, sink, fridge, and at least half the tables here did too. The quick conversation hadn¡¯t taken much time. And the reality of the situation was that it wasn¡¯t especially necessary. There was a reason the Order put everything they knew on their servers with a tagging system that was the most enforced arbitrary structure they had in the place. And if that wasn¡¯t enough, there was a constant conversation over text chat, even if it did move slowly sometimes. But there was just something about facing a person and speaking that led to more fluid information sharing. And sometimes, inspiration. ¡°Well, if it pays off.¡± James said with a sigh as he stretched and looked toward one of the halls that led out of here. There were a few; this place was kind of an intersection, and the basement was becoming a warren of obscure intersecting halls and tunnels no matter how many times he demanded they put maps up. Someone, at least, was learning to navigate down here. And James felt like he should have a word with the girl who¡¯d been listening in on their conversation from around the corner. He¡¯d spotted Emma on the way in; she wasn¡¯t following him exactly, but she was going the same direction. Zhu was taking a week-long nap at the moment, so James had gone for an alternate approach to watching the teenager lagging behind him; tapping into the Lair¡¯s webcam that was watching the Ceaseless Stacks tablet in the room just around that corner, which happened to have a view through the door¡¯s window of half of Emma¡¯s body lurking. She didn¡¯t look like she was armed, but she was definitely stalking someone. And James was pretty sure he knew who, just as he knew that Emma¡¯s magic would let her become armed at a moment¡¯s notice if she had the right spell prepared. So he decided to cut this off before things got any further. ¡°Oh¡­ hi?¡± Emma said as James rounded the corner that she was about to peek around, and stopped in front of her. ¡°Uh¡­ I just need to get past, and¡­¡± ¡±Nope.¡± James said, crossing his arms. ¡°You¡¯re stalking Amelia, and I need you to back off.¡± He tried to not sound angry, but the way Emma looked like she knew she was doing something wrong, and still tried to - badly - bluff her way past him just kinda rankled. If Emma had seemed defensive before, she got angry at James¡¯ words really fast. ¡°What do you know? You¡¯re not in charge of where I go!¡± James steadied himself, and let her words splash off his invincible defense of keeping his arms crossed and giving her a level look. ¡°Let¡¯s sit.¡± He said. ¡°You can tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± He jerked his head toward the same table he¡¯d just been at, walking back over and noting through two expanded forms of vision that Emma followed. Though she did stare at the chair for a while before eventually dragging it across the floor with a squeal and sitting stiffly. ¡°So.¡± James said. ¡°Want to tell me, or should I take a guess?¡± ¡°Are you spying on us?¡± Emma asked with the kind of indignation that James often drew on when he had his own negative encounters with authority figures. ¡±No, though should I be?¡± He cocked an eyebrow at her. ¡±I wasn¡¯t going to do anything.¡± Emma said, retreating into herself as she twisted in the chair. James watched the human girl for a few seconds, before sighing and letting his voice soften. ¡°You are in the process of doing something.¡± He reminded her. ¡±I¡¯m just¡­ waiting.¡± Emma said, defensive energy at full power. ¡°I¡¯m allowed to be here.¡± ¡±Technically.¡± James nodded. ¡°But bad faith arguments don¡¯t work on me. You¡¯re stalking Amelia. That is something. And I need to make sure that you aren¡¯t going to hurt anybody. Either someone else, or yourself.¡± ¡±Myself?!¡± Emma had been prepared to give James a silent glower until he left her alone, but that accusation pried a deep anger out of her. ¡°You think I¡¯d-¡° ¡±I think you¡¯re spending your morning following a sixty two year old woman who you hate, and you¡¯re either planning or fantasizing about revenge.¡± James said as calmly as he could, doing an excellent job of keeping himself from letting anything hostile come through. ¡°You are hurting yourself already, even if you didn¡¯t think of it that way.¡± Emma went still, eyes widening before she jerked and refused to meet James¡¯ gaze. Instead she looked at anything else in the otherwise empty break room space. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to hurt her.¡± She spat. ¡°Not yet. Not this time.¡± James said quietly. ¡°But you were thinking about it. About what she deserves. About what you could do. Maybe you were thinking that you know it¡¯s wrong, so you won¡¯t actually do anything, but what if¡­¡± She still didn¡¯t meet his eyes, but he didn¡¯t look away or fidget, just providing a calm presence for her. ¡°That kind of thing doesn¡¯t feel good, does it?¡± ¡±No.¡± Emma eventually admitted. She didn¡¯t say anything else, but James didn¡¯t press the conversation. He just nodded, and sat there, waiting for her. Like he expected something. ¡°She killed my best friend.¡± She said, feeling pathetic as she did. Like it was an excuse or something. James just nodded. ¡°Yeah. She did. Or her organization did. Ultimately, Amelia is partly responsible. So¡¯s Nile, really.¡± Emma hadn¡¯t actually expected an agreement. ¡°So why¡¯s she still here?¡± She asked. ¡°She¡¯s evil, she doesn¡¯t deserve¡­¡± she sat forward, waving a hand at the Lair. ¡°This. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be good guys?¡± ¡±I like to think so.¡± James smiled without raising his voice or changing his tone. ¡±So get rid of her! Or put her in jail or something!¡± The look that James gave her was so sad that it almost cut through the righteous fury that Emma had built up from a combination of a desire for revenge and a mostly successful self-brainwashing regimen. ¡°Because she killed your friend?¡± ¡±She didn¡¯t just kill her! Brit¡¯s corpse is still walking around! Do you know how gross that is? To see someone you used to know, but they¡¯re a monster now?!¡± Emma yelled at him. ¡°And you won¡¯t do anything!¡± ¡±I¡¯ve killed people¡¯s friends too.¡± James said gently, and Emma froze, staring at him. The teenager completely unprepared for that blunt admission. ¡°I like to think I¡¯ve avoided killing in anger, that it¡¯s always been defensive. But I¡¯ve still done it.¡± He took a long breath. ¡°I know it¡¯s not the same, if you were thinking that.¡± Emma had been, yeah. ¡°But I¡¯m trying to be better. And so¡¯s Amelia. We¡¯re just working from different places.¡± Emma didn¡¯t really want to hear it. ¡°What do you even want?¡± She asked James, trying to deflect the conversation back on him with a fumbling stab at emotional manipulation. But James just took the question and broke her attempt to make him feel bad by giving an honest answer. ¡°I want you to grow up without feeling afraid or powerless. I want everyone to be able to be better tomorrow than they are today. And I want to get rid of the idea that if we kill all the bad people, then the world will only have good people left in it.¡± He spread his hands on the table. ¡°What do you want?¡± He turned the question around on her. And because he¡¯d been honest with her, and had actually listened, Emma at least tried to give him a real answer. ¡±Liam wants to forget everything that happened and have a normalish life. Luc- Uh, Lincon wants to be a superhero I think. But I don¡¯t know what I want.¡± It felt so freeing to say that. ¡°I just¡­ it hurts so much when I see her here. And I just thought¡­ I thought I could¡­ do something. Or maybe there¡¯s a way to get Brit back, or something.¡± She covered her face with a sleeve, soaking up the tears before the older human sitting on the other side of the table could see them. ¡±Yeah.¡± James sighed. ¡°I get that.¡± ¡±How?!¡± ¡±You think I haven¡¯t lost anyone?¡± He asked. ¡°I had a friend who died so hard I can¡¯t even remember them. There¡¯s just a hole. It sucks. So far, there hasn¡¯t really been any end to how much it sucks.¡± ¡±Aren¡¯t you supposed to be reassuring me that everything will be fine?¡± Emma had heard that line so much from her bishop that she kind of expected it as the standard hollow platitude. James snorted. ¡°Fuck that.¡± He said, before remembering the conditioned aversion to profanity the kids in Emma¡¯s group all had. ¡°Things don¡¯t just become fine. Fine takes work. But¡­ look. If Red- if Amelia was still hurting people? I¡¯d be right there with you on trying to stop her. But revenge for the sake of revenge? It¡¯s not going to make you feel anything new. And we can solve the problem of you not running into her a lot easier than through murder.¡± ¡±And what about Brittany?¡± Emma asked. ¡°Or does she just have to keep being trapped in that¡­ that¡­¡± ¡±Ah.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Okay, this one is weird, but¡­ do you want to know something about the inhabitors?¡± Emma nodded slowly. ¡°The original person isn¡¯t¡­ there. You talked to her, back when we first met, remember? Well, what she told you then is true. Your friend is gone. The person that lives in that body now wasn¡¯t a willing participant in that event, and¡­ and I think that¡¯s a big part of the reason inhabitors avoid mirrors.¡± James had felt sick when he¡¯d put that bit of psychology together. ¡°Bea is as much a victim of the Alchemists as your friend Brittany was.¡± Emma didn¡¯t look like she bought that. ¡°But she¡¯s a monster.¡± ¡±Because she¡¯s not human?¡± James asked, and saw the way Emma faltered in her nod. Good, he thought, because breaking that thought loop was high on the priority for the Order¡¯s interactions with all these kids. ¡°Have you talked to her? Not to ask about your old friend, but just to get to know Bea.¡± Emma shook her head slowly. ¡°You should try.¡± James said with a reassuring smile. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ I mean¡­ she¡¯s new. And she¡¯s learning what she wants too. And I¡¯m not saying that she¡¯s a replacement or a fix to anything. But it might help you understand better.¡± ¡±Because you want everyone to get along.¡± Emma challenged him, trying to hold onto the anger, but finding it slipping through her mental fingers. James smiled more openly. ¡°I want that. I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll happen cause people suck sometimes too. But I¡¯m going to do what I can to give people the chance.¡± He slowly stood up. ¡°Do you want to talk to Bea?¡± He asked. ¡±¡­No.¡± Emma said with bitter teenage resentment. ¡°¡­but I will.¡± ¡±Alright.¡± James said, turning to leave. ¡°Wait there a second.¡± He said over his shoulder as he walked back around the corner to where his webcam accomplice was watching Bea stiffly lingering before entering the room and interrupting their conversation. ¡°Go.¡± He told her directly, walking past the inhabitor as he made his way out of the alchemy department. ¡±But-¡° ¡±Go say hi.¡± James reiterated, shutting down his visual feed from the webcam, because something about the quality was making him nauseous as he walked. ¡°No pressure.¡± He kept walking, turning a corner and just barely seeing Bea take a halting step into the room before he was out of sight. James let out a tense breath, feeling all the confidence and the false face of a composed individual drain away along with the pressure of the chat. He really hadn¡¯t been prepared for that, and he hoped he¡¯d done okay. But he needed to find something non-social to do for at least an hour. Maybe he could go restock on a couple Utah spells after the Officium Mundi delve he¡¯d been on last night. The delve had been worth it, both concretely and in the abstract. A lot more mana coffee funneled into the duplication ritual that really was what kept the Order running, but also, a small green orb that gave a building an increase to how fast batteries recharged inside. It wasn¡¯t a huge bonus, keeping with the size of the orb, but they¡¯d made a number of copies and at least for parts of the Lair, something like getting one of the camraconda arm backpacks up to full charge only took fifteen minutes now. For a phone or laptop, even less. But James was tired physically from all the running, tired mentally from all the big picture planning, and tired emotionally from everything that had just happened. So he needed a break. Which was, of course, why he was currently wondering if he had time to dive into a side room and escape from Momo, who was approaching him with the kind of intense energy that she had when she was hyperfocused on a task. El trailed behind her, blonde braid bouncing haphazardly as she chased Momo in the middle of an argument that was clearly being ignored. ¡°-just fucking do that! That¡¯s insane! I¡¯m not gonna just- James! James say no to whatever she asks!¡± El yelled at him. James sighed, clearly far too late to throw himself through a doorway and seal himself off. One of his hands dipped into a pocket and touched the edge of a prepared telepad, but he hesitated. He had promised Momo he¡¯d be less of a dick about her work, especially since she¡¯d clearly been making an effort to do things safer. And her quest to make an automatic Garden spell equipped was something that was admirable, especially if she could do it without doing to anyone¡¯s brains what happened to that one guy in Scanners. So he waved at the two of them with his free hand as El closed the gap to a slowing Momo and grabbed at her. Which gave him a great view of the quartet of speckled-white folded bird wings coming out of El¡¯s back. ¡°Hey you two. Oh hey, nice wings El. You look¡­ uh¡­¡± he wanted to say angelic but he had the sense that word would piss off the woman that was only kind of his friend. ¡°Hhhhhot no fuck dammit.¡± James actually did not know why his mouth had filled in that word. ¡±Sure that¡¯s fucking weird coming from you but thanks.¡± El said, gasping for breath as she clapped a hand over Momo¡¯s mouth. ¡°Say no to this idiot.¡± She commanded James. ¡±I feel like we never talk anymore.¡± James said idly. ¡°You know we do Route delves still, right? You should come chauffeur me into peril sometime. There¡¯s moose now!¡± ¡°There¡¯s always been moose, you just can¡¯t talk about them to anyone who doesn¡¯t know about the moose.¡± El told him bluntly. ¡°Come on man, I¡¯m asking nicely and Momo¡¯s gonna get away from me. Just tell her no.¡± James sighed. ¡°Look, this is funny and all, but I¡¯ve kinda had a lot of draining conversations today.¡± His voice was heavy, and even Momo stopped writhing quite so aggressively as she wiggled out of El¡¯s grasp. ¡°I¡¯m sure this is some funny antics or something, but I just¡­ I¡¯m not feeling it. Momo, can what you need wait?¡± Momo opened her mouth, and then froze before coughing and shuffling back, flicking the felt belt of her bathrobe back and forth nervously. ¡°Uh¡­ I mean¡­ probably?¡± She clearly hadn¡¯t expected to encounter sincerity and emotional overload so quickly out of the gate. ¡°I mean I did kind of have a real request.¡± ¡±Alright, go for it.¡± James nodded, bracing himself. ¡±Can I have an exoskeleton?¡± Momo asked the question like a kid who knew their Christmas wishlist was way too aspirational. Lately, James had run into a specific feeling more than he ever had before. It was the sensation of going into a situation with a kind of scope of what he could expect, and then, whoever he was talking to just throwing a complete curveball at him. He was prepared for Momo to ask permission to base jump from their skyscraper office building, or authorization to see how many infomorphs she could fit inside her head. He had a kind of outside boundary to his list that stopped just past ¡®hey James can I eat a dungeon core assuming they are a real thing¡¯ and only slightly before ¡®hey James I need you to kill someone for me¡¯. But only because he figured Momo could handle her own murder if she needed to, and that really wasn¡¯t her style anyway. It wasn¡¯t like it was a sliding scale, more like an amorphous blob on a map of all possible topics. But wherever ¡®exoskeleton¡¯ was, it was in one of the spots that blob had never come close to covering. ¡±No?¡± Was the best pitiful utterance James could muster. ¡°What? No. Why.¡± ¡±Yeah Momers, why?¡± El prompted hotly. ¡°Why would you possibly need power armor?¡± ¡±Oh!¡± James slapped his forehead, exhaling in relief. ¡°That kind of exoskeleton! Jesus, that¡¯s so much easier.¡± Momo¡¯s comical nod was almost a blur as she leaned back into El and let the taller girl yelp in panic before bracing her feet to keep Momo from falling over. ¡°Yeah! I need more carrying capacity, so I figured I could get one of those fancy powered exoskeleton things the army was thinking of using for hauling stuff! Not, like, a shaper substance Kafkaization bug exoskeleton, and I see now how I could have said it better. Anyway. I need one?¡± ¡±Wow that answered basically no questions.¡± James said, shaking his head. ¡°Also no? Those things are, like, ten thousand bucks and we have a purple orb for lifting strength.¡± ¡±No, that¡¯s only arm strength, I need, like, to be able to shove a thousand pounds in a backpack.¡± Momo snapped the collar of her robe as she got into the conversation and then had to catch her balance when El let go of her. ¡±Yeah,¡± El said with clear annoyance painted on her face, ¡°a thousand pounds of what? Go on, I bet James would love to know.¡± ¡°I would.¡± Momo scratched the back of her head and looked at the concrete ceiling. ¡°Compuuuuuter¡­ stuff?¡± Increasingly James was not sure he wanted to know. But now he had to know. ¡±Why.¡± Steeling herself, Momo decided to just rip the bandaid off. ¡±Okay, so¡­ you know how a while back I made that joke about how I had a caller ID totem and I was gonna deploy Response teams to just fuckin¡¯ demolish anyone who tried to reach me about my car¡¯s extended warranty?¡± The memory sounded like something Momo would do, so James nodded. ¡±I mean, I believe you, sure.¡± ¡±Weeeeell, Response is busy all the time, and a lot of people lack my vision. So, uh¡­¡± ¡±So this dumbass has been teleporting to random office rentals in India, Nigeria, and Florida, and fucking wrecking them.¡± El finished, the gentle arm she had set around Momo¡¯s shoulders rapidly turning into a headlock. ¡°And her question here is because she wants to steal more stuff at a time.¡± That sounded hilarious. But James felt like he was in the position of designated adult in this conversation, so he didn¡¯t say that just yet. ¡±Wait, hang on.¡± He held up a hand. ¡°More stealing?¡± Momo tried to nod, replying with a choked voice. ¡°Oh, yeah! I¡¯ve got, like¡­ a few thousand smartphones, and a bunch of other computers. Cables. A minifridge. That kinda stuff. I keep them in a storage room down here!¡± She actually had a precise tally, because she was proud of her work, but this seemed like the wrong time to share that. ¡°Anyway, the point is, it¡¯s kind of a waste if I¡¯m not-¡° ¡±Wait, wait, stop.¡± James rubbed a hand over his face, not allowing himself to enjoy the sensation of nothing hurting or being tender healing flesh as he did so. ¡°You, Momo, you, have been tagging and disrupting phone scammers by warping to their offices, presumably while they¡¯re there, and just grabbing anything you can? And storing all that here, in the Lair?¡± Momo made a derisive noise. ¡°Please. I wait until local nighttime so no one¡¯s around! Also I wipe everything before bringing it back just in case. Also I don¡¯t just steal! I break anything I can¡¯t carry!¡± She grinned and mimed swinging a baseball bat. Or tried to; she was hampered by El slapping her in the face with a twitch of an extended wing. ¡±Make her stop.¡± El said. ¡±Yeah, Momers, this is¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡±Oh, what, are we pretending that I¡¯m the bad guy in this one, and not the people whose day job is stealing boomers¡¯ pensions?¡± Momo jerked her head back hard enough to force El away, straightening her spine and suddenly looking like an almost completely different version of herself. There was a moment of almost palpable anger rolling off her. ¡°Fuck off. Both of you. This is the most obvious version of this game; they¡¯re doing something that adds no value and just hurts people, and I¡¯m removing their ability to do that.¡± Silence followed Momo¡¯s statement, until she cleared her throat, slouched back to her normal posture, and added ¡°And also stealing, like, a fucking lot of phones. Which I could do better with some kind of exoske-¡° James¡¯ fingers tugged at the page of the telepad. Just a little bit at first, but then he considered the extent to which he was being hammered by emotional whiplash today, and he made his decision. ¡°Hey, El, great to see you. We should catch up sometime. You can tell me how you walk around like that and don¡¯t knock everything over; Cam¡¯s keeping her method secret for some reason. Anyway!¡± ¡±No wait!¡± El¡¯s shout was at the halfway point of pleading and pissed. It was too late, though. James was gone. Not even that far, either; he was just in his office ¡®upstairs¡¯. ¡°Hey Rufus. Hey Ganesh.¡± He greeted the two small Officium Mundi life forms that were currently occupying the room. ¡°Sorry to interrupt.¡± Rufus waved a pen leg at him, while he and Ganesh kept looking up models of drones. They¡¯d picked out three to add to the digital store¡¯s cart so far, and since Rufus had been given a debit card for business reasons due to his involvement with the school, he didn¡¯t even have to bother Cathy or Joe or Smoke to make the purchase. Soon, a problem neither of them had really noticed creeping in would be solved, and Ganesh wouldn¡¯t be quite so alone. James wasn¡¯t really interrupting, so Rufus didn¡¯t mind. Sometimes this office needed to be teleported into. He completely understood. He also understood how tired the human looked. Rufus and Ganesh shared a look, the drone¡¯s faceted camera eyes glinting before he flapped his rotor wings to gain a burst of altitude and land on James¡¯ shoulder. Even now, years old and with the clarity of context, Ganesh was still more fond of the first human he¡¯d bonded with. But Anesh¡¯s boyfriend was a decent person too, and he deserved a little pat on the head from the drone¡¯s plastic batlike wing. ¡±Heh.¡± James seemed to sink into the chair as he sighed. ¡°Thanks Ganesh.¡± The drone tapped him again before buzzing away, landing on the desk again somehow without sending any of the paper notes on it flying. ¡°Today has been long. I¡¯m glad it¡¯s over.¡± Rufus looked up, his single central eye tracking his human companion. A series of taps from his legs on the wood of the desk rotated him loudly to look up at the wall clock, before the same motion in reverse brought him back to looking at James. ¡±Yeah man, I know it¡¯s only noon. It¡¯s still been a long day.¡± James stared up at the ceiling panels. ¡°At least there¡¯s nothing else I really need to do tod-¡° Rufus tried. He really did. He was frantically waving and trying to warn James of exactly what that kind of talk caused. He¡¯d seen it happen, and not just to humans either. Smoke had once said that she was glad for her new body that did exactly what she wanted, right before she¡¯d fallen down two flights of stairs. When setting up the school building, every time Bill said ¡®at least the work is done now¡¯, more work manifested. Taunting fate seemed like a superstition, but it just kept happening. Rufus was convinced that there was a deeper magic at play than anything the dungeons caused. Maybe a pillar did it. Maybe Earth itself was a dungeon and all its magic worked on the principle of making life harder for its residents. It could have been anything, really, that made James¡¯ phone ring. It could even just be random chance and confirmation bias. Rufus was aware of all possibilities. But as he saw James answer, listen to the voice on the other end, and then jolt to his feet to teleport away with barely a goodbye, all Rufus could think was that he really had tried to stop this. He just wasn¡¯t powerful enough yet. Chapter 313 ¡°If fighting is sure to result in victory then you must fight! Sun Tzu said that! And I think he knew a little more about fighting than you do!¡± -The Soldier, Team Fortress 2; Meet The Soldier- _____ The paladin monthly security briefing was tomorrow. One more day, and James could have sat down with Spire-Cast-Behind, Alex, Simon, and a collection of the smartest and most up to date people in the Order to discuss their next moves. Picking targets and projects, splitting up who went where, and generally maintaining forward momentum for the Order without pushing so hard they burned out. The last time they¡¯d done one of these, it had just been James, and he¡¯d opted to ignore five other low-risk disasters in favor of getting in a fight with a secret cabal inside the Mormon Church. It had been working out okay, though the young people who¡¯d been rescued from the process of self-inflicted magical conditioning were¡­ well they needed time. Time the Order was happy to give them to heal and relax. The fact that James had also gotten them access to two dungeons and maybe a fairly strategic ally (or at least not enemy) was a bonus. A really, really good bonus. This time, there was just as much to consider. James was looking forward to seeing how Ishah had grown into the role, and also to seeing if he could bait Jim into an argument about the definition of anarchy in front of everyone. He was also mildly anxious in the way that just constantly made him feel like he had really bad heartburn every half hour. Because at a certain point, they needed to actually make a decision on what they were doing about Priority Earth, and James didn¡¯t know what they were doing. Also there were items on the agenda for negotiating with a foreign government, tracking down pillars and their activities, spying on those potential strategic allies, hunting down more dangerous dungeons, making contact with a new delver group James wasn¡¯t even aware of somehow, and probably a few other things on top of that. In reality, the Order didn¡¯t have a lot of pressing threats for paladins to handle. There was definitely stuff to do, but it seemed likely that Alex was gonna go off with Spire to investigate where the hell the giant memory eating worm thing came from, and Simon and James would be devoting their time to tracking down pillars and dungeons. Other stuff would probably come up, but there wasn¡¯t a target right now. Even the Priority Earth people had been just doing what they¡¯d been doing from the start; nothing. Sitting in their camp, sometimes trekking into the nearest town for supplies, and presumably paying the Wolfpack unit with them a ton of money to do nothing. It was weird. It was also probably not going to happen tomorrow. Which was a shame. James¡¯ teleport terminated somewhere in Springfield, Missouri. He knew nothing about the geography of this place, beyond a cursory look at Google Maps back before Alanna and Anesh had firmly asked him to take himself off the list of people hunting for the Underburbs. So really, he knew two things about this place, of differing levels of import. One; it had a castle in it somewhere. And two; it might be where the Underburbs breached into reality. Since he was here, now, answering a distress call, it seemed likely that he could update datum number two. ¡°Alice!¡± James was moving as soon as his feet were on different ground, which was basically right away. The scout was sitting on a park bench across the street, and she looked hurt. Quick stepping across the empty road, James got intercepted by a camraconda¡¯s stare before he could get within twenty feet of the woman. He tried to comment on how jarring that was, but couldn¡¯t move until Alex sprinted over to him from the side and held a hand in front of his armored chest. ¡±Spire, let him go. Hey.¡± Alex greeted him. ¡°Hi. Yeah. Don¡¯t get near her.¡± She kept flicking her head over to look at Alice like she was afraid that taking her eyes off the woman would be disastrous. ¡°She¡¯s contagious.¡± The implication of that was instantly clear, and when Alice looked up to show off red eyes and grey skin, it kind of undercut the shaky thumbs up she shot James¡¯ way. ¡±Shit.¡± James said bluntly. ¡°Underburbs?¡± ¡±We think so.¡± Simon said, joining them along with Spire-Cast-Behind. All three other paladins were also already armed and armored, standing in the middle of a public street with no concern. ¡°If it is, it¡¯s probably coming either east or south,¡± he pointed into the distance, past clumps of trees, weathered buildings, and curving roads, ¡°since that¡¯s where the nearest suburbs are. Also¡­ listen.¡± James did, focusing into the distance with his ears to pick up the sounds of shouts, screams, and sometimes, gunfire. ¡°Okay.¡± He reached through his skulljack to his phone and pressed a button that he was hoping to not have to use for a lot longer. ¡°Mobilization call put out. What happened to Alice? Where¡¯s Charlie and Dance?¡± God he hoped they were okay, especially the young camraconda girl. ¡±We don¡¯t know. Alice can¡¯t talk right now, and we don¡¯t actually know what to do.¡± Alex was doing a great job of keeping it together, but it was clear that she was starting to crack. And James couldn¡¯t really blame her; if he wasn¡¯t as much of a dungeon and crisis veteran as he was, he might be falling apart right now too. But as it was, he felt like he knew exactly where to start. ¡±Simon, follow the road, Alex, cut across that field and check that way. Look for anything moving, any signs of people, and especially any mist. Do not touch anything, come back as soon as you spot anything.¡± James ordered. ¡°Spire, you¡¯re on guard duty for a sec until someone else shows up; keep anyone away from Alice. Alice!¡± He called over and the woman raised her head, clearly dizzy from the effort. ¡°Sit tight, help is on the way!¡± ¡±What about her partners?¡± Simon asked quietly. ¡±Find them.¡± James said. ¡°Fast.¡± He unclipped the drones from their carrying cases on his belt and lobbed them one a time into the air, putting his overwatch on standby while he prepared to make a call. ¡°We need to know where this is coming from, and why it¡¯s happening now. Go.¡± The paladins moved, Alex especially seeming to explode into motion as she cleared the distance to the corner of what looked like an old church building in a a couple seconds. ¡±It¡¯s so quiet.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said, armored tail tense on the ground next to James. The comment wasn¡¯t meant for him, so he just nodded grimly, and opened the conference call that had started. ¡°Hi. James here.¡± He started with, and got sudden silence from the other voices on the line. ¡°We have a bit of a worst case scenario on our hands. I know we haven¡¯t done any mass deployment scenario practice, but I¡¯m gonna need everyone to do their best, okay? Because it looks like people are counting on us.¡± A dozen voices gave him assent, and James almost smiled as he continued, half his focus on the view from the drones overhead. There was a car approaching from the other direction, and he stepped into the way to make sure he¡¯d block it from progressing, one hand out while he kept talking. ¡°We¡¯re in Springfield Missouri, check with Spire for specific coordinates. We think we¡¯re on the edge of an Underburbs breach.¡± James didn¡¯t pause to let that sink in, just started stating what was needed. ¡°We need all available shield and response teams, in maximum protective gear available. Prioritize anti-pathogen over armor. We¡¯re going to need a quarantine and medical space set up nearby, because there are likely civilians still alive. If Sarah is listening or-¡° ¡±I am!¡± ¡±-good. If you have that anti-dungeon weapon done that I asked about literally two hours ago, now would be the time to tell me. Also begin preparing benefactors for avatar activity. If anyone in Research has been preparing some kind of irresponsibly dangerous dungeontech, now is the time to tell me and I won¡¯t even be mad.¡± He took a breath as the pickup truck that he was now actively obstructing tried to swerve around him, and James stepped into its way again. ¡°I know we didn¡¯t plan for this exactly. I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯m fucking up your plans. But we need everyone we can get.¡± From the call, someone else spoke up. Nate, a voice that James hadn¡¯t heard in a while, asking his own string of questions. ¡°Any pillar activity in the area? Memeplexes or infomorph action?¡± ¡±Doesn¡¯t feel like I¡¯m having trouble telling you anything, so maybe no memeplexes.¡± James said as he winced to see the drivers door of the pickup open and a burly bearded man get out with a twisted expression on his face. He didn¡¯t really want to pick a fight right now. But then the guy just turned and ran the other direction, which solved a problem, but introduced a whole new question. ¡°Hang on.¡± James looked over his shoulder; the road looked normal, if still empty, the surrounding area not especially scary. ¡°Why¡­¡± Then the passenger door of the truck popped open, and a woman in grey plate mail stepped heavily onto the truck¡¯s runner, before her armored boot hit the pavement with an audible thud. ¡±Oh good.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said, somehow affecting a deeply exasperated tone with just the modulation of her digital voice. ¡°Camille is here.¡± Spire¡¯s voice was unique among camracondas and humans both, but it wasn¡¯t hard for James to pick up on the sarcasm. ¡°Hey, Nate? Yeah, I¡¯m gonna say yes to the pillar thing.¡± He said as the Camille approached him with a casual walk that still made her seem like an unstoppable juggernaut. ¡°Lloyd at least, possibly more. Dungeon breach suggests Blitzkrieg. I¡¯ve gotta go right now, I¡¯ll see everyone when you arrive.¡± It wasn¡¯t the way these discussions were supposed to go. And if he¡¯d had more time, James would have wanted to open the floor for dissenting voices or alternate plans. But they didn¡¯t have time, and he specifically had even less. ¡±Get out of my way.¡± Camille said as she strode up to James, an imperious stare that somehow felt like it was coming from someone five feet taller than him, even though every single Camille was exactly five foot ten. Unfortunately for this Camille, James had experience verbally disarming them. ¡°I¡¯m really hoping you¡¯re a Violet¡± He said plainly, and the girl¡¯s frown twitched just enough that James knew he¡¯d both surprised her and hit the mark. ¡°Okay, good. Congratulations, you¡¯re temporarily drafted. Wait here.¡± She opened her mouth like she was going to speak, and James just rolled over her. ¡°You¡¯ll still be able to accomplish your objective of shutting down this breach, you¡¯ll just be able to do it faster with us. Also you¡¯ll get to feel actually heroic, which I know is important to you.¡± James stared at her like he was challenging the daughter of the Last Line of Defense to contradict him. ¡°I can also tell you right now we have no intention of interfering with your patron pillar for the duration of this crisis.¡± ¡±¡­Who¡­¡± She stopped, and then stiffened like she¡¯d had a lesson drilled into her and almost messed it up. ¡°I am Camille the Violet. Might I know your name?¡± ¡±James Lyle. Paladin of the Order of Endless Rooms.¡± James said the words, and almost, almost didn¡¯t feel silly about them. ¡°This is Spire-Cast-Behind, same title. Are you willing-¡° a hundred feet away, six people in armor and carrying rifles popped into existence. ¡°-to help us-¡° another telepad displacement and there was a group of knights spreading out and searching the immediate area, as well as someone in a heavy white protective suit and a matte glowing green mask rushing toward Alice with a medical kit. ¡°-fix this problem?¡± The Camille¡¯s eyes widened slightly as she looked around at the incoming members of the Order and their uncoordinated but forcefully intentional actions. ¡°You.¡± She said. ¡°You stole my sisters.¡± The words were part challenge, all accusation. ¡±No. Sort of. You can talk to them about it later if you want.¡± James offered. ¡°Now yes or no? Because I¡¯m busy and I don¡¯t have time for you if you¡¯re just going to go in there to die.¡± He stabbed a finger to point down the road to where a creeping sense of something virulent and painful was waiting for him. ¡±¡­Yes.¡± She said, like she was entirely unprepared for this. Which she was. That was why it worked, and James took advantage of his prior knowledge of the Daughters to apply an onslaught of social pressure that most of them would have a hard time managing. He nodded and left her to wait, while he and Spire moved toward the rest of the incoming Order. James wasn¡¯t in charge of organization or the more military option, but he could help with his overhead map of the area. He spotted Alex coming back with a cluster of people in tow the same time that Simon was returning from the other direction down the street. The other two paladins intersected him while Alex left her people with the small medical team. ¡±There¡¯s a hilly field and a little creek that way, found these idiots having a knife fight there.¡± Alex said. ¡°For fun, you know, like people do. No sign of the dungeon. Simon?¡± ¡±I found Dance.¡± He said, voice tight. ¡°She was hurt. Doesn¡¯t remember how they got separated. I think there¡¯s Underburbs creatures out. Definite fighting going on deeper in that way.¡± In his quest to read every demographic statistic that he could, James had picked up a rough estimation of what parts of the US were the most armed. As someone who somewhat hypocritically hated guns, he was disappointed with the numbers, but right now he felt like having half the state armed might actually save lives. James resisted taking a deep breath; even with the delver mask on, he felt like he was exposing himself to something bad here. Maybe that was just paranoia from his last time with this dungeon. ¡°Okay.¡± He said, anger surging through his veins but not reaching his tone. ¡°We need to get in there. Two options we know of; either this is because the dungeon got kicked out of its home territory, so we should be prepared for Blitzkrieg or something like her, or it¡¯s someone anchoring it here, so we need to find that anchor and shoot it.¡± He looked at them, and saw that despite the danger and the horror, they were looking back with determination. ¡°At the very least, we can take territory, and the shield teams can hold it.¡± James said. ¡°Any other suggestions?¡± ¡±Spire and I have authorities, we can seal against pathogens.¡± Alex said. ¡°Deb taught me this trick. It¡¯s not quite as effective if we spread it to other people, but we can do it.¡± ¡±Mine can¡¯t do that yet.¡± Simon frowned. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta pick that up.¡± ¡±Yes. Later. Authority, protect us from disease and other infection. Focus myself and James.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said, the green ribbon around her neck twisting and spinning until part of it split off to wrap around James¡¯ wrist. Next to her, Alex gave a similar command and passed part of hers off to Simon. ¡°Someone approaches.¡± Spire pointed one of the mechanical limbs down the street. ¡°Could we be better armed?¡± She asked. Her personal modified pack had been rebuilt by an enthusiastic engineering student to have a special motor on it just for reloading her crossbow, but that felt¡­ inadequate, in the face of the Underburbs. And the gun bracelet worn like a torque over the ribbon of her authority wasn¡¯t going to be doing that much with its limited charges. ¡±Ethan¡¯s fetching us the dangerous stuff. Simon, hammer. Alex, fireball gun. I¡¯ll have the cell phone, so if anyone has a problem with existential dread, tell me now.¡± James had a problem with existential dread, but he¡¯d drop that if it meant solving a practical problem. ¡±James!¡± The voice of the approaching out-of-breath man drew the group¡¯s attention as Nik dropped his hands to his knees and gasped. ¡°Reed sends a thing!¡± He fumbled out a trio of small objects from his pocket. They looked like a metal plate the size of two fingers, with a pair of gears and little latch on them. ¡°What is this?¡± He asked. ¡±Dungeon detector.¡± Nik said between gasps. ¡°Uh¡­ Reed says it¡¯s a shit one. It only detects if you¡¯re in a dungeon. Which is why he didn¡¯t tell anyone; he¡¯s kind of embarrassed.¡± ¡±This is perfect.¡± James¡¯ grinned behind the mask as someone else teleported in fumbling with a series of cases, the other young man running their way with a much more athletic fluidity. Ethan dropped off the weapons and dungeon tools with them, including a real battle rifle and matching gun bracelet for James. The group did a last minute check of themselves and each other¡¯s armor, the actual practice they¡¯d put in as a team coming together with a sudden rush of competent and quick motions. For just a moment, James stood in what felt like the eye of a storm. Around him, knights and support staff rushed to and fro, as more and more people appeared. Snippets of conversation came to his ears as he centered himself. ¡±Local police are responding. No calls coming out of the area, but people around it are reporting gunshots. JP¡¯s on it, but Long might be in play.¡± ¡±See if anyone¡¯s in that church. We¡¯re building a quarantine setup off site, we can swap the whole field with it.¡± ¡±Traffic is stopped on these four streets, but we don¡¯t know how wide the zone is. Move new arrivals to these spots and have teams two and four move out to keep adding blockades.¡± ¡±Casualties spotted three blocks in. Vehicle collision. Might be survivors.¡± ¡±Pendragon loading up for search and rescue. ETA ten minutes.¡± ¡±Hello sister.¡± James turned at the last one to see Cam - their Cam - approaching her sister who was still standing where James had left her. The fresh Camille stared at the form of her copy with something approaching open disgust, before turning away silently. As more and more people arrived, the need to wait for anything rapidly dropped to nothing. Anything past this point would be stalling, and James knew it. From his overhead drones, he watched as the Order fanned out and created a block facing outward across multiple streets, while teams began probing inward to evacuate people that weren¡¯t yet inside the dungeon¡¯s reach. ¡°Okay.¡± He started to say, opening with his favorite time wasting word. And then he saw the thing moving across a series of slanted rooftops. Old shingles and built up mast shoved aside as a sticky black line like a worm made of tar hopped from one roof to the next in a fountaining arc. At least, until James was watching it. Because abruptly, as if it could sense his eyes on it, it pooled flat, wrapping in on itself and arranging into a ring shape on the roof where James was observing from overhead. Black lines flowed from the inside of the ring to connect to each other, forming a kind of jagged forked lightning bolt symbol. And James¡¯ tibia exploded. The attack went straight through the normal purple orb protection, though the shards of the bone were rapidly pulled back together and fused like nothing had ever happened. It hadn¡¯t been violent enough to send bone shards into his muscles, but it hurt. A lot. To the point that he screamed and tumbled forward before cutting connection with the drones and letting them fall from the sky somewhere in the distance. [Watcher - Shallow : +2 Skill Points] ¡±Ow.¡± James said as someone dropped next to him and helped him up. ¡°I¡¯m good. Down one get-out-of-boneitus-free card. But I¡¯m good.¡± By his very meticulous count, he had exactly one stockpiled effect from that kind of purple orb. Despite the healing, he still took his time putting pressure on his leg, just in case. But it seemed like he was restored, even if the lingering specter of pain remained, like his body was convinced it should still be hurting. Broadcasting to the whole Order, he added an important directive. ¡°No skulljack drone use. All operators, switch to analog control now. There are visual hazards in the area, and they can hit through skulljack links.¡± He paused and then added. ¡°And maybe also through screens. Maybe cut drone use entirely. If you see something black and slimy forming patterns, cut immediately.¡± Simon let go of him as he stabilized on his feet, the other man looking down the road. ¡°So what now? Do we just go and hope we find something?¡± He asked. ¡±Almost.¡± James said, looking back at the abandoned pickup truck before turning back to address the pillar minion he¡¯d recruited. ¡°Camille. How strong is your assault sense?¡± She clearly didn¡¯t expect him to know about that, even though James felt like it would be obvious that their Cam would have told them a few things. ¡°If I ask, for example, for you to give us a route to something that could stop this?¡± ¡±No.¡± Camille¡¯s answer was simple and almost disappointed. ¡°I would need a general direction at least.¡± She spoke, as every Cam James had known did, with a lot more energy when she was being actively given a task. James nodded and closed his eyes, dipping forward into the sensation of being somewhere else, and of needing to go somewhere. A terrifying adventure ahead, but an adventure nonetheless, and one with some roads involved even. And from the depths of his thoughts, something hooked onto him and came back up as he opened his eyes; an orange mantle of feathers and eyes manifesting as Zhu woke up. ¡°Hey buddy.¡± James said. ¡°Good news.¡± ¡±You fucking liar.¡± Zhu challenged with thin humor. He could feel James¡¯ surface thoughts and mood, and knew that things were tense. ¡°What are you lying about?¡± ¡±Underburbs is doing something. And we need to stop it.¡± ¡±Ah.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers flattened against James¡¯ armor, some of them sinking through to tickle against his skin in a nervous fluttering. ¡°I¡­ I hate this place.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can.¡± The navigator whispered. ¡±It¡¯s-¡° Zhu cut him off. ¡±But I¡¯m going to try. Because I want to hurt it back.¡± Zhu¡¯s feathers splayed outward, his eyes twisting like he was scanning something in the air around them, the deep pools of his pupils flicking back and forth as they tracked things no human could see. Paths, maps, opportunities, obstacles, maybe even the future itself and certainly a little of the past too. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s¡­ easy. Five and a half miles that way, there¡¯s¡­ something. Oh there¡¯s a lot of problems getting there, but it¡¯s there¡­¡± ¡±Camille?¡± James prompted as he started walking, the other paladins trailing him as he approached the truck and checked the back; the bed was empty, which was perfect. The armored girl who looked human nodded once. ¡°Location unsecured by conventional military force, but there is a swarm around a valuable target. Fragile enough for me. Something is adding to the ranks. There are six guardians that I would have issue with. And one that will challenge our¡­ group. If it manages to spot us. It is inattentive.¡± She said the last word with a frown. ¡±Great. Get in the back, help Spire up. Alex, shotgun. Simon¡­¡± ¡±There¡¯s room in the back.¡± He said. ¡°If this Cam isn¡¯t going to murder me. She looks like she¡¯s going to try to murder me.¡± ¡±I will not.¡± Camille said, having heard him clearly despite the distance. Simon winced, closing his eyes but not reacting aside from that and a small sigh. And the silliness of the small moment actually did a lot of work in adding to how prepared they all felt. ¡°Are we going? Time is wasting.¡± James checked the messages on the local skulljack network; someone had moved fast and set up a relay here, and it was being used to organize things a lot faster than he could have done himself. There were police on the other side of their barricades, but the shield teams were so far doing a good job of impersonating the national guard and retasking the emergency responders to help contain the situation. No sign of the Long Arm of the Law, yet, which was probably good. There were also two alerts he was tagged in telling him that Sarah and the avatar choir was filtering in and setting up, so that was available as an option to himself and Spire. And also that the remaining mortar ammo that they had left after killing the worm thing in Montana was ready to go up to an effective range of about five miles. ¡±Ready as we¡¯re going to be.¡± James said, stepping up on the absurdly lifted truck and looking back at the Order¡¯s chaotic deployment one last time. He caught sight of Anesh, his boyfriend moving with purpose and directing people who looked like civilians from a nearby apartment building to clear the area. Anesh looked over his way, maybe sensing James¡¯ gaze, and James smiled behind his mask. It was a bit awkward with the protective gear in the way, but he mimed blowing Anesh a kiss, and saw his partner¡¯s shoulders relax a little as he shook his head in a moment of wry amusement while they both still had time. Then James dropped into the driver¡¯s seat, shoving his weapons around wherever they¡¯d fit and feeling way too clunky sitting here in his armor. The truck was still running from when Camille had scared off the driver, and so it wasn¡¯t like he had to do much except throw it in drive, share a grim look of determination with Alex, and hit the gas. The sooner they found and broke the anchor, the sooner they could stop whatever was creeping out. And going in first was what paladins like them were for. _____ James drove illegally fast for the mixed residential area, barely slowing down for stop signs as they headed toward the direction Zhu had indicated. There was no final spot on the map, but he had a feeling that they¡¯d know it when they saw it, and getting close enough would be a good start. They weren¡¯t alone on the road either. A few drivers that were going their direction honked or flipped off James¡¯ masterful driving skills, but after barely a mile, they passed the first sign of trouble. Two cop cars, lights still flaring blue and red painful enough to sting the eyes, sat abandoned on the side of the road. Doors hanging open, no sign of their drivers. Some kind of little hand cart sat on the cracked sidewalk, overturned and spilling bits of cloth everywhere. The silent scene had James slow, but not stop. It wasn¡¯t long before he had to slow again to navigate around where a car had slammed into a telephone pole outside a corner convenience store. A few other cars in the parking lot should have led to a few gawkers standing around or even trying to help, but there was no sign of anyone in the smoking vehicle, nor in the store itself. Alex¡¯s voice made James twitch, the rhythmic sound of the engine the only thing they¡¯d been listening to so far, with the car¡¯s thick windows blocking out any noise from outside. ¡°Update.¡± She said, closing her eyes. ¡°Want me to read it?¡± ¡±Go for it.¡± James said, grateful he didn¡¯t have to drive and use his skulljack at the same time. He was getting better at multitasking, but he wasn¡¯t comfortable with that yet. ¡°They were down here sweeping for the Underburbs again. Alice and Dance split off to go check out a construction site, while Charlie went to talk to a guy they¡¯d heard about. Uh¡­ lotta details, hang on.¡± Alex skimmed the slapped together report. ¡°Right. Charlie doesn¡¯t know what hit him, but he got a watcher notification, and got out of there. Wherever he was, it was already covered in the fog. He knows where Alice was supposed to be, so a team is heading there to look for where Dance got hurt.¡± Alex¡¯s voice tightened. She didn¡¯t know these people, but no one wanted to coldly read off reports about a comrade dying alone. James didn¡¯t really have anyone to pray to, but he silently hoped Dance would be alright. Camracondas were immune to what felt like half the Underburbs diseases anyway, so she¡¯d be fine. She had to be fine. But in trying to turn his thoughts away from that, he landed on something else. Equally grim, the idea hit him as he actually stopped to let a car fly past on a cross street. What if they had done this? Not specifically the scout team, but they were here on Order business. Was the Underburbs reacting to their search? Lashing out because of them? If a Camille was here that meant that it had obviously drawn attention, but the Order had been fucking around trying to find it so they could either delve the place or burn it to the ground, and it had been months. Ample time for the dungeon to try to fight back, and be noticed by a pillar. The question of what they did wrong, what they missed, lingered in James¡¯ mind as Alex read off other bits and pieces of reports from the mobilized Order behind them. A rogue had gotten into the local police, and was trying to get them to assist more coherently, but they were hesitant because there was no sign of any problem; the opposite in fact, zero emergency calls from the area. Which should have been a huge issue, but a slight statistical oddity wasn¡¯t enough to convince anyone, and that was probably reasonable, even if James did think the national guard should be moving tanks to the boundary. ¡°You awake?¡± Alex asked, snapping James back to the conversation. She¡¯d said something about knight numbers and James had been busy worrying if the Order was going to end the world. ¡±I¡¯m good.¡± James said tersely. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Kill the anchor, kick the dungeon back, repeatedly shoot whatever pillar is here in the knees. Easy.¡± Zhu fluttered against him, the navigator staying quiet but awake to conserve his energy, pressing his manifested body against James with a deep soothing pulse of orange light. ¡±Knees?¡± ¡±Don¡¯t ¡®kill¡¯ pillars.¡± James said, wondering if it would be morally wrong to ask Kiki if she could come help. Actually it would probably be the stupidest fucking idea possible, given that pillars were apparently unable to touch dungeons without some kind of unknown consequence. ¡°It makes them leak magic somehow.¡± ¡±Oh.¡± Alex said, looking out the back window of the pickup truck to check on the others. Spire-Cast-Behind was curled over the edge watching the right side, while Simon was sitting and gripping the left. Camille was just standing in the bed, and blocking James¡¯ rearview line of sight, and Alex almost smirked at her thought that Camilles were just like that until they got deprogrammed. Almost. ¡°Wait, is that why you¡¯re¡­ you know.¡± ¡±Me?¡± James asked. ¡±Yeah, you-¡° Alex cut off with a wet choke as James whipped the truck¡¯s wheel to the right, the fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror swaying as he angled the car and slammed the gas pedal down. Zhu¡¯s own noise of surprise was like a revved caw as James accelerated. God he hoped the Violet could hold on when he did this, because he didn¡¯t have enough time to call anything except a general alert to his skulljacked squad. James only barely noticed what was going on because his brain literally worked faster than it should, and he didn¡¯t hesitate to divert from their objective to do what he felt needed to be done. The front bumper of the pickup truck came within inches of murdering the man running down the unmaintained asphalt of the cross street. Ignoring the stop sign, ignoring the road itself, James whipped past the terrified and bleeding human at fifty miles an hour. He did not miss the black quadruped chasing him; his eyes processing just enough to get the impression that it was furry, the size of a great dane, and that it¡¯s head was just a black mass with a conical depression in it, similar to all the spiral divots that ran up its back and flank. It made a sound like stereo feedback for a brief moment, loud enough that it pierced through the truck¡¯s comfortable cab. Then it was dead, the truck barely bouncing as James flattened it and then slid the wheel in his hands to put them back on the street, its pristine white paint job now sporting a smear and a ding. He missed his target by a few inches, annihilating the right side wing mirror on a wooden telephone pole that looked like it had weathered worse than this apocalypse and was unimpressed with James vehicular assault. Behind them, the smear of black blood from the mangled corpse that tumbled out behind the wheels painted the sidewalk as the man who¡¯d been running dropped to his knees and vomited into a storm drain. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] ¡±Oh god. Was that-¡° Alex craned her neck to look behind them, the other three still secure in the pickup¡¯s bed. ¡±We can¡¯t stop.¡± James said. ¡°If he¡¯s just panicking, maybe he¡¯ll be okay, but we can¡¯t risk him being infected with something. Not now.¡± He felt sick, and not because he¡¯d just killed an Underburbs creature. James was all for giving dungeon life a chance. The Order as a whole had cut down how much actual hunting they did in the dungeons, and they could make room for anyone who could play nice. But the Underburbs? He didn¡¯t think anything here would be asking to parlay anytime soon. ¡°Everyone okay back there?¡± Alex¡¯s yell accompanied her opening the little flap of a window between the cab and the bed and letting in more sound from outside. Simon replied with something that James didn¡¯t hear, but that made Alex give a surprised laugh. Under normal circumstances James would have liked that energy, but the Underburbs were a sore spot for him, so he just let them have their moment while he kept driving. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. The laugh was short though, and the angry spitting of the pickup truck¡¯s engine took over again for a few blocks until an oncoming car started flashing its lights and honking at James. He slowed, rolling down the window, as the driver of the minivan did the same; a pudgy woman¡¯s wide eyed and flushed face greeting him. ¡°Turn around!¡± She screamed. ¡°Don¡¯t go that way! Turn around!¡± ¡±Head that way!¡± James called, pointing back where he¡¯d come from. ¡°Straight line, you¡¯ll run into people who can help you!¡± She looked at him like he was crazy, before jerking back from the window and speeding off, her minivan lurching forward. ¡°Hope she¡¯ll be okay.¡± Zhu mumbled lightly. ¡±Same.¡± James added weakly. They got another block before he wanted to hit the brakes again; rolling past the turn for a neighborhood and seeing a garage door that had been hit by something hard enough to crater it. That could just be someone backing into it though, he¡¯d only been driving in this city for five minutes and he already didn¡¯t trust anyone else in a car here. James almost voiced the joke, but stopped when a metallic clack made him jump. It came again a moment later, and then again, rhythmic and steady. Outside the vehicle, nothing changed exactly. And James couldn¡¯t feel any difference. But the small device that he¡¯d been handed and told was a dungeon detector was, currently, detecting a dungeon. They were in the Underburbs. ¡±It¡¯s getting dark ahead.¡± Alex pointed out, but James had already seen it. It might be evening in October, but it wasn¡¯t night here yet. However, the fading daylight was completely gone from the next street onward. At least as far as they could see. A wall of dark that was split only by defiant streetlights and the muffled glow from some of the nearby windows. ¡±Everyone hang on tight.¡± James said as he flicked on the high beams and washing away the gloom ahead. He¡¯d never been so glad for the existence of painfully overpowered truck headlights in his life. But then his eyes flicked to the odometer for a moment. ¡°Three miles. This is gonna get slower. Shit.¡± ¡±No new Route spells I don¡¯t know about? Please?¡± Alex gave him an expectant look. ¡°Some kind of deus ex mechanical?¡± ¡±Wow, okay, that¡¯s really good, write that down.¡± James worked on smiling as he kept his eyes sharp; both of them enhanced in different ways, but amusingly, the one that was just a normal Earth-evolved eye doing the better job of seeing through the darkness. When they hit the line where the light ended, it felt like the dungeon swallowed them up. And for a moment, James and Zhu shivered in unison as they were plunged back into the favored environment of the Underburbs. The light from the truck wasn¡¯t impeded though; just because the dungeon was making things darker didn¡¯t mean it was strong enough out here to supernaturally ruin headlights. And so far, there wasn¡¯t anything hostile except one pancaked dungeon creation. So driving was really more like just rolling down the street late at night, rather than a high speed incursion into dungeon territory. James frowned, hands wringing the wheel. ¡°T coming up. Zhu?¡± ¡±Right.¡± ¡±¡­As in turn right?¡± ¡±Yes.¡± The navigator¡¯s voice was far from his normal sound of tires on gravel. He was tired, and he was nervous, and he was angry. And he needed James to turn right and stop asking questions. So James turned right, and then slammed the brakes hard enough that someone thumped into the back window of the truck. Coming nose to nose with another vehicle was enough to make him jerk in surprise, but the other car being on its side didn¡¯t bode well at all. It looked like it had been t-boned and just left there. No sign of motion from the vehicle, and the back door was sticking up in the air like someone had climbed out. ¡±Fuck.¡± James maneuvered around it. The dungeon was here, now, and he had the instinctive feeling that they did not have time to stop to check for people to help. He hated it. He wanted to help everyone. But right now, if they didn¡¯t keep moving, there wouldn¡¯t be an everyone left surviving to help. It did help that Alex tagged their location and sent it back to the others. There were already knight teams moving into the rough quarantine zone, starting a rapid evacuation of the outside edge. She checked their group channels and saw multiple instances of people fighting Underburbs creatures, and a few of knights getting shot at by locals who were on edge from the nearby chaos. She kept quiet about it; they couldn¡¯t do anything. Instead, she fidgeted with the fireball gun. In the back, Simon and Spire-Cast-Behind kept their collective eyes out on the truck¡¯s flanks, watching houses and sometimes small businesses roll by. The street was lined with parked cars and RVs, or sometimes a dumpster. The human kept the barrel of his gun aimed low, but outward, and the camraconda just watched and saved the battery on her arms. Neither of them talked to the Camille, because what did you say in this situation. They stopped one more time a mile further in to give directions to a confused looking family on foot. The parents had hardened up as soon as James said ¡®quarantine¡¯, but when he told them they weren¡¯t with the government and that they were also heavily armed, it seemed to make the dad a lot more comfortable taking all his kids to the Order checkpoint. James didn¡¯t have time to be annoyed, he¡¯d take it. The worst part, as they got closer and closer, was that things got worse. Not just feeling more like a dungeon, but not a street went by where there wasn¡¯t at least one car with the doors ripped open and bloodstains or bodies. People shouted for help from the windows, one small apartment complex looked like they¡¯d tried to use cars to form a barricade that hadn¡¯t worked, and the smell of smoke and the flickering orange of nearby structure fires joined the ambiance. And there was dungeon life now. Quadruped forms with spiral divots or bulbous distensions, eyes glowing in the headlights before they flung themselves back into the shadows. Nothing that challenged the paladins and their guest, but they were out there. Lurking. Until the house, that is. It was the same kind of single story ranch house as everything else in the neighborhood they were passing through. But there was a car idling in the driveway, and a man half standing out of the driver¡¯s side door, screaming and waving to the people struggling to get out from the house¡¯s front door to hurry up. The moving pale shapes creeping around the building homing in rapidly with hungry intent. Simon¡¯s hand hitting the roof made James set his mouth in a line. Next to him, Alex shot him a look. ¡°Come on, we can¡¯t¡­¡± He sighed, and stopped the truck as smoothly as he could just past their driveway. ¡°Here.¡± He struggled out of the chest strap for his rifle and handed it to Alex, calling back behind to the others. ¡°Stay in the truck, cover them!¡± ¡°This will alert-¡° Camille¡¯s attempt to warn them stopped as Alex pulled herself into a kneeling position on the passenger seat and started shooting at the left side of the house. Her aim wasn¡¯t the best, but it really only took a single one of the .308 rounds to pop open one of the bulbous dog-things with their skin like bad upholstery. From the bed of the truck, Simon yelled for the people to move, to get in the car and drive like hell, but of the two people leaving the house one of them was very old and being helped along frantically by someone that was maybe her granddaughter or maybe her in-home nurse. Walkers and oxygen tanks weren¡¯t good for speed, exactly, and Simon added his own gunfire to the mix as the people they were saving started screaming louder while he and Spire did a more proficient job of locking down and eliminating the closest targets, leaving Alex to suppress her side of the house. By the time the rifle clicked empty, a whole pack of the dog things was forming and starting to move at them, and she started frantically looking for a reload before James triggered the bracelet¡¯s ability. Sixteen charges of that left, but this seemed like a good time for it. It was only seconds, but it felt like an hour before the two made it to the car and the younger woman practically shoved the elder into the back seat. James heard Simon yelling directions, but the other driver was already speeding out of his driveway and down the street. And that left all the things around here focused on them. ¡±Well, we¡¯re nearby at least.¡± James tried to be enthusiastic as he set them in motion. Fast. Simon kept firing as the quadrupedal horde started converging on the pickup. A thump nearly made his heart stop as something hit his driver¡¯s side door, and James snarled in abrupt anger as he pulled to the left and nearly sent Alex out of the window she was firing through. Another thump, this one with an associated crunch from under the tires, got him a satisfying conclusion. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] ¡±Almost there.¡± Zhu said as they blew past a gas station that had a burning puddle in the middle of its concrete lot. The truck wasn¡¯t the only source of light now. Fire and also the mist that they were now cutting through, all of it was creating a canvas of eye strain. Dark, light, dark, light. Flickers of motion and the bark of gunfire marking threats as they rushed the moving vehicle. Most of them fell behind because James was just trusting his enhanced reflexes and Zhus guidance at this point, but sometimes things would rush the side of the car and Alex would shoot it or he¡¯d dodge it. Or run it down. ¡±Oh fuck!¡± Alex laughed hysterically from next to him, turning to look at James with wide eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a school!¡± ¡±What?!¡± ¡±There¡¯s only one thing on the map in this direction! It¡¯s a school!¡± ¡±My academic career is never going to recover from this!¡± James said at the same time that another thump hit the roof of the truck. An armored hand roughly grabbed and then snapped off the small window to the truck¡¯s bed. ¡°Guardian!¡± Camille¡¯s voice sounded. ¡°Ahead, closing! It knows we are here for it!¡± ¡±What kind of-¡° A power cable, sparking and fizzing, slapped down onto the street in front of them, and James¡¯ skill had him almost instantly pulling the handbrake and bringin the truck into a slide that stopped them parallel and just shy of hitting the downed line. Except¡­ ¡°There¡¯s no pole!¡± He yelled as motion in the darkness ahead of them stirred. ¡°Alex, out!¡± The driver¡¯s door was fortunately not too dented, and opened smoothly as James leapt from the truck just before another power line came down on it. The metal cable whistled as it carved through the air, and hit the pickup with a bang as it shattered the windshield and crushed a line into the vehicle, shards of glass and plastic spraying out from the impact. At least the others had already gotten clear, but when James followed the cable backward, he could just make out the shape it had come from. It was a tangled ball twenty feet across, and it was hovering in the air over a two story home that was currently getting scorch marks from the blue crackle of electricity that came from dangling power lines just like the ones it was whipping at them. It was hard to tell if it was looking at them, because the mist didn¡¯t reach that high, but James felt like he could see liquid pools on its surface that might be eyes. A gout of fire formed and spat from the other side of the truck as Alex started shooting, while James got his feet and dashed around the back to find the others. Zhu¡¯s claw pointed into the dark, mirroring the dotted line he was showing James, and the human relayed the navigator¡¯s instructions. ¡°That way. Close.¡± ¡±It is indoors.¡± Camille said with clear displeasure. ¡°And there is open occupied ground between us and the target.¡± James started to reply when Alex ran past them, ¡°Move!¡± She shouted, grabbing Simon¡¯s arm and pulling him along, as one of the power line tentacles jerked, wrapped around the pickup, and lifted the whole multi-ton vehicle off the ground by a foot before flicking it in their direction. Twisting and planting his feet, James spread his arms in a posture that felt wrong for defending but was intentional to make sure his limbs didn¡¯t sink into the oncoming projectile, and then called up his Breath. Mountain of the Self, for just a couple seconds, let the car hit him, crash back to the pavement, and roll to a stop, with only a scattering of glass, metal fragments, and whatever was in the toolboxes in the back, flying past him and threatening his companions. ¡°Move!¡± James repeated what Alex had said as he threw himself sideways to dodge a crackling strike, coming up from the roll that left bits of broken glass in his hair and catching the rifle Alex threw his way and adding bullets to the fireballs she was spraying into the thing¡¯s form. It died almost anticlimactically. One fireball punching through enough of it that it couldn¡¯t keep going, and then the arm-thick cords just unwound and poured to the ground, some kind of fumes billowing out of the corpse in the light of the nearby flames. [Killer - Abyssal: +10 Skill Points] ¡°Die, powerball!¡± Alex yelled in triumph as James shouldered his rifle and turned to run past her, catching up to the others who were moving way too fast though the dark toward what seemed like an open athletic field. The smell of wet grass overwhelmed by the smell of urine and blood. Camille was leading them, but Simon and Spire-Cast-Behind were only lagging because the duo had been snapped at by a translucent set of teeth dangling from a dead streetlight, the camraconda freezing it at the last second while Simon just kicked the hollow metal pole over and sent it clattering to the sidewalk. Legs pumped as James ascended the dirt and barkdust slope, stopping with the others by a chain link fence. ¡°Anyone see what¡¯s out there?¡± He asked, staring into the pitch blackness past the dimly illuminated metal fence. ¡±Problems.¡± Zhu said. At the same time, Camille shook her head, but answered in a very low tone, ¡°Interceptors.¡± She cocked her head, a small flicker in her eyes barely visible in the darkness. ¡°The other guardians are alerted, but closing slowly.¡± ¡±Great.¡± James nodded, and made a call through his skulljack, waving everyone to get back down to the bottom of the hill. A voice that was clearly using humor to stave off how grim things looked answered. ¡°Express artillery, you denote it we explode it, what can I do for ya?¡± ¡±Hey Myles.¡± James¡¯ mouth quirked upward as he answered without speaking. ¡°Got a target for you.¡± He double checked their current gps coordinates, glad that the dungeon was ¡®out in the open¡¯ so to speak, and didn¡¯t seem to be messing with either that or their phones. Verifying where he wanted the explosions to go, James took a breath and relayed the target, wishing that he was the one doing the firing so he could put a little more confidence on the accuracy. ¡°Use three shots. Thanks Myles.¡± He said, before speaking up out loud. ¡°Everyone set at least one bracer to¡­ uh¡­ M934 High Explosive 120mm. Cam, get cl- sorry, Camille, if you want an extra layer of protection, stay in the middle of us.¡± ¡±¡­You are far too casual with me.¡± The armored woman said. But she still shifted back into the middle of the others. ¡±I used to hear that a lot.¡± James nodded. ¡°We can talk later. As soon as the second shot hits, we move.¡± ¡±I¡¯ll get the fence.¡± Simon offered, hand wringing on the grip of the sledgehammer he was carrying. James gave him a pat on his armor¡¯s shoulder. ¡±Thanks. When we get in, you and Cam find and demolish the thing. We¡¯ll cover you. Spire, you think you can make this run?¡± ¡±Yes. I have been equipping several spells.¡± The camraconda answered flatly. ¡°And I-¡° her voice faltered into a burst of feedback. ¡°-I do not feel well. Ah.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind pivoted her head around to sweep the darkness, the only light coming from Zhu¡¯s glow, the flashlights on their chest armor, and the fire behind them. ¡°I will keep up. And then you can get me to Deb to solve whatever new problem this is.¡± ¡±Got it.¡± James said, opening up another call. ¡°Hey Sarah. Sorry to bother you, I know you¡¯re probably really busy-¡° ¡±Shut up dummy.¡± His friend didn¡¯t sound like she was having fun. ¡°Avatar time?¡± ¡±Please.¡± James said as he looked up into the starry sky. Spire also looked up. ¡°I hear a whistling.¡± ¡±Relax your jaws.¡± James offered the group advice as Sarah started humming in his ear, and a network of channels opened up to him. The first shell hit ahead of them by about fifty meters, and the night lit up like an inferno. If they hadn¡¯t put themselves at a lower elevation, then James knew they would have been at serious risk of losing shield charges to either the explosion itself, or the shrapnel from whatever it hit. The other paladins flattened themselves to the ground in something close to panic, while he stayed in a crouch and Camille just stood in her normal impassive resting stance. He couldn¡¯t hear anything, except Sarah¡¯s voice in his head, but he could see the message from the artillery crew about confirmed kills. Which was a good thing to know about this stupid dungeon. Then the second shell hit, and another wave of sound and pressure slapped across them. The third one was off target on the far side of the building they were heading toward, but the light from its blast showed off the silhouette of the school, the covered recess area outside, and a small stretch of trees on the far side that had been undeveloped land and were now shredded and burning. James started running forward up the slope, and the others followed. Simon hit the fence with some blue effect that shifted it around to let them through, and their group started a steady pace across the wet grass that had bits of burning material strewn across it to mess with their night vision. They didn¡¯t get to any monster corpses before something came into view in the beams of their lights. It was a human child, crouched down with hands pulling at the grass, red shirt in tatters. Screaming, screaming so loud that it was audible even over the temporary deafening from the nearby explosions. James shot it in the chest, a burst of gore coming out from the crater the high caliber round put in it. A spike of guilt and shame infiltrating his thoughts just as the smell of ammonia and blood leaked into his nose. Then they were running past the body, and the oblong grey head and mouth full of fangs made it clear that feeling was artificial. His instinctive reaction had overridden the facade the creature put up. Which was good, because while the field had been swept by the mortar team, there were a lot more of these things. The scream rose from all around them, a fragmented wall of sound that bypassed ears and went straight for the brain. Alex and Spire both recoiled as their authorities struggled to fend off a parallel infection, and James started firing into the dark. It wasn¡¯t hard. They were small, but they weren¡¯t expecting to be targeted, so his Aim let him pinpoint and drop them one after another. He drew on his link with Sarah for focus, steadiness, finesse, even hydration as his mouth got dry. And with every footfall in their jog, he put another bullet out into the artificial night toward one of the sources of the scream that were making themselves so easy to target. When he ran out of bullets, he reloaded with the bracer. When that ran out, he switched to his pistol. On the other side of the group, Spire played a similar sharpshooter role, crossbows firing and reloading in sequence as she digitally pointed at things she wanted dead. The camraconda kept up with repeated casts of Move Person and Appointed Arrival, flickering into existence near the group and planting herself to fire over and over before falling behind and then repeating the process. A group of the child things rushed them out of the dark just before they got near where James estimated the covered recess courtyard was, five screaming faces with circular mouths full of slimy teeth. Camille just whipped her mace sideways, acting aggressively for the first time, and removing the threat; the first one was simply bisected by the hit, while the next was caved inward and then flung into the other three before the Last Line¡¯s daughter abruptly stopped her swing and let them all tumble away. Simon hit one with a Pave on the way, its skull bursting open like a ripe melon and spraying grey sludge outward. They passed a concrete cylinder with a metal pole coming out of it, the edge of the overhang, and one of the child things leapt at James screaming. He cast on reflex, two spells in unison; Pave to arrest its motion, Frost Vector to keep him moving as he sighted with his pistol and put two new holes in the creature. Alex fired a single fireball back behind them, the clack of the gun swallowed by the screams, the red plasma orb lighting up the scene as it charred flesh and bone from the swarm that was after them. It lit up enough of the scene to see at least two hundred of the grey figures in their scraps of red clothing, predatory eyes dilating against the sudden burst of light as they rushed the team on all fours, mouths open in psychic screams. The first door to the school they found was a teacher¡¯s entrance, a flat metal door with a keycard reader and not even a handle. Before James could try anything, Simon punched it on the edge hard enough to leave a dent, his authority wrapping his hand in green spectral cloth before a thin blue afterimage indicated his use of an Office effect and he smoothly pulled the door open. ¡°Go!¡± He said, holding the door as the swarm closed in despite Alex¡¯s attempts to annihilate as many of them per shot as possible. Spire went first, then Alex, then Camille. Simon yanked his hand out of the indented metal with a spray of his own blood before following, while James brought up the rear. It felt so effortless. Like the false children throwing themselves at him were made of paper. He drew on strength and vigor, speed and precision. The collective might of thirty benefactors sitting five miles away from them and lending their power to one singular person. Zhu¡¯s talons pierced through an eye socket and held one off while James grabbed a bony arm from the other side and snapped it in his grip before using it to swing its owner like a club into two more. One dove for his legs and he pivoted by exactly the right distance before kicking forward and snapping its neck. Another replaced it, and James just repeated the gesture, breaking ribs before a more focused strike caved in its skull. Over and over; they tried to overwhelm the duo with numbers and it didn¡¯t work. James called up another arm, and then a second, icy limbs with claws of his own waving with enough sharp force to slice through flesh like it was soft butter. But the bestial children didn¡¯t stop. They didn¡¯t care about how many of them died. They didn¡¯t care about anything, except sinking their dripping fangs into James. One of them wriggled out of Zhu¡¯s grip and did exactly that, teeth threatening to pierce the armor they skittered across, only to be stopped by the pure chime of one of Kiki¡¯s charms shattering. Another wrapped arms around James¡¯ plate armored leg, holding on even as it died and weighing him down. ¡±Come on!¡± A voice behind him shouted, and James realized he was wasting time. He¡¯d built a wall of bodies up to his chest, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Even like this, they¡¯d just bury him before he got them all. So he slammed the last one against the door, throwing himself backward to crush the one trying to climb his back with a pained squeal before he wriggled to the side and hit it in the head with his elbow until it was silent. Simon slammed the door, Camille holding it shut as a series of steady thuds and feral pressure came from the other side. [Killer - Shallow : +2 Skill Points] The intrusive message repeated in James mind. It repeated thirty six times. He didn¡¯t know how many actual kills equated to a ¡®shallow¡¯ rate, but it was at least three. ¡±Haaaaah.¡± Zhu made a noise like a rumbling exhale. ¡°So close.¡± ¡±Camille, hold the door.¡± James ordered, putting force in his voice that she wouldn¡¯t question him. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Zhu, directions.¡± Orange lines lit up James¡¯ vision, and he rose to take a step away from the spreading puddle of piss-scented blood coming from the child corpse. The school had its lights on, fluorescent bars overhead making the group¡¯s motion down the hallways and letting them move a lot more confidently than they had been when running across the cratered and occupied field. The building was pretty big, probably meant for a lot of grade school students and their teachers, but it wasn¡¯t like anything would be too far away from a group moving at a jog through its halls. But as they ran, it quickly became clear the building had not been empty when this had started. Bodies of mostly adults but a few children as well were dragged into corners or by walls. Red marks on their fallen forms showing where things had been, if not eating them, then at least ripping pieces off. Trails of smeared red also marked where bodies had been moved, dragged across the smooth tile of the halls and away into different parts of the building. It was horrid. It was disgusting. It was also going to be impossible to fix, not with the Order¡¯s resources. But at least they could stop the spread. Rounding a corner, Zhu kept his feathers splayed out in a vivid orange array around James as the navigator pointed them forward. But a child¡¯s scream and an adult man¡¯s defiant shout drew their attention to the other side of the staircase up to the second floor that they were aiming for. Something had just ripped away the door to a janitor¡¯s supply closet. None of them had noticed it because when it wasn¡¯t moving, it looked like it was just part of the structure. Blocky flesh that stuck out from a barrel body covered in mouths. No head to speak of, just multiple eight foot long drywall arms that were in the process of throwing aside the locked door the survivors were hiding behind and reaching forward. ¡°Get away!¡± The man who was probably one of the school¡¯s janitors was one of those people James would hire in a heartbeat. As soon as the door was down, he was swinging a shovel at the invading creature, putting himself between the kids he¡¯d hidden in the back of the room and the monster. Maybe he didn¡¯t expect a literal monster, but it didn¡¯t change the courage. It also didn¡¯t help. His shovel hit the protruding brick of the thing¡¯s body just over the largest mouth it had, and clanged off. The man¡¯s grip stayed firm and he tried to hit one of the hands, but he was too slow, and a second later, as James was four steps up the stairs, it lifted the struggling and shouting janitor up to that long toothy gash. A tongue slipped out and licked the side of the now panicked man¡¯s face, before the dungeon life spoke. ¡±Too. Old.¡± It said, sounding like a disappointed child only with a deep bassy voice that hurt to listen to. ¡°Need young.¡± It raised a hand to hit the captive human. All that happened in a moment. And in that moment, James made a quick call to split their forces. ¡°Alex! Kill!¡± He barked the order. And the paladin moved. Static electricity filling the air as she pulled on her own new magic, Alex¡¯s limbs and reflexes amped up to an extreme that was well past what even James could manage with the avatar thing. It cost, and it wasn¡¯t renewable as far as James knew, but it got the job done. In a flicker, Alex was standing on top of the monster, her new razor sharp rapier in her grip. Then she vanished again for a second, and two of the monster¡¯s arms dropped limp to its side, one arm just falling off. The squat little legs keeping it up snapping as Alex probably just tapped them at high speed. She even caught the janitor as he fell from the slack grip. ¡°Keep moving!¡± James told the others as they vaulted up the stairs, curving around on the landing, proceeding to the second floor and getting closer and closer to the target. ¡°It¡¯s always¡­ schools.¡± He panted as they ran down the hall toward a computer lab. ¡°Why can¡¯t we¡­ do this¡­ in a fucking¡­ Wal Mart?¡± ¡±You¡¯re going to regret saying that within a year.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind warned him, her own voice stable again and unaffected by her physical exertion. ¡°Oh. Incoming, left side.¡± The statement was casual, but she¡¯d made a mistake. The thing they all turned to look at, pressed up against the window of an art class, was one of those static blurs in the shape of a person. Simon was suddenly standing right next to the window, staring at it with the same blank look James felt he had himself. Then he was at the window, while Camille shifted forward a foot herself. James understood something was wrong, but his brain wasn¡¯t working right. He could feel something trying to pull Zhu away, and he and the navigator were both abruptly trying to hold on to each other mentally, with no clear idea of what was happening. Only the vague impression that, one at a time, everyone was being pulled bit by bit toward that window. But then Simon just stopped. ¡°I think not.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said bluntly. James didn¡¯t see her, for some reason, but he was glad the camraconda was on it. Whatever it was. When the temperature of the air dropped, and the human shaped black and white figure suddenly twitched repeatedly, James¡¯ thoughts were abruptly his own again. The creature on the other side of the window opened its mouth in a silent wail, but the fuzzy white of its insides that it showed off were rapidly becoming its outsides as gashes appeared across its body and it leaked liquid static onto the floor. It dropped, and everyone collectively shifted posture as control of their bodies was returned to them fully. ¡°Spire?!¡± James asked, whipping his head around to look for the camraconda. She was on their link, but nowhere to be seen. She reappeared at his elbow, earring¡¯s glint fading as she did. ¡°Keep moving.¡± She repeated. The computer lab was in ruins, tables overturned and monitors smashed. Both the classrooms past it had their doors broken open, the padded rolling wall between them bent out of position and stuck in place among the strewn papers and backpacks. But those doors weren¡¯t their destination. As Simon nearly tripped over a power cable stretched across the floor and Cam just bulldozed through it, James led their group to the door to the roof access. It was already open, though more intact than most of the doors they¡¯d seen so far. Beyond it, an undecorated concrete room with metal steps that looked like a cheese grater led upward. ¡±Threat.¡± Camille said flatly as she stared up the stairwell. ¡±What?¡± Even borrowing hearing and reaction and attention and grace from several people, James still felt like he had misheard her. When a human figure slammed into the Camlle¡¯s armored chest in a drop kick, sending both her and her assailant skidding back across the floor through the wrecked technology, he figured out what she¡¯d meant. Camille struck back, her mace slamming into the man¡¯s head twice before he stomped on her arm and kicked the weapon aside. Both of them rolled, fists darting to impact each other with enough force to make sharp cracks in the air. ¡±He isn¡¯t stopping!¡± Spire informed them as she locked onto the figure. James had his pistol out and was putting bullets into the man, but his Aim faltered after the first burst when the bullets failed to connect with the figure¡¯s back. ¡±Simon, stairs! Break it!¡± Simon sprinted past James with the weightless sledgehammer held ready, boosted up the steps by a use of Move Person from Zhu as James and Spire closed ranks to screen against the person who was currently hitting a Camille hard enough to dent her armor. No, not dent. His fists were leaving rust behind. Pitted red-brown marks across her plate mail. ¡±Keep slowing him.¡± James told Spire through the link. And then he slapped the side of his mask to vent a potion into his air supply, and went to be a distraction. Appointed Arrival was a lot easier to use than Move Person. He just took a step, and was between Camille and the attacker. It was human, he realized as he slapped his palms on the man¡¯s ears with a powerful clap. This was just a guy. Unless it was a dungeon life like Ben or the Utah shifters, but it didn¡¯t really matter. The man was thin to the point of being emaciated, had a braided beard countermanded by unkempt sideburns, and sunken wild eyes like he¡¯d spent the last decade in search of the purest possible meth he could get. He was also grinning, a gap toothed smile that seemed genuinely sincere. He was loving this fight. Maybe not the whole situation, but as James jammed a fist into his nose and then started ducking return blows, the dude was loving what was going on. Camille backed away from the fight, circling but being kept in the enemy¡¯s sight as he pressured James to circle too. But James was proving to be a lot harder to hit than Cam was; he didn¡¯t rely on his armor to survive, he relied on magical coffee, precise martial arts skills, Zhu¡¯s dodging instincts, and borrowed swiftness from a lot of people who were going to be feeling woozy for the next couple days. He could see his target getting frustrated when he slipped past a spin kick without even being touched. Which was good because it meant that the other human - they must be a delver - was focused fully on James. Exactly where he needed them. Because so far, only one thing had actually hurt him. Cam¡¯s awkward and pulled strike from her mace had left a bleeding mark on his head. So James maneuvered him into position where Cam could take another swing. Though that was only his first plan. He had a backup, relayed through the skulljack link, just in case. From upstairs, there was a scream of metal warping and then the crash of a heavy object falling off a roof. The assailant¡¯s smile turned into a snarl in an instant, his head turning toward the stairs and the camraconda between them. He got one step before Camille took the opening and swung a wide arc of her mace at his head again. This time, he caught it in one hand, rust creeping up the weapon and sending flecks of red metal spilling to the ground in a dusty stream. His other hand grabbed the Camille¡¯s face, and James could see a similar rust-red spreading from his fingers as she struggled to pull back. He tried shooting the man again, and succeeded in at least getting his attention as he dropped Camille and rounded on James, the smile competing with an annoyed growl. His looked seemed to ask if James had any idea how annoying that was, as he sprung forward to try to stop the dodging with a bear hug that was sure to kill James quickly if he let the man¡¯s magical skin make contact with him. Which was when Alex, having cleared her problem and caught up, stabbed through James¡¯ chest and into the man¡¯s heart. James grinned back at the faltering expression on the attacker¡¯s face as he looked down at the sword pierced through him. Spreading his hands and stepping backward, James let the incorporeality potion he¡¯d been breathing the whole time do its job as he phased through Alex, who stood pinning their enemy with her blade. ¡°Gotcha.¡± James said quietly. It had been hard to keep from being touched long enough to keep the deception up, but it had worked. Then while he was distracted Simon hit him in the head. Leverage, the sledgehammer¡¯s selective weightlessness, and Simon''s own strength pumped up to an absurd degree by the cold fury he¡¯d been cultivating through this entire incursion, all coming together to make his strike a lot harder than even Camille¡¯s best. Whatever the other delver was prepared to survive, having his head pasted half in flat and ripped from his shoulders with a wet snapping wasn¡¯t on the list. ¡±Try it now.¡± Simon sent over the link, his previous attempt to dispel the dungeon on the roof not having worked. James held a hand out in front of himself, palm down and fingers spread, the gesture seeming somehow appropriate even though he wasn¡¯t sure if it actually mattered. Zhu¡¯s talons overlaying his own armored flesh as James intoned. ¡°We claim this territory in the name of the Order of Endless Rooms. You. Are. Not. Welcome.¡± Silence greeted him. After a long pause, Alex stopped staring at the human corpse on the floor, and looked up at James. ¡°Did it¡­ work?¡± He fished the dungeon detector out of his armor. ¡°No clicking.¡± He said. ¡°Which means either yes, or I sat on this wrong and broke it.¡± No, wait, there was an easier way to check. He tapped into the Order¡¯s network, getting updates in real time. Overhead observation, which was still risky but being done anyway, showed that the imposed darkness was gone. The light-mist was still lingering, but spreading outward from what looked like a shockwave from the central point where they¡¯d killed the anchor. Lots of movement, but it was all heading away from them; spotters were tracking two more of the giant powerball creatures floating away from the affected area, with a third one having dropped and seemingly died without the dungeon to sustain it. Which was great. Of course, the great news stopped there. Because they weren¡¯t floating back to the dungeon. Or, they were, but they didn¡¯t have that far to go. The anchor had claimed several square miles around itself. And in the direction of the Order¡¯s perimeter, there was no dungeon left. But on the other side¡­ The Underburbs life forms were fleeing back into the dark. Back into the dungeon. Back across the boundary line where more of Earth had been claimed by the dungeon and its minions. At least, as the Underburbs was kicked out of this sliver of his world, James got one last gift from the shit dungeon. [Intruder - Aphotic : +23 Skill Points] ¡°What¡­ what now?¡± Simon asked, his arms feeling like jelly as his strength left him. Anger replaced by hollow despair as the reality of the situation came into focus. ¡°¡­I killed a guy¡­¡± ¡±¡­we could¡­ we could maybe¡­¡± Alex looked around at the others, almost raising a hand to her face before realizing her glove was sopping wet with blood and other liquids, and there was no way she should remove her mask in these conditions. ¡±Is this new?¡± Spire-Cast-Behind asked. ¡°Is this normal? What is it doing. We have to kill it. We need larger weapons. What do we do. Oh no, what do we do?¡± The camraconda¡¯s mechanical arm pack folded in on her back as she slithered over to the fallen delver. ¡°What was this one doing. He betrayed his world. Why. Why.¡± ¡±All good questions.¡± James said, glancing Camille¡¯s way and sucking in a harsh breath as he saw that she had dropped to her knees and was clearly trying to manage an extreme level of pain. ¡°Which we can answer from our front line. Pendragon is inbound, and we¡¯re getting out of here. Alex, grab that guy¡¯s loot drop.¡± He pointed to where a chunky barbed crystal had fallen from the corpse and into the pool of blood spreading across the thin carpet. ¡°Let¡¯s get to the roof and we can figure out our next move when we¡¯ve had a chance to get hosed down.¡± He winced as he watched Camille pull a strip of skin off her face and flick it away. ¡°And get some medical attention.¡± James added. Alex was also looking at Camille, and her own hands too. ¡°Is it even safe for us to touch Pen like this?¡± She asked. ¡±Medical authority onboard.¡± Simon answered. ¡°She¡¯ll be¡­ I mean, she won¡¯t be screwed.¡± He tapped his own breathing mask, venting exercise potion into his breath to alleviate the exhaustion he was feeling. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to do this again.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. And it also wasn¡¯t wrong. But at least, right now, they¡¯d stopped one. Whether that would be enough to matter, they¡¯d have to figure out real fast. Chapter 314 ¡°As long as you have problems, you''re still fighting.¡± -Cameron Lauder- _____ Pendragon touched down in the parking lot of a Wal Mart, instantly setting James¡¯ teeth on edge. It was a joke, I swear. He tried to think at the universe as hard as possible. He deliberately avoided thinking about how they weren¡¯t here at the corporate box store to get in a fight, instead just focusing on keeping his stomach from turning over as Dave and Pendragon lurched the last three feet to the ground and ended one of the most aggressive extraction flights James had ever experienced with the two. And that was saying something, because he¡¯d been in Pendragon when she was taking machine gun fire once. But they were on something of a time limit. As the aluminum and indestructible paper scales that separated the little seating pod inside Pendragon¡¯s flank from the outside world fanned open, James hopped out and hit the pavement on unsteady feet. He wobbled partly from the adrenaline crash he was still handling, and partly because he was nauseous from Dave¡¯s flying. The mentally fused Dave and Pendragon didn¡¯t even give them some kind of jaunty sign off as the passengers left. Instead, as a trio of medics in protective gear rushed to help the struggling Camille onto a gurney, Pendragon ambled forward and then flattened her body back to the ground. Paper wings raised upward to give access to her passenger pods, long neck stretched out to look down on the people around her as a rescue team ran to take the place of James and the others. The people about to take off included Alanna. And James felt his throat catch as he watched the woman grab the edge of the Pendragon¡¯s aluminum scales with both hands, her armored head with the custom fitted potion mask turning to spy James and meet her boyfriend¡¯s eyes. ¡±Good luck!¡± James called, his throat dry, and Alanna raised one hand in response before she pulled herself inside Pendragon¡¯s flank, the scale covering the gap tight as the big dragon lowered her wings and began skating forward on her wheeled claws to take off into the air with powerful wingbeats. James watched them go, his head turning up into the darkening night sky until he lost sight of them. ¡°Good luck.¡± He whispered again. His moment was cut short as Ben ran up to them in the wake of Pendragon¡¯s departure. ¡°Welcome back! Follow me, we need to make a decision, and fast.¡± The obligate friend turned and started jogging through the half-filled parking spaces closer to the store itself, heading for the automated doors that slid open to let him in like he was just another shopper. James and his fellow paladins followed, but were stopped as they got closer by someone in scrubs. He was pretty sure it was Aaron, the long time nurse looking on edge outside of his normal environment underneath the mask. ¡°Hold it.¡± He said, pointing at Simon who was closest to him. ¡°Step here,¡± another point to indicate a spot on the ground off to the side, ¡°and hold still.¡± Simon complied, and Aaron wasted no time using surprisingly deft motions with his thickly gloved hands to pull sticky notes off a pad and slap them against every part of Simon¡¯s armor. The paper seeming to sink into the kevlar and hard plastic shell, and vanishing along with large portions of the gore and sludge. After that was done, the hard physicality of a manifested authority scoured across Simon¡¯s body in a rough top to bottom sweep. Everything it pulled away - which James noted with some trepidation included at least a little hair - was dumped into a medical waste container, sealed, and set aside. ¡±Go. Next, you.¡± Aaron pointed again, and one by one, rapidly decontaminated the group before allowing them into the building. Inside was¡­ normal. It was just normal. Lights on, sanitized music playing, people were even continuing their shopping. Though not everyone; James noticed pretty quickly that the Starbucks had all its tables in use by civilians who looked like a mix of worried and completely shell shocked. And farther back in the store as he was led past some of the aisles, the entire home and garden section was being used for more seating and places for people to wait out the disaster outside. This was where the Order was bringing everyone who was evac¡¯d from inside the zone, and also anyone who had been stopped at the blockade who was waiting for news. It also wasn¡¯t where they were being led. Instead, James followed Ben past the returns desk, and up a narrow flight of scuffed rubber-coated stairs. Through a cramped and awkwardly placed break room, past a desk that looked like it was in use mostly for storing people¡¯s bags that didn¡¯t fit into the tiny lockers, and into a far nicer conference room that had a little window overlooking the interior of the store. The room was already occupied, and Nate, wearing camo fatigues and looking so weird to James in the uniform, looked up at him as he entered. ¡°Good, you¡¯re here.¡± He said with a commanding voice that James also didn¡¯t hear from him very often. The stocky man jerked his chin toward the other people already seated. ¡°This is Jonas Kep, Springfield P.D., Larry Hadov, fire and rescue, Mario Intoyo, militia, and Vex, militia but like us.¡± James looked at the four people who weren¡¯t Order that he¡¯d just been introduced to in rapid succession. ¡°Hi.¡± He said, still rattled from the assault and not thinking at full capacity yet. ¡°James. This is Simon, Alex, and Spire.¡± ¡±You named your drone?¡± Mario asked, the man shifting impatiently in his seat as he scratched at the side of his shaved head. Spire-Cast-Behind turned her lens on him, irising it to a narrow point. ¡°Interesting fact,¡± she said with her rising and falling voice, ¡°if someone does not acknowledge me as a person, it gives me the power to kill them whenever I want.¡± ¡±Yikes.¡± James let slip out without meaning to. He had just learned that Spire had the Climb spell that let her slice up people who were unaware of her, he just didn¡¯t know it worked on people who saw her but thought she wasn¡¯t a person. ¡°Let¡¯s gloss over that and move on. What¡¯s the situation?¡± He asked Nate directly. Nate held up a hand, and the protest of the militia leader silenced instantly, leading James to wonder what the hell had been happening here while he¡¯d been a few miles away fighting for his life. ¡°Planner, please.¡± He requested, a collection of geometrically precise glowing tentacles forming around him and then framing themselves into a large ethereal pane that Planner used as a live-update presentation screen. Maybe this was what had been going on. James caught Alex snickering silently at the way the police representative was clearly uncomfortable about the display. He also realized he was still on his feet, and claimed one of the worn and ripped office chairs that surrounded the table, settling in for a rest that would let the exercise potion do its work a little faster. The other paladins sat too, while to his right, the heavy woman who¡¯d been introduced as Vex gave him a nod, one hand resting on the motorcycle helmet she had on the table in front of her. ¡±Let¡¯s start with the good. Your strike was successful in clearing the Underburbs out of this area. Roughly three square miles back from under its control.¡± Nate spoke as Planner shifted their protection into a split overhead map of the area and a video feed from a drone with significant altitude. Simon interrupted. ¡°Plan don¡¯t show that, there¡¯s still watcher traps out there.¡± He said quickly. ¡±I am filtering. I have no bones to break nor skin to flay, do not worry.¡± Planner¡¯s pen scratch voice filled the room. ¡±Kinda hot.¡± The woman next to James muttered. James leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. ¡°Sorry, Plan¡¯s ace.¡± ¡±How come everyone with tentacles is? This timeline sucks.¡± Vex sighed theatrically, and James decided he liked her with a wide grin. Nate ignored them, which was probably smart, just keeping up his speech knowing that they didn¡¯t actually have time to waste on banter. ¡°Now bad news. First, there¡¯s a really strong ¡®look away¡¯ effect around the border. Our friends here¡± he jutted a thumb toward the cop and firefighter, ¡°are the ones who happened to be approaching. We don¡¯t have large scale backup.¡± ¡±Tried radioing the station, and calling.¡± Larry said, tugging at the suspenders over his navy blue shirt with the local fire and rescue emblem on it. ¡°Sent someone, but he hasn¡¯t come back.¡± ¡±We¡¯re covered?¡± James asked Nate. ¡°As in, this didn¡¯t stop us from getting a call.¡± ¡±It is wide scale but weak.¡± Planner said, before pausing in their motions for a second. ¡°That is inaccurate. It is wide scale, and I am stronger than it.¡± The infomorph corrected. And James suddenly realized that they had never really asked Plan just how strong he had gotten. He¡¯d made a comment once to Jeanie that her daughter Ava was essentially walking around with the mental equivalent of a rocket launcher while she had Hidden with her, and that was still basically true. But Hidden was an assignment that was devoted to a single person, and didn¡¯t seem even interested in spreading. Planner, though¡­ part of Planner was with hundreds of people in the Order, and the assignment¡¯s core self was distributed across at least thirty members of Research. If Hidden was a rocket launcher, Planner was probably more dangerous than the orbital laser the Order technically had. ¡°Good.¡± James said. ¡°Sorry, Nate?¡± ¡°Good news,¡± Nate continued from the slight distraction, ¡°the dungeon¡¯s life can¡¯t survive long outside of it. Bad news, ¡®not long¡¯ is still long enough to cause problems. Rescue teams are already moving in to get as many people back behind us as we can.¡± ¡±We¡¯ll be part of that.¡± Jonas, the cop, said. ¡±Us too!¡± It wasn¡¯t clear why Nate had introduced the rude man as ¡®militia¡¯, but James was a bit surprised at the vehemence of his statement. ¡°This is my home, dammit! What¡¯re the fucking guns for if not this?¡± That¡­ was a surprisingly reasonable and heartfelt statement. James upped his estimation of him by a notch, and considered seeing how he felt about nonhuman life afterward. Just in case he wanted to do more recruiting. ¡°The problem comes from here, and here.¡± Nate pointed and let Planner shift the projected map around. ¡°Centered roughly three miles past your primary target, we¡¯ve got the same expression. No natural light penetrating, mist building up, and we¡¯re seeing fewer and fewer people coming out.¡± He took a fast breath, projecting a professional commanding mood into the room as he set aside any emotion that he might have had for the victims. ¡°So we need to decide what to do about that.¡± ¡±Call the army?¡± Larry suggested. When the others looked at him, he shrugged. ¡°What? You¡¯re all immune to the¡­ the thing. But you don¡¯t have tanks.¡± ¡±The man has an excellent point.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind said with a bob of her body. ¡°James, steal us a tank.¡± ¡±Please don¡¯t say that in front of the literal police.¡± James said. ¡°Also that is a good point. Why aren¡¯t the national guard here at least? We were trying to contact¡­ anyone.¡± Nate¡¯s look was grim. ¡°Something is disrupting every attempt. I sent someone directly via telepad to the nearest base and they haven¡¯t reported back. That was half an hour ago.¡± He continued with similar bad news. ¡°FBI contacts aren¡¯t replying either. We¡¯ll keep trying to reach out, but this situation seems self-isolating.¡± ¡±Sweet buttered Christ that¡¯s spooky.¡± The firefighter muttered. ¡±What if¡­ what if we weren¡¯t asking for help?¡± James asked, voicing a stray thought. He got raised eyebrows from Nate, the thin lines of hair finally regrown to the point that he could do that and have it look like something. ¡°We have one mortar shell left. But the local Guard base would have more, right? What if we rob them?¡± ¡°¡­You can¡¯t-¡° ¡±Kep, shove it.¡± Larry cut the officer off. ¡°But also, kid, you can¡¯t bomb people¡¯s houses.¡± James set his mouth in a line. ¡°It worked well so far. If we can actually find the targets, and they aren¡¯t covered, we could just bomb them. Right? If that doesn¡¯t work at least we can give people cover.¡± ¡°I¡¯m on it.¡± Ben said, leaving the room abruptly. ¡°Keep talking, Plan will keep me informed.¡± As soon as the sound of his feet hitting the stairs faded, Vex looked around the room with a confused scowl. ¡°Wait what the fuck.¡± She said, turning to stare after where Ben had gone. ¡±Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± James told her, and then spoke up to project his voice. ¡°Seriously. No one worry about that. Ben is one of ours, and he can¡¯t turn that off. It¡¯s not malicious.¡± ¡±It¡¯s weird though.¡± Intoyo said, whining like he¡¯d just had the last slice of pizza taken away. ¡°You work like that?¡± ¡±Yes. So, Nate. Options.¡± James demanded. ¡±Option one. We shell the target sites and see if it works. If your- where¡¯s Zhu?¡± ¡±Out of action for now.¡± James answered, hand running across an arm guard that should have feathers but was currently bare. ¡°There¡¯s other navigators though.¡± ¡±Yeah. Find the targets, send in teams to evacuate everyone still alive near them, then pound them into the dirt. That¡¯s assuming we can acquire more ordinance.¡± Nate flicked one of Planner¡¯s tentacles and the infomorph added a bullet point list to one side of his projection, along with a roster on the other. ¡°Option two, for when it turns out that the National Guard base has fallen off the world; split you four up into two teams along with our best combatants, and press into enemy territory toward both targets. Hit them around the same time, make sure any delvers guarding them can¡¯t reinforce each other, and knock them down.¡± ¡±I had to hit the spire pretty hard- sorry Spire, the¡­ tower? It was a needle thing.¡± Simon shrugged. ¡°I think most people would need explosives.¡± ¡±Explosives we have. Limited, but we have some.¡± ¡±We¡¯ve got a winch on the engine, if that would do it.¡± Larry offered. ¡°If you need something knocked over, it can do more than one guy can hit.¡± He said that, but he didn¡¯t know exactly how hard Simon could hit something. Still, it was a maybe, and Planner put it on the board. James did some brief calculation of violence in his head. ¡°How many people do we have here?¡± He asked. ¡°Because the only reason we made it where we were going so fast was that we were lucky enough to not get swarmed, and when we did get swarmed, it was too late to stop us. If the places farther back are farther in, if they were taken first, then¡­¡± he clenched his hands into fists on the table, the dark reality that they hadn¡¯t stopped nearly enough setting in. ¡°Then they¡¯re going to be more built up.¡± ¡±One hundred and sixteen combatants.¡± Planner said evenly. ¡°Split among Responders, delvers, and shields. With a few unaffiliated knights as well.¡± They spun an eye-dotted tentacle to look at their own list. ¡°The biggest problem would be coordinating large group movements. We have not trained for action on this scale.¡± ¡±Could you do it?¡± Alex asked. ¡±What?¡± Planner was momentarily taken aback. Alex pressed the infomorph. ¡°Could you coordinate it. Us. If you were watching, and managing. Could you do it?¡± ¡±¡­Yes.¡± Planner said. ¡°But I would do it badly. I am not a solider, nor a general. I do not know war. I could organize you and send you where you need to be, but if I did it as I know it, there would be unacceptable casualties.¡± To James, that meant there would be any casualties. But he was starting to realize that the Order was likely not going to get out of this without those. There was too much going on, too much required of them, and a cold pit in his stomach as he tried to push past that thought. ¡°No news on why the dungeon is spreading? Also, hi,¡± he turned to the three normal men in the room, ¡°we keep saying dungeon, have you guys been filled in on this, or do I sound like a fucking lunatic?¡± ¡±You guys have a dragon, I¡¯m adapting.¡± Larry said. ¡±You do sound like a lunatic. But yeah, the dragon thing.¡± The militiaman said with a shrug. Vex rapped the top of her helmet. ¡°What about me?¡± ¡±You fucking know what a dungeon is.¡± Alex shot her down rapidly before turning back to Nate. ¡°What about containment? If¡­ if we go in there, people are gonna get hurt. What if we box it in, and hold the line? Let it burn out? This doesn¡¯t happen unless someone is pushing it, right? Eventually it¡¯ll collapse.¡± ¡±Option three.¡± Nate said bluntly. ¡°We fire off our one shot of the cooking spell, and burn the whole place down.¡± That was a very tempting thought. Well, the defensive action was, not the mass arson, especially not when there were people in there. ¡°That sounds nice.¡± James said slowly. ¡°But we don¡¯t know what it¡¯s doing, or why. And there¡¯s a lot of space in each of those zones. A lot of houses. A lot of people we aren¡¯t going to get to. Average population of a square mile in a place like this is about fifteen hundred. If we assume those zones have a¡­ call it five mile diameter, we¡¯re looking at¡­ well, a good chunk of that is undeveloped nothing, but at least ten thousand people.¡± He splayed his fingers out on the table, wondering why his hands were itching so much in his gloves. ¡°We can¡¯t just leave ten thousand people to die.¡± ¡±It¡¯s less than ten thousand by now.¡± Spire-Cast-Behind voiced the dark thought. ¡°The Underburbs is moving fast. So we should stop talking and act.¡± ¡±Yeah. Let¡¯s split up. Small teams with our most dangerous. I¡¯ll take Cam with me, Simon can go with Alex and Spire, we can round out our numbers with a couple more. Do we have vehicles? I¡¯d rather keep the dragons on search and rescue. They¡¯re alive, I don¡¯t want to risk them going too deep into the place that makes plagues. Maybe that¡¯s dumb?¡± His question was answered as Planner ran off a list of the Horizon-modified delver vehicles they¡¯d shifted over from Townton. ¡°Alright. So¡­¡± Kep spoke up. ¡°We can send a few patrol cars with you.¡± He said. ¡°The lights will help, if it¡¯s as dark in there as it looks.¡± ¡±That might be worth it.¡± Nate balanced the need for speed with the fact that the larger a group was, the more of a target it became. ¡°You get it¡¯ll be dangerous?¡± ¡±I¡¯ll talk to my boys.¡± The man stood, and nodded at them. ¡°If you¡¯re sure¡­?¡± ¡±We¡¯re sure.¡± James said confidently. Sure, at least, that every anchor they took out knocked the dungeon back. Sure that if they killed the Underburbs monsters, then fewer people would die. Sure that they weren¡¯t going to be fast enough to save everyone. Twelve percent. The worst number of his life, omnipresent in the back of his mind this whole time, came to the fore of his thoughts. That was all the Underburbs had given him leeway to save last time, and even then, it had been disgustingly close. He refused to accept it this time. Refused to allow it. James stood up, exercise potion having run its course and leaving him feeling fresh. With no trace of blood or mud on his armor and boots, and his limbs feeling stronger than ever, it was almost like he¡¯d be going into the next fight at his fully refreshed power. And really, that was true. He could do this. He could hit the Underburbs again and again, and as long as they had this fallback point, he could be his best doing it. Until it was off his fucking planet, and back in its own boundary. ¡°What am I doing in all this?¡± Vex asked, standing along with James. ¡°Me and my partner, we¡¯re not¡­ we¡¯re not killers like you. But we¡¯ve got some game.¡± ¡±Anything useful for decontamination?¡± James asked. ¡°Cause this place fucking loves throwing plagues around, and we¡¯re lucky it hasn¡¯t had time to make any in its conquest zones yet.¡± ¡±Sorry, nah. My domain is oil, so unless that¡¯s your problem, I¡¯ve got nothing.¡± ¡±¡­Oi¡­ what fucking weird ass magic are you working with?¡± James gave her a slightly hypocritical look as he followed the others down the stairs, the rhythmic thump thump thump of Spire-Cast-Behind¡¯s coils slamming into each step ahead of him. The new girl gave him an unimpressed look. ¡°You have a pet ghost octopus.¡± She accused James. ¡±He¡¯s not a pet, but fair. Healing? Scouting? Defense?¡± He probed. ¡°I don¡¯t need your secrets but I need to know where to send you so you won¡¯t die.¡± ¡±We can¡­ we can probably pull some kind of last stand, if that¡¯s what you really need¡­¡± All the confidence and cock-sure attitude was gone now. James sighed. ¡°No.¡± He said. ¡°What we need is to get as much done with as little loss as possible. Nate didn¡¯t give you an assignment, so¡­¡± he tapped into the local Order network through his skulljack and made a quick check. ¡°¡­go find the mustering tent for Recovery. You can help with keeping this place safe, and if you¡¯ve got some way to keep everyone calm, that¡¯d help too. But they¡¯ll figure out what to do with you.¡± He really, really wanted to ask her a million questions about her team, her dungeon, her magic, her life. But there was no time, and if someone was uncertain about going into battle, and James didn¡¯t know them, then he didn¡¯t want them nearby when he drove into a horde of exploding pus-dogs again. ¡°You seem like you know what you¡¯re doing, so sure. Why do you-¡± Vex said from behind him before stopping as something in her pocket made a jaunty little beep. ¡°Oh hey. My¡­ uh¡­ my friend just¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°Hey, stupid question. Do you know who the Last Line-¡° ¡±Nate!¡± James¡¯ sharp bark of alarm got Nate¡¯s attention real fast. Which was good, because he didn¡¯t have time to waste on a pillar right now. He had a dungeon to fight. _____ Nate¡¯s daily life had never really been pleasant. When he was assigned to keep an eye on the Order, going ¡®undercover¡¯ in the most flimsy way possible, he¡¯d actually gotten a taste of a normal life. Cook to the best of his considerable ability, manage the kitchen shipments, do a little scheduling, done. And sometimes cater a delve, but that was the same shit, just somewhere else. A normal job for a normal man. He hadn¡¯t allowed himself to love it. And he was right to do so. Because responsibility followed ability, and as soon as it was clear that he knew more than JP about sneaky shit, the knight was pestering him for tips and tricks. And more than that, for a partnership of sorts. Running his own intelligence agency, for their own purposes. Then there were other rogues to train, other people he was supposed to give a shit about, other species he needed to learn the dietary requirements for, and¡­ and Cam. That idiot kid was so much like him it would have hurt if he¡¯d let it, and she needed a lot more help than anyone else. Every day was a constant series of attempts from what was needed to get in the way of what Nate wanted. What he wanted was to be perfecting his barbeque sauce recipe, and seeing if he could serve a camraconda enough ribs to put them in a coma. What he got was literal magic that somehow created more headaches than it solved, and the task of commanding a full on defensive military action. He didn¡¯t have time for a pillar. He didn¡¯t have patience for a pillar. And, fortunately, he was too busy being angry to really feel the fear he had for the man standing in the middle of the street. The Last Line Of Defense was wearing what looked like samurai armor, though with the purple orbs he¡¯d been sucking down in his free time, Nate could see that it was a far cry from the movie prop it appeared as on the surface. That was armor. Real, actual armor, and probably better at doing its job than it looked. Then it was a flak vest, which Nate was a lot more comfortable with. Yelling at a guy who looked like he was proficient in the way of the samurai would be either too easy or too pathetic. Yelling at a soldier he could do. ¡°You¡¯re in our way.¡± Nate called, stopping fifty feet away from the pillar. The man was currently appearing as a coffee skinned figure with a nose that looked like it had been broken a hundred times and a scar crossing one eye. At Nate¡¯s words, the man shifted slightly, skin lightening, frame widening, eye sockets pulling deeper. Nate didn¡¯t really notice it, but he noticed himself not noticing; a single blink and the Last Line was different, and he couldn¡¯t remember how he had been. Only that he had changed. ¡°How the fuck does James keep track of these things.¡± He complained. ¡°Interesting.¡± The Last Line Of Defense said, voice carrying over the ambiance of hundreds of humans racing about nearby, and the crack of gunfire from the nearby defensive positions. ¡°You aren¡¯t quite like the others.¡± ¡±Thanks. What do you want.¡± Nate got to the point. The Last Line sighed and took a drink from a metal hip flask that looked like it had taken a bullet itself at some point. ¡°The lengths that humans will go to, just to struggle for people who are already lost, never ceases to astound me.¡± ¡±Thanks.¡± ¡±It was no compliment.¡± The pillar kept his arm held close across his chest, but one finger pulled away from the flask to point Nate¡¯s way. ¡°Your attempt is noble, but foolish. Your simple tools are bound to fail, and with your loss, the demon will gain more momentum than you steal.¡± He paused, and something about it compelled Nate to wait; it was a pause that added weight to his words, with no room for an interjection. ¡°A strange turn. Stealing seems to be all you are good for, as you have made a habit of taking my daughters from me.¡± Nate¡¯s face kept its steady form; unhappy, but in the normal way he was always unhappy. His palm rested on the butt of the pistol he wore at his side, but his fingers stayed splayed out as he answered calmly. ¡°You¡¯re talking about people like they¡¯re things.¡± He said. ¡°Besides that, we only ¡®took¡¯ two of them, and they¡¯re both welcome to return to you when they¡¯re good for it. Not like you have a mailing address.¡± ¡±It¡¯s too late for them now, they are no longer mine. You¡¯ve taken them so perfectly they can never be stolen back. A pity.¡± The thing the Order mockingly called Lloyed turned at the sound of an inhuman scream that was cut short by gunfire. ¡°What do you hope to attain here?¡± ¡±A tactical victory.¡± Nate was compelled to answer, but not compelled to answer helpfully. He wondered if this was what being a pillar was like; people said things you had to reply to, and you gave them cryptic bullshit out of spite. ¡±Yes.¡± The Last Line of Defense told him. ¡°You are not going to find triumphs nor glories here. This is not a place of heroism, it is a sepulcher in the making. Remove yourselves from the field. My daughters and I will handle what you lack the power to.¡± Nate chewed on nothing as he thought about it. ¡°One of your kids is in the medical tent. This one we didn¡¯t ¡®steal¡¯, but she got hurt during our first sortie. If you can do something for her, it would help to have another super soldier back in the field.¡± The Last Line inclined his head. ¡°It is within my power to strengthen our world¡¯s defenders.¡± He lowered his chin back to spear Nate with a gaze, both of them largely ignoring the shield team and a handful of locals moving hotwired SUVs out of the way so they could set up a resupply and fallback point. ¡°But I will be direct. You are scratching at the door of affairs larger and more cataclysmic than you will ever be prepared to handle. Your kind are nothing new. You believe that having armed yourself, it makes you a soldier. But you are all fools for it. There is only one source of real soldiers for this battlefield, and you are nowhere near the threshold for it. You say I am in your way?¡± The hand holding a little tin cup gestured to his right where the repurposed police APC was idling and waiting for a paladin¡¯s team to board. ¡°Let me tell you this. You are in my way. And I will have you out of the place not meant for you, or suffer the cost.¡± Nate nodded. And then jerked his thumb to the side. ¡°Let me tell you what I know.¡± He said, mouth dry, wishing he had his own stupid fucking shapeshifting flask. The piller probably had magic booze too. ¡°You¡¯re not the fucking first line of defense. If you want to work with us, coordinate, then cut the shit and let¡¯s get to work. If your ego can¡¯t handle it, then you know where the last line is? It¡¯s five miles that way. Get marching, soldier.¡± ¡°Insolence is for those with the strength to back it up.¡± The Last Line of Defense told him, perfectly audible over the rumble of the heavy engine. ¡°You are only human. Every moment you waste here is a moment that costs ground.¡± Nate shook his head at the man. Because suddenly, he realized, that¡¯s all the pillar was. Just a man. An absurdly powerful one, one who was only talking because using his powers to cut through and get what he wanted would cost him, but still a man at the core of it all. The pillars were human. Or maybe it was more precise to say that whatever they were was just a highly modified human; the pillars themselves were a faction of those changed people, but their humanity wasn¡¯t gone, just different. And with all that in mind, Nate found this particular person, who felt like a fucking mountain about to crash down on this hallowed Wal Mart parking lot, who didn¡¯t carry a weapon because he didn¡¯t need one, who he knew from Cam¡¯s debrief was actually capable of leveling a ten mile zone if his daughters were in place¡­ This man was contemptible. He was wasting Nate¡¯s time. He wasn¡¯t even attacking, because that would weaken him or some shit. He was just standing there bandying threats about. ¡±You¡¯re right.¡± Nate said with the cruel cadence his father used to use when he wanted to express exactly how disappointed he was. ¡°Go fuck with someone else. I¡¯ve got work to do.¡± Following the blunt words, he did the stupidest thing he could think of. He turned around, and started walking away. Behind him, clear as anything over the ambient chaos, he heard the Last Line snort. ¡°Very well. Daughter, test this one.¡± The words were scornful, and Nate knew exactly what they meant. He turned his head to see a Camille - color unknown, but like all the sisters she was wielding a five foot long bladed mace and dressed in plate - lunging toward him out of Lloyd¡¯s shadow. The girl, who he knew would look like an underfed and traumatized teenager out of the armor, right now looked like some kind of valkyrie almost flying across the gap between them, a single kick off the ground enough to accelerate her to lethal speeds. Nate didn¡¯t have a lot of tricks. He couldn¡¯t hide people in his shadow, for example. That was what the APC was for. Cam grabbed her sister¡¯s leg, the one that was elevated in her charge, as she blitzed out of her hiding place. The silver-tipped fingers of her gloved hand tightened around metal that was meant to stand up to anti-tank rounds, and began to crush it like a tin can. The Camille that was charging Nate had just a moment for surprise to flash across her helmed expression before her erstwhile sister arrested her movement, and then swung her in a wild arc through the air to slam her into the pavement with a noise like a car crash, drawing screams of alarm from half the people within earshot. The mace she was holding stayed in her grip for an admirable amount of time until she was impacted against the parking lot¡¯s surface again at a weird angle, and Cam caught her wrist on the rebound to wrench the weapon out of twitching fingers before aggressively dropping the attacking sister back to the ground. ¡±Test concluded.¡± Cam said, combat boot stomping her sister¡¯s head back into the asphalt when the new Camille tried to get up. She glanced in the Last Line¡¯s direction, but didn¡¯t hesitate before turning away and looking at Nate. ¡°Are you alright?¡± ¡±Not a scratch. She gonna be okay?¡± ¡±If she isn¡¯t, I¡¯ve been lied to about more than I expected.¡± Cam said, keeping up the pressure on her struggling sibling. Nate nodded. ¡°Great. Let her go. I need your help organizing search and rescue patterns before you deploy with our stupidest paladin.¡± Cam looked down at the armored girl she was pinning to the parking lot, and then nodded. Stepping away, and using a soft kick to fling the Camille back toward the Last Line of Defense like an armored rag doll, she ignored both of them and strode after the person in this conversation who actually mattered. It helped that she knew - and so, everyone else in the Order knew too - that ¡®testing¡¯ was how her estranged father murdered people he found inconvenient. And that once someone had passed, the Last Line was significantly hobbled in how he could interact with them. It also helped that it felt so very good to block her own peripheral vision of the man with her wings, ignore him completely, and imagine that he was impotently upset with her as she walked away. He could help or he could fuck off. She had actual important things to take care of. _____ Deb ran through a rapidly assembled prefab medical structure. Calling it a ¡®tent¡¯ would be rude to the people who had thrown it together as fast as they had, but calling it a building would be a lie. It was mostly just a series of rooms, large and small, that were capable of slightly more secure quarantine for people coming out of the Underburbs. And they needed it. Because people were coming out of the Underburbs. In Deb¡¯s medical opinion, the Stratified Underburbs were the worst place to go if you wanted to not have health problems. Followed shortly by a visit to a nuclear waste sarcophagus, and a hike through an active minefield. The highly contagious diseases it inflicted on people were only survivable as a species because they burned themselves out on a rapidly accelerated timeline, and the ones that didn¡¯t appeared to not be spreadable. Some of them were just painful, others were almost intentionally designed to cause maximum chaos, and for some, if untreated, they were just outright lethal. Which was why she was running. Sprinting, really. Scrub, her authority, was spending all his focus on keeping her clean of contaminants, and Deb hadn¡¯t realized how much she¡¯d grown to rely on the passive physical boost the authority normally provided. She felt like she was a little too sluggish as she bolted down the hall past the main triage room and toward where they were keeping a few bad cases. She was trying not to think about the material sliding off of Scrub¡¯s protective shell, or the hazmat suit the authority was woven into. Trying not to do the mental math on how much was human vomit, and how much was human shrapnel. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡±Move!¡± Deb¡¯s command and pointed hand to the group of people being taken into decontamination through the hall ahead of her as she turned a corner was a sharp barked word. And everyone who wasn¡¯t confused by her appearance complied rapidly, pressing against the rough wood walls to let her dodge past the last few who were too slow. They¡¯d need to be checked over extra close in case she¡¯d infected them anew. Deb¡¯s hands deftly grabbed the plastic sheets that covered the door to her destination, flinging them aside as she flung herself through. Eyes flicking across the beds and the bloated bodies of the humans that were laying there before meeting the eyes of the other doctor in the room. ¡°It¡¯s getting wor-¡° the man started to say before Deb cut him off. ¡±Induce vomiting. Now. All of them.¡± She ordered, moving for the first woman who was infected with this particular Underburbs nightmare. Already moving to the first patient¡¯s bed, looking at the bulging stomach and swelling limbs of the man who would normally be a pretty skinny guy, Deb snapped a pair of sterile gloves onto her hands. One hand gripping the barely conscious man¡¯s chin, eliciting a meek groan of agony as she pushed his mouth open, before her other hand shoved two extended fingers down his throat. The man began gagging, thrashing weakly as he tried to bat Deb away with his bulging hands where the skin distended into tight bubbles. ¡°You need to vomit.¡± Deb said calmly, ignoring the impacts on her chest and arms. ¡°Trust me. This will help.¡± He stopped hitting her, but kept writhing against her grip, the human instinct to not have a stranger shove fingers down your throat stronger than his willpower. Deb curled her fingers, hearing the gagging become wetter, and then yanked her hand out, turning the man¡¯s head so the flood of bile from his stomach splashed onto the concrete floor. Protected from the smell of it, she still dodged away from the spreading puddle. Letting go of the man, Deb watched carefully as the swollen bulges and bloated stomach began to rapidly deflate. Leaving behind stretched skin that would require some kind of fixing later, the act of emptying his stomach had been sufficient to trigger the eradication of the disease from his body. And this time, before it got to the stage that part of him burst like an explosive charge. One life saved, and the other doctor working on the third patient, Deb moved to repeat the process to the man in the middle bed as a pair of ratroach helpers that had been called rushed into the room to start careful cleanup and also getting the patients some water. Maybe a skin care potion too. ¡±Standard procedure from now on.¡± Deb said out loud, while adding it to the medical link via her skulljack at the same time. ¡°Anyone has these symptoms, get them to vomit immediately. The sooner the better.¡± She looked back at the first man who was being allowed to sip on a small cup of water, too shaken to be nervous about the ratroach holding him steady with several hands on his back. ¡°Did you get a survivor notification?¡± She asked. He nodded weakly, and Deb sighed in relief. Three lives saved. No matter what the Underburbs had to say about it, it was Deb who got the last chance to keep one of their rescues alive. And she was collecting more knowledge with every case that came in. The medical link alerted her before she could really catch her breath. Another fifteen people coming through triage. Response was bringing their best today, which, it turned out, was far too much for the medical staff to keep up with. They¡¯d never been tested like this, not like the other knights had in their own fields. And the cracks were starting to show. But Deb could worry about that later. Right now, she had somewhere else to be. _____ Arrush had no idea what he was doing. It shouldn¡¯t be hard. His objective, as outlined in the briefing where he¡¯d been paying incredibly close attention, was simple. Deploy via drake, find people who were still in the dark zone, handle any immediate threats, and then telepad back with them in maximum sized batches now that they had an address to telepad to. Go through decontamination, rest, rearm, then repeat. There were an estimated ten thousand humans in the area the Underburbs had claimed - and more still in the space it had tried to take and been rebuked from, but they were safe enough for now - and so there was no shortage of work to do. The improved telepads could move ten people at once, which meant¡­ which meant a thousand perfect trips. Even with the number of knights acting right now, that was not possible. That was twenty trips each, assuming things went flawlessly, and assuming the number was a reasonable estimate. It would be past dawn tomorrow by the time they were done. And the time it would take would cost more and more lives. But beyond the logistical hellscape, Arrush didn¡¯t know why he was doing this. He¡¯d fought before. He¡¯d been training, too. He was confident he could kill anything down there, whether it was known to the Order or not yet. He might be more of a person than he had ever been before, but he was also still a keenly sharpened weapon, and for the first time in his life he was proud of that. But all the times he had fought before it had been for something. For Keeka, out of love and fear. For himself, out of a survival instinct he couldn¡¯t repress. For James, out of misplaced obligation and later a growing compassion. For anyone in the Order, out of respect and a sense of community. He would easily find the will to fight for the chanters, or the camracondas. Or for anyone who he¡¯d worked with in the kitchens. But these people were just humans. James wanted to help everyone, and when he said everyone, he meant everyone. But Arrush didn¡¯t even know if he wanted to help every ratroach, much less everyone in a species he had barely met. They were strangers, and a lot of them were going to be afraid of him, or hate him on sight. And no matter what his loves thought of him, he wasn¡¯t heroic. He wasn¡¯t someone who would have been driven into a situation like this of his own accord. Arrush would hide. Or run. Or fight back when it closed in, but not before. And yet, here he was, mounting up on the third saddle of a growing supply drake named Elegan, behind a human he¡¯d never met, ready to¡­ to what? To save lives? The ratroach felt an acid in his gut that he thought he¡¯d left behind when he¡¯d been changed into what he was now. His own tails, wrapped for protection but less armored than the rest of him, lashed against the string of heavy black plastic clips that made up Elegan¡¯s own tail in nervous twitches. As they moved out to the cleared strip of road for the drake to get a running start for takeoff, the surprisingly hefty paper creature shaking all three passengers back and forth as he trundled across the parking lot, Arrush reached forward to nervously tap the arm of the human ahead of him. ¡±I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing here!¡± He said, panic creeping into his voice as the Responder turned to look back, one hand holding fast to the saddle even though he¡¯d been strapped in. The human looked back ahead of them, to where Elegan and his ¡®pilot¡¯ were lining them up to lunge forward into an almost solid wall of darkness that was inky black even against the night itself. ¡°Yeah man!¡± The Responder called back. ¡°I kinda hate this too! But hey, people need us, right?¡± Arrush froze briefly, claws tensing their grasps before relaxing. People needed them. That was something he¡¯d never actually considered, never even been in the realm of what he would think would be possible. He¡¯d needed everyone else, even before he¡¯d been taken in by the Order. He¡¯d needed so much, for so long. He wasn¡¯t someone that other people needed; at most, he was just mildly useful. But all these humans, hundreds, thousands of them, their lives in peril because of no fault of their own? They needed the Order, right now. They needed someone, the way he¡¯d needed someone. And a lot of them were going to die if they didn¡¯t get what they needed. And that was wrong. The thought burned through Arrush like lightning. This was not right. This wasn¡¯t the kindness the world had shown him when he¡¯d escaped the Sewer. This wasn¡¯t the paradise promised. This was cruel and hostile, another vicious and shitty dungeon lashing out. It was like the Akashic Sewer, only bigger, and meaner. And, also, it was right here. Arrush was confident he could kill anything in the dark zone. And he was going to test that if it meant denying this monster what it wanted. Maybe he wasn¡¯t a hero like James was, but he knew what he hated, and he could work with that. The thought came as Elegan took a running start down the road, wings tucked in before suddenly flaring out with a snap of motion that shook the riders. And then, they were airborne. Wind whipping past Arrush¡¯s masked muzzle as the magically enhanced drake accelerated, banking slightly to aim them directly into the dark zone. The line where the light stopped came and went without any sensation. The man in front of Arrush yelled something with a laugh, but he didn¡¯t hear it. He was too busy watching below them; a dangerous prospect in the Underburbs, but a risk they had to take if they were going to spot survivors. The glow from streetlights and headlights and the windows of homes illuminating less than it should, showing trails of blood and broken glass, smashed front yards and damaged walls. Arrush kept his with the best night vision open wide as Elegan flared his wings and slowed them to a cruise over their target neighborhood. ¡°Entering unswept area.¡± Their pilot sent through the skulljack. That was something he hadn¡¯t trained with yet, and Arrush wished he¡¯d not shied away from the tool before now. ¡°Totem going up.¡± A click of a tube shaped contraption Momo had built later, and all four people knew how many humans were within range of the totem. Arrush¡¯s eyes extended farther, though, so he kept looking. Rooftops passed by below, a pack of things with glinting eyes looked upward from their meal to howl after them, a few cars in motion fled through darkened streets. At one point, he caught sight of motion to their left, and after jerking his eyes away before it could form anything, used a claw to tap the man in front of him. ¡°Something bad that way!¡± He shouted. Actually shouted, like he never could before. Through the skulljack, there was suddenly an overlayed hazard marker for all of them as the trained Responder flagged the area as no-look. Arrush let his claw drop, nodding his thanks even if it went unseen. A burst of gunfire erupted from a few blocks away; practically nothing from the perspective of a flying team, and so the pilot angled their ride that direction. Two seconds later was all it took before the totem lit up information in their minds; eight humans, abruptly changing to seven as the gunfire stopped. ¡°Eric, you¡¯re up!¡± The pilot sent them. ¡°Five seconds, ready?¡± The man was already pulling flares from a bandolier and dropping them, red burning stars falling behind them in a trail of illumination. ¡±Ready!¡± The responder - Eric, apparently - undid his harness and flipped one leg over the side of the rippling flank of the drake. ¡°See you back at home!¡± He said before the count hit zero and he dropped over into the night. They weren¡¯t that high up, but still, a fifty foot fall was lethal to most humans. Of course, most humans didn¡¯t have the magic the Order did. Arrush had just enough time to see the man¡¯s equipped greave flicker with light in the gloom before he accelerated downward and out into the red glow. Humans huddled in a group against a prowling black skinned thing with too many sunken spiral patterns in its flesh having just enough time to realize they weren¡¯t about to die as the Responder slammed into the ground, and then straight through the dungeon monster, like it was all one planned motion. Arrush didn¡¯t watch. He had spotted something else. ¡°T-two streets that way! Left!¡± He yelled as loudly as he could at the pilot. It was on the edge of where they definitely couldn¡¯t look, but he was checking anyway, just being careful. ¡°Car!¡± The car in question was being pursued by a pack of things that Arrush only caught glimpses of; short creatures with white flesh and foot long curved fingers. They weren¡¯t that fast, but the VW bus they were chasing was forced to slow down repeatedly to dodge downed power lines or other crashed cars, so they were gaining. ¡±I gotcha.¡± The pilot said, veering Elegan around in a wide arc. ¡°How good¡¯s your falling aim?¡± Arrush had no idea how to answer that. But it didn¡¯t really matter; he¡¯d either hit the target or he wouldn¡¯t. His stomach lurched for a completely different reason as the drake dipped downward, wings the width of the street itself risking hitting something as they came in directly toward the fleeing bus. ¡°Now or never!¡± The pilot sent as Elegan flared his wings to slow them down as much as was safe. Arrush had already unstrapped himself. Suddenly, presented with the actual situation, he realized that he knew exactly what he was really doing here. No one deserved this, but the universe was unfair. Which meant it was up to them to make it fair. The fall meant very little to him; his bone structure was very good at absorbing impacts like that. The big question was if he¡¯d judged the speed right, and if the driver would panic seeing Elegan fly overhead through his windshield. There was just enough time for the totem to tell him there were six new living humans in range - probably in this vehicle - before Arrush¡¯s paws slammed into the roof of the bus. Then his knees, then two of his hands as he stopped himself from sliding off the back. Someone below him screamed, but that was a secondary concern. Pulling himself up to a crouch on the moving vehicle he¡¯d just dented the roof of, Arrush¡¯s claws fumbled only for a moment before he grabbed the p90 slung across his armored chest, two hands keeping it steady as he sighted on the first thing that was closing into the red glow of the bus¡¯s brake lights. It looked like a human child, almost. Or maybe closer to a ratroach child. Monstrous, but perhaps that was just a veil. Then Arrush saw the eyes; filled with nothing but hunger and malice, some vile motivating force pushing the naked figure to throw itself across a breaking city in pursuit of any survivors, to add their blood to the stains already around its fanged mouth. He started shooting, the first burst going wide as he fired on reflex before remembering his training. Grip the weapon, hold it into the pocket of his flesh that worked like a shoulder. Breathe deep, hold the breath, then steadily pull the trigger so as to not jerk his aim off. Use the sights but also keep your eyes on the target itself. That last part let him see the monster¡¯s arm explode in a spray of gore before he flicked his aim slightly to the right and finished the job. More screams came from below, and the bus started to slow. Arrush looked in front of them, but there was no obstacle. As he shot down another thing coming out of the gloom behind them, he slammed a paw twice onto the top of the vehicle. ¡°Drive!¡± He yelled at the humans, trying to sound as confident as he could and hoping they heard him. Something else started screaming. Something in the night around them. A dozen voices, high pitched and hungry. And then their owners rushed the old bus, from several directions and not just behind them. Arrush could solve this problem, though. Breathe, focus, look, depress the trigger. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] Breathe. Look at the next one. Ignore the shredded corpse of a cat dangling from its claws. Depress the trigger. Spot three of them gaining on the right side of the car. They¡¯d come from inside a house, the windows smashed in, the residents likely dead. Arrush needed to cover both sides, so he switched his p90 to his dominant hands while his secondary rear arm drew his sidearm. Breathe in. Eyes can split vision but can¡¯t aim as well like this. Use the extended limb as an aiming guide. Pull the triggers. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] Keep shooting. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] Reload the p90. Turn the pistol on the cluster behind the bus that were gaining on them, the monsters loping over the easy ground of the road like they were pretending to be wolves. Wing one. Hit another more directly, but kill neither. Ignore the crying from the car, because the humans wouldn¡¯t be okay if Arrush stopped. Empty the pistol. Switch what weapon was being reloaded. Coordinating all his limbs had never been so smooth as it was now that his brain was made for it. Resume killing before they got close. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] Something slammed into the van on the side Arrush hadn¡¯t been covering, and he jerked in alarm as a clawed hand wrapped around the metal rail on that side, one of the things pulling itself up with a toothy smile as it screamed at him with a high pitched wail. He kicked it, and it tumbled back to the street, dazed, but not dead. Arrush didn¡¯t have time to shoot it, he had more targets. There were more and more of them coming in now, and he didn¡¯t know how large the pack was; there was no clear way to tell, so he just kept shooting into the denser clusters of the twisted children. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] Abruptly, something changed. A static at first, followed by a squeal of feedback. First from the car¡¯s stereo below where he was crouched, and then, painfully, from inside his head as whatever it was interfered with his skulljack directly. He almost didn¡¯t hear the thud as the driver tried to swerve to avoid an onrushing beast, and the furred quadruped assailant leapt onto the hood of the vehicle. But he didn¡¯t miss when he felt the pulse of interference from it as it tried to smash through the car¡¯s windshield with its paws. Turning, Arrush saw one of those black furred things, covered in depressed whorls with an eyeless face. His inattention let one of the child attackers clamber up and almost slice into him, and he tumbled rather than lunged as he slid down the windshield of the bus. One free paw holding back the face of the grey skinned monster trying to bite him while the other pressed the pistol to its head and splattered the windshield with gore. [Killer - Low : +1 Skill Point] And then the black mass of the cat thing that was causing him to hear static turned its attention to Arrush. Which was its mistake, but it could be forgiven. He looked like he was reeling and stunned, and his bullpup had been knocked from his hands to twist in its strap against his side. His pistol was empty too, so he must seem like easy prey. Arrush braced two hands on the windshield wipers of the bus as the cat lunged to try to bite him with teeth that emerged from one of its whorls, the depression in its skin snapping shut as it came at him from a weird angle. But Arrush had already drawn the short blade from the sheath on his hip, and the momentum of the creature combined with his own long practice in using the weapon up close made it almost easy to slide it through the gap of it¡¯s ¡®mouth¡¯ and impale it deeply. It struggled as Arrush used the sword as leverage to pull himself over the monster, another paw drawing a combat knife and plunging it into what would be the chin on any normal animal, dragging the weapon downward to snap small bones and tear open flesh. Blood, or something close enough, splattering in thick waves against the windshield and hood of the bus as he ripped the creature open. [Killer - Shallow : +3 Skill Points] Arrush pulled the knife out, rolled off and back onto the hood with a metal thump as he left a dent, and then kicked the furred thing off. The static in his head clearing away instantly as he did so. He looked upward to meet the terrified eyes of the driver inside the comfortable looking bus with its warm upholstery and curtains on the windows. ¡°Drive.¡± Arrush reiterated. The man nodded, jerking back into motion and further crushing the corpse of the feline attacker as they got underway. Arrush himself climbed carefully back up onto the roof, armored form dripping with black sludge as he did so. They¡¯d need to get clear of the rest of the pack before he could teleport these people out. Which meant he wasn¡¯t done yet. He tapped his mask, inhaling a burst of exercise potion that eased the strain in his limbs and lungs as he made sure his weapons were loaded and his legs were firmly secured in a crouch on the car¡¯s roof. There were only a few left, and then they could be out of here. And then, he could come back. _____ Myles stood in an empty lot, digging his phone out of his pocket, and swearing. He¡¯d driven like hell to get here. Even when he¡¯d cleared the border region of the fight, and had suddenly been dumped back into normal daily life for a few thousand people who were all commuting home at the same time during 5pm rush hour. Myles had broken so many traffic laws, and the only reason he¡¯d gotten away with it was that half the city¡¯s police were stuck in or around the Underburbs. Someone had actually shot at him, in a fit of road rage. It was probably a little justified, he¡¯d cut the guy off after all; but it was also the least important thing he¡¯d had to contend with on the drive over. More relevant was that he¡¯d passed by a McDonalds where he could clearly see the last rogue who had been sent to get help. Not in trouble, just eating a cheeseburger and fries, like he¡¯d fucking forgotten what he was doing. Myles had not called, not stopped, not done anything that might get himself caught in the same web. Just hoped the rogue was alright and enjoying lunch, and then floored it as he cleared the corner and dodged a semi truck. Breaking out of the heavier traffic, Myles had made it to his target in record time, fully prepared to use the multiple magical tools at his disposal to rob a National Guard base. He knew they had the ordinance the Order needed to stop any large scale attacks from the dungeon, and he knew that asking wasn¡¯t working. So it was the classic ¡®steal first, ask forgiveness if they ever found out¡¯ gambit. And now he was standing by his car, using overhead drones to confirm that he was the tallest thing in a ten block radius, looking at building sized cracked concrete squares on the ground with shoots of weeds growing through them and a chain link fence that had tall grass growing up to just under the barbed wire. He¡¯d parked on what he figured was an airstrip, but without the helicopters and hangers anywhere to be seen. Nate answered on the first ring. ¡±It¡¯s not here!¡± Myles yelled. ¡±The fuck do you mean it¡¯s not here.¡± He spun around, one arm outstretched even though Nate probably couldn¡¯t see him. ¡°I mean that it isn¡¯t fucking here! There is no National Guard base!¡± A pause, and then Myles heard Nate talking to someone else in the room. ¡±You sure you¡¯re screening him? Fuckin¡­¡± Nate¡¯s voice came back into focus. ¡°Alright, explain.¡± ¡±I am standing on an empty airstrip. There are no buildings, just concrete floor where there should be, or were buildings.¡± Myles tried to order his report as he¡¯d practiced as part of the rogues, but this one was too weird to keep his focus on. ¡°There¡¯s a fence. There¡¯s all the space that¡¯s supposed to be the base. But there is no base. There¡¯s nothing! I¡¯m not even finding loose trash or shell casings or whatever trail guardsmen leave behind!¡± Nate muttered something about policing brass before taking a deep breath and answering. ¡°I know, know, that what I am about to say is against the rules.¡± The field commander said grimly. ¡°But that isn¡¯t possible.¡± Myles winced in sympathy. ¡°It¡¯s on satellite maps. People we have confirmed are real have left mother fucking google reviews about their time there. It¡¯s a functioning US military base in the middle of a fucking US city. It cannot not be there.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to say. You¡¯re not getting your mortar shells.¡± Myles looked around again. ¡°Unless there¡¯s something I¡¯m missing. Want me to start digging?¡± He could practically hear the exasperated ¡®I don¡¯t have time for this¡¯ pause in Nate¡¯s reply. ¡°Literally?¡± ¡±Yeah. Like, underground. If something scoured it, it might still have underground storage.¡± Myles didn¡¯t have a shovel, but he did have a couple blue spells. Manipulate asphalt would at least let him tunnel down a bit, though¡­ ¡°Hey, am I in the Underburbs right now?¡± He asked Nate nervously. The briefing for this whole operation had included repeated harsh reminders that there was a standing no magic used on any Underburbs stuff rule in the Order of Endless Rooms. None. Do not manipulate it¡¯s terrain, do not use detection spells on its creatures, hell, avoid Paving anything if you could help it. External magic was probably safer, but absolutely nothing with feedback. And absolutely do not attempt to imbue or enchant anything from that place. That last part had been aimed at Momo pretty directly. Myles hadn¡¯t had time to check, but he was betting she¡¯d tried to imbue one of the skill crystals. How, he wasn¡¯t sure, since those things were kept under lockdown just in case they were still somehow toxic, but he was pretty sure she¡¯d tried anyway. ¡°Leave it.¡± Nate told him. ¡°I have a new job for you.¡± ¡±Oh yeah?¡± Myles felt a chill. Like he was about to be asked to do something really stupid. ¡±Yeah. We need firepower, and air support, and preferably from dungeon experienced combatants. And you¡¯re the only person who¡¯s called back from outside, so you get to be our relay.¡± The sound of Nate exhaling cigarette smoke was somehow discernible to Myles as he listened to his new orders. ¡°You should have access to all the possible contact info we have. You¡¯re authorized to negotiate a first day fee up to $320,000.¡± Myles almost asked for what, and then realized that there was only one actual answer. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to catch the cold breeze flavored with gasoline fumes sweeping in with the night. ¡°I¡¯ll call Harlan.¡± He said, resigned to his fate. ¡°Just in case, right?¡± Nate didn¡¯t answer, and Myles worried that his boss had a gut feeling that was going to fucking ruin his weekend. _____ Vex was having a weird day. Really weird. Peanut butter and horseradish sandwich weird. ¡±What the hell is happening here?¡± Her girlfriend asked as the two of them lingered in the harsh white light of a Wal Mart parking lot. They were supposed to be following a group of these people as part of a moving response force in case anything tried to come out of the hellgate that had sprung up here in southern Missouri, but right now they were just waiting. Things had tried to come out, but other teams had handled it. They were supposed to stay close around this building, and the little strip mall behind it, where survivors were being stockpiled like a vital resource. Vex didn¡¯t know how to answer Mags¡¯ question. ¡°I think they¡¯re fighting monsters.¡± She said, trying to quash the spiritual reflex she¡¯d built up over the last few years to reach out and feel for her domain around them. The Order¡¯s warning - they were called an Order, for crying out loud - about using magic on the Underburbs was still stuck in her head, and she didn¡¯t want to risk it. ¡°And I think they¡¯re winning?¡± Her girlfriend motioned limply at their group. ¡±They¡¯re dressed like extras from that one Christian Bale movie.¡± ¡±Batman?¡± ¡±No the one where he¡¯s a sad fascist.¡± ¡±Batman.¡± ¡±The other one.¡± ¡±The Machinist.¡± ¡±The sci fi one.¡± ¡±Equilibrium?¡± Mags sighed. ¡°Probably. I forgot you downloaded all of IMDB into your brain last semester.¡± Still smirking, Vex shook her head. ¡±Don¡¯t say that around these guys, they¡¯ll think you mean it.¡± She tapped the back of her neck, trying to quietly indicate the weird cybernetics the knights all had. It was weird, and maybe a little creepy. Were they even individuals at this point? There was a whole squad that looked like it was made up of girls moving in perfect unison and that was maybe more fascinating than it should be to Vex. ¡°So¡­ what are we doing?¡± She whispered to her partner. ¡±You mean, are we sneaking off?¡± Mags asked. ¡°Hell, I don¡¯t know.¡± Her voice was suddenly tight and leaking despair. ¡°What are we doing¡­¡± ¡±She¡¯s still in there.¡± Vex nodded toward the dark zone. ¡±Yeah. I know. I know! But what are we supposed to do?!¡± Mag¡¯s voice raised, and the people they were with glanced at them. Or at least, the big snake did. ¡°We¡¯ve got a pistol and a baseball bat and magic that¡¯ll kill us to use in there!¡± Vex knew that. She knew, and she hated it, and yet still. Their girlfriend was in there. In a place being ripped apart by a dungeon or a portal world or whatever you wanted to call it. And she was out here just waiting. She stared off into the horizon where the flickering orange light of structure fires mixed with pools of white mist that didn¡¯t glow but did seem to produce an internal light. The woman sighed, shifting and tugging at her biker leathers as she did so, the makeshift armor a poor imitation of the shell plate and kevlar around her. ¡°What if we just asked for help?¡± She whispered into the night. ¡±What?¡± ¡±I said what if we ask them.¡± She turned to Mags, the other woman¡¯s tattooed hand wrapped up in her hair as she nervously tugged at the braid. Vex looked over at where the group they were attached to was talking to a couple men who looked like they were really excited to play soldier. ¡°The Order weirdos seem¡­ uh¡­ they seem¡­¡± ¡±One of them mouthed off to the Line.¡± Mags said as she stared blankly in the same direction as her girlfriend. ¡°We can¡¯t. We can¡¯t trust that kind of¡­ of¡­¡± Vex shook her head in disagreement, anger flaring. ¡°Of what, being a badass? I bet if we tell them, they¡¯ll¡­¡± she trailed off. What would they? Send a rescue party? Send them? She and Mags stood there, leaning into each other and then jumping in shock as automatic weapons fire sounded maybe half a mile away. Vex gave a worried look at the Order group they were with, and the snake bobbed back at them in some kind of gesture. ¡°A shield team covering a vehicle fleeing the zone. Everything is fine.¡± The digital voice informed her. Vex took a long breath, wishing she was following through on her original plan for the night of getting high and doing party tricks with her latest domain upgrade. Then she made a decision and hoped Mags wouldn¡¯t hate her later. ¡°Hey!¡± She called to the snake, and got the attention of a couple other armored humans too. ¡°Our¡­ our friend is in there.¡± She jerked her head toward the zone, and felt Mags pull away from her shoulder to glare at her. ¡°Any chance we can get a ride to her place?¡± ¡±Shit, you know the address?¡± One of the armored goons asked rapidly. Vex nodded. ¡°Alright.¡± He turned and tilted his head up, staring at the sky. As Mags tried punching her shoulder, Vex worried she¡¯d broken their new buddy¡¯s brain, or her girlfriend¡¯s trust, or both. ¡±What¡­¡± ¡±Oh, he is speaking to someone. Please wait.¡± The snake told them. Such a fucking weird night. ¡±Right. Does your friend have magic?¡± The armored human asked. ¡°Also what¡¯s the address?¡± ¡°V, come on, don¡¯t-¡° She cut her girlfriend off, deciding to pay the price for it later. ¡°Yeah, the kind we got warned away from, but she doesn¡¯t know. We¡¯ve never seen this place before.¡± She relayed the address for Astra¡¯s apartment, hoping she wasn¡¯t fucking everything up. ¡±Oh, that¡¯s close to someone already there.¡± The guy said. ¡°Aaaaaand got it. Arrush is heading that way. If your friend¡¯s still¡­ I mean, if she¡¯s¡­ if¡­¡± A short woman who had just walked up rapped the man on the shoulder to shut him up, grimacing as she turned to Vex, giving a more blunt explanation that was still appreciated. ¡°If she¡¯s alive, he¡¯ll get her out.¡± The girl said, at the same time that Vex and Mags noticed the halo of what looked like pencils orbiting her head. ¡°Hope she isn¡¯t afraid of bugs.¡± ¡±¡­is he a bug?¡± Mags asked. ¡°Actually nah, fuck it, I don¡¯t need to know.¡± Her voice trembled as her shoulders sagged. ¡°Thanks.¡± She muttered. ¡±Yeah, thank you.¡± Vex added, shocked that just asking had actually worked. ¡°Hey, can I ask¡­ who the fuck are you guys? I didn¡¯t really get an explanation before I got dragged into this.¡± The girl that would introduce herself in a second as Momo grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a crash course.¡± She said. ¡°If you tell me what the shit you meant when you told James you can control oil cause that sounds like my kind of bullshit and I¡¯m here for it.¡± She froze for a second along with everyone else in the group, half of them doing the little head tilt thing. ¡°Hey, later though, yeah? We gotta get moving. Nate¡¯s decided the front line is two miles that-away, and we need to stop a bus full of old folks from driving back into possibly figurative hell. Easy!¡± She raised a hand for a high five, which Vex gave her after sharing a baffled look with her girlfriend. ¡°Great! You¡¯re driving! Follow that fire truck!¡± Vex was having a weird day. Catching the keys Momo threw her and sharing a look with her girlfriend who was gnawing on her lower lip in consideration, they clambered into the probably not stolen van along with six people in body armor. Half of them were glowing. It was amazing and hilarious and exciting, but also, she felt like the world was falling apart a lot faster than she had when all she knew about was one single place that gave out arcane secrets. But at least someone seemed to be on top of things. _____ James, Cam, shield team number three (they really needed to let the teams name themselves stupid things, in James¡¯ opinion) and two squad cars worth of police officers who were way out of their depth, all stood in the ruins of a public library. Around them, real honest Earth darkness appeared. In the wake of the glowing mist billowing away from the position of the destroyed anchor, the night as it was meant to be came back. No induced gloom, no artificial breeze pushing light-filled fog, just the surviving streetlights and the clouds overhead shrouding the crescent moon. James dropped his hand from where he¡¯d raised it, the incantation that was becoming too familiar finished. ¡±Well that was easy.¡± He lied. Covering miles of ground when you had vehicles wasn¡¯t that hard, though the streets were getting worse. There were fewer people, and more places where people had either tried to flee or just been caught in transit. One road they crossed had what looked like a twenty car pile-up, the street that cut through neighborhoods and clusters of businesses a complete blockade created by people either running or being dragged from their cars. Getting past the monsters wasn¡¯t hard. For all that the anchor itself had a couple of those massive bundles of power lines floating around, they were easy to dodge when you knew they were there. Dangerous, very dangerous, but slow. And the rest of the horde was¡­ well, James was starting to suspect that this dungeon invasion wasn¡¯t really bringing the dungeon¡¯s A-game. The dogs it was sending were the kind with skin like upholstery and bulging protrusions filled with rusted teeth, but those were¡­ almost easy. They seemed like they were more distracted clumping around empty buildings than fighting or hunting. He hated thinking it, but James would admit that a lot of the Underburbs was easier when you were approaching it with a full sorcerer-rifleman squad and a loadout that included thermite. Also Cam. The rest of the creatures - the twisted children, the slimy panther forms that messed with electronics, and a brand new problem that was a slowly plodding grey flesh body that only served as the vehicle for a TV screen that tried to kill you if you looked at it - they were all dangerous, but they were all manageable. Easily so. There was no sign at all of some of the more threatening stuff, like the hoods or the stronger ambush predators. The other threats, the diseases and the watcher-class threats, those were harder. Fewer authorities meant less protection from infection, so they were banking on safety precautions and moving faster than the dungeon to get through. And that¡­ mostly worked. The watcher problems were harder, and the party had taken damage from them, though again, it felt like the Underburbs had finite time to set stuff up here, so it wasn¡¯t too bad. All five officers with them had some skill points by this time from all three sources. The shield team had fared better on the watcher front, but someone had still been inflicted with a dangerous self-harm compulsion from a mobile wall mural, and there were at least three real broken bones scattered across the group. But they¡¯d done it. Anchor down, city reclaimed, dungeon banished. And there hadn¡¯t been a human delver guarding this one either, which made it almost suspiciously simple to walk in. James kinda wanted to know how many skill points he¡¯d racked up. Because if they¡¯d done it, if they¡¯d repelled the enemy and saved as many people as could be saved, and the Order had won? Well, then he was starting to let himself relax, and when he was relaxed, he wanted to be snarky, and if he was going to be snarky, then he wanted to enter into an unasked for competition with the mortar team to see who had gotten the bigger supply of skill points from the night¡¯s attack. It was actually close to horrifying that they¡¯d gotten kill credit for their bombing earlier. But it was a better way to make use of the Order¡¯s very limited skill crystal stash than getting sick over and over. ¡±Is that it?¡± One of the cops asked, kneeling by a hole in the wall with his service pistol pointed out into the night while his partner stood behind him with a shotgun leveled the same direction. ¡°Did we do it?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t see shit.¡± The other one muttered, running a blood stained hand through his short cropped hair. James glanced at Evans, the shield team leader reporting their success back to the Order¡¯s operational base. ¡°Planner¡¯s confirming most of the watcher hazards are cleared out. Fog is receding. Looks like we got it.¡± ¡±The others?¡± James asked, holding his breath as Zhu let his feathers relax and stretched out his manifested talon, the navigator mimicking the motion even though he had no muscles to get sore. ¡°Did they get theirs?¡± He supposed he could just check on his own, but Cam answered him a second later so everyone could hear. ¡°Team two was successful. Minimal casualties.¡± Her voice was cold and professional, but still James found his heart pounding at the mention of casualties. That didn¡¯t specifically mean deaths; their own team had casualties after all, with no fatalities, but even so. Cam cut the thought off by continuing. ¡°We need to return. Now. There is a problem.¡± ¡±What now?¡± Evans asked, the knight checking his rifle¡¯s ammo supply. One of the other shield team members swore, shifting away from the officer they were paired with when the man started coughing wetly. Outside, metal and glass protested loudly as something heavy crashed down from the sky into a number of parked cars, the blinking lights from their alarms lighting up parts of the street where a dying powerball had dropped from the sky. Everyone else jumped. Evans just made sure his weapon was ready before resuming his lookout on the perimeter of the library¡¯s destroyed atrium. ¡°Was that the problem?¡± He asked. ¡±No.¡± Cam said. ¡°The fog has only receded two miles.¡± James did some quick mental math. ¡°Wait. So this anchor was¡­ weaker?¡± ¡±No, it had pushed the dungeon¡¯s perimeter forward exactly as much as the others.¡± Cam reminded him. Shaking his head, James tried to push through the mental strain of two prolonged fights and more planning and coordination than he usually did while under pressure like this. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ wait, no, hang on. That means there¡¯s something behind it?¡± ¡±Another anchor.¡± Evans supplied. Cam nodded. ¡±Likely.¡± ¡±You mean we¡¯ve gotta do this again?¡± The officer at the back door asked, turning his head incredulously. James found himself agreeing, pointing at the man and nodding at Cam as if to echo what was said. The cops weren¡¯t trained for dungeon bullshit like he was, but this had still been a lot, and it wasn¡¯t over? That wasn¡¯t fucking fair. ¡°Fuck this!¡± The cop said. ¡°I¡¯m getting the fuck out of this city.¡± ¡±Don¡¯t antagonize the goddamn dragon lady.¡± His partner hissed at him, having recently watched Cam rip a car door off with her bare hands and use it as a frisbee. Cam shook her head slowly as the other powerball made its death known by landing on a more mundane power pylon and ripping the whole thing down to Earth, lights in the buildings that still had power flickering before going dark and leaving the area even less lit than before. ¡°Ariel analysis is showing curves in the boundary. They were there before for these anchors as well, we just didn¡¯t notice.¡± James tried to imagine what would cause that, and, to his annoyance, felt like he had an answer. ¡±Curves, like¡­ oh shit, Cam, no. Don¡¯t tell me there¡¯s more more.¡± ¡±I won¡¯t tell you, but Nate will when we decide how to deploy for the next push.¡± Cam told him. Zhu groaned like an engine stalling. ¡°Who taught her how to be sassy? It was you, wasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°It was me.¡± James admitted, trying to hold onto a spark of optimism in the rapidly encroaching sea of worry. ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± ¡±Now we head back.¡± Evans informed them as his team closed in around the group at the base of the metal spire that Cam had brought down by hitting it repeatedly, bringing the police with them to exfiltrate. ¡°Telepad groups, split like this;¡± he made hand gestures, motioning them into three pockets of people. Standard procedure for shield teams now, apparently, was to never teleport as a single group if they could help it. James liked it, and wished he¡¯d thought of it sooner. ¡±Why didn¡¯t we teleport here?!¡± One of the cops said. ¡°Why can you fucking teleport?!¡± ¡±The dungeon destroys addresses.¡± Zhu sighed, getting a stare from the man in response as the officer tried and commendably mostly succeeded in processing that explanation. ¡°And we can teleport because¡­ actually I haven¡¯t been here long enough to actually know this one. James why can we teleport?¡± It was meant as a joke, but Zhu sounded halfway to crying. James didn¡¯t answer. He wanted to laugh, and he wanted to cry, and he wanted to scream. But more importantly, he wanted to know why his day, that had started out so well, was looking to cross the line into tomorrow feeling less like a victory or even a defensive action, and more like he was getting into an active war. And then, the part of him that refused to give in to despair took over. And he started thinking. Not just reacting, but planning. Because if they were going to be at war with someone, the Underburbs was probably the thing that deserved it most, and the people behind the Order were going to need him at his very best if they were going to be protected. As the telepad took them back to a Wal Mart with management that was getting increasingly uncomfortable with how much their office was getting used by random paramilitary strangers, James was thinking of one other thing. A little black book, within which were written the oaths of his paladins. A little piece of ceremony and theater that had nonetheless become something that was important to them all. Himself included. Because his promise was in there too. And when he thought about the fact that the Right Person At The Right Moment had given him a timeline for the collapse of civilization, James thought about the promise he¡¯d made in response. And he started thinking not about how hard this was going to be, or how many people had already been hurt or killed, or how much it would cost the Order. And started thinking about how to win the war.